Scatterbrain and O'Grady consulted together on the hustings what was to be done, while Dick the Devil was throwing jokes to the crowd, and inflaming their mischievous merriment, and Growling looking on with an expression of internal delight at the fun, uproar, and vexation around him. It was just a dish to his taste and he devoured it with silent satisfaction.
"What the deuce keeps that sneaking dandy?" cried O'Grady to Scatterbrain. "He should have returned long ago." Oh! could he have only known at that moment, that his sweet son-in-law elect was voting against them, what would have been the consequence?
Another exhibition, insulting to O'Grady, now appeared in the crowd—a chimney-pot and weathercock, after the fashion of his mother's, was stuck on a pole, and underneath was suspended an old coat, turned inside out; this double indication of his change, so peculiarly insulting, was elevated before the hustings, amidst the jeers and laughter of the people. O'Grady was nearly frantic—he rushed to the front of the platform, he shook his fist at the mockery, poured every abusive epithet on its perpetrators, and swore he would head the police himself and clear the crowd. In reply, the crowd hooted, the rat-trap and weathercock were danced together after the fashion of Punch and Judy, to the music of the trumpet; and another pole made its appearance, with a piece of bacon on it, and a placard bearing the inscription of "Treasury bacon," all which Tom Durfy had run off to procure at a huckster's shop the moment he heard the waggish answer, which he thus turned to account.
"The military must be called out!" said O'Grady; and with these words he left the platform to seek the sheriff.
Edward O'Connor, the moment he heard O'Grady's threat, quitted the hustings also, in company with old Growling. "What a savage and dangerous temper that man has!" said Edward; "calling for the military when the people have committed no outrage to require such interference."
"They have poked up the bear with their poles, sir, and it is likely he'll give them a hug before he's done with them," answered the doctor.
"But what need of military?" indignantly exclaimed Edward. "The people are only going on with the noise and disturbance common to any election, and the chances are, that savage man may influence the sheriff to provoke the people, by the presence of soldiers, to some act which would not have taken place but for their interference; and thus they themselves originate the offence which they are forearmed with power to chastise. In England such extreme measures are never resorted to until necessity compels them. How I have envied Englishmen, when, on the occasion of assizes, every soldier is marched from the town while the judge is sitting; in Ireland the place of trial bristles with bayonets! How much more must a people respect and love the laws, whose own purity and justice are their best safeguard—whose inherent majesty is sufficient for their own protection! The sword of justice should never need the assistance of the swords of dragoons; and in the election of their representatives, as well as at judicial sittings, a people should be free from military despotism."
"But, as an historian, my dear young friend," said the doctor, "I need not remind you, that dragoons have been considered 'good lookers-on' in Ireland since the days of Strafford."
"Ay!" said Edward; "and scandalous it is, that the abuses of the seventeenth century should be perpetuated in the nineteenth.[24] ] While those who govern show, by the means they adopt for supporting their authority, that their rule requires undue force to uphold it, they tacitly teach resistance to the people, and their practices imply that the resistance is righteous."
"My dear Master Ned," said the doctor, "you're a patriot, and I'm sorry for you; you inherit the free opinions of your namesake 'of the hill,' of blessed memory; with such sentiments you may make a very good Irish barrister, but you'll never be an Irish judge—and as for a silk gown, 'faith you may leave the wearing of that to your wife, for stuff is all that will ever adorn your shoulders."