her by observing that "the Irish were a very fine people, and a very handsome people. But that it was most certain a little occasional hanging, just now and then, did them no harm: and though they might not, in the present instance, be so deeply implicated in rebellious practices, as the loyal and vigilant prudence of his worthy friend, Darby Crawley, suggested, yet a little timely caution, and wholesome severity, rarely came amiss; that he would willingly lend his aid in examining into the circumstances of the case, and endeavour to dissipate her ladyship's fears by exploring their cause."

"The people of Ireland," said Judge Aubrey, in a tone between sullenness and indignation, "are like the people of other nations, pretty much what their government has made them. They are factious, because they are wretched; and it is the fashion of the day to give to

their local disturbances, to their resist ance to the collections of the tithes, they are unable to pay, to their murmurs against the taxes, which have reduced the country to ruin, and even to their personal and often barbarous conflicts among each other, the names of insurrection and rebellion. Mr. Crawley, Madam, is an old alarmist, and your ladyship is, I perceive, new to the modes by which affairs in this country are carried on."

"But when an armed force is at our gates," said Lady Dunore, in a tone of irritation and impatience, "when letters reach my hands, Judge Aubrey, which inform us that....

"The charge is prepared, the lawyers are met, The judges arrayed, a terrible sight,"

interrupted Lord Rosbrin, as he burst into the room, with a billiard eue in his hand for a wand,

Every thing is ready,” he observed: "the court waits, the prisoners are arrived, and the counsel will be here in a few moments."

"We have endeavoured to make things comfortable for you, Baron," said Lady Dunore, putting her arm through Baron Boulter's, and hurrying him towards the hall, where she was followed by Judge Aubrey, Mr. Daly, Lord Frederick, Mr. Heneage, Mr. Pottinger, and Lady Georgina.

There," said Lord Rosbrin, presenting two arm chairs to the judges, placed at the head of the hall, before a table covered with heavy volumes, "there, my lords, that is the awful seat of judgment. Here, Lady Georgina, this is your place, and your's, Eversham and Heneage: you are the special jury. You see we have a fine gallery, a charming audience," and he pointed to the corridore, which ran

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round the hall, and which was filled with valets-de-chambre, ladies' maids, with the inferior branches of the Dunore household; "and," he added, fixing some chairs and a table to the left, "this is the place for the counsel for the crown, the learned Crawleys, 'very Daniels ;' and the prisoners, you see my lords, occupy the lower part of the hall, the back-ground or portion filled up with guards, officers, mutes, and others: and the solitary female prisoner, the Queen Catherine of the trial, though in a rug cloak, is placed, in delicacy to her sex, in the shade of this recess and painted window."

Every thing was, indeed, in the order which Lord Rosbrin had described.

The prisoners occupied the foot of the hall. The New-Town Mount Crawley corps filled the portico. A woman, in a coarse grey cloak, and straw bonnet, drawn over her face, was seated in the

recess of the Gothic window; and the rest of the party were disposed of according to Lord Rosbrin's idea of the stage business of the trial in the Merchant of Venice.

On the countenance of Baron Boulter was painted an expression of great humour, as of one ready to be amused, as to amuse. Judge Aubrey was, on the contrary, sullenly looking over a volume of Hogarth, which lay before him on the table; and evidently out of patience and out of temper with the absurdity of the passing scene. Lady Dunore was fluttering about from place to place, and from person to person, in hysterical emotion, tears in her eyes, and smiles upon her lips; and Lord Rosbrin was beginning a speech from the trial of Queen Catherine, and had, in the legal phrase, got on his legs, when Mr. Crawley, his son, and sister, followed by his clerk, Jemmy Bryan,

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