red out
of proportion of character is made, in his hands, to contribute to the
general strength and beauty of the oath.

'Tis true, there is nothing perfect under the sun; but if there were,
it would certainly be Paddy at an _alibi_. Some flaws, no doubt, occur;
some slight inaccuracies may be noticed by a critical eye; an occasional
anachronism stands out, and a mistake or so in geography; but let it
be recollected that Paddy's alibi is but a human production; let us not
judge him by harsher rules than those which we apply to Homer, Virgil,
or Shakspeare.

"Aliquando bonus dormitat Homerus," is allowed on all hands. Virgil made
Dido and AEneas contemporary, though they were not so; and Shakspeare,
by the creative power of his genius, changed an inland town into a
seaport. Come, come, have bowels. Let epic swearing be treated with the
same courtesy shown to epic poetry, that is, if both are the production
of a rare genius. I maintain, that when Paddy commits a blemish he
is too harshly admonished for it. When he soars out of sight here, as
occasionally happens, does he not frequently alight somewhere about
Sydney Bay, much against his own inclination? And if he puts forth
a hasty production, is he not compelled, for the space of seven or
fourteen years, to revise his oath? But, indeed, few words of fiction
are properly encouraged in Ireland.

It would be unpardonable in us, however, to overlook the beneficial
effects of Paddy's peculiar genius in swearing alibis. Some persons, who
display their own egregious ignorance of morality, may be disposed to
think that it tends to lessen the obligation of an oath, by inducing
a habit among the people of swearing to what is not true. We look upon
such persons as very dangerous to Ireland and to the repeal of the
Union; and we request them not to push their principles too far in the
disturbed parts of the country. Could society hold together a single
day, if nothing but truth were spoken, would not law and lawyers soon
become obsolete, if nothing but truth were sworn what would become of
parliament if truth alone were uttered there? Its annual proceedings
might be dispatched in a month. Fiction is the basis of society, the
bond of commercial prosperity, the channel of communication between
nation and nation, and not unfrequently the interpreter between a man
and his own conscience.

For these, and many other reasons which we could adduce, we say with
Paddy, "Long life to fict