those men the new Government relied, and relied with safety.  The country was in a tumult, the bigoted party threatened an insurrection; and they did so, not because they felt themselves in a position to effect it, but in order to alarm and intimidate the Government.  On the other hand, the Catholics, who had given decided proofs of their loyalty by refusing to join the Pretender, now expressed their determination to support the Government if an outbreak among that section of the Protestant party to which we have just alluded should take place.

But perhaps the real cause of the conduct of the Government might be traced to Whitecraft’s outrage upon a French subject in the person of the Abbe ------.  The matter, as we have stated, was seriously taken up by the French Ambassador, in the name, and by the most positive instructions, of his Court.  The villain Whitecraft, in consequence of that wanton and unjustifiable act, went far to involve the two nations in a bitter and bloody war.  England was every day under the apprehension of a French invasion, which, of course, she dreaded; something must be done to satisfy the French Court.  Perhaps, had it not been for this, the general outrages committed upon the unfortunate Catholics of Ireland would never have become the subject of a detailed investigation.  An investigation, however, took place, by which a system of the most incredible persecution was discovered, and a milder administration of the laws was found judicious, in order to conciliate the Catholic party, and prevent them from embracing the cause of the Pretender.  At all events, what between the necessity of satisfying the claims of the French Government, and in apprehension of a Catholic defection, the great and principal criminal was selected for punishment.  The Irish Government, however, who were already prepared with their charges, found themselves already anticipated by Mr. Hastings, a fact which enabled them to lie on their oars and await the result.

Such was the state and condition of affairs as the assizes were within ten days of opening.

One evening about this time the old squire, who never remained long in the same mode of feeling, sent for his daughter to the dining-room, where he was engaged at his Burgundy.  The poor girl feared that he was about to introduce the painful subject which she dreaded so much—­that is to say, the necessity of giving her evidence against Reilly, After some conversation, however, she was relieved, for he did not allude to it; but he did to the fate of Reilly himself, the very subject which was wringing her heart with agony.

“Helen,” said he, “I have been thinking of Reilly’s affair, and it strikes me that he may be saved, and become your husband still; because, you know, that if Whitecraft was acquitted, now that he has been publicly disgraced, I’d see the devil picking his bones—­and very hard picking he’d find them—­before I’d give you to him as a wife.”