you in fiendish triumph as you passed, while his head (when the wind blew) has been known to turn and look down the street, as if in search of a victim to mark him for his own. In one hand he brandished a gleaming scimitar, and in the other he held forth a golden goblet, of which, while apparently inviting you to partake, he evidently defied you to venture upon the dangerous experiment. The juvenile mind (rich in Arabian lore), while contemplating it in awe and wonder, used to associate it with some mighty genius or enchanter, who besought of you to swallow a pernicious draught, more potent in its effects than all the physics, philters, or elixirs that were ever compounded from the days of Galen down to those of our own Holloway. The intelligent observer, however, who was neither fanciful nor nervous, had no difficulty in discovering the true character of this remarkable personage; for the announcement on the board beneath explained that the premises over which he presided was "the Original Twankay and Bohea Emporium," when, by an easy process of reasoning, he arrived at the fact that, despite the incongruity of figure, feature, and costume, the object of his curiosity was a native of the Celestial Empire -a mandarin of the first magnitude at least; and that the vessel in his hand was a harmless cup of tea, with which he was about to refresh himself, with the implied admonition to the beholders to follow his example. The establishment, which in fact was known as "the Sign of the Mandarin," had attained a wide celebrity, and was so well appreciated by the public, that people

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flocked to it from all parts of the city, certain of obtaining there the best value for their money, in tea that was strong enough to burst the vessel it was brewed in, and coffee such as the houris of Paradise may be supposed to regale the faithful with. But, famous and remarkable as was the "Original Twankay and Bohea Emporium," David Elliott, the proprietor, or, as he was more generally known, Alderman Elliott, was far more so; for, apart from his civic honours, which alone rendered him famous, he was celebrated throughout the city for being what Daniel O'Connell used to designate a rampant Orangeman." Not one of your tame, degenerate, smooth-faced" brethren" known to Dublin at the present day, who has none of the old fire within him at all, who keeps his principles quietly to himself, fearing to own them in public, and who, instead of displaying his colours like a true blue of the olden time, furtively sneaks away at night to join his brethren at their place of meeting, hiding his orange scarf in his pocket, and never producing it, nor venturing to crow out a single "No surrender," or "Croppy, lie down," until he finds himself secure within the shelter of "the Lodge." No; David Elliott was no such milk-and-water character as this; he was a genuine Orangeman of the old Tory school; a thorough-going no-surrender man; ever ready, regardless of time or place, to show his colours and declare his principles. Most characters like him, at the period, would not only have been unpopular with the mass of the people, but would have been hated intensely, for party feeling at the time raged fiercely, and sectarian

animosity divided the people into hostile sections, hating each other with an intensity happily unknown to the present generation, and never, we trust, to be again revived. But, although regarded with dislike by the more ultra of the Roman Catholic party, David Elliott was greatly esteemed by Catholics in general, who bore with his principles, obnoxious as they were, for sake of the man; for the fact was that Elliott, although a Protestant and an Orangeman, was, unlike most of his associates, by no means a bigot. In moments of enthusiasm, when heated with party feeling, and carried away by the Orange mania, he appeared intolerant and bigoted; but once the fever had subsided, he stood forth what he really was, a reasonable, just, and amiable man, as ready to associate with or befriend a Catholic as one of his own communion thus it was that, on public occasions, when joining conspicuously in party demonstrations, his offensive displays would be borne by the crowd, not only with patience, but good humour, provoking such a remark as "Go on, Alderman; have it your own way; nothing from you will anger us;" while the same conduct in another would meet with execration or personal violence.

Still, however, he was an enthusiastic Orangeman, whose parallel could only be found in our day amongst the hot-headed brethren of Ulster, and he seemed a bigot of a virulent stamp; and, although he was strongly tinctured with true liberality, should any one have attributed liberal principles to him, he would have resented the imputation as an unpardonable insult. He

was not only true blue himself, but all belonging to him were so too. It was his boast that, within the memory of man, an encroachment of Popish blood into his family (for so he used to express himself) had not taken place. "My mother," he would say, "was a Leslie, and my grandmother an Armstrong"-these names, which were borne at the time by two prominent leaders of the Orangemen of Ulster, were supposed to typify the very intensity of Orangeism-" my great grandfather was one of the first who rallied round King William's banner when he landed in this country; my father and I fought side by side in '98, and here am I now ready to die whenever my king and country require. Popish blood, Sir, would not mingle with mine-no, Sir, I defy it." And the worthy alderman would strike the table with his fist, and look fiercely around, as if expecting and defying contradiction. His enthusiasm on this point partook largely of the ludicrous. In the height of his fervour he had caused his only child, when an infant, to be christened within sight of the River Boyne, and with water, too, from that historic river, the baby being at the same time decorated with all the imposing insignia of the order. The name conferred upon the embryo Orangeman was an imposing one, "William Nassau Gustavus Adolphus." What grandeur and proud associations were wound up in these euphonious names!— whole pages of history, rich in exultant triumphs, were unfolded at the mention of them. The father delighted to roll them from his tongue in presence of his friends; and his domestics were enjoined, under heavy pains and

penalties, never, in referring to the child, to omit one of them. On his arriving at the age of seven years, he had him duly admitted into the Orange fraternity, and solemnly initiated into all the mysteries of the association, on which occasion it is a recorded fact, that, in a tiny glass of whiskey toddy, Master William Nassau Gustavus Adolphus drank "the glorious, pious, and immortal memory," and afterwards sang, with a tact that augured wondrous performances from him in future. years, that inspiriting ditty, "the Boyne Water." These traits of inherent genius sank deep in the father's heart, who watched with doting fondness the dawning genius of the son, and with hopefulness and pride awaited the time when his tender bud of promise should expand into a full-grown orange lily. Having been left a widower at an early period of his married life, his whole heart and affections became centred in his little motherless babe. Oh! with what pride and rapture did he watch for each new development of that genius his parent's heart assured him his infant son possessed; and how eagerly did he look forward to the day when he should become a distinguished Orangeman, and, like himself, a regular attendant at "the Lodge," where he should occasionally take the chair, and, in speeches of thrilling eloquence, propose and pass resolutions breathing loyalty to the throne, and attachment to the Protestant religion, and prove himself every inch an Orangeman! How far these anticipations were realized we shall shortly have an opportunity of judging.

The Orange Lodge to which Alderman Elliott be