mself on the occasion to which Lord Castlewell had
referred. But yet he was a thoroughly honest, patriotic man, desirous
only of the good of his country, and wishing for nothing for himself.
Is it not possible that as much may be said for others, who from
day to day so violently excite our spleen, as to make us feel that
special Irishmen selected for special constituencies are not worthy
to be ranked with men? You shall take the whole House of Commons,
indifferent as to the side on which they sit,--some six hundred and
thirty out of the number,--and will find in conversation that the
nature of the animal, the absurdity, the selfishness, the absence
of all good qualifies, are taken for granted as matters admitting
of no dispute. But here was Mr. O'Mahony, as hot a Home-Ruler and
Landleaguer as any of them, who was undoubtedly a gentleman,--though
an American gentleman. Can it be possible that we are wrong in our
opinions respecting the others of the set?

Rachel heard it all the next day, and, living as she did among
Italians and French, and theatrical Americans, and English swells,
could not endeavour to make the apology which I have just made for
the Irish Brigade generally. She knew that her father had made an ass
of himself. All the asinine proportions of the affair had been so
explained to her as to leave no doubt on her mind as to the matter.
But the more she was sure of it, the more resolved she became that
Lord Castlewell should not call her father an ass. She might do
so,--and undoubtedly would after her own fashion,--but no such
privilege should be allowed to him.

"Oh! father, father," she said to him the next morning, "don't you
think you've made a goose of yourself?"

"Yes, I do."

"Then, don't do it any more."

"Yes, I shall. It isn't so very easy for a man not to make a goose of
himself in that place. You've got to sit by and do nothing for a year
or two. It is very difficult. A man cannot afford to waste his time
in that manner. There is all Ireland to be regenerated, and I have to
learn the exact words which the prudery of the House of Commons will
admit. Of course I have made a goose of myself; but the question is
whether I did not make a knave of myself in apologising for language
which was undoubtedly true. Only think that a man so brutal, so
entirely without feelings, without generosity, without any touch
of sentiment, should be empowered by the Queen of England to lock
up, not only every Iris