fact is, that in the attainment of an object, where a sad-faced Englishman would despair, an Irishman will, probably, laugh, drink, weep, and fight, during his progress to accomplish it.  A Scotchman will miss it, perhaps, but, having done all that could be done, he will try another speculation.  The Irishman may miss it too; but to console himself he will break the head of any man who may have impeded him in his efforts, as a proof that he ought to have succeeded; or if he cannot manage that point, he will crack the pate of the first man he meets, or he will get drunk, or he will marry a wife, or swear a gauger never to show his face in that quarter again; or he will exclaim, if it be concerning a farm, with a countenance full of simplicity—­“God bless your honor, long life and honor to you, sir!  Sure an’ ’twas but a thrifle, anyhow, that your Reverence will make up for me another time.  An’ ’tis well I know your Lordship ’ud be the last man on airth to give me the cowld shoulder, so you would, an’ I an ould residenthur on your own father’s estate, the Lord be praised for that same!  An’ ’tis a happiness, an’ nothjn’ else, so it is, even if I payed double rint—­wherein, maybe, I’m not a day’s journey from that same, manin’ the double rint, your honor; only that one would do a great deal for the honor an’ glory of livin’ undher a raal gintleman—­an’ that’s but rason.”

There is, in short, a far-sightedness in an Irishman which is not properly understood, because it is difficult to understand it.  I do not think there is a nation on earth, whose inhabitants mix up their interest and their feelings together more happily, shrewdly, and yet less ostensibly, than Irishmen contrive to do.  An Irishman will make you laugh at his joke, while the object of that joke is wrapped up from you in the profoundest mystery, and you will consequently make the concession to a certain point of his character, which has been really obtained by a faculty you had not penetration to discover, or, rather, which he had too much sagacity to exhibit.  Of course, as soon as your back is turned, the broad grin is on him, and one of his cheeks is stuck out two inches beyond the other, because his tongue is in it at your stupidity, simplicity, or folly.  Of all the national characters on this habitable globe, I verily believe that that of the Irish is the most profound and unfathomable; and the most difficult on which to form a system, either social, moral, or religious.

It would be difficult, for example, to produce a more signal instance of energy, system, and perseverance than that exhibited in Ireland during the struggle for Emancipation.  Was there not flattery to the dust? blarney to the eyes? heads broken? throats cut? houses burned? and cattle houghed?  And why?  Was it for the mere pleasure of blarney—­of breaking heads (I won’t dispute the last point, though, because I scorn to give up the glory of the national character),—­of cutting throats—­burning houses—­or houghing cattle?  No; but to secure Emancipation.  In attaining that object was exemplified that Irish method of gaining a point.