y. We must now have some sort of Home Rule, but
we shall be ruined if we get it from a Liberal Government. If we get
it from a Tory Government, the English will run to lend us money, but
if from a Morley-Gladstone combination they won't advance us a stiver.
The present Irish Parliamentary representatives have the confidence
of no single Irish party. They were well enough for their immediate
purpose, and no better men would come forward. To entrust them with
large powers is the very acme of wild insanity. Admitting their
honesty, which is doubtful, they have had no experience in business
affairs, and their class is demonstratedly devoid of administrative
capacity. The Poor Law Guardians of Cork, Portumna, Ballinasloe,
Swinford, Ballyvaughan, and many other towns and cities, have by their
mismanagement brought their respective districts to insolvency. That
every case was a case of mismanagement is clearly proved by the fact
that the Government having superseded these Boards in each case by two
paid Guardians, a period of two years has sufficed to wipe off all
debts, to reduce expenses, and to leave a balance in hand. They then
begin to drift again into insolvency. And where the guardians have not
been superseded, where they have not yet become bankrupt, they still
have a bank balance against them. You will scarcely hear of a solvent
parish, even if you offer a reward. And that is the class of persons
Mr. Gladstone would entrust with the administration of Irish finance.
The result would be the country's bankruptcy, and England would have
to pay the damage. Serve England right for her stupidity."

What my friend said anent the class of men who compose the ranks of
the Irish Parliamentary party reminds me of something I heard in
Athlone. A great anti-Parnellite said:--"Poor Mat Harris was the
splindid spaker, in throth! Parnell it was that sent him to the House
of Commons. Many's the time I seen him on the roof of the Royal Hotel,
fixin the tiles, an' puttin things sthraight, that the rain wouldn't
run in. 'Tis a slater he was, an' an iligant slater, at that. An' when
he came down for a big dhrink, the way he'd stand at the bar and
discoorse about Ireland would brake yer heart. Many's the time I seen
the ould waiter listenin' to him till the wather would pour out iv his
two good-lookin' eyes. An, thin, 'twas Mat Harris had the gab, rest
his sowl! Ye haven't anybody could come up to him barrin' owld
Gladstone, divil a one." A