“You shall have the libation, as you call it, at all events,” said Hycy, resuming his seat, but feeling, at the same time, by no means satisfied with the lurking grin which occasionally played over Finigan’s features.

After much chat and banter, and several attempts on the part of Hycy to insinuate himself into the pedagogue’s confidence, he at length rose to go.  His companion was now in that state which strongly borders on inebriety, and he calculated that if it were possible to worm anything out of him, he was now in the best condition for it.  Every effort, however, was in vain; whenever he pressed the schoolmaster closely, the vague, blank expression of intoxication disappeared for a moment, and was replaced by the broad, humorous ridicule, full of self-possession and consciousness, which always characterized Finigan, whether drunk or sober.  The man was naturally cunning, and ranked among a certain class of topers who can be made drunk to a certain extent, and upon some particular subjects, but who, beyond that, and with these limitations, defy the influence of liquor.

Hycy Burke was one of those men who, with smart and showy qualities and great plausibility of manner, was yet altogether without purpose or steadfast principle in the most ordinary affairs of life.  He had no fixed notions upon either morals, religion, or politics; and when we say so, we may add, that he was equally without motive—­that is, without adequate motive, in almost everything he did.

The canvass was now going on with great zeal on the part of Chevydale and Vanston.  Sometimes Hycy was disposed to support the one and sometimes the other, but as to feeling a firm attachment to the cause or principles of either, it was not in his nature.

Indeed, the approach of a general election was at all times calculated to fill the heart of a thinking man with a strong sense of shame for his kind, and of sorrow for the unreasoning and brutal tendency to slavery and degradation which it exhibits.  Upon this occasion the canvass, in, consequence of the desperate struggle that must ensue, owing to the equality of the opposing forces, was a remarkably early one.  Party feeling and religious animosity, as is usual, ran very high, each having been made the mere stalking-horse or catchword of the rival candidates, who cared nothing, or at least very little, about the masses on either side, provided always that they could turn them to some advantage.

It was one morning after the canvass had been going forward with great activity on both sides for about a week, that Hycy, who now felt himself rather peculiarly placed, rode down to Clinton’s for the purpose of formally paying his addresses to the gauger’s interesting niece, and, if possible, ascertaining his fate from her own lips.  His brother Edward had now been brought home in accordance with the expressed determination of his father, with whom he was, unquestionably, a manifest favorite, a circumstance which caused Hycy to detest him, and also deprived him in a great degree of his mother’s affection.  Hycy had now resolved to pay his devoirs to Kathleen Cavanagh, as a dernier resort, in the event of his failing with Miss Clinton; for, as regarding affection, he had no earthly conception what it I meant.  With this view he rode down to Clinton’s as we said, and met Harry coming out of the stable.