to come to the front. The qualifications above-mentioned
cannot fail to ensure success. We have the examples before us, no need
to mention names. A hard cheek, a bitter tongue, and a good digestion
are the three great steps in the Irish Parliamentary _gradus ad
Parnassum_, the cheek to enable its happy possessor to "snub up" to
gentlemen of birth and breeding, the tongue to drip gall and venom on
all and sundry, the digestion to eat dirt _ad libitum_ and to endure
hebdomadal horsewhippings. Such a man, I am sure, was the dhriver of
my cyar, who may readily be identified. His physiognomy is very like
the railway map of Ireland, coloured red, with the rivers and mountain
ranges in dark-blue or plum-colour. As a means of ready reference he
would be invaluable in the House of Commons. How interesting to see
Mr. Gladstone poring over his cheek (Connaught and Leinster), his jaw
(Munster, with a pimple for Parnellite Cork), and his forehead
(Ulster, with the eyes for Derry and Belfast). The G.O.M. would find
the Kerry member invaluable. Like the rest he would probably be devoid
of shame, untroubled by scruples, and a straight voter for his side,
so long as he was not allowed to go "widout a male." Who knows but
that, like the Prime Minister's chief Irish adviser, he may even have
been reared on the savoury tripe and the succulent "drischeen"?

All the Tralee folks are shy of political talk. They eye you for a
long time before they commit themselves, but when once started they
can hardly stop, so warm are they, so intensely interested in the
great question. Running down the line, a Cork merchant said "The Kerry
folks are decent, quiet folks by nature. Do not believe that these
simple villagers are the determined murderers they would seem to be.
No brighter intellects in Ireland, no better hearts, no more
hospitable hosts in the Emerald Isle. They are very superstitious.
There you have it all. 'Tis their beautiful ingenuousness that makes
them so easily led astray. What do these simple country folks, living
on their farms, without books, without newspapers, without
communication with large centres--what do they know about intricate
State affairs? What can they do but listen to the priest, regarded as
the great scholar of the district, reverenced as almost--nay, quite
infallible, and credited with the power to give or withhold eternal
life? For while in England the people only respect a parson according
to the esteem he deserves