Our readers, we presume, have already observed, that however tenderly our friend Solomon felt for the shearing habit of the poor, he was somehow rather reluctant in offering a word in season to any one else.
What his motive could be for this we are really at a loss to know, unless it proceeded from a charitable consciousness, that as there was no earthly hope of improving them by admonition, it was only deepening their responsibility to give it--for Solomon was charitable in all things.
"Call in Tom Maguire, from Edenmore," said Val. "Now," he proceeded, "this is a stiff-necked scoundrel, who refuses to vote for us; but it will go hard, or I shall work him to some purpose. Well, Maguire," he proceeded, after the man had entered, "I'm glad to see you--how do you do?"
"I'm much obliged to you, sir," replied the other--"why just able to make both ends barely meet, and no more; but as the time goes, sure it's well to be able to do that same, thank goodness."
"Tom," said Solomon, "I am pleased to hear you speak in such a spirit; that was piously expressed--very much so indeed."
"Well, Tom," proceeded Val; "I suppose you are prepared?"
"Why, sir," replied Tom, who, by the way, was a bit of a wag; "you know, or at least Mr. M'Slime does, that it's good to be always prepared. The rent in full is there, sir," he added, laying it down on the table; "and I'll thank you for the receipt."
Val deliberately reckoned over the gold--for in no other coin would he receive it--and then drew a long breath, and appeared satisfied, but not altogether free from some touch of hesitation.
"Ay," said he, "it is all right, Tom, certainly--yes, certainly, it is all right. Darby, fill Tom a bumper of whiskey--not that--I say the large glass, you scoundrel."
"Throth, Captain, 'tisn't my heart 'ud hindher me to give him the largest in the house; but I have a conscientious scruple against doin'
what I believe isn't right. My Bible tells me--. Well, well, sure I'm only obeying orders. Here, Tom," he added, handing him the large bumper.
"Confound the fellow," said Val; "ever since he has become a convert to Mr. Lucre there's no getting a word out of him that hasn't religion in it."
"Ah, Captain," replied Darby, "sure Mr. M'Slime there knows, that 'out of the abundance of the heart the mouth spaiketh.'"
"I cannot answer for what you are latterly, Darby," replied Solomon--"thank you, Tom," to Maguire, who had held his glass in his hand for some time, and at length hurriedly drank their healths;--"but I know that the first spiritual nutrition you received, was at least from one who belonged to an Apostolical Church--a voluntary Presbytery--unpolluted by the mammon of unrighteousness, on which your Church of Ireland is established."
"But you know," said Darby, "that we're ordhered to make for ourselves, friends of that same mammon of unrighteousness."
"Upon my honor," said Phil, "I know that you're a hypocritical old scoundrel. Be off to h--l, sir, and hold your tongue."
"Throth and I will, Captain Phil--I will then," and he was silent; but his face, as he glanced first at Tom Maguire, and then at Solomon and the rest, was a perfect jewel, beyond all price.
"Tom," proceeded Val, "I hope you've thought over what I mentioned to you on our canvass the other day?"
"I have, sir," said Tom, "and I'm still of the same opinion. I'll vote for Hartley and no other."
"You don't imagine of what service Lord Cumber and I could be of to you."
"I know of no service Lord Cumber ever was to any of his tenants,"
replied Maguire; "except, indeed, to keep them ground to the earth, in supportin' his extravagance, and that he might spend their hard earnings in another country, not caring one damn whether they live or starve.
It's for that raison, sir, I vote, and will vote against him."
"Well, but," said Val, whose brow began to darken, "you have not considered what an enemy he can be to those like you, whose obstinacy draws down his resentment upon them. Have you ever considered that-- eh?"
"I don't see how he can readily be a worse enemy to me, or any tenant he has, than he is at present. I'll trouble you for my receipt, Mr.
M'Clutchy, but I won't vote for him. I beg your pardon, sir," said he, on looking at the receipt which Val, as he spoke, had handed to him; "this isn't signed--your name's not to it."
"Show," said Val; "upon my life it is not. You are right, Maguire; but the truth is, M'Slime, that while speaking on any subject that affects Lord Cumber's interests, I am scarcely conscious of doing anything else.
Now, sir," he proceeded, addressing Maguire, with a brow like midnight; "there is your receipt--bring it home--show it to your family--and tell them it is the last of the kind you will ever receive on the property of Lord Cumber. I shall let you know, sir, that I am somewhat stronger than you are."
"That's all to be proved yet, sir," said the sturdy farmer: "you know the proverb, sir--'man proposes, but God disposes.'"
"What do you mean, sirra? What language is this to my father? Be off to h--l or Connaught, sir, or we'll make it worse for you--ha!--bow-wow."
He did not utter the last interjection, but his face expressed it.
"That's not the religious individual I took him to be," said Solomon; "there is much of the leaven of iniquity in him."
"Religion be hanged, M'Slime!" said Phil, "what religion could you expect a Papist like him to have?"
"M'Murt, call in old Paddy Corrigan."
A venerable old man, who, though nearly a hundred years old, stood actually as erect as the Apollo Belvidere himself, now entered. He was, however, but poorly clad, and had nothing else remarkable about him, with the exception of a rich wig, which would puzzle any one to know how it had got upon his head. On entering, he took off his hat as usual, and paid his salutation.
"What the devil do you mean, Corrigan?" said Phil, once more in a fluster; "what kind of respect is that in our presence?--what kind of respect is that, I say? Take off your wig, sir."
"With great respect to you, sir," replied Corrigan, "I have been in as jinteel company as this, and it's the first time ever I was axed to take my wig off."
"Phil," said Val, who really felt somewhat ashamed of this ignorant and tyrannical coxcomb, "Phil, my good boy, I think you are rather foolish--never mind him, Paddy, he is only jesting."
"Are not you the man?" asked Solomon, "in whom our rector, Mr. Lucre, takes such a deep and Christian interest?"
"I am, sir," returned Corrigan.
"And pray, what interest does he take in you?" said Val.
"Troth, sir," replied Paddy, "he is very kind and very good to me.
Indeed, he's the generous gentleman, and the good Christian, that doesn't forget Paddy Corrigan."
"But, Paddy, what does he do for you?" asked the agent.
"Why, sir," replied Corrigan, "he gives: me a cast-off wig once a year, God bless him!--This is his I have on me. Throth, ever since I began to wear them I feel a strong-relish for beef and mutton, and such fine feedin'; but somehow, God forgive me, I! haven't the same leanin' to devotion that I used to have."
"Paddy, my old boy," said Phil, "that alters the case altogether. I thought the wig was as Popish as yourself; but had I known that it was a staunch and constitutional concern, of sound High Church principle, I should have treated it with respect. I might have known, indeed, that it could not be a Popish one, Paddy, for I see it has the thorough Protestant curl."
The father looked at Phil, to ascertain whether he was serious or not, but so unmeaning or equivocal was the expression of his countenance that he could make nothing out of it.
"You are reasoning," said Solomon, "upon wrong, certainly not upon purely gospel principles, Phil. The wig at this moment has a great deal more of Popery in it than ever it had of Protestantism."
"And, if I'm not much mistaken, more honesty, too," observed Val, who had not forgotten the opposition he received in the grand jury room by Lucre's friends; nor the fact that the same reverend gentleman had taken many fat slices of his mouth on several other occasions.
"Well, then, confound the wig," said Phil, "and that's all I have to say about it."
Paddy then paid his rent, and having received a receipt, was about to go, when Val thus addressed him:--"Paddy, I hope you will not hesitate to give up that farm of yours at Slatbeg; I told you before that if you do, I'll be a friend to you for life."
"I'll sell it, sir," said Paddy; "but surely you wouldn't have me to give up my interest in such a farm as that."
"I'll make it up to you in other ways," said Val; "and I'll mention you besides to Lord Cumber."
"I'm thankful to you, sir," said Paddy; "but it's in heaven I'll be, most likely, before ever you see his face."