At length, a very old lady was heard to mumble, in indistinct tones, 'Exeter Hall.' A sudden light broke in upon the meeting.

It was unanimously resolved, that a deputation of old ladies should wait upon a celebrated orator, imploring his assistance, and the favour of a speech; and the deputation should also wait on two or three other imbecile old women, not resident in the parish, and entreat their attendance.

The application was successful, the meeting was held; the orator (an Irishman) came.

He talked of green isles--other shores--vast Atlantic--bosom of the deep--Christian charity--blood and extermination--mercy in hearts--arms in hands--altars and homes--household gods.

He wiped his eyes, he blew his nose, and he quoted Latin.