sat down, amid a silence that seemed to him to be fraught with
eloquence, so impressive and significant was--to him--its full
meaning. Some speeches are cheered vulgarly. It was the outward sign
of coarse approval. Others are enjoyed and sympathised with
inwardly, and the outward tribute to which was silence--and that was
the tribute of that particular Guildhall gathering on that great
night.

It seemed to Wilberforce Kingsnorth, hardened after-dinner speaker
though he was, that never had a body of men such as he confronted
and who met his gaze by dropping their eyes modestly to their
glasses, been so genuinely thrilled by so original, so comprehensive
and so dramatic a conclusion to a powerful appeal.

Kingsnorth felt, as he sat down, that it was indeed a red-letter
night for him--and for England.

The Times, in reviewing the speeches the following morning,
significantly commented that:

"Mr. Kingsnorth had solved, in a moment of entreaty, to a hitherto
indifferent Providence, the entire Irish difficulty."

When Nathaniel Kingsnorth found himself the fortunate possessor of
this tract of land peopled by so lawless a race, he determined to
see for himself what the conditions really were, so for the first
time since they owned a portion of it, a Kingsnorth set foot on
Irish soil.

Accompanied by his two sisters he arrived quietly some few weeks