county, and the honour of his country, to come to him immediately, and strive to keep company with his excellency. The clerical Bacchus did not refuse so agreeable a summons, and next day was seated at table opposite the vice-regal one. After the rest of the party were dispersed or fallen, the two champions were left alone. "This is poor pitiful work, your grace," said the curate: "the wine is getting cold on my stomach; what do you think of a bumper of brandy?" His grace had no objection to so spirited a proposition, and two large glasses were instantly swallowed; two others were as instantly filled up; Mr. drank : a part of his, but could proceed no further; his jaw became fixed, and he rolled motionless on the floor :the duke coolly finished his own glass, and, smiling on his prostrate antagonist, walked steadily to his chamber. This method of drinking himself into the hearts of the Irish is, however, not original with his grace: the Duke of Rutland silenced opposition in a similar manner; but unfortunately did not live to enjoy the fruits of his labour: he fell a martyr to his exertions for his country, and died of a fever, brought on by carousing and hard drinking. In his cups he had a good-natured propensity to making knights. As respectable men generally declined his favours, they were lavished on people of a different description, and many of his knights still sell soap and tobacco, noggins of whiskey, and farthing candles, in different parts of the kingdom. These poor knights have long been a subject of merriment in Ireland; ridiculed and jeered at by the men, and not much thought of even by the women. The Duke of Rutland possessed all the munificence of his noble sire; and, with all his faults, was, with one illustrious exception, the phoenix of modern Lord Lieutenants. I have looked into the history of several, but find nothing worth recording: the most of them were grave and formal courtiers, who wore bag-wigs and swords, turned out their toes, danced minuets, and laughed as seldom as they thought. Wit does not seem indigenous in the castle of Dublin, more than in the palace of St. James's. I suspect there is something in the air of courts unfriendly to it; as the air of this country is said to be to venomous animals, and that wit can no more thrive in the one than serpents in the other. There is no rule without an exception, however; and I just now recollect a very particular one. The Earl of Chesterfield was a scholar, and a man of wit, as well as an elegant courtier: his government of this country proves him to have been not only a man of an enlightened understanding, but of the most benevolent dispositions. He came over in the year 1745, a period remarkable for the rebellion which raged in Scotland, and made it necessary to have an able and prudent statesman at the head of affairs in Ireland. By the wisdom and lenity of his measures, the Catholics remained perfectly quiet: before his arrival, those in power had shut up their chapels in Dublin, and their priests were commanded to leave the kingdom by proclamation. These severities were offensive to Lord Chesterfield: convinced that harsh treatment alienates the heart, but that gentle usage inspires confidence and gains the affections, he permitted them the undisturbed exercise of their religion; to accusations to their prejudice, resulting from dislike, he paid no regard-rumours of plots and insurrections were listened to by him with calm indifference. One morning prior to the battle of Culloden, Mr. Gardiner, the vice treasurer, abruptly entered his bed-chamber with tidings that the papists were rising.—“ Rising,” said his lordship, looking on his watch, "it is time for every honest man to rise; it is past nine o'clock, and I will rise myself. Lord Chesterfield, the day he embarked for England, was followed to the shore by the prayers and good wishes of a crowd of attending spectators; and to perpetuate his virtues and the gratitude of the nation, his bust was placed in the Castle of Dublin at the public expense. Lord Carteret, who governed Ireland for several years, was likewise a man of knowledge and a scholar. In 1729 he issued a proclamation for apprehending the author of Drapier's letters. Swift afterwards expostulated with his excellency on the impropriety of this proclamation; when Lord Carteret, with classic elegance, thus replied-" Res dura, et regni novitas, me talia cogunt moliri.” Swift, prior to this interview, wrote on a pane of the window of the audience chamber in the Castle, My very good lord, 'tis a very hard task, That I should wait here who have nothing to ask. The Lord Lieutenant wrote underneath, My very good dean, there is none who come here But have something to ask, or something to fear. Swift at that time was violently in opposition; under the simile of the legion club, he thus describes the first session of the Irish parliament, held in the late parliament-house, College Green : Not a stone's throw from the College, Beloved by few, accursed by all. -- We never, however, know the value of any thing till we have lost it: the people of Dublin, who thought very little of their parliament when they had it, are now extremely clamorous to have it back again: it only loaded their shoulders, but the United parliament, they swear, breaks their backs with the weight of its burdens: whether with or without reason, they are at present in a state of great fermentation; the storm which lately raised the billows of the Thames did not much exceed that which now agitates the Liffey. It is not, however, here on account of a speculative question, but one of paramount consideration--the heavy taxes laid on at the close of the last session of parliament. They are principally additional duties on wine, and a considerable augmentation of the hearth and window tax as they have retrospective power, they are reprobated not only as oppressive but as unjust, not only as taxation but as robbery: several persons have refused paying them, and vestries are summoned in many parishes, to arrange the most effectual means of opposing their operation. This is a very unequal struggle, and it is not necessary to be a prophet to foretel the event-the government will conquer, and the vestries will yield; the inhabitants of Dublin may give their choler vent in words, but they must end where they ought to have begun-by opening their purses. Mr. Foster, Chancellor of the Exchequer for Ireland, is considered the author of these obnoxious regulations-he is the universal subject of conversation and benediction" The blessings of the evil one, which are curses, are upon him." He is placarded and caricatured in print shops; and the fancy of Dublin displays itself in as many grotesque delineations as that of London on similar occasions. I meet with him as I walk along on old walls and gateways; sometimes hanging, and sometimes roasting; and lest it should be supposed it was temporal suffering only, some kindhearted commentator on this flaming text writes underneath, in large characters, D to Foster for ever. Popular commotion is like the hysterics; one person is affected, and thousands take it by imitation.-The Common Council of Dublin has not escaped this widespreading contagion:-at a turbulent meeting which took place a few days ago, his picture, which had been put up in the hall for his opposition to the Union, was ordered to be taken down. A member, who did not think this mark of contumely sufficient, proposed it should receive a kick from each person in its journey to the lumber room-another greater genius said, it should be kicked by every man in the nation. This playing at football with pictures is a harmless way of displaying resentment, and though not so well at present, would be no bad amusement for cold weather; it would show the world likewise, that the Common Council of Dublin does not want for understanding. Dublin, however, must be allowed to be at present in a distressed situation: several thousand manufacturers are out of employment; and bankruptcies are so numerous, that credit is almost at a stand. Some of |