once, detected in the fact of walking with some ladies who were said to be united Irishwomen. United Irishwomen were more obnoxious than united Irishmen, because they were the grand missionaries for making proselytes, for putting men up, in technical phrase. Why the republicans took him for an aristocrat will appear presently. Among other introductions, he had one to a respectable gentleman who resided a short distance from the town; he insisted on his staying at his house until he could accommodate himself with a lodging. The morning after his arrival, the son, who was a lad about sixteen years of age, invited him out to the garden to have a few moments' conversation with him. When they were arrived at the most retired part of it, his young conductor, drawing himself up with great dignity, proceeded to inform him, that the county regiment was complete in men, the subordinate officers were all appointed, but a leader was wanted: the situation had been offered him, but he thought himself too young for so important a charge. But he believed he had interest enough to procure it for him: he was a physician, a man of sense, and understood Latin and Greek, no doubt; which was, above all things, what the troops desired the most. (The rebels, it seems, in order to be in all respects as different from his Majesty's forces as possible, wished to have men of learning at their head.) If, therefore, he would take the united Irishman's oath, the situation of colonel was very much at his service. My friend stared at him for some time, thinking he was jesting; but finding he was perfectly serious, declined the favour with as much gravity as it was offered. He

returned him many thanks for the opinion he entertained of his talents, and the high promotion-which might soon be followed by still higher-he meant to honour him with; he never could discover, however, that he had any military qualifications: they had all heard of heaven-born statesmen and generals, but he was afraid he was not a heaven-born colonel; he had never fired a gun but once in his life, at a flock of sparrows, about ten paces distant, and then he missed them his genius (if he had any) lay in another way; his ideas were grovelling: to his shame he must confess, he preferred the ringing of a pestle and mortar to the sound of a trumpet, and writing recipes to flourishing a pike: with his good leave, therefore, he would stick to his profession, concluding with nearly a similar sentiment to that of Othello:

"Though in my trade I may perhaps slay men,

Yet do I hold it very stuff o' the conscience
To do no contrived murder."

The conference here ended; my friend went in to breakfast, and the young colonel-maker sallied forth in quest of some man who spoke Latin, and had more enterprise, and fewer scruples, than he had. That very evening, however, this military Roscius was obliged to walk off the stage; his friends found it necessary to send him privately away, and afterwards got him smuggled to America, where he now is. As he since got his head broke at a large party for damning the Americans for a parcel of outlandish savages; and was near losing his life on another occasion, in a duel he fought with a French emigrant in defence of the reputation of Lady Pamela Fitz

gerald; and, moreover, has got a wife and three children, it is to be presumed his fire is pretty well spent, and that he is now a peaceful member of society. This gallant officer, like Dionysius retired to Corinth, condescended, for some time, to teach a school in one of the back settlements: he has since emerged from that lowly calling, and, I understand, keeps a shop in New York, or Boston.

Some time after this conversation, Doctor was invited to a grand entertainment given by a gentleman a few miles from the town. It was Christmas time, and the season of jollity; dinners were plenty, though fees were scarce; physicians, like lawyers, take whatever they can get; my friend had no patient at the time, he therefore accepted the invitation. There was a brilliant assemblage of both sexes: it was what is called a house-warming, and there was a dinner, a ball, and a supper. There were a great number of beautiful young women, smiling like Hebes, and verdant as spring; for they all wore her livery-green ribbons, green gowns, green shoes, and green handkerchiefs. May lingered in the lap of December, and he literally thought himself in clover; mirth and music, politics and pastime, flew about like a pack of cards. The company were all of one mind; ladies old and young; youth which sat at a side-table, as well as the grave personage who said grace. Erin-go-bragh (Ireland for ever!), Unite and be free, and Paddy's resource, were sung with rapture; and my friend, who perhaps had an eye to the young ladies' custom when they became wives, or was intoxicated with their charms, chorused as loudly as if he had been Napper Tandy himself: he was no enemy to government,

but probably thought it would not fall a whit the sooner for the weapons they were then attacking it with. A gentleman of a saturnine appearance, who sat in a corner, and sung the least, though he drank the most, of any one in company, was of the same opinion. He addressed them on their improper levity: he expected to have heard some rational conversation, he said; some plan for delivering them from their domestic enemies, the vile magistrates who oppressed, the viler spies who informed upon them; drinking and toasting was not the way, even if they toasted and drank to doomsday: but let every person single out an enemy, despatch him in the best manner he could; so glorious an example would be followed by their countrymen, applauded by the world, and Ireland would be free. Dr. heard this modest proposal of assassination, amidst the festivities of the table, with astonishment. Every one was silent. "This is the first time," whispered he to his right hand neighbour," that I ever heard butchering men, more than breaking their bones, was sport for the ladies." "When they are enemies to their country," replied this humane and judicious young lady, "what better can they expect?" He looked at her stedfastly, at the faces of the men and other women; he had mistaken the cause of their silence; it was not wonder, it was not horror, he would not say it was approbation. With the warmth of an uncontaminated mind, he reprobated the infamy of assassination, and the iniquity of such an advice; which was not more odious than absurd, not more shocking to humanity than opposite to policy; which would detach every thinking man from their cause, and, for every enemy taken off,

would raise up a hundred in his room. The grave gentleman looked at him without making any reply. "Who is that fellow," whispered he to the gentleman who sat next him," that has been preaching there? Is he a parson?" "No," the other answered; "he is a young physician." "Ecod, then," replied the other, " he will never live to be an old one; he is a damned aristocrat."

In the course of the evening he danced with a lady of a mild and prepossessing appearance; he did not talk politics to her, for he was discouraged by his unsuccessful whisper to his fair neighbour at table: she entered on the subject, however, herself. "I should never have thought you were an aristocrat," said she, “ if I hadn't heard it from your own lips." "My own lips, then," he replied, "must have uttered false words; for, I assure you, I am no aristocrat, but a friend to the rights-and better even than rights to the happiness of man.” "You take a wrong method of showing it, then," said she, "by pleading the cause of his oppressors: `vile wretches! I am sure death is too good for them; they deserve worse, if worse is possible." "It is not so much what they deserve we should consider,” replied he, " as what is proper for ourselves. I am sure, assassination is not a fit subject for a girl, nor, I trust, will it ever find an advocate in you." "Ah!" said she, shaking her head, "you are no true croppy." (The united Irishmen wore their hair short, and were therefore designated by the loyalists, in derision, croppies: persons who for convenience adopted this fashion often experienced, therefore, insult, and sometimes injury, from the zealots of loyalty, who carefully preserved their own long and