his name is before one, a little anecdote
may be appropriately introduced, illustrative of the wild waggery
prevailing in the streets of Dublin in those days.

Those days were the good old days of true virtue! When a bishop who had
daughters to marry, would advance a deserving young curate to a good
living, and, not content with _that_ manifestation of his regard,
would give him _one of his own children_ for a wife! Those were
the days when, the country being in danger, fathers were willing to
sacrifice, not only their sons, but their daughters on the altar of
patriotism! Do you doubt it?--unbelieving and selfish creatures of
these degenerate times! Listen! A certain father waited upon the Irish
Secretary, one fine morning, and in that peculiar strain which
secretaries of state must be pretty well used to, descanted at some
length on the devotion he had always shown to the government, and yet
they had given him no _proof of their confidence_. The Secretary
declared they had the highest sense of his merits, and that they had
given him their entire confidence.

"But you have given me nothing else, my lord," was the answer.

"My dear sir, of late we have not had any proof of sufficient weight in
our gift to convince you."

"Oh, I beg your pardon, my lord; there's a majority of the ---- dragoons
vacant."

"Very true, my dear sir; and if you _had_ a child to devote to the
service of your country, no one should have the majority sooner."

"Thank you, my lord," said the worthy man with a low bow; "then I
_have_ a child."

"Bless me, sir! I never heard you had a son."

"No, my lord, but I have a daughter."

"A daughter!" said my Lord Secretary, with a look of surprise; "but you
forget, sir--this is a regiment--a _dragoon_ regiment."

"Oh, she rides elegant," said her father.

"But, my dear sir--a woman?"

"Why shouldn't a woman do her duty, my lord, as well as a man, when the
country is in danger? I'm ready to sacrifice my daughter," said the
heroic man, with an air worthy of Virginius.

"My dear sir, this is really impossible; you _know_ it's
impossible."

"I know no such thing, my lord. But I'll tell you what I know: there's
a bill coming on next week--and there are _ten friends of mine_
who have not made up their minds yet."

"My dear sir," said the Lord Secretary, squeezing his hand with
vehement friendship, "why place us in this dreadful difficulty? It
would be impossible even to draw up the commission;