for a secret
police, a cabinet noir, or perhaps a tight cravat in the Temple."

"Hush! my friend."

"Ay, there it is! Now, if we were in Dame Street, we might abuse the
ministers and the army and the Lord-Lieutenant to our heart's content;
and if Jemmy O'Brien was n't one of the company, I 'd not mind a hit at
Barton himself."

"But does England still maintain her proud tone of ascendency towards
Ireland? Is the Saxon the hereditary lord, and the Celt the slave,
still?"

"There again you puzzle me; for I never saw much of this same
ascendency, or slavery either. Loyal people, some way or other, were
usually in favor with the Government, and had what many thought a most
unjust proportion of the good things to their share. But even the
others got off in most cases easily too; a devilish deal better than you
treated those luckless Austrians the other day. You killed some thirty
thousand, and made bankrupts of the rest of the nation. But then, to be
sure, it was the cause of liberty you were fighting for. And as for the
Italians--"

"Yes! but you forget these were wars not of our seeking; the treachery
of false-hearted allies led to these sad results."

"I suppose so. But certain it is, nations, like individuals, that have a
taste for fighting, usually have the good luck to find an adversary; and
as your Emperor here seems to have learned the Donnybrook Fair trick of
trailing his coat after him, it would be strange enough if nobody would
gratify him by standing on it."

Without being able to say why, I felt piqued and annoyed at the tone of
Bubbleton's remarks, which, coming from one of his narrow intelligence
on ordinary topics, worried me only the more. I had long since seen that
the liberty with which in boyhood I was infatuated had no existence save
in the dreams of ardent patriotism; that the great and the mighty felt
ambition a goal, and power a birthright; that the watchwords of freedom
were inscribed on banners when the sentiments had died out of men's
hearts, while as a passion the more dazzling one of glory made every
other pale before it; and that the calm head and moderate judgment could
scarce survive contact with the intoxicating triumphs of a nation's
successes.

Such was, indeed, the real change Napoleon had wrought in France. Their
enthusiasm could not rest content with national liberty; glory alone
could satisfy a nation drunk with victory. Against the stern followers
of the Republican era--the