subject of any conversation, two questions were
sure to be put, considered excellent tests in
their way: "What family is he of? Has he
ever blazed?" In nuptial matters, "Big brother"
looked with as much nicety into these
qualifications of the pretendant as the father
did into his pecuniary abilities and settlements.
A gentleman of some duelling eminence
was heard trying to quiet his little boy
with some such little endearments as these:
"Come, now, be a good boy! Don't, don't cry,
and you shall have a case of nice little pistols,
and we'll shoot them off all in the morning."
The lively offspring, delighted with the notion,
began to dry its eyes, and revelled in the
pleasing pastime.

A sacred procedure like this, was not to
be left to the discretion of its own wild and
unlicensed professors who at any moment might
bring discredit on their calling, by some little
irregularity, unwarranted by rule. A few earnest
spirits put their hands to the good work,
and fashioned a series of pandects, which may
be said to have regulated the practice of the
honourable profession. The names of these
lawgivers should not be lost, they were "Crow"
Ryan who was president, and James Keogh
and "Amby" Bodkin, secretaries. They "redacted"
the " famous thirty–six commandments
of Galway"—so they were called, with a
pleasant profanity—which were headed thus:

"The practice of duelling and points of honour
settled at Clonmel Summer Assizes, 1777, by
the gentlemen delegates of Tipperary, Galway,
Mayo, Sligo, and Roscommon, and prescribed
for general adoption throughout Ireland."

By these constitutions it was prescribed that
"the first offence requires the first apology,"
though the retort may have been the most
offensive. However, it is to be open that the
second offence may be explained away by
apology, after one fire, that is.

But if the parties would rather fight on, says
constitution the second, then after two shots each
(but in no case before) the second offender
may explain first, and apologise afterwards.
That little parenthesis ( "in no case before " )
should surely be read with small probability
"after," for the intermediate necessity of "two
shots each " rendered the chances of explanation
or apology doubtful at the very least.
Sometimes explanations are tolerated after three
interchanges of shots, but this is a rare
indulgence. Any wound sufficient to make the
hand shake or agitate the nerves must end the
business for that day.

No "dumb shooting," the constitution goes
on to say, with a happy expression, "or firing
in the air is admissible in any case." In slight
cases the principals are furnished with one
pistol, in gross cases two; the second holding
another case ready charged, in reserve.

Sometimes painful disagreements have been
known to arise between the seconds, which can
only be arranged by the same agency as the
principals are availing themselves of. In these
cases symmetry is consulted, and the parties
stand in a pretty quartett at the four corners of
a square, and fire at the same moment. The
difficulty to discover a safe place of retreat for
the gentleman who gives the word must be
great, as the fire more or less covers each
quarter of the horizon.

At this epoch the counties of Tipperary and
Galway were looked up to with a fond pride as
the universities of the science. Galway was
held to turn out the best swordsmen, much as
Cambridge is now so deservedly esteemed for
its mathematics. But Tipperary took the higher
honours of the pistol. The most notable
graduates have the name of Jemmy Keogh, Buck
English, Cosey Harrison, Crowe Ryan, Paddy
Long, Amby Bodkin, Squire Falton, Squire
Blake, and Amby Fitzgerald—names significant
in the highest degree. These gentlemen bore
the highest reputation, and were profoundly
skilled in all the points and niceties of this
elegant chivalry.

It is on record that one of the curious quartette
shooting–matches was fought between Sir
John Bourke, of Glirsk, and Amby Bodkin,
Esq., together with their two seconds. The
practice was spoken of as very exciting; and
the little heir of the family, then only some five
or six years of age, was brought out and hoisted
upon men's shoulders, to "see papa fight." An
umpire gave the signal by firing a pistol; but it
is not mentioned in what place of security he
had posted himself. At the first discharge the
principals were slightly wounded, but not at
all so seriously as to interfere with the prosecution
of the sport. The next volley, the chronicler,
with an allowable enthusiasm, tells us, "told
better." Both the seconds, and Amby Bodkin,
Esq., were seen tottering from the ground.
"They were well hit," the chronicler adds, with
undisguised satisfaction.

Sometimes, far down in the country districts,
the wager of battle was decided on horseback
after the Arab manner. There was a notable
duello of this description some time about the
year seventeen hundred and sixty, between a
sturdy veteran, Colonel Jonah Barrington, and
a neighbour, Mr. Gilbert. Their animosities
were increasing daily, there was an unhealthy
state of secret hostility, not openly declared,
until some judicious friends at last interfered,
and, from a fear that the feud might descend
by way of vendetta to the innocent offspring,
pressed that the matter should be cleared off in
an open, honest, and legitimate way. To their
humane argument, the champions, to their
credit be it said, at once acceded. The ground
was fixed to be the Green of Maryborough,
the distance one hundred yards of race, the
weapons two holster pistols charged with
ball and swan–drops, broadsword and dirk.
The engagement had been advertised for some
six months previous, and the whole country
round flocked to see the exciting spectacle.
The ground was kept, as at a race, by master
gamekeepers and huntsmen.

The details of the fight are recorded. So, too,
and with more minuteness, were the "rounds"