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“Well, sir, there is redemption in Gath, and the Philistines are discomfited, the Puritans overthrown, the Parliament of the Barebones dissolved, the opponents of the fancy defeated in their designs, the impugners of manhood laughed into scorn. There have now been no beaks, no xx’s, like clouds and storms upon the pugilistic hemisphere; we have had a noble, manly, fair British fight—the flag of the P.R. is again triumphant, and the colours of both the combatants covered with glory. The conqueror has reaped new laurels, the conquered has renewed and refreshed his: Spring has been truly triumphant, but Langan is not disgraced—as the old Major says, ‘quite the contrary.’

“You have acted, and you have written nobly, sir, about the discomfited son of Erin: you have rendered unto Cæsar Cæsar’s goods. I am an Englishman, and I love, I reverence, the land of mawleys and roast beef; but I can respect our brethren of the Union, and speak well of the country of shillelahs and potatoes. The hero of the sable banner shall yet be a conqueror—‘quoit it down, Bardolph!’—and so, my jolly Daffs, let us have a stave for the Black Fogle.