LITERATURE.

Globe, Volume IV, Issue 310, 10 June 1875, Page 3

LITERATURE.

GOOD FOR EVIL. (Dublin University Magazine.') ( Continued.") After calling the Earl ' one of those men who were plague-spots in thecountry, and by whose baneful efforts alone, Ireland was kept back in the path of progress,' Mr Clarnpit continued : 'His factious parliamentary opposition strangled our scheme of a tunnel through the Shrugh; and as long as we perform the weary circuit of that hill, which blocks up the entrance to our town, so long shall Ave remember by whom we are kept from reaching our homes by the shorter and* more obvious way. But in this matter of the tunnel we were not unanimous. There were two opinions in the town, and our peer chose to side with the factious minority. We let that pass, however. . Then came another question, the deepening of the bed of the Cull, and the contemplated navigation improvements. As to this we were all of one mind. The very children in the schools knew the advantages of water communication, yet here again the local magnate seized the opportunity of opposing our interests, and, by his flagrant misrepresentations, prevented the Government from granting us the loan, without which he well knew the works could not be carried out. Whatever people at a distance may think of his words, we know what motives prompted him to search far and wide till he found an engineer, who valued his professional reputation so little, as to declare that our river could not be made navigable for barges even,?without an impossible outlay in works and locks, if, indeed, it could be made so at all. Our peer was afraid lest he should be obliged, for appearance' sake, to take a small share in the work. This is our debut in the arena of political life. We are not a day old yet, but, nevertheless, we will tell this nobleman, all Earl though he be, that he will find the Radical infant more than a match for his mature malice. We take our stand upon the broad basis of public right, and no considerations of self-interest, or aristocratic menaces, shall be able to make us withdraw one inch from our proud position. Let the representatives of effete systems of vindictive oppression take heed; and, above all, let the descendant of the sausage-eating Williamite filibuster know that now, indeed, for the first time, his conduct will be criticised, his movements watched, his designs detected, and their mischievous consequences as much as possible averted.' It would be hard to describe the feelings with which the Earl of Killcullen read this attack upon his character and conduct, as he sat in his lonely study. He lived for the most part a solitary life. He was a widower, and his only son, Lord Wurstesser, was a guardsman, and lived in England most of the year. Lord Killcullen could not bear London, but made a pilgrimage there every May, and remained four weeks, devoting very little of his time or attention to society, but getting through a good deal of business, and enjoying a good deal of his son's company—for, unlike the rest of the world, Wurstesser did not find his father a disagreeable man, and showed him an amount of respect and. attention not often vouchsafed by young men about town to old fathers from the country. It was rather a touching sight, this devotion of the polished young guardsman for his gruff for-bidding-looking parent, and the world praised it as something quite extraordinary; nut Lord Wurstesser seemed not to notice their admiration of his excellence, and took no credit to himself for loving his old father. But to return to the Earl in his study. Over the fireplace there Avas a dim picture of the ancester of the era of the Revolution, to whom the present Earl bore some resemblance, despite the difference between a few grey hairs and a mass of flowing curls falling down over a cuirass. Over the door, in satin and buckram, sat the first Earl's German Frau, in a stiff, gilded chair, with crossed hands, half smothered in beautiful point lace. To her right hung the portrait of her only son, a young man, who, when middle-aged, married an Irish heiress, in this way repairing some of the damage done . to his patrimony by a wild youthful career. Ever since the Killcullen stock had been transplanted into Irish soil, it had flourished more and more; and as Lord Killcullen's eyes wandered over the column and a half of abuse in the newspaper on his knee, he wondered what on earth he had ever done to deserve such hatred. He certainly was rich, but he knew what large sums he had given back to the soil whence he had taken his wealth; he knew also how well housed his tenants were, and how little misery there was on his property, He certainly had thrown the whole weight of his power against what he believed were impracticable schemes; but was he expected to help blind folly to work mischief? The only place where the shoe pinched was when he found himself accused of stinginess. He felt he had not been liberal, but there was no love to his neighbors in his heart to make him so. He had never been fairly dealt with by them. Had they listened to his advice, or done anything to induce him to made special sacrifices for them ? Absentees were abused, but could any absentee be assailed as he had been ? For a moment he felt so angry, he half resolved to shut up his dreary mansion, and migrate to England or the Continent. He crushed the Moderator in his hand and flung it into the fire, and his face flushed as he watched it burning, and, when it was consumed, he lay back in his chair and thought deeply. Then came out tbe dogged resolution of his nature. He had never been happy in the place where his lot in life had been cast, but that was no reason for him to yield to misfortune. He would not let a wretched newspaper drive him out of the country. Besides, he thought it his duty to remain, and watcli those whom he considered perfectly incapable of taking care of themselves; and this idea settled the matter, for the worst of the Killcullens never forgot the duties of their position .

After about half an hour's painful meditation, the Earl moved over to his writing table, and wrote a note to the Bishop, complaining of the sermons of his parish clergyman. As it was rather a characteristic epistle, it may as well be given : "My dear Lord, —I make no apology for troubling you on a matter which I consider of vital importance to the Church. You have appointed a young man to perform the duties of the church where I attend public worship, and that young man is neglecting his business. He receives a certain stipend, and one of his duties is to preach. He is a very ignorant young man, and needs to study much to produce a discouree of even

tolerable merit; notwithstanding this, he is taking upon himself to pour forth from his pulpit extempore utterances, remarkable only for their volume and utter want of meaning. This sort of thing is becoming common in your lordship's diocese, and I for one beg leave to protest against it. The other evening, when our young ' pastor,' as he styles himself, suddenly and unexpectedly found himself at a loss for something to say, he made the astounding assertion that the ocean was full of water. Can absurdity go farther? Is it a compliment to his congregation to treat them like this? Does your lordship imagine that extempore effusions are better than written sermons, the result of, at any rate, deliberate composition? Does a writer who wishes to write convincingly, taik volubly, and get a short-hand writer to take down his words? I wonder what a publisher would say to such a proceeding?" The bishop disposed of, the Earl unlocked a drawer, whence he took out his bank accounts, and set to work hard at sums in which the cyphers outnumbered the digits by more than ten to one. Then he wrote another letter, referring very often to his sums, and copying some of them. In his whole life his face had never looked harder or more resolute than [while he wrote that letter. As soon as it was finished and sealed, he returned to his armchair, and lapsed into a brown study. To judge by his face, he might have been devising a scheme by which to ruin his enemy, Clarnpit. As a matter of fact, however, the old man was thinking of some low marshy lands called the Inches, just outside the town of Killcullen. While he was still absorbed in his reflections, a servant entered the room, and announced the the arrival of a deputation from Killcullen. Something like a groan escaped from the Earl's lips as he rose slowly from his chair. The deputation was introduced by Mr Spiler, the Earl's attorney and man of business, and consisted of the most violent and radical members of the town council. Among them stood Mr Clarnpit, perfectly unabashed, and not one whit ashamed to meet the man whom he had denounced so recently in his paper. The editor stood with his arms folded, gazing defiantly up at another portrait of "the sausage-eating filibuster" that hung on the drawing-room wall. Certainly the editor's insolent sneer was no match for the old Baron's scornful, downward gaze, and the contrast in the appearance of the two men might have made, the Earl smile, if his mind had been less irritated. As it was, when he saw Clarnpit, his colour rose and his brows contracted. 'Good morning, gentlemen,' he said, coldly, with a studied bow. The members of the deputation, as they walked down the avenue, had felt pretty much at their ease; they had sauntered slowly along by twos and threes, and had expressed their opinions of the Earl pretty freely, so long as only his high elms and deer could hear them, but now, once they felt themselves in his actual presence and under the shadow of the lordly walls of Knocknabarron, an uneasy awkwardness fell upon them. In vain they held their hats before their chests or behind their backs; in vain they cleared their throats, patted their waistcoats, and looked at one another. Not one man among them, except Clarnpit, could resist the influence of the place or the Earl's stern, forbidding glance, as he looked from one to the other of them, mutely desiring them to begin their statement. Clarnpit alone looked quite at his ease. He worked his feet about on the velvety crimson carpet, till the thick pile was beaten down and stuck together by the damp mud from his rough boots; and he met the Earl's look wholly undaunted. Mr Spiler introduced the deputation in a few words, in which he disclaimed any share in their objects or deliberations.

'My lord,' the Mayor began, nervously, ' you are aware of the matter respecting which we have waited upon you to-day ?' The Mayor would have wished to be more obsequious, but he felt that Clampit's eye was upon him. The Earl made no reply, but nodded his head slowly. 'We have often had occasion to regret,' continued the head of the civics, ' that your lordship, actuated no doubt by the best motives, has nevertheless found it necessary to oppose the expressed wishes, and—a—the cherished projects of our town. We have been, in some cases, obliged to yield to your lordship's adverse opinion and influence, but on one subject we feel solemnly bound to urge upon your lordship a reconsideration of your decision. We are aware that what appears to us no more than the conscientious discharge of our duties may seem to your lordship presumption and interference, and —a—an undue persistence in wishing to have our own way; but however this may be, we beg your lordship to do us the favor of discussing with this deputation —which represents the intelligence and enterprise of our community—the question of the improvement of the navigation of the Cull." The Mayor pulled up, quite out of breath, and a gratifying murmur of ' hear, hear' greeted the end of this speech. The Earl rubbed his chin with his hand, and said slowly, and very disagreeably, it seemed to his hearers—- ' Gentlemen, —I have no objection whatever to discuss this matter with you if there is any chance of my being able to prove to you the impossibility of your projects, and I thank you for your recognition of the fact, that however much I may at different times have found myself compelled to oppose your wishes, I have always been actuated by honorable motives.' It might have been fancy, Mr Clampit afterwards thought, but he could almost have sworn he saw a satirical expression in the Earl's eyes—his eyes only—at that moment. The deputation winced. 'You are aware,' continued the nobleman, ' that when Mr Jones was over here last year, I requested him to report to me on the scheme. How hopelessly adverse his ideas were to your wishes, I need scarcely remind you.' ' But Mr Magrath, brother to this gentleman here,' expostulated the Mayor, pointing to one of the deputation, ' has also examined the river, and pronounces favorably as to the project. One engineer's opinion may differ from another's. Engineers can't always agree no more than doctors.' To be continued.