Human creatures, especially young human creatures, are apt to swing suddenly from one extreme to the other, and utterly to despise that which they had extravagantly admired. From this propensity Ormond was in the present instance guarded by affection and gratitude. Through all the folly of his kingship, he saw that Cornelius O’Shane was not a person to be despised. He was indeed a man of great natural powers, both of body and mind--of inventive genius, energy, and perseverance, which might have attained the greatest objects; though from insufficient knowledge, and self-sufficient perversity, they had wasted themselves on absurd or trivial purposes. There was a strong contrast between the characters of Sir Ulick and his cousin Cornelius O’Shane. They disliked and despised each other: differing as far in natural disposition as the subtle and the bold, their whole course through life, and the habits contracted during their progress, had widened the original difference. The one living in the world, and mixing continually with men of all ranks and character, had, by bending easily, and being all things to all men, won his courtier-way onwards and upwards to the possession of a seat in parliament, and the prospect of a peerage. The other, inhabiting a remote island, secluded from all men but those over whom he _reigned_, caring for no earthly consideration, and for no human opinion but his own, had _for_ himself and _by_ himself, hewed out his way to his own objects, and then rested, satisfied-- “Lord of himself, and all his (_little_) world his own.” CHAPTER VI. One morning, when Harry Ormond was out shooting, and King Corny, who had recovered tolerably from the gout, was reinstated in his arm-chair in the parlour, listening to Father Jos reading “The Dublin Evening Post,” a gossoon, one of the runners of the castle, opened the door, and putting in his curly red head and bare feet, announced, _in all haste_, that _he “just seen_ Sir Ulick O’Shane in the boat, crossing the lake for the Black Islands.” “Well, breathless blockhead! and what of that?” said King Corny--“did you never see a man in a boat before?” “I did, plase your honour.” “Then what is there extraordinary?” “Nothing at all, plase your honour, only--thought your honour might like to know.” “Then you thought wrong, for I neither like it, nor mislike it. I don’t care a rush about the matter--so take yourself down stairs.” “‘Tis a long time,” said the priest, as the gossoon closed the door after him, “‘tis a longer time than he ought, since Sir Ulick O’Shane paid his respects here, even in the shape of a morning visit.” “Morning visit!” repeated Mrs. Betty Dunshaughlin, the housekeeper, who entered the room, for she was a privileged person, and had _les grandes et les petites entrées in this palace_”--Morning visit!--are you sure, Father Jos--are you clear he isn’t come intending to stay dinner?” “What, in the devil’s name, Betty, does it signify?” said the king.