CHAPTER III.

Journey to Mount Melleraye-Foundling Hospital-Judge Norbury-The Catholics and their "natural Leaders"-Peter Bodkin Hussey-Jack Lawless-Anecdote of the Clare Election-Approach to Melleraye-The Monastery-Reception of O'Connell-O'Connell a Novelist!" Viscount O'Connell" -Offer of a Seat on the Bench.

IN August, 1838, the Liberator quitted Dublin for the monastery of Mount Melleraye, in the county of Waterford, where he intended to spend a few days in retreat. I was anxious to see that establishment, and he gave me a seat in his carriage. When travelling, he was usually very communicative, and every place of any interest along the road elicited some anecdote or reminiscence. On this journey, he talked much of his own achievements in the long struggle for Catholic Emancipation, and gave some sketches of his political fellow labourers.

It was three o'clock in the afternoon of a clear sunny day when we left town. On passing the

Foundling Hospital at the western end of the city, O'Connell said to me, "That is one of the institutions of mistaken philanthropy. It encouraged vice by affording an easy mode of disposing of its consequences. And then there was the hideous risk of incestuous marriages, from the foundlings' ignorance of their relationship to each other, or to the rest of the world. The late Dr. Troy, the Catholic Archbishop of Dublin, distinctly traced proofs, that in one case a youth brought up in that foundling hospital had married his own mother!"

A little further on were the roofless remains of the old Court House of Kilmainham.

"That ruin," said Mr. O'Connell," was a busy place after the rebellion. Its unpopular celebrity was commemorated in a ballad that began, I think, thus:—

'Harkforward, Kilmainham! harkforward, Kilmainham ! We'll hang 'em, we'll hang 'em, before we arraign 'em. Old Toler* leads the bloody hunt,

This day some wretch must die.'"

He then began to speak of his own recollections of the rebellion, of the Union (on which he made his maiden speech), and of the subsequent position of the Catholic cause.

*The late Judge Norbury, of punning and hanging notoriety.

"The 'natural leaders,' as they were called, of the Catholics," said he, "the Catholic aristocracy, were jealous at seeing the leadership, which they were incapable of managing, taken out of their hands by lawyers and merchants. Efforts were occasionally made to control what they were pleased to deem the vulgar violence of our exertions. In 1807, a certain aristocratic banker visited the Catholic Board one day, and delivered himself of some advice that savoured suspiciously of Castle influence. I remember that he accused the Catholic barristers of clamouring for emancipation merely in order to qualify themselves for office. I opposed him, of course, and I had a stout ally in Peter Bodkin Hussey, who discarded all ceremony from his attack on the invader. Peter's speech was extremely characteristic of his sagacity, his coarseness, and his impudence. I understand this gentleman,' said Peter, 'just as well as if I was inside his head. He has talked about Catholic barristers having personal objects to gain. I tell him there are Catholic bankers who have personal objects to gain. I'won't mince the matter, and I boldly declare my conviction that his advice is dishonest. I tell him, moreover, that although I only chastise him verbally now, in the hope that he may take himself quietly off, and give us no further trouble, yet I would hesi

tate just as little to chastise him personally if he should come here again on a similar errand. The intruder took the hint and decamped. Peter Bodkin Hussey," continued Mr. O'Connell, "was in general as rough-tongued a fellow as I ever met, saying ill-natured things of everybody, and goodnatured things of nobody. He piqued himself on his impertinence. It was not, however, a bad reply he made to another impertinent fellow who hailed him one day in the Four Courts, saying, 'Peter, I'll bet you a guinea that you are a more impertinent rascal than I am.' 'You'd win your guinea," answered Peter, 'I am certainly the more impernent. You are only impertinent to those who you know won't knock you down for it—but I am impertinent to everybody.'"

I asked him his opinion of the noted "Jack Lawless" as a public speaker.

"He began admirably," replied Mr. O'Connell, "and proceeded wretchedly. His first four or five sentences were exceedingly good; the language excellent, the sentiments impressive, the delivery admirable. But then he began to fail, and continued to the end in a strain of incoherence. Sometimes, indeed, he got off right well-that is, if he was interrupted near the outset. He would then reiterate his opening points with excellent effect, and

with the spirit which the stimulus of a little brushing opposition infused into his manner.

"But Jack was an unpleasant sort of fellow to transact public business with. One day in committee Jack told us he meant to bring publicly forward at that day's meeting a certain topic, which I was of opinion it would be infinitely wiser and more prudent to leave in the shade. I expressed that opinion very strongly, and was backed by many persons. Lawless seemed reluctant to acquiesce, but at last he said, 'O'Connell, you are right—I see you are quite right. I shall say nothing on that subject at the meeting.' I thanked him for his acquiescence, and in order to make assurance doubly sure, I said to him as we were passing through the little boarded entry into the great room, Now, Jack, you'll be sure to hold your tongue about that affair?' 'Do you mean to doubt my word?' retorted Jack, rather angrily; 'Have I not promised to be silent? I consider my honour as pledged.' I was quite satisfied, and we went in. I moved somebody into the chair, and sat down to look over a letter, when up started Jack, and dashed full into the topic upon which he had just promised silence! Of course I had to draw the sword upon . him in reply."

This wayward and unmanageable gentleman