"October, 1796.

6

"I told you, the last time I wrote, how much the society of our old neighbours was broken by the discordance of their political sentiments. You desired me to tell you how they are. I can only answer your inquiry by telling you they live.' Mr. Nugent has built an addition to his house, and become a violent tool of the Government. Whether his mansion has been amended in an equal ratio to his politics, I cannot pretend to say; but I fear his fortune by both has suffered deterioration. You know my opinion of his understanding was never flattering, and I conceive him to be just a character fit for persecution, when prompted by a powerful but unprincipled aristocracy. Nugent will be the puppet, dangled by hands behind the curtain, and, in these dreadful days, may be made a terrible engine of oppression. His house is always filled with company, and rather resembles an officer's barrack than a private habitation; and, notwithstanding its being the focus for horse, foot, and artillery, the Misses Nugent still remain unwedded.

"Of M'Cullogh I know, unwillingly, more than I do of Mr. Nugent. He, you are aware, purchased the estate of the unfortunate Fitzmaurice, and, as his new purchase stretches along the lake, parallel to the Castle Carra property, he set up a claim to Islandbeg and Islandmore. However, the islands and royalties of the whole lake were found to be vested in me; and his lawyer, fortunately, could make out no feasible claim, by which he might litigate their ownership. Finding his hopes of gaining those beautiful little islands by litigation desperate, he offered me 1000/. for them (the fellow's made of money). I returned an answer, that, in that little sacred spot, my ancestors, for many a generation, reposed; and I would not barter the last resting-place of the O'Haras for the six thousand acres which composed the Fitzmaurice estate. I am told he was furious, but, as he knew he dare not turn restive, like an uneasy horse, he contented himself with champing on the bit a little.

"This man's extraordinary rise in life would appear fabulous, did we not know the fact to

be past disbelief. His father was an orphan, and when a boy, our old herd, Paurick More,' (Big Pat,) remembers him for a short time in the kitchen of Castle Carra, assisting your grandfather's cook as turf-boy. He left this house, and soon after the country, for ever. Latterly, for five or six years, the name of M'Cullogh was known as a purchaser of properties in the county, and suddenly the menial's son returned. What will not money do? Every one in the neighbourhood, but the disgraced owner of Castle Carra, visited and invited the ci-devant kitchen-boy's descendant. Determined to raise a name, he is building an over-grown house, and seeking a matrimonial alliance to perpetuate it. Lord Loftus has borrowed 30,000l. from him, and actually countenanced his addresses to Lady Constantia, your old flame. Nothing, however, could bring her ladyship to listen to his detested overtures, and, they say, he is now looking after the Baronet's sister. But to have done with him, I shall sketch his appearance in the hue and cry style:- M'Cullogh is about five feet, two inches and a half in height; round

shoulders, in-kneed, clumsy figure, much inclined to corpulency, scorbutic face, grey eyes, and snub nose; has an awkward, shambling walk, with a loud and vulgar manner of speaking. Such is the lord of three estates-such the builder of Belvue, and such the lover of Lady Constantia Loftus!"

"Nov. 1796.

"I introduced Mr. M'Cullogh to you in my last letter but one; and if you recollect aright, I told you that I refused to let him have the islands for love, law, or money. If you have forgotten these circumstances, he has not; but to the detail. We had a meeting of grandjurors, magistrates, and gentry, to petition parliament against the Roman Catholic claims. I attended to oppose this measure, as I have uniformly done since it became the fashion to send a yearly tirade to parliament against the Papishes, as these ill-starred Irishmen are called by the yeomen who sign it. In the course of the proceedings I spoke and dissented; the newspapers say the speech was good; all I know is, that it was too true. Mr. McCullogh, however, was determined to give me a dressing

(his own words in a whisper to the sheriff), and made a most brutal exhibition. He poured forth in bad English, and worse sense, a furious libel against the Papists, and wondered how a gentleman, who was seldom seen at church, (meaning me) could presume to talk of matters of religion. I coolly replied, that I thought it was as illiberal as impertinent in any man to question the religious opinions of his neighbours; as to my own part, whatever might be defective in mine, I trusted the morality of my character was not of a questionable complexion. (Hear, hear,' from friends and foes.) I continued This testimony, gentlemen, is the more grateful, as I hope it will tacitly repel the irreligious charge brought against me by the honourable gentleman,'-(strong emphasis here.)—' I never arraigned any one for his faith, and I never knew, nor asked, what were the religious opinions of the high-minded gentleman opposite to me, who has dignified this county by selecting it for his residence. But, gentlemen, if there be any liberality in my conduct, I inherit it from my father; for I will be bold in asserting that he never questioned the