AN ULSTERMAN FOR IRELAND
their charges, his sheriffs their good and lawful men that his preachers,[1] hangmen and detectives were all putting themselves in readiness, in their several departments, to crush the rebel who dared to say and write down (contrary to nil the statutes, and all the precedents, and all the reported cases) that a poor man's life is as precious as a nobleman's.
So, being satisfied that I had the axe laid to the root of the right tree, I girded up my loins, and delivered blow on blow, not with any great strength or woodman-craft, but with right good will. Into British civilisation and commerce, into Britain's Crown and Law, into landlord Thuggee, and all enlightened theories of consolidated farming, I made horrid gashes, till, as I thought, the leafy top trembled, and the trunk groaned, arid it became evident that if so vehement an attack continued, the tree would fall, and obscene birds no longer have shelter beneath its branches. Then the "law" discharged its first bolt, and I was arrested, and held to bail to take two trials, one after the other, for what they call "sedition" that is, for speaking the Truth aforesaid.
But, to the amazement of all Parliament-men and Government people, I still went on exactly as before. What I had to say was GOD'S truth, and I would say it: what I had undertaken to do was a sacred work, and I would do it. Nay, I began to call you, the Protestant democracy of the North, to my aid. I called aloud on you to
- ↑ The pulpits of most parish churches of Dublin have rung for some weeks back with pious abuse of Jacobins, mean in me.—J.M.
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