of Orange symposium—­tea being served at long tables, and the platform decorated with a pianoforte.  The Mayor of the city presided, and between the speeches, songs, mostly in the Pyramus or condoling vein, were sung by a local tenor of renown.  It was very like an American tea-fight in the country, and the audience were unquestionably enthusiastic.  They quite cheered themselves hoarse when Lord Ernest Hamilton reminded them that he had made his first political speech in that hall on a “memorable occasion,” when, being an as yet unfledged Parliamentarian, he had taken a hand in a successful attempt to prevent the Lord Mayor of Dublin, Mr. Dawson, from making a speech in Derry.  One of my neighbours, a merchant in the city, told me that a project is afoot for tearing down the old hall in which we met “to enlarge the street,” but he added that “the people of Derry were too proud of their history to allow it!”

I understood him to say it is one of the very few buildings in Derry which witnessed the famous siege, and the breaking of the boom.

We left the “revel” early, caught a fast train to Newtown-Stewart, and returned here an hour ago through a driving snowstorm, most dramatically arranged to enhance the glow and genial charm of our welcome.

BARON’S COURT, Saturday, Feb. 11th.—­All the world was white with snow this morning.  Alas! for the deluded birds we have been listening to for days past; thrushes, larks, and as, I believe, blackbirds, though there is a tradition in these parts that no man ever heard the blackbird sing before the 15th of February.  I suspect it grew out of the date of St. Valentine’s Day.  We had some lovely music, however, within doors this morning; and, in spite of the snow and the chill wind, a little fairy of a girl, with her groom, went off like mad across country on her pony, “Guinea Pig,” to fetch the mails from Newtown-Stewart.

Not long after breakfast came in from Letterkenny Sergeant Mahony of the constabulary, on whose testimony Father M’Fadden was convicted.  We had heard at Letterkenny that he was now on leave at Belfast, and Lord Ernest had kindly arranged matters so that he should come here and tell us his story of Gweedore.

An admirable specimen he is of a most admirable body of men.  He is as thoroughly Celtic in aspect as he is by name—­a dark Celt, with a quiet resolute face, and a wiry well-built frame.

Nothing could be better than his manner and bearing, at once respectful and self-respectful:  that manner of a natural gentleman one so often sees in the Irish peasant.  He is a devout Catholic, but no admirer of Father M’Fadden.

As to his evidence, he explains very clearly that he was not sent to report Father M’Fadden’s speech at all, but to note and take down and report language used in the speech of a sort to excite the people against the law.  He was selected for this duty for three reasons:  he is a Donegal man who has lived at Gweedore for sixteen years; he is a fair stenographer; and he speaks Irish, in which language Father M’Fadden made his speech.