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HEART'S SWEETEST CHILD, THIS IS TO TAEE !
Years hence, some may say: “ Thus and thus thought thy father.”
But thou mayest open this book, and say: “Not so; for thus and thus, thought my father ; and dearly, dearly loved he me.” 1
THE Editor thinks it right to subjoin the following: comment were superfluous.
“ So you have been getting up something Irish; “Irish Priest,' I hear. Irish bother ! Heavens, have we not enough of Ireland ? Irish politics, Irish distresses, Irish potatoes, Irish peasants ! Irish devil, I say. Let them howl, and die!
“ Irish, quotha! By-and-by, I suppose, we must adopt the brogue; send our children to Dublin to complete their education ; and ask Her Majesty to arrange so as to present us with an Irish prince, and hold her court i’ the Castle, on the strength of it?
“ And why not ? But I am sick of it; of every thing Irish; the people — the potatoes — the
country; which, from my soul, I wish were a thousand fathoms in the abyss, so that leviathan might choose her brine-washed valleys as the place of his repose !”
It was hoped, however, that one might be excused for taking an interest in the land of one's nativity ; in feelings, ways of thinking, unintelligible, perchance, in the high-pressure, albeit narrow, atmosphere of London : for retorting indignant disclaimer to endless falsifications and confident mistatements; and for registering a voice of intensest sympathy in favour of a despoiled, neglected, and ill-used people, whose destitution, the result of revolting omission and long-accumulating wrong, calls to all the gates of heaven for redress; and whose blood, for blood it is, whether shed by the sword, or famine-drained, must otherwise, soon or late, bring down the vengeance of God on the oppressor!