eman sword and spear:

"And--woe to the patriot Manx,
The right overthrown by the wrong,--
For the sword hews hard at the staggering ranks,
And the spear drives deep and strong:
And Orry the Dane stands proud
King of the bloodstained field,
Lifted on high by the shouldering crowd
On the battered boss of his shield!

"Yet, though such a man of blood,
So terribly fierce and fell,
King Orry the Dane had come hither for good,
And governed the clans right well;
Freedom and laws and right,
He sowed the good seed all round--
And built up high in the people's sight
Their famous Tynwald Mound;

"And elders twenty and four
He set for the House of Keys,
And all was order from shore to shore
In the fairest Isle of the Seas:
Though he came a destroyer, I wist
He remained as a ruler to save,
And yonder he sleeps in the roadside kist
They call King Orry's Grave."

It was at Castle Mona that I first met Walter Montgomery, who read these
very lines to great effect at one of his Recitations, and thereafter
produced at Manchester my play of "Alfred." He was, amongst other
accomplishments, a capital horseman, and when he galloped over the sands
on his white horse, he would jump benches with their sitters, calling
out "Don't stir, we shall clear you!" It would have required no small
coolness and courage to have abided his charge, and though I saw him do
this once, I question if he was allowed to repeat the exploit.

In Douglas was also my artist-friend Corbould, visiting at the romantic
place of his relatives the Wilsons, who had to show numerous paintings
and relics of John Martin, with whom in old days I had pleasant
acquaintance at Chelsea and elsewhere. I remember that on one occasion
when I asked him which picture of his own he considered his
_chef-d'oeuvre_ I was astonished at his reply, "Sardanapalus's
death,--and therein his jewels." Martin's Chelsea garden had its walls
frescoed by him to look like views and avenues,--certainly effective,
but rather in the style of Grimaldi's garden made gay by artificial
flowers and Aladdin's gems, _a la mode_ Cockayne. At Bishop's Court too
we had a very friendly reception from Bishop Powys, and in fact
everywhere as usual your confessor found a cordial author's welcome in
Mona.

CHAPTER XXI.

NEVER GIVE UP, AND SOME OTHER BALLADS.

Sundry of my short