“Why, you don't mane for to say,” replied Redhead, “that he'd have the spunk in him to run away with Bodagh Buie's daughter? Be the contents o' the book, if I thought he'd thry it, I stick to him like a Throjan; the dirty Bodagh, that, as Larry Lawdher said tonight, never backed or supported us, or gev a single rap to help us, if a penny 'ud save us from the gallis. To hell's delights wid him an' all belongin' to him, I say too; an' I'll tell you What it is, boys, if Flanagan has the manliness to take away his daughter, I'll be the first to sledge the door to pieces.” “_Dhar a spiridh_, an' so will I,” said the young beetle-browed tiger beside him; “thim that can an' won't help on the cause, desarves no mercy from it.” Thus spoke from the lips of ignorance and brutality that _esprit de corps_ of blood, which never scruples to sacrifice all minor resentments to any opportunity of extending the cause, as it is termed, of that ideal monster, in the promotion of which the worst principles of our nature, still most active, are sure to experience the greatest glut of low and gross gratification. Oh, if reason, virtue, and true religion, were only as earnest and vigorous in extending their own cause, as ignorance, persecution, and bigotry, how soon would society present a different aspect! But, unfortunately, they cannot stoop to call in the aid of tyranny, and cruelty, and bloodshed, nor of the thousand other atrocious allies of falsehood and dishonesty, of which ignorance, craft, and cruelty, never fail to avail themselves, and without which they could not proceed successfully. M'Cormick, having heard Rousin Redhead and his son utter such sentiments, did not feel at all justified in admitting them to any confidence with himself or Duffy. He accordingly replied with more of adroitness than of candor to the savage sentiments they expressed. “Faith, you're right, Rouser; he'd never have spunk, sure enough, to carry off the Bodagh's daughter. But, in the mane time, who was spakin' about her? Begor, if I thought he had the heart I'd--but he hasn't.” “I know he hasn't,” said the Rouser. “He's nothing but a white-livered dog,” said Duffy. “I thought, to tell you the truth,” said M'Cormick, “that you might give a guess as to the girl, but for the Bodagh's daughter, he has not the mettle for that.” “If he had,” replied the Rouser, “he might count upon Corney an' myself as right-hand men. We all have a crow to pluck wid the dirty Bodagh, an', be me zounds, it'll puzzle him to find a bag to hould the feathers.” “One 'ud think he got enough,” observed M'Cormick, “in the loss of his haggard.” “But that didn't come from uz,” said the Rouser; “we have our share to give him yet, an' never fear hell get it. We'll taich him to abuse us, an' set us at defiance, as he's constantly doin'.”