the domination of the “uncrowned king” constantly reminds one of Froude’s vivid and vigorous sketch of the sway wielded by “Captain Dwyer” and “Joanna Maskell” from Mallow to Westmeath, between the years 1762 and 1765.  On that side of the quarrel there seems to be nothing very new under the sun in Ireland.  But the spirit and the forms of the Imperial authority over the country have unquestionably undergone a great change for the better, not only since the last century, but since the accession of Queen Victoria.

Upon the question of land improvements, Mr. Stacpoole told me, to-night, that he borrowed L1000 of the Government for drainage improvements on his property here, the object of which was to better the holdings of tenants.  Of this sum he had to leave L400 undrawn, as he could not get the men to work at the improvements, even for their own good.  They all wanted to be gangers or chiefs.  It reminded me of Berlioz’s reply to the bourgeois who wanted his son to be made a “great composer.”  “Let him go into the army,” said Berlioz, “and join the only regiment he is fit for.”  “What regiment is that?” “The regiment of colonels.”

In the course of the evening a report was brought out from Ennis to Colonel Turner.  He read it, and then handed it to me, with an accompanying document.  The latter, at my request, he allowed me to keep, and I must reproduce it here.  It tells its own tale.

A peasant came to the authorities and complained that he was “tormented” to make a subscription to a “testimonial” for one Austen Mackay of Kilshanny, in the County Clare, producing at the same time a copy of the circular which had been sent about to the people.  It is a cheaply-printed leaflet, not unlike a penny ballad in appearance, and thus it runs:—­

“Testimonial to Mr. AUSTEN MACKAY, Kilshanny, County Clare.

“We, the Nationalists and friends of Mr. Austen Mackay, at a meeting held in March 1887, agreed and resolved on presenting the long-tried and trusted friend—­the persecuted widow’s son—­with a testimonial worthy of the fearless hero who on several occasions had to hide his head in the caves and caverns of the mountains, with a price set on his body.  First, for firing at and wounding a spy in his neighbourhood, as was alleged in ’65, for which he had to stand his trial at Clare Assizes.  Again, for firing at and wounding his mother’s agent and under-strapper while in the act of evicting his widowed mother in the broad daylight of Heaven, thus saved his mother’s home from being wrecked by the robber agent, the shock of which saved other hearths from being quenched; but the noble widow’s son was chased to the mountains, where he had to seek shelter from a thousand bloodhounds.