“'What health, man? out with it; are we to sit here all night for it?—'
“'He gets half his bread from a d——d Papish, merely because, he's his tenant—instead of getting the whole of it from me, that's better than a tenant, a brother Orangeman—
“'King James he pitched his tents between
The lines for to retire;
But King William threw his bomb balls in,
And set them all on fire.'—
“In fact the confusion of Babel was nothing to it now, every voice was loud, and what between singing, swearing, shouting, arguing, drinking toasts, and howling, of various descriptions, it would not be easy to to find anything in any other country that could be compared to it.
“Phil himself was by this time nearly as drunk as any of them, but in consequence of several hints from those who preserved their sobriety, and several of them did, he now got to his legs, and called silence.
“'Silence, sil-sil-silence, I say, d—n my honor if I'll bear this. Do you think (hiccup) we can separate without drinking the Castle Cu-Cumber toast. Fill, gentle-(hic-cup)-men, here's Lord Cumber and the Castle-Castle Cu-Cumber property, with the health of Sol-Sol-Solo-Solomon M'Slime, Esq.—
“'For God will be our king this day,
And I'll be the general over—eh—over—no, no, under.'—
“'Under, I believe (hiccup)—'
“'Silence, there, I say.'
“'My friends—my dear friends,' said Solomon—'my brothers—Christian brethren, I should say, for you are Christian brethren—Lord Cumber's health is a good thing, and his property is a good thing; and I—I return you thanks for it, as I am bound to do, as a Christian. Am I Christian? Well—' (here he smiled, and laying his hand upon his heart, added,) 'well I know what I feel here, that is all. My dear friends, I said that Lord Cumber's health and property were good things, but I know a thing that's better, more valuable, richer—and what is that? It is here, in this poor frail—but not frail so long as that thing is here—that thing, what is it? Oh, if you had prayed for it, wrestled for it, fought for it, as I did, you would know what it is, and all the delightful and elevating consolations it brings along with it. Surely some one drank Lord Cumber's health! That was well; he sitteth in a high place, and deserveth honor. Let us drink his health, my friends—let us drink it, yea, abundantly, even unto rejoicing. But what is this thing? Why, it is the sense of inward support, a mild, sweet light, that diffuses pleasant thoughts through you, that multiplies every good gift about you, that makes one cup of pleasant liquor seem two. It is not to many that these things are vouchsafed; not, I believe, to any here, always with humility and fear be it spoken, excepting Bob Spaight and myself—