“There is no other name for it,” cried Heffernan, in ecstasy. “I have known Ireland for something more than half a century now,” said the Knight, with a touch of melancholy in his voice, “and yet never before saw so much of social disorder as at present, and perhaps we are only at the beginning of it. The scenes we have witnessed in France have been more bloody and more cruel, but they will leave less permanent results behind them than our own revolution; for such, after all, it is. The property of the country is changing hands, the old aristocracy are dying out, if not dead; their new successors have neither any hold on the affection of the people, nor a bond of union with each other. See what will come of it; the old game of feudalism will be tried by these men of yesterday, and the peasantry, whose reverence for birth is a religion, will turn on them, and the time is not very distant, perhaps, when the men who would not harm the landlord's dog will have little reverence for the landlord's self.” “You have drawn a sad picture,” said Heffernan, either feeling or affecting to feel the truthfulness of the Knight's delineation. “Our share in the ruin,” said the Knight, rising, and pacing the room with rapid strides,--“our share is not undeserved. We had a distinct and defined duty to perform, and we neglected it; instead of extending civilization, we were the messengers of barbarism among the people.” “Your own estates, I have heard, are a refutation of your theory,” interposed Heffernan, insinuatingly. “My estates--” repeated the Knight; and then, stopping suddenly, with a changed voice, he said, “Heffernan, we have got into a long and very unprofitable theme; let us try back, if we can, and see whence we started: we were talking of the Union.” “Just so,” said Heffernan, not sorry to resume the subject which induced his visit. “I have determined not to vote on the measure,” said the Knight, solemnly; “my reasons for the course I adopt I hope to be able to justify when the proper time arrives; meanwhile, it will prevent unnecessary speculation, and equally unnecessary solicitation, if I tell you frankly what I mean to do. Such is my present resolve.” The word “solicitation” fell from the Knight's lips with such a peculiar expression that Heffernan at once saw his own game was detected, and, like a clever tactician, resolved to make the best of his forced position. “You have been frank with me, Knight; I'll not be less candid with _you_, I came here to convey to you a distinct offer from the Government,--not of any personal favor or advantage, _that_, they well knew, you would reject,--but, in the event of your support, to take any suggestion you might make on the new Bill into their serious and favorable consideration; to advise with you how, in short, the measure might be made to meet your views, and, so to say, admit you into conclave with the Cabinet.”