the liquid bliss, and return to the spot
whence they may look upon the beauteous promenaders of Patrick Street.
They prefer the kaleidoscopic change of the streets to the stationary
beauty of the bar, and while admitting the unfleeting quality of the
fixed stars they worship the procession of the equinoxes. On Saturday
last, the day O'Brien died, the Mayor of Cork, with Mayoral chain and
hosts of satellites, might have been seen under the familiar portal,
discussing the proposed public funeral of the lamented friend, once
Mayor of the City, and described as "a gentleman who had, by his
courageous and outspoken utterances, obtained the distinguished honour
of imprisonment by the British Government." Particulars were not
given, as the first two incarcerations occurred under Forster and
Trevelyan. The third, under Balfour, was a term of fourteen days for
assaulting a policeman. The Corporation discussed the patriot's merits
without descending to detail. Outside, the newspaper boys were yelling
"Arrest of Misther Balfour-r-r," but the Corporation were no buyers.
The populace might be taken in, but official Cork know it was the
"wrong 'un," and clave to its hard-earned pence.

Public opinion here is much the same as in Dublin, only hotter.
Respectable people who have anything to lose are, if possible, more
seriously alarmed. The lower classes are, if possible, more bitter,
more implacable in their animosity to everything English.
Nevertheless, the feeling against Home Rule is assuredly gaining
ground, even among the most ardent Nationalists. The great meeting of
last Wednesday showed what the Unionists could do, how they could
crowd a great platform with the intelligence of the country, and fill
a great hall with the Unionist rank and file. The Loyalists have
astonished themselves. They knew not their own strength. Now they are
taking fresh heart, determined to hold out to extremity. The
Separatists--for the Corkers are Separatists _au naturel_--are
somewhat disconcerted, and try to minimise the effect of the meeting
by sneering and contumely; but it will not do. They affect hilarity,
but their laughter is not real. Perhaps nothing shows the shallowness
of men more than the tricks they think sufficient to deceive. And then
the leaders are accustomed to a credulous public. The place is
eminently religious. Cork is the Isle of Saints--with a port and a
garrison to enhance its sanctity. At certain seasons a big trade is
done i