THE LIBRARY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 LOS ANGELES 
 
 GIFT OF 
 
 FREDERIC THOMAS BLANCHARD 
 
 FOR THE 
 ENGLISH READING ROOM
 
 S TILE HACKJREI" 
 
 At this Judy takes -up the corner of her apron. 
 
 and -jjut;: it first : -ind then to t'other. 
 
 beinjS to all appparan'.'f i ' i'.tle' 
 
 //IN CRADOCK, 
 
 TfcKNOSTKR HO
 
 CASTLE RACKRENT, 
 
 AND 
 
 IRISH BULLS, 
 
 <f,A IE DG.E "WORTH. 
 
 Rose ran in teiweon us u> Pel the musket from ray hand: 
 it -was loaded . and went off in the straggle, and ibe "ball lodged 
 HI her body.' " * 
 
 . BALDWIN & CBADOCK, PATERKOSTBR RCW. 
 AlfD OTHER PROPSIETOKS. 
 
 132.
 
 TALES AND NOVELS 
 
 MARIA EDGEWORTH. 
 
 IN EIGHTEEN VOLUMES. 
 
 VOL. I. 
 
 CONTAINING 
 
 CASTLE RACKRENT; 
 AN ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS; 
 
 AN ESSAY ON 
 
 THE NOBLE SCIENCE OF SELF-JUSTIFICATION. 
 
 LONDON: 
 
 PRINTED FOR BALDWIN AND CRADOCK; 
 j. MURRAY; j. BOOKER; A. K. NKWMAN AND co. ; WHITTAKER 
 
 TRBACHRR, AND ARNOT; T. TKGG ; SIMPKIN AND MARSHALL 
 SMITH, Kl.llKK, AND CO.; 8. HODGSON; HOULSTON AND SON 
 
 i. TKMPLEMAN; j. BAIN; R. MACKIE; RENSIIAW AND RUSH 
 
 AND G. AND J. KOBINSON, LIVERPOOL. 
 
 1H32.
 
 PRINTED BY C. BALDWIN, NEW BRIDGE-STREET.
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 Page 
 CASTLE RACKRENT . . 1 
 
 ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS . . . .121 
 
 Introduction . . . . .123 
 
 Chap. I. Originality of Irish Bulls examined . .129 
 
 II. Irish Newspapers . . . .137 
 
 III. The Criminal Law of Bulls and Blunders . 148 
 
 IV. Little Dominick . . . .155 
 V. The Bliss of Ignorance . . .16? 
 
 VI. " Thoughts that breathe and Words that burn" 175 
 
 VII. Practical Bulls . . . .182 
 
 VIII. The Dublin Shoeblack . . .189 
 
 IX. The Hibernian Mendicant . . . 200 
 
 X. Irish Wit and Eloquence . . . 208 
 
 XL The Brogue . . . . .220 
 
 XII. Bath Coach Conversation . . . 227 
 
 XIII. Bath Coach Conversation . . . 239 
 
 XIV. The Irish Incognito .... 243 
 Conclusion ..... 276 
 Appendix ..... 281 
 
 AN ESSAY ON THE NOBLE SCIENCE OF SELF-JUS- 
 TIFICATION ..... 291
 
 PUBLISHERS 1 ADVERTISEMENT. 
 
 THIS Edition of the TALES and NOVELS of Miss 
 EDGEWORTH, which, in conformity with the present 
 prevailing taste, is embellished with Plates, and 
 presented to the Public in Monthly Volumes, will 
 consist of Castle Rackrent, Irish Bulls, The Moral 
 Tales, Popular Tales, Tales of Fashionable Life, The 
 Modern Griselda, Belinda, Leonora, Patronage, Har- 
 rington, and Ormond, and a few smaller pieces. It is 
 not intended to include in it any of those writings of 
 Miss Edgeworth which are of a more juvenile character 
 than the Moral Tales, a smaller size being deemed 
 more appropriate. Of these a fitter opportunity for 
 speaking will occur hereafter: at present it is only 
 necessary to say, that there are few persons who have 
 not, in their earliest years, experienced the greatest 
 pleasure, and imbibed the highest moral truths, from 
 the perusal of the "Early Lessons" and " The Parent's 
 Assistant." " Rosamond and Frank," " The Little 
 Dog Trusty," and " The Cherry Orchard," will not be 
 easily forgotten by them ; and in their after years they 
 will delight to renew, and will profit by renewing, their 
 early acquaintance, by a perusal of works from the 
 same pen, but adapted to maturer age. 
 a 3
 
 VI 
 
 With respect to her works of higher pretensions, it 
 may be justly said, that her TALES and NOVELS form 
 a class by themselves. They are for the most part 
 Irish ; but without any of those savage features so 
 painfully characteristic of the novels which, for the 
 last few years, have turned on the circumstances of 
 Ireland, or that admixture of foreign manners which is 
 so striking in the works of Lady Morgan. They con- 
 tain highly-finished pictures of fashionable and domestic 
 life, and yet have few points of similarity, if any, to 
 the novels of Hook, Bulwer, Lord Mulgrave, on one 
 side, or Miss Ferier, Miss Austin, or Mrs. Brunton, 6n 
 the other. Though they cannot be said, strictly, to be 
 Historical, yet they will be found to resemble no con- 
 temporary works in the department of Romance so 
 much as the earlier novels of the Author of Waverley. 
 Sir Walter Scott, indeed, with his characteristic frank- 
 ness, has acknowledged that his original idea, when he 
 commenced his career as a novelist, was to be to Scot- 
 land what Miss Edgeworth was to Ireland to pourtray 
 peculiarities of manners belonging rather to the gene- 
 ration passing away than to that which now exists ; 
 and to give life to the national scenery, and permanence 
 to the national characteristics of his countrymen. 
 Waverley, Guy Mannering, Rob Roy the novels to 
 which Sir Walter Scott originally intended to have 
 confined himself, bear, in their most striking features, a v 
 considerable likeness to Castle Rackrent, Ennui, Or- 
 mond, &c. ; and the works of Miss Edgeworth will not 
 suffer by a comparison which, to almost any other
 
 ' Til 
 
 series, could not fail to be fatal ; while she may also 
 justly claim the merit of priority.* 
 
 In depicting the strange varieties of Irish Character, 
 whether grave or gay, she is confessedly without an 
 equal ; and when she puts her foot upon a soil foreign 
 to her own, she does not tread it as a stranger. The 
 same felicity which inspires her in the unequalled cha- 
 racters of Sir Phelim, King Corny, &c. presides over 
 the pictures which, in " Patronage," and other works, 
 she draws from the higher classes of English society. 
 Her comic and playful satire ranks her high in the 
 dominions of humour, while it is combined with a 
 sterling common sense, and a power of picturesque 
 
 * " Two circumstances, in particular, recalled my recollection 
 of the mislaid manuscript. The first was the extended and 
 well-merited fame of Bliss Edgeworth, whose Irish characters 
 have gone so far to make the English familiar with the cha- 
 racter of their gay and kind-hearted neighbours of Ireland, that 
 she may be truly said to have done more towards completing the 
 Union, than perhaps all the legislative enactments by which it 
 has been followed up. 
 
 " Without being so presumptuous as to hope to emulate the 
 rich humour, pathetic tenderness, and admirable tact, which 
 pervade the works of my accomplished friend, I felt that some- 
 thing might be attempted for my own country, of the same 
 kind with that which Miss Edgeworth so fortunately achieved 
 for Ireland something which might introduce her natives to 
 those of the sister kingdom, in a more favourable light than 
 they had been placed hitherto, and tend to procure sympathy 
 for their virtues and indulgence for their foibles." Extract 
 from Sir Walter Scott's General Preface to the Waverley 
 Novels. 
 
 a 4
 
 description which seldom fall to the lot of the wit or the 
 satirist. Her story-telling powers are admirable: who 
 hut herself could infuse so much grace and shrewdness 
 into so small a compass as we find them in the Moral 
 and Popular Tales, in " To-Morrow/' " Murad the 
 Unlucky/' and many others? It is, however, unneces- 
 sary now to eulogize the works of Miss Edgeworth: 
 they have taken an enduring position in the literature 
 of the country, and the Publishers of this Series give it 
 to the world in a well-grounded confidence of its suc- 
 cessful reception. 
 
 The Series will be printed in eighteen Monthly 
 Volumes, and published at 5s. each. The Embellish- 
 ments will be of the very first order, consisting of a 
 Frontispiece and Vignette Title to each volume. They 
 will be executed (on steel) by the most eminent En- 
 gravings, from Paintings wholly by HARVEY, who un- 
 questionably is, and will ere long be universally ac- 
 knowledged to be, in the first class of British Artists. 
 
 To delineate with accuracy the peculiar scenery of 
 Ireland, and to give to native character all its humour 
 and truth, this talented artist has traversed many of the 
 districts of Ireland, and is thus enabled to introduce 
 into his fine drawings living character, and much of the 
 wild and beautiful landscape of the country. 
 
 The whole of the Works have undergone a careful 
 Revision and Correction by the Author herself. 
 
 PATERNOSTER- ROW, 
 
 April 30, 1832.
 
 PREFACE. 
 
 THE prevailing taste of the public for anecdote 
 has been censured and ridiculed by critics who 
 aspire to the character of superior wisdom : but if 
 we consider it in a proper point of view, this taste 
 is an incontestible proof of the good sense and pro- 
 foundly philosophic temper of the present times. Of 
 the numbers who study, or at least who read history, 
 how few derive any advantage from their labours ! 
 The heroes of history are so decked out by the fine 
 fancy of the professed historian ; they talk in such 
 measured prose, and act from such sublime or such 
 diabolical motives, that few have sufficient taste, 
 wickedness, or heroism, to sympathise in their fate. 
 Besides, there is much uncertainty even in the best 
 authenticated ancient or modern histories ; and that 
 love of truth, which in some minds is innate and im- 
 mutable, necessarily leads to a love of secret memoirs, 
 and private anecdotes. We cannot judge either of 
 the feelings or of the characters of men with perfect 
 accuracy, from their actions or their appearance in 
 public ; it is from their careless conversations, their 
 half-finished sentences, that we may hope with the 
 greatest probability of success to discover their real
 
 X PREFACE. 
 
 characters. The life of a great or of a little man 
 written by himself, the familiar letters, the diary of 
 any individual published by his friends or by his 
 enemies, after his decease, are esteemed important 
 literary curiosities. We are surely justified, in this 
 eager desire, to collect the most minute facts relative 
 to the domestic lives, not only of the great and good, 
 but even of the worthless and insignificant, since it 
 is only by a comparison of their actual happiness or 
 misery in the privacy of domestic life that we can 
 form a just estimate of the real reward of virtue, or 
 the real punishment of vice. That the great are not 
 as happy as they seem, that the external circum- 
 stances of fortune and rank do not constitute felicity, 
 is asserted by every moralist: the historian can 
 seldom, consistently with his dignity, pause to illus- 
 trate this truth : it is therefore to the biographer we 
 must have recourse. After we have beheld splendid 
 characters playing their parts on the great theatre 
 of the world, with all the advantages of stage effect 
 and decoration, we anxiously beg to be admitted 
 behind the scenes, that we may take a nearer view 
 of the actors and actresses. 
 
 Some may perhaps imagine, that the value of 
 biography depends upon the judgment and taste of 
 the biographer : but on the contrary it may be main- 
 tained, that the merits of a biographer are inversely 
 as the extent of his intellectual powers and of his 
 literary talents. A plain unvarnished tale is pre- 
 ferable to the most highly ornamented narrative. 
 Where we see that a man has the power, we may
 
 PREFACE. XI 
 
 naturally suspect that he has the will to deceive us ; 
 and those who are used to literary manufacture know 
 how much is often sacrificed to the rounding of a 
 period, or the pointing of an antithesis. 
 
 That the ignorant may have their prejudices as 
 well as the learned cannot be disputed ; but we see 
 and despise vulgar errors : we never bow to the 
 authority of him who has no great name to sanction 
 his absurdities. The partiality which blinds a bio- 
 grapher to the defects of his hero, in proportion as 
 it is gross, ceases to be dangerous ; but if it be con- 
 cealed by the appearance of candour, which men of 
 great abilities best know how to assume, it endangers 
 our judgment sometimes, and sometimes our morals. 
 If her grace the duchess of Newcastle, instead of 
 penning her lord's elaborate eulogium, had under- 
 taken to write the life of Savage, we should not have 
 been in any danger of mistaking an idle, ungrateful 
 libertine for a man of genius and virtue. The talents 
 of a biographer are often fatal to his reader. For 
 these reasons the public often judiciously countenance 
 those, who, without sagacity to discriminate cha- 
 racter, without elegance of style to relieve the tedi- 
 ousness of narrative, without enlargement of mind 
 to draw any conclusions from the facts they relate, 
 simply pour forth anecdotes, and retail conversations, 
 with all the minute prolixity of a gossip in a country 
 town. 
 
 The author of the following Memoirs has upon 
 these grounds fair claims to the public favour and 
 attention; he was an illiterate old steward, whose
 
 Xll .PREFACE. 
 
 partiality to the family, in which he was bred and 
 born, must be obvious to the reader. He tells the 
 history of the Rackrent family in his vernacular 
 idiom, and in the full confidence that sir Patrick, 
 sir Murtagh, sir Kit, and sir Condy Rackrent's 
 affairs will be as interesting to all the world as they 
 were to himself. Those who were acquainted with 
 the manners of a certain class of the gentry of Ire- 
 land some years ago will want no evidence of the 
 truth of honest Thady's narrative : to those who are 
 totally unacquainted with Ireland, the following 
 Memoirs will perhaps be scarcely intelligible, or 
 probably they may appear perfectly incredible. For 
 the information of the ignorant English reader, a 
 few notes have been subjoined by the editor, and he 
 had it once in contemplation to translate the lan- 
 guage of Thady into plain English ; but Thady's 
 idiom is incapable of translation, and, besides, the 
 authenticity of his story would have been more ex- 
 posed to doubt if it were not told in his own cha- 
 racteristic manner. Several years ago he related to 
 the editor the history of the Rackrent family, and it 
 was with some difficulty that he was persuaded to 
 have it committed to \vriting ; however, his feelings 
 for " the honour of the family," as he expressed him- 
 self, prevailed over his habitual laziness, and he at 
 length completed the narrative which is now laid 
 before the public. 
 
 The editor hopes his readers will observe that these 
 are "tales of other times:" that the manners de- 
 picted in the following pages are not those of the
 
 PREFACE. Xlll 
 
 present age : the race of the Rackrents has long 
 since been extinct in Ireland ; and the drunken sir 
 Patrick, the litigious sir Murtagh, the fighting sir 
 Kit, and the slovenly sir Condy, are characters 
 which could no more be met with at present in Ire- 
 land, than squire Western or parson Trulliber in 
 England. There is a time, when individuals can 
 bear to be rallied for their past follies and absurdi- 
 ties, after they have acquired new habits, and a new 
 consciousness. Nations as well as individuals gra- 
 dually lose attachment to their identity, and the 
 present generation is amused rather than offended 
 by the ridicule that is thrown upon its ancestors. 
 
 Probably we shall soon have it in our power, in 
 a hundred instances, to verify the truth of these 
 observations. 
 
 When Ireland loses her identity by an union with 
 Great Britain, she will look back with a smile of 
 good-humoured complacency on the sii Kits and sir 
 Condys of her former existence. 
 
 1800.
 
 CASTLE RACKRENT; 
 
 AV 
 
 HIBERNIAN TALE. 
 
 TAKEN FROM FACTS, 
 AND FROM 
 
 THE MANNERS OF THE IRISH SQUIRES 
 
 BEFORE THE YEAR 1782.
 
 CASTLE RACKRENT. 
 
 Monday Morning. 
 
 HAVING, out of friendship for the family, upon 
 whose estate, praised be Heaven ! I and mine have 
 lived rent-free, time out of mind, voluntarily under- 
 taken to publish the MEMOIRS of the RACKRENT 
 FAMILY, I think it my duty to say a few words, in 
 the first place, concerning myself. My real name is 
 Thady Quirk, though in the family I have always 
 been known by no other than " honest Thady," 
 afterwards, in the time of sir Murtagh, deceased, 
 I remember to hear them calling me " old Thady," 
 and now I'm come to " poor Thady ;" for I wear a 
 long great coat* winter and summer, which is very 
 
 * The cloak, or mantle, as described by Thady, is of high 
 antiquity. Spencer, in his " View of the State of Ireland," 
 proves that it is not, as some have imagined, peculiarly derived 
 from the Scythians, but that " most nations of the world 
 anciently used the mantle ; for the Jews used it, as you may 
 read of Elias's mantle, &.c. ; the Chaldees also used it, as you 
 may read in Diodorus ; the Egyptians likewise used it, as you 
 may read in Herodotus, and may be gathered by the description 
 of Berenice, in the Greek Commentary upon Callimachus ; the 
 Greeks also used it anciently, as appeared by Venus's mantle 
 lined with stars, though afterwards they changed the form 
 B *
 
 2 CASTLE RACKRENT. 
 
 handy, as I never put my arms into the sleeves ; 
 they are as good as new, though come Holantide 
 next I've had it these seven years ; it holds on by a 
 single button round my neck, cloak fashion. To look 
 at me, you would hardly think "poor Thady" was 
 
 thereof into their cloaks, called Pallai, as some of the Irish also 
 use : and the ancient Latins and Romans used it, as you may 
 read in Virgil, who was a very great antiquary, that Evander, 
 when -^neas came to him at his feast, did entertain and feast 
 him sitting on the ground, and lying on mantles : insomuch that 
 he useth the very word mantile for a mantle, 
 
 ' II umi mantilia sternunt : ' 
 
 so that it seemeth that the mantle was a general habit to most 
 nations, and not proper to the Scythians only." 
 
 Spencer knew the convenience of the said mantle, as housing, 
 bedding, and clothing. 
 
 " Iren. Because the commodity doth not countervail the dis- 
 commodity ; for the inconveniences which thereby do arise are 
 much more many ; for it is a fit house for an outlaw, a meet bed 
 for a rebel, and an apt cloak for a thief. First, the outlaw 
 being for his many crimes and villanies, banished from the towns 
 and houses of honest men, and wandering in wastes places, far 
 from danger of law, maketh his mantle his house, and under it 
 covereth himself from the wrath of Heaven, from the offence of 
 the earth, and from the sight of men. When it raineth, it is 
 his pent-house ; when it bloweth, it is his tent ; when it freezeth 
 it is his tabernacle. In summer he can wear it loose ; in winter 
 he can wrap it close ; at all times he can use it ; never heavy, 
 never cumbersome. Likewise for a rebel it is as serviceable ; 
 for in this war that he maketh (if at least it deserves the name 
 of war), when he still flieth from his foe, and lurketh in the 
 thick woods (this should be black bogs) and straight passages 
 waiting for advantages, it is his bed, yea, and almost his house- 
 hold stuff."
 
 CASTLE RACKRENT. 3 
 
 the father of attorney Quirk ; he is a high gentle- 
 man, and never minds what poor Thady says, and 
 having better than fifteen hundred a year, landed 
 estate, looks down upon honest Thady ; but I wash 
 my hands of his doings, and as I have lived so will I 
 die, true and loyal to the family. The family of the 
 Rackrents is, I am proud to say, one of the most 
 ancient in the kingdom. Every body knows this is 
 not the old family name, which was O'Shaughlin, re- 
 lated to the kings of Ireland but that was before 
 my time. My grandfather was driver to the great 
 sir Patrick O'Shaughlin, and I heard him, when I 
 was a boy, telling how the Castle Rackrent estate 
 came to sir Patrick ; Sir Tallyhoo Rackrent was 
 cousin-german to him, and had a fine estate of his 
 own, only never a gate upon it, it being his maxim 
 that a car was the best gate. Poor gentleman ! he 
 lost a fine hunter and his life, at last, by it, all in 
 one day's hunt. But I ought to bless that day, for 
 the estate came straight into the family, upon one 
 condition, which Sir Patrick O'Shaughlin at the 
 time took sadly to heart, they say, but thought 
 better of it afterwards, seeing how large a stake de- 
 pended upon it, that he should by act of parliament, 
 take and bear the surname and arms of Rackrent. 
 
 Now it was that the world was to see what was in 
 sir Patrick. On coming into the estate, he gave 
 the finest entertainment ever was heard of in the 
 country : not a man could stand after supper but sir 
 Patrick himself, who could sit out the best man in 
 Ireland, let alone the three kingdoms itself. He 
 u2
 
 CASTLE RACKRENT. 
 
 had his house, from one year's end to another, as full 
 of company as ever it could hold, and fuller ; for 
 rather than be left out of the parties at Castle Rack- 
 rent, many gentlemen, and those men of the first 
 consequence and landed estates in the country, such 
 as the O'Neils of Ballynagrotty, and the Money- 
 gawl's of Mount Juliet's Town, and O' Shannons of 
 New Town Tullyhog, made it their choice, often and 
 often, when there was no room to be had for love nor 
 money, in long winter nights, to sleep in the chicken- 
 house, which sir Patrick had fitted up for the pur- 
 pose of accommodating his friends and the public in 
 general, who honoured him with their company un- 
 expectedly at Castle Rackrent ; and this went on, I 
 can't tell you how long the whole country rang 
 with his praises ! Long life to him ! I'm sure I love 
 to look upon his picture, now opposite to me ; though 
 I never saw him, he must have been a portly gentle- 
 man his neck something short, and remarkable for 
 the largest pimple on his nose, which, by his .par- 
 ticular desire, is still extant in his picture, said to 
 be a striking likeness, though taken when young. 
 He is said also to be the inventor of raspberry 
 whiskey, which is very likely, as nobody has ever 
 appeared to dispute it with him, and as there still 
 exists a broken punch-bowl at Castle Rackrent, in 
 the garret, with an inscription to that effect a 
 great curiosity. A few days before his death he was 
 very merry ; it being his honour's birth-day, he 
 called my grandfather in, God bless him ! to drink 
 the company's health, and filled a bumper himself,
 
 CASTLE RACKRENT. 5 
 
 but could not carry it to his head, on account of the 
 great shake in his hand ; on this he cast his joke, 
 saying, " What would my poor father say to me if 
 he was to pop out of the grave, and see me now ? 
 I remember when I was a little boy, the first bumper 
 of claret he gave me after dinner, how he praised me 
 for carrying it so steady to my mouth. Here's my 
 thanks to him a bumper toast." Then he fell to 
 singing the favourite song he learned from his father 
 for the last time, poor gentleman he sung it that 
 night as loud and as hearty as ever with a chorus : 
 
 " He that goes to bed, and goes to bed sober, 
 
 Falls as the leaves do, falls as the leaves do, and dies in Oc- 
 tober ; 
 
 But he that goes to bed, and goes to bed mellow, 
 
 Lives as he ought to do, lives as he ought to do, and dies 
 an honest fellow." 
 
 Sir Patrick died that night : just as the company 
 rose to drink his health with three cheers, he fell 
 down in a sort of fit, and was carried off; they sat 
 it out, and were surprised, on inquiry, in the morn- 
 ing, to find that it was all over with poor sir Patrick. 
 Never did any gentleman live and die more beloved 
 in the country by rich and poor. His funeral was 
 such a one as was never known before or since in the 
 county ! All the gentlemen in the three counties 
 were at it ; far and near, how they flocked : my 
 great grandfather said, that to see all the women 
 even in their red cloaks, you would have taken them 
 for the army drawn out. Then such a fine whilla- 
 luh ! you might have heard it to the farthest end of
 
 6 CASTLE RACKRENT. 
 
 the county, and happy the man who could get but a 
 sight of the hearse ! But who'd have thought it ? 
 just as all was going on right, through his own 
 town they were passing, when the body was seized 
 for debt a rescue was apprehended from the mob ; 
 but the heir who attended the funeral was against 
 that, for fear of consequences, seeing that those 
 villains who came to serve acted under the disguise 
 of the law : so, to be sure, the law must take its 
 course, and little gain had the creditors for their 
 pains. First and foremost, they had the curses of 
 the country: and sir Murtagh Rackrent, the new 
 heir, in the next place, on account of this affront to 
 the body, refused to pay a shilling of the debts, in 
 which he was countenanced by all the best gentle- 
 men of property, and others of his acquaintance ; 
 sir Murtagh alleging in all companies, that he all 
 along meant to pay his father's debts of honour, but 
 the moment the law was taken of him, there was an 
 end of honour to be sure. It was whispered (but 
 none but the enemies of the family believe it), that 
 this was all a sham seizure to get quit of the debts, 
 which he had bound himself to pay in honour. 
 
 It's a long time ago, there's no saying how it was, 
 but this for certain, the new man did not take at 
 all after the old gentleman ; the cellars were never 
 filled after his death, and no open house, or any 
 thing as it used to be ; the tenants even were sent 
 away without their whiskey. I was ashamed myself, 
 and knew not what to say for the honour of the 
 family ; but I made the best of a bad case, and laid
 
 CASTLE RACKRENT. 7 
 
 it all at my lady's door, for I did not like her any 
 how, nor any body else ; she was of the family of the 
 Skinflints, and a widow ; it was a strange match for 
 sir Murtagh ; the people in the country thought he 
 demeaned himself greatly, but I said nothing : I 
 knew how it was ; sir Murtagh was a great lawyer, 
 and looked to the great Skinflint estate ; there, how- 
 ever, he overshot himself; for though one of the co- 
 heiresses, he was never the better for her, for she 
 outlived him many's the long day he could not see 
 that to be sure when he married her. I must say 
 for her, she made him the best of wives, being a 
 very notable stirring woman, and looking close to 
 every thing. But I always suspected she had Scotch 
 blood in her veins ; any thing else I could have 
 looked over in her from a regard to the family. She 
 was a strict observer for self and servants of 
 Lent, and all fast days, but not holidays. One of 
 the maids having fainted three times the last day of 
 Lent, to keep soul and body together, we put a 
 morsel of roast beef into her mouth, which came 
 from sir Murtagh's dinner, who never fasted, not 
 he ; but somehow or other it unfortunately reached 
 my lady's ears, and the priest of the parish had a 
 complaint made of it the next day, and the poor girl 
 was forced as soon as she could walk to do penance 
 for it, before she could get any peace or absolution, 
 in the house or out of it. However, my lady was 
 very charitable in her own way. She had a charity 
 school for poor children, where they were taught to 
 read and write gratis, and where they were kept well
 
 CASTLE RACKRENT. 
 
 to spinning gratis for my lady in return ; for she 
 had always heaps of duty yarn from the tenants, 
 and got all her household linen out of the estate 
 from first to last ; for after the spinning, the weavers 
 on the estate took it in hand for nothing, because of 
 the looms my lady's interest could get from the 
 Linen Board to distribute gratis. Then there was 
 a bleach-yard near us, and the tenant dare refuse 
 my lady nothing, for fear of a law-suit sir Murtagh 
 kept hanging over him about the water-course. 
 With these ways of managing, 'tis surprising how 
 cheap my lady got things done, and how proiid she 
 was of it. Her table the same way, kept for 
 next to nothing; duty fowls, and duty turkies, and 
 duty geese, came as fast as we could eat 'em, for my 
 lady kept a sharp look-out, and knew to a tub of 
 butter every thing the tenants had, all round. They 
 knew her way, and what with fear of driving for 
 rent and sir Murtagh 's lawsuits, they were kept in 
 such good order, they never thought of coming near 
 Castle Rackrent without a present of something or 
 other nothing too much or too little for my lady 
 eggs, honey, butter, meal, fish, game, grouse, and 
 herrings, fresh or salt, all went for something. As 
 for their young pigs, we had them, and the best 
 bacon and hams they could make up, with all young 
 chickens in spring ; but they were a set of poor 
 wretches, and we had nothing but misfortunes with 
 them, always breaking and running away. This., 
 sir Murtagh and my lady said, M'as all their former 
 landlord sir Patrick's fault, who let 'em all get the
 
 CASTLE RACKHENT. 9 
 
 half year's rent into arrear ; there was something in 
 that to be sure. But sir Murtagh was as much the 
 contrary way ; for let alone making English tenants 
 of them, every soul, he was always driving and 
 driving, and pounding and pounding, and canting 
 and canting, and replevying and replevying, and he 
 made a good living of trespassing cattle ; there was 
 always some tenant's pig, or horse, or cow, or calf, or 
 goose, trespassing, which was so great a gain to sir 
 Murtagh, that he did not like to hear me talk of re- 
 pairing fences. Then his heriots and duty-work 
 brought him in something, his turf was cut, his po- 
 tatoes set and dug, his hay brought home, and, in 
 short, all the work about his house done for nothing; 
 for in all our leases there were strict clauses heavy 
 with penalties, which sir Murtagh knew well how 
 to enforce ; so many days' duty work of man and 
 horse, from every tenant, he was to have, and 
 had, every year ; and when a man vexed him, why 
 the finest day he could pitch on, when the cratur 
 was getting in his own harvest, or thatching his 
 cabin, sir Murtagh made it a principle to call upon 
 him and his horse ; so he taught 'em all, as he said, 
 to know the law of landlord and tenant. As for law, 
 I believe no man, dead or alive, ever loved it so well 
 as sir Murtagh. He had once sixteen suits pending 
 at a time, and I never saw him so much himself; 
 roads, lanes, bogs, wells, ponds, eel-wires, orchards, 
 trees, tithes, vagrants, gravelpits, sandpits, dung- 
 hills, and nuisances, every thing upon the face of the 
 earth furnished him good matter for a suit. He
 
 10 CASTLE RACKRENT. 
 
 used to boast that he had a lawsuit for every letter 
 in the alphabet. How I used to wonder to see sir 
 Murtagh in the midst of the papers in his office ! 
 Why he could hardly turn about for them. I made 
 bold to shrug my shoulders once in his presence, and 
 thanked my stars I was not born a gentleman to so 
 much toil and trouble ; but sir Murtagh took me up 
 short with his old proverb, " learning is better than 
 house or land." Out of forty-nine suits which he 
 had, he never lost one but seventeen ; the rest he 
 gained with costs, double costs, treble costs some- 
 times ; but even that did not pay. He was a very 
 learned man in the law, and had the character of it ; 
 but how it was I can't tell, these suits that he carried 
 cost him a power of money ; in the end he sold some 
 hundreds a year of the family estate ; but he was a 
 very learned man in the law, and I know nothing of 
 the matter, except having a great regard for the 
 family ; and I could not help grieving when he sent 
 me to post up notices of the sale of the fee-simple of 
 the lands and appurtenances of Timoleague. " I 
 know, honest Thady," says he, to comfort me, 
 " what I'm about better than you do ; I'm only 
 selling to get the ready money wanting to carry on 
 my suit with spirit with the Nugents of Carrick- 
 ashaughlin." 
 
 He was very sanguine about that suit with the 
 Nugents of Carrickashaughlin. He could have 
 gained it, they say, for certain, had it pleased Heaven 
 to have spared him to us, and it would have been at 
 the least a plump two thousand a year in his way ;
 
 CASTLE RACKRENT. 11 
 
 but things were ordered otherwise, for the best to be 
 sure. He dug up a fairy-mount* against my advice, 
 and had no luck afterwards. Though a learned man 
 in the law, he was a little too incredulous in other 
 matters. I warned him that I heard the very Ban- 
 sheet that my grandfather heard under sir Patrick's 
 window a few days before his death. But sir Murtagh 
 thought nothing of the Banshee, nor of his cough with 
 a spitting of blood, brought on, I understand, by 
 catching cold in attending the courts, and overstrain- 
 ing his chest with making himself heard in one of his 
 favourite causes. He was a great speaker with a 
 powerful voice ; but his last speech was not in the 
 courts at all. He and my lady, though both of the 
 same way of thinking in some things, and though she 
 was as good a wife and great economist as you could 
 
 * These fairy-mounts are called ant-hills in England. They 
 are held in high reverence by the common people in Ireland. A 
 gentlemen, who in laying out his lawn had occasion to level one 
 of these hillocks, could not prevail upon any of his labourers to 
 begin the ominous work. He was obliged to take a loy from one 
 of their reluctant hands, and began the attack himself. The 
 labourers agreed, that the vengeance of the fairies would fall 
 upon the head of the presumptuous mortal, who first disturbed 
 them in their retreat. 
 
 f The Banshee is a species of aristocratic fairy, who, in the 
 shape of a little hideous old woman, has been known to appear, 
 and heard to sing in a mournful supernatural voice under the 
 windows of great houses, to warn the family that some of them 
 are soon to die. In the last century every great family in Ireland 
 had a Banshee, who attended regularly ; but latterly their visits 
 and songs have been discontinued.
 
 12 CASTLE RACKRENT. 
 
 see, and he the best of husbands, as to looking into 
 his affairs, and making money for his family ; yet I 
 don't know how it was, they had a great deal of 
 sparring and jarring between them. My lady had 
 her privy purse and she had her weed ashes, and 
 her sealing money upon the signing of all the leases, 
 with something to buy gloves besides ; and, besides, 
 again often took money from the tenants, if offered 
 properly, to speak for them to sir Murtagh about 
 abatements and renewals. Now the weed ashes and 
 the glove money he allowed her clear perquisites ; 
 though once when he saw her in a new gown saved 
 out of the weed ashes, he told her to my face (for he 
 could say a sharp thing,) that she should not put on 
 her weeds before her husband's death. But in a 
 dispute about an abatement, my lady would have the 
 last word, and sir Murtagh grew mad ; I was within 
 hearing of the door, and now I wish I had made bold 
 to step in. He spoke so loud, the whole kitchen was 
 out on the stairs. All on a sudden he stopped and 
 my lady too. Something has surely happened, 
 thought I and so it was, for sir Murtagh in his 
 passion broke a blood-vessel, and all the law in the 
 land could* do nothing in that case. My lady sent 
 for five physicians, but sir Murtagh died, and was 
 buried. She had a fine jointure settled upon her, 
 and took herself away to the great joy of the tenantry. 
 I never said any thing one way or the other, whilst 
 she was part of the family, but got up to see her go 
 at three o'clock in the morning. " It's a fine 
 morning, honest Thady," says she ; " good bye to
 
 CASTLE RACKRENT. 13 
 
 ye," and into the carriage she stept, without a word 
 more, good or bad, or even half a crown ; but I made 
 my bow, and stood to see her safe out of sight for 
 the sake of the family. 
 
 Then we were all bustle in the house, which made 
 me keep out of the way, for I walk slow and hate a 
 bustle; but the house was all hurry-skurry, preparing 
 for my new master. Sir Murtagh, I forgot to notice, 
 had no childer ;* so the Rackrent estate went to his 
 younger brother, a young dashing officer, who came 
 amongst us before I knew for the life of me where- 
 abouts I was, in a gig or some of them things, with 
 another spark along with him, and led horses, and 
 servants, and dogs, and scarce a place to put any 
 Christian of them into ; for my late lady had sent all 
 the feather-beds off before her, and blankets and 
 household linen, down to the very knife cloths, on 
 the cars to Dublin, which were all her own, lawfully 
 paid for out of fier own money. So the house was 
 quite bare, and my young master, the moment ever 
 he set foot in it out of his gig, thought all those 
 things must come of themselves, I believe, for he 
 never looked after any thing at all, but harum- 
 scarum called for every thing as if we were conjurers, 
 or he in a public-house. For my part, I could not 
 bestir myself any how ; I had been so much used to 
 my late mas'ter and mistress, all was upside down 
 with me, and the new servants in the servants' hall 
 
 * Childer: this is the manner in which many of/Thady's 
 rank, and others in Ireland, formerly pronounced the word 
 children.
 
 14 CASTLE RACKRENT. 
 
 were quite out of my way ; I had nobody to talk to- 
 and if it had not been for my pipe and tobacco, 
 should, I verily believe, have broke my heart for poor 
 sir Murtagh. 
 
 But one morning my new master caught a glimpse 
 of me as I was looking at his horse's heels, in hopes 
 of a word from him. " And is that old Thady?" 
 says he, as he got into his gig: I loved him from that 
 day to this, his voice was so like the family ; and he 
 threw me a guinea out of his waistcoat pocket, as he 
 drew up the reins with the other hand, his horse 
 rearing too ; I thought I never set my eyes on a finer 
 figure of a man, quite another sort from sir Murtagh, 
 though withal, to me, a family likeness. A fine life we 
 should have led, had he staid amongst us, God bless 
 him ! He valued a guinea as little as any man : 
 money to him was no more than dirt, and his gentle- 
 man and groom, and all belonging to him, the same ; 
 but the sporting season over, he grew tired of the 
 place, and having got down a great architect for the 
 house, and an improver for the grounds, and seen 
 their plans and elevations, he fixed a day for settling 
 with the tenants, but went off in a whirlwind to 
 town, just as some of them came into the yard in 
 the morning. A circular letter came next post from 
 the new agent, with news that the master was sailed 
 for England, and he must remit 500/. to Bath for his 
 use before a fortnight was at an end ; bad news still 
 for the poor tenants, no change still for the better 
 with them. Sir Kit Rackrent, my young master, left 
 all to the agent ; and though he had the spirit of a
 
 CASTLE RACKRENT. 15 
 
 prince, and lived away to the honour of his country 
 abroad, which I was proud to hear of, what were we 
 the better for that at home ? The agent was one of 
 your middle men,* who grind the face of the poor, 
 and can never bear a man with a hat upon his head : 
 he ferretted the tenants out of their lives; not a week 
 without a call for money, drafts upon drafts from 
 sir Kit ; but I laid it all to the fault of the agent ; 
 for, says I, what can sir Kit do with so much cash, 
 and he a single man? but still it went. Rents must 
 be all paid up to the day, and afore ; no allowance for 
 
 * Middle men. There was a class of men termed middle men 
 in Ireland, who took large farms on long leases from gentlemen 
 of landed property, and set the land again in small portions to 
 the poor, as under-tenants, at exorbitant rents. The head land- 
 lord, as he was called, seldom saw his under-tenants ; but if he 
 could not get the middle man to pay him his rent punctually, he 
 went to his land, and drove the land for his rent, that is to say, 
 he sent his steward or bailiff, or driver, to the land to seize the 
 cattle, hay, corn, flax, oats, or potatoes, belonging to the under- 
 tenants, and proceeded to sell these for his rents : it sometimes 
 happened that these unfortunate tenants paid their rent twice over, 
 once to the middle man, and once to the head landlord. 
 
 The characteristics of a middle man loere, servility to his su- 
 periors, and tyranny towards his inferiors : the poor detested this 
 race of beings. In speaking to them, however, they always used 
 the most abject language, and the most humble tone and posture. 
 " Please your honour ; and phase your honour's honour," 
 they knew must be repeated as a charm at the beginning and end 
 of every equivocating, exculpatory, or supplicatory sentence ; and 
 they were much more alert in doffing their caps to these new 
 men, than to those of what they call good old families. A witty 
 carpenter once termed these middle men journeymen gentlemen.
 
 ID CASTLE RACKRENT. 
 
 improving tenants, no consideration for those who 
 had built upon their farms : no sooner was a lease 
 out, but the land was advertised to the highest 
 bidder, all the old tenants turned out, when they 
 spent their substance in the hope and trust of a 
 renewal from the landlord. All was now set at the 
 highest penny to a parcel of poor wretches, who 
 meant to run away, and did so, after taking two 
 crops out of the ground. Then fining down the 
 year's rent came into fashion ; any thing for the ready 
 penny ; and with all this, and presents to the agent 
 and the driver, there was no such thing as standing 
 it. I said nothing, for I had a regard for the family; 
 but I walked about thinking if his honour sir Kit 
 knew all this, it would go hard with him, but he'd 
 see us righted ; not that I had any thing for my own 
 share to complain of, for the agent was always very 
 civil to me, when he came down into the country, 
 and took a great deal of notice of my son Jason. 
 Jason Quirk, though he be my son, I must say, was 
 a good scholar from his birth, and a very 'cute lad : 
 I thought to make him a priest, but he did better for 
 himself: seeing how he was as good a clerk as any in 
 the county, the agent gave him his rent accounts to 
 copy, which he did first of all for the pleasure of 
 obliging the gentleman, and would take nothing at 
 all for his trouble, but was always proud to serve the 
 family. By-and-bye a good farm boxmding us to the 
 east fell into his honour's hands, and my son put in 
 a proposal for it : why shouldn't he, as well as 
 another ? The proposals all went over to the master
 
 CASTLE KACKKENT. 17 
 
 at the Bath, who knowing no more of the land than 
 the child unborn, only having once been out a 
 grousing on it before he went to England ; and the 
 value of lands, as the agent informed him, falling 
 every year in Ireland, his honour wrote over in all 
 haste a bit of a letter, saying he left it all to the 
 agent, and that he must set it as well as he could to 
 the best bidder, to be sure, and send him over 2001. 
 by return of post : with this the agent gave me a 
 hint, and I spoke a good word for my son, and gave 
 out in the country that nobody need bid against us. 
 So his proposal was just the thing, and he a good 
 tenant ; and he got a promise of an abatement in the 
 rent, after the first year, for advancing the half year's 
 rent at signing the lease, which was wanting to com- 
 plete the agent's 2001., by the return of the post, 
 with all which my master wrote back he was well 
 satisfied. About this time we learned from the agent 
 as a great secret, how the money went so fast, and 
 the reason of the thick coming of the master's drafts: 
 he was a litle too fond of play ; and Bath, they say, 
 was no place for a young man of his fortune, where 
 there were so many of his own countrymen too 
 hunting him up and down, day and night, who had 
 nothing to lose. At last, at Christmas, the agent 
 wrote over to stop the drafts, for he could raise no 
 more money on bond or mortgage, or from the 
 tenants, or any how, nor had he any more to lend 
 himself, and desired at the same time to decline the 
 agency for the future, wishing sir Kit his health and 
 happiness, and the compliments of the season, for I 
 c i
 
 18 CASTLE RACKRENT. 
 
 saw the letter before ever it was sealed, when my son 
 copied it. When the answer came, there was a new 
 turn in affairs, and the agent was turned out; and my 
 son Jason, who had corresponded privately with his 
 honour occasionally on business, was forthwith desired 
 by his honour to take the accounts into his own 
 hands, and look them over till further orders. It 
 was a very spirited letter to be sure : sir Kit sent his 
 service, and the compliments of the season, in return 
 to the agent, and he would fight him with pleasure 
 to-morrow, or any day, for sending him such a letter, 
 if he was born a gentleman, which he was sorry (for 
 both their sakes) to find (too late) he was not. 
 Then, in a private postscript, he condescended to tell 
 us, that all would be speedily settled to his satis- 
 faction, and we should turn over a new leaf, for he 
 was going to be married in a fortnight to the grandest 
 heiress in England, and had only immediate occasion 
 at present for 200/., as he would not choose to touch 
 his lady's fortune for travelling expences home to 
 Castle Rackrent, where lie intended to be, wind and 
 weather permitting, early in the next month ; and 
 desired fires, and the house to be painted, and the 
 new building to go on as fast as possible, for the 
 reception of him and his lady before that time ; M'ith 
 several words besides in the letter, which we could 
 not make out, because, God bless him ! he wrote in 
 such a flurry. My heart warmed to my new lady 
 when I read this ; I was almost afraid it was too 
 good news to be true ; but the girls fell to scouring, 
 and it was well they did, for M'e soon saw his mar-
 
 CASTLE RACKRENT. ]9 
 
 riage in the paper to a lady with I don't know how 
 many tens of thousand pounds to her fortune : then 
 I watched the post-office for his landing ; and the 
 news came to my son of his and the bride being in 
 Dublin, and on the way home to Castle Rackrent. 
 We had bonfires all over the country, expecting him 
 down the next day, and we had his coming of age 
 still to celebrate, which he had not time to do pro- 
 perly before he left the country ; therefore a great 
 ball was expected, and great doings upon his coming, 
 as it were, fresh to take possession of his ancestors' 
 estate. I never shall forget the day he came home : 
 we had waited and waited all day long till eleven 
 o'clock at night, and I was thinking of sending the 
 boy to lock the gates, and giving them up for that 
 night, \vhen there came the carriages thundering up 
 to the great hall door. I got the first sight of the 
 bride ; for Avhen the carriage door opened, just as she 
 had her foot on the steps, I held the flam full in her 
 face to light her, at which she shut her eyes, but I 
 had a full view of the rest of her, and greatly shocked 
 I was, for by that light she was little better than a 
 blackamoor, and seemed crippled, but that was only 
 sitting so long in the chariot. " You're kindly wel- 
 come to Castle Rackrent, my lady," says I (recol- 
 lecting who she was) ; " did your honour hear of the 
 bonfires ? " His honour spoke never a word, nor so 
 much as handed her up the steps he looked to me 
 no more like himself thari nothing at all ; I know I 
 took him for the skeleton of his honour : I was not 
 sure what to say next to one or t'other, but seeing 
 c2
 
 iJU CASTLE RACKHENT. 
 
 she was a stranger in a foreign country, I thought it 
 but right to speak cheerful to her, so I went back 
 again to the bonfires. " My lady/' says I, as she 
 crossed the hall, " there would have been fifty times 
 as many, but for fear of the horses and frightening 
 your ladyship : Jason and I forbid them, please your 
 honour." With that she looked at me a little be- 
 wildered. " Will I have a fire lighted in the state 
 room to-night ? " was the next question I put to her, 
 but never a word she answered, so I concluded she 
 could not speak a word of English, and was from 
 foreign parts. The short and the long of it was I 
 couldn't tell what to make of her ; so I left her to 
 herself, and went straight down to the servants' hall 
 to learn something for certain about her. Sir Kit's 
 own man was tired, but the groom set him a talking at 
 last, and we had it all out before ever I closed my eyes 
 that night. The bride might well be a great fortune 
 she was a Jewish by all accounts, who are famous 
 for their great riches. I had never seen any of that 
 tribe or nation before, and could only gather, that she 
 spoke a strange kind of English of her own, that she 
 could not abide pork or sausages, and went neither 
 to church or mass. Mercy upon his honour's poor 
 soul, thought I ; what will become of him and his, and 
 all of us, with his heretic blackamoor at the head of 
 the Castle Rackrent estate ! I never slept a wink 
 all night foi* thinking of it ; but before the servants 
 I put my pipe in my mouth, and kept my mind to 
 myself ; for I had a great regard for the family ; 
 and after this, when strange gentlemen's servants
 
 CASTLE BACKRENT. 21 
 
 came to the house, and would begin to talk about 
 the bride, I took care to put the best foot foremost, 
 and passed her for a nabob in the kitchen, which ac- 
 counted for her dark complexion and every thing. 
 
 The very morning after they came home, however, 
 I saw how things were plain enough between Sir Kit 
 and my lady, though they were walking together 
 arm in arm after breakfast, looking at the new build- 
 ing and the improvements. " Old Thady," said my 
 master, just as he used to do, " how do you do?" 
 " Very well, I thank your honour's honour," said I ; 
 but I saw he was not well pleased, and my heart was 
 in my mouth as I walked along after him. " Is the 
 large room damp, Thady ? " said his honour. " Oh, 
 damp, your honour ! how should it but be as dry as 
 a bone," says I, " after all the fires we have kept in 
 it day and night? it's the barrack room your honour's 
 talking on." " And what is a barrack-room, pray, 
 my dear ? " were the first words I ever heard out of 
 my lady's lips. " No matter, my dear ! " said he, and 
 went on talking to me, ashamed like I should wit- 
 ness her ignorance. To be sure, to hear her talk 
 one might have taken her for an innocent, for it was, 
 "what's this, sir Kit? and what's that, sir Kit?" 
 all the way we went. To be sure, sir Kit had 
 enough to do to answer her. " And what do you 
 call that, sir Kit ? " said she, " that, that looks like 
 a pile of black bricks, pray, sir Kit ? " " My turf 
 stack, my dear," said my master, and bit his lip. 
 Where have you lived, my lady, all your life, not to 
 know a turf stack when you see it, thought I, but I
 
 &Z CASTLE RACKRENT. 
 
 said nothing. Then, by-and-bye, she takes out her 
 glass, and begins spying over the country. " And 
 what's all that black swamp out yonder, sir Kit ? " 
 says she. " My bog, my dear," says he, and went on 
 whistling. " It's a very ugly prospect, my dear," 
 says she. " You don't see it, my dear," says he, 
 " for we've planted it out, when the trees grow up 
 in summer time," says he. " Where are the trees," 
 said she, " my dear ?" still looking through her glass. 
 " You are blind," my dear, says he ; " what are these 
 under your eyes?" " These shrubs," said she. 
 " Trees," said he. " May be they are what you call 
 trees in Ireland, my dear," said she ; " but they are 
 not a yard high, are they ?" " They were planted 
 out but last year, my lady," says I, to soften matters 
 between them, for I saw she was going the way to 
 make his honour mad with her ? " they are very well 
 grown for their age, and you'll not see the bog of 
 Allyballycarricko'shaughlin at-all-at-all through the 
 skreen, when once the leaves come out. But, my 
 lady, you must not quarrel with any part or parcel of 
 Allyballycarricko'shaughlin, for you don't know how 
 many hundred years that same bit of bog has been 
 in the family ; we would not part with the bog of 
 Allyballycarricko'shaughlin upon no account at all ; it 
 cost the late Sir Murtagh two hundred good pounds 
 to defend his title to it and boundaries against the 
 O'Leary's, who cut a road through it." Now one 
 would have thought this would have been hint 
 enough foi my lady, but she fell to laughing like one 
 out of their right mind, and made me say the name
 
 CASTLE RACKBENT. 23 
 
 of the bog over for her to get it by heart, a dozen times 
 then she must ask me how to spell it, and what 
 was the meaning of it in English sir Kit standing 
 by whistling all the while ; I verily believed she laid 
 the corner stone of all her future misfortunes at that 
 very instant ; but I said no more, only looked at sir 
 Kit. 
 
 There were no balls, no dinners, no doings ; the 
 country was all disappointed sir Kit's gentleman 
 said in a whisper to me, it was all my lady's own 
 fault, because she was so obstinate about the cross. 
 " What cross ? " says I ; "is it about her being a 
 heretic?" "Oh, no such matter," says he ; "my 
 master does not mind her heresies, but her diamond 
 cross, it's worth I can't tell you how much ; and she 
 has thousands of English pounds concealed in dia- 
 monds about her, which she as good as promised to 
 give up to my master before he married, but now she 
 won't part with any of them, and she must take the 
 consequences." 
 
 Her honey-moon, at least her Irish honey-moon, 
 was scarcely well over, when his honour one morning 
 said to me, " Thady, buy me a pig ! " and then 
 the sausages were ordered, and here was the first 
 open breaking-out of my lady's troubles. My lady 
 came down herself into the kitchen, to speak to the 
 cook about the sausages, and desired never to see 
 them more at her table. Now my master had or- 
 dered them, and my lady knew that. The cook took 
 my lady's part, because she never came down into 
 the kitchen, and \vas young and innocent in house-
 
 24 CASTLE RACKRENT. 
 
 keeping, which raised her pity ; besides, said she, at 
 her own table, surely, my lady should order and dis- 
 order what she pleases ; but the cook soon changed 
 her note, for my master made it a principle to have 
 the sausages, and swore at her for a Jew herself, till 
 he drove her fairly out of the kitchen ; then, for fear 
 of her place, and because he threatened that my lady 
 should give her no discharge without the sausages, 
 she gave up, and from that day forward always sau- 
 sages, or bacon, or pig meat in some shape or other, 
 went up to table ; upon which my lady shut herself up 
 in her own room, and my master said she might stay 
 there, with an oath : and to make sure of her, he 
 turned the key in the door, and kept it ever after in 
 his pocket. We none of us ever saw or heard her 
 speak for seven years after that : * he carried her 
 
 * This part of the history of the Rackrent family can scarcely 
 be thought credible ; but in justice to honest Thady, it is hoped 
 the reader will recollect the history of the celebrated lady Cath- 
 cart's conjugal imprisonment. The editor was acquainted with 
 colonel M'Guire, lady Cathcart's husband ; he has lately seen 
 and questioned the maid-servant who lived with colonel M'Guire 
 during the time of lady Cathcart's imprisonment. Her ladyship 
 was locked up in her own house for many years ; during which 
 period her husband was visited by the neighbouring gentry, and 
 it was his regular custom at dinner to send his compliments to 
 lady Cathcart, informing her that the company had the honour 
 to drink her ladyship's health, and begging to know whether 
 there was any thing at table that she would like to eat ? the 
 answer was always, " Lady Cathcart's compliments, and she has 
 every thing she wants." An instance of honesty in a poor Irish 
 woman deserves to be recorded : Lady Cathcart had some 
 remarkably fine diamonds, which she had concealed from her
 
 CASTLE HACKRENT. 25 
 
 dinner himself. Then his honour had a great deal 
 of company to dine with him, and balls in the house, 
 and was as gay and gallant, and as much himself as 
 before he was married ; and at dinner he always 
 drank my lady Rackrent's good health, and so did 
 the company, and he sent out always a servant, with 
 his compliments to my lady Rackrent, and the com- 
 pany was drinking her ladyship's health, and begged 
 to know if there was any thing at table he might 
 
 husband, and which she was anxious to get out of the house, 
 lest he should discover them. She had neither servant nor friend 
 to whom she could entrust them ; but she had observed a poor 
 beggar woman, who used to come to the house ; she spoke to her 
 from the window of the room in which she was confined ; the 
 woman promises to do what she desired, and lady Cathcart threw 
 a parcel, containing the jewels, to her. The poor woman carried 
 them to the person to whom they were directed ; and several 
 years afterwards, when lady Cathcart recovered her liberty, she 
 received her diamonds safely. 
 
 At colonel M'Guire's death her ladyship was released. The 
 editor, within this year, saw the gentleman who accompanied her 
 to England after her husband's death. When she first was told 
 of his death, she imagined that the news was not true, and that 
 it was told only with an intention of deceiving her. At his death 
 she had scarcely clothes sufficient to cover her ; she wore a red 
 wig, looked scared, and her understanding seemed stupified ; she 
 said that she scarcely knew one human creature from another ; 
 her imprisonment lasted above twenty years. These circum- 
 stances may appear strange to an English reader; but there is no 
 danger in the present times, that any individual should exercise 
 such tyranny as colonel M'Guire's with impunity, the power 
 being now all in the hands of government, and there being no 
 possibility of obtaining from parliament an act of indemnity for 
 any cruelties. '''"
 
 26 CASTLE RACKRENT. 
 
 send her ; and the man came back, after the sham 
 errand, with my lady Rackrent's compliments, and 
 she was very much obliged to sir Kit she did not 
 wish for any thing, but drank the company's health. 
 The country, to be sure, talked and wondered at my 
 lady's being shut up, but nobody chose to interfere 
 or ask any impertinent questions, for they knew my 
 master was a man very apt to give a short answer 
 himself, and likely to call a man out for it afterwards ; 
 he was a famous shot ; had killed his man before 
 he came of age, and nobody scarce dared look at him 
 whilst at Bath. Sir Kit's character was so well 
 known in the country, that he lived in peace and 
 quietness ever after, and was a great favourite with 
 the ladies, especially when in process of time, in the 
 fifth year of her confinement, my lady Rackrentf ell 
 ill, and took entirely to her bed, and he gave out that 
 she was now skin and bone, and could not last 
 through the winter. In this he had two physicians' 
 opinions to back him (for now he called in two phy- 
 sicians for her), and tried all his arts to get the 
 diamond cross from her on her death-bed, and to get 
 her to make a will in his favour of her separate pos- 
 sessions ; but there she was too tough for him. He 
 used to swear at her behind her back, after kneeling 
 to her to her face, and call her in the presence of his 
 gentleman his stiff-necked Israelite, though before 
 he married her, that same gentleman told me he used 
 to call her (how he could bring it out, I don't know) 
 " my pretty Jessica ! " To be sure it must have been 
 hard for her to guess what sort of a husband he
 
 CASTLE RACKRENT. 27 
 
 reckoned to make her. When she was lying, to all 
 expectation, on her death-bed of a broken heart, I 
 could not but pity her, though she was a Jewish ; 
 and considering too it was no fault of hers to be 
 taken with my master so young as she was at the Bath, 
 and so fine a gentleman as sir Kit was when he 
 courted her ; and considering too, after all they had 
 heard and seen of him as a husband, there were now 
 no less than three ladies in our county talked of for 
 his second wife, all at daggers drawn with each 
 other, as his gentleman swore, at the balls, for sir 
 Kit for their partner, I could not but think them 
 bewitched ; but they all reasoned with themselves, 
 that sir Kit would make a good husband to any 
 Christian but a Jewish, I suppose, and especially as 
 he was now a reformed rake ; and it was not known 
 how my lady's fortune \vas settled in her will, nor 
 how the Castle Rackrent estate was all mortgaged, 
 and bonds out against him, for he was never cured 
 of his gaming tricks ; but that was the only fault he 
 had, God bless him. 
 
 My lady had a sort of fit, and it was given out she 
 was dead, by mistake : this brought things to a sad 
 crisis for my poor master, one of the three ladies 
 showed his letters to her brother, and claimed his 
 promises, whilst another did the same. I don't men- 
 tion names. Sir Kit, in his defence, said he would 
 meet any man who dared to question his conduct, and 
 as to the ladies, they must settle it amongst them 
 who was to be his second, and his third, and his 
 fourth, whilst his first was still alive, to his morti-
 
 Z CASTLE RACKRENT. 
 
 fication and theirs. Upon this, as upon all former 
 occasions., he had the voice of the country with him, 
 on account of the great spirit and propriety he acted 
 with. He met and shot the first lady's brother ; the 
 next day he called out the second, who had a wooden 
 leg ; and their place of meeting by appointment being 
 in a new ploughed field, the wooden-leg man stuck 
 fast in it. Sir Kit, seeing his situation, with great 
 candour fired his pistol over his head ; upon which 
 the seconds interposed, and convinced the parties 
 there had been a slight misunderstanding between 
 them ; thereupon they shook hands cordially, and 
 went home to dinner together. This gentleman, to 
 show the world how they stood together, and by the 
 advice of the friends of both parties, to re-establish 
 his sister's injured reputation, went out with sir Kit 
 as his second, and carried his message next day to 
 the last of his adversaries : I never saw him in such 
 fine spirits as that day he went out sure enough he 
 was within ames-ace of getting quit handsomely of all 
 his enemies ; but unluckily, after hitting the tooth 
 pick out of his adversary's finger and thumb, he 
 received a ball in a vital part, and was brought home, 
 in little betterthan an hour after the affair, speechless 
 on a hand-barrow, to my lady. We got the key out 
 of his pocket the first thing we did, and my son 
 Jason ran to unlock the barrack-room, where my lady 
 had been shut up for seven years, to acquaint her 
 with the fatal accident. The surprise bereaved her 
 of her senses at first, nor would she believe but we 
 were putting some new trick upon her, to entrap her
 
 CASTLE RACKRENT. 29 
 
 out of her jewels, for a great while, till Jason be- 
 thought himself of taking her to the window, and 
 showed her the men bringing sir Kit up the avenue 
 upon the hand-barrow, which had immediately the 
 desired effect ; for directly she burst into tears, and 
 pulling her cross from her bosom, she kissed it with 
 as great devotion as ever I witnessed ; and lifting up 
 her eyes to heaven, uttered some ejaculation, which 
 none present heard ; but I take the sense of it to be, 
 she returned thanks for this unexpected interposition 
 in her favour when she had least reason to expect it. 
 My master was greatly lamented : there was no life 
 in him when we lifted him off the barrow, so he was 
 laid out immediately, and naked the same night. 
 The country was all in an uproar about him, and 
 not a soul but cried shame upon his murderer ; who 
 would have been hanged surely, if he could have 
 been brought to his trial, whilst the gentlemen in 
 the country were up about it ; but he very prudently 
 withdrew himself to the continent before the affair 
 was made public. As for the young lady, who was 
 the immediate cause of the fatal accident, however 
 innocently, she could never show her head after at 
 the balls in the county or any place ; and by the 
 advice of her friends and physicians, she was ordered 
 soon after to Bath, where it was expected, if any 
 where on this side of the grave, she would meet with 
 the recovery of her health and lost peace of mind. 
 Asa proof of his great popularity, I need only add, 
 that there was a song made upon my master's un- 
 timely death in the newspapers, which was in every
 
 30 CASTLE RACKRENT. 
 
 body's mouth, singing up and down through the 
 country, even down to the mountains, only three 
 days after his unhappy exit. He was also greatly 
 bemoaned at the Curragh, where his cattle were well 
 known ; and all who had taken up his bets formerly 
 were particularly inconsolable for his loss to society. 
 His stud sold at the cant at the greatest price ever 
 known in the county ; his favourite horses were 
 chiefly disposed of amongst his particular friends, 
 who would give any price for them for his sake ; but 
 no ready money was required by the new heir, who 
 wished not to displease any of the gentlemen of the 
 neighbourhood just upon his coming to settle amongst 
 them ; so a long credit was given where requisite, 
 and the cash has never been gathered in from that 
 day to this. 
 
 But to return to my lady : She got surprisingly 
 well after my master's decease. No sooner was it 
 known for certain that he was dead, than all the 
 gentlemen within twenty miles of us came in a 
 body, as it were, to set my lady at liberty, and to 
 protest against her confinement, which they now for 
 the first time understood was against her own con- 
 sent. The ladies too were as attentive as possible, 
 striving who should be foremost with their morning 
 visits ; and they that saw the diamonds spoke very 
 handsomely of them, but thought it a pity they were 
 not bestowed, if it had so pleased God, upon a lady 
 who would have become them better. All these 
 civilities wrought little with my lady, for she had 
 taken an unaccountable prejudice against the country,
 
 CASTLE RACKRENT. 31 
 
 and every thing belonging to it, and was so partial 
 to her native land, that after parting with the cook, 
 which she did immediately upon my master's decease, 
 I never knew her easy one instant, night or day, but 
 when she was packing up to leave us. Had she 
 meant to make any stay in Ireland, I stood a great 
 chance of being a great favourite with her ; for 
 when she found I understood the weathercock, she 
 was always finding some pretence to be talking to 
 me, and asking me which way the wind blew, and 
 was it likely, did I think, to continue fair for 
 England. But when I saw she had made up her 
 mind to spend the rest of her days upon her own 
 income and jewels in England, I considered her quite 
 a a foreigner, and not at all any longer as part of 
 the family. She gave no vails to the servants at 
 Castle Rackrent at parting, notwithstanding the old 
 proverb of " as rich as a Jew," which, she being a 
 Jewish, they built upon with reason. But from first 
 to last she brought nothing but misfortunes amongst 
 us ; and if it had not been all along with her, his 
 honour, sir Kit, would have been now alive in all 
 appearance. Her diamond cross was, they say, at 
 the bottom of it all ; and it was a shame for her, 
 being his wife, not to show more duty, and to have 
 given it up when he condescended to ask so often for 
 such a bit of a trifle in his distresses, especially when 
 he all along made it no secret he married for money. 
 But we will not bestow another thought upon her. 
 This much I thought it lay upon my conscience to 
 say, in justice to my poor master's memory.
 
 32 CASTLE RACKRENT. 
 
 Tis an ill wind that blows nobody no good the 
 same wind that took the Jew lady Rackrent over to 
 England brought over the new heir to Castle Rack- 
 rent. 
 
 Here let me pause for breath in my story, for 
 though I had a great regard for every member of the 
 family, yet without compare sir Conolly, commonly 
 called, for short, amongst his friends, sir Condy 
 Rackrent, was ever my great favourite, and, indeed, 
 the most universally beloved man I had ever seen or 
 heard of, not excepting his great ancestor sir Patrick, 
 to whose memory he, amongst other instances of 
 generosity, erected a handsome marble stone in the 
 church of Castle Rackrent, setting forth in large 
 letters his age, birth, parentage, and many other 
 virtues, concluding with the compliment so justly 
 due, that " sir Patrick Rackrent lived and died a 
 monument of old Irish hospitality."
 
 CONTINUATION OP THE MEMOIRS 
 
 OF THE 
 
 RACKRENT FAMILY. 
 
 HISTORY OF SIR CONOLLY RACKRENT. 
 
 SIR CONDY RACKRENT, by the grace of God heir 
 at law to the Castle Rackrent estate, was a remote 
 branch of the family : born to little or no fortune of 
 his own, he was bred to the bar ; at which, having 
 many friends to push him, and no mean natural 
 abilities of his own, he doubtless would, in process 
 of time, if he could have borne the drudgery of that 
 study, have been rapidly made king's counsel, at the 
 least ; but things were disposed of otherwise, and he 
 never went the circuit but twice, and then made no 
 figure for want of a fee, and being unable to speak 
 in public. He received his education chiefly in the 
 college of Dublin ; but before he came to years of 
 discretion lived in the country, in a small but slated 
 house, within view of the end of the avenue. I 
 remember him bare footed and headed, running 
 through the street of O'Shaughlin's town, and play- 
 ing at pitch and toss, ball, marbles, and what not, 
 with the boys of the town, amongst whom my son 
 Jason was a great favourite with him. As for me, 
 he was ever my white-headed boy : often's the time 
 D *
 
 34 CASTLE RACKRENT. 
 
 when I would call in at his father's, where I was 
 always made welcome ; he would slip down to me in 
 the kitchen, and love to sit on my knee, whilst I told 
 him stories of the family, and the blood from which 
 he was sprung, and how he might look forward, if 
 the then present man should die without childer, to 
 being at the head of the Castle Rackrent estate. 
 This was then spoke quite and clear at random to 
 please the child, but it pleased Heaven to accomplish 
 my prophecy afterwards, which gave him a great 
 opinion of my judgment in business. He went to a 
 little grammar-school with many others, and my son 
 amongst the rest, who was in his class, and not a 
 little useful to him in his book learning, which he 
 acknowledged with gratitude ever after. These 
 rudiments of his education thus completed, he got a- 
 horseback, to which exercise he was ever addicted, 
 and used to gallop over the country while yet but a 
 slip of a boy, under the care of sir Kit's huntsman, 
 who was very fond of him, and often lent him his 
 gun, and took him out a-shooting under his own 
 eye. By these means he became well acquainted 
 and popular amongst the poor in the neighbourhood 
 early ; for there was not a cabin at which he had 
 not stopped some morning or other, along with the 
 huntsman, to drink a glass of burnt whiskey out of 
 an eggshell, to do him good and warm his heart, and 
 drive the cold out of his stomach. The old people 
 always told him he was a great likeness of sir 
 Patrick ; which made him first have an ambition to 
 take after him, as far as his fortune should allow.
 
 CASTLE RACKRENT. 35 
 
 He left us when of an age to enter the college, and 
 there completed his education and nineteenth year ; 
 for as he was not born to an estate, his friends 
 thought it incumbent on them to give him the best 
 education which could be had for love or money ; 
 and a great deal of money consequently was spent 
 upon him at college and Temple. He was a very 
 little altered for the worse by what he saw there of 
 the great world ; for when he came down into the 
 country, to pay us a visit, we thought him just the 
 same man as ever, hand and glove with every one, 
 and as far from high, though not without his own 
 proper share of family pride, as any man ever you 
 see. Latterly, seeing how sir Kit and the Jewish 
 lived together, and that there was no one between 
 him and the Castle Rackrent estate, he neglected to 
 apply to the law as much as was expected of him ; 
 and secretly many of the tenants, and others, 
 advanced him cash upon his note of hand value 
 received, promising bargains of leases and lawful 
 interest, should he ever come into the estate. All 
 this was kept a great secret, for fear the present 
 man, hearing of it, should take it into his head to 
 take it ill of poor Condy, and so should cut him off 
 for ever, by levying a fine, and suffering a recovery 
 to dock the entail. Sir Murtagh would have been 
 the man for that ; but sir Kit was too mucii taken 
 up philandering to consider the law in this case, or 
 any other. These practices I have mentioned, to 
 account for the state of his affairs, I mean sir Condy's, 
 upon his coming into the Castle Rackrent estate. He 
 
 D2
 
 36 CASTLE RACKRENt. 
 
 could not command a penny of his first year's income; 
 which, and keeping no accounts, and the great sight 
 of company he did, with many other causes too nu- 
 merous to mention, was the origin of his distresses. 
 My son Jason, who was now established agent, and 
 knew every thing, explained matters out of the face 
 to sir Conolly, and made him sensible of his embar- 
 rassed situation. With a great nominal rent-roll, 
 it was almost all paid away in interest ; which being 
 for convenience suffered to run on, soon doubled the 
 principal, and sir Condy was obliged to pass new 
 bonds for the interest, now grown principal, and so 
 on. Whilst this was going on, my son requiring to 
 be paid for his trouble, and many years' service in the 
 family gratis, and sir Condy not willing to take his 
 affairs into his own hands, or to look them even in 
 the face, he gave my son a bargain of some acres, 
 which fell out of lease, at a reasonable rent. Jason 
 set the land, as soon as his lease was sealed, to under 
 tenants, to make the rent, and got two hundred a- 
 year profit rent ; which was little enough considering 
 his long agency. He bought the land at twelve 
 years' purchase two years afterwards, when sir Condy 
 was pushed for money on an execution, and was at 
 the same time allowed for his improvements thereon. 
 There was a sort of hunting-lodge upon the estate, 
 convenient to my son Jason's land, which he had his 
 eye upon about this time ; and he was a little jealous 
 of sir Condy, who talked of setting it to a stranger, 
 who was just come into the country Captain Money- 
 gawl M~as the man. He was son and heir to the
 
 CASTLE RACKRENT. 37 
 
 Moneygawls of Mount Juliet's town, who had a great 
 estate in the next county to ours ; and my master was 
 loth to disoblige the young gentleman, whose heart 
 was set upon the lodge ; so he wrote him back, that 
 the lodge was at his service, and if he would honour 
 him with his company at Castle Rackrent, they could 
 ride over together some morning, and look at it, be- 
 fore signing the lease. Accordingly the captain came 
 over to us, and he and sir Condy grew the greatest 
 friends ever you see, and were for ever out a-shooting 
 or hunting together, and were very merry in the 
 evenings; and sir Condy was invited of course to 
 Mount Juliet's town ; and the family intimacy that 
 had been in sir Patrick's time was now recollected, 
 and nothing would serve sir Condy but he must be 
 three times a- week at the least with his new friends, 
 which grieved me, who knew, by the captain's groom 
 and gentleman, how they talked of him at Mount 
 Juliet's town, making him quite, as one may say, a 
 laughingstock and a butt for the whole company ; 
 but they were soon cured of that by an accident that 
 surprised 'em not a little, as it did me. There was 
 a bit of a scrawl found upon the waiting-maid of old 
 Mr. Moneygawl's youngest daughter, miss Isabella, 
 that laid open the whole ; and her father, they say, 
 was like one out of his right mind, and swore it was 
 the last thing he ever should have thought of, when 
 he invited my master to his house, that his daughter 
 should think of such a match. But their talk signi- 
 fied not a straw, for, as miss Isabella's maid reported, 
 her young mistress was fallen over head and ears in
 
 38 CASTLE HACKRENT. 
 
 love with sir Condy, from the first time that ever her 
 brother brought him into the house to dinner : the 
 servant who waited that day behind my master's 
 chair was the first who knew it, as he says ; though 
 it's hard to believe him, for he did not tell till a great 
 while afterwards ; but, however, it's likely enough, 
 as the thing turned out, that he was not far out of 
 the way; for towards the middle of dinner, as he says, 
 they were talking of stage-plays, having a playhouse, 
 and being great play-actors at Mount Juliet's town ; 
 and miss Isabella turns short to my master, and says, 
 " Have you seen the play-bill, sir Condy ? " " No> 
 I have not," said he. " Then more shame for you," 
 said the captain her brother, " not to know that my 
 sister is to play Juliet to-night, who plays it better 
 than any woman on or off the stage in all Ireland." 
 " I am very happy to hear it," said sir Condy ; and 
 there the matter dropped for the present. But sir 
 Condy all this time, and a great while afterwards, 
 was at a terrible nonplus ; for he had no liking, not 
 he, to stage-plays, nor to miss Isabella either ; to his 
 mind, as it came out over a bowl of whiskey punch 
 at home, his little Judy M 'Quirk, who was daughter 
 to a sister's son of mine, was worth twenty of miss 
 Isabella. He had seen her often when he stopped at 
 her father's cabin to drink whiskey out of the egg- 
 shell, out hunting, before he came to the estate, and, 
 as she gave out, was under something like a pro- 
 mise of marriage to her. Any how, I could not but 
 pity my poor master, who was so bothered between 
 them, and he an easy-hearted man, that could not
 
 CASTLE RACKRENT. 39 
 
 disoblige nobody, God bless him ! To be sure, it was 
 not his place to behave ungenerous to miss Isabella, 
 who had disobliged all her relations for his sake, as 
 he remarked ; and then she was locked up in her 
 chamber, and forbid to think of him any more, whir.h 
 raised his spirit, because his family was, as he ob- 
 served, as good as theirs at any rate, and the Rack- 
 rents a suitable match for the Moneygawls any day 
 in the year : all which was true enough ; but it 
 grieved me to see, that upon the strength of all this, 
 sir Condy was growing more in the mind to carry off 
 miss Isabella to Scotland, in spite of her relations, as 
 she desired. 
 
 " It's all over with our poor Judy ! " said I, with a 
 heavy sigh, making bold to speak to him one night 
 when he was a little cheerful, and standing in the 
 servants' hall all alone with me, as was often his 
 custom. " Not at all," said he ; "I never was fonder 
 of Judy than at this present speaking ; and to prove 
 it to you," said he, and he took from my hand a 
 halfpenny, change that I had just got along with my 
 tobacco, " and to prove it to you, Thady," says he, 
 " it's a toss up with me which I should marry this 
 minute, her or Mr. Moneygawl of Mount Juliet's 
 town's daughter so it is." " Oh, boo! boo!"* says 
 I, making light of it, to see what he would go on 
 to next ; " your honour's joking, to be sure ; there's 
 no compare between our poor Judy and miss Isabella, 
 who has a great fortune, they say." " I'm not a man 
 
 * Boo ! boo ! an exclamation equivalent to pshaw or nonsense.
 
 40 CASTLE RACKRENT. 
 
 to mind a fortune, nor never was/' said Sir Condy, 
 proudly, "whatever her friends may say; and to make 
 short of it/' says he, " I'm come to a determination 
 upon the spot ; " with that he swore such a terrible 
 oath, as made me cross myself; "and by this book," 
 said he, snatching up my ballad book, mistaking it 
 for my prayer book, which lay in the M'indow ; "and 
 by this book," says he, " and by all the books that 
 ever were shut and opened, it's come to a toss-up with 
 me, and I'll stand or fall by the toss ; and so, Thady, 
 hand me over that pin* out of the ink-horn/' and he 
 makes a cross on the smooth side of the halfpenny ; 
 " Judy M 'Quirk," says he, " her mark."t God bless 
 him ! his hand was a little unsteadied by all the 
 whiskey punch he had taken, but it was plain to see 
 his heart was for poor Judy. My heart Avas all as 
 one as in my mouth when I saw the halfpenny up 
 in the air, but I said nothing at all ; and when it 
 came down, I was glad I had kept myself to myself, 
 for to be sure now it was all over with poor Judy. 
 
 * Pin, read pen. It formerly was vulgarly pronounced fin 
 in Ireland. 
 
 -h Her mark. It was the custom in Ireland for those who 
 could not write to make a cross to stand for their signature, as 
 was formerly the practice of our English monarchs. The Editor 
 inserts the fac-simile of an Irish 'mark, which may hereafter be 
 valuable to a judicious antiquary 
 
 Her 
 Judy X M 'Quirk, 
 
 Mark. 
 
 In bonds or notes, signed in this manner, a witness is requisite, 
 as the name is frequently written by him or her.
 
 CASTLE RACKRENT. 41 
 
 " Judy's out a luck," said I, striving to laugh. "I'm 
 out a luck," said he ; and I never saw a man look so 
 cast down : he took up the halfpenny off the flag, and 
 walked a\vay quite sober-like by the shock. Now, 
 though as easy a man, you would think, as any in the 
 wide world, there was no such thing as making him 
 unsay one of these sort of vows,* which he had 
 learned to reverence when young, as I well remem- 
 ber teaching him to toss up for bog-berries on my 
 knee. So I saw the affair was as good as settled 
 between him and miss Isabella, and I had no more to 
 say but to wish her joy, which I did the week after- 
 wards, upon her return from Scotland with my poor 
 master. 
 
 My new lady was young, as might be supposed of 
 a lady that had been carried off, by her own consent, 
 to Scotland ; but I could only see her at first through 
 her veil, which, from bashfulness or fashion, she kept 
 over her face. "And am I to walk through all this 
 crowd of people, my dearest love ? " said she to sir 
 Condy, meaning us servants and tenants, who had 
 
 * Vows. It has been maliciously and unjustly hinted, that 
 the lower classes of the people in Ireland pay but little regard to 
 oaths ; yet it is certain that some oaths or vows have great power 
 over their minds. Sometimes they swear they will be revenged 
 on some of their neighbours ; this is an oath that they are never 
 known to break. But, what is infinitely more extraordinary and 
 unaccountable, they sometimes make and keep a vow against 
 whiskey; these vows are usually limited to a short time. A 
 woman who has a drunken husband is most fortunate if she can 
 prevail upon him to go to the priest, and make a vow against 
 whiskey for a year, or a month, or a week, or a day.
 
 42 CASTLE BACKRENT. 
 
 gathered at the back gate. "My dear/' said sir 
 Condy, "there's nothing for it but to walk, or to 
 let me carry you as far as the house, for you see the 
 back road is too narrow for a carriage, and the great 
 piers have tumbled down across the front approach ; 
 so there's no driving the right way, by reason of the 
 ruins." " Plato, thou reasonest well ! " said she, or 
 words to that effect, which I could no ways under- 
 stand; and again, when her foot stumbled against a 
 broken bit of a car-wheel, she cried out, "Angels 
 and ministers of grace defend us ! " Well, thought 
 I, to be sure if she's no Jewish, like the last, she is a 
 mad woman for certain, which is as bad : it would 
 have been as well for my poor master to have taken 
 up with poor Judy, who is in her right mind, any 
 how. 
 
 She was dressed like a mad woman, moreover, 
 more than like any one I ever saw afore or siuce, and 
 I could not take my eyes off her, but still followed 
 behind her, and her feathers on the top of her hat 
 were broke going in at the low back door, and she 
 pulled out her little bottle out of her pocket to smell 
 to when she found herself in the kitchen, and said, 
 " I shall faint with the heat of this odious, odious 
 place." " My dear, it's only three steps across the 
 kitchen, and there's a fine air if your veil was up," 
 said sir Condy, and with that threw back her veil, 
 so that I had then a full sight of her face ; she had 
 not at all the colour of one going to faint, but a fine 
 complexion of her own, as I then took it to be, 
 though her maid told me after it was all put on ; but
 
 CASTLE RACKRENT. 43 
 
 even complexion and all taken in, she was no way, in 
 point of good looks, to compare to poor Judy ; and 
 vrith all she had a quality toss with her; but may be 
 it was my over-partiality to Judy, into whose place 
 I may say she stept, that made me notice all this. 
 To do her justice, however, she was, when we came 
 to know her better, very liberal in her housekeeping, 
 nothing at all of the skin-flint in her ; she left every 
 thing to the housekeeper ; and her own maid, Mrs. 
 Jane, who went with her to Scotland, gave her the 
 best of characters for generosity. She seldom or ever 
 wore a thing twice the same way, Mrs. Jane told us, 
 and was always pulling her things to pieces, and 
 giving them away, never being used, in her father's 
 house, to think of expence in any thing; and she 
 reckoned, to be sure, to go on the same way at Castle 
 Rackrent ; but, when I came to inquire, I learned 
 that her father was so mad with her for running off, 
 after his locking her up, and forbidding her to think 
 any more of sir Condy, that he would not give her a 
 farthing ; and it was lucky for her she had a few 
 thousands of her own, which had been left to her by 
 a good grandmother, and these were very convenient 
 to begin with. My master and my lady set out in 
 great style ; they had the finest coach and chariot, 
 and horses and liveries, and cut the greatest dash in 
 the county, returning their \vedding visits ; and it 
 was immediately reported, that her father had under- 
 taken to pay all my master's debts, and of course all 
 his tradesmen gave him a new credit, and every 
 thing went on smack smooth, and I could not but
 
 44 CASTLE RACKRENT. 
 
 admire my lady's spirit, and was proud to see Castle 
 Rackrent again in all its glory. My lady had a fine 
 taste for building, and furniture, and playhouses, and 
 she turned every thing topsy-turvy, and made the 
 barrack-room into a theatre, as she called it, and she 
 went on as if she had a mint of money at her elbow ; 
 and, to be sure, I thought she knew best, especially as 
 sir Condy said nothing to it one way or the other. 
 All he asked, God bless him ! was to live in peace and 
 quietness, and have his bottle or his whiskey punch 
 at night to himself. Now this was little enough, to 
 be sure, for any gentleman ; but my lady couldn't 
 abide the smell of the whiskey punch. " My dear," 
 says he, " you liked it well enough before we were 
 married, and why not now ? " "My dear," said she, 
 " I never smelt it, or I assure you I should never 
 have prevailed upon myself to marry you." " My 
 dear, I am sorry you did not smell it, but we can't 
 help that now," returned my master, without putting 
 himself in a passion, or going out of his way, but 
 just fair and easy helped himself to another glass, and 
 drank it off to her good health. All this the butler 
 told me, who was going back\vards and forwards un- 
 noticed with the jug, and hot water, and sugar, and 
 all he thought wanting. Upon my master's swal- 
 lowing the last glass of whiskey punch my lady 
 burst into tears, calling him an ungrateful, base, bar- 
 barous wretch ! and went off into a fit of hysterics, 
 as I think Mrs. Jane called it, and my poor master 
 was greatly frightened, this being the first thing of 
 the kind he had seen ; and he fell straight on his
 
 CASTLE RACKUENT. 45 
 
 knees before her, and, like a good-hearted cratur as 
 he was, ordered the whiskey punch out of the room, 
 and bid 'em throw open all the windows, and cursed 
 himself: and then my lady came to herself again, 
 and when she saw him kneeling there bid him get 
 up, and not forswear himself any more, for that she 
 was sure he did not love her, nor never had : this we 
 learnt from Mrs. Jane, who was the only person left 
 present at all this. " My dear," returns my master, 
 thinking, to be sure, of Judy, as well he might, 
 " whoever told you so is an incendiary, and I'll have 
 'em turned out of the house this minute, if you'll 
 only let me know which of them it was." " Told 
 me what?" said my lady, starting upright in her 
 chair. " Nothing at all, nothing at all," said my 
 master, seeing he had overshot himself, and that my 
 lady spoke at random ; " but what you said just 
 now, that I did not love you, Bella ; who told you 
 that ? " " My own sense," she said, and she put her 
 handkerchief to her face, and leant back upon Mrs. 
 Jane, and fell to sobbing as if her heart would 
 break. " Why now, Bella, this is very strange of 
 you," said my poor master ; " if nobody has told you 
 nothing, what is it you are taking on for at this 
 rate, and exposing yourself and me for this way ? " 
 " Oh, say no more, say no more ; every word you 
 say kills me," cried my lady ; and she ran on like 
 one, as Mrs. Jane says, raving, " Oh, sir Condy, sir 
 Condy ! I that had hoped to tind in you " 
 " Why now, faith, this is a little too much ; do, 
 Bella, try to recollect yourself, my dear ; am not I
 
 46 CASTLE RACKRENT. 
 
 your husband, and of your own choosing ; and is not 
 that enough ? " " Oh, too much ! too much !" cried 
 my lady, wringing her hands. " Why, my dear, 
 come to your right senses, for the love of heaven. 
 See, is not the whiskey punch, jug and bowl, and 
 all, gone out of the room long ago ? What is it, in 
 the wide world, you have to complain of ? " But 
 still my lady sobbed and sobbed, and called herself 
 the most wretched of women ; and among other out- 
 of-the-way provoking things, asked my master, was 
 he fit for company for her, and he drinking all night ? 
 This nettling him, which it was hard to do, he re- 
 plied, that as to drinking all night, he was then as 
 sober as she was herself, and that it was no matter 
 how much a man drank, provided it did no ways 
 affect or stagger him : that as to being fit company 
 for her, he thought himself of a family to be fit 
 company for any lord or lady in the land; but that 
 he never prevented her from seeing and keeping 
 what company she pleased, and that he had done his 
 best to make Castle Rackrent pleasing to her since 
 her marriage, having always had the house full of 
 visitors, and if her own relations were not amongst 
 them, he said that was their own fault, and their 
 pride's fault, of which he was sorry to find her lady- 
 ship had so unbecoming a share. So concluding, he 
 took his candle and walked off to his room, and my 
 lady was in her tantarums for three days after ; and 
 would have been so much longer, no doubt, but some 
 of her friends, young ladies, and cousins, and second 
 cousins, came to Castle Rackrent, by my poor mas-
 
 CASTLE RACKBENT. 47 
 
 ter's express invitation, to see her, and she was in a 
 hurry to get up, as Mrs. Jane called it, a play for 
 them, and so got well, and was as finely dressed, and 
 as happy to look at, as ever ; and all the young 
 ladies, who used to be in her room dressing of her, 
 said, in Mrs. Jane's hearing, that my lady was the 
 happiest bride ever they had seen, and that to be 
 sure a love-match was the only thing for happiness, 
 where the parties could any way afford it. 
 
 As to affording it, God knows it was little they 
 knew of the matter ; my lady's few thousands could 
 not last for ever, especially the way she went on with 
 them, and letters from tradesfolk came every post 
 thick and threefold with bills as long as my arm, of 
 years' and years' standing; my son Jason had 'em all 
 handed over to him, and the pressing letters were 
 all unread by sir Condy, who hated trouble, and 
 could never be brought to hear talk of business, but 
 still put it off and put it off, saying, settle it any 
 how, or bid 'em call again to-morrow, or speak to me 
 about it some other time. Now it was hard to find 
 the right time to speak, for in the mornings he was 
 a-bed, and in the evenings over his bottle, \vhere no 
 gentleman chooses to be disturbed. Things in a 
 twelvemonth or so came to such a pass there was no 
 making a shift to go on any longer, though we were 
 all of us well enough used to live from hand to 
 mouth at Castle Rackrent. One day, I remember, 
 when there was a power of company, all sitting after 
 dinner in the dusk, not to say dark, in the drawing- 
 room, my lady having rung five times for candles,
 
 48 CASTLE RACKRENT. 
 
 and none to go up, the housekeeper sent up the foot- 
 man, who went to my mistress, and whispered behind 
 her chair how it was. " My lady^" says he, " there 
 are no candles in the house." " Bless me," says she, 
 " then take a horse and gallop off as fast as you can 
 to Carrick O'Fungus, and get some." " And in the 
 mean time tell them to step into the playhouse, and 
 try if there are not some bits left," added sir Condy, 
 who happened to be within hearing. The man was 
 sent up again to my lady, to let her know there was 
 no horse to go, but one that wanted a shoe. " Go to 
 sir Condy, then ; I know nothing at all about the 
 horses," said my lady ; " why do you plague me 
 with these things ? " How it was settled I really 
 forget, but to the best of my remembrance, the boy 
 was sent down to my son Jason's to borrow candles 
 for the night. Another time in the winter, and on 
 a desperate cold day, there was no turf in for the 
 parlour and above stairs, and scarce enough for the 
 cook in the kitchen ; the little gossoon * was sent off 
 to the neighbours, to see and beg or borrow some, 
 but none could he bring back with him for love or 
 money ; so as needs must, we were forced to trouble 
 sir Condy " Well, and if there's no turf to be had 
 
 * Gossoon, a little boy from the French word gar yon. In 
 most Irish families there used to be a barefooted gossoon, who 
 was slave to the cook and the butler, and who in fact, without 
 wages, did all the hard work of the house. Gossoons were 
 always employed as messengers. The Editor has known a gos- 
 soon to go on foot, without shoes or stockings, fifty-one English 
 miles between sunrise and sunset.
 
 CASTLE RACKRENT. 49 
 
 in the town or country, why what signifies talking 
 any more about it ; can't ye go and cut down a 
 tree ? " " Which tree, please your honour ? " I 
 made bold to say. " Any tree at all that's good to 
 burn," said sir Condy ; " send off smart and get one 
 down, and the fires lighted, before my lady gets up 
 to breakfast, or the house will be too hot to hold us." 
 He was always very considerate in all things about 
 my lady, and she wanted for nothing whilst he had 
 it to give. Well, when things were tight with them 
 about this time, my son Jason put in a word again 
 about the lodge, and made a genteel offer to lay 
 down the purchase-money, to relieve sir Condy's 
 distresses. Now sir Condy had it from the best 
 authority, that there were two writs come down to 
 the sheriff against his person, and the sheriff, as ill 
 luck would have it, was no friend of his, and talked 
 how he must do his duty, and how he would do it, if 
 it was against the first man in the country, or even 
 his own brother ; let alone one who had voted against 
 him at the last election, as sir Condy had done. So 
 sir Condy was fain to take the purchase-money of 
 the lodge from my son Jason to settle matters ; and 
 sure enough it was a good bargain for both parties, 
 for my son bought the fee-simple of a good house for 
 him and his heirs for ever, for little or nothing, and 
 by selling of it for that same, my master saved himself 
 from a gaol. Every way it turned out fortunate for 
 sir Condy ; for before the money was all gone there 
 came a general election, and he being so well be- 
 loved in the county, and one of the oldest families, 
 E i
 
 50 CASTLE RACKHENT. 
 
 no one had a better right to stand candidate for the 
 vacancy ; and he was called upon by all his friends, 
 and the whole county I may say, to declare himself 
 against the old member, who had little thought of a 
 contest. My master did not relish the thoughts of 
 a troublesome canvass, and all the ill-will he might 
 bring upon himself by disturbing the peace of the 
 county, besides the expence, \vhich was no trifle; 
 but all his friends called upon one another to sub- 
 scribe, and they formed themselves into a committee, 
 and wrote all his circular letters for him, and en- 
 gaged all his agents, and did all the business un- 
 known to him ; and he was well pleased that it 
 should be so at last, and my lady herself Avas very 
 sanguine about the election ; and there was open 
 house kept night and day at Castle Rackrent, and I 
 thought I never saw my lady look so well in her life 
 as she did at that time ; there were grand dinners, 
 and all the gentlemen drinking success to sir Condy 
 till they were carried off; and then dances and 
 balls, and the ladies all finishing with a raking pot 
 of tea in the morning. Indeed it was well the com- 
 pany made it their choice to sit up all nights, for 
 there were not half beds enough for the sights of 
 people that were in it, though there were shake- 
 downs in the drawing-room always made up before 
 sunrise for those that liked it. For my part, when 
 I saw the doings that were going on, and the loads 
 of claret that \vent down the throats of them that 
 had no right to be asking for it, and the sights of 
 meat that went up to table and never came down,
 
 CASTLE RACKRENT. 51 
 
 besides what was carried off to one or t'other below 
 stairs, I could'nt but pity my poor master, who was 
 to pay for all ; but I said nothing, for fear of gain- 
 ing myself ill-will. The day of election will come 
 some time or other, says I to myself, and all will be 
 over ; and so it did, and a glorious day it was as any 
 I ever had the happiness to see. " Huzza ! huzza ! 
 sir Condy Rackrent for ever ! " was the first thing I 
 hears in the morning, and the same and nothing else 
 all day, and not a soul sober only just when polling, 
 enough to give their votes as became 'em, and to 
 stand the browbeating of the lawyers, who came 
 tight enough upon us ; and many of our freeholders 
 were knocked off, having never a freehold that they 
 could safely swear to, and sir Condy was not willing 
 to have any man perjure himself for his sake, as was 
 done on the other side, God knoAvs, but no matter 
 for that. Some of our friends were dumb- founded, 
 by the lawyers asking them : Had they ever been 
 upon the ground where their freeholds lay ? Now 
 sir Condy being tender of the consciences of them 
 that had not been on the ground, and so could not 
 swear to a freehold when cross-examined by them 
 lawyers, sent out for a couple of cleaves-full of the sods 
 of his farm of Gulteeshinnagh : * and as soon as the 
 
 * At St. Patrick's meeting, London, March, 1806, the duke 
 of Sussex said he had the honour of bearing an Irish tide, and, 
 with the permission of the company, he should tell them an anec- 
 dote of what he had experienced on his travels. When he was 
 at Rome, he went to visit an Irish seminary, and when they 
 heard who he was, and that he had an Irish title, some of them 
 E 2
 
 52 CASTLE RACKRENT. 
 
 sods came into town he set each man upon his sod, 
 and so then, ever after, you know, they could fairly 
 swear they had been upon the ground.* We gained 
 the day by this piece of honesty. I thought I should 
 have died in the streets for joy when I seed my 
 poor master chaired, and he bareheaded, and it 
 raining as hard as it could pour ; but all the 
 crowds following him up and down, and he bowing 
 and shaking hands with the whole town. " Is that 
 sir Condy Rackrent in the chair ? " says a stranger 
 man in the crowd. " The same," says I ; " who 
 else should it be ? God bless him ! " " And I take 
 it, then, you belong to him ? " says he. " Not at 
 all," says I; " but I live under him, and have done 
 so these two hundred years and upwards, me and 
 mine." " It's lucky for you, then," rejoins he, 
 " that he is where he is ; for was he any where else 
 but in the chair, this minute he'd be in a worse 
 place ; for I was sent down on purpose to put him 
 up,t and here's my order for so doing in my pocket." 
 It was a writ that villain the wine merchant had 
 marked against my poor master for some hundreds 
 of an old debt, which it was a shame to be talking 
 
 asked him, " Please your Royal Highness, since you are an 
 Irish peer, will you tell us if you ever trod upon Irish ground ? " 
 When he told them he had not, " O then," said one of the 
 order, " you shall soon do so." They then spread some earth, 
 which had been brought from Ireland, on a marble slab, and 
 made him stand upoti it. 
 
 * This was actually done at an election in Ireland. 
 
 j- To put hint up to put him in gaol.
 
 CASTLE RACKRENT. 53 
 
 of at such a time as this. " Put it in your pocket 
 again, and think no more of it any ways for seven 
 years to come, my honest friend," says I ; " he's a 
 member of parliament now, praised be God, and 
 such as you can't touch him : and if you'll take a 
 fool's advice, I'd have you keep out of the way this 
 day, or you'll run a good chance of getting your 
 deserts amongst my master's friends, unless you 
 choose to drink his health like every body else." 
 " I've no objection to that in life," said he ; so we 
 went into one of the public houses kept open for my 
 master ; and we had a great deal of talk about this 
 thing and that. " And how is it," says he, " your 
 master keeps on so well upon his legs? I heard say 
 he was off Holantide twelvemonth past." " Never 
 was better or heartier in his life," said I. " It's not 
 that I'm after speaking of," said he ; " but there was 
 a great report of his being ruined." " No matter," 
 says I, " the sheriffs two years running were his par- 
 ticular friends, and the sub-sheriffs were both of them 
 gentlemen, and were properly spoken to ; and so the 
 writs lay snug with them, and they, as I understand 
 by my son Jason the custom in them cases is, re- 
 turned the writs as they came to them to those that 
 sent 'em ; much good may it do them ! with a word 
 in Latin, that no such person as sir Condy Rackrent, 
 bart., was to be found in those parts." " Oh, I un- 
 derstand all those ways better, no offence, than you," 
 says he, laughing, and at the same time filling his 
 glass to my master's good health, which convinced 
 me he was a warm friend in his heart after all,
 
 54 CASTLE BACKRENT. 
 
 though appearances were a little suspicious or so at 
 first. " To be sure/' says he, still cutting his joke, 
 " when a man's over head and shoulders in debt, he 
 may live the faster for it, and the better, if he goes 
 the right way about it ; or else how is it so many 
 live on so well, as we see every day, after they are 
 ruined ? " " How is it," says I, being a little merry 
 at the time; " how is it but just as you see the ducks 
 in the chicken-yard, just after their heads are cut 
 off by the cook, running round and round faster 
 than when alive?" At which conceit he fell a 
 laughing, and remarked he had never had the happi- 
 ness yet to see the chicken-yard at Castle Rackrent. 
 " It won't be long so, I hope," says I ; " you'll be 
 kindly welcome there, as every body is made by my 
 master ; there is not a freer spoken gentleman, or a 
 better beloved, high or low, in all Ireland." And of 
 what passed after this I'm not sensible, for we drank 
 sir Condy's good health and the downfall of his 
 enemies till we could stand no longer ourselves. 
 And little did I think at the time, or till long after, 
 how I was harbouring my poor master's greatest of 
 enemies myself. This fellow had the impudence, 
 after coming to see the chicken-yard, to get me to 
 introduce him to my son Jason ; little more than the 
 man that never was born did I guess at his meaning 
 by this visit : he gets him a correct list fairly drawn 
 out from my son Jason of all my master's debts, and 
 goes straight round to the creditors and buys them 
 all up, which he did easy enough, seeing the half of 
 them never expected to see their money out of sir
 
 CASTLE RACKRENT. 55 
 
 Condy's hands. Then, when this base-minded limb 
 of the law, as I afterward detected him in being, 
 grew to be sole creditor over all, he takes him out a 
 custodiam on all the denominations and sub-denomi- 
 nations, and every carton and half carton upon the 
 estate ; and not content with that, must have an ex- 
 ecution against the master's goods and down to the 
 furniture, though little worth, of Castle Rackrent 
 itself. But this is a part of my story I'm not come 
 to yet, and its bad to be forestalling : ill news flies 
 fast enough all the world over. 
 
 To go back to the day of the election, which I 
 never think off but with pleasure and tears of gra- 
 titude for those good times ; after the election was 
 quite and clean over, there comes shoals of people 
 from all parts, claiming to have obliged my master 
 with their votes, and putting him in mind of pro- 
 mises which he could never remember himself to have 
 made ; one was to have a freehold for each of his 
 four sons ; another was to have a renewal of a lease ; 
 another an abatement ; one came to be paid ten 
 guineas for a pair of silver buckles sold my master 
 on the hustings, which turned out to be no better 
 than copper gilt ; another had a long bill for oats, 
 the half of which never went into the granary to my 
 certain knowledge, and the other half were not fit 
 for the cattle to touch ; but the bargain was made 
 the week before the election, and the coach and 
 saddle horses were got into order for the day, besides 
 a vote fairly got by them oats ; so no more reasoning 
 on that head ; but then there was no end to them
 
 56 CASTLE HACKRENT. 
 
 that were telling sir Condy he had engaged to make 
 their sons excisemen, or high constables, or the like ; 
 and as for them that had bills to give in for liquor, 
 and beds, and straw, and ribands, and horses, and 
 postchaises for the gentlemen freeholders that came 
 from all parts and other counties to vote for my 
 master, and were not, to be sure, to be at any charges, 
 there was no standing against all these ; and, worse 
 than all, the gentlemen of my master's committee, 
 who managed all for him, and talked how they'd 
 bring him in without costing him a penny, and sub- 
 scribed by hundreds very genteelly, forgot to pay 
 their subscriptions, and had laid out in agents and 
 lawyers' fees and secret service money the Lord 
 knows how much ; and my master could never ask 
 one of them for their subscription you are sensible, 
 nor for the price of a fine horse he had sold one of 
 them ; so it all was left at his door. He could never, 
 God bless him again! I say, bring himself to ask a 
 gentleman for money, despising such sort of con- 
 versation himself; but others, \vho were not gentle- 
 men born, behaved very uncivil in pressing him at 
 this very time, and all he could do to content 'em all 
 was to take himself out of the way as fast as possible 
 to Dublin, where my lady had taken a house fitting 
 for him as a member of parliament, to attend his duty 
 in there all the winter. I was very lonely when the 
 whole family was gone, and all the things they had 
 ordered to go, and forgot, sent after them by the 
 car. There was then a great silence in Castle 
 Rackent, and I went moping from room to room,
 
 CASTLE RACKRENT. 57 
 
 hearing the doors clap for want of right locks, and 
 the wind through the broken windows, that the 
 glazier never would come to mend, and the rain 
 coming through the roof and best ceilings all over 
 the house for want of the slater, whose bill M r as not 
 paid, besides our having no slates or shingles for that 
 part of the old building which was shingled and 
 burnt when the chimney took fire, and had been open 
 to the Aveather ever since. I took myself to the ser- 
 vants' hall in the evening to smoke my pipe as usual, 
 but missed the bit of talk we used to have there 
 sadly, and ever after was content to stay in the 
 kitchen and boil my little potatoes,* and put up my 
 bed there ; and every post-day I looked in the news- 
 paper, but no news of my master in the house ; he 
 never spoke good or bad; but as the butler wrote 
 down word to my son Jason, was very ill used by the 
 government about a place that was promised him 
 and never given, after his supporting them against 
 his conscience very honourably, and being greatly 
 abused for it, which hurt him greatly, he having the 
 name of a great patriot in the country before. The 
 house and living in Dublin too were not to be had 
 for nothing, and my son Jason said, " Sir Condy 
 must soon be looking out for a new agent, for I've 
 done my part, and can do no more: if my lady had 
 
 * My little potatoes Thady does not mean, by this expres- 
 sion, that his potatoes were less than other people's, or less than 
 the usual size little is here used only as an Italian diminutive, 
 expressive of fondness.
 
 58 CASTLE RACKRENT. 
 
 the bank of Ireland to spend, it would go all in one 
 winter, and sir Condy would never gainsay her, 
 though he does not care the rind of a lemon for her 
 all the while." 
 
 Now I could not bear to hear Jason giving out 
 after this manner against the family, and twenty 
 people standing by in the street. Ever since he had 
 lived at the lodge of his own, he looked down, how- 
 somever, upon poor old Thady, and was grown quite 
 a great gentleman, and had none of his relations near 
 him ; no wonder he was no kinder to poor sir Condy 
 than to his own kith or kin.* In the spring it was 
 the villain that got the list of the debts from him 
 brought down the custodiam, Sir Condy still attend- 
 ing his duty in parliament, and I could scarcely be- 
 lieve my own old eyes, or the spectacles with which 
 I read it, when I was shown my son Jason's name 
 joined in the custodiam ; but he told me it was only 
 for form's sake, and to make things easier than if all 
 the land was under the power of a total stranger. 
 Well, I did not know what to think ; it was hard to 
 be talking ill of my own, and I could not but grieve 
 for my poor master's fine estate, all torn by these 
 vultures of the law ; so I said nothing, but just 
 looked on to see how it would all end. 
 
 It was not till the month of June that he and my 
 lady came down to the country. My master was 
 pleased to take me aside with him to the brewhouse 
 
 * Kith and kin family or relations. Kin from kind ; kith 
 from we know not what.
 
 CASTLE RACKRENT. 59 
 
 that same evening, to complain to me of my son and 
 other matters, in which he said he was confident I 
 had neither art nor part ; he said a great deal more 
 to me, to whom he had been fond to talk ever since 
 he was my white-headed boy, before he came to the 
 estate ; and all that he said about poor Judy I can 
 never forget, but scorn to repeat. He did not say an 
 unkind word of my lady, but wondered, as well he 
 might, her relations would do nothing for him or her, 
 and they in all this great distress. He did not take 
 any thing long to heart, let it be as it would, and 
 had no more malice, or thought of the like in him, 
 than a child that can't speak ; this night it was all 
 out of his head before he went to his bed. He took 
 his jug of whiskey punch my lady was grown quite 
 easy about the whiskey punch by this time, and so I 
 did suppose all was going on right betwixt them, till 
 I learnt the truth through Mrs. Jane, who talked 
 over their affairs to the housekeeper, and I within 
 hearing. The night my master came home thinking 
 of nothing at all bat just making merry, he drank 
 his bumper toast " to the deserts of that old cur- 
 mudgeon my father-in-law, and all enemies at Mount 
 Juliet's town." Now my lady was no longer in the 
 mind she formerly was, and did no ways relish hear- 
 ing her own friends abused in her presence, she 
 said. " Then why don't they show themselves your 
 friends," said my master, " and oblige me with the 
 loan of the money I condescended, by your advice, 
 my dear, to ask ? It's now three posts since I sent 
 off my letter, desiring in the postscript a speedy
 
 60 CASTLE RACK.RENT. 
 
 answer by the return of the post, and no account at 
 all from them yet." " I expect they'll write to me 
 next post/' says my lady, and that was all that 
 passed then ; but it was easy from this to guess 
 there was a coolness betwixt them, and with good 
 cause. 
 
 The next morning, being post-day, I sent off the 
 gossoon early to the post-office, to see was there any 
 letter likely to set matters to rights, and he brought 
 back one with the proper post-mark upon it, sure 
 enough, and I had no time to examine, or make any 
 conjecture more about it, for into the servants' hall 
 pops Mrs. Jane with a blue bandbox in her hand, 
 quite entirely mad. " Dear ma'am, and what's the 
 matter ? " says I. " Matter enough," says she ; 
 " don't you see my bandbox is wet through, and my 
 best bonnet here spoiled, besides my lady's, and all 
 by the rain coming in through that gallery window, 
 that you might have got mended, if you'd had any 
 sense, Thady, all the time we were in town in the 
 winter." " Sure I could not get the glazier, ma'am," 
 says I. " You might have stopped it up any how," 
 says she. " So I did, ma'am, to the best of my 
 ability ; one of the panes with the old pillow-case, 
 and the other with a piece of the old stage green 
 curtain ; sure I was as careful as possible all the 
 time you were away, and not a drop of rain came in 
 at that window of all the wi n dows in the house, all 
 winter, ma'am, when under my care ; and now the 
 family's come home, and it's summer time, I never 
 thought no more about it, to be sure ; but dear, it's
 
 CASTLE KACKRENT. 61 
 
 a pity to think of your bonnet, ma'ara ; but here's 
 what will please you, ma'am, a letter from Mount 
 Juliet's town for my lady." With that she snatches 
 it from me without a word more, and runs up the 
 back stairs to my mistress ; I follows with a slate to 
 make up the window. This window was in the long 
 passage, or gallery, as my lady gave out orders to 
 have it called, in the gallery leading to my master's 
 bedchamber and hers. And when I went up with 
 the slate, the door having no lock, and the bolt spoilt, 
 was a-jar after Mrs. Jane, and as I was busy with 
 the window, I heard all that was saying within. 
 
 " Well, what's in your letter, Bella, my dear ? " 
 says he : " you're a long time spelling it over." 
 " Wont you shave this morning, sir Condy ? " says 
 she, and put the letter into her pocket. " I shaved 
 the day before yesterday," says he, "my dear, and 
 that's not what I'm thinking of now; but any 
 thing to oblige you, and to have peace and quietness, 
 my dear" and presently I had the glimpse of him 
 at the cracked glass over the chimney-piece, standing 
 up shaving himself to please my lady. But she took 
 no notice, but went on reading her book, and Mrs. 
 Jane doing her hair behind. " What is it you're 
 reading there, my dear ? phoo, I've cut myself with 
 this razor ; the man's a cheat that sold it me, but I 
 have not paid him for it yet : what is it you're read- 
 ing there ? did you hear me asking you, my dear ? " 
 " The Sorrows of Werter," replies my lad}', as well 
 as I could hear. " I think more of the sorrows of 
 sir Condy," says my master, joking like. " What
 
 O2 CASTLE RACKRENT. 
 
 news from Mount Juliet's town ? " ' ' No news," 
 says she, " but the old story over again, my friends 
 all reproaching me still for what I can't help now." 
 " Is it for marrying me ? " said my master, still 
 shaving : " what signifies, as you say, talking of 
 that, when it can't be help'd now ? " 
 
 With that she heaved a great sigh, that I heard 
 plain enough in the passage. " And did not you 
 use me basely, sir Condy," says she, " not to tell me 
 you were ruined before I married you ? " " Tell 
 you, my dear," said he ; " did you ever ask me one 
 word about it ? and had not you friends enough of 
 your own, that were telling you nothing else from 
 morning to night, if you'd have listened to them 
 slanders ?" " No slanders, nor are my friends slan- 
 derers ; and I can't bear to hear them treated with 
 disrespect as 1 do," says my lady, and took out 
 her pocket handkerchief; " they are the best of 
 
 friends ; and if I had taken their advice . But 
 
 my father was wrong to lock me up, I own ; that was 
 the only unkind thing I can charge him with ; for if 
 he had not locked me up, I should never have had a 
 serious thought of running away as I did." " Well, 
 my dear," said my master, " don't cry and make 
 yourself uneasy about it now, when it's all over, and 
 you have the man of your own choice, in spite of 'em 
 all." " I was too young, I know, to make a choice 
 at the time you ran away with me, I'm sure," says 
 my lady, and another sigh, which made my master, 
 half shaved as he was, turn round upon her in 
 surprise. " Why, Bell," says he, " you can't deny
 
 CASTLE RACKRENT. 63 
 
 what you know as well as I do, that it was at your 
 own particular desire, and that twice under your own 
 hand and seal expressed, that I should carry you off 
 as I did to Scotland, and marry you there." " Well, 
 say no more about it, sir Condy," said my lady, 
 pettish like " I was a child then, you know." 
 " And as far as I know, you're little better now, my 
 dear Bella, to be talking in this manner to your 
 husband's face; but I won't take it ill of you, for I 
 know it's something in that letter you put into your 
 pocket just now, that has set you against me all on 
 a sudden, and imposed upon your understanding." 
 ". It is not so very easy as you think it, sir Condy, 
 to impose upon my understanding," said my lady. 
 " My dear," says he, " I have, and with reason, the 
 best opinion of your understanding of any man now 
 breathing ; and you know I have never set my own 
 in competition with it till now, my dear Bella," says 
 he, taking her hand from her book as kind as could 
 be " till now, when I have the great advantage of 
 being quite cool, and you not ; so don't believe one 
 word your friends say against your own sir Condy, 
 and lend me the letter out of your pocket, till I see 
 what it is they can have to say." " Take it then," 
 says she, " and as you are quite cool, I hope it is a 
 proper time to request you'll allow me to comply 
 with the wishes of all my own friends, and return 
 to live with my father and family, during the re- 
 mainder of my wretched existence, at Mount Juliet's 
 town." 
 
 At this my poor master fell back a few paces, like
 
 64 CASTLE RACKBENT. 
 
 one that had been shot. " You're not serious, Bella/' 
 says he ; " and could you find it in your heart to 
 leave me this way in the very middle of my distresses, 
 all alone ? *' But recollecting himself after his first 
 surprise, and a moment's time for reflection, he 
 said, with a great deal of consideration for my lady, 
 " Well, Bella, my dear, I believe you are right ; for 
 what could you do at Castle Rackrent, and an execu- 
 tion against the goods coming down, and the furniture 
 to be canted, and an auction in the house all next 
 week ? so you have my full consent to go, since that 
 is your desire, only you must not think of my accom- 
 panying you, which I could not in honour do upon 
 the terms I always have been, since our marriage, 
 with your friends ; besides, I have business to transact 
 at home ; so in the mean time, if we are to have any 
 breakfast this morning, let us go down and have it 
 for the last time in peace and comfort, Bella." 
 
 Then as I heard my master coming to the passage 
 door, I finished fastening up my slate against the 
 broken pane ; and when he came out, I wiped down 
 the window seat with my wig,* and bade him a good 
 
 * Wigs were formerly used instead of brooms in Ireland, for 
 sweeping or dusting tables, stairs, &c. The Editor doubted the 
 fact, till he saw a labourer of the old school sweep down a flight 
 of stairs with his wig ; he afterwards put it on his head again 
 with the utmost composure, and said, ' Oh, please your honour, 
 it's never a bit the worse." 
 
 It must be acknowledged, that these men are not in any danger 
 of catching cold by taking off their wigs occasionally, because 
 they usually have fine crops of hair growing under their wigs.
 
 CASTLE RACKRENT. 65 
 
 morrow as kindly as I could, seeing he was in trouble, 
 though he strove and thought to hide it from me. 
 " This window is all racked and tattered/' says I, 
 " and it's what I'm striving to mend." " It is all 
 racked and tattered, plain enough/' says he, " and 
 never mind mending it, honest old Thady," says he ; 
 " it will do well enough for you and I, and that's all 
 the company we shall have left in the house by-and- 
 bye." " I'm sorry to see your honour so low this 
 morning," says I ; " but you'll be better after taking 
 your breakfast." " Step down to the servants' hall," 
 says he, " and bring me up the pen and ink into the 
 parlour, and get a sheet of paper from Mrs. Jane, for 
 I have business that can't brook to be delayed ; and 
 come into the parlour with the pen and ink yourself, 
 Thady, for I must have you to witness my signing a 
 paper I have to execute in a hurry." Well, while I 
 was getting of the pen and ink-horn, and the sheet 
 of paper, I ransacked my brains to think what could 
 be the papers my poor master could have to execute 
 in such a hurry, he that never thought of such a 
 thing as doing business afore breakfast, in the whole 
 course of his life, for any man living ; but this was 
 for my lady, as I afterwards found, and the more 
 genteel of him after all her treatment. 
 
 I was just witnessing the paper that he had 
 scrawled over, and was shaking the ink out of my 
 
 The wigs are often yellow, and the hair which appears from 
 beneath them black ; the wigs are usually too small, and are 
 raised up by the hair beneath, or by the ears of the wearers. 
 
 F '
 
 66 CASTLE RACKRENT. 
 
 pen upon the carpet, when my lady came into break- 
 fast, and she started as if it had been a ghost ! as 
 veil she might, when she saw sir Condy writing at 
 this unseasonable hour. " That will do very well, 
 Thady," says he to me, and took the paper I had 
 signed to, without knowing what upon the earth it 
 might be, out of my hands, and walked, folding it 
 up, to my lady. 
 
 " You are concerned in this, my lady Rackrent," 
 says he, putting it into her hands ; " and I beg you'll 
 keep this memorandum safe, and show it to your 
 friends the first thing you do when you get home ; 
 but put it in your pocket now, my dear, and let us 
 eat our breakfast, in God's name." " What is all 
 this ? " said my lady, opening the paper in great 
 curiosity. " It's only a bit of a memorandum of 
 what I think becomes me to do whenever I am able," 
 says my master ; " you know my situation, tied hand 
 and foot at the present time being, but that can't 
 last always, and when I'm dead and gone, the land 
 M'ill be to the good, Thady, you know; and take 
 notice, it's my intention your lady should have a clear 
 five hundred a year jointure off the estate afore any 
 of my debts are paid." ' Oh, please your honour," 
 says I, " I can't expect to live to see that time, 
 being now upwards of fourscore years of age, and you 
 a young man, and likely to continue so, by the help 
 of God." I was vexed to see my lady so insensible 
 too, for all she said \vas, " This is very genteel of 
 you, sir Condy. You need not wait any longer, 
 Thady;" so I just picked up the pen and ink that
 
 CASTLE RACKRENT. 67 
 
 had tumbled on the floor, and heard my master 
 finish with saying, " You behaved very genteel to 
 me, my dear, when you threw all the little you had 
 in your own power along with yourself, into my 
 hands ; and as I don't deny but what you may have 
 had some things to complain of," to be sure he was 
 thinking then of Judy, or of the whiskey punch, one 
 or t'other, or both, if and as I don't deny but you 
 may have had something to complain of, my dear, it is 
 but fair you should have something in the form of 
 compensation to look forward to agreeably in future ; 
 besides, it's an act of justice to myself, that none of 
 your friends, my dear, may ever have it to say against 
 me, I married for money, and not for love." " That 
 is the last thing I should ever have thought of say- 
 ing of you, sir Condy," said my lady, looking very 
 gracious. " Then, my dear," said sir Condy, " we 
 shall part as good friends as we met ; so all's right." 
 
 I was greatly rejoiced to hear this, and went out 
 of the parlour to report it all to the kitchen. The 
 next morning my lady and Mrs. Jane set out for 
 Mount Juliet's town in the jaunting car : many won- 
 dered at my lady's choosing to go away, considering 
 all things, upon the jaunting car, as if it was only a 
 party of pleasure ; but they did not know, till I told 
 them, that the coach was all broke in the journey 
 down, and no other vehicle but the car to be had ; 
 besides, my lady's friends were to send their coach to 
 meet her at the cross roads ; so it was all done very 
 proper. 
 
 My poor master was in great trouble after my lady 
 F 2
 
 CASTLE RACKRENT. 
 
 left us. The execution came down ; and every thing 
 at Castle Rackrent was seized by the gripers, and 
 my son Jason, to his shame be it spoken, amongst 
 them. I wondered, for the life of me, how he could 
 harden himself to do it ; but then he had been study- 
 ing the law, and had made himself attorney Quirk ; 
 so he brought down at once a heap of accounts upon 
 my master's head. To cash lent, and to ditto, and to 
 ditto, and to ditto, and oats, and bills paid at the mil- 
 liner's and linen draper's, and many dresses for the 
 fancy balls in Dublin for my lady, and all the bills to 
 the workmen and tradesmen for the scenery of the 
 theatre, and the chandler's and grocer's bills, and 
 tailor's, besides butcher's and baker's, and worse than 
 all, the old one of that base wine merchant's, that 
 wanted to arrest my poor master for the amount on 
 the election day, for \vhich amount sir Condy after- 
 wards passed his note of hand, bearing lawful interest 
 from the date thereof; and the interest and compound 
 interest was now mounted to a terrible deal on many 
 other notes and bonds for money borrowed, and there 
 was besides hush money to the sub-sheriffs, and sheets 
 upon sheets of old and new attorneys' bills, with 
 heavy balances, as per former account furnished, 
 brought forward with interest thereon ; then there 
 was a powerful deal due to the crown for sixteen 
 years' arrear of quit-rent of the town-lands of Carrick- 
 shaughlin, with driver's fees, and a compliment to 
 the receiver every year for letting the quit-rent run 
 on, to oblige sir Condy, and sir Kit afore him. 
 Then there were bills for spirits and ribands at the
 
 CASTLE RACKRENT. 69 
 
 election time, and the gentlemen of the committee's 
 accounts unsettled, and their subscription never 
 gathered ; and there were cows to be paid for, with 
 the smith and farrier's bills to be set against the 
 rent of the demesne, with calf and hay money ; then 
 there was all the servants' wages, since I don't know 
 when, coming due to them, and sums advanced for 
 them by my son Jason for clothes, and boots, and 
 whips, and odd moneys for sundries expended by 
 them in journeys to town and elsewhere, and pocket- 
 money for the master continually, and messengers 
 and postage before his being a parliament man ; I 
 can't myself tell you what besides ; but this I know, 
 that when the evening came on the w,hich sir Condy 
 had appointed to settle all with my son Jason, and 
 when he comes into the parlour, and sees the sight 
 of bills and load of papers all gathered on the 
 great dining-table for him, he puts his hands before 
 both his eyes, and cried out, " Merciful Jasus ! what 
 is it I see before me ? " Then I sets an arm-chair at 
 the table for him, and with a deal of difficulty he 
 sits him down, and my son Jason hands him over the 
 pen and ink to sign to this man's bill and t'other 
 man's bill, all which he did without making the least 
 objections. Indeed, to give him his due, I never seen 
 a man more fair and honest, and easy in all his 
 dealings, from first to last, as sir Condy, or more 
 willing to pay every man his own as far as he was 
 able, which is as much as any one can do. " Well/' 
 says he, joking like with Jason, " I wish we could 
 settle it all Avith a stroke of my grey goose quill.
 
 70 CASTLE RACKRENT. 
 
 What signifies making me wade through all this 
 ocean of papers here ; can't you now, who under- 
 stand drawing out an account, debtor and creditor, 
 just sit down here at the corner of the table, and get 
 it done out for me, that I may have a clear view of 
 the balance, which is all I need be talking about, 
 you know ? " " Very true, sir Condy ; nobody un- 
 derstands business better than yourself," says Jason. 
 " So I've a right to do, being born and bred to the 
 bar," says sir Condy. " Thady, do step out and see 
 are they bringing in the things for the punch, for 
 we've just done all we have to do for this evening." 
 I goes out accordingly, and when I came back, Jason 
 was pointing to the balance, which was a terrible sight 
 to my poor master. " Pooh ! pooh ! pooh ! " says he, 
 " here's so many noughts they dazzle my eyes, so they 
 do, and put me in mind of all I suffered, laming of 
 my numeration table, when I was a boy at the day- 
 school along with you, Jason units, tens, hundreds, 
 tens of hundred. Is the punch ready, Thady?" says 
 he, seeing me. " Immediately ; the boy has the jug in 
 his hand; it's coming up stairs, please your honour, 
 as fast as possible," says I, for I saw his honour was 
 tired out of his life ; but Jason, very short and cruel, 
 cuts me off with " Don't be talking of punch yet a 
 while ; it's no time for punch yet a bit units, tens, 
 hundreds," goes he on, counting over the master's 
 shoulder, units, tens, hundreds, thousands. " A- 
 a-ah ! hold your hand," cries my master; " where 
 in this wide world am I to find hundreds, or units 
 .itself, let alone thousands? " " The balance has been
 
 CASTLE RACKRENT. 71 
 
 running on too long," says Jason, sticking to him as 
 I could not have done at the time, if you'd have 
 given both the Indies and Cork to boot ; " the balance 
 has been running on too long, and I'm distressed my- 
 self on your account, sir Condy, for money, and the 
 thing must be settled now on the spot, and the balance 
 cleared off," says Jason. " I'll thank you if you'll 
 only show me how," says sir Condy. " There's but one 
 way," says Jason, " and that's ready enough : when 
 there's no cash, what can a gentleman do, but go to 
 the land ? " " How can you go to the land, and it 
 under custodiam to yourself already," says sir Condy, 
 " and another custodiam hanging over it ? and no one 
 at all can touch it, you know, but the custodees." 
 " Sure, can't you sell, though at a loss ? sure you 
 can sell, and I've a purchaser ready for you," says 
 Jason. " Have ye so?" said sir Condy; " that's a 
 great point gained ; but there's a thing now beyond 
 all, that perhaps you don't know yet, barring Thady 
 has let you into the secret." " Sarrah bit of a secret, 
 or any thing at all of the kind, has he learned from 
 me these fifteen weeks come St. John's eve," says I ; 
 " for we have scarce been upon speaking terms of late ; 
 but what is it your honour means of a secret?" 
 " Why, the secret of the little keepsake I gave my 
 lady Rackrent the mornhjg she left us, that she might 
 not go back empty-handed to her friends." " My 
 lady Rackrent, I'm sure, has baubles and keepsakes 
 enough, as those bills on the table will show," says 
 Jason ; " but \vhatever it is," says he, taking up his 
 pen, " we must add it to the balance, for to be sure
 
 T2 CASTLE RACKRENT. 
 
 it. can't be paid for." " No, nor can't till after my 
 decease/' said sir Condy ; " that's one good thing." 
 Then colouring up a good deal, he tells Jason of the 
 memorandum of the five hundred a year jointure he 
 had settled upon my lady ; at which Jason was indeed 
 mad, and said a great deal in very high words, that 
 it was iising a gentleman, who had the management 
 of his affairs, and was moreover his principal creditor, 
 extremely ill, to do such a thing without consulting 
 him, and against his knowledge and consent. To all 
 which sir Condy had nothing to reply, but that upon 
 his conscience, it was in a hurry and without a 
 moment's thought on his part, and he was very sorry 
 for it, but if it was to do over again he would do the 
 same ; and he appealed to me, and I was ready to 
 give my evidence, if that would do, to the truth of 
 all he said. 
 
 So Jason with much ado was brought to agree to 
 a compromise. " The purchaser that I have ready," 
 says he, " will be much displeased, to be sure, at the 
 incumbrance on the land, but I must see and manage 
 him ; here's a deed ready drawn up; we have nothing 
 to do but to put in the consideration money and our 
 names to it." " And how much am I going to sell ? 
 the lands of O'Shaughlin's town, and the lands of 
 Gruneaghoolaghan, and the lands of Crookagnawa- 
 turgh," says he, just reading to himself, " and 
 Oh, murder, Jason ! sure you won't put this in the 
 castle stable, and appurtenances of Castle Rackrent." 
 " Oh, murder ! " says I, clapping my hands, " this is 
 too bad, Jason." " Why so ? " said Jason, " when it's
 
 CASTLE HACKRENT. 73 
 
 all, and a great deal more to the back of it, lawfully 
 mine, was I to push for it." " Look at him," says I, 
 pointing to sir Condy, who was just leaning back in 
 his arm-chair, with his arms falling beside him like 
 one stupified ; " is it you, Jason, that can stand in his 
 presence, and recollect all he has been to us, and all 
 we have been to him, and yet use him so at the 
 last ? " " Who will you find to use him better, I ask 
 you ? " said Jason ; " if he can get a better purchaser, 
 I'm content ; I only offer to purchase, to make things 
 easy and oblige him : though I don't see what com- 
 pliment I am under, if you come to that; I have 
 never had, asked, or charged more than sixpence in 
 the pound, receiver's fees; and where would he have 
 got an agent for a penny less?" "Oh, Jason! Jason! 
 how will you stand to this in the face of the county 
 and all who know you ? " says I ; " and what will 
 people think and say, when they see you living here 
 in Castle Rackrent, and the lawful owner turned out 
 of the seat of his ancestors, without a cabin to put his 
 head into, or so much as a potatoe to eat ? " Jason, 
 whilst I was saying this, and a great deal more, 
 made me signs, and winks, and frowns ; but I took 
 no heed ; for I was grieved and sick at heart for my 
 poor master, and couldn't but speak. 
 
 "Here's the punch," says Jason, for the door 
 opened ; " here's the punch !" Hearing that, my 
 master starts up in his chair, and recollects himself, 
 and Jason uncorks the whiskey. " Set down the jug 
 here," says he, making room for it beside the papers 
 opposite to sir Condy, but still not stirring the deed
 
 74 CASTLE HACKRENT. 
 
 that was to make over all. Well, I was in great 
 hopes he had some touch of mercy about him when 
 I saw him making the punch, and my master took a 
 glass ; but Jason put it back as he was going to till 
 again, saying, " No, sir Condy, it sha'n't be said of 
 me, I got your signature to this deed when you were 
 half-seas over : you know your name and hand- 
 writing in that condition would not, if brought 
 before the courts, benefit me a straw ; wherefore let 
 us settle all before we go deeper into the punch- 
 bowl." "Settle all as you will;" said sir Condy, 
 clapping his hands to his ears ; " but let me hear no 
 more ; I'm bothered to death this night." " You've 
 only to sign," said Jason, putting the pen to him. 
 "Take all, and be content," said my master. So he 
 signed ; and the man who brought in the punch 
 witnessed it, for I was not able, but crying like a 
 child; and besides, Jason said, which I was glad of, 
 that 1 was no fit witness, being so old and doting. It 
 was so bad with me, I could not taste a drop of the 
 punch itself, though my master himself, God bless 
 him ! in the midst of his trouble, poured out a glass 
 for me, and brought it up to my lips. " Not a drop, 
 I thank your honour's honour as much as if I took it 
 though," and I just set down the glass as it was, and 
 went out, and when I got to the street-door, the 
 neighbour's childer, who were playing at marbles 
 there, seeing me in great trouble, left their play, and 
 gathered about me to know what ailed me ; and I 
 told them all, for it was a great relief to me to speak 
 to these poor childer, that seemed to have some
 
 CASTLE RACKRENT. 75 
 
 natural feeling left in them : and when they were 
 made sensible that sir Condy was going to leave 
 Castle Rackrent for good and all, they set up a 
 whillalu that could be heard to the farthest end of 
 the street ; and one fine boy he was, that my master 
 had given an apple to that morning, cried the loud- 
 est, but they all were the same sorry, for sir Condy 
 was greatly beloved amongst the childer, for letting 
 them go a nutting in the demesne, without saying a 
 word to them, though my lady objected to them. 
 The people in the town, who were the most of them 
 standing at their doors, hearing the childer cry, 
 would know the reason of it ; and when the report 
 was made known, the people one and all gathered in 
 great anger against my son Jason, and terror at the 
 notion of his coming to be landlord over them, and 
 they cried, " No Jason ! no Jason ! Sir Condy ! sir 
 Condy ! sir Condy Rackrent for ever ! " and the mob 
 grew so great and so loud, I was frightened, and 
 made my way back to the house to warn my son to 
 make his escape, or hide himself for fear of the con- 
 sequences. Jason would not believe me till they 
 came all round the house, and to the windows with 
 great shouts : then he grew quite pale, and asked 
 sir Condy what had he best do ? " I'll tell you what 
 you'd best do," said sir Condy, who was laughing to 
 see his fright ; " finish your glass first, then let's go 
 to the window and show ourselves, and I'll tell 'em, 
 or you shall, if you please, that I'm going to the 
 Lodge for change of air for my health, and by my 
 own desire, for the rest of my days." " Do so," said
 
 76 CASTLE RACKRENT. 
 
 Jason, \vho never meant it should have been so, but 
 could not refuse him the Lodge at this unseasonable 
 time. Accordingly sir Condy threw up the sash, 
 and explained matters, and thanked all his friends, 
 and bid 'em look in at the punch-bowl, and observe 
 that Jason and he had been sitting over it very good 
 friends ; so the mob was content, and he sent 'em out 
 some whiskey to drink his health, and that was the 
 last time his honour's health was ever drunk at 
 Castle Rackrent. 
 
 The very next day, being too proud, as he said, to 
 me, to stay an hour longer in a house that did not 
 belong to him, he sets off to the Lodge, and I along 
 with him not many hours after. And there was 
 great bemoaning through all O'Shaughlin's town, 
 which I stayed to witness, and gave my poor master 
 a full account of when I got to the Lodge. He was 
 very low and in his bed when I got there, and com- 
 plained of a great pain about his heart, but I guessed 
 it was only trouble, and all the business, let alone 
 vexation, he had gone through of late ; and knowing 
 the nature of him from a boy, I took my pipe, and, 
 whilst smoking it by the chimney, began telling him 
 how he was beloved and regretted in the county, and 
 it did him a deal of good to hear it. " Your honour 
 has a great many friends yet, that you don't know 
 of, rich and poor, in the county," says I ; " for as I 
 was coming along the road, I met two gentlemen in 
 their own carriages, who asked after you, knowing 
 me, and wanted to know where you was and all 
 about you, and even how old I was : think of that."
 
 CASTLE HACKRENT. 77 
 
 Then he wakened out of his dose, and began ques. 
 tioning me who the gentlemen were. And the next 
 morning it came into my head to go, unknown to any 
 body, with my master's compliments, round to many 
 of the gentlemen's houses, where he and my lady 
 used to visit, and people that I knew were his great 
 friends, and would go to Cork to serve him any day 
 in the year, and I made bold to try to borrow a trifle 
 of cash from them. They all treated me very civil 
 for the most part, and asked a great many questions 
 very kind about my lady, and sir Condy, and all 
 the family, and were greatly surprised to learn from 
 me Castle Rackrent was sold, and my master at the 
 Lodge for health ; and they all pitied him greatly, 
 and he had their good wishes, if that would do, but 
 money was a thing they unfortunately had not any 
 of them at this time to spare. I had my journey for 
 my pains, and I, not used to walking, nor supple as 
 formerly, was greatly tired, but had the satisfaction 
 of telling my master, when I got to the Lodge, all 
 the civil things said by high and low. 
 
 " Thady," says he, " all you've been telling me 
 brings a strange thought into my head ; I've a notion 
 I shall not be long for this world any how, and I've 
 a great fancy to see my own funeral afore I die." I 
 was greatly shocked, at the first speaking, to hear 
 him speak so light about his funeral, and he, to all 
 appearance, in good health, but recollecting myself, 
 answered, " To be sure, it would be as fine a sight as 
 one could see, I dared to say, and one I should be 
 proud to witness, and I did not doubt his honour's
 
 7o CASTLE RACKRENT. 
 
 would be as great a funeral as ever sir Patrick 
 O'Shaughlin's was, and such a one as that had never 
 been known in the county afore or since." But I 
 never thought he was in earnest about seeing his 
 own funeral himself, till the next day he returns to 
 it again. " Thady," says he, " as far as the wake* 
 goes, sure I might without any great trouble have 
 the satisfaction of seeing a bit of my own funeral." 
 " Well, since your honour's honour's so bent upon 
 it," says I, not willing to cross him, and he in trouble, 
 " we must see what we can do." So he fell into a 
 sort of a sham disorder, which was easy done, as he 
 kept his bed, and no one to see him ; and I got my 
 shister, who was an old woman very handy about 
 the sick, and very skilful, to come up to the Lodge, 
 to nurse him ; and we gave out, she knowing no 
 better, that he was just at his latter end, and it 
 answered beyond any thing ; and there was a great 
 throng of people, men, women, and childer, and there 
 being only two rooms at the Lodge, except what was 
 locked up full of Jason's furniture and things, the 
 house was soon as full and fuller than it could hold, 
 and the heat, and smoke, and noise wonderful great ; 
 and standing amongst them that were near the bed, 
 but not thinking at all of the dead, I was started by 
 the sound of my master's voice from under the 
 great coats that had been thrown all at top, and I 
 
 * A wake in England is a meeting avowedly for merriment ; 
 in Ireland it is a nocturnal meeting avowedly for the purpose of 
 watching and bewailing the dead ; but, in reality, for gossiping 
 and debaucherv.
 
 CASTLE RACKRENT. 79 
 
 went close up, no one noticing. " Thady," says he, 
 " I've had enough of this ; I'm smothering, and can't 
 hear a word of all they're saying of the deceased." 
 " God bless you, and lie still and quiet," says I, " a 
 bit longer, for my shister's afraid of ghosts, and would 
 die on the spot with fright, was she to eee you 
 come to life all on a sudden this way without the 
 least preparation." So he lays him still, though well 
 nigh stifled, and I made all haste to tell the secret 
 of the joke, whispering to one and t'other, and there 
 was a great surprise, but not so great as we had laid 
 out it would. "And aren't we to have the pipes and 
 tobacco, after coming so far to-night ?" said some ; 
 but they were all well enough pleased \vhen his 
 honour got up to drink with them, and sent for more 
 spirits from a shebean-house,* where they very civilly 
 let him have it upon credit. So the night passed off 
 very merrily, but, to my mind, sir Condy was rather 
 upon the sad order in the midst of it all, not finding 
 there had been such a great talk about himself after 
 his death as he had always expected to hear. 
 
 The next morning, when the house was cleared of 
 them, and none but my shister and myself left in the 
 kitchen with sir Condy, one opens the door, and walks 
 in, and who should it be but Judy M'Quirk herself! 
 I forgot to notice, that she had been married long 
 since, whilst young captain Moneygawl lived at the 
 Lodge, to the captain's huntsman, who after a whilst 
 
 * Shebean house, a hedge-alehouse. Shebean properly means 
 weak small-beer, taplash.
 
 80 CASTLE RACKRKNT. 
 
 listed and left her, and was killed in the wars. Poor 
 Judy fell off greatly in her good looks after her being 
 married a year or two ; and being smoke-dried in 
 the cabin, and neglecting herself like,, it was hard 
 for sir Condy himself to know her again till she 
 spoke ; but when she says, " It's Judy M'Quirk, 
 please your honour, don't you remember her ?" 
 "Oh, Judy, is it you?" says his honour; "yes, 
 sure, I remember you very well ; but you're greatly 
 altered, Judy." " Sure it's time for me," says she ; 
 " and I think your honour, since I seen you last, but 
 that's a great while ago, is altered too." "And with 
 reason, Judy," says sir Condy, fetching a sort of a 
 sigh ; " but how's this, Judy ?" he goes on; " I take 
 it a little amiss of you, that you were not at my wake 
 last night." " Ah, don't be being jealous of that," 
 says she ; " I didn't hear a sentence of your honour's 
 wake till it was all over, or it would have gone hard 
 with me but I would have been at it sure ; but I 
 was forced to go ten miles up the country three days 
 ago to a wedding of a relation of my own's, and 
 didn't get home till after the wake was over ; but," 
 says she, " it won't be so, I hope, the next time,* 
 please your honour." " That we shall see, Judy," 
 says his honour, " and may be sooner than you think 
 for, for I've been very unwell this while past, and 
 
 * At the coronation of one of our monarchs, the king com- 
 plained of the confusion which happened in the procession. 
 The great officer who presided told his majesty, " That it should 
 not be so next time."
 
 CASTLE RACKRENT. 81 
 
 don't reckon any way I'm long for this world." At 
 this, Judy takes up the corner of her apron, and puts 
 it first to one eye and then to t'other, being to all 
 appearance in great trouble ; and my shister put in 
 her word, and bid his honour have a good heart, for 
 she was sure it was only the gout, that sir Patrick 
 \ised to have flying about him, and he ought to 
 drink a glass or a bottle extraordinary to keep it out 
 rf his stomach ; and he promised to take her advice, 
 and sent out for more spirits immediately ; and Judy 
 made a sign to me, and I went over to the door to 
 her, and she said, " I wonder to see sir Condy so 
 low ! has he heard the news?" "What news?" says 
 I. " Didn't ye hear it, then ? " says she ; " my lady 
 Rackrent that was is kilt and lying for dead, and I 
 don't doubt but it's all over with her by this time." 
 " Mercy on us all," says I ; " how was it ? " " The 
 jaunting car it was that ran away with her," says 
 Judy. "I was coming home that same time from 
 Biddy M'Guggin's marriage, and a great crowd of 
 people too upon the road, coining from the fair of 
 Crookaghnawaturgh, and I sees a jaunting car 
 standing in the middle of the road, and with the two 
 wheels off and all tattered. 'What's this?' says I. 
 'Didn't ye hear of it?' says they that were looking 
 on ; ' it's my lady Rackrent's car, that M'as running 
 away from her husband, and the horse took fright 
 at a carrion that lay across the road, and so ran away 
 with the jaunting car, and my lady Rackrent and 
 her maid screaming, and the horse ran with them 
 against a car that was coming from the fair, with the 
 G i
 
 82 CASTLE RACKRENT. 
 
 boy asleep on it, and the lady's petticoat hanging 
 out of the jaunting car caught, and she was dragged 
 I can't tell you how far upon the road, and it all 
 broken up with the stones just going to be pounded, 
 and one of the road-makers, with his sledge-hammer 
 in his hand, stops the horse at the last ; but my lady 
 Rackrent was all kilt* and smashed, and they lifted 
 her into a cabin hard by, and the maid was found 
 after, where she had been thrown, in the gripe of 
 the ditch, her cap and bonnet all full of bog water, 
 and they say my lady can't live any way.' Thady, 
 pray now is it true what I'm told for sartain, that sir 
 Condy has made over all to your son Jason ? " "All," 
 says I. "All entirely?" says she again. "All 
 entirely," says I. " Then," says she, "that's a great 
 shame, but don't be telling Jason what I say." "And 
 what is it you say ? " cries sir Condy, leaning over 
 betwixt us, which made Judy start greatly. "I 
 know the time when Judy M'Quirk would never 
 have stayed so long talking at the door, and I in the 
 house." "Oh !" says Judy, "for shame, sir Condy ; 
 
 * Kilt and smashed. Our author is not here guilty of an 
 anti-climax. The mere English reader, from a similarity of 
 sound between the words kilt and killed, might be induced to 
 suppose that their meanings are similar, yet they are not by any 
 means in Ireland synonymous terms. Thus you may hear a 
 man exclaim, " I'm kilt and murdered !" but he frequently 
 means only that he has received a black eye, or a slight contu- 
 sion Pm kilt all over means that he is in a worse state than 
 
 being simply kilt. Thus, /'/ kilt with the cold is nothing to 
 /'; kilt all over with the rheumatism.
 
 CASTLE KACKRENT. 83 
 
 times are altered since then, and it's my lady Rack- 
 rent you ought to be thinking of." " And why 
 should I be thinking of her, that's not thinking of 
 me now ? " says sir Condy. " No matter for that," 
 says Judy, very properly ; " it's time you should be 
 thinking of her, if ever you mean to do it at all, for 
 don't you know she's lying for death ? " " My lady 
 Rackrent ! " says sir Condy, in a surprise ; " why it's 
 but two days since we parted, as you very well know, 
 Thady, in her full health and spirits, and she and 
 her maid along with her going to Mount Juliet's 
 town on her jaunting car." " She'll never ride no 
 more on her jaunting car," said Judy, " for it has 
 been the death of her, sure enough." " And is she 
 dead, then ? " says his honour. " As good as dead, I 
 hear," says Judy ; " but there's Thady here has just 
 learnt the whole truth of the story as I had it, and 
 it is fitter he or any body else should be telling it 
 you than I, sir Condy : I must be going home to the 
 childer." But he stops her, but rather from civility 
 in him, as I could see very plainly, than any thing 
 else, for Judy was, as his honour remarked at her 
 first coming in, greatly changed, and little likely, as 
 far as I could see though she did not seem to be 
 clear of it herself little likely to be my lady Rack- 
 rent now, should there be a second toss-up to be 
 made. But I told him the whole story out of the 
 face, just as Judy had told it to me, and he sent off 
 messenger with his compliments to Mount Juliet's 
 town that evening, to learn the truth of the report, 
 and Judy bid the boy that was going call in at Tim 
 G 2
 
 84 CASTLE RACKRENT. 
 
 M'Enerney's shop in O'Shaughlin's town and buy 
 her a new shawl. " Do so/' said sir Condy, " and 
 tell Tim to take no money from you, for I must pay 
 him for the shawl myself." At this my shister 
 throws me over a look, and I says nothing, but turned 
 the tobacco in my mouth, whilst Judy began making 
 a many words about it, and saying how she could 
 not be beholden for shawls to any gentleman. I left 
 her there to consult with my shister, did she think 
 there was any thing in it, and my shister thought I 
 was blind to be asking her the question, and I 
 thought my shister must see more into it than I did; 
 and recollecting all past times and every thing, I 
 changed my mind, and came over to her way of 
 thinking, and we settled it that Judy was very 
 like to be my lady Rackrent after all, if a vacancy 
 should have happened. 
 
 The next day, before his honour was up, somebody 
 comes with a double knock at the door, and I was 
 greatly surprised to see it was my son Jason. 
 " Jason, is it you ? " said I ; " what brings you to the 
 Lodge? " says I ; " is it my lady Rackrent? we know 
 that already since yesterday." " May be so,'' says 
 he, " but I must see sir Condy about it." " You 
 can't see him yet," says I ; " sure he is not awake." 
 " What then," says he, " can't he be wakened? and 
 I standing at the door." " I'll not be disturbing his 
 honour for you, Jason," says I ; " many's the hour 
 you've waited in your time, and been proud to do it, 
 till his honour was at leisure to speak to you. His 
 honour," says I, raising my voice, at which his
 
 CASTLE RACKREXT. 85 
 
 honour wakens of his own accord, and calls to me 
 from the room to know who it was I was speaking to. 
 Jason made no more ceremony, but follows me into 
 the room. " How are you, sir Condy?" says he; 
 " I'm happy to see you looking so M r ell ; I came up 
 to know how you did to-day, and to see did you want 
 for any thing at the Lodge." " Nothing at all, Mr. 
 Jason, I thank you," says he ; for his honour had his 
 own share of pride, and did not choose, after all that 
 had passed, to be beholden, I suppose, to my son ; 
 " but pray take a chair and be seated, Mr. Jason." 
 Jason sat him down upon the chest, for chair there 
 was none, and after he had sat there some time, and a 
 silence on all sides, " What news is there stirring in 
 the country, Mr. Jason M'Quirk?" says sir Condy 
 very easy, yet high like. " None that's news to you, 
 sir Condy, I hear," says Jason : " I am sorry to hear 
 of my lady Rackrent's accident." " I'm much obliged 
 to you, and so is her ladyship, I'm sure," answered 
 sir Condy, still stiff; and there was another sort of 
 a silence, which seemed to lie the heaviest on my son 
 Jason. 
 
 " Sir Condy," says he at last, seeing sir Condy 
 disposing himself to go to sleep again, " sir Condy, 
 I dare say you recollect mentioning to me the little 
 memorandum you gave to lady Rackrent about the 
 500/. a-year jointure." " Very true," said sir Condy; 
 " it is all in my recollection." " But if my lady 
 Rackrent dies, there's an end of all jointure," says 
 Jason. " Of course," says sir Condy. " But it's not 
 a matter of certainty that my lady Rackrent won't
 
 OO CASTLE RACKRENT. 
 
 recover," says Jason. " Very true, sir," says my 
 master. " It's a fair speculation, then, for you to 
 consider what the chance of the jointure on those 
 lands, when out of custodiam, will be to you." " Just 
 five hundred a-year, I take it, without any specula- 
 tion at all," said sir Condy. " That's supposing the 
 life dropt, and the custodiam off, you know; begging 
 your pardon, sir Condy, who understands business, 
 that is a wrong calculation." " Very likely so," 
 said sir Condy ; " but, Mr. Jason, if you have any 
 thing to say to me this morning about it, I'd be 
 obliged to you to say it, for I had an indifferent 
 night's rest last night, and wouldn't be sorry to sleep 
 a little this morning." " I have only three words 
 to say, and those more of consequence to you, sir 
 Condy, than me. You are a little cool, I observe ; 
 but I hope you will not be offended at what I have 
 brought here in my pocket," and he pulls out two 
 long rolls, and showers down golden guineas upon the 
 bed. " What's this ? " said sir Condy ; " it's long 
 since " but his pride stops him. " All these are 
 your lawful property this minute, sir Condy, if you 
 please," said Jason. " Not for nothing, I'm sure," 
 said sir Condy, and laughs a little " nothing for 
 nothing, or I'm under a mistake with you, Jason." 
 " Oh, sir Condy, we'll not be indulging ourselves in 
 any unpleasant retrospects," says Jason ; " it's my 
 present intention to behave, as I'm sure you will, 
 like a gentleman in this affair. Here's two hundred 
 guineas, and a third I mean to add, if you should 
 think proper to make over to me all your right and
 
 CASTLE BACKRENT. 87 
 
 title to those lands that you know of." " I'll con- 
 sider of it," said my master ; and a great deal more, 
 that I was tired listening to, was said by Jason, and 
 all that, and the sight of the ready cash upon the 
 bed worked with his honour ; and the short and the 
 long of it was, sir Condy gathered up the golden 
 guineas, and tied them up in a handkerchief, and 
 signed some paper Jason brought with him as usual, 
 and there was an end of the business ; Jason took 
 himself away, and my master turned himself round 
 and fell asleep again. 
 
 I soon found what had put Jason in such a hurry 
 to conclude this business. The little gossoon we had 
 sent off the day before with my master's compliments 
 to Mount Juliet's town, and to know how my lady 
 did after her accident, was stopped early this 
 morning, coming back with his answer through 
 O'Shaughlin's town, at Castle Rackrent, by my son 
 Jason, and questioned of all he knew of my lady 
 from the servant at Mount Juliet's town ; and the 
 gossoon told him my lady Rackrent was not expected 
 to live over night ; so Jason thought it high time to 
 be moving to the Lodge, to make his bargain with 
 my master about the jointure afore it should be too 
 late, and afore the little gossoon should reach us 
 with the news. My master was greatly vexed, that 
 is, I may say, as much as ever I seen him, when he 
 found how he had been taken in ; but it was some 
 comfort to have the ready cash for immediate con- 
 sumption in the house, any way. 
 
 And when Judy came up that evening, and
 
 00 CASTLE RACKRENT 
 
 brought the childer to see his honour, he unties the 
 handkerchief, and, God bless him ! whether it M as 
 little or much he had, 'twas all the same with him, 
 he gives 'em all round guineas a-piece. " Hold up 
 your head," says my shister to Judy, as sir Condy 
 \vas busy filling out a glass of punch for her eldest 
 boy " Hold up your head, Judy; for who knows but 
 we may live to see you yet at the head of the Castle 
 Kackrent estate ? " " May be so," says she, " but 
 not the way you are thinking of." I did not rightly 
 Tinderstand M'hich M r ay Judy was looking when she 
 makes this speech, till a-while after. " Why, 
 Thady, you were telling me yesterday, that sir 
 Condy had sold all entirely to Jason, and \vhere then 
 does all them guineas in the handkerchief come 
 from ? " " They are the purchase-money of my 
 lady's jointure," says I. Judy looks a little bit 
 puzzled at this. " A penny for your thoughts, 
 Judy," says my shister ; " hark, sure sir Condy is 
 drinking her health." He was at the table in the 
 room., * drinking with the exciseman and the ganger, 
 who came up to see his honour, and we were stand- 
 ing over the fire in the kitchen. " I don't much 
 care is he drinking my health or not," says Judy ; 
 " and it is not sir Condy I'm thinking of, M'ith all 
 your jokes, whatever he is of me." " Sure you 
 wouldn't refuse to be my lady Rackrent, Judy, if 
 you had the offer ? " says I. " But if I could do 
 better!" says she. " How better?" says I and my 
 
 * The room the principal room in the house.
 
 CASTLE RACKRENT. 89 
 
 shister both at once. " How better ? " says she ; 
 " why, what signifies it to be my lady Rackrent, arid 
 no castle ? sure what good is the car, and no horse 
 to draw it ? " " And where will ye get the horse, 
 Judy ? " says I. " Never mind that," says she ; 
 " may be it is your own son Jason might find that." 
 " Jason ! " says I ; " don't be trusting to him, Judy. 
 Sir Condy, as I have good reason to know, spoke 
 well of you, when Jason spoke very indifferently of 
 you, Judy." " No matter," says Judy ; " it's often 
 men speak the contrary just to what they think of 
 us." " Arid you the same way of them, no doubt," 
 ansM-ers I. " Nay, don't be denying it, Judy, for I 
 think the better of ye for it, and shouldn't be proud 
 to call ye the daughter of a shister's son of mine, if 
 I was to hear ye talk ungrateful, and any way dis- 
 respectful of his honour." " What disrespect," says 
 she, " to say I'd rather, if it was my luck, be 
 the wife of another man ? " <( You'll have no luck, 
 mind my words, Judy," says I; and all I remem- 
 bered about my poor master's goodness in tossing up 
 for her afore he married at all came across me, and I 
 had a choaking in my throat that hindered me to 
 say more. " Better luck, any how, Thady," says 
 she, " than to be like some folk, following the for- 
 tunes of them that have none left." " Oh ! King 
 of Glory !" says I, " hear the pride and ungratitude 
 of her, and he giving his last guineas but a minute 
 ago to her childer, and she with the fine shawl on her 
 he made her a present of but yesterday ! " " Oh, troth, 
 Judy, you're wrong now," says my shister, looking
 
 90 CASTLE RACKRENT. 
 
 at the shawl. " And was not he wrong yesterday, 
 then/' says she, " to be telling me I was greatly 
 altered, to affront me ? " " But, Judy," says I, 
 " what is it brings you here then at all in the mind 
 you are in ; is it to make Jason think the better of 
 you ? " " I'll tell you no more of my secrets, Thady," 
 says she, " nor would have told you this much, had 
 I taken you for such an unnatural fader as I tind you 
 are, not to wish your own son prefarred to another." 
 " Oh, troth, you are wrong now, Thady," says my 
 shister. Well, I was never so put to it in my life : 
 between these womens, and my son and my master, 
 and all I felt and thought just now, I could not, 
 upon my conscience, tell which was the wrong from 
 the right. So I said not a word more, but was only 
 glad his honour had not the luck to hear all Judy 
 had been saying of him, for I reckoned it would have 
 gone nigh to break his heart; not that I was of 
 opinion he cared for her as much as she and my 
 shister fancied, but the ungratitude of the whole 
 from Judy might not plase him ; and he could never 
 stand the notion of not being well spoken of or be- 
 loved like behind his back. Fortunately for all par- 
 ties concerned, he was so much elevated at this time, 
 there was no danger of his understanding any thing, 
 even if it had reached his ears. There was a great 
 horn at the Lodge, ever since my master and captain 
 Moneygawl was in together, that used to belong 
 originally to the celebrated sir Patrick, his ancestor; 
 and his honour was fond often of telling the story 
 that he learned from me when a child, how sir
 
 CASTLE RACKRENT. 91 
 
 Patrick drank the full of this horn without stopping, 
 and this was what no other man afore or since could 
 without drawing breath. Now sir Condy challenged 
 the gauger, who seemed to think little of the horn, 
 to swallow the contents, and had it filled to the brim 
 with punch ; and the gauger said it was what he 
 could not do for nothing, but he'd hold sir Condy a 
 hundred guineas he'd do it. " Done," says my mas- 
 ter ; " I'll lay you a hundred golden guineas to a 
 tester* you don't." " Done," says the gauger; and 
 done and done's enough between two gentlemen. 
 The gauger was cast, and my master won the bet, 
 and thought he'd won a hundred guineas, but by the 
 wording it was adjudged to be only a tester that 
 was his due by the exciseman. It was all one to 
 him ; he was as well pleased, and I was glad to see 
 him in such spirits again. 
 
 The gauger, bad luck to him ! was the man that 
 next proposed to my master to try himself could he 
 take at a draught the contents of the great horn. 
 " Sir Patrick's horn !" said his honour; " hand it to 
 me : I'll hold you your own bet over again I'll 
 swallow it." " Done," says the gauger; " I'll lay ye 
 any thing at all you do no such thing." " A hundred 
 guineas to sixpence I do," says he : " bring me the 
 handkerchief." I was loth, knowing he meant the 
 handkerchief with the gold in it, to bring it out in 
 
 * Tester sixpence ; from the French word t6te, a head : a 
 piece of silver stamped with a head, which in old French was 
 called " un testion," and which was about the value of an old 
 English sixpence. Tester is used in Shakspeare.
 
 CASTLE RACKRENT. 
 
 sucli company, and his honour not very able to 
 reckon it. " Bring me the handkerchief, then, 
 Thady," says he, and stamps with his foot ; so with 
 that I pulls it out of my great coat pocket, where I 
 had put it for safety. Oh, how it grieved me to see 
 the guineas counting upon the table, and they the 
 last my master had ! Says sir Condy to me, " Your 
 hand is steadier than mine to-night, old Thady, and 
 that's a wonder ; fill you the horn for me." And so, 
 wishing his honour success, I did ; but I filled it, 
 little thinking of what would befall him. He swal- 
 lows it down, and drops like one shot. We lifts him 
 up, and he was speechless, and quite black in the 
 face. We put him to bed, and in a short time he 
 wakened, raving with a fever on his brain. He was 
 shocking either to see or hear. " Judy! Judy! have 
 you no touch of feeling ? won't you stay to help us 
 nurse him ?" says I to her, and she putting on her 
 shawl to go out of the house. " I'm frightened to 
 see him," says she, " and wouldn't nor couldn't stay 
 in it ; and what use? he can't last till the morning." 
 With that she ran off. There was none but my 
 shister and myself left near him of all the many 
 friends he had. The fever came and went, and 
 came and went, and lasted five days, and the sixth 
 he was sensible for a few minutes, and said to me, 
 knowing me very well, " I'm in burning pain all 
 withinside of me, Thady." I could not speak, but 
 my shister asked him would he have this thing or 
 t'other to do him good ? " No," says he, " no- 
 thing will do me good no more," and he gave a 
 terrible screech with the torture he was in then
 
 CASTLE HACKRENT. 93 
 
 again a minute's ease " brought to this by drink/' 
 says he ; " where are all the friends ? where's 
 Judy ? Gone, hey ? Ay, sir Condy has been a fool 
 all his days/' said he ; and there M'as the last word 
 he spoke, and died. He had but a very poor funeral, 
 after all. 
 
 If you want to know any more, I'm not very well 
 able to tell you ; but my lady Rackrent did not die, 
 as was expected of her, but M'as only disfigured in 
 the face ever after by the fall and bruises she got ; 
 and she and Jason, immediately after my poor mas- 
 ter's death, set about going to law about that join- 
 ture ; the memorandum not being on stamped paper, 
 some say it is worth nothing, others again it may do ; 
 others say, Jason won't have the lands at any rate; 
 Many wishes it so : for my part, I'm tired wishing 
 for any thing in this world, after all I've seen in it 
 but I'll say nothing; it would be a folly to be getting 
 myself ill-will in my old age. Jason did not marry, 
 nor think of marrying Judy, as I prophesied, and I 
 am not sorry for it ; who is ? As for all I have here 
 set down from memory and hearsay of the family, 
 there's nothing but truth in it from beginning to 
 end : that you may depend upon ; for where's the use 
 of telling lies about the things which every body 
 knows as well as I do ? 
 
 The Editor could have readily made the catas- 
 trophe of sir Condy's history more dramatic and 
 more pathetic, if he thought it allowable to varnish
 
 94 CASTLE RACKRENT. 
 
 the plain round tale of faithful Thady. He lays it 
 before the English reader as a specimen of manners 
 and characters, which are, perhaps, unknown in 
 England. Indeed, the domestic habits of no nation 
 in Europe were less known to the English than 
 those of their sister country, till within these few 
 years. 
 
 Mr. Young's picture of Ireland, in his tour 
 through that country, was the first faithful portrait 
 of its inhabitants. All the features in the foregoing 
 sketch were taken from the life, and they are cha- 
 racteristic of that mixture of quickness, simplicity, 
 cunning, carelessness, dissipation, disinterestedness, 
 shrewdness, and blunder, which, in different forms, 
 and with various success, has been brought upon the 
 stage, or delineated in novels. 
 
 It is a problem of difficult solution to determine, 
 whether an Union will hasten or retard the meliora- 
 tion of this country. The few gentlemen of educa- 
 tion, who now reside in this country, will resort to 
 England : they are few, but they are in nothing 
 inferior to men of the same rank in Great Britain. 
 The best that can happen will be the introduction of 
 British manufacturers in their places. 
 
 Did the Warwickshire militia, who were chiefly 
 artisans, teach the Irish to drink beer ? or did they 
 learn from the Irish to drink whiskey ? 
 
 1800.
 
 GLOSSARY. 
 
 Some friends, who have seen Thady's history since it 
 has been printed, have suggested to the Editor, 
 that many of the terms and idiomatic phrases, with 
 which it abounds, could not be intelligible to the 
 English reader ivilhout further explanation. The 
 Editor has therefore furnished the following Glos- 
 sary. 
 
 Page 1. Monday morning. Thady begins his 
 memoirs of the Rackrent Family by dating Monday 
 morning, because no great undertaking can be auspi- 
 ciously commenced in Ireland on any morning but 
 Monday morning. " O, please God we live till 
 Monday morning, we'll set the slater to mend the 
 roof of the house. On Monday morning we'll fall to, 
 and cut the turf. On Monday morning we'll see and 
 begin mowing. On Monday morning, please your 
 honour, we'll begin and dig the potatoes," &c. 
 
 All the intermediate days, between the making 
 of such speeches and the ensuing Monday, are 
 wasted : and when Monday morning comes, it is ten 
 to one that the business is deferred to the next 
 Monday morning. The Editor knew a gentleman,
 
 96 GLOSSARY. 
 
 who, to counteract this prejudice, made his workmen 
 and labourers begin all new pieces of work upon a 
 Saturday. 
 
 Page 3. Let alone the three kingdoms itself. 
 Lei alone, in this sentence, means put out of consi- 
 deration. The phrase, let alone, which is now used 
 as the imperative of a verb, may in time become a 
 conjunction, and may exercise the ingenuity of some 
 future etymologist. The celebrated Home Tooke 
 has proved most satisfactorily, that the conjunction 
 but comes from the imperative of the Anglo-Saxon 
 very (beoulan} to be out ; also, that z/'comes from gift, 
 the imperative of the Anglo-Saxon verb which signi- 
 fies to give, &c. 
 
 Page 5. Whillaluh.' Ullaloo, Gol, or lamentation 
 over the dead 
 
 " Magnoque ululante tumultu." VIRGIL. 
 
 *' Ululatibus omne 
 Implevere nemus." OVID. 
 
 A full account of the Irish Go], or Ullaloo, and of 
 the Caoinan or Irish funeral song, with its first semi- 
 chorus, second semichorus, full chorus of sighs and 
 groans, together with the Irish words and music, may 
 be found in the fourth volume of the transactions of 
 the Royal Irish Academy. For the advantage of lazy 
 readers, who would rather read a page than walk a 
 yard, and from compassion, not to say sympathy, with 
 their infirmity, the Editor transcribes the following 
 passages :
 
 GLOSSARY. 97 
 
 " The Irish have been always remarkable for their 
 funeral lamentations, and this peculiarity has been 
 noticed by almost every traveller who visited them ; 
 and it seems derived from their Celtic ancestors, the 
 primaeval inhabitants of this isle. 
 
 " It has been affirmed of the Irish, that to cry was 
 more natural to them than to any other nation, and 
 at length the Irish cry became proverbial. * 
 
 " Cambrensis in the twelfth century says, the Irish 
 then musically expressed their griefs ; that is, they 
 applied the musical art, in which they excelled all 
 others, to the orderly celebration of funeral obsequies, 
 by dividing the mourners into two bodies, each alter- 
 nately singing their part, and the whole at times 
 joining in full chorus. * * * * The body of 
 the deceased, dressed in grave clothes, and orna- 
 mented with flowers, was placed on a bier, or some 
 elevated spot. The relations and keepers (singing 
 mourners) ranged themselves in two divisions, one at 
 the head, and the other at the feet of the corpse. 
 The bards and croteries had before prepared the 
 funeral Caoinan. The chief bard of the head chorus 
 began by singing the first stanza in a low, doleful 
 tone, which was softly accompanied by the harp : at 
 the conclusion, the foot semichorus began the la- 
 mentation, or Ullaloo, from the final note of the 
 preceding stanza, in which they were answered by 
 the head semichorus; then both united in one general 
 chorus. The chorus of the first stanza being ended, 
 the chief bard of the foot semichorus began the 
 second Gol or lamentation, in which he was answered
 
 GLOSSARY. 
 
 by that of the head ; and then, as before, both united 
 in the general full chorus. Thus alternately were 
 the song and choruses performed during the night. 
 The genealogy, rank, possessions, the virtues and 
 vices of the dead were rehearsed, and a number of 
 interrogations were addressed to the deceased ; as, 
 Why did he die ? If married, whether his wife was 
 faithful to him, his sons dutiful, or good hunters or 
 warriors ? If a woman, whether her daughters were 
 fair or chaste ? If a young man, whether he had 
 been crossed in love ; or if the blue-eyed maids of 
 Erin treated him with scorn ? " 
 
 We are told, that formerly the feet (the metrical 
 feet) of the Caoinan were much attended to ; but on 
 the decline of the Irish bards these feet were gra- 
 dually neglected, and the Caoinan fell into a sort of 
 slipshod metre amongst women. Each province had 
 different Caoinans, or at least different imitations of 
 the original. There was the Munster cry, the Ulster 
 cry, &c. It became an extempore performance, and 
 every set of keepers varied the melody according to 
 their own fancy. 
 
 It is curious to observe how customs and ceremonies 
 degenerate. The present Irish cry, or howl, cannot 
 boast of such melody, nor is the funeral procession 
 conducted with much dignity. The crowd of people 
 who assemble at these funerals sometimes amounts 
 to a thousand, often to four or five hundred. They 
 gather as the bearers of the hearse proceed on their 
 way, and when they pass through any village, or 
 when they come near any houses, they begin to cry
 
 GLOSSARY. 99 
 
 Oh ! Oh ! Oh ! Oh ! Oh ! Agh ! Agh ! raising their 
 notes from the first Oh ! to the last Agh ! in a kind 
 of mournful howl. This gives notice to the inhabit- 
 ants of the village that a funeral is passing, and 
 immediately they flock out to follow it. In the 
 province of Munster it is a common thing for the 
 women to follow a funeral, to join in the universal 
 cry with all their might and main for some time, and 
 then to turn and ask " Arrah ! who is it that's dead ? 
 who is it we're crying for ?" Even the poorest 
 people have their own burying-places, that is, spots 
 of ground in the church-yards, where they say that 
 their ancestors have been buried ever since the wars 
 of Ireland ; and if these burial-places are ten miles 
 from the place where a man dies, his friends and 
 neighbours take care to carry his corpse thither. 
 Always one priest, often five or six priests, attend 
 these funerals ; each priest repeats a mass, for 
 which he is paid, sometimes a shilling, sometimes 
 half-a-crown, sometimes half-a-guinea, or a guinea, 
 according to their circumstances, or, as they say, 
 according to the ability of the deceased. After the 
 burial of any very poor man, who has left a widow 
 or children, the priest makes what is called a collection 
 for the widow; he goes round to every person present, 
 and each contributes sixpence or a shilling, or what 
 they please. The reader will find in the note upon 
 the word Wake, p. 117, more particulars respecting 
 the conclusion of the Irish funerals. 
 
 Certain old women, who cry particularly loud and 
 well, are in great request, and, as a man said to the 
 H 2
 
 100 GLOSSARY. 
 
 Editor, " Every one would wish and be proud to 
 have such at his funeral, or at that of his friends." 
 The lower Irish are wonderfully eager to attend the 
 funerals of their friends and relations, and they make 
 their relationships branch out to a great extent. The 
 proof that a poor man has been well beloved during 
 his life is his having a crowded funeral. To attend 
 a neighbour's funeral is a cheap proof of humanity, 
 but it does not, as some imagine, cost nothing. The 
 time spent in attending funerals may be safely valued 
 at half a million to the Irish nation ; the Editor 
 thinks that double that sum would not be too high an 
 estimate. The habits of profligacy and drunkenness, 
 which are acquired at wakes, are here put out of the 
 question. When a labourer, a carpenter, or a smith, 
 is not at his work, which frequently happens, ask 
 where he is gone, and ten to one the answer is 
 " Oh faith, please your honour, he couldn't do a stroke 
 to-day, for he's gone to the funeral." 
 
 Even beggars, when they grow old, go about 
 beggingjfrr their own funerals ; that is, begging for 
 money to buy a coffin, candles, pipes, and tobacco. 
 For the use of the candles, pipes, and tobacco, see 
 Wake. 
 
 Those who value customs in proportion to their 
 antiquity, and nations in proportion to their ad- 
 herence to ancient customs, will, doubtless, admire 
 the Irish Ullaloo, and the Irish nation, for per- 
 severing in this usage from time immemorial. The 
 Editor, however, has observed some alarming symp- 
 toms, which seem to prognosticate the declining taste
 
 GLOSSARY. 101 
 
 for the Ullaloo in Ireland. In a comic theatrical 
 entertainment, represented not long since on the 
 Dublin stage, a chorus of old women was introduced, 
 who set up the Irish howl round the relics of a 
 physician, who is supposed to have fallen under the 
 wooden sword of Harlequin. After the old women 
 have continued their Ullaloo for a decent time, with 
 all the necessary accompaniments of wringing their 
 hands, wiping or rubbing their eyes with the corners 
 of their gowns or aprons, &c. one of the mourners 
 suddenly suspends her lamentable cries, and, turning 
 to her neighbour, asks, " Arrah now, honey, who is 
 it we're crying for ? " 
 
 Page 6. The tenants were sent away without their 
 whiskey. It is usual with some landlords to give their 
 inferior tenants a glass of whiskey when they pay their 
 rents. Thady calls it their whiskey; not that the 
 whiskey is actually the property of the tenants, but 
 that it becomes their right after it has been often given 
 to them. In this general mode of reasoning respecting 
 rights the lower Irish are not singular, but they are 
 peculiarly quick and tenacious in claiming these 
 rights. " Last year your honour gave me some straw 
 for the roof of my house, and I expect your honour 
 will be after doing the same this year." In this 
 manner gifts are frequently turned into tributes. 
 The high and low are not always dissimilar in their 
 habits. It is said, that the Sublime Ottoman Porte 
 is very apt to claim gifts as tributes : thus it is dan- 
 gerous to send the Grand Seignor a fine horse on
 
 102 GLOSSARY. 
 
 his birthday one year, lest on his next birthday he 
 should expect a similar present, and should proceed 
 to demonsti'ate the reasonableness of his expectations. 
 
 Page 7- He demeaned himself greatly means, 
 he lowered or disgraced himself much. 
 
 Page 7- Duty fowls, and duty turkies, and duly 
 geese. In many leases in Ireland, tenants were 
 formerly bound to supply an inordinate quantity of 
 poultry to their landlords. The Editor knew of 
 thirty turkies being reserved in one lease of a small 
 farm. 
 
 Page 9. English tenants. An English tenant 
 does not mean a tenant who is an Englishman, but 
 a tenant who pays his rent the day that it is due. 
 It is a common prejudice in Ireland, amongst the 
 poorer classes of people, to believe that all tenants in 
 England pay their rents on the very day when they 
 become due. An Irishman, when he goes to take a 
 farm, if he wants to prove to his landlord that he is 
 a substantial man, offers to become an English tenant. 
 If a tenant disobliges his landlord by voting against 
 him, or against his opinion, at an election, the tenant 
 is immediately informed by the agent, that he must 
 become an English tenant. This threat does not 
 imply that he is to change his language or his coun- 
 try, but that he must pay all the arrear of rent which 
 he owes, and that he must thenceforward pay his 
 rent on that day when it becomes due.
 
 GLOSSARY. 103 
 
 Page 9. Canting does not mean talking or 
 writing hypocritical nonsense, but selling substan- 
 tially by auction. 
 
 Page 9. Duty work. It was formerly common 
 in Ireland to insert clauses in leases, binding tenants 
 to furnish their landlords with labourers and horses 
 for several days in the year. Much petty tyranny 
 and oppression have resulted from this feudal custom. 
 Whenever a poor man disobliged his landlord, the 
 agent sent to him for his duty work, and Thady does 
 not exaggerate when he says, that the tenants were 
 often called from their own work to do that of their 
 landlord. Thus the very means of earning their rent 
 were taken from them : whilst they were getting 
 home their landlord's harvest> their own was often 
 ruined, and yet their rents were expected to be paid 
 as punctually as if their time had been at their own 
 disposal. This appears the height of absurd injustice. 
 
 In Esthonia, amongst the poor Sclavonian race of 
 peasant slaves, they pay tributes to their lords, not 
 under the name of duty work, duty geese, duty 
 turkies, &c., but under the name of righteousnesses. 
 The following ballad is a curious specimen of Estho- 
 nian poetry : 
 
 " This is the cause that the country is ruined, 
 
 And the straw of the thatch is eaten away, 
 
 The gentry are come to live in the land 
 
 Chimneys between the village, 
 
 And the proprietor upon the white floor ! 
 
 The sheep brings forth a lamb with a white forehead,
 
 104 GLOSSARY. 
 
 This is paid to the lord for a righteousness sheep. 
 
 The sow farrows pigs, 
 
 They go to the spit of the lord. 
 
 The hen lays eggs, 
 
 They go into the lord's frying-pan. 
 
 The cow drops a male calf, 
 
 That goes into the lord's herd as a bull. 
 
 The mare foals a horse foal, 
 
 That must be for my lord's nag. 
 
 The boor's wife has sons, 
 
 They must go to look after my lord's poultry." 
 
 Page 10. Out of forty-nine suits which he had, 
 he never lost one but seventeen. Thady's language 
 in this instance is a specimen of a mode of rhetoric 
 common in Ireland. An astonishing assertion is 
 made in the beginning of a sentence, which ceases to 
 be in the least surprising, when you hear the quali- 
 fying explanation that follows. Thus a man who 
 is in the last stage of staggering drunkenness will, 
 if he can articulate, swear to you " Upon his con- 
 science now, and may he never stir from the spot 
 alive if he is telling a lie, upon his conscience he has 
 not tasted a drop of any thing, good or bad, since 
 morning at-all-at-all, but half a pint of whiskey, 
 please your honour." 
 
 Page 11. Fairy Mounts Barrows. It is said 
 that these high mounts were of great service to the 
 natives of Ireland when Ireland was invaded by the 
 Danes. Watch was always kept on them, and upon 
 the approach of an enemy a fire was lighted to give 
 notice to the next watch, and thus the intelligence 
 was quickly communicated through the country.
 
 GLOSSARY. 105 
 
 Somi, years ago, the common people believed that 
 these barrows were inhabited by fairies, or, as they 
 called them, by the good people. " O troth, to the 
 best of my belief, and to the best of my judgment 
 and opinion," said an elderly man to the Editor, " it 
 was only the old people that had nothing to do, and 
 got together, and were telling stories about them 
 fairies, but to the best of my judgment there's 
 nothing in it. Only this I heard myself not very 
 many years back from a decent kind of a man, a 
 grazier, that as he was coming just fair and easy 
 (quietly) from the fair, with some cattle and sheep, 
 
 that he had not sold, just at the church of , at 
 
 an angle of the road like, he was met by a good- 
 looking man, who asked him where he was going ? 
 And he answered, ' Oh, far enough, I must be going 
 all night.' ' No, that you mustn't nor won't (says 
 the man), you'll sleep with me the night, and you'll 
 want for nothing, nor your cattle nor sheep neither, 
 nor your beast (horse) ; so come along with me.' 
 With that the grazier lit (alighted) from his horse, 
 and it was dark night ; but presently he finds him- 
 self, he does not know in the wide world how, in a 
 fine house, and plenty of every thing to eat and 
 drink ; nothing at all wanting that he could wish 
 for or think of. And he does not mind (recollect or 
 know) how at last he falls asleep ; and in the morn- 
 ing he finds himself lying, not in ever a bed or a 
 house at all, but just in the angle of the road where 
 first he met the strange man: there he finds him- 
 self lying on his back on the grass, and all his sheep
 
 106 GLOSSARY. 
 
 feeding as quiet as ever all round about him, and his 
 horse the same way, and the bridle of the beast over 
 his wrist. And I asked him what he thought of it ; 
 and from first to last he could think of nothing, but 
 for certain sure it must have been the fairies that 
 entertained him so well. For there was no house to 
 see any where nigh hand, or any building, or barn, 
 or place at all, but only the church and the mote 
 (barroiv}. There's another odd thing enough that 
 they tell about this same church, that if any per- 
 son's corpse, that had not a right to be buried in 
 that church-yard, went to be burying there in it, no, 
 not all the men, women, or childer in all Ireland 
 could get the corpse any way into the church-yard ; 
 but as they would be trying to go into the church- 
 yard, their feet would seem to be going backwards 
 instead of forwards ; ay, continually backwards the 
 whole funeral would seem to go ; and they would 
 never set foot with the corpse in the church- yard. 
 Now they say that it is the fairies do all this ; but it 
 is my opinion it is all idle talk, and people are after 
 being wiser now." 
 
 The country people in Ireland certainly had great 
 admiration mixed with reverence, if not dread, of 
 fairies. They believed that beneath these fairy 
 mounts were spacious subterraneous palaces, inha- 
 bited by the good people, who must not on any account 
 be disturbed. When the wind raises a little eddy of 
 dust upon the road, the poor people believe that it 
 is raised by the fairies, that it is a sign that they 
 are journeying from one of the fairies' mounts to
 
 GLOSSARY. 107 
 
 another, and they say to. the fairies, or to the dust 
 as it passes, " God speed ye, gentlemen ; God speed 
 ye." This averts any evil that the good people might 
 be inclined to do them. There are innumerable 
 stories told of the friendly and unfriendly feats of 
 these busy fairies ; some of these tales are ludicrous, 
 and some romantic enough for poetry. It is a pity 
 that poets should lose such convenient, though dimi- 
 nutive machinery. By-the-bye, Parnel, who showed 
 himself so deeply "skilled in faerie lore," was an 
 Irishman ; and though he has presented his faeries 
 to the world in the ancient English dress , of 
 " Britain's isle, and Arthur's days," it is probable 
 that his first acquaintance with them began in his 
 native country. 
 
 Some remote origin for the most superstitious or 
 romantic popular illusions or vulgar errors may often 
 be discovered. In Ireland, the old churches and 
 church-yards have been usually fixed upon as the 
 scenes of wonders. Now the antiquarians tell us, that 
 near the ancient churches in that kingdom caves of 
 various constructions have from time to time been 
 discovered, which were formerly used as granaries or 
 magazines by the ancient inhabitants, and as places to 
 which they retreated in time of danger. There is 
 (p. 84 of the R. I. A. Transactions for 1789) a parti- 
 cular account of a number of these artificial caves at 
 the west end of the church of Killossy, in the county 
 of Kildare. Under a rising ground, in a dry sandy 
 soil, these subterraneous dwellings were found : they 
 have pediment roofs, and they communicate with
 
 108 GLOSSARY. 
 
 each other by small apertures. In the Brehon laws 
 these are mentioned, and there are fines inflicted by 
 those laws upon persons who steal from the subter- 
 raneous granaries. All these things show that there 
 was a real foundation for the stories which were told 
 of the appearance of lights, and of the sounds of voices 
 near these places. The persons who had property 
 concealed there very willingly countenanced every 
 wonderful relation that tended to make these places 
 objects of sacred awe or superstitious terror. 
 
 Page 12. Weed-ashes. By ancient usage in 
 Ireland, all the weeds on a farm belonged to the 
 farmer's wife, or to the wife of the squire who holds 
 the ground in his own hands. The great demand 
 for alkaline salts in bleaching rendered these ashes 
 no inconsiderable perquisite. 
 
 Page 12. Sealing money. Formerly it was the 
 custom in Ireland for tenants to give the squire's lady 
 from two to fifty guineas as a perquisite upon the 
 sealing of their leases. The Editor not very long 
 since knew of a baronet's lady accepting fifty guineas 
 as sealing money, upon closing a bargain for a consi- 
 derable farm. 
 
 Page 12. Sir Murtaghgrerv mad. Sir Murtagh 
 grew angry. 
 
 Page 12. The whole kitchen rvas out on the stairs 
 means that all the inhabitants of the kitchen came
 
 GLOSSARY. 109 
 
 out of the kitchen, and stood upon the stairs. These, 
 and similar expressions, show how much the Irish are 
 disposed to metaphor and amplification. 
 
 Page 16. Fining down the yearly rent. When 
 an Irish gentleman, like sir Kit Rackrent, has lived 
 beyond his income, and finds himself distressed for 
 ready money, tenants obligingly offer to take his land 
 at a rent far below the value, and to pay him a small 
 sum of money in hand, which they call fining down 
 the yearly rent. The temptation of this ready cash 
 often blinds the landlord to his future interest. 
 
 Page 16. Driver. A man who is employed to 
 drive tenants for rent ; that is, to drive the cattle 
 belonging to tenants to pound. The office of driver 
 is by no means a sinecure. 
 
 Page 16. / thought to make him a priest. It was 
 customary amongst those of Thady's rank in Ireland, 
 whenever they could get a little money, to send their 
 sons abroad to St. Omer's, or to Spain, to be educated 
 as priests. Now they are educated at Maynooth. 
 The Editor has lately known a young lad, who began 
 by being a post-boy, afterwards turn into a carpenter, 
 then quit his plane and work-bench to study his Hu- 
 manities, as he said, at the college of Maynooth ; but 
 after he had gone through his course of Humanities, 
 he determined to be a soldier instead of a priest. 
 
 Page 19. Flam. Short for flambeau.
 
 110 GLOSSARY. 
 
 Page 21. Barrack-room. Formerly it was cus- 
 tomary, in gentlemen's houses in Ireland, to fit up 
 one large bedchamber with a number of beds for the 
 reception of occasional visitors. These rooms were 
 called Barrack-rooms. 
 
 Page 21. An innocent in Ireland, means a sim- 
 pleton, and idiot. 
 
 Page 30. The Curragh is the Newmarket of 
 Ireland. 
 
 Page 30. The cant. The auction. 
 
 Page 35. And so should cut him off for ever, by 
 levying a Jine, and stijfering a recovery to dock the 
 entail. The English reader may perhaps be surprised 
 at the extent of Thady's legal knowledge, and at the 
 fluency with which he pours forth law-terms; but 
 almost every poor man in Ireland, be he farmer, 
 weaver, shopkeeper, or steward, is, beside his other 
 occupations, occasionally a lawyer. The nature of pro- 
 cesses, ejectments, custodiams, injunctions, replevins, 
 &c. is perfectly known to them, and the terms as fa- 
 miliar to them as to any attorney. They all love law. 
 It is a kind of lottery, in which every man, staking his 
 own wit or cunning against his neighbour's property, 
 feels that he has little to lose, and much to gain. 
 
 "I'll have the law of you, so I will! "is the saying of 
 an Englishman who expects justice. " I'll have you 
 before his honour " is the threat of an Irishman who
 
 GLOSSARY. Ill 
 
 hopes for partiality. Miserable is the life of a justice 
 of the peace in Ireland the day after a fair, especially 
 if he resides near a small town. The multitude of 
 the kilt (kilt does not mean kitted, but hurt) and 
 wounded who come before his honour with black eyes 
 or bloody heads is astonishing : but more astonishing 
 is the number of those who, though they are scarcely 
 able by daily labour to procure daily food, will never- 
 theless, without the least reluctance, waste six or 
 seven hours of the day lounging in the yard or hall 
 of a justice of the peace, waiting to make some com- 
 plaint about nothing. It is impossible to convince 
 them that time is money. They do not set any value 
 upon their own time, and they think that others 
 estimate theirs at less than nothing. Hence they 
 make no scruple of telling a justice of the peace a 
 story of an hour long about a tester (sixpence) ; and 
 if he grows impatient, they attribute it to some secret 
 prejudice which he entertains against them. 
 
 Their method is to get a story completely by heart, 
 and to tell it, as they call it, out of the face, that is, 
 from the beginning to the end, without interruption. 
 
 " Well, my good friend, I have seen you lounging 
 about these three hours in the yard ; what is your 
 business ? " 
 
 " Please your honour, it is what I want to speak 
 one word to your honour." 
 
 "Speak then, but be quick What is the matter ? " 
 
 "The matter, please your honour, is nothing at- 
 all-at-all, only just about the grazing of a horse, 
 please your honour, that this man here sold me at
 
 1 ] 2 GLOSSARY. 
 
 the fair of Gurtishannon last Shrove fair, which lay 
 down three times with myself, please your honour, 
 and kilt me; not to be telling your honour of how, no 
 later back than yesterday night, he lay down in the 
 house there within, and all the childer standing 
 round, and it was God's mercy he did not fall a- top of 
 them, or into the fire to burn himself. So, please 
 your honour, to-day I took him back to this man, 
 which owned him, and after a great deal to do I got 
 the mare again I swopped (exchanged) him for; but 
 he won't pay the grazing of the horse for the time I 
 had him, though he promised to pay the grazing in 
 case the horse din't answer ; and he never did a day's 
 work, good or bad, please your honour, all the time 
 he was with me, and I had the doctor to him five 
 times any how. And so, please your honour, it is 
 what I expect your honour will stand my friend, for 
 I'd sooner come to your honour for justice than to 
 any other in all Ireland. And so I brought him here 
 before your honour, and expect your honour will 
 make him pay me the grazing, or tell me, can I 
 process him for it at the next assizes, please your 
 honour ? " 
 
 The defendant now turning a quid of tobacco with 
 his tongue into some secret cavern in his mouth, 
 begins his defence with 
 
 " Please your honour, under favour, and saving 
 your honour's presence, there's not a word of truth 
 in all this man has been saying from beginning to 
 end, upon my conscience, and I wouldn't, for the 
 value of the horse itself, grazing and all, be after
 
 GLOSSARY 113 
 
 telling your honour a lie. For, please your honour, 
 I have a dependance upon your honour that you'll do 
 me justice, and not be listening to him or the like 
 of him. Please your honour, it's what he has brought 
 me before your honour, because he had a spite against 
 me about some oats I sold your honour, which he was 
 jealous of, and a shawl his wife got at my shister's 
 shop there without, and never paid for ; so I offered 
 to set the shawl against the grazing, and give him a 
 receipt in full of all demands, but he wouldn't out of 
 spite, please your honour ; so he brought me before 
 your honour, expecting your honour was mad with 
 me for cutting down the tree in the horse park, 
 which was none of my doing, please your honour ill 
 luck to them that went and belied me to your honour 
 behind my back ! So if your honour is pleasing, I'll 
 tell you the whole truth about the horse that he 
 swopped against my mare out of the face. Last 
 Shrove fair I met this man, Jemmy Duffy, please 
 your 'honour, just at the corner of the road, where 
 the bridge is broken down, that your honour is to 
 have the presentment for this year long life to you 
 for it ! And he was at that time coming from the 
 fair of Gurtishannon, and I the same way. ' How 
 are you, Jemmy?' says I. ' Very well, I thank ye, 
 kindly, Bryan,' says he ; ' shall we turn back to 
 Paddy Salmon's and take a naggin of whiskey to our 
 better acquaintance ? ' ' I don't care if I did, Jemmy/ 
 says I ; ' only it is what I can't take the whiskey, 
 because I'm under an oath against it for a month/ 
 Ever since, please your honour, the day your honour
 
 114 GLOSSARY. 
 
 met me on the road, and observed to me I could 
 hardly stand, I had taken so much ; though upon my 
 conscience your honour wronged me greatly that same 
 time ill luck to them that belied me behind my back 
 to your honour ! Well, please your honour, as I was 
 telling you, as he was taking the whiskey, and we 
 talking of one thing or t'other, he makes me an offer 
 to swop his mare that he couldn't sell at the fair of 
 Gurtishannon, because nobody would be troubled 
 with the beast, please your honour, against my horse, 
 and to oblige him I took the mare sorrow take her ! 
 and him along with her ! She kicked me a new car, 
 that was worth three pounds ten, to tatters the first 
 time I ever put her into it, and I expect your honour 
 will make him pay me the price of the car, any how, 
 before I pay the grazing, which I've no right to pay 
 at-all-at-all, only to oblige him. But I leave it all 
 to your honour ; and the whole grazing he ought to 
 be charging for the beast is but two and eightpence 
 halfpenny, any how, please your honour. So I'll 
 abide by what your honour says, good or bad. I'll 
 leave it all to your honour." 
 
 I'll leave it all to your honour literally means, I'll 
 leare all the trouble to your honour. 
 
 The Editor knew a justice of the peace in Ireland, 
 who had such a dread of having it all left to his 
 honour, that he frequently gave the complainants the 
 sum about which they were disputing, to make peace 
 between them, and to get rid of the trouble of hearing 
 their stories out of the face. But he was soon cured 
 of this method of buying off disputes, by the increas-
 
 GLOSSARY. ] ] 5 
 
 ing multitude of those who, out of pure regard to his 
 honour, came " to get justice from him, because they 
 would sooner come before him than before any man 
 in all Ireland." 
 
 Page 50. A raking pot of tea. We should observe, 
 this custom has long since been banished from the 
 higher orders of Irish gentry. The mysteries of a 
 raking pot of tea, like those of the Bona Dea, are 
 supposed to be sacred to females ; but now and then 
 it has happened, that some of the male species, who 
 were either more audacious or more highly favoured 
 than the rest of their sex, have been admitted by 
 stealth to these orgies. The time when the festive 
 ceremony begins varies according to circumstances, 
 but it is never earlier than twelve o'clock at night ; 
 the joys of a raking pot of tea depending on its being 
 made in secret, and at an unseasonable hour. After 
 a ball, when the more discreet part of the company 
 has departed to rest, a few chosen female spirits, who 
 have footed it till they can foot it no longer, and till 
 the sleepy notes expire under the slurring hand of 
 the musician, retire to abedchamber, call the favourite 
 maid, who alone is admitted, bid her put down the 
 kettle, lock the door, and amidst as much giggling 
 and scrambling as possible, they get round a tea-table, 
 on which all manner of things are huddled together. 
 Then begin mutual railleries and mutual confidences 
 amongst the young ladies, and the faint scream and 
 the loud laugh is heard, and the romping for letters 
 and pocket-books begins, and gentlemen are called 
 i 2
 
 116 GLOSSARY. 
 
 by their surnames, or by the general name of fellows ! 
 pleasant fellows ! charming fellows ! odious fellows ! 
 abominable fellows ! and then all prudish decorums 
 are forgotten, and then we might be convinced how 
 much the satirical poet was mistaken when he said, 
 
 " There is no woman where there's no reserve." 
 
 The merit of the original idea of a raking pot of 
 tea evidently belongs to the "washerwoman and the 
 laundry-maid. But why should not we have Low 
 life above stairs as well as High life belorv stairs ? 
 
 Page 52. We gained the day by this piece of' 
 honesty. In a dispute which occurred some years ago 
 in Ireland, between Mr. E. and Mr. A!., about the 
 boundaries of a farm, an old tenant of Mr. M.'s cut 
 a sod from Mr. M.'s land, and inserted it in a spot 
 prepared for its reception in Mr. E.'s land ; so nicely 
 was it inserted, that no eye could detect the junction 
 of the grass. The old man, who was to give his 
 evidence as to the property, stood upon the inserted 
 sod when the viewers came, and swore that the ground 
 he then stood upon belonged to his landlord, Mr. M. 
 
 The Editor had flattered himself that the inge- 
 nious contrivance which Thady records, and the 
 similar subterfuge of this old Irishman, in the dis- 
 pute concerning boundaries, were instances of 'cute- 
 ness unparalleled in all but Irish story : an English 
 friend, however, has just mortified the Editor's na- 
 tional vanity by an account of the following custom, 
 which prevails in part of Shropshire. It is discre-
 
 GLOSSARY. 117 
 
 ditable for women to appear abroad after the birth of 
 their children till they have been churched. To 
 avoid this reproach, and at the same time to enjoy 
 the pleasure of gadding, whenever a M r oman goes 
 abroad before she has been to church, she takes a tile 
 from the roof of her house, and puts it upon her 
 head: wearing this panoply all the time she pays her 
 visits, her conscience is perfectly at ease ; for she can 
 afterwards safely declare to the clergyman, that she 
 " has never been from under her own roof till she 
 came to be churched." 
 
 Page 55. Carton, or half carton. Thady means 
 cartron, or half cartron. " According to the old 
 record in the black book of Dublin, a cantred is said 
 to contain 30 villatas terras, which are also called 
 quarters of land (quarterons, cartrons) ; every one of 
 which quarters must contain so much ground as will 
 pasture 400 cows, and 1 7 plough-lands. A knight's 
 fee was composed of 8 hydes, which amount to 160 
 acres, and that is generally deemed about a plough- 
 land." 
 
 The Editor was favoured by a learned friend with 
 the above extract, from a MS. of lord Totness's in 
 the Lambeth library. 
 
 Page 78. Wake. A wake in England means a 
 festival held upon the anniversary of the saint of the 
 parish. At these wakes, rustic games, rustic con- 
 viviality, and rustic courtship, are pursued with all 
 the ardour and all the appetite which accompany such
 
 118 GLOSSARY. 
 
 pleasures as occur but seldom. In Ireland a wake is 
 a midnight meeting, held professedly for the indul- 
 gence of holy sorrow, but usually it is converted into 
 orgies of unholy joy. When an Irish man or woman 
 of the lower order dies, the straw which composed 
 the bed, whether it has been contained in a bag to 
 form a mattress, or simply spread upon the earthen 
 floor, is immediately taken out of the house, and 
 burned before the cabin door, the family at the same 
 time setting up the death howl. The ears and eyes 
 of the neighbours being thus alarmed, they flock to 
 the house of the deceased, and by their vociferous 
 sympathy excite and at the same time soothe the 
 sorrows of the family. 
 
 It is curious to observe how good and bad are 
 mingled in human institutions. In countries which 
 were thinly inhabited, this custom prevented private 
 attempts against the lives of individuals, and formed 
 a kind of coroner's inquest upon the body which had 
 recently expired, and burning the straw upon which 
 the sick man lay became a simple preservative against 
 infection. At night the dead body is waked, that is 
 to say, all the friends and neighbours of the deceased 
 collect in a barn or stable, \vhere the corpse is laid 
 upon some boards, or an unhinged door, supported 
 upon stools, the face exposed, the rest of the body 
 covered with a white sheet. Round the body are 
 stuck in brass candlesticks, which have been borrowed 
 perhaps at five miles' distance, as many candles as the 
 poor person can beg or borrow, observing always to 
 have an odd number. Pipes and tobacco are first
 
 GLOSSARY. 119 
 
 distributed, and then, according to the ability of the 
 deceased, cakes and ale, and sometimes whiskey, are 
 dealt to the company : 
 
 " Deal on, deal on, my merry men all, 
 
 Deal on your cakes and your wine, 
 For whatever is dealt at her funeral to-day 
 
 Shall be dealt to-morrow at mine." 
 
 After a fit of universal sorrow, and the comfort of a 
 universal dram, the scandal of the neighbourhood, as 
 in higher circles, occupies the company. The young 
 lads and lasses romp with one another, and when the 
 father and mothers are at last overcome with sleep 
 and whiskey (vino el somno), the youth become more 
 enterprising, and are frequently successful. It is 
 said, that more matches are made at wakes than at 
 weddings. 
 
 Page 81. Kilt. This word frequently occurs in 
 the preceding pages, where it means not killed, but 
 much hurt. In Ireland, not only cowards, but the 
 brave " die many times before their death." There 
 kitting is no murder.
 
 ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS. 
 
 Summos posse viros, et magna exempla daturos, 
 Vervecutn in patria, crassoque sub ae're nasci. 
 
 JUVENAL.
 
 IRISH BULLS. 
 
 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 WHAT mortal, what fashionable mortal, is 
 there who has not, in the midst of a formidable 
 circle, been reduced to the embarrassment of 
 having nothing to say ? Who is there that has 
 not felt those oppressive fits of silence which 
 ensue after the weather, and the fashions, and 
 the politics, and the scandal, and all the common- 
 place topics of the day have been utterly ex- 
 hausted ? Who is there that, at such a time, 
 has not tried in vain to call up an idea, and 
 found that none would come when they did call, 
 or that all that came were impertinent, and must 
 be rejected, some as too grave, others too gay, 
 some too vulgar, some too refined for the hearers, 
 some relating to persons, others to circumstances 
 that must not be mentioned ? Not one will do ! 
 and all this time the silence lasts, and the diffi- 
 culty of breaking it increases every instant in an 
 incalculable proportion.
 
 124 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 Let it be some comfort to those whose polite 
 sensibility has laboured under such distress to be 
 assured, that they need never henceforward fear 
 to be reduced to similar dilemmas. They may 
 be insured for ever against such dangers at the 
 slight premium and upon the easy condition of 
 perusing the following little volume. It will 
 satisfy them that there is a subject which still 
 affords inexhausted and inexhaustible sources of 
 conversation, suited to all tastes, all ranks, all 
 individuals, democratic, aristocratic, commercial, 
 or philosophic ; suited to every company which 
 can be combined, purposely or fortuitously, in 
 this great metropolis, or in any of the most 
 remote parts of England, Wales, or Scotland. 
 There is a subject which dilates the heart of 
 every true Briton, which relaxes his muscles, 
 however rigid, to a smile, which opens his lips, 
 however closed, to conversation. There is a 
 subject " which frets another's spleen to cure 
 our own," and which makes even the angelic 
 part of the creation laugh themselves mortal. 
 For who can forbear to laugh at the bare idea of 
 an Irish bull ? 
 
 Nor let any one apprehend that this subject 
 can ever become trite and vulgar. Custom 
 cannot stale its infinite variety. It is in the 
 main obvious, and palpable enough for every 
 common understanding ; yet it leads to disqui-
 
 INTRODUCTION. 125 
 
 sitions of exquisite subtlety, it branches into 
 innumerable ramifications, and involves conse- 
 quences of surprising importance ; it may exer- 
 cise the ingenuity of the subtlest wit, the fancy 
 of the oddest humorist, the imagination of the 
 finest poet, and the judgment of the most pro- 
 found metaphysician. Moreover, this happy 
 subject is enveloped in all that doubt and con- 
 fusion which are so favourable to the reputation 
 of disputants, and which secures the glorious 
 possibility of talking incessantly, without being 
 stopped short by a definition or a demonstration. 
 For much as we have all heard and talked of 
 Irish bulls, it has never yet been decided what it 
 is that constitutes a bull. Incongruity of ideas, 
 says one. But this supposition touches too 
 closely upon the definition of wit, which, accord- 
 ing to the best authorities, Locke, Burke, and 
 Stewart, consists in an unexpected assemblage 
 of ideas, apparently discordant, but in which 
 some point of resemblance or aptitude is suddenly 
 discovered. 
 
 Then, perhaps, says another, the essence of a 
 bull lies in confusion of ideas. This sounds 
 plausible in theory, but it will not apply in 
 practice; for confusion of ideas is common to 
 both countries : for instance, was there not some 
 slight confusion of ideas in the mind of that 
 English student, who, when he was asked what
 
 126 
 
 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 progress he had made in the study of medicine, 
 replied, " I hope I shall soon be qualified to be 
 a physician, for I think I am now able to cure a 
 child?" 
 
 To amend our bill, suppose we insert the word 
 laughable, and say that a laughable confusion 
 of ideas constitutes a bull. But have we not a 
 laughable confusion of ideas in our English poet 
 Blackmore's famous lines in Prince Arthur ? 
 
 " A painted vest prince Vortigern had on, 
 Which from a naked Pict his grandsire won." 
 
 We are sensible that, to many people, the 
 most vulgar Irish bull would appear more laugh- 
 able merely from its being Irish, therefore we 
 cannot make the propensity to laughter in one 
 man the criterion of what is ridiculous in another ; 
 though we have a precedent for this mode of 
 judging in the laws of England, which are 
 allowed to be the perfection of human reason. 
 If a man swear that his neighbour has put him 
 in bodily fear, he may have the cause of his 
 terror sent to gaol ; thus the feelings of the 
 plaintiff become the measure of the defendant's 
 guilt. ' As we cannot extend this convenient 
 principle to all matters of taste, and all subjects 
 of risibility, we are still compelled to acknowledge 
 that no accurate definition of a bull has yet been
 
 INTRODUCTION. 127 
 
 given. The essence of an Irish bull must be of 
 the most ethereal nature, for notwithstanding 
 the most indefatigable research, it has hitherto 
 escaped from analysis. The crucible always 
 breaks in the long-expected moment of pro- 
 jection : we have nevertheless the courage to 
 recommence the process in a new mode. Perhaps 
 by ascertaining what it is not, we may at last 
 discover what it is : we must distinguish the 
 genuine from the spurious, the original from all 
 imitations, the indigenous from the exotic ; in 
 short, it must be determined in what an Irish 
 bull essentially differs from a blunder, or in what 
 Irish blunders specifically differ from English 
 blunders, and from those of all other nations. 
 To elucidate these points, or to prove to the 
 satisfaction of all competent judges that they are 
 beyond the reach of the human understanding, 
 is the object of the following Essay concerning 
 the Nature of Bulls and Blunders.
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 ORIGINALITY OF IRISH BULLS EXAMINED. 
 
 THE difficulty of selecting from the vulgar herd 
 of Irish bulls one that shall be entitled to the prize, 
 from the united merits of pre-eminent absurdity, 
 and indisputable originality, is greater than hasty 
 judges may imagine. Many bulls, reputed to be 
 bred and born in Ireland, are of foreign extraction ; 
 and many more, supposed to be unrivalled in their 
 kind, may be matched in all their capital points: for 
 instance, there is not a more celebrated bull than 
 Paddy Blake's. When Paddy heard an English 
 gentleman speaking of the fine echo at the lake of 
 Killarney, which repeats the sound forty times, he 
 very promptly observed, " Faith, that's nothing at 
 all to the echo in my father's garden, in the county 
 of Galway : if you say to it, ' How do you do, Paddy 
 Blake ? ' it will answer, ' Pretty well, I thank you, 
 sir.'" 
 
 Now this echo of Paddy Blake's, which has long 
 been the admiration of the world, is not a prodigy 
 unique in its kind ; it can be matched by one recorded 
 in the immortal works of the great lord Verulam.* 
 
 " I remember well," says this father of philosophy, 
 
 * Natural History, century in. p. 191. Bacon produces it 
 to show that echoes will not readily return the letter S. 
 
 K 1
 
 130 ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS. 
 
 " that when I went to the echo at Port Charenton, 
 there was an old Parisian that took it to be the work 
 of spirits, and of good spirits, ' for/ said he, ' call 
 Satan, and the echo will not deliver back the devil's 
 name, but will say, ' Va t'en.' " 
 
 The Parisian echo is surely superior to the Hiber- 
 nian ! Paddy Blake's simply understood and prac- 
 tised the common rules of good breeding ; but the 
 Port Charenton echo is " instinct with spirit," and 
 endowed with a nice moral sense. 
 
 Amongst the famous bulls recorded by the illus- 
 trious Joe Miller, there is one which has been con- 
 tinually quoted as an example of original Irish genius. 
 An English gentleman was writing a letter in a 
 coffee-house, and perceiving that an Irishman sta- 
 tioned behind him was taking that liberty which 
 Hephsestion used with his friend Alexander, instead 
 of putting his seal upon the lips of the curious imper- 
 tinent, the English gentleman thought proper to 
 reprove the Hibernian, if not with delicacy, at least 
 with poetical justice : he concluded writing his letter 
 in these words : " I would say more, but a damned 
 tall Irishman is reading over my shoulder every word 
 I write." 
 
 " You lie, you scoundrel ! " said the self-convicted 
 Hibernian. 
 
 This blunder is unquestionably excellent ; but it 
 is not originally Irish : it comes, with other riches, 
 from the East, as the reader may find by looking into 
 a book by M. Galland, entitled, " The Remarkable 
 Sayings of the Eastern Nations."
 
 ESSAY ON IHISH BULLS. 131 
 
 " A learned man was writing to a friend ; a trou- 
 blesome fellow was beside him, who was looking over 
 his shoulder at what he was writing. The learned 
 man, who perceived this, continued writing in these 
 words, ' If an impertinent chap, who stands beside 
 me, were not looking at what I write, I would'write 
 many other things to you, which should be known 
 only to you and to me.' 
 
 " The troublesome fellow, who was reading on, 
 now thought it incumbent upon him to speak, and 
 said, ' I swear to you, that I have not read or looked 
 at what you are writing. 
 
 " The learned man replied, 'Blockhead, as you 
 are, why then do you say to me what you are now 
 saying ? '" * 
 
 Making allowance for the difference of manners 
 in eastern and northern nations, there is, certainly, 
 such a similarity between this oriental anecdote 
 and Joe Miller's story, that we may conclude the 
 
 * " Un savant ecrivoit a un ami, et un importun etoit a cote 
 de lui, qui regardoit par dessus 1'epaule ce qu'il ecrivoit. Le 
 savant, qui s'en apperfut, ecrivit ceci a la place : si un imperti- 
 nent qui est a mon cote Tie regardoit pas ce que j'ecris, je vous 
 ecrirois encore plusieurs choses qui ne doivent tre sues que de 
 vous et de moi. L'importun, qui lisoit toujours, prit la parole 
 et dit : ' Je vous jure que je n'ai regarde ni lu ce que vous 
 ecriviez.' Le savant repartit, ' Ignorant, que vous etes, pourquoi 
 me dites-vous done ce que vous dites ? ' " Les Paroles ftemar- 
 quables des Orientaux ; traduction de leurs outrages en Arabe, en 
 Person, et en Turc (sitieant la copie imprimee a Paris), a la Haye, 
 chez Louis et Henry Vandole, march'inds libraires, dans le Poolen, a 
 I'enseigne du Port Rogal, M.DC.XCIV. 
 K2
 
 132 ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS. 
 
 latter is stolen from the former. Now, an Irish 
 bull must be a species of blunder peculiar to Ireland ; 
 those that we have hitherto examined,, though they 
 may be called Irish bulls by the ignorant vulgar, 
 have no right, title, or claim to such a distinction. 
 We should invariably exclude from that class all 
 blunders which can be found in another country. 
 For instance, a speech of the celebrated Irish beauty, 
 
 lady C , has been called a bull ; but as a parallel 
 
 can be produced in the speech of an English noble- 
 man, it tells for nothing. When her ladyship was 
 presented at court, his majesty, George the Second, 
 politely hoped, " that, since her arrival in Eng- 
 land, she had been entertained with the gaieties of 
 London." 
 
 " O yes, please your majesty, I have seen every 
 sight in London worth seeing, except a coronation." 
 
 This naivete is certainly not equal to that of the 
 English earl marshal, who, when his king found 
 fault with some arrangement at his coronation, said, 
 " Please your majesty, I hope it will be better next 
 time." 
 
 A naivete of the same species entailed a heavy tax 
 upon the inhabitants of Beaune, in France. Beaune 
 is famous for burgundy ; and Henry the Fourth, 
 passing through his kingdom, stopped there, and was 
 well entertained by his loyal subjects. His Majesty 
 praised the burgundy which they set before him 
 " It was excellent ! it was admirable ! " 
 
 " O, sire !" cried they, " do you think this excel- 
 lent ? we have muchjiner burgundy than this."
 
 ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS. 133 
 
 " Have you so ? then you can afford to pay for it," 
 replied Harry the Fourth ; and he laid a double tax 
 thenceforward upon the burgundy of Beaune. 
 
 Of the same class of blunders is the following 
 speech, which we actually heard not long ago from 
 an Irishman : 
 
 " Please your worship, he sent me to the devil, 
 and I came straight to your honour." 
 
 We thought this an original Irish blunder, till we 
 recollected its prototype in Marmontel's Annette and 
 Lubin. Lubin concludes his harangue with, " The 
 bailiff sent us to the devil, and we come to put our- 
 selves under your protection, my lord."* 
 
 The French at least in former times, were cele- 
 brated for politeness ; yet we meet with a naive 
 compliment of a Frenchman, which would have been 
 accounted a bull if it had been found in Ireland. 
 
 A gentleman was complimenting madame Denis 
 on the manner in which she had just acted Zara. 
 " To act that part," said she, " a person should be 
 young and handsome." " Ah, madam ! " replied the 
 complimenter na'ivement, " you are a complete proof 
 of the contrary." t 
 
 " Le bailli nous donne au diable, et nous nous recommandons 
 a vous, monseigneur." 
 
 f On faisoit compliment a madame Denis de la fa^on dont elle 
 venoit de jouer Zaire. 
 
 " II faudroit," dit elle, " etre belle et jeune." " Ah, madame !" 
 ruprit le complimenteur naivement, " vous tes bien la preuve du 
 contraire."
 
 134 ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS. 
 
 We know not any original Irish blunder superior 
 to this, unless it be that which lord Orford pro- 
 nounced to be the best bull that he ever heard. 
 
 " I hate that woman," said a gentleman, looking 
 at one who had been his nurse; " I hate that woman, 
 for she changed me at nurse." 
 
 Lord Orford particularly admires this bull, because 
 in the confusion of the blunderer's ideas he is not 
 clear even of his personal identity. Philosophers will 
 not perhaps be so ready as his lordship has been to 
 call this a blunder of the first magnitude. Those 
 \vho have never been initiated into the mysteries of 
 metaphysics may have the presumptuous ignorance 
 to fancy that they understand what is meant by the 
 common words /, or me ; but the able metaphysician 
 knows better than lord Orford's changeling how to 
 prove, to our satisfaction, that we know nothing of 
 the matter. 
 
 " Personal identity," says Locke, " consists not in 
 the identity of substance, but in the identity of con- 
 sciousness, wherein Socrates and the present mayor 
 of Quinborough agree they are the same person : if 
 the same Socrates, sleeping and waking, do not par- 
 take of the same consciousness, Socrates waking and 
 sleeping is not the same person; and to punish 
 Socrates waking for what sleeping Socrates thought, 
 and waking Socrates was never conscious of, would 
 be no more of right than to punish one twin for what 
 his brother twin did, whereof he knew nothing, 
 because their outsides are so like that they could
 
 ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS. 135 
 
 not be distinguished ; for such twins have been 
 seen." * 
 
 We may presume that our Hibernian's conscious- 
 ness could not retrograde to the time when he was 
 changed at nurse ; consequently there was no con- 
 tinuity of identity between the infant and the man 
 who expressed his hatred of the nurse for perpetrat- 
 ing the fraud. At all events, the confusion of iden- 
 tity which excited lord Orford's admiration in our 
 Hibernian is by no means unprecedented in France, 
 England, or ancient Greece, and consequently it 
 cannot be an instance of national idiosyncracy, or an 
 Irish bull. We find a similar blunder in Spain, in 
 the time of Cervantes : 
 
 " Pray tell me, squire," says the duchess, in Don 
 Quixote, " is not your master the person whose 
 history is printed under the name of the sage Hidalgo 
 Don Quixote de la Mancha, who professes himself 
 the admirer of one Dulcinea del Toboso ? " 
 
 " The very same, my lady," answered Sancho; 
 " and I myself am that very squire of his, who is 
 mentioned, or ought to be mentioned, in that history, 
 unless they have changed me in the cradle" 
 
 In Moliere's Amphitrion there is a dialogue between 
 Mercure and Sosie evidently taken from the Attic 
 Lucian. Sosie being completely puzzled out of his 
 personal identity, if not out of his senses, says lite- 
 rally, " of my being myself I begin to doubt in good 
 
 Locke's Essay concerning the Human Understanding, fif- 
 teenth edit. vol. i. p. 292.
 
 136 ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS. 
 
 earnest ; yet when I feel myself, and when I recollect 
 myself, it seems to me that / am I." * 
 
 We see that the puzzle about identity proves at 
 last to be of Grecian origin. It is really edifying to 
 observe how those things which have long been 
 objects of popular admiration shrink and fade when 
 exposed to the light of strict examination. An ex- 
 perienced critic proposed that a work should be 
 written to inquire into the pretensions of modern 
 writers to original invention, to trace their thefts, 
 and to restore the property to the ancient owners. 
 Such a work would require powers and erudition 
 beyond what can be expected from any ordinary 
 individual ; the labour must be shared amongst 
 numbers, and we are proud to assist in ascertaining 
 the rightful property even of bulls and blunders; 
 though without pretending, like some literary blood- 
 hounds, to follow up a plagiarism, where common 
 sagacity is at a fault. 
 
 * " De moi je commence a douter tout de bon. 
 Pourtant quand je me tate, et quand je me rapelle, 
 II me semble que je suis moi."
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 IRISH NEWSPAPERS. 
 
 WE presume that we have successfully disputed 
 the claims imposed upon the public, in behalf of 
 certain spurious alien blunders, pretending to be 
 native, original Irish bulls ; and we shall now with 
 pleasure proceed to examine those which have better 
 titles to notice. Even nonsense ceases to be wor- 
 thy of attention and public favour, unless it be 
 original. 
 
 " Dear lady Emily," says Miss Allscrip, in the 
 excellent comedy of the Heiress " Dear lady Emily, 
 don't you dote upon folly ? " 
 
 " To ecstacy ! " replies her ladyship ; " I only 
 despair of seeing it well kept up." 
 
 We flatter ourselves, " there is no great danger of 
 that," for we have the Irish newspapers before us, 
 where, no doubt, we shall find a fresh harvest of in- 
 digenous absurdity ripe for the sickle. 
 
 The first advertisement that meets our eye is pro- 
 mising. 
 
 It is the late proclamation of an Irish mayor, in 
 which we are informed, that certain business is to be 
 transacted in that city " every Monday (Easter 
 Sunday only excepted)." This seems rather an un- 
 necessary exception ; but it is not an inadvertency,
 
 138 ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS. 
 
 caused by any hurry of business in his worship ; it 
 is deliberately copied from a precedent, set in 
 England, by a baronet formerly well known in par- 
 liament, who, in the preamble to a bill, proposed 
 that certain regulations should take place " on every 
 Monday (Tuesday excepted)." We fear, also, that 
 an English mayor has been known to blunder. Some 
 years ago the mayor of a capital English city pub- 
 lished a proclamation and advertisement, previous 
 to the races, " that no gentleman will be allowed to 
 ride on the course, but the horses that are to run." 
 A mayor's blundering proclamation is not, however, 
 worth half so much in the eye of ridicule as a lord 
 lieutenant's. 
 
 " A saint in crape is twice a saint in lawn." 
 
 A bull on the throne is worth twice as much as a 
 bull in the chair. 
 
 " By the lord lieutenant and council of Ireland. 
 " A proclamation. 
 
 * * * * 
 
 ) 
 
 " Whereas the greatest economy is necessary in 
 the consumption of all species of grain, and, espe- 
 cially in the consumption of potatoes, fyc. 
 
 " Given at the council chamber in Dublin." 
 
 This is the first time we have been informed, by 
 authority, that potatoes are a species of grain ; but 
 we must accede to this new botanical arrangement, 
 when published under such splendid auspices. The 
 assertion certainly is not made in distinct terms :
 
 ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS. 139 
 
 but all who understand the construction of language 
 must imply the conclusion that we draw from these 
 premises. A general position is in the first member 
 of the sentence laid down, " thai the greatest economy 
 is necessary in the consumption of all species of grain" 
 A particular exemplification of the principle is made 
 in the next clause, " especially in the consumption of 
 potatoes" 
 
 The inference is as plain as can be made. 
 
 The next article in our newspaper is an advertise- 
 ment of lands to be let to an improving tenant : 
 " A few miles from Cork, in a most sporting country, 
 bounded by an uncommon Jine turf bog, on the verge 
 of which there are a number of fine lime kilns, where 
 that manure may be had on very moderate terms, 
 the distance for carriage not being many hundred 
 yards. The whole lands being now in great heart, 
 and completely laid down, entirely surrounded and 
 divided by impenetrable furze ditches, made of quarried 
 stone laid edgeways" 
 
 It \rill be a matter of difficulty to the untravelled 
 English reader to comprehend how furze ditches can 
 be made of quarried stones laid edgeways, or any 
 way; and we fear that we should only puzzle his 
 intellects still more if we should attempt to explain 
 to him the mysteries of Irish ditching in the tech- 
 nical terms of the country. With the face of a 
 ditch he may be acquainted, but to the back and 
 gripe, and bottom of the gripe, and top of the back 
 of a ditch, we fear he is still to be introduced. 
 
 We can never sufficiently admire these furze
 
 140 ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS. 
 
 ditches made of quarried stones ; they can, indeed, 
 be found only in Ireland ; but we have heard in 
 England of things almost as extraordinary. Dr. 
 Grey, in his erudite and entertaining notes on 
 Hudibras, records the deposition of a lawyer, who, 
 in an action of battery, told the judge " that the 
 defendant beat his client with a certain wooden in- 
 strument called an iron pestle" Nay, to go further 
 still, a wise annotator on the Pentateuch, named 
 Peter Harrison, observed of Moses's two tables of 
 stone, that they were made of shiltim-ivood. The 
 gtone furze ditches are scarcely bolder instances of 
 the catachresis than the stone tables of shittim-wood. 
 This bold figure of rhetoric in an Irish advertise- 
 ment of an estate may lead us to expect that Hiber- 
 nian advertisers may, in time, emulate the fame of 
 Christie, the prince of auctioneers, whose fine de- 
 scriptive powers can make more of an estate on 
 paper than ever was made of it in any other shape, 
 except in the form of an ejectment. The fictions of 
 law, indeed, surpass even the auctioneer's imagina- 
 tion ; and a man may be said never to know the extent 
 of his own possessions until he is served with a process 
 of ejectment. He then finds himself required to give 
 up the possession of a multitude of barns, orchards, 
 fish-ponds, horse-ponds, dwelling-houses, pigeon- 
 houses, dove-cotes, out-houses, and appurtenances, 
 which he never saw or heard of, and which are 
 nowhere to be found upon the surface of the habit- 
 able globe ; so that Are cannot really express this 
 English legal transaction without being guilty of an
 
 ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS. 141 
 
 Irish bull, and saying that the person ejected is 
 ousted from places which he never entered. 
 
 To proceed with our newspapers. The next ad- 
 vertisement is from a schoolmaster : but we shall not 
 descant upon its grammatical errors, because they are 
 not blunders peculiar to Irish schoolmasters. We 
 have frequently observed that the advertisements of 
 schoolmasters, even in England, are seldom free 
 from solecisms : too much care in writing, it seems, 
 is almost as bad as too little. In the preface of the 
 dictionary of the French Academy, there are, as it 
 is computed by an able French critic, no less than 
 sixteen faults ; and in Harris, the celebrated gram- 
 marian's dedication of his Hermes, there is one bull, 
 and almost as many faults as lines. It appears as if 
 the most precise and learned writers sometimes, like 
 the ladies in one of Congreve's plays, " run into the 
 danger to avoid the apprehension." 
 
 After a careful scrutiny of the Hibernian adver- 
 tisements, we are compelled to confess that we have 
 not met with any blunders that more nearly resemble 
 our notion of an Irish bull than one which, some 
 years ago, appeared in our English papers. It was 
 the title to an advertisement of a washing machine, 
 in these words : " Every Man his own Washer- 
 woman ! " We have this day, Nov. 19, 1807^ seen 
 the following : " This day were published, Memoirs 
 of the Life of Mrs. Elizabeth Carter, with a new 
 edition of her Poems, some of which have never 
 before appeared." And an eye-witness assures us, 
 that lately he saw an advertisement in the following
 
 142 ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS. 
 
 terms stuck up on the walls of an English coffee- 
 house : " This coffee-house removed up-stairs ! " 
 
 A Roman emperor used to draw his stairs up after 
 him every night into his bedchamber, and we have 
 heard of throwing a house out of the windows ; but 
 drawing a whole house up into itself is new. 
 
 How can we account for such a blunder, in an ad- 
 vertisement on the wall of an English coffee-house, 
 except by supposing that it was penned by an Irish 
 waiter ? If that were the case, it would be an 
 admirable example of an Irish bull ! and therefore 
 we had best take it for granted. 
 
 Let not any conscientious person be startled at the 
 mode of reasoning by which we have convicted an 
 imaginary Irish waiter of a real bull : it is at least 
 as good, if not better logic, than that which was 
 successfully employed in the time of the popish plot, 
 to convict an Irish physician of forgery. The matter 
 is thus recorded by L'Estrange. The Irish physi- 
 cian " was charged with writing a treasonable libel, 
 but denied the thing, and appealed to the unlikeness 
 of the characters. It was agreed that there was 
 no resemblance at all in the hands ; but asserted 
 that the doctor had two hands ; his physic hand and 
 his plot hand, and the one not a jot like the other. 
 Now this was the doctor's plot hand, and it was in- 
 sisted that, because it was not like one of his hands, 
 it must be like the other." 
 
 By this convenient mode of reasoning, an Irish- 
 man may, at any time, be convicted of any crime, or 
 of any absurdity.
 
 ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS. 143 
 
 But what have we next in our newspaper? 
 " Murder, Robbery, and Reward." This seems a 
 strange connexion of things, according to our vulgar 
 notions of distributive justice ; but we are told that 
 the wicked shall have their reward even in this 
 world ; and we suppose it is upon this principle, that 
 over the stocks in a town in Ireland there appears 
 this inscription : " A reward for vagabonds." 
 
 Upon proceeding further in our advertisement, 
 which begins with " Murder, Robbery, and Reward," 
 we find, however, that contrary to the just expecta- 
 tions raised by the title, the reward is promised, not 
 to the robbers and murderers, but to those who shall 
 discover and prosecute them to conviction. Here 
 we were led into error by that hasty mode of elision 
 which sometimes obtains in the titles even of our 
 English law processes ; as sci-fa, fi-fa, qui-tam, &c. ; 
 names which, to preserve the glorious uncertainty of 
 the law, never refer to the sense, but to the first 
 words of the writs. 
 
 In our newspaper, a formidable list of unanimous 
 resolutions of various committees and corps succeeds 
 to the advertisement of murder, robbery, and re- 
 ward ; and we have, at the close of each day's 
 business, thanksgivings, in various formulas, for 
 the very proper, upright, or spirited behaviour 
 of our worthy, gallant, or respected chairman. Now 
 that a man may behave properly, or sit uprightly in 
 a chair, we can readily comprehend ; but what are 
 we to understand by a spirited behaviour in a chair ?
 
 144 ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS. 
 
 Perhaps it alludes to the famous duel fought by a 
 gouty Irish gentleman in his arm chair. As the 
 gallant chairman actually in that position shot his 
 adversary, it behoves us to understand the meaning 
 of spirited behaviour in the chair. 
 
 We may, however, venture to hint, fas est et ab 
 hoste doceri, that in the publication of corps and 
 committees, this formula should be omitted "Re- 
 solved unanimously (with only one dissentient voice)." 
 Here the obloquy, meant to rest on the one dissen- 
 tient voice, unfortunately falls upon the publishers 
 of the disgrace, exposing them to the ridicule of 
 resolving an Irish bull. If this be a bull, how- 
 ever, we are concerned to find it is matched by 
 that of the government of Munich, who published a 
 catalogue of forbidden books, and afterwards, under 
 heavy penalties, forbade the reading of the cata- 
 logue. But this might be done in the hurry occa- 
 sioned by the just dread of revolutionary principles. 
 
 What shall we say for the blunder of a French 
 academician, in a time of profound peace, who gave 
 it as his opinion, that nothing should be read in the 
 public sittings of the academy " par dela ce qui est 
 impose par les statuts : il motivait son avis en disant 
 En fait d'inutilites il ne faut que le necessaire" 
 If this speech had been made by a member of the 
 Royal Irish Academy, it would have had the honour 
 to be noticed all over England as a bull. The honour 
 to be noticed, we say, in imitation of the exquisitely 
 polite expression of a correspondent of the English
 
 ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS. 145 
 
 Royal Society, who talks of " the earthquake that 
 had the honour to be noticed by the Royal 
 Society." 
 
 It will, we fear, be long before the Irish emerge 
 so far from barbarism as to write in this style. The 
 Irish are, however, we are happy to observe, making 
 some little approaches to a refined and courtly style ; 
 kings, and in imitation of them, great men, and all 
 who think themselves great a numerous class 
 speak and write as much as possible in the plural 
 number instead of the singular. Instead of /, they 
 always say we; instead of my, our, according to the 
 Italian idiom, which flatters this humour so far as to 
 make it a point of indispensable politeness. It is, 
 doubtless, in humble imitation of such illustrious 
 examples, that an Irishman of the lowest class, when 
 he means to express that he is a member of a com- 
 mittee, says, / am a committee; thus consolidating 
 the power, wisdom, and virtue of a whole committee 
 in his own person. Superior even to the Indian, 
 who believes that he shall inherit the powers and 
 virtues of his enemies after he has destroyed them ; * 
 this committee-man takes possession of the faculties 
 of his living friends and associates. When some of 
 the united men, as they called themselves, were exa- 
 mined, they frequently answered to the questions, 
 who, or what are you ? I am a com'mittee. 
 
 "So Indian murd'rers hope te gain 
 The powers and virtues of the slain, 
 Of wretches they destroy."
 
 146 ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS. 
 
 However extraordinary it may at first sound, to 
 hear one man assert that he is a whole committee, it 
 is not more wonderful than that the whole par- 
 liament of Bordeaux should be found in a one-horse 
 chair.* 
 
 We forbear to descant further upon Irish com- 
 mittee-men, lest we should call to mind, merely by 
 the similarity of name, the times when England had 
 her committee-men, who were not perfectly free 
 from all tinge of absurdity. It is remarkable, that 
 in times of popular ferment, a variety of new terms 
 are coined to serve purposes and passions of the 
 moment. In the days of the English committee- 
 men this practice had risen to such a height, that it 
 M^as fair game for ridicule. Accordingly, sir John 
 Birkenhead, about that time, found it necessary to 
 publish " The Children's Dictionary ; an exact Col- 
 lection of all New Words born since Nov. 3, 1 640, in 
 Speeches, Prayers, and Sermons, as well those that 
 signify something as nothing." We observe that it 
 has been likewise found necessary to publish, in 
 France, une Dictionnaire neologique, a dictionary of 
 the new terms adopted since the revolution. 
 
 It must be supposed, that during the late dis- 
 turbances in Ireland, many cant terms have been 
 brought into use, which are not yet to be reckoned 
 amongst the acknowledged terms of the country. 
 However absurd these may be, they are not for our 
 purpose proper subjects of animadversion. Some 
 
 * Vide Memoires du Cardinal de Retz.
 
 ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS. 147 
 
 countries have their birds of passage, and some their 
 follies of passage, which it is scarcely worth while to 
 shoot as they fly. It has been often said, that the 
 language of a people is a just criterion of their pro- 
 gress in civilization ; but we must not take a speci- 
 men of their vocabulary during the immediate pre- 
 valence of any transient passion or prejudice. It is 
 to be hoped, that all party barbarisms in language 
 will now be disused and forgotten ; for some time 
 has elapsed since we read the following article of 
 country intelligence in a Dublin paper: 
 
 " General scoured the country yesterday, 
 
 but had not the good fortune to meet with a single 
 rebel." 
 
 The author of this paragraph seems to have been 
 a keen sportsman ; he regrets the not meeting with 
 a single rebel, as he would the not meeting with a 
 single hare or partridge; and he justly considers 
 the human biped as fair game, to be hunted down 
 by all who are properly qualified and licensed by 
 government. To the English, perhaps, it may seem 
 a strange subject of lamentation, that a general 
 could not meet with a single rebel in the county of 
 Wicklow, when they have so lately been informed, 
 from the high authority of a noble lord, that Ireland 
 was so disturbed, that whenever he went out, he 
 called as regularly for his pistols as for his hat and 
 gloves. Possibly, however, this was only a figure of 
 speech, like that of bishop Wilkins, who prophesied 
 that the time would come when gentlemen, when 
 they were to go a journey, would call for their wings 
 
 L2
 
 148 ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS. 
 
 as regularly as they call for their boots We be- 
 lieve that the hyperboles of the privy-counsellor and 
 the bishop are of equal magnitude. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 THE CRIMINAL LAW OP BULLS AND BLUNDERS. 
 
 MADAME de Sevigne observes, that there are few 
 people sufficiently candid, or sufficiently enlightened, 
 to distinguish, in their judgments of others, be- 
 tween those faults and mistakes which proceed from 
 manque d'esprit, and those which arise merely from 
 manque d'usage. We cannot appreciate the talents 
 or character of foreigners, without making allow- 
 ance for their ignorance of our manners, of the 
 idiom of our language, and the multifarious signifi- 
 cations of some of our words. A French gentleman, 
 who dined in London, in company with the cele- 
 brated author of the Rambler, wishing to show him 
 a mark of peculiar respect, drank Dr. Johnson's 
 health in these words : " Your health, Mr. Vaga- 
 bond." Assuredly no well-judging Englishman 
 would undervalue the Frenchman's abilities, be- 
 cause he mistook the meaning of the words Vaga- 
 bond and Rambler ; he would recollect, that in old 
 English and modern French authors, vagabond
 
 ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS. 149 
 
 means wanderer : des eaux vagabondes is a phrase 
 far from inelegant. But independently of this con- 
 sideration, no well-bred gentleman would put a 
 foreigner out of countenance by openly laughing at 
 such a mistake : he would imitate the politeness of 
 the Frenchman, who, when Dr. Moore said, " I am 
 afraid the expression I have just used is not 
 French," replied, "Non, monsieur mais il merite 
 bien de 1'etre." It would, indeed, be a great stretch 
 of politeness to extend this to our Irish neighbours: 
 for no Irishism can ever deserve to be Anglicised, 
 though so many Gallicisms have of late not only 
 been naturalized in England, but even adopted by 
 the most fashionable speakers and writers. The 
 mistaking a feminine for a masculine noun, or a 
 masculine for a feminine, must, in all probability, 
 have happened to every Englishman that ever 
 opened his lips in Paris ; yet without losing his re- 
 putation for common sense. But when a poor Irish 
 haymaker, who had but just learned a few phrases 
 of the English language by rote, mistook a feminine 
 for a masculine noun, and began his speech in a 
 court of justice with these words : " My lord, I am a 
 poor widow," instead of, "My lord, I am a poor 
 widower ;" it was sufficient to throw a grave judge 
 and jury into convulsions of laughter. It was for- 
 merly, in law, no murder to kill a merus Hibernians ; 
 and it is to this day no offence against good manners 
 to laugh at any of this species. It is of a thousand 
 times more consequence to have the laugh than the 
 argument on our side, as all those know full well
 
 150 ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS. 
 
 who have any experience in the management of the 
 great or little vulgar. By the common custom and 
 courtesy of England we have the laugh on our side : 
 let us keep it by all means. All means are justi- 
 fiable to obtain a great end, as all great men main- 
 tain in practice, if not in theory. We need not, in 
 imitating them, have any scruples of conscience ; 
 we need not apprehend, that to ridicule our Hiber- 
 nian neighbours unmercifully is unfriendly or unge- 
 nerous. Nations, it has been well observed, are 
 never generous in their conduct towards each other. 
 We must follow the common custom of nations where 
 we have no law to guide our proceedings. We must 
 therefore carefully continue the laudable practice of 
 ridiculing the blunders, whether real or imaginary, 
 of Irishmen. In conversation, Englishmen are per- 
 mitted sometimes to blunder, but without ever being 
 called blunderers. It would, indeed, be an intoler- 
 able restraint upon social intercourse, if every man 
 were subject to be taxed for each inaccuracy of lan- 
 guage if he were compelled to talk, upon all occa- 
 sions, as if he were amenable to a star-chamber of 
 criticism, and surrounded by informers. 
 
 Much must be allowed in England for the licence 
 of conversation ; but by no means must this conver- 
 sation-licence be extended to the Irish. If, for 
 instance, at the convivial hour of dinner, when men 
 are not usually intent upon grammatical or mathe- 
 matical niceties, an Irish gentleman desires him 
 " who rules his roast," to cut the sirloin of beef 
 horizontally downwards, let the mistake immediately
 
 ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS. 151 
 
 be set down in our note-books, and conned over, and 
 got' by heart ; and let it be repeated to all eternity 
 as a bull. But if an English lady observe, when the 
 candles have long stood unsnuffed, that " those 
 odious long wicks will soon grow up to the ceiling," 
 she can be accused only of an error of vision. We 
 conjure our readers to attend to these distinctions in 
 their intercourse with their Hibernian neighbours : 
 it must be done habitually and technically ; and we 
 must not listen to what is called reason ; we must not 
 enter into any argument, pro or con, but silence 
 every Irish opponent, if we can, with a laugh. 
 
 The abbe Girard, in his accurate work, " Syno- 
 nymes Fra^ois," makes a plausible distinction 
 between une dne et un ignorant; he says, " On est 
 ane par disposition: on est ignorant par defaut 
 d'instruction." An ignorant person may certainly, 
 even in the very circumstances which betray his 
 ignorance, evince considerable ability. For instance, 
 the native Indian, who for the first time saw a 
 bottle of porter uncorked, and who expressed great 
 astonishment at the quantity of froth which he saw 
 burst from the bottle, and much curiosity to know 
 whether it could all be put in again, showed even in 
 his ignorance a degree of capacity, which in different 
 situations might have saved his life, or have made 
 his fortune. In the situation of the poor fisherman, 
 and the great giant of smoke, who issued from the 
 small vessel, well known to all versed in the Arabian 
 Tales, such acuteness would have saved his life ; and 
 a similar spirit of inquiry, applied to chemistry.
 
 152 ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS. 
 
 might, in modern times, have made his fortune. 
 Even where no positive abilities are displayed at the 
 time by those who manifest ignorance, we should 
 not (except the culprits be natives of Ireland) hastily 
 give them up. Ignorance of the most common 
 objects is not only incident to certain situations, but 
 absolutely unavoidable; and the individuals placed 
 in those situations are no more blameable than they 
 would be for becoming blind in the snows of Lap- 
 land, or for having goitres amongst the Cretins of Le 
 Vallais. Would you blame the ignorant nuns who, 
 insensible of the danger of an eruption of Mount 
 Vesuvius,* warmed themselves at the burning lava 
 which flowed up to the windows of their cells ? or 
 would you think the French canoness an idiot who, 
 at the age of fifty, was, on account of her health, to 
 go out of her convent, and asked, when she met a 
 cow for the first time, what strange animal that was ? 
 or would you think that those poor children deserved 
 to be stigmatised as fools, who, after being confined 
 for a couple of years in an English workhouse, 
 actually at eight years old had forgotten the names 
 of a pig and a calfrt their ignorance was surely 
 more deplorable than ridiculous. When the London 
 young lady kept a collection of chicken-bones on her 
 plate at dinner, as a bonne-bouche for her brother's 
 
 * Vide Sir W. Hamilton's account of an eruption of Mount 
 Vesuvius. 
 
 f This fact, we believe, is mentioned in a letter of Mrs. 
 Cappe's on parish schools.
 
 ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS. 153 
 
 horse,* Dr. Johnson would not suffer her to be called 
 an idiot, but very judiciously defended her, by 
 maintaining, that her action merely demonstrated 
 her ignorant of points of natural history, on which a 
 London miss had no immediate opportunity of ob- 
 taining information. Had the world always judged 
 upon such subjects with similar candour, the re- 
 proachful cant term of cockney would never have 
 been disgracefully naturalised in the English lan- 
 guage. This word, as we are informed by a learned 
 philologist, originated from the mistake of a learned 
 citizen's son, who having been bred up entirely in 
 the metropolis, was so gloriously ignorant of country 
 life and country animals, that the first time he heard 
 a cock crow, he called it neighing. If such a mis- 
 take had been made by an Irishman, it would surely 
 have been called a bull : it has, at least, as good pre- 
 tensions to the title as many mistakes made by 
 ignorant Hibernians ; for instance, the well-known 
 blunder relative to the sphinx : An uninformed 
 Irishman, hearing the sphinx alluded to in company, 
 whispered to a friend, " The sphinx ! who is that 
 now ? " 
 
 " A monster, man." 
 
 " Oh, a Munster-man : I thought he was from 
 Connaught/' replied our Irishman, determined not 
 to seem totally unacquainted with the family. 
 Gross and ridiculous as this blunder appears, we are 
 compelled by candour to allow, that the affectation 
 
 * Vide Mrs. Piozzi's English Synonymy.
 
 154 ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS. 
 
 of showing knowledge has betrayed to shame men 
 far superior to our Hibernian, both in reputation 
 and in the means of acquiring knowledge. 
 
 Cardinal Richelieu, the Mecaenas or would-be 
 Mecsenas of France, once mistook the name of a 
 noted grammarian, Maurus Terentianus, for a play 
 of Terence's. This is called by the French \vriter 
 who records it, " une bevue bien grossiere." How- 
 ever gross, a mistake can never be made into a bull. 
 We find bevues French, English, Italian, German, 
 Latin, and Greek, of theologians, historians, anti- 
 quarians, poets, critics, and translators, without 
 end. The learned Budseus takes Sir Thomas 
 More's Utopia for a true history; and proposes 
 sending missionaries to work the conversion of so 
 wise a people as the Utopians. An English anti- 
 quarian* mistakes a tomb in a Gothic cathedral for 
 the tomb of Hector. Pope, our great poet, and 
 prince of translators, mistakes Dec. the 8th, Nov. 
 the 5th, of Cinthio, for Dec. 8th, Nov. 5th; and 
 Warburton, his learned critic, improves upon the 
 blunder, by afterward writing the words December 
 and November at full length. Better still, because 
 more comic, is the blunder of a Frenchman, who, 
 puzzled by the title of one of Gibber's plays, " Love's 
 Last Shift," translates it " La Derniere Chemise de 
 1'Amour." We laugh at these mistakes, and forget 
 them ; but who can forget the blunder of the Cork 
 almanac-maker, who informs the world that the 
 
 * John Lydgate.
 
 ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS. 155 
 
 principal republics in Europe are Venice, Holland, 
 and America ? 
 
 The blunders of men of all countries, except 
 Ireland, do not affix an indelible stigma upon 
 individual or national character. A free pardon is, 
 and ought to be, granted by every Englishman to 
 the vernacular and literary errors of those who have 
 the happiness to be born subjects of Great Britain. 
 What enviable privileges are annexed to the birth of 
 an Englishman ! and what a misfortune it is to be a 
 native of Ireland ! 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 LITTLE DOMIN1CK. 
 
 WE have laid down the general law of bulls and 
 blunders ; but, as there is no rule without an excep- 
 tion, we may perhaps allow an exception in favour of 
 little Dominick. 
 
 Little Dominick was born at Fort-Reilly, in 
 Ireland, and bred nowhere until his tenth year, when 
 he was sent to Wales to learn manners and grammar 
 at the school of Mr. Owen ap Davies ap Jenkins ap 
 Jones. This gentleman had reason to think himself 
 the greatest of men ; for he had over his chimney- 
 piece a well-smoked genealogy, duly attested, tracing 
 his ancestry in a direct line up to Noah ; and more- 
 over he was nearly related to the learned etymologist,
 
 156 ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS. 
 
 who, in the time of Queen Elizabeth, wrote a folio 
 to prove that the language of Adam and Eve in 
 Paradise was pure Welsh. With such causes to be 
 proud, Mr. Owen ap Davies ap Jenkins ap Jones 
 was excusable for sometimes seeming to forget that 
 a schoolmaster is but a man. He, however, some- 
 times entirely forgot that a boy is but a boy ; and 
 this happened most frequently with respect to little 
 Dominick. 
 
 This unlucky wight was flogged every morning 
 by his master, not for his vices, but for his vicious 
 constructions, and laughed at by his companions 
 every evening for his idiomatic absurdities. They 
 would probably have been inclined to sympathise in 
 his misfortunes, but that he was the only Irish boy 
 at school ; and as he was at a distance from all his 
 relations, and without a friend to take his part, he 
 was a just object of obloquy and derision. Every 
 sentence he spoke was a bull ; every two words he 
 put together proved a false concord ; and every sound 
 he articulated betrayed the brogue. But as he pos- 
 sessed some of the characteristic boldness of those 
 who have been dipped in the Shannon, he showed 
 himself able and willing to fight his own battles 
 with the host of foes by whom he was encompassed. 
 Some of these, it was said, were of nearly twice his 
 stature. This may be exaggerated, but it is certain 
 that our hero sometimes ventured with sly Irish 
 humour to revenge himself upon his most powerful 
 tyrant by mimicking the Welsh accent, in which 
 Mr. Owen ap Jones said to him, " Cot pless me,
 
 ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS. 157 
 
 you plockit, and shall I never learn you Enclish 
 crammer ? " 
 
 It was whispered in the ear of this Dionysius, that 
 our little hero was a mimick ; and he was treated 
 with increased severity. 
 
 The midsummer holydays approached ; but he 
 feared that they would shine no holydays for him. 
 He had written to his mother to tell her that school 
 would break up the 21st, and to beg an answer, 
 without fail, by return of post; but no answer 
 came. 
 
 It was now nearly two months since he had heard 
 from his dear mother or any of his friends in Ire- 
 land. His spirits began to sink under the pressure 
 of these accumulated misfortunes: he slept little, 
 ate less, and played not at all ; indeed nobody would 
 play with him upon equal terms, because he Mas 
 nobody's equal ; his schoolfellows continued to con- 
 sider him as a being, if not of a different species, at 
 least of a different caste from themselves. 
 
 Mr. Owen ap Jones's triumph over the little Irish 
 plockit was nearly complete, for the boy's heart was 
 almost broken, when there came to the school a new 
 scholar O, how unlike the others ! His name was 
 Edwards ; he was the son of a neighbouring Welsh 
 gentleman; and he had himself the spirit of a 
 gentleman. When he saw how poor Dominick was 
 persecuted, he took him under his protection, fought 
 his battles with the Welsh boys, and, instead of 
 laughing at him for speaking Irish, he endeavoured 
 to teach him to speak English. In his answers to
 
 158 ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS. 
 
 the first question Edwards ever asked him, little 
 Dominick made two blunders, which set all his other 
 companions in a roar ; yet Edwards would not allow 
 them to be genuine bulls. 
 
 In answer to the question, " Who is your father ? " 
 Dominick said, with a deep sigh, " I have no father 
 I am an orphan* I have only a mother." 
 
 " Have you any brothers and sisters ? " 
 
 "No; I wish 1 had; perhaps they would love 
 me, and not laugh at me," said Dominick, with 
 tea*s in his eyes ; " but I have no brothers but 
 myself." 
 
 One day Mr. Jones came into the school-room 
 with an open letter in his hand, saying, " Here, 
 you little Irish plockit, here's a letter from your 
 mother." 
 
 The little Irish blockhead started from his form, 
 and, throwing his grammar on the floor, leaped up 
 higher than he or any boy in the school had ever 
 been seen to leap before, and, clapping his hands, he 
 exclaimed, "A letter from my mother ! And will I 
 hear the letter ? And will I see her once more ? 
 And will I go home these holydays ? O, then I will 
 be too happy ! " 
 
 " There's no tanger of that," said Mr. Owen ap 
 Jones ; "for your mother, like a wise ooman, writes 
 me here, that py the atvice of your cardian, to oom 
 she is coing to be married, she will not pring you 
 
 * Iliad, 6th book, 1. 432, Andromache says to Hector, " You 
 will make your son an orphan, and your wife a widow."
 
 ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS, 159 
 
 home to Ireland till I send her word you are perfect 
 in your Enclish crammer at least." 
 
 " I have my lesson perfect, sir," said Dominick, 
 taking his grammar up from the floor, " tvill I say 
 it now ? " 
 
 " Will I say it now ? No, you plockit, no ; and I 
 will write your mother word you have proke Pris- 
 cian's head four times this tay, since her letter came. 
 You Irish plockit ! " continued the relentless gram- 
 marian, " will you never learn the tifference between 
 shall and tvill ? Will I hear the letter, and will I 
 see her once more ? What Enclish is this, plockit ? " 
 
 The Welsh boys all grinned, except Edwards, who 
 hummed, loud enough to be heard, two lines of the 
 good old English song, 
 
 " And will I see him once again ? 
 And will I hear him speak ? " 
 
 Many of the boys were fortunately too ignorant to 
 feel the force of the quotation ; but Mr. Owen ap 
 Jones understood it, turned upon his heel, and 
 walked off. Soon afterwards he summoned Domi- 
 nick to his awful desk ; and, pointing with his ruler 
 to the following page in Harris's Hermes, bade him 
 " reat it, and understant it, if he could." Little 
 Dominick read, but could not understand. 
 
 " Then read it loud, you plockit." 
 
 Dominick read aloud 
 
 " There is noihing appears so clearly an object of 
 the mind or intellect only as the future does, since
 
 160 ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS. 
 
 we can find no place for its existence any where else: 
 not but the same, if we consider, is equally true of 
 the past " 
 
 "Well, co on What stops the plockit? Can't 
 you reat Enclish now ? " 
 
 " Yes, sir ; but I was trying to understand it. I 
 was considering, that this is like what they would 
 call an Irish bull, if I had said it." 
 
 Little Dominick could not explain what he meant 
 in English, that Mr. Owen ap Jones would under- 
 stand ; and, to punish him for his impertinent 
 observation, the boy was doomed to learn all that 
 Harris and Lowth have written to explain the nature 
 of shall and will. The reader, if he be desirous of 
 knowing the full extent of the penance enjoined, 
 may consult Lowth's Grammar, p. 52, ed. 1799? and 
 Harris's Hermes, p. 10, 11, and 12, 4th edition. 
 Undismayed at the length of his task, little Dominick 
 only said, " I hope, if I say it all without missing a 
 word, you will not give my mother a bad account of 
 me and my grammar studies, sir." 
 
 " Say it all first, without missing a word, and 
 then I shall see what I shall say," replied Mr. Owen 
 ap Jones. 
 
 Even the encouragement of this oracular answer 
 excited the boy's fond hopes so keenly, that he lent 
 his little soul to the task, learned it perfectly, said 
 it at night, without missing one word, to his friend 
 Edwards, and said it the next morning, without 
 missing one word, to his master. 
 
 " And now, sir," said the boy, looking up, " will
 
 ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS. 161 
 
 you write to my mother ? And shall I see her ? And 
 shall I go home ? " 
 
 " Tell me first, whether youunderstant all this that 
 you have learnt so cliply," said Mr. Owen ap Jones. 
 
 That was more than his bond. Our hero's coun- 
 tenance fell : and he acknowledged that he did not 
 understand it perfectly. 
 
 " Then I cannot write a coot account of you and 
 your crammer studies to your mother ; my conscience 
 coes against it," said the conscientious Mr. Owen ap 
 Jones. 
 
 No entreaties could move him. Dominick never 
 saw the letter that was written to his mother ; but 
 he felt the consequence. She wrote word this time 
 punctually by return of the post, that she was sorry 
 that she could not send for him home these holydays, 
 as she heard so bad an account from Mr. Jones, &c. 
 and as she thought it her duty not to interrupt the 
 course of his education, especially his grammar stu- 
 dies. Little Dominick heaved many a sigh when he 
 saw the packings up of all his school-fellows, and 
 dropped a few tears as he looked out of the window, 
 and saw them, one after another, get on their Welsh 
 ponies, and gallop off towards their homes. 
 
 " I have no home to go to," said he. 
 
 "Yes, you have," cried Edwards; "and our 
 horses are at the door to carry us there." 
 
 " To Ireland ? me ! the horses ! " said the poor 
 boy, quite bewildered : " and will they bring me to 
 Ireland?" 
 
 " No ; the horses cannot carry you to Ireland," 
 
 M 1
 
 162 . ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS. 
 
 said Edwards, laughing good-naturedly, "but you 
 have a home now in England. I asked my father to 
 let me take you home with me ; and he says ' Yes,' 
 like a dear good father, and has sent the horses. 
 Come, let's away." 
 
 " But will Mr. Jones let me go ? " 
 
 " Yes ; he dare not refuse ; for my father has a 
 living in his gift that Jones wants, and which he 
 will not have, if he do not change his tune to you." 
 
 Little Dominick could not speak one word, his 
 heart was so full. No boy could be happier than he 
 was during these holydays : " the genial current of 
 his soul," which had been frozen by unkindness, 
 flowed with all its natural freedom and force. 
 
 When Dominick returned to school after these 
 holydays were over, Mr. Owen ap Jones, who now 
 found that the Irish boy had an English protector 
 with a living in his gift, changed his tone. He 
 never more complained unjustly that Dominick broke 
 Priscian's head, seldom called him Irish plockit, and 
 once would have flogged a Welsh boy for taking up 
 this cast-off expression of the master's, but the Irish 
 blockhead begged the culprit off. 
 
 Little Dominick sprang forward rapidly in his 
 studies : he soon surpassed every boy in the school, 
 his friend Edwards only excepted. In process of 
 time his guardian removed him to a higher seminary 
 of education. Edwards had a tutor at home. The 
 friends separated. Afterwards they followed different 
 professions in distant parts of the world ; and they 
 neither saw nor heard any more of each other for
 
 ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS. 163 
 
 many years. From boys they grew into men, and 
 Dominick, now no longer little Dominick, went. over 
 to India as private secretary to one of our com- 
 manders in chief. How he got into this situation, 
 or by what gradations he rose in the world, we are 
 not exactly informed : we know only that he was the 
 reputed author of a much-admired pamphlet on 
 Indian affairs, that the despatches of the general to 
 whom he was secretary were remarkably well written, 
 and that Dominick O'Reilly, esq. returned to Eng- 
 land, after several years' absence, not miraculously 
 rich, but with a fortune equal to his wishes. His 
 wishes were not extravagant : his utmost ambition 
 was to return to his native country with a fortune 
 that should enable him to live independently of all 
 the world, especially of some of his relations, who 
 had not used him well. His mother was no more. 
 
 Upon his arrival in London, one of the first things 
 he did was to read the Irish newspapers. To his 
 inexpressible joy, he saw the estate of Fort-Reilly 
 advertised to be sold the very estate which had 
 formerly belonged to his own family. Away he 
 posted directly to an attorney's who was empowered 
 to dispose of the land. 
 
 When this attorney produced a map of the well- 
 known pleasure-ground, and an elevation of that 
 house in which he had spent the happiest hours of 
 his infancy, his heart was so touched, that he was on 
 the point of paying down more for an old ruin than 
 a good new house would cost. The attorney acted 
 honestly by his client, and seized this moment to 
 M 2
 
 164 ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS. 
 
 exhibit a plan of the stabling and offices, which, as 
 sometimes is the case in Ireland, were in a style far 
 superior to the dwelling-house. Our hero surveyed 
 these with transport. He rapidly planned various 
 improvements in imagination, and planted certain 
 favourite spots in the pleasure-ground. During this 
 time the attorney \vas giving directions to a clerk 
 about some other business : suddenly the name of 
 Owen ap Jones struck his ear He started. 
 
 " Let him wait in the front parlour ; his money is 
 not forthcoming," said the attorney ; " and if he 
 keep Edwards in gaol till he rots " 
 
 " Edwards ! Good heavens ! in gaol ! What 
 Edwards ? " exclaimed our hero. 
 
 It was his friend Edwards. 
 
 The attorney told him that Mr. Edwards had been 
 involved in great distress by taking upon himself his 
 father's debts, which had been incurred in exploring 
 a mine in Wales ; that of all the creditors none had 
 refused to compound, except a Welsh parson, who 
 had been presented to his living by old Edwards ; 
 and that this Mr. Owen ap Jones had thrown young 
 Mr. Edwards into gaol for the debt. 
 
 " What is the rascal's demand ? He shall be paid 
 off this instant," cried Dominick, throwing down the 
 plan of Fort-Reilly : " send for him up, and let me 
 pay him off upon the spot." 
 
 " Had not we best finish our business first, about 
 the O'Reilly estate, sir ? " said the attorney. 
 
 " No, sir ; damn the O'Reilly estate," cried he, 
 huddling the maps together on the desk, and taking
 
 ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS. 165 
 
 up the bank notes, which he had begun to reckon for 
 the purchase money. " I beg your pardon, sir. If 
 you knew the facts, you would excuse me. Why 
 does not this rascal come up to be paid ? " 
 
 The attorney, thunderstruck by this Hibernian 
 impetuosity, had not yet found time to take his pen 
 out of his month. As he sat transfixed in his arm- 
 chair, O'Reilly ran to the head of the stairs, and 
 called out in a stentorian voice, " Here, you Mr. 
 Owen ap Jones ; come up and be paid off this in- 
 stant, or you shall never be paid at all." 
 
 Up stairs hobbled the old schoolmaster, as fast as 
 the gout and Welsh ale would let him. " Cot pless 
 me, that voice," he began 
 
 " Where's your bond, sir ?" said the attorney. 
 
 " Safe here, Cot be praised," said the terrified 
 Owen ap Jones, pulling out of his bosom, first a blue 
 pocket-handkerchief, and then a tattered Welsh 
 grammar, which O'Reilly kicked to the farther end 
 of the room- 
 
 " Here is my bond," said he, "in the crammer," 
 which he gathered from the ground ; then fumbling 
 over the leaves, he at length unfolded the precious 
 deposit. 
 
 O'Reilly saw the bond, seized it, looked at the 
 sum, paid it into the attorney's hands, tore the seal 
 from the bond ; then, without looking at old Jones, 
 whom he dared not trust himself to speak to, he 
 clapped his hat upon his head, and rushed out of the 
 room. Arrived at the King's Bench prison, he hur- 
 ried to the apartment where Edwards was confined.
 
 166 ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS. 
 
 The bolts flew back ; for even the turnkeys seemed 
 to catch our hero's enthusiasm. 
 
 " Edwards, my dear boy ! how do you do ? 
 Here's a bond debt, justly due to you for my educa- 
 tion. O, never mind asking any unnecessary ques- 
 tions ; only just make haste out of this undeserved 
 abode : our old rascal is paid off Owen ap Jones, 
 you know. Well, how the man stares ! Why, now, 
 will you have the assurance to pretend to forget who 
 I am ? and must I spake," continued he, assuming 
 the tone of his childhood, " and must I spake to you 
 again in my ould Irish brogue before you will ricol- 
 lict you own little Dominick ? " 
 
 When his friend Edwards was out of prison, and 
 when our hero had leisure to look into business, he 
 returned to the attorney, to see that Mr. Owen ap 
 Jones had been legally satisfied. 
 
 " Sir," said the attorney, " I have paid the plain- 
 tiffin this suit ; and he is satisfied : but I must say," 
 added he, with a contemptuous smile, " that you 
 Irish gentlemen are rather in too great a hurry in 
 doing business : business, sir, is a thing that must 
 be done slowly to be done well." 
 
 " I am ready now to do business as slowly as you 
 please ; but when my friend was in prison, I thought 
 the quicker I did his business the better. Now tell 
 me what mistake I have made, and I will rectify it 
 instantly." 
 
 " Instantly ! Tis well, sir, with your prompti- 
 tude, that you have to deal with what prejudice 
 thinks uncommon an honest attorney. Here are
 
 ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS. 167 
 
 some bank notes of yours, sir, amounting to a good 
 round sum. You made a little blunder in this busi- 
 ness : you left me the penalty, instead of the prin- 
 cipal, of the bond just twice as much as you should 
 have done." 
 
 " Just twice as much as M r as in the bond, but not 
 twice as much as I should have done, nor half as 
 much as I should have done, in my opinion," said 
 O'Reilly ; " but whatever I did was with my eyes 
 open : I was persuaded you were an honest man ; in 
 which you see I was not mistaken ; and as a man of 
 business, I knew you would pay Jones only his due. 
 The remainder of the money I meant, and mean, 
 should lie in your hands for my friend Edwards's use. 
 I feared he would not have taken it from my hands : 
 I therefore left it in yours. To have taken my friend 
 out of prison merely to let him go back again to-day, 
 for want of money to keep himself clear with the 
 world, would have been a blunder indeed, but not an 
 Irish blunder : our Irish blunders are never blunders 
 of the heart." 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 THE BLISS OF IGNORANCE. 
 
 No well-informed Englishman would laugh at the 
 blunders of such a character as little Dominick ; but 
 there are people who justify the assertion, that laugh-
 
 168 ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS. 
 
 ter always arises from a sense of real or imaginary 
 superiority. Now if it be true, that laughter has 
 its source in vanity, as the most ignorant are gene- 
 rally the most vain, they must enjoy this pleasure 
 in its highest perfection. Unconscious of their own 
 deficiencies, and consequently fearless of becoming 
 in their turn the objects of ridicule, they enjoy in 
 full security the delight of humbling their superiors. 
 How much are they to be admired for the courage 
 with which they apply, on all occasions., their test of 
 truth ! Wise men may be struck with admiration, 
 respect, doubt, or humility ; but the ignorant, hap- 
 pily unconscious that they know nothing, can be 
 checked in their merriment by no consideration, 
 human or divine. Theirs is the sly sneer, the dry 
 joke, and the horse laugh : theirs the comprehensive 
 range of ridicule, which takes " every creature in, 
 of every kind." No fastidious delicacy spoils their 
 sports of fancy : though ten times told, the tale to 
 them never can be tedious ; though dull " as the fat 
 weed that grows on Lethe's bank," the jest for them 
 has all the poignancy of satire : on the very offals, 
 the garbage of wit, they can feed and batten. Happy 
 they who can find in every jester the wit of Sterne 
 or Swift; who else can wade through hundreds of 
 thickly printed pages to obtain for their reward such 
 witticisms as the following : 
 
 " Two Irishmen having travelled on foot from 
 Chester to Barnet, were confoundedly tired and 
 fatigued by their journey ; and the more so when they 
 were told that they had still about ten miles to go.
 
 ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS. 169 
 
 ' By my shoul and St. Patrick/ cries one of them, 
 * it is but five miles a-piece.' " 
 
 Here, notwithstanding the promise of a jest held 
 forth by the words, " By my shoul and St. Patrick," 
 we are ultimately cheated of our hopes. To the 
 ignorant, indeed, the word of promise is kept to the 
 mind as well as to the ear ; but others perceive that, 
 instead of a bull, they have only a piece of senti- 
 mental arithmetic, founded upon the elegant theorem, 
 that friendship doubles all our pleasures, and divides 
 all our pains. 
 
 We must not, from false delicacy to our country- 
 men, here omit a piece of advice to English retailers 
 or inventors of Irish blunders. Let them beware of 
 such prefatory exclamations as " By my shoul and 
 St. Patrick ! By Jasus ! Arrah, honey ! My dear 
 joy ! " &c., because all such phrases, beside being 
 absolutely out of date and fashion in Ireland, raise 
 too high an expectation in the minds of a British 
 audience, operating as much to the disadvantage of 
 the story-teller as the dangerous exordium of " I'll 
 tell you an excellent story;" an exordium ever to be 
 avoided by all prudent wits. 
 
 Another caution should be given to well-meaning 
 ignorance. Never produce that as an Irish bull for 
 which any person of common literature can imme- 
 diately supply a precedent from our best authors. 
 Never be at the pains, for instance, of telling, from 
 Joe Miller, a good story of an Irish sailor, who 
 travelled with Captain Cook round the world, and
 
 170 ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS. 
 
 afterwards swore to his companions that it was as 
 flat as a table. 
 
 This anecdote, however excellent, immediately 
 finds a parallel in Pope : 
 
 " Mad Mathesis alone was unconfined, 
 Too mad for mere material chains to bind ; 
 Now to pure space lifts her ecstatic stare, 
 Now running round the circle finds it square." 
 
 Pope was led into the blunder of representing mad 
 Mathesis running round the circle, and finding it 
 square by a confused notion that mathematicians 
 had considered the circle as composed of straight 
 lines. His mathematical friends could have told him, 
 that though it was talked of as a polygon, it was not 
 supposed to be a square ; but polygon would not have 
 rhymed to stare ; and poets, when they launch into 
 the ocean of words, must have an eye to the helm ; 
 at all events a poet, who is not supposed to be a 
 student of the exact sciences, may be forgiven for a 
 mathematical blunder. This affair of squaring the 
 circle seems to be peculiarly liable to error; for even 
 an accurate mathematician cannot speak of it without 
 committing something very like a bull. 
 
 Dr. Hutton, in his Treatise on Mensuration, 
 p. 119, says, " As the famous quadrature of the late 
 Mr. John Machin, professor of astronomy in Gresham 
 College, is extremely expeditious and but little known, 
 I shall take this opportunity of explaining it." 
 
 It is to be presumed, that the doctor here uses the
 
 ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS. 171 
 
 word famous in that acceptation in which it is daily 
 and hourly employed by our Bond-street loungers, 
 by city apprentices, and men of the ton. ft That was 
 a famous good joke ; " " He is a famous whip ; " 
 " We had a famous hop," &c. Now it cannot be 
 supposed that any of these things are in themselves 
 entitled to fame ; but they may, indeed, by the cour- 
 tesy of England, be at once famous, and but little 
 known. It is unnecessary to enter into the defence 
 either of Dr. Hutton or of Pope, for they were not 
 born in Ireland, therefore they cannot make bulls ; 
 and assuredly theif mistakes will not, in the opinion 
 of any person of common sense or candour, derogate 
 from their reputation. 
 
 " Never strike till you are sure to wound," is a 
 maxim well known to the polite * and politic part of 
 the world. " Never laugh when the laugh can be 
 turned against you," should be the maxim of those 
 who find their chief pleasure in making others ridi- 
 culous. This principle, if applied to our subject, 
 would lead, however, to a very extensive and trouble- 
 some system of mutual forbearance ; troublesome in 
 proportion to the good or ill humour of the parties 
 concerned, extensive in proportion to their knowledge 
 and acquirements. A man of cultivated parts will 
 foresee the possibility of the retort courteous, where 
 an ignorant man will enjoy the fearless bliss of igno- 
 rance. For example, an illiterate person may enjoy 
 a hearty laugh at the common story of an old Irish 
 
 * Lord Chesterfield.
 
 172 ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS. 
 
 beggar-man, who, pretending to be dumb, was 
 thrown off his guard by the question, " How many 
 years have you been dumb ? " and answered, " Five 
 years last St. John's Eve, please your honour." 
 
 But our triumph over the Irishman abates, when 
 we recollect in the History of England, and in Shak- 
 speare, the case of Saunder Simcox, who pretended 
 to be miraculously and instantaneously cured of 
 blindness at St. Alban's shrine. 
 
 Since we have bestowed so much criticism on the 
 blunder of a beggar-man, a word or two must be 
 permitted on the blunder of a thief. It is natural 
 for ignorant people to laugh at the Hibernian who 
 said that he had stolen a pound of chocolate to make 
 tea of. But philosophers are disposed to abstain 
 from the laugh of superiority when they recollect 
 that the Irishman could probably make as good tea 
 from chocolate as the chemist could make butter, 
 sugar, and cream, from antimony, sulphur, and tartar. 
 The absurdities in the ancient chemical nomenclature 
 could not be surpassed by any in the Hibernian 
 catalogue. If the reader should think this a rash and 
 unwarrantable assertion, we refer him to an essay,* 
 in which the flagrant abuses of speech in the old 
 language of chemistry are admirably exposed and 
 ridiculed. Could an Irishman confer a more appro- 
 priate appellation upon a white powder than that of 
 beautiful black ? 
 
 * Essay on Chemical Nomenclature, by S. Dickson, M.D. ; 
 in which are comprised observations on the same subject, by R. 
 Kirwan, Pres. R.I. A Vide pages 21, 22, 23, &c.
 
 ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS. 173 
 
 It is really provoking to perceive, that as our know- 
 ledge of science or literature extends, \ve are in more 
 danger of finding, in our own and foreign languages, 
 parallels and precedents for Irish blunders ; so that 
 a very well informed man can scarcely with any grace 
 or conscience smile, where a booby squire might enjoy 
 a long and loud horse-laugh of contempt. 
 
 What crowds were collected to see the Irish bottle 
 conjuror * get into a quart bottle ; but Dr. Desaguliers 
 had prepared the English to think such a conden- 
 sation of animal particles not impossible. He savs, 
 vol. i. p. 5, of his Lectures on Natural Philosophy, 
 " that the nature of things should last, and their 
 natural course continue the same ; all the changes 
 made in bodies must arise only from the various 
 separations, new conjunctions, and motions, of these 
 original particles. These must be imagined of an 
 unconceivable smallness, but by the union of them 
 there are made bigger lumps," &c. 
 
 Indeed things are now come to such a lamentable 
 pass, that without either literary or scientific acquire- 
 ments, mere local knowledge, such as can be obtained 
 from a finger-post, may sometimes prevent us from 
 the full enjoyment of the Boeotian absurdity of our 
 neighbours. What can, at first view, appear a grosser 
 blunder, than that of the Irishman who begged a 
 friend to look over his library, to find for him the 
 
 * This conjuror, whose name was Broadstreet, was a native 
 of the county of Longford, in Ireland : he by this hit pocketed 
 200/., and proved himself to be more knave than fooL
 
 174 ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS. 
 
 history of the world before the creation ? Yet this 
 anachronism of ideas is not unparalleled ; it is 
 matched, though on a more contracted scale, by an 
 inscription on a British finger-post 
 
 " Had you seen these roads before they were made, 
 You'd lift up your eyes, and bless Marshal Wade ! " 
 
 There is, however, a rabbi, mentioned by Bayle, 
 who far exceeds both the Irishman and the finger- 
 post. He asserts, that Providence questioned Adam 
 concerning the creation before he was born ; and that 
 Adam knew more of the matter than the angels who 
 had laughed at him. 
 
 Those who see things in a philosophical light 
 must have observed more frequently than others, 
 that there is in this world a continual recurrence or 
 rotation of ideas, events, and blunders. With his 
 utmost ingenuity, or his utmost absurdity, a man, in 
 modern days, cannot contrive to produce a system for 
 which there is no prototype in antiquity, or to com- 
 mit a blunder for which there is no precedent. For 
 example : during the late rebellion in Ireland, at the 
 military execution of some wretched rebel, the cord 
 broke, and the criminal, M'ho had been only half 
 hanged, fell to the ground. The Major, who was 
 superintending the execution, exclaimed, " You 
 rascal, if you do that again, I'll kill you, as sure as 
 you breathe." 
 
 Now this is by no means an original idea. In 
 an old French book, called " La Charlatanerie des 
 Savans," is the following note : " D'autres ont pro-
 
 ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS. 175 
 
 pose et resolu en meme terns des questions ridicules; 
 par exemple celle-ci : Devroit-on faire souffrir une 
 seconde fois le meme genre de mort a un criminel, 
 qui apres avoir eu la tete coupee viendroit a re- 
 susciter ? " Finkellh, Praef. ad Observationes Pract. 
 num. 12. 
 
 The passionate major, instead of being a mere 
 Irish blunderer, was, without knowing it, a learned 
 casuist; for he was capable of deciding, in one \rord, 
 a question, which, it seems, had puzzled the under- 
 standings of the ablest lawyers of France, or which 
 had appalled their conscientious sensibility. 
 
 Alas, there is nothing new under the sun ! 
 
 " Where ignorance is bliss, 'Us folly to be wise." 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 " THOUGHTS THAT BREATHE, AND WORDS THAT 
 BURN." 
 
 WE lamented, in our last chapter, that there is 
 nothing new under the sun ; yet, perhaps, the 
 thoughts and phraseology of the following story may 
 not be familiar to the English. 
 
 " Plase your honour," says a man, whose head is 
 bound up with a garter, in token and commemoration 
 of his having been at a fair the preceding night 
 " Plase your honour, it's what I am striving since six 
 o'clock and before, this morning, becaase I'd sooner
 
 176 ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS. 
 
 trouble your honour's honour than any man in all 
 Ireland, on account of your character, and having 
 lived under yoxir family, me and mine, twinty years, 
 aye, say forty again to the back o'that, in the old 
 gentleman's time, as I well remember before I was 
 born ; that same time I heard tell of your own honour's 
 riding a little horse in green with your gun before 
 you, a grousing over our town-lands, which was the 
 mill and abbey of Ballynagobogg, though 'tis now set 
 away from me (owing to them that belied my father) 
 to Christy Salmon, becaase he's an Orangeman or 
 his wife though he was once (let him deny it who 
 can), to my certain knowledge, behind the haystack 
 in Tullygore, sworn in a United man by captain 
 
 Alick, who was hanged Pace to the dead any 
 
 how ! Well, not to be talking too much of that 
 
 now, only for this Christy Salmon, I should be still 
 living under your honour." 
 
 " Very likely ; but what has all this to do with the 
 present business ? If you have any complaint to make 
 against Christy Salmon, make it if not, let me go 
 to dinner." 
 
 " Oh, it would be too bad to be keeping your 
 honour from your dinner, but I'll make your honour 
 sinsible immadiately. It is not of Christy Salmon 
 at-all-at-all I'm talking. May be your honour is not 
 sinsible yet who I am I am Paddy M'Doole, of the 
 Curragh, and I've been a flax-dresser and dealer since 
 I parted your honour's land, and was last night at 
 the fair of Clonaghkilty, where I w r ent just in a quiet 
 way thinking of nothing at all, as any man might,
 
 ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS. 177 
 
 and had my little yarn along with me, my wife's and 
 the girl's year's spinning, and all just hoping to bring 
 them back a few honest shillings as they desarved 
 none better ! Well, plase your honour, my beast 
 lost a shoe, which brought me late to the fair, but 
 not so late but what it was as throng as ever ; you 
 could have walked over the heads of the men, women, 
 and childer, a foot and a horseback, all buying and 
 selling; so I to be sure thought no harm of doing the 
 like ; so I makes the best bargain I could of the little 
 hanks for my wife and the girl, and the man I sold 
 them to was just weighing them at the crane, and I 
 standing forenent him ' Success to myself!' said I, 
 looking at the shillings I was putting into my waist- 
 coat pocket for my poor family, when up comes the 
 inspector, whom I did not know, I'll take my oath, 
 from Adam, nor couldn't know, becaase he was the 
 deputy inspector, and had been but just made, of 
 which I was ignorant, by this book and all the books 
 that ever were shut and opened but no matter for 
 that ; he seizes my hanks out of the scales that I had 
 just sold, saying they were unlawful and forfeit, 
 becaase by his watch it was past four o'clock, which 
 I denied to be possible, plase your honour, becaase 
 not one, nor two, nor three, but all the town and 
 country were selling the same as myself in broad 
 day, only when the deputy came up they stopped, 
 which I could not, by rason I did not know him. 
 ' Sir,' says I (very civil), ' if I had known you, it 
 would have been another case, but any how I hope 
 no jantleman will be making it a crime to a poor man 
 N i
 
 178 ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS. 
 
 to sell his little matter of yarn for his wife and 
 childer after four o'clock, when he did not know it 
 was contrary to law at-all-at-all.' 
 
 " ' I gave you notice that it was contrary to law at 
 the fair of Edgerstown,' said he. ' I axe your par- 
 don, sir,' said I, e it was my brother, for I was by.' 
 With that he calls me liar, and what not, and takes 
 a grip* of me, and I a grip of my flax, and he had a 
 shilalat and I had none; so he gave it me over the 
 head, I crying ' murder ! murder ! ' and clinging to 
 the scales to save me, and they set a swinging and I 
 with them, plase your honour, till the bame comes 
 down a'top o'the back o'my head, and kilt me, as your 
 honour sees." 
 
 " I see that you are alive still, I think." 
 
 " It's not his fault if I am, plase your honour, for 
 he left me for dead, and I am as good as dead still : 
 if it be plasing to your honour to examine my head, 
 you'll be sinsible I'm telling nothing but the truth. 
 Your honour never seen a man kilt as I was and am 
 all which I'm ready (when convanient) to swear 
 before your honour." J 
 
 The reiterated assurances which this hero gives us 
 of his being killed, and the composure with which he 
 offers to swear to his own assassination and decease, 
 appear rather surprising and ludicrous to those who 
 
 * A gripe or fast hold. 
 
 + An oak stick, supposed to be cut from the famous wood of 
 Shilala. 
 
 This is nearly verbatim from a late Irish complainant.
 
 ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS. 179 
 
 are not aware that kill is here used in a metaphorical 
 sense, and that it has not the full force of our word 
 killed. But we have been informed by a lady of 
 unquestionable veracity, that she very lately received 
 a petition worded in this manner 
 
 " To the right hon. lady E P . 
 
 " Humbly showeth ; 
 
 " That your poor petitioner is now lying dead in 
 a ditch," &c. 
 
 This poor Irish petitioner's expression, however 
 preposterous it sounds, might perhaps be justified, 
 if we were inclined to justify an Irishman by the 
 example, not only of poets comic and tragic, but of 
 prose writers of various nations. The evidence in 
 favour both of the fact and the belief, that people can 
 speak and walk after they are dead, is attested by 
 stout warriors and grave historians. Let us listen to 
 the solemn voice of a princess, who comes sweeping 
 in the sceptred pall of gorgeous tragedy, to inform 
 us that half herself has buried the other half. 
 
 " Weep eyes ; melt into tears these cheeks to lave : 
 One half myself lays t'other in the grave." * 
 
 For six such lines as these Corneille received six 
 thousand livres, and the admiration of the French 
 court and people during the Augustan age of French 
 literature. But an Italian is not content with killing 
 
 * " Pleurez, pleurez mes yeux et fondez vous en eau, 
 
 La moitie de ma vie a mis 1'autre au tombeau." 
 
 N2
 
 180 ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS. 
 
 by halves. Here is a man from Italy who goes on 
 fighting, not like Witherington, upon his stumps, 
 but fairly after he is dead. 
 
 " Nor yet perceived the vital spirit fled, 
 
 But still fought on, nor knew that he was dead." * 
 
 Common sense is somewhat shocked at this single 
 instance of an individual fighting after he is dead ; 
 but we shall, doubtless, be reconciled to the idea by 
 the example of a gallant and modern commander, 
 who has declared his opinion, that nothing is more 
 feasible than for a garrison to fight, or at least to 
 surrender, after they are dead, nay, after they are 
 buried. Witness this public document. 
 
 " Liberty and Equality. 
 , 6. } Garrison of Ostend. 
 
 " Muscar, commandant of Ostend, to the com- 
 mandant in chief of his British majesty. 
 " General, 
 
 " The council of war was sitting when I received 
 the honour of your letters. We have unanimously 
 resolved not to surrender the place until we shall 
 have been buried in its ruins," &c. 
 
 One step further in hyperbole is reserved for him, 
 who, being buried, carries about his own sepulchre. 
 
 " H pover uomo che non sen' era accorto, 
 Andava combattendo ed era niorto."
 
 ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS. 181 
 
 " To live a life half dead, a living death, 
 And buried ; but oh, yet more miserable ! 
 Myself my sepulchre, a moving grave !" 
 
 No person, if he heard this passage for the first 
 time from the lips of an Irishman, could hesitate to 
 call it a series of bulls ; yet these lines are part of 
 the beautiful complaint of Samson Agonistes on his 
 blindness. Such are the hyperboles sanctioned by 
 the genius, or, what with some judges may have 
 more influence, the name of Milton. The bounds 
 which separate sublimity from bombast, and absur- 
 dity from wit, are as fugitive as the boundaries of 
 taste. Only those who are accustomed to examine 
 and appraise literary goods are sensible of the pro- 
 digious change that can be made in their apparent 
 value by a slight change in the manufacture. The 
 absurdity of a man's swearing he was killed, or de- 
 claring that he is now dead in a ditch, is revolting 
 to common sense ; yet the living death of Dapperwit, 
 in the " Rape of the Lock," is not absurd, but witty ; 
 and representing men as dying many times before 
 their death is in Shakspeare sublime : 
 
 *' Cowards die many times before their death ; 
 The brave can never taste of death but once." 
 
 The most direct contradictions in words do not 
 (in English writers) destroy the effect of irony, wit, 
 pathos, or sublimity. 
 
 In the classic ode on Eton College, the poet ex- 
 claims
 
 182 ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS. 
 
 " To each their sufferings, all are men 
 
 Condemned alike to groan ; 
 The feeling for another's pain, 
 
 Th' unfeeling for their own." 
 
 Who but a half-witted dunce would ask how those 
 that are unfeeling can have sufferings ? When Milton 
 in melodious verse inquires 
 
 " Who shall tempt with wandering feet 
 The dark unbuttom'd infinite abyss, 
 And through the palpable obscure find out 
 His uncouth way ! " 
 
 what Zoilus shall dare interrupt this flow of poetry 
 to object to the palpable obscure, or to ask how feet 
 can wander upon that which has no bottom ? 
 
 It is easy, as Tully has long ago observed, to fix 
 the brand of ridicule upon the verbum ardens of 
 orators and poets the " Thoughts that breathe, and 
 words that burn." 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 PRACTICAL BULLS. 
 
 As we have not hitherto been successful in finding 
 original Irish bulls in language, we must now look 
 for them in conduct. A person may be guilty of a 
 solecism without uttering a single syllable " That 
 man has been guilty of a solecism with his hand," an 
 ancient critic said of an actor, who had pointed his
 
 ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS. 183 
 
 hand upwards when invoking the infernal gods 
 " You may act a lie as well as speak one/' says 
 Wollaston. Upon the same principle, the Irish may 
 be said to act, as well as to utter bulls. We shall 
 give some instances of their practical bulls, which 
 we hope to find unmatched by the blunders of all 
 other nations. Most people, whether they be savage 
 or civilized, can contrive to revenge themselves upon 
 their enemies without blundering ; but the Irish are 
 exceptions. They cannot even do this without a 
 butt. During the late Irish rebellion, there was a 
 banker to whom they had a peculiar dislike, and on 
 whom they had vowed vengeance : accordingly they 
 got possession of as many of his bank-notes as they 
 could, and made a bonfire of them ! This might 
 have been called a feu de joie, perhaps, but certainly 
 not un feu d'artifice ; for nothing could show less 
 art than burning a banker's notes in order to destroy 
 his credit. How much better do the English un- 
 derstand the arts of vengeance ! Captain Drink- 
 water * informs us, that during the siege of Gibraltar, 
 the English, being half famished, were most violently 
 enraged against the Jews, who withheld their stores 
 of provision, and made money of the public distress 
 a crime never committed except by Jews : at length 
 the fleet relieved the besieged, and as soon as the 
 fresh provisions were given out, the English soldiers 
 and sailors, to revenge themselves upon the Jews, 
 burst open their stores, and actually roasted a pig at 
 
 See his account of the siege of Gibraltar.
 
 184 ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS. 
 
 a fire made of cinnamon. There are other persons, 
 as well as the Irish, who do not always understand 
 their own interests where their passions are con- 
 cerned. That great warrior, Hyder Ali, once lost a 
 battle by a practical bull. Being encamped within 
 sight of the British, he resolved to give them a high 
 idea of his forces and of his artillery ; for this pur- 
 pose, before the engagement,* he ordered his army 
 to march early, and conveying some large pieces of 
 cannon to the top of a hill, he caused them to be 
 pointed at the English camp, which they reached 
 admirably well, and occasioned a kind of disorder 
 and haste in striking and removing tents, &c. Hyder, 
 delighted at having thus insulted the English, caused 
 all his artillery, even the very smallest pieces, to be 
 drawn up the hill for the purpose of making a vain 
 parade, though the greater part of the balls could 
 never reach the English : he imagined he should 
 give the enemy a high idea of his forces, and inti- 
 midate them by showing all his artillery, and the 
 vivacity with which it was worked; and in order 
 that his intention might be answered, he encouraged 
 the soldiers himself by giving money to the can- 
 noneers of those pieces that appeared to be the best 
 served. 
 
 The English presently, after this farce was over, 
 obliged Hyder to come down from labour-in-vain 
 hill, and to give them battle in earnest. As the 
 historian observes, " The ridiculous cannonade at the 
 
 " Life of Hyder Ali Khan, vol. ii. p. 231.
 
 ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS. 185 
 
 top of the hill had exhausted his ammunition, his 
 great guns were useless to him, and he lost the day 
 by his premature rejoicings before the battle." A 
 still more ancient precedent for this preposterous 
 practical bull, of rejoicing for an anticipated victory, 
 was given by Xerxes, we believe, who brought with 
 him an immense block of marble, on which he in- 
 tended to inscribe the date and manner of his 
 victory over the Greeks. When Xerxes was de- 
 feated, the Greeks dedicated this stone to Nemesis, 
 the goddess of vengeance. But Xerxes was in the 
 habit of making practical bulls, such as whipping 
 the sea, and begging pardon for it afterwards ; 
 throwing fetters into the Hellespont as a token of 
 subjugation, and afterwards expiating his offence by 
 an offering of a golden cup and Persian scimetar. 
 
 To such blunders can the passions betray the most 
 renowned heroes, although they had not the mis- 
 fortune to have been born in Ireland. 
 
 The impatience which induced Hyder AH to an- 
 ticipate victory is not confined to military men and 
 warlike operations; if we descend to common life 
 and vulgar business, we shall find the same disposi- 
 tion even in the precincts of Change-alley: those 
 who bargained for South Sea stock, that was not 
 actually forthcoming, were called bears, in allusion 
 to the practice of the hunters of bears in Canada, 
 who were accustomed to bargain for the skin of the 
 bear before it was caught ; but whence the correla- 
 tive term bull is derived we are at a loss to deter- 
 mine, and we must also leave it to the mercantile
 
 186 ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS. 
 
 speculators of England to explain why gentlemen 
 call themselves bulls of wheat and bulls of coals: 
 all we can say is, that these are not Irish bulls. 
 There is one distinguished peculiarity of the Irish 
 bull its horns are tipped with brass* It is gene- 
 rally supposed that persons who have been dipped in 
 the Shannon t are ever afterwards endowed with a 
 supernatural portion of what is called by enemies 
 impudence or assurance, by friends, self-possession 
 or civil courage. These invulnerable mortals are 
 never oppressed with mauvaise honte, that malady 
 which keeps the faculties of the soul under ima- 
 ginary imprisonment. A well-dipped Irishman, on 
 the contrary, can move, speak, think, like Demos- 
 thenes, with as much ease, when the eyes of 
 numbers are upon him, as if the spectators were so 
 many cabbage-stalks. This virtue of civil courage 
 is of inestimable value in the opinion of the best 
 judges. The great lord Verulam no one, by-the- 
 bye, could be a better judge of its value than he, 
 who wanted it so much the great lord Verulam 
 declares, that if he were asked what is the first, 
 second, and third thing necessary to success in 
 public business, he should answer boldness, boldness, 
 boldness. Success to the nation which possesses it 
 in perfection ! Bacon was too acute and candid a 
 philosopher not to acknowledge, that like all the 
 
 See the advice of Cleomeues to Crius. HERODOTUS 
 ERATO. 
 
 f- It is said that the waters of the Garonne are famed for a 
 similar virtue .
 
 ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS. 187 
 
 other goods of life this same boldness has its counter- 
 vailing disadvantages. 
 
 "Certainly/' says he, "to men of great judg- 
 ment, bold persons are a sport to behold ; nay, and to 
 the vulgar, boldness hath somewhat of the ridiculous; 
 for if absurdity be the subject of laughter, doubt 
 you not but great boldness is seldom without some 
 absurdity ; especially it is a sport to see when a bold 
 fellow is out of countenance, for that puts his face 
 into a most shrunken and wooden posture, as needs 
 it must." 
 
 The man, however, who possesses boldness in per- 
 fection, can never be put out of countenance, -and 
 consequently can never exhibit, for the sport of his 
 enemies, a face in this wooden posture. It is the 
 deficiency, and not the excess of this quality, that 
 is to be feared. Civil boldness without military 
 courage would, indeed, be somewhat ridiculous : but 
 we cannot accuse the Irish of any want of military 
 courage ; on the contrary, it is supposed in England, 
 that an Irishman is always ready to give any gentle- 
 man satisfaction, even when none is desired. 
 
 At the close of the American war, as a noble lord 
 of high naval character was returning home to his 
 family after various escapes from danger, he was 
 detained a day at Holyhead by contrary winds. 
 Reading in a summer-house, he heard the well- 
 known sound of bullets whistling near him : he looked 
 about, and found that two balls had just passed 
 through the door close beside him ; he looked out of 
 the window, and saw two gentlemen who were just
 
 188 ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS. 
 
 charging their pistols again, and, as he guessed that 
 they had been shooting at a mark upon the door, he 
 rushed out, and very civilly remonstrated with them 
 on the imprudence of firing at the door of a house 
 without having previously examined whether any 
 one was withinside. One of them immediately 
 answered, in a tone which proclaimed at once his 
 disposition and his country, " Sir, I did not know 
 you were within there, and I don't know who you 
 are now; but if I've given offence, I am willing," 
 said he, holding out the ready-charged pistols, " to 
 give you the satisfaction of a gentleman take your 
 choice." 
 
 With his usual presence of mind the noble lord 
 seized hold of both the pistols, and said to his asto- 
 nished countryman, " Do me the justice, sir, to go 
 into that summer-house, shut the door, and let me 
 have two shots at you ; then we shall be upon equal 
 terms, and I shall be quite at your service to give or 
 receive the satisfaction of a gentleman." 
 
 There was an,air of drollery and of superiority in 
 his manner which at once struck and pleased the 
 Hibernian. " Upon my conscience, sir, I believe 
 you are a very honest fellow," said he, looking him 
 earnestly in the face, " and I have a great mind to 
 shake hands with you. Will you only just tell me 
 who you are ?" 
 
 The nobleman told his name a name dear to 
 every Briton and every Irishman. 
 
 " I beg your pardon, and that's what no man ever 
 accused me of doing before," cried the gallant
 
 ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS. 189 
 
 Hibernian ; " and had I known who you were, I 
 would as soon have shot my orvn soul as have fired at 
 the door. But how could I tell who \vas within- 
 side ? " 
 
 " That is the very thing of which I complain," 
 said his lordship. 
 
 His candid opponent admitted the justice of the 
 complaint as soon as he understood it, and he pro- 
 mised never more to be guilty of such a practical 
 bull. 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 THE DUBLIN SHOEBLACK. 
 
 UPON looking over our last chapter on practical 
 bulls, we were much concerned to find that we have 
 so few Irish and so many foreign blunders. It is 
 with still more regret we perceive that, notwith- 
 standing our utmost diligence, we have not yet been 
 able to point out the distinguishing characteristic of 
 an Irish bull. But to compensate for this disap- 
 pointment we have devised a syllogism, which some 
 people may prefer to an a priori argument, to prove 
 irrefragably, that the Irish are blunderers. 
 
 After the instances we have produced, chapter 
 6th, of the verbum ardens of English and foreign 
 poets, and after the resemblance that we have pointed 
 out betwixt certain figures of rhetoric and the Irish
 
 190 ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS. 
 
 bull, we have little reason to fear that the candid 
 and enlightened reader should object to our major. 
 
 Major. Those who use figurative language are 
 disposed to make bulls. 
 
 Minor. The Irish use figurative language. 
 
 Conclusion. Therefore the Irish are disposed to 
 make bulls. 
 
 We proceed to establish the truth of our minor, 
 and the first evidence we shall call is a Dublin shoe- 
 black. He is not in circumstances peculiarly favour- 
 able for the display of figurative language ; he is in 
 a court of justice, upon his trial for life or death. A 
 quarrel happened between two shoeblacks, who were 
 playing at what in England is called pitch-farthing, 
 or heads and tails, and in Ireland, head or harp. 
 One of the combatants threw a small paving stone at 
 his opponent, who drew out the knife with which he 
 used to scrape shoes, and plunged it up to the hilt in 
 his companion's breast. It is necessary for our story 
 to say, that near the hilt of this knife was stamped 
 the name of Lamprey, an eminent cutler in Dublin. 
 The shoeblack was brought to trial. With a number 
 of significant gestures, which on his audience had 
 all the powers that Demosthenes ascribes to action, 
 he, in a language not purely Attic, gave the follow- 
 ing account of the affair to his judge. 
 
 " Why, my lard, as I was going past the Royal 
 Exchange I meets Billy. ' Billy/ says I, ' will you 
 sky a copper ? ' ' Done,' says he, ' Done,' says I ; 
 and done and done's enough between two jantlemen. 
 With that I ranged them fair and even with my
 
 ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS. 191 
 
 hook-em-snivey up they go. ' Music ! ' says he, 
 ' Skulls ! ' says I ; and down they come three brown 
 mazards. ' By the holy ! you flesh'd em/ says he. 
 ' You lie/ says I. With that he ups with a lump 
 of a two year old, and lets drive at me. I outs with 
 my bread-earner, and gives it him up to Lamprey in 
 the bread-basket." 
 
 To make this intelligible to the English, some 
 comments are necessary. Let us follow the text, 
 step by step, and it will afford our readers, as lord 
 Kames says of Blair's Dissertation on Ossian, a de- 
 licious morsel of criticism. 
 
 As I was going past the Royal Exchange I meets 
 Billy. 
 
 In this apparently simple exordium, the scene and 
 the meeting with Billy are brought before the eye 
 by the judicious use of the present tense. 
 
 Billy, says I, mill you sky a copper ? 
 
 A copper ! genus pro specie ! the generic name of 
 copper for the base individual halfpenny. 
 
 Sky a copper. 
 
 To sky is a new verb, which none but a master 
 hand could have coined : a more splendid metonomy 
 could not be applied upon a more trivial occasion : 
 the lofty idea of raising a metal to the skies is sub- 
 stituted for the mean thought of tossing up a half- 
 penny. Our orator compresses his hyperbole into a 
 single word. Thus the mind is prevented from 
 dwelling long enough upon the figure to perceive its 
 enormity. This is the perfection of the art. Let 
 the genius of French exaggeration and of eastern
 
 lUii ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS. 
 
 hyperbole hide their diminished heads Virgil is 
 scarcely more sublime. 
 
 " Ingrediturque solo et caput inter nubila condit." 
 " Her feet on earth, her head amidst the clouds." 
 
 Up they go, continues our orator. 
 
 Music ! says he Skulls ! says I. 
 
 Metaphor continually : on one side of an Irish 
 halfpenny there .is a harp ; this is expressed by the 
 general term music, which is finely contrasted with 
 the word scull. 
 
 Down they come, three brown mazards. 
 
 Mazards ! how the diction of our orator is enriched 
 from the vocabulary of Shakspeare ! the word head, 
 instead of being changed for a more general term, is 
 here brought distinctly to the eye by the term 
 mazard, or face, which is more appropriate to his 
 majesty's profile than the word skull or head. 
 
 By the holy ! you flesh' d 'em, says he. 
 
 By the holy ! is an oath in which more is meant 
 than meets the ear; it is an ellipsis an abridgment 
 of an oath. The full formula runs thus By the 
 holy poker of hell ! This instrument is of Irish in- 
 vention or imagination. It seems a useful piece of 
 furniture in the place for which it is intended, to 
 stir the devouring flames, and thus to increase the 
 torments of the damned. Great judgment is neces- 
 sary to direct an orator how to suit his terms to his 
 auditors, so as not to shock their feelings either by 
 what is too much above or too much below common 
 life. In the use of oaths, where the passions are
 
 ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS. 193 
 
 warm, this must be particularly attended to, else 
 they lose their effect, and seem more the result of 
 the head than the heart. But to proceed 
 
 By the holy ! you flesh' d 'em. 
 
 To flesh is another verb of Irish coinage; it 
 means, in shoeblack dialect, to touch a halfpenny, as 
 it goes up into the air, with the fleshy part of the 
 thumb, so as to turn it which way you please, and 
 thus to cheat your opponent. What an intricate ex- 
 planation saved by one word ! 
 
 You lie, says I. 
 
 Here no periphrasis would do the business. 
 
 With that he ups with a lump of a two year old, 
 and lets drive at me. 
 
 He ups with. A verb is here formed of two pre- 
 positions a novelty in grammar. Conjunctions, we 
 all know, are corrupted Anglo-Saxon verbs; but 
 prepositions, according to Home Tooke, derive only 
 from Anglo-Saxon nouns. 
 
 All this time it is possible that the mere English 
 reader may not be able to guess what it is that our 
 orator ups with or takes up. He should be apprised, 
 that a lump of a two year old is a middle-sized stone. 
 This is a metaphor, borrowed partly from the grazier's 
 vocabulary, and partly from the arithmetician's vade- 
 mecum. A stone, to come under the denomination 
 of a lump of a two year old, must be to a less stone 
 as a two year old calf is to a yearling ; or it must be 
 to a larger stone than itself, as a two year old calf is 
 to an ox. Here the scholar sees that there must be 
 two statements, one in the rule of three direct and
 
 194 ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS. 
 
 one in the rule of three inverse, to obtain precisely 
 the thing required; yet the untutored Irishman, 
 without suspecting the necessity of this operose pro- 
 cess, arrives at the solution of the problem by some 
 short cut of his own, as he clearly evinces by the 
 propriety of his metaphor. To be sure, there seems 
 some incongruity in his throwing this lump of a two 
 year old calf at his adversary. No arm but that of 
 Milo could be strong enough for such a feat. Upon 
 recollection, however, bold as this figure may seem, 
 there are precedents for its use. 
 
 " We read in a certain author," says Beattie, 
 " of a giant, who, in his wrath, tore off the top of 
 the promontory, and flung it at the enemy; and so 
 huge was the mass, that you might, says he, have 
 seen goats browsing on it as it flew through the air." 
 Compared \vith this, our orator's figure is cold and 
 tame. 
 
 " I outs with my bread-earner," continues he. 
 
 We forbear to comment on outs with, because the 
 intelligent critic immediately perceives that it has 
 the same sort of merit ascribed to ups with. What 
 our hero dignifies with the name of his bread-earner 
 is the knife with which, by scraping shoes, he earned 
 his bread. Pope's ingenious critic, Mr. Warton, 
 bestow's judicious praise upon the art with which this 
 poet, in the Rape of the Lock, has used many 
 " periphrases and uncommon expressions," to avoid 
 mentioning the name of scissors, which would sound 
 too vulgar for epic dignity fatal engine, forfex, 
 meeting points, &c. Though the metonymy of
 
 ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS. 195 
 
 bread-earner for a shoeblack's knife may not equal 
 these in elegance, it perhaps surpasses them in in- 
 genuity. 
 
 / gives it him up to Lamprey in the bread-basket.* 
 Homer is happy in his description of wounds, but 
 this surpasses him in the characteristic choice of cir- 
 cumstance. Up to Lamprey, gives us at once a 
 complete idea of the length, breadth, and thickness 
 of the wound, without the assistance of the coroner. 
 It reminds us of a passage in Virgil 
 
 " Cervice orantis capulo tenus abdidit ensem." 
 " Up to the hilt his shining falchion sheathed." 
 
 Let us now compare the Irish shoeblack's meta- 
 phorical language with the sober slang of an English 
 blackguard, who fortunately for the fairness of the 
 comparison, was placed somewhat in similar circum- 
 stances. 
 
 Lord Mansfield, examining a man who was a wit- 
 ness in the court of King's Bench, asked him what 
 he knew of the defendant. 
 
 " Oh, my lord, I knew him. I was up to him." 
 " Up to him !" says his lordship ; " what do you 
 mean by being up to him ? " 
 
 " Mean, my lord ! why, / was down upon him." 
 " Up to him, and down upon him ! " says his 
 lordship, turning to counsellor Dunning, " what 
 does the fellow mean ? " 
 
 The stomach. 
 
 o 2
 
 196 ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS. 
 
 " Why, I mean, my lord, as deep as he thought 
 himself, / slugged him." 
 
 " I cannot conceive, friend," says his lordship, 
 " what you mean by this sort of language ; I do not 
 understand it." 
 
 " Not understand it !" rejoined the fellow, with 
 surprise : " Lord, rvhal aflat you must be ! " 
 
 Though he undervalued lord Mansfield, this man 
 does not seem to have been a very bright genius. In 
 his cant words, " up to him, down upon him, slagged 
 him," there are no metaphors ; and we confess our- 
 selves to be as great flats as his lordship, for we do 
 not understand this sort of language. 
 
 " True, no meaning puzzles more than wit," 
 
 as we may see in another English example. Pro- 
 verbs have been called the wisdom of nations ; there- 
 fore it is fair to have recourse to them in estimating 
 national abilities. Now there is an old English pro- 
 verb, " Tenterten steeple is the cause of Goodwin 
 sands." 
 
 " This proverb," says Mr. Ray, " is used when an 
 absurd and ridiculous reason is given of any thing 
 in question; an account of the original whereof I find 
 in one of bishop Latimer's sermons in these words 
 ' Mr. Moore was once sent with commission into 
 Kent to try out, if it might be, what was the cause 
 of Goodwin's sands, and the shelf which stopped up 
 Sandwich haven. Thither cometh Mr. Moore, and 
 calleth all the country before him, such as were 
 thought to be men of experience, and men that could,
 
 ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS. 197 
 
 of all likelihood, best satisfy him of the matter con- 
 cerning the stopping of Sandwich haven. Among 
 the rest came in before him an old man with a white 
 head, and one that was thought to be little less than 
 a hundred years old. When Mr. Moore saw this 
 aged man, he thought it expedient to hear him say 
 his mind in this matter (for being so old a man, it 
 was likely that he knew the most in that presence 
 or company) ; so Mr. Moore called this old aged man 
 unto him and said, ' Father,' said he, ' tell me, 
 if you can, what is the cause of the great arising of 
 the sands and shelves here about this haven, which 
 stop it up so that no ships can arrive here. You are 
 the oldest man I can espy in all the company, so that 
 if any man can tell any cause of it, you, of all like- 
 lihood, can say most to it, or, at leastwise, more than 
 any man here assembled.' 
 
 " ' Yea, forsooth, good Mr. Moore,' quoth this old 
 man, ' for I am well nigh a hundred years old, and 
 no man here in this company any thing near my age.' 
 
 " ' Well, then,' quoth Mr. Moore, ' how say you 
 to this matter ? What think you to be the cause of 
 these shelves and sands which stop up Sandwich 
 haven ? ' 
 
 " ' Forsooth, sir,' quoth he, ' I am an old man ; I 
 think that Tenterten steeple is the cause of Goodwin's 
 sands. For I am an old man, sir,' quoth he, ' I may 
 remember the building of Tenterten steeple, and I 
 may remember when there was no steeple at all there ; 
 and before that Tenterten or Totterden steeple was 
 in building, there was no manner of talking of any
 
 198 ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS. 
 
 flats or stands that stopped up the haven, and there- 
 fore I think that Tenterten steeple is the cause of 
 the decay and destroying of Sandwich haven.' "* 
 Thus far the bishop. 
 
 The prolix pertinacity with which this old aged 
 man adheres to the opinion that he had formed, 
 without any intelligible reason, is characteristic of 
 an English peasant ; but however absurd his mode of 
 judging may be, and however confused and incon- 
 gruous his ideas, his species of absurdity surely bears 
 no resemblance to an Hibernian blunder. We cannot 
 even suspect it to be possible that a man of this slow, 
 circumspect character could be in any danger of 
 making an Irish bull ; and we congratulate the 
 English peasantry and populace, as a body, upon 
 their possessing that temper which 
 
 " Wisely rests content with sober sense, 
 Nor makes to dangerous wit a vain pretence." 
 
 Even the slang of English pickpockets and coiners 
 is, as we may see in Colquhoun's View of the Metro- 
 polis, free from all seducing mixture of wit and 
 humour. What Englishman would ever have thought 
 of calling persons in the pillory the babes in the wood ? 
 This is a common cant phrase amongst Dublin repro- 
 
 * This ancient old man, we fear, was more knave than fool. 
 History informs us, that the bishop of Rochester had directed the 
 revenue, appropriated for keeping Goodwin harbour in repair, to 
 the purpose of building a steeple. Vide Fuller's Worthies of 
 England, page 65.
 
 ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS. 199 
 
 bates. Undoubtedly such phrases tend to lessen the 
 power of shame and the effect of punishment, and a 
 witty rogue will lead numbers to the gallows. English 
 morality is not in so much danger as Irish manners 
 must be from these humorous talents in their knights 
 of industry. If, nevertheless, there be frequent exe- 
 cutions for capital crimes in England, we must ac- 
 count for this in the words of the old lord chief justice 
 Fortescue " More men," says his lordship, " are 
 hanged in Englonde in one year than in Fraunce in 
 seven, because the English have better hartes ; the 
 Scotchmenne likewise never dare rob, but only commit 
 larcenies." At all events, the phlegmatic temper of 
 Englonde secures her from making bulls. The pro- 
 pensity to this species of blunder exists in minds of 
 a totally different cast ; in those who are quick and 
 enthusiastic, who are confounded by the rapidity and 
 force with which undisciplined multitudes of ideas 
 crowd for utterance. Persons of such intellectual 
 characters are apt to make elisions in speaking, which 
 they trust the capacities of their audience will supply : 
 passing rapidly over a long chain of thought, they 
 sometimes forget the intermediate links, and no one 
 but those of equally rapid habits can follow them 
 successfully. 
 
 We hope that the evidence of the Dublin shoe- 
 black has, in some degree, tended to prove our minor, 
 that the Irish are disposed to use figurative lan- 
 guage : we shall not, however, rest our cause on a 
 single evidence, however respectable ; but before we 
 summon our other witnesses, we beg to relieve the
 
 200 ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS. 
 
 reader's attention, which must have been fatigued 
 by such a chapter of criticism. They shall now 
 have the tale of a mendicant. A specimen of city 
 rhetoric is given in the shoeblack ; the country men- 
 dicant's eloquence is of a totally different species. 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 THE HIBERNIAN MENDICANT. 
 
 PERHAPS the reader may wish to see as M ell as hear 
 the petitioner. At first view you might have taken 
 him for a Spaniard. He was tall ; and if he had 
 been a gentleman, you would have said that there 
 was an air of dignity in his figure. He seemed 
 very old, yet he appeared more worn by sorrow than 
 by time. Leaning upon a thick oaken stick as he 
 took off his hat to ask for alms, his white hair was 
 blown by the wind. 
 
 " Health and long life to you ! " said he. " Give 
 an old man something to help to bury him. He is 
 past his labour, and cannot trouble this world long 
 any way." 
 
 He held his hat towards us, with nothing impor- 
 tunate in his manner, but rather with a look of 
 confidence in us, mixed with habitual resignation. 
 His thanks were : " Heaven bless you ! Long life
 
 ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS. 201 
 
 and success to you ! to you and yours ! and may you 
 never want a friend, as I do." 
 
 The last words were spoken low. He laid his 
 hand upon his heart as he bowed to us, and M r alked 
 slowly away. We called him back; and upon our 
 questioning him farther, he gave the following ac- 
 co\mt of himself: 
 
 " I was bred and born but no matter where such 
 a one as I Avas bred and born, no more than where I 
 may die and be buried. /, that have neither son, 
 nor daughter, nor kin, nor friend, on the wide earth, 
 to mourn over my grave when I am laid in it, as I 
 soon must. Well ! when it pleases God to take me, 
 I shall never be missed out of this world, so much as 
 by a dog : and why should I ? having never in my 
 time done good to any but evil which I have lived 
 to repent me of, many's the long day and night, and 
 ever shall whilst I have sense and reason left. In 
 my youthful days God was too good to me : I had 
 friends, and a little home of my own to go to a 
 pretty spot of land for a farm, as you could see, with 
 a snug cabin, and every thing complete, and all to be 
 mine ; for I was the only one my father and mother 
 had, and accordingly was made much of, too much; 
 for I grew headstrong upon it, and high, and thought 
 nothing of any man, and little of any woman, but- 
 one. That one I surely did think of; and well 
 worth thinking of she was. Beauty, they say, is all 
 fancy ; but she was a girl every man might fancy. 
 Never was one more sought after. She was then 
 just in her prime, and full of life and spirits ; but
 
 202 ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS. 
 
 nothing light in her behaviour quite modest yet 
 obliging. She was too good for me to be thinking 
 of, no doubt ; but ' faint heart never won fair lady/ 
 so I made bold to speak to Rose, for that was her 
 name, and after a world of pains, I began to gain 
 upon her good liking, but couldn't get her to say 
 more than that she never seen the man she should 
 fancy so well. This was a great deal from her, for 
 she was coy and proud-like, as she had a good right 
 to be ; and, besides being young, loved her little 
 innocent pleasure, and could not easy be brought to 
 give up her sway. No fault of hers : but all very 
 natural. Well ! I always considered she never would 
 have held out so long, nor have been so stiff with 
 me, had it not been for an old aunt Honour of hers 
 God rest her soul ! One should not be talking ill 
 of the dead ; but she was more out of my way than 
 enough ; yet the cratur had no malice in her against 
 me, only meaning her child's good, as she called it, 
 but mistook it, and thought to make Rose happy by 
 some greater match than me, counting her fondness 
 for me, which she could not but see something of, 
 childishness, that she would soon be broke of. Now 
 there was a party of English soldiers quartered in 
 our town, and there was a sergeant amongst them 
 that had money, and a pretty place, as they said, in 
 his own country. He courted Rose, and the aunt 
 favoured him. He and I could never relish one 
 another at all. He was a handsome portly man, but 
 very proud, and looked upon me as dirt under his 
 feet, because I was an Irishman ; and at every word
 
 ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS. 203 
 
 would say, ' That's an Irish bull!' or ' Do you 
 hear Paddy's brogue ? ' at which his fellow-soldiers, 
 being all English, would look greatly delighted. 
 Now all this I could have taken in good part from 
 any but him, for I was not an ill-humoured fellow ; 
 but there was a spite in him I plainly saw against 
 me, and I could not, nor would not take a word from 
 him against me or my country, especially when Rose 
 was by, who did not like me the worse for having a 
 proper spirit. She little thought what would come 
 of it. Whilst all this was going on, her aunt Honour 
 found to object against me, that I was wild, and 
 given to drink ; both which charges were false and 
 malicious, and I knew could come from none other 
 than the sergeant, which enraged me the more 
 against him for speaking so mean behind my back. 
 Now I knew, that though the sergeant did not drink 
 spirits, he drank plenty of beer. Rose took it, how- 
 ever, to heart, and talked very serious upon it, 
 observing she could never think to marry a man 
 given to drink, and that the sergeant was remark- 
 ably sober and staid, therefore most like, as her aunt 
 Honour said, to make a good husband. The words 
 went straight to my heart, along with Rose's look. 
 I said not a word, but went out, resolving, before I 
 slept, to take an oath against spirits of all sorts for 
 Rose's sweet sake. That evening I fell in with some 
 boys of the neighbours, who would have had me 
 along with them, but I dented myself and them ; 
 and all I would taste was one parting glass, and 
 then made my vow in the presence of the priest,
 
 204 ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS. 
 
 forswearing spirits for two years. Then I went 
 straight to her house to tell her what I had done, 
 not being sensible that I was that same time a little 
 elevated with the parting glass I had taken. The 
 first thing I noticed on going into the room was the 
 man I least wished to see there, and least looked for 
 at this minute : he was in high talk with the aunt, 
 and Rose sitting on the other side of him, no way 
 strange towards him, as I fancied ; but that was 
 only fancy, and effect of the liquor I had drunk, 
 which made me see things wrong. I went up, and 
 put my head between them, asking Rose, did she 
 know what I had been about? 
 
 " ' Yes ; too well ! ' said she, drawing back from 
 my breath. And the aunt looked at her, and she at 
 the aunt, and the sergeant stopped his nose, saying 
 he had not been long enough in Ireland to love the 
 smell of whiskey. I observed, that was an uncivil 
 remark in the present company, and added, that I 
 had not taken a drop that night, but one glass. At 
 which he sneered, and said that was a bull and a 
 blunder, but no wonder, as I was an Irishman. I 
 replied in defence of myself and country. We went 
 on from one smart word to another ; and some of his 
 soldiermen being of the company, he had the laugh 
 against me still. I was vexed to see Rose bear so 
 well what I could not bear myself. And the talk 
 grew higher and higher ; and from talking of blun- 
 ders and such trifles, we got, I cannot myself tell 
 you how, on to great party matters, and politics, and 
 religion. And I was a catholic, and he a protestant;
 
 ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS. 205 
 
 and there he had the thing still against me. The 
 company seeing matters not agreeable, dropped off 
 till none were left but the sergeant, and the aunt, 
 and Rose, and myself. The aunt gave me a hint to 
 part, but I would not take it ; for I could not bear 
 to go away worsted, and borne down as it were by 
 the English faction, and Rose by to judge. The 
 aunt was called out by one who wanted her to go 
 to a funeral next day : the Englishman then let fall 
 something about our Irish howl, and savages, which 
 Rose herself said was uncivil, she being an Irish 
 woman, which he, thinking only of making game on 
 me, had forgot. I knocked him down, telling him 
 that it was he that was the savage to affront a lady. 
 As he got up he said that he'd have the law of me, 
 if any law was to be had in Ireland. 
 
 " ' The law ! ' said I, ' and you a soldier ! ' 
 
 " ' Do you mean to call me coward ? ' said he. 
 ' This is what an English soldier must not bear.' 
 With that he snatches at his arms that were beside 
 him, asking me again, did I mean to call an English- 
 man coward ? 
 
 " ' Tell me first,' said I, ' did you mean to call us 
 Irish savages ? ' 
 
 " That's no answer to my question,' says he, ' or 
 only an Irish answer.' 
 
 " ' It is not the worse for that, may be/ says I, 
 very coolly, despising the man now, and just took 
 up a knife, that was on the table, to cut off a button 
 that was hanging at my knee. As I was opening of 
 the knife he asks me, was I going to stab at him
 
 206 ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS. 
 
 with my Irish knife, and directly fixes a bayonet at 
 me ; on which I seizes a musket and bayonet one of 
 his men had left, telling him I knew the use of it as 
 well as he or any Englishman, and better ; for that 
 I should never have gone, as he did, to charge it 
 against an unarmed man. 
 
 " ' You had your knife,' said he, drawing back. 
 
 " ' If I had, it was not thinking of you," said I, 
 throwing the knife away. ' See ! I'm armed like 
 yourself now : fight me like a man and a soldier, if 
 you dare/ says I. 
 
 " ' Fight me, if you dare/ says he. 
 
 " Rose calls to me to stop; but we were both out of 
 ourselves at the minute. We thrust at each other 
 he missed me I hit him. Rose ran in between us 
 to get the musket from my hand : it was loaded, and 
 went off in the struggle, and the ball lodged in her 
 body. She fell ! and what happened next I cannot 
 tell, for the sight left my eyes, and all sense forsook 
 me. When I came to myself the house was full of 
 people, going to and fro, some whispering, some 
 crying ; and, till the words reached my ears, ' Is 
 she quite dead ? ' I could not understand where I 
 was, or what had happened. I wished to forget 
 again, but could not. The whole truth came upon 
 me, and yet I could not shed a tear ! but just pushed 
 my way through the crowd into the inner room, and 
 up to the side of the bed. There she lay stretched, 
 almost a corpse quite still ! Her sweet eyes closed, 
 and no colour in her cheeks, that had been so rosy ! 
 I took hold of one of her hands, that hung down,
 
 ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS. 207 
 
 and she then opens her eyes, and knew me directly, 
 and smiles upon me, and says, ' It was no fault of 
 yours : take notice, all of you, it was no fault of his 
 if I die ; but thai I won't do for his sake, if I can 
 help it ! ' that was the word she spoke. I think- 
 ing, from her speaking so strong, that she was not 
 badly hurt, knelt down to whisper her, that if my 
 breath did smell of spirits, it was the parting glass 
 I had tasted before making the vow I had done 
 against drink for her sake ; and that there was 
 nothing I would not do for her, if it would please 
 God to spare her to me. She just pressed my hand, 
 to show me she was sensible. The priest came in, 
 and they forced our hands asunder, and carried me 
 away out of the room. Presently there was a great 
 cry, and I knew all was over." 
 
 Here the old man's voice failed, and he turned his 
 face from us. When he had somewhat recovered 
 himself, to change the course of his thoughts, we 
 asked whether he were prosecuted for his assault on 
 the English sergeant, and what became of him ? 
 
 " Oh ! to do him justice, as one should do to 
 every one," said the old man, " he behaved very 
 handsome to me when I was brought to trial ; and 
 told the whole truth, only blamed himself more than 
 I would have done, and said it was all his fault for 
 laughing at me and my nation more than a man 
 could bear, situated as I was. They acquitted me 
 through his means. We shook hands, and he hoped 
 all would go right with me, he said; but nothing 
 ever went right with me after. I took little note
 
 208 ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS. 
 
 ever after of worldly matters : all belonging to me 
 went to rack and ruin. The hand of God was upon 
 me : I could not help myself, nor settle mind or 
 body to any thing. I heard them say sometimes I 
 was a little touched in my head : however that might 
 be I cannot say. But at the last I found it was as 
 good for me to give all that was left to my friends, 
 who were better able to manage, and more eager for 
 it than I ; and fancying a roving life would agree with 
 me best, I quitted the place, taking nothing with me, 
 but resolved to walk the world, and jiist trust to the 
 charity of good Christians, or die, as it should please 
 God. How I have lived so long He only knows, and 
 his will be done." 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 IRISH WIT AND ELOQUENCE. 
 
 " WILD wit, invention ever new," appear in high 
 perfection amongst even the youngest inhabitants of 
 an Irish cottage. The word wit, amongst the lower 
 classes of Ireland, means not only quickness of re- 
 partee, but cleverness in action ; it implies invention 
 and address, with no slight mixture of cunning ; all 
 which is expressed in their dialect by the single 
 word 'cuteness (acuteness). Examples will give a
 
 ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS. 209 
 
 better notion of this than can be conveyed by any 
 definition. 
 
 An Irish boy (a 'cute lad) saw a train of his com- 
 panions leading their cars, loaded with kishes* of 
 turf, coming towards his father's cabin; his father 
 had no turf, and the question was how some should 
 be obtained. To beg he was ashamed ; to dig he 
 was unwilling but his head went to work directly. 
 He took up a turf which had fallen from one of the 
 cars the preceding day, and stuck it on the top of a 
 pole near the cabin. When the cars were passing, 
 he appeared throwing turf at the mark. " Boys ! " 
 cried he, " which of ye will hit ? " Each leader of 
 the car, as he passed, could not forbear to fling a 
 turf at the mark; the turf fell at the foot of the 
 pole, and when all the cars had passed, there was a 
 heap left sufficient to reward the ingenuity of our 
 little Spartan. 
 
 The same 'cuteness which appears in youth conti- 
 nues and improves in old age. When general V 
 
 was quartered in a small town in Ireland, he and his 
 lady were regularly besieged, whenever they got 
 into their carriage, by an old beggar-woman, who 
 kept her post at the door, assailing them daily with 
 fresh importunities and fresh tales of distress. At 
 last the lady's charity, and the general's patience, 
 were nearly exhausted, but their petitioner's wit 
 was still in its pristine vigour. One morning, at 
 
 * Baskets. 
 
 F 1
 
 210 ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS. 
 
 the accustomed hour, when the lady was getting 
 into her carriage, the old woman began " Agh ! 
 my lady; success to your ladyship, and success to 
 your honour's honour, this morning, of all days in 
 the year ; for sure didn't I dream last night that 
 her ladyship gave me a pound of tea, and that your 
 honour gave me a pound of tobacco ? " 
 
 " But, my good woman," said the general, " do 
 not you know that dreams always go by the rule of 
 contrary ? " 
 
 " Do they so, plase your honour ? " rejoined the 
 old woman. " Then it must be your honour that 
 will give me the tea, and her ladyship that will give 
 me the tobacco ? " 
 
 The general being of Sterne's opinion, that a 
 bon-mot is always worth more than a pinch of 
 snuff, gave the ingenious dreamer the value of her 
 dream. 
 
 Innumerable instances might be quoted of the 
 Hibernian genius, not merely for repartee, but for 
 what the Italians call pasquinade. We shall cite 
 only one, which is already so well known in Ireland, 
 that we cannot be found guilty of publishing a libel. 
 Over the ostentatious front of a nobleman's house in 
 Dublin, the owner had this motto cut in stone : 
 
 " Otium cum dignitate. Leisure with dignity." 
 
 In process of time his lordship changed his resi- 
 dence; or, since we must descend to plebeian Ian-
 
 ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS. 211 
 
 guage, was committed to Newgate, and immediately 
 there appeared over the front of his apartment his 
 chosen motto, as large as the life, in white chalk, 
 
 " Otium cum dignitate." 
 
 Mixed with keen satire, the Irish often show a 
 sort of cool good sense and dry humour, which gives 
 not only effect, but value to their impromptus. Of 
 this class is the observation made by the Irish hack- 
 ney coachman, upon seeing a man of the ton driving 
 four-in-hand down Bond-street. 
 
 " That fellow," said our observer, " looks like a 
 coachman, but drives like a gentleman." 
 
 As an instance of humour mixed with sophistry, 
 we beg the reader to recollect the popular story of 
 the Irishman who was run over by a troop of horse, 
 and miraculously escaped unhurt. 
 
 "Down upon your knees and thank God, you 
 reprobate," said one of the spectators. 
 
 " Thank God ! for what ? Is it for letting a troop 
 of horse run over me ? " 
 
 In this speech there is the same sort of humour 
 and sophistry that appears in the Irishman's cele- 
 brated question : " What has posterity done for me, 
 that I should do so much for posterity ? " 
 
 The Irish nation, from the highest to the lowest, 
 in daily conversation about the ordinary affairs of 
 life, employ a superfluity of wit and metaphor which 
 would be astonishing and unintelligible to a majority 
 of the respectable body of English yeomen. Even 
 p2
 
 212 ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS. 
 
 the cutters of turf and drawers of whiskey are 
 orators ; even the cottiers and gossoons speak in trope 
 and figure. Ask an Irish gossoon to go early in the 
 morning, on an errand, and he answers, 
 
 " I'll be off at the flight of night." 
 
 If an Irish cottager would express to his landlord 
 that he wishes for a long lease of his land, he says, 
 
 " I would be proud to live on your honour's land 
 as long as grass grows or water runs." 
 
 One of our English poets has nearly the same 
 idea : 
 
 " As long as streams in silver mazes run, 
 
 Or spring with annual green renews the grove." 
 
 Without the advantages of a classical education, 
 the lower Irish sometimes make similes that bear a 
 near resemblance to those of the admired poets of 
 antiquity. A loyalist, during the late rebellion, was 
 describing to us the number of the rebels who had 
 gathered on one spot, and were dispersed by the 
 king's army ; rallied, and were again put to flight. 
 
 " They were," said he, " like swarms of flies on a 
 summer's day, that you brush away with your hand, 
 and still they will be returning." 
 
 There is a simile of Homer's which, literally trans- 
 lated, runs thus : " As the numerous troops of flies 
 about a shepherd's cottage in the spring, when the 
 milk moistens the pails, such numbers of Greeks 
 stood in the field against the Trojans." Lord Kames 
 observes, that it is false taste to condemn such com-
 
 ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS. 213 
 
 parisons for the lowness of the images introduced. 
 In fact, great objects cannot be degraded by com- 
 parison with small ones in these similes, because the 
 only point of resemblance is number ; the mind in- 
 stantly perceives this, and therefore requires no other 
 species of similitude. 
 
 When we attempt to judge of the genius of the 
 lower classes of the people, we must take care that 
 we are not under the influence of any prejudice of an 
 aristocratic or literary nature. But this is no easy 
 effort of liberty. 
 
 " Agh ! Dublin, sweet J&sus be wid you ! " ex- 
 claimed a poor Irishman, as he stood on the deck of 
 a vessel, which was carrying him out of the bay of 
 Dublin. The pathos of this poor fellow will not 
 probably affect delicate sensibility, because he says 
 rvid instead of with, and Jasus instead of Jesus. 
 Adam Smith is certainly right in his theory, that 
 the sufferings of those in exalted stations have gene- 
 rally most power to command our sympathy. The 
 very same sentiment of sorrow at leaving his country, 
 which was expressed so awkwardly by the poor Irish- 
 man, appears, to every reader of taste, exquisitely 
 pathetic from the lips of Mary queen of Scots. 
 
 " Farewell, France ! Farewell, beloved country ! 
 which I shall never more behold ! "* 
 
 In anger as well as in sorrow the Irishman is elo- 
 quent. A gentleman who was lately riding through 
 the county of , in Ireland, to canvass, called to 
 
 " Vide Robertson's History of Scotland.
 
 214 ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS. 
 
 ask a vote from a poor man, who was planting willows 
 in a little garden by the road side. 
 
 " You have a vote, my good sir, I am told," said 
 the candidate, in an insinuating tone. 
 
 The poor man struck the willow which he had in 
 his hand into the ground, and with a deliberate pace 
 came towards the candidate to parley with him. 
 
 " Please your honour," said he gravely, " I have 
 a vote, and I have not a vote." 
 
 " How can that be ? " 
 
 " I will tell you, sir," said he, leaning, or rather 
 lying down slowly upon the back of the ditch facing 
 the road, so that the gentleman, who was on horse- 
 back, could see only his head and arms. 
 
 " Sir," said he, " out of this little garden, with my 
 five acres of land and my own labour, I once had 
 a freehold ; but I have been robbed of my freehold ; 
 and who do you think has robbed me? why, that 
 man ! " pointing to his landlord's steward, who stood 
 beside the candidate. " With my own hands I 
 sowed my own ground with oats, and a fine crop I 
 expected but I never reaped that crop: not a 
 bushel, no, nor half a bushel, did I ever see ; for into 
 my little place comes this man, with I don't know 
 how many more, with their shovels and their barrows, 
 and their horses and their cars, and to work they 
 fell, and they ran a road straight through the best 
 part of my land, turning all to heaps of rubbish, and 
 a bad road it was, and a bad time of year to make it ! 
 But where was / when he did this ? not where I am 
 now," said the orator, raising himself up and stand-
 
 ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS. 215 
 
 ing firm; "not as you see me now, but lying on my 
 back in my bed in a fever. When T got up I was 
 not able to make my rent out of my land. Besides 
 myself, I had my five children to support. I sold my 
 clothes, and have never been able to buy any since 
 but such as a recruit could sell, who was in haste to 
 get into regimentals such clothes as these," said 
 he, looking down at his black rags. " Soon I had 
 nothing to eat : but that's not all. I am a weaver, 
 sir : for my rent they seized my two looms ; then I 
 had nothing to do. But of all this I do not complain. 
 There was an election some time ago in this county, 
 and a man rode up to me in this garden as you do 
 now, and asked me for my vote, but I refused him, 
 for I was steady to my landlord. The gentleman 
 observed I was a poor man, and asked if I wanted 
 for nothing ? but all did not signify ; so he rode on 
 gently, and at the corner of the road, within view of 
 my garden, I saw him drop a purse, and I knew, by 
 his looking at me, it was on purpose for me to pick 
 it up. After a while he came back, thinking, to be 
 sure, I had taken up the purse, and had changed my 
 mind, but he found his purse where he left it. My 
 landlord knew all this, and he promised to see 
 justice done me, but he forgot. Then, as for the 
 candidate's lady, before the election nothing was too 
 fair-speaking for me ; but afterward, in my distress, 
 when I applied to her to get me a loom, which she 
 could have had from the Linen Board by only asking 
 for it, her answer to me was, ' I don't know that I 
 shall ever want a vote again in the county.'
 
 216 ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS. 
 
 " Now, sir," continued he, " when justice is done 
 to me (and no sooner), I shall be glad to assist my 
 landlord or his friend. I know who you are, sir, 
 very well : you bear a good character : success to 
 you ! but I have no vote to give to you or any man." 
 
 "If I were to attempt to make you any amends 
 for what you have suffered," replied the candidate, 
 " I should do you an injury ; it would be said that I 
 had bribed you ; but I will repeat your story where 
 it will meet with attention. I cannot, however, tell 
 it so well as you have told it." 
 
 " No, sir," was his answer, " for you cannot feel it 
 as I do." 
 
 This is almost in terms the conclusion of Pope's 
 epistle from Eloisa to Abelard : 
 
 " He best can paint them who shall feel them most." 
 
 In objurgation and pathetic remonstrancing elo- 
 quence, the females of the lower class in Ireland are 
 not inferior to the men. A thin tall \voman wrapped 
 in a long cloak, the hood of which was drawn over 
 her head, and shaded her pale face, came to a gentle- 
 man to complain of the cruelty of her landlord. 
 
 " He is the most hard-hearted man alive, so he is, 
 sir," said she ; " he has just seized all I have, which, 
 God knows, is little enough ! and has driven my cow 
 to pound, the only cow I have, and only dependance 
 I have for a drop of milk to drink ; and the cow 
 itself too standing there starving in the pound, for 
 not a wisp of hay would he give to cow or Christian
 
 ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS. 217 
 
 to save their lives, if it was ever so ! And the rent 
 for which he is driving me, please your honour, has 
 not been due but one week : a hard master he is ; but 
 these middle men are all so, one and all. Oh ! if it 
 had been but my lot to be a tenant to a gentleman born, 
 like your honour, who is the poor man's friend, and 
 the orphan's, and the widow's the friend of them 
 that have none other. Long life to you ! and long 
 may you live to reign over us ! Would you but speak 
 three words to my landlord, to let my cow out of 
 pound, and give me a fortnight's time, that I might 
 see and fatten her to sell against the fair, I could pay 
 him then all honestly, and not be racked entirely, 
 and he would be ashamed to refuse your honour, and 
 afraid to disoblige the like of you, or get your ill-will. 
 May the blessing of Heaven be upon you, if you'll 
 just send and speak to him three words for the poor 
 woman and widow, that has none other to speak for 
 her in the wide world." 
 
 Moved by this lamentable story, the effect of which 
 the woman's whole miserable appearance corroborated 
 and heightened, the gentleman sent immediately for 
 her hard-hearted landlord. The landlord appeared ; 
 not a gentleman, not a rich man, as the term landlord 
 might denote, but a stout, square, stubbed, thick- 
 limbed, gray-eyed man, who seemed to have come 
 smoking hot from hard labour. The gentleman re- 
 peated the charge made against him by the poor 
 widow, and mildly remonstrated on his cruelty : the. 
 man heard all that was said with a calm but unmoved 
 countenance.
 
 218 ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS. 
 
 " And now have you done ?" said he, turning to 
 the woman, you had recommenced her lamentations, 
 " Look at her standing there, sir. It's easy for her 
 to put on her long cloak, and to tell her long story, 
 and to make her poor mouth to your honour ; but if 
 you are willing to hear, I'll tell you what she is, and 
 what I am. She is one that has none but herself in 
 this world to provide for ; she is one that is able to 
 afford herself a glass of whiskey when she pleases, 
 and she pleases it often ; she is one that never denies 
 herself the bit of staggering bob* when in season; 
 she is one that has a snug house well thatched to 
 live in all the year round, and nothing to do or 
 nothing that she does; and this is the way of her 
 life, and this is what she is. And what am I ? I 
 am the father of eight children, and I have a wife 
 and myself to provide for. I am a man that is at 
 hard labour of one kind or another from sunrise to 
 sunset. The straw that thatched the house she lives 
 in I brought two miles on my back ; the walls of the 
 house she lives in I built with my own hands ; I did 
 the same by five other houses, and they are all sound 
 and dry, and good to live in, summer or winter. I 
 set them for rent to put bread into my children's 
 mouth, and after all I cannot get it ! And to sup- 
 port my eight children, and my wife, and myself, 
 what have I in this world," cried he, striding 
 suddenly with colossal firmness upon his sturdy legs, 
 and raising to heaven arms which looked like fore- 
 
 " Slink calf.
 
 E8SAY ON IRISH BULLS. 219 
 
 shortenings of the limbs of Hercules; " what have / 
 in this wide world but these four bones ? " * 
 
 No provocation could have worked up a phlegmatic 
 English countryman to this pitch of eloquence. He 
 never suffers his anger to evaporate in idle figures of 
 speech : it is always concentrated in a few words, 
 which he repeats in reply to every argument, per- 
 suasive, or invective, that can be employed to irritate 
 or to assuage his wrath. We recollect having once 
 been present at a scene between an English gentle- 
 man and a churchwarden, whose feelings were griev- 
 ously hurt by the disturbance that had been given 
 to certain bones in levelling a wall which separated 
 the churchyard from the pleasure ground of the lord 
 of the manor. The bones belonged, as the church- 
 warden believed or averred, to his great great grand- 
 mother, though how they were identified it might be 
 difficult to explain to an indifferent judge ; yet we 
 are to suppose that the confirmation of the suspicion 
 was strong and satisfactory to the party concerned. 
 The pious great great grandson's feelings were all in 
 arms, but indignation did not inspire him with a 
 single poetic idea or expression. In his eloquence, 
 indeed, there was the principal requisite, action : in 
 reply to all that could be said, he repeatedly struck 
 his long oak stick perpendicularly upon the floor, and 
 reiterated these words 
 
 " It's death, sir ! death by the law ! It's sacrilege, 
 
 * This was written down a few minutes after it had been 
 spoken.
 
 ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS. 
 
 sir ! sacrilege by act of parliament ! It's death, sir ! 
 death by the law ! and the law I'll have of him, for 
 it's lawful to have the law." 
 
 This was the whole range of his ideas, even when 
 the passions had tumbled them all out of their dormi- 
 tories. 
 
 Innumerable fresh instances of Irish eloquence 
 and wit crowd upon our recollection, but we forbear. 
 The examples we have cited are taken from real 
 life, and given without alteration or embellishment. 
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 
 THE BROGUE. 
 
 HAVING proved by a perfect syllogism that the Irish 
 must blunder, we might rest satisfied with our 
 labours ; but there are minds of so perverse a sort, 
 that they will not yield their understandings to the 
 torturing power of syllogism. 
 
 It may be waste of time to address ourselves to 
 persons of such a cast ; we shall therefore change our 
 ground, and adapt our arguments to the level of 
 vulgar capacities. Much of the comic effect of Irish 
 bulls, or of such speeches as are mistaken for bulls, 
 has depended upon the tone, or brogue, as it is called, 
 with M'hich they are uttered. The first Irish blun-
 
 ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS. 221 
 
 tiers that we hear are made or repeated in this pecu- 
 liar tone, and afterward, from the power of association, 
 whenever we hear the tone we expect the blunder. 
 Now there is little danger that the Irish should be 
 cured of their brogue ; and consequently there is no 
 great reason to apprehend that we should cease to 
 think or call them blunderers. 
 
 Of the powerful effect of any peculiarity of pro- 
 nunciation to prepossess the mind against the speaker, 
 nay even to excite dislike amounting to antipathy, 
 we have an instance attested by an eye-witness, or 
 rather an ear-witness. 
 
 " In the year 1755," says the Rev. James Adams, 
 " I attended a public disputation in a foreign uni- 
 versity, M'hen at least 400 Frenchmen literally hissed 
 a grave and learned English doctor, not by way of 
 insult, but irresistibly provoked by the quaintness of 
 the repetition of sh. The thesis was, the concur- 
 rence of God in actionibus viciosis: the whole hall re- 
 sounded with the hissing cry of sh, and its continual 
 occurrence in actio, actione, viciosa, &c. 
 
 It is curious that Shiboleth should so long continue 
 a criterion among nations ! 
 
 What must have been the degree of irritation that 
 could so far get the better of the politeness of 400 
 Frenchmen as to make them hiss in the days of 
 I'ancien regime ! The dread of being the object of 
 that species of antipathy or ridicule which is excited 
 by unfashionable peculiarity of accent has induced 
 many of the misguided natives of Ireland to affect 
 what they imagine to be the English pronunciation.
 
 222 JESSAY ON IRISH BULLS. 
 
 They are seldom successful in this attempt, for they 
 generally overdo the business. We are told by 
 Theophrastus, that a barbarian, who had taken some 
 pains to attain the true Attic dialect, was discovered 
 to be a foreigner by his speaking the Attic dialect 
 with a greater degree of precision and purity than 
 was usual amongst the Athenians themselves. To 
 avoid the imputation of committing barbarisms, 
 people sometimes run into solecisms, which are yet 
 more ridiculous. Affectation is alw r ays more ridi- 
 culous than ignorance. 
 
 There are Irish ladies, who, ashamed of their 
 country, betray themselves by mincing out their ab- 
 juration, by calling tables teebles, and chairs cheers ! 
 To such renegadoes we prefer the honest quixotism 
 of a modern champion* for the Scottish accent, who, 
 holding asserting that " the broad dialect rises above 
 reproach, scorn, and laughter," enters the lists, as he 
 says of himself, in Tartan dress and armour, and 
 throws down the gauntlet to the most prejudiced 
 antagonist. "How weak is prejudice!" pursues 
 this patriotic enthusiast. " The sight of the High- 
 land kelt, the flowing plaid, the buskined leg, pro- 
 vokes my antagonist to laugh ! Is this dress ridi- 
 culous in the eves of reason and common sense? 
 
 * James Adams, S. R. E. S., author of a book entitled, 
 " The Pronunciation of the English Language vindicated from 
 imputed Anomaly and Caprice ; with an Appendix on the 
 Dialects of Human Speech in all Countries, and an analytical 
 Discussion and Vindication of the Dialect of Scotland."
 
 ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS. 223 
 
 No ; nor is the dialect of speech : both are charac- 
 teristic and national distinctions. 
 
 " The arguments of general vindication," continues 
 he, "rise powerful before my sight, like the Highland 
 bands in full array. A louder strain of apologetic 
 speech swells my words. What if it should rise high 
 as the unconquered summits of Scotia's hills, and call 
 back, with voice sweet as Caledonian song, the days 
 of ancient Scottish heroes ; or attempt the powerful 
 speech of the Latian orator, or his of Greece ! The 
 subject, methinks, would well accord with the attempt: 
 Cupidum, Scotia optima, vires deficiunl. I leave this 
 to the king of songs. Dunbar and Dunkeld, Douglas 
 in Virgilian strains, and later poets, Ramsay, Fer- 
 guson, and Burns, awake from your graves ; you have 
 already immortalized the Scotch dialect in raptured 
 melody ! Lend me your golden target and well- 
 pointed spear, that I may victoriously pursue, to the 
 extremity of South Britain, reproachful ignorance 
 and scorn still lurking there : let impartial candour 
 seize their usurped throne. Great, then, is the birth 
 of this national dialect," &c. 
 
 So far so good. We have some sympathy with the 
 rhapsodist, whose enthusiasm kindles at the names 
 of Allan Ramsay and of Burns; nay, we are willing 
 to hear (with a grain of allowance) that " the manly 
 eloquence of the Scotch bar affords a singular pleasure 
 to the candid English hearer, and gives merit and 
 dignity to the noble speakers, who retain so much of 
 their own dialect and tempered propriety of English 
 sounds, that they may be emphatically termed British
 
 224 ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS. 
 
 orators." But we confess that we lose our patient 
 decorum, and are almost provoked to laughter, when 
 our philological Quixote seriously sets about to prove 
 that Adam and Eve spoke broad Scotch in Paradise. 
 
 How angry has this grave patriot reason to be 
 with his ingenious countryman Beattie,* the cele- 
 brated champion of Truth, who acknowledges that 
 he never could, when a boy or man, look at a certain 
 translation of Ajax's speech into one of the vulgar 
 Scotch dialects without laughing ! 
 
 We shall now with boldness, similar to that of the 
 Scotch champion, try the risible muscles of our 
 English reader; we are not, indeed, inclined to 
 go quite such lengths as he has gone : he insists, 
 that the Scotch dialect ought to be adopted all over 
 England ; we are only going candidly to confess, 
 that we think the Irish, in general, speak better 
 English than is commonly spoken by the natives of 
 England. To limit this proposition so as to make it 
 appear less absurd, we should observe, that we allude 
 to the lower classes of the people in both countries. 
 In some counties in Ireland, a few of the poorest 
 labourers and cottagers do not understand English, 
 they speak only Irish, as in Wales there are vast 
 numbers who speak only Welsh; but amongst those 
 who speak English we find fewer vulgarisms than 
 amongst the same rank of persons in England. The 
 English which they speak is chiefly such as has been 
 traditional in their families from the time of the 
 
 * Vide Illustrations on Sublimity, in his Essays.
 
 ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS. 225 
 
 early settlers in the island. During the reign of 
 Elizabeth and the reign of Shakspeare, numbers of 
 English migrated to Ireland ; and whoever attends 
 to the phraseology of the lower Irish may, at this 
 day, hear many of the phrases and expressions used 
 by Shakspeare. Their vocabulary has been preserved 
 nearly in its pristine purity since that time, because 
 they have not had intercourse with those counties in 
 England which have made for themselves a jargon 
 unlike to any language under heaven. The Irish 
 brogue is a great and shameful defect, but it does 
 not render the English language absolutely unintel- 
 ligible. There are but a few variations of the brogue, 
 such as the long and the short, the Thady brogue 
 and Paddy brogue, which differ much in tone, and 
 but little in phraseology ; but in England, almost all 
 of our fifty-two counties have peculiar vulgarisms, 
 dialects, and brogues, unintelligible to their neigh- 
 bours. Herodotus tells us that some of the nations 
 of Greece, though they used the same language, 
 spoke it so differently, that they could not under- 
 stand each other's conversation. This is literally 
 the case at present between the provincial inhabit- 
 ants of remote parts of England. Indeed the lan- 
 guage peculiar to the metropolis, or the cockney 
 dialect, is proverbially ridiculous. The Londoners, 
 who look down with contempt upon all that have not 
 been bred and born within the sound of Bow, talk 
 with unconscious absurdity of weal and winegar, and 
 vine and vindors, and idears, and ask you oiv you do ? 
 Q 1
 
 226 ESSAY ON IRISH BUJLLS. 
 
 and 'ave ye bin taking the Aair in 'yde park ? and 'a* 
 your 'orse 'ad any Aoats, &c. ? aspirating always 
 where they should not, and never aspirating where 
 they should. 
 
 The Zummerzetzheer dialect, full of broad oos and 
 eternal zeds, supplies never-failing laughter when 
 brought upon the stage. Even a cockney audience 
 relishes the broad pronunciation of John Moody, in 
 the Journey to London, or of Sim in Wild Oats. 
 
 The cant of Suffolk, the vulgarisms of Shropshire, 
 the uncouth phraseology of the three ridings of York- 
 shire, amaze and bewilder foreigners, who perhaps 
 imagine that they do not understand English, when 
 they are in company with those who cannot speak it. 
 The patois of Languedoc and Champagne, such as 
 " Mein Jis sest at bai via," Mon fils c'est un beau 
 veau, exercises, it is true, the ingenuity of travellers, 
 and renders many scenes of Moliere and Marivaux 
 difficult, if not unintelligible, to those who have 
 never resided in the French provinces; but no 
 French patois is more unintelligible than the follow- 
 ing specimen of Tummas and Meary's Lancashire 
 dialogue : 
 
 Thomas. " Whau, but I startit up to goa to th' 
 tits, on slurr'd deawn to th' lower part o' th' hey- 
 mough, on by th' maskins, lord ! whot dust think ? 
 boh leet hump stridd'n up o' summot ot felt meety 
 heury, on it startit weh meh on its back, deawn th' 
 lower part o' th' mough it jumpt, crost th' leath, 
 eaw't o' th' dur whimmey it took, on into th' wetur-
 
 ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS. 227 
 
 i ng poo, os if th' dule o' hell had driv'n it, on there 
 it threw meh en, or 1 fell off, I connaw tell whether, 
 for th' life o' meh, into the poo." 
 
 Mary. " Whoo-wo, whoo-wo, whoo ! whot, ith 
 neme o' God ! widneh sey ? " 
 
 Thomas. " If it wur naw Owd Nick, he wur th' 
 orderer on't, to be shure * * *. Weh mitch powlering 
 I geet eawt o' th' poo, 'lieve * meh, as to list, I could 
 na tell whether i'r in a sleawm or wak'n, till eh 
 groapt ot meh een ; I crope under a wough and stode 
 like o' gawmblingjt or o parfit neatril, till welly 
 day," &c. 
 
 Let us now listen to a conversation which we hope 
 will not be quite so unintelligible. 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 BATH COACH CONVERSATION. 
 
 IN one of the coaches which travel between Bath 
 and London, an Irish, a Scotch, and an English 
 gentleman happened to be passengers. They were 
 well informed and well-bred, had seen the world, 
 
 The glossary to the Lancashire dialect informs us, that 
 'lieve me comes from beleemy, believe me ; from belamy, my 
 good friend, old French. 
 
 + Gawmbling (Anglo Saxon gawmless), stupid. 
 Q2
 
 228 ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS. 
 
 had lived in good company, and were consequently 
 superior to local and national prejudice. As their 
 conversation was illustrative of our subject, we shall 
 make no apology for relating it. We pass the usual 
 preliminary compliments, and the observations upon 
 the M r eather and the roads. The Irish gentleman 
 first started a more interesting subject the Union ; 
 its probable advantages and disadvantages were fully 
 discussed, and, at last, the Irishman said, " What- 
 ever our political opinions may be, there is one wish 
 in which we shall all agree, that the Union may 
 make us better acquainted with one another." 
 
 " It is surprising," said the Englishman, " how 
 ignorant we English in general are of Ireland : to be 
 sure we do not now, as in the times of Bacon and 
 Spenser, believe that wild Irishmen have Avings; nor 
 do we all of us give credit to Mr. Twiss's assertion, 
 that if you look at an Irish lady, she answers, ' port, 
 if you please' " 
 
 Scotchman. " That traveller seems to be almost 
 as liberal as he who defined oats food for horses in 
 England, and for men in Scotland : such illiberal 
 notions die away of themselves." 
 
 Irishman. " Or they are contradicted by more 
 liberal travellers. I am sure my country has great 
 obligations to the gallant English and Scotch mili- 
 tary, not only for so readily assisting to defend and 
 quiet us, but for spreading in England a juster 
 notion of Ireland. Within these few months, I sup- 
 pose, more real knowledge of the state and manners
 
 ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS. 229 
 
 of that kingdom has been diffused in England by 
 their means, than had been obtained during a whole 
 century." 
 
 Scotchman. " Indeed, I do not recollect having 
 read any author of note who has given me a notion 
 of Ireland since Spenser and Davies, except Arthur 
 Young." 
 
 Englishman. " What little knowledge I have of 
 Ireland has been drawn more from observation than 
 from books. I remember when I first went over 
 there, I did not expect to see twenty trees in the 
 whole island : I imagined that I should have nothing 
 to drink but whiskey, that I should have nothing to 
 eat but potatoes, that I should sleep in mud-walled 
 cabins; that I should, when awake, hear nothing 
 but the Irish howl, the Irish brogue, Irish answers, 
 and Irish bulls ; and that if I smiled at any of these 
 things, a hundred pistols would fly from their 
 holsters to give or demand satisfaction. But expe- 
 rience taught me better things : I found that the 
 stories I had heard were tales of other times. Their 
 hospitality, indeed, continues to this day." 
 
 Irishman. -" It does, I believe ; but of later 
 days, as we have been honoured with the visits of 
 a greater number of foreigners, our hospitality has 
 become less extravagant." 
 
 Englishman. " Not less agreeable : Irish hospi- 
 tality, I speak from experience, does not now consist 
 merely in pushing about the bottle ; the Irish are 
 convivial, but their conviviality is seasoned with wit 
 and humour ; they have plenty of good conversation
 
 230 
 
 ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS. 
 
 as well as good cheer for their guests ; and they not 
 only have wit themselves, but they love it in others ; 
 they can take as well as give a joke. I never lived 
 with a more good-humoured, generous, open-hearted 
 people than the Irish." 
 
 Irishman. " I wish Englishmen, in general, 
 were half as partial to poor Ireland as you are, 
 sir." 
 
 Englishman. " Or rather you wish that they 
 knew the country as well, and then they would do 
 it as much justice." 
 
 Irishman. " You do it something more than 
 justice, I fear. There are little peculiarities in my 
 countrymen which will long be justly the subject of 
 ridicule in England." 
 
 Scotchman. " Not among well-bred and well- 
 informed people : those who have seen or read of 
 great varieties of customs and manners are never apt 
 to laugh at all that may differ from their own. As 
 the sensible author of the Government of the Tongue 
 says, ' Half-witted people are always the bitterest 
 revilers.' " 
 
 Irishman. " You are very indulgent, gentlemen ; 
 but, in spite of all your politeness, you must allow, 
 or, at least, I must confess, that there are little de- 
 fects in the Irish government of the tongue at which 
 even rvhole-\vitted people must laugh." 
 
 Scotchman. " The well-educated people in all 
 countries, I believe, escape the particular accent, 
 and avoid the idiom, that are characteristic of the 
 vulgar."
 
 ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS. 231 
 
 Irishman. " But even when we escape Irish 
 brogue, we cannot escape Irish bulls." 
 
 Englishman. " You need not say Irish bulls 
 with such emphasis ; for bulls are not peculiar to 
 Ireland. I have been informed by a person of un- 
 questionable authority, that there is a town in Ger- 
 many, Hirschau, in the Upper Palatinate, where the 
 inhabitants are famous for making bulls." 
 
 Irishman. " I am truly glad to hear we have 
 companions in disgrace. Numbers certainly lessen 
 the effect of ridicule as well as of shame : but, after 
 all, the Irish idiom is peculiarly unfortunate, for it 
 leads perpetually to blunder." 
 
 Scotchman. " I have heard the same remarked 
 of the Hebrew. I am told that the Hebrew and 
 Irish idiom are much alike." 
 
 Irishman (latighing) " That is a great comfort 
 to us, certainly, particularly to those amongst us who 
 are fond of tracing our origin up to the remotest an- 
 tiquity; but still there are many who would willingly 
 give up the honour of this high alliance to avoid its 
 inconveniences ; for my own part, if I could ensure 
 myself and my countrymen from all future danger 
 of making bulls and blunders, I would this instant 
 give up all Hebrew roots; and even the Ogham 
 character itself I would renounce, ' to make assurance 
 doubly sure.'" 
 
 Englishman. " ' To make assurance doubly sure.' 
 Now there is an example in our great Shakspeare of 
 what I have often observed, that we English allow 
 our poets and ourselves a license of speech that we
 
 232 ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS. 
 
 deny to our Hibernian neighbours. If an Irishman, 
 instead of Shakspeare, had talked of making ' as- 
 surance doubly sure/ we should have asked how that 
 could be. The vulgar in England are too apt to 
 catch at every slip of the tongue made by Irishmen. 
 I remember once being present when an Irish noble- 
 man, of talents and literature, was actually hissed 
 from the hustings at a Middlesex election because in 
 his speech he happened to say, ' We have laid the 
 root to the axe of the tree of liberty,' instead of ' we 
 have laid the axe to the root of the tree/ " 
 
 Scotchman. " A lapsus linguae, that might have 
 been made by the greatest orators, ancient or modern ; 
 by Cicero or Chatham, by Burke, or by ' the fluent 
 Murray/ " 
 
 Englishman " Upon another occasion I have 
 heard that an Irish orator was silenced with ' inex- 
 tinguishable laughter' merely for saying, ' I am sorry 
 to hear my honourable friend stand mute/ " 
 
 Scotchman. " If I am not mistaken, that very 
 same Irish orator made an allusion at which no one 
 could laugh. ' The protection/ said he, ' which 
 Britain affords to Ireland in the day of adversity, is 
 like that which the oak affords to the ignorant coun- 
 tryman, who flies to it for shelter in the storm ; it 
 draws down upon his head the lightning of heaven : ' 
 may be I do not repeat the words exactly, but I 
 could not forget the idea." 
 
 Englishman. " I would with all my heart bear 
 the ridicule of a hundred blunders for the honour of 
 having made such a simile : after all, his saying, ' I
 
 ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS. 233 
 
 am sorry to hear my honourable friend stand mute,' 
 if it be a bull, is justified by Homer ; one of the 
 charms in the cestus of Venus is, 
 
 ' Silence that speaks, and eloquence of eyes.' " 
 
 Scotchman. " Silence that speaks, sir, is, I am 
 afraid, an English, not a Grecian charm. It is not 
 in the Greek ; it is one of those beautiful liberties 
 which Mr. Pope has taken with his original. But 
 silence that speaks can be found in France as well 
 as in England. Voltaire, in his chef-d'oeuvre, his 
 CEdipus, makes Jocasta say, 
 
 ' Tout parle contre nous jusqu'a notre silence.'' "* 
 
 Englishman. "And in our own Milton, Samson 
 Agonistes makes as good, indeed a better, bull ; 
 for he not only makes the mute speak, but speak 
 loud : 
 
 ' The deeds themselves, though mute, spoke loud the doer.' 
 
 And in Paradise Lost we have, to speak in fashion- 
 able language, two famous bulls. Talking of Satan, 
 Milton says, 
 
 ' God and his Son except, 
 Created thing nought valued he nor shunn'd.' 
 
 And speaking of Adam and Eve, and their sons and 
 * "Every thing speaks against us, even our silence."
 
 234 ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS. 
 
 daughters, he confounds them all together in a 
 manner for which any Irishman would have been 
 laughed to scorn : 
 
 ' Adam, the goodliest man of men since born, 
 His sons ; the fairest of her daughters Eve.' 
 
 Yet Addison, who notices these blunders, calls them 
 only little blemishes." 
 
 Scotchman. " He does so ; and he quotes Horace, 
 who tells us we should impute such venial errors to 
 a pardonable inadvertency; and, as I recollect, 
 Addison makes another very just remark, that the 
 ancients, who were actuated by a spirit of candour, 
 not of cavilling, invented a variety of figures of 
 speech, on purpose to palliate little errors of this 
 nature." 
 
 "Really, gentlemen," interrupted the Hibernian, 
 what had sat all this time in silence that spoke his 
 grateful sense of the politeness of his companions, 
 " you will put the finishing stroke to my obligations 
 to you, if you will prove that the ancient figures of 
 speech were invented to palliate Irish blunders." 
 
 Englishman. " No matter for what purpose they 
 were invented ; if we can make so good a use of them 
 we shall be satisfied, especially if you are pleased. I 
 will, however, leave the burthen of the proof upon 
 my friend here, who has detected me already in 
 quoting from Pope's Iliad instead of Homer's. I am 
 sure he will manage the ancient figures of rhetoric 
 better than I should ; however, if I can fight behind 
 his shield I shall not shun the combat."
 
 ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS. 235 
 
 Scotchman " I stand corrected for quoting 
 Greek. Now I will not go to Longinus for my 
 tropes and figures; I have just met with a little 
 book on the subject, which I put into my pocket 
 to-day, intending to finish it on my journey, but I 
 have been better employed." 
 
 He drew from his pocket a book, called " Deino- 
 logy; or the Union of Reason and Elegance." 
 " Look," said he, " look at this long list of tropes 
 and figures ; amongst them we could find apologies 
 for every species of Irish bulls ; but in mercy, I will 
 select, from ' the twenty chief and most moving 
 figures of speech,' only the oxymoron, as it is a 
 favourite with Irish orators. In the oxymoron con- 
 tradictions meet : to reconcile these, Irish ingenuity 
 delights. I will further spare four out of the seven 
 figures of less note : emphasis, cnallage, and the 
 hysteron proteron you must have ; because emphasis 
 graces Irish diction, enallage unbinds it from strict 
 grammatical fetters, and hysteron proteron allows it 
 sometimes to put the cart before the horse. Of the 
 eleven grammatical figures, Ireland delights chiefly 
 in the antimeria, or changing one part of speech for 
 another, and in the ellipsis or defect. Of the re-? 
 maining long list of figures, the Irish are particularly 
 disposed to the epizeuxis, as ' indeed, indeed at all, 
 at all,' and antanaclasis, or double meaning. The 
 tautotes, or repetition of the same thing, is, I think, 
 full as common amongst the English. The hyper- 
 bole and catachresis are so nearly related to a bull, 
 that I shall dwell upon them with pleasure. You
 
 236 ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS. 
 
 must listen to the definition of a catachresis : * A 
 catachresis is the boldest of any trope. Necessity 
 makes it borrow and employ an expression or term 
 contrary to the thing it means to express." 
 
 " Upon my word this is something like a descrip- 
 tion of an Irish bull," interrupted the Hibernian. 
 
 Scotchman. " For instance, it has been said, 
 Equilare in arundine longa, to ride on horseback on 
 a stick. Reason condemns the contradiction, but 
 necessity has allowed it, and use has made it intel- 
 ligible. The same trope is employed in the following 
 metaphorical expression : the seeds of the Gospel 
 have been watered by the blood of the martyrs." 
 
 Englishman. " That does seem an absurdity, I 
 grant ; but you know great orators trample on impos- 
 sibilities." * 
 
 Scotchman. " And great poets get the better of 
 them. You recollect Shakspeare says, 
 
 ' Now bid me run, 
 
 And I will strive with things impossible, 
 Yea, get the better oftfam." 
 
 Englishman. " And Corneille, in the Cid, I 
 believe, makes his hero a compliment upon his having 
 performed impossibilities ' Vos mains seules ont le 
 droit de vaincre un invincible.' " t 
 
 Scotchman. " Ay, that would be a bull in an 
 
 * Lord Chatham. 
 
 t Your hands alone have a right to conquer the unconqitirable.
 
 ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS. &>/ 
 
 Irishman; but it is only an hyperbole in a French- 
 man." 
 
 Irishman. " Indeed this line of Corneille's out 
 hyperboles the hyperbole, considered in any but a 
 prophetic light ; as a prophecy, it exactly foretels 
 the taking of Bonaparte's invincible standard by the 
 glorious forty-second regiment of the British : f Your 
 hands alone have a right to vanquish the invincible.' 
 By-the-bye, the phrase ont le droit cannot, I believe, 
 be literally translated into English ; but the Scotch 
 and Irish, have a right, translates it exactly. But 
 do not let me linterrupt my country's defence, gen- 
 tlemen ; I am heartily glad to find Irish blunderers 
 may shelter themselves in such good company in the 
 ancient sanctuary of the hyperbole. But I am 
 afraid you must deny admittance to the poor mason, 
 who said, ' this house will stand as long as the world, 
 and longer.'" 
 
 Scotchman. " Why should we ' shut the gates of 
 mercy' upon him when we pardon his betters for 
 more flagrant sins ? for instance, Mr. Pope, who, in 
 his Essay on Criticism, makes a blunder, or rather 
 uses an hyperbole, stronger than that of your poor 
 Irish mason : 
 
 ' When first young Maro in his noble mind 
 A work f outlast immortal Rome design'd.* 
 
 And to give you a more modern case, I lately heard 
 an English shopkeeper say to a lady in recommenda- 
 tion of his goods, ' Ma'am, it will wear for ever, and 
 make you a petticoat afterwards.' "
 
 238 ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS. 
 
 Irishman. " Upon my word, I did not think you 
 could have found a match for the mason ; but what 
 will you say to my countryman, who, on meeting an 
 acquaintance, accosted him with this ambiguous 
 compliment ' When first I saw you I thought it 
 was you, but now I see it is your brother.' " 
 
 Scotchman. " If I were not afraid you would 
 take me for a pedant, I should quote a sentence from 
 Cicero that is not far behind this blunder." 
 
 Irishman. " I can take you for nothing but a 
 friend : pray let us have the Latin." 
 
 Scotchman. " It is one of Cicero's compliments 
 to Caesar ' Qui, cum ipse imperator in toto imperio 
 populi Romani unus esset, esse me alterum passus 
 est.'* Perhaps," continued the Scotchman, " my 
 way of pronouncing Latin sounds strangely to you, 
 gentlemen?" 
 
 Irishman. " And perhaps ours would be unin- 
 telligible to Cicero himself, if he were to overhear 
 us : I fancy we are all so far from right, that we 
 need not dispute about degrees of wrong." 
 
 The coach stopped at this instant, and the conver- 
 sation was interrupted. 
 
 * And when Caesar was the only emperor within the dominion 
 of Rome, he suffered me to be another.
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 BATH COACH CONVERSATION. 
 
 AFTER our travellers had dined, the conversation 
 was renewed by the English gentleman's repeating 
 Goldsmith's celebrated lines on Burke : 
 
 ' f Who, too deep for his hearers, still went on refining, 
 And thought of convincing, whilst they thought of dining ; 
 In short, 'twas his fate, unemployed or in place, sir, 
 To eat mutton cold, and cut blocks with a razor." 
 
 " What humour and wit there are in that poem of 
 Goldsmith's ! and where is there any thing equal to 
 his ' Traveller?'" 
 
 Irishman. " Yet this is the man who used to be 
 the butt of the company for his bulls." 
 
 Englishman. " No, not for his bulls, but for 
 blurting out opinions in conversation that could not 
 stand the test of Dr. Johnson's critical powers. But 
 what would become of the freedom of wit and humour 
 if every word that came out of our mouths were 
 subject to the tax of a professed critic's censure, or 
 if every sentence were to undergo a logical examina- 
 tion ? It would be well for Englishmen if they were 
 a little more inclined, like your open-hearted country- 
 men, to blurt out their opinions freely." 
 
 Scotchman. " I cannot forgive Dr. Johnson for
 
 240 ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS. 
 
 calling Goldsmith an inspired idiot ; I confess I see 
 no idiotism, but much inspiration, in his works." 
 
 Irishman. " But we must remember, that if 
 Johnson did laugh at Goldsmith, he would let no one 
 else laugh ,at him, and he was his most sincere and 
 active friend. The \rorld would, perhaps, never have 
 seen the ' Vicar of Wakefield ' if Johnson had not 
 recommended it to a bookseller ; and Goldsmith might 
 have died in gaol if the doctor had not got him a 
 hundred pounds for it, when poor Goldsmith did not 
 know it was worth a shilling. When we recollect 
 this, we must forgive the doctor for calling him, in 
 jest, an inspired idiot." \ 
 
 Scotchman, " Especially as Goldsmith has wit 
 enough to bear him up against a thousand such 
 jests." 
 
 Englishman. " It is curious to observe how nearly 
 wit and absurdity are allied. We may forgive the 
 genius of Ireland if he sometimes 
 
 * Leap his light courser o'er the bounds of taste.' 
 
 Even English genius is not always to be restrained 
 within the strict limits of common sense. For in- 
 stance, Young is witty when he says, 
 
 ' How would a miser startle to be told 
 Of such a wonder as insolvent gold.' 
 
 But Johnson is, I am afraid, absurd when he says, 
 
 * Turn from the glittering bribe your scornful eye, 
 Nor sell for gold what gold can never buy.' "
 
 ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS. 241 
 
 Cf One case, to be sure, must be excepted," said 
 the Irishman ; " a patriot may sell his reputation, 
 and the purchaser get nothing by it. But, gentlemen, 
 I have just recollected an example of an Irish bull 
 in which are all the happy requisites, incongruity, 
 confusion, and laughable confusion, both in thought 
 and expression. When sir Richard Steele was asked, 
 how it happened that his countrymen made so many 
 bulls, he replied, ' It is the effect of climate, sir ; if 
 an Englishman were born in Ireland, he would make 
 as many.' 
 
 Scotchman. " This is an excellent bull, I allow ; 
 but I think I can match it." 
 
 Englishman. " And if he can, you will allow 
 yourself to be fairly vanquished ? " 
 
 Irishman. " Most willingly." 
 
 Scotchman. " Then I shall owe my victory to 
 our friend Dr. Johnson, the leviathan of English 
 literature. In his celebrated preface to Shakspeare 
 he says, that ' he has not only shown human nature 
 as it acts in real exigences, but as it would be found 
 in situations to which it cannot be exposed.' These 
 are his own words, I think I remember them accu- 
 rately." 
 
 The English gentleman smiled, and our Hibernian 
 acknowledged that the Scotchman had fairly gained 
 the victory. " My friends," added he, " as I cannot 
 pretend to be ' convinced against my will/ I cer- 
 tainly am not ' of the same opinion still.' But stay 
 there are such things as practical bulls : did you 
 never hear of the Irishman who ordered a painter to 
 
 R
 
 242 ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS* 
 
 draw his picture, and to represent him standing 
 behind a tree ? " 
 
 Englishman. " No : but I have heard the very 
 same story told of an Englishman. The dealers in 
 good jokes give them first to one nation and then to 
 another, first to one celebrated character and then to 
 another, as it suits the demand and fashion of the 
 day: just as our printsellers, with a few touches, 
 change the portrait of general Washington into the 
 head of the king of France, and a capital print of 
 sir Joshua Reynolds into a striking likeness of the 
 Monster, 
 
 <f But I can give you an instance of a practical 
 bull that is not only indisputably English, but was 
 made by one of the greatest men that England ever 
 produced, Sir Isaac Newton, who, after he had made 
 a large hole in his study-door for his cat to creep 
 through, made a small hole beside it for the kitten. 
 You will acknowledge, sir, that this is a good prac- 
 tical bull." 
 
 cc Pardon me," said the Hibernian, " we have still 
 some miles further to go, and, if you will give me 
 leave, I will relate ' an Hibernian tale/ which 
 exemplifies some of the opinions held in this conver- 
 sation." 
 
 The Scotch and English gentlemen begged to hear 
 the story, and he began in the following manner.
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 THE IRISH INCOGNITO. 
 
 SIR John Bull was a native of Ireland, bred and born 
 in the city of Cork. His real name was Pheliir. 
 O'Mooney, and he was by profession a stocak, or 
 walking gentleman ; that is, a person M'ho is too 
 proud to earn his bread, and too poor to have bread 
 without earning it. He had always been told that 
 none of his ancestors had ever been in trade or busi- 
 ness of any kind, and he resolved, when a boy, never 
 to demean himself and family, as. his elder brother 
 had done, by becoming a rich merchant. When he 
 grew up to be a young man he kept this spirited 
 resolution as long as he had a relation or friend in 
 the world Avho Avould let him hang upon them ; but 
 when he was shaken off by all, what could he do but 
 go into business ? He chose the most genteel, how- 
 ever ; he became a wine merchant. I'm only a \vine 
 merchant, said he to himself, and that is next door 
 to being nothing at all. His brother furnished his 
 cellars; and Mr. Phelim O'Mooney, upon the 
 strength of the wine that he. had in his cellars, and 
 of the money he expected to make of it, immediately 
 married a wife, set up a gig, and gave excellent 
 dinners to men who were ten times richer than he 
 even ever expected to be. In return for these excel- 
 K 2
 
 244 ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS. 
 
 lent dinners, his new friends bought all their wine 
 from Mr. O'Mooney, and never paid for it ; he lived 
 upon credit himself, and gave all his friends credit, 
 till he became a bankrupt. Then nobody came to 
 dine with him, and every body found out that he had 
 been very imprudent ; and he was obliged to sell his 
 gig, but not before it had broken his wife's neck ; so 
 that when accounts came to be finally settled, he was 
 not much worse than when he began the world, the 
 loss falling upon his creditors, and he being, as he 
 observed, free to begin life again, with the advantage 
 of being once more a bachelor. He was such a 
 good-natured, free-hearted fellow, that every body 
 liked him, even his creditors. His wife's relations 
 made up the sum of five hundred pounds for him, 
 and his brother offered to take him into his firm as 
 partner ; but O'Mooney preferred, he said, going to 
 try, or rather to make, his fortune in England, as he 
 did not doubt but he should by marriage, being, as 
 he did not scruple to acknowledge, a personable, 
 clever-looking man, and a great favourite with the sex. 
 " My last wife I married for love, my next I expect 
 will do the same by me, and of course the money 
 must come on her side this time," said our hero, half 
 jesting, half in earnest. His elder and wiser brother, 
 the merchant, whom he still held in more than 
 sufficient contempt, ventured to hint some slight 
 objections to this scheme of Phelim's seeking fortune 
 in England. He observed that so many had gone 
 upon this plan already, that there was rather a pre- 
 judice in England against Irish adventurers.
 
 ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS. 245 
 
 This could not affect him any ways, Phelim re- 
 plied, because he did not mean to appear in England 
 as an Irishman at all. 
 
 "How then?" 
 
 " As an Englishman, since that is most agreeable.' 
 
 " How can that be ? " 
 
 " Who should hinder it ?" 
 
 His brother, hesitatingly, said " Yourself." 
 
 " Myself ! What part of myself? Is it my 
 tongue ? You'll acknowledge, brother, that I do 
 not speak with the brogue." 
 
 It was true that Phelim did not speak with any 
 Irish brogue ; his mother was an English woman, 
 and he had lived much with English officers in 
 Cork, and he -had studied and imitated their manner 
 of speaking so successfully, that no one, merely by 
 his accent, could have guessed that he was an 
 Irishman. 
 
 te Hey ! brother, I say ! " continued Phelim, in a 
 triumphant English tone ; " I never was taken for 
 an Irishman in my life. Colonel Broadman told me 
 the other day, I spoke English better than the 
 English themselves ; that he should take me for an 
 Englishman, in any part of the known world, the 
 moment I opened my lips. You must allow that not 
 the smallest particle of brogue is discernible on my 
 tongue." 
 
 His brother allowed that not the smallest particle 
 of brogue was to be discerned upon Phelim's tongue, 
 but feared that some Irish idiom might be perceived 
 in his conversation. And then the name of O'Mooney !
 
 246 ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS. 
 
 " O, as to that, I need not trouble an act of par- 
 liament, or even a king's letter, just to change my 
 name for a season ; at the worst, I can travel and 
 appear incognito." 
 
 "Always?" 
 
 " No : only just till I'm upon good terms with 
 
 the lady< Mrs. Phelim O'Mooney, that is to be, 
 
 God willing. Never fear, nor shake your head, 
 brother; you men of business are out of this line, 
 and not proper judges : I beg your pardon for saying 
 so, but as you are my own brother, and nobody by, 
 you'll excuse me." 
 
 His brother did excuse him, but continued silent 
 for some minutes ; he was pondering upon the means 
 of persuading Phelim to give up this scheme. 
 
 " I would lay you any wager, my dear Phelim," 
 said he, " that you could not continue four days in 
 England incognito." 
 
 "Done!" cried Phelim. "Done for a hundred 
 pounds ; done for a thousand pounds, and welcome." 
 
 " But if you lose, how will you pay ?" 
 
 " Faith ! that's the last thing I thought of, being 
 sure of winning." 
 
 " Then you will not object to any mode of pay- 
 ment I shall propose." 
 
 " None : only remembering always, that I was a 
 bankrupt last week, and shall be little better till I'm 
 married ; but then I'll pay you honestly if I lose." 
 
 " No, if you lose I must be paid before that time, 
 my good sir," said his brother, laughing. " My bet 
 is this: I will lay you one hundred guineas that
 
 ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS. 247 
 
 you do not remain four days in England incognito ; 
 be upon honour with me, and promise, that if you 
 lose you will, instead of laying down a hundred 
 guineas, come back immediately, and settle quietly 
 again to business." 
 
 The word business was always odious to our hero's 
 proud ears ; but he thought himself so secure of 
 winning his wager, that he willingly bound himself 
 in a penalty which he believed would never become 
 due ; and his generous brother, at parting, made the 
 bet still more favourable, by allowing that Phelim 
 should not be deemed the loser unless he was, in 
 the course of the first four days after he touched 
 English ground, detected eight times in being an 
 Irishman. 
 
 " Eight times !" cried Phelim. " Good bye to a 
 hundred guineas, brother, you may say." 
 
 " You may say," echoed his brother, and so they 
 parted. 
 
 Mr. Phelim O'Mooney the next morning sailed 
 from Cork harbour with a prosperous gale, and with 
 a confidence in his own success which supplied the 
 place of auspicious omens. He embarked at Cork, to 
 go by long sea to London, and was driven into Deal, 
 where Julius Caesar once landed before him, and with 
 the same resolution to see and conquer. It was early 
 in the morning ; having been very sea-sick, he was 
 impatient, as soon as he got into the inn, for his 
 breakfast : he was shown into a room where three 
 ladies were waiting to go by the stage ; his air of easy 
 confidence was the best possible introduction.
 
 248 
 
 ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS. 
 
 " Would any of the company choose eggs ? " said 
 the waiter. 
 
 " I never touch an egg for my share/' said 
 O'Mooney, carelessly ; he knew that it was supposed 
 to be an Irish custom to eat eggs at breakfast ; and 
 when the malicious waiter afterwards set a plate full 
 of eggs in salt upon the table, our hero magnani- 
 mously abstained from them ; he even laughed 
 heartily at a story told by one of the ladies of an 
 Hibernian at Buxton, who declared that "no English 
 hen ever laid a fresh egg." 
 
 O'Mooney got through breakfast much to his own 
 satisfaction, and to that of the ladies, whom he had 
 taken a proper occasion to call the three graces, and 
 whom he had informed that he was an old baronet 
 of an English family, and that his name >vas sir John 
 Bull. The youngest of the graces civilly observed, 
 " that whatever else he might be, she should never 
 have taken him for an old baronet." The lady 
 who made this speech was pretty, but O'Mooney 
 had penetration enough to discover, in the course 
 of the conversation, that she and her companions 
 were far from being divinities ; his three graces 
 were a greengrocer's wife, a tallowchandler's widow, 
 and a milliner. When he found that these ladies 
 were likely to be his companions if he were to travel 
 in the coach he changed his plan, and ordered a 
 postchaise and four. 
 
 O'Mooney was not in danger of making any vulgar 
 Irish blunders in paying his bill at an inn. No land- 
 lord or waiter could have suspected him, especially
 
 ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS. 249 
 
 as he always left them to settle the matter first, and 
 then looked over the bill and money with a careless 
 gentility, saying, " Very right," or, " Very well, 
 sir ; " wisely calculating, that it was better to lose a 
 few shillings on the road, than to lose a hundred 
 pounds by the risk of Hibernian miscalculation. 
 
 Whilst the chaise was getting ready he went to 
 the custom-house to look after his baggage. He 
 found a red-hot countryman of his own there, roaring 
 about four and fourpence, and fighting the battle of 
 his trunks, in which he was ready to make affidavit 
 there was not, nor never had been, any thing contra- 
 band ; and when the custom-house officer replied by 
 pulling out of one of them a piece of Irish poplin, the 
 Hibernian fell immediately upon the Union, which 
 he swore was Disunion, as the custom-house officers 
 managed it. Sir John Bull appeared to much ad- 
 vantage all this time, maintaining a dignified silence ; 
 from his quiet appearance and deportment, the cus- 
 tom-house officers took it for granted that he was an 
 Englishman. He was in no hurry ; he begged that 
 gentleman's business might be settled first ; he would 
 wait the officer's leisure, and as he spoke he played 
 so dexterously with half-a-guinea between his fingers, 
 as to make it visible only where he wished. The 
 custom-house officer was his humble servant imme- 
 diately ; but the Hibernian would have been his 
 enemy, if he had not conciliated him by observing, 
 " that even Englishmen must allow there was some- 
 thing very like a bull in professing to make a com- 
 plete identification of the two kingdoms, whilst, at
 
 250 ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS. 
 
 the same time, certain regulations continued in full 
 force to divide the countries by art, even more than 
 the British channel does by nature." 
 
 Sir John talked so plausibly, and, above all, so 
 candidly and coolly on Irish and English politics, that 
 the custom-house officer conversed with him for a 
 quarter of an hour without guessing of what country 
 he was, till in an unlucky moment Phelim's heart 
 got the better of his head. Joining in the praises 
 bestowed by all parties on the conduct of a distin- 
 guished patriot of his country, he, in the height of 
 his enthusiasm, inadvertently called him the Speaker. 
 
 " The Speaker !" said the officer. 
 
 " Yes, the Speaker our Speaker !" cried Phelim, 
 with exultation. He was not aware how he had be- 
 trayed himself, till the officer smiled and said 
 
 " Sir, I really never should have found out that 
 you were an Irishman but from the manner in which 
 you named your countryman, who is as highly thought 
 of by all parties in this country as in yours : your 
 enthusiasm does honour to your heart." 
 
 " And to my head, I'm sure," said our hero, 
 laughing with the best grace imaginable. " Well ! I 
 am glad you have found me out in thismanner, though 
 I lose the eighth part of a bet of a hundred guineas 
 by it." 
 
 He explained the wager, and begged the custom- 
 house officer to keep his secret, which he promised to 
 do faithfully, and assured him, " that he should be 
 happy to do any thing in his power to serve him." 
 Whilst he was uttering these last words, there came
 
 ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS. 251 
 
 in a snug, but soft-looking Englishman, who opining 
 from the words " happy to do any thing in my power 
 to serve you," that O'Mooney was a friend of the 
 custom-house officer's, and encouraged by something 
 affable and good-natured in our hero's countenance, 
 crept up to him, and whispered a request "Could 
 you tell a body, sir, how to get out of the custom- 
 house a very valuable box of Sevre china that has 
 been laying in the custom-house three weeks, and 
 which I was commissioned to get out if I could, and 
 bring up to town for a lady." 
 
 As a lady was in the case, O'Mooney's gallantry 
 instantly made his good-nature effective. The box 
 of Sevre china was produced, and opened only as a 
 matter of form, and only as a matter of curiosity its 
 contents \rere examined a beautiful set of Sevre 
 china and a pendule, said to have belonged to M. 
 Egalite ! " These things must be intended," said 
 Phelim, " for some lady of superior taste or fortune." 
 
 As Phelim was a proficient in the Socratic art of 
 putting judicious interrogatories, he was soon happily 
 master of the principal points it concerned him to 
 know: he learnt that the lady was rich a spinster 
 of full age at her own disposal living with a 
 single female companion at Blackheath furnishing 
 a house there in a superior style had two carriages 
 her Christian name Mary her surname Sharper- 
 son. 
 
 O'Mooney, by the blessing of God, it shall soon be, 
 thought Phelim. He politely offered the English- 
 man a place in his chaise for himself and Sevre china,
 
 252 ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS. 
 
 as it was for a lady, and would run great hazard in 
 the stage, which besides was full. Mr. Queasy, for 
 that was our soft Englishman's name, was astonished 
 by our hero's condescension and affability, especially 
 as he heard him called sir John : he bowed sundry 
 times as low as the fear of losing his wig would 
 permit, and accepted the polite offer with many 
 thanks for himself and the lady concerned. 
 
 Sir John Bull's chaise and four was soon ready ; 
 and Queasy seated in the corner of it, and the Sevre 
 china safely stowed between his knees. Captain 
 Murray, a Scotch officer, was standing at the inn 
 door, with his eyes intently fixed on the letters that 
 were worked in nails on the top of sir John's trunk ; 
 the letters were, P. O'M. Our hero, whose eyes 
 were at least as quick as the Scotchman's, was 
 alarmed lest this should lead to a second detection. 
 He called instantly, with his usual presence of mind, 
 to the ostler, and desired him to uncord that trunk, 
 as it was not to go with him ; raising his voice 
 loud enough for all the yard to hear, he added 
 <f It is not mine at all ; it belongs to my friend, Mr. 
 O'Mooney : let it be sent after me, at leisure, 
 by the waggon, as directed, to the care of sir John 
 Bull." 
 
 Our hero was now giving his invention a pro- 
 digious quantity of superfluous trouble; and upon 
 this occasion, as upon mpst others, he was more in 
 danger from excess than deficiency of ingenuity : he 
 was like the man in the fairy tale, who was obliged 
 to tie his legs lest he should outrun the object of
 
 ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS. 253 
 
 which he was in pursuit. The Scotch officer, though 
 his eyes were fixed on the letters P. O'M., had none 
 of the suspicions which Phelim was counteracting ; 
 he was only considering how he could ask for the 
 third place in sir John's chaise during the next stage, 
 as he was in great haste to get to town upon parti- 
 cular business, and there were no other horses at the 
 inn. When he heard that the heavy baggage was to 
 go by the waggon, he took courage, and made his re- 
 quest. It was instantly granted by the good-natured 
 Hibernian, who showed as much hospitality about his 
 chaise as if it had been his house. Away they drove 
 as fast as they could. Fresh dangers awaited him 
 at the next inn. He left his hat upon the table in 
 the hall whilst he went into the parlour, and when 
 he returned, he heard some person inquiring what 
 Irish gentleman was there. Our hero was terribly 
 alarmed, for he saw that his hat was in the inquirer's 
 hand, and he recollected that the name of Phelim 
 O'Mooney was written in it. This the inquisitive 
 gentleman did not see, for it was written in no very 
 legible characters on the leather withinside of the 
 front ; but " F. Guest, hatter, Dame-street, Dublin," 
 was a printed advertisement that could not be mis- 
 taken, and that was pasted within the crown. 
 O'Mooney's presence of mind did not forsake him 
 upon this emergency. 
 
 " My good sir," said he, turning to Queasy, who, 
 without hearing one word of what was passing, was 
 coming out of the parlour, with his own hat and 
 gloves in his hand ; " My good sir," continued he,
 
 254 ESSAY ON IRISH BULI^S. 
 
 loading him with parcels, " will you have the good- 
 ness to see these put into my carriage ? I'll take care 
 of your hat and gloves/' added O'Mooney in a low 
 voice. Queasy surrendered his hat and gloves in- 
 stantly, unknowing wherefore ; then squeezed forward 
 with his load through the crowd, crying " Waiter ! 
 hostler ! pray, somebody put these into sir John Bull's 
 chaise." 
 
 Sir John Bull, equipped with Queasy 's hat, 
 marched deliberately through the defile, bowing with 
 the air of at least an English county member to this 
 side and to that, as way was made for him to his 
 carriage. No one suspected that the hat did not 
 belong to him ; no one, indeed, thought of the hat, 
 for all eyes were fixed upon the man. Seated in the 
 carriage, he threw money to the waiter, hostler, and 
 boots, and drew up the glass, bidding the postilions 
 drive on. By this tool self-possession our hero effected 
 his retreat with successful generalship, leaving his 
 new Dublin beaver behind him, without regret, as 
 bona waviata. Queasy, before whose eyes things 
 passed continually without his seeing them, thanked 
 sir John for the care he had taken of his hat, drew 
 on his gloves, and calculated aloud how long they 
 should be going to the next stage. At the first town 
 they passed through, O'Mooney bought a new hat, 
 and Queasy deplored the unaccountable mistake by 
 which sir John's hat had been forgotten. No further 
 mistakes happened upon the journey. The travellers 
 rattled on, and neither ' stinted nor stayed ' till they 
 arrived at Blackheath, at miss Sharperson's. Sir
 
 ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS, 255 
 
 John sat Queasy down without having given him the 
 least hint of his designs upon the lady ; but as he 
 helped him out with the Sevre china, he looked 
 through the large opening double doors of the hall, 
 and slightly said " Upon my word, this seems to be 
 a handsome house : it would be worth looking at, if 
 the family were not at home." 
 
 (< I am morally sure, sir John," said the soft 
 Queasy, " that miss Sharperson would be happy to 
 let you see the house to-night, and this minute, if 
 she knew you were at the door, and who you were, 
 and all your civility about me and the china. Do, 
 pray, walk in." 
 
 " Not for the world : a gentleman could not do 
 such a thing without an invitation from the lady of 
 the house herself." 
 
 " Oh, if that's all, I'll step up myself to the young 
 lady ; I'm certain she'll be proud " 
 
 " Mr. Queasy, by no means ; I would not have the 
 lady disturbed for the world at this unseasonable 
 hour. It is too late quite too late." 
 
 " Not at all, begging pardon, sir John," said 
 Queasy, taking out his watch : " only just tea-time 
 by me. Not at all unseasonable for any body ; be- 
 sides, the message is of my own head: all, you know, 
 if not well taken " 
 
 Up the great staircase he made bold to go on his 
 mission, as he thought, in defiance of sir John's better 
 judgment. He returned in a few minutes with a 
 face of self-complacent exultation, and miss Shar- 
 person's compliments, and begs sir John Bull will
 
 256 ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS. 
 
 walk up and rest himself with a dish of tea, and has 
 her thanks to him for the china. 
 
 Now Queasy, who had the highest possible opinion 
 of sir John Bull and of miss Sharperson, whom he 
 thought the two people of the greatest consequence 
 and affability, had formed the notion that they were 
 made for each other, and that it must be a match if 
 they could but meet. The meeting he had now 
 happily contrived and effected ; and he had done his 
 part for his friend sir John, with miss Sharperson, 
 by as many exaggerations as he could utter in five 
 minutes, concerning his perdigious politeness and 
 courage, his fine person and carriage, his ancient fa- 
 mily, and vast connections and importance wherever 
 he appeared on the road, at inns, and over all Eng- 
 land. He had previously, during the journey, done 
 his part for his friend miss Sharperson \vith sir John, 
 by stating that " she had a large fortune left her by 
 her mother, and was to have twice as much from her 
 grandmother; that she had thousands upon thousands 
 in the funds, and an estate of two thousand a year, 
 called Rascally, in Scotland, besides plate and jewels 
 without end." 
 
 Thus prepared, how could this lady and gentleman 
 meet without falling desperately in love with each 
 other ! 
 
 Though a servant in handsome livery appeared 
 ready to show sir John up the great staircase, Mr. 
 Queasy acted as a gentleman usher, or rather as 
 showman. He nodded to sir John as they passed 
 across a long gallery and through an ante-chamber,
 
 ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS. 257 
 
 threw open the doors of various apartments as he 
 went along, crying " Peep in ! peep in ! peep in 
 toere ! peep in there ! Is not this spacious ? Is not 
 this elegant ? Is not that grand ? Did I say too 
 much ? " continued he, rubbing his hands with delight. 
 " Did you ever see so magnificent and such highly- 
 polished steel grates out of Lon'on ? " 
 
 Sir John, conscious that the servant's eyes were 
 upon him, smiled at this question, " looked superior 
 down ; " and though with reluctant complaisance he 
 leaned his body to this side or to that, as Queasy 
 pulled or swayed, yet he appeared totally regardless 
 of the man's vulgar reflections. He had seen every 
 thing as he passed, and was surprised at all he saw ; 
 but he evinced not the slightest symptom of astonish- 
 ment. He was now ushered into a spacious, well 
 lighted apartment: he entered with the easy, unem- 
 barrassed air of a man who was perfectly accustomed 
 to such a home. His quick coup-d'ceil took in the 
 whole at a single glance. Two magnificent candelabras 
 stood on Egyptian tables at the farther end of the 
 room, and the lights were reflected on all sides from 
 mirrors of no common size. Nothing seemed worthy 
 to attract our hero's attention but the lady of the 
 house, whom he approached with an air of distin- 
 guished respect. She was reclining on a Turkish 
 sofa, her companion seated beside her, tuning a 
 harp. Miss Sharperson half rose to receive sir 
 John : he paid his compliments with an easy., yet 
 respectful air. He was thanked for his civilities to
 
 258 ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS. 
 
 the person who had been commissioned to bring the 
 box of Sevre cLina from Deal. 
 
 " Vastly sorry it should have been so trouble- 
 some/' miss Sharperson said, in a voice fashionably 
 unintelligible, and with a most becoming yet inti- 
 midating nonchalance of manner. Intimidating it 
 might have been to any man but our hero ; he, who 
 had the happy talent of catching, wherever he 
 went, the reigning manner of the place, replied to 
 the lady in equal strains ; and she, in her turn, 
 seemed to look upon him more as her equal. Tea 
 and coffee were served. Nothings were talked of 
 quite easily by sir John. He practised the art 
 " not to admire," so as to give a justly high opinion 
 of his taste, consequence, and knowledge of the 
 world. Miss Sharperson, though her nonchalance 
 was much diminished, continued to maintain a cer- 
 tain dignified reserve ; whilst her companion, miss 
 Felicia Flat, condescended to ask sir John, who had 
 doubtless seen every tine house in England and on 
 the continent, his opinion with respect to the furni- 
 ture and finishing of the room, the placing of the 
 Egyptian tables and the candelabras. 
 
 No mortal could have guessed by sir John Bull's 
 air, when he heard this question, that he had never 
 seen a candelabra before in his life. He was so 
 much, and yet seemingly so little upon his guard, 
 he dealt so dexterously in generals, and evaded par- 
 ticulars so delicately, that he went through this 
 dangerous conversation triumphantly. Careful not
 
 ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS. 259 
 
 to protract his visit beyond the bounds of propriety, 
 he soon rose to take leave, and he mingled " intru- 
 sion, regret, late hour, happiness, and honour," so 
 charmingly in his parting compliment, as to leave 
 the most favourable impression on the minds of both 
 the ladies, and to procure for himself an invitation to 
 see the house next morning. 
 
 The first day was now ended, and our hero had 
 been detected but once. He went to rest this night 
 well satisfied with himself, but much more occupied 
 with the hopes of marrying the heiress of Rascally 
 than of winning a paltry bet. 
 
 The next day he waited upon the ladies in high 
 spirits. Neither of them was visible, but Mr. Queasy 
 had orders to show him the house, which he did 
 with much exultation, dwelling particularly in his 
 praises on the beautiful high polish of the steel 
 grates. Queasy boasted that it was he who had re- 
 commended the ironmonger who furnished the house 
 in that line ; and that his bill, as he was proud to 
 state, amounted to many, many hundreds. Sir John, 
 who did not attend to one word Queasy said, went to 
 examine the map of the Rascally estate, which was 
 unrolled, and he had leisure to count the number of 
 lords' and ladies' visiting tickets which lay upon the 
 chimney-piece. He saw names of people of the first 
 quality and respectability : it was plain that Miss 
 Sharperson must be a lady of high family as well as 
 large fortune, else she would not be visited by per- 
 sons of such distinction. Our hero's passion for her 
 increased every moment. Her companion, miss 
 s 2
 
 260 ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS. 
 
 Flat, now appeared, and entered very freely into 
 conversation with sir John ; and as he perceived that 
 she was commissioned to sit in judgment upon him, 
 he evaded all her leading questions with the skill of 
 an Irish witness, but without giving any Hibernian 
 answers. She was fairly at a fault. Miss Sharper- 
 son at length appeared, elegantly dressed ; her per- 
 son was genteel, and her face rather pretty. Sir 
 John, at this instant, thought her beautiful, or 
 seemed to think so. The ladies interchanged looks, 
 and afterwards sir John found a softness in his fair 
 one's manner, a languishing tenderness in her eyes, 
 in the tone of her voice, and at the same time a 
 modest perplexity and reserve about her, which alto- 
 gether persuaded him that he was quite right, and 
 his brother quite wrong en fait d' amour. Miss Flat 
 appeared no\v to have the most self-possession of the 
 three, and miss Sharperson looked at her, from time 
 to time, as if she asked leave to be in love. Sir 
 John's visit lasted a full half hour before he was 
 .sensible of having been five minutes engaged in this 
 delightful conversation. 
 
 Miss Sharperson's coach now came to the door : 
 he handed her into it, and she gave him a parting 
 look, which satisfied him all was yet safe in her 
 heart. Miss Flat, as he handed her into the car- 
 riage, said, " Perhaps they should meet Sir John at 
 Tunbridge, where they were going in a few days." 
 She added some words as she seated herself, M'hich 
 he scarcely noticed at the time, but they recurred 
 afterwards disagreeably to his memory. The words
 
 ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS. 261 
 
 were, " I'm so glad we've a roomy coach, for of all 
 things it annoys me to be squeedged in a carriage." 
 This word squeedged, as he had not been used to 
 it in Ireland, sounded to him extremely vulgar, and 
 gave him suspicions of the most painful nature. He 
 had the precaution, before he left Blackheath, to go 
 into several shops, and to inquire something more 
 concerning his fair ladies. All he heard was much 
 to their advantage ; that is, much to the advantage 
 of miss Sharperson's fortune. All agreed that she 
 was a rich Scotch heiress. A rich Scotch heiress, 
 sir John wisely considered, might have an humble 
 companion who spoke bad English. He concluded 
 that squeedged was Scotch, blamed himself for his 
 suspicions, and was more in love with his mistress 
 and with himself than ever. As he returned to 
 town, he framed the outline of a triumphant letter 
 to his brother on his approaching marriage. The 
 bet was a matter, at present, totally beneath his 
 consideration. However, we must do him the jus- 
 tice to say, that like a man of honour he resolved 
 that, as soon as he had won the lady's heart, he 
 would candidly tell her his circumstances, and then 
 leave her the choice either to marry him or break 
 her heart, as she pleased. Just as he had formed 
 this generous resolution, at a sudden turn of the 
 road he overtook miss Sharperson's coach : he bowed 
 and looked in as he passed, when, to his astonish- 
 ment, he saw, squeedged up in the corner by miss 
 Felicia, Mr. Queasy. He thought that this was a 
 blunder in etiquette that would never have been
 
 262 JESSAY ON IRISH BULLS. 
 
 made in Ireland. Perhaps his mistress was of the 
 same opinion, for she hastily pulled down the blind 
 as sir John passed. A cold qualm came over the 
 lover's heart. He lost no time in idle doubts and 
 suspicions, but galloped on to town as fast as he 
 could, and went immediately to call upon the Scotch 
 officer with whom he had travelled, and whom he 
 knew to be keen and prudent. He recollected the 
 map of the Rascally estate, which he saw in miss 
 Sharperson's breakfast-room, and he remembered 
 that the lands were said to lie in that part of Scot- 
 land from which captain Murray came ; from him 
 he resolved to inquire into the state of the premises, 
 before he should offer himself as tenant for life. 
 Captain Murray assured him that there was no such 
 place as Rascally in that part of Scotland ; that he 
 had never heard of any such person as miss Shar- 
 person, though he was acquainted with every family 
 and every estate in the neighbourhood where she 
 fabled her's to be. O'Mooney drew, from memory, 
 the map of the Rascally estate. Captain Murray 
 examined the boundaries, and assured him that his 
 cousin the general's lands joined his own at the 
 very spot which he described, and that unless two 
 straight lines could enclose a space, the Rascally 
 estate could not be found. 
 
 Sir John, naturally of a warm temper, proceeded, 
 however, with prudence. The Scotch officer admired 
 his sagacity in detecting this adventurer. Sir John 
 waited at his hotel for Queasy, who had promised 
 to call to let him know \vhen the ladies would go
 
 BSSAY ON IRISH BULLS. 263 
 
 to Tunbridge. Queasy came. Nothing could equal 
 his astonishment and dismay when he was told the 
 news. 
 
 " No such place as the Rascally estate ! Then 
 I'm an undone man ! an undone man ! " cried poor 
 Queasy, bursting into tears : " but I'm certain it's 
 impassible ; and you'll find, sir John, you've been 
 misinformed. I would stake my life upon it, miss 
 Sharperson's a rich heiress, and has a rich grand- 
 mother. Why, she's five hundred pounds in my 
 debt, and I know of her being thousands and thou- 
 sands in the books of as good men as myself, to 
 whom I've recommended her, which I wouldn't 
 have done for my life if I had not known her to be 
 solid. You'll find she'll prove a rich heiress, sir 
 John." 
 
 Sir John hoped so, but the proofs were not yet 
 satisfactory. Queasy determined to inquire about 
 her payments to certain creditors at Blackheath, and 
 promised to give a decisive answer in the morning. 
 O'Mooney saw that this man was too great a fool to 
 be a knave ; his perturbation was evidently the per- 
 turbation of a dupe, not of an accomplice : Queasy 
 was made to " be an anvil, not a hammer." In the 
 midst of his own disappointment, our good-natured 
 Hibernian really pitied this poor currier. 
 
 The next morning sir John went early to Black- 
 heath. All was confusion at miss Sharperson's 
 house ; the steps covered with grates and furniture 
 of all sorts; porters carrying out looking-glasses, 
 Egyptian tables, and candelabras ; the noise of
 
 -6t>4 ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS. 
 
 workmen was heard in every apartment ; and louder 
 than all the rest, O'Mooney heard the curses that 
 were denounced against his rich heiress curses 
 such as are bestowed on a swindler in the moment of 
 detection by the tradesmen whom she has ruined. 
 
 Our hero, who was of a most happy temper, con- 
 gratulated himself upon having, by his own wit and 
 prudence, escaped making the practical bull of mar- 
 rying a female swindler. 
 
 Now that Phelim's immediate hopes of marrying 
 a rich heiress were over, his bet with his brother 
 appeared to him of more consequence, and he re- 
 joiced in the reflection that this was the third day 
 he had spent in England, and that he had but once 
 been detected. The ides of March were come, but 
 not passed ! 
 
 " My lads," said he to the workmen who were 
 busy in carrying out the furniture from miss Shar- 
 person's house, " all hands are at work, I see, in 
 saving what they can from the wreck of the Shar- 
 person. She was as well-fitted out a vessel, and in 
 as gallant trim, as any ship upon the face of the 
 earth." 
 
 " Ship upon the face of the yearth ! " repeated an 
 English porter with a sneer ; " ship upon the face 
 of the water, you should say, master ; but I take it 
 you be's an Irishman." 
 
 . O'Mooney had reason to be particularly vexed at 
 being detected by this man, who spoke a miserable 
 jargon, and who seemed not to have a very extensive 
 range of ideas. He was one of those half-witted
 
 ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS. 265 
 
 geniuses who catch at the shadow of an Irish bull. 
 In fact, Phelim had merely made a lapsus linguae, 
 and had used an expression justifiable by the au- 
 thority of the elegant and witty lord Chesterfield, 
 who said no, who wrote that the English navy is 
 the finest navy upon the face of the earth ! But it 
 was in vain for our hero to argue the point ; he was 
 detected no matter how or by whom. But this was 
 only his second detection, and three of his four days 
 of probation were past. 
 
 He dined this day at captain Murray's. In the 
 room in which they dined there was a picture of the 
 captain, painted by Romney. Sir John, who hap- 
 pened to be seated opposite to it, observed that it 
 was a very fine picture ; the more he looked at it 
 the more he liked it. His admiration was at last 
 unluckily expressed : he said " that's an incom- 
 parable, an inimitable picture ; it is absolutely more 
 like than the original." * 
 
 A keen Scotch lady in company smiled, and re- 
 peated, " More like than the original ! Sir John, if 1 
 had not been told by my relative here that you were 
 an Englishman, I should have set you doon, from 
 that speech, for an Irishman." 
 
 This unexpected detection brought the colour, for 
 a moment, into sir John's face; but immediately re- 
 covering his presence of mind, he said, " That was, 
 I acknowledge, an excellent Irish bull ; but in the 
 course of my travels I have heard as good English 
 bulls as Irish." 
 
 " This bull was really made.
 
 266 ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS. 
 
 To this captain Murray politely acceded, and he 
 produced some laughable instances in support of 
 the assertion, which gave the conversation a new 
 turn. 
 
 O'Mooney felt extremely obliged to the captain 
 for this, especially as he saw, by his countenance, 
 that he also had suspicions of the truth. The first 
 moment he found himself alone with Murray, our 
 hero said to him, " Murray, you are too good a 
 fellow to impose upon, even in jest. Your keen 
 countrywoman guessed the truth I am an Irish- 
 man, but not a swindler. You shall hear why I 
 conceal my country and name ; only keep my secret 
 till to-morrow night, or I shall lose a hundred gui- 
 neas by my frankness." 
 
 O'Mooney then explained to him the nature of 
 his bet. " This is only my third detection, and half 
 of it voluntary, I might say, if I chose to higgle, 
 which I scorn to do." 
 
 Captain Murray was so much pleased by this 
 openness, that as he shook hands with O'Mooney, he 
 said, " Give me leave to tell you, sir, that even if 
 you should lose your bet by this frank behaviour, you 
 will have gained a better thing a friend." 
 
 In the evening our hero went with his friend and 
 a party of gentlemen to Maidenhead, near which 
 place a battle was to be fought next day, between 
 two famous pugilists, Bourke and Belcher. At the 
 appointed time the combatants appeared upon the 
 stage ; the whole boxing corps and the gentlemen 
 amateurs crowded to behold the spectacle. Phelim 
 O'Mooney's heart beat for the Irish champion
 
 ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS 267 
 
 Bourke ; but he kept a guard upon his tongue, and 
 had even the forbearance not to bet upon his 
 countryman's head. How many rounds were fought, 
 and how many minutes the fight lasted, how many 
 blows were put in on each side, or which was the 
 game man of the two, we forbear to decide or relate, 
 as all this has been settled in the newspapers of the 
 day ; where also it was remarked, that Bourke, who 
 lost the battle, " was put into a post-chaise, and left 
 standing half an hour, while another fight took 
 place. This was very scandalous on the part of his 
 friends," says the humane newspaper historian, " as 
 the poor man might possibly be dying." 
 
 Our hero O'Mooney's heart again got the better 
 of his head. Forgetful of his bet, forgetful of every 
 thing but humanity, he made his way up to the 
 chaise, where Bourke was left. " How are you my 
 gay fellow ? " said he. " Can you see at all with the 
 eye that's knocked out ? " 
 
 The brutal populace, who overheard this question, 
 set up a roar of laughter : " A bull ! a bull ! an 
 Irish bull ! Did you hear the question this Irish 
 gentleman asked his countryman ? " 
 
 O'Mooney was detected a fourth time, and this 
 time he was not ashamed. There was one man in 
 the crowd who did not join in the laugh : a poor 
 Irishman, of the name of Terence M'Dermod. He 
 had in former times gone out a grousing, near Cork, 
 with our hero ; and the moment he heard his voice, 
 he sprang forward, and with uncouth but honest de- 
 monstrations of joy, exclaimed, " Ah, my dear
 
 268 ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS. 
 
 master ! my dear young master ! Phelim O'Mooney, 
 esq. And I have found your honour alive again ? 
 By the blessing of God above, I'll never part you 
 now till I die ; and I'll go to the world's end to sarve 
 yees." 
 
 O'Mooney wished him at the world's end this 
 instant, yet could not prevail upon himself to check 
 this affectionate follower of the O'Mooneys. He, 
 however, put half a crown into his hand, and hinted 
 that if he wished really to serve him, it must be at 
 some other time. The poor fellow threw down the 
 money, saying, he would never leave him. " Bid 
 me do any thing, barring that. No, you shall never 
 part me. Do what you plase with me, still I'll be 
 close to your heart, like your own shadow: knock 
 me down if you will, and wilcome, ten times a day, 
 and I'll be up again like a ninepin : only let me 
 sarve your honour ; I'll ask no wages nor take 
 none." 
 
 There was no withstanding all this ; and whether 
 our hero's good-nature deceived him we shall not 
 determine, but he thought it most prudent, as he 
 could not get rid of Terence, to take him into his 
 service, to let him into his secret, to make him swear 
 that he would never utter the name of Phelim 
 O'Mooney during the remainder of this day. Te- 
 rence heard the secret of the bet with joy, entered 
 into the jest with all the readiness of an Irishman, 
 and with equal joy and readiness, swore by the 
 hind leg of the holy lamb that he would never 
 mention, even to his own dog, the name of Phelim
 
 ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS. 269 
 
 O'Mooney, esq., good or bad, till past twelve o'clock; 
 and further, that he would, till the clock should 
 strike that hour, call his master sir John Bull, and 
 nothing else, to all men, women, and children, upon 
 the floor of God's creation. 
 
 Satisfied with the fulness of this oath, O'Mooney 
 resolved to return to town with his man Terence 
 M'Dermod. He, however, contrived, before he got 
 there, to make a practical bull, by which he was de- 
 tected a fifth time. He got into the coach which 
 was driving from London instead of that which was 
 driving to London, and he would have been carried 
 rapidly to Oxford, had not his man Terence, after 
 they had proceeded a mile and a half on the wrong 
 road, put his head down from the top of the coach, 
 crying, as he looked in at the window, " Master, sir 
 John Bull, are you there ? Do you know we're in 
 the wrong box, going to Oxford ? " 
 
 " Your master's an Irishman, dare to say, as well 
 as yourself," said the coachman, as he let sir John 
 out. He walked back to Maidenhead, and took a 
 chaise to town. 
 
 It was six o'clock when he got to London, and he 
 went into a coffee-house to dine. He sat down 
 beside a gentleman who was reading the newspaper. 
 " Any news to-day, sir ? " 
 
 The gentleman told him the news of the day, and 
 then began to read aloud some paragraphs in a strong 
 Hibernian accent. Our hero was sorry that he had 
 met with another countryman ; but he resolved to set 
 a guard upon his lips, and he knew that his own 
 accent could not betray him. The stranger read on
 
 270 
 
 till he came to a trial about a legacy which an old 
 woman had left to her cats. O'Mooney exclaimed, 
 " I hate cats almost as much as old women ; and if 
 I had been the English minister, I would have laid 
 the dog-tax upon cats." 
 
 " If you had been the Irish minister, you mean," 
 said the stranger, smiling ; " for I perceive now you 
 are a countryman of my own." 
 
 " How can you think so, sir ? " said O'Mooney : 
 " You have no reason to suppose so from my accent, 
 I believe." 
 
 " None in life^ quite the contrary ; for you speak 
 remarkable pure English not the least note or half 
 note of the brogue ; but there's another sort of free- 
 mason sign by which we Hibernians know one another 
 and are known all over the globe. Whether to call 
 it a confusion of expressions or of ideas, I can't tell. 
 Now an Englishman, if he had been saying what 
 you did, sir, just now, would have taken time to 
 separate the dog and the tax, and he would have put 
 the tax upon cats, and let the dogs go about their 
 business." Our hero, with his usual good-humour, 
 acknowledged himself to be fairly detected. 
 
 " Well, sir," said the stranger, " if I had not 
 found you out before by the blunder, I should be 
 sure now you were my countryman by your good- 
 humour. An Irishman can take what's said to him, 
 provided no affront's meant, with more good-humour 
 than any man on earth." 
 
 " Ay, that he can," cried O'Mooney : " he lends 
 himself, like the whale, to be tickled even by the 
 fellow with the harpoon, till he finds what he is
 
 ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS. 
 
 about, and then he pays away, and pitches the fellow, 
 boat and all, to the devil. Ah, countryman! you 
 would give me credit indeed for my good humour if 
 you knew what danger you have put me in by de- 
 tecting me for an Irishman. I have been found out 
 six times, and if I blunder twice more before twelve 
 o'clock this night, I shall lose a hundred guineas by 
 it : but I will make sure of my bet ; for I will go 
 home straight this minute, lock myself up in my 
 room, and not say a word to any mortal till the 
 watchman cries ' past twelve o'clock,' then the fast 
 and long Lent of my tongue will be fairly over ; and 
 if you'll meet me, my dear friend, at the King's 
 Arms, we will have a good supper and keep Easter 
 for ever." 
 
 Phelim, pursuant to his resolution, returned to his 
 hotel, and shut himself up in his room, where he re- 
 mained in perfect silence and consequent safety till 
 about nine o'clock. Suddenly he heard a great 
 huzzaing in the street ; he looked out of the window, 
 and saw that all the houses in the street were illu- 
 minated. His landlady came bustling into his 
 apartment, followed by waiters with candles. His 
 spirits instantly rose, though he did not clearly knovr 
 the cause of the rejoicings. " I give you joy, 
 ma'am. What are you all illuminating for ? " said 
 he to his landlady. 
 
 " Thank you, sir, with all my heart. I am not 
 sure. It is either for a great victory or the peace. 
 Bob waiter step out and inquire for the gentle- 
 man." 
 
 The gentleman preferred stepping out to inquire
 
 272 ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS. 
 
 for himself. The illuminations were in honour of 
 the peace. He totally forgot his bet, his silence, 
 and his prudence, in his sympathy with the general 
 joy. He walked rapidly from street to street, ad- 
 miring the various elegant devices. A crowd was 
 standing before the windows of a house that was 
 illuminated with extraordinary splendour. He in- 
 quired whose it was, and was informed that it 
 belonged to a contractor, who had made an immense 
 fortune by the war. 
 
 " Then I'm sure these illuminations of his for the 
 peace are none of the most sincere," said O'Mooney. 
 The mob were of his opinion ; and Phelim, who was 
 now, alas ! Avorked up to the proper pitch for 
 blundering, added, by way of pleasing his audience 
 still more " If this contractor had illuminated in 
 character, it should have been with dark lanterns." 
 . " Should it ? by Jasus ! that would be an Irish 
 illumination," cried some one. " Arrah, honey ! 
 you're an Irishman, whoever you are, and have spoke 
 your mind in character." 
 
 . Sir John Bull was vexed that the piece of wit 
 which he had aimed at the contractoi had recoiled 
 upon himself. " It is always, as my countryman 
 observed, by having too much wit that I blunder. 
 The deuce take me if I sport a single bon mot more 
 this night. This is only my seventh detection, I 
 have an eighth blunder still to the good; and if I can 
 but keep my wit to myself till I am out of pur- 
 gatory, then I shall be in heaven, and may sing lo 
 triumphe in spite of my brother." 
 Fortunately, Phelim had not made it any part of
 
 ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS. 273 
 
 his bet that he should not speak to himself an Irish 
 idiom, or that he should not think a bull. Resolved 
 to be as obstinately silent as a monk of La Trappe, 
 he once more shut himself up in his cell, and fell fast 
 asleep dreamed that fat bulls of Basan encompassed 
 him round about that he ran down a steep hill to 
 escape them that his foot slipped he rolled to 
 the bottom felt the bull's horns in his side heard 
 the bull bellowing in his ears wakened and found 
 Terence M'Dermod bellowing at his room door. 
 
 " Sir John Bull ! sir John Bull ! murder ! murder ! 
 my dear master, sir John Bull ! murder, robbery, and 
 reward ! let me in ! for the love of the holy Virgin ! 
 they are all after you ! " 
 
 " Who ? are you drunk, Terence ? " said sir John> 
 opening the door. 
 
 " No, but they are mad all mad." 
 
 "Who?" 
 
 " The constable. They are all mad entirely, and 
 the lord mayor, all along with your honour's making 
 me swear I would not tell your name. Sure they 
 are all coming armed in a body to put you in gaol for 
 a forgery, unless I run back and tell them the truth 
 will I?" 
 
 " First tell me the truth, blunderer ! " 
 
 " I'll make my affidavit I never blundered, plase 
 your honour, but just went to the merchant's, as you 
 ordered, with the draught, signed with the name I 
 swore not to utter till past twelve. I presents the 
 draught, and waits to be paid. ' Are you Mr. 
 O'Mooney's servant ? ' says one of the clerks after a
 
 274 ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS. 
 
 while. f No, sir, not at all, sir/ said I ; f I'm sir 
 John Bull's, at your service.' He puzzles and puzzles, 
 and asks me did I bring the draught, and was that 
 your writing at the bottom of it ? I still said it was 
 my master's writing, sir John Bull's, and no other,. 
 They whispered from one up to t'other, and then 
 said it was a forgery, as I overheard, and must go 
 before the mayor. With that, while the master, who 
 was called down to be examined as to his opinion, 
 was putting on his glasses to spell it out, I gives 
 them, one and all, the slip, and whips out of the 
 street door and home to give your honour notice, 
 and have been breaking my heart at the door this 
 half hour to make you hear and now you have it 
 all." 
 
 " I am in a worse dilemma now than when between 
 the horns of the bull," thought sir John : " I must 
 now either tell my real name, avow myself an Irish- 
 man, and so lose my bet, or else go to gaol." 
 
 He preferred going to gaol. He resolved to pre- 
 tend to be dumb, and he charged Terence not to 
 betray him. The officers of justice came to take 
 him up : sir John resigned himself to them, making 
 signs that he could not speak. He was carried 
 before a magistrate. The merchant had never seen 
 Mr. Phelim O'Mooney, but could swear to his hand- 
 writing and signature, having many of his letters 
 and draughts. The draught in question was pro- 
 duced. Sir John Bull would neither acknowledge 
 nor deny the signature, but in dumb show made 
 .signs of innocence. No art or persuasion could
 
 ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS. 275 
 
 make him speak; he kept his fingers on his lips. 
 One of the bailiffs offered to open sir John's mouth. 
 Sir John clenched his hand, in token that if they 
 used violence he knew his remedy. To the magis- 
 trate he was all bows and respect : but the law, in 
 spite of civility, must take its course. 
 
 Terence M'Dermod beat his breast, and called 
 upon all the saints in the Irish calender when he saw 
 the committal actually made out, and his dear master 
 given over to the constables. Nothing but his own 
 oath and his master's commanding eye, which was 
 fixed upon him at this instant, could have made him 
 forbear to utter, what he had never in his life been 
 before so strongly tempted to tell the truth. 
 
 Determined to win his wager, our hero suffered 
 himself to be carried to a lock-up house, and per- 
 sisted in keeping silence till the clock struck twelve ! 
 Then the charm was broken, and he spoke. He 
 began talking to himself, and singing as loud as he 
 possibly could. The next morning Terence, who 
 was no longer bound by his oath to conceal Phelim's 
 name, hastened to his master's correspondent in 
 town, told the whole story, and O'Mooney M'as 
 liberated. Having won his bet by his wit and 
 steadiness, he had now the prudence to give up these 
 adventuring schemes, to which he had so nearly 
 become a dupe ; he returned immediately to Ireland 
 to his brother, and determined to settle quietly to 
 business. His good brother paid him the hundred 
 guineas most joyfully, declaring that he had never 
 spent a hundred guineas better in his life than in
 
 276 ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS. 
 
 recovering a brother. Phelim had now conquered 
 his foolish dislike to trade : his brother took him 
 into partnership, and Phelim O'Mooney never re- 
 lapsed into sir John Bull. 
 
 CONCLUSION. 
 
 UNABLE any longer to support the tone of irony, 
 we joyfully speak in our own characters, and ex- 
 plicitly declare our opinion, that the Irish are an in- 
 genious, generous people ; that the bulls and blunders 
 of which they are accused are often imputable to 
 their neighbours, or that they are justifiable by 
 ancient precedents, or that they are produced by 
 their habits of using figurative and witty language. 
 By what their good -humour is produced we know 
 not; but that it exists we are certain. In Ireland, 
 the countenance and heart expand at the approach 
 of wit and humour : the poorest labourer forgets his 
 poverty and toil in the pleasure of enjoying a joke. 
 Amongst all classes of the people, provided no malice 
 is obviously meant, none is apprehended. That 
 such is the character of the majority of the nation 
 there cannot to us be a more convincing and satisfac- 
 tory proof than the manner in which a late publica- 
 tion * was received in Ireland. The Irish were the 
 first to laugh at the caricature of their ancient 
 foibles, and it was generally taken merely as good- 
 
 Castle Rackrent.
 
 ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS. 277 
 
 humoured raillery, not as insulting satire. If grati- 
 tude for this generosity has now betrayed us un- 
 awares into the language of panegyric, we may hope 
 for pardon from the liberal of both nations. Those 
 who are thoroughly acquainted witli Ireland will 
 most readily acknowledge the justice of our praises ; 
 those who are ignorant of the country will not, per- 
 haps, be displeased to have their knowledge of the 
 people of Ireland extended. Many foreign pictures 
 of Irishmen are as grotesque and absurd as the 
 Chinese pictures of lions : having never seen that 
 animal, the Chinese can paint him only from the de- 
 scriptions of voyagers, which are sometimes igno- 
 rantly, sometimes wantonly exaggerated. 
 
 In M. de Voltaire's Age of Lewis the Fourteenth 
 we find the following passage : " Some nations 
 seem made to be subject to others. The English 
 have always had over the Irish the superiority of 
 genius, wealth, and arms. The superiority which 
 Ihe whites have over the negroes" * 
 
 A note in a subsequent edition informs us, that 
 the injurious expression " The superiority which 
 the whites have over the negroes," was erased by M. 
 de Voltaire ; and his editor subjoins his own opinion. 
 " The nearly savage state in which Ireland was 
 when she was conquered, her superstition, the op- 
 pression exercised by the English, the religious 
 
 * " II y a des nations don't 1'une semble faite pour etre 
 soumi.se a 1'autre. 1/es Anglois ont tou jours eu sur les Irlandois 
 la sup6riorite du genie, des richesses, et des armes. La supt* 
 rioritc quc les llancs ont sur les noirt,"
 
 278 ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS. 
 
 fanaticism which divides the Irish into two hostile 
 nations, such were the causes which have held down 
 this people in depression and weakness. Religious 
 hatreds are appeased, and this country has recovered 
 her liberty. The Irish no longer yield to the 
 English, either in industry or in information."* 
 
 The last sentence of this note might, if it had 
 reached the eyes or ears of the incensed Irish 
 historian, Mr. O'Halloran, have assuaged his wrath 
 against Voltaire for the unguarded expression in the 
 text ; unless the amor patriae of the historian, like 
 the amour propre of some individuals, instead of 
 being gratified by congratulations on their improve- 
 ment, should be intent upon demonstrating that 
 there never was any thing to improve. As we were 
 neither born nor bred in Ireland, we cannot be sup- 
 posed to possess this amor patriae in its full force : 
 we profess to be attached to the country only for its 
 merits; we acknowledge that it is a matter of in- 
 difference to us whether the Irish derive their origin 
 from the Spaniards, or the Milesians, or the Welsh : 
 
 * " On lisait dans les premieres Editions, la superiority que 
 les blancs out sur les negres. M. de Voltaire effafa cette ex- 
 pression injurieuse. L'etat presque sauvage ou etoit 1'Irlande 
 lorsqu'elle fut conquise, la superstition, 1'oppression exercee par 
 les Angolis, le fanatisme religieux qui divise les Irlandois en 
 deux nations ennemies, telles sont les causes qui ont retenues ce 
 peuple dans 1'abaissement et dans ibiblesse. Les haines re- 
 ligieuses se sont assoupies, et elle a repris sa liberte. Les Irlan- 
 dois ne le cedent pint aux Anglois^ ni en Industrie ni en fumi- 
 era."
 
 ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS. 279 
 
 we are not so violently anxious as we ought to be to 
 determine whether or not the language spoken by 
 the Phoenician slave, in Terence's play, was Irish ; 
 nay, we should not break our hearts if it could never 
 be satisfactorily proved that Albion is only another 
 name for Ireland.* We moreover candidly confess 
 that we are more interested in the fate of the present 
 race of its inhabitants than in the historian of St. 
 Patrick, St. Facharis, St. Cormuc ; the renowned 
 Brien Boru; Tireldach, king of Connaught; M'Mur- 
 rough, king of Leinster ; Diarmod ; Righ-Damnha ; 
 Labra-Loing-seach ; Tighermas; Ollamh-Foldha ; 
 the M'Giolla-Phadraigs ; or even the great William 
 of Ogham ; and by this declaration we have no fear 
 of giving offence to any but rusty antiquaries. We 
 think it somewhat more to the honour of Ireland to 
 enumerate the names of some of the men of genius 
 whom she has produced : Milton and Shakspeare 
 stand unrivalled; but Ireland can boast of Usher, 
 Boyle, Denham, Congreve, Molyneux, Farquhar, sir 
 Richard Steele, Bickerstaff, sir Hans Sloane, Berke- 
 ley, Orrery, Parnel, Swift, T. Sheridan, Welsham, 
 Bryan Robinson, Goldsmith, Sterne, Johnson,t 
 Tickel, Brooke, Zeland, Hussey Burgh, three Ha- 
 miltons, Young, Charlemont, Macklin, Murphy, 
 Mrs. Sheridan,}: Francis Sheridan, Kirwan, Brinsley 
 Sheridan, and Burke. 
 
 " See O'Halloran's History of Ireland. 
 
 f Author of Chrysal, or Adventurers of a Guinea. 
 
 ; Author of the beautiful moral tale Nourjahad.
 
 280 ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS. 
 
 We enter into no invidious comparisons : it is our 
 sincere wish to conciliate both countries ; and if in 
 this slight essay we should succeed in diffusing a 
 more just and enlarged idea of the Irish than has 
 been generally entertained, we hope the English will 
 deem it not an unacceptable service. Whatever 
 might have been the policy of the English nation 
 towards Ireland whilst she was a separate kingdom, 
 since the union it can no longer be her wish to 
 depreciate the talents or ridicule the language of 
 Hibernians. One of the Czars of Russia used to 
 take the cap and bells from his fool, and place it on 
 the head of any of his subjects whom he wished to 
 disgrace. The idea of extending such a punish- 
 ment to a whole nation was ingenious and magnani- 
 mous ; but England cannot now put it into execu- 
 tion towards Ireland. Would it not be a practical 
 bull to place the bells upon her own imperial head ? 
 
 1801.
 
 APPENDIX. 
 
 The following collection of Foreign Bulls was 
 given us by a man of letters, who is now father of 
 the French Academy.
 
 RECUEIL DE BETISES. 
 
 TOUTES les nations ont des contes plaisans de betises 
 echappees non seulement a des personnes vraiment 
 betes, mais aux distractions de gens qui ne sont pas 
 sans esprit. Les Italiens ont leurs sproposili, leur 
 arlequin ses balourdises, les Anglois leurs blunders, 
 les Irlandois leurs bulls. 
 
 Mademoiselle Maria Edgeworth ayant fait un 
 recueil de ces derniers, je prends la liberte de lui 
 offrir un petit recueil de nos betises qui meritent le 
 nom qu'elles portent aussi bien que les Irish bulls. 
 J'ai fait autrefois une dissertation ou je recherchois 
 quelle etoit la cause du rire qu'excitent les betises, 
 et dans laquelle j'appuyois mon explication de beau- 
 coup d'exemples et peut-etre ineme du mien sans 
 m'en appercevoir ; mais la femme d'esprit a qui j'ai 
 adresse cette folie 1'a perdue, et je n'ai pas pu la 
 recouvrer. 
 
 Je me souviens seulement que j'y prouvois savam- 
 menl que le rire excite par les betises est 1'effet du 
 contraste que nous saisissons entre 1'effort que fait 
 1'homme qui dit la betise, et le mauvais succes de son 
 effort. J'assimilois la marche de 1'esprit dans celui 
 qui dit une betise, a ce qui arrive a un homme qui 
 cherchant a marcher legerement sur un pave glissant,
 
 284 
 
 APPENDIX. 
 
 tombe lourdement, ou aux tours mal-adroit du pail- 
 lasse de la foire. Si 1'on veut examiner les betises 
 rassemblees ici, on y trouvera toujours un effort 
 manque de ce genre. 
 
 Un homme, dont la femme avoit ete saignee, in- 
 terroge le lendemain pourquoi elle ne paroissoit pas 
 a table, repondit : Elle garde la chambre : Morand 
 1'a saignee hier, et une saignee afFoiblit beaucoup 
 quand elle est faite par un habile homme. 
 
 M. de Baville, intendant de Languedoc, avoit un 
 secretaire fort bete : il se servoit un jour de lui pour 
 ecrire au rainistre sur des aifaires tres importantes et 
 dicta ces mots : " Ne soyez point surpris de ce que 
 je me sers d'une main etrangere pour vous ecrire 
 sur cet objet. Mon secretaire est si bete qu'a ce 
 moment meme il ne s'apper^oit pas que je vous parle 
 de lui." 
 
 On demandoit a un abbe de Laval Montmoreney 
 qtiel age avoit son frere le marechal dont il etoit 
 1'aine. " Dans deux ans," dit-il, " nous serons du 
 meme age." 
 
 On se preparoit a observer une eclipse, et le roi 
 devoit assister a 1'observation. M. de Jonville disoit 
 a M. Cassini " N'attendra-t-on pas le roi pour 
 commencer 1'eclipse ?" 
 
 Une femme du peuple qui avoit une petite fille 
 malade avec le transport au cerveau, disoit au me- 
 decin, " Ah, monsieur, si vous 1'aviez entendu cette 
 nuit elle a deraisonnee comme une grande per- 
 sonne." 
 
 Un homme avoit parie 25 louis qu'il traverseroit le
 
 APPENDIX. 285 
 
 grand bassin des Thuileries par un froid tres rigou- 
 reux ; il alia jusqu'au milieu, renon9a a son entre- 
 prise, et revint par le meme chemin en disant, 
 " J'aime mieux perdre vingt-cinq louis que d'avoir 
 une fluxion de poitrine." 
 
 Un homtne voyoit venir de loin un medecin de sa 
 connoissance qui 1'avoit traite plusieurs annees aupa- 
 ravant dans une maladie ; il se detourna, et caclia 
 son visage pour n'etre pas reconnu. On lui deman- 
 doit " Pourquoi." " C'est," dit-il, " que je suis 
 honteux devant lui de ce qu'il y a fort long terns que 
 je n'ai ete nialade." 
 
 On demande a un homme qui vouloit vendre un 
 cheval, " Votre cheval est-il peureux ? " " Oh, 
 point du tout," repond-il ; " il vient de passer plu- 
 sieurs nuits tout seul dans son ecurie." 
 
 Dans une querelle entre un pere et son fils, le pere 
 reprochoit a celui-ci son ingratitude. "Je ne vous 
 ai point d'obligations," disoit le fils ; " vous m'avez 
 fait beaucoup de tort ; si vous n'etiez point ne, je 
 serois a present l'h eri tier de mon grand pere." 
 
 Un avare faisant son testament, se fit lui-meme 
 son heritier. 
 
 Un homme voyoit un bateau si charge que les 
 bords en etoient a fleur d'eau : " Ma foi," dit-il, " si 
 la riviere etoit un pen plus haute le bateau iroit a 
 fond." 
 
 M. Hume, dans son histoire d'Angleterre, parlant 
 de la conspiration attribuee aux Catholiques en 167^ 
 sous Charles II. rapporte le mot d'un chevalier 
 Player qui felicitoit la ville des precautions qu'elle
 
 286 APPENDIX. 
 
 avoit prises " Et sans lesquelles," disoit-il, " tous 
 les citoyens auroient couru risque de se trouver 
 egorges le lendemain a leur reveil." 
 
 Le maire d'une petite ville, entendant une que- 
 relle dans la rue au milieu de la nuit, se leve du lit, 
 et ouvrant la fenetre, crie aux passans, " Messieurs, 
 me leverai-je ? " 
 
 Un sot faisoit compliment a une demoiselle dont 
 la mere venoit de se marier en secondes noces avec 
 un ancien ami de la maison " Mademoiselle," lui 
 dit-il, " je suis ravi de ce que monsieur votre pere 
 vient d'epouser madame votre mere." 
 
 Racine, qui avoit ete toute sa vie courtisan tres 
 attentif, etoit enterre a Port Royal des Champs dont 
 les solitaires s'etoient attires 1'indignation de Louis 
 XIV. M. de Boissy, celebre par ses distractions, 
 disoit, " Racine n'auroit pas fait cela de son vivant." 
 
 On racontait dans une conversation que monsieur 
 de Buffon avoit disseque une de ses cousines, et une 
 femme se recrioit sur 1'inhumanite de 1'anatomiste. 
 M. de Mairan lui dit, " Mais, tnadame, elle etoit 
 morte." 
 
 On parloit avec admiration de la belle vieillesse 
 d'un homme de quatre vingt dix ans, quelqu'un 
 dit " Cela vous etonne, messieurs ; si mon pere 
 n'etoit pas mort, il auroit a present cent ans ac- 
 complis." 
 
 Mouet, de 1'opera comique, conte qu'arrivant de 
 Lyon, et ne voulant pas qu'on sut qu'il etoit a Paris, 
 il recommanda a son laquais, suppose qu'il fut ren- 
 contre, de dire qu'il etoit a Lyon. Le laquais trouve
 
 APPENDIX. 287 
 
 nn ami de son maitre, qui lui en demande des nou- 
 velles. " II est a Lyon," dit-il, " et il ne sera de 
 retour que la semaine prochaine." " Mais," con- 
 tinue le questionneur, " que portez vous la ? " " Ce 
 sont quelques provisions qu'il m'a envtiye chercher 
 pour son diner." 
 
 Un homme examinoit un dessin representant la 
 coupe d'un vaisseau construit en Hollande ; quel- 
 qu'un lui dit, " Est-ce que monsieur entend le 
 Hollandois." 
 
 Un homme de loi disoit qu'on ne pouvait pas faire 
 une stipulation valable avec un muet. Un des ecou- 
 tans lui dit, " Monsieur le docteur, et avec un 
 boiteux, seroit-elle bonne ? " 
 
 Un homme se plaignoit que le maison de son voison 
 lui otoit la vue d'une de ses fenetres j un autre lui 
 dit, " Vous avez un remede ; faites murer cette 
 fenetre." 
 
 Un homme ayant ecrit a sa maitresse, avoit glisse 
 le billet sous la porte, et puis s'avisant que la fille 
 ne pourroit pas s'en appercevoir il en ecrivit un autre 
 en ces termes, " J'ai mis un billet sous votre porte ; 
 prenez-y garde quand vous sortirez." 
 
 Un homme etant sur le point de marier sa fille 
 unique, se brouille avec le pretendant, et dans sa 
 colere il dit, " Non, monsieur, vous ne serez jamais 
 mon gendre, et quand j'aurois cent filles uniques, je 
 ne vous en donnerois pas une." 
 
 On avoit re9U a la grande poste un lettre avec 
 cette adresse, a Monsieur mon Jils, Rue, $c. On 
 alloit la mettre au rebut ; un commis s'y oppose, et
 
 288 APPENDIX. 
 
 dit qu'on trouvera a qui la lettre s'adresse. Dix ou 
 douze jours se passent. On voit arriver un grand 
 benet, qui dit, "Messieurs, je viens savoir si on 
 n'auroit pas garde ici une lettre de mon cher pere ? " 
 " Oui, monsieur," luid it le commis, " la voila." On 
 prete ce trait a Bouret, fermier general. 
 
 Milord Albemarle etant aux eaux d'Aix-la-Cha- 
 pelle, et ne voulant pas etre connu, ordonna a uu 
 negre qui le servoit, si on lui deraandoit qui etoit son 
 maitre, de dire qu'il etoit Fra^ois. On ne manqua 
 pas de faire la question au noir, qui repondit, " Mon 
 maitre est Francois, et mot aussi." 
 
 Un marchand, en finissant d'ecrire une lettre a un 
 de ses correspondans, inourut subitement. Son com- 
 mis ajouta en P. S. " Depuis ma lettre ecrite je suis 
 mort ce matin. Mardi au soir ^eme," &c. 
 
 Un petit marchand pretendoit avoir achete trois 
 sols ce qu'il vendoit pour deux. On lui represente 
 que ce commerce le ruinera "Ah," dit-il, " je me 
 sauve sur la quantite." 
 
 Le chevalier de Lorenzi, etant a Florence, etoit 
 alle se promener avec trois de ses amis a quelques 
 lieues de la ville, a pied. Us revenoient fort las ; la 
 nuit approchoit ; il veut se reposer : on lui dit qu'il 
 restoit quatres milles a faire " Oh," dit-il, " nous 
 sommes quatres ; ce n'est qu'un mille chacun." 
 
 On pretend qu'un fermier general voulant s'eviter 
 1'ennui ou s'epargner les frais des lettres dont on 
 1'accabloit au nouvel an, ecrivoit au mois de Decem- 
 bre a tous les employes de son departement qu'il les 
 dispensoit du ceremonial, et que ceux-ci lui repon-
 
 APPENDIX. 289 
 
 deroient pour 1'assurer qu'ils se conformeroient ses 
 ordres. 
 
 Maupertuis faisoit instruire un perroquet par son 
 laquais, et vouloit qu'on lui apprit des mots extraor- 
 dinaires. Depuis deux ans le laquais, enseignoit a 
 1'animal a dire monomotapa, et le perroquet n'en disoit 
 que des syllabes separees. Maupertuis faisoit des 
 reproches au laquais ; " Oh, monsieur/' dit celui-ci, 
 " cela ne vas pas si vite ; je lui ai d'abord appris mo 
 et puis no." " Vous etes un bete," dit Maupertuis, 
 " il faut lui dire le mot en tier." " Monsieur," re- 
 prend le laquais, "il faut lui donner le temps de 
 comprendre." 
 
 II y a en Italien une lettre pleine de sproposifi 
 assez plaisans. Un homme ecrit a son ami, "Ab- 
 biamo avuto un famosissimo tremmoto che se per la 
 misericordia de Dio avesse durato una mezza hora di 
 piu, saremmo tutti andati al paradiso che Dio ce ne 
 liberi. Vi mando quatordici peri e sono tutti boni 
 christiani. A questa fiera i porci sono saliti al 
 cielo. O ricevete, o non ricevete questa, datemene 
 aviso."
 
 AW 
 
 ESSAY 
 
 OK THE 
 
 NOBLE SCIENCE OF SELF-JUSTIFICATION. 
 
 " For which an eloquence that aims to vex, 
 
 With native tropes of anger arms the sex." Parnell. 
 
 ENDOWED as the fair sex indisputably are, with a 
 natural genius for the invaluable art of self-justifica- 
 tion, it may not be displeasing to them to see its 
 rising perfection evinced by an attempt to reduce it 
 to a science. Possessed, as are all the fair daughters 
 of Eve, of an hereditary propensity, transmitted to 
 them undiminished through succeeding generations, 
 to be " soon moved with slightest touch of blame ; " 
 very little precept and practice will confirm them in 
 the habit, and instruct them in all the maxims, of 
 self-j ustification. 
 
 Candid pupil, you will readily accede to my first 
 and fundamental axiom that a lady can do no 
 wrong. 
 
 But simple as this maxim may appear, and suited 
 to the level of the meanest capacity, the talent of 
 applying it on all the important, but more especially 
 on all the most trivial, occurrences of domestic life, 
 so as to secure private peace and public dominion, 
 has hitherto been monopolized by the female adepts 
 in the art of self-justification. 
 u2
 
 292 ESSAY ON SELF- JUSTIFICATION. 
 
 Excuse me for insinuating by this expression, that 
 there may yet be amongst you some novices. To 
 these, if any such, I principally address myself. 
 
 And now, lest fired with ambition you lose all by 
 aiming at too much, let me explain and limit my 
 first principle, " That you can do no wrong." You 
 must be aware that real perfection is beyond the 
 reach of mortals, nor would I have you aim at it ; 
 indeed it is not in any degree necessary to our 
 purpose. You have heard of the established belief 
 in the infallibility of the sovereign pontiff, which 
 prevailed not many centuries ago : if man was 
 allowed to be infallible, I see no reason why the 
 same privilege should not be extended to woman ; 
 but times have changed ; and since the happy age 
 of credulity is past, leave the opinions of men to 
 their natural perversity their actions are the best 
 test of their faith. Instead then of a belief in 
 your infallibility, endeavour to enforce implicit sub- 
 mission to your authority. This will give you in- 
 finitely less trouble, and will answer your purpose as 
 well. 
 
 Right and wrong, if we go to the foundation of 
 things, are, as casuists tell us, really words of very 
 dubious signification, perpetually varying with cus- 
 tom and fashion, and to be adjusted ultimately by no 
 other standards but opinion and force. Obtain power, 
 then, by all means ; power is the law of man ; make 
 it yours. 
 
 But to return from a frivolous disquisition about 
 right, let me teach you the art of defending the
 
 ESSAY ON SELF- JUSTIFICATION. 293 
 
 wrong. After having thus pointed out to you the 
 glorious end of your labours, I must now instruct 
 you ia the equally glorious means. 
 
 For the advantage of my subject I address myself 
 chiefly to married ladies ; but those who have not as 
 yet the good fortune to have that common enemy, a 
 husband, to combat, may in the mean time practise 
 my precepts upon their fathers, brothers, and female 
 friends ; with caution, however, lest by discovering 
 their arms too soon, they preclude themselves from 
 the power of using them to the fullest advantage 
 hereafter. I therefore recommend it to them to 
 prefer, with a philosophical moderation, the future 
 to the present. 
 
 Timid brides, you have, probably, hitherto been 
 addressed as angels. Prepare for the time when 
 you shall again become mortal. Take the alarm at 
 the first approach of blame ; at the first hint of a 
 discovery that you are any thing less than infallible : 
 contradict, debate, justify, recriminate, rage, 
 weep, swoon, do any thing but yield to conviction. 
 
 I take it for granted that you have already ac- 
 quired sufficient command of voice ; you need not 
 study its compass ; going beyond its pitch has a 
 peculiarly happy effect upon some occasions. But 
 are you voluble enough to drown all sense in a torrent 
 of words? Can you be loud enough to overpower 
 the voice of all who shall attempt to interrupt or 
 contradict you ? Are you mistress of the petulant, 
 the peevish, and the sullen tone ? Have you prac- 
 tised the sharpness which provokes retort, and the
 
 294 ESSAY ON SELF-JUSTIFICATION. 
 
 continual monotony which by setting your adversary 
 to sleep effectually precludes reply ? an event which 
 is always to be considered as decisive of the victory, 
 or at least as reducing it to a drawn battle : you 
 and Somnus divide the prize. 
 
 Thus prepared for an engagement, you will next, 
 if you have not already done it, study the weak part 
 of the character of your enemy your husband, I 
 mean : if he be a man of high spirit, jealous of com- 
 mand and impatient of control, one who decides for 
 himself, and who is little troubled with the insanity 
 of minding what the world says of him, you must 
 proceed with extreme circumspection ; you must not 
 dare to provoke the combined forces of the enemy to 
 a regular engagement, but harass him with perpetual 
 petty skirmishes : in these, though you gain little at 
 a time, you will gradually weary the patience, and 
 break the spirit of your opponent. If he be a man of 
 spirit, he must also be generous ; and what man of 
 generosity will contend for trifles with a woman who 
 submits to him in all affairs of consequence, who is 
 in his power, who is weak, and who loves him ? 
 
 " Can superior with inferior power contend ? " 
 No ; the spirit of a lion is not to be roused by the 
 teasing of an insect. 
 
 But such a man as I have described, besides being 
 as generous as he is brave, will probably be of an 
 active temper : then you have an inestimable advan- 
 tage ; for he will set a high value upon a thing for 
 which you have none time ; he will acknowledge 
 the force of your arguments merely from a dread of
 
 ESSAY ON SELF-JUSTIFICATION. 295 
 
 their length ; he will yield to you in trifles, parti- 
 cularly in trifles which do not militate against his 
 authority; not out of regard for you, but for his 
 time ; for what man can prevail upon himself to 
 debate three hours about what could be as well 
 decided in three minutes ? 
 
 Lest amongst infinite variety the difficulty of im- 
 mediate selection should at first perplex you, let me 
 point out that matters of taste will afford you, of 
 all others, the most ample and incessant subjects of 
 debate. Here you have no criterion to appeal to. 
 Upon the same principle, next to matters of taste, 
 points of opinion will afford the most constant ex- 
 ercise to your talents. Here you will have an oppor- 
 tunity of citing the opinions of all the living and dead 
 you have ever known, besides the dear privilege of 
 repeating continually : "Nay, you must allow that." 
 Or, " You can't deny Mi*, for it's the universal opinion 
 every body says so ! every body thinks so ! I wonder 
 to hear you express such an opinion ! Nobody but 
 yourself is of that way of thinking ! " with innumer- 
 able other phrases, with which a slight attention to 
 polite conversation will furnish you. This mode of 
 opposing authority to argument, and assertion to 
 proof, is of such universal utility, that I pray you to 
 practise it. 
 
 If the point in dispute be some opinion relative to 
 your character or disposition, allow in general, that 
 " you are sure you have a great many faults;" but 
 to every specific charge, reply, " Well, I am sure I 
 don't know, but I did not think that was one of my
 
 296 ESSAY ON SELF-JUSTIFICATION. 
 
 faults ! nobody ever accused me of that before ! Nay, 
 I was always remarkable for the contrary ; at least 
 before I was acquainted with you, sir : in my own 
 family I was always remarkable for the contrary; 
 ask any of my own friends ; ask any of them ; they 
 must know me best." 
 
 But if, instead of attacking the material parts of 
 your character, your husband should merely presume 
 to advert to your manners, to some slight personal 
 habit which might be made more agreeable to him ; 
 prove, in the first place, that it is his fault that it is 
 not agreeable to him ; ask which is most to blame, 
 " she who ceases to please, or he who ceases to be 
 pleased" * His eyes are changed, or opened. But 
 it may perhaps have been a matter almost of indif- 
 ference to him, till you undertook its defence : then 
 make it of consequence by rising in eagerness, in 
 proportion to the insignificance of your object ; if he 
 can draw consequences, this will be an excellent 
 lesson : if you are so tender of blame in the veriest 
 trifles, how unimpeachable must you be in matters of 
 importance. As to personal habits, begin by denying 
 that you have any ; or in the paradoxical language of 
 Rousseau t declare that the only habit you have is 
 the habit of having none : as all personal habits, if 
 they have been of any long standing, must have 
 become involuntary, the unconscious culprit may 
 assert her innocence without hazarding her veracity. 
 
 However, if you happen to be detected in the 
 
 * Marmontel. -j- Emilius and Sophia.
 
 ESSAY ON SELF-JUSTIFICATION. 297 
 
 very fact, and a person cries, " Now, now, you are 
 doing it !" submit, but declare at the same moment 
 " That it is the very first time in your whole life 
 that you were ever known to be guilty of it ; and 
 therefore it can be no habit, and of course nowise 
 reprehensible." 
 
 Extend the rage for vindication to all the objects 
 which the most remotely concern you ; take even in- 
 animate objects under your protection. Your dress, 
 your furniture, your property, every thing which is 
 or has been yours defend, and this upon the prin- 
 ciples of the soundest philosophy; each of these things 
 all compose a part of your personal merit ; * all that 
 connected the most distantly with your idea gives 
 pleasure or pain to others, becomes an object of blame 
 or praise, and consequently claims your support or 
 vindication. 
 
 In the course of the management of your house, 
 children, family, and affairs, probably some few errors 
 of omission or commission may strike your husband's 
 pervading eye , but these errors, admitting them to 
 be errors, you will never, if you please, allow to be 
 charged to any deficiency in memory, judgment, or 
 activity, on your part. 
 
 There are surely people enough around you to 
 divide and share the blame; send it from one to 
 another, till at last, by universal rejection, it is 
 proved to belong to nobody. You will say, however, 
 that facts remain unalterable ; and that in some un- 
 
 * Vide Hume.
 
 298 ESSAY ON SELF- JUSTIFICATION. 
 
 lucky instance, in the changes and chances of human 
 affairs, you may be proved to have been to blame. 
 Some stubborn evidence may appear against you ; 
 still you may prove an alibi, or balance the evidence. 
 There is nothing equal to balancing evidence ; doubt 
 is, you know, the most philosophic state of the human 
 mind, and it will be kind of you to keep your hus- 
 band perpetually in this sceptical state. 
 
 Indeed the short method of denying absolutely all 
 blameable facts, I should recommend to pupils as the 
 best; and if in the beginning of their career they 
 may startle at this mode, let them depend upon it 
 that in their future practice it must become perfectly 
 familiar. The nice distinction of simulation and dis- 
 simulation depends but on the trick of a syllable; 
 palliation and extenuation are universally allowable 
 in self-defence ; prevarication inevitably follows, and 
 falsehood " is but in the next degree." 
 
 Yet I would not destroy this nicety of conscience 
 too soon. It may be of use in your first setting out, 
 because you must establish credit ; in proportion to 
 your credit will be the value of your future assevera- 
 tions. 
 
 In the mean time, however, argument and debate 
 are allowed to the most rigid moralist. You can never 
 perjure yourself by swearing to a false opinion. 
 
 I come now to the art of reasoning: don't be 
 alarmed at the name of reasoning, fair pupils ; I will 
 explain to you my meaning. 
 
 If, instead of the fiery-tempered being I formerly 
 described, you should fortunately be connected with
 
 ESSAY ON SELF-JUSTIFICATION. 299 
 
 a man, who, having formed a justly high opinion of 
 your sex, should propose to treat you as his equal, 
 and who in any little dispute which might arise 
 between you should desire no other arbiter than 
 reason ; triumph in his mistaken candour, regularly 
 appeal to the decision of reason at the beginning of 
 every contest, and deny its jurisdiction at the con- 
 clusion. I take it for granted that you will be on the 
 wrong side of every question, and indeed, in general, 
 I advise you to choose the wrong side of an argument 
 to defend ; whilst you are young in the science, it 
 will afford the best exercise, and, as you improve, the 
 best display of your talents. 
 
 If, then, reasonable pupils, you would succeed in 
 argument, attend to the following instructions. 
 
 Begin by preventing, if possible, the specific state- 
 ment of any position, or, if reduced to it, use the 
 most general terms, and take advantage of the ambi- 
 guity which all languages and which most philoso- 
 phers allow. Above all things, shun definitions ; 
 they will prove fatal to you ; for two persons of sense 
 and candour, who define their terms, cannot argue 
 long without either convincing, or being convinced, 
 or parting in equal good-humour ; to prevent which, 
 go over and over the same ground, wander as wide 
 as possible from the point, but always with a view to 
 return at last precisely to the same spot from which 
 you set out. I should remark to you, that the choice 
 of your weapons is a circumstance much to be at- 
 tended to: choose always those which your adversary 
 cannot use. If your husband is a man of wit, you
 
 300 ESSAY ON SELF-JUSTIFICATION. 
 
 will of course undervalue a talent which is never con- 
 nected with judgment : " for your part, you do not 
 presume to contend with him in wit." 
 
 But if he be a sober-minded man, who will go link 
 by link along the chain of an argument, follow him 
 at first, till he grows so intent that he does not per- 
 ceive whether you follow him or not ; then slide back 
 to your own station, and when with perverse patience 
 he has at last reached the last link of the chain, with 
 one electric shock of wit make him quit his hold, 
 and strike him to the ground in an instant. Depend 
 upon the sympathy of the spectators, for to one who 
 can understand reason, you will find ten who admire 
 wit. 
 
 But if you should not be blessed with " a ready 
 wit," if demonstration should in the mean time stare 
 you in the face, do not be in the least alarmed an- 
 ticipate the blow. Whilst you have it yet in your 
 power, rise with becoming magnanimity, and cry, " I 
 give it up ! I give it up ! La! let us say no more 
 about it ; I do so hate disputing about trifles. I give 
 it up ! " Before an explanation on the word trifle 
 can take place, quit the room with flying colours. 
 
 If you are a woman of sentiment and eloquence, 
 you have advantages of which I scarcely need apprise 
 you. From the understanding of a man, you have 
 always an appeal to his heart, or, if not, to his affec- 
 tion, to his weakness. If you have the good fortune 
 to be married to a weak man, always choose the mo- 
 ment to argue with him when you have a full audi- 
 ence. Trust to the sublime power of numbers; it
 
 ESSAY ON SELF-JUSTIFICATION. 301 
 
 will be of use even to excite your own enthusiasm in 
 debate ; then as the scene advances, talk of his 
 cruelty, and your sensibility, and sink with " be- 
 coming woe " into the pathos of injured innocence. 
 
 Besides the heart and the weakness of your op- 
 ponent, you have still another chance, in ruffling his 
 temper ; which, in the course of a long conversation, 
 you will have a fair opportunity of trying ; and if 
 for philosophers will sometimes grow warm in the 
 defence of truth if he should grow absolutely angry, 
 you will in the same proportion grow calm, and 
 wonder at his rage, though you well know it has been 
 created by your own provocation. The by-standers, 
 seeing anger without any adequate cause, will all be 
 of your side. 
 
 Nothing provokes an irascible man, interested in 
 debate, and possessed of an opinion of his own elo- 
 quence, so much as to see the attention of his hearers 
 go from him : you will then, when he flatters himself 
 that he has just fixed your eye with his very best 
 augument, suddenly grow absent : your house affairs 
 must call you hence or you have directions to give 
 to your children or the room is too hot, or too cold 
 the window must be opened or door shut or the 
 candle wants snuffing. Nay, without these inter- 
 ruptions, the simple motion of your eye may provoke 
 a speaker ; a butterfly, or the figure in a carpet may 
 engage your attention in preference to him ; or if 
 these objects be absent, the simply averting your eye, 
 looking through the window in quest of outward 
 objects, will show that your mind has not been
 
 302 ESSAY ON SELF-JUSTIFICATION. 
 
 abstracted, and will display to him at least your wish 
 of not attending. He may, however, possibly have 
 lost the habit of watching your eye for approbation ; 
 then you may assault his ear : if all other resources 
 fail, beat with your foot that dead march of the 
 spirits, that incessant tattoo, which so well deserves 
 its name. Marvellous must be the patience of the 
 much-enduring man whom some or other of these 
 devices do not provoke : slight causes often produce 
 great effects ; the simple scratching of a pick-axe, 
 properly applied to certain veins in a mine, will 
 cause the most dreadful explosions. 
 
 Hitherto we have only professed to teach the de- 
 fensive ; let me now recommend to you the offensive 
 part of the art of justification. As a supplement 
 to reasoning comes recrimination : the pleasure of 
 proving that you are right is surely incomplete till 
 you have proved that your adversary is wrong ; this 
 might have been a secondary, let it now become a 
 primary object with you ; rest your own defence on 
 it for farther security: you are no longer to consider 
 yourself as obliged either to deny, palliate, argue, or 
 declaim, but simply to justify yourself by criminating 
 another; all merit, you know, is judged of by com- 
 parison. In the art of recrimination, your memory 
 will be of the highest service to you; for you are to 
 open and keep an aqcount-current of all the faults, 
 mistakes, neglects, unkindnesses of those you live 
 with ; these you are to state against your own : I 
 need not tell you that the balance will always be in 
 your favour. In stating matters of opinion, produce
 
 ESSAY ON SELF-JUSTIFICATION. 303 
 
 the words of the very same person which passed 
 days, months, years before, in contradiction to what 
 he is then saying. By displacing, disjointing words 
 and sentences, by misunderstanding the whole, or 
 quoting only a part of what has been said, you may 
 convict any man of inconsistency, particularly if he 
 be a man of genius and feeling; for he speaks ge- 
 nerally from the impulse of the moment, and of all 
 others can the least bear to be charged with para- 
 doxes. So far for a husband. 
 
 Recriminating is also of sovereign use in the 
 quarrels of friends ; no friend is so perfectly equable, 
 so ardent in affection, so nice in punctilio, as never 
 to offend: then "Note his faults, and con them all 
 by rote." Say you can forgive, but you can never 
 forget ; and surely it is much more generous to 
 forgive and remember than to forgive and forget. 
 On every new alarm, call the unburied ghosts from 
 former fields of battle ; range them in tremendous 
 array, call them one by one to witness against the 
 conscience of your enemy, and ere the battle is 
 begun take from him all courage to engage. 
 
 There is one case I must observe to you in which 
 recrimination has peculiar poignancy. If you have 
 had it in your power to confer obligations on any 
 one, never cease reminding them of it : and let them 
 feel that you have acquired an indefeasible right to 
 reproach them without a possibility of their retorting. 
 It is a maxim with some sentimental people, " To 
 treat their servants as if they were their friends in 
 distress." I have observed that people of this cast
 
 304 ESSAY ON SELF-JUSTIFICATION. 
 
 make themselves amends, by treating their friends in 
 distress as if they were their servants. 
 
 Apply this maxim you may do it a thousand 
 ways, especially in company. In general conver- 
 sation, where every one is supposed to be on a foot- 
 ing, if any of your humble companions should 
 presume to hazard an opinion contrary to yours, and 
 should modestly begin with, " 1 think ;" look as the 
 man did when he said to his servant, " You think, 
 sir what business have you to think ? " 
 
 Never fear to lose a friend by the habits which I 
 recommend: reconciliations, as you have often heard 
 it said reconciliations, are the cement of friendship ; 
 therefore friends should quarrel to strengthen their 
 attachment, and offend each other for the pleasure of 
 being reconciled. 
 
 I beg pardon for disgressing : I \vas, I believe, 
 talking of your husband, not of your friend I have 
 gone far out of the way. 
 
 If in your debates with your husband you should 
 want " eloquence to vex him," the dull prolixity of 
 narration, joined to the complaining monotony of 
 voice which I formerly recommended, will supply its 
 place, and have the desired effect : Somnus will 
 prove propitious ; then, ever and anon as the soporific 
 charm begins to work, rouse him with interroga- 
 tories, such as " Did not you say so ? Don't you 
 remember ? Only answer me that ! " 
 
 By-the-bye, interrogatories artfully put may lead 
 an unsuspicious reasoner, you know, always to your 
 own conclusion.
 
 ESSAY ON SELF-JUSTIFICATION. 305 
 
 In addition to the patience, philosophy, and other 
 good things which Socrates learned from his M'ife 
 perhaps she taught him this mode of reasoning. 
 
 But, after all, the precepts of art and even the 
 natural susceptibility of your tempers will avail you 
 little in the sublime of our science if you cannot 
 command that ready enthusiasm which will make 
 you enter into the part you are acting ; that happy 
 imagination which shall make you believe all you 
 fear and all you invent. 
 
 Who is there amongst you who cannot or who will 
 not justify when they are accused ? Vulgar talent ! 
 the sublime of our science is to justify before we are 
 accused. There is no reptile so vile but what will 
 turn when it is trodden on ; but of a nicer sense and 
 nobler species are those whom nature has endowed 
 with antennae, which perceive and withdraw at the 
 distant approach of danger. Allow me another al- 
 lusion : similes cannot be crowded too close for a 
 female taste ; and analogy, I have heard, my fair 
 pupils, is your favourite mode of reasoning. 
 
 The sensitive plant is too vulgar an allusion ; but 
 if the truth of modern naturalists may be depended 
 upon, there is a plant which, instead of receding 
 timidly from the intrusive touch, angrily protrudes 
 its venomous juices upon all who presume to meddle 
 with it : do not you think this plant would be your 
 fittest emblem ? 
 
 Let me, however, recommend it to you, nice souls, 
 who, of the mimosa kind, " fear the dark cloud, and 
 feel the coming storm," to take the utmost precau- 
 x i
 
 306 ESSAY ON SELF-JUSTIFICATION. 
 
 tion lest the same susceptibility which you cherish as 
 the dear means to torment others should insensibly 
 become a torment to yourselves. 
 
 Distinguish then between sensibility and suscepti- 
 bility ; between the anxious solicitude not to give 
 offence, and the captious eagerness of vanity to prove 
 that it ought not to have been taken; distinguish 
 between the desire of praise and the horror of blame : 
 can any two things be more different than the wish 
 to improve, and the wish to demonstrate that you 
 have never been to blame ? 
 
 Observe, I only wish you to distinguish these 
 things in your own minds ; I would by no means 
 advise you to discontinue the laudable practice of 
 confounding them perpetually in speaking to others. 
 
 When you have nearly exhausted human patience 
 in explaining, justifying, vindicating ; when, in spite 
 of all the pains you have taken, you have more than 
 half betrayed your own vanity ; you have a never- 
 failing resource, in paying tribute to that of your 
 opponent, as thus : 
 
 " I am sure you must be sensible that I should 
 never take so much pains to justify myself if 1 were 
 indifferent to your opinion. I know that I ought 
 not to disturb myself with such trifles ; but nothing 
 is a trifle to me which concerns you. I confess I am 
 too anxious to please ; I know it's a fault, but I 
 cannot cure myself of it now. Too quick sensibility, 
 I am conscious, is the defect of my disposition ; it 
 would be happier for me if I could be more indif- 
 ferent, I know."
 
 ESSAY ON SELF-JUSTIFICATION. 307 
 
 Who could be so brutal as to blame so amiable, so 
 candid a creature ? Who would not submit to be 
 tormented with kindness ? 
 
 When once your captive condescends to be flat- 
 tered by such arguments as these, your power is 
 fixed; your future triumphs can be bounded only by 
 your own moderation ; they are at once secured and 
 justified. 
 
 Forbear not, then, happy pupils ; but, arrived at 
 the summit of power, give a full scope to your 
 genius, nor trust to genius alone : to exercise in all 
 its extent your privileged dominion, you must 
 acquire, or rather you must pretend to have acquired, 
 infallible skill in the noble art of physiognomy ; im- 
 mediately the thoughts as well as the words of your 
 subjects are exposed to your inquisition. 
 
 Words may natter you, but the countenance never 
 can deceive you; the eyes are the windows of the 
 soul, and through them you are to watch what passes 
 in the inmost recesses of the heart. There if you 
 discern the slightest ideas of doubt, blame, or dis- 
 pleasure ; if you discover the slightest symptoms of 
 revolt, take the alarm instantly. Conquerors must 
 maintain their conquests ; and how easily can they 
 do this, who hold a secret correspondence with the 
 minds of the vanquished ! Be your own spies then ; 
 from the looks, gestures, slightest motions of your 
 enemies, you are to form an alphabet, a language 
 intelligible only to yourselves, yet by which you 
 shall condemn them ; always remembering that in 
 sound policy suspicion justifies punishment. In 
 x2
 
 303 ESSAY ON SELF-JUSTIFICATION. 
 
 vain, when you accuse your friends of the high 
 treason of blaming you, in vain let them plead their 
 innocence, even of the intention. " They did not 
 say a word which could be tortured into such a mean- 
 ing." No, " but they looked daggers, though they 
 Used none." 
 
 And of this you are to be the sole judge, though 
 there were fifty witnesses to the contrary. 
 
 How should indifferent spectators pretend to know 
 the countenance of your friend as well as you do 
 you, that have a nearer, a dearer interest in attend- 
 ing to it ? So accurate have been your observations, 
 that no thought of their souls escapes you ; nay, you 
 often can tell even what they are going to think of. 
 
 The science of divination certainly claims your 
 attention ; beyond the past and the present, it shall 
 extend your dominion over the future ; from slight 
 words, half-finished sentences, from silence itself, 
 you shall draw your omens and auguries. 
 
 " I know what you were going to say ;" or, " I 
 know such a thing was. a sign you \vere inclined to 
 be displeased with me." 
 
 In the ardour of innocence, the culprit, to clear 
 himself from such imputations, incurs the imputation 
 of a greater offence. Suppose, to prove that you were 
 mistaken, to prove that he could not have meant to 
 blame you, he should declare that at the moment you 
 mention, " You were quite foreign to his thoughts ; 
 he was not thinking at all about you." 
 
 Then in truth you have a right to be angry. To 
 one of your class of justificators, this is the highest
 
 ESSAY ON SELF-JUSTIFICATION. 309 
 
 offence. Possessed as you are of the firm opinion 
 that all persons, at all times, on all occasions, are 
 intent upon you alone, is it not less mortifying to 
 discover that you were thought ill of than that you 
 were not thought of at all ? " Indifference, you 
 know, sentimental pupils, is more fatal to love than 
 even hatred." 
 
 Thus, my dear pupils, I have endeavoured to pro- 
 vide precepts adapted to the display of your several 
 talents ; but if there should be any amongst you who 
 have no talents, who can neither argue nor persuade, 
 who have neither sentiment nor enthusiasm, I must 
 indeed congratulate them ; they are peculiarly 
 qualified for the science of Self-justification : in- 
 dulgent nature, often even in the weakness, provides 
 for the protection of her creatures ; just Providence, 
 as the guard of stupidity, has enveloped it with the 
 impenetrable armour of obstinacy. 
 
 Fair idiots ! let women of sense, wit, feeling, tri- 
 umph in their various arts: yours are superior. 
 Their empire, absolute as it sometimes may be, is 
 perpetually subject to sudden revolutions. With 
 them, a man has some chance of equal sway : with a 
 fool he has none. Have they hearts and under- 
 standings ? Then the one may be touched, or the 
 other in some unlucky moment convinced ; even in 
 their very power lies their greatest danger : not so 
 with you. In vain let the most candid of his sex 
 attempt to reason with you; let him begin with, 
 " Now, my dear, only listen to reason : " you stop 
 him at once with, " No, my dear, you know I do not 
 pretend to reason; I only say, that's my opinion."
 
 310 ESSAY ON SELF- JUSTIFICATION. 
 
 Let him go on to prove that yours is a mistaken 
 opinion : you are ready to acknowledge it long be- 
 fore he desires it. " You acknowledge it may be a 
 wrong opinion ; but still it is your opinion." You do 
 not maintain it in the least, either because you be- 
 lieve it to be wrong or right, but merely because it 
 is yours. Exposed as you might have been to the 
 perpetual humiliation of being convinced, nature 
 seems kindly to have denied you all perception of 
 truth, or at least all sentiment of pleasure from the 
 perception. 
 
 With an admirable humility, you are as well con- 
 tented to be in the wrong as in the right ; you an- 
 swer all that can be said to you with a provoking 
 humility of aspect. 
 
 " Yes, I do not doubt but what you say may be 
 very true, but I cannot tell ; I do not think myself 
 capable of judging on these subjects; I am sure you 
 must know much better than I do. I do not pretend 
 to say but that your opinion is very just ; but I own 
 I am of a contrary way of thinking ; I always thought 
 so, and I always shall." 
 
 Should a man with persevering temper tell you 
 that he is ready to adopt your sentiments if you will 
 only explain them ; should he beg only to have a 
 reason for your opinion no, you can give no reason. 
 Let him urge you to say something in its defence : 
 No; like queen Anne,* you will only repeat the 
 same thing over again, or be silent. Silence is the 
 ornament of your sex; and in silence, if there be 
 
 * Vide duchess of Marlborough's Apology.
 
 ESSAY ON SELF-JUSTIFICATION. 311 
 
 not wisdom, there is safety. You will then, if you 
 please, according to your custom, sit listening to all 
 entreaties to explain, and speak with a fixed immu- 
 tability of posture, and a pre-determined deafness of 
 eye, which shall put your opponent utterly out of 
 patience; yet still by persevering with the same 
 complacent importance of countenance, you shall half 
 persuade people you could speak if you would ; you 
 shall keep them in doubt by that true want of mean- 
 ing, " which puzzles more than wit ; " even because 
 they cannot conceive the excess of your stupidity, 
 they shall actually begin to believe that they them- 
 selves are stupid. Ignorance and doubt are the great 
 parents of the sublime. 
 
 Your adversary, finding you impenetrable to argu- 
 ment, perhaps would try wit : but, " On the im- 
 passive ice the lightnings play." His eloquence or 
 his kindness will avail less ; when in yielding to you 
 after a long harangue, he expects to please you, you 
 will answer undoubtedly with the utmost propriety, 
 " That you should be very sorry he yielded his judg- 
 ment to you ; that he is very good ; that you are 
 much obliged to him ; but that, as to the point in 
 dispute, it is a matter of perfect indifference to you ; 
 for your part you have no choice at all about it ; you 
 beg that he will do just what he pleases ; you know 
 that it is the duty of a wife to submit ; but you hope, 
 however, you may have an opinion of your own." 
 
 Remember all such speeches as these will lose 
 above half their effect, if you cannot accompany them 
 with the vacant stare, the insipid smile, the passive 
 aspect of the humbly perverse.
 
 312 ESSAY ON SELF-JUSTIFICATION. 
 
 Whilst I write, new precepts rush upon my recol- 
 lection ; but the subject is inexhaustible. I quit it 
 with regret, though fully sensible of my presumption 
 in having attempted to instruct those who, whilst 
 they read, will smile in the consciousness of superior 
 powers. Adieu ! then, my fair readers : long may 
 you prosper in the practice of an art peculiar to your 
 sex ! Long may you maintain unrivalled dominion 
 at home and abroad ; and long may your husbands 
 rue the hour when first they made you promise ~" to 
 obey ! " 
 
 [Written in 1787 published in 1795.] 
 
 PRINTED BY C. BALDWIN, NBW BRIDGK-STRKKT.
 
 A 001 002 381 
 
 BOUND BY 1 
 WtSTLEYS *. I 
 CLARK . 
 LONDON. J