hy; but instead of doing so he called him a "disreputable
jailer." It is not pleasant to be called a disreputable jailer in the
presence of all the best of one's fellow citizens, but the man so
called in this instance only smiled. Mr. O'Mahony had certainly made
himself ridiculous, and the whole House were loud in their clamours
at the words used. But that did not suffice. The Speaker reprimanded
Mr. O'Mahony and desired him to recall the language and apologise
for it. Then there arose a loud debate, during which the member of
the Government who had been assailed declared that Mr. O'Mahony had
not as yet been quite long enough in the House to learn the little
details of Parliamentary language; Mr. O'Mahony would no doubt soften
down his eloquence in course of time. But the Speaker would not be
content with this, and was about to order the sinner to be carried
away by the Sergeant-at-Arms, when a friend on his right and a friend
on his left, and a friend behind him, all whispered into his ear
how easy it is to apologise in the House of Commons. "You needn't
say he isn't a disreputable jailer, but only call him a distasteful
warder;--anything will do." This came from the gentleman at Mr.
O'Mahony's back, and the order for his immediate expulsion was
ringing in his ears. He had been told that he was ridiculous, and
could feel that it would be absurd to be carried somewhere into the
dungeons. And the man whom he certainly detested at the present
moment worse than any other scoundrel on the earth, had made a
good-natured apology on his behalf. If he were carried away now, he
could never come back again without a more serious apology. Then,
farewell to all power of attacking the jailer. He did as the man
whispered into his ear, and begged to substitute "distasteful warder"
for the words which had wounded so cruelly the feelings of the right
honourable gentleman. Then he looked round the House, showing that
he thought that he had misbehaved himself. After that, during Mr.
O'Mahony's career as a Member of Parliament, which lasted only for
the session, he lost his self-respect altogether. He had been driven
to withdraw the true wrath of his eloquence from him "at whose brow,"
as he told Rachel the next morning, "he had hurled his words with a
force that had been found to be intolerable."

Mr. O'Mahony had undoubtedly made himself an ass again on this
second, third, and perhaps tenth occasion. This was not the ass
he had made hi