There are clubs in London, notably the Army and Navy, where one is treated in the same manner. That club has been growing more and more liberal of late years. At one period a short while ago, a stranger could go only to one room and one dining-room. Now in company with a member the whole club is open to him. There are other London clubs where he may not even pass the portals, but this is the twentieth century, an age of reform, and all that will change in time. What homelike and yet what heartless things clubs are! A man may make his home in one for years, may have his own particular corner and be the very life and soul of the house; many would declare that the place could not get on without his jests and merry laugh, and that they would miss him for ever. How many would do so? Coming in some day they would note the flag at half mast and his name on a black bordered card near the door. Most who passed would not be able to recall his features whilst remembering that they had drank with him often, and the majority would forget him promptly. For those who did remember, it would be sad to think that
"Perin has gone; and we who loved him best
Can't think of him as
'entered into rest.'
But he has gone; has left the morning street,
The clubs no longer echo to his feet;
Nor shall we see him lift his yellow wine
To pledge the random host—the purple vine.
At doors of other men his horses wait,
His whining dogs scent false their master's fate;
His chafing yacht at harbour mooring lies;
'Owner ashore' her idle pennant flies.
Perin has gone—
Forsook the jovial ways
Of Winter nights—his well-loved plays,
The dreams and schemes and deeds of busy brain,
And pensive habitations built in Spain.
Gone, with his ruddy hopes! And we who knew him best
Can't think of him as 'entered into rest.'
So when the talk dies out or lights burn dim
We often ponder what is keeping him—
What destiny that all-subduing will,
That golden wit, that love of life, fulfil?
For we who silent smoke, who loved him best,
Can't fancy Perin 'entered into rest.'"
The touring is almost over, and I fancy for ever, in Ireland. Our last day's journey was one of the most pleasant and interesting of the lot. Having gone to Bray Head to escape the heat of the city, we rolled off at nine a.m. and passing through town in a rush fled southwards towards the military camp at Curragh. The day was brilliant and the motor fairly flew over the highway which to-day we have all to ourselves.
Passing again the unfinished palace of the Earl of Stratford we paused to inspect it and to learn its history.
"Jigginstown" was built by Sir Thomas Wentworth, created Earl of Stratford by Charles I., who made him Deputy of Ireland and regarded him at the time as his chief minister and counsellor. In his early years he was certainly a character of doubtful virtue, as before this appointment he was as strongly counter to the King as he was for him after he had received it. The King was subject to a violent outcry for using a Papist to murder his subjects. Wentworth laboured under the severe hatred of the English, Scotch, and Irish. He secured from the Irish Parliament large sums which he used to engage an army against Scotland. His rule here lasted eight years, and while active and prudent he was most unpopular. When his fall occurred the Irish Parliament used every expedient to aggravate the charge against him. Envy and jealousy both here and in England were the prime causes of his ruin.
Knowing the power and deadly hatred of his enemies he implored the King to excuse him from attending Parliament, but Charles promised that not a hair of his head should be injured; but his enemies arose in such might, that no voice was raised in his defence and he was accused of high treason. The whole affair was a gigantic conspiracy of the leaders of the Parliament against one man, of whom they could prove no wrong save that he served the King, and who they were well aware possessed knowledge of their own treason. "Unprotected by power, without counsel, discountenanced by authority, what hope had he? yet such was the capacity, genius, and presence of mind displayed by this magnanimous statesman that while argument, reason, and law held any place he obtained the victory and he perished by the open violence of his enemies."