“Dear Sir,
“My attorney did not do you justice; you will permit me to be my own attorney on this occasion.
“Your friend and humble servant,
“Ormonde and Ossory.”
From that time to the day of his lordship’s death, I experienced from him, on every occasion within his reach, the utmost extent of kindness, civility, and friendship. His successor, with whom I had been so long and so very intimately acquainted, was whirled at an early age into the vortex of fashionable life and dissipation. Having lost his best guide and truest friend, his cousin Bryan Cavanagh, many of his naturally fine qualities were absorbed in the licentious influence of a fashionable female connexion; and thus became lost to himself and to many of those friends who had most truly valued him.
I have mentioned Walter, Marquess of Ormonde, the more particularly, because, extraordinary as it may appear, it certainly was to that fatal connexion of his (where I am sure he had not been the seducer) that I owe several of the most painful and injurious events of my life. Of the existence of this connexion I had irrefragable proof; and of its having operated as a bar to the chief objects of his life and ambition, and of my own also, I have equal reason to feel convinced.
His lordship married his own god-daughter, a most amiable young lady; but too late: and never have I remarked, through the course of a long, observing life, any progress more complete from the natural levities of youth to confirmed habits of dissipation, from the first order of early talent to the humblest state of premature imbecility, than that of the late Marquess of Ormonde, who had, at one period of our intimacy, as engaging a person, as many noble, manly qualities, and to the full as much intellectual promise, as any young man of his country.
DR. ACHMET BORUMBORAD.
Singular anecdotes of Dr. Achmet Borumborad—He proposes to erect baths in Dublin, in the Turkish fashion—Obtains grants from Parliament for that purpose—The baths well executed—The Doctor’s banquet—Ludicrous anecdote of nineteen noblemen and members of Parliament falling into his grand salt-water bath—The accident nearly causes the ruin of the Doctor and his establishment—He falls in love with Miss Hartigan, and marries her—Sudden metamorphosis of the Turk into Mr. Patrick Joyce.
Until England dragged the sister kingdom with herself into the ruinous expenses of the American war, Ireland owed no public debt.—There were no taxes, save local ones: the Parliament, being composed of resident gentlemen, interested in the prosperity and welfare of their country, was profuse in promoting all useful schemes; and no projector, who could show any reasonable grounds for seeking assistance, had difficulty in finding a patron. On these points, indeed, the gentlemen who possessed influence, were often unguarded, and sometimes extravagant;—but the people lost nothing, since all was expended amongst themselves.