Joseph had frequently carried home books from the library of Cro' Martin, rare and curious volumes, which bore upon the ancient history of the country. And now there crossed him the horrible suspicion that the whole scheme of this attack might be laid to his charge, the information to substantiate which he had thus surreptitiously-obtained. It was clear enough, from what his mother had said, that such was not Miss Martin's present impression; but who could say what representations might be made to her, and what change effected in her sentiments? “And this,” cried he, in indignation--“and this is the great career I used to long for!--this the broad highway I once fancied was to lead me to honor and distinction! Or is it, after all, my own fault, for endeavoring to reconcile two-things which never can have any agreement,--an humble origin and high aspirings? Were I an Englishman, the difficulty would not be impassable; but here, in Ireland, the brand of a lowly fortune and a despised race is upon me. Can I--dare I resist it?” A long and arduous conflict was that in which he passed the night,--now inclining to abandon his profession forever, now to leave Ireland and join the English or some Colonial Bar; and at length, as day was breaking, and as though the fresh morning air which now blew upon him from his open window had given fresh energy to his nature, he determined he would persist in his career in his own country. “_My_ fate shall be an example or a warning!” cried he. “They who come after me shall know whether there be rewards within reach of honest toil and steady industry without the contamination of a mock patriotism! If I _do_ rise, it shall be from no aid derived from a party or a faction; and if I fail, I bring no discredit upon 'my order.'” There are men who can so discipline their minds that they have but to establish a law to their actions to make their whole lives “a system.” Such individuals the Germans not inaptly call “self-contained men,” and of these was Joe Nelligan one. A certain concentration of his faculties, and the fatigues of a whole night passed thus in thought, gave a careworn, exhausted look to his features as he entered the room where Repton sat awaiting him for breakfast. “I see what's the matter with you,” said the old lawyer, as he entered. “You have passed the night after a 'first brief.' This day ten years you'll speak five hours before the Lords 'in error,' and never lose a wink of sleep after it's over!” CHAPTER XVI. MR. REPTON LOOKS IN