strictly; as was my servant and Mr. Rivet, and also the captain upon his arrival from St. Sebastian. You will find in the appendix a copy of those interrogatories which I afterwards made interest to obtain. (See Appendix No.

XIV.) You will perceive by them in how difficult a situation I was placed, and judge whether my persecutors, had they been in my place, would have acted so truly or so honorably.

It may at some future day be thought worthy of enquiry why I was thus piratically sent to Bordeaux: but had those events which some so confidently expected at that crisis, taken place, my destruction might have easily been effected: for in such angry moments accusation may be heard, but not defence. Be it as it may, my way (was here again strewed with thorns, and bigotry and ignorance envenomed against me. There is every where unfortunately, a class to be met with of human beings leaning naturally to the side of power, however depraved or atrocious; and ever ready to enlist under the banners of oppression, and to join in cry of malice. With such I could naturally hold no friendship, nor look for any justice, much less for benevolence. With them the name

of honor and the love of their fellow-creatures is a jest: and never having felt the impulse of any generous feeling, they readily believe that there is no such thing. But I have had the mortification, here as in other places during the course of my persecution, of meeting with persons naturally good, and such as I could have wished to esteem, worked up by deceit and calumny to a pitch of uncharitableness not very distinguishable from the most odious vice. And this is the most lamentable of all the effects of partyspirit. Thus I, who certainly could boast of as fair titles

as ever man could, to the benevolence of my species, in every part of the world, found myself hunted by a kind of dumb persecution, for no other reason on earth than because I had already been the victim of my own generosity, and the perfidy of my enemies.

Instead of finding any elucidation of my new position, I was here more in the dark than ever: nor did I know to whom to apply for aid. For chusing to be of no party, The merchants of my own coun

I had claims on none.

try, who carried on their commerce by connivance, were afraid to serve me for fear of mischief to themselves. I early applied to one of them most noted for liberality, and he refused to have any thing to do with my signature, but offered to lend me a small sum of money, which I refused upon such terms. It is fair to say that I had thought it just to apprize him of that diabolical act of parliament, which made it felony to correspond with me. This I conceived it but candid to do: and it had alarmed him probably for his friends who resided in Ireland, and were under the scourge of the laws made by that ever memorable parliament. I confessed to him also that my servant had been tortured with impunity; and it is not to be wondered at that he should fear, after such information, to do an act which otherwise among civilized beings was but a thing of

course.

I was one morning sitting up in my bed, ruminating on this disagreeable subject, when it came into my recollection that there was here a house of commerce, of which the principal was a Mr. Forster, whose son I had known in Oporto; and whom I knew to be the correspondent of several of my friends in the North of Ireland, as well as of Mr. Skeys who, with the privity of the Irish govern

ment, had given me letters of recommendation and credit in Portugal. I rose and went to his house, and introduced myself under these titles. I briefly and frankly exposed my situation to him. I found him at first not divested of the common prejudices; but I cut short his animadversions by shewing him all my passports and some letters of his correspondents. I then asked him if he would give me the sum of money I should have need of upon my bill? to which he consented. 44

The usual manner of drawing upon my country during the war, was under a fictitious date. With this form I did not chuse to comply: but for the safety of all concerned, I drew upon the same Mr. Skeys for the sum of fifty pounds, dating my draft Bordeaux: and under my signature I wrote, in nature of protest, that I had been sent there from Lisbon against my written and verbal protestation to the contrary: and that I was now in nature of a prisoner on parole, under the surveillance of the police. And indeed, so true was this fact, that for eighteen months that I inhabited Bordeaux and its neighborhood, I was constantly held by my passport to present myself every ten days before the municipality. I am at the same time

far from complaining of that circumstance. I see nothing but justice in it, as my claim went no further than to the hospitality due, even in time of war, to a persecuted stranger.

Although the service I received from Mr. Forster, namely, the discounting my bill, does not seem very important: yet considering the refinement of my persecution, and the unabating rancor, of which you will see more towards the conclusion of this narrative, I have rea son to be very grateful for it. But such was the effect

of terror, such the abuse of power towards me, that had not this very respectable gentleman donc me this good of fice, I have reason to think I should not at that juncture have found so much liberality elsewhere. Another act of kindness no less important was added to the obligation, that of forwarding to my family some account of my exist ence, and apprising the government in my name, which he undertook to do, of what had past.

I wrote besides to Mr. Skeys, upon whom I had drawn, a letter of advice, in which I requested him to reimburse himself by drawing upon my brother-in-law in Belfast; and I left the protest to work its own effect. I also wrote to Mr. Dobbs, to apprise him of the atrocities committed against me; and entreated him, not merely as my kinsman, but as one who had borne an active part in the melancholy negotiation abovementioned, to go to the castle and relate what had passed; and to say, that if any step was taken to molest me further, or to injure my securities, that I should then be obliged of necessity to vindicate myself by showers of proofs which might not be agreeable, Mr. Dobbs went accordingly to Mr. Cooke, who told him that if the representation I made was true, my bail had nothing to fear, and his advice to me was, to remain quiet. ly where I was, without taking any further steps.

It was in the latter end of July, that Mr. Forster sailed for Guernsey, from whence he was to proceed to England. And I finding the party spirit encreasing in the town of Bordeaux, and considering it my first duty to avoid entering in any manner into the affairs of a country where I was enjoying, by a special exception in my favor, protection and hospitality: and being also desirous of an economical retreat, I retired to the banks of the Dordogne, in the

neighbourhood of St. Andre Cusac, where I spent the remainder of the summer. And so well had I calculated what was about to happen, that the very day after my quitting Bordeaux, a movement took place which cost some lives, but which had no other result. It was during my residence in this retired spot, that I had the misfortune to loose my faithful servant, John Russell, who died of a fever, and was buried in the church-yard of St. Gervais, bearing upon his body to the grave, the marks of the torture he had undergone.

The death of this faithful friend, for so I must now call him, was indeed a poignant affliction. With a heart big with anguish, and eyes wet with unfeigned tears, I examined his dead body and contemplated the scars which the lash of his atrocious executioners had inflicted. His gallant and generous spirit was fled to the mansions of eternal rest! He was gone to appear before that Judge, in whose sight, servant and master, lord and peasant, stand in equal degree. If it be the will of that Righteous and Eternal Judge to confront the guilty with the innocent, what must be the wretchedness, what the atonement of those vicious men? In the whole course of his services, I had never once opened my mouth to him upon any subject of political concern; and the unvaried and voluntary respect he bore towards me, was a law which he had never once transgressed. He was as gentle as he was brave; and the most respectable inhabitants of the commune where he died, did not refuse to his memory the tribute of a tear. It was not for many days after, that mine ceased to flow: and when again on examining his effects, I perceived in one of his frocks the hole through which the cartridge of the Orangeman in Abbey-street had pierced,