on that account be thrown away.  Looking to my profession, I find that many things are open to a barrister with a seat in Parliament, and that the House need not interfere much with a man’s practice. ("Not if he has got to the top of his tree,” said the doctor.)

My chief doubt arose from the fact of your old friendship with Lord Tulla, whose brother has filled the seat for I don’t know how many years.  But it seems that George Morris must go; or, at least, that he must be opposed by a Liberal candidate.  If I do not stand, some one else will, and I should think that Lord Tulla will be too much of a man to make any personal quarrel on such a subject.  If he is to lose the borough, why should not I have it as well as another?

I can fancy, my dear father, all that you will say as to my imprudence, and I quite confess that I have not a word to answer.  I have told myself more than once, since last night, that I shall probably ruin myself. ("I wonder whether he has ever told himself that he will probably ruin me also,” said the doctor.) But I am prepared to ruin myself in such a cause.  I have no one dependent on me; and, as long as I do nothing to disgrace my name, I may dispose of myself as I please.  If you decide on stopping my allowance, I shall have no feeling of anger against you. ("How very considerate!” said the doctor.) And in that case I shall endeavour to support myself by my pen.  I have already done a little for the magazines.

Give my best love to my mother and sisters.  If you will receive me during the time of the election, I shall see them soon.  Perhaps it will be best for me to say that I have positively decided on making the attempt; that is to say, if the Club Committee is as good as its promise.  I have weighed the matter all round, and I regard the prize as being so great, that I am prepared to run any risk to obtain it.  Indeed, to me, with my views about politics, the running of such a risk is no more than a duty.  I cannot keep my hand from the work now that the work has come in the way of my hand.  I shall be most anxious to get a line from you in answer to this.

   Your most affectionate son,

   Phineas Finn.

I question whether Dr. Finn, when he read this letter, did not feel more of pride than of anger,—­whether he was not rather gratified than displeased, in spite of all that his common-sense told him on the subject.  His wife and daughters, when they heard the news, were clearly on the side of the young man.  Mrs. Finn immediately expressed an opinion that Parliament would be the making of her son, and that everybody would be sure to employ so distinguished a barrister.  The girls declared that Phineas ought, at any rate, to have his chance, and almost asserted that it would be brutal in their father to stand in their brother’s way.  It was in vain that the doctor tried to explain that going into Parliament could not help a