o run about Barbadoes like one
roaring lion, seeking what he may lay hold off, and cram into his dam
fiery jaw."

"That will do, Peter," said O'Brien; "we have the cream of it I think."

We left the house and walked down to the boat. "Surely. O'Brien," said
I, "this should not be permitted?"

"He's no worse than his neighbours," replied O'Brien, "and perhaps does
less harm. I admired the rascal's ingenuity; he gave his flock what, in
Ireland, we should call a pretty broad hint."

"Yes, there was no mistaking him; but is he a licensed preacher?"

"Very little license in his preaching, I take it; no, I suppose he has
had a _call_."

"A call!--what do you mean?"

"I mean that he wants to fill his belly. Hunger is a call of nature,
Peter."

"He seems to want a good many things, if we were to judge by his
catalogue: what a pity it is that these poor people are not better
instructed."

"That they never will be, Peter, while there is, what may be called,
free trade in religion."

"You speak like a Catholic, O'Brien."

"I am one," replied he. And here our conversation ended, for we were
close to the boat, which was waiting for us on the beach.

The next day a man-of-war brig arrived from England, bringing letters
for the squadron on the station. I had two from my sister Ellen, which
made me very uncomfortable. She stated, that my father had seen my
uncle, Lord Privilege, and had had high words with him; indeed, as far
as she could ascertain of the facts, my father had struck my uncle, and
had been turned out of the house by the servants. That he had returned
in a state of great excitement, and had been ill ever since. That there
was a great deal of talk in the neighbourhood on the subject--people
generally highly blaming my father's conduct and thinking that he was
deranged in his intellect,--a supposition very much encouraged by my
uncle. She again expressed her hopes of my speedy return. I had now
been absent nearly three years, and she had been so uncomfortable that
she felt as if it had been at least ten. O'Brien also received a letter
from Father McGrath, which I shall lay before the reader.

"MY DEAR SON,--Long life, and all the blessings of all the saints be
upon you now and for evermore! Amen. And may you live to be married,
and may I dance at your wedding, and may you never want children, and
may they grow up as handsome as their father and their mother (whoever
she may hereafte