Four men in the garb of diggers, wearing sou'-wester hats, and having crepe over their faces, entered the Bank of Victoria, and succeeded in carrying off property in notes and gold, to the amount of about 15,000 pounds.

Who would have told me then, that soon I should be messmate to those unknown audacious robbers, in the same gaol!!

Let's go to the public meeting in the next chapter.

Chapter XIX.

Una Scintilla, Sparasi La Bomba, Spalanca A Mult.i.tudini La Tomba.

The following story was going the rounds of the Eureka. There was a licence-hunt; the servant of the Rev. P. Smyth, the priest of the Catholic church, Bakery-hill, went to a neighbouring tent to visit a sick man.

While inside, a trooper comes galloping up at the tent-door, and shouts out, "Come out here, you d----d wretches! there's a good many like you on the diggings." The man came outside, and was asked if "he's got a licence?"

The servant, who is a native of Armenia, answers, in imperfect English, that he is a servant to the priest. The trooper says, "d.a.m.n you and the priest," and forthwith dismounts for the purpose of dragging Johannes M'Gregorius, the servant, along with him. The servant remonstrates by saying he is a disabled man, unable to walk over the diggings.

This infuriates the trooper, he strikes and knocks down the poor disabled foreigner, drags him about, tears his shirt--in short, inflicting such injuries on the poor fellow, that all the diggers present cried out "shame! shame!"

Commissioner Johnson rides up, and says to the crowd about him, that he should not be interrupted in the execution of his 'dooty.' The priest hears of his servant's predicament, comes to the spot, hands a five-pound note to Johnson as bail for his servant's appearance the next day at the police-office.

The following morning, Johannes M`Gregorius is charged with being on the gold-fields without a licence. The poor foreigner tries to make a defence, but was fined five pounds. Commissioner Johnson now comes in and says, M`Gregorius is not charged with being without a licence, but with a.s.saulting the trooper Lord--ridiculous! This alters the case. The trooper is called, and says the old story about the execution of 'dooty,' that is, licence-hunting.

A respectable witness takes his oath that he saw the trooper strike the foreigner with his clenched fist, and knock him down.

The end of the story is in the Ballaarat tune, then in vogue: "Fined 5 pounds; take him away."

Chapter XX.

Public Meeting Held at the Catholic Chapel, Bakery-hill, Wednesday, October 25th.

After a good deal of pretty intelligible talk about the 'helpless Armenian,'

the trooper Lord, and our respected priest; Thomas Kennedy, pouncing on the thing of the day proposed:--

"That it is the opinion of this meeting that the conduct of Mr. Commissioner Johnson towards the Rev. Mr. Smyth has been calculated to awaken the highest feeling of indignation on the part of his devoted flock: and to call upon the government to inst.i.tute an inquiry into his (gold-lace) character, and to desire to have him at once removed from Ballaarat."

Carried unanimously.

The priest was requested to address the meeting.

Father Patricius Smyth, a native of Mayo, looks some thirty-five years old, and belongs to the unadulterated Irish caste--half-curled hair, not abundant, anxious semicircular forehead, keen and fiery eyes, altogether a lively interesting head. He is a Latin and Celtic scholar; and that excuses him for his moderate proficiency in modern languages. He was educated at Maynooth, the eye-sore of Sabbatarians, and therefore believes it incontestable that the authority conferred on him by the Bishop must needs be derived from G.o.d; because the Bishop had been consecrated by the Pope, who--inasmuch as a second branch of the Prince of the Apostles never was heard of at the time of St. Augustin--is the successor of St. Peter, the corner stone on which OUR LORD did build the Christian church, and our Lord's warrant is written in St. John, chapter xiv, 24: 'Sermo quem auditis non est meus, sed ejus qui misit me, nempe Patris.' And so Father Smyth feels himself ent.i.tled to adopt what was said of the Divine Master, 'Docebat enim eos ut habens auctoritatem, non autem ut scribae.' St. Matthew, chap. vii, 29.

Hence his preaching, though not remarkable for much eloquence, does not lull to sleep. There is no cant, and strange as it may appear, there is little argument in his short-framed sentences, because they are the decided opinion of his mind and the warm expression of his heart, anxious for the salvation of his flock, as he believes he will be called to account if any be lost. He, out of civility, may not object to hear what Paley or Butler has to say, but he scorns any conversation with Voltaire, and would see the fellow burnt, as in the times of old. His character was never impeached, because his conduct is an example to all of the strength of his faith. Either at the altar or at the table he forgets not that he belongs to the priesthood of Ireland, the 'proved gold' of the Catholic church. His song is, 'Erin, my country,' and 'I love thy green bowers,'

is the end of his story, which is a hint to me that this is not the place to say more for the peace of John Bull. Hence Ireland produced a Daniel O'Connell, but has not yet got the repeal.

Father Smyth, in addressing the meeting, spoke with coolness and forbearance, yet commendatory of the const.i.tutional manner in which his congregation sought redress from the government, for the insult offered them, through his person, in the abuse of his servant by the trooper Lord. On concluding his address, he was warmly cheered, when the reverend gentleman and his friends adjourned to the parsonage, to partake of some refreshments.

Chapter XXI.

Public Meeting Held on Bakery-hill, November llth.

Political changes contemplated by THE REFORM LEAGUE.

1. A full and fair representation.--Don't you wish you may get it?

2. Manhood suffrage.--Thanks to the Eureka-boys, it costs now one pound.

Cheap!

3. No property qualification of members for the Legislative Council.--The identical thing for 'starring' on stumps to a fellow's heart's content.

4. Payment of members.--That's the accommodation!

5. Short duration of Parliament.--Increase the chances of accommodation, that's it.

What was the freight per ton, of this sort of worn out twaddle imported from old England?

How much does this new chum's bosh fetch in the southern markets, and in the Victorian market particularly?

For my part I decline to answer, because I want to attend at the meeting.

J. B. Humffray, is the Secretary of the League; his name is going now the round of the diggings; I wish to see the man in person; is he a great, grand, or big man? that's the question.

When you seen JOHN Ba.s.sON HUMFFRAY, you have at once before you a gentleman, born of a good old family; his manners confirm it, and his words indicate an honest benevolent heart, directed by a liberal mind, entangled perhaps by too much reading of all sorts, perplexed at the prosperity of the vicious, and the disappointment of the virtuous in this mysterious world of ours, but could never turn wicked, because he believes in the resurrection of life.

He is looking some thirty five years old, his person is well proportioned, but inclining to John Bull's. His prepossessing countenance is made up of a fine forehead, denoting astuteness, not so much as shrewdness, how, when and whither to shift his pegs in the battle of life; of a pair of eyes which work the spell; of a Grecian nose; of a mouth remarkable for the elasticity of the lips, that make him a model in the p.r.o.nunciation of the English language. His voice, that of a tenor, undulating and clear, never obstreperous, enables his tongue to work the intended charm, when his head puts that member into motion; but the semi-earnestness of his address, his cool sort of John Bull smile, betray that his heart does not go always with his head. Hence he has many enemies, and yet not one ever dared to substantiate a charge against his character; he has as many friends, but not one friend, because it is his policy ever to keep friendly, with redcoats and gold-lace, at one and the same time as with blueshirts and sou'-westers.

As I cannot possibly mean any thing dishonourable to our old mate, John Ba.s.son Humffray, I may here relate what his foes do say of him.

Suppose any given square and the four pegs to be:

C-------D

W

B-------E

C., that is, the Camp; E., that is, the Eureka; D., that is, the doodledom of red-tape., and B., that is, blue-shirts.

Let W., that is work, be the central point at C, E, and D, B. Now: John is sinking at Eureka with the red cap; and Ba.s.son cracks some yabber-yabber at D, that is, getting a sip of Toorak small-beer, as aforesaid. Again: when Ba.s.son puts on a sou'-wester to go through the main-drift with blue-shirts, then John feels ent.i.tled to tramp up to Camp, and there, somewhere not far off, toast on the fourth of July a Doctor Kenworthy; soon after, however, said Johnny bends his way to shake hands with Signor Raffaello, at the old peg Eureka, and helps him to rock the cradle. Further, to give evidence of his consistency, Humffray himself will express his sorrow to Peter Lalor for his loss of the left arm at the same peg Eureka; and, to atone for past transgressions, he will soon after call in both the prodigal John and yabbering Ba.s.son, and with his whole heart and voice, strike up, 'G.o.d Save the Queen,' at peg Camp. As for bottoming his shaft at the central point Work, that's a different thing altogether; and yet it must be admitted that he is 'all there' in his claim, when the hole is bottomed, especially if a drive is to be put in with his quill. Sum total:--He was, is, and ever will be, John Ba.s.son Humffray, Esquire, of Ballaarat; 'Honi soi qui mal y pense', because his friends want him in St. Patrick's Hall.