Tales and Novels, vol 6 | Page 3

caricatured the
English pronunciation; and the extraordinary precision of her London
phraseology betrayed her not to be a Londoner, as the man who strove
to pass for an Athenian was detected by his Attic dialect. Not aware of
her real danger, Lady Clonbrony was, on the opposite side, in continual
apprehension every time she opened her lips, lest some treacherous a or
e, some strong r, some puzzling aspirate or non-aspirate, some
unguarded note, interrogative, or expostulatory, should betray her to be
an Irishwoman. Mrs. Dareville had, in her mimicry, perhaps, a little
exaggerated, as to the teebles and cheers, but still the general likeness
of the representation of Lady Clonbrony was strong enough to strike
and vex her son. He had now, for the first time, an opportunity of
judging of the estimation in which his mother and his family were held
by certain leaders of the ton, of whom, in her letters, she had spoken so
much, and into whose society, or rather into whose parties, she had
been admitted. He saw that the renegado cowardice with which she
denied, abjured, and reviled her own country, gained nothing but
ridicule and contempt. He loved his mother; and, whilst he
endeavoured to conceal her faults and foibles as much as possible from
his own heart, he could not endure those who dragged them to light and
ridicule. The next morning, the first thing that occurred to Lord
Colambre's remembrance, when he awoke, was the sound of the
contemptuous emphasis which had been laid on the words IRISH
ABSENTEES!--This led to recollections of his native country, to
comparisons of past and present scenes, to future plans of life. Young
and careless as he seemed, Lord Colambre was capable of serious
reflection. Of naturally quick and strong capacity, ardent affections,
impetuous temper, the early years of his childhood passed at his father's
castle in Ireland, where, from the lowest servant to the well-dressed

dependent of the family, every body had conspired to wait upon, to
fondle, to flatter, to worship, this darling of their lord. Yet he was not
spoiled--not rendered selfish; for in the midst of this flattery and
servility, some strokes of genuine generous affection had gone home to
his little heart: and though unqualified submission had increased the
natural impetuosity of his temper, and though visions of his future
grandeur had touched his infant thought, yet, fortunately, before he
acquired any fixed habits of insolence or tyranny, he was carried far
away from all that were bound or willing to submit to his commands,
far away from all signs of hereditary grandeur--plunged into one of our
great public schools--into a new world. Forced to struggle, mind and
body, with his equals, his rivals, the little lord became a spirited
school-boy, and in time, a man. Fortunately for him, science and
literature happened to be the fashion among a set of clever young men
with whom he was at Cambridge. His ambition for intellectual
superiority was raised, his views were enlarged, his tastes and his
manners formed. The sobriety of English good sense mixed most
advantageously with Irish vivacity: English prudence governed, but did
not extinguish, his Irish enthusiasm. But, in fact, English and Irish had
not been invidiously contrasted in his mind: he had been so long
resident in England, and so intimately connected with Englishmen, that
he was not obvious to any of the commonplace ridicule thrown upon
Hibernians; and he had lived with men who were too well informed and
liberal to misjudge or depreciate a sister country. He had found, from
experience, that, however reserved the English may be in manner, they
are warm at heart; that, however averse they may be from forming new
acquaintance, their esteem and confidence once gained, they make the
most solid friends. He had formed friendships in England; he was fully
sensible of the superior comforts, refinement, and information, of
English society; but his own country was endeared to him by early
association, and a sense of duty and patriotism attached him to
Ireland.--"And shall I too be an absentee?" was a question which
resulted from these reflections--a question which he was not yet
prepared to answer decidedly.
In the mean time, the first business of the morning was to execute a
commission for a Cambridge friend. Mr. Berryl had bought from Mr.

Mordicai, a famous London coachmaker, a curricle, warranted sound,
for which he had paid a sound price, upon express condition that Mr.
Mordicai should be answerable for all repairs of the curricle for six
months. In three, both the carriage and body were found to be good for
nothing--the curricle had been returned to Mordicai--nothing had since
been heard of it, or from him; and Lord Colambre had undertaken to
pay him and it a visit, and to