“I have been nominated by no rabble, Mr. De Ruthven.”
“You are the nominee of the priests.”
“I am, sir; but have a care how you speak of a Catholic clergyman in this house. You are not now at Ruthventown.” I was hot with anger.
“Do you want to break up the harmony that has existed for centuries in the county, Mr. Ormonde?”
“I want to see a liberal represent the county, and I am willing to give way to a better man.”
“Liberal! What liberality do you require? Do not the liberals have their share in everything?”
I had him now.
“How many liberals are there on the grand panel, Mr. De Ruthven?”
“Oh! I grant you that there has been mismanagement,” he hastily replied, “but we’ll see to that.”
“What liberality is it that leaves the roads approaching every Catholic church in a condition that would shame a backwoods clearing, while those near the meanest Protestant place of worship are cared for like the avenues in your own domain?”