ct, but this
amused us:--Some Irish had emigrated to some West Indian colony;
the negroes soon learnt their brogue, and when another shipload
of Irish came soon after, the negroes as they sailed in said,
'Ah, Paddy, how are you?' 'Oh, Christ!' said one of them, 'what,
y're become black already!'

Moore, without displaying the astonishing knowledge of
Mackintosh, was very full of information, gaiety, and humour. Two
more delightful days I never passed. I could not help reflecting
what an extraordinary thing success is in this world, when a man
so gifted as Mackintosh has failed completely in public life,
never having attained honours, reputation, or wealth, while so
many ordinary men have reaped an abundant harvest of all. What a
consolation this affords to mediocrity! None can approach
Mackintosh without admiring his extraordinary powers, and at the
same time wondering why they have not produced greater effects in
the world either of literature or politics. His virtues are
obstacles to his success; he has not the art of pushing or of
making himself feared; he is too _doucereux_ and complimentary,
and from some accident or defect in the composition of his
character, and in the course of events which have influenced his
circumstances, he has always been civilly neglected. Both
Mackintosh and Moore told a great many anecdotes, but one morning
at breakfast the latter related a story which struck us all.
Mackintosh said it was enough to furnish materials for a novel,
but that the simple narrative was so striking it ought to be
written down without exaggeration or addition. I afterwards wrote
it down as nearly as I could recollect it. It was Crampton, the
Surgeon-General, who told it to Moore, and Crampton _loquitur_.

[Page Head: SIR PHILIP CRAMPTON'S STORY]

'Some years ago I was present at a duel that was fought between a
young man of the name of MacLoughlin and another Irishman. MacL.
was desperately wounded; his second ran up to him, and thought to
console him with the intelligence that his antagonist had also
fallen. He only replied, "I am sorry for it if he is suffering as
much as I do now." I was struck by the good feeling evinced in
this reply, and took an interest in the fate of the young man. He
recovered, and a few years after my interest was again powerfully
excited by hearing that he had been arrested on suspicion of
having murdered his father-in-law, his mother's second husband.
He was tried and found gui