in the same fashion. But so it is with human
nature. We know how a people will weep for their Sovereign, and it
was with such tears as that, with tears as sincere as those shed for
the best of kings, that Lord Frederick Cavendish and Mr. Burke were
lamented. In April these two men had fallen, hacked to death in front
of the Viceregal Lodge. By whom they were killed, as I write now, no
one knows, and as regards Lord Frederick one can hardly guess the
reason. He had come over to Ireland on that very day, to take the
place which his luckier predecessor had just vacated, and had as yet
done no service, and excited no vengeance in Ireland. He had only
attended an opening pageant;--because with him had come a new Lord
Lieutenant,--not new indeed to the office, but new in his return. An
accident had brought the two together on the day, but Lord Frederick
was altogether a stranger, and yet he had been selected. Such had
been his fate, and such also the fate of Mr. Burke, who, next to him
in official rank, may possibly have been in truth the doomed one.
They were both dealt with horribly on that April morning,--and all
Ireland was grieving. All Ireland was repudiating the crime, and
saying that this horror had surely been done by American hands. Even
the murderers native to Ireland seemed to be thoroughly ashamed of
this deed.

It would be needless here to tell,--or to attempt to tell,--how one
Lord-Lieutenant had made way for another, and one Chief Secretary
for another Chief Secretary. It would be trying to do too much. In
the pages of a novel the novelist can hardly do more than indicate
the sources of the troubles which have fallen upon the country,
and can hardly venture to deal with the names and characters of
those who have been concerned. For myself, I do most cordially agree
with the policy of him in whose place Lord Frederick had this day
suffered,--as far as his conduct in Ireland can be read from that
which he did and from that which he spoke. As far as he had agreed
with the Government in their measure for interfering with the price
paid for land in the country,--for putting up a new law devised by
themselves in lieu of that time-honoured law by which property has
ever been protected in England,--I disagree. Of my disagreement
no one will take notice;--but my story cannot be written without
expressing it.

But down at Morony Castle, mingled with their sorrows, there was a
joy and a triumph; not loud indeed, not s