Another example: a very rich Irish officer settled at Bruree, near Limerick, and bought a pack of foxhounds, arranging the hunt on the most liberal scale. He had a hundred or a hundred and fifty hounds, thirty or forty horses, sixty or eighty keepers, grooms and men-servants, indoors and out. After a few disputes with his tenants, the Land League boycotted him; and the first time the hounds went out they were poisoned. He at once dismissed all his servants, closed his house, and established himself in Northamptonshire. It is calculated that the county now loses 20,000_l._ or 24,000_l._ per annum through his departure. He is another “absentee”--but through whose fault? It is the Land League’s misfortune to pursue two objects, and for the sake of one it often turns its back upon the other. The Land Leaguers are first filled with hatred against England; they wage desperate war against her by every means that they have at their disposal. We can understand a little of this feeling when we read the atrocities that the English have committed in this country even to a comparatively recent date. “Vengeance is a divine pleasure,” says a poet; but he omitted to add that, as a rule, vengeance is a very expensive pleasure. The Irish are wrong in wishing and in endeavouring to avenge themselves and to improve their position at the same time; they must choose between the two ideas. In driving the owner of Bruree away they avenged themselves; but they have changed the situation of this little corner of Ireland very much for the worse; and the same thing that happened at Bruree has taken place in a hundred other localities. Mr. Sanders left me at Mallow, which we reached about half-past one. He was obliged to go to a small village in the neighbourhood, where he had to carry out an eviction on the following morning. He had requisitioned a force of constabulary, of which one detachment came in our train. For a few minutes I walked alone on the platform, and then I noticed a man coming towards me, of middle height, thick-set, carefully shaved, his face quite sunburnt, under very short, quite white hair. He introduces himself as Mr. Townsend Trench, to whom some mutual friends living in Paris have given me letters of introduction, and he had been kind enough to come and meet me to take me to his usual residence, Lansdowne Lodge, at Kenmare, from which he had been absent some weeks, but he was now returning home on purpose to receive and welcome me.