Cornelius O'Dowd Upon Men And Women And Other Things In General

Charles Lever

Charles James Lever

Cornelius O'Dowd Upon Men And Women And Other Things In General

TO JOHN ANSTER, ESQ., LL.D

My dear Anster,

If you knew how often I have thought of you as I was writing this book, – if you knew how there rose before my mind memories of long ago – of those glorious evenings with all those fine spirits, to think of whom is a triumph even with all its sadness, – and if you knew how I long to meet once more the few soldiers who survive of that “old guard,” – you would see how naturally I dedicate my volume to him who was the best of us. Accept it, I beg you, as a token of recollection and regard from your affectionate friend,

    CORNELIUS O’DOWD.

В В В В Lago Maggiore, July 20,1864.

NOTICE

AMIABLE AND ACCOMPLISHED READER,

As I have very little to say for myself that is not said in some of my opening pages, there is no need that I should delay you on the threshold.

You will learn, if you take the trouble, by what course of events I came to my present pursuit, converting myself into what a candid, but not complimentary, friend has called “a diverting Vagabond.”

The fact was, I gave the world every reasonable opportunity of knowing that they had a remarkable man amongst them, but, with a stupidity all their own, they wouldn’t see it; so that when the solicitor who once gave me a brief died – I believe it was a softening of the brain – I burned my wig and retired from the profession.

Now, let people say what they may, it is by no means easy to invent a new line of life; and even if you should, there are scores of people ready to start up and seize on your discovery; and as I write these lines I am by no means sure that to-morrow will not see some other Cornelius O’Dowd inviting the public to a feast of wisdom and life-knowledge, with perhaps a larger stock than my own of “things not generally known.” I will disparage no man’s wares. There is, I feel assured, a market for us all. My rivals, or my imitators, whichever you like to call them, may prove superior to me; they maybe more ingenious, more various, more witty, or more profound; but take my word for it, bland Header, there is always something in the original tap, whether the liquor be Harvey sauce or L.L. whisky, and such is mine. You are, in coming to me, frequenting the old house; and if I could only descend to it, I could print you more testimonials to success than Mr Morrison’s of the pills, or the other man of cod-liver oil, but I scorn to give the names, imparted as they were in secret gratitude. One only trick of the trade I will condescend to – it is to assure you that you had need to beware of counterfeits, and that no O’Dowderies are genuine except signed by me.

My heart is broke with requests for my autograph. Will a sympathising public accept the above – which, of course, will be immediately photographed.

MYSELF

Bland Reader, – If you ever look into the Irish papers – and I hope you are not so exclusive regarding them as is Mr Cobden with the �Times’ – you will see that, under the title, “Landed Estates Court, County Mayo,” Judge Dobbs has just sold the town and lands of Kilmuray-nabachlish, Ballaghy, and Gregnaslattery, the property of Cornelius O’Dowd, Esq. of Dowd’s Folly, in the same county.

Now the above-recited lands, measuring seven hundred and fourteen acres, two roods, and eleven perches, statute measure, were mine, and I am the Cornelius O’Dowd, Esq., referred to in the same paragraph.

Though it is perfectly true that, what between mortgages, settlement claims, and bonds, neither my father nor myself owned these lands any more than we did the island of Jamaica, it was a great blow to me to be sold out; for, somehow or other, one can live a long time in Ireland on parchment – I mean on the mere documents of an estate that has long since passed away; but if you come once to an open sale and Judge Dobbs, there’s an end of you, and you’ll not get credit for a pair of sh