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It cut deep into Molyneux's kind heart; he felt more painfully than he had ever done the difficulty of reconciling his evident duty with the demand of an ancient friendship; on the whole, a guilty consciousness of treachery predominated.
It is first stated in the preface to the edition of 1770 that William Molyneux's Case for Ireland being bound by Acts of Parliament in England, first published in 1698, was burnt by the hangman at the order of Parliament; and the statement has been often repeated by later writers, as by Mr. Lecky, Dr. Ball, and others.
This, however, is a digression, and as such must be forgiven. Returning to the arena of politics, Molyneux's chief claim to remembrance rests upon a work published by him in favour of the rights of the Irish Parliament in the last year but one of the seventeenth century, only seven years therefore after the treaty of Limerick.
"Nestie," said Speug, in hearing of the whole school, "ye're a plucky little deevil," and although since then he has been in many places and has had various modest triumphs, that still remains the proudest moment in Nestie Molyneux's life.
"It is what you always do do, before you have been an hour there," I observed. "Jane, in Heaven's name leave those things alone! Is this sort of thing all you came in for?" "No; I really came in to ask if you had read Lucinda Molyneux's letter." "No, I have not; her writing is too bad for anything. Besides, I know exactly what she has got to say.
When the English Act of 1698, which was meant to destroy, and did destroy, the Irish woolen industry, came before the Irish house of commons for ratification, Molyneux's was the only voice raised against its adoption.
Another source of confusion, which arises out of Berkeley's insufficient exactness in the use of language, is to be found in what he says about solidity, in discussing Molyneux's problem, whether a man born blind and having learned to distinguish between a cube and a sphere, could, on receiving his sight, tell the one from the other by vision.
Molyneux's, Lindy, five years ago, when they raised poor old Professor Delaine, and he danced on the table and spelt bliss with one s? I was haunted for weeks afterwards by the dread that there might be a future life, in which we should make fools of ourselves in the same way. What is this?" "It is the carriage just come back from the station. Mr.
Molyneux's maid, who, of course, repeated it all directly and made Lucinda nervous. She is a most troublesome, mischievous old woman." "But she can cook. Pray what are we to do for dinner?" "I am sure I don't know. I never knew anything so unlucky as it all is, and Lucinda looking so ill." "Well, you had better send for the doctor." "She won't hear of it.
"It won't last long it must end in shame and humiliation," my dear Miss C. has remarked, disappointed that the tiles and chimney-pots did not fall down upon Mrs. Stafford Molyneux's head, and crush that cantering, audacious woman. But it was a consolation to see her when she walked out with a French maid, a couple of children, and a little dog hanging on to her by a blue ribbon.
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