irect his coachman to a street in the capital. What a
ludicrous view of life would this open to our view! While all these
men, who have been satisfied hitherto to send their sympathies from
Switzerland, and their best wishes for Ireland by an ambassador's bag,
should now come back to writhe beneath the scourge of a demagogue, and
the tyranny of a man who wields irresponsible power.

All Ireland would present the features of a general election--every
one would be fascinating, courteous, affable, and dishonest. The
unpopular debater in England might have his windows smashed. With us,
it would be his neck would be broken. The excitement of the people
will be felt within the Parliament; and then, fostered by all the
rancour of party hate, will be returned to them with interest. The
measure discussed out of doors by the Liberator, will find no one
hardy enough to oppose it within the House, and the opinions of the
Corn Exchange will be the programme for a committee. A notice of a
motion will issue from Merrion-square, and not from a seat in
Parliament; and wherever he moves through the country, great Daniel,
like a snail, will carry "his house" on his back. "Rob me the
Exchequer, Hal!" will be the cry of the priesthood, and no men are
better deserving of their hire; and thus, wielding every implement of
power, if Ireland be not happy, he can only have himself to blame for
it.

[Illustration]

A NUT FOR NATIONAL PRIDE.

National Pride must be a strong feeling, and one of the very few
sentiments which are not exhausted by the drain upon them; and it is a
strange thing, how the very fact upon which one man plumes himself,
another would regard as a terrible reproach. A thorough John Bull, as
he would call himself, thinks he has summed up, in those few emphatic
words, a brief description of all that is excellent in humanity. And
as he throws out his chest, and sticks his hand with energy in his
breeches pocket, seems to say, "I am not one of your frog-eating
fellows, half-monkey, half-tiger, but a true Briton." The Frenchman,
as he proclaims his nation, saying, "_Je suis F-r-r-r-rancais_," would
indicate that he is a very different order of being, from his blunt
untutored neighbour, "_outre mer_;" and so on to the end of the
chapter. Germans, Italians, and Spaniards, and even Americans, think
there is some magic in the name of their fatherland--some inherent
nobility in the soil: and it was only lately I read in a Fr