“'Then,' said he, 'in the first place allow me to ask what are your politics? As an Englishman, which I perceive you are by your accent—I take it for granted that you are a Protestant.'
“'I am a Protestant, certainly,' I replied, 'and a Church of England one.'
“'Ay, but that's not enough,' said Phil, 'that won't do, my good sir; d—n my honor if it would be worth a fig in this country.'
“'I am very ignorant of Irish politics, I admit,' said I, 'but, I trust, I am in good hands for the receipt of sound information on the subject.'
“'No, no,' continued Phil, 'that's nothing—to be a mere Church of England man, or a Church of Ireland man either, would never do here, I tell you. Upon my honor, but that's doctrine.'
“'Well, but what would do,' I inquired; for I certainly felt a good deal of curiosity to know what he was coming to.
“'The great principle here,' said the son, 'is to hate and keep down the Papists, and you can't do that properly unless you're an Orangeman. Hate and keep down the Papists, that's the true religion, I pledge you my honor and reputation it is.'
“'You put the principle too strong, and rather naked, Phil,' observed the father; 'but the truth is, sir,' he added, turning to me, 'that you may perceive that fine spirit of Protestant enthusiasm in the young man, which is just now so much wanted in, and so beneficial to the country and the government. We must, sir, make allowance for this in the high-spirited and young, and ardent; but, still, after deducting a little for zeal and enthusiasm, he has expressed nothing but truth—with the exception, indeed, that we are not bound to hate them, Phil; on the contrary, we are bound to love our enemies.'
“'Beggingyour pardon, father, I say we are bound to hate them.'
“'Why, so, sir, may I ask,' said I.