e preached as
a doctrine fit for the people,--then you cannot be surprised if the
people do as they are taught and hold their tongues afterwards."

This Mr. Morris had been the first cousin of our poor old friend
Black Tom Daly.

"Good God!" he exclaimed, as soon as he read the news, sitting in his
parlour at Daly's Bridge; "there is Bob Morris gone now."

"Bob Morris, of Minas Cottage!" exclaimed Peter Bodkin, who had
ridden over to give Tom Daly some comfort in his solitude, if it
might be possible.

"By George! yes; Bob Morris! Did you know him?"

"I don't think he ever came out hunting."

"Hunting, indeed! How should he, when he hadn't a horse that he could
ride upon? And Bob knew nothing of sport. The better for him, seeing
the way that things are going now. No, he never was out hunting, poor
fellow. But for downright innocence and kindness and gentleness of
heart, there is no one left like him. And now they have murdered him!
What is to be the end of it? There is Persse telling me to hold on by
the hounds, when I couldn't keep a hound in the kennels at Ahaseragh
if it were ever so."

"Times will mend," said Peter.

"And Raheney Gorse fired so as to drive every fox out of the country!
Persse is wrong, and I am wrong to stay at his bidding. The very
nature of mankind has altered in the old country. There are not the
same hearts within their bosoms. To burn a gorse over a fox's head!
There is a damnable cruelty in it of which men were not guilty,--by
G----! they were not capable,--a year or two ago. These ruffians
from America have come and told them that they shall pay no rent,
and their minds have been so filled with the picture that its
magnificence has overcome them. They used to tell us that money is
the root of all evil; it proves to be true now. The idea that they
should pay no rent has been too much for them; and they have become
fiends under the feelings which have been roused. Only last year they
were mourning over a poor fox like a Christian,--a poor fox that had
been caught in a trap,--and now they would not leave a fox in the
country, because the gentlemen, they think, are fond of them. The
gentlemen are their enemies, and therefore they will spite them. They
will drive every gentleman out of the country, and where will they be
then?" Here Tom Daly sat quiet for a while, looking silent through
the open window, while Peter sat by him feeling the occasion to be
too solemn for speech. After a whi