state. I have no immediate inducement to go to England; and, if you have none to come to Ireland, let us at least correspond. I am perfectly assured of your good wishes, and I flatter myself you are equally so of mine.
I am, dear Malone,
Yours faithfully and affectionately,
Henry Flood.
You write to me as if I was a Privy Councillor.[1]
Two notes succeed this, one in June, in which the classics take their turn; another in November, in which hints are dropped of the little familiarity in Ireland with the less prominent shades of English politics. Nor was England better informed of the tendencies of her weaker sister. So marked was their little familiarity with each other, or so imprudent the policy pursued in the face of passing events, that a stranger might have doubted whether both were members of the same kingdom. Such mistakes and misapprehensions are unavoidable with two Parliaments sitting in two divisions of one empire:—“A thousand thanks for your literary selections. I am still better pleased that we are to meet this summer in Ireland. That implies of necessity a visit to Farmley, which will open all its doors to you. For fear, however, of being seduced to Dublin or Westmeath, I counsel the road of South Wales, Milford, and Waterford to you. I mentioned in my letter another translation of Euripides, lately advertised, of which, however, I have never heard any character, and I suppose by your silence it deserves none. England exhibits at present a strange scene to one at
- ↑ It will be remembered he had been struck off the list of both countries.
