utton broth for thirty yards on
each side of the premises--and as good luck would have it, I see old Daly
the counsellor, as they call him, he's the very man to get to meet you,
you always liked a character, eh!"

Saying this, O'Flaherty disengaged himself from my arm, and hurried
across the street towards a portly middle-aged looking gentleman, with
the reddest face I ever beheld. After a brief but very animated
colloquy, Tom returned, and informed that that all was right; he had
secured Daly.

"And who is Daly?" said I, inquiringly, for I was rather interested in
hearing what peculiar qualification as a diner-out the counsellor might
lay claim to, many of Tom's friends being as remarkable for being the
quizzed as the quizzers.

"Daly," said he, "is the brother of a most distinguished member of the
Irish bar, of which he himself is also a follower, bearing however, no
other resemblance to the clever man than the name, for as assuredly as
the reputation of the one is inseparably linked with success, so
unerringly is the other coupled with failure, and strange to say, that
the stupid man is fairly convinced that his brother owes all his success
to him, and that to his disinterested kindness the other is indebted for
his present exalted station. Thus it is through life; there seems ever
to accompany dullness a sustaining power of vanity, that like a
life-buoy, keeps a mass afloat whose weight unassisted would sink into
obscurity. Do you know that my friend Denis there imagines himself the
first man that ever enlightened Sir Robert Peel as to Irish affairs; and,
upon my word, his reputation on this head stands incontestably higher
than on most others."

"You surely cannot mean that Sir Robert Peel ever consulted with, much
less relied upon, the statements of such a person, as you described you
friend Denis to be?"

"He did both--and if he was a little puzzled by the information,
the only disgrace attaches to a government that send men to rule over
us unacquainted with our habits of thinking, and utterly ignorant of the
language--ay, I repeat it--but come, you shall judge for yourself; the
story is a short one, and fortunately so, for I must hasten home to give
timely notice of your coming to dine with me. When the present Sir
Robert Peel, then Mr. Peel, came over here, as secretary to Ireland,
a very distinguished political leader of the day invited a party to meet
him at dinner, consisting of men of different po