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 VOLUME I.— NUMBER I. ] 
 
 BOSTON, SATURDAY, FEBRUARY 13, 1858. 
 
 [ PRICE FOUR CENTS. 
 
 NATIONAL EMBLEMS. 
 
 Such of our re.i'lcrs as are familiar witli tlio parjcs of 
 the late Dublin I'enni/ Jow-nal, and wc doiibr, not lliiiir 
 name is let;ion, will perceive from the alioveenirraving 
 of Irish national emblems, that they arc co|iie(l from 
 the necontl rnimher of that Joarnal. As we have pro- 
 mised a reprint of that popular periodical, some may 
 think it strange that we commence with the second in- 
 stead of the_/!Vs( number, This, will, however, he ac- 
 counted for from the fact, that the first number of that 
 Journal was commenced under very great difficulties, 
 anil was not, by any means, what its publishers desir- 
 
 ed. Taught by their experience and .anxious to stamp 
 at once on our publication a truly Irish national char- 
 actor, wc have avoided the difficulty wliicli they expe- 
 rienced, and at once give a pictorial illustration of na- 
 tional cmhlfins truly (diaracteiistic of the ancient history 
 of our old isle, when she was, indeed, "the gem of the 
 sea." 
 
 Our readers will perceive that our engraving is 
 much larger than the original, and while w-e have im- 
 proved in artistic execution, we have faithfully preserv- 
 ed the historical correctness of the original. 
 
 Our artists arc young Irish gentlemen of great 
 promise, who feel that love of art which transcends all 
 mere mechauical execution ; they are in^I3il■^;d in their 
 
 efforts in our hehalf, with that love of old memories 
 and old familiar scenes which they will not fail to im- 
 press upon their artistic labors. 
 
 The following letter which explains the meaning of 
 the emblems, accompanied the original engraving. 
 
 TO THE EDITOll OV THIS BUULIN PENNY .TOUENAL. 
 
 Sir — Your wooil-cut is, to my api)rehension, as full 
 of meaning to an Irishman, as any emhlematie device 
 I have seen. It represents peculiar marks or tokens Df 
 Ireliind, which are de.tr to my soul. I am bold to say> 
 the Round Tower, .and the Wolf Dog, belong exclu- 
 sively to our country ; not so I allow the Oak, or the 
 
 
 
 
 Shamrock, or the Harp ; and, we may add, the Crown. 
 But Irish Oaks, and Shamrocks, and Harps, as well 
 as Irish Hogs, are known all the worlil over ; and 
 small blame to me, if I try to say it liille about them ! 
 The Round Tower, to the right, is a proiligious puz- 
 zler to antiquarians. Quires of paper as tall as a tower, 
 have been covered with as much ink as might form a 
 Litfey, in accounting for their origin and use. They 
 •avc been assignerl to the obscene rites of Paganism — 
 |\the mystic arcana of Dmidism — said to be temples 
 'i^the fire worshippers — standings of the pillar wor- 
 
 NATIONAL E JI B L E M S . 
 
 shippers — Christian belfries — military towers of the I 
 
 Danish invaders — defensive retreats for the n'Jtive | 
 j clergy, from the sudden inroads of the ruthless Nor- j 
 I man. But all these clever and recondite conj'ctures 
 ' arc shortly, as I understand, to be completely over- I 
 
 thrown, and the real nature of these Round Towers 
 I clearly cxplaiueil, for the lirst time, in a I'rize Essay, j 
 ■ prcscmcil to the Kdvai, Ibirh Ac«ir-;.MV, by an ac- 
 
 compU-liod antiiiiiarinnnf our city. Sixty-live of these 
 I extraordinary constrnctioris have been discovered and 
 
 described in our island; of these, the highest and most 
 
 perfect are at Promiskin, Ferta^h, Kilmncduagh, Kil- 
 dare, and ICcUs. — There are generally the marks of 
 five or six stories in each tower ; the doors are from 
 thirteen to twenty feet from the gr<)un<l, and so low, 
 that none can enter e.\ccpt by stooping. The one 
 nearest to Dublin, is at Clondalkin, four miles from 
 town, — though formerly there was one in a court olT 
 Shipstrcet. The most interesling on", both to 
 the auti(iuarian ami liie lover of mountain scenery, is 
 the one at the Seven Churches of Glendalongh, within 
 a day's drive olUubliu; — tlicsceuoofilic legend given 
 
 ■,t O ': -. 
 
IlilSll .MISCKLLANV 
 
 
 in your first immbor. apd wliUli, if any one of your I inR forth iind florking to a plot of Shnmrocks'or water j 
 n-iulvrs liiis not seen, liu will mil ilo hinisuU' jiisliii;, irc.sBe«, Ui I'uod on ihi'iu Cor llio liniu; ami lio also 
 unless, during tlic line wcailiir, lie contrive to pay it a i i|iiolc« an ICnglisli satirist, one AVytilio, who seollingly 
 
 The next of onr national peculiarities, is that Wolf 
 Dog, wliieh, with piiws most eonteniphitively crossed, 
 is looking aliroiul, and as it were siouiiiig with his 
 keen round eye, for the game tliitt, alas poor I-nuth ! 
 is no longer to he found on hill or eurruli. Ireland, 
 tliou^'h il does indeed eoniain many a ravenous gree- 
 dy ereaturo, is vet no longer infested with wolves. 
 Formcly it was not so. So Into as the year 1CG2, 
 Sir John Ponaonby had to hring into railinment a bill 
 to encourage the killing of wolves. Their covens 
 were tlic hogs, the nionntuins, and those slirubliy tracts 
 then so abundant in the island, and which remained 
 after the ancient woods were cut down ; allbrding 
 shelter, not only for ihe wolf, but the ni/i/Kuw. The 
 last wolf seen in Irchii \ i^s killed in Kerry in 1710. 
 Hut if our country W.IS ,' us once famous for wulves, 
 she was equally noted for its I'oculinr enemy,— and 
 the Irish Wolf Dog, uniting all t .speed of the grey- 
 hound with the strength of the mastiti', and depending 
 on its eye, its loot, and its wind, would hunt down the 
 game, which the aim's vAlris, or scent hound, had 
 started for it. These Irish Dogs were exhibited in the 
 fourth century, at the Cireonsian games at Kome ; 
 they were an article of export from our isle in the mid- 
 dle ages ; they are mentioned in the Welch laws of 
 Howel Dha, as belonging exclusively to the Cambrian 
 princes and nobility ; and a great tine is noted, as to 
 he imposed on tho.-o who should injure them. They 
 ' were employed to hunt the red deer, and the phti/ceros 
 of moose deer, as well as the wolf ;— but the employ- 
 ment being gone, the breed, though not extinct, has 
 ceased to be common ; it is rarely to be seen, though 
 I have marked a certain, grave solemn gentleman, 
 parading through town with a couple of these grim 
 creatures stalking after him, wh:le both he and his 
 dogs looked as if they belonged to an age long gone 
 
 by. 
 
 Now, the hound is couchant beside a gooflly plant 
 of trefoil. The draughtsman seemed determined that 
 the Shamrock should be as gigantic as the dtxj. And 
 why should not our favorite plant have a goodly ap- 
 pearance ? Other countries may boast of their trefoil 
 as well as we : but no where on the broad earth, or con- 
 tinent, or in isle, is there such an abundance of this 
 Bueculent material for making fat mutton. In winter 
 as well as in summer, it is found to spread its green 
 carpet over our limestone hills, drawing its verdure 
 from the mists which sweep from the Atlantic. The 
 seed of it is every where. Cast lime or limestone 
 gravel on the top of a mountain, or on the centre of 
 a bog, and up starts the Shamrock. St. Patrick, 
 when he drove all living things that had venom (save 
 Tttm) from the top of Croagh Patrick, had his foot 
 planted on a Shamrock ; and if the readers of your 
 Jounml will go on a pilgrimage to that most beautiful 
 of Irish hills, they will see the Shamrock still flour- 
 ishing there, and expanding its fragrant honeysuckles 
 to the western wind. I confess I have no patience with 
 tliat impudent Englishm.tn, who wants to make us be- 
 I licve that our darling plant, associated as it is with 
 our religious and convivial parlialiiies, was not the fa- 
 Tourite of St. Patrick, and who would substitute in 
 the place of that badge of our faith and onr nationality, 
 a little sour pnny plant of wood sorrel ! This is ac- 
 tually attempted to be done by that still", sturdy Sax- 
 
 ays of ili 
 
 '■ Who, for their clothing, in mantle goe, 
 " And feed on ^hamrools, as the Irish doc. " 
 But wo are not so easily led, Mr. Saxon ; we Irish- 
 men, are not quite disposed to give up our favorite 
 plant at your bidding. In time of famine, the Irish 
 might have attempted to satisfy hunger with trefoil, as 
 well as they did years ago, when such a thing as 
 sea-weed was eaten, — for hunger will break through a 
 stone wall. But do not the Welch put leeks into 
 tluir bonnets on St. David's day, and now and then 
 they may cat tlfcir leek, us Shakespear has it, as a rel- 
 ish either for an affront or for other sort of food ; and 
 small blame to an Irishman, if, when he feels that 
 queer sensation called hunger, ho chews a plant of 
 clover! I, for one, when going into good company, 
 would rather have my breath redolent of the honey 
 suckle [ilant, than spiced with the liaiit ijimt of garlic ! 
 Yet no Welshman would like to live upon leeks, no 
 more than a poor Irishnmn would upon grass or tre- 
 foil ; for there is, doubtless, as little nourishment for 
 man in the one as the other. Hut to do Mr. Bieheno 
 justice, lie has another argument in favor of the 
 wood-sorrel being tlio favorite plant of onr country, 
 which is far more to an Irishman's mind. He says, 
 that wood-sorrel, when steeped in punch, makes a 
 better substitute for lemon than trefoil. This has 
 something very specious in it. If any thing would do, 
 this would. But let tlie Saxon do his best. Even on 
 his own ground — even in London — he would find it 
 very hard to convince our countrymen, settled in St. 
 Giles, that the oxalis acttoseila, the sour, puny, crab- 
 wooil-sorrel, is the proper emblem for Ireland. No ; 
 " the Shamrock^-thc green Shamrock, " for me ! 
 
 But what will I say al>out the Harp, the gnarled 
 Oak, the regal Crown, the weapons ofwar, andof 
 chase, that are strewed around "i If any of your read- 
 ers want to see a perfect specimen of an Irish harp let 
 them go to Trinity College Museum, and they will sec 
 there the genuine harp of Brian Boro, monarch of 
 Ireland, who used to solace his proud and lofty spirit 
 with this identical instrument, boforc he fell in his 
 country's cnuse at the battle of Clontarf. To he sure 
 it is not such a flni^hed article as Mr. Egan of Dawson- 
 street can supply, at the very goodly snm of a hun- 
 dred and lifty guineas, and whose pedals are as com- 
 plii'atcd as the levers and articulations of the human 
 foot The old Irish harp was inlcnded more for the 
 poet than the musiei.in, and was used as a subordi- 
 nate accompaniment to the recitative of the minstrel ; 
 and who, on looking at the harp of Brian Boro, rude 
 though it be, would not kindle into a rapture of en- 
 thusiasm, at the thought of that valiant minstrel king 
 — and feel his spirit swelling within him, as the words 
 rise to his recollection — 
 
 " His father's sword he hath girded on, 
 " And his wild-harp slung behind him I " 
 
 Yes ! though the harp be hung on Tara's walls, 
 though it he as mute us if the .soul of music had fled, 
 there was a time when the bard made its wild notes 
 ring to his Tyrtcan strains, and roused the warrior to 
 the strife, or awakened within him the softer emotions 
 of love and pity 1 
 
 And who has not heard of Irish Oak ? For though 
 our hills and jjlains are now so hare of trees that they 
 
 that our people once A\tt\t nnderihe grccn-wood tree ; 
 for an Irishmiin cannot walk or wander, sport or light, 
 buy or sell, comfortably, without an oaksiii k in his list. 
 If he travels, he will b g, boiTow, or steal, a shillelagh; 
 if he goes to play, he liuria with a crooked oak sti< k ; 
 if he goes lo a fair, it is delightful to hear the sound 
 of his cloghel peen on the cattle-horns ; if he fights, as 
 fight be must, at market or at fair, the cudgel is bran- 
 dished on high ; and, as Fin Ma Cunl of old smiled 
 grimly in the joy of battle, so his descendants shout 
 lustily in the joy of cudgels — " Hello gaudentes — pajlio 
 ridtiitCB ! " 
 
 " In ruxion delighting, 
 " Laughing — while fighting ! " 
 " Leather away with your oak sticks!" is Btill the 
 privilege, the glory, and the practice of Irishmen. 
 Nay, more while living, their meal, their meat, and 
 their valuables, (if they have any — o/ course) arc kept 
 in oak chests, and when dying, I'add dies quitely, if ' 
 assured that he shall have a decent, " herrin," be . 
 buried in an oaken collin, and attended to the grave 
 by a powerful faction, well provided with oak saplings ! 
 But, Mr. Penny Editor, I am taking up too njuch 
 of your room. Another time, (if (/i/s pleases you,) I ! 
 will give you something about the kingly crown, the J 
 dress, the armour, and the weapons of warfiire, and of ' 
 chase, which adorn your wood-cut ; for dearly do I 
 love eveiy thing connected with Ireland, and as I hap- ( 
 pen to have some little knowledge of the " ould ancient ! 
 times," I may be inclined to write to you again. In f 
 the mean time, thou unmercenary patriot, 1 bid you J 
 farewell, leaving you my best wishes for ihe success of • 
 your .lourinil : for while others are striving to carry , 
 olT our pounds, you merely want to pick up our pen- , 
 nies ; and as reasonable treatment, you may at any j 
 time bid " a penny for the thoughts" of 
 Yours to command, 
 
 Terence O'Toolb. i 
 
 on. Mister Bieheno : though Keogh, Threlkehl, and excito the admiration of all timber-hating Yankees, as 
 
 other Iiish botanLits assert, that the scamar ogf or Sdliin- 
 1 rog, is indeed the IrefuUum riimis ; and Threlkeld ex- 
 pressly says, that " the trefoil is worn by the people in 
 I their hntH upon the ITtli of March, which is called 
 
 they sail along its improvtd shores, yet formely it was 
 not so. No ! It is said that Westminister Hall is 
 roofed with oak, brought from the wood of Shillelagh : 
 and a great many of our common names are signitl 
 
 SiiST Patrick's Dat, it being the current tradition, cant of oak woods. As Kildare, the wood of oak; 
 
 that by this (/iree-/«aiW grass, he emblematically set Londonderry, the oak wood planted by Londoners; 
 
 forth the Iloly Trinity. However that be, when they j Ballindcrry, the town in the oak wood. At the bot- 
 
 ".l their Scamar eye, they often commit excess in torn of all our hogs, and on the tops of our highest 
 
 or, which is not a right keeping a day to the Lord !" ' hills, roots of oak, of immense size are found ; and we 
 
 roof the Englishman adduces, is the testimony of' may very fairly conclude, that though Ireland is now 
 
 -ncer,anothcr Saxon, who, in his view of Ire- j a denuded country, it was once the mo.it umbrageous 
 
 >ribcs the people, in a great famine, as creep- ' of the British isles. The customs of our country show 
 
 LEGENDS AND STOKIES OF IRELAND. \ 
 
 I 
 
 THE LANDLORD AND TENANT. 
 
 AN ADTUISNTIO STORY. 
 
 Owen M'Carthy was the son of a long line of hon- 
 est ancestors, whose names had never, within the 
 memory of man, been tarnished by the commission of 
 a mean or disreputable action. His family believed 
 themselves to be, and probably were, a branch of the 
 Mac Carthy More stock ; and although only the pos- 
 sessors of a small faim, it was singular to observe the 
 eflr'ect which this conviction produced upon them. No 
 one would ever think of iinpu'.ing a dishonest act to 
 the M'Carthy's ; nor would any one ac(iuainted with 
 them hesitate to consider their word as good as the 
 bond of another. Their little farm-house was situa- 
 ted on the south side of a sloping tract of light ground, 
 lively, warm, and productive ; and its picturesque sit- 
 uation was rendered remarkable, not so much for the 
 lovely and romantic objects around, as for the man- 
 ner in which the farm itself was kept. No mim could 
 rise, be it ever so early, who would not find Owen 
 M'Carihy up before him ; no man could anti<ipate 
 him in an eariy crop ; and if a widow, or a sick ac- 
 quaintance, were unable to get in their harvest, Owen 
 was sure to collect the neighbors to assist them — to 
 be the first there himself— and with quiet benevolence, 
 encouraging them to a zealous performance of the 
 frendly task in which they were engaged. His little 
 place was called Tubher Oerg, or ihe Red Well, from 
 the eircumstJince of a chalihcato s/<j being not far 
 from the door of his hou.«c, and which, oozing out of 
 the earth, spread its crimson stream across the path. 
 
 Soon after Owen's marriage, the lease of the farm 
 held by the family expired, and on its being renewed, 
 ihe rent was raised one pound an acre. Until that 
 time, the M'Carthy's had lived in comparative inde- 
 pendence ; hard working, decent people, who luul 
 withal to live themselves, and a little to spare for ihe 
 wants and distresses of others. But now Owin's ruiu- 
 forts were abridged, and the^jent became a heavy l,ni 
 den; jet by dint cf persevering industry, and cartft , 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 . hubits, ho strove for many years to maintain tlint re- 
 . spcotoblc decency wliicli it Imd been always tlie pride 
 of his family to keep up. He contrived to pay liis 
 vrent with tolerable rejiiilarity ; sometimes he would 
 raii;Ii as he glanced forward to the time when he might 
 nor 1)0 able to work as he did : but he would cheek 
 himself, pursue bis labor with unremitting assiduity, 
 and strutiglcd hard to meet all the engagements which 
 a weighty rent, the wants of an increasing family, and 
 the serious fluctuations in. the price of agricultural 
 produce entailed upon him. 
 
 At last a change began to appear in his personal 
 appearance, in his farm, in the dress of his children, 
 and in the economy of his household. Improvements 
 which adequate capital would have enabled him to ef- 
 fect, were left either altogether unattcmpted or in an 
 imperfect state, resembling neglect, though, in reality, 
 the result of poverty. IIis dress at mass, and in fairs 
 and markets, had, by degrees, lost that air of comfort 
 and warmth which bespeak the independent farmer. 
 The evidences of embarrassment began to disclose 
 themselves in many small points, inconsiderable it is 
 true, but not the less significant. His house, in the 
 progress of his declining circumstances, ceased to bo 
 annually ornamented by a new eoat of whitewash — 
 soon assumed a faded and yellowish hue, and sparkled 
 not in the setting sun as in the days of Owen's pros- 
 perity. It had, in fact, a wasted, unthriving look like 
 its master ; the thatch became black and rotten upon 
 its roof, the chimney sloped to opposite points, the win- 
 dows were less neat, and, ultimately, when broken, 
 were patched with a couple of leaves from the child- 
 rens' blotted copy-books. His out-houses also began 
 to fltil ; the neatness of bis little farm-yards, and the 
 cleanliness which marked so conspicuously the space 
 fronting his dwelling-house, disappeared in the course 
 of time. Filih began to accumulate where no filth 
 had been ; his garden was not now planted so early, 
 nor with taste and neatness as before ; his crops were 
 later and less abundant ; his haggards neither so full 
 nor so trim as they were wont to be, nor his ditches 
 and enclosures kept in such good repair. His cars, 
 ploughs, and other farming implements, instead of be- 
 ing put imder cover, were left exposed to the influence 
 of wind and weather, where they soon became crazy 
 and useless. 
 
 Year after year produced deeper, more extensive, 
 and more complicated misery; and when he hoped 
 that every succeeding season would bring an improve- 
 ment in the market, he was destmed to experience not 
 only a fresh disappointment — but an unexpected de- 
 preciation in the price of his corn, batter, and other 
 disposable commodities. 
 
 When a whole nation is reduced to such a state, no 
 eye but that of God himself can see the appalling 
 wretchedness to which a year of di.sease and scarcity 
 strikes down the poor and working classes. 
 
 Owen, after a long and noble contest for nenrlj' 
 three years, sank, at length, under the untted visitation 
 of disease and scarcity. The father of the family was 
 laid low upon the bed of sickness, and those of tin m 
 who escaped it were almost consumed by famine. 
 This two-fold shock sealed his ruin ; his honest heart 
 was cru'^hed — his hardy frame shorn of its strength, 
 and ho to whom every neighbor flfd as to a friend, 
 now nnuired friendship at a moment when the wide- 
 spread poverty of the country rendered its assistance 
 hopeless. 
 
 On rising from his bed of sickness, the prospect be- 
 fore him required his utmost fortitude to bear. Wast- 
 ed in energy both of mind and body, reduced to utter 
 poverty, with a large family of children, too young to 
 assist him, without meaas of retrieving himself, his 
 wife and himself gaunt skiletons, his farm neglected, 
 bis house wrecked, and his offices falling to ruin, yet 
 every day bringing the half-year's term nearer — Oh, 
 ye who riot on the miseries of such men — ye who roll 
 roand the easy circle of fashionable life, think upon 
 this picture ! Ye vile and heartless landlords, who see 
 not, hear not, know not those to whose heart-breaking 
 toil ye owe the only merit ye possess — that of rank in 
 society ; come and contemplate this virtuous man, as, ' 
 
 unfriended, unassisted, and uneheerod by those who 
 are bound by a strong and moral duty to protect and 
 aid him. he looks shuddering into tlie dark and cheer- 
 less future ! Is it to be wondered at tliat he, and such 
 as he, should, in the misery of his despair, join the 
 nightly meetings, bo lured to associate himself with 
 the incendiary, or seduced to grasp, in the stupid apa- 
 thy of wretchedness, the weapon of the murderer? 
 By neglecting the people, by draining them with mer- 
 ciless rapacity of the means of life, by goading them 
 on under a cruel system of rack rents, ye become not 
 their natural benefactors, but curses and scourges, 
 nearly as much in reality as ye are in their opinion. 
 
 When Owen rose, he was driven by hunger, direct 
 asd immediate, to sell his best cow ; and having laid 
 in as much oatmeal at an enormous price, paid to a 
 well known miser in the parish, who hoarded up this 
 commody for a " dear summer," he laid his plans for 
 the future, with as much judgment as any man could 
 display. One morning after breakfast, he addressed 
 his wife as follows : — 
 
 " Kathleen, mavourneen, I want to consult wid you 
 about what we ought to do ; things are low wid us, 
 astliore ; and except our heavenly Father puts it into 
 the heart of them I'm goin' to mention, I don't know 
 what we'll do, nor what'ill become of these poor crath- 
 urs that's naked and hungry about us. God pity them, 
 they don't know — and maybe that same's some com- 
 fort — the hardships that's before them. Poor crath- 
 urs, see how quiet and sorrowful they sit about their 
 little play, passing the lime for themselves as well as 
 they can ! Alley, a-cushla machree, come over to me, 
 Your hair is bright and fair. Alley, and curls so pur- 
 tily tliat the finest lady in the land might envy it, but, 
 a-cushla, your color's gone, your little hands are 
 wasted aw.ay, too ; that sickness was hard and sore 
 upon you, a-coHetn machree, and he that 'ud spend liis 
 heart's blood for you, darlin, could do nothing to help 
 jou ! " 
 
 He looked at the child as he spoke, and a slight 
 motion in the muscles of his face was barely percep- 
 tible, but it passed away ; and after kissing her, he 
 proceeded : — 
 
 " Ay, the creathurs — you and I, Kathleen, could 
 earn our bread for ourselves yet, but these can't do it 
 This last stroke, darlin,' has laid us at the door of 
 both poverty and sickness, but blessed be the mother 
 of heaven for it, they're all left wid us ; and sure that's 
 a blessin' we've to be thankful (or — glory be to God !" 
 " Ay, poor things, ii's well to liave them spared. 
 Owen, dear ; sure I'd rather a thousand times beg 
 from door to door, and have my children to look ar, 
 than be in comfort widout them." 
 
 "Beg!— that 'ud go hard wid me, Kathleen. I'd 
 work — I'd live on next to nothing all the year round — 
 but to see the crathurs that wor dacently bied up, 
 brought to that, I eould'nt bear it, Kathleen — 'twould 
 break the heart widin me. Poor as they are, thev 
 have the blood of kings in their veins ; and besides, to 
 see a WCarthy beggin' his bread in the counthry where 
 his name was once great — The M'Carihy More,ihat was 
 ihcir title — No, a-eushia — I love them as 1 do the 
 Idood in my own veins ; but I'd rather see them in the 
 arms of God in heaven, laid down dacently, wid their 
 liitle soriowful faces washed, and their little bodies 
 streehed out purtily before my eyes — I would — in the 
 grave-yard there beyant, where all belonging to me 
 lie, than have it cast up to them, or have it said, that 
 ever a M'Carthy was seen beggin' on the highway." 
 " But, Owen, can you strike out no plan for us 
 that 'ud put us in the way of comin' round agin ■; 
 Those [)Oor ones, if we could hold out for two or three 
 years, would soon be able to help us." 
 
 " They would — they would. I'm thinkm' this day 
 or two of a plan ; but I'm doidjtful whether it 'ud come 
 to any thing." 
 
 " What is it a-cushla ? Sure we can't be worse nor 
 we are, any way." 
 
 "I'm goin' to go to Dublin. I'm tould that the 
 landlord's come home from France, and that he's there 
 now; and if I did'nt see him, sure 1 could seethcagint. 
 Now, Kaililecn, my intiniion 'ud be to lay our case 
 
 before the head landlord himself, in hopes he might 
 hould back his hand, and spare us for a while. If t 
 had a line from the agint, or a scrape of a pen that I 
 could show at home to same of the nabors, who knows 
 but I could borry what 'ml set us up agin ! I think 
 many of them 'ud be sorry to see me turned out, Kath- 
 leen ? " 
 
 The Irish arc an imaginative pcoiile ; indeed too 
 much so, for either their individual or national hap- 
 piness. And it is this and superstition, which also de- 
 pends much npon imagination, that make them so 
 easily influenced by those extravagant dreams which 
 are held out to them by persons who understand their 
 character. 
 
 When Kathleen heard the plan on which Owen 
 founded his expectations of assistance, her dark mel- 
 ancholy eye flashed with a portion of its former fire ; 
 a transient vivacity lit up her sickly features, and sho 
 turned a smile of hope and aii^ction upon her children, 
 then upon Owen. '"' ' 
 
 " Arrah, thin, wli "hows, indeed! — who knows but 
 he might do soirethifig for us 1 and maybe we might 
 be as well as ever yet ! May the Lord put it into his 
 heart, any how ! I declare ay ! — maybe it was God 
 put into your heart, Owen ! " 
 
 " I'll set off, " replied her husband, who was a mati 
 of decision — " I'll set off on other morrow morning; 
 and as nobody knows any thing about it, so let there 
 not be a word said upon the subject good or bad. If 
 I have success, well and good ; but if not, why nobody 
 need be the wiser. " 
 
 The heart-broken wife evinced, for the remainder of 
 the day, a buoyancy of spirits which she had not felt 
 for many a month before. Even Owen was less de- 
 pressed than usual, and employed himself in making 
 such arrangements as he knew would occasion his 
 family to feel the inconvenience of his abscence less 
 acutely. But as the hour of bis departure drew nigh, 
 a Eorro\vful feeling of affection rising into greater 
 strength and tenderness, threw a melancholy gloom 
 around his hearth. According to their simple view 
 of distance, a journey to Dublin was a serious under- 
 taking. Owen was in weak health, just risen out of ill- 
 ness, and what was more alarming than any other con- 
 sideration — since their marriage they never had been 
 separated before. 
 
 On the morning of his departure, he was up before 
 day-break, aud so were his wife and children, for the 
 latter had heard the conversation already detailed be- 
 tween them, and, with their simple-minded parents, 
 enjoyed the gleam of hope which it presented ; but 
 this soon changed— when he was preparing to go, an 
 indefinite sense of fear, and a moi'e vivid elingirrg of 
 affection marked their feelings. He himself partook 
 of this, and was silent, depressed, and less ardent than 
 when the speculation fir'st presented itself to his mind. 
 His resolution, however, was taken, and should he fail 
 no blame at a future time could be attached to him- 
 self. It was the last effort; aud to neglect it, he thought, 
 would have been to neglect his duty. 
 
 When breakfast was ready .they all sat down in silence; 
 the hour was yet early, and a rrish-light was jrlaced in 
 a wooden candlestick that stood beside them, to af- 
 ford light. There was something solemn and touch- 
 ing in the gr-oup as they sat in dim relief, every face 
 marked by the traces of sickness, want, sori-ow, and 
 affection. The father attenrpted to eat but he could 
 not ; Kathleen sat at tire meal but could taste nothitrg ; 
 the cbildr-en eat, for hurtger at the moment was pre- 
 dominant' over every other sensation. At length it 
 was over, and Owen rose to depart ; he stood for a 
 minute on the floor, and seemed to take a survey of 
 his cold, cbeei'less home, and then of his family; ho 
 cleared his thi-oat several times, but did not speak. 
 
 " Kathleen, ," said he, at length, " in the name of 
 God I'll go ; and may his blessing be about you, as- 
 tliore machree, and guard you and these darlins till I 
 come back to yces." 
 
 Kathleen's faithful heart could bear no more ; sho 
 laid herself on his bosom — clung to his neck, and, ti 
 the parting kiss was given, she wept aloud, fai 
 
 \CotUiiidedou iiayesO atid'i.] f' 
 
lUlSll M1SCELLA.NV. 
 
 CLONGOWES. 
 
 Arwc intend toUcvoto ponio 
 portion of our !»«(.'»■.« mit only to 
 lliu various Iu>iiiult<iiis rt tl'O 
 «ltv of KIHI.IN. l.ul ..I iitr.- 
 LA'MJ, wi- tliiiik .Mir r.iiiUi> Hill 
 jiot l>v ili~|iliu-i<l 111 Miiii(! » ri'|>- 
 n-M'ntutiiiu of 1 l.n.N(,(>\VtS 
 C'Ol.l-Klii: ill our .I.ihvuhI. A 
 pi'iitli'iuiiii wlio-L- litirury cliiir- 
 noter liHimls mry lii).'li in llii' cMi- 
 niution uf ull riiiikri iliul |mrlii'ii, 
 niiil whoM* luitiiiuuriuii iiuri<iiitri 
 iiiul imtriolic fXiTtioiiH for tlio 
 lili'nituiu of Irt'luiiil. iiru well 
 kllou'li, lins very kimll; 
 
 to . 
 
 ;<iui.it. mill tu 
 
 ^lll'.l 
 
 Willi 11 .-ketch of CAIti.lNti 
 >(il!l>. wliii-li »iM iipiKiuiii our 
 4tli liumlH'r; iiuil lii' IiumiiIiiiu- 
 
 apiiroucliinx iiiu'ii'>iii)^ K'u^oll. 
 
 UTTLK JOHN IXIUKF.AM). 
 
 STAMiirusT tells u niiiKiiliir 
 story aliout I.itlle .loliii, tlio uo- 
 Intile comiKiiiiiin ui lii.liiii lioi-if. 
 
 ■\Vu UmV lis Hill u-ive llic lUlllliT 
 
 in till- \vonlsoftruiiiitlior. Hill, e 
 curious ililbriiiniioli is set otf tiy 
 lii.s singular styly of luiriatiie, 
 >vliicti to nn iintii|iinr)]iiiis as " ii|>- 
 pl«s of gold in pictures ofi^ilver.'' 
 Speakint; ot Oxinantown-grven 
 ho says, — " lu tlio furtliest cuil of 
 
 thiH field there is a iiolo, ootn 
 inonly tornied Scald lirotlier'n 
 hole, u lnl>>riiilli reaching two 
 Iliru'e inyles under the eu r t li. 
 'Jlifslinle was in uldtyim fi-e- 
 queliteil hv a nutoriouB tlilefe, 
 unnied Siiild lln.lher, wherein 
 he UMiiNI hide nil the hn|.'):e and 
 b»),'L-li(;e he c.iuld liill'er. ihll 
 varh-ii HUH Misniii c.niioi, as ho 
 liulh I'lV-oiMies uuli'ulithe swift- 
 est and lir-iie-i vnuiig men in 
 OstiiiaiitoHii(n\iimi<tiiHii.)niau- 
 pre their heiuls. Iielirillg a potto 
 or panne <d' theirs upon h i s 
 shoulders, to his den. And now 
 mid then. in derision ofthemjliat 
 pursued him. he would lake liiH 
 course uudirlhe (.-ulhiwes. whieli 
 dtuiidelh \erv nigh his. have (a 
 fiitle si^jiie lor Mieh an 
 
 hei 
 
 ided 
 
 ilhin his 
 
 lodge, he 1-eek,., 
 sure, none hiiiig found at that 
 tvniesohurdv ns would adven- 
 iMlel.. eiiluiiVle himself Hitliiu 
 -.. inlrieiile a iiin/e. Itut BH the 
 ]>it('lier thai goelh ollen to the 
 \MiIer, eonieth ot length honiu 
 hriiken. so I his lusty youth would 
 not surcease from open catching, 
 forcihie snatching, and privy 
 jirowling, until he was hv cer- 
 tain groi.ing groomes. that lav in 
 wiiyle for him, intercepted llec- 
 iiig' towards his coucli — having 
 ujion his iippreheiision, no more 
 wrong done him, than that ho 
 
 CLONGOWES. 
 
 wa.< not sooner hanged on thai gallowcs, through which, in 
 his youth and jollity, he was wont to run. 
 
 " There also standeth on Ostmantown-greene, a hillock, 
 uoined LittU John his fhat: the occasion proceeded of this: 
 
 '•lu the year 1189, there ranged three robhers and out- 
 laws in England, among which Uobert Uood and Little 
 John werechienaines; and ofall thieves, douhtlessthc most 
 courteous. Kohert flood being betrayed at a priory in Scot- 
 land' called liricklise, tlie remnant oftbecnicwasiscuttered, 
 and every man forced to shift forliimself. Wliereupon Lit- 
 tle John was fayne to ttio the rcalme, by snyliiig into Ire- 
 land, where he sojourned for a few days at Dublin. The 
 citizens being to understand the wandering outcast to be an 
 excellent archer, requested of him hastily to try how far he 
 could shoot at random ; who yielding to their request, stood 
 on tlie bridge of Dublin, [the same that now leads from 
 Bridge-street to Church-street,] and shoot to that mole-hill 
 , IcaWng behind him a memorial rather by his posteritic to 
 be wondered at, than possibly by any man living to be 
 connter^cored. But as the rcpayre of so notorious a cham- 
 pion to any countrye would soon be published, so his abode 
 could not be long concealed; and therefore to eschew the 
 danger of laws, he fled into Scotland, where he dyed at a 
 town or village called Jloranny, Gerardus Jlercator, in his 
 cosmographye, atririneth, that in the same town the hones 
 of a iiugc and mighty man arc, kept, which wascalled Little 
 John; among which bones the buckle bone or hip bone was 
 of such largeuesse, as witncs.setli Hector Boethiiis, that he 
 thurst his arm through the hole thereof; and the some bone 
 being suited to the other parts of his body, did argue the 
 man to have been FOUKTEKX FFET long, (! !) which was a 
 pretty length for a /iKte John: whereby appcareth that he 
 was called Little .rolin ironically' lyke as we terine him an 
 honesl man, whom we take for a knave in graync." 
 
 lEISH MINSTKELSY. 
 MAC CABE'S ELKUY UN TllK DUATII OF CAKOLAN 
 
 Tn.\S8LATKI> BY TIIO.M AS KURLOKO. 
 
 Woe is my portion! unremitting woe! 
 Idly and wildly in ray grief 1 ravo ; 
 Thy song, my Turlogh, shall he sung no more— 
 Thro' festive halls no more thy strains shall flow : 
 
 The thrilling music of thy harp is o'er 
 
 The hand that wak'd it moulders iu the grave. 
 I start at dawn— I mark the country's gloom— 
 O'er the green hills a heavy cloud appears ;— 
 Aid me, kind Heaven, to bear my bitter doom. 
 To check my murmurs, and restram my tears. 
 Oh I gracious God ! how lonely are my days, 
 
 At night sleep comes not to the.se wearied eyes, 
 Kor beams one hope my sinking heart to roise— 
 In Turlogh's grave each hope that chccr'd me lies 
 
 Oh ! ye blest spirits, dwelling with your God, 
 Hymning his praise as ages roll along, 
 
 Receive my Turlogh in your bright abode. 
 And hid liim aid you in your sacred song. 
 
 STATISTICS. 
 
 EMPLOYMENT FOR THE IRISH LABORER. 
 
 There are in Ireland five millions of Enf;lish acres of 
 waste land, whose lowest elevation is 203 feet above the 
 level of the sea, at low water. Theirbest manure, lime- 
 stone gravel, lies in central hills, with everj- facility to 
 improvement to water-carriage. The hogs of Ire. 
 land differ from the boggy, moory, and fenny lands 
 of England, with regard to the facility of reclaiming, 
 and still more in point of valae. In other countries 
 reclaiming requires considerable skill, and is expen- 
 sive : In Ireland nature lias been so bountiful that little i They pictured it in the shape of a young man, very 
 skill and small expense will do. If the proprietors of : fair, liarc-hcaded, and meanly attired ; on the outside 
 waste lands in Ireland will come fairly forward, give of bis garment was written, vice el iiiori, " To live and 
 l!ie people long leases, and let them at a fair rent pro- die ; " on his forehead, aestule et hyeme, " In summer 
 portionatc to their yearly produce, .so that each party and winter; " bis breast was open, so that his heart 
 wonld have a mutual interest in their improvement, might be seen; and with his finger he pointed to his 
 as is the case in Italy and France ; and if they would i heart, where was written, jn-ope huge, " l''arand near." 
 also allow a primary expenditure of three pounds an | But such kind of friends are rather scarce, 
 acre, the people will willingly give their present waslel The power of beauty is universally acknowledged, 
 /aftor without any charge, in expectation of future in- and may be termed Nature's letter of rccommendiv 
 
 Thistles, though noxious things in themselves, are 
 usually signs of an excellent ground whereon they 
 n-row; so ba-shfulness, though it be a weakness and be- 
 trayer of tlie mind, is yet generally an argument of a 
 soul ingenuously and virtuously inclined. 
 
 These bodies are usually the most healthful, that 
 break out in their youth, and sometimes the souls of 
 men prove the sounder, for having vented tliemselyes 
 in their younger days. 
 
 There needs no greater commendation of a sober 
 life, than that most men covet to be reputed temperate, 
 though they be strangers to the practice thereof. 
 Drunkards and gluttons are tubs to hold wash and 
 grains for swiiie, and rescrvatories for ort':ds. 
 
 Every man knows how to row in a calm ; au indif- 
 ferent pilot will guide a ship well m smooth water. To 
 repress otu- rising passion in the midst ol provocation, 
 will prove that we can handle the helm in a storm. 
 
 The ancients had a most excellent emblem ; whereby 
 they used to express a true and sincere, friendship 
 
 LEGENDS AND STORIES OF IRELAND. 
 
 We intend to present to our renders regularly with 
 whatever is gay and agreeable and interesting in Irish 
 legendry lore, or mirthful and amusing in Irish stories. 
 We cannot, therefore, better commence than by ex- 
 tracting from " Legends and Stories of Ireland," by 
 our clever townsman, Mr. Lover. His little volume is 
 already in a second edition. Cindeed we believe it is 
 nearly sold off,) and though many of our readers aro 
 doubtless well acquainted witli it, we also know that 
 many more have been able to procure either a copy or 
 a reading, and who, after lingering at the bookseller's 
 window, and casting a longing look at Mr. Ixjver's 
 capital pictorial illustrations, have been obliged to jiass 
 on with a siyh that they could not get a peep into 
 " My New Pittay-a-tees, or to get their flagon filled 
 with some of Corny's best." The first story, " King 
 O'Toole and St. Kevin," has been given repeatedly to 
 the ])ublic — but no matter — it is a goal thing — and 
 though wo cannot accomjiany the story with that 
 lattgliablc Cruikshank elongation of countenance which 
 his Malcsty wears in the volume, yet — our readers can 
 imaijine tl ! 
 
 KING O'TOOLE AND ST. KAVIN. 
 
 Jl legend of OLENDALOIIOII. 
 
 " By that lake, whose gloomy elioro 
 Sky-lark never warbles o'er, 
 ■Where the clilT hangs high and steep, 
 Young St. Kevin stole to sleep."- il/oore 
 AViio has not read of St. Kavin, celebrated as ho 
 has been by Moore in the melodies of his native land, 
 with whose wild and impassioned music he has so inti- 
 mately entwined his name ? Through him, in the 
 beautiful ballad whence the epigraph of this story is 
 ([uotcd, the world already knows that the sky-lark, 
 through the intervention of the saint, never startles 
 the morning with its joyous note in the lonely valley 
 of Glendalongh. In the same ballad, the unhappy 
 passion which the saint inspired, and the "unholy 
 blue" eyes of Kathleen, and the melancholy fate of 
 the heroine by the saint's going " unused to the melt- 
 ing mood," are also celebrated ; as well as the super- j 
 stitious>'na/c of the legend, in the spectral appearance 
 of the lovc-lom maiden. 
 
 "And her ghost was seen to glide 
 Gently o'er the fatal tide." I 
 
 Thus has Moore given, within the limits of a bal- j 
 lail, the spirit of two legends of Glendalongh, which j 
 otherwise the reader might have been put to the trouble 
 after a more round-about fashion. But 
 
 dependence. Thus, on the very principle which leads tion : nevertheless ho might make a sorry bargain *''<> "^^J^.f. "("^^^se coming after him, one legend he has 
 
 so many of our countrymen into the hope of bettering would buy a watch because of the goodliness of ""^i . . 
 
 \lheir condition, — might thons-iuds of our poor, liungrv, case. , ,, , j „ ,.„,..„rii,„" 
 
 \ • 1^ 1 > !:■ . I , J. J. ,1 " touched by a hand more unworthy ' — 
 
 Vglectcd brethren be comfortably employed, and the Light injuries are made none by disregarding them ; t ' 1 "n 
 WryriBcinvaluephysicallyandmorally.-^rwnsiwhieh, if revenged, grow burdensome and grievous, and instead of a lyrical essence, the raw metenai in 
 
 ^cticai ruw. Uvins to hurt us, when they might die to secure us. | prose is offered, nearly verbatun as tt was furmshed to . 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 me by that celebrated Kiiido and bore, .Too Irwin, 
 who traces liis descent in a direct line IVoin the old 
 Irish kings, and warns the public in general that 
 ' tlioro's a power of them spalpeens slhravuigin ' about, 
 'sthrivin' to put their comtt/ier upon the quol'ty, [(Qual- 
 ity — the Irish gentry gcnerolly call the higher orders 
 
 divart him no longer ; and then it was that the poor 
 king was lost coniplate, and didn't know what in ihe 
 wide world to do, seein' ho was done out of all divar- 
 shin, by raison that the gooso was no more in the 
 (lower of her blume. Well, the king was well nigh 
 broken-hearted, and melancholy entirely, and wus 
 
 , quality.'] and callin' thcmsolves Irwin, (knowin,' the wulkin' one mornin' by the edge of the lake, lamentin' 
 
 theives o' the world, how his name had Sone far and his cruel fate, an thinkin o' drownin' himself, that 
 
 near, as the rale guid,) for to deceive dacant people; could get no divarshin in life, wlien all of a suddint, 
 
 but never to b'leive the likes — for it was onlymnlvath- turnin' round the corner bcyant, who should he meet 
 
 erin jicoido they wor.' For my part, I promised nev 
 to put faith in any but himself; and the old rogue's 
 self-love being satisfied, we set out to explore the won- 
 ders of Glendalough. On arriving at a small ruin, 
 situated on the south-eastern side of the lake, ray guide 
 assumed an air of importance, and led mo into the ivy- 
 covered remains through a small square door- way whose 
 simple structure gave evidence of its early date ; a lin- 
 tel of stone lay across two upright supporters, after 
 the fashion of such religious remains in Ireland. 
 
 ' This, Sir,' said ray guide, putting himself into an 
 attitude, ' is the chapel of King O'Toole — av coorse 
 y'iv often heerd 'o King O'Toole, your honor?' 
 
 'Never,' said I. 
 
 ' Muslia, thin, do you tell me so ? ' said he, I thought 
 all the world, far and near, heerd o' King O'Toole — 
 well, well ! ! but the darkness of mankind is ontellible ! 
 Well, Sir, you must know, as you did'nt bear it afore, 
 that there was wonst a king, called King O'Toole, 
 ■who was a fine ould king in the ould ancient times, long 
 ago ; and it was him that ownded the churches in the 
 airly days.' 
 
 ' Surely,' said T, ' the churches were not in King 
 O'Toole's time ? ' 
 
 ' Oh, by no mane', your honor — troth, it's j'ourself 
 that's right enough there ;but you know the place is 
 called ' The Churches,' bekase they wor hnWt qflher by 
 St. Kavin, and wint by the name o' the churches iver 
 more; and therefore, av coorse, the place bein' so 
 called, I say that the kingowndtd the churches — and 
 whv not Sir, seeia' 'twas his birth-right, time out o' 
 mind, beyant the flood ? Well, the king, you see, was 
 the riglit sort — he was. the rale boy, and loved sport as 
 
 but a mighty dacent young man comin' up to him. 
 
 " ' God save you,' says the king, (for the king was a 
 civil-spoken gentleman, by all accounts,) ' God save 
 you,' says ho to the young man. 
 
 " ' God save you kindly,' says the young man to 
 him, back again, ' God save you,' says he, ' King 
 O'Tool.' 
 
 " Thrno for 3'ou,' says the king, ' I am King 
 O'Toole,' says he, ' prince and plennyponnytinchery o' 
 tliesc parts,' says he, ' but how kem you to know 
 that V says he. 
 
 " ' Oh, never mind,' says Saint Kavin. 
 
 " For you see," said old Joe, in his under tone 
 again, and looking very knowingly, " it was Saint 
 Kavin, sure enough — the saint in disguise, and no- 
 body else." 
 
 " ' Oh, never mind,' says ho, ' I know more than 
 that,' says he, ' nor twice that." 
 
 " ' And who are you V said the king, ' that makes 
 so bowld — who are you at all, at all ?' 
 
 " ' Oh, never you mind,' says Saint Kavin, '-who I 
 am ; you'll know more o' me before we part, King 
 O'Toole,' says ho. 
 
 " ' I'll be proud o' the knowledge o' your acquaint- 
 ance, says the king, raiglity p'lite. 
 
 " ' Troth, you may say that,' says Saint Kavin. 
 ' And now, may I make bowld to ax, how is your 
 goose. King O'Toole ?' says he. 
 
 " ' Blur-an-agers, how kem you to know about my 
 goose?' says the king. 
 
 " ' Oh, no matter ; I was given to understand it," 
 says Saint Kavin. 
 
 " ' Oh, that's a folly to talk,' says the king ; ' bekase 
 
 he loved his life, and huntin' in partic'lar; and from myself and my goose is private frinds,' says he; 'and 
 
 the risin' o' tlie sun, up he got, and away he wint over 
 the mountains beyant afther the deer: and the fine 
 times them wor ; for the deer was as plinty thin, aye 
 throth, far plintyer than the sheep is now: and that's 
 the way it Wiis with the king, from the crow o' the cock 
 to the song o' the redbreast' 
 
 'In this counthry, Sir,' added he, speaking paren- 
 thetically in an under lone, ' we think it onlookly to 
 kill the redbreast, for the robin is God's own bird.' 
 
 Then, elevating his voice to its former pitch, he 
 proceeded : 
 
 " Well, it was all mighty good, as long as the king 
 had his health ; but you see, in coorse o' time, the 
 king grown owld, by raison he was stiff in his limbs, 
 and when he got sthriuken in years, his heart failed 
 hira, and he was lost intirely for want o' divarshin, 
 bekase he couldn't go a hnn'in' no longer; and, by 
 dad, the poor king was obleeged at last for to get a 
 goose to divart him." 
 
 Here an involuntary smile was produced by this 
 regal mode of recreation, — "the royal game of 
 goose." 
 
 " Oh, you may laugh, if you like," said he, half af- 
 fronted, " but it's truth I'm telling you; and the way 
 the goose divarted him was this-a-way you sec, the 
 goose used for to swim acrass the hike and go down 
 divin' for throut (and not finer throut in in all Ireland 
 than the same throut,) and cotch fish an a Friday for 
 the king, and flow every other day round about the 
 lake, divartin' the poor king, that you'd think he'd 
 break his sides laaghin' at the frolicsome tricks av his 
 goose ; so in coorse o' time the goose was the greatest 
 pet in the counthry, and the biggest rogue, and di- 
 varted the king to no end, and the poor king was as 
 happy as the day was long. So that's the way it was; 
 and all went on mighty well, until, by dad, the 
 goose got sthrickcn in years, as well as the king, and 
 gTcwQ stilf in the limbs, like her mosther, and couldn't 
 
 no one could tell you,' says he, ' barrin' the fairies. 
 
 " ' Oh, thin, h wasn't tlio fairies,' says Saint Kavin ; 
 ' for I'd have j'ou to know,' says he, ' that I don't 
 keep the likes of sich company.' 
 
 " ' You m'^ht do worse, then, mygay fellow,' says 
 the king ; for it's thei/ cotild show you a crock o' 
 money as aisy as kiss hand ; and tliat's not to be 
 sneezed at,' saj-s the king, ' by a poor man" says 
 he. 
 
 " ' Maj'be I've a betther way of making money my- 
 self,' says the saint. 
 
 ' ' By gor,' says the king, ' barrin' you're a coiner,' 
 says he, ' that's impossible.' 
 
 ' ' I'd scorn to be the like, my lord !' says Saint 
 Kavin, mighty high, ' I'd scorn to be the like,' says 
 he. 
 
 ' ' Then what arc you,' says the king, ' that makes 
 money so aisy, by your own account V 
 ' ' I'm an honest man,' says Saint Kavin. 
 ' 'Well, honest man,' says the king, 'and how is it 
 you make your money so aisy V 
 
 ' ' By making ould things as good as now,' says 
 Saint Kavin. 
 
 ' ' Blur-and-onns, is it a tinker your are V says the 
 king. 
 
 ''No,' says the saint; 'I'm no tinker by thrade. 
 King O'Toole. 'I've a betther thrado than a tinker,' 
 says ho, " what would you say,' says he, ' if I made 
 your old goose as good as new.' 
 
 ' My dear, at the word o' makin' his gooso as good 
 as new, you'd think the poor ould king's eyes was 
 ready to jump out of his bead, and says he — 
 
 , Troth, ilii n, I'd give you more money nor you 
 could, count,' says he, if you did the like; and I'd 
 be beholden to you into tho bargain.' 
 
 ' ' I scorn your dirty money,' says Saint Kavin. 
 " Faith then, I'm thinkiii' a tlnifle o' change would 
 do you no harm,' says the king, looking up sly at the 
 oulil caubeen that St. Kavin had an him. 
 
 ' I have made a vow agin i c,' says the Saint ; 'and I 
 am book sworn,' says he, ' never to have goold, silver, 
 or hruss in my company.' 
 
 ' Barrin' the ihriHe you can't help,' says the king, 
 miglity cute, and looing him straight in the face. 
 
 ' You just hit it,' says Saint Kavin ; ' Imt though I 
 can't toko money,' says he, ' I could take a few acres 
 o' land, if you'd give them to me." 
 
 ' With all tho veins o' my heart,' says the king, ' it 
 you will do what you say.' 
 
 ' Thry me I' says Saint Kavin. ' Call down your 
 gooso here,' says he, ' and I'll see what I can do for 
 her.' 
 
 ' With that, the king whistled, and down came the poor 
 goose, all as one as a tiouud, waddliu' up to the jiuor ould 
 cripple, her niutiit!!-, ami us iiku hiia us two paj/s. The min- 
 ute the saint clajiijcd his IMS on the goose, ' I'll do the job 
 for you,' says lu-, ' Kiti^M t'lnnlel' 
 
 'By Juminee,' isilys Km- ( I' I'.iole, ' if you do, but I'll say 
 you']'e tlie cleverebt lelluw in the sivin parishes.' 
 
 ' Uh, by dad,' says Saint Jiavin, ' you must say more nor 
 that— my horn's not so soft all out,' says he, 'astorcpuir 
 your ould goose Ibrnothin'; what'll you gi' me if I do the 
 job for you.' — that's the chat,' says .Saint Ivavin. 
 
 ' I'll give you whatever you a.\,' says the king, 'isn't that 
 fair?' 
 
 ' Divil a fairer,' says the saint: ' that's the way to do busi- 
 ness. Now,' says he, ' this the bargain I'll make with you. 
 King O'Toole; will you give me all the ground the goose 
 flies over, the iirst offer atther I make her as good as new?' 
 ' I will,' says the king. 
 
 ' You won't go back o' your word,' says Saint Kavin. 
 'Honor bright!' says King O'Toole, howldin' out his 
 fist. 
 
 ' Honor bright!' says Saint Kavin, back agin, ' it's a bar- 
 gin,' says he. ' Come here!' says he to the poor old goose — 
 ' come here you unfortunate ould cripple,' says he, ' and it's 
 /that'll make you the sportiu' bird.' 
 
 ' With that, my dear, be tuk up the goose by the two 
 wings — ' criss o' my crass an you,' says he, markiu' her to 
 grace with the blessed sign at the same minute — and throw- 
 ni' her up in tlie air, ' "Whew !' says Jie, jist gi\'in' her a blast 
 to help her; and witli that, my jewel, she tuk to lier heels, 
 flyiu' like one o' the iiigles them.selves, and cuttiu' as many 
 capers as a swallow belore a shower o' rain. Away she wint 
 down there, right forninst you, along the side o' the clift, 
 and flew over St. Ravin's bed, (that is where St. Kaviu's 
 bed is 7ww^ but was not t/iin^ by raison it wasn't made, but 
 wus conthrived afther by Sanit'Kavin himself, that the wo- 
 men might Javc him alone,) and on with her undher Lug- 
 duif, untl round the ind av the lake there, far beyant where 
 you see tlie watlieifull, (though indeed it's no watlierfliU at 
 all now, but only a poor dhnbble iv a thing; but if you. 
 seen it in the winther, it ud do your heaiigood, and it roar- 
 ing like mad, and as white as the dhriveu snow, aud rowlin' 
 down the big rocks before it, all as one as childher playing 
 marbles,) — and on with her thin riglit over the lead miues 
 o' Luganure, (that is where the lead mines is now, but was 
 not thiit, by raison they woru't discovered, hut was all goold 
 in Saint Kavin's time.) Well, over the iud 0' Luganure she 
 flew, stout and sturdy, and round the other ind av the little 
 lake, by the churches, that is, av coarse, where the cliurcbes 
 is now, but was not thin, by raison they wor not built, but 
 
 aftherwards by St. Kavin.) an ■ 
 
 your head, whereyou see the t' 
 mountain was made by Fan il/' 
 with a big swoord, that he got 
 smith out; o' K.athdrum, a cous, 
 jovaut (giant) that darr'd him 
 aiid he tliried the sword flrst 
 down into a gaji, as is plain 
 enough, it's the same sauce he 
 suddeut, aud choi)pcd him in 1 
 of his sowl aud ould Ireliiiid;) 
 cliCt, and flutthcriu' over tlio 
 (where I showed you the pnrtv 
 token, last Thursday, ^\ as a l 
 lady, Miss Kallerty by name, ii 
 
 dav, but lor 
 as'niartsli 
 street, I hi 
 
 i^h h: 
 
 Id dr. 
 
 fut 1 
 
 .J list 
 
 Ulihll sii;lil t 
 mouth Ol.en, lookili'al jus 
 I lark, and l:etllier nor .-hi- 
 fut, he patted her an tlie 
 he, ■ but you are the darliut o' 
 ' Aud what do }ou say to 
 nkiu' her the like?' 1 say, 
 lies the art o' man, barrin the 
 .irtliat?' savs St. J\avin. 
 lystl ■ 
 
 if- 
 
 file 1. 
 
 ■_' hill 
 
 ■■'■at ( 
 
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 her 
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 the 
 
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 r 1 
 
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 the w 
 
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 mc,' s 
 
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 int K 
 
 nil 
 
 , 'for 
 
 savs 
 
 tlioki 
 
 ig, • that 1 
 
 othin, 
 
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 ' Anddv'esi 
 
 vn 
 
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 And that I'm belli 
 
 till 
 (l-Toi.le 
 
 Mle 
 
 self at nil !' 
 arc not voursi 
 the sailil, hie 
 
 est of all 111! 
 
 prophet .lerei 
 
 'U'ell, inv 
 
 ound I 
 
 leie to i/irtf you Yoii don't 
 Hviu' you all out, I'm not my- 
 tlun,' says the king. 'if you 
 u ." ' I'm Saint Kavin.' said 
 ■ oh, queen iv heaven.' says 
 'line his eves, and liillili' down 
 •is it I he' great Saint Kavin,' 
 ....isin all this time, wilhout 
 
 thaCs the way that the place came all at 
 lis of .Saint Kavin, for the gooi-e Hewu 
 
 by St. 
 
 O'Toole 
 
 jiroperty, 
 iglity ctite ; 
 1 the king hail his goose as good' as new, and the saint 
 supporleil him, alllier he kem into his property, aiitil tl 
 day iv his death ; aud when he was gone. Saint Kiivin gave 
 hiiii an iliigant wake and abeautifur berriu': and more be- 
 token, he said mais/or liis soivl, an tuk cure of his goose.' 
 
IRISn MISCELLANY. 
 
 Coiilimifd firmn /xiije 3d. 
 Owen'B tfars fill sili'iitly (luwii liis woiii ilioiks. The 
 diildri n crowcl.il nlnmt lluin in loml wiiiliiigs, and 
 lilt j:rit f of lliis virtuous mid afflicled family was of 
 that profound d(.'.«rri|>i ion, wliicliis ever tliu coin punion 
 in mill sciueH, of pure and ginuinu lovo. 
 
 " Owen ! " sliu cxclttinicd — " Owen, a-suilish mii- 
 /iiiiViiyiis iiiiielirrr ! (light of my eyes and my hearl,) 1 
 doubt wc wor wionj; in thinkiu' of this journey. Jlow 
 can you nmvournecn, walk all the way to Dublin, and 
 vou so worn and weakly wid that siekncss, and the 
 bad feeiliu' both before and cinee ! Oih, j^iTe it up, 
 maehrec, and slay wid u- — let what will happen. 
 You're not able for sich a journey, indeed you're not. 
 Stay wid me and the ehildher, Owen ; sure we'd be 
 so lonesome widout you — will you agrah ! and the 
 Lord will do for us swrao other way maybe. " 
 
 Owen pressed his faithful wife to his heart, and 
 kissed her chaste lips with a tcnderne,«s which the 
 heariloss votaries of fashionable life can never know. 
 
 " Kathleen, iv-itliore, " he replied, in those terms 
 of endearment which flow so tenderly thron^;h the Ian 
 puage of the people — "sure, whin I remiral)er your 
 fair young face — your yellow hair, and the light that 
 was in your eyes, aeuslila machree — but tliat's gone 
 long ago — oeh, don't ax mo to stop. Isn't your light- 
 Eomc laugh long njo in my ears ? and your step that 
 'ud not bend the flower of the field — Kathleen, I can't 
 indeed, I can't bear to think of what you wor, nor of 
 what Tou are now, w hen, in the coorse of ago and 
 nathur, but a small change ought to be upon you ! 
 Sure 1 ought to make every struggle to take you and 
 these sorrowful crathurs out of the state you're in." 
 
 The children flocked about them, and joined their 
 entreaties to those of their mother. " Father, don't 
 lave us — w<'ll be lonesome if you go ; and if my mo- 
 ther 'ud get unwell, who'd be to take cure of her? 
 Father, don't lave your own weeny crntheis,' (a pet 
 name he had for them, — maybe the meal 'ud be eat 
 out before you'd come back ; or maybe something 'ud 
 happen you in that strange place. " 
 
 '• Indeed there's truth in what they say, Owen, " 
 said the wife ; " do be said by your own Kathleen for 
 this time, and don't take sich a long jonrney upon you. 
 Afther all, maybe, you would'ntsee hi-n — sure the na- 
 bors will help us, it you could only humble yourself 
 to ax them ! " 
 
 " Kathleen, " said Owen, " when this is past, you'll 
 bo glad I went — ind 'cd you will ; sure its only the 
 tindhcr feelin' of your hearts, dai lins. Who knows 
 what the landlord may do when I see himself, and 
 show him these resales — every penny paid him by our 
 own family. Let me go a-cushla ; it rfocs cut me to 
 the heart to lave yees the way yecs are in, even for a 
 while ; but it's far worse to see your poor wasted faces, 
 widout bavin it in my power to do any thing for yecs." 
 
 He then kissed them agin, one by one ; and pressing 
 tlie alTectionate partner of his sorrows to his breaking 
 heart, he bade God bless them, and set out in the 
 twilight of a bitter March morning. He had not gone 
 many yards from the door when little Alley ran after 
 him in tears ; he felt her hand upon the skirt of his 
 coat, which she pirn kcd with a smile, of aflx'ction that 
 neither tears nor sorrow could redress. " Fathir kiss 
 me ag.>in, " said she. He stooped down and kissed 
 her tenderly. The child then ascended a green ditcli 
 and Owen, as he lookid back, saw her standing 
 npon it ; h- r fair tresses were tossed by the blast 
 about her tace, as with straining eyes she watched him 
 receding from her view. Kathleen and the other 
 children .stood at the door, and also with deep sorrow 
 watched hij form, until the angle of the bridle road 
 rendered him no longer visible; after which they re- 
 turned slowly to the tire and wept bitterly. 
 
 We believe no men are capable of bearing greater 
 toil or privation than the Irish. Owen's viaticum was 
 only two or three oaten cakes tied in a little handker- 
 chief, and a few shillings to pay for his bed. with 
 this small stock of food and money, an oaken stick in 
 his hand, and his wife's kerchief tied about his waist, 
 he undertook a journey of one hundred and eighty 
 
 niilu.4 in (|ucst of a landlord who, so far from being I 
 acquainted wiih the distresses of his tenantry, scarcely 
 knew even their names, and not one of them in person. 
 Our scene now changes to the metropolis. One 
 evening, about half past six o'clock, a toil-worn man 
 luriicd his steps to a splendid mansion in Mountjoy- 
 sipiare ; his appearance wils drooping, fatigued, and 
 
 ble. As he went bIoul; he examined the numliers 
 on the respective doors, iinlil ho reached one — before 
 which he stopped for a moment ; he then Mcppcd out 
 upon the street, and looked through the windows, as 
 if willing to ascertain whether ilicrc was any chi.nce of 
 his object being attained. Whilst in this situation a 
 carriage rolled up, and stopped with a sudden cheek 
 that nearly threw the horses on their haunches. In 
 an instant the thundering knock of the servant intima- 
 ted the arrival of some person of rank ; the hall door 
 was opened, and Owen, availing himself of that oppor- 
 tunity, entered the hall. Such a visitor, however, was 
 too reinnrkablc to escape notice. The hand of the 
 menial was ruilcly placed against his breast ; and as 
 the usual impertinent interrogatories were put to him, 
 the pampered ruflian kept pushing him back, until the 
 aftlicted man stood upon the upper steji leading to the 
 door. 
 
 " For the sake of God, let me speak hut two words 
 to him. I'm his tenant ; and I know he's too much of 
 a jiiitleman to turn away a man that lias lived upon 
 his honor's estate — father and son — for upwards of a 
 hundred years. My name's Owen — " 
 
 " You can't see him, my good fellow, at this hour. 
 
 Go to Mr. M , his agent : we have company to 
 
 dinner. Go — you're very teasing, man — get along !" 
 
 As he uttered the last word, he pushed Owen back, 
 who, forgetting that the stairs were behind him, fell, 
 received a severe cut, and was so completely stunned, 
 that he lay senseless and bleeding. Another carriage 
 drove up as the fellow, now much alarmed, attempted 
 to raise him up ; and, by the orders of the gentleman 
 who came in it, he was brought into the hall. The 
 circumstances now made some noise. It was whisper- 
 ed about, that one of Mr. 's tenants, a drunken 
 
 man from the country, wanted to break in forcilily to 
 see him ; but then it was also asserted, that his skuH 
 was broken, and that he lay dead in the hull. The 
 company above stairs immediately assembled about 
 him, and by the means of restoratives, he soon recov- 
 ed though the blood streamed copiously from the 
 wound in the back of his head. 
 
 1 ^\ ho are you, my good man ? " said Mr. S. 
 
 Owen looked about him rather vacantly, but he 
 soon collected himself, and replied, in a mournful and 
 touching tone of voice— 7" I am one of your lionor's 
 tenants, Sir, from Tublicr Dcrge ; my name is Owen 
 M'Carthy, your honor — that is, if you be Mr. ." 
 
 " And pray what brought you to town, M'Carthy?" 
 
 " I wanted to make an humble appeal to your hon- 
 or's feelings in regard of my bit of farm. I and my 
 poor family, your honor, have been broken down by 
 the hard times and the sickness of the saton — God 
 knows how tluij are." 
 
 " Is it that you wish to speak to me about it ? but, 
 my good man, I refer all these matters to my agent — 
 go to him ; he, of course, knows them best ; and what- 
 ever is right and proper to be done for you, Carty, he 
 will do it. Sinclair, give him a crown, and send him 
 to the — : — Dispensary to get his head dressed. I 
 say, Carty, go to my agent ; he knows whether your 
 claim is just or not, and will attend to it accord- 
 ingly." 
 
 " Plase your honor, I've been wid him, and he says 
 he can do noiliin' wliaisomever for nie. I went two 
 or three times, and couldn't sec him, he was so busy ; 
 and when I did get a word or two wid him, he tould me 
 there was more offered for my land than I'm payin' ; 
 an.I that, if I did not pay up, I must be put out — God 
 help me ! " 
 
 "But I tell you, Carty, I never interfere between 
 him and my tenants." 
 
 " Och, indeed, and it would be well both for your 
 honor's tenants and yourself, if yon did, Sir. Your 
 honor ought to know, Sir, more about us, and how 
 
 we're thratcd. I'm an honest man. Sir, and I tell you 
 so for your good." 
 
 " And pray. Sir," said the agent, stepping forward, 
 for he had arrived a few minutes before, ai.d heard tho 
 last observation of M'Carthy — " jiray, how are they 
 treated, you that know so well, and are so honest a 
 man ? — as for honesty, you might have referred to mo 
 for that, I think, " he added. 
 
 " Mr. M ," said Owen, "we're ihrated very bad- 
 ly — Sir, you need'nt look at — you've broken the half 
 of them by severity : you've turned the tinants against 
 yci>elf and his honor here ; and I tell you now, though 
 you're to the fore, that in the coorse of a short time, 
 thero'ill be bad work upon the estate, except his hon- 
 or here looks to his own airairs, and hears the com- 
 plaints of the people ; loek at these resates, ycr honor, 
 they'll show you. Sir ." 
 
 " Carty, I can hear no such language against the 
 gentleman to whom I entrust the management of my 
 property ; of course I refer the matter solely to him — 
 I can do nothing in it." 
 
 " Kathleen, avonrncen ! " exclaimed tho poor man, 
 as he looked up despairingly to lieavm — 'and ye, 
 poor darlins of my heart ! is this the news I'm to have 
 for yees whin I go home ? As you hojie for mercy, 
 Sir, don't turn your tar from ray petition, that I'd 
 humbly make to yuurself. Cowld, and hunger, and 
 hardship are at home before me, yer honor. If you'd 
 be plased to look at these resales, you'd see ihat 
 I was always industrious, and 'twas sickness and tho 
 hard times " 
 
 "And your own hones'y, industry, and good con- 
 duct," said the agent, giving a dark and malignant 
 sneer at him, " Carty, it shall be my business to see 
 that you shall not s]iread a bad sjiirit through the ten- 
 antry much longer. Sir, you have heard the fellow's 
 admission. It is an implied threat that he will give 
 us much serious trouble. There is not such anollier 
 incendiary on your property — not one, upon my ho- 
 nor." 
 
 " Sir," said a .servant, " dinner's on the table." 
 
 " Sinclair," said his landlord, " give him another 
 crown, and tell him to trouble me no more." Saying 
 which he and the agent went up to the drawing-room, 
 and, in a moment, Owen saw a large party sweep down 
 stairs, full of glee and vivacity, among whom both 
 himself and his distresses were as completely forgotten 
 as if they had never existed. 
 
 He now slowly depariid, scarcely knowing whether 
 the money, which the house steward had given him, 
 was in his hand or not. A cold, sorrowful weight lay 
 upon his heart; the din of the town deadened his af- 
 fiiclion into a stupor; but an overwiielniing sense of his 
 disappointment, and a conviction of tlie agent's dia- 
 liolical falsehood, entered, like barbed arrows, into 
 his heart. 
 
 On leaving the steps, he looked up to heaven in the 
 distraction of his agonizing thoughts : the clouds were 
 black and lowering ; the wind stormy, and as it cairi- 
 ed iliem on iis dark wing ahing the sky, he wished, if 
 it were the will of God, that his head lay in the cpiiet 
 grave yard where the ashes of his forefathers reposed 
 in peace. But he again remembered his Kathleen and 
 iheir children, and the large tears of anguish, deep and 
 bitter, rolled slowly down his checks. 
 
 Wc will not trace him into an hospital, whither the 
 wound on his head occasioned him to be sent, but sim- 
 ply state, that, on ihe week after this, a man with his 
 head bound in a hankerchief, lame, bent, and evident- 
 ly laboring under severe illness or great allliction, 
 might be seen toiling slowly up the little hill that com- 
 manded a view of Tubber Derg. On reaching tho 
 top, he sat dow n to rest for a few minutes, but his eye 
 was eagerly turned to the house which contained all 
 that was dear to him on this earth. The sun was 
 setting, and shone with half his disk visible, in that 
 dim and cheerless splendor which produces in almost 
 every temperament a feeling of melancholy. His 
 house which, in far happier days, formed so beautiful 
 and conspicuous an object in tha view, was now, from 
 the darkness of its walls, scarcely discernible. The 
 position of the sun, too, rendered it more diflicult to 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 lie seen, and Owen, for it was ho, shaded liis eyes with 
 his hand to survey it more distinctly. Many a har- 
 rowing thouglit and renienibernnee passed tliroiigh liis 
 mind, as his eye traced its dim ontlinc in the fading 
 light. He had done his duty — ho had gone to the 
 fountain-head, with a hope that his simple story of af- 
 fliction might be heard ; but all was fruitless : the on- 
 ly gleam of hope that opened upon their misery, was 
 now passed into darkness and despair for ever. lie 
 pressed his aching forehead with distraction as ho 
 thought of this — then clasped his hands bitterly, and 
 groaned aloud. 
 
 At length he rose, and proceeded with great diffi- 
 culty, for the short rest had stilTened his weak and fa- 
 tigue joints. As he approached home his heart sank ; 
 and as he ascended the blood-red stream which cover 
 cd the bridle way that led to his house, what with fa- 
 tigued and affliction, his agitation weakened him so 
 much that ho stoppid and leaned on his staff several 
 times, that he might take breath. 
 
 "It's too dark, maybe, for them to see me, or poor 
 Kathleen would send the darlins to give me the she 
 dha velia. ( The welcome. ) Kathleen, avourneen, 
 maeliree, how my heart beats wid long to see you, as- 
 thore, and to see the weeny crathurs — glory be to 
 Him that has left them to me — praise and glory to 
 His n.ame ! " 
 
 He was now within a few perches of the door ; but a 
 sudden misgiving shot across his' heart when he saw it 
 shut, and no appearance of smoke from the chimney, 
 nor of stir of life about the house. He advanced — 
 
 " Mother of glory, what's this ! — but, wait, let me 
 rap again. Kathleen — Kathleen — are you widin' 
 avourneen ? Owen — Alley — arn't yccs widin, child 
 her? Alley, sure I'm come back to yees ! " and 
 he rapped more loudly than before. A dark breeze 
 swept through the bushes as he spoke, but no 
 voice nor sound proceeded from the house — all was 
 still as death within. " Alley ! " he called once more 
 to his little favorite — "I'm come home wid something 
 for you, asthore ; I did'nt forget you, alannah — I 
 brought it from Dublin all the way — Alley!" but the 
 chill murmur of the blast was the only reply. 
 
 Perhaps the most intense of all that he knew as mis- 
 ery is that which he then felt; but this state of sus- 
 pense was soon terminated by the appearance of a 
 neighbor who was passing. 
 
 " Why, thin, Owen, but j-er welcome home agin, 
 my poor fellow; and I'm sorry that 1 havu't betthcr 
 news for you, and so are all of us." 
 
 lie whom he addressed had almost lost the power 
 of speech:— 
 
 " Frank," said he, and he wrnng his hand, " What 
 — whati was death among them ? for the sake of hea- 
 ven spake?" 
 
 The severe pressure which he received in return ran 
 like a shock of paralysis to his heart. " Owen, you 
 must be a man ; every one pities yees, and may the 
 Almighty pity and support jees ! She is, indeed, 
 Owen, gone — the weeny fair haired child, your favor- 
 ite. Alley, is gone. Yesterday she was berrid ; and 
 dacently the ntibors attindid the place, and sent in, as 
 far as they had it, both mate and drink to Kathleen 
 and the other ones. Now, Owen, you have heard it ; 
 trust in God, and be a man." 
 
 A deep and c<mvulsivc throe shook him to the heart. 
 "Gone! — the fair-haired one! — Alley! — Alley! — the 
 ])ride of both our hearts — the sweet, the quiet and the 
 sorrowful child, that seldom played wid the rest but 
 played wid mys — ! Oh, my darlin', my darlin' ! — 
 gone from my eyes for ever! God of Glory! won't 
 you su|)port me this night of sorrow and misery ! " 
 But with a sudden yet profound sense of humility, he 
 dropped on his knees at the threshold, and as the tears 
 rolled down his convulsed checks, exclaimed, in a 
 burst of sublime piety, not at all uncommon amcing 
 our peasantry — " I thank tliee, my God — I thank 
 thee, and I put myself and my weeny ones, my pas- 
 chee hnyhi, into your hands. I thank thee, O God, for 
 ■what lias happened. Keep mo up, and support me — 
 och, I want it. You loved the weeny one, and you 
 took her ; she was the light of my eyes and the pulse 
 
 of my broken heart ; but you took her, blessed Father 
 of heaven I and wo can't.bo angry wid you for so do- 
 in'. Still if you had spared her — if — if^ — oh, blessed 
 Father, my heart was in the very one you took — but I 
 thank thee, O God ! May she rest in pace, now and 
 for ever, Amen ! " 
 
 He then rose up, and slowly wiping the tears from 
 his eyes, departed. 
 
 "Let mc hould your arm, Frank, dear." said he. 
 " I'm weak and tiicd wid a long journey. Och, and 
 can it be that she's gone — the fair haired colleen ! 
 When I was laving home, and had kissed them all — 
 'twas the first time we ever parted, Kathleen and I, 
 since our marriage — the blessed child came over and 
 held up her mouth, sayin;,'Kiss me again, father,' and 
 this was afther herself and all of them had kissed me 
 afore ; but och ! oh ! Blessed Mother, Frank, whare's 
 ray Kathleen and the rest? — .and why are they out of 
 their own poor place ? " 
 
 " Owen, I tould you a while agono; that you must 
 be a man. I gave you the worst news first, and what,s 
 to come doesn't signify mueh. It was too dear; for if 
 any man could live upon it you could — you have neith- 
 er house nor home, Owen, nor land. An ordhercame 
 from the agint — your last cow was taken, so 'twas all 
 you had in the world — Iiem — barrin' a trifle — no, bad 
 manners to it — no, you're not widout a home, any way 
 — the fivmily's in my barn, brave and comfortablecom- 
 pared to what your own house was, that let in the 
 wather through the rofi' like a sieve ; and while tlie 
 same barn's to the fore, never say you want a home." 
 
 " God bless you, Frank, for that goodness to them 
 and me. If you're not rewarded for it hero, you will in 
 a better place. Och, I long to see Kathleen and the 
 childher! but I'm fairly broken down, Frank, and 
 Ijardly able to mark the ground, and, indeed, no wond- 
 her, if you knew but all, but God's will bo done! 
 Poor Kathleen, I must bear up before her or she'll 
 break her heart, for I know how she loved the goolden- 
 haired darlin' that's gone from us. Och, and how did 
 she go, Frank, for I Itf: her betther ? 
 
 " Why, the poor girsha took a rel.apse, and wasn't 
 strong enough to bear up aginst the last attack; but 
 it's one comfort that you know she's happy." 
 
 Owen sood for a moment, and looking solemnly in 
 his neighbor's face, exclaimed, in a deep and exhaust: 
 ed voice — "Frank ! " 
 
 " What are you goin' to say, Owen ? " 
 
 " The heart widin mo's broke — broke ! " 
 The large tears rolled down his weather-beaten 
 cheeks, and he proceeded in silence to tiie house of his 
 friend. There was, however, a feeling of sorrow in his 
 words and manner which the other could not withstand. 
 He grasped Owen's hand, and, in a low and broken 
 voice, simply said — "Keep your spirits up — keep them 
 up." 
 
 When they came to the bam in which his hapless 
 family had taken up their temporary residence, Owen 
 stood for a moment to collect himself, hut he was ner- 
 vous, and trembled with repressed emotion. They 
 then entered ; and Kathleen, on seeing her beloved and 
 alTectionate husband, threw herself on his bosom, and 
 for some time felt neither joy nor sorrow — she had 
 swooned. The poor man kissed her lips with a ten- 
 derness at once mournful .and deep. The children, on 
 seeing their father safely returned, forgot their recent 
 grief, and clung about him with gladness and delight. 
 In the mean time Kathleen recovered, and Owen for 
 for many minutes could not check the loud and clam- 
 orous grief — now revived by the presence of her hus- 
 band — with which the heartbroken and emaciated 
 mother dcjilored her departed child ; and Owen him- 
 self on once more looking among the little ones — on 
 seeing her little frock hanging up, and her stool va- 
 cant by the fire — on missing her voice and her blue 
 laughing eyes, and remembering the afl'ectionatc man- 
 ner in which, as with a presentiment of death, she held 
 up her little mouth and offered him the last kiss — ho 
 slowly pulled the toys and cakes he had purchased for 
 her out of his pocket, surveyed them for a moment, 
 and then putting his hands on his face, bent his head 
 
 upon his bosom, and wept with the vehement outpour- 
 ing of a father's sorrow. 
 
 Owen, for another year, struggled on with his fam- 
 ily, witliout success; his firm spirit was broken; em- 
 ployment he could not get, and oven had it been Teg- 
 ular, he would have found it impracticable to support 
 his helpless wife and children by his labor. The next 
 year unhapily was also one of sickness and of want; 
 the country was not only a wide waste of poverty, but 
 overspread with typhus fever. One Saturday night ho 
 and the family found themselves without food; they 
 liad not tasted a morsel for twenty-four hours. There 
 were murmurings and tears, and finally a low conver- 
 sation among them, as if they had a conference upon 
 some sulijcct which filled them with both grief and 
 satisfaction.^ In this alternation of feeling did they 
 pass the time until the sharp gnawing of hunger was 
 relieved by sleep. A keen December wind blew with 
 a bitter blast on the following morning; the rain was 
 borne along upon it with violence, and cold was chill 
 and piercing. Owen, his wife, and their six children 
 issued at daybreak out of the barn in which, ever since 
 their removal from Tubber Derge, they had lived ; 
 their miserable fragments of bed clothes were tied 
 about them ; their pace was slow, need we say sorrow- 
 ful ; all were in tears. Owen and Kathleen went first, 
 with the child upon the back and another in the hand 
 of each. Their route lay by their former dwelling, the 
 door of which was oyen, for it had not been inhabited. 
 On passing it they stood a moment ; then with a sim- 
 ultaneous impulse both approached — entered — and 
 took one last look of a spot to which their hearts clung 
 with enduring attachment. They then returned ; and 
 as they passed, Owen put forth his hand, and picking 
 a few small pebbles out of the wall, put them in his 
 pocket. 
 
 " Farewell ! " said he, " and may the blessing of God 
 rest upon you ! We now lave you for ever — we're 
 goin' at last to beg our bread through the world wide, 
 where none will know of the happy days we passed 
 widin' your wtiUs ! Wcmusi lave you; but glory be to 
 the Almighty, we sre goin' wid a clear conscience ; we 
 took no revenge upon ourselves, there's neither blood, 
 nor murder, nor dishonesty upon our hands. Don't 
 cry, Kathleen — don't cry, childher ; there is still a good 
 God above, who can and may do something for us 
 yet, glory be to his name ! " 
 
 He then passed on with his family, which, includ- 
 ing himself, made, in all, eight- paupers, being an ad- 
 ditional burden upon the country, which might easily 
 have been avoided. His land was above two years 
 waste, and when it was ultimately taken, the house 
 was a ruin ; and the money allowed by the landlord 
 for building a new one, together with the loss of two 
 j'cars rent, would, if humanely directed, have enabled 
 Owen M'Carthy to remain a solvent tenant. 
 
 MOKAL MAXIMS. 
 
 Some men dig their graves as effectually with their 
 tongues as others do with their teeth ; for when that 
 little member scatters its squibs among others, they 
 commonly recoil and scorch the author also. Some 
 men cannot speak but they must bite ; they had rather 
 lose a friend than their quibble. But such scoft'ers 
 would do well to remember Castillo's caveat — " Play 
 with me, but hurt mc not ; jest with me, but shame 
 me not : for snarling curs seldom go without bitten 
 cars. 
 
 Plutarch compares envious persons to cupping 
 glasses, which ever draw the worst humors after them ; 
 they are like flies which resort only to the raw and cor- 
 rupt parts of the body ; or if they light on a sound 
 part,nevcr leave blowing upon it till they have disposed 
 it to putrefaction. 
 
 Jealousy may bo compared to a poisoned arrow, so 
 envenomed, that if it even prick the skin it is very dan- 
 gerous, but if it draw blood, it is irrecoverably deadly. 
 
 Men that live always to themselves, had need to 
 have a w'ell-timbered bottom, for if once their selfish 
 bark prove leaky they will find few to stop the breaches. 
 
IIJISIl MISfELLAXV. 
 
 fC*i>, the rir>t of that namrr, wa< invcutcj with the pull 
 hy Canlinal I'.iparo, ihv Wifite uf l'o\ie Ku'^vnii III 
 Jn tlie Z'Jth jear of the reipi of llciirjr VHI, the mx 
 wu raluol at XOtj.l.'i.-l Iri^ih, or ahxiit £'>>) »li:r\\n'^. 
 7'h« di<>c«>c •oiitain* <(X> parmhvi, U divii] ;ij into 44 
 UrncficKd mii'l 12 rarul iliancrieti ; it U tonfintd, with 
 ih': excepiiofi of two pariihcH, to tliv couuty 'iip- 
 pernry. 
 
 Thi; prop'jriion of Koman Calholifs to I*rolc«tant», 
 i« an lift U> I , y<-t tli(: \it>>f<:*%i)rt of tlii; for(n<T faith arc 
 enormously taxi il to «U(/[Mjrt an iintncn>>v kUiIT of iJi({- 
 nitjuiu hdon^ln^ to ihu lattvr ilL-iiomination ( whl<;li 
 in till* ilirxx-x-, n» in otbero in Ireland, lw> more par 
 
 fi>ur Iriah ar<,-hhi»hopii, tlie Arilihinhop of Caehel ranlu 
 third. 
 
 Caiheil in a very anr-ient citjr, the neat of the nee, 
 •iiuaU'd in the pari<li of .St. I'ulriek's ICo<'k,andharon/ 
 of Middlethird, and ii alx)Ut U inilea di«tant froio 
 Clonmel. 
 
 The )>oundarie« of the ohi l>orou;;h, include the 
 whole of the ancient wiilM town, extending; near three 
 mlle» on the road to Cahicr and Clonni<-l,and conuiinii 
 .'i'Jll^ »Utui: a'-rei. IJy a moiJern a<t of the Englinh 
 parliament, ihelimitx of ihe lM>rou|;li have l>een ivjme- 
 whju enlarged, and the total area now coniaina ■3'J74 
 ■tatuU; mint. The [Kipulation in 1841 Wii» 7039, hut 
 famini^, petiilenix and extermination have prohaldj- n- 
 daced it* population helow that numlier, 
 
 Tlie town, wlii> h in mu'h decayed, i« chiefly hailt 
 round the touihcm and eautem siden of an ionulated 
 maM of limetUiDO, called the Bock of Cajhcll. Tht« 
 ro'k riae* abruptly in tlie midnt of a rich plain, close 
 hy the ' iiy, which it overlonk^, and commuiidi an ix- 
 
 "CASUELL OF TilJi KINGS." 
 
 c A B B E L L. I try. On its summit stood the pala/a; of tlie ancient '""7. *•'<> >' "apposed to have built the very rcraarka- 
 
 With the uauilance of our artuiti!, we liarc transfer- k'ngs of Munster, and Sir Jarnes Ware, who die<J, we '''* "tone roofed ch:iix;l,al)Ove referred to, on the sumioit 
 ed to our pa^jCT the alxjve beautiful and oorrect view of •'e'ieve, in ICCG, informii lui, tliat he ha* here eeen the of t^'e roek. To himalso, it is said, we are indebted 
 Ihe ancient city of Ca*h':ll from the north, which we i*"'"* O" '^''''h thow; potentate's w.;re inau;;nrate<I and Tor the building of the adjoining round tower. Thia 
 have copied from liariUll't .'irnivy aruj Aiili'/iiiliej r</ where they received the tribute of thow; princes sub- however.is disputed by aouie writcrrt who contend tliat 
 Jrditii-l. Ca^hell is an arch I 'if^e^e, tt city and parlia- I '"■■''"'"« *" them. From lhi« l.-ittcr circumstance; >hecha[>et wat built by(.Wmac Mc Canhy.kint; of Mun- 
 meolary borough in the County Tipp<;rary, lao milc» i Cashell ha.'s derived itx name; mthiiA meaning '-the »ier and bishop of Caohell, in the eleventh century, 
 lotttb wot of Dublin, a few mileii ea<,t of (he river i """'•-■ of '"''Utc. Some authorib;.! allege that al(hou;.'h while of the round to*er otheri a«'M;rt that nothing 
 8oir, whieti (lowi Southward toward* Clonmel, and | '='"''«^ '«" pu": Celtic word, yet it's eigi.ification is definite or probalde in known. It ii, however, clear ilmt 
 wai erected into an ar< libithop's »ee at a aynod held ]"''"''■■"■ with the Latin nulrUnm, and contend that it» ''Olhedili(y;< were built prior to the fouiidaiii>n of the 
 in Droghe^la, March, ll-'j^, w.'icre Uonatiut 0'f.aner- nam'; wai probably deri\cl from the cjwtle or dnn on cathedral, which w:n erected prior to the Knglieh in- 
 
 itSKummlt. An ancient roll ofiheiributi; payible here 'va«ion, about the latter end of the twdftii cen'ury, 
 i«, we lM;lievr-, «till preserved, and afford« a curious anri ! by Dona'd O'Brien king of Limerick, 
 inujresting cnumeraiion of the articles paid, probably j The calhtdral is eruci-fonn, tlie choir and southern 
 in lieu of rent, among which we lind arms, cloth- transept embracing Curmai:'« chufiel on two side*, 
 ing, provisions, live sio'-k, and slaves, boi'- male and ,tlie chapel Hanks the southern sideat the choir to which 
 female ; the latter being pnjbably Saxons, derived from it serves ai a ch;iptcr-hoii«;, aii'I which sbinds between 
 the Knglish market. On the summit of the roi'k may lit and the round tower on the northern side. Thcother 
 Ix: observed a series r,t' spleqdid ruins, consisting of 'buildings on the rock, arc a hall for the vicars choral, 
 Connac Mc. Cullinans cha{>cl, built in the ninth «n- built by Ar.hbi-hop y duird O'llcdiam in 1421. A 
 tury, a ronrnl tower Suit in circuinfjrcncc, and UOft in I wall, intended for defence, surrounds the platform on 
 height, of unknown daf, but sup,Hi«'d to lie the most I which the ruins stand and cornpletcs the )>ilc of build- 
 ancicnl building on the ro<-k ; a cathedral, castle and 1 ing, which is justly consiilend the finest of the kind ia 
 monastery, all built alxjjl the 12th c<.-niury, and pre- j Ireland. C<i>-m:ic's ch.ipd is the ino«t p.-rfect ep»ci- 
 %>ia\ than pe/iple, ) though loo \nt'tx U> provide suHi- i senting su'h a variety ol eiclesiastical architcciure ax men of the kinil in ill ,• I'riii>h isl mds and gives a con- 
 hurch accoriiiiiixidiion for themselves. Of the to remler them the most n-markable and interesting jvincing prf»of, not only of the existence, but of the ex- 
 ruins in Ireland, an iiii'.'re«t not a lillle incrcaacd by icellence, ol works of stone and lime in Ireland Ijcfore 
 their lingular and conapicuoui ;>ositiun. jthe Knglish invasion. 
 
 On the inlroduciioo of Chriii idnity into Ireland in I Donaiius O'Lanergan.thc first bishop of Caahell wlio 
 the fifih century, the apostle of Ireland here baptined ireceivcl the archiepi*o>i):il pall was succeed'^1 in tJio 
 yKngU", son of the kin^' of Caithi.'ll, who l<eeiime the [sec by Oonald O'Hullican, in who«.- time, (1172, in 
 first Christian king of the province. Ii i» related of Itlic reign of Henry II,) the great synol was held here. 
 St. I'atrick. lliut having fin-shed hi< initsicn at Ossory, This synod, it is allegwl. rc«-ogniz^«l the auitiority of 
 aliout the year 445. lie proceeded without delay to Cash- ithc Rnglish king, and the ecclesiastical superiority of 
 ell, where the kings of the province usually resided, the English church. This ii, however, di4pute<l by 
 On approaching tJie city, the historian informs U', that ecclesiastical historians, who contend that its decrees 
 tlie king came t<i greet him, and having given him a were treatol by the church in Ireland as a nullity, and 
 welcome salutation conducted the saint to his court, i produced as little effect as ifitha'l never l>uen con- 
 On one occasion as the saint wuj) imparting his blessing | vokol. Certain it is, that the I'rimate Gclasius and 
 to ^.ngus, who approach'.-d too closely to him in his ' his suffragans did not attend the synoil, and there is lit- 
 desirc to obtain such a favor, he a/-cidently pierced the itle doubt the whole afTnir was a crafty effort on the 
 foot of the king witli his staff. When St. I'atrick in- part of Henry, the murderer of St. Thomas a'Beckct, 
 'juired why he hail not made it known, he repliol that he to gain over the Iri<h prelates in support of the Bull 
 sup[K>sed it was part of the ceremony ani| accordingly whicli he had received from his countryman, I'ope 
 t)ore it with patience. From him descended Cormac, Adrian the IV., to conquer and subdue the " lartjaT- 
 son of fMillenan, who became king of Munster and «ia" Irish. 
 
 ten>ivv and tnagoiflcieoC view of the surrounding coun- biihop of Ciuhell about the begioning of the tenth ccn- 
 
 ( Concluded on page llt/t.) 
 
IRISn MISCELLANY. 
 
 IRISH MiSCELLAMY. 
 
 . ^^ ., 
 
 BOSTON, SATUUDAY, FEBRUARY 13, 1858. 
 
 O U K F I It S T .\ C M K K H . 
 
 Thl» day wc prewiit to our rcailcri) the flr«t number of our 
 IiiiHii MincKLLANV, uiiil ufk for It» lrn|KTfectioD« and 
 nhort-coniiui;'', llieir kind cuiii-idirution. I'lie luljor und 
 dillicull)' of bringing out the lirkt number of a iieriodical, 
 are mucli grvater tlian perKOUH, not familiar ^A'itti it from 
 aclnal ex|K.-riencc cau realize. The dilllculliex we liavc met, 
 tlio' to a couiiiderablc extent Kurniounted.wltl we fear, leave 
 dcfectx too a|iparent to escape notice. However, wc Kliail 
 endeavor to nlmn tlie*e defectu in future, and now that wc 
 are in working order, liope to produce a »lieet wortliy of 
 the extcHKivc support of wliicli wc arc aKitured from all 
 quttrterH. 
 
 The objecbi we liavc In view arc forc-nlmdowcd in our 
 pro»|icclui(" ►odellnitcly.tliat we need not here rejicat them. 
 Kulllce it 10 nay .that our ambition in to produce a paper wliieli 
 ehull Lie tuk welcome ut tlic lire ride of our numerous friendx, 
 Bx one of the Kards of olden linieit in dayii of yore, and wc 
 ]ioi>e. on all oeeaMi'iom*, to be received witlitlie same friend- 
 ly salutation und welcome. 
 
 The rictorial lllurtrationn In our paper arc an entire new 
 feature in an Irlith |icriodical in tliiH country, which reijuirea 
 large weekly expenditure of njoney on our jrart. Tlii« can 
 only be nurtained by an extcnuive patronage from our fel- 
 low countrymen here. A« a hjiecimcn of what we »<cck to 
 accomplish in thin department of the Irish MhceUany, wc 
 point to the engraving* In thU number with much plcan- 
 ure. 
 
 It will be seen, that we have, in addition to what wc 
 promised in our '^prospectuK'' added to our paper a Musi- 
 cal Department, and give, with tills number, s song set to 
 music and arranged for the I'iano Forte, This of ils<;if, in 
 wortli one half of the years subscription to ourpiiblicatlon. 
 Then- is, unfortunately, among too many of '.ur country- 
 men in this land, a growing indllference to the line old airs 
 and beautiful music for which our native country has in all 
 ages, been distinguished. We have seen with feelings of 
 Hhume and Indignation sotigs called Irish, sung before au- 
 diences almost exclusively Celtic, which were vile carica- 
 tures of our country and our |K;ople, Wc sliali endeavor by 
 giving, from tlmetutlnic,thc music of our ancient songs and 
 l>allads, to cultivate a taste for our national airs, and thus 
 cherish a pious regard for those strains which stimulated 
 our sires to brave dec<ls In many a bloody Held, when con- 
 tending witli ttie common foe, or moved them to grief at 
 the recollection of tite ancient glory of their race,and often 
 in the mi'ist of sorrow and ojipresslon made tlicm exuber- 
 ant uilh Joy. 
 
 We seek also to cultivate a taste for our national litera- 
 ture among our young men, and desire to stimulate them 
 to lit(!rary efforts. For tills purpose our jiuges will be open 
 to well written, original essays, upon subjectit of general 
 interest, and res|KCtfuIly solicit the same. With these re- 
 marks we commend the ''Irlsli Miscellany " to the sujijiort 
 of tlie public, and ask for it a generous support. 
 
 ocu cnv (j<jvi;k.nme.nt. 
 
 Ik'form, like charity, should begin at lioine. It Is worse 
 than us<dess to s<itid missionaries to foreign lands to con- 
 Tcrt the I'agan and reform tlic wicked, while wc have so 
 many practical I'agans at our own doors, and t»} mucli 
 wickedness in our midst. It is of lillle an: to be |ier)i<'tual- 
 ly declaiming against the extravagance of our national 
 tfnd htate <joveriimeiit«, while we have so much which 
 needs reforming and retrenching in the governnwut of our 
 own city. 
 
 Some weeks ago a convention of citiuins was held In the 
 City Hall, for the purpose of nominating a City Ooveni- 
 ment coApf/MMl of good men of all iiarlles, that the best pos- 
 •Iblc government might be obtaiiK-d at the least jiossiblc 
 price. This convention soon displayed the cloven foot of 
 black republicanism, while the liorns and tail of know- 
 Dothinglsm (sMinewhat tiie worst for wear) wen; plainly vU- 
 ble tlirough the gauze gannents put on for the occasion. — 
 !U<:s|s'Ctable men of all |iarlies repudiated all conniction 
 Willi the beast, and fled from its sight. 'I'lie citizens appro- 
 Ted tlieir conduct— spumed tli« specioiu prctciuiuiu of 
 
 the creature, and elected a govcrnmcut composed of re- 
 spectable men of every political creed. 
 
 In thus acting, thir eiti'/etis ut large unmistakably pro- 
 nounced against the manner in which former city govern- 
 menls had conducted uflairs, liy infusing so mucli new, 
 mixed and heullliy blood into the veins oi the new system, 
 clearly indicallng their wish that wliat they had done with 
 the government, should be done to those holding place un- 
 der it; so that the reforms and retrcncliments so loudly 
 called for from the new organization, sliould not be tliwar- 
 leil by a lot of old ollicials who have every Interest in main- 
 taining our present corrupt und extiuvaguiit cxiicnditures 
 —none in reforming and rctrcncliing tliem. 
 
 We did, tliercforc, look for extensive changes among tlie 
 city ollicials, and hoped to see eligible and able men of 
 every jiarty elected to oHlce, tliat tliey might take care 
 i:acli other, and thus produce the best results lor the city 
 
 In this we. In common with a large majority of our citi- 
 zens, have been dlsajijiointed. The old syslem of extrava- 
 gance, corruption and fraud is to be carried on. (if wiiat 
 use is It for the citizens to make a new and improveil ma- 
 chine of government, if It Is to be managed and worked by 
 men opposed to it« success, wlio seek to render it Inojicr- 
 alive? 
 
 .Most of the old olIlcialB have been re-Installed In their old 
 jiositions with an Indecent haste, which clearly tcstilics to 
 the fear entertained of a strong cxifresslon of public opin- 
 ion upon the matter. Wliat have our (Ifmonntic represen- 
 tatives in tile city government done to carry out their 
 loud prelcnsions before election? They have button-holed 
 and wire-pulled witli tiic old system, and, some liavc en- 
 deavored to frown down tliose among tliem wlio had the 
 honesty to endeavor to carry out the views and expecta- 
 tions oftbcir constituents. The board of Aldermen, was, in 
 nuinl>ers, efjuaily divided. It became necessary to remove 
 one iicrson out of tiie way, so as to give to tlie corruptlon- 
 Ists a majority of votes, 'flic bait was thrown out — Mr. 
 liradford the democratic Aldermen of Ward 7, greedily 
 swallowed it — retired from tlic board — received ills reward, 
 by an ajijiointmcnt to a fat ollice, and left his iiutm^Iam as- 
 sociates to distribute the city olllces to whom tliey wished ! 
 He got his place and utiier democrats might, for all lie car- 
 ed, go to the devil'. 
 
 However, there Is at least one honest man on the board 
 of Aldermen, a staunch democrat, possessed ot common sense 
 and good business faculties. He has, by Integrity and indus- 
 try, become one of our most successful mercliant princes, 
 8o long as /i« Is on the board of aldermen he will keep a 
 keen eye upon the city treasury, and prevent, as far as lie 
 can, the abuses of which we complain The course pursued 
 by Alderman I'lercc entitles him to the gratitude of the 
 city, and he must be strongly sustained. 
 
 Ill the popular branch of the city government, we feel 
 more disappointment than wc do with tlie board of alder- 
 men. The only man who has had the moral courage to re- 
 mind the city council of tlie principles by which tlicy were 
 elected, and call upon tliem to realize the wishes of the city, 
 Is John C. Tucker. He stands, like a pillar of granite. It 
 may be, unpolished ; but strong and powerful In the trutli 
 which sustains liim Mr. Uradlec of Ward 7 seems to have 
 a particular desire to ciisliioiiMr.Tucker's remarks, and often 
 rises to order,but Is as often told by the president io- take 
 Ills seat and allow Mr. T. to proceed. We have seen profes- 
 sed democrats In the Council sneer at Mr. 'fucker, while ad- 
 dressing that body ; it would be well for them if they pos- 
 si.'ss4;d Ills manliness and integrity and were oi trut to 
 party and to principle. 
 
 Mr, Tucker is the first Irishman who has been elected 
 to tlie city council, and some of the knouj-nothing drrnncrats 
 evidently think he has no business in such an auifiat body ! 
 We trust be will jierscvere in this course s*/well began, des- 
 pite the vulgar, small-beer wit of Col. Tliomjison, or the 
 rude imfiertincnce of Mr. Hradlee, 
 
 'i'lic democrats demand a share of the public ofKces — the 
 citizens at large insist upon It, and weare suretlie man who 
 refuses to concede thisjustlce to them, will, at the cud of 
 the niunlcipal year, have iiermlsslon to yield his place to 
 one more deserving. 
 
 < o*^^ 
 
 AML'SKMEXrS. 
 
 TiiK Nat/omai- Theatke under the management ofMr. 
 W. iJ. >jiglisli, seems to be doing a good business, these 
 hard times; tlie houses during the past week have been well 
 attended and tlie reception of Mr. 31. W. Fleming, the late 
 manager, must have convinced blin of the resjicct entertain- 
 ed for him by bis fonner friends and patrons. 
 
 IJoHTOK TriKATiiK. 1'lic Itavcis are still starring it at 
 this iHipular establlshtncnt and their wonderful feats nights 
 ly call down the applause of crowded houses. 
 
 MoniiiH IliurriiKUH, I'ki.i,&Hui<t/,1!Y'«*Mi!(Rtiik».<). This 
 company of talented 3Iinstrels have secured the building 
 known as Horticultural Hall in Kchool street, which they 
 have lilted up at great exp4;nse and with considerable ar- 
 tistic skill, as an <>|iera House. Their burles/jue Kthio- 
 plaii melanges ought to be witnessed by i:vi;ry |K;rsoii troub- 
 led with dys|s'pia. or at all subject to tlie blues; for there Is 
 nothing like a good hearty laugh to drive away nielan- 
 clioly and ila coucommilaut cvila. Tlie uuaio of tli« Dcw 
 
 song given in this number of the MiictUanij, is by H, S. 
 Tliompson i;s(|, I he talented composer, connected with this 
 comiiany, .Siieli of our readers us wish to liiurlliut beiiulliui 
 ballad sung ill llie best style by Mr, 'I'lioinpsoii, will bo 
 glutilled by iitleudliig nt the (iperu House on Monday eve- 
 nliig the ir.lb, or any evening (luring that week, « Inn it 
 will be sung by the author asslsbd by the full company. 
 We intend being present wllli our rar;/» of contributors, 
 comiiowitors, &c, and bespeak for Mr. riioni])Bon a kind and 
 enthusiastic reception. Houblless all iloston will be pres- 
 ent on the auspicious occasion. 
 
 OiiDWAV llAi.i,. This old established and jiopular place 
 of amusement still conliiiues to Hourisii, and the crowds 
 nightly attending upon tlie feast of fun wliicli tbc great ca- 
 terer spreails before his patrons, sufliclenliy attest tlic excel- 
 lent (quality of the viands prepared for the reiiast. 
 
 " i'Oitl'ilCN INFLIIKNCE." 
 What have the Know Nothing incendiaries and assassins 
 to say about tlic kind of influence exercised over legislation 
 ill this country, by " foreign goveniments,"? as recently de- 
 veloped before af'ongressional committee, by one William- 
 son, who seems to have been flic Instruilieiit used by the 
 governmenls of France and Kngland In procuring the pas- 
 sage of an A merlcan tariff law favorable to the commercial 
 Interests of those countries? Hear what he says;— 
 
 Mr. Williamson claims to liavc been the secret commer- 
 cial agent for fills country, of the iiarings and other Kn- 
 glish and I'Vencli mercantile and manufacturing housea 
 from M4I toiSWI. Williamson Informed me, that If permit- 
 ted, be would liave testified that Kurojiean manufacturera 
 nnd the iiiilisli government liad authorized Hir Henry Itul- 
 weraiid others to expend two millions of dollars to effect 
 our tariff and to cstablisli a free trade policy. More than 
 seven hundred thousand dollars had actually been exjieii- 
 ded to buy the members of ('ongress or to defeat tlielrelec- 
 tion wlien tliey could not be bought. Wllllainson also In- 
 timated that he could dbclose conduct or disreputablo 
 transacllons of our own Covernment in connection with 
 tbc negotiations of the recent treaty with New Cranada. — 
 He particularly implicated Mr. Iluchanan and Mr. Cass. 
 
 It O O K 8 It K <; K I V K D . 
 
 From TfCKNOlt & VlV.LUti. Ji.i.UBTOATroNfl op Ckit- 
 ji;k, in some of lis relalions (o ciiKuie and society. Ily 
 Henry </iles, aiilhor of •' ijclures und i'jfsays," iIo»- 
 TON : Ticklior & Fields. WW, 
 
 [We shall take occasion at an early day to thoroughly re- 
 view tlibi work.] 
 
 From I'ATKICK liONAHOK. TiiK Black Haiiomkt; or 
 The Chronicles of liallytraln. Ily William Carleton. 
 
 Mr. Donahoe, wilh his laudable desire to meet the wishes 
 of the reading public, has Just Issued a splendid edition of 
 Carleton's great work, "The Dlack Itaroucl." Tlie name 
 of the author alone, is a synonime of excellence in the dc- 
 parlment of romance, wliicli Is a sufllclent recommeudalion 
 of the work; hut when we take into consideration the viv- 
 id portrayal of scenes and events — the close analysb of cliar- 
 aclcr in all its pliascs— running from the highest to tlie 
 loivest— from the peer to tlie peasant,— we feel constrained 
 to rank It among the most successful productions of mod- 
 ern fiction. Carleton Is the Dickens of Ireland, and Iho 
 lover of the works of " Iloz," will find something really 
 congenial in tlie book now before us. The object of the 
 work Is an exhibition of Hie three powerful passions of 
 love, ambition and revenge; and finely is tlie idea carried 
 out. The work, which is cmlielllslicd witli two line engra- 
 vings Is for sale at the low price of seventy-five U'uts, and 
 sliould be In the possession of all lovers of that laud whicii 
 Mooie has so beautifully classed as 
 
 " First flower of Hie earth 
 First gem of the sea," 
 
 To clubs of six llic book will be sent for M.fjO; and to 
 clubs of twelve for Wl.iJO; (the club so ordering, to pay tbu 
 exp<;iisc of transportation), wiilcli Is an Inducement not lu 
 be overlooked. 
 
 Coi,i/M»iAW AowiciATiow,— Mr. KIcholaa lican IcclHred 
 before this society, on Wednesday evening last, at their 
 rooms In Hanover street, on "Democracy." The lecturer 
 although a " foreigner," proved that he was iK^rfeclly fa- 
 miliar with tlie principles on wliich true domocracy are ba- 
 sed. As we go to press immeiliately after the lecture, wo 
 cannot give In this number the notice to wliich it is eiill- 
 tled, and which it so Justly niertts, but shall return to It 
 again. We arc glad to hear that this popular association la 
 in a Hourisliing condition. 
 
 Aw'/riiKitNKW 'I'KitiiiTOKV.—It Is pro|)os*;d to make an 
 effort for a 'Territorial organization of the upjier peninsula 
 of Micliigan, under the name of Kuiwrior or 3Iucklnaw. 
 The country embraces some sixteen thousand s'juare miles, 
 abounds in mineral resources, and lias an estimated popu- 
 lation often thousand At pres<<nt it Is a |iarl of the Klate 
 of Michigan, from the main portion of which, however, it 
 Is Mfparated by the slraitii of Mackinaw, and with which It 
 luu 110 cvumou lulcresta. 
 
10 
 
 IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 CO&£L£SPONP£NC£. 
 
 EJUor 9/tk* Iri$k ^fucfUamy :— 
 
 l>iLA.it Sir: lo tb« Bb»riice of dreadful ftCcidenU, local 
 maticn of tiitcrv»t, ur any iIl-iu worth rccordiug, may It 
 Dot U: prujirr tu iuijuin: u)iy C'uujfrcfis t««ni£ to liavc uuth- 
 lDj{ to du but iiuarrvl ubuut Kani«t(; for DOtUiiig is heard 
 bat Toptrko or I.ccuiuptou, lA-comptou or Xupcko, or their 
 CoiutitutioiJ*. 
 
 Every iudivtdual subject or citizen puiyiag taxoM^laiid hold- 
 iDf( their >«rrantd rtr.«poiiMble to ttieir coustitueutti, (>huuld 
 demand thai but^iue^ of more iroportaucv be attended lo, 
 and occupy the nation'i* time. 
 
 Ill Kau!«aA to abi^orb the le^Irilation of two or three ee»- 
 »ioD# of i.'on{;r«i«8 f If ok a Territor>', it ha* the necessary 
 population and can make for it>«lf a Constitution, which 
 firoply, muitt be iu accordance with the Conistitutjon of the 
 VuitcU States ami n ill not do 9o, then by all mean .« let it 
 abide a Territon under the government of fuu^ress till it 
 IV«»ent4 one. If her people arvquarrvliuf^ amougt^t them* 
 eelresit u an evidence they are not lifted to become &£>tate. 
 Congress i>huuld ini>i»t upon keeping them a territory till 
 tbey agree, and thut> &liow a litue^^ for becoming ou inde- 
 pendent, Hftf-exi-ting commonwealth. 
 
 If there are parties from the South who will control 
 thiugit wrongfully ugaiust the i>eople's will, let them be 
 de&lt with by a legal prucesd, and by the hand of power let 
 right be muintaiued. Ifthere arc {larties from the ^'orth 
 and Eaiit who place themselves iu oppoisition to the >*atiou- 
 &1 Gorenimeut. they should be treated as traitors, and sum- 
 marily di!q)uscd of. Kam}ad should not distract the nation, 
 Dor absorb its time, when matters of more importance de- 
 mand all tlic wlMJom, energy, and forethought of the Pres- 
 ident and his Cabinet. 
 
 The Central American affair is not yet di5poscd of to the 
 pati^taction of the people ;— two cunning British Ministers 
 at Washington may out policy our Cabinet, while Congress 
 are but rery fallible human nature, and may be bought 
 with iiriti.«h gold, or blindfoldetl by grand balls and red pet- 
 ticoats, yet we trust that Lewis Cass, that old watch-dog up- 
 on Briti^h treacliery. may not be outwitted by llie wily di- 
 plomatists of Hrilish policy, but that he may see clearly as 
 trer. He used to understand her intrigues and manoeuvres ; 
 be knows her histor>' as well as any other statesman ; and 
 again we tru.-x the rrc-^ident and Secretary may not in their 
 old age be huodwinked by the enemy of our progress, the 
 enemy of our system of fK-e government. And then tlie 
 more than absorbing subject, — Spanish designs upon 3Iex- 
 ico; not that Spain is of any con>eiiuencc in herself. — 
 but Spain, backed up by France and England, in league 
 with our old enemy. Santa Anna, Spain secured in the pos- 
 fes^ion of Cuba for some ulterior work which she is being 
 made the cat>-paw to perform — perhaps the dismemberment 
 of unhappy Mexico, or the placing a scion of the hous- 
 es of Guelpb, Castile, or a Napoleon on a throne in that 
 countrj-. 
 
 "We say neither Kansas nor any home matter should trifle 
 away the time of Congress to the neglect of vital and im- 
 portant matters to the nation, for sooner or later the Mon- 
 roe doctrine will have to be made the test point of our for- 
 eign policy. 
 
 If Mexico cannot maintain her integral and di.<tinct Na- 
 tionality. i>he knows what to do. At all events, the Uni- 
 ted States cannot allow Spain or any other monarchial 
 power to i>et np pretences to board and lodging, much less 
 a throne upon this continent. Congress. Cabinet, nor Pres- 
 ident could blindfold the American people. Could it be 
 possible they themselves were thus trifled with, it would 
 be the outburst o! the greatest demonstration of republican 
 fillibnstcring the world ever saw,— ending nowhere f^hort 
 of Southern republics, including Central America, Cuba, 
 perhaps the other West India I-^lands with the Canadas to 
 boot. It would be another evidence (if more were ncces- 
 sarj) that the democracy exirt. that at least upon this con- 
 tinent tlie people will rule. We started with regrets that 
 Kansas occupied so much time of such vast importance, — 
 we have other regrets l>e^ides that: we are sorr}- the Presi- 
 dent is annoyed with it, and desires it admitted while it 
 mar prove disastrous to the great National party. He should 
 simply dir-mito* the subject, giving (Jen. Ilamey positive or- 
 ders to keep the p^-ace. and protect property, extending his 
 power, and advising him to report to a few drum-head 
 courts martial, to hang the traitors hanc. Kobiuson, & Co., 
 Stringfellow or the border nifTmns, who should disturb the 
 public weal, or resist the constituted authority. 
 
 We are sorryjhat Commodore Paulding done English 
 work by arresting (Jen. Walker; we cannot see the neces- 
 sity or the right of it. and Walker would have settled the 
 Central American aflair. Mu5quito, territoiy and all. i>er- 
 haps pass round the<Julf to Slexico, and return by way 
 of Texas. 
 
 We are sorry to see SO much inclination to pocket thou- 
 sands of dollars, by members of Congress selling their 
 votes and influence. It cannot be too rigidly investigated, 
 too severely puni»hed. and we sincerely hope the honest 
 men in the House of UepresentatJvcs will ferret out where 
 every cent of the eighty-:^;ven thousand dollars went, and 
 hunt from the floor of Congresd the traders in llepubUcan 
 honor. 
 
 We arc sorry to see any thing Ukfdy to distract the har- 
 mony of the Democratic party — sorry to see Douglas, 
 Walker or Stanton obliged to diflbr with the Cabinet; 
 but knowing as we do, that those men are not of the disuu- 
 iouM class, we believe there will be an uudurstauding be- 
 tween them and the old jjatriot who so ably lillii the exec- 
 utive chair— ttmt their country's love predominating, will 
 bring them together, and that it will lluully prove but the 
 sterliug character of the men and the Prc>ident. 
 
 Finally, we fear most that England may get the bettor 
 of us by her wily and scheming ministers. She is our 
 greatest enemy, we ought not to trust her. Her Knvuys 
 Extraordinary may Kutter £u!d, and dazzle with balls at 
 Washington, but beware 
 
 '- liepublicans, of) are told. 
 All thai glitters is not gold.' 
 
 Other Senate's have been bought, other countries have 
 
 been sold, and the material of which our late and present 
 
 Congress is composed, proves that the palms of the Uepub- 
 
 ; lioans arc as impressible with the yellow metal as the men 
 
 with whom Castlereagh betrayed the Irish Nation, or 
 
 Georgie the Hungarians, or Arnold who endeavored lo sell 
 
 I his yet infant country. Some people think the Kansas em- 
 
 I broglio the all absorbing subject, but i believe too much at- 
 
 j tention has already been paid to it. There is no reason 
 
 why any internal strife exists in this country, wliere the 
 
 I people can if so disposed settle at the ballot box all difll'r- 
 
 , ences: they can be their own legislators, and should leave 
 
 I the central government opportunities to attend to foreign 
 
 ! and more important matters. l,et us not be like the moth 
 
 ] buzzing round a candle. lured to our own destruction. 
 
 I *' Sir William Gore Ouseley has taken the house on Prci^ 
 
 j ident's Square occupied lost winter by Gen. Webb, obligat- 
 
 > ing himself to pay an entire year's rent, which does not 
 
 I look much like Nicaragua. He gives an initial dinner to 
 
 j Lord Napier and others, and will follow it up each succeed- 
 
 ] ing Thursday until all the magnates have partakeu of his 
 
 j good cheer." 
 
 j Who pays for them? For what purpose is he in Wash- 
 i ington? We of foreign birth believe England is playiug an 
 I old game, and we give a timely warning. Defeat in China, 
 I India, or elsewhere, is not so bad in the eyes of a British 
 ' Cabinet as to see the principles of our Government pro- 
 i grcss one inch. Yours, KED HAND. 
 
 NUTS FOK KNOW NOTHINGS. 
 
 Editor of the Irish Miscfllany:— 
 
 Dear Sir: Having seen your prosi>e<jtus, I must say I 
 greet you with a warm hand, and wish you complete suc- 
 cess; and if your paper is only what you intend it shall be, 
 up to your professions, it must reach every- house of that 
 class of citizens for whom it is intended, insuring them very 
 much pleasure in seeing again in print a journal so univer- 
 sally kno\vD, and so appreciated; insuring the proprietors a 
 wide lield for their labors and their enterprise, and, after a 
 time, yielding an abundant harvest of remuneratiou for the 
 [ vcrj- praiseworthy undertaking. If with this preface you 
 I will accept the subscription, and occasional stray thoughts 
 i of" Paddy from Cork," I will now proceed to give you a 
 1 few nuts for Know Nothings to crack — understanding they 
 , are about to re-organise upon a jnore librral basis. We trust 
 they will come up to the Irish standard of Americanism. 
 These thoughts arc called forth by reading the following 
 (paragraph, and knowing the subject of them, and the 
 i truth of its contents, I may style him "The noblest Komon 
 j of them all."' 
 
 j GmfTol Shifts, formerly Senator from Illinois, and now 
 i from Minnesota, was a volunteer in the Mexican Wiir, and 
 
 was left for dead in the battle of Cerro <;ordo. being shot 
 ' through the body by an fsmpft ball. One of the soldiers in 
 ; that battle, wrote to the yationnl InuUis^neer. that when ho, 
 , with others, proceeded to raise him up. this brave Irish em- 
 , igraut thus addressed them—*' Men, I am of no further use 
 I to my country! you are. Lay me down and let me die: 1 
 I might as well'die here as to be taken offlo die. Vou are 
 j all strong, able-bodied men, able to do your country some 
 
 service. For God's sake, lay me down and do your 'duty.*' 
 
 — iWir6urj7?or( Herald. 
 
 The above is, by using an Irish phraseology, (he account 
 of the death of the last American General who fell in war. 
 That General Shields' recover)- was almost a miracle, all 
 physicians agree, yet there has been an instance recorded 
 lately, of an English soldier's death, in whose lungs was 
 
 I found a musket ball received at the siege of Bajados. 
 
 I It is not of General Shields' recovery, however, I would 
 speak; it is of his remarks to those who wished to aid him 
 when they expected he was dying. 
 *• Lay me down and do your duty." Tliis was in April, 
 
 ■ and although shot through the body, he lived to be again 
 
 ' wounded In September, when entering the city of Mexico. 
 Comment on this would be superfluous; we leave it to (he 
 
 \ traducers of Irish character. 
 
 [ The first general who fell in war for the Independence of 
 
 I the United States, waslikewi^an Irishman. Lconidas-Iike. 
 he died in the pass. Called upon by Congress, he refused 
 
 p not; but taking leave of his his yourg and newly married 
 wife, he paid—'" You shall never be asliamed of your Mont- 
 gomer>-." Just as he had the capitol of British America in 
 bis grasp, and her power by the throat, he fell— fighting for 
 
 1 a country whose ti}ii£ would deny his countrymen their 
 
 I rights and privileges. It is said a Yankee K-a cajitain flred 
 I the gun which killed hlni. Monuments of Tnith— Devotion 
 and Fidelity- (he PruteKtant and Calholic Irishmen, living 
 or dying i'utrlots. The Union never knew an Irish Traitor; 
 she has always provcHl her Irish friends. 
 A history of Boston now before me, by Samuel G. Drake, 
 , contains many curious things, among them, on page 312, 
 ■ chapter 36. I find the following:— 
 
 I *• By order of the * State of England,' 1*V>4, many Irish 
 I people had been sent to New England. On their arrival 
 I they were sold by tiiose at whose e\|»ensethey were brought 
 ; over, lo any of the inhabitants who were iu want of slaves 
 , or K-rvants. There arrived the last year, a ship called the 
 t Good Fellow, Captain George Dell, with a large number of 
 emigrants of the above description. Many of the Scotch 
 people had been sent before this in the same war. Some of 
 them had been taken i)rUouers at the sanguinary battle of 
 ; Dunbar. There arrived in one ship, the ' John and Sarah,' 
 I John Green, master, early iu the summer of 1052, about 
 I 272 i»ersons. Captain Green had orders to deliver them to 
 , Thomas Kenibic, of Charlestown, who was to sell them, 
 I and with the proceeds to take freight for the West Indies." 
 Thus Old England and New England carried on the tchitt 
 stare trade. Forty thousand Irishmen and Scotchmen dur> 
 ing the rule of Cromwell alone, were sold on this con- 
 tinent, as slaves, for the crime of loving their country — the 
 dreadful crime of loving liberty. Others sold themselves or 
 hound themselves to captains of vessels for their ex])enscs 
 or passage money: the latter were called ICedcmptorists, 
 among whom were the three signers of the Declaration of 
 Independence. Secretary Thompson, Matthew Thornton, 
 and George Taylor, the parents of Major General and 
 Governor Sullivan, as were others, early framers and 
 founders of this Itepublic. The Irish then, as now, loved 
 j Freedom, and rendered an honorable allegiance to their 
 I adopted land. One other extract from Drake's historj- of 
 Boston. Speaking of tlie sulTerings from war and famine 
 in the year 1676, he says — " Indeed, famine had followed 
 close in the desolated path of war, and as well observes 
 Dr. Cotton Mather, it was ' coming in like an armed man.* 
 In this extremity, Dr. Increase Matherdid, by his letters, 
 procure a whole ship's load of provisions from the charity 
 of his friends iu Dublin; and a considerable sum of money, 
 and much clothing, from the like charity of his friends in 
 London, greatly to the relief of the poor people here." The 
 charities received from Ireland were distributed in Boston, 
 where there was the roost suffering. Thus the American 
 gifts to Ireland in li^S, while they were the spontaneous 
 gifts of a noble benevolence to a suflering people, (a suffer- 
 ing brought on by bad government.) was hut [laying back 
 an old score to another truly generous nation. These ex- 
 tracts are gratifying to our people, and with your permis- 
 sion I may recur to others of like import, for the Irishman 
 is equal, if not superior to other men in the faculties ol 
 brain and generous principles, which warm and move the 
 human heart. PAt'DEEN. 
 
 A CREDITABLE ACT. 
 We learn that the "Irish Fusiliers," (Co. A, 63th Begt.) 
 Captain Michael Corcoran, liave lately made a donation of 
 S150 to the Orphan Asylum in Prince-street, under charge 
 of the Sisters of Charitj*. This sum had been originally op- 
 propriated for an Invitation Ball to be given by the Com- 
 pany to their friends, in order to reconipcngc them for any 
 discomforts endured from the unexpected severity of the 
 weather on the occasion of their excursion to Yonkers last 
 Summer. The praiseworthy object to wliich it was sub.«c- 
 quently applied, while it reflects credit on the humane dis- 
 position of Capt. Corcoran and his command, will, we arc 
 sure, meet the approbation of those who would have been 
 their guests — who will, in feet, be so as they are determined 
 to have their Ball still, and have settled that it shall take 
 place on the evening of ilonday next, the 8th intt, at tha 
 I Chinese Assembly Booms, as all Xheimying Balls may then 
 
 I be expected to have passed off. lEobertson's splendid cotill- 
 ion bund has been secured for the occasion. We are sure 
 , they will have one of the picnsantest reunions of the year, 
 ' ami they deserve it. 
 
 1 We are glad to find that thc69th is progressing satisfactor- 
 < ily in numbers and discipline, and that Battalion and Com- 
 , pany drill which latter should engage the utmost attention 
 I of evejy Captain, are regularly practised. Col Ilyun partic- 
 ulary attends to this. We are informed olso that a cori)s of 
 I Drummers — similinr to those of the 5th, 7th, and 71st— is 
 j DOW under instniction, and will probably parade with the 
 Regiment on Patrick's Day next. Success to the COth, say 
 I wc- May tlieir shadow never be less. — Irish Amirican. 
 
 SIDNEY Lesder — "You want a hundred dollars! Ilerc's 
 the money. I charge five per cent a month, and m you 
 want it for a year, that leaves just forty dollars coming to 
 you." 
 
 issocEjTT Borrowt:r. — "Then if I wanted it for two 
 years, there'd be something coming to you." 
 
 Wliat is tlie dificrcnce between a successful lover and hi 3 
 rival ! 
 The oue kisses his miss and the other misges his ki£8. 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 11 
 
 [Continued Jrom page 8rfi.] 
 Tlio town of Cnsliell, which h;id fjrown into consider- 
 able importance, WHS burnt down in the year U 79. 
 J)oni\tus O'Limergiin, tho second bishop of Casliull, 
 assisted lU the council of Lateran in 1815, and, it is 
 said, died there. His successor was also his naino- 
 " sake, and tlio third arclibisliop of that name in tho 
 diocese of Cnsliell, lie erected CaslicU into a. borough 
 in the year 122.'3. Afarinn O'Brian became his sue 
 ccssor and having ol)taincd a perpetual alms-gift of 
 tlio town, from King Henry III, regrnntcd and con- 
 firmed the same to the provost and burgesses, reserving 
 only to himself the bakery and shambles, in return for 
 which tho citizens in 1230 made a grant of two gallons 
 of ale out of every brewage in their town, for ever, to- 
 wards the support of a lazar house founded by Sir 
 David lo Latimer, the archbishop's seneschal. In this 
 hospital provision was made for three chaplains, and 
 fourteen beds were kept for siek and infirm poor. In 
 12.i3 Marian was succeeded by David McCarwell who 
 in 1268 granted anindulgenceof forty days, to all sucli 
 as would contribute to the erection of St. Paul's Church, 
 in London. This prelate expelled the occupants of the 
 lazar hospital by force, and united it to the Cistercian 
 Abbey, about the year 1272. lie seems to have been 
 somewhat troublesome to the government, but as he 
 was of a kind and charitable nature, and a great bene- 
 factor to the church, we may safely infer that he was 
 defending the rights of the people committed to his 
 charge, against the oppressions of their rulers. Ho 
 founded the Chauntry of St. Nicholas, the Abbey of 
 the rock of Cashell and Hore Abbey, called St. Mary's 
 of the rock of Cashell, a monastery for the Cistercian 
 monks, in the vicinity of the town, tho ruins of which 
 still attest its former splendor. 
 
 In one respect Cashell was unfortunately situated, 
 being upon the borders of the Butlors country and ex- 
 posed in their wars with the family of Desmond, to 
 the hostile neighborhood of the Fitageralds. In one 
 of the disputes between these, David Creagh, arch- 
 bishop of Cashell in 1483, became obnoxious to Ger- 
 ald Fitzgerald, the great Earl of Kildare ; the conse- 
 quence of which was that the earl, about 1498, burnt 
 down the cathedral and devastated the town. 
 
 The archbishop, being supported by the E.arl of Or- 
 monde, the chief of the Butlers, complained of this 
 sacriligeous conduct, on the part of Gerald, to King 
 Henry VII, and added that all Ireland could not gov- 
 ern him. Henry, taxing Fitzgerald, who was then present 
 in council, was answered by the audacious Fitzgerald, 
 that " By G — d he would never have thought of com- 
 mitting such a sacrilege had he not been told for cer- 
 tain, that tho archbishop was inside the cathedral." 
 This reply so characteristic of the fiery Gerald, gained 
 him the good will of the king, who soon after created 
 him Lord Deputy of Ireland, alleging that " if all Ire- 
 land could not govern him, he was for that reason the 
 fittest man to govern all Ireland." 
 
 Wo do not find on the record much that would in- 
 terest our readers until after the reformation. James 
 MacCaghwell, who had been nominated to tho see by 
 Queen Elizabeth, was staljbcd to death by his titular 
 rival, Maurice Gibbon or Maurice Reagh, in l.'J70. 
 His successor was Miles McGrath, who having pre- 
 viously filled ihe sec of Down was promoted to the 
 dignity of Archbishop of Cashell, by the " virtuous 
 queen." McGrath was a native of Fermanagh who 
 had, at an early age joined the order of St Francis. It 
 would seem, from certain events in his life, that Mc- 
 Grath entered the sanctuary as the best way to wealth 
 and dignity. Such was his avarice that it drew upon 
 him the censures of even Protestant writers. Ho 
 was promoted to the see of Down by the Pontifl^, Paul 
 v., but being deprived of the temporalities connected 
 with his see, and thus foiled in that which his heart 
 most loved, he cast aside the warnings of conscience, 
 and submitting to Elizabeth, renounced his religion. 
 For this apostacy, and to stimulate others to follow his 
 example. Miller was translated to the see of Cloghcr, 
 thence to the united bishoprics of Cashell and Emily, 
 in February 1571. His avarice and cupidity not yet 
 satiated, he obtained from Elizabeth a commendatory 
 
 grant which enabled him to clutch the see's of Lismoro 
 and Waterford, and retain them twenty-fivo years. 
 
 To complete his fall he married ono AnnoO'Mcara, 
 who died soon after wasted with grief. Some time 
 after he married a second wife, that he might have ono 
 to share with him the plunder of the church. It would 
 ho useless to follow the unhappy man tlirough his 
 wretched career ; suffice it to say, that after being two 
 years bed-ridden, ho died in December, 1G22, at the 
 advanced age of ono hundred years, having previously 
 returned to tho bosom of the Catholic Church. Tho 
 following is an English translation of tho epitaph in 
 Latin, inscribed on his monument in the cathedral of 
 Cashell, whicli was composod by himself in the first 
 year of his illness. 
 
 " Patrick the glory of our isle and gown, 
 First sat a bishop in tho see of Down. 
 I wish that I, succeeding him in place 
 As bishop, had an equal share of grace. 
 I served thee, England, fifty years in jars. 
 And pleased thy princes in the midst of wars : 
 Here where I am placed, I am not, and thus tho case is, 
 I am not in both, yet am in bothplaces. 1621. 
 He that judges me is tho Lord, 
 Let him who stands take care lest he fall." 
 
 This monument is on the south side of the choir, 
 but his body was privately interred according to the 
 rites of the Catholic Church, elsewhere. 
 
 In the wars subsequent to the rebellion of 1541 
 Cashell was garrisoned and the rock put in a state of 
 defence by Lord Tafl'e, on tho part of the Irish royal- 
 ists ; but Inchiquin who commanded the parliamentary 
 forces, having taken Cahier, which, at that time, (1547) 
 was considered the key to Tippcrary, assumed a posi- 
 tion so threatening that Lord Tatfe withdrew from 
 CashE 11, leaving only a small garrison to aid the in- 
 habitants in their defence. On Inchiquin's .approach 
 the city was deserted and the people, leaving their 
 gates open, fled to tho cathedral for protection. 
 
 MacGeoghegan thus describes the slaughter which 
 followed. " The holy city of Cashell where tho apos- 
 tle of Ireland baptized the first Christian king of the 
 province, did not escape his (Inchiquin'sJ fury ; in vain 
 tho terrified inhabitants sought safety in the cathedral 
 church, tho sanctity of which was no security against 
 the tyrant, Inchiquin having given orders for an as- 
 sault, commanded his soldiers to give no quarter, so 
 that between the carnage in and outside the church, 
 not one escaped, Twenty clergymen, with a vast 
 multitude of people perished on this occasion. He 
 took pleasure in burning whole villages, houses and 
 the properties of the inhabitants, for which he was 
 called Marrough an tolthatne — that is Murrough the in- 
 cendiary, by wliich name he is still known in that 
 province where his memory is execrated." 
 
 During the wars of Cromwell, Cashell was again 
 takeir, after which its annals eontain nothing histori- 
 cally remarkable. Subsequent to the revolution of 
 1088, it became prosperous, reaped numerous ad- 
 vantages, and, up to the period of the " Union " of the 
 Irish with the English parliament, continued to grow 
 and flourish. Cashell, in common with the other towns 
 and cities of Ireland, has since then felt tho evil con- 
 sequences of that infamous measure, and has since 
 gone much to decay. Yet, in tho midst of dilTicul- 
 ties and poverty, Cashell has continued to support 
 large numbers of schools, and to dispense the blessings 
 of education to the rising generation with a profuse 
 and liijcral hand. What the present condition of this 
 beautiful old city may be, wc cannot say ; it is many 
 years since we stood upon her holy soil, and wc have 
 not, at present, access to modern documents on « hich 
 wc can rely. Wo long for the time, when under a gov- 
 ernment inaugeratcd by the unanimous voice of a free 
 jieoplc, she shall be restored to her ancient splendor, 
 and again enjoy tho name of the " Holy City of Cash- 
 ell." — Ware's IVorks, Carte's Life of Ormonde, Inglls's 
 Ireland in 1834, Walsh's Ilistorij of the Irish Uierarchij. 
 
 "THEKNGIJSII IN INDIA." 
 It will bo scon from the following, which we cut from the 
 JI/M.vssi>)/)M(i of January 22ii(l that John Jlitchol in doing 
 KOortBCTvicetwthe cause of truth, in the Ssoutliern States 
 by Ilia lectures upon the above subject. 
 
 MrrcuEL's Lkctuue.— By the invitation of numerous 
 citizens, niul agreeable to previous notice.Mr. .John Mitchel 
 (Iclivured his promised lecture in this city, Wednesday eve- 
 iihiglast. The large number of visitors in the city in atten- 
 dance on the Grand Lodge, rendered tlie appointment pe- 
 culiarly favorable for a brilliant, intellectual and appre- 
 ciative audience. 
 
 At an early hour the Hall of Representatives was crowd- 
 ed to overflowing. The sterner sex was largely represented 
 but it was still more gratifying to note that the room was 
 radiant with the sunny smiles and briglit eyes of beautiful 
 women. 
 
 Mr. Jlitchel was received and introduced to the audience 
 by the distinguished Chief Magistrate of the Stale, Gov.Mc- 
 WlLLlE, whose speech of cordial and complimentary greet- 
 ing, was peculiarly felicitous, and elicited frequent applause. 
 Mr. Mitchel responded appropriately; and proceeded to 
 deliver his discourse upon the theme previously announced: 
 " The English in India." • 
 
 We will not mar the splendid proportions of this grand 
 intellectual structure by attempting a sketch, or a detailed 
 description of it. During its delivery of nearly two hours, 
 his large and cultivated audience was held in breathless at- 
 tention. It was a plain, clear, cogent, and we may say 
 startling, narrative of facts illustrating the selfishness 
 cruelty and barbarity of British rule in India, occasionally 
 interspersed with withering satire scarcely paralleled by the 
 terrible invectives of Jenius; but anon the lecturer would 
 draw himself up '-until his faculties seemed to jostle the 
 stars," while his teeming thoughts found utterance in drap- 
 ery of more than Miltonic grandeur and gorgeousness. 
 
 As a public speaker, Mr. Mitchel's mamier is unambitious 
 and uiipreteutious. He seems not to have attempted to 
 master the graces of oratory, but to have studied more the 
 matterofhisdiscoursethan the mere form of its delivery. 
 His manner is entirely self-possessed, and his action easy 
 and unrestrained ; and his full, rich, well modulated voice 
 adds an indescribable charm to the bright conceptions of 
 his genius. 
 
 Vesterday, with a number of friends, he partook of a sump- 
 tuous entertaiument at the Executive Mansion, the hospita- 
 lities of which were dispensed witli the urbanity and ele- 
 gance peculiar to the respected host and Ids accomplished 
 lady and daughters. To-day he proceeds on his journey 
 Southward, carrying with him the good wishes of all our 
 citizens. 
 
 True Eepentance.— A man that has made himself rich 
 by a dishonest course, may repent of his course after he is 
 ricli. But when a man has grown rich by cliealing others 
 he cannot make a true repentance without also making rep- 
 aracion. Simply to stop his dishonesties for the future and 
 to live comfortably on what he has reaped by them in the'past 
 is not repentance. A' man who has injured another by a 
 slander cannot repent by mcarly ceasing to repeat the slan- 
 der; he must go and contradict it, and apologize for it. 
 God other wise will not accept his repentance, for it is not 
 genuine. Christ says, "If thou bring thy gift to the alter, 
 and there remcmberest that thij brother hathaiighl asainstthee 
 leave tliere thy gift before the alter, and go thy way; flrst 
 be reconciled to thy brother, and then come and oiferthy gift." 
 If men do wrong to their fellow-nien, and suppose that they 
 can repcut without reparation, they deceive themselves; but 
 they cannot deceive God. AH their subterfuges, all their 
 pretentious goodness, all their piteous prayers, will be con- 
 temptible in His sight so long as they have not honestly 
 candidly, and in a manly way, sought to right the wrong, 
 they have done. 
 
 ■\aRGIMA. 
 
 The Legislature has appropriated two thousand dollars 
 towards defraying the expenses of the inauger.ition of Craw- 
 ford's statue of Washington on the 22nd of February next. 
 
 The civic and military display on the occasion it is c.\pect- 
 cd, will be the greatest ever witnessed in that city. All the 
 volunteer eor)>s and fire companies of I'ctersburg, and 
 two military companies from Washington have determined 
 upon being present. The I'rcsident and Ids Cabinet, and 
 distinguished men from all sections of the Union, arc ex- 
 pected to participate in the ceremonies. The address will bo 
 delivered by Senator It. M. T. Hunter. 
 
 Mr. Crawford, the distinguished sculptor above referred 
 to, lately deceased, although claimed as " the great Ameri- 
 can Sculptor," was a native of the North of Ireland. 
 
 Ill favored men whoso minds are intellectual are 
 like dark lanterns; wo regard not so much the body 
 because of the lustre of that which dwcllelh in it. 
 
 Jones says that he hears a good deal about hard tii 
 but he thiuks tlie Judges of the Special Sessions have 
 most '* trying" time of it. 
 
 A HINT. 
 Gent, (in hopes).— .Sally, what time do your folks dine 
 StiUy.— Soon as you goes away. Dem's missus's orders. 
 
12 
 
 IRlSn MISCELLANY. 
 
 DISCJlCVCEFULritOCEKDINtiS IX CONGRESS. 
 
 Wahiiinoto.n, Feb. 6.— Tlit- IIuum' wurt in Bcshion nil 
 night. A IlK'lit occurred iKJlwecu Mi-^^-ra. Cirow and Kcitl. 
 The latter struck tirow thricv, audGruw knocked him down. 
 The parties wurv llun si|>aralid 
 
 1 o'clock A. M. Mr. Uuvis of Mifwiwippi unaecpptobly 
 propoMd by way of variety that the Uoum: have u few 
 speeches. 
 
 Mr. Grow objected. The proceedinpi wero cxcocUinply 
 dull, uboul one-tenth of the incinben* beiug either iiwleep or 
 nodding in their seats. A few were hnioking cigars, and 
 others going and coming ft-om the reln-j^hnunt rooms. 
 Just at this point the llouMJ wttin thrown into most violent 
 excitement, and a tbarAil scene of coul\tsion took place. 
 
 A member of Congress who wuj} a witness gives the fol- 
 lowing iwrticulare:— 
 
 Mr. Grow objected to Mr. Quitman's makingany remarks. 
 
 Mr. Keith said. "If you are going to object, return to 
 your own side of tlie House." 
 
 Mr. Grow resjwnded, "This is a (Vcc ball, and every man 
 luu a right to be where he plcasi's.'' 
 
 Mr. Keitt then came up to Mr. Grow and said;—" I want 
 to know what you mean by such an answer as that." 
 
 Mr. Grow replied;— "I mean just what I say. This is a 
 free hall ami a man has a right to be where he pleases." 
 
 Mr. Keitt, taking Mr. Grow by the throat, said:— "I will 
 lot you know that you are a damned black Kepublican 
 puppy." 
 
 Mr. Grow knocked up his hand saying;-"! shall occupy 
 euch a place in this hall as I please, and no nigger driver shall 
 crack his whip over me." 
 
 Mr. Keitt then again grabbed Mr. Grow by the throat, 
 and Mr. Grow knocked his hand ulf, and Mr. Keitt coming 
 at him again, 3Ir. Grow knocked him down. 
 
 The fight took place at twenty minutes belore two 
 o'cPk. Further dirticultics are apprehended. The respective 
 friends of both imrties rushed to the re-scue. Various mem- 
 bers on each side engaged in the fight, which took place in 
 thearva (Vonting the clerk's de.sk. Mr. Washburn of Illi- 
 nois was conspicuous among the Itepublicans, dealing heavy 
 blows. 
 
 Tlic speaker loudly and imperatively demanded order, and 
 called on the pcrgeant-at-Arms to interfere. That functiou- 
 ar>% (carrying liLs mace of office, ) together with his assis- 
 tants, hurried to the scene, and crowding into the thickest 
 of the fight, in which at least a dozen members were en- 
 gaged. Some minutes elapsed before this truly fearful con- 
 te.-it was quieted. The members having reluctantly return- 
 ed to tlivir seats, there was a dead calm in comparison with 
 the scene jus-t enacted. 
 
 31r- Quitman proposed that they now adjourn and take 
 up the reference of the Kansas Message on Monday, at one 
 o'clock.— There wore emphatic and general responses from 
 the Kepublican side — "nolnol" The confusion began to 
 break out afresh, when the Speaker said he would direct 
 the Sergcant-at-Arms to put under arrest those who disrc- 
 ganled the order of the House. 
 
 Mr. Camplwll said that he foresaw that disagreeable' feel- 
 ings would re'sult herefrom the exciting questions connec- 
 ted with Kansas. 
 
 Mr.Barksdale of Mississippi called the gentlemen to order. 
 
 Mr. Campbell wished the gentleman from Mississippi to 
 know that he was his peer. 
 
 TnK MoitMos Wau.^TIic Washington Union pays: So 
 tkr fVoni any relaxation being likely to occur in the efforts 
 of tlie administration to press on reinforcements for the 
 army in Utah, we have conclusive re-ason to believe that 
 every resource at its command will be exhausted by the 
 ^var department for swelling and expediting these rein- 
 foreemLMits. 
 
 The preimration of the administration will be such that 
 whatever re'>ponsihiIity for mischances to our gallant army 
 shall attach to the government, tliey shall fall alone at the 
 dooDf of Congress. 
 
 The .V. Y. Tim'-i of Feb. 6, says, that the Hon. Horace S. 
 Eldridge, one of the leaders of the Saints, who is now on a 
 vi^^t to tils city, and is charged with the suiKrvL^ion of the 
 Slormou Church in the East. Mr. Eldridge seeks to cor- 
 rect certain mi<>apprehension8 in the mind of the public 
 concerning the dl-position of the Mormons, but admits that 
 any attempt of the troops to enter Salt Lake city in hos- 
 tile array, will inevitably result in bloodshed. 
 
 C7*Franci8 Dairies, an Irish poet, has received a govern- 
 ment pension of jCoO per annum; he has contributed large- 
 ly to the Dublin University Magazine.- £Jr. 
 
 Mr. Davics was known in 1&48 by his nomme deplume of 
 "The Ik-Ifai<t 3Ian."— fa. 
 
 BuRMxo FLuia AccroENT.— On Friday night last while 
 filling a fluid lamp at her residence, No. 352 North street, 
 Ellen Anderson was so severely burned, by its bunting, that 
 there ar« small hopes of her recovery. 
 
 Speaking of no one's having the courage to reply to Gen 
 Cushing'8 speech in the Legii^lature, the other day, the New- 
 York Tribune says — ''Some one should at least have whist 
 led, to prove that he was struggling to keep his courage up.' 
 
 BOSTONAND VICINITY. 
 
 The Calkdoma Curn Hall.— The second Ball of the 
 Caledonia lluh took place on the evening of the Mb int-t. at 
 Union Hall, and was an event which will always be looked 
 to with i>leahure- by all who hud the good fortune to purtic- 
 iyuxtti. The hall was buautifhily decorated under the su|>er- 
 Islon of Mr Francis N. Mitchell, and in front of the galle- 
 ries were conspicuous the elegant banner of the Club, and 
 their seal, which by the way, is a deslgu of Mr. Mitchell, 
 and very neat it Is. 
 
 Shortly ailer eight o'clock, the company, numbering l\ill 
 two hundred couples, to which number the tickets were 
 
 mited, marehed into the hall, the band playhig a grand 
 march, composed exi)ressly for the occasion, and dedicated 
 to the Club by Alonzo Bond. This was much admired, and 
 was performed admirably, as was all the nmsic of the even- 
 ing, by the f\ill quadrille band of this excellent musician. 
 
 The ball ojwned with the reel o' Tullochgorum, and when 
 the company formed for this, the sight from the galleries 
 beautifhl beyond description, the elegant and varied 
 dre-sses of the bonnie lassies, together with the showy cos- 
 tumes of the Club, and the many military gentlemen form- 
 ing a sight seldom indeed seen in our city. 
 
 The order of dances comprised all the fashionable dances 
 in vogue, liberally interspersed with the national dances of 
 the country, and it was little short of daylight when the 
 programme was finished. The interei^t was kept up, una- 
 bated, to the end, and when the last dance was finished, 
 there was a look of regret on more than one fair face. In 
 every particular this was undoubtedly the most successful 
 ball the Caledonia Club have ever given, and we but express 
 the ofl reiwated wishes of a large number of tho.se present 
 Inst night, in saying they must by all means give another 
 before the season closes. 
 
 Among the Highland costumes, worn so generally by the 
 Club, we noticed the following:—" Buchanan" worn by Dr. 
 ■\V. E. Coale, "Gordon," by Gordon Forrest, "Hunting 
 Argyle," by W. G. Smith, "Royal Stuart" by Monroe 
 Koss, " Kob Roy" by William Willcy, "Argyle" by Mr. 
 Banks, *, Robinson" by John Kells, "McDonald" by Jas. 
 McDonald, and " Royal Stuart" by James Bogle. The vet- 
 eran Miller Crabbie, Esq., was also present, wearing the an- 
 cient costume of a Lowlander. — Boston Ledger. 
 
 Wanis 4 and &, there were but 2 each. Thirty-two were of 
 children under the age of five years, and 68 persons were ol 
 foreign parentage, 21 being nutiveti of Ireland. There wero 
 4G males aud 37 females. 
 
 Man's Destinv. — The appearance of man upon the scene 
 of being constitutes a new era in creation, the operations of 
 a new instinct come into play— that instinct which anticipa- 
 tes a life after the grave, and rcpot-es implicit faith upon a 
 God alike just and good, who is the pledged "rewarderof 
 all who diligently seek Him." And in looking along the 
 long line of being — ever rising in the scale from higher to 
 yet higher manifestations, or abroad on the lower animals, 
 whom instinct never deceives — can we hold that mon. im- 
 mea.surably higher in Ins place, and infinitely higher in his 
 hopes and a.«piration6 than all that ever ■went before him, 
 should be, notwithstanding, the one grand error in creation 
 — the one painful worker, in the midst of present troubles, 
 for a state into which he is never to enter— the befooled ex- 
 pectant of a happy future which he is nwvcr to see? Assur- 
 edly no. He who keeps faith with His humble creatures — 
 who gives even the bee and the dormouse the winter for 
 which they prepare — will to a certainty not break faith with 
 man — with man, alike the deputed lord of the present crea- 
 tion, and the chosen heir of all the future. We have been 
 looking abroad on the old geologic burj-ing-grounds, and 
 deciphering the strange inscriptions on their tombs, but there 
 arc other burying grounds, and other tombs — solitary church 
 yards among the hills, where the dust of martyrs lies,, and 
 tombs that rise over the ashes of the wise and good; nor arc 
 there wanting, on even the moimmcnts of the perished race, 
 frequent hieroglyphics and smybols of high meaning, which 
 darkly intimate to us, that while their burial yards contain 
 but the debris of the past, we are to regard the others as 
 charged with the sown seed of the futuij;.- i/Kf,'A Miller. 
 
 "GoiTM'niLE YOU 'HE YoUNO."— At the poor house in 
 Taunton, a few days since, a mother gave birth to a child 
 weighing eight pounds, the mother being eleven years old 
 and the father but fourteen. The mother herself was born 
 in the poor house. 
 
 Common Sense in Chelsea.- At a meetingof the Board 
 ofMayorand Aldermen of Chelsea, held on Thursday eve- 
 ning, Alderman G. W. Churchill offered the following res- 
 olution, which was adopted by a vote of five to three: 
 
 iI<r5o/fr'/— That in the opinion of the City Council of Chel- 
 sea, the best way of regulating the sale of intoxicating li- 
 quors and promoting the cauiw oftemperance, would be the 
 passage by the lx;gislature of a license law, and a law ren- 
 dering penal the act of adulterating or selling of spirituous 
 liquors in which Intemperance finds a most prolific source 
 
 Deaths IS THE City. — During the week ending Satur- 
 day last at noon there were 83 deaths in this city, an in- 
 cre-ase of W over last week's bill of mortality. Of these no 
 less than 25 were caused by consi^mption. Seventeen oc- 
 cured in Ward 7, U in M'ard 8 and 10 in Ward 12, while in 
 
 An iNcrmuioiMLU Bov.— John A whs a good-natured 
 
 fellow, not without wit, averse to toll, and s|H.'nding most 
 of his time in manipulating those rectangular forms of 
 pasteboard which T. Cre-hore- devises, and v, here the Amer- 
 ican eagle sits on the ace ofspades. John's father was dead, 
 but his uncle, a Boston citizen, freiinently gave him good 
 advice, "John," said he, one day, ''be industrious, and 
 with your talents you can make anything of yourself. Sup- 
 pose you have no capital. lAHik at old Billy Grayl Hu 
 came into this city with a pack on his back, and went out 
 with a million of dollars!'' "That's nothing to my case, 
 uncle," said the incorrigible John, " I came into this city 
 with two packs In my pocket, and am going out without a 
 red cent." — Nrw York Post. 
 
 "Here's your money, dolt. Now tell me why your mas- 
 ter wrote eighteen letters about that paltry sun)?" said an 
 exasperated debtor. 'J'm sure, sir, I can't tell, sir; but it 
 you'll excuse me, sir, I think it was because seventeen let- 
 ters did not fetch it." 
 
 A Woman chauoed with roisoKiNOHER whole fam- 
 ily. — A woman named lloag, has been arrested in Ala- 
 bama, Genesee Co. , N. Y., who is suspected of having poi - 
 soned her husband and six children within the past few years. 
 Her husband died in July, 1856, three children previous to 
 his death and three since. Suspicions of foul play were en- 
 tertained, and all the bodies were exhumed, and upon an- 
 alysis, arsenic was found in them all. The inhuman moth- 
 er is now in jail awaiting the action of the Grand Jury- 
 
 SlNGULAR ATMOePHEUICAL PHENOMKNON.— TlieHing- 
 
 ham Journal says: — "A most singular state of the atmos- 
 phere was observable through the day on Monday the 1st 
 inst, the line of the sea-coast in this region of the country. 
 It was nothing more nor Ic^s than a mirage, which is a sci- 
 entific term to describe that condition of the atmosphere 
 that produces an optical illusion arising from an unequal 
 refraction in the lower strata of the atmosphere, and caus- 
 ing remote objects to be seen double as if reflected in a mir- 
 ror, or to appear as if suspended in the air. This j>henomc- 
 na was seen by thousands of persons on this coast Ships 
 were seen sailing in the a ir, and distant parts of Capo Cod 
 were distinctly visible in the vicinity of Boston ; large rocks 
 and islands were clearly painted out upou the clouds, and 
 various other singular appearances were discemed by many 
 eyes. We believe the like of this phenomena has never be- 
 fore occurred on this coast." 
 
 Tapering off Shabbilv. — It is sold that the Managers 
 of the Washington Monument have got so short of funds 
 that they intend building the remainder of it of brick, and 
 cover it with mastic to rcpreseat marble. — Wepre'sumesaya 
 the 'Worcester Bfii/ 5(rtff, if the Father of his Country wero 
 now alive, they would present him with a galvanized watch 
 asatokenof theirappreciation of his services during the rev- 
 olutionary war. 
 
 Mr. Sewarp on the Mormons. The following fVom 
 Senator Seward's late speech is graphic and seems to be 
 true: 
 
 "I am told that these Mormons wili not fight; and I 
 know that it is not until after a long time that any commu- 
 nity makes up its mind to defy an imperial power like this; 
 but, sir, these Mormons are exceptional in the first place. 
 They have done nothing but fight from thebegining. They 
 are an armed and military sect, n superstitious sect, and 
 war is an element of their progrct-s. They fought them- 
 selves out of the State ofN. York, when they were but a 
 hondful of men, into Ohio. They wrangled themselves out 
 of Ohio into 3Iissouri. Civil war grew up around them in 
 Missouri, and they fought their way .into Illinois and Es- 
 tablished themselves at Nauvoo, and a civil war attended 
 their exit from Nauvoo to the Salt Lake. They are worth- 
 less for any other purpose but to fight. Their religion 
 makes them fighting men; for it is a religion which can 
 submit to no civil authority that is administered or exer- 
 cised overthemby a Christian people. It is a religion which 
 give^ license, in the name of government and God, to the 
 indulgence of basest prosperity of human nature. I never 
 yet have read, I never yet have heard. I never yet have seen 
 any superstition afthis kind that did not take in, as its 
 weapon for prolytism the sword.'* 
 
 PniLADELpniA Bankr.— The banks of Philadelphia 
 have virtually rcsumec_ sptxie i>ayment>i.f' No difficulty is 
 experienced in obtaining gold and tilver at any of them — 
 It is probably that a formal ai d general re.sumptinn will be 
 announceil in the courfic of a < ay o.- two. There is, indeed 
 no practical impediment in the way, and the public are 
 fully prepared for such a movement. 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 13 
 
 EXTKAOTS PHOM THE IRISH JOURNALS. 
 
 The Dublin Con-espondcnt of the N. Y. Irish News 
 who writes over the signature of 'Kitmainham,' and 
 weekly furnishes to that ably conducted paper a letter 
 which no Irishman should fail to read, thus dis- 
 courses of 
 
 Ibisii Manufacture. 
 
 ' Various ' movements' have taken place in this 
 conntry for the revival of Irish manufacture. Mis- 
 chievous in themselves, inasmuch as they tended to 
 perpetuate delusion, ihese movements never did any 
 good for Irish manufacture. The idea of establishing 
 manufactures by dint of talk, was one of the absurd- 
 cst. Nevertheless, the thing has at various times been 
 attempted, but always with the same result — 'great 
 noise and little wool.' At present there Is no noise 
 being made about Irish manufivctures ; there is no 
 ' Board' meeting twice a week and boring us with 
 nonsensical statistics ; there is no secretary blotting 
 pages of foolscap with elaborate nonsense — there is 
 nothing of this now, and yet I venture to say that 
 Irish manufactured goods are now more generally 
 worn than when Daniel O'Connell walked into the 
 House of Commons in his coat of Irish frieze. Our 
 swells, here now wear Irish frieze coats — and devilish 
 handsome coats they are too. Frieze coats are tlie 
 fashion — patriotism has nothing to do with it. But 
 what matters it from what motive our swells act, when 
 the result is that employment is giverf to a number of 
 industrious Irish families f Now I should like Irish 
 frieze coats to become fashionable in America ; and I 
 should like every steamer from New York to bring an 
 order for at least one piece of Irish frieze. I have two 
 or three young fellows in my eye, who, if they were 
 to set the example, would compel all upper-tendom 
 to clothe itself in Irish frieze before a month. Great 
 care, however, must be taken that the frieze is Irish, 
 not English. In order, therefore, to make sure that 
 they get the true article, parties in New York should 
 send their orders through some frrend in Ireland who 
 would see it fairly executed. I know myself two or 
 three small tenant farmers, who can scarcely supply 
 all the orders that are pouring in on them for Irish 
 frieze. If any of my friends in New York — any good 
 Irishmen there — want good Irish frieze coats, let them 
 send an order for a piece of frieze. They can have 
 any quantity, from ten yards to a hundred. They 
 will have, in this way, the cheapest, most servicable, 
 and handsomest coats, and the satisfaction of having 
 shed a ray of comfort on an humble Irish home. 
 Come, now — don't all speak at once.' 
 
 WOEK FOE THE GENTLEMEN OF THE BlACK 
 
 Gown. — We are giveu to understand that the legal 
 gentlemen of the Leinsterbar are likely to be engaged 
 in a case of ' breach of promise,' connected with our 
 own county at the next assizis. It would seem that 
 a mercantile clerk, belonging to a metropolitan estab- 
 lishment, paid his addresses to, and won the affections 
 of a shopkeeper's daughter in one of the country towns 
 of this county, and the principal parties, as well as the 
 parents and friends of both, having mutually ar- 
 ranged all matters an I decided on the day when the 
 hap])y couple should plight their vows at the hymenial 
 altar, the young gentleman set off for Dublin, full of 
 joyful anticipations. But sliortly after his arrival 
 there he received a letter from the fair one's father, 
 making the disagreeable announcement that a change 
 had come over the spirit of his dream, that the union 
 could not be effected, and requesting all past events to 
 be forgotten. On this, the Lothario at once pcocecded 
 to the country to seek an explanation, and not receiv- 
 ing what he considered a satisfactory one, he again 
 returned to the metropolis and at once commcncSd 
 proceedings for a breach of promise. — Kilkatni/ Mod- 
 erator, 
 
 Areest pok Murder. — Head Constable Aubrey, 
 of Borrisokane, arrested Thomas Fogarty, under the 
 assumed name ol Egan, who is charged with the mur- 
 der of Philip Shanahan in Templemoro, in the month 
 
 of March. 1857, from which time he evaded the vigi- 
 lance of the police. — Ncnawj Guardian. 
 
 Bankbdpts. — George Ilanks, of Rathangan, coun- 
 ty Kildare, and of No. 1 Cumberland jjluce, city of 
 Dublin, miller, flour and corn merchant, to surrender 
 on Friday 22d day of January instant and on Friday, 
 the 12th day of February next. John O'Mears, of 
 Rathdowney, Queen's county, draper and shop-keeper, 
 to surrender on Monday, the 1 8th day of January, and 
 on Tuesday, the 9th day of Feb. next. 
 
 The first mercantile failure in Limerick has been 
 just announced — the suspension of an old and respect- 
 able firm, that of Mr. James Banatyne & Son, with li- 
 abilities set down at .£50,000. Some merchants here 
 are stated to be losers by this suspension, and others 
 in Kilrush; but the particulars are not precisely 
 known. The Bank of Ireland is set down at .£18,000. 
 Other failures are sure to follow. — Saunders. 
 
 At the Waterford Quarter Sessions, William Scan- 
 Ian was tried before Assistant Barrister Bessonett, for 
 having stolen a sum of .£40 belonging to Mr. Burke, 
 clerk of Waterford union. Constable McManus, of 
 the Cork Constabulary, was examined, and proved 
 having arrested the prisoner at the railway station in 
 Cork, and finding on his person £\ 18s. 7d., apassagc 
 ticket to America, and a key that opened the desk 
 from which he had abstracted the money. He was 
 sentenced to two years' imprisonment with hard la- 
 bor. 
 
 Return of Irish Emigrants. — For the last few 
 months persons who left this city as emigrants have 
 returned to their old employments in Kilkenny, and 
 caution their neighbors against venturing to Ameri- 
 ca at present. The story of desolation and death 
 which these poor emigrants relate is fearful, and we 
 hope it may serve as a caution to others to turn their 
 thoughts from emigration and cling to the rock in the 
 old country. — Kilkenny Journal. 
 
 The Crops. — 'The winter work is done everj'where, 
 and preparations for the spring work are being made 
 actively. It has been remarked to us, and we have 
 seen for ourselves, that there is a large amount of lea 
 ground in course of being turned up this year. Pro- 
 bably, the fall in stock has contributed greatly to the 
 fact, giving us, as it does, reason to believe that the 
 laborer will find abundance of employment during the 
 spring, summer and harvest. — Meath People. 
 
 Commercial Failures. — The failure of Mr. James 
 Taylor, spinner, of Carrickfergus, is no longer a ru- 
 mor ; and said to be brought down by this stoppage, 
 we have to report that Mr. Bristow Minnis, wholesale 
 grocer, of Bally mena, has failed. In some cases, we 
 hear of creditors being called together; and a very 
 great gloom and confusion are said to prevail in Bal- 
 lymena and neighborhood in consequence. — Northa-n 
 Whig. 
 
 On Thursday week, John McGowan, Esq., Mayor, 
 Returning Officer at the last borough election, and his 
 two deputies, Mr. Joseph FoUey and Mr. Hugh Con- 
 nellan, together with two poll clerks, Mr. William 
 Ward and Mr. John Bruen, entered each into security 
 before the resident magistrate, W. C. Morony, Esq., 
 to the amount in ilOO, to stand their trial at the ap- 
 proaching assizes, for a conspiracy to difraud certain 
 electors of the borough of their votes on the above me- 
 morable occasion. — Sliyo Independent. 
 
 Three men named Mahor, who reside at Shankhill, 
 have been committed for further examination, by 
 Thomas Brereton, Esq , R. M., charged with being 
 concerned in the recent attempt to assassinate Mr. 
 Denis Egan, when on his way to Dunkerrin chapel. 
 The first examination of the prisoners took place at 
 Dunkerrin, before Mr. Brereton, assisted by John Ju- 
 lian, Esq., Crown Solicitor for the King's county. 
 There are now four men in custody charged with this 
 offence, and there is every reason to expect that all the 
 parties concerned in it will be convicted and punished, 
 an exceinional conclusion in that county to an agra- 
 rian crime. 
 
 The Late Eneas Macdonnell, Esq. We are 
 a uthoriscd to stale that the papers and correspondence 
 of the late Eneas MacDonncl, Esq., were placed by 
 him, sometime previous to his decease, in the hands 
 of his son-in-law, Nicholas J. Gannon, Esq., of Lara, 
 with a view to his political life being embodied by that 
 gentleman in a form for publication ; and that it is the 
 intention of Mr. Gannon, to present the public with a 
 biography of his father-in-law at as early a date as pos- 
 sible. 
 
 Early Potatoes. Mr. Bourke, of 41 Harold's 
 cross, near Dublin, has .it present a plot of early po- 
 tatoes planted in October last, nearly a foot overground, 
 with new potatoes under them, nearly an inch in di- 
 ameter ; Bourke has for some years devoted consider- 
 able time and atiention to the raising of new varieties 
 of potatoes from seed, and has succeeded in producing 
 some remarkable ones for beauty of form, earliness of 
 maturity, and of excellent quality for table use. — Irish 
 farmer's Gazette. 
 
 Value of Land. — The farm of Cornelstown, as 
 in the occupation of the late Mr. James Leary, situate 
 in the parish of Dunboyne, consisting of 104 acres, 
 Irish plantatien measure, held by leases for an unex- 
 pired term of 20 years, sul ject to 32s. 6d. per acre, 
 was set up for the widow and executrix at the Metro- 
 politan Auction Hall, on Thursday last, by Mr. 
 Charles C. Farrell, and after a spirited competition, 
 was knocked down to James Spring, Esq., for 1,3501. 
 The only building on the farm was a small cottage 
 residence, without any stabling or offices. — Saunders. 
 
 Government Emigration. — Her Majesty's emi- 
 gration commissioners during the past year dispatched 
 seventy ships to the Australian colonies, viz ; — 33 to 
 Victoria, 25 to New South Wales, 11 to South Aus- 
 tralia, and 1 to Western Australia ; 33 sailed from 
 Liverpool, 26 from Plymouth, and 11 from South- 
 hampton. 
 
 4 mmm^ > 
 
 Landlordism in Donegal. A meeting to give 
 expression to the opinion created by the recent pro- 
 ceedings of certain landlords in the county Donegal, 
 will be held at Milford on the 21st inst. Mr. W. S. 
 Crawford, Mr. S. M. Greer, M. P., and other distin- 
 guished advocates of tenant right, being announced on 
 the occasion. 
 
 CARLETGN S BEST NOVEL. Tlie BLACK BARON- 
 ET; Or, the Chronicles of Ballytrahi. Mr. Doriahoc, 
 of BostoDj will issue from his Steam I'rinting rrc-^ses on 
 the 11th or February, the above liighly popuhir book. ■ The 
 foilowing are a few of f lie opinions of the Irish press upon 
 this very exciting and tlirilling story. 
 
 From the Dublin Freeman^ Journal. 
 " The public have been for sometime on the tiptoe of ex- 
 pectation lor Carleton's new work. They have been prom- 
 ised " Carleton's greatest work," and in this, too, their an- 
 ticipations have been fultilled. Tire "Black Baronet" is 
 reafiy Carleton's cke/detrurrr; and it will undoubtedly take 
 its place among the master-pieces of fiction. It is a pro- 
 duction in which Carlefon has surpassed himself." 
 From tilt DtiMin Kalian. 
 
 " Of all Carleton's Novels, this in our judgment is by far 
 the best. The " Black Baronet," had he written no other 
 work, would entitle Carleton to the foremost place among 
 our Irish novelists, for in the whole range of their pro- 
 ductions, they have not produced an\ thing to equal this." 
 From Ike DiiliUn Trlr'^rai^li'. 
 
 "Mr. Carleton holds in many respects, llic highest place 
 as a uational novelist, and if undenmlile jirouf of this were 
 still wanting, the avidilv with wliieli liis productions are 
 sought after and read in Iielaiid, would assli.ingly es- 
 tablish his title to pre-eniiiKiiee, as it would allcrd unde- 
 niable evidence or Ills pDpularitv as an accurate and faith- 
 ful delineator of the numners. cuslnnis, iiucU. ntiineiits of 
 his countrymen. The work before us is leplete uilh the 
 author's excellencies, whilst his defects, as a writer of lic- 
 tion, are fewer and more far between in this, than in any 
 of his previon.s works." 
 
 We might continue these extracts from the Irish press, 
 hut the above opinions of the leading joBrnals of the Irish 
 metropolis, wilisulfice to ehow wliat the work is that has 
 been published in Dublin, and re-produced, in beautiful 
 style, bv Ur. Donahoe, of Boston. The book is cmbellish- 
 eil with' two engravings, and is sold for the low price of 
 sevenlv-tive cent.s. 
 
 I; ;•' It « ill lir .-eiil (o any part of the United .States and 
 British l'ii--r.~i.iii-. iio.-tagc paid, ou the reception of seveu- 
 tv-live e.nt- in - .ps. 
 
 •.^Clutt- ina\ be loinied in cities or towns for the book. 
 To clubs of si.x, the b.iok will be.-eiit for S3..W. Clubs of 
 twelve, Si;,flO. In each case, the j)ei-son ordering for the 
 club must pay e.xpens)' (d" traii.sportation. 
 
 i'aTI;1( K Ini.NAIloE, 23rranklin St., 
 [FoK Sale uv all Bookselleus.] Boston. 
 
 T 
 
 l.KP— To u small family. Half a House at No. 17 
 Wheeler's Court. Icbl3 
 
14 
 
 IRISH MI8CELLA>Y. 
 
 UTERATUBE. 
 
 LECTURK^; Asn ESSAYS: Ity Hiumiy Giles, 2 vol*-— 
 Botftou: Tiukuor, Uvvil k FieltlM. 
 
 Tho>* volumes contain n ."erif,-" of Ixwtiires nnd Eisayn, 
 dellvt-ml l.v oiircntintiMiimi. Ilriirv t.iU's. as In* iiirorm» 
 iiH ill flu- nfrfuc.N ■■ ill niiMMl itiul imimiur i»>M'ml.Iif-.' uiiil 
 am |iul>lihlK'.l at ili.- .l.>iir ..i liiMuliiiii.ru in \ in nui> ninety, 
 who wt-ivuiixiMii-. tlitii Ihi' tnittiriil iiitd i'l»uiu-nl i-il.>itMil' 
 thit iiopiilur urittMi- una jirval scholiir slu.iihl 1.,- i-lu.-i'tl iii 
 ^uluul•lnlUlinK' lorni. Tliiiv in iiu innn in Am. i icii \\ Iiuh> 
 hcarl Ih'hIi* tniLT to Irvluiid— no inun iKi>-i"inK' uu>rv of 
 tlititimtltu wit mid clo<juence for n tiich our ctumin niun 
 liavt' in ttll ii^i'-s tn-fn »o rvmitrkahlf — fi-w ni.n wlio'slu'd 
 f;rcMtcr honor upon tilt* old Inn.l 1>\ Ihi- >|iKMi(lnr of their 
 cciiiti.H or thi* power of thrir flotitienoo (liiiii llinrv (^>ih-s. 
 llvTv nru tiouie puttfu^iM from his '- Spirit of Irish iiUtory." 
 yVEEN EUZAIICTII. 
 ** The ago of EUzntH-th. which was to Europe the dnwu of 
 mniiy hopct— this agv of Elimboih, which wns so ndonicd 
 and to eiirlchud with ull tlint makes itii age Imn^ccndcnt — 
 this age uf Ell/nbeth wus only for Ireland a heavy and a 
 starless ui^hl. The government of Elizabeth, which Imd 
 so much glory for Englnnd, gave no promise to Iivlaiid. — 
 Under the 8way of ElJzabetli, Ireland lay in tempest and in 
 waste. l>ppresi»ion, timt makes wise men mad, will pro- 
 TOke even despair to resistance, and resistance whs obstin- 
 ate and fVe()ueut in Ireland to the rulers whom Kli:£ubeth 
 aet above them. Itesistancc was put down by methods the 
 most inhuman; the crops were destroyed, dwelling-houses 
 burned, the population indiscriminately massacred, famine 
 the most terrible ensued, and hunger withered those whom 
 the sword had spared. The people were slaughtered, but 
 notsuUlued; the soil was not enriched, but ravaged; no 
 arts arose; no principles of wealth or liberty were devel- 
 oped; life was unsafe; and property in the true sense was 
 scarcely known. Even the stony heart of Elizabeth at 
 length was touched; humanity, for once, shot a pang to 
 her breast. " Alas, alas:" she cried; " I fear lest it be ob- 
 jected to us, as it was to Tiberius, concerning the Dalma- 
 tian conimutious— you, you, it is who are to blame, who 
 have committed your flock, not to shepherds, but to wolves." 
 And to wolves, they were still committed. Such was the 
 rigor of the ordiuory government, that a deputy of the 
 most common kindness, gained the worehip of the unhap- 
 py Irish, and became hatelbl to the jealous queen; so that 
 the gratitude of the people ruined, at the same time, their 
 benefactors and themselves. And yet, this age of Elizabeth 
 wos a glorious a;?e. Everywhere but in Ireland, it was lill- I 
 
 In revenge and retribution during the turrible insurrection 
 of 1041, which occurred in the reign of thin man's i^on.— 
 Deadly pas>ions mingled together In the strife, nselcnieuts 
 in the hurricane; and the blood of reformer and the blood 
 of Konninist, swelled the common tori-ent. England, loo, 
 became convulsi-d with trouble. Charles endeavored to In* 
 gntliute the Irish, and to a considerable extent he suc- 
 ceeded. But, their assistance availed tlieunhappy monarch 
 nothing; and ere his blood wa» wellnigh clotted on the 
 block, they Imd Cromwell of the iron hand, dealing death 
 upon themselves." 
 
 He next gives tills graphic sketch of the ruthless 
 
 CROMWELL. 
 "It is not my province, here, even If my power nnswerc*! 
 to the task, to draw a complete moral porti'uit of Cromwell. 
 I urn simply to speak of him in relation to Ireland; and, in 
 that relation, he was a steel-hearted exterminator. I have 
 no inclination to deny him grandeur, and if I hud, the gen- 
 eral verdict would stand independently of my inclination. 
 Whether the morati.st approve, or whether he condemn, 
 the world always enthrones will, and power, and success; 
 and that which it enthrones, it w*orshtps. How much in 
 Cromwell was the honesty of a patriot, how much was the 
 policy of tt designer; how much was purity, how much was 
 ambition, which so predominated, the evil or the good, as 
 to constitute his character; this will probably be decided 
 in opposite directions by opposite parties to the end of his- 
 tory. Whatever be the decision ou the man, measured as a 
 whole, the facts of his career in Ireland show him to have 
 been most cruel and most sanguinary. 
 
 Nor are these facts inconsistent with our general idea of 
 the dictator's character. A dark compound of the daring 
 soldier and the religious zealot, unitiug in one spirit the 
 austerest attributes of each, stern in purpose, and rapid in 
 execution, he was the man for a mission of destruction. — 
 The Irish, on many accounts, were peculiarly hateful to 
 him. They were the adherents of deleated royalty. They 
 were not simply prclatists, which were in itself offensive; 
 but they were papists, and that was hideous iniquity. They 
 were not only aliens, they were worse than aliens; they 
 were outcasts, the doomed of prophecy, the sealed of Anti- 
 christ. They were the modern Canaanites, and he was the 
 modern Joshua, the anointed of the Lord, to deal judgment 
 the reprobate; and judgment he dealt with veugeani 
 
 cd with power and with promise. From the death of Mary | with vengeance that knew no touch of mercy. His track 
 to that of James the First, was a i)eriod such as comes but 
 seldom, and when it comes such as makes an era. A migh- 
 ty life was palpitating among the nations; the head of civ- 
 ilized humanity was tilled with many speculations, and the 
 heart was beating with marvellous fancies and magnanim- 
 ous passions. Genius and glory had burst as a flood of 
 light upon the world. The feudal system was passing away. 
 The ann of its oppression had been broken, but its high- 
 bred courtesy yet remained; its violence was repressed, but 
 its heroic spirit had not been quenched. The courage of the 
 savage warrior had given way before the chivalry of the hu- 
 nianer soldier. The dominion of superstition, too, had been 
 broken, but a rigid utilitarianism liad not yet taken place. 
 The spectres of night had vanished, but dreams of the won- 
 derful and the lovely still hovered around imagination.— 
 The earth was not bare, nor the heavens empty. The mer- 
 chant nnd the money-changer began to rule the city; but 
 t^ueen Mab was not yet dethroned. She had yet her fairy 
 empire in the green-wood shade; she had yet her dancing 
 in the moon-lit glen. The practical had not yet banished 
 the romantic, and the soul had her philosophy, as well as 
 the senses. Columbus had opened new worlds, and the 
 old worid hailed him as the 3Ioscs of the seas. Dreams 
 o( sunny regions; of Edens in the desert; of El Doradoes 
 in the troadlcis hills, wafted longing fancies from olden 
 homes, and thoughts flew fast and far on the crest of the 
 wave and the wingR of the wind. Learning started from 
 leaden sleep to earnest life. Philosophy pourvd forth her 
 eloquent wisdom; and the thoughtful listened with enrap- 
 ture<Icar. I'oetry was lilting the earth with her music;— 
 and Fiction was delighting mankind with rarxj enchant- 
 ment; and Keligion was busying all brains with her sol- 
 emn and profound discoursing. Bacon was sounding the 
 depths of human intellect, and calling from their silence 
 the energies of endless progression. Shak.«pearc was shap- 
 ing, to enduring beauty, those wondrous creations which 
 embody the universal life of man. Cen-antes, the glorious 
 Spaniard, in soul a.brotlier to the glorious Briton, had sent 
 forth among men's fancies. Don Quixote and Sancho Pan- 
 za: thehigh-dreamingknight, and the low-thinking squire; 
 the grave in comimuy with the grotesque, a goodly image 
 of humanity for everiasUng laughter and evcriasting love." 
 
 Here is a picture of another royal tyrant. 
 JAMES THE I. 
 
 ''James of Scotland, the successor of his mother's slay- 
 er, treated unfortunate Ireland with no gentler policy— 
 ■Without accu.*ation of sedition or rebellion, he alienated 
 six counties from their owners, and colonized them with 
 his countrymen. The outcasts wandered on their own soil 
 ao strangers and as vagabonds. Fearful deeds wer« done 
 
 in Ireland may be followed over ruins which yet seem IVesh, 
 AVe can trace him as we do a ravenous animal, by the 
 blotches where he lay to rest, or by the bloody fragments 
 where he tore his prey. The Irish peasantry still speak ol 
 this man with those vivid impressions, which, of all pas- 
 sions, terror alone can leave. They allude to him in the 
 living phraseology, which only that can prompt which 
 moves us nearly, and, therefore, moves us strongly; they 
 allude to him, not as if he were a shadow in the dimness ol 
 two centuries, but as if he were an agent of recent days. 
 Stop, as you pass a laborer on the roadside iu Ireland ; ask 
 him to tell you of tlie ruin before you on the hill. You will 
 hear him describe it in language far more poetical and far 
 more pictnresque than I can copy, but somewhat in man- 
 ner such as this: — 
 
 " Och, sure, that's the castle o' the Cogans, that Crom- 
 well, the blackguard, took away from them. But maybe 
 they didn^t tight, while flghtin' was in them, the poor fel- 
 lows; barrin' there's no strivin' agin the devil, the Lord 
 presarve us, and everybody knows that Cromwell, bad win 
 to him, was hand and glove w id the ouldboy ; niusha, faix 
 he was, as sure as there's fish in the say, or pigs iu Con- 
 naught. Theie's the hill where the wagabond planted his 
 cannon. There's the farm which the Blancys got for scllin' 
 the Pass, the white-livered tliraitors; there's the brachc 
 which he made in the walls, where brave Square Cogan— a 
 bed in heaven to his soul — was killed, wid his six flue dnr- 
 lint sons, as strappin' boys as you'd meet in a long sum- 
 mer's day. Och, wirra, wirra, struh ; bud Cogan was a man 
 it would do your heart good to see; my vardi,avit wouldu't 
 keep the fVosht out of your stomacli the blackest day in 
 winther; fbll and pUnty were in his house, and the poor 
 niver went inipty from his door; as I heard my grandmother 
 say, that heard it fVom bcr grandmother, that, be the same 
 token, was Cogan's cousin. Och, bud, with fair lightin' 
 Cogan didn't fear the face of man, and, sure enough, when 
 Cromwell commanded him to surrender, be tould iufarnal 
 copiiemose, he'd ate his boots first; throth he would, and 
 his stockings afther, av there's the laste use in it; bud the 
 man's not born'd of woman, that can stand against a whelp 
 of hell; and, av ould Nick iver had a son, my word for it 
 bud his name was Oliver.'' 
 
 Mr. Giles next describe^) the Stuart's and the fatal conse- 
 quence resulting to Ireland from her devotion, to that 
 house of royal imbecile'', and ill-fated monarchs: but we 
 paaa to the I'ollowing account of the siege and 
 
 TUE.VTY' OF LIMEUICK. 
 
 *'The fortunes ot James received their first blow at the 
 siege of Derrj' in the north; were staggei-ed at the battle ot 
 the Boyne, midway in the kingdom: and were fatally deci- 
 ded at tbe taking of Limerick iu tbe south. The iiUl of 
 
 Limerick closed the war. James had fled; and William re- 
 mained the victor. Limerick did not go out of the contest 
 ignominiously. Even the women threw themselves Into the 
 bix'uch, and for that time saved the city; nor did the city 
 itself, surrender, but on terms which comprehended the 
 whole of Ireland. Limerick capitulated on the part of all 
 the Irish Catholics. The capitulation was but signed, when 
 a large French fleet appeared in the river, with extensive 
 supplies and numerous reinforcements. But with the good 
 fuilh of honorable men, flfteen thousand laiil down their 
 arms, and were true to their engHgeiiients. The terms of 
 this treaty were fair and advantageous. They secured to 
 the Catholics tho right of property, of liberty, and of 
 conscience, and all things seemed to augur well for peace, 
 for unity, and for hsppinc^s. 
 
 Had the victors been merciful with power, and generous 
 with success, had they been just, nay hod they been wisely 
 politic, Ireland might have been tianquilized, and her pros- 
 perity might have commenced. But it was an age of fac- 
 tion, and faction was true to its vilest instincts. The leg- 
 islation that followed this event, was intensely exclusive, 
 and it was exclusively Protestant. The whole power of tho 
 country was in the hands of a Protestant aristocracy. — 
 The first action then, of the Parliament in Ireland, after 
 the reduction of Limerick, was to annul the treaty of 
 Limerick, a treaty as solemn as any that history records; 
 a treat}' mode in the face of armies, and which pledged the 
 faith of nations. And, not only that, but it was followed 
 by a code of laws, which would have been a shame upon 
 the reign of Nero; a code of laws which made, at one time, 
 the Catholic religion a capital oflence; and which, when 
 greatly mitigated, denied to Catholics the means of educa- 
 tion, the claims of property, and the rights of citizens. — 
 Legislation like this wos of course, disastrous. Strange, 
 indeed ; if it were not, history were a lie, and all exporieuco 
 a dream; if it w^ not, human nature were, itself, a con- 
 founding delusion. It was disastrous to the Protestant re- 
 ligion, which it protended to support; it was disastrous to 
 the interests of England, which it promised to maintain; it 
 was disastrous, also, to the unhappy people whose energies 
 it crushed; but that the law of compensation should not 
 utterly fail — that some evidence should be given to earth, 
 that even on earth crime does not go uupuuishod — it was 
 disastrous to its enactors. 
 
 Man can never separate himself from his fellows. He can 
 never make their evil his good. The darkness which he 
 draws upon his country, will overshadow his own home; 
 and the misery which he prepares for his neighbor, will be 
 misery for himself. So it was with the authors of these evil 
 laws; so it ever must be, while moral right binds actions to 
 appropriate consequence, while a God of eternal justice 
 governs the world by principles which are as immutable as 
 they are holy. The possessions which rapine had acquired, 
 and which wrong controlled, did not give such return as 
 the covetous heart desired. By confiscation, by penalties, by 
 all modes of harsh restriction, the kingdom was <jrained of 
 its native intelligence and native strength. Wealth of sen- 
 timent, wealth of capital, wealth of skill, wealth ofindustry, 
 wealth of muscle, were driven from the country, or paraly- 
 zed within it. The high chivalry which generous treatment 
 would have retained, directed foreign courts, commanded 
 foreign armies; while a hardy yeomanry that indulgence 
 could have made loyal forever, carried bravery to the ranks 
 of England's enemies, and labor to their markets. 
 
 Ct7*We shall present to our readers in our next number, 
 a series of life like portraits of distinguished Irishmen, 
 from the pen of this graphic writer, among which will bo 
 those of Grattan, Currau, and Combe. 
 
 A Laroe Cavk Explored —A fViend in Ohio county 
 writes us an account of the exploration of « remarkable 
 cave in that county. An entrance to the cave wos effected 
 through a narro%v passage about thirty feet long, which 
 opened into an egg-shaped room, about thirty feet long and 
 fifteen high. The exploring party visited through various 
 passages, five other rooms, in one of which was a small set- 
 ofl'as if made by man, and on it were three books ond sev- 
 eral letters, none of which the gentlemen could make out. 
 They also found in this room silver}- -looking metal that had 
 been run into lumi)S. In another room they found human 
 bones. It is the intention of the gentlemen engaged in 
 this exploration to make a more thorough examination of 
 this cave. Our correspondent thinks it will prove to be as 
 extensive a cave as the mammoth. — LouisviUt Journal. 
 
 A propek medium. 
 
 Juiius. — Where you been, dis long time, Miss Johnson? 
 
 Miss Johnson.—Lor.i's bee in heaven, I is — 'mong de stars 
 — (^s you see i's a mejum, I is— a spirit mejumi 
 
 Julius.— Ya\i ! yah ! yah I Dat is putty good, dat am a fac' ! 
 Look heah, tell me dis: D'y see any colored folks dere? 
 
 AHss Johson. — Lor', Julius, you don't suppose I went- into 
 de kitchen does ye? Yah! yah: yah: yah! 
 
 An administrator on the estate of a deceased female, in 
 New Hamp.'ihire. advertises for sale at auction, ''The wear- 
 ing apparel of 31 I'S. A O .deceased, consisting' ^ 
 
 one bed, two carpets, and one sleigh.'' ;t ^ 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 15 
 
 ADVEBTISEMEBTTS. 
 
 
 hS^^^^ 
 
 AMUSEMENTS. 
 
 illIEKS, I'lCI.L & lIUN'n.Ey'S JIIN- 
 lIl'ItttA JiOUSK — tjuliool Sticct, oin)osito 
 
 FriuiUlin M.ii u 
 
 Tlu.,llM,ir( ,„„, 
 1!U1U',-.|1K' lOlllH.l.. 
 .lull. -Itll, ISjS, lilR 
 vlliy ArifiiUMiii III! 
 
 11.. l':-. 
 
 l,l;,,. ., ... . 
 
 16 ce'iils. 
 
 QIr"Doors open at 6 3-4 o'clock ; performance commenc- 
 iiiL'at71-2. LON MOKIUS & J. T. HUNTLEY, 
 
 lebl3 tf ISusiuuss Muiiagerp. 
 
 IKISII .MISi 
 JMll, .!.,> ..I 
 
 PBOSPECTUS. 
 
 i:i.i.,\\>\ 
 
 li..rl l.> ruuaiil- tliis the 
 ilihiu uiuler ten ycai'6, 
 
 ''■(..-, n.i S:i)ur{hly tlio 
 
 ill I..' iH.lili-L.'.l Mie nrst 
 
 X nii.'klv |j..Ti...li.;:il, uiih 11..' above title, 
 
 clillusioil Ola more intinmie knowledge ot 
 
 politiciil histoiy of IluloilU, and tu the 
 
 iiil political elevation of tlie Celtic race oii 
 
 ■ ■ ';■"'""■ «in . -Ml., ],:.-.■,; i.f closely 
 
 [.UUWAV HALL, Washington street, nearly oppo.« 
 Mhe "UlU South." Ninth Kegular Season. Mauag 
 
 ICYi-MXfi This "SVkj-k 
 ■.,.11 Cl.iisty S: Wi.<:..ls' 
 
 lll,L\>,,s'.' t' 
 kels lii cents 
 at G 3-4 
 
 soil 
 
 ■s. Bowers & Kiul- 
 Is), the celebratcil 
 i.iiictlou with Ord- 
 ir bills eaeh'day. 
 
 Children lialipiicc. 
 
 'clock : To commence at 7 1-2. tl3 
 
 Str. 
 
 T;1(IUNTA1N house. ATKMI'EHAKCI.; tlOl'UL, c.h 
 X* ner of Jlarrrisoii Avenue and lieacli Slrei'ls, jiear 111 
 Worcester and Old Colony itailroad Ueiiol, IJostou. 
 
 Teusis— One dollar and twenty-live cents per day. 
 
 febl3 H. V. GARDKEli, M. D., Proprietor. 
 
 PJUIKRIS, Al'OTIlECAEY, Corner Federal andPur- 
 . [chase streets, foot of Summer street, IBuSToa. 
 Strict personal attention paid to compoiindin;.' I'hysician's 
 Prescriptions. A choice selection of Fa .mi i.y .AIi;i>k inkjs 
 constantly on hand. A well selected St. .ok of genuine im- 
 ported P'erfumeiy and Fancy Goods. Soda Water with 
 choice Svrup.-'. A large assortment of Genuine lla\ana 
 
 X. KETING. Dksigxeh and Esgraaek on Wood, 
 , No. 2 Spring Lji.e, I'.oSToK. At Jackson & Foynes. 
 
 Win' BUKN (iAS r.Y llAYLIGHT ? STEPHEN 
 HUE & (.11.. Iiiveiili.rs and Manufacturers of the 
 Imfuoved I>ayi.I'J1it ItEFLECTOK, for difl'using the 
 healthy light of day into all dark places. Ko. 23 State St., 
 
 Boston, and No. 34 Park street. Baltimore 
 N. 15. Call and see it in operation. 
 
 6m 
 
 febl3 
 
 G 
 
 ilLMl IKE'S SALE5I Q UADEILLE BAND. E. UP- 
 
 ""foN, Jr.. Prompter. Apply to P. S. Gilmoke. Es- 
 
 louse, S.\LEJt, Mass. 3m febl3 
 
 State Street, Boston, couducted upon the European 
 ilan. 
 
 Cv^'Rooms. per day— 50 cents. Lodging— 25 cents. 
 
 P. S. After the 1st ot April next, iilr. Dooley will move 
 his New Hotel, No. 25 Portland street. feblS 
 
 w 
 
 Il.LIAM MANNINii, Sexton & Funeral Under- 
 T.\KERof tile liorohester Catholic Cemetery, would 
 inform his friends and the public, that he keeps constantly 
 on hand and manufactures to oi-der, cotiins of all sizes and 
 kinds, at hi.S'cotiin wareroom, Ko. 1 Davis St., Roxbury. 
 
 Grave clothes of various .iiialitics for sale, and coHin plates 
 engraved at slu.rt notice. .*- Uric..- of (.raves, ?f3.50. 
 
 (UPEItli I'.l 
 ) attention ii 
 nl, to theirs 
 The f..lli.wii 
 
 iIi.N'b 
 
 li. & 
 
 ^.■11. Ts. 
 
 .ll.i-li. 
 
 .1. .-<.\tiLli;i;& C(.l., invite tl 
 l)..al..'i>. and till' juiblic ill gel 
 11 of Slunilnril Catholic Works 
 l.iti..ii of Prayer Books, iiub- 
 f His Eminence Cardinal Wise- 
 ist.-r. and the Most Key. John 
 
 lished 
 
 man, Arel.bish.,|/.,|- W'.-tiii 
 
 Hughes. D. D.. Ai.l.lii-i.,,1. 
 
 GOLDEN .1I.\M I.I. : I 
 tions public an. I j.i iv .ii.-. r 
 ill any languaL'.*. 1 1 -i.-. I e 
 
 THE WAYltJ Ui;A\'i;j 
 for daily use. U steel engra 
 S20. 
 
 BUTLER'.S LIVES OF THE SAINTS: 4 Volumes, 8vo., 
 29 engravings, from 85 to Slt3. 
 
 GARDEN OF TH E SOUL ; A manuel of fervent prayers, 
 for the use of Catholics. 10 steel engravings. Price, from 
 60 cents to S3. 
 
 THE PAl li TO PARADISE: Or, Way of Salvation.— 
 
 rape 
 
 ilile. 
 
 Corner Milk 
 febl3 
 
 D( I'Kt II IvKE. respectfully informs his friends and the 
 , ].iil.lie, that he keeps constantly on hand COl'l'INS 
 .fall si/.s and kinds, at his Coltin 'Manufactory, No. .347 
 "ederal. between Beach and Kneeland Streets, Boston, 
 ihich he will sell as reasonable as can be boughtat any otU- 
 r place in the city. 
 
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 li^iTJSic B"^5r xi. s. TKon^v^FSOisr. 
 
 ANUAXTK CON KSPRFJSSIOXE. 
 
 rarewell to thee, Irclaiul, the land ot oiu- birth, The pride and the eIo - ry, the ceni of the 
 
 _ I _ I I 
 
 - _J: _^- _^- --^- -^- • • =^- -^- -•- 
 
 U Kittird. 
 
 earth ; We sail with sad hearts to a laud far a - way, 
 
 In search of that breail tliat may . fail if we 
 
 
 iizrzz=:T:-zz=inr:T:z::^z:^iz* r 
 
 
 \ 
 
 
 stay ; New fa - ces glow bright 
 
 ^ cz), 
 
 of our fires, And the Sax - on 
 
 bides 
 
 in the halls of our 
 
 
 
 
 Sires. Farewell, oh farewell to thy beau - ti - ful shore ; 'Tis with tears that we bid thee 
 
 ^ _ ^ 
 
 I shore ; 'Tis with 
 
 5 5 Iz 2 -S- S- =*, 
 
 ^ij:=^=¥ 
 
 -Hz -^ 
 
 - — >.. 
 
 ^-r- -f:|-i[-f — ^"-: 
 
 3zEld:izM^l3=5EE?E;fe=:: 
 
 
 2. 
 
 3. 
 
 We've courage to lead us ; there's strength in our hands, 
 There's wealth to l>e won in far distant lands ; 
 For us and our children arc acres to spare, 
 And the names of our fathers f irbids to despair. 
 There arc homes in the world for the honest and free, 
 And republics and kingilnnis to found o'er the sea ; 
 Farewell, oh farewell to thy time honored shore, 
 Erin, dear Erin, farewell evennoro. 
 
 Farewell, oh farewell I in the land where we go 
 Our hearts deep affection shall ligliten our woe, 
 Thy manners, and customs, thy faith and thy fame. 
 Shall follow our footsteps and flourish the same. 
 Thy customs sliall live in the land that we sing. 
 And tlie tales that wo tell, to thy glory shall cling; 
 Farewell, oh farewell to thy time honored sliorc ; 
 'Tis with tears that we bid thee fiirewell evermore. 
 
 EnCend according U> Act of Congress, in the jm 1«M, by JACKSOS 8c FOTSES, In tho Clerk'a Ollco of tho Uiatrict Court for tUo District of M»3WChu«;t«. 
 
^«= 
 
 VOLUME I.— NUMBER 2. ] 
 
 BOSTON, SATURDAY, FEBRUARY 20, 1858. 
 
 [ PRICE FOUR CENTS. 
 
 HISTORICAL 
 NOTICE or TIIE CITY OF DUBLIN. 
 
 The period of the found,ition of our city is involved 
 in as nnch oliseai-ity as the etymology of its name. — 
 It may easily be supposed tlint men would congregate 
 at such a convenient spot for fishino: and commerce as 
 the ridge of land that rose above the last place where 
 the LiFFEY was fordalilc, before it joined the sea ; and 
 therefore it is very probable that tucli a position, pre- 
 ienting meaas of safety and support, of ofteace and 
 
 defctice, w■^s very easily seized on. The geographer 
 Pfolemy, pliiees (A.D. 1+0.) a town exactly in the 
 parallel of Dublin, and calls it " Civitas Kblana." — 
 Our city therefore has a just claim to antiquity of sev- 
 enteen centuries. But we are inclined to suppose that 
 though the Greek coimographer had good reason to 
 lay down su''li a ])lace as " Civitas Ehlana." yet it is 
 to the ViKiNGAK — pirates, or " Sea-Kings,"- of Scan- 
 dinavia — that the settlement of Ddhlin, as a place of 
 commerce, and as a furtified town, may he attrib- 
 uted. 
 
 These hold intelligent Ostmen, (as the Scandinavi- 
 ans were called by the Iri^h, because they came from 
 a comparatively Eastern county), saw that Dublin 
 harbor was one of tlje best, and the river Lid'ey one 
 of the most commodious, and the valley of Dnblin 
 one of the most fertile in the island. They therefore 
 selected this central position, and landed iheir troops, 
 where, according to custom, they erected a fortified 
 Rath ; and on that ridge that hangs over the lowest 
 ford of the LifFey, on the exact spot where the Cathe- 
 dral of Christ's Church now stands, they excavated 
 
 TIIE CUbTOM UOUSL AND HARBOR 01 DLt.tJN. 
 
 ^nnlts or ori-pts, in one of which St. PATUicir, the 
 ipostle of Ireland, is said to have celebrated the sacred ' 
 )fBees of hi< rc'igion.* Here they deposited the ])ro- ' 
 luce of their comnif:rce and their plunder, and u'cd j 
 a retreat to them on occasion of any sudden invasion | 
 )f their enemies. 
 But very probably, it is to the sea-king, Avellanus, 
 
 •Over one of these early Dutch vaults or foniices, or 
 -rypty, ."sanctified. a.s tnulition sav*'. by the consecration of 
 5t. I'airick, .Sictncuf. son of Avollaiiuj. king of tlie 0.«t- 
 ncu of Dublin, built Chiist-s Cliiiicli. TI.ere are ptill ma- 
 ny of these ui.dergrouud Danisli depositories iu IrcUiud, of 
 
 that we owe the establiOiment of our city as a place of 
 military and commercini importance. He, wi-h his 
 bieihren, Sitcrick and Yvoriis, having heard from their 
 roving countrymen of the fertility and cn])abilities of the 
 green western isle, landed a fresh swarm from the Bai- 
 lie, and proceeded to win, hy their swords or their pol- 
 icy, a settlement in Ireland. Yvorus, who was doubt- 
 
 wliicli wo may proboblv give ifomc account in our .lournnl. 
 Ill tlie coiiiitv ..Miltiiii Wf linve icon them, where thcv nro 
 cnlled I'ictVliolcs. Witliin six miles of Dublin, mid luljoin- 
 iuKtlic benutind \ illiiRc of I.ucim, tbfie w n due nr.d com- 
 umudiiig Danish Itntb, iu the ccutic of which there is one 
 
 loss the more cautious of the three, and liad a good 
 military eye, pitched on Limerick ; Sitcrick, struck 
 with the great commercial ndvanlages that the junc- 
 tion ot the Nore, the Suir, and the B^irrow, presented 
 sailed up that line eslnary, and landed at Wnrcrfonl ; 
 but Avellanus, with the eye of a king, saw nt once 
 that neither the waters of the Shannon or the Snir 
 
 oftliosc nrtiticinl caves spoken of iihove. A^out twenty 
 years apo, tlic author of this article was slionii ii very liiigo 
 and double circular csivo in the side of (lie bill t'otween 
 Kuthcoolc and Nnus. u few hundred j ards I'l oiu the leu-mile 
 stone iu that line of road. 
 
18 
 
 llUSll M1SC1■:LLA^'V. 
 
 would answer liis purpose ; and so lie selected Ihut spot 
 whore tlio AwN'-LiKFKV c-ciisi'il to be navigable, anil 
 on the riiriii); ground that rose from its southern bank, 
 lie ]iliintcd liiniKpll', convinced that if ever Irclniul was 
 to conic under the sway of one iiionarch, it wouM Iwj- 
 comc the scat ot the metropolis of the island. Siaiii- 
 hurst,on tlio authority of Ginildus Camlironsis, as- 
 sorts that the ciiy owes its name to this Avallenus.and 
 Willi ttic license of an etymologist dcdiiies it in this 
 way : — 
 
 Avellana — Kbiana — Dublana. 
 lUit ihissnrcly cannot be the derivation: for Ptolemy, 
 upwards of six hundred years before, called it Eblana 
 Civitns. Probably the author of ilie life of St. Kevin 
 gives the best derivation. Speaking about St. Gar- 
 ban, he says, " be lived near Aith Cliath, which is also 
 called by the Irish, Dinii Liex, signifying the dark 
 bath." Now any one who observes the Littey niny 
 see good R-ason why the ford o^er this unusually dark 
 flowing stream might bo culled the blacl- bathing place.* 
 
 Stjinihaust, with his usual (|uuinlness, in cummcnt- 
 ing on the wise choice of Avellaiius, says, " The Dane 
 did well — for our city is of all sides jileasant, comfort- 
 able, and wholesome ; if you would traverse hills they 
 are not far oft"; if chainpaifrn ground, it lieth of all 
 ]>arts ; if you be delighted with water, the famous riv- 
 er called the Litley, named of Ptolemy Lybinum, run- 
 neth fast by; if you will take a view of the sea, it is 
 at band." 
 
 The Ostmen, then, may be considered as the found- 
 ers and colonizers of Dublin, as indeed they were of 
 the most important towns in Ireland, such as Cork, 
 Watcrford, Limerick, &c., for the same Slanihnrst ob- 
 serves that '■ until the arrival of the Danes, such 
 means of strength the Irish had not, for until these 
 days they knew no defence but woods, bogs, and 
 strokes." The colonization of the Danes in Dublin 
 and other maritime places had no doubt a great clFcct 
 on the character of the Irish. Their commerce with 
 the Ostmen in peace made them more acquainted with 
 the wants of civilized life, and their contests in war 
 made them more cxjiert in the art of attack and de- 
 fence. But nothing could cHect a continued unity of 
 purpose among the Irish chieftains. The Danish king, 
 acting under the same wily jjolicy as the English us- 
 ed long afterwards in India, at one time mediated l)e- 
 twcen the contending chiefs, and at another time sided 
 with the weakest, occasionally jjrotectcd a usurper, or 
 set himself up as the avenger of blood. Thus did he 
 establish his influence, and strengthen his kingdom ; 
 and long after the Danish power was broken in the in- 
 terior of the island, the Ostmen still remained firm in 
 Dublin. In vain did the Airdrigh (Monarch) call to- 
 gether the Kigbcgs (petty kings; to unite in expelling 
 the stranger from their shores. The Dubh Gael and 
 the Pin Gacl,t (for so in these days were the Norwe- 
 gians distinguished from the Danes) still kept jiosses- 
 sion of their atrong hold, Dublin, and the surrounding 
 territory; and not even the just vengeance of O'Jlc- 
 laglin, king of Meath, nor the Munster confederacy, 
 cemented by the talents and the military prowess of 
 Brian Boro, could etlect the jjuriiose. It was reserved 
 for those mailed warriors, the Normans, who had ac- 
 quired by their settlement in France, and their achiev- 
 ments in Itidy, all the arts of civilized warfare, and 
 the discipline connected with chivalrous training, with- 
 out losing any of their Scandinavian hardihood, to up- 
 set the Ostmen power in Dublin. 
 
 Daring the period immediately preceding the Anglo- 
 Norman comiucst, the Danes or Ostmen of Cork.Liin- 
 
 The other and more nnciciil name Bi/'y Aih Cliuih, the 
 town of llie fordol Imrdles, nrosu from n common riraclice 
 oltliL'Insli whousiil 80 make muddv rivei». siicli as the 
 J.miy was, near its junction witli the sea, niid nuar tlic bocs 
 SAl. ""T "'•./"'■''j'''>' ■;> ""'""■'' <"■ biirdlcs or kislies laid 
 
 i,?w ,1, „•■>'• "'"l,''"' more mischief tliaii jwrhans (hose who 
 ™ 1 r^**";- " "'"»«>". ol-loi-fbe coarse ol rivers was im- 
 peded: bogs lormcd, and swamps established. 
 
 .i,tT'!f J."I *'"'■' ";"* !*'.•'*■'' '" «'">• •"■""'J »"<• ftrtile plain 
 that slrulclKs north of tia- Liircy, until it niLcts the hi.'li 
 )m»l.s that Imiip over the Hoyi.c. Tlie ii.hahitnnts of th ., 
 
 eddillercuet-rron; the natives of Mcutfi and Louth. 1.01 onJy 
 in their habits ot industry, but also in tlieir personal aij. 
 
 aud «eit of Oublm, jouiine Wicklow and Kildarv. 
 
 crick, and Waterford, more especially of Dublin, living 
 under a polity, civil, military and ecclesiastical, quite 
 distinct from the Milesian kingdoms into which Ire- 
 land was divided, kept up an active and close corres- 
 pondence wiih their kindled settlements in the Isle of 
 Man, the Orkneys, and England. A barbarous and 
 insulting murder first brought the Anglo-Normans to 
 the Danish gates. Derinoi M'Murrongh, in revenge 
 for the assassination of his father, (whom the citizens 
 of Dublin hud invited to a f^ast, and taking advantage 
 of his security, not only slew him, but buried his body 
 •in a dunghill along with n dog), joined with the Nor- 
 mans, comrannded by the rcdoiibtttblo Miles de Cogan, 
 and marched to Dublin. O'Connor, the monarch of 
 Ireland, saw that if the Normans were successful, they 
 would keep the city, ami thinking that old enemies 
 were better than new ones, and not choosing to let them 
 get the key of Ireland into their bands, marched with 
 an immense force to protect the city, and at Clondalk- 
 in waited the approach of the enemy. But on the ar- 
 rival of king Derniot of Lcinster, with his allies, the 
 njipearance of the English warriors, steel-eliul from 
 head to foot, struck such terror into the undisciplined 
 and disunited Irish, who were wii bout defensive ar- 
 mor, that they did not stand the s-liock. but fled before 
 their foes. Dublin did not share a better fate. While 
 the citizens were parleying with a herald, and disput- 
 ing ahont the terms of surrender, the fierce Miles do 
 Cogan burst with his men over the city w-all, and sack- 
 ed the town. The Ostman king, Asculph M'Torcall, 
 escaped with difliculty to his shijiping in the bay — and 
 tlius Dublin changed its masters. 
 
 But it was too valuable a possession to be allowed 
 to remain quietly iu the hands of its new occupiers. — 
 The Norman adventurers, under their leader. Strong- 
 bow, had fallen under the jealous displeasure of King 
 Henry 11. of England, who ordered them to return 
 home, and while they were liesitating what to do, 
 O'Connor, the Irish monarch, entered into a con- 
 federacy with the ejected Ostman king of Dublin, 
 who had gone amongst his Danish allies in the north 
 to raise supplies, and having summoned the largest 
 army ever before collected in Ireland, surrounded the 
 city, and cut of its supplies. Lawrence O'Toole, the 
 Archbishop of Dublin, true to the Milesian cause, and 
 )>atriotically anxious to get rid of the English, did all 
 he could to jiersuade Strongliow to surrender, who, 
 seeing the difficulties he had to encounter, was inclin- 
 ed to take the advice : but unfortunately, the Irish, not 
 knowing the enemy they had to deal with, insisted on 
 such extravagant terms, that they were rejected ; and 
 Miles de Cogan, the bravest of those Anglo-Normans, 
 advised a sudden and desperate sally upon the Irish. — 
 Accordingly five hundred men, led on by Cogan, sup- 
 ported by Strongbow, and Raymond le Gros, broke 
 in upon the Irish lines at Pinglas— and this handful of 
 determined and desperate men actually routed the Irish 
 host, and neariy took King O'Connor prisoner] who at 
 the time was enjoying the luxury of a bath. 
 
 The Irish army were scarcely dispersed, when Mc- 
 Torcall appeared with his Ostman shipping and forces 
 in the river. These were so numerous, that he had 
 full expectation of recovering his lost city; and had he 
 arrived in lime, and joined in the attack with the Irish 
 monarch, there is every reason to suppose that the 
 Norman-English would have been driven out of the 
 
 country. But the fortune of war was otherwise. 
 
 There is a great deal of romantic interest attached to 
 this last straggle of the Danes with the Anglo-Nor- 
 mans. As Strongbow had his brave and valiant 
 knight, the indomitable -Miles de Cogan, so M'Torcall 
 was attended by a Scandinaiian, named John le Dane 
 or John the Mad. Maurice Kcgan reports that this 
 northern Hector was of such enormous prowess, that 
 with one blow of his battle-axe he could cut the thigh- 
 bones of the horsemen like cheese, and their legs would 
 
 fall oft' like so many cabbage-stocks to the ground. 
 
 Thus these two fierce knights were matched together, 
 and dreadful must have been the struggle as they 
 met 
 
 " Foot to foot, and hand to hand." 
 But this is not the only romantic circumstance attend- 
 
 ing this eelcbratcd ongagcment. A potty king of the 
 name of Gille Mo llolmock, of Ostman descent, but 
 who had adopted the manners, dress, and habits of the 
 Iiish, and who governed a district not far from Dub- 
 lin, came and oflerelthe English, his assistance. — • 
 "No," says Miles do Cogan, in the pride of his knight- 
 hood, " we won't have your help ! " (perhaps he dis- 
 trusted him) "all wo want you to do is this; if we 
 beat the Danes, cut olf their retreat to the ships, and 
 help us to kill ihcni ; and if we be defeated, and are 
 forced to fiy, why, fall on us, and cut our throats, 
 sooner than let us be taken jirisoncrs bv these pi- 
 rates ! " 
 
 The jierformance of these conditions Gille Mo Hol- 
 inock swore to observe, and he stood aloof w bile the 
 Ostmen marched to assault Dublin. The assault was 
 made at Dame Gate, and the furious onset was headed 
 by John le Dane, but Miles de Cogan stood there to 
 oppose him, just where the entrance to the Lowek 
 Castlu Yard now is. But in the meantime, the 
 Norman knights, who had learned iu the battle fields 
 of Italy and France the military arts and stratagems 
 by which superior numbers may be matched and over- 
 powered, made, under the command of Hichard de Co- 
 gan, a sally from the postern then called the Pole Gate, 
 at the foot of Ship-street, and taking a circuit through 
 the fields whereon now stand Stcjihens-street and 
 Georges-street, John le Dane was attacked both in 
 flank and front. This decided the day. John IcDane 
 was slain by Miles de Cogan, and M'Torcall was tak- 
 en prisoner by Richard de Cogan, and hanged the next 
 morning; while Gille Mo Ilalmock, true to his prom- 
 ise, fell upon the retreating Danes, and cut them to 
 pieces, so that few escaped to their ships in the Liflcy. 
 Thus ended the dominion of the Sea-Kingb in Ire- 
 land. Henceforward the history of Ireland is connect- 
 ed with the Anglo-Normans or English. 
 
 We now take up the history of Dublin from the pe- 
 riod of the Anglo-Norman conquest; and in thus ap- 
 proaching nearer to our own times, we crave the in- 
 dulgence of the reader, and hope that he will be enabled 
 to state truths without indicating any bias. 
 
 No king, perbaps, ever gained so important a pos- 
 session as Ireland, at so little personal expense as did 
 Henry the second of England. While, with all his 
 chivalry, and the dower of his dominions, he was vain- 
 ly endeavoring to preserve Franc* as part and parcel 
 of the British empire, a few of his subjects on the 
 marches of Wales had won for him, apparently against 
 his consent, an island without which the emjiire must 
 have been incomplete, even though France had been 
 retained. The Plantagenet, though he affected to be 
 angry with Strongbow and the extraordinary handful 
 of men who had secured Dublin and the cast of Ire- 
 land for him, was not slow in jirocecding to take pos- 
 session in person of the crown that was thus won. On 
 landing at Waterford, he immediately went on to Dub- 
 lin, attended by Strongbow, and having in his train a 
 gallant body of the Anglo-Norman nobility, and a 
 small hut well appointed army. When he reached the 
 metropolis, he suminoncd the Irish kings to meet him, 
 which was obeyed by the kings of Meaih, Brcfney, 
 (Longford,) Uriel, (Louth,) and many others. But 
 O'Connor, the Irish monarch, would not trust him- 1 
 self on the eastern side of the Shannon, and made his ' 
 submission to Hugh de Lacy, who was commissioned 
 to receive if, acknowledging Henry as his liege lord. 
 Dublin, at the period of ibe Plantagcnel's arrival, did 
 not contain a house fit to receive a King, or capable of 
 exhibiting those festive hospitalities which, as a King, 
 he was determined to disj.lay to his new subjects. — 
 Therefore, outside the walls, what was then called Hog- 
 gin, but now CoLLECE-GRKKN, a large temporary 
 building was erected, composed of wattles plastered 
 with clay. In this pavilion, run np after Irish fashion, 
 Henry kept his Christmas. Within these rude walls, 
 hung with the draperies of Flanders, and with the 
 gorgeous plate and household decorations of France 
 and Italy, he dazzled, while he feasted the Iri,-li chief- 
 tains, and confirmed them in the opinion of his wealth 
 and power. Having established courts of justice, 
 granted English laws, which were accepted, and held 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 19 
 
 a Parliament, according to tlic existing Anglo-Norman 
 constitution, and after staying a few montlis, lie hur- 
 ried back to the peculiar field of his ambition — Nor- 
 mandy ; leaving Dublin, not under the government of 
 Strongbow, for of hint lie was ever jealous, but of Hugh 
 do Lacv, Kobirt Fitz Stephen, and Maurice Fitzgerald 
 who, for their talents, rank, and possessions, amongst 
 the Angle- Norman conquerors of Ireland, he supposed 
 would prove a counterpoise to tlie power of Strongbow. 
 Henry, though he accepted the conquest of Ireland, 
 because it cost him little, and though ho had cunning 
 enough to see that it was wortli something, yet actuat- 
 ed by his mean parsimony, political views, and perhaps 
 a low estimate of llie real value of our country, deter- 
 mined that the jirivate individuals at whose risk it was 
 obtained, should also be at the expense of persevering 
 what has already mastered, and of subduing the rest. 
 So. after bringing over a colony from Bristol to settle 
 in Dublin, and occupy tlie place of the evicted Ost- 
 men, he distributed immense territories to the grandees 
 who had first invaded, and gained a footing on our 
 isle. To Strongbow he gave all Leinster ; to de Lacy, 
 Mcath ; to De Courcy, Ulster ; and to Robert Fitz 
 Stephen and Miles de Cogan, Cork. Thus he laid the 
 foundation of that great Anglo-Norman aristocracy, 
 or rather oligarchy, who even at war with the Irish or 
 the crown, were tlie chief cause of the unquiet state of 
 Ireland for five hundred yeajs. 
 
 It is not witliin our scope to enter into detail on the 
 annals of Dublin, because, in fact, there is not a great 
 deal that is really historically interesting. The colony 
 of BristoUians settled under IIenrj''s encouragement 
 and charter, seemed to have amalgamated readily with 
 the Irish and Ostman remnant tliat remained in tlie 
 city after the seizure of it by Miles de Cogan. Tlie 
 walls being strengthened, and the castle of Dublin 
 commenced in 1220 by Henry de Londres, the Arcli- 
 bishop, and rendered a respectable fortress, the citizens 
 of Dublin were found to be of great use in maintain- 
 ing the English power in Ireland. They went forth 
 with the Lords lieutenants and Lords deputies, in car- 
 rying the war beyond the pale, and in breaking the 
 hostile confederacies of tlie Anglo-Irish or Milesian 
 chieftains ; and the fame of their martial prowess went 
 before them beyond the Shannon, and as far as the 
 Giant's Causeway. On these occasions the martial 
 force of Dublin consisted of twenty companies, drawn 
 from tlic Corporations, and headed by their Masters as 
 Captains, and bearing before them their black stand- 
 ard, wliich, as StanihuiBt says, was ' ragged and jag- 
 ged, and almost by the rough tract of time, worn to 
 the bare stumps.' Tliis array was always beheld by 
 their enemies with particular respect and dread, and it 
 was not alone the Byrnes or the O'Tooles that were 
 kept by them in check, but the farthest north had rea- 
 son to feel their power. 
 
 The particular day for mustering the martial array 
 of Dublin was Easter iNIonday, which is still called 
 Black Monday, for the following reason : Tlie Bris- 
 toUians, to whom Henry the Second had granted the 
 city, and who now in fact composed the majority of 
 the citizens, had introduced a sport which appears to 
 have been lost in England, but is to this day a favor- 
 ite game with the Irish — the hurling of balls on an ex- 
 tensive green. In the year 1209, a party of the citi- 
 zens having challenged another party to a hurling 
 match on Easter Monday, tbcy fixed on an open 
 space, now Cullcnswood, which then stretched from 
 within two miles of the Castle of Dublin to the Wick- 
 low mountains. Here, while unarmed, and deeply 
 engaged in this beautiful and interesting game, they 
 were set upon by the Byrnes O'Tooles, and a dread- 
 ful slaughter ensued.* 
 
 It was chiefly owing to the defensive precautions of 
 
 *It may interest the reader to penise the quaint descrip- 
 tion tliat .Staiiilmr.=t gives oftliisuiriiir: — ' Tlie citizeu.-*, liuv- 
 ing over great nHiance in the muititude of tlie people, and 
 60 con^e^iiciitlv briiipsmiifwliat n^tc'lili'xs (reckless) iu lieed- 
 ingtlic iii.iuiituiii Miiiiiir. tiKit hir.'hr.l iiiiiliT tiieir DOses, 
 were i\<. 1.1 t'. nnini :,ii.l ru;. Ic in clii-lcrs. sDmetimos three 
 or four ii!\ It.- IVoni li)\\ ne. The Iii-h i-iniiii<-. esnving that 
 the citi/uii.- wi-ri- ucuustuiiu-d l.i lulcli Mich oilii va'paiics nil 
 holy days, aud having an iiickliiig withul hv the nu-aiis of 
 some claterlert (traitor) or other that n coiiipany of lliein 
 would range abroad, uu Monday in the Easter week, towards 
 
 the Dublin citizens, and to thoir reputation for disci- 
 pline and valor, that Edward Bruce failed in his at- 
 tempt at making Ireland an ajipendage to the Scot- 
 tish crown. He had engaged in his alliance all Ire- 
 land north of Dublin, and had marched (a. d. 1,110) 
 as far as Castlenock, within four miles of the city. — 
 But the townsman, having set fire to the sulmrlis, de- 
 molished Thom'as street, and even in the ardor of de- 
 fence having pulled down part of a monastery of Dom- 
 inican friars to strengthen the fortifications. Bruce 
 saw that he had no chance, and under the mixed dis- 
 couragement of his failure and want of provisions, he 
 was forced to retreat to Ulster, wlicre lie was fitally 
 defeated. Thus this brief but dangerous attempt of 
 the Scotch on Ireland was frustrated ; and the good 
 citizens of Dublin, in suing out their pardon from the 
 king for demolishing part of their town, and making 
 sulimission to the Ciiurchfor dilapidating a holy house, 
 doubtless mixed no little pride with their penance, as 
 having made sacrifices in their country's cause. 
 
 But this was not the only occasion on which the Dub- 
 linians committed acts which compromised them with 
 both Crown and Church. They unfortunately en- 
 gaged in the long feud that was carried on in the fif- 
 teenth century, between the earls of Ivildare aud Or- 
 monde, taking part with the Goraldine against the 
 Butler. On a certain occasion they tore the earl of 
 Ormonde from the sanctuary at JNIary's Abbey, and 
 breaking open the door, they not only did violence to 
 him, but to the Abbott, carrying him forth from his 
 own altar as they would a.corpse. For this the mayor 
 and sheriffs had to do public penance, walking bare- 
 foot througli the streels of the city, from Patrick's 
 Church to Christ's Church, and so on to Mary's Ab- 
 liey. But this was not all. In a quarrel which took 
 place between Ormonde and Kildare in St. Patrick's 
 Church, the citizens who tliought their favorite Ger- 
 aldine in danger, actually discharged a flight of arrows 
 into the sanctuary, at Ormonde's retinue, some of 
 which having stuck in the sacred images tliat were 
 kept in the rood loft, complaint was made to the Pope, 
 and a legate a latere was sent to make inquisition into 
 the matter. The citizens could only be absolved by 
 their undertaking that their mayor should ever after- 
 wards, in detestation of tlie enormity, walk barefoot 
 through the city in open procession, on Corpus Christi 
 day. Indeed in these primitive times the ecclesiastical 
 discipline under which good people were kept, was by 
 no means light ; and perhaps the world is not much 
 better since the Churcli's discijiline has been relaxed. 
 What, for instance, would the woriby people of Dub- 
 lin in the nineteenth century say, if subjected to tlie 
 penalties for sinning to which their forefathers of the 
 thirteenth century were bound ? The Black Book of 
 Christ's Church records the following ordinance : ' If 
 any citizen committed a public sin, he should for the 
 said offence commute for a sum of money; if he con- 
 tinued in his sin, and that the same was enormous 
 and public, that then {' /ustigetur ' ) he should be cud- 
 gelled before the procession made to St. Patrick's or 
 Christ's Church ; and if after his penance he should 
 persist in his sin, the Official of the Archbishop should 
 give noiice of it to the mayor, and bailiffs, who should 
 either tuni him out of the city, or cudgel him through 
 it. 
 
 But Dublin fell into a worse scrape than any that have 
 been mentioned. In the year 1486, the citizens, en- 
 couraged by the influence and example of the earl of 
 Kildare and the Archbishop, received Lambert Sim- 
 nel, and actually crowned him king of England and 
 Ireland, in Christ's Church; and to make thesolemni- 
 ty more imposing, they carried the young impostor on 
 the shoulders of a monstrous man, one Darcy, of Plat- 
 ten, in the county of Meath ; and being in want of a 
 
 the woode of Cullcn, they lay in a state very well appointed, 
 and layde in .Hiiiidry places for tlieir coming. The citizens 
 lather minding the i,lea.«iiie thev should iircseiitlv enioy 
 than l.,nca.-li..g llic^iui-1 that liii'-ht ensue, Ih.ckt u'liiiniicd 
 from the citi.' lu IIm- ui.odc, WImm,', h.-in- iiil.-n. pti-d l,v 
 their Ivint; in „uil.u^h, lhe^ were t.. li.e uinuher „l Ijv e Iniii- 
 
 iln'cl luiH-iahlv slaMU'. 1 lie eilixeus. .leeuiiiiL' tlil.l in, kie 
 
 t.vliie 1(1 1h- a i-i-.,~, („■ ,li-Mial ilav, gave il ll,e a|inelliitl.iii ,.f 
 lU.ACK M(,Mi,\v. -fhe eilie, heii:;; m,.,i, aller |.e..,,le.l l.v a 
 fioh supillv of l!li^l.dliau^, In dare I he lli-helielllie. agreed 
 
 to bunekel yearly iu that place. Fur the major uuJ llie 
 
 crown, they borrowed one for the occasion from the 
 image of the blessed Virgin that stood in the church 
 dedicated to her service at Dame's-gate. t But tho 
 townsmen soon finding out their error, and feeling 
 that they had to do with a ]irinco of the house of Tudor, 
 who was both resolute and wise, (Henry the Seventh) 
 tendered their humble apology and submission in tho 
 following words : — ' We were daunted to see not only 
 your chief governor, whom your highness made ruler 
 over us, to bend the knee to this idol, but also our 
 father of Dublin, and most of the clergy of the nation, 
 except his Grace the Archbishop of Armagh. We 
 therefore humbly crave your highness' clemency to- 
 wards your poor snbjccts of Dublin.' The prayer of 
 this petition his majesty was pleased to accede to, 
 though the citizens were not entitled to pardon on the 
 plea, of bejipjit nf clergi/, for many who affixed their 
 marks to the instrument could not write. { 
 
 But wc must conclude for this number, promising 
 onr readers a treat when we come to give the history 
 of Silken Thomas, — Thomas Fitzgerald, lord deputy 
 of Ireland, — who was so called from the splendor of 
 his military trappings and his gallant and noble bear- 
 ing. His life and fate are highly interesting, and will 
 adorn a page of our little Journal. In the meantime, 
 hoping that our readers will not complain that we are 
 either drt/ or tedious, we bid them good-bye — for a 
 week. 
 
 Never Forgotten — A rich landlord of England 
 once cruelly oppressed a poor widow. Her son, a 
 little boy of eight years, saw it. He afterwards be- 
 came a painter and painted a life likeness of the scene. 
 Years afterwards he placed it where the man saw it. 
 He turned pale, trembled in every joint, and oflTered 
 any sum to purchase it, that he might put it out of 
 sight. Thus there is an invisible painter drawing on 
 the canvas of the soul a life-likeness, reflecting cor- 
 rectly all the passions and actions of our spiritual his- 
 tory on earth. Eternity will reveal them to every 
 man. We must meet our earth-life again. 
 
 A QoiD TRO Qno. — Mason, Regent of Trinity 
 College, had asked one of his friends to lend him a 
 book, which he wished to consult, and received for an- 
 swer — ' That he never allowed his books to go out of 
 his room, but that if he chose to come there, he was 
 welcome to read as long as he pleased.' Some days 
 afterwards this pedant applied to Mason for the loan 
 of his bellows, who replied — ' That he never allowed 
 his bellows to go out of the room, but that if he chose 
 to come there, he was welcome to blow as long as he 
 pleased.' 
 
 Music. — An excellent clergyman, possessing much 
 hnowledge of human nature, instructed his large fam- 
 ily of daughters in the theory and practice of music. 
 They were all observed to be exceedingly happy and 
 amiable. A friend enquired if there was any secret 
 in his mode of education. He replied : ' When any 
 thing disturbs their temper, I say to them sing ; and 
 if I hear them speak against any person, I call them 
 to sing to me, and so they have sung away all causes 
 of discontent, and every disposition of scandal.' Such 
 a use of this accomplishment might serve to fit a fam- 
 ily for the company of angels. Young voices around 
 the domestic altar, breathing sacred music at the hour 
 of morning and evening devotion, arc a sweet and 
 touching accompaniament. 
 
 Notice for General Use. — The following no- 
 tice is posted conspicuously in a publication oflicc ; — 
 ' Shut this door, and as soon as you have done talk- 
 ing on business, serve your mouth the same way.' 
 Bores wouldn't do a had thing to cut this out and 
 paste it in their hats.' 
 
 sheriffs, with the citizens, rcimyre to tho Woode of Cullen, 
 in which place the luavor hes|,,weth a cestly diuiicr wilhlll 
 amottteorroiiudell.aiul bi.lh the sherilfs within aiiollier, 
 where tlicy are so well guaided by the > uulh uf the citie, u.s 
 the niouufain ciieniie daielh not atlemiJt to snatch as much 
 as a pastye crust IVom thence.' 
 
 tTliis gate was so called from tho church of St. Mary lea 
 IJame that adjoined it. 
 
 tOur readers are aware flint hcnrfit of the clergy was ex 
 ten dcd to those only who could read and write. 
 
20 
 
 IRISH MISCELLANY, 
 
 THE DEiVD TRUMPETEK. 
 
 Wakr, 8ol(llor! wukel— lliy war-liorso wults, 
 To U-iir tlii'v lu tlio buttle buck ;— 
 'J'liou sluiiibtriit ul u louinnn's galea;— 
 Thy ilojr would brink Illy bivouuo; — 
 Tliy iiluiuu 1.4 Iruiliiij; iu the tlunl, 
 Anil tUy nil ruulrhiou inithcriii|; rust. 
 
 Sleep, foldiorl— sU'epI— tliy warfare o"er, — 
 "Sot thine own biigle'H louile.<it titruiu 
 Shall ever break thy sluiubcrmnore, 
 ^Vith f:ummuiiii to the bnltli'-plaiii; 
 A tnmi|i«l-uatu more loud anil deep 
 Miiitt roufc thee IVom lliut leaden i^leep. 
 
 Thou need's! not helm nor curlaFS now, 
 — Ueyoud the (irrriim hero's beast,— 
 Thou wilt not quail thy nuked brow, 
 Nor shrink lielore a myriad host, — 
 Kor head und /I'll alike are sound, 
 A tliousuud arrows cannot wound. 
 
 Thy mother is not in tliy dri'ams, 
 with thai wild widow'd look slic wore 
 The day- how long to her it seems; — 
 She kiss'd thee at the collage door. 
 And sieken'd al tlie sounds ol'joy 
 Thai bore awny her only boy. 
 
 Sleep, soldier;— let thy mother wait. 
 To hear thy bugle on the blast; 
 Tliy dog. perhaps, may iind the gale, 
 And bid her eoine to thee at last ; — 
 He cannot tell a sadder tale 
 Than did thy clarion on tlie gale, 
 ■When Inst— and far away— she licartl its lingering 
 ecliocs fail. 
 
 The very consciousne.«s of being beloved by the object of 
 our attachment, will disarm of its terrors even death it- 
 self. 
 
 The petty sovereign of an insignificant tribe of Kortli 
 AiiiiTicn every morning stalks out of his liovel, bids the sun 
 good morrow, and points out to him with bis linger the 
 course he is to take for the day. 
 
 Love labor; if you do not waul it for food, you may for 
 physic. 
 
 Industry often prevents what lazy folly thinks inevitable. 
 Industry argues an ingenuous, great, and generous disposi- 
 tion of soul, bj' unweariedly pursuing things in the fairest 
 light, and disdains to enjoy the fi-uit of other men's labors 
 without deserving it. 
 
 lie who lies under the dominion of any one vice must ex- 
 IK'Ct the common effects of it. If lazy, to be poor; if intem- 
 perate, to be diseased; if luxurious, to die belinie,«, &c. 
 
 With di.screlion the vicious preserve their honor, und 
 without it the virtuous lose it. 
 A good conscience is the finest opiate. 
 If it n^erc enacted that only iicrsons of high rank should 
 dine upon three dishes, the lower sort would desire to have 
 three; but if commoners were permitted to have as many 
 di.>lies as they pleased, whilst the nobility were limited to 
 two, the inferior sort would not exceed that number. An 
 order to abolish the wearing of jewels set a whole country 
 in an uproar; but if the order had only prohibited cnrings 
 to ladies of the first quality, other women would not have 
 desired to wear them. 
 
 Home.- The great end of prudence is to give cheerfulness 
 to those hours which splendor cannot gild and acclamation 
 cannot cxhilirate. Tho.«c soft intervals of unbended amuse- 
 ment, in which a man shrinks to bis natural dimensions, 
 and throws aside the ornaments or disgeisea which lie feels 
 ill privacy to bo uscle.'^ incumbrances, and to lose all effect 
 w hen they become familiar. To be happy at home is the ul- 
 timate result of all ambition, the end to which every en- 
 terprise and labor tends, and of which every desire prompts 
 the prosecution. It is indeed at home that every man must 
 Ikt known by those who would make a just estimate of his 
 virtue or felicity; for smilesand embroidery are alike oc- 
 casional, and the mind is oflen dressed for show iu painted 
 honor and fictitious benevolence. 
 
 Deceitebs. — Wc are bom to deceive or to be deceiv- 
 ed, la one of these classes we must be numbered; 
 but our self-respect is dependent upon onr selection. 
 The practit'C of deception generally secures its own 
 puni-liment ; for callous indeed must be that mind 
 which is insensible of its ij^Tiominy I But he who has 
 been duped is conscious, even in the verj' moment that 
 he detects the imposition, of his proud superiority to 
 one who can stoop to the adoption of so foul and sorry 
 a course. The really good and high-minded, there- 
 fore, are seldom provoked by the discovery of decep- 
 tion ; though the cunning and arlfnl resent it, as a 
 hurailating triumph obtained over them in their own 
 vocations. 
 
 A VISIT TO THE GAltDENS OF THE 
 
 ZDOLOGICAL SOCIETY OF DURUM. 
 
 Wo trust those of our readers who live in or near 
 Dublin have ulrciuly paid a visit to lliis infant niuionnl 
 institution, and iluit those of them who do not, will 
 read wiih some little interest a visit to the Gardens of 
 the Zoologienl Society. When wo copsider the im- 
 mense yearly sum which the London Society nctts 
 (said to be about ,tl8,0l)0 Inst year) from casual visit- 
 ors, it is not too nuicli to snpjiosc, that in proportion 
 to the extent of Dublin and its pojiulation, our gar- 
 dens will similarly Hoiiiish, and become one of the 
 leading metropolitan attractions. 
 
 Well, then, su]ipose lliut on one of these lovely days 
 of the monlli of June, wlicn all nature is in growth 
 and bloom, when the sun is not too sultry, nor the 
 ground too hot with dust, «o start fur I'henix I'ark, 
 How thankful should the citizens of Dublin be, living, 
 as they do, in a town (lom which the country is ac- 
 cessible on all sides, and the humblcsi mechanic can, 
 in a few minutes, transport himself into all that is 
 lovely in the combination of hill and dale, plain, river 
 or ocean. There is no cily in the British empire 
 which pan either boast such suburbs, or atford such 
 cheap facility in getting conveyed to thcra. 
 
 Starting along the Liifey, by the military road lead- 
 ing to Kilmainham, we cross the beautiful metal 
 bridge, erected in honor of the late king's visit to Ire- 
 land, and enter the jiark gates. Shall wo proceed 
 along the broad miignilicent avenue, shaded by noble 
 elms planted a century ago, irr formal and character- 
 istic fashion, by the great Earl of ChcsierKeld ? No ; 
 we will take the less artificial and more Irish-like way, 
 cut by the hand of nature, who knows how to dispose 
 her ornaments in other forms than in clumps and 
 quincunxes, through that sinuous ravine, where the 
 liawthonie, )-ct in blossom, exhibits these roseate tints 
 that pencil with peculiar beauty, the latter days of its 
 bloom, just like the rich, brilliant, but alarming hues 
 that lighten up the dying maiden's cheek. Taking 
 the glen to the right, it will soon lead us to the piece 
 of ground whiih the Irish government has so liberally 
 bestowed for the purposes of science — and in truth it 
 is a beautiful and befitting spot. A swell of a green 
 lawn, rising from a broad piece of water that sweeps 
 back amongst high grounds, and is lost in the upper 
 woods of the park — here, a very pretty lodge, suitable 
 to the scenery, while an extensive view of the moun- 
 tains, with the broad valley of the Liffey intervening 
 — let them talk as they will about views and prospects 
 — but here is one which challenges com])arison with 
 many a boasted scene, and which the humblest citizen 
 of Dublin can enjoy, for the trouble of walking 
 thither. 
 
 Well, then, we ]i;iy our sixpence and enter the 
 Gardens. To be sure tlie front is yet not unlike the 
 seafl'olding of a Donnybrook fair show — but give time 
 — the institution is very young. Now, look at the 
 ground, ye that have travelled to Paris and London, 
 and say could a better spot be better sclecteil for the 
 Dublin Zoological Society ? The place where living 
 animals are kept at ihuJiiidin dcs /Vuwte of Paris is 
 crowded to excess — in fai:t, the menagerie seeras but 
 an adjunct to other and more important objects of 
 science ; and considering the number of animals of all 
 sons, it is not only tlat and uninteresting, but incon- 
 venient. The very same is the case at the Hegent's 
 Park. The grounds are not very interesting — indeed, 
 the Park itself is at best but an ugly, unmeaning 
 place ; and the )iortion allotted to the Zoological So- 
 ciety seems lo have been carved off with a most nig- 
 gardly hand — whoever granted it surely said, ' We can 
 only give to science a cornT.' But oii'r collection is 
 small, veri/ small, and the best portion of it has been 
 presented with a praiseworthy and honorable liberali- 
 ty, by the London Society; we must make ihe most 
 of it, observing, by the way, that workmen are busily 
 employed in preparing for the reception of additional 
 tenants. Well, now, as we enter can we not fancy 
 ourselves in Paradise, and removing the idea of cages 
 and barriers, think we sec Adam and Eve walking in 
 iimocence amongst the creatures, while they sported 
 
 and frisked about ilioro ? It would be rather difficult 
 indeed to set down this whiskered exquisiic, with a 
 cigar in his mouth, who is throwing nuts to the mon- 
 key, for old Adam, or this deenyid and venerable 
 maiden, whoso monstrous bonnet expands over hir 
 Sparc bust, for good mother Eve — but a truce to criti- 
 cism — here arc two grave, philosophic young men, 
 whose remarks must bo very instruclivo ; and though 
 wc would not be guilty of the rudeness of intruding 
 on any one, wc may, without a brcaeh of politeness, 
 follow in rear, and listen to their observations. 
 
 'Look at these ostriches, and their adjoining equally 
 foolish-looking comjianions, the emu's of Australia. 
 The emu has three toes, while the ostrich has only 
 two. Can you not fancy a comparison between them 
 and some bipeds of the human race ? Some over- 
 grown (jommcigh of a fellow, who just enjoys as much 
 bruins as enables him to count the miles and mark the 
 hour of dinner, and who stalks through life, thrusting 
 his long Paul Pry neck into everybody's business but 
 his own !' 
 
 ' A gentleman who loves a laugh himself, and has aa 
 fine a perception of the droll and witty as any man I 
 ever knew, tells a good story about Turks laughing. 
 He was at a village on the Dardanelles, with another 
 Engli.sh traveller; while loitering about, he .ill at once 
 missed his English servant, a humorous creature, 
 
 worthy of such a master. After some search, II 
 
 was found in the bazaar, dancing a minuet with a tall, 
 tame pelican ; no ways disconcerted at their apjiroach, 
 he finished his dance, and then, with a ball-room bow, 
 he took his partner by the wing, and, with a mincing 
 gait, led her to take refreshments at a neighboring 
 kibaub shop. The solemn Turks almost died of 
 laughter, and the roar that arose from the bazaar could 
 be inferior only to that of the Dardanelles battery, 
 when Baron de Tott lired his great gun 
 
 '• Good I" And do you think that Iliis scnrlet macaw re- 
 sembles old cross hook-nosed General Slowfoot, who owes 
 his elevation to an iiniirovcinent he suggested in olV.cers' 
 epaulets, or this cockatoo to our cousin Ensign Johnny 
 Xewcoine: But come round, look at this ^■llylgau— signi- 
 fying blue coif— and though it is neither ass nor bull, it 
 seems to partake of both. Its horns have been tipt with 
 brass, to keep it from doing mischief, for at flist it used to 
 be restive, and would butt with a bang against the boards 
 that made its whole wooden habitation shake. And yet 
 what a fine eye the creature has! Bat these noble Wapiti 
 
 deer — they are shedding thtir horns, and they are quite ten- 
 der and soft. 
 
 But here's a gull, stretching through the lawn; it was 
 surely entrapped into this place by mistakuig a painted 
 board for a fresh herring. 
 
 Does it not remind you of onr country friend Bob 
 (i reedy, who sold his farm in Connauglit to buy shares in 
 
 the Insurance Company .' Or perhaps this buzzard 
 
 hawk may remind you of .Sam .Sliiiperlon, your family's 
 pretended friend, who under pretence of procuring your 
 brother a commission in the patriot service of Bolivar, got 
 so large a sum and commissioned himself; These crea- 
 tures have a capital eye lo business— while apparently soar- 
 ing far above earthly concerns, they have a nice discern- 
 ment in trucking the frogs, mice and such other small deer, 
 as may bo crawling on terra firnia. But here is a fine young 
 leopard. One would scarcely think that his velvet jiaw con- 
 ceals talons that could give you a/«(inff illustration of their 
 power, and — " 
 
 "Stop, my dear friend, you are takingall the illustrations 
 to yourself; You mean to say that the leopard reminds 
 yoii of those who win your confidence that they may lacer- 
 ate your heart— but what do you make of these owls ? De- 
 mure, sober-looking articles, the fit type of the hypocrite, 
 whom most of Ihe world thought wise, and many good— 
 whose public life was slill and steady—who iu the sight of 
 the sun did no wrong thing, but amid the shades of night 
 was abroad pursuing thiugs vile and atrocious, making 
 
IRISH MISCJELLANY. 
 
 21 
 
 victims of those ■who were jioor unci in iniscry, while liie 
 luu^'li over his prey wns like the screech of that apparent 
 coiiooutrntion of wisdom, when he holds the little rodbreoht 
 ill his tulousi*' "Come, come, you must not usurp my 
 jirdvinee. Give me u piece of that biscuit in your hand, 
 and let us pay a visit to liruiu, llcic he is, opening his 
 
 jaws like a prnlf. He ^eems a p:ood naturcd sort of creature 
 too— a great deal of fcun/io«i?«fV in his countenance. He is 
 young to be sure, and Ins propensities are not developed, 
 and there is no knowing man, woman, beast or bird, until 
 the great passion of nature developes every other, There is 
 a comparison starting up in my mind about killing with 
 kindness— doubtless our friend Bruin there could give a 
 Iriendly hug! Oh, I have a pet story which I must tell: 
 Two emigrants, (Irishmen of course,) who had found bear- 
 hunting to be more congenial to their spirits, or more pro- 
 fitable to their purses, than felling trees on some uncleared 
 settlement of the great wilderness!^, were onee reduced to 
 a rather low ebb in pocket, in consequence of having been 
 too free with the dew. They therefore applied to an emi- 
 nent purchaser of Bear skins to give them an advance, 
 which he complied with, on liberal terms — to himself. 
 But instead of purchasing jiowder shot, and other neces- 
 saries, and setting off to fulfil their contract, they lingered 
 till all was gone; and then, when the store-keeper would 
 give them no more rum, they started with sorrowful hearts 
 to catch a fresh supply of bears. They were so very fortu- 
 nate as to rouse a couple of their shaggy friends, but in the 
 heat of pursuit were far separated. One I'addy allowed his 
 bear to come quite close, intending to take sure aim bekase 
 powder was scarce. Present! Fire! Oh murder! Flash 
 in the pan! and in a moment, by a few of its graceful 
 bounds, the bear held Taddy in its embrace. " What arc 
 you shaking at?'' growled the grisly monster. *'Arrah, bad 
 luck to your impudence, you'd shake yourself, big as you 
 are, you brutel" '"Jsone of your prate,'' rejoined this Ba- 
 Jaam-asssort of a bear; "just put your ear close to my 
 muzzle, and I'll tell you a secret. Never sell bear skins till 
 you catch them .'" and so giving Paddy a kick, he bolted into 
 the wood and disappeared." 
 
 ' Kot a bad one either — but I must tell another about By- 
 ron and Ills bear:— His lordship was suddenly called down 
 to Jsotlinghamshirc. He had taken places for *■ two gentle- 
 men ' in a northern mail, in the names of Byron and Bruin. 
 ' Twas a dark Isovember night; the friends arrived in Lom- 
 bard-street iu a hackney coach a little before eight. The 
 oiT-door of the mail at his lordship's demand, was opened, 
 Byron placed his own travelling cap on Bruins head & push- 
 ed him into the ' vehicle of letters,' followed and immediately 
 made him squat on the seat, looking as ' demure as a Qua- 
 ker in a brown upper Benjamin.' They occupied the whole 
 of the back; and it so happened that the two B,'s( Byron and 
 Bruin) were the only passengers who started from the I'ost- 
 Office. At Islington they took in a third, a retired Cit. ; he 
 was a quidnunc! a Coclcney ! and a tailor! Not a sound was 
 heard within till ascending Higligatc-hill. Snip took ad- 
 vantage of the hill, hemmed thrice, and broke silence with. 
 ' Veil, Sir; a bit of nice noose in this here moruin"s paper, 
 vot d'y think of them goings on of that there cowardly 
 rascal So7icypai't? A pretended snore, ' loud and deep' was 
 liis lordship's only reply to the attack on the 'great boI- 
 dier!' 
 
 Snip was beat down by the snore, turned with disgust 
 from his supposed sleeping opponent, cast a longing eye 
 towards the quiet gentleman iu the fur cap in tother comer, 
 and re-opened with ' Hem! a nice bit of road this here, Sir, 
 just to Vetstun (no answer), He's a deaf 'un, perhaps;' and 
 in a louder key, ' A very cold night this here, Sir!' Deter- 
 mined to have an answer, iu deliance of Chesterfield, he 
 souglitto seize a breast-button, but encountered nothing but 
 fur. 'Ah! Sir,' bawled Snip, ' this here's a worry nice and 
 warm travelling coat of your'n.' Receiving no reply, Snip 
 in despair, gave his tongue a holiday, and then slept. He 
 awoke to uuthought of horrors; for the first object whicli 
 caught his sight was Bruin's head, with muzzled mouth but 
 glaring eyes. 
 
 'My <Jod!' he exclaimed, ' the deaf gentleman iu the nice 
 varm travelling coat is a real live bear! Help! murder! 
 coach! stop! Lctmoout!' shouted Snip, and out he went; 
 and the poet and the i>et were left in full possession of 
 the interior, while Snip measured the seat of the box for 
 the rest of the journey.'' 
 " Fooh! Byron borrowed the whimsy of keeping a bear. 
 
 fi'omau Irishman! You stare; do you think that the titled > 
 poet could not be plagiarist, even iU keeping a bear? Why 
 man, that very story you have told me is only another ver- 
 sian of my uncle's adventure with the famous Cleorge Kob- 
 ert Fitzgerald. My uncle, who was by profession an at- 
 torney, a wit, and a specious plausible fellow, could sing 
 a good song and drink a deep cup, but who, at the same 
 time, was a very nervous little body, became acquainted 
 with that strange bad man, whose liic and death have been 
 so singular. 
 
 If there was ever a tiger in human shape it was he ! His 
 elegance of exterior accomplishmeuts, and gcutleman-likc 
 address, his solt ,efl'eminate manners,and insinuating polish- 
 ed blandishments, were combined ^rith a ferocity of dispo- 
 tition which makes one almost shrink with horror from his 
 very name. Here the courtier, and there the bravo; now 
 the gay drawing-room aspirant for noble ladies' smiles, and 
 anon, the dark assassin, without pity, love or fear! And 
 he had whimsical fancies, too; I cannot believe but that 
 Byron stole from him. So my uncle took a fancy to George 
 Robert, and George Kobert took a fancy to my uncle, and 
 offered to make him his law agent. My uncle was to go down 
 with the great man to his estates in the county Mayo, and 
 the time fixed for departure was several hours before day- 
 light. A carriage and four drove up, uncle stepped in, the 
 morning was dark as pitch, and the misty rain beat fitfully 
 against the carriage-windows. By the dim light of the 
 lamps, uncle discerned tico individuals^ one of whom he 
 took to be George Robert, who, according to his mood, 
 was asleep ; the other, who appeared dressed in a shaggy 
 great coat, he supposed to be a.friend perhaps some Russian 
 nobleman on a visit. But the Russian nobleman rolled 
 about in rather a curious manner, and an occasional strange 
 noise made uncle think that these outlandish people had 
 rather an un-Irish mode of showing good nature. And 
 then could his smell be Christian? 
 
 His pomatum was surely ran cid bear's grease! As the 
 carriage drew near the town of liilcock, and the morning 
 began to send its feeble light through the moist windows, 
 uncle was astonished by the Russian's tremendous nose; as 
 day dawned, the nose became a snout, and as he eyed it 
 steadily and then sternly, he burst out, 'By the big hill o' 
 Howth, its not a Russian boyar but a bear! ' ' What's the 
 matter, Harry,' said George Robert, pretending to awake, 
 •- has Bruin been troublesome? He is in general the best of 
 travelling companions; snug and warm, though sometimes 
 cross, and apt to snap when you close on him too much. 
 But here is what I always use,' handing a short thick wand, 
 or rather cudgel, 'just, my good Harry, we/f him a little, 
 keep him quiet till we j-each Kinnegad, where we break- 
 fast.' ' Me welt a bear,- exclaimed my uncle, "Mr. Fitzger- 
 ald, you may manage your bear in your own way, but ex- 
 cuse me, Sir, I — I ' ' Oh, you mean to say you feel back- 
 fill in such company, Harry? ' 'Jeer away, Mr. Fitzgerald, 
 but here we are iu Kilcock, and one foot more I will not 
 budge with this monster!' 'Oh, then, the bear for my 
 money,' said George Robert, ' a pleasant journey' back to 
 Dublin — good morning, Sir! ' And so my uncle lost his 
 agency, but perhaps saved himself : at least he was out oi 
 the way of being tempteclto join in those practices which 
 brought Fitzgerald and his miscreant associates to the gal- 
 lows.' 
 
 Three eagles in the gardens now suggested some splendid 
 stories, which we must reserve till our next visit: but we 
 trust the Zoological Society will have made additions to 
 their collection before we pay it. 
 
 Disagreeable rEOPLE. — Some persons are of so teas- 
 ing and fidgetty a turn of mind, that they do not give you 
 a moment's rest. Everything goes wrong with them. They 
 c omplain of a headache or the weather. They take up a 
 book, and lay it down again — venture an opinion, and re- 
 tract it before they have half done — offer to serve you, and 
 l>revent some one else from doing it. If you dine with 
 them at a tavern, in order to be more at your case, the fish 
 is too little done — the sauce is not the right one; they ask 
 for a sort of wine which they think is not to be had, or if it 
 is, after some trouble, procured, do not touch it; they gixe 
 the waiter fifty contradictory orders, and are restless and sit 
 on thorns the whole of the dinner time. All this is owing 
 to a want of robust health, and of a strong spirit of enjoy- 
 ment; it is a fastidious habit of mind, produced by a vale- 
 tudinary habit of body : they are out of sorts with every- 
 thing, and of coui*so their ill humor and captiousness com- 
 municates itself to you, who are as little delighted with 
 them as they are with other things. Another sort of peo- 
 ple, equally objectionable with this helpless class, who arc 
 disconcerted by a showerof heaven's rain, or stopped by an 
 insect's wing, are those who, in the opposite ^pirit, will have 
 everything their own way, and carry all before them— who 
 cannot brook the slightest shadow of opposition — who arc 
 always in the heat of an argument, unless where they dis- 
 dain your understanding so much as not to condescend to 
 argue with you— who knit their brows, and roll their eyes, 
 and clench their teeth, in some speculative discussion, as if 
 tliey were engaged in a personal (piarrel- and who, though 
 euccesriful over almo.^^t every competitor, seemed still to re- 
 sent the very offer of resistance to their supposed authority, 
 
 and are as angry as if they liad sustained gome premeditated 
 injury. There is an impatience of temper and an intoler- 
 ance of opinion in this thatconciliaies neither our affection 
 nor esteem. To such pcreons nothing appears of any mo- 
 ment but the indulgence of a domineering intellectual su- 
 periority, to the disregard and discomfiture of their own 
 and everybody else's comfort. Mounted on an abstract 
 proposition, they tramjjlc on every courtesy and decency 
 of behaviour; and though perhaps they do not intend tho 
 gross personalities they are guilty of, yet they cannot be 
 acquitted of a want of due consideration for others, and of 
 an intolerable egotism in the support of truth and justice. 
 You may hear one of these impetuous declaimers pleading 
 the cause of humanity in a voice of thunder, or expatiating 
 on the beauty of a Guide, with features distorted with 
 rage and scorn. This is not a very amiable or edifying 
 spectacle 
 
 PRACTICAL ADVICE TO IRISHMEN. 
 
 We are sure that our friends will not despise a little ad- 
 vice ; and we therefore wish to call their attention to a few 
 things not unworthy the observation of rational men. 
 
 One grand objection, until of late, to Irishmen, was their 
 want of business habits. It is owing to this that the En- 
 glish have imbibed the idea that nothing good can come out 
 of Ireland, and it is owing too to this that our shops and 
 our warehouses are filled with Scotchmen. We do not men- 
 tion this for the sake of invidious comparison ; all we mean 
 by it is, that Irishmen may be stimulated to rival them in 
 what is assuredly merely an educational habit. To our 
 young men we would say, never undervalue your situation. 
 Whateverit may be, fulfil its duties well ; and if you think it 
 unworthy of your abilities, the surest way to get a better, is 
 to deserve it. Kever let a horse-race, a review, or a regatta, 
 draw you from your business at unseasonable times. Val- 
 ue it more than any thing else;. be assiduous, attentive, and 
 pains-taking; and when you do take a day of pleasure (for 
 who with a spark of feeling could bear to be shut up perpet- 
 ually in town) let that day be such as will not interfere 
 with more important duties. 
 
 Endeavor to acquire soiid, useful, substantial knowledge. 
 Unfortunately for poor Ireland, though her children are 
 apt, inquisitive acute and intelligent, yet their faculties have 
 never been rightly directed. There are three senses iu 
 'which the people of the three kingdoms may be termed 
 knowing. The English are knowing, as far as regards their 
 comfort, and the promotion of it; the Scotch are knowing, 
 as far as regards that careful attention to interest which se- 
 cures their situations, and the means of keeping them; but 
 Paddy, poor Paddy, though he can give a wittier reply, 
 a shrewder observation, a more humorous retort, and is 
 therefore more intellectually knowing than either English 
 or Scotch, fails in the grand points of kuowingness as to 
 comfort and interest. It is a positive fact that the tone of 
 an Irish Penny Journal must be more elevated than an En- 
 glish one, because the low classes of the Irish are more in- 
 telligent than the English. At the same time the Irish have 
 not acquired that patient habit of reading which character- 
 izes the Scotch. We say habit; for it is owing to educa- 
 tion. Let our friends then endeavor to diffuse around them 
 a taste for wholesome, manly reading. Let them endeavor 
 to diffuse knowledge, and to guide the demand forit; let 
 them encourage it in their children and relatives; and Ire- 
 land will soon present a cheering scene. 
 
 The Sabbath. — Nature always seemed to me to 
 'keep Sabbath' in the wilderness. I used to fancy 
 that the wild birds were more quiet on that day, sit- 
 ting on thebranchcs with their heads under their wings 
 smoothing their plumage, or looking quietly about 
 them, and sometimes ventuvinf^ a faint warble, scaree- 
 ly a whisper. And I Jiave seen a large wolfish animal 
 stand for hours upon a dry log, on the bank of the river, 
 contemplating Uie stream, or gazing into the air; once 
 or twice, perhaps starting suddenly a few paves, but 
 then halting as if he had given up the idea ; and his 
 tail all the while hanging listlessly down, as if indica- 
 ting that no enterprise could be undertaken on that day 
 Just like the merchant who may be seen in the city, 
 on a bright Sunday morning, in clean shirt collar, and 
 with hands thrust into his pockets, loitering slowly 
 down the street, or standing in ruminating attitude at 
 the corner, pondering carefully every step of the mor- 
 row's tangled path, or perhaps calculating the amount 
 of time lost in Sundays, by the whole world, taken in- 
 dividually and collectively from Moses's day to the 
 present lime ; but on the wliolc, enduring the Sabbath 
 with Christain resignation. 
 
 Wet. — A hardy seaman, who had escaped one of 
 the recent shipwrecks upon our coast, was a.^kod by a 
 good lady how he felt when the waves broke over him. 
 He replied, * Wet, ma'am — very wet.* 
 
09 
 
 lUlSlI MISCELLANV. 
 
 IBISH MINSTBBL8Y. 
 C O U L I X . 
 
 DV CAnOL >IALOXX. 
 
 [ In ttu* twi-iit>-flKl)t year of tlio reljrii i>l' lU'hr> \ III, hii 
 »cl wua iiMcIf nviiH'Ciiiig the Imbits and <lrv>o< in liciii'nil of 
 tlie Irish, whcrt-by aJI persoim wcrt- rrtitruiiii-it fruiii bi'iiif( 
 eborn ur rtiavi-u abovo tlic oani, or fruiii Wfurih|;glibbi>p, ur 
 Cuuliim ( lung lucka) UD thi'ir heaUa, or buir un Ibi'ir u|)|H'r 
 lip, calli'il CrunilUDiU. Ou tbi.'i ucoai-biu u mmj; nun written 
 by oni' of our bards, in wbiob an Irish i iri;in la madv to 
 glrc the prefcrvuev to her dear I'oulin ( ur Ihi' youth with 
 thi: flowing loclu), to all i>tran);c'n) | by which thi: Knglish 
 were UH-aut), or thoM; nbo wore thi'ir bnbils. Uf this eong 
 tlif air alonr has rvac;bi'<l uh, and is univcn>ully admired. — 
 WtUker, <!■« quotrtt in yloore'i MitoJifj. 
 
 It CO hap|>i-ni>, however, ou turning to the nbovc statue, 
 that no mention is to be found thereiu of the C'oulin. Itut 
 in the year 1:^, a l^arlianient wa« held in Dublin ; and then 
 an act was juiAsed which more than e\])ress]y nuines the 
 Coulln, and minutely deM;ribes it for lis more ellectuul pro- 
 hibition. Thi«, the only statue made in Ireland that names 
 the Coulln, was imi^ed two hundred and forty -two years be- 
 fore the act cited by Mr. Moore; and, in conse(|uence of it, 
 some of the Irish Chienains who li%'ed near the seat of Kng- 
 llsli government, or wished to keep up intercourse with tlie 
 Kngllsh disiriel.i, did, in or soon after that year, 1235, cut 
 oO* their Coulins, and a distinct memorial of the event was 
 mode in writing by the Oflicers of the Crown. It was on 
 this occasion that tlie bard, ever adhesiveto national hiibits, 
 endeavored to lire the patriotism of a conforming chicltain; 
 and, in the character of some favorite virgin, declares her 
 preference for her lover with the C'oulin, belorc him who 
 coinplaisautly assumed the adorumeuts of foreign fashion. 
 — VuUin Prnntf Journal.^ 
 
 The last time she looked in the fhcc of her dear, 
 
 She breatbefl not a sigh, and she shed not a tear; 
 
 Bui she took up bis harp, and she kissed his cold cheek — 
 
 " 'Tis the lirst, and the last, for thy Norah to seek." 
 
 For beauty and bravery Cathan was known, 
 
 And the long flowing coulin he wore in Tyrone; • 
 
 The sweetest of singers and har|)er8 was he, 
 
 All over the Xorth, from the Uunn to the sea. 
 
 0"er the marshes of Dublin he often would rove, 
 To the glens of (J Toole, where he met wi;h his love; 
 And at parting they pledged that, next midsummer's day, 
 lie would come for the last time, and bear her away. 
 
 The king bad forbidden the men of O'Xeal, 
 M'ith the coulin adorned, to come o'er the pale; 
 Hut Norah was Irish, and said, in her pride, 
 *' If he wear not his coulin, I'll ne'er be his bride. 
 
 The bride has grown pale as the robe that she wears, 
 For the Lammas is come, and no bridegroom api^ears; 
 And she hearkens and gazes, when all are at rest, 
 For the sound of his harp and the sheen of bis vest. 
 
 Her palfrey is pillloncd, and she has gone forth 
 On the long rugged road that leads down to the Xortb; — 
 "Where Kbiana's strong castle frowns darkly and drear, 
 Is the head of her Cathan upraised on a spear. 
 
 The Lor<lsof the Castle had murdered him there, 
 And all for the wearing that poor lock of hair: 
 For the word she hud spoken in mirth or in pride. 
 Her lover, too fond and too faithful, had died. 
 
 Twas then that she looked in the face of her dear, 
 She breathed not a sigh, and she drojiped not a tear; 
 She took up his harp, and she kissed his cold cheek: 
 " Farewell! 'tis the first for thy Norah to seek." 
 
 And afterward, oft would the wilderness ring. 
 As. at night, in sad strains, to that harp she would slug 
 Her heartbreaking tones, — we remember them well — 
 But the words of her wailiug, no mortal can tell. 
 
 How TO GcEsg IT. — How can to tcU if a lady is 
 single from choice or not ? 
 
 This way : If she is always talking again-st ' the 
 men,' and the ladies who are favorites with the gen- 
 tlemen — she is single because she can't help it. If, 
 on the contrary, she gives man his just dues, you may 
 be pretty sare she has had good chances to marry, but 
 would not. 
 
 Not Bad for a. Niogbb. — ' Look hero, Clem, can 
 you tell dLs nigger why dat woolly head ob yours and 
 de moon am alike ;' 
 
 ' Well, Sambo, I guess it's kase dey am bof 
 round.' 
 
 ' No, dat am nol it ; it's kascdcy am bof sposcd to 
 be inhabited.' 
 
 AGUICULTUUE. 
 
 B<yond doulit, Iiiel\.m> is a Jint country. Her 
 climate and her soil have lung been the boutit of her 
 chililren, and the remark of slrangers ; her favorite 
 name, the Kmi:rald Islu, implies that she is eipaily 
 free from the blighting frosts and chilling winds of 
 more noriliern regions, and from the burning 
 beats of countries more exposed to the iniluencc of 
 the sun. And why is such a country, thus blessed by 
 the showers of Heaven, poor and miserable ^ It is 
 not for us to give the why and nherrfore. It is 
 enough for us to know that she mlijld rival England 
 in the excellence of her agriculture ; it is enough for 
 us to know that from Cape Clear to the Giant's 
 Causeway, from Dublin to Galway, she miijlit be like 
 a fertile garden, pouring forth her riches in exuberant 
 abundance. But beautiful speeches and long sen- 
 tences about what Ireland might be will not make 
 her so. Wo must liucklc up our sleeves and fall to 
 work. And fellow countrymen, believe the conductor 
 of the Dl'ulijj Phnnv Journal, -when he a.ssures 
 you, that though, like all men, he looks to his own 
 interest, yet he has your good at heart, and would 
 not, for all the paltry prolits of his periodical, either 
 flatter or slander you. It is intended to give occa- 
 sionally information on the agriculture of Ireland ; and 
 wo sincerely trust that none will take any offence 
 when we find fault, or get proud when we praise ; Jor 
 until the Ai/riculture of Ireland is improved, she will 
 never rise in tlie scale of nations. 
 
 Now the oostaclcs that lie in the way of the agricul- 
 tural prosperity of Ireland seem to arise from wimt of 
 capital, want of industry, want of system. Wherever 
 we go, we see tlie tillage of the country evidently suf- 
 fering under a deficiency of the means that should be 
 employed iu an eflScient system of husbandry. Poor 
 cattle, wretched machinery, and insulhcient manuring 
 are visible even to the eye of the citizen, who scarcely 
 knows wheat from oats. We see men becoming far- 
 mers without as much capital as might enable them 
 properly to till a cabbage garden, and struggling from 
 the beginning with dilHcultics which it is almost im- 
 possible to overcome. Tliis great evil is perhaps 
 more owing to the landlord than the tenant. It arose, 
 and is still encouraged by that vile and wretched sys- 
 tem of -setting to the highest bidder and at the highest 
 raekrent. This, in short, and without disguise, is the 
 first great cause of the deterioration of Insh agricul- 
 ture ; for in a country where all desire to be farmers, 
 there will naturally he extravagant competition. 
 
 The second cause Is, the want of regular and steady 
 industry. Irishmen, both farmers and laborers, can 
 work like horses to effect a particular object. Wiiere 
 are the Scotch or English tliat can match them in a 
 fOLL out ? But this is not steadily regulated. That's 
 the point. ' Steady, boys, steady !' What a time is 
 wasted at fairs, markets, weddings, wakes and fune- 
 rals ! True, the crop must he sold, our sons and 
 our daughters mutt be married, and ' our dead buried 
 out of sight.' But look at tliat knot of strong, stout 
 fellows lounging about the smith's forge, or gostering 
 at the corner where idlers, and worse than idlers, con- 
 gregate ! Let them go and mend u;j the broken 
 fences over the way, or turn the cow, or the pigs, or 
 the geese out of the corn ! But that very corn is pes- 
 tered with weeds ! Look at the prasha buy flaunting 
 unprofitably gay, and the thistle sending its bearded 
 seeds upon the w inds of heaven, to propagate the pes- 
 tilence in every adjoining field ! Fie, fie, ye lounging 
 idle fellows ! If the farmer does not go coolly, and 
 regularly, and systematically to work, he may as well 
 go beg. 
 
 The third great evil is the want of a reyular rotation 
 of crops. Insh farmers, the creatures of circumstan- 
 ces, and often put to their shifts, lannot bring them- 
 selves to pursue a regular system of husbandry. Now, 
 farmers, listen to us, and for a penny a week we will 
 put pounds a year into your pockets, llillo ! you fel- 
 low there, you need not go out of the room till we are 
 done. Is the Dublin Penny Journal not worth being 
 listened to ? Now, my gay fellow, let us be better 
 
 acquainlcd — why do you not ado])t a regular system 
 in your farming ! When you try to squeeze as much 
 out of the land at the least expense possible — what is 
 that conduct like \ It is like shutting one eye and 
 winking with the other, and iheii looking for a needle 
 in a bundle of straw. Do yon not know that if you 
 and all your neighbors arc cultivating the same kind 
 of grain, merely because there happens to be a high 
 price just now for it in the market, that by and by, a 
 glut will be the consci|uence, down tuinhle the jiriccs, 
 you arc disappointed, you cry out, ' How hard are the 
 times I' and perhaps attempt to console your .sorrow 
 by tossing up your little finger oftcner than your head 
 or your purse can bear it. Do you not know tliut a 
 succession of the same crop takes the very heart out 
 ot the eartli, and exhausts it so that it must lie in bed, 
 like an old dotard drunkard, to recover strength. 
 When the same crop is successively raised on the 
 same ground, the roots searcli for, and take away 
 more of the same kind of nourishment from the 
 ground than the manure can supply, and thus the 
 land is deteriorated and the weeds get a holiday and 
 playground, and do great damage. Now, this is a 
 terrible evil, a crying mischief Besides, the Irish sky 
 farmer often goes five miles to rent, sow, and cut 
 down a meadow for winter store to his cattle, when he 
 might, if he choose to raise all sorts of green crops, 
 clover, vetches, and turnips, and keep his "dumb 
 brutes" full and hearty at little trouble and little ex- 
 pense. 
 
 But we do not intend to give a lecture in this, the 
 second week of our existence. We only want lo let 
 you know that we have a comer reserved for our 
 country friends, and that we have the op])ortHnity and 
 the disposition to communicate from time to time, 
 valuable agricultural information. In the meantime, 
 shoulder your spades — your every moment is prec- 
 ious — off to your work, but before you go, give three 
 cheers for the Dublin I'ennv .Journal. 
 
 THE AGE OF BUASS. 
 
 The whole world is undergoing a fearful change. 
 In old times silver and gold were thought the only 
 coins worth the having, but now nothing will do but 
 brass. His majesty's mint had belter lay in a pro- 
 digious stock of heavy metal — depend upon it copper 
 will be worth more than its own weight ere long. No 
 magazine may now hold up its head unless it be copper 
 fastened and caulked with brass. Penny Jouksalb 
 are the only .Journals now-a-days to sail with wind 
 and tide in their favor — and the public are in the right 
 of it. Some folks may think that this copper deluge 
 will be the ruin of them — and we dare say many arc 
 enjoying a sly laugh at the fearful annoyance which 
 we will have when the pennies are pouring in upon 
 us, and all Dublin are clamorous for their numbers. 
 ' Why,' say they, ' their cellars will be crammed with 
 brass — they'll never get the pennies off their liandt — 
 see, see, all sacks in the house are in requisition, and 
 pennies are trundling in every corner! Their profits 
 will he absorbed in sacks and porters — and then the 
 bank will shut their doors against them, for feur of 
 the terrible deluge of brass. 1 heir Penny .Journal 
 will go down, and it well deserves such a/ife, for they 
 have joined with the whole brazen crew of Journalists 
 in brtukinij the prices of literature !' 
 
 Now what if we should attempt to prove to these 
 people that the age of brass is the very age both for 
 us and them ? Instead of lowering the. prices of litera- 
 ture — instead of degrading knowledge by selling it for 
 a penny — instead of undermining other journals, and 
 underselling other books, wc are doing the very re- 
 verse. The great leading journals, as they are called, 
 with 2s. Cd., or .3s. 6., or .5s. neatly inscribed on their 
 covers, are beyond all classes but those who have 
 money to buy, and education to understand and time 
 to read them. Perhaps now and then, some adventu- 
 rous youth who has a yeanling for something intellec- 
 tual above the stretch of his station and pockets, may 
 beg or borrow an occasional reading of one of them — 
 but as far as regards the great masses, these magazines 
 and reviews are sealed books. The some remarks are 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 23 
 
 applicable to nil literary periodiciils, down to the 
 humble sixpcnnj'. The most extensive oirculaiion of 
 anyofthera seiircely brinjjs tlicm out of their own 
 purticulnr cireles, and there they run their rounds, and 
 all the rest of the world are ignorant of them. But 
 our hrasen Journal is adapted to he read hy fivri/bodi/. 
 First, it is so cheap — who couM not spare a penny f 
 Second, it is so nice — who would not buy so fine a 
 pennyworth ! Third, it is short and pithy — who is it 
 that has not time enough to read it .' These are three 
 substantial reasons for you 1 Wo think wc see the 
 arti/.an comin^n to his hasty breakfast, and when he 
 would think it folly to open a book, he spreads the 
 DuBUN Pennv Journal before him, and reads a 
 little — then when he comes homo at nijjht, tired with 
 labor, and his children climbing his knee, do you 
 think that he would send them about their business, 
 and sit down in silence to a hook ? We knew one fel- 
 low of that description — a sulky, surly man — whose 
 children never dared to show their faces at night, or 
 approach him while reading. To be sure, he read a 
 great many books — but what then i liis children 
 hated him. But our Journal can be held in one hand, 
 while the worthy man holds a child on his knee with 
 the other, ami then at every interval of domestic labor, 
 ho can read aloud a little paragraph to his wife or his 
 daughter, who thus can enjoy their share of the penny 
 without losing a moment of time. Then, his little 
 son, just beginning to read, will be attracted by the 
 wood-cuts, and by-and-bye he will learn to read too ; 
 and as our Journal circulates from house to house of 
 the working class, it will be raising up a new genera^ 
 tion of readers, and be the means of creating a thirst 
 for knowledge where it never existed before. Thus 
 ■will it be the means of extending the blessings of civ- 
 ilization — it will increase the booksellers' sales and 
 enlarge the Held for the press. Should not our ap- 
 pearance, therefore, be hailed by every friend to man ? 
 Should not we be welcomed by the poor and favored 
 by the rich "! Yes, we see the schoolboy debating 
 whether he will spend his penny on a cake or a num- 
 ber of the Journal. We see the working man hesitat- 
 ing whether he will spend his penny on tobacco or 
 knowledge. We see the young lady opening her ret- 
 icule, and with a smile buying a number, and old gen- 
 tlemen and old ladies, whose eyes would be tired 
 reading long articles, hail our appearance with joy. 
 Thus the age of brass is a real blessing, and the Dnn- 
 LiN Penxy Jocunal a decided favorite with all, 
 young and old, rich and poor. Then, success to our 
 labors. 
 
 PESTILENCE IN IRELAND IN 1348. 
 
 BY JOHN CLTN, A FRANCISCAN MONK. 
 
 ' This year, and chiefly in the months of September 
 and October, great numbers of bishops and prelates, 
 ecclesiastical and religious, peers and others, and in 
 general people of both sexes, flocked together by troops, 
 in pilgrimage to the water of Inch moling, insomuch 
 that many thousands of souls might be seen there to- 
 gether for many days ; some came on the score of de- 
 votion, but the greatest part for fear of the pestilence 
 which raged at that time with great violence. It first 
 broke out near Dublin at 1 lowth and I 'alkey ; it almost 
 destroyed, and laid waste the eities of Dublin and 
 Drogheda, insomuch that in Dublin alone, from the 
 beginning of August to Christmas, fourteen thousand 
 souls perished. The pestilence had its first beginning, 
 as it is said, in the East, and passing through the Sar- 
 acens and infidels, slew eightthousand legions of them. 
 It seized the city of Avignon, where the Roman court 
 then wa?, the January before it came among us, where 
 the churches and cemeteries were not sufficient to re- 
 ceive the dead, and the pope ordered a new cemetery 
 to be consecrated for ilcpositing the bodies of tliose 
 who died of the pestilence, insomuch that from the 
 month of May to the translation of St. Thomas, fifty 
 thousand bodies and upwards were buried in the same 
 cemetery. This distemper prevailed in full force in 
 Lent, tor on the 6th day of March, eight Dominican 
 friars died. Scarce a single person died in one bouse, 
 
 but it commonly swept away husband, wife, children, 
 and servants, all together.' The authorseems to have 
 had a foresight of his approaching fate ; for he closes 
 his annals in i:i48,thus: 'But X,' says he, 'friar John 
 Clyn of the Franciscan order of the convent of Kilken- 
 ny, have in this hook written the memorable things 
 happening in my time of which I was either an eye 
 witness, or learned them from the relation of such as 
 were worthy of credit, and that these notable actions 
 might not perish by time and vanish out of the mem- 
 ory of our succcsfiors, seeing the many evils that en- 
 compass us, and every symptom placed as it were un- 
 der a malevolent influence expecting death among the 
 dead until it comes, such things as I have heard deliv- 
 ered with veracity, and have strictly examined, I have 
 reduced into writing; and lest the writing should per- 
 ish with the writer, and the work fail with the work- 
 man, I leave behind me parchment for continuing it, 
 if any man should have the good fortune to survive 
 this calamity, or any of the race of Adam should escape 
 this pestilence, to continue whet I have begun.' 
 
 NEWS FROM HOME. 
 
 The Ret. Mr. Conway. — In the court of Queen's 
 Bench, on the 18th, the attorney-general moved that 
 the venue of this case be changed to the county of 
 Dublin or elsewhere. He read several aflidavits in 
 support of his motion, and said that sooner than have 
 a trial by a Mayo jury, he would prefer entering a 
 nolle prosequi. Mr. O'Hara, Q. C, for the defendant, 
 opposed the motion. The arguments were brought 
 to a close on Wednesday. The court postponed judg- 
 ment. 
 
 Collision in the Belfast Eolgii. — On Sunday 
 morning, as the Belfast Screw Steamship Company's 
 fine screw-steamer. Semaphore, was coming up the 
 Lough, from Liverpool, she came into collision with 
 the brigantine Erie, from Ayr, coal laden, belonging 
 to Mr. P. Quinn, of this town. The brigantine sank 
 at once. Boats put off from the steamer and rescued 
 the crew, who were conveyed to the quays. None of 
 them sustained any injury, with the exception of one 
 man, who received a knock on the head. The Sema- 
 phore has not been damaged in any way. — Belfast 
 Mercury. 
 
 The Scotch in Ireland. — The Tipperanj Free 
 Press mentions that a Scotch Protestant gentleman, 
 (Mr. Paul Aitchison,^ who has been a resident in that 
 quarter for some five years past, lias won golden 
 opinions by his conduct as an employer : — ' Having 
 had a fifteen acre turnip field to plough for spring 
 wheat, the farmers of the surrounding district sent 
 their horses and ploughs on last Friday, and in six 
 hours the entire ground was excellently turned up. 
 Nothing could exceed the alacrity and good humor 
 evinced by the farmer's sons in thus obliging Mr. 
 Aitebison, and they vied with each other as to which 
 would do his part best.' 
 
 Attempted Assassination of a Priest. — The 
 Newry Examiner contains the following : — ' We regret 
 to learn that yesterday (Friday) a most ferocious at- 
 tack was made by a man named M'Ardle, who has 
 recently returned from Australia, on the respected 
 parish priest of Castlcblayney, the Rev. Mr. M'Meel. 
 It appears that while the reverend gentleman was su- 
 perintending some improvements in the chapel yard he 
 was attacked by M'Ardle, who was armed with a 
 butcher's knife. The reverend gentleman, in ward- 
 ing off the blows with a stick, received severe injnries 
 on the arm. M'Ardle was a]iparenlly in a maniacal 
 state, arising in all probability, from excessive indul- 
 gence in ardent liquor.' 
 
 Di3Tt;nnED State of Donegal. — We learn from 
 the DiiliHn Eoening Post, that a lamentable state of 
 affairs has arisen in Donegal, which had been until 
 recently,*ono of the most peaceable counties in the 
 United Kingdom. There have been differences be- 
 tween the Earl of Lcitrim and his tenantry, and some 
 of the latter have been removed from their holdings. 
 A correspondent of the paper above named, states that 
 
 Lord Lcitrim has arrived at Milford, with three or 
 four servants or bailiffs, armed at all points. Secret 
 societies, of which farmers of all creeds and grades are 
 becoming members, are spreading throughout tho 
 country, and bodies of police arc moving about in all 
 directions. 
 
 Hapmnbss. — 'I have lived,' said Dr. Adam 
 Clarke, ' to know that the great secret of human hap- 
 jiiness is this : Never suffer your energies to stagnate. 
 Tho old adage of ' too many irons in the fire,' conveys 
 
 an abominable lie. You cannot have too many 
 
 poker and all ; keep them all a going. 
 
 A Lady-Killino Coi;nt. — A Polish count was 
 recently before a court in London, when it came out 
 that he had been living for some years by money 
 which he raised from respectable ladies, who wero 
 under tho promise of marriage, but who were happy 
 to buy their release and letters at any sum. English 
 ladies, like their American cousins, are very sweet on 
 foreign counts ; and these same counts, also, in all 
 their operations, make love to bank account, which 
 accounts for the whole. 
 
 Death op one of the Irish Volunteers of 
 1782. A man named Arthur McCusker (alias Cos- 
 grove,) and of the patriarchial ag« of 104 years, died 
 in Louisbnrgli on the 5th inst. He was a native of 
 Tyrone, where he was enrolled among the ' Irish Vol- 
 unteers ' in 1782. 
 
 THE POETS AND POETRY OF IRELAND. 
 
 A large and entliusiastic audience listened to a truly elo- 
 quent address upon this subject, last Thursday evening, iii 
 the hall of the Stuyve.sant Institute. The address was deliv- 
 ered by Colonel Doheny. Practised as our friend is in 
 the higlier order of public speaking, and inspiring as many 
 for the occasions have been on which he has spoken to the 
 people, he excelled himself this time, and soared to a 
 height beyond his sunniest achievements in the great region 
 of rhetoric aud letters. True it is, wc have often heard 
 him utter more startling trutlis and appeal to the more 
 active and impetuous emotions, and have heard him do 
 this with a more resonant tone and in an attitude bolder 
 tlian that he assumed on Thursday evening, but in proprie- 
 ty and gracefulness of language — in accuracy, vividness 
 and unity of thought — in correct and impressive imagery — ■ 
 in pathos and subdued persuasiveness — in all the gentler 
 and more subtle arts and influences of the scholar in the 
 popular Tribune, Colonel Doheny, as we have said, surpass- 
 ed liimself the evening we allude to. The subject— a wide 
 and varied one — one as wide and varied as the Irish land- 
 .scape — grew into familiar light, and luminously disclosed 
 its known as well as its more famous features, under his 
 voice and hand. While there is a man so gifted to render 
 justice to tho works and memories of the Irish Poets, there 
 need be no fear that the flippant and illiterate gossip of any 
 ballad-pedlar will detract from their fame, or turn one 
 grateful and loving look of homage from them. 
 
 The object of the address — relief for the widow and or- 
 phans of an Irish emigrant^whose heart was ever in the 
 cause of his native land, and who had diligently mas- 
 tered, on the battle-field as well as in the drill-room, 
 the soldier's art, so that he might be of efficient 
 service to that cause when the day of its armed resurrec- 
 tion came — this pious object was in sweet harmony with 
 the subject selected, and the manner in which it was treated. 
 Heartily we congratulate all who were present, upon the 
 learned, touchiug and elevating discourse with which they 
 were favored — heartily congratulate the friends of the poor 
 but brave emigrant upon so gratifying a fulfllmcnt of their 
 kindly wishes in regard of those whom his death has made 
 desolate — and as heartily congratulate our friend, who gen- 
 erously volunteered this good service and high tribute, 
 upon the success which establishes for him amongst his 
 oountrymen so useful, brilliant and indisputableja position. 
 —N. Y. Iris/i News. 
 
 < m»^ > 
 
 AVii.r. LaoerBeer Intoxicate? — On the trial of some 
 licpior dealers in Brooklyn, N. Y,, the question of (he in- 
 toxicating properties of lager beer was raised. Several 
 witnesses swore that it was intoxicating. In tlic defence 
 witnesses were equally positive that it was not. One wit- 
 ness swore that he drank on a wager, iu tho city of Brook- 
 lyn, seven and a half gallons of lager beer in two hours! 
 Another one hundred and sixty quarts in one day I An- 
 other thirty pints within five minutes. Another took fifteen 
 glasses to give him an appetite for breakfast. Enough said. 
 
 Transportod for life— the man who marries happily, 
 ■Width hair is the chalk with which time keeps his scores 
 
 two, three, or four score, ns the case may be — ou a man's 
 
 head. 
 
24 
 
 IIUSU MISCELLANY. 
 
 UKIEN llOIKOIMUIv. 
 Bricii Dolrlioliulic, of llic lioii*ii of llorcnioii, wan one of 
 tlic luoft Illlll.triuu^kill|^l orlii'liiml.ninl"" mimy nccouun 
 drrrni'Miii t'arly notice hi llio Mi^cKLLANV. X'ut only nun 
 he remnikahie for lil» loi c for rellKiuii, (ll»vl|iliiie uiul irnuil 
 lawn, but uilier iiualiliea ul' llie iiiiiiU, ua well un Iiih iliMiu- 
 Kuialinlmllllury t'\|ilull«. liix iiiUuiiiitiiblenilluiiil liiuiery 
 led lilni ftulll lieiliK 11 liroviliclal king to a** nine the ,-i-e|ilre 
 of the naliun— ilellirunini; Mnliolii, and iinllin); In liiniMir 
 other diM;urdant eleinentd uecefiiary, he eiiteri-d npnn the 
 ta»k of rt'dii'iuiii^ auil governing the kingduin, llnvin^ 
 beaten the Dnues lit l>leuvuBuin, n lieie he let) tiUUO uluiii und 
 rtueil their city, he received ai4urai:ceii titat if he iiNiiinied 
 tlie unliuitnl crown llie gei.eialily tlie |irinces would he 
 in hi» favor, tlie l)^l)pre^a (lie Ihines Heie making in the 
 country deiimnded » nuiiy of theixuple, mid llie princes ol 
 I onuaughl and MMll^lc^ decreed that Mulichi eliuuld Lc de- 
 high and bv wavn of the land. Ho 
 lettered the'eliurcli pro|K'rty. and re- 
 built them and llie mouueterief. re-es- 
 tabllnhed uuiieuiliis and public 
 scliuolr. eiicourux«'tl tl e prote.s.-ors oi 
 •II thetelencei'. vol hut literature at:uiu 
 fluurii-I.ed in the land: he re- lined to 
 llie old iirnpiirt 
 
 throned, nud the icejitre tniu^fcrred tu llrien, n prince, 
 king of .MiiiiMer. who na» capable >if ivprerriiig the iimo- 
 lence of tlu»e baibarliiii!^. njioii wlileh thien inarelied an 
 army to 'lam and obliged )Ialiehi tu abdicate— lie waa 
 deolnred monarch of the whole island in 1002 liuvlng 
 rt'ceived the fealty of liX'onnor King of C'onnuiiglit, ho 
 then nnirched to L'l^ter, received liigh lionor IVoni Maliint- 
 biiry. Arehbiiiiioi) ofthal t^ee, und was acknowledged mon- 
 arch by Hugh (I'Neil, King of I'Ister. 
 
 Having N'ltled thealliiliK of the nation by an aKi<enibly 
 of lti^hop8 und noble>', who solemnly crowned him, he 
 enacted laws for the public welfaie, w liich were so strictly 
 enforced during his reign, that it became traditionary, and 
 liandcd down to posterity. Ipon this liicl, und the posi- 
 tive obecrvaucc of the law, Mooru wrote the wcll-kuowu 
 poem — 
 
 and placed gti 
 hccau.-ed good r 
 ■ bo bnilland iiiuile 
 Irish people lir.-l 
 Perhaps no k)ii;;ij 
 &t a uioie rapid 
 reign than di<l li 
 Internal peti 
 V|ileiid of rcl 
 
 Ull>l liinl;: 
 ill hi." rri;.-l 
 
 iifetv 
 
 uiloptid 
 
 UllK'S, 
 
 tlo irisliL-d 
 
 lUV Olio 
 
 ■ lirieii. 
 and ilnproveinent, 
 II. love of order, mu- 
 tnai and nnlionni con tidencc, union 
 Of national pnr|K»e, lUid nuiversal 
 pro.-|)eritv, weie atlribuluble to his 
 ■ bllitv aiiil wisdom: bnt war was hi- 
 evitable. and the growth of national 
 pros|H'rily deliuinded that it should 
 not lieavoiilcd. 
 
 jleiluiclnid visited his sister, at 
 llrieu's imlace, uiieie lie was insulted 
 bv Urien's eldest son. Morroitgh. lie 
 k-n the pliicc in liigb dudgeon nilli- 
 out taking leave, entered ii.io an uUi- 
 uiice with .""itrick. King of the Kanes 
 of Uubliii, who. bv express to Den- 
 mark, secured the kiii^. who bad his 
 hopes now awakeiu'd. aiul was de- 
 terinineil to ree"\ er « liiit hf eon.-ider- 
 cd his own hack apitiii He M>nt an 
 urniv which wa.ji.ii;i-.l liv 4ii(Hi Xor- 
 we'iuu . Iti.'etlier with tlie Dunes of 
 DiiTilin iii.d I.,iii-i. ,, loniied a largo 
 anny . Itrit- n >a» t he gathering storm, 
 and' piepaieil with nil due diligence 
 
 to meet it. 
 
 He 
 
 nbled the Mnii- 
 
 o... .,..ops, hi 'allies of Coiinaught, 
 and Jlalichi of Jleath, witli all their 
 followei-s. about 3:i.iKlo men. He wiw 
 now eightv-cight jears of age, and 
 nlthongTi too old to take command 
 (which devolved upon his son Jlor- 
 roiigli.) Yet he took an active part in 
 tlie great .struggle. 
 
 The army muiclicd forClontarf, two 
 niilei from Dublin, wljeie the enemy 
 awaited lleni. Order being given. 
 the battle ei.inmei.eed at eight ..-eiiK k 
 in the morning, and did uol ti'rniin- 
 ate till live in flie e\eiiing. The bat- 
 tle took place on l.ood i-ridav. .\pril 
 23d, lUU though desperate and sui - 
 
 who gained a coiiip!i-le victory over 
 the enemv. The lo.-s was consider^'.hle 
 on both sides, the Dunes losing 13.00(1 
 killed; including Jloelmordha King 
 of U'lnstcr. tlic two sons of the King 
 of Denmark, and almost all the chiets 
 of their army. The loss of the Irish 
 or royal army is estimated at 7000. 
 Urien'was killed by a band of run- 
 away Danes, who fe'll upon the aged 
 man' while at pra>er. They, however, 
 were oveniikell lind cut to Jiieces. 
 Miirroiigh (rltrien. son of the king, 
 sluin. us was also hissoii Tnrlniigh, 
 
 
 and I 
 made tlie 
 
 of • 
 
 persons of distinctli 
 Is a noble sacrilicc to 
 nntp-. llrien, Mlirroiig 
 
 And Tnrloiigh ure said to have been 
 buried at Swords, thence removed to 
 Ardmagh by order of the ISisliop, 
 bnt bv others said to be buried at Kll- 
 mainliam. 
 
 managed, the sales were on an average £70,000 per annum, 
 and the silk manufacture of Dublin arrived at the highest 
 state of prosj>erity. But this 'source of encouragement was 
 done away by act of parliament, by which tlie Dublin So- 
 ciety was prohibited from disposing of any part of its funds 
 fertile support of any house in which Irish silk goods were 
 sold by wholesale or retail. From that time the Irish silk 
 warehouse declined. 
 
 It does not enter within our scope to point out what 
 night be done for the revival of Irish manufactures; wc 
 merely mention facts, and indulge in the lio|>e that Ireland 
 will not always be miserable. A gleam of liojie dawns 
 upon our country;— may that good Being who delights in 
 the happiness of his creatures, unite all hearts, and " knit 
 them together " in the bonds of a holy brotherhood. 
 
 llich and rare were the gems slie wore, 
 And a bright gold ring on her wand she borcj 
 But U, her beauty was far beyond 
 Her sparkling geini, orBUow-whltc wand. 
 " Lady dost thou not fear to stray, 
 So lone and lovely through this bleak way? 
 Are Krln'a sons so good or cold 
 As not to be tempted by woman or gold/" 
 " Sir Knight, I feel nut the least alarm; 
 Ko son of Krin will oll'erine harm; 
 For though they love woman and golden store, 
 "Sir Knight they love honor and virtue morel" 
 tin slie went, and her maiden sinlle 
 In safety liglited her round the (ii?cii Isle; 
 Ami blessed for ever is she who relied 
 I'pon Krin's lionor and l^riu's pride. 
 Showing that beauty und gold were sacred even in the 
 Thus fell "llrien the Brave," on 
 limid Friday; ho wished to avoid the 
 light if possiiile on that liolv day, but 
 the barbarians took this for cowardice, 
 they knew not tin- man. and having 
 invoked the Ciod of Hallhs. he fought 
 for Iielmid and for religimi. lie 
 conquered and rid his country ol 
 rarliin'iMis, who had tniinpled upon 
 the people and desecrated the churches 
 for aiu years. The Dunes were never 
 more able to rally in sirenglh, but in 
 England eominltteil dreadlhl slaugh- 
 ter yeais aflerwnrds. 
 
 IKISH MAMFACTfRES. 
 
 The woollen manufactnie of Ireland 
 wnis very early celebrated. In the 
 time of F.dw;iid 111. in 1;!27, Irish 
 Iri^e.x Mcic fri-^'lv iiniMn-ted into Kng- 
 laii.l li,„n I)„l,liii, dutv free. Fven 
 in llaly in Ihe vear 13.-)7, at a time 
 when the woollens ol that country 
 had attaine<l an high degree of jwr- 
 fection, and siimntuarj' laws were en- 
 acted to restiain fuxiiry in dress, Irish 
 n demund, and imported. 
 11S2, not only serges bnt 
 
 — . of woollens, were so 
 
 sought after, and the nisliion of the 
 try so approved, that the Pope's 
 agent obtained from Iticiiard II. a 
 licence to export, duty free, mantles 
 made of Irish cloth. 
 
 Ill the vear lnT.3, Sir ^V. Temple, at 
 the renue.-i of l...ni Ks-ex. then Vice- 
 roy ol Irclaiiii, |,Ml.li>lieil a formal 
 overtun- for r.-liii.|iii>liiiig the woollen 
 trade, ixtrpt in llic j<,»ct branches, 
 thai ii hii^'ht 11. ii iiiicrruje with that of 
 Fii'jiaiid, inging lli<- Mijierior fitness 
 or this c.iuniry Inr Ihe linen trade. 
 
 Iniin, iliatcly ullerthc cessation oftho 
 di^t 111 lances in Ireland, in IfiSg, the 
 wnnllcii manufiiclurewas established 
 t. 1 1 . II Klenble ixtmt in the I iber- 
 lii ol liiihliii iliescenrit} of prop- 
 irl\iii mill liter tht oajiitulutlon of 
 linuiitk imiiicid 1 number of Jng 
 li Ii 111 uiulji liiicistoavail theinsehes 
 ol Its 'iicil d\inlv( —the cheap 
 ne sol labor, the txtilknci of wool, 
 and tliL Hbiiiidaiict of the i ice'sarics 
 ol hli iiid to Mith hue 1 ho 
 ( c.onil 1 1 mill,,, spiialii. hi ind the 
 ^\< 11.1 s-.iiiii, «,K 111, 11 1,11,11 and 
 
 „iii 1,1 nil, III, r, 1 1,11,, ,,l ill that 
 « 1 oiiuknf anil ii pi,|al,i. in the 
 ci{\ \\ hat a contra t Hit 1 ibcrty 
 presents' 
 
 lilt silk manufactuic is generally 
 
 " "' *~ '■" ' ' 11 intiodiitcrl by 
 
 d to In 
 
 lii„. 
 
 ,.l 1 tahlisliid 
 
 I IliiWiii lioilh allc 
 
 till 
 
 In the 
 
 Critics. — It is a little singular that tlic mass should 
 attacli much importance to tl;e small opinions of evcry- 
 
 BRIEN BOIKOIMHE. 
 
 day critics. Because a man happens to have the fa- 
 cillicsofy)i(W('.s/iiH'/ his view and opinions to the world 
 though he he tlie veriest blockhead on earth, his ver- 
 dict is often of more than ordinniy weitrlit amoDg 
 men. Indeed, a .Juhnsou could not infiuenee some 
 men by his verbal o|iinion, to the extent that an igno- 
 ramus can iDfluencc them through ' press and types.' 
 The 'dignity of print ' has a strange effect. Although 
 it is hut one man who speaks, and he may have one 
 hundred opjioneiits who may argue suecessfullv 
 against him, yet they will all fail with the public. But ' 
 let either of them /mhlisli the same opinion, and the 
 ore, which was rich and weighty, becomes refined. 
 Common critics, moreover, arc always ready to find j 
 imperfections, for thus will the public be made ac- I 
 quaintcd with their pcnelnillon. In fact, many of them j 
 
 ,u 
 
 s JU , 
 
 1 iihi 
 1, Di 
 
 ling 
 
 bllU 
 
 Ik 
 
 « lull. 
 
 liK e 
 
 tub 
 
 111 
 
 till m 
 
 inaf,ii 
 
 lent 
 
 
 
 c sup 
 
 llv ret 
 
 Wen 
 
 the g 
 
 to w 
 
 ude in 
 
 
 ,|U 
 
 llll^ ol 
 
 irn 
 \en 
 lods 
 
 'l-ll 
 
 the 
 
 ^aifil 
 trade 
 
 niof 
 the 
 thus 
 
 seem to think that to criticise is to find fault; ' else 
 (they reason) where is the necessiiy of critieiim ? It 
 i« said that any fool can lire a house. So can any 
 man criticise a hook ; liut very few can build the one 
 or write the other. Many of the vinegar-critics of the 
 day who haunt the shores of literature, would utterly 
 fail in penning even the prefiice to a respeclalilc book. 
 It is a recorded and well-known fact that many of our 
 standard works were rejected for the want of a pub- 
 lisher, owing to the unfavourable opinion of stolid rule 
 and-figure critics ; but when they came before the peo- 
 ple, who, judging from the impulses of the heart, are 
 never wrong, how soon was their verdict reversed ! 
 The PEorLE are the only true tribunal. They sepa- 
 rate, with the hand of a refiner, the dross from the gold. 
 By them genius is preserved, and pretension discarded 
 
IRISH MISCELLAIS^Y. 
 
 25 
 
 IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 BOSTON, SATURDAY, FEBRUARY 20, 1858. 
 
 rUBLISlIER^S NOTICE. 
 The first No. of the Misckllany being entirely exhaust- 
 ed, tlic rublishers beg leave to announce that they will 
 shortly issue a Second Edition, and parties requiring cop- 
 ies of the Slime, are requested to forward their orders im- 
 mediately. JACKSON, FOYNES & CO. 
 
 ruBLiSHERS — No. 2 Spring Lane — Boston. 
 
 The bill to enable atheists to testify in courts of Justice, 
 which passed the House, when it reached the Senate, was, 
 as Dogberry says, "damned to evorlasllng redemption," 
 and " serve it right." No man who denies the existence of 
 a (tod 18 fit to give evidence before any tribunal. 
 
 It IS our intention to keep our readers informed of all 
 mattt IS of interest which transpire in the "house on the 
 lull "and for that purpose shall furnish them with a weekly 
 summaiy of passing events. 
 
 THE LEGISLATDRE. 
 The " Great and General Court of Massachusetts," isnow 
 in the second month of its existence, and in all candor, we 
 must say that it has accomplished a fair, if not more than 
 an average share, of public business. The various appropri- 
 ation bills have become laws, having received the approv- 
 al of His Excellency, and the wheels being well greased, 
 thereby, it is of course natural to suppose, that the " wag- 
 on" will run smooth. It is expected by the dominant par- 
 ty, that their labors will be terminated by the 20th of 
 Jlarch, certainly not later than the 25th, and taking into 
 consideration the rapidity with which they have thus far dis- 
 patched business, no danger can be anticipated as to the re- 
 sult. The constitutional amendment of last year, limiting 
 the length of the sessions to one hundred days, has not yet 
 been acted on in this Legislature, but there is every reason 
 to believe that it will speedily be adopted. 
 
 One great cause of a short session, will undoubtedly be 
 found in the salary bill, which limits the pay of members 
 to three hundred dollars for tlie entire session, be it longer 
 or shorter. A natural seqeuce however, is that the sessions 
 will be shortened, so much so that they will come with- 
 in tlie scope of Uis Excellency's idea as set forth in his in- 
 augural, that the business of the Legislature can be com- 
 pleted in si.xt)' days. If such should be the case, it will af- 
 ford members a per diem of five dollars, which is a very 
 pretty penny in these times of monetary depression. 
 
 Among the most important matters which have passed 
 the House, is the amendment to the Constitution, provid- 
 ing that foreigners shall not be allowed to vote until tliey 
 have spent a t^vo years residence afler naturalization. Dur- 
 ing the debate on the question, able and masterly speeches 
 were made in defence of Irish emigrants, by Messrs. Riley 
 and Young, but as might be expected, without effect, for the 
 Republican majority were determined on the measure in 
 the outset. 
 
 Speeches by the opposition however eloquent, are thrown 
 away where a party in power possessed of a large working 
 niajoritv, are pre-disposed to favor a measure on party 
 grounds. 
 
 The proposed amendment to the Constitution, providing 
 for the abolition of the Governor's Council, has already 
 passed the Senate, and is to be acted upon in the House. — 
 If adopted by the Legislature, and confirmed next year, 
 (as constitutional amendments have to be passed upon 
 by two successive l.*gislatures) the measure will be of im- 
 mense benefit to the State in a pecuniary point of view. — 
 By this amendment, it is contemplated to make the Lieut. 
 Governor president of the Senate, thus giving a dignity 
 and prominence to an office which has, Iieretofore been 
 rather ornamental than useful. The Senate like that of the 
 General Government, is to have the confirmation of all ap- 
 pointments made by the Executive, and when the Legisla- 
 ture is not in sc-^sion, the constitutional adviser.? of the 
 Governor will be the heads of departments — thus virtually 
 making them cabinet ofiicers. 
 
 The joint special committee having the subject in charge, 
 have, in accordance with the views expressed in the Gover- 
 nor's address, reported in favor oPa consolidation of the 
 Courts of Probate and Insolvency. If the measure passes 
 both branches, which is rather doubtful, it will be an easy 
 way of disposing of the vexed question of the removal of 
 Judge Loring. If Judge Loring is to be removed, and 
 we question the policy of the step to the Republican party, 
 wliy not take the open and manly course of imijeachmeut 
 or by address of Legislature? Certainly such a course 
 w-ould be far jireferable to the underhanded one of " stab- 
 bing men i' the dark." 
 
 THE DRAMA. 
 
 Theatricals in Boston, are .it the present time, in a 
 mo^t nourishing condition ; and from present indica- 
 tions, the bad business of the early part of the season, 
 will be fully compensated for, judging from the largo 
 audiences which nighlly throng the viirious places of 
 amusement. 
 
 At the Boston, the Ravels, have for the past three 
 weeks, been delighting the juveniles, and ' children of 
 a larger growth,' by their inimitable performances. — 
 The new pantomimes of 'Bianco,' and the 'Golden 
 Egg,' have been decided successes — the former, in its 
 magic transformations and wonderfully executed tricks, 
 by far exceding anything of a like nature that we ever 
 remember to have witnessed. Marzetti, with his in- 
 creasing years, appears to have lost none of his pristine 
 elasticity, and his performance of the ape is as fresh to 
 us, as when we witnessed it years ago, when our hair 
 was like the raven's wing, and not like that of the 
 father of the late lamented Prince Hamlet, a gentle- 
 man concerning whom, one W. Shakspearc, has given 
 ns slight information, and whose capillary was a ' sa- 
 ble, silvered.' But why is it that these mountob.inks 
 — for delightful as their performances are to us, they 
 are nothing more — Iiave the faculty of monopolizing 
 all the business — to draw crowded houses — to gladden 
 the hearts of managers and box-office keepers, while 
 the pure, the unadulterated, and legitimate drama, for 
 the production of which, the ' loftier academe ' was 
 reared, is ' whistled down the wind T Can the query 
 be answered by a parody — ' not that the public love 
 the drama less, but that they love the Ravel's more "?' 
 We think not. The true solution of the question is 
 that the legitimate drama 'has been sadly neglected 
 'Tis true that at this temple of the muses, whatever 
 has been produced, has been put upon the stage in that 
 unexceptionable manner for which this establishment 
 has earned a wide spread reputation ; but it is in the 
 executive branch, the carrying out of the drama, tlie 
 portrayal of characters by the stock company that, the 
 drama in this, its chosen temple, has been suffered to 
 die an ignominious death. It is useless to set up the 
 cry of ' hard times,' and say that to that may be at- 
 tributed the bad business of the early part of the sea- 
 son. Surely the times are as hard now, yet nightly is 
 the Theatre thronged to its utmost capacity, and on 
 many occasions hundreds have been turned away, be- 
 ing unable to gain even standing room, and the reason 
 that tlie Theatre is so filled, is that the performances 
 are the very best of their class — they can be depended 
 upon ; no one is imperfect, and every artist from the 
 highest to the lowest is a thorough master of the brancli 
 of the profession lie represents. Now such has not 
 been the case with the stock company of the Boston 
 Theatre this season. Where do we find people to 
 supply the jilaces of the Woods' — and Mrs. Barrow ? 
 Instead of the manager keeping up to the standaid of 
 e.\ccllence as exhibited in former seasons, he has this 
 season given us one of the weakest companies we ever 
 remember to have seen — men and women totally un- 
 fitted for the positions thfy have assumed, and whose 
 execrable performances have disgusted the audiences, 
 and made them keep aloof from the Theatre, and the 
 nightly show was, ' a beggaily account of empty box- 
 es.' Even the succession of stars we were favored witli, 
 failed to make any impression, owing to the wretched 
 support they received. We think that if tlie manager 
 had given us the best company that could have been 
 procured, instead of one of the worst, he would have 
 had no reason to complain of bad business during any 
 part of the season. AVc understand, that on the dc- 
 partnro of the Ravel's, the season will be eked out by 
 Ulman's opera company, Charlotte Cushman, Edwin 
 
 Booth, and others, and we sincerely trust, that so far 
 as Miss Cushman is concerned, a leading man, of at 
 least, respectable attainments, may be secured to sup- 
 port her. Manager Barry will have a formidable op- 
 ponent in the Howard Athcn;eum, under the direction 
 of Mrs. Barrow, and it behooves him to put his best 
 foot foremost, and instead of, as at present, ' taking a 
 back seat,' put himself on the front bench, and )>y so 
 doing success will be a certainty. 
 
 PRINCESS ROYAL. 
 
 The papers tell us that the Princess Royal of Eng- 
 land is married. England was Inebriated with joy, 
 and every Briton, from fhe Giant's Causeway to the 
 land of Bruce, shared in the common joy with his 
 Cockney brother, and drank the health of his Dutch 
 mightiness and his monr/rel spouse. Loud did the bells 
 ring, and more people thronged fhe streets of London 
 than when the linen draper, Julin Gilliin, ran his 
 steeple-chase. Punch and Judies amused the ' bone 
 and muscle,' (dirt and poverty,) while the 'show' at 
 the castle amused and tickled the aristocracy, who roll 
 in afHuence, while their beer swilling slaves are dying 
 from hunger. 
 
 The American press is teeming with the 'event,' 
 and dishes up sweet morceaux for its republican read- 
 ers. They evidently like the courtly grandeur of the 
 surroundings, and seem to think this blending of the 
 eminent/i/ Anglo-Saxon blood, to be hopeful for the 
 world. Truly, it is an event (or which Britons should 
 feel proud — Britons, who ' never will be slaves.' An 
 event which tells the stall-fed Briton that the blood of 
 an Englishman — such as fought at Hastings and 
 Agincourt — is not rich enough to comm.ingle with the 
 turgid stream of a cnt throat Hessian. An event 
 which throws another burden upon the worthy and 
 suffering people — another link to the chain of their 
 slavery. Let the free Briton sit down and count the 
 cost of this happy event — the forishadower of a ' fevv 
 more left,' for the ihonarch promises to realize the 
 prophecy of O'Connell, ' to beat his grandmother, and 
 she had iwenti/ '.' Verily, the summing np would add 
 a pretty figure to the 'birth-right' of a Briton — ^the 
 national debt. While he ruminates over it, we will 
 say a word about another phase of the event. They 
 were rejoicing over the event in Ireland — old Ireland 
 — loyal Ireland — and bonfires and illuminations glad- 
 dened the hearts of gallant militia officers and patriot 
 shop keepers ; and the new loyal Irish shouted, mad 
 as March hares, and drank the health of our ' beloved 
 queen.' Tight, neat lads, those Irish boys, particu- 
 larly in a ' free fight.' God bless old Wexford, and 
 more ' power' to the brave lads who refused to bow 
 the knee and shout with joy for the Dutch spawn who 
 lord it over them. Oh, there is some manhood left yet 
 in old Ireland ; the famine has not consumed it ail 
 — there is hope yet in old Ireland. * 
 
 We are pleased to see that the celebrated Hutchinson 
 Family, have again commenced their pleasing concerts, 
 and that the lovers of good ransicin Beverly and Dan- 
 vers, will have an opportunity of hearing them in 
 choice selections of their rarest gems during the ensu- 
 ing week. 
 
 (In consequence of a press of matter, we arc nnder the 
 necessity of deferring the storj- of the '' Landlord and 
 Tenant," until next week-] 
 
 TnE QOEEN vs. THE Rkv. Mn. CoxwAY.— The Court of 
 (Queen's Bench did not pronounce judgment yesterday on 
 the motion to change the venue, in consequence, it is said, 
 of a disagreement between the learned judges. How far 
 this may be true or not, cannot be positively nscertaincd, 
 until judgement is delivered. One or two important re- 
 sults, however, flow from the postponement, according to 
 the prncficc of the court. No trial can now take place at 
 the next after sittings, even thongh the crown succeed on 
 the motion. Next result— that if the venue be changed, the 
 trial cannot take place until the aftcr-sitthigs of Easier 
 Term. So here we have a necessary delay of five months 
 before the great duel begins. These are accidents in time, 
 and it is-most probably that the House of Commons that or- 
 dered the prosecution of the Rev. Messrs. Couway and Ry- 
 an may cease to exist before the termiuafiou of fhe trial. 
 
26 
 
 miSH MISCELLANY. 
 
 THB ODD COBNER. 
 
 Crlof knits two licarts in clost-r bomln than Imppincss over 
 can; anil vommou sulTiTlngs arc far etrougor links tliau 
 common Joys. 
 
 An old Scotch prfoclier saiil ofa yaung opponpnt, that lio 
 Itad 'a great di'ul of the yonng man, not a little uf the old 
 uiau, very little of the new man.' 
 
 Tlio difll-reuce between war anil peace has been well de- 
 fined by one ol'tlie nnciouts — • In lime of peace tliosons bu- 
 ry tlieir falherji; in time of war the I'utliem bury tlieirsons.' 
 
 Li'ave your grievances, as Napolean did his letters, uu- 
 oiK-ned for thr«c weeks, and it is astonishing how few of 
 them, by that time, will niiuire answering. 
 
 Kail in ChrWlan soul, with the design oftliy Saviour, who 
 by olevntiDg thy desires above the world, would elevate thee 
 above the catastrophies of it. 
 
 Nature makes us poor only when wc want necessaries, but 
 custom gives tile name of poverty to the wuut of superflui- 
 ties. 
 
 Gonerosily.wrong placed, bccometh a vice ; a princely mind 
 will undo a private fliniily. 
 
 Uarsh words are like hailstones, which. If melted, would 
 ftrtllint tlic tender plants they batter down. 
 Uany wastetheir inoniings in anticipating their afternoons, 
 In regretting their mornings. 
 
 'This iaa M.Tgaiu,' as the spider said when be caught 
 the fly. 
 
 The road ambition travels istoo narrow for fi'iendship.too 
 crookiHl for love, too nigged for honesty, and too dark for 
 ecieucc. 
 
 The best way to discipline one's heart against scandal, is 
 to believe all stories too false which ought not to be true. 
 
 Spare moments arc the gold dust of time. Of all the por- 
 tions of «ur life SfMire moments are the most fruitful in good 
 or evil. They are the gaps through which temptations liiid 
 the easiest access to the garden of the soul. 
 
 The barren flg-tree was not cursed because it bore bitter 
 fruit, but because it bore no fruit. 
 
 The vanity of human life is like a river, constantly passing 
 away, and yet constantly coming on. 
 
 A great curse of English society is the folly, or, in many 
 instances, eatlier the crime, of apiiearance-making. flow 
 many a ruined family might be well doing and happily cir- 
 cumstanced but fur this folly I — how many a crime would 
 never have been committed if it had not been for this social 
 curse ! 
 
 The less a nmn does the more fuss he makes. A hen with 
 one chicken does more scratching than if she had u family of 
 fifteen. 
 
 Relieve misfortune quickly. A man is like an egg, the 
 longer he is kex>t in hot water the liarder he is when taken 
 out. 
 
 Young ladies are like arrows — they are all in a quiver till 
 the beaux come and can't go ofl* without them. 
 
 Ko dust afll'Cts the eye like gold dust, and no glasses like 
 brandy glap.<es. 
 
 Women have more power in tlieir looks than men have 
 in their laws, and more power in their tears than men have 
 iu judgments. 
 
 ' Jack, your wife is not so pensive as she used to be.' 'Jv'o 
 she has left that off and turned e.\ -pensive.' 
 
 A lady passing down Broadway, X. Y., near Fourteenth 
 street, a few days since, when opposite a butcher's stand, 
 wuH startled by the e.\cited appearance of an intelligent 
 looking woman rushing toward her, with clasped hands 
 and a look of despair, exclaiming, ' I am hungry, I am hun- 
 gry! Stepping inside the store, the lady procured for her 
 some potatoes and a piece of meat. The hungry womau 
 quickly gathered the potatoes into her pocket, then seizing 
 the bloody meat, put it to her lips and ait ii to thr bonr ; 
 then saying, ' I must take this home to Eddie,' rushed wild- 
 ly from the store, leaving the salesman and the lady as- 
 tounded. 
 
 The Honkymoow. — A clergyman being much press- 
 ed by a lady of his nccquaintance to preach a ser- 
 mon on the first Sunday after lier mai'riagc, complied, 
 and tho-so the following passage in the Psalms for his 
 text : — 'And let tlicre be abundance of peace — while 
 the moon enduretii.' 
 
 A Horse of ANOxnER Color. — Little Boy — 
 When I get bigger, Mr Brown, you II let me ride your 
 horse, won't you? Mr. Brown — Why Charlie, I hav- 
 en't any horse ; what made }ou think so? Charlie — 
 Why, I heard mother say this morning that you'd 
 been riding a high horse lately. 
 
 QcESTios IN- METAriiT.sn-8.— Ifa man's goods and 
 chattels are his elfects, is that man the cause of his 
 plate and furniture ? 
 
 From the ' Irish Abroad and at Home,' 
 COSTELLOE AND OLD BAILY I'lJACTICE. 
 
 In the middle and towards the end of the lust cen- 
 tury there figured at the Irish bar another Muyo man, 
 a passage in whose life ,will relieve the tragic talc I 
 have just been telling. lie wus a descendant uf the 
 ancient and honorable Norman house of Costelloe — 
 (vourNagle and your Nangic arc varieties of (Ac Cos- 
 telloe, be it known. J He had receivtil an excellent 
 cilucution, and possessed considerable legal knowledge, 
 lie was shrewd, of much seeming gravity ; but wus 
 playful as a kitten, cunning as a fox, mischievous as a 
 monkey; ' A I'lIIow of infinite jest,' — a living joke ; 
 witty himself, and the cause of wit ir other men. lie 
 was, although his family hud resided during six cen- 
 turies iu Ireland, a true Norman. 
 
 lie had been in the year 174."), and subsequently, a 
 student of the Jliddlc Temple London, and had not 
 denied himself any of the pleasures, or indeed any of 
 the adventures of which the English metropolis all'ord- 
 ed, that is to the utmost extent of the means supplied 
 by his family. He thus acquired vast reputation of a 
 particular kind among bis cotemporaries, and even 
 became the hero of a talc in which he was made to ap- 
 pear a staunch Jacobite, guilty of hij;h treason in short 
 in harboring the Pretender m his chambers. 
 
 In justice to the councellor's character for loyalty, it 
 must be stated, however, that he was miligned in that 
 re-iipect. I bad heard and laughed at the story myself, 
 and had even told it once or twice with much success, 
 I had occasion to refer one day, however, to some of 
 the old chroniclers of France, and found iu Brantome 
 the adventure which had been ascribed to Costelloe, 
 related of the Duke of Orleans, brother of Charles VI. 
 Continuing my investigation, I hit upon it also in the 
 'Esrais IIistori(|UCs of St. Foix,' and in an English 
 version of it by Dr. Gilbert, in his ' View of Society 
 in Europe.' 
 
 This story was a specimen of a hundred anecdotes of 
 ' The Counsellor,' wliich I refrain from giving here, 
 not, however, because there is any doubt of correct- 
 ness. Fortunately there is one which is not liable to 
 the objection that imposes silence on me respecting the 
 others, and wliich will serve to portray my hero in his 
 proper colors. 
 
 Ills terms served, Costelloe was called to the bar in 
 Dublin, where he gave unquestionable proofs of tal- 
 ent ; but whether though indolence or taste, eschew- 
 ing equity or common law, he devoted himself to what 
 is termed Old Baily practice, and in which he was un- 
 riyalled. 
 
 One morning, at the time when Costelloe was in 
 the height of his reputation, the city of Dublin was 
 frightened from its propriety by the announcement that 
 Gloadowe's hank had been plundered of a large sum 
 of gold, by the chief cashier, to whom its charge had 
 been intrusted. The alleged culprit was immedi- 
 ately taken into custody, brought before the sitting 
 magistrate, interrogated, and the proofs of his guilt 
 being held manfest, committed to Newgate. The whole 
 process was terminated by eleven o'clock, A. M. 
 
 Before the prisoner had reached his destination, 
 Cestelloe was made aware of all the circumstances of 
 the ease by one of the committing magistrate's clerks, 
 whom he kept constantly in pay. This man had hard- 
 ly left Costelloe's house after acquittingbimself of this 
 duty, when the Counsellor received a letter inviting 
 
 him to repair forthwith to Newgate to see Mr. , 
 
 just brought in, who desired his advice. 
 
 Costelloe proceeded at once to Newgate, for such a 
 course was not then interdicted to practitioners by 
 |)rivate resolutions of the bar ; but even had it been, 
 he was not a man to be turned from his purpose bv 
 any rule that intcifered, however slightly, with the iu- 
 j dulgence of his humor. lie was there introduced to 
 I the cashier of Glcadowe's a man of serious, sanetimo- 
 I nious mcin,nnd of some fifty year! of age. — The usual 
 salutation over, and the door carefully closed. Costel- 
 loe, with that wondeiful loup d' otil for which he was 
 I celebrated, saw at once the species of person he had 
 
 to deal with, and begged to be informed why his pre- 
 sence had been requested. 
 
 ' You have heard, probably sir,' said the man, 'that 
 I have been the cashier of Glcadowe's bank, and that 
 it is said a large deficit has been discovered in my ac- 
 count*?' I 
 
 ' That you had been a clerk of old Gleadowc, I was ; 
 ignorant,' replied Costelloe ; ' but I have just licen in- 
 formed that his cashier has appropriated to himself 
 one of his money-bags, in fact that the bank has been 
 robbed by the rascal of a whole heap of gold.' 
 
 ' Rascal ! That is a harsh word, sft-.' 
 
 'Not if applicable.' 
 
 ' Well, sir I shall not dispute terms, however painful 
 to an honest, conscientious man to bear them. I am 
 the party in (lucstion.' 
 
 ' And you done the trick ? ' 
 
 ' Sir ! ' 
 
 ' You sacked the swag 1 ' 
 
 ' I don't understand you ! ' 
 
 ' You've gotten the money i ' 
 
 ' Really, sir, I cannot comprehend you.' 
 
 ' You roblied the bank '. ' 
 
 ' Do you mean to insult me? I rob the bank! I 
 cheat my employer! I ]ilunder my benefactor, and 
 preserve the fruits of it ! No, sir, no ? I have not a 
 shilling in the world.' 
 
 'Then, by , you'll be hanged.' 
 
 ' What can you mean ? ' 
 
 ' I'll make it as dear to you, as that those fetters 
 are of iron. If you have robbed the bank, you must 
 have at least some of the money, and can attord to pay 
 me well for saving your life. If you are innocent, and 
 consequently penniless, you will be weighed, as stue 
 as was Cdhir na gapind. 
 
 ' Wheiglied !' 
 
 ' In the City Justice scales. The case is spoken of 
 everywhere, with this addition, that the proofs against 
 you arc irrefutable.' 
 
 ' Then there is no hope ? ' 
 
 ' None, if you be what you say yourself — guiltless ? 
 for you cannot afi'ord to retain me, who, probably of 
 all the bar, could alone give you a chance.' 
 
 Overwhelmed and horrified, the hypocrite, after 
 some hesitation, admitcd that he was in a condition to 
 remunerate the Counsellor for undertaking his de- 
 fence. ' What is your fee, sir ? ' he asked. 
 
 ' Ten per cent. ! ' 
 
 ' Ten per cent ? Why thai is a thousand pounds ! ' 
 
 ' So much the better for both of us.' 
 
 After many futile attempts to beat down the Coun- 
 sellor's demand, tlie prisoner acceded to it, and gave 
 an order upon his wife for the enormons sum of a 
 thousand pounds, on an understanding, that if the 
 Counsellor's exertions should fail, he would return 
 nine hundred and fifty pounds of it to the uldow ! 
 
 Immediately upon receiving this draft, Costelloe left 
 the i)ri8on, and without waiting to present it, proceed- 
 ed to the Crown Otlice, situate in South Cope Street, 
 on the site of the rear or court-yard of the jiresent 
 Commercial Buildings, which at that period resembled 
 in its functions the head police oflice of modern times. 
 The sitting magistrate had risen ; but the chief clerk 
 was at his desk when Costelloe entered. ' Good morn- 
 ing, Mr. Johnson,' said he. The clerk returned the 
 salute. 'Anything in my way to-day Mr. Johnson ? ' 
 he asked with the most perfect nonvhalance. 
 
 ' What, Counsellor! Have you not beard of the 
 robbery at Glcadowe's ? ' 
 
 ' Glcadowe's ? The bank 1 Not a word of it.' 
 
 ' 1 es ; the cashier, who was deemed the most trust- 
 worthy of men, has plundered the chest.' 
 
 ' Plundered the chest? ' 
 
 ' Extracted from it ten thousand guineas in gold 
 made up in rouleaux, and has substituted for them as 
 many farthings.' 
 
 ' And got clear off ? ' 
 
 'No. He is safe in Newgate.' 
 
 'What a scoundrel ! ' 
 
 ' A consummate one : but be will suffer for it. The 
 evidence against him is conclusive ; for part of the stol- 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 27 
 
 en property was found in a secret draw of his desk at 
 home.' 
 
 ' Did you not say that the money alistractcd was in 
 gold ! ' 
 
 , Yes ; but those pieces have been identified.' 
 
 ' How ! One guinea is so like another ! ' 
 
 ' True ; but mai-lv the finger of Providence ! Along 
 with the guineas the villain carried off' ten foreign gold 
 coins, Dutch ducats, which were also in the safe, and 
 these hare been swoin to by his deputy, and will hang 
 him. — See here.' • 
 
 The clerk opened his desk, and took from it a small 
 box, committed to his custody for production at the 
 trial of the accused, and poured its contents into tlie 
 hands ofjhc apparently wondering Counsellor. 
 
 Costelloe examined them piece by peice with the 
 most intense interest ; turned and re-tnrncd them in 
 his hand, and again regarded them with the concen- 
 trated attention of a Jew money-changer. The scruti- 
 ny lasted so long that the clerk manifested impatience. 
 At lengih Costelloe restored them observing ;■ The 
 fellow has undone himself 
 
 ' What a fortunate oversight ! was it not Counsellor^ 
 
 'Providential, as you just now properly remarked. 
 Never was proof more clear.' 
 
 After a few words further on general subjects, the 
 Councellor left the office with a mind seemingly dis- 
 engaged. That evening liis confidential clerk and 
 secretary was seen to go on board a Liverpool packef, 
 which lay at Sir John Rogersou's Quay, and sailed 
 half an hour afterwards. 
 
 Some weeks later the prisoner was brought to trial 
 at the Commission Court, Green Streei ; and in the 
 presence of as numerous an auditory as had ever been 
 congregrated in it. As usual, the counsel for the ac- 
 cused sat immediately before him. On one side of Cos- 
 telloe was placed his clerk, with whom in the course 
 of the proceedings he frequently conversed, and whose 
 hat was on the table before him ; on the other hand of 
 Costelloe was the attornej' of the prisoner. When call- 
 ed upon to plead, the unfortunate man at the bar, with 
 much feeling and deep emotion, exclaimed : ' Not 
 guilty.' With a solemn asseveration, he added, that 
 the rouleaux of coin (farthings) found in the safe were 
 those which had existed there for years, and fomied 
 part of • the rest,' as he had been given to understand ; 
 and he bad received them from his predecessor at the 
 value indicated by the ticket attached to each packet. 
 He had never opened them. 
 
 Costelloe cross-examined but only slightly the witnes- 
 es who des posed to the preliminary facts. At length 
 came the turn of the deputy cashier, who swore that 
 he had frequenily seen in the chest the identical ten 
 Dutch pieces of gold which the Counsellor had so 
 curiously examined at the Crown Office, and which the 
 ■witness now again identified. 
 
 At this testimony Costelloe looked serious. The 
 examination in chief of the deputy cashier being over, 
 and no movement made by Costel!oe, who seemed 
 deeply absorbed in thought, the council for the Crown 
 was led to believe that no cross examination was inten- 
 ded, and accordingly told the witness that he might go 
 down. 
 
 ' Stop a moment, young man,' said the Counsellor, 
 rising, and with an abstracted and vacant gaze ; ' stop 
 a moment. I have a question or two to ask you on 
 behalf of my unhappy client, who now, fecHng the 
 peril in which his life was placed, began to weep bit- 
 terly. The witness reseated himself, and Costelloe 
 went on: ' And so, sir, you accuse your friend of 
 robbery ? ' 
 
 'I am sorrj- that my duty compels mo to give crim- 
 inatory evidence against him.' 
 
 ' No doubt — no doubt. His conviction will gain 
 you a step, eh ? ' 
 
 ' Sir, do you think it was under such an impression, 
 and with such a view that I gave my testimony'? ' 
 
 ' Certainly I do.' 
 
 A murmur of disapprobation ran through the court 
 at this insult to the witness. The counsel for the pro- 
 secution looked towards the Bench for i)rotection. 
 The Judge, however, did not interfere, nor did he re- 
 
 prove the warmth with which they excJaimcd against 
 the • indecent insinuation of Costelloe towards a wit- 
 ness whose testimony, from all that appeared, could 
 not be impugned;' but his Lordship evidently looked 
 with interest to the development of Costelloe's motive 
 knowing well that he would not have committed an 
 indecorum so powciful without some powerful secret 
 reason. The witness himself, disappointed at the fail- 
 ure of the counsel for the Crown to interest the Court 
 in his feelings, became red with indignation. Of these 
 circumstances Costelloe took no notice, but proceeded : 
 
 ' And so you swear, sir, that those indentieal peiccs 
 of gold in your band this moment — Where are they ^ 
 he asked rudely of the solicitor for the prosecution. 
 They were again handed to the witness, and Costelloe 
 resumed : 'And so you swear, sir, that those identi- 
 cal pieces of gold in your hand were in the prisoner's 
 keeping ">. — now mind, you are on your oath ! ' 
 
 ' I do swear it.' 
 
 ' Hand me those coins, sir,' said Costelloe in a tone 
 that expressed rage and fury. The witness complied, 
 and handed them to the Counsellor, who looked upon 
 them with dismay. The witness was triumphant. 
 The prisoner trembled. The court was hushed. Cos- 
 telloe sighed. 
 
 ' You have sworn positively, sir,' said he; 'and it will 
 be well for you, if truly. Here, sir, take your blood- 
 money.' He stretched out his hand, with a counte- 
 nance half-averted, as if with disgust; and, missing 
 that of the witness, let fall the mass into the hat before 
 him, by the sheerest accident in the world. 'I beg 
 your pardon, sir, for my awkwardness.' said Costelloe 
 to the witness ; the only approach to civility he had as 
 yet manifested towards him. Then, putting his hand 
 into the hat, and taking np a single piece, he said : 
 
 'You persist in swearing, sir, that this piece of mon- 
 ey, the property of Mr. Gleadowe, was in the prison- 
 er's custody ? Now mind, sir, — none of your assum- 
 ed contempt.' 
 
 'I mean nothing of the kind, sir.' 
 
 ' Then why look it ? Recollect that you are swear- 
 ing away this poor man's life. Do you still say, fel- 
 low, that this piece of money was in the ketping of the 
 prisoner ? ' 
 
 The witness, brow-beaten and bullied, became once 
 more irritated. He took the ducat into his hand, and 
 scarcely deigning to glance at it, said : 'I swear it!' 
 
 ' And this also ? ' said Costelloe, taking up another, 
 one presenting it to him. 
 
 'And that also.' 
 
 ' And this ■? ' 
 
 ' Yes.' 
 
 ' And this, and this, and this 1 ' said the knave, 
 producing from the hat, in succession, twenty other 
 peiees of a similar kind. 
 
 The witness was horror-stricken , his hair stood on 
 end. The counsel for the Crown looked blank; the 
 Judge faintly smiled. The case was abandoned, and 
 the robber saved. 
 
 The affair was quite simple. It will be recollected 
 that immediately after his scrutiny of the ducats at the 
 Crown Office, which enabled him to fix in his memory 
 their dates and effigies, Costelloe, returned home ; and 
 that, in the evening of that day, bis confidential clerk 
 sailed for Liverpool, the least observable of routes. 
 On arriving there, the man went by mail to London, 
 and thence by a Dutch packet to Rotterdam, where he 
 brought up a score of ducats of the dates indicated by 
 bis master; with what effect I have just shown. 
 
 'MiisctjLAR Christianity.' — We think this term, 
 though cleverly intended, is wrongly applied. If re- 
 ligion bangs on a question of muscle, then the Mus- 
 sulman must be the leading and most powerful mem- 
 ber of the Church. 
 
 NEWS FROM UOMK. 
 
 Steps have just been taken to complete the Welling- 
 ton testimonial in Phuenix Park, Dublin. 
 
 The pcdiee constaljles charged with producing part 
 of the Belfast riots, in the autumn, have been tried and 
 acquitted. 
 
 Mr. Deasy, M. P., has been appointed Sergeant at- 
 Law, in the room of Mr. Justice O'Brien, raised to the 
 judicial bench. 
 
 A waxwork figure in an exhibition at Limerick was 
 stripped the other day, by a dishonest visitor, of a val- 
 uable scarf worth three guineas. 
 
 WicKLow Election. — The writ will, of course, be 
 issued after the re-assembling of Parlinment. The 
 Hon. Granville Levison Proby is so far the only can- 
 didate, nor is there any great likelihood of a contest. 
 Mr. Proby is a supporter of the Palmerston Ministry. 
 
 A man from Carrigaline, county Cork, who drew 
 £700 from the bank during the recent money panic, 
 became so alarmed lest bis house should be attacked 
 that he got out cf his mind, and had to be lodged in a 
 private lunatic asylum in Cork. 
 
 The remains of the Duke of Devonshire will be in- 
 terred on Tuesday, the 26th, and the Lord Lieutenant's 
 levee at the Castle (which had been announced for that 
 day) is postponed to Wednesday, the 27th, and the 
 drawingroom to Thursday. 
 
 The judicial appointments have been definitively 
 made as follows : — Mr. Sergeant O'Brien, fourth Judge 
 of the Queen's Bench ; Mr. Christian (Solicitor-Gen- 
 eral,) fourth Judge of Common Pleas; Mr. Hughes, 
 Q. C, the new Solicitor-General; Mr. Pitzgibbon, Q. 
 C . the new Sergeant-at-Law. 
 
 A letter signed ' Captain Starlight,' has been receiv- 
 ed through the post-oflice by Mr. Dunne, of Castle- 
 fieming. Queen's County. It tlireatens him with a 
 hostile visit if he should dare disturb a refractory ten- 
 ant, named Michael Quigly, from the lands of Bally- 
 cleary, near Mountrath. 
 
 A few nights ago five hogget sheep, the property of 
 Richard Martin, sen., of Malla, in the parish of Abbey- 
 gorraican, barony of Longford, were maUeiously killed 
 on the above lands, their throats being cut across, and 
 their bodies ripped up. The carcasses were left on the 
 land. 
 
 There was exhibited last week in the Cattle market, 
 Belfast, a splendid codfish, which reached the enor- 
 mous weight of 41 1-2 pounds. This piscatory mon- 
 ster — the largest seen in Belfast for more than twenty 
 years — was caught within 50 yards of Carrickfergus 
 quay, with a small strand line. 
 
 The unemployed of Belfast have held a meeting ' to 
 consider the best means of procuring work for those 
 who do not wish to accept the present unsatisfactory 
 mode of relief The placards convening the assembly 
 were headed ' Work, not bread.' Although a disturb- 
 ance was apprehended, none really occurred. 
 
 The contest for Limerick will, it is said, be a close 
 one. Both candidates, (Mr. John Ball and Major 
 Gavin) are Liberals, and both Roman Catholics. — 
 There is a split among the priests, but the bishop and 
 the majority are believed to be favorable to Mr. Ball, 
 and thus far that gentleman is regarded as being toler- 
 ably safe tor the seat. 
 
 The promotion of Mr. Sergeant O'Brien to the Irish 
 bench will render vacant one of the seats for the city 
 of Limerick. Major Gavin, a gentleman of consider- 
 able local influence, and Mr. John Ball, formerly 
 member for Carlow, arc the candidates, both on the 
 liberal interest. Major Gavin will, in all probability, 
 be the successful candidate. 
 
 A Bridal Bhigade. — On the arrival of the Prin- 
 cess of England at lierlin, she was escorted by a bri- 
 dal brigade of two hundred young ladies in white mus- 
 lin, pifty thousand pretty girls volunteered for the ser- 
 vice, but the number was limited. 
 
 Slow. — A quaint oM gentleman, of an active, stir- 
 ring disposition, had a man at work in his garden who 
 was quite the reverse. 
 
 'Jones,' said he, ' did you ever see a snail ?' 
 
 ' Certainly,' said Jones. 
 
 ' Then,' said the old boy, 'you must have met him, 
 for you never could overtake him.' * 
 
28 
 
 IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 HEWS FROM HOME. 
 
 ITT-On TliursUny wi'ck wo Imil tlie |ilca.suro of wltiii'Sfilng 
 tlio lauiicliuraii iruu |>uiUlluii|uuiui.'r, n'liicli is imiiicd lliu 
 UliNwy. She U iiiti'iuU'il to Illy on tliis river, In conjunc- 
 tiuu Willi tlif .Sliitnirock and the Uuncanuou. .Sliu was 
 liullt at thu Ai'iiiune Jrun ^Vorlis, uuUcr the iiu|ieriuti'ii- 
 lU-ncf olMr. lloruo, and Iier boileni and inglnis will be 
 conKlruolt'd liirx'. in liict everything belunging to ber, ex- 
 cept the iron platey. will be Wnterlonl inanul'aoture. Ac- 
 tiie preiuiralions arc being made nt the uorkti lor laying 
 down another large steuuier, — M'uttr/arJ Mait. 
 
 Cr7~The Demi Journal save:— A corres]>ondent informs us 
 thni some agents of my Lonl I.letrini have been scekiuii for 
 signalureH to a pninr warning the |x'0|ile against attending 
 the Milfonl deulon^tnltiou. The landlords of Uonegul nniy 
 well feci jiroud of the eunilitiou to which they have reduced 
 tliU hitherto jKraceablc country, whi'u they reflect upon the 
 fact, that on Friday hint, my l.oni Lietrim thought it ne- 
 cessary to enter the town of Jlillord with three double- 
 barrelled guns in his carriage, aud two anued outriders fol- 
 lowing biw! 
 
 C^ It has been n subject of pretty general surprise nnd 
 considerable wonder that, up to the present, the season has 
 continued so nimsually mild and agreeable. Bird's nests' 
 with eggs — Hrtx, showing an early growth of thirty inches 
 — and trrcs biflecking their bmnches with bud nnd blossom 
 — are but a few of the ratlrer unseasonable fix?nks which 
 mother nature has been delighting us with, at a time when 
 our father, in the ' good old times,' were shivering under 
 the invisible iceslmtls of the ]>iercing A-ost king. At the 
 houtic of Mr. Patrick Devlin, who residesabout a mile from 
 Ucrry, there it a stalk of oats in ^ Aill ear; ' a fact which 
 could never have occurred had there been any frost, or se- 
 verity in the weather during tlie season. !<everal stalks 
 appeared about to shoot, and othei"s had attained consider- 
 able growth ;wlule, in the same iield, we have witnessed po- 
 tato tops six inches high. This second growth is surely 
 very remarkable in the middle of January. 
 
 Kepreskntatios ofLi.merick.— The Munslrr .Vfwssaye: 
 — * Ttie contest, the canvass, advances with great vigor in 
 Limerick and the Liberties. In the latter, in I'alrick's Well, 
 Castle Cornell, &c., the agents of the candidntes attended 
 on Sunday last, aud addressed the people with great force 
 and eloquence. The election of either candidate will not 
 fail, if vigor and iulluence command success. Never was 
 principals better served, nor agents more zealous. The 
 most extraordinary rumors are afloat on all sides. The 
 gentle 6e.x are said to afford their fair advocacy, and to pre- 
 ler their retjuests, in person, in behalf of one candidate — 
 and the powcs of landlords is prejiumed to be active in the 
 array of forces.' 
 
 Migor Gavin and Mr. Ball have published their address- 
 es. The former gentleman says; 'My political principles 
 are before you. The sudden fall in the price of produce at 
 the very moment that a tendency to raise the rents began to 
 show it..<elf, demonstrates more than ever the urgency of 
 some legal enaclwent, to fix on an equitable basis the rela- 
 tions of landlord and tenant. I therefore will advocate 
 euch a measure. A'ote by ballot I consider equally desira- 
 ble. Without it any extension of the franchise would only 
 aggravate existing evils. It is needless to add that any at- 
 tempt to infringe the religious rights of the people will re- 
 ceive my most determined opposition. Full political equal- 
 ity for all creeds is the obvious right of all.' 
 
 Mr. Hall says:—' 1 do not ask you to judge my political 
 principles by professions. I aj)|)eal to my past career in 
 public life as affording the best guarantee for my future con- 
 duct. The simple nile which I have ever sought to enforce 
 is that of extending equal justice to every class and every 
 creed of my country-men. In and out of parliament I have 
 long contended for such changes in the law of landlord and 
 tenant as should secure to the tenant his just right to com- 
 j>ensation for his own improvements. I wish to extend to 
 the humblest voter the same security for the free exercise of 
 his franchise that I claim for himself I have, therefore, 
 both in and out of office, supported the ballot, and I shall 
 continue to do go. I am accustomed to pay resjicct to the 
 feelings of those who differ from me in religion, and I have 
 not allowed tho-e dilTerences to influence my conduct to- 
 wards them in secular matters. 1 demand for myself and 
 my fellow Catholics the same respect and the same light 
 to civil »|uality. I have, therefore, been amongst the fore- 
 most to resist the attempts of those who have sought to in- 
 eultthe religion ofthe majority of the Irish |>eopIe. It is 
 needless to aseatc you that I shall continue to do the same 
 for the Aiture.' 
 
 Death op Joira Rowas, Esq.— Wc regret to announce 
 the death, on Tuesday night, at 11 o'clock, at his residenc< 
 liork-strect, Belfast, in his Tlst year, of John liowun, E.-q 
 ofthe large, respectable, and extensive firm ofJohn Uowar 
 &sons, cotton spinners, founders, and engineers. Mr.ItoW' 
 nn, like George Stephenson and others eminent men of thai 
 
 stamp, was the architect of his own fortune. He was a na- 
 tive of Dough, aud born in 1787. From an early age he cx- 
 hibite<l gi-eut powers of intellect, anil a decided turn for me- 
 chanical pursuits. He uiis thu lirst iu Ireland to introduce 
 in his business screw-cutting by iiiuchinery, for paiier-niuk- 
 Ing purposes. This was in Itfii. In two years alUr— inlK24 
 —he brought into application at liiseslablishnienl iil Dough 
 a fun-blast, being the earliest experiment of the kind on 
 record in this country. Mr. Itowaii was the lirst to make 
 that discovery on an extensive scale. And it is within tlie 
 remembninceof every one now living in Uellast whose rec- 
 colleetiongoes buck lo a period not more than twenty years 
 past, that Mr.Uowan made strenuous endeavors to construct 
 a machine for the purpose of locomotion by steam on ord- 
 inary roads; and he was so flir Buccessf^ill in his effort to 
 produce an engine of this description that it was worked 
 through several of the streets of Belliist. Uis entire life was 
 one series on endeavors to advance science. 
 
 Excitement in Doneoal. A lamentable state of affairs 
 has arisen in Donegal. There have been differences between 
 the Earl of Lietrim and his tenantry, undsome ofthe latter 
 arc to be removed from their holdings. We learn from our 
 correspondent that a public meeting is to be held in Milford 
 on Thursday * to express sympathy with the tenants of Mil- 
 ford, Gweedore, Cloughaneelu, nnd the surrounding coun- 
 try,' and that ^ a i>etition, praying for a parliamentary in- 
 quiry into the state of 3Iilford, Fannet, Uosguill, and 
 Gweedore, will be laid before the meeting. Our corres- 
 pondent adds: — ' At this meeting some efforts will be made 
 to obtain legal protection for the rights and jiroperty ofthe 
 tenantry. Lord Lietrim has arrived at Milford with four 
 servants or bailifl's, armed at all points. Thetcnantrj' eject- 
 ed at the last 3Iilford sessions are to bo dispossessed. Bod- 
 ies of police are moving about iu all directions; and alto- 
 gether the aspect of society is entirely changed. Those ex- 
 cellent landlords, Sir James Stuart, Bart, the Marquis of 
 Abercorn, the Jlarquis of Conynghum, and several others, 
 are exceedingly annoyed at the causes of this excitement, so 
 unusual in Donegal.' — Evening Post. 
 
 D:?" E. II. M'Evoy, M.P., forMeatli, wlio had been, 
 togellicr with a lurge party, enjoying the hospitalities 
 of G. II. Moore, Esq., at the Moorcliall, during the 
 past week, met with rather a serious accident whilst 
 out shooting on Tluirsdiiy week. It appears that in 
 the discharge of the fowling piece of one ofthe party, 
 some stray grains liit Mr. M'Evoy, and one grain was 
 lodged in the eye, but fortnnately it only grazed ilie 
 eye-hall, so that, together with the promjit arid sliilful 
 treatment of Ur. Turner, leave good grounds for hope 
 that the sight will be preserved. Some others of the 
 party narrowly escaped. — Tuam Herald. 
 
 [J^~ Roger I'arke, Esq., of Dunally, has been ap- 
 pointed high sherift' for the county of Sligo for the pres- 
 ent year. 
 
 [C?" The Postmaster-General has, out of many can- 
 didates, appointed Mr. John Harkin, postmaster of 
 Omagli, son ofthe late Mr. John Ilarkin, of Omagh, 
 who was for more than forty years a respected' inhabi- 
 tant of that town. 
 
 tC^ Mr. John Kobert Sanders, son of John Sand- 
 ers, late of Charleville, in the counly of fork, Esq., 
 deceased, having taken the nsual oath, was yesterday 
 admitted a solicitor of her Majesty's High Court of 
 Chancery in Ireland. 
 
 UP" An .tddrcss and presentation of gold chalice, 
 and cloth of gold vestments hits been presented to the 
 Rev. John White, C.C., Ardcarna, from the parisliion- 
 ers of Longhlin and his friends iu the immediate neigh- 
 borhood. 
 
 Uankrupt. — Richard JIatthew Peare, of No. 20 
 and 21, College-green, in the ciiy of Dublin, general 
 merchant and commission agent, to surrender on Fri- 
 day, the 29th day of .lanuary inst. and on Tuesday, 
 the IGth day of Feb. next. 
 
 DiiATn OF Thomas JoxE8, Esq. — It is our painful 
 duty to announce the death of Thomas Jones, Esq., of 
 Castletown. — The demise of this esteemed gentleman 
 is deeply regretted by his numtrous tenantry, to whom 
 be was a kind and indulgent landlord, a benefactor, 
 and a friend. Mr. .Tones practised for many years ns 
 a solicitor, and, liy his ability and great application to 
 business, was enabled to realise an independent fortune, 
 which he invested in landed ))roperly, principally in 
 this counly. 
 
 As a grand juror, chairman of Diomorc West Un- 
 
 ion, and a Magistrate, Mr. Jones was highly rcspi < i, ,i 
 In those several capacities he invariably acted wi:i: ;Ih 
 highest integrity, and evinced an curliest desire tu ad- 
 vance the interests of the public. lie is succeeded, in 
 his CKtatcs by his eldest son, Cnpt. J. Jones. — Sligo 
 Chronicle. 
 
 ItKfllONATlON op JOHEfll GllEENK, I'jiq.— It is wllll de 
 
 regret, in which the public will largely participate, we ha 
 learned that this highly esteemed iniigistratc has been f( 
 eed by jirolonged illness to resign. — KUkmni/ Journat. 
 
 Cni.ME IN Wateukord County.— ft shows the state of 
 crime in this county when there arc at present in the coun- 
 ty jail, between those undergoing sentence and those await- 
 ing trial, only 4G male prisoners aud 6 females in its pre- 
 cincts. In 1850 there were nearly 600 prisoners In the coun- 
 ty jail atone time — so that the number of our^iminals i> 
 now only one tenth of what it was in 1H50. 
 
 Death of Joseph Lynch, lisQ. — We sincerely rcgrclj 
 to observe, by our obituary notices, the death of Jiisepll' 
 Lynch, Es^]., a magistrate and resident landlord, which tooled 
 jiliice on Saturday lust, ut his residence, Hoebuck, county 
 of Cavan, after a protracted illness. Mr. Lynch was a 
 gentleman of the kindest heart and mo.st benevolent dispo 
 sition. lie was a iiraetical patriot, adlieriug with fidelity, 
 to sound and lioiiest Irish iiriuciples. — Dublin Post. 
 
 Bankrupts— Joseph Sherland, of Westmoreland-street,! 
 Dublin, boot and shoe-maker, to surrender on Monday, tliQ^ 
 15lh of January inst., and on Friday, the 12th of February 
 next. 3Iichael Holster, of rarsonstown, King's County,, 
 shopkeeper, to surrender on ilonday, the 25tli day of Jan- 
 uary, and on Tuesday, the Kith day of February next. — ' 
 Colon Hunter, of Buruside, county of Antrim, bleacher, ■ 
 to surrender on Tuesday, the 2f)tli day of January inst. aud > 
 on Tuesday, 0th day of Feb. next. 
 
 Sales of IjAKI) under the En'cusibered Estates ■ 
 Court in Derry-.— Tlic sale of the follovtiug properties, ; 
 which took place at Walter's Mart, in Derry, on the2d inst, 
 has been confirmed by the court: — 
 
 In the matter of Mcl'hersou, assignee of Calhoun, own- 
 er; A. Lindsey, petitioner. Lotl. Lauds at Carraghslane, 
 barony of Uaplioe, 27 acres, 1 rood, 23 jierclies, statute inea- _ 
 sure— head rent, £1 19s; a fee-farm grant Sold for XfiOO, I 
 to A. Clarke, Esq. Lot 2. Carricknaslatc, 15 acres, 2rods, I 
 18 per.— head rent, iS ITs Id ; sold for .£836 to the same pur- • 
 chaser. Lot 3. Tenements in Lifford, and two fields in the 
 Commons, 7acres, Srods, lojier- head rent, 5s; sold forX315 
 to 3Ir. Hugh AXcMeuiiamin, Lifford. 
 
 Mildness of the Weather.— We have at present at 
 our office for inspection, an ear of corn, fully shot out, and 
 grown in a field of Mr. ratriek Devlin's, near this city. — 
 Such a remarkable winter production we have never before 
 had to record. In many fields intended for grass this sum- 
 mer, nnd where oats had been grown last year, from the 
 fallen seed there is now a luxuriant crop, and should it not 
 be cut off by frost, of which Ihere is at present litlle pros- 
 pect, a very early harvest may be anticipated.— iJfrry iS'fon- 
 itard. 
 
 The Kennanght Farming Society held its annual plough- 
 ing match on Thursday last, in a field belonging to John 
 Hemphill, Esq., Wheatfield Myroe. The " McCunn I'late" 
 was to be competed for. This plate, comprising two tea ser- 
 vices, was lately presented by Colonel McCunn, of Kew 
 Vork, for competition by the farmers of Myroe, his native 
 place. The value of these prixcs is about £&i. At five iu 
 the evening a large dinner parly assembled in Mercer's ho- 
 tel, at Newtownlimavady. The chair was occujiied by Mar- 
 cus Gogc, Esq., tStrieve, and the vice-chair by George Ca- 
 tlier, E«(i. Jlr. Cheery aud 3Ir. Church are thus the win- 
 ners of Colonel SreCnnn's first and second prizes, which 
 it ajipears, must be gained two years successively before be- 
 fore becoming the iiermanent property of the winner. 
 
 WouKiNo of the Cni.'iiE and Outrage Act in 
 Belfast. — A rather amusing incident, iu connection with 
 the crime and outrage act iu this neighborhood, occurred 
 in the I'olice Court on Wednesday, when a man named K. 
 Cuiininghnni, of Whilehouse, was charged by Acting- 
 Constable Burke with having been found cam-ing a large 
 gun, of the description generally termed a "punt gun," 
 on the shore near Ballymacarrct, and also with having a 
 (luaiitity of jiowder in his possession. The prisoner stated 
 that he had been out on the lough shooting water-fowl — a 
 line of life which he leads, and by which be makes a liveli- 
 hood. The day had been rough, and he was driven to the 
 Ballymacarrett shore, where he was was met by Con- 
 stable Burke, Some of the local police stated that they 
 knew the prisoner, and that he lived by shooting waterfowl 
 and disposing of flicni. 3Ir. Tracy, who presided on the 
 occasion, said it appeared the poor man was driven in by 
 stress of weather, and it would be ver>- hard to enforce 
 the act in such a case; therefore, he would dismiss the 
 charge. The gun, the jiroduclion of which coused much 
 amusement in court, it being about ten feet long, with an 
 old flint lock, was then given up to Cunningham, who left 
 the court with it on his shoulder. — Banner of Uhler. 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 29 
 
 COKRESPONDENCE. 
 HON. CALEB' CUSUING'S LECTURK. 
 
 Etiilor of the Irish Miscdtany :— 
 
 As a listener to the Icctiiro of Mr. Gushing, dolivcr- 
 ircd before ihe ' Youn^ Cntliolic Frioml's Sooioty,' I 
 ,vas much delighted, its who is not, on hearing tlio elo- 
 ]Hcnt orator on any tliemc. What ihe lovers of .4n- 
 //o Saxonism will say, wo much wonder ; for ho proved 
 :o a demonstration that the concjuerors of the Anglo's 
 \ndtlie Saxon's by ^yilliam of Normandy, wore Celts 
 jom New Britain, in France, as were the conquerors 
 jvery where in Europe. The superiority of the Celtic 
 race was never better proved, nor more truthfully 
 :!nunciatcd. The description of Europe when a pri- 
 meval forest, overgrown with the oak aud the elm ; 
 when the elephant, the mastodon, and the reindeer 
 were the undisputed owners of the soil. 
 
 Then Asia had her populated nations, her disputes, 
 and her wars ; then came emigrants westward ; they 
 were the enterprising, the brave of the east who turned 
 to seek, and found new liomes — they were Celts, and 
 each successive exodus was, as it were, wave after 
 wave of the ocean, forcing the first and more enter- 
 prising towards the west, or the setting sun ; till now 
 a last stand is made in Ireland — driven as it were, at 
 hay on the verge of the Atlantic, they make the most 
 desperate of all, an eight hundred years struggle : love 
 of home, and love of liberty, are there seen at Limerii k, 
 as never seen before. Here the lecturer described Ire- 
 land, exhausted from the sanguinary wars with Crom- 
 well, (that man of destiny.) Harris and Ireton, again 
 she is called to fight England with all its chivalry — to 
 fight against William's sldll and bravery. Ireland 
 struggling in the cause of an embccile, a runaway 
 king, unworthy such fideliiy. Ireland, with new levies 
 — waiting promised aid from F]-anee, with still the 
 greatest drawback, the wrong general (a Frenchman,) 
 in command. " It was the most solemn, sublime, sor- 
 rowful, and grand spectacle the world ever saw — the 
 dav those brave men marched out of Limerick, and em- 
 barked on board those transports which was to convey 
 them to a foreign country, leaving fathers, mothers, 
 and friends — wives and children, and the home of their 
 hearts, because they could be no longer of service to 
 liberty — to freedom there ; they had done all for Ire- 
 land, for Religion, that could be done, and while they 
 abandoned it in honor, yet it was in despair. Ancient 
 or modem history no where has a paralell.' It was 
 while surrendering his sword, said the lecturer, that 
 Sarsfield made use of those memorable words — ' change 
 kiugs and we will fight you over again.' I think this 
 a mistake, it must be during the negoeiations— for I 
 find on reference to Article twenty-fifth ,they marched 
 out — 'with arms, baggage, drums beating, matches 
 lighted at both ends, bullet in mouth, colors flying, 
 si.v brass guns as the besieged w ill choose, two mortar 
 pieces, and half the ammunition that is now in tlie 
 magazines of the said place.' The word besieged, nor 
 the conditions does not seem to imply a surrender, 
 nothing more than a eapitidation, while the base vio- 
 lation of the treaty, evidently proves the necessity to 
 which Englaiul was driven, and the material they had 
 to contend with, every inducement being offered to 
 them to remain and serve W'lliam of Orange, in vain. 
 The glory of that brigade which those men Ibunded in 
 France, and the 400,000 which followed them, whose 
 brilliant exjiloits for one hundred years dazzled Europe, 
 was but slijilitly alluded to ; and there was little or 
 nothing said of Irishmen in America. Tlic names 
 of Higgins, Percival Sniyih, Jeft'erson Davis, and our 
 own Shields, were the only ones alluded to. We ac- 
 knowledge that the Irish generals and staff of Simon 
 Bolivar, in the South American revolutions alone 
 would fill a volume. Dcveraux, McKenna, O'Lcary, 
 O'Carrol, O'Connor, O'Hcilly, and the O'Biien's, 
 Ferguson, Esmond, and the father and son, Don Am 
 brosia, and Don Bernardo 0'IIi{;gins, are evidences of 
 Iri^h chivalry in the south, while we think the lecturer 
 who paid so much attention to Europe, did well not to 
 enter the field of the services of Irishmen in the United 
 Suites. 
 
 The lecturer's theory, that ' It is destiny,' and Ire- 
 land is only struggling ' against destiny,' is believed 
 in by many, but it is decidedly an English view of the 
 case. ' Ireland is no longer heard of as a nation, yet 
 rules — hers the intellect that even now can rule Eng- 
 land, and to rule England for Ireland's good, should 
 bo the object of her superior minds. 
 
 ' America must he peopled by the same destiny, and 
 Ireland is the place from whence it must come — there 
 are free nations yet to be bailt up here. Our vast 
 plains and prairies invite the Celt to found now homes 
 in this free land — to fall in with destiny is or shonld be 
 her policy.' 
 
 We reply that England has ever denied Ireland 
 equality, or Ireland would long since have cast her 
 destiny with England — such an union Ireland would 
 accept — hut England's union is the tyrant over the 
 slave ; the wolf with the lamb ; as the penal laws, the 
 commercial restrictions, the disarming acts, the re- 
 ligous inequalities positively prove of necessity, every 
 df gredation must be heaped upon Ireland, who, if on 
 an equal footing, would soon eclipse the English. — 
 Irish mind has to become English mind, even anti- 
 Irish, ere it is taken into England's service, as Thom- 
 as Moore knew, and positively wrote — 
 ' Unprisetl are her sous till they learn to betray. 
 Undistinguished they live if they shame not their sires', 
 Aud the lamp that woald light them to dignity's way, 
 Must be caught from the pile where their coutry expires.' 
 Add to this, the Irish Celt is met on his arrival here, 
 by British prejudice which precedes him, and that lib- 
 erty ho loves, and fights for everywhere, is even here, 
 where his countrymen took such a noble share in its 
 struggles — denied him, we need not go to the know 
 nolhingism of time past. The learned lecturer has 
 ably fought against that prejudice in the legislature of 
 Massachusetts, within a few days, and all honor we 
 accord him, although futile his efforts. Give the Celt 
 Liberty — Equality — Freedom of conscience, and then 
 yoil may possibly bring !'■ e fight to a close — never oth- 
 erwise. Liberty, Chivalry, Honor, Conscience, are 
 his ; they alone are the standard of his idea of man- 
 hood. FAUDEEN. 
 
 Extracts from Giles's Lectures aud Essays. 
 CUREAN. 
 Among the mighty spirits which have been lights to Ire- 
 land, I will mention one who, in this sad period, was pre- 
 eminent. I allude to Curran, the glory of the Irish bar. — 
 jMost exalted in his oratory, and most generous in his use 
 of it, he was ever what the true man would wish to be — it 
 his power enabled him, the defender of liberty, the cham- 
 pion of the wronged. With a moral intellect of the widest 
 grasp, he had au imagination, of subtle delicacy and of gor- 
 geous wealth; and this intellect, impulsive with a superhu- 
 man fervor, and this imagination, lyrical as the very soul 
 of poetry, became, in their union, au enthusiasm that dared 
 the loftiest heiglits and gained them. But though soaring, 
 it was not solitary. If it mounted upwards to the skies, it 
 was borne thither on the aspirations of all generous inter- 
 ests. It carried others to its own proud climbings; and 
 they, for the moment, transpoiicd from the lower earth 
 burned with its electric tire, aud became godlike in its com- 
 municated lustre, liow vai'ious is the eloquence in which 
 that opulent spirit found expression. It is wit, ready and 
 e.xhanstless; piercing as the pointed steel, or lambent as a 
 ray of light; now playful as a gleeful child, and then mis- 
 chievous as a merry fiend. It is humor, in all queer analo- 
 gies, in all shades of oddity, in all lights and Imcs of fan- 
 tasy. It is sarcasm, which lashes its victim to detpair. It 
 is pathos, which wrings the lieart ; which touches it in ev- 
 ery nerve, where agony is borne; wliich searches it in every 
 fold where the smallest drop of grief can lie concealed. It 
 is denunciation. And, here heisgrcalcst of all. ilowdocs 
 he exhibit the wrong-doer! How docs he show the trans- 
 gressor his ways! llow does he display tlie tortures of an 
 accusing conscience, the sickness ol' a guilty soul, the apathy 
 of habit, the damnation of remorse! 
 
 And no matter who the wrong-doer is, let him trem- 
 ble, if Curran is to paint his deeds. Proud he may 
 bo ill titles, boundless in wcahh, hardened in the bronze 
 offa.shion; if he is human, the orator's words shall 
 transfi.xhim; whcievcr feeling has a sense, a barb 
 shall rankle ; and for the time, at lea.st, he shall stand 
 before the world, naked, bleeding, shivering, and de- 
 spised ; to his species a thing of scorn, and to himself 
 a thing of shame. Ollice shall no more protect him 
 
 than rank. Is he a judge, who sullies the purity of the 
 bench with the malice of a partisan 'i His ermine shall 
 not guard hitn from the advocate's indignation ; and 
 the tribunal which he disgraces, shall in its very lofti- 
 ness, but make his ignominy the more conspicuous. — 
 Neither shall a villain find a Bhield in the baseness of 
 his work or the obscurity of his condition. Is he a spy, 
 whom government pays for perjury, the hireling vio- 
 lator of human faith and human nature— a wretch that 
 panders for the gallows, and steeps his feet in widows' 
 and orphans' tears ? Cased and coated as his heart 
 may ho in adamant, callous as may be his brutish face, 
 siolid as may be his demon-soul, Curran could cleave 
 the armor of his wickedness, and shake his miscreant 
 spirit with fear, when it had lost even the memory of a 
 virtue 
 
 It, is not, however, the power of Curran's eloquence, 
 but the purpose of it, wliich has relation to this lecture. 
 It was for the weak against the strong. Curran lived 
 in times which tried men's souls, and many souls there 
 were, winch did not stand the trial. Some, with cow- 
 ard fear, sank before the storm of power ; and others, 
 with selfish pliancy, dissolved in the sunshine of pat- 
 ronage. But Curran was bravo as he was incorrupti- 
 ble. In 1798, he labored with a martyr's patience, and 
 with a hero's courage. He pleaded under the shadow 
 of the scaffold. He defended one client over the dead 
 body of another ; and while the victim is expiring on 
 the gallows, for whom yesterday he struggled, with no 
 hope to cheer his labor, he struggles as manfully to- 
 day for one who will be the victim of to-morrow. He 
 was upright, when honor was rebellion ; he was true, 
 when integrity was treason ; he stood by the accused 
 and the doomed, when to pity was to participate ; and 
 be was loyal to liberty, when even to name her, was 
 almost to die. 
 
 The year 1829 saw the Catholic emancipated, and 
 DOW he stands with other British subjects, in equtlity of 
 privilege and equality of grievance. The later history 
 of Ireland has had three grand epochs, and in each has 
 had a man fashioned for the time. In 1781, the Par- 
 liament of Ireland contended for independence ; then 
 there arose the majestic spirit of immortal Grattan ; all 
 tliat was claimed, ho asserted, and allthat he asserted, 
 he achieved. In 1798, the liberty of the citizens was 
 set at nought ; the impetuous voice of Curran arose 
 above the storm, and if it was not able to quell injus- 
 tice, it bore witness to the right. 
 
 Necessity of a Thorough Editcatiox.— Good Educa- 
 tion being a preparation for social life, necessarily embrac- 
 es the whole man — body, head and heart — for in social life 
 the whole man is necessarily called into exertion in one way 
 or another almost every hour. But this is not suffieieiit. 
 There must be no preponderance, as well as no exclusion; 
 a limited or biassed education produces monsters. Some 
 are satisfied with the cultivation of a single fncultj-, some 
 with the partial cultivation of each. A child is trained up 
 to working; he is hammered into a hardy laborer— a stout 
 material for the physical bone and muscle of the state. 
 This is good so far as it goes; but it is bad, because it goes 
 no farther. He is not taught reading; he is not taught re- 
 ligion; above all, he is not taught thinking. He never 
 looks into his other self; he .soon forgets its existence; the 
 man becomes all bndv : lii- iiilcllrctiinl nnd moral being 
 lies fallow. Th.'^K.Klh ..| -nrli :, • ^i,-m will 1m- :i .^tardv 
 
 race of nmcliinc— ikh .-i ■ an. I ii.is hiil not men: .-o 
 
 much bnilr l,li', firal cTri-v M> in:_in- [...im-Iv ll,r,.l.gll >oei- 
 ctv 111 llic i!i-.^ ir i: i'l ili.i.riii.iii' im ilnal niiluii-s lowhoni 
 their .■m,m;, '-tr,! n,- |.,v, ■,!,■, 
 
 nlli< 
 
 tin 
 
 ,.i,or iIm' hiiililiiii.' is niJM'd. like 
 hv. imt the Mini' >inuiMiijiirious 
 ill irp, in nil il-- llt.nr.~aii(l.< lornis, 
 
 Mli..al «a,-li' i.f lii> M'tilhliil viL'"r. The body bows 
 iv.i liMMnllilli.bunlcii ..lllif mind: it wears grndufllly 
 
 i.fpi 
 
 h.- laid iMil.il l.v bit. We 
 „nd|.rai'liMd ii,l,. bcallli. 
 
 lends i.f 
 .i.,hitl..llH,iulll. Ilc.-illli 
 h. hill iirnaiiiiiig: it i^ to 
 l„. ,„n./, linillhv— talured 
 !n!illliiii lavuuf ofIlJeiu- 
 d \ on provide instrument.*, 
 it is Inn' lor iniiid. hilt iii-iniiii'-iiis wliicli, when wanted, 
 eaniiiil in' umiI. liililNc-iiiiil and mural education may 
 riiiik Iii'fiirc iiln -ieal. hilt tlii-v ;im' nut niore essential; the 
 iihv-ie-il |..iw.r- me tlie heiier^ ..I w.i.nl ami the drnwersof 
 w iter Hii- llli' M'iritinil- 'lln' I'Hm' nf the Column is in the 
 .■iiVlli; bill, "illnnit it, iieillier e.mlil Ihe shaft standfirm 
 above it, nor the caiiilal at tend to the sky. 
 
30 
 
 IRISH mSCELLANY. 
 
 COBBBSPONDBNCB. 
 IIIK WOMAN IIIOAMTST. 
 
 Hi..i. ..... ..LLKITIUNS IIF A SULUIKU. DY T. 0"S. 
 
 EJilora/lltf Iriak Miir'lliiny :— 
 
 One of the lliifat wDiiiou ill appcnrancc, of tlio most In- 
 dnntriouiiliitbili', Irn'proncliable coiidiiot ami oliuruoter, 1 
 everkiirw In lla- army, wan Mm. Wooilliouiw. H«rliu»bainl 
 \\M a musieuiii, aiul constantly fniiiloycil in tlif tailor's 
 iiUop— linJ llio rvsiifCt of i-vi-ry ouo in \\w cun>»— was oalleil 
 a Rmul iluty soldliT (but iidni; aii army pliniso,) was now 
 putting in, tilt- luttiT years of his «'rvice in an easy ami 
 n'MH-ctable manner. Tlie only milllury duties reiinlrcd of 
 him boiuK In cniini«liou with the baud. Besides his sol- 
 dier's pay, ho was in n'cei|)t ol oilier monies; reinuiicratious 
 fh>iii the band fund, and regular wuKes from the tailor's 
 Bliop,addto wbieb, liis wife was ever carniiiK, having re- 
 markable Rood hands, ami being an economist, cuabled 
 them to save money and live in appearance above the sol- 
 dier's usual spherv. 
 
 Mm. Woodliouse was in the habit of going to Coventry, 
 each year to see her niatives, stopping about two months. 
 This habit had continuetl long— «very thing moving as hap- 
 py as a marriage Ih'II— her husband corre.-iponding and re- 
 ceiving letters constaiilly during her absence. Thus coii- 
 tiuued time unalloyed, at least the surface was without ai> 
 parent ripple, nothing to disturb the peacelXil voyage of 
 life, but under what smooth surfaces run strange and ad- 
 verse currents at least in this case, the old adage of ' smooth 
 waters run deep.' was singularly veriHcd. 
 
 Tlie n-giment lay in Newbridge, Ireland. The ma.ster tail- 
 or had occasion to visit Dublin on business, and while 
 tlieiv called to sec old IVicnds at I'ortobello barracks.— 
 While there, he tliougbt he recognized Mrs. Woodlioiisc 
 whom lie suspected was in Coventry, Euglanil, lie made 
 eure of the fact, and gleaned the following information; 
 that she was the wife of one of the First Royal dragoons, 
 then lying in that barracks, that her husband was a (iiic 
 fellow, but one of the wildest in the regiment, that she usu- 
 ally came and stopi>ed with him two months in the year.— 
 Further information established beyond a doubt all that 
 the mind in its wide stretched capacity, could conceive with- 
 in tlie range of possibility, this was none other than tlic la- 
 dy whose husband worked for him only twenty-three miles 
 away, and now under the impression his wife was in Cov- 
 entry— yet here she was living, and carrying on such a game 
 for years . deceiving in the most systematic manner two 
 men, and that in the army. 
 
 The master tailor imraeiliately returned to Newbridge, 
 saw Woodhouse who could as soon believe the greatest im- 
 possibility. Both returned to Dublin, sent for the husband 
 in the first royals, heard the story of his marriage,- that 
 Ills wife remained a few months each year with him, but 
 usually with lier friends. The two men now agreed to send 
 for the woman, who iu due time came, encountered both 
 husbands, bung her head abashed, but bad nothing to say. 
 The two men agreed to send lier home instead of prosecut- 
 ing her, which they did, allowing she wa.s the most system- 
 atical bigamist they had ever heard of. Dut those two men 
 looked uiwn this matter in the most opposite light— the 
 husband of the Brst royals made quite a laugh of the mat- 
 ter, for to him it was a liappv ridilance of bad trumpery— 
 in Ihct, he callcil it the best performance he ever met with 
 in his life— while my friend the hussar, took it quite al 
 heart, became quite diyected, and unhappy, soon applied for 
 his discharge, and went, whither we know not. 
 
 This woman must have had an accomplice in Coventry, 
 as we thought, who aided her in the deception, as her let- 
 ters bore the post mark of Coventry jiost oflice. llcr con- 
 duct was the last to create suspicion, being the mo.«t moral, 
 and exemplary, save the circumslauce of the plurality of 
 husbands, none thought evil of her. Some four years after- 
 wanls. we inarched to Canterbury. 
 
 We had not lieen long in the city when one of our women 
 received a note ixH|uestiiig lier to call and see an old frieiKl, 
 (naming the street and liouse). Judge the woman's sur- 
 vhen in the comfortable matron of a beautinil house. 
 
 prise. 
 
 Jako said, " belter have the rogue you know, than the roguo 
 you don't know." This was the last of our celebrity that I 
 have heanl of, but it would not astonish me if in some of 
 the shipments from Kngland lor the ".Salt Luke .Saints" 
 our heroiuu should be an advonlurer, as 1 knew her relig- 
 ious proclivities were towards patriarchs and polygamy. 
 
 TEni-:SA ESMONDE. 
 
 Once again, in a week or so, our talented fair young 
 couiitrywoniau gives one of her delightful evenings with 
 the poets of Ireland and America. Hundreds of sincere 
 admin'rs will surround her, as she utters with clear and 
 musical voice the hopes, the sympathies, the love or ven- 
 geance of these high Musters of the I-yre. The public, in- 
 deed, arc eager for the opportunity of renewing tlieir glow- 
 ing intimacy with the nobler intellects of the old and new 
 
 orlds. After such a rude turmoil as we have had in the 
 political arena of late— after the wild confusion and re- 
 sounding mischiefs that have occurred in the commercial 
 world these last few mouths back— it will be a soothing and 
 
 nobling pleasure to hear of something that is bright and 
 kind, chivalrous and holy. F,s|)eciully bo, when words of 
 
 ell a nature will be enunciated by one whose mind and 
 heart are iu sympathy with them, and who enriched with 
 most of llie cultivated graces of dawning womanhood, is 
 qualified by study and acquisition to give effect to senli- 
 meiits of imperishable worth and beauty.— /(/W. 
 
 ITeapino IIP Wealth. — It is often ludicrous as 
 well as pitiable to witness the miscralilc ends in wliicli 
 the heaping up of wealth not unusually terminates. — 
 A life spent in the dnulgery of the counting-house, 
 warehouse, or factory, is exchanged for tlie dignified 
 ease of a suburban villa; but what a joyless seclusion 
 it mostly proves ! liclirement has been postponed un- 
 til all the faculties of enjoyment have become effete or 
 paralysed. 'Sans eyes, sons teeth, sajis taste, sans 
 everything,' scarcelj' any inlet or pulsation remains 
 for old much less new pleasures and associations. Na- 
 ture is not to be won by such superannuated suitors. 
 She is not intelligible to t'-.cm ; and tlie language of 
 fields and woods, of raurmniingliroolo, mountain tops 
 and tumbling torrents, cannot be understood by men 
 familiar only with the noise or" crowded streets, loaded 
 vans, bustling taverns, and postmen's knocks. The 
 chief provincial towns are environed with luckless 
 pyrites of this descriplion, who dropped from their ac- 
 enstomed sphere, become lumjis and dross in a new 
 element. Happily their race is mostly short ; death 
 kindly comes to terminate their weariness, and, like 
 plants too late transjiUintcd, they perish from the sud- 
 den change in long established habits, air and diet. 
 
 she met the said Mrs. Woodhouse, now Mrs. I.ongstreet, 
 wife of a retired (|Uarter-mnster, who she said she was alVaid 
 she shoald bury. .She aci|uainled her friend that her hus- 
 band in the first royal dragoons was recently dead, but si 
 was sorry poor Woodhouse took it so much at heart— si 
 knew he lived in Somersetshire, and if she ever buried the 
 old quarter-master, the would Und " OU Jake,for ske surely 
 lovfil Aim." 
 
 Some years afterwards, we rfcefved orders to embark at 
 liristol for Ireland. We arrived a day ere the transports 
 were ready. During our slay we were waited on, and wel- 
 comed by our old friend .lake Wooilliouse. a select party of 
 old troop-mates, aud spent a pleasant evening at the house 
 of the hussar ere we embarked. Judge of our surprise, 
 wlieu the honors of the table were liaiidi-omelydonc by our 
 hostess, the late Mrs. Longslreef, whom as expected, she did 
 bury some years before, and was now once again the /or- 
 ing wi/t of Jake, his first and early choice. We joked over 
 circumstances well known to each of us, which none of the 
 parties had any desire to deny. The lady said, " it was all 
 in the array," (a common phrase in the service) while old 
 
 An Old Niswspapeb. — There is nothing more ben- 
 eficial to the reflecting mind than an old newspaper. 
 Though a silent preacher, it is one which conveys a 
 moral more palpable and forcible than the most elabo- 
 rate discourse. As the eye runs down its diminutive 
 and old-fashioned columns, and peruses its quaint ad- 
 vertisements and bygone paragraphs, the qucslion forces 
 itself on the mind — where are now the busy multitudes 
 whose names apjiear on these pages ? — where is the 
 pulling auctioneer, (he pushing tradesman, the bustling 
 merchant, the calculating lawyer, who each occupies a 
 space in this chronicle of departed time? Alas! their 
 names are now only to be read ujion the sculptured 
 marble which covers their ashes I They have passed 
 away like their forefathers, and are no more seen ! — 
 From these considerations the mind naturally turns to 
 the period when we, who now enjoy our little span of 
 existence in this chcriiicrcd scene, shall have gone down 
 into the dust, and shall funiisli the same moral to our 
 children that our fathers do to us ! The sun will then 
 shine as bright, the flowers will bloom as fair, the face 
 of nature will be as ])lcasing as ever, while it'e are re- 
 posing in our narrow cell, heedless of everything that 
 once clranned and delighted us ! 
 
 Solon enacted, that children who did not maintain 
 their parents in old age, when in want, should be brand- 
 ed with infamy, and lose the privilege of citizens ; he, 
 however, excepted from the rule those children whom 
 their parents had taught no trade, nor provided with 
 other means of procuring a livelihood. It w.is a prov- 
 erb of the .Jews, that he who did not bring up his ton 
 to a trade, brought op as a thief. 
 
 If there bo a lot on earth worthy of envy, it is that 
 ofa man, good and tendcrhearied, who beholds his 
 own creation in the happiness of all those who sur- 
 round him. lyct him who would be happy strive to 
 encircle himself with happy beings. Let the happi- 
 ness of his family he the incessant object of his 
 thoughts. Let him divine the sorrows and anticipate 
 the wishes of his friends. 
 
 A Ciieehiiil IIkaht paints the world as it finds 
 it, like a sunny landscajie; the morbid mind dciiicts 
 it like a sterile wilderness, palled with thick vapors, 
 and dark as "the shadow of death." It is the mirror, 
 in short, on which it is caught, which lends to the face 
 of nature the aspect of its own turbulence or tranquil- 
 ity- 
 
 An Excusk. — Miravanx was one day accosted by 
 a sturdy beggar, who asked alms ot him. " IIow Is 
 this," inquired Miravau.\, " that a lusiy fellow like 
 you is unemployed?" "Ah!" replied the beggar, 
 looking very jiitcously at him, " if you did but know 
 how lazy I am !" The reply was so ludicrous and un- 
 expected, that Jliravaux gave the varlet a piece of 
 silver. 
 
 An Incident. — At the time Commodore Elliot 
 commanded ihe navy at Norfolk (I think it was) hap- 
 pening to be conducting a number of ladies and gen- 
 tlemen who were visiting the yard, he chanced to see 
 a little boy who had a bugk«t full of chijis, which he 
 had gathered in khe yard , ))robably to show his im- 
 ))Ortance he saluted him, and asked where he got the 
 chips. "In the yard," replied the boy. "Then drop 
 them," said the brave man. The little boy dropped 
 the chips as he was ordered, and after gaining a safe 
 distance, turning round with his thumb on his nose, 
 said, "that is the first prize you ever took, any how I " 
 
 SoMBTniNG Like Gentility. — The Providence 
 Transcript says, there is a lady so aristocratic that she 
 refuses to take a newspaper because it is made of rags. 
 
 -liv 
 
 CAliLETllNS Hr.ST ^•|IVFJ,. The liLATK BAKON- 
 KT: (ir, tln' < hrnniili-s iil' ll.Tlh tiiiiii. .Mr. Donahoe, 
 oflioston. will i^slle fnnii his Sliinii I'rinliiig Trc-tes on 
 the mil of Kcbrli:iry. Ilii- :il..,v.- IjifjUlv j;ol.nllu- book. The 
 follow iiig are n li-w iil* Ilic ojjiiiidn... of the Jiish press ujiou 
 this very excifiii;.' mid tlirilliitg stor\'. 
 
 I'niui III, Diililiti Friiman' Journal, 
 
 "The public liiive hicii liir soiiielime on the tiptoe of ex- 
 pectation lor Carleloii's new work, 'i'liey have been prom- 
 ised " Carleton's greatest \\ ork." mid in this. tcMi, tlieir an- 
 ticipalioiis liave been fnllllled. The " Hliiek iiunniet" is 
 really CarMou'n rlu-/ dm tn-r, : mid it will iiudonhiedly take 
 its idncc among tlie iiiiister-pieees nf Jielion. It is a pro- 
 duction in which Carleimi bus snj i>;is>-ed himself.'' 
 From li„ llMii, y.ilinn. 
 
 " Of all Carleton's Nm il.<, iliis in inir judgment is by fir 
 the best. The " Black Bmoiiet,- Iji.d he written no other 
 work, would entitle t iirii-Iini In the foremo.'.t place among 
 our Irisli novelists, tor in the whole range of their pro- 
 ductions, tliey hii\e mil incMliM'iil mivthiiig to eijual Ibis." 
 Fmiii III. Diililii, T.liirmph. 
 
 '■Mr. Carleimi li., his i miv ..spi els, the highest place 
 
 as a iiatiuiiul inndist. m;<l il u>'i(l.'>ii:il>le ].i out i.l this were 
 still wanting, ll.i- uviilitv with whieh his piiidiiclioiis are 
 sought utter and reud in Iielai.il, »ouUI us Ktiuiigly es- 
 tiiblisli bis title to pie-eiiiiiieiiee. as it would iiHoid unde- 
 niable evidence or bis ))opularity as an accurate ai;d faith- 
 ful delineator n\ the nianiiers, customs, and sentlnients of 
 his eoiinlryineii. 'I'he work before us is replele witli Ihe 
 author's (■.xi'clleiieies, whilst his defects, as a writer of fic- 
 tion, me Il-\M'r mirl mole far between in this, than iu any 
 ofhis pic-vhius«.iiks." 
 
 We iiii^'ht euiitjiiiie these extracts fTom the Irish press, 
 but the iih.ivi' ..,,iiii,,Ms of the leiicliiip jouniHls of the Jlish 
 metropnlis. »i|| Mill re loshow »lint Iheuork is that has 
 been puhli-hiil in Uiihliii. und re-jiiodiieiil. in hiiiulilul 
 sivle. I.v .Mr. Doiinhoe, of Boston. Jlie book is embellish- 
 ed with' two engravings, and is sold for the low jiricc of 
 
 [[ ,=-(t will be tent to any part of the United Stales and 
 British r<»s.-essioiis. postage paid, on the reception of scven- 
 
 ty-H> "Is inslmnps. 
 
 •,*Cliili> titin Im- lormed in cities or towns for tlie book 
 To clubs ol -l.\. ilie book will be sent for $3.50. Clubs ot 
 twelve. S*).!"!. ill each ease, the person oidering for the 
 club must pay expense of traiisiiorialion. 
 
 1-ATBICK IkiSahoE, 23 Franklin St., 
 (Foil Sale nv all Bdokrellekb.] Boston. 
 
 SE. SANHOKN, Wholesale and Belail Dealer in (,OLD 
 • and .Silver Watches. Ji.wi.i.nv. .^^ilvi-r Wake, 
 Faxcv tidoiis,. &e. No. 134 Federal Sini't. Boston. 
 
 0^— I'urtienlar alleiilion given to Bepuiiing Watches, 
 Clocks, Jewelry, &e. (tc. feM3 
 
 WII,I,IAMS& CO.. Whollsllle At.eiits. I,,l the IlilSH 
 • MlstKLI.A.W. 'Ihe 'Jliiiiesui.|,ii..l «ilh i;<,i.l;.«. Ic- 
 riodicalsniid Newspapers, ."^i.ieiiil A;;<i,ts Ini- llmper & 
 Brothers I'ubiicatious. Ko. lUO Waehingtou street. 
 
 teb20 ISUBTUN. 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 31 
 
 ADVEBTISBMENTS. 
 
 -*■ J, iff*) Yr^ v-r I «>' 1^-;* 
 
 
 b^- 
 
 '^^^iM^W 
 
 AMOSEMENTS. 
 
 Ki;is r.i;i)i]ii:i!. 
 
 ■T».j(iKi;is r.i;i)i 
 
 HUNTLKY'S MIN- 
 lool Street, oupusitc 
 
 .MONUAV I'AI'.iMM 
 
 I'hc luill h: 
 
 stluit 
 
 7"l>oors open nt 6 3-4 o'clock ; perfortnnuce comn 
 .' .It 7 1-2. LVK MOKIUS & J. T. JIUNILKI 
 
 P,,|,l:j tf IJusiiiesa Manage 
 
 iiiiler this the 
 
 der ten years, 
 
 commenc- 
 EY, 
 
 agers. 
 
 PBOSPECTUS. 
 
 rlilSll JMS( l:l.l, AW. l'.(l^|,clill 
 
 III l-'iillinliiy the 
 llbli^l■l'll ihij llret 
 title, 
 
 111 iioliticul liihtory ul' Ireland, 
 and Iiiilitieul elevutiou ol'tlil 
 
 11), cn' title, 
 ii„«l,clge,oi 
 
 printed i 
 
 rl,ril I 
 
 1 111 page.s of cloficly 
 i-iniilar to tlilH pros- 
 i.ii ililivery ; or »2 a 
 ihImiiico. 
 
 ln:Ji Uli.-icrflnnT/j it is 
 inn lo lrl■^|lal■l^ upon 
 I'liii]- ciilcMiiioraries. 
 inni.iilhvlv iiiwunrt 
 
 'il li\ 
 
 ililii 
 
 T & A would inform Publislicrs, Antliors and Printers, 
 that thev arc nreiKired to undci-take'all orders for Design- 
 ing, linnvinj. and Engraving, from a fingle iUustrat-"- *" 
 
 series of any extent. I 
 strict regard to superior v 
 
 li'ooks and Newspaperi 
 ■kiiiuiisliip ami moderate cliargci 
 
 P. 
 
 Al'nl'lli;c,\KY. (■■ 
 
 er place in the city. 
 
 S' }i —Orders punctually attended to, day or night. 
 Kesidence, No. 28 South street, Boston. 
 [i:y=Ci rave-Clothes furnished to order at short notice. 
 iebl3 
 
 ^ \V,.|,r.iiH.-r l,,.-i,lliv:il,. I, li.'l.l v.liiHi, iillliougU 
 
 V rich 'mil Irilil.', iii-il .■ii|ii-lili- III' I ling tTlc 
 
 'ill. «(■!■< mill IViiiis 111' liii'iiiiiiM'. Iiiih liiilii'ilii lam 
 atively hancn and Uliinoiliielii e. lulu Ihi.^ lield w 
 ter with u full conlideiiee of its capabilities, hut with 
 .t dillldence of the skill which we shall bring to its 
 
 thepviblieiili. 
 with ■ 
 
 r liciu i 
 
 riiii 
 
 ch to I 
 
 th liiil Ic 
 1(1 i.f iiiir 
 
 that 
 
 while 
 
 
 teem 
 
 — wl 
 
 ile we 
 
 ling 
 
 that is 
 
 add 
 
 place 
 
 I cillli. 
 
 i.gi'tlu 
 
 A^^ 
 
 coustanlly mi li; 
 ported l^erfunu 
 choice Syrups. 
 Cigars constant 
 
 NY of the following works, published by 1'. M. HAV- 
 
 ' llfl Fulton street, New Youk, will be sent tree 
 
 receipt of the amount in money or postage 
 
 "ll'i'Ml'NF.srENSE.S OF AN EMIGRANT MILE.SIAN. 
 Iir Ili^ll A III nail iiiiil at lloiue: with .'^iiuvenirs of the Brig- 
 
 P. 
 
 X.KEaTIXG.'IJi; 
 No. 2 Spring Lam 
 
 rir.xEU and Exgravee on Wood, 
 Boston At Jackson & Foyues. 
 
 •T-TTllY BUIIX GAS BY DAYLIGHT ? STEl'IIEN 
 VV HGE & CO Inventors and Manufacturers of the 
 TmpV.oved Davi uiht lij.:i-l.iX'Tou, for diffusing the 
 heif»hvfiW.tofdavi,itoall dark places. No. 23 Stalest., 
 Boston, aud No. 3i I'aik street. I'.altimorc. 
 N. B. Call and see it in operation. 
 
 febl3 
 
 C--tIL3IOlU- 
 TT TIlX, -Ir 
 
 ;\LE.M QUADBILLE BAND. E. UF- 
 ■iiinpter. Apply to 1'. .S. GlLMOKE, Es- 
 
 OOLEY'S MERCHANTS' EXCHANGE HOTEL, 
 State Street, Boston, conducted upon the European 
 
 [7=-Rooms, per day— 50 cents. 
 1'. S. After the 1st of April li 
 his Ni..«- llutel, Xu. 25 riiillai 
 
 WILLIA-M JI-^XXIM 
 TAKKll of til 
 
 .-liiUl. I'l 
 
 , SI, I 
 
 Bv 
 
 lllBEKMAX XK.IITS- KMKICT.UX.M EXT 
 ;-iiiiiicl lnT"iisoii, l,l,.ll.. Kiliti.r 111 llii- Hiililni Cuivclsl- 
 v Mil. .a7iiieri2 111",, i-liilli. 5i'4 pages, fi ici' ^1,2.5. 
 'EMMKl: Lives iif lioticrt and Thomas Addis Emmet, 
 villi 11 iiii'inoinif Hubert Holmes. Two portraits on steel. 
 
 held 1 
 foolish, absurb and vi- . , , 
 
 the true character of our i»u|,k. bvloie the public eye. or 
 vindicate our name and raei> liuio the caluninieswith which 
 English hale everywhiiepinsiKs us. 
 ■1° ,.u,irit. ill suiiie niia.Mue. this crying evil, it was at 
 iber of Irishmen dis- 
 nd publish monthly 
 1 rL-\ lew w liirli, Inr slerliiig talent, should be second to 
 uone iiiililislied inn- "i- in Kiiorpe. The great exjiense con- 
 iieoueiit iipuii nil niiikrtaUiiig of this magnitude, deterred ua 
 from till' iitleinpt. euiniiillcil us to relimiuish our design, 
 and to substitute instead thereof, our more uupreteudiug 
 
 " Msr^:/;n/ii/." , ,, . ,. , It 
 
 We propose to re-produce in onr weekly periodical the 
 writiii'^s of many of the great minds who have gone before 
 us wTiile we shall also cull from the current Irish litera- 
 ture of tlie diiv, such productions of merit cannot fail to be 
 ace ipliblu lu uiir re.iders v.ir country is rich in legcndry 
 lore, aiul till' li-^iiiils ol the old land, while they amuse, 
 serve lu iiislniet and to elevate. 
 
 We shall llierelure jiulilish such instructive tales and le- 
 gends of a high moral tone, that will remind us of the hap- 
 py times wh™ wc^- ^^^^ ^^_^ ^^^ ^^^^^ ^"^^^^^^ ^^.^^^^ 
 
 Along with our friends tilling tales of delight." 
 
 We shall give faitliful ili-sriplimis imd illiislralions of 
 Irisbantiquities— of our riiinil iiiuii;i,-tei;ijs. un^r ]i]undere(l 
 abbeys and cliurc' ' ' ' '' 
 
 UA\TS'.s ri 
 ;ll. IS 
 
 •:51.s 
 elulhpi 
 
 With 
 
 an introduction by John Mitch- 
 Moore's Life of Lord Edward 
 
 I'rice 75 
 iy Lady : 
 
 ETfZI.KK.M.l 
 Eitzgeiald. 12111 
 
 WlIJi 1111,--11 GllIL; By 
 2 vols, in one. i'riee, 6U conti.. . 
 
 1' JI 11 will also send any of the publications ot 1. 
 Donalioc, of B " ....,....„.....-.■>•„... v.'„...- >,„ 
 
 y Morgan. ISmo., cloth. 
 
 1 the 
 
 : tern 
 
 BS. TKEANOR, ATTORNEY 
 . A- - 
 
 _,.„_ Nil COUNSELLOR 
 
 at' LAW, is 'Massachusetts Block, Court Square, 
 Boston. . , ,, 
 
 p^?"l'articnlav attention paid to Conveyancing, and the 
 exaniiiialioii ullitles of Real Estate. febl3 
 
 1 llie iiiiblie. tliiil he ki 
 
 .usiiualities fur ,-aie. and cotHii plates 
 
 i;.y" 
 
 of (j 
 
 i.'M. 
 
 SUI'EKIS I'.IUIKS : 
 ,_ atleiitiunuflM.uk- 
 cral, tu tlii-ir .-iipiib ei 
 
 TIIIC WAY TO HEAVE.N '. A s 
 ir dailv use. 9 steel engravings. 
 
 & J. SADLIER& CO., invite the 
 IS. Dealers, and the public in gen- 
 ■liun of Sliui'liird Cnlliiilic Korl.s! 
 fulli-rliun uf I'nner I'.uuks, pub 
 nufllisEMlilii-iieeCurdiir.il Wi,-e 
 uiiii-l.T. 1 Ihr .Musi Uev. .Join 
 
 CaDiulic devo- 
 
 . ,.,,|,l(,|r friiver Book 
 
 L- I rilT, S;l lo K25. 
 
 Icet iiuinuel of prayers 
 I'rice, from 50 cents to 
 
 i;.\(iiiKi; & 
 
 .N(ii.\i:v IT r.ijc 
 
 fainilii:rsi;rnri- 
 
 im/,/«ilu-ui'iliii 
 in the best stvk 
 We shall kei-j 
 glory of our eu 
 the moral and 
 England and tl 
 barbarism ; we 
 fut 
 
 iilait. 
 
 ill p, 
 
 ■Milt III lu\ iiig minds many 
 null. We have secured the 
 each number of the Miscd- 
 ilurial illustrations executed 
 
 ntlv befur. 
 
 iir readers the ancient 
 
 ponderwitli pride upon 
 
 intilliclual superiorilv of Ireland, when 
 
 le re.-t of Europe was snuk in ignorance and 
 
 - , - - shall point to the past as an incentive to the 
 
 The bicraphies of distinguished Irishmen -sill be an im- 
 ■iitiiie in the ir/.s/i Jlf/sc<';/(»Tj/, as we shall give bio- 
 distinguished in every de- 
 iid art— of men dislinguish- 
 lie church, the senate, and 
 
 portant 1 
 grajiliical 1 
 
 iitenliimlo republish the 
 
 rks of Irish 
 
 Ills lit llll 
 
 I'iIk 
 
 ng gen 
 
 ratii 
 
 ~miu\iil uiiluiiinded popularity. 
 if the , 111 s(. //Kill/ to each number 
 ill. To do this we have ordered a 
 clers, so that the poems printed 
 1 language can be reprinted in 
 i;.-lish translation in ours. This 
 ,',ii will be in the bauds ofau Irish 
 
 l,|ir|l- 
 
 i.rilie -V/ 
 
 lid 41 Ann street, tre 
 
 'li'LTLEU'SLIVE.'^01''riIE SAINTS: 4 Volumes, 8vo., 
 'i fii.'niviugs. from S5 to Slli. 
 
 (i \RDliN OFTHESOIJL: A manuel of fervent prayers, 
 or the use of Catholics. 10 steel engravings. Price, from 
 
 "•i'ii'e'b." fil 11 1 I'A I!A UISE: Or, Way of Salvation.— 
 
 'fill' "\l.ru; .M \M KL: Or. Instructionsand Devotions 
 ur I 111111— iuiis -11111 CuiMiiiuniou. with visits to the Blessed 
 iieriinii'Ut &e ' Price, from 75 cents to 83. 
 
 G Mi; OF HEAVEN: Or, way of the Child of Mary; 
 ^ iil'i pravers at Mass, illustrated. Price, from 20 cents to 
 
 volu 
 
 .s\i)LiEits Finnsinr. iabhary. ismo. 
 
 4011 piii!is,with a steel portrait in each. Price 50 cents; gilt. 
 
 THE lidSI'nx s 
 ,M1;M'. Xu, 2 S, 
 ecuteluuiiirr, .Kill I'KIM IN 
 
 N STEAJI .11 IB PHINTING ESTABLISH- 
 wavspivpareil lo ex- 
 ■ r-. lir-iTiiiliun, in the 
 
 Colored I'l 
 Labels; la 
 eculed will 
 Eslablislilu 
 
 dsui'all kinds: Fluek Wi.rk. iie 
 a braiilv u^^tvle aiidliiiish uiie- 
 nlinlhecuuiitry. W. K, 
 
 tthi 
 
 III |.i 
 
 -'//(7HJ/ will be devo- 
 i'jiiial articles, tales. 
 
 country iiieii, or 
 
 a.ntii will be iliuiunglil\ independent of all 
 -ihe slave of none Such questions as af- 
 iiun here, we shall discuss with IVcedom, 
 bor for their moral, intellectual and politi- 
 
 TlK 
 
 ■ill be divided anio 
 
 iifabilii 
 
 ake the jV/', 
 
 till' III 
 
 W 
 
 veral gentle 
 ■rlUniii a Wl'l 
 lb llie.-e le 
 
 I'roprietors of the Boston Sle 
 
 A' & CUNXIXGHAJI. BILL 11 
 
 Xo 7. TALi'.su; 
 tin. Willi Sli'i'l I'.i 
 
 Xu. S. ri'r.i'.i.i; 
 
 Talis uflri-b \M--. 
 Thvallenliun nil 
 
 si.X.SES: By Gerald Grif- 
 
 ilhur. 
 
 111.. K.'d VVcIl,and other 
 
 \'. h 
 
 I'll 
 
 X.,, i;. fill'. 1 
 
 Lit", r.v William I'lul.'lon. 
 
 1). & .1. .'sAliLlKU & Co.. New \ Ol 
 lio.slon. 12.S Federal Street: .Montreal 
 aud bt. Fraucu Xaviur iitieets. 
 
 i; ,-( IK )LAU: Aud other tales of Irish 
 
 aih'lon. 
 
 k, 1154 AVilliam street: 
 
 KELLY & CUXXINI 
 Iribulors, No.2 Wi 
 uf all II 
 
 Owiiu'lii Hie "li'ii i I'lie in llii'ir business, thev have 
 
 beenuWigi'.l lu'i.lil hui-is ami wagons to their heretofore 
 auipli' lu'eominiulaliinis, lo which they give their personal 
 
 •.♦Thanliful for past favors they would respectfully so- 
 licit a conliuuaiice of iiublic patronage. 
 
 KELLY & CLNXIXGHAM, 2 Williams Court, 
 f,bl3 "'"^'•"^' 
 
 TANNER. HALl'IX fc COMPANY. DlKEC 
 i.lsiiKKs, AliVEKTlsixo and Coi.i.l,:('TlNU A. 
 Ill South Clark slieel, Chicago, Illinois, conipiley. 
 Cooke & Co's. City ami Butiness Diieelury. < liii' 
 rectories compiled for Local I'ubli-ln-rs m any pi 
 Western States. . '''■•^'■•''' 'vI^m''' 
 
 I'un- 
 
 \oiiN'r.^, No. 
 levs of D. B. 
 
 Chicago, Feb, 13 
 
 Alla: 
 
 I.I p_i 
 
 shi'i't to the support of every well 
 ftel llii'ie is rouui for such a pnh- 
 I nulhing slia 1 1 be wanting on our 
 
 '"'" '""■■•"" ji'(;'iv,sbX,'l'''o'vXl>'& ( ()., PUBLISIIEKS, 
 
 2 Spring Lane. Boston. 
 [r?=- Communications to Editors to be addressed— Care of 
 rnblishers, 2 Spring Lane, Boston. 
 
 PRINTED and PU!UJ!<HED by Jackson. Foynes, ATo., 
 No. 2 Spkixg Lake,— BO'STON. 
 
 RATES OF ADVEimsING. 
 
 FOU EACH SQUARE OF TWELVE LINES. 
 
 First insertion, . . . Sl.uiH Three months, . . ?IJ.O0 
 Each subsequent do. . CO | line v" 
 
 six liiies or less const'itule fialf a square 
 Larger advertisements charged in proportion 
 
 Business Notices, solid 
 u •* leaded 
 
 10 cents per line. 
 15 " " " 
 
 BUSINESS CAJRDS of six lines ok less. 
 
 For One Month, . . . S1.50 1 Six Mouths, . . 
 Three Montlis, . . . 83.00 1 One 1 ear, , . . 
 •.•All advcrtiieEienls payable in advance. 
 
IITusit composci) crprcssli) for t|c |rislj pisccllanj|. . 
 
 FOTirrTl"^^ B^^" T- ISdlOOPlE. 
 
 li^/I-CrSIO B^S' J. -^AT". T-CriR,l>TEB,. 
 
 it AXUAXTINO E NKSTOSO. 
 
 
 1. .Slic is far from the land wliero her young ho - ro sleeps, And lev - ers arc round her, 
 
 2. She elwrn the wild song of her dear na - tive plains, Ev'ry note wliich ho loved un - 
 
 
 i3^ii^iEiiEiEp|ii^Egii2Eiiie?E^^ 
 
 T— N- 
 
 ryit-Q- T- ^ T--^ ^ _ _ ^ 
 
 Eg^5=?=z:|:^5=^= 
 
 l:\z 
 
 T-^ 
 
 ~4~ 
 
 
 -^' 
 
 -j^- 
 
 1^1 
 
 But cold - - ly she turns from their gaze, 
 Ah ! lit - tic they think who de - light 
 
 ^ 
 
 :r^p=l: 
 
 A--\] 
 
 r^^iipiijzt: 
 
 and weeps, For her heart 
 
 in her straiiLS, How the heart 
 
 in his 
 of the 
 
 P=--^l-s-:^-^=^^-g:-E^:^-^ 
 
 •- -0- 
 
 m 
 
 
 4 
 
 grave is ly -ing, 
 
 Miu - strel is breaking, 
 
 
 For her heart in his grave is ly - ing. 
 
 How the heart of the Mia - strel is break - ing. 
 
 
 — I- 
 
 ^^ 
 
 i^ 
 
 zd: 
 
 
 izzl: 
 -jf- 
 
 iiztzz) 
 
 ^-*— zN- 
 
 
 ^I? 
 
 
 i;^^^^ 
 
 3. 
 
 He had lived for his love, for his country he died, 
 Tlipy were all that to life had entwined him ; 
 
 Nor soon shall the tears of his country be dried, 
 Nor long will his love stay behind him. 
 
 Oh ! make her a grave where the sunbeams rest, 
 
 ■\Vlien they promise a glorio\is morrow ; 
 Tliey'U shine o'er her sleep, like a smile from the West, 
 
 From her osvn loved isUmd of sorrow. 
 
 Entered according lo Act of Congress, in ths year 1853, by JACKSON & FOYNE?, In lllo Clerk's Offlco of fUo District Court for the District of .M^isMChawttt). 
 
VOLUME I.— NUMBER 3. ] 
 
 BOSTON, SATURDAY, FEBRUARY 27, 1858. 
 
 [PRICE FOUR CENTS. 
 
 HISTORICAL 
 NOTICE OF THE CITY OF DUBLIN 
 
 A few years ago, at a iiuijlic mectinj; in the city of 
 Glasgow, a worthy old man who had made a sort of 
 tour throughout Ireland, dilated in a speech \ipon its 
 miserable condi ion, painted it in dark and gloomy 
 colors, and concluded with a warm and earnest a|)peal 
 :o those present, to 'take pity on that unhappy coun- 
 :ry.' This roused the blood of one of the audience — 
 ind he was an Irishman ! He could not sit still and 
 
 hear the land of his birth caricatured, or permit any 
 one to go away with false impressions ; and so, in par- 
 liamentary phrase, he ' got on his leg*,' and in glowing 
 and energetic terms rebutted the charge of Ireland 
 being a miserable and a degraded countrj-. Dtini^iu, 
 he told them, was one of the finest cities of Europe; 
 hayirg a greater number of benevolent institutions 
 than any on ■ ol a similiar size throughout the world ; 
 while with genuine Irish eloquence he enlarged upon 
 the politt-ness and hospitality of its inhabitants, ilie 
 splendor of its public buildings, and the variety of its 
 
 literary and scientific associations. When he conclud- 
 ed, a dissenting and well-known clergyman of Glas- 
 gow, an intelligent and liberal man, started to his feet, 
 and exclaimed, 
 
 ' Ii]-eathes there the man with soul so dead, 
 ' Who never to himself hath said, 
 - This is my own, my native land.' 
 Thunders of applause followed, and the honest and 
 out-spoken defender of his native metropolis sat down 
 amid the approbation of a large audience. 
 Now look at the wood-cat, and say if, even in thia 
 
 indistinct view, DuM'n docs not deserve the appella- 
 tion of ' njiiii! city ? ' True, it wants somHhiinj which 
 London and Edinburgh hive ? we arc told that our 
 metropolis wann the business and the bnsiU', of the 
 Eiifrli-h and the singular and rumantie iiir of the Scot- 
 tish metropolis. But in our miniature way, we arc 
 much more busy aiid bustling here ilinn in the 'great 
 city.' London is the ele| hunt of cities, enormous but 
 c»lm, peforming its mighty efibrts with such habits of 
 regular and unostentatious stnngtli that we only leeome 
 conscious of what is doing, by reflection upon what 
 
 DUBLIN FROM THE PJKENIX PARK. 
 
 has been and must be done. It is true, that in the 
 great thoroughfare from Charing Cioss to Whitechnpel 
 there is a rushing sound of men and carriages and 
 horses, (rnvclling to and fro : but this is cmpliaticnily 
 I /lie gre-it thoroughfare, and what are fnur or tivc miles 
 of sfeet, compared with the huge mass of London! 
 In ' the city,' ihc calmness and utter absence < f nut- 
 sideshow, where we know there is such prodigious 
 business, and prodigiius we«llh, seems very extraor- 
 dinary to an Irishman. And again in Edinburgh, 
 beautiful and romantic as it is, its old town liuddKd 
 
 
 upon the hill, i>nd guarded by the fortre.'s which, perch- 
 ed on high, fi owns upon all around, and fills tlie eye 
 f cm whatever point you view the place, oritsncw town, 
 swelling away round the base of the rock, hniltof 'rale 
 stone,' and justifying in some degree the app'I'aiion 
 which the utidern Athenians have asiitjuil, \\v 'ciiy 
 of ]);ilHec8 ; ' even tV, can it boast of -ucb a vii w as one 
 may have, standing upon Carlisle Biidge, and 1 iol;ing 
 enstwaids, wc-tward", northwards, aiul souibwurds? 
 First, the h)ng ccuiiiincd line ofcjuays extending ri.ht 
 through the centre of the ciiy, from Hiujjicnd point to 
 
34 
 
 IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 tlio Military ronil a dittnoi'e of nearly ilirco miles. In 
 tliu iliruciion oftlio buy, lliu Ccisloin-lioiiso (mie our 
 liLst niiDilivr) rWtui; ut u little disdincu iiiull llie beuuiy 
 oC truly eliLs.tinil arcliiluclurr, and surroundi'd liy »hi|is 
 mill other vosscln ormnsiilcrtililo size, wbinh iiiijiroHch 
 i|uilo close to tlio l>tiil;,'o ; to the west, llio bridges crowil- 
 ed with huij iiicrtaU piissinf; iind repnsving ; in the 
 distiinl jiorspt'ciivo, the Four Courts, iiud difl'ercnt 
 churches, whose domes and spires tire mu towfring 
 nliovo the Inlervenii ;; huildiii|-s ; while still I'uiiher olV, 
 the Wellington Tostimuninl {oecnpjiiij; the foro 
 |;ronnd in our wood-cut,) may he distinctly ohservcd, 
 risin;; iiliovo ihe trees iu the I'liieuix Tark. To the 
 north, Stteksvillu-street, one of the most splendid streets 
 in Kuropo having in its eeiilre the noble ( ilhir erected 
 in memory of tlio iininorial Nelson ; on the left of it, 
 tlio Post OlVice, a ciwcinicn of elegant nnil clinstc areh- 
 itecliiro, while southward is Trinity College and Uic 
 Bank. 
 
 What nssocialiuns dots that noble building, with its 
 handsome dome — the Four Coukis— create in the 
 mind? Every man in Dublin knows what ii delight- 
 ful place the hall of the Four Courts is ; s-o divcrsilied 
 and apparently cmifuscd ; exhihiiion of aiuoiUy group 
 of harrisiers, Imilills, attorneys, men and women, col-- 
 lectcd from all parts, dividid into smaller circles, the 
 component menihers of which are severally engaged 
 in disputing, asseverating, and denying — in lighting 
 over again in the hull, that which has been decided in 
 the court ; or in making fresh preparations for a re- 
 newal of legal sliife. And what eloi|Ucnce has echoed 
 within it — what nit has made its walls to ring again 
 — what feeling has roused every emotion of the heart ! 
 Passing onwards, let us walk along the (|uays, cross 
 one of the bridges, and stand at the open iron gate that 
 leads into Trinity College, lie are moored, as it were 
 at the continence of sundry human tides, and hundreds 
 and thousands arc passing by. Before us is the eiiucs- 
 train statue of king William; and in the indistinct 
 smoky distance, the Castle, and to our right, that ma- 
 jestic pile of building, the B,vnk. What a change 
 has passed upon the circumstances anil associations 
 of all these! Within that maisivo structure, were 
 wont to be uttered, the splendid aniiiheses of Grattan, 
 the caustic wit of Curran, the oily and glazing nm- 
 plitications of Castlercagh the puns of .John Toler, 
 the wit of Husbc, the blunders and tlie bulls of the .Mo- 
 mus of our Irish Olympus, Sir Boyle Kochc. It is 
 now three o'clock; some thirty-four or thirty-five years 
 ago, we rcmcmhei standing at the same ]ilacc, al.d at 
 the same hour, not to witness the rusliof cleiks and 
 men of business, with llioughts intent upon drafts and 
 checks, and pajier and gold: but to sec the array of 
 lords and commons as they entered their legislative 
 halls. Sec ! there comes //re duke's coach turning 
 round from Nassnu.strcet, you may seethesirawbciry. 
 leaved coronet, and the baboon supporters. Boy's let 
 us give n shout for the Duke of I.ienstcr! Methinks 
 some one behind me cries out, 1 es ! and another for 
 Lord Eilward Filzgerabl ' hurrah, boys, let us all cry, 
 crom-a-boo! Whose carriage is this dashing down 
 Uarae-slrcct, with six horses all hot ami blown, as if 
 coming from a distance, and the outriders in white ? 
 That's Tom Coxsolly of Castletown, a man above a 
 Cttstic price or jiension. And whose is that splendid 
 equipage with its running footman coming slowly 
 along in proud parade, and its owner sitting so stilf 
 
 and so lordly '. Oh I that s the proud Earl of B , 
 
 a specimen of the French ' Viclle Court,' very haugh- 
 ty, verj- prolligate, and very brave. But who is tl is 
 little man luscending the colonnade, whose recognition 
 every one seems anxious to gain ? The patriot of '82! 
 — Hbnhy Grattan ! His prominent Frenchified 
 features; his little body and long stride; his port so 
 particular ; his bearing like his mind, so antilhcticul 
 and ambitious ; were you ami he accidenily to meet 
 under a shed, while avoiding a shower of rain, you 
 would say, here is either a singular or a great man! 
 But who is this other little man, smirking and smil- 
 ing, with chin protruded, and keen blaik eye, cast up 
 towards the skies, as if be was saying some witty or 
 saucy thing to one above him ? Oh I Joux Piiili-ot 
 
 Cdrrak ! If in figure and proportion ho Is far below 
 a man, in wil and biimtir and force and olci|ueiice he 
 is as far above ! What a piiy that an angel's intellect 
 should be given to preside over a will and alfictions 
 so nncrctain and so unbound ! lint stay, the vision is 
 vanishing — the /in/,/: is ejecting nothing but cloiks, 
 and merchants, and messengers I Let uii turn away, 
 and look down Westmorchindstrect, towards Carlisle 
 Bridge. A gain we say, no eihj in Europe nan nuilr/i 
 Hiiili a vinv .' But let ns pass onwards, npyaikville- 
 streot, and turn round till we reach Summer-hill- 
 This is the Clifion of Dublin, and from the windows 
 of one of these houses, what a view may be obtained 
 The ^loiintains in the back ground, runinding us of 
 Wicklow and its thousand and one enchantments ! the 
 remarkable eminence aptly termed Siigai-lf.af; the ser- 
 rated back of Bray-head ; the three, tojiped promonto- 
 ry of Ki'liliey ; the spangling vilhn of Kingstown, en- 
 closing its fair harbor; and above all, the bay — the 
 beautiful bay — basking in the clear sunsliino and bear- 
 ing on its broad bosom the numerous sail ships and 
 steamers, cniering or leaving the harbor. 
 
 Our wood-cut represents in iis foreground the hand- 
 some briilgo, called Sarah-bridge, soniellnies termed 
 the Irish HiALTO, and the span of which is, in fact, 
 seven feet wider than the famous Venetian-bridge. 
 The view does not admit the King's-bridge, erected 
 by subsciption in honor of the late king's visit to Ire- 
 land. That was a gay and a proud time, when Irish 
 hearts evinced how they could feel at the thought of a 
 Monaicit being on their soil, and residing in their me- 
 tropolis. And proudly and noble did he bear him- 
 self amid the thousards who shouted around, in that 
 spicious park, near the entrance of which the massive 
 pillor, called the AVcUington Testimonial, stands. 
 This park is very improperly termed the Plioeiii'x Parle, 
 that licing a gross cornii)tion from the old Irish name; 
 but the use of the name is so universally established, 
 that it would bo folly to attempt to remove it. 
 
 In giving historical sketches of Dublin it may not be 
 irrelevant to noliee that branch of ibc Geraldinc family 
 .so nincli connected with the City as being always their 
 neighbors, often their champions, and very frequently 
 their viceroys. The earls of Kildare commanding by 
 their castles of Maynooth, Jjiixlip, Kilken,&c., the ap- 
 proaches to the valley of tlicLilley, and having a fixed 
 residence at Thomas's Court adjoining the town, al- 
 ways oecupud an exceeding important posiiion in the 
 good 0])inions and alfoctions of the citizens. And in- 
 deed the peculiar characteristics of the family, which 
 were well defined as the well known lines of a Fitzger- 
 ald's iniiid, seemed best suited to rivet jiopular all'ec- 
 tion, and secure for them ' golden opinions.' In the 
 government of ihiir retainers, mild — to their enemies 
 stern — easily displeased — sooner appeased — warm 
 friends and bitter foes — liberal, brave, merciful — the 
 anecdote recorded of Gerald, the eighth Earl, might I.e 
 told of any other of the race. In a rage with one of 
 his followers, an English horseman seeing the chafed 
 earl in bis fearful moud, ottered Master Boice, a gen- 
 tleman of his liousehold, an Irish Hobby (I'oney) on 
 condition (hat he would go up to his lord and pluck a 
 hair out of his black beard. Boice, who knew his ma.s- 
 ter, and felt how far he might vcninre on a Geraldino's 
 nature, even while boiling in the luat of his clioler, ap- 
 proached his lord ami said, ' here, my inast<r, is one 
 who hiui promised mc a choice horse, if I snip one hair 
 out of your honor's chin.' ' One hair,' quoth the earl 
 — ' I agree thereto, but mark me Boice, thou malapert 
 varlef, if thou pliickest more than one, 1 premise thee 
 to bring my fist from thine ear.' But it is (pursuant 
 to our promise) with Gerald the ninth earl, and his .son 
 T4ioma8, that at present we have to do, and we present 
 them as subjects of historical entertainment to our read- 
 ers, because not only connected in a very interesting 
 manner wiih the City of Dublin, but also with o very 
 s'irring period of Ireland's histoiy. The ciiil wars of 
 England being brought to a close by the accession of , 
 the House of Tudor, and the politic Henry the Seventh 
 having seen the great value of Ireland, a system of 
 government was commenced in his reign, and adhered 
 to during the long reign of Henry the Ei(,'bth, of keep- I 
 
 ing up an English interest in Ireland, and managing 
 the great Irish lords, whether .Milesian or Anglo Irish, 
 by creating and fostering jealousies amongst them, and 
 ultcranU-'ly elevating or depressing the rival interests. 
 In this way was Gerald, carl of Kildare, at one time 
 favored, at anotlier suspected ; now lord deputy, now 
 aceuscil of treason ; one while pursuing, n« Chief Gov- 
 ernor of ilio land, the rebel Irish ; storming ihc slrong- 
 liolils ef the king's enemies in Monster and Ulster, 
 sending as iho most aceeptabla of pnsents, the grim 
 (lend of Shane O'Toole, from the glen of Inialc, to 
 John Uochford, major of Dublin, and n-turning from 
 ail his hosiings, as the historians of his day has it, 
 ' loaden with hostages, prey and glory ' — again sum- 
 moned to London to answer for bis luurpaiions, atd 
 his correspondeme with the enemies of the State, and 
 finding Cardinal Wolr-ey bis hitler as well as his able 
 enemy. Wolsey, in Older to ccnduct the English inter- 
 est, had sent over a confidential j>erson to Ireland, Dr. 
 .John Allen, who had been very active in England in 
 the suppretsion of the monasieiies — ibig clever and 
 subtle man, appointed at the same time lord chancellor 
 and aiehbishop of Dublin, acted as a counterpoise to 
 the Geruldines, and reported all their conduct to his 
 employer ; therefore on the earl of Kildare's appear- 
 ance before the Council Board of England, Wolsey, 
 with that swelling hauteur that marked the purpled 
 Churchman, and which gave occasion to the following 
 couplet, not more remarkable for its ulliicration thaa 
 its bitterness — 
 
 ' licfrut by butcher?, but by bishops bred, 
 How liigh his honor holds liis huu);hty head '— 
 accused the earl before the king in a tauniing style that 
 wounded ihc fierce nolileman more than ihe matter of 
 the allegation ; conniving at the rebellious pniciicesof 
 the 'lewd call of Desmond, his kinsman,' of acting 
 ' more as king of Kildare than the earl, reigning more 
 than ruling in the land.' To this the Geraldiiie most 
 charactei'isticnlly replies, ' What is Kildare to blame 
 for Desmond more than my good brother Ossory (But- 
 ler,) who, nolwiihstanding his high promises, having 
 also the king's power, is yet content to bring him in at 
 leisure? cannot the earl of Desmond shift, but I must 
 be of his council — cannot he hide himself except I wink 
 — if he be close, am Ibis mate — if he is befriended, am 
 I a traitor 1 This is a doughty kind of accusation which 
 they uige against me, wherein lliey are gravelled and 
 moved at my first denial. You would not see him, say 
 they. Who made them so familiar with mine eye- 
 sight — or where was ihe carl within my view — or who 
 siood by, when I let him slip — or where are the tokens 
 of my wilful hoodwink? But you sent him word to 
 beware of you — who was the messenger — where are 
 the letters — convince my negative — see how loose the 
 idle gear hangeth together — Desmond is not taken — 
 well — you are in fault — why — because you are — who 
 proveih it — nobody — what conjeciures — so it secmeth 
 — to whom — to your enemies — who told it them — they 
 will swear it — what other ground — none.' After tor 
 some time continuing in this strain to justify himself 
 from this accusation, and oihers of ihc same nature, 
 he in di fending himself against the taunt of being king 
 of Kildare, addres>es himself to Wolsey and says, ' I 
 marvel greatly, my Lord, that one of your Grace's 
 wisdom sI'.ouM appropriate so sacred a n.omc to so 
 wicked a lb ng — but howsoever it be, my Lord, I would 
 you and I had changed kingdoms but for one month, 
 and I would trust to gather up more crumbs in that 
 space than twice the rcvenuts of my poor earhlom. — 
 But you are well and warm, and so hold you, and up- 
 braid not mc with such an odious term. I slumber in 
 a hard cabin, when you sleep in asi ft bed of down — I 
 servo niider the king's cope of heaven, when yon are 
 served under a canopy — 1 drink water out of my steel 
 skull cup, when you drink wine out of golden cups — 
 iny horse is trained to the fiehl, when yuur jennet is 
 taught to amble. When you are graced and my-lord- 
 ed, and crouched, and kneeled unio, then I find small 
 grace wiih our Irish borderers, except I cut them otF 
 by his knees.' 
 
 It may well be supposed how the English arch pre- 
 late winced under this indignant rejdy of the Hibernian ; 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 35 
 
 aocordinpily ho adjourned tlio cause under pretence of 
 waitinj; for furilier evidence, and had the earl remand- 
 ed to the tower, from whence he was restored through 
 interest made for him hy the Knp;lish nobility, hut was 
 a^nin recommitted, and if Speed tells truth, a circum- 
 stance occurred, durinp his second detention in the 
 tower, which, as pivinj; another tint to the picture of a 
 Oer.ildine, is worth the reader's perusal. The cardinal 
 having: got at lenjith sure evidence, as he said, that Kil- 
 dare had plotted with O'Neil and O'Connor, sent a 
 mandate for hi'i immi diate execution. At the instant 
 of the arrival of the fatal messenger, Fiiz^crald was 
 playing at pushgroat with the lieutenant of the tower, 
 ■who on rending the paper chingert cotinicnanee, and 
 showed signs of great grief, whereupon Kildare swore 
 by St. Bri'lgct that there was some ' mad game in that 
 villain scroll. But come, Master lieutenant, fall what 
 will, this throw is for a tuddle,'and accordingly throw- 
 ing he gnined his eroats. The game over, with great 
 composure he listened to the contents of the letter, and 
 had little difficulty in persuading his keeper to go to 
 the king, and knoivfrom him personally whctticr he was 
 to die, accordingly the officer went and had an inter- 
 view with Henry, who, surprised at the mandate, which 
 was surreptitiously olitaincd from him, and offended 
 at the mdliee of the cardinal, and in order to con- 
 trol (as he said) the priest's sanciness, gave the lieu- 
 tenant his signet for a countermand of execution, at 
 which the cardinal stormed ; hut .soon after his day of 
 disgrace cume, and Kildare res'ored to royal fivor. 
 returned to Ireland to assume the sword as lord dep- 
 uty and to stand at the head of the party o|iposcd to 
 the English interest there. The changeful story of 
 this nobleman is not yet told — clever, dauntless, and 
 victorious, he shone brighter when breaking forth from 
 the cloud of adversity than when basking in unoh- 
 strurtod beams of g lod frrtrine. Hating the Butlers, 
 more perhaps, for enjoying the favor of Wolsoy, than 
 even from hereditary motive-, lie was not content with 
 carrying his arms ag.ainst the obstin.ite enemies of his 
 king, the O'Neils and O'Conncrs ; but with the royal 
 forces he invaded Kilkenny, and destroyed all belong- 
 ing to the Earl of Ossory and his party. Moreover, in- 
 stead of devoting himself to restoring peace and pros- 
 perity to the dist -acted island, he inadu himself a mere 
 partizan in the quaiTi Is of ihe Milesian chiiftains; and 
 in order to support his son-in law, the Tanist of Ely, 
 O'Carrol, against the deceased chieftain of that district 
 who being of age, and a competent man, had asserted 
 his right to succeed his father, he bcseigcd the castle of 
 Birr, held by the young O'Carrol, where he received a 
 shot from a falcon in the head, that caused Jiim to raise 
 the scige, and so deranged his intellect, that hot and 
 fiery as he was before, he now became more unruly, 
 and committed errors and extravagancies that nearly 
 brought about the dc-trui:tion of his noble family. 
 
 On the occasion of his wound, there is an anecdote 
 recorilcd of him that does not redound much to the 
 creilicofhis goodnature. When recovering a little 
 from the stun of the bullet, he sighed deeply, which 
 when one of his followers ohscrv. d, he, in order to 
 raise his lord's spirits, said — ' Good, my lord, be not 
 discouraged ; for I myself have been shot three times, 
 and yet have recovered ;' to which the angry lord re- 
 plied — ' Would to Goil thou hadst received also the 
 fourth shot in my stead !' 
 
 The extravagant use which Kildare made subsequent- 
 ly of his power as deputy, raised a host of enemies 
 against him which he could not resist. The Earl of 
 Ossory, Sir Willirm SkelTington, and Allen, Archbish- 
 op of Dublin, formed a cabal to put an end to bis ad- 
 ministration ; and John Allen, Master of the Rolls, a 
 creature of the Archbishop, was sent over the water to 
 complain to the king of how matters were managed in 
 Ireland. To the ear r^f an English monarch, the re- 
 port which this oHici il gave of the decay of Ireland, 
 must have been in no small degree vexations. lie ac- 
 quainted bis majesty, that ' neither English order, 
 ton^'iie, or habit, nor the king's laws, Wi-re used above 
 twenty miles in compass ; that the decay was occa- 
 sioned hy the takers of toijite and Ituirt/,* without or- 
 
 • IIorenfliT we slinll givca particular oxplniintion ofthe?c 
 lerm.s, wliicliBofrc(iiieiitly occur in liisiory. For tlie present, 
 let it bo understood to mean all tlic licence of the fVco quar- 
 teriujf of military mcu upou a wretched pennantry. 
 
 dcr, after mens' own sensual appetites, and taking cud- 
 dies yarti/, and caan for felonies, and murder, alkrayes, 
 mulls, slaimclafjlis, ij-c. (f-c, and that they want English 
 inhabitants, who formerly Jiad aims and servants to 
 (k fi'ud the country ; but of late the English proprietors 
 hath taken Irish tenants, that can live without bread 
 or giioil victuals, and some for lucre, [it seems that the 
 Irish landlord has been always pretty nearly of the 
 same character,! to have more rent, and some for im- 
 positions and vassalages, which the English cannot 
 bear — have expelled the English, and made the coun- 
 try all Irish, without order, society, or hospitality. 
 
 Formerly, Eng'ish gentlemen kept a retinue of Eng- 
 lish yeoman, according to the custom of England, to 
 the great seeuiiiy of the countiy ; but now they keep 
 horsemen, or hernos, who live by oppressing the peo- 
 ple. The great jurisdiction of the nobility is another 
 cause of destrojing the king's subjects, and revenue, 
 and the black rents which the Irish exact, enriches 
 them and impoverishes the English.' 
 
 It is not to be wondered at that upon such a report 
 being made, the Lord Deputy should he summoned to 
 London, to account for his administration. This 
 mandate he most unwillingly, and after much evasion, 
 obeyed ; and being permitted to name his successor, 
 on an undertaking of being accountable for his con- 
 duct, he had the hardihood to nominate his eldest son 
 Thomas, a young man of onc-and-twenty, who pos- 
 sesed all the qualiiies peculiar to his house, together 
 with an excessive rashness and sensitiveness of char- 
 acter that made him altogether unsuitable to govern 
 Ir.land. Perhaps, says the historian, tliis promising 
 ycmng GeraWlue wonhl have exceeded his ancestors, if 
 by laying the too great burthen on his weak shoulders, 
 they had not broken his back in the beginning. In 
 our next sketch we shall give an account of the gov- 
 ernment, rcbillion, and destruction of this tenth Earl 
 of Kildare, who, as we have before reported, went by 
 the name of Silicen Thomas. 
 
 THE BARDS OF IRELAND. 
 
 Ireland is doubtless preparing to rouse herself from the 
 lethargy of ages, and to snap asunder the bonds which have 
 hitherto bound her. A voice is is.suing from within the ne- 
 glected halls of her literature, which seems to say to licr in- 
 tellect and hcrgeniius, 'Sleep no morel ' Ere long, wctrii.st, 
 she will hold up her head amongtbe nations, and benraway 
 the prize in tlic strife of generous emulation. May the bles- 
 sed liod grant that these hopes will be realized. 
 
 The ancient Irish posses.scU ample stores in their native 
 language, capable olt-aplivatiii- the fancy, enlarging the 
 und"erstanding, and iinpi ..via- llie lioart. Our country .from 
 an early period, was tU.uniis lor the cultivation of tlic kind- 
 red arts of poetry and music. J.ll^'a(l, the son of Itli, is call- 
 ed in old writings, ' the llrsl |a>et ol Ir.-liu.d,' and there still 
 remains, after a lapse of three thousand year-, fragments of 
 his poetry. After him, but before the Christian era, flour- 
 ished Royne File, or the poetic, and Fei-ceirte, a bard and 
 herald. 
 
 ' Lugar and Congal lived about the time of our Redeemer, 
 and many of their works are extant. The Diun &anchas, 
 or history ot noted places in Ireland, compiled by Amergin 
 iMac Amuigaid, in the year- 544, relates that in the time of 
 Oide monarch of Ireland, ' the people deemed each other's 
 voices' sweeter than the waibliugs of a melodious harp, such 
 peace and concord reigned amongthem, that uo musrc could 
 dc'i"htthem more than tlie sound of each other's voice, 
 r. micr ( Tamil) was so calle<l from its celebi ily for melody, 
 above the palaces offbe world. Trrioi-YV, signifying me- 
 lody or sweet music, and miir a wall. rc-mi(r, the wall of 
 
 music' 
 
 This extract contains the earliest allusion to the Imr/', 
 which Mr. Uardimau has met with. There is an ancient 
 Cuelic poem wldch used to be sung in the llighlaiuls of 
 Scotland in which the poet addresses a very old harp, and 
 asks what has become of if 8 former lustre. The harp replies, 
 tliat it had belonged to a king of IrdamI, and had been pre- 
 sent at many a royal banquet | and had afterward been in 
 Ihe possesssion of Dargo, son of the druid ol Ii«al-of (Jaul 
 —of I'ilau, &o. &c. Such are a few facts regarding the 
 linrdsoflrelaiid before the inhabitants were converted to 
 the profession oftlie Christian faith. 
 
 The introduction of Christianity gave a new and more ex- 
 alted direction to the powers of poetry. Among the numer- 
 ous bards who dedicated their talents to the praitcs of the 
 Deitv. the most distinguished are Fcicli, the bishop; Amer- 
 gin, rinfa.lu, the learned, who revised the Uraic,pl,t, or-frl- 
 mer of the Bards,- preserved in the book of Balliinote. and 
 in the library of Trhiity College Uubliiii uud many others, 
 
 the nicnfinn of whose names might be tedious. Passing by 
 many illustrious tiardK,wlioFe poetic friignients are still pre- 
 served, we may mention Mac Lfag, secretary and biographer 
 of tlie famous monarch, Brian Boro, and whofc jioems on 
 flic death of his royal miiHter arc given in Mr. llaidiniau's 
 ' Irish Jlinsticlsy.' 
 
 For two centuries affcr the invasion of Ileni-y II, the 
 voice of the muse was but feebly heard in Iielimd. The 
 bards fell with llioir countiy, and like the captive Israelites 
 hung their untuned harps on the willows. They might ex 
 claim, with the royal psalmist, 
 
 ' Now while our harps were hanged soe, 
 The men, whose captives then we lay, 
 Did on our gricfi* insulting goc. 
 
 And more to grieve us thus did say, 
 You tliat of mnsiiiuc make such show, 
 
 Come sing us now a Sion lay ; 
 Oh no, we have nor voice nor hand, 
 Forsuch a song, in sucha land.' 
 But the spiiit of pafrofism at length aroused the bards from 
 their slumbers, and many men of genius started up through- 
 out Ireland. A splendid list of names could be giving, but 
 more names would not interest the reader. In fact, tho 
 language itself is so adapted for poetry, that it may almost 
 be said to make poets. Its pathetic powers have been long 
 celebrated. ^Ifymtpleailfor your life, plead iri Irislt,^ is a well 
 known adage. But we proceed to give a more detailed ac- 
 count of Caeolan. a bard whose name is familiar to every 
 Irishman, and the elegy upon whose death, by Mac Cabe, 
 we gave in our last number. 
 
 Turlogh O'Carolan was born about the year 1670, at n 
 place called Newton, near Nobber, in the county ofMeath. 
 Though gifted with natural geiiias for music and poetry, be 
 evinced no precocious disposition for either. He became a 
 minstrel by accident, and continued it more through choice 
 than necessity. Respectably descended, possessing no small 
 share of Milesian pride, and entertaining a due sense of his 
 additional claims as a man of genius, he was i\ho\e plaijhi^ 
 for /iiVe, and always expected, and imyiiably received, that 
 attention which he deserved, Ifis visits were regarded as 
 favors conferred, and his departure never failed to occa- 
 sion I'Cgrct. In his eighteenth year he was deprived of 
 sight by the small-pox; aud this apparently severe calamity 
 was the beginning of his career as one of the principal 
 bards of Ireland. 
 
 Near his father's house was a mote or rath, in the interior 
 of which one of the fairy queens, or 'good peoi)Ie,' was 
 believed by the country folks to hold her court. This mote 
 was the scene of man y a boyish pastime with his youfhlul 
 companions; and after he became blind, he used to prevail 
 ou some of bis family or neighbors to lead him to it. where 
 he would remain for hours together stretched listlessly be 
 fore tlic sun,* He was often observed to start up suddenly, 
 as it in a fit of csctacy, occasioned, as it was iiimly believed 
 by the preternatural sights which he witnessed. In one of 
 these raptures, he called hastily on his companions to leiul 
 him home, and when he reached it, he sat down iinniediatc- 
 ly to his harp, and in a little time played and sung the air 
 andwordsofa sweet song addressed to Bridget Cruise, 
 the object of liis eiirlii-st and fendercstatfachmcnt. So sud- 
 den and so e:iiili\ aliiig was it, that it was confidently attri- 
 buted to fail-)' iii.'iiiration, and to this day the place is poin- 
 ted out from which he desired to be led home. From that 
 hour he became a poet and a musician. 
 
 Though Carolna passed a wanderingand rosflcss life, there 
 is nothing on which we can lay our ttnger as very extn- 
 oidinary or singular. He seldom stirred out of the pro- 
 vince of Connaught, where he was such a universal fiivorile 
 that messengers were continually after him. inviting him to 
 one or other of the houses of the principal inhabitants, his 
 presence being regarded as an honor and a compliment. 
 The number ofliis musical pieces, to almost all of which bo 
 composed verses, is said to have exceeded two hundred. 
 But though bo was such a inn.ster of his native language, ho 
 was but indifferently acquainted with the English, of which 
 we will give the reader a specimen, remiudiug him, how- 
 ever, that though it may appear ludicrous to bini, it is the 
 composition of a man not unworthy of ranking with som<i 
 of the first poets of the past or present ago. A young lad; , 
 of the name of Featbersfone, who did not understand Irish, 
 being anxious to have some verses to his own fine air, tbo 
 ■ Devotion,' he gave her the following:— 
 
 'On a line Sunday morning devoted to be 
 Attentive to a sermon that was ordered for me, 
 I met a IVcsh rose on Ihe road by decree. 
 And though mass was my notion, my devotion waBj/;d 
 Welcome, fair lily, white and red, 
 Welcome was every word we said; 
 Welcome, bright angel of noble degree, 
 I wish you would love, and that I were with thee; 
 I pray don't frown at me with month or with eye,— 
 So I told the fair maiden, with heart full of glee, 
 Tho' the mass was my notion, my dcvotiou was sht.' 
 Although Corolan delivered himself but ii.dilfercntly in 
 
 •Moore in bis life of Byron, remarks that the noble poi:t 
 would lie fur hours together on the sca-bhure in a kiua of 
 costacy. 
 
36 
 
 IRISn .MISCELLANY. 
 
 Kugluh ho did not like to be corrvclwl for his solecisms. 
 A »ielf-.iumcioiit {;vutlvinan ufthrimiuf of O'Dowd, Dudy, 
 iw U U «uuK'tiiuu proiuitincfd, uiico UHkud him why ho nt- 
 temped a liiut^uugi' of which he kuewiiothiu;;. 'I know n 
 littlo of it,' Caroluu rvpled. ' If bo,' soys tlie other, ' wh»t 
 b the Enfcliith fur 6i"i'/t)t"i. (a fticHious Iritih term for the 
 sent of honor,) *Oh/ »»id tliebard, with nn nrch dmilo, 'I 
 think tUi: pioprresi Knglltth forBundoon Is i>i7/y Dud^\ ' Tlie 
 g«ntlemHU \\tx» ever known by the name of Buniloon Dutiy. 
 Carolau died in the year 1737, at Alderford, the house of 
 his old tiud never-fiuliug patronesii. Mm. Mo'Oormott. Fool- 
 ing his end Dpproncliiug, ho called for his hur])) and played 
 hi^ well knowu ' Farewell to Sluitic/ in a tilruin of tender- 
 uciu which drew tears IVom the eyes of his nuditory. His 
 luMt moments wore «pent in pmyor, nutil ho ciUmly brcath- 
 vdhisltiiit, at the u^e of about »ixty-«cven years. I'pwurds 
 ofiiixty oIerg>-mou of dilU'reutdcnominutions, a number of 
 gentlemen ttom the neighboring countiet^, and a votit con- 
 course of country jK'Ople, a^f;enlbIl■d to pay the last mark of 
 respect to tlu-tr favorite bard one whose doath caused a chu.*'m 
 In the bardic annuls of Ireland. Uut he lives in his own 
 deathless strains: and white the churnij uf melody Ixild 
 their sway over the human heart, the name of Cakolan 
 will be remembered and revered. 
 
 In an early number we will give the life of Thomas Fue- 
 X,ONO, the gifled tram^lator of Carolan'd remains, and ot 
 other ancient relics. AVc conclude our present article with 
 the following translation of a humorous reply which Taro- 
 )aa made to a gentleman who was presiding* him to prolong 
 bis stay at his house: 
 
 • If to a fi-iend's house thou sbouldst repair, 
 I'ause and take heed of lingering idly there; 
 Thou may'st be welcome, but .tis past a doubt, 
 Long visits soon will wear the welcome out.' 
 
 CABOLAN AKD BRIDGET CRUISE. 
 
 nr eAiiuEi. lover. 
 
 [ It is rclato<l of Carolan. the Irish bard, that when depriv- 
 ed of sight, and after the lapse of twt'uty years, he rt-co^iui- 
 2cd his first love by the touch of her hand. The lady's name 
 was Bridget Cruise; and though not a pretty name, it de- 
 serves to be recorded, as belonging to the woman who could 
 iuspire such a passion.] 
 
 * True love can ne'er forget; 
 Fondly as when we met, 
 Dearest, I love thee yet, 
 
 My darling one! ' 
 Thus sung a minstrel gay 
 His sweet impassion 'd lay, 
 Dowu by the ocean's spray 
 
 At set of sun; 
 But wither'd was the minstrel's sight, 
 Mom to him was dark as night, 
 Yet his heart was full of light; 
 
 As he thus bis lay begun. 
 
 * True love can ne'er forget ; 
 Fondly as when we met, 
 Dearest, I love thee yet, 
 
 My darling one! 
 
 * Long years are past and o'er, 
 Since from this fatal shore, 
 Cold hearts and cold winds boro 
 
 My love from me.' 
 Scarcely the minstrel spoke, 
 When quick, with flushing stroke, 
 A boat's light oar the silence broke 
 
 O'er the sea; 
 
 Soon upon her native strand 
 Doth a lovely lady land, 
 ■\Vith the minstrel's love-taught hand 
 Did o'er his wild harp run ; 
 
 * True love can ne'er forget; 
 Fondly as when we mot, 
 Dearest. I love thee yet, 
 
 My darling one! ' 
 Where the minstrel sat alone, 
 There, the lady fair hath gone, 
 AVithiu his hand she placed her own, 
 
 The bard dropp'd on his knee! 
 From his lips soft blessings came, 
 Jle kissed her hand with true.^t flume, 
 In trembling tones he named— Arr name, 
 
 Though he could not see; 
 But oh!— ilie touch the bard could tell 
 Of that dear hand, rememberd well, 
 Ah:— by many a secret spell 
 
 Can true love find her own I 
 For true love can ne'er forgot ; 
 Fondly as when they met; 
 He loved his lady yet, 
 
 His darling oue. 
 
 THE IRISH. 
 
 Aim Taleli, llie rersiuii traveller, whose reiniirks on 
 nntioiial olinractcrisiics me nenerully (listintjuishcd by 
 no siiiiiU ilij^ree of iliscriminaiion, is of opinion tliiit in 
 'l)nivery ami clctcrminiition, liospitnlity and prodigal- 
 ity, freedom of speceli and open-lieartcdness, the Irish 
 surpass the Kn};lish and Scotili, bnt are deficient iu 
 prudence and sound jiidjjment, though nevertheless 
 witty and quick of comprehension.' Their jj^reat na- 
 tional defect, ho allows, is 'excess in drinking,' of 
 whieli lie furnishes us with the following amusing in- 
 stance : 
 
 ' One cveninc that I dined in a large company, we 
 sat down to table at six o'clock. The masicr of the 
 house immediately commenced asking us to drink 
 wine, and under various pretences replenished our 
 glasses ; hut perceiving that I was backward in emp- 
 tying mine, he called for two water-glasses, and hav- 
 ing filled them with claret, insisttd upon my taking 
 one of them. After the table-cloth was removed, he 
 first drank the health of the king, then of the queen ; 
 after which he toasted a number of beautiful young 
 ladies, with whom I was acquninlcd, none of which I 
 dared to refuse. Thus the time passed till two o'clock 
 in the moniing ; and we had been sitting for eij-ht 
 hours ; he then called to the servants to bring a fresh 
 supply of wine Although I was so much intoxicated 
 that I could scarcely walk, yet on hearing this order, 
 I was so frightened, that I arose and requested per- 
 mission to retire. He said he was sorry I should 
 think of going away so soon ; that he wished I would 
 stay to supper, after which we might have a bottle or 
 two mora by ourselves ! I have heard from English- 
 men that the Irish, aftci" they get drunk at table, quar- 
 rel and kill each other in duels ; but I must declare 
 that I never saw them guilty of any rudeness, or of 
 the smallest impropriety.' 
 
 His present Majesty, when Duke of Clarence, being 
 on active service in the navy, once put his ship into 
 the Cove of Cork, and, as might be expected from a 
 spirit of hospitality, which will not suffer even ordina- 
 ry mortals to escape with impunity, his royal liighness 
 was in a few days put almost hors du ooiuhat. The 
 Irish wits were, nevertheless, pleased to say en the 
 occasion, that where he landed, they had only given 
 him the corA-; but had he gone to Dublin, they had 
 given him the bottle. 
 
 THE CLIMATE OF IRELAND 
 The moistncss of the Irish climate, as compared 
 with that of Britain, is the characteristic by which it 
 is most strongly marked. In consequence of its situa- 
 tion between England and the Atlantic ocean, Ireland 
 necessarily arrests in its progress the vast body of va- 
 por collected from that wiilc expanse of waters. Yet 
 the medium fall of rain in our country is less on the aver- 
 ago than that in most parts of England. It is 
 owing to aerial evaporation, rather than to the quanti- 
 ti/ oj rain, that the climate is so humid : but though it 
 is so damp and unstable, it is jet conducive to health 
 and longevity, while its mildness is also conducive to 
 the favorablo eultivatiou of the soil. 
 
 At what period In the history of the Jews did they resem- 
 ble SUIton chcosc > Ana. Uben they grew miticr and nii- 
 titr under Mordccai. 
 
 THE IRISH HIGHLANDS 
 Cunnemarra is a word which to English, and even 
 to Irish ears, is expressive of nothing but the ultima 
 Tliule of barbarism. Yet its signification is most poeti- 
 ciU — ' li,i)/s of the sea.' Towards the north-east extrem- 
 ity of the country of Galway there is a portion cut off as 
 it were, by a natural barrier of lakes and mountains. 
 If the map does justice to its subject, Cunnemarra 
 will appear black with mountains, dotted with hikes, 
 and studded with bogs ; its coast will be seen rugged 
 and indented with fine harbors, while the inland coun- 
 try, though wild, mountainous, and ill cultivated, and 
 so little known and visited, that its name is a proverb, 
 is yet equal to the finest parts of Wales orof Scotland, 
 and the traveller who ventures to enjoy its romantic 
 picturesque scenery, and who, from natural or acquir- 
 ed taste, can relish the ' lone majesty of untamed na- 
 ture,' may here have his feelings gratified to tlic full. 
 
 As a proof how little is known of this singular part of 
 In-land, it may be mentioned, that a magistrate in an 
 adjoining county, when he heard that a criminal had 
 been arrested who had long hid himself in the moun- 
 tain fastiiesaess of these Irish highlands, dechired that 
 ' the poor fellow had suffered cnoujih, in all conscience, 
 for any crime ho might have committed, by being ban- 
 ished seven years to Cunnemarra. 
 
 The inhabitants of this part of tho country are, of 
 coursebehind therestoflrehmd in knowledge and civil- 
 ization. But if the reader understands by this, that 
 they are larharians, and destitute of the feelings of 
 humanity, ho commils a very great mistake. Our Irish 
 highlaiiders tre a warm-hearted generous jieoplc, at- 
 tached to their wild mountains and romantic glens, and 
 considering the few advant:igcs which they enjoy, a 
 lively intelligent race. In the old times, their 'moun- 
 tain land' was the retreat of those daring spirits who 
 scorned to submit to the yoke of an invader; and here, 
 prcfeiring poverty and freedom to restraint and sub- 
 mission, they found a shelter amid the deep vallies and 
 craggy rocks, like the ancient Britons in Wales, and 
 the highlanders in Scotland. This was the region of 
 Grana Weal, orUtlle, the proud queenof llie west, who 
 paid a visit to the court of Queen Elizabeth. This 
 noble heroine ruled over the mountains of Cunnemar- 
 ra, and even the island on tho coast owned her sway. 
 Of her we will speak again, and give some anecdotes 
 of her daring and courageous charai-ter : but in this ar- 
 ticle we merely wish to introduce our readers to the 
 7n's/i highlands, assuring those of them who may bo 
 ignorant of the circumstance, that when in Cunnemar- 
 ra they are in the ' nearest jiarisli to America. 
 
 ALL SORTS. 
 
 A Climax. — A Yankee, boasting of a visit which 
 he had paid to the Queen, clinched, his remarks by de- 
 claring, ' I should have been invited to stay to dinner, 
 
 but it was Avashing day.' 
 
 An American woman recently appeared before a 
 Justice to complain of the ill-usage she received from 
 her husband. ' What pretext had he for beating you?' 
 inquired the Justice. ' Please, sir, he didn't have no 
 pretext ; it was a thick stick.' 
 
 ' What are you doing there, Jane V ' Why, pa, I'm 
 going to dye my doll's pinafore red.' 
 
 ' But what have you to dye it with ? ' ' Beer, pa.' 
 
 ' Beer I Who on earth told you that beer would dye 
 red ? ' 
 
 ' Why, ma told me yesterday that it was beer that 
 made your nose so red, and I thought that — ' 
 
 ' Here, Jane, take this child to bed ! ' 
 
 A young American lady in Paris threatens to sne 
 President Buchanan for breach of promise. She says 
 that, dining at her father's table, years ago, he said to 
 her, ' My dear miss, if ever I should be President, you 
 shall be mistress of the White House.' 
 
 REAnv Wn. — The Hartford Courrani says:— In our court 
 room,n woman was testifying; in behalf of horson, and swore 
 ' tliat lie had worked on a farm ever sntcc lie was bom.* 
 The lawyer who cross examined her said ' You assert that 
 your son has worked on a farm ever since he was born?* 
 • I do.' ' Wlint did he do the first year?' ' lit Milked.' The 
 lawyer evaporated. 
 
 .Sambo'8 Di.'iPUTK. — ' I tell you wat, Ceasnr, I had a 
 monstrous 'spate wid massa dis morning, down in de cot- 
 ton patch.' ' You don't ses so. C'cisar; wat you 'spate wid 
 inassa* ' • Yes. I tell you for one hour' wc 'spate togedder, 
 down in dc cotton patch.' 'Wa, wa, wat you 'sputc about?' 
 ' Why, you see Cesar, massa come down dar wliar 1 was 
 hoeiu, and massa he say squash ^row best on sandy ground 
 audi say so too ,- and dar we 'sputc about it for mor'n oue 
 hour: ' 
 
 EnwAKD Everett's SistekA Sistek of Cbarity-.— 
 The Kiclimond correspondent of the I'ctersburg (Va ) Ex- 
 press writes: 'It is not, perhaps, generally known that the 
 Hon. Edward Everett has a sister now performing the i-acred 
 dntics of a Sister of Charity :yct such is the fact, and she is 
 about to take the position of the Lady .Supeiior of St. Jo- 
 seph's Seminary iu this city. She will probably arrive near- 
 ly at the same lime with Mr. Everett, who is coming to de- 
 liver liii t'^ud oration, ou the character of Washington.' 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 37 
 
 TAKA'S HALL 
 In tlio library o( Triiiily College, Dublin, tliorc is preserv- 
 ed the Ihigiiicut of im niicicnt Irish MS. wliicli eontuinsa 
 description oi'tlio Bnnqueting Hull of SuiniirorTiini, which 
 is very curious. It states, tluit *The piilnee ol' Taniiir. 
 was formerly tlio seat of Con, of the hundred battles; it 
 was tlie seat of Art, and of Cuirbre Lilleachiu-, and of Cath- 
 or Mor, and of every king wlio ruled iu Taniar, to the time 
 ofXiall. 
 
 • In the reign of Cormac, the palace of Tamar was nine 
 liuudred feet square; the diameter of the surrounding mM, 
 seven r/iV, orcasts of a dart; it contained one hundred and 
 fitly apartments, one hundred and titty dormitorieSt or sleep- 
 ing rooms for guards, and sixty men in each ; the height 
 was twenty-seven cubits; there were one hundred and lifty 
 common drinking horns, twelve porches, twelve doors, and 
 one thousand guests daily, besides princes, orators, and men 
 of science," engravers of gold and silver, carvers modellers, 
 and nobles. 
 
 The eating hall liad twelve stalls,or divisions, in each wing, 
 tables & passages round them; sixteen attendants eacli side 
 eight to the astrologers, historians, and secretaries, in the 
 rear of the hall, and two to each table at the door; one 
 hundred guests in all ; two oxen, two sheep, and two hogs,at 
 each meal divided equally to each side.' 
 
 The quantities of meat and butter that were daily consu- 
 med here, surpasses all description; there were tweuty-seveu 
 kitchens, and nine cisterns for washing hands and feet, a 
 ceremony not dispensed with from the highest to the low- 
 est. 
 
 The harp that once through Tara's halls 
 
 The soul of music shed, 
 Is o\v hangs as mute on Tara's walls, 
 
 As if that soul were fled.— 
 So sleeps the pride of former days. 
 
 So glory's thiiil is o'er, 
 And hearts, that once beat high for praise, 
 Kow feel that pulse no more ! 
 
 No more to chiefs and ladies bright 
 
 The harp of Tara sw-eils; 
 The chord, alone, that breaks at night, 
 
 Its tale of ruin tells. 
 Thus Freedom now so seldom wakes, 
 
 The only throb she gives, 
 Is when some heart indignant breaks. 
 
 To shew that still she lives. 
 
 Moore^s Irish jMelodies. 
 
 GEOKGE FAULKKEE 
 
 When Foote was acting in Dublin, he introduced into one 
 of his pieces, called the Orators the character of (jeorge 
 Falkner, the celebrated printer, w^hose manners and dress 
 he so closely imitated, that the poor fellow could not ap- 
 pear in public, without meeting with the scolTs and jeers of 
 the very boys iu the streets. Enraged at the ridicule thus 
 brought upon him, Faulkner one evening treated to the 
 seat of the gods all the devils of the printing office, for the 
 express purpose of their hissing and hoofing Foote olTtlie 
 stage. Faulkner placed himselfin the pit, to enjoy the ac- 
 tor's degradation ; but when the objectionable scene came 
 on, the unfortunate printer was excessively chagrined to 
 find, that so far from a groan or a hiss being heard, his gal- 
 lery friends partook of the comical laugh. The next morn- 
 ing he arrainged his inky conclave, inveighed against them 
 for having neglected his injunctions, and on demanding 
 some reason for their treachery, was lacerated ten times 
 deeper by the simplicity of their answer: 'Arrah master,' 
 said the spokesman, ' do not be after tipping us your blar- 
 ney; do you think we did not know you? Sure 'twas your 
 own sweet selfthatwason the stage, and shower light upon 
 us, if we go to the playhouse to hiss our worthy master.' 
 
 Failing in this experiment, Faulkner commenced an ac- 
 tion against Foote, and got a verdict of damages to the a- 
 mount of three hundred pounds. This drove Foote back to 
 England, where he resumed his mimicry, and humorously 
 took otr the lawyei-8 on his trial, and the judges who bad 
 condemned him. 
 
 < ^»m- » 
 
 Ax Enoi.ish divorce Tragedy. — Some years since, 
 Lord Talbot was granted a divorce by the English House 
 of Lords; his wife a modest and unassuming woman, hav- 
 ing been charged with an amour with an illiterate groom. 
 The principal witness against her was the family clergyman, 
 the Uev. Mr. Sergeant, who swore he caught her in the act 
 of crime. This clergyman has just given himself up to the 
 authorities, confessing that he had peijured himself by con- 
 spiracy, and he had no reason to suspect the state of affaira 
 which he had sworn to. He is now almost insane from re- 
 morse. The prosecution of Lady Talbot made her a maniac, 
 andshedied without recovering her reason. Lord Talbot 
 married a woman who proved herself all he had charged 
 his lirst wile, and soon deserted him. He died horribly, in 
 the midst of his beastly orgies, with a company of degraded 
 women. Thus vengeance has overtaken all the parties to 
 this diabolical conspiracy. 
 
 GEOLOGY. 
 
 The meaning of llie word gcoloi/i/, or rather, tlio 
 meniiing of the science, as everybody knows, is an ac- 
 count of the carlli, describing its properties, telling the 
 iiaturo of tlie various substances wliich are emljowelled 
 in it. Tlicre is a geological socitt)' formed in Dublin, 
 but we are at present ignorant of wliat it is doing. 
 Now, most plain kind of people, who make no ])rc- 
 tensions to scientilic knowledge are scared from the 
 science of geology on account of the uncouth techni- 
 calities with which every thing relative to it is in- 
 vested. But it is a very interesting science. It leads 
 the mind into the deepest caverns of speculation, as 
 we pause and ponder over the mysterious things which 
 it brings to light. It is also a very young science. 
 We, of the present day, are but beginning our re- 
 searches into it, and generations must pass away he- 
 fore any certainty is attained upon tlic many tlieories 
 which have been propounded by geologists. Some, 
 for instance, have supposed that our world is of im- 
 mense age — that one revolution after another swept 
 away the various creatures which lived upon it — and 
 that new and different races succeeded each other in 
 tlie lease of this our ' mother earth.' Our readers will- 
 understand what is meant by a revolution, when we 
 tell them that the Veluge is counted one — that the 
 destruction by fire which revealed religion tells us 
 awaits the end of the world, is another revolution — 
 and that the chaos which preceded the creation was 
 but the consequence of a revolution which tore up the 
 surface ot the earth, and destroyed the creatures which 
 existed before man was created. Now all this is down- 
 right speculation, though it must be confessed that the 
 number of strange animals, whose fossile remains have 
 been dug up, and which have no analogy to any now 
 existing, is very extraordinary indeed. We pass these 
 speculations by in the meantime. 
 
 The city of Dublin is placed in a flat country, at the 
 distance of about three miles from the sea, and about 
 five miles to the north of a range of mountains, form- 
 ing the verge of an elevated district which extends 
 from thence for more than thirty miles to the south. 
 This district presents a very instructive field for geo- 
 logical examination. It is varied and interesting in 
 its characters, both in a scientific and commercial 
 point of view. Kor should ordinary readers think 
 that these matters do not concern (Af Hi. Scotland and 
 England have been vastly aided in their progress, and 
 are kept in their present position, by the uses to which 
 they convert the materials of the earth. What would 
 Birmingham, Glasgow, Wolverhampton, Sheftield, or 
 Newcastle be, but for the coal mines and iron ore in 
 the surrounding country ? The soul of British man- 
 ufactures and commerce, and consequently, the pros- 
 perity of the empire, hangs upon the employment of 
 these minerals — and Ireland might, from the richness 
 of her soil, become a great manufacturing country. 
 
 A Printers Toast. — Women — the fairest work of creation. 
 The edition being extensive, let no man be without a copy. 
 
 EARL OF DESMOND. 
 The castle of Mogeely, in Ireland, two miles from 
 Tallow, was a principal seat of the Desmond family. 
 At this castle resided Thomas, the great Earl of Des- 
 mond, who had a favorite steward that often took 
 great liberties wiih his lord, and by his permission, 
 tyrannized over the earl's tenants equally with his 
 master. The steward, unknown to the earl, gave an 
 invitation in his lord's name to a great numl>or of the 
 chiefs of Munstcr, with their followers, to come and 
 spend a month at this castle. The invitation was ac- 
 cepted, and crowds of gentlemen flocked in, to the 
 great surprise of Desmond, who began to be alarmed 
 lest suRicicnt provisions sliould not he found for such 
 a number of guests. They had not staid many days, 
 when provisions in reality began to fail ; and at last 
 the earl's domestics informed him that they could not 
 furnish out a dinner for the next day. The earl 
 knew not what to do, for his pride could not brook to 
 let his guests know any thing of the matter ; besides, 
 his favorite steward, who used to help him in such 
 difficulties, was absent. At length he ihouglit of a 
 stratagem to save his credit ; and inviting all his com- 
 
 pany to hunt next morning, ordered liis servants to 
 set fire to the castle as soon as they were gone, and 
 pretend it was done by accident. The carl and his 
 company hunted all the forenoon, and from the rising 
 grounds, ke every moment expected with a heavy 
 heart to see Mogeely iu flames. At length, about 
 dinner time, to his great surprise, his favorite steward 
 arrived, mounted upon a fresh horse. The earl threat- 
 ened him severely for being so long absent at such a 
 juncture. The steward told him he had arrived just 
 in time enough at the castle, to prevent his orders 
 from being executed, and farther, that he had brought a 
 large sup])ly of corn and cattle, sufficient to subsist him 
 and his company for some months. This news not a 
 little rejoiced the earl, who returned with his guests to 
 the castle, where they found sufficient plenty of every 
 thing they wanted. 
 
 LIMERICK CATHEDRAL BELLS. 
 
 Those evening bells — those evening bells — 
 How many a tale their ransic tells 
 Of youth and home — and that sweet time 
 When last I heard their soothing chime 
 
 The remarkable fine bells of Limerick cathedral 
 were originally brought from Italy ; they had been 
 manufactured by a young native,(whose name tradi- 
 tion has not preserved,) and finished after the toil of 
 many years, and he prided himself upon his work. 
 They were subsequently purchased by the prior of a 
 neighboring convent ; and with the profits of this sale 
 the young Italian procured a little villa, w'here he had 
 thepleasureof hearing the tolling of his bell from the 
 convent cliff, and of growing old in the bosom of do- 
 mestic happiness. This however was not to continue. 
 In some of those broils, whether civil or foreign, which 
 are the undying worm in the peace of a fallen land, 
 the good Italian Wiis a sufl'erer amongst many. He 
 lost his all; and after the passing of the storm, found 
 himself preserved alone amid the wreck of torttme, 
 friends, family, and home. 
 
 The convent in which the bells, the chef-d'aeuvre oth.\s 
 skill, were hung, was razed to the earth, and these 
 last carried away to another land. The unfortunate 
 owner, haunted by his memories, and deserted by his 
 hopes, became a wanderer over Europe. His hair grew 
 grey, and his heart withered, before lie again found a 
 home and a friend. In this desolate of spirit, he form- 
 med the resolution of seeking the place to which those 
 treasures of his memory had been finally borne. 
 
 He sailed for Ireland, proceeded up the Shannon ; 
 the vessel anchored in the pool near Limerick, and ha 
 hired a small boat for the purpose of landing. The 
 city was now before him ; and he beheld St. Mary's 
 steeple, lifting Its turreted head above the smoke and 
 mist of the old town. He sat in the stern, and looked 
 fondly towards it. It was an {vening so calm and 
 beautiful as to remind him of his own native haven in 
 the sweetest time of the year — the death of the spring. 
 
 The broad stream appeared like one smooth mirror, 
 and the little vessel glided through it with almost a 
 noi.seless expedition. On a sudden, amid the general 
 stillness, the bells tolled from the cathedral ; the rowers 
 rested on their oars, and the vessel went forward with 
 the impulse it had received. The old ItaUan looked 
 towards the city, crossed arms on his breast, and lay 
 back in his scat ; home, happiness, early recollections 
 fiiends, family— all were in the sound, and went with 
 it to his heart. When the rowers looked round, they 
 belield him with his face still turned towards the cathe- 
 dral, but his eyes were closod and when they landed— 
 ihcy found him cold ! 
 
 Many passionate men are extremely good natured, 
 and make amends for their extravagancies by their 
 candor and their eagerness to please those whom they 
 have injured during tlieir fits of anger. It is said that 
 the servants of Dean Swift used to throw themselves 
 in his way whenever he was in a passion, because they 
 knew that his generosity would recompense them for 
 standing the ffll fire of his anger.— £(/i/!tortA's Prac(t'- 
 cul Education. 
 
38 
 
 llllSIl MISCELLANY. 
 
 TUE LANDI.OHl) ANM) TENANT. 
 
 AS Al TIIKSTIO STORY. 
 [c<)XTINLl;l).| 
 
 Wlun »n In-li pcusnm is niliu'cil to pnnporism, he 
 leliloin ruiniiK'nc'i'S the uiL'Uiiiuhuly iHsk ur boliviiin;; 
 alnm in his iiiitivc place. 'J Uv Iriiil h ulwiivs n scvi-ri- 
 one, mill ho is nnxiuus to hide his .■•hiimc unci misery 
 from the ovis of those who liiiow him. This is one 
 reuson why s< ine sy.-tem of pour htws should he iii- 
 trvduei'd into the country. I'liupers of this descrip- 
 tion beeonie a burden upon 8lriuit:ers, whilst those 
 who are ciipalilc of enniint; with fiiendly synipHthy 
 inio their nii-lbrtHms have no oppoilunity of assist- 
 in;; ilu in. lujivd, this shame of seeking alms from 
 those who have known tlio mendicant in better days, 
 is n |>ruof that ilu absence of poor laws takes away 
 from I he poor ihissos one of the strongest incitements 
 toindus'iy; tor iiislance, if every pauper in Irehind 
 were eonlined to his own parish, and compelled to beg 
 from their own acquaintances, the sense of eliamc 
 alone would, hy stirring ihem up to greater industry, 
 reduce the number of mendicants one half. There is 
 a strong spirit of family pride in Ireland, which would 
 bo suflieicnt to make many poor, of both se.\cs, exert 
 themselves to the utmost rather than east a stain upon 
 their name, or bring a blush to the face of their rela- 
 tions. But now it is not so; the mendicant sets out 
 to beg, and in most instances commences his new 
 mode of lie in some distant ]iart of the country, where 
 his name and family arc not known. 
 
 Indeed, it is astonishing how any man can, for a 
 moment, hesitate to form his opinion upon the sub- 
 ject of poor laws. The Engli>h and Scotch gentry 
 know somcihing aliout the middle and lower classes 
 of their respective countries, and of course they 
 liave n fixed system of provi.-ion for the poor in 
 each. The ignoruncc of the Irish gentry, upon almost 
 every tnbjtct (onnectcd -with the real good of the 
 people, is only in keeping wiih tho ignorance of the 
 people themselves It is to be fcand, however, that 
 their disinclination to introduce poor laws arises less 
 from actual ignorance, than from an illiberal scllish- 
 ness. The facts of the case are these: — In Ireland 
 the whole support of the inconceivable multitude of 
 paupers, who swarm like locusts over the suif.ice of 
 the country, rests upon the middle and lower classes, 
 or rather upon the Ultir, for there is scaicely such a 
 thing in this unhappy country as a middle class. In 
 not one out of a thou.s.tnd instances do the gentry con- 
 tribute to the minilicant poor. In the (iist place, a 
 vast proportion of our landlords arc absentees, who 
 squander upun their own pleasures or > ices, in the 
 theatres, saloons, or gaming-houses of France, or in 
 the softer prolligucics of Italy, lb it nliieh ought to 
 return in sotue shape to stand in the place of dtiilcs so 
 shamefully neglected. These peisotis contribute noth- 
 ing to the poor, except the various evils which their 
 absence entails on them. 
 
 On the other hand, the reskkiil gentry never, in any 
 case, assist a beggar, even in the remote pans of the 
 country, where there are no Mendicity Institutions. 
 Kor do the beggars ever think of applying to them. 
 They know that his honor's dogs would be slipped at 
 them ; or that the whip might be laid, perlia|)s, to the 
 shoulders of a broken-hearted father, with his brood of 
 helpless children wanting food; pcrhajis, upon the 
 emaciated person of a miserable widow, who begs for 
 her orphans, only because the hands ihat supported, 
 and would have defended both her and them, are 
 mouldered into dust. 
 
 Upon the middle and lower clnss<8, therefore, comes 
 dirtcily the heavy burden of supporting the great mass 
 of pauperism that presses upon Inland. It is cert.tin 
 that the Iri li landlords know this, and that they are 
 reluctant to see any law enacted which might make 
 the performance of iheir duties to the poor compulso- 
 ry. This, indeed, is natural in men who have so in- 
 humanly neglected them. 
 
 But what must the state of a country be, where 
 those who are on the way to pauperi^m^Jiemselves are 
 cxc'u^ivcly burdened with the support of the vagrant 
 poor 1 It is like putting additional weight on a man 
 
 I n'reaily sinking under the burden ho hears. The 
 landloids siippi.se, that beeauso the mainiennnco of 
 ' the idle who arc able, and of the aged and intiini who 
 arc not able to work, comes upon the renters of land, 
 they lliemselvcs are exempted froiii tin ir support. 
 This, if true, is lus bitter a stigma upon tlnir liuinun- 
 iiy as upon (heir sense of justice ; but it is uot true. 
 Though the cost of supporting such an incnriible 
 number of the idle and helpless docs, in the first place 
 fall upon the tenant yet by dimiiii.shing his means, 
 and often compelling him to purchase, towards the 
 cud of the season a portion of food ii|tial to that 
 which ho has given away in cliaiity, it ccrtniiily be- 
 eomi'S ultimately a clear dcductitm from that land- 
 lord's rcnt. In cftlicr case it is a deduction, but in 
 the latter it is often doubly so ; inasn uch us tlio poor 
 tenants must frcr|ucntly pay, at the close of the sea- 
 son, dotililc, perhaps treble, the price which provision 
 brongbt at the bcgmning of it. 
 
 Any person conversant with the Irish people must 
 frequently have heard such dialogues as the following 
 during the application of a bcgt;nr for alms : — 
 
 Meiuliiant. — ' We're axin' your charity, for God's 
 sake !' 
 
 Poor Tenant. — ' AVhy, thin, for his sake you would 
 get it, poor crathnr, if we had it; but it's not for you 
 widin the four corners of the house. It 'nd be well for 
 us if we had noio all we gave away in charity rfio/n' 
 Ihc tcholeytar, we wouldn't be buyiii' for ourselves at 
 three prices. Why dont you go up to the big house ! 
 Thei/'re rich and can alt'ord it ' 
 
 Mendicant, with a shrug, which sets all his coats 
 and bags in motion — ' Och I och ! The big house, 
 inagh ! Musha, do y»u want me an' the cbilrihre 
 here, to be torn to pieces wid the doL'S ? or lushed wid 
 a whip by one o' the sarvints? No, no, avournecD !' 
 (with a hojielcss shake of the head.) ' That 'ud be a 
 blue look-up, like a dear evenin'.' 
 
 Poor Tenant — ' Then, indeed, we haven't it to help 
 you, now, jioor man. We're buyin' ourselves.' 
 
 Mendicant. — ' Thin, thruth, that's lucky, so it is ! 
 I've as purty a grain o' male here, as you'd wish to 
 thicken watlicr wid, that I sthruv to get together, in 
 hopes to be able to buy a quarlhcr o' tobaccy, along 
 w:d a pair o' new bades an' a scupular for myself. 
 I'm suspicious that there's about a stone ov it alto- 
 gether. You can have it anunder the market price, 
 for I'm fretting at not havin' the scapular an me. 
 Sure the Lord will sind me and' the ehiidhte a bit an' 
 sup some way else — glory to his name! — besides a 
 lock o' praties in the corner o' the bag here, that'll do 
 us for this day, any way.' 
 
 The bargain is immediately struck, and the poor 
 tenant is glud to purchase, even from a beggar, his 
 stone of meal in ccinsequeiice of getting it a few pence 
 under market price. Such scenes as this, which are 
 iif frequent occurrence in the country parts of Ireland, 
 need no comment. 
 
 This, certainly, is not a state of things which should 
 be permitteil to exist. Every man ought to be com- 
 pelled to support the poor of his native parish accord- 
 ing to his means. It is an indelible disgrace to the 
 legislature so long to have neglected the jjaupers of 
 Ireland. Is it to be thought of with common patience 
 that a person rolling in wealth shall feed upon his 
 turtle, his venison, and his costly lu.xuries of every de- 
 scription, for which ho will not scruple to pay the 
 highest price — that this heartless and selfish man, 
 whether he reside at home or abroad, shall thus un- 
 conscionably pamper himself with viands ]nirebased 
 by the toil of tnc people, and yet not contribute to 
 assist them, when poverty, sickne.'s, or age, throws 
 them upon the scanty su]>port of casual charily ! 
 
 Shall this man be permitted to batten in lu.xury in 
 a foreign land or at home; to wliip our paupers from 
 Ills carriage ; or liuut ihem, like beasts of prey, from 
 his grounds, whilst the lower classes — the gradually 
 tieeajing poor — are compelled to groan under the 
 burden of their support in addition to their other bur- 
 dens ? Surely it is not a question which admits of 
 argument. This subject has been darkened and made 
 difficult by fine-spun and unintelligible theories, when 
 
 the only knowledge necessary to understand it, rony be 
 gained by spending a few weeks in some poor village 
 in the inteiior of the eounlry. As for I'urlianuntnry 
 Committees upon this or any other .subject, they arc, 
 with reverence he it spoken, thoroughly coiitenipiiblc. 
 They will summon and examine witnesses who, for 
 the most ))art, know little about the habits or dis- 
 tresses of the poor; pulilic money will be wasted in 
 defraying their expensi»^nd in printing reports ; res-*" 
 oluiions will be passed ; something will be said about 
 it in the House of Commons ; and, in a few weeks, 
 after resolving and rc-resol\ ing, it is us little thought 
 of, as if it had never been the subject of investigalion. 
 In the meantime the evil proceeds — becomes more in- 
 veterate — cats into Ihc already declining prosperity of 
 the country — whilst those who sutler under it have the 
 consolation of knowing that a Parliamentary Commit- 
 tee sit long'ir upon it than so many geese upon their 
 Cf.'gs, but hati lied nothing. Two circuin'tnnces, con- 
 nected with pauperism in Ireland, are worthy of m^- 
 tice. The first is this — the Koman Catholics, who 
 certainly constitute the bulk of the population, feel 
 themselves called upon, from the peculiar tenets of 
 their religion, to exercise indiscriminate charity large- 
 ly to the begging poor. 
 
 The second point, in connexion with pauperism, is 
 the immoral influence that proceeds from the relation 
 in wliieh the begging poor in Ireland stand towards 
 the class by whom they are supported. These, as we 
 have already sairl, arc the poorest, least educated, and 
 consequently the most ignorant description of the peo- 
 ple. They are, also, the most numerous. There 
 have been for centuries, probably since the Reforma- 
 tion itself, certain opinions floating among the lower 
 classes in Ireland, all tinding to jircpare them for 
 some great change in their favor, arising from the dis- 
 comfiture of heresy, 'he overihiow of their enemies, 
 and the exaltation of themselves and their religion. 
 
 Scarcely had the public mind subsided after the Re- 
 bellion of Ninety-eight, when the success of Bonaparte 
 directed the eyes and the hopes of the Irish piople 
 towards //(';«, as the person designed to be their deliv- 
 erer. Many a lino fiction has the author of this work 
 heard about that great man's escapes, concerning the 
 bullets that conveniently turned aside from his person, 
 and the sabres that civilly declined to cut him down. 
 Many prophecies, too, were related, in which the glory 
 of this country under his reign was touched off in the 
 happiest colors. Pastorini also gave such notions an 
 impulse. Eighteen twenty-five was to be the year of 
 their deliverance ; George the I'ourih was never to fill 
 the British throne, and the mill of Eowth was to be 
 turned three litiics with human blood. 'The miller 
 with the two thumbs was then living,' said the mendi- 
 cants, fur they were the |>riiicipal propagators of these 
 opinions, and the great exjioundErs of their own 
 ])rophecies, so that of course there could be no further 
 doubt upon the subject. Several of thcni had seen 
 him — a red-haired man, with broad shoulders, stout 
 legs, exactly as a miller ought to have, and two 
 thumbs on his right hand ; all precisely as the jiropli- 
 ecy had stated. Then there was Bml-<lfrg, and sev- 
 eral others of the fierce old Milesian chiefs, who along 
 with their armies, lay in an enchanted sleep, all ready 
 to awake and take a part in the delivery of the coun- 
 try. ' Such a man,' .tnd they would name one in the 
 time of the raendii'ant's grandfather, 'was once going 
 to a fair to sell a horse — well and good ; the time was 
 the dawn of morning, a little before daylight ; he met 
 a man who undertook to purchase his hoisc; they 
 agiced upon the price, and the seller of him followed 
 the buyer into a Rath, where he found a range of 
 horses, each with an armed soldier asleep by his side, 
 ready to spring upon him if he awoke. The pur- 
 chaser cautioned the owner of the horse as they were 
 about to enter the subterraneous dwelling, against 
 touching either horse or man; but the countryman 
 happening to stumble, inadvertantly laid his hand 
 U]ion a slccjiing soldier, who immediately Icfipcd up, 
 drew his sword, and asked, ' W'uil unani in/i !' ' Is the 
 time in it? Is the time arrived?' To which the 
 horse-dealer of the Rath replied, ' Ha niel. (Jho dhee 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 39 
 
 collhow areesht.' ' No ; go to sleep Hgain.' Upon this 
 the soldier immediate ly sank down in his former posi- 
 tion, and nnbioken sleep reiijned tlirousliout the cuvo. 
 The inlluenee of tlie warm imn};ininions of an ignorant 
 people, of snch tii'tions concoeted liy vagrant mendi- 
 cants, is very pcrnieious. They fill their minds with 
 the most palpable absurdities, and, what is worse, 
 witli opinions, which beside bein;; injurions to those 
 who receive them, in every ip«t:\nec insure for those 
 who propagate them a eonllnl and kind reception. 
 
 These mendieanls conseciuenlly pander, for their 
 now selfish ends, to the prejudices of the igno- 
 rant, which they nonrish and draw out in a manner 
 that has no slij^ht dctrree been subversive of tlio peace 
 of the country. Scaieely any political circumstance 
 occurs which they do not immediately seize upon and 
 twist to their own purposes, or in other words, to the 
 opinions of those from whom they derive their support. 
 AVlicn our present police first appeared in their uni- 
 forms and black belts, another prophecy, forsooth was 
 fullilled. Immediatirly befin'e the downfall of heresy, 
 a body of ' Black Militia,' was to appear ; the police, 
 then, are the black militia, and the people consider 
 themselves another step nearer the consummation of 
 their vague speculations. 
 
 In the year ninety-eight, the Irish mendicants were 
 active agents, clever spies, and expert messengers on 
 the part of the people; and to this day they carry 
 falsehood, and the materials of outrage in its worst 
 shape, into the bosom of peaceable families, who would 
 otherwise, never become connected with a system 
 which is calculated to being ruin and destiuction upon 
 those who permit thetnselves to join it. 
 
 This evil, and it is no trifling one, would, by the 
 introduction of poor laws, be titterly abolished ; tlie 
 people would not only be more easily improved, but 
 education, when received, would not be corrupted by 
 the infusion into it of such ingredients as the above. 
 In many other points of view, the confirmed and 
 hackneyed mendicants of Ireland area great evil to 
 the morals of the people. We could easily detail them 
 but such not being our object at present, we will now 
 dismiss the subject of jjoor-laws, and resume our 
 narrative. 
 
 Far — far different from this description of impostors, 
 were Owen McCarthy and his family. Their misfor- 
 tunes were not the consequences of negligence or mis- 
 conduct on their part. They struggled long but nn- 
 availingly against high rents and low maikels; against 
 neglect on the part of the landlord and his agent; 
 against sickness, famine, and deatli. They had no al- 
 ternative but to beg or starve. Owen was willing to 
 work, but he could not procure employment : and 
 provided he could, the mijcrahle sum of sixpence a 
 day, when food was scarce and clear, would not sup- 
 port him, his wife, and six litilc ones. lie became 
 a pauper, thereforej only to avoid starvation. 
 
 Heavy and black was his heart, to use the strong 
 expression of the people, on the hitter morning when 
 he set out to encounter the dismal task of seeking 
 alms, in order to keep life in himself and his family. 
 The plan was devised on the preceding night, but to 
 no mortal, except his wife, was it communicated. The 
 honest pride of a man whose mind was above commit- 
 ting a mean action, would not permit him to reveal 
 what he considered tlie first stain that ever wai known 
 to rest upon the name of McCarthy ; he therefore sal- 
 lied out under the beating of the storm, and proceed- 
 ed, without caring much whither he went, until he got 
 considerably beyond the bounds of his own parish. 
 
 In the meantime hunger pressed keenly upon him 
 and them. The day had no appearance of clearing up; 
 the heavy rain and sleet beat into tlieir thin, worn gar- 
 ments, and the clamor of his children for food began 
 to grow more and more importunate. They came to 
 the slieltcr of a hedge, which inclosed on one side a 
 remote and broken road, along which, in order to avoid 
 the risk of being recognised, ihey had prcfen-ed trav- 
 elling. Owen stood here for a few minutes to consult 
 with his wife, as to where .ind when they shoul I ' make 
 a beginning;' but on looking round, he found her in 
 tears. 
 
 ' Kathleen, asthore, said ho, "I can't bid you not 
 to cry; hear up, acushia macree; bear up; sure, as I 
 said when we cnmo out this mornin', there's a good 
 God above ns. that can still turn over the good hife 
 for ns, if we put our hopes in him." 
 
 'Owen,' said his sinking wife, 'it's rot altogether 
 liekase we're brought to this that I'm cryin' ; no, in- 
 deed.' 
 
 ' Thin what ails you, Kathleen, darlin' '; ' 
 The wife hesitated, and evaded tlie question for some 
 time ; but at length, upon his pressing her for an an- 
 swer, with afresh gush of sorrow, slie rc]ilicd, ' Owen, 
 since you must know — oeh, may God pity us ! — since 
 you must know, it's wid hunger — wid liunger ! I kept 
 unknownst, a little bit of bread to give the childhre 
 this mornin', and that was part of it tliat I gave you 
 yesterday early — I'm near two days fastin' ' 
 
 'Kathleen! Kathleen! Gch! sure I know your worth 
 avillish. You were too good a wife, and too good 
 a mother, a'most ! God forgive me, Katlileen ! I fret- 
 ted about beginnin', dear ; but as my Heavenly Fath- 
 er's above me, I'm now happier to beg wid you by my 
 side, nor if I war in the best house in the province wid- 
 outyou! Hould up, avourneen, for a while. Come 
 on childhre, darlins, an' the first house we meet we'll 
 
 ax their char , their assistance. Come on, darlins, 
 
 and all of yees. Why my heart's asier, so it is. Sure 
 we have your mother, childhre, safe wid us, an' what 
 sittnifics anything so long as she's left to us ? ' 
 
 He then raised his wife tenderly, for she had been 
 compelled to sit from weakness, and they bent their 
 steps to a decent farm-house that stood a few perches 
 off the road, about a quarter of a mile before them. 
 
 As they approached the door, the husband hesitated 
 a moment; his face got paler than usual, and his lip 
 quivered as he said — 'Kathleen — " 
 
 ' I know what 3'ou 're going to say, Owen. No, 
 acushia, you won't : I 'II ax it myself.' 
 
 'Do,' said Owen, with difficulty ; 'I can't do it; 
 hut 1 'II overcome my pride afore long, I hope. It 's 
 thryin' to me, Kathleen, an' you know it is — for you 
 know bow little I ever expected to be brouglit to 
 this." 
 
 ' Husht, avillish ! We'll thry, then, in the name of 
 God. 
 
 As she spoke, the children, herself, and her husband 
 entered, to beg for the first time in their lives, a morsel 
 of food. Yes! timidly— with a blush of shame, red 
 even to crimson, npon the pallid fi atnres of Kathleen 
 — witli grief acute and jiiercing — they entered the 
 the house together. 
 
 For some minutes they stood and spoke not. The 
 unhajipy woman, unaccustomed to the language of 
 supplication, scarcch' knew in what terms to crave as- 
 sistance. Owen himself stood back, uncovered, his 
 fine, hut much changed features, overcast with an ex- 
 pression of deep affliction. Kathleen cast a single 
 glance at him, as if for eneounigement. Their eyes 
 met ; she saw the upright man — the last remnant of 
 tlie McCarthy — liimself once the friend of the poor, of 
 the unhappy, of the nfHictcd — standing crushed and 
 broken down by misfortunes which he had not deserv- 
 ed, waiting with patience for a morsel of charity. — 
 Owen, too, had his remembrances. He recollected the 
 days when he sought and gained tlie ]nire and fond 
 affections of his Kathleen ; when beauty, and youth, 
 and innocence encircled her with their light and their 
 grace, as she spoke or moved; he saw her a happy wife 
 and mother in her own home, kind and benevolent to 
 all who required her good word or her good ofticc, 
 and remembered the sweetness of her light-hearted 
 song - but now she was homeless. He remembered, 
 too, how she used to plead with himself for the nfllict- 
 ed. It was but a moment ; yet wlicn their eyes met, 
 tliat moment was crowded by recollections that flaslicd 
 across their minds with a keen sense of a lot so bitter 
 and wretched as theirs. Kathleen conhl notsj)cak, al- 
 though she tried ; her sobs denied her utterance, and 
 (Jwen involuntarily sat upon a chair, and covered his 
 face with his hand. 
 
 To an observing eye it is never difTRcnlt to detect 
 the cant of imposture, or to perceive distress when it is 
 
 real. The good woman of the house, as is usual ia 
 Ireland, was in the act of approaching tliem, unsolici- 
 ted, with a double handful of meal — that is wliat (lie 
 Scotch and nonlieru ln>h call a gowpcn, or as much 
 as both hands lockid together can contain — when, no- 
 ticing their distress, she paused a momsnt, eyed them 
 more closely, and exclaimed — 
 
 ' What's this .' Why there's something wrong wid 
 you, good people ! But first and foremost take this, in 
 the name an' honor of God.' 
 
 "May the blessin' of the same Man* rest upon 
 yees !' replied Kathleen. ' This is a sorrowful thrial 
 to us ; for it's our first day to be upon tlie world ; an' 
 this is the first help of the kind we ever axed for, or 
 ever got ; an' indeed now I find we haven't even a 
 place to carry it in. I've no — b — b — cloth, or any- 
 thing to hould it.' 
 
 'lour first, is it?' said the good woman. 'Your 
 first ! May the niarciful queen of heaven look down 
 upon yees, but it's a bitther day yees war driven out 
 in ! Sit down, there, you poor eraihur. God pity 
 you, I pray, this day, for you have a heart-broken 
 look ! Sit down awhile, near the fire, you an' the 
 childhre ! Come over, darlins, an' warm yourselves. 
 Och, oh ! but it's .1 thousand pities to see sich fine 
 childhre — handsome an' good lookin'even as they are, 
 brought to this ! Come over, good man ; get near 
 the fire, for you're wet and could all of ye. Brian, 
 ludher them two lazy thieves 0' dogs out o' that. 
 Eiree suas, a imdhee bradagh, agas go ma a shin ! — be 
 off wid yes, ye lazy divils, that's not worth your feed- 
 in' ! Come over, honest man.' 
 
 Owen and his family were placed near the fire ; the 
 poor man's heart was full, and he sighed heavily. 
 
 TO BE CONTINUED. 
 
 * Got! is sometimes thus termed in Ireland. Bj' the 
 ' Jlan' here is meant person or being. He is also called the 
 ' Man above,' although this must have been intended lor, 
 and often is applied to, Christ only. 
 
 That 
 
 Then fli 
 
 And: 
 
 IKISH MIBTSTKEIiSX. 
 
 THE EAGLE. 
 to be free, like the eagle of heaven. 
 
 irs over valley and mountain all day, 
 to the rock which the tbuudor hafli riven, 
 rses her young with the fresh Weeding prey ! 
 Ko arrow can fly 
 To ber eyrie on high, 
 No net of the fowler her wings can ensnare; 
 The merle and thrush 
 May live in the bush. 
 But the eagle's domain is as wide as the air! 
 
 O to be fleet, like the stag of the mountaiu. 
 
 That starts when the twilight has gilded the morn ; 
 
 He feeds in the forest, and drinks from the fountain. 
 
 And bears from the thicket the sound of the horu; 
 
 Then forward lie bounds, 
 
 "While horses and bounds 
 EoUow fast with their loud-sounding yell and balloo ; 
 
 The goats and the sheep 
 
 Their pasture may keep. 
 But the stag bounds afar wheu the hunters pursue. 
 
 O to be strong like the oaks of the forest. 
 
 That wave their green tops while the breezes blow high, 
 And never are fell'd till they're wounded the sorest- 
 Then they throw down their saplings, when falling to die, 
 
 Tbc shrubs and flowers, 
 
 In gardens and bowers. 
 May sicken, wlicn mildew has taiuted the field ; 
 
 But the oaks ever stand. 
 
 As the pride of our land. 
 And to none but the arm of the lightning ivill yield. 
 
 Then, free in the world as the far-soaring eagle. 
 
 And swift as the stag, when at morning awoke. 
 
 Let us laugh at the cha.se of the bound aud bciglc,— 
 
 Be sturdy and strong as the wide-spreading oak; 
 
 And we'll tiualfwiue and ale 
 
 From goblet and pail, 
 And we'll drink to the health of our comrades so dear; 
 
 Aud, like merry, merry men, 
 
 We'll fill up again ; 
 And thus live without sorrow, and die wifliouf fear. 
 
 Prentice says that the fault with the female Yankee 
 teachers who go westward, is that instead of teaching 
 other people's children, they soon got to teaching their 
 own. 
 
40 
 
 IKISII .MIS( KLLANV. 
 
 BLACK-KOCK CASTLE. 
 The Ciisili- of the Rlack-Rock was first hnilt by the 
 I.rrl MounijoT, in the liCL'inniiifj of kill;; James First's 
 reign, whiMi the tort of Ilallhoiilinij; was erected, for 
 the defi'nce of the harbor. In the year 1722, the city 
 cxpenilcd the sum of .£2'JC upon this tower, ami made 
 a very haiid.-ome oi t tr"" roc^m in it, from wlience is a 
 delightful pros|iee'. of the harbor from Passage to Cork. 
 In it the mayors of Coik hold an admiralty court, be- 
 ing by several charters appointed admirals of ihe har- 
 bor, which in iheycar ICJ" was contested w'th tliera, 
 by one Kdnard Champion for the Lord Bnrry. On 
 
 BLACK-ROCK CASTLE, NEAR CORK. 
 
 [ liL'liifiil art, if an art it can be fnirly called, for my con- idable hope he had entertained of being able to master 
 ietion is, that all can swim if they plca.se, and all that the billow* — 
 
 is necessary is a little courage and some practice. It 
 is a subject that challenges attention from the number 
 of accidents which occur, and the many valuable lives 
 that arc lost, in consequence of the incapability to swim, 
 which is too general. The idea of rhe necessity of be- 
 ing able to swim has never h ft me — 
 
 ' For I hiivc loved thee occsn I and my iov 
 Of youthful sports was on thy breast to be.' 
 
 And it was with great pleasure I lately learn'd that 
 
 it'ina snriftii's arc now common on the Continent. 
 
 the 1st of Augitsi, It is u-ual for the mavor and cortK- j .1 .' . t> • i j- . <• .1 
 
 " ' ■ " 1 ^ and that at Pans there a'C commodious parts or the 
 
 Seine railed in wh'TC regular professors attend to give 
 instruction and encottniging example, at a trilling ex- 
 pense. It is surprising that this noble art. or f/f"!, is 
 in Ireland, either entirely neglected, or acquind only 
 by chance. 
 
 Swimming is so salutary and deligh'fiil an exercise, 
 so conducive to h'-aMi and cleanliness, that it is aslon 
 
 ration to have a pablic entertahiraenlhcruai thceliurge 
 of the city. 
 
 Nor ought we to forget a neat garden and improve 
 mcnt of Mr. Daniel Vor.>ter, with fountains, statues 
 and canals, and a pretty house seated on a hill half j 
 mile from the city, (on the north side, opposite Black- 
 rock), having a prospect of Coik, the harbor and adja- 
 
 cent counlrv. Mr. Vortter settled several years ago ' . , . -.in . i- . 1 j r j- 
 
 . „ , , .„ . I isliing it should meet so little regard, for according to 
 
 in Cork, being by binh a Dutcljinan ; many of the ,1, , 
 
 mcrrhanif of the ciiy have been educated by him in 
 wriiing, arithmetic, und the most regular method of 
 bookkeeping, and several of them, formerly scholars 
 to Mr. Vorsler, were so sensible of his worth, thatthoy 
 pave him an nnnunl public enlertainmeiit in the coun 
 
 ' To IiE.nt the surges under him, 
 
 And ride u]ion their hacks ' 
 "nch conduct to young adventurers is unmanly — let 
 us hope it may be discontinued, ihnt those who swim 
 well, will no longer with churli-h indifterenee neglect, 
 or by brutal conduct repress, the ardor with which boys 
 general y atleiiijil to .swim, but rather sooth them with 
 hope, inspire them with confidence, and encourage . 
 them by example. 
 
 I submit these hints with the utmost humility to all, ^ 
 hut (s|jccially to f.iibers, and those who have Ihe earo , 
 of you;h: some perhaps may be induced to second my J 
 views, and favor .society with further and more intcres- 1 
 ling observations on the subject. Swimming is sure- 7 
 ly as necessary an accotnplisbment as dancing. Ij ho , 
 ilic most worthy of our admiration ard applause, the 
 hoy ' who hlijliesl lifts Ills /wels,' or the dauntless spirit, ' 
 who with cheerful confidence, leaps into the fathom- , 
 less deep, and rescues from dtiath his drowning bro- 
 ther! W. K. 
 
 ' From the body's purity, Ihe mind 
 Receives a secret sympathetic aid.' 
 Few cities in Europe arc .so delightfully situated as 
 Dublin — romantically heanliful on every side, and so 
 cil-cbamlH-r of the eity : a laudable practice, and an- '^"'"'P"""" '" ''"^ •'''^* — it offers local nctommodations 
 cienilv followed by the old Gtteks and Romans to ! ""''»•'»'""«=;<''''■'"•'''« Practice of this most desirable ""'' ''"^ '"'"»'''"'"'* '" """J" instances, conduct their 
 ticir greatest master!. art and recrca'ion. ''"'« s''ipping connexions through the medium of the 
 
 On the north side of the river the banks are high, ' I( might be instniclivc, at least amusing to vour ju- ['""Si'sgc common to both parties. There is, in short 
 and in some pla.es inaccessible, composed of a mellow ^<^"''c readers to give some account of swim mi'ng gen- | ■"'"'' «''*'»'" <lilV<-rence between the vernacular dialects 
 clay, over a slatv rock of various colors, some rcd,oth- 1 crally. It is perhaps coeval with the creation, and j"'''"" ccun"fs '» England, and they have greater dif- 
 ers of a deep purple and sky color, used for building. , pmctised in all nations, hut certainly in greater perfec- i ''<^"''^' '" "tderstanding each other, than an Irishman 
 
 ., .s._^ lion in barbarous, than in more civilized society — pco- 
 
 SWIMMING. i P'" '" * savage state acquire it from imilaiing the 
 
 brute creation, and their native boldne.ss and intrepidi- 
 ty secures their success ; for nothing retards the pro- 
 
 'Tlils is the purest excrckc oflicnlth, 
 Tlie kind rcftcsherortlie Summer lieaU: 
 Thus life redoubles, and i^ ojl prmrri-'J 
 Bytlic bold snimmer in the swift elapse 
 Ul accidcutc di^adrous.'— TuoiiEox. 
 To the Editor oflh'. LhJjlin Pinny Juiimal. 
 
 THE GAELIC AND IHISII DIALECTS. 
 These dialects arc much more closely allied to each 
 other than either the WeMi or the Manks. The words 
 arc almost the same, the stru'Mure evcrv wav similar. 
 
 and a Highbinder. 
 
 C U R R A N . 
 
 Mr. Cnrran was once asked, what an Irish gentle- 
 
 Igress of ihe learner so much as fear; the dread of i"*""' •'"''."""'•■'^ '" ^"g'"'"'- could mean by perpet- 
 
 . drowning, and the terror which nalurnlly accompanies i>'»"y P"'''ne 0"l liis tongue. ' I suppose,' replied the 
 
 him in a strnnge and dangerous eliment: yet these i"''' ' ^^'s trying to c«/cA t/ic iii.yisA a;e<ii«.' 
 
 ! fears which it should bo a pleasurable duty to remove, 1 The lazy, the dissipated, and the feaiful, should 
 
 Sir— When I was a hoy, I was enthusiistic on the arc too often kept alive and augmented by the cruel or ! patiently see the active and cold pass by them' in their 
 
 subject of the necessity of being able to swim; and I re- unthinking adept, with «hom it is sport to alarm the course. They must bring down iheir pretensions to 
 
 member forming a little club of boys of similar feelings, lyro, to plunge him into horrors indescribable, and the level of their talents. Those who have not energy 
 
 or who aimed at perfection in this most useful and dc- thus to make him for ever resign with disgust, the lau- jto work must learn to be humble.— 5/iarpe's Essays. 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 41 
 
 IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 BOSTON, SAXaiiDAY, FEBRUARY 27, 1858. 
 
 ANSWEKS TO COKRESrONDENTS. 
 
 Since the tir^t publication of the prospectus of tlie Miscel- 
 lainj^ V.C Imvc bt-cn utmost deluged by lelteis of kiudcncour- 
 a.iiroment, promises of geuerous support, -with 6o»a ^^//c lielp 
 ft-om flneuds, iu the sbnpc of good dollar bills. We cannot 
 reply to each of these, but must content ourselves by thus 
 assuring them that we feci deeply gralitied with their kind- 
 nesses, and shall endeavor to make the Miscdlany all they 
 hope of it. 
 
 We cannot take notice of any communications intended 
 for insertion which is written on both sides of the paper.— 
 Ko correspondent thus writing can even expect to have his 
 paper read. 
 
 No manuscript sent for publication will be returned — 
 whether inserted or not. 
 
 *Rev. Francis STROKEii,'3Iineral Point, "Wisconsin. We 
 have done as you desired without any inquiry, and witb 
 pleasure. 
 
 ' John Sherideis-.'— We regret that you have wasted so 
 much time on a manuscript which does not possess the mer- 
 it you seem to think. For your kindness accept our thanks. 
 
 'I.S.*— The 'poem' you send us addressed to 'JIary,' 
 heaven bless her, beginning with the line — 
 ' I'm sitting all alone, 3Iary,' 
 is so evident an imitation, and such a poor one, too, that if 
 we piiblished it, you would wish you had continued to 'sit 
 alone,^ without calling upon the exquisite Mary to join you. 
 
 'A Slight Tribute to Ireland.'— Does not come up to 
 our poetic standard. 
 
 ' Patricius,' Montpelier, Yt.— We are much indebted to 
 you. The tale is under consideration. 
 
 ' Red Hugh.' Yes. If it be w^hat you say it is, send it 
 along and it shall have insertion. 
 
 ' Silken Thomas ' — We cannot insert your ' Essay upon 
 the Wrongs of Ireland.' It is time such stuff was given up. 
 These wrongs are too old, and too deeply engraven upon the 
 Irish mind ever to be erased— ever to be forgiven. We want 
 no school-boy orations upon them. We mut-t here, and else- 
 where, assume a more bold and manly tone, if we wish the 
 respect of others. 
 
 ' Passim.'— We have received a communication over this 
 signature, unaccompanied by the writer's name. Now we 
 beg to say, that in future, we shall take no notice of any 
 communication intended for insertion, unless the writer 
 places bis name, in confidence, in our hands. 
 
 BUSINESS NOTICES. 
 
 We Employ no Canvassing Agents, and caution our 
 friends not to iiay their subscriptions to any person represent- 
 ing himself as such. The best and safest way for those de- 
 sirous of obtaining our paper regularly, is to forward their 
 subscription direct to the publishers, or procure it weekly at 
 any new^s-venders store. 
 
 Ol'R Terms, are as in our prospectus, payment in advance. 
 From this we cannot vary. 
 
 WeUaveSent thefir.«^t three numbers of our paper as 
 epeciincns by mail, to many of our friends who sent us 
 poM age stamps. If they wish their papers continued they 
 know our rule. 
 
 OUU PUBLISHERS. 
 Numbers of our private friends liavo informed us that they 
 have received letters from distant places, inquiring who are 
 Mopsrs Jackson & Foynes, the publishers of the ' Irish Mi.s- 
 cellany V To satisfy such persons, \vc inform them, sub rosn, 
 that the gentlemen in question, are two practical printers, 
 nativo of the old land; who having, by industry and econ- 
 omy laid up a few dollars, agreed to become co-partners in 
 business, and purchased a large job printing establisment, 
 nt No. 2 Spring Lane, in this city, late Potter & Co. In this 
 concern, which co.st them geveral thousand dollars, they 
 have ft most extensive assortment of job type of every kind, 
 together witli power prestcs of numerous m/cs, and can, on 
 the shortest notice, execute any job of printing from a neat 
 
 butiiness card, to that of a poster big enough to cover the 
 State House I 
 
 OUU FRIENDS WILL PLKASK NOTICE. 
 
 By the bye, this reminds us that we lately saw a bill an- 
 nouncing a lecture by nn Irish gentleman, in aid ofthe fund 
 for the ' Sarsllold monument,' which was printed at the of- 
 licc ofthe ' Amrriran Patriot', the mostiutenae A'noif Nothing 
 paper iu the State!' 
 
 It seems to us that Sarsfield would not wish any monu- 
 ment erected by such means— he always gave more kickti 
 than coppers to the enemy. 
 
 POLITICAL PKINCIPLE ! 
 
 By the politeness of the Hon. Francis DeWitt, Secretary 
 of the State, we have received an *'absti"act of the census 
 of the Commonwealth of Massachusetts," from which we 
 glean sundry statistical facts of great value, and to which 
 we shall return for the purpose of showing the services 
 rendered to the State, by what is contemptuously termed 
 the "foreign population," and the great injustice done to 
 them socially and politically iu return. 
 
 From this valuable public document, we learn that the en- 
 tire population of Massachusetts, on the first day of June, 
 18^5, was 1,132,369 persons. Of this number, 344,685 were 
 persons of foreign birth ; proving that the latter are 
 considerably more than one Hfth of the entire population 
 of the .State. These numbers do not contain the number 
 of children of foreign parentage, who, social])', are treated 
 as "foreigners," otherwise the proportion of "foreigners," 
 to " natives" would have been much larger. 
 
 Did our time at present permit, we could go back thro' the 
 pages of this abstract, and prove not only that the incri 
 which has taken place in the population of this State is 
 mainly attributable to toreign immigration.but that a large, 
 and, if "men constitute a State," destructive decrease iu 
 the population, must inevitably have occurred, but for the 
 same cause. Why is it that the number of children born 
 of native and foreign parents respectively, are not given in 
 this abstract? Surely a statician anxious to spread before 
 the public a correct analysis of a census containing so much 
 of vital importance to statesmen and to the State, ought 
 not to have left out of sight, a feature so important as this? 
 Iu taking the census was not this matter fully inquired in- 
 to? If so, why was it omitted? 
 
 The answer is, that the children of foreign parentage, 
 born iu this State, are more numerous in proportion to the 
 number of their parents, than the children of native par- 
 ents. It would have made, what is called the " foreign ele- 
 ment," appear much stronger than it was desirable for the 
 public to know. 
 
 The best feature of this abstract is the "tables" commenc- 
 ing at page 230, where, under the head of ''Nativity," is 
 arranged a vast amount of valuable information which will 
 be no fault of ours, if it is not more generally known. — 
 Thus, after giving, (pages 231-32,) the number of natives 
 and foreigners in each county in the State, the compiler 
 says, 
 
 " The preceding table clearly demonstrates that the for- 
 eign population of Massachusetts is not very evenly distri- 
 buted among the several counties; and that while there is 
 a great proportion of this class in some counties, there are 
 very few foreigners in others. For instance, iu the County 
 of Suffolk, of which Boston, the capital of the Common- 
 wealth, composes the chief part, there are about sixty-seven 
 foreign inhabitants to every one hundred native American 
 citizens; and this, too, without including with the foreign- 
 ers any portion of their cliildren who were born in this 
 country. In the counties of Norfolk and Middlesex, the 
 foreigners comprise nearly one-quarter of the population. — 
 On the contrary, in the counties of Dukes, Barnstable, 
 Nantucket, Franklin and Plymouth, those of foreign birth 
 are comparatively an inconsiderable portion of the popula- 
 tion. Four counties only show a proportion of foreign 
 population, exceeding the aggregate foreign proportion of 
 the whole Commonwealth." 
 
 For the present we leave the " abstract," and pursue a few 
 reflections which its perusal has suggested. 
 
 It was a principle of the revolutionary fathers, that ' tax- 
 ation without representation is not tyranny.' If this princi- 
 ple is true, why ought not that portion of the people called 
 " foreigners," who compose one fifth of the population of 
 the Commonwealth, be represented in every department of 
 State? 
 
 If this principle is true, and who dare say 'tis not? we ask, 
 emphatically ask, our liberal Mayor Lincoln, why ought 
 not the 67 per cent, ofthe citizens of Boston— the " foreign- 
 ers," Mayor Lincoln if you please, why ought they not to be 
 represented in every department of the city goveniment?— 
 Yet in this city, there is not a single foreigner holding any 
 office of emolument under the city government, and we are 
 told, indignantly told, in effect by Mayor Lincoln, that 
 because a gentleman is even "suspected" of being a friend 
 to Irishmen, he shall not be appointed Chief of Police! 
 Enough for to day ! 
 
 read 'pointedly ' for 'positively,' with errors of punctuation 
 which we will endeavor to avoid in future, we hope to keep 
 pressing onward to perfection— at least we promise so. 
 
 Errata.- In the sketch of Brieu Boiroimhe of last week, 
 for ' Carlerius,' rend 'barbarians.' In the article on the 
 lion. Caleb Cushing's lecture, in Fpeaking of Jloore'.-! poem, 
 
 AMUSEMENTS DURING THE PAST WEEK. 
 
 The ' hard times ' seem to have made a visible impression 
 during the past week, upon the places of popular rcHort, n» 
 in most instances but ehm houses have rewarded the ciforts 
 of our managers. 
 
 TiiK Boston Theatre, owing to the prcEcnce ofthe Ea- 
 vel's, has been generally well attended, indeed mostly 
 crowded; and the performances have nightly excited great 
 mirth. 
 
 The ilusEUM, so well known as one of our most popular 
 theatres, drives a good business, and nightly pres(,-nts a bill 
 of fare which shows its manager is determined not to be be- 
 hind the spirit ofthe times in catering for public jjatronage, 
 
 Ordway drives ahead with bis usual zeal and good tsBte. 
 The respectable audiences nightly t^miling upon our old 
 friend, though not as large as we could wisli- owing doubt- 
 less to the cold weather of the past week— serve to prove 
 that his past efforts in administering to public pleasure, are 
 not forgotten. 
 
 Morris Bros. Pell & Huntley's Minstrels, arc the 
 chief source of attraction in the Ethiopian line- Their new 
 Opera Hall, in School St., is nigthly crowded by highly re- 
 spectable audiences. The eflorls of the various artists 
 are received with immense applause. 'Bones' is in- 
 imitable; and his pleasing absurdities provoke the audience 
 into bursts of uproarious laughter. The singing ofthe ' Em- 
 igrant's Farewell,' (which we had the pleasure of listening 
 to one evening last week,) by H. S.Thompson, was indeed 
 fine. He possesses a rich musical voice, and great pathos, 
 which he exercised with artistic skill and pleasing eflect — 
 The ' Anvil Chorus ' is, in our^opinion, one ofthe most uniqve 
 performances ofthe day. This alone, is worth the price of 
 admission. Space will not permit us this week to refer to the 
 other performers as they deserve, with the exception of 
 ' Dick Sliter, the Champion jig dancer.' We say, in sober 
 earnestness, many a fine fellow have we seen jig it at home, 
 fair and green, but Dick beats Banagher, and Banagher 
 
 beats the d 1. It is impossible to conceive his equal — 
 
 Dick's we mean. 
 
 We will only add, there is no place of amnscmcnt in 
 the city where a family could spend a more plea.-ing night, 
 than at the School St. Opera House. We wish the spirited 
 managers every t 
 
 OUR REGULAR CORRESPONDENTS. 
 
 We have not, yet, fully completed all the arrangements i\c 
 have in view for the purpose of makingthe Misrdlnvj/ a first- 
 class, illustrated, weekly paper, in accordance with our 
 prospectus. We, however, this week present the first com- 
 munication of our New York Correspondent. He is, we 
 can assure our readers, a gentleman of high literary attain- 
 ments, whose name, were we at liberty to mention it, would 
 be a suflRcient guarantee in advance, of the excellence of his 
 future contributions. 
 
 We have also completed arrangements with a gentleman 
 resident in the city of Dublin, a true nationalist, in ever)-- 
 thing devoted to the best interests of our race on the old 
 soil, to supply us with the latest and most accurate events 
 transpiring in that ancient !y/5»^rt sanctorum. These letters 
 we expect will be perused with interest by our readers. His 
 first letter we hope to receive in season for our next publi- 
 cation. 
 
 We are also negociating with a gentleman in a Western 
 State, who possesses extensive means of information, to 
 supply us with frequent intelligence relative to the condi- 
 tion ofthe Western States, tliebest localities for settlers, tlie 
 spurious land schemes upon foot, and other matters which 
 cannot fail to be of value to the thousands of 'foreigners,' 
 who intend going West from these Eastern States when the 
 season opens. 
 
 Our readers will thus see that we are determined not only 
 to fulfil our engagements to the letter, but, in consequence 
 of the patronage so generously bestowed upon our under- 
 taking so far- generous indeed beyond our most sanguine 
 anticipations— that we shall add to the il/iVf/Zaiiy attractions 
 of a high order not hitherto promised. 
 
 Lecture by T. F. Meagher. — It p:ivcs us much 
 pleasure to sec by our cxcbnngcs tliat this distinguish- 
 ed gentleman, and popular lecturer is dcli-rhting^crowd- 
 ed audiences in the Weet, where he now is lecturing;. 
 Oa bis return he lectures in New Yoik city. 
 
 The Joly Riots in Belfast. — The New Gov- 
 ernment iNQuiTtY. We find that Messrs FJzmaurice 
 and Goold, tlie commissioners sent down by the gov- 
 ernment to investifrnte certnin charges made against 
 the constabulary, relative to their conduct during tlio 
 July riots arc doing their business with closed doors 
 — Banna-. 
 
42 
 
 IlllSH MISCELLANY. 
 
 OOBBBSPONDCNCB. 
 
 I warm and noble-hearted race — true cxpouonte of tbo 
 
 AVriltc. (or~tl.71ni>ccllni.y. 'P'"' »''''■'' I'<-'"-va.le9 tlieir fnilierl.ind. 
 
 J E M T O () N K K ' S S II T . '^^"■' l'''»i'"'''l i"^", 'be cotiiitrv which Inst meets ihc 
 
 iiv T. o'n. I eye of its exile, when lenviii); the old world for the 
 
 ■Well, comriides, since you wish il, I will rclnte how ■"■"'• s'rc'<l'i"t,' ■"'<) the Ailantie, like a diuinoiul set 
 
 Jetn got so many wounds', lie held danger in as low '" '''" ''""''^'' "•" continental lCiiro|)o. A country 
 
 an estimate as aiiy man I ever knew. As you know, "'''''' '"'* "*'''' •""'" ">nsci<»is of the great joy, the 
 
 we wore of the storming piirty on the morning of the : ''°°" °^ l'''i'r'y inevltnl.ly hiings to a country when 
 8thofSo|.teml)er; we waited with impatience for the ""''^ I'ominncntly attained ; and how often has this 
 first streak of day, to rush, full of Ii0|.c and cnihu- l'^"'''" ""™ '''»mted in this, their suinemc de.<.iic; 
 siasm, over the undug graves in which three fourths 
 of our numbers slept before that same sun went 
 down. 
 
 AVIicn day broke, we arose from a cold and cheer- 
 less bivouac, wiped the heavy dew from our muskets 
 and saw that our bayonets were properly locked. 
 
 and are we not warranted in saying that this i)erpetual 
 disappointment is one of the prime ciiuscs of driving 
 so many of her sons elsewhere to seek liberty and a 
 homo ? 
 
 What is a more melancholy sight than to witness a 
 noble race of men and women, who can fully appre- 
 
 yot it is equally true llint these faults have been seized 
 hy the enemies of her liberty to bring her into tubjec- 
 into. 
 
 I will close this paper, hoping at the same time 
 that at some future jieriod 1 may be able to coiiiributo 
 something else on the suliject, by giving you my ' God 
 speed' to your Miscellany, trusting that it may be one 
 of the eflicient instruments in the hands of the coun- 
 trymen which it represents, to disseminate those broad 
 and liberal prineiplei) of government in which all men 
 can have a voice — an efficient voice — in their own 
 civil and political regulations, and where the c.\patri- 
 ted of every country may he truly and im])irtially rep- 
 resented for the bcnelil of the whole. E. S. W. 
 
 Some slight skirmishing was already goingon between ' """^ ''"* ^^'^""'"i: "f '""•>••}• ; struggling through suc- 
 the outposts. We now received "the order ,o ' Ad- ' ^''''"''^ ^''""'"ions to obtain their national freedom, 
 vanro, rcscn-ing our (ire until we were within one I ""'' ■''"' ''"'"''*^ ""'' disappointed in each and every 
 hundred yards of the enemy, then to pour in our ^yell- I *•'*"'?' ■ 
 
 directed volley and charge,"' but ere the last word of I ^''''''>"'' ''"^ ""'<''' "\ioycd that liberty which is corn- 
 that order was heard, our ranks were sadly thinned. ' P''<^1"'"''^'' '" '''*' l^ioadcst sense of the term. That 
 We raadegood the order, however, hy the bayo'net'sj.oint I '''"^'''•^' "■'"'■'' '■'^'^"''^ '^o ''"'■ "^ is necessary to the 
 and cap-ured the enemy's guns and turned them with ^'''"'•^' ""'' '""'■"'^st of the society in which it is insti- 
 crtV-ct upon their retreating columns. Here happened i ""^^ ''* ''"''' ''^'"'J"- ^."' W'''™' ''^'"''i/ '» someihin 
 the mistake of the day ; by some unaccountable 
 
 means our advantage was not made good by timcli 
 support, and when the smoke arose above the field 
 the Mexican commander saw the miserable handful of 
 men that routed him, and our unsupjiorted position, 
 he immediately rallied his men, retook his guns, and 
 drove the retnnant of our eight hundred back upon 
 the reserve. Ere he aceomplished this, however, he 
 received a shot from Jem Tooner I shall never forget. 
 It happened this way. The Mexicans were steadily 
 advancing, with a IKod of fire streaming from out 
 their whole front, while three men under Jem's direc- 
 tion, were endeavoring to load a heavy field-piece — no 
 easy matter for infjniry not ac(|uainted — besides we 
 could net find ammunition to suit the piece. 
 
 I was alidut to follow my retreating comrades when 
 Jem hallooed, ' Ram her home — don't run yet — we 
 will give them pepper!' I lurntd and rammed, but 
 could not tell what sort of a charge, or how many 
 charges Jem had in. Jem fired, after deliberately 
 sighting bis piece, and with that one shot the >vhole 
 column stiggcred, and being taken half-flank, made 
 an opening large tnough for a train of cars to go 
 through. I Icl't, for although not the first, I did not 
 like to be the last, the Mexicans being now uncom- 
 fortably close. 
 
 After the fight was over, Jem was taken off the 
 field in a blanket. He had been wounded early in the 
 morning in the instep, and so intent was he ujion see- 
 ing the effect of his shot, that the gun in its rebound 
 knocked him down, breaking his leg. This of course 
 spoiled his running qualities, and as he lay on his 
 back, the first Mexican coming up drove bis bayonet 
 ihrougli him into the ground. They had soon to give 
 way to American prowess, however, and though sad 
 losers, we remained masters of the field of ' Molino del 
 Key.' 
 
 When last I saw liim I helped him into a wagon, 
 returning to the United States, lie was on crut.hes ; 
 one leg was drawn up, having but very little use of 
 it— the other he left in Mexico, (as he said, for ' a leg- 
 acy,') and his body \vas neatly bent doul>le. He was 
 discharged, havitig eight wounds, and receiving eight 
 dollars per month, or what is called a full pension. 
 
 broader than this ; it is the freedom of a nation or 
 state from all unjust abridgment of its rights and in- 
 dependence by any other nation. This is what Ire- 
 land has sighed and labored through a series of strug- 
 gles in its long career of n.itionality, and has failed 
 to attain if, not on account of inaction or a dereliction 
 of their duty, for they have done what could have 
 been done within their moans. 
 
 Who wonders then, that they leave their mother 
 country for one where they can breathe the pure air of 
 lifierly ? Kot that they despise their fatherland ; on 
 tltc contrary, they love it too well to remain and wli- 
 ness its oppression, but they hate the tryanny which 
 holds and ever has held the rod of despotic ])0wcr 
 over their heads. 
 
 It is true she has a voice in the Britisli Parliament, 
 but it is the voice of an oppressed minority, which is 
 little belter than no voice at all. It is something like 
 placing a ]ierson in a dangerous position, where he 
 can move about a little, hut not far enough to free 
 himself from the ])eril which awaits him, and then cry 
 out to liim, ' Sai-c yourself— i/ou can move!' This has 
 been the case -with Ireland, in the British Parliament, 
 ever since she was represented there. She had a 
 voice there, but one not potent enough to do any es- 
 sential good to her oppressed people. 
 
 You can read Ireland's history in the hearts of her 
 men J yes, in its ' nation's eyes' It comes down to 
 US, like the traditions of the North American Indians, 
 from generation to generation, in the breasts of the 
 living, they seem io live their history in their individ- 
 ual acts. The history of the whole nation is portrayed 
 in the hearts of its individual citizens. 
 
 Who can mistake the true history of oppressed Ire- 
 land, when witnessing the lives and characters of its 
 sons. They all tell tlie same story of opjiression and 
 wrong received. Neither is this a mere tradition or 
 trite and cant complaint ; but it is a real and not an 
 imaginary fact. It is something which has sunk deep 
 and heavy upon and into the heart of that country, 
 and it is no wonder it has ; it has had time to do it. 
 The oppression has become national and individual in 
 its influence, since the oppressor's arm has never 
 yielded in its clemency towards them. This is no 
 ephemeral sorrow or ojiprcssion, whiih has not lasted 
 long enough to make an enduring impress upon its 
 national character, but it has been perpetual A mo- 
 mentary evil and its influences are likely to bo imme- 
 diately eradicated. 
 It is not my pur|)Osc to exaggerate, but would a<!k 
 
 For the Irish Mi.-ccllany. 
 
 THE IIUaH. 
 
 Although I am an American, whose ancestors came 
 
 from England, as early as the first settlement of the 
 
 Provincial Colony of Massachusetts Bay, and hen«e ' the candid rcidcr of historv, if he does not concur witli 
 can justly claim to he an American ; yet I Itel a live- 1 me concerning the past and present condition of Ire- 
 iy interest in that large class of Irishman who help 1 land, and I would say to those who have not-read 
 compose American society, who have expatriated ' her history for yourselves and ponder. There i. a 
 themselves through causes which were honest and great lesson at heart to be gained from it, which can- 
 justiliablc. A r -1 • I 1 . , 
 
 P , no' ''"1 to sink deep into the heart of the contcmpla- 
 
 uo to what country you wUl, we meet some of that i tive and sincere. Althongh Ireland has her faults. 
 
 HAD NO "O" TO HIS NAME. 
 
 We witnessed a scene at a railroad station a short 
 time since which afi'orded much aniu.semciit to the by- 
 standers. A very well and sbowily dressed man, with a 
 very prominent nose, alighted from the ears, and stood 
 watching tlieir departure, when he was bluntly accos- 
 ed by an oil son of Erin, (a recent importation), who 
 still retained the frieze coat and corduroys, and was 
 evidently but little Americanized, in the following man- 
 ner — 
 
 ' Arrah ! an' be me soul, is this yourself, Mr. 
 O'Nayle '.' 
 
 The 'gentleman,' looking first surprised, and then 
 shocked, and lastly indignant, replied : ' You're mis- 
 taken, sir, my name is not O'Navle.' 
 " Which {' 
 
 'My name is'nt O'Navle.' 
 
 •Isn't it now; An' you're not an O'Navle, an' ye 
 did'nt com from Skibbereen ? An' yer not the son of 
 the widder Bridget? An'may be Patrick, poor fellow, 
 that's dead and gon, was not yer father, naither ! Au' 
 yo didn't go to Balthnore wid a rich gentleman, an' 
 git into the rag bizness, an' make a power o' moncv ? 
 An' yer not an O'Nayle ? Well I well ! well ! be this 
 and be that, this bates all out entirely — an' yccs think 
 that I wouldn't know yees, Patrick ? wdl I wud with 
 that nose to j'cr for I'd take the Bible oaih to jees in 
 open court, before the judge, an' joory, an' ivery soule 
 that was in it . 
 
 ' An' so yer not an O'Nayle ? Well ! then, tis'nt ai- 
 sy donyin't, yer the image of yer father, so you are. — 
 Oh, sure an' I heard how grand ye wer, and what a 
 fine giiulcman ye wor, an' how ye did'nt know poor 
 men at all : an' fiire tis an illcgant coat yees have on, 
 so tis, an'very perlite ye are wid yeebig looks an' dul- 
 therin ways ? Divll a one I iver seen ye! was altered 
 equal to yees? an' yer not an Irishman, nalher! meb- 
 be tis a Yankee 3 c are. all out ; divil a won on 'cm 
 doubts it, on'yre not an' O'Nayle ; I'll engage yer 
 ain't an Irishman, naythcr — an'sure yer not O'Nayle. 
 Might I make bould to ax ye yer name ? ' 
 
 AM this was vociferated very rapidly, and in a tone 
 of dec]) indignation, as the 'gentleman of the rag biz- 
 ness' rcjilied : 
 
 ' My name is Neil, sir-r, but 1 have no to the 
 name.' 
 
 ' An' is that it ? Ye'vc niver an O to yer name. — 
 Did yees loose it after ye came to Anicrika ? ' 
 
 ' No, sir-r, I did not. I never had an O to my 
 name.' 
 
 ' D'yecs tell mo that ? Well, thin Mr. Nayle, I mind 
 when there was an O to yer name, big enough to drive 
 a horse and cjirt through, whalsomiver yc'vo done wid 
 it since.' 
 
 The ' gintleman' declining further controversy, left 
 indignantly, denying the 'soft impeachment.' — Ji:x. 
 
 The above incident of itself is worthy of reading, 
 but doubly worthy of making a few comments on. 
 
 Our people must not expect the Miscellany to jjan- 
 der to their prejudices, nor fear to correct their wrong 
 doings. It would appear as though many of ilum 
 were ashamed of these additions, which at once char- 
 acterize their noble extraction, and the antiquity of 
 their names. Wc see some 0'Neill,s, O'Brien's, O'- 
 Connors, McCarthy's, Mageuises, and mary others, 
 suppress them, which can only arise from ignorance, 
 littleness of mind, or a foolish disiic of conforming to 
 
IRISH MISCELLAI4Y. 
 
 43 
 
 English taste, as they must be introduced in the Irish 
 l>ruuunciaiion of these names. Tiny may lie accused 
 of (lie same inditlVrcncc wiih respect to their bnguiige, 
 which bespeaks an ancient ]H'0ii1c, and of which they 
 a licet to bo ignorant, to adopt a Jargon introduced 
 anionj; ihcm by foreigners. We know when the op- 
 pdrlunitios are equal, that Irish intellect will reach the 
 summit of prufcssionnl distinclion, as under adverse 
 circumstances it has made its mark in the world, and 
 had a fair share in moulding the destiny of men and 
 nations. 
 
 We know of nothing in Ireland's history of whiih a 
 true man Riay be ashamed. It has hecn the first in 
 literature and civilization ; her scholars and soldiers 
 liavc a world-wide reputation ; and even now struggle 
 {a< some call h) against destiny. They prove tlicm- 
 selvcs iruo to the distinctive greatness of the Celtic 
 race and character. There is nothing then in the coun- 
 try, it must be in the men ; and strange, while some 
 have been pandering to the prejudices around them, 
 and been led to modernize or Anglicise their names, 
 to avoid being the butt for ignorance, intolerance and 
 bigotry. Many of their descendants have reached the 
 pinnacle of fame, proving, as it were, their Celtic ori- 
 gin, despite their father's infidelity to the glorious old 
 land. James K. Polk, for instance, whose ancestry 
 were old Irish Pollock's, and John C. Calhoun, of dis- 
 tinguished statesmanship and ahiUly whose father was 
 Patrick Callahan, one of the Irisli settlers on the Wax- 
 saw setltement as was Andiew Jackson's and Senator 
 Thomas l>usk's father's. But there is another class 
 who have ignored the Saxonizing system, and prefer 
 the prefix of Monsieur, for instance. Monsieur Du- 
 Crow, professor, &c., that meant Michael Crow, of the 
 Duldin liberiies, who after a few years astonishing the 
 Parisians by his feats of equestrianism, thought he 
 would take London by storm, and as Du-CJrow the 
 French professor, did astonish the cockneys in Ast- 
 ley's old theatre, foot of Westminster bridge, where as 
 proprietor he went mad through being burnt out, and 
 died some few years ago. A certain professor, Maho- 
 ni from Brussels whom we recognised as from Ham- 
 mond's Slarsh, in Cork's own city, tipped us the wink 
 a short time since, and told us he was doing a smash- 
 ing business, for one who so badly understood the 
 American language (!) 
 
 We know a Major Uulany and several Delano's all 
 Irish Delany'ij, and a certain Mr. McLaithan a good 
 Galway McLauglilin. We know a Signor Juan Mo- 
 randi — one John Moran from Sligo — but cases are too 
 numerous to writeof in extenso. Our women like- 
 wise from whom we certainly expect better things, 
 drawl out the yankeo monysyllables, ' I,' 'be,' rather 
 too soon, to prove an American nativity. We cannot 
 countenance such weak and ignorant conduct. If Ire- 
 land was successful to-morrow in the restoration of 
 her nationality, and her green flag proudly floated from 
 every spire, bailed by the cheers of this free people, 
 how many would be glad to acknowledge Irish birth, 
 or Irish ancestry then ! It was not thus with the men 
 who founded the ' Biigade,' nor those who wrote their 
 names high on the scroll of fame, in Spain, Austria, 
 Russia or elsewhere — they knew and felt her fallen po- 
 sition, and although they became grandees and dukes, 
 marshals, generals, governors, and ministers of Slate, 
 yet the foreign titles did not alter the U'Farrells, the 
 b'Donnell's, O'lliggins', O'Neill's, the O'DiUons, 
 O'Heilly or the McMahou's. 
 
 No, those men were proud of the old names, as they 
 were of the old land, and its classic memories. No true 
 son of Jirin but must with Moore 
 ' Keraeniber tltee? Yes, while there's life in tliis heart. 
 It shall never forget thee, all alone as thou art; 
 More dear in thy sorrow, thy gloom, and thy showers. 
 Than the rest of the world in their sunniest hoars. 
 "Wurt thou all that I wish thee, great, glorious, and free, 
 Virst flower of the earth, and first gem of the sea, 
 I niiglit hail thee with prouder, with Iiajjpierbrow, 
 Hut O. could I love thee more deeply than now ? 
 Ko, thy chains as Ihey rankle, thy blood as it ruus. 
 Hut make thee more painfully dear to thy sous — 
 Whose hearts, like the young of the desert-bird's nest, 
 Drink love in each life-drop that flows from thy breast.' 
 And thus I sign myself, PAUDEEN. 
 
 LETTER FROM JOHN MITCHELL. 
 
 The following letter, so ohnractcristio of its able author, 
 
 appeared in the last nambor of the Southern Citizen. It will, 
 
 we are sure, bo read with nnich pleasure by every class of 
 
 oar readers. 
 
 A TOUR IN THE .SOUTH-WEST. 
 No. I. 
 
 LETTER TO JOHN MAnTIN, ESQ., KCK DE I.ACEPEDE, I'AEIS. 
 
 Napoleon, AniiANBAS, Jan. 18tli, 1868. 
 
 Jlljf Dear Martin .-—Instead of a formal reply to your last 
 letter, take a journal of my first tour down the Mississippi, 
 and through Louisiana and Alabama— with which latter 
 respectable Stale, my name is so frequently connected, that 
 I begin to own a certain filial interest in her. 
 
 That a serious discordance of opinion exists between us, 
 on the subject of the Southern States and their way of life; 
 and that you can adduce vigorous arguments to prove (from 
 a very distant point of view) that we are all in the wrong 
 here, may be admitted, but is nothing to the present pur- 
 pose. Without regard to the discordance, and without 
 prejiulice to the arguments, I mean to think aloud for you 
 during my journey, and tell you simply what I see and what 
 I hear. What you are to expect in these letters is not a 
 disquisition but a Journal. 
 
 I had never before been on the lower Mississippi ; and am 
 shortly to see, for the first time, the famoas city of New Or- 
 leans, and that pleasant seat of the cotton trade. Mobile.— 
 Certain Literary Societies of those cities have invited me to 
 lectare before them ; I gladly avail myself of the invita- 
 tion, hoping much more to instruct myself than to improve 
 my auditory ; and, inasmuch as any human being, with eyes 
 and understanding moderately open, travelling for the first 
 time, over so singular a conutry, must see much that will in- 
 terest others as well as himself, I propose to caiTy you along 
 with me, paying your fare all through, as Uhland did ior 
 his ghostly friends; aud so without farther preface let us 
 start oft' at once. 
 
 On the morning of the eleventh of January, we repair to 
 the Railroad Depot of the East Tennessee and Georgia Road 
 at Knoxville. The train arrives from Virginia, aud it con- 
 sists of one baggage car aud two passenger cars ; for the 
 traflic by this road passing through East Tennessee is still 
 but slender, and will so continue until the railroad connex- 
 ion is made complete. There is yet an interval of staging, 
 aboat thirty miles ; and to avoid this, most travellers will go 
 lound fi\e hundred miles by railway. Next Spring, howev- 
 er, the road will be complete; and thenceforward North and 
 South will pour themselves through our valley; New York 
 aud New Orleans will shake hands at the Knoxville depot. 
 
 Two passenger cars, then, come in from the Virginia side 
 — American passenger cars — none of year coupees — but long 
 houses on wheels, large enough to carry fifty persons, with 
 a wide space for a stove besides A few minutes elapse; and 
 then, yoa and I, committing ourselves to the charge of the 
 East Tennessee and Georgia Railroad Company, rush South 
 Westward. This train also consists of but two cars, not half 
 fall. 
 
 Have a clear idea, first, of our starting point. The Depot 
 is half a mile from the Holston river; but between lies a hill, 
 on which the town is built; and as almost the whole of the 
 town lies on the ri\'erward slope of this hill, neither river 
 nor town is visible. Only some scattered buildings connect- 
 ed with the two railroads— a large Hour-mill, and an iron- 
 foundry, a railroad-car lactory, a hotel — give intimation 
 that we areclose to some centre of population. Beyond, to 
 the North-west lie ranges of long low hills, all deeply clothed 
 with forest. 
 
 For twenty-five miles our course lies parallel to the i-iver 
 but not in sight of it; through a broken and hilly country 
 partially cleared aud cultivated. Suddenly the railroad 
 track in its windings round the hills comes out over the high 
 and steep bank or the river, just at the point where the 
 Holston and Tennessee unite their waters; and at the same 
 moment we look upon a wider horizon, bounded by the blue 
 Alleghanies. It has been a rainy winter; and the river 
 (henceforth called the Teunessee) is almost at highest flood. 
 From hence to London our track sweeps on a hue curve 
 midway up the sides of the high hills which enclose the 
 river, and then over a magnificent railroad bridge, full half 
 a mile long, into the little town of London. It is at this 
 point a magnificent stream, though it has still the Clinch and 
 Hiwassce to receive before it is swelled to its full volume.— 
 .\t Loudon we again leave the river to the right hand and 
 sec it no more for many miles; pass through the rich farm- 
 ing country called the Sweetwater valley, thickly studded 
 with plantations; pass by several small towns, Athens, 
 Charleston, Cleveland, all very much alike, with a church 
 steeple or two in each, and generally a county court-house 
 with its cupola of tin gleaming in the sun ; aud as we ap- 
 proach the State line of Tennessee and Georgia, find oar- 
 selves again'iu the unbroken forests, wherein the oak, chos- 
 nut and walnut have almost disappeared, and dark pine 
 woods indicate a poorer soil. About this State line there is 
 a remarkable depression in the chain of the Alleghany, 
 which turns Westward and traverses the Norlhcrn part of 
 Alabama. Soon we perceive that we have crossed the water- 
 shed and areonfhe other side of the mountains; the streams 
 on one side running northward into the Tenncs.-ee, aud on 
 
 the other flowing southward to swell the Coosa, which is 
 the principal branch of the noble Alabama. 
 
 This region is rather hungry and nigged looking. The 
 log-houses are small, rough and dingy, and the people mea- 
 gre, pale and ill-favored. It brings us to the small town of 
 Dalton, one of those abortive looking towns created by the 
 railroad. Here the East Tennessee and Georgia road ends. 
 The Western and Atlantic begins, and brings you, if such 
 be your ' destined end and way ' southward into Georgia, 
 and the handsome cities of Augusta, Slacon, Savannah, 
 Charleston. On the preseat occasion, however, I shall re- 
 quest your company on the road to Chattanooga. Once 
 more we must cross the watershed of the Alleghany, — this 
 time through a tunnel— and descend to the banks of the Ten- 
 nessee. We arrive at Chattanooga after dark ; and proceed 
 from thence along the bank of the river and round the base 
 of the Look-out Mountain. I regret that it is dark, inas- 
 much as you arc one of those who take delight in 'romantic 
 scenery.' Below Chattanooga the river is contracted with- 
 in narrow boundaries as it rushes through the Cumberland 
 ridge, making those phenomena of eddying and whirling 
 which the ' Anglo-Saxons,' so copious in an appropriate and 
 euphonious nomenclature, think proper to call 'the Suck,' 
 and the ' Boiling rot.' You have probably little notion of 
 the size of the river at this point. By the size of a river I 
 do not mean its breadth alone, nor its depth alone, nor its 
 rapidity alone, but depth, breadth and rapidity altogether; 
 that is to say the quantity of water flowing under any given 
 bridge in a given time. New Yorkers are in the habit of 
 calling the Hudson a river; and also the narrow part of 
 Long Island Sound a river. They are (estuaries both. The 
 tide flows up to Albany ; and it is only above tidewater that 
 you find the river proper, or the current of fresh water flow- 
 ing always downwards and never upwards. Now the Hud- 
 son above tide-water, even if you add the Mohawk, would 
 hardly add sensibly to the volume of the Tennessee at Chat- 
 tanooga. You know how travelling Londoners, too, always 
 measure the size of rivers by reference to 'Old Father 
 Thames,' as they call that muddy old Mother of Dead Dogs. 
 The Indus at Attock, they will tell you, is about as large aa 
 the Thames at Battersea; and the Danube at Buda Pesth 
 they compare to the Thames at Greenwich. But what sort 
 of ' river ' is that, which as often floats its dead dogs and 
 cats upwards through the bridges as downwards, and de- 
 posits the cabbage stalks of Hungerford Market away np at 
 Chelsea? The Thames at Windsor, indeed, is a river, and a 
 very small one— smaller than many affluents of the Tennes- 
 see which have hardly a name upon any map. 
 
 If you could take the Shannon, the Foyle, the Blackwa- 
 ter, the Bann, Barrow, Boyne, Nore and Suir, and ponr 
 them all into one channel, you would produce a river, as 1 
 estimate, equal to the Tennessee; yet the Tennessee is but 
 one of the tributaries of the Ohio, which is one of the trib- 
 utaries of the Mississippi. The Mississippi himself, then? — 
 But have patience. We are going to him. 
 
 We rush along all night, through North Alabama at 
 twenty miles an hour; and about the dawn of a gloomy 
 moruing, cross the Tennessee by a very long bridge to De- 
 catur, where there is awaiting us one of the worst break- 
 fasts which can be produced by the wit of man. I feel it 
 necessary to apologise to you as a stranger for this kind of 
 fare; but in the evening we shall sup sumptuously at Mem- 
 phis. North Alabama is a portion of the great Tennessee 
 valley, and is fertile in corn and cotton. It contains many 
 large plantations: and the planters regard Uantsville as a 
 kind of local metropolis. Many wealthy people have con- 
 gregated there and made it their residence, for the sake of 
 society aud the education of their children. It is therefore 
 a town of elegant villas and luxurious gardens; perfumed, 
 they say, by roses aud camelias, and illuminated by the soft 
 beams of dark eyes, which these stately Southern women 
 carry in their haughty heads— a light to lighten the world. 
 We passed by Hunisville after midnight; but did you not 
 feel breathing over your senses the balm of flowers? the at- 
 mosphere of beauty sleeping? 
 
 From Decatur, the railroad carries us to Tuscambia, 
 through a country of great fertility, slightly rolling— just 
 enough to drain the risk alluvial of the river valley, but not 
 cleared or cultivated to one fourth of its extent aud capaci- 
 ty. As daylight brightens, you begin to perceive that you 
 are in the region of cotton, and pass through hundreds of 
 acres, where the raw material of civilizatioit is yet but half 
 picked. Long rows of negroes are working, not too assid- 
 ulously, at this sacred work, unconscious of the high mis- 
 sion they are accomplishing, but all as jovial aud merry, ae 
 if they felt their own imirortance in the scheme of I'rovi- 
 dence. A natural reflection occurs and recurs to my mind 
 as I journey along on this forenoou. I see tlie teeming soil 
 not half cultivated, the wilderness not half tamed, the as- 
 siduous overseers too evidently short-handed in the fields, 
 the unpicked cotton flaunting in the winter wiud, the town 
 of Tuscambia ambitiously laid out.; with rudimculs of 
 stately streets, which look as if they were destined to grow 
 old before they are built up; and my natural reflection is, 
 that millions of negro slaves are this moment for sale by the 
 enterprising monarcha of Dahomey, Ashantee and Yoruba, 
 and arc crying aloud to be bought by reasonable people, 
 who know the use of a slave,— and so rescued from a too 
 probable death, to ornament a mat-palace with their skulls 
 
44 
 
 IRISH JUSCELLANY. 
 
 — to propitiate a diiiuc monkey, or luvraly to nirniKli foiili 
 a sok'iuu tl■u.^t with tlicir brains. Oli.' my IVicud, does uot 
 £llilopiu utretcli I'ortli lii'r liaiida to Alubiimuf 
 
 At Tuscambin >vo arv oucc niorf ni-iir tlie bank of the 
 Tenneji."*ec ; but hero we leave it alto^tlier; or rntlier it 
 leaves us, turns norttiwurd, and dowsperlmps Tour lunulred 
 milG^ Airllier tliruu;;)! Alabama, Tennessee and Kentueky. 
 VTe hold on ourconrse westward and north westwaril, llini' 
 tUo northern i>art ofMis-sissippi State, thence over the .Stale 
 line again into Western Tennessee, over vast tracts ofactn- 
 al and possible cotton lands. At last, lownr<ls evening, wc 
 enter, a decidedly rolling country, still mostly covered with 
 its ancient forest. I'retty villas appear; then more and 
 more frequent on our path, handsome n'sldences; we are 
 on the Chickasaw Hlulfs. Far away stretch into blue dis- 
 tance the forests and cane brakes of Arkansas. Close be- 
 fore us, the smoke ami haze of a large city; and rolling iu 
 dc«p edtlies at its (bet. broad, deep, brimfull, whirling, and 
 boiling with silent and resistless impetuousity — lo! you, 
 Mississippi! 
 
 It is my second visit to the Great River. Last year I stea- 
 med up fl-om Cairo to .St. Louis; and IVom thence past the 
 raouth of the Missouri to Alton in Illinois. I\'ow,you know 
 I dcspisv " scenery ;■' and in fact there is uo sccner>- here as 
 that word is usually understood. Nothingcan well be con- 
 eclved morv dreary looking than endless low banks covered 
 with ditfereut growth of cotton-wood. No green sloping 
 banks; no fk-owniug beetling din's, (at least on thispart of the 
 riverl, no custellate<l ruins, no richly improved farms, with 
 orcbanls and orauge groves, such as we are shortly to sec 
 on the Louisiana coast. What is it, then, that makes the 
 Missi-ssippi so impresiiivc to the imagination.' My friend, it 
 Is that this river is the aorta of the whole laud; and when 
 you approach its bauks you feel the beating of America's 
 great heart. 
 
 Old Nile was well enough in a small way ; and I desire to 
 speak witli becoming respect of the Yang-tse-Kiang. The 
 Amazon also, it may be confessed, makes a good appear- 
 ance upon the map, aud may eventually, if it get iuto the 
 right hands, become one of the respectable rivers of the 
 globe, intertropical as it is. But the whole Nile Delta would 
 be lost in the single State of Arkansas; the whole Nile 
 would not swell Mississippi by a foot. The great Chinese 
 river flows almost iu vain, for men who are weaker than 
 women ; and the mighty 3Iaranon, running through vast 
 countries whose products arc too similar to one another, 
 olTers its waters to navigation as yet in vain; for who would 
 cxclionge oranges for oranges? or ca.ssava for cassava? — 
 Hut I will not engage you just now iu discussions of politi- 
 ical economy. 
 
 We are iu -Memphis; an omnibus is ready to corry us to 
 the Worsham House; and an e.xprcssman on hand to take 
 charge of our boggage checks. We are still in the .State of 
 Tenneosce, as we were at starting yesterday morning; but 
 have traversed portions of Georgia, Alabama, and Missis- 
 fippi in our journey. The greater part of it has been mode 
 upon the Memphis and Charleston Ifailroud ; a great new 
 line of traflic, lying altogether in the cotton countries, and 
 connecting the Mis.sissippi with Charleston and Savannah; 
 of which line I « ill remark, in passing, that it is well con- 
 structed and that its cai-s glide along more smoothly than 
 is usual ujmn our Southern roads. 
 
 It is evident that we are entering a busy populous and 
 wealthy city; the lamps arc lighted, the streets alive with 
 hordes, vehicles, wagons, pedestrians, the theatres,opcn (two 
 in number) and the hotels swarming. "We secure a good 
 room iu the Worsham House; aud now for a sleep long aud 
 sound, to prepare for the tasks or pleasures of to-morrow; 
 for I warn you that Slemphis is a jovial and convivial city; 
 albeit somewhat ferocious it is said, and sudden in rjuarrcl 
 —a city where one may have Ids throat as quickly and 
 liand!>omely cut af in any corporate town in the Union ; but 
 on the other hond a city where, if your life be spared, you 
 will have ' a good time.' 
 
 <jood night! Au revoir iu the morning. 
 
 J. M. 
 
 I Ercn if it were admitted that a prima fdcie (ground 
 or a |irusc'ciitiun is to be round in the circuinstuni-c 
 ! that the House of Cuininons tins ordered this procee- 
 ding (an admission whieli I am by no means inclined 
 to make), still it seems to me that the removal of the 
 venue IVom Miiyo to Dutilin is an uct ofi-misiiCL- 
 , TioN unwortliy otniiy Government. 
 I The jurors of Mayo are mueli more competent to 
 determine tlio merits of tlio cu.so than a jury unnc- 
 quuintcd with tlio circumstanees of the county in 
 wliicli the election took place. We know by the cx- 
 , perienees of 18 14 and 1848 how easy it is to i-ACii ju- 
 ries in Dublin ; but even if the jury were honestly se- 
 lected, does any one who is acquainted with the tem- 
 per of Irish society believe that llie citizens of Dublin 
 and its vicinity are more free from jircjudice in regard 
 ! to the proceedings of a Catholic clergyman ot an elec- 
 I lion than the landliolJers of Mayo '. It is manifest, 
 therefore, tliat the Law Officers of the Crown have 
 procured a change in the venue, not for the purpose of 
 obtaining a fair trial, but in the hope of ensuring a 
 conviction. 
 
 It is manifest also, that the expenses incidental to 
 this preliminary proceeding, must be considerable ; 
 and that those whicli are to be incurred liere after will 
 be gieatly augmented by the necessity of carrying wit- 
 nesses to Dublin. 
 
 I trust therefore, that an adequate fund may be rais- 
 ed by contributions from all parts of Ireland to in- 
 demnify the Rev. Mr. Conway for the expense and 
 vexation incidental to these harassing proceedings. 
 
 In such cases as the present, subscriptions of small 
 amount, coming from a great number of persons, are 
 preferable lo large subscriptions ottered by a few indi- 
 viduals, because it is easier in this way to raise a con- 
 siderable fund, and because they servo to show what 
 is the feeling of the country on the subject. 
 
 To Kie it .seems tflat it is the duty of the people of 
 Ireland lo prove to the Government that, tbougli sup- 
 ported by an army of subsided Ljuekals, it cannot 
 violate with impunity the first principles of justice. 
 
 Believe me, yours very faithfully; 
 
 ■William S. O'Brien. 
 
 The O'Donoghne, M. P. 
 
 SMITH O'BRIEN. 
 
 Our readers will peruse with pleasure the following 
 letter from the greatest living Iri.shman. 
 
 CAiiiitJjOYLE, Newcastle AVest, Feb. 1, 1859. 
 
 My dear Sir— Perceiving with n-.nch satisfaction that 
 a fund is about to be raised in order lo enable Ucv. 
 Mr. Conway todefcay the expenses incidental to his 
 trial in Dublin, I beg to offi.r a subscription of X2 
 in aid of that object. 
 
 Having no suflicient means of judging whether Rev 
 Mr. Conway did ordid not exceed the limits of pro- 
 priety in bis eager support of Mr. George -Moore at 
 the Mayo election, I offer no opinion upon that ques- 
 tion. But I have not any difficulty in forming an opin- 
 ion as to the question whether lie ought or ought not 
 to be tried in the countv of Mavo rather than in Dub- 
 Un. 
 
 ' A GREAT DAY FOR IRELAND.' 
 With great flourish it has been announced that her 
 most gracious Majesly has granted to the Irish peo- 
 ple a special mark of her favor. ' What is it V will be 
 asked by every one. Has her Majesty set aside llie 
 ruinous act of Union ? — well let us not expect to much 
 from her, of her own free will. Perhaps her Jlajesty 
 has directed the atteniion of her ministers to the un- 
 protected state of the Irish tenantry? If lliat be not 
 the kind act we can siill think of others. Perhaps her 
 Majesty, who is a woman, a wife, and a mother, and 
 who has had her eldest daughter married only a few- 
 days ago, ha?, amid all the festivities, heard the groans 
 of that poor soldier's wife, who, with one little child by 
 her side and likely soon to give birih to another, was 
 cruelly refused a temporary relief from the pulilic char- 
 ities of the country for which hei husband was braving 
 death and danger, and was shipped across to Ireland 
 on the deck of a steamer, exposed to wet, cold and 
 hunger. Perhap.s, wo say, the claim.s of common hu- 
 manity asserted themselves — the heart of the royal la- 
 dy was moved — the breasts which have but lately given 
 milk were heaved with a fine emotion, and the Queen 
 spoke and said, ' Let this cruel law cease !' Or, pcr- 
 liajjs her Miijesly has heard the still louder complaint 
 from.Doncgal, where ihe i-ufl'rers can he counted by 
 hundreds, where a brave and virtuous people male and 
 female, arc peri-hing , are being legally stripped, na- 
 ked and starved banished from t'.ieir cabins, and left of 
 all the world no place llieir own but the highways and 
 the churchyard. Perhaps her Ma;esly shudders at this 
 mass of sufl'cring, and has ordered that never more 
 shall landloid or landagk,nt have it in his power thus 
 to oppress the peojilc. But we shall cease guessing — 
 the fact is before us — here it is in a few words. 
 
 Ilcr Jlost Gracious Majesty, as a particular mark of 
 her favor, has given thelrish people permission to raise 
 two additional rc),imenis of Dragoons for her service. 
 
 And tliis is our rich present I This is the royal 
 Iioon ! Let us lill with gratitude. There is no heed 
 for the .'ufl'erings of the Irish poor, but our people are 
 afforded increased facilities for gelling stabbed, shot, 
 and cut to pieces in the service of England — there is no 
 redress for the wrongs of the Irish tenantry, but two 
 new outlets are opened for the blood of the Irish peo- 
 ple ! And this is Irelands' new years, gift from the 
 English Government ! — Dublin Aolioit. 
 
 OUR NEW YORK CORRESPONDENCE. 
 New York, 1858. 
 
 Old winter, who has been so long lingering in the 
 lap — not of spring, but of summer, as though he would 
 fain nestle in those luxurious quarters until vigorotis 
 young spring arrived to dispossess him — has at length 
 roused himself, shaken his hoary locks, aud drowned 
 this 'great emporium' in a snowy deluge. I suppose 
 the old fellow, feeling his last hours approaching, has 
 made a desperate eti'ort to save his reputation, not 
 wishing to depart from the world, leaving a bad name 
 behind him. Even us I write, faintly comes upon the 
 cloudy atmosphere the sweet tinkling of the sleigh 
 btUs; while in many a luxurious home, young merry 
 hearts are tingling in joyous anticii)ation of a rare 
 snow carnival at last. Up to this time buffalo rcbes 
 and sleigh-bells were a drug in the market ; but now, 
 doubtless, they will be quoted high. But this pleas- 
 ant variety in our city weather will, I fear, be produc- 
 tive of some sad disasters off the sea-board ; for stiff 
 gales have been blowing from the west for some time 
 past, and the number of vessels beating about the 
 coast in vain attempts to make some harbor, must bo 
 numerous. The danger, therefore, is imminent that 
 iu the blinding snow-storm of Saturday and Saturday 
 night many of them may have gone ashore. 
 
 In the absence of the Italian Opera last week, wo 
 have been furnished with another class of entertain- 
 ment in Gotham by that volatile itinerant, that be- 
 witching dansiitse, fascinating lecturer, and most as- 
 tute dij>lomaiist called Lola Monlez. I do not allude 
 to her lectures — for all lectures are flat and stale 
 enough now, even those from the lips of a modern 
 Aspasia — but to a kind of amusement which seems to 
 follow, as naturally in the track of Ibis bellicose syren 
 as her attendant star pursues the course of the moon. 
 I mean a row. You know Lola claims to be a Celt ; 
 and I suppose you know also (for have we not abun- 
 dant Anglo-Saxon authority for the fact,) that all 
 Celts are given to lighting. However, it so happens 
 that wherever this lady takes up her abiding place 
 there is certain to be a rumpus about her, whether she 
 is a principal in the melee, which often happens, or 
 merely the Helen whose qualities of person bring woes 
 as direful as the wrath of Achilles. 
 
 There was an important suit in progress here before 
 a referee, Mr. J N. Whiting in which a person going 
 by the classic name of Jobson was jilaintiff, and it 
 appears that the defendant's counsel learned that 
 M.idame Lala Montcz could give some information as 
 to this person's antecedents in London, where he 
 came from, which would not reflect very favorably on 
 his character. In this, counsel had not miscaleula ted 
 for Lola swore that the unhappy Jolison, who passes 
 here for a ' doctor,' enjoyed while in London, the re- 
 spectable title of a 'jail-bird.' This statement, you 
 may suppose, gave rise to much bitter feeling on the 
 plaintift"'s side, and accordingly during the second 
 day's proceedings, while Jobson's counsel was cross- 
 examining the countess, with a view to ascertain 
 whether she was 7iee Maria R<isanna Gilbert, or nee 
 Betsy Watson, and whether she saw the light first iu 
 Limerick or in Jlontrose — on neither of which points 
 would the countess enlighten him — a grand fcrimm!)ge 
 rommenccd between Pluiniiff Jobson and Lawyer 
 Secly converting the releree's office at once into a 
 fierce battle-field. Jobson made at his antagonist with 
 a whip ; but it turned out that he cut a twig to scourge 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 45 
 
 himself, for Seely wrenclied it fiom him and belab- 
 ored him soundly. At the beginning of the fracas a 
 stove stood between the combatants ; l>ut the stove 
 went down, and Jobson aftty it. 'J ho rejiorters' 
 table also intervened ; but that too was tilted over, 
 scattering tlie notes of the Herald reporter — wlio, you 
 may be sure was doing up the scene in a spicy fashion 
 — and pitching a bottle of ink incontinently into his 
 spotted shirt-bosom. The row ended in Jobson being 
 seized by a posscc of police and borne off ignomini- 
 ously to the Tombs, to ponder on the uncertainty of 
 all sublunary things in tliat cheerful looking Egyptian 
 temple. Tliis affair forms the snl'ject of two actions 
 for assault and battery, each of Me belligerents having 
 charged the other with bting tlie aggressor. The best 
 part of the scene was tliis, tliat while the melee was 
 at its hciglit, Lola was pouring out a tirade of abuse 
 on the head of the luckless Jobson, and the referee, 
 forgetting all liis judicial dignity, ran here and there 
 about tlie apartment in a wild manner, proclaiming 
 tlie reference adjourned, and washing his hands of the 
 whole affair. 
 
 The hard times this winter have interfered materi- 
 ally with the usual balls of our Irish military compa- 
 nies, many of them having decided not to impose any 
 expense on themselves not absolutely necessary for the 
 maintenance of discipline. You know how cheerfully 
 the gallant men who compose these companies sacri- 
 tice both time and money in the service of their 
 adopted country. Though for the most part obliged 
 to labor hard for their living they spare neither when 
 called upon to maintain the honor and digniiy of the 
 citizen soldiery. Only two or three of our Irish com- 
 panies gave balls tliis season. The Guyon Cadets, 
 commanded by Capt. Ilalpin, the crack company of 
 the Ninth Regiment, had a most successful ball at the 
 City Assembly Rooms — the finest ball-room iu New 
 York — on Monday evening the 1 5th inst. The 
 ' Guyons' are an old company and were formerly 
 commanded by the celebrated Michael Phelan, as 
 perfect a gentleman and as good an olineer as he is a 
 renowned billiard player. The Engineer Corps of the 
 69th Regiment ; the Emmett Life Guards, Captain 
 Lynch commanding, had a splendid ball at old Tam- 
 many at an earlier period of the season. 
 
 Col. Dolieny is to repeat his lecture on the 'Poets 
 and Poetry of Ireland' in Brooklyn this week, by 
 special request. The colonel's powers as a lecturer 
 are too well known in Boston to require any descrip- 
 tion from me. Always brilliant in fancy, handling 
 his subject with masteiiy care, diving into its intri- 
 cacies and unravelling them with a skill, which I 
 think has not been often equalled, and all this without 
 that study and preparation which lecturers usually 
 bestow upon their efforts, he certainly can lay claim 
 to a reputation which is not as widely acknowledged 
 as it ought to be. But in this particular lecture he 
 excels himself. It is in my opinion the ablest vindi- 
 cation of the genius of Irish song (if indeed it needs 
 any vindication,} and the truest portraiture of the 
 natioual poet?, their aims and their aspirations ever 
 spoken or published, and I am certain that your dis- 
 criminating friends in tlie American Athens would so 
 pronounce it if they could prevail upon Col. Doheny 
 to deliver it in your city. 
 
 Tliomas Francis Meagher is now on a lecturing 
 tour in the Wrst. At present he is on the far borders 
 of Indiana, after a visit to Cincinnati, where I learn 
 he was reeei\ed by a large audience, such as the Irish 
 population of the Queen Cily of the West can always 
 summon, when one of the gifted sons of the old land 
 proposes to address them. lie will lecture in New 
 York on his return. The third of March is fixed for 
 his lecture here. His subject will be an entirely new 
 one ; and I should judge more attractive than any on 
 which he yet lectured. Though not publicly announ- 
 ced, I am al>le to inform you that it will relate to the 
 inridents in his own brief but brilliant career in Ire- 
 land, from the time when first, almost a boy, he stood 
 forth in the front rank of her defenders until he was 
 banished from her shores wiili the honorable brand of 
 rebel and traitor on his forehead. 
 
 Your Miscellany is winning golden opinions liere. 
 From every quarter I hear commendations, not only 
 on the spirit which animates your enterprise, but on the 
 mode in which it is conducted. Your second number 
 exhibits such tokens of improvement upon the first 
 that a further progress in the right direction is assured 
 to your readers. AVitli regard to the engravings espe- 
 cially is this true; for though those in the first number 
 wore good, those in the second are still better. If yon 
 will accept of the opinion of so humble a citizen as 
 myself, just put it on record as regards your picture of 
 Brian Boiroihme. It is the only portrait of the gallant 
 hero of Clontarfand a thousand other fights, which 
 comes up to mj' ideal of the illustrious Bri.an, 'the fa- 
 ther of^iis country,' the exterminator of ilio foreign 
 foe. If we had such a man in our day and such a spir- 
 it in the people under his rule, what small work we 
 would make of the foe who are as foreign to Ireland as 
 the foe of Brian. 
 
 " Oh I for the swords of former days. 
 Oh for the men who bore them." 
 
 Apropos of the former days of Ireland. We have 
 been long in want of a popular edition of llie beautiful 
 melodies of our native land in this country ; and I am 
 glad to see that the Irish Miscellant is re-produc- 
 ing Moore's melodies with the music. This is an ex- 
 cellent idea. They should be in every Irish household 
 in the Union. The songs of a nation form a strong 
 ligature to bind the hearts of its children not only to 
 the land of their birth, but to each other scattered wide 
 over a foreign soil. 
 
 I am happy to be able to inform you that Mr. P. M. 
 Haverty of this city, who has already done much to 
 circulate Irish literature throughout this country by 
 his publication of some of the works of Ireland's best 
 authors ; by producing the life of Lord Edward Fitz- 
 gerald ; the lives of Thomas Addis, and Robert Em- 
 mett, and John O'Mahony's most able translation of 
 Keating's histoiy of Ireland — a work ten fold more 
 valuable than the original work of old Geoffrey Keat- 
 ing — is about contributing still more to the progress 
 of Irish literature. He is now about bringing out a 
 volume entitled ' A hundred Irish air.«, arranged for 
 the piano forte." Many of the airs to be comprised in 
 this volume have never been published before. It 
 will be got up in a popular and cheap form, and will 
 be illustrated hy a fine engraving from the celebrated 
 picture of ' the Blind Piper,' by the f.imous Irish paint- 
 er, Haverty. It is unhappily true that, in this country 
 the ' fashionable' musical trash of the present day is 
 to be found in abundance, but not one of the glorious 
 old melodies which made a world-wide reputation for 
 Ireland as the land of song; when her name was known 
 in every country in Europe, as the fountain from which 
 the purest harmony flowed. Of course this must be 
 so, as long as there was no facility to procure Irish 
 music; but henceforth I hope the latter ^\ill find a 
 prominent place in the homes of our countrymen on 
 this coniinent. Munster. 
 
 Athlone Feb. 3. — Bokial of a Nun — One of the 
 most solemn ceremonies of the Catholic church was 
 performed here this day. One of the holy commu- 
 nity of the Sisters of Mercy departed this life in the 
 convent of the order on Sunday last, after a protracted 
 illness. MIssLysaght, or, in religion, Sister Mary 
 Vincent, died at the age of 28 years. Our venerable 
 bishop, the Right Kev. Dr. Biowne, assisted by the 
 clergy of St. Peter's and St. Mary's, this day consecra- 
 ted a lie.auiiful Catholic cemetery, inclosed for the Sis- 
 ters within the convent boundaries, according to the 
 sublime ritual of the church. After solemn High Mass 
 within the convent, at whioh were assembled, besides 
 his lordship, his clergy, and the nuns, the members of 
 St. Vincent de Paul of St. Peter's parish, the remains 
 of the pious sister were borne to the ceinoicry by the 
 latter, wiih the clergy and nuns in procession, repeat- 
 ing the Rei|uiem and other sacred canticles, and de- 
 po>ited amidst the prayers of all in their lasting place. 
 Ilequioscat in pace. Amcu. 
 
 Written lor the Miscellany. 
 Oil, FOR A Sl'ELL! 
 
 It V DAKBY M'KEOAN. 
 
 OhI for ft .spell to transport me back 
 
 To my own dour imtivo laud ; 
 To those fairy Uells where tlie holy wells 
 
 Spring up through tlic golden saud. 
 
 To the blooming bowers where the sweetest flowers 
 
 That the human eye liath bocu ; 
 So ble.«Rcd by Nature's bounteous powers, 
 
 Adorns the vallics green. 
 
 To the mountftius high soaring to the sky, 
 
 Decked in their lordly pride; 
 To the sylvan streams, sweet as poet's dreams, 
 
 Flowing ouward to the tide. 
 
 To the lakes and bowers, to tlie pillar towers, 
 
 So romantic and so grand; 
 To the ratli and mound and holy ground 
 
 "Where the olden Cross doth stand. 
 
 To the giant's caves, to owr martyr's graces, 
 
 To the hunted friar's dell ; 
 Where the truthful and brave God's faith did save, 
 
 Despite of earth and Hell! 
 
 Oh, would I could see in that storied land, 
 
 Thes^een tlag waving High ; 
 And her children there united swear, 
 
 To drive out their foe or die. 
 
 To water the boAvers and smiling flowers 
 
 With red liot Saxon gore; 
 And free my land from that plundering band, 
 
 As Bricii did of yore. 
 
 NEWS FROM HOME. 
 
 KiLKEKNY. A man named John Walsh, aged 63 years, 
 from Ballyhumuck, near liigwood, county Kilkenny, was 
 in the forge of a blacksmith named James Haberlin, at Cats- 
 rock, same neighborhood, on the night of Tuesday week, 
 getting some borse shoes made by Haberlin's son, when 
 old Haberlin entered the forge, nearly drunk, and some al- 
 tercation arose between him and his son, whom lie attempt- 
 ed to strike. John Walsh interfered to make peace between 
 them, when old Haberlin pulled a bar of iron ontofthe 
 tire and struck Walsh with it on the head which knocked 
 him senseless. After he recovered a little he was carried 
 home to his mother's house where he died about six o'clock 
 next morning. — Kilkenny Journal. 
 
 Westmeath. The New Catholic Chukch of St. 
 Maet's Athlone— The erection of this temple of divine 
 worship is advancing with great celerity. The walls are 
 rising up rapidly, and will soon have reached their perman- 
 ent height. On Sunday last sub.=criptions were received at 
 St. Mary's Catholic church, in further aid of the funds for 
 its completion, and a large sum was collected. The very 
 liberal donations of many of the parishioners redounds to 
 their honor. Amongst the subsciptions were— J JIurtagh, 
 Esq. 50£; B Kilduff, Esq. (father of (he venerated Bishop of 
 Ardagh) 50£ P Rourk, Esq .J r,20.£ ; P Maxwell, Esq.20i &c. 
 The building when completed will be a very handsome one, 
 of great solidity, and with no small pretentions to architect- 
 ural beauty. 
 
 Down. — Mr. Dennis Holland has become sole editor 
 and proprietor ot the LIslcrman, a journal hitherto con- 
 ducted by him with marked ability. 
 
 We {Bdfiist Merciiri/) understand that George Fjtz- 
 maurice and George Goold, Esqr's, 11. M., have been 
 ordered to Belfast hy the government to invesiigate the 
 conduct of the constabulary with respect to the Sep- 
 tember riots, but more particularly touching their not 
 trying to prevent the burning of property iu Albert 
 crescent. 
 
 Our rivals across the Channel will not be incited to 
 jealousy by learning that we are making progress iu 
 Belfast in this branch of industry. We have an eleven 
 hundred ton clipjier completed for launching — another 
 of nine hundred tons ready to put into frame — and a 
 fine steamer, the Troubadour, lately plying between 
 Wexford and Bristol, and formerly between Livtrpool 
 and Bristol, about to be hauled on the patent slip. 
 Queen's I.-land, for thorough rcpiiir, and, it is stated, 
 to be lengthened, by Messrs, Hickson & Co. A con- 
 temporary, not ipiiie an authority upon nautical mat- 
 ters, gives the longitudinal dimensions of the new clip- 
 per as la.") feet, instead of 17.i — as being aAvare that 
 the former mea,surement would apply to a vessel of on- 
 ly 450 tons or thereabouts, instead of to a craft of 1,100 
 tons. — Banner of UUler. 
 
46 
 
 IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 A NEW YEAR'S SONG. 
 
 BV D. K. JI'CARTIIV, 
 
 Author of The FotW ami Dinmntials oflrclnnd., 
 
 My countrymen, nwHkc! nrlre! 
 
 I)ur work be^inj anew, 
 Your nihi};lcd voicoti rend the 9kio8, 
 
 Your hcttrts ar« lirm aud Iruo, 
 You've bnively lunrchej, n»d nobly met. 
 
 Our lillo green it\u through; 
 But, oh: my friends, there's something yet 
 
 Kor Irishmen to do; 
 
 As long AS Erin hears the clink 
 
 Ur baiw ignoble chuint— 
 As long as one detested link 
 
 or foreign rule ri'imiiiis— 
 As long as ofour riglitful debt 
 
 One smallest Iraetiou's due. 
 So long, my friends, there's something yet 
 
 For Irishmen to do'. 
 Too long we've borne the servile yoke- 
 Too long the slavish chain- 
 Too long in feeble accents spoke, 
 
 Aud ever spoke in vain — 
 Our wealth has filled the spoiler's net, 
 
 And gorg'd the Saxon crew ; 
 Hut, oh; my friends, we'll teach them yet 
 
 What Irishmen can do; 
 The olive branch is in our hands, 
 
 The white flag floats above; 
 I'eace— peace pervades our myriad bauds, 
 
 And proud forgiving love; 
 But, oh; let not our foes forget 
 
 We're mm, as Chriitians, too, 
 prepared to do for Ireland yet 
 
 What Irishmen should do: 
 
 There's not a man of all our land 
 
 Our couutry now can spare. 
 The strong man with his sinewy hand, 
 
 The weak man w ith his prayer- 
 No whining tone of mere regret. 
 
 Young Irish bards, for you; 
 But let your songs teach Ireland yet 
 
 What Irisluuen should do; 
 And whcresoc'erthat duty lead, 
 
 There— there your post should be; 
 The coward slave is never freed ; 
 
 The brave alone are free — 
 Oh; Frei^doni, firmly fixed arc set 
 
 Our longing eyes on you; 
 And though we die for Ireland yet, 
 
 So Irishmen should do;* 
 • This Song Drst appeared in the Katioh Newspaper. 
 
 Elephants in a Forest.— The elephants came 
 nearer and nearer. We disiliargcd our rifles ia the 
 air, the Bedouin?, applvinjr their bucklers to their lips, 
 gave utterance to cries reverberating in the most terri- 
 fic manner. There was a moment of silence, as though 
 the monstrom herd had liesitatid ; soon it resumed 
 its course, anl overwhelmed the spot wc had just quit- 
 ted like n torrent whose every drop should be aj^ignn- 
 tie block of biV'nlt. The valley was too narrow for 
 this huge procession of freaiures pushing each other 
 with terrific snorts, and vioUnt blows of trunks resoun- 
 ding from each others hides. Their tread shook the 
 earth' the up-orn forest bowed beneath their feet, and 
 enormous branches split with a terrible crash. The 
 air whittled with the oscillations of the summits of the 
 trees, the roosting birds were hurled from their perches 
 like bullet.9 from a sling. The hyena and jackal fled 
 with yells of terror. The reports of our rifles mi;^ht 
 hive been taken for signal guns half drowned in a 
 Biorm. 
 
 When we resumed our rou'e next morning, our 
 path was interrupted at each step by a fallen tree ; 
 enormous branches, han;.ing by strips of bark, threat- 
 ened to fall upon us at every instant ; » lierever the gi- 
 gantic herd has pissed, the valley seemed devastated 
 by the fury ofa tempest — Travtis iu India. 
 
 Prentice says that the fault wiili the female Yankee 
 teachers who go westward, is that instead of teaching 
 other people's children, they soon get to teaching their 
 own. 
 
 If you desire to be wiser, think not yourself wise 
 enough. 
 
 FoLLOWiNO Sdit.— It is said that tliere were in 
 England a lai-gcr number of marriages on the hridul 
 day of the Princess Royal than wore ever known to be 
 celebrated in otic day before. 
 
 P. M. Haverty, 110 Fulton street, is bringing 
 oat Carletou's last novel—' The Ulaek Baronet ; or, 
 the Chronicles of Ballytrain,' which will be issued in 
 a few days. 
 
 When Dr. 11. and Sergeant A. were walking arm- 
 in-arm, a wag observed to a friend, ' Those two are 
 just equal to one highwayman.' ' Why so 1 ' was the 
 response. Because,' rejoined the wag, ' it a lawyer 
 and a doctor — your money or your life.' 
 
 A young lady in one of the leading circles at Wash- 
 ington, was complimented by a gentleman on the sim- 
 plicity and good taste of her dress at an evening party. 
 She replied, ' 1 am ghul you like my dress ; it cost 
 just seven dollars, and I mdde every stitch of it myself ' 
 When young ladies pride themselves upon the cheap- 
 ness of their attire, instead of its expensiveness, we 
 shall have fewer ' broken ' fathers and husbands. 
 
 Revolting DiscLOstntE. — An advertisement in 
 the Liverpool Daily Post states that an active servant 
 is wanted, ' who must be a plain cook and able to dress 
 a little boy five years old.' Are the advertisers canni- 
 bals? And (we ask only for information) with what 
 sauce do they eat little boys five years old 1 So says 
 Punch. We often see little boys in this country, with 
 cigars in their mouths, ' ready to spit.' 
 
 The landlord of an artist in Clonmel called upon his 
 tenant for his rent. The Tipperary painter excused 
 himself, but said he had a job, which, wlien finished, 
 would discharge his debt. The landlord asked him 
 what the job was. The artist said it was a sign, order- 
 ed by a neighboring squire, /■VuiV onrf(/ie Z^ewV, for a 
 a beer-shop in Clonmel adding, ' I will ask Father 
 Mooney to stand for the friar, if you, sir, will be kind 
 enough to stand for the other gentleman.' 
 
 Conspiracies Against Foreign Sovereigns. — 
 The London Post says ; — We feel as certain as belief 
 can make us, that the Government must and will pro- 
 pose on the opening of parliament a measure for the 
 punishment of political assassins.' The ZVmes points 
 out that murder is a crime to the moral sense of all 
 mankind, — not so, the attempt to change a form of 
 government. So, while we need not make it equally 
 a crime to plot a revolution at home or in some foreign 
 country, there is much to be said for making it crim- 
 inal to compass muider, whoever and wherever the 
 intended victim. 
 
 A lady said to her friend, who was about going in- 
 to the store of a very excellent merchant who has 
 paid his notes, 'Don't go in to that store to buy any- 
 thing; they haven't failed yet.' 
 
 Beau Briimmel was loading the paper one day at 
 Long's — a genilem.in standingnearhim sneezed three 
 times; after the tliiid spasm, Mr. Brummel called out, 
 ' Waiter, bring me an umbrella. I can bear this no 
 longer.' 
 
 If you desire to be wiser, think not yourself wise 
 enough. 
 
 A Fearfdl Situation wirn Snakes. — What 
 was the spiral thing that rolled and unrolled itself at 
 the end of a branch, some inches from my face ? A 
 slender serpent some two feet in length, yellow as a 
 dead leaf, with a black stripe on the spine. Let it 
 bite the most robust man, and he is dead in a few 
 hours. I bounded hack. But bow shall I describe 
 my terror on seeing the ground at my feet, the 
 branches over my head, the trunks at my side, alive 
 with hundreds upon hundreds of these reptiles, some 
 motionless as a corpse, others slowly wavering in the 
 sunbeams that filtered through the leaves ! I felt the 
 fascination of Medusa ; overcome with fear, I would 
 have given the world for a free p.iss.iire and power to 
 fly. Vet I seemed rooted to this perilous ground, not 
 daring to make a step for fear of contact with some if 
 ihesc horrible animals. My legs, feet, chest and arms 
 were hare, wlii^li made my position yet more danger- 
 ous. Neverihelcss, something must bo done. Mak- 
 
 ing myself as small as possible, that the least twig 
 might not be touched ; gathering the folds of my 
 mantle around me, and sbiiddeiing lest they might 
 inclose a serpent ; measuring every space with my 
 eye; now on all fouri, iiow striking down an erected 
 head with the butt of my rillu ; now bounding over a 
 f.illen trunk whose cavities seemed alive with snakes 
 — I struggled on for some five minutes, which seemed 
 an age. At leng'h, the ground becoming clearer, I 
 began running like a madman through the brakes in 
 which I bail just found it so difiiciilt to walk. A few 
 bounds brought me on the dry bed of the torrent, ten 
 steps from our tent. I had had hunting enough for 
 one day. 
 
 A very good story is told of Judge Henderson of 
 Texas. lie was a candidate for oflice and visited a 
 frontier county, in which he was a stranger. Hear- 
 ing that a trial for felony wou'd take place in a few 
 days, he determined to volunteer for the defence. The 
 prisoner was charged wiih having stolen a pistol. 
 The volunteer counsel conducted the case with g^eat 
 ability. He confused the witness, palavered the court, 
 and made an able, eloquent and successful argument. 
 The prisoner was acquiied. The counsel received the 
 enthusiastic applause of the audience. His innocent 
 client av.iilcd himself of the earliest interval of the hur- 
 ricane of congratulations to take his counsel aside. 
 ' My dear sir,' said he, ' yon have saved me, and I am 
 very grateful ; I have no money, do not e.xpcct to have 
 any, and do not expect ever to see you again ! but, to 
 show that I apprei iate your services, you shall have 
 the pisol! ' So saying, he drew from his pocket and 
 presented to the astoni»hed attorney the very pistol 
 which he had just shown_he had never stolen or had in 
 his possession. 
 
 A great many people never think when they are reading: 
 they just run over the words and thus go over a volume 
 without any impression being left on the mind. Y*ct fome 
 of these people would iaugh at the man who borrowed a 
 dictionary from a neighbor, believing it to be a novel or a 
 romance, and after patiently reading it, said, 'this is the 
 strangest author 1 ever met with ; he never writes three lines 
 on the same subject.' 
 
 CARLETOS'.S BEST NnVF.L. The ULACK HARON- 
 ET; Or, tiK- Cliroiiic'es uf Hallx Irnili. Mr. Uonahoe, 
 of Huston, will issue from his .'Slcnii 1. iiiliTig I'rcsics on 
 the nth of Fibrnarv, llie above lii;;lilv jiiiiMilar book. Tho 
 Ibllowing are a lew of the opiiiioi.s of the Irish pret« upon 
 this very exciting and thrilling story. 
 
 From the Dublin Freeman' .Tovrnal. 
 
 " The public have been for sometime on the tiptoe of ex- 
 pectation (or Oarleton's new work. They have been prom- 
 ised " Ciirletoirs greatest work," and iu this, too, their an- 
 ticipations have been luirillcd. The •'Black Baionct" is 
 reullv farleton's rhrf iliauvr,: and it will undoubtedly take 
 its place among the' master-pieces of fiction. It is a pro- 
 duction in which Carletou has surpassed hiluEclf." 
 From the Dublin Wation. 
 
 " Of all Carleton's Novels, this in our judgment is by far 
 the best. The •■ Hiack Haronet." had he wiitten no other 
 work, would cnlille Carlelon to the foremost place among 
 our Irish novelists, for in the whole range of ll.eir juo- 
 ductions, they have not pimhiced iinvlhing to equal this." 
 Fr„m th, Dublin T.lel-rnjih. 
 
 "Mr. Carlelon holds in nianv re-peels, the highest place 
 a.s a national novelist, and if ni:iUnuihle piool of this were 
 still wanting, the aviditv with which hi... productions aie 
 soujht niter and read in Ireland, Mould as strongly es- 
 tablKh his title to pre-eminence, as it would alfoicl unde- 
 ii):il)le (-vi(le)tee or his j>opuIarity as an accurate and jaith- 
 ImI (iilineator of the manners, customs, and sentiments of 
 his eonutrvnien. The work before us is replete with the 
 authors excellencies, whilst his defect.'!, as a writer of «c- 
 
 . are fe 
 
 of his jiri 
 
 nd more fur between in this, than in any 
 
 'iiiue the.ce extracts from the Irish press, 
 lull ilu- iilicne iipiiiiiins of the leading journals of the Irith 
 nll■l^l|,l)li^. w ill Mill le to show what .the work is that has 
 IxTii ]iiiI)];v|i,m| ill I)uhtin. and re-prodnced, iu beautiful 
 su If. In .Mr. Doiiahoe, of Boston. The book is embellith- 
 iil wiih iwii engravings, aud is sold for the low jiricc of 
 s.'vcnn-ils.eeut.s. 
 
 , -It will he sent to any part of the United States and 
 Brilish I'ci.^f— ions, postage pai<l, on the reception of seven- 
 ty-live ec-lils in >l:iinp>^. 
 
 *,*f'Iiit'< uiiw I'l- Inrnied in cities or towns for the book 
 To elnhs of six. I he hook will be sent for S3.60. Clubs ot 
 twelve. SG.iRi. In each case, the person ordering for the 
 club must pay expense of tliinspi>rtati»ui. 
 
 I'ATUICK DONAHUE. 23 Franklin St., 
 
 [Fou Sale by all BotiKSLLLEKS.j Boston. 
 
 rp.. 
 
 SE. .SANBORN. Wholesale and Retail Dealer in Gold 
 • and mlver Watciii-s. Jewelkv, Silver Ware, 
 Fancy Goods.', &c. No. 1»I Federal Stieet. Boston. 
 
 [Ct* rnrticular attention given to Repairing Watches, 
 Clocks, .Jewelry, &c. ftc. febl3 
 
 WIlTl.lA.M.-^S; ( ().. Wholesale Agents, for the Irish 
 . MisriM ANY. I he 'iKide supplied with Books, 1 e- 
 riodieai- :iiiii New .-papers, .s^pecial Agents for Harp.er & 
 Brothers I ubliculiuus. No. lUO Washington street. 
 
 feb20 JiOHTOH. 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 47 
 
 ADVEKTISEMENTS. 
 
 
 T. & A would inform Publisher?, Authors and rrinfers, 
 that they are prepured to undertake^all orders for De&ign- 
 iug, Briiwiiig;, and Enpavhijf, from a single illustration to 
 a iSeries of any extent, for Books and Neu-'^paiiers with a 
 strict regard to superior worknuinship and moderate charges 
 
 PMORKIS, ArOTHECAKY, Corner Federal and Fur- 
 • chase strL-ets. foot of .Summer ;-trcet, '^,osTo^^ 
 Strict persoual attention paid to eompuunding I*hypician''s 
 Prescriptions. A choice selection of Family Mkdicixes 
 constantly on hand. A well selected .Stock of ffeniiine im- 
 ported Verfumery and Fancy Goods. .Soda Water with 
 choice Svrups. A large assortment of Oenuiue Havana 
 Cigars constantly on hand. feb 13 
 
 PX. KEAXrN'G, Designer and E^•GKAVERON Wood, 
 • >"o. 2 Spring Lane, lioSTON At Jackson & Foynes. 
 
 w 
 
 HY BUKN (.AS BY DAYLIGUT ? STEPHEN 
 
 KOE & (.(.)., IiivL-iitors Diid Jlaiiufactuiers of tlie 
 I.Mrr.ovED i>AYLioiiT ]!kflictok, lor diffufiDg the 
 liualtliv light or ihiv iiilo all dark places. Ko. 23 State St., 
 Boston, and Ao. .ji I'ark street, Baltimore. 
 K. B. Call aud see it iu operation. 6m febl3 
 
 G 
 
 ILMOKES SALEJI QUADKILLE BAND. E. UP- 
 
 TTUN, Jr., Prompter. Apply to P. S, Gijljioee, Es- 
 
 Houte, .Salem, 3Iass. 3ni lebl3 
 
 D 
 
 (lOLEY'S JIEKCHANTS- EXCHANGE HOTEL, 
 State Street, Boston, couducted upon the European 
 plan. 
 
 QI/^Room?, per dav — 50 cents. Lodjjiug — 25 cents. 
 _ P. S. After the 1ft of April next, Mr. Dooley will move 
 to bis New Hotel, No. 25 Portland street. febl3 
 
 Wn.LIA_M3IANNlN(i. .<];.M-.i.N & FuxEEAL UxDEK 
 TAKER Of the Unr.-lH.-HT < Mliolic Cemetery, woulc 
 inform his friends and tl:e imlilie, tliut lie ki/i|.s euiistanth 
 on hand :nid nniniihieHlies to nnier. i-uli i- ■•'. :,<■ -i/es anS 
 
 €112 
 
 Usij" 
 
 ' plates 
 
 SUPEKIS BOOKS ! D. & .1. SADLILK S: ( ().. invite the 
 attention of Booksellers. Dealers, tiiiil the ]inl.lic in (.Gen- 
 eral, to their supcib collection of Siandnnl (jilhnlic Wurk-s .' 
 
 The followin-- elciant collection of Prayer Books, pub- 
 lished Willi the approbation of His Eminence Cardinal Wi.-e- 
 man. Aictilii-In>i» ol' Westminster, and the Most Kev. John 
 Un^'he-. 1>. 1>.. .\rchbishopofNew York. 
 
 t,01.1)i;.N .M.\.Nl"EB: Boiiif? a guide to Catholic devo- 
 tions public anil private. The most complete Praver Book 
 in anv Iaiigiia},'e. U steel lugravings. Price, SI to S25. 
 
 THE WAY Ti 1 UEA VI;N : A select manuel of pvavers 
 for daily use. 9 steel engravings. Price, from 50 cents to 
 S20. 
 
 BUTLERS LIVES OF THE SAINTS: 4 Volumes, Svo., 
 29 engravings, from So to SHi. 
 
 UABDEN OFTHKSOUL: A manuel of fervent praver.e. 
 for the use of Catholics. 10 steel engraviugs. Price, hom 
 
 50 
 
 ts to 153. 
 TilK PATH TO PARADISE: Or, 'Way of Salvation.— 
 
 ntsto 
 
 TIIK AI.fAl; :.l.\MKL: Or. Instructions and Devotion.'! 
 forConle.^ri.insand Coininnnioii, with visits to the Blessed 
 Sacrament, ftc. Pi ice. from 7.3 cents to !?3. 
 
 (iATE OK HEAVliX: Or, way of tlie Child of Mary; 
 with pravers at Mass, illustrated. I'rice, fiom 20 cculs to 
 SI 60. 
 
 HADLTEUS FIRESIDE LIBRARY, inmo. volume.", 
 400 pages, with a steel portrait in each. Price 50 cents ; gilt, 
 75 cents. 
 
 No. 1. THE ORPHAN OF MOSCOW: Or, the Young 
 Governe.ss. A Tale. Translated from the Pi euch of Mad- 
 ame Woille?. !"■ Mr- .1 SmIh..,.. 
 
 No 7. TALl-i 1 1 Ml I MKsr.NSES: ByGeraldGrif- 
 fln. With .-^ir ; I , - ■ .Vinbor. 
 
 No. 8. Tl 1 i ;.l. I'll ■. nr. 1 he Red Well, and other 
 Tales of Irish L.:.. l;. '\ ..M.a.i Carleloil. 
 
 The attention .dilii trade is solicited to their .stock of 
 cverv variety and style nl \eUet Prayer Books, which have 
 ju.st been icci-iMd tn.ni l'ari<. 
 
 No. 13. lllKliiiilJSt IliiLAR: Aud Other tales of Irish 
 Life. Bv Willijiii 1 iir'.h.n. 
 
 D. ft .r. S.VDI.li:i: .'i I .1 . New York. IIVI William street: 
 Boston. 1281>dei;ii>tri-. . ; .Montreal, or» Her of Notre Damc 
 audit. Iraucis Xavier btieetn. feblS 
 
 AMUSEMENTS, 
 
 MdliHlS BKol'llli'.US, PELL & HUNTLEY'S MIN- 
 .SIHKI.SI ( If EUA Housji— School Street, opposite 
 iMiiiiklin Monnnienl. 
 
 The ahuie Coinpaiiv commenced their Series of tlniqiie 
 lilirleMiiie Isllii.ipiiin .■\l,l:in;!(s un.MllMl.W FA' IC.M N ( . , 
 .l:in. nil, is:,.':, iinil will ecuiliniir riir\ cMiiin;; iinil Snlur- 
 
 ihiv .MUr .11 dlirin-llir m.|i,.,,ii. I 1,,'. hall I,:,.., |„.,.n beiill- 
 
 tilnllv mie.l lip, iiii.l llie .Miiiia-eis i.ledt;e theliiseUesthiit 
 no pains sini II be waul in- ui, ilnir jiart to lender this the 
 place of amnsenniil In, in,- plai-oiii- public. 
 
 Cards of admission, u:, ceni.^ : chihiren under ten years, 
 15 cecils. 
 
 lly-Doors open at 6 3-4 o'clock ; performance commenc- 
 ing at 7 1-2. LON 3IOKK1S & J. T. HUNTLEV, 
 
 febl3 tf Business Maiiagera. 
 
 PKOSPECTUa. 
 
 TlilSH MISCELLANY. Pn,.,«riii., On .Saturday the 
 X l.ilhday ol February ]Hr,s, „,|| l,,. laiblished the iirst 
 iMUniber ol anew weekly pel iniliial, u iin the above title, 
 deiliciiled to the dilhision of a inure intimate knowledge ol 
 the lUiKiiy and political history of Ireland, and to the 
 nnnial, moral and political elevation of the Celtic race ou 
 
 (XKliW .\V HALL, \Vashingtou street, nearly opposite 
 .? III. ■■ Old .South.'' Ninth Regular Season. Manager, 
 J. r, oni.w.vv. 
 l.via;-, I:\im\oTiiisWeeic. Messrs. Bowers & Bud- 
 
 wnilli uninil liiisl.v ft Woinis' Jlinslrels), the celebrated 
 i;iliin|iiaii ( nnir,[iaii>, Mill ajiprar ill eniijuuction with Ord- 
 
 wai ■- .Ijil.l \ -s^. s.,,. -inall lulls cai'li day. 
 !: fi.k.-|s i;-, iThts-Cliildren halliiriee. 
 Duors open at 3-1 oclock : To commence at 7 1-2. fl3 
 
 'fin 
 printed 1 
 pectus 
 
 proper 
 the gn 
 We lia 
 
 ■ In^l, MhnUr, 
 
 ■ill 
 
 ;l.n|,ul 
 
 "I'l" 
 
 rnntain 11^ Jiages of closely 
 t a i.i iiiiinir to this jiros- 
 
 '•■ -I'll' "11 'alivery j or $2 a 
 
 or the tnnk Miscellany^ it is 
 intention to trcFpass upou 
 
 M. 
 
 FOUNTAIN HOUSE. A TEMPERANCE HOTEL, cor- 
 ner of HaiTrison Avenue and Beach Stieets, near the 
 Worcester and Old Coloiiv Railroad Depot, Boston. 
 Teums— One dollar and twentv-live cents per day. 
 fcl)13 11. F. GARDNER, M. D., Proprietor. 
 
 S' 
 
 TACKPOLE H(U;sE, Willia.h Stoke. Corner Milk 
 , and Devonshire streets, BoSToK. 
 ir7=Europeaii Papers ou tile. feb 13 
 
 DOROURKE, respectfully informs his friends and the 
 . public, that he keeps constantly ou hand COFFINS 
 of all sizes and kinds, at his Cotiiu Manufactory, No. 347 
 Federal, between Beach and Kneelaud Streets, Boston, 
 which he will sell as reasonable as can be bought at any oth- 
 er place in the city. 
 
 N. B.— Orders punctually attended to, day or night. 
 
 Residence, No. 28 South street, Boston. 
 
 O^G rave-Clothes furnished to order at short notice. 
 
 Iebl3 
 
 ANY' of the following works, published by P. M. HAV- 
 ERTY, 110 Fulton street. New Yokk, w-ill be sent free 
 by mail, ou receipt of the amount in money or postage 
 stamps: — 
 
 RE.MINESCENSES OF AN EinCRANT MILESIAN. 
 The Irish Abroad and at Home; with Souvenirs of the Brig- 
 ade. One Vol.. 12 mo., cloth. Price, Sfl.tO. 
 
 1II1'.K1;N!.\N NIGHTS' ENTERTAINMENTS: By 
 Sanin.l In uii.-on, LL.D., Editor of the Dublin Universi- 
 ty Ma-a/inr. ILi inc., cloth, 564 pages. Price 151.25. 
 
 l,.M.Mi;i ; files of Robert and Thomas Addis Emmet, 
 witii a nnninir nf Hnliert Holmes. Twoportraits ousted, 
 
 DA\1S S 1 ( iKMs : With an introduction by John Mitch- 
 ell. IS mo,, elmh p,,,st. Pi ice. 38 cents. 
 
 FITZGERALD: Thomas Moore's Life of Lord Edward 
 Fitzgerald. 12mo., cloth. Price, 75 cents. 
 
 WII " " 
 
 2 vols, in one. Price, 60 cents. 
 
 1". M. H. will also send any of the publications of P. 
 Donahue, of Boston : Dunigan or Sadlier of New Y'ork, by 
 mail ou the same terms. febl3 
 
 BS. TRF:AN0R, ATTORNEY anu COUNSELLOR 
 • AT LA\Y, 15 Massachusetts Block, Court Souare, 
 Boston. ' 
 
 [CT^-Particular attention paid to Conveyancing, and the 
 examination of titles of Real Estate. I(!bl3 
 
 MEAtilIEK & CAMPBELL, Attoeseys and CoUN- 
 SELEous At Law, No. 39 and 41 Aun street, near 
 Nassau, New York. 
 
 NOTARY PUBLIC, Commissioner for the United 
 .States Court of Claims. Tho.mas Fuanc is .AIjach- 
 EK, having formed a partnership with Malcl.m (AMnnELL, 
 for the General Pracliee of the Law. the linn vill eontinne 
 t" i' ■- "■. II -li- altrnlion to such law bli^ine>s ;is inav be in- 
 
 i.f Ne 
 
 II tin 
 
 I aiieady oeeii|ijed by any of our cotemporawe.?. 
 
 ■"'' ""• I'M .Ml I selves a course entiicly new and 
 
 in.. II. . I ...MMii i,..| by any .itl.er publication in this 
 na'tm li; ^^^'^ I'";!";"'/.;"" " "^■"" -I'l "liieb, although 
 
 Jhu"eiriin;;.'i;;';i\,.i^?i;i;;:;Mii;.;'!;;;!;';^;l,,?'i;;;;:;:;v:^ 
 
 cuniparalu ely bai u n and uiipi oUiiclive. Intu this held we 
 shall enter with a lull coiihdence uj its capabilities, but with 
 a modest dittidence of the skill which we shall brim; to its 
 culture. " 
 
 It has long been a reproach to nnr men here, that while 
 the publicalnins of the dav. Willi but i.iv .■■- c. nli.n.^ teem 
 with vile cariindinesornV ami nl.air .Miu r 1 1 , -„ b'lle we 
 are continually hehl iiii to public ^a.., a- .i en il.iii.- that is 
 foolish, absorb and \icious— but lutie eiiuit isniaucMoplace 
 the true character of our people beture the public eye, or 
 vindicate our name aud race from the calumnies with which 
 English hale every wlieie pursues us. 
 
 To correct, in some measure, this crving evil, it was at 
 first intended to gather together a number of Irishmen dis- 
 tinguished iu the walks oJ literature, and publish monthly 
 a review, which, for sterling talent, should be second to 
 none published here or in Fnorpe. The great expense con- 
 sequent upon an iin.l. iiakiii- 01 this magnitude, deterred US 
 fromtheattenipl, .•.,ni|i.l...l us to relinquish our design, 
 and to substilnie msieail thereof, our more unpreteudiuff 
 ^'- Miscellany.'^ ° 
 
 We propose to re-produce in our weekly periodical the 
 writings of many of the great minds who have gone before 
 us. while we shall also cull from the current liish litera- 
 ture of the day, such productions of merit cannot fail to be 
 accaptable to our readers v/.ir country is rich in le^endry 
 lore, and the legends of the old land, while they amuse 
 serve to instruct and to elevate. 
 
 We shall fherefoie publish such instructive tales and le- 
 gends of a high moral tone, that will remind us of the har>. 
 py times when we — ^ 
 
 " Sat by the fire of a cold Winter's night. 
 Along with our friends telling talcs of delight " 
 
 We shall give faithful desriptions and illustiations of 
 Inshantiquities— of our ruind monasteries, our plundered 
 abbeys and cluiiches ; and our pictorial ilustrations ol Irish 
 scenery and anti.iuities will present to lovint; mii.ds many 
 familiar scenes ot early eliil.ilmud. We have secured the 
 services of talei.te.l ailist,., and each number of the M/Vrf- 
 toiywill contain niiniei uus picturial illustiations cvecuted 
 in the best style ol art. 
 
 W"e shall keep constantly before our readers the ancient 
 glory of our country, and while we pondcrwilh pride upon 
 the moral and intellectual superiority of Ireland wi.en 
 linglaiid and the rest of Europe was sunk in ignorance and 
 bartarism ; we shall point to the past as an incentive to the 
 future. 
 
 The biographies of distinguished Irishmen will be an im- 
 poitant feature in the Irish Miscdlavy, as we shall .'ive bio- 
 graphical notices of Irishmen, distinguished iu t"very de- 
 partment of liteiattiie, .science and art— of men distin "nich- 
 ed on the sea aud ou laud ; iu the church, the seuate" «ud 
 at the bar. ' 
 
 It is our intention to republish the works of Irish writers 
 now out of print, in such a manner that tliev niav be pie- 
 served to luture time as a memento of the 'old land and 
 serve to iucalculatc, in the minds of the rising generation, . 
 a hlial regal d lor the land of their fatheis. 
 
 AVe propose commencing with the DuMin Penny .ToumaL 
 a work which 111 Its (lav .-njoyed unbounded popularity. 
 AU- shall devote one ball ... II:.. i'.„.,//r™,, to each number 
 
 of that national pii vn-,. i,, .„ this we have ordered a 
 
 flint ol type 111 liisli.l.: I ;;t the poems printed 
 
 m t lat.Juurnal in tia. ■ , : , ^ .. can be reprinted in 
 fn.-h chaiacliMs villi I,;. .,:.], , i .ii,.|afi.^n in ours This 
 department ..111..- M<^ ,.'„ uri !,.■ in ll.- lands ofan Irish 
 
 title 
 
 nisa-ain.st the Unitial .stales in tli.- I', .in I .if ( Iniii,-. 
 /--.Mr. .Meagher inav be onsnlu.l .iaih ..ii l.nv llii-i 
 - on/,/, at Nos. 311 and 11 Ann street, lioln thlee till liv 
 oek P. .M. lebl;3 
 
 THE BOSTON STEAM JOB PRINTING ESTABLISH- 
 .MICM'. No. 2 Spring Lane, aie always prepared toex- 
 every description, in the 
 
 eciili' 
 
 rilir. .lOB rill.NflM 
 
 ■M .Ill r..-l,MM II ll.illM lailK ai-ds; BankCliecks; 
 
 C..l....al liiii.iiiL'; ( iienlaiM Iri-ial Signs; Bill Heads; 
 Labels; (aids of all kinds; Flock Work. Itc, kc. ,tc. ex- 
 ecuted with a beauty of style aud finish unei|iialled liv any 
 Establishnicut in the couutry. W. 1!. .l.\(KS(lN, 
 
 T. P. FOVM'.S. 
 •am I'riiiliii-oll.-e. 
 
 Proprietors of the Boston SI 
 
 KKLl.Y & ( UNMNGHAJI. 1:1 1,1. 1 . 
 tiibiitors, Xo.2 Williams c.inii, I;.. 
 of all the Hil.i. I;.. Anns in Tin: I i iv. 
 
 Auction, SLalnl..,!,!. 
 Owing to the gii.at 
 
 1111,111 ..1 l;..-l..ii ami N. Yoik, 
 .. .1 ih. ir la.ilitiesfor Posting 
 ,' I ill. th., Concert, Lecture, 
 
 ..... „ — e in their business, they have 
 
 oeeii ooiiged to add horses and wagons to their heretofore 
 ample accommodations, to which tTiey give their personal 
 attenlion. 
 
 %*I'liankful for past favors they would respectAilIy so- 
 licit a continuance of public patronage. 
 
 KELLY & CUNNINGHAM, 2 Williams Court, 
 febl3 Boston. 
 
 TAN.MCH, IJALITX & ((JMI'ANV, DiuKi touy Pcb- 
 LI81IEKS, Ai*\'1:i;tisi.\o and Coi,1.K( rtxtj .\r;ENT9. No. 
 10 South Clark stleet. ( hiea'.-o. Illinois. compihTs of D. B. 
 Cooke & CoV. City ai d Busine.-s Directory . Chicago. Di- 
 rectories compiled for Local Publi-'heis iii'any part of the 
 Western Statct'. Henuv I^annei:. Ju. 
 
 TitojiAS .M. llAi.nx, 
 Ghlcajo, Feb. IS Ai.i.ax Coorr.n. 
 
 II .• /,-,,./, 
 polilieal p: 
 lect . 
 
 i:;l.l |.a,-.^..llli.. .u, -,.„„,„ will be devo- 
 l.eus ..1 ll;y .lay .1., ongii.al ailicles, tales, 
 . In politics Me shall endeavor to avoiti 
 Inch have divided our countrymen, or 
 nanner void of otleiice. " 
 
 .((//will be thuiou-hlv independent of all 
 
 
 
 I tl..- Ill 
 
 ■-lai.' ..I n..ii.- siu-li .|Ueslions as af- 
 I i.. 1., ".■ ,-liaM .li,-eii>s ivith freedom, 
 l..rll,. iiniuial,inlelkelualand politi- 
 
 is will 1... divided among. several gentle- 
 u.'lnr-lt.i make the jl/«r,-//„,,,/a wel- 
 .•M.l,(,l,.,eiy family. With these ic- 
 
 marls we coinnunil ..nr ,sl I l., il,... ,.n]iport of every well 
 
 wisher ol our race. \\r I. .1 il . ... i- ,oum for such a pub- 
 lication and pr,.niise 11,1 linn, ,-l,all be wimting on our 
 
 part to make It won li\ ..! i.nlili,. -iiip,,,t. 
 
 JACKSON, ioVNL.s & CO., FUBllSHERS, 
 2 Spring Lane, Boston. 
 ^[E77 Communications to Editors to be uddiessed— Care of 
 Publishers, 2 Spring Lane, Boston. 
 
 PRINTED and PUBLISHED by Jackson, Foynes, & Co., 
 Ko. 2 Spuing Lane,— BOSTON. 
 
 RATES OF ADVERTISING. 
 
 FOR EACH SQUARKOF TWELVE LINES. 
 
 First insertion, . . . Sl.OO I Three months, . , Sj-, 00 
 
 Each subsequent do. . COIOueycur, .... jc ijo 
 
 Six lines or less constitute half a square. 
 
 Larger advertisements charged in proportion. 
 
 Business Notices, solid ... 10 cents per line 
 
 " " Icf.ded ... 15 " " 11 
 
 BUSINESS CARDS of si.y lines ok less. 
 
 For One .Month, . . . .'l.oO I Six Months, . So 00 
 
 Three Jlontlis, . . . §3.00 | One Year, .... ssicO 
 
 *,*AI1 advertisements payable in advance. 
 
ciSi><^ 3^ Jii 
 
 Ifliisic toniposci) c.vprx$sli) far t|e IrisI] piscellnim. 
 
 I^OETI^^y .j^n>TID 3VEXJSIC B "^S' J. "AAT" . T XJ I^ HST E IR- 
 
 A FFETI'OSO, 
 
 -...:i'-.. 
 
 A r r c ■ V'lvr^ir* , , , ^ ■ . , . . . j^^ 
 
 1. l>ear to nic was the mo - ment when first I did know A nate I - rish girl, nanieil 
 
 2. Ilor clieeks are ;is red as the ro - scs that grow ; II«r ncek it is whit - - er tlian 
 
 
 p 
 
 d- 
 
 — )- 
 zzq: 
 
 11^; 
 
 rzq; 
 
 ___!_ 
 
 — I- 
 
 ::i=q: 
 
 3=;; 
 
 :*==*=i=i=i===^4:i-=M=»^y==' 
 
 Kate Don - a 
 mar - ble or 
 
 hoe, AVho lives in a cot by the sweet Slian-non side, 
 
 snow ; Hur eyes of pure bright - ness are black as a jet ; 
 
 That beau - ti - ful 
 Their spark - ling 
 
 !i5=i33iit|^3li^:i:35^;5=gi^feja 
 
 :d=:T 
 
 ^¥3 
 
 $E^ 
 
 ^-f-t: 
 
 -^"f=g=^ =^ =f-"" 
 
 -pzz:^-prT:rpii=:^z] 
 
 Pim. 
 
 riv - er. Old Ire - - land's pride, That beau - ti - ful riv - cr, Old 
 glun - CCS I ne'er shall for - get, Their spark - - ling glan - ccs I 
 
 Ire - - land's pride, 
 ne'er shall for - get. 
 
 
 §i^=« s=gz g=3: 
 
 tr^z: 
 
 z- *. I-nnzi- >»_i__- 
 
 -4-« 
 
 zn: 
 
 zd_-^-=^- 
 
 l^ 
 
 3. 
 0, she is the hoj)c and the pride of my heart ; 
 From that chaniiing girl I'd ne'er wish to clopart ; 
 But I'd wish to bo with her the rest of my life, 
 To call her my honey, my nate little wife. 
 
 Theie's not in all Ireland a creature more fair ; 
 
 Ye never could find her sweet like any whore ; 
 
 Ye might search the whole world, but where'er ye might go. 
 
 Ye'd ne'er find another like Kate Donahoe. 
 
 Entered according w Act of Congrcaj, iu Uip jcar ISiS, by JACKSON & F0YXE3, in the Clerk's Oflico of the Disliict Court for the Dklricl of MossachusetU. 
 
VOLUME I.— NUMBER 4. ] 
 
 BOSTON, SATURDAY, MARCH 6, 1858. 
 
 [ PRICE FOUR CENTS. 
 
 CARLINGFORU. 
 TVe think our wood cut well calculated to catch the 
 eye of a Dublinian. For lives there man, woman, or 
 child, in our good citv, that has not heard of Carling- 
 ford, though but few have seen it. CarlingforrI — so 
 renowned for its delicious oysters — oysters known as 
 well to the poor mendicantwho'is tasked to crush their 
 shells, as to the rich merchant who gobbles down their 
 delicious in^ides — oysters as far superior to every other 
 testaceous creature that opens its bivalve to the tide, 
 as to an Englishman is plum-pudding when compared 
 
 with flummery — oysters, that give luxurious suppers to 
 man, and open his heart as the knife opens tin shell ! 
 In vain m ly the Pari-iian boast of his Carcale, tlie Lon- 
 doners of his Colchester, or even our western shores of 
 their grei'n-finned Burrin, exquisite Poold )0 ly. or de- 
 licioui Lisaddl — wlio dare compare them to a rale Car- 
 lingford '.' Ye Aldermen of Dublin, and all who have 
 experienced night after night thoindescriliabledeli^lits 
 of a feast of oysters, and a flow of punch, come and 
 give us all due credit for persecuting you with a pic- 
 ture of that dear spot from wnence your delights do 
 
 come, and for giving a ' local habitation and a name ' 
 to the birth-place of what your souls desire ! 
 
 Bat Carlingford is not only worthy of regard as con- 
 tributing to our creature comforts, and causing us to 
 rejoice both at snack and supper, hut it is also noted 
 fjr its scenic beauties and recollections. In all Ireland 
 there is not (oh ! we beg pardon, there is, at Glengar- 
 iff.) abay as be.iutiful as Carlingfod. Reader, if you 
 were sitting on a fine, soft, sunny evening on one of 
 the to we s of thit ancient castle hiiilt by King .luhn, 
 and looking westward and norchwarJ, vou would en- 
 
 '^/.r^,/^^ ^>.^^^^^^ 
 
 CARLINGFORD. 
 
 joy a prospect which, if you pretended to taste, ^\ould 
 cause you to cry nut, ' niagnifieent,' hut if you really 
 possessed it, would make y.iu hold your tonu'ue, and be 
 all eyes. Under you, the noble land-locked hay— he- 
 fore yon and a few miles across the water, a distance 
 which, owing to the tran^lucency of the atmosphere 
 peculiar to the western wind, is only calculated to make 
 objects more softly pic(cire«que — yes — before vou is 
 the loveliest village in Ireland — Rostrevor. Its cot- 
 tages embosomed in trees, its snn-lit villas, its pretty 
 church, its obelisk, the honored cenotaph of a brave 
 
 soldier, who full in his country's cause, leading Irish- 
 men to victory. Then above the village, the wood- 
 covered hills, sw-lling upwards, un'il the gi-een slopes 
 mingle in the dark gorges of the iVfourne mountains, 
 over which Slievo Donald rises ivs lord of the range in 
 pyramidal majesty. The westerning sun is t'ilding its 
 crest; a fenihery cloud all on lire with the sun's rays 
 lias 'irysled on its topmost peak, and tuibaned it with 
 gloi-y. -.^Kasiward, the mountain masses of shade 
 flung up<St( the sleeping sea ! Oh ! for sucha splendid 
 scene, hapjly, season, and felicitous atmosphere, — it 
 
 would almost be well to be n Carlingford fisherman or 
 even a CarlinL'ford ovs'er, provided that as an oyster 
 one couM see through the sea and be susceptiMe of the 
 pii^turesque, without the consciousness or being liable 
 to be dreilged for and gobbled up by the voracious 
 Dublinians. 
 
 But ('arlingford is not alone remarkable for its oys- 
 ters ami its scenery, it is also worthy an Irishman's 
 regard, as the retreat, and its mountain country the 
 fastness, of the notorious Redmond O'llanlon, the far- 
 fanicd Kajiparce, who, about 120 years ago, played 
 
50 
 
 iitisii .mis(i:l[>anv 
 
 ho nnri oPRoh Roy in Irclnnd. The Irish gailicror of 
 lluck-ient was quilc a iiintili fur llic Scotch rogue ; ns 
 viilimit iu Hghi, iw expert in llij;ht, as tcrrihlo to the 
 opcressor, as j;iueroiis to the oppressed, ns ihc (,'iile- 
 (lonian Kiltlanilcr. But poor Ireland has not got a 
 Sir Walter Soo't to cast a halo of renown ahout his 
 name — ' vato caret.' She wants a poet to immortalize 
 a eovy-stoalcr ; ami poor Keilnioml sleeps witliout his 
 plort ! Alas I that noiahle record of liis exjiloiis is 
 out of print — the llistorji of the Irish Rojjucs and Kap- 
 parees. Worthy Mr. Cross of Cook street, is now no 
 more, a eoflin maker occupies the shop where, in days 
 jronc hy, wo used to purcha-e these admirable etVusions 
 of the Irish press—' The Life of Captain James Fre- 
 nc.y, the Kohbor,' ' Laugh and bo Fat,' ' The History of 
 Moll Flanders,' hut above all, the most spirit-stirring, 
 the ono best calculated to teach the young Hibernian 
 idea Imw to slivol in rah- earnest, the ■ Irish Rogues and 
 Uapparees,' a book which has had as great an effect in 
 Ireland ns Schiller's ploy of tlie Robbers ia Germany, 
 namelv, leading many a bold youth to take freedoms 
 with others too often tending to the abridgment of his 
 own — but wo are rambling ; we beg leave to drop our 
 sportive strain, and introduce the ' Annals of Carling- 
 fonL' furnished by a gentleman lo whom uot only we, 
 but Ireland, lies under many obliga ions. 
 
 This little town is situated in the barony of Dundalk 
 and county of Louth, near the foot of an extensive 
 range of mountains, and on the S. E. side of a spacious 
 bav. It was a station of considerable importance dur- 
 ing the early ages of the English ascendancy in Irc- 
 latid, and its first formation was consequent to the 
 erection of a castle, which tradiiion attributes to the 
 policy of king John. The town was never regularly 
 walled or fortified, but as it was exposed to continual 
 dangers by being situated on the frontiers of the Pale, 
 every principal domestic building was designed on the 
 model of a fortress or castle. The remains of such 
 structure were very numerous there not more than 
 ' sixty years since,' and even at the present day three 
 very interesting remains of that character invite the 
 attention of the antiquarian. That pre-eminently 
 termed king John's castle is an extensive and imposing 
 ruin, ' moored on a rifted rock,' the sides of which arc 
 laved at the east liy the sea, while to the inland is a 
 narrow pass overhung by wild and lofty mountains. — 
 To command this pass the building seems to have been 
 erected, and its form was necessarily adajjted lo the 
 na'ural cireumstanees of its site, enclosing various bar- 
 ronial halls and apartments, a court- yard surrounded 
 with traces of galleries and recesses, &c. The walls 
 are in some places eleven feet in thickness, w liile the 
 prospect from its sammit over the bay, the Cooley, 
 the mountains of Moume, &c., is grand beyond de- 
 scription. 
 
 On the southern side of the town are the ruins of the 
 Dominican Monastery. This still extensive and pic- 
 turesque ruin exhibits in the long aisle and central bel- 
 fry, traces of the pointed architecture of the fourteenth 
 century. About midway between it and king John's 
 castle arc the ruins of a square building, with windows 
 of an ecclesiastical character, curiously ornamented 
 with cari'ings of animals, human heads, and sund y 
 fancy wreaihings. Near this on an adjoining eminence 
 is a church of ancient foundation, with a large burial 
 ground, in which may be seen a curiously carved stone 
 and several monuments to the families of Moore and 
 Millar. There is a glebe of about three acres lying 
 about a mile from this church. The benefice is a vi- 
 carage in the archdiocese of Armagh, and patronage 
 of the Primate. A small portion of the eastern part 
 of the parish is all tliat has been preserved in the Down 
 survey. 
 
 navigation is rendered dangerous liy hidden rocks. — 
 The scenery that surrounds it is of the most enchant- 
 ing description, its shores being decorated with the 
 most nttmciive villages, numerous bathing loilges and 
 agreeable cottages, behind which some mountains riso 
 infinitely varied through all their elevation, here wav- 
 ing with ornamental woods, there glowing with heath 
 and verdure, on the one side battlcmentcd with a grKy 
 expanse of rocks, on the other exhibiting the industri- 
 ous extensions of cultivation. 
 
 The mountain already allndtd to as overhanging 
 king John's castle, rises in height about 1S5I) feet, and 
 is for more than two-thirds of its elcva ion composed 
 of a succession of stairs formed of trap, passing towards 
 the summit from a homogeneous to a porphorytic tex- 
 ture. From the position and height of this eminence 
 the iidiabitants of Carlingford, during a great part of 
 the summer season, lose sight of the sun several hours 
 before he sets in the horizon. 
 
 The following are a few of the more interesting an- 
 nals connected with this town. 
 
 A. D. 4-32. St Patrick's second landing in Ireland 
 was according to some authorities effected here. 
 
 1184. John de Courcy granted the ferry of Carling- 
 ford to the Abbey of Downpatrick. 
 
 1210. The castle called king John's was erected. 
 1301. Matilda de Lacy widow of David, baron of 
 Naas, granted the advowjon of the church of Carling- 
 ford to the prioy of Kilmainham. 
 
 1305. Richard de Burgh Earl of Ulster founded a 
 monastery for Dominicians here, under the invocation 
 of St. Malaehy. 
 
 1326. The king committed the custody of the cas- 
 tle of Carlingford to Geoft'ry le Blound, to hold during 
 the royal pleasure. And in the same year the bailiffs, 
 &c. of this town had letters patent, conferring certain 
 privileges and allowances for six years as an aid to- 
 wards walling and otherwise strengthening their town. 
 1332. William de Burgh was found seized, amongst 
 other possessions of the castle of Droghcda, the town 
 Cooley appertaining thereto, the manor of Ratli, &c. 
 
 1346. The prior of Kilmainham was found seized, 
 and his successors so continued, of the tithes of Car- 
 lingford. 
 
 1357. The king granted to his son Lionel, Earl of 
 Ulster, licence to hold a weekly market, and one year- 
 ly fair in his town of Carlingford. From this Lional 
 the property descended to Edward de Mortimer. 
 
 1388. Edmund Loundrcs was appoifited constable 
 of the castle of Carlingford, with certain allowances for 
 its repairs, as it was stated to be then much out of or- 
 der and unsafe. 
 
 1400. Tlic king granted to Stephen Gernon, con- 
 stable of the castles ot Green Castle and Carlingford, 
 licence to take the corn and tithes within the lordship 
 of Cooley for the victualling of said castles. 
 
 1404. The manor of Carlingford, and town of Irish 
 Grange, wbich had previously belongetl to the abbey 
 and convent of Ncwry, vested by forfeiture in the king, 
 who thcreuijon granted it iu lee to Richard Sodgrave. 
 1408. Lord Thomas of Lancaster, the king's son 
 landed here as Lord Lieutenant of Ireland. 
 
 1425. By a record of this date it appears that cer- 
 tain rifihts iu the fishery of the bay apperuimed to the 
 castle of Carlingford. 
 
 14C7. A mint was establislicd here by act of Par- 
 liament. 
 
 14'J5. It was enacted that only able and sufficient 
 persons of the realm of England should be hencefor- 
 ward constables of the castle of Carlingford. 
 
 1501. In consequence of this town having been re- 
 peatedly burned by the Scots and Irish, the king 
 
 Knight, the manors, of Omec and Carlingford, with 
 the Lordship of Cooley, &c. 
 
 1560. Sir Henry Hadcllfle and John Neil 1 were 
 members for the borough of Carlingford in this year. 
 
 1506. Henry Oge, the son-inlaw of Tyrone, made 
 incursions into the English pale, and endeavored lo 
 surprise the castle of Carlingford. 
 
 1642. Sir Henry Fishhiirn took possession of the 
 town, not however till it had suffered considerable in- 
 jury by fire from the adherents of Sir Phelim O'Neill. 
 
 1 046. Pcrfi ct freedom of trade confered on Carling- 
 ford. 
 
 1G49. The cnstle surrendered to Lord Inchiquin. 
 
 1659. The castle was delivered to Sir Charles 
 Coote and Colond Venables. 
 
 16G9. The tithes of this parish, which had been ves- 
 ted in the crown, were granted to the incumbent and 
 his successors for ever- 
 
 1 689. Some of ibe Duke of Berwick's party set fire 
 to his town, soon after which the sick solders of Schom- 
 berg's army were removed thither. In king James's 
 parliament of this year, Christopher Pcppard and Bry- 
 an Dermod, Esq. were the sitting members for Carl- 
 ingford. 
 
 1 "50. The celebrated Thurot passed this year here, 
 and during that interval acquired his knowledge of the 
 English language. D. 
 
 WANT OF POINT, A NICE POINT. 
 
 An ingenious expedient was devised to save a 
 prisoner charged with robbery, in the Criminal Court 
 at Dublin. The principal thing that appeared in evi- 
 dence against him was a eonfe.>-sion, alleged to have 
 been made by him at the police-oflnce. The document 
 purporting to contain this sclfcriminating acknowledg- 
 ment, was produced by the officer, and the following 
 passage was read from it : 
 
 ' Mangan said he never robbed but twice 
 
 Said it was Crawford.' 
 
 This it will be observed has no mark of the writer's 
 having any notion of punctuation, but the meaning he 
 attached to it was that 
 
 ' Mangan said be never robbed but twice : 
 
 Said it was Crawford.' 
 
 Mr. G'Gorman, the counsel for the prisoner, begged 
 to look at the paper. Perused it, and rat her astonished 
 the peace officer by asserting, that so far from its prov- 
 ing the man's guilt, it established his innocence- 
 ■This,' said the learned gentlemen, 'is the fair and ob- 
 vious reading of the sentence : 
 
 ' Mangan said he never robbed ; 
 
 But twice said it was Crawford.' 
 
 This interpretation had its effects on the jury, and 
 the man was acquitted. 
 
 Carlingford formerly gave the title of Eail to the ' granted to its provost, bailiffs, and cominonalily cer 
 family of Taaffe, but the honor becoming, as it is sup- ' tain tolls and customs towards enclosing it with a 
 posed, extiuct in the person of Theobald the (ourih stone wall 
 
 earl of that name without issue, in 1738, his late maj- 1538. The inhabitants of Clontarf, near Dublin, 
 csty George III, conferred the title of Viscount Car- had licence to fi.sh, without charge or toll, within the 
 lingford on the family of Carpenter, together with the ' bay of Carlingford. 
 
 Earldom of Tyreonnel. Tne papulation of this an- 1539. This vicarage was valued to the First Fruits 
 cient town is estimated at upwards of 1300. The bay at £3. 13s. 8d. 
 i s spacious, and the water deep ; but unfortunately the ' lotS. The king granted to Sir Nicholas Bagnal, 
 
 HEROISM. 
 A corporal of the 17th Dragoons, named O'Lavory, 
 serving under Lord Rawdon in South Carolina during 
 the American war, b. ing appointed to escort an impor- 
 tant despatch through a country possessed by the ene- 
 my, was a short time after their departure wounded in 
 the side by a shot, which also laid his companion dead 
 at his feet. Insensible to every thing but duly, he seiz- 
 ed the despatch, and continued his route till he sunk 
 from loss otblood. Unable to proceed farther, and yet 
 anxious fur his charge, to which he knew death would 
 be no security against the enemy, he then 
 
 ' Within his wound the fatal paper plae'd, 
 Willi h proned his death, noiby that death disgrac'd 
 A smile, bcnginant, on bis oount'nance shone, 
 Pleas'd that his secret had remain'd unknown : 
 So was he found.' 
 A British patrol discovered him on the following day, 
 before life was quite extinct ; he pointed out to bis com- 
 rade the dreadful depository he had cboiien, and then 
 satisfactoriy breathed his la>t. The Earl of Moira has 
 erected a monument to the hero in tlie church of his 
 native parish. 
 
 ' First class in musie stand up. How many kinds 
 of metre are there ? ' ' Three, sir — long metre, short 
 metre, and meet her by moonlight alone.' 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 51 
 
 lEISH MINSTKELST. 
 THE IRISH MAIDEN'S SONG. 
 
 BY BEUSAKD BARTON. 
 
 Though lofty Scotia's mouiitnins, 
 
 Wliere savage grandeur reigns; 
 Thougli briglit be England's fouutains, 
 
 And fertile be her plains: 
 AVhen 'mid their cbarni.s 1 wander, 
 
 Of thee I think the while, 
 And seem of thee the fonder, 
 
 lily own green isle ! 
 
 "While many who have left thee. 
 
 Seem to forget thy name, 
 Distance hath not bereft mo 
 
 Of its enduring claim; 
 Afar from tliee sojourning, 
 
 Wlietlicr I sigh or smile, 
 I call thee still, ' Ma vourneen ' — 
 
 5Iy own green isle ! 
 
 Fair as the glittering waters 
 
 Thy emerald banks that lave, 
 To me thy graceful daughters. 
 
 Thy generous sons as brave. 
 Oh! there are hearts within thee 
 
 Which know not shame or guile, 
 And such proud homage win thee^ 
 
 My own green isle ! 
 
 For their dear sakes I love thee. 
 
 Ma vourneen, though unseen; 
 Bright he thy sky above thee. 
 
 Thy shamrock ever green ; 
 May evil ne'er distress thee, 
 
 Nor darken nor defile. 
 But heaven for ever bless thee — 
 
 My own green isle ! 
 
 DEAK HAEP OF MY COUKTEY. 
 
 Dear Harp of my country I in darkness I found thee 
 
 The cold chain of silence had hung o'er thee long, 
 "When proudly, my own Island Harp! I unbound thee. 
 
 And gave all thy cords to light, freedom, and song! 
 The warm lay of love and the light note of gladness 
 
 Have waken'd thy fondest, thy liveliest thrill; 
 But so oft hast thou echoed the deep sigh of sadness. 
 
 That even in thy mirth it will steal from thee still. 
 
 Dear Harp of my country! farewell to thy numbers, 
 
 This sweet wreath of song is the last we shall twine. 
 Go, sleep with the sunshine of Fame on thy slumbers. 
 
 Till touch'd by some hand less unworthy than mine. 
 If the pulse of the patriot, soldier, or lover. 
 
 Have throbb'd at our lay, 'tis thy glory alone; 
 I was bur as the wind, passing headlessly over, 
 
 And all the wild sweetness I wak'd was thy own. 
 
 THE LANDLORD AND TENANT. 
 
 an authentic story. 
 
 [continued.] 
 
 'May He that is pleased to thry us,' he exclaimed, 
 ' reward you for this ! We are,' he continued, ' a poor 
 an' a sufferin' family ; but it's tlie will of God that we 
 should be so, an' sure we can't complain widout com- 
 mittin' sin. All we ax now, is, that it may be plasin' 
 to him that brou<;ht us low, to enable us to bear up 
 undlicr our ihrials. We would take it to our choice 
 to beg an' be honest sooner nor be wealthy and 
 wicked. We have cur failings an' our sins, God help 
 us ; but still there's nothing dark or heavy on our 
 consciences. Glory be to the name o' God for it.' 
 
 'Tliroth, I believe you,' replied the farmer's wife; 
 ' tliere's thruth an honesty in your face ; one may 
 ea-ilv see the remains of dacency about you all. — 
 Musha, throw your little things aside, an' stay where 
 ye arc to-day ; you can't bring out the chiUIbre under 
 the teem of rain and sleet that's in it. Wurrah dheelish, 
 but it's the bitther day all out ! Faix, Paddy will get 
 a <lhrookin, so he will, at that weary fair will llie 
 stirks, poor bouihal — a son of ours that's gone to 
 Ballyhouliccn to sell some cattle, an' he'll not be 
 worth three bapuns afore he comes back. I hope be'U 
 have sinse to go into some house, when he's done, an' 
 dhry himself well, anyhow, besides lakin' somethin' 
 to keep out ilie could. Put by your things, an, don't 
 think of goin' out such a day.' 
 
 ' We thank you,' replied Owen. ' Indeed, we're 
 
 glad to stay undbcr your roof; for poor things, they're 
 badly able to thravel sich a day — those diildhre.' 
 
 ' Musha, ye ate no breakfast, maybe V 
 
 Owen and his family were silent. The cliildrcn 
 looked wistfully at their parents, nnxiou'i that they 
 should confirm what the good woman surmised ; the 
 father looked again at his famislied brood and his 
 sinking wife, and nature oveicame him. 
 
 ' Food did not crass our lips this day,' replied Owen, 
 'an' I may say hardly anytliing yestherday.' 
 
 ■ Oil, blessed mother ! Here, Katty, Murray, drop 
 scrubhin' tliat dresser, an' put down the middlin' pot 
 for stirabout. Be livin' ! manim an diouot, woman 
 alive, handle yourself; you might a had it boilin' by 
 this. God presarve us I — to be two days widout atin'. 
 Be the crass, Katty, if you're not .alive, I'll give you a 
 douse o' the churnstnlF tliat'U bring the fire to your 
 eyes ! Do you hear me V 
 
 'I do hear you, an' did often feci you, too, for fraid 
 hearin' wouldn't do. You think there's no places in 
 the world but your own, I b'liove. Faix, indeed ! it's 
 well come up wid us, to be randicd about with no less 
 a switch tlian a churnstafi^!' 
 
 ' Is it givin' back talk, you are ? Bad end to me, if 
 you look erucked, but I'll lave you a mark to remim- 
 ber me by. What woman ud' put up wid you but 
 myself, you shkamin flipe '! It wasn't to give me your 
 bad tongue I hired you, but to do your business ; an' 
 be the crass above us, if you turn your tongue on me 
 agin, I'll give you the weight o' the churnstafF. Is it 
 bekase they're poor people that it pLised God to bring 
 to this, that you turn up your nose at doin' anything 
 to sarve them ? There's not walher enough there, I 
 say — put in more. What signifies all the stirabout 
 that 'ud make f Put plinly in ; it's hetther always to 
 have too much than too little. Faix, I tell you, you'll 
 want a male's meat an' a night's lodgin' afore you die, 
 if you don't mend your manners." 
 
 ' Och, musha, the poor girl is doin' her best,' ob- 
 served Kathleen ; an' I'm sure she wouldn't be guilty 
 of usin' pride to ih". likes of us, or to any one that the 
 Lord has laid his h.and upon,' 
 
 ' She had betther not, while I'm to the fore,' said 
 her mistress. ' What is she herself 9 Sure if it was a 
 sin to be poor, God help the world. No ; it's neither 
 sin nor a shame.' 
 
 'Thanks be to God, no,' said Owen, 'it's neiiher 
 the one nor the other. So long as wc keep a fair 
 name, an' a clear conscience, we can't ever say that 
 our case is hard.' 
 
 After some further conversation, a comfortable 
 breakfast was prepared for them, of which they par- 
 took with an appetite sharpened by their long absti- 
 nence from food . Their stay here was particularly 
 fortunate, for as thry were certain of a cordial wel- 
 come, and an abundance of that which they much 
 wanted — wholesome food— the pressure of immediate 
 distress was removed. They had time to tliink more 
 accurately upon the little preparations for misery 
 which wire necessary, and, as the day's leisure was at 
 their disposal, Katlilecn's needle and scissors were 
 industriously plied in mending the tattircd clothes of 
 her husband and children, in oidertomeet the inclem- 
 ency of the weather. 
 
 On the following morning, after another abundant 
 breakfast, and substantial marks of kindness from 
 ilieir entertainers, liny prepared to resume their new 
 and melancholy mode of life. As they were about to 
 depart, the farmer's wife addressed them in the fol- 
 lowing terms — the farmer himself, by the waj-, being 
 but the shadow of his worthy partner in life. 
 
 Wife. — ' Now, good people, you're takin' the world 
 on your heads — ' 
 
 FarmiT. — Ay, good people, you're takin' the world 
 on your heads — ' 
 
 Wife. — ' Hould your tongue, Brian, an' suck your 
 dhudeen. It's me that's spakin' to ihem, so none of 
 your palaver, if yo'i plase, till I'm done, an' then vou 
 may prache till Tib's eve, an' that's neither before 
 Chri>tni;v< nor aftlicr it.' 
 
 FiinniT — • Sure I'm saying nothin', Elveen, barrin' 
 houldiu' my tongue, a simuhai.'* 
 ' My sugar. 
 
 Wife. — You're takin' the world on yez, an' God 
 knows 'tis a heavy load to curry poor cnithurs.' 
 
 Farmer. — ' A heavy load, poor cratliurs ! God bo 
 knows it's that.' 
 
 Wife. — 'Brian! Glautho mnl — did you bear me 1 
 You'll be puttin' in your gab, an' me spakin' ! IIow- 
 an iver, as I was sayin', our house was the first yo 
 came to, an' they say there's a great blessia' to thini 
 that gives the first charity to a poor man or woman 
 settin' out to look for tbcir bit.' 
 
 Farmer. — 'Throgs, ay! Whin tliey set out to look 
 for their bit.' 
 
 Wife. — ' By the crass, Brian, you'd vex a saint. — 
 What have you to say in it, you pUliogue ?t Hould 
 your whisht now, an' suck your dliudecn, I say ; sure 
 I allow you a quartlicr o' tobaccy a week, an' what 
 right hive yon to be puttin' in j'our gosther when 
 other people's spakin' V 
 
 Farmer. — 'Go an.' 
 
 Wife. — ' So you see, the long and the short of it is, 
 that wlienevcr you happen to be in this side of the 
 counthry, always come to us. You know the ould 
 savin' — when the poor man comes he brings a blessin' 
 an' when he goes be carries away a curse. You havo 
 as much meal as will last yez a day or two ; an' God 
 he sees you're heartily welcome to all ye got V 
 
 Farmer. — 'God be sees you're heartily welcome — ' 
 
 Wife. — ' Chorp an diouol, Brian, hould your tongue, 
 or I'll turn you out of the kitchen. One can't hear 
 their own ears for you, you poor squakin' dhrono. 
 By the crass, I'll — eb ? Will you whisht, now V 
 
 tarmer. — ' Go an. Amn't I dhrawin' my pipe 1' 
 
 Wife. — ' Well, dhraw (V, but don't draw me down 
 upon you, barrin — Do you hear me ? an' the sthrange 
 people to the fore, too ! Well, the Lord be wid yez, 
 an' bless yez ! But afore yez go, jist lave your ble.s- 
 sin' wid us, for it's a good thing to have the blesshi' 
 of the puor.' 
 
 ' The Lord bless yon an' yours !' said Owen, fer- 
 vently. ' May jou an' them never — never suflTer what 
 we've suffered ; nor know what it is to want a male's 
 mate, or a night's lodgin' !' 
 
 ' Amin !' exclaimed Kathleen ; 'may the world flow 
 upon you ! for your good kind heart deserves it.' 
 
 Farmer. — ' An' whisper ; I wisli you'd offer up a 
 prayer for the rulin' o' the tongue. The Lord might; 
 hear you, but there's no great hopes that he'll ever 
 hear me; though I've prayed for it amost ever since I 
 was married, night an' day, wimhcr an' summer ; but 
 no use, she's as bad as ever.' 
 
 This was said in a tone of fiiendly, insinuating un- 
 dertone to Owen, who, on hearing it, simply nodded 
 his head but made no other reply. 
 
 They then recommenced their journey, a''tcr having 
 once more blessed, and been invited by their charita- 
 ble entertainers, who m.ade them promise never to 
 pass their house without s-topping a niglit with them. 
 
 It is not our intention to trace Owen M'Carihy and 
 bis wife through all the variety which a wandering 
 pauper's life affords. lie never could reconcile him- 
 self to the habits of a mendicant. His honest pride 
 and integrity of heart raised him above it ; neither did 
 he sink into the whine and cant of imposture nor the 
 slang of knavery. No; there was a touch of manly 
 sorrow about liim, which neiiher time nor famihariiy 
 with his degraded mode of life, could take away from 
 him. His usual observation to his wife, and he never 
 made it without a pang of intense bitterness, was — 
 Kathleen, darlin' it's thrue we have enough to ate, 
 an' to dhrink ; but we have no home — no home!' To a 
 man like him it was a thought of surpassing bitterness 
 indeed. 
 
 Ah ! Kathleen,' he would observe, ' if we had but 
 the poorest shed that could be built, provided it w.as 
 our own, wouldn't we be happy t The bread we ate, 
 avournecn, doesn't do us ^ood. We don't work for 
 it; it's the bread of shame and idleness, and yet it's 
 Owen M'Carihy that ates it I But, avournecn, that's 
 past, an' we'll never see our own home, or our own 
 
 [cONTI-ibED ON PAGE 54.] 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 From Ilardimaii's Irish Minstrelsy. 
 MAC CABE AND CAUOLAN. 
 Ill our sec-onil number wo ^iwo Mac Ciibu's elfK.v on 
 the doatli of t'liroinn, whii li in the original is as tino an 
 expression of unatVceted sorrow as may well be imag- 
 ined. In this wo wish to present ' Carolan's lament 
 over the grave of .Mac Cabo,' which may appear rather 
 startling to the reader. 
 
 The cause of it was as follows : Mac Cabe and Car- 
 dan were warm and attnched friends — but Mac Cabe, 
 being somewhat of a humorist, nscdto exercise his wit 
 occasionally ingooil humored sallies upon his sighiless 
 friend. One day, after a long absence, JIac Cabe mee- 
 ting Carolan, disguised his voice, and accosted him as 
 n stranger, insinuating that ho came from Mac Cabo's 
 neighborhood. Whereupon Carolan eagerly inquired 
 if he knew one CImrlcs Mac Cabe, to which the wag 
 rather improperly replied that he liad been at his fune- 
 ral ; the news ot which so alVcetcd our bard, that he 
 broke out into the following strain : — 
 
 CAUOL^VXS LAJIKNT OVEUTUE GRAVE OF 
 
 JLVC CABE, 
 * Oh ! what a bnfllcd visit mine liath been, 
 
 How long my journey, and how darlc my lot! 
 
 And have 1 toiled tliouph each fntiguinj; sceue. 
 
 To meet my friend— aud yet to lind him not. 
 
 I.iglit of my eyesl lost solace of my mind! 
 
 To .*^eek— to hear thee — eagerly I .=ped ; 
 In vain I came — no trace of thee I lind — 
 
 Ji^ave tlic cold Hag that shades tliy narrow bed. 
 
 3Iy voice is low — ray mood of mirtli is o'er, 
 1 droop in sadness lilic the widowed dove, 
 Talk' talk of tortures — talk of pain no more — 
 Nought strikes us like the death of those we love.' 
 5Iac Cabe was so touched by this genuine proof of 
 friendship, that ho clasped him in his arms, and reveal- 
 ed himself. 
 
 CEAD MILLE PAILTE. 
 It is perhaps not generally known from whence the 
 famous expression of Irish hospitality, Cead Milk Fail- 
 te, was taken. It occurs in the concluding stanza of 
 Eileen a Iloon, and is thus translated by Purlong : — 
 
 A hundred thousand welcomes, 
 
 Eileen a Roon ! 
 
 A hundred thousand welcomes, 
 
 Eileen a Koon I 
 
 Oh ! welcome ever more. 
 
 With welcomes yet in store, 
 
 Till love and life are o'er, 
 
 Eileen a Roon ! 
 There are two songs entitled Eileen a Roon, Ellen, 
 the sfcrel treasure of my heart. The old version, from 
 which the above stanza is taken, bears internal evi- 
 dence of antiquity. The first line of the second stanza 
 of it, ' I would spend a cow to entertain thee,' proves 
 that it was composed before coined money was in gen- 
 eral use. The following is esteemed the most proba- 
 ble account of the circumstances which gave rise 
 to it. 
 
 'Carol O'Daly, commonly called MacCaomh Insi Cne- 
 amha, brother to Donogh More O'Daly ,a man of much 
 consequence in C'onnaught, was one of the most ac- 
 complished gentlemen of his time, and particularly ex- 
 celled in poetry and music. He paid his addresses to 
 Ellen, the daughter of a chieftain named Kavangh, 
 a lovely and amiable yonng lady, who returned his af- 
 fection, but her friends disapproved of the connexion. 
 O'Daly was obliged to leave the country for some 
 time, and they availed themselves of the opportunity 
 which his absence afforded, of impressing on the mind 
 ofEllen, a belief of his falsehood, and of his having gone 
 to 1)0 married to another ; after some time they pre- 
 vailed on her to consent to marry a rival of O'Daly. 
 The day was fixed for the nuptials, but O'Daly return- 
 ed the evening before. Under the first impression of 
 his feelings, he sought a wild and sequestered spot on 
 the sea shore, and inspired by love, composed the song 
 of Eileen a Roon, which remains to this time, an ex- 
 quisite memorial of his skill and sensibility. Disguis- 
 ed as a harper, he gained access among the crowd that 
 thronged to the wedding. It happened, that he was 
 
 called upon hy Ellen herself to ]>lay. It was then, 
 touching his harp with all the pathetic sensibility which 
 the interesting occasion inspired, he infused his own 
 feelings into the song ho had composed, and breath- 
 ed into his 'softened strain/ the very sonl of pensive 
 melody. 
 
 In the first stanza he intimates, according to the Irish 
 idiom, that, he would walk with her, that is, that ho 
 would bo her partner, or only love for life. In the sec- 
 ond, that liL' would entertain her, and all'ord her every 
 delight. After this, ho tenderly asks, will she depart 
 with him, or, in the impressive manner of the original, 
 ' Wilt thon stay, or wilt thou come with me, Eileen a 
 Roon.' She soon felt the force of this tender appeal, 
 and replied in the affirmative ; on which, in an ectacy 
 of delight, he bursts forth into his 'hundred thousand 
 welcomes.' To reward his fidelity and alTeciion, his 
 fair one contrived to ' go with him that very 
 night.' 
 
 Tho other version was composed by a Monster bard 
 of tho seventeenth century, who endeavored to excel, 
 by a profusion of poetic embellishment, tlic original and 
 sweetly simple song of Eileen a Roon. The following 
 is a specimen of the translation of it, by John D'Al- 
 ton, Esq. 
 
 Blind to all else but thee, 
 
 Eileen a Roon ! 
 
 My eyes only ache to see 
 
 Eileen a Roon I 
 
 My ears banquet on thy praise, 
 
 Pride and pleasure of my days I 
 
 Source of all my happiness ! 
 
 Eileen a Roon ! 
 Handel is said to have declared that he would rath- 
 er be the author of Eileen a Roon, than of the most ex- 
 quisite of his compositions. Yet it has been palmed 
 upon ihe public, under the name of Robin Adair, as a 
 Scotch melody. Burns asserted that it and Mvlli/ As- 
 tore, which ho termed Gramachree, were both Scotch : 
 he was in error : but tho circumstance is a proof of their 
 merit, and his taste. Robin Adair himself was an 
 Irishman ; he was ancestor of Viscount Molesworth ; 
 lived at Hollypark, in the county of Wicklow; and ear- 
 ly in tho last century was a member of the Irish par- 
 liament. 
 
 THE JAUJiTlNU CAR. 
 
 This is, properly, an Irish machine. The Jaunting Car is 
 almost ijcculiur to our Island. A .Scotchmau or an Eng- 
 lishman on lirst lauding at Dublin or at Kingstown is struck 
 with this peculiarity; but they soon leani to relish so agree- 
 able and handsome a conveyance. It is true, that the cars 
 for AfVir do not pre.-ent very great temptations: the misern- 
 ble horses, and too oflcu the squalid' dirty drivers, clamor- 
 ing for a fare, and under-bidding each other with fierce vo- 
 ciferation, while the fiirious driving, and incessant attempts 
 to take advantage of ignorance and inexperience, render 
 the Dublin carmen almost intolerable, (we speak generally) 
 e-\copt to those who are content to endure these disadvanta- 
 ges for the pleasure and ease of being conveyed to any part 
 of the city or country. But none who have enjoyed the 
 comforts ot that pleasant vehicle, a. private car, will quarrel 
 with our dcsiguating it a^T.:nbie aud handsomt. Almost ev- 
 ery citizcn'who can atford it, (and we are sorry to add, many 
 who can not,) keeps a car. In a future number we will 
 give an excursion to Kingstown — but in the meantime 
 cuncludc our nutice,with the following extract kindly fur- 
 nished by a friend. 
 
 ' Who has not enjoyed the advantages of the jaunting car: 
 who that has even traversed the beautiful road to Kings- 
 town on the various vehicles so properly denominated ' <Jh- 
 toeators.' which pass aud repass in unremitting whirl; or 
 who that has watched the beuutitul daughters of the, ' green 
 isle ' bornw through tho streets of our extending mctropulis 
 
 on this handsome and commodious vehicle, that will not 
 feci curious to know from what Immble principle, it has 
 thus risen to iierfection. And in good time, have I met 
 with Mniter Hush's lllbemia Curiosa : he was a careful and 
 observant traveller, and.I feel I cannot do better than amuse 
 your rcadero with an extract on the above matter iVom bis 
 work : 
 
 'They have an odd kind of machine here, whioli they call 
 the Noddy; it Is nothing more than un old cast olT one- 
 horse chaise or chair; with a kind of stool fixed upon tho 
 shafts just before the scat, on which the driver sits, Just over 
 the liorsc, and drives you from one i)art of the town to 
 another, at stated rates for a ' s^t-iloivn,^ and a good set-down 
 it is sometimes for you are well olTif you are not set down in a 
 channel, hy the breaking of the wheels, or an overset-down ; 
 nor can you see any thing before you but your nod, nod, 
 nodding charioteer, whose situation on the shafts obliges 
 his mution to be conformed to that of the horse, from 
 whence 1 sujjpose they have obtained the name of the Nod- 
 dy. 
 
 I assure you the ease of the fare is not much consulted in 
 the construction of these nodding vehicles. But the drol- 
 lest and most diverting kind of conveyance for your gen- 
 teel and ungenteel parties of pleasure is what they call hero 
 the Chaise-marine, whicli is nothing less or more than any 
 common car with one horse, A simple kind of carriage con- ■ 
 structed with a pair of wheels, or thin round blocks, of 
 about twenty inches in diameter, an axle and two shafts, 
 which over the axle are spread out a little wider than the 
 sides of the horse, and framed together with cross pieces 
 in such a manner as to be nearly in a level.position for three 
 of four feet across the axle. 
 
 These simple constructions are almost the only kind of 
 carts in common use for the carrying or -moving of goods, 
 merchandise of every kind, hay, corn, &c. through the king- 
 dom These are howevei used for parties of pleasure, when 
 on the level part a mat is laid for the commonality, and for 
 the genteeler sort of people a bed is put on this, and half a 
 dozen get on, two behind, and two on each side, and away 
 they drive, with their feet not above six inches IVom the 
 ground as they sit, on little jaunts of a few miles out of 
 town ; and they are the most sociable carriages in use, for 
 ten or a dozen will take one of these Chaise-marines, and 
 ride it by turns, the rate being seldom, in such cases, more 
 than a foot pace. I assure you they are the drollest, mer- 
 riest curricles you ever saw. 
 
 M''e were infinitely diverted at meeting many of these 
 feather-bed chaise-marine parties on the Sunday that we 
 lauded coming out of town, as we went up to it from Dun- 
 Icary. Such was the jaunting car of Ireland in 1764, and 
 could the honest gentlemen to whom we are indebted for 
 this description ' revisit the glimpses of the moon,' and see 
 the vehicle ofl832. how great would be his praises and sur- 
 prise. 1 shall take an early opportunity of returning to his 
 pages, from whence I have no fear of being enabled to ex- 
 tract much that will he found agreeable, useful and enter- 
 tain iug. 
 
 A ROWLAND rOE AN OLIVER. 
 
 A witty Ilibernjan, just arrived in London, and wander- 
 ing about, perceived a blanket at a shop door with this in- 
 scription on it, 'This superior blanket for half price.' Pat 
 walked in, and demanded the price. 'Just^rc shillings, 
 Sir,' replied the smooth and polished shopkeeper. ' By my 
 sowl, and that's chape enough ! ' and so folding the blanket 
 up, aud putting it under his arm, he laid dowu two shillings 
 and sixijence, and was walking off. The shopkeeper iuter- 
 eopted him, and demanded the other two and sixpence. 
 ' Did'nt you say, you spalpeen, that theprice of the blanket 
 was live shillings, and sure hav'nt I given yon the hall of it? 
 By this and that, I won't give up my bargain!' A scuflle 
 ensued, and Pat was taken to Bow-street; but when there, 
 he pleaded his cause so ably, that the magistrate dismissed 
 the complaint, and advised the shopkeeper never again to 
 ticket his goods witli ' half-price.^ 
 
 HAPPINESS OF CHILDREN. 
 Children may teach us one blessed, and enviable 
 art — tho art of being easily happy. Kind nature has 
 given to them that uselul power of accommod.ition to 
 circumstances, which compensates for many external 
 disadvantages, and it is only hy injudicious manage- 
 ment that it is lost. Give him but a moderate portion 
 of food and kindness, and the pca.sant's child is happi- 
 er than the duke's , free from artificial wants, unsutia- 
 ted by indulgence, all nature ministers to his pleasures: 
 he can carve out felicity from a bit of hazel twig, or 
 fish for it successfully in a puddle. 1 love to hear tho 
 lioisterous joy of a troop of ragged urchins, whose 
 cheap playthings are nothing more than mud, snow, 
 sticks, or oyster-shells . or to watcli the quiet enjoyment 
 of a half-clothed, half-washed fellow of four or five 
 years old, who sits wiih a large rusty knife and a lump 
 of bread and bacon at his father's door, and might 
 move the envy of an alderman. 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 53 
 
 NEWS FROM HOME. 
 
 D U 11 L I K . 
 
 Rkmarkable Decreasb of Crimu in Ireland. 
 — Tlio rapid .strides Ireland hns mnde in material 
 prosperity, sinee 18.")1, are well known ; it is not so 
 commonly understood tliat decrease nicrime, and in- 
 crease in wealth have in this interval, exactly kept 
 pace with each other. Such is the fact. During the 
 years lS4.'j-G-"-8 the per centage of the population in 
 England averaged 159.'5. In Ireland, during the same 
 years, it averaged .'5274. Thus the tendency to crime 
 in Ireland, ten years ago, was double what it was in 
 England. In the year 1855, however, the proportion 
 between crime and population in the tAvo countries had 
 become nearly equal, as in that year there were only 
 eight criminals more to every 100,000 of population in 
 Ireland than in the neighboring countiy. 
 
 Jliss Hayes and Miss O'Brien two ladies of for- 
 tune in Dublin, have both joined the Sisters of Mer- 
 cy at Belfast. 
 
 The 5th Dragoons, struck out of her Majesty's for- 
 ces in 1799, has been restored to its place among the 
 cavaliT regiments of the line. The 18th, 19th, 20th, 
 21st, 22d, and 23d, regiments of Dragoons have also 
 been again called into existence for service in the E. 
 Indies. 
 
 LIMERICK. 
 
 Bishop op Killaloe. — It is stated that his Grace 
 the Archbishop of Cashel and Emly has received from 
 Rome a Rescript authorising him to forward to the 
 Holy See, the names of three Ecclesiastics ; from 
 whom the Coadjutor Bishop of the Diocese of Killa- 
 loe is to be chosen by the Propaganda. — Recorder. 
 
 Our distinguished countryman, Mr. Eugene Curry, 
 is likely to carry the prize which some six or seven 
 years since, was offered by the government of Copen- 
 hagen for records of the early history of the Danes, 
 having discovered in Dublin some Irish manuscript 
 written after the expulsion of the Danes by Brian Bo- 
 ru. — Chronicle. 
 
 CORK. 
 
 The Poor Law Commissioners have at length con 
 sented, on the urgent and repeated representations of 
 the Guardians of Killarney 0nion, that an apartment 
 entirely separate from the dining hall should be ap- 
 propriated exclusively for Roman Catholic worship. 
 
 The Coik distillers have recently reduced the price 
 of whiskey to lOs lOd per gallon. This seems to be 
 a move in anticipation of the Chancellor of the Ex- 
 chequer's proposed assimulation of duties of spirits. 
 It is equal to a reduction of 4d per gallon, the last 
 price being lis 2d. — Examiner. 
 
 Nicholas Connolly, a baker, died on the Ith Feb. of 
 inflammation of the lungs. 
 
 king's. 
 
 AnoncTioN in the King,s County. — On "Wed- 
 nesday night the house of a man named Ryan, who 
 resides at Coloranty, near Shinrone, was entered by a 
 large party of men, who forcibly carried away his 
 daughter, beating the members of the family who re- 
 sisted. The alarm was given, and a hasty pursuit en- 
 sued, headed by the young woman's intended husband 
 and being reinforced by a party of the Shinrone pol- 
 ice, they proceeded to the house of a man named Pat- 
 rick Kennedy, near Dunkeriin, and discovered the 
 young woman. A warm contest ensued, and after 
 many blows were exchanged, the prize was won, and 
 carried back. The morning was advanced when they 
 returned, and to prevent any further difference, it was 
 considered advisable that the marriage ceremony should 
 be performed without delay, and the abducted Miss 
 Ryan was without further ado made Mrs. Walsh.— 
 It may be added that the bride is at the shady side of 
 sixty, and the bridegroom can number as many years, 
 with a few to boot, and half a dozen children. — Ckron. 
 
 On the 4th of February, while some laborers were 
 employed in making a ditch on the lands of Bally- 
 loolau near Frankford, the skeleton of a hutn.an being 
 was discovered about eighteen inches below the surface 
 
 of the field. It was supposed to bo that of a cattle deal- 
 er of the neighborhood who disappeared about seven 
 years ago. A coroner's investigation is being carri- 
 ed on. 
 
 W A T E U F R D . 
 
 During the last forty-two years, lifiy-six vessels have 
 been ship-wrecked, and four hundred and twenty-six 
 souls perished in Tramore Bay. The greatest num- 
 ber of lives lost was by the shipwreck of the ship Sea 
 Horse, in the year 1816, 363 men having perished in 
 that catastrophe. 
 
 Kl LKENKT. 
 
 The Lord Lieutenant has appointed William F. J, 
 Hort, Esq. to be resident magistrate for the County of 
 Kilkenny, to reside at Kilkenny, in the room of Jo- 
 seph Greene, Esq. placed on the retired list. 
 
 The Very Rev. Dr. FcnncUy, Vicar General of Ma- 
 dras, and brother to the Bishop of that diocese, is at 
 present in Kilkenny. After a residence of more than 
 twelve years in India, the Rev. gentleman has return- 
 ed to his native country, for the purpose of raising 
 funds to meet the necessities of religion in his mission. 
 He has already appealed with success to the several 
 parishes of Cashel and Emly, his native diocese, as 
 also to the Catholics of several other parts of Ireland. 
 
 TIPPE R ART. 
 
 On the night of the 31st of January, a man, named 
 John Ryan, committed a grievous assault on the per- 
 son of a poor widow's daughter, named Mary Burke, 
 about ten years of age. When the affair was made 
 known to the Birdhill police, they went in pursuit and 
 captured the offender, who has been committed to goal 
 for the offence. — Nenarjii Guardian. 
 
 On the 1st of February, Richard Charles Bradshaw, 
 Esq., A. B. of Nelson street, was admitted an Attor- 
 ney of her Majesty's Court of Exchequer, and a Mem- 
 ber of the Hon. Society of Queen's Inn. 
 
 On the 30th of January, Miss Mary Butler, eldest 
 daughter of the late John Butler, Esq. of Clonmel,and 
 niece of the late Archbishop of Cashel, received the 
 black veil at the Presentation Convent, Thurles. 
 
 Randall McDonnell, Esq. of Slevoir, was drowned 
 on the 4th inst. In stepping fiom a yacht, which be- 
 longed to him, into a small skiff, the latter capsized, 
 and the unfortunate gentleman fell into the water and 
 was drowned. His body was recovered some time 
 after the accident, but life was completely extinct. 
 
 A few weeks ago, a fine little boy about seven 
 years old, son of a gentleman named Ryan, a ma- 
 son, residing at Newport, got a small conch shell, not 
 larger than a pea, usually picked up by visitors to Kil- 
 kee in the summer season, and placing it to his ear 
 to hear, as he imagined, the sea rolling, by some 
 way, he accidentally slipped the shell into his ear, 
 whereby it became closely embedded, and from which 
 the child suffered very much, and was carried to the 
 dispensary, where every surgical means was used to 
 extract the shell, but without effect. 
 
 ■WESTMEATH. 
 
 About 5 o'clock on the evening of Feb. 6tli, a rery 
 respectable farmer, named Reilley, was shot dead by 
 two men, who are at present unknown, in the presence 
 of bis wife, son, and servant boy, while on his return 
 home with them from Kilbeggan market. It ajjpears 
 the unfortunate man was also fired at in Dec. last. 
 
 The erection of the new Catholic church of St. Ma- 
 ry's, Athlone, is adv.anciag with great celerity. The 
 walls are rising up rapidly, and will soon have reached 
 their permanent height. On Sunday, the 3Ist January 
 subscriptions were received at St. Mary's, in further 
 aid of the funds for its completion, and a large sum 
 was coUecto I . Amongst the subscriptions were — J. 
 Murlach, Esq. i'.'JO ; E. Kilduff, Esq. (father of the 
 venerable Bishop of Ardagli,) .£50; P. Rouke, Esq., 
 J. P., X20 ; P. Maxwell, Esq., X20, &c. 
 
 M O N A G II A N. 
 
 The fair of Castleblaney, which was held on the 3rd 
 
 inst, was one of the largest which took place for years. 
 
 The supply of every description of stock was uncom- 
 
 monly largo, but more particularly swine, which was 
 sufficient to meet the very active demand made by 
 dealers, and those who attended to purchase for ex- 
 portation. Pork was fully 49 per cwt, over the prices 
 obtained a moiuh ago in the locality. 
 
 A man named John Kearney, a native of Castleblan- 
 ey, but resident in Scotland for the hist eighteen years, 
 has, with an orphan child, lately shipped over to Bel- 
 fast by the parochial authorities of Edinburgh, becauso 
 from scarcity of work, he had become chargeable upon 
 them. 
 
 TYRONE. 
 
 At the sessional examination of the Queen's Col- 
 lege, Cork, Mr. G. Sigerson (son of W. Sigerson, 
 Esq., Holyhill, Strabano), ex -scholar, obtained in prac- 
 tical chemistry the second place ; in Celtic language, 
 the first; and in Senior Physiology and Anatomy, the 
 certificate of honor. At the Scholarship examination 
 (Nov. 1857), in Senior Anatomy and Physiology, Ma- 
 teria Medica and practical chemistry, tliis young gen- 
 tleman obtained the second place. 
 
 DONEGAL. 
 A correspondent informs us that, on Friday last, 
 the 29th January, Lord Leitrim took his departure 
 from the county Donegal, passing through Letterken- 
 ny on his journey. In Letterkenny he changed horses 
 at the hotel, and, as it was market day, some of the 
 country people recognised his lordship, and intelligence 
 of his identity was quickly circulated. The result was, 
 that an immense crowd collected almost on the instant 
 and roars of groans, yells, and hisses, that might have 
 been heard for miles around, greeted his lordship's de- 
 parture from the north-western province of his partri- 
 monial dominion. — Demj Standard. 
 
 MAYO. 
 
 An influential meeting was held in the Town H.\1I 
 of Tuam on Sunday for the purpose of organising a 
 subscription for the defence of the Rev. Messrs. Con- 
 way and Ryan, who are now being prosecuted by the 
 Attorney General under the directions of the House of 
 Commons. Over 50.£ were subscribed. 
 
 Archbishop MacHale has subscribed £50 towards 
 the fund for defence of the Rev. Messrs. Conway and 
 Ryan. 
 
 G A L W AT. 
 
 The Lord Lieutenant has appointed Edward J. 
 Banon, Esq, to be resident magistrate for the county 
 of Galway, to reside at Tuam, in the room of William 
 F. J. Hort, Esq, removed to another county. 
 
 On Thursday, Feb. 4th, Andrew Banfleld, Esq, 
 swore imformations before A. C. Montgomery, Esq., 
 R. M., against Luke Beahon, for using threatening 
 language towards him when leaving the meeting of 
 the Ballinasloe Town Commissioners on the 29th ult. 
 At the Petty Sessions, Beahon was bound to keep the 
 peace. 
 
 The Rev. P. Curran, P. P., the old and worthy pas- 
 tor of Athenry, breathed his last on Wednesday, the 
 20th ult. His remains were interred in the graveyard 
 of the beautiful new church lately erected in that par- 
 ish. 
 
 We regret to have to record the premature death 
 of the Rev. T. Keavely, the zealous and estimable par- 
 ish priests of Annadown. He was seized with scarlet 
 fever in the discharge of his missionary duties, and 
 was carried off in the prime of life, after an illness of 
 four days. His remains were interred in the parish 
 church of Annadown, on Tuesday, the 1 9th ult., amid 
 the prayerful tears and lamentations of a grateful and 
 devoted flock. 
 
 ROSCOMMON. 
 
 The following commissions in the Roscommon Mi- 
 litia have been signed by Edward King Tenison, Esq,. 
 Lieutenant of the County Roscommon, and approved 
 of by the Earl of Carlisle : — Lieut. Henry Caulfield to 
 be Captain, vice Owen Thos. Lloyd resigned ; Ensign 
 Owen E. Lynch to be Lieutenant, vice Henry Caul 
 field promoted. 
 
54 
 
 IJMSU MISCKLLANV. 
 
 [COSTINUKD TROM PAGE 51.] 
 
 hearth ngin. Thiit's wlmt's cutiin' iiilo my heart, 
 Kaihki'n. Never — never!' 
 
 Mnnv a Iriiil, loo, of another kind was his patience 
 called upon to sustain, pariieularly from llic wealthy 
 and the more elevated in life, when hii inexperience 
 as a mendicant led iiim to solicit their assistance. 
 
 ' Begone, sirrali, olf my grounds !' one would sny. 
 ' Why don't you work, you sturdy impostor,' another 
 would exclaim, ' rather than stroll about so lazily, 
 training your brats to the gallons !' ' You should be 
 taken up, fellow, ns a vagrant,' a iliird woulil observe, 
 'and if J ever catch you coming up my avenue again, 
 depend upon it, I will slip my dogs at you and your 
 idle spawn.' 
 
 Owen, on these occasions, turned away in silence ; 
 he did not curse tliem ; but the pangs of his honest 
 heart went before llim who will, sooner or later, visit 
 upon the heads of such men their cruel spurning aud 
 neglect of the poor. 
 
 ' Kathleen,' he observed to his wife, one day, about 
 a year or more after they had begun to beg ; ' Kath- 
 leen, I have been turnin' it in my mind, that soim^of 
 these childhre might sthrive to cam their bit an' their 
 lit'le coverin' of clo'es, [loor things. We might put 
 them to herd cows in the summer, an' the gtrslias to 
 somethin' else in the fai mers' houses. What do you 
 think, asthore V 
 
 ' For God's sake do, Owen ; sure my heart's crashed 
 to see them — my own thildlire, that I could lay down 
 my life for, beggiu' from door to door. Och, do 
 something for them that way, Owen, an' you'll relieve 
 the heart that loves them. It's a sore sighs to a 
 mother's eye, Owen, to see her childhre beggiu' their 
 morsel.' 
 
 ' It is, darlin'— it is ; we'll hire out the three eldest 
 — Biian, an' Owen, an' Pether, to herd cows; and 
 we may get Peggy into some farmer's house to do 
 loose jobs an' run of messages. Then we'd have only 
 little Kathleen au' poor Ned along wid us. I'll thry 
 any way, an' if 1 can get ihcm places, who knows 
 what may happen ^ I have a jilan iu my head that 
 I'll tell you, thin.' 
 
 'Arrah, what is it, Owen, jewel! Sure if I know 
 it, maybe when I'm sorrowful, that thinkin' of it, an' 
 lookin' forrid to it will make me happier. An' I'm 
 sure ucushla, you would like that.' 
 
 ' But, maybe, Kathleen, if it wouldn't come to pass, 
 that the disappointment 'ud be heavy on you V 
 
 ' Uow could it, Owen ? Sure we cuu'i be worse nor 
 we are, whatever hajipeus T 
 
 'Thrue enough, in-bed, I forgot that; an' yet we 
 might, KaihUen. Sure we'd be worse, if we or the 
 childhre had bad health.' 
 
 ' God forgive me then for what I said ! We might 
 be worse. Well, but what is the plan, Owen V 
 
 ' Why, when we get the cliddhre places, I'll sthrive 
 to take a little house, an' work as a colter. Then, 
 Kathleen, ict'U have a home of our own. I'd work from 
 light to light ; I'd work before hours an" afther hours, 
 ay, nine days in the week, or we'd be comfortable in 
 our own little home AVe might be poor, Kathleen, I 
 know that, an' hard pressed, too, but then, as I said, 
 we'd have our own home, ai\' our own labor.' 
 
 ' Now, Owen, do you think you could manage to 
 get that V 
 
 ' Wait, acushla, till we get the childhre settled.— 
 Then I'll thry the other plan, for it's good to thry 
 anything that could take as out of this disirraeeful 
 life.' 
 
 told that there was that abotit him which gained ro- 1 servants wiih the adjoining farmers. The bovs bought 
 ppect. He had, therelore, little trouble in obtaining ' each a pair of two-vear old heifers, and the 'daughter 
 his wishes on this point, an<l to his great satisfaction, I one. These they sent to graze up in the mountains at 
 ho .«aw three ol them hired out to earn the own sup- { a trifling charge, for the first year or two ; when they 
 '""''■ I hecame springers, they jiut them to rich infield grass 
 
 It was now a matter of some dini<ully for him to ^ for a few months, until tliev got a marketable appear- 
 take a cabm and get employment. They had not a I ance, after which their father brought them to the 
 single article of furniture, and neither bed nor bedding | neighboring fairs, where they usually sold to great ad- 
 wiih the exception of blankets almost worn past use. vantage, in consequence of the small outlay rctjuired 
 
 He was resolved, however, to give up at all risks, the 
 life of a mendicant. For this purpose, he and the wife 
 agreed to adopt a plan quite usual in Ireland, under 
 circumstances somewhat different from his : this was, 
 that Kathleen should coniiunc to beg for their sup- 
 port, until the first half vcar of their children's ser- 
 
 in rearing them. 
 
 Ill fact, the principle of industry ran through the 
 family. There was none of them idle ; none of them 
 a burden or a check upon the jirolits made by the la- 
 borer. On the contrary, " they laid their shoulders to- 
 gether," as the phrase is, and proved to the world,lhat 
 
 hoiild expire ; and in the meantime, that he, if when the jiroper disposition is followed by suitable en- 
 ergy and perseverance, it must generally reward him 
 who possesses it. 
 
 It is certainly true that Owen's situation in life now 
 was essentially dillercnt fiom that which it had been 
 during the latter years of his struggles as a farmer. — 
 It was much more favorable, and far better calculated 
 to develop successful exertion. If there be a class of 
 men deserving public sympathy, it is that of the small 
 farmers of Ireland. 
 
 Their circumstances arc fraught with all that is cal- 
 culated to depress and ruin them ; rents far above their 
 ability, increasing poverty, and bad markets. The 
 land, which curing the last war might have enabled 
 the renter to pay three pounds per acre, and yet still 
 maintain himself with tolerable comfort, could not now 
 pay more than one pound, or, at the most, one pound 
 ten ; and yet such is the infatuation of landlords, that 
 in most instances, the terms of leases taken out then 
 arc rigously exacted. Neither can the remission of 
 yearly arrears be said to strike at the root of the evils 
 under which they suffer. The fact of the dispropor- 
 tionate rent hanging over them is a disheartening cir- 
 cumstance, that paralyses their exertions, and sinks 
 their spirits. 
 
 If a landlord remit the rent for one term he deals 
 more harshly with the tenant at the next; whatever 
 surplus, if any, his former indulgence leaves in the ten- 
 ant's hands, instead of being expended upon his prop- 
 erty as capital, and being ])erniitted to lay the founda- 
 tion of hope and prosperity, is drawn from him, at next 
 term, and the poor struggling tenant is thrown back 
 into as much distress, embarrassment, and despond- 
 
 possible, should secure^employmcnt for himself. By 
 this means, his earnings, and that of his children, 
 might remain untoucln d, so that in half a year, he cal- 
 culated upon being able to furnish a cabin, and pro- 
 ceed, as a cottier, to work for, and support his young 
 children and his wife, who determined, on her part, 
 not to be idle any more than her husband. 
 
 As the plan was a likely one, and as Owen was bent 
 on earning his bread, rather than be a burden to oth- 
 ers, it is unnecessary to say that it succeaded. In les- 
 than a year he found himself once more in a home, 
 and the force of what he felt on sitting, for the first 
 time since his pauperism, at his hearth, may easily be 
 conceived by the reader. For some years after this, 
 Owen got on slowly enough ; his wages as a daily la- 
 borer being so miserable, that it required him to ex- 
 ert every nerve to keep the house over their head. — 
 What howevgr, will not carefulness and a virtuous de- 
 termination, joined to indefatigable induslry, do 1 
 
 After some time, backed as he was by his wife, and 
 even his youngest children, he found himself begin- 
 ning to improve. In the mornings and evenings he 
 cultivated his garden and his rood of potatoe ground. 
 He also eoUec led with a wheelbarrow, which he bor- 
 rowed from an acquaintance, compost from the neigh- 
 boring road ; scoured an old drain before the door ; 
 dug rich earth, and tossed it into the pool of rotten 
 water beside the house, and in fact, adopted several 
 other modes of collccling manure. By this means, 
 he had, each spring, a large portion of rich stuff on 
 on which to plaut bis potatoes. His landlord permit- 
 ted him to spread this for planting upon his land ; and 
 
 Owen ere long, instead of a rood, was able to jilant an I cncy as ever. There are, I believe, few tenants in Ire- 
 half acre, and ultimately, an acre of potatoes. The land of the class I allude to, who are not from one 
 produce of this, being more than sufficient for the con- ! gale to three in arrear. Now, how can it be expected, 
 sumption of his familj', he sold the surplus, and with that such men will labor with spirit and eaniestness to 
 the money gained by the sale was enabled to sow half raise crops whicd tluy may never reap ! crops which 
 an acre of oats, of which, when made into meal, be the landlords may seize upon to secure as much of his 
 
 This humble speculation was a source of great com- 
 fort to them. IMany a time have they forgotten their 
 sorrows in contemplating the simple picture of their 
 
 di>posed of the grtater share. 
 
 Industry is capital; for even when unaided by cap- 
 ital it creates it ; whereas, idleness with ca|)ital, produ- 
 ces only poverty and ruin. Owen, after selling his 
 meal and as much potatoes as he could sjiarc, found 
 
 rent as he can. 
 
 I have known a case in which the arrears wore not , 
 only remitted, but the rent lowered to a reasonable j 
 standard, such as, considering the markets, could bo ' 
 paid. And what was the consequence ? The tenant 
 
 himself able to purchase a cow. Here was the means j who was looked upon as a negligent man, from whom 
 of making more manure; he had his cow, and he had scarcely any rent could be got, took courage, woikcd 
 also straw enough for her provender during the win- his farm wtih a spirit and success which he had not 
 tor. The cow by affording milk to his family, enabled : evinced before ; and ere long was in a capacity to pay 
 them to live more cheajily ; her butter they sold, and i his gales to the very day; so that the judicious and 
 this, in addition to bis surplus meal and potatoes eve- humane landlord was finally a gainer by his own ex- 
 ry year, soon made him feel that he had a few guineas cellcnt economy. This was an experiment, and it sue- 
 to spare. ceeded beyond expectation. 
 
 He now bcthonght him of another mode of helping Owen M'Carthy did not work with more zeal and 
 himself forward iu the world ; after buying the best ability as an humble cottier, than he did, when a farm- 
 " slip" of a pig he could find, a sty was built for her, I or ; but the tide was against him as a landholder, and 
 and ore long he saw a fine litter of young jiigs within j instead of having advanced, he actually lost ground 
 a snug shed. These he reared until they were about until he became a paujier. No doubt, the i)eculiarly 
 two months old, when he sold them, and found that he unfavorable ru.n of two hard seasons, darkened by 
 
 happy little cottage. Kathleen, in particular, drew | had gained considerably by the transaction. This de- sickness and fumine, were formidable obstacles to him; 
 
 with all the vivid coloring of a tender mother and an 
 affectionate wife, the various sources of comfort and 
 contentment to be found even in a cabin, whose in- 
 mates are blessed with a love of independence, indus- 
 try, and mutual affection. 
 
 Owen, in pursuance of his intention, did not neglect, 
 when the proper season arrived, to place out his eldest 
 children among the farmers. The reader need not be 
 
 partment, however, was under the management of but he must eventually have failed, even had they not 
 
 Kathleen, whose life was one of incessant activity and occurred. They accelerated his downfall, but not 
 
 employment. Owen's children's, during the jieriod of cause it. 
 
 his struggles and improvements, were, by his advice, | The Irish people, though poor, are exceedingly anx- 
 multiplying their little capital as fast as himself. The ious to be independent. Their highest ambiiion is to 
 two boys who had now shot up into the stature of hold a farm. So strong is this principle in them that 
 young men, were at work as laboring servants in the \ they will, without a single penny of capital, or any vis- 
 neighborhood. The daughters were also engaged as iblo means to rely on, without consideration or fore- 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 00 
 
 thoHjiht, come forward and offer a rent which, if thoy 
 rotlectcd only for a moment, they must feel to be nn- 
 rensoniibly hif;h- This, indeed, is a great evil in Ire- 
 Isnd. But wh;it, in the meantime, must we think of 
 those imprudent landlords, and their more imprudent 
 agents, who let their land to such persons, without 
 proper incpiiry into Iheir means, knowledge of an-ricul- 
 ture, and general character as moral anil industrious 
 men 1 
 
 A farm of land is to bo let ; it s advertised through 
 the parish; application is to be mada btforo such a 
 day, to so and so. The day arrives, the agent or the 
 limd-steward looks over the proposals, and after sing- 
 ling out the highest biddeer, declares him tenant, as a 
 matter of course. Now, porhaAvs this said tenant 
 does not possess a shilling in the world, nor a shilling's 
 worth. Most likely he is a now-married man, with 
 notliing but his wife's bed and bedding, his wedding- 
 suit, and his blackthorn cudgel, which we may sup. 
 pose him to keep in reserve for the bailiff. 
 
 However, he commences his farm ; and then follow 
 the shiftings, the scramblings, and tlie fruitless strug- 
 gles to success is inipossicle. His farm is not half- 
 tilled : his crops are miserable ! the gale-day has al- 
 ready passed ; yet, he can p.ay nothing until he takes 
 it out of the land. Perhaps, he runs away — makes a 
 moonlight flitting — and, by the aid of his friends, suc- 
 ceeds in bringing the crops with him. The landlord 
 or agent, declares he is a knave ; forgetting that the 
 man had no other alternative, and that they were the 
 greater knaves and fools too, for encouraging Iiim to 
 undertake a task that was beyond his strength.. 
 
 In calamity, we are anxious to derive support from 
 the sympathy of onr friends ; in our success, we are 
 eager to communicate to them the power of partici- 
 pating in our happiness. When Owen once more 
 found himself independenfand safe, he longed to re- 
 alise two plans on which he had fur some time before 
 been seriously thinking. 
 
 The first was to visit his former neighbors, that 
 they might at length know that Owen M'Carthy's sta- 
 tion in the world was such as became his character. 
 The second was, if possible, to take a farm in his 
 native parish, that he might close his days among his 
 companions of his youth, and the friends of his ma- 
 turer years. He had, also, another motive ; there 
 lay the burying-place of the McCarthys, in which 
 slept the mpuldering dust of his own ' golden-hair- 
 ed Alley. With them — in his daughter's grave — he 
 intended to sleep his long sleep. Affection for the 
 dead is the memory o the heart. 
 
 In no other grave-yard could he reconcile it to 
 himself io be buried ; to it had all his forefathers 
 been gathered ; and though calamity had separated 
 him from the scenes where they had passed through 
 existence, yet he was resolved that death should not 
 deprive him of its last melancholy consolation ; — that 
 of reposing witb all that remained of the ' departed,' 
 who had loved liim, and whom he had loved. He 
 believed, that to negleet this, would be to abandon a 
 sacred duty, and felt sorrow at the thought of being 
 like an absent guest from the assembly of his own 
 dead • for there is a principle of undying hope in the 
 heart, that carries, with bold and beautiful imagery, 
 the realities of Ufe into the silent recesses of death 
 itself. 
 
 Having formed the resolution of visiting his old 
 friends at Tubber- Derg, he communicated it fto 
 Kathleen and his family ; his wifj received the in- 
 telligence with undisguised delight. 
 
 ' Owen,' she replied,' 'indeed I am glad you men- 
 tioned it. Many a time the thoughts of our place, an' 
 the people a'lout it, comes over me. I know, Owen, 
 it'll go to your heart to see it ; but still, avoumeen, 
 vou'd like, too, to see the ould fitces an' the warm 
 hearts of them thht pitied us, and helped us, as well 
 as they could, when we war broken down.' 
 
 ' I would, Kathleen ; but I'm not goin' merely to 
 see them and the place. I intind, if I can, to take a 
 bit of land somewhere near Tnbber Derg. I'm unasy 
 
 in my mind, for 'fraid I'd not sleep in the gravo-yard 
 where all belonging to me lie' 
 
 A chord of the mother's heart was touched ; and in 
 a moment the memory of their beloved child brought 
 the tears to her eyes. 
 
 ' Owen, avournecn, I have one rcquist to ax of you, 
 an' I'm sure iCou won't refuse it to me ; if I die afore 
 you, let be buried wid Alley. Who has a right to 
 sleep so near her as her own mother '!' 
 
 • The child's in my heart still,' said Owen, suppres- 
 sing his emotion ; ' thinkin' of the unfortunate morn- 
 in' I went to Dublin, brings her back to me. I tee 
 her standin', wid her fair pale face— pale— oh, my 
 God !— wid hunger an' sickness — her little thin clo'es, 
 and her goolden hair, tossed about by the dark blast — 
 the tears in her eyes, and the smile, that she once had, 
 on her face— houldin' up her mouth; and saying ' Kiss 
 me agin, father;' as if she knew, somchnw, that I'd 
 never see her, nor her me any more. An' whin I 
 looked back, as I was turning the corner, there she 
 stood, strainin' her eyes aftor her father, that she was 
 thin takin' the last sight of until the judgment-day.' 
 
 His voice here became broken, and he sat down for 
 a few minutes. 
 
 ' It 's athrange," he added, with more firmness, — 
 ' how she's so often in my mind ! 
 
 ' But, Owen dear,' replied Kathleen, ' sure it was the 
 will of God that she should lave us. She's now a bright 
 angel in heaven, an' I dunna if it's right — indeed, I 
 doubt it's sinful for us to think so much about her.— 
 Who knows but her innocent spirit is makin' inther- 
 cession for us all, before the blessed Mother o' God ! 
 AVho knows but it was her that got us the good for- 
 tune that flowed in upon us, an' that made our strug- 
 glin' an' our laborin' turn out so hwhy.' 
 
 The idea of being <«c% or unluclcy is, in Ireland, an 
 enemy to industry. It is certainly better that the peo- 
 ple should believe success in life to be, as it is, the re- 
 sult of virtuous exertion, than of contingent circum- 
 stances, over which they have no control. Still there 
 was something beautiful in the superstition of Kath- 
 leen's affections ; something that touched the heart and 
 its dearest associations. 
 
 ■ It's very true, Kathleen,' replied her husband ; ' but 
 God is ever ready to help them that keejis an honest 
 heart, an' do every thing in their power to live credit- 
 ably. They may fail for a time, or he may thry them 
 for awhile, but sooner or later goodintintions and hon- 
 est labor will be rewarded. Look at ourselves — blessed 
 be his name!' 
 
 ■But whin do you mane to go to Tubber Derg, 
 Owen V 
 
 ' In the beginnin' of the next week. An' Kathleen, 
 ahagur, if you remimber the hitther mornin' we came 
 upon the world — but we'll not be spakin' of that now. 
 I don't like to think of it. Some other time, maybe, 
 when we are settled among ould friends, I'll mintion 
 it.' 
 
 ' ^^ ell, the Lord bless your endayvors, any how ! 
 Och, Owen, do thry an' get us a snug farm some- 
 where near them. But you didn't answer me about 
 Alley, Owen?' 
 
 ' Why you must have your wish, Kathleen, although 
 I intended to keep that place for myself. Still we can 
 sleep one on each side of her ; an' that may be asily 
 done, for our buryin' ground is large : so set your 
 mind at rest on that head. I hope God won't call us 
 till we see our ehildhre settled dacently in the world. 
 But sure, at all evints, let bis blessed will be done !' 
 
 ' Amin ! amin ! It's not right of any one to keep 
 their hearts fixed too much upon the world ; nor even, 
 they say, upon one's own ehildhre.' 
 
 ' People may love their childlire as much as they 
 plasc, Kathleen, if they don't let their rjrah for them 
 spoil the crathurs, by givin' them their owti will, till 
 they become headstrong an' overbearin'. Now let my 
 linen he as white as a bone beibre Monday, plase good- 
 ness ; I hope by that time Jack Dogherty will have 
 mv new clo'es made; for I intind to go as dacent as 
 over they seen me in my best days.' 
 ' An' so you will, too, aviUish. Throth, Owen, it's 
 
 you that'll be the proud man, sleppin' in to them in 
 all your grandeur! Ha, ha, ha 1 The spiiito'tho 
 M'Carthy's is in you si ill, Owen.' 
 
 ' Ha, ha, ha ! It is, darlin' ; it is, indeed, an' I'd bo 
 sorry it wasn't. I long to see poor AVidow Murray. 
 I dunna is her son Jemmy married. Who knows, 
 afihcr all we suffered, but I might be able to help her 
 yet ? — that is, if she stands in need of it. But I sup- 
 pose, her childhre's grown up now, an' able to assist 
 lier. Now, Kathleen, mind Monday next; an' have 
 everything ready. I'll stay away a week or so, at the 
 most, an afther that I'll have news for you about all 
 o' them.' 
 
 AVhen Monday morning arrived, Owen found him- 
 self ready to set out for Tulibcr Derg. The tailor had 
 not disappointed him, and Kathleen, to do her justice, 
 took care that the proofs of her good housewifery 
 should be apparent in the whiteness of his linen. — 
 After breakfast he dressed himself in all his finery; 
 and it would be difficult to say wlicthcr tlie harmless 
 vanity that peeped out occasionally from his simplic- 
 ity of character or the open and undisguised triumph 
 of liis faithful wife, whose eye rested on him with 
 pride and affection, was most calculated to produce a 
 smile. 
 
 'Now, Kathleen,' said he, when preparing for his 
 immediate departure, ' I'm thinkin' of what they'll 
 say, when they see me so smooth an' warm-lookin' . 
 I'll engage they'll be axin' one another, ' Musha, how 
 did Owen M'Carthy get an at all, to be so well to do 
 in the world, as he appears to be, afther falin' on his 
 ould farm V 
 
 'Well, but, Owen, you know how to manage 
 them ' 
 
 ' Throth, I do that. But there is one thing they'll 
 never get out o' me, any way.' 
 
 ' You won't tell that to any o' them, Owen V 
 
 ' Kathleen, if I thought they only suspected it, I'd 
 never show my face in Tubber Derg again. I think I 
 could bear to be— an' yet it 'ud be a hard struggle 
 wid me too— but I think I could bear to be buried 
 amoniT black strangers, rather than it should be said, 
 
 over my grave, among my own, 
 
 ' there's where Owen 
 
 M'Carthy lies— who was the only man of his name, 
 that ever begged his morsel on the king's highway. 
 There he lies, the descendant of the great M'Carthy 
 Mores, an, yet he was a beggar ' I know, Kathleen 
 achora, it's neither a sin nor a shame to ax one's bit 
 from our fellow-creatures, whin fairly brou ght to it, 
 widout any fault of our own ; but still I feel some- 
 thing in me, that I can't bear to think of it widout 
 shame an' heaviness of heart.' 
 
 ' Well, it's one comfort, that nobody knows it but 
 ourselves. The poor ehildhre. for their own sakes, 
 won't ever breathe it ; so that it's likely the secret i'U 
 be berrid wid us.' 
 
 ' I hope so, acushla. Does this coat sit usy atween 
 the shouldhers "i I feel it catch me a little.' 
 
 ' The sorra nicer. There, it was only your waist- 
 coat that was turned down in the collar. Here — here, 
 hould your arm. There now — it wanted to be pulled 
 down a little at the cuffs. Owen, it's a beauty, an I 
 think I have good right to be proud of it, for it's every 
 thread my own spinnin'.' 
 
 ' How do I look in it, Kathleen 1 Tell me the 
 thruth, now.' 
 
 ' Thtoth, you're twenty years younger ; the never a 
 day less.' 
 
 ' I think I need'nt be ashamed to afore my old 
 friends in it, any way. Now bring me my staff, from 
 undher the bed above, an' in the name o' God, I'll set 
 out.' 
 
 ■ Which o' them, Owen ? Is it the o.ik or tlie black- 
 thorn .' ' 
 
 [to be continukd.] 
 
 ' Did vou know I was here ? ' said the bellows to the 
 fire. '0' yes, I always contrive to get wind of you 
 was the reply. 
 
 A tailor speaking of the winter fashions, says, very 
 eorreetlv, ' There is not much chani/e in gentlemen's 
 pants this month. 
 
56 
 
 IRISH MIS(^ELLANY. 
 
 (ilcnRarin-: who 1ms not liennl of this most enchant- 
 ing spot ? The author of ' Sketches in the North and South 
 oflreland,' has pointed out to us the following passages 
 from his work, and we are sure our readers will easily ex- 
 cuse us for preferring it to any thing of our own. Travell- 
 ing from Bantr;- to (jlengarilf. he says. 
 
 • And now, liaviug coa.sted along the bay for four or live 
 miles we ascended up a clear mountain stream, and entered, 
 by a defile into a mountain valley. The stream here turned 
 to the right, and we could see it writhing like a silver eel 
 through a green valley that extended under the mountain of 
 the Vriesfs Leap, and lost itself in the eastern hills, towards 
 Muskerry. My friends excited my curiosity, and caused 
 me to lament that pre.=s of time would not allow a visit to a 
 lovely lake in this eastern direction, which lies there in all 
 the retirement of sublime seclusion. But I had (ilengariff 
 before me. Am ugly hill, an uninteresting view of liantry 
 Bay, a bad road over a dreary moor— a scene where charity 
 companions may abstract themselves into talk of other 
 places and other times. In the midst of our chat I became 
 dumb— dispute argument all fled. • There's f.lengariiri ' I 
 believe my ft-iends actually contrived to abstract me thus, 
 and engage the mind in other trains of thought in order to 
 produce effect. They certainly succeeded I had heard 
 much of this (ilengariir-the Bough tilen- Vallis Aspera, 
 a« 0-Sullivan in his Catholic Hi.^^tory calls it. As I passed 
 along from east to west of the county of Cork every one ex- 
 pressed the hoiK timt I should not leave the county until I 
 had seen Glcngariir. I would as soon have gone through 
 Italy, and passed by lionie:— and now I was there— had it 
 all under my eye! And was 1 di.=appointed? Not in the 
 Jcart. Nothing in Ireland isequal to it. or can be brought 
 into comparison; it is singular, it is unique. It is a scene 
 that winter ha.s less effect on than could be imagined, I may 
 fay it was winter when I saw it-at least winter lingered 
 outlielapofspring-the2othofMarch;yetalI was grand, 
 and nt the same time beautiful, because verdant. 
 
 ' A bay runs in at right angles from the east and west di- 
 rection of Baniry Kay. This bay is sheltered entirely at its 
 entrance by an island, on which a Martello tower is erected, 
 Tims tlie landlocked estuary looks to be a lake. In no re- 
 FpcctitdifTcrslVomnlake, save that it is superior. Here 
 no ugly strand, muddy and fujtid. left bare by the receding 
 tide: here no deposit of filth and ooze. No; the only thin"' 
 that marks the ebb, is a line of dark demarkation that sui° 
 rounds the bay, and gives a curious sort of relief (some- 1 
 what like the black frame of a brilliant picture) to the green I 
 translucent waters of this gem of the ocean. No fresh wat- ' 
 cr lake can beat all compared to it; not even the upper ' 
 lake of killknrney can stand the competition. Uere is the ' 
 sea-the green, variable, evcrchanging sca-withoul any of | 
 its .lefects or i e.ormiiies. J declare 1 do not know how to I 
 bcgin,orwherctotakeup.oriu what wav to put forth the , 
 d.oramic conception I have iu my mii.ds recollection of this | 
 
 I 
 
 GLENGAEIPF. 
 
 delightful glen. Jlounfaine— why you have them of all 
 forms, elevations, and outlines: Hungry Mountain, with 
 itscataractofeight hundred feet falling from its side; Su- 
 gar-loaf, so conical, so bare, so white in its quartzose for- 
 mation; SliveGoul, the pathway of the fairies; and Esk 
 Mountain, over which I was destined (o climb my toilsome 
 way : every hill had its peculiar interest, and each, accord- 
 ing to the fimeof the day orthe slate of the atmosphere, 
 presented a pictuie so mutablc-or bright or gloomy' 
 or near or distant-vallics laughing in sunshine, shroud- 
 ed in dark and undefined masses of shade: and so decep- 
 tive; so variable were the distances and capabilities of 
 prospect, that in the morning you could see a hare bound- 
 ing along on the ranges of those hills, that, at noonday 
 were lost in the grey indistinctness of distant vision. Then 
 the glen itself, unlike other glens and valleys that interpose 
 between ranges of mountains, was not flat, or soft, or 
 smooth— no meadow, no morass, nor bog— but the most ap- 
 parently tumultuous, yet actually regular, congeries of 
 rocks that ever was seeu. .Suppose you the Bay of Biscay iu 
 a hurricane from the west— suppose you the tremendous 
 swell when the top-gallant mast of a ship would be hid with- 
 in the trough of its waves— and now suppose, that by some 
 Almighty liat, all this vexed ocean was arrested in an in- 
 stant, an there fixed as a specimen ofGod's wonders in the 
 deep. Such you may suppose Gli'Ugarin'. It appears as if 
 the stratifications of the rock were forced up by some uni- 
 form power tVom the central abyss, and there left to stand 
 at a certain and defined angle, a solidified storm. And now 
 suppo6e,that in every indenture, hole, crevice, and inflex- 
 ion of tliose rocks, grew a yew or holly ; there the yew, with 
 its yellower tinge; and here the arbutus with its red 
 stem and leaf of brighter green, and its rough, wild, uncon- 
 troled growth, adorning, and at the same time disclosing 
 the romantic singularity of the scene. I know not that ev- 
 er I read of such a place, so wild and so beautiful 1 tliink 
 
 Irecolleet—Cervante's description of the Sieru Morcna, in 
 Don Quixolte, with all its Ilexes, and oaks, and cork trees. 
 Could it beat all like this? or is it like the grand Chartre- 
 use near (jrenoblc.' 
 
 'I will fairly confess to you that I was never more at a 
 loss than how to get ou or get out of Glengarifl", I know- 
 that my poorpen cannot do justice to this scenery, and if 
 you were for half an hourtliere,you would accord that he 
 mutt be a felicitous describer, indeed who could convey a ' 
 snilablcidea of this curious valley.— Tlic draughtsman it is 
 true, might catch the charnctcrand convey the idea of some 
 insulated spot— the painter might arrest upon his canvass 
 some of tho'c combinations of light and shade that com- 
 municate a happy, but changeful glory to some selected | 
 scene ; but the whole panorama— to convey a suitable repre- ' 
 sentation of it— to impress upon the mind an adequate idea 
 ofthis singular glen, the pencil, the pallet, as well as the 
 pen, must fail. But, reader, take what I can give— atd per- 
 
 j haps the only thingi mii give, will be a longing desire ot 
 inspecting this beautiful valley with your own eyes. 
 
 I ' I ascended a parthway, accompanied by one who had a 
 painter's eye, a poet's mind, and a heart so harmonized as 
 to be ever ready to rise from the contemplation of nature 
 to look up to nature's God, and say 
 
 ' These are Tiiv glorious works, I'arent of Good.' 
 We proceeded through woods of oak, birch, holly, arbutus 
 —here ascending precipitious rocks, to gain a bird's-eye 
 view of all around— again we sank into a deep dargie, 
 through which, darkly and far beneath, a river forced its 
 noisy and petulant channel;— again wo advanced where 
 the rocks and precipices receded from the stream, and a 
 lovely meadow expanded itself, through which the waters 
 glided, silently and slowly kissing the flowering banks; and 
 all was still,— except that here a heron rose with broad and 
 heavy wing, and shrieked as he ascended from his solitude 
 —and there the water-hen gave forth its scolding note, as 
 it splashed across the placid pool— and from under the 
 fringing alder the sudden trout rising, and springing at the 
 May fly, broke the translucent aiul glassy surface, with all 
 its reflected images, into shiveriug and expanding undula- 
 tions. Immediately around us were enclosing hills, in one 
 place mantled with thick woods, and in another bare, grey 
 and craggy, except that a yew spead its palmated arms out 
 ofthischasm, orau arbutus flung its red rough branches 
 that preipice, and again the ivy clinging close round 
 that overhanging stratum of rock, seemed to be its only 
 su])port, binding it up from tumbling in mighty ruin below. 
 Thcp all around, in the distant, but well-defined circle, were 
 the serrated mountains of every size, shape, and elevation : 
 and to the right, where the mountain formed what is called 
 a gorge, but which the Irish language expresses by a word 
 signifying 'a lovely lap:' extended a deep dark valley that 
 seemed to cleave into the very heart ofthe mountain chain, 
 and which, from where we stood, appeared to have no end 
 to its extent, or bottom to its depth. The sun that had 
 now passed its meridian, was casting its evening rays on 
 the southeastern face oflhis immense chasm, which was as 
 ptrpoiidicular as a wall formed by the line of an artist's 
 plummet ; and still this abyss, though two miles off, (as my 
 conductor informed me,) from the clearness of the atmos- 
 jibeie, appeared so near aud fine in its outline, that while 
 the bottom was cast in the indistinct gloom of its own depth 
 its upper parts, open to the evening light, sparkled in the 
 sun, and presenteil the very ledge on which eagles for cen- 
 turies had formed their nests, and reared their young un- 
 aijproachuble by the common arts or enterprise of mau.' 
 
 ■WlilTEKS AND KEADEKS. 
 
 None but those who have nuide the experiment can tell 
 the difliculty ofthe task— viz: to please every one, yet it is 
 attainable to a great extent, if attempted with houetty of 
 purpose, aud uutiriug perfccvcrauce. 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 57 
 
 NOTICES TO COKKESrONDENTS. 
 
 'TnE Rev. F. S.', 'Wii-oonsiii. Vour fnvor is received 
 nnd its contcuts duly noted. Tlio words nrc tYom n populni- 
 bttiliid, called ' Tlu Poor Irish Simngfr.' Wc huvc not a per- 
 fect copy of the song but will procure one nnd piibliuli it as 
 eoon as possible. 
 
 ' CiiiCAOO.' Mr. P. Sherlock will furnish our friends iu 
 Chicago witli the Miscellnny. 
 
 Mu. A. Winch, 102 Chestnut St., rniLADELnnA, is 
 our agent for the Quaker city. 
 
 • UoBV O'JtoKE.' Your illustratioua namesake says 
 ' there's luck in odd numbers,' but your numbcrB are too 
 odd for insertion in the Miscetlany. 
 
 ' S. R,' li Columbia St. Boston. The salary of the Lord 
 Lieutenant of Ireland is i:20,000 a year. The I'rime Minis- 
 tor ot England receives io.UOO per year for his services. 
 Lord ralnierston was born in I'almorstou, Ireland. 
 
 ' Shis Faxe.' Vour communication is received and will 
 be attended to as soon as wc can give it the consideration 
 it deserves. 
 
 ' William JIurfhy,' Pittsburgh. Your verses are not 
 suited to our publication. This answer will apply to seve- 
 ral other -poetic' contributors. 
 
 • Many Fkiesds.' The celebrated speech of Kobert 
 Emniett is too long to be given in the Mismllany: but our 
 publishers intend to print it, in a neat manner, suitable for 
 framing. We will then present it as a ' supplement' to all 
 our subscribers, gratis. 
 
 ■Exile,' from East Boston, is in type, and will appear in 
 our next number. A crowd of otlier matter compels us to 
 defer it this week. 
 
 [C7"\Ve have so TRAVELLixa AGEKT9. Our friends 
 ought to send their subscriptions direct to the publishers, 
 through the mail, or procure their papers at some periodi- 
 cal store. 
 
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 The Miscellany may also be had retail ,of newspaper and 
 periodica] dealers throughout the country. 
 
 New York. 
 
 Philadelphia. 
 Ohio. 
 
 Canada West. 
 
 Boston, Feb. 27, 1858. 
 Messrs. Jackson & Foynes : — 
 
 tientlemen— At a recent meeting of the Government 
 of the Mechanic Apprentices' Library Association, I was 
 instructed, as Cor. ,Sec., to tender to you the thanks of that 
 body for the donation of vour valuable paper. Trusting 
 that this slight equivalent for yourlibeiality will meet with 
 your approval, 1 remain very gratefully y 
 
 \C^ "We cannot take any notice of communications in- 
 tended for insertion, if written on both sides of the paper. 
 
 [Cr* Correspondents must furnish us with their names, in 
 confidence, or their favors cannot be published. 
 
 OUR FRIENDS IN CINCINNATI wiU be supplied with our 
 paper by JI. H. Bird. 
 
 DuNNiGAN's American Catholic Almanac and list 
 of the Clergy for the year of our Loid 1858, has been re- 
 ceived Ijy us from the popular publishing house of P. Don- 
 ahoe. Esq., of Franklin Street, where this useful article is 
 for sale- 
 
 ST. PATinrK-S NIGllTI A grand Vocal and Instru- 
 mental Concert will be given by the St. Cecilia Choral 
 Societv. (one hundred singers.) and Brass Band attiiched, 
 a-^sisted by the lull (iermania Oichestra. and Mendelssohn 
 Glee Club, at 'f remont Temple, Wednesday, Maich 17, 1858. 
 Mr. John Falkenstein, Diiector, Organist of St. Mary's 
 Church. Boston. 
 
 Tickets 2.j cts., to be had at the Pilot Office, and the fol- 
 lowing gentlemen : 
 
 Boston— E. A. Palmer, E. A. Coggins, Patrick Donahoe, 
 T. Moonev, James u'Xeil, M. Dnherty, Martin GriHin,C. 
 Dohertv, E. S. Wright. Wm. S. Mclion-an, Dennis Bonner, 
 M. A. Farren, Wm. Dorcv, J. Cunningham, Dr. Walter 
 Walsh, Wm. Covle, .1. N. McUevilt, T. Powers, J. W. Bar- 
 ron, Geo.E. Murphv, F. OUowri, Wm. HaHey, Jas. Galla- 
 gher, M. Carney, John Flynn, John Doherty. 
 
 South Boston— Dr. Ferguson, Wm. McA\oy, Ambrose 
 A. Thayer. 
 
 East Boston— M. Doherty, P. McDonough, II. Kingman, 
 Dr. Tavlor. 
 
 Rox6ury— Joseph Walker, M. Mischler, J. Murphy, Mar- 
 tin Lvnch, James Baxter. 
 
 Cliarlcstown— M. Lcnnan, C. Grace, F. Holland, P. II. 
 Keagle. 
 
 Cambridge and East Cambridge— Wm. Brine, John Coni- 
 an, John Uaegney, John F. Bnue, Jos. F. Scanlau, Jas . 
 Ca.ssidy, J. Kieruan. mO 
 
 * LECTURE will be delivered in the ha.-^enient of St. 
 J\. Vincent's Church, Purchase St., (for the beuelit of the 
 Suudav School.) on Sunday Evening, March 14th, by Uev. 
 J.T, Koddan. Subject- Joan of Arc. Lecture to com- 
 mence at 7 1-2 o-clock. 
 
 Tickets a5 et.--. Children half price. To be had at the 
 usual places aud at the door on that evening. m(> 
 
 IRISH MISCELLANY, 
 
 BOSTON, SATURDAY, MARCH 6, 1858 
 
 A MONUMENT TO SARSFIELD. 
 It has long been a reproach to Ireland, that while 
 she has erected numerous monuments to the skill and 
 bravery of English Kings, English Generals, English 
 Admirals, she has not one monument of note to per- 
 petuate the fame of her scholars, her statesmen, or 
 her soldiers, whose name illumiue the brightest pages 
 of her history. 
 
 This reproach, it seems, Ireland is at last determin- 
 ed to blot out ; and we trust she will make reparation 
 for the neglect with which she has hitherto treated so 
 many of her distinguished sons. Dublin has erected 
 a monument to Ireland's poet, and Limerick is about 
 doing justice to Saksfield by erecting a monument 
 to him who performed such prodigies of valor in de- 
 fence of that city. 
 
 The name of Sarsfield is to this day beloved in Ire- 
 land, for the fidelity he displayed to his native soil, 
 in her great struggle with a foreign usurper, as well 
 as for his extraordinary bravery in the hour of peril 
 and danger ; while the name of Luttrell the traitor is 
 remembered only to be execrated. 
 
 Immediately after the defeat at the Boyne, the cow- 
 ardly James fled to Dublin, and from thence to France, 
 where, to cover his own pusillanimity and cowardice, 
 he charged his defeat upon the want of bravery in 
 his Irish troops. The Irish army retired upon Limer- 
 ick. Attempts were made to induce the Irish to ca- 
 pitulate with the English, but Sarsfield by his zeal 
 and popularity, frustrated the base design. Dissen- 
 tions arose in the Irish Councils, the native Irish wish- 
 ed to fight it out to the last and die if necessary, in 
 their trenches in defence of their native land, and the 
 failh of thtir fathers. 
 
 On the other hand, those of English descent wished 
 to make terms with the enemy, and thus save their 
 estates. The timid councils of the latter were over- 
 come by the influence of Sarsfield, with the common 
 soldiers, who had no idea of sacrificing their country 
 and religion for the accommodation of the former. 
 
 Lausun, llic French commander, desirous of return- 
 ing to his own country, withdrew the French troops 
 from Limerick, and retired to Galway, whither he was 
 soon followed by Tyrconnell with his command. To 
 force the Irish to surrender, they tookwitli them largo 
 quantities of supplies and ammunition. The natives 
 bore up against all disadvantages and resolved to de- 
 fend the place to the last extremity. OlBeers, soldiers 
 and civilians ; women and children, worked night and 
 day at the fortifications. Sarsfield who commanded 
 the horse, intercepted supplies intended for the foi-ces 
 of William, and at Kellunamona, blew up the English 
 artillery. 
 
 James not content with having ignominiously de- 
 serted his own army, sought to create furtlier dissen- 
 tions and desertions in tlie ranks, by absolving hij of- 
 ficers from their allegiance, and called upon them to 
 follow him to France. Sarsfield's popularity counter- 
 acting the design, succeeded in shaming both Lausun 
 and Tyrconnell into some show of activity. 
 
 Disscntions and strife again iippcarcd in the garris- 
 on, owing to personal animosity among its otficei-s, 
 w-hich more than once placed its gallant defenders in 
 the most critical position. 
 
 William, having repaired the loss of his artillery, 
 commenced the siege on the 18th of August, 1G90. 
 
 The garrison consisted of thirty thousand foot, one 
 I half of whom only were armed. The cavalry, thirty- 
 five hndred strong, under the Duke of Berwick, were 
 posted on the right bank of the Shannon, and prevent- 
 ed the English from investing that side. So weak 
 were the fortifications, that the French general declared 
 in derision, that ' his master could take the place with 
 roasted apples.' It had no outworks, no glacis, no pal- 
 lisadocs, fosses, or any of the other works nsually 
 thrown up to retard the advance of an enemy. The 
 old walls were assailed with the fire of thirty pieces of 
 heavy artillery. After eight days continual firing, 
 William summoned the garrison to surrender, but his 
 summons was received with haughty defiance. On the 
 27lh of August, ten thousand men were ordered for a 
 general assault. The trenches being only a few feet 
 from the pallisadc, the English were at the summit of 
 the breach before the alarm was given, and descended 
 into the city. The garrison, however, soon advanced 
 on all sides and attacked the assailants with sncli vigor 
 and bravery as to force them back to the breach. 
 
 Here one of the most terrible conflicts on record took 
 place, and the valor of the native Irish soldiers shone 
 out with such resplendent Instre as to shame their 
 calumniators. The women of Limerick mingled in 
 the contest with their husbands and brothers, and by 
 their voices encouraged them in the deadly struggle. 
 Not content with this, these heroic females assailed the 
 besiegers with stones, and, as the historian from whom 
 we compile, says, ' exhibited the valor of their Celtic 
 ancestors in their wars with the Romans.' Brigadier 
 Talbot sallying out of the horn work, took the assail- 
 ants in the rear, and bore them down amid the shouts 
 and triumph of the besieged. 
 
 Never was town better attacked or defended. Noth- 
 ing was left undone which the skill of able generals or 
 the science of war could bring to the aid of the Iwsicg- 
 ers, while the besieged had to defend chiefly upon their 
 own constancy and courage. In this trying hour these 
 did not desert them ; the Irish array was victorious in 
 this the first seige of Limerick, and the Prince of 
 Orange was utterly discomfitted. 
 
 ' Sarsfield was of anoble family, possessed of £2000, 
 a year, then a large sum ; was well natured, affable, of 
 a tall, and manly figure and highly accomplished. He 
 had been an ensign in France, and a lieutenant of the 
 Guards in England. The destruction of William's 
 convoy raised him to the highest pitch of popularity. 
 ' Arminus,' says the historian, "was never more popu- 
 lar among thj Germans, than Sarsfield among the 
 Irish.' ' No man was ever more attached to his country, 
 or more devoted to his king and religion.' 
 
 We trust the monument to this brave Irish soldier, 
 in the city he so gallantly defended, will be worthy of 
 him and an honor to Ireland. Cannot the exiles in 
 America assist in this national work 1 
 
 ST. PATRICK'S DAY. 
 
 The old Irish Charitaule Societt of Boston 
 will celebrate the feast of Ireland's Patron Saint, on 
 the 17th inst., by a dinner at the Parker House. This 
 is the oldest charitable society in Boston and is, wo 
 are glad to hear, in a highly flouri.''hing condition. 
 
 The Shamrock SociiiTY celebrate the feast by a 
 dinner at Dooley's Hotel. This society now numbers 
 one hundred and twenty members, and was never more 
 prosperous. 
 
 Wc shall publish reports of the various celebrations 
 on the 17th, if furnished to us by the secretaries. 
 
 An AroLOGT. — The dngrel set to music in our last 
 number, was given to llie musical composer by mis- 
 take, instead of a piece which wc intended to publish. 
 The whole edition was worked ofi' before the mistake 
 was discovered, and before the editor saw the words, or 
 it should not have appeared. Such a thing shall not 
 occur again. 
 
 Tliis week we give Moore's beautiful melody ' As a 
 beam o'er the face of the waters may glow,' and shall 
 follow it with choice compositions by the best Irish au- 
 thors, arranged for the piano-forte. 
 
58 
 
 IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 LITERATUKB. 
 
 A STORK NKVIClt TOLD BEFORE, 
 ratrii-k Mullaly »iis a line old mnn, who luul for 
 some poliiii-al rfiisonor iinoilicr, emigrated from the 
 couiiiy Tippemry in the days of his yonlh, and in the 
 evening of his ago was to bo found workiiij; as a hud- 
 gcr in iho iioii^hborhood of Leixlip. 
 
 Patrick was a very clever hand at a story, and when- 
 ever ' a wake ' was a s^oiiifr, he was not only sure of 
 peinp invited, but also certain of {rcltin"; tho hottest 
 and stron^st glass of imneli that was handed round 
 to the motirtiers. 
 
 It was at tho early hour of 2 in the morning, upon 
 one of these uielancholy and merry occasions, when 
 the girls were tired of ' forfeits,' and the hoys of re- 
 deeming them with kisses, that ' ould Pat,' was called 
 upon for a story, and a noggin of whisky made into tlie 
 sweetest punch was promi-ed him, if he would tell the 
 company something which not one amongst them had 
 ever heanl before. 
 
 This was a request which puzzled Pat for some time ; 
 but afier taking otV bis old flax wig, and rubbing 
 his polished pate two or three times with a blazing 
 scarlet cotton hundkerchief, he called for a sup by way 
 of ' earenst,' and then commenced his story in the fol 
 lowing manner : 
 
 ' Boys and girls, I wish yer very good health intire- 
 ly ; I wish yer good health all round, from wall to 
 wall, and an inch in tlie wall besides, for fear I'd lave 
 any of ye out. 
 
 I will now tell yez a slitory which I never told yez 
 before, and the rason I din't mintion it to yez is that 
 it never occured to mcsilf, and I therefore couldn't 
 answer for the thruth of it , but it happened to an ould 
 grand uncle of mine, won Dennis JIullaly, who I heard 
 tell it at a bunlire in Thrules, that was had won night, 
 bo rason of some dacent body being married a person 
 put out of the way, a magistrate houghed, a procthor 
 shot, or some other raasonable cause of rejicing. 
 
 Me grand-uncle was a bit paralytic in the rij;!it hand, 
 ye see, an' he was not what ye'd call right in his head ; 
 but for all that he'd know a bad shil.ing from a silver 
 teiter, as well as the best of U5. Somebody or another 
 at the bonfire asked the ould man how he lost the use 
 of bis right band, and this is wiiat he told us : 
 
 ' I was," sez he, ' as foolish in me day as the best of 
 ye, and amongst me other fooleries I fell in love wid 
 won Judy McDermott, who lived within four fields of 
 me cabin. Judy was a dacent, comely, handsome, 
 mighty, well-looking girl but as poor as a church mouse 
 an', to mike the niatlher worse I was a dnlc poorer. 
 I was up to me head an" ears in love with her, and I'd 
 have given all the world to be able to marry her. 
 
 ' At this prisint time, whon I was in love, I was sit- 
 lin' won day on 'be Fairy Fort, outside of the town, 
 and ihinkin' to mcself, O, thin, if won of the good 
 people that goes hoppin' about this fort, whin the moon 
 shines, was to see me dissolute condition, an' that won 
 anim.ll amongst ihem had in his bit of a body a heart 
 as big itself as a blackberrj-, I think he would be afther 
 lendin' me for two or three hours won of ihera purses 
 til U is as full of yallcr goold as a bee hive is of swate 
 honey. 
 
 I thought this, an' not a word in the world had I said 
 when I heard a hammer rappin' at the sole of my shoe, 
 as loud an' as hard as Lidy Baker's coachman knocks 
 at the docthor's duor. 
 
 ' Wlist, in (be world is this, sez I, ' that 'ud be troub- 
 lin' me fat ? ' 
 
 ' It's I,' sez a voice as large as a giant's, coming 
 from unthcrmc shoe; 'an if ye don't be after takin' yer- 
 nasty SjiawJ'ioue of a fut off the an-tbole I's ihryin to 
 get out of, maybe it'll be worse for yez.' 
 
 'I beg yer honor's pardon,' answered I, removing 
 me fut to another part of the field, an' takin' me hat 
 off me head at the same time. 
 
 What do you think I should see comin' ontof a hole 
 in tlie grass that ye could hardly run yer finger into, 
 put a little, weeny, deeny, dawoy bit of a cratbur of 
 an idea of a small thaste of a gintlcman, about the 
 thickness an' length of a middle-sized radi.-h, an' haviu' 
 
 a threc-oocked hat, a red coat an' goold epaulets on him, 
 like an oHieer, red breeches, un' a j)air of red boots like 
 ajackdaw ! 
 
 I had me spade stickin' fast in the ground before mo 
 an' the moment the little chap got out of the hole he 
 clinied up the space as nimble as a sailor, and when 
 he got to the handle ho sat down straddle-legs on it 
 as if it were a horse, an' takin' a little pipe out of his 
 little pocket, he put it to his button hole of a nioulb 1 
 and began smokin' away ; and ye would think that 
 ever whiff that came from him was a big hayrick on 
 Are. 
 
 After takin' two or three whiffs' an' nearly blindcn' 
 me wid smoke, he said, as ho fi.\ed his fiery little eyes 
 on me, * Good morrow, an' betiher luck to yez Den- 
 nis Mullaly ! ' 
 
 Good morrow, an' God save ye kindly,' I answered. 
 
 'If _ve be afther saying sich a word to me agen, ye 
 U-looking 'thafe,' he roared out and jumped up on tho 
 spade handle, in a great rage intirely, ' if ye say that 
 word agen to^me, I'll knock yes into nonsence, shiver 
 yez inter shuvins, and smash yez inter smitbci'grecns.' 
 
 ' Why, llicu I won't, sez I, ' if it ])Iazcs yer rever- 
 ence.' 
 
 The cratbur of an anthomy sat down agen on the 
 spade-handle, fi om which his taste of legs were hang- 
 in' down like two little threads ; and afther takin' two 
 or three whiffs more, he again fi.xed on me his two lit- 
 tle eyes, which was sparklin' like the spot of burnin' 
 tobacky in his ])i])0. 
 
 ' Yer wishin' for somethin', Dennis, sez he. 
 
 'It's I that is, yer riverence, an' if it's not displnzin, 
 to ye, I was wishin' for the loan of a f:\iry's purse for 
 a few hours,' I answered. 
 
 ' Bad luck to yer impudence,' he replied ; ' will noth- 
 in' less than a fairy's purse answer sech a spalpeen ? 
 And sposin' now, Dennis, I was to lird yez it, what 
 would ye give me in rellmrn for it V 
 
 ' Thin, to tell yer honor the truth,' sez I 'I'd give yez 
 me hand and word I,d rethurn it to yez.' 
 
 ' I don't care a Ihruwneen,' sez he' 'for yer dirty word; 
 but will ye give me yer hand ? ' 
 
 ' 1 will, sir,' I exclaimed, 'I will give ye me hand 
 that I'll rethurn the purse to yez.' 
 
 ' Why, then maybe,' said the cute little viUian, 'you'd 
 niver be able to rethurn it to me ; but will ye give me 
 yer hand on i t ? ' 
 
 I never see what the viper was dhrivin' at an' with- 
 out thinkin at all of what I was doing, I bawled out 
 ' Be this an' be that, if ye lind me tlio purse lor three 
 hours, I do give yez me han.' 
 
 The bit of a thafe's eyes glimmered an' glistened like 
 two stars in a frosty night. Ue jumped up, put his 
 pipe in his pocket, an' clapped his hands to his ribs, 
 which was no bigger nor the ribs of a small gudgeon, 
 gave a 'ho I ho ! ho !' of a lau^h, so loud an' so long 
 that I thought he'd split up like a straw that you'd 
 touch wid yer nail. 
 
 His kughin' continued so long that he at last fell 
 off the spade-handle. I was sure his neck wor cracked' 
 an' wor goin' to pick tij) his trifle of a carkis whin I 
 see him float to the ground as soft, as ai.sy, as quiet, 
 an' as gentle as a thistle-down ! 
 
 'You've given me your bond,' sez he, ,an' here's the 
 purse for yez ! it's little, I ihink^ ye'U have to brag 
 about it.' 
 
 ' Where's the purse, sir 7 ' sez I. 
 
 ' Ikre,' be answered, 'here, ye omadthaun ; pull the 
 red boot of me right leg ; that's the purse for yez.' 
 
 ' Be dad, ye riverence,' I replied, 'I ofthen beard of 
 mnkin' a purse of a sow's car, but niver before was 1 
 told of a purse manyfacturcd out of a leprechaun's 
 leg.' 
 
 'Noneof yer imperance, yeborn natheral,' he cried 
 ont in a fury, ' noneofjer imperance: but pull away at 
 me leg as if the dickens w^as siandin' in ye.' 
 
 I got hould of the little chap's leg and maybe I din't 
 make him schracho murdthcr. I pulled, an' ))ullcd, 
 until I lifted him clanc off tlie ground, and at last I 
 raised him so high that I shook him out of his boot iu- 
 tircly, as clanc as ye'd shake shot out of a bottle. 
 
 1 looked to sec was he hurt ; but the instant the very 
 
 end of his toes was out of the boot, ye might as well 
 expect to sec a grasshopper in snow as to see the lit- 
 tle gintleman in the field at all, ut all ! 
 
 There I'd the purse, however, an' a mighty small 
 won it was : so to sec was there any goold in it, I put 
 down me finger in it, an' I found in the bottom a nayte, 
 benutyful, sparklin', glistenin,, gooldcn guinea. 1 
 took that out, an' put it in me waistcoat pocket. 
 
 ' That's good,' sez I to myself I put down me fin- 
 gen agen, an' I forked up another guinea, an' that I 
 put in me waistcoat pocket. I ])ut down me hand agen, 
 an' there was a third : an' I niver stopped pultin, me 
 hand inter the purse and takin' out gooldcn guincai 
 till me wai^tcoat pocket was as full of goold as an egg 
 is of mate. 
 
 'Ob, Judy, Judy,' sez I 'in three hours wc will be 
 as rich as the Archbishop of Ciishcl intirely , an to be 
 .'.ure we T on't have lashings an' lavings at our wcddin.' 
 I'll jist go this minute into Tim Cassidy's and bny me 
 wcddin' shutc' 
 
 That very instant I let me work, and hurried into 
 the town of Thurles, to Tim Cassidy'sihop. Tim wa» 
 behind the counter, and I ordered him to fit me ont 
 wid ten shutes of clothes, an' send home to Judy the 
 makin' of twinty cloaks, besides gowns, petticoats, 
 stockings and shoes galore, 
 
 ' Ah, then, where's the money to come from V Bays 
 Tim, who was a hard, dhry crooked-nosed ould cod- 
 ger, that would skin a flint if that same was possible. 
 
 'Where ?' sez I ; 'sure here is, an' more whin I wants 
 it.' An' upon that I pulled out a fist full of gninoas, 
 an, spread tliera out on the counter before him, think- 
 in' he would be after wantin' me to take all that wor 
 in his shop ; but niver a bit of it. He looked as sharp 
 as a naadle at the goold, and thin axed me was I gone 
 clane crazy ? 
 
 'Niver a bit ; says 1, nor consated, nather, wid me 
 riches ; and I can tell yez that where I got that goold 
 thesc's plinty more of it to be found.' 
 
 I' don't donbt it, he drawled out an' grinnin' from car 
 to ear like a monkey ; but mind me, Dennis Mullaly, 
 ye 11 get none of me goods for such gooldcn guineas as 
 thim.' 
 
 ' Of masthcr Tim,' sez I, pickin' up me goold an' 
 puttiu" it into me waistcoat pocket, ' if ye don't like to 
 make yer fortune I can't help ye ; but if yez was very 
 civil now — an' I din't expect it — to tell the thruth, I 
 intended to give ye twinty guineas to hurry wid the 
 clothes' (or now that I'm so rich intirely, I'm goin' to 
 be married.' 
 
 •Ho ! ho ! ho ! ' roared out Tim, and I thought his 
 voice was the echo of the small fellow that gave me his 
 boot for a purse. 
 
 I hurried off to the next shop, and the man was go- 
 ing to kick me out when I showed him my goolden 
 guineas. A third tould me if ever I went into his 
 place to humbug him agen he would set the dogs af- 
 ther me. A fourth said it was mad 1 was. A fifth 
 swore I was a robber, watchin' to see what I could 
 steal, an' in short there was niver a soul in the intire 
 town at all, at all, who would have any dailiugs wid 
 me anyway. 
 
 I lost, I'm sure a good hour an' a half, thryin' to get 
 the Thrules shopkeepers to thrafiic wid me, but not a 
 man of them would have anything to say to me. 
 
 ' Faith,' thought I, 'if they won't take me goold, 
 from me I'm jish no richer nor I was before I got the 
 fairv's purse, so I'll go at wonst, get all the guineas 
 that ivcr I can out of the chap's little boot, tic them up 
 in a sack, an' carry it off to Clodmcl or some other da- 
 cent place, where the people is used to goold coin, an' 
 get all I want for it. 
 
 I ran back to the field, an' began pulling out guinea 
 after guinea until me arm got mighty tired ; an' at 
 last I'd a hape of goold besides me that was altogether 
 asnate and as smilin' lookin' as a small cock of fresh 
 hay. 
 
 While 1 was gnzin'at it wid as much pride and delight 
 as a gossoon stares at his new freizecoat, I felt a des- 
 perate pain in me arm, an' that same instant the purse 
 was snapped out of me hand, by the diminutive red 
 spalplcn, that had given it to me three hours before, i 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 '59 r 
 
 an' the imp said, ' Yo gave me j-or hand, and yoz got mo 
 purse. Dinnii MuUaly, it's avcn we arc now, an' take 
 me word for it, yc'rc biggest I'ool intirely from tliis to 
 yourself.' 
 
 Wid that ho gave me a kick in the thumb of me right 
 hand, the very pain of wliich knocked mo into a trance. 
 
 Whin I wakened, I found beside me, wlicro I had 
 left tlio guineas, a liape of jnckstones, tlie tops of dais- 
 ies, an' a parcel of dock-weeds ! 1 thricd wid me right 
 hand to raise the hape of stones, but I found the arm 
 lie as useles-s liy me side as if it din't belong to mo. 
 
 'I'o add to me misfortunes, Judy was married a 
 month afterwards, and I niver could handle a spade 
 since , at all, at all.' 
 
 ' Boys, jewel, I was fairy struck ! ' said my uncle. 
 
 ' 15oys, and girls,' concUnlcd Patrick, 'if it's the rule 
 golden guineas yc'd have, don'i be afthcr dhraming of 
 FAiRr Purses.' 
 
 A TOUR DSf THE SOUTH-WEST. 
 
 LETTER TO JOIIN SHRTIN, ESQ. — PARIS. 
 
 Napsleon, Arkansas, Jan. 18, 1858. 
 
 We awake in Sleniphis. The morning is dry but 
 gloomy ; and certain courteous citizens having called, 
 one is expected to sally forth and see the city. To be 
 perfectly candid with you, I care little for the streets 
 or buildings of towns. The insides of houses, and the 
 sort of people who dwell there ; the insides of the 
 couniing-rooms, and the sorts of business carried on 
 therein; these are the city proper — the rest being 
 merely the shell or ease of a city. Besides American 
 cities are in their shell marvellously alike — except some 
 portions of Boston, which much resemble a first-class 
 English provincial town, and the private streets of 
 Charleston which resemble nothing I have elsewhere 
 seen, but have all the individuality of South Caro- 
 lina. 
 
 Straight and level streets, crossing at right angles, 
 gi\e a certain uniformity to the plan of Memphis ; buf-, 
 as in other American towns, uniformity is utterly dis- 
 regarded in the elevation and fagade of the buildings. 
 Some of the business houses lately erected are on a 
 noble scale and highly ornamental ; many beautiful 
 private residences, both in the city and on the hill be- 
 hind it ; a broad levee sloping to the river; a hand- 
 some square about the middle of the town, tastefully 
 ph.nted with shade-trees ; some good churches and 
 large hotels — particularly one vast establishmnnt of the 
 latter sort, not yet opened for guests, but intended to 
 eclipse every thing else of the kind in the West, being 
 indeed a highly imposing white edifice, with a colon- 
 nade of stately pillars, — of brick (alas !) and plaster, 
 in the centre of the principal front ; conceive all this 
 and imagine houses enough to hold twenty thousand 
 souls — counting a soul to every body — and you may 
 say that you have an idea of th outside of Memphis. 
 
 You are aware that it is a great cotton port, — the 
 number of bales shipped per annum, are they not writ- 
 ten in the books of De Bow 1 Far enough South for 
 cotton ; far enough North for grain and provisions, 
 with a railroad stretching eastward to the Atlantic, — 
 the Mississippi penetrating northward to the fur coun- 
 tries, flowing southward through the sugar canes and 
 orange groves, — and Arkansas Ijing opposite with 
 boundless cane brake fast getting cleared and settled, 
 — Memphis flatters herself that she is happily placed 
 for trade. 
 
 The rule and habit of American towns being ' prog 
 resf,' particularly in the West, they are absurdly jeal- 
 ous of one another. Chicago, for example affects to 
 rival St. Louis ; and St. Louis disdainfully snubs 
 Chicago. So Memphis is not yet so large as Nash- 
 ville ; but makes haste to be as large or larger; where- 
 as Nashville, being the metroplitan city of our State, 
 patronizingly encourages her young neighbor Memphis. 
 I participate a little in this sort of jealousy, on behalf 
 
 eagerly pursue cotton 1 What do they sco so facinat- 
 ing in cane-brakes 1 AVhy do they rush along these 
 levees, and disquiet their souls for one quarter of a 
 penny per pound? Oh! if they would but leave these 
 bustling streets and wharves, and suffer mo to lead 
 them by the still waters of Holston and the green pas- 
 cures of Tucalcechce Cove! In Tucaleechee Cove no 
 man is in hasto to learn tlic Indian news ; nor would 
 give a 'shuck' to hear that Lucknowis relieved, or re- 
 relieved. 
 
 On one point, I make an early remark in Memphis. 
 It is, that the country must be ion the whole very 
 healthy.. Absolutely, since I entered the alluvialMis- 
 sissippi bottom, in the towns where we stopped, and on 
 the ears as we travelled, the people are ruddier and 
 more muscular than our mountaineers in East Tennes- 
 see Another circumstance I shall state once for all 
 — Memphis, like every other city and town in the Uni- 
 ted States, is pre-eminently distinguished for the beau- 
 ty of its women. 
 
 Have yon ever considered the use and capacity of 
 Nicolaicf, the Emperor Alexander's naval doek:yard 
 on the Bong river '! Its value was apparent during 
 the late operations in the Black Sea. There, ship 
 building and cannon-founding went peaceably on while 
 the guns of the English and French fleets grinned with 
 impotent malice into the river mouth. Such an estab- 
 lishment the American government had in Memphis, 
 but abandoned it and presented the city with the buil- 
 dings, including a wonderful ropewalk, fourteen hun- 
 dred feet in length. Why ? Has the Millenium come 
 then? Is war to devastate the earth — to purify 
 the air, no more 1 ( )r are the navy-yards of Norfolk, 
 and Pensacola and Brooklyn absolutely impregnable 1 
 The last, I hope is nearly so, or will soon be : the bat- 
 teries at the Narrows, and on the East River, would 
 undoubtedly be hard to pass; yet on many parts of 
 the shores of Long Island our Anglo Saxon kinsmen 
 might land as they lauded on the beach at Eupato- 
 ria. 
 
 No, the Millenium is not here ; nor have the saints 
 yet won Armageddon. The end of all peace is war; 
 and I cannot but think it would be prudent to main- 
 tain an internal and inaccessible naval depot. But of 
 this the Hon. Members of Congress are the best judg- 
 es, so we shall leave it to them. 
 
 The counting house of a cotton-broken opens before 
 us on the quay. The merchant himself, one of the 
 most respected citzens of the place, is an Irishman of 
 the North of Ireland, whose name I shall confide to 
 you on another occasion. The floor of the offiee is 
 spread with samples of the delicate white down ; bales 
 are being rolled before the door. Apparently ourfriend 
 has been doing business and is going to make a ship- 
 ment. The cotton, he tells us, long held back, begins 
 to como in, attracted by a too-small rise in the market 
 — charmed from the planters by the two ' 'reliefs' of 
 Lucknow. But the third time will be the charm in- 
 deed. When Lucknow shall be a third time relieved, 
 Manchester will advance one step more, one penny 
 more ; and Mississippi shall swell with bales. Now I 
 am sorry the cotton begins to come in. One would 
 wish to see the issue tried, whether the planters could 
 wait longer for the money or mill-owners for the raw 
 material — which would soonest go to the wall. It 
 would be a valuable lesson for future use ; in case of 
 difficulty with our Anglo-Saxon brcihen. It would be 
 equivalent to a strategical rcconnoissance ; for such a 
 war will be carried on mainly m warehouses, mills and 
 banks. 
 
 But I gladly wash my hanils of cotton and money, 
 and accompany the worthy merchant to his home, an 
 elegant house in a private street, where wo are warmly 
 welcomed (you and I) by bis wife, a Virginian lady.- — 
 Now I love Virginia (next to Alabama) and always de- 
 light to talk about the Old Dominion — lan.i where of 
 old, grew tobacco and Presidents and where the former 
 still grows ; land where Edgar Poe's ear and heart 
 conceived a dreary melody from the murmuring of 
 Rivanna and the winds that swept over the Blue Moun 
 
 of Knoxville, the capital of East Tennessee as Mem- I tains ; land, too, that bred the fine and delicate wit of 
 phis is of the West. Why will the human race so Porte Crayon. Know you Porte Crayon? If not I 
 
 will get his Virginia Illustrated, hero in Memphis, and 
 as we go down the Mississippi floating, I will inlrodueo 
 you to one who wields ' the pen of rigmarole,' in so 
 graceful a fashion as almost to redeem our semi-bar- 
 barous tongue. What is strange about this Porto 
 Crayon, liowover, is, that he is good and bright and 
 genial, only in Virginia. Take him across the State- 
 line in any direction; and behold! viriuehas gone out 
 of him. Wherefore I would urge itui)On the excellent 
 Democratic Legislature of that State to enact a law 
 that Porte Crayon shall stay at home, — or at least lo 
 put a heavy tax upon his export ; as Governor Wise 
 suggests in the case of the oysters of Chesapeake Bay. 
 
 We are in Tennessee, however, not in Virginia — 
 Memphis is beyond all doubts to be one of the eapiial 
 cities of the great West. It has been a rough place in 
 its early days ; a great seat of .Judge Lynch's Courts; 
 a haunt of wild river-men with mighty beards, bowie- 
 knives and cowhide boots. But it has changed all that. 
 It grows civilized, nay refined. Judge Lynch has ab- 
 dicated when his services were no longer required, — 
 as ho always does — in favor of the State and Federal 
 Courts ; and has retired from the Bench, full of years 
 and honors. The wdd river-men have given place to 
 gentleman-like steamboat captains. The gamblers 
 have their sumptuous and highly architectural Hells ; 
 and, save in an occasional 'diffiouliy,' men are rarely 
 killed. You perceive that the Human Species is mak- 
 ing progress ; and after your first walk in the streets, 
 observing that the people do not look sanguinary or 
 ferocious, you retire to your room and hide your re- 
 volver in your portmanteau, not without a touch of 
 shame. The city is full of churches; two or three ex- 
 tensive and handsome lx)oksellers' stores arc ready to 
 furnish intellectual psbulum. Doctor Boynton lectures 
 on Geology, and teaches us to fall in love (like Miss 
 Murray) with the Old Red Sandstone; and an Irish 
 Exile entertains a numerous and intelligent audience 
 with a malicious narrative (true, however,) of English 
 rule in India. He finds the Cotton market sorely in 
 his way ; for as he very justly remarks, 'a community 
 of planters is bound by tender ties to a people of spin- 
 ners, and the heart of the cotton bale warms to the 
 Power loom.' 
 
 The city has a well conducted and highly respectable 
 Press ; and on the whole, there is a certain air and tone 
 of liberality and generosity here — which I am inclined 
 to attribbute to the Mississippi river. It is not for noth- 
 ing tliat such a river rolls exulting and abounding by 
 one's door ; and although one may not desire to drink 
 much water (as in truth they do not) still 
 
 'Magno de flumine malim, 
 Quam ex hoc fontieulo tantumdcn sumcre.' 
 
 There is something grand in it. The air of the River 
 of Rivers is favorable lo full pulsation, rapid thought, 
 devouring passion — a life both fast and high. They 
 hate like demons ; and neither, I warrant you, do they 
 love with moderation. Love ! Why I entertain no 
 shadow of a doubt that lovers on the b.inks of this 
 River do, in the appropriate language of Jean Paul, 
 ' eat one another's lips and hearts and love away by 
 kisses ; as in Rome the statues of Christ fby Argelo) 
 have lost their feet by the same process of kissing, and 
 have got leaden ones insteal.' 
 
 The source of all this lies in Itasca Lake ; northern 
 section of Minnesota. 
 
 The present writing is done on board the Herald 
 steamboat. We have just left Napoleon behind us, 
 where the the huge Arkansus rolls in between gloomy 
 forests of cotton-wood on the right hand and on the left. 
 Memphis therefore lies two days behind me. I think 
 you have my impressions of that city by this lime, and 
 are jji-obably tired of it. The most agreeable part of 
 my experiences, and to you the most interesting, is not 
 to be found in this letter — namely the gentle courtesies 
 of private families. 
 
 Dearly as I love my pensive Public, I cannot indulge 
 hiseuriosty here; but if I were at liberty to introduce 
 vou, in this epistolary manner, to some of those, houses 
 bothAmerican and Iri-h, where I spent agreeable hours, 
 you would perhaps leave Paris and take up your abode 
 at Mcmiihis, Tenn. 
 
60 
 
 IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 Jovi&l and ho^tpitablo Memphis I I must no\r wind 
 up my Memphis chapter rapidly, yet am sorry to part. 
 One evening wo Htioml a scnii-pulilic supper parly, at 
 which cho sentimoms and the oysters are good; tho wit 
 aod the Catawba .^pirklinj;:. Next evening bulioUl me 
 at tho theatre ; with the party of my friend Doctor 
 ,a younjf physician lately retunied from complet- 
 ing his studies in Paris. Many ardent glunees uro 
 turned steulihily npon our hox ; for wliy — two lovely 
 girls aro with us ; ono being a beauty, of tho striking 
 ond imposing style. A scion she of a tall Connaught 
 clan who once held wide sway over Moyluirg and Cool- 
 avin ; who sent ilieir tribute to Calnl More of the Wino 
 red Hand, and were among the hist to yield to tho 
 strong Clan Sassenagh after a Spanish grave had closed 
 over O'Donncll Roe. Yes, look at her, ye bearded 
 Tennesseans, and Hery-eyed Mi>sissippians ! Such 
 women are bred under the shadowcsof Corsliabh moun- 
 tains. 
 
 The ' Herald * was to start for New Orleans at three 
 or four o'clock in the morning. Obviously it was not 
 worth while to go to bed. Human nature revolted at 
 the idea. We repair, you and l,in company with about 
 a dozen Meraphian gentlemen, to a restaurant kept by 
 an Italian woman very cunning in oysters. Everybody 
 is gone to rest ; bnt one of our friends is a special pa- 
 tron of tlie establisiiment, and cannot be denied. Soon 
 the waiters are all alive, the rooms lighted, and the la- 
 dy herself, her great black eyes beaming with pleasure, 
 comes in to be introduced to the great Irish Exile — 
 she hwd never, I am sure, heard of the celebrated crea- 
 ture before — but it was all the same ; he was the friend 
 of her friends. 
 
 Four o'clock, A. M, On board. Tennessee, Good 
 Kight ! 1 shall come round upon you again by the 
 Eouth-eastem comer. J, M. 
 
 COnRESPO N DBNCE, 
 
 OUR DUBLIN' COURESro>'DE>'CE. 
 
 The Social and Political Condition or Ireland — 
 *' Tenant Right," — "Independent Opposition,"' — 
 
 1hI9U middle CLAS3 — IllISU " IX)YALTV,*' — TlIE M'Alt 
 
 IN India,— 'Sepoy Outrages,"— English Manufac- 
 TCKE OK Lies, — The Nation and the Tablet, — A 
 "Tkikst Hunt"' in Ireland, — The Dublin Jour- 
 nal, &c. &c. 
 
 Dublin, Feb. 6th, 1858. 
 
 Mr Dear : 
 
 After cont:iderabIc hesitation, I have at last made up my 
 mind to Hccept your otTer, and will, in futui-e, furnish you 
 with such matters of importance as may occur here. 
 
 Ireland is strangely altered since you last saw her — and 
 truth re<iuires me to say, that in a social point of view, she 
 lias altered for the better: but politically, she has fallen in- 
 deed! The Crimean war opened an extensive market for 
 every kind of agricultural produce, and high prices ruled. 
 3(any of our young men joined the army, others the mili- 
 tia, and in the face of a large demand, labor became scarce; 
 consequently, the price of agricultural labor was consider- 
 ably enhanced, and in many districtfn in hancst time four 
 shillings and live shillings per day were paid Jor the labor 
 of a man who formerly considered ten pence a day, good 
 wages. The condition of our peasantry has, therefore, ve- 
 ry much improved. This is apparent in their good dress and 
 general well-to-do appearance. Thus the old adage about 
 an " ill-wind" has been vcriticd, and the strife and blood- 
 shed of England and Riist<ia, have been the means of bring- 
 ing much pood to our unfortunate countr>'. 
 
 The condition of politics or political parties in Ireland, 
 was never lower, ^'ot even in the days when O'Conncll 
 jound the Catholics of Ireland rent asunder by intestine 
 discord, and powerless as a roiw of sand. We have no na- 
 tional party in existence. True, we have what is called 
 *' Independent opposition." but whatever noisy speeches 
 and loud declarations of patriotism may be made by it« 
 members, as a party it is powerless for good, and its agita- 
 tion only Kcrvej} to distract the thoughts of the nation, and 
 divert, for a time, the people from aspirations more beUtling 
 an enslaved race. 
 
 The " tenant right" agitation although ba«cd on true prin- 
 ciples, and being theexponent of a great and enormous evil, 
 makes no progress. The masses of the people keep aloof 
 from these partial and paltrj- measures of temporarj- relief. 
 To move the nation requires a spell more potent than " ten- 
 ant right"' more talismanic than independent opposition, 
 and a mightier magician than Ireland lias for the last fcveu 
 years seen. The people arc right, and will not barter their 
 nheritauce of •' nationality' for a me.-s of pottage. 
 There id, perhaps, no notion which presents in her middle 
 
 cins* A more sickening spectacle to behold, than Ireland nt 
 the pifstnt moment. '■ Addresses" to the Lord Lieutenant, 
 "congralulotions'' to royalty upon the nmrria^ie of ita 
 daughter, meetings In behalf of ''the army in India" or its 
 distres.«ed widows and children, and Hiich like, arc now tho 
 order of the day among the ihonems. Tho great teachings 
 of 'IIJ at Tara and Mullaghmast sleep in the grave with 
 their lamented author ; the burning lessons of love and lib- 
 erty for which Meagher, and Mitchell, and OBricn sulfered, 
 are now but little heartl. This mhldle class which ought to 
 lead the people in patriotism, has become more Kngtlsh 
 than the English themtelvew. Yet, thank (iod, the heart of 
 the nation beats true to fatherland ; and when the man, and 
 the time arrives you will liud the people as faithful and as 
 lirm as ever. 
 
 Meantime the war in India goes bravely on. The people 
 here exult in every disaster which befalls the British army, 
 and triumph in every victory of the Sepoys. Therefore, it 
 is, that I wish to impress on the public mind in the United 
 States the necessity of care in forming an estimate of pub- 
 lic opinion here, from the middle class shoti fens, who are 
 but the rind of society, and possess no power or influence 
 with the great masses of my fellow countrymen. The Dnn- 
 dalk Democrat thus truthfully expresses the loyalty of Ire- 
 land to England : — 
 
 '' There is not a vessel of hcr's which is wrecked, there is 
 not a general of hcr's who is slain, there is not a battalion 
 in her service which is routed and overthrown, that the 
 people of Ireland do not gloat over with the greatest satis- 
 faction and delight. From the deepest recesses of their 
 heart they wi.sh her defeat and misfortune iu whatever en- 
 terprise she is engaged." 
 
 That is God's truth. "VVe hate her as of yore, and will 
 continue to do so until we can afford to forgive her. 
 
 Of course you have been horrified in the United States 
 with tales of '• Sepoy outrages;"' " Sepoy barbarities;" "Se- 
 poy mutilations," &c. You will have seen that the -Yrtfion, 
 Dundalk Df worrar, and other exponents of Irish national 
 fentinients, have persistently doubted these statements. — 
 Thes?e journals, knowing that England always played this 
 game with her enemy, (as in the cases of the struggle for 
 American Independence, the "rebellion"' of '08, and the 
 memorable case of Napoleon, who was held up by the Brit- 
 ish press as the most cruel and heartless of monsters) doubt- 
 ed all the stories of outrage, and mutilation, and the result 
 has shown they were right It now turns out that a single 
 case of violation or mutilation on the part of the gallant 
 Sepoys is unknown — that the whole series of bloody tales 
 were manufactured to order for the English market, and 
 that the gallantry and humanity of Xenah Sahib and his 
 brave Sepoys stands out in broad, bright, and beautiful 
 characters when contrasted with the beastly butcheries 
 which have every where marked the track of the brutal ar- 
 my of bible reading England. May Ciod nerve the arms ot 
 the gallant Sepoys, and enable them to smite their i)ale fac- 
 ed oppressors! 
 
 There is a very pretty quarrel going on between the Na- 
 tion and Tablet, The supporters of government stigmatized 
 the opponents of British atrocities in India, as the ''Sepoy 
 press." The Tablet seems to have taken the Indian war un- 
 der its special protection, being conducted by Englishmen, 
 as in duty bound, it supports the government of its country 
 in all its infamy. The Nation seems of late to have gained 
 some of its old fire, and handles the British Tablet without 
 mercy. 
 
 It is a long time since we had a " priest hunt" in Ireland; 
 but we have one now, or rather two, with the British blood 
 hounds in full cry. In the State prosecutions of '43, two 
 priests were dragged to the bar of British vengeance, that 
 the government might renew its old appetite for the blood 
 of our holy pastors. The Kev. Messrs. Conway and Uyan, 
 are now to bo offered np as victims to satisfy the rapacious 
 lust of landlord dc-^pot ism in Ireland. Trial by jury requires 
 that every man charged with an indictable offence. should be 
 tried by a jury of his peers, impartially selected from the 
 vicinage or neighborhood where he resides. Bnt what care 
 the British government about trial by jury ? It is something 
 very fine in theory, something to hold forth about when we 
 boast of the liberty and freedom of the Briton! But if an 
 Irish rebel, or worse still, an Irish priest, is to be sacrificed, 
 the venue can at once be changed fVom Mayo to Dublin, 
 where a pliant jury of castle tradesman will f^peedily do the 
 work of their masters. Thus, at the present time, two poor 
 priests are being persecuted by '-this thing called govern- 
 ment, in Ireland" for having the temerity to call upon their 
 poor iK'ople to vote for land and life, in preference to vot- 
 ing for an exterminator. 
 
 I am glad of the resolution you have come to of repub- 
 lishing the Dublin Penny Journal. It was one of the most 
 national publications we had, and did good service in di- 
 recting attention to our Irish antiquities, and preserved 
 many of them from the destruction of modern vandals. 
 
 The />i/Uin JotimoJ is just issued from the press contain- 
 ing numerous illustrations, but as a work of art it does not 
 yet come up to our expectations. It is sold at one i>enny. 
 
 And now my dear Misrellany I nmst bid you adieu until 
 next week, by which time I hope to have the first number 
 of your illustrated pai>er in my hands, when I will freely 
 give you my opinion of it. Kely upon receiving a weekly 
 communication from mc. Truly youit, AVONMUKJi. 
 
 ORIGINAL POETRY. 
 
 "Written lor the Mlocellany. 
 THE CIt U C I F I X I N . 
 
 BT r. K. OUINEY. 
 
 Shadows hung o'er Calv'ry's height. 
 And pendent meteors fiashed; 
 
 "While howling' winds in mad affright 
 Their furious currents lashed. 
 
 Tombs which long were scaled in gloom, 
 Threw back their rusted gates, 
 
 And death, for once, revoked his doom 
 Thro'out Judea's states. 
 
 Kof more dreadful was that shock 
 
 ■\Vhich laid Caraccas low. 
 Than that which startled ev'ry rock 
 
 Prom Tabor to Gelbo! 
 
 AD earth, all heaven, the sea and air 
 Bang loud in Terror's tongue; 
 
 O! who could paint the fearful glara 
 Thro' ether's concave flung! 
 
 Has anger shook th' eternal throne 
 
 That thus the wrath of God 
 Should be poured out in ev'r>' zone 
 
 On man too long unawed? 
 
 Ah, no! From out that troubPd sky 
 
 There flew a bannered dove; 
 Her mission, not that man should die, 
 
 But live, and living, love! 
 
 And in the light which "round her shone 
 
 The eye of Faith de.'-cried 
 Inscribed upon her gonfalon 
 
 ' Jesus Crucified.' 
 
 Boston. Feb. 2fi. laSR. 
 MASSACHUSETTS TKUE TO IIEK OLD INSTINCTS— 
 
 KE-ENACTMENT OF TENAL LAWS. 
 To the Editor of the Irish Miscellany :— 
 
 The base attempt of the political faction now legislating 
 for Massachusetts, the sop they have thrown to the ■ Know 
 Nothings' by adding another disability to the adopted citi- 
 zen, have made us look into her history, which we find the 
 most intolerant in the union, while she is the most self- 
 righteous of Pharisees. 
 
 Roger Williams is driven out, the Quakers arc put to 
 death, the Irish are forbidden to make settlements, wbilo 
 they proclaim themselves 'the saints of God.' This is Mas- 
 sachusetts' early toleration and modesty. Having fled from 
 religious tyranny themselves, it might have been expected 
 they would leel for the tender consciences of others; but 
 no, the rule was an iron, and an universal one, and now, as 
 then, hers is an egotistical, pharisaical intolerance and tyr- 
 anny. 
 
 Upon the (non-essential of) form in which baptism was 
 to be administered,— they believing in sprinkling, he be- 
 lieving in immersion, Koger Williams was driven out of 
 the colony, and being friendly received by the more kind 
 Indians, he gave thanks to God, and founded the capital 
 of a new colony, to which he gave the name of Providence, 
 in memory of the happy deliverance from bis former fricuds 
 and the kind reception from savages. 
 
 The penal laws of England, enacted against the Irish Ro- 
 man Catholics, were not more monstrous, criminal or ri- 
 diculous than the blue laws of New England. The igno- 
 rance, stupidity and superstitious infatuation which led the 
 so-called Puritans to persecute people to death for the crime 
 of dreaming or ghost-seeing, or more frequently, to satisfy 
 the private spleen of some enemy, is strangely iu contrast 
 with the spiritual dreamers of the present day. Spiritual 
 witchcraft is now openly preached (Vom an hundred ros- 
 trums and pulpits in the State— while the founder of any 
 absurdity finds followers to believe and support his wildest 
 fancies. 
 
 The history of the persecutions against Quakers, surpassed 
 those of the Inquisition, the Covenanter?, or the vallies of 
 Piedmont, and is, perhaps, without a parallel iu religious 
 bittcruess and hate, yet centuries have not annihilated that 
 denomination; they meet in Boston to-day — the same un- 
 assuming, harmless professors as ever. 
 
 We cannot as others, believe that religion was the cause 
 of dislike to the early Irish settlers, as they were mostly 
 Protestants; the national feeling existing between England 
 and Ireland must have been transmitted here. AVe find the 
 the General Court, however, in 1720, resolving—' Whereas, 
 it appears that certain families recently arrived from Ire- 
 land, and others from this province, have presumed to 
 make a settlement,' &c., &c.— 'that the said i)eople be 
 warned to move off within the space of seven months, and 
 if they fall to do so, that they be prosecuted by the attorney 
 general, by writs of trespass and ejectment.' The Irish set- 
 tlers would not be moved ofl", and it docs not appear that 
 the attorney geueral ever tried his writs upon them. They 
 are now in the city of Boston (capital of New England) as 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY, 
 
 61 
 
 eixty-fcvcn to one hundred of the populntion. So much 
 for persecution. 
 
 MiiAsachusetts seems tolerably fond of extremes. 'In 17fi2 
 A white woman was publicly sold for four years ;' now 
 they denounce the southern states where negro sla\ery ex- 
 ists, and trample under foot the great charter of a nation's 
 rights, (the Constitution,) because the national government 
 will not abolish that institution, one, over which they have 
 no control. The negro is exalted us a litting object for 
 adoration ; at the same time laws are enacted against tl 
 white man, to whom they owe so much, for wc hesitate not 
 to say Massachusetts is indebted to the Irishman's labor, 
 and who doubts to his intelligence, as co-workers in 
 present state of prosperity. Ilasthelabor of the adojited cit- 
 zen not been in a fair ratio in the boot, shoe and leather 
 business, in the clothing business, and have they uot trans- 
 ferred the granile quarries into the commercial palaces 
 arouud us ? Have they not, by their intellect, covered as 
 many pages of the history of our state as others ? Who 
 individually has done more than the Sullivans for ilassa- 
 chusetts? 
 
 Not speaking of those of New Hampshire and Maine, 
 ' Massachusetts, in 1778, sent John Sullivan to Congress; in 
 1790, he was made attorney general of the State, about which 
 time he projected the Middlesex Canal, and aided in form- 
 ing the state historical society; in 1704, the legislature or- 
 dered his -History of the District ot Maine' to be published. 
 In ISO", he was elected governor and re-elected in 1S08. He 
 died in the latter year, after having assisted in the settle- 
 ment of ilaine and written its history; alter governing 
 Massachusetts, and defining its boundaries; after having 
 studied under the British officials, and beat them with their 
 own weapons. ' The son of this eminent statesman was the 
 Hon William Sullivan, for many years a State senator and 
 United States representative for Boston.' And we wish it 
 remembered that a hatred of the foreigner did uot consti- 
 tute the sole qualifications to make governors, nor Con- 
 gressmen in this day— talent was a requisite to obtain pub- 
 lic place. 
 
 'A naturalization law which conferred upon foreigners 
 the right of suffrage in two years, was signed by Washing- 
 ton, in the year 1790.' Jefferson's being raised to the Pres- 
 idency, was through the opposition to the alien and sedi- 
 tion laws, which were quickly repealed; but what were 
 those men in comparison with the magnates at our State 
 House, who compare Washington or Jefferson with the 
 leather Solomons of our legislature. 
 
 The present vile attempt of the Black Republican legis- 
 lature, to insult and throw difficulties in the way of the 
 Irish citizen and the franchize, is not to be wondered at by 
 those who know the material of which our legislatures have 
 been composed for years, of partizans of the most bitter 
 class, elected without a question of competency or ability. 
 The qualifications are and have been — Is he a partizan ? 
 They now endeavor to consolidate the American party 
 with their own, by enactments against the adopted citizen. 
 Congress has made five years the time of probation, which 
 has given universal satisfaction to the other States; but 
 what is Congress or the other States to the wisdom of Mas- 
 sachusetts, who enacts laws in opposition to the Federal 
 government and acts the monitor to the union? The law- 
 makers of our State may have forgot, perhaps never knew 
 that this people, or a portion of them, by demanding their 
 wealth on depo.sit in our banks, could bring that Sate to 
 bankruptcy in a day ; such an act might open their eyes. 
 
 As to the language used in relation to the adopted citi- 
 zen, 'tis but a reflection of the stupidity and ignorance of 
 its authors, we will not reply. Irish intellect rules vaster 
 empires, guides more intelligent senates; as to the criminal- 
 ity of the people, we will not draw a comparison, we refer the 
 authors (o the glass houses in which they live. 
 
 The founders of the Colony of Massachusetts Bay, early 
 in its settlement, passed the following resolves:— 1st, ' Ke- 
 Bolved that the earth is the Lord's and that he has given it 
 to his saints.' 2d. Kesolved, 'that we are his saints.' We 
 know of no characteristic so purely handed down, for the 
 men of our legislature talk the same insanity, and are 
 like unto the early colonists in modesty. 
 
 Yours truly, PAUDEEN. 
 
 OUR NEW YORK CORRESPONDENCE. 
 New York, Makcii 3iI, 1858. 
 Washington's birthday oiiglit to be at least the sec- 
 ond public holiday of the republic. After the Fourth 
 of July, 1776 — a day w-hich if it did not commemorate 
 the work to which George Wasliinglon devoted his 
 life, witnessed the ratilication of nn act wliich placed 
 him anil his compatriots beyond the possibility of ret- 
 rogression from the position the colonies then assumed, 
 but at the same time establislifd the country's inde- 
 pendence — the 22d of February, 1731, wliich gave 
 birth to the hero, the sage, and the saviour of his 
 country shonld he honored above all other days by 
 the American people. la this city we had an equivo- 
 Cil kind of celebration of Washington's binhday. — 
 Three regiments of ihe militin, the 7th, 8th, and 9th, 
 
 turned out, not in one grand military parndo, but each 
 regiment for itself, and each, I fear, more anxious to 
 obtain an individual reputation than to do honor to 
 the day they intended to celebrate. With the excep- 
 tion of these military exhibitions, we had no public 
 display here. It is true that ' the Order of United 
 Americans' had a demonstration in the Academy of 
 Music. This association, of course you are aware, 
 was the nursery which originally cherished the de- 
 testable principles of ' Native Americanism,' not ex- 
 actly in its political shape, for that was reserved for a 
 political party — the ' Know Nothings,' but in its spirit 
 of hostility to the exercise of the skill and labor of 
 every mechanic not born on the soil of America. — 
 ' Ned Buntline,' the leader of the fatal Aslor Place 
 riots, and the author of a multitude ot ' yellow cover' 
 stories, a man of infamous character, was one of the 
 shining lights of this patriotic order. Although doubt- 
 less many g.^od and many enthusiastic men are mem- 
 bers of it, the spirit which governs the order is 
 narrow, bigoted and hostile to the genius of the Repub- 
 lic. Therefore, it is not surprising to find Ei-astus 
 Brooks of the New York Express, the orator of the 
 occasion at the Academy of Music ; but it is certainly 
 amusing to hear him — one of the most stupidly fero- 
 cious of the Know Nothing gang — declaiming about 
 freedom of opinion, tolerance in religious matters, and 
 more of like character. If Washingion could have 
 anticipated that his memory would be recalled under 
 such circumstances, or his name ever used in connec- 
 tion with the (to him) hateful sentiments of this 
 wretched anti-American faction — Washington, the au- 
 thor of the ' farewell address' — of the letter of thanks 
 to the Catholics for their assistance in his day of trial, 
 Washington, the friend of ' the foreigners' — Lafoyette 
 and Steuben, the admirer of Montgomerj- — how deep- 
 ly would he have mourned over what the future of his 
 beloved country was to bring forth ! But, thank God, 
 his spirit has not been afflicted with the sight of the 
 predominance of that faction, but has beheld its repu- 
 diation by a large majority of the people, worthy to 
 inherit the fruits of the sacrifices he made, and the 
 doctrines he transmitted to them. 
 
 Following hard upon the anniversary of ' the father 
 of his country,' — an anniversary which it is needless 
 to say is as generously appreciated by the adopted 
 as by the native born citizen, comes that festival which 
 very properly is not forgotten by Irishmen, where- 
 soever their lot is cast — whether under a hideous 
 despotism or a benificent republic — St. Patrick's Day, 
 the national holiday of Ireland. Active preparations 
 ai-e in progress hero for its due celebration, though I 
 regret to say that there does not exist among ilie dif- 
 ferent societies that harmony that is so desirable on 
 such an occasion. At present there are two sepai-ate 
 bodies, each organizing for the celebration. One 
 holds its meetings in Prince Street, under the chair- 
 manship of Mr. Gaynor ; tlie other in Tammany Hall, 
 presided over by Mr. Kcelan, both excellent men, but 
 unhappily unable to agree as to tlieir respective rights 
 to hold the office of pi-esident of the consolidated Irish 
 Societies of New York. The difference though ncai'- 
 ly of an individual character and comparatively tri- 
 fling, is to be regretted, inasmuch as it alfords an op- 
 portunity fur the enemies of the Irish race to repeat 
 the oft told tale that Irishmen can never agree among 
 themselves. The fact is that our people arc too un- 
 bending, too proud, too little disposed to accord to 
 others the merit of being right, which each one claims 
 exclusively for himself. Bui; despite the misunder- 
 standings now existing among a few individuals here, 
 I have no doubt that St. rairick's Day will be cele- 
 brat<'il in a proper fashion; that the good sense of the 
 many will control the sellishness of the few, and that 
 we shall witness a turn out highly creditable to the 
 Irish population of New York. 
 
 After all what have we to cling to — we scattered 
 children of a modern Israel — but this solitary festival 1 
 All other days commemorative of some glory for Ire- 
 land are unfortunately but sectional in tlieir character; 
 hailed with triumph by one portion of our countrymen 
 as days to be remembered with national piide, and cxc- I 
 
 crated by another portion as memories of disaster to 
 that foreign power to which they arc, with almost un- 
 paralleled madness legally devoted. St. Patrick's day, 
 however, seems tradiiionally destined to provide a 
 mental ground upon which men of all political opin- 
 ions, creeds, and classes may meet, forgetting the mis- 
 erable feuds which divided them and remembering only 
 that they ai-e .sons of the same land, heirs to a common 
 heritage of historic renown. To me, however, it seems 
 inconsistant if not unnatural for those to celebrate our 
 national festival who do not aspire to see Ireland an 
 independent nation, enjoying a name which shall 
 command honor wherever upon the civilized earth 
 God's sunlight falls, who are willing to let her remain 
 a miserable dependent, knocking at the door of her mas- 
 ter for charity ; a country with a flag, without a gov- 
 ernment, without any claim to recognition as one of 
 the family of nations. AVith such it appears to me St. 
 Patrick's day can be only honored as we honor the 
 memory of one dead. For surely the national festival 
 of a country which has long ago ceased to be a nation, 
 and which the celebrants are content with in her pres- 
 ent enslaved condition is an anomaly. But with those 
 who believe in the regeneration of Irish nationality; who 
 hope and pray for it, can readily understand why St. 
 Patrick's day, can, and should be celebrated on every 
 soil with veneration and enthusiasm. I know that in 
 these views I differ from many, and in expressing 
 them may cause regret to some excellent Irishmen ; 
 but they are my opinions, I think honestly arrived at, 
 and I am sure shared in by all Irish nationalists, so 
 with this rather lengthy allusion to Patrick's day, I 
 will leave the subject with the hope that the festival 
 may be well kept in every city of the union, and that 
 all those who participate in its celebration may be in- 
 spired with a desire to see their native land exalted to 
 such a position among the nations that her exiled chil- 
 dren can boast, in whatever land they may wander, 
 tliat they have a flag of their own whose shelter they 
 can seek in the time of need, a country whose name is 
 respected wherever on the face of the globe the light of 
 civilization has spread. 
 
 If I have devoted so much of my correspondence 
 this week to the subjects which have engrossed the 
 preceding pages, you must not suppose that it is be- 
 cause New York is devoid of gossip. There is plenty 
 of that kind of ' interesting matter' at hand. But it 
 is not of a nature either so new or so piquant as to in- 
 terest your readers. 
 
 The anniversai-y of the French Revolution of the 
 24 th of February, 1S48, was eelebated here by the dis- 
 ciples of the Republiqite Democratique Sociale et Unlver- 
 selle, by a banquet at a restaut-ant in Leonard St. This 
 society is composed of the most violent of the Red 
 Republican party. Mmy of their sentiments are odious 
 to all men of well balanced minds. They arc Social- 
 ists professing the most extreme principles of socialism. 
 As I was present at their celebration, I can tell you 
 what their sentiments are. In the first place they fra- 
 ternised with the attempted assassination of the French 
 Emperor. And again they proclaimed in the most 
 violent language in favor of the principles that proper- 
 ty is robbery, and all the other monstrous propositions 
 of Socialisms. Whatever may be tlie opinions of 
 many of the most intelligent of the French e.xiles here 
 regarding the late attempt on the life of Louis Napo- 
 leon, whom they regard as an assassin himself, and 
 worthy to be punished by the assassin's steel, they do 
 not sympathise with the oratoi-s of the celebration of 
 the 4lh of February in this city. But there is no 
 doubt from the feeling exhibited at that meeting, that 
 the participants believed that a revolution in France 
 was not fir distant. And from all tliese indications 
 we see in the late news from France and England, it is 
 uot too much to say that their conjectures may bo 
 right. If Louis Napoleon should come to the w-ise 
 conclusion that no'hingluta war with England can 
 save him from a mutiny in his army, and a revolution 
 in Paris, and shall act on that conclusion, nothing 
 has occurred within the lastquarter of a century which 
 will afford more satisfaction to yom- correspondent, 
 MUNSTER. 
 
G2 
 
 IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 quiry to other iuetuuccsofliOuEtico oud opprcii.»ioii, CFpccl- 
 nlly ill the huini' county, Isncccxsnry forthutuke of inculpa- 
 ted liiiuliordu, at well iiHoriiijiirid tenuntx. 
 
 'I'hf (luostion is now iu such a position Ii8 to defy nil nt- 
 tenipts lit enuivoctttion or cushioning, »iiicc it is cither tnie, 
 or not true, thut tliu peiii^antry huve been reduced to the I'etir- 
 l\il misery defcrlbed, and this I'uct, ciiu be iiFcertained only 
 by u rigid investigntiun before un independent and strictly 
 inipurtial tribunal. 
 
 BioiiOPRic Of K11.1.AI.OK. — It Is stated that his Grace the 
 Archbishop ofC'nsliel and Emly has received from Homo 
 a rescriiit authorising liim to forward to the lioly See the 
 names of three ecclesiastics ftoni whom the Coadjutor Hisli- 
 op ofthe diocese ofKillaloeis to be chosen by the I'ropa- 
 ganda. — Livierick licportt r. 
 
 TUE DONEliAL liELIET FUND. 
 
 ( From the Londonderry Journal. ] 
 The present condition of the peasantry of the wilds of 
 
 UoiiKgal can, we believe, tlii<l no pumllel in any other cuuii- 
 
 ty lliruiigliout Jieland— in any city, town, county, shins or 
 
 district of conntr)- that has tlio least pretensions to the term 
 
 clvillze<l. With the exception of any iiirormation they may 
 
 liave n-ceived IVoiii the statements that have already ap|)car- 
 
 ed in the public press, jKople at a distance can have no con- 
 ception of the horrible state of things in this most remote 
 •junrter of our island. The poor negro slave is provided by 
 his master with food sulllcient to prescr%e his health and 
 stivngth, and with covering siiitable to the climate iu which 
 he lives, and sullicient to satisfy the demands of decency. 
 The Kussiau serf is well cand lor. In idolatrous China, 
 where England is now raging her unjiistiliable war of ng- I "• *"* * ' 
 
 gre.<sIoii, tlic humblest ol the jwople arc, comparatively | Cork. The late Miss F.. Lily, of Cork, has bequeathed 
 speaking, well clothed, housed and fed. In what quarter of the following legacies:— Totlie Trinitarian Bible Society, 
 the globe, then, arc wc to turn in order to lind a parallel po- 3l)0X ; to the I'roleslant Orjilian Society, lOOOi: ; to the So- 
 ailion of misery to thut j)ourtraycd by the Koman Cathvjlic eicty for the Conversion of Jews, lUOJ;. These sums are to 
 clergymen of Donegal in the apiKal which we print to.day be kept in iieipeluity lor the benelit ofthe above charities. 
 
 iu our advertising columns! ^-».»-^^ 
 
 Tlie jixfiianhen quotes IVom the appeal, which will bo | Lijiekick. The Parskikle Testimonial. The Mayor 
 
 found in another part of our poper. | has received from an excellent county Limerick man, Mr. 
 
 I, is on Mialf of this oppressed and wretched population Gillian Coflej^ of rallasgrean, the subscription of One 
 
 that the clergy of Donegal appeal to a generous public for Tound for the .^arsheld Jest.monia . To Mr. Cofley the 
 
 assistance and support. We trust that their appeal will not «P<"^» f"""l'»'' «>iere Snrsheld'shrst battle was fought and 
 
 be made in vain. This is no jMirty movement; it is solely a | "°" ■''■'"'"'''• .^''''S 
 
 solemn and cluiritable appeal to the sympathies of the liu- , " 
 
 mane and generous; and we trust that every creed and class MISCELLANAE. 
 
 will join in contributing something to alleviate the wretch- 
 
 cdncss and mi.^ery of these people. Kor should the misery of , A simple Remedy.— Dr. Denees sa>s that he has 
 the poor pca,«ants of awc.e<lore and Cloughaneely be looked , ^^.^^^ ^^^^ .^^^^^^ ^^,^^^ ^^^^. ^^ ^^^^^ exquisite ag- 
 upon as morvly of local interest. 1 hey should penetrate | " ., f. 
 
 the hearts of Christians of every denomination throughout | <>"}'. rendered perfectly quiet and easy by a draught 
 the land; and as the slightest pain inflicted ou any part of of cold water. 
 
 Ihchumanfraniei^sfcdttliroughevery nerve and vein, so CATECniSM. - Pedagogue ; Who was 
 
 the outrages perpetrated on the least protected portion of I vj^-v.. 1 ..-» v^ . '^ , ^^ . , , 
 
 our population should rouse the generous sjmpatliy of eve- | Gohath ? Boy : The muckle-giant whom David slew 
 ry honest Irishman, from Arranmore to Skibbercen, who ^ with a sling and a stand. Pedagogue : who was Dav- 
 hates oppression and cun feel for itssull'ering victims. With | ;,j 5 The son of Jesse. Pedogogue: who was Jesse! 
 these earnest remarks, we leave the case of these unhappy ^ , j^^ ^^^^j. ,^ Doublalid. 
 creatures to the calm consideration of our renders, confident I 
 
 that a characteristic ii'sponse will substantially and speedily I If you would have an idea of the ocean in a storm, 
 come from all who denounce the tyranny il-om which they just imagine four thou.<;and liills and four thousand 
 sulTer. 1 mountains, all drunk, chasing one another overncwly- 
 
 Tlie Stonrforrf on the same subject :— plowed ground, with lots of caverns in it for them to 
 
 Our advertising columns contain a document headed , gtcj, [^ nQ^y and then. 
 'Gwcedoreand Clonglianecly Kclief Fund,' to which wcdi- I . ., , 1 » <• ..u • • i 1 • /■ 
 
 r*ot the attention ofthe public of all classes. In this docu- | A sailor dropped out of the rigging of a ship of war 
 mentis embodied an 'Appeal,' setting forth statistical facts , some fifteen or twectj feet, and fell plump on the head 
 relative to the condition ofthe unfortunate people in the of the first lieutenant. 'Wretch!' said the officer, af- 
 localitics mentioned, and these facts are ollicially authenti- ' jp^ ]|g 1,^(1 picked himself up, 'where the devil did you 
 
 come from. 
 
 ' From the north of Ireland, yer honor.' 
 Scandal. — Edmund Burke said that the best way 
 to deal with scandal was to' live it down.' George 
 Colman remarked of one who had slandered him that 
 
 cated by the names of sink lioman Catholic clerg>mcn, 
 who vouch for the truth of the siatements here publi.ilied, 
 ond when thousands of human beings are in the wretched 
 state dcscriljed, all secondary matters arc out of the ques- 
 tion. It is either true or l^lse. that the people have been 
 treated by their landlords in the manner represented; and 
 
 it is cither true or false that their sufferings arc such as the , . ■ 1 ,■■ 1 
 
 nine witnesses above alluded to have publicly testiflcd before scandal and dl report from such mij^ht he hkened to 
 the world. I fuller's earth — it daubed the coat a little at first, hut 
 
 The statement, in brief, is, that eight hundred families are when it was rubbtd off the coat w.as so much the 
 subsisting upon shell lish and sea weeds— that seven hundred cleaner. 
 
 families have neither bed norbedclothcs— that eight hundred ! , , 11111111 
 
 , ,,.■..».■ 1 ■■•I- A tenant whose arrears had been liopelcsslv onged 
 
 flimiliea arc without second bed— that thousands 01 indi- I .iv ii.ii.im, «(iu=v. "■ ■>-■' 1 .1 b 
 
 viduals have only o.if cotton shirt, and many others none at for, presented himself smilingly to the landlord to pay 
 all, with much more to the same effect. I him. lie ihumped down the notes and got his receipt. 
 
 Here arc startling facts, which can be tested by inquiry; The servant letting him out declared that ' it was a 
 and if it !«.• true that the population ofthe district iu qiies- gjj,^ liefore death ' to see him doing such a thing. 'Is 
 tiod are really in the horrible destitution alleged, we can j^"; ^. .^ jjj,^^ ^^j^,^ ^ -^ 'there's my receipt, and t'. e 
 hardly conceive anything more disgraceful to the Christian- ,'..,, , , , . .1 . ' 1 ■ . 1 
 
 •,.;.. .•-,.. .. . <•„ „ r.„ ; bank s broke, and the best tiling you can do is to ad- 
 
 itv and civilization of the nineteenth century, 80 fer as Ire- """"^ '" "'"'^'' """' ■" " • 
 
 land is concerned. vise the master to give what he has got to a chanty 
 
 We may add. that, fl-om various independent sources, we hcfore 'tis found out. 
 have In d numerous accounts, for a considerable time past, j^^^^ .^ ^ ^^^^^ ^^ , ^^.,,;^,, ,,.j j,,^,,^ ,^,.g y^^ 
 
 nil concurring in the general statement, that the condition I , ,. , , t,. 1 1 
 
 ofthe peasanir,- iu the far west of DonegiU is nearly, if not were made to he kind and generous. If the.e ,s aboy 
 altogether, as bad as it was during the famine years. The in school who has a club foot, don t let him know you 
 case now takes the form of an apiieal to the public humani- ever saw it. If there is a boy wiili ragged clothes don't 
 ty. and this is an argument which admits neither of post- ^^^1,^ 1^,1^^, j.„gg j^ |,jg hearing. If there is a lame boy, 
 poncmcutoreva..ion. Whatever may h»p,H..n to landlord ^^.j ,„ ,,i^ ,o,„e part of the L-ame which does not 
 economy, or to class interests, human beings cannot, and "' f' . '^ . ; ■ 1 ,- . 
 
 must not be left to starve by wholesale. | require running. It there is a dull one, help liim to get 
 
 The very first thing to be done by a charitable public, his lessons. If a larger ora stronger boy has injured 
 without regard to political or sectarian considerations, is to yon, forgive him, and request the teacher not to pun- 
 provide the means of immediate relief. The next thing isto jsh him. All the school will show by their countcnan- 
 briug the entire case under the scrutiny of a I'arlianientar}- ^^^^ ^^^^^. ^^^^^ ^g,,^^ j^ |^ f^ i,avc a gieat soul than a 
 
 Commission, with a view to future measures of a remedial 
 character. 
 
 The Milford people ought not to lose a moment in having 
 their petition as numerously signed as possible, and sent 
 
 fijrward to the House of Commons immediately after its re- -,,,,,., • _ . .i,„ .:~„„fi.., ,!« 
 
 ai>sembling. An inquiry into the transactions at Milford, England, had in her possession ut the timeofhcr do 
 caiuiot be reasonably denied, and the extension of this iu- Cease 330 dresses. 
 
 Strong arm. 
 
 A LARGE Wahdrore. — A maiden lady of aristo- 
 cratic connexions, recently deceased in the Ea^t Hiding 
 
 ANECDOTE OF THE IRISH HEBELLION. 
 
 After tlio battle of Bullynahieh, in the year \"9^, tha 
 British never gave quarter, which accounts for the eir- 
 cuinstancc that few or no prisoners were made. — 
 Amongst those who perished on this occasion was a 
 young and interesting female. Many were the roman- 
 tic occurrences of a similar nature at this unfortunate 
 period, but none perlia]is more deserving of our sym- 
 pathy than the interesting subject of the )irescnt inci- 
 dent. The men of Ards were distinguished for their 
 courage and discipline, and their division boro a full 
 share in the disasters of the day. In this division were 
 two young men remarkable for their early nttuchmeot 
 and continued friendship. They were amongst the 
 first to take up arms, and from that moment had never 
 been separated. They fought side by side, cheering, 
 defcniling, and encouraging each other, as if the suc- 
 cess of the field solely deiiended on their exertions. — 
 Monroe had assigned on the 12th a separate command 
 to each, but they entreated to he permitted to conquer 
 or perish together. One had an only sister ; she was 
 the pride of a widowed mother, the loved and admired 
 of their village, where to this hour the porfectiim of 
 female beauty is described as it approximates in re- 
 semblance to the fair Elizabeth Grey. She had seen 
 her brother and his friend march to the fiild; she had 
 bidden one adieu wiiii the fond affection of a sister, but 
 a feeling more tender watched for the safety of the oth- 
 er. Every hour's absence rendered separation more 
 painful ; every moment created additional suspense. — 
 She resolved to follow her brother — her lover — to the 
 field. Tlio fatal morn of the I3th had not yet dawned 
 when she reached Ednevady heights. The troops of 
 the Union were in motion. She joined the embattled 
 ranks. The enthusiasm of love supported her through 
 the perils of the fight ; but borne down in the retreat, 
 she fell in the indiscriminate slaughter, while her broth- 
 er and her lover perished by her side. The town of 
 Ballynahich was jidlaged and fired. So intent were 
 the British troops on plunder, that many fugitives es- 
 caped the slaughter to which they must otherwise have 
 fallen victims. Subsequent court-martials, however, 
 afibrded an ample scope for the indulgence of the san- 
 guinary passions. The bravo Monroe was one of their , 
 first victims. Two days after the battle his place off 
 concealment was discovered ; his person was soon iden- I 
 tified ; nothing further was >yanting. He knew the 
 fate that awaited him. With a quick but a firm step 
 and undaunted composure he ascended the scaffold, 
 evidently more desiious to meet death than to avoid 
 it. He was executed in the 31st year of his age, at 
 the front of his own house, where his wife, his mother, 
 and sister, resided. His head was severed from his 
 body, and exhibited upon the market-house on a pike, 
 so situated as to be the first and last object daily before 
 the eyes of his desolate family. 
 
 Sensible acts of violence have an epidemic force ; 
 they operate by sympathy; they possess the air, as it 
 were, by certain tender iiiHueiices, and spread tlie kin- 
 dred passion through the whole commnnity. 
 
 M 
 
 E.MillKK & (A.MritELL, Attokxeys and CooK- 
 sKi.i.oKS At L.vw, Xo. 39 and 41 Ann street, near 
 .\ii>siin. .New Vork. 
 .NuTAHV IL'liLIC, Commi.srioner for the United 
 
 Sr.vvy.s I iiiiiT op Claims. 'Iiki.mas Francis Meaoh- 
 ri!, haviii;.' liiniMil a paitiivrship willi .Mai.c.^.m Cami'UELL. 
 for (lie l..lK-ia: fnicliie i.llln- l.iiw. li.e linn «ill continue 
 toiii.i.ilith.irall.lili.in ti. ^u^■h l:iiv l.ll^il.,-s a.- iii:,v be in- 
 trustcii to llieni, iiii'IiMlMi- ( .iin,.i:im-iii-, pr:nlic'e iii all the 
 Courts i.l'tli.' .•<l:il.- "I New V..rk. and nl llje fhilid .States, 
 
 and K..-iier:il •.■liiij; l.u^ill, -> in all parts of tlie world.— 
 
 l'artuMi):ir all. mi, .11 «ill bu^.jveri t.. the prOMCUlion of 
 chiims auiiiiist tin- I niled .Slates ill tlie ( iiurt of Cluiliis. 
 
 [i:7-.Mr. .Ileagher may be eon.sulted daily on Law Busi- 
 ness o;i/v. at Nos. 3U and 41 Ann street, froin three till five 
 o'clock I'.M. Iebl3 
 
 SE. SAMtdHX. Wholesale and Ketail Dealer in Cold 
 .^ • and .SILVER Watches. Jewelkv, Silver Ware, 
 Fancy Looks,. &c. Ko. 134 Federal Street. Hoston. 
 
 [Lt^ I'artieular attention given to Itepairing Watches, 
 Clocks, Jewelry, &c. &c. Iebl3 
 
 ~A WILLIA.MS& ('<1.. Wli(.liMi)i Au'intf, for tin; IRISH 
 J^X. MlscLLLAXV. 'the 'llailc -ll|.|.ii..l Milh r.ociks. I'e- 
 riodicals and >;ewspapers. ."spicial .\j:eiits tor Harper & 
 Brothers i'ublicatious. JCo. luu Waeliiiigton jticet. 
 feb20 lioSTON. 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 63 
 
 ADVERTISEME]S"TS. 
 
 T. & A would iuibrm Publishers, Authors and Printers, 
 thiit they are prepared to utidertnke"all ordei-s for Design- 
 ing, Drawing, and Engiavinj;, iVom a single illustration to 
 a series ot" any extent, for liuoks and Newspapers with a 
 strict regard to superior workmanship and moderate charges. 
 
 PMOKKT.S, APOTHECARY, Corner Federal andPur- 
 • cliase streets, foot of Summer street, 'Boston. 
 Strict personal attention paid to compounding I'hysician's 
 Prescriptions. A choice selection of Family JIedicines 
 constantly on hand. A well selected Stock of genuine im- 
 ported Perfumery and Fancy Goods. Soda Water with 
 choice Svnips. A large assortmcut of Genuine Havana 
 Cigars cunstuntlv on hand. feb 13 
 
 I X. KEATIXC, Desioxer and Engkavekon "Wood, 
 • Ko. 2 Spring Lane, Bostox At Jackson & Foynes. 
 
 WHY BUEX GAS BY DAYLIGHT ? STEPHEN' 
 KOE & CO., Inventors and Manulactnrcrs of the 
 Impuoved Daylight Peflectok, for ditlnsing the 
 healthy light of dav into all dark places. No. 23 State St., 
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 of all II;,. r,,; , l; .m;;.- i\ ;,,, , M , . i .■ -|,. ,■( In I ly all- 
 
 noun,',' I,, ;; . ' ,■ i;, . ;,; ,;■ ..] r . ..|, ;;|,,I ,\ . York, 
 
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 ami lii-lrll I',': ,;,,,,,,,,,., n , I,ectUlt^ 
 
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 Owing l.i II. . , , 
 beeiiohlig.,i . ;,", 
 
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 rerlories compiled for Locul I'ubli 
 
 Weslern Stales. II 
 
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 Chicago, Feb. Vi A 
 
 ' I I tll8 
 
 ' 1 I , "fe"' 
 
 , .1 , . , I I Ihe 
 
 I II I I 1 Is I 111 1, L I 1,1, lain 
 
 1 I men ai d ui pioduttue Jiilo tl is 1 tid w o 
 
 II a lull tonhdentt ol its tapabditit but with 
 
 t I II denct ol the skill w hioh w t shall brii j, to it8 
 
 It 1 1 loUj, beenaiepioith to ourrace hcie that while 
 the publieatioi ol the daj with but lew exceptions tttm 
 with Mle can itatuits ot u ii d ot oui countn— wlilt we 
 aiccontn ualh held up to public t/c c c,\thjn that is 
 fooli h b uib ind Mtious— but httl Ikii i i"t i lace 
 the tiue cl iiactei ol oui iL j li II tl j lie \' or 
 yndic te oui 1 ime 11 d 1 f 1 i tl t ili i uks with w Inch 
 Engl] 1 1 I 
 
 ,/, '- iig cMl It was at 
 
 '" ' I I 1 till, I men d s 
 
 *"'"' 'II 1 pubh h n onthly 
 
 ■•I II ould be etoi d to 
 
 I I I I 1 11 1 „,tat e\pLi e con 
 
 I 1 tl 1 migi It de dtttiiedus 
 
 I , I I I I 1 to lelnquish oui dc i.n, 
 
 t It te 11 lead iltieot, oui mule unpittending 
 
 M Ha \j *- & 
 
 "\\t pioi D etoiepioduce m our weekly peiiodical the 
 wutn sotn im olthc^ititmmdswholaitLOie btfoie 
 us. w'inle we shall also cull from the current Irish litcra- 
 tu,e ot the day, such productions of merit cannot fail to be 
 occaptable to our readers . ..ir country is rich in le^endry 
 loie, and the legends ot the old land, while they Imuse 
 serye to instruct and to eleyate. ' 
 
 We shall therefore publish such instructive tales and le- 
 gends of a high moral tone, that will remind us ofthe lian- 
 py times when we — *^ 
 
 "Sat by the (ire of a cold Winter's night, 
 
 „ , „ AI."",-- ".'I IviiilVieiids felling tales of delight." 
 
 We shall gne laiihlul ,1, -liptions and illustrations of 
 Irishanti,iuities-,,l „,.,■ nun, I monasteries, our plundered 
 abbeys and el;ini'l;„- : ;,;;,! ,Hir pictorial ihistralions of Irish 
 scenery ami aiiti,|ii it us ui]] jiresent to loying minds nianv 
 familiar sr,.„s,;i,;„lv ,l;il,ll,ood We have secured thi 
 services ot lal,;ni,,,l mnsi-. iniil each number of the Miscil- 
 lany will cuiitain iiuniei ous pictorial illustrations executed 
 in the best £t\ le ol art. 
 
 We shall keep constantly before our readers the ancient 
 glory of our country and while we ponder with pride upou 
 the moral and intellectual superiority of Ireland, when 
 Enrfand and the rest of Europe was sunk in ignorance and 
 barbarian ; we shaU point to the past as an incentive to the 
 future. 
 
 The biographies of di,s(ii,:-eM;rrl Tri;=lmien will be an im- 
 portant feature in the /n ;> ;;- we shall "he bio 
 graphical notices of Lis! , , ;LiMsl!cd in tn erv de- 
 partment of literature. -, ,. ,i ;i,i— ,,f nien distiiiiruish- 
 
 ed on the sea and on land , jn ihc eluuel, the senate and 
 at the bar. ' 
 
 It is our intention to republish the works of Irish writers 
 now out of print, in such a manner that they may be nre- 
 seryedfofului-etimeasn meuHmto ofthe old land, and 
 
 serye to iiir:il,nli,l,,, in 1 1 ,, „ » ,,|- ,|„_, ,.i,j,j„ „i,ner:\t on 
 
 afilial ,■,,-;,;, 1 l,.r II.,- I:,i,,l ,,1 il;,,ii- rml.,,,-. = otutiauon, 
 
 Wepr,,ij,.M-,-,i,„i,„i,.-;,;,. Mill, ,1,,, Duhlln Pn,„y .TaunaL 
 wld^.n",; ,'" "% ; "i;"';; in,l„innded popularity. 
 "rfi , - r ' ;S- '" ; ' "".'/to each number 
 oithatmilmmi pnbli,-;,!;,,;; 1,, . ,, i i;,s we have ordered a 
 
 lont 01 TM;e ini.isii el,;;;;, ,;,,.. ;,, the poems printed 
 
 in tliat.l,,;in;;il m tl;,- h;.], -;,,,m„;,„,. ^..,„ i,j. „p,.ii,,ej j„ 
 Irish el, ai;;,;,,,< ^Mli; I ,;;-,;.„ n ;,n-latiou in ours. This 
 
 departm,-;;! ,-i ih, .1; ,„ ,„i| |„, i„ the hands of an Irish 
 
 f-"::.' '■-■'""'"■>'.■' -^ V-;,, ,, ;.,|,;,-,,l l,,tl,-,a..k. 
 
 I'e,,-i„;.n,,;,-j ,,.);; |,;; ,|„ 1,' -,-,-«nn.i/willbe devo- 
 
 t,-,i I,, 11 ,-,-i;ii,,i,i i,,-y,. ,,; ; -;, ;,,; iginal articles, tales, 
 '■-•;i.^s. ):,,,-n, . \,-. I;, I ,, ;,, , . I ;, II endeavor to ayoid 
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 !'"""■■' ' ■■;>'■ "1 i,,,;,' >iu-li questions as af- 
 
 '"'"'■,""■; '',',^' "";■ '}•' -l-'ll 'li--euE8 with freedom, 
 
 ■'.'l , ■,';"■,(•'' '■ """ "'^" "'o'al, inlellectual and politi- 
 The editorial labors will be divided among several gentle- 
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 '""'■'"" mm, -11, 1 .,in---l;.-,-,l,.||;,-sni,|,ortof every well 
 
 M-l;,-l ,,;,,;,- i;,,-,- \ -- I, ,1 I ,-i ,- i.- i ,,,„„ for such a pub- 
 
 ;k .i,i,;ii .ti;,i ] 11,, nil-,, ii,;,i I mil. lug sliall be Wanting on our 
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9.n ,1. BSM 
 
 
 ^clrctcij crprrssln for % |ris| Pisccllaim, 
 
 POETRY BY TEG MA 
 
 OeRI, ESQ 
 
 ACCOMPANIMENT BY SIR JOHN STEPHENSON, Mus. Doc. 
 Am.- THE Yorxc; man's dream. 
 
 
 Eiiiiiii^^^iliii£ii^g^iSi 
 
 1. As a bcai 
 
 ^^^ 
 
 i^z^E*.ii}^: 
 
 PENSIVELY 
 
 — ~8 — S-T-'S' ^ j-0 --,- -r-— 
 
 ■!> 4 i 1 — — J-4--d — -. — -^^« — ' — ^-T — ^ 
 
 -=5^ 
 
 :t^t 
 
 
 
 face of 
 
 ters may 
 
 glow, 
 
 While the tide 
 
 runs in 
 
 dark - ness ami 
 
 
 zewZT^4 
 
 f3>- 
 
 S 
 
 ^=^^' 
 
 i?£E^Ef=i^S^:H^ 
 
 cold - nesa be 
 
 low, 
 
 Y- — 8 -: — ij.— "^-•-a^-t-=^^ g 
 
 check may be tinged with a warm 
 
 tZltZL-^ 
 - ny 
 
 g?|E^Z*k*: 
 
 ^i^^^i 
 
 IZ± 
 
 :=ir*r=::_t 
 
 ^^r: 
 
 zcz 
 
 
 smile, 
 
 /TV 
 
 TlinMhc cold 
 
 heart 
 
 in runs 
 
 cold 
 
 ly the while. 
 
 'b ^ 
 
 ll 
 
 
 t^El 
 
 
 ;^z:rpig-z=:p-p-f-==|EuZi=ziz=z^p-pzr^^^ 
 
 One fatal remembrance, one sorrow that throws 
 Its bleak shade alike o'er our jo_vs and our woes, 
 To which life nothing darker or brighter can bring. 
 For which joj' has no balm, and affliction no sting. 
 
 Oh I this thought in the midst of cnjoymont will stay, 
 Like a dead leafless branch in the summer's bright ray ; 
 The beams of the warm sun play round it in vain — 
 It may smile in his light, but it blooms not again ! 
 
T\um^^ 
 
 VOLUME L— NUMBER 5. ] 
 
 BOSTON, SATURDAY, MARCH 13, 1858. 
 
 [ PRICE FOUR CENTS. 
 
 THE GIANT'S CAUSEWAY. 
 
 Our readers, perhaps, may be apt, in the words of an Irish 
 tourist, to exclaim, when they see our wood-cut—' this 
 Causeway, that every tourist luts trampled on, thiit has been 
 jketchcd, etched, and lithographed, described by antiqua- 
 rioup. geologists, and poets, system-builders and book-mak- 
 ;rs, and what not ■ — why show us and tell us what every 
 ttody knows? 
 
 In lately travelling from Dublin to Belfast, we happened 
 !o enjoy, as companions, a 'traveller' for a Manchester firm, 
 and a rough, ruddy-tacedfamierfrom the black north. The 
 Eouversation turned ou the Causeway. 'Oh!' exclaimed 
 
 the * Rider ' for Messrs. Twist, Bobbin, Bale, and Co. '] 
 was there last Spring. I just looked at it, on my way from 
 Coleraine to Ballycastle— never was so disappointed in life, 
 'pon honor — terrible cold dreary coast-wind from the north- 
 east enough to cuL me in two— dreadful hungry place. I as- 
 sure you, gentlemen— not a morsel to satisfy the cravings ol 
 nature— not being a geologist, saw nothing to gratify my 
 curiosity, and can't for the life of me, conceive why people 
 should go to stare at ugly promontories, jutting out into the 
 sea, and that ere.'ea is troublesome enough, I daresiiy, when 
 the wind is high— not even a tree to slielter tlie poor goafs 
 that were glad to hide themsehes under basaltic rocks and 
 
 rowning precipices- Iiishmenshould come andseeoi/rGi- 
 ml 't>Cau?:eway the magnillcent Railway — that's a stupendous 
 Aork, gentlemen— it goes between Liverpool and Manches- 
 ter, and facilitates prodigiously the transaction of business 
 —but that useless stupid ati'air — hal ha! ha! ' 
 
 The wrath of the man of Antrim was aroused. 'You 
 Englishmen,' said he to the dealer in soft good^, ' are all for 
 business and the making of money. Why, man alive, if a 
 dticont place that I know about, is paved with goold, some 
 of yees would be after getting a pickaxe to pocket the pav- 
 ing stones! Did'nt ould Fin Mc Coul all as one as make 
 the Causeway for the honor and glory of Ireland? And 
 
 THE GIANT'S CAUSEWAY 
 
 what's the use o" talking about your diHy bit o, a Railway! 
 iurc, arn"t they going to have one from Dublin to Dunleary .' , 
 We'll hate the conceit out o' yecs, by and bye." 
 
 Mr. Trusslebagti adjusted his neckcloth, and with a know- 
 ing wink to me rejoined, ' And pray, my good lellow, for [ 
 what purpose did this Kin Mc Coul make the Causeway? 1 
 Perhap!^ you can tell us.' 
 
 * With all my heart. You see. Sir, a big Scotch giant, one I 
 Beuandonncr, used to brag thnt he would lick Fin Mc Coul 1 
 my day. And he used to go over the Highlands, crowing' 
 ike a cock on it.^ own dunghill, that ull he wanted was a 
 SilrUeldand no favor. So, by my souke, Fin Mc Coul i 
 ffont to tlie King of Ireland— ould Cormac— maybe ye've 
 
 -there was no grand jury proM-nln 
 id he says to his majesty, .•^ays he, 1 ^ 
 
 ul tc 
 
 comeoverto Ireland widout wetting the gore, and I am told that at StaJTa, a prodigious wa 
 
 lircrd o' him 
 
 them days— a 
 
 let Benandon 
 
 sole 0' his shoe, and if I dont Inthrr h 
 
 was lathered in liij life, it»< not myself that's in it! So Fin 
 
 Mc Coul got lave to build the Causeway, aud sure he did, 
 
 all the road, ctaneand nute, to Scotland- and Bi 
 
 ' Well. now. but what became of this bridge? We ju«t 
 abutment, if 1 may fo express myself, of it at Ben- 
 
 iihutniL-nt may be teen— but tl.e bridge, 
 
 what became of the bii 
 'Is it the bridge yon'i 
 
 lifter spaking about? Sure, that's 
 ner came over wid his brourd sword and his kilt, and right "hither your concarn nor mine: but Ml tell you a lit o' a 
 glad he was to got a daceut excuse for leaving his own «Gc.et, Mr.Englishman-when you are travelling throu^-h 
 countrv. He was bate, of coorse. though he stuck up like ' I'^lnud-K^t keep >our tongue 
 a Trnjiin ; and then he s(-tt:ed in the place, and became obc- «*"ttr sneering at what } ou see, 
 dii'iit to King Cormac. and got a purtv diicent jjirl to his^foryel' 
 8oLniedfrim[l.e".i.'"'"""' "'■"" ""'" °'' ^''""" "'" '"• 1 Our readers will perb.ps Imve uo objectiou to drop the 
 
 lyour cheek, and don't L 
 nd it will be all the betle 
 
GG 
 
 llllSll MISVKI.LANV. 
 
 EnglUhmtn, leaving Um «6 chew the cud with Ihe Intt I tlio downs, from wlioio surfnco tlio air arose with a j all the house of Garrnly, arc employed from morning 
 observation.' ' <1"'*^'''"B> undulating: motion ; we were all glad, for, a | till niuht in terliuj about evi-ry tliiii|jr, iiud, conbCiiuent- 
 
 Tho TBsi collection of basaltic pillars termed the i time, to rt tiro to wbirc, under the shade of the project- \ \y in doiw/ nothing. There is Philip— a toll, handsome 
 Giant's Caubomiv, is situated in the vicinity of Hulli- I ing clilV, a ilear cold spring offered its refreshing' wa- ! good-bunioreil fellow! of about tivi-aud-thirty, with 
 money, Coumy Jf Antrim. The principal, or yraud tcr».' j '"'O"'' l«7-y-'o"'''n|,' shoul.lers, and a smile perpetually ; 
 
 caiMetMv, (there being several less considerable and | Passing by some capital legends and anecdotes, | lurking about his mouth, or in his bright hnzcl eyes, 
 
 coniiccied with Dunhiee Castle, but which wo may the picture of indolence and kindly feeling. There be 
 t;ivo ii^:ain, we will take up our author at the Cause- is, leaning over what was once a five-barred gate, and 
 way. leads to the ling-yard ; bis blue worsted stockings full 
 
 ' Wo had now arrived at the promontories of the of boles which the suggan, twisted half way up the 
 Causeway. Port Coan, Port naSpania, I'leaskin, and well-formed leg, fails to conceal ; while his brogues 
 Beiigore, all stood out before us, arresting our lulniira- i (to use bis own words), if they do bt in the water, let 
 tion and attention. 1 have certainly seen cave.s much it out again. With what unstudied elegance does he 
 
 siiittcred frajiineiits of a similar nature) consists of on 
 irregular arrangement of many hundred thousand of 
 columns, tunned of a dark rock, nearly as bard as mar- 
 ble. The greater part of them are of a pentagon Itgurc, 
 but so closely itimpaeted together, that though the pil- 
 lars are poifectly distinct, the very waicr which falls 
 upon them will scarcely penetrate between. There are 
 
 .some of the pillars which have 8i.\, seven, and a few 
 have eight sides ; a few also have four, but only one 
 has been found with three. Not ono will bo found to 
 correspond exactly with the other, having sides and 
 angles of the same dimensions : while at the same 
 time, the sum of the angles of any one of them are 
 found to be ciiual to four right anjjlcs— tlie s-des of 
 one corresponding exactly to those of the others which 
 lie ne.\t to it, although otherwise d,ll'ering completely 
 in size and form. Each pillar is formed of several dis- 
 tinct joints, closely articulated into each other, the con- 
 vex end of the one closely titting into the concave of 
 the next — sometimes the concavity, sometimes the con- 
 vexity, being uppermost. This is a very singular cir- 
 cumstance. In the entire Causeway it is computed 
 there are from 30,000 to 40,000 pillars, the tallest meas- 
 uring about thirty-three feet Among other wonders, 
 there is also the Giant's 'Well, a spring of pure fresli 
 water forcing its way up between the joints of two of 
 the columns — the Giant's Chair, the Giant's Bagpipes, 
 the Giant's Theatre, and the Giant's Organ, the latter 
 a beautiful colonnade of pillars, 1:20 feet long, so called 
 from the resemblance it seems to have to the pipes of 
 an organ. 
 
 About two miles from the Canscw-iy is Dunluce 
 Castle, one of the finest ruins to be met with in Ire- 
 land. For a great many particulars connected with 
 this remarkable place and remarkable coast, we must 
 refer such of our readers as are anxious about it, and 
 have more than a penny in their pockets, to the ' North- 
 ern Tourist ;' a valuable work published by Messrs. 
 Curry & Co., and conclude our sketch with a condensed 
 extract from a visit to the Causeway by the author of 
 'Sketches in the North and South of Ireland.' 
 
 ' It was as tine a morning as ever fell from henven 
 when we landed at Dunluce ; not a cloud in the sky, 
 not a wave on the water; the brown basaltic rock, with 
 the towers of the imcient fortress that capped and cov- 
 ered it ; all its grey bastions and pointed gables lay 
 pictured on the incumbent mirror of the ocean ; every- 
 thing was reposing— everything was still, and nothing 
 was heard but the flash of our oars, and notlring but 
 the song of Alick M'.Mullen, our guide, to break the 
 silence of the sea. We rowed round this peninsular 
 fortress, and then entered the fine cavern that so curi- 
 ously perforates the rock, and opens its dark arch to ad- | 
 mit our boat. He must, indeed, have a mind cased up ; 
 up in all the common-place of dull existence, who 
 would not, while within this cavern and under this 
 fortress, enter into the associations connected with the 
 scene ; who could not hold communings with the 
 ' genius loci.' Fancy, I know, called up for me the 
 war-boats and the foemen, who either issued from, or 
 took shelter in this sea.cave — I imagined, as the tide 
 was growling amidst the far recesses, that I heard the 
 moanings of chained captives, and the huge rocks 
 around must be bales of plunder landed and lodged 
 here ; and I took an interest, and supposed myself a 
 sharer in the triumphs of the fortunate, and the help- 
 lessness of the captive, while suffering under the misery 
 that bold bad men inflicted in troubled times. Land- 
 ing in this cavern, wc passed up through its land side 
 entrance towards the ruin ; the day bad become ex- 
 ceedingly warm, and going forth from the coolness of 
 the cave into the sultry atmosphere, wc felt doubly the 
 force of the sun's power ; the sea birds had retreated 
 to tlieirjdistant rocks — :he poats were panting under 
 the shaded ledges of the cliffs — the rooks and choughs, 
 with open beaks aLd drooping wings, were scattered over 
 
 more capacious, and promontories much grander than , roll that knotted twine and then unroll it ; varying his 
 Pleuskin or Bengore ; but beyond a doubt, Pleaskin is j occupation, at times, by kicking the stones that once 
 the prettiest thing in nature in the way of a promonto- i formed a wall into the stagnant pool, scarcely largo 
 rv; it looks as if it was painted for effect, its general enough for full-grown ducks to sail in. 
 
 form so beautiful — its sto-ied pillars, tier over tier, so 
 architecturally graceful — its curious and varied strati- 
 fications supporting the columnar ranges ; here the 
 
 But let us first take a survey of the premises. 
 The dwclling-hoiite is a long rambling abode, much 
 larger than the generality of those that fall to the lot 
 
 dark brown amorphous basalt, there the red ochre, and j of small Irish farmers; but the fact is that Philip renW 
 below that again the slender but distinct black lines of j Q^g of the most extensive farms in the nicgliliorhood, 
 the wood-coal, and all the ledges of its ditfercnt stral- I „„j o„„|,t („ \,q • ^-gH ,(, Jq in ibe world.' The dwel- 
 ifications tastefully variegated, by the band of vegeta- j j;,,^, lo^ks very comfortless, notwithstanding : part of 
 
 ble nature, with grasses, and ferns, and rock-plants. I 
 certainly could form in my imagination some concep- 
 tion of what the platform, specially called the Giant's 
 Causeway, was ; and think a picture or print may con- 
 vey a very fair representation of what it is ; conceive a 
 pavement of pillars set together, just like the comb of 
 a bee-hive or rather that of a wasp's nest. But noth- 
 ing I have ever seen, I think, so mnch exceeded my 
 expectation for veii/ beauty as the promontory of Plea- 
 skin. 
 
 ' Rowing along towards the Causeway, wo noticed, 
 as we slowly sailed along, whin-dykes, and pillars, and 
 massive basalts. The whin-dykes, as geologists call 
 those perpendicular walls that separate the stratifica- 
 tions on either side, protrude to form the respective 
 promontories of this line of coast, and, where they 
 meet the sea, present many curious forms — here re- 
 sembling a battered castle, there a stack of chimneys, 
 and here again the head and hat of a man, with a large 
 hooked nose and wide mouth, the oehreous rock giv- 
 ing him withal a red face, very like the later busts 
 of George the Third. As we passed along, it struck 
 me that the kelp fires greatly added to the interest of 
 the picture — tlie smoke wreathing up from a hundred 
 places on this stilly day, and in pillared beauty en- 
 deavoring to rival the basaltic columns around. We 
 were shown women ascending an almost perpendicular 
 path, toward^he top of the dill', with large lomls of 
 kelp on their heads ; they looked like mice creeping up 
 the walls of a barn — the toil of llie ascent must be 
 enormous. Our guide told of a poor girl who was be 
 trotlied to one she loved, and who was likely to make 
 her liajipy. In order to procure for themselves some 
 littfe household stuff, and a few conveniences, where- 
 withal to begin the world, they devoted themselves 
 for a time to avarice, here consecrated by love, so as to 
 be indeed auri sacka /hints. Young William was out 
 at sea in all weathers, and Peggy, though fair and del- 
 icate, carried the kelp along that terrible path. One 
 dav, just as she had got to the steepest point of the 
 peak, lier strength fjiled her, and down she came, the 
 load to which she was tied hurrying her along — and 
 before she came to the bottom, poor Peggy was a man- 
 gled and a lifeless corpse !' 
 
 the thatch is much decayed, and the rank weeds and ■ 
 damp moss nearly cover it; the door-posts are only' 
 united to the wall by a few scittered portions of clay ^ 
 and stone, and the door itself is hanging but by ono .; 
 binge ; the window-frames shake in the passing wind, 4 
 and some of the compartments arc stuffed with thef 
 crown of a hat, or a ' lock of straw,' very unsightly J 
 objects. At the opposite side of the swamp is the , 
 hag-yard gate, where a broken line of alternate pal- 1 
 ings and wall exhibits proof that it had formerly been I 
 fenced in ; the commodious barn is almost roofless, and 
 the other sheds pretty much in the same condition ; ! 
 the pig-stye is deserted by the grubbing lady and her 
 grunting progeny, who are too fond of an occasional 
 repast in the once-cultivated ganlen to remain in their 
 proper aliode ; the listless turkeys, and contentert,balf- 
 fatted geese, live at largo and on the public; but thai 
 turkeys with all their shyness and modesty, have the » 
 best of it, for they mount the ill-built stacks, and se-; 
 select the grain, a plaisir. 
 
 ' Give you good morrow, Mr. Philip ; we have had 
 showery weather lately.' 
 
 ' Och ! all manner o' joy to ye, my lady ! — and sure 
 yc'll walk in, and sit down ; my womau will be proud 
 to see ye. I'm sartin we'll have the rain soon agin, 
 for its every where, like bad luck ; and my throat's 
 sore wid hurishing thim pigs out o' the garden — toira' 
 a thing can I do all day for watching thim.' 
 
 ' Why do you not mend the door of the sty V 
 
 ' True for ye, ma'am dear ; so I would if I had the 
 nails, and I've been threat'ning to step down to Mick- 
 ey Bow, the smith, to ask him to see alioi:t it.' 
 
 ' I hear you've had a fine crop of wheat, Philip.' 
 
 ' Thank God for all things ! Vou may say that ; 
 we had my lady, a finc'crop ; but I have alwtys the', 
 bight of ill luck somehow ; upon iny sowkins 
 that's the hardest oath I swear) the turkeys have 
 the most of it ; but I mean to ue iiboiit setting 
 safe to-morrow.' i 
 
 'But Philip, I thought you sold the wheat, stand- 1 
 ing; to the steward at the big house.' 
 
 'It was all as one as sould, only it's a bad world, mad- 
 am dear, and I've no luck. Says the steward to me, says 
 he, I like to do things like a man of business, so, Mister 
 Garratyjustdraw up a bit of an agreement that you de- 
 liver over the wheat-field teme, on sich aday, standing 
 as it is, for sich a sum ; and I'll sign it for ye, and ibea, 
 there can be no miuike — only let me have it by this day. 
 week. Well, to be sure, I came home full o' my goi d' 
 
 Candi 
 e hadl 
 it up J 
 
 WE'LL SEE ABOUT IT. 
 
 (from MRS. 8. C. hall's SKETCHES.,) 
 
 'We' 11 see about itl' From that simple sentence 
 has arisen more evil to Ireland than any person, igno- 
 rant of the strange union of impetuosity and procras 
 tination my countrvmen exhibit, could well believe, luck, and tould the wife ; and, on the strength of it, she 
 
 They are safficiently prompt and energetic where their 
 feelings are concerned, but in matters of business, 
 they almost invariably prefer seeing about to doing. 
 
 Ishall not find it dilVicult to illustrate tliis observa- 
 tion; — from the many examples of its truth in high 
 and in low life, I select Philip Garraty 
 
 must have a new gown. And sure says she, MissIIenne-' 
 sv, is just come from Dublin, wid a shop-full o' goods ; 
 and, on account that she's my broiher's si^ter-in-law'Si 
 first cousin, she'll let me have the first sight o' the 
 things and I can take my pick, and we'll have plin- 
 ty of time to see about the agreement to-morrow. 
 
 Philip, and Philip's wife, and Philip's children, and ' ' Well I don't know how it was, but the next day 
 
IIIISII AMSCKM.ANY 
 
 67 
 
 we had no paper, nor ink, nor pens in the house ; I 
 mciint to send the jjossoon to Miss Hennessy's for all, 
 but forgot the pens. So, when I was seeing about the 
 'greeniont, I bethought mn of the ould gander ; and 
 while I was pulling iis beautiful a ))cn as ever ye laid 
 y'er two eyes upon, out of liis wing, ho tattered my 
 hand with his liill in such a manner that so'ra a pen 
 I could liould for three days. Well, one thing or an- 
 other put it oft' for ever so long, and at last I wrote it 
 out like print, and takes it myself to the steward. 
 Good evening to you, Mr. Garraly, says he. Good 
 evening, kindly sir, says I, and I hope the woman that 
 owns ye, and all y'er good family s well. All well, 
 thank ye, Mr. Garraty, says he. I've got the 'gree- 
 ment here, sir, says I, pulling it out as 1 thought — but 
 behould ye — I only cotch the paper it was wrapt in, to 
 keep it from the dirt of the tobacco, that was loose in 
 my pocket, for want of a box, (saving y'er presence), 
 so I turned what little things I had in it out, and there 
 was a great hole that ye might drive all the parish rats 
 through at the bottom, which the wife promised to see 
 abnut mending, as good as six months before. Well, 
 I saw the sneer on his ugly mouth (for he's an Eng- 
 lishmanj and I turned it off with a laugh, and said air 
 holes were comfortable in hot weather, and sich-like 
 jokes, and that I'd go home and make another 'grec- 
 ment. 'Greement ! for what ? says he, laying down 
 his great outlandish pipe. Whew! maybe you don't 
 know, says I. Not I, says he. The wheat-field, says 
 I. Why, says he, didn't I tell you then, that you 
 must bring the 'greement to me by that day week ! — 
 and that was, by the same token, (pulling a red mem- 
 orandum book out of his pocket,) let me see — exactly 
 this day three weeks. Do you thmk, Mr. Garraty, he 
 goes on, that when ye didn't care to look after y'er own 
 interests, and I oft'dring so fair for the field, I was 
 going to wait upon you ? I don't lose my papers in 
 the Irish fashion. Well, that last set me up, and so I 
 ■ axed him if it was the pattern of his English breeding, 
 and one word brought on another, and all the blood in 
 my body rushed into my fist, and I had the ill luck to 
 knock him down, and the cowaid, what does he do 
 but takes the law o' me, and I was cast, and lost the 
 sale of the wheat, and was ordered to pay ever so 
 much money; well, I didn't care to pay it then, but 
 gave an engagement, and I meant to see about it, but 
 forgot, and all in a giffey, came a thing they call an 
 execution, and to stop the cant, I was forced to bor- 
 row money from that tame nagur, the exciseman, 
 who'd sell the sowl out of his grandmother for sixpence, 
 (if, indeed, there ever was a sowl in the family,J and 
 it's a terrible case to be paying hiterest for it still.' 
 
 ' But, Philip, you might give up or dispose of part 
 of your farm. I know you could get a good sum "bf 
 money for that rich meadow by the river.' 
 
 ' True for ye, ma'am dear, and I've been seeinrj about 
 it for a long time, but somehow I Iiam no luch. Just 
 as ye came up, I was thinking to myself that the gale- 
 day is passed, and all one as btfore, yarra a pin's 
 worth have I for the rint, and the landlord wants it as 
 bad as I do, though it's a shame to say that of a gen- 
 tleman ; (or jht *s he WHS seeing about some ould cus- 
 todium, or something of the sort, that had been hang- 
 in? over the estate since he came to it, the sheriff's 
 officers put executioners in the house, and it is very 
 sorrowful for both of us — if I may make bowld to say 
 so — for I am sarlin he'll be rackin me for the money, 
 and, iodeed, the ould huntsman tould me as much ; 
 but I must see about it, not, indeed, that it's much 
 good, for I've no luck.' 
 
 'Let me beg of you, Philip, not to take such an idea 
 into your head ; do not lose a moment; you will be 
 utterly ruined if you do. Why not apply to your 
 father-in-law ? — he is able to assist you, for at present 
 you only suft'er from temporary embarrassment.' 
 
 ' True for ye, that's good advice, my lady, and, by 
 the blessing of God, I'll see about it.' 
 
 ' Then go directly, Philip.' 
 
 'Directly! I can't, ma'am dear, on account of the 
 pigs ; and sorra a one I have but myself to keep them 
 out of the cabbages ; for I let the woman and the 
 
 grnwls go to the pattern at Killaun ; it'8 little pleas- 
 ure they see, the eraturs.' 
 
 ' But your wife did not hear the huntsman's story V 
 
 ' Ooh ! ay did she, but unless she could give mo a 
 sheaf of bank notes, where would bo the good of her 
 staying '! hut I'll sec about it.' 
 
 ' Immediately, then, Philip ; think upon the ruin 
 that nu\y come, nny, that must come, if you neglect 
 Ibis matter ; your wife, too, your family reducd from 
 comfjrt to starvation — your homo desolate — ' 
 
 ' Asy, my lady ! don't be after breaking my heart 
 intirely ; thank God, I have seven as fine flahulugh 
 children as ever peeled pratio, and all under twelve 
 years old, and sure I'd lay down my lite ten times 
 over fur every one o' them, and to-morrow for sartin 
 — no — to-morrow — the hurling; I can't to-morrow, but 
 the day after, if I'm a living man, /'// see about it.' 
 
 Poor Philip ! his kindly feelings were valueless be- 
 cause of his unfortunate habit. Would that this were 
 the only example I could produce of the ill effects of 
 that dangerous sentence — ' I'll see about it !' Oh, that 
 the sons and daughters of the fairest island that ever 
 heaved its green bosom above the surface of the ocean 
 would arise and be doing what is to be done, and never 
 again rest contented with 'seeing aboot it!' 
 
 GREAT PLAGUES. 
 
 The following very curious article is translated from 
 an old French book, printed in 1621, entitled, 'Le 
 Tableau de la Fortune,' by Mr. Chevreaux. We are 
 not aware that it was ever, to use the old phrase, 'done 
 into English,' before, and though not exclusively Irish 
 we give it as singular and interesting. 
 
 ' There are very few persons who do not know that 
 famine is occasioned by the dryness of the air, and that 
 its corruption engenders the greatest pestilences. But 
 as there are several species of these, there is one whose 
 cause has not yet been discovered, and in pursuit of 
 which philosophy has most often erred. 
 
 ' There was a plague in Athens of such a nature 
 that the birds of prey fled from those who had been 
 seized with it, towards the sea ; and from the bodies of 
 such as were sick little snakes were seen to issue, which 
 fed upon the arms and legs, and which entering again 
 whenever an attempt was made to touch them, envel- 
 oped themselves among the muscles, and caused the 
 patient to endure tortures more insupporrable than any 
 that ever were inflicted by the instruments ( f tyranny. 
 
 ' Thales of Candia was obliged to go to Lacedaemon 
 to deliver ihe citizens (' hy the charms of his lyre') 
 from a plague with which they had been ^Jverely afflict- 
 ed ; and we read in Uoiner that there also was one 
 among the Greeks whose virulence could not be miti 
 gated except by the charms of mu>ic. 
 
 ' The Phalerians, unable to find either remedy or 
 consolation In a phigue, consulted the Oracle in order 
 to learn what wouhl be its final result. The response 
 was that their misery would not cease unless they im- 
 molated to Juno a young virgin every year. Accord- 
 ing to lot, Valeria Luperea was the destined victim. 
 
 In ihe midst of this mou nful ceremony, of which 
 they made a great mystery, an eagle alighted upon 
 her and bore away the sword of the priest, and placed 
 it upon a heifer, which afterwards served as the vic- 
 tim ; and thus the Phalerians with Valeria were deliv- 
 ered from this calamity. In the country of Lacedae- 
 mon a like adventure was witnessed In favor of Helen, 
 and this prodigy which astonished the people prevent- 
 ed them everafter from leading their daughters to the 
 Altar, since they could satisfy the Oracle wuh beasts. 
 
 ' When the soldiers of Avidius Crassus the Lieuten- 
 ant of Marc Antony were in the city of Selcucia, they 
 discovered a coffer in the temple of Apollo, on which 
 they laid hands the moment they saw it. But never 
 was avarice better punished and never was curiosity 
 more fatal than theirs : for there issued from it an air 
 so foul, that after it had infected the whole region of 
 Babylon, it penetrated as far as Greece and passed by 
 the same rout to Italy, causing the third part of the 
 world to perish. 
 
 'After the death of Pericles leader of the Athenians 
 
 at the close of the first year of the Peloponesian war, 
 Thueydides relates that there was a plague so dreadful 
 that it baiHed all the power.s of medicine, and so gen- 
 eral that it descended fiotn Ethiopia into Egypt and 
 L_^ bia, spread as far as Persia, and ceased not till it 
 had desolated the whole of Greece. This author who 
 was himself smitten with the disease, gives an aston- 
 ishing desciption of it: he says the heat which was felt 
 was so great that some precipitated themselves into 
 wells to obtain relief, while others sought the nearest 
 river where they extinguished this fire only with their 
 lives. 
 
 ' In the days of Gallusa plagueof this kind issued 
 from the coast of Ethiopia, which consumed all the 
 inhabitants to the south, and visited all other parts of 
 the world. 
 
 ' And although Cardan believed that it woold not 
 prevail more than two or three years at the most owing 
 to the subtlllty of the air which contained it, the winds 
 changing it every hour by their continual agitation; 
 yet it is certain that it lasted for nearly ten years. 
 
 ' The author of the Chronicles of Great Britain says 
 that in the reign of Calualadrus (?J there was one in 
 that kingdom so protracted that it continued fully elev- 
 en years, and so fearful that the living could scarcely 
 supply the demand for graves. 
 
 ' Three hundred and thirty-one years ago, 30,000 
 perished by a plague at Cologne, 12,000 at Treves, 16,- 
 000 at Miiyence, 6,000 at Wormes, 9,000 at Spires, 
 ll,000or 12,000 at Strasburgh, 14,000 at Balse, and 
 a vast number besides in several villages. The cal- 
 amity alarmed the Germans to such a degree that the 
 majority were more solicitous to abandon than to cul- 
 tivate their lands, on which account a great portion 
 of the population that remained would have perished 
 miserable with famine, while a similar fate awaited 
 those that had fled, if Sicily had not now proved the 
 granary of Germany, as she was formerly that of 
 Rome. 
 
 ' Guy de Choliae records that there occurred in his 
 time a plague which afflicted all rature, and which hav- 
 ing passed from the Euphrates to the Frozen Ocean, 
 left only the fourth part of the world unvisited. It was 
 then that love and charity disappeared from the earth. 
 The sou saw the farther expiring wilhout taking the 
 slightest pains to comfort him; the brother and the 
 sister shunned each other as two irreconcilable ene- 
 mies; the mother nb.andoned her infant, lest she should 
 carry her own death even in her bosom, and the wife 
 far from regretting the abscence of her husband, fear- 
 ed nothing so much as to meet him. 
 
 This pestilence was rcmaikable in this, that amid the 
 great multitude of its victims were found very few of 
 the rich. But two years after, aeeonling to the same 
 author, appeared another plague which scarcely at- 
 tacked the poor at all as if it were intended to show that 
 even poverty is ^ometinles an advantage. 
 
 ' Of all the plagues of which I have spoken there 
 was none more cruel or more fa'al than one which last- 
 ed a year in the chief town of Provence. While in 
 the act of receiving nourishment they fell promiscuous- 
 ly dead. They dropped from the table and expired 
 before they could be placed on a bed, and the number 
 of deaths was so great that the cemetries were not cap- 
 able of containing the corpses. The eflPect of this mal- 
 ady was so instantaneous and so certain, that those 
 who were smitten wrapped themselves hopelessly, in 
 winding sheets, and often their life was cut short in 
 the eflFort. 
 
 ' I speak not here of the plague that prevailed in the 
 time of the Emperor Maurice, changing men in such a 
 manner that they resembled monsters, nor of many 
 others that afllicted Rome, Paris and Constantinople. 
 
 Learning makes a man fit company for himself as 
 well as others. 
 
 A Quack doctor, on his deathbed, willed all his 
 property to a lunatic asylum, giving as a reason fur 
 doing so, that he \u.4ied all bis property to return to 
 the same liberal class who had patronised him. 
 
68 
 
 IllISII MISCELLANY. 
 
 IKI8H MINSTKELSY. 
 
 LET EHIN l!KJli:.MliKI! Ilir. HAYS OF OLD. 
 Let Kriii renii'niber IholnvN of old, 
 
 Ere luT fnitlili'M «oii» la'traj '<! her; 
 Wlit'n Mai.ciii uorr Ibe collur otgoM, 
 
 Which htt wuii frum tier proud iuvnder; 
 Wht'U hiT Kiii|;ii, with stiiiuinrd of greuii uiinirl'd, 
 
 L»-cl the Itvd-llrniich I\ul(;hlii to danger;— 
 Kre tlir cnicraUl giiii of tlie \n>.«tiTii world 
 
 M'lij* let iu the crown of n !<t ranger. 
 
 On I^>imi Neaouh bnnic n« the tlslu'rman elmys 
 
 When the clear, cold eve's decllniuf?, 
 He fees the round tower* of other dnjii, 
 
 In the wave beneath him Nhining; 
 Thus ^llall menior}' ollen, in dreams sublime, 
 
 Catch a glimiis of the days that are over; 
 Thus, sighing, loots through the waves of time, 
 
 For the long-luded glories they cover! 
 
 Miwr's Irish Milodita. 
 
 ADDRESS TO A WILD DEER. 
 Slagnilicent creature i so stotely and bright! 
 In the pride of thy spirit persuing thy (light; 
 Hail, king of the wild, whom nature hath borne 
 0"era hundred hill topssincethc mists ot the morn, 
 The Joy of the happy, the strength of the IVcc, 
 Are spread iu a garment of glory o'er thee! 
 
 Yes! fierce lookj thy nature, even bush'd in repose, 
 
 In the depth of thy de.«ert regardless of foes. 
 
 Thy bold antlers call ou the hunter afar. 
 
 With a haughty delinnce to come to the war, 
 
 Thou sliip of the wilderness, pass on the wind. 
 
 And leave the dark ocean of mountains behind! 
 
 For, child of the desert, lit quarry art thou. 
 
 Sec, the hunter is come, with a crown ou his brow, 
 
 By princes attended with arrow and spear. 
 
 In their white-tented camp, for the warfare of deer. 
 
 On the brink of the rock, lo! he stanrteth at bay, 
 
 Like a victor that falls at the close of the day! 
 
 Hark! his last cry of anger comes back from the Bkies, 
 And nature's tierce child in the w ildcrness dies! 
 ■Wild mirth of the desert! lit pastime for kings! 
 ■Which still the rude Bard in his solitude sings, 
 Oh! reign of magnificence! vanished for ever, 
 Like music dried up in tliebed of the river! 
 
 THE STOLEN SHEEP. 
 
 Oar readers are all familiar with Sir Walter Scott's 
 'Heart of Mid Lotliian,' and will reccolleot the truly 
 touching scene where Jeanie Deans cannot and will not 
 utter what, she knows to be false, to save the life of a 
 sister whom the loves as her own soul. It is one of 
 the most masterly of the descriptions of the great 'ma- 
 gician of the north ;' and if a single individual can read 
 it without havinj.' every sjmpalliy of bis heart aroused, 
 he must he dull if not dead to tlie finer sensibilities of 
 the soul. But at the same lime, we think the ' Stolen 
 Sheep,' which appeared in the annual for last year 
 called ' Friendship's Offering,' not unworthy of being 
 placed fide by side with the scene in the"' Heart of 
 Mid Lothian.' There is not an Iri^hman, at least, 
 who will not feel a strong desire to give the preference 
 to this storv', of which wc here present an abstract. 
 
 Miclmul Carroll was a poor and honest peasant, 
 whose family were visited with famine and typhus fev- 
 er at a time when the wide spread misery of the coun- 
 try rendered assistance from the neighbors nearly 
 hopeless. His wife and a young child died— he him- 
 pelf was attacked by the disease, and on recovering, 
 his weak state and sallow look totally prevented even 
 the possibility of him getting employment. His old 
 father and infant son are starving at home, in their 
 wretched cabin- Slichnul, desperate, and broken down 
 steals a sheep, which he kills, and conceals in an out 
 house. It was discovered— Jlichaul was arrested— 
 and his poor old laiher was taken as witness against 
 his son I 
 
 The assizes soon came on. Michaul was arraigned- 
 and during his plea of ' not guilty,' his .--athcr appear- 
 ed, unseen by him, in the gaoler's eustodv. at the back 
 of the dock, or rather in an inner dock. The trial ex- 
 cited a keen and painful interest in the court the bar 
 the jury-box, and the crowd of spectators. It was uni' 
 versally known that .1 son had stolen a sheep, partlv 
 to feed a starving farther; and that out of the mouti. I 
 of that father it waa now sought to condemn him. ' 
 
 ' What will the old man do ? ' was the general ques- 
 tion which ran ihiough the lussemhly : and while few 
 of the lower orders could contemplate the ])ossibility 
 of his swearing to the truth, many of their betters 
 scarce hesitated to make for him a case ot actual neces- 
 sity to swear falsely. 
 
 The tiini began. The Hrst witness, the herdsman, 
 proved the loss of the sheep, and the finding tlie dis- 
 
 ' ;Vm/ia— The Lord pity hini and inc — I did. Sir.' 
 
 'Doing what < ' — 
 
 ' The sheej) between his hands,' answered Peery, 
 dropping his head, and speaking inandihly. 
 
 ' I must siill give pain, I fear; — stand up . take the 
 crier's rod; and if you see Michael Carroll in court, 
 lay it on his head.' 
 
 ' Uih, mushn, musha, Sir, don't ax mo to do that ! 
 
 niombered carcass in the old barn. Tlie policemen j pluded Pcery, rising, wringing his hands, and, for the 
 and the steward followed to the same cll'cct, and the 1 first time, weeping — 'och, don't mv lord, don't and 
 latter added the all 'isions which he had heard the futh- ' may your own judgment he favorable, the last day.' 
 
 ' I am sorry to command you to do it witness, but 
 
 er make to the son, . "i the nioining of the arrest of 
 the latter. The stcwur.. ' down from the table. 
 
 1 here was a pause, and con. silence, v'l'ch the 
 
 ittomcy for the prosecution broke ny saying tot i "'- 
 ei Iclibcratcly, ' Call I'ecry Carrol.' 
 
 ' Here, Sir,' immediately an.swcicd Peery, as the 
 gaoler led him by a side-door, out of the hack dock to 
 the table. The prisoner started round ; but the new 
 witness against him had passed for an instant into 
 the crowd. 
 
 The next instant, old Peery was seen ascending the 
 table, assisted by the gaoler, and by many other eom- 
 miscrnting hands, near him. Every glanee wa fixed 
 on his face. T'-o barristers looked wistfully up from 
 their seats 'round the table; the jiidj;e put a glass to 
 his eye, and seemed to study his features attentively. 
 Among the audience, there ran a low but expressive 
 murmur of pity and interest. 
 
 Though much emaciated by confinement, anguish, 
 and suspense, Pecry's checks had a flush, and his 
 weak blue eyes glittered. The half gaping expression 
 of his parched and haggard lips was miserable to see. 
 And jet, he did not tremble much, nor appear so 
 confounded as upon the day of his visit to the mag- 
 istrate. 
 
 The moment he stood upright on the table, he turn- 
 ed himself fully to the judge, without a glance towards 
 the dock. 
 
 ' Sit down, sit down, poor man,' said the judffP. 
 'Thanks to you, my lord, I will,' answered Peery 
 'only, first, I'd ax you to let me kneel, for a start ; ' 
 and he accordingly did kneel, and after bowing his 
 head, and forming the sign of the cross on his forehead, 
 he looked up and said — ' My Judge in heaven above, 
 'tis you I pray to keep rae in my duty, afore my earth- 
 ly judge, tl'is day ; — amen : ' — and then repeating the 
 sign of the cross, he seated himself. 
 
 The examination ofthe witness commenced, and 
 humanely proceeded as follows — (the counsel or the 
 prosecution taking no notice of the superfluity of 
 Pecry's answers) 
 
 ' Do you know Michaul, or Jlichacl, Carroll, the 
 prisoner at the bar ? ' 
 
 'Afore that niglit, Sir, I believe I knew him well ; 
 every thought of bis mind, every bit of the he , it of 
 his body ; afore that night, no living cralur could 
 throw a word at Michaul Carroll, or say he ever for- 
 got his father's renown, or his lovo of his good God ; 
 — an' sure the people are after telling you by this 
 time, how it come about that night — an' you, mT lord 
 — an' ye gintlcracn, — an' all gooil Christians tin.; hoar 
 mo ; — here I am to help to hang him — my own boy, 
 and my only one — but, lor all that, gintlemen, ye ought 
 to tliiirk of it ; twas for the weenock and the old fath- 
 er that he done it ; indeed, an' deed, we had'nt a pyra- 
 tee in the place ; an' the sickness was amongst ui, a 
 start afore; it took the wife from him, and another 
 bahby ; an' 'id had himself down, a week or so be- 
 forehand ; an' all that day he was looking for work, 
 hut could'nt get a hand's turn to do; an' lhi..ls the 
 way it wa.s ; not a mouthful for me an' little Peery ; 
 an' more betoken, he grew sorry for iil, in the mom- 
 in' an' promised me not to touch a scrap of what was 
 in the barn, — ay, long afore the steward an' the peel- 
 ers came on us, — but was willin' to go among the neii;h- 
 
 bors an, beg our breakfast, along wid myself, sooner I • "•* * 
 
 than touch it.' | A veterinary surgeon in Ireland has made the dis- 
 
 ' It is my painful duly,' resumed the barrister, when J covcry that horses are as liable to toothache as their 
 
 you must take the rod,' answered the judge, bending 
 his head close to his notes, to hide bis own tears; imd 
 at the same time, many a veteran barrister rested his 
 1 1 head on the table. In the body of the court were 
 1.0 . .«>l"^ 
 
 ' Micnaui, Qwc/i I Michaul, a corra mo-c/irfe !' ex- 
 claimed Peery, when at length he took the rod and 
 faced round to bis son, — ' is id your father they make 
 to do 'n,ma-bourl,a!.' 
 
 'My father does what is right,' answered Michaul, 
 in Irish. The judge immediately asked to have his 
 words translated and when he learned their import, 
 regarded the prisoner with satisfaction. 
 
 ' We rest here, my lord,' said the counsel, with the 
 air of a man free from a painful task. 
 
 The judge instantly turned 'o the jury-box. 
 • Gentlemen of the jury. That the prisoner at the 
 bar steals the shee)j in (|Hesiion, there can be no shade 
 of moral doubt. But you nave a very peculiar ease 
 to consider. A son stcales a sheep that his own fam- 
 ishing father, and his own famishing son may have 
 food. His aged pa'ent is compelled to give cvidcnte 
 against him here for the act. The old man virtuously 
 tells the truth, and the whole truth, before vou, and 
 me. He sacrifices his natural feelings — and we have , 
 seen that thty are lively — to his honesty, and to his l| 
 religious sense of the sacred obligations of an oath. \ 
 Gentlemen, I will pause to observe, that the old roan's 
 conduct is strikingly exemplary, and even noble. It 
 teaches all of us a lesson. Ucnilemcn, it is not within 
 the province of a judge to censure the rigour of the pro- 
 ceedings which have sent him before us. But I ven- 
 ture to anticipate your pleasure that, notwithstanding 
 all the evidence given, you will be enabled to acquit 
 that old man's son, the prisoner at the bar. I have 
 said there cannot be the shade of a moral doubt that 
 he has stolen the sbcep, and I repeat the words. But, 
 Gentlemen, there is a legal doubt, to the lull benefit 
 of which he is entitled. The sheep has not been iden- 
 tified. The headsman could not venture to identify it 
 (and it would have been strange if be could) from the 
 dismembered limbs found in the barn. To his mark , 
 on its skin, indeed, he might have positively spoken ; ' 
 but no skin has been discovered. Therefore, accord- 
 ing to the evidence, and you have swotn to decide by 
 that alone, the prisioner is entitled to your acquiial. 
 Possibly, now that the ])roseculor tees the ease in its 
 full bearing, he may be pleased with the result.' j 
 
 While the jury, in evident satisfaction, prepared to I 
 return their verdict, Miihuul's landlord who had but a ' 
 moment before returned home, entered the court, and 
 becoming aware of the concluding words of the judge, 
 expressed his sorrow aloud, that the prosecution had ,' 
 ever been undertaken ; that circumstances had kept , 
 him uninformed of it, though it hud gone on in his 
 name ; and he heggid leave to assure his lordshp that 
 it would be his future clfort to keep Michael Carroll 
 in his former path of honesty, by finding him honest 
 and ample employment, and, as far as in him lay, to 
 reward the virtue of the old father. 
 
 While Peery Carroll was lau;;hing and crying in 
 ore breaih, in the arms of his delivered son, a subscrip- 
 tion, commenced by the bar, was mounting into a «on- 
 siderable sum for his advantage. 
 
 Peer)' would at length cease, — ' to ask you for further 
 information. Tou saw Michael Carroll in tht bam, 
 that night ? — ' 
 
 masters. A valuable horse recently save by the ex- 
 traction of a deceased tooth. Here is an[idea that pre- 
 sents an opening for some enterprising Yankee. 
 
IIUSII MISCELLANY. 
 
 (59 
 
 A STRANGE LORD CHANCELLOR. 
 
 Loril Northington, remnrkalilo for his profligate and 
 brulnl manner of expressing liimself on all occasions, 
 wliicli hail procured for him the niek-namo of Surly 
 Bob, being at the point of dcatli, exclaimed, 'I'll bo 
 hanged if I am not dving!' During his sickness, his 
 wife, daughter, and sonic fcnmle relations, coming to 
 ask the state of his liealth, could notrefrain from weep- 
 ing; on wliich, in a passion, he roared out to his nurse 
 ' turn out all these snivelling brats except Bridget !' 
 the lady distinguished by this delicate preference was 
 his daughter. Lady Bridget Lane. 
 
 During the same illness, he sent for the Duke of 
 Chandos, then Marquis of Caernarvon, a man of great 
 
 piety, ho though surprised at the message, waited 
 upon lii/n, and begged to be honored with his lordship's 
 commands. 'I sent for you,' says Bob, 'to beg you 
 to recommend to me some able parson, whose advice 
 I might safely take in regard to the necessary settle- 
 ments respecting the future welfare of my soul, which 
 I fear V. ill be shovlly ejected from my body.' 'My 
 lord,' replied the Marquis, 'I am surprised at the 
 qnestio ; as chancellor, your lordship has had the 
 disposal of much church preferment, which doubtless 
 you always bestowed on pious and deserving persons. 
 For example, what do you think of Dr. T — tV 
 'Oh! name him not,' loudly exclaimed the quondam 
 chancellor, ' that is one of my crying sins ; I shall 
 
 certainly be condemned were it only for making that 
 fellow a dean !' 
 
 On his death-bed he ordered his gardener to cut 
 down some clumps of trees, purely, as it is said, because 
 they were agreeable to his son. The gardener willing 
 to worship the rising sun, neglected to do it, expecting 
 every moment the death of his old master. He, in- 
 ([uiring whether his commands had been obeyed, and 
 being answered in the negative, easily conceived the 
 gardener's motive for disobedience, and sending for 
 him up into his cliamber, thus addressed him ; ' So, 
 you brute, you have not done as I ordered you ; you 
 think I am going: so I am, you ugly monster ; butyou 
 shall go first ; strip him,' said he, to some of his at- 
 tendants, ' and kick him out of the house.' 
 
 THE BOTANIC GARDENS. 
 
 If there be a single citizen of 
 Dublin, who, during this delightful 
 weather, can devote a morning to a 
 visit to the Botanic Gardv:ns at 
 Glasnevin, and has not, or will not, 
 do it, we hold him to be a craven 
 philosopher or a walking polypus 
 — one of those living things who 
 TCgetate like the cabbage, with 
 scarcely the attraction, and nothing 
 of the usefulness of that broad-leav- 
 ed plant. This may be said to be 
 severe — but really, at this particu- 
 lar time, when Flora has drawn 
 across the earth her carpet of ' pur- 
 ple, green, and gold,' when nature 
 is laughing in her merriest mood, 
 and every bird of the air is sending 
 its glad notes into the empyrean, 
 will man be dull and dead to all 
 that is great and glorious in tlie 
 works and wonders of the blessed 
 Creator ! 
 
 Now the citizens of Dublin are a 
 very intelligent people — and of 
 
 be understood, from attending even an occasional lec- 
 ture. Something may lie gleaned even from an oc- 
 casional attendance — something worth treasuring up 
 — something which may open not merely the mind 
 but the heart. Every one rememHcrs the beautiful in- 
 cident in the travels of JIungo Park — when weary of 
 life, robbed, destitute, f.ir in the interior of Africa, he 
 laid himself down to die — but a small and beautiful 
 moss in full fructification attracting his eye in that 
 desert spot, surely, thought the forlon man, that Being 
 who has taken care of this Utile |)rodact of the earth 
 will tiike care of me ; and starting up at the thought, 
 he pursued, with fresh vigour his way. So liavewe 
 seen a lovely modest girl, in a remote vill.age patient- 
 ly attending to the wants and the wishes of a peevish 
 and deceased parent, and apparently unnoticed and 
 unknown, yet creating in the mind of the casual ob- 
 server, so deep a feeling, so intense, as to awaken 
 within the heart the sentiment of virtue, .and kindle 
 the flame of gratitude. 
 
 Botany made but a small progress in Ireland till 
 within the Last fifty years. It was the well known 
 Doctor Wade, who may be said to be the founder of 
 the Botanic Gardens at Glasnevin. lie drew up a me- 
 morial, and presented it to the Irish parliament — and 
 during the course of several years various sums have 
 been granted for this national object. The choice of 
 the ground is exceedingly happy. Glasnevin is one of 
 the most romantic suburbs of Dublin, associated both 
 with historic and classic recollections. In this delight- 
 ful neighborhood, once resided, either permanently or 
 transiently, Addison, Swift, Delany, Sheridan, Steele, 
 and Parnel. The demesne itself formerly belonged to 
 Ticktl the poet, and was bought from his representa- 
 tives for the sum of £2000, subject to a ground rent. 
 The garden and its appendages occupy a space of thir- 
 ty acres — the river Tolka forming a sweeping boundary 
 to one sidj. The original proposition that the gardens 
 
 THE BOTANIC GARDENS. 
 
 should lie placed in the Phoenix P.irk, on a royal grant, 
 was most happily set aside, for though the Park is a fit 
 and proper place for the Zoological Gardens, the Bo- 
 tanic Gardens, could not be more appropriately situat- 
 ed than where they are. And what a privilege is it to 
 the citizens of this metropolis, that three times every 
 week, all free of charge, with no trouble but the trouble 
 of going, if Mu( be a trouble, can a course of lectures 
 be attended, in a place where every facility exists for 
 comprehending the subjects brought before the mind, 
 and it would be unjust to say that many do not avail 
 themselves of this invaluable privilege. The lecture 
 room is small, not capable of containing much more 
 than the number that do attend, which is generally 
 about, on an average, from oue hundred to a hundred 
 and twenty. As a proof that there exists in the people 
 of Dublin a thirst for botanical knowledge it may be 
 stated, on the authority of the lecturer, that several 
 who attend regularly, come a distance of four miles. 
 When we consider what trivial creatures we are — how 
 much more prone to fall in love with our breakfast, 
 after a morning walk, than with the lovliest flower that 
 Flora can produce, we may admit that there is here 
 individual instances of zeal to profit by the advantages 
 which our good city luis — yet we must give it as our 
 opinion, that in general, that interest is not tiiken in 
 the sci':"ice, which opportunities so very valuable af- 
 ford. Now, the very peasantry of the counlry have 
 long been famous for their passion for botany. And 
 that t e old Irish were well acquainted with it, is evi- 
 dent from the fact, that Keough and Threlkeld were 
 able to obtain Irish names for almost every plant they 
 collected. It also appears that considerable advances 
 were made towards a systematic (dassification. Thus, 
 they called by the genuine name of Jieacon, such plants 
 as had tap roots ; lii'nmsmn, such grasses as had creep- 
 ing roots ; Tiathnin, such as hail naked wing stems ; 
 llailhlwdh, such as had imbricated heads, &c. But we 
 are getting at once into the depths of botany. 
 
 course as Adam was ihe first bota- 
 nist, and Eve bis wife a lover of 
 fi uits and flowers, is it unreasona- 
 ble to expect that our fellow-citizens 
 should be fond of bottiny 1 No I 
 so away we speed to Glaseen even, 
 ' the pleasant little field,' or in cor- 
 rupted phrase and common par- 
 lance, Glasnevin, where those splen- 
 did gardens are, of which our rae- 
 tiopolis may well be proud. Here, 
 three times a week. Dr. Litton is 
 to be found, earli/ in the morning — 
 early ! why, if eight o'clock be ear- 
 ly, then the e.arly risers of Dublin 
 permit the sun to get the start of 
 them prodigiously — our friend Doc- 
 tor Litton is to be found, with good- 
 natured, careful, and painstaking 
 assiduity, instructing all who may 
 choose to attend, and giving illus- 
 trations clear, practical, and attrac.. 
 live, to his audience, on the secrets 
 of the vegetable kingdom. Let no 
 one be deterred, by the idea that 
 the science of botany is dificult to 
 
 Ireland, though abounding with a variety of plants, 
 which the exuberance of the soil spontaneously pro- 
 duces, was yet, until a comparativelj- late period, 
 but little explored. The first attempt of modern times 
 to investigate its botanical productions was made by 
 Doctor Threlkeld. lu 1726, he published a short 
 treatise on native plants, especially such as grow in 
 the vicinity of Dublin. He was followed by Kcough, 
 and sometime after by Dr. Rutty, who in his ' Natural 
 History of the County of Dublin,' has devoted some 
 portion to the consideration of its plants. These, witti 
 a few incidental notes in Smith's History of Water- 
 ford, were all that had been attempted in Ireland, till 
 Doctor Wade, in 1794, published his catalogue. 
 From that period public attention .seems to have been 
 strongly excited. The Gardens at Glasnevin were 
 established, a professor appointed, and the public 
 crowded to hear a course of lectures to which they 
 were so liberally invited. Groups of botanical stu- 
 dents were now to be se'in in all directions exploring 
 the treasures of their native soil and picking up and 
 inspecting, with curious ej'c, every little plant which 
 caught their fancy. Now, the meanest looking shrub 
 became an instructive companion to the lover of na- 
 ture^our young men and our young ladies became 
 ashamed of their ignorance — the flowers that open 
 their little petals, and the insects which disported 
 among their silken folds, had each a story full of in- 
 terest. 
 
 ' The simplest floweret of the vale, 
 The simplest note that swells the gale, 
 The common air, the earth, the skies, 
 To them were opening Paradise I ' 
 
 We are afraid this interest has abated — we hope not 
 considerably. 
 
 In our next .article on botany, wc will give a walk 
 through the gardens. 
 
70 
 
 IMlSll MISCKLI.ANV 
 
 soon lie nciir licr, pliiso God, where wo cod sco llio 
 place she (.letps in, often.' 
 
 Thev then scpnratccl nguin ; iinrt Owen, con»i(lcra- 
 liiy iilTnioil liy the nmterniil teiidcrnesa of his wife, 
 proecrUi'd on his JDHniey. lie hiul not, ueiuiiliv, even 
 111 the peiiixl of hi.4 li>nvir({ home, heen ubie to deter- 
 mine oD what partieuhir friend he sljould firi^l call. 
 That Ills weleoinc would he hospitable, uay, enihusi- 
 
 LBO£IID9 AND STOBIEIS OM" IREl^ASD. 
 THE LANDLOKU AND TENANT. 
 
 A.N AUTIIKSTIC 8T0BV. 
 [lO.VTINUKU.] 
 
 ' The oak, aeu^hln. Oh, no; not the hlaeklhorn. 
 It'll h that I brought to Dublin wid mc, the iinlnekr 
 thief, an' that I had while wo wor <i shaui/hrun. Divil 
 
 a one of me but 'ud blush in the (aeo. if I brought it j n.'itically so, he was certain. In the mcantiilie, ho vig 
 even in my hand aforo them. The oak, ahagur ; the orously pursued his journey, and partook neither of 
 oak. You'll get it atwecn the foot o' ilic bed an' thu i refreshment nor rest, until he arrived, a little after 
 wdl' j disk, at a turn of the well-known road, which, had it 
 
 ■\Vlicn Kathleen placed thostatV in his hand, he took I iiecn daylight, would have opened to him a view of 
 otJ' his luit and blessed himstlf, then put it on, looked j Tubher Deig. He looked towards the heeelies, how- 
 at his wife, and said, ; ever, under which it stood ; but to gain a sight of it 
 
 •Now, darlin', in the name of God, I'll ^o. Ilusht, I „.as imposMhlc. His road now lying a liale to tho 
 avUl&h maehno, don't be crying' ; sure I'll be back to - right, he turned to the house of his sterling fri. nd, 
 
 you in u week.' 1 
 
 ' Oeli ! 1 can't help it, Owen. Sure this is the sec- ( 
 end lime you war ever away from me more nor a day ; 
 an' I'm thinkin'of what lia|ipened both to you an' me, ■ 
 
 Frank FarrcH, who had given lilru and his family 
 shelter and support, when he was driven, without re- 
 morse from his own holding. 
 
 In u short time he reached Frank's residence, and 
 
 the first time you wiiit. Owen, acushla, 1 feel that if • f^.u ,i j,low of sincere satisfaction at finding the same 
 anything happened you, I'd break my heart.' j air of conilort iind warmth about it as Ibrnierly.— 
 
 Arrah, what 'ud hap|)en me, darlin', wid God to ' Through the kitchen window he saw tlio strong light 
 
 |irotoet mo ? Now, God be wid you, Kathleen dhee- 
 lish, till I come back to you wid good news, I hope 
 I'm not goin' in sickness an' misery, as I wint alorc, 
 to see a roan that wouldn't hear my nppale to him ; 
 an' I'm lavin' you comfortable, agrah, an' wantin' for 
 nothin'. Sure it's only about five-an'-twenty miles 
 from this — a mere step. The good God bless an' take 
 care of you, my darlin' wife, liil I come home to 
 yon !' 
 
 He kissed the tears that streamed from her eyes, 
 and, hemming several times, pressed her hand, his 
 face rather averted, then grasped his staft' and com- 
 menced his journey. 
 
 Scenes like this were important events to our 
 humble couple. Life, when untainted by the crimes 
 and artificial manners which destroy its purity, is a 
 
 ot the blazing fire, and heard, ere he presented him- 
 self, tho loud, hearty laugh of his friend's wife, pre- 
 cisely as light and animated as it had been fifteen 
 years before. 
 
 Owen lilted the latch and entered, with that flutter- 
 ing of the pulse which every man feels on meeting 
 with « friend, after an interval of many years. 
 
 ' Muslia, good people, can ye tell me is Frank Far- 
 rell at home !' 
 
 • Why, then, he's not jusi widin now, but he'll be 
 here in no time intircly,' replied one of his daughters. 
 ■ Won't you sit down, honest man, an' we'll sind for 
 him.' 
 
 'I'm thankful to you,' said Owen. 'I'll sit, sure 
 enough, till he comes in.' 
 
 ' >> hy thin ! — eh I it mu.st — it can be no other !' ex' 
 
 beautiful thing to contemplate among the virtuous j claimed Farrell's wife, bringing over a candle and 
 poor; aud, where the current of affection runs deep io„k;ng Qwcn earnestly in the face; 'sure I'd know 
 
 and smooth, the slightest incident will agitate it. So 
 was it with Owen MCarthy and his wife. Simplicity, 
 truth, and affection constituted their character. In 
 them there was no complication of incongruous ele- 
 ments. The order of their virtues was not broken. 
 
 that voice all the world over ! Why, thin, niarciful 
 Father — Owen M'Carthy — Owen M'Carthy, is it your 
 four quirthers that's livin' an' welH Queen o' 
 heaven ! Owen Jl'Carthy, darlin', you're welcome '' 
 The word was here interrupted by a hearty ki-s from 
 
 nor the purity of their affections violated, by the ,iie kind housewife :— ' welcome a thousand an' a 
 anomalous blending together of opposing prin. iples, thousand times! Vick ua hokih ! Owen dear, an' are 
 
 6uch as are to he found in those who are involuntarily 
 contaminated by the corruption of human society. 
 
 Owen hud not gone far, when Kathleen called to 
 bim : 
 
 'Owen, ahagur — stand, darlin'; but don't come 
 hack a step, for fraid o' bad luck.'* 
 
 ' Did I forget an) thing, Kathleen V he imiuired. — 
 ' Let me sec — no ; sure I have my beads an' my to- 
 
 you livin' at all .' An' Kathleen, Owen, an' the chil- 
 dhre, an' all of yez— an' how are they '.' 
 
 ' Thrutli, we're livin' an' well, Bridget; never was 
 bctther, thanks he to God an' you, in our lives.' 
 
 Owen was now sumiunded by such of Farrell's 
 children as were old cnougli to rcraeiulier him ; every 
 one of whom he shook hands witli and kissed. 
 
 ' Why, thin, tho Lord save my sold, Bridget,' said 
 
 baccy box, an' my two clean shirts an' hankerchers (,e, ■ are these the little hauchalcens an, colleens that 
 
 in the bundle. What is it, acushla 'i 
 
 ' I needn't be asin' you, for I know you wouldn't i 
 forget it ; hnt for fraid you might — Owen, whin you're 
 at Tubher Dcrg, go to little Alley's grave, an look at 
 it, an' bring me back word how it appears. Yo 
 might get it cleaned up, if there's weeds or anything ■ 
 
 were runnin' about my feet whin I was here afore ? 
 
 Well, to be sure I How they do shoot up ! An' this 
 ' is Atty !' 
 
 'No ; but this is Atty, Owen ; faix, Brian outgrew 
 
 him ; an' here's Mary, an' this is Bridget Ogo.' 
 
 ' Well — well ! But where did these two young 
 growin' upon it ; an' Owen, would you bring me a bit ' ^i^g^^^ j.o,^„ from— this boy and the colleen here ! 
 o' the clay, tied up in your pocket. Whin you're 'p hey worn'i to the fore, in my time, Bridget.' 
 there, spake to her ; tell her it was the lovin' mother I , -^ ^is is Owen, called afiher yourself— an' this is 
 that bid you, an' say anything that you'd think might ! Kathleen. I needn't tell you who she was called 
 keep her asy, an' give her pleasure. Tell her we're ■ nfji,(.r.' 
 
 not now as we wor whin she was wid us ; that we j , (j^tsho, alanna ? Ihurm itoyiie ?--come here child 
 don't feel hunger, nor cowld, nor want ; an' that noih- ^^j ^iss me,' said Owen to liis little namesake ; 'an' 
 in' is a throuble to us, barrin' that we miss her— ay, I ^.^^^ j p^^., fy^get the little woman hero ; gutaho, a 
 even yet— a suillM warhretl that she wiu<— that we i (,yi[j.p„ „„^ j^j^s mc too . 
 
 miss her fair face nn' goolden hair from among us. — 
 Tell her this, an' tell her that it was the lovin' mother 
 that said it, an' that sint the message to her.' 
 
 ' I'll do it idl, Kathleen ; I'll do it all— all. An' 
 now go in, darlin', an' don't be frettin'. Maybe we'll 
 
 • When an Irish peasant sets out on a journey, or to 
 transact busiutss in lair or market, ht will not, ifpovible. 
 turn bnck. It is onsidered uulucky; as it is albu to be 
 crossed by a hare, ur met by a rcd-baifed woman. 
 
 t Light of my heart. 
 
 Owen took her on his knee, i-nd kissid her twice. 
 
 ' Och, hut poor Kmhlcen,' said he, ' will bo the 
 proud woman of tbi.s, when slie hears it ; in throth she 
 will be that.' 
 
 'Arrah I what's comin'over me !' said Mrs. Farrell. 
 ' Brian, run up to Micky Lowrie's, for your father. — 
 An' sec, Brian, don't say who's woniin' him, till we 
 give him a start. Mary, come here, acushla,' she 
 added, to her eldest daughter in a av hisper, ' take these 
 
 two bottloj, nn' fly up to Peggy Finigin's for tlic full 
 o' them o' whiskey. Now bo back before you're Iheie, 
 or if you don't, that I mightn't, but you'll see what' 
 ' you'll get. Fly, nroon, an' don't let tho grass grow 
 undlier your feet. An' Owen, dnrlin' — but first sit 
 over to the fire — here, get over to this side, it's tho 
 snuggest; — arrah, Owen — an' sure I dunnn what to 
 ox you first. Vou're all well .' — all to the fore V 
 
 ' All well, Bridget, an' thanks be to heaven, all to 
 the fore.' 
 
 ' (Jlory be to God I Throth, it warms my heart to 
 , it. An' the childhre's all up finely, hoys an' girls (' 
 
 ' Throth, they arc, Bridget, as good lookin' a family 
 ' o' childhre as you'd wish to sec. An' what is betlher, 
 they're a-s good us they arc good lookin'.' 
 
 ' Throth, they couldn't but be that, if they luck at 
 all afther their father an' mother. Biidget, aroon, 
 ruli the pan bctther — an' Uy the knife down; I'll cut 
 the bacon myself, but go an' get a dozen o' the fresh- 
 est eggs ; — an' Kathleen, Owen, how does poor Kath- 
 leen look 7 Does she stand it as well as yourself;' 
 I 'As young as ever you seen her. God help her! — 
 a thousand degrees botther nor whin you seen her 
 last.' 
 
 'An' well to do, Owen, now tell the thruth ? Och, 
 musha, I forget who I'm spakin' to, or I wouldn't di»- 
 rcmimher the ould sayin' that's abroad this many a 
 year : — who ever knew a M'Carthy of Tubber Derg to 
 tell u lie, break his word, or refuse to help a friend in 
 distress ? But, Owen, you're well to do in tho 
 world ;' 
 
 ' We're as well, Bridget, or maybe betlher, nor you 
 ever knew us, except, indeed, aloio tho ould lase was 
 run out wid us.' 
 
 ' God be praised agin ! Musha, turn round a little, 
 Owen, for fear Frank 'ud get too clear a sight of your 
 hice at first. Arrah, do you think he'll know you ! 
 Och, to he sure he will ; I needn't ax. Your voice 
 would tell upon yon any ilay.' 
 
 ' Know me ! Indeed Frank "ud know my shadow. 
 He'll know me wid half a look.' 
 
 And Owen was right, lor quickly did the eye of his 
 old I'l lend recognize him, despite the little plot that 
 was laid to try his peneiration. To describe their in- 
 terview would be to repeat the scene wo have already 
 attempted to depict between Owen and Mrs. Farrel. 
 No sooner were the rights of hospitality performed, 
 than tho tide of conversation began to How with 
 greater freedom. Owen ascertained one important 
 fact, which we will hero mention, because it produceB 
 in a great degree, the want of anything like an inde- 
 pendent class of yeomanry in the country. On in. 
 quiring after his old acquainianccs, he discovered that 
 a great many of them, owing to high rents, had emi- 
 grated to America. They belonged to that class of 
 independent farmers, who after ihe expiration of their 
 old leasas, finding the little capital they had saved 
 beginning to diminish, in constqu.nce of rents which 
 they could not pay, deemed it more prudent, while 
 any thing remained in their hands, to seek a country 
 where capital and industry might be made available. 
 Thus did the landlords, by their mismanagement and 
 neglect, absolutely drive off their estates, the only 
 men, who, if properly encouraged, weie capable of be- 
 coming the strength and pride of the country. It is 
 this system, joined to the curse of middlemen aud sub- 
 letting, which has left the country without any third 
 grade of decent, substantial yeomen, who might stand 
 as a bond of peace between the highest and the lowest 
 classes. It is this which has split tho kingdom into 
 two divisions, constituting the extreme ends of society 
 — tho wealthy and the wretched. If this third class 
 existed, Ireland would neither be so political nor dis- 
 contented as slie is ; but on the contrary, more re- 
 markable for peace and industry. At present, tho 
 lower classes, being too poor, ore easily excited by 
 those who promise them a better order of things than 
 that which exists. 
 
 These theorists step info the exercise of that legiti- 
 mate influence which the landed proprietors have 
 lost by their neglect. There is no middle classes hi 
 the country, who can turn round to them and say. 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 71 
 
 •' Oiir ciicumstnnces are easy, we want notliing ; ear- 1 
 ry your promises to the poor, for that which you hold 
 forth to MtiV hopes, we enjoy in reality." Tlie. ]Kior 
 poor soldier, who, because ho was wretched, volun- 
 teered to go on the forlorn hope, made a fortune ; but 
 when asked if he would on a second ^enterprise of a 
 similar kind, shrewdly replied ; " General, 1 am now 
 an independent man ; send some /tour devil on your 
 forlorn liopa who wants to make a fortune.', 
 
 I) wen now heard anecdotes and narratives of all 
 occurrences, whether interesting or strange, that had 
 taken place during his absence. Among others, was 
 the death of his former landlord, and the removal of 
 the agent who had driven him to beggary. Tubber 
 Derg, he found, was then the property of a humane 
 and considerate man, who employed a judicious and 
 benevolent gentleman to manage it. 
 
 * One thing, I can tell you.' said Frank ; ' it was but 
 a short time in the new agent's hands, when the dacent 
 farmei-s stopped goin' to America.' 
 
 ' But Frank,' said Owen, and he sighed on putting 
 the question, ' who is in Tuhber Derg, now f 
 
 ' Why, thin, a son of ould Rousiu' Red-head's of 
 TuUyvcrnon — young Con Koe, or the Ace o' Hearts 
 — for he was called both by the youngsters — if you re- 
 mimber him. His head's as red, an' double as big, 
 even, as his father's was, an' you know that no hat 
 would fit ould Con, until he sent his measure to Jemmy 
 Lamb, the hatter. Dick Nugent put it out on him, that 
 Jemmy always made Rousin' Red-head's hat, either 
 upon the half bushel pot, or a five-gallon keg of whis- 
 key. ' Talkin' of the keg,' says Dick, ' for the matter 
 o' that,' says he, divil a much differ the hat will per- 
 sarve ; for the one ' — mcanin' ould Con's head, who 
 was a hard dhrinker — ' the one,' says Con, ' is as much 
 a keg as the other — ha ! ha ! ha !' Dick met Rousin' 
 Red-head another day; ' arrah Con,' says he, 'why do 
 you get your hats made upon a pot, man alive ? Sure 
 that's the rason that you're so fond o' poteen.' A 
 quaremad crathur was Dick, an' would go forty miles 
 for a fight. PoorfiUow. he got his skull broke in a 
 scrimmage betwixt the Redmond's and the O'Hanlon's 
 an' his last words were, 'had luik lo you, Redmond — 
 O'Hanlon, I never thought you, above all men, dead 
 an' gone, would be the deaih o' me.' Poor fellow ! he 
 was forpaeifyin' them, for a wondher; but instead o' 
 that, he got pacified himself 
 
 ' An' how is young Con doin', Frank V 
 
 ' Hut, divil a much time he has to do aither well or 
 ill, yit. There was four tenants on Tubber Derg since 
 you left it, an' he's the fifih. It's hard to say how 
 he'll do ; but I believe he's the besto' thim, tor so far. 
 That may be owin' to the landlord. The rent's let 
 down to him ; an' I think he'll be able to take bread, 
 an' good bread too, out of it ' 
 
 ' God send, poor man ! 
 
 ' Now, Owen, would you like to go back to it V 
 
 ' I can't say that. I love the [ilace, bat I suffered too 
 mucli in it. No ; but I'll tell you, Frank, if there was 
 e'er a snug farm near it that I could get rasonable, I'd 
 take it.' 
 
 Frank slapped his knee exullingly. ' Ma chuirp ! do 
 you say so, Owen >.' 
 
 ' Indeed, I do.' 
 
 Thin, upon my song, that's the luckiest thing I ever 
 knew. There's this blessed minute, a farm o' sixteen 
 acres, that the Lacys is lavin' — goin' to America — an' 
 it's to be set. They'll go the week afther next, an' the 
 house need'nt be cowld, for you can come to it the very 
 day afther they lave it.' 
 
 ' Well,' said Owen, 'I'm glad of that. Will you 
 come wid me to-morrow, an' we'll see about it '.' 
 
 'To be sure I will; an' what's betther, too; the 
 Agint is a son of ould Mislher Rogerson's, a man that 
 knows you an' the history o' them you come from, 
 well. An' another thing, Owen ! I tell you, whin it's 
 abroad that you want to take the farm, there's not a 
 man in the parish would bid agin you. You may 
 know that yourself.' 
 
 ' I think, indeed, they would rather sarvo me than 
 otherwise,' replied Owen; 'an', in the name o' God, 
 we'll see what can be done. Misthcr Rogerson, him- 
 
 self, 'ud spake to his son for me ; so that I'll bo sure 
 of his inthcrcst Arrah, Frank, how is an ould friend 
 o' mine, that I have a great regard lor — poor Widow 
 Murray T 
 
 ' Widow Murray. Poor woman, she's liapjiy.' 
 'You don't m.ane she's dead i' 
 ' She's dead, Owen, and happy, I (rust, in the Sa- 
 viour. She died last spring was a two yeais.' 
 
 ' God be good to her sowl ! An' are the childhre 
 in her place still '! It's she that was the dacent wo- 
 man.' 
 
 ' Throtb, they are ; an' sorrow a betther doin' family 
 in the parish than they are. It's they that'll be glad 
 to see you, Owen. Many a time I seen their poor 
 mother, heavens be her bed, lettin' down the tears, 
 whin she used to be spakin' of you, orraenlionin' how 
 often vou sarved her ; espeshially, about some day or 
 other that 3'ou prevented her cows from bein' canted 
 for the rint. She's dead now, an' God he knows, an 
 honest hard-workin' woman she ever was.' 
 
 ' Dear me, Frank, isn't a wondher to think how the 
 people dhrop off I There's Widow Murray, one o' my 
 ouldest frinds, an' Pether M'Mahon, an' Barney Lorin- 
 an— not to forget pleasant Rousin' Red-head — all taken 
 away ! Well I — well ! Sure it's the will o' God ! We 
 can't be here always.' 
 
 After much conversation, enlivened by the bottle, 
 though but sparingly used on the part of Owen, the 
 hour of rest arrived, when the family separated for the 
 night. 
 
 The grey dawn of a calm beautiful summer's morn- 
 ing found Owen up and abroad, long before the family 
 of honest Frank had risen. When dressing himself, 
 with an intention of taking an early walk, he was ask- 
 ed by his friend why he stirred so soon, or if he — his 
 host — should accompany him. 
 
 ' No,' replied Owen; 'lie still; just let me look 
 over the counthry while it's asleep. Whin I'm rausin' 
 this a-way I don't like any body to be along wid me. 
 I have a place to go an' see, too — an' a message — a 
 fendher message, from poor Kathleen, to deliver, that 
 I wouldn't wish a second person to hear. Sleep, 
 Frank. I'll ji'^t crush the head o' my pipe agin one o' 
 the half burned turf ihat the fire was raked wid, an' 
 walk out for an hour or two. Afther our breakfast 
 we'll go an' look about this new farm.' 
 
 He sallied out as he spoke, and closed tlie door after 
 him in that quiet thoughtful way for which he was ever 
 remarkable. The season was midsummer, and the 
 morning wanted at least an hour of sun-rise. Owen 
 ascended a little knoll, above Frank's house, on which 
 be stood and surveyed the surrounding country with a 
 pleasing but melancholy interest. As his eyes rested 
 on Tubber Derg, he felt the difference strongly between 
 the imperishable glories of nature's works, and those 
 which are executed by man. His house he would not 
 have known, except by its site. It was not, in fact, 
 the same house, but another which had been built in 
 its stead. This disappointed and vexed him. An 
 object on which his affections had been placed was re- 
 moved. A rude stone house stood before him, rough 
 and unplastered ; against each end of which was built 
 a stable and a cow-house, sloping down from the gables 
 to low doors at both sides ; adjoining these rose two 
 mounds of filth, large enough to be easily distinguished 
 from the knoll on which he stood. He sighed as he 
 contrasted it with the neat and beautiful farmhouse, 
 which shone there in his hapjiy days, white as a lily, 
 beneath the covering of the lofty beeches. 
 
 There was no air of comfort, neatness, or independ- 
 ence, about it ; on the contrary, everything betrayed 
 the evidence of struggle and difticulty, joined, probably, 
 to want both of skill and of capital. He was disap- 
 pointed, and turned his gaze upon the general aspect of 
 the country, and the houses in which eiiher his old ac- 
 quaintances or their children lived. The features of 
 the landscape were, certainly, the same ; but even here 
 was a change for the worse. The warmth of coloring, 
 which wealth and independence give to the appearance 
 of a cultivated country, was gone. Decay and cold- 
 ness seemed to brood upon everything he saw. The 
 houses, the farm-yards, the ditches, and enclosures, were 
 
 all marked by tlio blasting proofs of national decline. 
 Some exceptions there were to this disheartening pros- 
 pect ; but iliey were only sutlicient to render the torn 
 and ragged evidences of poverty, and its attendant — 
 careles.sness — more conspicuous. He left the knoll, 
 knocked the ashes out of his pipe, and putting it into 
 his waistcoat pocket, ascended a larger hill, which led 
 to the grave-yard where bis child li\y buried. (^n his 
 way to this hill, which stood about half a mile distant, 
 he passed a few houses of an humble description, wilh 
 whose inhabitants ho had been well acquainted. Some 
 of these stood nearly as he remembered them ; but oth- 
 ers were roofless, with their dark gables cither frvUen 
 in or partially broken down. He surveyed their smoko 
 colored walls with sorrow ; and looked, with a sense 
 of the transient character of all man's works, upon the 
 chickweed, docks, and nettles, which had shot up so 
 rankly on the spot where many a chequered scene of 
 joy and sorrow had flitted over the circumscribed cir- 
 cle of humble life, ere the annihilating wing of ruin 
 swept away them and their habitations. 
 
 When he had ascended the hill, his eye took a wider 
 range. The more distant and picturesque part of the 
 country lay before him, 
 
 'Ay !' said he, in a soliloquy, 'Lord bless us, how 
 sthrange is this world ! — an' what poor craythurs are 
 men ! There's the dark mountains, the hills, tlie rivers, 
 an' the green glens, all the same ; an' nothin' else 
 amost hut's changed ! The very song of that black- 
 bird, in thim thorn-bushes an' hazels below me, is like ■ 
 the voice of an ould friend to my ears. Och, indeed, 
 hardly that, for even the voice of man changes; but 
 that song is the same as I heard it for the best part o' 
 my life. That mornin' star, too, is the same bright 
 craylhur up there that it ever was! God help us! 
 Hardly anything changes but man, an' he seems to 
 think that he can never change ; if one is to judge by 
 his thoughtlessness, folly, an' wickedness !' 
 
 A smaller hill, around the base of which went the 
 same imperfect road that crossed the glen of Tubber 
 Derg, prevented him from seeing the grave-yard to 
 which he was about to extend his walk. To this road 
 he directed his steps. On reaching it he looked, still 
 with a strong memory of former times, to the glen in 
 in which his children, himself, and his ancestors had 
 all, during their day, played in the happy thoughtless- 
 ness of childhood and youth. But the dark and rag- 
 ged house jarred upon his feelings. He turned from 
 11 with pain, and his eyes rested upon the still green 
 valley with evident relief. He thought of his ' buried 
 flower ' — ' his goolden-haired darlin',' as he used to 
 call her — and almost fancied that he saw her once more 
 wandering waywardly through its tangled mazes, 
 gathering berries, or strolling along the green meadow, 
 with a garland of gowans about her neck. Imagina- 
 tion, indeed, cannot heighten the image of the dead 
 whom we love ; but even if it could, there was no 
 standard of ideal beauty in her father's mind bej'ond 
 that of her own. She had been bcauliful ; but her 
 beauty was pensive; a fair yet melancholy child ; for 
 the charm that ever encompassed her was one of sor- 
 row and tenderness. Had she been volatile and mirth- 
 ful, as children usually are, he would not have carried 
 so far into his future life the love of her which he cher- 
 ished. Another reason why he stillloved her strongly, 
 was a consciousness that her death had been occasioned 
 by dietress and misery ; for, as he said, when looking 
 upon the scones of her brief but melancholy existence — 
 
 ' Avourneen machrce, I remimbcr to see you pickin' 
 the berries ; but asthore — asthore — it wasn't for play 
 you did it. It was to keep away the euttin' of hunger 
 from your heart ! Of all our chihihro every one said 
 that i/ou wor the Jl'Carthy — never sayin' much, but 
 the heart in you ever full of goodness an' affection. 
 God help me, I'm glad — an', now, that I'm comin' 
 near it — loth to see her grave' 
 
 [cONCt.nUED NKXT WEEK.] 
 
 Polite Children. — Everybody likes polite chil- 
 dren. Worthy persons will pay attention to such, speak 
 well of their good manners, and entertain a high opiuion 
 of their parents. Children make a note of this. 
 
72 
 
 lUlSlI MISCELLANY. 
 
 THE INFLDENCE OF MOTHEnS. 
 Gen. Wasliinjiton never nitempted to coucrni that he 
 owed hU principles of virlue nnd honor lo the eonnaels of 
 hia mother. In hii> miinhood he ireiiled her with u.s 
 mueh respect and iifleclion as ho did in hin yoiilh. 
 When she was iuforinad that ho wan elected Prc.-ident 
 of the United Stntcn, sho Slid, ia -su'istnneo, that she 
 waa not snrpri.-cd, for ' Gi oriie was always a good 
 boy.' She helived that '(;oo<' '"J.''" '"«ko K""'! "'en.' 
 When Joseph Hiiner w.is Governor of Pennsylva- 
 nia, ho was present at a Fourth of Jnly celebration in 
 company wiih acob M\ers,llo whom he was once a 
 bound boy. The lutier (;■ ntlemcn pave the foil )win(: 
 eeniimcnt : 'J.iseph Uiiner — he was a'ways a goul 
 lo^, ho has still grown better; everything he did ho 
 
 alwaya did writ ; ho made o gotd farmer, and a good 
 legislator, and makes a nrg good (loiirrnor.' 
 
 John Qiiincy Adams once said, ■ Ii is due lo grnt- 
 iliule and nihire that [ sliou'd a< knowUd;,'e and own 
 that, ^uch ns I have been, what it was, huch as I am, 
 whaievcr it is, and such as 1 hope to bo in all futurity, 
 must be nscribid, under Providence to the prccipts 
 and exninplu of my mother.' 
 
 I.rf)rd IJaeon, Jonathan Edwards, Richard Cecil, 
 John Wesley, Sir Isaac Newton, Augustine, Timothy 
 Dwijjlit, and many other distinguished men, who have 
 liveil, speak in similar terms of the inllucnco of their 
 early homes. 
 
 Even when sons have spent the ycar.s of early man- 
 hood in prodigality, they have felt constrained to as- 
 cribe their refortna ion, in numerous instances, to par- 
 
 ental fldeliiy. Thus, Augustine waa the son of a de- 
 voted, godly mother, who instructed him in those truths 
 and principles essential to purity and success ; and yet 
 ho bicamo a vicious wanderer. For years he plunged 
 into sin, without any regard to the wi.shcs of a kind 
 parent or the commandments of God. But finally he 
 reformed and became agoudman, as lie confisscd, 
 through the remembered lessons of the fireside. So it 
 was with John Newton. lie was blessed with an ex- 
 cellent mother. She early instilled the most useful and 
 important truths into his mind ; and still, at riflceii 
 years of age, he excelled all vicious vouths around him 
 in wickedness. He was a sailor, and no sailor was 
 more abandoned than he. At length, however, he was 
 converted to God, as he said through the lessons of his 
 ch.ldhood. 
 
 BENBURB CASTLE. 
 
 The subjoined engra- 
 Ting of Henhnrb Castle, 
 is from a sketch tak^n on 
 the spot bv Mr. Michiel 
 O'Boyleof N'wYork, ai 1 
 by him furnished to us fot 
 publication in the Misiclla 
 ny. 
 
 Benbnrb Castle is ( ik 
 ted on the Blackwit r 
 on the borders ol T\ i i c 
 Armagh. It was lorv, a 
 strong hold of the lyron 
 O'Neills, on the horde s of 
 the English Pale, and no 
 Queen's sheriff dare vi n 
 ture by its frownini: will- 
 The celebrated battle which 
 took place here in 1 59 is 
 thus described by Mitih 
 el in his life of Hugh O 
 Neill : 
 
 ' O'Neill knew that 1 orl 
 Dc Burgh would direct liis 
 cftbrts to recover the lor 
 tress of Portmore, ai I 
 therefore had entrcnclie I a 
 part of his army in a pis 
 of the woods near the 
 southern bank of the Bl i k 
 vanced a mile beyond Bt-nbuib, when they found them • 
 selves in front of the chosen troops of Tyr-owen and 
 Tyr-conncll, led by ibi r chieftains in person, and sup- 
 ported by the Antrim Scots under .James Mac ])on- 
 nell of the Glynns ; and it was now plain that O'Neill 
 had purposely decoyed tbem across the river that lie 
 might engage them according to his wont, on his own 
 chosen battle-ground. The Lord Deputy, however, 
 attacked them gallantly, and was mortally wounded 
 in the beginning of the conflict, and carried off the 
 field. Kildare took the command, but he also was 
 struck down from his horse, and his two foster-broth- 
 ers in rescuing him from the press of battle were slain 
 by hi-" side. The English were routed wiih terribli 
 slaughter , great numbers were drowned or cut 
 to pieces in their flight; and amongst the slain, besides 
 Lord De Burgh, were several officers of di.-tinction, 
 Sir Frunris Vaughn, brother-in-law to the Lord De- 
 puty, Thomas Waller and Robert Turner. Kildare 
 also died in a few days of bis wounds, or, as Knglish 
 historians will have it, of grief for the death of his fos- 
 ter-brethcn. That battle-field is called Drumfluich ; 
 it lies about two miles westward from blackwatertown, 
 (Portmore) and Batileford-bridgc marks the spot where 
 the English reddened the river in their flight. 
 
 • Btinn-Boirb, the ■ HiJlbrow.'— Stuart's History of Ar- 
 magh. 
 
 U L 1 
 
 water, and right in the 
 
 path of the Eniilish army, 
 where, 'to the natural 
 Birengili of ilie place, 'says 
 Morvson. ' was addi d the 
 art of interlacing the low 
 boughs, and casting the 
 bodies of trees across the 
 way.' l)e Burgh insti.ntly 
 attacked and forced this 
 pass.diovc the Irish north- 
 ward across the river, took 
 possession of Portmore fo' t 
 and garri-oned it. Their 
 prayers and thanksgivings 
 for this success were inter- 
 rupted by calling to aims ; 
 and on the left hank of the 
 river they saw the Irish is- 
 suing from their woods, 
 and taking up a position 
 between Portmore and 
 Benburh,* a.s if hi nt to re- 
 new the battle. The Earl 
 of Kildare was sent for- 
 ward to attack them ; ami 
 was shortly after support- 
 ed by De Burgh, witli his 
 whole army. They press- 
 ed forward, and after some 
 severe skirmishes, had ad- 
 
 Thf Bov and his Granumotiihr. — A boy got 
 his grandfather's gun and loaded it, but was afraid lo 
 fire ; he, however, liked the fun of loading, and so pu 
 in another charge, but was still afraid to fire. lb 
 kept on charging, but without firing, until he had got 
 six charges in the old piece. His grandmother, learn- 
 ing his temerity, smartly reproved him, and grasping 
 the oM continental, discharged it. The recoil was tre- 
 mendous, throwing the old lady on her back ; she 
 struggled to regnin her feet, but the boy cried out — 
 •Lay still, granny, there are five more charges to go 
 off yet.' 
 
 DU CAIIILL IN STRaNOHLAU. 
 It having been announced that the Uev. Dr. Cahill 
 was lo preach a charity sermon, on Sunday, January 
 the 24 lb, in aid ol the funds for the erection of the new 
 church now in process of building, in Straiiorlur, Co. 
 Donegal, the inhabitants of that and the surrounding 
 parishes became desirous of seeing and heating, fur 
 the third time, the gifted and eloquent divine, whose 
 zeal and untiring exertions in tile causj of Catholicity 
 and his country, have become as ' household words,' 
 familiar in the mouths cf all. As was anticipated, a 
 vast concourse of persons from twelve and twenty 
 miles distance, purposely came to take advantage of 
 the opportunity aft'on'ed tbem. On Sundny niortiing, 
 from an early hour, the neighborhood of the old chapel 
 presented a most enlivening appearance, and hun- 
 dreds of expectants eagerly crowded round the walls 
 and gate, awaiting with deep anxiety the moment 
 when admittance would be given. Shortly after ten 
 o'clock the commiitee assembled, and the gate being 
 thrown open, in a very short space of time the galle- 
 ries were densely crowded, and there was hardly 
 standing room in the aisle for the vast multitude. — 
 The altar and statue of the Blessed Viigin were beau- 
 tifully ornamented with artificial flowers, lace, &c., 
 &c , procured at their own expense, by the Misses 
 Toner, who dressed both with their own hands in the 
 most exquisite manner. At twelve o'clock the most 
 Rev. Mr. Cullen, C. C, of Mcvagh, offeied up the 
 Mass, at which the congregation devoutly assisted. 
 After the post Communion, the Kev. Doctor, robed in 
 surplice, sou'an, and stole, procei ded to the altar and 
 received the blessing of the Right Rev. Dr. M'Getti- 
 gar, (coadjutor Bishop of Raphoe,^ after which he 
 remained for a few moments in prayer. The congrc- 
 giilion at this time presented a mo-t imposing spec- 
 tacle, exhibiting every demonstration of delight and 
 respect at his ajipearanee. The Rev. preacher selected 
 
 for his subject ' the casting out of the dumb devil, and 
 the return of seven other devils worse than the first.' 
 St. Luke, xi , chap, llj, 26 verse. His discourse on 
 the above subject was one redolent of the most sincere 
 piety, and abounding in the most beautiful imagery 
 and choice lingiiage. For two hours the congrega- 
 tion listened with the mos-t breathless attention, fear- 
 ful of losing one word of what he uttered, whilst the 
 sublimely gifted preacher, in a continual flow of tho 
 most soul stirring and burning eloquence, introduced 
 into his brilliant discourse illustrations drawn from 
 nature. So strikingly grand and conclusive were his 
 arguments that they carried conviction without the 
 least shadow of doubt lo the most illiterate intellect. 
 At the close of the discourse the Rev. Doctor appealed 
 to the congregation to aid their venerated pastor in 
 carrying out the good work. He then spoke in tho 
 most glowing terms of the indefatigable exertions of 
 the Palish Priest, the Rev. D. E. Cojie, and of tho 
 parish generally, and cr.ngratnlated the congregation 
 in the most cordial manner with regard to their 
 health, and the apparent comfort which was about 
 them. He also passed a glowing eulogium on his old 
 and venerated fellow student, the Rev. Edward Boyle, 
 the much beloved Parish Priest of Donnoughmore, 
 whose purse, he said, was always open to aid in every 
 good cause, besides encouraging others to give their 
 mite cheerfully, as God would reward them for it in 
 his heavenly kingdom. The Rev. Doctor wound up 
 his appeal by giving his blessing to the multitude and 
 left the altar. A subscription was then entered into. 
 
 The Rev. Doctor gave a brilliant course of contro- 
 versial lectures on the dogmas of religion, which were 
 numerously attended. He left for Dublin amidst the 
 prayers and good wijhcs of all who had heard him. 
 The amount collected on this occasion was :£11 -3, ex- 
 clu.sivc of all expenses. 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 73 
 
 0:7- We have ko TRAVEixiNO AGENTS. Oiii' ft'iencls 
 ought to send their suhfcriptioiis directed to tlie Editors, 
 throufTli the imiil, or procure their ptipers at some pcriodi- 
 cnl atore. 
 
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 The .irwfWaiiy may also he hod retail, of newspaper and 
 periodical dealers throughout the country. 
 
 NOTICES TO COREESrONDENTS. 
 
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 tended for ini^ertion, if written on both sides of the paper. 
 
 lO" Correspondents must furnish us with their names, in 
 confidence, or their favors cannot he published. 
 
 IC7" We cannot return any manuscript sent us for publica- 
 tion. 
 
 ' Charles F. O' Hanlon.' Your poems are not suited to 
 the columns of the Miscrllany. 
 
 ' Nicholas Leonard.'— Ifwe wore to publish your char- 
 ade we should be inundated with such matter. Wc must, 
 therefore, decline inserting your iavor. 
 
 ' St. I'athick'9 Dat."— The poem thus entitled shall ap- 
 pear in our next. 
 
 'Michael Gkooan,' Waltham.— The passage occurs in 
 the original from which we copied. The illustration you 
 allude to, is not conceived in the best taste. The old 
 man points to Blarney Castle, and is supposed to be reciting 
 to the little children around his knee, the legends and tra- 
 ditions of his race, and the means by which his ancestors 
 and himself were plundered of their estates by the Saxon 
 enemy. 
 
 ' Antiquarian,'— wishes to know if there are any leaning 
 round towers in Ireland, &c. Yes, the round tower of Kil- 
 macduagh, county Galway, leans seventeen and a half feet 
 from the perpendicular. We know of no other tower which 
 leans so much. The celebrated tower of Tisa, in Italy, leans 
 only thirteen feet. 
 
 'James O'Regas,' Boston.— The martyr, Archbishop 
 Oliver I'lunkett, was advanced to the Primacy of Ireland in 
 the year 1069. He was sent to Newgate on the 6th Decem- 
 ber, 1679, and removed to London the following October. 
 He was charged with holdiug a treasonable correspondence 
 with the French court, and finally convicted by the most 
 diabolical perjury. 
 
 He was executed at Tyburn on the 1st of July, 1681, in the 
 presence of a large multitude, and with his last breath call- 
 ed on Heaven to witness his innocence. His head, yet adorn- 
 ed with silvery locks, is still prefcrvsd at Drogheda, in the 
 Monastery of the Dominican Nuns. 
 
 ' J. O'D.' Bangor, Me.— John Mitchell's paper is called 
 the Soiithfm Citizen, and publi-shed in Knoxville, Tcnne.'ee, 
 Any periodical dealer will procure it for you. 
 
 'TvRONK,' Cincinatti.— There are five rivers in Ireland 
 called the ' Blackwater,' and one in England The five in 
 Ireland take their rise in Armagh, Cork, Meafh, Longford, 
 and Wexford. The ' Blackwater ' in England is tbe prin- 
 cipal river in the county of Essex. 
 
 ' HiBERNICUS,' N. Y. — Macaulay says the author of the 
 letters of 'Junius,' was Sir Philip Francis, an Irishman. 
 
 Our New York correspondent's letter came too late for 
 insertion this week. 
 
 Salem, March 0th, 1858. 
 Messrs. Editors:— 
 
 Gents; The Irish Mi.srellany has been received here in the 
 city of witches, with a thou-i^and welcomes, and with many 
 hearty wishes for its future success. Should it keep np to 
 the standard the few numbers already published promise it 
 will be a work of which Irishmen will feel justly proud. 
 
 The various Irish societies are preparing to celebrate' Old 
 Ireland's Anniversary' iu a becoming manner. First wc 
 arc to have a concert and Lecture conbined— the vocal i)art 
 will be by some of our best amateur siuger.s, Messrs. Hard- 
 ing, Stevens, Foley, Garrison, &c. The Lecture will be de- 
 livered by Doctor Fitzgerald ot this city, formerly of 
 Springfield, Mass. The subject is ' British Rule in India.' 
 From the Doctor's popularity and well known ability as a 
 Lecturer, we anticijiatc a crowded house. 
 
 The Irish Reading Room As.sociation winds up the festiv- 
 ities of the day, by a public supper at their Rooms in the 
 Franklin Building. 
 
 With the sincere wishes that the Miscellany ere the recur- 
 rence of the approaching festal day may number a hundred 
 thousand subscribers among its readers, 
 
 1 remain, yours truly, ULFADA. 
 
 BOSTON, SATUKDAY, MARCH 13, 1858 
 
 THE SIEGE OF LIMEEICK. 
 
 In our article in last week's paper entitled ' A Mon- 
 ument to Sarstield,' we gave a condensed account of 
 the first siege of Limerick, in which the prowess of the 
 brave Earl of Lucan was signally displayed — think- 
 ing a continuation of the subject may be interesting to 
 our readers, we purpose in our present article to give 
 an account of the recorded siege, which after many 
 vicissitudes, ended in the surrender of the town to the 
 English. 
 
 Tyrconnel, who by his retreat to Galway, had lost 
 the confidence ot the Irish, and was represented to the 
 French ministers as a cowaid, finding his popularity 
 waning, and dreading the loss of his power, finally de- 
 termined to have a personal interview wiih Louis and 
 Jamc,";, trusting by the plausible arguments he might 
 adduce to conceal the true state of affairs in Ireland, 
 and throw the removal of the stores from his own 
 shoulders, on those of Lausun ; he appointed the Duke 
 of Berwick, Commander-in-Chief, during his absence, 
 and nominated twelve of his own creatures to admin- 
 isierthe government. 
 
 Meeting with success in his journey to France, Tyr- 
 connel returned to his own government on the 6th of 
 January, bringing with him clothing and ammunition 
 and ,£11,000 in money. He found the army in the ex- 
 treme of misery. Baldearg O'Donnel, wiih eight 
 thousand men, had set up an independent command, 
 and made demonstrations of maintaining the cause of 
 tbe native Irish district from that of James. 
 
 During the absence of Tyrconnel, in France, a dep- 
 utation waited on Berwick to represent to him that 
 his power was illegal. They also stated that Tyrcon- 
 nel would misrepresent their wants, and begged the 
 Duke to make the necessary representations himself. 
 After a slight deUy, Berwick assented to the wishes of 
 the deputation, and sent a commission to France to 
 make the necessary explanations. They proceeded to 
 St. Germain, and represented to James that the ap- 
 pointment ot Tyrconnel, as Commander-in-chief was 
 ruinous to the cause ; he was unfit for directing mili- 
 tary movements, and a scientific genera! must be found 
 to oppose the experience and tactics of the enemy. 
 The Irish only wanted a general and supplies. These 
 and o'her representations had their effect on Louis. 
 Sarsfield was appointed general, witli ■ the patent of an 
 Earldom ; and on the 8ih of June, forty French trans- 
 ports, escorted by twelve ships of war reached Limer- 
 ick, having on board Lieut. Gen. St. Ruth as Com- 
 mander-in-chief, together with numbers of men, am- 
 munition and supplies. Te Deum was sung in the 
 churches, and all ranks exerted themselves to put the 
 Irish army in a condition to take the field. 
 
 On the same day, (June 8th,) the English opened 
 the campaign. The fort of Ballymore was captured, 
 and on the 18th of June, the English approached Ath- 
 lone, which was captured after a hardly contested 
 siege, during which, prodigies of valor were enacted by 
 the Irish troops and their allies. The disaster at Augli- 
 rim, where St. Ruih fell, followed. The troops of 
 James then returned to Limerick, where, on the 14th 
 of August, Tyrconnel, who had been attacked with apo- 
 plexy, died. At his death, D'Usson, the senior offi- 
 cer, assumed the command at Limerick ; but all the 
 details were superintended by Sarsfield, whose vigil- 
 ance and activity knew no relaxation. De Ginkle, 
 the commander of William's army, reached Limeric k 
 on the 15th of August, where he calculated on efficting, 
 bj- the treachery and desertion of the Irish oOicers, what 
 William failed to accom[>lish by force and skill, and 
 with abetter appointed army. From the Ifjth to the 
 25th, was wasted in encouraging desertion, and pro- 
 curing information, when De Ginkle found he must 
 venture on a siege. On the ."iOili, the English opened 
 fire from tlioir batteries, which was returned by the 
 
 Irish, with fewer guns, but with steadiness and rcsolu. 
 tion. 
 
 At the same time eighteen English ships came up 
 the river, and the united fire of the fleet and batteries 
 soon reduced both the English and Irish towns to 
 ruins. Although the breach was practicable, the as- 
 sault was delayed, owing to the dissensions and divis- 
 ions which were known to prevail among the princi- 
 pal officers in the town. On the 7th, 8th and 9th of 
 Sept, the English plied their guns and mortars inces- 
 santly, but the efi'orts of the garrison were not re- 
 laxed — the soldiery were constantly employed in ex- 
 tinguishing the fires, raising breastworks, and making 
 sallies to destroy the trenches. On the 13ih De 
 Ginkle was constrained to dispatch a message to King 
 William, apprizing him of the diificnltics of the siege, 
 and the probability of being compelled to raise it. 
 
 ' Brigadier Cliflord, an officer of Dragoons, was suspect- 
 ed of treachery, but owing to (he disunion among tbe prin- 
 cipal otlicers, was continued in command of 150U horse, to 
 guard the passes of the Shannou; lor Lieutenant General 
 D'lisson, tbe governor, had ordeied the Jiisb cavalry out 
 of the town to the Clare side of the river, on which side it 
 was open lor reinforcemeuts and provisions; calculating 
 justly that as long as the enemy reniahied on tl.e opposite 
 bank, they could have no chance of succeeding in Ince of a 
 garrison so resolute and provided. De Ginkle, seeing the 
 difficulty in tbe same point of view, resolved on posting a 
 portion of his army on the ojiposite bank in which at- 
 tempt he was favored by the iiegligence or treachery of 
 Cliflord. During tbe night of tbe Klh of September the 
 English thiew a bridge of boats across the river, tw o miles 
 above tbe town, and about three miles distant fiom tbe 
 camp of the Irish horse, commanded by Lieutenaut-Gener- 
 al Sueldon. At daylight the English were passing over.— 
 Clillord was not very lorward in tbe matter: be brought 
 down bis dragoons on foot, made some show oi' opposition, 
 and then fell back without giving Sheldon (he slightest no- 
 tice of the passage, intending, probably, that he should be 
 surprised and cut to pieces; but Sheldon, by great address, 
 and by stopping the enemy at a narrow pass, effected bis 
 escape to Six Mile Bridge. But a iiiir and impartial court 
 martial could tcaice be formed amidst tbe existing beats 
 and contentions. It was proved that Clillord had had no- 
 tice ot the enemy being at work at the bridge: he admhted 
 negligence, pleaded innocence, and was bonoiably acquit- 
 ted. 
 
 But though the besiegers had crossed therivcr, and erect- 
 ed a fort to secure their new position, this division of their 
 army into two bodies, connected by a temporary bridge, 
 made their situation extremely perilous, llie portion on 
 the right bank of the river might be overwhelmed before it 
 could receive succour Irom the lelt. and vice verta. A coun- 
 cil of war, on the ITth, decided that tbe siege thonid be 
 turned into a blockade— that tbe resources 01 the garrisoa 
 should be cut oil', and a surrender expected from tamine. — 
 With this view the heavy cannon were removed on boaid 
 ship from tbe trenches, and the crews of tbe ships of war di- 
 rected to destroy the harvest on the Clare side. The remo- 
 val and embarkation of the great guns occupied the 191 h 
 aud 20th, and, for the purpose of destroying the harvest, a 
 large body of horse and foot were ordered to the right bank 
 of therivcr on tbe 22d. On their approaching the works 
 opposite Thomond Gate, a sally of 6uU picked men, under 
 Colonel Lacy, was ordered to check their approach. This 
 was eft'ected with great valor and good success for a time, 
 till, overpowered by a continued supplv of both horse and 
 foot. Lacy was forced to give way. He, however, rallied 
 again, and re-possessed himself of the ground he bad lost; 
 but tbe enemy- still bringing up fresh troops- foiced him 
 to retire towards the gate, which tbe mayor of the town, as 
 itis said (apprehending that the English might come in, 
 pell-mell with them), imprudently shut against bis own peo- 
 ple, wherby the greatest part of them were cut to pieces.' 
 
 A capitulation was now openly discussed, which 
 was vehemently oppostd by Sarsfield; but a formal 
 resolution to surrender was put and carried in the 
 council of the French, and Sarsfield gave way. On 
 the 28th of August, the articles of surrender weie 
 negoiiated, and pursuant to its provisions, the Eng- 
 lish look possession of the town. Ten days afier 
 the treaty was executed, the French Squadron, com- 
 manded by Chateau Renaud, hove in sight. This fleet 
 consisted of five men-of-war, and eighteen ships of 
 burden, laden with stores, and ammunition, and when 
 too late, showed what might have been effected, but 
 for the fatal precipitancy of resolves, prompted by 
 personal interests and animosities. The arrival of 
 this squadron a few days sooner would have saved the 
 town, prolonged the war anolhcr year, called forth all 
 ihe energies of the nation, and disciplined the valor of 
 the natives. 
 
 Notwi hstanding the defeat of the Irish, Sarsfield 
 negotiated one of the most liberal treaties ever con- 
 ceded to a defeated army. The garrison was allowed 
 to evacuate the town with all the honors of war, and 
 freedom of conscience was guaranteed to the Catholics 
 of the hind. Tbe troops had, however, scarcely left 
 their native shores to lake service in France, when the 
 treaty was most shamefully violated, and the penal 
 law.s enacted against the Catholics, enforced with all 
 the rigor and blood tliirstiness of their early authors. 
 
T4 
 
 UUSU MISCELLANY. 
 
 laTEBATORE. < 
 
 Fraiu IIk' Uodtrii lirvnluiloiiitry llisinn- mid Litcrntiirv 
 
 ul' JrvluiiH, by Jubii Suvii;;i\ 
 
 Tin: WKXFOKl) CAMTAIGN'. 
 
 Tlic bold, brief, hrillinnt and bloody stngclo, thro' 
 tho hisioriail moniimoiits of wliose elooni iiiul (;lory, 
 1 slmll now WiindtT witli you, was as rtimirkiililf nnd 
 uncxpcitod ill '98, as il is friiu^lit wiili a tlirillini; in- 
 teivjt ami manifold adinonitioiiii fur us to-diir. 
 
 If the issuo was not sucoossfiil, noitlier was it dis- 
 honorable ; and we can aflord to let that ghastly, lilood- 
 spattcrtd past speak to us without shame. Though it 
 may accuse our nice from its Wexford graves and 
 scatVolds of many excesses and errors, they were the 
 excesses of success, the errors of revenge. It may ac- 
 cuse us of willfiilnes,s and bigotry ; they were, if not 
 the natural, the expedient weapons to meet willfulness 
 and bigotry. They were the resources of the day — 
 the drea<lfiil weapons alouc wiihin griLsp when the in- 
 surgents considereil every Protestant a tyrant ; when 
 I'rotestants proclaimed every Catholic a rebel ; when 
 reason wm banished, mercy denounced, and the recip- 
 rocal thirst for blood insaiiable.* These it may ac- 
 cuse that struggle with, but it cannot accuse it of cow- 
 ardice. 
 
 Looming as tlie spectre docs from Mount Lcinster 
 to Duncaniion, it still hears mournfully impassioned 
 tales of Oulart and Ross, of Knniscorthy and Vine- 
 gar Hill, of Gorcy and Tulilierneering. The Buitow, 
 the Slaney, and the N'ore hnve paid unceasingly their 
 tribute to the ocean, but they have not washed awny 
 the heroic memories so impetuously written on their 
 banks. Half a century of summers brought fruit and 
 flowers and wealthy vegetation there ; and half a cen- 
 tury of winters, like the ghostly bridegroom of tho 
 German tale, disrobed the tnistfiil, loving earth of all 
 her flowery garments, uiid wrapped her in the icy folds 
 of death. 
 
 Summer and winter — the fruits and flowers of the 
 one, and the snows and the storms of the other, are 
 alike transitory. Tliey came and have gone ; but that 
 which comes and goes not, the memory of the brave 
 and just is richer than the luxuriance of June and 
 stronger than the winds of December. The spectre 
 of that year still rears its war-worn front, ehivahic 
 though haggard, gashed and bleeding above those hills 
 and plains, above those old towns and towers 
 
 The cause which produced it may be questioned by 
 some ; but the courage %vbich su[>portcd it never by 
 any. 
 
 If the end of the Wexford slnigglc was not attained, 
 the means then taken still live glorious with examples 
 of devotion, courage, and fortitude, from which the 
 Irish nationalist of to-day may jirolitubly take hope 
 and warning. 
 
 The rising of Wexford was unexpected in '98. It 
 was not included in the programme of organization 
 formed in Dublin. There was no preconcerted ar- 
 rangement with any other county. On the arrest of 
 the delegates of L'niicd Inshmen, at Oliver Bond's on 
 the 12ch March, 1798, it was neither represented by a 
 delejiate, nor by letter. The celebrated William Put- 
 nam McCabe, made an attempt to organize the Coun- 
 ty Wexford, and though he considered it among the 
 boldest of bis many bold eflbrts, he had but little suc- 
 cess, and from the apathy of the people, a systematic 
 organization, uniler the auspices of the United Irish- 
 men, was thought fruitless. 
 
 The people of Wexford, descended in part from the 
 English adventurei-s furni.>,hed to Derinod .Mc.Murrogh 
 by Henry the second, with an admixture of the Croin- 
 'wcllian plunderers of a later period, and a more re- 
 mote sprinkling of the blood of Dane and Gael, were 
 ever considered a brave race, but lived within them- 
 selves, took little notice of outside agitation, and had 
 for many years attained a character for peace and ))ro- 
 bity, which was held out for the example and emula- 
 tion of other parts of Ireland. 
 
 • liarringtoir; Ki«; and Fall, page JJT. 
 
 iFrom the industry of the inhabitants, thiir pciieoa- 
 bic nature, the absence of rioting, and the good rcjiu- 
 taiion of the county in all ivspects. Hay slates that 
 I " landi'd property was considered of higher value in it 
 ! than in iiiany other parts of the Island. An execu- 
 tion for a capital crime raitly took place there ; and in 
 j the calendar of its criminals, it has us few on record as 
 1 any part of f ither Great Britain or Ireland."* Yet 
 with all its mnbition to show an example of industry 
 ' and peace to the country, Wexford was also ambitious 
 to be the most intolerant. And while throughout the 
 land, the ranks of the Volunteers were sundering those 
 bigoted feelings and antipathies springing from the 
 fears of Catholic or Protestant ascendency — while in 
 those ranks Catholic and Protestant soldiers felt each 
 ; other a necessity for the preservation of both ; the 
 Volunteers of Wexford willfully abused the privileges 
 and purposes of the organization — created a faction of 
 the intended nationality, and sowed that seed from 
 which sprung the iiiliuman fruit at Camew and Sculla- 
 bogne — in a word, the Wexford Volunteers excluded 
 all Catholics from their ranks, and it was the only 
 county in Ireland where intolerance completely usnrji- 
 ed the garb and functions of religion in a manner so 
 narrow-minded and unmanly. 
 
 For some time peace and industry continued to hold 
 the Wexford peasant ; but from the year 1792 when 
 the Catholics held meetings, and by private document 
 and public jietiiion, agitated the question of their 
 rights — from this year to that in which the rebellion 
 broke out, various portions of the County Wexford 
 were prominent in this agitation, and in that referring 
 to the tithe-paying, occasionally a disturbance occur- 
 red between the people and militia or soldiery, on a 
 few occasions being attended with loss ol life. 
 
 On the 30lh of March, 1798, all Ireland was put un- 
 der martial law and oHicially proclaimed in a state 
 of rebellion, by Lord Camden. 
 
 To this proclamation and the appearance of the 
 North Cork Militia, commanded by Lord Kingslior- 
 ough'in Wexford, may justly be attributed the insur- 
 rection in that county. Up to this period the society 
 of United Irishmen had made but little progress in 
 Wexford ; neither had Orangeism on the other hand I 
 any ostensible being, until the North Cork, among j 
 whom were many indefatigable propagandists of the \ 
 Orange system, set about proselytizing and swearing 
 in the Protestants whose minds were easily inflamed, 
 and who, being backed by the military soon 0])enly cn- 
 doiscd and aided the persecutions perpetrated in the 
 name of faith and justice against the peasantrv. 
 
 The proclamation of the Lord Lieutenant incited 
 the military to suppress in the most summary manner 
 all attempts at riot or disturbance. Thus empower- 
 ed, these lawless ruffians went about the country incit- 
 ing and swearing one portion of it into utter hostility 
 to the other, creating fends for the sake of punishing 
 individuiils ; and involving individuals that whole dis- 
 tricts might be plundered. 
 
 Their enemies thus banded together as Orangemen, 
 yeomen, miliiin-men, the peasantry had no resource 
 but in the organization of the United Irishmen ; and 
 although the persecution and intimidation under which 
 tho Catholic peasant and liberal Protestant then 
 suffered, gave some slight impetus to the United Irish 
 system in Wexford, still, it never was as extensive as 
 it should have been, nor at all in comparison with the 
 devclopement attained in other counties. It is no 
 doubt but that when hostilities commenced the self- 
 protective necessities of the people drove them under 
 the banner of the republican Union, but who may not 
 imagine a glorious and successful issue had tho organ- 
 ization been perfected before the people were crushed 
 and tortured into self-dffence. Who, on reading the 
 history of the lime, and beholding what was accom- 
 plished under such adverse circumstances, might not 
 reasonably feel the deep loss which the want of earlier 
 concert upon a divine principle of liberty entailed. 
 There was no preconcert no arrangement, no organ- 
 
 Tho iohnman tortures instituted by tho yeomen, tho 
 barbarities inflicted without regard to age or sex, tho 
 sconrgings, pitch-caps, hou.se-bumiiigs, and miirderii, 
 then drew a distinct and bloody line between those 
 who acted for, and under the protection of the govern- 
 ment and tho people. No man was safe, no woman 
 inviolable, private pique found Tent in public ven- 
 geance : and the magistracy fulling into the hands of 
 Orange faclionists, was at once witness, judge, jury, 
 and executioner. 
 
 On the trt'cniy-fifib of April, twenty-seven magis- 
 trates met at Gorcy, and two days after, Wexford 
 was proclaimed, the more fully to legalize their on- 
 slaughts on the people. Under the pretext of putting 
 down rebellion, anri with fresh powers voted to them- 
 selves all persons suspected of laing L'nited Irishmen 
 and all houses supposod to shelter pikes were submit- 
 ted to the rack and the tbinie. 
 
 In this t'oray against life and property every Catho- 
 lic was suspected, his bouse jilundcn d, and his family 
 hunted to the ditches and woods for shelter, which fact 
 was in turn i)ointcd against the man, family and lioiise 
 as conclusive evidence that all together were in con- 
 spiracy against the state. Men were hanged at their 
 own doors until nearly dead, and were then resuscita- 
 ted only to be hanged up again. Wet gunpowder was 
 rubbed into the heads of some, and ignited when dry; 
 the heads of others were smeared and saturated with 
 boiling pitch ; ears, noses, and other limbs were cut 
 ofT or maimed, and under such tortures numbers of 
 innocent and harmless men were forced during tho 
 wenkne.ss and insanity thus induced, to make confes- 
 sions of what they did not know, and acquiesce in all 
 that the violence or invention of their torturers dic- 
 tated. 
 
 Thus was the whole county in a state of disruption, 
 and especially in the districts of Ross, Enniscortliy and 
 Gorey. The most innocent people were fearful of pre- 
 senting themselves in pu!>lic, not knowing where a pri- 
 vate enemy might step forward, armed with his badge 
 of Orangeism, or in a militia uniform, to denounce, ar- 
 raign, torture or mnrder him. Conscijuintly business 
 was at a stand still ; the markets were unprovided with 
 food, provisions rose in price, the people suffered and 
 the military seeking supplies for themselves, only found 
 another medium to carry out the design of Pitt and 
 Castlereagh — to drive the country into rebellion that 
 a pretext might be made for their completely accom- 
 plishing the ruin of the remains of the so-called Irish 
 Legislative Independence, and the union of Ireland to 
 England. What with fiee quarters, slow tortures and 
 all their attendant hoiTors, the people were driven to 
 madness. 
 
 General Abercrombie, who was sent to Ireland as 
 commander-in-chief, after a tour of observation, se- 
 verely reprobated the military, and filling to impress 
 on the ministers the necessity of a mild government in 
 Ireland, as well us being unwilling to be a party to 
 their infamous plans, resigned his command in the 
 close of April. All the historians of the period, Pro- 
 testant as well as Catholic, with only one exception, 
 sustain the opinion of Abercrombie, and trace all the 
 hellish barbarities of that unfjrtunate year to the ad- 
 ministration. 
 
 That exception was Sir Richard Musgravc, who, in 
 his history, gives us a defence of torture, and who, 
 on one occasion, when, being high sheriff of the coun- 
 ty Wattrford, he foiled to procure an executioner to 
 whip a white-boy. performed the ollice himself, as Dr. 
 Madden adds, " with all the zeal of an amateur per- 
 former." 
 
 [COXCLDDED t!» DDK NEXT.] 
 
 A worthy clergyman, upon being asktd why he did 
 not venture loan election, at which the proceedings 
 were very riotously conducted, and give his vote, re- 
 plied — I do not see why I should endanger my own 
 poll to bemflt another man's.' 
 
 ization. 
 •ilisto 
 
 'Mother,' said n little-built urchin, about five years 
 I old, ' why don't the teacher make me monitor some- 
 of the Irish lusurrcction. By Ed. Hay. r. 01- I times ! I can lick every boy in my class but one.' 
 
 i 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 75 
 
 A TOUR IN THE SOUTH-'WEST. 
 
 NO. II. 
 
 LETTER TO JOHN MARTIN, ESQ. — PARIS- 
 
 ViCKSDUKG, Jim. 21, 1858. 
 I wiiitcii nt Memphis one day longer tban my intcution 
 tor the arrival of the ' Eclipse,' gruntlost and most luxuri- 
 ous of Mississppi steamboats; for when you are travelling on 
 the i-iver you may as well see all its institutions at their 
 best- And it is a floating palace, this Eclipse, a palace rad- 
 iant with gilding, crystal, Turkey carpets and stained glass, 
 but holding in its bowels a monstrous, high-press lire steam- 
 demon. The Eclipse, however, did not come : the financial 
 crisis has ellipsed her; monetary pressure has oppressed her; 
 and she lies somewhere under seizure. Her steam-whistle 
 bellows no more; the roaring lungs of her high-pressure 
 steam-familiar have collapsed; her gilded cornices grow 
 dim: the spider hath wove his web in the imperial palace: 
 and the owl hath sung her watch song on the towers of Af- 
 rasiab — that is on the smoke pipes ot the Eclipse. 
 
 English travellers arc sometimes in the habit of condemn- 
 ing or ridienling the splendor and luxury of these Mississip- 
 pi steamboats. It is because there is not in England, or in 
 iili Europe, so delightful a mode of locomotion ; and as for 
 the expense, so long as tliey carry you eight hundred miles 
 for tilteen or sixteen dollars what is }'Our gievance? Do 
 gilded mouldings in themselver offend the purity of your 
 taste? or is icedSauterne at dinner disgusting? Under a 
 crystal chandelier, at a marble table, on velvet-cushioned 
 chairs, behold! men witli their hats on, playing euchre. Is 
 tliisa stumbling-block to you? would it be better if they 
 played, as in old times of the River in a dingy cabin, on a 
 deal table, and seated on the heads of barrels? — let a dis- 
 cerning rublicjudge. 
 
 By the non-appearance of the calculated Eclipse I am 
 forced to set sail iu another vessel, much smaller and less 
 pretentious, but still handsome and comfortable. The ' Kel- 
 ler troupe * are on board, with all the living and dead stock 
 and material of their /aWm".r, bound for Kew Orleans. Kel- 
 ler is a Tole, an artist, and a diligent provider of public 
 amusement; wherefore is he dearly prized both up and 
 down the Mississippi. His tableaux are presentations in real 
 flesh and blood of certain celebrated pictures; the Ascent 
 to Calvary' the Descent from the Cross, and the like. It 
 seems they were condennied and tabooed in New York, as 
 irreverent; but in Boston most liberally patronized and 
 warmly admired ; which causes Mr. Keller to say that Boston 
 is the most truly intellectual city. 
 
 he swings about without his coat, for the day is h ot though 
 in January ; and ho politely details to us all the advantages 
 of making a settlement in his 'section of country.' As lor 
 health, he says, there is not a more wholesome spot in all 
 creation; and refers us to a large building — the only thing 
 deserving the name of building in the village, which he says 
 is the Marine Hospital. "Wo proceed to the Marine Hospi- 
 tal ; are politely shown over it by the resident surgeon ; and 
 he assures us that Napoleon is the most healthy spot on the 
 river; his jjatients being mostly men wounded by gunshot 
 wounds in the numerous ' difliculties which unhappily oc- 
 cur. Twenty-tive such cases he treated snccessl'nlly last 
 year; and when to this we add the persons shot dead on the 
 spot (and so past hospital treatment) and the trifling wounds 
 and mised shots, we can form some conjecture of the 
 amount of quarreling in that little town of two hundred 
 people, and on the boats which stop there. But all this de- 
 tractsiu no way from the general healthiuess of the re- 
 gion. 
 
 Gloomy and inpenetrable as the wilderness seems through 
 which the Arkansas makes its way to the Mississippi, we 
 learn that a few miles back its banks are covered with large 
 and valuable plantations, and are highly improved. In fact 
 wild and untamed as the banks of the Mississippi are be- 
 tween Memphis and this point, there seems no doubt that i 
 is all capable of being made to blossom like the rose. The 
 black alluvial soil, wherever cleared, is most productive in 
 cotton; and as clearing and cultivation proceed on the up- 
 I per water.s of the river, high floods grow less frequent and 
 formidable. The rapid growth and rapid decay of these 
 vast forests ot Cottonwood also must be gradually consoli- 
 dating the soil; so that the swamp must in time become 
 drier, and be encroached upon by firm land. In short, this 
 Mississippi valley is but in its infancy, both physically and 
 morally— but what a giant infant! 
 
 Hitherto we have passed but few settlements on the banks, 
 some of them wide and well-cultivated plantations, where 
 we stop to take in cotton-bales. Other stoppages are made 
 for wood to supply our fires — mostly pine where it can be 
 had, but in its absence cotton-wood, which, though very 
 light and soon consumed, burns very well. 
 
 The day after weleave 3Iemphis, we see nothing on either 
 side but thick forestsof cottonwood, in its various stages of 
 growth, makingimmense trees in some places, in others a 
 young brushy copi^ewood, where the river in its continual 
 changes of channel has lately left a new bank high and dry 
 cutting away a few hundred acres from the opposite side, 
 which ' sinks with all its pines,' and goes to form an island 
 somewhere lower down. In this way, and by the continual 
 descent of sand and clay which the river has in suspension, 
 one may conjecture, and lose himself in conjecturing, what 
 quantity of solid earth must yearly be deposited in the Gulf 
 of Mexico, forming thatlongmuzzle, nozzle or snout which 
 yon may find on the map. "Whether Cuba has truly been 
 made up of Mississippi washings, and is therefore United 
 States Territory already— as some South Western natural 
 philsophers contend. I do not on the present occasion ven- 
 ture to decide. There is much to be said on this side of the 
 question, though Captain General Concha urges on be- 
 half of the opposite theory arguments not to be despised. 
 Second morning from Memphis. A grey mist over the 
 river: and looming through it here and there, the tall black 
 cotton-trees. Af^er breakfast, when the sun has dispersed 
 the mist, we see ahead of us on the Arkansas side, a cluster 
 of white houses, and several steamboats at the levee. It is 
 the village of Napoleon, just on the point formed by the 
 confluence of the Arkansas) with the Mississippi. A large 
 Arkansas steamboat comes sweeping out on the full swollen 
 stream just as we approach. We have a glimpse up the river 
 for a moment, extending not more than half a mile. Eye 
 hath not seen a sight more dreary; the river dark and swol- 
 len, rolls sullenly between high wallsofblack leaflessforest: 
 and on the point, defended from inundation by a little dyke 
 or levee three or four feet high, cluster the handful of rude ' 
 and din^'y shanties called Napoleon. Here travellers com- 
 ing up or down, drink and gamble as they wait for a boat 
 up the Arkansas; and the intercourse of society is much 
 varied by pistol-shots. As we are to delay a while at Ka 
 poleon, taking in wood, putting out freight, &c., we go 
 ashore Wfth a couple of fellow-tjavellers, to see the nature 
 and conditions of the place. Fever and chill seem to keep 
 watch upon theshore; cholera, and all the agues quartan 
 and tertian, and all the fever.s, from slowest typhoyd to gal- 
 loping yellow, hover in the air. It is now, indeed, the 
 depth of winter; but as I go ashore I entertain no doubt 
 that in summer, all the people either fly or die. 
 
 Now this is all a mistake. Instead of shaking and quak- 
 ing patients of greenish hue, we meet with bronzed and 
 burly men. Colonel Ebenezer Cowliide keeps a public- 
 house. The Colonel's pantaloons are thrust inside his boots ; 
 
 On the whole, from all these conversations, I conceived 
 the impression that these prudent and intellgent planters 
 were all, at bottom, of my mind; but that they maiutained 
 a show of argument or objection for the purpose of draw- 
 ing out all I had to say. Yon may wonder at my zeal, not 
 to call it presumption, in lecturing Southern planters 
 upon what is so emphatically their own affair But they 
 are very liberal and affable; and have conceived, moreover, 
 that I cherish, for some reason or other, a most unfeigned 
 preferance for Southern life. They are right; though posi- 
 bley, they do not fully appreciate all my reasons and se- 
 cret motives. I will confide them to you. 
 
 In the first place, that Northern sentiment which pre- 
 tends to be scandalized at the South, is British senti- 
 ment. 
 
 Next; sentiment apart, the antagonistic interests of the 
 two sections are substantially the same as the opposing in- 
 terests of England and Ireland. The North is England ; the 
 South is Ireland. The one is the commercial, manufactur- 
 ing, maritine and money-broking power— the other repre- 
 sents mainly, agriculture. England has striven long and 
 hard to make the industry of Ireland subservient to herself 
 — that she may have the use of Irish produce, the turning 
 and the spending of Irish money, and she has fully (I trust 
 not finally) succeeded. So the Northern States have been 
 laboring to reduce the Southern States from States to pro- 
 vinces—with what success it is already frightful to contem- 
 plate. New York is our factor, our bank, our shipping 
 agent, our fac-totum. Differantial duties compel us to take 
 Massachusetts manufactures, and there is even a great and 
 increasing absaitee-drain from the South to the North. 
 Nortiiern 'literature,' beingcheap and vile, is lorced into 
 all our houses: and men of enterprise and of genius at the 
 South go North for their career and their reward. You 
 perceive that I am narrating in part, the history of Ireland. 
 But moreover, I recognise a corresponding difference in 
 the national character of the two sections. The North is 
 more English; the South more Irish. The actual descent 
 and affinity of the Southern population is in far the greater 
 part Irish, French, Welsh, Spanish— in any case Celtic. Per- 
 haps Southerners would be but little obliged to me (seeing 
 they are crammed with Anglo Saxon ' literature,*) for this 
 averment. Nevei-fheless it is a compliment. The Celtic is 
 the superior breed ; of finer organization, more fiery brain, 
 more passionate heart — less greedy, grabbing, griping and 
 grovelling. The greatest nations that modern Europe has 
 yet seen— greatest in every sense— have been France and 
 Spain ; Celtic both. Yet, the Celt has in one instance, one 
 only, yielded and sunk before another race. What then? 
 Did not Greece submit to Kome? And which of those two 
 bred the finest specimens of our^f;iJM? 
 
 You have seen a country usurer- one of tho.se creatures 
 who possess a single talent and no other— ilie talent of mak- 
 ing money. He has no religion, but is a church-member; 
 no taste for reading, but he buys into his interest the news- 
 paper of the neighborhood. All men hate and bcorn him, 
 
 but speak well of him. He has no appetite for pleasure, but 
 can speculate on the pleasures of others, and turn all folly 
 to i)rofit. You have seen him gaiu power, substantial power 
 over many of his neighbors, each of whom is greatly his su- 
 perior in all human qualities, eave one. Each of them de- 
 spises him, but feai-8 him— for why, their crops as they grow, 
 their herds and flocks on the pastures, are more his than 
 their's. They all owe him money ; yet strange to say, they 
 all feel that he has drawn more from them than they from 
 him— that he lives upon them, but that they are dying of 
 him. This yoke they never will shake off. Some of them go 
 into the work-house; some emigrate and become naryi'fj,' 
 their children are beggared, their hearth-stones are desolate ; 
 but /ic— he goes along the even tenor of his way in peace 
 and honor, and liis praise is in all the churches. 
 
 This is the species of power and predominance that En- 
 gland has established over Ireland— and that the North is 
 hastening to establish over the South. You are to observe 
 that the acquisition of such power does not argue supei'ior 
 force, nor superior genius or courage, but only greater cun- 
 ning and more remorseless and unsleeping greediness. In 
 force and courage there ia something respectable; but in 
 fraud and cunning, nothing. 
 
 In race then, being Celtic; in pursuits, agricultural; in 
 temperament, pleasure-living, hospitable and indolent; in 
 position, defensive against the commercial spirit of the age 
 — the South is a new Ireland; her rival another England. — 
 Can you wonder that I am a Southerner? 
 
 All this I ponder as I float along the Mississippi; until at 
 last the vast eddying Kiver, with its fringe of cotton-wood, 
 melts away from my sight. I am sitting on the edge of the 
 cliffs at Horn Head. There, far below heaves the green sea 
 rolling in with an unbroken swing from Iceland. Behind 
 me stretches old Ireland, lying in a painful unrest, and 
 moaning in her dreams; for a moaning wind sweeps down 
 upon us from Arigal, through the glens of Gortahork; and 
 the two eagles are wheeling high aloft, following the crim- 
 son sunset "with a clangorous cry of wrath and lamen- 
 tation." 
 
 There's the bluff of Vicksburg! says an acquaintance at 
 my side. You see the steeple. We shall be in time for din- 
 ner at the Prentiss House: and in the meantime what sa)' 
 you to a cocktail? j. m. 
 
 COERSSPOJMDENCEi 
 
 East Boston, Feb. 25th, 1858. 
 Editor of the Irish Wiscellnny : — 
 
 Presuming it but right to reach the hand of encour- 
 agement to a new aspirant for public favor, especially 
 one which comes to us full of promises of such a feast 
 from history and legend of the oiden land of our na- 
 iivi:y, enriching again our memories with the joys and 
 sorrows of the past, (what atliingis memory?) car- 
 ried back to the green hill-side of boyhood's early day, 
 methinks I am climbing the old dry clad towers of 
 other and remoter times, or down at evening amongst 
 the ruins of our old monaster}', watching the .sun set- 
 ting in a golden west, hallowing the spot which speaks 
 to us of holy and devoted men, and the time when 
 kings laid down the crown and sceptre, and by lives 
 devoted to God, prepared to enter an Eterniiy in 
 heaven. When from the centre all round to the sea was 
 heard the matin and the vesper bell; when kings from 
 foreign lands came to learn wisdom and religion in 
 the 'emerald ^em of ocean ;' when Ireland knew noth- 
 ing of the Dane or the Norman, hut peace and pros- 
 perity reigned within ; when yet the Saxun had not 
 sown dissention, bigotry and hate ; when the Irish lived 
 for Ireland, and Erin's light and wisdom and sanciity 
 went forth to the nations yet in darkness around 
 them ; but this love for home with its fond associa- 
 ciations, enchantments, and retrospections — appen- 
 dages of every Irish heart — must not lead me from 
 the few topics upon which 1 intend to write. 
 
 I hope you will not be afraid to give us a little 
 political matter, and I may as well tell you how we 
 feel in tiiis Island ward. Politics being absorbed, 
 swallowed up in Kansas, come right to that question, 
 and I say by all means admit it, as per Lecompton 
 Constitution. Some will say this is forcing a thing 
 down the people's throats, the majoriiy of whom could 
 not pass upon it, and that they will have slavery in 
 the state. Now allow me to ask, are not those people 
 in a majority ? If so, why did they not vote against 
 the slavery clause ? or, ' Constitution without slav- 
 ery ?* Tiiey are in the majority, and did not vote, 
 therefore, slavery ia there because they did not per- 
 form their duty to freedom. If admitted by Congress, 
 
76 
 
 llMSll MISCELLANY. 
 
 cannot the majority immediately clmnpo the slavery 
 clause in lliiil iiistriinunt > AVe say, ilociik'dly, Yes, 
 tlierc mu-.i bo uo clause to prevent iliis. Senator 
 WiUon allows the people can do so, and Congress 
 will hare done with the whole atVair; thus, then, thero 
 is nothing to auiintc ahoul, and if there is, 'lis the 
 fault of those who iliil no' vole. No one will deny 
 that it was iliu black ri'pnblicnn panics' intention to 
 li"itate and <)uarrcl upon every clause in this constim- 
 tion, alihiiu'ih anj;els had made it, such luin); iheir 
 only political capital or stock in trade forlStiO; this 
 the numbers of the convention knew and thought bet- 
 ter to send to Congress lliiin have two more years of 
 ' Kansas blec<ling,' and now the consiitulion of Kansas 
 is prcsentetl for congressional acceptance, by the presi- 
 dent of the conslilntional convention of Kansas — the 
 oxecutivo has nothing left him but to present it ; it is his 
 du'V. 'As in ihe call for this convention, and in its 
 election, everything was legal — who then, we ask, can 
 interfere in its action. Nor has Congress the power to 
 remand Kansas to a Territorial condition, she being an 
 independent sovereign state, by consent of Congress 
 outside the Union," 
 
 For our part wo believe in the most sterling princi- 
 ples of Demornicy, and we sec no principle violated — 
 no expediency resorted to in its admission It has 
 been a vexed question ; too much has been said about 
 it by the President, by Walker, and others, it ought 
 not have occupied public mind, nor the exclusive time 
 of Congress ; murh less is it right, that it should loosen 
 the bond of hannony in the Democratic party — upon 
 whose unity of action, and ihc success of whose princi- 
 ples, we believe the prosperity of the country depends. 
 Keep up the Kansas turmoil, and elect through that 
 means a black Republican President in 1860, and you 
 who aid in the movement will have time to repent at 
 leisure. Not indeed that we have any fear that the 
 African or Indian races would outstrip the white man 
 in the higher walks, or attainments of life, or fill the 
 public oflices to the exclusion of white men ; nor yet 
 that Fremont, Seward or Banks, (if the successful as- 
 pirants) would be impeached for a violation of the con- 
 stiiution. No, we look for no such trouble ; there 
 would be enough in ihe want of confidence in one gov- 
 ernment that must inevitably follow — the South would 
 be more and more estranged from the North, our coun- 
 try would present a decided front to the jealous aristo- 
 cratic governments of Europe, and such is the position 
 sought for by them : it would be a step in the direction 
 in which lies all the hopes of the enemies of free gov- 
 ernment, of democratic princii)les, of our countries pros- 
 perity and progress. We, the adopted citizen portion 
 of the Democracy have no small account to settle with 
 the Democratic party, which we promise we will at- 
 tend to at a future time, not now; we have no inten- 
 tion of introducing self at a time when every friend of 
 the Administration, and ot the party should pull har- 
 moniously together. Admit Kansas then, let not our 
 enemies have any thing lo rejoice over ; Congress has 
 other and important business to attend to. The 
 Democracy are aware that their division gives the 
 enemy the only hope or chance of success ; let them 
 remember the President's patriotic words : — 
 
 ' I have thus performed my duty in this important 
 qucsiion under a deep sense of my responsibility to 
 God and my country. 
 
 ' My public life will terminate in a brief period, and 
 I have no o her object of earibly ambition, than to 
 leave my country in a prosperous condition, and to 
 live in the art'cctions and respect of my countrymen.' 
 
 This is not the language of nn enemy. L<ave then 
 the task of denouncing our patriotic chief magistrate 
 to the disunionist, the factionist, the traitor ; close up 
 the ranks of the Democraiic party; principles founded 
 in truth, upon which depend the hopes and proud 
 destiny of our nation — of other nations, devolve upon 
 you. Freedom is only preserved by ciemal vigilance, j 
 and that the vigilance of the Democratic party. I 
 
 I had not thought to have said so much upon Kan- 
 sas ; allow me now to allude to a lecture delivered 
 by the Hon. Caleb Cashing, before the young Demoe- ' 
 racy Feb. 12th. Subject— The Mexican Kepublic. I 
 This lecture was a splendid eirorl, and another of the 
 
 Hon. gentlemnn's reproofs (o the fanaticism of Mna- 
 sachusctls of the present day. Those wlio attribute 
 iho misforlunis of Mexcio to the Catholic clergy, 
 must feel all ground taken from them. I cannot re- 
 (lisi a passage or two — the first one a benediction of 
 the Cuiholic clergy, the second on mixed races. 
 
 ' A most erroneons idea exists in the United Slates 
 thai the troubles in Mexico are attributable to the 
 eflbrts of the clergy to preserve their priiperty from 
 confiscation. It is true they do struggle for this. 
 What clergy of any country, Caiholic or Proiesianl. 
 would nol ! Wuuld ihe Protestants of the United 
 States be content that all their funds of education, 
 religion, and charity should be seized upon by des- 
 perate laciions, and tiiut their churches and hospi- 
 tals should be turned into barracks and staliles for 
 the oceupiiiion of the soldiery of the <ontending 
 armies of chronic civil or servile war > Let any of 
 the great religious establishments of the Protestant 
 church in the United States, Episcopalian, Piesbv- 
 terian. Unitarian, Methodist, Baptist, consider how 
 they would feel, and what they would say, if we 
 IukI in the United States a new hair-breed Presi- 
 dent, or any other sort of a Prcsidmt, every twelve 
 or six months, and sometimes two or three in a 
 month, put in the White House by insurgent bands 
 of troops, without ])retence of constitutional right, 
 and betaking himself at once, as the means of satis- 
 fying his rapacious cohorts to the confiscation and 
 plunder of all the numerous pious funds for the sup- 
 port of colleges and churchrs which wo ourselvres 
 have in every State in the Union? I suppose that 
 would not be very agreeable to Protestants. I can- 
 not conceive how it could be imagined that the same 
 thing can be just or reasonable in the estimation ol 
 Catholics. But it is not for the defence of the prop- 
 erty of the churcli alone that the church in Mexico 
 contends. It is for the defence of all projjeiii/. wheiher 
 clerical or lay, against the reckless rapaeity of tlie 
 successive military factions which, one alter another, 
 waste and tear in pieces that once rich and prosperous 
 country of New Spain.' 
 
 This from a descendant of the Piiril.ins ought to be 
 evidence — one who saw and studied the country and 
 eminently capable of passing judgment. 
 
 Again, 
 
 ' On the day — if that dsy should ever come in these 
 United States, which exhibits the spectacle of Indiiins 
 and Africans being admitted to an impossible equ.ility 
 with white men, — on that day we not only commence 
 that series of disorders, revolutions, civil wars and de- 
 vastations which have made of Spanish America, of 
 Mexico, and the islands of the West Indies, — which 
 have not only made of them a spectacle of desolation 
 and mi-ery, hut which must make of us a similar 
 spectacle of desolation and misery, involving the 
 governors and the governed alike in the same destruc- 
 tion, — a destruction, which, when looked upon in con- 
 nection with other matters, might well seem to be the 
 vengeance of God upon the perverted passions of mis- 
 erable men.' 
 
 It certainly must be severe upon the sympathizers — 
 those who legi.ihito for tlie African, and agninst the 
 Celt, to receive the lash from the statesman, the schol- 
 ar and the solilier. 
 
 But, friend Miscrlkmi/, I have strayed licyond proper 
 limits. I merely started wi;h two dollars, wishing to 
 be placed upon the list of subscribers. I hope to see 
 the paper prosper, as I believe it will if care and at- 
 tention are given to it ; 'tis by no means perfect, al- 
 though very good for the commencement of such a 
 new and intcrrsling undertaking. \^ e have a very 
 numerous pojailation in this ward, and if properly 
 canvassed, you ought to have five hundred subscribers 
 here alone. I would make allusion to the Know 
 Nothing legislation at the State House, but having 
 trespassed already, I hope sincerely to hear of your 
 established prospcriiy, that our people will warmly 
 support such a national memorial, and feel a true in- 
 terest in a matter which comes so directly from home. 
 1 am yours sincerely, 
 
 FxiLE. 
 
 D;^ II must not be presumed that the insertion of 
 our estcemid correspondent's communicaiion is an 
 indorsement by us of his views on the Kansas difTi- 
 colly. He has a right to his opinions, and we shall 
 express our own in due time, if necessary. We in- 
 tend, however, to avoid these vexed queslions of parly 
 polities, except in such cases as involve the interests 
 of our own people. We have liitle faith in any mere 
 political parly. They all hate us with a cordial 
 hatred, and we fear the Democrats are as bad in this 
 respect as any other. — Ed. Mis. 
 
 OKIGINAL POETRY. 
 
 Written lor the llincvllany. 
 MV LADY LOVK. 
 
 B T D A U n Y M C K E O N . 
 
 llor hkin, than the snow-drop, ia Talrcr and wbiler, [ 
 
 lies clear, spurkliug eye Iljiiu llic Uiuuiuud is blighter; ' 
 
 Her li]i< art like rose-builK, » itb honey o'er ludcn, I 
 
 llor bieutli like the su cot bcvutod zephyrs of Ldcn. '. 
 
 llcr heart, true and pure, as the crystulinc fountain— ' 
 
 Her step light uutl free ns the deer of the inounluin — t 
 
 Her hruw calm and high — worldly vanity ecornfng; t 
 llor biuilc drops like dew, from the wiuga of the morning. 
 
 ■\Ve met by yon brook-side, at cIofo of Ihc oven, i 
 
 .*Jhe looked like nn nngel — her soft bosom heaving; \ 
 
 The sweet blooming flowers, pay robes did appear in, i 
 
 liut queen of them all was thiit daughter of Krin. ' 
 
 Like a fay or sonic peri from ether descended. 
 Round lior, innocence, virtue and beauty were blended, 
 And her raven locks flow so bewilchingly o'er her, 
 Tliut angels ndght hover around and adore her. 
 
 IS'o saint ever kneeling knew purer devotion 
 Than I when (irst feeling love'n fondest emotion; 
 No suppliant pleud more sincerely, ah! never, 
 Than I when imploring to bless mo forever. 
 
 She granted my suit, and wo shall be united, 
 
 M'heu the ' sunburst ' waves over our land long benighted, 
 
 When the faith and the shrines so long hau'ud by the 
 
 stranger. 
 .Shall triumphantly flourish, defiant of danger. 
 
 Theu up from each valley, (Vcm each mountain and 
 
 highland, 
 And rush on the .Snxon who plunders our Island ; 
 Let the cry sweep afar o'er Ihe hills loud as thunder. 
 The green up forayel and the red trcmpled under! 
 
 [ We publish the above, from a desire to encourage 
 the writer. The lines though iuiitutive in nniny respects, are 
 not without merit, and though evidently from a young be- 
 ginner, evince n degree of talent which if rightly cultivated, 
 may in time give the writer a 'place among men.' We 
 would, however, advise our contributor to thoroughly di- 
 gest some good work on prosody, which will be of immense 
 advantage to him. A good chitsical diclionar}' — Smith's, 
 for instance — would also give him an insight into various 
 cl.Tssical terms of which at present he seems to have rather 
 a meagre infoi-mation. We should bo pleaded to hear from 
 ' Darby ' again.— En. of Miscellaky. ] 
 
 AN O'NEIL WITHOUT AN O. 
 We have before us the Cork Herald and Southern 
 Counties General Advcriiser, for Saturday, Jan. 2.3d, 
 1858. 'Tis a new feature in newspaper literature in 
 the old country, nnil has an American appearance; — 
 light literary matter, and general, as well as local in- 
 formation, and all for two pence. We trust those ef- 
 forts for furnishing good reoding for the people may 
 be very successful, and that the (ditors will be thor- 
 oughly national. We cut the following from this num- 
 ber, as wo know the individual referred lo ; he is no 
 less than a younger brother of our well known patri- 
 otic friend. The Sergeant, although the republican 
 soldier is not ashamed of the 0, but rather glories in 
 being a descendant of those who troubled England by 
 ihcir love of country, and the hard knocks they gave 
 the enemy of fatherland : 
 
 'Rksciie from Dkownixo — We feel pleasure in 
 recording an act of manly and true philanlhrophy 
 which occuircd on last Saturday evening, the 16lh inst. 
 A boy of about ten years old fell into the river near 
 the statute, and struggled hard before sinking. Mr. 
 Wood, of 'I'homas street, who had b aped in, laid hold 
 of him, but becoming doubtful of his own safety, he 
 abimdoned ihctn'k. At ibi-. moment, a hundred voices 
 cried out, liny will both be lost ; when Mr, James 
 Neill, of Ihe Parade, came up, and seeing both strug- 
 gling, without waiting to undress, save his coat and 
 hat, leaped from the quay and succeeded in saving the 
 bov. Jlr. Wood, with difBculiy reached the slip. — 
 Wliat makes Mr. Neill's act truly praiseworthy is, 
 that we have since learned that he has seven children 
 of his own ; and we heard him assure a friend that he 
 had not been in the water for fomc twelve years 
 previous. Such is the art of swimming, and such the 
 persons we need in cases of emergency. We heartily 
 congratulate Mr. Neill on bis suc-ess, and were glad 
 to learn he has not sulTered from the effects of a Jan- 
 uary immersion.' 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 77 
 
 BOSTON. 
 
 Edwaud Yoonq and PATniOK Rilky, Esqr's., mem- 
 borsof the Legislature IVom Boston, linvc been conunissiion- 
 ©dby Gov. Banks as Justices of the I'euce lor theCouuty ol' 
 Suffolk. 
 
 John C. Crowley, Esq., has also received u commissiou 
 ol the Feace for the same County, from bis Excellency. 
 
 City Council, — This body met at the City Hall on Thurs- 
 day evening, the 4th inst., for the transaction ot its weekly 
 business. The question of a free City Hospital in ward 11, 
 was brought up and diseussed. Mr. John C. Tucker, moved 
 the appointment of a committee to consider the expediency 
 of locating the Hospilnl on the lands recently purchased by 
 the city fVom Father McElroy, commonly called the 'jail 
 lands.* Mr. Tucker supported his resolution in a spcecli of 
 more than half an hours duration, characterised by that 
 good common sense and vigorous thought for which he is 
 so remarkable. The jail lauds, he said had been sold to 
 Father MoElroy for 849,000. No soouer was it discovered 
 that a Catholic Church was to be erected thereon, than the 
 bigots of ward live got up a hue and cry against it. and pe- 
 titioned the city government to prevent its erection. The 
 city government had quailed before Hms intolerance and in- 
 sisted upon conditions which rendered the land ol no use 
 for the purpose for which it was bouglit. 
 
 The citizens oi ward 5, had no objection to a jail — no ob- 
 jection to an asylum for thieves and vagabonds, and mur- 
 derers in their ward, but they had every objection to a Cath- 
 olic being permitted to worship his God in a respectable 
 church in that ward. Kow the mere suggestion of building 
 a splendid Catholic church had made all the bigots sick, 
 one man who stood at their head and led them in the ways 
 of intolerance, liad since become insane. Now, surcl.v, a 
 hospital was wanted there ; and as the citizens of ward 11" 
 were opposed to the location of the hospital in their ward, 
 he had no doubt the residents of ward 5 would be glad to 
 have it. The city had, in obedience to the bigotry of ward 
 5 given Father McElroy SSO.OOO, for the jail lands, which 
 were sold to him for 849,000. Now as a matter of economy 
 it was important to build the hospital on these lands, as the 
 city had paid ^31,000, in order to appease the bigotry of 
 this intolerant ward. The situation was central, airy and 
 well adapted for the purpose, and be hoped the unsightly 
 buildings of the old jail would be converted into a free hos- 
 pital for the poor. 
 
 Mr. Tucker then commented upon the conduct of the city 
 authorities in purchasing the Lying-in Hospital at a cost of 
 S45,000, and said it was done to prevent the Sisters of Char- 
 ity from becoming its owners, as they intended to convert 
 it into a hospital for the poor of all denominations without 
 taxing the citizens for its support. The church which ward 
 5 relused to have, would now be erected in -ward 11, the 
 most wealthy and respectable ward in the city. It would be 
 built of white marble, and be more than two hundred feet 
 long by eighty-eight feet wide, and be an ornament to the 
 city. Ward 11 preferred the church and the college to be 
 connected with it ; let ward 5 by all means have the iiospi- 
 tal. 
 
 Mr. Tucker finally withdrew his motion, but the matter 
 comes up again at the next meeting. 
 
 Custom House Officials orderi?ig the Suspension 
 OK A Newspaper.— The Boston Daily Ledger having refu- 
 sed to endorse the Lecompton Constitution, twenty-one 
 Custom Hon.«e officials have ordered it stopped. The paper 
 will of course continue. 
 
 There is a volume in that last line. As if the deprivation 
 of tlieir influence, or the withdrawal of their assistance 
 would stop the Lfdg-r.' No indeed; thiit paper is in the 
 hands of the public— is appreciated, cherished and admired 
 by them, and tin.- loss of tue paltry subscription by twenty- 
 one would not make it> inthusiasm in the cause it has es- 
 poused less, ur its biilliaucy dim. 
 
 It is a low. grovelling, despicable trait ofcharacter,which 
 leads otherwi-e sensible men, to withdraw llitir patronage 
 and smiles from an organ because it f\>>v^ imi njiK-ent their 
 ideas. Let the prejudice that this ouiim' w <.iihi i ^Tablish, 
 be lollowed daily in all matters, and the piil-iir j.ress would 
 soon expire amid the diversity of opinion.— Full River Star 
 
 The Ledger -still lives,' despite this petty act of tyranny 
 on the part of the.=e twenty-one noodle heads. Which of 
 them wants promotion ? The fool that got the matter up 
 supposed the Ledger would publish his name, and thus give 
 him the notoriety he desired, that he might have a claim 
 upon the administration for promotion. He has, however, 
 been disappointed in his cunning calculation, and must re- 
 main where he is until kicked out for incompetency. What 
 dirty trick will these creatures next perform? We promise 
 them the Ledger will keep their account duly posted. 
 
 Large Catholic Church in Boston. — The car- 
 penter work for ilie new church of the ' Immaculate 
 Conception' and collcfie, to be erected at the corner of 
 Harrison avenue and Concord street, Boston, has been 
 taken by Messrs. Morrill and Wig-^lesworth, of this 
 city. The church is to l>e 201 feet by 88, and CG feet 
 in height to top of cornice. The college building is 
 90 by CO, four sturies in licijrht, and the library 40 by 
 23, three stories hiuh. Ariotlier building, 90 by 60, 
 to be used as a dwelling, will be connected with the 
 college by the library. The contract includes only 
 
 that portion of the work belonging to the walls of the 
 building, roof, floors, cornices and frames. It amounts 
 to about $25,000, and is to be completed by Decem- 
 ber, 1858. The stone work has been taken by a party 
 from Nashua. The entire btiiUlings occupy a square 
 containing upwards of 70,000 foet of land, and ai'e to 
 be costly and highly ornamented. We arc pleased to 
 learn that part of the work is to be performed by 
 iVewburyport mechanics, and particullarly as it has 
 fallen to such experienced builders as Messrs. Morrill 
 and Wiggle&worth, who have executed several large 
 contracts to general satisfaction. This job will give 
 employment to twenty-five or thirty hands during the 
 summer. Some dozen or more are now engaged in 
 this city in getting out window frames, &c. To give 
 some idea of the extent of the buildings, there is up- 
 wards of 500,000 feet of timber in the flooring and 
 roofiug. — IVewburyport Herald, 
 
 ST. PATRICK^S ATGHT. 
 
 We would call the attention of our friends and the public, 
 to the Concert announced by the St. Cecilia Choral Society, 
 on the night of the 17th inst. 
 
 This Society has for its aim the encouragement of a love 
 and taste for beautiful and classic music ; and to produce the 
 works of the great composers in a manner interior to none 
 of the musical societies now in existence. 
 
 The Society numbers about one hundred and twenty-five 
 members, connected with the different Catholic choirs of the 
 city, most of whom are endowed with great musical ability; 
 and whose improvement, under the care of a skillful teach- 
 er, has been all that the most sanguine could wish. 
 
 We have attended some of their rehearsals, and have been 
 pleased and highly gratified to notice the evident improv- 
 ment at each successive meeting. We would urge one and 
 all, to attend the Concert at the Tremont Temple, on the 
 seventeenth, and by their presence encourage so laudable 
 an undertaking.— success attend the Choral Society. 
 
 Iowa City, Feb. 22d, 1858- 
 Messrs. Editors. 
 
 Gentlemen :— I am gratified to learn that such a work as 
 the Irish Miscellany is in progress, and I have no doubt 
 that it will meet with the success it merits. Our people 
 want something that applies to the feelings, and such a want 
 I think is now supplied. 
 
 I should be glad to learn the conditions on which you can 
 supply it to clubs, as I am of opinion that we could raise a 
 good one here. I hope you will send me a few copies (if 
 you want a club raised) for distribution. 
 
 Enclosed you will find S2. 00, for which you will please 
 send me a copy, beginning with the first number, as I would 
 not willingly lose one. Address, David Lyons, Iowa City, 
 Iowa. 
 
 I am aware gentlemen, that the undertaking is immense; 
 but Avith sound heads and Irish hearts, I have no fears for 
 your success. Your humble servant, 
 
 David Lyons. 
 
 OUK PATRICK'S DAY NUMBER. 
 
 The next number of the Miscellany will be the richestnum- 
 ber which has yet appeared. It will contain several addi- 
 tional illustrations of Irish subjects, among which will be 
 beautiful engravings of the 'Cove of Cork;' ' Drowning the 
 Shamrock;' 'The Hedge School;' 'The Rural Dancing 
 Academy;' and other beautiful engravings, which we in- 
 tend as a commemoration of St. Patrick's Day. 
 
 In order to accomplish this, we have employed additional 
 artists at a largely increased outlay, and we must trust to 
 our patrons for a return. We shall go to press on Monday, 
 the 15th, so that our paper can be in the hands of our read- 
 ers in most places by the 17th. Let our agents send in their 
 orders as soon as possible. 
 
 ST. PATRICK'S DAY IN NEW YORK, 
 Will be celebrated with unusual ec/aJ. The civic and mil- 
 itary procession will be on a scale of great eplendor. The 
 Irish Benevolent Societies, with all the Irish military com- 
 panies will form a grand display well worth seeing. The 
 sight, however, shall not be lost to our readers, as we have 
 made arrangements for taking a photagraph of the proces- 
 sion, in some convenient part of the city, when brought to a 
 halt. We shall transfer this photagraph to our pages, and 
 present our readers the week after St. Patrick's day, with 
 an accurate engraving of the procession, together with faith- 
 ful portraits of the chief marshal's, and the various military 
 officers in command. A gentleman irom this olfice will 
 report hhnself at head quarters, the evening betbre the pro- 
 cession, and make such arrangements as will facilitate our 
 design. 
 
 We trust the chief mar.shars and military commandants 
 will co-operate with our representative, and give him all the 
 assistance they can. The photagraph will be taken on the 
 
 spot, and the engraving of it executed in the most perfect 
 manner. We shall print a large, extra edition of the num- 
 ber containing this engraving. Send in your orders forth- 
 with, if you wish to secure this beautitul number. 
 
 House of the Anokl Guaudian. — We have received 
 the 'Third Annual Report' of this very excellent institution, 
 by the Rev. George V. llaskins, the Rector; from "which wo 
 make the following extract: — 
 
 * The whole number of boys thathavebecn admitted 
 to the lostitution, since June 13, 1851, the day of its 
 opening, to January 1, 1858, is 909 
 
 Whole number of re-admissions, . , li27 
 
 Of these, there have been discharged, or 
 apprenticed, .... 
 
 Leaving in the House now, 
 
 l,ua6 
 
 Of the nine hundred aud nine boys that have been 
 received, six hundred and tliirty-four were orphan^, 
 having lost one or both parents, and a large number 
 of the remaining two hundred and seventy-five were 
 worse off, by far, and more to be commiserated, than 
 if they had been orphans. Nine-tenths of these boys 
 wore sent as stubborn, and unmanageable, or as tru- 
 ants; nearly one-half, as incorrigible. Ont-fifih weie 
 without a home, and ate and lodged as they could. 
 Nine hundied have been sent forth again into the 
 w^orld, to battle with its temptations and vices, and, in 
 most cases, to pursue a career of victories. 
 
 The policy hiiherro pursued by this institution has 
 been, and is, not to retain the boys any longer than is 
 absolutely necessary to provide them with the armor 
 that they need. Accordingly, as soon as they have 
 been instructed in the catechism, and received the sac- 
 raments of penance, confirmation, and communion, thev 
 are either provided with some u.'-eful occupaiiun or 
 trade under Catholic masters, or are recommended to 
 their parents or guardians as capable of stUVoniroi, or 
 else, if old enough, are allowed to go forth and seek 
 employment for themselves.' 
 
 We regret to find by other passages in the report, that the 
 laudable exertions of Father Haskins in behalf of the un- 
 fortunate class of boys for whose welfare he is doing so 
 much, are retarded for want of the necessary funds. 
 We hope to see this remedied early in summer, that this 
 good priest may have full scope in his pious undertaking. 
 He has already been an instrument in the Almighty's hands, 
 in saving hundreds of youtli from destruction, aud iu keep- 
 ing the grey hairs of their parents from going down with 
 sorrow to the grave. We wish him God speed in his hu- 
 mane and holy labors. 
 
 HADLEY PHILANTHROPY! 
 
 Philanthropy is beautifully illustrated in the case of a poor 
 Irish girl who was recently found in one of the streets of 
 New Haven, Connecticut, with a dead infant in her arms. 
 The case, as ascertained by thegirl'stestimony before a cor- 
 oner's jury, and recorded by the New Haven Register, is 
 briefly as follows:— 
 
 'The girl, Catherine Hickey. had been made a mother by 
 a voung man of Nonli Hadlev, who had been compelled to 
 a legal settlement, and she was sent to the almshouse with 
 her child. When it was four weeks old, she was taken from 
 the almshouse to Northampton, and forced into the cars 
 against her willj in charge of two men — during which, it is 
 probable the child (which was wrapped to her bosom iu an 
 old shawl,) was severelv injured— as it did not nurse after- 
 wards. On reaching ^ew Haven, she got out of the curs, 
 with her child, andhavingbut a penny in her pocket, bought 
 with it an apple, and crawling into 'some nook, spent the 
 night, and was found with her dead infant iu her arms, in 
 the morning.' 
 
 We cut the above from the 'Lawrence Sentinel.' What 
 an exemplification of true Benevolence ! of that charity 
 which should entertain strangers — which the founder of the 
 Christian Religion approved, when he said — 'I was a stran- 
 ger and ye took me in.' But is there no injustice in this trans- 
 action, is there not a violation of laws? and who are the 
 guilty parties in this tragic affair? hold them up to public 
 condemnation,— let them be whipped by public opinion ; Jet 
 not the land be cursed for such diabolical villany; let not 
 the smile of any true man's face rest upon them; let the good 
 of woman disown them. 
 
 Lecture by Father Rodda'n. — Tt will be seen 
 by an advertisement in another column, that a lecture 
 will be delivered in Sunday evening next, in the base- 
 ment of St. Vincent's Churcli, Purchase street, by the 
 Rev. J. T. Ko'ldan. Tlie proceeds of the lecture are 
 to be appropriated for the benefit of the Sunday 
 School connected with the above church, and the sub- 
 ject chosen for the occasion is the very interesting one 
 of * Joan of Arc' The ability of the reverend Lec- 
 turer — the charitable object in view, and the interest- 
 ing subject of the Lecture, should insure a large at- 
 tendance. 
 
7« 
 
 llilSIl MISCELLANY. 
 
 IBISH MINSTBEIiBT. 
 SERE N A D E . 
 
 ORIQIXAL IX THE Dl'BLIS PKXSY JOCHXAL. 
 
 The 0UU ImH set, 
 
 Dnv liUKvrs vet. 
 Till' r\-il-mui^ roso is weeping; 
 
 Auit lone AuU blill 
 
 UVr (lie (listiiut hill 
 The yellow moou ia pevpiug. 
 
 ■ Tiscnlra »8<lc!ith, 
 
 Save the bulmy breuth 
 Of the breeze u'er iiighi tluwei-s fitcaling; 
 
 While the Ktar of love 
 
 If! M.*en abuve 
 Thro' lleecy white cloude aailing. 
 
 IJut: Marian, dear, 
 
 Thy lover'rf near, 
 'Tii Ills guitar llmt'ti souiicliug; 
 
 To mark thine eye. 
 
 To hear the iiigh. 
 His heart with hope in bounding! 
 
 lint if in dreams 
 
 Thy lover seems 
 In raptures to adore thee. 
 
 Sleep. Marian, sleep. 
 
 Whilst I shall keep 
 My bileut vigils o'er theel 
 
 On thy pure breastj 
 
 Slay balmy rest 
 Fall, sweet as fairy numbers; 
 
 Marian, good night, 
 
 'Till morning's light 
 May angels guard thy slumbers! 
 
 MISCELLANAE. 
 
 Work if you would prosper. 
 
 It is not generous to blame youth for the follies of 
 young men. 
 
 lie who stal)s you with a pen would do the same 
 with a penknife, were he as safe from deteelion and the 
 law. 
 
 Never use liarsh words toward cither friend or foe ; 
 for, as the Arabian proverb says, ' Curses, like young 
 cbiekcns, come home to roost.' 
 
 A venerable old gentleman was found a few nights 
 since by the New York police busily engaged in 
 trying to fit his nijjht-key in a knot-hole of a board 
 fence. 
 
 'I like you,' .said a girl to her suitor, ' but I cannot 
 leave home ; I am a widow's only darling ; no hus- 
 band can eiiual my parent in kindness.' ' She is kind,' 
 replied the wooer ; ' but be my wife ; wo will all live 
 together, and see if I don't beat your mother.' 
 
 A Pair of IIusdaxus. — A country editor perpe- 
 trated the following pun upon the marriage of u Mr. 
 Husband to the lady of his choice ; 
 This case is the strangest we've known in our life, 
 The husband's a Husband, and so is the wife. 
 
 The first newspaper printed in America was publish- 
 ed in Boston, under date of .September 22, 1690. A 
 copy of this paper is preserved in the Colonial State 
 Paper Oflice, London. It ia about the size of a sheet 
 of letter paper, and one of the pages is blank. 
 
 Night running is ruinous to the morals of boys. 
 They acquire under the cover of night an unhealthy 
 state of mind, bad, vulgar, and profane language, a I 
 lawless and riotous bearing. Indeed, it is in the street ! 
 after nightfall that boysjrincipallv ac(|uire the educa- 
 tion of the bad, and capBity for becoming rowdv, dis- 
 solute men. 
 
 The discipline of the Amcriciin army is peculiar. 
 During the Mexican war, a great jealousy existed be- 
 tween the ' Regulars ' and the 'Militia,' the rank of 
 whoic respective officers occasionally clashed. Gen- 
 eral ' Downy,' of the militia, in passing a volunteer 
 sentry, who was lounging on the trail of a gun, called 
 out, ' Stand up, sir, and salute, or I'll take you off 
 your post , ' whereupon the sentrj- applying his thumb 
 to his nose, said, ' That won't do, gcn'ril, I tell ye ; I 
 was posted here by a regular lootenant.' 
 
 Good FOR TiiK Etb8. — To give brdlinney to tbo 
 eyes, shut tliem curly at night, and open them early 
 in the morning ; let the mind be constantly intent on 
 the ac<iul«ilion of lienevulent feelings. This will scarce- 
 ly ever fail to impart to the eyes an intelligent and am- 
 iable exptvssion. 
 
 LovB OK Water. — Some personsshrink from bath- 
 ing' but when they once get used to it, it ie indespen- 
 sablc. A medical writer snys, ' Let a child wash him- 
 self all over every morning for sixteen years, and ho 
 will as soon go without his breakfast as bis bath.' 
 
 TiiK Dark Ages. — 'The boy at the head of the 
 class will state what were the dark ages of the world.' 
 
 Boy hesitates. 
 
 'Next — Master Jones, can you tell mc what the dark 
 ages were ■? ' 
 
 ' I guess they were the ages before spectacles were 
 invented.' 
 
 ' Go to your seats.' 
 
 Grief knits two hearts in closer bonds than happi- 
 ness ever can ; and comnion sufferings are far strong- 
 er links than commen joys. 
 
 It has been said that Cupid's rod is arrow root. 
 
 A I"rcnchman, who was exhibiting some relicks, 
 and other curiosities, produced, amoug other things, a 
 sword, which, be assured his visitors, was ' de sword 
 Balaam had when he would kill de ass.' A specta- 
 tor remarked that Balaam had no sword, but only 
 wished for one. Vcr well, dis is de one he wished 
 for.' 
 
 Redemption. — A would-be prophet, down South, 
 said lately, in one of his sermons, that he ' was sent to 
 redeem the world and all things therein.' Whereupon 
 a native pulled out two five-dollar bills on a broken 
 bank, and asked him to fork over the specie for them. 
 
 A Broad Hint. — A Scotch comedian was per- 
 forming at one of the Dublin theatres in an extremely 
 dirty pair of duck trowsers. The audience obs<!rvcd 
 tlie state he was in, and a lad in the gallery cried out, 
 Och I mister, wouldn't your ducks be the better of a 
 swim ? ' 
 
 An elderly gentleman travelling in a stage was 
 amused by a constant fire of words between two ladies. 
 One of them kindly inquired if the conversation did 
 not make his head ache? lie replied: 'No, madam ; 
 I have been married upwards of twenty-eight years!' 
 
 At one of the customary school examinations, an ur- 
 chin was asked — * What is the chief use of bread ? ' 
 To which he replied, with an archness that implied 
 what a simpleton you must be to ask such a question 
 — 'To spread butter upon.' 
 
 'I admire your beautiful 'crops ' this year,' as the 
 fox said to the poultry, in the hearing of the farmer. 
 
 Fools learn to live at their own cost, the wise at 
 other men's. 
 
 LITTLE GRAVES. 
 
 We find the following beautiful little gem floating 
 about, uncreditcd, in our exchanges ; 
 
 ' There's many an empty cradle, 
 There's many a vacant bed. 
 There's many a lonely bosom. 
 
 Whose joy and light has (led ; 
 For thick in every graveyard 
 
 The little hillocks lie— 
 And every hillock represents 
 Ao angel in the sky. 
 
 Deplorable Ignorance. — At the recent exami- 
 nation of about eighty lads, between the ages of thir- 
 teen and sixteen, for admission as apprentices into her 
 Majesty's dockyard at Davonport, more than half were 
 unable to say the Lord's Prayer, and as many, or more, 
 were unable to say perfectly almost any of the Ten 
 Commandments. 
 
 ' Miss, will yen take my arm ?' ' Yes, «ir, and yon 
 too.' ' Can't spare but the arm, miss,' replied the 
 bachelor. • Then I can't take it,' said she, ' as my 
 motto is, ' Go the whole hog or nothing.' 
 
 Akecdote ep MooRB. — A few collegians met to- 
 gotlicr on a :noonlightevoDing to enjoy each oilier'a 
 society ; time paused so plea.santly that it was morn- 
 ing before they separated. — Moore, who was one of the 
 ]iarly, on ojiening the window-shutters, observed the 
 daylight, and wrote at the moment the following 
 Hues : 
 'Tis Aurora ! who comes here to give us a look, 
 
 As Luna has gone for the night. 
 And she wickedly casts on our dear little nook 
 
 The unwelcome intrusive daylight. 
 'Ducu take it ! ' 1 fancy the jealous one said, 
 
 As she glanced our gay visages o'er, 
 
 ' If I cannot dispatch the assembly to bed, 
 
 I will light them, at least to the door.' 
 
 WINTER TUOUGUrS-SXOW OX TUB GBOUKD. 
 
 By JOHX SAVAGE. 
 
 Like a corpst the stark Earth lielh. 
 
 Free from toiling life'w (lceeiti«. 
 And the Air, grown pale from watching, 
 
 Swathes her round with snowy bheetK. 
 
 ir. 
 
 Fold on fold ^-raps mutely round her. 
 
 Her calm breast no life-hope rearo, 
 And she seems, ft-om Heaven's weeping, 
 
 To be tomed in frozen tears. 
 III. 
 But though rigid cold her bosom — 
 
 (Jone Iier niusie— fled her bloom — 
 Still the shrouded earth, like Juliet, 
 
 Is but tranced within the tomb! 
 
 SuDLiME. — We have never seen the truth of the maxim — 
 ' But one step from the sublime to the ridiculous,' better ex- 
 emplified than in the following lines: 
 
 Hermit hoar, in solemn cell, 
 
 Wearing out life's evening gray, 
 .Strike thy bosom, sage and tell, 
 What is bliss, and which the way. 
 
 Thus I spoke and speaking, sigh'd, 
 Scarce repressed the starting tear, 
 
 W^hen the hoary sage replied — 
 ' Come, and drink some lager beer! 
 
 The Miner and uis Hat. — A miner, who had 
 crossed the plains from California to Missouri, two 
 years ago, and returned some six months since, was 
 seen recently at Sonora sitting on the crown of his old 
 hat, singing a parody on the ' Irish Emigrant's La 
 mcnt.' At the time we refer to he was using the hat 
 as a seat, and sang as follows: 
 
 ' I'm sitting on this ' lile,' Mary, 
 
 ' Twas once my greatest pride ; 
 
 One fine May morning long ago 
 
 I.hought it — going to ride 
 
 Across the dreary ' plains,' Mary — 
 
 To shade my burning brow : 
 
 'Twas a splendid hat two years ago, 
 
 And it's mighty useful now.' 
 We need not follow the haidy 'miner' to theend of 
 his Aa(-erogeneous parody. — California paper. 
 
 Tub Catholic Church on Drunkenness. — 
 Bi^bop Bayley, the Catholic Bishop of New Jersey, 
 has issued a manifesto, bringing the machinery of the 
 church to bear against the vice of drunkenness. His 
 letter on the subject has been read in all the churches, 
 in which he calls attention to two classes — the drunk- 
 ards themselves and the dealers in liquor. Leaving 
 to the pastors the choice of the particular means to be 
 used, he suggests that each should keep a list of the 
 drunkards and liquor dealers in his chnrch. lie says : 
 
 'lam determined to make use of the most severe 
 measures against all who are addicted to this scanda- 
 lous and destructive vice ; and if they continue in the 
 practice of it, they must do it as outcasts from the 
 Catholic church, who have no right to the name of 
 Catholic while they live nor to Christian burial when 
 they die. 
 
 The highest premium for meanness has been award- 
 ed to the annoymous letter. 
 
HUSH MISCELLANY. 
 
 79 
 
 ADVERTISEMENTS. 
 
 (Ct^l 
 
 
 T. & A would inform Publisher?, Anthers and Printers, 
 that they are prepared to uudertake"ull ordei-s for Design- 
 ing, Drawing, and Engraving, from a single illnstration to 
 a series of any extent, for Books and Newspapers with a 
 strict regard to superior workmanship and moderate char 
 
 PirORRI.S, Al'OTHKCARY, Corner Federal and Pur- 
 • chase street?, foot of Summer street, ^BOSTON. 
 .Strict pei-soual attention paid to compounding Physician^s 
 Prescriptions. A choice selection of Family" Medici^e9 
 constantly on hand. A well selected Stock of genuine im- 
 ported Perfumery and Fancy Goods. Soda Water with 
 choice Syrups. A large assortment of (Jenuine Havana 
 Cigars constantlv on hand. feb 13 
 
 WHY I'.rRX (IAS BY DAYIJiillT ? STEPHEN 
 RiiK & CO.. Inventors and .^lanufacturers of the 
 Improved Daylight Reflector, fur diffusing the 
 healthy light of dity into all dark places. No. 23 State st., 
 Boston, and No. 34 Park street. Baltimore. 
 N. B. Call and see it in operation. 6m febl3 
 
 GILMOKES SALE3I QUADRILLE BAKD. E. UP- 
 TON, Jr.. Prompter. Apply to P. S- Gilmoke, Es- 
 BdK House, Salem, Mass. 3m feblS 
 
 OOLEY'S MERCHANTS' EXCHANGE HOTEL, 
 
 State Street, Boston, conducted upon the European 
 
 O^Rooms, per dav — 50 cents. Lodging— 25 cents. 
 P. S. After the 1st of April next, Mr. Dooley will move 
 to his New Hotel. No. 25 Portland street. feblS 
 
 D 
 
 plan. 
 
 WILLIAM MA^'NING, Sexton & Funekal Under- 
 taker of tlie Dorcliester Catholic Cemoteiv. would 
 iiUorm his friends and the puhlic, that hi- k.-c]w r.iiisfantly 
 on hand and manufactures to order, (.'nfliii^ .tl :,ll -iz.-s iiiid 
 kinds, at his coffin wareroom, No. 1 Da\ i- >i., l:"\l.,iiv. 
 
 (jJrave clothes of various cjualities foi ^ak . ;iinl LdUm plates 
 engraved at short notice. [E7=- Price of (..ran.-, .SS..jU. 
 
 ST. I'ATRICKS NIGHT! A grand Vocal and Instrn- 
 menlal Concert will he given bv the St. Cecilia Choral 
 Society, (one hundred singers.) and Cra.ss Hand attached, 
 a.^8i.ste'd bv the full Germania Orchestra, and ilendelssohn 
 Glee Clu6. at Trcmont Temple, Wednesday, JIarch 17, 1858. 
 Mr. John Falkeustein, Director, Organist of St. Mary's 
 Church. Boston. 
 
 Tickets 25 cts., to be had at the Pilot Office, and the fol- 
 lowing gentlemen : 
 
 I^jstun — E. A. Palmer, E. A. Coggins, Patrick Donahoe, 
 T. Moonev, James O'Neil, M. Doherty, Martin Grithn, C. 
 Dohertv, E. S. Wright, Wm. S. McGowan, Dennis Bonner, 
 M. A. Farren. Wra. Dorcv, J. Cunningham, Dr. Walter 
 Walsh, Wm. Coyle, J. N. McDevitt, T. Powers, J. W. Bar- 
 ron, Geo.E. Murphv, F. ODowd, Wm. Harley, Jas. Galla- 
 gher, M. Carney. John Flynu, John Doherty. 
 
 South Boston — Dr. Ferguson, Wm. McAvoy, Ambrose 
 A. Thaver. 
 
 Ea.st Boston — 31. Doherty, P. McDonough, H. Kingtnan, 
 Dr. Taylor. 
 
 Itox bury —Joseph Walker, 31. 31isclilcr, J. 3Iurphy, 3Iar- 
 tin Lynch, James Baxter. 
 
 Charleslown— 31. Lcnuan, C. Grace, F. Holland, P. U. 
 Neagle. 
 
 Cambridge and East Cambridge — Wm. Brine, John Coni- 
 an, ilohn uaegney, John F. Brine, Jos. F. Scaulan, Jas . 
 Cassidy, J. Kicman. m6 
 
 LECTUKEwill be delivered in the basement of St. 
 Vincent's Churcti, Purchase St., (forthe benelit of the 
 Sunday School.) on .Sunday Evening, Slarch 14th, by Kev. 
 J. T, Roddan. .Subject — Joan of Arc. Lecture to com- 
 mence at 7 1-2 o'clock. 
 
 Tickets 25 cts. Children half price. To be bad at the 
 osnal places and at the door on that evening. m6 
 
 E. SAXBOKX. Wholesal.-anrl r.etail Dealer in Gold 
 • and MLVKi: Watcuks. Ji.;«-Ki.nv, Sii.vkr Wake. 
 SCY Goods., &c. >o. lai Federal Mreet. Boston. 
 ^IC?" Particular attention giveu to llepairing Watches 
 
 AMUSEMENTS. 
 
 ^1'1^I'1LS ! (ti'EUA ilousE— School Street, opposite 
 Franklin .M,.niiM.rnt. 
 
 I'lic ah»'\t' ( ninpaiiv commenced their Series of Unique 
 r.iul.s.iiie i;ilii,.|,jan 'Jlelan^-.s on JIuNDAV EVKiMNG, 
 
 .hni.llh, isos, a,„l will e..iiiiiiiic evi'rv f\.- g.ind .Salur- 
 
 ilav Alh'ni(H,ii ,hii ihi; 111.' sra»..li. 'llie hall has l.i-,-n In-au- 
 liliilh lUli-d u|.. and'llic Managers jiledge theni,-el\ es that 
 no pains shall be wauling on their part to render this the 
 place III' amusement for the phiy-''oing public. 
 
 Cards of admission, 25 cents ; Children under ten years, 
 lueiiils. 
 
 t, , Udorsopenat 6 3-4 o'clock ; perfoinKUMi nun. hi- 
 
 iuK al 7 1-2. LON JlOlUtIS & J. ■.!'. Ill ', n.;:'i 
 
 Iflil;; tf Busili. Uni:i .■, 
 
 /AKUWAY HALL, Washington street, liiaiiv np|,u.Mi.j 
 \ P llle •■ lll.l South.'' Kintll Kegular Season. ' Jlauager, 
 J. P. (lUOWAY. 
 
 EvKuv I'U'KNiNO This ATeeic. Messrs. ISowers & llnd- 
 woilli (IVoni clnisly & Woials' Jliiis(rels), the celebrated 
 l'.lliin]iiai; I nnHiliaiis, will a|i|ii-ar in I'niiiunCtiOU with Ord- 
 \ia> .- .Kul.lA.NS, >,,,-iiiall bil Is rath day. 
 
 IJ , I ;.■:,, 1.. :;', cidI — l hildiea liall'iMiee. 
 
 Doors upi'U alUj-1 uclock; I'o commence at 7 1-2. fl3 
 
 DO Iit)Ll.KE, ic.pcctfulh infoimshis Uu nds ,ind the 
 . public, that he keeps constantly on hand COFFINS 
 of all sizes and kinds, at his Coffin "3Ianufactory, No, 347 
 Federal, between Beach and Kneeland Stieets, Boston, 
 which he will sell as reasonable as can be bought at any oth- 
 er place in the city. 
 
 N. B. — Orders punctually attended to, day or night. 
 
 Kesidencc, No. 28 South street, Boston. 
 
 O^G rave-Clothes luruished to order at short notice. 
 
 Iebl3 
 
 I!i-aeh Stu'cts, near the 
 Vorcester and (lid Coloiiv Kaihoa.l Depot, llo^lon. 
 Teujis— One dollar and tweiitv-live cents jier dav. 
 febl3 H. F. GAKDXEK, JI. D., Proprietor. 
 
 ^TAC:KP0LE HOUSE, Willia.« Stone. Corner 3Iilk 
 ^ and Devonshire streets, Boston. 
 [CT^European Papers on tile. feb 13 
 
 Clocks, Jewelry, &c. &c. 
 
 febl3 
 
 ANY of the following works, published by P. 31. HAV- 
 EKTY, 110 Fulton street. New Yokjc, will be sent free 
 bv mail, on leeeipt of the amount in money or postage 
 
 stanii«:- 
 
 i;i;.mim;s( I'.NSES of an emighant milesian. 
 
 The lii.^ii .\ I naiad and at Home; with Souvenirs of the Brig- 
 ade. One \'..l.. 12 mo., cliifh. I'vire, Sl.nri. 
 
 HIliEHM.\i\ NK.iir.s- KM I'.K l'.\l\:\Ii:,\TS: By 
 Samuel Feririison, l.L.Ii., i;.lil.,r nl 1 lir I iiil.l iii Universi- 
 ty JIaj.'a/iiie'. Vi uio., cloth, r.lll pa;:r,-. Tiiie ■r\:i:,. 
 'E.MJllCT: Lives of Koliert alui Thomas A.uUs Emmot, 
 with a lueiiniir of Kobert Holmes. Twoportraits on steel, 
 12nio. cloth. Price. .'gl.OO. 
 
 ]iA\ iss I'OF.JIS: With an introduction by John Mitch- 
 ell, IS in, I. . eh. Ill post. Price, 38 cents. 
 
 Fri'Z(.F.i;.\Ll): III. .mas Jloore's Life of Lord Edward 
 litZL'cral.l. I'JiMi... rl,.tli. Price, 75 cents. 
 
 WILU 1KI,-II (,11;L: By Lady ilorgan. ISmo., cloth, 
 2 vols, in une. i'riee. Ijll cents. 
 
 P. 31. II. will also send any of the publications of P. 
 
 B, 
 
 S. TliEANOK, ATTOENEY and COUNSELLOR 
 AT LAW, 15 31assachusetts Block, Court Siiuare, 
 
 Boston. 
 HyParticnlar attention paid to Conveyancing, and the 
 
 examination of titles of Keul Estate. febl3 
 
 i'flCA.-M .1(11! l'l:lNfL\(, KSlAI'.LI.Sll- 
 ■ ■ . prepared to 
 
 .KU; I'KIM IM 
 
 .le.-c 
 
 iptn 
 
 I the 
 
 ■Mai. Ill I'. .-in,; llaiiilliills,- llall lards; Bank Checks; 
 
 Coll. rill rriiiliim; ( iirulars: ( rvslal Signs; Bill Heads; 
 Labels; tards of all kinds; Flock Work, &c.. flc, &c, e.v- 
 ecuted with a beauty of style and liuish uiiei|Ualleil bv any 
 Establishmeut in the country. W. li. JA( KSON, " 
 
 T. P. FdVMCs. 
 Proprietors of the Boston Steam Printing ( itlice. 
 
 KELLY & CUi\NINGUA3I. BILL P( ISTEIIS and Dis- 
 tributors, No, 2 Williams Court, Bosti.ii, Proprietors 
 of all the llii.L l!iiAiu),'( IN THE CiTV, ii-pietnillv an- 
 nounce to the hnsiiii^s cmniiinitv nl I'.n- i,.l ,N, York, 
 
 that thrv have gri-atlv iiiereasi-il tliilr ImiMlir- r.,r Posting 
 and hlMiiliiiiiMg Hills, such as 'f heal u , ( ihr,. 1 1. Lecture, 
 Auetii.u, Sti-ainbi.at, Circus. &c, S:c, 
 
 Owing to the great increase in their business, they have 
 been oliliged to add horses and wagons to their heretofore 
 ample accommudatioiis, tu which tiiey give their personal 
 attention. 
 
 •.•Thnnkftil for past favors thev would respectfully so- 
 licit a continuance of public patronage. 
 
 KELLY &. CUNNINGUA3I, 2 Williams Court, 
 
 febl3 Boston. 
 
 T^ 
 
 ANNKR. IIALPI.N- & COMPANY, Dim:. niuY PuB- 
 JEUS. Advehtisino and Colleotino Agents. No. 
 Ii Clark sireel, Chicago. Illinois, cmpileis of D. B. 
 " '■ .ciihmgo. Di- 
 
 PBOSPECTTTS. 
 
 IRISH Mlsl 1,1.1. \N-,-, r,i..pii|iis. (1,1 Saliiiilay the 
 b;ili 'la.^ l,,,,i,,i I-,,:-, «ill l„, , ,.|,,,l 11,0 lirst 
 
 II the (lillli,i,,i, ,.1 a niole intimate klio« ledge o} 
 and polilieal hiMorv of Ireland, and to the 
 lul and political elevation of the Celtic race on 
 
 The ■• Irisli Mi< 
 printed matter, ., 
 pectus. I'riei I , 
 
 t; jiages of clcscly 
 
 ;:i to Ibis pros- 
 
 I ■ ' ■■■cry ( or 182 a 
 
 V, , .„ Mt>rt:/lnvy, it is 
 uli lu tle,-])ass upon 
 
 Chicago, Feb, 13 
 
 ChoieeM ll.iui.i-ali.l niill,- ,.! I,l,n,i „,.■, I;a- I, il 1,, , 1 1, lain 
 comparaliieli barren and (iiipi uuuelji e, Jl.U. llii,- held W6 
 Shalt enter witli a full eonlidence of its capabilities, but with 
 a modest dill. deuce of the skill which we shall bring to its 
 culture. 
 
 It has long been a reproach to our race here, that -while 
 the public dioii (fthtilii with but le« (.\ei|)tu iis, ttcm 
 ■\Mth Mle came itiiH iil n mil ul i m ii imln— w Inlt we 
 ait contmn (111 hi Id iiii to ] iihln ^ i/e i tvu\lliiii„ that is 
 tool] h lb (111 (iiil M 1 11 — I ut little tUoiti niidctoplate 
 thetidi ill 11 1 I 1 I 11 iiiipic bcloie the public tj e or 
 Miidii II 111 111111 111 I 1 1 . 11 om the talumniLS with which 
 Ln^h h 11 111 HI 1 ul 1 I 111 at u 
 
 lo< 11 I 111 111 111 1 an fin fiMn„ omI it was at 
 111 t ml 1 liil t nil 1 (111 iMii il I 1 111 I, ,11111 dis- 
 
 tnuui 1 I 1.1 111, « III 1 1,1 1 ilui 1, , |„, h 1, ,11, nfhly 
 auiii \ will li I 1 liiliii, 1 il 111 1, 111 I U i.iiiid to 
 111 1 I 1 111 h hill hi.lL 01 111 Lnoiu lliL „iiat expti, t con- 
 |iiiiilii| .11 111 undcitakin^ ol this ungnitude detenedus 
 Il 111 ilii nil nipt compLlkd us to leliiniuish oui de i n, 
 iiid lo ul titute instead thtieot, oui moie unpitteudlus 
 
 M, lUuui ' 1 !■ 6 
 
 A\ c pi opose to le produce in our weekly periodical the 
 wutings ot m^n^ ol the ^leit mmds who ha\e -one beioie 
 us while wt shall il o cull tiom the cuuent lu h liteia- 
 ture ot the day, such productions of merit cannot fail to be 
 acceptable to our readers \i.\r country is rich in legendry 
 lore, and the legends ot the old land, while they amuse, 
 serve to instruct and to elevate. 
 
 We shall therefore publisli such instructive tales and le- 
 gends of a high moral tone, that will remind us of the hap- 
 py times when we — 
 
 " Sat bv the Arc of a cold Winter's night, 
 Along with o(ir fiiciids telling tales nf delight," 
 
 We shall give I'aithfnl ilvsiiiitiniis ai .1 illiiMi ations of 
 Irish antiquities — of mir niii,il iin.iia.-lirn >, oar pluiulered 
 abbeys and churches ; ami i.ur pietmial iliiMiatinns olTiish 
 
 familiar scenes lit earh i-liikilioud. We have secured the 
 services of talented artists, and each number of the Mistet- 
 lanij will contain nunieruiis pictorial illustrations executed 
 in the best style i.fart. 
 
 3Ve shall keep eonstaiitly before our readers the ancient 
 glory of our coiiiitrv. and while we ponderwith pride upon 
 the moral and inlelleetual superioritv of Ireland, when 
 Enjjland and the rest of Europe was sunk in ignorance and 
 bailiarism ; we shall point to the past as an incentive to the 
 future. 
 
 The biographies of distinguished Irishmen will be an im- 
 portant Icature in the Irisli Misnilniiy, as we shall give bio- 
 graphical notices of Iiishnien, distinguished in every de- 
 partment of literature, science and art— ot" men distinguish- 
 ed on the sea and on land ; in the church, the senate, and 
 at the bar. 
 
 It is our intention to republish the works of Irish writers 
 now out of print, in such a manner that they may be pie- 
 served to future time as a memento of the old loud, and 
 serve to iuealciilate. in the niimU of fin- rising generation, 
 atilial re.-aid for the land I.I thiir lalliii- 
 We pri.iiii^e ci.iiiiiieiieiiig villi ihr II. ,,) Ftimy Journal, 
 a work wliichin ils day eii,i,,M',l in, 1,, mi, , led popularity. 
 We shall devi.te one lialfolllie JJ,,., , //.„,., lo each number 
 of that national publieatiun, lo do this we have ordered a 
 font of type ill Irish L-haraetiis, ,-o that the poems printed 
 in that Journal ill the Irish language can be reprinted in 
 Irish characters with EiiglMi translation in ours. This 
 departnieiif i.ftlie ."i;,>v. /,'„„., „ ill i,,. in the hands ofau Irish 
 
 gentlelliaii eiery way ennipilelil li. tlie ta.-k. 
 
 The reiiiaiiiiii.g einlit pa;;i,- nrHi,- -i;..,-,,/,,,,,, will be devo- 
 ted to the eiineiit llew^ ultlie ila.i ,ti, original articles, talcs. 
 essays, puedy. Sic, In piihtus \m shallendeavor to avoid 
 liicliiia\e iluiilid our couiitrjmeu, or 
 
 I tin 
 
 The Insh ,i;,,<,,//„„,/ will be thoroughlv independent of all 
 political parties— the slave of none- Such (iiiei-lions as af- 
 fect our ei.diitlyiiiin here, we shall discuss with freedom, 
 and zealuuslv labor for their moral, intellectual and politi- 
 cal ekn atimi. 
 
 The edilorial labors w ill lie divided among several gentle- 
 men of ability, and we trii,-t to make the 3/i,wH«ny a wel- 
 come guest at the liicMde uieverv t'amily. AVith these re- 
 marks we commend our sliiet to the siipjiort of every ^veU 
 wisher of our race. We feil tlieie is room ibr such a pub- 
 lication and promise that lo.ihiug shall be wanting on our 
 part to make it worthy of public .-iipjiort. 
 
 JACKSON & CO., PUBLISHEEB, 
 
 2 Spring Lane, Boston. 
 (D=- Communications lo Editors to be addressed— Care of 
 Publishers, 2 Spriug Lane, Boston. 
 
 PRINTED and PUBLISHED by Jackson & Co.. 
 No. 2 Sprinq Lane,— BOSTON. 
 
 RATES OF ADVERTISING. 
 
 FOR EACH SQUARE OP TWELVE I-INE9. 
 
 First insertion, . . . Sl.HO | Three months, . . S5.00 
 
 Each subsequent do. . 60 | One year, .... m.OO 
 
 Six lines or less constitute half a square. 
 
 Larger advertisements charged in proportion. 
 
 Business Notices, solid ... in cents per line. 
 
 leaded 
 
 15 
 
 BU.SINT:SS cards ok .six r.iNES OK less. 
 
 For One 3Ionth, . . . .?1.50 I Six 3Iontlis, . . . S5.00 
 
 Three Months, . . . S3.00 1 One Year, .... S8.00 
 
 •,*A11 advertisements payable in advance. 
 
^dfdeir fvprfsslir for ffje Irisfj ItTisfcllanir. 
 
 POETRY I3Y THOMA.S MOOKE, ESQ 
 
 
 ACCOMPANIMENT BY SIR JOHN STEPHENSON, Mus. Doc. 
 
 AIR.- r.\KNU\V.\.« 
 
 e-i| 
 
 1. Oh ! wcop for the hour.Wlien to 
 
 ^i=i^Bi 
 
 - ^ m^0imm ■'■ *^'»! wcop for thu hour.Wlien to 
 
 PLAiXTivE. -*-#-*- ^^rm- 
 
 ^^E.. clean's bower The Lord of the V.lley with^ false vows came ; The moon hid her light. From the hoavcns^t n^ltX^ 
 
 
 
 mM: 
 
 :*=?: 
 
 l^^=Eg 
 
 
 — ^zzrzzzi'znz* — ^ 
 
 S-:^:^J3^Id=^^==^T^■==^- 
 
 weptboh.ndtheclo udso-or the maid - en'.^.n^Tl. cloudsposs'd «oon From the ch^e cold moon. .^ heaven smiled a- ^ with he r 
 
 
 
 ^^^^§=^^^=Sli3ii^l^^P 
 
 £=;e5e 
 
 ves - t^l flame; But none will see the day AVhen the clouds shall pass a-wa^Which that dark hour left up-on Ez-eleen's fame. 
 
 > JJ ' '" "'-'-""' "";' " "'-•"""-■^'ouus snail pass a-way, Which that dark hour left up-on E/-cleen's fame 
 
 
 P^ii: 
 
 2. 
 
 — ^-^ ^ -f ?=j=::=iq— Kit r 
 
 The white snow lay. on the narrow pathway. Tl,e »ext sun's my soon melted away. 
 
 Where tlie Lord of the v.. ley cross'd over the moor ; Ev',7 trace on the path whore the" false Lord came ; 
 
 Anil many a deep print on the white snow s tint. But tliPiv'*: ■, i;,rl>f .,V,^,.„ i ■ i i 
 
 «, -i.i . 1 ri- ^ ,, ■""'^ "'cie » a light above, whicli alone can remove 
 
 .0 .■ . . 1 . ^'''P '" ^"■''''" ' ''"'"■• '^'■^* •"'»'" "P°" '»«' --- of «">• Kvc-leen's fame. 
 
 Our cU.™ U. .UL, AT ,.., t«„ UL^puCU ; but .,., ,bo ar. b»t «,u,i..u.a wiU. uMlon.. „e,odio, pronounce U .o b. Iri,b. U i, .^nen.ll, known b, .„o n.na- of • Th. p.tt. Olrl of Derb,, 0." 
 
VOLUME L— NUMBER 6. ] 
 
 BOSTON, SATURDAY, MARCH 20, 1858. 
 
 [ PRICE FOUR CENTS. 
 
 THE COVE OF CORK. 
 Not very many years ago, Cove whs merelj' a fish- 
 ing village, and residence of Custom-house officers. 
 Its natural advantages have now rendered it an im- 
 portant nlace ; for its harbor is nndoulitedly the no- 
 blest asylum for shipping in Europe. Nothing can be 
 conceived more enchanting than to proceed cither by 
 land or water from Cork to Cove ; more especially 
 when there is a king's fleet in the harbor. It is worth 
 taking a journey from DuHlin to Cork to see it ; and 
 it may be made a question, whether even Killarney, 
 
 with all its lakes, mountains, woods, and waterfalls, is 
 calculated to fill the mind with nobler or sublime: 
 thoughts, or lovelier imases than the scenery of land 
 and river, as you proceed to the harbor from the city. 
 When the tide is in the Lee, it looks a fine river: as 
 indeed it is, for i; almost rivals the Blackwater in the 
 romantic beauties of its course, from its source in the 
 sublime and sacred lake of Gouganc Barra, until it 
 mingles its waters with the sea, in Coik harbor. 
 
 Suppose you depart from Cork for Cove, by water 
 — on the left, as you proceed down the river, arc the 
 
 wooded heights of Glanmire, crowned with numerous 
 villas and mansions. On the right, the almost equally 
 rich grounds leading to Blackvock Castle and Monks- 
 town. The great interest of the passage by water to 
 Cove, arises from the sinuous winding of. the estuary 
 of the Lee, by which rapid changes of scenerj' are pre- 
 sented to your vii w, embellished by a succession of 
 woods, ships, castles, and villages. Blackrock Cas- 
 tle is fine — the reach at Passage, where merchant ves- 
 sels usually ride at anchor, is beautiful ; but when 
 you turn Battery Point, and see the noble harbor of 
 
 Cork spreading lis brond bosom before you, with its 
 fortified isles, and a large fleet riding securely under 
 their shelter, you feel that it is at once lovely and inag- 
 uiticent. 
 
 Cove certainly is a delightful sea-shore residence. — 
 The town is situated on the steep siile of the hill, with 
 tt southern expo-ure; beneath it, and around it ex- 
 tends the noble landlocked harbor, surrounded by fine 
 desmesnes ; it is clean, from the steepness of the hill 
 on which it is built ; and dry, from its southern cxpo- 
 posnie. Ii is de=ciTcdlr considered a place favorable 
 
 T H E COVE OF CO U K . 
 fo invali.U ; and wc I clieve no situation in Ireland en- 
 joys so nii'd and ginlal a climate;— |iei haps the air 
 may be rather moist for some constitutions ; but if that 
 is found to be no objection, let those in search of a mild- 
 er climate, try Cove; in thespiing of tlie year more es- 
 pecially it is not subjected (o those keen withering east- 
 erly winds, that are so detrimental to weakly frames, 
 and under which many still sulFer who seek for health 
 in the south of France, and the shores of the Mediter- 
 ranean. Let any one read Starke's travels in Fra.nce 
 and Italy, and they tvIU find that Montpelior, Nic«, Gc 
 
 nna, and Naples, all sufTtT under distressing winds ia 
 the spring season — that the Vent de Bhe, or the Si- 
 rocco winds blowing from the parched shores of Af- 
 rica ore intolerable to any dclic.ito constitution, ar.d 
 many only proceed to those boasted southern shores to 
 live with less comfort and die the sooner — far from 
 friends, and all those accommodations and associations 
 that smooth the pillow and alleviate the sufferings of 
 the invalid. We have seen a residence in Cove restore 
 many to health ; and even to those who need no phy- 
 •idan, C^re', fl>r a great i»»tt cf the yoar, mtibt ba a 
 
82 
 
 IRISU MISCELLANY. 
 
 driighirul residence. Not only the bcniity of the siir- rone was niniost crossed by U'Gulliiglicr, beforo the 1 
 rouuding country — the lively Bocicty nlTordcd by ibo | Scoiclimuii awoke to rcj-iimc his journey. The Btory 
 shipping in the harbor — iliu ready and rapid comniii- is siill toUl wiih triumf.h ihroiigh the counlry, how ihc 
 
 nioiition wiih the city of Cork ; bat iho cheapness of 
 all sorts of provisions, auil the abundant ^upply of the 
 best fi-ih, render it a very attraciivo place of resort ; 
 and we only regret that certain circumstances have, for 
 the present diminished its impotlaneo. 
 
 SIR CAUIR O'DOHERTY. 
 The rock of Dounc, or as it was originally called, the 
 rock of Kilmacrcnan, is famous as being the place 
 wheru the chieftains of Tyrconiiel were inaugurated by 
 the Abbots of Kilmacrenan ; and also as being where 
 the fierce Sir Cahir O'Doherty closed his life, in the 
 reign of James I. 
 
 The plantation of Ulster had not as yet taken place ; 
 bat already many Scots had settled themselves along 
 the rich alluvial lands that border the Ijoughs Foyle 
 and Snilly ; and it wits Sir Cahir's most desired end 
 and aim to extirpate these intruders. He was the 
 Scotchman's curse and scourge. One of these Scots had 
 8ettlc<I in the valley of the Lcnnon ; Rory O'Donncl, 
 the Q'lecn's i;arl of Tyrconnel, had given him. part 
 of that fertile valley — and he there built his bawn. 
 But Sir Cahir, in the midst of night, and in Sandy 
 Ramsay's absence, attacked his enclosure, drove oft' 
 his cattle, slaughtered his wife and children, and left 
 his pleasant homestead a heap of smoking ruins. 
 
 The Scot, on his return home, saw himself bereav- 
 ed, Icfl d.'solate in a foreign land, without property, 
 kindred or home ; nothing his, but his true gun and 
 dirk. He knew that five hundred marks were the re- 
 ward offered by the Lord Deputy for Sir Cahir's head. 
 With a heart maddened by revenge, with hope resting 
 on the promised reward, he retired to the wooden hills 
 that run parallel to the Hill of Doune ; there, under 
 covert of a rock, his gun resting on the withered branch 
 of a stunted oak, he waited day by day, with all the 
 patience and expectancy of a tiger in his lair. Sir Ca- 
 bir was a man to be marked in a thousand ; he was 
 the loftiest and proudest in his bearing of any man in 
 the Province of Ulster ; his Spanish hat with the he- 
 ron's plume was too often the terror of his eneiuies — 
 the rallying point of his friends, not to bespeak the 
 O'Doherty ; even the high breast-work of loose stones, 
 added to the natural defi:nccs of tlie rock, could not 
 hide the chieftain from observation. 
 
 On Holy Thursday, as he rested on the eastern face 
 of the rock, looking towards the Abbey of Kilmacre- 
 nan exp.cting a venerable frair to come from this fav- 
 ored foundation of St. Columbkill, to .shrive him, and 
 celebrate mass ; and as he was chatting to his men be- 
 side him, the Scotchman applied the fire to his level- 
 ed matchlock — and before the report began to roll its 
 echoes through the woods and hills, the ball had pass- 
 ed through Sir Cahir's foreliead and he lay lifeless on 
 the ramparts. His followers were panic-struck ; they 
 thought that the rising of the Scotch and English was 
 upon them, and deserting the lifeless body of their 
 leader th>y dispersed through the mountains. In the 
 mennwliile the Scotchman approached the rock ; he 
 saw his foe fall ; he saw his followers flee. He soon 
 severed the head from the body, wrapping it in his 
 plaid, off he set in the direction of Dublm. He travel- 
 led all that day, and at n'ght look shelter in a cabin 
 belonging to one Terence O'Gallagher, situated atone 
 of the fords of the river Finn. 
 
 Here Ramsay sought a night's lodging, which Irish- 
 men never refuse ; and partaking of an oaten cake and 
 some sweet mi'k, he went to rest with Sir Cahir's 
 head under his own as a p How. The Scotchman slept 
 sound, — and Terence was up at break of day. He 
 saw blood oozing out through the plaid that served as 
 his guest's pillow, and suspected all was not right ; so 
 slitting the tartan plaid, he saw the hair and head of a 
 man. Slowly drawing it out, he recognised features 
 well kno^vn to every man in TyrconncI ; ihey were Sir 
 Cahir's. Terence knew as well as any man that there 
 was a price set on this very head — a price abundant to 
 make his fonuiic — a price he was now resolved to try 
 and gain. So off Terence started, and the broad Ty- 
 
 Irishman, without the treason, reaped the reward of 
 Sir Cahir's death — Sketches in lite North and Houth of 
 Irtlaud. 
 
 THE ROMAN MERCHANT. 
 
 BT THE O'haRA FAMILY. 
 
 The Irish-town of our dear and not uncelebrated 
 native city, (Kilkenny) is now before our eyes, as viv- 
 id as when wu roanxd through it in childhood. One j 
 side of its main street reposes in the sunshine of a sun- 
 ny Saturday. (Why has the word occurred ! — rather 
 why ask that question ? — what reader who has been a 
 school-boy will not comprehend the associations that 
 suggest it ! A sunny Saturday ! — school dismissed at 
 noon — the whole day and evening, aye, and the next 
 day too, legthening out iiefore our minds in a most 
 lu.xuriuus prospect of leisure and enjoyment — and the 
 blessed sun shining ! Oh ! to this hour, a sunny Sat- 
 urday wears its own peculiar radiance to our eyes, 
 and gladdens our heart like a very act of happiness ! 
 But we must describe — not be guilty of sentiment.) 
 
 We have said that the main street of our Irish town 
 appears to us this moment, as vividly as when we 
 were children ; yet not exactly so. Memory is at best 
 hut a camera-obscura, in which, though there be true 
 forms, there are sobered colors and sulidued lights ; 
 even tlie sunlight cannot be brought to mind as brilliant 
 as it in reality is, or has been. It is promised, how- 
 ever, that our little sketch shall be faithful enough. 
 
 So, seventy or eighty years ago, we are in the main 
 street, seeing nearly the same houses, shop-windows, 
 and shop-doors, and nearly the same kind of shopkeep- 
 ers standing at them, or leaning cross-armed over 
 them, which have already been described. It is past 
 noon, too, and the summer sun is uncloudedly shin- 
 ing. 
 
 Amid all the quiet and listlessness of the little street, 
 a remarkable man, leading a small cart, drawn by an 
 ass, entered it by a cross-street, at the country side of 
 the Irish-town, and attracted immediate attention. He 
 wore a costume wide h, to whatever nation or tribe it 
 belonged, proclaimed him a stranger, not only in that 
 town, but in Ireland. This consisted visibly of a loose- 
 ly-fashioned great-coat, of a brown color, reaching 
 nearly to his toes, secured tightly at his throat, and 
 girt round his middle with a leathern belt and buckle; 
 of russet boots, falling in folds to his ankles; and of 
 a head dress of red linen, or some such cloth, wound 
 round and round his forehead. Having turned the cor- 
 ner of the street, he raised his eyes, which had been 
 previously fixed on the ground, as if to note the situa- 
 tion of a little inn, to which he might have been direct- 
 ed ; and then the interest of the shopkeepers of Irish- 
 town increased ten-fold. More than one of them, af- 
 ter debating with their neighbors the probale conn 
 try, rank, profession, and religion of the stranger, pas- 
 sed over to the inn to hold consultation on the same 
 points with its shrewd and observant landlady. But 
 they were themselves. Her new guest, af;er seeing his 
 little beast well disposed of, had summoned his servants 
 they only found her as much surprised and as curious as 
 to unload his cart, and caused them to convey its 
 trunks, boxes, and packages into a private room ; and 
 then, placing a p rse \-\ her hands, retired after his 
 propcity, ordering a frugal dinner. Since that mo- 
 ment neither she nor any one in her house had seen 
 bim. He kept his door loi ked, and objected to open 
 it till the hour of linner. His language was Englis'i, 
 broadly marked with a foreign accent and idiom ; yet 
 he made himself sufficiently intelligible. 
 
 Conjecture continued at a stand for many hours. At 
 last, in the cool of the evening, :he good folk of Irish- 
 town saw the same man issue from the ion, dressed 
 like one of themselves, his beard gone, and a decent 
 three-cocked hat on his head, instead ol the unchris- 
 tian-looking pile of red linen. He crossed the little 
 bridge, and passed ' into town.' Again bis landlady 
 
 waa consulted, and her answers, while they gave mora 
 information than before, caused more surprise. At 
 dinner he had a.sked of htr the name and residence of 
 the propiietor of the house which was to be let in tho 
 street, and noted down both in his tablel.4 ; and after 
 his meal, he, a second time, went up to his chamber; 
 there cut and shaved off his beard, and changed hia 
 dress ; when he had done dressing, locked hU door on 
 the outside; and finally left her house, as her neigh- 
 bors had observed, without speaking another word. 
 
 Ditlerent opinions were exchanging, when the 
 stranger reappeared, cros.'.ing the little bridge followed 
 by the clerk of the attorney who did legal business f r 
 the gentleman whom he had gone to .seek. Both gain- 
 ed the house in question, and at its threshold the clcik 
 handed a key to his companion, and wished him a good 
 evening ; the new comer unlocked the door and enter- 
 ed the premises, which had now evidently become 
 his. 
 
 In a short time he was seen standing at the door, 
 looking anxiously up the street. An upholsterer and 
 two of his apprentices came in view, bearing a few of 
 the most necessary articles of household furniture. 
 He beckoned to them ; they passed into his house as if 
 to arrange their goods. He went over to the inn ; re- 
 turned w'th all its spare hands carrying the I'lggagc of 
 his cart, and before nighifull he hud secured his door, 
 and he was alone in his house, the light of a candle 
 shining through the chinks of one of the windows. — 
 That was a memorable night in the charitable dub- 
 room of Irish-town. 
 
 The earliest riser among his neighbors, next 'irom- 
 ing, saw his shop open, and an ample stock of various 
 articles handsomely disposed in its little bow window, 
 and hanging at its door. These consisted of a strange 
 medley: — woollen and lir.en ; showy jewellery; t<>bac- 
 co and snufii'; books and pamphlets ; knives, sci.ssors, 
 needles, and such matters ; ready-made shoes, and 
 boots ; and Haunting colored engravings, mostly of 
 divine or sacred subjects. All Irish-town were soon 
 up and stirring and, one by one, his competitors walk- 
 ed observantly by his door, or entered his new estab- 
 lishment, in a more blunt and friendly manner, to 
 wish him good morrow and a welcome. They found 
 him sitting behind his counter gravely, and like a 
 man of business, 'taking stock,' as they believed, in a 
 large book. He received all his visiters politely, and 
 if he did not return their smiles or good-humored say- 
 ings, he was not backward in replying to their mere- 
 ly complimentary or friendly expre.'sions. All cur- 
 ious enquiries about strange articles in his shop he 
 answered off-hand, and satisfactorily. Ho was asked 
 if he proposed to stay some lime among his new 
 neighbors ; and he said | ' I hope so ; I have taken the 
 house for seven years.' Waa he not a foreingcr ? 
 ' Yes ; a native of Home.' And his name 1 ' Bar- 
 tolini.' 
 
 In a few days Bartolini went by tho name of ' the 
 Roman Merchant,' and never afterwards was other- 
 wise designated. 
 
 Soon after his settlement in Irish-town, he was 
 more than once invited to a neighbor's house ; he de- 
 clined the civility with his usual blandness, but so 
 lirmly and gravely as to put an end to future solicita- 
 tions. He asked no one to his house ; and, in fact, 
 from the night it became his, until he was no longer 
 master of it, it never was entered by any one, except 
 by the customers, or chance visitors of his shop. — 
 Proposals were made to him to become a member of 
 the charitable club of the parish. He readily con- 
 sented, and sent in treble the amount of the specified 
 subscription, but never went to the club-room ; and 
 here it may be mentioned, that to the poor of every 
 description, to the wandering beggar at his door, and 
 to distressed objects in the suburbs, he gave liberally 
 and continually. And thus passed his life, for years ; 
 holding no communication with his kind, beyond what 
 a return of mere passing good manners demanded of 
 him ; indeed, never speaking, but when spoken to ; a 
 true hermit, though not of the desert ; a man esteemed 
 and thought well of, though, from year to year, still as 
 much unknown, and as much a mystery to his neigh- 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 83 
 
 bors, ns he had been the first day of his appearance in 
 the street. 
 
 It was more than five years aPier his coming to 
 Irish-town, that, one morning, the Roman Mercliant's 
 shop appeared shut at an unusually late hour. People 
 wondered, but supposed ho had overslept himself. — 
 Hours wore away, and still he was not seen engaged, 
 as usual, in taking down his shutters. They knocked 
 loudly at his door — they tlmndered at it ; no one 
 stirred within. A little alarmed, they began to sur- 
 mise that he might have gone to purchase goods be- 
 fore daybreak, for it was winter-time. 
 
 To ascertain this point, some went to the cabin of 
 an old woman who took care of his ass and cart. The 
 ass and cart were under their shed, in her yard ; of 
 course he had not left the town, as had been su]iposed, 
 as ht never did so without them. Consternation as to 
 his fate took possession of the minds of his neigh- 
 bors. 
 
 Noon came ; night was drawing on ; the authorities 
 of the borough caused his house to be forcibly en- 
 tered ; he was not in it ; he had not slept in his bed 
 the previous night, for it was undisturbed after having 
 been made up. In his little back parlor a humble 
 supper was found laid out, a bottle of water to one 
 hand, his single chair placed to the table, and the 
 ashes of a turfea fire on tlie hearth. All his property 
 seemed untouched. Everything was sealed up, the 
 house again secured, and inquiries set on foot in all 
 directions. 
 
 At about the end of a week, spent in vain searches 
 and conjectures, some youths of the suburbs were 
 amusing themselves, vaulting over the tomb-stones in 
 the churchyard of the cathedral. It was evening, and 
 the winter's moon began to rise, shining ghastly over 
 a light sheet of snow which for some days had cov- 
 ered the ground. They recollected what description 
 of place they were so merry in, and half serious, half 
 in jest, began to banter each others' superstitious mis- 
 givings. One, stepping back in mock terror upon his 
 companions, pointed to a far corner, among the stems 
 of two rows of trees, and said that 'the sperit of the 
 Koman Merchant was watching them.' All took to 
 flight, in laughing confusion, along the narrow path- 
 way, pushing and jostling each other. Two of them 
 slipped on the snow, and fell to one side among the 
 graves. Their kicking and struggling displaced a 
 loose and carelessly heaped mound, and the hand and 
 arm of a man, gloved and clothed, started up between 
 them, cold and stiiiF, from the earth. They were the 
 hand and arm of the Roman Merchant. The fact was 
 established when, by the light of lanterns and torches, 
 a crowd, whom their cries had summoned, disinterred 
 the body. 
 
 It was fully dressed. Even the poor man's hat was 
 found in his ill-made grave. Closer investigation 
 showed that, along with the key of his shop, his pm'se 
 had been left in his pocket, his old-fashioned but valu- 
 able watch in his fob, and a mourning ring, of value 
 too, upon his finger. Tbey touched something hard at 
 his breast ; it was the handle of a dagger, whicli they 
 could not at first pull out, the blade traversed the 
 middle of his heart, and its point appeared at his 
 back. The death-blow had been unerring and vehe- 
 ment, and must have killed him before he could have 
 felt it. 
 
 The Koman Merchant's little abode was again en- 
 tered by competent authority. A more careful and 
 minute search took place in it, after any documents 
 likely to tell who he really was, and who might have 
 been his early friends and connections in a distant land. 
 In the drawer of his desk was found a sealed packet, 
 with a superscription in a foreign language, which 
 none of the persons then present could translate. An 
 old friar, half hiding in the suhurlis, from the enact- 
 ments of the time, was summoned to their councils ; 
 he had been a Salamanca student ; he declared the 
 direction on the back of tho packet, as well as the 
 writing in the body of it, to be Spanish ; and he sup- 
 plied the following translation : first convincing all, 
 that the writing was dated only some days before, 
 from the residence of the murdered man. 
 
 ' To my ruthless and terrible enemy : — 
 
 ' You are upon my track again ! After more than 
 five years of quiet, gained hy successfully eluding you, 
 you are upon my track again ! After escaping you 
 seven times, in the four quarters of the globe, you 
 have hunted mo into this little nook of earth !^I know 
 it — I am sure of it ! Your blood-hound has crossed 
 my path — the subtle devil whom you always sent forth 
 to course after me through deserts and cities, over 
 ihe most silent places, and into the thickest abodes of 
 men, to mark me, and to fix me for your blow. I 
 have once more seen him ! This very day, though, 
 he docs not think it — ay, beneath all his consummate 
 disguises of feature and of person, I know his eye ! — 
 this very day, among a crowd of humble peasants in 
 my little shop, and at the very moment he bargained 
 with me for one of the paltry articles, by the sale of 
 which to them I gain the only bread which you have 
 left me — this very day he and I stood face to face. 
 And now he has gone to tell you he has found me, 
 and you will surely come. Tor the last time! Yes I 
 my relentless enemy ! — my fate ! my destruction- 
 cloud I — already you have cast forward your thick 
 shadow upon me ! 
 
 ' You will come for the last time, I say. Ay, for the 
 last time; because I will not try to baflie you now. 
 Heretofore, I exerted the utmost skill and energy of 
 man to save your soul from future fire (yes — you will 
 die without regretting it !) and my own life from your 
 hand, because I had injured you ! because you were 
 her blood — because she prayed for you to her God in 
 in Heaven, and forgave me — and because, penetrated 
 with a Christian's sorrow for the past, it was my duty 
 as well as my heart's great yearning, to preserve my 
 ^vretched existence from one who had well forewarned 
 me of his thirst to end it. But now, if after five years' 
 time for thouglit, j-ou come — after sending me out, a 
 Cain upon the earth — after taking from me name and 
 rank, fortnne, friends, a country, human kind — after 
 using your power and your sway to disgrace and beg- 
 gar mC' — after trampling me, treading me with your 
 heel, down, down into the dust — if now once more you 
 come, let it be for the last time ! I cannot save you — 
 it is doomed ! Or, perhaps, notwithstanding my un- 
 charitable fear of the sloniness of your fierce heart, per- 
 haps my life alone stands between you and the capa- 
 bility of feeling forgiveness and remorse : perhaps, 
 when you can see me stretched stiff at your feet — per- 
 haps then, and then alone, it is decreed that you may 
 relent — that out of the last or my earthly punishment 
 will grow the first of your earthly repentance. Come, 
 then ! 
 
 ' And yet, have I not already been punished enough? 
 Oh, very hard has been ray life since I injured you ! — 
 That you have sent me out to earn my bread in the 
 sweat of my brow — me, nursed on '_\\\e. very knee of 
 luxury and honor — I count as nothing. So much, at 
 least, I can thank you for. Humility, ia all things, 
 became my quick, and full sense of my sin, and it has 
 been my only solace. But remember ! — your hand 
 has, before now, struck sharp steel into my body; and 
 when you thought I fell to rise no more, whose foot 
 spurned me ? 
 
 ' Yet why remonstrate with you on this paper ? — .you 
 can never read the words I write, nor hear them read, 
 till you hare shed my blood ; and I do write them, on- 
 ly to hint to tlie Christian people who shall find my 
 lifeless body, some shadowy explanation of the cause 
 of my coming death. Give me no praise for suppress- 
 ing your name, and all allusions that might lead to adis- 
 co very of it. An angel — and your child — your only, only 
 child (alas ! alas ! — strike home when you strike next ! 
 I merit it !) — she now watches my heart and its work- 
 ings, and she can feel, if you cannot, why at more than 
 the hazard of a thousand lives, 1 refrain from bringing 
 to disgrace a name that I have already tarnished, 
 through my treacherous love of the brightest creature 
 that ever bore it. If they who shall find this paper 
 ever publish it, then you may further redcet that, with 
 n good omen of your coming, I called not on the arm 
 of justice to shield me from you : but still thank me 
 not, nor on this account alone indulge remorse. Oh, 
 
 may the expressions of sincere sorrow and misery I 
 now give vent to, move you to a more lively regret! 
 and that is a cheering hope. You have never before 
 allowed my voice to reach yon ; you have stopped 
 short my words with execrations boisterous as the r.ag- 
 ing sea ; you have interrupted them by outrage on my 
 person ; you have sent back my letters unopened ; you 
 would have struck down my messenger from me. It 
 is probable, then, that all along, you have believed mo 
 a hard-minded villain, untouched by the result of my 
 own fearful crime. If so; let these, my last protesta- 
 tions, undeceive you. I am penitent ; humbly, crawl- 
 ingly penitent. Come ! — you will not find me raise a 
 hand, an eye, against i/ojir hand, Tjour eye. 
 
 ' I am certain you will be minutely informed of my 
 itsual haunts abroad, in this little place, that so you 
 may surprise me upon a secret spot. Knowing this, it 
 is my resolve to tempt you to a haunt of mine, the 
 most favorable for your purpose. Every night, hence- 
 forward, till the last — my last — I will loiter in a lonely 
 comer of the burial-ground of the cathedral, already, 
 or soon to be, well described to you ; for thither, I am 
 assured, your spy must have watched me repair during 
 my accustomed evening walk ; and there, among the 
 graves, and perhaps standing upon my own, there, in 
 the dark, I will expect you. Not a cry, not a loud 
 word, shall expose you to detection. Come ! — could 
 I avoid you still, I would do it — no matter what words 
 may have here escaped me ; but is there the slightest 
 hope that I can 1 After all that has passed, what cor- 
 ner of the wide earth is able to hide me from his eye, 
 and your hand ? And by walking out in the nights, 
 as is my wont, and in the places I am accustomed to 
 — particularly when you know not that / know — 
 how shall I be accessory to my own death 1 True, I 
 might await you, trebly armed — but against whom ? 
 Ilcr father ! — unutterable horror is in the thought. Ay, 
 come ! — and let the last words I shall hear on earth bo 
 even her name ! Hers growled forth as you will !' 
 
 Thus ended the document. Of that anticipated 
 meeting in the silent churchyard nothing but the result 
 is known. The paper was published, and that it pro- 
 duced some of the effects hoped for by the writer is 
 thought by the good and Christian ; for some six 
 months afterwards, a large wooden case came, directed 
 to the mayor of the city, from Dublin, where it had been 
 imported ; and upon opening it was found a marble 
 urn, with a pedestal, inscribed to 'The Koman Mer- 
 chant.' — Amulet. 
 
 It is a curious fact that the Dutchess of Tyrconnell, 
 the lady of Richard Talbot, lord deputy of Ireland in 
 the reign of James II., after that monarch's abdication, 
 was driven by distress to seek one of the stands in Ex- 
 eter-change, in the Strand, at that time a fashionable 
 place of resort, at which she sold millinerj', the labor 
 of her hours by night, in an obscure apartment in which 
 she slept. It was then the custom of women in pub- 
 lic to wear masks, and the duchess in her little shop, 
 uniformly appeared in a white mask and dress, and 
 was called by the loungers of that d.iy, ' The white 
 widow.' Her rank was accidently discovered, and she 
 had afterwards a pension granted her from the Crown 
 during her life. 
 
 In Clew bay, on the western coast of Ireland, there 
 was formerly an island, called Minish, the surface of 
 which, in the reign of Charles I., was twelve acres in 
 extent, as is proved by several public documents of 
 that period. On being measured in the year 1814, it 
 was found to be only 420 feet long, and 30 broad. In 
 1816, it entirely disappeared. The island of Clare, 
 in the immediate neighborhood, furnishes another ex- 
 ample of the destructive action of the sea on those 
 coasts. Bounded every where by cliflTs of immense 
 height, it is continually corroded by the ocean, which 
 has worn deep caverns, into which, when agitated, it 
 throws immense blocks of stone, detached from the 
 cUffs, with a noise that is quite appalling. 
 
 Man was made to be active, and he is never so hap- 
 py as when he is so ; it is the idle man that ia the mis- 
 erable man. 
 
84 
 
 miSn MISCELLANY. 
 
 ST. PATRICK'S DAY. 
 
 BT M. J. BABRr. 
 
 Ain— ' Si. Palrick'a Day.' 
 I 
 Oh, bltit be tlio days when the gr«en bnnncr floated 
 
 Sublime o'or the raoiiiitalns of lYce luulsfatl; 
 Wheu her fovt» to tier Rlory aucl freedom devoted, 
 Detted the iDvadcr to tread hor 0oil. 
 
 When back o'er the main 
 They chajed the Dane, 
 And garo to religion and learning; their epoll, 
 Wlten valour and miud 
 Toj^ethcr comMucd — 
 nm wherefore lament o'er thojo itlories departed, 
 
 Uor ulnr »lmll yet shine with as vivid a ray ; 
 For ne'er had she children more bravo or true-hearted, 
 Than those sbe uow sce< on St. Patrick's day. 
 
 II. 
 Her sceptre, alas! passed away to the stranger, 
 
 And treason surrendered what valour had held, 
 But true hearts remained amid darkness and danger. 
 Which spite of her tyrants would nor be quelled. 
 Oft, oft, through the night 
 Flashed gleam.i of liuht. 
 ■ffhich almost the darkness of bondage dispelled; 
 But a star now is near, 
 llur heaven to cheer. 
 
 Not like tlic wild gleams which to tltfhlly darted, 
 liut long to shine down with its hallowing ray, 
 
 On daughters as fair, and on sons as Irue.lieartud, 
 As Uriu boliolds ou St. Patrick's Day. 
 
 Oh! blest be the Iiour, when begirt by her cannon, 
 
 And hnil'd as it rose by a nation's applnu^e, 
 That (lug waved aloft o'er the spire of Uungauuon, 
 Asserting for Irishnion Irisli laws. 
 
 Once more shall it wave 
 O'er hearts as brave, 
 Despite of tlie dastards who mock at her cause; 
 And like brothers agreed, 
 Whatever their creed, 
 Her children, Inspired by those glories departed. 
 
 No longer in darkness desponding will litay, 
 But join in her cause, like tho bravo and true-hearted. 
 Who rise for their rights on St. Patrick's day. 
 
 WHAT DOE.S IRELAND WANT ? 
 Sho wants to 'mend her ways." Ho not start, read- 
 er ; sho wants to be cut up ; sho w.ints to bo bisected, 
 and trisected, by roads ; !•^le wants to have the means 
 of intercourse established ; she wants emplDyment for 
 lier poor, and making roads wouM give it them ; she 
 wants canals ; she wants bridges, in sliort, sho wants 
 Uer resources properly dcyeloped. 
 
 But increaiiing the roads and navigations in Ireland 
 will not at once ensure employment and happiness. 
 Very true . but to henl a wound, it is sometimes nec- 
 essary to probe — improvcineiit lias a beginning, us well 
 as a middle and — wu were going to say an end — but 
 improvemint, cither physically or morally, has no end 
 — and without rpads, bridges, and canals, or, if yott 
 please, railroads, Irctaad never cau have her resources 
 developed. 
 
 What does Ireland want 1 
 
 Sho wants the proper investment of Capital. Mind 
 reader, she does not want monei/ ; no — but she wants 
 her money jiroperly employed. Where arc the num- 
 erous little villages, with their mills and their mana- 
 factories, employing the population all rouml about, 
 and sending, by means of the rpL-ned np roads and 
 facilities of interconrsc, their workmnn.-liip down to 
 seaports, and filling and sending off tlic ships in the 
 harbors? \Wiat makes Liverpool a gnat sea-port? 
 Because Manchester, and Bolton, and Wignn, and 
 Oim.skirk, &c. &c. are at her back, and pour down 
 upon her their goods to be shipped off, and keep her in 
 an everlasting bustle. And why should the quays of 
 Dublin, and Cork, and Wateiford, aye, and Belfast, 
 proud as it is, exhibit Utile else but live ci.tilc and 
 
 coals, butter and pork 1 Why may not Ireland send 
 of HER fine spun and woven manufaetures, (the Eng. 
 lish P'lider n ed not snee .) her linen and her woollen, 
 as In thcd lysof ol I, and her harbors be filled with 
 ships from all climes, carrying ofl^ her prodace to all 
 piiru, her sailing vessels skipping before the wind 
 w!ien the wind pleases, and her steamboats flying off, 
 fair weather or foul, and peace and plirnty in tho room 
 of poverty and disturbance, w.ilking over the land! 
 Such are two of the wants of Irel.md, which we 
 triut will soon lie supplied. 
 
 THE BEAUTIES OF Lt'UfiHINE, CARBERRY. 
 COUNTY OF CiiKK. 
 
 The beau'ies of Lou;;liine have been so frequently 
 sung by bards and minstrels that we should not again 
 visit it, only attrac ed by the remnant of nntiqiiiiy 
 which it possesses. The Castle, which stands on the 
 eiistern end of the island, which is situated in tlu.< fine 
 salt water lake was built by the O'DriscolIa. 
 
 The last posscs.sor being nicknamed Lavour 0'- 
 Lynch, he always wore a tuibun, and was shaved only 
 once in the year. His retainers were se'ected one after 
 another for this duty ; but he that performed the op- 
 
 THE HEDGE SCHOOL. 
 
 I cmtion was never .seen !ig.iin. At last, the duty de- 
 volved upon the only son of a widow, and she know- 
 ing the late that awaited her son, by tears and en- 
 treaties, prevailed on O'Lynch to spare her son's life, 
 which he promised to do, binding him (the son) to the 
 .strictest secrecy. lie pel formed the duly, and the re- 
 ! tainers were astonished to see him next day, but the 
 I secret being heavy on him, he lost his peace of mind. 
 On the peninsula of Gloumlirc, nearly opposite the 
 Castle, stands the ruin of a chapel, known as the toum- 
 patc'ir, or the little tcmjile. There ii nothing remark- 
 able about it, save in sweet situation and a few tomb- 
 stones, as it was fi-rmcrly encompiis^ed by a cemetery. 
 A holy hermit inhabited this plncc, and to him the 
 young man went for ad, ice, he desired him to go into 
 ihe >vo(id of Coumaconna, and tell the secret to a tree, 
 which happened to be a fine straight ash. A bard 
 wanting a harp selected this tree for the purpose, but 
 when the harp was finished, the only tune he could play 
 on it wa«, Thauijh dho zioushe co/mt O fxivour 0' Lynch, 
 which translated is, ' Lavour O'Lynch has two horses 
 ears.' So tho spell was broken, and no more ".I he 
 unfortunate retainers were the victims of his secrecy. 
 To tliij day the tune is preserved in this locality, and 
 if you meet a rosy milk-mnid, balancing a pail of milk 
 
 I on her head, she isliammingthetune,or if a rustic bean 
 at the Loughine Regatta hands out his fair belle to the 
 dance, that is the tune she sclcct-i, and for which ho 
 pays the piper. There is nothing remarkable in the 
 portion of the C.tstlc standing at present, one ipioin 
 and two side walls only remaining, and arc fast smoul- 
 dering to decay ; should it be allowed to tumble, it 
 will deprive Loughine of one of its most marked fea- 
 tures. The eastern end of the island is separated from 
 the main by a strait, in which aro two rocks dividing 
 the space into nearly three equal parts, and look like 
 the nbulmenis of a bridge. Lord Carberry, Sir Henry 
 W. Beecher, Bart., and Robert Atkin,=, Esq., are the 
 proprietors of the soil round the lake. A little care, 
 some energy, and a moderate outlay, judiciously op- 
 plied would render this sweet spot the miniature rival 
 of Killarney. Ascending the steep road to Baltimore, 
 we come to the castle of Ardaugh, built by the O'Dris- 
 cidls, situated on a conical hill, which forms one of the 
 tails of Coomaconna, but ccmmanding all the country 
 to Baltimore. There is one quoin and two side walls 
 standing, and its principal attraction is the view which 
 it commands, which might be equalled, but cannot be 
 surpassed. Before you, in a direct line, stands Cape 
 Clear, rising like a stupendous monster from the ocean. 
 
IRISH MISCELLANT. 
 
 85 
 
 and Carberry's hundred isles, which the immortal Da- 
 vis rendered famous in song. The coast to the Miz- 
 en-head with its many indentions, &c. : and, on the 
 headlands, stand the Milesian Castle, like the Moor- 
 ish watch towers on the coast of Spain, Mount Ga- 
 briel's lofty summit towering over, and looking down 
 contemptuously on the adjoining hills, like a tyrant 
 on his serfs. The telegraphic towers along the coast, 
 of recent date, the village of Baltimore and the estu- 
 ary of the Hen, form as line a sulijcct as imaginable 
 for a panorama. The O'Driscolls, who were the 
 founders of those castles, were once a poiverful race in 
 this localiity bat are now all but extinct. — Cork Her- 
 ald. 
 
 OUR FIRST NUMBER. 
 
 Previous to publishing the first number of this paper, wc 
 received such warm assurances of support, that we were in- 
 duced to print, what we, then thought, was a large extra 
 edition. Since then such has been the demand for the JMis- 
 ctllany all over the country that we lind ourselves left with- 
 out a single copy of that number, and we are daily inun- 
 dated with letters from our agents, and new subscribers call- 
 ing for No.l. For instanc,e one agent writes, send one 
 thousand copies of the tirst number and I will guarantee 
 you two thousand additioual subscribers.' Another writes 
 ' let me have one thousand copies of number one,' and 
 auother, insists upon having at least five hundred copies, in 
 order to satisfy the demands made upon him. 
 
 We beg that our agents aud subscribers will have patience 
 for a lew days, and their wants shall all be supplied. We 
 next week republish twenty thousand copies of our tirst 
 number. We shall also have to reprint some of our subse- 
 queut papers, to be able to supply our new subscribers with 
 full sets of the back numbers. The second edition of num- 
 ber one will be ready for delivery with No. 7. Our agents 
 will oblige us by sending in their orders as eariy as pos- 
 sible. 
 
 NEW HAVEN CORRESPONDENCE. 
 
 To the Editor of the Irish Miscellany: — 
 
 I send yeu the following items of events passing in our 
 city, and if worthy ol an insertion, they are at your dispos- 
 al. To begin, your excellent little Miscellany, fates better 
 than any other Irish paper published heretofore! this I have 
 from jhe gentleman who has it for sale; everyone speaks 
 in its praise, and were it more widely known, that such a 
 paper is published, there is not the least doubt that where 
 a hundred copies are sold now, there would be five huu. 
 dred. Now a few words on our own aflairs. The two 
 Irish Benevolent Societies (the Hibernian Trovident and 
 Houtgomery Association) together with a new military or- 
 ganization, called the Emmet Guards, uumbering sixty-one 
 meu, (Whitney muskets) with a new uniform similar to 
 their namesakes of New York, and the Cartmeu's Protect- 
 ive Society, have procured new aud splendid banners, a full 
 description of which I shall forward to j'Ou at a future day. 
 The artist who painted thera, is E. Paul Barnes, a sulEcient 
 guarantee that they are well executed. The Emmet Guards 
 have been presented with a beatiful silk American tlag, by 
 the ladies of New Haven ; may Heaven bless them. You 
 may have a slight idea from the foregoing imperlect sketch 
 that the Irishmen of this city, do not intend to be behind 
 their fellow-countrymen of other cities, in a proper celebra- 
 tiou of the festal day of Ireland's Patron Saint. 
 
 i KILVA. 
 
 New Haven, March 6, 1858. 
 
 PENNY MAGAZINES. 
 Sagacious people say that the present extraordinary de- 
 mand for penny publications will die away; that it is a yi- 
 tjer just approaching its crisi.s — a mania which will soon 
 reach its gradd climacteric. The love of tulips, and the 
 anxiety to possess those that were rare, raged to such an 
 extent in Holland, from the year 16.34 to 1637, that the Dutch 
 of all ranks, from the greatest to the meanest, neglected 
 their occupations, and even mechanics sold their tools, to 
 engage iu the tulip trade. Now, every body almost is engag- 
 ing in thepenny frarff. Iha tulip ■inadness\\?.il to be checked 
 by the Dutch goverment: but no goverment could rule 
 Great Britain, that would attempt to check the sale of I'eu- 
 ny Magazines for the dilTusion of useful or entertaining 
 knowledge, and in the columns of which no attempt is 
 made to infringe upon the e.visting stamp duty regulations. 
 So far from thinking that the demand for these publica- 
 tions will subside, we think it will increase, and that a 
 change will be produced by them upou the state of public 
 feeling as extraoadinary as It will be beneficial. Setting 
 totally aside the great TnoraMnflaence, and the great mental 
 power which they will cxerci'C. let us just see what good 
 they elVect iu the way of creating aruiv trade in the country. 
 Say there arc lorty thousand penny magazines sold iu all 
 Ireland weekly ; (perhaps there aie more) this brings in np 
 
 wards of one hundred and sixty pounds per week, and the 
 prolits resulting from this sum give empIo}'ment not mere- 
 ly to paper makers, to printers and to booksellers, but to a 
 great many honest poor people, who not having a trade, or 
 unable to exei'cise it, through various causes, are finding a 
 moans of subsisfance by hawking the cheap publication. 
 Now, if every gentleman in Ireland were to encourage all 
 his friends, servants, and dependants to buy each, say one a 
 week, there would soon be upwards of an hundred andtifty 
 thousand of the cheap publications, treble the number of 
 poor people would be employed in selling Ihcni, a vast mass 
 of intbrmation would bedifl'used,r/ioug-/ir would be awaken- 
 ed, the public mind would receive a prodigious impulse, 
 and the very face [of society would be changed. — Dublin 
 Penny Journal. 
 
 THE HOUSE or THE ANGEL GUARDIAN. 
 
 Last week we drew attention to the report of this 
 very excellent reformatory and protective institution 
 for boys. On reading over the account of the cash 
 received for the support of ' The House, ' it will be 
 seen, that it is to a certain extent self-supporting. 
 That is, the boys placed under the charge of the Rev. 
 Father Haskins are instructed in choice selections 
 from classic authors, and taught to perform upon va- 
 rious musical instruments, which enables thera to give 
 concerts, recitations, and dramatic reprsentations of a 
 high moral character, for admission to which a small 
 charge is made. The profits thus realised are applied 
 to the supportof the institution, and, thus, it becomes 
 to a certain extent self-supporting. 
 
 On M'^ednesday the 17th, the boys belonging to this 
 institution give one of their pleasing and unique en- 
 tertainments in the Music Hall, consisting of a Tab- 
 leaux of graphic and spirited illustrations of varions 
 episodes in Irish History. The trial of the gallant 
 and devoted young patriot, Robert Emmet, will be 
 performed on the above occasion. Those who wish 
 to see this celebrated trial represented to the life, should 
 not fail in being present. The cruel and bloody mind- 
 ed Judge Norbury will appear in all his infamy of 
 character. We trust to see a crowded hsuse and 
 would advise all to secure their tickets wi.hjut delay. 
 
 'THE HEDGE SCHOOL.' 
 The engraving on the 84th page represents a period 
 in Irish history, which calls to mind the dark and cru- 
 el days when the penal laws were enforced against the 
 professors of the ancient faith in Ireland, with all the 
 ferocity of a Caligula or a Nero. Ireland had long 
 been the school to which those in search of education 
 resorted, for that instruction which was denied them in 
 their own country. The penal laws forbid the educa- 
 tion of the Irish people under the most terrible penal- 
 ties. A more bloody code never disgraced the statute 
 book of the most barbarous nation, than that which 
 England enacted and enforced against the Catholics of 
 Ireland. 
 
 'By 7th, William III — No protestant was allowed 
 to instruct any papist. 
 
 ' By 8tn Anne. — No papist was allowed to instruct 
 any other papist. 
 
 • By 7th William III. — No papist was allowed to be 
 sent out of Ireland to be educated. 
 
 'By 12ih George I. — Any Catholic priest marrying 
 a protestant and papist was to he han^td. 
 
 ' By 2nd Anne.— Any papist priest coining into Ire- 
 land and officiating, to be hanged.' 
 
 In these times it was that a class of devoted men 
 kno^vn as ' Hedge School Masters,' sprung up, who 
 imparted behind a hedj;e, or in some other place where 
 scouts were sent out to watch the approach of the in- 
 former, and give notice of his advance, tliat education 
 which ihey weic forbidden by the cruel code, to impart. 
 The term ' hedge school,' has now become one of re- 
 proach, and is often used with a sneer by the thought- 
 less. It should never be forgotten, tliat the ' hedge 
 schools ' kept the lamp of knowledge burning and dif- 
 fused its light throughout tlie country, at a time when 
 the .-implcst rudiments of education could not be im- 
 parted to the children of Citholics by other means. 
 These school-i should never be spoken of bnt with re- 
 spect and rcvcencc. Thi-y attest, beyond dispute, that 
 inaie love of learning, which characterises the humblest 
 of oiir coanlrymen to this day. 
 
 COBBETT'S COURTSHIP. 
 
 Our readers need not be afraid that when we men- 
 tion Mr. Colilieit's name, we are going to touch upon 
 politics No; if nothing else would prevent us, self- 
 preservation would, and that preserves many a man 
 from doing rash, foolish, or improper things, when 
 every motive else has failed. 
 
 Mr. Cobbett has written a little volume entitled, — 
 ' Advice to young men and women,' in which there is 
 a great deal of good sense and sound reasoning, 
 mingled, of course, with much rigmarole. In that part 
 of it which gives diiections to a lover, he introducea 
 the history of his courtship, which it would be pre- 
 sumptuous to attempt to give in any other but his own 
 words. 
 
 ' When I first saw my wife, she was thirteen yean 
 old, and I was within a month ol twenXy-oiie. She was 
 the daughter of a Serjeant of artillery, and I was tha 
 Serjeant-Major of a regiment of foot, both stationed in 
 forts, near the city of St. John in the Province of 
 New Brunswick. I sat in the same room with her, 
 for about an hour, in company with others, and I 
 made up my mind that she was the very girl for me. 
 That I thought her beautiful is certain, for that I had 
 always said should be an indispensable qualification ; 
 but I saw in her what I deemed marks of that sobriety 
 of conduct of which I have said so much, and which 
 has been by far the greatest blessing of my life. It 
 was now dead of winter, and, of course, the snow 
 several feet deep on the ground, and the weather 
 piercing cold. It was my habit, when I had done my 
 morning's writing, to go out at break of day to take a 
 walk on a hill at the foot of which our barracks lay. — 
 In about three mornings after I had first seen her, I 
 had, by an invitation to breakfast with me, got up two 
 young men to join me in my walk ; and our road lay 
 by the house of her father and mother. It was hardly 
 light, but she was out on the snow, scrubbing out a 
 washing-tub. ' That's the girl for me,' said I, when 
 we had got out of her hearing. One of these young 
 men came to England soon afterwards ; and he who 
 keejis an inn in Yorkshire, came over to Preston, at 
 the time of the election, to verify whether I were the 
 same man. When he found that I was, he appeared 
 surprised ; but what was his surprise, when I told him 
 that those tall youtig men, whom he saw around me, 
 were the sons of that pretty little girl that he and I 
 saw scrubbing out the washing-tub on the snow to 
 New Brunswick at daybreak in the morning ! 
 
 ' From the day that I first spoke to her, 1 never had 
 a thought of her ever being the wife of any other man, 
 more than I had a thought of her being transformed in- 
 to a chest ofdrawers , and I formed my resolution at 
 once, to marry her as soon as we could get permission 
 and to get out of the army as soon as I could. So 
 that this matter was' at once, settled as firmly as if 
 written in the book of fate. At the end of about six 
 months, my regiment, and I along with it, were re- 
 moved to FjtEDEiticiCTON, a distance of a hundred 
 milts, up the river of St. John ; and, which was worse, 
 the artillery were expected to go off to England a year 
 or two before our rciiiment ! The artillery went, and 
 she along witli them; aud now it was I acted a part be- 
 coming a real and sensible lover. I was aware, that, 
 when site got to that gay place, Woolwich, the 
 house of hir father and mother, necessarily visited by 
 nutnerous persons not the most select, might become 
 unpleasant to her, and I also did not like besides, that 
 she shimld continue to worh hard. I had saved a hur\- 
 dred andjifty guineas, the earnings of my ealry hours, 
 in writing for the paymaster, the quartermaster, and 
 others, in addition to the .-avings of my own pay. I 
 si-nt her all my money, belore she sailed ; and wrote to 
 her to beg other, if she found her home uncomfortable, 
 to hire a lodging with respectable people , and at any 
 rate, not to spare the money, by any means, but to buy 
 hersell good clothes, and to live whithout hard work, 
 until I arrived in England; and I, in order to induce 
 her to lay out the money, told her that I should get 
 plenty more before I came home. 
 
 'As the malignity of the devil would have it, we were 
 kept abroad turn years longer than our time, Mr. Pitt 
 (England not being so tame than as she is now) hav- 
 ing knocked up a dust with Spain about Nootka Sound. 
 Oh, how I cursed Nootka Sound, and poor bawling 
 Pitt, too, I am afraid ! At the end of fimr yean, how- 
 ever, home I came ; landed at Portsmouth, and got 
 my discharge from the army by the great kindness ot 
 piior LiiitD Edwabd Fitzgkrald, who was then the 
 Mujiirof my reaimcnt. I found my Intlejiirl iiservant 
 0/' all worh (and baril «'Oik it wns.) at _/itr /)ou)id<ay(ar, 
 in the house of a Captai.v Buihac; and, without haril- 
 ly saying a word about the matter, she put into my 
 haadib tlie whole of my hundred andj\fly guineas mliroktn 1' 
 
^ 
 
 IIIISII MISCELLANY 
 
 IBISH UINSTBELSY. 
 
 THE EillGKAM'.s FAKEWIXL. 
 Tlie luKl bret-io from Kriii 
 
 lltts paiwcil o\t my brow, 
 Tlie gnlB uftliu ocean 
 
 Is over mo now; 
 I lenve thee my conntry! 
 
 Farewell! though thou art 
 The lifi) pulM tliHt »tirs mc, 
 
 Tbu Vbiutf of my hcRrt. 
 
 Kriu mavourueen, farewell! 
 
 I gaze whoro tlio bright Keuo 
 
 FttllH back to the we^it. 
 And tinges the blue clouds 
 
 That hang o'er thy breast: 
 The bark bears me from tbco 
 
 To sail o'er the deep, 
 While on thy grv«n bosom 
 
 1 gaze, — and 1 weep ; 
 
 Erin muvournccn, farewell! 
 
 I weep, for thy spring-timo 
 
 Of beauty is o'er; 
 And feel, while my dinun'd eye 
 
 Is on thy loved shore, 
 Like th« mourner, when fixing 
 
 Uis gaze on the dead, 
 Uc bends o'er the cold earth 
 
 Whose spirit is lied; 
 
 Krin mavourncen, farewell! 
 
 The tear-droopiug willow 
 
 Hangs over thy Iyer, 
 The chill-blast hath broken 
 
 Each soul-stirring wire: 
 Throngh the gloom of thy darkness 
 
 Xo day-beam api)ears ; 
 And thy sweet type' Icrne, 
 
 Is gcmm'd by thy tears; 
 
 Kriu mavourueen, 0Lrewell! 
 
 Farewell! for no longer 
 
 I gtize on thy shore; 
 The mists arc between us, 
 
 I view thee no more! 
 Perhaps to ray country 
 
 I breathe the lust strain; 
 Ferhap^ 1 may never 
 
 Behold thee again ; 
 
 Erin mavoureen, farewell! 
 
 Though in darkness, Icrne, 
 
 Thy sun may have set; 
 Thy emerald bosom 
 
 I ne'er can forget; 
 And while o'er the deep ocean 
 
 The breeze bears my barque. 
 My heart like its billow, 
 
 Ueaved deeply and dark : 
 
 Erin mavourueen, farewell! 
 
 CUKRAN AND TUE iiaLER'S DOG. 
 Carran told me, witli inlinito humor, of an adventure 
 between him and a mastifT, when he was a boy. He 
 had heard somebody say, that any person throwing 
 the skirtti of hu coat over bis head, stooping low, 
 holding out his arms, and crcejiing along backward, 
 might frighten the fiercest dog, and put him to fight. 
 He accordipgly made the attempt on a miller's ani- 
 mal in the neighborhood, who would never let the boys 
 rob the orchard ; but found to his sorrow that he had a 
 dog to deal with who did not care which end of a boy 
 went foremost, so as he could get a bite out of it. ' 1 
 pursaed the instmctions,' said Cnrran ; — ■' and aa I had 
 no eyes save those in front, fancied the mastiff was in 
 full retreat ; but 1 was confoundedly mistaken ; for at 
 the very moment I thought myself victorious, the en- 
 emy attacked my rear, and having got a reasonably 
 good mouthful out of it, was fully prcparod to take 
 another before I was rescued.' — Bamngton's SkeltJtes. 
 
 Pack tsur Thoughts. — Do not assume that, be- 
 cause you have something important to communicate, 
 it is necassar}- to write a long article. A tremendous 
 thought may be packed into a small compass — made 
 as solid as a cannon-ball' and like the prorjcotile, cut 
 all down before it. ' Ye who write for this busy age,< 
 Bays a late writer, 'speak quick ; use short sentences 
 never stop the reader with a long or ambiguous word ; 
 but let the stream of thought flow right on, and men 
 will drink it like water.' 
 
 LEOBNDS AND STOBIES OFIBBLANO. 
 Tin; LANDLOKU AND TENANT. 
 
 AN AUTIIE.NTIO STOUT. 
 [CONCLDDKU.] 
 
 He hail now reached the verge of the grave-yard. 
 Its tine old ruin stood there as usnal, but not altogether 
 without the symptoms of change. Some persons hud, 
 for the purposes of building, thrown down one of the 
 most picturesque walls. Still its ruins clothed with 
 ivy, its muUions moss-covered, its gothic arches and 
 tracery, grey with ago, were the same in appearance as 
 he had ever seen them. 
 
 On entering this silent palace of Death, he icvcrently 
 uncovered his head, blessed himself, and, with feelings 
 deeply agitated, sought the grave of his beloved child. 
 lie approached it ; but a sudden transition from sor- 
 row to indignation took place in his mind, even before 
 he roncliad the spot on which she lay. ' Sacred Moth- 
 er!' he excluimcd, ' who has dared to l)ury in our ground ! 
 Who has — what villain has attempted to come in upon 
 the M'Carthys — upon the M'Carthy Mores, of Tubber 
 
 Dcrg 1 Who could — had 1 no friend to prcv eh ? 
 
 Sacred Mother, what's this ? Father of heaven forgive 
 me ! Forgive me, sweet Saviour, for this bad feelin, I 
 got into ! Who — who — could raise a headstone over 
 the darlin' o' my heart, widout one of us knowin' it ! 
 Who — who could do it ? But let me see if I can make 
 it out. Oh, who could do this blessed thing, for the 
 poor an' the sorrowful i' lie began, and with difficulty 
 read as follows : — 
 
 HEnE LIES THE DODY OP 
 
 ALICE M'CARTHY, 
 
 The beloved daughter of Owen and Kathleen M'Carthy, 
 
 aged nine years. She was descended from 
 
 the M'Carthy Jlores. 
 
 HEQUIESCAT IN PACE. 
 
 This head-Stone was raised over her by -ividow Murray, 
 
 and her son, James Murray, out of grateful respect 
 lor Owen and Kathleen M'Carthy, who never 
 suflered the widow and orphan, or a dis- 
 tressed neighbor, to crave assistance 
 from them in vain, until it pleas- 
 ed God to visit them with 
 aflliction. 
 
 ' Thanks to you, my Saviour !' said Owen, dropping 
 on his knees over the grave. ' Thanks an' praise be to 
 your holy name, that in the middle of all my poverty 
 — I was not forgotten ! nor my darlin' child let to lie 
 widout honor in the grave of her family! Make me 
 worthy, blessed Heaven, of what is written down upon 
 me here ! An' if the departed spirit of her tluit honor- 
 ed the dust of my buried daughter is unhappy, oh, let 
 her be relieved, an' let this act be remimbered to her! 
 Bless her son, too, gracious Father, an' all belongin' to 
 her on this earth ! an', if it be your holy will, let them 
 never know distress, or poverty, or wickedness !' 
 
 He then olfered up a Pater Noster for the repose of 
 his chiM's soul, and another for the kind-hearted and 
 grateful willow Jlurray, after which he stood to ex- 
 amine the grave with greater accuracy. 
 
 There was, in fact, no grave visible. The little 
 mound, under which lay what was once such a touch- 
 ing image of innocence, beauty, and feeling, had sunk 
 down to the level of the earth about it. He regix'tted 
 this inasmuch as it took away, he thought, part of her 
 individuality. Still he knew it was the spot wherein 
 she had been buried, and with much of that vivid feel- 
 ing, and strong figurative language, inseparable from 
 the habits of thought and language of the old Irish 
 families, he delivered the mother's message to the in- 
 animate dust of her once beautiful and heart-loved 
 child. He spoke in a broken voice, for even the men- 
 tion of her name aloud, over the clay that contained 
 her, struck with a fresh burst of sorrow upon his heart 
 
 ' Alley,' he exclaimed in Irish, ' Alley, nliien ma- 
 chree, your father that loved you more nor he loved any 
 other human craythur, brings a message to you from 
 the mother of your heart, avoumeen ! She bid me call 
 to sec the spot where you're lyin', my buried flower, 
 an' to tell you that we're not now, thanks be to God, 
 
 as wc wor whin you lived wid us. We arc well to do 
 now, ucushlti ixje imuhrte, au' not iu hunger, an' sick- 
 ness, an' misery, as we wor whin you sutVered thom 
 nil I You will love to hear this, pulse of our hearts, 
 an' to know that, through all we sullered — an' biithor- 
 ly wc did sutler since you departed — we never let yon 
 out of our memory. No, ustliore viUish, we thought of 
 you, an' cried afthcr our poor dead flower, many an' 
 maiiy's the time. An' she bid mc tell you, darlin' of 
 my heart, that we feel nothiu' now so much as that you 
 arc not wid us to share our comfort an' our Imppinesg. 
 Oh, what wouldn't the mother give to have you back 
 wid her; but it can't be — an' what wouldn't I give to 
 have you befoie my eyes agin, in health an' in life— 
 but it can't be. The lovin' mother sent this message 
 to you. Alley. Take it from her; she bid me tell you 
 that wc are well an' happy ; our name is pure, and like 
 yourself, widout spot or stain. Won't you pray for 
 us before God, an' get him an' his blessed Mother to 
 look on us wid favor an' compassion ? Farewell, Al- 
 ley asthore ! Alay you sleep in peace, an' rest on the 
 breast of your great Father in Heaven, until we all 
 meet in happiness together. It's your father that's 
 spakin' to you, our lost flower; an' the hand that often 
 smoothed yourgoolden head is now upon your grave.' 
 
 He wiped his eyes as he concluded, and, after lift- 
 ing a little of the clay from her grave, he tied it care- 
 fully u]), and put it into his pocket. 
 
 Having left the grave-yard, he retraced his steps to- 
 wards Frank Farrell's house. The sun had risen, and 
 as Owen ascended the larger of the two hills which we 
 have mentioned, he stood attain to view the scene that 
 stretched beneath hira. About an hour before all was 
 still ; the whole country lay motionless, as if the land 
 had been the land of the dead. The mountains, in the 
 distance, were covered with the thin mists of morning ; 
 the milder and richer parts of the landscape had ap- 
 peared in that dim grey distinctness which gives to 
 distant objects such a clear outline. With the excep- 
 tion of the blackbird's song, everything seemed oi if 
 stricken into silence ; there was not a breeze stirring ; 
 both animate and inanimate nature reposed ns if in a 
 trance ; the very trees appeared asleep, and their leaves 
 motionless, as if they had been of marble. But now 
 the scene was changed. The sun had flung its splen- 
 dor upon the mountain-tops, from which the mists 
 were tumbling in broken fragments to the valleys be- 
 tween them. A thousand birds poured their songs 
 upon the ear; the breeze was up, and the columns of 
 smoke from the farm-houses and cottages jjlayed, as if 
 in frolic, in the air. A white haze was beginning to 
 rise from the meadows ; early teams were afoot ; and 
 laborers going abroad to their employment. The lakes 
 ii the distance shone like mirrors ; and the clear springs 
 on the mountain sides glittered in the sun, like gems 
 on which the eye could scarcely rest. Life, and light, 
 and motion, appear to be insepirable. The dew of 
 morning lay upon nature like a brilliant veil, realising 
 the beautiful image of Horace, as applied to woman : 
 Vultusnimium lubricus aspici. 
 
 Bv-and-bv the songs of thu early workmen were 
 heard; Nature had awoke; and Owen, whose heart 
 was strongly, though unconsciously, alive to the influ- 
 ence of natural religion, participated in the general 
 elevation of the hour, and sought with freshened spir- 
 its the house of his entertainer. 
 
 As he entered this hospitable roof, the early industry 
 of his friend's wife presented him with a well swept 
 hcartli and a pleasant lire, belore which had been placed 
 the identical chair that they bad appropriated to his 
 own use. Frank was enjoying ' a blast o' the pipe," 
 after having risen ; to which luxury the return of Owen 
 gave addiiional zest and placidity. In fact, Owen's 
 presence communicated a holiday spirit to the family ; 
 a spirit, too, which declined not for a moment during 
 the period of his visit. 
 
 ' Frank,' said Owen, 'to tell the thruth, I'm not half 
 plascd wid you this mornin'. I think you didn't Uirate 
 me OS I ought to expect to be thrated.' 
 
 ' Musha, Owen M'Carthy, how is that 7' 
 
 • Why, you said nothin' about widow Murray raisin' 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 87 
 
 a head-stone over oar chilJ. You kop me in the dark 
 there, Friink, an' sich a start I never got as I did this 
 mornin', in the grave-yard bcyant.' 
 
 ' Upon my sow], Owen, it wasn't my fiiu't, nor any 
 of our fall' ts ; for, to tell you the thrnth, we had so 
 raiu'h to think and di'icooise of last night, that it never 
 sthruck me, good or bad. Indeed it was Bridget that 
 put it tirst in my head, afther you wint out, an' thin it 
 was too late. Ay, poor woman, the dacent strain was 
 ever in her, the licavens be her bed !' 
 
 ' Frank, if any one of lier family was to abuse me 
 till the dogs wouldn't liek my blood, I'd only give 
 them back good for evil afther that. Oh, Frank, that 
 goes to my heart ! To put a head-stone over my weeny 
 goolden-haired darlin', for the sake of the little thrifles 
 I sarved thiin in ! Well ! — may none belonging to her 
 ever know poverty or hardship ! but if they do, an' that 
 
 I have it . How-au'-iver, no matther, God bless 
 
 thim ! Wait till Kathleen hears it !' 
 
 'An' the best of it was, Owen, that she never ex- 
 pected to sec one of your faces. But, Owen, you think 
 too much about that child. Let us talk of something 
 else. You've seen Tubber Derg wanst more f 
 
 ' I did ; an' I love it still, in spite of the state it's 
 in.' 
 
 'Ah ! it's different from what it was in your happy 
 days. I was spakin' to Bridget about the farm, an' 
 she advises us to go, widout losin' a minute, an' take 
 it if we can.' 
 
 ' It's near this place I'll die, Frank. I'd not rest in 
 my grave if I wasn't berrid among my own ; so we'll 
 take the farm if possible.' 
 
 ' Well, then, Bridget, hurry the breakfast, avourneen; 
 an' in the name o' goodness, we'll set out, an' clinch 
 the business this very day.' 
 
 Owen, as we said, was prompt in following up his 
 determinations. After breakfast they saw the agent 
 and his father, for both lived together. Old Rogerson 
 had been intiraaiely acquainted with the M'Carthy's, 
 and, as Frank had anticipated, used his influence with 
 the agent in procuring for the son of his old friend and 
 acquaintance the farm which he sought. 
 
 'Jack,' said the old gentleman, 'you don't probably 
 know the history and character of the Tubber Derg 
 M'Cartliys, so well as I do. No man ever required the 
 written bond of a M'Carthy ; and it was said of them, 
 and is said still, that the widow and orphan, the poor 
 man or the stranger, never sought their assistance in 
 vain. I, myself, mil go security, if necessary, for 
 Owen M'Carthy.' 
 
 'Sir,' replied Owen, 'I'm thankful to you; I'm 
 
 grateful to you. But I wouldn't lake the farm or bid 
 
 for it at all, unless I could bring forrid enough to 
 
 stock it as I wish, an' to lay in all that's wantin' to 
 
 work it well. It 'ud be useless for me to take it — to 
 
 struggle a year or two — impoverish the land— an' thin 
 
 run away out of it. No, no ; I have what'll put me 
 
 •jpon it wid dacency an' comfort.' 
 
 ' Then, since my father has taken such an interest 
 
 I you, M'Carthy, you must have the farm. We shall 
 
 ^t leases prepared, and the business completed in a 
 
 fv days, for I go to Dublin on this day week. — 
 
 Ither, 1 now remember the character of this family ; 
 
 aj I remember, too, the sympathy which was felt for 
 
 01 of them who was harshly ejected, about seventeen 
 
 ori<rhieen years ago, out of the lands on which his 
 
 fofathers had lived, I understand, for centuries.' 
 
 am that man, sir,' returned Owen. ' It's too long 
 a sry to tell now ; but it was only out o' part of the 
 Ian', sir, that I was put. What I helil was but a 
 poopatch compared to what the family held in my 
 gratfather's time. A great part of it went out of our 
 ham at his death.' 
 
 ' Iwas very kind of you, Misther Rogerson, to 
 offer) go security for hiui, said Frank; 'but if secu- 
 rity vs wantin', sir, I'd not be willin' to let anybody 
 but I'self back him. I'd go all I'm worth in the 
 world-an' by my sowl, double as much — for the same 
 man.' 
 
 ' I bw that, Frank, an' I thank you ; but I could 
 put serity in Mr. Rogerson's hands, here, if it was 
 wantei Good mornin' an' thank you both, gintle- 
 
 men. To tell yez the thrulh,' he added, with a smile, 
 I long to be among my ould friends — manin' the 
 people and the hills, an' the green fields of Tubber 
 Derg — an' thanks be to Goodness, sure I will soon.' 
 
 In fact, wherever Owen went, within tlie bounds of 
 his native parish, his name, to use a significant phrase 
 of the people, was before him. His arrival at Frank 
 FarreU's was now generally known by all his ac- 
 quaintances, and the numbers who came to see him 
 were almost beyond belief. During the two or three 
 successive days, he went amongst his old 'cronies,' and 
 no sooner was his arrival at any particular house inti- 
 mated, than the neighbors all flocked to him. Scythes 
 were left idle, spades were stuck in the earth, and 
 work neglected for the time being ; all crowded about 
 him with a warm and friendly interest, not proceeding 
 from idle curiosity, but from affection and respect for 
 the man. 
 
 The interview between him and widow Murray's 
 children was afl'ecting. Owen felt deeply the delicate 
 and touching manner in which they had evinced their 
 gratitude for the services he had rendered them ; and 
 young Murray remembered, with a strong gush of 
 feeling, the distresses under which they lay when 
 Owen had assisted them. Their circumstances, ow- 
 ing to the strenuous exertions of the widow's eldest 
 son, soon afterwards improved ; and, in accordance 
 with the sentiment of hearts naturally grateful, they 
 had taken that method of testifying what they felt. 
 Indeed, so well had Owen's unparalleled affection for 
 his favorite child been known, that it was the general 
 opinion about Tubber Derg that her death had broken 
 his heart. 
 
 ' Poor Owen ! he's dead,' they used to say ; ' the 
 death of his weeny one, while he was away in Dublin, 
 gave him the finishin' blow. It broke his heart.' 
 
 Before the week had expired, Owen had the satis- 
 faction of depositing the lease of his new farm, held at 
 a moderate rent, in the hands of Frank Farrell ; who, 
 tying it up along with his own, secured it in the 'black 
 chest.' Nothing remained now but to return home 
 forthwith, and communicate the intelligence to Kath- 
 leen. Frank had promised, as soon as the Lacys 
 should vacate the house, to come with a long train of 
 cars, and a number of his neighbors, in order to tranS' 
 fer Owen's family and furniture to bis new dwelling 
 Everything, therefore, had been arranged, and Owen 
 had nothing to do but hold him.self in readiness for 
 the welcome arrival of Frank and his friends. 
 
 Owen, however, had no sense of enjoyment when 
 not participated in by his beloved Kathleen. If he 
 felt sorrow, it was less as a personal feeling than as a 
 calamity to her. If ho experienced happiness, it was 
 doubly sweet to hira as reflected from his Kathleen. — 
 AU this was mutual between them. Kathleen loved 
 Owen precisely as he loved Kathleen. Nor let our 
 readers suppose that such characters arc not in humble 
 Ufe. It is in humble life, where the springs of feeling 
 are not corrupted by dissimulation and evil knowl- 
 edge, that the purest, and lenderest, and strongtst 
 virtues are to be found. 
 
 As Owen approached his home, he could not avoid 
 contrasting the circumstances of his return now with 
 those under which, almost broken-hearted after his 
 journey to Dublin, he presented Jiimself to his sorrow- 
 ing and bereaved wife about eighteen years before. — 
 He raised his hat and thanked God for the success, 
 which had, since that period, attended him, and im- 
 mediately after his silent thanksgiving, entered the 
 house. 
 
 His welcome, our readers may bo assured, was ten- 
 der and aflFectionate. The whole family gathered 
 about him, and, on his informing them that they were 
 once more about to reside on a farm adjoining to their 
 beloved Tubber Derg, Kathleen's countenance bright- 
 ened, and the tear of delight gushed to her eyes. 
 
 ' God be praised, Owen,' she exclaimed; 'we will 
 have the ould place afore our eyes, an' what is bet- 
 tlier, we will be near where Alley is lyin'. But that's 
 true, Owen,' she added, 'did you give the light of our 
 hearts the mother's message V 
 
 Owen paused, and his features were slighily over- 
 shadowed, but only by the solemnity of the feeling. 
 
 'Kathleen,' said he, 'I gave her your message; 
 but, avourneen, I have sthrange news for you, about 
 Alley.' 
 
 ' What, Owen 1 What is it, acushla 1 Tell me 
 quick !' 
 
 ' The blessed child was not neglected ; no, bnt she 
 was honored in our absence. A headstone was put 
 over her, an' st.ands there purtily this minute.' 
 
 ' Mother of Glory I Owen.' 
 
 ' It's thrnth. Widow Murray an' her son Jemmy 
 put it up, wid words upon it that brought tears to my 
 eyes. Widow Murray is dead, but her childher'a 
 doin' well. May God bless and prosper them, an' 
 make her happy !' 
 
 The delighted mother's heart was not proof against 
 the widow's gratitude, expressed, as it had been, in a 
 manner so affecting. She rocked herself to and fro in 
 silence, whilst the tears fell in showers down her 
 cheeks. The grief, however, which this afliectionate 
 couple felt for their child, was not always such as the 
 reader has perceived it to be. It was rather a revival 
 of emotions that had long slumbered, but never died ; 
 and the associations arising from the journey to Tub- 
 ber Derg, had thrown them back, by the force of 
 memory, almost to the period of her death. At times, 
 indeed, their imagination had conjured her up strong- 
 ly, but the present was an epoch in the history of their 
 sorrow. 
 
 There is little more to be said. Sorrow was soon 
 succeeded by cheerfulness and the glow of expected 
 pleasure, which is ever the more delightful as the 
 pleasure is pure. In about a week their old neighbors, 
 with their carts and cars, arrived ; and before the day 
 was closed on which Owen removed to his new resi- 
 dence, he found himself once more sitting at his own 
 hearth, among the friends of his youth, and the com- 
 panions of bis maturer years. Ere the twelvemonth 
 elapsed, he had his house perfectly white, and as near- 
 ly resembling that of Tubber Derg in its better days 
 as possible. About two years* ago we saw him one 
 evening in the month of June, as he sat on a bench 
 beside the door, singing with a happy heart, his favor- 
 ite song of 'Co/ten dhas croolha na mo.' It was about 
 an hour before sunset. The house stood on a gentle 
 eminence, beneath which a sweep of green meadow 
 stretched away to the skirts of Tubber Derg. Around 
 him was a country naturally fertile, and in spite of 
 the national depression, still beautiful to contem- 
 plate. 
 
 Kathleen and the two servant-maids were milking, 
 and the whole family were assembled about the door. 
 
 ' Well, ehildher,' said the father, ' didn't I tell yez 
 the bitther mornin' we left Tubber Derg, not to cry or 
 be disbearteufd — that ' there was a good God above, 
 who might do somethin' for us yet.' I never did give 
 up my trust in Him, an' I never will. You see, afther 
 all our little troubles, he has wanst more brought us 
 together an' made us happy. Praise an' glory to his 
 name !' 
 
 I looked at him as he spoke. He had raised his 
 eyes to heaven, and a gleam of elevated devotion, per- 
 haps worthy of being called sublime, irradiated his 
 features. The sun, too, in setting, fell upon his broad 
 temples and iron-grey locks, wiih a light solemn and 
 religious. The efl'ect to me, who knew his noble char- 
 acter, and all that he had sull'ered, was as if the eye 
 of God then rested upon the decline of a virtuous 
 man's life with approbation ; — as if he had lifted up 
 the glory of his countenance upon him. Would that 
 many of his thoughtless countrymen had been pres- 
 ent ! They might have blushed for their crimes, and 
 been content to learn wisdom at the feet of Owen 
 M'Carthy. 
 
 • It is unnecessary to add, that years have passed since 
 this date was given. 
 
 A burial society has been recently commenced in a 
 Northern county, the first printed article of which runs 
 thus. ' That, whereas many persons find it difficult to 
 
 bury THEMgELVES.' 
 
18 
 
 IKlSn MIS<:ELLA^•T. 
 
 ANECDO'l'lC OK JOHN I'lllLPOT CL'KKAN. tlie Immlsol il t- laiiill. ni ul'tlic piihlio hnuve iit whirli ; 
 
 The folloniiig nnertloto wo hvard rdnU'd ninny hu iiti>|>|u'il. Iliivin;; (jc<'n>iun forit »liurily nfiorwarilB, 
 
 Team a^o ; but ns it ba:i l>'eii liroiiKlit turwuul in he rcxorU'il to niiiir lioit for pHviutnt. But thu land- 
 
 * Rni^r'd Tn)>le Tulk,' anil rs it may hCDnvi to llie loril, mo dci-p (cr the coiinirjninn, wundcrrd nt 
 
 niiijoritv of pur rrniUTi, wvfiiTc it htr« : what he nicnni, nni) nus i|iiitc tnro no sach rum hnd 
 
 ' A fiirnicr iilliiiilinK II fiiir wiili ft hundrrd poniidd over hcen lU'po.-lli'd in U'ti hanin by the astonished 
 
 in hU poo' ot. Ill' k ilii' r'" ■'"''' '" of diposiiini; it in riiHiic. After incftcclnal appciils to the recoUecion, 
 
 nnd liiiuijy to tlic honor of Burdulph, the farmer ap- 
 l>licd to Curriin fur advice. 
 
 ' Have paiience, my friend,' said the connsel. 
 ' Spcuk to tlio landhinl civilly ; tell him you have left 
 your money with some other person. Take a friend 
 with you, and lodjjo with him another hundred in the 
 preHence ef your friend, and come lo me.' 
 
 ' He did FO, and retnmcd to Iiis Ii-jjal friend. 
 
 ' And now I can't sec how I am to l>e il;e belter oft' , 
 fer this, if I get my second hundred back agiu ; but j 
 how it th It 'o be done f ' ' 
 
 ' Go ask him fur it when he is alone,' said the j 
 counsel- 
 
 ' Ay, sir, asking \-ont d«, I'm afraid.' 
 
 1) ii U \V XING T H K SHAMROCK. 
 
 ' Xever mind — take ror advice,' said the counsel ; friend wirh yon, nnd .isk the lundlord for the Iiundd 
 ' do as I hid you, and return to me.' ! pounds your friend saw you leave with him. 
 
 ' The farmer returned wiih his huiidrtd, elad to firid I < mr. " „,i _„. . , j ,■ ' ,l -i t ji j r j- 
 ,,,.,. '" I » e need not add that the wilv landlord foundie 
 
 that safeiT m hi» possession. 
 
 •Xow.'air, I must be content, but I don't see as I ; """J ''«<•" taken ofl; his guard while our honest frid 
 
 i am better off." 
 
 rotorned to thank his cunnsci, exul iog'y, with Ih 
 
 'Well, then," said ihe eonn^el, 'now tdka yonr . hundreds in his pocket.' 
 
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 UOME. tn»icb20 I lestinc and conseerattd the flrtt bishop of the Irish. Ho 
 
 THE DAY WE CELEBRATE. 
 Before this number of the Irish Miscellany will have 
 reached the hands ot our distant readers, the annual fea.st 
 of Ireland's Patron Saint will be celebrated, not only in 
 Ireland, but in every civilized nation on the globe where 
 the weary foot of an Irish exile treads. On the 17th of 
 March, in the year of our Lord 405, St Patrick, the chosen 
 Apostle of God, g!ive up his spirit into the hands of its 
 Creator and went to receive the reward of the just. 
 
 The birth-place of St. Patrick was, for a time, a matter of 
 much dispute. Some writers claimed that he was a native 
 Iri.shman, others that he was born in Wales, and Scotland 
 also claimed the honor of his birth, as .she claimed that of 
 0.«.«ian and Fin M'Cumhal. According to Moore and other 
 modern authors, there can be no doubt, and, indeed, it is 
 not now denied that Patrick was born in that part of 
 France which is called Boulogne. His father was Cal- 
 phurn, or Calphornius, supposed by some to be of Roman 
 descent, and by others, to be descended from the Jewish 
 captives, brought to Rome by Titus, after the destruction of 
 Jerusalem, Anno Domini 70. He held a political office 
 which he afterwards abandoned, and entering into holy 
 orders, became a deacon. The mother of Patrick was Con- 
 che.s.sa, a native of France, but of her family connections 
 the annals arc silent. The original name of the Saint was 
 Succath, but when the Pope conferred upon him the Patri- 
 cian order, the title of Patricius supplanted his previous 
 name. 
 
 With regard to the period of St. Patrick's birth there has 
 been much diversity of opinion; as well as to the number 
 of years he lived. Usher contends that he lived 120 years, 
 and that he died A. D. 493. Colgan agrees with Usher as to 
 the year of his death, but places his birth on the 5th of 
 April, 373: while Moore, in bis history of Ireland, sets 
 down his death as we have above stated, in the year 465. 
 
 In the year 403, Niall of the nine hostages. King of Ire- 
 land, after ravaging the coast of Britain, plundered the sea- 
 hoard of Caul and captured two hundred natives in the 
 vicinity of Boulogne. Among his prisoners was Patrick, 
 who, with the other captives, was sent in triumph to Ire- 
 land, where St. Patrick was sold, as a slave to four broth- 
 ers, one of whom, Milcho, attracted by the fidelity with 
 wliich he performed the duties of his humble station, had 
 him assigned to his exclusive control. Milcho resided in 
 Dalaradia.in the county of Antrim, and here the future 
 Apostle tended the sheep of his master. Doomed to soli- 
 tude and slavery in a strange land, he wept over the torpid- 
 ity of his early youth, and began to appreciate the blessings 
 which the Almighty had hitherto poured upon him. Speak- 
 ing of his captivity, hc.'^avs, 'the Lord made me sensible of 
 my incredulity, that I might, though late, call to mind my 
 transgressions and be converted to the Lord my God, who 
 hath regarded my humility and pitied my youth and my 
 ignorance. I daily tended the flocks, and during the day 
 prayed fervently. The mountain, now called Slicbh-Miss, 
 or the Mountain of the Moon, was my favorite resort for 
 meditation and prayer.' After seven years' slavery, St. 
 Patrick returned to France and was received with joy by 
 his family. Shortly afterward he was a second time made 
 captive by marauders who infested the confines of Gaul, for 
 the purpose of carrying off prisoners, that they might pro- 
 cure money for their ransom. His second captivity, how- 
 ever, lasted only about two months. 
 
 Having enjoyed the society of his parents for some time, 
 he repaired to the famous seminary of St. Martin, at Tours, 
 for the purpose of receiving that education from which he 
 had been excluded during his captivity. After four years 
 spent at Tours, under the pious care and instruction of St. 
 Martin, and twenty years in study and meditation in retreats 
 of piety, lie repaired to liome with recommendations from 
 St. Germain to Pope St. Cclestine, who then filled the 
 chair of St. Peter. Ireland was still in his mind, sleeping 
 and waking, and in a dream, as ho informs us in his Can- 
 fissions, he saw a mcpscngcr bearing in his hand a scroll on 
 which was written 'The voice of the Irish.' 
 I'alladius, a deacon or archdeacon of the Roman church, 
 ng distinguished himself by hie labor to deliver Brit 
 
 repaired to Ireland accompanied by other learned and 
 pious missionaries of whose names we find recorded those 
 of Sylvester, Solonius, Augustine and Benedict. Ho 
 landed in -the ncghborhood of Wexford, in the year 4.31, 
 the same year in which he left Rome. He baptized somo 
 converts and erected three churches, viz; that of Call-fine, 
 in which he deposited the sacred reliquca of Saints Peter 
 and Paul, which he brought from Rome; another called 
 Domnachard, all of which arc supposed to have stood in 
 what is now the county of Wicklow. 
 
 P.alladius was denounced to the reigning sovereign as 'a 
 dangerous person,' aud unable to resist the violence of tho 
 enemies of Christianity was compelled to abandon the 
 country, leaving behind him some of his associates to tako 
 chjirge of his new converts. The year of the arrival of 
 Palladius was also the year of his departure. Taking pas- 
 sage he sailed from Ireland, and after a tempestuous voyage 
 he lauded in Britain with the intention of proceeding to 
 Rome. This was, however, willed otherwise, and he died at 
 Fordun, in the district of Mearus, in Scotlaiid. 
 
 While in some countries Pagani.^m pro.-cribed ordinances 
 of a cruel and sanguinary character, Ireland seems to have 
 practised her superstitions and idolatries without the revolt- 
 ing practices which Paganism elsewhere observed. The an- 
 cient Irish worshipped the sun as Eel, whose rites they cel- 
 ebrated m a grove of oaks, called ' The Field of Adoration' 
 which was situated in the county Leitrim. 
 
 The veneration of fire held an important place in the Irish 
 as well as in the Eastern ritual. The original religion of 
 the Irish was Sabinu, which begun in Chaldea uud"spread 
 into Scythia, Media and Persia. Palladius was not des- 
 tined to uproot this gro.ss superstiliou and idolatry 
 
 'Not to Palladius' says the old Irish proverb, ' but to Pat- 
 rick did God grant the conversion of Ireland.' 
 
 Having left our illu.^trious saint at Rome, we will now re- 
 turn to him. The object of his visit to the head of the 
 Christian church was doubtless for the purpose of procur 
 ingthe assent of the Holy Father to his contemplated mis- 
 sion to his beloved people of Ireland. Having received the 
 benediction of Pope St. Celestine, St. Patrick was directed 
 to proceed to Ireland. He started upon his journey and 
 having reached Gaul, he there learned of the death of hia 
 predecessor Palladius. It now become neces.sary that he 
 should receive episcopal consecration, which, after much 
 opposition on the part of his friends, 
 by Bishop Amatorix 
 
 conferred upon 
 Evreux, in Normandy. 
 In 432, St. Patrick landed in Ireland. Some of his biog 
 raphers state that he first landed in Wicklow, while others 
 contend that Dublin was the port first dignified with the 
 presence of the Apostle, and where he first comenced his 
 mission. Being unsuccessful in his labors, he left Dublin 
 and proceeded to the scene of his ca 
 holy desire of bringing his for 
 
 Christ. 
 
 ptivity moved by the 
 master into the fold of 
 
 Our space will not permit us to follow our Apostle thro' 
 the scene of his labors, or dwell upon the miracles he 
 wrought, or the number and distinction of theconverts lie 
 brought into the knowledge of salvation. Nor is this ne 
 cessary. The success of his Apostolic labors are so well 
 known, and must he so familiar with our readers, as to 
 render such a narrative a work of supe 
 
 The designs of Heaven accomplished 
 
 ation. 
 the conversion of 
 
 the Irish, he received the holy viaticum from the hands of 
 Tassack, Bishop of Rathcolpa, at Saul, ne.ir Down where 
 he departed this life on AVednesday, the 17th of March A 
 D. 465, just thirteen hundred and ninety -three years a 
 
 His remains were interred in Downpatrick, nea/ the 
 place where he tended the sheep of liis master. 
 'In Down, three saints one grave do fill — 
 Patrick, Bridget, and Coiumb Kille.' 
 
 Here his sacred ashes rested-and here to his shrine did 
 the faithful bring their pious offerings to adorn it till the 
 reign of Henry VIII, when his tomb was plundered of its 
 venerable relics including his crozier or ' stafl' of Jesus' 
 by which it is said he performed his miracles ' 
 
 This, then, is the day that Ireland's children celebrate in 
 every part of the world. 
 
 On this day the wandering exile revisits in spirit the 
 scenes of his childhood, and dwells in fondness unon those 
 holy meteoric., which can be obliterated from his loving 
 mmd by death only. Let us, then spend this day in a man- 
 ner which will reflect credit upon ourselves and upon the 
 
 ntry whose great Festival it is. 
 We are glad to see that in this festival in past years, the 
 hollow, insincere and fulsome adulations of political dem- 
 agogueism has been banished from the festive board and 
 we hope they will never be permitted again in any Irish 
 Society. The bitter lessons which the fell demou of know 
 nothmgism have taught us, of the insincerity of mere po 
 liticians, should not be forgotten. Such men use us oulv 
 for their own aggrandizement, and are the first to scoff 
 at and abuse us, when their objects have been accom 
 plished. Let such men be kept from us. Let us teach 
 them that they can no longer use our people to promote 
 their own evil purpo.ses. Let ns ou this dav iueiiIr„.o 
 lessons of self-rospect, of self-reliance; as the" surest aid 
 indeed the only way, of causing our country and our- 
 Lc'asl "''^""''' ^^' "" I'"'P"'^'>''e ^hom on, lot 
 
90 
 
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 l^SV I'r LlEKllATUilt AM> SCIKM'E. I'uUlWlwl lUOIltll- 
 
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 This piiblicnlion ia conducted with much laleni, and cou- 
 tBinaiiiti"n.'6tiug papers on 'The rolicy ol Blood;' 'Lent;' 
 •IlriliHb<;iiucklin(!'«;" ' I'rivute JudK""^"' »'"' '•» •-■oniw- 
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 Tale;' ' Signs of tbo Time,' &c. 
 ' Umtkd States DKUotiLiTic Kevikw,' for March, new 
 
 ^eries. 
 The Metbopolitax. New Series, No. II. Edited by M. 
 
 J. Kernev, .\. M., Marrb li<jS. IJaltiuioro: John Mur- 
 
 piiy & Co. Boiitou: W. Keating. 
 
 This (crial contains many paiiera of rare ability, omonp; 
 which ar<> UiograpliicalSkelclios of I'ius IX, Our Convent.*, 
 I'oetr)-, Sketches from Irish History, No. II., AOilonc in 
 1)91— Its Defence and Kail, Common Schools, Christian 
 Festivals, Death Scenes of Distinguished I'ersoimgcs, Illus- 
 trated Books for the Young, Their Importance, (from 
 which wu shall give some extracts in afhture number of the 
 Miictllanii) Father Angel, The Kedemptiouiet, &c. Thu 
 following extract is very instructive. 
 DEATH 8CKSES OP DI8TING DISHED PERSONAGES. ^ 
 
 ' The natural death of Queen Elizabeth was more 
 morally appallinj; than the tragical end of her hated 
 rival, Sfary Stuart! 'Days and ni^lits were passed 
 by her in Mjihs and tears. Her imagination conjured 
 up the most friffhtful phatitoms. At length she refus- 
 ed to go to bed, sitting day and niglit on a stool, bol- 
 stered up by cushions, seldom opening her lips, and 
 declining all sustenance. For the Bishops and Lords 
 of her council, with the exception of the Lord Admi- 
 ral, she expressed the most profound contempt. He 
 was of her own blood ; from him, she consented to ac- 
 cept a basin of broth, but when he urged her to return 
 to her bed, she replied that if lie had seen what she 
 saw there, he would never n\ake the request.* To 
 Cecil, who asked if she had seen spirits, she answered, 
 that it was an idle question, beneath her notice. He 
 insisted that she must go to bed, if it were only to sat- 
 isfy her people. ' Must !' she exclaimed, ' is must a 
 wo'rd to be addressed to princes >. Little man, little 
 man, thy fjther, if he had been alive, durst not have 
 used that word, but thou art grown presumptuous be- 
 cause thou knowest that I shall die.' Ordering the 
 others to depart, she called the Lord Admiral to her, 
 saving in a piteous tone, ' Mv lord, I am tied with an 
 iron collar about my neck.' He sought to console her, 
 but she replied, ' No, I am tied, and the case is altered 
 with me.' Her very last words, in reply to the apjili- 
 cations made to her respecting the choice of a suc- 
 cessor to her throne, were, ' I will have no rascal's 
 eon in my seat ; alluding to Lord Beauchamp, the son 
 of liord Hertford and Lady Catharine Grey.' 
 
 ' Charles the First, addressing himself immediately 
 before his execution, to Dr. Juxon, tliui expressed 
 himself: ' I die a Christian, according to the profes- 
 sion of the Church of Kngland, as I found it left me 
 bv mv father : I have on my side a good cause, and a 
 gracious God.' The monarch's last words were, 'I 
 go from a corruptible to an inconiptiblc crown !' ' 
 
 ' Oliver Cromwell appears to have departed this 
 life under the pleasing conviction of assured salvation. 
 ' Tell me," he said to Sterry, one of his chaplains, is 
 it possible to fall from grace !' ' It is not possilile," 
 replied the obsequious divine. ' Then,' said the dy- 
 ing man, ' I am safe, for I know that I w.i8 once in 
 grace." He then uttered a long prayer for the people, 
 and exiiired in the course of a night rendered memo- 
 rable in the superstitious imaginations of that epoch 
 bv the violence of the storm which raged throughout 
 its lapse. The Puritans discovered that nature her- 
 self had been convulsed at the death of their great pro- 
 tector; the Royali<ti believed, on the other hand, 
 thai on the wings of the whirl «ind, demons had come 
 to fetch his soul awav '.' 
 
 'The deathbed of Charles the Second, whose omin- 
 ous rcicn had been fraught with >uili calamity to the 
 Catholics, was rendered remarkable by the return of 
 the dying monarch to that very religion which he had so 
 bitterly persoiuied. Kenn, Bishop of Bath and Wells 
 had pertinaciously prolfcrcd his minisirations, and pro- 
 posed administering the sacraments, of which the elc- 
 ini'nts were actually hroueht into the royal chamber. 
 Charles, however, doubtingly said he would think 
 • about it. Availing himself of an opportunity to ad- 
 dress his brother, the Duke of York, who knelt by the 
 bed-side, asked if he might send for a Catholic priest. 
 ' For God's sake do,' replied the king ; ' but will it 
 expose you to danger V The duke answered that he 
 cared not for that ; and ordering all the attendants to 
 leave the room, introduced Father Hudilleston. "To 
 this reverend confessor, Charles expressed his desire 
 •Was It the blood-stained forai of Jlory Stuart? 
 
 to die \n the communion of tho Church of Rome ; pro- 
 fessed grievous >orrow for his past sins, nnil in particu- 
 lar for having deferred his reconciliation to that late 
 hour; expressed his hope of salvation through the mer- 
 its of our Savior; and participated in the sacraments 
 of penance, holy Eucharist, and extreme unction. A 
 night of great sulVering ensued. The qneen sent to 
 ci-avo pardon of her expiring lord ; ' Alas !' he ex- 
 claimed, '))oor woman, she beg my pardon! I beg 
 hers, with all my heart ; take back to her that an- 
 swer.' 
 
 ' The last moments of the ill-fated Duke of Mon- 
 mouth were marked by circumsmiiees of unusual hor- 
 ror. -He ha I warned the headsman not to mangle 
 him, as he had mangled Lord llussell ; and the very 
 admonition seems to have unnerved the man for tho 
 execution of his task. He took his aim so unskilful- 
 ly or struck so feclily, that he inflicted but a slight 
 g'ash, and the sutVcrer raising his body from the block 
 turned his head to the left side, as if he meant to com- 
 plain. After two more strokes, life seemed to bo ex- 
 tinct, and the executioner, alarmed at his own bloodv 
 work, threw down the axe, asserting with an oath 
 that bis heart failed him, and ,.he would do no 
 more !' 
 
 ' Lord Lovntt, at the age of eighty-four, demeaned 
 himself on the scatlold with stoical heroism ; jested 
 with the executioner, and when he laid his head on the 
 block, exclaimed, with all the ardor of a Roinan patri- 
 ot : ' Dulce et decorum est pro patria mori !' 
 
 'The satirist Rabelais preserved to the last moment 
 of his life the character he had always maintained for 
 sneer and sarcasm. Although he had received all the 
 rites of the Church, it was impossible for those who 
 surrounded his death-bed to ascertain whether he died 
 a believer or an infidel. He dictated his will in these 
 terms : — ' I am notliing worth, owe a great deal, and 
 give the residue to tho poor.' 
 
 Will the publishers oblige us with No. I of the new 
 series? 
 
 NEWS FROM HOME. 
 
 Mr. J. F. Nugent, of Cook street, printer and publisher of 
 Dr. Cuhill's letters and other kindred productions, appear- 
 ed on a summons issued in the name of Daniel liyan, po- 
 lice inspector, charging him with publishing a sedititous 
 print, under the title of ' Moore's Froplietic Almanac' 
 Jlr. Porter read the summons, which, he said, was issued at 
 the instance of Daniel Kyan, inspector of police, against J. 
 K. Nugent, of 3,i Cook street, charging him with publishing 
 a certain paper entitled ' Nugeut's Correct and Genuine 
 Moore's Mercantile, Weather, and Prophetic Sheet Almanac 
 for the Year 1858,' a paper of a seditious and libellous nature 
 intended to create alarm, discontent, and disalTection in the 
 minds oflier Majesty's subjects, and to bring the la%v6 and 
 the government of the country into hatred and contempt. 
 The object of the Commissioners is suppression; they have 
 no anxiety to press for extreme measures After some few 
 unimportant observations, it was ultimately agreed to bind 
 the defendant in his own recognizances for £30U. Several 
 bundles of tlic almanacs were seized during the week, and 
 the police have orders to take all they can find.— jVaiioa. 
 
 The Messrs. Martin, of tho North Wall, to whose enter- 
 prise and energy we are indebted for the establishment of a 
 direct line of communication with Au.stralia, have, we per- 
 ceive, another llrst class vessel— the Kienzi— chartered from 
 Dublin to Slelhourne direct. The advantages that must re- 
 sult to the direct trade of the pprt from this spirited under- 
 taking are too obvious to need special reference to them; 
 but, while the benellt to Dublin niusl be considerable in 
 fact, and us an element of repute, the advantages to the 
 country at large arc still more considerable — Ibid 
 LO n T H . 
 
 Tlic annual plowing match of the Louth Farming Society 
 came otfon the grounds of Mr. Thomas Bradford, within a 
 mile or so of Dundalk on the Newry side. The weather was 
 most favorable, and the field appeared in good order. A 
 large grouping of frize coats from all sides ofthe scene, 
 several country gentlemen, magistrates, merchants, and a 
 fbir sprinkling of the fair sex, witnessed the contest; 2j 
 ploughs and GO horses started in this beautiful race of indus- 
 try ; and in three houre a large Held was thrown on its 
 green back, looking with its brown face to heaven as if to im- 
 plore a drink of dew, and inhale the fresh air. And such 
 is literally the philosophy of plowing. The field was divid- 
 ed into two sections for the two classes of ploughs ; 10 having 
 been first class ploughs, and 15 second class. The work 
 looked beautiful at two o'clock ; not a green spot to be seen 
 in the field, tavc the strip which partitioned tlie two divis- 
 ions, the lines so straight, the fUrrows so clean, the breadth 
 so uniform, the ridges so fat, and the whole presenting the 
 oppearance of a result, attained by instrumental mensura- 
 tion, instead of liavlng, as it had. no other chain or Level 
 I lUan the unpretentious eye of a ploughman. 
 
 WEXr OB D. 
 
 The bark Ellerslle, Captain Cowley, lately stranded in tho 
 South Bay, on her voyage tVoiii Liverpool to Barbadoes, 
 was towed into our harbor by the Litfey, hteani-tug. She 
 now lies alongside the Patent Slip, and the remainder of 
 her cargo Is being discharged in ii damaged state, under the 
 superinteudence of Francis llariHr, J><j., J. P., Agent for 
 Lloyd's. With the exception of a hole in her bottom, caus- 
 ed by the ship fouling her anchor, which was let go when 
 she first struck, her damage is inconsiderable. — Indtptndtni. 
 
 A cotmau named Kenselah fell fi-om the schooner llun- 
 tress, now lying ut our quay, while attempting to go on 
 board his cot ; fortunately Capt. Bcrmlugham of tbo ilun- 
 tress heard the splash in the water, and immediately Jump- 
 ed overboard aud rescued the poor man from a watery grave. 
 —Jbid. 
 
 At Wexford sessions, William 'Widdup, son of Dr. Widd- 
 up, was charged whh the publishing of seditious placards, 
 ' tending to create disalfeclion in the con ntry, and to wean 
 the subjects of the crown from their allegiance.* After an 
 investigation before a full bench, Charles A. Walker, Esq., 
 the Chairman, delivered their decision, which was that tho 
 accused should enter into recognizances, himself in a sum 
 of £100 and to sureties in X5U each, to stand his trial at the 
 next assizes, should the crown think well to scud up bills of 
 indictment to the ^raud jury. 
 
 C AE LOW . 
 
 The extensive improvement now in progress on the.estates 
 of Captain D. M'. I'ack Beresford, the High Sheriff elect of 
 this county, has contributed materially to the advantage of 
 the laboring population of the districts of Neuagh and Sly- 
 gufl"- ample employment being provided foruumerous fami- 
 lies. About two hundred persons earn weekly at an aver- 
 age £100. The drainage is carried on under the superten- 
 dence of Mr. Breunan, and the wages are punctually paid 
 weekly by the paymaster Mr. James Steuart, of Carrigpark. 
 —Scniiiul 
 
 KILS ARE . 
 
 The streets of Athy were lighted with gas for the flrrt 
 time on the 28th of January.— Mr. Eedferd has been ap- 
 pointed manager of the local gas works at a salary of £106 
 per annum. 
 
 Two fat sheep, the property of Mr. Dennis Lawler, were 
 lately stolen from the lands ol Newtown. 
 
 A farmer who had been ejected from his holding on the 
 estate of Mr. Conway It. Dubbs, has been coniniitcd from 
 Donndca petty sessions on a charge of being concerned in 
 sending a threatening notice lotely to Mr. Christopher 
 Kyud, the agent. 
 
 TIPPEBART. 
 
 An inquest was held by John Ryan, Esq., M. D., 
 Coroner for Tipperary District, on the body of Bridget 
 Moan, who, as appeared from tha evidence adduced 
 on the inquiry, came by her death by coming in coo- 
 tact with the train on the Great .Southern and West- 
 cm Railway. The coroner having sworn a jury, and 
 heard evidence, the following verdict was come to af- 
 ter a few minuets, consultation ? ' The deceased camo 
 by her death by incautiously crossing the railway af- 
 ter nightfall, thereby coming into contact with the 
 train, and said accident was purely aceidently, no blame 
 can' be attached to the engine dtiver or guard — and 
 further, we cannot separate without recommending to 
 the railway authorities to have their oflicials and offi- 
 cers connected with the line strictly to enforce the law 
 against persons walking along the line, lopre\ent ac- 
 cidents occurring in future.' 
 
 The additional police force of 20 men, located in 
 the district where the late Mr. Ellis was murderdcd 
 since that occurrence, having been withdrawn they 
 left their station for headquarters. Phoenix Park, Dub- 
 lin. The tax for their support is being collected with- 
 out much difficulty, notwithstanding the opposition at 
 first oO'crcd, as the people see it is better to obey tho 
 law than fruitlessly attempt to resist its demand. 
 
 ■n'ATEBFORD. 
 
 The truly gifted and most accomplished lecturer, 
 the Rev. Dr. Anderson, Professor in the Catholic 
 University, Dublin, gave the first of two lectures on 
 behalf of the Waterlord Young Men's Society, the 
 subject being that most interesting one to all Catho- 
 lics — 'Rome, — the fountain head of our holy church. '. 
 The lecture was delivered in tlio large room, Town i 
 Hall, which was crowded from one end to the other, ^ 
 by an attentive and highly delighted audience- The ' 
 gallery and that portion of this fine room underneath 
 1 were allotted to the members of the Society. The -'♦ 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 91 
 
 front portion of the room was set apart for the gener- 
 al public, wlio paid for admission, every ineli of whioli 
 was availed of l)y a liighly respectable and inflnential 
 Catliolic auditory, comprising the Catholic wealth and 
 standing in the city' several from Tramorc, and very 
 many from Kilkenny. Ou Thursday evening, the 
 Rev. Dr. Anderson give his second and conchiding 
 lecture, the subject of wliicli was ' Poetry and the Po- 
 et's.' The chair was occupied by tlic Rev. Mr. Kent, 
 P. P., and the audience was equally crowded and re- 
 spectable as on tlie niglit before. Having illustrated 
 the qualilications and duties of poets, the reverend, and 
 gifted gentleman concluded his brilliant lecture by ex- 
 pressing a fervent liopo that a Catholic poet would rise 
 up at no distant day to the glory of the Catliolic 
 Church, who would devote his energies to the writing 
 of sacred poetry. The rev. gentleman resumed his 
 seat amid loud applause. The Rev. Mr. Commins 
 proposed a vote of thanks to the rev. lecturer, and in 
 doing so, said he should call to mind that they were all 
 indebted to the Young Men's Society for the very en- 
 tertaining and instructive lectures .they had heard. 
 The Rev, Chairman, in putting the motion, said — My 
 object, ladies and gentlemen, was to keep Dr. Ander- 
 son humble in the way of salvation. In order to effect 
 that object, I stated to him, what we must all acknowl- 
 edge, that we owe a great debt to Oxford and to Ox- 
 ford men. r will repeat to you an old ballad which I 
 heard from an old priest some twenty-six years ago. 
 It was something as follows : 
 
 ' Who first ruled at Oxford College? 
 
 Strict impartiality must acknowledge 
 
 It was a son of Eriu. 
 
 King Alfred was educated at Lismore, and therefore 
 I say we owe a deep debt to Oxford. The vote of 
 thanks passed when the Rev. Dr. Anderson rose to 
 respond ; after which the rev. gentlemen and the Rev. 
 Mr. Kent left the platform, and the interesting pro- 
 ceedings terminated. — News. 
 
 COKK . 
 
 The most brillant and successful course of lectures 
 which the young Men's Society has enjoyed for some 
 time was delivered recently by the Rev. \V. H. Ander- 
 son, of Oxford, now of Dublin. It was attended not 
 only by a dense assembly of the members of the insti- 
 tution, but by a large array of the rank and fashion of 
 the city. The first lecture was on ' Rome.' The sec- 
 ond on ' Poets and Poetry.' The third lecture was on 
 ' Church Music' At the conclusion of the course a 
 vote of thanks was eloquently proposed by Mr Charles 
 Sugrue, sen.' J. P., seconed by the Rev. John Browne, 
 put by the President, aud passed with enthusiastic ac- 
 clamation. — Examiner. 
 
 Painful Retribltion, if Tkde. — The NewpoVt 
 Spectator says there is a young man in a town of Ver- 
 mont, who cannot speak to his father. Previous to his 
 birth some difference arose between the mother and 
 the husband, and for a considerable time she refused 
 to speak to him. The difflculty was subsequently 
 healed — the child was born, and in due time began to 
 talk, but when sitting with his father, was .invariably 
 silent. It continued until it was five years old, when 
 the father, having exhausted his powers of persuasion, 
 threatened it with punishment for its stubbornness. 
 When the punishment was inflicted, it elicited nothing 
 but sighs and groans whicli told but too plainly that 
 the little sufferer was vainly endeavoring to speak. 
 All who were present united in this opinion that it was 
 impossible for the child to speak to his father, and 
 time proved their opinion to bo correct. At a maturer 
 age its efforts to converse with its parent could only 
 produce most bitter sighs and groans. 
 
 Error is a hardy plant ; it flourishcth in every soil ; 
 in the heart of the wise and good, alike with the wick- 
 ed and foolish ; for there is no error so crooked but it 
 hath some linos of truth. 
 
 Friend>hip is a silent gentleman that makes no pa- 
 rade ; the true heart dances no hornpipe on the 
 tongue. 
 
 LITEKATUBK. 
 
 From the Modern Kevolutiouary llistory and Literature 
 of Ireland, by John Savage. 
 
 THE WEXFORD CAMPAIGN. 
 
 In this unconscionable scoundrel Lord Castlerengh, 
 and his troupe of scourgers and assassins, the Beros- 
 fords, Hempenstalls, Sandys', Gowans, Reynoldses, 
 and Armstrongs, found a voluminous and filthy apol- 
 ogist ; and he was of course, faithfully rewarded with 
 the office of Receiver of Customs, and a salary of 
 1200 pounds C$6,000) per year.* 
 
 While Wexford was thus excited, the appearance 
 on the public roads of cart-loads of prisoners from 
 other counties, on their way to Duncannon fort, at 
 once paralyzed the weak, and told the more hopeful 
 that the distractions under which they suffered, were 
 not wholly confined to them. Hay records that from 
 twelve to fifteen cart-loads went through Ross at the 
 one time. Saon, under the jurisdiction of the Orange 
 magistrates, who, with yeomen cavalry, attended by a 
 regular executioner in case of necessity, scoured the 
 country, great numbers were arrested and condemned 
 to transportation, a law being enacted to give such 
 power to these marauders. 
 
 Emboldened by these depredations, the " authori- 
 ties' at Ross, Enniscorthy, Gorey, and other places, 
 carried their loyalty to the extremest lengths ; but 
 the wholesale massacres at Dunlavin and Carnew, if 
 less torturous (because more deadly} put all previous 
 loyalty to the blush. Having lashed and imprisoned, 
 mostly on suspicion, twenty-eight farmers in a dun- 
 geon under an old castle at Carnew, on the 25th of 
 May, the Orangemen got drunk and held a council as 
 to the most expert mode of getting rid of them. It 
 was proposed to suffocate them, by means of lighted 
 straw ; but the hoary villain who made the proposition 
 — through economy to save powder and ball, was 
 scouted for his miserable spirit ; and the majority de- 
 sirous of seeing the " papists" die (and cursing the ex- 
 pense), brought out the poor fellows into the ball-alley, 
 and there they were deliberately shot by the yeomen 
 and a party of the Antrim militia, their officers sanc- 
 tioning the deed. At Dunlavin, three days previous, 
 thirty-four men were shot without a trial. 
 
 Retribution is at hand ; we are on the eve of the 
 Wexford Campaign. 
 
 On the next night, Saturday, the 26th May, the 
 chapel of Boolavogue, the house of the curate, John 
 Murphy, and the dwellings of about twenty farmers in 
 the neighborhood, were burnt by the yeomen. Ah ! 
 It was not alone walls and rafters they set in flames. 
 It was the fire of revolution they kindled ; and such 
 a flame, too, as is not yet extinguished in the rebellious 
 Irish heart. The chapel house of Boolavogue is still 
 
 *Ina few lines, the narrow-mindedness, intolerance, and 
 general character of Jtusgravc, as well as liis qualiBcatioiis 
 for an impartial liiftiHiiDi, ;ne adiiiiially struck oiliu Bar- 
 rington's l"ersonal sk, lrlN->, \vl,eii lie states that " exceiit 
 on the abstract toijic- nl |il■litic^, religion, martial-law his 
 wile, the Pope, tlie I'liiciidci . Uiu .Jesuits, Kapper-Taiidv, 
 and the whippmg-post," bir liichard was ■'generally iu his 
 senses." 
 
 His work, to which I shall have occasion to refer, is enti- 
 tled. " Memoirs otthe Different Rebellions in Ireland from 
 the Arrival ofthe Engli.-^h," &c., and is what Francis i'iow- 
 den calls it (Introilnct. ili^t. of Ireland, since the Uiii.ni 
 Vol. 1,1). 11)7), -an umligesteil heap ol acrimonious lalse- 
 In.odan.l uhluijny.-' it » as cuniijiled ininii-.liately on the 
 su|)|iiessn)n ofthe insurrection, and dedicated bv periuis- 
 siijii to the Mari|ui;. I'nnuvallis, who, however, prevented 
 tlie iniljlieation unlil after the " Union" was ellected, lest 
 from Its irrilahle aii<l i)rilaling nature, it might raise fresh 
 
 lu^dVavaih?bk^'N^•'ll^n^'L■~wnVl^l'i;^:?,?|^^/,',''?'„^^ 
 who had ijermittecl III.' .Ir.iiealj.m, :unl (k-kn.d lii.. ,,nl,li,"'i- 
 tioll to defeat the CallMdio, but « as aKo anxious i,, m-d'e 
 the latter believe he was liieir friend, wmle a letter dis- 
 claiming hiir Kichnrd's inscription and historv '-as being 
 a work tending to revive the dreadful aniinositi'es, which it 
 was the duly of every good subject to to endeavor to com- 
 pass.' . 
 
 Cornwajha was a wary, unscrupulous, pliant, and plausi- 
 ble tool of Titt. Heat once managed directly himself or 
 indirectly through his aid, Castleieagh, to establish Orange 
 lodges, flatter the Protestants, and openly favor to all ap- 
 pearance, the Catholics. "After his return to Euglnud ■' 
 says I'lowdeu (Vol. 1, p. 93), " hs was never known, either 
 in iiiiblio or private, to have attemptid to forward the 
 emanciiiation of the Irish Catholics, to which, however he 
 ever ull'ected to have sacrificed his situation." For the cu- 
 rious in such matters, I will observe that in the third edi- 
 tion of Musgrave's work, 2 vols. Dublin, 18':i2, now Lei'ore 
 uic, the dedication to Coniwallis is omitted. 
 
 flaming — .still crackling and flinging up its bright em- 
 bers on the dark pages of that year's history. 
 
 On this night the people along the road from Car- 
 new to Oulart turned out. The dreadful tidings of de- 
 vastation and murder hunted them like criminals from 
 their hearths. The news, too, that Kildare was in arms 
 roused them ; and to the :vest of Gorey, on Kilthom£S 
 Hill, one of the ridges of the Slieve Bwee mountain, 
 and farther south on Oulart, the insurgents might be 
 seen gathering like sullen thunder-clouds— undecided, 
 gloomy, threatening, and portentous. On the morn- 
 ing of the twenty-seventh, Whit Sunday, those on KU- 
 thomas Hill were dislodged from their position by a 
 body of yeomen. The indecision in the ranks of the 
 insurgents created a panic — they fled and were pursu- 
 ed with great slaughter, the death of their command- 
 ing officer, so exasperating the loyalists that they spar- 
 el no man they met, and, as Gordon admits 'burned 
 two Romish chapels, and about one hundred cabins 
 and farm-houses of Romanists in the course of seven 
 miles' march.'* 
 
 How fares it at Oulart ? 
 
 The insurgents had increased in considerable nnra- 
 bers, but they were unarmed, and, as Gordon states, a 
 'confused multitude of both sexes and all ages." On 
 that morning of Whit Sund.ay, the churchless min- 
 ister of religion, surrounded by his hunted flock, un- 
 sheathed the sword as the only symbol of deliver- 
 ance. 
 
 In the American Revolution a scene took place which 
 is peculiarly apposite. An eloquent pastor on the 
 frontiers of Virginia gave notice that on a certain Sab- 
 bath he would preach his farewell sermon. The day 
 came. The homely temple was thronged with hardy 
 mountaineers. They over-filled the church and crowd- 
 ed the little burial-place. Every one was breathless. 
 That intuitive knowledge of coming events, which at 
 times agitates the most sluggish intellects, guided by 
 peculiar circumstances, excited the assemblage to a 
 marvellous anxiety. The theme of the day was the 
 subject of the sermon. Peace or war — Liberty or 
 death ■? He was a plain vigorous speaker was this 
 pastor. Every word fell on the audience like a mallet 
 knocking off their chains. He portrayed their suffer- 
 ings, their wrongs, and dwelt on the sacred character 
 of the War of Independence. ' Aye,' said he in con- 
 clusion, ' in the language of Holy Writ, there is a time 
 for all things, a time to preach and a time to pray, but 
 those times have passed away' — and thtn in a voice of 
 thunder, 'there is also a time to fight. And that 
 lime has now come !' Pronouncing the benediction, he 
 deliberately removed his gown, and an armed warrior 
 stood before them. This soldier-priest was the Rev. 
 Peter Muhlenberg, afterwards a l\Iajor General in the 
 Revolutionary Army. 
 
 Father John Murphy's last sermon was preached in 
 Boolavogue; the time for preaching and praying was 
 told out by the Orange incendiaries; and the time for 
 fighting hatl come. ' Better,' said he, ' die courage- 
 ously in the field, than ,,be butchered in the houses.' 
 Early on this morning, Hawtrey White with two troops 
 left Gorey in search of the insurgents ; and on the 
 south side one hundred and ten picked men of the 
 North Cork regiment, commanded by Lieutenant Col- 
 onel Foote and six officers, marched from Wexford. — 
 From opposite directions the royalists were advancing 
 on the people. The rapid movements of the North 
 Cork, now joined by sixteen mounted yeomen, who 
 made a diversion on the side of the hill, for a moment 
 
 •History of the Rebellion in Ireland, &c., with an Impar- 
 tial Account of the proceedings ofthe Irish Revolutiouists, 
 &c. liy the Kev. James (Jordou. The author was a Pro- 
 testant clergyman having rectorships both in the counties 
 of Wexford and Cork. He prolessed to write impartially. 
 Musgrave accuses him of having written with more regard 
 to policy than accuracy ' for the obvious purpose of con- 
 ciliating the priests aiid'the popish iniiliitiidi', and to secure 
 the punctual payiuDiit of his liilifs.' .Mn>u') a\ e's coarse na- 
 ture did not understand huw a niun nnghl, could, would, or 
 should write history under an>' iuspiiatiun sa\ etiiat of a par- 
 ty, a purse, or a poor-bo.K. Gordon replying to him in a 
 preface to a second edition, and in defence of the middle 
 course he adopted, states, that he expected to be reprobated 
 liv the 'Irrational zealots of two oppcsite and mutually hos- 
 tile parlies.' Considering the fury of sectional strilfe, aud 
 the white heats iuto which I'rotestant aud Catholic writers 
 aud disputants ofthe period blew themselves, Mr. Gordon's 
 work is remarkably, though not altogether, free from po- 
 lemical asperity. 
 
02 
 
 IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 flung indecision »raongiie the insurgents. A volley from 
 the royalisis drove ihuin up the hill, whither they were 
 followed by the North Cork. A rnpid movement on 
 the p»n of the insurpcnts— un iimhuscnde— up como 
 the North Coi k inciletl by Foote : the rebels hiive open- 
 ed to retrive them, nnd out sprang the pilccnien from 
 their ambush, while the great mass of the people, 
 men, woman, and children, stood looking on the top of 
 the hill. 
 
 ' Wo must conquer or perish," cried Murphy. A 
 deadly vengeance steadied every |>ikc. Dying groans 
 were iu the mens' ears, blazing homes had driven them 
 to battle ; one wild charge, and the royalist bandits 
 rolled over, as if one monstrous corpse. Slusgravc, 
 who is blind to the massacre at Carnew, and but half 
 sees at Duniavin, is forced to admit that ' the entire 
 parly was cut to pieces, except the lieutenant-colonel, 
 a sergeant and three privates.' Ici this fight the insur- 
 gents lost live men and hud two wounded. 
 
 Thus it was that Oulari Mill became the Lexington 
 of the We.sford insurrection. 
 
 A TOUK IN TIJE SOUTH-WEST. 
 
 NO. IV. 
 LETTER TO JOUN MARTIK, F6Q. — PARIS. 
 
 VicKSncKO, Juii. 2Sd, LSoS. 
 
 At this place, halfway between Mcnipbis uud New Or- 
 leaos, I lelt tlie ' llernld ' steamboat, and come on tjliorc, 
 being bound for Juck^on, the capital of the State. Be- 
 tween Vick^burg audJnckson runs a railroad; tlicdistaiice 
 about forty miles. Vou will expect some account of Vicks- 
 burg: but I do not possess, as you are aware, an inquiring 
 mind, and have no great ardor for statistics, ^nevertheless 
 It is safe euough to aver that the exports of Vicksburg con- 
 sist mainly of cotton bales. It is built along the side and 
 on the summit of a hill, or blufl', the Urst hill 1 have seen for 
 many a league, breaking the monotony ofthe Cottonwood 
 swamps. Its population exceeds three thousaudcertaiuly ,- 
 a^d fulls short, I am very cure, of forty thousand; it has 
 not a few daguerreotyiK galleries, and several Christian 
 churches. Of these latter the most conspicuous, if not larg- 
 est, is a haudsome newCutholic church, crowning thesuni- 
 mit ofthe hill, and sliooting aloft a tall Gothic spire, visi- 
 ble far up aud down the river. You are aware that this 
 ' degrading superstition ' as I'rotestants are taught to call 
 it. is strung on the Mississippi. All the way down, from 
 St. Louis to Xew Orleans, the most sumptuous religious ed- 
 ifices arc Calliolie; and while at Memphis, I visited a large 
 new church of that religion, which was to have been conse- 
 crated on the same day 1 left the city. 
 
 1 greatly admire the fearless and liberal spirit of the great 
 founders of the American republic in boldly leaving this 
 formidable church free. It was a noble, and I think wise, 
 audacity to trust civil liberty in the hands of the people, 
 and at the same time sulTer a foreign ecclesiastic to exercise 
 absolute spiritual sway in such sort as no State in Europe 
 (t that period ventured to permit. No ultramontauist could 
 ask lor a more free church than American Catholics have 
 got; and what evil has come ofit! The liberality of Bcran- 
 gcr's ideal republic is here fully realized — 
 A sou gre que chacun professe 
 
 Le culte de sa Deite — 
 Qu' on pulsse alter mcme t la meut^ 
 Ainsilc vent la Liberte. 
 yfe want no Concordats here, nor statutes ofpr<miini>«, 
 nor 'liberties ofthe Galilean church.' Here is recognized 
 and esublislied. once for all, that rapical distinction be- 
 tween the epirtual and the civil order, aud so long as a man 
 obeys the mere temporal laws, he is at liberty to obey also 
 a rope in Italy, a Grand Lonia iu Tartary, and everybody 
 else he pleases. You are Indebted to the conspicuous spire 
 ofthe Vicksburg Catholic church for this slight disquisition 
 on churches and government. 
 
 I remained a whole day in Vicksburg, at the Prentiss 
 House, so named iu honor of an eminent lawyer and poli- 
 tician oflbisState. Mississippi jieople have more anecdotes 
 tn tell you about this Trentiss than about all other jwople 
 put together; and iu fact hewas a notable character in his 
 day. An eastern man by origin, he had come to the South 
 at first as a teacher or tutor, then had studied law, and more- 
 over studied Southern character and adapted himself to it 
 throughly. He was a true orator and genius, with vehe- 
 ment and profound passion, rich and potent imagination, 
 and tlic most reckless personal audacity. No man was ever 
 more deeply stung by the antrum of the South West— the 
 Mississippi madness; compared with which the pT/trviilum 
 ingenium of our own Scoti was cold and lame. The ca.«e of ' 
 IVentiss. however, is singular; noi one ofliis great spcfch- ' 
 cs is reported, lie never w rote a srH.-ech beforehand ; never 
 could recollect it aflemnrds and no shorthand writer could I 
 keep pace with his torrent talk. In fact they dropped their ' 
 pencils, opened tbeh- mouths, and.forgol that tJicy were re- ' 
 
 I porters until ho sat down. Howlcnvy thisroyal/oeimdi'a! 
 It Is power more than royal— yet, I'rentiss was slightly iu- 
 sane, as most men of genius arc aud, dying iu early life, 
 saved the State of Mississippi the maintenance of one lu- 
 natic In the excellent asylum at Jackson. 
 
 At Vicksburg I made hoste to find out, and renew my ac- 
 quaintance with, a good IVlend of mine, a County Cork 
 man, now an old and resjiccted citizen of Vicksburg. lie 
 has been I'lesidcntol the Vicksburg nnd Jackson railroad 
 company, and is in fact the father aud grandfather of that 
 road. lie is now a banker. I spent a pleasant evening iu 
 his house, and found him an enthusiast about the ICiver — a 
 Cork man must be an enthusiast about something; and for 
 his part he declares that he could not live unless the Miss- 
 l.^ippi flowed past his door. The sun, he believes, cannot 
 anywhere else set so magnificently us over the Louisiana 
 woods, there opposite. 
 
 The bluffof Vicksburg is the river-escarpment of a long 
 ridge of slight elevation, which divides the Yazoo river 
 (* river of death') fVom the ' Big Black; ' both these rivers 
 fall into the Slississippi, one above the town and below. 
 Leaving Vicksburg for Jackson, iu company with Mr. Koy 
 editor of one of the newspnpers of the former town, we 
 pn.s-«ed at fli'St through a broken country, the ' bluff' being 
 deeply trenched and furrowed by small water-courses; the 
 small hills are clothed with a beautiful timber, mostly white- 
 oak and beech ; and wlireeverthere is enough of level ground 
 clearings and cotton-fields. At three or four miles distance 
 fi-om the town we have passed through all the broken 
 ground, and thence to Big Black it is tolerably level or 
 slightly rolling. • Big Black,' like all the rivers iu this 
 State, has been at highest flood a few days ago, and though 
 the waters have greatly subsided, the ivalley makes a dis- 
 mal appearance, with huge trees standing black and naked 
 In the muddy water. 
 
 As we approach Jackson, the land, though not level, is 
 sufliciently so for cultivotion ; and very much of it is cleor- 
 ed. About sunset on a most lovely evening we enter the 
 town, conspicuous from fur off by the lofty dome which 
 Clowns the State IlouEc of Mississippi. A friend awaits us 
 at the depot; and we repair to a hotel of stupendous size, 
 yet crowded to its utmost capacity ; foruot only is the Leg- 
 islature of the State in session, but the Order of Free Ma- 
 sons are holding a great Convention. Masonry (whatever 
 it maybe) is very strong in these Southern States; and I im- 
 agln counts amoung its members some of the best of the 
 people. 
 
 • •«*«*** 
 
 We had supper in the vast dining-hall of tlie new Hotel; 
 three long tables extended flom end to end ; and certainly 
 three or four hundred guests sat down. We were very at- 
 tentively waited on by a highly gentlemanlike head steward 
 
 the gallant General . I mention this circumstance 
 
 purposely to startle you. Nothing is so miserable a stum- 
 bling block to European visitors here, especially English, 
 ns to find hotel keepers addres-ed as Colonels and Generals. 
 No matter how long Englishmcit live here, they never be- 
 come reconciled to this atrocious solecism: yet it is not new 
 In the world. You may remember that iu Montaigne's tour 
 in Switzerland, he come to a town w here ' lie had inlinite 
 pleasure in observing the freedom and good goverment of 
 this nation; end in remarking that his host of ihc Grapts, 
 on his return from the town councils, held in a magnificent 
 richly gilded palace, where he acted as president, w-aited 
 upon his guests iu person at dinners. There was onotlier 
 man, without any train or authority in the place, nnd who 
 filled the guests' glasses ns they needed it, who yet had led 
 four companies of foot into France, under Casimir against 
 the King.' 
 
 What disgusts the English, however, most of all, is, that 
 these same American ' Colonels ' and ■ Generals' (even Vol- 
 unteers and Militia) can actually lead troops, storm bater- 
 ies, take cities and do other things, of w hich their own 
 Woolwich cadets have usually a very slender notion in- 
 deed. The English have got something of Republicanism 
 to learn yet— I greatly desire to aid in promoting their ed- 
 ucation. 
 
 Speaking of Montaigne's travels, I find another example 
 of American inititutions appearing in Europe in hisday — 
 ' the hospitalities of the city.' The muncipality of Basle, 
 'did Messrs. D'Estis.sac and de Montaigne the honor of send- 
 ing them some wine by one of their oflicers. who made them 
 a lung harangue while they were at table, to whi.h M. Be 
 Montaigne replied at considerable length.' And again, at 
 Augsbourg, iu Germany. 'The authorities ofthe town did 
 Messrs. U'Estissacand De Montaigne the honor of sending 
 them asn present, when they were at supjier. fourteen large 
 vessels full of their winewliich were brought to 3Iessieursby 
 seven servants dressed in the civic uniform, under the di- 
 rection ofa superior officer, whom Messieurs invited to 
 supper, as is the custom in those cases; and tbey gave the 
 porters a crown.' At Augsbourg. however, I must confess, 
 the parallel breaks down, fur, says M. D'EstJssac, ' we did 
 not see one pi-etty woman here.' 
 
 But I fear that you will observe some slight tendency in 
 my letters to a certain digre.«siveness. 
 
 Jackson is on ihe bank of I'earl river, a very considera- 
 ble stream which does not fall Into the Mississippi, bnt goes 
 into Iht Calf tbrangb Its own montb. It it navigable f«r 
 
 boatsup to Jackson, and like all tho other nvers, carriea 
 down muoh cotton. The State House Is a handsome stone 
 building in the Italian style. Other Slate establishments 
 arc here; and a gentleman kindly ofl'ers to conduct us 
 through the madhouse.— This is a sort of proposal whicli I 
 uniformly decline. Cue can endure a Deaf and Dumb Asy- 
 lum, for once, out ofpoliteuess,— or even a hospital or pen- 
 iteutinry; but I bitterly hate luuatics; and cannot bear Ibl 
 glare ofa mud eye. 
 
 1'here aic gay times at Jackson at present, and much 
 pleasant company. I had the honor of an introction to tho 
 Governor ofthe State, Colonel Mc Willie, a South Carolini- 
 an by birth, but of Irish extraction (as the majority of the 
 people here are)— was present at a very handsome enter- 
 tainment in the Executive Muusion, and had the good for- 
 tune to make the acquaintance of the Governor's splendid 
 family. For once I indulge myself in sjicaking of a/ami/y, 
 because the Governor of a State is a public character, dur- 
 ing his term of otiicc; and his Executive Mansion no more 
 private than the White House itself. This Executive Man- 
 sion is a beautiful one; nnd Is highly honored and adorned 
 by its present inmates. 
 
 Jackson stands at the head of steamboat navigation on 
 Fearl river. It has also a railroad extending northward to 
 Join the Memphis aud Charleston road, and southward 
 nearly to New Orlea^is. Shortly this vast line of communi- 
 cations will be complete; aud thenceforward it will be the 
 main line of travel from Louisiana and all the Southwest 
 Northward, briugiiig its coutributiou to swell the vast traf- 
 fic which will pour through our East Teancssec valley. 
 There w ill tlieu roll past my door at Knoxvillc the Mississ- 
 ippi of Kuilroads. J. M. 
 
 OUR NEW YORK CORRESPONDENCE. 
 Ntw York, March 8tli. 
 
 As Patrick's Dny approai'hes, the prospects for a 
 fine celebration improve. If the weutheris moderate, 
 I tliink the outdoor display will be imposing. At all 
 events the evening celebrations will be as genial at 
 usual. I will furnish you with a duiuilcd dcscriptioa 
 ofthe whole aHair. 
 
 You have doubtless heard of the great calico ball 
 which came oti' some weeks ago, at the Aca<lemy of 
 Mu.'iic, for the cause of charity. I am not going to 
 descrilje it at this late day. But I have to record a 
 fact in connexion with it that deteriorates fron its mer- 
 its considerably ; and that is that not a cent of the re- 
 ceipts — although tlicy were large, unusually large — 
 was besto ed upon a Catholii: charity. The hospitals, 
 schools for poor children, and other charitable iuslitu- 
 tions in New York, under the managenicnt of the Sis- 
 ters of Clmrity and Mercy, and other religious orders 
 extend their henign inliuciice to thousands of the poor, 
 yet none of thctii, as lur as I can learn, have been eu- 
 irusttdwith the disposal of a dollar, out of the fund 
 reulized from a hall in the success ofwhichnoone class 
 of Christians rejoice more than another. If this was the 
 result of foigetfulness (a thing hardly to be thought 
 of) on the part of the maiiaj;ers, it was unpardonable ; 
 but il it was the result of uny bigoted or exclusive feel- 
 ings, it was contemptible, and deserving of all oppro- 
 brium. l''or the honor of New York, it must be said 
 that this is not the spirit which usually pervades chari- 
 table movements here. The sweet cause of charity 
 rebels against the foul spirit of bigotry; and whenever 
 that demon gains ascendency iu enterprise for a chari- 
 table purpose, Charity, folding her rolies about her 
 hcnd, withdraws from all communion tiierewith. 
 
 However, the friends of tho Catholic charities are 
 about getting up u ball in the Academy of Music, on a 
 grand scale, which will be sure to realize a splendid 
 sum in aid ofthe destitute multitude, which continual- 
 ly claims aid nt their hands. 
 
 One of the shining lights of the American Navy, 
 CommOilorc Mftihew C. Perry, has just been vnux- 
 drawn from active service in this world. He died nt 
 his residence, in this city, on the morning of the 5th. 
 The Commodore was one of four brothers, all of whom 
 were in the Navy, and the oldest of whom was Oliver 
 H. Perry, who whipped the Biitish so magnilicentlyon 
 Lake Erie, in the war of 1812, for the same all honor 
 be to his memory. The late Commodore was the com- 
 niandcr of the Japan Expedition, in 1852, and previ- 
 ous to that date had served gallantly iu the Mexicuu 
 war ns commander of the naval squadron, at Vera 
 Cruz. His funeral was conducted on Siturday, in a 
 manner betiiting a gallant seaman, who had served his 
 country well. The marines from the navy yard, a 
 portion ofthe 7th Regiment, the members of the Com- 
 mon Council, and quite a large number of naval and 
 militia oflicers in full uniform attended his remains to 
 the grave. 
 
 The weather here is more intensely winterish than 
 it has been at any time during the period of real win- 
 ter. The East Kiver is clogged with ice, and the cut- 
 ting wind whicli sweeps tfie highways of the city, ren- 
 ders locomotion to pedcvtiians most agonizinj;. The 
 buds, which a few weeks ago gave hopeful promise of f 
 a genial tlion;.'li premature .Spring, have been nipped / 
 in their infant verdure, and like the hapless ihildreu of ' 
 the poor, look pinched, withered, and si^niKcant of 't 
 deeay. MUiJSTEli. 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 93 
 
 ORIGINAL POETRY. 
 
 "Written ior the Miscellany. 
 ST. PATRICK'S DAY. 
 
 Saint Patrick's Day has come again, 
 To cheer the hearts of Irishmen, 
 Though far from home in countries strange. 
 Where'er they dwell, where'er they range, 
 This day they think of home. 
 
 Those homes, which oft they see in dreams — 
 The fields so green, the silver streams 
 ThaJ down the grassy mountains side 
 Kun tribute to that restless tide, 
 
 They cross'd when leaving home. 
 
 Those homes to which they fondly clung— 
 The aged sire, the children young. 
 "Where youths and maidens joined in mirth 
 "^Vith friends and neighbors round the hearth 
 Of their once happy home. 
 
 Those homes that stood beside the hill — 
 The ruined castle and the mill, 
 The little wood, the earthern mound 
 "Where Faires danced at night around 
 In sight of happy homes. 
 
 Those homes were pleasant in those days, 
 The little birds sang out their lays, 
 The lauikius skip'd across the green. 
 
 I Such days since then, were never seen 
 
 I5y Kxiles far from home. 
 
 Those homes, alas! are crumbling stone. 
 The night-winds round their gables moan, 
 Oppression blasted witii its breath 
 The inmates— banishment or death 
 It brought to those loved homes. 
 
 Those homes, to-day in fancy's light. 
 They glad the heart, they cheer the sight. 
 May each succeeding Patrick's day 
 Find Irishmen prepared to pray 
 For Erin once their home. 
 
 OUR DUBLIN CORRESPONDENCE. 
 
 The Trial of Father Conway— The. Catholic Attor- 
 KEY General— "Weakness of the Government case 
 — A Dublin Special Jury — Castlb Tradesmen- 
 Landlord Persecution in Donegal — the Lord 
 Lieutenant op Ireland — The Protestant Oath 
 AGAINST The Pope— The Alien Bill, &c. 
 
 I have just returned from the Court of Queen's Bench, 
 where I liave spent most of three days in listening to the 
 trial of Father Conway upon a charge ot ' spiritual intimi- 
 dation.' I told you in my last that a 'priest hunt' in Ire- 
 land had been in these latter days comparatively unknown. 
 Lord Palmerston has however revived the • sport' in order 
 to the bigotry of the class which upholds his government, 
 
 and thus brought us back to the penal days, in obedi- 
 ence to the behests of the Saxon Parliament which curses 
 our laud with its intolerant legislation I can assure you 
 that a more lame and impotent case was never presented to 
 a court of justice. 
 
 The Attorney General, one Fitzgerald, belonging to Clare, 
 who professes to be a Cawtholir, conducted the prosecution, 
 assisted by able counsel. Thomas O'Uagan, Q. C. with a 
 host of other legal talent defended the reverend traverser. 
 The Attorney General in his opening address conducted 
 himselt infamously. He made u^e of assci-tions concern- 
 ing Father Conway, which the evidouce adduced, proved 
 he had no grounds for making, and which must have ema- 
 nated from the venom and rancor of his malignant brain. 
 I assure you that the most bigoted Orange Attorney Gen- 
 eral that ever disgraced the name of justice, could not have 
 displayed more zeal and anxiety for a conviction than this 
 Catholic (?) Fitzgerald did for the convictian of the priest 
 of Mayo. 
 
 The witnesses, most of them, were a sorry pack of knaves. 
 They contradicted themselves upon material points and con- 
 tradicted each other. One nittlan, who had doubtless been 
 i' tutored to speak a few words oi laish, answered the ques- 
 tions ot the government counsel satisfactorily, and swore he 
 could repeat every word the priest spoke in Irish, This was 
 very well, until Father Conway's counsel took hold of him; 
 when the rullian admitted he could not speak a word of the 
 Gac^i':, and did not understand what Father Conway said 
 to the people in that tongue! It is admitted on all hands 
 in this city, that a lamer case was never brought before a 
 
 THE KURAL DANCING ACADEMY. 
 
 Court, and that the good priest ought to be at once ac- 
 quitted. 
 
 You my dear know well what a Dublin special jury 
 
 is; and what little justice is to be expected from it. The 
 castle is omnipotent in tlie jury box. It is generally com- 
 posed of tbe ' lion and the unicorn' tradesmen. That is, of 
 nincompoops who have been permitted to make a trowsers 
 or a night-cnp for * His Excellency the Lord Lieutenant,' 
 and forthwith the Koyal Arms, or the ' Hon and unicorn 
 fighting for a crown, appears in their windows or over their 
 shop doors, and they become tradesmen to the castle, and 
 ready to betray their country and their God at the bidding 
 of* His Excellency the Lord Lieutenant-' 
 
 It Is of this class mostly, the special jury wliich tries Fath- 
 er Conway is composed, I can only recognise one Catho- 
 lic name on the jury panel, and much is not to be expected 
 from such a jurj-, and I am eatifilied that even this pack- 
 ed jury dare not convict hira upon the flimsey testimony 
 adduced at the trial, 
 
 I grieve to say that tlie people in the mountains of Done- 
 gal are perishing of hunger and starvation. Oh, God! how 
 long will a people who produce food eufl^cieut to maintain 
 three times their numbers, be permitted to perish for the 
 want of that which Thou hast showered upon them with 
 such a bounteous hand? 
 
 The nature of the case in Donegal is this. From time im- 
 memorial, the people in the mountainous districts of Gwee- 
 dore and Ctoughnncely have been permitted to pasture 
 their sheep and cnttle on the sides of the mountains, Jiving 
 princtpalty by stock they were thus enabled to raise. From 
 
 the increase of their stock they paid their rent, and were 
 remaikable for their quiet, orderly deportment, and their 
 love and attachment to their faith, 
 
 The landlords of these places, with but one exception, 
 combined together last year, and depnved the people of 
 their mountains, brought in English and Scotch graziers, 
 and converted the lands, which had previously been the 
 support of so many human beings, into sheepwalks for Eng- 
 lisli and Scotch sheep. leavinp- our own people, made in the 
 image of (Sod, to die and perish of want. 
 
 But this 16 not all. The sheep brought to the Donegal 
 Mountains by these strangers were not accustomed to the 
 climate, nor to the bogs which lie between the hills. Con- 
 sequently numbers of them perished in bog-holes and from 
 the rigors of the climate. A cry was got up that they liad 
 been destroyed by the people, and the Crnnd Jury, com- 
 posed of the very men who had robbtd the people of their 
 lands, returned a large assessment against the district— no 
 less than the sum of three thousand pounds. Now we are 
 assured that this is the most wretched district on (.iod's 
 earth, and yet three hundred policemen have collected this 
 enormous tax fi'Cm these wretched people and have, in 
 most cases, seiyed upon the little store of potatoes &c., 
 which they had laid up for winter and sold it to satisfy this 
 infamous tax— this nefarious robbery. Such is English law 
 in Ireland. 
 
 Now what are oiir exiles In America doing? For the 
 love of God and our fine old Celtic race, to which our per- 
 ishing countrymen belong, come to the assistance of these 
 plundered, persecuted, and perishing soule in Donegal. 
 
 Fellow countrymen in America, a little fVom each of you 
 will be the means of saving thousands from death by star- 
 vatiou. Will you not give us that little, and give it soon, 
 or the poor Celts of Donegal will be swept from the face of 
 the earth, victims to landlord tyranny, and ' the place that 
 once knew them will know them no more forever.' 
 
 3Ir, Koebuck tlircatcns to bring forward his motion for 
 abolishing the mock Court of Ireland. This has fet our 
 political hucksters in a flutter. They fear lest the mart 
 ivherein they sell themselves and their country, should be 
 removed to a place more difficult of access. The Castle and 
 the Court in Dublin are sinks of corruption. The sooner 
 both are abolished the better for Ireland. I wish Mr. Koe- 
 buck would abolish English Maw' in Ireland, along with 
 the English Lord Lieutenant; he would then become our 
 best benefactor. 
 
 There has been considerable * talk' in Parliament con- 
 cerning the oath which every Protestant member has to 
 take against the Pope, This fact has been elicited, and in- 
 deed, almost admitted, that for 200years past every protest- 
 ant member of parliament has been swearing to that which 
 he knew to be a lie! 
 
 It is rumored here that Palmerston will be defeated on 
 the 'alien bill.' If so, old Pam will have to go out, and 
 some other minister will be called in. The change cannot 
 affect this country much ; but such a result will seriously af- 
 fect the alliance existing between John Bull and his Celtic 
 cousin of France. Perhaps Napoleon may yet send his gal- 
 lant troops to clear out that 'den of assassins.' 
 
 AVONMORE. 
 
 Dublin, Feb. l^tb, 1?58. 
 
94 
 
 imsn MISCELLANY. 
 
 NEWS FROM HOME. 
 
 DOM E O A L. 
 
 Sir. Daviii and liio crew wlzcd, diirlug titc liut two mouths 
 tn-o Milln, two alill licadu, ouo coppor worm. 800 gnlloun or 
 potalo, IS );»"'>"■ ul'i'liii.'liiiK'*! SO eloiic ormalt, iiiid 10 vc»- 
 telis outlie bluudd ol'UoluuuU luulnlicvrvr, Uurliig tliv luto 
 galea. 
 
 Oil tliclBlk ofJaiiuArp, CouKlablc John O'Connor, and 
 party of llif Kosunnkill mnlion, iliwovorcd nn exton- 
 •ive private distillery (which, IromallnpiK-urauce, had tieen 
 lung in uac,) in a cave at the foot ut a precipice, with the 
 tide dowing in to the aulnuice iu the townlund of Uuuin- 
 ton, on the wcat ofLough Swilly, ami south of Knoclialla 
 mountain. Nean^t to the entnince of the cave distillatJou 
 waagoingon; further in wa« a pool for steeping malt; and 
 considerably l>cyond that was a nicely prepared malting 
 floor, BO arranged that people could remain all night in it. 
 The only entrance was from the sea side or down n danger- 
 ous precipice. Tlie seizure con.sisted of two stills, two coji- 
 per worms, three still heads, two vats, seven large hogs- 
 beads containing upwards of three hundred gallons of wort 
 and wash, and several vessels, dvc Icegs with about Ill^een 
 gallons ofsinglings. live bags, containing about sixty stone 
 of grains. Two prisoners was arrested, who were tried at 
 Uathmullau I'etty Sessions, and sentenced to three months 
 imprisonment. 
 
 DOWN. 
 
 It is with extreme regret that wc have to record another 
 instance of lirv-raising, whereby a stuck of oats and another 
 of wheat straw, the property of .Mr. .lolin Mackclvie, Kally- 
 lough, have been completely destroyed. Mr. Mackclvie 
 observed the (ire— his attention having been attracted by a 
 light shining into bis bed-room window, and gave an alarm 
 to his neighbors, who speedly rei>aired to the spot, and by 
 their exertions prevented the flames from catching a stack 
 of hay, although unfortunately, they could do nothing to 
 save the two stacks already mentioned. Fortunately the 
 wind was from the south, otherwise the dwelling house 
 would in all likeliliood have shared the fate of the stacks. 
 The property was not insured.— AVwry Htrald. 
 
 Thomas Drought, a private of the Tower Hamlets Militia, 
 now stationed in Newry, was sentenced to a month's im- 
 prisonment, with hard labor, by the Magistrates at the I'et- 
 ty Sessions, for attempted robberj- of the till of Dr. John- 
 eon, and an assault on that gentleman. 
 UONAOKAN. 
 
 Monaghan winter fair was but indifl'crently attended, the 
 the supply of beasts on the whole being of a middling 
 description. The prices of stock of every kind were lower. 
 The sales, notwithstanding were slow. 
 
 Some ten or twelve months since the Most Rev. Dr. Mac- 
 Kally, Lord Itishop of Cloghur, purchased eight acres ot 
 land, situate a short distance from the town of Monaghan, 
 on the Castlcblayney road. The price was :C800. A week 
 or two since a meeting of the leading Catholics of the par- 
 ish was held, when more than Xl.OiXl was at once subscfib- 
 ed to pay for the land, his lordship, we understand, giving 
 £200 as his own subscription. On this ground it is, we be- 
 lieve intended to erect a now Church, a Convent, and schools 
 and a parochial residence. The undertaking is a heavy one ; 
 but with such a prelate as the liishop of Clogher to guide 
 the good work, and such liberal people as the Catholics of 
 Monaghan to supply the fund..*, wc hope' in a few years to 
 eec their foud desires accomplished. — Dundatk Drmocrat, 
 
 C A V A N . 
 
 Willi feelings of deep regret wc have to record the pre- 
 mature death of Edward I'lunkett, E.«q„ of Donowne, in the 
 county Cavan, who died of apoplexy. 
 
 The lands of Ferrrugh, in this county, held in fee, con- 
 taining 93a. Ir. Op, statute measure, yearly profit rent .£66 
 3s. M., were set up for sale, by order of the Commissioners 
 of Incumtiercd Estates, before tieorge Ciraham, auction- 
 eer, at Argus Hotel, in the town of Cavan, recently, fhere 
 was a vcr}' numerous attendance, chiefly of tenant farmers. 
 Aner a brisk and spirited competition, chiefly between Sir. 
 Clarke of Larali, Sir. Jennings and Mr. James Morrow of 
 Ballyjamcsdutr, Sir. Slorrow was declared the highest bid- 
 der for;ei,&50. 
 
 O A L W A T. 
 
 An influential meeting was held in the town of Tuam for 
 the purpose of organizing a subscription tor the defence of 
 the Kev. Messrs. Conway and Kyan, who are now being 
 prosecuted by the Attorney -liencrul under the direction of 
 the Ilouse of Commons. Over Qfty pounds were subscrib- 
 ed at once. 
 
 The llallinasloe H'rifcm Stnr says:—' On Tuesday last 
 (Jan.26,) we hud a fall of snow for the (irst time this season, 
 but as tlie day advanced the fields again assumed their garb 
 of green, the enow rapidly disap|)earing. The season has, 
 up to the present, continued peculiarly mild, and out-door 
 work has been prosecuted with vigor. The wlieat crop 
 looks well, and land for green crops is already undergoing 
 the preparatory operations. 
 
 The Arcbbisbop ofTuam has appointed the Itev. T. M. 
 
 Donagh, CO ., tnm Ballinaklllto the Island ofBoflln, and 
 the Itev. Tatrlek liyau to be C. C. orilnllinukill. 
 
 The new church of .SI. Augustine, Cialway, is rapidly pro- 
 gressing towards completion. The walls of the clerestory 
 arc at the flill height ; and the triplet window now presents 
 abohl and inajeslic idea of the (iutliic architecture of the 
 lOlh century. The building. It is exiH;cled, will be ready 
 for solemn consecration early In the present year. The de- 
 signs and plans arc by M. B. Mornn, ICsq., architect. Dub- 
 in. 
 
 MISUBIiliANAB. 
 
 If you would know the worth of a dollar, go and 
 borrow one. 
 
 The best way to .silence a talkative person is never 
 to inlcrrujit liim. Do not snuH' the caudle and it will 
 go out of itself. 
 
 The Rev. Evan Baillie has placed his resignation 
 of the living of Lawslinll, Norfork, (Eng.) in the hands 
 of the hisliop of the diocese, preparatory to his being 
 admitted into the Church of Rome, in which step he 
 had been preceded by liis late curate, the Rev. II. Do 
 Burgh. 
 
 ' Do you know the prisoner, Mr. Jones.' 'Yes, to 
 the hone.' ' 'What is his character.' 'Didn't know 
 he had any' ' Does lie live near youl' ' So near 
 that he has spent only five shillings for fire-wood in 
 eight years.' 
 
 A little girl, five years of age, came home from 
 school the other day, and being asked by a member of 
 the family if she was at the head of the class, re- 
 plied: ' No, I am at the foot.' Being asked the rea- 
 son for her being there, she very naively replied ; 
 ' Father says the know nothings are the best.' 
 
 ScAHCiTY OF Men fok the Bkitisii Ahmt. — Up- 
 wards of 60,000 men, says the LniUd Service Gazette, 
 are required to complete the several regiments of the 
 line to the full establishment. It seems evident that 
 some more active measures must be adopted to obtain 
 recruiis. Volunteering from the militia to the line 
 appears, says the Globe, to bo almost a failure. Re- 
 cruiting parties were sent to Aldershot to enlist 3,000 
 men, but only GOO were obtained. 
 
 The most agreeable companion is a simple, frank 
 man, without any high pretentions to an oppressive 
 greatness ; one wlio loves life, and understands the use 
 of it , obliging alike at all hours ; above all of a gold- 
 en temper, and ste.idfast as an anchor. For such an 
 one we would gladly exchange the greatest genius, 
 the most brilliand wit, and profoundest thinker. 
 
 A Se-s'Sibi-e Girl. — At a late hall in Baltimore, a 
 gentleman — probably one of the codfish aristocracy — 
 having danced with a young lady whose attraelions, 
 both personal and conversational, seemed to have 
 made an impression on his sensibilities, aiikcd to have 
 the pleasure of seeing her on the fuliowing evening. 
 
 ' Why, no sir,' replied the fair one, 'I shall be en- 
 gaged to-morrow evening; but I'll tell you when you 
 can see me.' ' I shall be most happy,' exclaimed the 
 stricken swain. ' Well, on Saturday,' resumed the 
 lady, 'you can see me at the foot of Marsh's Market 
 selling cabbages ! ' 
 
 Dar.v THE ExPFNSE. — A good storj is told, in il- 
 lustration of the strange things that men will say dur- 
 ing moments of excitement, of a fervent member of a 
 prayer nieetiug, who, while praying, was incited to 
 greater zeal by the sympathizing ejaculation of other 
 members of the meeting. Growing more animated ho 
 cried out : ' Come down here, Lord — come right 
 down among us — come right here tonight — come right 
 right through the roof!' And another, equally en- 
 thusiastic and excited, ard who, it seems, was carried 
 away hy the shouting brother, and had the tantrums 
 about as bad, here joined in and said : ' Yes, come, 
 Lord, rjght down through the roof, and I'll pay for the 
 shingles.' 
 
 Earlt Rising. — Rubens rose regularly at four, and 
 made it a law of his life to be};in the day by prayer ; 
 after which he went to work, and before break- 
 fast made those beautiful sketches known by the 
 name of his breakfast sketches — always having in the 
 
 house nn educated penon, who rend to him Livy Plu- 
 tarch, or Virgil. As work wa« his great happiness, 
 ho was very uhstcmious, that he might not be preven- 
 ted painting all day. He worked on till five, whea 
 he mounted liis favorite horse, and rude round the 
 ramparts at Aniworpt ; at his return, he found his 
 friends assembled to supjit-r. Ilis chief relaxation 
 was riding, or studying his line collection of gems, 
 or reading ; and ns ho painted everything from nature 
 and painted horses often, he had some of the finest 
 breed in his stables. He rarely visited, except when 
 rcijuestcd to do so by artists in whose works ho always 
 found something to praise. 
 
 IIowToLooK YouNO. — How is it that some men, 
 thought to bo so old, still look so young, while others 
 though young, look old ? The euusc lies very fre- 
 (|ucntly in themselves. Mr. Runt once, on being asked 
 the reason, said — 
 
 ' I never ride when I can walk ; I never cat but one 
 dish at dinnc' ; I never get drunk. My walking keeps 
 my blood in circulation, my simple diet prevents in- 
 digestion, and never touching ardent spirits, my liver 
 never fears being eaten up alive. But ho forgot to 
 add one of the greatest causes of lasting youth — 'a 
 kind, unenvious heart.' Envy can dig as deeply in 
 the human face as time itself. 
 
 He is happy whose circumslance's suit his temper, he is 
 more excellent, who can suit his temper to any ciicumstan- 
 cee. 
 
 Any one may do a casual act of good nature, but a con- 
 tinuation of them shows it a part of (he temperature. 
 
 It's ok no Coxbequesce — At one time Daniel Webster 
 bad a difiicult case to plead, and a verdict was rendered 
 against bis client. One of the witnesses came to him and 
 said — 
 
 'Sir. Webster, if I had thought we should have lost the 
 case, I might have testified a great deal more than I did.' 
 
 It's of no consequence,' replied the lawyer, the jury did 
 not believe a word you said.' 
 
 A Fool's (question. — As the late professor H. was walk- 
 ing near Edinburgh, be met one of those beings usually 
 called fools.' 
 
 Tray,' says the Professor, accosting him, ' how long can 
 a person live without brains?' 
 
 'I dinna ken,' replied the fellow* scratching his head — 
 ' howjong have you lived yourself, sir." 
 
 FouEDOinxos.-Evils in the journey of life arc like the 
 hills which alarm the traveller upon their road: they both 
 appear at a great distance, but when we approach them wc 
 find that they are far less insurmountable than we had im- 
 agined. 
 
 Ambition is not always the mark of a great mind ; on the 
 contrary it is frequently the aim of the weakest; as the high- 
 est eminences are only acccs.«ible to eagles and reptiles. 
 
 Wisdom is the olive that springeth from the heart, bloom- 
 eth on the tongue, and bcareth fruit in the actions. 
 
 Hint to Wive.'?.— Wives who do not try to keep their 
 husbands will lose them. A man does the ' courting , bo 
 fore marriage, and the wife must do it afterwards, or some 
 other women will. 
 
 Don't be afl'righted if misfortune stalks into your humble 
 habitation. She sometimes takes the liberty of walking in- 
 to the presence chamber of kings' 
 
 ST. PATItieiv'S MlillT. A Series of Tableaux, il- 
 , lustrntiiip Irish History and the Trial of Kobert Em- 
 met, will be given by Die lioys of the House of tlie Angel 
 Liuardiaii, in (lie Itustou Slus'ic Hall, on the evening of the 
 ITIIiof Starch, 1S58. 
 Sill. AxTiioNY Werxer— Conductor. 
 I'ART 1.— lublcaux of Irish History, and Trial of Robert 
 Emmet. 
 1. St. I'atrick in Tara's Hall, preaching to the King of 
 Tara. 
 
 2. Let Erin remember the days of old, 
 
 Kre her fnitliless sons betrajcd her ; 
 S\'1r>ii Slalaclii wore (he collar of gold. 
 Which he won from the proud invader. 
 
 3. Siege of Limerick. 
 
 lltlAL OF ItOBEET ESIMET. 
 
 4. Hobert Emmet and the I'atriots assembled. 
 
 5. Treason discovered. 
 (). The 'I'raitor punished. 
 
 7. Emmet has been arrested. 
 
 8. Trial Scene. 
 
 0. Emmet's Last Speech. 
 
 Part II. 
 
 1. Exile of Erin, Song. 
 
 2. The Last Kose of Summer, Brass Hand. 
 
 3. Law, Coniic Song. 
 
 4. Kathleen Slavonrneen, Song. 
 
 5. Erin is Sly Home, (yuick Step) Orchestra. 
 G. Kitty Clvde.tbv request) Song. 
 
 7. 1 he llaii) that once— Solo and Chorus. 
 
 8, Ifory li'SIoore and <jar)'one, Orchestra. 
 U. Leather Breeches, Comic Song. . 
 10. (jlorioti.'^ Apostle, Chonis and Orchestra. 
 
 Tickets 2.5 cents. To be had of the Ticket Committee, at ' 
 the Catholic Bookstores, and at the door. 
 Doors open ut 1-2. Concert to coiumcucc at 7 1-2 o'clock. . 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 95 
 
 ADVEKTISEMENTS. 
 
 T. & A would inlbrm rublisbers, Anthors and Printers, 
 that they are prepared to undertake'^all orders for Design- 
 ing, Drawing, and Engraviug, from a single illustration to 
 a series of any extent, for liooks and Newspapers with a 
 strict regard to superior workmanship and moderate charges . 
 
 P MORRIS, APOTHEC^ARY, Corner Federal andPur- 
 • chase streets, foot of .Summer street, JBoston. 
 Strict persoual atteutiou paid to compounding l^hysician's 
 Prescriptions. A choice selection of Family Medicines 
 coustautly on hand. A well selected Stock of genuine im- 
 ported Perfumery and Fancy Goods. Soda water with 
 choice Syrups. A large assortment of Genuine Havana 
 Cigars constantly on hand. fcb 13 
 
 X. KEATIXG, Designer and Engraver on Wood, 
 • No. 2 Spring Lane, Boston At Jackson & Foynes. 
 
 P 
 
 WHY BURN GAS BY DAYLIGHT ? STEPHEN 
 BOE & CO., Inventors and Manufacturers of the 
 Impkovkd Daylight Keflector, for diftut^ing the 
 liealthy light of day into all dark places. No. 23 State St., 
 Boston, and No. 34 Park street, Baltimore. 
 K. B. Call and see it in operation. 6m febl3 
 
 GILMOKE-S SALEM QUADKILLE BAND. E. UP- 
 TOU, Jr.. Prompter. Apply to P. S. Uiimore, Es- 
 se.x House, Salem, Mass. 3m febl3 
 
 D 
 
 OOLEY'S MERCHANTS' EXCHANGE HOTEL, 
 State Street, Boston, conducted upon the European 
 plan. 
 [C?=-Rooms, per day — 50 cents. Lodging — 25 cents. 
 P. S. After the 1st of April next, Mr. Dooley will move 
 to his New Hotel. No. 25 Portland street. febl3 
 
 W 
 
 ILLIAM MANNING, Sexton & Fd?jeral Under- 
 taker of the Dorchester Catholic Cemetery, would 
 inform liis friends and the public, that he keeps constantly 
 on hand and manufactures to order, Collins of all sizes and 
 kinds, at his coliin wareroom. No. 1 Davis St., Eoxbury. 
 
 Gras'e clothes of various Cjualities for sale, and coliin plat«s 
 engraved at short notice. [0=- Price of Gi-aves, Sr3.50. 
 
 ST. PATRICK'S NIGHT! A grand Vocal and Instru- 
 mental Concert will be given \v the St. Cecilia Choral 
 Society, (one hundred singers,) and Brass Band attached, 
 a*5istefl by tlie lull iiermania Orchestra, and Mendelssohn 
 Glee Club, at Tremout Temple, Wednesday, March 17, 1868. 
 Mr. ,Tolm Falkenstein, Director, Organist of St. Mary's 
 Church, Bo.^tou. 
 
 Tickets 25 cts., to be had at the Pilot Office, and the fol- 
 lowing gentlemen : 
 
 Boston— E. A. Palmer, E. A. Coggins, Patrick Donahoe, 
 T. Mooney, James O'Neil, M. Dolierty, Martin Grillin, C. 
 Doherty, E. S. Wright, VVm. S. McGowan, Dennis Bonner, 
 M. A. Farren. Wm. Dorcv, J. Cunningham, Dr. Walter 
 Walsh, Wm. Coyle, J. N. jfcDcvitt, T. Powers, J. W. Bar- 
 ron, Geo. E. Murphy, F. O'Dowd, Wm. Harley, Jas. Galla- 
 gher, M. Carney, John Klynn, Jolni Doherty. 
 
 South Boston — Dr. Ferguson, Wm. McAvoy, Ambrose 
 A. Thayer. 
 
 Eastfeoston — M. Doherty, P. McDonough, H. Kingman, 
 Dr. Taylor. 
 
 Koxbury — Joseph Walker, M. Mischler, J. Murphy, 3Iar- 
 tin Lynch, James Baxter. 
 
 Charlestowu— M. Leunan, C. Grace, F. Holland, P. H. 
 Kcagle. 
 
 Cambridge and East Cambridge— Wm. Brine, John Coni- 
 an, .Tohn Haegney, John F. Brine, Jos. F. Scanlan, Jas . 
 Cassidy, J. Iviemiin, m6 
 
 A LECTURE will be delivered in the ba.«eracnt of St. 
 Vincent's Church, Purchase St., (for the bcuelit of the 
 Sunday School,) on Sunday Evening, March 14th, by Kev. 
 J. T, Koddan. Subject — J'oau of Arc. Lecture to com- 
 mence at 7 1-2 o'clock. 
 
 Tickets 2a cts. Children half price. To be had at the 
 usual places and at the door ou that evening. niG 
 
 SE. SANBORN, Wholesale and Retail Dealer in Gold 
 • and Silver WATCiiEa, Jewelry, Silver Ware. 
 Fancy Goods,, &c. No. 134 Federal Street, Boston. 
 
 C?" Particular attention giveu to Kepuiriug Watches, 
 Clocks, Jcwdlry, &c. &c. feblS 
 
 AMUSEMENTS. 
 
 MOKUrS BKOTUEKS, PELL & HUNTLEY'S MIN- 
 STRELS ! OPERA House— School Street, opposite 
 Fnuikliii .Monument. 
 
 The above Company commenced their Series of Unique 
 Burlesque Ethiopian Melanges on MONDAY EVENING, 
 ,lau. 4tli, 1808, and will conOnue every evening and Satur- 
 day Aflernoon during the season. The hall has been beau- 
 tifully lifted up, and the Managers pledge themselves that 
 no piiius shall be wanting on their part to render this the 
 place of anuisement for the play-going public. 
 
 Cards of admission, 25 cents ; Children under ten years, 
 15 cents. 
 
 [CT^Doors open at 6 3-4 o'clock ; performance commen'c- 
 ing at 7 1-2. LON MORRIS & J. T. HUNTLEY, 
 
 febl3 tf Business Managers. 
 
 OKDWAY HALL, Washington street, nearly opposite 
 the " Old South." Ninth Regular Season. Manager, 
 J. I". (.iRDWAY. 
 
 Every Evknikg This Week. Messrs. Bowers & Bud- 
 worth (fl'om Christy & Woods' Minstrels), the celebrated 
 Ethiopian Comedians, will appear in conjunction with Ord- 
 wav's iEOLIANS. See small bills each day. 
 [C7=-Tickets 25 cents— Children half price. 
 Doors open at 6 3-4 o'clock : To commence at 7 1-2. fl3 
 
 DO'EOUEKE, respectfully informs his friends and the 
 a public, that he keeps constantly on hand COFFINS 
 of all sizes and kinds, at his Cotliu Manufactory, No. 347 
 Federal, between Beach and Kneeland Streets, Boston, 
 which he will sell as reasonable as can be bought at any oth- 
 er place in the city. 
 
 N. B. — Orders punctually attended to, day or night. 
 
 Residence, No. 28 South street, Boston. 
 
 O^Grave-Clothes furnished to order at short notice. 
 
 tebl3 
 
 M. 
 
 FOUNTAIN HOUSE. A TEMPERANCE HOTEL, cor- 
 ner of Harrrison Avenue and Beach Streets, near the 
 "Worcester and Old Colony Railroad Depot, Boston. 
 Terms — One dollar and twenty-live cents per day. 
 febl3 H. F. GARDNER, M. D., Proprietor. 
 
 BTACKPOLE HOUSE, William Stoke. Corner Milk 
 and Devonshire streets, Boston. 
 (r7=*Europeau Papers on tile. feb 13 
 
 ANY' of the following works, published by P. M. HAV- 
 ERTY, 110 Fulton street. New York, will be sent free 
 by mail, on receipt of the amount in money or postage 
 stamps :— 
 
 KEMINESCENSES OF AN EMIGRANT MILESIAN. 
 The Irish Abroad and at Home ; with Souvenirs of the Brig- 
 ade. One Vol., 12 mo., cloth. Price, Sl.OO. 
 
 HIBERNIAN NIGHTS' ENTERTAINMENTS: Ev 
 Samuel Ferguson, LL.D., Editor of the Dublin Universi- 
 ty Magazine, 12 mo., cloth, 5(34 pages. Price ,$1.25. 
 
 EMMET: Lives of Robert and Thomas Addis Emmet, 
 with a uieraoir of Robert Holmes. Two portraits ou steel, 
 12mo, cloth. Price, Sl.OO. 
 
 DAVIS'S POEMS: With an introduction by John Mitch- 
 ell. 18 mo., cloth post. Price, 38 cents. 
 
 FITZGERALD: Thomas Moore's Life of Lord Edward 
 Fitzgerald. 12mo., cloth. Price, 75 cents. 
 
 WILD IRISH GIRL: By Lady Morgan. ISmo., cloth, 
 2 vols, in one. Price, 130 cents. 
 
 P. M. H. ivill also send any of the publications of P. 
 Donahoe. of Boston ; Dunigau or Sadlier of New York, by 
 mail on tlie same terms. febl3 
 
 BS. TREANOR, ATTORNEY and COUNSELLOR 
 . AT LAW, 15 Massachusetts Block, Court Square, 
 Boston. 
 
 [];7=*I'articular attention paid to Conveyancing, and the 
 examination of titles of Real Estate. feblS 
 
 T 
 
 HE B{jSrON STEAM JOB I'RINTING ESTABLISH- 
 
 ute to order, JOB PRINTING of every descrijjtion, 
 neatest manner, and on reasonable terms. 
 
 Mammoth Posters; Handbills; Ball Cards; Bank Checks; 
 Colored Printing; Circulars; Crvstal Signs; Bill Heads; 
 Labels; Cards of all Uiuds; Flock Work, &c., &c., &c. ex- 
 ecuted with a beauty of style aud finish unequalled bv any 
 Establishment in the country. W. R. JACKSON, 
 
 T. P. FOYNES. 
 Proprietors of the Boston Steam I'rinting Otiice. 
 
 PROSPECTUS. 
 
 tRI.Sll MI.SCELLANY. Prospectus. On Saturday the 
 I3ih <hiy ul* I'lhiuary 1858^ was published the first 
 lunibt r nl :i iii;\v \\(i.'kly periodical, with the above title, 
 udicated ti> thi- diilit^iuu of a more intimate knowledge of 
 le litiirary and jinlitical lii^tury of Ireland, and to tbe 
 lid political elevation of the Celtic race on 
 
 ntin 
 
 'i'Uii"- Irish ^Miscellamj^^ will contain 16 pages of closely 
 printed matter, on line paper, of a size similar to this pros- 
 pectus. I'rice 4 cents a copy, payable on delivery ; or S2 a 
 year to mail subscribers — invariably in advance. 
 
 In asking for public support for ihe Irish Miscellany, it is 
 proper to say, that it is nut our inteutiou to trespass upon 
 
 thei 
 
 oft 
 
 enipor; 
 
 fly nev 
 
 KELLY & CUNNINGHAM, BILL rOSTEH.S and Dis- 
 tributors, No. 2 Williiims Court. Uo,-ton, Proprietors 
 of ail ttie Bill Boauds i>- the City, respeolfullv an- 
 nounce to the busiiifss cunniuiiiitv of Boston ami N. York, 
 that tiiey have greatly inrnitscd their facilities for Posting 
 and i-)istributing Bills, snch as 'llieatre, Concert, Lecture, 
 Auction, .Steamboat, Circus. S:e. itc. 
 
 Owin-jtotbe great increase in their business, they have 
 been obliged to add horses and wagons to their heretofore 
 ample accommodations, to wliich they give their personal 
 attention. 
 
 ^^Thankful for past favors they would respectfully so- 
 licit a continuance of public patronage. 
 
 KELLY & CUNNIiNUHAM, 2 Williams Court, 
 
 febl3 lV_)SToN. 
 
 r-pANiNEH, ilALPIN Si COMPANY. lUr.Kr-rniiv Ptin- 
 J_ LL^iiJcits, Ai>vki;tisin(j and Cum. kiting A<;kntp, No. 
 HI S.mth Clark stret-t, Chicago, Illiiii-is, c..ni]jileis of D. B. 
 Cooke & Co's. City and Busines.s Directory, Chicago. Di- 
 rectories compiled for Local Publishers in any part of tbe 
 Wesleru States. JIknuv Tax'nkk, Jk. 
 
 'J'H<mA8 M. tlALriN, 
 CbicagOj Fob. 18 Allan Coovei;. 
 
 lave marked out for uiiiseive^ a course entii t- ly new aud 
 original— one not occupied by any other publication in this 
 country. We propose to cultivate a lield which, although 
 naturally rich and tertile, and capable of producing the 
 choicest flowers and fruits of literature, has hitherto lain 
 comparativel_y barren aud unproductive. Into this field we 
 shall enter with a full confidence of its capabilities, but with 
 a modest dilhdeuce of the skill which we shall bring to its 
 culture. 
 
 It has long been a reproach to our race here, that while 
 the publications of the day, with but few exceptions, teem 
 with vile carricatures of us and of our country — while we 
 are continually held up to public gaze as everything that is 
 foolish, absurb and vicious — but little eflbrtis made to place 
 the true character of our people before tbe public eye. or 
 vindicate our name and race from the calumnies with ■wiiich 
 English hate everywhere pursues us. 
 
 To correct, in some measure, this crying evilj it was at 
 first intended to gather together a number of Irishmen dis- 
 tinguished in the walks of literature, aud publish monthly 
 a review, which, for sterling talent, should be second to 
 none published here or in Enorpe. The great expense con- 
 sequent upon an undertaking of this magnitude, deterred ua 
 from the attempt, compelled us to relinquish our design, 
 and to substitute instead thereof, our more* unpretending 
 " Miscellany.'''' 
 
 We propose to re-produce in our weekly periodical the 
 writings of many of the great minds who have gone before 
 us. while we shall also cull from the current Irish litera- 
 ture of the day, such productions of merit cannot fail to be 
 accaptable to our readers u.ir couutry is rich in legendry 
 lore, and the legends ot the uJd land, while they amuse, 
 serve to instruct aud to elevate. 
 
 We shall therefore publish such instructive tales and le- 
 gends of a high moral tone, that will remind us of the hap- 
 py times when we — 
 
 '■'• Sat by the fire of a cold Winter's night. 
 Along with our friends telling tales of delight." 
 
 We shall give faithful desriptions and illustrations ot 
 Irishantiquities— of our ruind monasteries, our plundered 
 abbeys and churches ; and our pictorial ilustrations of Irish 
 scenery and antiquities will present to loving minds many 
 familiar scenes of early childhood. We have secured the 
 services of talented artists, aud each number of the Miscel- 
 lany will contain numerous pictorial illustrations executed 
 in the best style of art. 
 
 We shall keep constantly before our readers the ancient 
 glory of our country, and while we ponderwith pride upon 
 the moral and intellectual superiority of Ireland, when 
 England and the rest of Europe was sunk in ignorance aud 
 bai-barism ; we shall point to the past as an incentive to the 
 future. 
 
 Tbe biographies of distinguished Irishmen will be an im- 
 portant feature in the Irish Miscellany, as we shall give bio- 
 graphical notices of Irishmen, distinguished iu every de- 
 partment of literature, science and art — of men distinguish- 
 ed on the sea aud on land : iu the church, the senate, and 
 at the bar. 
 
 It is our intention to republish the works of Irish writers 
 now out of priut, in such a manner that they may be pre- 
 served to future time a? a memento of tbe old land, and 
 serve to iiicalculate, in tiie minds of the rising generation, 
 a lilial regard for the land of their fathers. 
 
 We propose commencing with the Dublin Penny Journaly 
 a work which in its day enjoyed unbounded popularity. 
 We shall devote one half of the Miscellany to each number 
 of that national publication. To do this we have ordered a 
 font of type in Irish characters, so that the poems printed 
 in that Journal in the Irish language can be reprinted in 
 Irish characters with English translation in ours. This 
 department of the Miscellany will be in tliehands of an Irish 
 gentleman every wav competent to the task. 
 
 The remaining eight pages of the Miscellany will be devo- 
 ted to tbe current itews of the day, to original articles, tales, 
 essays, poetry. &c. In politics we shall endeavor to avoid 
 tbo.se questions which have divided our countrymen, or 
 discuss them in a manner void of ofl'ence. 
 
 Tbe Irish Miscellany will be thoroughly independent of all 
 political parties — the slave of none- Such questions as af- 
 fect our countrymen here, we shall di.<^cuss with freedom, 
 aud zealously labor for their moral, intellectual and politi- 
 cal elevation. 
 
 The editorial labors will be divided among several gentle- 
 men of ability, and we trust to make the il/Mc/Z/a;))/ a wel- 
 come guest at the fireside of every family. With these re- 
 marks we commend our sheet to the support of every well 
 wisher of our race. We feel there is room for such a pub- 
 lication and promise that nothing shall be wanting on our 
 part to make it worthy of public support. 
 
 JACKSON & CO., Publishers, 
 2 Spring Lane, Boston. 
 
 [E7~ Communications to Editors to be addressed— Care of 
 Publishers, 2 spring Lane, Boston. 
 
 PRINTED and PUBLISHED by Jackson & Co., 
 No. 2 Spuing Lake,— BOSTON. 
 
 SUPEKB B<.K)KS ! 1). & J. SADLIKP .^c CO.. invite the 
 attention of booksellers. Dealers, and the public in gen- 
 eral, to their superb collcctiun of Sl,n,.lnr,l fnthahr WnrlcS ! 
 
 iSTANDARD WORKS. LIFE OK THE BLK.SsKD VIR- 
 GIN MARY, i^luTHEK OF OOD: With tbe lii.stury of the 
 Devotions to Her. Bv the Abbe Orsini. Printed on the 
 finest paper, and illustrated with 16 steel engravings, 750 
 pages, Imp. Bvo., at prices from .95 to .'?12. 
 
 D. k J. SADLIEK & Co.. New York, 104 William Street: 
 Boston, 12S Federal Street: .Montreal,cornerol Notre Dame 
 and St. Francis Xavier Streets 
 
 A 
 
 WILLIAMS & CO., Wholesale Agents, for the Iki.=h 
 .. MisoKLLAXV. The Tiadc suiiplied wilh Books, I'e- 
 licals and Kewspapci^s^. Special Agents for Harper & 
 
96 
 
 IHISIl MISCKLLANY. 
 
 SAINT PATRICK. 
 
 WOLF TONE. 
 CorM5ELr.ORTnEOBAi.T> AToi.rTosK— His kesemblasce to Mr. rRoKsn— He is or- 
 
 PKRED TO be HASOED BV A MILITARY COURT — G EM ERA L C'BAIO ATTACnKD IX 
 
 CoiuT OF Common I'i-eab— Tone's Attemvt at Soicidb— Crubl Svgoestioh be- 
 
 PPECTINO HIM. 
 
 Tueobai.d WoLi' Tone wns one of tho moft remarkable of thcperfons who lost tbeir 
 lives in con.'eqneuce of tbnt wild demoerntic mania, wliicli, nt tlic period treated of in 
 tlie former sketch, liad seized npon the renKon of so many othern i«» teneible individu- 
 ul». His cata.strophc can not fail to be interesting. 
 
 This Rentleraan's enthiisiai-tic mind was eternally surrounded by the mist of vi>io«nry 
 Bpociilation: it was a line .lailer but wanted ballast. He had dihtiuguiphrd himself some- 
 what in the University stu a desultorj' declaiincr, b«t in my judgment, that was the full 
 extent of his powers. He was neither hi{»h born, nor wealthy; in fact. I fear even s 
 steady competency was not at his command: and hence his spirit, naturally restlefs, wa« 
 additionally goaded and inflamed. 
 
 It is a curious circumstance that Jtr. Tone, a decided revolutionist, and rebel, married 
 improvidcntly enough, one sister, while Mr. Thomas Kcynolds. who betrayed the friends 
 of Tone and himself, espoused another. 
 
 Tone was called to the Iri.sh bar; but had been previously overrated, and did nottiiceeed. 
 I thought it a pity(as he was n-ally a good-hearted person)tIiat lie should not be fairly tried, 
 and, if possible, pushed forward: and being myself high on the circuit, I took him round 
 in my carriage three times, and then thought well of him; but he was too light and vi- 
 sionary; and as for law, was quite incapable of imbibing that species of science. Jlis 
 pdson was unfavorable— his couutruaucc thin and sallow; and he had in his speech a 
 harsh, gutlunil pronunciation of the letter Ti— a defect shared by him in common with Mr. 
 Croker, of the admiralty, who indeed resembled him in personal appearance greatly, but 
 was somewhat Tone's inferior in elocution 
 
 It is my belief, that Tone could not have succeeded in any steady civil profession. Ho 
 was not worldly enough, nor had he suUicient common sense for bis guidance. His biog- 
 raphy has been rcptaledly published, and I only intend here to allude to the extraordinary 
 circumstances of Lie death; an event upon which I confess I had manv paiolul fcclinga 
 
 and not the lesB so from its being connertiti^ with my 
 own judicial functions. 
 
 lie had been taken in arms by Sir John Borlase 
 Warren nt sea, in a French fii^nte, proccc-ding to 
 land troops in Ireland. He wore the uniform of a 
 French officer, but bcine recoijnispd, liroufjht prikoncr 
 to Dublin, and delivered over for trial to the jirovost- 
 Tuarshiil and military aiithoriiicM, lie was of course oon- 
 demncd to he hani,'ed. I did not sec him under these 
 distressing cireum-ianrcs, nor in truth was it my wish 
 to do so ; for although there existed between oa no ac- 
 tual friendship, still I had a stnmg feeling for a gen- 
 tleman with whom I haj been to well ui-quaintod. 
 
 It occnred to his counsel timt the jurisdiction of 
 martial law could not extend to him, at it only opper- 
 atcd on land, and he had been taken at sea. An ap- 
 plication was therefore made to the common plens, to 
 have him brought up by haleas corpus, in order ( the 
 point being ascertained ) to be regularly tried before 
 the competent tribnnal — the court of admiralty. The 
 An6fO» corpi/s being granted, was sincd on General 
 Craig, who then commanded in Publin, but who re- 
 fused to obey it, and was attached for his disobedience; 
 an order being consequently made for the general and 
 
 some of his staff to be taken into custody by the offi- 
 cors of the court. 
 
 Tome ( adjudge of the admiralty) this appeal was 
 most distressing. Had Tone the least chance of es- 
 cape in any court, or upon any trial, it might have 
 been otherwise ; but he could not be dcfindcd; and 
 to have him brought before me only to witness his 
 conviction, and to pronounce his sentence, shocked 
 me extremely. His friends ihouj^ht thi.s course might 
 prolong his fate a considerable time, and it was siip- 
 po.ied that something might intermediately occur cal- 
 culated to affect a commutation of the capital punish- 
 ment. I knew better ! I wa.s convinced that his exe- 
 cution was iletermined on ; it was unavoidable, and I 
 felt (frfat uncnsincgs. 
 
 The court having ordcn d General Craig, and Ma- 
 jor Sandys ( provost-marshal) to be arrested for diso- 
 bedience, both these gentlemea subinitte<l, and the 
 puraiiivntit was directed to bring up the body of Theo- 
 bald Wolfe Tone, on the writ of hahen.? corpu.s. The 
 judges sat patiently awaiting he officer's return : and 
 the decision being of great importance, the court was 
 crowded to sufToeation. 
 
 A considerable time elapsed, and still the ;>«rsiiifan« 
 returned not. At length he appeared, with horror in 
 
 his looks, and scarcely able to speak, lie informed 
 the court, that Mr. Tone feeling certain of execution 
 by order of the military, and being ignorant of the 
 motion which his friends thought might giveliim some 
 chance for his life, had cut his ihront from car to car, 
 iitid he believed, was dying! A surgion now attend- 
 ed, who reported that the prisoner had certainly (ut 
 his throat, but th:it recovery was possible : the incision 
 was long and deep, but had missed the artery, and he 
 still lived. Of course, the trial was postponed ; every 
 friend he hud (and I think he had many among tho 
 bur), njoicing that poor Tone had escaped a public 
 exei'utiun. He lingered a while : and will it he believ- 
 ed, that when tlic wound had been connected, and 
 while life still seemed precnriims, owing to the extreme 
 inflamation — I say, will it he believfd that there exist- 
 ed cruelly -nflicient in the brciisl of ;iuy human crea- 
 ture to advise his execution — though it would have 
 been impossible to put the sentence in force without 
 inserting the rope within the wound, and nea<-ly tear- 
 ing away the unfortunnte gentleman's head from his 
 body ; Yet such advice was given, ' for the sake of 
 example:' and njeciid, I am happy to say, with 
 horror. I will spare the man who gave it the ignomi- 
 ny which would thence attach to his name were it 
 mcDlioncd. ^ 
 
VOLUME L— NUMBER 7. ] 
 
 BOSTON, SATURDAY, MARCH 27, 1858. 
 
 [ PRICE FOUR CENTS. 
 
 KILKENNY CASTLE. 
 There is perhaps no Baronial residence in Ireland 
 that can boast at the same time of a foundation so an- 
 cient, a situation so magnificent, and so many histori- 
 cal associations, as the princely residence of ' The chief 
 Butler of Ireland ' — Kilkenny Castle. It appears to 
 have been originally erected by Richard de Clare 
 (Strongbow) as early as 1172, but this structure hav- 
 ing been destroyed by Donald O'Brien, King of Lim- 
 erick, it was rebuilt in 1195. William Lord Marshall, 
 Earl of Pembroke, in the possession of wliose descend- 
 
 ants it remained till the year 1391, when it was pur- 
 chased by James Butler, the third Earl of Ormond, 
 from Thomas le Sjjcncer, lord of Glamorgan and Kil- 
 kenny, whose grandfather. Hugh, acquired it and 
 the earldom of Gloucester in marriage with Eleanor 
 de Clare, third sister and co-heir of Gilbert, ninth earl 
 of Clare and Gloucester. From this period to the 
 present il has been the chief residence of the illustri- 
 ous House of Ormond ; and we trust shall long con- 
 tinue so. Here in 1399, the earl had the honor of re- 
 ceiving King Richard II. and of entertaining that sov- 
 
 ereign for fourteen days. In March 1650, when the 
 ciry was invest^fi by Oliver Cromwell, and its defence 
 entrusted to Sir Walter Butler, the cannon of the for- 
 mer were opened on the castle, and a breach was ef- 
 fected on the 25th, about mid-day, but the besiegers 
 were twice gallantly repulsed and the breach was quick- 
 ly repaired. On this occasion, it is said that Cromwell, 
 apprehending a longer resistance than suited the ex- 
 pedition necessary in his military operations at the 
 time, was on the point of quitting the place, when he 
 received overtures from the mayor and townsmen, of- 
 
 KILKENNY CASTLE. 
 
 ering to admit him into the city. He accordingly took 
 possession of Irish town, and being soon after joined 
 by Ireton with 1 500 fresh men, ' Sir Walter Butler, 
 considering the weakness of the garrison, few in num- 
 ber, and those worn out for want of rest by continued 
 watching, and hopeless of relief, determined to execute 
 Lord Castlehaven's orders, which wera that if they 
 were not relieved by seven o'clock the dsiy before, he 
 should not, for any punctilio of honor, expose the towns- 
 men to be massacred, but make as good conditions as 
 he could by a timely surrender. A parley was beaten 
 
 and £ cessation agreed on at twelve o'clock the next 
 day, when the town and castle were delivered up.' The 
 articles of capitulation were highly creditable to the 
 garrison, and it is recorded, that Sir Walter Butler and 
 his officers, when they marched out, were complimen- 
 ted by Cromwell, who said, ' that they were gallant 
 fellows ; that lie had lost more men in storming that 
 place than he had in taking Drogheda, and that he 
 should have gone without it, had it not been for the 
 treachery of the townsmen 1 ' 
 Of the original castle, as rebuilt by the earl of Pem- 
 
 broke, but little now remains. It was an oblong 
 square of magnificent proportions, with four lofty 
 round towers at its angles. This castle was re-edified 
 by the first Duke of Ormond towards the close of the se- 
 venteenth century, in the bad style of architecture then 
 prevailing on the Continent, a taste for which had 
 probably been imbibed by the Duke in his repeated 
 visits to France. It retained, however, three of the an- 
 cient towers, but changed in character and disfigured 
 by fantastic decorations to make them harmonize in 
 style with the newer portions of the building. That 
 
98 
 
 ;il MISCELLANY. 
 
 gtnictnro Una again boon removed by tba proseiit Mar- 1 roasoimble degree of human happiness, or more of 
 qnis, and one of bolter msic, tbo subject of our pro- boulib to the body, iind ngrecnblo oe.upntion to the 
 toiit'engraviiif;, erected on its site, preservinR, howev- j mind. The strictest intention and economy must bo 
 cr.tbo undent towers, iind restoring them tosomctbiiii; unreinitiinL;ly kept up ; and the prudent man will e«l- 
 liko their oripmil chtinictor. The architect is Mr. Kob- culute well bufoi-o ho mnkes an improvement, whether 
 crtson of Kdkenny. it will p.iy him or not, which must in a great meitsure. 
 
 The interior of the cnstio will shortly be adorned dcpeml upon cinunistunces; such ns his term or lease, 
 with il» original colleeiiun of ancient tapestries and &c. This will be tlie more necessary, as they are few 
 
 pictures, valuable ili works of art, but still more as 
 memorials of some of the most distinguished historical 
 personages of the two last centuries. 
 
 who liavo made any thing liko a handsome indepen- 
 dence by farming, the most hard-working men often 
 closing a long life in the same, or probably little better 
 
 Nothing, as we have already observed, can bo finer | circumstances, than those in which they began. In 
 than the sitmition of Kilkenny Castle— placed on a short, a livelihood is all that a reasonable man can 
 
 lofty eminence immediately overhanging that charm- 
 ing river — 
 
 — ' tlic elubbom Xcwre, whose waters grey 
 liy fair Kilkcmiyiiuil liossc-poute board.' 
 In a fntnro number wc shall give some account of 
 the beautiful cathedral and abbey churches for which 
 Kilkenny is so justly celebrated. 
 
 ON THE PROFITS OF FARMING. 
 Evcrv man about to embark in farming, should 
 make it a fixed rule, not to extend hiiiiself more than 
 his capital will admit of ; and, above all, he must be 
 cautious that it is not infringed upon towards the pay- 
 ment of his rents ; which may, even where the great- 
 est activity and intelligence is brought into play, be 
 sometimes the case, when produce is depreciated. 
 Losses may be comiiensated for in succeeding seasons; 
 but it seems, I think, pretty generally allowed thai 
 great profits are not now to be made, more particularly 
 in the tillage way. 
 
 If the ai/ricullurist deducts all his expenses, keeping 
 an account for five years, to enable him to have an av- 
 erage, (which is the only fair way,) it is more than 
 probable he will find that his profits will not return 
 suflicent compensation. Some few, under advantage- 
 ous circumstances, such as good markets, and a few 
 successive good years, may think otherwise ; but ex- 
 perience will show that reverses may come about and 
 reduce their profits. 
 
 Trade and commerce are much more likely meth- 
 ods of attaining wealth than agriculture; and Great 
 Britain, if solely an agricultural country, could not 
 liave attained the rank she now holds among nations. 
 However, as agriculture and commerce generally go 
 hand in hand, if she had not attained the first rank as 
 to one, she probably never would have attained it as 
 to the other. 
 
 Grazing, however, has many advantages over tillage, 
 being attended with less expense, and money is often 
 made by trading in cattle and tjuick transfers. Many 
 of those farmers or graziers, who are now wealthy, 
 having laid the foimdation of their wealth m this way. 
 — Buying and selling of stock with judicious specula- 
 tion has often added considcrabhy to a small capital. 
 It may however be asserted, with little risk of con- 
 tradiction, that no cmbarkment of capital, generally 
 speaking, afi'ords less i)rofitthan farming. The man 
 who follows the jilough is he who can live best by 
 tillage ; and, in Ireland, where from want of sulTieient 
 employment, agricultural labor is at the lowest value, 
 the peasant and small landholder may follow it toad- 
 vantage comparatively, at least so far as regards 
 labor. 
 
 Tillage may be combined with grazing, to a cer- 
 tain extent, advantageously, but extensive tillage will 
 not in this country-, at least, afi'ord a(le()uate remuner- 
 ation. The farmer who is embarked in both branches, 
 if he means, to manage matttrs well, and with even 
 tolerable success, must give his time almost wholly and 
 pcrscveringly np to it. lie must be experienced and 
 reflective, and, if he is endowed with a little foresight, 
 so much the better. There is no business in which it 
 is more necessary to regulate matters so as that one 
 operation shall not delay or interfere^wiih another, so 
 as that none may be neglected, but all perfected in 
 detail. To men of well rcgiilntcd minds this will 
 come easy, and rural pursuits of all kinds will prove 
 agreeable to those disposed to the study of nature, nor 
 is there any employment better calculated to afford a 
 
 look to ; as to making a fortune, that is now almost 
 entirely out of the iiuestion. And if too much in the- 
 ory or speculation is attempted, he who makes the 
 trial will find Ids mistake, probably, when too late. 
 
 Improvement, nevertheless, in all its brandies 
 must bo followed up with strict attention to economy ; 
 but unless a man has a fortune at his back sufiicient to 
 bear him through, (when ho may be at liberty to 
 please himself) let him not be led into whimsical or 
 extravagant expenses : neither should the young man of 
 fortune, on coming to his property, if his mind should 
 turn to agricultural pursuits, deceive himself, by vis- 
 ionary profits, prematurely estimated or anticipated, 
 and which arc not to be realized. It is not the wish of 
 the writer, to damp the sanguine expectations of such 
 young men ; but there are sedate and refiecting minds 
 even among such, who will profit as they go along, 
 by experience, and take caution from the mistakes of 
 their neighbors ; raral persuits will also become agreea- 
 ble to such, and a strong inducement to reside in the 
 country, and at the same time aftbrd employment and 
 a livelihood to those about them. Besides, to such 
 persons, there is a constant variety in looking after the 
 trees, shrubs, fruits, crops, &c. which they plant, and 
 see grow and thrive under their care ; and which are 
 presenting themselves, alw.iys, under some renewed 
 form, rendering agriculture, planting, and gardening, 
 the most agreeable, and least tiresome, of human pur- 
 suits. — Lambert. 
 
 FINE ARTS. 
 Historic sJcetch of the past and present state of the Fine 
 Arts in Ireland. 
 [A portion of the following essay, has been already pub- 
 lished in the Dublin Literary Gazette, but omng to 
 various causes it was never completed. We now by 
 the permission of the Author, present it to the public 
 in a new and conected form — illustrated with charac- 
 teristic embellishments, from ancient remains] 
 
 The Fine Arts properly so called, or the arts of 
 Painting, Sculpture, and Architecture, have never 
 hitherto, in Ireland, had their chronicle, or indeed, re- 
 ceived the sliglitest aid from the literature of their 
 country. It would lie easy to assign probable and suf- 
 ficient causes for such neglect, but in this place it is 
 enough to state the fact, coupled as it is with its mel- 
 ancholy consci|uence, that whenever genius of a higher 
 order has a))peaied among us, and smli instances have 
 not been uncommon, wc have rarely discovered how it 
 should have been appreciated, till it had fled forever 
 from our shores. 
 
 But brighter prospects appear to be at length open- 
 ing ; great changes have at length taken place in the 
 political world, and if the expected results be realized, 
 as we trust they will, the Fine Arts must participate 
 in the blessing, and their amiable professors sec better 
 days. Our minds, no longer engaged in the harrowing 
 broils of political and religious strife, will seek the 
 soft and humanizing enjoyments which the cultivation 
 of the ta-stc can alone impart, nnd we shall find our re- 
 ward in the acquisition of anew sense more ennobling 
 to our nature, and more closely allied to the Divinity, 
 than those already enjoyed in common with the lower 
 animals. A green field ' and nothing more ' tons, for 
 we shall have acquired the power of seeing the un- 
 speakable beauty as well as wisdom exhibited in all 
 llie works of the Creator ; and that beauty cannot fail | any other in Europe 
 
 ertiona to become worthy of a higher state of exist- 
 ence. 
 
 The early civilization of Ireland has been a favorite 
 theme with the Irish writers of Milesian origin, for 
 nearly two centuries, while all claims to any removal 
 from utter barbarism previous to the arrival of the Eng- 
 lish, have generally been denied with equal warmth by 
 Anglo-Irish and other writers. Prejudices, springing , 
 cliicHy from political feelings, have equally blinded both 
 sides, and an able and iniparlial work on the ancient j 
 state of Ireland is still a dcBidcratum. We may smile i 
 at the description of the ' Architectonical magnificence ' 
 of the Palace of Eamiinia, erected .'JS4 years before our 
 lera, given on the authority of a Bardic writer in the 
 magniloquent pages of O'Connor, or laugh outright at 
 the visionary O'llalloran's account of the sculptured 
 cfligies on the tombs of the Pagan Kings at the Royal 
 Cemetery of Cruachan, derived from the poem of Tor- 
 na Egcas, a bard of the fourth century. The very 
 passages cited, so far from being evidence for the cir- 
 cumstances they relate, are only stubborn proofs of 
 the comparatively modern manufacture of the poems 
 in which they occur. Yet we are not rashly to infer 
 that the ancient Iri.sh must necesarily have been sav- 
 age, because enthusiastic writers have endeavored to 
 prove them civilized on insufficient data. Let us look' 
 at the other side, and we shall find the charges of ignor- ' 
 ance and barbarism resting on lio lietter foundation. 
 One or two examples will suflice. ' There is at this 
 day,' says Sir William Petty, ' no monument or real 
 argument, that when the Irish were first invaded, they 
 had any stone housing at all, any money, any foreign 
 trade, nor any learning but the legend of the Saints, 
 Psalter, Missals, Rituals, &c., viz., no Geometry, As- 
 tronomy, Anatomy, Architecture, Engineery, Painting, 
 Carving, nor any kind of Manufacture, nor the least 
 use of Navigation or the Art military.' Wo cannot 
 laugh at this tirade, for we confess we have some drops 
 of Milesian blood in our veins, but in Sir William's 
 own style, we shall for the present observe, that we 
 have abundant monuments and real arguments, to 
 prove that the above remarks, as applied by him to tho 
 period immediately preceding the arrival of the Eng- 
 lish, are a tissue of falsehoods, without any the least 
 admixture of truth. Yet his is moderate language com- 
 pared with that of the learned but dogmatic John Pink- 
 erton. 'The contest,' ho observes, 'between those 
 Irish writers and the literati of Europe, is the most 
 risible in the world. The former say, their country 
 was highly civilized, had letters and academies as tlio 
 Greeks and Romans. The latter say, the Greeks we 
 know, and the Romans we know, but who are ye ? 
 Those Greeks and Romans pronounce you not only 
 barbarous, but utterly savage. Where are your au- 
 thorities against this ? In the name of science, of ar- 
 gument, of common sense, where are the slightest 
 marks of ancient civilization among you '! Where are 
 ruins of cities ? Where inscriptions ; Where ancient 
 coins? Where is the least trace of ancient art or sci- 
 ence in your whole island ? The old inhabitants of j 
 your country, the wild Irish, the true Milesian breed, | 
 untainted wi'h Go hie blood, wc know to be rude clans ' 
 to this day. Can a nation once civilized become sav- ' 
 age ! Impofsiblc. Such a nation may bo lost in ef- ' 
 fominacy, as the modern Italians and Greeks, but will " 
 ever bear marks of the excess, not the want of civiliza- 
 tion." Alilcsian reader, what say you to all this ? You 
 are struck dumb. Well, we shall lake up the shillelagh 
 in your defence for a few moments. You, John Pink- 
 erton, say, that ' the Greeks and Romans pronounce 
 us not only barbarous but utterly savage.' We answer 
 — it is perfectly certain that the Greeks <ind Romans 
 knew hardly any thing about us. Tacitus, the only 
 early writer who had any authentic information, says, 
 that our harbors were better known to merchants than, 
 those of Britain. You ask, 'In the name of science,' 
 of argument, of common sense, where are tho slii;htest" 
 marks of ancient ciWlizntion amongst us V We an- 
 swer, in our ancient monarchy, which, you yourself 
 acknowledge, has higher claims to the antiquity than 
 In our ancient institutions, our 
 
 of snterin"- deep into our sonis, and of aiding our ex- I Brehon laws, our music, our poetry, and our menu- 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 99 
 
 mental remains. ' Where are ruins of cities V Ptolemy, 
 a Greek geograplier of the second century, marks nine 
 cities of note in liis map of [rclanil, and considerable 
 remains of some of these are yet to be seen. ' Where 
 inscriptions V Many have been discovered, not in- 
 cluding the impudent forgery on Callan mountain. 
 ' Where ancient coins ?' We acknowledge we have 
 none. But you yourself tell us, that it was perhaps a 
 thousand ycai-s befoie our era, that the Phoenicians 
 traded to Britain and Ireland, (agreeing pretty nearly 
 ■with the calculations of our native writers.J and you 
 elsewhere say, thai the Phnenicians did not coin money 
 till six hundred years later. Do you expbet our Plio;- 
 nician ancestors should have had coins (iOO years be- 
 fore they had learned to make them ? You also say 
 elsewhere, that ' had the Phoenicians settled in any 
 part of Britain or Ireland, their usual splendor would 
 have attended them, a few Phccnician coins,' you add, 
 ' may perhaps be found in Britain and Ii-eland, a cir- 
 cumstance naturally to be expected from their trading 
 there, but had there been any settlements, there would 
 have been ruins and numerous coins struck at the set- 
 tlement, as at all those in Spain.' To all this, it is on- 
 ly necessary to reply, that there are no remains of 
 Phoenician cities now to he found in Spain, and that 
 the Punic coins and inscriptions found there, are clearly 
 of Carthagenian origin, and consequently cannot claim 
 a very remote antiquity. Had the Irish asserted a 
 descent from the Carthagenians, the want of such in- 
 scriptions and coins would be conclusive against them ; 
 but as the learned Lord Ross, (then Sir L. Parsons,) 
 observes, no writer of note has ever said so, and we 
 refer the reader to that distinguished nobleman's ' De- 
 fence of the Ancient History of Ireland,' for conclusive 
 arguments on that point. Mr. Pinkerton finally shouts, 
 ' Where is the least trace of ancient art or science in 
 your whole island V We respond, they are exhibited 
 abundantly in the numerous antiquities of gold, silver, 
 and bronze dug up every day in all parts of Ireland, 
 and similar to the most ancient remains of the Greeks, 
 Egyptians and Phoenicians. Our gold crowns, collars, 
 bracelets, anklets, our brazen swords, spears, and do- 
 mestic vessels— our cinerary urns, our cairns with 
 sepulchral chambers, which are not to be paralelled in 
 the British isles — and lastly, in those Cyclopean works, 
 agreeing identically with those in the islands, and on 
 the shores of the Mediterranean, universally attributed 
 to the Phoenicians. These are the evidences of the ear- 
 ly colonization of Ireland, by a civilized people, which 
 her antiquaries should rely on, and not the dreams of 
 visionary etymologists, or the traditions preserved, 
 and perhaps distorted, by monkish chroniclers, and 
 ignorant bards. If a judicious selection of the antique 
 monuments and other remains found in Ireland, were 
 carefully drawn by some competent artist, and pub- 
 lished, our claims to an early civilization would be in- 
 stantly conceded by the unprejudiced and learned. 
 
 But while we thus support the theories of Milesian 
 writers, we are far from asserting that a knowledge of 
 the Fine Arts was introduced into the country in those 
 remote times. It would be folly to ground such a 
 supposition upon idle conjecture; and there is little 
 else on which to found it. Infant colonies do not often 
 carry a knowledge of ihe Fine Arts along with them ; 
 they are only to be found where wealth, luxury and 
 peace have fixed their abode. The domestic arts, the 
 traditions, the religion, the poetry, and the music of a 
 people, will accompany them every where, because 
 these are fixed in their minds, and transferred from gen- 
 eration to generation. The Irish colonists, we are told, 
 brought with them their priest, their artificer, their 
 bard, and their musician : but we hear nothing of their 
 painter, their sculptor, or their architect. What re- 
 mains of the Fine Arts have the Romans left in Brit- 
 , ain f Their relics are only monuments of barbarism. 
 Yet, unquestionably, they colonized that island at the 
 periodof their greatest refinement. What knowledge 
 of the Fine Arts have the British colonies of America, 
 at the present day i Besides, we are in great ignor- 
 'lanceas to the length the Phceniiinns had proceeded at 
 this early time, in the cultivation of those arts. Idolatry, 
 or image worship, which may be called the parent of 
 
 sculpture, was as yet unknown to them, and the column 
 and the arch were not introduced into architecture for 
 ages after. The existing remains of ancient edifices 
 in Europe, attributed to the Phocinicians, are remark- 
 able only for a rude and simple grandeur. The only 
 indications of taste in the arts of design, previous to 
 the introduction of Christianity, discoverable in Ire- 
 land, are those which our antiquities exhibit. Our 
 gold and silver ornaments, bronze weapons, and domes- 
 tic vessels, are often elegant in design and workman- 
 ship ; and some of our sepulchral urns, ornamented 
 with mouldings in bas-relief, shew, at least, an ac- 
 quaintance with the forms in use among a refined peo- 
 ple. A few small bronze figures have been found in 
 our bogs, and ignorantly called idols, but most of them 
 are evidently Christian ; and the one or two which are 
 not so — figures of victory on a globe, the ornament of 
 a standard — look like imitations of Roman-British 
 work, or were, perhaps, actual spoils of the Scots in 
 Britain. P. 
 
 [to be continued.] 
 
 INDIVIDUAL EXERTION,— MR. BIANCONI. 
 
 Individual exertion is often far more beneficial in 
 contributing to the welfare of a country than either na- 
 tional expense or legislative bounty. If inquiry be 
 made into the causes of England's prosperity, it will 
 be found that single-handed and individual activity has 
 had a prodigious share in promoting it; and the inge- 
 nuity of a Watt and an Arkwright has discovered new 
 sources of wealth, and cut a channel for that current 
 of enterprise which, swelling into a mighty torrent, has 
 enabled Britain to rise far above the nations of the 
 earth. Really, when we hear people complain of the 
 want of national support, we are apt to think that the 
 fahle of the Waggoner might be quoted not inappro- 
 priately, and ' put your shoulder to the wheel,' might 
 be whispered in many a murmurer's ear. Now, as we 
 are in a prodigious egotistical mood, we will exempli- 
 fy this by an example. Our little Journal is unblest 
 by committee patronage, and unheralded by great 
 names ; it has nothing but its own penny trumpet 
 to sound its praises ; yet, like Poucit with his seven- 
 leagued boots, it has measured the length and breadtli 
 of the land. It is in the hands of the sheplierd on the 
 rocks of Magilligan ; it is peruse 1 by the Kerry man, 
 as he drives home his ' tiny cattle,' along"the sea 
 where frowns Mac Gillicuddy'.s Heels; Cork aud Bel- 
 fast, Londonderry and Limerick, Waterford, andWick- 
 low, Westport and Wexford, and every town and vil- 
 lage in Ireland, are receiving the Dublin Penny Jour- 
 nal ; and Edinburgh, the 'modern Athens,' the region 
 of Reviews and Magazines, the seat of the Muses, and 
 the very Vomestead of fancy and philosophy, in whose 
 nostrils a Dublin production was naught, and who 
 would fain wiite it down that Dublin is ' without the 
 pale' of literary enterprise, the very Irish Boetia, is 
 absolutely astoni.-hed by the ' face of brass' which 
 we have presented ! But enough of this for the pre- 
 sent. 
 
 There is an individu.al in Ireland, who, though a for- 
 eigner, has 'done the state some servhe,' and exem- 
 plifies in his person what an individual by persevering 
 exertion may do. This gentleman is Mr. Charles 
 BiANCONi, a native of Italy. He came into this coun- 
 try as a print-seller, and in travelling fiom village 
 to village , and from town to town, exercising his 
 vocation, he felt, as many a man has felt before 
 him, and may after, how toilsome it is to trudge on 
 foot under a burning sun or amid the storms of win- 
 ter : so he shrewdly bethought him, that if he had a 
 juuntinij car, and, of course, an animal to draw it, he 
 might not only save his own body corporate some fa- 
 tigue; and carry his wares with speed and ease, but by 
 occasionally picking up pedestrians at a small charge, 
 contribute not a little to defray the expenses of his ve- 
 hicle. For three months his speculation did not dis- 
 play itself as a peculiarly happy one ; but by-and-bye 
 he became known, bis car became in request, he start- 
 ed a second one, then a third, and so on, until he has 
 covered all the ro.ids in the south of Ireland with his 
 
 cars, which radiating from Clonmel as a centre, con- 
 nect the following towns : — 
 
 Ballinasloe, Eyrecourt, Parsonstown, 
 
 Ballyhale, Fermoy, Rathcormuck, 
 
 Banagher, Fethard, Roserea, 
 
 Burrosoleigh, Freshford, Ross, 
 
 Burrosakane, Foulk's-mill, Shinrong, 
 
 Caher, Kilkenny, Strangford, 
 
 Cashel, Knocktopher, Stonepound, 
 
 Carlow, Kilmacthomas, Taghmon, 
 
 Carrick, Killdorrery, Thurlcs, 
 
 Clogheen, Limerick, Tipperary, 
 
 Cork, Littleton, Templemore, 
 
 Dungarvan, Mallow, Uriingford, 
 
 Doneraile, Mitchelstown, Watergrass-hill, 
 
 Enniscorthy, Nenagh, Wexford. 
 
 In travelling to these towns Mr. Bianconi has up- 
 wards of three huudred horses, gives employment to 
 upwards of one hundred and twenty families, causes a 
 consumption of above nine hundred tons of hay, and 
 twelve hundred barrels of oats, annually, and his cars 
 travel above eighteen hundred miles daily. He is now 
 principal contractor in the South of Ireland for con- 
 veying His Majesty's mails on cross roads by cars. 
 
 Before Mr. Bianconi established his cars, the 
 travelling vehicles in use were only four-horse 
 coaches, confined to what are termed the mail-coach 
 roads, and the fares were too high for the humbler 
 class of farmers and tradesmen, whose business 
 often calls them from home. Now this enterprising 
 and spirited foreigner has laid open the entire south, 
 and done more good than a host of half-resident land- 
 lords. A few years ago, to travel in the south of 
 Ireland was an adventure not to be rashly made, now, 
 there is free and easy, and rapid intercourse, and the 
 numerous cross roads are all rendered available, and 
 turned to good account. 
 
 Not long ago, in entering Mr. Bianconi's office at 
 Clonmel, in order to procure a seat in one of his cars 
 for Cashel, we were surprised to see the walls covered 
 not witli glaring advertisements, notices of auctions 
 and sherift"s sales, but with some of the very best 
 prints taken from the works of the great masters. — 
 'Why,' we muttered to ourselves, 'this carman must 
 be a man of taste !' By-and-bye a very comely, dark- 
 eyed person came in, and seemed to take an active in- 
 terest in the affairs of the establishment. This was 
 Mr. Bianconi ; and having occasion to address him, 
 we found him polite and affable, and could have wa- 
 gered a guinea to a groat, that he was born to be a 
 gentleman. 
 
 Many stories are told of Mr. Bianconi, which reflect 
 great credit on his head and his heart. For instance, 
 it is said that his drivers have a general order to pick 
 up, free of charge, all pedestrians who evidently can- 
 not pay for a whirl, and who seem to be travelling with 
 pain to themselves. In giving this order, he has shown 
 the gallantry of his country, by specially directing that 
 any female travelling with a child in her arms, should 
 be accommodated with a seat. Moreover, the slight- 
 est hint of misconduct on the part of a driver — the 
 least whisper of an accusation, if well-founded — sub- 
 jects the delinquent to instant dismissal; andsoiiware 
 are they of this, that the drivers of Bianconi's cars are 
 as civil a set of fellows as you would wish to see han- 
 dle a whip. 
 
 Again, all his horses have names, and these names 
 are regularly inserted in his way bills. In fact, his 
 ' dumb brutes' are his pet children ; he knows each of 
 them familiarly, and it would not, pei-haps, be going 
 too far, to say, that they know him ! He can tell where 
 ;hev are, whether they^are well or sick, how they are be- 
 having themselves, and every thing relative to these 
 ' dear children' which the father of so numerous and 
 so well-regulated a family ought to know. 
 
 Bravo, Mr. Bianconi, thou art an enterprising, sen- 
 sible, discreet, and proper person ; and if Ireland had 
 many more such, foreigner as thou art, she would 
 bless the day they landed op her shores. He has late- 
 ly obtained letters of naturalization from the govern- 
 ment — ' CEAD MILLE FAILTE.' 
 
100 
 
 HUSH MISCKLLANV. 
 
 BLARNEY CASTLE. 
 
 There u> not oue of our renders who has not heard of 
 
 ' Thf (-rovfS ol' Ulimiey, 
 
 Tlif)- ari'tio cliurmliig,' 
 and the subject of our wood-cut might naturally tempt 
 us to he niiriliful and cxtravapanl. But ilespito of 
 MiUiken's excellent >on|; — we arc not in the vein, and 
 feel more di.-posed to melanelioly than gaiety at sight 
 of a noble casile, the seat of one of the roost ancient, 
 and most unfortunate princely families of Ireland — the 
 Mac Cartys of Desmond. 
 
 The castle of Blarney was founded about the middle 
 of the fifteenth century by Comiac Mac Carty, or Car- 
 thy, sumamed Laider, or the strong, descended from 
 tlie hereditary kings of South-Munster. He was also 
 founder of the beautiful abbey and castle of Kilcrea, 
 the nunnery of Ballyvacadine, and many other religi- 
 ous houses, in the former of which he was buried, and 
 in which his tomb was till within a few years to be 
 seen, bearing the following inscription : — 
 
 ' Hie. Jacet. Cormacus. fil. Thaii. til. Cormac. fil. 
 Dermitii. magni. Mc Carihy, Duus. de. Muscraigh. 
 Flayn. ac. istius. couventus. Primus. Fundator.An. 
 Dom. 1494. 
 
 The castle remained in possession of his descendants 
 till forfeited with the extensive estates belonging to the 
 lord Mui-kery and Clanc4irthy , in the war of 1G89, af- 
 ter which it came into the possession of the JelVrey's 
 family, to whom it still belongs. A pension of three 
 hundred a year was however allowed to this unfortu- 
 nate nobleman, on condition of his leaving the king- 
 dom. ' With this,' says Smith, 'he retired to Hamburg 
 on the Elbe, and purchased a little island in the mouth 
 of that rivor, from the citizens cf Altona, which went 
 by his name.' He died here October 22, 1734, aged 64, 
 leaving two sons, liobert, a captain in the English 
 navy, commonly called Lord Muskery, and Justin Mac 
 Carthy, Esq. Lord Muskery, having fallen under sus- 
 picions of being attached to the house of Stewart, j 
 ' which had on a former occasion," remarks Charnoek, 
 in his Biographia Navalis, ' proved the ruin ot his 
 father, was ordered to bo struck off the list of naval 
 officers, on the IGth July, 1749. He afterwards enter- 
 ed into foreign services.' 
 
 ' Such,' says Mr. Crofton Croker, in his excellent 
 ' Researches in the South of Ireland,' is the history of 
 the once powerful Mac Cartys of Muskery ; that of 
 the other branches of the same family, as well as of 
 most Irish elans, closely resemble it ; attainder, for- 
 
 feitaro of property and exile from the melancholy Icr 
 minatioD of each, and the circumstances and situations 
 which have arisen and still arise out of such violent 
 events arc numerous and deci)ly atVecling. Instances 
 have occured where the lineal desiendants of the most 
 distiuguisjied houses have labored from day to day for 
 precarious support on the lands over which their ances- 
 tors exercised unlimited sovereignty. A pathetic in- 
 cident connected with the Mac Cartys has such claims 
 on the feelings that I will not conoUulc this narrative 
 of their fortunes without the mention of it. A con- 
 siderable part of the forfeited estates of that family, 
 
 in the county Cork, was held Viy Mr. S about tlio 
 
 middle of the last century. Walking one evening ia 
 his demesne, he observed a figure, apparently asleep, 
 at the foot of an aged tree, and, on approaching the 
 spot, found an old man extended on the ground, whoso 
 audible sobs proclaimed the severest affliction. Mr. 
 S infjuired the cause, and was answered — ' For- 
 give me, sir ; my grief is idle, but to mourn is a relief 
 to the desolate heart and humbled spirit. I am a Mac 
 Carty, once the possessor of that castle, now in ruins 
 and of this ground ; — this tree was planted by my 
 own hands, and I have returned to water its roots with 
 my tears. Tomorrow I sail for Spain, where I have 
 
 long been an exile and an outlaw since the Kevolution. 
 I am an old man, and to-night, probably for the last 
 time bid farewell to the place of my birth and the home 
 of my forefathers.' 
 
 The military and historic recollections connected 
 with Blarney are doubtless of sufficent imporlanae to 
 give an interest to the place : but to a curious super- 
 stition it is perhaps more indebted for celebrity. A 
 stone in the highest part of tlie castle wall is pointed 
 out to visitors, which is supposed to give to whoever 
 kisses it the peculiar privilege ot deviating from ve- 
 racity with unblushing countenance whenever it may 
 be convenient — hence the well known phrase of 
 ' Blarney.' 
 
 The grounds attached to the castle, as I before ob- 
 served, though so little attended to, are still beautiful. 
 "Walks, which a few years since were neat and trim, 
 are now so overrun with brambles and wild flowers as 
 to be passed with difficulty. Much wood has also 
 been cut down, and the statues, so ridiculously enu- 
 merated in a popular song, removed. A picturesque 
 bridge too, which led to the castle, has been swept 
 away by the wintrv- floods, and, with the exception of 
 a small dell called the Rock Close, every thing seems 
 changed for the worse. In this romantic spot nature 
 
 BLARNEY CAbTLE. 
 
 and art (a combination rather uncommon in pleasure 
 grounds) have gone hand in hand. Advantage has 
 been taken of accidental circumstances to form taste- 
 ful and characteristic combinations ; and it is really a 
 matter of diflSculty at first to determine what is primi- 
 tive, and what the produce of detign. The delusion is 
 even heightened by the present total neglect. You 
 come most unexpectedly into this little shaded nook, 
 and stand upon a natural terrace above the river, 
 which glides as calmy as possible beneath. Here, if 
 you feel inclined for comlcmplation, a rustic couch of 
 rock, all festooned with moss and ivy, is at your ser- 
 vice ; but if adventurous feelings urge you to explore 
 farther, a discovery is made of an almost concealed, 
 irregularly excavated passage through the solid rock, 
 which is descended by a rude flight of stone steps, 
 called the ' Witches' Stairs,' and you emerge sul mar- 
 giiie d un, no, over which depend some light and 
 graceful trees. It is indeed a fairy scene, and I know 
 of no place where I could sooner imagine these little 
 elves holding their moon-light revelry. 
 
 MANAGEMENT OF LAND. 
 
 The attention of every farmer should now be given 
 
 to get his stubble lands ploughed, destroying the root 
 
 weeds, and laying it into such sized ridgep, as wilt 
 keep it dry during the winter. Where the quantity 
 of land is small, and any of the family able to work, 
 this will be more advantageously done with the spade. 
 Land that lies on the slope of a hill, should not be 
 ploughed directly up and down, as that exposes tlie 
 best of the soil and manure to be washed away by 
 heavy rain. The man who ploughs and cleans his 
 land before Christmas, will have Kisure the following 
 spring and summer to sow all his crops in the early 
 part of their several seasons, by wliieh he will not only 
 have the bsst chance for a good crop, but he will 
 gain time to attend to his fences, and ditches, and 
 many other things now, so much to their own loss, 
 neglected by small farmers. Root weeds should not be 
 suffered to remain ; wherever they are met, they should 
 be raised and carried off, to bottom the dung heap; 
 turning up the land at this season and before winter, 
 is very destructive of worms and grubs, by their ex- 
 posure to frost ; in short the advantages of winter 
 ploughing are so many, that if all the farracs, large 
 and small, would reflect on them, they would make 
 every exertion to liave their land ploughed before 
 Christmas. — Cottager's Friend. 
 
IRISH fflSCELLANY. 
 
 101 
 
 [coNcocDED rnOM PAGE 103.] I parts, and, on the whole, affording abundant oppor- 
 
 peoplo used to doscund by the roof into some of the tmiities for the application of human skill and judg- 
 
 apartments that were not filled up, but now notliing is 
 to be seen. Tlie Spirit of the Western Ocean has ris- 
 en in his wralh, and realized here the description 
 Bruce gives of tlio moving pillars of sand in the des- 
 erts of Senuaar ; gives of the destruction of the army 
 of Ca-nbjscs in the Nubian desert. The reader may- 
 pardon rae for quoting it, 
 
 ' Gnomes, o'er the -waste, you led your myriad powers, 
 
 Climb'd on the whirls, and nim'd the flinty showers; 
 
 Ouward resistless rolls tlic inj-uriate surge. 
 
 Clouds follow clouds, and mouutiiins mountains urge; 
 
 "Wave over wave the driving desert swims, 
 
 Burst o'er their heads, inhumes their struggling limbs ; 
 
 Man mounts on man, on camels camels rush. 
 
 Hosts march o'er hosts, and nations nations crush: 
 
 ■Wheeling iu air, the winged islands fall— 
 
 And one great sandy ocean covers all I' 
 
 THE RIVER SHANNON. 
 We extract the folio-wing facts relative to this river 
 from a pamphlet published by C. W. Williams, Esq. 
 It demonstrates what might be done by improvements 
 in Ireland. 
 
 ' The river Shannon, unequalled in the British em- 
 pire, embraces 234 miles of continuous navigation ; and 
 from the circumstances of its running through the cen- 
 tre of the kingdom, may be compared, for the pur- 
 poses of intercourse, to double that length of coast. The 
 advantages of water conveyance are thus presented 
 to an extent of country equal to the whole line of coast 
 between Belfast and Cork ; or to more than the entire 
 eastern coast of England. 
 
 ' The great feature of this extraordinary river is its 
 diversified character. For a distance of 60 miles from 
 the sea to the city of Limerick, it presents a magnifi- 
 cent estuary and tide way, without bar or other inpedi- 
 ment whatever, and with a flood equal to a height of 
 20 feet at' the city quays. This part of the river pos- 
 sesses several deep bays or inlets, and receives the wa- 
 ters of several rivers, some of which enjoy the tide-way 
 for a considerable distance up their channels, and all 
 susceptible of great improvement. By these, the ben- 
 efit of -water conveyance may be extended to many 
 rising towns, and to extensive, rich, populous, and, we 
 may add, disturbed districts. 
 
 ' The great estuary of the Fergus, extending 10 
 miles to the town of Clare, with the means of exten- 
 sion to Ennis, the capital of the county of Clare, here 
 pushes the benefit of navigation into the centre of a 
 district unrivalled, perhaps, in Britain, for depth and 
 fertility of soil. 
 
 ' Above Limerick to Killaloe the navigation is va- 
 ried, being part still water and part river. 
 
 'From Killaloe in the county of Clare, to its source 
 in the county of Lietrim, the river assumes a great va- 
 riety of character. In some places it stretches out in- 
 to seas, or lakes, two of whicli, Lough Derg and Lough 
 Rea, are above 2u British miles long each. In other 
 parts the river assimilates itself more to that of the 
 river navigations of England, with the combined ad- 
 vantages of sailing and tracking, as seen in the Tliames, 
 the Mersey, and the Severn. In otlier parts, forms a 
 succession of small lakes, peculiarly in want of artifi- 
 cial helps, which, however, the use of steam navigation 
 would completely overcome ; and, lastly, in many sit- 
 
 I nations, it approaches almost to still-water navigation. 
 The falls and rapids, which on the whole river amount 
 to an elevation of 146 feet 10 inches, are overcome by 
 
 : lateral canals and locks. Throughout its course, how- 
 ■l ever, it possesses the rare quality of having a sufficient 
 
 II depth of water for all the purposes of internal intcr- 
 j{ course. From this diversity of character, it is mani- 
 I fest how much its navigation is open to improvements 
 l[ by the removal of difficulties and obstructions: — the ad- 
 ij ding trackways ; constructing small harbors, quays 
 i and landing places, and making approaches to tlie 
 I same; widening and raising arches of bridges; estab- 
 j lishing beacons and other guides to aid the navigator 
 i| through the intricacy and windings of its channels, and 
 
 in seasons when the water extends beyond its natural 
 course: — the cutting the banks and dcejiening many 
 
 ment. 
 
 In afi these respects, notwithstanding the sums 
 which have been expended on it during the last cen- 
 tury, the Shannon, with such unquestionable latent 
 resources, presents a lamentable picture of groat ne- 
 glect — great misapplication of power— great ignorance 
 of its resources — great want of enterprise, and even 
 worldly wisdom on the part of its natural protectcrs 
 and patrons, tlie owners of the towns and^villages and 
 the soil, in its vicinity, and throughout its entire course. 
 ' The Shannon washes the shores of 10 counties out 
 of 32, vi:. Lietrim, Roscommon, Longford, West- 
 meath, King's County, Galway, Tipperary, Clare, 
 Limerick and Kerry. All of these are abundant in 
 population, and susceptible of receiving great exten- 
 sion and improvement in their agriculture ; and al- 
 though many of them are periodically exposed to the 
 greatest distress, and even famine, yet are without the 
 power of mutual relief or co-operation. 
 
 ' Taken then the double length of coast which the 
 ten counties present to the navigation, at 500 miles ; 
 and which, considering the extent of the bays, inlets 
 and rivers, is under the fact ; it leaves an average of 
 50 miles of coci.s'( to each county. This fact alone is 
 sufficiently indicative of what may be done through 
 the instrumentality of this one river. 
 
 ' Running from North to South, the several counties 
 on the Shannon naturally present great diversity of 
 soil and even climate. Some of the counties are 
 mountainous, with deep productive vallies, on which 
 may be cheaply fed vast quantities of sheep and cattle. 
 Other counties are flat and humid, yet susceptible of 
 great amelioration from the labor of their population, 
 under the guidance of skill and capital. Several with 
 soils on a substratum of limestone, are in all seasons 
 warm and dry, and peculiarly adapted to the produc- 
 tion of the finest qualities of grain and other produce ; 
 while some to the southward, possess deep and tena- 
 cious soils, requiring strong manures and much la- 
 boring. 
 
 ' Under such circumstances it is evident that the 
 several parts of this great territory must be variously 
 affected by the seasons. Wet seasons are beneficial 
 to some, and almost ruinous to others. Some are 
 abundant iu seasons of drought, which bring scarcity 
 and even famine to others. Some divisions of coun- 
 ties on the Shannon are well adapted for descriptions 
 ofproduce which are unattainable in others. Some 
 excel in wheat and potatoes ; others in barley, oats and 
 rape ; while their neighbors, are better adapted to pas- 
 turage. 
 
 ' Natural manures also, those essentials in agricultur- 
 al districts, are not only excellent, but equal to any 
 demand throughout a great portion of the river, yet 
 unknown in the rest. The black and white marls of 
 the Shannon, which are easily raised, and accessible 
 and free to all, are among the most bountiful gifts of 
 Nature to this extraordinary country. 
 
 ' Again, turf, that prime necessary of life in Ireland, 
 is abundant in the greater number of districts on the 
 Shannon, yet deficient or inferior in quality in many. 
 Building materials, as stone, sand, Ume, flags, bricks, 
 slates, and m.arble, are cheap and abundant in many, 
 while frequently the adjoining counties are wholly with- 
 out them. 
 
 ' The bogs on both sides of the Shannon contiguous 
 to the line of the grand canals between Balinasloe and 
 Tullamore, may be noticed as illustrative of their im- 
 proveablc value. There, bog-land, originally of no 
 value, now lets freely at 30s. an acre. In many parts 
 of the Shannon and over district of from five to ten 
 miles long, the deep rich callows, adnually submerg- 
 ed by the rising waters of the Shannon, produce abun- 
 dant crops of hay, yet in other and easily approached 
 parts, and in many towns on its banks, hay is extreeme- 
 ly scarce and dear. 
 
 'Of the reclaimable bogs, callows, and marsh lands, 
 it is unnecessary to say more than that in no part of 
 Ireland are they more extensive, or more within the 
 reach of human means for improvement. The evi- 
 
 dence of Mr. Mulling before the committee, and the 
 report of Mr. Grantham in his survey of the Shannon, 
 are conclusive on this head. 
 
 ' In a country then so extensive ; so variable in soil 
 and climate ; so various in produce and natural pro- 
 ducts ; can there be a question of the importance of 
 interchange particularly for bulky commodities'? It 
 is not an unnatural state of things that in such a coun- 
 try, and with such a river flowing through its centre, 
 some districts should be in want, not merely of com- 
 forts and conveniences, but of the common necessaries of 
 life, food, and fuel, and almost approaching to famine; 
 while adjoining districts on the same river have them 
 in abundance and to spare 1 
 
 ' How then can we convey to English eyes the pic- 
 ture of the Shannon through its great course. Let 
 us suppose a navigable river taking its rise in some 
 distant county in England as far from Liverpool as 
 Essex or Middlesex. Suppose it occasionally spread- 
 ing itself into noble and picturesque sheets of water, of 
 more than 20 miles in length, with numerons islands, 
 receiving the waters of many rivers, and stretching 
 its bays into the adjacent counties, as it were to in- 
 crease the measure of its utility and beauty. See it 
 winding its way through Hertfordshire and Bedford- 
 shire, Northamptonshire, and Warwickshire, and the 
 rich soil of Leicestershire, and after passing by Staf- 
 fordshire, Derbyshire, and Cheshire, falling into the 
 estuary of the Mersey, in Lancashire. See it present- 
 ing to each of these counties the benefit of 50 miles of 
 navigation, and we shall have a correct view of the ex- 
 tent and capabilities of this river. 
 
 'But how shall we describe the state in which it has 
 remained for ages as to trading intercourse, and in 
 which one half of it remains to this very hoar, abso- 
 lutely wanting in all the incidents of navigation. For 
 nearly 100 miles of its length, not a sailor boat is 4o 
 be met with on its waters. No appearance of utility : 
 no indicationsof industry or capital; even its beauties 
 unknown. Deficient to an extent scarcely credible in 
 roads and approaches to it, and consequently having 
 but little connexion with the interior, where Nature 
 designed its influence should extend. Without any 
 employment of its waters, it flows unheeded by, and 
 unproductiveof any good. Over many of its districts 
 of great extent, from the absence of that control 
 which human skill and means could have eff"eGted, its 
 waters have become a source of wide-spreading waste.' 
 
 THE WICKLOW GOLD MINES. 
 In Ireland, county of Wicklow, seven miles west of 
 Arklow, about the year 1770, there was an old school- 
 master, who used frequently to entertain his neighbors 
 with accounts of the richness of their valley in gold j 
 and his practice was to go out in the night to search 
 for the treasure. For this he was generally accounted 
 insane. But in some years after, bits of gold were 
 found in a mountain stream, by variqus persons ; and 
 in 1796, apiece weighing about half an ounce. The 
 news of this having circulated amongst the peasantry, 
 such an infatuation took possession of the minds of 
 the people, that every sort of employment, save that of 
 acquiring wealth by the short process of picking it np 
 out of the streams, was abandoned ; and hundreds of 
 human figures were to be seen bending over the wa- 
 ters, and scrutinizing every object there to be seen. In 
 this way, during six weeks, no less than 800 ounces of 
 gold were found, which sold for ^£3 15s. per ounce, or 
 £3,000. Most of the gold was found in grains ; many 
 pieces weighed between two and three ounces ; thero 
 was one of five ounces, and one of twenty-two. It 
 contained about 6 per cent, of silver. Government 
 soon undertook the works ; but the amount of gold 
 found, while su]>erintended by the appointed directors, 
 was only .£3,671. It then appeared that there was no 
 regular vein in the mountain, and that these fragments 
 had probably existed in a part of the mountain which 
 time had mouldered away, and left its more permanent 
 treasure as the only monument of its ancient existence . 
 The works were at length discontinued. — Lardner's 
 Cabinet Cyclopaedia. 
 
102 
 
 imSU MISCELLAXY. 
 
 THE CNBtTlIED LEGS. 
 
 AS IRISH TUADITIOS. 
 
 In the pool groy of » fine Sundur moriiinj; in the 
 month of Junr, Shurc.-hft Hewer, (George Ilowaril,) 
 drcsseJ out in n shoot of clotlics, with u pnir of riinner 
 leather brojjues that had never been on mnn before, 
 act out from \\U fiither's little cabin, roniantiinlly situ- 
 ntcd amidst a little group of elder and ash trees, on 
 the banks of the river FU»k. to overtake an early mass 
 in the vilhico of Abl«!vdorney. Such at least, to ihc »' Prajer "'ne- 
 
 . ' 11. . 1 1 . 1 • . (• I' ^'■"s amusim 
 
 old couple, was represented as ihc ostensible object ot 
 
 Shoreshu'a long walk, ihougli they did not fail to hint 
 to one another, with half .-uppressed smiles, as he 
 closed the door after hini, that his views were not al- 
 together limited to the sacred ceremony. What was 
 really uppennost in his thoughts on that auspicious 
 morning, as he brushed along with a light and spring- 
 ing step over heather and lu.-soek — whether the chapel, 
 where he wa< to kneel by the side of a little blue- 
 eyed, fair haired devotee, during the service, and the 
 long and digressive exhortation ; or the barn of Ab- 
 beydorney cross where he was to commence the even- 
 ing dance with her, it would be invidious to scru'inize, 
 and was especially of little consequence on this occa- 
 sion, as both his love and liis devotion fell prostrate 
 before a master-feeling which suddenly usurped an ab- 
 solute command over the events of the day. 
 
 As he was trudging along the low, monotonous, 
 heath-covered country, whistling the old air of Thau 
 me enahulla agus dhusii/ me,* he came to a high double 
 ditch, covered with blackthorn bushes, with here and 
 there the decaying trunk of an old oak or beech, 
 throwing forth a few weakly shoots, which still waved 
 their slender boughs in the wind, as if almost in mim- 
 icry of the mighty arms it once stretched forth over 
 the fields. He looked along the bank, and observing 
 a spot where the ascent was likely to prove easy, 
 caught hold of a branch to assist him in mounting, 
 when he heard a noise at the other side, and a rustling 
 among the bushes, as if some one was making his 
 way through ; he got his foot on a tuft of rushes in 
 the ditch-side to proceed, when suddenly, wiiliji loud 
 exclamation, he tumbled backward into the field ; for 
 what should he see walking upon the top of the ditch, 
 and just preparing to jump down, but two well-shaped 
 middle-size legs, without either hip, body, or head. — 
 It was just as if they had been cut otT a little above 
 the knee, and though there was nothing to connect or 
 regulate their movements, they climbed, jumped, and 
 progressed along the moor, in as well adjusted steps, 
 as if the first dancing-master of the county of Kerry 
 bad. been superintending their movements. They 
 evidently belonged to a man, as appeared not only 
 from their figure and siie, but from the pcirtion of the 
 white kerseymere garment which buckled at the knee, 
 over a neat silk stocking. The shoes were square- 
 toed, of Spanish leather, and were ornamented with 
 old-fashioned silver buckles, such as had not been 
 used in that part of the country for some generations. 
 They had slowly passed by Shoresha, and already 
 left him staring behind, at the distance of a good 
 etone-throw, before he recovered from his astonish- 
 ment suflicienily to think of rising, wliieh he accom- 
 plished slowly, and almost involuntarily, never taking 
 hi< eyes oft" the legs, but ejaculating to himself, — 
 ' Blessed mother in heaven ! is it awake or dreaming 
 1 am.' They had now got on so far, that he perceived 
 luld be soon out of sight, if he did not move 
 in pursuit ; so abandoning Abbeydorney and its in 
 ducements, be without hesitation adopted that resolu- 
 tion. 
 
 It would be vain to detail all the obs I the Dhar a 
 dieus I the monoms ! that escaped from Shoresha, 
 
 and a little boy who bad been dispatched to fetch him 
 from the cross-road by a traveller to get a few nails 
 driven into a loosened shoe, soon after fell in, with him. 
 A milk-maid laid down her C4in and spancill,anil some 
 ragged gorsoons gave over tfieir early game of goal, 
 as they came up, and so great were the numbers col- 
 lected when they approached Listowel, even nt tlint 
 dewy hour of the morning, that it seemed like the con- 
 gregation of some little village chapel moving along 
 
 g enough when they nrrivcd nt the 
 waters ot the Flesk, to observe with what delicacy 
 and elegance the legs tripped over it, from stepping- 
 stone to stepping-stone, without getting spot or speck 
 on the beautiful silk stockings. They now cut across 
 the country at a nimble gait, the procession behind 
 lengthening every hour, and increasing in clamorous 
 exclamations of wonder as it proceeded. 
 
 After some hard walking, they descended into a 
 wooded glen, where the tangled underwood, and wild 
 briar, and close and stopping branches of the aider 
 timber, rendered it no jileasant travelling to such as 
 were under the heavy disadvantage of a superincum- 
 bent body. To the subjects of our narrative which 
 were annoyed by no such lumber, of course no didi- 
 cnlties presented themselves; they hopped over the 
 dense brushwood, or ducked under the branchy arms 
 of oak or elm stretched across the path, with equal 
 activity, while the most eager of the crowd behind 
 were eternally knocking their foreheads and noses 
 against some unobserved bough, or dragging their 
 tattered clothes through blackthorn and briar; several 
 wearied and fretted with the chase, soon fell behind, 
 while others, seeing no probability of any intermedi- 
 ate tennination to it, and although ignorant to what it 
 might lead, gave up in apprehension. A thousund 
 surmises about it were .ilready afloat ; some saying, 
 they saw them going to stop once or twice, and that 
 they certainly would not go much farther; others 
 swearing out, that ' 'twas faster and faster they were 
 walking every moment, and that the dickens a one of 
 'em would stop or stay until they got to the hanks of 
 the Shannon.' Many suirgested that it wasn't they at 
 all that were there, but only, as it were, the shapes of 
 'em ; and that they'd keep going, going, ever, until 
 it was night, and lead 'em all into some woo'd or 
 desert place ; and then maybe, the ground tu open 
 beneath 'em or a gush of wind to como by and 
 sweep 'em away in one gwall, so that they'd never 
 be heard of after. The legs had, meantime, crossed a 
 shallow part of the river Gale, that stole noiselessly 
 through the bottom of the glen, and pressed on with 
 renewed vigor at the opposite side. A flat, moorish, 
 uninteresting looking country, fell fast behind them ; 
 and as they invariably pursued the most direct route 
 to Tarbert, the tired followers, which now consisted 
 chiefly of hoys and young men, began in good earnest 
 to suspect tliat town to be their real destination. — 
 They were, however, soon relieved from these disa- 
 greeable anticipations, when the legs arrived opposite 
 a place called Newtown-Sands, made a sudden stop, 
 wheeled the toes round to the right, and almost in- 
 stantly sprang across a little trench ; they then ad- 
 vanced towaids the remains ol an old church, which 
 are still to be seen there, within one or two fields of 
 the road. There are but three roofless walls now- 
 standing ; and close to where the west gable formerly 
 
 stood, is one solitary tree, which in that unwooded 
 they would be soon out of sight, if he did not move j ■„ . . u i,-. j i jj • u 
 
 ' . . . . and almost nninhabited region, only adds to the uni- 
 
 versal loneliness. There arc a few graves about, but 
 even these are only observable on a very close ap- 
 proach, so Imricd arc they in the long, rank grass and 
 weeds, and in the fallen rubbi.^h of the building. To 
 
 I one of these which lay close to the south wall, our 
 time after time, as the legs hopp-^d over a trench, i u „„ __ .„ i _ u . . j j • 
 
 *" "^"^ '1 heroes moved on, hut at a more measured, and it 
 
 picked their sups through a patch or bog, or pushed „„, , ,„.„ „ .• i .i i r i i i 
 
 ■" 1- b r (?• f would seem, revenniial pace than before; and kneel- 
 
 through a thicket. He was before long joined by a I .„^ ^,„„.,^ ,,„„.„ Reside it, remained in that position 
 ncHihbor who was on his way to Listowel, for the before the wondering eyes of the few who had per- 
 
 priest to christen his child, but who could not resist j ■ .i •. i » i /• 
 
 J* .^ V ».vi, uut uw ^uui« iiui, .vaut jj^y^j.^^ ^^ jl^g pursuit, nnd had now, one after an- 
 
 the temptation of following and ascertaining how this ^.^^^^ ^„^^ „p ^^ ^^^.j^ ^^„^^„^ ^^.^^ ^^,j^^ ;„ ^^^ 
 
 extraordinary phenomenon should end. A smith , ,,^p,^,i„g t^e pacific and holy attitude of the legs, 
 
 • I am asleep and don't wak« mc. , they began gradually to contract their circle, and creep 
 
 nearer and nearer ; but the closer they approach, the 
 more shadowy did the objects become, until the re- 
 semblance was only to be distinguished by a fleecy, al- 
 most transparent outline, which moment aftir moment 
 was less defined, and at last melted aivay into tiiin air. 
 
 Such was the story that occupied the thoughts and 
 tongues of all the gossips from Newlown-Snnds to 
 Abbeydorney, for months and years after. As the 
 occurrence was in itself quite unique in its kind, even 
 those who pretended to the most intimate communi- 
 cation with the spiritual world, as well as the con- 
 fessed and best accredited agents of the ijmtlrmen, were 
 wholly unable to oiler anything like a probable expla- 
 nation of it. One old blind woman, who was, indeed, 
 the Lord knows how old, and was wrinkled and grey 
 in the memory of the baldest inhabitants of Abbey- 
 dorney, called to mind a tale that had been told her 
 when a child, which perhaps may be said to give some 
 clue to it. 
 
 ' There lived,' she said, ' in former times, a lady of 
 immense wealth, who had a strong castle not far from 
 Abbeydorney, though no one could now tell where; 
 and two great lords came to propose for her ; one a 
 fair-haired, blue-eyed youth of delicate make and 
 graceful manner, the other a dark, stout, athletic 
 figure, but proud and uncourtly. The lady liked the 
 fair lad best, which made the other so jealous of him, 
 that he was determined, one way or another, to com- 
 pass his death. So he engaged a fellow, by a largo 
 sum of money, to get access to his bedroom at night, 
 and cut off his head with a hatchet. On the night the 
 murder was to be committed, he made the lad, who 
 never suspected him, drink more wine than usual after 
 dinner, that he might be wholly incapable of resist- 
 ance. In this state he retired to his room, where he 
 threw himself on the bed without undressing, and, as 
 it awkwardly enough happened, with his head to- 
 wards tiie bed's feet. In a few minutes in came the 
 fellow with the hatchet, and struck a blow that he 
 thought must have severed the head from the body, 
 but it was the two legs he had cut ofi". Upon this the 
 young lord groaned, and immediately after received 
 another blow, which killed him. The corpse was put 
 into a sack, and carried that night to Newtown-Sands, 
 where it got Christian burial ; but the legs were thrown 
 into a hole in the castle garden, and covered up with 
 earth. The lord who had procured the murder, the 
 next day pretended to the lady that the blue-eyed lad 
 had returned home ; upon which, not knowing the de- 
 ceit, she became quite oflendcd, and in a few weeks 
 after agreed to marry his rival. But in the midst of 
 the joy and feasting on the bridal night, there was a 
 horn blown outside the castle, and soon after, steps 
 were heard ascending the grand stair-case, and the 
 door of the bridiilhall flew open, and in walked two 
 bodyless legs. Then there was screaming, and run- 
 ning, and the bride fainted ; but the legs followed the 
 bridegroom about everywhere, until he quitted the 
 castle ; and it was said, that wherever he looked or 
 turned to, from that hour, he saw them stalking be- 
 fore, or beside, or behind him, until he wasted and 
 fell into a decay. And when he was dying he con- 
 fessed the whole, and desired the assassin might bo 
 searched for every where, to ascertain from him where 
 the legs were thrown, that they might be dug up, and 
 get Christian burial, but the villain was never found 
 from that day to this, and maybe,' continued the old 
 woman, ' the legs are in punishment this way, and get 
 leave to walk the country of an odd time to show 
 what's happening to them, and make some good soul 
 search them o«it, and have them removed to New 
 town-Sands.' — Tulcs of the Munster Festivals. 
 
 One day, at dinner, a scientific lady asked the late 
 George Stephenson, ' What do you consider the most 
 powerful force in nature .' ' ' Oh !' said he' in a gal- 
 lant spirit, ' I will soon answer that question ; it is the 
 eye of a woman for the man who loves her ; for if' a 
 woman look with affection on a young man, and he 
 should go to the uttermost ends of the earth, the rec- 
 eollection of that look will bring him back. There is 
 no other force in nature that could do that. 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 103 
 
 FITZGEKALD'S ODE TO HIS SHIP. 
 
 TRANSLATED IIV M1S3 BROOKE. 
 
 Miss Brooke tells us tliat this Oilc was written by a 
 gemlemiin of tl\e name of Fitzgerald, in the time of 
 Queen Elizabetli, as appears from some passages in 
 other pieces composed by the same author. The sub- 
 ject of it is a voyage to Spain. Let the classic reader 
 compare it with the thiriJ ode of Horace, and say how 
 far short the Irish poet falls of the majesty of the 
 Koman one. 
 Bless my good ship, protecting pow'r of grace ! 
 And o'er the winds, the waves, tlic destin'd coast, 
 Breathe benign spirit!— Let thy radiant host 
 
 Spread their angelic shields! 
 Before us the bright bulwark let them place. 
 And tly beside us. through their azure lields! 
 
 Ocalm the voice of winter's storm! 
 
 Rule the wrath of angry seas ! 
 
 The fury of the reuding blast appease, 
 
 Kor let its rage fair oceau's face deform! 
 
 check the bitiug wind of spring, 
 
 And, from before our course, 
 Arrest the fury of its wing-. 
 
 And terrors of its force ! 
 So may we safely pass the dang'rous cape, 
 And from the perils of the deep escape I 
 
 I grieve to leave the splendid seats 
 
 OfTeamor's ancient lame! 
 Mansion of heroes, now farewell! 
 Adieu ye sweet reti-eats, 
 ■Where the fam'd hunters of youraneient vale, 
 "Who swell'd the high heroic tale, 
 ■Where wont of old to dwell! 
 And you, bright tribes of sunny streams, adieu! 
 While my sad feet their mournful path pursue. 
 Ah, well their lingering steps my grieving soul proclaim ! 
 
 Receive me now my ship!— hoist now thy sails, 
 
 To catch the' favoring gales. 
 Heaven! before thine awful throne I bend! 
 O let thy power thy servants now protect ! 
 Increase of knowledge and of wisdom lend, 
 Our course, through ev'ry peril to direct; 
 
 To steer us safe through oceau's rage, 
 ■Where angry storms their dreadful strife maintain: 
 
 may thy power their wrath assauge ! 
 May smiling suns, and gentle breezes reign ! 
 
 Stout is my well-built ship, the storm to brave. 
 Majestic in its might, 
 
 Her bulk, tremendous on the wave, 
 Erects its stately height! 
 
 From her strong bottom, tall in air 
 
 Her branching masts aspii'ing risej. 
 Aloft their cords, and curling heads they bear, 
 And give their sheeted ensigns to the skies; 
 "While her proud bulk trowns awful on the main. 
 And seems the fortress of the liquid plain! 
 
 Dreadful in the shock of fight, 
 She goes— she cleaves the storm! 
 ■Where ruin wears its most tremendous form 
 She sails exulting in her might: 
 On the tierce necks of foaming billows rides, 
 
 And through the roar 
 Of angry ocean to the destined shore 
 
 Her course triumphant guides; 
 As though beneath her frown the winds were dead. 
 And each blue valley was their silent bed! 
 
 Through all the perils of the main 
 She knows her dauntless progress to maintain ! 
 Through quicksands, Hats, and breaking waves, 
 Her dangerous path she dares explore; 
 Wrecks, storms and calms, alike she braves. 
 And gains with scarce a breeze, the wish'd-for shore! 
 Or in the hour ofwar, 
 Fierce on she bounds in conscious might, i 
 
 To meet the promis'd light! 
 "While, distant far, 
 The fleets of wondering nations gaze, 
 And view her course with emulous amaze, 
 As like some champiou'd son of fame, 
 , She rushes to the shock of arms, 
 
 And joys to mingle in tlie loud alarms, 
 Impell'd by rage, and lir'd with glory's flame. 
 Sailing with pomp upon the watery plain. 
 Like some huge monster of the main, 
 My ship her speckled bosom laves. 
 And high in air her curling ensign waves; 
 Her stately sides, with polish'd beauty gay. 
 And gunnel, bright with gold's effulgent ray. 
 As the fierce grilTin's dreadful flight 
 Her monstrous bulk appears. 
 
 "While o'er the seas her towering height, 
 And her wide wings, tremendous shade! she rears. 
 Or, as a champion, thirsting after fame 
 The strife of swords, — the deathless name, — 
 So does she seem, and such her rapid course! 
 
 Such is the rending of her force; 
 "When her sharp keel, where dreadful splendors play. 
 Cuts through the foaming main its liquid way. 
 Like the red bolt ofheaven, she shoots along. 
 Dire as its flight, and as its fury strong! 
 
 Cod of the winds! O hear my pray'r! 
 
 Safe passage now bestow! 
 Soft, o'er the slumbering deep, may fair 
 
 And prosperous breezes flow ! 
 O'er the rough rock, and swelling wa^-e, 
 
 Do thou our progress guide ! ^ 
 
 Do thou from angry ocean save. 
 
 And o'er its rage preside. 
 
 Speed my good ship, along the rolling sea, 
 O Heaven ! and smiling skies, and favoring gales decree ! 
 Speed the high-masted ship of dauntless force. 
 Swift in her glittering flight, and sounding course! 
 
 Stately moving on the main, 
 
 Forest of the azure plain ! 
 
 Faithful to coufided trust, 
 
 To her promis'd glory just; 
 Swiit from afar. 
 
 In perils fearful hour. 
 Mighty in force, and bounteous in her power, 
 
 She comes, kind aid she lends. 
 She frees her supplicating friends, 
 And fear before her flies, and dangers cease ! 
 
 Hear, blest Heaven ! my ardent pray'r! 
 My ship — my crew — take us to thy care ! 
 
 may no peril bar our way ! 
 Fair blow the gales of each propitious day! 
 Soft swell the floods, and gently roll the tides. 
 While from Dunboy, along the smiling main 
 "We sail, nutil the destined coast we gain. 
 And safe in port our gallant vessel rides! 
 
 THE SEA EEED OR BENT. 
 
 The sea bent, or sea reed, (q,rundo arenaria, of En- 
 glish botany, anemophiia arundinacea of Hooker's Brit- 
 ish Elora), though but little esteemed in a general 
 point of view, is yet for particular purposes, highlj' 
 valuable, and affords another instance of the wonder- 
 ful adaptations of nature. Along many parts of our 
 sea coast, the sand, by the continual action of wind 
 and tide, have been drifted into amazing heaps, par- 
 ticularly on the south-west; and north-west of Ireland. 
 In many places, these heaps present at a distance the 
 appearance of a hilly country ; and in stormy weath- 
 er, when the wind blows strong from the lee-ward, the 
 loose sand is drifted in great quantity over the adjacent 
 lands, ruining thousands of acres. 
 
 The sea reed is found plentifully on the sea shores, 
 not only of England, Iieland and Scotland, but exten- 
 ding from the coast of Barbary, in the north of Afri- 
 ca, all along the continent of Europe. It is met with 
 in Iceland, and on the west coast of Greenland, be- 
 tween latitude 70° and 71°. In America it is found, 
 according to Prush, reaching frumCanada to New Eng- 
 land ; every wliere displaying the wisdom of the Cre- 
 ator in adapting certain vegetables for useful and im- 
 portant ends. This is one among the few gramine- 
 ous and cyperaccous plants, whose long creeping roots 
 binding as it were the sands together, prevent their 
 being removed by the wind, and thus form a barrier 
 to the encroachments of the sea. The industrious 
 Hollanders have profited by their knowledge of this 
 fact, and by planting it on the loose soil of their coast, 
 have been a means of preserving much fertile land, 
 and saving their very country from inundation. 
 
 In England at a later period, we apprehend, it has 
 been employed, especially in Norfolk ; and planted on 
 the sand banks, or the seed of it sown along with£/(/- 
 wus Arenarius. Its utility was acknowledged so early 
 as Queen Elizabeth's time' and Acts of Parliament 
 passed which prevented its exportation. Nor are its 
 services confined to the purposes just mentioned. "SVe 
 learn from AVitliering, that the town of Newborough,in 
 Anglesea, is almost entirely supported by manufactur- 
 ing this plant into mats and ropes, for which the long 
 tough leaves rolled at the margin in such a manner as 
 to be almost exactly cylindrical, seem admirably adap- 
 ted. 
 
 In Gaelic the plant is called Murran, and the banks 
 of sand on which it grows are in Norfolk called 
 Marran Banks. 
 
 It grows plentifully in conjunction with Carex Ar- 
 enaria on the sands at Portmarnock and Malaliide. 
 
 Now this simple grass, the sea bent, is capable even 
 when unassisted by human skill, of fastening tlie sand, 
 and presenting an impediment to the encroachments of 
 the ocean, as may be witnessed in the numberless in- 
 stances on the shores of Holland and of Britain. A 
 most successful experiment of this nature is going on 
 at LifFoney, one of Lord Palmerston's estates, in the 
 county of Sligo, situated on the Donegal Bay, and mid- 
 way between Sligo and Ballyshannon. Along the 
 coast the sea sets in very heavily, and not a single head- 
 land presents itself to break the fury of the storm, as 
 it blows across the vast Atlantic. The sand w.as rap- 
 idly covering great portions of valuable land,and Lord 
 Palmerston, to check the progress of the invasion, 
 commenced about ten years ago, to plant the sea bent 
 on a small promontory adjoining the harbor of Mul- 
 lachmore. The planting commenced on the more lev- 
 el sand fields adjoining the shore ; but in consequence 
 of not keeping sufficiently to \vindward, in the first in- 
 stance, the agitation was not properly checked, and the 
 planted spaces were repeatedly covered. Yet such is 
 the wonderful tenacity of the grass, that its roots ex- 
 tend in every possible direction, and push up through 
 many feet of the sand. The error of not fastening the 
 sand to windward has been corrected ; another im- 
 provement suggested itself — that it was better to plant 
 the young offsets promiscuously, at about fifteen inch- 
 es apart, than in rows; as in the latter way the sand 
 accumulated greatly between the drills. About t'wo 
 hundred acres have been planted with this grass, and 
 thus so much surface not only prevented from injuring 
 the adjoining land, but converted from a pathless waste 
 to a verdant pasture. On the earliest planted parts, 
 cattle are already grazed during the summer months ; 
 and it is worthy of observation that when bent has ful- 
 filled the great purpose for which it seems so admira- 
 bly adapted, namely, binding the loose sand, it gradu- 
 ally yields placfe to the more delicate but nutritious 
 grasses. 
 
 Such is the communication of a friend ; and as he 
 has exhibited the good effects resulting from the cul- 
 tivation of bent grass, we will now contrast it with a 
 contrary scene, taken from that interesting work, 
 ' Sketches in the North and South of Ireland,' from 
 which, with the free permission of author and publish- 
 ers, we have already largely borrowed and doubtless 
 may again. The scene of desolation here described, 
 was caused by permitting rabbits to burrow under the 
 bent grass, loosening the sand, and thus exposing it to 
 be drifted before the wind, when it formerly used to be 
 firmly held down by the matted and net work roots of 
 this humble but in its place valuable grass, of which 
 we have been treating. 
 
 'Northward of Dow Castle lay the Sands of Eosa- 
 penna, a scene that almost realised in Ireland the san- 
 dy desert of Arabia ; a line of coast and country ex- 
 tending from the sea, deep into the land, until it al- 
 most meets the mountain on which we stood, and ex- 
 hibiting one wide waste of red sand ; for miles not a 
 blade of grass, not a particle of verdure, hills and 
 dales and undulating swells, smooth, solitary, desolate, 
 reflecting the sun from their polished surface of one uni- 
 form and flesh-like hue. Fifty years ago this line of 
 coast was as highly improved in its way, as Ards on 
 the opposite side of the bay now is — it was the much 
 orn.iraented demesne and contained the comfortable 
 ipansion of Lord Boyne, an old fashioned manorial 
 house and gardens, planted and laid out in the taste of 
 that time, with avennes, terraces, Ii'edges and statues, 
 surrounded with walled jjarks, and altogether the first 
 residence of a nobleman — the country around a great 
 sheep walk. Now not a vestige of all this is to be 
 seen ; one common waste of sand, one undistinguish- 
 ed ruin, covers all: Where is the house'? under the 
 sand — where the trees, the walks, the terraces, the 
 green parks and sheep walks '! all under the sand — 
 lately the top of the house >ms visible, and the country 
 
104 
 
 IIMSII MISCKI.LVNY. 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 105 
 
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 clubs: CLUBS! 
 
 IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 BOSTON, SATUKDAY, MARCH 27, 1858 
 
 Boston. 
 
 Lowell, Mass. 
 Bau^or, Me. 
 
 Pliiladelplii 
 
 MiFsouri. 
 Canada West. 
 
 ST. FATKICK'S DAY CELEBRATION. 
 
 The Irislimeu of Bostou seem to have imbibed so much of 
 the cold, I'liritniiical Jeeliiig ol theiv Yiuikce lellow citizeiit:, 
 as to be very much iiulilleieiit to the-annuul return of the 
 day which, everv where else, gives sucli exhuberaut joy and 
 pleasure to the natives of the old ' island of t^aintt.' The 
 weather on tlie previous evening looked dark and low^ing, 
 but the morning sun shone out witiiniuch power and bril- 
 liancy, dispelling the clouds and gloom, and imparting joy- 
 otts leeiings to the votuiies of the day. Divine service was 
 held in several of the churches in Boston and the surround- 
 iug towns, and panegyrics pronounced upon the many 
 glowing virtues for which Ireland's Apostle was, in his life- 
 time, distinguished. 
 
 U was pleating to witness the airof comfort and respect- 
 ability Which our countrymen presented, as wending their 
 way to or from the huuseofdoa clearly demonstrating that, 
 notwithstanding the haid times, they had, by industry and 
 frugality, been enabled to pass through the late severe com- 
 meicial crisis compaintiveiv unscathed. 
 
 'THE SHAMKOCK SOCIETY,' 
 held its fourteenth anniversary in honor oi Ireland's Patron 
 tjaint, at the Merchants' Exchange Hotel. 
 
 Mr. John 11. Barry, the I'lesident of the Society, and who 
 occupied the chair on the occasion, aro&e, and alter congrat- 
 ulating the company on the recunence of the auniveisary, 
 expressed the pleasure he lelt at seeing so many at tlfe Jes- 
 tive board. He tlien proceeded to give a sketch of the his- 
 tory of the Society, saying that since it was originated it 
 had had about 300 enrolled members, and of these about 50 
 had deceased. He stated that there were now 114 active 
 members, and about ®900 in the treasury. It had been de- 
 cided at a late meeting, to change the constitution and adopt 
 the name of the Boston Shamrock Society, as heretofore 
 many had supposed, from the name, that it was a secret or- 
 ganization. 
 
 This the Society wished to be denied, as it was as public 
 as any one in Boston. He further stated that there had 
 never been dissatistaction expressed at any of the anniver- 
 saries, and he hoped the present would pass with the same 
 pleasure. Mr. Barry then alluded in a \^ry feeling manner 
 to the death of Mr. Lundergreen, one of their members. 
 
 Mr. Mahoney otliciated as toast master, and gave, in the 
 course of the evening, the following re.gular toasts. 
 
 The Day we Celebrate — A cycle transmitted to us through 
 ages. We hail it;- leturn with pleasure; time cannot ell'ace 
 its many reminiscences. 
 
 The C/>l/ferf^'/afe.';f)/Vlm-'^■crt— The genius of herinstitutionp, 
 as kindled and lo>tered by the immortal Wasiiington, elec- 
 trilied by Benjamin Franklin and preserved by the ' eternal ' 
 Jackson, will not be irr^aired by James Buchanan. 
 
 IrelanrJ the Ocea7i's Gnn—The brilliancy of her future shall 
 blind the Bull that now guards her, and the spirit of her ex- 
 iled sous shall be wafted home to inspire their brethren with 
 courage that shall make the British lion quail, and chant their 
 harps again. 
 
 T/ie President of the United ^^arcs— May his acts entitle him 
 to the Teopie's gratitude, his territorial expansions be as 
 full of liberty as his predecessors, and his administration be 
 worthy of his stateMiianship. 
 
 The' Army a7i(J iYrtr;/— Our wings of Liberty whose feathers 
 should be admired and revered by all true Kebublicans and 
 Patriots, so long as tlie names "of Washington, Jackson. 
 Moiitgomerv, Barry, Shields and I'crry remain. 
 
 The C»V//rj/5o5/oH— Her institutions models, her charities 
 unetjualied, her citizens patriotic, her Mayor a Lhik on 
 (Lincoln) which the interests of the Corporation are safely 
 hung. Honor and prosperity to her citizens, may her hap- 
 piness be Excelsior. 
 
 (Our printer's devil whose name is Tiberius Augustus C.t- 
 ser, here reminds us that tlic mayor declines to give any le- 
 spectable city emphnnient to auTrishman.)— Ed. 
 
 Tke C/er^y aud Hi'ernrchy~T\.^ir hvQ^ devoted to the ele- 
 vation of mankind, thev are entitled to onr hearty support. 
 
 The CmnmnincenHIt nf Massachusetts—^ iX\\l'\yinon\\\ Hock. 
 for a beacon light, reminding legislators of her lonnder's 
 origin, may the intelligence of her free schools eradicate the 
 evils that would de.-^tiov that ' rich Irish bi'ogue 
 
 ion til 
 -A cia 
 
 ery 
 
 Tiir 11th ofMrirrh—A ciav in tbecalenderdearto the hearts 
 of Irislinien, may all win.' lind an abiding place in this land 
 of Liberty renew their pledge of lidelity to the Union, which 
 was transmitted to us, .-sealed by the blood of Montgomery 
 ar.d other kindred spirits. 
 
 Mk. Edvvakij IIVAK responded to the second toastin a 
 speech replete with fervor and eloquence, which elicited 
 ' rty nppla 
 
 .•iHtOKANT TlIOMASl ( 
 
 'Neil 
 
 responded to the third regn- 
 
 lar loast. He Imped to 
 
 f-VU til 
 
 L' oav when Ireland would 
 
 :idopt the tcacliingsoftl 
 
 e Unit 
 
 •d Slates and become liepub- 
 
 liciiii. Moiiarchv forth 
 
 u hist t 
 
 Mi-e hinulied vearshad been 
 
 a curse to Ireland; the 1 
 
 lish pi 
 
 iiile wire lepublican since 
 
 the (lavs of tone and Fi 
 
 i/"'eui 
 
 1. •Ilii' -luom which now 
 
 seemed fneuvcl(.pc the: 
 
 i-isli 11 
 
 iiid would jiiiss awav and 
 
 tlie ]iMiple noulcl M't liii 
 
 e a "(1 
 
 vernnient modeled like unio 
 
 thiit which li;ul sin.ri sill. 
 
 1, iii,> 
 
 eakiii.le ble,-sin-s upon the 
 
 people. r,riliir.col,tjlienl. 
 
 ilr. ( 
 
 Ai'il was loudly aiipianded. 
 
 Jlr. M. K. .\Iahonev " 
 
 
 cd on tn .(..-pond lolKt ITIli 
 
 of Jlareli, and did so ii 
 
 11 vei\ 
 
 
 ie]ieiited ii|)phuihe of llie 
 
 COllipil 
 
 IV bv his iiiaiiv hajipv allii- 
 
 r-ioiis t.. the land of his 
 
 .irlh. 
 
 jud lliaf ol his aclii|,lii.ii.~ 
 
 lie sail] it was not nieie 
 
 v on a 
 
 ccount of .SI. ralrick'.s Dav 
 
 that the ITfli of Iheiiiuu 
 
 li shot 
 
 Id be a dav nuu ked fur ei-i- 
 
 ebraliou, Iml us the (l:n 
 
 of .1 1 
 
 uMilh on winch the iirilisli 
 
 e«icui.l,.(Ui..,-lon,thed 
 
 v the 
 
 lea wasthniwli oveibnaid 
 
 in ISonlon Harbor, theUi 
 
 V the i 
 
 niiiortiil Franklin was born. 
 
 thedaytjeneral Wanen 
 
 fell n 
 
 1 Bunker Hill, the day the 
 
 Con>.titnlion of the Unit 
 
 cd .Slal 
 
 es was adopted, and the day 
 
 thCKleiit battle of (.nill 
 
 
 foiiyht. 
 
 was filled to overflowing. A series of Tableaux from Irish 
 history were given with much eflect. The trial of K chert 
 Emmet was perfdiiiicd in a most creditable manner. The 
 whole enterlainnuiit piis^t-d ojf well and with much honor 
 to the boys and their tutors. 
 
 IN Ku-\BURY. 
 the day was celebrated by the Erina Society, at the City- 
 Hotel. About sixty ladies and gentlemen were present.— 
 The compan;y assembled at about hall-past eight o'clock, 
 and after enjoying an hour in social intercourse, proceeded 
 to the supper hall, where a grand entertainmowt had been 
 prepared by Colonel Culbert.'-on. Patrick Lynch, Eki-tP^'^- 
 sided. After the usual attention to the supper, Mr. Lynch 
 welcomed the members of the Association and their guests 
 to the festive board. He paid an eloquent tribute to the 
 memory of St. Patrjck, and also tpoke in beJittingtonis of 
 American institutions. 
 
 The tirst sentiment, ''The day we celebrate,' was responded 
 to by Kichard Oarvey, Esq., who spoke at length of the 
 early history of Ireland. Speeches were also made by Capt, 
 John Foley, Messrs. Manning. ^Dolan, Greeley and otheis. 
 The party was eminently (-ocial and agieeable, and theies- 
 tiyities were continued until past midnight. 
 
 Everything pasted oiT most satisfactorily, and the Com- 
 mittee ot Arrangements, Meters. Wm. Holland, Maitin 
 Lynch, Kichard Bryne and Michael Dolan, aie entitled to 
 much consideration for the tuccesslul manner in which all 
 the arrangements were carried o\\X.—H>rald. 
 
 The toasts and sentiments were Irish, and that is giyin^j 
 them the best praise \ve can bestow. Everywhere but in 
 lioi-ton, Irishmen seem to have a sou!, and even in thisl'u- 
 ritanical city the hearts of Irishmen ai e right, and only kept 
 iuabeyance'by belf-constiiuled leaders. 
 IK KEW HAVEN. 
 Our correspondent, 'Kilva,' says: 'The time-honored 
 anniversary of Ireland's Patron Saint was celebrated with 
 more than usual enthusiasm. After lorming into line, the 
 various Irish societies, headed by the ' JSew Haven Brass 
 Band,' and escorted by the 'Emmet Guards,' Capt. Cahill, 
 marched through the principal streets to St. Patrick's- 
 church, where aivine service was celebrated, and the Hev- 
 Dr. Wm.H. IS'eJigan, ot St. Joseph's Theological Seminary, 
 Fordam, pronounced the panegyric on St- Patrick. After 
 which the procession re-loimed and marched to the rooms 
 of thediflerent Associations. At 2 P. M. the Societies again 
 met. and proceeded in procession to Lnion Hall, wliere an 
 Oration was delivered on the Irish Adopted Citizens— their 
 Position— Civil and Religious,' by William Downes, Esq., 
 Wew Haven. The oration was a masterly vindication of the 
 rights of adopted citizens, showing that from the adoption 
 ot the federal constitution, until the present day, they had 
 not been behind their native brethren in preserving un- 
 sullied the tame of America in the Senate, at the Bar, and 
 in many a haid fought baltle-tield. 
 
 The ' Emmet Guards.' led by the ' Westville Cornet Band, 
 added much to the display, by their line military bearing. 
 This was their first appearance in public. Their linilorm is 
 dark blue dress-coat, turned up with buff on the lapels, buff 
 colored and slashed cuH's, blue pants, with buff stripe; belts, 
 cartridge-boxes, and bayonet sheaths of white enameled 
 leather, hats of the U. S. regulation pattern, with white and 
 blue fountain plumes. The Guards numbered forty men, 
 under command of Capt. Thos W. Cahill. and is composed 
 of members of the two companies who were disband*id by 
 his 'Hindoo Excellency, Gov. Barebones Minor.' Alto- 
 gether it was the tinesf and largest display ever made by the 
 Irislimen of the City of Elms. The streets were crowded, 
 with sons and dauglders of old Ireland from the time the 
 procession moved in the morning, until the delivery of the 
 Oration, which finished the proceedings of the day. The 
 local press have been lavish in their praise ol our display. 
 There was nothing to mar the joyous celebration. — 
 The day was beautiful, and all enjoyed with the best 
 spirit, the hallowed anniversary of Ireland's Patron Saint. 
 The following gentlemen acted as Marshals. KogerNew- 
 man, M. B. S. Grand Marshal. Owen Eelley, MarshaL 
 H. P. S. 
 
 CommitteeofArrakgements.— Thomas Shanley, Pres- 
 ident hfM. B.S.; Michael McCarier, Scc'y of M. B. S.; 
 John Harvey, Daniel J. Crowley, John Cook, Patrick Mc 
 Curfen. James Cieegan and Janies Sullivan. 
 [We shall give our correspondent's dett 
 splendid banners carried in the procession ; 
 next week.] 
 
 THE DAY IN SALEM. 
 Our esteemed coricsponUent in the city of ' 
 writes,—* At 10 o'clock, High Mass was celebrated ni the two 
 Cathulic chujches, Kev. Mr. Haitnev pit-iiched a most im- 
 pressive and eloquent discourse in St. James', and Kev. Mr. 
 Carrol preached iu the Church of the 'Immaculate Concep- 
 tion.' 
 
 All was order and enjoyment during the day. The sun 
 came out from its foggy cloud and shone most' brilliantly. 
 The lingering snow soon disappeared before his genial rays 
 and hi^ iigiit and warmth made our liisli hearts bunvaiit 
 with jov. "In theevi-ning, Lvceuni llall w:i,- ci o\\ (led \\\\\\ 
 as re^pectablealld intelligent an audii-nce a.'^ e\ or assembled 
 Me.-srs. Harding, McGearv, Folev, Stephens and 
 
 ■iption of the 
 1 New Haven, 
 
 'itch bur 
 
 l-ain 
 
 I choice collect: 
 Mi by Mi\ Coller on the plan' 
 
 of 
 
 'Ihe 
 
 i.al sG 
 ongs 1 
 
 At 8 o'clock, TiiOM.(\ 
 
 VARl") I- ITZOERALJ), U 
 
 vho had luiuoniiced a 
 sh Rule in India. The 
 
 I tlu-lIilMlnos (I 
 
 ' Irish Heading iCoo 
 
 in In.iia ivhich had, at 
 t and patriotic struggle 
 
 IS with copious notes of 
 \is to deter their publi- 
 :count of the supper of 
 
 We have to tresji; 
 
 NU3IBEK ONE. 
 
 ss upon the patienc 
 
 ■rltn 
 
 The expense o( producing the 7r/M Miscellany 
 greater tliaii that of an ordinary newspiper. Vet to meet 
 the wislies of many persons, and to place tlie Misrcrlfany 
 Within thereacli of all, we have revolved to supply it on the 
 following terms, in advance. 
 To a club ofsix persons sont to one address, SIO.OO 
 
 To a club of twelve, IK.OO 
 
 The whole of the money must iuvariably bj sent at one 
 remittance. 
 
 M, 
 
 ihe (e.stival 
 
 Id th. 
 
 -La/L- 
 
 HOCSE OF THE AN(.EL GUAIiDIAN.' 
 
 ;»vsufthis excellent institution gave one of their 
 entertainments in the Mu.-^ic Hall, in honor of St. 
 •s Day. We were delighted to see, that, notwith- 
 ^ the many callo upon the public, the spacious hall 
 
 nur patron 
 L'dition of 
 venedsinc 
 
 IKMlu 
 
 ■ihilile 
 
 Wi 
 
 'but 
 
 hoiild he Miiii.liLHl with uur sicond 
 tills week. St. I'atrick's day hasinter- 
 and as that is a day on which no Irishman 
 rs lollowed the usual course and devoted 
 itivc land. In addition to 
 
 u\>]\: 
 
 .Mp)n,. 
 
 ^ Ui Hi- 
 
 nt to 
 
 111 tiu 
 
 upon ha 
 I'oinlf/iti 
 
 ing it with number y. In thi^ t 
 
lOG 
 
 IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 affccis ono of the moat extraordinary occurrences of 
 my life. 
 
 This comprehensive and important word (which 
 hiis upon occiision puzzled me more than any other in 
 the Englisli hmguiifre) is 'superstition,' — whereof one 
 of the definitions pivcn by the doctor, in his lexicon, 
 nppenrs to bo rather inconsiderate, namely, ' religion 
 without morality.' -Now, I freely and fully admit that 
 I am suiwrslllious; yet I think it is rather severe and 
 somewhat singular in the doctor to admit my religion 
 and extinguish my morality, which I always consid- 
 ered as marching hand in hand. 
 
 When Doctor Johnson began to learn his own mo- 
 rality, docs not appear , I suppose not until ho got an 
 Chakactek— SuPEUNATUUAL l.Noi- honorary dcgreo from the pedants of Oxford. Col- 
 legiate degrees in general, however, work no great 
 reformation, I am inclined to believe, in morality ; at 
 least I am certain that when I became a doctor of laws 
 I did not feel my morals in the least improved by my 
 diploma. I wish the candid Boswell had mentioned 
 
 . , ,, 1 .1 ■ 1 .„« 'i „ I the precise cpocha of the doctor's reformation, (for ho 
 
 eral opinions of the world, and nothing but a firm be- 1 i; ' •,..,• , , 
 
 .. . ,' . , . •_ „« J •_ T admits him to have been a /ime wild in his youth,) 
 
 Hcf that we are right can hear us up in so doing. I , , . , , . , , , , ,. 
 
 , , rii^r. ■ .i„ ,„i,«„ T ,.„„.., ~> »« and then we might have judged under what state of 
 
 feel my own fallibility poignantly, when 1 venture to ^ •'. ° 
 
 : , 1 1 . J ,„ „ >,.„i„„, < .1,0 mind he adopted the definition, 
 
 remark upon the celebrated personage yclept ' the j ^ _ |. ^ •!„. r.-.i, 
 
 great moralist of England.' 
 
 IjITBBATUBE. 
 
 DEATH OF LOUD ROSSMORE. 
 Stricti'kks OS Dr. .lonNsoK — His BiiKiKAi'iiKit 
 
 BUSWCLL — FaLSK DeKINITIONS and EliilONE- 
 
 oiig Ethics — SurKRSTiTiON — SiTEnNATUiiAL 
 
 Al'PBAIiANCKS — TllEOLOOICAL AmiTMENT Ol-- 
 
 THE Ai'Tiiou IS Favoii ok 1118 Pecuhak Faith 
 
 — t)RlCISAL I'OETRY UvMlSST — TheAU- 
 
 Tiion ruRciiASES Lady Mayo's Desmesne, 
 
 CODNTY WlCKLOW — TERRIFIC AXI> CULTIVATED 
 SCENKKY CO.NTRASTED — DKSCHirTIOS OK THE 
 
 GoLDES Belt ok Ireland, and the Beauties 
 
 OF THE AnoVE-MESTlONED CoPNTV — LoilD ROSS- 
 
 more — llis 
 
 DENT OF X MOST EXTRAOKDINARV NATURE, 
 
 voucuED nv Liviso Witnesses, and AttenD' 
 
 ANT ON TUB Sudden Death of his Lokb 
 
 8Hir. 
 
 It is not pleasant to dilTer essentially from the gen 
 
 To criticise the labors of that giant of literature I 
 am unequal ; to detract from hia ethics is not my 
 object. But it surely savors not of treason to avow 
 that parts of his lexicon I condemn, and much of his 
 philosophy I dissent from. 
 
 It is fortunate for the sake of troth that Boswell be- 
 came Johnson's biographer : for, as the idolators of 
 China devoutly attach a full proportion of bad qual- 
 ities to the object of their adoration, so in like manner, 
 he has shown no want of candor as to the doctor's 
 failings ; and it might have been still wiser in him to 
 have reflected on the unkind propensities of this 
 wicked world, by which reflection his eulogiums 
 would probably have been rendered less fulsome, and 
 his biography yet more correct. 
 
 The English language had been advancing gradu- 
 ally in its own jog-trot way from the days of Bayley 
 to those of Johnson ; it travelled over a plain, smooth 
 surface, and a gentle ascent. Everybody formerly 
 appear to understand each other tolerably well ; words 
 were then very intelligible, and women, in general, 
 foand no diihculty in pronouncing them. But the 
 great lexicographer soon convinced the British peojde 
 (the Irish are out of the question) that they had been 
 reading, writing, and spouting in a stan'cd, con- 
 tracted tongue, and that the magnificent dassimiboiui- 
 mus' of the Grecian language were ready in polysylla- 
 bles to relieve that wretched poverty under which ours 
 had so long languish ed. 
 
 This noble revolution in letters has made a progress 
 so rapid, that I found in one essay of a magazine, two 
 or three months ago, no fewer than twenty-four words 
 which required me to make as many references to our 
 great lexicon. 
 
 Nobody can deny the miraculous labor which that 
 work must have required. Yet now, when enthusiasm 
 has somewhat abated, and no danger exists of being 
 clapper-clawed by the doctor himself, some ungrateful 
 English grammarians have presumed to assert that, 
 under the gaberdine of so great an authority, anybody 
 is lawfully entitled to coin any Emjlisli word he chooses 
 out of any foreign language he thinks proper ; and 
 that we may thus tune up our vocabulary to the key 
 of a livr/ua franca, an as-'cmblage of all tongues, 
 sounds, and idioms, dead or livhig. It has also been 
 a.ssertcd, since his decease, that the doctor's logic is 
 frequently false in both premises and conclusion, his 
 ethics erroneous, his philosophy often unintelligible, and 
 his diction generally bombastic. However, there are so 
 many able and idle gentlemen of law, physic, and di- 
 vinity, amply educated, with pens stuck behind their 
 cars ready for action, and who are much better skilled 
 in the art and practice of criticism than I am, that I 
 shall content myself with commenting on one solitary 
 word out of forty thousand — which word not only 
 bears strongly on my own tenets and faith, but also 
 
 For my.-clf, I consider faith, grounded on the phe- 
 nomena of nature, (not the faith of sectarianism or 
 fanaticism,_) as the true source and foundation of mo- 
 rality, and morality as the true source and foundation 
 of religion. 
 
 No human demonstration can cope with that pre- 
 sented by the face of nature. What proof so infalli- 
 ble as that the sun produces light, and heat, and veg- 
 etation ?* — that the tides ebb and flow — that the thun- 
 der rolls — that the lightning flashes — that the planets 
 shine ?t Wlio can gaze on tlie vast orb of day with- 
 out feeling that it is the visible demonstration of a 
 superior Being, convincing our r«ason and our senses, 
 and eveii the scanty reason of illiterate savages ? 
 
 It is foreign from the intention of this work to di- 
 late on theoretical subjects of any kind ; suffice it to 
 say that the following arc simply my own sentiments, 
 which I must be permitted to retain, and which, in- 
 deed, nothing on this side the grave can shake. 
 
 The omnipotence of the Deity in our creation and 
 destruction — in the union and separation of our bodies 
 and souls — and in rendering the latter responsible for 
 the acts of the former — no Christian denies : and if 
 the Deity be thus omnipotent in forming, destroying, 
 uniting, separating, and judging, he must be eijually 
 omnipotent in reproducing that spirit and that form 
 which he created, and which remain subject to his will, 
 and always in his power. 
 
 ' The followinp; lines arc by the young poetess whom I 
 ic lieloie luuiilioueii, and shall agaiu allude to more 
 
 fully : 
 
 'The sun is in the empire of his light. 
 Throned in the mighty solitude of liciven : 
 He seems the visible <*)mnipoteiit 
 Dwelling in ghiry: his high sanctuary 
 I>o the eves wors'hip, and thereon, as' if 
 
 I )i u);l, \' ifli 1 hi' .-nirit othis deep refulgence. 
 ( , -biiidem of heiiven: 
 
 I ;: 111. I olbright eternity, 
 
 ,\i,,; 1 ..: iN^, inrtli the uttribiitesof Him 
 Who iiiac'li- line of this visible world supreme, 
 And tlmu becamcst a wonder and a praise — 
 A worship— yea. a pure idolatrj' '. 
 The image cl the glories of our God.' 
 
 t The reader may deem it curious to compare the two fol- 
 lowing pariiphrnses: the first graced with the great iiniiie, 
 as author, ol Mr. Addison; tlio second the pcrlorinaiice of 
 my accomplished yoniig friend, and extracted from her 
 coinnionpluce-book, without any opportuuity given lor re- 
 visiou: — 
 
 'OS THE PLASET3. 
 
 'The spacious firmament on high, 
 
 Willi all the blue cthcrial ifV.y^ 
 
 And spangled licnveiis — a sliiuing fi'ame 1— 
 
 Their great Uriginal proclaim. 
 
 In Kcason's car they all ri^Joice, 
 
 And utter forth a glorious voice; 
 
 Korcver singing, as they shine, 
 
 ' Tlic hand that made us is divine !' ' 
 
 * Ye living fires in yon eternal dome — 
 
 Ye lamps, who..^e light is immortality — 
 
 Hung lorlli in mercy from our Father's house, 
 
 As beacon-lights to guide us to our God! 
 
 Ye are oi-duiiied man's faithful monitors, 
 
 tJnzing like heavenlv eves upon our deeds, 
 
 Till Guilt is awed and shrinks beneath vour glance. 
 
 Ye bright and visible rewards, licbl forth 
 
 From (.oils high sanctuur)', to work in us 
 
 A purcamibitiim (or eternal things, 
 
 And glories which our spirit heaves to grasp !' 
 
 It follows, thorofuro, tliat the omnipotent Creator 
 may at will reproduce that spirit which he reserves for 
 future judgment, or the semblance of that body which 
 once contained the undecaying soul. The smallest 
 atom which floats in the sunbeam can not, (as every- 
 body knows,) from the nature of inattci-, be actually 
 unnihitaUd ; death consequently only decomposes the 
 materials whereof our bodies are formed, which 
 materials are obviously susceptible of being recom- 
 bined. The Christian tenets maintain that the sonl | 
 and body must appear for judgment, and why not . 
 fcc/ore judgment — if so willed by the Almighty '! The j 
 main argument which I have heard against such ap- I 
 penranccs tends nearly aa much to mislead as a gene- ^ 
 ral disbelief or denial of omnipotence, that though this 
 power m«i/ exist in the Deity, he never ivoiild permit • 
 such spectacles on the earth, to terrify the timorous, 
 and give occasion to paltering with the credulity of his 
 creatures. 
 
 It is truly surprising how rational men can resort 
 to these methods of reasoning. When we admit the 
 omnii)0tcnce,'we are bound likewise to admit the om- 
 niscience, of the Deity; and presumptuous indeed 
 must that man be who overlooks the contractedness of 
 his own intellectual vision, or asserts that, because ho 
 cannot see a reason for a supernatural interference, 
 none therefore can exist in the eye of the Supremo. 
 
 The objects of God are inscrutable ; an appearance 
 of the departed upon the earth may have consequen- 
 ces which none — not even those who are afftcttd hi) it — 
 can either discover or suppose * Can any human 
 wisdom presume to divine why man was originally 
 created at all ? why one man is cut short in high, 
 blooming health and youth, and another lingers long 
 in a.'c and decre])itude ? why the best of men are fre- 
 quently the most unfortunate, and the greatest villains 
 the most prosperous ? why the heinous criminal es- 
 capes in triumph, and the innocent being is destroy- 
 ed by torture I And is the production of a supernatural 
 appearance, for the inscrutable purposes of God, 
 more extraordinary, or less credible, than these other 
 ordinations of the Deity, or than all those unaccounta- 
 ble phenomena of nature, which arc only — as the ris- 
 ing and setting sun — disregarded by ^common minds, 
 from the frequency of their occurrence '! 
 
 This is a subject whereon I feel strongly and seri- 
 ouslv, and hence it is that I have been led into so long 
 exordium. I regard the belief in supernatural appar- 
 itions as insejiarable from my Christain faith and my 
 view of Divine Omnipotence ; and however good and 
 learned individuals may possibly impugn my reason- 
 ing I have the consolation of knowing that the very 
 best and wisest doctors in divinity and m.asters of arts 
 in the British empire can have no better or Iratr infor- 
 mation upon the subject than myself; that I am as 
 much in my senses as many of them ; and that the 
 Dcitv has made no sort of distinction between the in- 
 tellectual capacity of a bishop and a judge : the se- 
 crets of heaven are not divulged to either of them. 
 The judge docs justice to other people, and the bishop 
 does justice to himself : both are eiiually ignorant of 
 the mysteries of futurity, and must alike wait until 
 they pass the dim boundary of the grave, to gain any 
 pniclical information. When a military ca)>tain is or- 
 dained a clergyman, as is somewhat the fashion dur- 
 ing the peace establishment, does he become one atom 
 wiser or more knowing as to the next world than when 
 he was in the array ! Probably, on the other hand, 
 
 • Nothing in print places my tbconr in so distinct, clear,' 
 and i>lea.-ing a point of view, as I'arnell's ■Hermit'— W 
 etrouK, moral, and impressive tale— beautiful m poetry, anO. 
 abounding in instruction. There the omniscience of God 
 is exemplified by human incidcnt9,Bnd the mysterious cause* 
 o( his actions brought home to the commonest capacity^ 
 The moral ofthat short and simple talc says more than a 
 hundred volumes of dogmatic controversies! the lollow- 
 iiig couplets appear to me extremely impressive:— 
 
 'The Maker justly claims that world he made: 
 
 In this the right ol I'rovidcnce is laid : 
 
 Its sacred majestv. through all, dcpemis 
 
 Ou using second means to work its ends. ^ 
 
 ' ^Vhat strange events can strike with more surprise 
 Than those which latelv struck thv wondering eyes? 
 Yet. taught by these, confess the Almighty just; 
 And where you cauM iiuridak, learn to iriisl.' 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 107 
 
 he thinks much less about the matter than when stand- 
 ing upon the field of battloT 
 
 I would not have the reader imagire that I should be 
 found ready to receive any idle ghost-story which 
 might be told me. So far contrary, I have always 
 been of opinion tliat no incident or appearance (and I 
 have expressed as mucli before in this work), however 
 strange, should be considered as supernatural which 
 could any how be otherwise accounted for,or referred to 
 natural or human agency. 
 
 I will proceed at once to the little narrative thus 
 importantly prefaced. The circumstances will, I 
 think, be admitted as of an extraordinary nature : they 
 were not connected with tlio workings of imagination; 
 depended not on the fancy of a single individual : the 
 occurence was, altogether, both in its character and in 
 its possible application, far beyond the speculations 
 of man. But let me endeavor to soften and prepare 
 my mind for the strange recital by some more pleasing 
 recollections connected with the principle subject 
 of it. 
 
 Immediately after the rebellion of 1798, the countess 
 dowager o' Mayo discovered a man concealed under 
 her bed, and was so terrified that she instantly fled 
 from her country residence in the most beautiful part 
 of County Wicklow : she departed for Dublin, wlience 
 she immediately sailed for England, and never after 
 returned. Her ladyship directed her agent (Mr. Da- 
 vis) immediately to dispose of her residence, demesne 
 and everything within the house and on the grounds, 
 for whatever they might bring. All property in the 
 disturbed districts being then of small comparative 
 value, and there having been a battle fought at Mount 
 Kennedy, near her house, a short time previous, I pur- 
 chased the whole estate, as it stood, at a very moder- 
 ate price, and on the ensuing day was put into pos- 
 session of my new mansion. I found a house not large, 
 but very neat and in good order, with a considerable 
 quantity of furniture, some excellent wines, &c. and 
 the lands in full produce. The demesne was not ex- 
 tensive, but delightfully situated in a district which, I 
 believe, for the union of rural beauties and mild unifor- 
 mity of climate, few spots can excel. 
 
 I have already disclaimed all pretensions, as a writer, 
 to the power of scenic description or imaginary land- 
 scape ; though no'person existing is more gratified than 
 myself with the contemplation of splendid scenerj^; in 
 saying this, however, I do not mean that savage sub- 
 limity of landscape — that majestic assemblage of stu- 
 pendous mountain and roaring cataract — of colossal 
 rocks and innumerable precipices — where Nature ap- 
 pears to designate to the bear and the eagle, to the boar 
 or chamois, those tracts, which site originally created 
 for their peculiar accommodation : to the enthusias- 
 tic sketcher and the high wrought tourist I yield an 
 exclusive right to those interesting regions, which are 
 far too sublime for my ordinary pencil. I own that I 
 prefer that luxurious scenery where the art and indus- 
 try of man go hand in hand with the embellishments 
 of nature, and where Providence smiling, combines 
 her hiessiiirjs with her hmiities. 
 
 Were I asked to exemplify my ideas of rural, ani- 
 mated, cheering landscape, I should say — 'My frienil, 
 travel ! — visit that narrow region which we call tlie 
 golden belt of Ireland ;* explore every league from the 
 metropolis to the meeting of the waters : journey which 
 way you please, you will find the native myrtle and in- 
 digenous arbutus, glowing throughout the severest 
 winter, and forming the ordinary cottage fence. 
 
 The scenery of Wicklow is doubtless on a very mi- 
 nor scale, quite unable to compete with the grandeur 
 and immensity of continental landscape : even to our 
 own Kilhvrney it is not comparable ; but it possesses 
 a genial glowing luxury, whereof more elevated sce- 
 nery is often destitute. It U, besides, in tbe world : its 
 beauties seem alive. It blooms : it blossoms : the 
 
 •Tliat lovely district e.xtends about thirty miles in Icngtli 
 and from four to seven in breadtli; it commences near Dub- 
 lin, aud ends at ii 8t»ort distance beyond Avondale: the soil 
 is generally a warm gravel, with verdant valleys, bounded 
 by moutituins arable to tlieir summits on one sitle, and by 
 the sea ujjou the other. The gold mine is ou a froutier of 
 this district: and it i-s perhaps the most coiigoaial to the 
 growth ot trees and shrubs, of auy 'jot iu tlie British du- 
 zninious 
 
 mellow climate extracts from every shrub a tribute of 
 fragrance wherewith the atmosphere is saturated, and 
 through such a medium does the refreshing rain de- 
 scend to brighten the hues of the evergreens 1 
 
 I frankly admit myself an enthusiast as to that love- 
 ly district. In truth, I fear I should have been enthu- 
 siastic on many points, had not law, the most power- 
 ful antidote to that feeling interposed to check its 
 growth. 
 
 The site of my sylvan residence, Dunran, was near- 
 ly in the centre of the golden belt, about fifteen miles 
 from the capital ; but owing to the varied nature of 
 the country, it appeared far more distant. Bounded 
 by the beautiful glen of the downs, at the foot of the 
 magnificent Bellevue, and the more distant sugar-loaf 
 mountain called the Dangle, together with Tynnebinch 
 (less celebrated for its unrivalled scenery than as 
 the residence of Ireland's first patriot) the dark deep 
 glen, the black lake and mystic vale of Lugelough, con- 
 trasted quite magically with the highly-cultivated beau- 
 ties of Dunran : (the parks, and wilds, and sublime 
 cascade of Powerscourt, and the newly-created mag- 
 nificence of Mount Kennedy, abundantly prove that 
 perfection itself may exist in contrasts), in fine I 
 found myself enveloped by the hundred beauties of 
 that enchanting district, which, though of one family, 
 were rendered yet more attractive by the variety of 
 their features : and had I not been tied to laborious du- 
 ties, I should infallibly have sought refuge there alto- 
 gether from the cares of the world. 
 
 One of the greatest pleasures I enjoyed while a resi- 
 dent at Dunran, was the near abode of the late Lord 
 Rossmore, at that time commander-in-chief in Ireland. 
 His lordahip knew my father, and from my commence- 
 ment in public life, had been my friend, and a sincere 
 one. He was a Scotsman born, but had come to Ire- 
 land when very young, as page to the lord-lieutenant. 
 He had married an heiress : had purchased the estate 
 of Mount Kennedy ; built a noble mansion ; laid out 
 some of the finest gardens in Ireland ; and in fact, im- 
 proved the demesne, as far as taste, skill, and money, 
 could accomplish. He was what may be called a re- 
 markably fine old man, quite the gentleman, and when 
 at Mount Kennedy quite the country gentleman. He 
 lived in a style few people can attain to : his table,sup- 
 plied by his own farms, were adapted to the viceroy 
 himself yet was ever spread for his neighbors : in a 
 word, no man ever kept a more even hand in society, 
 than Lord Rossmore, and no man was ever better re- 
 paid by universal esteem. Had his connections pos- 
 sessed his understanding, and practised his habits, 
 they would probably have found more friends when 
 they wanted them. 
 
 This intimacy at Mount Kennedy gave rise to an oc- 
 currence the most extraordinary and inexplicable of 
 my whole existence — an occurrence which for many 
 years occupied ray thoughts, and wrought on my im- 
 agination. Lord Rossmore was advanced in years, 
 but I never heard of his having had a single day's in- 
 disposition. He bore, in his green old age, the ap- 
 pearance of robust health. During the vice-royalty of 
 Earl Hardjfick, Lady Harrington, at a drawing-room 
 at Dublin castle, met Lord Rossmore. He had been 
 making up one of his weekly parties for Mount Ken- 
 nedy, to commence the next day, and had sent down 
 orders for every preparation to be made. The lord- 
 lieutenant was to bo of the company. 
 
 'My little farmer,' said he to Lady Barrington, ad- 
 dressing her by a pet name, ' when you go home, tell 
 Sir Jonah that no business is to prevent him from 
 bringing you down to dine with mo to-morrow. I will 
 have no ifs in the matter — so tell him that come he 
 viustl' She promised positively, and on her return in- 
 formed me of her eng.agement, to which I at once 
 agreed. We retired to our chamber about twelve ; and 
 toward two in the morning, I was awakened Ijy a 
 sound of a very extraordinary nature. I listened ; ,t 
 occurred first at short intervals ; it resembled neither a 
 voice nor an instrument ; it was softer than any voice, 
 and wilder than any music, and seemed to float in the 
 air. I don't know wherefore, but my heart beat forci- 
 bly 
 
 most died away in the air ; when a sudden change, as 
 if excited by a pang', changed its tone : it seemed de- 
 scending. I felt every nerve tremble ; it was not a na<- 
 itral sound, nor could I make out the point whence it 
 came. 
 
 At length I awakened Lady Barrington, who heard 
 it as well as myself; she suggested that it might be an 
 Eolian harp — but to that instrument it bore no simil- 
 itude : it was aitogether a different character of sound. 
 My wife at flrst appeared less aiTected than I; but sub- 
 sequently she was more so. 
 
 We now went to a large window in our bed-room 
 which looked directly upon a small garden underneath: 
 the sound seemed then obviously to ascend from a 
 grass-plot immediately below our window. It contin- 
 ued ; Lady Barrington requested that I would call up 
 her maid, which I did, and she was evidently more af- 
 fected than either of us. The sounds lasted for more 
 than half an hour. At last a deep, heavy, throbbing 
 sigh seemed to issue from the spot, and was shortly 
 succeeded by a sharp but low cry, and by the distinct 
 exclamation, thrice repeated, of ' Rossmore — Ross- 
 more — Rossmore 1' I will not attempt to describe my 
 own feelings ; indeed I cannot. The maid fled in ter- 
 ror from the window, and it was with difficulty I pre- 
 vailed on Lady Barrington to return to bed ; in about 
 a minute after, the sound died gradually away, until 
 all was silent. 
 
 Lady Barrington, who is not so supastitious as I, at- 
 tributed this circumstance to a hundred different caus- 
 es, and made me promise that I would not mention it 
 next day at Mount Kennedy, since we should be there- 
 by rendered laughing-stocks. At length, wearied with 
 speculations, we fell into a sound slumber. 
 
 About seven the ensuing morning a strong rap at 
 my chamber door awakened me. The recollection of 
 the past night's adventure rushed instantly upon my 
 mind, and rendered me very unfit to be taken sudden- 
 ly on any subject. It was light ; I went to the door, 
 when my faithful servant, Lawler, exclaimed on the 
 other side, ' Oh Lord, sir ! ' — ' What is the matter 7 ' 
 said I, hurriedly : ' Oh, sir ! ' ejaculated he, ' Lord 
 Rossmore's footman was running past the door in great 
 haste, and told me in passing that my lord, after com- 
 ing -rom the castle, had gone to bed in perfect health, 
 but that about half after two this morning, his own 
 man hearing a noise in his master's bed (he slept in 
 the same room), went to him, and found him in the 
 agonies of death ; and before he could alarm the other 
 servants, all was over !' 
 
 I conjecture nothing. I only relate the incident as 
 unequivocally matter of fact ; Lord Rossmore was ab- 
 solutely dying at the moment I heard his name pronounced. 
 Let skeptics draw their own conclusions ; perhaps nat- 
 ural causes may be assigned ; but 1 am totally une- 
 qual to the task. 
 
 Atheism may ridicule me : — Orthodoxy may despise 
 me ; Bigotry may lecture me ; Fanaticism might burn 
 me ; yet in my very faith I would seek consolation. — 
 It is in my mind better to believe too much than too lit- 
 tle, and that is the only theological crime of which I 
 can be fairly accused. — Barringtori s Sketches. 
 
 A French seller of sausages infuses the lottery prin- 
 ciple iuto his business, by putting a gold coin in one 
 of every fifty sausages. 
 
 A knavish attorney asked a very worthy gentleman 
 what was honesty '.' ' What is that to you "i ' said 
 he ; ' meddle with those things that concern you most.' 
 
 In the county of Norfolk, a lady has six sons, each 
 of whom is six feet four inches high. She says the 
 way she drew them out was by feeding them on legs 
 of Shanghai chickens. A hint for our short friends. 
 
 A little friend of ours, a few days ago, while com- 
 ing down stairs, was cautioned by his mother not to 
 lose his balance. The question which followed was a 
 puzzler : — ' Mother, if I should lose my balance, 
 where would it go to ? ' 
 
 A WoKD TO THE YocNG. — Tour seniors have in 
 all cases a right to deference from you and even if ig- 
 
 norant are entitled further to respectful expostulation, 
 the sound became still more plaintive, till it nl- ' and not sarcastic exposure. 
 
108 
 
 IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 A TOUR IN THE SOUTH-WEST. 
 
 NO. V. 
 LETTER TO JOHN JIAHTIM, ESQ. — PARIS. 
 
 New Orleans, Jan. S5lli, l!tSS. 
 
 The ' Prlnccm ' «•»« nln^ntly iBdfii with colton-holcs at 
 Violuburgt a»^ thought i but it peomtt 9I10 was to cull for 
 more at Xnlchfz nnd peirral other point* — Boiui? oiiu of 
 the Ihirtrst mhI nioi4 sumptuous boM.« on thf river, Aw wns , 
 flllfd with passengwrs, a tiuirt, wdl-bivil ami nprvabh! com- | 
 pany. The aOfrpnrtDl ttw Rreat wloon (nmrlyoni-third | 
 ofihc whole l«i(5th)«-«»divl<h.>d6y sliding doora fW>m the' 
 rest, and rvferved for ladies in tlie snme manner as the 
 ' Ijidies' Tarlor' in our liotek. Thij was v-erj- hnmlsomely 
 atted up; and ont.<ide of it nil around, a portion of tlie out- ! 
 er gallery was also cut offbv partition; so that tliey might ' 
 hnwas muchpriv-ocyas tliey de>1re<l. Any woman may | 
 thus tmi-rl, e\vn«nprolect«l, up or down tlie wliole Miss- 
 is*ip|ii whli»ut apprthensiou or chance of annoyance even j 
 should tliere happen to be on hoard men who arc brutes. ; 
 This is worth mentioning in a letter U) the comparnlively [ 
 nnciviHzed continent of Europe; though, here, tire thing is 
 too long establislie<l to cicite wmarli or s»irprise. Further, [ 
 t hav«to i«ord that tlie mah? pa.«sengers on board, being 
 mostly Soutlierii gentlemen, were, all of tltcm, so fiir as I 
 obsen-eil. men of refined and digiiilied manuer-s with that 
 gentle tone of voice niKl courtesy of demeanor ■which are 
 characlcristic of the South, and wliicli I attribute iu great 
 parttottie institution of Sla\-ery. A theory possesses me 
 upon this subject, which before my tour is over, I sliall pro- 
 poand to yourconsiilenition. In tlie mennlime I ajn keep- 
 ing my e>"es open, and rcconling in my mind isolated phe- 
 nomena, from whicli. by strict induction (as Lord Bacon 
 directs) I hope to gather a vintage of generalizatioiis. 
 
 My friend Jliijor Roclie, of Vicksburg. catnc on board 
 with me, and introduced neto many Mississippian gentle- 
 men, who were to be my fcllow-paswngers, This not only 
 secureil ime a more agreeable passage, but afforded me that 
 opportunity,— so dear to philosophers IFkc you and me — of 
 observing men and manners; and of eliciting mrious opin- 
 ions (at the same time nKxIestly insitiirating my own) on 
 Cuba, on tlie |io.sition of tlie South, on the Administration, 
 — on ^xmien, Africa, liorse.s currency, India, Central 
 America, and all the otliereontinvnts and isles. 
 
 The day atVir w-e left VicVshnrg %\-as warm and bright. 
 The clearings and plantations grew more fivquent on 
 both baiiksof tlie rirer; and we stopped se\-erBl times to 
 roll iu aiKl build up on tlte guards, numerons cotton-bales; 
 «lso to replenish our wood; which at certain .stations is piled 
 np on the wlgeof tlie bank, cut to the size ^^^luted for our 
 fires- At tlie;^ wx>odrng statnms is usually a cluster of 
 ■wooden cottages, which, T ■will nor tleny it, took dreary 
 enouglL withtlic dnrk leollcss forest behind them, and a 
 tract ofcane-lirake stretching away on ciOier side. This 
 •cane'of tlie West is admirable iMsture. however, for cat- 
 tle: and wlien it is thick and close, makes both pasture 
 and coi-er for innumerable bear*. 'We saw many gnod lior- 
 »ei. both at plantations and wooding depots. I came to 
 the conclusion that Louisiana and Mis-siss ippi have a fa- 
 TOrable climate and soil for horse-bweding and where the 
 borse thrives, there will thrive Ilic hor,sc-tn»ner- 
 
 Asw^ proceed soutliWTinl, the ri\-er wxms higlicr, and 
 more perilously close to tlie level of llie land. Often, from 
 themitldleoftliv riwr, the two feet of perpendicular clay 
 bank are invisililoaltopetlier; and you wonder what con- 
 fines this tawny monster on whose back wt; ride. Tlierc is, 
 liowertr. on each bank, at twenty or thirty >-ords from the 
 river, a mound or Ici-ee, (from three to eight feet high ap- 
 parently) kept up by tlie planters, tx) fence tlieir own plan- 
 tations; aiKl, wlien tlwre are no planters, maiutained by the 
 several Stales under ' Levee Commissioners.' 
 
 All along here, from Vickeburg to Nntcliez, thett! occur 
 I think, no bluffs or liills; but at last, about tlie second day, 
 we find the lamlri«ingon the Hifsis-sijipi side, and the eye 
 is relieved from llie dmd ami dismal terel. We see but lit- 
 tle of the town as we approach; for Natchezisbuilt on the 
 summit of a steep bank, about 150 Icet in lieight; and hud- 
 dled at the fool of it, close to the river, lies ' Natchez under 
 the Hill,"— once metropolis of murderers, stronghold of 
 gamblers, and unsuitable retreat for women of uneasy vir- 
 tue; but now a quiet shipping-place for cotton —Cotton, 
 you observe, is an agent of civilization; and as it became 
 an important staple, Nalclicz over tlic Hill was forcitl to 
 give Xatcliez under the Hill, notice to quit- TIk- (ienius of 
 Cotton fluttered the Volsciaua iu their dove cots; alone 
 he did it- 
 
 ■What has become of the gang that once made this ground 
 cla.ssic, I have not learne<l with any accuracy. Some per- 
 haps embarked in the cotton-trade, kis»ing the hand that 
 smote them; some died in penitentiaries, regretting to the 
 last the high and palmy days of villainy, the euchre and the 
 poker, sports of theiryouth when ever>* sport could please 
 provided that it paid. One became virtuous, and rose, it 
 is said, to be Mayor of New York; and one (ell gloriously 
 in the Mexicau war. as he led his brave volunteer company 
 to the charge on the I'laza of Monterey, while Santa Anna's 
 column reeled before the verj- flash of the fixed bayonets 
 and the wcll-knowu thunder words, 'come on, boys— give 
 em Ueli: ' 
 
 It i> not to our Mends Under-thc-Hlll, that Natchez owes | 
 all its classic associations either. For here we are on the 
 scene of Atala; and one's memory Is bound to be throng- 
 ed by the creations of the poetic Vlconitc. There, on the 
 blufi*, stand the remains of Fort Kosalie, where two hun- 
 dred of the French colonists were slain by the Natchez In- 
 dians; a stern and fierce tribe in their generation; but they 
 too have passed away, like the gambler, and the/'oiffn, and 
 the superstitions ofthe Dark Ages. 
 
 Amongst our fellow-pas.sengors fi-om 'N^icksburg to Natch- 
 ez, is Col. Hilliard, an agreeable companion, t» very hand- 
 some man, and editor of the Natchez Courirr. He has been 
 attending the ^lasonic Convention at Jackson; and Is now 
 on his return. He very courteously invites me (in order to 
 make the most o( the three or four hours we remain here) 
 to put myself under his charge. I gladly avail myself of 
 his kindness. A carriage is provided; and accompanied by 
 two othergentlemcn, we presently ascend the bluff by a 
 gradual sidelong road, well made and gravelled. We find 
 ourselves in town ; a quiet, steady-looking town -with re- 
 spectable streets of substantia! houses: and in every vacant ^ 
 lot, or yard, a drove of wi//f5, nil loose, and seeming much 
 addicted to kicking one another. Observingme looking 
 somewhat curiously at the congregations of mules, my 
 friends inform me that Natchez is a consideroblc emporium 
 for the supply and sale of that unclean animal. 
 
 Near the middle of the town. Col. Uillinrd leaves ns for 
 a time to visit his family, after many days absence; but 
 gives directions to have me carried to such points of inter- 
 est as strangers in Natchez usually wish to see, and ap- 
 points to meet again at a certain hour at the' Rosalie Club 
 House.' Accordingly we proceed to visit the grounds of a 
 most beautiful cottage, situated under the bluff a little above 
 the town, and having lovely gardens, with artificial mounds, 
 arboun*, hedges of rose-trees in full bloom, and a magnifi- 
 cent camelia japonica, occupying a small greenhouse by it- 
 self and loaded with snowy (lowers. Beneath, on one side, 
 sweeps the Mississippi ; and on the other the high binffmakes 
 a curve inward, leaving between bluff and river a most en- 
 chanting nook, so cunningly turned to good account by the 
 hand of taste. The face ofthe bluff itself all around this 
 sweeping curve, is clothed with copse-wood, varied by a 
 few large trees. Ornamental shade-trees, especially the no- 
 ble magnolias, arc disposed without formality, yet precise- 
 ly where they ought to be. One of our friends— I withhold 
 his name lest it should come to the ears of the worthy pro- 
 prietor— steals a few flowers to make a bouquet for a lady 
 on board the I'rincess; and so we take leave of this beauti- 
 ful spot, wishing health and longevity to the good owner, 
 Mr. Brown, a Scotchman ; who is owner also of a lumber- 
 yui-d close by, and is prepared to supply planters and other 
 patrons withscasoned lumber, saw u at the most esteemed 
 mill,— cither for fences or frame houses, with punctuality 
 and dispatch, and on terms as favorable as any other yard 
 on the River. 
 
 Thence we proceed to a new house, not yet inhabited, 
 but havingthe last touch put on it, lately built by an Irish- 
 man ofthe city. It isoue ofthe lions of Natchez; and is 
 certainly a remarkably fine and splendid residence, for this 
 country; havingcost, they say, fully one hundred thousand 
 dollars. It stands to Drunibonagher in Armagh, or Klor- 
 encecourt in Fermanagh, perhaps, in the proportion of one 
 to six. This is the best approximation I can make. But 
 it is a town residence, having no demesne round it, but only 
 a square field of two or three acres. They cannot pretend 
 here, and I trust they will never be able to pretend, no not 
 the most 'aristocratic' of them, to vie with the de^iperate- 
 ly criminal magnificence of English or Irish residences of 
 the ' upiier classes; ' but tliey do their best. 
 
 Many other fine houses appear on the outskirts of the 
 town, or glimmering through the woods behind; and at 
 many points, as we drive around, we come full upon an 
 open view of the giant liiver; the sight whereof never fails 
 to make your correspondent's heart leap up. 
 
 Three o'clock. Rosalie Club. Our friend, ♦he Colonel, 
 is awaiting U.S, and we are formally inducted; our names 
 are on the book, and we have the rnirrr of the club-house 
 while we stay. Slight refreshment; a glance over the news- 
 papers—just to see whether Lucknow has been relieved 
 nenin as itwcre: and then Adieu to Natchezl I return to 
 the steamboat • I'rincess,' feeling that this time at least I 
 have enjoyed ' the hospitalities of a city ' after my own 
 taste— that is to say, not formal addresses and vociferations, 
 from mayors and municipalites; but the genial courtesies 
 ofprivatc gentlemen: some plea.«ant talk, an oyster, a glass 
 of champagne, a cigar, and adieu ! Col. Uilliard, as I hear, 
 edits a paper of the Know Nothing school, and propounds 
 the gros.s and ludicrous heresy that ' Americans must rule 
 America —a thing, you know, which cant be done, and is 
 not to be thought ol". But I protest that while I was with 
 him, it never occurred to me to investigate his politics; and 
 this perhaps is the highest compliment one can pay to an 
 E<litor. 
 
 I could not help contrasting this quiet enjoyment of the 
 true hospitalities of Natchez with our friend O'Shaughnes- 
 sy's experiences ofthe civic hospitalities of the city of Cin- 
 cinnati three or four years ago. Did you ever hear how 
 O'Shaughnessy enjoyed the hospitalities of Cincinnati.' 
 
 O'Shaughnessy was expected in that ' Queen city ' on • 
 certain day. Now the ' city ' Is an Inland, and for so largo 
 a place rather secluded town, or rathor village of about 
 120,000 persons. It buys and sciuIh down the river muob 
 Ohio flour; it makes chairs; above all it packs pork. They 
 are generally ' hard up' for amusement, and seize upon any 
 occasion of a row; for after all man needs some excitement, 
 and the slaughtering and selling of hogs alone sufllces not 
 Immortal souls. Especially they love distinguished stran- 
 gers. 
 
 On this occasion.it was thought that O'Shaughnessy might 
 be made into a distinguished stranger for r?;!^ day— he had 
 never been there before; many of them had heard his name; 
 — it was enough; whilehe, unsuspecting traveller, was com- 
 ing down the (Jhjo from rittsburg, the Municipal Councils 
 ofthe city convened, and decreed him a public reception, 
 and hospitalities of the city, — that is to say addresses of 
 welcome and so forth. All unconscious, he arrived about 
 Ihedawn of a winter's morning, — welcomed himself to the 
 Burnett House, and unanirhously voted himself the hospi- 
 talities of that flue hotel. 
 
 In the mcantlmetheX^ueen city was getting herself into a 
 most capital excitement and confhsion, the very thing de- 
 sired. A vehement an<l indignant agitation arose against 
 the aiayor and councillors. For CincinDati was both a 
 stronghold of Know Nothingism, and a fortress of what 
 they call ' Human 'Freedom' in those parts— and here was 
 a foreign, nay, an Irish adventurer, and a friend of slavery, 
 going to be welcomed by her civic authorities! Of course 
 rumors were blown abroad to aggravate the popular rage, 
 that lip was an outrageous crimlnal—that he was well known 
 to have a plantation somewhere South, and to take special 
 delight in flogging his negro-wenches with an ingenious 
 whip of raw-hide. Besides, were Americans no longer to 
 rule America? t/m/ was the question; — and was the Queen 
 city to prove recreant to the great principle of Human Free- 
 dom? Whereby, you observe, issue was joined. 
 
 A friend visited O'Shaughnessy at once. — told him ho 
 was to be a distinguished stranger for that day ; but that in 
 the evening there was to be a vast 'Indignation meeting' 
 at the greatest building In the city ; and that such was the 
 exasperation of the people that the very Councillors who 
 had voted the addresses, &c., would be afraid to present 
 them; that there would, however, be probably no riot, but 
 in any case the Irish residents, with two militia companies 
 would defend their visitor against the hospitalities of the 
 city. Here was a consolatory reflection. O'Shaughnessy 
 was requested to look out of the window; he saw, even at 
 that early hour parties of loud citizens hurrying along, and 
 huge placardswith ' Indignation Meeting.' He thought it 
 too hard to be made a distinguished stranger upon these 
 terms; and had some thoughts of flying by the next train 
 in any direction, or crossing the river into Kentucky ; — 
 'To turn the rein were sin and shame; 
 To fight were wondrous peril.' 
 
 On the whole he breakfasts with what appetite he may; 
 swallows a glass of brandy and water, and awaits the May- 
 or and city Councillors. The Mayor comes by himself; 
 reads his address in the public room before a great crowd ; 
 and is responded to by O'Shaughnessy in that graceful aud 
 felicitous strain which, you kuow, is ' incidental to his na- 
 tion and peculiar to himself.' 
 
 The day wears on ; at last, four city Councillors, out of 
 about thirty, resolve to brave the outcries of a people pmeo 
 jiihrniitim: and they actually come to read their document. 
 O'Shaughnessy, this time, receives them coldly, aud replies 
 grimly and curtly; for his admirable temper begins to give 
 way. In fact, when one of the polite Councillors attempts 
 to add some remarks of his own, which the distinguished 
 guest of the city deems irrelevant, he cuts the gentleman 
 short rather rudely, saying he has had enough of their hos- 
 pitalities. Retreat, covered by general laugh. 
 
 All this while some worthy gentlemen ot the city, think- 
 ing probably that Cincinnati was not cutting a handsome 
 figure this day, decided on giving O'Shaughnessy a social 
 entertainment the same evening at the Burnett House, in 
 order to make hiin ' feel good ' after the civic hospitalities, 
 aud so crown the day, or rather drown it, in sparkling 
 Catawba. Next, then, imagine a splendid saloon with three 
 lofty windows of stained glass at one side, at the other 
 three doors, opening on a corridor. Supper is just despatch- 
 ed, by about a hundred and fifty persons. A fine band has 
 just finished the Star-spangled Banner; O'Shaughnessy be- 
 gins to forget that he is a di-tinguished stranger; and tlio 
 chairman is on his feet, proposing that individual's health; 
 when a large crowd pours along the street; Indignation 
 meeting just broken up (a perfect triumph)— they tee the 
 lights and hear the music, and knowhig what is taking 
 place inside, a regard for the Constitution and for Human 
 Freedom, impels them to break in the windows w ith paving- 
 stones. Many persons, in such circumstances, start up. aud 
 put chairs over their heads; for a half a minute, stones come 
 flying in; and the negro waiters tumble out through the op- 
 posite doors, making a hideous noise with the dish-covera. 
 The tumult was soon suppressed however; a few ofthe vag- 
 abonds were arrested (aud fined In a nominal sum next 
 morning; for the city was insucha temper that it would 
 not have endured their real punishment)— and the entertain- 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 109 
 
 mcnt proceeded as if notliing had happened. The most 
 characteristic poi-tion of tlie proceedings remains to be told 
 — the very city Councillors who had voted tliese famous hos- 
 pitalities went to the Indignation meeting, almost every 
 one of them, and publicly apologised to their constituents 
 for welcoming this foreign adventurer and negro-trader, 
 promising never to do the like again. 
 
 So the Queen city felt relieved in her conscience and 
 600thed in her nervous system; and O'Shaughnessy was 
 gratified at having been instrumeutui in procuring her a 
 little wholesome excitement. 
 
 They manage these things differently at the South. If 
 you come into any city, and have letters of introduction, or 
 are otlierwise favorably known, you are visited, invited, 
 dealt with as a reasonable being, and not iorced upon a 
 platform — bidden to stand and deliver— expected to give 
 buncombe for buncombe — to exchange unmeaning and 
 common-place trash with eloquent otiicial persons (which 
 may * make capital ' for the said otiicial persons.) In short, 
 you are not ftort-rf, and made weary of your life. Mind that, 
 if you should ever come to America. Slip quietly through 
 Kew York, avoid the Queen city, and cleave unto the Cres- 
 cent. 
 
 Vogue la galere.' We are gliding down from Natchez ; and 
 the day sinks gorgeously to rest amidst his rose-leaves. 
 Bands of negroes, on either bank are wending home from 
 their work; and their rows of neat huts are smoking with 
 the preparation for their suppers — 
 
 Of herbs and other country messes, 
 "Which the black-handed Phyllis dresses — 
 And hark 1 as evening darkens, the banjo ! And from a 
 row of whitewashed negro-quarters near the water's edge 
 rises tile strain : Oh.' Susannah.' don'tyoucryforinel an ex- 
 hortation to wliich I would respectfully call the attention 
 of the dear kind Spirit of the Age. 
 
 About nine o'clock on Sunday night we pass a forest of 
 masts, very little short of the East river wharves; and the 
 lights of New Orleans gleams through them. Steam-boat 
 Uvee; bawling of hackmen— ' St. Louis!' 'St. Charles I' 
 ' City Hotel, Sir !'— the usual rush and confusion for a little 
 while; and then after a short journey through some hand- 
 some streets, behold us at the portals of a temple white and 
 massive, far-gleaming through the lighted streets with its 
 Corinthian columns and capitals. In the ^jronaos we inscribe 
 our names in the book of the recording priest ; and are then 
 inducted into theadyta by a courteous minister of the altar, 
 whose tongue has the musical intonations ofGarryowen. 
 We are in the St. Charles Hotel— G ood night ! 
 
 J.M. 
 
 COKBESPONDEITOE. 
 OUE DUBLIN COERESrONDENCE. 
 
 Disagreement of the Jitkt in Father Conway's 
 Case— Father Luke Ryan's Trial— Palmerstok's 
 Defeat— Probable Discontinuance or the 'Priest 
 Hunt'— Miserv in Donegal— The Irish Miscellany 
 IN Dublin, &c 
 
 The Jury in the case of Father Conway have disagreed, 
 the papers taken from them, and they are discharged. I 
 told you in my last that I could only recognise one Catho- 
 lic name on the special jury; it is now said that the jury 
 ^was composed of six catholics and six protestants, How 
 this may he I have no means of determining. It is also 
 stated that eight of the jury were for convicting the Kev. 
 Mr. Conway and four for his acquittal. 
 
 This is probably true, but then you know, that some of 
 the greatest enemies of Ireland are Catholics; and there are 
 always poltroons enough, even among Irish Catholics, to 
 do the dirty work of their masters. Several of the witness- 
 es are catholics; Col. Higgins whose election Mr. Conway 
 opposed, was a catholic; Attorney General Fitzgerald is a 
 catholic, and has procured his present promotion by hia 
 base betrayal of the best interests of his catholic fellow- 
 countrymen. Need we then wonder, that two catholics out 
 of six were for sending the Reverend Traverser to jail?— 
 To me the wonder is, after the great paius taken by the 
 government, that the whole six did not vote to punish the 
 poor priest for having the temerity to oppose the election 
 of a ' castle hack' like ihe renegade Higgins. 
 
 The trial ol Father Luke Ryan is the next in order. The 
 blood hounds of England are already pulling at the leash 
 and anxious for the hunt. One right royal prey has escap- 
 ed from their fangs, and the disappointment of the beasU 
 has made their appetite for blood keener. There is. how- 
 ever, a slight prospect of the 'priest hunt' being put a stop 
 to by the change of government. Palmerston has been 
 kicked out, and the Earl of Derby has tumbled in. This 
 may prevent Father Ryan from being brought to trial, as 
 the pious Fitzgerald follows his leader, and the poltroon 
 caictlwHc will be succeeded by a good, honest, open ene- 
 emy^ from whom we expect no quarter. The Orange At- 
 torney General will not like to be burdened with the dirty 
 work of his catholic predecessor; but yet the pleasure of 
 hunting a priest to the death, may be stronger than these 
 considerations. 
 
 The wail of sorrow and lamentation comes rushing upon 
 
 our ears, with every wind from the mountains of Donegal. 
 Thousands of God's creatures are perishing in the north 
 that English and Scotch sheep may thrive. We are doing 
 all we can in the south and west to alleviate the sufferings 
 of our fellow-countrymen ; but, alas! we can do but lit- 
 tle. The winter is just passing away, and although it has 
 been unusually mild, there has not been much work for on 
 people. Is there any other people on God's domain, who 
 would submit in peace and patience to the odious tyra 
 of infamous landlords, as we do? Would not the people of 
 Donegal bejustilied, it they had the power, in e.xterm 
 ting from the earth the murderers who thus doom them to 
 starvation? The people of Donegal are Celts of the purest 
 cast: the Celtic love of justice is a prominent feature 
 their^character. They also hate oppression, and you need 
 not be surprised in the United States if you hear, that some 
 of the stalwart mountaineers have resorted to the 'i 
 justice of revenge,' for that redress which English law in 
 Ireland denies to them. 
 
 Do, I implore you, do all you can to induce our country- 
 men in the Republic to assist the poor perishing people of 
 Donegal? In particular, I ask the people from that part of 
 Ireland, now in the United States, not to forget their own 
 kith and kin. 
 
 There is a weeks' later news from India. More ' as- 
 saults,' more ' victories,' for the English, but still more 
 troops are required to subjugate the rebellious Sepoys! — 
 The war in India is not yet over. England must spend 
 more blood and treasure to restore her hated rule over the 
 Hindoos than she did in her long struggle with Napo- 
 leon. 
 
 The first number of the Miscellany is at hand. I like 
 the appearance of it very much. Many persons to whom I 
 showed it are much in love with it. You must appoint an 
 agent in Dublin, and you will sell many thousand copies a 
 week. Adieu, AVONMOEE. 
 
 Dublin, March 1, 1858. 
 
 [It gives us much pleasure to find our efforts appreciated 
 by gentlemen like the one who forwards us this flatter- 
 ing testimonial.] 
 
 University or Notre Dame, ( 
 St. Joseph County, (Ind.) ) 
 March 8th, 1858. 
 Messrs. Editors:— 
 
 Dear Sirs — A few days ago I was in receipt of a copy of 
 your ' Irish Miscellany,' and permit me to congratulate you 
 on your noble and very worthy undertaking; and to wish 
 you that success which so excellent a work merits. 
 
 I regret that I cannot individually participate in the ad- 
 vantage of being one of your subscribers. I will not how- 
 ever, be entirely deprived of the advantages of your Miscel- 
 lany, as a Literary Society, that is under my immediate di- 
 rection, has agreed to subscribe for it, — enclosed be pleas- 
 ed to find 952,00 as their subscription. The name of the 
 Society is ' The St. Aloyius Literary Society,' to whose 
 address you will send it. Please send all the back num- 
 bers. 
 
 And be pleased, gentlemen, to accept my assurance of be- 
 ing a most sincere advocate for your Irish Miscellany, 
 wherever my humble influence may extend. 
 Yours, very respectfully, 
 
 JAMES WILLEY, S. S. C. 
 
 ORIGINAL POETRY. 
 
 Written for the Irish Miscellany. 
 TO THE IRISH IN IRELAND. 
 
 BY DARBY MOKBON. 
 
 Arise! unite! with gallant mein. 
 
 And as swelling tide or rolling thunder 
 Sweep o'er your hills and valleys green. 
 
 And burst the tyrants chains asunder. 
 See! yonder 'neath the eastern skies. 
 
 The glorious rays of freedom gleaming; 
 There hauty Albion's power dies 
 
 Where the gallant Hindoos blood is streaming. 
 See! warlike Gaul in armor bright. 
 
 With long peut vengeance is preparing, 
 With our hated foe to renew the fight, 
 
 Up! brothers up, for our mother Erin. 
 
 Remember liow your martyrs died! 
 
 Whose noble deeds do shine in story; 
 Whose blood that green land sanctified. 
 
 Will you not emulate their glory? 
 
 For centuries of fraud and crime. 
 
 The hour is nigh for retribution ; 
 In God's name siezc the golden time 
 
 To pay the Saxon restitution. 
 Swear to it by your sainted dead, 
 
 No more the tyrant shall enslave you— 
 Hoist up the Green, pull down the Red— 
 
 And/rec Ihe dear land God has giv'n you. 
 
 From our Special Reporter. 
 ST. PATRICK'S DAY IN NEW YORK. 
 
 The 17th of March 1858, will not soon be forgotten 
 by the thousands who participated in the celebration of the 
 liistival of Ireland's patron saint in the metropolis of 
 the the United States. The morning's sun burst upon 
 the sight of anxious thousands with a face beaming with 
 joy, and ijositive assurance that he had driven far into 
 the regions of the north, the dark and lowering clouds 
 which mar the pleasure of out-door celebrations. The ear- 
 ly rail-road trains and steamboats brought into the city 
 crowds of Erin's stalwart sons and daugliters. with pleas- 
 ure beaming from their healthful couiiteiiaijceH, The vol- 
 unteer soldiers were seen at an early hour Imrrviiigto and. 
 from the various rendezvous: and the members' of tliu dif- 
 ferent benevolent societies were rapairing with joyous- 
 hearts and elastic step to their head quarters. Martial 
 strains were heard in every direction, as the different bands 
 of music proceeded to meet the various civic or military or- 
 ganizations. 'Tis indeed a gala-day, and the unmistakable 
 Celtic features whicli crowd the streets, the windows and 
 the bacouies, show that something of importance is expect- 
 ed. The Shamrock — ' the green immortal shamrock' is dis- 
 played on innumerable hats; the hearty shake of the hand, 
 with which friend greets friend, and the never to be forgot- 
 ten ' my I'atrick's pot on you,' tells that it is Ireland's na- 
 tal day— the festival of her glorious Apostle Patrick, whose; 
 memory still lives in the hearts and memories of his faith- 
 ful children, as green as it did thirteen hundred and nine- 
 ty-three years ago, when he departed this life iu the county 
 ofDowu. ^ 
 
 'Tis now eleven o'clock. The various organizations have- 
 taken up the posts assigned them. The marshals and aids, 
 are hurrying on noble steeds, with the orders of the oflicer 
 in command— the gallant and soldier-like gentleman, and 
 able acting oflicer lirigadier Gen. Col. James R. Ryan. The 
 military under his command formed in Canal street, and 
 from there marched to East Broadway, preeeeded by Shel- 
 ton's American Brass Band with a full corps of drummers. 
 The time announced for taking up the line of march has pas- 
 sed. The word is given — the procession moves lorwara iu 
 the following orde.r 
 
 Acting Brigadier General, Col. James R. Eyan. Staff. 
 Band. Ninth Regiment, under command of Lieut. Col. pl 
 D- Kelly. Baud. Sixty-ninth Regiment under command 
 of Lieut. Col. E. Butler. Civic Societies. Grand Mar- 
 shal, Patrick McCoy, assisted by his Aids, Joseph Boyd and 
 Roger McGrath. 1st Division. Marshals, Pcler R. Gayuor 
 and John Tucker, Aids, Michael Gillen, J. Reilly, M. Gor- 
 man and Hugn McManus. Band. Montgomery Volun- 
 teers, Capt. Owen Daley. 2d Division. Band- Emerald. 
 Guard, Capt. John Cox. Sons of '98, Capt John O'Brien. 
 Ancient Order of Hibernians, mustering several thousands 
 with their beautiful silk flags and banners, made a noble ap- 
 pearance. 3d Division. Marshal, Edward McLoughlin. 
 
 Band. Independent Guard. Hibernian Benevolent Socie- 
 ty. 4th Division. Marshal, Hugh O'Reilley. Aid. John 
 Keane. Band. Old Guard, Capt. James F. Markey. Long- 
 shoremen's Union Benevolent Society. 5th Division. Mar- 
 shal, John Dwyer. Band. St. James' Roman Catholic 
 Total Abstinence Society. 6th Division. Marshal, Ross- 
 McGinnis. Aids, Jeremiah Perry and Thomas Cummings. 
 Father Mathew 1 otal Abstinence Benefit Society, proceed- 
 ed down East Broadway and Chatham street, passing in 
 front of the City Hall, was reviewed by his Honor the May- 
 or and Board of Common Council. Passing out through 
 the west gate of the Park, proceeded up^Broadway. On 
 arriving opposite Brady's celebrated Pnotograph Saloon 
 on Broadway, the acting Brigadier Gen. gave woid to 'halt ' 
 which passing down the line brought the procession to a. 
 stand. This was done in order to enable Mr. Brady to. 
 take for the Irish Miscellany, a Photograph of the magnifi- 
 cent demonstration. This being accomplished, but not so 
 clear and distinct as Mr. Brady and his eflicient operatora 
 could desire, owing to the immense crowds which hemmed 
 in the procession, it proceeded forward to 14th Street to 7th 
 Avenue, up 7th Avenue to Twenty-third Street, through 
 Twentty-tliird Street to Broadway, down Broadway, to 
 Fourteenth Street, around tho Statute of Washington, 
 where it was dismissed. 
 
 Our reporter cannot close his report of this magnificent 
 display without expressing his thanks to acting Brigadier 
 General Col. Ryan of the 69th Regiment ; Capt. Lynch of 
 the Emmett Guards; Messrs. Evans and Dugau at Brady's 
 Photographic Saloon, and to our friends who recei\ed 
 us so kindly at the oflices of the Freeman's Journal, the 
 Irish News, and Irish Vindicator. To Mr. Bradv our special 
 thanks are due for his laudable endeavors to carry out our 
 wishes, and for the very faithful manner in which he per- 
 formed his task under many great difliculfies. 
 
 Written for the Irish Miscellany. 
 TO KATE. 
 
 Although by every outward token. 
 The tie would seem forever broken, 
 
 Yet lives within my heart as bright 
 As in the spring time of its life. 
 
 As in the noonday of its light, 
 The hope that thou wilt be my wife. 
 
 That hope, wild storms in vain have tossed, 
 
 Its light, dark clouds in vain have cross'd. 
 Still, at my breast, the fondling nursed, 
 
 Still, on my soul its sunlight smiled— 
 Still, still, thro' every storm that burst 
 
 Clung to my heart love's darling child. 
 
 Child of my love begotten and bred. 
 
 Twill live, twill live, till love is dead; 
 Still from my breast its food will spring 
 
 Still in my soul its sunlight dwell- 
 Still to my heart its fond dreams cling 
 
 Till thou Shalt mend or break the spell. 
 
 That love, this hope, our hearts forever 
 
 One word from thee can bind or sever- 
 Then let me hear thy gentle voice, 
 
 Thy words, thine own, lor thine, thine only 
 Can make this heart again rejoice. 
 
 Or boat thro' life iu sorrow lonely. 
 
 MUSKERRY. 
 
110 
 
 HUSH iMlSCELLANY. 
 
 MISOEIiIiANAB. 
 
 ' Pa, ain't I growinj; tall!' 'Why, wlmt's your 
 height, sonny ! ' ' Why, I'm seven feet, laclciug a 
 jaid.' 
 
 Hnppino.48, it has bcon wisely obscn-oi), is tlio pro- 
 portion of the niimlier of things wliich wo love, and 
 the number of things that love us. 
 
 Nothing casts a denser cloud over the mind than 
 discontent, re ndcring it more occupied nhout the evil 
 that disquiet j it than the means of removing it. 
 
 Court the company of the learned and the conver- 
 sation of the agcdf their discourses is often more use- 
 ful than any book you can read. 
 
 There is a young lady in Lee who carries a parasol 
 because sun is of the masculine gender, and she can- 
 not wiihstanil his anient glances. 
 
 Did you ever hear of the wife that wrote to her Ims- 
 bnnd in California, and commenced the letter thus — 
 ' Oh, tell me not that absccnco conquers love; the 
 longer you stay away the better I like you !' 
 
 Miss Ellbn Conean. — Our talented young coun- 
 trvwoman — ' La Conrani, as she is styled in the Ital- 
 ian papers — continues to win the praises of the Ital- 
 ian critics, and to earn a rapidly rising reputation. 
 After singing during the past year at the great oi^ra 
 house of San Carlo, at Naples, she has now commen- 
 ced an engagement at Catania, in Sicily, the birth- 
 place of Bellini. — 
 
 SiNGULAii Incident. — The Albany Journal says 
 a singular incident connected with death of Ashley, of 
 Trov, is related by those who sat up with him the 
 night previous to bis death. About 4 o'clock in the 
 morning, to the consternation of the whole family, the 
 clock in the room, which had been out of order, and 
 which bad net been running over three months, sud- 
 denly struck ten times! No one appeared near it; 
 neither had anybody touched it in any manner. Ten 
 hours after that Ashley was a corpse ! 
 
 Hogarth and Swift were very absent minded in com- 
 panv. Milton was unsociable, and even irritable when 
 pressed into conversation. Kirwan, though copious 
 and eloquent in public addresses, was meagre and dull 
 in collo«|nial discourse. Chaucer's silence was more 
 agreeable than his conversation. Drydeu's conversa- 
 tion was slow and dull, bis humor saturnine and re- 
 serveil. Fox in conversation never flagged ; his ani- 
 mation and variety were inexhausttblo. Dr. Bcntly 
 was loquacious. Grotius was talkative. Goldsmith 
 wrote Kke an angel, and talked like poor Foil. 
 
 Emigration to the United States. — It is the 
 opinion of parties engaged in the transportation of 
 emigrants, that the exodus from Germany to this conn- 
 tn- will l>e very large this year. The class that will 
 l>c attracted are the well to do farmers, who have been 
 notifiid tlia' now would lie a good time to invest in 
 ■Western lanils, as prices rule lower than they have for 
 viars back owing to the necessities of the land specu- 
 lators, who are compelled to sell largely and at re- 
 duced rates to meet their obligations. This emigra- 
 tion it is supposed, will be one-third larger than 
 usual. 
 
 A pleasant wife is a rainbow in the sky, when her 
 husband's mind is tossed with storms and tempests. 
 
 Thistles, though noxious things' in themselves, arc 
 usually signs of an excelleqt ground whereon they 
 grow : so bashfulncss, though it be a weakness and 
 betrayer of mind, is yet generally an argument of a 
 soul ingenuously and virtuousy inclined. 
 
 Never trust the man whom you have seen able and 
 willing to deceive another; he will deceive you also, 
 should opportunity serve, or interest require it. 
 
 Never mistnist without cause ; but if you have good 
 reason, give up your doubts to neither argument nor 
 appearance ; it is your watchfire, and will let you sec 
 the approach of the enemy. 
 
 A question has been raised in one of our courts 
 whether a blind can be liable for a bill at sight. The 
 lawyers arc puzzled. 
 
 Highland Thieves.— Dugold M'Caul was a pro- 
 fessed thief in the Highlands, and sometimes took 
 young lads into his service lu) apprentices to the same 
 business. AVith one of these hopeful youths, who bad 
 recently engaged with him, he agreed one night to 
 proceed uj>on an excursion ; the apprentice to steal a 
 wether, and Dugald himself to steal kale. It was also 
 agreed that they should, after being in iiossession of 
 their booty, meet in the kirk-yard, where they were 
 pn'tty sure of not being molested, as it got the name 
 of being haunted by a ghost. Dugald, as may well 
 bo supposed, arrived lirst at the place of rendezvous, 
 and, sitting on a gravestone, amused himself until the 
 apprentice should arrive with the wether. In a neigh- 
 boring farm-house, a cripjilcd tailor hap]icncd to be at 
 work, and the conversation having turned upon the 
 story of the kirk-yard being haunted, the tailor boldly 
 censured some youug men present, for not having 
 courage to go and speak to the supposed apparition, 
 adding, that if he bad the use of his limbs, he would 
 have no hesitation in doing so himself. One of the 
 young men, nettled at the tailor's remarks, proposed 
 taking the tailor on his back to the kirk-yard ; and, as 
 the tailor could not well recede from what he had said 
 oft' they went. The moment they entered the kirk- 
 yard, Dugald M'Caul saw them, and lliinking it was 
 the apprentice with a wether on his back, he said in a 
 low tone of voice, as they approached, ' Is he fat V 
 ' Whether he be fat or lean,' cried the young man, 
 ' there ho is to ye ;' and throwing down the tailor, ran 
 ofli' as hard as he could. On entering the farm-house, 
 to his utter astonishment, he found the tailor close at 
 his heels; intense fear having supplied him with the 
 long lost use of his limbs, wliich, it is said, he retained 
 for ever after. 
 
 A Profitable cbe of Time. — Make the most of 
 time. Some have little leisure, but there are sundry 
 expedients, any one of which, if fairly tried, would 
 make that little leisure longer. Most of the men who 
 have died enormously rich acquired their wealth, not 
 in huge windfalls, but liy minute and careful accumu- 
 lations. It was not one vast sum bequeathed to them 
 after another, which overwhelmed them with inevita- 
 ble opulence ; but it was the loose money which most 
 men would lavish away, the little sums which many 
 would not deem worth looking after, the pennies of 
 which you would keep no reckoning — these are the 
 items which, year by year piled up, have reared their 
 pyramid of fortune. From these money-makers let 
 us learn the nobler ' avarice of time.' One of the 
 longest and most elaborate poems of recent times was 
 composed in the streets by a physician in busy prac- 
 tice, during the brief snatches of time when passing 
 from one patient's door to another. And in order to 
 achieve some good work which you have much at 
 heart, you may not be able to secure an entire week, 
 or even an unititerrujitcd dav. But try what j'ou can 
 make of the broken fragments of time. Glean up its 
 golden dnst — those raspings and parings of precious 
 duration, those leavings of days and remnants of lioui-s 
 whii h so many sweep out into the waste of existence. 
 And thus, if you be a miser of moments, if you be 
 a miser of moments, if you be frugal and hoard up odd 
 minutes and half-hours and unexpected holidays, your 
 careful gleanings may eke out a long and useful life, 
 and you may die at last richer in existence than mul- 
 titudes whose time is all their own. The time which 
 some men waste in superfluous slumber, and idle 
 visits, and desultory application, were it all redeemed, 
 would give them wealth of leisure, and enable them to 
 execute undertakings for which they deem o less wor- 
 ried life than theirs essential. When a person says, 
 ' I have no time to improve my mind or do a kind 
 turn to a neighbor,' he may be saying what he thinks, 
 but he should not think what he says , for if he has 
 not got the time already, he may get it by redlining it. 
 
 Lord Brougham, in his address the other day be- 
 fore the Mechanics' Institute at Manchester, Fng., used 
 the following language : — 
 
 ' The first duly of man is to provide for his o>vn in- 
 dependence by his own work, and not either to amuse 
 himself or indulge in any gratification — not even in 
 that more than innocent, most sacred gratification, of 
 assuaging his thirst for knowledge — until he has done 
 his day's work, and done that which it is his bounden 
 duty as well as highest interest to do, work with his 
 own hands fo'' the provision of himself and family. 
 And whiin I talk of working men, I am myself, and 
 have been all my life a working num — and us long as 
 I am blessed with health enough to continue, even at 
 my advanced time of life, I shall continue to labor; 
 and I shall never henceforth any more than I have 
 hitherto done, partake of aiiy relaxation, not even in 
 gratifying my thirst for knowledge, until I have earned 
 the right to do it by having done my day's work. 
 
 There are other rules as to which I would allow no 
 compromise, no middle course whatever, and they are 
 maxims which ought to preside over a man's whole 
 employment of his time. The one is, to do one thing 
 at a time only ; the next is, never to pnt off till to- 
 morrow what you can do to-day ; and the third, al- 
 ways to finish one thing before you begin another. — 
 A very great and most celebrated man in Holland — 
 De Witt — was once asked how it happened that he 
 got through so much business and of such varied kind, 
 for he was not only a great statesman and a minister, 
 but also a most eminent mathematician and a literary 
 man ; and his answer was that it was by two rules 
 which he always observed — to do one thing only at a 
 time, and never put off till to-morrow what he could 
 do to-day. 
 
 Idleness in Woman is cured cither by vanity or 
 love, though in the sprightly it is the symptoms of 
 love. 
 
 When Fenelon was almoner to Louis XIV., his 
 majesty was astonished to find one Sunday, instead of 
 a numerous congregation, only himself and the priest. 
 
 ' What is the reason of this 7' asked the king. 
 
 'I caused it to be given out, sire,' returned Fenelon, 
 ' that your majesty did not attend chapel to-day, that 
 you might know who came to worship God, and who 
 to flatter the king.' 
 
 THE IRISH VINDICATOR, 
 
 A WEEKLY KEWSPAI-EK, 
 
 The Best akd Cheapest Pdblisued in America. 
 
 MOST WONDERFUL SUCCESS, 
 
 and has been pronounced by tlie I'rcss and tfie I'ublic to be 
 
 superior to any other lri^l'l Weekly in tlie United States. 
 
 It contains encli weeJt, tlic very 
 Latest News fkom every County is Ireland ; 
 Original and entei-tuining 
 STORIES AKD ANECDOTES, 
 and a variety ofMipcellancoas Reading matter, of a charac- 
 ter wtiieli canuut Tail to elevate and ctiasteu the fntuf- 
 lectual uppciite. Tlic Irish Viudieutur is devoted 
 TO THE INTERESTS OF IRISHMEN IN AMERICA, 
 and is so cheap as to be within tlie reacli ol'tlie poorest. 
 
 ONLY THREE CENTS A COPY. 
 
 THE FOLLOWIXO ARE THE TERMS 
 
 To any part of tlic United States, for one year, S1.60 
 
 Do. du. |do. lor 8 nionllis, I.UO 
 
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 To any part or Canada or the British I'ruv luces, one year, 
 
 $2,UU — All paynieuts in advauce. 
 
 FO« ADVERTISING, 
 
 12 lines, single iuecrliuu sl.OU I V2 lines, 1 mouth, 82.50 
 
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 Published every weel(, ot the Ollice, No 10 Spruce slreetf 
 
 New York, iiiurcUlJ 
 
 RD DOVVNES CONNEItY & CO. 
 
 N O K T II E R X HOUSE, 
 
 NORTH ByUARE— BOSTON. 
 
 JOHN GLANCY 1'roi'uietob. 
 
 This House has rooms e<|ual to any first class Hotel, and 
 pertnaaeut or t^aIl^iellt lluurders can be uccomniudaled 
 uearly uue ball' cheaper than at any other Hoube in the 
 City. 
 
 In the Reading Room can be found ntl the morning and 
 evening papers, and periodicals of the day. logetlier »ith 
 an extenr.ne Liurarv, lor the tree uud exclusive use of 
 the ROARDERS. 
 
 N. B. StranEers visiting Boston, can always lind this 
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IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
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 POETRY 13 Y THOMAS DA^VIS. 
 
 Ji > •:R_*7.IO'iO. ^_^ 1^^ ^^ j^^ 
 
 1. Tlie mess-tent is full, and the glass -es arc set, And the gal- lant Count 1 ho- mond is Pres - i -dent yet, 
 
 2. "A health to King James," and they bent as they quaff'd," Here's to George the E - lee - /or," and fierce - ly they laugh'd, 
 
 -0-1. 
 
 The 
 'Good 
 
 Vet'-ran a - rose, like an up - lift - ed lance, Cry-ing, "Comrades ! a health to 
 
 luck to the girls we woo'd, long a - go, Where Sionainn,* and Bcarbha.f and Ab • 
 
 mon - arch 
 hain - du - 
 
 of France!" — With 
 bht flow;" "God 
 
 
 fC5-^ •-^-•. -J sA-m ^•- 
 
 
 
 
 a!?ia^?E±E: 
 
 :=ii: 
 
 i' 
 
 " But, surely, that light cannot come fi-om nur lamp? 
 And that noise — are they all getting drunk in the camp ? " 
 " Hurrah ! boys, the morning of battle is come, 
 And the generate s beating on many a drum " 
 So they rush from the revel to join tlie parade ; 
 For the van is the right of The Irish Brigade. 
 
 They fought as they revell'd, fast, fieiy, and true. 
 And, thougli victors, they left on the field not a few ; 
 And they, who surviv'd, fought and drank as of yore, 
 But the land of their heart's hope they neven saw more, 
 For in far foreign fields, from Dunkirk to Belgrade, 
 Lie the soldiers and chiefs of The Irish Brigade. 
 
 } Arondhu or Black-water. 
 
VOLUME L— NUMBER g- ] 
 
 BOSTON, SATURDAY, APRIL 3, 1858, 
 
 [ PRICE FOUR CENTS. 
 
 KILMALLOCK. 
 
 A few years since, Kilmallock presented to a re- 
 flecting and imaginitative mind, a scene of singular 
 and we might add, intensely romantic interest — 
 that of a noble town, walled, turreted and filled 
 with stately monasteries, castles and houses of cut 
 stone, all ruined, silent and deserted ; some 
 wretched peasants had indeed here and there taken 
 up thcis residence in the corner of a tower or man- 
 sion, which, like a solitary figure in a mountain 
 scene, only added to the offset of sadness and des- 
 
 olation. It was at this period that the accompany- 
 ing sketch was made. Kilmallock has since as- 
 sumed a different ospect : it has become again a 
 scene of life and animation, and though it has lost 
 much of its poetic and pictosial interest, it will 
 give greater pleasure to the eye of the philanthro- 
 pist. 
 
 Kilmallock has been a place of some distinction 
 from a very remote period, and like most of our an- 
 cient towns, is of ecclesiastic origin, a monastery 
 having been founded here bj' St. Maloch in the 6th 
 
 century, of which the original round tower still re- 
 mains. It is said to have been a walled town even 
 before the arrival of the Anglo Normans, but at 
 all events it became a place of great strength and 
 celebrity under the Desmond branch of the Gerald- 
 ines, and ranked as their chief town. Much, how- 
 ever, of its present ruined magnificence is of a pe- 
 riod subsequent to the fall of that great family, as 
 jthe majority of the houses are of the reign of the 
 list James, and none of them earlier than that of 
 lElizabeth, when stone mansions first came into uso 
 
 in the chief towns in Ireland. Many of the castles 
 and the gates, and the surrounding walls, are how- 
 ever connected with the Gcraldine power. 
 
 Kilmallock has been designated 'the Irish Bal- 
 bec' by Dr. Campbell, a writer of considerable 
 learning and some imagination; and this high 
 sounding epithet is not undeserved, if properly un- 
 derstood as applj-ing only to a great assemblage of 
 Irish ruins, as their magnificence will of course 
 bear but little comparison with those of the East- 
 em city. These consist at present, chiefly of a 
 street of stone built houses, frcequently of three 
 
 KILMALLOCK. 
 
 tories in height, and ha\'ing windows and door- 
 ways of cut stone; the fonncr have stone sashes 
 
 ailed by architects nuiUions, and label mouldings, 
 and the latter are usually arched. Thest houses 
 have also, curious and grotesque spouts, and above 
 the first story, frequently an ornamented architrave, 
 in this style: 
 
 ^^^— J?t f>_ 
 
 There were anciently four great entrance gateways 
 
 of lofty and imposing character, of which two still 
 remain; and there are also some smaller towers re- 
 maining in the surrounding town walls. Outside 
 the town, and on the banks of the beautiful stream 
 called the Cammouge, stand the ruijis of two truly 
 splendid monasnerics, in which there are several 
 curious and interesting sepulchral monuments: of 
 these we shall give our readers a view and descrip- 
 tion in a future number, togetlier with an account 
 of the last chiefs of the Desmonds, the ancient 
 lords of the place, with whose history Kilmallock 
 3 so intimatelv connected. 
 
114 
 
 IHlSll MISCELLANY. 
 
 KilDiBllo«k hn* bocn in a state of desolation and 
 Sacay since the time of tlie usurper Cromwell, 
 when it was dismantled and othei-wisc greatly in- 
 jured bv the parliamentary anny. The recent re- 
 turn of population is fast hastening the devasta- 
 tions of time, and, excepting Its ecclesiastical re- 
 mains, in ft few years it will have but little vestaKcs 
 of its firmer splendor. Antiquarians as wc arc, 
 however, we shall rcRret this change but little, if it ' 
 bring industry, wealth, and peace to a spot that ■ 
 has been for n long period the dreary abode of ' 
 wretchedness and want. Of its sufferings during 
 the year IB 17, when typhus fever raged so fright- 
 fullv in the South of Ireland, take the following 
 anecdote from the interesting to>ir of the unfortu- 
 nate J. B. Trotter — the truth of the circumstances 
 here detailed may be relied on; — 
 
 'Tn one part of the ruins, where a fine arched 
 Bidc-aislc » as still very perfect, my guide showed 
 some tciTor; I soon learned from him the cause. 
 A person ill of fever, had been left there the day 
 before, lest he should communicate the infection to 
 the family where he lodged. lie was left to expire! 
 His hollow voice plaintively implored some drink 
 I assured him he should have it, and be taken care 
 of, and hope revived at the moment life was ebbing 
 fast away. In another part of this monastery I 
 saw a hat of a departed victim of fever exposed 
 some time ago, and at our inn I heard the following 
 
 gtory: An American gentleman, totally a stranger, 
 
 ■n-ell cUd and of pleasing appearance, came a few 
 months ago to Kilmallock. He went to no inn, 
 but wandered about the ruins, till at last entering 
 them he was observed no more, and perhaps forgot- 
 ten! He was ill, and fever burned in his veins; 
 but where can a pennylcss and forlorn -wanderer 
 turn in a country where he is -svithout friends and 
 money? It happened that a gentleman was ill in 
 the inn, and required the attendance of a person to 
 sit up every night. The inn-keeper's son performed 
 this humane office frequently; and ven,- early one 
 morning, as the stars were fading at the approach 
 of twilight, he walked out to the monastcrj- to re- 
 fresh himself with the morning air ; he heard a 
 murmuring noise as of some human being. It was 
 two or three days after the American gentleman's 
 disappearance. He recollected this, and advanced, 
 but can I go on? Extended on his back in a recess 
 of a ruined aisle, the unfortunate stranger lay 
 speechless and expiring! one hand clenched the 
 mouldering wall, the other his hat. The young 
 man terrified and shocked, ran for assistance. On 
 his return this victim of misfortune was no more! 
 Fever had aiTCsted his steps.' 
 
 AVe shall only add a hope that no future travel- 
 ler may ever have it in his power to record such in- 
 stances of wTetchedness and inhumanity of Kil- 
 mallock. 
 
 A PEASANT CIRL'S LOVE. 
 
 BY Tlir, .lUTllOB OF TUE o'lIAR.V TALES. 
 
 The county assizes had commenced iji ray native , 
 town, when a new batch of Irish tithe arrangers 
 were brought in prisoners by a strong party of po- 
 lice. They had attacked only the previous evening 
 a gentleman's house, for the purpose of rifling it of 
 arms — had been repulsed by the police, who, aware 
 of their intentions, lay in ambush for them, and 
 lives were lost on both sides. I was idling on one 
 of the bridges, when they passed by to jail, bound 
 with ropes and with buckles to the common ears of 
 the country — some of them were wounded too, a 
 brow, or hand, or clothing giving vivid evidence of 
 the fact. 
 
 But although the general impression made by the 
 •«hole of the wretched groups was painful, one face 
 among them strongly interested me. It was that of 
 a young man, not more than nineteen or twenty; 
 his features were comely, and I would have it, full 
 of goodness and gentleness. His clear blue eye too 
 
 was neither sulky, nor aaTage, nor reckless, but 
 seemed to express only great awe of his situation, 
 unless when, from some sudden mental recurrence 
 to home — perhaps it quailed or became suffused 
 with tears. I involuntarily followed the milan- 
 eholy procession towards the jail, thinking of that 
 young man. After all the prisoners had been ush- 
 ered into their new abode, a popular anti-tithe at- 
 torney, whom I knew, accosted me. lie was al- 
 ways ready to conduct, gratis, the defence of poor 
 wretches similarly situated, and he told me his in- 
 tention of going into the jail that moment, to tr)' 
 and collect materials for saving the lives, at least, of 
 some of the new comers. I expressed a wish to as- 
 sist him in his task: he readily consented, observ- 
 ing that as the unfortunate men would certainly be 
 put on their trial the next day, no offer of aid in 
 their favor, was to be disregarded; so we entered 
 the jail together. 
 
 It fell to my lot to visit the cell among others, of 
 the lad who had so much interested me. Ilis as- 
 sertions, supported, or not contradicted by most of 
 his band, seemed to argue that I had not fonned a 
 wrong opinion of his character — nay, better still, 
 that there was a good chance of snatcliing from the 
 gallows, even though he must leave his native land 
 for ever. He had been forced, he said, to accom- 
 pany the others upon their fatal sortie — had never 
 been 'out' before — and had not pulled a trigger or 
 raised a hand against the police; his more guilty as- 
 sociates supported, or else did not contravlne his 
 statement. So, confident that the police would al- 
 so bear him out at the really critical moment, I took 
 notes of his defence for my fi-iend the attorney, and 
 passed on to other cells, but of the results of my 
 continued investigation, I will not now speak. 
 
 The sagacious attorney was right. By twelve 
 o'clock next day, four of the men, including my 
 favorite client, were placed at the bar of their 
 country: three others were too ill of their wounds 
 to be at present produced. All was soon over — 
 and over to my aflliction and ahnost consternation. 
 Instead of swearing that the young man had been 
 comparatively forbearing during the battle outside 
 the gentleman's house, the police, one and all, from 
 some strange mistake — for surely they thought 
 they were in the right, distinctly deposed that his 
 was the hand which slow one of their force, and 
 badly wounded another. In vain did he protest 
 with the energy of a young man pleading for dear 
 dear life, and all its array of happy promise, 
 against their evidence; in vain did his fellow pris- 
 oners support him; he and they were found guilty 
 in common: but his fate was the terrific one — of 
 him the example was to be made; and while the 
 other men were only sentenced to transportation 
 for life, he was doomed to be hanged by the neck 
 within forty-eight hours, and his body given for 
 dissection. 
 
 As the Judge ushered in the last words of his 
 sentence, a shriek, I shall never forget it — a wo- 
 man's shriek — and a young woman's too, pierced 
 up to the roof of the silent court-house, and then I 
 heard a heavy fall. The young culprit had been 
 trembling and Bwa)-ing from side to side, during 
 his sentence; at the soul thrilling sound he started 
 into upright and perfect energy; his hands which 
 had grasped the dock, were clapped together with a 
 loud noise; the blood mounted to his very fore- 
 head; his lips parted widely, and, having almost 
 shouted out — -Moya! its she! I knew she'd be 
 here!" he suddenly made a spring to clear the back 
 of the dock — obviously no impulse to escape dicta- 
 ted the action; he wanted to raise Moya — his be- 
 trothed Moya — from the floor of the court-house, 
 and clasp her in his arms — and that was all. And, 
 doubtless, in his \-igorous and thrice nerv-cd strength 
 he must have succeeded in his wild attempt, but 
 that the sleeve of one arm, and the hand of the 
 other became impaled on the sharp iron spikes 
 
 whiph Rurmounted the formidable barrier before 
 him. Thus cruelly impeded, however, he was easi- 
 ly secured, and instantly led down through a trap 
 door in the bottom of the dock, to his 'condemned 
 cell,' continuing till his voice was lost in the depths 
 beneath us, to call out, 'Moya, cui.'<hla-nia-chree, 
 Moya!' 
 
 I hastened, with many others, into the body of 
 the court, and there learned from h<T father and 
 mother, and other friends, the connection between 
 her and the sentenced lad. They were to have been 
 married at Easter. This did not lessen my interest 
 in him — my attorney joined me, and wc spoke of all 
 possible efforts to obtain a commutation of his sen- 
 tence, after Moya's parents had forced her out of 
 the court-house, on the way to their home, rejecting 
 all her entreaties to be led into the jail and — 
 married. 
 
 AVe thought of hearing what the wounded po- 
 liceman might say. But he was fourteen miles dis- 
 tant, where the affray had occurred, and, even 
 though his evidence might be favorable, wc knew 
 we must be prepared to forward it to Dublin, as 
 the Judge would leave our tow n that day. AVe set 
 to work, however, mounted two good horses, and 
 within three hours learned from the lips of the 
 wounded man that the llockite who had fired at 
 him was an elderly and ill-favored fellow. It was 
 our next business to convey our new evidence into 
 the town; we did so, in a carriage borrowed from 
 the person whose house had been attacked. He 
 was confronted with all the prisoners; wc caution- 
 ed him to say nothing that might give a false hope 
 to the object of our interest: — but, after leaving the 
 cell, he persisted in exculpating him from having 
 cither killed his comrade or wounded himself, and, 
 moreover, pointed out the real culprit among those 
 who had not yet been put on their trial. 
 
 This was a good beginning. An affidavit was 
 soon prepared, which tlic jioliceman signed. A few 
 minutes afterwards the attorney, helped in his ex- 
 penses for the road by some friends, myself among 
 the number, started for Dublin, as fast as four 
 horses could gallop. Ten hours, out of the forty- 
 eight allowed to the condemned to prepare for 
 death, had already elapsed. Our good attorney 
 must now do the best he could within thirty-seven 
 hours — it was fearful not to leave an hour to spare 
 — to calculate time when it would just be merging 
 into eternity. But we had good hopes. If horses 
 did not fail on the road, going and returning, and 
 if the Judge, and after him, the Lord Lieutenant, 
 could be rapidly approached, it was a thing to be 
 done. That 'if however! — I scarce slept a wink 
 through the night. Next morning early I called 
 on the clergj-man whose sad duty it was to visit the 
 poor lad in his condemned cell; he and I had been 
 school fellows; and he was a young man of most 
 amiable character. He told me his 'poor penitent' 
 was not unfit to die, nor did he dread the fate be- 
 fore him, notwithstanding his utter anguish of 
 heart at so terrible a parting from his young mis- 
 tress. I communicated the hopes we had, and 
 asked the clergjTnan's opinion as to the propriety 
 of alleviating the lad's agony by a slight imparta- 
 tion of them. My reverend young friend would not 
 hear of such a thing ; his conscience did not per- 
 mit him. It was his duty, he said, his sacred duty, 
 to allow nothing to distract the mind and heart of 
 his penitent from resignation to his lot ; and should 
 he give liim a hope of life, and then see that hope 
 dashed, he would have helped to kill a human soul, 
 not to save one. I gave up the point, and endeav- 
 ored to seek occupations and amusements to turn 
 my thoughts from the one subject which absorbed 
 and fevered them. But in vain, and when night 
 came, I had less sleep than on the first. 
 
 Early on the second morning I took a walk into 
 the country, along the Dublin road, vaguely hop- 
 ing to meet, even so early, our zealous attorney 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 115 
 
 returning to us, with a white handkerchief stream- 
 ing from the window of his post-chaise ; that idea 
 had got into my head, like a picture and would 
 recur every moment. I met him not. I lingered 
 on the road. I heard our town clock pealing 
 twelve — the boy had but an hour to live. I looked 
 towards the county jail, whither he had been re- 
 moved for execution — the black flag was waving 
 over its drop-door. Glancing once more along the 
 Dublin road, I ran as fast as I could towards the 
 jail. Anived at the iron gate of its outer yard, I 
 was scarce conscious of the multitude who sat on a 
 height, confronting it, all hushed and silent, or of 
 the strong guard of soldiers at the gate, till one of 
 them refused me way. I bribed the serjeant to 
 convey my name to the governor of the prison, and 
 was admitted, first, into the outer j'ard, then by 
 the guard-room door, and along a colonnade of 
 pillars, connected with iron work at either hand, 
 into the inner room, and both formed a building in 
 themselves, separated from the main pile ; the col- 
 onnade of which I have spoken, leading from one 
 to the other. AVhat had sent me where I now 
 found myself, was an impulse to beseech the sheriff, 
 (whom I knew, and who was necessarily in the jail 
 to accompany the condemned to the door of the 
 execution room,) for some short postponement of 
 the fatal moment. He came out to me, in one of 
 the courts at either side of the colonnade ; we spoke 
 in whispers, as the good and kind-hearted governor 
 had done — though there was not a creature to over- 
 hear us, in the deserted and sunny spaces all 
 around. I knew the sheriff would at his peril make 
 any change in the hour ; but 1 told him our case, 
 and his eyes brightened with zeal and benevolence, 
 ■whUe he put back his watch three quarters of an 
 hour, and asseverated with my uncle Toby's oath, I 
 believe, that he would swear it was right, and that 
 all their clocks were wrong, and ' let them hang 
 himself for his mistake.' Our point arranged, we 
 sunk into silence. It was impossible to go on talk- 
 ing, even in our conscious whispers, one o'clock 
 soon struck ! The governor, pale and agitated, ap- 
 peared, making a sad signal to the sheriff. We 
 beckoned him over to us, and he was shown the 
 infallible watch, and retired again, without a word. 
 My friend and I continued standing side by side in 
 resumed silence. And all was silence around us 
 too, save some few most melancholy, most appal- 
 ling sounds : one caused by the step of a sentinel 
 ■under the window of the condemned cell, at an 
 ! unseen side of the prison ; another by the audible 
 I murmurings of the condemned and his priest, heard 
 1 through that window — both growing more fervent 
 i in prayer since the jail clock had pealed one; and 
 I a third was made by some person, also unseeu, 
 1 striking a single stroke with a wooden mallet, about 
 i everj' half minnte, upon a large muffled bell at the 
 I top of the prison. Yes, — I can recall two other 
 ! sounds which irritated me greatly: the chirping of 
 sparrows in the sun — and I thought that their usual 
 pert note was now strangely sad — and the tick, tick 
 of the sheriffs watch, which I heard distinctly in 
 his fob. The minutes flew. I felt pained in the 
 throat — burning with thirst — and losing my pres- 
 ence of mind. The governor appeared again. My 
 friend entered the prison with him. I remained 
 alone, confused and agonized. In a few minutes 
 tlic- governor came out, bareheaded, and tears on 
 his cheeks. The clergyman and his penitent fol- 
 d, the former had passed an arm through one 
 manacled ones of the latter, and the hands of 
 . « ere clasped, and both were praying audibly 
 \I\ old school-fellow wept like a chUd. My poor 
 ' lit liad passed the threshold into the colonnade, 
 1 firm step, his knees kept peculiarly stiff, as 
 ned along, and his cheeks and forehead were 
 .viIlI, while his eye widened and beamed, and was 
 ' ' i.\ed on the steps going up to the execution-room, 
 itiaight on before him. lie did not see me gazing 
 
 at him. As the sheriff appeared behind him and 
 his priest, also bare-headed, I rapidly snatched my 
 hat from ray head. The action attracted his atten- 
 tion, our glances met — and oh ! how the flush in- 
 stantly forsook his forehead and cheeks — and how 
 his eyes closed — while cold perspiration burst out 
 on his brow, and he started, stopped, and faltered ! 
 Did he recognise me as the person who had spoken 
 kindly to him in his cell, before his trial, and per- 
 haps with all my precaution, given him a vague 
 hope ? or %vas it that the unexpected appearance of 
 a human creature, staring at him in utter commis- 
 eration, in that otherwise lonely court-yard, had 
 touched the chord of human associations, and 
 called him back to earth, out of his enthusiastic 
 vision of heaven? I know not. I cannot even 
 guess; who can ? As he faltered, the young priest 
 passed his arm round his body, and gently urged 
 him to his knees, and knelt •\\'ith him, kissing his 
 cheeks, his lips, pressing his hands, and in tender 
 whispers manning him again for facing shame, and 
 death, and eternity. The governor, the sheriff, and 
 I, instinctively assumed the attitude of prayer at 
 the same moment. But I hate to give a character 
 of clap-trap to a real though wonderful occurrence, 
 by continuing too circumstantially. Moya's ' own 
 boy' never even mounted the steps of the execu- 
 tion-room. We were first startled, while we all 
 knelt, — by, as it afterwards proved — her shrieks at 
 the outer gates: she had escaped from the restraint 
 of her family, and had come to the jail, insisting on 
 being married to him ' wid the rope itself round his 
 neck, to live a widow for him forever' — and next 
 there was a glorious shout from the multitude on 
 the rural heights before the prison and my one 
 ceaseless idea of our attorney, with a white hand- 
 kerchief streaming through the window of his post- 
 chaise was realized, though every one saw it but I. 
 And Moya, self-transported for life, went out to 
 Van Dieraan's land, some weeks afterwards, a hap- 
 py and contented wife, her family having yielded to 
 her wishes at the instance of more advocates than 
 herself, and put some money in her purse. — [Athe- 
 
 IRISH IMPROVEMENTS. 
 
 The following account of Lord Headly's estate and 
 improvements, is extracted from a pamphlet by his 
 agent, Mr. J. Wiggens, an English gentleman, entitled 
 ' Hints to Irish Landlords,' &c. &c., published in 1822. 
 'The estate of GIenbegh,or Glenof the Begii.orBirch- 
 en river, is situated at the entrance of tne Ivera moun- 
 tains, an extremely wild district on the shores of the 
 bay of Castlemain, and on the extreme sonth-wcstem 
 coast of Ireland. It consists of about 15,000 acres, 
 much of which is rocky, boggy, and mountain ground. 
 Steep and rugged mountains surround the estate in the 
 form of an ampitheatre, except towards the sea; along 
 the shores of which a Une of hills extends. Thus a 
 sheltered vale is formed, through which the little river 
 Begh takes the whole of its rapid course from its sources 
 in the mountain lakes to the sea. 
 
 This situation is romantic and picturesque, but its 
 generrl aspect is wild and savage, and certainly, is tlie 
 year 1807, presented as unpromising a subject for im- 
 provement as could well be imagined: and such was 
 the character of die inhabitants for ferocity, that every 
 character dreaded attack, and assumed a posture of 
 defence as he made hia way between the river and a 
 frowning clitT, which overhangs it, then the only pass 
 into the extensive districts to the west. 
 
 The Glen was, at that time, supposed to be a saf 
 retreat to every offender who fled from justice — for 
 there all pursuit terminated. The inhahitants allowed 
 no person to be conducted through it as a prisoner.and 
 it was their boast that none were ever punished who 
 had taken refuge in its fastnesses. 
 
 They were looked upon by the rest of the coimtry 
 as savage, and treated as people amongst whom there 
 was no security but in superior force. This feeling 
 was far from being softened on those melancholy oc- 
 casions when shipwrecks o::currcd on the coa.st, dur" 
 
 ing which, nothing but an armed force could prevent 
 every vestige ol' the property being plundered by those 
 and the neighboring people. As to taxes, cesses, and 
 other public dues, it may be imagined, that the people 
 lived nearly free from these imposts, for the king's 
 hearth money was abandoned, because of the difficulty 
 attending its collection, although the oflicers appointed 
 to that duty were supported by troops. 
 
 The habitation of these mountaineers were the 
 lowest order of huts, scarcely affording room to the 
 inmates, and quite inadequate to the purpose of sheU 
 ter. The people were miserably clothed and badly 
 fed; the scanty potato-crop was often from necessity 
 shared with the cows, who must have otherwise 
 starved for want of other provisions. Muderons 
 ciuarrels were not unfreqaent, often arising out of part- 
 nership of tenancy, and that none of the usual evils 
 might be wanted, letting by the customary mode of 
 canting had created enormous disproportion between 
 the rents and the value of the lands, some of these 
 rents being absurdly high and others ridicuously low. 
 To these people the bare idea of labor was offensive, 
 and work was considered as slavery. They were, 
 however, a remarkably robust, active, and enterpris- 
 ing race of men, hospitable and obliging to those who 
 asked their assistance or courtesy. Many of them 
 possessed almost chivalrous ideas of courage, of an- 
 cestry, and of adventure, and exhibited symptoms of 
 acuteness and intelligence, and a remarkable fondness 
 for legal •subtleties and historical tradition. Such 
 were the people of that country, when Lord Headly, 
 having recently come of age, for the first time visited 
 this portion of the extensive family estate in Ireland. 
 His lordship at once saw the deplorable state of those 
 people, which was chiefly owing to a long course of 
 neglect, he resolved, therefore, to cultivate their good 
 qualities without being at first very eager to punish 
 their bad ones; these he wished to subdue by the 
 progress of improvement, so that the culture of the 
 people might keep pace with that of the soil; and he 
 has succeeded in establishing within eighteen years, a 
 degree of improvement and civilization, which, with- 
 out those efforts must have required a century." 
 
 POPULATION OF IRELAND. 
 
 The following statement is taken from ' A Practi- 
 cal View of Ireland,' by James Butler Bryan, Esq., 
 Barrister at Law: 
 
 ' I presume the population of Ireland to be about 
 eight millions, and from the annexed table it will be 
 inferred, that on an average hitherto, Ireland has 
 doubled her population in about si.xiy-thiee years. 
 According to Mr. M'Culloch, the population of Scot- 
 land in 1700, amounted to 1,0.')0,000; in 1820 to 
 2,135,000. thus taking 120 years to double. He like- 
 wise asserts that the population in England in 1700, 
 was 5,475,000, in l.'^lKitwas 10,488,000, requiring 
 about 107 years to double. According to Mr. Ma- 
 thieu, the population of France would take 111 years 
 to double at its present rate. The King of Sweden 
 says that Sweden has added more than a sixth to her 
 population in twenty years, thus doubling in less than 
 120 vears. 
 
 ' We may perceive from Von Malchus's account of 
 the population of Europe, that Ireland has only seven 
 Earopean Stales her superiors, and eighteen her infe- 
 riors in this respect, and in point of superficial extent 
 of territory, she has but ten states her .'superiors, and 
 fifteen inferior to her. The seven united provinces of 
 HolUnd, which have so frequently struck the scale in 
 the balance of power in Europe, do not exceed in 
 extent or population, Ulster, the fourth province of 
 Ireland. 
 
 A Table of the progress of the population in Ire- 
 land : 
 
 1.100,000 
 
 1,320,000 
 
 1672, .Sir W. Petty, 
 
 The same corrected, 
 
 1095, Captain Soutli, 
 1712, Tlionias Dobbs, - 
 1718. 'I'lie pame, 
 
 1725, Tlie same, 
 
 1726, Tlie same, 
 
 1731, F.RtabliKhcd Cler(rv, 
 
 1754. Hearth money collectors, 
 
 1767. Tlic same, 
 
 1777, Tlie same, 
 
 1785, The Fame. 
 
 1788, G. P. Bush, 
 
 17»1, Hearth money collectors, 
 
 1792, Kev. l)r. Beaufort, - 
 
 1805, Tliomas Newcnhnm, 
 
 1814, Incomplete ceucus, - 
 
 1821, Cencu6,55Geo. Ill, c.120, 
 
 18.31, 
 
 1»41, .... 
 
 1851, 
 
 1.0.34.102 
 
 - 2:099,004 
 2.109.048 
 
 . 2,.317,374 
 2.3119,106 
 2.010,221 
 2..372,634 
 
 - 2,644.270 
 2.690,560 
 
 . 2,845.932 
 4.040.000 
 
 - 4.206,612 
 4.086.226 
 
 - 6.395.456 
 6.937,856 
 
 . 6,801,827 
 7,767,401 
 
 . 8.175,124 
 6,.551,970 
 
316 
 
 H:iSll illSCELLANV. 
 
 A' 
 
 ANCIENT MONUMENT, 
 IN THK iiosriT.vi. iiEi.ns, DrnUN'. 
 
 Our mptropolitan readers need hardly be inform- 
 ed that the burial ground adjoining the Royal Hos- 
 pital, vulgarly known by the name qf 'Bully's 
 Acre,' is probably the most extensive cemetery in 
 the British empire. It has been for some ages the 
 last home of the poor inhabitants of Dublin, and 
 will long be remembered in our future annals, in 
 conneetion with the frightful pestilence, which we 
 humbly triist is now about to cease its devastations, 
 for the awful number of its victims which were de- 
 posited here within the last few months. 
 
 It may not be, however, so generally known, that 
 this cemetery, though now exclusively allotted to 
 those whose fate in life has been unhappy, as if 
 even in death the rich disdained to comingle, was 
 once the chief burial place of the proudest class of 
 men that perhaps ever tigured in the great drama of 
 human existence — the Knight's of St. John of Je- 
 rusalem. Their establishment or hospital at Kil- 
 mainham, which was their chiet seat in Ireland, 
 was considered to be the oldest pile of architecture 
 in the kingdom, and their possessions were as vast 
 as their ambition was boundless. Of the former 
 there are no remains; in an age but little remarka- 
 ble for good taste, it was destroyed to erect on its 
 site that less beautiful but perhaps more useful 
 structure, the Koyal Hospital for invalids! and of 
 the latter the citizens of Dublin are aUowod to en- 
 joy a considerable portion — tlie Phoenix Park — as a 
 place of pleasant and healtliful recreation — and a 
 nobler and more beautiful spot for this purpose is 
 not possessed by any city in Europe. It is our in- 
 tention in future nuTubers to make both of those 
 places the subjects of descriptive sketches — but our 
 present object lies with the ancient cemetery. Be- 
 fore even the establishment of the Knights at Kil- 
 mainham, this burial place belonged to a monastery 
 founded in the sixth or seventh century by St. 
 Magnen, from whom it received its name. In a 
 place so ancient therefore, and so appropriated to 
 the noble dead, we might naturally expect to (ind 
 many interesting ancient monumental remains, but 
 in this we are disappointed — one tomb alone, that 
 of which we have prefixed a sketch, has survived 
 the destroying hand of time, preserved as it would 
 appear, by some traditional veneration that was at- 
 tached to it. In fact it has been, and is still popu- 
 larly supposed to be the tomb of the great and fa- 
 vorite Ilero of our early history — that warrior 
 Prince who died for his country in the arms of vic- 
 torj- at the battle of Clontarf. Tradition has how- 
 ever, in this, partly erred, for according to all our 
 ancient historic authorities, the body of Biian was 
 conveyed with great honor and ceremony to the 
 Cathedral Church of Armagh, and there interred 
 
 But it nppcan from the same sources that others of 
 the Irish princes slain in that great battle were re- 
 ally buried at Kilmainlmm, and that this monu- 
 ment was erected to mark the place of their inter- 
 nu-nt. The chief of these was the Prince Mur- 
 rough, the son of Brian, who, according to tlie 
 .\Iunster book of battles, by Macl.aig, was buried 
 at the west end of the Chapel with a long stone 
 standing on one end of his tomb, on which his 
 name was written. Of this inscription there are 
 now no legible traces; the stone being n coarse 
 grained granite, and unfavorable to its preservation; 
 and even the true lover's knot, represented in our 
 sketch, is only to be traced when thrown into a fa- 
 vorable light by the noon day sun; at other times, it 
 would not attract attention. This knot was in those 
 times, a symbol of eternity, aud it does not occur, at 
 least in this form, at an earlier age than the eleventh 
 century, nor docs the style of its sculpture indicate a 
 later one. There can be little doubt therefore, that 
 this cross, for siu'h it was in its perfect state, was 
 either the monimient of Murrough, or of his son 
 Turlough, who was slain in the same battle; and 
 other circumstances corroborate this conclusion. 
 About forty years ago, having fallen from its pedes- 
 tal, it was again set up, on which occasion a number 
 of coins of the Danish kings — the only minted money 
 then generally in use — were found at its base; and 
 with them a fine sword of the same period, which 
 perhaps we are justified in calling the sword of 
 Murrough O'Brian — it belonged at all events, to one 
 of his compatriots: 
 
 This sword was deposited with the then commander 
 of the forces, who had it placed in the hall belonging 
 to his apartments, where it still remains, a highly 
 interesting though hitherto unnoticed memorial. 
 
 The monument at Kilmainham has, at least with 
 the multitude, acquired an aditional interest and ce- 
 lebrity, as the sepulchral monument of another he- 
 ro, who equally fought for the honor and renown of 
 his country, and who perhaps deserved his glory as 
 well as any of his more illustrious predecessors, for 
 man is the same at all times, and a hero is but a hero 
 still. After a lapse of more than eight hundred 
 years, the tomb of Murroiigb received the mortal 
 remains of Dan Dannellyl and the victor of Clon- 
 tarf and the victor of Kildare; the Pride of the 
 jVristocracy and Idol of the People, sleep in the same 
 grave. W'c shall not easily forget the enthusiastic 
 admiration which we saw expressed for Sir Daniel 
 by his numerous admirers on the occasion of his 
 victories — those who love popularity might well en- 
 vy it. AVe remember weU his triumphal entry into 
 Dublin after his great battle on the Curragh. That 
 indeed was an ovation. He was borne on the 
 shoulders of the people, his mother like a Koman 
 matron, leading the van in the procession, and with 
 all^the pride of a second Aggripina, she frequently 
 slapped her naked bosom, exposed for the occasion 
 and exultingly exclaimed, 'there's the breast that 
 suck'd him — there's the breast that suck'd him! ! !' 
 Was the pride of a mother ever more admirably ex- 
 pressed! 
 
 Nor shall we soon forget the simple and pathetic 
 lament of his friend Dr. Bronnan on his death — or 
 its superiority in terseness and effect to that amplifi- 
 cation of the same sentiment by our own poet 
 Moore, on the death of Pitt and Fox: — 
 
 ' \Vr are fnlk'n on gloomy days — 
 Star aUcr star decays,' &c. 
 
 ITie words of Brennan, uttered with a sigh, 
 
 were: — 
 
 'Oh blood nnd wliat lins tlie world come to ; Knpo- 
 
 Icou is dead— aud tbcy have buried Dan Uouuelly!' 
 
 THE VAULTS OF ST. MICHAN'S, DUBLIN. 
 
 To the Editor of the Dublin Penny Journal : — Sir. 
 It is not easy after all for an idle man — a perfectly idle 
 man — to kill his time, and riil liiiuself of a long sum- 
 mer's day comfortably in Diililiii. Curiosity itself, 
 even tlioiigli it jiass that of women, and ho greedy 
 enough to feed on anything, and everything, linds out 
 at length there is a famine in the land, and feels itself 
 woefully in want. In this stale I was some lime ago 
 — all the ' lions ' ol Dniilinhad heen viiited — its plaics 
 of amusements all enjoyed — its museums all admired 
 — its promenades all strolled — moreover the lihrariea 
 were all clo.-cd — the courts of law all vacated — and 
 what was I to do ? Go to the country ! — that I could 
 not do, for reasons best known to those whom it may 
 immediately concern. ' It's a shocking thing to he an 
 idler,' says I to myself, ' what shall I do, or where shall 
 I go ? I wish I was a tailor, or a nailor, or a juilor, or 
 something that would keep me employed ! I can't en- 
 dure this lazy life.' 'Plase ycr honor,' said the news- 
 man who was waiting in the hall until I had conned 
 over the last line of the advertisement, in the last page 
 of the Saunders Newsletter, and who doubtless took a 
 benevolent interest in my condition, ' maybe amongst 
 all the 'quare ' things in Dul)lin, ye have never seen 
 the vaults under St. Michan's Church, where the dead 
 bodies lie as sound and as sweet as a nut, and where 
 thim that were buried hundreds o' years ago, are laid 
 out as clean and purty and dacent as the night they 
 were waked.' 'And can I get into these vaults?' 
 ' To be sure, you can, your honoi, there's nothing 
 easier than to go to the sexton, a mighty civil fellow, 
 and he'll get you a candle and shew you the place, 
 with a thousand welcomes.' I believe 1 could have 
 kissed the newsman — he had given me a piece of ncwg 
 that was as a balm to my idle spirit; and so starling 
 off for a friend who knowsnola little about the antiqui- 
 ties of Ireland, and something about Dublin too, I 
 luckily found him at home, and we proceeded together 
 to St. Michan's Church. 
 
 Suppose us then on our way down Parliament street, 
 and my friend proposes that, in order to prepare our 
 noses for what might assail them under ground, wo 
 should call in at Liisdv Foot's and procure some of 
 his high toast — antiquarians arc always snufli'-takers — 
 and while awaiting the measurement of our two penny 
 worth, he observed, ' This shop is about the spot where 
 formerly stood Isod's tower — where dwelt La Belle 
 Isoude, the favorite of a Danish King of Dublin. It 
 was a curious situation for the tower of a fair Rosa- 
 mond, just on the shores of a muddy tide water. Come,j 
 by wav of short cut, let us proceed by Essex gate and 
 lower E.xchange street, now so redolent of snuft', but, 
 once named Blind quay; I do not know but that it, 
 might be so called, from being full of those who wore 
 mostly blind drusk. I remember when the shijiping 
 came up to Essex bridge, and then this quiet lane now 
 inhal>ited by cork cutters, and working jewellers, was 
 a sort of Dublin Wapping — as Horace says, it was 
 
 'Dinertum uautis cauponibus atque molignis.' 
 Or to do the same into English, 
 
 'This was tlic lillliy purlieu of a port, j 
 
 ■\Vherc cbeatiiiE slopsellers and muicv chnpscllcrs 
 And trulls and tars resort! 
 
 The place calls to my mind the old song which in 
 mv early days, used to be in the mouths of all the 
 profligates of Dublip, and which began thus:— 
 
 'Where have you heiii all tlie day. 
 
 Watty I'cters, Watty I'ctcrs, 
 Vp and down the Blhid-finay, 
 
 Sipping bitters, sipping bitters.' 
 
 Passing by the end of Fishamble street, we came 
 upon Wood-quay. Here my friend showed where 
 ouce stood, as one of the bulwarks of the city, Proutc- 
 foot's castle; and while passing along Merchant's 
 quay, and admiring the two beautiful bridges that 
 flank that, to me, most ailmirable of all our Dublin 
 buildings, the Four Courts, he took occasion to enter 
 into a learned disciuisition as to whether the old bridge 
 which is now superseded by Whitworth bridge, was 
 built in the reign of King John, or by the Dominican 
 friars in the year 1423. 
 
 Here ray impatience got the better of my desire for 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 117 
 
 antiquiii'itin information, and I exclaimed, 'wo shall 
 never got to Miclum's CliurcU if you stop and make 
 every lauo, quay and bridge, a matter of disquisition ;' 
 so witliout further delay wo passed over the bridge, up 
 Church street, and arrived at the object of our expedi- 
 tion. 
 
 Wo foand the sexton very civil, and very well in- 
 clined to accommodate us with liglits, and to accom- 
 pany us into ' ho vaults, which are secured now by new- 
 ly repaired doors froni the intrusion of mischievous 
 Tiolaters. As we descended, we certainly felt no dis- 
 agreeable smell — nothing that warned you that you 
 were approaching the decomposing remnants of mor- 
 tality. Underneath this ample church, extend long 
 narrow galleries, on either side of whicli are the vaults, 
 not much larger than common coal vaults, in which 
 the coffins are placed. Some which are the private 
 property of individuals, are fastened up with wooden 
 or iron doors — others are open, and into one of them 
 the se.xtoQ led us, candle in hand. I confess that 
 on inspecting the contents, I was greatly disappointed. 
 I had read Brydone's description of a subterraneous 
 catacomb in Sicily, which has the property of drying up 
 the bodies of those enclosed in it, and in which those 
 dead centuries ago are still standing in their niches, the 
 same in form and feature as when alive, and clothed in 
 the attire and ornaments belonging to their sex. If I 
 did not anticipate exactly the same here, I at least ex- 
 pected, from report, to see dried and preserved speci- 
 mens of the human form, but if even there was a shock- 
 ing, revolting, melancnoly representation of what ' man 
 that is mortal,' may come to, it is here. In a com- 
 mon tomb or vault, after a few years have gone by, 
 nothing remains but the remnants of the coffin and the 
 bones — everything belongiiig to the child of dust has 
 returned to its dust, except what may mark the place 
 as a Golgotha — a place of skeletons and sculls. But 
 here death is, as it were, making mockery of mortality, 
 leaving flesh in rags and tatters, and allowing skin, 
 muscle, and cartilage to remain, so as in the most ap- 
 palling way to humble human pride, and show what 
 man's gallantry and woman's beauty may become, 
 when it is preserved, as is the case here, half skeleton, 
 half mummy. This transition state between preserva- 
 tion and decay was most horrible to look on — there lay 
 a large man, whose head was on one side, either so 
 placed in order to tit into his coffin, or else (the idea ii 
 fearful,) he had come to life in his narrow cell, and af- 
 ter horrible contortion, had died for want of air. The 
 skin on the head, the cartilages of the nose, the cellular 
 substance of the legs, the capsular ligaments of the 
 joints and fingers were all preserved — but oh, the torn, 
 worn, tattered skin ! — just like decaying, discolored 
 parchment, exhibiting all colors belonging to the slow- 
 est possible decay — blue, green and yellow — the rail- 
 dew nnd mouldiness of a century. Never will the 
 image of that ghastly specimen of decay be effaced 
 from my memory ! 
 
 It is remarkable how capriciously dissolution has 
 gone on in this awful place. Some have nearly gone 
 the way of all flesh — others have decomposed more 
 slowly ! and others again have resisted wiih great per- 
 tinacity the effects of ' decay's effacing fingers.' But 
 all exhibit painfully and powerfully, how the great 
 conqueror of man can riot over those he has subdued. 
 Some have fondly supposed that the soul's sanctity 
 and the body's purity while living was the cause of the 
 comparative preservation of some of these remains — 
 and the body of a man is shown who died in 1783, at 
 the advanced age of one hundred and eleven ; and also 
 that of a Jesuit, whose spare body, chastened, as it 
 was by his remarkable temperate habits and ascetic 
 life, seems to entitle him to the distinction of decaying 
 slowly aud gradually until the great aud final day of 
 departing time. Here also i.s the body of a man who 
 was executed for murder about one hundred and 
 twenty years ago ; and a mother who, actuated by 
 maternal affection, ' strong in death,' had directed 
 that her baby should rest in her bosom , the innocent 
 infant has long since mouldered away from its moth- 
 er's cold embrace, aud the parent lies without a record 
 or a name. 
 
 There seems to be a dry, limy, absorbing atmos- 
 phere pervading some, and only some, of these vaults, 
 which checks, without absolutely preventing decom- 
 position. I saw only some, for one of the vaults, 
 which seemed damper than the rest, was like any 
 other church vault— a depository merely of dust and 
 bones. We looked into one vault which was enclosed 
 by an iron door, and carefully locked. The coffin 
 ornaments were bright, and the tin absurdities which 
 proclaim that the poor sinner there reposing was once 
 a lord, glittered back the rays of our candle. Im- 
 mense cobwebs hung over, as if festooning with mock 
 drapery the slow process of decay, and big and bloated 
 spiders seemed sitting and watching iu grim repose 
 the tomb flies that buzzed about. Oh, poor mortal 
 man, the most wretched of reptiles can parody tny 
 actions, and turn thy deepest designs into burlesque, 
 even over the withered and wasting fragments of hu- 
 manity ! 
 
 I confess I was in as great haste to leave this horrid 
 place as I had been to enter it. My friend called me 
 back to see the spot where the two ill-fated Shcares 
 rest. The common jail shells in which they repose 
 sufficiently identified them — the headless trunks ! I 
 could stay no longer, but rushed into the open air, 
 having first thanked, as I should h&ve thanktd, the 
 sexton, for his ready eivilties. On our return we tried 
 to settle why it was that these vaults, above any in 
 Dublin, have this unusual power of retarding decom- 
 position. It is idle to talk of the soil being impreg- 
 nated with carbonate of lime, for it is not more so 
 than any other of the Dublin churches. Strange to 
 say, St. Michan's Church lies lower and nearer to the 
 level of the bed of the Liffey, than any other church 
 perhaps iu our city. ' Were you ever at Knockmoy 
 Abbey in the county of Galway V inquired my friend, 
 ' for bodies are there preserved in vaults much more 
 perfectly than here.' ' I wish.' said I, ' you would 
 give the Dublin Penny Journal a description of 
 that place.' ' Perhaps I will,' he replied, ' and that 
 shortly, together with a drawing of its very interesting 
 ruin.' ' Were you ever in the Island of Arran, that 
 lies out to sea, off the bay of Galway ?' ' Never,' re- 
 plied I. ' Well, here also you have a great pleasure 
 in store; for, independent of some of the most an- 
 cient buildings perhaps in Europe, and some of the 
 most interesting remains and memorials, it has also, 
 in a peculiar degree the property of preserving bodies 
 committed to the grave. Of this property, Giraldus 
 Cambrcnsis took notice five hundred years ago — the 
 following are his words as translated by Stannihui-st — 
 'There is in the west of Connaught, an Island placed 
 in the sea, called Aren, to which St. Brendon had 
 often recourse. The dead bodies needc not be gi-av- 
 eled, for the ayre is so pure that the contagion of any 
 carrion may not infect it, there may the son see his 
 father, his grand-father and his great grand-father, &c., 
 &c. This Island is enemy to mice, for none is brought 
 ihither, for either it Icapeth into the sen, or else being 
 stayed, it dyeth presently.' ' Well, then, good sir,' 
 urged I, for you must know I am vci-y importunate 
 when soliciting for a friend ; ' Will you, when you 
 wiite about Knockmoy, give the Penny Journal some- 
 thing also about Ai-rau ?' ' I will think about it," said 
 lie. ' A penny for your thought,' said 
 
 Terence O'Toole. 
 [Many instances of the artificial preservation of 
 bodies might be mentioned, still more remarkalile. 
 though perhaps less interesting than the above. The 
 tomb of Edward the First, who died on the 7th of 
 July, 1.307 was opened on the 2d January, 1770, and 
 after the lapse of 463 years, the body was found not 
 decayed; the flesh on the face was a little wasted, hut 
 not putrid. The body of Canute the Dane, who got 
 possession of England in the year 1017,'was found 
 very fresh in the year 1766, by the workmen repairing 
 Winchester Cathedral. In the year 1522, the body of 
 William the Conqueror was found as entire as when 
 first buried, in the Ablrey Church of St. Stephen at 
 Caen; and the body of Matilda, his wife, was found 
 entire in 1502, in the Abbey Cliurch of the Holy 
 Trinity, in the same city. 
 
 No device of art, however, for the preservation o^ 
 the remains of the dead appears equal to the simple 
 pi-oeess of plunging them over head and ears in peat 
 moss. In a manuscript by one Abraham Grey, who 
 lived about the middle of the 16th century, now in the 
 possession of his repi-evcntative Mr. Goodbehcre Grey, 
 of old Mills near Aberdeen, it is stated, that in 1553, 
 three IJoman soldiers in the dniss of iheir country, 
 fully equipped with warlike instruments, were dug out 
 of a moss of great extent, called Kazey Moss. When 
 found after a lapse of probably about fifteen hundred 
 years, they ' were quite fresh and plump !'] 
 
 ■ttStW* 
 
 
 
 m\M:M''W' 
 
 
 REAPINC. 
 
 The provident husbandman will reap his corn three 
 or four days before any two or three persons will agree 
 on it being ripe. I have more than once had occasion 
 to eongatulate myself on having done so, when look- 
 ing at the corn of those who were less fortunate, shed 
 by an equinoctial gale. Bear in mind also that you 
 will not have that loss of seed in reaping, stacking, 
 caning, &c., that you would otherwise, and that by so 
 doing you may not only escape the effects of the wind, 
 which the farmer knows he may expect about this 
 time, but also of the rain; as by being two or three 
 days early in the field, it may probably enable you to 
 have it out of danger's w.ay, stacked, or carried; where- 
 as, by contrary management, if a week of wet or 
 showery weather should come on, your corn may be 
 tossing about with every wind, and beginning to sprout 
 or malt by the time the weather becomes dry. This 
 matter should be looked closely after in our moist and 
 (at this season particularly) uncertain climate. 
 
 For the furthei-ance of this object I would strongly 
 recommend to gentlemen,and extensive tillage farmers, 
 to manage so as to have their crops ripe a week or 
 fortnight eai-lier than those of the cottiers or peasantry 
 about them, by which means they will not only have 
 the advantage most probably of good weather at reap- 
 ing time, but they will also have the still further ad- 
 vantage of being able to command and procure a suf- 
 ficiency of hands, which could not be so easily effected 
 if their own crops came in at the same lime; this can 
 be easily accomplished by sowing some weeks earlier 
 than they are accustomed to do; which will also give 
 you the same advantage in Spring time. I have found 
 a strict adherence to this practice most advantageotrs; 
 and to those even moderately extensive in tillage it 
 ought to be a sti-ong argument, if there was no other, 
 in favor of early sowing. 
 
 Mr. Coke, who is probably tlie first practical agri- 
 culturist in the world, cuts his wheat very early : even 
 when the ear and stem are greenish, and the grain not 
 hard. He says the wheat thus early reaped, is always 
 his best sample; and that he always gets two shillings 
 a quarter i'or it more tlran for wheat cut in a more ma- 
 tui'e state. He perlraps loses somewhat in the weight 
 of measure, the skin being thinirer, and the gr-arn 
 probably not quite so round; but he is more than com- 
 pensated in having no loss by shedding, which is often 
 great when the car liecomes fully ripe, ard the weather 
 wmdy. Now, if this plan is found advantageous in 
 Norfolkshire, (which is about the driest part of Eng- 
 landj how mneli more advantageous should it be in 
 our climate ? at all events, when the great portion of 
 
118 
 
 IIIISII .MlS('i:i,I.AN'Y. 
 
 the crop is ripe, wait not a momcDt, especially in an 
 exposed sinmiion, aa ulint is grvcn may nerer ripen, 
 UDil ilie ripe may tio lost by deliiy. 
 
 The best time is probably when the straw bi'low id 
 lo dry that no jiiico can be extracicU, it mailers not if 
 the stalk below is green ; every hour the crop remains 
 uncut al'ier ibis stage is attended with loss, When the 
 car of » lirat also bends at the joining ot' the straw and 
 ear, to tliat tlie latter droops or lies at an angle to the 
 stalk, your crop is then decidedly ripe. 
 
 Barley ought also he cut before too ripe, ns tlic 
 straw will got brittle, and there will bo much loss 
 by the ears breaking otT. Oals >hould be cut when 
 two or three persons, experienced in fucli matters, 
 cannot well agree whether it is fit or not, when one 
 ■ays, yes, and another, no, that is your precise moment; 
 ■S, although a hardy crop, it is at a certain stage often 
 seriously shook by high winds, particulnrly the early 
 and bettor sorts; but by management ninny risks may 
 be avoided, to which a crop might otherwise be ex- 
 posed. 
 
 Reap your corn close, in order to augment the dung- 
 heap; and let it be sufliciently seasoned betorc carried 
 to the barn-yani, lest it should heat or ferment, and 
 become comparatively of little value. In England, 
 Irish reapers are much in rcijucst with those who pre- 
 fer close cutting. It is the poorest, and those most 
 distressed at home, that go over for the purpose of 
 earning during the harvest there, and the price of labor 
 would often be much higher during that period, if it 
 were not for their annual migration. — [Lambert's Ru- 
 ral Affairs of Ireland. 
 
 O'KELLY AND KILDARE. 
 
 Having in our previous numbers given something 
 respecting the Kildare family, wo here present a story 
 which is extracted from Mr. Hardiman's' Irish Min- 
 strelsy,' and which is probably not well known to 
 the great body of our readers. 
 
 'In the year 1579, Fergus O'Kelly of Leix, married 
 the daughter of O'Byrne of Glenmalure, in the county 
 of Wicklow. The young lady remained at her father's 
 until a suitable ' stone-wall house ' should be built by 
 her husband for her recepiion, there being but few 
 stone buildings at that time in the Queen's County. 
 For this purpose O'Kelly set a number of his tenantry 
 to work. The building was commenced on a Monday 
 morning in spring, it was completed on the Saturday 
 following, and the bride was soon after brought home 
 with great rejoicings. This house was then called the 
 week house, and its ruins are now known by the name 
 of the old stone. 
 
 It happened on the following Michaelmas eve, 
 O'Kelly's lackey, Ma« Leod, was from home. On his 
 return he found that ' none of the goose ' had been re- 
 served for him. Of this he complained to his master, 
 who desired him to settle the matter with the cook, or 
 go to the yard and kill a goose for himself, but not to 
 trouble him with such trifles. Mac Leod, dlsajipoint- 
 ed and dissatisfied with this answer, departed, resolv- 
 ing to seek revenge. He immediately repaired to the 
 Eari of Kildare's castle of Kilkea, where he remained 
 until Christmns-eve, and then he told the earl that his 
 master O'Kelly, had sent to invite his lordship to 
 spend the Christmas with him. The invitation was 
 accepted, and the eari set out with a numerous retinue 
 for O'Kelly's residence. When they came to the top 
 of Tullyhill, near the house, Mac Leod gave three loud 
 calls or signals, a.s was customary in those times. His 
 master hearing them said, that wherever Mac Leod had 
 been since Michaelmas, that was his voice, if he was 
 alive. He soon after arrived and announced the earl's 
 coming, who was received with due honor and atten- 
 tion. His lordship about Twelfth day began to prepare 
 for his departure, and expressed the greatest satisfac- 
 tion at his kind reception, and the friendship of O'Kelly, 
 whose hospitality, and particularly the profusion of 
 his table, he highly praised. O'Kelly obsen-ed that it 
 should be more plentiful had he been aware of his lord- 
 ship's intention to visit him. The eari, surprised, ask- 
 ed if he had not sent to invite him. O'Kelly replied 
 not, but that notwithstanding his lordship was wel- 
 come; and added that, as he had heed pleased to re- 
 
 main until Twelfth day on bis lackey's invitation, he 
 hoped he would honor him by remaining until Candle- 
 mas on his own. To this the earl assented, but re- 
 ijuested that, as he had so many attendants, he might 
 bo at liberty to send occasionally to Kilkea for pro- 
 visions. O'Kelly answered, that as soon as his lord- 
 ship should find the supplies beginning to fail, he might 
 do so, but not before. Accordingly the fare increased, 
 and the bancjucts became more sumptuous than ever. 
 When Candlemas arrived, his lordship departed with 
 many ])rofesBions of gratitude, having particularly re- 
 quested that he might have the honor of standing spon- 
 sor for O'Kelly's first child, in order to cement the 
 friendship that subsisted between them. Mrs. O'Kel- 
 ly was soon after delivered of a son, and his lord- 
 ship attended the christening, which was celebrated 
 with great pomp and rejoicings. The house was filled 
 with guests, and resounded with music and merriment; 
 but the morning after the earl's arrival, the poor young 
 lady and infant were both found dead. This melan- 
 choly catastrophe was attrilmted to the boisterous rev- 
 elry and noise with which they were surrounded. 
 O'Kelly's joy was turned into sorrow, but oven this 
 was only a prelude to still greater misfortunes. 
 
 Kildare remained for some time to console bis friend, 
 whom he invited to Kdkea until he should recover 
 from the effects of his grief, otfering him, at the same 
 time, his sister in marriage, and profi'ering his service 
 in any other way which might bo most agreeable or ac- 
 ceptable. Unfortunately for O'Kelly, he accepted the 
 invitation, and fell, an unsuspecting victim, into the 
 snare which had been insidiously laid for him. A few 
 days after his arrival at Kilkea, the carl took him to 
 the top of the castle under pretence of viewing the sur- 
 rounding scenery; and with the assistance of a few fol- 
 lowers, whom he liad placed there for the purjjose, he 
 cut off O'Kelly's head. This atrocious and treacherous 
 murder was soon communicated to queen Elizabeth, 
 ns a meritorious proof of KIMaro's loyalty in beheading 
 an Irisli rebel; and her majesty Wiis so well pleased, 
 that she directed a grant to be forthwith passed to the 
 earl, of all O'Kelly's estates.' 
 
 SWINE. 
 
 A good stock and valuable breed of swine, are of 
 great benefit and iraportauce to the farmer, as they 
 consume oifal and other matters, which would 
 otherwise go to loss; even from the refuse of a 
 good garden a number of i)igs may bo fed. Brew- 
 ers, distillers, millers, dairy-deepcrs, may keep 
 them to great advantage. Li Ireland the pig is an 
 invaluable animal to the peasant, where potatoes 
 arc groun in such abundance; and the small land 
 holders look to them as a great assistance towards 
 the pajTiient of their rents. 
 
 Some breeds are highly valuable compared with 
 others, as being easily fed and fattened, and in re- 
 spect to the quantity of meat they will return for a 
 given quantity of food. Some breeds would fatten 
 where others would remain Btarvlings. The Rerk- 
 shire breed is one of those most approved of (al- 
 though not large) for the before named qualities. 
 The old Irish breeds are hard to be fed, particularly 
 those with long legs, and ears hanging over their 
 eyes, so as to prevent them from seeing, or their 
 eyes from being seen. NVTierc they have been 
 crossed with the Berkshire, they have been much 
 improved, but breeders should not follow crossing 
 beyond one generation. Two Berkshires will fat- 
 ten on the keep required for one of our large Irish 
 breed, there being none that will thrive on less food 
 than the former. They are easily known by the 
 color, which is a tawney ■white, spotted with black; 
 their legs arc short and their bones arc small; they 
 are very hardy and will live well all the simimcr on 
 grass, by turning them out well rung, or with the 
 two strong tendons of the snout cut with a sharp 
 knife to keep them from doing mischief, and they 
 will come in well conditioned, so you need do little 
 more than harden the flesh that is upon them, as 
 soft pork or bacon is not only bad for eating but 
 the worst economy. 
 
 Cobbctt, who is excellent anthorlty on rural af- 
 fairs, says that a pig cannot be fattened too highly; 
 in this he is certainly right, where the bacon is re- 
 quired for hard-working laborers; but over-fat ba- 
 con is not generally approved of at the tables of 
 the alHuent; tinn, clear and moderately fat, being 
 more esteemed by such. Oats, pease, or barley 
 meal, must be given at least for three weeks before 
 killing, to hardcu the flesh. Boiled or steamed po- 
 tatoes, bran, otfals, S:c., will answer previously. — 
 [Lambert's Rural jUfairs of Ireland. 
 
 ANCIENT IRISH CROWN. 
 Among the innumerable antiquities hitherto discov- 
 ered in Ireland, there is nothing perhaps of greater 
 interest, or which more curiously illustrates the an- 
 tiquity of our monarchic institutions, than the Golden 
 Crown represented above. In its style and workman- 
 ship it is perfectly eastern, and unlike every thing oj 
 the kind used in Europe within historic times. It was 
 found ten feet under the grouud at a place called 
 ' Barn an eli,' in the eouniy of Tippernry in the year 
 1662, and was purchased by Joseph Comerford, Esq., 
 a gentleman descended from a younger brother of. 
 Comerford, in the county of Staftbrd, who attended 
 King lohn in his expedition into Ireland. It is said 
 still to bo preserved by the family of that gentleman, 
 in the Castle of Anglure, in Champagne, to which ho 
 retired after the war of 1689. Its weight was only about 
 five ounces. Similar crowns have been found in other 
 pirts of Ireland of somewhat greater weight, hut none 
 of them have been preserved. 
 
 MR. CURRAN. 
 
 This celebrated advocate of the Irish bar went one 
 day to hear the pleadings at the Old Bailey; but was 
 refused admittance by the gallery door-keeper, until he 
 submitted to the scandalous imposition of paying two 
 shillings for it. 'Pay for admission to a court of just- 
 ice!' says this eloquent barrister, 'wliy man, I am come 
 from a country where they give money to such a sim- 
 ple man as me for going into a court!' 'Mpre lools 
 they,' was the reply. 
 
 [End of No. 9 of the Dublin Penny Journal.] 
 
 Tub Motheu. — Despise not thy mother when she 
 is old. Age may wear and waste a mother's beauty, 
 strength, limbs, senses and estate ; but her relation as 
 mother is as the sun when it goes forth in his might, 
 for it is always in the meridian, and knoweth no eve- 
 ning. The person may be greyheaded, but her moth- 
 erly relation is ever in its flourish. It may be autumn, 
 yea, winter, with a woman, but with the mother it is 
 always spring. 
 
 Alas, how little do we appreciate a mother's tender- 
 ness while living ! How heedless are we in youth of 
 all her anxieties and kindness ! But when she is detd 
 and gone — when the cares and colilncss of the world 
 come withering to our hearts — when we experience 
 how hard it is to find sympathy — how few love us for 
 ourselves — how few will befriend us in misfortune — 
 then it is that we think of the mother we have lost. 
 
 When Lord Erskine made his debut at the bar, his 
 agitation so nearly overcame him that he was just go- 
 ing to sit down. ' At that moment,' he said, ' I thought 
 I felt my little children tugging at my gown, and the 
 idea roused mo to an exertion which 1 did not tbitik 
 capable.' 
 
 Women cannot reason, but they feel eo keenly as to 
 be often led to the right conclusions without knowing 
 why. Their only philosophy is that of the heart. 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 119 
 
 CATHERINC THE SHAMROCK. 
 
 BV RICBAKD ODLAUAN. 
 
 From tho chilly shore of Autrim, 
 
 To Mncgillncuddy'8 Keeks; 
 From Koscommoii's rushy pastures. 
 
 To lien Uciler's (niry creeks; 
 In the valley at the dawning, 
 
 As the milk-maid seeks her cow, 
 On the hills, and raths, and ditches. 
 
 They are gatb'riug Shamrock now. 
 
 God be with this holy morning. 
 
 As we knew it years ago, 
 ■When the drowning of the Shamrock 
 
 Made the whiskey overflow! 
 Happy days! ye'rc gone forever, 
 
 Like the primrose blooming then, 
 As we tripp'd along the pathway 
 
 To our chapel in the glen. 
 
 Are the hurlers still as active, 
 
 Are the foot-ball men as swift 
 Do they bound, like pikemen, to the goal, 
 
 To win a sweet-heart's gift? 
 Do the maidens line the hedges 
 
 Kear the play ground as of yore? 
 riay they leap frog yet, and wrestle, 
 
 By the Litl'ey and the Xore? 
 
 In this land, where Freedom revels 
 
 From the Hudson to Salt Lake, 
 Where the exiles' blood is ready. 
 
 As an otTring for her sake ; 
 We may wear a sprig of clover, 
 
 And to heaven bend the knee, 
 But our hearts are in thy bosom, 
 
 Erin, ciisldagal machree.' 
 
 Up thy mountain, Mullaghcarn, 
 
 'Mid the fla.K fields of Tyrone; 
 By the shepards of the Curragh, 
 
 On tliy battle ground, Athlone— 
 Young and old give rein to pleasure 
 
 'Mongst our kiudred far away. 
 But our yearning eyes may never 
 
 See an Irish Patricks day ! 
 
 ADVENTURE WITH A MADMAN. 
 
 I was called upon in my senior year to watch with 
 an insane student. He was a man who had attracted 
 a great deal of attention in college; he appeared in an 
 extraordinary costume at the beginning of our Fresh- 
 man Term, and wrote himself down as Washington 
 Greyling, of , an unheard-of settlement some- 
 where beyond the Mississippi. His coat and other 
 gear might have been the work of a Chickasaw 
 tailoi, aided by the superintending taste of some 
 white huntsman, who remembered faintly the outline 
 of habiliments he had not seen for half a century; it 
 would have been ridiculous it it had not encased one 
 of the finest models of a manly frame that ever trod 
 the earth. With close-curling black hair, a fine wea- 
 ther-browned complexion, Spanish features (from his 
 mother — a frequent physiognomy in the countries bor- 
 dering on Spanish America,) and the port and lithe 
 motion of a lion, he was a figure to loolc upon in any 
 disguise wiih warm admiration. He was soon put 
 into the hands of a tailor-proper, and with the facility 
 which belongs to his countrymen, became in a month 
 the best dressed man in college. His manners were 
 of a gentlemanlike mildness, energetic, but courteous, 
 and chivalri.sque, and unlike mott savages and all 
 coins, he polished without ' losing his mark,' At 
 the end of his first term, he would have been called a 
 high-breil gentleman at any court in Europe. Tlie 
 opening of his mind was almost as rapid and extraord- 
 inary. He seized everything with an ardor and 
 freshness that habit and dilliculty never deadened. He 
 was like a man who had tumbled into a new star, and 
 was collecting knowledge for a world to wliich he was 
 to return. The first in all games, the wildest in all 
 adventure, the most distinguished, even in tho elegant 
 society for which the town is remarkable, and unfail- 
 ingly brilliant in his reciialions and college perform- 
 ances, he was looked up to as a sort of admirable 
 phenomenon, and neither envied nor opposed in any 
 thing. I have often thought, in looking on him, that 
 his sensaiions at coming fresh from a wild western 
 prairie, and at tlie first measure of his capacities with 
 
 men of better ndvantsigcs, finding himself so uniform- 
 ly superior, must have been stirringly delightful. It 
 is a wonder he never became arrogant; but it was the 
 last foible of which he could have been accused. 
 
 Wo wei-e reading hard for the honors in the senior 
 yeai-, when Greyling suddenly lost his reason. He 
 had not been otherwise ill, and had apparently in tlie 
 midst of high health gone mad at a moment's warning. 
 The physician scarce knew how to treat him. The 
 confinement to which he was at first subjected, how- 
 ever, was thought inexpedient, and he seemed to 
 justify their lenity by the gentlest behavior when at 
 liberty. He seemed oppressed by a heart-breaking 
 melancholy. We took our turns in guarding and 
 watching with him, and it was upon the first night of 
 duly that the incident happened w-dch I have thus 
 endeavored to introduce. It was scarce like a vigil 
 with a sick man, for our patient went regularly to bed, 
 and usually slept well, I took my 'Lucretius,' and 
 the 'Book of the Martyrs,' which were just then my 
 favorite reading, and with hot punch, a cold chicken, 
 books and a fire, I looked forward to it as merely a 
 studious night; and as the wintry wind of January 
 rattled in at the old college windows, I thrust my feet 
 into slippers, drew my dressing-gown about me, and 
 congratulated myself on tne excessive comfortableness 
 of my position. 
 
 It had snowed all day, but the sun had set with a 
 red rift in the clouds, and the face of the sky was swept 
 in an hour to the clearness of — I want a comparison — 
 your own bine eye, dear Mary! The all-glorious 
 arch of heaven was a mass of sparkling stars, Grey- 
 ling slept, and I, wearied of the cold philosopljy of the 
 Latin poet, took to my ' Book of Martyrs.' I read 
 on, and read on. The college clock struck; it seemed 
 to me, the quarters raiher than the hours. Time flew; 
 it was three. ' Horrible ! most horrible !' I started 
 from my chair with the exclamation, and felt as if my 
 scalp were self-lifted from my head. It was a descrip- 
 tion in the harrowing faithfulness of the language of 
 olden time, painting almost the articulate groans of an 
 impaled Christian, I clasped the old iron-bound book 
 and rushed to the window as if my heart was stiflng 
 for fresh air. 
 
 Again at the fire. The large walnut fagots had 
 burned to a bed of bright coals, and I sat gazing into 
 it, totally unable to shake off the fearful incubus from 
 my breast. The martyr was there— on the very hearth 
 — with the stakes scornfully crossed in his body ; and 
 as the large co.als cracked asunder and revealed the 
 brightness within, I seemed to follow the nerve-rend- 
 ing instrument from hip to shoulder, and suffer with 
 him pang for pang, as if the burning redness were the 
 pools of his fevered blood. 'Aha!' It struck on my 
 ear like the cry of an exulting fiend. ' Aha !' I shrunk 
 into the chair as the awful cry was repeated, and 
 looked slowly and with diflicult courage over my shoul- 
 der. A single fierce eye was fi.xed upon me fi om the 
 mass of bid-elothes, and, for a moment, the relief from 
 the fear of some supernatural presence was like water 
 to a parched tongue, I sank back relieved into tho 
 chair. There was a rustling immediately in the bed, 
 and, starting again, I found the wild eyes of iny patient 
 fixed still stearifasily upon me. He was creeping 
 stealihily out of bed. His bare foot toudud the floor, 
 and his toes worked upon it as if he was feeling its 
 strength, and in a moment he stood uprightonhis feet, 
 and, wiih his he.ad forward and his pale face livid with 
 rage, stepped towards me, I looked to the door. He 
 observed the glance, and in the next instant he sprung 
 clear over the bed, turned the key, and daihed it furi- 
 ously tlirough the window. ' Now,' said he, 'Grey- 
 ling !' I said, I had heard that a culm and fixed gaze 
 would control a madman, and with the most difficult 
 exertion of nerve I met his lowering eye, and we stood 
 looking at each other for a full minute, like men of 
 marble, 'Why have you left your bed!' I mildly 
 asked, 'To kill you !' was the appalling answer ; and 
 in another moment the light-stand was swept from be- 
 tween us, and he struck me down wiih a blow that 
 would have felled a giant. Naked as he was, I had no 
 hold upon him, even if in muscular strength I had 
 
 been his match; and with a minute's struggle I yield- 
 ed, for resistance was vain. His knee was now upon 
 my breast, and his left hand in my hair, and he seemed, 
 by tho tremulousness of his clutch, to bo hesitaiing 
 whether he should dash my brains out on the hearth. 
 I could scarce breathe with his weight upon my chest, 
 but I tried, with the broken words I could command, 
 to move his pity. He laughed, as only maniacs can, 
 and placed his hand upon my throat. Shall 1 ever 
 forget the fiendish deliberation with which ho closed 
 those feverish fingers ■; ' Greyling !— for God's sake ! 
 Greyling!' 'Die !' said he. In the agonies of suft'o- 
 eation I struck out my arm, and almost buried it In 
 the fire npon the hearth. With au expiring thought, I 
 grasped a handful of the red-hot coals, and had just 
 strength sufficient to press them hard against bis side, 
 'Thank God!' 1 exclaimed with my first breath, as 
 my eyes recovered from their sickness, and I looked 
 upon the familiar objects of my chamber once more. 
 Tho madman sat crouehed like a whipped dog in the 
 farthest corner of the room, gibbering and moaning, 
 with his hands upon his burnt side, I felt that I had 
 escaped death by a miracle. The door was locked, 
 and, in dread of another attack, I threw up the win- 
 dow, and to my unutterable joy the figure of a man 
 was visible upon the snow near the outbuildings of ihe 
 college. It was a charity student, risen before day to 
 labor in the wood yard, I shouted to him, and Grey- 
 ling leapt to his feet. 'There is time yet!' said the 
 madman ; but as he came towards me again, with the 
 same panther-like caution as before, I seized a heavy 
 stone pitcher standing in the window-seat, and, hurling 
 it at him with a fortunate force and aim, he fell stunned 
 and bleeding on the floor. The door was burst ojien 
 at the next moment, and calling for assistance, we tied 
 the wild Missourian into his bed, bound up his head and 
 side, and committed him to fresh watchers. We have 
 killed bears together at a Missouri Salt Lick since then; 
 but I never see Greyling with the smile off his face, 
 without a disposition to look around for the door. 
 
 Children's Temper, — Bad temper is oftener the 
 result of unhappy circumstances than of an unhappy 
 organization; it frequenily, however, has a physical 
 cause, and a peevish child ofieu needs dieting more 
 than correcting. Some children are more prone to 
 show temper than other.<i, and sometimes on account 
 of qualities which are valuable in themselves. For 
 instance, a child of active temperament, sensitive feel- 
 ing, and eager purpose, is more Itkely to meet with 
 constant jars and rubs, than a dull, passive child ; ami 
 if he is of an open nature, his inward irritation is im- 
 mediately shown in bursts of passion. If you repress 
 these ebullitions by scolding and pnnishment, you only 
 increase the evil by changing passion into sulkiness. 
 A cheerful, good-tempered tone of your own, a svm- 
 p.athy with his trouble, whenever the trouble has arisen 
 from no ill conduct on his part, are the l)est antidotes ; 
 but it would be better still to prevent beforehand, as 
 much as possible, all sources of annoyance. Never 
 fear spoiling children by making them too happy 
 Happiness is the atmosphere in which all good affec- 
 tions grow — the wholesome warmth necessary to make 
 the heart-blood circulate healthily and freely ; unhap- 
 piness the chilling pressure which produces here au 
 inflaniation, tliere an excrescence, and, worst of all, 
 ' the mind's green and yellow sickness — ill-temper.' 
 
 Content is the tranquility of ihe heart ; prayer is its 
 aliment. It is satisfied under every dispensation of 
 Providence, and takes thankfully its allotted portion . 
 never inquiring whether a little more would not be a 
 little better ; knowing that if God had so judged, it 
 would have been as easy for him to have given the 
 more as the less. That is not true content which does 
 not enjoy, as the gift of Infinite Wisdom, what it has ; 
 nor is that true patience which does not suffer meekly 
 the loss of what it had, because it is not His will that 
 it should have it longer. — [Hannah More. 
 
 ' Sam,' said a lady to a milk-hoy, ' I guess, from 
 the looks of your milk, timt y ur mother put dirty 
 water in it,' 
 
 ' No, »lie didn't notber,' replied the boy ; ' for I seed 
 her draw it clean out of the well 'fore she put it in,' 
 
120 
 
 HUSH MISCELLANY. 
 
 The ncconipanyinK eng;r«ving 
 is a rcprcwmnlion of the Kepi- 
 mcntal Fine; of the ktnnd of rol- 
 urn prewiitid by the I'oimiion 
 foumil of Niw' York C'ily, to 
 the 69th rfgiiiuiit of N. V. !S. M., 
 fol. James It. Kynn, comimmd- 
 inR. The fl«K i» of rii-h blue 
 nilk, with a biovy frinRC of deep 
 yellow. In the centre is the dc- 
 »i(;n, RO e.tciui.sitely wrought iu 
 needle work, that nt ii .^hort di». 
 tnnce it cannot be distinguished 
 from the most elaborate enamel 
 painting. The emblazonry ia a 
 highly oniatc fliield, supported 
 by two Iri.sh wolf dogs, unil quar- 
 tered with the emblems of tho 
 Vnited States and Ireland, tho 
 superior quarterings bearing tho 
 'stnr.H and stripes' of America 
 and the 'sunburst' of Krin; un- 
 der these arc the round tower 
 and Irish harp; on a miniature 
 shield in the centre, and appro- 
 priately uniting the quarterings, 
 is the regimental number, 'CU. 
 Beneath is tho rhythmical motto, 
 'CfCDtIo wlien (itroked, 
 Fierce when provoked,' 
 divided iqually on two scrolls, 
 with a cluster of shamrocks in 
 the middle. Surmounting the 
 shield is tho .Vincrican eagle, 
 with extended wings, carrying 
 pendant from his beak a medall- 
 ion wreathed with Bhararocks and 
 
 Or O ^ O 
 
 REGIMENTAL ilJiii OF TUK iSIXTi -iMNTlI IUa.UIEN I, NEW VuUK STATE MILITIA. 
 
 bearing the inscription, 'Jackson, 
 Montgomery, Sullivan, Harry, 
 Fitzgerald.' Projecting on either 
 hide of the medallion, are the 
 embleniK of peace and war; and 
 fonuing a crescent over all, the 
 'old thirteen' stars of the l.'nion. 
 The combination and blending of 
 the various colors in the work is 
 e.Tcellent, and produces a spir- 
 ited and pleasing efTect. Besides 
 the color represented, there is a 
 Statu Hag also, which completes 
 the stand, wrought with like 
 skill and taste, and which bears 
 in addition to the arms and motto 
 of New York, the inscription, 
 'Presented to the Sixty-ninth 
 Regiment, New Y'ork State Mili- 
 tia, by the Common Council of 
 New York. 18.57.' Both of the 
 colors were borne in th« ranks of 
 the gallant 6Uth, (which regi- 
 nunt acted as estort for the civic 
 procession on St. Patrick's day) 
 and attracted uniYcrsal attention. 
 Through the courtesy of Colonel 
 Ryan, tlie popular, gentlemanly 
 id efticient commander of the 
 regiment, wc hare bten enabled 
 to present to our readers the ac- 
 companying sketch. Should the 
 69th ever be called upon to de- 
 fend their adopted country, we 
 know of no more gallant spirit to 
 lead them to victory than Col. K. 
 
 Thb ' Fatk oy Katuleen.'— We find the follow- 1 ' Tkky Sat.'— Of all the words in the several hun- 
 ing in Mrs. AVeUington Boates's 'Recollections of dreds of languages that arc spoken in the world, 
 Ireland:' With which wc are acquainted, there arc no other 
 
 'Kathleen Dhu was the pride of a pretty Tillage, that cause so much trouble as those two little mono- 
 in the county Antrim. Part of my childhood was syllables— 'They Say.' If a person has a particu- 
 spcnt in that beautiful and classic county. Kath- larly mischievous bent, and is desirous of setting 
 leen often guided me over the dangerous rocks afloat a story that will blacken character and dc- 
 around Fair- Head, and through the verdant glen stroy peace, it is always begun with ' they say ' thus, 
 of Murlock, which borders Tor- Point. On one and so. ' They say ' begins it, and when the ' scan, 
 summer's morning, Kathleen came to invite me to mag.' is in everybody's mon'h, then 'they say,' be- 
 hcr wedding, which she stated was to take place on coracs the.fact. If an adroit person is desirous of 
 the following Sunday, in the village church. Thar drawing out another who is not off soundings, 'they 
 Sunday came, and a brighter summer mom never say' is the insidious step that leads the dupe to corn- 
 beamed. I was up with the lark, and my heart mittal, and he is at the mercy of the pumper. A\'hcn- 
 beat quick as I prepared for my journey. Breath- ever you hear the words ' they say,' stop right short 
 less I reached the abode of Kathleen; but, lo! no and ask the question, ' who say r' Demand boldly 
 sound of joy was there. On the cottage-floor lay a who 'they' are, and nine times out of ten you will 
 coffin, and iu the comer of the apartment, on a bed- find the 'ihey' to be but a mere man or woman of 
 stead draped with white sheets, and festooned with.siraw. Fearful contingencies may depend upon the 
 snowy ribbons, and garlands of wild flowers, lay use of the words, and 'they say' should never be 
 
 Remaukaule Wouks of HLMA>r Lauoii. — Nin- 
 eveh was 15 miles long, 8 wide, and 10 round, with 
 a wall 100 feet high, and thick enough for three 
 chariots abreast. Babylon was 50 miles within the 
 walls, which were 75 feet thick and 300 feet high, 
 with 100 brazen gates. The Temple of Diana at 
 Ephcsus, was 429 feet to the support of the room. 
 It was a hundred years in building. The largest of 
 the pyramids is 481 feet high, and 663 on the sides; 
 its base covers 11 acres. The stones are about 30 
 feet in length, and the layers are 308. It employed 
 330,000 men in building. The labyrinth in Egypt 
 contains 300 chambers and 12 halls. Thebes, in 
 Egypt, presents ruins 27 miles round, and 100 
 gates. Carthage was 23 miles round. Athens was 
 25 miles round, and contained 359,000 citizens and 
 100,000 slaves. The temple of Delphos was so rich 
 in donations, that it was plundered of $500,000, 
 and Nero carried away from it 200 statues. The 
 walls of Rome were 13 miles round. 
 
 the poor Kathleen Dhu, cold, motionless, dead ! 
 A lace border, with a wreath of white daises, encir- 
 cled the pale forehead and cheeks, and was fasten- 
 ed under the chin with a pink gauze knot. The 
 eyes were closed, but a sweet smile played upon 
 the features, giving the expression of an inward 
 looking up. She seemed like a .sleeping sylph, 
 ■whose dreaming spirit was wandering in a brighter 
 land. Poor Katlileen's tale of woe ran thus: — 
 Cormack, to whom she had been affianced, and was 
 to have been married on that day, had proved false 
 to her. At the solicitation of his mother, he had 
 deserted her, and consented to wed Nannie, the 
 only daughter of a wealthy farmer. The news 
 reached Kathleen ; she clasped her hands together, 
 and exclaimed, ' Oh, God, my heart will btirst 1 
 Shortly after, she leant down on her mother's bed, 
 
 used by well meaning people at all in conneciion 
 with anything that may have a tendency to injure 
 any one. Leave the fabulous ' ihey says ' to the 
 scandal monger, and when you quote authorities, 
 let them be something more tangible than these peo- 
 ple in buckram, who serve in the train of malignant 
 cowardice. 
 
 To Become V.nhai'I'Y. — In the first place, if you 
 want to be miserable, be selfish. Think all the 
 time of yourself, and of your own things. Don't 
 care about anybody else. Have no feeling for any 
 one but yourself. Never think of enjoying the 
 satisfaction of seeing others happy ; but the rather, 
 if you see e smiling face, be jealous lest another 
 should enjoy what you have not. Envy every one 
 who is better off in any respect than yourself; 
 
 Co-opEiLATioN OF THE AViFE. — There is much 
 good sense and truth in the remark of a modem 
 author, that no man ever prospered in the world 
 without the co-operation of his wife. If she unites 
 in mutual endeavors, or rewards his labor with an 
 endearing smile, with what confidence will he re- 
 sort to his merchandise, or his farm, fly over lands, 
 sail over seas, meet difficulty and encounter dan- 
 ger — if he knows that he is not spending his 
 strength in vain, but that his labor will be re- 
 warded by the sweets of home ! Solitude and dis- 
 appointment enter the history of every man's life . 
 and he has not half provided for his voyage, who 
 finds but an associate for happy hours, while for 
 months of darkness and distress, no sympathizing 
 partner is prepared. 
 
 PuEVENTioN OF Sea Sickness. — Dr. Lander, a 
 
 think unkindly towards them. Be constantly afraid 
 and feU osleep, but she never awoke. What bright ',^^^^ ^^^^ ^^^ ^j^^^^ encroach upon your rights ;' medical man at Athens, announces that he has dis- 
 dream haunted that last deep sleep no mortal can ij^^ ^^.^^^.j^^^l ^gain.t it, and if any one comes near' covered a sovereign specific against sea sickness, 
 know; but the sweet smile that played upon her ' ^^- ^^ ^j^ jj^^ „ ^„j ^ Contend! His remedy is to give from ten to twelve drops of 
 
 placid face seemed to say that a hovenng angel had ■' ,. .. ,,. , , \ t_^ r ■ n.^ ,, ^ . 
 
 borne her spirit to a realm of blisx. 1 followed the earnestly for everything that is your o^ra, though chlorofomi, in water. Ihe chlorofomi, in most 
 funeral procession in the distance. As it ncared it may not be worth a pin; for your 'rights' are cases, removes nansca, and persons who have taken 
 the church gate by one road, Cormack and his hri- !just as much concerned as if it were a pound of the remedy soon become able to stand up, and get 
 dal party approached slowly by another road. The jj y^^.^,^ .^^ ^ ;^j p^ sensitive, and' accustomed to the movement of the vessel. Should 
 
 friends of Kathleen slackened their pace, and conse- ", ,., . ., .,„, I,-, . ,.,_, 
 
 quently the two parties met in the portal. In a '"''e everything that is said to you in pla)-fulness] the sickness return a fresh dose is to be taken. It 
 few days after, I went to plant some wild primroses in the most serious manner. Be jetdous of your, was tried on twenty passengers on a very rough 
 on the grsive of poor Kathleen, and a peasant in- friends, lest they should not think enough of you. voyage from Zea to Athens, and all, with the ex- 
 formed me that the intended bride had been carried And if any time they should seem to neglect you,] ception of two, were cured by one dose. The mi- 
 home in a swoon, and that the faithless Cormack put the worst construction upon their conduct you' iiority, two ladies, were able to resist the feeling of 
 had fled to America." can. illness on taking a second dose. 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 121 
 
 THE 
 IRISH MISCELLANY 
 
 Is published weekly, and devoted to the interests nud vin- 
 dicutiou of the Irish people tliroughout tlie world. 
 
 Tiic Misceltani/ repuhlishus each week ouo whole number 
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 selected essays, reviews, poetry, &c., by Irishmen, of lirst- 
 rate ability. It also contains beuutiful I'ictorial Illustra- 
 tions of Irish scenery and other objects of interest, among 
 which may be enumerated engravings oi the ancient cas- 
 tles and round towers, the ruins of the old churches, the 
 plundered monasteries, convents and abbeys of Ireland. 
 
 It will also contain correct IMctorial representations of 
 worksof art executed by Irishmen oi the pre.sent day, as 
 well as iu former times, in this country and throughout 
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 Celebration in your city was in baud when yours reached 
 ns. Do not forget us in future. 
 
 ' I*. W.' Your poetic favor does not come up to our 
 standard, and is respectfully declined. 
 
 '11. Fleming. ' You will And your question as to the 
 population of Ireland answered in an article from the Dub- 
 lin I'KNNV Jouknal, to which wc have added the census 
 of Ireland for the last thirty years. Belfast is the largest 
 commercial town in Ireland. Her registered tonnage of 
 shipping is greater than that of any other port iu Ireland. 
 
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 you in a subsequent number of the Miscellany. 
 
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 formation you desire in any Railway Guide. 
 
 ' James E. O'Connor,' N. Y. We will endeavor to an- 
 swer your queries in our next. 
 
 'A Layman,' Chicago. Bishops in partihus is an ellipti- 
 cal phrase, and should be supplied with the word Infideliuvi. 
 These are bishops who have no actual see, but who are 
 consecrated as if they had, under the fiction that they are 
 bishops in sees where Christianity is extinct. Syria, Asia 
 Minor, Greece, and the northern coast of Africa, present 
 many of these extinct sees, some of them the most ancient 
 and interesting in the history of Christianity. 
 
 IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 BOSTON, SATOKDAY, APRIL 3, 1858 
 
 ST. PATRICK'S DAY CELEBRATIONS. 
 
 The annual festival which true hearted Irishmen celebrate 
 1 over the world, has this year been observed iu this coun- 
 try, iu most places, with more than usual warmth, whila in 
 some localities our fellow countrymeu seem to have looked 
 upon it with feelings approaching to indifference. 
 
 There is something indescribably grand and virtuous in 
 the unwavering devotion with which Irishmen in exile 
 cling to the memories of their native land; and cold, in- 
 deed, must that Irish heart be, which can look on with 
 apathy ; or cease to cherish the pious recollections which 
 the annual return of that festival calls to every generous 
 d. Our country, alas ! in modern days, has little to 
 boast. True, we cau point with pride to the indomitable 
 bravery of our people, in many a contest with the English 
 enemy, wherein was displayed bravery and courage deserv- 
 ing of success although they did not obtain it. We ought, 
 therefore, to cling with greater fervor to those historic 
 memories of our native land, which shed such refulgence 
 and glory upon the pages of our past history. 
 
 Tue devotion of Ireland to her faith under the most awful 
 persecution, for a period of three hundred years, presents 
 one of the noblest objects for contemplation and reflection 
 in the history of the world. Irishmen may well point with 
 pride to this period of her past history, as attesting their 
 fidelity to that faith planted by St, Patrick, which no perse- 
 cution could shake— no bribe tempt them to abandon. In 
 this connection it is chiefly, that we wish to see Ireland's ha- 
 tal day honored by her persecuted children, no matter in 
 what clime fate may have cast their lot, as well as for the 
 old scenes, old faces, and old times which its celebration 
 calls to mind. 
 
 It is, therefore, with feelings of intense regret that we 
 have seen in some places a growing disposition to abandon 
 those festivities usual upon this day, lest they might give 
 oflence to the Puritanical bigotry and intolerance with 
 which we are in many places surrounded. 
 
 In Boston, some years ago, it was customary for onr 
 countrymen to march in procession to differeut churches, 
 and there assist in the celebration of the divine mysteries. 
 The sneers and scoffs of our Yankee neighbors proved too 
 much lor this, and, in obedience to this intolerance our 
 usual displays have been abandoned. In Boston we 
 are ' sixty per cent ' of the population, and yet we are treat- 
 ed by our city government as a paltry minority of its in- 
 habitants ; and more still we acquiesce in this treatment, 
 by our silence and indiflerence. St. Patrick's day comes, 
 and instead of showing our numbers and intelligence, by a 
 display which would do honor to our old land, we hide our 
 heads and seem to be ashamed of the day which, elsewhere 
 gladdens so many Irish hearts. A couple of dinners, at 
 which less than one hundred persons participated, is the 
 sum and substance of Boston's devotion to St. Patrick's 
 Day. 
 
 In Philadelphia this year, the feast was not celebrated 
 with that devotion which we had aright to expect from the 
 numbers, talents, and patriotism of the Irishmen of that 
 city. In New York, au attempt was made to weaken the 
 display which annually gives such joy, and pride, and hope 
 to our race at home and abroad; but it failed, and the pro- 
 cession iu houor of our Patron Saiut iu that city, was all 
 that could be desired. 
 
 If looked into, it will generally be found that professional 
 politicians among us are to blame for this state of things. 
 In New York it was so; and it is doubtless so in too many 
 other places. In years pabt we were in the habit of inviting 
 our favorite American politicians to our feasts, and ehow- 
 
 cnngupon them all the honors and attentions at our com 
 mand. In return, they deluged us with fulsome praises and 
 hypocritical 'blarney.' They were insincere in their en- 
 comiums, and false in their professed admiration of us. 
 They used us at election time, and treated us with contempt 
 when our votes had been given. Know Nothingism came, 
 cast its deadly blight over the land, and our former friends 
 were the lirst to explore the dark recesses of the midnight 
 lodge, the first to denounce as everything vile and vicious. 
 It is high time the schemes and plots of these professional 
 politicians were put a stop to, that they may no longer bar- 
 ter and sell our votes for some contemptible place for them- 
 selves. It is our duty as Irishmen to cultivate in our chil- 
 dren a love and veneration tor those feasts and festivals 
 which we cherished at homo. In this there is nothing in- 
 consistent with the purest loyalty to our adopted land 
 
 nothing inconsistent with inten,se dovotion to its best inter- 
 ests. The man who ceases to cherish a love for his native 
 soil, soon forgets his God, and is in a fair way to prove an 
 Arnold to the land of his adoption. Let us then honor 
 St. Patrick's day in a manner worthy onr illustrious patron. 
 Let it be celebrated by Irishmen, everywhere, regardless of 
 the sneers of those who have no such days to boast. Avoid 
 all Politicians whether of our own or any other race. Let 
 Irishmen on this day love each other— honor each other 
 and thus shed the greatest honorupon their native land. 
 
 We must learn the lessons of self-reliance, and cease to 
 place faith in the professions of the stranger. By thus act- 
 ing we shall acquiie that feeling of self-respect which is the 
 most essential element in our social elevation, we shall thus 
 gain the respect and admiration of those who now look 
 upon us with indifference if not with contempt. 
 
 NUMBER ONE. 
 
 We have to trespass upon the patience of our agents and 
 new subscribers v\ho have not yet been supplied with the 
 first number of the Miscellany. Editors and printers are but 
 mortals and cannot perform impossibilites. We promised 
 our patrons that they should be supplied with our second 
 edition of No. 1 this week. St. Patrick's day has inter- 
 vened since then, and as that is a day on which no Irishman 
 works, our printers followed the usual course and devoted 
 the 17th to the memory of their native laud. In addition to 
 this, we have been obliged to make arrangements different to 
 what we first contemplated, in order to prevent the reprint- 
 ing of No. 1 from interfering with the regular weekly issue 
 of our paper. Our agents and subscribers may depend 
 upon having it with number 9. In Ms there will be no disap 
 pointment. 
 
 TO OUR SUBSCRIBERS. 
 
 In answer to numerous enquiries, we would state that the 
 connection of Messrs. Jackson & Foynes, with the Irish 
 Miscellany, terminated on the fifth of March last. The 
 paper has since then been, and will continue to be, pub- 
 lished by M. J. Walsh & Co., to whom, in the future, all 
 business communications must be addressed. Having just 
 moved our printing office into a more convenient locality, 
 it will be our endeavor hereafter, to present the Miscel- 
 lany in the most acceptable manner to our readers. Our 
 motto shall be 'Excelsior,' and our aim to present the 
 most readable Irish paper on this continent. We beg the 
 indulgence of our patrons for any short comings iu this 
 present number, and pledge ourselves to make the Miscel- 
 lany all that can be desired in point of typographical ex- 
 cellence. 
 
 Lowell.— Owen McNamara, No. 4 Gorham St., Lowell, 
 is our agent in that city for the sale of the Miscellany. 
 Sir. McN. also does business for the house of Williams & 
 Guyon in New York, and has constantly on hand and for 
 sale, passenger certificates and drafts. Old countrymen 
 residing in his vicinity, who are desirous of sending for, 
 or remitting money to, their friends, will find it for their 
 interest to give him a call. 
 
 Republication of our First Number.— Subscribers 
 desirous of being supplied with No. 1 of the Irish Miscellany, 
 should forward their orders to us, or to the nearest agent 
 immediately, as that number is now being reprinted, and 
 will be ready for distribution ne.xt week. 
 
 Oni! Aoents will confer a favor by sending in their 
 orders for No. 1 forthwith. 
 
 Salem.— Daniel J. Geary, No. 3 Newbury St., second 
 door from Essex St., Salem, is authorised to receive sub- 
 scriptions for the Miscellany, which may be found on 
 sale at his store. He has also a well selected stock of Cath- 
 olic books from the publishing bouses of Mr. Patrick Don- 
 ahoe, and Messrs. D. & J. Sadlicr, which he sells at the 
 publishers prices. 
 
 Fort Monroe, Va.— We have received a treasury note 
 for 916,00, from a few of the gallant second regiment of 
 artillery, stationed at Fort Jlouroe, Virginia, as their sub- 
 scriptions to the Miscellany. We are much indebted to our 
 military friends and wish them every success. 
 
 Sheet Music— Whe have been favored with various 
 copiesof sheet music, which we will take occasion to no- 
 tice more fully next week. 
 
122 
 
 IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 ST. PATRICK'S DAY CELEBRATIONS. 
 
 iiiii.Ai.i.i.riii A. 
 A corrnpuuUint » !»" uJupu the «ugKc»tivo uom- 
 dc-plumc uf 'llvtl Wvapuu,' MuiU us tin- fuUuw- 
 inn;— 
 
 I ly intiTTupttil by hearly ap]iIauM'. At the con- | athnn Trunibull'd cclfbratcd picture- of the ' 8tonD- 
 I eluaiuD of the lectun-, Mr. ItotxTt Tyler being | ing of (juvbec' Tlii» puliitiug in a jk rfuct copy of 
 loudly rnlird for, ennie forward nnd addressed the I tike oriKiiuil. The pruici|ial li^'uren riprcK'nted were 
 aiHcnibly iu a brief but hnpjiy manner. Aftrr ] Major Om. Montgomery, upheld in hin lart mo- 
 wliieh the audience retired, cbeeriiig loudly for , mentit by (.'ol. iJoiiald ('ainpt)cll ; f^uarter Major 
 
 The weather «a« nil that could be wi«hed. The I ^^''""- ^'''''eny, Tyler, and the Emnutt (iunrd.. Oc-neral and »econd in eon.n.and. Lying dead at 
 
 The Colonel then retired from the (tJiKe to the hall, the feet of Montgomery are bin Aid«-de-ceamp, 
 where the (juardji re-forrned, nnd biiuK joined by i Major* Chceacman and Maephenon, of I'hiiadeU 
 
 ■un nhone out brightly in the morning, but toward 
 noon withdrew IiIh Hilvery ray, leaving behind a 
 •oft, hazy atniophcro, which foreibly reminded one 
 of the mellow miato, to be found hanging oviT and 
 around the golden-tiutcd valleys and holy IuIIr of 
 dear old Irchuid. 
 
 At preciwly one o'clock I'. M., four companien 
 attached to the 2d Regiment of Infantry, 2d brig- 
 ade, lilt division of 1*. V., formed ui line on the 
 M'Cit kide of Franklin Square, right renting on Vine 
 Kt., in tlie following order : — C'ul. commanding, 1'. 
 W. Conroy nnd Statf; ISand; Irinh Volunteers, 
 Capt. 1». O. Kane; llibeniian (Jreenn, Capt. P. O. 
 Kane; Montgomery Guard*, -Vet. Capt. Jax. Ilar- 
 Tey, and la>t, though not least, that splenilid 
 corps of citizen soldien, the Kmmctt Guards, com- 
 manded by I.icut. .S. T. St. (^'lair. After being in- 
 spected by the Col. and .Staff, the line broke into 
 coliunu of HCctionH, by wheeling to the right, and 
 took up their line of march, ^-iHiting nearly every 
 portion of the city, eliciting the admiration of all 
 along the route, for their manly and soldierly bear- 
 ing. As they passed St Patrick's Church in 20th 
 
 the members of the Institute, escorted the Colonel 
 to his (juarters at the Girard House. Tims ended 
 the day in lliiladelphia — a day that will long be 
 remembered by those gallant hearts who had the 
 soul and manliness to honor it. All honor to the 
 four companies who did turn out and were not 
 deterred by threats from doing no ! 
 
 Ni;w YonK. 
 It is the fashion of the Young Friends of Ireland 
 to celebrate Ht. Patrick's Day by a ball nnd supper. 
 And the festivity of this year made no exception to 
 that of former times, either in the splendid manner 
 in which it was got up, or the delightfully sound 
 spirit which pervaded. 'Hie 'Vonng Friends' area 
 set of good patriotic Irishmen who never forget the 
 associations of the old land. T'hey form quite a nu- 
 merous society of a semi religious character. The 
 ball on St. Patrieks's night came off at the Apollo 
 lioums, Uowery, and was attended by a brilliant, 
 fasliionablc, and joyous company. TTie tupper pre- 
 ceded the ball, 'llic President of the soeic-ty, Hugh 
 
 St., they were saluted by the clergy and students ,-„r, n tj • i i i i .i, '. . 
 
 • . ' . ' u I *J fonneU Esq., presided, and prepared the toasts 
 
 ■waving their handkerchiefs. Although the turnout 
 ■was small, in comparison to what it might have 
 been, there being six other companies located in 
 this city of I'hiladelphia whose names are unmis- 
 takably Irish, yet nobly did these four companies 
 uphold the names they bear, and the honor and 
 credit of the Irish American soldier. 
 
 On arriving at Independence Square, the compa- 
 nies, by a flank movement, formed line of battle, 
 halted, faced to the front, and after receiving the 
 ■well merited thanks of Colonel for the soldierly 
 bearing and gentlemanly conduct, were dismissed; 
 the companies marching off the ground to the soul- 
 stirring strains of 'Patrick's Day,' 'Garryowen,' 
 etc. Scarce had the Kmmett's deposited their arms 
 in the rack, when they were invited to partake of 
 refreshments by that whole-souled Irishman, I'eter 
 Monaghan, Esq., the gentlemanly proprietor of the 
 Globe Hotel, in Sixth Street., an invitation which 
 the company gladly accepted. AN'hilst doing jus- 
 tice to the good things set before them, the corps 
 ■was waited on by a committee of the Catholic Phi- 
 lopatrian Literary Institute, and requested to act 
 as guard of honor to Col. Michael Doheny, of Xew 
 York, who was to lecture before the Institute that 
 evening in the Musical Fund Hall; subject, 'The 
 llock of Cashel — its Memories, Sages, .Saints, and 
 AVarriors.' 'ITic corps cheerfully acceeded to the 
 request of the committee, and marched to the hall, 
 ■where they were drawn up in open inverted order 
 to receive the Colonel, who on making his appear- 
 ance, was met at tlic door by Father Stroebel of 
 St. Mary's, and Mr. llobert Tyler, and escorted 
 through the lines. 'I'he Colonel then pau>ed in rear 
 of the lines and inspected the company thoroughly; 
 he then entered the lecture-room, followed by the 
 Emmett's, who were posted on the stage. The ap- 
 pcarancc of the company on the stage was hailed 
 ■with loud and long continued cheering. The scc-ne 
 
 with some excellent remarks. Among the speakers 
 of the evenijig was iJr. Shclton MacKenzic, now 
 literary editor of Forney's 'Press,' at Philadelphia. 
 The orator has just got married ; a fact which he 
 took care to inform liis audience in right jocular 
 style, for which ilacKenzie is famous. Wm. L. 
 Cole, Esq., of the ' Irish American," spoke to the 
 first toast in a style charac-terised by good taste, 
 purity of diction, ond that brevity which is the soul 
 of oratory as well as wit, especially at the supper 
 table, when the altars of Terpsichore are awaiting 
 the votive offerings of so many fair worshippers. 
 Mr. McMaster of the ' Freeman's Journal,' abio made 
 an elaborate and finished speech ; but the orator of 
 the evening was the Kev. Hugh T. Brady, of St. 
 Joseph's Church, Gth Avenue, the chaplain of the 
 Society. His address was teeming with patriotism 
 and good sense. His language was beautiful; not 
 too ornate, but glowing with fervor. Ilia speech 
 was indeed in all respects worthy of the occasion; 
 and that is saying everything in its favor. These 
 numerous guests besides those above commented. 
 Among thorn, Dr. Conway the coroner. Rev. Mr. 
 Hale, of St. Joseph's, Rev. Mr. Fagan of AV'illiams- 
 burgh, Capt. A\'. F. Lyons, and many other gentle- 
 men. The array of beautiful ■women ■was (as it al- 
 ways is at the Young Friends' celebrations) ptTfect- 
 ly da/.zling. The music was unexceptionable, and 
 on the whole, it is very doubtful if a more delight- 
 ful or appropriate celebration of .St. Patrick's Day 
 took place throughout the entire continent. 'ITie 
 dancing was kept up until ' daylight did appear,' 
 
 phia. On the right is seen, advancing at the head 
 of his column, Colonel 'I'hompson, of Pennsylva- 
 nia. In the centre stand* an Indian Chief, known 
 by the name of Col. J^ewis. 'I'he other figure* rep- 
 resented in the foreground, are tlajor Meigi, of 
 Conn., Cajitaiii Hcndcricks, the Virginia lliflcmen, 
 Captain AS'ard, Lieut's Humphries, Cooper and Og- 
 dcn. 'JTie citadel makes up the background. Clier- 
 ubs, representing Faith and Hope, on the comer* 
 of a chaste scroll, hold up the folds of the Ameri- 
 can and Irish flags ; an American eagle surmounts 
 the whole. Ileversc side — .St. Paterick, with crof- 
 iery in his left hand, and in his right, a cross, with 
 rays of light diverging therefrom. A daughter of 
 Erin, in flowing robes of white and green, is kneel- 
 ing, with hands uplifted towards the Saint a* if 
 supplicating his intercession to dispel the dark 
 clouds of Paganism, in ■uhich she is enshrouded. 
 The artist who executed the banners, deserves great 
 praise for the masterly manner in which he per- 
 formed his task. 'I'he ' Emmett Guards,' led by the 
 'Westville Comet Hand,' added much to the dis- 
 play by their fine military bearing. This wa« their 
 first appearance in public. 'X'heir uniform is dark- 
 blue dress coat, turned up, ■with buff on the lapels, 
 buff colored and slashed cuffs, blue pants, with 
 buff stripes ; belts, cartridge boxes, and bayonet 
 sheaths of white enameled leather, hats of U. 8. 
 regulation pattern, with white and blue fountain 
 plumes. 'ITie Guards numbered forty men, under 
 command of Capt. Thos. W. Cahill, and is com- 
 posed of menbers of the two companies, who were 
 disbanded by his 'Hindoo Excellency Covemor 
 Barebones Minor. Altogether, it was the flne»t and 
 largest display ever made by the Irishmen of the 
 City of Elms. The streets were crowded with «on» 
 and daughters of old Ireland, from the time the 
 procession moved, in the morning, until the deliv- 
 ery of the Oration, which finished the proceeding* 
 for the day. The loi.al press have been lavish in 
 their praise of our display. There was nothing to 
 mar the joyous celebration. 
 
 ■WOIICF.BTKK. 
 
 The exile*, resident in the heart of MassachtiRett*, 
 were not allowed to avow their nativity, and do 
 honor to the memor)' of Ireland's patron. The 
 Temperance societies paraded with full ranks, the 
 neat and respectable appearance of the membt-rs at- 
 tested the good which temperance and industry had 
 conferred upon them. The day was beautiful, and 
 a glorious sun enlivened the hearts of our fellow 
 countrymen with its mild and genial rays. Old 
 times and old scene* were dwelt upon by old friends, 
 and the recollection of days that arc gone to return 
 no more, brought sorrow to many an Irish heart. 
 However, the day was spent in a pleasant and agree- 
 able manner; and it is admitted by many a sneering 
 enemy, ttiat the Irishmen of Worcester never spent 
 the day better. 
 
 NEWnillVPORT. 
 
 In Ncwburyport, we attended church in the mom- 
 
 NF.w havkj:. 
 The following description of the splendid banner* 
 
 borne in the procession at Xew Haven, on the 1 7th 
 
 inst., was omitted last week, for v\ant of room : — 
 I'he Hibernian Provident Society's banner was of 
 
 pure white silk, (imported expressly for such pur- 
 Bt this moment viewed from the front was grand I poses) seven feet by six feet mx inches. Design- 
 indeed. The Guards with their handsome uniform, St. Patrick in the act of proving to the incredulous I ing, and having assisted at the adorable sacrifice, 
 and tall, black shakos, ornamented in Cront by a I mind of King Laogare and the Royal Household, the and asked the intercession of our Great Apostle, for 
 burnished sun-plate, which reflected back the bril- < Mystery of the Blessed Triaity, before the Halls of i the land of our birth and for ourselves, returned to 
 liont light of the chandeliers, presented an impos- , Tara ; lleverse Washington and Montgomery, j our respective homes, to think — with pleasure min- 
 ing background. Immediately in front stood the ] Genius of Erin, and Goddess of Liberty, spread ' gled with sadness — of other days and other times. 
 Colonel, whilst the whole assembly rose up, wav- I Eagle bearing in its beak the mottoes — ' E Pluribus ' In the evening we attended at the hall in Hale's 
 ing handkerchiefs, hats, and cheering most heartily. ' Unum ' and ' Erin go bragh.' The side* were richly , Court, where the 'N'ewburyport Young Men's Tem- 
 Quiet being at length restored, the Colonel com- gilt with Sliamrocks in the comers. I perance Sofiety,' were to perform the trial of the 
 
 ncnced one of the most instructive lectures it was I'he ' Montgomery Benevolent Society's ' banner | noble but unfortunate Robert Jlinmet. I'he time 
 ever our good fortune to hear, which wa* frequent- was seven feet by >ix fe»t. Design — A copy of Jon- appointed for the trial to commence ■na* 7 o'clock, 
 
ISIf MISCELLANY. 
 
 123 
 
 but long before tbat hour cvt-rj- ecat in the Ilall was | BRITISH RULE IN INDIA. I ciity, were two /nen who dared to stand up and con- 
 
 occupied, the aUUii were crowded, and a great ma- ' On the eTcning of March 17th the I/yccum Hall, front the IlcpreBcntative of ' BritUh Kulc in India.' 
 :.>• could not gain admittance. '■ Salcm, wa« cTowdcd to hear a lecture from Edward They were the ryjntre of all attraction— brilliant stars 
 
 At ten miiiutcs to eight the trial eommenecd, Fitzgerald, Keq., M. D., of that city, on the above in- ; of the first magnitude, that were to shed the luhtrc of 
 Some twenty-five perBonn took part as Judges, Ju- | tcrceling theme. James Lul.y, E>fj., presided. i their unrivalled genius and inspired eloquence on that 
 
 rors. Counsellors, 4:c., and so complete was their '< The lecturer commcnra;d by saying : — . vast assembly of kings, princ<;9, nobles, clergy, judges, 
 
 success, that they were requested to rejiroduce the ' ' There is a peninsula south of Asia so remarkably ambaseailors and commons of Koglan'l. Tlieir fume 
 piece the following evening, which they did with fertile and so liberally endowed by God with all that was world-widr^—tbey >vcrc the constitutional orau^rs 
 like resulu. is requisite to enable it to maintain its primiiivc gran- of monarchy; yet they were tlie advocates of the 
 
 The young men who performed the parts of '^'^"'' •••*' '' 'ccms absurd for man of any ra<«; or na- plundered, dejected viitims of Knulisli Rule in India. 
 
 Coumscl, Attorney Gc-neral and the Prisoner, acted '■"" "^ ^""^ "^ becoming a successful intruder. The accusers of Hastings — the defenders of justice 
 
 their parts well, and espctially dc*erve notice. The Clasped within the grasp of her saCTed Ganges and the enemies of tyranny — the avengc-rs of India's woes. 
 Prisoner, in dilivering his speech, turned round to I"'^"'. guarded by her Eastern and WesUjm Ghauts; were two Irishmen— Edmund Burke and Bicliard 
 the audiance and said, with emphasi*— ' for you for "'^ *''* "'"^'' '"-'"■ enow-f;'!"! HimaUya*, ri*ing in ma- Brinsley Sheridan, 
 whom I am proud to pc-rijih.' J'^''*^ grandeur, to which lordly man with all hU attri- : • When Edmund Burke spent several days relating 
 
 ITiiji produced a thrill of sorrow through the au- '^"^'^' ^"^ "'='^*'' ?^'' Wu^'hed. It is a peninsula wliosc the cruelties in India, the reciul of England's rnassa- 
 diance for the gloriou* patriot so trutlifuUy rt-pre- northern Ixiundary is secured by tliat natural super- cres almost sfjpped the pulsation of hi* heart— he fell 
 sented, and many an eye was moijrtened at thought "'""^"''e. having the earth for its foundation and the exhausted in his seat ; but by his side was IJichard 
 of him whose epitaph L un-A-ritU-n, But hi« epitaph ^'^-'^'"^ f"' >" eucda; while at its southern extrem- | Sheridan. He stowl up and spokfj— now look at the 
 is writu-n in tlie heart of every Irishman, and his ''?' '''*' ^'"^'^^ ^'^^^ receives the waters of its great ' governor of British India ! as Sheridan burst forth the 
 memory will exi»t f»rever. 
 
 Too much cannot be said in praise of the young 
 men of th« Temperance Society, for th*ir noble en- 
 deavors, ilay their Society flourish. 
 
 EobEftlCK. 
 
 arteries and feeds it with the commerce of the na- pent up indignation tlat Hastings' cruellies stirred 
 ivmn. j within him! See, how the words from India's advo- 
 
 ' A country, having all the varieties of every clime, ! cate makes him tremble! His roblxsries, treacheries, 
 every season, and ei.ery temperature, from the froiten ' forgeries, massa<;re8, violated treaties — the murder of 
 regions of its northern elevation to the more genial the people of Benares, the desecration of tlie Ifoly 
 
 clime of its centre and the tropical rays of its southern ; City of the Ganges, th« stifled moans of wretches 
 
 SALBM. : ^f'ore; a soil capable of producing all the necessaries writhing with pain in dungeons are recited by the a<l- 
 
 AfiCT the lecture by Ur. Fitzgerald, the members of ^""^ luxuries consumed by man, its surface interBef:ted : vocate. He reiterates the wild cries of those whom 
 tlie 'Irish Kea/ling lioom,' had a supper in their lialL ^T ^e/- navigable rivfrrs and canals, adorned with ' Hastings scourged with the poisoned branches of the 
 It was beautifully and tastefully dewrated. Plates ''^<= ""•'*' t^autiful lakes and wstly reservoirs, mter- , Bale tree and B.;chetta— the pitilul groans, facni*htd 
 were laiii f.jr fifty memUrg and their guesM. The ^iwrsed with mountains that seem to guard its con- cravings, claitc-ing of fetters, imploring appcaU of 
 cloth being removed, the President called upon the ^'^rvatisra with immovatJe tenacity and form barri- ' virgins dragged from their h^^ies, the heart-rending 
 toast master to give the regular toasts. Tlifi principal '^'"' ''^^ ^"'^ defiance U) the combined artillery of the cries of innocent children. Arnid these dense moun- 
 
 world. It is India or Hindostan. It is India, with | tain clouds of guilt, 'he culprit is consumed!' 
 
 j her architectural monuments, her inexhaustible tky- j After referring to the principal points of the present 
 
 enucs. The UindoO) were among the first to calculate j war in India and refuting the invented atrocities ag- 
 
 . eclipses. They understood the laws relating to the j cribed to the Sepoys, the Doctor conclude<l in the fol- 
 
 pUnfrtary system long before we did. They at a very ] lowing words:—' The struggling Hindoos have all my 
 
 eariy period excelhid in astronomical science, and sympathy. I say, success attend them ; they are 
 
 many of our mathematical calculations and rules in ; fighting for their homes and their country. Bepovs ! 
 
 , mensuratifm are borrowed from the Hindoos. They | courage and perseverance will gain your cause. God 
 
 I were proficient in Oriental literature.' 1 strengtlieti your arms to strike down your oppressors. 
 
 The doct/rt- then referred Ui the discoveries by Vasco j Hindoos, re-echo the rallying words of your murdered 
 
 De Gama — the early colom'zation of India by Porta- I Rajahs ; give no quarter to British rule! and oh, 
 
 gal, Holland and France. He stated that it was a what glad tidings, what goejd news to every Iri«h 
 
 Frenchman narnwl Dnpleix that first established Eu- 1 heart, to hear of the downfall and overthrow of British 
 
 ' ropean authority in India. He f<aid due att/.-ntion to ' rule in India.' 
 
 ' the (raving spirit of the first English traders, showed The wortliy doctor was, at tlw conclusion of his 
 i'O"" Frem;h arms and Fiench policy triumphed— \ lecture, of which tlie alwve is a mere outline, most 
 ytr,, responded to tli* seventh ; a^'d Mr."jUure^i , ""^^ I>'>pleix and I/a Bordi^e, from the River Krist- 1 enthu^Lasti^Uy applaud<d. 
 Uease, to tl«: memory of Sar^field. ilr. Thomas "^ *" ^'■'J'" ^ornorin. The le/rturer next gave Olive's j jholiah HABP.-ThiTeirg'ant little musical instra- 
 Qainn r S /-.nded to ' Our Ck-rgy.' < The Press' was '"''"'7 f""^ the day he left Shropshire in Engknd, I „,^, i, ^^^y ^a,jly ,^„„„,.,^.,j, p,,„.i,le a h^g, nar- 
 responded u, by J. ./. iJonahoe, Mr. W. A. Powers, ^ *''^' "^"""^^ "^ ""' "^glilwhood and the dun.;c of „,w Ux of thin deal, atwut thirty inch.« long, five 
 formeriy, I believe, of CbarUstown, but now of .Salem, , ^'''"^ '^^'""^- °""' '"= f"* ^" "^"^ ^ ^"^ ^'^" "" '*"' '^'^^ , broad, and one and thre-.-fourths deep, with a circle in 
 res,A,nded to ti^ toast of ' Our Sister .Societie*.' , Jfo'-emt>er, 1744. He descnt,ed his intrigues with ,,,e ^j,,,,,,, ,,( ,,,^ ^^^^..^ .j.j^^ ,„ ,,^|,y ^,,„„, ,^^^ ,„^,,, 
 
 Spetehes were made, and songs song by «--veral , ^/[^"^f ! J'^" ^'^^J!^'^ f"!['^ZT'..!".^"^^^^''"'^ \^'^ " ''""■ '" diameter, pierr^d with small hole, 
 ottier gentlemen ; all was liarmooy and good cheer. 
 Ho liappy were tlie company in the interchange of 
 seDtiments and recolUciions of tlie old land, iJiatit was 
 three o'cl'A;k in the morning when the Vice President 
 moved tiie diair be vacated. Mr. Foley was ilien (billed 
 lo tJie scene, and a vote of tliauks passed to tJie I'resi- 
 
 ones were ; 
 
 1. — ^Th* day we celebrate. 
 
 2. — The land of our tatti«-rs. 
 
 2.— Our adoj/t":d couulry. 
 
 4.— 'Hie Prwdent of ttie L'nlt*^ States. 
 
 6^— TlK Aroijr aiid Xavy of the Lnited Statea. 
 
 C. — Tlie roeioory of Wajthington . 
 
 7.— Tlie memory of O'Coniieil. 
 
 S. — ^Tlie laeai'jry of fSarsfleld. 
 
 S.— Civil and liKligiouM liberty. 
 
 n^llMtVntf.. 
 
 The first was responded to 1/y Dr. E. Fitzgerald ; 
 th« sectmd by Mr. John Siieridan ; the tliird by Mr. 
 John Conway, Jr. In response to the fourth, Mr. 
 James Harding sang the ' Star Spaugled Banner '; 
 Mr. Stephens resfKindcd to tlte fifth ; and ilr. Foley 
 sang tlie ' Red White and Blue.' Mr. Bums of iJan- 
 
 wiih Omichund ; how he gained the battle of Plasscy; ! Along the up,«;r side of the U,x are seven, ten or mor» 
 ma/le Michund his victim, by forging A/lmiral Wat- ' ^,rU,^g„f ^erv fine gut, str«;tched over bridge, at e<u;h 
 son's name, and put Snrajah Dowlah to death in a | ^j^ ij^,. „^ C^dge of a fiddle, and screwed up or re- 
 secret chamf>er. Ever sinr:e the fatal day that the I ^^^^ „ith screwpins. If this instrument i* place/l in 
 monarch, Surajah Dowlah, was a«sassinate/l, Eng- I ^ ^^„^„t „f ^j, ,,,^„ ,i^ „i„d ^„ ,^„^,, ,^^^^ j^ 
 Und's fK.li<y ha-1 Wn one c/mnect-^ chain of dewit, ' „ri„jj, ^-.th freedom-as at a window, with tiie .ash 
 
 deot; alljointd hands, sang ' Auld Lang 8vne,' and "ppreixiifm. {or^'^, i,\un4<:r,4'^o\MU,t, and murder.' ju„ raised la give the air a/Jmission— there will l« 
 
 went liotne ; shewing bv tl«:ir excellent m^ner and , ''''"* ''-'^'"'^ challenged tlie worid u, produrx: one man ' 
 
 der'^m, that they were wonhy umt of their Patron \ *'"'" 'ool'i jo^'f/ ' British Hule in India.' In refer- 
 
 gaiat, I ring to this point, he said ' he had for twiwty years 
 1 ■^-■m^* I searched f<,r an Act of British Rule that could t>e jus- 
 How TO Make Moskv— Let the business ofltifiedin India. Not as much as a dcx-nt preten'* 
 
 every l>ody else alone, and attend to your own. Don't t c<.iuld he find for the p'jiicy since the d.ir England first 
 
 bcr what you don't want. Vv, every hour to advan- | gave her aid to Sahurjee, a prince of Tangort on the, 
 
 tage, and study ut make even leisure hours useful. ' Unks of the Coleron, until the day she blew the 
 
 Tliink twice Ufwe you throw away a shilling — re- ' txxlie. of the Sepoys in fragments from the cannon's 
 
 memfjer you will have another to make for it. Find ' month, British rule in India is dr<;nch< d » itJi tlie blovi 
 
 recreat'wn in hj^^king over your babin<«». Boy low, ' of millions, and the waters of the Ganges and Indus 
 
 •ell fair, and take care of tlie profits. I»ok ov<r your ' Mold not clear her from its guilt. 
 
 books regolarly, and if you find an error, trare It out. I Warren Hastings, as Governor G';neral of India, 
 
 Should a stroke of misforttine come on you in trade, ' came next. Here the Doctor f<aid a just tribute to 
 
 retrench, work harder, but never fly the track; con- the honest and indostrious anizeos of England. Af- 
 front dlflS'-uIties with unfinching perseverance, and ' ter des'Tibing the charges on which Hastings was im- 
 
 tbey will disappear at ta't; though you should fail in peswAed, and giving a description of Westminsltr 
 
 the struggle, yoo will be honored ; bot shrink from ' HaU and London, on the forenoon of Feb, 1.3, 177H, ' 
 
 the task, and you will be despised. ' be said—' lo the midst of all this pomp, all this maj- 
 
 produced a kind of wild, melancholy music, extremely 
 ! cliarmiog to hear ; the blast sometimes bringing out all 
 the tones in full chorus, and at oilurrs sinking them to 
 the softest murmurs. 
 
 ' Gbeat OmoiKAi, Stohv.' — A dark frown over- 
 spres/1 the liaodwjrae and courtly features of Fernando 
 the R/ivcr. ' Why, why,' he asked, brandishing his 
 silver han'lled sword furi^iusly arouud, ' wilt no» be- 
 lieve me, my beauti/>os Maria de Argyle ! By this 
 good twitri I swear I love thee — truly, wildly, f>a«- 
 tiooately love thee ! Then why stand so coldly aloof 
 from till, bosom whii b it bursting for thee 'i The 
 Ijeautiful girl essayed to speak but could not. ' Ha,' 
 exclaimed Femsodo the Kover, and a sendonic .mile 
 lit up his faoe, ' tlK^u lov'tt another ?' ' No,' slie trem- 
 blingly yet with dignity replied. ' Then why tiot come 
 to ihis bosom (' wildly repeated the IJover. 'Because, 
 sir,' she replied, dra»ing herself up to her full beij^t, 
 
 ' I'm kIiLi.1V TEE A hUlV!l>i4 '.' 
 
124 
 
 lUISII MISCELLANY. 
 
 Wrillen lor the MlMcllany. 
 A FAREWELL TO IRELAND. 
 
 BV CUAllLKH r. o'llANLOW. 
 
 My own, luy native liuid, good night, 
 
 I'm jjoiiij} far from tlicc — 
 Ko otlit-r laud oau tccni as bright 
 
 Or havo such charms for nu-; 
 Though doomed In other cilmcs to roam, 
 
 For Ibrluue and for lame, 
 I'll nv'er forget my Inland home, 
 
 llut lore thee still the same. 
 
 Upon the gallant ship I stand 
 
 As she plows the ocettu blue, 
 And sadly gajic on the distant laud, 
 
 Jtcceediug fast from view. 
 And oh! how oft I vainly long 
 
 To be cheerful and resigned ; 
 Uy bosom still will heave a sigh 
 
 For the loved ones left behind. 
 
 Farewell! farewell! forc'er I fear 
 
 An exile doom'd to be, 
 Yet fondly thraugh each changing year 
 
 My heart will cling to thee. 
 When by oppression forced to roam 
 
 From the land I fain would save; 
 J go to s<'ulc a peaceful home 
 
 In the laud of the I'ree and brave. 
 
 Farwelll farewell! and may the gifts 
 
 Of heaven on thee descend ; 
 And from thy vales and mountain rifts, 
 
 The hymns of peace ascend. 
 May tyranny's relentless grasp 
 
 Enslave thy sous no more, 
 And fh!cdom, with her blessings clasp 
 
 Thy sea-girt, shamrock shore. 
 
 THE CLOSING SCENES OF THE KANSAS DE- 
 BATE IN THE SENATE. 
 
 The debate just closed in the .Senate was one of 
 most exciting and important in the history of 
 American politics. In the lives of many of the 
 Senators it will be a point to which the future can- 
 vassers of their fame will look back. The crowds 
 that attended, during the closing days will fondly 
 connect their memories with this great struggle in 
 the parliamentary histor)' of their common country. 
 The morning and night scenes of the 22d March 
 are drawn by a brilliant hand in the AVashingtou 
 States, The graphic description will find its way 
 into many a ladies scrap-book, not less than into 
 the common-plaee-book of the politician. The bi- 
 ographer of Senator Douglass will make a note of 
 it. 
 
 The scene presented in the Senate was one of the 
 most brilliant and exciting we have ever witnessed. 
 No sooner were the galleries cleared, when the re- 
 cess was taken, than the crowds who expected 
 Douglas would speak, all the morning patiently 
 owaited a chance to get in, filled up the seats. At 
 five minutes after five, the galleries were empty; in 
 five minutes more they were filled with a brilliant, 
 fashionable, and intelligent array. In the gentle- 
 man's gallery^ the people were literally walking on 
 each other. ITiey formed a human pjTamid reach- 
 ing up to the windows; on the inside sills of which 
 some persons were fortunate enough to be lifted. 
 
 The reporters' gallery was captured by gentlemen 
 who made a press, though they did not belong to 
 it, and rendered it utterly impossible for our friends 
 of the quill, save with one or two oxccptions, to 
 more than preserve themselves from furnishing a 
 local item of ' crushed to death ' to their neighbor. 
 For two hours tne throng of people were wedged 
 together in expectancy pf the great speech. Some 
 ladies brought books, others their knitting ; and 
 thus, having early secured .seats, industriously killed 
 the time betn'cen 5 and 7 p. m. 
 
 ANTien the chamber was called to order, G win and 
 Seward simultaneously arose with the same pur- 
 pose — to move the admission of the ladies to the 
 floor of the Senate. It was agreed to. The doors 
 ■were thrown open, and a perfect flood of beauty, 
 bearing on the tide all manner of broken hoops and 
 draggled crinoline, poured into the chamber. In a 
 
 few moments every spot was occupied ; while in all 
 the lobbies such discontent arose from the unac- 
 commodated crowds of gentlemen and ladies there, 
 tlmt several times the Chair was called on to de- 
 spatch olUeers to allay the disorder. 
 
 The appearance of Senator Douglas was the token 
 for a roiuid of applause. The sight must huvc been 
 deeply gratifyidg to him, as it was entrancing to 
 that mother and daughter,* who, from the report- 
 ers' galler)', looked upon the scene with that anxious 
 pleasure which might tell the physiognomist that 
 they, of all the great and brilliant crowd, had the 
 deepest and most exalted interest in it. 
 
 Kor three hours Senator Douglass spoke. Com- 
 mencing calmly with an expression of doubt of his 
 own physical strength to carry him through llie duty 
 before liim, lie warmed up by degrees, lifting the head 
 and heart of the multitude widi him, until one almost 
 felt as If he were in Europe during the revolutions, 
 listening to some powerful tribune of the people ex- 
 pounding their rights and inspiring them to such ac- 
 tion as made America a republic. He went through 
 his public course. The jieriod embraced some of the 
 most prominent and vital acts in the history of 
 Araerk'un politics. lie showed, not as a defence, but 
 in a proud, manly, and almost defiant spirit, what his 
 acts had been ; he echoed his own words ; he was 
 proud of his deeds ; — deeds and words which were 
 recognized portions of the policy of the Democratic 
 party. 
 
 As he proceeded with emphatic and measured digni- 
 ty to define his position in the present crisis — what the 
 duty of a Senator from a sovereign State was, and the 
 responsibility he owed to the people whose voices cul- 
 minated in him — lie held the multitude chained witlt 
 that peculiar olociuencc which, based on common 
 sense and the rights of man, reaches its destination 
 without the aid of winged rhetoric. Such eloquence 
 does not dazzle, it convinces ; it does not bold the 
 breath, but makes one breathe freer, for it cheers the 
 heart. 
 
 The great burst of applause which broke from the 
 galleries and rolled over the chamber, was a nobler 
 testimony to the principles enunciated by the eloquent 
 Senator than might be written. He was there the de- 
 fender of the people, the Representative of a State, and 
 not the vassal of the Executive, nor the valet of the 
 Administration, to do its bidding without consulting 
 his own judgment, or the interests of his people. Ho 
 stood forth as the champion of State sovereignty. This 
 Union was not an empire or absolute monarchy, in 
 which the Slates were but provinces, without individ- 
 ual and distinct and different rights. It was a confed- 
 eracy of nations, each one of which was ecjually repre- 
 sented in the Senate. 
 
 As he exposed the fallacy of m.iking Lccomptonism 
 a test quesiion with the Democracy, and claimed the 
 right to vote against it, the expression of the fiices 
 around gave a verdict in his favor. With admirable 
 adroitness and force, he asked if Brown of Mississippi, 
 was read out of the party fordill'ering with the neutral- 
 ity policy of the Administration ; if Toombs was read 
 out for opposing the Army Bill; if Mason would bo 
 expelled for not sv\'allowing the Pacific railroad ! 
 Why, then, shoulil he be expelled, read "out, denounc- 
 ed as a traitor, because he, like those senators, thought 
 for himself on an Administration measure 1 The ef- 
 fect was electric, and was greatly indebted to the man- 
 ner of the Senator from Illinois. He grew in enthusi- 
 asm with ilic progress of his subject, and up to the last 
 sentence in which he gracefully prayed the indulgence 
 of the Senate to oveKook the style of his argument, as 
 his recent illness prevented it being ."nore perfect and 
 satisraclory to himself — up to the last word the mass 
 of people who heard him were not only patient, but 
 delighted. 
 
 * Evidently Mrs. Douglas and her mother.— [Ed. I. M. 
 
 There is a rule in a debating society that we have 
 heard of, which is, ' that any gentleman wishing to 
 speak more than half aii hotii, shall have a room to 
 himself.' 
 
 CASTLE ROCHE. 
 A I.KOEND or LOUTH. 
 
 Of idl countries, Ireland abounds the most in tradi- 
 tionary lore. Other nations may preserve from gen- 
 eration to generation details (too insignificant for the 
 pen of the historian) of those persons or jilaces con- 
 nected with their national history, but with us, there 
 is scarcely a spot without its own peculiar legend. It 
 is very rare to find mountain or river, glen or rock, 
 or plain, that has not its own individual tale of unfor- 
 tunate love, daring adventure, or singular murder, 
 and still more often, witchcraft, or supernatural ap- 
 pearances. The natural effect of tliis is that tlia 
 scenery of Ireland (diversified as it is) receives added 
 charms from those wild traditijns. Wherever we 
 journey ' throughout the length and breadth of the 
 land,' the same spirit of romance pervades the legend- 
 ary stories of the peasantry, imparting rich and varied 
 j associations to the mind of the beholder. 
 
 Though many of our legends havo been presented 
 I to the public, still there are innumerable others of ex- 
 treme beauty, which are yet shedding ' their sweetness 
 on the desert air;' the fact being that there are stories 
 told around the hearthstone of un Irish cabin, which 
 for rich and racy humor, thrilling pathos, and vivid 
 imagination, can find no equal in the sumptuous 
 drawing-rooms of the great. Xears havo gone by 
 since the following was related to me; but there are 
 some things which, once heard, can never be forgot 
 ten, and the Legend of Castle Koche is one of ti.-ose. 
 
 Several centuries have now elapsed since a foreign 
 vessel landed on the coast of Louth, a stranger lady 
 of surpassing beauty, accompanied by one female at- 
 tendant. 
 
 The mariners waited only to disembark the various 
 boxes and cases which belonged to the lady, and put 
 to sea again, without holding the slightest communi- 
 cation with any of the loungers on the beach, who, of 
 course, regarded these mysterious proceedings witli 
 even more than usual curiosity. The two strangers 
 stood motionless on the beach for some time, watching 
 the progress of the receding vessel, and then, after a 
 moment's conference in an unknown language, the 
 servant approached one who appeared to be the most 
 respectable amongst tlie bystanders, and with much 
 difhculty made him understand that her lady was de- 
 sirous to procure a lodging for the night, and to liavo 
 her luggage removed thereto, adding that whoever 
 performeil this service should be well rewarded. 
 
 The man thus addressed stepped forward, and with 
 all the courtesy of an Irish peasant, (even of those 
 days,) ofl'ered to have the lady's elfeets removed to 
 his own house, which was the best to be had in the 
 vicinity, and where herself and her attendant should 
 receive every accommodation in the power of himself 
 or his family to bestow. The ludy willingly con- 
 sented, (as the man's appearance was highly prepos- 
 sessing,) and the peasant, assisted by some of his 
 neighbors, removed the luggage to his owu dwelling, 
 while the strangers followed in silence. 
 
 Having taken uji her abode in the house of the 
 worthy Cormac, the lady employed her time in exam- 
 ining the surrounding country. She daily walked 
 forth, attended by her maid, with Cormac acting as 
 guide, in order to make herself thoroughly ucquoiatcd 
 with every portion of the district. 
 
 Such an arrival could not fall to exciie the carios- 
 ity of the people in the neighborhood, and, conse- 
 quently, nothing was talked of for many days, but the 
 unknown, her beauty, her supposed wealth, and above 
 all, the mystery by which she was surrounded. It 
 became known (through the medium of Cormac and 
 his family) that she was called the Lady Christina ; 
 that the name of the maid was Erica, and that they 
 were total strangers in the country. But as to whence 
 they came, or for what purpose, no one could gain the 
 slightest information. 
 
 At length the Lady Christina had it spread abroad 
 that it was her purpose to build a castle on a certain 
 waste common in the neighborhood, and that she 
 would take proposals for the work for one month to 
 come. Architects flocked in accordingly from far and 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 125 
 
 near, with plans ; and no marvel that they should, for 
 tlie meed to be awarded to tlio successful candidate 
 ■was none other than the hand of the fair Cliristina. 
 It was strange to see the noble lady seated eacli day in 
 judjpnent, before her a tabic strewed with architectural 
 sketches, and standing around in respectful silence, 
 and entranced admiration, their various authors — 
 while she herself looked a queen, as well in her stern 
 and commanding beauty, as in the calm, collected 
 dignity of her mien. 
 
 Day after day were the plans rejected, and iho aspi- 
 rants dismissed in bitter disappointment ; the month 
 was almost expired, and still nothing decisive had been 
 done, when a young man arrived Irom a great dis- 
 tance, and, on jireseuting his design, had the superlative 
 happiness of having it accepted. 
 
 The Lady Christina congratulated the youth upon 
 his good fortune, and expressed a desire that the work 
 should proceedjWith as little delay as might be con- 
 venient, reminding him that his jreward, was her own 
 hand, at the same time holding it out to him. The 
 young architect took that beautiful hand, and respect- 
 fully touching it to his lips, vowed that no exertion 
 should be wanting on his part. If the good people 
 around were before surprised, they were now perfectly 
 bewildered. What could induce one so lovely, so rich, 
 and evidently so high-born, to promise herself in mar- 
 riage to an humble mechanic, who was, moreover, en- 
 tirely destitute of personal attractions 1 They could 
 not penetrate the secret, so they were obliged (as the 
 curious most generally are) to leave it for time to un- 
 ravel. 
 
 All went on well, during the time occupied in the 
 erection of the castle. Christina and her attendant 
 visited the spot at least once a day, and, by conversing 
 with the young man (whose name was O'Brien) and 
 alluding frequently to her promise, she so excited at 
 once his love and his most sanguine hopes, that the 
 work sped onward with almost supernatural swiftness, 
 as the poor youth thought no labor too great, nor no 
 exertion too arduous, when it gratified his adored mis- 
 tress. But though the Lady Christina used every art 
 in order to induce O'Brien to hasten the completion of 
 his task, yet her personal demeanor as regarded him 
 was never familiar ; she at all times preserved towards 
 him an air of condescention (even in her kindest 
 moods) that prevented either himself or others from 
 forgetting her superiority. Such conduct towards one 
 whom she had promised to marry, added another link 
 to the mysterious chain of inexplicabilities which sur- 
 rounded this extraordinary woman, but as people could 
 not even guess her actuating motives, why they were 
 fain ' to hear, and see, and say nothing.' 
 
 As for O'Brien, what was so visible to others was 
 quite unnoticed by him. He saw the reserve main- 
 tained towards him by the Lady Christina, but in it he 
 only beheld the natural pride of rank, and, shutting 
 his eves to the truth, went on most perseveringly in 
 his endeavors to gain the favor of his mistress by ex- 
 pediting the building of her castle; imagining, with 
 all the wonted hopefulness of true love, that be was 
 the real and true possessor of her secret affection. 
 
 At length the work was finished, and, as the Lady 
 Christina had not visited the castle as usual on that 
 day, O'Brien sent a respectful message, requesting the 
 honor of a visit from her, in order that he might have 
 her opinion, now that all was completed. 
 
 'Come hither, Erica!' said Christina to her maid, 
 ' I wish thee to bear my answer to O'Brien, as I have 
 unwittingly dismissed his messenger ! Greet him well 
 from me, and say that I will meet him on the battle- 
 ments of the castle at the hour of eleven this night, 
 as 1 would fain have no listeners astir, who might be 
 come undesired witnesses of our interview, which 
 must be a private one. As for my inspecting the work, 
 it is quite superfluous, since I have marked almost 
 stone by stone it.s progress, and am well pleased with 
 its conclusion ! Haste thee, good Er 
 need of thee, on thy return !' 
 
 The maiden set forth on her errand, and, having 
 reached the castle, took O'Brien a little apart, and de- 
 
 livered her lady's message, which rejoiced the archi- 
 tect beyond measure. The secrecy with which the in- 
 terview was to be accompanied proved to him beyond 
 all doubt, that the beautiful stranger was about to rat- 
 ify her promise. In the fullness of his joy, he snatched 
 Erica's hand, and kissing it with passionate fervour, 
 vowed she was the sweetest of all waiting-maids — that 
 she was theangelof promise, and so forth, — and wound 
 up by saying that she might rely on his friendship, 
 and consequent good offices with the Lady Christina, 
 when he should have the felicity of becoming her hus- 
 band. 
 
 Erica protested her faith in O'Brien's sincerity, and 
 having reminded him of the appointed hour, took her 
 leave. 
 
 ' Aye, thou doest well, and wisely, to make interest 
 with me, master architect!' she said within herself, as 
 she retraced her steps homeward — ' I have no doubt 
 but thou would'st perform thy promise, but methinks 
 thou art somewhat premature, with regard to that 
 same promise, seeing that thou hast only my lady's 
 word for the realizing thy ambitious hopes— i' faith, 
 good youth, thou leanest on a broken staff! Thou 
 knowest but little of the Lady Christina ! It has been 
 said of old — 'Beware ye of wolves in sheeps' clothing' 
 — but thou, fond fool ! heed'st not that precept — thou 
 could'st not dream of thine idol being such as that 
 ravenous animal! But no matter— it concerns not 
 Erica!' So mused Christina's confidant, and such 
 was the sum total of her reflections on the subject. 
 
 ■way to the battlements, her companions following 
 in silence. 
 
 The dawn was close at hand when Lady Christi- 
 na returned ■with her maiden to the cottage, which 
 they entered ■«-ith as much caution as they had be- 
 fore used in their departure, and immediately re- 
 tired to seek repose. 
 
 The architect ■n'as never seen again I Erica told 
 some of the neighbors in confidence that her mis- 
 tress and he had quarrelled, and that he had de- 
 parted, a disappointed man, for his far-distant 
 home. He could not bear, she said, to remain an 
 object of ridicule in the scene of his his high-raised 
 hopes, and subsequent failure. 
 
 People listened to the story — some ■were inclined 
 to doubt its truth, but the greater part believed it, 
 and the matter was soon forgotten. There was no 
 one sufiicicntly interested about O'Brien to make 
 any strict inquiry; thus, no one ever suspected (the 
 real truth) that the unfortunate dupe of blind in- 
 fatuation had been hurled from the height of the 
 castle ■walls by the hand of the ■woman he adored, 
 and that she had subsequently assisted her worthy 
 associate to lay the senseless remains in a grave 
 which they themselves hollowed out, ■n'ith much 
 labor, by the aid of sharp stones found near the 
 building ! 
 
 Such was the fate of O'Brien ! such the reward 
 of his ingenious architectural design, and of his 
 
 Selfish people generally conclude every cogitation clever and expert execution thereof! And yet the 
 m the same manner. It may be of the last importance extraordinary woman who cut short his thread of 
 to another !-they may have it in their power (as was | life, would have been astonished if any one had 
 
 called her a murderess; since she considered her 
 
 the case with Erica) to benefit that other, and save 
 him, it may be, from some great calamity— but no 
 matter — it is not their ovv u business — let each one pro- 
 vide for himself ! 
 
 On reaching Cormac's cottage. Erica found her 
 mistress alone, pacing the small apartment with firm 
 and measured step. She turned quickly, as the maid- 
 en entered — 
 
 ' Ha, Erica ! why did'st thou tarry so long V 
 ' In truth, madam, I could not break away from 
 master O'Brien, until he had thanked me a thousand 
 times— for what I cannot tell, unless it were for being 
 the bearer of that consoling message ! It was, more- 
 over, my own interest to remain, an' it please your 
 ladyship, for I have received the worthy architect's 
 promise, that, when he is your ladyship's lord and 
 master, I shall never be dismissed thy service, unless 
 it be at my own request.' 
 
 '-Well ! I hope thou did'st not fail to thank the gen- 
 erous maker of those fine promises. Say, damsel I 
 art thou fully sensible of their real value V 
 
 As Christina spoke thus, she fixed her piercing dark 
 eyes on Erica's fVice, with a look of earnest inquiry. 
 ' Yes, lady !' replied the darasei ; ' Erica knows well 
 the probability that exists of the noble Christina giv- 
 ing her hand and troth to yonder man of plans and 
 parchments !' 
 
 This was said with a most significant air, and the 
 lady was satisfied that her crafty tire-woman under- 
 stood her. 
 
 A conference of about half an hour followed, (car- 
 ried on, however, in so low a tone as to be inaudible, 
 even at the distance of a few feet,) at the conclusion 
 of which, the damsel proceeded to her usual avoca- 
 tions, with an air of careless indiflcrence on her fea- 
 tures, which completely baffled those who had listened 
 without the door during the consultation, in hopes of 
 hearing some words spoken incautiously loud,— for- 
 getting, as they did so, that the strangers used a for- 
 eign tongue, in their intercourse with each other— in 
 truth, they spoke but very little at any time of the 
 language of the countrv. 
 
 In the dead of the night it ivas, that Christina 
 and her faithful attendant stole cautiously from the 
 for I have | cottage, in order to meet O'Brien. They reached 
 the castle in safety, and found the architect (punc- 
 tual to the moment) awaiting their anival at the 
 gate of the court-yard. Christina herself led the 
 
 crime as being perfectly authorized by the ambi- 
 tion of the youth, in aspiring to her hand. She 
 believed herself fuUy justified, therefore, in taking 
 the most summary vengeance on the audacious of- 
 fender, forgetting (or at least choosing to forget) 
 that she had herself given rise to, and encouraged 
 those ■wild hopes, the entertaining of ■\vliich had 
 become fatal— followed, as they -were, by a penalty 
 so fearful. 
 
 The next step ■(vas to have the castle fitted up, 
 and for this purpose Christina commissioned Cor- 
 mac to procure the necessary furniture, a list of 
 which she gave him, as he could not be supposed 
 to be well acquainted vfith the various appendages 
 of rank and fortune. 
 
 At length all the preparations being completed 
 (the engaging of servants included,) the Lady 
 Christina and her maid. Erica, took up their abode 
 in the castle. The fame of the Unknown (as she 
 ■was called) soon spread throughout the country. 
 Her ■ivondi-ous beauty, together ivith the impene- 
 trable mystery ■ivhich accompanied all her actions, 
 excited such amazing interest that many of the 
 surrounding gentry (more especially the unmarried 
 amongst them) ■would have given half their estates 
 to discover her origin, or (even in their present ig- 
 norance regarding her) to be enabled to form her 
 acquaintance. 
 
 Their desires on this head, had, however, no 
 prospect of being gratified, for the Lady Christina 
 saw no company at home, and very rarely quitted 
 the confines of her own dwelling. Notwithstand- 
 ing her apparent aversion to society, there were not 
 wanting some of the neighboring chiefs, who went 
 so far as to send presents to the Lady of the Castle, 
 (by which title she was universally distinguished,) 
 by ■way of propitiatory offerings. Christina re- 
 turned the most polite answers that her imperfect 
 acquaintance ■with the language would allo^w, to 
 each of these persevering sui'ors, but she took good 
 care never to extend her gratitude so far as an invi- 
 tation to her castle, the gates of ivhich not all their 
 alluring bribes had power to open. 
 [To be Continued.] 
 
 Beauiy, devoid of grace, is a mere hook ■without 
 the bait. 
 
126 
 
 IKISII MISCELLANY. 
 
 MISCELLANEA. 
 
 Beware of tha tlireo l)'s— Dirt, Debt and the Devil. 
 
 ■Jack, jour wife is not so pensive as (lie used to be." 
 ' No, ehe left ilmt olf, and is now expensive.' 
 
 Mirth slioiild be the emhroidory of the conversation, 
 not the web of it ; and wit the ornament of tlic mind, 
 not the fiirnilnre. 
 
 ' Do you like novels V asked Miss Fit/gerald of her 
 backwoods lover. ' I can't soy,' he replied ; ' I never 
 aid any, but I tell you I am death on old 'possum.' 
 
 When we are in a cundiiion to overthrow falsehood 
 and error, we ought not to do it with vehemence or 
 e.\uUaiion, but lay open the truth with mildness, and 
 so overcome evil with good. 
 
 An old miser, who had a footman that had a good 
 appetite, and ate fa.'it, hut was slow when sent on a mes- 
 eap;, used to wish that his servant would eat with his 
 feet, and walk with his teeth. 
 
 ' There is a secret belief amongst some men that God 
 is displeased with man's happiness ; and in conse- 
 quence they slink about creation, ashamed and afraid 
 to enjoy anything.' 
 
 In the streets of Leicester one day, Dean Swift was 
 accosted by a drnnken weaver, who, staggering against 
 his reverence, s liil, ' I have been spinning it out.' ' Oh, 
 yes,' said the Dean, ' 1 see you have ; and now you are 
 reeling it home.' 
 
 A Quaker having sold a fine looking, but blind horse, 
 asked the purchaser : 
 
 ' Well, my friend, dost thou see any fault in him ■?' 
 
 ' No,' was the answer. 
 
 ' Neither will he ever sec any in thee,' said old 
 Broadbrim. 
 
 ' If I am not at home from the party to-night at ten 
 o'clock,' said a husband to his better and bigger half, 
 • don't wait for me.' 'That I won't,' said the lady 
 f igniflcanily, ' I won't wait ; but I'll come for you.' 
 lie returned at ten precisely. 
 
 ' What arc you going to give me for a Christmas 
 present V asked a gay damsel of her lover. 
 
 • I have nothing to give but my humble self,' was the 
 rcjdy. 
 
 ' The smallest favors gratefully received,' was the 
 merry response of the lady. 
 
 A French nobleman, who had been satirized by Vol- 
 taire, meeting the poet soon after, gave him a hearty 
 drubbing. Voltaire immediately flew to the Duke of 
 Orleans, told him how he had been used, and begged 
 he would do him justice. ' Sir,' replied the duke, with 
 a significant smile, ' it has been done you already.' 
 
 Men o( the firmest nerves and of the most estab- 
 lished principle, says an exchange, have need of occa- 
 sional repose, in order to rccniit their forces, and to 
 recover their due tone of both body and mine. The 
 stoutest frame is impaired, and the heartiest virtues 
 grow sickly and languid by unremitting exertion — and 
 what Lord Bacon says of silence, that it is the rest of 
 soul, and refreshed attention, is here more generally 
 applicable; and it is in the silence and calm of retreat 
 that all our powers, natural and moral, are invigor- 
 ated, and made prompt for further service. 
 
 A D V E R T I S E M K N T S . 
 
 THE DAVIDSON SYRINGE. 
 
 Manufactured by 
 
 C. n. DAVIDSON k CO. 
 
 No. 40 City Square, 
 
 Cli&rlostowiia - . . Mass 
 
 T/iu Initrummt remrtd lite Muhert prmnum at the Pair of the 
 American Inil.lute, Cryital Palace, Snc York, IMV. The jrnijes 
 ■were D. Meredith Reese, M. D., LL. D.j J. M. C'amochan, .M. 
 D.; and H.nrv O. Cox, U. D. 
 
 Persons snbject to H\BiTUAt CoMSTIPATloir, will derive 
 ^eat benellt from the d.iily use of this in«tr\l»ient, and fre- 
 quently effect a radical cure of the dimcully, as well as avoid 
 the con.tant use of cathartics, which afford only temporary 
 relief, and debilitate, while the injection acta as an invif;orant. 
 
 {(3-For Sale by all Wnolcsale I)ruf»i»ts, Surgical Instru- 
 ment Makers, and India Rubber Dealers, throughout the 
 X'nitcd States, and by Retail Druggbti and Apotliccariea 
 everywhere.. 
 
 For H(}sdjvi«ds akd Wives. — In the flash and 
 brilliancy of early married love, the first faint impres- 
 sions of the future husband and wife eoniinenco. As 
 lovers, their separate dispositions wore in a state of 
 constant antagonism ; as a wedded pair, they are pre- 
 sumed to be amalgamated, and form a new society, 
 which recognizes mutual pleasures, mntual interests, 
 advantages and concessions, as the basis of their mu- 
 tual ha|ipincs3. The husband, even in the dawn of his 
 marital bliss, should begin to create in his wife's mind 
 those favorable sensations which arc the precursors of 
 those more solid ideas which bind woman toman — by 
 that strong, invisible in'crcommunion of soul which 
 only death can interrupt. The obligation is equally 
 imperative on the wife. 
 
 In the hey-day of her husband's love, while hia 
 heart beats responsive to her every wish, and his mind 
 is a fair tablet on which none but Summer thoughts 
 are engraved, she should begin the study of his char- 
 acter, so that when the necessity arises she may he 
 able to accommodate her own more plastic one to it, 
 without etfort or inconvenience. Indeed, with both of 
 them, this should early be an object of anxiety, so that 
 gradually there should grow up between them a con- 
 ciliatory predisposition of lone and manner which, 
 when brought into recquisiiion, would appear more a 
 habit than a duty. Both husband and wife object to 
 anything that looks like compulsion ; they each turn 
 away from even duty, when clothed in repelling gar- 
 ments ; and from this it will be apparent how necessa- 
 ry it is that the soil of their tempers, and peculiar 
 mental and moral idiosyneracies, should as early as 
 practicable be sown only with those seeds which in 
 after years will yield the sweet smelling flowers that 
 shed such a delicious perfume over hallowed and long 
 tried wedded love. 
 
 The Death of Mozart. — "There was something 
 touching in the death of Mozart, the great composer. 
 His sweeteet song was the last he sung — the Kcquiem. 
 He bad been employed npou the exquisite piece for 
 several weeks, bis soul filled wiih inspiration of richest 
 melody, and already claiming kindred with immortal- 
 ity. Afier giving it its touch and breathing into it 
 that undying spirit of song which was to consecrate it 
 through all time, as his 'cygnean strain,' he fell into a 
 gentle and quiet slumber. At length the footsteps of 
 his daughter Emilie awoke him. 
 
 ' Come hither,' said he, ' my Emilie — my task is 
 done — the Kequiem — my Requiem is finished.' 
 
 ' Say not so, dear father,' said the gentle girl, inter- 
 nipting him as team stood in her eyes. ' You must 
 be better — you look better, for even now your cheek 
 has a glow upon it — I am sure we will nurse you well 
 again — let me bring you something refreshing.' 
 
 ' Do not deceive yourself, my love,' said the dying 
 father, ' this wasted form can never be restored by 
 human ai 1. From Heaven's mercy alone do I look 
 for aid in this my dying hour. 
 
 You spoke of refreshment, my Emilie — take these 
 my last notes — sit down to my piano here — sing with 
 them the hymn of your sainted mother — let me once 
 more hear those tones which have been so long my 
 solacement and delight.' 
 
 Emilie obeyed, and with a voice enriched with ten- 
 derest emotion sang the following stanzas : — 
 .^ipirit: thy Inbor is o'er! 
 'I'liy liiru'of probation is run. 
 
 Tby steps arc now bound for the uutrodden shore. 
 And the races of ininiortals beguu. 
 
 Spirit I look not on lliv strife. 
 
 Or the plinsures of earth with roprcl— 
 Pause not on the thresliold of limitless life. 
 
 To mourn for the May that is set. 
 
 8j»irit! no fetters caii bind, 
 
 2\ o wicked have power to molest ; 
 There the weary, like tliec — the wretched shall find 
 
 A haven, a mnusion ofrcst, 
 
 Spirit! how bright is the roftd 
 For which thou art now on the wine, 
 Thy home it will be. with thv Snvioui and God, 
 
 Their loud hnllelujuh to sin^. 
 As she concluded, she dwelt for a moment upon the 
 melancholy notes of the piece, and then turning fiom 
 the instrument, looked in silence for the approving 
 smile of her father. It was the still passionless smile 
 which the rapt and joyous spirit felt — with the seal of 
 dcatli upon those features. 
 
 The Harp. — Of all the musical instruments that 
 have touched the ear and the heart of mankind, since 
 Mercury gave his shell to Apollo, the harp stands 
 foremost, Exquisitely beautiful as is the spirit of its 
 chords, when struck by the hand of a master, the glory 
 of its renown lies in nssociatiuvs and memories, ten- 
 der and sacred, connecting it with the earliest history 
 of our race, and wiih the most romantic and poetic 
 ages of the past. When the oppressors of Israel asked 
 for a song from the dark-eyed daughters of their cap- 
 tives, as they sat weeping by the waters of Babylon, 
 they pointed to their harps, ' hung upon the willows,' 
 and their souls refused a song of joy. The national 
 instrument might wail a psalm of sorrow to lighten 
 the weariness of captivity, and to recall memories of 
 home, but it had no jubilant strain to gladdeu the heart 
 of a conqueror, while the chosen people sat in bond- 
 age. 
 
 But there were exultant strains in the harp when 
 David touched its strings and danced before the ark, 
 or when the feet of Miriam moved obedient to its har- 
 monies. The harp, too, was exultant in the hands of 
 the Northern Skald, as he celebrated the triumphs of 
 his Jarl, or sounded the praise and majesty of his gods 
 in the halls of Wodin, or on the mountain tops conse- 
 crated to Thor. There the white-haired and white- 
 robed bard sang to the music of the harp the history 
 of heroes and races, the glory of religion, and the 
 splendors of the immortal state. The wandering Ro- 
 mans, approaching the shores of Britain, thus beheld 
 the priests and poets of a religion anterior to Christ, 
 piling sacrificial fires, and invoking the aid of their 
 deities against the ofl'ending C;e-ar. In all Northern 
 Europe the harp sounded in banquet hall and camp, 
 at the Druid's altar, and at the head of the embattled 
 host. The harper was historian, eulogist, priest, and 
 seer. 
 
 Kings were harpists of old. The Psalmist monarch 
 uttered his rejoicing and sorrow to the music of the 
 harp. The great Alfred, of Britain, found in his harp 
 a ready key to the camp and tent of the conquer ol his 
 country, and while he charmed the ear of the Dane as 
 he quafl'ed his mead, he also espied the weakness of a 
 foe, who, ere another dawn, felt the fair hand of the 
 royal harper victoriously grasping tiie battle axe and 
 the sword. And the great conqueror, Brian Boroihme, 
 a king by might and right — not heavier were his 
 death-dealing blows on the ' Field of the Green Ban- 
 ner,' Clontarf, than were his fingers light and wizzard 
 when he touched that harp which Ireland still treas- 
 ures among her relics, and which Rochsa claimed to 
 have touched to please the car of a Su.xon king. And 
 who has not fancied hearing, in some revery of the 
 soul over the fall and sorrow of nations, the strains of 
 that mightier harp, viewless, but living and immortal — 
 
 The harp that hung in Tara's halls. 
 Rude or perfected, in all nations the hnrp has had a 
 home and a welcome. The Hebre e, the Scandina- 
 vian, the Cimhrian, and the Celt, have held it hal- 
 lowed. Saints, pilprims and heroes have been solaced 
 by it, and we arc taught that, ascending to higher 
 glories, the angels of God strike celestial melodies 
 from its strings. It is not strange, then, with such a 
 history upon earth, and such a prophecy and faith at- 
 tached to its future, that the harp is become a chosen 
 and universal, as it is a sacred instrument amongst 
 men. 
 
 Ho-w TO Look Yocno. — How is it that some 
 men, thought to be so old, still look so young, 
 while others, though young, look old ? The cause 
 lies very frequently in themselves. Mr. Rant once, 
 on being a.sked the reason, said : — 
 
 ' I never ride when I can walk ; I never cat but 
 one dish at dinner ; I never get drunk. Jly walk- 
 ing keeps my blood in circulation, my simple diet 
 prevents indigestion, and, never touching ardent 
 spirits, my liver never fears being eaten up alive.' 
 But he forgot to add one of the greatest causes of 
 lasting youth — ' a kind, unenvious heart.' Envy 
 can dig as deeply in the human face as time itself. 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 127 
 
 ADVEKTISEMEHTS. 
 
 THE IRISH VINDICATOR, 
 
 A WEEKLY KEWSFArEK, 
 
 The Best akd Cheapest Fdbushed im America. 
 
 THIS splendid Tnpcr, which is little over uiue months 
 in existence, has met with the 
 MOST W O N D E It F U L SUCCESS, 
 oud has been pronounced by the Press nnd the Tublic to be 
 superior to any otherlrisl'i Weekly in the United States. 
 
 It contains each week, the very 
 Latest Nkws fkom every County in Ikeland ; 
 Original and entertaining 
 STOKIES AND ANECDOTES, 
 and a variety of Miscellaneous Heading matter, of a diame- 
 ter which cannot fail to elevate and chasten the intel- 
 lectual appetite. The Irish ^'indicator is devoted 
 TO THE INTERESTS OF IKISHHEN IN AMEHICA, 
 and is so cheap as to be within the reach of the poorest. 
 
 ONLY THREE CENTS A COPY. 
 
 THE FOLLOWING AKE THE TERMS 
 
 To any part of the United States, for one year, $1.60 
 
 Do. do. ,do. for 8 mouths, 1.00 
 
 Do. do. do. for 4 mouths, 0.50 
 
 Do. do. do. for 1 month, 0.12 
 
 To any part of Canada or the British Frovinces, one year, 
 
 @2,00 — All payments in advance. 
 
 FOR ADVERTISING, 
 
 12 lines, single insertion 81.00 I 12 lines, 1 month, $2.50 
 12 do. 3 months, 5.50 | 12 do. 1 year, 16.00 
 
 Published every week, at the Office, No 10 Spruce street, 
 Kew York, by the Froprietor. 
 
 EDVVAKD DOWSES CONNEET & CO. 
 
 New York, march 27 
 
 TANNER, HALPIN & COMPANY, Directory Fub- 
 LisuEKS, Advertising and Collecting Agents, No. 
 10 South Clark street, Chicago, Illinois, compilers of D. B. 
 Cooke & Co's. City and Business Directory, Chicago. Di- 
 rectories compiled for Local Publishers in any part of the 
 Western States. Henry Tanner, Jr. 
 
 Thomas M. Halpin, 
 Chicago, Feb. 13 Allan Cooper. 
 
 BS. TREANOR, ATTORNEY and COUNSELLOR 
 . AT LAW, 15 Massachusetts Block, Court Square, 
 Boston. 
 
 CT^ParticuIar attention paid to Conveyancing, and the 
 examination of titles of Real Estate. febl3 
 
 NORTHERN HOUSE, 
 
 NORTH SQUARE— BOSTON. 
 
 JOHN GLANCY Proprietor. 
 
 This House has rooms equal to any first class Hotel, and 
 permanent or transient Boarders can be accommodated 
 nearly one half cheaper than at any other Bouse in the 
 City. 
 
 In the Reading Room can be found atl the morning and 
 evening papers, and periodicals of the day, together with 
 an extensi\ e Library, for the free and exclusive use of 
 the Boarders. 
 
 N. B. Strangers visiting Boston, can always find this 
 House a Home. marcli20 
 
 D 
 
 OOLEY'S MERCHANTS' E.XCHANCE HOTEL 
 State Street, Boston, conducted upon the European 
 pian. 
 
 [C^Rooms, per dav — 50 cents. Lodging — 25 cents. 
 P. S. After the l.st of April next, Mr. Dooley will move 
 to his New Hotel, No. 25 Portland street. febl3 
 
 s 
 
 TACKFOLE HOUSE, William Stone. Corner Milk 
 
 d Devonshire streets, Boston. 
 [i:7=-European Papers on file. feb 13 
 
 FOUNTAIN HOUSE. A TEMPERANCE HOTEL, cor- 
 ner of Harrrison Avenue and Beach Streets, near the 
 Worcester and Old Colony Railroad Depot, Boston. 
 Terms — One dollar and twentv-live cents per dav. 
 febl3 H. F. GARDNER, M. D., Froprietor. 
 
 DO'ROURKE, respectfully informs his friends and the 
 . public, that he keeps constantly on hand COFFINS 
 of all sizes and kinds, at his Coffin 'Manufactory, No. 347 
 Federal, between Beach and Knceland Streets, Boston, 
 which he will sell as reasonable as can be bought at any oth- 
 er place in the city. 
 
 N. B. — Orders punctually attended to, day or night. 
 
 Residence, No. 28 South street, Boston. 
 
 [D^Grave-Clothes furnished to order at short notice. 
 
 febl3 
 
 WILLIAM MANNING, Sexton Sc Funeral Under- 
 taker of the Dorchester Catholic Cemetery, would 
 inform his friends and the public, that he keeps constantly 
 on hand and niaiiul'actures to order, colliiis ol all sizes and 
 kinds, at his collin «areroom. No. 1 Davis St., Roxbury. 
 
 Grave clothes of various qualities for sale, and coflin plates 
 engraved at short notice. Price of Graves, 93.60. 
 
 AMUSEMENTS. 
 
 EASTER MONDAY NIGHT! A grand Vocal and In- 
 strumenla! Concert will be given by the St. Cecilia 
 Choral Soc, (one hundred singers) and Brass Baud attached 
 assi.sted hy the lull Gerniauia Orchestra, and Mendelssohn 
 Glee Club, al Tnniont Temple, Wednesday, March 17,1868. 
 Mr. .lolni Fiilkriistein, Director, Organist of St. Mary's 
 Cluncli, rio>liin. 
 
 Tiekcis 25 ets., to be had at the Pilot Office, and the fol- 
 lowing gentlemen : 
 
 lioston— E. A. Palmer, E. A . oggins, Patrick Donahoe, 
 T Mooiiev, James O'Neil.M. Doherty, Martin Griffin, C. 
 Doherly, E. S. Wright, Wm. S. McGowan, Dennis Bonner, 
 M. A.l'anen. Whi. Dorcy. J. punningham. Dr. Walter 
 Walsh, Wni. ( ovle, J. N. McDevitt, T. Powers, J. W. Bar- 
 ron, Gi'd. E. Muiphy, F. O'Dowd, VVm. Harley, Jas. Galla- 
 gher, M. Carney, .Tohn Flvnn, John Doherty. 
 
 South Boston— Dr. Ferguson, Wm. McAvoy, Ambrose 
 A. Thaver. 
 
 East Boston— M. Doherty, P. McDonough,H. Kingman, 
 Dr. Tavlor. 
 
 Roxbury— Joseph Walker, M. Mischler, J. Murphy, Mar- 
 tin Lynch, James Baxter. 
 
 Charlestowu— M. Lenuan, C. Grace, F. Holland, F. H. 
 Neagle. 
 
 Cambridge and East Cambridge— Wm. Brine, John Com- 
 an, John Haegnev, John F. Brine, Jos. F. Scanlan, Jas . 
 Cassidy, J. Kiernan. m6 
 
 ORDWAY HALL, Washington street, nearly opposite 
 the " Old South." Ninth Regular Season. Manager, 
 J. F. Ordw'ay. 
 
 Every Evening This Week. Messrs. Bowers & Bud- 
 worth (from Christy & Woods' Minstrels), the celebrated 
 Ethiopian Comedians, will appear in conjunction with Ord- 
 wav's ^EOLIANS. See small bills each day. 
 0=-Tickets 25 cents— Children half price. 
 Doors open at 6 3-4 o'clock : To commence at 7 1-2. fl3 
 
 MORRIS BROTHERS, FELL & HUNTLEY'S MIN- 
 STRELS I Opera House — School Street, opposite 
 Franklin Monument. 
 
 The above Company commenced their Series of Unique 
 Burlesque Ethiopian Melanges on MONDAY EVENING, 
 Jan. 4th, 1858, and will continue every evening and Satur- 
 day Afternoon during the season. The hall has been beau- 
 tifully fitted up, and the Managers pledge themselves that 
 no pa'ins shall be w-anting on their part to render this the 
 place of amusement for the play-going public. 
 
 Cards of admission, 25 cents : Children under ten years, 
 15 cents. 
 
 Doors open at fi 3-4 o'clock ; performance commenc- 
 ing at 7 1-2. LON MORRIS & J. T. HUNTLEY, 
 
 febl3 tf Business Managers. 
 
 GILMORE'S SALEM QUADRILLE BAND. E. UP- 
 TON, Jr.. Prompter. Apply to P. S. Gil.more, Es- 
 sex House, Salem, Mass. 3m febl3 
 
 PASSENGER CERTIFICATES. 
 
 TO OLD COUNTRYMEN. Owen Mc Namara has 
 Passage Certilicates and Drafts always on hand and 
 for sale. As he does business for that most respectable 
 house, (Williams & Guiou) in New York. Old Countrymen 
 desiring to send for their friends, or remit money, would 
 do well to give him a call atNo. 4G0RHAM St.. opposite 
 Summer St., Lowell, Mass. ap2tf 
 
 P MORRIS, APOTHECARY, Corner Federal and Pur- 
 • chase streets, foot of Summer street, Boston. 
 Strict personal attention paid to compounding Physician's 
 Prescriptions. A choice selection of Family' Medicines 
 constantly on hand. A well selected Stock of genuine im- 
 ported Perfumery and Fancy Goods. Soda Water with 
 choice Syrups. A large assortment of Genuine Havana 
 Cigars constantly on hand. feb 13 
 
 PX. KEATING, DE.SIGNER and Engraver ON Wood, 
 • No. 2 Spring Lane, Boston At Jackson & Foynes. 
 
 WHY BURN GAS BY DAYLIGHT ? STEPHEN 
 ROE & CO., Inventors and Manufacturers of the 
 Improved Daylight Reflector, for diffusing the 
 healthy light of day into all dark places. No. 23 State St., 
 Boston, and No. 34 Park street, Baltimore. 
 N. B. Call and see it in operation. 6m febl3 
 
 A WILLIAMS & CO., Wholesale Agents, for the Irish 
 • Miscellany. The Tiade supplied with Books, Pe- 
 riodicals and Newspapers. Special Agents for Harper & 
 Brothers Publications. No. 100 Washington street. 
 feb20 Boston. 
 
 ANY of the following works, published hy P. M. IIAV- 
 ERTY, 110 Fulton street. New York, will be sent free 
 by mail, on receipt of the amount in money or postage 
 stamps: — 
 
 REMINESCENSES OF AN EMIGRANT MILESIAN. 
 The Ii-ish Abroad and at Home ; with Souvenirs of the Brig- 
 ade. One Vol.. 12 mo., cloth. Price, W.OO. 
 
 HII'.EKNIAN NIGHTS' ENTERTAINMENTS: By 
 Samuel Ferguson, LL.D., Editor of the Dublin Universl- 
 tv Masazine, 12 mo., cloth, 564 pages. Price .1S1.25. 
 
 EM-MET: Lives of Robei-t and Thomas Addis Emmet, 
 ivith a memoir of Robert Holmes. Two portraits on steel, 
 12mn. rh.th. Price, $1.00. 
 
 DAVIS'S POEMS: With an introduction by John Mitch- 
 ell. 1.1 mo., cloth post. Price, 38 cents. 
 
 FITZGERALD: Thomas Moore's Life of Lord Edward 
 Fitzgerald. 12mo., cloth. Price, 75 cents. 
 
 WILD IRISH GIRL: Bv Lady Morgan. 18mo., cloth, 
 2 vols, in one. Price, 60 cents. 
 
 P. M. II. will also send any of the publications of P. 
 Donahoe, of lio.stmi : Dunigaii or Sadlier of New York, by 
 mail on the same terms. febl3 
 
 KELLY & CUNNINGUAJI, BILL PO.STERS and Dis- 
 tributors. No. 2 Williams Court, Bo.ston, Proprietors 
 of all the Bill Boards in the City, i-e.^pectfullv an- 
 nounce to the business cortimunitv of Boston and N. York, 
 that thov have gre;iflv iiicronsr-rl their facilities for I'osting 
 and lii^tribiitiip.; liills. .«iicli iis Theatre, Concert, Lecture, 
 
 Audi. .11. .<I.;u.l1i..:iI, ( iiviis. ite. kc. 
 
 Owini; to titi- gii lit iiirrciise in their business, thev have 
 been obliged to add liorsiis and wajons to their heretofore 
 ample accommodations, to which they give their personal 
 attention. 
 
 *„*Thankful for past favors they would respectftilly so- 
 licit a contintiance of iiublic patronage. 
 itTT.v B. r'f :VN.'iivr:ii A 
 
 PROSPECTUS. 
 
 IRISH MISCELLANY. Prospectus. On Saturday the 
 ISth day of February 1868, was published the first 
 mumber of anew weekly periodical, with the above title, 
 dedicated to the dill'usion of a more intimate knowledge or 
 the literary and political history of Ireland, and to the 
 metital, moral and political elevation of the Celtic race on 
 this continent. 
 
 The " /r(A7t Miscellajty^^ will contain 16 pages of closely 
 printed matter, on fine piijier, ul a .size similar to this jjros- 
 pcctus. Price 4 cents a eupy, |«i\ able on delivery ; or S2 a 
 year to mail subscribers — iiuaiiably in ad\aiiee. 
 
 In asking for iHiblie Mippcirt lor the Irish tliscrllnmj, it is 
 proper to sav, tlial it is not our intention to tiespass upon 
 the ground alieailv iHiiipii il bv any of our cotemporaiies. 
 We have marked out lor ourselves a course entirely new and 
 original — one not occupied by any other publication in this 
 country. We propose to cultivate a field which, although 
 nalurally rich and fertile, and capable of producing the 
 choicest tlowers and fruits of literature, has hitherto lain 
 comparatively barren and unproductive. Into this field we 
 shall enter wilh a full confidence of its capabilities, but with 
 a modest diffidence of the skill which we shall bring to ita 
 culture. 
 
 It has long been a reproach to our race here, that while 
 the publications of the day, with but few exceptions, teem 
 with vile carricatures of us and of our country — while we 
 are continually held up to public gaze as everything that is 
 foolish, absurb and vicious — but little effort is made to place 
 the true character of our people before the public eye, op 
 vindicate our name and race from the calumnies wilh wiiich 
 English hate everywhere pursues us. 
 
 Ix) correct, in some measure, this crying evil, it was at 
 first intended to g.lther together a number of Irishmen dis- 
 tinguished in the walks ot literature, and publish monthly 
 a review, which, for sterling talent, should be second to 
 •none published here or in Euorpe. The great expense con- 
 sequent upon an undertaking of this magnitude, deterred us 
 from the attempt, compelled us to relinquish our design, 
 and to substitute instead thereof, our more unpretending 
 " Miscellany.^' 
 
 We propose to re-produce in our weekly periodical the 
 writings of many ot the gieat minds who have gone before 
 us. while we shall also cull from the current Irish litera- 
 ture of the day, such productions of merit cannot fail to be 
 aceaptable to our readers v ^.tr country is rich in legendry 
 lore, and the legends ot the old laud, while they amuse, 
 serve to instruct and to elevate. 
 
 We shall therefore publish such instructive tales and le- 
 gends of a high moral tone, that will remind us of the hap- 
 py times when we — 
 
 " Sat by the fire of a cold Winter's night. 
 Along with our friends telling tales of delight." 
 
 We shall give faithful desriptions and illustrations of 
 Irish antiquities — of our ruind monasteries, our plundered 
 abbeys and churches ; and our pictorial ilustrations of Irish 
 scenery and antiquities will present to loving minds many 
 familiar scenes of early childhood. We have secured the 
 services of talented artists, and each number of the Miscel- 
 lany will contain numerous pictorial illustrations executed 
 in the best style of art. 
 
 We shall keep constantly before our readers the ancient 
 glory of our country, and while we ponder with pride upon 
 the moral and intellectual superiority of Ireland, when 
 England and the rest of Europe was sunk in ignorance and 
 hai-barism j we shall point to the past as an incentive to the 
 future. 
 
 The biographies of distinguished Irishmen will be an im- 
 portant feature in the Irish Miscellany^ as we shall give bio- 
 graphical notices of Irishmen, distinguished in every de- 
 partment of literature, science and art — of men distinguish- 
 ed on the sea and on land ; in the church, the senate, and 
 at the bar. 
 
 It is our intention to republish the works of Irish writers 
 now out of print, in such a manner that they may be pre- 
 served to future time as a memento of the old land, and 
 serve to incalculate, in the minds of the rising generation, 
 a filial regard for the land of their fathers. 
 
 We propose commencing with the Dublin Penny Journal^ 
 a work which in its day enjoyed unbounded popularity. 
 We shall devote one half of the Miscellany to each number 
 of that national publication. To do this we have ordered a 
 font of type in Irish characters, so that the poems printed 
 in tliat J'ournal in the Irish language can be reprinted in 
 Irish characters with English translation in ours. This 
 department of the Miscellany will be in the hands of an Ii-ish 
 gentleman every way competent to the task. 
 
 The remaining eight pages of the Miscellany will be devo- 
 ted to the current news of the day,to original articles, tales, 
 essays, poetry. &c. In politics we shall endeavor to avoid 
 those questions which nave divided our countrymen, or 
 discu.ss them in a manner void of oifence. 
 
 The Irish Miscellany w'M be thoroughly independent of all 
 political parties — the slave of none- Such questions as af- 
 fect our countrymen here, w-e shall discuss with freedom, 
 and zealously labor for their moral, intellectual and politi- 
 cal elevation. 
 
 The editorial labors w-ill be divided among several gentle- 
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 come guest at the fireside of every family. With these re- 
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 I'ublishcrs, Boston. Mass.' 
 
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 STAXDJIUi W(iI:KS. LIFICOK THE IILKSSED VIR- 
 (ilN M.\U"l . .•MilTlllCK llF GUI): Wilh the History ofthe 
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 P O E T rt Y 33 Y T II O M A- S D A. V^ I S 
 
 AeSOMFMIHlMT FOE TIE PIAKO«FCimTE. 
 
 I.ARGn. SEMPRR DOI.CE, 
 
 
 bright - er was your blushing. When first your mur - mur3 hushing, I told 
 
 my love outgush - ing. 
 
 An-nic, Dear. 
 
 
 :--z=-^^-| 
 
 ~=T^1^= 
 
 2. Ah ! but our hopes were splen-Jid, 
 -fc- 1 
 
 Annie, Dear, How sad - ly they have end - ed 
 
 m^^^m 
 
 An-nie, Dear; Tiie 
 
 -zj.—- 1— ^- 
 
 !^ii^illi^^i^ilii|pi=iij^f|ip[f 
 
 be - twixt US broken, When our vows of love wore spok - en, Of your poor heart was a token, Annie, Dear. 
 
 3. 4. 
 
 The primrose flow'rs were p'lining, Annie, dcar,For once, when home returning, Annie, dear, But why arose a morrow, Annie, dear, 
 
 ^V hen, on my breast reclining, Annie, dear ; I found our cottage burning, Annie, dear. Upon that night of sorrow, Annie, dear ? 
 
 ]}egan our Jli-na-Mcala, Around it were the yeomen, Far better, by thee lying. 
 
 And many a month did follow Of every ill an omen. Their bayonets defying, 
 
 Of joy — but life is hollow, Annie, dear. The counti-y's bitter focmen, Annie, dear. Than live an e.xile .sighing, Annie, dear. 
 
VOLUME I— NUMBER 9. ] 
 
 BOSTON, SATURDAY, APRIL 10, 1858. 
 
 [ PRICE FOUR CENTS. 
 
 TERENURE. 
 
 To the Editor of the Dublin Penny Journal : — 
 Sir — The citizens of Dublin, of the middle and 
 poorer classes are rather unkindly treated by some 
 of the noble an d affluent among their countrymen, 
 ■who with a spirit of exelusiveness unknown in 
 many other co untries, debar them from a sight of 
 those parks, palaces; and pleasure grounds within 
 which they repo se. Often have I, when coasting 
 along a park wall, whoso jealous coping towered 
 far above my^head, wished that the niggard pos- 
 
 sessor had half a day's residence at the bottom of a 
 dry well, just to teach him, in raiher a different 
 style than Parnell's angel taught the miser, not to 
 begrudge the king's lieges a sight of his improve- 
 ments. Not a few act as if they thought another 
 man's enjoyment would lessen their own, and as if 
 another's breathing the common air of heaven in 
 the neighborhood of their demesne, would taint the 
 atmosphere within their own enclosures. In this 
 way, not long ago, a heavy-pursed man, who had 
 purchased a fine property in the county of Wick- 
 
 low, did not feel himself quite snug in the midst of 
 lawns, glens, waterfalls, and rocks, until he had 
 excluded vulgar eyesight by a twelve-feet wall. 
 Surely his lordship was mistaken in supposing that 
 thereby he kept Satan from leaping into his para- 
 dise ! Alas, the foul fiend had already taken pos- 
 session of a narrower and nearer enclosure — his 
 head-quarters were beneath his lordship's ribs, and 
 his name was — selfishness. 
 
 Now Ireland is, of many countries under the face 
 of the smiling sun, most remarkable for this exhibi- 
 
 IEKEMjKI iUL M \.i OF IKLDERICIv BOUli,^E, E«q. 
 
 tion of the effectual working of appropraition. In 
 England, a silver key will open many a proud 
 man's gate; and even if you have not money to 
 bribe gate-keepers, and housekeepers, you may get 
 a glimpse of the demesne either over or through the 
 park paling. But here stones and lime are so plen- 
 ty, that the great man can wall away at a cheap 
 rate; and Mr. and Jlrs. Grundy of Grafton-street, 
 who, after being pent up for weeks at measuring 
 tape and postmg ledgers, have ventured to travel, 
 on a fine day in July, amid clouds of animated 
 
 dust, arising from an equally almost suffocating 
 [road, their horse kicking under the bites of horse- 
 flies, and themselves sweltering under a blistering, 
 burning sun — in vain do they stretch their curious 
 Hecks to come at the rural scenery on cither side — 
 jhigh walls— (oh, I hate high wall I) and beltings of 
 lofty trees almost shut ont the very mountains from 
 the view, and tliey go on, coasting demesne after 
 demesne, that tliey cannot see, and dare no more 
 enter, than a cruiser may venture on the cliff-bound 
 and battery-protected shores of a hostile kingdom. 
 
 Now, there are exceptions to these remarks, even 
 .in Ireland, and Saxon and stranger though I be, I 
 ihave met instances of it which have pleased me ex- 
 ceedingly. AValking in the neighborhood of Tcre- 
 nure, situated in one of the numerous outlets of 
 Dublin, I was struck with the number of carriages, 
 jaunting-cars and pedestrians, either standing at 
 the gate, or issuing in and out of the demesne. 
 * Why,' says I to myself, ' is there an auction going 
 on here ? Perhaps some of our great merchants — 
 some eminent distiller, brewer, or notary public, 
 
I, "JO 
 
 HUSH MISCKLLANY. 
 
 liUR, after enclosing thin jmrk for liiiiisclf, ligurcil in 
 tbe (jaictte— Jii» bubble has burst, and here are liis 
 creditor!) now gatlicriiii; in their 2s. 6<1. in the 
 pound, and bringing to the hammer all that his 
 >oul rejoiced in !' l!»t it turned out quite the re- 
 "vewe. Terenure is the demesne of rreiUriek 
 Moume, Ksq., a gentleman who, having acquired 
 his property by the public, is desirous that the 
 public should see how he disposes of a portion of it 
 and therefore his gates arc open to all who may 
 choose to walk in, and his capital and his taste, 
 and his science are laid down here, that the meanest 
 and the humblest citizen may sec, enjoy, and ad- 
 mire 
 
 On entering Terenure, you perceive that it has 
 no natural beauties. The grounds arc flat and fat, 
 producing a rich abundance of lofty elms — the 
 house is not remarkable — but the large gardens, 
 frau"ht with all the glories of Pomona and I'lora, 
 form tlie grand attraction. No expense has been 
 spared — all that care, labor, science, and taste can 
 do, has been done; the well-constructed couservn 
 tories supply the natural dcfcit. of our climate by 
 means of the newest mechanical inventions — hot 
 water circulating through all parts, and communi 
 eating a genial warmth, such us neither steam nor 
 hot air, burnt in the old way, by passing over 
 heated iron, can impart; and then the beautiful 
 flower plots — such beds of roses — such amaranthine 
 odors, as neither Damascus itself, nor those Sabcan 
 •vales that gave the Arabian prophet an idea of his 
 sensual paradise — can surjiass. 
 
 The pleasure I enjoyed in walking through these 
 gardens was greatly enhanced by the idea of the 
 perfect disinterestedness of their owner. If you 
 ■walk through a highly-cultivated farm — and a well- 
 cultivated farm is a beautiful sight — though you 
 may be struck with the well-contrived arrangements 
 — with the teeming luxuriance of the crops — with 
 the simple yet perfect adjustment of the machinery, 
 yet you say to yourself, the proprietor will have his 
 profit in all this — it will amply repay him. But 
 not so the florist. His beds of hyacinths — his 
 stages of auriculas — his Dutch tulips and Turkish 
 anemones — all that the Cape, Australia, or China, 
 can supply — instead of yielding something to boil 
 in the pot, very seriously extract from the pocket, 
 as I daresay the proprietor of Terenure can well 
 tell. But who would begrudge him riding so inno- 
 cent, so beautiful, and so accommodating a hobby ? 
 He is spending the money acquired by speculations 
 ■which have been beneficial to Ireland, in Ireland, 
 and giving employment to many not merely in the 
 way of his business, but in the bent of liis pleasure. 
 His demesne is open to all — no greedy gardner is 
 allowed to traffic his civilities for shillings — all is 
 OS open and free as at the Jardin des I'lantes at 
 
 Paris. 
 
 Now, if any of your readers have been in the 
 habit of reading the valuable Penny Magazine pub- 
 lished by the society for diffusing Useful Knowl- 
 edge, they may remember seeing an extract from 
 the Quarterly Review, in which it is said tliat 
 though on the continent the people are freely ad- 
 mitted into museums, parks, galleries, &e., yet, 
 owing to the propensity of the ICngUsh to mischief, 
 they must be excluded as much as jiossiblc from 
 these places of public entertainment, ^\'ithaut dis- 
 cussing this point, I would only say the owner of 
 Terenure has to guard against a eircumstano; which 
 is unknown in the French gardens already alluded 
 to; but grieved am I to say, that Irish florists have 
 a propensity of appropriating what U rich and rare 
 — even at the risk of a breach of tht seventh <om 
 mandmcnt. But mind, I do not say this of the 
 middle closscs — no! the simple citizen, who knows 
 not the difference between a rose unique and a 
 blush rose, or a tag from a jonquil, or an anemone 
 from a ranunculus, walks, admires, and touches 
 not; but it is your tasty lady or gentleman against 
 whom the accusation comes, those who know th„ 
 
 value of a rare flower or plant, who have their own 
 floral snuggery, their own well-guarded paradise, 
 who cannot see a black or a white moss rose, or 
 any other splendid expensive monster of tlie king- 
 dom of Flora, without feeling a longing desire, and 
 casting a lingering look. Oh, ye gardners and col- 
 lectors, be« are of such — war-hawk — watch well the 
 one we hint at; Harrington himself was not so light- 
 fingered. Such greediness will grasp at one of the 
 most prized and gorgeous of your garden beauties 
 — let gardners in such a demesne iis Terenure be- 
 ware of a lady coming in a carriage, with her fair 
 hands enveloped in a mull'; oh, the convenient con- 
 cealments of that cajjueiuus muff — Mercury himself 
 invented muffs — so admirably adapted to cover a 
 billet-doux or a bulbous root — a piece of lace or fat 
 fowl — a round of ribbon or a pound of sausages ! 
 Suppose, by ■H'ay of illustration, one fine day in 
 spring, just before the show of flowers in the llo- 
 tundo, a well-appointed yellow chariot drives up 
 in rapid style to Terenure, and the footman alights, 
 and a lady walks in to sec the grounds. Purlher- 
 morc, suppose that Mr. B., on liberal thought in- 
 tent, himself comes ou*, and volunteers to show the 
 fair fashionable all the blooming exuberance of his 
 gardens — for mind you, reader, it is delightful, 
 really delightful, to exhibit rareities belonging to 
 oneself, and to descant with science, taste, and 
 ardor, on the distinctive qualities of each fine thing, 
 under the chuckling feeling that all this is mine — 
 exclusively mine ! But when this is done in the 
 presence of a pretty woman, -vvhosc sparkling eye 
 flashes with a perfect understanding and tasteful 
 community of sentiment — when the rich red lip, 
 rivalling the very rose that is the subject of dis- 
 course, expresses its admiration and pleasure in 
 honied words — who could stand this ? AN'hy, Argus 
 himself would not know ■\vhether he ■vvas standing 
 on his head or his heels, and his eyes, had he a 
 thousand instead of a hundred, ■would be glewed 
 up with the gimi of pleasurable confidence! Just 
 further suppose the pair to walk from bed to par- 
 tarrc, and from partarrc to conservatory, and from 
 conseri-atory to hot-house — when, lo, the serene 
 repose of confidential communication is set ajar bv 
 a whisper from one of the gardeners — a man from 
 the ' north countric," who -with provincial shrewd- 
 ness, says, en passent, ' Master, your best auricula 
 has left its ain place — mavbe yon unco lady could 
 tell you something about it, for if I'm no mista'en, 
 she has it, pot and all, in her muff !' 'Wliat was 
 Mr. B. to do ? Was he so gruff to sieze the lady's 
 muff, and drag the auricula into daylight ? No ; 
 feigning an excuse that it was necessary to shut the 
 garden in order that the -workmen might go to din- 
 ner, he, with continued affability, led the lovely 
 lady plunderer towards her equipage, and handing 
 her in, said with great suavity, ' Madame, you have 
 done me the honor to admire the auricula I intended 
 for the show of flowers — I am highly gratified — you 
 are taking it home to .show to your friends — I am 
 better pleased — but as the confinement of your muff 
 may injure the delicate mealy eftlorcsence for ivhich 
 the plant is celebrated, pray allow me to disengage 
 it from its happy prison ; here, Tom Turfington,' 
 calling to the watehfu, gu.ardian, ' you can, if the 
 lady chooses, attend her home, and as soon <as she 
 has admired this auricula, and displayed it to her 
 friends, bring it back. I must always prize it the 
 more on account of the discriminating partiality 
 with wluch it has been honored,' The worthy 
 gentleman made his bow, and retired; the detected 
 and doubtless abashed lady resigned the auricula 
 into the hands of Tom Turfington and drove off; 
 and Tom and his fellow gardeners have ever since 
 evinced a watchful jealousy of lovely ladies who 
 come provided with muffs, especially on a warm 
 spring day, and who talk knowingly, look around 
 surreptitiously, and with pretty paws play picking- 
 ly among the flower beds. 
 
 Now this little story is perhaps a pure invention 
 of my own, nnd I tell it just to show that the own- 
 ers of improved grounds mid fine gardens ore not 
 entirely to blame when they exclude the public 
 from their properties. If all visitors would, like 
 the French, learn that delicate abstemiousness of 
 using the sense of seeing, without putting forward 
 the pawing propensity — if they would neither pluck, 
 derange, curve names on- trees, or scratch bad verses 
 on glass, there might be nnmy other estates thrown 
 open to their inspection, and kejit, like Terenure, 
 for them to walk and wander in. As it is, Mr. B. 
 deser>'es no small credit for keeping open his de- 
 mesne for the pleasure of the citizens of Dublin, 
 affording, as it docs, so delightful a rendezvous for 
 parties of pleasure, who every day may be seen 
 ranging through the grounds, and enjoying with a 
 relish which none but a citizen can so peculiarly 
 feel, that exquisite delight which flows from an 
 afternoon spent not in the bustle of business, but 
 amid the delights of Terenure. 
 
 I am, sir, yours truly. 
 
 Pkukouink Paiaveh. 
 
 ANCIENT IRISH HORN. 
 
 From a very early period in England, even beforo 
 the arrival of the Normans, it was not unusual to 
 transfer inheritances by the gift of some implement 
 that was well known to have belonged to the donor 
 or grantor, and this too, sine serijjtis, or ■without 
 writing or charter, but simply by word x)f mouth ; 
 the lands thus held were either in Frank -\lmoigne, 
 or in Fee, or in Serjeantry. Ingulph, Abbot of 
 Croyland, states this to have been a frequent mode 
 of conveying estates in the Conqueror's time, and 
 that the implements given in lieu of a charter were 
 usually the sword, or helmet, or 'Horn,' or cup of 
 the Lord or donor, and that many tenements were 
 held by a spur, a scraper, a bow; and some by an 
 arrow. Hence originated the Charter Horns, which 
 appear to have been the implements most commonly 
 used on those occasions, and of which there are 
 many of great antiquity still preserved in England ; 
 as the Horn of Ulphus, made of ivory, and now pre- 
 served in the vestry of the church of York, ■which 
 was given to that church in token of his bestowing 
 upon God and St. Peter .all his lands, tenements, &c. 
 The Pusey Horn, first given with the village of that 
 name to AVilliam Pusey by King Canute. The Bor- 
 stal Horn, IjOrdBruce'sHorn, Mr.Foxlowe's Horn, 
 the Horn of Corpus Cliristi College, Sec, These 
 Horns were sometimes hunting Horns sometimes 
 drinking Horns, and frequently adapted to both 
 purposes, as has been and is still not unusual with 
 himters. Thus Chaucer, 
 
 'Janus f-Hs bv tlic Hrc with double bcrde. 
 And driukctli of his bugle horn the wine, 
 
 Fraiikl. Talc. ver. 2809. 
 
 As this custom was practised by the Danes in 
 England, we may conclude that it equally prevailed 
 among the same people in Ireland : but be that as 
 it may, there is proof that it was used by the An- 
 glo Norman settlers at a very early period. It would 
 appear from the will of Thomas the 7th Earl of Or- 
 mond, dated July 31, 1515, that, it was by the gift 
 of a Horn that the noble house of Butler first ac- 
 quired their estates or honors, either on the appoint- 
 ment by Henry the II. in 1177, of Theobald, the 
 first of the family, Butler of Ireland, or on the crea- 
 tion of the first Earl of Ormond by Edward the first 
 when the county of Tipperary was made Palatine. 
 The passage in the will is curious; — viz. 'Item, 
 >\hen my Lord my father, whose soul God assoilc, 
 left and delivered unto me a lytic whyte Home of 
 ivory, garnished at both thends with gold, and corse 
 thereunto of whyte sylke, barred with barrcs of gold 
 and a tyret (turret) of gold thereupon, which was 
 myne auncestouers at fyrst tijne they were called to 
 honour, and hath sythcn eontynually remained in 
 the same blode, for which cause, my seid lord 
 and father, commanded me upon his blessing, that 
 I should do my devoir- to cause it to eontynue still 
 
HUSH MISCELLANY. 
 
 131 
 
 in my blode as far furth as thatmyght lyc in me soo 
 to be doono to the honour of the same blode. There- 
 fore for the accomplishment of sny said father's will 
 as far as it is in me to execute the same, I wool that 
 my executors', &c. &c. 
 
 This Horn docs not we believe now exist : but wo 
 present our readers with a representation of one of 
 the same kind now preserved in the museum of 
 Trinity college, to which it was presented by the 
 late Jlr. Kavanagh of Borris, the lineal descendant 
 of the last kings of Leinster. 
 
 Our Irish Horn in its size and general appearance 
 is not unlike some of those preserved in England. 
 It is of ivory, has sixteen sides and is mounted with 
 brass, indifferentl)' gilt,' — its height about sLxteen 
 inches. Kound the mouthpiece is the foUowing in- 
 scription in Gothic letters. 
 
 TIGURANIUS o'lAVAN SIE FECIT DEO GB.ACIAS, IHC. 
 
 That is, ' Tiguxanlus (or Tigheman) O'Lavan 
 made me for the love of God.' 
 
 This Horn has been usually called the Charter 
 Horn ; but on what evidence we cannot say, for 
 nothing is known of its history. From the inscrip- 
 tion it appears to have belonged originally to the 
 Laffan family, which was of great respectability in 
 the counties of Kilkenny and Tipperary, and its use 
 was evidently that of a drinkmg cup. 
 
 General Vallancey has exhibited an extraordinary 
 want of antiquarian skill in supposing this Horn to 
 be of the fifth ccnturj- ! whereas its age cannot pos- 
 sibly be higher than the fourteenth, and more proba- 
 bly is as late as the fifteenth. p. 
 
 ANCIENT IRISH LITERATURE-' 
 
 It is our intention henceforth to supply our readers 
 occasionally witli translated extracts from our ancient 
 annals, poems, and other unpublished remains, and 
 thus to open new and unexplored sources of entertain- 
 ment and information ; in which particular we hope to 
 take the lead of all our penny cotemporarics wlio rare- 
 ly, if ever, supply any but selected pulilished matter. 
 As an earnest of this determination we subjoin an ex- 
 tract from the second volume of thcAnnals of the Four 
 Masters, translated from the origin-il MS. in the lilira- 
 ry of the Ro>al Irish Academy. It is an account of 
 the several chiefs or nobles of Ireland who attended 
 the great parliament held in Dublin, in the year ISS.i. 
 This document cannot fail of interesting our readers, 
 generally, for its historical importance, but to many of 
 them it will have a deeper interest for the light it 
 throws on the ancient rank of their ancestors. We 
 shall append a few notes, to point out the present ac- 
 knowledged representatives of those families, or their 
 extinction, as far as our information extends. 
 
 Anko Curisti, 1585. 
 A general summons to meet in Parliament was is- 
 sued iliis year to the jjcople of Ireland, enjoining their 
 chiefs and nohles to assemble without fail in Dublin in 
 the following May ; for at that time most of the prin- 
 cipal men of Ireland were obedient to the government, 
 wherefore they generally came to Duhlin as ordered. 
 Thither came the chiefs and nobles of Tireonnell 
 andTirone; viz. 0'NeilI,[a] Turlogh Luineach, son of 
 Niall Conallach, son of Art, son of Conn, son of 
 Henry, son of Eogan (Owen or Eugene) ; and Aodh 
 (Hugh) son of Feardorcha, son of Conn Baeagh, son 
 of Henry, son of Eogan, i. e. the young Baron O'Neill, 
 who at that parliament got the title of Earl ; — and 
 0'Donell,[h] Aodh Roe, son of Magnus, (Manus) son 
 of Aodh Dufi; son of Aodh Roe, son of Niell Garbh ; 
 Maguirc,[c] Cuconacht, son of Cuconacht, son of 
 Brian, son of Philip, son of Thomas. 0'Dogherty,[d] 
 Shane Oge, son of Shane, (.John) son of Felmi, son 
 of Conor Carrach; 0' Boylc,[e] Turlogh sonof Niall, 
 son of Turlogh Oge, son of Turlogh Mor; and O'Gal- 
 lagher,[f J Owen son of Tuathal, ("pronounced Thoo- 
 hal) son of John, son of Hory, son of Aodh. 
 
 To this convention came also Mae Mahan,[g] viz: 
 Ross, son of Art, son of Brian na moch eirghc 
 (of the early rising) son of Redmond, son 
 of Glasney ; 0'Cahane.[hJ Rory, .son of Magnus, son 
 of Donagh an einigh (the generous) son of .John, son 
 of Aihhuo (Aivne) ; Conn, son of Niall Oge, son of 
 N'iall, son of Conn, son of Aodh Buoy (yellow) of the 
 O'Neills descended from Aodh Buoy (i. c. the O'Neills 
 of Clanna-boyJ;|i] and Mac Aongusa, orMagennis,[kJ 
 Aodh, son of Dosall Oge, son of Donall Gearr (the 
 short.) 
 
 To this assembly also went the chiefs of the Garbh- 
 trian (rough district^ of Connaught, viz. 0'Euairc,[l] 
 Brian son of Eogan ;— O'Reilly, [m] Shane Roe, son 
 of Aodh Conallach, son of Maolmordha, son of Ca- 
 thal ; and his uncle Edmond, son of Maolmordha, 
 both of whom were in contention with each other for 
 the Lordship of their Coimtry; and the 0'Ferrallf[n] 
 all together, viz. O'Fcrrall Ban (the fair,) William, 
 son of Donell, son of Cormae; O'Ferrall Buoy (the 
 yellow) Fachtna, son of Rory, son of Cathal. The 
 Siol Muireadhaig (descendants of Muireadach) also 
 with the chiefs of their different septs, viz. the son of 
 O'Conor Don,[o] (the brown) Aodh, sen of Carbry, 
 son of Eogan caeeh ("blind) son of Felim geanneach 
 (crooked-nosed); O'Conor Roe[p] (the red), Teige 
 Oge, son of Teighe Buoy, son of Cathal Roe. O'Con- 
 oi- Sligo[q] (of Sligo) Donall, son of Teige, son of 
 Cathel Oge, son of Donall, son of Eogan, son of Don- 
 all, son of Eogan, son of Donall, son of Murkertagh ; 
 — and a Deputy from Me Dei-moii[r] of Moy Luirg, 
 Brian, son of Rory, son of Teigh, son of Rory Oge, 
 for Mc Dernott himself, viz. Teige son of Eogan was 
 then a very old man enfeebled with age; and 
 0'Beirne,[s] Carbry, son of Teige, son of Carbry, son 
 of Maolseaghlaifln. 
 
 a This elder or Dungannon branch of the O'Xeils is now 
 extinct. 
 
 b Heprcsented now by Hugh O'Donncl, Esq., of Gray 
 lield, ju the county of Leitriiii. 
 
 c Tills family, the ancient Lords of Fermanah, is repre- 
 sented by Cucltoiiucht or C'oiibtautiue Muguiic, Esq., of 
 Tempo. 
 
 d e f Of the present representatives of these familicswc 
 have no accurate infurnmiioii. 
 
 c The worthy Sir William Hue ilahou is, we believe, the 
 chief of this noble family. 
 
 h Extinct or unknown. 
 
 i The Earl O'Mcl. 
 
 k Captain Magcuiiis, ncpliew of Lord Eiiniskillen. 
 
 I Iti-.hic.d and uiikiunvu. 
 
 .Mvlcs ((,r .M:iolinr>rdlia) John O lieillcy, Esq., of the 
 unty, is tlie acknowledged chief of 
 
 I Ireland — but an elder branch is said to exist i 
 
 llr:ithl 
 till' mil) 
 Erancc 
 
 n These branches of the ancient lords of the county of 
 i^oiigford, &c., are represented by Counsellor O'Ferrul, K. 
 C. and the member for Kildare, who is also chief of the 
 O'Moore's ancient Lords of Leix in tlie l^uecus county, &c. 
 
 The present member for itoscommuu. 
 
 p Uncertain. 
 
 q .Said to be extinct. 
 
 r Charles M'Dermot, Esq., of Coolavin, county of Sligo. 
 
 B Not known. 
 
 Thiibcr, also, went Tcifie, son of William, son (f 
 Teige, Dutf, O'Kellv :f,] and O'MiidigMi [u] (O'Mad- 
 den) Donall, son of .John, son of Brcasal. Thiiher, 
 likewise went the Earl of Clanrinekard,[v] UIck, na 
 gceann (of the heads) ; and the two sons of Giolla- 
 duff, 0'ShaughneKsey,[w] viz. John and Dcrmed. 
 None worth mentioning from the western side of Co- 
 naght went there except Murcha (or Morogh) na 
 Tiiaith, (of the Districts) son of Teige, son of Morogh, 
 sonof Rory 0'Flaherty.[x] 
 
 Thither, in like munncr, went the Earl of Tho- 
 moad,[y] Donagh, son of Conor, son of Donagh, son 
 of Conor, son of Turiogh, son of Teige O'Brion, 
 being one of the members elected to serve parliament 
 for the county of Clare. Thither went Turiogh, son 
 of Teige, son of Conor, O'Brian ; and the chief of 
 the western part of Clann Guilean,viz. Macnamara [z] 
 Johnson of Teige; and Baothghallach, (Boetius) 
 son of Aodh, son of Bnathgallach Mac Clanehj,[)i] 
 who was the second member of pariiament chosen to 
 reprerent Clare ; and also the son of O'Loghlin of 
 Burrin,[b] Ross, son of (Jaithne (Anthony) son of 
 Maolseaghlainn, son of Rory, son of Rory, son of 
 Ana ; tha son of O'Brien of Ara,[r] who was then 
 Bishop of Killaloe, i. e. Mortogh, son of Turiough, 
 son of Murtogh, son of Donall, son of Tcighe 
 O' Carroll, [d] Calvach, son of William, uidhir ( ho 
 pale) son of Fearganainim, son of Maolruana, son of 
 John; Mac Goghlin,[e] viz.: John, son of Art, son 
 of Cormae; and 0'Dwyre[fJ of Coill-na Manach, 
 Philip, son of Anthony. 
 
 Thither went the son of O'Brien of Cuanach,[g] 
 Murtogh, son of Turiogh. The Lord of Carrig-o- 
 coinill and Gonernorof Limerick [h] Brian duff (the 
 bUck) son of Mahon, son of Donagh, son of Brian 
 Duff O'Brian ; and Conor na moinge (of the long 
 hair) son of William caeeh (blind) son of Dermod 
 O'Maoilrian (O'Ryan) Lord of Uaiihne-I-Maoilrian.[i] 
 A considerable number of the chiefs of the Eogan- 
 achs i. e. the descendants of Eogan Mor, (the gaeat) 
 King of Munster, and of their difl'erent septs in like 
 manner repaired to that pariiament, viz. ; McCarthy 
 Mor [j] (the great) Donall, son of Donall, son of 
 Cormae Ladrach (the hasty.) McCarthy Cairbreachfj] 
 (of C'drhry.) Eogan, son of Danall, son of Finghin 
 son of Donall, son of Diarmod (Dcrmoii) an Duna 
 (of the Fort;_) and the sons of his two brothers, viz. : 
 Donall, son of Cormae na Haine, and i'inghin, son of 
 Donagh. 
 
 Tliither also came the two chiefs who were in con- 
 tention with each other for the Lordship of Duthaifjh 
 Ealla (Duhallow)[k] viz. : Dermod, son of Eogan, S( n 
 of Donagh, an Bothair (of the road,) son of Eogan, 
 son of Donagh ; and Donagh, son of Cormae Oge, 
 son of Cormae, son of Donagh. Thither, also, went 
 O'SuUivan Bearra.[l] Eogan, son of Dermod, son of 
 Donall, son of Donagh, son of Dermod balbh (the 
 
 t Festus O'KclIy, Esq., of Ticooly, county of Eoscoiu- 
 
 u Xot known. 
 
 V The present Earl, 
 w E.xtiiict. 
 
 X Thomas P. O'Flaherty, Esq., of Lemonfield, county of 
 Calway. 
 
 V The chief representatives of the O'Brian race are the 
 Earl of Thomoud and Sir Edward U'liliaii. 
 
 2 Major Mucnamara, the present county member. 
 
 a Unknown. 
 
 b O'Loghlin, Esq., of Burrin, the father of Sergt. 
 
 O'Loghlin. 
 
 c Extinct in the male dcscendcnts of this Murtogli, but 
 e.M'sliiigin the line of Douald Cuuachtach in Ara, wheio 
 tbey still liold some property. 
 
 d Tliere are several respsctable descendants, but the pres- 
 ent cliicf is not ascertained. The grandlatlicr of tlie Jlur- 
 chiouess Wellesley, who died in America, was the ac- 
 knowledged head. 
 
 e The last Mac Coghlan, died some years since without 
 issue, and his estates passed to the Daly family. We do 
 not know who is chief of this name now. 
 
 f g h Unkuown. 
 
 i Keduced and unknown — the territory in the county of 
 Tipperary. 
 
 j Extinct in the principal branches — present representa- 
 tives unknown. 
 
 k The Mao DonaghR— a branch of the Mac Carthy'a — 
 present representative unknowu. 
 
 1 The present O'SuUivan Bear. 
 
132 
 
 lUISII MISCELLAXY. 
 
 ■Uunmorer.) O'Sullivnn Mor,[m] (ilio great,) Uonall, 
 ion of Doimtl, i>oii ur Duiinll, nil t>^ri'iuliu|;liu (tlio 
 acreni'licr.) 0'AIiiliony,[iiJ ol" iho western dUlrict of 
 Fiiino, Conor, son of Conor Fiona O^e, son of 
 
 swcot timidity natural to hor sox, sho shrinks from 
 the publiu C)o.' 
 
 These were her first publlslicd cITorts — and tlic nj)- 
 plauso which ihey received, tlio cneourageiuenl of licr 
 [d] Conor Fioun, (ilie white or fair,) son of Conor I friends, and her own desire to bo useful, coniiirrini; to 
 
 O'Mahony; and 0'lIei<lirsgoil Mor,[o] (ilio greai 
 O'Driscall) Finghin, son of Conor, son of Finghin, 
 son of Conor. 
 
 Thitlier went also, Fitzpntrick of Osso'iy,[p] Fing- 
 hin, son of Brian, son of Brian, son of Finghin. Mac 
 GeogheKi\n,[q] Conia, son of Conor, sou of Liighna ; 
 nnd U'Mulloy,[r] Connll, sou of Catlioir. 
 
 None worth mentioning are said to have gone to timt 
 parliament of the descendants of Laisoach Leand Mor, 
 son of Conall Cearnaeh (i. o. the people of Lei.x or 
 family of (J'.More,[s] &e. ;) nor of the descendants of 
 Rosa Failgo, son of Catliaoir Mor from Ibh Failge 
 (the O'Connors Faly ;[t]) nor of tlieO'Cavanaghs,[u] 
 0'Byrncs,[v] O"rooles,[wj 0'Dunnes,[x] or O'JJcmp- 
 8ys.[y] At the conclusion, thither came the senior 
 chiefs of the Mao Kannalls,[2] (the chief of the Ran- 
 olagh tribe of the Byrnes,) Fiachadh, son of Aohd, 
 sou of John, son of Douuull glas (pale, wan,) from 
 Glinmalugra,[i] (now tileumaUire.) 
 
 All those Noblemen assembled in Dublin, and after 
 they had remained there for a considerable time, (al- 
 though the business of pailiamcnt was not finished 
 that year) they departed to their several homes. P. 
 
 m Extinct. 
 
 n O'Mahony, ICs<]., of Dunio near Killarnoy. 
 
 o Nut usccrtuiueU. 
 
 p Kxtinct. 
 
 11 .Sir Kichard Noglo of Donore, county of Wcslmeath. 
 
 r Uukuown. 
 
 8 Moore O'Fcrral, Esq., M. V. 
 
 t OX'onnor l'"uly of Mount riea-sant, King's co. 
 
 u Thomas Kavaiiaj-h, K^i., of Borria, cuuuty of t'arlow. 
 V w X y z Decayed and unknown. 
 
 It should be obscn-cd that in the preceding Notes, when 
 we stale that souiu of those ailgieiit lumilics uru e.xtincl, it 
 nuisl only Lu uuik'i^locul as apijlviiig lo Ihu iaiiiKjiliute 
 di'seeiiduuts of the chitls of tlii' period referred to bv tlic 
 aniinlist. as the fumiliLS all exist lu uunierous dLscelidaiils 
 Unrivcd from the parent ftock in earlier tinius. tnouj-h now 
 (Ceni'rally dicayt-daiut without heriditary properly. If in 
 any iiislance «« iiiny he in error, we shall be hajipy to cor- 
 rect it ousatistuelury evideuee. 
 
 overcome her natural bashfulness, she uiiderlook i 
 
 Ing had his property confiscated after the battle of tho 
 Boync, was obliged at last for existence, to become 
 the chief of a band of those hunted freeboolers term- 
 ed Kapparces. It is addressed to his mistress, who 
 appears lo have forsaken him on the loss of his for- 
 tune: wo may well commiserate tho fate of one who 
 
 at tho same time was tho victim of such accumulated 
 misfortunes. 
 
 Ah I wliat woes arc mine to bear, 
 Life's fair morn wllh clouds o'crcasting! 
 
 Uoom'd the viclim of dcB|mirl 
 Youth's gay bloom, pale sorrow blasting! 
 
 Sad tiic bird that siiif;B alone, 
 
 Flies lo wilds, unseen to laiiguish, 
 I'ours, unlx'ard, the ceaseless moan. 
 
 And wastes on descrl air its anguuh! 
 
 Mine, O hapless bird I thy fate — 
 'file plundered nesl— the lonely sorrow!— 
 
 The lost— luv'd— hannonious male! — 
 The wailing iii);ht— the cheerless morrow! 
 
 O lliou dear hoard of treasur'd love! 
 
 I'lu.UK'h these fund arms Khould ne'er possess thco 
 Blill— hlill my heart ils faith shall prove, 
 
 And its lust sighs shall breathe to bless thee! 
 
 The second stanza of the following Song is of 
 c-vtreme beauty: — 
 
 el hia 
 
 Or stri 
 
 ii(;r: 
 
 MISS BROOKE. 
 
 There are few writers, male or female, to whom we 
 think Ireland owes a greater debt of gratitude than to 
 Miss Charlotte Brooke, a lady whose patriotism led 
 her to translate some of our most beantil'iil jioeiical 
 remains, nnd whose talents enabled her to do tlicni 
 ample justice. For our own part, we regard her mem- 
 ory with the most alTeelionate reverence, and feci an 
 anxious desire to see her genius more fully appre- 
 ciated. 
 
 This distinguished lady belonged to n family in 
 ■which mind has been and still continues to bo hered- 
 itary. She was the daughter of the celebrated Henry 
 Brooke, the author of Gustavus Vnsa — tho Fool of 
 Quality, and other valuable works ; and she was tho 
 cousin of our worthy friend, W. II. Brooke, the artist, 
 whose admirable designs on wood and eoi)pcr are fa- 
 miliar to many of our readers, and who, we trust, will 
 long continue to exercise his talents to the honor of 
 his country nnd name. From her father she h.id tlic 
 ndvant.igo of a careful nnd liberal education, but it 
 is perhaps to tho discernment and encouragement of 
 judicious friends that we are chielly Indebted for tho 
 works that have attached such lasting honor to her 
 name, for she was by nature timid and retiring, nnd 
 would not without force, have 'sulTered herself to be 
 admired.' To gratify her friend Joseph Cooper Walk- 
 er, she made translations of a song and monody by 
 Carolan, to be inserted in that gentleman's interesting 
 Historic Memoirs of the Irish Bard.s— nnd to those 
 translations was prefixed the following preface, which 
 gives us a true insight into tho native modesty of her 
 character. 
 
 'For tho benefit of the English reader, I shall give 
 an elegant paraphrase of this monody by a young la- 
 dy, whose name I am enjoined to conceal; with the 
 modesty ever attendant on true merit, and wilh the 
 
 kbcrry's modest bloom 
 er.iig,Kreel»tliesiKht; 
 rnes, in ilieir rich perfume, 
 and bloom unite: 
 plant of lender vouth. 
 
 the year 1787, to translate a selection of the works of I could compose such music, nnd such verses, and who, 
 
 our Irish bards, and in tho following year gave the 
 
 world her inimitable Keliciucs of Irish Poetry. This 
 
 work obtained for her tho njiplause of all tho critics in 
 
 the periodical reviews of the time, one of whom, in 
 
 tho Monthly Keview for January, 17'J3, well observes 
 
 that she was ' so jicrfectly in possession of the lan- 
 guage of poetry, that her version has rendered tho 
 
 whole work interesting to English readers." 
 In tho year 1791, she again carao before tho public 
 
 in a work evincing her zealous anxiety to contribute 
 
 to the diffusion of knowledge and virtue — Tho School 
 
 for Christians, in Dialogues, for the Use of children. 
 
 In tho preface to this little work, she informs us that 
 
 'her only object in this publication, is the happiness of 
 
 seeing it become useful to her species, nnd the pleas- 
 ure of bestowing tho jirofits of tho book, on tho en- 
 largement of a little plan she has formed for the char- 
 itable education of children whoso parents are too 
 
 poor to alTord them tho means of instruction.' 
 
 This was followed by a work of pious veneration to 
 
 tho memory of her father; an edition of all his works, 
 
 to which she preli.xed an elegant httlo memoir of his 
 
 life : — and this was the last of her literary labors. On 
 
 tho 29th of March, 1793, she fell a victim to malignant 
 
 fever, at Cottage, near Longford. If the demon of 
 
 political turmoil bo ever banished from our distracted 
 
 country, and domestic jieaee take up her abode 
 
 amongst us, tho memory of Charlotte Brooke will bo 
 
 duly honored ! 
 
 To do justice to tho character of this superior wo- 
 man, would require more space than tho limits of our 
 little Journal would ]iormit; but there is oue feature 
 in it so pure nnd touching that we must not let it pass 
 without notice — it was her filial piety, tho extent of 
 which will be best understood from the following pas- 
 sage in one of her own letters. It is ad Iressed to a 
 female friend on tho subject of tho completion of the 
 edition of her father's works, a task which subjected 
 her to many mortifications, from tho dishonesty and 
 brutality of her printer ;— ' I suppose I shall lose con- 
 siderably, besides the far greater vexation of having 
 the work ill done, which is so very dearly paid for. 
 The paper is badly matched; the subscribers complain, 
 nnd those who do not understand the business will, 
 to bo sure, lay the blame upon me. But 1 have this 
 consolation, that tho fame of my father is justified. 
 The work is not tho less jierfect in itself, for the de- 
 fect of the paper ; and it will descend to posterity in 
 a state not unworthy of its author. Any censure that 
 may fall upon me, when compared with this consid- 
 eration, is not worth a thought. I have over lived but 
 for my father, and I shall not now divide my little 
 rivulet from tho parent stream. Oh, may wo never 
 bo divided!— may wo roll together to that sea ' from 
 whence wo never have return!' In life, my soul is 
 
 Tu II: 
 
 III outward charms 
 And Iruin within the sou! of truth 
 
 bolt beaming litis her eye. 
 
 Tulso of my licart! — dear source of care, 
 
 Stol'n sighs and love-brenlird vows! 
 Sweeter than wlien,1hrougli scented air, 
 
 tiny blouin the apple boufjlihl 
 Mith Ihce no days cau winter seem. 
 
 Nor frost, norblast can chill; 
 Thou the sort brec/c, tlie cheering beam 
 
 That keeps it summer still! 
 
 Miss Brooke — who, we should have observed, 
 cultivated -with great success, the arts of painting 
 and music, and -was a passionate lover of the 
 melodies of her country — remarks that ' the air of 
 these stanzas is exquisitely chamiing. But the 
 beauties of the music of this country are, at present, 
 almost as little known as those of its poetry. And 
 yet there is no other music in the -world so calcu- 
 lated to make its -way directly to the heart : it is 
 the voice of Nature and Sentiment, and every fibre 
 of the feeling breast is in unison -with it.' p. 
 
 his ; — in death I trust it shall join him I — You say I 
 know not what it is to have the heart exclusively cen- 
 tered in one object— you forgot my father when you 
 
 said so. I am indeed incapable of any other love 
 
 my heart was intended for that alone, nnd nature has 
 not, nor ever will have room for any other one. I see 
 none on earth who resembled him, and therefore heav- 
 en alone can become his rival in my breast.' 
 
 As a specimen of her poetical powers, wo should 
 give hor translation of Fitzgerald's ' Ode to his Ship,' 
 if our present space permitted, but wo must reserve it 
 for a future number, and in the mean time wc present 
 our readers with one or two examples of a lighter 
 kind. The following verses are from one of the Songs 
 ofEdmond (J'Kyan commonly called 'Edmond of 
 the Hills.' We should premise that this beautiful 
 song — the original melody of which breathes the very 
 soul of music, was the composition of one of the nn- 
 
 IRISH DEVOTEDNESS. 
 
 The following story is told of a retainer of O'Sul- 
 livan, lord of Bear and Bantry, in the reign of Queen 
 Elizabeth. O'Sullivan's strong hold had been 
 sacked and destroyed by the I^nglish — not even a 
 cow, garrane, goat or sheep had been left- and so, 
 O'SuUivan, consigning the care of his wife and child 
 to his faithful gossip, Gorrane M'Swiney, retreated 
 to Ulster, in the hope of being able to retrieve his 
 cause. 
 
 Gorrane, tvhose soul -was in his charge, returned 
 ■with them to a boolie he had set up under the foot 
 of the Eagle's Precipice at GlcngariiT. This boolie 
 or hut was so contrived that A\'ilmot and his Saxon 
 devils, (as Gorrane called them,) might scour the 
 mountain over and never see it, or suspect that there 
 was in such a desert a human habitation. It was 
 erected against the face of a rocky ridge, the roof 
 sloping down till it touched the moor, was covered 
 with scraws nnd sods of heath, so that the place ■was 
 undistinguishable from the shelving slope of the 
 mountain, and the entrance a long, distant, and 
 wijiding passage in the rock, and charcoal burned 
 on the hearth for fire — it was secure from suspicion. 
 But how -n'as the princess of Bear and Bantry to be 
 supported, not a cow was there to give milk, no 
 com, nor root, nor pulse. Gorrane had one salted 
 salmon wrai)ped up in a cow's hide ; that was all 
 his provision when they entered the boolie, and 
 where to go and seek for food, Gorrane knew not 
 under heaven, famine had spread over the southern 
 land— as Spencer says, ' the people of Munstcr ■were 
 brought to such wretchedness, that even a heart of 
 
 fortunate gentlemen who attached themselves to the stone would have rued to see the same ; for out of 
 fortunes of the last king of the Stuarts, and who Lav- ' every comer of the woods and glyness they came 
 
IRISH MIS€ELLAl>rY. 
 
 133 
 
 croepinp; forth on their hands and knees, for their 
 legs could not bear them ; they looked like anatomies 
 of death, they spake like ghosts crj-ing out of their 
 graves ; they did cat the dead carrion, happy were 
 they when they could find them ; yea and one an- 
 other sometime after ; insomuch that the very car- 
 casses they spared not to scrape out of their graves, 
 and if they found a plot of watcr-crcsscs and sliani- 
 lock, there tliey flocked as to a feast." 
 
 In this extremity of desolation was the south-west 
 of Cork and Desmond, when Gorrane took home 
 his charge to his hoolie, and the poor fosterer knew 
 not what to do — all his trust was that God was good, 
 and the Virgin Mother his protectress, would not 
 fail him in his hour of need. And as thus one morn- 
 ing he was ruminating, he rambled under the preci- 
 pice where year after year the eagles of the valley 
 had nested and reared their young ; and looking up, 
 he saw one of these huge birds sailing on steady 
 wing with a hare within its talons, and now it 
 alighted on its rock-nest, and anon the j'oung eagles 
 were shrieking with triumph over the divided prey. 
 'Arrahnowis it not the greatest pity in life that 
 these young hell birds that look for all the world 
 like the childer of these cramming beef-eating devils 
 the Saxon churls — my heavy curse light upon them 
 all — that these greedy guts should be after swallow- 
 ing the game that nobody has any right to, but 
 O'Sullivan ; and my sweet mistress and her little 
 ones, all the while starving. Now, it's I that have 
 a thought in my head, which no living soul but the 
 Virgin herself could have put into it, and it's my- 
 self knows what I'll do.' So home Gorrane went, 
 and all day long he was seen busy twisting firmly 
 •with all his might, a rope made from the fibres of 
 the bog-fir, and towards evening he took out from 
 his store, his salmon, and gave the greater part to be 
 broiled for supper, and long before the following 
 day-break, Gorrane got up from his bed of heath, 
 and he awoke Phadrig, his son, a boy of fourteen 
 years old : 'Phadrig avich get up, come along with 
 me.' The boy light and active, was beside him in 
 an instant, and out they both started — the father 
 ■with his wooden rope in his hand. Just as the day 
 was breaking, they came to the brink of the moun- 
 tain ridge that ascends from the precipitous valley, 
 where the eagles build their nest ; and just as they 
 arrived at the verge of the chasm, they saw the old 
 eagles soaring away to meet the sun and to seek for 
 their prey over land and sea. ' Phadrig, acushla, 
 look down there,' says the father, ' look down below 
 and see that bird's nest — down there you must go 
 by the help of this rope ; if you have any regard for 
 the life of the mother that bore you, and of the 
 sweet mistress, ior whom we are bound to live or 
 spend our blood and die. You must go down by 
 the help of this rope, and tie these straps that I will 
 give you round the necks of yonder gaping greedy 
 guts ; don't choke them for the life of you, but just 
 tie their ugly necks so tight that not one morsel can 
 swallow.' ' And now father sure it's I myself that 
 would desire no better sport than to get down and 
 wring their necks off, and bring them up to you ; 
 but sure father the Lady O'Sullivan must be cruel 
 hungry when she would eat eagles.' ' Oh, that 
 •would not do at all at all Phadrig jewel, that would be 
 the spoiling without the cure of the whole thing — no, 
 my honey, handle them gently, treat the nasty things 
 as if they were your mother's daughters— only do, 
 Phadrig, just as I bid you.' ' Well, father, mind 
 you hold tight, and I will do your bidding.' So 
 Gorrane fastened well the rope about the boy's waist 
 and between his legs, and down he lowered him in 
 the name of God and all thes.aints. The youth soon 
 got to the nest — as he was bid, tightened well the 
 necks of the young eaglets, so that they could not 
 swallow; then he was safely drawn up. For an 
 hour or two the father and son waited near the nest, 
 and at length were gratified with seeing the old ones 
 come soaring down the wind, one with a rabbit, an- 
 
 other with a grouse in their talons, which they de- 
 posited in the nest and after a time flew away. 
 
 ' Now Phadrig avourncen, down with you again, 
 and to be sure it's I that will hold you tight — gut 
 the game, throw the garbage to the young ones, it's 
 right and nathral they should have it, and bring up 
 under your two arms 0' Sullivan's rightful jiroperty.' 
 All this the boy did •with address and expedition ; 
 and in this manner -ivere the family in the boolie fed, 
 until the English retreated from the country, and the 
 wife of O'Sullivan and her faithful followers could 
 reach a place of safety. — Sketches in Ireland. 
 
 i m*^ » 
 
 FISHING IN IRELAND— THE CILLAROO TROUT. 
 
 The Gillaroo is a species or variety of trout not 
 merely peculiar to Ireland, but found only in some of 
 tlie lakes of the Shannon and the western part beyond 
 it — a wild but romantic region, in which the lover of 
 the picturesque, the antiquary, the maturalist, and the 
 angler, will equally find sources of pleasure, and such 
 as he could hardly meet with elsewhere. 
 
 A fish, nineteen and one-half inches long, five and 
 four-tenths thick, twelve and six-tenths in circumfer- 
 ence, and weighing four pounds, was cauglit with a 
 worm, on the seventh of August, 1824, in a deep hole 
 near the mill at Cong, in the county of Mayo, a spot 
 of singularly romantic beauty. This hole or pool, is 
 a portion of the river which connects Lough Mask 
 with Lough Corrib, and whose course for the greater 
 part is subterranean. Here we may descend into a 
 cavern festooned with foliage, and see the fisher boy, 
 plying his rod beneath a living rock of sixty feet in 
 thickness. We shall give a sketch of this extraordi- 
 nary scene in a future number. 
 
 The peculiarities of the Gillaroo trout are so accu- 
 rately described by Sir Humphry Davy in his charm- 
 ing Uttle book, Salmonia, that we gladly present the 
 passage to the reader, in preference to anything we 
 could ourselves offer. 
 
 ' Poiet. — I have heard various accounts of the ex- 
 cellent fishing in some of the great lakes in Irelaud. 
 Can you tell us any thing on the subject, and if the 
 same flies may be used in that island ? 
 
 Hal. — I have been several times in Ireland, but 
 never at this season, which is considered as best for 
 lake-fishing. I have heard, that in some of the lakes 
 in Wcstmeath, very large trout, and great quantities 
 may be taken in the begining of June, with the very 
 flics we have been using this day. Wind is necessary ; 
 and a good angler sometimes takes in a day, or rather 
 formerly took, from ten to twelve fish, which weighed 
 from three to ten ponnds, and which occasionally were 
 even larger. In the summer after June, and in the 
 autumn, the only season when I have fished ni Ireland, 
 I have seldom taken any larger trout ; hut in the river 
 Boyle, late in October, after a flood, I once had some 
 sport with these fish, that were running up the river 
 from Loch (Lough) Key to spawn. I caught one day 
 two above three pounds, that took a large reddish 
 brown fly of the same kind as a salmon fly ; and I saw 
 some taken that weighed five pounds, and heard of 
 one that equalled nine pounds. These fish were in 
 good season, even at this late period, and had no spots 
 but were coloured red and brown — mottled like tortoise 
 shell, only with smaller bars. I have in July, likewise, 
 fished in Loch Con, near Ballina, and Loch Melvin, 
 near Ballyshannon. In Loch Con the party caught 
 many small good trout, that cut red ; and in the other 
 I caught a very few trout only, but as many of them 
 were gillaroo or gizzard trout as common trout. 
 
 Poiet. — This must have been an interesting kind of 
 fishing. In what does the gillaroo diftor from the 
 trout t 
 
 Ilal.— In appearance very little, except that they 
 have more red spots, and a yellow or golden coloured 
 belly and fins, and are generally a broader and thicker 
 fish ; but internally they have a different organization, 
 possessing a large thick musi-ular stomach, which has 
 been improperly compared to a fowl's, and which gen- 
 erally contains a quantity of small shell-fish of three 
 
 or four kinds ; and though in those I caught tho 
 stomachs were full of these shell-fish, yet they rose 
 greedily at the lly. 
 
 Poiet. — Are they not common trout wliich h.avo 
 gained the habit of feeding on shell-fish ? 
 
 Hal.— If so, they have been altered in a succession 
 of generations. Tho common trouts of thesa lakes 
 have stomachs like other trouts, which never as far 
 as my experience has gone, contain shell-fish ; but 
 of tho gillaroo trout, I have caught some not larger 
 than my finger, which have had as perfect a hard 
 stomach as the larger ones, with the coats as thick 
 in proportion, and tho same shells within ; so that 
 this animal, is at least now a distinct species, and is 
 a sort of link between the trout and clmr, which has 
 a stomach of the same kind with gillaroo, but not 
 quite so thick, and which ieeds at the bottom in the 
 same way. I have often looked in the lakes abroad 
 for gillaroo trout, and never found one. In a small 
 lake at the foot of the Crest of the Brenner, above 
 4000 feet above the level of the sea, I once caught 
 some trout, which, from their thielaiess and red 
 spots, I suspected were gillaroo, but on opening tho 
 stomach I found I was mistaken ; it had no particu- 
 lar thickness, and was filled with grasshoppers ; but 
 there were char which fed on shell-fish in the samo 
 lake. 
 
 Poiet. — You spoke just now of the gillaroo trout, 
 as belonging only to Ireland. I can, however, hardly 
 bring myself to believe, that such a fish is not to bo 
 found elsewhere. For lakes with sheil-fish and char 
 are common in various parts of Europe, and as tho 
 gillaroo trout is congenerous, it ought to exist both in 
 Scotland and the Alpine countries. 
 
 Hal. — It is not possihle from analogies of this kind 
 to draw vertain inferences. Subterraneous cavities 
 and subterranean waters are common in various coun- 
 tries, yet the Portius Anguinus is only found in two 
 places in Carniola, at Addilsburg and Sittich. As I 
 mentioned before, I have never yet met with a gillaroo 
 trout, except in Ireland.' 
 
 We shall only add that the gillaroo trout is frequent- 
 ly taken of six or seven pounds weight, and that it is 
 considered by many as a great luxury. p. 
 
 WITCHCRAFT IN KILKENNY. 
 
 In our next number, we intend giving something of 
 the history of Kilkenny ; but at present, we will just 
 present a short account of the witch-burning business 
 that took place there about the year 1.325. The peo- 
 ple of Kilkenny need not be ashamed of it ; for scarce- 
 ly more than a century has gone by since the Scotch 
 had a witch burning business of their own; and even 
 in many parts of Engl.ind the people still dread the 
 effects of the evil eye, and the mutterings of an old 
 hag. AVIiat we are going to relate occurred in ihe 
 reign of Edward the Second, about five hundred years 
 ago. 
 
 The Lady Alice Kelter, was summoned (in or about 
 1325) before the Bishop to answer to the charge of 
 practising magic, sorcery .and witchcrafD. She and 
 her accomplices Petronilla and B.asilia, were accused 
 of holding nightly conferences with an imp or evil 
 spirit called Robin Artisson, to whom, in order to 
 make the infernal thing obedient to all their commands, 
 they sacrificed nine red cocks in the middle of the 
 highw.ay, and oficred up the eyes of nine peacocks. 
 Tho Lady Alice, by means of this imp and his asso- 
 ciates, caused, every night, the streets of Kilkenny to 
 be swept between the hour of complin prayer and day 
 break. And for what did she do this ! To sweeten 
 the town and make it agreealjlc ? No such thin". 
 Witches are not so benevolently inclined. But it was 
 for the good of her greedy son that she did it, one Wil- 
 liam Utlaw, a great land pirate, an avarus Africola 
 a fellow who monopolized all the town parks, and 
 grasped at great possessions. So the cunning moth- 
 er had all the filth of the city raked to herson's door, 
 to help him to manure his meadows, and such of the 
 inhabitants as ventured to go out at uight, heard uu- 
 
134 
 
 lllISIl .MISCELLANY. 
 
 mrilily brooms plyiiiK over the cnufcwny, ami fcarfu' 
 
 luiikinc scini-njrt-rs »ir« iil tliiir ilirly work, seouriiu 
 
 anay to a slow clioriis cliaiitiil lu follows : 
 
 *To (he houFe of Witlinm my foii. 
 Ilk' all till' ncnllli ul' Kilkenny town!' 
 
 Ilul tills WHS not nil. Tho Liiily Alice lu-nt even 
 Ciiplnin Frincy the roliber, niul nil Ills Killyniount 
 gnng in riding iimiil tlio dttrkncss of ni;;lil. Nu soon- 
 er were the nine pcacork's cyos thrown into tho fins. 
 
 than np rose lloliin tlic imp, nnd presented his potent 
 misiri'ss Willi n pot of oinimcnt with which she oiliil 
 lier liroomslick ; nnd then moiintinf( n» (jny ns Mcjc 
 Mcrrilccs the Scotch lm(f, nnd havinn nlonj: wiih her, 
 Petronillii nnd Bnsilia, her denr friends, she performed 
 II ni(;hi'sjoyrney in a minute, and used to hold a Siili- 
 lint will) other enchunters on tho Devil's ])it in the 
 county of Tipperary ! 
 
 This business made a irrcat noise at the time. The 
 
 Lady Alice Keller, having powerful friends, escaped 
 to foreign pnrln; her necomplice, I'elroiiilla, was burn- 
 ed at tho cross of Kilkenny. William Uihiw suflered 
 a long imprisonment. On searching the Liidy Alice's 
 closet, (us Ilolliiigshed rehiles,) they found a fnera- 
 mental wafer, hnving Satan's name stnmped thereon, 
 and n pipe of ointment with which (.he greased her 
 slalT", when she would iimble and gallop through thick 
 nnd thin, through fair weather nnd fnnl. n« she listed I 
 
 THE CAVE OF D U N M O 11 E . 
 
 TAE CAVE OF DUNMORE. i 
 
 To the great and peculiar extent of calcarious or 
 
 limestone strata of which our island is composed, wei 
 
 ,. „ ., 1 ,. .,. <. ., , , entrance yawns, about eiuhty (liftv) feet periicndii 
 
 may chienv attribute the fertility of our soil, and the , . \ . „ . , , , „ 
 
 , , . ',, ,. J •, J , and from lliirtv to lorty wide, ovei-hung ana tes 
 
 snlabmy of our climate; and it we dared venture to .... ." u ' ii j • 
 
 fnthom the intentions of an Almighty and benelicent 
 Providence, we would point to this geological peculi- 
 arity, as a signal instance ol His wisdom and goodness, 
 a.s, exposed as we are to the exhalations of the Atlan- 
 tic, and the influence of westerly winds, our soil would 
 otherwise be unproductive and our climate uuhealty. 
 To the same cause, is to be attributed much of the pecu- 
 liarly romantic bcauiy of which we may justly boast; ^ 
 our waterfalls without number, our subterranean 
 rivers, our natural biidgcs, our perpendicular sea 
 clifls, and above all, our fairy caverns ; all these are 
 
 el field, a precipitate inclined plane leads down to a 1 
 sudden pit, across which, like a vast blind arch, llio 
 
 ular, 
 stoon- 
 ed with ivy, lichen, bramble, nnd a variety ot wild 
 shrubs, and tenanted by the owl, the daw, and the 
 carrion crow, that made rustling and scieaniing exit 
 into the daylight as soon as disturbed by an e.xi)loring 
 foot; and when all at once, you stand on the verge 
 of the descent, and look from the cheering day into 
 the ])itch darkness of this gaping orifice, repelling and 
 hilling the curiosity that it excited, — giving a prom- 
 ise of something to bo discovered, and a threat to the 
 discoverer, — suggesting a region to bo traver.sed so 
 ditlerent from our own fair familiar world, and yet a 
 
 in almo^t every instance, the result of this extensive 
 
 nameless danger to be incurred in tho progress, — your 
 
 ... . , I r , ■ i heart must be cither verv callous or verv bold, and 
 
 culcanous formation, and are consequent! v found in . . . ,, ', „ , . ' ■ 
 
 , ,. , . , . , imagination entirely a blank, if, at the first glance, you 
 
 no other country of the same extent, m equal variety,' , , '' a -^ 
 
 , ji', i> ..t' feel no unusual stir within you. 
 
 beauty and abundance, fllost strange it is, that a ^ 
 
 land so blessed and ornamented by ilic hand of Prov-j '■^'"'«'" .™" «"'<=■" '•'<= moMh of the cavern, the light 
 i.'ence, should be so little appreciated, and too oftem of your torches shew you that vast masses of rock pro- 
 abandoned by those lo whom its fertility gives wea'th, '""'^■. overhead, ready at every step to crush, and held 
 
 and to whom its beauty should give delight and hap- 
 piness. 
 
 We have alluded to the great number of calcarious 
 caverns found in Ireland — they are to be met with in 
 ill the provinces, and rival each other in romantic 
 leauty, but that best known for its size and extent i 
 
 in their place as if by miracle alone. A short distance 
 on, two separate passages branch to the right and to 
 the left. To explore the one, a barrier of steep rocks, 
 made dangerous by the damp slime that covers them, 
 should be scaled; then you proceed along a way of 
 considerable length, sometimes obliged, from the low 
 
 formed l.y petrification, drop upon drop, it is astound- 
 ing to think of tho incalculable number of years con- 
 sumed in the process. And this is the regal fairy hall; 
 and t'':e peasants say, that when the myriad cryslaliza- 
 tions iliHi hang about, arc, on a nala evening, illumi- 
 nated, and when the forever falling drops sparkle in 
 the fairy light, the scene becomes too dazzling for 
 mortal vision. 
 
 'The other passage winds an cqnal distance, and 
 leads to the subterranean rill that bubbles, as before 
 mentioned, over scraj.s of human bones; and over 
 some entire ones, too; we having, when led to tho 
 cavern for scenic illnstraiion of the facts of this history, 
 adventurously plunged our hand into the clear water, 
 1 and taken therefrom a tibia of unusual length; and, 
 1 indeed, the fact that such human relics are there to bo 
 seen, almost a (luartcr of a mile from the light ol tho 
 1 earth, must, if we reject the peasant's fine superf titioD, 
 I show us the misery of some former time of civil con- 
 ' flict, that could compel any wretched fugitive to seek, 
 in the recesses and horrors of such a place, just as 
 much pause as might servo him to starve, die and 
 rot.' 
 
 I The above description is from that powerful work 
 I of fiction, -Crohoore of the bill-hook.' 
 I Yours, P 
 
 .he oiie of which we present our readers with a sketch "^ss of the heading, to stoop on hands and knees, still 
 
 in the present number— the Cave of Uunmorc. This o^'^"" slipl'iry rocks, and over deep holes, forme<l by 
 
 famous cavern, which is situated near the edge of the '•'« <-onstant dripping of the roof; till at last you sud- 
 
 calcarinns district, ia the county of Kilkenny, on the denly enter a spacious and lofty -jpartment, known by 
 
 estate of the Maniuess of Ormor.d, and about three ''"^ ""'"<= »'' ''"^ market-cross, from lU containing a 
 
 miles from the beautiful inland capiiol of Ireland, is petrified mass that has some likeness to the ancient 
 
 llms accurately described by the able pen of -Mr. Ba- ""'• curious structure, so called. Indeed, throughout 
 
 nim— a writer of whom not only Kilkenny, bat all ""= "hole chamber, the awful frolic of nature bears 
 Ii eland may justly feel proud. It leaves us nothing' comparison with art— ranges of llutcd columns, that 
 
 to add. seem the production of the chisel, only much dilapi- 
 
 'The absolute physiognomyofthc place is calculated dated by lime, rise almost at correct distances to the 
 
 to excite superstitous noiious. In_ the midst of a lev arching roof; by the way, having necessarily been 
 
 When the poet Campbell was a student in the Glas- 
 gow University, he loi.mcd with an elder brother, who 
 though a poet himself, was a shrewd, dry eridc. One 
 morning, as he sat alone at breakfast, his poet brother 
 entered, and laid on the table a copy of verses, as his 
 excuse for being late, at the same time asking Mr. 
 Campbell's opinion of their merit. He read them 
 through quietly, then made the characteristic and sat- 
 isfactory criticism — 
 
 ' Your verses nre admirable, Tom, my boy ; but 
 they lack fire.' And, suiting the action to the word, 
 the merciless critic coinmillcd the paper to the flames. 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 135 
 
 THE EMIGRANT'S FAREWELL. 
 
 The last bit?eze from Erin 
 
 lias iinssod o'er my brow, 
 The pale of the oeeau 
 
 Is over me now; 
 I leave thee my country! 
 
 FnrcwcU ! thongli thou art 
 The life pulse that stirs me, 
 
 The veins of my heart ; 
 
 Erin muvourneen, farewell! 
 
 I gaze where the bright sceuo 
 
 Falls back to the west, 
 And tinges the bine clouds 
 
 That bang o'er thy breast; 
 The bark bears me trom thee 
 
 To sail o'er the deep, 
 AVhile on thy green bosom 
 
 1 gaze — and I weep; 
 
 Erin niavourneen, farewell! 
 
 I weep for thy spring ti mo 
 
 Of beauty is o'er; 
 And feel, while my dimm'd eyo 
 
 Is on thy loved shore. 
 Like the mourner when fixing 
 
 His gaze on the dead. 
 He bends o'er the cold earth 
 
 Whose spirit is fled ; 
 
 Erin mavourneen, farewell! 
 
 The tear-drooping willow 
 
 Hangs over thy lyre; 
 The chill blast bath broken 
 
 Each soul-stirring wire: 
 Through the gloom of thy darkness 
 
 Xo day-beam appears ; 
 And thy sweet type, lernc, 
 
 Is gemm'd by thy tears ; 
 
 Erin mavourneen, farewell. 
 
 Farewell! for no longer 
 
 I gaze on tliy shore ; 
 The mists are between us, 
 
 I view thee no more! 
 Perhaps to my country 
 
 I breathe the last strain ; 
 Perhaps I may never 
 
 Behold thee again ; 
 
 Erin mavourneen, farewell! 
 
 Though in darkness, lerne, 
 
 Tliy sun may have set; 
 Thy emerald bosom 
 
 I ne'er can forget; 
 And while o'er the deep ocean 
 
 The breeze bears my bark. 
 My heart like its billow. 
 
 Heaves deeply and dark; 
 
 Erin mavourneen, farewell. 
 
 THE WILD AMERICAN PIGEON. 
 
 The following very singular circumstances respect- 
 in" the wild pigeon of America, are taken from an 
 account of them by John James Audubon, Esq., 
 F. R. S. &c. &c. These birds migrate in flocks so 
 ■vast over the whole extent of the United States of 
 America, that we could scarcely credit the account, 
 were it not sufficiently attested. Possessing great 
 powers of flight, and great powers of vision, they 
 pass over immense tracts of country in a short space, 
 and can discern their food with a quick eye, alight- 
 ing in prodigious numbers wherever they see a suf- 
 ficient supply. Mr. Audubon, who in the autumn 
 of 1813, travelled along the banks of the Ohio, says, 
 ' whilst waiting for my dinner at Young's inn, at 
 the confluence of Saltlliver with the Ohio, I saw at 
 my leisure, immense legions still going by, with a 
 front reaching far beyond the Ohio on the west, and 
 the beech-wood forests directly on the cast of me. 
 Yet not a single bird would alight ; for not a nut or 
 acorn was to bo seen in the neighborhood. They 
 consequently flew so high, that difi'ercnt trials to 
 reach them with a capital rifle proved ineffectual, 
 and not even the jjeport disturbed them in the least. 
 But I cannot describe how beautiful their aerial 
 evolutions were, if a black hawk appeared in their 
 rear. At once, like a torrent, and with a thunder- 
 like noise, they formed themselves into a solid com- 
 pact mass, pressing each towards the centre ; and 
 when, in such solid bodies, they zig-zaggcd to es- 
 oape the murderous falcon, now down close over 
 the earth, sweeping with inconceivable velocity, 
 
 then ascending perpendicularly, like a vast monu- 
 ment ; and, when high, were seen wheeling and 
 twisting within their continued lines, resembling the 
 coils of a gigantic serpent. 
 
 ' Before sunset I reached Louisville, distant from 
 Ilardcnsburg fifty miles, where the pigeons were 
 still passing, and this continued for three days in 
 succession.* 
 
 Concerning their numbers, he says, ' we shall take, 
 for example, a column of one mile in breadth, which 
 is far below the average size, and suppose it pass- 
 ing over us without interruption for three hours, at 
 the rate mentioned above, of one mile per minute. 
 This will give us a parallelogram of ISO miles by 
 one, covering ISO square miles, and allowing two 
 pigeons to the square yard, we have one billion one 
 hundred and fifteen millions one hundred and thir- 
 ty si.x thousand pigeons in the flock ; and as every 
 pigeon consumes fully half a pint of food per day, 
 the quantity must be eight millions seven hundred 
 and twelve thousand bushels per day, which is re- 
 quired to feed such a flock. 
 
 Mr. A. paid a visit to one of their roosting places 
 to which they repair at night, and where they are kill- 
 ed in hosts by persons who frequent the spot for that 
 purpose. This place is not far f om the Green River 
 in Kentucky. My first view of it was about a fort- 
 night subsequent to the period when they had chosen 
 this spot, and I arrived there nearly two hours before 
 the setting of the sun. Few pigeons were then to be 
 seen, but a great number of [persons with horses and 
 waggons, guns and ammunition, had already estab- 
 lished ditferent camps on the borders. Two farmers 
 from the vicinity of Russelville, distant more than 100 
 miles, had driven upwards of 300 Iiogs to be fattened 
 on pigeon meat; and here and there the people, em- 
 ployed in picking and salting wliat had already 
 been procured, were seen sitting in the centre of large 
 piles of those birds, all proving to me tliat the number 
 resorting there at night must be immense, and proba- 
 bly consisting of all those then feeding in Indiana, 
 some distance beyond JefFersonville, not less than l.'iO 
 miles off. The dung of the bird was several inches 
 deep, covering the whole extent of the roosting-place 
 like a bed of snow. Many trees two feet in diameter, 
 I observed were broken at no great distance from 
 the ground, and the branches of so many of the largest 
 and tallest so much so, that the desolation already ex- 
 hibited equally that performed by a furious tornado. 
 As tlie time elapsed, I saw each of the anxious persons 
 about to prepare for action; some with sulpliur in iron 
 pots, many with poles, and the rest with guns double 
 and treble cliarged. The sun was lost to our view, 
 yet not a pigeon had yet arrived — but all of a sudden 
 I heard a general cry of ' Here they come!' The 
 noise which they made, though d'stant, reminded me 
 of a hard gale at sea, passing through the rigging of a 
 close-reefed vessel. As the birds arrived, and passed 
 over me, I felt a current of air that surprised me. 
 Thousands were soon knocked down by the polemen. 
 The current of birds, however, kept still increasing. 
 The fires were lighted, and a most magnificent, as 
 well as wonderful and terrifying siglit was before me. 
 The pigeons, coming in by millions, alighted every- 
 where, one on tlie top of another, until masses of them 
 resembling hanging swarms of bees as large as hogs- 
 heads, were formed on every tree in all directions. 
 These heavy clusters were seen to give way, as the 
 supporting branches, breaking down with a crash, 
 came to the ground, killing hundreds of those wliich 
 obstructed their fall, forcing down otiier equally large 
 and heavy groujis, and rendering the whole a scene 
 of uproar and of distressing confusion. I found it 
 quite useless to speak, or even to shout to those per- 
 sons nearest mo. The reports even of the different 
 guns were seldom heard, and I knew only of their go- 
 ing off by seeing the owners reload them. 
 
 No person dared venture within the line of devasta- 
 tion, and the hogs had been penned up in due time, 
 the picking up of the dead and wounded suHcrers be- 
 ing left for the next morning's operation. Still the 
 pigeons wore constantly coming, and it was past mid- 
 
 night before I perceived a decrease in the number of 
 those that arrived. The uproar continued, however, 
 the wliole night; and as I was an.xious to know what 
 distance the sound reached, I sent off a num, who, by 
 his habits in the works, was able to loll, two hours 
 afterwards, that at three miles he heard it distinctly. 
 Towards the approach of day the noise rather subsid- 
 ed ; but, long ere objects were at all distinguishable, 
 the pigeons began to move off in a direction quite dif- 
 ferent from that which they arrived the day before, 
 and at sunrise none that were able to fly i%maincd. 
 The howling of the wolves now reached our cars, and 
 the foxes, the lynx, the cougars, bears, rackoous, opos- 
 sums, and polecats, were seen sneaking ofi' the spot, 
 whilst the eagles and hawks of different species sup- 
 ported by a hoard of buzzards and carrion-crows, came 
 to supplant them, and reap the benefits of this night 
 of destruction. 
 
 A MoTHEii's Love A'^Tiat sweet poetry is con- 
 tained in three little words. Is there a sentence to 
 be found in any language that is more replete with 
 sentiment, beauty, grace, or flnish. A mother's 
 love ! How noble ! How self-sacrificing ! How 
 unceasing are her efforts in guiding aright the foot- 
 steps of her children ! What privation will she not 
 endure ; what perils will she not encounter for the 
 sake of her 'loved ones!' From our earliest in- 
 fancy 'tis our mother who watches over us with 
 untiring devotion; who notes every change in our 
 looks, both in sickness and health, and, with loving 
 arms twined around us, bids us nestle close, close, 
 up to her breast. And oh ! with what perfect con- 
 fidence we nestle there, fearing nothing, caring 
 nothing, only to be folded more closely and feel the 
 warm pressure of her lips upon our checks. How 
 our hearts bound beneath the loveful glances of 
 her soul-lit eyes, as she bends them upon us beam- 
 ing with a light so pure and holy ! With what 
 delight does she listen to our childish prattle, and 
 observe each wiiming grace ! How fondly she gazes 
 upon us, and what a glorious future she paints for 
 us ! Then, as the thought comes that, as we ad- 
 vance in years, she may be taken from us, and we 
 be left to the cold charities of this world, her heart- 
 felt prayer ascends to the Throne of Grace, beseech- 
 ing Him to guide and direct our steps, so that we 
 may be prepared to meet her in a brighter and bet- 
 ter world. Sorrows may come upon us, friends 
 may forsake us, and the present aflTord not one 
 cheering ray, yet will our mother cling to us with a 
 love so abiding that her cheering tones and loving 
 words make us forget the world's rude and bitter 
 jests. Never, on this earth, can we find a friend so 
 steadfast, and one in whom we can repose such 
 lierfect confidence as our mother. How holy is a 
 mother's love ! 
 
 Beigands and Railways. — It would seem, says 
 a letter from Rome, that the brigands of Italy are 
 by no means disposed to give up their profession in 
 consequence of the introduction of railways. A 
 railroad, not more than nine miles in length, con- 
 nects Rome with Frascati. On the 28th ult. an 
 unvisually large number of passengers had taken the 
 train for the latter place ; a circumstance, it ap- 
 pears, of which the bandits of the neighborhood 
 were well aware, for in the interval they surprised 
 one of the signal men on the most deserted spot of 
 the line, and then hoisted a red flag as a signal of 
 danger. The engine-driver, on approaching, saw 
 the signal, and stopped the train ; immediately two 
 men sprang upon him, and secured him, while their 
 confederates leisurely opened the doors of the rail- 
 way carriages, and rifled the pockets of all within, 
 without the slightest opposition. After this opera- 
 tion the train was allowed to continue its route. 
 
 Hospitality is commanded to be exercised even 
 towards an enemy when he comcth to thy house. 
 The tree doth not withdr-aw its shade even from the 
 wood-cutter. 
 
186 
 
 IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 CARRICK-ON-SUIR. 
 
 Carrick-on-Suir stanils on tlic spot where one of 
 their enrlicst strongholds was ercctcil. It formed part 
 of the possessions of Theobald Butler, to whom were 
 granted also the lands of Cnrri^-mac-Griffin, now 
 Carrick-Bcg, and whose grandson Kdmon<l built a 
 casilc here about 1300. The casile was, in 1336, 
 pmnied by his son, James Butler, to the Franciscan 
 friary of Carrik-Berj;, which he had fouiultd, and it 
 continued to form part of the endowment of the house 
 until the year 1445, when the monks havinf; let it go 
 to niin, it was purchased from them by another of the 
 Butlers, who rebuilt both castle and bridge. A priory 
 dedicated to St. John the Evangelist, was founded 
 here at the ind of the thirteenth or beginning of the 
 fourteenth century. A castle was erected afterwards 
 on the site of the priory, by Thomas Duft", called 
 Black Thomas, Earl of Ormonde. In 1500, the Earl 
 granted a charier to the burgcsse.'- of the town, which 
 had gradually sprung up round the fortress. In 1670, 
 
 C A K R I C K - O X - S L- 1 R . 
 
 another Duke of Ormonde established the woollen in it, 
 and it flourished until the close of the last centnry, 
 when, as everywhere else in Ireland, it began to de- 
 cline, till now it only turns out a few sattecns of an in- 
 ferior dcsciipiion. This manufacture formed the prin- 
 cipal means of support of thousands of families in va- 
 rious parts of Ireland, the spinning and weaving being 
 carried on in their houses, until the improvement ot 
 machinery absorbed it into the great towns of Eng- 
 land. 
 
 The town is pleasantly situated on the banks of the 
 Suir, which forms the boundary between \\ exford 
 and Waterford. E.^icept for its antique air, its pleas- 
 ant rustic quiet look, the calm flow of the river, and 
 the glorious scenery of the surrounding country, there 
 is little in it to interest the stranger. In its leading 
 characteristics it is like all the Irish counlry towns 
 I hat we ever saw — and we have seen a great many — 
 one long and wide street running east and .-est at 
 right angles to three smaller streets diverging north 
 
 ward to the fair green, and one southward to the river; 
 a police-barracks, a military-barracks, a tannery, a 
 brewery, a court-house, a ruined church, a chapel, a 
 fever-hospital, a dispensary, a monastery, a convent, 
 voila tout. The castle is still stately, even in its ruins, 
 and part of the old town walls may now be traced, 
 but with some dilBcully. The scenery along the banks 
 of the Suir, is exceedingly beautiful, and in the eyes 
 of all who reverence genius, eloquence and patriotism, 
 they will have an addbional interest from the fact 
 that, wandering along them, Kichard Lalor Shell pass- 
 ed some of the happiest hours of his youth. Here, 
 also, the unfortunate gentleman of the Young Ireland 
 party delivered their last harangues, previous to tho 
 attempted outbreak in 1848, Meagher's containing the 
 cclehrated allusion to the sinking of the Trench frigate 
 Vcngcur, which tlic Carrick policeman, who reported 
 the proceedings, not understanding, converted inio 
 (he laughable hodge-podge which gave such amuse- 
 ment at the Clonmel trials. 
 
 An Irish Mko Merriliks.' — At almost every 
 constabulHry station in Ireland — central or remote — 
 even of Donegal — a wandering eccentric, named Ma- 
 ryann Lcckey, of more than middle age, superior in- 
 telligence, keen and ready wit, good a<ldre8s, and with 
 the lingering indications of youthful comeliness, is well 
 known snd hospitably received. Upon the sympathy 
 of that force she considers that she has a special claim, 
 her husband — long .-.incc dead — having been a respect- 
 ed though humble member of it — in fact, a sub. con- 
 stable. In a stormy midni;,'lit of January she startles 
 the patrol on a lonely road among the bleak, brown 
 hills of Kerry, like an unearthly apparition; on a 
 dreary evening in the next month, she will be found 
 entertaining a select body of her ' troops,' as she 
 proudly styles the constabulary, by their cheerful turf 
 fire, in a far-away valley of Aiiirim — ihc juniors gap- 
 ing in mute wonderm'.nt at the extent of her informa- 
 tion on subjects of peculiar interest to them, from the 
 last hedge-side aS'^ossinaiion in Tippcrary down to the 
 metropolitan murder fur which Spollen should have 
 been hanged. ' Poor XIaryann,' it is needless to say, 
 is miserably destitute — hunger-pinched, thinly-clad, 
 and weather-worn — yet ptefcrving in full vi^or that 
 happy national light-hfartedut S3 which overleaps all 
 the smaller misfortunes of life with a bound and a 
 laugh. When she indulges in a joke, it is generally 
 mingled with sarcasm at once pointed and repelling. 
 Any attempts at pleasantry with regard to her ante- 
 cedents or present babiis she iudignanily cliei ks. Those 
 
 who have known her longest and most intimately, and 
 whose familiar designation for her is ' The Sub,' occa- 
 sionally entrust her with the transmission of private 
 messages, and even parsels, to their friends in the force' 
 at long distances ; and these are certain to bo delev- 
 ered, within marvellously short time, at their respec- 
 tive destinations, however far asunder. It is stated 
 that a visit from the ubiquitous ' Sub ' is regarded 
 somewhat in the light of an omen of good luck at 
 many a police barrack. We have been informed thati 
 her former history was as romantic as her present ca- 
 reer is erratic. She is understood to be the only and] 
 accomplished daughter of a minister of tho Estab-' 
 lished Church, who held a benefice near New Koss, 
 county Wexford. Conceiving an imprudent attach-i 
 ment towards a handsome and intelligent private iu| 
 the constaliulary, she eloped with him, became his 
 wife, and was immediately discarded by her family! 
 I The loss of her husband, about four years subsequentj 
 ly, left her in bitter penury, with two orjdians depend ] 
 ent upon her, whose de.ith.s, from direst privation, de-] 
 , ranged her intellect. She was an inmate of a lunatic! 
 ! : syium in t'le North for more than three years, and 
 I was d schaiged as cured ; but, manifestly, she is still 
 j half-insane. She lately made her appearance at a Po-| 
 lice Court, c'larged with some trivial offence insepara- 
 ble from her wandering but not dishonest habits ; and, 
 • after making unsought aiquaintance with one of the; 
 reporle, 9, aildressed him in a very neat and pointtdl 
 speech, and then claimed more than equal familiarity i 
 
 with a resident magistrate, Mr. Tracy, and Head Con- 
 stable Henderson. Her eloquence ensured pardon, 
 and she left the court with the intention of proceeding 
 direct te Limerick, to review ' our troops,' expressing 
 her adieus in the form of 'three cheers and loud laugh- 
 ter for the honorable Mr. Tracy.' 
 
 Pkice of a PicTfUK IX Hard Times. — The Lon- 
 don Athcnicnm says, Mr. Frith, we hear, even at 
 this crisis of imi)Ccuniosity, has sold his Epsom 
 Race picture for the enomious sum of £3,000, in- 
 cluding a sketch and copj-right. Think of what 
 Milton got for 'Paradise Lost,' or even Raphael for 
 his masterpieces, and rejoice, ye Pittori, in these 
 days of luxury and wciJth. 
 
 The wrestler Arpin, alias the Terrible Savoyard, 
 who has been in the habit of displaying his immense 
 strength, has met his death in a very sudden manner 
 at Nismes, where he was exhibiting before an assem- 
 blage of from 12,000 to 15,000 spectators. When 
 wrestling he was thrown by his adversary, and came 
 down with such violence that his back was broken, 
 and he died almost immediately. 
 
 A lawyer in one of the Western courts, lately threw 
 a cane at the head of another. The court required 
 him to apologise for it. He did so and added : 'While 
 I am about it, I may as well apologise before-hand for 
 throwing another cane at him the first chance I get.' 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 137 
 
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 'Clan Alpine,' Salcm, Ma.ss. It was after the retreat o f 
 the Romans from Britain, that the inhabitants of Scotland 
 were divided into clans. 
 
 There can bo no doubt that armor was used in Ireland 
 prior to the English invasion, as it is repeatedly mentioned 
 in history prior to that time. Ossian says: 'I saw Gaul 
 in his armor and ray soul was mixed with his,' &c. This is 
 in a scene laid in Ireland in the third centurj'. 
 
 'D,' Charlestown, Mass. Your poetry approaches too 
 close upon caricature for our colnras. 
 
 'D. Desvir,' St. Pauls, Minnesota. The battle of Augh- 
 rimwas fought on Sunday the 12th of July 1091, when the 
 Irish forces were defeated and St. Kuth the French general 
 was killed by a cannon ball. Up to the moment of his 
 death the tide of battle was in favor of the Irish, but as he 
 had not communicated his plans of operation to the Irish 
 generals, confusion and defeat ensued. 
 
 'JiiilN McCoNXELL,' 2d Infantry, Fort Randolph, Ne- 
 braska. We have received your subscription for one year, 
 and sent all the back numbers. 
 
 iRisH miscellany; 
 
 BOSTON, SATQRDAY, APUIL 10, 1858 
 
 LANDLORD STARVATION IN DONEGAL. 
 
 The fate of Ireland is a sad one. Blessed by Omnipo- 
 tence with one of the most fertile soils in Europe, with a 
 genial climate — rivers and harbors the most magnificent — 
 and a people, who for toil and patient endurance have no 
 equals— yet the horrible fact stares us in the face, that no 
 nation is more cruelly governed — on no other land do the 
 people suffer for the commonest products of the earth. 
 
 At the present moment, great numbers of our ancient 
 race at home are perishing for the want of food and cloth- 
 ing, owing to the most heartless and infamous persecution 
 of a few soulless landlords in the county of Donegal. The 
 attention of our readers has been called to this case by our 
 Dublin Correspondent and we will again venture to call 
 their attention to this heart-rending matter, with the hope 
 that something will at once be done in this country, to alle- 
 viate the terrible situation of the sufferers. 
 
 The facts of the case are briefly as follows :— The inhabi- 
 tants of the mountains of Donegal are of the pure old Cel- 
 tic stock, and have, with their purity of blood, preserved 
 intact the faith of their Celtic forefathers. Donegal is the 
 most Catholic county in the north of Ireland; indeed but 
 few counties in the south are so thoroughly Catholic. Every 
 attempt made upon the faith of the people of this county 
 has proved abortive. They despised the bribes of the sedu- 
 cer with the spirit which enabled them to withstand the 
 persecutions of the dark penal days. 
 
 The district surrounding Gweedore and Cloughaneely is 
 remarkable for the extent of mountain and bog. Here the 
 people have been allowed to cultivate tracts of mountain 
 laud and patches of bog, for feeding a cow or a sheep, and 
 the produce of these animals was the chief support ot their 
 owners. To reclaim these wastes was a work of great la- 
 bor. Sea weed, for manure, had to be brought from the 
 coast and carried on the backs of the people to the moun- 
 tain top. The stubbornness of the soil yielded to the in- 
 dustry of the hardy peasants, and the bleak summits be- 
 came clad with verdure. 
 
 Up to this time those mountain and bog lands were utter- 
 ly useless to their owners; their reclaimation was never 
 dreamt of by their wealthy proprietors. No sooner had 
 they become capable of pasturing a cow or a sheep, then 
 exhorbitant rents were demanded for them, the poor 
 people having no choice had to render up the fruits of their 
 sweat and toil, and pay to grasping landlords a yearly 
 rent per acre of from £1 to £2— much more than we pay in 
 this country for the entire fee simple of a western farm 
 
 Not content with extorting from the people a rent so 
 racking, these cruel landlords determined to convert the 
 mountains and bogs, made prolific by the sweat and blood 
 of their tenants, into gigantic sheep walks. They surren- 
 dered the heritage of the people into the hands of a few 
 English and Scotch graziers. The people were evicted— 
 their mountain homes became the abode of English and 
 Scotch sheep. 
 
 After a while many of these animals were missing. Some 
 were found in the bog holes, others could not be found 
 at all, while others succumbed to the rigors of a climate to 
 which they were strangers, and their bones were found 
 bleaching in the sun. In the peculiar state of the law— 
 landlord-made law— in Ireland, the exterminators were 
 enabled to turn this to their own advantage and carry out 
 the destruction begun. It was asserted that the beasts had 
 been carried of by the evicted tenants, and the grand jury 
 assessed an enormous sum as their value upon the district, 
 and ordered it to be gathered as a tax from the poor peas- 
 ants of Gweedore, Cloughaneely and the surrounding neigh- 
 borhood Large bodies of police were also quartered upon the 
 district, and to maintain them, another tax was levied upon 
 The wretched inhabitants, a tax of a fearfully large amount 
 these taxes were collected by the police at the point of the 
 bayonet; and the little provision made by the people for 
 the winter, was, in many cases, seized and sold to pay the 
 grand jury assessment, and this army of idlers quartered 
 upon a peaceful and law-abiding people. The misery— the 
 starvation consequent upon this state of things, is almost 
 too dreadful to believe; and unless the facts were attested 
 by the testimony of all the Catholic priests of the district, 
 it would be impossible to realize the fact, that hundreds of 
 innocent people have been plundered of their all, in the 
 name of the law, and left to perish of hunger, that English 
 and Scotch beef and mutton might thrive in lieu of men 
 and women made in the image of God. Yet such is the 
 fact. 
 
 Every breeze from the North coa.st of Ireland that comes 
 rushing over the Atlantic, brings with it the sorrowful wail 
 of hunger and starvation from the mountains of Donegal. 
 Has Ireland no claim upon her children here ? Did the 
 passage of the ocean blot from our memories the remem- 
 brance nnd the love of those dear ones left behind ? Have 
 the blessings of freedom in this Republic made us so con- 
 tented with our lot, that we must look with indifference on 
 those pcii hiug for want, ill that old land which we boatt is 
 
 over present in our minds 7 Have the ties of blood, of 
 country and religion no claim upon us ? Forbid it every 
 noble thought; every generous impulse; every devout aspir- 
 ation. Forbid it Heaven. 
 
 What, then, is to be done ? Wc have, it is true, just passed 
 through a most severe commercial crisis, and thousands of 
 our countrymen here have, during the past winter, been un- 
 employed, and deprived of those resources which in better 
 times they enjoyed. The gloom of the past winter is now fast 
 disappearing, and Avith the genial rays of spring, employ- 
 ment becomes more plenty. Lotus, then, make an cflbrt 
 in behalf of those who have so many claims upon us. Let 
 all give a little; that little will swell into a large tribute 
 from the exiles here, to their suffering countrymen in Don- 
 egal. It will cheer them in their suiferings, and alleviate 
 the misery which now threatens to annihilate them. Let 
 the work of charity and of duty be no longer delayed. We 
 shall be happy to receive the subscritions of such of our 
 readers as wish to forward them to us. The names of the 
 subscribers shall be inserted in our paper, and their sub- 
 scriptions forwarded to Ireland without delay. The pro- 
 prietor of the Irish Miscellany hands in five dollars as hia 
 donation for the sufferers. Who will follow ? 
 
 PUBLICATIONS RECEIVED. 
 
 The Metropolitan. New Series. Edited by M. J. Thcmcy, 
 A. M. April, 1658. Baltimore, John Murphy & Co. 
 This able monthly contains the interesting biographical 
 sketch of Pius IX, continued, and has several excellent arti- 
 cles on other matters, among which areLafitte and Prof.Morse 
 Christmas Festivals, Illustrated Books for the Y'oung, 
 Sketches from Irish History, Impiety Subdued, The Oxford 
 Ghosts, Miscellanea, Review of Current Literature, Lit- 
 erary Intelligence. &c. 
 
 Tha Catholic Youth^s Magazine. Published with the appro- 
 bation 01 the Most Reverend Archbishops ofBallimore 
 and Cincinnatti. April 1858. Vol. 1. No. 8. Baltimore: 
 John Murphy & Co. 
 
 This is a neatly got up illustrated magazine, well suited to 
 youth of tender years. It is issued monthly, in small quar- 
 to form, contains thirty-two pages, and is sold for the very 
 ow price of fifty cents a year. At a time when the land is 
 deluged with vile literature, demoralizing society and sap- 
 ping the foundation of all that is virtuous and holy, it is 
 cheering to see the exertions of the publishers to supply 
 youth with a publication containing so many pleasing and 
 instructive tales, well adapted to their tender years. This 
 little magazine ought to be in every family. 
 United States Democratic Review for April. 
 
 This leading organ of Democratic principles comes to us 
 laden with several interesting papers on 'What Congress 
 should do for us,' The Public Lands, Defeat of the Palmers- 
 ton Ministry, Passages from the life of Raphael, &c. It also 
 contains portraits of distinguished democrats, and interest- 
 ing biographical sketches. 
 
 NEW MUSIC. 
 
 From Russell and Richardson : — Hungarian Song — 'Now 
 the Shades are falling,' Sconcia; 'Mother, O, Sing me to 
 Rest;" Evening,' 'Spring of Love,' by Robert Franz; 'Ma- 
 ry's Dream, by Fred. Beyer; 'Call me Sweet Names,' poetry 
 by Mrs. Osgood, music by Giovanni Sconcia; 'Coronation 
 March,' by Carl Zerrahn. These pieces sustain the well 
 known reputation of the composers and arc arranged for 
 the piano with much care and skill. The melody is perfect, 
 and they are destined to become very popular. The pub- 
 lishers have issued them with the excellence which charac- 
 terizes everything coming from this well known establish- 
 ment. The words are in English and German. 
 
 'Leviathan Collection of In.strumental Music,' contain- 
 ing over 500 pieces, by Elias Howe; 'Young America's In- 
 structor for the Violin,' containing the fullest instruction 
 and about200 pieces of the latest and most popular musicof 
 the day. A similar work to the above, for the flute, by the 
 same author, and 'Howe's New School for the German Ac- 
 cordeon. These works are got out in excellent style, and 
 we commend them to the attention of our musical readers. 
 
 BACK NUMBERS. 
 
 Having reprinted a large edition of the first number of 
 the Miscellany, we are now enabled to supply all the back 
 numbers of our paper to those desirous of obtaining them 
 New subscribers will thus be enabled to have our paper 
 complete from the commencement. Those in want of No, 
 I, shonld order it immediately. 
 
 The Irish Vindicator, is the name of a very neat and 
 good looking newspaper, published in the city of New Y'ork, 
 by Edward D. Connery & Co., and sold at three cents a 
 copy, or :$1 50 a year. Mr. Connery, some time ago, be- 
 came well known to the public by the fierce and malignant 
 assaults made upon him bv the press of New York, lor his 
 enoeavors, as a coroner oi'that citv, to bring the murderers 
 of Dr. Burdell to justice. It was well understood at the 
 time, that the attacks upon Jlr. Cnnnery. were owing to 
 the fact of his being an Irisliinnn,- the nliilily displayed by 
 him on that investigation was hateful to the young bloods 
 who do the reporting for mo.^f of the New York i>a|)ers. 
 Mr. Connery has survived their malignity, and, in addition 
 to his duties as a coroner, has returned to a profession in 
 which he previouslv had great practical e.xiierieiice. 
 
 The Vinilieutor iscondueled with much atnlily.its cditoriiils 
 are written with a vigorous jien, and ]m>>c,.s ilir titic .spirit 
 
 in <'.\islence, and wc are glad lo hear th;it il meets with great 
 success. 
 
138 
 
 IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 Wrilteii lor lliv 3IiM-i'llu 
 WILLY REILLV. 
 
 nv m*"ii.\ui> orLAiiA! 
 
 climb i;p to you for the purpose of presenting on 
 1. O. U. Then how delightful it is to hear the rain 
 pattering upon the roof— a pleasant sound it has, 
 
 but it is in itstlf friglitfully uncomfortable, when a 
 
 (S« Carlcton'n 'Willy Itfilly aud his Dciir Collion Ilnwn.') body is out in it and not possessed of an 'anibril.' 
 
 I Some oriental poet who of course nourished long 
 
 CORRESPONDENCE. 
 
 Duui.iN, Maiicii, ISS!*. 
 
 The new ministry is fairly in hitrnuss, and the Earl 
 
 of Derby has announced his progrnnunc. The fall 
 
 of Lord Palmerston look crery one by surprise. It 
 
 is somewhat singular that it should have been caused 
 
 _„ . , , ,, ., ,„, .. Some oriental poet who of course nourished loni: 's somewhat singular that it should have been caused 
 
 BcoauMhe lovcJ lii» native lillla, his creed and Colleen , , . . •■uuiisuiu luiiy -- , .. „ . 
 
 j,,„T,_ I before the theory of the ' chaste moon' being 'the "? * "o""" of Milner Gd.son's. Mr. Gibson was for- 
 
 NorMtnoiild Wliitecraftlctlilm have, that bloody Siuxon '^''^■••■""^=*'' "f """<'=*' was discovered, imagined that '""rly member for Manchester, and in the Houso of 
 
 III ii''"'m"' It. I 1. r I the rain was occasioned by the peri's weeping for the ''°'"'"on9 strongly opposed the war j.olicy of the lato 
 
 Uia blood-ho'unds knew the rajJisH track ou fallow, road 
 
 or mere 
 And many hair-breath 'fcajKs had he, throughout the jw- 
 
 nal year; 
 They burucd down his princely hall, his household goods 
 
 destroyed,* 
 And stood liku demons round the pile, with vengeance un- I 
 
 alloyed ; 
 But strong in virtue, brave and bold, and huiiliil like the 
 
 beast, 
 The young ehior often smote them down, to save his faith- 
 
 fiil priest. 
 
 I'oor priests! yc dwell in mansions now above the sainted 
 
 Isle, 
 Andonyour falthnil followers look down with cheering 
 
 smile: 
 rnre priests! yonr bods are now not made of rushes, heath, 
 
 or stones. 
 Within some cold and darksome cave, to rest your sickly 
 
 bones! 
 Your persecutors, too, arc gone, with ."iiicreligious souls, 
 To claim reward for damning deeds— the meed that heaven 
 
 delete; 
 May he be near thee. Keilly, who went up the rugged pass 
 With feeble steps upheld by thco, to say that mountain 
 
 mass. 
 
 Those 'smcllpriesis' of the penal days were but the proto- 
 Ipyes, 
 
 Of those who ban the Catholic beneath your 'stars and 
 frtripes'j 
 
 The Irish Orange crew arc here, the mentors of your youth, 
 
 Instilling bigotry for love, and blasphemy for truth. 
 
 The cotton ship may burning be, unseen, unknown for 
 days. 
 
 Till giant-like, up, up it starts, one bright, victorious 
 blaze! 
 
 Then brothers, let us prudent be,— our courage none de- 
 nied — 
 
 And win back Colleen Bawn to life— our Mother and our 
 bride! 
 
 tlic rain was occasioned by the peri's weeping for the 
 sins of mankind; this might or might not have been 
 the case, but if it were, I should look ui)on the 
 peri's aforesaid, as being so many Job Trotters 
 (you remember Job in Pickwick, don't you, who 
 could ' let on the water works' whenever he so de- 
 sired •) and on many occasions would most respect- 
 fully suggest to them the propriety of 'bottling up' 
 their tears. Yet still the rain is a ' great imstiiu- 
 tisn,' and n rainy day, if you happen to be com- 
 
 fortably ensconced witliin doors, affords more scope ' T ^'"7''"=^"°"' '"'' '•i^-'PP^ved by the Man 
 for tlmught, for the memories of bv™,ed.vs.th:n f'<='=-'™'l'='«. ""d at the general election, the 
 
 for tliought, for the memories of bygone days, than 
 a battallion (to borrow a military expression) of 
 pleasant ones. Some poet, I forget whom, lias 
 worked up this idea very prettily, lie says— 
 
 'And fallingon his wcarv brnin 
 
 Like a liisl ralliiiL- showi-r 
 Tliu (lieaniii nlyoulli ecinu! buck again 
 l.ow lispiiigs uf till. suinincM- n,iu 
 Dropping on the ri]iciicd giuia 
 
 As once upon tl 
 
 opposK 
 rriiue Minister. The war with China was condemn- 
 ed by many of the lending siiirils of tlie old free-trade 
 party, as immoral and unjust. IJut the constituents 
 of Gibson and Bright being manufacturers of calico, 
 were anxious to extend their market for their goods 
 irrespective of the means used to eflect it. The slaugh- 
 ter of a few thousands of Chinese was noiliing to 
 lliem, if they could only see more of their manufac- 
 tured cottons. The course of Bright and Gibson on 
 the war (|nestion, was disapproved by the Manchester 
 
 two 
 
 Written for the Irish Jlisccllauy. 
 INK DROPS; 
 
 FKOM THE I'EX OF THE 'QrEER COVE.' 
 
 No. 1.— From my Attic. 
 
 I confess, Mr. Editor, to an intemperate passion 
 — to a love like that of Jonathan for David, • ex- 
 ceeding the love of woman' — for an attic. I have, 
 as Ralph Waldo F.merson obscr\-es, ' an old joy of 
 childhood and youth, a catlike love of garrets.' I 
 believe I was bom in a garret, and have taken 
 kindly to them ever since that, to me, eventful oc- 
 casion. This love has 'grown with my growth, and 
 strengthened with my strength,' perhaps from a 
 two-fold reason: in the first place, I imagine that, 
 in a garret I am as near heaven as I ever shall get, 
 (because I fear that like Jack Falstaff, I am 'little 
 better than one of the wicked,') and secondly, be- 
 cause the expense of roosting in such a 'local habi- 
 tation' is much less a drain upon the pocket than 'a 
 front flat' or a ' two pair back.' 
 
 But there are other considerations apart from 
 these why a garret is my first love. The view from 
 a window that is elevated at least to the si.vth 
 story, is. like some of Mrs. Dunlap's French rnppec, 
 ' not to be sneezed at.' You may descant on sub- 
 urban residences and rural views as much as you 
 please, but, sir. after all, the prospect from an attic 
 window, is not. in my estimation, to be surpassed. 
 Look at the motley array of roofs, chimney-pots 
 and tiles that meet our view on every hand; the 
 latter according to their antiquity, and their many 
 different colors, looking like rough mosaics, or the 
 checks in the dress of some gigantic liarlcquin. 
 AVhy, what fun there is in watching the hundreds 
 of grimalkins, when out on their nocturnal foravs 
 
 Delicious, isn't it ? The poetry, I 
 rain. 
 
 Showers, however, arc great favorites with poets 
 and dramatic authors, especially those of the melo- 
 dramatic order, for you well know, Mr. Editor, 
 that all stage assassinations are committed in the 
 midst of a terrific storm of thunder, lightning, and 
 the rattling of peas, which is intended to represent 
 rain. Jupiter, who was not at all particular as to 
 the manner in which his amours were conducted, 
 won the fair Dana} in the guise of a golden shower, 
 and the result was the birth of Perseus, whose good 
 fortune it was to turn the monster Atlas into stone, 
 by showing him the head of Medusa the Gorgon. 
 whom he had conquered. Jove's conquest of Dan:e 
 was I believe the first and only instance on record 
 of a woman having been won, as you may say, 
 ' with a wet blanket.' Most females, I am inclined 
 to believe, rather prefer to be wooed after the man- 
 ner in wliich Glcnalvon intended to woo Margaret 
 Douglass, to wit— 'as the lion woo's his bride.' 
 However that mode may be. you may possiblv 
 know. Jlr. Editor, but 'by'r lady' I do not. 
 
 All scribblers, or at least nine-tenths of them, 
 you know, live in attics. Byrou says; 
 
 Wheu Athens' armies fell at Syracuse 
 Redemption rose up in her Attic muse,' 
 clearly proving that at least the Athenian poets in- 
 habited garrets. A\Tiether or no the greatest of the 
 Greek poets — Homer, — 
 
 'The blind old man of Scio's rocky isle, 
 ever lived in a garret or not, I am unable at pres- 
 ent to inform you, but will tak« time to consult 
 authorities on that point at the earliest possible 
 moment. Like 'Fusbos,' in Bombastes Furioso, I 
 can only say that I live 
 
 •In a parlor that's close to the fkv, 
 ' fis cxiiofcd to the wind and the rain, 
 Iiut the wind and the rain I defy.' 
 
 and between ourselves, not to let it go any farther, 
 I rather like it. 
 
 In my next. I will give you an insight into my 
 favorite authors— who live with me, neatly done up 
 in calf, and are the means I have of making the 
 time fly swiftly by. -\nd now with your permis- 
 sion I will 't.ik my auld cloak about me.' take my 
 'nightcap' and as Mr. Bryant has it — 
 'Liu down to pleasant dreams.' 
 
 Ax Apt Answeu.- ' Well, honest fellow,' said a 
 village upstart to a farmer at work in his field, • 'tis 
 
 Andthencrow-ning jovofall,"anTttie"rs7whlfro'.^"^T-^^^ ^^^'''"''' I«'^'-^*"f? "I'"" "'« "I"''''')' of this country 
 
 up. that no duf, w;uld ever have he t meritv to ' mL - f t" ^""^ \ ''"^ """'• '"^"^"^ ''"= ^'"^ ' •'■"^'=''° ^'^'^""•'"g "^ '"•'«"^^- "•« I""-^"^ °' ""= f-"" 
 w,v iin, iLiiitriiy lo mer. lor 1 am sowui'^ bemn r i ,• *• ,- ■ , ■ l 
 
 >..u =v«iii„ iitinp. ful guardians of our religion were treated with con- 
 
 members of Parliament were rejected by their con- 
 stituents. 
 
 Soon after, Briglit was taken hold of by the people 
 of Birmingham, and sent to represent ihc metal man- 
 ufiicturers in Parliament. Gih.son remained oat of 
 Parliament until a very short time ago, and he 
 was in the House of Commons, I believe, only a few 
 days, when, by his motion, he defeated the strong 
 ; not the eo^'cinment of Lord Palmerston, thus taking signal 
 I vengeance upon the minister who had caused bis 
 (Gibson's) defeat at the Manchester election. 
 
 It is impossible yet to say, how far the change of 
 government will benefit this country. Certainly. Ire- 
 land cannot be treated worse by the Earl of Derby, 
 than she was by the defunct minister. It is said that 
 we may expect a good 'tenant right law' from the new 
 government; if so, Ireland will have cause to bltss 
 Milner Gibson for his defeat of Palmerston. Time 
 will repeal how far this expectation will be realized. 
 
 AVe have, as you arc aware, a body of Irish mem- 
 bers in the British Parliament, called the 'indepen- 
 dent opposition;' if these men could despise the bribes 
 of England, and remain true to Ireland, .some good 
 might come of their 'opposition.' But, alas! it is 
 such men who produce the Sadlier's. the Iliggin's and 
 Fitzgeralds. Too many of them for their oppressed 
 country, and seek the first opportunity to betray it. 
 They seem to have no fixed plan of action, and pre- 
 cisely at the time wlicn their votes would tell wiih 
 fearful effect upon a government inimical to Ireland, 
 they become, by some strange blunder, as powerless as 
 a rope of sand. 
 
 Thus, on the question of a want of confidence in 
 Palnierston's Ministry, which cerlainly cannot be ac- 
 cused of any kind deeds to Ireland, these 'indepen- 
 dent opposition' members, all but two, forget their 
 own country, and rush to the aid of ilie governnicnt. 
 Derby is now in power, and he has nothing to thank 
 our liberal Irish members for. 
 
 The conduct of the late government towards Cath- 
 olic soldiers in India, was of the most infamous kind. 
 Large sums of money were squandered upon Protes- 
 tant chaplains, while the paltriest pittance was doled 
 out to Catholic priests, and a few of them only were 
 permitted to receive the wretched sum allowed. 
 
 The new ministry has, by some of its members, de- 
 clared, tliat this state of things shall exist no longer, 
 and that the spiritual wants of the Catholic in the 
 army, shall be cared for as well as those of the Pro- 
 testant. For this, however, we have little to thank 
 them. They could not help themselves. Kecruits 
 are wanted at the rale of a thousand a week, and they 
 could not bo had. The Catholic refused to fight the 
 battles of n government which would leave him to die 
 on the battle-field without those spiritual consolations 
 which every Catholic prizes so highly. Recruits can- 
 not bo had in Ireland. Hence, probably, the cause 
 of the change which the new government announces. 
 The government of Palmerston turned a deaf ear to 
 the remonstrances of the Catholic clergy in India and 
 Ireland. Relying upon the aji.ithy of this country 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 139 
 
 tempt, tlio peoplo were appealed to, thoy refuse to 
 enlist, niui llie victory is Irelands. 
 
 There can bu no question that without Ireland, Eng- 
 land woulil soon become a tenth rate power. It is 
 Irishmen who compose two-thiids of her army and 
 navy. Deprive her of these, and what will she be- 
 come 1 We have now learned the power we possess, 
 and I hope it will be turned to good account. What 
 liave the Sepoys done to Ireland, that Irishmen should 
 volunteer to butcher them ^ I trust means will be 
 taken to stop the enlistments now going on in Ireland 
 for the British army. Let the people be taught that 
 the war in India is an unjust war, and tliat every man 
 participating in it will be held accountable at the bar 
 of Divine Justice, and depend upon it, Britannia will 
 have to sijuint in another direction for her recruits. 
 The Celts of Donegal are not forgotten by our noble 
 and gencrous-hoaried countrymen. Ireland has respond- 
 ed wiih alacrity to the calls in their behalf, the subscrip- 
 tions for their aid are coming in from .ill parts of Ire- 
 land, and our countrymen in England are cheerfully 
 cooperating with us for the preservation of?the Done- 
 gal mountaineers. Have Irishmen in America forgot- 
 ten the land of their birth ■; or may we expect their 
 zealous cooperation 1 
 
 The Natiox of the 6th, is out with a strong article 
 in defence of George Henry Moore, late M. P., 
 against ' Irish American Correspondents.' The par- 
 ticular correspondent aimed at is the Dublin corres- 
 pondent of the New York Irish News. lam slightly 
 acquainted with the gentlemen referred to, and I think 
 the N.VTifiN had better have let him alone. He is 
 much beloved by his countrymen here, and, I doubt 
 not, he has hosts of friends in the United States where 
 he formerly resided. However, he is quite able to 
 take care of himself, and you may expect a slashing 
 letter from Kilmainham, in the N. Y. Irish News in 
 reply to the Nation. 
 
 The Celt has ceased to be published weekly, and 
 is now a monthly periodical. This is a publication of 
 great merit, and I commend it to the notice of my 
 countrymen in America. 
 
 Samuel Lover has brought out a book of Irish songs, 
 illustrated with some fifty very excellent engravings. 
 The work contains numerous critical and historical 
 notes upon matters of great interest, and is well worth 
 the attention of some Irish publishers in America. I 
 had the pleasure of seeing here a very beautiful vol- 
 ume of the ' Ballads of Ireland,' published by Dona- 
 hoe, of Boston, which was brought to this country by 
 a friend of mine who returned home for the good of 
 his health. If Mr. Donahoe will take hold of this 
 volume of Lover I am sure it would meet with im- 
 mense success in your Republic. 
 
 The DuBLi . Jou n.'L, which I mentioned in my 
 first letter to you, is improving in appearance and 
 matter. Its circulation is also rapidly extending. I 
 am glad of this, as these Irish pictorials arc calculated 
 to do much good, and drive from the hands of our 
 young people the wretched and immoral trash of nov- 
 els and romances which ought never to be seen in the 
 hands of a Christian. Avonmoee. 
 
 MF.I.R0SE BIGOTRY. 
 
 Editor of the Irish Miscellany : — 
 
 Sir: — Permit me to address you as a fellow-coun- 
 tryman and co-laborer in defending the character of 
 Irishmen. In doing so, I wish to inform you of a 
 circumstance which occurred in the town of Melrose. 
 The Catholics of this town have lately formed a so- 
 ciety for the purpose of supporting a Sunday .school 
 for children ; which numbers some fifty members at 
 present, although formed but one month. The so- 
 ciety wished to procure a hall to meet in, and hold 
 their Sunday school, and was promised a room in 
 ' Mud Hall,' (called so on account of its being built 
 of cement called concrete,) but owing to the relig- 
 ious intolerance of the Episcopal society, worshiping 
 in the same building, Ave were prevented from hav- 
 ing it. This society of Christians, save the mark, 
 declared they would not stay Ave minutes in the 
 
 building if it was let to the Irish ! There's a speci- 
 men of Christian htmiility for you ! A great many 
 of the Catholics of this town are not Irish ; yet I 
 wonder if these high church Episcopalians would 
 refuse to enter Heaven if they found any native of 
 Ireland there ? I beg to inform them that Irishmen 
 were welcome guests there a thourand years before 
 their Episeopalianism was heard tell off. 
 
 However, we are not to be put down by intoler- 
 ance like this, worthy ol the descendants of the per- 
 secutors of the Quakers, and the witch-burners. 
 We now hold the meetings of our society in the 
 large hall over Knight's apothecary store, and the 
 following gentlemen are its officers. 
 
 Thomas A. Long, President ; John Gately, Yiee 
 President; John B. Walker, Treasurer; and M. A. 
 McCafFerty, Secretary. Hoping you will notice this 
 matter in your very neat journal, which is exten- 
 sively read in this place, and wishing it every suc- 
 cess, I remain yours, 
 
 A BOSTON BOY. 
 
 Melrose, March 23, 18-58. 
 
 [From the Dublin Celt.] 
 
 THE ROUND TOWER AND CHURCHES OF HOLY 
 
 ISLAND. 
 
 It was a lovely evening about the end of June, 
 when we landed on Holy Island.* The setting sun 
 was just visible above the dark outline of the 
 Baughta Mountains. A magnificent sheet of water 
 gemmed with some half dozen beautiful islands, 
 extended for miles all around. Southward the 
 rugged breast of one of the Ara Mountains reflected 
 back from its shelving quarries of slate the depart- 
 ing rays of the sun; and as it swept down into a 
 well cultivated country, it assumed a rich drapery 
 of chestnut and oak, which dipped their overhang- 
 ing branches in the clear water beneath. The Clare 
 coast too was finely wooded; where here and there 
 along its borders, the dilapidated remains of a few 
 dismantled castles (once the stronghold of a power- 
 ful sept of the M'Namaras) told of the ravages 
 which fire and sword, or the no less steady advance 
 of time nad wrought upon their solid masonry. 
 
 After gazing for some minutes on the splendid 
 prospect, we turned towards the ruins on the 
 island. We had not gone more than a few hun- 
 dred yards, when we were encountered by a tall, 
 manly-looking peasant, followed by a terrier. He 
 was stoutly built, about forty years of age, and 
 had a fine open Irish countenance, bronzed by 
 many a summer's sun. The fashionable artiste who 
 designs the elegant costume of the gilded butterfly 
 of the castle, would have smiled superciliously at 
 the patched shorts and flannel waistcoat which 
 were the two most distinguishable articles of dress 
 he wore; but we regarded them with quite a differ- 
 ent feeling; we felt how many an honest heart and 
 true beats under such a garment, aye, pcarhaps 
 oftener than under the rich cloth and jewelry of the 
 titled aristocrat. 
 
 His fir.st salute of ' God save ye, gintlemin ; com- 
 in' to see the island r' placed us at once upon an in- 
 timate footing. He infomied us that he had been 
 many years employed by the owner of the island to 
 ' take care of cattle ;' and that his name was Mick 
 Ilalloran. He immediately proffered his services as 
 Cicerone, which we very gladly accepted. 
 
 The Hound Tower is among the finest in Ireland. 
 It is 72 feet high, with an internal diameter of 8 feet. 
 A light clothing of ivy reaches half way down from 
 the top. The jjointed roof, which is usual on all 
 these towers, has fallen ; but with this exception it 
 is in an excellent state of preservation. Within a 
 few yards of its base, there is a large lime-stone 
 
 * Holy Island, or Iniscenltrn, is situate in Loii^ti Dorp, 
 just where the SliuiiMnn liikc- ii fjcnili' swcc'p iiilcj Kilhiim.' 
 It is six miles llortlM.r till' hillti. i.iiil a mil,. rr..iii ( hr liic- 
 turesque village af'.Mmirit sluiimon. 'J lu' t-tLjiiiinv lljit i.lv 
 daily between Atlil..iie imil Killuloi; pa^s > cry near. Iji- 
 
 deL-J then- is nut a imiil-Ii i -.■ iiiii-n>li]i;: trip in the south 
 
 nrlrclund llinn iiliin^- llie noble Sliaiinon Cy the nbovc- 
 nienlioiied ruiiti-. J..t i.,>l i.iv rci.d, ]> e.Milnnnd it with ouc 
 ot'a mure uortheru pilgrintui^e in LougU i>erg. 
 
 abcut two or three feet high, with an incision about 
 a foot square on the top of it. 
 
 The door of the tower faces the East, it is some 
 twelve feet from the ground. I was anxious to get 
 into it, and after a good deal of scrambling and fall- 
 ing I succedcd. The floor inside reaches up to the 
 door. Two circles of projecting stones would seem 
 to indicate the previous existence of two other floors ; 
 however, no other vestige of them remains. 
 
 How strange is the fate of those 'pillar temples;' 
 they would seem to be possessed of some talisman 
 which completely bewilders the efforts of our antiqua- 
 ries to discover their origin. Who knows but our fa- 
 bled ancestors in erecting them (i. e. presupposing the 
 theory which Moore so fondly supports) may have 
 practised some malevolent charms, which were intend- 
 ed to shroud their origin in mystery. If so, let all 
 our antiquaries cease henceforth bothering themselves 
 about such matters. Believe me, it was not to little 
 account that the Danian and Firbolg had been initiated 
 into their mystic arts ! 
 
 Within fuur or five yards of the round tower, stands 
 the church of St, Camin. He was of the princely 
 family of Hy-Kinselagh, and retired to the island in 
 the early part of the 7th century. Thither he was 
 followed by a great many religious who were anxious 
 to put themselves under his spiritual direction. These 
 he formed into a community which assumed the habit 
 and rule of the regular canons of St. Augustin. 
 
 The monastery was plundered by a body of Danes 
 from Limerick in 834, and again in 946 by Ivar a 
 chieftain of another of these Northman hordes. 
 In 1027 it was re-ereeted probably in the form 
 in which it exists at present. Pinaliy it shared the 
 fate of the thousands of other monasteries which the 
 reformation suppressed. 
 
 Directly opposite the small Gothic door, through 
 which we entered St. Camin's Church, is the principal 
 entrance. It is a fine Saxon arch, supported by five 
 circular pilasters on either side. A rich festooning of 
 ivy swept across the span of the arch and interlaced 
 its huge trunk with the adjoining pilasters. The 
 Church itself is a rectangle ; in its southern wall there 
 
 is a granite slab with the following inscription: "J. 
 
 A. Grady repaired those churches and monuments, to 
 the grace and glory of God.' It is not dated. How- 
 ever, I think it must have been inserted in the last 
 century, especially as it is in English the inscription 
 is written. 
 
 Up to a dozen years ago, there used to be a pilgrim- 
 age here, twice a year. Hundreds Hocked from the 
 neighboring counties of Tipperary, Clare and Galway 
 to beg the intercession of St Camin. Thither came 
 the lame, the blind, the child of affliction and sorrow 
 to offer up the outpourings of a suffering heart to the 
 Almighty, and to beg the prayers of Ilis servant. 
 Here, on this very spot, had the kneeling peasant of- 
 ten offered up the rich gift of an humble heart and 
 confiding faith. 
 
 It matters little, after all, how much the spirit of 
 ' progress' and 'indiff'erenti-m' of the present day may 
 smile at this; but there is, undoubtedly, something 
 pure and exalted in this outpouring of the heart's 
 warmest affections to God, this unlocking of the soul 
 to some of the finest feelings of our nature, which is 
 so seldom apprecialed because it does not often find 
 its way beyond the humble homestead of the poor and 
 lowly. 
 
 However, owing to some abuses, the 'rounds' have 
 been suppressed, chiefly through the instrumentality ■ 
 of the Catholic clergy. On the appointed days, tents 
 used to be set up, and the itinerary squad of 'wheel 
 of fortune men,' 'trick of the loop,' &c., who frequent 
 all Irish fairs and 'merry-makings,' gathered in great 
 numbers to the 'island.' Potheen flowed in abun- 
 dance, and the night seldom dosed without the flour- 
 ishing of blackthorns and the cracking of many an 
 unofli'ending pate. 
 
 In the burial ground adjoining St. Camin's Church, 
 Mick pointed out to us an old altar stone, from which 
 the plain cross that hud been chiseled on it, was al- 
 most completely cff'aced. He told us that some thirty 
 
140 
 
 IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 yearu ago tho I'rotcgtiinta of Killaloe thoiiglit to toko 
 it ttwiw to put it in thuir ' ihurcli,' hut tho d — 1 a foot 
 fnnhcr tlmu tho shoro it would go with 'cm, so thuy 
 wor oblt'i'gcd to bring it back ngnln. And what's 
 more, 9I1, tho bell ihiit used to riug of its own accord 
 ia lh» slet'jile, was never any good since they brought 
 it to Killaloe.' 
 
 St. Mary's Cliun-h, which stands on tho southern 
 lido of tlic island, is similar in every respect to St. 
 Cuiuiu's. In its southern wall there is another slab, 
 with an inscription. Over the inscription is a crost 
 cousisting of a hand and dagger and three lions ram- 
 pant. A good deal of it is so completely cD'aced, that 
 I could not make out the figures on it. The monu- 
 ment was erected in I04U, over 'the noble knight. Sir 
 Turlough 'O'Urien Ara, who died lij'26, and Eliza- 
 beth, his wile, daughter to Walter, Earl of Ormond, 
 who died in loas. Pray for their souls. Memento 
 mortis.' 
 
 ■What a sad period for Ireland, the first quarter of 
 the 17th century. Tho Irish Catholics had been led 
 to expect much from the son of the unfortunate Mary 
 Stuurt, but his earliest acts at once dashed away their 
 long cherished hopes. His reign should bo remem- 
 bered with execration in Ireland. That was the pe- 
 riod at which 500,01)0 acres of land were conliscated 
 in Ulster, an immense tract in Connaught, and 400,000 
 acres in the other provinces ; that was the period at 
 which Cbichestcr had trampled on the liberties of the 
 Irish Parliament by unconstitutionally creating forty 
 new boroughs ; and when the Catholic nobles of the 
 Pale had petitioned and sent an embassy to James, 
 two of their number, Talbut and Lutteral, were im- 
 prisoned, and the petition rejected with contempt ; at 
 which St. John and Falkland proved no unworthy 
 successors to the perscuting Chichester. 
 
 Doubtless it was owing to the sanguinary edicts of 
 some of these deputies, that O'Brien Ara was forced 
 to seek a quiet grave beneath the hallowed verdure of 
 Holy Island. 
 
 1 continued rambling among the ruins until the 
 moon was far up in the mid-heaven. It was a glorious 
 night — a glorious prospect — not a single cloud to veil 
 the pale face of the ' queen of night,' who sailed ma- 
 jestically along in the bine vault above. Around, the 
 unrolled sheet of water was buniished with a flood of 
 silver light, save where the dim outline of fie wooded 
 shore cast its darkening shadow. Tlio ruins them- 
 selves, ' half in light, half in shade,' seemed, like some 
 fanciful creation of the mind, adapted only for the 
 phantom forms of tho other world. 
 
 The intrusive footsteps of man excited a hollow- 
 echo in the deserted aisles, and seemed to awaken the 
 spirit of saint and sage, who had lain buried there for 
 cenlaries. 
 
 On such occa,sions how completely docs the soul 
 identify itself with the past ; with what vividness do 
 tlie dim facts of history come up before the mind. In 
 this island, in these very churches, had the learning of 
 Corcoran, in the 11th century, charmed the youth not 
 only of Erin but of Europe. There, in yon lonely 
 tower, had the anchorite Cosgrath offered up an un- 
 broken orison for a life imc. Perhaps, too, on many a 
 night like this, ere yet the Northman or Saxon put his 
 foot upon our soil, might the hooden monk have wan- 
 dered forth into the cold moonlight, and how must he 
 have stood spell-bound as the tleep tones of the convent 
 choir stole softly on his car, or the angelus from the 
 convent tower rang its silvery tones over the lonely 
 water of Lough Derg. 
 
 What a contrast would strike him were ho again to 
 revisit these scenes. Yonder, where the tangled brush- 
 wood creeps over that grassy hillock, there stood a 
 church dedicated to St. Prtrick. There ! where tho 
 rank grass waves o'er the ashes of the dead, was his 
 own cell, in which he had rested his weary frame, af- 
 ter many a midnight vigil. Here ! where this unchis- 
 eled headstone lies, stood the shrine on which he had 
 registered his first vows to Heaven. What a scene of 
 desolation for the distant wanderer. And yet all is not 
 a subject of sorrow to him. How does he exult, when 
 be looks round bis green Erin, and sees that tho failh 
 
 I of Patrick is still as fresh and vigorous as in thcsaint- 
 
 ' eil days of Malachi and Columkil ; that sacred leam- 
 
 I ing is still us much cultivated as when her schools 
 
 ' were thronged with the learned of Europe, that tho 
 
 same spirit animated Kilinn, Gall and Fiachra is still 
 
 prolitie in Irish missionaries, who may be found in 
 
 I every quarter of the globe, from the wild jirairies that 
 
 border the ilissouri to the sacred banks of the Ganges. 
 
 Dalcabbian. 
 
 LITERATURE. 
 
 [From Tnlcs of the Olika Time.) 
 CASTLE ROCHE. 
 
 A L 1: G 1; N I) or L O V T n . 
 
 [Continued.] 
 
 A year flew hy, without producing any visible 
 change iit the Lady Christina. In the meantime the 
 pcasanti-y around conceived tlie idea of her being in 
 connection with the Evil One. Considering tlie 
 love of the marvellous by which the lower Irish 
 have ever been characterized, this belief was not at 
 all wonderful. Dark and gloomy in her disposi- 
 tion, and enveloped in an impenetrable veil of mys- 
 teiT, Christina appeared the very one most likely to 
 hold communion with the ' lord of the infernal 
 regions.' As one false conclusion gives rise to an- 
 other, so the supposed supernatural power of the 
 Lady of the Castle, revived in the minds of the peo- 
 ple the singular disappearance of O'Brien, and it 
 was now acknowledged on all hands that the poor 
 architect had been spirited away by her accursed 
 artifices. 
 
 Erica was not slow in discovering the stories cir- 
 culating thus amonst the peasantry; indeed, it re- 
 quired no great penetration to do so, for she could 
 not but see that the castle was shunned as if con- 
 tagion had lurked within its walls, and that she 
 herself had become an object of distrust to all 
 around. The faithful confidante took the earliest 
 opportunity of communicating the fact to her lady, 
 who, on her part, received the information with a 
 sneer of derision and contempt. 
 
 ' It was ever thus, Erica ! These besotted Irish 
 have been ever ready to regard with suspicion, 
 those whose motives of action were above their 
 comprehension. They have over viewed our people 
 as a nation of conjurors, and, though ignorant of 
 my connexion with that hated race, they have at- 
 tributed to me the crime of witchcraft, as though 
 they could trace my descent from some of those 
 fierce matrons of whose enchantments they have 
 preserved so many wild legends ! But it matters 
 not — I despise them all too much, to show the least 
 resentment for the injury they have done mo!' 
 
 ■With these words she dismissed Erica from her 
 presence, in order to commune in silence with her 
 own thoughts. 
 
 An hour had scarcely elapsed, when Erica re- 
 turned to inform her mistress that the squire of the 
 young Lord Eitzwalter waited below to know 
 whether his master might be permitted to visit the 
 Lady Christina. 
 
 ' This Lord Fitzwalter is a most persevering 
 suitor!' exclaimed Christina. 'I wonder whether 
 Penelope of old was half so plagued as I am, by a 
 phalan.\ of lords and lordlingf! Go tell the mes- 
 senger — but stay. Erica ! where is he ?' 
 
 ' He has walked out upon the drawbridge, I per- 
 ceive,' answered the damsel; 'so, your ladyship 
 may see him yonder; he is really the finest sample 
 of manhood I have seen since I landed on the coa.st 
 of Ilibeniia!' 
 
 On hearing this, Christina approached the win- 
 dow, and stood gazing for a moment on the youth- 
 ful squire, who was busily engaged in examining 
 the castle, and its fortifications. A\1ien the lady 
 turned again to Erica, it was to express a wish that 
 the messenger might lie introduced to her pres- 
 ence. 
 
 'Ila, ha! Lord Fitzwalter hath found favor in 
 
 I my lady's sight !' thought Erica, as she proceeded 
 ■ to deliver her message. 
 
 The young squire followed the damsel to tlio 
 1 apartment where sat the lady of the castle, and, as 
 he did so, he could not help feeling some curiosity 
 to obtain a siglit of one who repelled with so much 
 j coldness the adTsuces of even the highest chief- 
 tains. 
 
 At length his conductress opened a door, which 
 discovered to bis ricw the Lady Christina, and tho 
 sight was a fatal one to the young asi)irant for tho 
 honors of chiyalry. He had never even imagined 
 anything half so beautiful and he wos for a moment 
 bewildered with astoni.shment. 
 
 The lady affected not to have perceived the ciTcct 
 which her charms had produced, but, seating her- 
 self with an air of almost regal dignity, bade the 
 young servitor bear to his master the Lady Chris- 
 tina's kindest greeting, with her desire that Lord 
 Fitzwalter should honor her poor dwelling with a 
 visit, at his earliest convenience. 
 
 The squire, having made his obeisance, was about 
 to retire, when Christina again addressed him — 
 
 'As I take it for granted that thou art my Lord 
 Fitzwalter's usual attendant, I would Icam by what 
 name thou art distinguished !' 
 
 'I am called JIark Koche, most noble lady !' re- 
 plied the youth. 
 
 ' It is well, my good youth ! thou may'st now 
 depart.' 
 
 Erica conduetod the young man to the outer 
 gate, and then returned, to try if she could dis- 
 cover what was passing in the mind of her mistress. 
 Christina, however, preserved a total silence on the 
 subject of Lord Fitzwalter and his proposed visit, 
 so that her attendant was doomed to remain in 
 utter ignorance as to the motives wliich had in- 
 duced her lady to deviate from her usual habits of 
 seclusion. 
 
 The door had scarcely closed on Erica and tho 
 young Iloehe, when Christina sank into a seat, and, 
 bursting into tears, exclaimed aloud — 
 
 'The hour is come — yes ! the hour is come, when 
 Christina must endeavor to forget what she was, 
 and what she might have been ! To thee, then, 
 most beloved, be this last agonizing moment dedi- 
 cated ! The memory of thy love was for a short 
 space clouded and dishonored — but (thanks to the 
 vigor of mind for w hich thou hast so often extolled 
 thy Christina,) the low-born hind was puni.shed as 
 he deserved, for daring to aspire to possess that 
 heart which thou, adored one, valued more highly 
 than all thy regal power ! Farewell, farewell! — 
 may'st thou never learn, my royal Christian, that 
 thy lost Christina sank so very low !' 
 
 Shaking back her redundant tresses (now satu- 
 rated with her tears) this wondrous woman, by a 
 desperate effort of self-command, resumed her usual 
 demeanor, but ever and anon, as she employed her- 
 self on some work of fancy, there would arise 
 thoughts of that distant object, so fondly beloved; 
 a moment, and a dark frown (as at her own imbe- 
 cility,) would contract her lofty brow, and forth- 
 with, the mind ihus controlled, would glide ihto 
 some other tjain of thought. 
 
 It may be as well, leaving Christina to her own 
 reflections, to throw some light ujion those myste- 
 rious expressions above mentioned. For tliis pur- 
 pose we must seek a far distant land, being none 
 other than that which had seen her days of unsullied 
 innocence, the scene also of her guilty, and ill-ac- 
 quired power. 
 
 That land was Denmark, the home of those fierce 
 ' Sea-kings ' whose devastating sway was so long 
 acknowledged in the British Island, and who held 
 unbroken dominion over the waters of the German 
 Ocean and its tributary seas. 
 
 Christina was an orphan of noble birth — she had 
 been brought up at the Danish Court, and her ear- 
 liest and purest atfcetions were bestowed on the 
 youthful Ouistian, who was then heir apparent to the 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 141 
 
 throne, and who, onhispnrt, had ever distiiigiiished 
 the fair Cliristiua above all the ladies who graced 
 that brilliant circle. 
 
 Having never kno^^^l the salutary restraint of 
 parental discipline, the young Christina had grown 
 np a gorgeous but untrained flower ! The chief 
 feature of her mind was a love of power. She had 
 no fixed notions of cither religion or virtue, and 
 consequently, the transition was very easy, from the 
 courted and admired of the Crown Prince, to his 
 fallen and degraded mistress. 
 
 She madeno difficulty of accepting themagnificent 
 temis oflerod — her ambitious mind, dazzled by the 
 prospect of being one day the favorite of a monarch, 
 set but little value on that jewel above all price — a 
 pure and unsullied virtue. 
 
 In progress of time, Christian ascended the throne, 
 and Christina's delight was unbounded. So great 
 was her love for the youthful monarch, that what- 
 ever concerned his honor or glory was dearer far 
 than her own interest, and her inordinate pride was 
 fully gratified when she beheld him in the full exer- 
 cise of kingly power. 
 
 Time rolled on, and the love of the monarch for 
 his beautiful favorite appeared rather to increase 
 than decline — he seemed, in fact, to experience no 
 real happiness but in her presence. There was no 
 favor required by a courtier that a word from Chris- 
 tina would not procure, and it may, therefore, be 
 supposed that her intercession was often sought. 
 
 But this could not last — the people became urgent 
 in their entreaties that their sovereign should select 
 a queen from among the royal houses of Europe. 
 
 Tlus was unwelcome intelligence to the enamour- 
 ed Christian, but to Christina it was severe as the 
 stroke of death. 
 
 Lost as she was, she had never dared to hope that 
 she might become the wife of the monarch. Know- 
 ing herself unworthy of sharing a tlirone, she sub- 
 mitted, in silence, to her fate, and though the con- 
 viction would sometimes force itself upon her mind, 
 that, by her early fall from virtue, she had lost the 
 brilliant opportunity presented by the ardent pas- 
 sion of her royal lover, yet the reflection gave her 
 but momentary pain. So long as she continued to 
 reign over the hoart of Christian, she cared but lit- 
 tle for any other dominion. 
 
 The idea of his marrying another, never for one 
 moment occurred to her mind. She had forgotten 
 (oh, the blindness of love!) that kings are in a great 
 measure controlled by the wishes of their subjects, 
 and that the welfiire of the state required that the 
 sovereign should form a matrimonial alliance. 
 
 If Christina had accustomed herself to the proba- 
 bility of such an event,- the blow might have fallen 
 less heavily — reflection might have strengtliened her 
 mind — but now it fell upon her senses with stun- 
 ning eifect. The information was first given her by 
 an envious old lady of the Court, who, of course, 
 gave it with even exaggerated details, in order to 
 wound the auditor the more deeply. Knowing the 
 malignity of the narrator, Christina still hoped that 
 the story was a fabrication of her own brain, and 
 that the next visit of the king would dispel the hor- 
 rid chimera. She awaited his arrival, therefore, 
 with more than usual impatience, determined to 
 jjut the matter at once beyond a doubt, by sound- 
 ing him on the subject. 
 
 It was evening when the young monarch entered 
 the magnificent apartments appropriated to Christi- 
 na ; the shades of twilight were already falling, but 
 what could conceal fi'om the eye of love that a deep- 
 er gloom darkened the brow of her sovereign ! He 
 sighed, too, as he returned her salutation, and that 
 sigli spoke volumes to the heart of Christina. 
 
 After a sUence of some minutes. Christian en- 
 deavored to condcal his dejection. 
 
 ''Wherefore is my love so silent ? A^Tiy! thou 
 seem'st in a melancholy mood this evening, my 
 Christina! Am I right ? — orhas aught occun-ed to 
 distress thee? 
 
 'Nay, ray royal lord, it' is tliou that art dejected. 
 Nced'st thou then wonder that I am unable to ap- 
 pear gay — arc not thy sorrows mine ? Let me then 
 presume to ask, has my sovereign had caxisc of sad- 
 ness ?' 
 
 'Thou dost but jest, Christina. Surely there is 
 no change in me!' 
 
 'And can'stthou, then, imagine that thou could' st 
 deceive Christina, even for a moment ? No, my 
 lord, the slightest shade of care or sorrow on that 
 beloved brow must give corresponding pain to this 
 poor trembling heart. Tell me then what has dis- 
 turbed thee, that I may at least, endeavor to con- 
 sole thee.' 
 
 'But what if the news concerned thyself!' 
 
 'It matters not — say on !' 
 
 'Thou knowest not — thou can'st not know what 
 thou desirest to hear !' 
 
 'Nay, my liege! I ean hear anything — I am pre- 
 pared.' 
 
 'Art thou prepared to lose what, I know, thou 
 vainest most ?' 
 
 ''What means my lord?" 
 
 ' Christina !' said the monarch, while his voice 
 trembled with emotion; 'Christina ! thou talkest of 
 being prepared ! Art thou prepared to hear that 
 my people are unanimous in their entreaty (which 
 with them is almost command) that I should marry! 
 They fear my dying without issue, and my minis- 
 ters have fixed on the daughter of a neighboring 
 prince, who on his part has signified, through his 
 ambassador, than an alliance with the Danish mon- 
 arch will be most agreeable to him ? Say, Christi- 
 na, have I cause for anxiety ?' 
 
 On hearing such a terrible confirmation of her worst 
 fears, Christina's heart sank within her — the color for- 
 sook her cheek, and she was for a moment utterly in- 
 capable of speech. At length she strove to articulate 
 the inquiry which her heart dictated — 
 
 ' 'Will my liege accept the proposed alliance V 
 
 There was something in the tremulous tones ot 
 Christina which went directly to the heart of her audi- 
 tor, and roused his most ardent sympathy in her fa- 
 vor : 
 
 'And dost thou ask such a question? thou, Christi- 
 na ! Canst thou for a moment suppose that I would 
 bestow on thee a rival "! No ! Christina ! thou Iiast 
 ever been sole mistress of my affections, and so shalt 
 thou ever remain V 
 
 'A thousand thousand thanks, most beloved of men! 
 But art thou thyself a free agent in tliis case V 
 
 'Most undoubtedly I am. "Who would dare at- 
 tempt to coerce the inclinations of a sovereign of Den- 
 mark? Console thyself, then, beloved one, for I am 
 thine, ever thine !' 
 
 ■Who could have doubted such an assurance ? Cer- 
 ainly not Christina, for h er confidence in Christian 
 was unl)0unded. She had n ever known him to have 
 deceived her, why then, should she suspect his verac- 
 ity on an occasion of such vital moment ! There was, 
 thowever, another inquiry to be made, and Christina 
 held her breath while slio waited to have it answered : 
 
 'But, my lord, may I venture to ask what was 
 your Majesty's reply to the proposal of your minis- 
 ters '!' 
 
 Christina, need'st thou ask ? But I see thou hast 
 learned to dotdit thy Christian — I must then tell thee, 
 candidly, what I said. I told them there was one be- 
 ing in existence, to whom I was already united by 
 every bond both of honor and attection. It was then 
 represented to me that I could not marry (forgive me, 
 ChristinalJ the person alluded to ; hut to that olijoc- 
 tion, I answered, that I considered myself as firmly al- 
 lied to that individual as if the marriage ceremony 
 had been really performed, and that no temptation 
 could induce me to think of giving my hand and a 
 crown to one while my heart belonged irrevocably to 
 another. The council could go no further, so the sub- 
 ject was allowed to drop. Is Christina satisfied with 
 my conduct V 
 
 ' Satisfied ! oh ! forgive me, most generous of men I 
 forgive mo for having doubted thee, even for a mo- 
 
 ment ! Thou hast been ever kind and affectionate to 
 me ! — Oh ! that a cloud should arise to darken so fair 
 a scene !' 
 
 It was late when the monarch retired from Chris- 
 tina's apartment, and as he traversed the now silent 
 corridors of the palace, he could not help congratulat- 
 ing himself that for the sake of this beloved object he 
 had made so vast a sacrifice in declining the alliance of 
 a great prince, and above all resisting the entreaties of 
 his subjects. 
 
 How far his exulting was well founded, wo shall 
 soon, perchance, see. 
 
 Nothing could equal Christina's delight, on finding 
 that the constancy of her beloved was proof against 
 every allurement that could be offered. "With a heart 
 full of grateful affection, she tlirew hf rself on a couch, 
 and her dreams were all bright and Elysian, harbin- 
 gers she deemed of unfading joy. 
 
 ****** 
 
 As early as etiquette would permit on the following 
 day, the king received a vtsit from one of his minis- 
 ters, the ostensible purpose of which was, to procure 
 the royal signature to a certain warrant of outlawry, 
 though there was no need that this should have been 
 laid before his Majesty in a private audience. 
 
 The nobleman protracted his visit for some time af- 
 ter his business was concluded, and the conversation 
 turned (as it were accidentally) on the affair which had 
 occupied the council on the preceding day. 
 
 ' "We were none of us surprised,' said the minister, 
 'that your Majesty rejected the proposed alliance, 
 however advantageous it might appear. 
 
 'How meanest thou ?' inquired the monarch. 
 
 ' Why, merely this, my liege ! that your Majesty's 
 attachment to the Lady Chriftina was too well known, 
 to permit us to hope for a favorable answer to the pro- 
 posal. The world at large must admire such an un- 
 exampled proof of fidelity ! Neither can we marvel 
 at your devotion to one object, for, in truth, as far as 
 beauty is concerned, that of the Lady Christina is most 
 rare, being indeed, unrivalled !' 
 
 ' And her fidelity ! — Has she not sacrificed all for 
 me ? Has she ever listened to the vows of another ? 
 No ! the wonderous lovelinesss of my Christina is ren- 
 dered doubly charming in my eyes, by her unchanging 
 truth and constancy !' 
 
 ' That may well be' responded the wily courtier; 
 ' hut allow me to say (with all due deference) that, 
 considering the personal charms of the lady in ques. 
 tion, she has never been sought after by the young no- 
 bles of the court ! — whether it was that they ventured 
 not to enter the lists with your Majesty, or that some 
 other cs.use existed, I really cannot say, but I have 
 heard the fact more than once descanted upon !' 
 
 ' How 1 — what 1. — What would'st thou insinuate V 
 inquired Christian, in an agitated voice. 
 
 ' I insinuate ! — my liege ! Thou would'st not sure 
 suspect me of so foul a design as that of endeavoring 
 to insinuate aught unfavorable to the lady whom thou 
 honorest with thy confidence V 
 
 ' I know not what to think !' replied the king, now 
 strongly excited — ' but this I know and cannot but 
 see, that thou art laboring under some weighty secret 
 which concerns my Christina ! — Speak ! relieve my 
 suspense !' 
 
 ' What should I know, my royal master ! of tlie 
 Lady Christina or her affairs ? I have not the honor 
 of being acquainted witli her 1 How, then, can I pos- 
 sess any, the slightest information regarding her V 
 
 ' This evasion will not serve thy purpose ! — My 
 Lord Chamberlain I I command thee on thy duty as 
 a suliject, to explain thyself ! — What mean these ob- 
 scure inuendos V 
 
 [To be continued.] 
 
 At a party in London, a lady — who though in the 
 autumn of life had not lost all dreams of its spring 
 — said to Douglas Jcrrold, ' I cannot imagine what 
 makes my hair turn grey ; I sometimes fancy it 
 must be the essence of rosemary, with which my 
 maid is in the habit of brushing it. AMiat do you 
 think ?' — ' I should rather be afraid madam,* replied 
 the distinguished di-araatist, drUy, ' that it is the 
 esscucc of Time !' 
 
U2 
 
 llllSll MISCELLANY. 
 
 Ay An^TNTUuB IN A Kailwav CAHniAOE.- 
 Afttr I had taken my scat one morning at I'ad- 
 dlington in an empty airringe. I was joined, just us 
 the train was moving off by n stmnge-looking 
 youn" man, with remarkably long flowing Imir. 
 JIc wus. of course, a little hurried, but he seemed 
 besides to be so disturbed and wild that I was quite 
 alarmed for fear of his not bebig right in his mind, 
 nor did his subsequent conduct at all reassure me. 
 Our train was an express, and he inciuired eagerly, 
 at once, which was the first station whereat we 
 were advertised to stop. I consulted my -Krad- 
 shaw,' and furnished him with the reiiuired infor- 
 mation. It was Heading. The young man looked 
 at his watch. 
 
 . Madame,' said he, ' I have but half an hour be- 
 tween me and, it maybe, ruin. Excuse, there- 
 fore, my abruptness. You have, I perceive, a pair 
 of scissors in your work-bag. Oblige roc, if you 
 please, by cutting off aU my hair.' 
 
 • Sir,' said I, ' is it possihlc V 
 
 • Madam,' lie urged, and a look of severe determi- 
 nation crossed his features, ' I am a desperate man. 
 Bcw*ro how you refuse me what I ask. Cut my hair 
 off— short, dose to the roots— immediately ; and here 
 is a newspaper to hold the ambrosial curls." 
 
 1 thought he was mad, of course ; and l)clievingthat 
 it would be dangerous to thwart him, I cut olT all his 
 hair to the last lock. 
 
 • Now Madam,' said he, unlocking a small portman- 
 teau, ' you will further oblige me by looking out of the 
 window, as I am about to change my clothes.' 
 
 Of course I looked out of the window for a very 
 considerable lime, and when he observed, ' Madam, I 
 need no longer put you to any inconvenience,' I did 
 not recognize the young man in the least. Instead of 
 his former rather gay costume, he was attired in black, 
 and wore a grey wig and silver spectacles ; he looked 
 like a respectable divine of the Church of England, of 
 about 64 years of age ; to complete that character, he 
 held a volume of sermons in his hand, which— they 
 appeared so to absorb him— might have been his own. 
 
 • 1 do not wish to threaten you, young lady,' he 
 resumed, ' and I think, besides, that I can trust 
 your kind face. ^Vill you promise me not to reveal 
 this metamorphosis until your journey's end ?' 
 
 < I will," said I, ' most certainly.' 
 
 At Heading the guard and a person in plain clothes 
 looked into our carriage. 
 
 ' You have the ticket my love,' s.iid the young 
 man blandly, and looking at me as though he were 
 my father. 
 
 • Never mind, sir ; we don't want them,' said the 
 o6fieial, as he withdrew his companion. 
 
 'I shall now leave you, Madam,' observed my 
 fellow-traveller, as soon as the coast was clear; 
 • by your kind and courageous conduct you have 
 saved my life, and perhaps even your own.' 
 
 In another minute he was gone and the train was 
 in motion. Xot till the next morning did I learn 
 from the Times newspaper that the gentleman on 
 whom I had operated as haircutter had committed 
 a forgery to an enormous amount in London a few 
 hours before I met him, and that he had been 
 tracked into an express train from I'addington. 
 but that — although the telegraph had been in mo- 
 tion and described him accurately — at Heading, 
 when the train was searched, he was nowhere to be 
 found. — [Household Words. 
 
 Sleep. — It has been snid that Napoleon slept but 
 little, an assertion for which there is no foundation. 
 On the contrary, he slept much, and even stood in 
 great need of sleep, as is the case of all nervous per- 
 sons, whose minds are very active. I have often 
 known him spend ten and twelve hours in bed. But 
 if wakefulness was necessary, he could support it, and 
 indemnify himself at a later period, or even take re- 
 pose in advance, in order to support the fatigues which 
 he anticipated; finally, he had the gift of sleeping at 
 will. 
 
 A IIinnNO Match.— Among other pastimes in 
 which the sons of old Erin iiululged on St Patrick's 
 Day was that of an Irish goal-ball and hurling 
 match, on the other side of the North Uiver, near 
 the Elysian I'ields, between the Old Ireland and 
 Young Ireland party, from the town of Kemnare, 
 in the county Kerry. The nuitch was played on 
 the cricket and base-ball ground, in Iloboken, by 
 thirteen married and thirteen unmarried men. 
 There were at least two thousand persons present, 
 Irish and Anu'ricans. The latter drawn thither on 
 account of the novelty of the thing, and expressed 
 themselves highly gratified, so much so that many 
 of them said it threw the cricket and base ball 
 match both into the shade. On each end of the 
 ground bow or arch, and the party sending the ball 
 ! through this arch first off were to be the victors. 
 Each arch was guarded by one or two of the best 
 hurlers, for the purpose of stopping the ball, while 
 the rest went at the goaling with all their might. 
 
 The contest, which was a dose one, lasted about 
 two hours and fifty minutes. "When the young 
 Ireland party were declared the winners, a vocifer- 
 ous and enthusiastic cry went up, with hats and 
 hurlics, which made the welkin ring. The old Ire- 
 landers were told to go liome and announce to their 
 ■wives that the young Ireland party gained the vic- 
 tory, and hoped to v\in their daughters. 
 
 CuAni.Es Lamu's AVarnixg. — Charles Lamb — the 
 inimitable ' Elia ' — a genius and a drunkard, tells 
 his sad experience, as a warning to young men, in 
 the following lauguagc : — 
 
 ' The waters have gone over me. But out of the 
 black depth, could I be heard, I would cry out to 
 j all those who have set a foot in the perilous flood. 
 i Could the youth to whom the flavor of his first wine 
 , is delicious as the opening senses of life, or the en- 
 j tering upon some newly discovered paradise, look 
 I into my desolation and be made to understand what 
 a dreary thing it is when a man shall find himself 
 going down a precipice with open eyes and a pas- 
 sive will — to see his destruction and have no power 
 to stop it, and yet, feel it all the way emanating 
 from himself ; to bear about the piteous spectacle 
 of his own ruin ; could he see my fevered eye, fe- 
 verish with last night's drinking, and feverishly 
 looking for to-night's repetition of the folly ; could 
 he but feel the body of the death out of which I 
 cry hourly with feeble outcry to be delivered — it 
 were enough to make him dash the sparkling bev- 
 erage to the earth in all the pride of its mantling 
 temptation.' 
 
 Vaudeville's Steed. — I remember to have read 
 of several who had subsequently either become priests 
 or entered some religious Orders, and, among them, 
 of Vaudeville, from Lorraine. He was a commander 
 of lancers, and was the last lo cross the bridge, ex- 
 posed to the incessant fire of the enemy. When he 
 saw the bridge in flames he plunged with bis horse in- 
 to the river, and right manfully battled with the float- 
 ing ice, the timber, and wrecked gun carriages, until 
 he had almost reached the opposite bank. His strength 
 failed liini ; his noble charger, like bis master, was 
 exhausted ; a large cake of ice came rushing furiously 
 against them ; Vaudeville bowed his head upon his 
 horse's neck, and, resigning himseU to death, pro- 
 nounced aloud the act of contrition. At the instant a 
 cannon ball from ibe Russians grazed the horse's 
 head. The noble animal rallied his strength, and, 
 with one wild, desperate bound, reached the shore with 
 his rider ! The life thus almost miraculously prc- 
 
 I served Vaudeville consecrated to God. He resigned 
 his decoration of the legion of honor and his rank in 
 the army, entered the seminary of Nancy, in France, 
 and became a pious priest. For many years he was 
 procurator of the seminary of Mousion, and he al- 
 ways kept the noble horse that saved him from the 
 
 ' Beresina. 
 
 MISCELLANEA. 
 
 Acciuirc honesty ; seek humility ; practice econ- 
 omy ; love fidelity. 
 
 On his death-bed, a distinguished humorist re- 
 quested that no one might be invited to his funeral. 
 ' Because,' said the dying wag, ' it is a civility I can 
 never repay.' 
 
 ' I wonder,' says a woman of spirit, ' how is it 
 that I and my husband quarrel so often, for we 
 agree uniformly in one grand point, he wishes to be 
 master and so do I.' 
 
 ' Awful' (jardner after a severe struggle, accord- 
 ing to the reports in the New Y^ork papers, has been 
 converted to the true faith in the Methodist church 
 at Port Chester. The ' lighting preachers ' will have 
 to look to their laurels, as Gardner used to be an 
 awful bruiser. 
 
 ■When .\lgcmon Sydney was told that he might 
 save his life by telling a falsehood — by denying his 
 hand-writing — he said, 'When God has brought me 
 into a dilemma in which I must assert a lie or lose 
 my life, he gives me a clear indication of my duty, 
 which is to prefer death to falsehood.' 
 
 Swift's Stella, in her last illness, being visited by 
 her physician, he said — 
 
 ' Madame, I hope we shall soon get you up the 
 hill again.' 
 
 ' Ah,' said she, 'I am afraid, before I get to the 
 top of the hill, I shall be out of breath.' 
 
 An Englishman and a Yankee were recently disput- 
 ing, when the former sneevingly remarked : 
 
 ' Fortunately, the Americans could go no further 
 than the Pacific shore' 
 
 Yankee scratched his prolific brain for an instant, 
 and thus triumphantly replied : 
 
 ' Why, good gracious ! they're already leveling the 
 Ilocky Mountains, and carting the dirt out West. I 
 had a letter last week from my cousin, who is living 
 three hundred miles west of the Pacific shore — on 
 made land ! 
 
 The Englishman gave in. 
 
 Sidney Smith says: — 'It is not true that the world 
 hates piety. The modest and unobtrusive pietv 
 which fills the heart with human charities, and 
 makes a man gentle to others and severe to him- 
 self, is an object of universal love and veneration. 
 But mankind hate the lust of power when it is 
 veiled under the garb of piety. They hate cant 
 and hjiiocrisy; they hate advertisers and quacks 
 in piety; they do not choose to be insulted; they 
 love to tear folly and impudence from the place 
 which should oiJy be a sanctuary for the righteous 
 and good.' 
 
 A Blind Girl 'Seeinu' a Plat. — During the 
 performance of the .Jewess at the American Theatre, 
 San Francisco, a sliort time ago, a little girl attracted 
 much attention by supprcs,scd but violent sobbing. It 
 was thought at first that she was a child whose refined 
 feelings were more susceptible than those of others, 
 older and of more experience in the world, and that 
 she looked on the scene as real. But that was not the 
 cause of her grief Before losing lier sight she had 
 seen the play, aud hearing that it was lo be performed 
 that night by Mrs. Hayne, she desired to be taken to 
 tlie theatre to ' see it.' Several times she whispered 
 to her mother, 'There, I remember that part; how I 
 do wish 1 could see; but it's so dark!' When the 
 Jewess was about ascending to the cauldron, the child 
 tried to look toward the stage, hut failed to penetrate 
 the curtain which hid the scene from herself alone, she 
 buried her face in her bands, and cried with bitter 
 vexation and despair. All v, ho knew of the little 
 girl's misfortune, shared in her grief and disappoint- 
 ment, but they could not see and feel the terrible shad- 
 ows that hung about her heart, dark as the plumes of 
 a raven. What a cheerless horizon is hers! But for 
 her there is light beyond the rayless ways of time, 
 where brigliter lamps, lit from the Holyof Holies, 
 will enable her to see clearly as the archangel wlio has 
 looked upon the gorgeous scenery since the birth of 
 ages. 
 
IKISII MISCELLANY. 
 
 143 
 
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 PROSPECTUS. 
 
 IKISII .Mlsf I.l.l.ANV. J'rospectuB. On Saturday the 
 1-J'li .l;i; .,i I (bruary 1«58. wuh publithed the lirst 
 nuinih.i- ni a iiiw weekly periodical, with the above title, 
 dedicated to the diilnsion ol'a more intimate knowledge of 
 the literary and political history of Ireland, and to the 
 mental, moral and imlitical elevation of the Celtic race on 
 this continent. 
 
 The 'Wf/.v/i Misr.dln7iij^' will contain IG pages of clopcly 
 printed nuUtcr, (jn line paper, of a size simifar to this proa- 
 pectus. J'rice 4 cents n copy, payable on delivery ; or «2 a 
 year to mail subscribers— invariably in advance. 
 
 In a.skmf; fur public f.n]>pnrt lur the Irish Mi.rr'lUtni/, it is 
 proper Iu siiy, that if is not our inlL-nliun Iu tir^jtahs upon 
 the ground uIk.-ihIv uccnpied bv imy ufunr c.M« inporaries. 
 We have marked out lor uur.-ehes a e<an>e entiiely ;iew and 
 original— one nut occupied by any other publication in this 
 country. We propose to cultivate a held which, although 
 naturally rich and fertile, and capable of producing the 
 choicest flowers and fruits of literature, has hitherto lain 
 comparatively barren and unproductive. Into this tield we 
 shall enter with a full confidence of its capabilities, but with 
 a modest diffidence of the skill which we shall bring to its 
 culture. 
 
 It 1ms long been a reproach to our race here, tbat while 
 the publications of the day, with but few exceptions, teem 
 with vile carricaturcs of us and of our country — while we 
 are continually held up to public gaze as everything that is 
 foolish, absurb and vicious — but little effort is made to place 
 the true character of our people before the public eye. or 
 vindicate our name and race from the calumnies with wiiich 
 English hate everywhere pursues us. 
 
 To correct, in some measure, this crying evilj it was at 
 tirst intended to gather together a number of Irishmen dis- 
 tinguished in the walks of literature, and publish monthly 
 a review, which, for sterling talent, should be second to 
 none published here or in Euorpe. The great expense conj 
 sequent upon an undertaking of this magnitude, deterred us 
 from the attempt, compelled us to relinquish our design, 
 and to substitute instead thereof, our more unpretending 
 '' Miscellany.'''' 
 
 We propose to re-produce in our weekly periodical the 
 writings of many of the great minds who have gone before 
 us, while we shall also cull from the current Irish litera- 
 ture of the day, such productions of merit cannot fail to be 
 accaptable to our reader*-' ymr country is rich in legendry 
 lore, aud the legends of the old laud, while they amuse, 
 serve to instruct and to elevate. 
 
 We shall therefore publish such instructive tales and le- 
 gends of a high moral tone, that will remind us of the hap- 
 py times when we— 
 
 " Sat by the fire of a cold Winter's night, 
 Along with our friends telling tales of delight." 
 
 We shall give faithful desriptions and illustrations of 
 Irish antiquities — of our ruind monasteries, our plundered 
 abbeys and churches ; and our pictorial ilustrations of Irish 
 scenery and antiquities will present to loving minds many 
 familiar scenes of early childhood. We Iiave secured the 
 services of talented artists, and each number of the Miscel- 
 lany will contain numeroiis pictorial illustrations executed 
 in the best style of art. 
 
 We shall keep constantly before our readers the ancient 
 glory of our country, and while we ponder with pride upon 
 the moral and intellectual superiority of Irelaud, when 
 En";land and the rest of Europe was sunk in ignorance and 
 bai-barism j we shall point to the past as an incentive to tlie 
 future. 
 
 The biographies of distinguished Irishmen will he an im- 
 portant feature in the Irish Miscellany, as we shall give bio- 
 graphical notices of Irishmen, distinguished in every de- 
 partment of literature, science and ai-t — of men distinguish- 
 ed on the sea and on land j iu the church, the senate, and 
 at the bar. 
 
 It is our intention to republish the works of Irish writers 
 now out of print, in such a manner that they may be pre- 
 served to future time as a memento of the old land, and 
 serve to incalculate, in the minds of the rising generation, 
 a filial regard for the land of their fathers. 
 
 We propose commencing with the Dublin Penny Journal., 
 a work which in its day enjoyed unbounded popularity. 
 We shall devote one half of the Miscellany to each number 
 of that national jiublication. To do this we have ordered a 
 font of type in Irish characters, so that the poems printed 
 in tliat Journal in the Irish language can be reprinted in 
 Irish cliaracters with English translation in ours. This 
 department of the Miscellany will be in the hands of an Irish 
 gentleman every wav competent to tlie task. 
 
 The remaining eight pages of the Misrcllany will be devo- 
 ted to the current news oftlie day, to original articles, tales, 
 essays, poetry, &c. In politics we shall endeavor to avoid 
 those questions whicli liave divided our countrymen, or 
 discuss them in a manner void of oflence. 
 
 The Irish MisrrUam/ will be thoruuglilv independent of all 
 political partie.-— the shivo uf none- Such .luestions as af- 
 fect our counlrvnien bore, we shall di^cuss with freedom, 
 and zealously labor for tlieir moral, intellectual aud politi- 
 cal elevation. 
 
 The editorial labors will be divided amonc several gentle- 
 men of ability, and we trust to make the Sl/.^ri^V/'ony a wel- 
 come guest at the fireside of every family. AVith these re- 
 marks we commend our .«lieet fu the support of every well 
 wisher of our race. We iVel there is room for such a pub- 
 lication and promise that nothing shall be wanting on our 
 part to make it wortliv of public support. 
 
 M. J. "WALSH & L'U.,ruiiLiB]rKRfl, 
 
 Boston. MaBS,'^ 
 
 0:7=- All Communications to the Editors of the Miscel- 
 lany must he addressed— 'Care ol M. J. Walsu & Co., 
 rublishers, Boston, Mass.' 
 
 KELLY & CUNNINGHAM, BILL rOSTEItS and Dis- 
 tributors. No. 2 Williams Court, Boston, I'roprietora 
 of all the Bill Boards in thk City. respectfuUv an- 
 nounce to tin' I>usiin<s cuinninnitv ofBu.^fon and N. York, 
 that Ihev lunrgrratlv iiicrcu.Mil their laeililies for Posting 
 and Distributing Bills, such as Theatre, Cuncert, Lecture, 
 Auction, Sleaiuboal, Circus, &c.S:c. 
 
 Owing to the great increase in their business, they have 
 been obliged to add horses and wagons to their heretofore 
 ample accommodations, to which they give their personal 
 
 ♦^•Thankful for past favors they would respectfully so- 
 licit a continuance of public patronage. 
 
 KELLY' & CUNNINGllAM, 2 Williams Court, 
 febl3 ]{osTON 
 
 Q E. SANBUliN, Wholesale and Betuil Dealer in GOLD 
 ^« and SiLVKR Watchls. .)ewelky. Sii.vkr Waee, 
 Fancy Coupp,, &c. No. 134 Federal .Street. Boston. 
 
 ft:y=-Piirticuhir attention given to Kepairing Watches, 
 Clocks, Jewelry, &c. &c. 
 
 febl3 
 
m 
 
 .l^LU 
 
 mwm 
 
 .^ 
 
 §flrctcb cvprcssln fnr .% |visl) IflisccKamr, 
 
 FROM THE " SPIRIT OF THE NATION. 
 
 POETI^Y 13 Y SLIA^CH CUILI]SrN 
 
 ■la >? I 
 
 the sa-crcd debt Wo owe our mother isle? 
 of grief and pride Within my bosom teems. 
 
 I j 
 
 1. M'licn conies tlio day, all hearts to weigh, If stauneh they be . , . . or vile, Shall we for-get the sa-crcd debt We owe our mother isle ? 
 
 2. When I behold your mountains bold-Vour no - ble lakes and streams — A mingled tide of grief and pride Within my bosom teems. 
 
 S=::£t;=t:^l:_ 
 
 :E3: 
 
 ^tj 
 
 S3:J3:irf^r 
 
 
 -o- -•- a- -a- —0-^~ 
 
 ■iN-J 
 
 =-i£jji8lrig:^i::to:iz=i^=^:i£=£-r-r-t 
 
 My na-tive heath is brown beneath, IMy na - tive wa - ters blue; But crim -son red o'er both shall spread, — E'er! am fake to 
 I think of all, your long, dark thrall, Your niar-tyrs brave and true; And dash a -part the tears that start, Wo must not «>««/< for 
 
 
 s:^£fi 
 
 
 
 lJ 
 
 
 you, dear land, Kro I am false to 
 you, dear lanil. We must not weep for 
 
 ~-0-\'W—»—-^-r-o 
 
 you. 
 you. 
 
 Ere I am false to you, dear land. Ere I am false 
 We must not weep for you, dear lantl — We must not weep 
 
 ^&mM^^ 
 
 to 
 for 
 
 :r;r^|3^=^i 
 
 SilSlil 
 
 J'OU. 
 
 you. 
 
 :z± 
 -- 1- 
 
 1 
 
 
 aii^: 
 
 3. 
 My grandsire died, his home beside ; 
 
 Tliey seized and hanged him there ; 
 His only crime, in evil time. 
 
 Your hallowed green to wear. 
 Across the main his brothers twain 
 
 Were sent to pine and rue ; 
 And still they tum'd, with hearts that buni'i 
 
 In hopeless love to you, 
 
 Dear Land — 
 
 In hopeless love to you. 
 
 Jly boyish ear still clung to hear 
 
 Of Erin's jiride of j-ore, 
 Ere Nonnan foot had dared pollute 
 
 Her independent shore : 
 Of chiefs, long dead, who rose to head 
 
 Some gallant ])atrIot few. 
 Till .all my aim on earth liecamc 
 
 To strike one blow for you, 
 
 Dear land — ■ 
 
 To strike one blow for you. 
 
 o, 
 
 Wliat path is best your rights to wrest 
 
 Lot other heads divine; 
 Ey work or word, with voice or sword, 
 
 To follow them be inine. 
 The breast that zeal and liatrcd steel, 
 
 No terrors can subdue ; 
 If death should come, that martyrdom 
 
 Were sweet, endured for you, 
 
 Dear land — 
 
 Were sweet, endured for you. 
 
'/^f^r^^A 
 
 VOLUME I— NUMBER iQ. ] BOSTON, SATURDAY, APRiL 17, U 
 
 [ PRICE FOUR CENTS. 
 
 JtAOD.VLEXE'S STEEPLE— DKOOIIEDA. 
 
146 
 
 liaSll MISCELLA.NY. 
 
 MAGDALENE'S STEEPLE. 
 
 OB, niMAINS OP TllK DOMINICAN CONVENT. 
 
 In the north part of Droghcda, ncnr Sunday Gate, 
 and iranicdinti'ly adjoimnR the site of the ancient 
 Town-wall, stand the remains of the Dominican 
 Convent, under the invocation of St. Mary Maf;<Uv- 
 lene, called also, the Abbey of the Preaching Friars. 
 It was founded A. U. 12'ii, by Lucas dc Xcttcr- 
 viUe, Arelibishop of vVrmagh — was fuppre.ised at 
 the general dissolution in 1541, and is now the 
 property of a branch of the I.cigh family. 
 
 The original building, (if we may fonu an opin- 
 ion by what remains,) appears to have been of con- 
 diderablc extent and mngniliccnce; the tower, which 
 is the only part remaining, is a lofty square struct- 
 ure, of light and elegant proportions, built upon, 
 and entirely supported by a noble pointed gothic 
 arch, the buttresses of which from their apparent 
 slightness appear scarcely suilicicnt to support the 
 Buperincumbcnt weight; this circumstance, with its 
 present isolated state, give the tower a most singu- 
 lar and commanding appearance: it contains two 
 apartments above the arch, the intervening floor 
 being arched and groined from the angles — the 
 groins supported by cherubs' heads, well ears'ed in 
 stone; the walls perforated by eight windows, two 
 on each side, with cut stone casings, mullions, and 
 transoms, neatly finished and ornamented; a spiral 
 stone staircase is connected with the outside of the 
 building, the entrance to which is at a considerable 
 distance from the ground; the masonrj- is remarka- 
 bly firm, and in fine preservation, scarcely a stone 
 being removed by the eifects of time, although 
 braving the storms of above six hundred years; 
 there is, indeed, a breach in the upper part of the 
 east side, and the mullions of one window are re- 
 moved, but this is supposed to have been effected 
 by Cromwell's cannon, in 1G19, to compel the sur- 
 render of a part of the garrison who had taken 
 refuge in it. 
 
 The church appears to have been cruciform, the 
 tower arising from the centre ; but the body of the 
 building, and every other appendage, has been long 
 destroyed, and that so ctfectually, that not even the 
 foundations can be traced: it is probable this took 
 place immecUately after the dissolution, as we find 
 that in 1570, the ancient monument of llichard 
 Strongbow, carl of Chepstow, being broken to 
 pieces by the fall of the roof of Christ Church, 
 Dublin, Sir Ilenr)- Sidney, lord deputy, directed a 
 monument of Thomas, Eail of Desmond, then in 
 this church, should be removed and placed instead 
 of it, which was accordingly done; it is not proba- 
 ble this would have occurred if the place had not 
 been previously desecrated; and in the most ancient 
 paintings of Drogheda extant, particularly one in 
 the hall of Beaulieu House, representing the siege 
 in 1611, the tower is represented in its present iso- 
 lated state, with the exception of some turrets on 
 the town- wall there are not at present any remains. 
 The area which the church and its dependencies 
 formerly occupied, has been parcelled into a num- 
 ber of small tenements, consisting of cottages with 
 gardens attached; over these the lofty tower rears 
 its venerable head, and from its magnitude, and air 
 of solemn grandeur, forms a striking contrast with 
 the hovels, which at present surround it. 'llagda- 
 dene's Steeple,' as it is now called, and the tower 
 and spire of St. Peter's, of modem architecture, in 
 the immediate vicinity, both being situated on the 
 highest part of the ground on which Drogheda is 
 built, form a very conspicuous and imposing object 
 in the approach to the town in any direction. 
 
 There are some remarkable circumstances con- 
 nected with this convent related in history, a few 
 of wliich are transcribed in the order of time in 
 ■which they occurred. 
 
 On the 10th of March, 1395, four Irish kings, 
 ■viz., — O'Xeill, O'Hanlon, O'Donnell, and Mac 
 Mahon, -with several other petty chieftains of Ulster, 
 
 made their personal Hubmission to King Kiclmrd II., 
 in this church, the manner of which is tluis related 
 by Sir James Ware, in his Anticjuities of Ireland. 
 ' Every one of them, before the words of submis- 
 i sion, laid aside his cap, belt, and skeyne, and kneel- 
 ing down before the king, put both his hands be- 
 tween the king's hands, and repeated the words of 
 feality and submission in the Latin language. 
 These kings, after this ceremony, were committed 
 to the care of Henry Carlile, an Englishman, who 
 understanding the Irish language, was commanded 
 to instruct them in the English customs, particu- 
 larly in that of receiving the order of knighthood, 
 who so wrought on them that he prevailed on them 
 to accept it, although they alleged that they had 
 received it from their fathers at the ago of seven 
 ye.irs. These kings being more fully instructed by 
 the Earl of Ormonde, by the king's command, were 
 habited according to their dignity, and having per- 
 i'oi-med their vigils, and heard a mass, were solemn- 
 ly made knights by the king's own hand, in the 
 Cathedral Church of Dublin.' 
 
 The MS. annals of Ireland, in St. Sepulchre's 
 Library, Dublin, relate that in 1412, great dissen- 
 sions subsisted between the two sides of Drogheda, 
 divided by the lUver Boyne, which were attended 
 with bloodshed, mutilation, and loss of life on both 
 sides. Eathcr Philip Bennet, master of divinity, 
 and a friar of St. Mary Magdalene's Convent, in- 
 vited the people of both parties to hear his sermon 
 in the Collegiate Church of St. Peter, on the festi- 
 val of ' Corpus Christi;' that he assumed for his 
 theme these words of exxxiii. Psalm, 'Behold how 
 good and pleasant it is for brethren to dwell to- 
 gether in unity;' that in the sermon ha^•ing thrice 
 asked the eongi-cgation with energy, 'will ye be 
 united in body of Christ?' Aldennan A^'illiam Sym- 
 cock answered, in the name of all, ' we will;' that 
 when the semion was ended, they were profusely 
 entertained in the refrectoiy of this convent; and, 
 having there and then consulted with Eather Ben- 
 nett upon their disputes, by his advice a joint pe- 
 tition was made to King Henry VI., signed by 
 Nicholas Flemmyng, Archbishop of Armagh, which 
 they sent to London by one llobert Ball, who re- 
 turned to Drogheda on the 15th of December in the 
 same year, with a charter from the king, uniting 
 the two sides into one to-*ra of Drogheda, and under 
 one mayor, and forming it into a special county; 
 that the following day the archbishop gave his bles- 
 sing to the people of the county and town thus 
 coalesced: and that the first mayor of the town so 
 incorporated was the said William Symcock. It 
 appears from a charter given in the fifth year of 
 Edward IV. (i;iC5) for foujiding an university in 
 Drogheda, there was a corporation established here 
 prior to the one just mentioned, and, it is probable 
 that the inh.ibitants of each side of the town, claim- 
 ing the right of electing the m.-iyor and other offi- 
 cers, the confusion and bloodshed referred to above 
 occuiTcd at contested elections. 
 
 Some memorial of this feud .ind reconciliation is 
 prcsei-vcd here, by an annual burlesque or mum- 
 mery, still exhibited on Slu-ove Tuesday, by the 
 lower order of the inhabitants. -The Mayor of 
 Flea-lane,' (an obscure lane in the suburbs behind 
 Millmount) crossing the bridge, enters the northern 
 part of the town, mounted on an ass, in mock pro- 
 cession, attended by his sheriffs, bailiffs, and other 
 officers, all fantastically dressed with straw, and 
 each bearing the insignia of his dignity, together 
 vrith several ragmuffins disguised in petticoats and 
 masks, and armed with blown bladders tied on 
 poles, who clear the way, and enforce the passen- 
 gers and lookers-on to treat 'his worship' with 
 proper respect; the cavalcade is preceded by a 
 •bough,' or garland, and music; in this way they 
 parade the principal streets of the to-n-a, levying 
 contributions; at the same time another party en- 
 ters the town by Laurcnce's-gate, consisting of 'the 
 
 mayor of the chord' and his followers, who arc gen- 
 erally dressed in cnst-soldicr's clothes, perambulate 
 the town in another direction until evening, or they 
 conceive they have enough collected, when they 
 meet, and after a mock encounter between tho 
 'bladder men,' to the great amusement of children 
 and idlers, they all adjourn to the 'chord field,' 
 outside Laurence-gate, and spend the evening in 
 mirth and jollity. 
 
 On the 15th of February, 1-467, Thomas Earl of 
 Dc^smond was beheaded on the North Commons 
 (Hardman's garden,) Drogheda, by command of 
 John Tiptoft, earl of Worcester, lord deputy of Ire- 
 land, for exacting coyne and livery; his head was 
 sent to Dublin and spiked on the castle, and his 
 body interred in this church, and a utatcly monu- 
 ment erected to him ornamented with his effigies in 
 stone. This statue is now in Christ's Church, 
 Dublin in place of Strongbow's being removed as 
 before mentioned in 1570. 11. A. 
 
 [Our ingenious correspondent is in error in this 
 and in his former statement relative to Strongbow's 
 tomb, as we shall show in a future number. It is 
 fair, however, to acknowledge that he has the au- 
 thority of Archdall to support him. — En.] 
 
 DROCHEDA. 
 
 To the Editor of the Dublin Penny Jounial: — 
 
 Sir, — Encouraged by the very flattering notice 
 you were pleased to t.ike of my former communica- 
 tion, respecting Drogheda, I take the liberty of 
 offering the following remarks to your considera- 
 tion. 
 
 I have long been anxious to see an attempt made 
 at illustrating the history and antiquities of my 
 native town, Drogheda, but have hitherto been dis- 
 appointed; and, while other places (particularly in 
 the sister kingdom,) even the most insignificant and 
 obscure, arc daily brought before the public, recom- 
 mended by the united talents of the artist and his- 
 toricraphcr, this town, which possesses a degree of 
 historical interest, equalled by few in this kingdom, 
 and which yields to none, in either respectability or 
 antiquity, has been hitherto passed over in total 
 silence, or but slightly touched upon by the occa- 
 sional tourist. 
 
 1 have for many years found pleasure in visiting 
 the numerous monuments of antiquity so profusely 
 scattered over the face of this country, and, after an 
 attentive examination, I can safely affiiTii, there are 
 none more worthy of notice by the antiquary or 
 historian, or more intimately blended with the an- 
 cient, ecclesiastical, and military histon,' of Ireland 
 than those of Drogheda and its immediate vicinity; 
 they are rapidly falling into decay; some through 
 the ravages of time, but by far the greater number, 
 it is much to be lamented, from carelessness and 
 neglect; nor have there been wanting instances, 
 where the proudest of our castles and monastic 
 ruins have been despoiled, that the materi.ils might 
 be employed in the construction of works for which 
 stones might be obtained at less expense from a 
 neighboring quarry. 
 
 The zeal of the first reformers (which in many 
 instances was not tempered with much discretion) 
 has also done much towards their destruction. 
 Some of the ruins in this town bear evident nuirks 
 of fire, nor do we want reformers at present who 
 are equally willing to remove what they are pleased 
 to consider nuisances, witness the late demolition 
 of the ancient p.ilace of the archbishops of Armagh, 
 at Tcrmonfeken (because, forsooth, part of it fell 
 and killed a cow !) a spot hallowed by the residence 
 of some of the wisest and holiest incn of their day, 
 and which should be particularly consecrated as 
 that in which the great Usher compiled his cele- 
 brated Clironology; an event which should have 
 caused the most trifling circumstance or place con- 
 nected with him to be held sacred. 
 
 From the causes above-mentioned, it is not unu- 
 sual to perceive in this town, the remains of abbeys 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 147 
 
 niid monasteries once dedicated to the service of 
 the Deity, nnd palaces heretofore the residences of 
 tlie most powerful men of past ages, now converted 
 into stables, warehouses, &c., and next, to meet 
 with the armorial bearings of the proudest families, 
 and the sculptured ornaments, and stone utensils of 
 ■what were once the sanctuaries of religion, now 
 appropriated to the most servile and ignoble pur- 
 poses. 
 
 'Amor PatriiE,' or love of country, is a principle 
 inherent in the breast of every man, in a greater or 
 lesser degree; a spark of this has prompted a desire 
 to endeavor to rescue from total oblivion the few 
 remaining monuments of ancient grandeur and im- 
 portance of my native town, by attempting a few 
 sketches and descriptions of some of the most re- 
 markable, which if you deem of sufficient merit to 
 occasionally occupy a column of your truly na- 
 tional journal, are at your service. Perhaps the 
 attempt may stir up the dormant faculties of others, 
 and create a spirit of emulation in other quarters, 
 which may bring to light many interesting facts 
 and documents connected with, and illustrative of, 
 our national history and antiquities. 
 
 It may perhaps be objected that these 'Sketches,' 
 &c., possess but a local importance, but by a refer- 
 ence to the History 'Our Father-land,' it will ap- 
 pear that at or near Drogheda, Milesius and his 
 followers first landed in Ireland after a hard con- 
 tested struggle, in which his son, Coalpha, was 
 either killed or diowned. Coalpha was buried near 
 the spot where he fell, and his memory is still pre- 
 served, by his having given his name to the parish 
 of Coelp. We also find that Drogheda was in the 
 year 911 fortified by, and became the stronghold of 
 Tm-gesius, the Dane, from which he frequently 
 sallied, and laid waste the surrounding country. 
 At Duleek, in the vicinty, was erected the first 
 stone church in Ireland. Here St. Patrick it is said 
 founded a monastery, since called the Abbey of St. 
 Jlary de Urse. 
 
 Here we also find tho sovreignty of Ireland sur- 
 rendered to King Richard II. by four Irish kings 
 doing homage and fealty in the Church of Saint 
 Mary Magdalene, in the year 139.5; we find also 
 the residence of all the archbishops of Armagh, from 
 the days of St. Patrick until those of primate Rob- 
 inson, in the close of the 18th century. Here many 
 of the English viceroys kept their court and held 
 parliaments; and here was passed the famous law 
 called 'Poyning's Law,' which made the Irish par- 
 liament entirely dependent on that of England, and 
 its edicts of no effect until ratified by the English 
 monarch. In 1641, the progress of the northern 
 Irish, under Owen Roe O'Neill, was stopped by the 
 resolute defence ol the garrison of Drogheda; and 
 in 1649, Cromwell here consummated an act of the 
 most inhuman barbarity, by the slaughter of the 
 garrison and inhabitants for their adherence to King 
 Charles I. 
 
 Last, not least, in 1690, Drogheda resisted the 
 attack of a division of King William's army; and 
 within two miles of its walls was fought the famous 
 'Battle of the Boyne,' which decided the fate of the 
 British empire. 
 
 After this recapitulation, I think it will be ad- 
 mitted that Drogheda possesses scmething more 
 than a local importance; and that, as I before re- 
 marked, its history is intimately blended with the 
 ancient ecclesiastic and military history of Ireland 
 
 British Plants. — Since the discovery of Ameri- 
 ca, the gardens in Great Britain have received 2,34.5 
 varieties of trees and plants from thence — and more 
 than 1,700 from the Cape of Good Hope — besides a 
 vast number received from China, the East Indies, 
 New- Holland, Japan, and different parts of Africa, 
 Asia, and Europe — so that the list of plants now 
 cultivated in England exceeds 12,000 varieties. 
 
 [London and Paris Observer, 
 
 POBBLE O'KEEFE. 
 
 That Ireland has been neglected is, alas ! an in- 
 disputable fact. She has been too truly character- 
 ized as a country for which God has done much, 
 but man little. The causes from which such mel- 
 ancholy results flow are neither few nor simple ; dif- 
 ferent men, and honest men too, will trace their 
 origin to very difi"crent sources. It would be a very 
 difficult, nay, we should almost say a dangerous 
 undertaking, to attempt an impartial investigation 
 of the subject. Ours shall be a more pleasing and 
 easy task— to point the attention of our readers to 
 the benevolent operations of our Government, which 
 have been for sometime in progress, for the ameliora- 
 tion of the condition of the peasantry in a wild and 
 comparatively unknown district, situated on the 
 confines of the counties of Cork, Limerick and 
 Kerry. 
 
 In the prosecution of these operations, men have 
 been employed whose minds appears to have been 
 guided by the best feelings, and who seem to have 
 been well aware that the true interests of a well or- 
 dered government are insured by the gratitude and I 
 affection of the governed. 
 
 The history of the district to which we have al- 
 luded has been summarily given by a gentleman, 
 who has well described it as a theatre of a desolat- 
 ing warfare in the reigns of Elizabeth and James the 
 First— as the refuge of outlaws in the reigns of Wil- 
 liam the Third and Anne, and the very focus of the 
 more recent insurrectionary movements of the last 
 ten or fifteen years. 
 
 An extensive tract of country, comprehending up- 
 wards of 900 square miles, in many places very pop- 
 ulous, yet containing but two small villages, and 
 possessing but two resident landed proprietors, 
 namely. Knight of Glynn, and Mr. Leader, of Dro- 
 magh, was distinguished, as might have been ex- 
 pected under such circumstances, by a more than 
 ordinary degree of indolence, discontentedness, and 
 turbulence, in its inhabitants ; and their abodes be- 
 ing almost inaccessible for want of roads, crime fre- 
 quently escaped unpunished. During the disturb- 
 ances of the winter of 1821 and the spring of 1822, 
 this district was the asylum for ^^'hiteboys, smug- 
 glers, and midnight marauders. Stolen cattle were 
 constantly driven into it, from the surrounding flat 
 and fertile country, as to a safe and impenetrable 
 retreat. 
 
 The only passes ever made through this part of 
 the country previously to 1829, were effected at the 
 instance and expense" of the English Government 
 immediately subsequent to the rebellion of the Earl 
 of Desmond, of whose extensive territory the dis- 
 trict of which we have been speaking formed a part. 
 These passes or roads were laid out in straight lines 
 without any reference to the nature of the country, 
 and ran directly over hill and valley from one mil- 
 itary point to another. 
 
 A vast change has been effected in the state of the 
 district and its inhabitants since the month of Sep- 
 tember, 1822, when new lines of road were laid out, 
 under the direction of a man of distinguished talent 
 and information, Mr. Griffith, the civil engineer, 
 sent down for that purpose, and for the direction of 
 other public works, undertaken for the employment 
 of the poor, in consequence of the scarcity which 
 prevailed in the summer of that year. 
 
 The progress of this important change he has thus 
 described;— 'At the commencement of the works 
 the people flocked to them from all quarters, seek- 
 ing employment at any rate which might be offered. 
 Their general appearance bespoke extreme poverty ; 
 their looks were haggard, and their clothing wretch- 
 ed ; they rarely possessed any instruments of hus- 
 bandry beyond a very small ill-made spade, and as 
 a consequence it foUo\ved that nearly the whole face 
 of the country was unimproved and in a state of na- 
 ture. But since tlie completion of tho roads in 
 1829, rapid strides have been made towards cultiva- I 
 
 tion and improvement ; upwards of sixty new lime 
 kilns were built for the purpose of burning lime for 
 agriculture within the two preceding years; carts, 
 ploughs, and haiTows, of superior consfmction, be- 
 came common ; new houses of a better class were 
 built m great numbers in the vicinity of the new 
 roads, and also in the adjacent villages of Nc^vmar- 
 ket. Castle island, and Abbeyfcale ; new enclosures 
 of mountain farms have been made in every direc- 
 tion; and this country, which, at no distant period, 
 was the scene of lawless outrage, and one of the 
 strongholds of what might be turned the rebel army, 
 quickly became perfectly tranquil, and exhibited a 
 scene of industry and exertion at once pleasing and 
 remarkable. To the credit of the people be it told, 
 that a large portion of the money received by them 
 for labor on the roads was husbanded with care, 
 and subquently laid out in building substantial 
 houses, and in the purchase of cattle and imple- 
 ments of husbandry, and numerous examples might 
 be adduced of poor laborers, possessing neither 
 money, houses, nor lands, when first employed on 
 the public roads, who, within a short period, were 
 able to take farms, build houses, and stock their 
 lands with cows and young cattle.' 
 
 These representations of the important benefits 
 resulting to the agriculture of the country, from 
 merely opening new lines of easy and direct com- 
 munication with it from the markets in its vicinity, 
 and of their ameliorating influence over the habits 
 and condition of the peasantry inhabiting it, are 
 abundantly corroberated by the evidence of other 
 persons, to be found in the Report of the Commit- 
 tee of Inquiry into the State of the Poor in Ireland. 
 The improvements above described, which are at- 
 tributable to the new roads, do not extend to the 
 whole of the mountain district, situated between 
 the river Shannon and the river Blackwater. There 
 remains a considerable portion extending northward 
 from the Blackwater to a line drawn between the 
 towns of Castle island and Newmarket, comprehend- 
 ing an area of about 200 square miles, or 128,000 
 acres, in which there is no road passable even for 
 horsemen during the winter months. 
 
 In the very centre of this unopened district, at 
 about ten miles distance from Castle island, on the 
 west, and from Newarketand Kanturk, on the east, 
 are situated the Crown lands, called the lands of 
 Pobble 0'Keefe(the land of O'Keefe's people. They 
 extend in length from north to south, parallel with 
 the Blackwater (by which they are in great part 
 bounded on the west,) about seven miles ; and in 
 breadth from west to east, on which side they are 
 bounded by the Awnaglyn, or Auntharaglyn, a 
 mountain-stream flowing into the Blackwater, near 
 Ahane, about two miles and a quarter ; comprising 
 altogether more than 9,000 statute acres of undulat- 
 ing hilly country, at an average elevation of about 
 500 feet above the level of the sea. The soil varies 
 from a strong clay to a loamy gravel on the higher 
 grounds, with tracts of alluvium, and some peat- 
 bog in the vaUies and along the bottoms. 
 
 The Crown lease being expired, a principal officer 
 in the Department of Woods and Forests— Mr. 
 James AN'eale, from whose report, printed by the 
 House of Commons, the greater part of the proceed- 
 ing matter and of what follows has been taken— 
 personally inspected the estate in the autumn of 
 1828, preliminary to the then intended renewal of 
 the lease or sale of it. Upon that occasion, it ap- 
 peared to him that if an accurate description of all 
 the circumstances of the property in question wero 
 conveyed to the minds of tho commissioners, they 
 would feel that considerations of a higher nature 
 than those which usually govern them in the man- 
 agement of the revenues placed under their charge 
 ought to influence their decision in an ultimate dis- 
 position of this property. He felt the impolicy of 
 consigning its population to the sordid dealings of 
 a middle man or laud-jobber ; and, independontly 
 
148 
 
 imSU MISCELLANY. 
 
 of all considerations uicn-ly economical or fiscal, he 
 conceived it to be esscntiul to the trnm|uility and 
 security of the kingdom, thnt this district, which 
 presents an impregnable military position, command- 
 ing all tlie great roads communicating •with the 
 southwestern section of Ireland, from Limerick, 
 Watcrford, and Cork, and in the heart of a popu- 
 lous and rapidly improving country, should be 
 speedily rendered accessible, and the cultivation ot 
 its natural resources for the amelioration of its in- 
 habitants, promoted as much as possible. 
 
 It appears that >Ir. 'Weale found the cron-n was 
 in the actual possession of only 5,000 acres; the re- 
 mainder, contained in a longitudinal section of the 
 estate, next to the Awnaglyn, being withheld by the 
 adjacent proprietors, who claim to be entitled to the 
 inheritance. The lands which have been surrender- 
 ed to the crown are occupied by upwards of seventy 
 native families, residing in mud cabins, the only 
 buildings on the property, and who subsist almost 
 entirely on the deteriorated produce of a few acres 
 ofpotatoe tillage ; all their other earnings, from the 
 produce of a few cows and the grazing of cattle In 
 the summer months, together with any money they 
 can obtain for harvest work in the adjacent districts, 
 being barely sullicicnt to discharge the rents at 
 which they held the property, amounting to about 
 £580 ; but, however small that sum may appear to 
 be with reference to the extent of the property, and 
 natural capabilities of the soil, it is certain that it is 
 exclusively derived from the mere labor of the pop- 
 ulation seated on it, in persevering endeavors to 
 improve the natural herbage of such small parcels 
 of the lands as are susceptible of cultivation without 
 artificial drainage and the aid of manures and im- 
 plements of husbandry. 
 
 Yet this is the peasantry that are daily, nay, hour- 
 ly stigmatized as lazy, indolent, and worthless — all 
 •nhose poverty and moral degradation are to be as- 
 cribed to their utter want of industry ! And by 
 whom are these calumnies propagated ? Can it be 
 possible that it is by their own countrymen ? Alas ! 
 for poor human nature, it is even so. But let an 
 unprejudiced and enlightened Englishman travel 
 through this unfortunate country, and see things 
 with his own eyes, and what is the result of his 
 candid and unprejudiced observation ? Head it in 
 the able report of Mr. "Wcale to the Commissioners 
 of Woods and Forests. And where were his obser- 
 vations made ? In a district known as the very 
 centre of insurrection and rebellion. If these things 
 be so, do they not convey an important lesson ? But 
 to return to our subject : 
 
 Sir. AVeale, in his report, after relating some 
 striking traits of character, indicating the strongest 
 disposition for industrious habits in the tenantry of 
 these lands, proceeds to show, that the local situa 
 tion of the estate precludes all hope of effecting any 
 permanent or profitable improvement of it as long 
 as the extensive district, of which it forms the nu- 
 cleus, is closed against an easy communication with 
 the surrounding country, and that any expenditure 
 of public money on it would afford but transitory 
 relief to the wTctched population inhabiting it. 
 
 Assuming that Government would provide for an 
 early execution of the requisite new public roads 
 on which alone the practicability of effecting the 
 proposed improvement of the Crown estate depends, 
 Sir. AVcale submits many and various sugges- 
 tions as to the mode of proceeding which appears 
 to him best calculated to effect the foregoing objects. 
 In the first instance, he is of opinion, that plans 
 should be laid down for the draining and subdivid- 
 ing of the lands ; and that, when these plans are 
 settled, the tenantry should be forthwith employed 
 in sinking the drains, and in forming the roads and 
 the internal fences of the allotments or subdivisions. 
 He then proposes the establishment of a village, at 
 a spot which he designates, and which he shows 
 would probably soon become a resting place for 
 carriers and farmers passing to and from Dingle, 
 
 Tralec, Mallow, Macroom, and Cork, andgraduaUy 
 a depot for a variety of inenhandize required for 
 the supply of the circumjacent country. He then 
 proceed* to su(rRcrt, in general terms the erection 
 of several of the principal houncs of the proposed 
 village and other buildinijs, and, among the rest, 
 of one good model ftirm-house and offices — all of 
 these to be constructed (m the most simple plans. 
 In this model farm-house he ■would place a person 
 qualified to instruct the tenantry in the course to 
 be pursued In reclaiming the lands, and in the best 
 modes of husbandry for which they are adapted, 
 which instruction is obviously best promoted by 
 example. 
 
 Tor the laborers' works to be cxcutcd on the es- 
 tate, he recommends that the resident population 
 alone should be »mploT»d, and that they should be 
 paid such rates ot wa«e» in money as may some- 
 what exceed the ordinary rates paid around the 
 nearest towns. 
 
 He then proceeds to other details, both as to the 
 most judicious methods to be adopted with the peo- 
 ple, not only for the improvement of the agricul- 
 tural condition of the estate, but for the growth of 
 the moral habits of the tenantry ; and also a calcu- 
 lation of the probable expense of carrj-ing forward 
 these objects, which, though not reduced to a thor- 
 oughly digested system, yet exhibit a masterly de- 
 sign, and may justly be called a finished sketch, 
 founded on, not only a general knowledge of hu- 
 man nature, but a thorough and intimate acquaint- 
 ance with the Irish national character and modes 
 of thinking, which, surprising as it might be even 
 in one of ourselves, is still more extraordinary in 
 an Englishman, who, however, has shown himself 
 utterly untrammelled by what we are used to call 
 the prejudices of his countrymen. 
 
 Some of his concluding observations arc so just 
 and candid, that we cannot avoid quoting his own 
 words. ' Looking at the present condition and past 
 habits of the people, it would be vain to expect that 
 they could be quickly converted into a skillful ten- 
 antry, or that they could duly appreciate the com- 
 forts and conveniences which it is desired that they 
 should enjoy, if these advantages be prematurely 
 conferred on them ; time must be allowed for the 
 growth of improved habits ; and these will be most 
 effectually excited by the steady encouragement 
 which constant and productive cmplojTnent affords, 
 and will be preserved by assuring to them a certain, 
 but limited tenure of their farms, at such reasonable 
 rents as will admit of a gradual accumulation of 
 capital in their hands, if their means be duly hus- 
 banded,' 
 
 On the recommendation of Mr. Spring Rice, as 
 Chairman of the Committee on Irish Poor, the Gov- 
 ernment resolved to retain the possession of the es- 
 tate, and generally adopted Mr. Weale' s suggestions. 
 The House of Commons, last session, on the motion 
 of Lord Duncannon, authorized the Commissioners 
 of Woods, Stc, to supply £17,000 out of the pro- 
 duce of s.iles of quit-rents, &c. towards the costs of 
 making the new public roads, upon condition that 
 the counties of Cork and Kerry provided £17,000, 
 the remainder of the sum required for that purpose. 
 We hiivc the satisfaction of adding that those coun- 
 ties have promptly availed themselves of the proposal, 
 and at the assizes just concluded, passed present- 
 ments for the stipulated amount ; and that the works 
 are already in progress of erection, under the direc- 
 tion of Mr. Griffith. 
 
 We have now done. Wc can but hope that the 
 same bcnificent and wise spirit which has already 
 influenced the operations of Government in the fore- 
 taste it has given to this most interesting district of 
 I its parental desire for its welfare, and which it must 
 ! gratify every sincere lover of his country to see has 
 I been followed hitherto by such cheering and en- 
 ' couraging results, may stimulate it to carry into fuU 
 I effect the enlightened and clear-sighted views of the 
 excellent individual it has had the discrimination to 
 i select for the important task of which he has so ably 
 acqmtted himself. o'o. 
 
 NATIONAL BIOGRAPHY. 
 
 James Usiieu, Auchhishop or Armagh. 
 
 James Usher, designated by Dr. Johnson as the 
 great luminary of the Irish Church, was bom in the 
 parish of St. Xicholas, Dublin, on the 4th of Jan- 
 uary, liSO. The family name was originally Nevil, 
 but an ancestcr who came into this kingdom with 
 King John, in the quality of Vsher of the Chamber, 
 followed the common custom of the times, in ex- 
 changing the English name for that of the office with 
 which he was invested. His father, Arnold Usher, 
 was one of the Six Clerks in Chancery, and was, 
 says ^\'arc, ' a person in good esteem for his integ- 
 rigity and prudence.' By his mother, he was con- 
 nected with the Stanihursts ; and to his uncle, Rich- 
 ard, equally celebrated as an historian, philosopher, 
 and poet, he was much indebted for the extensive 
 knowledge he possessed of the antiquites and his- 
 tory of his country. The principles of that religion, 
 to which he was so soon to decUcate the power of 
 his mind, were early inculcated by his aunts, who 
 although blind from their cradle, were yet from the 
 retcntivcness of their memory enabled to repeat with 
 accuracy the chief portions of the Bible. At eight 
 years of age he was sent to a grammcr school in 
 Dublin, then kept by two Scotchmen, James Ful- 
 lerton and James Hamilton, who ostensibly fulfill- 
 ing the duties of teachers, were in reality engaged 
 in maintaining a correspondence to secure the pcace- 
 ablesuccessionof James.on the death Elizabeth. The 
 attention of the master was early repaid by the pro- 
 ficiency of the pupil ; and in LOSS, the year in which 
 the College of Dublin was finished, he was one of 
 the first students who were admitted, and placed 
 again under the care of Hamilton, then advanced to 
 the dignity of ' Senior Fellow.' At this period he 
 conceived the somewhat chimerical idea of making 
 himself master of all nations; a study which he 
 pursued with all the energy of an active and deter- 
 mined mind ; and at from fourteen to si.xteen he 
 compiled a scries of SjTioptical Historical Tables, 
 little differing from his Annals, which have since 
 been published. Tlie powers of his mind were not, 
 however, limited to this sphere, but were extended 
 equally to the study of philosophy and language; 
 and after enriching himself with the literature of 
 Greece and Rome, he applied himself to the tor- 
 tuous mysteries of polemical divinity. 
 
 The result of this may be readily conceived ; he 
 who is prepared to argue, seeks with avidity for the 
 opportunity of display ; and in 1599, in his 19th 
 year, we accordingly find him challenging and en- 
 tering the lists of Theological disputation with the 
 learned Jesuit Fitzsimons, then a prisoner in Dub- 
 lin Castle. The tame that he acquired by this, and 
 the consideration due to his extraordinary acquire- 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 149 
 
 ments, speedily obtained him the attention of his 
 countnnncn, and the patronage of the Crown. IIo 
 ■was ordained a deacon and priest, though under 
 canonical ago, through a special dispensation, by 
 his uncle, Henry Usher, Archbisliop of Armagh. 
 To t his were added the appointments of afternoon 
 lecturer at Christ Church ; proctor, and catechetical 
 lecturer of the University; ofHces in which he dis- 
 played his extensive erudition, the aptness of his 
 mind in canvassing the various controversial points 
 between the Catholics and Protestants, and a steady 
 determination in opposing the toleration which was 
 then solicited by the former. It was at this period 
 he preached his celebrated sermon from Ezekiel iv. 
 6. ' And thou shalt bear the iniquity of the house 
 of Judah forty years : I have appointed thee each 
 day for a year ;' and the rebellion of 16il, having 
 occurred about this time, the text was hailed and 
 reverenced by the spirit of prophecy, and there was 
 even a treatise published, ' de Predictionibus Us- 
 serii.' By the liberality of the Officers of the Eng- 
 lish army, who contributed £1S00 to augment the 
 library of the University, he was, together with Dr. 
 Challoner, commissioned to proceed to England to 
 purchase works, chiefly relative to English history 
 and antiquities. A similarity of objects and literary 
 tastes, speedily gained him the acquaintance of Sir 
 Thomas Bodley, Camden, Cotton, and Allen ; the 
 former of whom gratefully acknowledges his obliga- 
 tions to Usher, ' who in various learning and judg- 
 ment ' he observes, ' far exceeds his years.' In 1607 
 he took his degree of Bachelor of Divinity, and by 
 Archbishop Loftus he was immediately promoted to 
 the Chancellorship of St. Patricks'. 
 
 His time was now exclusively devoted to the 
 duties of religion, and the pursuits of literature ; he 
 could not consider himself as absolved before God 
 from the exercise of his functions, in the place 
 from whence he received his maintenance ; he made 
 it the sphere of his charity and hospitality ; he lec- 
 tured weekly on the customary controversial points, 
 and particularly against the doctrine of Bellarmine, 
 nor did he indulge in the slightest relaxation, ex- 
 cepting during his residence in England, at his tri- 
 ennial visit to Oxford; Cambridge, and London. At 
 the commeneement of 1610, he was elected Provost 
 of Trinity College, but which no entreaty could in- 
 duce him to accept; and in 1613, on his return to 
 England, he published an elaborate and learned 
 work, entitled, ' De Ecclesiarum Christianarum 
 succssione et statu,' &c., dedicated and highly ac- 
 ceptable to King James. Of its merits, Casaubon, 
 Sculter, and Martin, held favorable opinions ; and, 
 although it engaged him in controversy with Stani- 
 hurst, yet even he adds his own testimony to the 
 learning and abilities he displayed. Soon after his 
 marriage with Phcebe, daughter of Dr. Luke Chal- 
 loner, he was engaged at the general convocation of 
 the clergy, in drawing up the Articles of the Irish 
 Church, in which the doctrines of predestination 
 and reprobation were asserted in the strongest terms. 
 This subjected him to considerable misrepresenta- 
 tion, nor was it till he had obtained a personal con- 
 ference with the king, that his unfavorable opinions 
 were removed. 
 
 So satisfactory and pleasing was the interview to 
 the monarch, that in 1620, he was promoted to the 
 Bishopric of Meath, and several years to the ."Vreh- 
 bishopric of Armagh. Kiches, authority, and sta- 
 tion did not, however, induce idleness, or beget in- 
 difference ; he employed much time in the origin of 
 the predestinarian controversy, on which he publish 
 ed the first Latin book ever printed in Ireland — 
 ' Goteschalchi et Predestinatione Controversia,' 
 vhich was followed, in the succeeding year, by the 
 ' Veterum Epistolarum Ilibemicarum Sylloge," a 
 , collection of letters to and from Irish bLshops and 
 I monks, from 592 to IISO, concerning the affairs of 
 the Irish Church. He likewise entered into con- 
 troversy with MaloneandKockwood ; with the for- 
 
 mer, in consequence of his challenge, and with the 
 latter, in compliance with the request of Lady Pe- 
 tcrborough. 
 
 The correspondence, which he maintained in al- 
 most every country, was of considerable importance 
 to the advancement of learning ; and this was main- 
 tained at a period not only of political but the high- 
 est religious excitement. He assisted Dr. Walton 
 in his splendid Polyglot, obtained considerable ad- 
 vantages for the university by his connection with 
 Laud, reformed his own dioceso and the disorders 
 of the ecclesiastical courts. In 1639 was produced 
 his ' Brittannicarum Ecclesiarum Antiquitates,' a 
 work which has been of considerable service to Stil- 
 lingfleet and Lloyd in their several learned works. 
 
 In the rebellion of 1641, Usher was plundered of 
 his property, and nothing escaped the fury of the 
 times but his library and furniture ; the former was 
 immediately conveyed to England, and, although he 
 was presented with the Bishopric of Carlisle in com- 
 mendam, yet the encampment of the Scotch and 
 English armies reduced the revenues, and the par- 
 liament evaded the payment of the pension which 
 had been granted on their seizure of the lands be- 
 longing to the English bishops. It is said that he 
 refused, at this period, the invitation of Cardinal 
 Richellen, to reside in France with a considerable 
 pension, and that likewise he declined the Professor- 
 ship of Leyden, offered to him by the States of Ley- 
 den. But it was not in the power of misfortune to 
 affect the mind of Usher ; philosophy had taught 
 him to endure, and religion the duty of enduring, 
 with the equable feeling of a Christian, the dispen- 
 sations of God. He had valued riehes only as the 
 means of acquiring knowledge, and extending char- 
 ity ; and he estimated power only as it enabled him. 
 to do good. He was now immersed in the afflicting 
 period of the civil war : Charles and his court had 
 retreated to O.xford, whither Usher proceeded, liv- 
 ing in Dr. Prideaux's house, that he might more 
 readily pursue his studies in the library of Exeter 
 college. During the years 1643 and 1644, he suc- 
 cessively published, ' A Geographical and Histori- 
 cal Disquisition touching lesser Asia,' and 'The 
 epistles of St. Ignatius,' independent of his replies 
 to queries respecting the lawfulness of levying war 
 against the King. From Oxford he proceeded to 
 Bristol, in attendance on the Prince of Wales ; and 
 from thence to St. Donates, the seat of Lady Srad- 
 ling, where he was afflicted by a sudden and severe 
 illness." On his recovery, he returned to London, 
 on the invitation of the Countess of Peterborough, 
 in whose house he resided for nearly eight years, 
 during which time he officiated as preacher to Lin- 
 coln's Inn, where the Society had provided rooms 
 for his library, which having escaped the rapacity of 
 the Parliament, was now removed from Chester. 
 
 In 1647, he published the ' Diatriba de Romana; 
 Ecclesioe Symbolo Apostolico Vetere,' which was 
 dedicated to Gerard Vossius. This was followed in 
 1648, by his learned dissertation on the solar year ; 
 and having warmly engaged in the controversy with 
 the parliamentary commissionersrespecting the gov- 
 ernment of the church, he retired from all active 
 duty, on the ascendancy of the independant party, 
 and the subsequent death of the king. In 16.')0, and 
 16S4, he compiled his Annals of the Old Testament; 
 and in 1658, his last work, De Gra>ca Septuaginta, 
 to which he added a dissertation concerning Canain, 
 and a letter to the learned Lewis Chappel. 
 
 But however vigorous and unimpaired were the 
 powers of his mind, his bodily faculties were now 
 withering beneath the afflictions of age, his eye- 
 sight was extremely decayed, and he felt that every 
 hour was the successive monitor of approaching 
 death. lie had been accustomed every year to note 
 in his almanack the year of his age, so in this, 1065, 
 he wrote, ' Xow aged seventy-five years, my days 
 are full — Resignation.' On the 20th of March, he 
 was seized with a severe attack of sciatica, his 
 
 strength and spirits rapidly decayed; and after a 
 few hours of intense prayer andpiousthanksgivingg, 
 he resigned his spirit with the meek pleasure of a 
 sincere Christian, who overcomes the bitterness of 
 death by the recollection of his well spent life. 
 Cromwell claimed the honor of burying him at his 
 own expense, which he did, with great pomp, in 
 Westminster Abbey, near the grave of Sir John Ful- 
 lerton, his former master. Such was Usher, unit- 
 ing uncommon learning with great acutencss ; ele- 
 vation of station with the sincerest humility ; he at 
 once instructed the clergy and society by his exam- 
 ple and his precepts ; his life will be ever considered 
 as a model of moderation in power, and submission 
 in misfortune, of the most extensive charity towards 
 man, and the humblest piety towards God. 
 
 The limits of our journal have prevented our in- 
 dulging in detail ; such of our readers who may 
 wish to extend their knowledge of his life, will be 
 much gratified by perusing the Biographies of Dr. 
 Smith, and Dr. Richard Parr. h. 
 
 Napoleon's Light Cavalry. — The following is 
 the character drawn by Monsieur de Rocca of the 
 French Light Cavalry under Napoleon I.: 'The 
 Hussars and Chasseurs were generally accused of 
 being plunderers and prodigal, loving drink, and 
 fancying everything fair in the presence of the ene- 
 my. Accustomed, one may almost say, to sleep 
 with an open eye, to have an ear always awake to 
 the sound of the trumpet, to reconnoitre far in ad- 
 vance during a march, to trace the ambuscades of 
 the enemy, to observe the slightest trace of their 
 marches, to examine defiles, and to scan the plains 
 with eagle sight, they could not fail to have ac- 
 quired superior intelligence and habits of indepen- 
 dence. Nevertheless, they were always silent and 
 submissive in presence of their officers, for fear of 
 being dismounted. Forever smoking, to pass away 
 his time, the light horseman, under his large cloak, 
 braved in every country the rigor of the seasons. 
 The rider and his horse, accustomed to live togeth- 
 er, contracted a character of resemblance. The 
 rider derived animation from his horse, and the 
 horse from his rider. AVhen a Hussar not quite 
 sober, pressed his horse to speed in ravines or 
 among precipices, the horse assumed the empire 
 which reason might have given to the man; he re- 
 strained his spirit, redoubled his caution, avoided 
 danger, and always returned, after a few turnings, 
 to take his own and his master's place in the ranks. 
 Sometimes, also, during a march, the horse would 
 generally slacken his pace, or lean on one side or 
 the other, to keep his intoxicated and sleeping mas- 
 ter in the saddle; and jvhen the involuntary sleep 
 was over, and the Hussar saw his horse panting 
 with fatigue, he would weep and swear never to 
 drink more. For several days he would march on 
 foot, and go without his own bread to feed his com- 
 panion. When a carbine shot from the videttes, 
 gave the alarm in a camp of Light Cavalry, every 
 horse was saddled in an instant, and the French 
 horsemen were seen on every side, leaping over the 
 fires of the bivouac, the hedges, the ditches, and, 
 with the rapidity of lightning, flying to the place of 
 rendezvous to repel the first attack of the enemy. 
 The trumpter's horse alone remained impassive in 
 the midst of the tumult; but the moment his mas- 
 ter had ceased to blow, he pawed the ground with 
 impatience, and hastened to join his comrades.' 
 
 A water spaniel lately leaped from the -v-iaduct 
 over the river lioyne, Ireland, a height of 102 feet, 
 after his master's stick, whicli he succeeding in re- 
 covering. 
 
 Allen, in conversation with Samael Rogers, ob- 
 served, 'I never put ray razor into hot water, as I find 
 it injures the temper of the blade' 'No doubt of it,' 
 said the wit; 'show me the blade that would not be 
 out of temper if plunged into hot water.' 
 
150 
 
 IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 TKE NEEDLES— HOWTH. 
 
 We r'tiicns of Dublin are proud of the beauty 
 of our SI burban scenery, and justly, for there is 
 perhaps, no other city in the Uritish empire that 
 ' an boast of such a variety of picturesque land- 
 scapes, as arc comprised within a circuit of ten or 
 twelve miles of our metropolis. Other cities may 
 rival, or perhaps excel us in the beauty or maf^ifi- 
 cence of some particular feature, but in diversity of 
 scenic beauty we may defy competition. There is 
 no variety of landscape or marine scenery that 
 ■will not be found within this limited cercumfer- 
 ence. As for c-tamplc, the river scenery of the 
 Liffey, the Hray river, the Dodder, the Tolka and 
 the Nanny-water, each differing in its character 
 and yet beautiful of its kind; the solitary moun- 
 tain valleys of GlencuUcn, Glen-dubh, and Cilenas- 
 ' mol; the Dargle; the sublime mountain tarn. Lough 
 Bray; the richly wooded, undulating country to 
 the south of the city, and the green pastoral plains 
 of I'ingal to the north; the low villa-spotted shores 
 of the bay, and the more solitary and magnitieent 
 coast scenery of Howth and Killiney; the island 
 cliffs of Dalkcy and Ireland's eye. In short, it is 
 almost impossible even to ennumerate within our 
 limited compass the various beautiful objects which 
 on every side of Dublin are presented to the eye, 
 and that may be visited in a drive of an hour or 
 two. Nor ia our vicinity less rich in the various 
 objects interesting to the naturalist, the bot.inist, or 
 the geologist, and which should not be wholly un- 
 familiar to every enquiring mind. In the memori- 
 als of man in by-gone times, it is equally well stor- 
 ed: the rude Druidie tomb or altar; the cairn; the 
 rath or moatc; the simple oratory of the earliest 
 Christian times; the round tower so peculiar to our 
 island; the abbey; the baronial castle and the old 
 venerable triangular-gabled mansion of the resi- 
 dent squire of former days; — all these arc to be 
 found dispersed over its surface, and with their 
 
 THE NEEDLES — HOWTH. 
 
 kind which they possess, and wc are quite sure 
 that they do not enjoy them as they should. Wc 
 know indeed, that they pour forth in thousands, to 
 indulge in the unhealthy excitement of the bustle 
 and dust of the drive to Kingstown; but this is 
 mere fashion, habit, or call it what you will — it is 
 not the sober and quiet enjoj-ment of nature. The 
 more solitary and sublime scenery of the country is 
 wholly deserted, or only known to the musing 
 spendthrift of time, the angler. This want of feel- 
 ing for the enjoyment of nature's beauty we deeply 
 regret, in the poet's words — 
 
 'Knowing that nature never did betray 
 The heart that loved her; 'tis her privilege, 
 Through ntl tlie years of this our Ijfe, to lead 
 From joy to joy : for she can so inform 
 The lieart that is within us, so impress 
 "With (quietness and beauty, and so feed 
 "With lolty thoughts, that iieitlier evil tongues, 
 Itnsn JTidjjments, nor the sneers of selfish raeu, 
 Nor crectiups, where no kindness is, uor all 
 'J'he (Treiiry intercourse of daily life, 
 Shall e'er prevail against us, or disturb 
 Our chccrtui Inith, that all wbich we behold 
 Is full of blessings.' 
 
 Many cases, unfortunately, have concnrred and still 
 concur to produce this apathy; — political excite- 
 ments — artificial habits — as the same great poet 
 says, — 
 
 'The world is too much with us; late and soon, 
 Getting and spending, wc lav waste our puWcrs: 
 Little wc see iu nature that is ours ; 
 M't: have given our hearts away, a sordid boon! 
 The sea that bears her bosom to the moon ; 
 The winds that will be howling at all hours. 
 And are up gathered now like sleeping flowers; 
 
 1-or thii 
 It muvi- 
 
 Ion 
 
 TV thing, 
 
 (irealt 
 
 rkled i 
 stuii.ling uu thi 
 
 pleasant Icfu 
 
 Have glimp-cs ihul wnultl unike me less lorlom; 
 Have sight of I'roteus rising from the sea; 
 Or hour old Triton blow his wreathed horn.' 
 
 Other causes, arising out of the want of cuvltiation of 
 intellcctu.ll tastes, wc shall apply ourselves earnestly 
 to remove. With ihis object it is our intention shortly 
 to commence a series of walks in the vicinity of Dub- 
 lin, directing the attention of our readers to the vari- 
 ous olijecis to be met wiih, either of picturesque or 
 historic interest, and occasionally illustrating our sub- 
 
 traditions, supply food for pleasing contemplation j^^, „.j,h i||„siralions. 
 
 and instructive thought. ^y^ 1,.^^.^ h^^,, ,p,, i,,,^ ,^^5^ observations, on look- 
 
 Notwithstanding, however, this profusion of at- \i„g „t 0^^ prelixed wood engravmg, which represents 
 tractions to tempt us to the purest and most purify- !» ^ui.j.ct of no common sublimity and grandeur, and 
 ing, the cheapest and most valuable of aU enjoy- „(,ich notwithstanding is, we are persuaded, but little 
 ments— the plesures derivable from the charms of known to our fellow-citizens. Such a scene, if it hap- 
 naturc, we are of opinion that the great majority of ptned to be a hundred miles off, would be visited, at 
 the inhabitants of Dublin have as yet but very im- jlca.st by our aristocracy, to show their fashionable 
 perfectly learned to appreciate the treasures of this Ijaslo and disregard of expense j but within the short 
 
 distance of an hnmblc pedestrian walk, it ofTcrs no 
 such grntilicaiion, and consequently remnins unknown 
 or disregarded. It is a view of 'he Light-house of 
 Howth as seen from the shore, through a vista between 
 the two remarkably pointed rocks on the south side of 
 that beautiful promontory, popnlarly known to mari- 
 ners by ihe name of ' Ihe Needles,' or scmeiimes, 'the 
 Candlesticks.' These singular features irc ihc re- 
 imains of a rocky headland worn into these fantastic 
 Torms by the action of the poweifnl element to whose 
 fuPi- they are exposed. Nothing can be more pic- 
 turesquely imagined than the siluation of the distant 
 Pharos, placed upon a lofiy and precipitous conical 
 rock, almost insulated, and connecled wiili the land by 
 a bridge ; — standing out boldly among the waves, and 
 commanding both the southern and eastern iron bound 
 cliff's of the great promontory with which it is con- 
 nected, it seems prcdeslined by nature for ihc purpose 
 to which it is applied. This rock is popularly called 
 the Bnily, a corruplion of Bally, (Ballium, a habita- 
 tion,) a nan e originally applied to the ancient ciicrlar 
 fortress which crowned its summit previous to tlio 
 erection of the present buildings. This forlrcss was 
 traditionally said to hare been the work of the Dunes. 
 iThe Light-house is a building of verj- modern date, 
 erected by the Ballast Board, the older light-house 
 having been found inefficient from the greater loftiness 
 of its situation, which rendered it subject to be obscured 
 by clouds and mists. It is now disused. The light 
 in the present structure is produced by a set of reflec- 
 tors ground to ihe parabolic form, in the foci of which 
 jiargo oil lumps are placed, according to the system 
 inow generally adopted by the Trinity-house. 
 I The scenery of the South side of Ilowth, of which 
 our illustration forms a part, presents a succession of 
 beautiful and picturesque features, but which can only 
 lie properly enjoyed by the pedestrian, as the road, for 
 the greater i>art, winds too far away to allow of their 
 being seen. And it is only from these bold crags that 
 the beanly of our bay can be fairly appreciated, as they 
 command the whole of its spacious marine amphithe- 
 atre, and the entire range of the Dublin and Wicklow 
 Mountains. P- 
 
 A few days since, n barber offered a reward of fif- 
 ty dollars for the best receipt for ' instantly remov- 
 ing superfluous hair." Among the answers was one 
 forwarded by a gentleman who speaks from experi- 
 ence. We give it : ' Undertake to kiss a woman 
 lagainst her will." 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 151 
 
 MELANCHOLY CASE OF HYDROPHOBIA. 
 
 Pining my (irst season at llie Dublin University, I 
 was in\iti.d to spend a sliort vaeation witli avelativoof" 
 my niotlier. He lived in the south of Ireland, in an 
 ancient family mansion-house, situated in the moun- 
 tains, and at a eonsiderable distaneo from the mail- 
 coaeh road. 
 
 This gentleman was many years older than I. Ho 
 liad an only sister, a girl of sixteen, beautiful and ac- 
 complished ; at the period of my visit she was still at 
 school, but was to finally leave it, as my host informed 
 me, at Midsummer. 
 
 Never was there a more perfect specimen of primi- 
 tive Milesian life, than that which the domicile of my 
 worthy relative exhibited. The house was enormously 
 liirge — half ruinous — and all, within and without, wild, 
 ricketty, and irregular. There was a troop of idle and 
 slatterny servants of both sexes, distracting every de- 
 partment of the establishment; and a pack of useless 
 dogs infesting the premises, and crossing you at every 
 turn. Between the biped and quadruped nuisances an 
 eternal war was carried on, and not an hour of the day 
 elapsed, but a canine outcry announced that some of 
 tliose unhappy curs were being ejected by the butler, 
 or pelted by the cook. 
 
 So common-place was this everlasting uproar, that 
 after a few days 1 almost ceased to notice it. I was 
 dressing for dinner, when the noise of dogs quarrelling 
 in the yard, brought me to the window ; a terrier was 
 being worried by a rough savage-looking fox-hound, 
 whom I had before this noticed and avoided. At the 
 moment, my host was crossing from the stable ; he 
 struck the hound with his whip, bnt regardless of the 
 blow, he still continued his attack upon the smaller 
 dog. The old butler, in coming from the garden, ob- 
 served the dogs fighting, and stopped to assist in sep- 
 arating them. Just then, the brute quitted the terrier, 
 seized the master by the leg, and cut the servant in the 
 hand. A groom rushed out on hearing the nproar, 
 struck the prongs of a pitchfork through the dog's 
 body, and killed him on the spot. This scene occurred 
 in less time than I have taken in relating it. 
 
 I hastened from my dressing-room ; my host had 
 bared his leg, and was washing the wound, which was 
 a jagged tear from the hound's tooth. Part of the 
 skin was loose, and a sudden thought appeared to 
 strike him — he desired an iron to be heated, took a 
 sharp penknife from his pocket, coolly and effectually 
 removed the ragged flesh, and, regardless of the agony 
 it occasioned, with amazing determination cauterized 
 the wound severely. 
 
 The butler, however, contented himself with bind- 
 ing up nis bleeding hand. He endeavored to dissuade 
 his master from undergoing, what he considered to he 
 unnecessary pain. ' The dog was dead, sure, and that 
 was quite sulKcient to prevent any danger arising from 
 the bite;' and satisfied with this precaution, he re- 
 mained inditterent to future consequences, and in per- 
 fect confidence that no ulterior injury could occur from 
 the wound. 
 
 Three months passed away — my friend's sister was 
 returning from school ; and as the mountain road was 
 in bad repair, and a liridge had been swept away by 
 the floods, saddle-horses were sent to meet the car- 
 riage. The old butler, who had some private affairs 
 to transact in the neighboring town, volunteered to bo 
 the escort of his young mistress, and obtained per- 
 mission. 
 
 That there was something unusual in the look and 
 manner of her attendant, was quickly remarked by the 
 lady. His address was wild and hurried, and some 
 extraordinary feelings appeared to agitate him. To 
 an enquiry if ho was unwell, he returned a vague un- 
 meaning answer ; he trembled violently when assisting 
 her on horseback, and it was evident that some strange 
 and fearful sensations disturbed him. 
 
 They rode some miles rapidly, until they reached 
 the rivulet where the bridge had been carried off by 
 the flood. To cross the stream was no way difficult, 
 OS the water barely covered the horse's fetlock. The 
 lady had ridden through the water, when a thrilling 
 cry of indescribable agony from her attendant arrested 
 
 I her. Her servant was upon the opposite side endeav- 
 i oring to rein in his unwilling horse, and in his face 
 j there was a horrible and convulsed look that terrified 
 his alarmed mistress. To her anxious questions, he 
 only replied by groans, which too truly betrayed his 
 sufl'crings ; at last^ he pointed to the stream before 
 him, and exclaimed, 'I cannot, dare not cross it! Oh 
 God ! I am lost ! the dog — the dog !' 
 
 What situulion could be more frightful th.in that in 
 which the lady found herself ^ In the centre of a des- 
 olate and unpeopled moor, far from assistance, and 
 left alone with a person afflicted with decided madness. 
 She might, it is true, have abandoned him, for the ter- 
 rors of the poor wretch would have prevented him 
 from crossing the rivulet; but with extraordinary 
 courage she returned, seized the bridle fearlessly, and 
 notwithst.inding the outcries of the unhappy man, 
 forced his horse through the water, and never left his 
 side, until she fortunately overtook some tenants of 
 her brother returning from a neighboring fair. 
 
 I arrived on a visit the third evening after this oc- 
 currence, and the recollection of that poor old man's 
 suft'erings has ever since haunted my memory. All 
 that medical skill and affectionate attention on his 
 master's part could do to assuage his pain, and miti- 
 gate the agonies he occasionally underwent, was done. 
 At length the moment that was devoutly prayed for 
 came, he died on the sixth morning. 
 
 Prom this horrible fate nothing but his own deter- 
 mination preserved my relative ; and by the timely 
 use of a painful remedy, excision and cautery of the 
 wound, he escaped this dreadful disease. 
 
 [AVild Sports of the AVest. 
 
 THE HARPER O'CONNELLAN. 
 
 There is perhaps nothing, of wliioh an Irish:-nan may 
 feel more justly proud than the native melodies of his 
 country. Whatever tone o f feeling they assume — 
 whether of cheerfulness or of tenderness, of wild mer- 
 riment, or of deep sorrow, there is in them a grace 
 and deUcacy of feeling and a force and eaniestness of 
 passion, such as we in vain look for in the national 
 music of any other country in the world, and which, 
 as an unerring index of national character is most 
 honorable to our little land of song. Our inestimable 
 bard, Thomas Moore, has erred deplorably in suppos- 
 ing that our fine melodies must be of modern date 
 because ' it is diSicult to conceive those polished speci- 
 mens of the art to be anterior to the dawn of modern 
 improvements.' True melody — the music of the soul, 
 has no mortal artist for its inventor, it has been im- 
 planted in man's nature, as a pure and heavenly gift, 
 by the great Creator himself, and the greatest masters 
 of the art in modern days in vain attempt to rival the 
 soul possessing and unaffected melodies of the un- 
 learned minstrels of ancient days. In what did the 
 real secret of the wizard Paganini's powers of aston- 
 ishing or binding as by a spell the feelings of his hear- 
 ers consist ? Not in his extraordinary powers as an 
 artist, great and matchless as those powers were in 
 mastering the difficulties of art — but in deep passion 
 — the entire soul which he threw into a simple melo- 
 dy ! Let our readers remember his performance of 
 ' the prayer ' by Rossini — the dead silence by which 
 thousands were enchained, the palpitating hearts, the 
 streaming eyes, and he will find how greatly superior 
 in its effect a simple melody performed with passionate 
 expression, is to the most refined labors of modern art. 
 But it will bo said this magical melody is Italian ! AVc 
 reply it is not. It is but a slight variation of the well 
 known song 'How stands the glass around,' composed 
 by our countryman, General Wolfe, in the very soul 
 and spirit of the music of his country ! Our most beau- 
 tiful melodies are indeed the most simple and the most 
 ancient — tlicir origin is involved in the dim obscurity 
 of time. We had composers, however, within the last 
 two centuries, whose strains, while they betray an ac- 
 quaintance with the refinements of modern art, still 
 retain a great deal of the simple and touching beauty 
 that characterizes the earlier melodies of our country. 
 
 Of the melodies of these musicians, those of Caro- 
 lan, the last great bard of Erin, arc well known, but 
 
 [ he compositions of his immediate predecessor, Con 
 ellan, arc less familiar to the public, and arc far too 
 little appreciated. Unlortunately but little is known 
 of his history, and but few of his melodies have been 
 preserved: but those few, are in their kind of unri- 
 valled beauty, and far superior to the compositions of 
 Carolan. From Mr. Hardiman's valuable 'Irish Min- 
 strelsy,' wo learn that Thomas O'Concllan was born 
 at Cloony Mahon in the county of Sligo, early in the 
 seventeenth century, and died in Lough Gur in the 
 county of Limerick, sometime previous to the year 
 1700. Of the remaining airs generally attributed to 
 him arc, 'the Jointure;' 'If to a foreign clime I go;' 
 'Love in secret,' which truly 'dallies with the innocenca 
 of love, like the old age;' ' Planxty Davis,' which is 
 known to the Scotch as 'the battle of Killicranky;' 
 and the 'breach of Aughrim,' which is more properly 
 known under the name of 'Farewell to Lochaber.' 
 These later melodies were introduced into Scotland 
 after his death by a brother of the deceased bard's, 
 named Laurence. 
 
 According to tradition, the skill of O'Conellan as a 
 performer was equal to his inventive powers as a com- 
 poser, and Mr. Hardiman has preseved a little Irish 
 ode addressed to him in praise of his matchless pow- 
 ers, in a strain of poetic beauty worthy of the occasion 
 which gave it birth: we present it to our readers in a 
 new English dressi — 
 
 or>E TO THE MIKSTREL O'COHMELAW. 
 
 AVherever harp note ringeth 
 
 lerne's isle around, 
 Thy hand its sweetness flingetb, 
 
 Surpassing mortal sound. 
 Thy spirit music speaketh 
 
 Above the miustre! throng, 
 And thy rival vainly eeeketli 
 
 The secret of thy songl 
 
 In the castle, in the shieling, 
 
 In foreijjn kingly hall, 
 Thou art master of each feeling 
 
 And honored tirst of all! 
 Thy wild and wizard finger 
 
 Sweepeth cords unknown to art. 
 And melodies that linger 
 
 In the memory of the heart! 
 
 Though faijy music slumbers 
 
 By forest-glade and hill. 
 In thy unearthly numbers 
 
 Men say 'tis living still ! 
 All its compas of wild sweetness 
 
 Thy master hand obeys, 
 As its airy fitful fleetuess 
 
 O'er harp and heartstring plays. 
 
 By thee the thrill of anguish 
 
 Is softly lulled to rest; 
 By thee tlie hopes that languish 
 
 Kekindled in the breast. 
 Thy spii-it chaseth sorrow 
 
 Like morning mists away, 
 And gaily robes to-morrow 
 
 In tlie gladness of thy lay! 
 
 NAPOLiseN AND Henry VIII. — See him ere the 
 blow of death has prostrated him. See him in calm- 
 ness and composure reasoning with one of his old gen- 
 erals and companions of his exile on St. Helena, and 
 concluding, ' You do not admit that Jesus Christ is 
 God ! I was wrong in making you a General !' See 
 him in all the candid simplicity of a man forced in 
 spite of pride, ambition and every worldly motive, to 
 admit the supremacy of the Ch.air of Peter, whose au- 
 thority he had outraged, and whose incumbent he had 
 wronged ; sec him, I say, as related by one of the vol- 
 untary sharers of his captivity, expressing his indigna- 
 tion and regret at the repeated appeals to him, when 
 in the zenith of his glory. To throw off all allegiance 
 to the Church of Rome, to start even a new system of 
 religion and proclaim himself, as Henry VIII. of Eng- 
 land had before him, 'Head and Front" of the new 
 dispensation ! ' Once,' said Napoleon to Bertrand or 
 Beaulheme, ' as I was pressed to yield to such sug- 
 gestions, I stopped the speaker, and 'said, ' That's 
 enough, sir ! Do you want me to be crucified V He 
 looked at me surprised, ' I know," said I, ' this is not 
 your idea, nor is it mine, but it was necessary for the 
 true religion. And I neither know, nor wish to know, 
 any other.' In the words of a modem Christian wri- 
 ter, 'Napoleon, the incarnation of military and civil 
 genius, turned his eyes towards that Rome which he 
 had so often persecuted, and begged for a Catholic 
 priest to receive his dying confession ; and to reconcile 
 him with the Sec of St. Peter !' Sec him on his bed 
 of death, from the 27th April, 1821— till his last mo- 
 ment he occupied himself exclusively with spiritual 
 matters. — Jly Trip to France. 
 
152 
 
 HUSH MISCELLANY. 
 
 CAR LOW COLLEGE. 
 
 In an early numlicr -wo stated onr intention of giTine 
 jonic aci-ount of the various institutions of Ireland ; 
 and as a proof of it presented a view of Conglowes, 
 and promised a sketeh, which circumstanres have as 
 yet prevented from being fulfilled. In our future num- 
 bers we intend to give views and deictiptions of the 
 Protestant and Catholic foundations for the purposes 
 of education, as one of our great objects is to call the 
 •llcntion of the public to whatever has for its specific 
 purpose the tutoring of the human mind, and whatever 
 is calculated to raise the moral and intellectual charac 
 ler of our country. 
 
 Carlow college was founded by the late Rev. Dr 
 Kecfe, and was originally intended for the education 
 
 of youth; it was opened in the year 179.3 under the 
 direction of the lute Dean Staunton ; and in addition 
 to its primary object, it combines with it the education 
 of the Roman Cuthclic clergy. 
 
 The College is situated in the centre of the town of 
 Carlow, but is secluded from all bustle and noise, byi 
 high walls, which com])letelv surround it. The Col- 
 lege Park is spacious and delightful, T^ell planted, and, 
 as all college parks should, give space for healthy rec- 
 reation or calm retirement. 
 
 The building itself has been greatly improved and 
 enlarged, and tlie halls, apartments for study, dormi- 
 tories, &c., have been laid out on an extensive scale,; 
 and are arranged with a view to the accommodatioQof 
 
 one hundred pupils. The system of education com- 
 prises the Hebrew, Greek, Latin, Italian, French and 
 English languages; sacred and >rufanc history ; rhet- 
 oric; geograpliy ; arithmetic; book-keepii g ; and 
 mathematics. A society of clergymen, who arc mem- 
 bers of the house, devote themselves lo the various 
 literary departments, and we have no hesitation in 
 stating that their duties are discharged with ability 
 and zeal. 
 
 Carlow College has attained some celebriry from its 
 connection with the name of Du. Doti,e ; but as the 
 plan of our Journal excludes politics and polemics, 
 we can only say that all parties admit Dr. Doyle to be 
 a man of no ordinary mental powers. 
 
 A Lecture ON Thomas Davis. On the 19th of one of their countless conditions. He cited also, as' Motgan, the Rifleman. — Daniel Morgan was a 
 
 December an address was delivered before the Celtic' specimens of Davis's journalism, 'General Nott's Wagoner in the French and Indian war. He was once 
 Association of Svdnev, Australia, at their rooms, PittI Proclamation,' and ' The Political Office of the Irish insulted by a Uritish oflircr, and severely punished by 
 street bv D. H. Den'ichv, Esq., M. P. The subject Priest.' Remarks were here made upon Davis's another, for which lie vowed vengeance. At the be- 
 of the honorable gentleman's discourse was, ' The scholarship, and the philosophic.il steady eye with ginning of the Revolutionary war, he raised a compa- 
 Lesson of Thomas Davis's Life.' While criticisingi which he looked through the wreck and jarring chaos ny of riflemen, which he drilled to perfection, and 
 Thomas Davis as a journaliit, critic, biographer and, of Irish history, and saw steadily the fact, the warning, instructed in the keen, unfiiiling aim of the hack- 
 poet, Mr. Deniehy'smain point of view, and that which or the ground for hope, far in the centre of the per- woodsmen. At the battle of Saratoga, seeing the day 
 reall'v, he said, he only cared to descant upon, was thej plexing, mournful conflict of things. The fine spirit- was going against the Americans, by the reason of the 
 lesson afforded by a life of high moral beauty and: ual side ol Davis's character was then touched upon, extraordinary skill and energy of Gen. Frazer, with 
 
 ,^,jj (,( singleness of patriotic purpose— and a char-' It came out in exquisite gleams here and there in his his Scotch division, he resolved to resort lo the only 
 
 acter pure, whole and harmonious, evolving itself, essays and writings— present everywhere, but kept in mea.surc conceivable to arrest the tide of battle that 
 through all the dangers of political agitation. The check, as to full manifestations, by that hard practical threatened to overwhelm them. Summoning to his 
 honorable gentleman thought that Ireland should be combat in which he carried the sword of Tyrta;us. In presence the best marksman in his command, whose 
 prouder of having produced one type of the True Man,j his poems— even in his love-lyrics— ever the abiding aim was never known to fail, he said to him:— 
 Acting and Thinking, such as Thomas Davis, than of purpose of his life— that in which he ' lived and moved 'Murphy, do you sec that officer on the iron grey 
 any amount of mere literary genius— abundantly as' and had his being'— beams through, as the sUir burn- horse?' 
 
 she ahva.vs possessed that. He pointed out, though in j ing behind the white fleecy veil of some delicate cloud -yes, sir,, was the answer of the old soldier, 
 character both were different, Moore and Maginn, as of summer midnight. This was the evocation^ of a Morgan rejoined, with an almost faltertng voice, 
 instances of Irish genius without purpose, and having [Nation's spirit in the Irish people. In 'The Girl of 'Then do your duty.' Murphy ascended a tree, cut 
 little claims on mankind s.ive the successful practice! Bunbuidhe ' everywhere you perceived this. In ' The away the interlaced branches with his hatchet, (this 
 of literature under the conditions of art and art alone.| Br de of Mallow ' Mr. Deniehy said you caught sight, wiis a part of their variegated armor,) rested his rifle 
 
 of it gleaming beneath the myrtle — 
 
 ' Twns dyinR (hoy tliouRht her, 
 j\n<l kiiidl)- tiirj brouglit her 
 To the tallies ol lllackwnlPr, 
 
 Wheie Ucr forcfatl'frs lie.'— 
 
 Mr. Deniehy then proceeded to show the influences of 
 
 each a man as Davis on a national youth, and how his 
 
 daily lift — his acts and character — were a continual 
 
 homily to the young men of the time. It taught them 
 
 that lesson vouth, after its first shock on entering the; 
 
 world, and finding out how wide the kingdom of falsc-^ (' And mine, too,' said the honorable lecturer.) 
 
 hood is, so much need- Faith in Truth and God's 
 
 Design of Life. This was a teaching which only the 
 
 life and career of a man with Faith in him could give 
 
 The honorable gentleman spoke of Davis's ciiiical 
 
 powers — the fine genial enthusiasm, and the masculine 
 
 ' 'Twas ttie home of her childhood ; 
 Amlllity hoped tliatitswild wood 
 And air, soft and mild, would 
 Soothe her spirit to die. 
 
 The honorable gentleman concluded his lecture 
 
 I in a sure place, watched his opportunity, and as soon 
 as Gen. Eraser had, in his animated movements come 
 within practical range, Murphy fired, and the gallant 
 I general fell inortally wounded, being shot in the centre 
 1 of his body. That fill decided the day. The enemy 
 j soon gave way, and Saaratoga became immortal. 
 I But Morgan, the rough soldier, was a man of tender 
 j feelings, and he almost wept at the deed, and always 
 I said it troubled him, because it looked so much like a 
 ' kind of assassination of a brave and noble officer. 
 
 healthy taste which could toleraie no poetry but tliat amidst enthusiuitic applause. The chair was occupied^ 
 which presenting the human heart and soul under some] by the Vcuerable Archdeacon McEncore. 
 
 When is a soldier not a soldier? When he's in 
 quarters. 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 153 
 
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 'Ofpaly,' Phila. Under consideration. 
 
 'We know not the day nor the hour.' This poem, altho' 
 very creditable as a token of private friendship, is unsuited 
 to our pages. 
 
 'Song of the Irish Eapparee.' Received and shall ap- 
 pear. 
 
 'ALciPHonif.' TVe are much indebted for your kindness, 
 but your commimicatiou does not poesess sufficient interest. 
 
 'MowoKiA,' Jersey City. Received. It shall appear in 
 due course. Our poetic correspondents must have a little 
 patience; first come first served. 
 
 'Darby McKeon.' Your contributions are always wel- 
 come. They will appear in their turn. 
 
 'Gold,' Boston. You are right. The Irish gold discov- 
 ered in the mountains of Wicklow, was so very pure that 
 it was exchanged for the same weight of the current gold 
 coin of the realm. 
 
 'A MeiikIuishman.' Pittsburg. The 'English Pale' in 
 Ireland varied in extent, and was continually changing. 
 At one period it covered several districts or counties, or 
 parts of counties, in which English judges and English 
 sheriffs went circuit. It was confined principally for a 
 time to that part of the south nearest to Dublin, and at one 
 time covered very little more Irish soil than Dublin city 
 stood upon. The attacks of Art McMurrough and the oth- 
 er Irish chieftains frequently drove the English system un- 
 der the walls of Dublin. England owes her possession of 
 Ireland more to the dissensions of Irish chiefs, than to the 
 bravery of English soldiers. 
 
 'Charles McNalt,' Fall River, Mass. It is a matter of 
 opinion. Moore was the greatest bard of Ireland, but 
 some critics think the lamented Mangan his superior. 
 
 'Philadelphia, April 7, 1858. 
 To the Editors of the Irish Miscellany : 
 
 tlcmen, — Your paper, as far as my knowledge goes, is 
 a general favorite here; and if you continue in the course 
 you have so far pursued, will continue to be so. It is what 
 I have long wished to sec, and long been wanting among 
 the Irish people in this country— a good Irish paper— a pa- 
 per that will represent them not as a party, but as a nation ; 
 not as Catholics or Protestants, but as Irishmen. Could 
 you not give some biographical sketches of distinguished 
 Irishmen, with portraits, if possible? 
 Wishing you success in your enterprise, I am, 
 Yours truly, 
 
 John J. Dalt.' 
 We have made arrangements for complying with the sug- 
 gestion of our correspondent. He will find a biographical 
 sketch of Archbishop Usher in this number, and we have 
 able contributoi-s preparing piographical sketches of other 
 distinguished Irishmen expressly for the Miscellany, 
 
 Wecannot at present give you the information you de- 
 sire. The work is very scarce. 
 
 Indianapolis, la., April 6th, 1858. 
 Editors of the Irish Miscellany : 
 
 Gentlemen, — I am in receipt of the Irish Miscellany for 
 March 27th. I am well pleased with it as a work of art. It 
 brings many of the scenes of the land of our aflections 
 fresh to memory. In reading its well filled pages one fan- 
 cies himself in possession of that old favorite the 'Dublin 
 Penny Journal.' In point of typographical execution it is 
 a gem, and much praise is due to you for your laudable un- 
 dertaking. May you realize a reward in a pecuniary way, 
 commensurate with your exertions. I have no doubt but 
 that the Miscellany will be a favorite with the people. 
 Enclosed you will find Sr2,00 for this years' subscription, 
 ndyou will be particular in sending me all the back num- 
 ^s, as I wish to preserve and bind them, and I would not 
 ""i a number on any consideration. 
 
 cept the assurance of my kindest wishes fortheper- 
 petu., ^^^ success of the Irish Pictorial Miscellany.' 
 Yours truly and respectfully, 
 
 Michael Downey. 
 
 the machinations of theassassin, give glory to France and 
 
 perpetuate the Napoleonic dynasty, is by a war with that 
 besotted, treacherous and ungrateful nation. 
 
 The present aspect of the relations between these two na- 
 tions portends an outbreak of a serious character— one that 
 will shake Europe to its centre and alTect in its consequen- 
 ces the whole world. The alliance ostensibly existing be- 
 tween the two countries was, and is, unnatural. It is the 
 alliance of enemies, who for a season had pent up their 
 mutual hate, and the consequence is, it breaks out anew 
 with greater force and power. During the Crimean war, 
 the two armies detested each other. The hereditary enmity 
 of the nations was continually breaking out between them. 
 The glory of that contest belongs to France, whilst tho 
 military power and name of England proved to be a myth. 
 France saved England from the alTectionate hug of the Rus- 
 sian bear, and England in return shelters the assassins who 
 thirst for the blood of the French Emperor. 
 
 The press of the two nations have assumed the most bold 
 and defiant tone to each other. The Paris Patrie, says Eng- 
 land has lost the nursery of her army in the depopulation 
 of the highlands of Scotland; and emigration has driven 
 from Ireland the material which was England's right arm in 
 the time of war. D'Israeli boasts to his constituents that 
 England was never better prepared for war, and the press 
 of England, speaking the sentiments of its i)eople, hurls its 
 haughty defiance at the French nation. 
 
 France quietly bides her time, and makes the most active 
 preparations in her armories and her arsenals, England 
 puts her coast in a state of defence. -France orders out her 
 gun-boats. This state of things cannot last long and must 
 lead to a war. The news from Europe will he looked for by 
 every mail with anxiety, and the wars with China and In- 
 dia will loose their novelty. A contest between England 
 and France will be of great moment and probably draw 
 into its vortex all the other European powers. France has 
 memories to blot out, deep wrongs to avenge. The disgrace 
 oi Waterloo cannot be atoned for but in the blood oi the 
 Briton. The imprisonment at St. Helena, and the indigni- 
 ties of Hudson Low must be avenged. The wrongs of the 
 Uncle are bequeathed to the nephew, and he will hold Eng- 
 land to a terrible account for them. "What the consequen- 
 ces of such a contest may be to our own unfortunate coun- 
 try of Ireland, it is impossible to say; time only can de- 
 ■fermine; but we should remember that God helps those 
 only, who help themselves. 
 
 SUBSCRIPTIONS FOR THE DONEGAL 
 SUFFERERS. 
 
 M. J. "Walsh & Co., Proprietors of Miscellany, S?5.00 
 M. F. & P. C, New Haven, Conn., 2.00 
 
 iR^H MiSCELLANY. 
 
 BOSTON^^TUj^j)^Y^ APRIL l7, 1858 
 
 , seei.. 
 
 ENC 
 
 The alliance 
 the past few ye 
 sunder and the 
 nations since Waterloo, 
 entent r.ordinle. The assu 
 the imperial throne of Franc 
 the government of England !:;„"„,;;,:,),;',, 
 rebuke to the country, which hi» 
 and blood in the restoration of ti ,, 
 struction of the gigantic power wh. 
 
 eagle in triumph throughout Euro 
 and alliances to the sovereign pow 
 
 The position ofthe present ruler of F 
 His path is beset by assassins and 
 
 AND AND FRANCE. 
 
 between England and France for 
 
 to be in a fair way of breaking as- 
 
 ".lity between these two powerful 
 
 ^" kely to assume the place of the 
 
 ^'n by the present Kapoleon of 
 
 although acquiesced in by 
 
 as a severe 
 
 spent so much treasure 
 
 bons, and the de- 
 
 rried the French 
 
 BACK NUMBERS. 
 
 Having reprinted a large edition of the first number of 
 the Mfscf/ZoHy, we are now enabled to supply all the back 
 numbers of our paper to those desirous of obtaining them. 
 New subscribers will thus be enabled to have our paper 
 complete from the commencement. Those in want of No. 
 1, shonld order it immediately. 
 
 nd dictated treaties 
 ,^*he old world. 
 ;e is not enviable. 
 ,d by an excit- 
 
 able people who long for the glory which th^ , ,, ' 
 ^ ^ , . " f „ ''rstNapol' 
 
 shed upon their country, and pant fo- -" '^ 
 
 eon 
 tunity to 
 
 wipe out the di.fgruce inflicted upon her name 
 
 orable battle of Waterloo. It is to him, thercfcri 
 
 of self preservation; he must advance, or fall. 
 
 gives shelter to his enemies. Under the protciflon'i. ., + 
 
 country the conspiracies against his life are forned, anui 
 
 -„„* 1.' 7-., „.„... .1.. , «*^ e"C 
 
 \ matter 
 
 gland 
 
 AMUSEMENTS. 
 
 The various places of amusement have been well patron- 
 ized during the past week, and managers certainly can have 
 no occasion to complain of a lack of patronage, at lea^t if 
 we may judge from the crowds that nightly throng our 
 theatres. 
 
 At the Boston, Miss Agnes Robertson has been attracting 
 crowded .houses by her delineation of Jessie Brown, in 
 Bourcicaulfs drama of the Siege of Lucknow. The piece is 
 full of startling incidents, and we should have referred to 
 it more fully, but want of space prevents it. 
 
 At tho JIuseum, Manager Kimball has revived the spec- 
 tacle of Valentine aud Orson, with great success. Other 
 novelties are in preparation, and every one who attends thia 
 favorite resort will be sure of their money's worth. 
 
 The Howard has been doing the legitimate in superior 
 style, with its powerful 'combination.' We do not believe 
 there is another theatrical establishment in the country 
 where comedies can be put upon the stage so eflectivcly as 
 at the Howard. The management deserve the thanks and, 
 patronage ofthe public, for their pains-taking endeavors. 
 
 At the National, Mr. Thome has a well selected company, 
 and has produced several mclo-drama's in an unexception- 
 able manner. Success must assuredly crown his efforts, and 
 under his management there is no doubt but that the old 
 National will achieve its former glories. 
 
 *YE ANTIQUE BOOKE STORE,' 
 
 Mr. L. Burnham, formerly junior partner ot the firm of 
 tirnhum Brothers', may bo found at the old stand, 58 and 
 Cornhill, whore he still continues the sale of old and 
 ;w, rare and curious works of literature — at prices which 
 ot fail of inducing purchasers. Any questions in refer- 
 „ , , „_ p — to literary matters will be most cheerfully answered by 
 
 balls ofthe ns.sassma arc cast. Irom LnglnncLe l,as mo„ Ifr. Burnham and bU courteous clerk., and purcl.asc-rbwill 
 to tear than from the league agamstlnm ol II the other ', t. well to examiuc his large and varied stock iu all hrauclies 
 powers of Europe, and the only way he can hpc to escape oJiiterature, before making their selections. 
 
154 
 
 liaSU .MISCELLANY. 
 
 Wriltcii lortlio Misccllttny. 
 THE SONCS OF OLD ERIN. 
 
 BY r. K. lIlfiiKV. 
 
 I paswd to a well, 'iicalli llic ulindo of a treo 
 
 M'lilch >xuritA otrttic urii'Ut U'ttiii, 
 From i(0 wiitvn) thnt ripplu uUown to the sua 
 111 n lambi-nlond silvery ^tn>HIIl; 
 lIJ9tciii'd und heard ill sweet iiieludy ring, 
 The voice, oh: the voice ol' llie iiyiiipli ul Hint spring 
 As iilic SUUR the eweet sougs ol' old Kriii. 
 
 I paMied to ■ cItIT which loomed liigli o'er the wood 
 
 Loomed up mid the clouds ol' the kky, 
 Aud there amid turrets so lonely it stood, 
 As it proud ol' its station ou high, 
 I listened, and oh! how my soul did instil 
 The voice, oh! the voice of the sjirite on that hill. 
 As liu sung the sad songs of old Erin. 
 
 1 passed to a valley with beauty o'crladon, 
 
 Like Daphne's luxurious grove, 
 'n'ith the blushes and smiles of a radiout maidca 
 M'hose heart's iu the circlet ol love; 
 I listened, and oh! what a choir of sweet flowers 
 Chimed in as 1 passed round the valleys chtisle bowers, 
 Aud sung the love songs of old Erin. 
 
 I passed to a gorge In the wild granite mountain, 
 
 And gazed upon changes sublime; 
 And oh! of redeolion tllo.<e scenes what a fountain. 
 And oh! what a Vulcan is time; 
 I mused, but as buck from the clifl'I was creeping 
 Down through the gorge a bald eagle came sweeping, 
 And OCtid thesnn;;* i>( ulil Klin. 
 
 CORRESPONDENCE. 
 
 DUBUJJ, Maiich 19, 1858. 
 
 Dublin lia.s been the scene of serious riot since my 
 last, occasioned by the ' entree ' of Lord Eglintoun, the 
 newly appointed Lord Lieutenant of Jreland. The 
 riot, however, was not caused by the people, but by 
 tliose pinks of perfection, the Orange students of 
 Trinity College. 
 
 The mutter in brief was this : — Just before the mo- 
 tion of Milner Gibson in the House of Commons, 
 which scaled the fate of the late inini.'^tiy. Lord Pal- 
 nierston met a deputation from the Irish Orange-menj 
 in which, after hearing all the delegates had to say in 
 behalf of their pet society, he gave them to under- 
 stand that he was no Orange-man, and that he detest- 
 ed all such intolerant institutions. Indeed, no prime 
 minister ever before dared to snub, so effectually, these 
 rampant and blood-thirsty bigots, he sent the Orange 
 delegates home with a flea in their cars. The result, 
 as a matter of course was, that the ascendancy faction 
 were mad with Falincrstun, and his defeat cunie in the 
 very nick of time to enable tbem to rejoice at his 
 downfall. 
 
 Lord Eglintoun, of toumnmcnt notoriety, entered 
 Publio on the 1,3th inst., as the successor of the Earl 
 of Carlisle, and all Orungcdoin was rampant with en- 
 thusiasm at the advent of one whom they believed was 
 the representative of the exclusive and intolerant 
 principles of this infamous party. The stndents of 
 Trinity College, front whom of late we had hoped 
 better things, assembled ' en masse ' in the area behind 
 the pallisades which enclose the old Alma Jlaier. 
 Here they gave expression to the most indecent and 
 insulting language against the police, which was borne 
 by that body with great patience. Not content with 
 this license, they at length assailed the police with mis- 
 siles of various kinds, such as rotten apples, eggs, 
 stones, &c. The conduct of the students at length be- 
 came unbearable, and Col. Browne, of the constabu- 
 lar)' force, ordered the police to clear the area. The 
 mounted police rode in upon the gownsmen, and using 
 the flat of their swords, stretched many of the sons of 
 old Trinity on their backs in the mud. 
 
 The students expected this ami were prepared for it. 
 The police were assailed in return with huge bludgeons, 
 wielded with much power and skill in the list of many 
 o strapping fellow, and the foot police had to go to the 
 aid of their mounted brethren. This decided the fate 
 of the fight — the students retreated in double quick 
 time, many of them witli battered faces aud broken 
 beads. 
 
 This is the first cbulitioa of Orangeisra nnder the 
 
 now regime. You necdnot be surpi'ised to find the ; recent change in the adminintration and the duty of 
 example iinitalcd cUewhore. ' the people consequent thereon. He promises another 
 
 The most extriiordiimry part of the alVair is that it address upon the same subject in which ho will give 
 was foretold in tiio FitEKMAS's JoiiUNAL, yet the au- an enumeration of such measures as upi>ear to him 
 thorities did not take the necessary stops to prevent it. to deserve imiiicdiutc uilention. 
 
 True, a largo body of police was posted near the col- : The news from India is of an uncertain cliaractcr. 
 lege, but why was not the faculty made acqiiuinted , Owing to the loss of the mails on board the Calcutta 
 with the intended riot, and measures taken by the heads steamer, wrecked ofl" Trinacomalee, in tho island of 
 of the college to prevent the disgraceful proceedings Ceylon, we have to glean our intelligence from tlir 
 of tho students ! The Mail aud KuiiEMAN are baud government telegram. At last advice, Lucknow hM 
 in hand denouncing the attack upon these ' boys ' by not bacn attacked. Sir Colin Campliell was still wo*- 
 the police. Now many of these ' boys ' are big, strop- ing for his siege train and the people of Lucknow wro 
 ping fellows, who could take a fall out of most men at i well prepared to receive him. It is said iha' ll'O 
 ' collar and elbow,' and few Tijiperary men could hull- I Sepoys Imvo changed their tactics, und, insfd of 
 dlo a lilackllioin better, or with more native grace, as j meeting the disciplined troops of England i 'nfKO 
 numbers of the Dublin Tolicc know to their cost, j hattles, will adopt the 'guerilla' mode of 'arlare. 
 
 Dr. Gray, of tho Fheiiman's JotatNAi., is tho fa- i This is their best course. By this nieani*hey can 
 thor of one of these ' boys,' and it is said this hopeful I barrass tho British troops from the sumr't" "f 'ho 
 was one of the most active in this Orange row. I do j hills and mountains— in tho ravines ami ior^ct nnd 
 not bold the father responsible for tho son's conduct, j thus by fatigue and exhaustion conse(|uc' "P"" long 
 unless he endorses it. This, Gray has done, in his at- I marches in an enemies' country, under hunting sun 
 tacks in the Fueksian on the police, thus showing that | destroy all troops sent against them, 
 he approves of the conduct of tho Orange bigots of Mr. John Doncgan, the celebrafJ goldsmith of 
 
 Trinity College. 
 
 We Catholics of Ireland are a very simple people. 
 Only think of it. Dr. Gray, a well-known Protestant, 
 publishes and edits a newspaper, which presumes to 
 bo ' par excellence,' the organ of the Catholics of Ire- 
 land ! Is it not strange that we should stand in need 
 of such an organ or require such a defender ? I sub- 
 mit that no man can be honest who supports a faith 
 dctfcrcnt to that which he himself professes. What 
 would we think of a Catholic who would publish and 
 edit a newspaper as the organ of the Protestant Church 
 iu Irelncd 1 What should we think of a Protestant 
 who supports a creed in which he does not believe .' 
 
 If the row at Trinity College will open the eyes of 
 my fcllow-counlrymen to the true nature of this Pro- 
 testant advocacy of Catholicity, then I would be dis- 
 posed to plaster all the broken heads of students and 
 police, free, gratis, fcr nothing ! 
 
 The ostensibly friendly feeling hitherto existing be- 
 tween England and France is in a fiiir way of being 
 destroyed. There are strange murmurs and loud 
 rumblings heard in the distance, which portend an 
 outburst of an extraordinary character. The journals 
 of England, which, during the Crimean war, bespat- 
 tered Napoleon with llie most fulsome praise, have 
 now discovered that he owes every thing to England, 
 
 Dublin, recently presented to Fatho- Conway a splen- 
 did gold watch und chain, as a ina< of '»» esteem for 
 the persecuted priest. He has a'" j"*' jirosented to 
 the College of INIaynooth a ms"i*>''<^''t sot of altar 
 plate worked in the most supc" ^0'''^ of "rt. 
 
 The grand jury of Doneg; ''"ve returned bills of 
 indictment against twelve o'^^'^ Poor fellows charged 
 with stealing or destroying'"^ sheep of the English 
 and Scotch graziers, aud '"''On Pennefather refuies to 
 take bail for their apperanfc- In his charge to the 
 grand jury the judge tr"^ occasion to send forth some 
 of his ancient bile .i'"''st the clergy of tho district. 
 I did hope such exb-'t'ons of party spleen had disap- 
 peared from the bc'^''' I'"' so long as the people of 
 Ireland are dead ' ''"^ principles of nationality, wo 
 cannot expect b'^'' ''■'"5* f™"^ judges promoted to 
 their official pf'''0" 'or their enmity to the best inter- 
 ests of their ■■''^''^ land. Shall we always bear the 
 curse of Ep''^'' government upon us » 
 
 AvOXMOBE. 
 
 g^.Q.sn Sepovis.1i. — The Univers (Paris) has the 
 follo\-'*5 "■'tiele on the atrocities perpetrated on tlie 
 j;n,.sh soldiery: 'In London the English, through the 
 ,^,ium of the press, issue their lessons of humanity to 
 „ the nations of Europe; in India they give lessons 
 f fiendish cruelty, altogether at variance with tlieir 
 for tho position ho occupies, and, that after all, he is theory, .shooting down en m.i.ssc, one hundred and 
 
 no better than be should be. Jeers and taunts and ir 
 suits are Hung at tlio French Emperor by the Bril" 
 press, as if to drive him into vengeance. So tru " 
 that ' those whom God wishes to destroy ho firs '"^''' 
 mad.' If the madness and rage of the organs K^K' 
 lish opinion portend the destruction of Engl'"' ""^ 
 praise and glory bo to God ! England's cr '^ '""' 
 almost to overflowing, and welcome to '"^^ Irish 
 heart will be the hour of her retribution. 
 
 England boasts .she was never bette l"''^!""'™ ""' 
 war, yet it was never more diflicult tr'''"'"" recruits 
 for her army. Tho JIositiedr, " "'"f?"" "f ''^'^ 
 French Government, says Englan'"^ '°^' ''"^ nursery 
 ground of her army in permitti' "'" C-^termination 
 of the Irish and Scotch pcsam • '^''•^ '« good. It 
 shows that France knows wl'^ ""= strength of Eng- 
 land lies. The naval vard^*" ^™"™ "'"^ '"'^*■ with 
 preparation. Large nun- " °'' 6"" boats are to be 
 got ready for sea witho- '''=■"?• ^'^'^'"'^ '"" '•>«»« g"" 
 boats for ! France saV°'" ''"^ ^"'''^ Chi-m. 'Fudge !' 
 You will recollect tl'''"= £""' Napoleon proposed 
 to bridge the watc'''"" '^"''"-" '" ^^"^^ "''•' fe'"" 
 boats, as the mo?'''^'*'''''' P'"" °^ evading England. 
 Will the nop!'' ■'"^'''''■^ ••'"' of which the uncle 
 dreamed ? """ "''" '^"- ^''"^ ""' fi™' Napoleon 
 made a des '" "''"" !'■<>'»"''. instead of going to Rus- 
 sia, the dr*' which eventually overlook him might 
 
 fifty rebels, the cavalry slaying with the saber the 
 wretched survivors! These are amongst the latest 
 accounts from Calcutta; and we must go back to tho 
 massacres of Biottcaux and Lyons, during tho reign 
 of terror, to lind similar examples of such barbarous 
 executions. But we need not travel to India to find 
 the blood stains under the mantle of political philan- 
 thropy with which England enshrouds herself. This 
 nation, who finds it atrocious to whip ^le negroes of 
 the Antilles, or to strike the galley-slaves at Naples, 
 deems it lawful and right to Hog her soldiers in bar- 
 racks; and for this degrading punishment she does not 
 make use of an honest leather whip, which would in- 
 flict strokes sufficiently painful — oh, no — philantbrojiic 
 England hos transformed this severe punishment into 
 I a torture, by inventing a frightful instrument called a 
 j 'cut o' nine tails." Each one of the tails of this diabol- 
 cal instrument is armed with nine pieces of sharp 
 edged iron, so that a single stroke inliicts cighly-ono 
 wounds on the unfortunate victim. The law of Eng- 
 land, which shields and protects the refugee political 
 assassin, permits a maximum of fifty strokes of thin 
 terrible whip to be given to a faithful soldier, who has 
 perhaps, shed his blood in more than one battle for his 
 ungrateful country. An execution took place on the 
 4th of February, in the town o' Newcastle. The I^on- 
 , - . . don Star descrilws the event. Had we ventured to 
 
 have b;r av;rted. It is to be hoped that the present express the same opinions as the Star, we would have 
 Emne-'' °^ f™"™ has gained wisdom from the sad i been accused of exaggeration and Anglophobia. Let 
 lessr' of himwho shook Europe to its centre 
 
 jmith O'lHcn has published a mild, dignified and 
 well written ddrcss to the people of Ireland, upon the 
 
 us leave the English to.wash their blood stained gar- 
 ments among themselves, and let us piiy the nation 
 which only jiracticcs its boasted philunlhropy aa an 
 instrument of external policy.' 
 
IRISn MISCELLANY. 
 
 155 
 
 LITERATURE. 
 
 [Frcim 'I,ocliires mul Essays,' by Henry Giles.] 
 SAVACE AND DERMODV. 
 
 Savage is coimuonly cunncotcd with Chattcrton, 
 but except in the accident of their poverty, I could 
 never, for my own part, find out any resemblance. 
 As a man, Chatterton was of austere demeanor, 
 and as a poet he was of the highest powers; but 
 Savage as a man was extremely social, and as a 
 poet was not greatly beyond mediocrity. Chatter- 
 ton died rather than ask relief: Savage did not, in- 
 deed solicit relief, he commanded it. All beings, 
 howOTcr, have their use in God's creation. Savage 
 has had his. lie has been made an occasion for a 
 piece of most beautiful and eloquent composition. 
 Some meri owe their fame to being the subject of a 
 great biographer; .-ind others to being the biogra- 
 phers of great subjects. Boswcll has become fa- 
 mous in his Life of Johnson; and Savage has gain- 
 ed celebrity by the finely written record which has 
 been left of him by Johnson. Nothing is more evi- 
 dent in this composition than the fact, that the feel- 
 ings of private friendship and a remembrance of 
 common misfortune broke the scourge of criticism. 
 The poems of Savage may have merit; but they as- 
 suredly have not that merit which could propitiate 
 the maligncr of Milton and the depredator of Gray. 
 Savage was the outcast of society, and Johnson, 
 with the rough benignity of his nature, took him 
 to his heart; precisely on a principle similar to that 
 which caused him to carry a sick and unfortunate 
 girl, through Fleet street, to a refuge. 
 
 'The AVanderer' of Savage is a very remarkable 
 production; the more remarkable when we consider 
 the circumstances in which it was composed. Stan- 
 zas of it were often written upon cobblers' stalls, 
 and sometimes whole passages were indited in a 
 pauper lodging. One special quality of the poem 
 is the extreme purity and moral elevation of sen- 
 timent, contrasted with his own practical conduct. 
 The following lines are worthy of notice because 
 Dr. Johnson quotes them: 
 
 'Toflyall public care all venal strife, 
 To try the still compared with active life; 
 To prove bv these, the sons of men may owe 
 The fruits of bliss to bursting clouds of woe; 
 That even calamity, by thought refined, 
 Inspirits and adorns the thinking mind.' 
 And again: 
 
 'By woCj the soul to daring action swells, 
 
 By woe in plaintless patience it excels; 
 
 From patience, prudent, clear expei-ience springs. 
 
 And traces knowledge through the course ot'things; 
 
 Thence hope is formed; thence, fortitude, success, 
 
 Kenown; wliate'er meu covet or possess.' 
 
 'The Bastard,' another poem of his, is eulogized by 
 the same stern critic. On tlie first publication it 
 create 1 a mighty rout. His unnatural mother, who 
 puliliihcd her own shame, and detested with a kind of 
 hcIUsh madness the poor wretch who sprung from that 
 shame, was scared by it wherever she went ; it was 
 before her everywhere, as a sentence of terror and 
 damnaiion. It was quoted in her hearing, it was left 
 open for her reading; and the young man whom she 
 first rejected, and then tried to hang, became lier own 
 moral executioner. The following lines have always 
 affected me; tliey touch a chord of sorrow, most musi- 
 cal and most melancholy: 
 
 'Xo mother's care 
 Sliielfled my infant innocence with praver; 
 >'o fnlher's guaiilian hand my youtli maintained, 
 T'alled forth my virtues or from vice restrained.' 
 
 If Johnson's estimate of Savage is an error, it is an 
 error on the right side. It may be indulgent, hut the 
 nnforiunnte require indult:ence. It may be merciful, 
 but it is the criminal who lutve need of mercy. In 
 some of his criticisms, Johnson has been nefariously 
 tinjnst; but his charity, in the 'Life of Savage,' covers 
 a multitude of sins. 'For his life or his writings,' he 
 says, 'none who conjider his fortune will think an 
 apology either necessary or difficult. If he was not 
 always sufficiently instructed in his subject, his knowl- 
 edge was at least greater than could have been obtained 
 by others in the same slate. If his woiks were somc- 
 limcB unfinshed, accuracy cannot reasonably be ex- 
 
 pected from a man oppressed with want, which he has 
 no hope of relieving, but by speedy publication. The 
 insolence and resentment of which he is accused, were 
 not easily to be avoided by a great mind irritated by 
 perpetual hardships, and constrained hourly to return 
 the spurns of contempt, and repress the insolence of 
 prosperity; and vanity m.iy surely be readily pardoned 
 in him to whom life afforded no other comfort than 
 barren praises and the consciousness of deserving 
 them.' One of his latest and greatest faults, was that 
 of keeping the Bristol merchants out of their comfort- 
 able beds with most eloquent and glorious talking ; 
 hut the sin was surely not so grave, that for a mere 
 trifle he shbuld be left to die in a Bristol goal. 
 
 Similar to S.avage in some respects, different in 
 others, was the Irish versifier, Uermody. lie was one 
 of those precocious spirits that at first excite astonish- 
 ment, that arc praised and puffed and glorified, that 
 disappoint those who patronize them, that are idolized 
 by those who bring them forward to forsake them, that 
 are wondered at for a while and deserted forever. 
 Dermody as a boy was marvellous; Derraody as a 
 man was nothing. His life was written by a good-na- 
 tured person of the name of Raymond, who, with a 
 benevolent generosity that does him honor, often re- 
 lieved his sufferiogs and allayed his hunger. I speak 
 now of general recollectioBS and impressions, which 
 the reading of that life has left upon my mind. Der- 
 mody was an Irishman, and, as well as I can remem- 
 ber, he was the son of a drunken schoolmaster in Clare 
 or Kerry. This schoolmaster did not treat his son 
 well, but if he gave him scanty food, he crammed him 
 plentifully with Greek and Latin. He was put into 
 the Latin Accidence when he was but four years of 
 age, and he ran away from his father when he was 
 scarcely eleven. He accompanied a carrier to Dublin, 
 and in the city's mass, he lost his conductor. He was 
 found at a book-stall, reading Greek authors with a 
 fixed'interest, a queer compound of the careless boy 
 and the well trained scholar. He was first employed 
 by an old man who sold second-hand books in a cellar, 
 to indoctrinate his son in Latin. Dermody was then 
 promoted to a shop above ground, to sell books to the 
 students of the University, and to criticize them as he 
 sold. From this he was taken by the pedantic and 
 wealthy; handed about from party to party, as the 
 newest prodigy; taught to drink much and to sit long, 
 and when at last incorrigible in the vices into which 
 his patrons had initiated him, he was turned adrift 
 upon the world. Merit sometimes droops and dies for 
 the want of encouragement, but this was not the case 
 with Dermody. Lady Moira, wlien he was utterly 
 deserted, held out to him a most generous attention. 
 She placed him with an able man to complete his edu- 
 cation. Dermody, instead of minding his studies, 
 dwindled his time away in the village tavern — and in 
 writing verses on the village tailor and tlie village 
 barber. The lady patroness at last disgusted, dis- 
 missed him, with a small sum of donotion and a great 
 deal of advice. Subsequently, he procured an ensign's 
 commission, and, to his honor it must be said, that in 
 war he conducted himself with the bravery of a sol- 
 dier, and in peace with the propriety of a gentleman. 
 Having sold his commission, he was again thrown on 
 the world, and after some alternations of poverty and 
 extravagance, ho closed his career in a solitary hut in 
 England. Two friends found him here in a dying 
 state. 'He had scarce power left,' his biographer says, 
 'to express the grateful sentiments which their visit 
 inspired. The words faltered on his parched lijjs; his 
 eyes became filled with tears, and being unable to 
 utter the strong feelings wliich labored in his breast, 
 he suidt again into tlic melancholy position in which 
 they had discovered him, and continued silent for a 
 considerable lime.' 
 
 The deserted appearance of the house, better c.ilcii- 
 latcd, indeed, for the retreat of rol)bers than the abode 
 of a dying person, gave his situation the last touches 
 of tragic misery. 'Thank God,' he exclaimed, for this 
 friendly visit; I thought I bad given the whole world, 
 and yon in particular, cause to forget me.' The 
 caution was needless; his past sins were buried in the 
 
 recollection of present wretchedness, and he had little 
 to dread from the chidings of those who had now to 
 perform only the last few offices of friendship. When 
 his disorder allowed him to enter for a moment into 
 convcrfalion, he assumed a sjiirit, which, tliough faint, 
 was yet mingled with the eccentricity that had on 
 almost every occasion marked his character, and which 
 was equally observable on trivial as on important 
 matters. A violent fit of coughing having attacked 
 him — 'That hollow cough,' said he, 'rings out my 
 knell.' The comforts which his situation required and 
 admitted, were procured for him. His two friends 
 had arranged for him a pleasant lodging on the most 
 delightfid part of Sydenham Common; whither, with 
 a careful nurse, he w.is to be removed on the following 
 day. Money was given for all his immediate wants, 
 and his bencfVictors, intending to call the next morning, 
 had hoped for him some declining hours of calm trans- 
 ition to the grave. That same evening, however, Der- 
 mody expired, when he was twenty-seven years and 
 six months of age. 
 
 Anecdotes are told of Dermody which possess con- 
 siderable interest. Many of these are wonderful, and 
 some of them are truly afFectlng. While a mere lad 
 he translated a great part of Anacreon, wiih a fidelity 
 that satisfied the austercst scholars, and with a fervor 
 that might have been responded to by the warmest 
 poet. Yet this youth of brilliant .ibilities by a thought- 
 less extravagance, subjected himself to the necessity of 
 begging subscriptions for his poems, and to the humil- 
 iation of being dismissed from the doors of those from 
 whom he supplicated assistance. He has been found, 
 at times, exhausted in a garret, weary from hopeles^ 
 excursions, and his bleeding feet lacerated to the bone. 
 A story is recorded of him which merits repetition for 
 its extreme beauty. The first night on which he had 
 left his father, he walked until he was weary. He then 
 cast his eye around him for some hut, where he might 
 have a chance of rest. Saeing a light a little distance 
 off, he made for it. On entering a miserable dwell- 
 ing he beheld a corpse on some shapeless boards, with 
 a lone and h.aggard woman leaning over it. He had 
 but two shillings in his pocket, he gave the poor 
 woman one; he went a short distance onward, re- 
 pented, returned and gave her the other. Stopping 
 for a while at an old church, as he continued his jour- 
 ney, he composed a poem, of which the following 
 verses are a portion: 
 
 ' tlie jmle grass struggles with each wind, 
 .itli lurms, the turf uiibeded lies; 
 iilthut sleeps, in ease reclined. 
 
 oul< folds his modest eyes. 
 The nun mure chaste than bolted snow 
 Mingles with the dust below. 
 Nor cnpi-icioiis turns away ; 
 Lo! to the taper's tremulous ray, 
 M'hite veiled shades their frames disclose, 
 A^ests of lilly, cheeks of rose; 
 In dim fancy's vision seeu 
 Alive, awake, they rush between.' 
 
 The poera closes with such sweet and solemn 
 
 verses as these : 
 
 'Near pebbled beds, wbei-e rivulets play, 
 And linger in the beams of day ; 
 'Mid sods by kneeling martyr's worn, 
 Embrowned with many a horrid thorn; 
 
 Wontthe solemn bell to flow 
 In silver notes, prolonging slow, 
 Tides of matchless melody. 
 
 Yes. let them slumber here at lost, 
 1 heir tyrarniies — Ilieir sufferings past, 
 And lend a venerable dread 
 To the lone abbey's rocking head.' 
 
 The manner in which he sometimes describes his 
 
 condition, is at once amusing and airccting. Here 
 
 is an instance: 
 
 'In a cold emptv garret, eonlented I sit, 
 With no sparli.s'lo warm me but ,-paiks of old wit: 
 (In a CKizv Muck ^t.HJl, ildliMiil ilittii- I .'ing, 
 A. Ill iii.cr'as a heggar, iuii I.N^I lis a king. 
 
 Then whvshiMild rii,i\ llic ^m; Ik.Mind piond. 
 
 Since <,ii'd hasfji.. ' i. N: i I < h.i.k lii.lii I he crowd? 
 
 ilvpenismvnM ' '' : '^i. my crown. 
 Ail circled with I "■■■'■ ' ' 
 
 i.k, 
 
 I'-or lo; like all kings 1 can fpill Hods of— ink; 
 Fight armies of mice, tear huge spiders at will. 
 And murder whole lleets with the point of my quill!' 
 
 A reference to Otway, Chatterton and Savage, is 
 
 not ungraceful: 
 
 '.Sweet as the shepherd's pipe, my Otway sun^, 
 And pity rnelled on hissuotliing tongue. 
 Vet, mark his need, too dreadful to bo told. 
 
156 
 
 IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 DcBth clad In Morn. In penury, Bnil cold, 
 111. uii-.k, luiplorhiK oi'». fon-vcr olosc, 
 11,. .M„-.i.loiir.pi"'r|"irlniTol lUi. woos. 
 .s«i. 1 t luiriirloii. |iroU'»N'<l In eiirly prime, 
 1 'I. -I..1H-.I i«ih.-ol nubli'st vi-rso to cliuil., 
 11, ul,.MVM'i'''iif'l. illu^lrio^lsly died, 
 Ami ii.Miil lliiNCun-l ii>itomi- ol prido. 
 li:-l»t»«l Mtvngf! what cunid nuuihooil bear 
 OI criii'l «.int, or ajjony wvore- 
 or piUioiit oiiru, timi ^prlng« u Mient mine, 
 Wiml could it sutTcr— what tlmt was not tlilne?' 
 
 And thus he most pathetically speaks of Itim- 
 eclf: 
 
 'Mo, liaplcM Toulh, the ftiry-troublcs tear, 
 Ml' IVoni lhi< Mu»c»' ronv bosom wi'un : 
 luin !.|rfnnu mv glance oVr -nrroHsdnniry scene 
 liurk to my flijlit l'iirnus»iun cluiini.^ iipi>oiirl 
 liiiniii .Midi bold ardor, lucli inlliii.-iu>t lire, 
 S,ol-w.,liiliK o',T niv so.ik- .ill pin-ivi. l.iid, 
 l)r,l,.i|.|.lyro,i-id.r..m k.,l,:„,i,-...r,vo.; 
 Still, In li.'i\ l,.jni. ni..r.- Ii-rill.li', ilisnmvcd, 
 lliirjIi-iiiUnn.l p.iilli v .in. I ciir,'~ c.n.bimvl, 
 TcariuKWithtigiT-liinc my tortiirid niilul.' 
 
 Wc close thoie desultory scraps from one who 
 longed for fame but lived for folly, with a short 
 poem entitled an 'Ode to Frenzy:' 
 
 'Slabbed by the murderous arts of men, 
 Mv h.iiit still opd with many a wound, 
 
 I p„iirlli.ug..nizinB strain. 
 An.l lii'iv till'.' with deliriums round: 
 
 Thv clioic-'.t lurtaresnow prepare; 
 
 1-reuzy'. free me from despair! 
 
 Thv visionary darkness shrouds 
 The tender bruin in raylessclouds; 
 Thy slow and subtle poison steals 
 Till abdicated reason reels — 
 Then rising wild in moody trance 
 (juick, thy pale visuRcd lieuds advance. 
 
 I bum, I throb, my pulses beot, 
 
 I leel thv ranklhiR sorrows now, 
 
 They tremble in mv bleeding brow — 
 And pierce reicctionin bis filmy scat; 
 
 In lieifjhls of pain my heart is tossed 
 
 And all the meaner sorrows lost. 
 
 ATho now will fear the puny sting of woe? 
 Who start, disordcd, at the phantom Death? 
 
 1 mock the childish tears that trickliup flow, 
 I smile at pangs, my softest pane beneath; 
 
 The canker grief that silent eats, he thine— 
 The noble ecstasy— be mine. 
 
 The hurried slop — the pregnant pause .severe — 
 
 The spectred flash of sense— the hideous smile — 
 The frozen stare— Uevengc's thrilling tear— 
 The nwftil start, sharp look, and mischiefs .«ecret wile; 
 These arc the proud demoniac marks 1 claim, 
 Since grief and feeling are the same; 
 Then all thy racks sublime prepare. 
 And free me— Frenzy, from Uespairl' 
 
 [From Tales ol the Olden Time.] 
 
 CASTLE ROCHE. 
 A L K O E N D OF LOUTH. 
 
 [Continued.] 
 
 The artful chamberlain bowed low in submission to 
 his sovereign's behest, and, with well-feigned reluc- 
 tance, proceeded to obey him. 
 
 ' If my gracious licgc finds aught that may displease 
 him in what I am about to say, he must deign to recol- 
 lect that I gave him most unwillingly the explanation 
 he desires.' 
 
 ' I shall recollect whatever thou pleasest— but hasten 
 with thy recital ! I am all impatience !' 
 
 ' Has my Sovereign never observed any peculiarity 
 of dress about the Lady Christina '.' 
 
 ' Certainly not !' 
 
 • Uast thou ever seen her head nncovertid V 
 
 The king paused a momant as if in recollection — 
 ' No, I cannot say that 1 did ! But what has this to 
 do witli thy tale '.' 
 
 • Everything, my licgc !' replied the minister. ' Men 
 gav, with what truth I know not, that the noble lady 
 must be alllicted with some strange disease of the liead, 
 and they draw this inference from the fact, that no 
 creature hath ever seen her hair — it is believed by some 
 that nature hath denied to her that beautiful orna- 
 ment !' 
 
 A thrill of horror shot through the heart uf the mon- 
 arch. A startling suspicion crossed liis mind that the 
 report might be true, since ho could not but acknowl- 
 edge that he himself had never seen Christina without 
 a close cap, which entirely concealed her hair, if hair 
 she had. Resolved, nevertheless, to conceal his sus- 
 picion, until he had carefully examined the matter, he 
 gave the chamberlain to understand that he gave the 
 tale no credit — that he considered it as little better than 
 a malicious fabrication, to injure his beloved Christina, 
 and that he would have the mystery saiisfaclorily ex- 
 plained by her own lips. 
 
 The mioiitcr appeared to coincide in his master's | 
 opinion, ami took his leave, nfier having expressed his 
 hope that all was as it should lie, and that the often i 
 repeated story would be found entirely groundless. 
 
 No sooner bad the nobleman taken his departure 
 than Christian delivered himself to llio most acute an- 
 guish, lie endeavored to view the subject dispassion- j 
 aiely, but tlie ellbrt was vain. | 
 
 At length, unable to bear the agony of his mind, ho 
 proeeeilcd to the apartments of Christina. The latter 
 arose to greet his coming with her usual bright smile 
 of welcome. Such a smile was wont to have a heat- 
 ing power on the heart of the monarch, when, wearied I 
 with the turmoil and intrigue of the court and council, 
 ho sought her presence as an antidote for all ill — but i 
 now all was changed ! [ 
 
 • A lair good morning to my gracious sovereign !' 
 said Christina, advancing to take his hand. 
 
 A glance at her closely-covered head served to de- 
 stroy the genial inlluenceof her tenderness. Knowing, 
 however, that fair means was the most likely to be 
 successful in obtaining the desired explanation, ho took 
 the proffered hand, and pressed it to his lips. 
 
 ' Christina, my love !' he began, ' I have a favor to 
 ask of thee ! — wilt thou grant it V 
 
 ' AVhy docs my lord ask snch a question 1 Ho should 
 know all too well that his devoted Cbrrstina can re- 
 fuse him nothing in her power to bestow ! What would 'st 
 thou of me !' 
 
 ' The favor is a trilling one, sweetest Christina ! but 
 yet I know not how to ask it of thee. I merely have 
 to request that thou would'st throw off, even for a 
 moment, in my presence, the head-dress which thou 
 wearest I' 
 
 A dead pause followed. The king was so overcome 
 by shame that he almost regretted having mentioned 
 the affair, and Christina was, on her part, so utterly 
 confounded by tlie shock she had received, that for 
 some minutes her tongue clave to the roofof her mouth, 
 so that she could not articulate a word. 
 
 After some time her feelings burst forth in an hys- 
 terical laugh : 
 
 ' Uncover my head ! why aye ! that were favor to 
 be sought after ! — And, pr.iy, most royal Christian, 
 when did'st ihou conceive such a wish, as that of be- 
 holding my head. Thou answere.'it not ! thou art 
 stricken dumb. But I see how it is — I see the trail of 
 the serpent. Thy courtiers, finding that thy love for 
 the hapless Christina was a bar of adamant between 
 them and the completion of their politic wishes — un- 
 able to discover any breach of fidelity to thee, they 
 have taken advantage of this my peculiarity, to excite 
 thy distrust I Say is it not so V 
 
 ' Thou hast guessed aright, my beloved Christina,' 
 said the monarch. ' But thou hast called this unlucky 
 affair a ' peculiarity ' — am I then to hope that it is on- 
 ly such, and that there is no existing cause for the 
 conce;ilmcnt of which they have spoken ( Dearest and 
 loveliest ! consent but to oblige me in this one partic 
 ular, that 1 may have it in my power to refute the odious 
 calumny !' 
 
 As the king spoke thus, Christina drew herself up to 
 her full height, and her eyes flashed with anger and 
 disdain. 
 
 'Consent! saycst thou?' she asked, in tones of indig- 
 nant contemjjt. Consent to gratify thy curiosity — to 
 lull thv suspicions, and ihose of thy courtiers? Ko! 
 rather would I consent to die a death of agony! 
 Christian of Denmark! thou little knowest the woman 
 thou hast dared to insult. Now hear my determina- 
 tion. Sooner than yield to this mean, dastardly sub- 
 terfuge, I will give up every tie which has hitheito 
 hound me to thee — they are, I perceive, already loos- 
 ened by distrust, and will therefore, be the easier rent 
 asunder! This is my answer to thy pitiful request!' 
 
 'Well, then, mad.im!' said the enraged monarch, 
 'since thou art so forward in proposing that our con- 
 nexion be dissolved, I can or will have no objection I 
 Whatever the cause be of thy unwillingness to un- 
 cover thy head, on the faith and honor of a king, I 
 will abate no whit of my resolve to part with thee, 
 unless on the condition that thou givcst the most ample 
 
 saiisfdclion on this subject! This is my determina- 
 tion, unalterable as the decree ot death.' 
 
 'Farewell, then, fur the present, most royal Chris- 
 tian! — go tell thy advisers that they, us well as thy- 
 self, will soon be relieved of the only obstacle which 
 thwarted their most patriotic hopes for the welfare of 
 the state of Denmark!' 
 
 Milking a stiff obeisance to the king, the lady with- 
 drew, leaving the incensed monarch to seek in soli- 
 tude, or in society, (according as he felt inclined to 
 
 either) a halm for liis wounded pride and affection.' 
 »♦***« 
 
 A breach thus made between the monarcli and his 
 favorite, the courtiers took every imaginable means of 
 widening the aperture, so that nothing less would con- 
 ciliate cither party than a full and implicit submission 
 from the other. 
 
 During several days Christina was abandoned to 
 her own sad thoughts; even those who hiul, hitherto, 
 jiaid her the most servile attention and professed the 
 most unbounded friendship, were now the first to 
 abandon her. It was quickly understood that the 
 king's affection for her had sunk below zero, and it 
 was, therefore time to break olV all appeal ance of inti- 
 macy with the disgraced favorite ! 
 
 Christina, however, regarded the solitude to which 
 she was left, as a sort of alleviation of her sufferings. 
 With her proud heart torn by a thousand harrowing 
 thoughts, how could she have entertained visitors ! 
 Without Christian, the world was to her a desert — 
 what mattered it, then, who came, or who remained 
 absent, when he appeared not who bad been ever as 
 the light of heaven to her eyes i 
 
 Though the prospect ol losing him was beyond all 
 expression dreadful, yet her obstinate pride would not 
 permit her to think of consenting to grant the small 
 favor he required. 
 
 Though Christian, on his part, suffered to the full 
 as much anguish at the prospect of a separation as did 
 Christina herself, yet he was also as firmly resolved to 
 maintain an inflexible front to all the entreaties sho 
 could or would make. 
 
 Desirous of seeing whether she would still persist in 
 her refusal, he determined to pay her yet another visit, 
 and for that purpose sought her presence. 
 
 Oh, how different was the meeting from any that 
 had gone before. It was again evening, for the jiride 
 of the monarch would not permit that Christina should 
 see the emotions which might and would pass over 
 his countenance, and the increasing gloom of twi- 
 light formed a good security against her scrutinizing 
 glance. 
 
 Christina was seated at a window, in all the luxury 
 of uniestraincdjgritf — there was none lo disturb htr 
 sorrow, and her ".cats llowed fast and freely, as she 
 ever and anoii looked forth upon this fair scene, which 
 (like her own lile) had been so lately bright in re 
 splendent sunshine, and was now becoming gradually 
 more and more dim and uncertain. She had been 
 thinking of her early love, and the course of her 
 thoughts (beneath the softening influence of the shad- 
 owy hour) had acquired less of bitterness and more of 
 tender softness. 
 
 A foot was heard at the door, and Christian entered 
 unannounced. The heart of that lonely woman 
 boiiniled with a momentary sensation of delight, for 
 she thought he must have come to crave her pardon, 
 and to renew his vows of everlasting love. But alas! 
 his first words dissipated the illusion his unexpected 
 presence had served to conjure up. 
 
 ' Lady Christina !' said t le monarch, as he took a 
 seat at some distance, ' I have come on the present oc- 
 casion, in order to hear from thine own lips, wheihir 
 thou art still determined to persevere in thy childish 
 obstinacy !' 
 
 ' My liege !' replied the chilled and disappointed 
 Christina, ' if part we must, it were better far, in my 
 poor oi)inion, that we do so without useless recrimina- 
 tion. I have already told your Majesty that I would 
 suffer the most dreadful penalty, rather than concede 
 in this matter — this (I now repeat) is my most fixed 
 detennination !' 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 157 
 
 ' 'Tis well — 'tis well, madam ! — let it then bo so I' 
 said the young monarch, and both relapsed into silence. 
 
 It was a critical moment to each, and they both felt 
 the lull force of the most fervent love thrown back as 
 it were in scorn on their hearts. 
 
 Under cover of the closing darkness Christina wept 
 in silence, while Christian, having quitted his seat, ap- 
 proached the window, und stood leaning against the 
 wall, looking forth on the dark clouds of the night, 
 with sad and dreary foreboding. 
 
 At length, a half-suppressed sob from Christina 
 caught his ear, and, forgetful of every thing but her 
 sorrow, he threw huuself at her feet, by a mechanical 
 impulse. 
 
 ' Oh, Christina ! Christina ! do we part thus, after 
 all our mutual vows ? — Is the love of years, then, so 
 easily forgotten 1 Speak, my love ! dost thou find the 
 task of tearing a rooted aifection from thy heart more 
 easy than does thy wretched lover ?' , 
 
 'Oh ! speak not thus !' murmured Christina; 'speak 
 not thus ! How, dost thou think, c«n I bring myself 
 to determine on separation, when thou thyself findest 
 it so painful ! 
 
 ' And yet, and yet, Christina ! a word from thee 
 would rivit our union more closely than ever ! — Be. 
 think thee of that? 
 
 ' I do bethink me ! But that word can never be 
 spoken by me — I cannot, if I would, consent to thy 
 demand !' 
 
 ' Oh, fate I cruel fate !' said the monarch, ' to what 
 hast thou doomed me 1 Am I indeed then to lose 
 theel oh, thou most adored !' He paused, then quick- 
 ly added : ' Were not my royal word pledged in this 
 matter, so softened is this sad heart, that I could read- 
 ily dispense with the condition, and, lorgiving thee all, 
 take thee to my bosom as fondly as ever — bat it can- 
 not be. The fiat has gone forth — and we must part, 
 since thou art so determined to pursue thy own way !' 
 
 ' Oh, would to Heaven,' said Christina, in a tremu- 
 lous tone, 'that I could comply with thy request. Me- 
 tliinks, were it in my power, that I would trample on 
 pride, and do as thou would 'st have me, to be taken 
 again to the home of thy heart — if — if — but no, I dare 
 not — must not !' It was by a strong effort that she 
 again articulated, 'We part — two days hence— we part 
 to meet no more. But ere this comes to pass, I have 
 one request to make.' 
 
 'Name it — name it,' said the agitated monarch. 'I 
 swear to thee, Christina, that thou shalt have it, even 
 though it were the half of my kingdom. Say on — 
 what would'st thou V 
 
 ' [ require only from thee, monarch of Denmark, 
 so much ground in whatever part of Ireland I may se- 
 lect, as will enable me to found a castle. I have a 
 strange longing after that country, and (desolate as I 
 shall soon he) I would fain have unto myself a home- 
 stead wherein to shelter this weary head.' 
 
 ' It is thine, Christina. Since thou hast taken such 
 a strange fancy to that distant isle, thou shalt have 
 thy desire fulfilled. To-morrow, 1 will have a deed 
 drawn up to that effect.' 
 
 ' Thanks, thanks, most gracious sovereign I' ex- 
 claimed Christina — ' I knew thou would'st not refuse 
 me this favor. But I have another boon to ask — the 
 ship that I have already in view to bear me hence, lies 
 in the port awaiting my arrival, (as, knowing how this 
 would end, I have privately hired the vessclj I shall 
 embark to-morrow — and I entreat thee, as a last token 
 of regard, to honor me with thy presence at a farewell 
 banquet, which I shall have prepared on board — as al- 
 so to come attended by the principal nobles of thy 
 court. May I hope that thou wilt confer on me this 
 final grace !' 
 
 ' On the faith of a prince, thy wishes shall be obeyed, 
 even to the smallest particular. At what hour would'st 
 thou that I should attend the banquet?' 
 
 'At six of the clock in the afternoon, I shall expect 
 my royal master.' 
 
 'Adieu, then, for the present, Christina. Oh! if 
 thou wouldst permit mc to love thee as of old. But 
 why need I speak thus? Is not all that passed away 
 
 forever? Farewell, till our next meeting, which will, 
 however, be a most painful one !' 
 
 'farewell, my gracious liege!' Christina strove to 
 pronounce these last words with firmness, but in vain 
 she tried, for her voice was almost drowned in her 
 overwhelming .anguish. 
 
 Leaving Christina to her own absorbing misery, let 
 us proceed to explain (wh.at may appear incongruous) 
 the right exercised by the Danish kings of bestowing 
 lands in Ireland. It is not easy to believe that, 
 though many ages have elapsed since the Danes were 
 finally defeated at the memorable battle of Clontarf, 
 and were subsequently expelled the country, yet they 
 still persist in their behalf that the 'Green Island of 
 the AVest' belongs of right to them, so that it is no 
 uncommon occurrence for the estates in Ireland to be 
 given as marriage portions by the Danes — the bride- 
 grooms being moreover perfectly satisfied with the 
 bargain, as there is a prevailing notion amongst the 
 people of Denmark that they are destined, at some 
 future time, (by what means the prophecy sayeth not,) 
 to regain their rtghtful dominion. Whether this most 
 absurd idea still obtains credence among the Danes, 
 we cannot say, but at the time of which we speak, it 
 was generally received. 
 
 Early on the following morning, Christina dis- 
 missed all her attendants, with the exception of Erica, 
 (who has been already introduced to the reader,) and, 
 having made all her preparations during the night, 
 she set out for the pier, accompanied by her faithful 
 maid. 
 
 They embarked about one o'clock, and the suc- 
 ceeding hours were employed in preparing for the 
 reception of the illustrious guests invited by Christina 
 to her banquet. 
 
 As the appointed hour drew near, Christina, attired 
 with all possible magnificence, took her station near 
 the window of the state-cabin in order to await the 
 arrival of her sovereign. 
 
 Often was her anxious glance cast over the waste 
 of waters in search of the expected object, and each 
 time her eye fell listlessly on the numerous craft which 
 studded the bosom of the noble harbor. Copenhagen 
 lay before her in all its kingly magnificence — the city 
 of her birth — and the scene of her departed splendor. 
 She gazed for a moment on its regal walls with mel- 
 Upcholy pride and pleasure, but she quickly turned 
 from the sight — what was it all to her — a houseless 
 and a homeless adventurer, turned adrift on the wide 
 world by the man to whom the best years of her life 
 had been devoted! 
 
 At length the royal barge was seen gliding smooth- 
 ly over the blue wave, with the regal banner of Den- 
 mark floating from her mast — anon every ship in the 
 harbor displayed the flags of their various nations — all 
 was gay excitement, and the young king stepped on 
 board Christina's vessel amidst the deafening disch.arge 
 of artillery from the men-of-war which lay around at 
 anchor. 
 
 The royal Dane was then in the full bloom and 
 vigor of manhood, of stately and majestic deport- 
 ment, and, as he gr.icefully acknowledged the lowly 
 reverence of the ship's crew, his condescending de- 
 meanor won all hearts. 
 
 Descending to the cabin, followed by the chief lords 
 of his court, he found Christina anxiously awaiting his 
 appearance. 
 
 Long as he bad known and loved this beautiful 
 woman, he was altogether unprepared for thu sight 
 which met his view. The rays of the evening sun fell 
 upon her as she stood near the window, and so gor- 
 geous was her jewelled robe, that her own transccndant 
 beauty seemed that of some glorious spirit of light — 
 so dazzling was its effect on the beholder, Chris- 
 tina smiled sadly, as she presented her hand to the 
 monarch — 
 
 'Does my liege marvel to see me so finely at'ired ? 
 Ills wonder will cease, when bo reflects that this is 
 our last meeting. Is it not, then, natural that I should 
 wish to leave my image on his memory in as glowing 
 colors us I possibly can?' 
 
 'Oh, Christina!' said the monarch, forgetting hia 
 surprise, in the awakened pnrpose of his visit; 'oh, 
 Christina! is the hour of thy departure indeed come? 
 Can nothing induce thee to postpone it ? But alas ! I 
 had forgotten that entreaty ia useless !' 
 
 Christina now looked towards the courtiers, who re- 
 mained standing near the door, at a respectful distance 
 from their master, .ind, bidding them all welcome, re- 
 quested that they would be seated. They all obeyed 
 in silence, as the king had already given them the ex- 
 ample, having seated himself at the sumptuously be- 
 decked board. He placed Christina at his right hand, 
 and condescended himself to do the honors of the table. 
 But few words were exchanged during the repast — for 
 a gloom seemed to have overshadowed all present. 
 
 The attendants had no sooner retired with the table 
 equipage that Christina addressed the monarch : 
 
 •Before I quit this country forever, most gracious 
 king! I would fain remove a certain suspicion which 
 has of late tarnished my name. Men shall not be at 
 liberty to say of Christina that she had not courage to 
 reveal the Iiideous mystery. I am fully sensible of my 
 obligations to the nobles here present, and would fain 
 testify to them my deep gratitude. Since they were so 
 p.issing kind as to awaken your Majesty to my unfor- 
 tunate concealment, they shall be gratified by a sight 
 of that deformity, the supposition even of which was 
 sufficient to deprive me of a love which had been 
 strengthened by the growth of years. They shall see 
 Christina as she really is ! My lords !' she added, ad- 
 dressing the wondering courtiers, ' I would have yo 
 prepare, by summoning all your fortitude, that ye may 
 behold the frightful object without being bereft of your 
 senses.' 
 
 So saying, she slowly and with the utmost compos- 
 ure, untied her head-dress, and drawing it off, disclosed 
 to view a rich profusion of bright auburn hair, gather- 
 ed into a soft plait on the top of the head, so as to be 
 entirely concealed by the cap. Christina gracefully 
 raised her hand, and withdrawing the golden pin by 
 which it was supported, permitted the magnificent 
 volume of hair to fiill about her shoulders, while her 
 face was lit up with conscious triumph. 
 
 'Approach, my royal lord! and examine whether 
 these locks are false — these noble gentlemen will sure- 
 ly believe thy testimony !' 
 
 Though utterly confounded by such an uuexpected 
 sight, yet Christian mechanically obeyed, and, having 
 satisfied himself that the beautiful hair was natural to 
 Christina, and that her head was a perfect model for a 
 statuary, his whole heart filled with shame, remorse, 
 and renewed tenderness, his own head fell almost pow- 
 erless on Christina's shoulder, as her arms involuntari- 
 ly opened to receive him. 
 
 •Lord of my heart! be not thus ovenvhelmed? 
 Arouse thyself in order that thou may'st be able to con- 
 sole thy poor Christina, in this last sad interview." 
 
 ' Christina !' at length said the king, as he led her to 
 a seat— 'Beloved of my soul ! wilt thou forgive me? 
 but can I hope for forgiveness— I, who have openly, 
 and most wantonly insulted thee?' 
 
 ' Forgive thee, my lord ! — oh, how readily do I for- 
 give thy involuntary oflx-nce. How could I harbor 
 aught of malice against thee— the sole possessor of my 
 affections ?' 
 
 ' Christina, may I presume to hope thiit thou wilt 
 not leave me ?— thou still acknowledgest that I am 
 dear to thee, can I not then prevail on thee to remain?' 
 [To be continued.] 
 
 How TO Check a Bank Run.— Daniel O'Connell 
 is said to have cheeked a panic on a bank of which he 
 was a director by making a cashier roast the gold that 
 was given in exchange for notes. The people thought 
 that they were coining money in the hank parlor, and 
 that they couldn't break a bank which could supply 
 its customers with gold like breakfast rolls. Besides 
 it was rather uncomfortable to pick up hot sovereigns, 
 and the process of cashing was necessarily slow. 
 
 Why is a young lady before marriage never right? 
 Because she is all the time a miss. 
 
158 
 
 IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 LITERATURE AND ART. 
 
 DmsnucTiosf of tiik Bastille.— It WRS now 
 that iho mysteries of lliis State-prison were unveiled 
 its bolls broken— its iron doors burst open — its dun- 
 geons and subterranean cells penetrated — from llie 
 gates of the lowers to their very deepest foundations 
 and their summits. The iron riojis and the chains, 
 rusting in thtir strong masonry, weio pointed out, from 
 which tlio victims were never released, except to ho 
 lorturcd, lo be executed, or to die. On those walls 
 tliLV read the names of prisoners, the dates of their 
 conlineroent, their griefs and their prayers — miserable 
 men, who had left behind oidy those poor memorials 
 in their dungeons to ailest their prolonged existence 
 and their innocence ! It was surprising to find almost 
 all these dungeons empty. The people ran from one 
 to the other ; they penetrated into the most secret re- 
 cesses and cavenis, to carry thither the word of release, 
 and to bring a my of tlie free light of heaven to eyes 
 long lost to it ; they tore the locks from the heavy 
 doors, and those heavy doors from their hinges ; they 
 carried otf the heavy keys : all these things were dis- 
 played in tnuinph in the open court. They then broke 
 into the archives, and read the entries of committals. 
 These papers, then ignominiously scattered, were af- 
 terwards collected. They were the annals of arbitrary 
 tunes, the records of the fears or vengeance of minis- 
 ters, or of the meaner intrigues of their favorites, here 
 faithfully kept to justify a late exposure and reproach. 
 The people expected to see a .spectre come forth from 
 these ruins to testify against these iniquities of kings. 
 The Bastille, however, long cleared of all guilt by the 
 gentle spirit of Louis XVI., and by the humane dis- 
 position of his ministers, disappointed these gloomy 
 expectations. The dungeons, the cells, the iron col- 
 lars, the chains, were only worn-out symbols of antique 
 secret incarcerations, torture ans burials alive. They 
 now represented only recollections of old horrors. 
 These vaults restored to light but seven prisoners, three 
 of whom, grey-headed men, were shut up legitimately, 
 and whom family motives had withdrawn from the 
 judgments of the ordinary courts of law. Tavernier 
 aud Withe, two of them, had become insane. They 
 saw the light of the sun with surprise ; and their in- 
 curable insanity caused them to be sent to the mad- 
 house of Charenton, a few days after they had enjoyed 
 fresh air and freedom. The third was the Count de 
 Solages, thirty-two years before sent to this prison at 
 his father's request. When restored (ree to Toulouse, 
 his home, he was recognized by none, and died in pov- 
 erty. Whether he had been guilty of some crime, or 
 was the victim of oppression, was an inexplicable 
 enigma. The other four prisoners had been confined 
 only four years, and on purely civil grounds. They 
 had forged bills of exchange, and were arrested in Hol- 
 land on the requisition of the bankers they had de- 
 frauded. A Koyal commission had reported on their 
 cases. But nothing was now listened to against them. 
 Whatever had been branded by absolute authority 
 must be innocent in the eyes of the prejudiced people. 
 These seven prisoners of the Bastille became victims 
 — released, caressed, even crowned with laurels, car- 
 ried in triumph by their liberators like living spoil 
 snatched from the hands of tyranny, they were paraded 
 about the streets, and their suirerings avenged by the 
 people's shouts and tears. The intoxication of the 
 victors broke out against the very stones of the ])lace, 
 and the embrasures torn from the towers were soon 
 hurled with indignation into the ditches — [Lamurtinc's 
 History of the Constituent ^Vssembly. 
 
 How TO Foster x Talknt for Dratvikg. — If a 
 child has a talent for drawing, it will be continually 
 scrawling on what paper it can get, and should be 
 allowed to scrawl at its own free will, due praise being 
 given for every appearance of care or truth in its ef- 
 forts. It should be allowed to amuse itself with cheap 
 colors almost as soon as it has sense enough to wish 
 for them. If it merely daubs the paper with shapeless 
 stains, the color-box may be taken away till it knows 
 better; but, as soon as it begins to paint red coats on 
 soldiers, striped flags to ships, &c., it should have 
 
 colors at command; and without restraining its choico 
 of subject in that imaginative and historical art of a 
 iniliuiry tendency which children delight in (generally 
 quite as valuable, by the way, as any historical art do- 
 lighted in by their elders,) it should be gently led by 
 the parents to draw, in such childish fashion as may 
 be, the things it can see and likes — birds, or butler- 
 flies, or flowers, or fruit. In later years, the indul- 
 gence of using the color should only be granted, as a 
 reward, after it has shown care and progress in its 
 drawings with pencil.— [Uuskiu's Elements of Draw- 
 ing. 
 
 The Late James McGlashan.— In recording the 
 death of James McGlashan, which took place at Edin- 
 burgh, wo cannot refrain from saying a few words of 
 one so identified with the progress of literature in Ire- 
 land. For a quarter of a century Mr. McGlashan 
 devoted the energies of a sagacious intellect, and a 
 clear, practical mind, to promote and foster the litera- 
 ture and the literary men of this country. It was the 
 dream of his life to give Ireland what England and 
 Scotland possess — a literary independence — to find a 
 home market for her men of genius, and command a 
 position for her publications. If he was not complete- 
 ly successful in this, he at least made a progress well 
 attested by the fact that there are now four literary 
 periodicals, in addition to those purely scientific or 
 professional, published in our city. Througliout his 
 laborious life, Mr. McGlashan maintained an unim- 
 pe.iclmble character for integrity and fair dealing. He 
 acquired the respect of all, and the friendship of many 
 wliose friend.ship was an honor.— [Uubliu Evening 
 Packet. 
 
 Signor Albani, a veteran Italian sculptor, has just 
 died at Rome, at the advanced age of SO. During his 
 long artistieal career, he had acquired no inconsidera- 
 ble fortune, which he has left to be distributed in ex- 
 hibitions and prizes among young Italian sculptors. 
 
 A correspondent of the London Critic, writing from 
 Rome, says: 'The young American lady. Miss Hns- 
 mer,has recently finished a recumbent statue — a monu- 
 mental portrait of a young lady named Falconet, who 
 died in Rome, and is here represented in that placid 
 ideal repose, between sleep and death, that is surely 
 most suitable for the statuary of the tomb.' 
 
 The committee ordered by the Emperor of the 
 French to prepare for publication the correspondence 
 of Napoleon the First, issued the first voulume of itf 
 interesting labors. The emperor himself has revised 
 the press. This first volume is said to contain a great 
 number of hitherto unknown documents. 
 
 The sale of the gallery of the late Count Thibau- 
 dcau, of Paris, has just taken place in that city. A 
 portrait of Camargo, nn opera dancer, by Grewzc, sold 
 forXlOl. 
 
 Victor Hugo is about to publish a new volume of 
 poems, under the title of 'Les Petites Epopees.' 
 
 A female sculptor, named Felice de Faveau, is ex- 
 citing at present great attention at Florence. Her 
 works are pronounced to be of the very first class, and 
 particular mention is made of a monument from her 
 chisel, to the memory of a girl 17 yeu'S of age, which 
 has been erected in the chapel of the Medici, in the 
 church of Santa Croce. 
 
 A Wklsh Caui) of I.nvitation. — Mr. Walter 
 Norton, and Mrs. Walter Norton, and Miss San- 
 dys' compliments to Mr. Charles Morgan, Mrs. 
 Charles Morgan, Miss Charles Morgan, and the 
 Gorerncss (whose name Mr. Walter Norton, Mrs. 
 Waller Norton, and Miss Sandys, do not recollect), 
 and Mr. Walter Norton, Mrs. Walter Norton, and 
 Miss Sandys, request the favor of the company of 
 J[r. Charles Morgan, Mrs. Charles Morgan, and Miss 
 Charles Morgan, and the Governess (whose name Mr. 
 Walter Norton, Mrs Walter Norton, and Miss Sandys, 
 do not recollect), to dinner on Monday next week. 
 Mr. Walter Norton, Mrs. Walter Norton, and Miss 
 Sandys, beg to inform Mr. Charles Jlorgan, Mrs. 
 Charles Jlorgan, and Miss Cl-;arles Morgnn, and the 
 Governess (whose name Mr. Walter Norton, Mrs. ' 
 
 Walter Norton, and Miss Sandys do not rccollcct)> 
 that Mr. Walter Norton, Mrs. Walter Norton, and 
 Miss Sandys, can accommodate Mr. Charles Morgan, 
 Mrs. Charles Morgan, Miss Charles Morgan, and the 
 Governess (whose name Mr Walter Norton, Mrs. 
 Walter Norton, and Miss Sandys, do not recollect^, 
 with beds, if remaining the night is agreeable to Mr. 
 Charles Jlorgan, Mrs. Charles Jlorgan, Miss Charles 
 Jlorgan, and the Governess (whose name Mr. Walter 
 Norton, Mrs. AValtcr Norton, and Miss Sandys, do not 
 recollect.) 
 
 MISCELLANEA. 
 
 ' Nat, what are you leaning over that empty cask 
 for ■' ' Jlourning over departed spirits.' 
 
 A culprit being asked what he had to say why 
 sentence of death should not be recorded against 
 him, replied. ' He had nothing to say, as too much 
 had been said already.' 
 
 There is nothing more dangerous to the virtuous 
 than association with the guilty who possess amia- 
 ble and attractive qualities. 
 
 ' How long did Adam remain in Paradise before 
 he sinned :' said an amiable spouse to her husband, 
 ' Till he got a wife ;' calmly answered the husband. 
 
 A builder at Taunton, having some ground to let, 
 has stuck up a board with the following, ' This good 
 and desirable land to be let on a lease one htuidred 
 and twenty yards long.' 
 
 Dean Swift, hearing of a carpenter falling through 
 the scaffolding of a house which he was engaged in 
 repairing, dryly remarked that he liked to see a man 
 go through his work promptly. 
 
 ' My brethren,' said Swift, in a sermon, 'there 
 arc three sorts of pride ; of birth, of riches, and of 
 talents, i shall not speak of the latter, none of you 
 being liable to that sort of vice.' 
 
 The old bachelor who went to the door of a 
 widow's house and pulled his own nose instead of 
 the bell-knob, has lately drowned himself in a ' gulf 
 of sorrow.' 
 
 The poor man who dreads a scowl on his wife's 
 face whenever he thinks fit to take a friend home 
 with him is, indeed, to be pitied. Single life is 
 blessedness compared to a union with an ill-tem- 
 pered woman. 
 
 There is nothing purer than honesty; nothing 
 sweeter than charity ; nothing warmer than love ; 
 nothing richer than wisdom ; nothing brighter than 
 virtue ; nothing more steadfast than faith. 
 
 ' Love not your children unequally ; or if you do, 
 show it not, lest you make the one proud, the other 
 envious, and both foolish. If nature has made a 
 difference, it is the part of the tender parent to help 
 the weakest.' 
 
 ' There is nothing,' says Plato, ' so delightful as 
 the hearing or the speaking of truth. For this rea- 
 son, there is no conversation so agreeable as that of 
 the man of integrity, who hears without any inten- 
 tion to betray, aud speaks without any intention to 
 deceive.' 
 
 ' The longer I live,' says a great writer, ' the more 
 certain I am that the great difference between men, 
 the great aud the insiguilleant, is energy — invincible 
 determination — an honest purpose once fi.xed, and 
 then death or victory. 'I'liat quality will do any- 
 thing in the world that can be done in the world ; 
 and no talents, no circumstanecs, no opportunity, 
 will make a two legged creature a man without it.' 
 
 Dutchman. Coot morer, Patrick, how you tuz ? 
 
 Irishman. The top o' the morning tUl ye, Smitt, 
 d'ye think we'll get rain the day ? 
 
 Dutchman. ICess no ; ve never hash much rain 
 in very di-y time. 
 
 Irishman. Faith, an ye're right there, Smitt, and 
 thin whiniver it gits in the way, 'rainin,' the (ii\il 
 a bit o' dhry wither will we get as long as the wet 
 ■"pell howlds. 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 159 
 
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 PKOSPECTU8. 
 
 IKISK MLSCKLLANY. Prospectus. On Saturday the 
 13th diiy of J'cbiuary 1858. was published the first 
 nuinibcT ol anew wuukly iieriodical, with the above title, 
 dedicaled to the di)Iuf>ion ol'a more intimate knowledge ol 
 the literary and political history of Ireland, and to the 
 mental, nioral and political elevation of tlie Celtic race on 
 
 TlH' -Wrrv;^ ArMr.//./.rv" will on,, i ■, i,, I (1 i-M trcs of closcly 
 
 ■■' '"' '""■ !'"i" ■ '■' ■ ■ ir 10 this pr08- 
 
 ■■'■■;■:' ■■!■ '■,■■■■■' :'^'*ry ; or 3f2 a 
 
 peclii 
 
 proper to say, tiiat it i.- nut our iiiluuuon lu ij.>piiK.; upon 
 the ^n-ound already occupied by any ol oiii- coU-mporaiies. 
 We liave marked out for oarl^elvc8 a coin>e cuiii ely new and 
 original— one not occupied by any other publication in this 
 countrv. We propo.^e lo cultivate a lield whicli, although 
 naturally rich and fertile, and capable of produeing the 
 choicest tlowers and fruits of literature, has hitherto lain 
 comparatively barren and unproductive. Into this: held we 
 shall enter with a full coiiiidencc of its capabilities, but with 
 a modest dilUdence of the ekill which we shall bring to its 
 culture. 
 
 It has long been a reproach to our race here, that "while 
 tho publications of the day, with but few exccptiouf, teem 
 with vile carricatures of us and of our countrv — while we 
 are continually held up to public gaze as everything that is 
 foolish, absurb and vicious— but little eflbrtis nuide to place 
 the true character of our people before the public eye. or 
 vindicate our name and race from thecalumuies with which 
 English hate everywhere pursues us. 
 
 To correct, in some measure, this crving evil, it was at 
 first intended to gather together a number of Irishmen dis- 
 tinguished iu the walks of literature, and publisrh monthly 
 a review, which, for sterling talent, should be second to 
 none published here or in Knorpe. The great expense con \ 
 sequent upon an undertaking of this magnitude, deterred ua 
 from the attempt, compelled us to relinquish our design, 
 and to substitute instead thereof, our more unpretending 
 " Miscellnni/." 
 
 We propose to re-produce in our weekly periodical the 
 writings of many of the great minds who have gone before 
 us, while we shall also cull from the current Irish litera- 
 ture of the day, such productions of merit canuot fail to be 
 accoptable to our reade]>' ^.'.lv country is rich in legeudry 
 lore, and the legends ot the wld land, while they amuse, 
 serve to instruct and to elevate. 
 
 We shall therefore publish such instructive tales and le- 
 gends of a high moral tone, that will remind us of the haj)- 
 py times when we — 
 
 ''Sat by the fire of a cold Winter's night. 
 Along with our friends telling tales of delight." 
 
 We shall give faithful desriptions and illustrations ot 
 Irish antiquities — of ourruind monasteries, our plundered 
 abbeys and churches ; and our pictorial ilustrations of Irish 
 scenery and antiquities will present to loving minds many 
 familiar scenes of early childhood. We have secured the 
 services of talented artists, and each number of the Miscel- 
 lany will contain numerous pictorial illustrations executed 
 in tlie best style of art. 
 
 We shall keep constantly before our readers the ancient 
 glory of our cuuntry, and while we ponderwith pride upon 
 the moral and intellectual superiority of Ireland, when 
 En";land and the rest of Europe was sunk in ignorance and 
 
 li-n";Jana ana tne rest ol J^urope was sunk m ignorance and 
 bai-barism ; we shall point to the past as an incentive to the 
 future. 
 
 The biographies of distinguished Irishmen will he an im- 
 portant feature in the Irisk Miscellany, as we shall give bio- 
 graphical notices of Irishmen, distinguished in every de- 
 partment of literature, science and art — of men distinguish- 
 ed on the tea and on land j iu the church, the senate, and 
 at the bar. 
 
 It is our intention to republish the works of Irish writers 
 now out of print, in such a manner that they mav be pre- 
 served to future time as a memento of the old land, and 
 serve to incalculate, in the minds of the rising generation, 
 a filial regard for the land of their fathers. 
 
 We propose commencing with the Dublin Penny Journal^ 
 a work which in its day enjoyed unbounded popularity. 
 We shall devote one half of the Miscdlany to each number 
 of that national publication. To do this we have ordered a 
 font of type iu Irish characters, so that the poems printed 
 in that Journal in the Irish language can be reprinted iu 
 Irish characters "with English translation in ours. This 
 department of the M'scellaiiy will be in the hands of an Irish 
 gentleman every way competent to the task. 
 
 The remaining eight pages of the Miscdlany will be devo- 
 ted to the current news of the day, to original articles, tales, 
 e^-;^ys, poetry. &c. In politics we shall endeavor to avoid 
 !lm.-e questions which have divided our countrymen, or 
 diMii.^sthem in a manner void of ofience. 
 
 11k- L-ish M>snihtnyw\\\hc thoroughly independent of all 
 polilieu) ]';i!ii''-- tin' slave of none- Such questions as af- 
 fect (Jiir I mill 11 II htie, \\G shall di'-cu«'=; with freedom, 
 and /I il II I 1 il I lui their moial, intellectual and politi- 
 
 Uic . .hi II il 1 it IS ^\lll be dnided among several gentle- 
 men oi il ilii\ II M\etiustto make the MMrt/'ojn/ a wel- 
 conii in I ii III iin side of e\erv famih "V^ ilh these re- 
 in iiLs \\l i omni ml our sheet to the support ot t\ery well 
 wisliM ol uui iiu. "W . IcU )h(u is room for such a pub- 
 lic i(n)n indpiiniii til It m thnu ^li ill be wanting on our 
 p.ut to make it \\uitii\ ol [ iil ln_ -■iipi)oit 
 
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 %*lhankful for pa<;t fa% or'' they would respectfully so- 
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S'flfctci) cvprrssli) for l|c |vis| |flisfcll;mu, 
 
 PBOM THE " SPIRIT OP THE NATION." 
 
 POETRY BY THOMAS DA.VIS. 
 
 AGGQHPAIffiEST FQ)R THE PIAISO-FCETE. 
 
 -• - -^ ^ — * 
 
 1 Let IJrit - aiii k):ist licr Brit - ish hosts, A - bout them all riglit lit-tle care wc ; Not Brit - ish seas nor Britisli coasts Can match Tin: 
 *> Lead him to fi"ht for na - tive land, His is no cour - age cold and wa-ry ; The troops live not on earth would stand The lieadluiig 
 
 ^ — 2-~f-~-S- ' • -9 -o- -m- P 9 -m- -*- 
 
 1 ■ ' 'r 'i "^ 
 
 u.ji _ J J ^J ^o p. ,* r T T* l-«'-T« ^^ — T»— -©—-'-t'S-— T^— * ,* T|-'*#i— T 
 
 
 ^_,_./^_f^. 
 
 Mw-Tnu Mam OF Tii'I'erakyI Tall is his fonn, his heart is warm, His spi - rlt light as a-ny fai.- ry-IIis wrath is fear-ful 
 Cliar"e— The Char"e of Tippcrary 1 Yet meet him in his cab-in rude, Or dune - ing with his dark-hair'd Ma-ry,You'd swear they knew no 
 
 
 ^ 
 
 
 Ia 
 
 
 mj^mm^m^^^^^^m^^^ 
 
 -a- 
 
 h:it sweeps The niLi.s-ThoniM,s of Tirri;nAr.Y! Hiswmth is fcnr-ful ns the storm Thnt sweeps The Hii.LS-Thc Ilii.i.sof Tutkrabv! 
 
 But Miith-ISut Mirth and Love in Tippcrary ! You'd swear tliey knew no oth - er mood But Mirth-But ilirtli and Love in Tip-pe la-ry ! 
 
 as the storm That sweeps The IIiLLS-Tho HiM-s of Tim-nAnYl His wrath is fear - ful ns the storm Thnt sweeps The Hii.LS-Thc IIii.i.s of 
 
 oth - cr mood But Mirtli-But Mirth and Love in Tippcrary ! You'd swear tliey knew no oth - er mood But Mirth-But Mirtli and Love in Tip- 
 
 
 You 're free to sliare his scanty meal, 
 
 His plighted word he'll never vary — 
 In vain they tried with gold and steel 
 
 To shake The Faith of Tippcrary I 
 Soft is his cuilin's sunny eye. 
 
 Her mien is mild, her step Ls airy, 
 Her heart is fond, her soul is high — 
 
 Oh 1 she 's The Pride of Tippcraiy 1 
 
 4. 
 Let Britain, too, her banner brag, 
 
 AVe "U lift The Green more proud and airy ; 
 Be mine the lot to bear that flag, 
 
 And head The Men of Tippcrary ! 
 Though 15ritain boasts her British hosts, 
 
 About them all right little care we — 
 Give us, to guard our native coasts, 
 
 The Matchless men of Tipixjrary ! 
 
VOLUME I— NUMBER 11. ] 
 
 BOSTON, SATURDAY, APRIL 24, 1858. 
 
 [ PRICE FOUK CENTS. 
 
 THE CATHEDRAL CHURCH OF ARMAGH. 
 
 The subject of our ace ompanying illustration can 
 hardly fail of being interesting to our readers of 
 every religious denomination, for though in itself of 
 no great antiquity or architectural interest, it is in- 
 timately associated in our minds witli the establish- 
 ment of the Christian faith in our Island, and with 
 the mild but persevering labors of our patron Saint. 
 In the minds of the Milesian Irish it must awaken 
 sentiments of just pride and recollections of na- 
 tional glory, for Armagh was a chief seat of relig- 
 ion and literature, a blazing star, when most o»her 
 parts of the western world were involved in the 
 darkness of idolatry and ignorance — and ill the' 
 
 minds of the English or Irish of English descent, it 
 should excite sentiments of gratitude and affection 
 for our country, for it was to this seminary of edu- 
 cation that England was in a great degree indebted 
 for the rudiments of learning, which have ultimate- 
 ly exalted her to such a pitch of glory. To the 
 school which was founded here by St. Patrick, as 
 we are informed by the Venerable Bede, multitudes 
 of the English nobility and middle ranks resorted, 
 and were supplied with books and food; and every 
 other want, without charge, and in the most hospi- 
 table spirit. 
 
 The general history of Armagh would require a 
 volume, and has been made the subject of a highly 
 
 valuable and interesting one by Dr. Stewart, of 
 Belfast. The nature of our little work, however, 
 will only permit us to give it in distinct portions, 
 and we shall on the present occasion, confine our- 
 selves to that of the subject of our illustration — its 
 Cathedral Church. 
 
 The original edifice was erected by St. Patrick in 
 the year 445. It appears from the authority of the 
 tripartite life of the founder, to have been an ob- 
 long structure 140 feet in length, and divided into 
 nave and choir, according to the custom of all our 
 ancient churches. This sacred edifice did not es- 
 cape the sacrelegious devastations of the northern 
 pirates. It was pillaged and burned, together with 
 
 T U E C A T II E D K A L OF A R M A G II 
 
162 
 
 IRISH MISCEIXANY. 
 
 the other buiiaings of the city in 83'J ami SSO. In Oljinpiud. or 104 years before the Christian era, thus 
 890 it was partly broken clo»vn by the Dane* of spinks of Irelaml : 
 Publin, under the command of tiluiiiani. In 99o ' '- 
 
 Juveniia, Insula Rrittaniea ad llorciim <iuidem 
 temiiuatur oceiino llypeiboreo appellato. Ab ori- 
 eutc vero occano qui voeatur Uibernicu», a nieridic 
 vero oceano virgioio. Se.xdccem habet gentis, un- 
 deccni eivitates insignes, fiuvios insignes quindccim, 
 quinquc promontoria insignia, et iiuiulas insignes 
 sex.' 
 
 Juvemia, a British isle, is bounded on the north 
 
 it was bunud by an accidental coulhigration, gen- 
 erated by lightning: and again in the year 1020. In 
 11J6, the roof was rcpared with tiles, by the I'rim- 
 ate ColMis, having for the period of one hundred 
 anil thirty years, after the tire in 995, been only re- 
 paired in part. A more ijerfcct restoration was ef- 
 fected bv the rrimatc Gelasius in 11 IJ, on which 
 occasion, according to the annalists, he constructed by the ocean called the Hyperborean, but on the 
 a kiln or furnace for the preparation of Urae, wliich cast by the ocean which is called the Hibernian ; on 
 kiln appears to have been quadrangular, and was j the south by the Virgivian ocean. It has sixteen 
 of the c-xtmordinary dimension of 60 feet on every nations, and eleven illustrious cities, fifteen romark- 
 side. After this period this venerable remain ap- able rivers, five remarkable promontories, and six 
 pears to have sutfered little, save fron» age, till the j remarkable islands." 
 
 seventeenth century, when on the 2d of May, in the I Every scholar knows what Tacitus asiscrts in the 
 vear 1C42, it was burned by Sir Thelim O'Neill. , life of his father-in-law, Agricola ; that the ports of 
 After this injury it was deemed no longer servicea- [ Ireland were better known from commerce, and 
 We, and the present church was erected on its site through commercial men, than those of Britain, 
 in 1675, by the benevolent Archbishop Margctson. j ' Portus per commercia et negotiatores melius cog- 
 This church, which is in the Gothic or pointed niti ' 
 
 style, differs from its ancient predecessors in form 
 and size, its shape being that of a cross, and its in- 
 terior measurment 1S3 1-2 feet in length from east 
 to west, and its breadth in the transepts 119 feet 
 from north and south. The intcror is ornamented 
 with several splendid monuments, of which the 
 
 Cormac Mac Art, monarch of Ireland, who began 
 his reign in the middle of the third century, wrote 
 instructions for liis son, Carbry of the I,ifiey, in 
 which he advises him, ' to invite ships, to import 
 valuable wares across the sea.' 
 
 Barca do thochus, allmhuire sed (Gloss seoid 
 
 most remarkable for beauty and costliness is that of | anall tar muir.) An epitome of these instructions 
 the pious, worthy and learned Dean Urelincourt— a ; is still extant, of which we intend to give some ac- 
 work of the famous sculptor llysbrack. The other | count in a future number. 
 
 monuments most worthy of notice are those of the | Ptolemy x^laces Eblana Polis in about the centre 
 llev. l)r. Jenny, Hector of the Parish, who died in \ of the eastern side of Ireland, which shows that it 
 
 1758; Primate Kobinson— a bust by Bacon; AVill- 
 iam Viscount Charlemont, who died in 1C71, and 
 his father "William Baron Caultield; and the late 
 Rev. Thomas Carpcndale, Jlastcr of the Endowed 
 Classic School of Armagh, erected in 1818. The 
 monuments for which the original Cathedral was 
 celebrated, unfortunately no longer remain! Many 
 of these deserve from posterity a different fate — for 
 here were interred the heros or Clontarf — the ven- 
 erable Brian, and his son Murchard, and his nephew 
 Conan, and liis friend Methlin Prince of the Becies 
 of Waterford— here their bodies, which had been 
 conveyed thither by the clergy, lay in funeral state 
 for twelve successive nights, during which psalms, 
 hj-mns1ind prayers were chanted for their souls, 
 and well did they merit those pious honors. 
 
 r. 
 
 ANNALS OF DUBLIN. 
 
 There is sufHcicnt foreign and domestic testimony 
 to prove that Ireland had commerce, and several 
 cities of note, at a very early period, and unques- 
 tionably several centuries before the great Danes 
 obtained any footing in it. 
 
 The great Alexandrian geographer, Ptolemy, who 
 lived in the reign of Antoninus Pius, about the year 
 of Christ 130, enumerates several illustrious cities 
 existed a long time before, else he would not have 
 heard of them. AVe set down here a list of them, 
 for the information of several thousand of our read- 
 ers who have not opportunities of consulting this 
 curious document in the original. 
 
 1. Nagnata, an illustrious maratime city (I'olis I piagii, super fretum maris posita, et Scoticc dicitur 
 Episemos) on the western coast. Dubhlinn quod sonat Latine Nigra Thcnna, et ipsa, 
 
 2. Manapia, a maratime city, on the eastern side. , civitas potens et belligera est, in qufi semper habit- 
 
 3. Eblana, a maratime city, on the eastern side. a„t yiri asperrimi in prcaliis ct peritissimi in clas- 
 
 can be no other than the City of Dublin. 
 
 Dublin, therefore, has a just claim to an antiquity 
 of seventeen centuries, and it is manifest that it 
 must have existed sever.il centuries before Ptolemy's 
 time, else he would not have called it a city, or 
 even have heard of it. The first mention we find 
 made of Dublin in the remnant of ancient Irish his- 
 tory that has reached our times, is in the Annals of 
 Tighernach, under the year 166, where he tells us, 
 that Con of the hundred battles, and Mogha Xuad- 
 hat, divided Ireland into two parts by a line drawn 
 from the eastern to the western Athcliath, i. e. from 
 Athcliath Duibhlinne to Athcliath Meadhraidhe, or 
 from Dublin to Clarin's bridge, near Galway.* It 
 is added in otlier accounts, (not in Tighcmach,) that 
 Mogha Nuadhat, who was otherwise called Eogan 
 the Splendid, thought himself over-reached in this 
 partition, because the half of the harbor of Dublin, 
 which he observed to be commodious for trallic, .ind 
 visited by ships, did not fall within his allotment ; 
 and that to gain which he commenced hostilities, 
 and lost his life in the attempt. 
 
 I cannot at all believe that the settlement of Dub- 
 lin as a place of commerce and as a fortified town, 
 can be attributed to the Scandinavian pirates in the 
 ninth century. The Annals of the Four Masters, 
 record the death of St. Beraidh, Abbot of Dublin, 
 under the year 650, and that of Siadhal, Abbot of 
 Dublin, under the year 785. 
 
 The author of the Life of St. Kevin, who wrote 
 more than a thousand years ago, thus speaks of our 
 
 ^Civitas Athcliath est in aquilonali Lagcniensium 
 
 lUiigia, an inland city. 
 
 5. Raiba, an inland city. 
 
 6. Laberos, an inland city. 
 
 7. Makolikon, an inland city. 
 
 8. Another Rhigia, an inland city. 
 
 9. Dounon, an inland city. 
 10. Icmis, an inland city. 
 
 Marcianus Hcracleotcs, who flourished in the 
 third century, and who, as he himself informs us 
 drew up a compendium of the Eleven Books of -Vr- 
 tcmidorus, a geograper who flourished in the 169th 
 
 sibus.' 
 
 ' Tlie city of Athcliath is situate in the northemf 
 region of Leinster, upon a strait of the sea ; it is 
 styled in the Scotic language, Dubh-linn, which 
 signifies Dark Bath. This city is powerful and 
 warlike, and always inhabited by men most hardy 
 in battles, and most expert in fleets.' 
 
 • Mcfiirlin's Antiquitica. This line compofcd of gravel 
 hillN was called EUcir Kiuda. 
 
 t The Kivcr Liffev at this time formed the boundary be- 
 twecu Mcath and Leiuster, and Slealb was not then cou- 
 bidercd a part of Leiuetcr. 
 
 The monk Jocelinc, (wlio wrote about the year 
 1182,) in the G9th chapter of hU Life of St. Patrick, 
 speaks of Dublin as a small village (Pagus exiguus) 
 in the time of that Saint, and introduces him as 
 prophecyiug its future greatness. This prince of 
 legendary writers soon forgets himself, for in the 
 next chapter save one, he introduces St. Patrick 
 into the 'Noble City of Dublin," of which he gives 
 the following florid description, as quoted from n 
 MS. copy of his work, by the great Archbishop 
 Usher : — 
 
 ' Advcnit Patricitis in t'rbem nobilem populo, 
 situ nmoenissimam, concuncntibus man et flumine 
 liiscibus opulentam, eomnicrcii famosam, planitie 
 viridiinte affcctuosam ; glandiferis nemoribus con- 
 sitam, fcrarum lustris circumvallatum ; qua' postea 
 dicta fuit Dublinia. lla'c a convenis Norwagiic in- 
 sularum populis exercitio peritissimis, omni arma- 
 tura munitis, hello fortibus, dapsilibis pace omni 
 regno neccssariis, in fovorcm regis Ilibncrni^ sub 
 Regina fillia Norwagiiu initiata ; in postemm per 
 varias vices, modo rebellis, modo foaderata Regno 
 Hibcmia- extitit.' 
 
 Dr. Lanigan thinks that Joccline's first account 
 of Dublin is the correct one ; but with great defer- 
 ence to the Docter's Icanilng and deep penetration, 
 we beg to observe that it is much more likely that 
 Dublin was a considerable town in St. Patrick"s 
 time than a 'pagus exiguus,' as Ptolemy, who wrote 
 several centuries before that time, calls it a ' city." 
 A poem, (ascribed to Benignus, disciple of St. 
 Patrick, and his immediate successor in the See of 
 Armagh,) preserved in the Books of I.cacan and 
 Ballymotc, partly agrees with Joccline's second ac- 
 count of Dublin. 
 
 It mentions that I.acry, King of Ireland, believed 
 notthe preaching of St. Patrick ; that the saint then 
 directed his course southwards, until he arrived at 
 the fortress of the foreigners, (Diin na n-Gall) that 
 at this time Alpin, the son of Aeil, who was de- 
 scended from Donall Dubhdamhaeh, was king of 
 Athcliath. It then goes on to state, that St. Pat- 
 rick converted the king and inhabitants of Dublin, 
 cursed Lacry, king of Tcmor, and predicted that the 
 Galls (foreigners) of Athcliath, would never be at 
 peace with the kings of Temor, &e. &c. 
 
 I fully concur with Dr. O'Conor, in the opinion 
 that this poem was fabricated a long time after the 
 year 836, when the Northmen first became masters 
 of this city. It is highly probable that it was forged 
 in the 11th century, when a controversy concerning 
 the prunacy arose between the Danes of Dublin and 
 Gildas and Celcus, Archbishops of Armagh. 
 
 The Irish name of Dublin is Baile atha Cliath, or 
 ' The Town at the Pord of the Hurdles," and the 
 name of that part of the river I.iffey on which it is 
 built Duibhlinn, or the ' Black Water."* 
 
 The Book of Dinnseanehus infoi-ms us, that this 
 ford across the river was called Athcliath, or the 
 'Pordof Hurdles," from hurdles of small twigs 
 which the Lagtnians, in the reign of their king 
 Mesgeira, placed across the river for the purpose of 
 conveying the sheep of Athirny -\ilgeascah to Dun- 
 Edair, a fortress on the Hill of Ilowth, where many 
 of the young warriors of Ulster were then stationed. 
 That it should be an inconsiderable town at the 
 English invasion, will appear manifest from the fol- 
 lowing Annals, wherein it will be seen that it was 
 at various times reduced to ashes by the Irish. 
 They are translated from the Ann.als of the Four 
 Masters, and carefully compared with more ancient 
 and authentic annals of Tigheniach. 
 
 • Jf niiy of our readers arc convinced (hot tlie name Dub- 
 lin is compounded of the English words Double-Inn, and 
 some point out the place in n'inetavcrn street wlicre the 
 two luiie that gave name to Ihc city, stood. 
 
 Wc wish to remove this vulgar notion bv tcllinfr them 
 thai it was called Dubh-linn in Irish before the Englifli or 
 even Danes bad oblained anv fool inn here, and that it Is 
 ftill pronounced Divelin Lv the inhabitants of Fiiipall, as 
 (be name appears on the coins of its Danish kings, and 
 called Dinas Dulin, or the city of Dulin by the Welsh, 
 wbicb exactly agreee with the Irish pronunciation. 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 163 
 
 ANNAI.S OF DUBLIN. 
 
 I where Hugh, the son of Dubhdachrioch, abbot of 
 A. D. 166. Ireland -was divivcd into two parts, Tirdaglass and Clonenagh, was taken and led away 
 
 by a line drawn from the eastern to the western 
 Athcliath, between Conn of the Hundred Battles, 
 and ilogha Nuadhat, otherwise called Eogan the 
 Splendid. 
 
 201. Piacha Sraibhtine, monarch of Ireland, 
 quelled the rebellious inhabitants of Leinster, in a 
 battle fought this year at Dublin. 
 
 6a0. Saint Beraidh, abbot of Dublin, died this 
 year. 
 
 From this it appears that there was a monastery 
 established in Dublin at an early period, although 
 not mentioned in the Monasticon Hibernicum. 
 
 765. The Kianacts of Bregia and the Hy-Tegh 
 of Leinster fought a battle this year at Leinster : a 
 great slaughter of the Lagenians ensued, and many 
 of the Kianacts were drowned in the sea. 
 
 7S5. Sladhal, abbot of Dublin, died. Vide 650, 
 supra. OulT annals mention no other abbot of Dub- 
 lin ; the reason is manifest. The barbarous pagans 
 of Scandinavia became masters of the city soon 
 after, and it is not to be supposed that they who 
 lived by robbery and plunder, would allow a num- 
 ber of Irish monks to lead a peaceable life in a city 
 into which they carried all their spoils. 
 
 836. A Norwegian* fleet, consisting of sixty 
 ships, arrived in the Boyne ; and another of the 
 same number in the LifFey ; these two large fleets 
 plundered and laid waste Moy-Liifeyl and Moy- 
 Bra,2 both their churches and houses, flocks and 
 herds. 
 
 The inhabitants of Moy-Bni gave battle to these 
 foreigners at Jlogdorna, in Jloybra, and killed one 
 hundi'ed and twenty of them. 
 
 These Northmen defeated the inhabitants of Meath 
 at Inver-na-mBare, (i. e. the harbor of the ships,) 
 where a most bloody engagement took place ; no 
 Irish chief, however, was killed in this battle. 
 
 In this year all the churches of Lough Erne, 
 Clones, Devenish, Iniskeltra, &c., were plundered 
 and burned by them. Saxoly, their chief, was 
 killed by the Kianacts of Meath, and they were de- 
 feated with great slaughter at Ashroe and Carn- 
 feradh. 
 
 In tliis year they first took and became masters of 
 Dublin. 
 
 810. The Northmen erected a fortress at Linn- 
 duachaill,3 out of which several parties sallied torth 
 to plunder churchee and monasteries ; they pene- 
 trated as far as TciRa, in Jleath, and plundered its 
 churches, and other houses. They erected another 
 fortress at Dublin, out of which they sent parties 
 who plundered Leinster and the territories of the 
 Southern Hy-Nialls, as far as Slieve-Bloom ; on 
 this excursion they carried away both lay and ec- 
 clesiastical property. 
 
 844. The Northmen of Dublin made an incursion 
 into Cluana-an-dobhair, and plundered the fort of 
 Killachaidh, where Disiuadht, the son of Segene, 
 obtained the crown of martyrdom from their sacri- 
 legious hands. They also plundered Dunmask,4 
 
 by these merciless barbarians, into Munster, where 
 they put him to death on tlie 8tli of July. Kethcrn, 
 prior of Kildare, and many others A\'ere slaughtered 
 at the same time. 
 
 815. Tlie Danes of Dublin were defeated with 
 considerable slaughter at Carn-Brammit, by ("ar- 
 roll, the son of Donnelly, cliief of Ossory. In this 
 battle two hiuidred Danes were killed. 
 
 The Dubhgallsarrivedthis year in Dublin, slaugh- 
 tered the Fingalls,5 demolished their fortress, and 
 carried off prisoners and property. 
 
 The Dubhgalls attacked the Fingalls at Linndua- 
 chaill, and made great havoc of them. 
 
 817. Dublin was plundered by Maelseachlaim, 
 the son Mulroney and Tigernach, lord of Loch- 
 Gabhair. Jojin O'Donovan. 
 
 [To be Continued.] 
 
 • These were Nomegians, not Danes : see the year 845 in- 
 fra and note (5) under that j-car. 
 
 1 JIagh-Life or the plain of the LiiTey was that level 
 part of the county of Kildare through which that river 
 wiudsits course. Kilcullen was in it. 
 
 2 Ma"h Brcagh, i. e. the splendid plain, was situated he- 
 tween thcltoyne and the Lill'ey ; it was the eusleru part ol' 
 ancient Meath. 
 
 3 Cathal Maguire. in his annotations upon the (esfioloEv 
 of Aen>!us, informs us that unn-Duachuill wbb Hiluiilcil 
 upon the banks of the Ciuisan-line in Ulster: Cassan-line is 
 
 lied the river Lagan, and X,innduachaill, Magheral- 
 
 iu 
 
 ;bar. 
 
 of low 
 
 Iveagh, county Down. 
 
 4 Now called Dunamase, an isolated rock whereon are to 
 be seen the ruins of a strong fortress, dismantled bv Crom- 
 well. ' 
 
 5 Duald Jlac Firbis, the only pillar and guardian of Iriph 
 anlii|uitics while he lived, and whose death wa* an irrena- 
 rable loss tnanv further improvement in them inloinisns 
 inliis:,cooni,tori)aiii,h familie.sii, Ireland, that bv Fionn- 
 
 by Iiul.h.(,lp 
 Deuniurk (Na 
 
 lidhe, i.e. naNoiwaRia) and 
 
 A TOUR TO CONNAUCHT. 
 
 LETTER I. 
 
 To the Editor of the Dublin Penny Journal:— 
 
 Sir — The prevailing propensity to see oneself in 
 print, urges me to present the following lucubrations 
 and observations, the result of some recent wanderings 
 towards tlie west, in the hope that through you they 
 may reach your readers. Doubtless it requires no 
 small confidence to expect that a journey of a day or 
 two on a coach or jaunting car along what is consid- 
 ered one of the flattest and least interesting hnes of 
 road in Ireland, would enable me to purvey readable 
 matter for a fastidious and well-suppUtd public— but 
 strong in my Milesian assuratiee, aiid fortified with the 
 brass of an O'Toole, (by the way, my ancestors pos- 
 sessed the Cronebawa copper mine,) I will try my 
 hand, and make a trial. 
 
 Blessings on the morning, when escaping out of 
 Dublin through that awfully disgusting purlieu — Bar 
 rack street— we met the cool western breeze as it 
 swept along the Liffey, and advanced to salate the 
 rising sun. Our road ran parallel to the river, and as 
 we drove through its alluvial valley and passed Cha- 
 pelizod, onee the retreat of La Belle Izod, where stood 
 her bower and her chapel, and which was once the 
 country residence of Ireland's viceroys, I could not, 
 laughing philosopher though I may be, suppress a 
 sigh, to see the old house so grievously modernized 
 and deformed, where, it is said, King James slept 
 after the battle of the Boyne. He must have used a 
 pillow stutfed with hops, if he slept soundly on the 
 night after that memorable day. Here is also a huge, 
 disarranged flax spinning manufaetorj', .and large 
 bleaching greens, ugly to the eye, offensive to the 
 nose, redolent of muriatic gas, and other bleaching 
 stuffs. I do not like those immense factories, where 
 the youth of both sexes are crowded for twelve or 
 fourteen hours on spinning lofts, and where the moral 
 malaria is almost as pestilential as the physical. Com- 
 mend me to the old flax-spinning system of Ireland, 
 wliere the lass sat by her father's fire-side, urging her 
 hu.sy wheel, and modulating its monotonous hum by 
 the soft sweet tones of our Irish melodies. Alas, it 
 matters not to my mind that yonder immense pile 
 manufactures as much thread as formerly did the 
 female industry of a whole country. In spite of 
 political economy, my heart cannot but condemn the 
 change. 
 
 Eeaching Palmerstown, we rose from the river, and 
 gained the fertile, undulating champaign that extends 
 southward from the Lilfey to tho Wicklow mountaius. 
 To the right, the deep-cut course of the river, its steep 
 banks adorned and enriched by tho strawberry culti- 
 vation, beyond it again the Plicnix Park, and more to 
 the west, the two beautiful hills of Castleknock, the 
 one a smoothly circular green knoll, whereon the pro- 
 prietor, as a record of his bad taste, has allowed an 
 unmeaning pigeon-house to remain standing for years, 
 and his only excuse is that he is accustomed to its 
 ugliness! the other crowned with its ivy-mantled 
 
 yet that ancient window still remains, of which, say, 
 Stauihurst, 'Though it be neither glazed or latticed, 
 but open, yet let the weather be stormy and the wind 
 bluster boisterously on every side of tho house, and 
 place a candle there, and it will burn as quietly as if 
 no pufl' of wind blew. This may be tried at this day, 
 whoso shall be willing to put it in practice.' 
 
 About two miles farther, we arrived at an eminence 
 from whence extend westward and southward tho 
 plains of the Liffey, (iS in ancient days they were 
 called) and certainly in no part of the British empire 
 can the eye wander over a richer expanse. To the 
 geologist, it is interesting, as everywhere he sees as- 
 surance that before the Liftey had cut down for itself 
 to the sea its present deep and tortuous bed, all before 
 the view, until i. touched the Curragh of Kildare and 
 and the Hill of Allen, must have been a wide spread 
 lake; and when the observer gets down to the deep, 
 dry, circular basin in which the village of Lucan is 
 placed, he may notice the gradual depositions the sub- 
 siding waters made, and at the same time be led to 
 conclude that some final force must have operated in 
 the way of an earthquake to form the rivy's present 
 bed; the force from beneath which has been exerted to 
 cause the disturbance of the strata must have been 
 great, and the extraordinary disarrangement of the 
 limestone stratification on the northern bank of the 
 Liffey is worthy of the attention of the draughtsman or 
 the geologist. 
 
 Not any of England's favored vales — not any of 
 Scotland's earses or straths — can show anything to the 
 farmer's eye finer or more fertile than the view from 
 the hill of Ballydowd. 'Sir,' says a fellow traveller, 
 who had the air of an English bagman, 'what is the 
 name of that there old building to the left? castles, 
 don't you call them? Wherever I go in Ireland I 
 have them in sight.' 'Yes, sir,' I replied, 'You will 
 see them everywhere — yonder one is called Bally- 
 owen; and if you look westward you may see another, 
 and southwards another; and pass on from this to 
 Galway or to Cape Clear, and you will see them cov- 
 ering and commanding, and within signal shot of each 
 other. They stand as memorials of Ireland's differ- 
 ent conquests, and as evidences that when conquered, 
 each subsequent invader considered that what the 
 sword had won, it was needful for the sword to keep. 
 Ireland is the land of ruins and memorials — of powers 
 and people that have successively passed awav. The 
 ruined fortress — the devastated abbey — the lonely dun 
 — the fairy-foooted rath — the round tower that sends 
 its slender shaft on high to s.ay that the almost imper- 
 ishable simplicity of its form can survive human re- 
 cord, and even outlast man's tradition — these are what 
 render Ireland a land interesting to the traveller — and 
 not all the magnificence of America — not all its 
 mighty mountains, lakes, or waterfalls, can supply to 
 the passenger such trains of mental association, such 
 stores of romantic thought, as a few miles wandering 
 through Erin. The castles of Ireland are not only 
 numerous, but of different character. The old mas- 
 sive circular Anglo-Norman — the square and more 
 regularly bastioned stronghold of the Elizbethan era — 
 the more simple and solitary fortalice of the Cromwel- 
 lian adventurer, who cased himself within his strait 
 four walls like an armadillo or a hedgehog, to look 
 out in security on his newly acquired grant; and save 
 his soul alive from the skeius of marauding rappa- 
 rees. 
 
 We passed on then through Lucan. On one side 
 the richly wooded demesne of Colonel Vesey, onee 
 the castle and estate of General Sarsfield; to the right 
 and just on tho roadside is the Spa-hou.se, apparently 
 a well kept and well resorted hotel, creditable to the 
 owner, and in some respects a proof that were such 
 accommodations as are here found, to be met with in 
 other places, Irish families would stay at home, and 
 rest satisSed with our own spa's, and the salt ablutions 
 of our own sea shores. Just below the hotel, and on 
 le other si<lc of the road by the river's bank is the 
 inpregnattd as strongly, jierhnps, as any other 
 
 nnaigU the juhabitunts of '^"s'''^. where the Bruce, some centuries ago, halted his natqrnl spring, with earbonaie of lime and sulphureted 
 army, when advancing to besiege Dublin, and where I nitrogen gas. That modification of limestoue, by 
 
164 
 
 IIUSII MISCELLANY. 
 
 Kirwan anil other minunUogists called cnipe, is very 
 uljiiiiilnut ill tliu iivi^liliorliood, itiul iis it coiilnins a 
 liti'^o i|uuulilv u( dir>.scnlia!C(l siilpliurot of iron doubt- 
 less it is tlio dccoiU|>osition of litis sulphnrct l>y wntcr, 
 that causes tlio impri'gmuious of this spii. Tlioro, as 
 at llarrowfjiitc, citizous wlio, because tliey wore Rood 
 livers have now bad iivors, hope to have tlieir vieenU 
 obstructions removed, and Connnu;;ht S(|uires, whoso 
 noses lire rubicund with the red juices of tho prape 
 and tlie limjiid distillations of John IJiirleycorn, lind 
 t!ie roses removing from tlio unseemly position on 
 their noses, and retiring to the more natural and nevin- 
 ly siulion of their checks. 
 
 Any one passing over the bridge of lA'ixlip must, if 
 his eye is worth n farthing for any thing else than 
 helping him to pick his way through the puddle, look 
 up and down with delight while moving over this 
 bridge. To the right, tho river winning its noisy, 
 turbulent way over its rocky bed, and losing itself afar 
 down amidst embossing woods; to the left, after 
 plunging over the salmon-leap, whose roar is heard 
 though hiUf a mile oil', and forming n junction with 
 tlio Kye-watcr, it takes a bend to tho east, and washes 
 the rich amphitheatre with which Leixlip is environed. 
 1 question much whether any castle, even Warwick 
 itself, stands in a grander position than Leixlip Castle, 
 ns it embattles the high and wooded ground that fonns 
 llie forks of the two rivers. Of the towers, tho round 
 one, of course was built by King Jolin, the opposite 
 square one by the Geraldines. Tlis noble and grand- 
 ly circumstanced pile has been in later days tho baro- 
 nial residence of tho White family, and subsequently 
 the residence of generals and prelates, llero Primate 
 Stone, more a politician than a Christian, retired from 
 his contest with tho I'onsonby's and the Boylcs, to 
 play at crickets with General Cunningham; hero re- 
 sided Speaker Conolly, before he built his S])lendid 
 mansion at Castletown; here the great commoner, as 
 he was called, Tom Connolly was born. Like many 
 such edifices this easile is haunted — character and 
 keeping would be altogoiher lost, if towers of 600 
 years sUnding, with rich muUioned 'windows that ex- 
 clude the light, and passages that lead to nothing,' 
 with tapestried chambers that have witnessed pranks 
 of revelry, and feats of war, of Norman, Cromwellian 
 and Wiliiamitc possession— if such a place had not its 
 legend. Mr. Folds, you may as well give it some 
 week or another a place in your journal; you will find 
 it in one of tho annuals, I forgot which; and one of 
 Ireland's wildest geniuses, the eccentric and splouded 
 Maturin, has decorated the subject with the colorings 
 of his vivid fancy. 
 
 LcLxlip is memorable in a historic point of view, as 
 tho place where, in the war commencing 1G41, Gene- 
 ral Preston halted, when on his way to form a junc- 
 tion with the Slarquis of Ormond, to oppose the Par- 
 liamentarians. Acknowledging that his army was not 
 excommunication proof, he bowed down before the 
 fiat of the Kuncio, and lost the best opportunity that 
 ever olftr-id of saving his cause and his country from 
 what has been called 'the curse of Cromwell." Rising 
 out of Leixlip the road leaves the line of the Litlev, 
 and runs parallel to the small stream of the Kve- 
 water, over which is thrown, at an immense expense, 
 the largest acqueduct in Ireland, constructed by the 
 Royal Canil Company; it is said that this enormous 
 cost was gone into in compliment to the late Duke of 
 Leinstcr, who desired that the canal should pais bv 
 his town Maynooth; it certainly would have beeii 
 more advantageous to the commerce of tho kingdom 
 and to tho prosperity of tlio company, had they not 
 deflected here to the lonth, but rather kept northwards 
 through the plains of Mcalh made Lough Sheelan in- 
 stead of Lough Owel their summit level, and met the 
 Shannon more towards its source, rather than run 
 their line parallel, as it now docs, at only a few miles 
 distance from the Grand Canal, each starving and in- 
 terfering with the other, and acting like two rival 
 shopkeepers who, instead of setting up at remote dis- 
 tricts of the town, frown balefuUy at each other from 
 opposite sides of the street. 
 
 Just beneath the bridge that caiTied the road over 
 
 tho canal is one of tho most beautiful nnd abundant 
 spring wells in liclniid — if it was known in old times 
 it would have been suuctificd, ns most such arc in Ire- 
 land — but it burst out for the first time from the 
 depths of tho earth, on tho excavation of tho canal; 
 and as it was discovered in winter, nnd ns its deep 
 seated socrce caused it to appear warmer than other 
 more superficial springs, so immediately there were 
 attributed to it virtues of no ordinary degree, nnd the 
 crowds that in faith (for the Irish are rich in that car- 
 ilinal virtue.) resorted to it \vcro enormous. While 
 tho credulity lasted, the harvest of coach and noddy 
 owners (for jaunting-cars were not yet fashion,) was 
 immense; strings of carriages, miles long, might be 
 seen on Sunday, issuing from Dublin, containing 
 crowds anxious to apply, internally or extenuiUy, its 
 healing waters; and attestations of its curing tho blind 
 — restoring the palsied — strengthening the lame, came 
 before the public every day. But alas, the powers of 
 ridicule were brought to bear against it, and one 
 wicked wight drew a caricature in which he repre- 
 sented a broken down noddy as washed by tho Leixlip 
 spa water, and all its spokes and shafts, under the 
 mopping of tho jarvey, becoming strong and strait. 
 This certainly was a pity; and no one in the world 
 was served by dissipating such an innocent and salu- 
 tary delusion, and after all it is not only a beautiful 
 but an extraordinary spring; for if you believe all the 
 neighbors, not a fish or frog will live in its waters; 
 and though there is a fioculent, rusty-colored, ochrc- 
 ous matter constantly rising to the surface of the well, 
 exactly similar to that which is foimd in springs 
 strongly impregnated with iron, yet no test, either 
 gallic acid or prussiate of potash, can detect any iron; 
 but in the centre of this fioculent matter is found a 
 very red little worm about half an inch long, which 
 all those who have still faith in the salubrity of the 
 well say is the sovrcigncst remedy alive for a sore leg; 
 nay more, let any one who has drank over night from 
 tifteen to twenty tumblers of punch, nnd whose head 
 is so hot that it makes the water fizz into which it is 
 put, let him but take a quart or two of the water of this 
 pring on the following morning, and he will lose all 
 his whiskey fever and walk homo as cool as a cucum- 
 ber. I assure you, gentle reader, I have seen sundry 
 making the experiment, and I actually saw them after- 
 wards sober. 
 
 And now wo arrive at tho demesne of Ireland's only 
 duke — a demesne, according to the exclusive propen- 
 sities of all those who have this world's wealth — 
 walled about with a skrcen of trees, through which the 
 eye of a curious traveller has no chance of penetrat- 
 ing. To the left rises an obelisk, built about a centu- 
 ry ago, in that remarkable season in Ireland called the 
 hard frost, by a lady of the Connolly family, in order 
 to employ the people. Those things are all called 
 follies in Ireland; to give such things such names, 
 only nrguos poor taste and sense in those who bestow 
 them; would there were many such evidences in the 
 land that tho rich eared for the poor. Beyond that 
 obelisk, southward, extend tho rich wooded grounds, 
 and rises the finest country mansion in Ireland — Cas- 
 tletown — once tho estate of Dungan, Earl of Limerick 
 — the house, built by S])eaker Connolly, and present- 
 ing, perhaps, the most chaste and appropriate facade 
 for a rich man's residence in existence. There the 
 great commoner, .is he was called, Thomas Connolly, 
 the son of the Speaker, found an income of £30,000 a 
 year too small for the purposes of his expenditure; 
 I here were estates wasted and encumbered in keeping 
 up of huntings and racings — in afl^jrding sport to a 
 whole country, and lavishing of hospitality on all that 
 would partake of it; so much to, that (as the legend 
 goes) ho once afl^anlcd a day's hunting nnd a night's 
 entertainment to the devil, who proved himself the 
 most entertaining companion and prettiest gentleman 
 of the party. 
 
 Just as our vehicle w.is passing along at this point 
 of tlio road, we observed a heavy smoke brooding over 
 tho woods of Castletown, and tho guard informed us 
 that it arose from the smouldering remnants of a fire 
 that liad taken place the night before in the Celbridge 
 
 Wollen Factory, when a largo but partial destruction 
 of property had occurred. 'Ireland certainly is unfor- 
 tunate,' says I, ' in its manufacturing adventures. 
 This, tlie largest factory in the island, was estab- 
 lished about twenty-eight years ago by a company 
 from Leeds, and I question much whether that qniet 
 and pretty village has been happier or better ofl' dur- 
 ing the vicissitudes of prosperity and adversity, of 
 employment and non-employment that have since oc- 
 curred.' 'Then, sir,' says the English bagman, 'it 
 would seem hat you do not like manutactures; you 
 seem disposed to prefer Hirish poverty to British 
 prosperity. 'By no means, sir; I would perhaps de- 
 sire that our country should have manufactures estab- 
 lished in its towns, and machinery driven by the power 
 of its rivers, provided I saw a good system of poor 
 laws also introduced; but I decidedly deprecate tho 
 introduction of any such s|)eculations unaccompanied 
 with some protection of the poor from the effects of 
 their own improvidence, the lluctualions of trade, and 
 the speculations of their betters. The vicissitudes 
 that yonder establishment have undergone, might 
 serve for tho manufacturing story of all Ireland. It 
 did not prosjjcr with the original speculators, who 
 found that the easy terms on which they hud acquired 
 a great water power, and tho cheapness of Irish labor, 
 did not compensate for the expense of fuel and tho 
 difliculties of obtaining trained laborers nnd men edu- 
 cated nj) to trustworthiness. I knew the worthy indi- 
 vidual whose property it was for many years, and he 
 often explained and deplored to mo the difliculties 
 with which he had to contend. If ever there existed 
 an Englishman who feelingly adopted Ireland as his 
 country, and had deeply at heart its prosperity as 
 identified villi his own, it was Jeremiah Iliiughton; 
 and while giving the energies of his honest and intelli- 
 gent mind towards tho promotion of the interests of 
 the Irish woollen manufacture, and eventually falling 
 a premature victim to his exertion in its cause, he has 
 often deplored to me that tho spirit of combination — 
 the want of common trustworthiness and habits of 
 steady and persevering industry, coupled with a want 
 of a proper and protecting system of poor laws, must 
 over disable Ireland from competing with England. 
 Tho fact is, as ho assured me, that the abundance of 
 cheap and common labor could never compensate to 
 the capitalist settling in Ireland for the want of those 
 able nnd steady handcraftsmen which the principle of 
 parochial settlement always provides, ready to meet 
 the demand of all who wish to engage them. After 
 Mr. Haugliton's demise the factory remained some 
 time out of work, when many of the good hands that 
 could aflbrd the money returned to England, while all 
 the bad and coarse ones remained behind; then the 
 establishment fell into the possession of an expcjt 
 swindler, who contrived to hold it just long enough to 
 rob tho rich and beggar the poor; it was deplorable to 
 sec hundreds of weavers wandering in the vicinity, 
 bogging for a morsel of bread from door to door. 
 Bettor had it been for Celbridge that no wool had over 
 been carded, or shuttle thrown, than have its iiihabi- 
 tiints submitted to snch vicissitudes. Grieviously have 
 they sull'ered, and grievously do they siifler — for chol- 
 era has come where improvidence, whiskey drinking 
 and poverty have invited it. Very lately a spirited 
 Englishman has taken the concern, and commenced 
 business and emiiloyment actively and with eli'ect; and 
 it is a grievous thing to find that this individual at the 
 outset of his adventure, should have to contend with 
 a conflagration that has injured a large wing of his 
 factory. 
 
 We have now, Jlr. Folds, given but nine miles; if 
 on feeling tho pulse of the public you find they have 
 patience for such gossip, you may hear more next 
 week from 
 
 Your very faithful 
 
 Friend to command, 
 
 Teuexce O'Toolb. 
 
 "Why is a melancholy young lady the plcasant- 
 cst of all companions ? Because she is always 
 a-musing. 
 
IRISH fflSCELLANY. 
 
 165 
 
 HOW TO TELL A STORY. 
 
 To the Editor of the Dublin Penny Joumnl. 
 
 Sir — Of all story-tellers, commend mo to nn 
 Irishman ! There is a rouiichiess and a fullness in 
 his brogue — a twinkling liumor in his eye — a rich- 
 ness and a raciness in every -word she utters, which 
 renders him the glory of a social circle, the very 
 heart-strings and life-blood of merriment ! I pre- 
 sume all your readers have seen the caricature of the 
 Scotchman, the Englishman, and the Irishman ad- 
 miring the pretty girl in the mercer's shop, and all 
 anxioiis to have a chat with her. They must all 
 have read tlie humorous anecdote of the experiment 
 beuig tried which of the representatives of the 
 three nations would give the best answer to the 
 proposition to stand all night naked, during a storm, 
 on the sop of a steeple. John's ideas of the thing 
 centred in his belly — give him bread, cheese, and 
 ale, and a certain sum, and he woiild ' try the job." 
 Sandy, with his usual caution, looked over his 
 shoulder, and instead of saying what he world take, 
 inquired, ' '\^^lat will ye gie us ?' But Paddy, 
 ready-witted Paddy, replies, ' Take ! take ! what 
 would I take, is it ? Airah, I'd take a very great 
 cowld.' 
 
 Sitting one night, lately, in company wiSi Scotch- 
 men, Englishmen, and Irishmen, a dispute arose 
 whether the Irish brogue or Scotch patois was best 
 adopted for telling a story. This, of course, led to 
 a very animated introductory discussion, in which 
 it was admitted that the Doric dialect of thd Scotch 
 had been rendered classical by the great writers who 
 have introduced it into their works, or made it the 
 yeheele of conveying their ideas ; and of course. 
 Burns, Gait, the Ettrick Shepherd, and among oth- 
 ers, the mighty 'magician of the north,' he, alas, 
 whose death W'ill long be mourned by all lovers of 
 genius — Sir AValter Scott — were duly honored. But 
 the pride of an Englishman was roused ; he volun- 
 tereed to tell a story of his own as humorous as any 
 an Irishman or a Scotchman could tell ; and he thus 
 began : 
 
 ' Why,' says he, ' one dark aud stormy night I 
 found mj'self in the town of Paisley, the region of 
 shawls and pullicates, and other woven commodi- 
 ties. The house of ' entei-tainment for man and 
 beast,' into which I had the horor of being re- 
 ceived, was graced by the presence of a little red- 
 haired fellow, who from being weaver had turned 
 waiter, and certainly there was more of the loom 
 than of the bar about him. 
 
 ' Hallo, waiter,' says I, w-hat have you got in this 
 here house r' 
 
 ' AVhat's your wull, sir 5' 
 
 ' Wool, wool, zotmds, sirrah, do you take me for 
 a wool-seller, a sheep, or a negro ?' 
 
 ' I was just speering, sir, what your wuU was,' 
 replied little earrotty, with all due humility. 
 
 'AATiat's my will ; Why what's that to you — do 
 you want a legacy? Come, get supper, su-rah,' says 
 I ; and seeing ho w he was an ignorant Scotch lump 
 uf a fellar, and didn't know nothing, I determined 
 to have a little sport with him. So when he came 
 in again, says I, 'prav, my little fellow, what's 
 o'clock' 'It will be half ten, sir,' he replied. 'Half 
 ten, sirrah ; is it but five ?' ' No, sir, it's half an 
 hour from ten.' ' And what is half an hour from 
 ten i Is it half an hour after nine, or half an hour 
 past ten r' ' I only meant to say it will bo half an 
 hour after nine.' ' 
 
 ' Asy, my darling,' said an Irishman in company, 
 ' maybe your thravels have been printed afore ; or 
 you've helped youi-self to a leaf from Captain 
 Grose.' ' 'Pon my honor, this here adventure did 
 happen to me ; and if it didn't may I never stir on 
 more from this here spot.' ' Never mind it, my 
 dear; but take an Irishman's ad-\-ice. When you 
 tell a story, invint, but never borrow ; when you 
 ■write, let your pen be a diamond, and use the sun 
 for an ink-buttle ; och, my je^\■el, invintion is the 
 
 thing ! I'll tell you a story that will jgst give you 
 a bit of an idea of what I mean. 
 
 ' Once upon a iime,' said Paddy, and his face was 
 lightened with a smile, ' once upon a time, my dar- 
 lings, and it's not very long ago, an Irishman, and 
 a friend of my own, took it into his head that he 
 would leave his master dear, and try a better coiui- 
 try. I do not mean to say that a better country 
 there is under the whole face of heaven ; but times 
 are bad, and many a dacent man thinks he might 
 get a better bit and sup by emigration, than he can 
 get in his own dear country. His master sent for 
 him, and he says, mighty sharp, ' Well, Thady, 
 what's this I hear about you r' 
 
 ' ' Och, my jewel, you can hear nothing about 
 me but myself, and I'm not speaking.' 
 
 ' ' But you are going away, Thady, you arc going 
 aw-ay, they say.' 
 
 ' ' You may say that, sir, for I'm two stone light- 
 er than when I came to you-' 
 
 ' ' But what's taking you away, Thady ?' 
 
 ' ' Just my own feet and legs, dear ! 
 
 ' ' You are very short with me this morning, 
 Thady.' 
 
 ' • AVhy, then, I think I'm as long as I was yes- 
 terday. But, master dear, I'm going to Amerikay, 
 to get a bit o' land for myself and Judy, and where 
 we'll can get praties for the childer just for the dig- 
 ging, and have a sweet little cabin of our own, far 
 in the woods, and the never a morsel o' rint to pay !' 
 
 'But, Thady, are you not afraid of the blackamoor 
 wild Indians that live in the woods? They will come 
 down some dark night and tomahawk you.' 
 
 'Afraid! is it an Irishman afraid? They tummy- 
 hawk me! There's not a man among them all could 
 play long bullets with my brother Phelemy, and show 
 me one o' them could touch me at the first fifteen! 
 But sure, master dear, I would not know one o' them 
 from Adam when I seen them.' 
 
 'Oh, Thady, they are wild-looking black rascals, 
 and you had better stay at home than venture among 
 them.' 
 
 'Stay at home, is it? Arrah, my dear, poor Thady 
 has no home to go to, for the landlord put poor Judy 
 out for three and sixpence, and now I'll stay no 
 longer here. Och! sweet Mulligan, sweet Mulligan, 
 and [lie days o' my youth, when I was fed like a light- 
 ing-cock, and Judy was my darling, and the world 
 was light and easy on us! It was then that we had 
 the great big noggins o' broth for dinner, instead o' 
 the crabbed, pock-marked praties tliai; the pigs in Mul- 
 lingar wouldn't eat, and butter-milk as tliin and sour 
 as crame o' thartar! Farewell, master dear, and may 
 God Almighty be wid yees all!' 
 
 'So over the salt seas poor Tliady went, and Judy, 
 that never had been on the rowling ocean before, now 
 saw nothing at all at all for weeks but tlie green sea 
 and blue sky. Och, but it's myself could discouse 
 about the sea and the sky; how the whales, and the 
 dolphins, and the sharks rowie in the water, and the 
 pretty stars, and the moon, and the sun look down 
 upon the coral beds at tlie bottom of the sea, and when 
 the wind begins to blow like mad, and the waves go 
 up, and tlien go down, and the sails are torn into 
 shreds with a noise like thunder, and the masts go by 
 the board, and there's ten feet water in the hold, and 
 the ship is sucked down into the bubbling sea, and just 
 before it goes down, men, women, and children send 
 np one dreadful scream that rises above the blast, and 
 pierces the very gate of heaven! There's description 
 for you! 
 
 'But Thady arrived safe in Quebec, with Judy and 
 the children, and then ofl" they trudged into the woods 
 to trj' and get a liit of land to settle on. Some Irisli 
 neiglibors helped him to get up a cabin to shelter the 
 family, and ho says to one of them — 'Where do thim 
 blackamoor ncgur Indians live that I heerd about in 
 our own country?' 
 
 'Och, bcyant there in the woods.' 
 
 'And Corny, tell me, have you ever sceu any o. 
 thenU' 
 
 'Seen them! To be sure X have; there's scores o' 
 them in tlie woods, black, ugly devils they are !' 
 
 'And what mal<c3 them black, Corney ? Sure, 
 couldn't the dirty craturcs keep themselves Christi.au 
 white?' 
 
 'It's the climate, tliey say, but what that climate is 
 myself doesn't know. Something they rulj on them 
 when they are young.' 
 
 'The dirty heathen brutes! But sure they must 
 have the stuff plenty among them. I wisJi we had 
 some of it, and I would rub little Barney with it, for 
 an experiment.' 
 
 'Prom that day forward, Thady was very eager to 
 see a blackamoor Indian. One day roaming the woods 
 with his hatchet in his hand, he saw a quare-looking 
 trout reclining at his ease on the green sod. Thady 
 was sure he liad now clapped his eyes on one of them, 
 and coming up, 'Musha,' says he, 'bud I never seen 
 one of your sort afore — why, man, you'll get your 
 death o' cowdd lying there.' 
 
 'The wild man of the woods looked u.p 'Queen o' 
 glory, what a nose! They may talk o' Loughey Pud- 
 aghen's nose, but by the powers, your nose beats the 
 the noses of all the Pudaghens put together! Get up, 
 like a good fellow; I've an odd tester left, and if there 
 was a shebeen near, I'd give you a snifterer.' 
 
 The quare chap did get up, but ray jewel, he ap- 
 peared disposed to try a fall with Thady. 
 
 'And is it for wrestling you are? Cushendall for 
 that — but stop, agrah, you grip too tight — take j'our 
 fist out o' my shoulder, or I'll h.ave an unfair hoult o' 
 youl Oh! bad luck to you and the taylor that made 
 your clothes, he has left no waistband on your Ijrecches 
 — oh murder, murder, you're the jewel of a squeezer!' 
 
 But Thady contrived to get his tobacco knife out, 
 and gave him a prod in the right place, and do^in he 
 fell, to rise no more. 
 
 'Oh, murder, murder, I've kilt one of them black.i- 
 moor blackguards! I'll be hanged — och, why did I 
 leave ould Ireland! Poor Judy and the childer will 
 see me die an unnathral death for this blackamoor 
 thief. Och hone, och hone! what will I do — what will 
 I do?' 
 
 A neighbor in the woods came up. 
 
 'And what ails you, Thady, you roar like a bull in 
 a bog.' 
 
 'Och, och, hut I'm a sorrowful man this blessed 
 day! 1 just gave one o' them thieves a prod, and 
 there he is.' 
 
 'Meacy on us, Thady, that's a bear, that ten mea 
 couldn't kill!' 
 
 'Musha, is that a bear? By the powers, I'll drop 
 them to you for a tester the dozen.' Nobody. 
 
 CuRRAN — One morning, at an inn in the south 
 of Ireland, a gentleman travelling upon mercantile 
 business, came running down stairs a few minutes 
 before the appearance of the stage coach, in which 
 he had taken a seat for Dublin. Seeing an ugly lit- 
 tic fellow leaning against the door post, with dirty 
 face and shabby clothes, he hailed hii'n and ordered 
 liim to brush bis coat. The operation proceeding 
 rather slowly, the impatient traveller cursed the la- 
 zy valet for an idle, good-for-nothing dog, and 
 threatened hinr with corporal punishment on the 
 spot, if he did not make haste and finish his job 
 well before the arrival of the coach- Terror seemed 
 to produce its effect ; the fcUow brushed the coat 
 and then the trowsers, with great dilligence, and 
 was rewarded with sixpence, which he received 
 with a low bow. The gentleman went into the bar, 
 and paid his bill, just as the expected vehicle reached 
 the door. Upon getting inside, guess his astonish- 
 ment to find his friend the quondram waiter, seated 
 snugly in one corner, with all the look of a person 
 well used to comfort. After two or three hurried 
 glances, to be sure that his eyes did not deceive him, 
 he commenced a confused apology for his blunder, 
 condemning his own rashness and stujiidity — but 
 he was speedily interrupted by the other exclaim- 
 ing, ' Oh, never mind, make no apologies — these are 
 hard times, and it is well to earn a trifle in an hon- 
 est way — I am much obliged for your handsome fee 
 !or so small a job — my name, sir, is John Philpot 
 CuiTan, pray what is yours?' The other was thun- 
 derstruck by the idea of such an introduction ; but 
 the drollery of ('urran soon overcame his confusion; 
 and the traveller never rejoiced loss at the termina- 
 tion of a long jouniey, than when he beheld the 
 dist.-int spires of Dublin glitter iu the light of the 
 setliii;: .sun. 
 
IGG 
 
 Il'JSll MISCELLANY. 
 
 Thongh hent is derived, in combustion, from the 
 oxvjjcn tin, ihe dcriv«:ion of lijiht is not so evident. 
 It lias bfcn fur a Ion? limo supposed that this element 
 
 of using them — says, ' They grasp about the middle, 
 heavy spears, whicli they do not hold pendant at their 
 sides nnder their arms, hut hurl them with all their 
 
 is also one of the conipumnis of oxyj^n gas; but the , stren^;lh over their heads ;' and we iniiy form some 
 obsen-ations made respecting the llyht yielded by! idea of the prodi^ioHS forco whi(h eitlier custom or 
 several bodies when they are 6li;;hlly heated, or even i physiciil force enabled them to throw it, when Harris 
 spontaneously, and that somo of them yield much I in his llibernica, mentions — ' That no haubcrgcon, or 
 more Unlit than others, seems to prove that light J coat of mail, was proof against their foice, but were 
 forms a component principle of most bodies, and that pierced through on both sidts.' 
 it is evolved frc.m the combustible. It is likely, how- ; If Teicnco O'Toole docs not give you any further 
 
 ever, that part of it at least may be derived from oxy- 
 gen gas. J. Getty. 
 Ballymcna. 
 
 NATIONAL EMBLEMS. 
 
 To the Editor of the Dublin i'oiiny Journal : — 
 
 Sir : — As your correspondent, Tenence ll'Toolc, 
 has not as yet described that part of your emblematic 
 engraving relating to Irish armor, I think a few ex- 
 tracts from works of Irish antlquarl.in research on that 
 subject, may not in the mean time be mal apropos. As I 
 see a cuirass in the frontispiece, I shall begin with Mr. 
 Walker's observations on the ancient defensive armor 
 of this country — he says, ' it would seem that body ar- 
 iii" f any kind was unknown to the Irish previous to 
 the lOlh century, king JIurkertach in that ccnturj-, 
 obtaioing the aciiiiious name of Murkertach na Geo- 
 chall Croceann, for so obvious an invention as the 
 leathern jacket,' — and although poets of the middle 
 ages describe the heroes of Olsln as shining In polished 
 steel, no relic of that sort of armor has escaped the 
 wreck of time in Ireland — and yet it is rather curious 
 that coats of mall arc mentioned in the Brehon laws, 
 as the word mail is supi)0sed to be derived from the 
 Irish Mala. It is quite certain, however, that on the 
 first Invasion of the English, no sort of defensive ar- 
 mor except the shield or target formed part of the 
 paraphernalia of an Irish warrior. If they had been 
 placed on any sort of an equality with their invaders, 
 I flatter myself my countrymen would have kept their 
 enemies longer at bay than, from their comparatively 
 defenceless state, they were enabled to do. Smyth 
 tells us ' that corslets of pure gold were found on the 
 lands of Clonties in the county of Kerry,' but these 
 were probably left there by the Spaniards, who had, 
 ' a fordfieation called Fort del Ore, adjoining those 
 lands.' The shield of the ancient Irish w.a3 generally 
 formed of wickerwork, but in many of the old poems 
 we find the chiefs furnished not only with shields of 
 burnished steel, but even those embossed with gold — 
 and in the oM poem of the Chase, the son of Jlomi 
 is represented with a golden one ; but whether or not 
 these were taken from a foreign enemy, c;innot now bo 
 determined. 
 
 It appears from some coins dug up In the Queen's 
 County, in 1786, that helmets must have been in use 
 previous to the 10th century, but how long, must also 
 be a matter of conjecture. Mr. Walker mentions a 
 golden helmet dug up in the county TIpperary ; he 
 
 information, I will return to the charge. 
 
 Tub Ghost of Brian BoBoinME. 
 
 WHISKEY. 
 
 To some of our readers at least, we believe ' '\\niis- 
 kcy ' will be an article to which they will make no 
 objection. AVe have already supplied them with a 
 taste ill some of our former number, and we now 
 present them with another which we believe will 
 not be found interior in quality, and wlucli has been 
 distilled by a genuine Irishman — Mr. Donovan the 
 Chemist. In less ambiguous language — it is ex- 
 tracted from his admirable and useful book, ' Do- 
 mestic Economy,' which constitutes the 3d. volume 
 of Dr. Lardner's Cabinet Cyclopaedia. 
 
 At what period the art of distillation was intro- 
 duced into Britain is not certainly known ; it is 
 commonly believed to have taken place during the 
 reign of Ilenrj- II. It would appear that in Ireland 
 the practice of obtaining a spirit from malt wa.s bet- 
 ter understood, even at the earliest period of the 
 invention, than elsewhere. In the Irish language 
 the spirit was called X.'isgc-beatha or I'squebah. 
 iloryson, who was secretary to Lord Mountjoy, 
 during the rebellion in Ireland of the Earl of Ty- 
 rone, wrote a history of Ireland, including the period 
 between 1.599 and ICO.'J, which in many respects is 
 one of the grossest libels that ever dehled the page 
 of history ; in this he nevertheless gives the follow- 
 ing account. — 'At Dublin, and in some of the cities 
 (of Ireland,) they have taverns, wherein Spanish 
 and French wines are sold ; but more commonly the 
 merchants .sell them by pints and quarts in their own 
 cellars. The Irish aqua vitse, vulgarly called us- 
 quebagh, is held the best in the world of that kind, 
 which is also made in England, but nothing so 
 good as that which is brought out of Ireland. And 
 the usqucbagh is preferred before our aqua vita', 
 because the mingling of raisins, fennel-seed, and 
 other things, mitiirating the heat, and making the 
 taste pleasant, makes it less inflame, and yet refresh 
 the weak stoiuach with moderate heat and good 
 relish. These drinks the English-Irish drink large- 
 i ly, and in many families (especially at feasts) both 
 men and women use excess therein :' — ' neither have 
 they any beer made of malt and hops, nor yet any 
 ale ; no, not the chief lords, except it be very rare- 
 ly.' — ' But when they come to any market town to 
 sell a ear or horse, thev never return home imtil 
 
 descrilics it as resembling in fom a huntsman's cap, 
 with the leaf in front, divided equally and elevated, ^^'"i' ^^'''"'^ '^''^ «'"= P"'-''-' "> ^pnn'sh wine (which 
 and the scull encompassed with a ribbon of gold crimp- ^'''^J' '^•'" "^<= ^'"S °^ '^P''''"'^ daughter,) or in Irish 
 ed. (N. B. some of these relics of ould ancient times i ^'squcbagh, and until they have outslcpt two or 
 mignt be useful in Donnybrook Fair in more eases [ ^^'"^ ''''J*' 'Irunkcnness.' The latter passages prove 
 than on« now.) They are sometimes mentioned by the ; ''°"'*' ^'"'"^ ^'''^ writer was disposed to praise any 
 poet as studded with precious stones ; but these arc I ''""B ^'^^^^' '>""' P™'*'' ^""^ undeserved. 
 
 bulcnan, llutty tells us, wos made from black oats. 
 Buille, madness, and ceann, the head, intimate the 
 effects of this fiery spirit. 
 
 Having now sketched an account ot the introduc- 
 tion and use of intoxicating liquors, as far as the 
 few annals preserved have furnished materials for 
 it, as a proper sequel we may notice the consequen- 
 ces of indulgence in these in.sidious poisons. For- 
 tunate, indeed, were it for mankind, if the history 
 could truly terminate with an account of their intro- 
 duction, and if there were nothing to be added to 
 complete the subject. But a di.smal picture remains 
 to be exhibited of the effects of excessive indulgence. 
 It is the more to be lamented that the power which 
 these stimuli possess over the intellectual enonoiny 
 should be turned to such bad account, when, 
 under proper restrictions, they might have been 
 made conducive to real benefits. From them, right- 
 ly administered, the affiicted in mind or body might 
 receive comfort, the desponding might be inspired 
 with hope, and the melancholy elevated into joy. 
 But the limits of moderation are easily surpassed. 
 He who experiences these advantages does not al- 
 ways rest satisfied with their reasonable enjoyment ; 
 the cup of bliss continues to be quaffed, but the in- 
 fused poison throws round him its magic spell. In- 
 nocent hilarity gives place to mischievous mirth ; 
 good humor and benevolence are converted into 
 causeless quarrel anel vindictive rage ; the faculties 
 of the man arc only recognisable by their perversion ; 
 and fortunate for him is it if the progress of crime 
 is arrested by the death-like profundity of apoplec- 
 tic sleep. How unenviable are his awaking mo- 
 ments ! — memory confused with obscure recollec- 
 tions of insult received anel outrage committed ; the 
 body exhausted and oppressed ; anel the mind har- 
 assed with the terrors of a remorse-stricken con- 
 science. Amidst the repetition of those practices, 
 the springs of health arc dried up ; an appalling 
 train of eliseases elerange the functions of the body ; 
 the withered frame wastes down into sepulchral 
 tenuity ; the grave closes on the victim, and he is 
 reraemberbed only with the contemptuous jiity of 
 mankind. 
 
 supposed to have been taken from foreigners. Some 
 of their swords, however, of native manufacture are 
 well known to have bad hilts of gold, very richly or- 
 namented with jewels. The hilts of these arc of a 
 variety of shapes, the cross hilts, however, prevail. 
 The battle-axe was a vcrj- favorite weapons with the 
 
 Sir James AVare supposes that ardent spirit was 
 distilled in Ireland earlier than in England. He 
 says, ' the English aqua vita-, it is thouglit is the in- 
 vention of more modern times. Yet we find the us- 
 quebagh anel a receipt for making it, both sunple 
 and compound, in the red book of Ossory compiled 
 
 Irish, Cambrcnsis describes the manner of using it, he i "^^orly ^^'° hundred years ago ; and another receipt 
 
 says — ' they make use of but one hand when thev 
 strike, and extend the thumb along the handle, to guide 
 the blow, from which neither the crested helmet can 
 defend the head, or the Iron folds of the armor, the 
 
 for making a liquor, then called nectar, made of a 
 mi.xture of honey and wine, to which arc added 
 ginger, pepper, cinnamon, and other ingredients.' 
 Dr. Ledwieh obscnes, that the early French poets 
 
 body ; whence it has happened sometimes, that the ] speak of this nectar with rapture, as being most de- 
 whole thigh of a soldier, though cased in well temper- Heious. The Irish elistillcd spirits from malt in lj90, 
 ed steel, hath been lopped off at a single blow of the and imitated foreign liqueurs, by aelding aromatic 
 axe.' The spear was also a weapon in very general i seeds and spices, as was practised in France, so 
 nse, and Stanihurst is his descriptiem of their manner ' early, aecoreling to le Grand, in 1313. The Irish 
 
 COMBUSTION. 
 
 Combustion signifies a Inirning, or the decomposi- 
 tion of certain substances culled combustibles, ace'om- 
 panled with light and heat. The process of combus- 
 tion, like various other operations of nature, although 
 subject to our daily examination, is very little known, 
 and few are able te give a rational exphinaiion. The 
 v.irious phenomena it exhibits, lis astonishing effects, 
 its Infinite uses, and Its devastallon.s, have rendered it 
 In all ages a principal object of human attention. 
 Whilst the wants and economy of mankind have at all 
 times called forth their industry in devising ea-sy 
 methods of lighting and warming their apartments, of 
 preparing their victuals, &c., the calm contemplations 
 of the philosojiher rave endeavored to investigate the 
 cause or causes of this wonderful phenomenon. It is 
 natural to suppose that their first ideas must have 
 been extremely incoherent and fanciful, since the pres- 
 ent theory, which rests upon the foundation of innu- 
 merable experiments, and strict reasoning, is vastly 
 different from any sort of hypothesis that even the 
 wisest philosopher would have been kd to form with- 
 out the light of these experiments. The first jdaujible 
 theory was formed by Stahl, an eminent writer The 
 striking difference between bodies combustible fand 
 incombustible, induced him to suppose that the eom- 
 I bustibles were endowed with a peculiar principle of 
 inflamabillty, which the incombustibles had not, and 
 I to this supposed principle he gave the name of phlo- 
 ! gislon. According to this supposition, when com- 
 ! bustibles were heated to a certain degree, they began 
 to part with their phlogiston, and continued to bum as 
 long as they had phlogiston to lose; after which they 
 remained in a state of incombustibility; hence in the 
 former state, those bodies were said to be phlogisti- 
 I cated. With certain bodies the combustion was at- 
 tended with a separation of other components, so that 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 167 
 
 afterwards they could not be brought back to their 
 
 former state hy the mere addition of phlogiston; but 
 with other bodies, as the metals, the processes of 
 dephlogistication and phlogistication might bo re- 
 peated without end. This wsis long the prevailing 
 theory of philosophers; but though the theory was 
 universally adopted, the existence of the principle 
 upon which it was established could not be proved, for 
 instance, when ft piece of zinc of a determined weight, 
 was reduced to a calx, the weight of the calx was 
 found to exceed the original weight of the zinc. It 
 was therefore evident that it had acquired something 
 ponderous, and this was utterly repugnant to the 
 phlogistic theory; for by the loss of phlogiston it 
 ought rather to have lost part of its original weight. 
 
 A more rational theory, founded on experiments, is 
 now adopted. One of the principal laborers in its 
 investigation was the ingenious but unfortunate La- 
 voisier. He has clearly proved that during the pro- 
 cess of combustion, oxygen gas is absorbed by the 
 burning substance, and concentrate]; the caloric, 
 being disengaged, passes off in the state of sensible 
 he at, and sometimes with such a portion of light as 
 gives the appearance of a red or white heat. JFrom 
 what has been said, it follows, that with a given com- 
 bustible, the quickness of the decomposition is in pro- 
 portion to the supply of oxygen, which shows the 
 reason why a fire is increased by blowing common air 
 upon it, and much more by blowing upon it oxygen 
 gas. With certain combustibles, a peculiar process 
 takes place. It is a remarkably slow process of spon- 
 taneous conbustiou. The body, by attracting oxygen 
 from the atmosphere, becomes thereby gently heated 
 in consequence of which it is capable of uniting with 
 more oxygen; a greater decomposition of the latter 
 ensues, more heat is evolved, and thus the process is 
 gradually accelerated until flame aud visible combus- 
 tion takes place. Such is sometimes the case with 
 hay, and many other substances. The well known 
 mixtures, of iron filings and sulphur moistened with 
 a little water is an instance of this sort; for if this 
 mixture be buried a little below the surface of the 
 earth, it will of itself, after a lapse of several hours, 
 burst forth into a state of ignition. This experiment 
 has been generally called the artificial volcano. 
 
 ENTRY OF JAMES II. INTO DUBLIN. 
 
 It was on the 24th day of March, 1689, that 
 James Stuart, the seventh of that ill-fated name 
 v\ho held the sceptre of Scotland, and the second 
 who ruled England and Ireland, made his triumph- 
 al entry into the ancient city of Dublin. 
 
 Ireland had not seen a king of England on her 
 shores since the days of John, and the one who now 
 appeared, came, not on a visit of state, or merely to 
 receive the homage due to his dignity, but to con- 
 test in arms, with his rival, this the only part of his 
 dominions which had adhered to him. Por though 
 the valor of the viscount Dundee, the enthusiasm 
 of such Highland clans as followed him to the field 
 and some troops dispatched by Tyrcounel from Ire- 
 land served to make a considerable diversion in fa- 
 vor of James, stiU it was evident that the majority 
 of the people of Scotland were favorable to the rev- 
 olution. 
 
 Every effort had been made by the leaders of the 
 Jacobite party, now the ruling one in Ireland, to 
 give an imposing air to the entrance of their unhap- 
 py sovereign into the only capital which still held 
 him as hei king. The entire of the way leading 
 from the place where exiled royalty lir.st came with- 
 in the city to the castle was lined with soldiers; the 
 streets themselves were newly sanded for the occa- 
 sion; the balconies of the citizens were hnng with 
 tapestry and cloth of arras, and filled with all the 
 loveliness and grace of a town, which for female 
 beauty in comparison to its extent, has always 
 stood unrivalled. 
 
 In a carriage preeeeding the king, bearing the 
 sword of state, sat llichard Talbot, Earl of Tyreon- 
 nel; James himself mounted on a gallant charger, 
 wearing the decorations of the garter, with the 
 
 Earl- of Granard and Lord Po wis on his right, and 
 the Duke of Berwick and Lord Mefort on his left, 
 advanced amidst the plaudits of the multitude. 
 
 On approaching that part of the town called then, 
 as It is now, the Liberty, a silken canopy was 
 erected over the way, and here by far the most m- 
 teresting part of the pageant appeared. Forty 
 young and beautiful maidens, selected from the dif- 
 ferent convents in Dublin, clad in white silk, and 
 bearing baskets filled with flowers in their hands, 
 joined the procession, and walked immediately be- 
 fore His Majesty, strewed the contents of their bas- 
 kets in his path the rest of the ivay to the castle. 
 The bands of the different regiments played the 
 well known jaeobite tune of 'the king shall have 
 his own again,' while the people rent the air with 
 shouts of God save the King, long live the King. 
 
 E. B. 
 
 A Miser's Prayer. — The following singular 
 prayer was made by John Ward, of Hackney, Eng- 
 land. The document, which was found in Ward's 
 own hand writing, might be called the miser's prayer. 
 It is one of the examples on record of men combining 
 in themselves the utmost fanaticism, with the total 
 absence of any thing like moral feeling: 
 
 '0, Lord, thou knowest that I have nine estates in 
 the city of London, and likewise that I have lately 
 purchased an estate fee simple in the county of Essex; 
 I beseech thee to preserve the two counties of Middle- 
 sex and Essex from fire and earthquakes; and as I 
 have a mortgage in Hertfordshire, beg of thee to have 
 an eye of compassion on that county; and for the rest 
 of the counties, thou mayest deal with them as thou 
 art pleased. O, Lord, enable the banks to answer all 
 their bills, and make my debts on good men. Give a 
 prosperous voyage to the Mermaid sloop, because I 
 have insured it; and as thou hast said the days of the 
 wicked are but short, I trust in thee that thou wilt not 
 forget thy promise, as I have purchased an estate in 
 reversion, which will be mine upon the death of that 
 
 profligate young man, Sir I. L . Keep my friends 
 
 from sinking, and preserve me from thieves and house- 
 breakers, and make all my servants so honest and 
 faithful that they may attend to my interests and never 
 cheat me out of my property, night or day.' 
 
 A Good Wom.^n. — InDundalk Church yard there 
 is a tombstone erected by the Quarter JIastcr of a 
 Dragoon regiment over the grave of his wife, in the 
 inscription on which, after mentioning age, name, 
 date of death, &c., he says, 
 
 But I have not words to express wliat a good Woman 
 
 should be — 
 And she was that ." 
 
 THE QUAY OF WATERFORDi 
 
 [See engravings on the eighth page.] 
 The citizens of Waterford are justly proud of the 
 beauty of their harbor, and still more of their quay 
 which is not rivalled by anything of the kind in 
 Ireland. It is an English mjle in length, and pre- 
 sents a continued line with scarcely any interrup- 
 tion throughout its entire extent, a portion adjoin- 
 ing the river being divided off from the carriage-way 
 the whole length of the quay, and forming a truly 
 delightful promenade such as few cities can pro- 
 duce. Of the general effect of this beautifhl ob- 
 ject, our illustration will convey some idea, but the 
 natural beauty of the surroiuiding scenery must be 
 seen to be properly appreciated. The Suir, is a 
 magnificent river, affording a depth of water vary- 
 ing from twenty to sixty-five feet at low water; and 
 vessels of nearly 800 tons may come up close to the 
 quay, a circumstance which has been found pecu- 
 liarly favorable for the embarkation of cavaby and 
 military stores. The opposite banks of this noble 
 river are connected by a wooden bridge of modern 
 erection, which greatly adds to the interest and pic- 
 turesque effect of the scene. Of this bridge we 
 extract the following account from the excellent 
 history of ^\'aterford, by the llev. Mr. Ryland. The 
 wooden bridge connecting Waterford and the coun- 
 ty Killkcnny was undertaken in 1793, by a com- 
 
 pany, incor-porated by act of Parliament, who sub- 
 scribed £30,000 to complete the work, including 
 the purchase of the ferry. The money was raised 
 by loans of £100 each, the interest of which was to 
 be paid by the tolls of the bridge. The work, hav- 
 ing been completed for a less sum than was origi- 
 nally estimated, only required the payment of £90 
 on each debenture. The erection of a bridge has 
 eventually become a good speculation; the deben- 
 tures now sell for £170, and the company have a 
 sinking fund, already advanced to a considerable 
 amount, to rebuild the bridge as may be necessary. 
 The tolls for the present year (1824) let for the sum 
 of £4,260. 
 
 The present bridge was built of American oak, 
 by Mr. Cox, a native of Boston, who also erected 
 the magnificent bridge over the Slaney, and those 
 of Derry, Portumna, and Iloss. Co.x advised the 
 proprietors of the AVaterford bridge to case one of 
 the piers with stone until the whole were complet- 
 ed; but his advice was not followed. >■'-•»;,.., . ] 
 Two tablets, affi.xed to the centre piers, give an 
 account of the manner in. which the foundation 
 was laid, the date of the erection, and the materi- 
 als of which it was composed. The inscriptions 
 are as follows: — 
 
 In 1793, 
 
 A year rendered sacred 
 
 To national prosperity 
 
 By the extinction of religious divisions 
 
 The foundation of this Bridge was laid. 
 
 At the expense of associated individuals 
 
 United by Parliamentary grants, 
 
 By Sir John Newport, Bart,, 
 Chainnan of their Committee. 
 
 Mr. Samuel Cox, 
 
 A native of Boston, in America, 
 
 Architect. 
 
 On the thirtieth day of April, 1793, 
 
 This Bridge was begun. 
 
 On the eighteenth of January, 1794, 
 
 It was opened for the passage of carriages. 
 
 It is 832 feet in length, 40 in breadth, 
 
 Consisting of stone abutments. 
 
 And forty sets of piers of oak. 
 
 Tne depth of water at lowest ebb tides, 37 feet. 
 
 This work was completed, and the ferry purchased 
 
 by a subscription of thirty thousand pounds, 
 under the direction of the following Committee: 
 
 Sir John Newport, Bart., 
 Samuel Boyse, Esq., Sir Simon Newport, 
 Thomas Quan, Esq., Rev. William Davis, 
 Wm.PeroseFranciSjEsq, Thomas Alcock, Esq., 
 Robert Hunt, Esq., Maimsell Bowers, Esq., 
 
 John Congreve, Esq., Humphrey Jones, Esq., 
 James Ramsay, Esq.; Thos.H. Strangman, Esq. 
 The quay of Waterford is the place of restdence 
 of many of the chief merchants of the city, but its 
 most interesting architectural feature is an ancient 
 castle, called Reginald's Tower, and corruptly the 
 Ring Tower, which is probably the most tmqucs- 
 tionable remain of the Danish power, and one of 
 the most curious monuments of its kind now to be 
 found in the kingdom. The castle was also known 
 by the Irish name of Dundory, or the King's Port. 
 Its size and form, which like all the ancient castles 
 of the British islands, pre^^ous to the arrival of the 
 Normans, was circitlar, will be best understood by 
 the annexed view, and its history is thus briefly, but 
 not inaeurately summed up in the following in- 
 scription, on a tablet placed over its entrance door- 
 way. 
 
 In the year 1003, this Tower was erected by Reg- 
 inald the Dane — in 1171, was held as a Fortress by 
 Strongbow, Earl of Pembroke — in 1463, by statute 
 3d of Edward the 4th, a Mint was established here 
 — in 1819 it was re-edified in its original form, and 
 .ippropriated to the Police Establishment, by the 
 
168 
 
 IlllSIl mSCELLANY. 
 
 T n E Q I 
 
 \ T ]•: R F () 11 I) . 
 
 corporate body of the city of Wntcrford. 
 
 Kight Iloii. Sir John Newport, Bart., Mayor. 
 
 }Ienry Alcock, ) Sheriffs 
 
 AVillinm Weekcs, S ' 
 Repinnld's Tower, as stutod in the above inscrip- 
 tion, haj been applied to many and various purpo- 
 fcf, but there is one use not mentioned which 
 shouUl not be forgotten, namely that of a Trison. 
 After the successful stomiinp of the town by the 
 English forces of Enrl Strongbow— led on by the 
 redoubtable liaymond le Gros — in 1171, when the 
 
 city was plundered, and all the inhabitants found 
 in arms were put to the sword, Reginald, Prince of 
 the Danes of Waterford, and Malachy O'Faelan, 
 Prince of the Decies, with several other chiefs who 
 had confederated to resist the invaders, and were 
 made prisoners in the combat, were imprisoned in 
 this Tower till their ultimate fate should be deter- 
 mined on. They were condemned to death — but 
 saved by the intercession of Dennot JIae Jlurrogh, 
 who with Fitzstephen and many other English and 
 
 j Welsh gentlemen, came to Waterford to be present 
 at the marriage of Earl Strongbow with Eva, tho 
 iKing of Leinster's daughter. 
 
 I We have thus briefly noticed one of the most dis- 
 tinguishing features of this ancient and distinguish- 
 ed city — its general history, as well as notices of 
 its several public institutions, would exceed the 
 [limits allowable in a single number of our little 
 jwork; but they shall appear in the succeeding num- 
 Ibcrs. p. 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 169 
 
 THE 
 IRISH MISCELLANY 
 
 Is publislied wcokly, nud devoted to the interests nnd vin- 
 dictitioii of the Irish people throughout the world. 
 
 The iU(5ffWrtHf/ republishes each week one whole number 
 of the old ' Dublin 1'hnny Jouunal,' with original and 
 Bolocted essays, reviews, poetry, &c., by Irishmen, of lh-t;t- 
 rate ability. It also coutaius beautiful I'ictorial IlluEjtra- 
 tions of Irish scenery and other objects of interest, among 
 which may be enumerated engravings ot the ancient cas- 
 tles and round towers, the ruins of the old churehes, the 
 plundered monasteries, convents and abbeys of Ireland. 
 
 It will also contain oorrect notorial representations of 
 works of art executed by Irishmen ot the present day, as 
 well as iu former times, iu this country and throughout 
 Europe. 
 
 Tkiuis.— S2,00 per year, invariably in advance. 
 "WALSH & CO. rROPKIETORS, 
 
 No. 4 'Water Street, BostoNj Mass. 
 
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 FOU KACU eyUAUE Off TWELVE LINKS. 
 
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 Larger advertisements charged in proportion. 
 
 Business Notices, solid .... 10 cents per line. 
 
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 The expense ot producing the Irish Miscellany is much 
 
 greater than that of an ordinary newspaper. Yet to meet 
 
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 within thereaoh of all, we have resolved to supply it on the 
 
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 The whole 9t the money must invariably be sent at one 
 
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 NOTICES TO CORRESPONDENTS. 
 
 CT" Communications intended for insertion in this paper, 
 should be addressed 
 
 'To the Editors of the 
 Irish Miscellany, 
 Boston, Mass.' 
 \C^ We cannot take any notice of communicationB in- 
 tended for insertion, if written on both sides of the paper. 
 
 ^Cr" Correspondents must furnish us with their names, in 
 confidence, or their favors cannot be published. 
 
 K7*" We cannot return any manuscript sent us for publica- 
 tion. 
 
 C7^ OiTP. CoRREfapoNDENTS should forward communica- 
 tions intended for insertion in the Mixrrllany, not later than 
 the Saturday before the day of publication, as our increas- 
 ing circulation compels us to go to press every Monday 
 morning. 
 
 'A Repealer,' Troy, N. Y. The numbers on the division 
 in the Irish House of Commons on the question of the 
 union of the two parliaments, on the 22d ot January, ITi-S, 
 were 105 for, and 106 against. The last division in the Eng- 
 lish House of Commons on the same question, was 149 for 
 the union, 28 against. The act of union pa.s.'-ed the English 
 ptrlianieut 25th of January, 1800, and the Irish 
 Uou^e of Commons May 16tb, 1800, by IW for and 130 
 agaJUbt. 
 
 *SiiiN Fane,' Worcester, Mass. Moving bogs are of fre- 
 quent occurrence in Ireland. The bog of Kilmalady 
 burst from its position on tlic 26th of June, 1821, and iu one 
 hour covered one hundred acres of laud liom twenty to 
 sixty feet deep. Roads and bridges were covered, and 
 great damage done. 
 
 Tatiuck MoNeil,' Utica, N.Y. The duel between 
 Lord Castlereagh and George Canning was fought on the 
 22dof September, 1809. The latter received the ball of his 
 opponent in his thigh. The dispute between them arose iu 
 the cabinet. 
 
 'Galweoian,' New Haven, Conn. Athenry or Athen- 
 ree, is in the county of Galway. Its former name was At- 
 creth. It is 117 miles W. by S. of Dublin, and before the 
 union returned two members to the Irish rarliamcnt. The 
 Dominican friary of which you speak, was burnt iu 1432. 
 The remains of the old friary attest its former magnificent 
 proportions. 
 
 A correspoudent iu Cincinnati says the two tallest chim- 
 neys in the world arc— one 436 feet high belonging to Chas. 
 Tenant & Co., Scotland; the other in Newton, Lancashire, 
 Eng., belonging to Mr. Charles Muspratt, a native of Dublin, 
 which is 4:06 feet high. There were two millions of bricks 
 consumed in erecting the Scotch chimney, and three mill- 
 ions in the English one. 
 
 Our St Louis agent writes us that he has not received 
 our paper for three weeks. The fault is iu the Post Office. 
 We mail them regularly. 
 
 A clergyman in St. John. N. B., complains of not receiv- 
 ing a single copy of his paper, although sent to him every 
 week from this olUce, and the postage paid. If the post of- 
 fice officials who steal the Miscellany from our subscribers 
 will let us know their names, we will send them a lew 
 copies to keep them honest. 
 
 Several notices to other correspondents must stand over 
 tor want of space. 
 
 IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 BOSTON, SATURDAY, APRIL 24, 1858 
 
 WESTWARD. 
 
 We have long wished that our people, instead of settling 
 in the crowded cities and towns oi the North, would tend 
 their footsteps to the West, and cut out for themselves a 
 position of comfort and honor, which they can never attain 
 on the sea-board ot the Morthern and Eastern States. This 
 has been repeatedly urged upon them by our cotemporaries, 
 we regret to add with but little effect. 
 
 The great commercial panic through which we have just 
 passed, has overturned the old state of things, and proved 
 how sublunary were the visions of wealth and prosperity 
 with which we thought ourselves surrounded. The wealth 
 and capital of the country must be diverted into new and 
 more secure channels. The jobbing and gambling in the 
 food of the people must cease, and those who wish to ele- 
 vate themselves by wealth and obtain the influence it gives, 
 must seek for something more substantial and endurable on 
 which to build, than the chance fortunes made from ficti- 
 tious and uncertain speculations in business. 
 
 We say what the world has said for a thousand years, 
 the only safe aud reliable investment is the land. It gives 
 to its possessor a manly air of independence which no 
 drudge or toiler in the city possesses. The tiller of the soil 
 feels that every drop of sweat, and every stretch of sinew, 
 is so much capital deposited iu a sale and secure bank, to 
 becalledfor at pleasure, with no fear of suspension. If, 
 then, we wish to elevate ourselves in a political and social 
 aspect, we must quit the crowded towns and cities of the 
 old state, and carry our labor to a market where it will be 
 appreciated ; where every new comer is a large accession of 
 caiiital added to the wealth of the new state. In theKortU 
 and East, there is a strong feeling of animosity, of hate, 
 against all new comers, but more particularly against all 
 Irish new comers. Here, in the city of Boston, where the 
 foreign (as it is called) population is sixty-seven per cent of 
 the inhabitants, we have not suflicient political power to 
 appoint a man to the petty oflice of a constable. 
 
 What is true of our political position, is true also of the 
 social position enjoyed by our fellow-countrymen, iu this 
 'Modern Athens.' We have known respectable young 
 Irishmen, occupying good commercial situations here, who 
 were compelled to leave their boarding-houses as soon as it 
 was discovered to what conntiy they belonged, or every 
 other boarder would have left. 
 
 There is little use in combating this feeling, it pervades 
 all classes. It is in trade and commerce; on the bench; at 
 the bar; in the jury- box. We meet it at every corner of 
 tiie street; it stares us iu the face every way we turn; it is 
 loo strong and deep seated iu the Yankee njind to be over- 
 come. The rising generation will possess it stronger than 
 the present one. 
 
 Our duly is to fly from it. It i.'S dangerous to rear our 
 children in its midst, less they become corrnjited by its 
 baneful power, and forget, not only Ihc old land of tlicir I 
 
 fathers, but forget their God. This feeling is most per- 
 nicious in New England. We say emphatically, that the 
 New England Stales ought to be avoided by every Irishman. 
 Wo would. If we could, place a light round about its shores 
 to warn every child of Erin to shun them as they would a 
 pest house, aud seek iu some more congenial place that po- 
 sition which they can never attaiu here. 
 
 The western country is the proper location for all hardy, 
 industrious settlers from the old land. Iu the west all are 
 new comers; all are alike welco me. The channel of indus- 
 tay is open to every one, and the pri/.c obtained by those 
 most deierving of it. There they have no animosities to 
 contend with. Fame, wealth, honor, may be attained by 
 the foreigner as well as the native— there it is that our fel- 
 low-countrymen can achieve that politi cal and social ele- 
 vation which it is folly to expect here. 
 
 The tide of migration to the West is fast setting in. We 
 are rejoiced to hear of the success continually achieved by 
 our fellow-countrymen there. Scarcely a city can be en- 
 tered in that vast region, without at once beholding the re- 
 wards showered upon Irish talent and enterprise. The 
 highest oflices in the gift of the people, are conferred upon 
 them. We would strongly advise our countrymen to make 
 tor the new states iu the west as fast as circumstances will 
 permit. Every day spent in the North or the East is a day 
 lost in the great struggle of life. In no other part of the 
 Union can the same comfort and independence be realized. 
 We shall return to this interesting topic again, and point 
 out such places as we think best adapted for settlement. 
 We would, however, caution young men expecting situa- 
 tions in commercial houses, from going West; it is already 
 overrun with such, and nothing but disappointment and 
 loss awaits them. The industrious laborer, mechanic, or 
 farmer, with a small capital, is sure to meet with success, 
 and all such we would advise to make the Western country 
 their future home. 
 
 SUBSCRIPTIONS FOR THE DONEGAL 
 SUFFERERS. 
 
 M. J. Walsh & Co., Proprietors of Miscellany, .'6,5.00 
 M. F. & P. C, New Haven, Conn., 2.00 
 
 SOUTH END CATHOLIC BOOK STORE. 
 
 In one of our walks about town last week, in passing up 
 that handsome and quiet street, Harrison Avenue— the Bea- 
 con street of south end— our attention was attracted by the 
 fine appearance of a window on the railroad bridge, which 
 we immediately perceived to be that of our old friend, Wil- 
 liam Keating, who has recently established himself in that 
 desirable locality, in the book-selliug and periodical busi- 
 ness. Standard works crowd his shelves; quarterlies and 
 monthlies, as well as the principal weeklies and dailies may 
 bo found on his counter; any as our many readers in that 
 part of the city are returning to their homes after the day's 
 toil, it will be refreshing to drop in and get a paper, book, 
 or occasional periodical— such, for instance, as the Metro- 
 politan, or Catholic Youth's Magazine, which no family 
 able to buy should be without. The latter is only 50 cents 
 a year— 6 cents a number. 
 
 PUBLICATIONS RECEIVED. 
 
 Eo5rE: Its Ruler and its Institutions. By John Francis 
 Maguire, M.P. New Y'ork: D. & .1. Sadlier & Co. Bos- 
 ton: William Hickey, 128 Federal street. 
 We shall give this valuable work an extended notice in a 
 
 future number. 
 
 The Celt. Edited by a Committee of the Celtic Union. 
 Dublin : O'Daly. March, 1858. 
 
 NEW MUSIC. 
 From Russell and Richardson :— 'Leaves fi-om my Album 
 composed for the Y'oung, by John Freitag, Nos, 1 and 2; 
 'O Welcome Fair Wood,' 'The Churchyard,' and 'Forth 
 from the Depths of Sadness,' being Nos. 8, 9 and 10 of 
 Twelve Songs, by Robert Franz. All these pieces of music 
 sustain the well-earned reputations of the composers, and 
 are issued in that unexceptional manner for which all the 
 puhlieations that emanate from the house of Messrs. Rus- 
 sell & Richardson are celebrated. 
 
 TuE Lettek of our esteemed Dublin Correspondent, did 
 not come to hand early enough this week to ensure its in- 
 sertion in this number. We must, therefore, crave the in- 
 dulgence of our readers, at the same time assuring tliem that 
 the loss shall be amply made up to them in our next issue. 
 
 Carletox's Black Bauonet- — A lengthy notice of 
 this great work is this week crowded out of our columus. 
 It shall appear in our ne.vt. 
 
 The Executive CouxciL has re-considered its former 
 action, and coufirmed the nomination of JIarcus Morton, 
 .)r., of Andover, as Associate Justice of the Superior Court, 
 for the County «f Suil'olk. 
 
170 
 
 IlUSn MISCELLANY. 
 
 Wriltou lor lUe MiscollBny. 
 OSINO NOT TO ME. 
 
 11 V I> A 1! II V M C K E O N . 
 
 Air— 'lA't Erin Kiuii'mlwr.' 
 
 Oh! ding not to mc oftlic far-illiiliint Wont, 
 AVIii'iv the rvd luoii roniii in llic wllilwood; 
 
 Bat siug of llie laiitl my roiid lifart loves llic best, 
 The (lenr emerald liomc of my cliililliood : 
 
 After embracing a large portion of Cork, between 
 the north and south chimnels, tlic eevcrcd streams 
 re-unite nt the cnstern extremity of the town, thus 
 verifying the toiiographicitl iiccurai-y of Spenser's 
 Uesfriptiou; — 
 
 I Above the weirs, on nn eminence nt the northern 
 I side of the river, is seen Slianakicl House, the scat 
 Wheru briglit vales and bowers, gushing lountaiusand ; g{ Fmncis K. Leahy, Ksq., J.l'. It is beautifully 
 
 flowers, situated in a well-wooded demesne, and coniniands 
 
 Make tile scene 80 enchanting, so begnillng, 
 ■Where sweet -miling nature exhausts all her powers a noble prospect up and down the stream. 
 
 Jn adorning my own native Island. The approach to Cork by the western suburbs is 
 
 -When Sol .|.n.ads his beams o'er the bright orirtal j strikingly beautiful. To the left appear the wooded 
 
 8tream.<, heights of Sunday's Well (so called from its ancient 
 
 Where the soft balmy zephyrs are blowing, sacred fountain) with its garden- covered slopes thick- 
 
 ■When) the hindscaiK! apiiears like some sweet land of ,y smdjgj „.i,ii pretty villas. On tlio other side of 
 
 tlie river, and parallel with the great western entrance 
 to the city, is the Mnrdykc — a charming avenue, near- 
 ly a mile in length and bordered by two rows of elm 
 trees. It was lit by lamps; but many of these liavo 
 been removed byan over-economic corporation. This 
 agreeable walk was formed across a swamp in 1710, 
 by a Mr. Webber, who built at its western termina- 
 tion a red brick house (whence it was designated 'The 
 Red Hou.se Walk,') and enclosed a tea-garden much 
 
 dreams, 
 
 With celestial treasures o'crflowing; 
 Where towering mountains, miyestic and grand, 
 
 The pur«, virgin green doth appear in, 
 As types of the faith of that God-guardod land 
 
 And the immortal banner of Erin. 
 
 I envy not those who in splendor repose, 
 
 By pomp, pride and fashion surrounded; 
 But give me my home v\here the pure river flows 
 
 And faith, truth and virtue abounded. 
 But alasl far away o'er the wide swelling sea, 
 
 From that land to this heart so endearing j 
 No earthly treasure brings pleasure to me 
 
 When so far from my dear native Erin. 
 
 Would rd a tongue like some tribune of old, 
 
 To awake my lost land from her slumber; 
 And ten thousand comrades faithful and bold 
 
 You making one of the number; 
 With cold .steel petitions to loosed her chains 
 
 In the blood of that hoary trrnsgressor, 
 To plant liberty on her mountains and plains, 
 
 And drive out her Sa.\on oppressor. 
 
 MODERN IRELAND. 
 
 It will doubtless have been noticed by many of 
 our readers, that much of our reprint from the 
 'Dublin Penny Journal' contains descriptions of 
 Irish cities and towns remarkable only for decay 
 and misery. We have felt this, and rejoice that it 
 is in our power to give a more cheerful and siumy 
 picture of Ireland than is presented in the sketches 
 •written thirty years ago. llere is a drawing of 
 Cork of the present day, the correctness of which 
 ■will at once be recognized by such of our readers as 
 have within the past sue years beheld that noble 
 city:- 
 
 TIIE RIATR LEE. 
 
 THE CITY OF COKK. 1. 
 
 After passing Carrigrohan Castle, the eye is at- 
 tracted by the district Lunatic Asylum, pleasantly 
 situated on the slope of a hill above the river. The 
 style of architecture is original and rather peculiar. 
 The prevailing character is the Gothic, rendered 
 still more impressive by broken lines and projections 
 some with high-pitched turrets, ascending in dimin- 
 ishing stages, and others with e.xtinguisher-shaped 
 terminations, the impression produced by which is 
 anything but pleasing. The .Vssylum is divided 
 into three main compartments; the central one be- 
 ing appropriated to the harmless and convalescent 
 patients, the eastern to the violent, and the western 
 to those in the lowest state of insanity. The ground 
 enclosed consists of 57 acres, the greater part of 
 ■which is cultivated by the inmates. The btiilding, 
 ■Nvhieh is capable of containing 500 patients, is the 
 largest of the kind in Ireland. This ho-wcver, is 
 merely accidental; and it should not be thence in- 
 ferred that the people of Cork arc more liable to 
 insanity than those of any other town in the king- 
 dom. 
 
 A little below the Lunatic Asylum (which as a 
 very equivocal compliment to Lord Eglinton, was 
 ■until lately named after him) the Lee is divided in- 
 to two branches, the principle of -Nvhich rushes 
 foaming througn the salmon weirs that obstruct its 
 couise — 
 
 'Like sheet lightning 
 
 Ever brightmng. 
 With a low melodious tJiimder.' 
 
 frequented by the citizens of that day. Some of the 
 trees liave been barbarously hacked in pruning, and 
 now present a mis-shapen and grotesque appearance. 
 
 For the enltghtenment and comfort of ctymologsits, 
 we may mention that the name of this once favorite 
 promenade — now abandoned to nursery maids and 
 their toddling charges — is derived from the Latin 
 'murus,' a wall, and the English 'dyke,' also a wall or 
 embankment, so that the etymon being a wall in two 
 languages, it is clear that it must have been originally 
 intended for a mural promenade, to which, in reality, 
 it has little pretensions. 
 
 Proceeding along the Western Road, the Queen's 
 College is seen to the right, on an elevation above the 
 southern arm of the Lee. It is a very handsome 
 building of greyish lime-stone, in the florid Gothic 
 style of the TuJor era; and no higher testimony could 
 be given to the beauty of its design than the emphatic 
 declaration of Lord JIacaulay, that it is 'worthy to 
 stand in the High street of O.xford.'* The beauty of 
 the building is enhanced by the cluster of trees in 
 which it is embosomed; but its general eflect is some- 
 what impaired by the too close pro.ximity to that 
 gloomy-looking strncture, the county goal — its classic 
 and effective porticocd entrance nothwithstanding. 
 
 The situation of the College has been hiippily cho- 
 sen, as it stands on the site of the ancient Gill Abbey, 
 once a seat of holiness and learning, founded by St. 
 Finbnr, in the seventh century. The building occupies 
 three sides of a rjuadrangle. In the west side arc the 
 lecture rooms; in the cast the residences of the presi- 
 dent and vice-president; while the north side, or front, 
 which is 20G feet in extent, consists of the examina- 
 tion hall, library, and tower entrance. The south 
 side is still unoccupied; but the space is likely to be 
 covered ere long by buildings for the residence of pro- 
 fessors and students, without which the college can 
 never be anything better than a high school. 
 
 The examination hall is remarkable for its noble 
 proportions, being 90 feet by 36, and 56 feet high to 
 the apex of an open-limbered roof, whose Btaineil and 
 varnished trusses rest on stone corbels. At the west- 
 em end is a duis lighted by a recessed oriel window. 
 Adjoining the examination hall is the library, a very 
 fine room, with a gallery running midway around the 
 sides. It contains about 10,000 vohimes of the best 
 editions in every department of literature aiul science. 
 In 1854, an annual grant of £1,000 was made to the 
 college, £500 of which is appropriated to the library, 
 and since that period a large number of volumes has 
 been added to it. 
 
 • The imssoKcfVom which these words are qnoted occurs 
 in bis lli>torv'ol England. V. III.. I'. 171, wliere. with his 
 n~uul i-plcndor ol diction, he thus describes Cork:— 'llie 
 town is udorncd bv broad and wall-built strcels. by fair 
 
 gardens, by a Coriiitliiun portico, which would do honor to j^ ^^, innuence. Jir, » uhl-^i..^ >... 
 I-«lladio, and by a Oothic College, worthy to stand m the ! j;",'^ou a" . a fine fpecimci of rigmarole 
 High sUcet of Oxford. 
 
 Opposite the entrance to the gallery of tlio library 
 arc the museums, which occupy the southern side of 
 tlie quadrangle. Tliey contain well-arranged collec- 
 tions of specimens in natural history, geology, &c., 
 and some beautiful stullcd humming birds presented 
 to the college by a Corkman, General O'l/Cary. TUo 
 visitor cannot quit the college without being impressed 
 with its harmonious unity of design and perfect adap- 
 tion to the ])urposo for which it wiu, erected. This 
 unity and congruity prevail in every detail, even ia 
 the furniture and fittings; and altogether the building 
 is an enduring monument of the skill and taste of its 
 architects, Sir Thomas and Kcarns Dcane. 
 
 The college has now been eight years in existence, 
 having been opened in November, 1849, on which 
 occasion the president delivered an inaugural address, 
 which subsc(iucntly obtained considerable notoriety by 
 a blundering Italian translation, w'/.cncc originated 
 the case of 'Angcli v. Galbraidi.' arising out of the 
 dismissal of the former from his professorship in Trin- 
 ity CoUege.t Since that time the College has not 
 made such progress as regards the number of stu- 
 dents, although many of them have highly distin- 
 guished themselves. Two of its eleves, Jlessrs. C. 
 Daly and R. Wall, obtained appointments in the In- 
 dian Civil Service, for wliie'.i they had to compete not 
 only with the alnmni of the Irish Colleges, but with the 
 elite of the English Universities; while, at the Wool- 
 wich examinations, students of the Cork College have 
 been equally successful. In some recent examina- 
 tions for degrees at the Queen's University, however, 
 the reputation of the College was not sustained, and 
 it must be confessed that it has been retrograding of 
 late. This comparatively backward position is clearly 
 traceable, in the first instance, to the discountenance of 
 the Roman Catholic Church, which cannot fail to 
 exert an appreciable influence on a community so 
 essentially Catholic at that of Cork; secondly, to in- 
 ternal mismanagement arising from dissensions among 
 the professors, and between many of them and tho 
 president, which have caused so many visitations to 
 be held in the College, and which liave rendered it 
 impossible to effect that harmonious cooperation so 
 essential to tlie success of an educational institution; 
 and, lastly, to the unsatisfactory mode of appointment 
 to the professorships, which, in many instances, have 
 been obtained by men eomparaiively unknown, while 
 candidates of acknowledged ability and high rejiuta- 
 tion have been totally overlooked. Undoubtedly, in- 
 cluding the president, a few able men occupy chairs 
 in the Cork College; but without questioning the com- 
 petency of any of the jirofessors, we rcjicat that many 
 of them have been appointed over tlic heads of better 
 men. Advertising for candidates for a vacant chair 
 in the (Queen's Colleges is of late years a mere farce; 
 and in looking for it, an able Irishman, with the high- 
 est testimonials, will have no chance against a medi- 
 ocre Englishmen or Scotchman who liad never been 
 heard of before. 
 
 The almost constant absence of Sir Robert Kane 
 from the College has been also considered as a princi- 
 pal cause of its present state ; but wo do not think this 
 has any material influence in its production — the causes 
 already enumerated being fully sudlcient to account 
 for it. It is therefore in no wise surprising that tho 
 
 t The rresidcnt desired to have the address translated 
 into Italian, in order to disabusethc heads of the Church in 
 Jtalv oflhe uulavonible nolioiis they had formed 01 ll.o 
 llueens College^, llwas. therefore, entrnsled to .Slgnor 
 .\l,geli,lhe Italian I'roH-.-sur of Trinity College, who was 
 lirctuined to be a perleet master of tliot language. How he 
 Oxecuted the task inav be inlerred from Ihe eviaence ol Mr. 
 I-uni//i. tlie Librarian of the British .Museum, one ol the 
 mo^l emiiieni Italian scholars oflhe day. who swore, in the 
 case referred to above, that the traiislaiion was not Italian 
 at all The lollowing npposilelincs(slightly modilied) from 
 one of lloileaus Sniiies were handed round the court dol- 
 ing the trial, and caused much amusement: — 
 
 ' Vn savant au college ftit jadis a la mode, 
 Mais des fous aiUourd, hui cest le plus incommode: 
 Et resprit le plus beau, rauleur le plus poll, 
 K'y parviendra jamais au sort de rAiigeli. 
 The happy opplication of those lines will be rendered still 
 more ubviou~ when we menlion that .'^ignor Aiipeli was ap- 
 Doiulcd over a man of suiierior merit by custle-jobbing una 
 backstttiisinlluence. Jlr, Whiteside characterised thetruns- 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 171 
 
 Cork College, despite a cun-ieuUmi expressly arranged 
 to meet tlio requirements of our ' practical ' ago, and 
 althoHgh amply provided with all the appliances 
 requisite to impart superior instruction, has not hoen 
 hitherto successful ; and were it not for the number of 
 scholarships and prizes, as well as the government 
 patronage at its disposal, it is indubitable that the Mun- 
 ster branch of the Queen's University would be an 
 absolute failure. Ai it is, the large annual grant of 
 £S,600, is expended for the education of a few stu- 
 dents. 
 
 Ere quitting the subject, we may remark that, al- 
 though a chair of Cellic literature has been established 
 in the College, it would seem to be a mere pretence of 
 nationalliy, no provision whatever having been made 
 for its working. Practically, it is the veriest sham, 
 and hence the learned professor who fills the chair, 
 finds his situation a sinecure — having had no class, 
 because no encouragement has been given for its for- 
 mation. This is the more to be regretted at a time 
 when some of the ablest philologcrs of the age, and es- 
 pecially those of Germany, recognise the value of the 
 Irish language fur thepurpose of ethnological research. 
 By the study and comparison of the Irish with cognate 
 tongues, new and valuable results could not fail to be 
 brought to light concerning the migr.ations of the Celt- 
 ic race, and the fusion of other races wnh it. 
 
 After passing the Queen's College, the handsome 
 church of St. Vincent (as yet without its tower and 
 spire) is seen on the northern side of the river, and 
 rising at a commanding elevation above it, the ivied 
 walls of Blair's Castle, the residence of Mr. Windele, 
 the well known .antiquary. Mr. Windele possesses a 
 fine antiquarian collection, particularly rich in Irish 
 archajology, containing a megalithic library consisting 
 of Ogham inscriptions, in which department of our na- 
 tional antiquities he has been the principal discoverer. 
 There are also at Blair's Castle several portions of 
 piimKval mills, and remains of local mediteval sculp- 
 ture. 
 
 Blair, the founder of the castle, was a Scotch sur- 
 geon, who, in the middle of the last century, obtained 
 a reputation by an accidental cure, for which he was 
 attacked by a quartette of local physicians, who proved, 
 to the satisfaction of all men, that, treated secundum 
 artem, the patient ought to have died, and that the 
 Scotch surgeon had irregularly cured him. After this 
 lucky ' hit ' Blair mabe a fortune by his practice, built 
 his Scottish castle, and wrote a book full of pestilent 
 doctrine, or rather rank infidelity, which was triumph- 
 antly refuted by the learned and facetious Father Ar- 
 thur O'leary. 
 
 Arrived at the County Court House (whose fault- 
 less portico he will pause to admire,) the traveller finds 
 himself at once in one of the principal thoroughfares 
 of Cork. The favorable impression it is calculated to 
 produce in the mind of a stranger will scarcely be 
 diminished by a more extended inspection of the city, 
 the irregularity of whose streets, like those of the 
 quaint old burghs of Flanders, invests them with a 
 picturesqueness denied to towns where greater uni- 
 formiiy prevails in the houses. This irregularity 
 would seem to indicate a thorough independence of 
 mind in the inhabitants. A diminutive tenement side 
 by side with one five or six stories high, some project- 
 ing boldly several feet beyond their neighbors, others 
 modestly receding from the view; a crooked house 
 leaning with a touchiog confidence against a straight, 
 with here and there a collapsed one shored up; bay 
 windows and flat mixed confused together; red brick 
 alternating with queer-looking, weather-slated houses 
 — Quakers among edifices; quaint Elizbethan gables 
 ri^ing beside glaring modern fronts; one building 
 robed in cement, with its neighbor shrouded in yellow 
 wash; flat roofs and pointed all jumbled together; and, 
 crowning all, a mass of indescribable mischief-mean- 
 ing chimneys, of every conceivable shape — such, with 
 a too prevalent air of uncleanliness and dinginess per- 
 vading the thoroaghfares, are the prominent features 
 of the streets of 'the beautiful city.' It would be un- 
 
 and that the city generally bears the unmistakable 
 stamp of an opulent and prosperous commttnity. 
 
 Unlike Dublin, Cork has but few streets with any 
 significative name, and fewer still called after patriotic 
 Irishmen. These are easily enumerated; Grafton's 
 alley, so called after the young Duke of Grafton, nat- 
 ral son of Charles II., who was killed there during the 
 siege of the city in 1C90. It was then an open marsh. 
 Mulgrave street, so named to commemorate the mem- 
 ory of Lord Mulgrave, so popular during his vice roy- 
 alty. O'Connell street preserves the memory of the 
 great Irish tribune, while Grattan street struggles to 
 maintain its glorious name against the English pat- 
 ronymic of Admiral Duncan. George street is so 
 styled after the truly enlightened second George, who 
 complacently exclaimed, on being asked to accept a 
 dedication from a hapless cultivator of the muses — 
 'Ach, Gott! I hate boets and boetry;' finally, 'Ireland 
 Rising Liberty Street,' so designated in commemora- 
 tion of the volunteers of 1782, whose first associations 
 were formed in Cork. 
 
 But how amazed would be the deluded tiaveller 
 were he shown the squares of Cork, of which there .are 
 nomin.ally plently — but such squares! It would puzzle 
 Sir Isaac Newton to make that geometrical figure out 
 of them; and yet the Corkonians unconsciously men- 
 tion their squares with as much complacency as if 
 they had a real existence and were no myth, thereby 
 conveying to strangers the idea of a city of vast ex- 
 tent and magnificence. Their 'park' is a similar im- 
 position, being nothing more than a reclaitned marsh, 
 on ,\ hieh there is not as much as the shadow of a tree, 
 or even of a shrub. The good Cork folks have a firm 
 faith that all these shams are realities, and it would be 
 cruelty to disabuse them of a deception from which 
 they seem to derive so much harmless gratification. 
 To do so would be to render existence miserable — 
 creation a blank to them. By all means, let them 
 have their hobby; for what would life be without illu- 
 sions'? 
 
 In our next article we shall briefly trace the origin 
 and rise of the city. B. A. C. 
 
 — Irish Literary Gazette. 
 
 LITERATURE. 
 
 [From Tales of the Olden Time.] 
 CASTLE ROCHE. 
 
 A LEGEND or LOUTH, 
 
 [Continued.] 
 
 ' No, my gracious liege ! having once gone so far, 
 I cannot recede — though I will candidly confess, that 
 ill losing thee, I lose all that can endear life ; yet 
 must I make this sacrifice ! But thou hast forgot- 
 ten the imhappy origin of this our separation — let 
 me, however, remind thee of it. An explanation is 
 due to thy firm and true affection, and I must not 
 withhold it. Know then, that when my young 
 heart first owned your highness for its master, I 
 had but small hopes of winning thy regard, and, 
 that I might propitiate some supernatural power to 
 favor my wishes, I made a vow that if I succeeded 
 in obtaining thy love, I would sacrifice whatever I 
 most valued. 'After a strict self-examination I found, 
 that the unusual richness and beauty of my hair, 
 afforded me more complacency than any good in 
 my possession — I could not bring myself to destroy 
 ■what I so highly valued, but resolved to conceal it, 
 thinking that ray vow would be thus all the same 
 fulfilled. Now, when I am about leaving thee and 
 the Danish coast forever, the term of my conceal- 
 ment has expired. Behold the secret of my head 
 explained — art thou convinced, my lord ?' 
 
 ' Too well — too well — Christina ! It was then for 
 my unworthy sake that thou madest that sacrifice — 
 concealing from mortal eye that beautiful hair, and 
 suffering thyself to be considered as having some 
 horrible ailment. Oh ! Christina ! Christina ! and 
 after all, — all, — must I lose thee ?' 
 
 As the monarch turned from the fair speaker, in 
 a fit of uncontrollable anguish, his eye fell on the 
 silent and fear-stricken group of noblemen, who oc- 
 cupied the farther end of the cabin. At sight of 
 them, all the fiery passion of his nature hurst forth. 
 'Away! ye vile, contemptible slanderers ! ye piti- 
 ful intriguers ! who, to accomplish your own ends 
 made no scruple of calumniating one for whose 
 smile alone I would give a thousand such knaves as 
 ye. Leave my presence instantly — and hope not 
 that ye shall escape condign punishment !' 
 
 Christina here interposed her powerful influence. 
 ' Christian, I beseech thee, (remember it is my 
 last request,) that thou wilt pardon these noblemen. 
 I freely forgive them — they did all for thy greater 
 advancement. Let us then forgive them. If ever 
 thou loved' st Christina, thou wilt continue them in 
 all their offices, and consign to oblivion the part 
 they have taken in this affair — promise me this one 
 thing ?' 
 
 'I do promise thee, Christina — oh ! what would I 
 now refuse thee.' 
 
 ' I thank thee — from my heart, I thank thee ! But, 
 my liege, the moments are precious !' 
 
 ' Christina, I cannot leave thee — stay with mfii 
 and share my throne !' Falling at her feet, he ad- 
 ded, ' Behold Christian of Denmark, thy once-be- 
 loved Christian, sues to thee, thus lowly. Consent 
 to remain, and to-morrow will find the queen of 
 my dominions, as thou hast long been of my haert.' 
 Christina was so overcome by amazement that 
 she had scarcely power to raise the kneeling mon- 
 arch. Throwing her arms round him, she strained 
 him long and earnestly to her bosom. 
 
 ' Light of my soul ! why — oh, why ! dost thou 
 tempt me so ? — I have sworn to depart, and I can- 
 not remain ! And thou would'st make me thy wife, 
 most generous of men ! Thy wife ! oh, sound be- 
 loved ! — But it cannot be — Christina was not bom 
 for such exquisite happiness ! Accept my last em- 
 brace, and be these scalding tears nly witness, that 
 this separation is to me as the rending asunder of 
 soul and body.' 
 
 ' Farewell, then, my idolized— my first — last — 
 only love ! A crown ! oh, what is it when compared 
 with thy love ! Farewell, forever !' and imprint- 
 ing a kiss of fierce despair upon her lips, he rushed 
 from herpresencB. . 
 
 Christina dropt senseless on the fl^oor — the actual 
 moment of parting was too much for her. Strong 
 and masculine as was her mind, she had miscalcu- 
 lated her own strength, when she thought to have 
 sustained the stroke (wliieh she had herself invited) 
 with firmness. 
 
 When consciousness again returned she found 
 herself alone — for a moment she felt bewildered, but 
 her recollection quickly revived, and the truth flash- 
 ed across her mind — Christian was gone — aye ! gone 
 forever ! 
 
 She flew to the window, in the hope of catching 
 a last glimpse of that beloved form — but vain was 
 the efl'ort, her swoon had coiitmued so long, that 
 the barge was already out of sight. A change had 
 come over the face of nature — the sun had sunk be- 
 hind the towers of Copenhagen, and the very clouds 
 were gathering dark and gloomy in the heavens — 
 presaging as they scudded asross the firmament, a 
 heavy fall of rain, perhaps a violent tempest. All 
 was dreary and comfortless, and Christina felt a 
 shivering sensation creep tlirough her frame, as she 
 looked on the cheerless scene without, so like to 
 that within her own bosom ! 
 
 In the wretchedness of the moment, the jewels 
 were torn from her brow, and from her garments, 
 and thrown aside in disgust ! 
 
 ' Wretched baubles ! how worthless do ye now 
 appear. He is gone for whom ye were put on — 
 what are ve now to me ? Oh, Christian! Chiistian! 
 
 Unpoubtcdly, my lord ! — and lo ! the breeze 
 candid, however, were we not to state that many of I fre-sheneth, for which our mariners only waited,— where art thou, my love ? Alas! all is silence. He 
 the thorouglifares are really haadsome and spacious, ' therefore my time is come 1' 
 
 who never heard my voice but with rapture, is now 
 
172 
 
 IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 loat to mc, forever ! And he woiiW have given mo 
 his kinsdom— he otfertd mc liia royal liiind— iind 1 
 
 refused ! vus I I refused tousccnd his tltfone ! But, 
 
 life of my soul ! it was for thee I made this cruel 
 sacriiice ! JIow would the sovereigns of Kurojie 
 have jeered and despised my adored Christiiin, hud 
 he mrrried a poor wretch like me ! Oh, no, no — 1 
 have saved thee, most beloved, from such horrible 
 disgrace ! Far dillerent be thy fate. United to the 
 daughter of son>c royal house, whose virtues shall 
 shed lustre on thee, and all around — happy in the 
 arms of such an one, nuiy'st thou forget Christina, 
 and her ill-fated love. liut oh, my royal nmstcr, 
 thou wilt even then, 1 well know, recall the memory 
 of her who loved tlice, as none other ever can.' 
 
 Christina was aroused from her sad soliloquy by 
 the entrance of her attendant with lights, and, hasti- 
 ly drj-ing up her tears, the memory of her ill-starred 
 aifection was ever after buried in her own heart. 
 
 The vessel proceeded on its course, and, after a 
 long and tedious voyage, reached at length the 
 shores of Ireland. Christina had dcteruiincd (know- 
 in" little or nothing of the country) to land wher- 
 ever the ship first came to anchor. Tliis chanced 
 to be in the bay of Dunkalk, and there, on the 
 coast of Louth, the wanderer took up her dwelling, 
 and subsequently founded her castle in the neigh- 
 borhood. Fortunately forherenterijrise, the ground 
 whereon it was erected, had been, from time imme- 
 morial, a waste moor ; had it been otherwise, she 
 might, perchance, have found the King of Domuark's 
 grant nuU and void, it boing more than probable 
 that the Irish proprietor would not have recog- 
 nised the right by Avhich that prince disposed of his 
 property. 
 
 It may well be supposed that Lord Filzwaltcr made 
 bat small delay in acting on the permission he had re- 
 ceived. So great, indeed, was his anxiciy to behold 
 the fur-faracd Lady of the Castle, that it required all 
 the reasoning Mark Roche could possibly bring into 
 the field, to dissuade the impetuous young nobleman 
 from seeking her presence immediately on receiving 
 her gracious message. Tlie following morning, how- 
 ever, he set out at an early hour, attended only by his 
 favorite, Mark. 
 
 Christina received the young lord most graciously. 
 "Without departing for a moment from her usual statc- 
 litlfcss of manner, she contrived to make her visitor 
 understand that his presence was agreeable to her The 
 young squire took his station at a respectful distance 
 
 (liis birth, being respectable if not noble, ho was in 
 
 conscJiuencc ushered in with his lord,) bo seemed, in- 
 deed, an uninterested listener, for he took no part in 
 the convcrsoiion. From his remote position, he had 
 an opportunity of surveying Christina unobserved, 
 and with his eyes riveted on her face, he drank in every 
 word she uttered, forgetting, in his delicious abandon- 
 ment, tluit Cliristina was a noble lady, and he a poor 
 squire depending on his master, even for a living. So 
 far had his imagination carried the reins, that when 
 Lord Filzwaltcr took the hvly's hand at parting, it 
 seemed to ilurk Roche as if he had received a morud 
 stab— the chill of cold despair shot through his heart, 
 and the bloo<l forsook his check. Determined to con- 
 ceal his unfortunate pa.ssion (alike sudden and ill- 
 placed) he turned to the window wliilst his lord took 
 leave of Christina. In a few minutes he recovered his 
 composare, and, bowing to the lady, followed the 
 young nobleman out of the room. 
 
 From that day forward, the enamoured Fitzwaltcr 
 believed himself a successful suitor. Scarcely a day 
 passed over without his paying a visit at the Castle, 
 accompanied by Roche. The latter would fain have 
 summoned courage to absent himself from her pres- 
 ence, who had so enthralled liis senses, but he could 
 not — the eft'ort was beyond his strength, and ho con- 
 tinued to gaze — and to adore in silence. Often would 
 he reason with himself, on the misery to which he thus 
 subjected himself, yet he could not refrain from ap- 
 proaching the syren, though fully convinced of the 
 danger he iocurrcd, iu doing so. 
 
 Though every visit served but to add fuel to the 
 flame which consumed him, yet ho took a sort of des- 
 perate delight in contemplating the charms of Chris- 
 tina, aye ! though ut every succeeding interview she 
 a|i|>eared more and more inclined to favor his 
 master. Wc may admire the fortitude which ena- 
 bles the red Imlian to laugh at his tormentors — aye ! 
 even while the scorching tlanio shrivels the muscles of 
 his frame, but Alark Roche displayed eqiud strength of 
 mind, when he sat within sight and bearing of his 
 lord's impassioned wooin|;, and (what was ten thou- 
 sand degrees worse) the daily increasing pleasure 
 which Christina seemed to take in his society. And 
 all this did Jlark Roche bear witli unmoved counte- 
 nance — seated at tlie window, he appeared sometimes 
 occupied only by the prospect before him ; ho would 
 at other times hum a snatch of an old melody iu so 
 low a tone, however, as to enable him to hear what 
 was passing between the lovers. lie had a high spirit, 
 and a strong mind — that young Mark Roche ! 
 
 Some months bad elapsed without bringing any 
 very material change, and Lord Fitzwaltcr resolved to 
 bring matters to a crisis. One day, accordingly, when 
 Christina appeared more than usually complaisant, he 
 seized the opportunity to make a proposal to her of his 
 heart and baud. Christina had long expected this — 
 she was, therefore, quite prepared, and thanking his 
 lordship for the honor be had done her, requested a 
 few days to consider the question, as her mind was not 
 quite made up on the subject of matrimony. Fitz- 
 gerald gladly consented — surely her answer was tan- 
 tamount to accepting his offer, could he, therefore, 
 hesitate about giving her the desired time ! — certcs. he 
 might well afford it, having such ii prospect of happi- 
 ness before hira. 
 
 'And, my lord,' added Christina, 'perhaps it would 
 be well to send Mark Roche hither to-morrow evening, 
 as I may haply have come to a determination sooner 
 than the appointed day, and I would not that your 
 lordship shoidd have the trouble of coming on an un- 
 certainty — it would be, in truth, rather awkward !' 
 
 ' I am grateful, fair Chrintina ! for this considera- 
 tion — thou would'st if possible cut short the term of 
 my suspense — how flattering is this attention ! Fare- 
 well, cwcet lady ! Roche shall await tliy jdeasuro to- 
 morrow evening !' 
 
 So saying, the young noble took his departure, fol- 
 lowed closely by his squire, who was scarcely conscious 
 of any tbing, so overwhelming was the shock given 
 him by the conversation he had just heard. 
 
 # * * * # * 
 
 When ]Mark Roche set forth next day on his jour- 
 ney to the Castle, no one could discover in his demea- 
 nour the slightest trace of the volcano which raged 
 within. There was withal an unwanton paleness on 
 his check that told of much mental sull'ering, and 
 there was also a sort of firm compression about the 
 full, rich lip, that gave token of some inward resolu- 
 tion sternly made. He arrived at the castle with the 
 air of one who had ' girded up bis loins ' to confront 
 a sore and heavy trial, from which he had vowed to 
 come forth victorious. Having internally renewed his 
 supplications for strength and fortitude, ho followed 
 Erica into the presence of her lady. 
 
 Christina arose as the young squire entered the 
 room, and without giving time for a single word from 
 Mark, she handed him a sealed letter, enjoining biiu 
 to lose no time in presenting it to his lord. 
 
 ' He will meet thee at the gate on ths return, and, as 
 thou vainest thy life, delay not a moment, but, turn 
 thy horse's head, and fl^ as swift as he can carry thee, 
 back to my presence ! — Haste thee, Mark Roche ! 
 haste ! away !' 
 
 'Thou should'st bo obeyed, lady, though death 
 stared mc in the face !' CKclaimec'. Roche, losing for a 
 moment the self-control for which he was so remarka- 
 ble. 
 
 ' I believe thee, Mark !— but, prithee, good youth ! 
 speed onward with thine errand !' 
 
 Mark waited to hear no more — whatever might be 
 Christina's puqiosc — whether of good or ill to his lord, 
 — it was suflicieut for biiu to kuow that the lady of his 
 
 love required his prompt obedience. It was happhicsi 
 to be employed in her service — even though it were to 
 bear bor consent to marry a rival. 
 
 Christina had not overrated Fitzwaltcr's impatience, 
 fur Alark found hiui (as she hud foretold) |)acing tho 
 court yard to and fro, in a fever of anxiety to know 
 the result. Darting forward to the gate, us JLirk np- 
 prouchtd, he eagerly exclaimed — 
 
 ' Well, Roche, my faithful fellow ! what news from 
 the castle ; Saw'st thou the lady Christina V 
 
 ' 1 did, may it please your lord>liip I and she bade 
 mc |>rescnt this letter to you with her kindest greeting 1' 
 
 Fitzwaltcr snatched the letter, which he opened with 
 a trcnddiiig hand, and Mark (without waiting to ob- 
 serve the ctfcei) turned his horse's lieud in the direc- 
 tion of the castle. His doing so was (piilc unnoticed 
 by his lord ; but the latter had scarcely read tho first 
 line, when he called out ! 
 
 'What! how is thisf — Roche! — I say, Roche!' Re- 
 ceiving no answer, be raised his eyes, and saw tho 
 young s(iuire galloping over the plain in the opposite 
 direction — 'What the foul fiend is the fellow about ? 
 Ho is mad — stark mad!' 
 
 But scarcely had he gone half through the letter, 
 when he struck his clenched hand violently against his 
 forehead: 
 
 'Ha! not so mad either! God! what a miserable 
 dupe am I! This comes forsooth of bringing hand- 
 some upstarts on a level with tljcir superiors. Curse 
 him! curse him — and her, too, the heartless, deceitful 
 syren! Sooth to say, I have got an answer! Oh! un- 
 fortunate that I am!' 
 
 Foaming tbns in vain and impotent rage, ho sought 
 tho solitude of his own chamber, to indulge unob- 
 served his grief and mortificatfon. Alas! poor Fitz- 
 waltcr! 
 
 But little time had Jlark Roche for anticipation in 
 his headlong return to the castle, where Cbrisiina her- 
 self received him at the gate, and in silence led tho 
 way to the princi]ial apartment. 
 
 'Thou hast made good speed, Mark,' observed the 
 lady, as she pointed to a scat. 'Permit me now to 
 ask whether thy haste proceeded from fear of Lord 
 Fitzwaltcr, (I told thee, thou knowest, that lUy life 
 was in danger,) or from curiosity to learn the cause 
 which induced me to request thy return hither?' 
 
 'It sprang from neither, most noble lady,' replied 
 the wondering Mark Roche. He took good care, 
 however, to give no hint of the real cause, for ho 
 Ijcgan to susijcct that bis p.assion was known, and that 
 some scheme to punish bis presumption was in agita- 
 tion. Yet, still he disdained to utter a falsehood, by 
 slieltering himself under either of the cases Christina 
 had put forward. 
 
 'O! very well, then, I see how it is — thy gallantry is 
 so great that thou wouldst at any time spur with neck 
 or-nought haste, to oblige a lady! Truly, thou art a 
 courteous youth.' 
 
 Mark Roche bit his lip until the blood almost flowed. 
 His proud heart swelled almost to bursting, as he 
 heard such a sarcasm from the woman for whom he 
 would gladly have laid down his life. A flush of in- 
 dignation crimsoned even his temples, and wils quick- 
 ly succeeded by an ashy paleness. Christina fixed her 
 eves on his varying countenance for a moment — 
 
 'Thou wilt be, methinks, a most devoted knight to 
 some fair damsel, should any such be found capable 
 of subduing that haughty and untamed heart of thine.' 
 
 The beautiful speaker stojipcd short on a sudden, 
 confused by a ipiick and flashing glance from the dark 
 expressive eye of Mcrk Roche. The look was so 
 sudden, so unexpected, and so full of tender re- 
 proach, that Christina was, for a moment, unable to 
 speak. 
 
 At length she resumed, and her voice was more 
 tremulous, though a smile was on her lip. 
 
 'Hast thou ever paid tribute to the blind deity, my 
 good Mark Roche? I very much fear that thou never 
 didnt!' 
 
 'Why docs your ladyship think so?' inquired the 
 youth, determined to say nothing that might convict 
 himself. 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 173 
 
 'Bccanso of that careless, independent spirit so visi- 
 ble in all thine actions. Thou wouldst truly, be a 
 ■pre'ty subject for a passion so tender as that of love ! 
 As well might ii lady listen to the soft whisperings of 
 an unchained bear — at least the one would bo as easily 
 managed as the other.' 
 
 This was spoken with a sort of nervous hesitation, 
 altogether unaccountable. 
 
 'Oh, Father of Mercy!' groaned tlio young squire, 
 losing all sense of caution in tlie insupportable agony 
 of the moment. Tor what am I destined! What 
 malignant fiend presided at my birth, that I am be- 
 come an object of ridicule to one — ' He suddenly 
 broke oft", and murmuring, 'Would that my feelings 
 were such as they have been painted — I might then 
 have been spared this cruel torture!' 
 
 He buried hts face between his hands, and tears 
 burst forth from his very heart. Forgetful of every 
 thing but his own extreme anguisli, he remained for 
 several moments motionless, but when he did remove 
 his hands, what a sight was there! Christina knelt 
 before him, with clasped bands and a face of blank 
 despair. 
 
 ' Mark — Mark Eoche ! have I so wounded thee, by 
 mine idle and unthinking raillery ! Oh, forgive me ! — 
 in mercy say that thou wilt endeavor to forget my un- 
 kindness, for Christina cannot live without the light of 
 thy smile ! — Oh cruel I cruel ! wilt thou not even look 
 upon me '.' — oh, Roche ! if thou could'st but know 
 how I have loved thee — how my heart hath yearned 
 towards thee from the first moment I saw thee stand- 
 ing on the drawbridge ! — and how I forced myself to 
 shew favor to that self-confident Fitzwalter only to 
 have thee near me during our interviews ! I marked 
 well thy mental struggles, and how thou did'st nobly 
 conceal thy love — but alas ! I feared that thouwould'st 
 never have ventured to declare thy sentiments, and I — 
 fool that I was ! — did but try to entrap thee into a con- 
 fession, when alas — alas ! 1 proceeded too far — and I 
 have hurt thee beyond all hope of pardon !' 
 
 The young man could scarcely credit the evidence 
 of his own senses. Was he really Mark Roche — or 
 Tvas the lady Christina kneeling before him ? She 
 Tvas — she "o-as, for her head — that beloved head, had 
 fallen on his knee, and her tears fell fast and thick. 
 In a transport of wild delight he clasped the beau- 
 tiful enchantress to his bounding heart. 
 
 ' Am I awake 1' he exclaimed, in the fullness of 
 his joy, ' am I awake ? — or is this but a delicious 
 dream ? — Oh, if it be such, may I never awake, 
 kind Heaven, to the misery I felt but a few moments 
 since ! But is it, indeed, true ':' he exclaimed, after 
 a moment's pause, (during which he held Christina 
 at ann's length, and then drew her back more close- 
 ly than ever, there being no manner of doubt of her 
 identity.) ' Can it be that the Lady Cnristina — the 
 noble — the admired of all hearts — she who looked 
 so lightly on the pretensions of the highest and 
 proudest — has she condescended to bestow her af- 
 fections on the lowly JIark Roche ? — Speak, lady ! 
 am I indeed so fortunate ?' 
 
 'It' thou considerost the possession of my heart 
 as a piece of good fortune, then art thou, indeed, 
 fortanate — for I tell thee, Mark! that thou art dear- 
 er to Christina than all the peers in Christendom !' 
 
 ' Forgive me, sweet laly ! — but it secmeth to me 
 almost incredible !' said Roche, half doubtingly. 
 
 ' Docs it so, really r' inquired Christina, archly 
 — ' Then allow me in that case, to produce the best 
 proof I can bring forward of my sincerity !' 
 
 So saying, she opened a side door, and, beckon- 
 ing to one within, a venerable priest appeared. 
 
 ' Now, Mark !' said the lady, while a bright flush 
 suffused her beautiful face, ' if thou hast no partic- 
 ular objection, I am quite willing that this gentle 
 man should perform the marriage ceremony — I have 
 had him in readiness for some time, as it would not 
 be quite so well that thou should'st sojourn here 
 after quitting thy master, without having our union 
 solemnized!' 
 
 Mark answered only by seizing her hand, and, 
 
 pressing it to his lips, in an ecstasy of delight. As 
 she seemed to expect an answer, however, he said, 
 
 ' Dearest, I am thine — thine — forever, ever thine !' 
 Christina, leaving Roche and the priest together, 
 retired to arrange her dress for the ai^proaehing cer- 
 emony, and, having summoned Erica, intimated that 
 she wished to make a speedy toilet, as she was 
 waited for below. 
 
 ' Erica, would' st thou believe that I am going to 
 give my hand — aye ! this very hand to Mark Roche ! 
 Nay, start not. Erica — ^I see what thou thinkest ! 
 But know, Erica, that I have not forgotten Chris- 
 tian — oh ! never, never I — For I love Mark Roche, 
 chiefly for the strong resemblance he bears in face 
 and figure to the lord of my earliest affections ! 
 Say, Erica I did'st thou never observe the likeness ?' 
 
 ' Lady, I did!' replied the damsel, 'that very 
 day when he first came here from his master — that 
 very time did it strike me that I had seen some one 
 he resembled. I could not call to mind who it was, 
 however, until your ladyship's sending for him to 
 your presence, and showing his master such un- 
 wonted favor (for I was not at all deceived, my la- 
 dy, as to the true object of your ladyship's regard) 
 induced me to observe him more narrowly, and 
 then it was that I startrd with surprise, as I traced 
 in him at once an astonishing likeness to his gra- 
 cious majesty, our own king Christian !' 
 
 By this time the arrangement was concluded, and 
 the lad}' descended with her maid to the apartment 
 intended for the ceremony. 
 
 [Concluded next week. 
 
 Portrait of Edmund Burke. — Tall, and appa- 
 rently endowed with much vigor of body, his presence 
 was noble, and his appearance prepossessing. In later 
 years, the first peculiarity which caught the eye as 
 Burke walked forward, as his custom as, to speak in 
 the middle of the House, were his spectacles, which, 
 from shortness of sight, seemed never absent from his 
 face. But, as yet, he had no habitual occasion for 
 such useful optical auxiliaries, and his bright eyes 
 beamed forth with all their overpowering animation. 
 A black silk ribbon, by which an eye-glass was sus- 
 pended, appeared on his frill and waistcoat. His 
 dress, though not slovenly, was by no means such as 
 would have suited a leader of fashion. His coat was 
 not very smart. He had the air of a man who was 
 full of thought and care, and to whom his outward 
 appearance was not of the slightest consideration; but, 
 as a set off to this disadvantage, there was in his whole 
 deportment, a sense of personal dignity and habitual 
 self-respect which more than compensated for the ab- 
 sence of the graces of the tailor. His brow was mas- 
 sive, and intellect seemed to have made it her chosen 
 temple, so illuminated it appeared with genius and 
 expression. They who knew how amiable Burke was 
 in his private life, and how warm and tender was the 
 heart within, might expect to see these softer qualities 
 depicted on his countenance. But they would have 
 been disappointed. It was not usual at any time to 
 see his face mantling witli smiles; he decidedly looked 
 like a great man, but not like a meek or gentle one. 
 He might advise an .anxious gentleman 'to live pleas- 
 ant;' he might, especially at this time, seem to John- 
 son a model of cheerful equanimity, but, assuredly, he 
 did not seem like a man to whom the world had 
 been easy. Nor had it been. His life had been a 
 constant struggle, and ho knew it well. He had 
 
 about the mouth, the stern glance of his eye, and 
 the furrows on the expansive forehead, were all the 
 sad ravages left by the difficulties and sorrows of 
 genius, and by the iron wliieh had entered the soul. 
 It was only, however, as years rolled on, and his 
 natural vehemence grew with the prejudices which 
 were indutsrionsly excited in certain quarters 
 against him, that these harsher peculiarities grew 
 painfully obvious. From the first, his inbcmlan 
 accent might very pecuHarly be distinguished when- 
 ever he began to address the house, and was not 
 always forgotten by those who listened to him even 
 when they were under the influence of his most 
 eloquent inspirations. His voice was of great com- 
 pass, and expressing the depth of his convictions, 
 gave much energy to the eommunicution of his 
 ideas. He never hesitated for want of words. His 
 utterance was rapid and vehement; but quick as it 
 was, his thoughts flowed forth with still greater 
 freedom, and threatened to overcome the power of 
 speech. As he spoke, his head was continually in 
 motion, and appeared now to rise and fall, and now 
 to osciliate from side to side, in a very sincular 
 manner, with the nervous excitement of the speak- 
 er.— [From Macknight's Life and Times of Burke. 
 
 Sir Richard John Gkiffiiii, Bart. — The Ga- 
 zette of Tuesday evening last, notifies the creation 
 as a baronet, of our countryman, Mr. Grifiith, whose 
 connexions with the government dates so far back 
 as the year 1S22, when he was employed to open up 
 the then inaccessible districte of the South of Ire- 
 land, by the construction of a chain of new roads 
 which to this day bespeak the great talents, as a 
 practical civil engineer, that he brought to bear on 
 the work. We next find him employed in deter- 
 mining the boundaries of all the parishes, town- 
 lands, and other denominations of land in Ireland 
 preparatory to the commencement of the Ordnance 
 survey of the country, on which occasion he deter- 
 mined upwards of 60,000 boundaries. So well did 
 he accomplish this important duty, that the govern- 
 ment sought his assistance to carrv out a similar 
 work hi Scotland, which appointment, however 
 Mr. Grifiith did not accept. ' 
 
 In the year 1825 he was appointed sole Commis- 
 sioner of Valuation for Ireland, and it ts, perhans 
 m connexion with this great national work that his 
 name is so familar to all Irishmen, to whom 'Grif 
 fith's Valuation' is a ' household word.' To such 
 a pitch of accuracy and uniformity, in all its details 
 has he brought this valuation, that it is now adont' 
 cdasa standard to regulate the value of land iii 
 Ireland, and legislative authority has made it the 
 basis for all purposes of taxation. 
 
 In 1826, Grifiith first commenced the construction 
 of his fameus Geological Map of Ireland, which we 
 are at a loss whether to admii-e most for the enero-v 
 displayed in undertaldng, single-handed, so gi»an 
 tic a work, or for the amazing accuracy of detail 
 with which it has been perfected. For this work he 
 was unanimously adjudged the A^^ollaston Palladium 
 Medal by the Geological Society of London 
 
 Contemporaneously with these great works Mr 
 Griffith, in conjunction with Sir John Boro-oyne and 
 General Jones, carried to a successful completion 
 that lasting monument of engineering skill the nari- 
 gation of the river Shannon. ' 
 
 His services to the country during the "reat fam 
 me wtre of the last importance. Being at that time 
 vice-chairman of the Board of Public "Work^ his 
 intimate knowledge of everv localitv In Ireland' ahd 
 the confidence reposed in him by the' gentrv enabled 
 lura to concert and carry out measures of relief bene 
 ficial alike to the landed proprietors and the poor 
 sufterers from that awful visitation. 
 
 been calumniated; he had been thwarted. His I In 18.51 he was appointed to the honorable posi- 
 
 ,^„n„o i,.wi i,„ 1 „„.,^: 1 X. i_- ___ . ^^ '. .ow of chairm.an of the Board of works, and in this 
 
 capacitj- with unlimited powers to carry out the 
 provi.sions of the Land Improvement Ac"t, which 
 under his auspices, proved a measure of infinite 
 b ■nefit to Ireland, though it is well known that 
 similar attempts failed both in England and Scot- 
 land. 
 
 In concluding this imperfect sketch of his services 
 we beg to add our hearty congratulations to the 
 worthy baronet on his weU merited recognition at 
 the hands of the State; and vveoanicstly wishthathe 
 may long Hyo among us, an ornament aUke to his 
 country and to the title lie now enjoys.— Daily Ex 
 
 means had been, and continued to be, scanty. He 
 had to fight for and to make good every step he 
 made in adviuiee. lie had to supply by his energy 
 the languor of his friends. He was constantly 
 under arms, and his life, more than that of ahnost 
 any other man, was truly a march and a battle. 
 All his troubles were impressed on his working 
 features, and gave them a somewhat severe expres- 
 sion, which deepened as he advanced in years, until 
 they became to some obscn-ers unpleasantly hard. 
 The marks about the jaw, the iirmncss of the lines 
 
174 
 
 IIIISII MISCELLANY. 
 
 IHTBBKSTINO Lectitbe.— Thc UctiiTO Kt the Smith- 1 the former unites two similnr ideas, while the other 
 »oni«n Institution on Wcdnesclny evening last by the seius upon to suparato ihcm a.s wide uBunder as the 
 Hon S S Cox was listened to with the warmest in- | poles ; hut, said lie, Ireland never malics a bull or 
 tcrest W a larce audience and gave perfect satisfac- '■ blunder ol the heart, no matter how many she may 
 lion It »as delivered under the auspii'cs of the Met- make otherwise. 
 
 ropolitnn Literary Association, and had for its subject 
 • The Peculiarities of Irish Humor." 
 
 Mr. Cox lomininied by defining wit and humor, in 
 nn ingenious and it struck us original stylo. The Irish 
 possess the latter more superabundantly llian any peo- 
 ple in the world. The Irish humor, he remarked, 
 could bo best judged at home ; it could hardly have a 
 fair appreciation in this country, liut there it is indi- 
 gonuous ; it was a stock of that tree which shed its 
 foliage over many other nations. 
 
 no gave ft lucid description of the Irish character, 
 which he said was distinguished by susccjitibility, viva- 
 citv, and ipialities which were more calculated to make 
 a nation interesting than successful. Humor is the 
 most essential clement of the Irish character ; it flows 
 in the blood as fresh and vital as ever, although Eng- 
 land since her second Henry has been endeavoring to 
 let it out. The lecturer then tou died upon the hered- 
 itary antagonism between the Saxon and the Irish 
 Celt, in the course of which he paid a high compli- 
 ment to the latter at the expense of the former. The 
 best and most noble blood of England, ho averred, 
 was Celtic, while the Uliited States of America should 
 feel proud that it derives more than half of its origin 
 from the same race. 
 
 The lecture wa-s richly interlarded mth anecdote and 
 details of quaint Hibernian humor, bulls, and blunders. 
 There was a kink in the Irish nature which no iron 
 can smooth out ; in riches or poverty, whatever his 
 condition, his mirth and native humor will not forsake 
 him, and from the very bogs, marshes, and miserable 
 mud cabins aiisc constantly the beauty and aroma of 
 his mirlhfulncss. ' Ireland,' said he, ' may be called 
 the Mark Tapley of nations ; she may be steeped in 
 misery to the lips, but she is jolly under all circum- 
 Btanees.' 
 
 He next touched upon Irish literature and her liter- 
 ary champions, a bright and shining galaxy ; her Sher- 
 idan, Oliver Goldsmith, Swift, Burke, Curran, O'Con- 
 nell, and a host whose writings have bequeathed a rich 
 legacy to English literature. Next the brogue of Ire- 
 land came under his notice, which, by some, is thought 
 indispensable to portray Irish humor; but the lat- 
 ter, he avers, has the right ring without regard to the 
 language in which it is spoken, although, when broad- 
 est, it is inlinilely fairer than the wretched idioms 
 gpokcn in many of the shires of England. 
 
 It is not alone by the brogue that an Irishman is de- 
 tected in foreign lands ; his humorous bulls and blun- 
 ders will betray his origin ; and here he recounted a 
 laughable anecdote, which had been originally told by 
 Miss Edgcworth, of one of her countrymen's adven- 
 tures in England, where in four days he made eight 
 palpable bulls. Thai lady, however, had discovered 
 bulls in Shakspeare, Milton, and other great writers, 
 including even thc Bible itself. The national propen- 
 sity for a shillelah fight was dwelt upon with particu- 
 lar gusto, and the Irish humor as exhibited at fairs, 
 although the most celebrated ("Donnybrook) is num- 
 bered among the past. Ireland, with its impetuosity 
 of heart and vivacity of intellect, he compared to a 
 noble but decapitated bird ; but nevertheless, with its 
 head cut oft', it is the fastest nation we have on record. 
 The Celt be pronounced dearly of Asiatic origin ; 
 there is the same extravagance in language, and in 
 this particular we ourselves betrayed a kindred stock. 
 The Oriental only anticipated his Celtic relative by 
 wishing that the shadow of the one he complimented 
 
 pcdition in Egyjit, occupied I'crim, with the conaent 
 of Turkey, who was then her ally. This was very nat- 
 ural, as Turkey, as well as England, was at war with 
 Franco, ami it was in the interest of both powers to 
 close up the lied Sen and to prevent a French fleet, if 
 It is, said he, a land where the foul runs over in a : it should be formed there, from lenving that sea. The 
 
 stream of jubilant laughter, although at the same time Englibh at that period built lortilicaiions on the Island 
 he drew a gloomy picture of her itnpending fate, her i and portions of them were still found einnding last 
 children rapidly giving way before the Sa.xon ami the year when the erection of new ones was commenced. 
 Scot. Yet, in an uprising of the nationalities of Eu- , In I.'!(I2 the English garrison evacuated Perim and for 
 rope, he drew a hopeful picture that Ireland might ; more than half a century the English flag ceased to 
 
 yet be regenerated. — [National Intelligencer. 
 
 float over the Island. The injustice of thc English 
 claim to the Island is two-fold. If the motive of the 
 occupation be thc pillage of the English vessel by the 
 inhabitants of thc Berber Coast it is altogether absurd, 
 for why should they then occupy Ptrim which is Turk- 
 ish territory. The claim of possession since 1799 is 
 likewise unfounded lor the occupation at that period 
 took place with thc authorization of the Ottoman Gov- 
 ernment and the fact of Perim's being Tut kish territo- 
 ry being thereby recognized, the occupation in 1S.')7, 
 without a like authorization, was entirely unjustifiable 
 
 Thc question is still pending between the English 
 and Turkish governments, the reports of the offer of a 
 pecuniary indemnity by England arc in circulation. 
 Such an offer is a natural admission of thc absence of 
 all title on the part of that country. In Constantino- 
 ple there is but one ojiinion with regard to the Eng- 
 lish claim : it is regarded as not having a shadow of 
 foundation. Perim is looked upon as, beyond dispute, 
 the properly of the Porte, it being within a very short 
 distaace of the Arabian Coast which entirely belongs 
 to Turkey. However, England will do everything to 
 keep thc Island, which by its position would be inval- 
 uable to her, and if she cannot have it by claiming it 
 she will pay for it. — [The Tablet. 
 
 TitE IsLAN'D OF Pekim. — Our readers are aware 
 that the agents of the English government ever anx- 
 ious to obtain in different portions of thc globe, mili- 
 tary and naval stations, and not too particular as to 
 the means of obtaining them or the right of occupa- 
 tion, a little more than a year ago, took possession, in 
 the name of her Brittannie Majesty, of the Island of 
 Perim. The exact date of thc occupation was, if we 
 
 recollect aright, thc 14tli of Febrmirj-, 18.')7. The , , , „ . 
 
 ,,,..',.., . r .1 A u- ,-. .r and contrary to the law of nations 
 
 Island IS situated at the entrance of thc Arabian Gulf „,, . . ..,, 
 
 and in the middle of the Strait which separates Africa 
 from Asia. It is positively the Key of the Red Sea. 
 Of the two channels which it forms the western which 
 is the wider is not navigable on account of the shoals 
 and rocks which obstruct it; the eastern channel which 
 vessels are obliged to take is not more than two thous- 
 and yards wide between Perim and Pilot Took which 
 lifts its tall head near the Arabian coast. No vessel 
 can enter or go out of the Red Sea without passing 
 under the guns of the fortifications at Perim. It has 
 been called a second Giliralter; but it is an error for 
 Perim by its position is far stronger than Gibraltcr. 
 It was doubtless the project of M. de Lesseps, the Suez 
 Canal, which suggested to the English Government 
 thc occupation of this island, that they might keep a 
 watch on all approaching by that way, their Indian 
 Empire and by the two stations of Aden and Perim 
 effectually close the Ked Sea to all foreign or inimical 
 vessels. 
 
 The British flag was planted on the rock called 
 Perim on the 14th of February, 1857, by a detach- 
 ment of the forces sent out to India, and not till two 
 months later was anything known about the occupa- 
 tion in Europe. There is always some reason, however 
 weak, assigned even for the most unjustifiable acts by 
 those who commit them, and when governments are 
 determined on having any of those important little 
 spots like Perim, which have been unnoticed by others 
 they can very easily satisfy themselves that they have 
 a right to it. The British government has never suf- 
 fered much from conscientious scruples on such trittng 
 subjects as right and validity of title. 
 
 Thc occupation of thc Island of Perim was ostensi- 
 bly motived by the statement that an English vessel 
 having been shipwrecked and pillaged in 1S5,5 on the 
 Berber coast, not far from the Red Sea, reparation was 
 demanded from the chiefs of thc nomadic tribes on 
 the coast, and as they were not able to find and de- 
 liver thc wreckers, the English agent at Aden pro- 
 posed the occupation of Perim as an indemnity for the 
 loss of the vessel and her cargo, and a guarantee 
 a"ainst the recurrence of like oft'enccs in future. The 
 Berber Scheiks, when brought to Aden, were of course 
 obliged to consent to whatever was rciiuircd of them, 
 and a sort of treaty was drawn up, by which I'erim 
 was handed over to that old oflcnder, the East India 
 Company. 
 
 The late President of the Board of Control, Mr 
 
 'I wish,' said an anxious ma to her careless son, ' I 
 wish you would pay a little more attention to your 
 arithmetic' 
 
 'Well, I do,' was the reply. 'I pay as little atten- 
 tion to it as possible.' 
 
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 regard to thc affair, eluded thc question and could give 
 mi.ht never grow less, and that he might live a thou- 1 no certain inlorraation as to what was ultimately to be 
 sand Tears ; while the modern Celt expresses himself done with thc island. He merely said that Per.m be- 
 in a wish that every hair on your honor's head might ! longed to England since 1799, ana that the intention 
 be a mould candle to light yon to glorv. Even the { of government was to make .t a free port as was de- 
 
 ■ ■,■,,..,,■ ■ 1 ■ 1. • . ! A„,\ Air Vernon Smith did not exactly confine 
 crtmmal in the dock wdl sometimes blarney thc judge mandcd. -mi- vemuu ■ . 
 
 who sentences him, who, in his tuni, will frequentlv ' himself to historical tnith in bus sta_t^ment. 1 erim 
 
 return the compliment. -^Vit and a humorous Irish , has not belonged to England since l-JS. "o-- '"" U 
 
 bull were most ingeniously defined. Both are, in the | ever belong to her. But, in that year England, fright- 
 
 lecturer's idea, analogous, although differing in effect ; ened at the probable conseqtienccs of the French ex Ho: 
 
 IMiblisht 
 
 Ageut. 
 
 np24 
 
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 an extensive LinaAiiY, lor the JVec and 'exclusive use of 
 
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IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 175 
 
 ADVEETISEMENTS. 
 
 Just I'i'ui.ismed. 
 
 nOJIE: ITS KULEK AND I&STITUTIONS. 
 
 ISy John Frnucis Miiguiro, M.I". 
 
 Cloth extrn, S1.2u. D. & J. Sadliek & Co., 16i "William 
 etfL'ct, Kew York. 
 l"oi' sulo by \V. JIicKjjr, 12S Federal st, Boston 
 
 11 17 
 
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 LIUItMlAM, (r„nn(.rlv junior piirtiicr in tlie linn of 
 , JiUKMiAM r.ii.iriiEKsJlia.^tiiktn the (lltl Slaml, GS 
 & ai Coniliili, <HH-iipu.l by lliu late linn, anil liclds himself 
 eaiLiiicss to supply all orUcis with which he uiay be lii- 
 
 voreil. 
 
 Ye Antique Cooke Store still llourisheth, 
 Asytte dide iu days of yorej 
 
 And ye Buusuam still catcrelli 
 For ye lovers of ancient loic. 
 al7 
 
 THE ' SOUTHERN CITIZEN. ' 
 
 JOIIX MITCUF.L will shortly commence a series of 
 'LETTiiits TO AN A-MJiiucAjr,' in the 'Southern Cit- 
 izen,' beiui^ 
 
 A NAKKATIVE OJ" 
 
 SEVEN YEARS IN IRELAND: 
 
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 Fell, 1 II Keach and Kneeland Streets, Boston, 
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 febl3 
 
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 athiscollin wanTo.iin, No. 1 Idvvis St., Koxburv 
 
 alilie-forsnle.andcllinp'lates 
 — I'rice of Graves, 83.60. 
 
 PKOSPECT0S. 
 
 j^.w^u .llMMXAXV ,, ,„„.,„.. On Saturday the 
 
 ^,,',,!' "■:'" '- - ■•■^■-' |."l'li>lied the lirst 
 
 ,;,.,|i, ,-,,,,; , , ,',', ,, " '''"' "ijo^e title, 
 
 II,,, lii, ,.,, , .,,,,, , ', ",'1'" "i""iile liiiowJedge of 
 
 ■.!■ M „.■ •„ 'r: '■; ,'''71 '".■>. "I Ireland, and tS the 
 11' i.scoi'iiim',',!. P"'"";"l elevation of the Celtic race on 
 
 minti^Un'u.fo^Uh"'" ^'" f:™'""'!" pages of closely 
 
 pectu- I'l , , ! ,-, 1, ",''■''"' " ■' ■' •'• ■ iiiiiini lo this pros- 
 year I.', ni.ii' N,' , ,,i , ' ', ,', ,''.',',' '. '■''/"■''_> '-ry ;or 82 a 
 
 prop.','. '1' , , ,, I ^ ' ; ',,, ,' ' ', ' ■' ■''"•"J,'t 18 
 
 tliegr , „ I,. '," ■ ,■ ''■''''■ "!!<"> 
 
 origil,;;! ... , ,.,, ,. , . i .,, ^ "" '."d 
 
 00111,1,^. \^r i„, , |,,Cui;,,,,U, VlHlu i,iM i"""; I" K 
 
 naturally rich ruKl leiliie, and' capable of pio'duc I'l g X 
 choicest flowers and fruits of literature, has hitherto^ lain 
 comparatively barren and unproductive Into tlVheltl w« 
 shall enter with a full contidence of its capabiHtic' ,Vut w h 
 a modest diltdence oi the skill which we shall bring to it" 
 
 It has long been a reproach to our race here, that while 
 
 ■ire er, ir''i ''''''■'' '"''T"' '""' ''""ntry— while we 
 
 ;',,,,,;",,;' ■',';'';'' ">' '" '"', ', -"f •''^ e>'«rything that is 
 
 he r ; ■,'■,;';, )■"""" '"1" '"''-■ ^•'lorti'! made to place 
 thctiu.^.Ji,ii.Mi..-i ol our people beioie the public eye, or 
 
 V„rl, T """"^ Y"" ''■""' ^'■'"" tlie calumnies with wiich 
 English hate everywhere pursues us. "^'^i^ 
 
 To correct, in some measure, tills crying evil it wan at 
 first intended to gather together a numbe? of Irishmen dis- 
 tinguished in the walks of literature, and publish monthly 
 a review, wliich tor sterling talent, should be second to 
 none published iiere or in Enorpe. 'I'he great expense con 
 .sequent upon an undertaking of this mamitude, deterred us 
 from the attempt, compelled" us to reliSquisli our TsifiS 
 and to substitute instead thereof n,,,. more unpretendrng 
 
 and to substitute instead thereof, 
 " Miscellany .^^ 
 
 We propose to re-produce in our weekly periodical the 
 writings ot many of the great minds who have gone beforl 
 ns, while we shall also cull from the current Irish litera ure 
 of theday such productions of merit as cannot fail to be 
 acceptib e to our readers. Our country is rich in legendry 
 lore, and the legends of the old laud, while they amuse 
 serve to instruct and to elevate. ' amuse, 
 
 We shall therefore publish such instructive tales and le- 
 |y"ttoes wliell'wTi' '™'' ""'* "'" '■™''"' "' °^ ""^ ''"P" 
 'Sat by the fire of a cold winter's ni^bt 
 Along with our friends telling tales of delight ' 
 
 We sh.all give faithful descriptions and illustrftions of 
 Irish antiqnities-of our ruined monasteries, our plundered 
 abbeys and churches ; and our pictorial illustrations of Irish 
 scenery and antiquities will present to loving minds many 
 familiar scenes of early childhood. We have secured the 
 services of talented artists, and each number of the Miscel- 
 lany wi I contain numerous illustrations executed iu the 
 best style ot art. ^ 
 
 We shall keep constantly before our readers the ancient 
 glory ot our country, and while we ponder with pride upon 
 the moral and inte lectual superiority of Ireland when 
 Enrfand and the rest of Europe was sunk in ignorance and 
 future"^™' we shall point to the past as an inBentive to the 
 
 The biographies of distinguished Irishmen will be an im- 
 portant feature in the Irish Miscellany, as we shall irive 
 biographical notices of Irishmen distiilguMied in eve rv 
 department of literature, science and art-of men di=tin- 
 §nd at the" ba?. '''"""* °" '""''= '" '"' church the senate, 
 
 It is our intention to republish the works of Irish writers 
 now out of print, m such a manner that they may be nrr. 
 served to future time as a memento of the old land and 
 serve to inca culate, in the minds of the rising generation 
 a iilial regard lor the land of their fathers. "ation, 
 
 Wo propose commencing with the liublin Penny JounxaL 
 a work whicli m its day enjoyed unbounded popularity, 
 -^y. shall devote one half of the Miscellany to each number 
 ot that nationa publication. To do this we have ordered a 
 
 iS"t hat i^'m-nal'i'i'il'he'h'h ";"'■ ™ •"=" ""^i P«cms ' prlnfet 
 m mat Jouinal 111 the In.-h hinguage can be reprinted in 
 Irish characters with lOngiish translation in 01 rs. Th^ 
 department ot the i! s,dlan,j will be in the hands of an Irish 
 gentleman every way competent to the task 
 
 The remaining eight pa-es of the Miscellany will be devo- 
 ted to the current news ol'the dav.to oiioiual articles tnlea 
 essays, poetry. &c. In pnlilies we shall "endea 01 oavoiti 
 those q,,e..t,ons which have divided our countrymem „ 
 dl,»cussthem 111 a nnuiiier vi.i.l ofollenee. ' 
 
 The InsI, M,sr.-Umi,i will be th, .roughly independent of all 
 political partic.s-tbe slave of none- Suih qulS?ons as a" 
 lect our countrymen here, we shall discuss with freedom 
 cal e™v!i°i'oi/ ' ^^"^ ™°''"'' '"''^"'^c'"''' and politi- 
 
 Thc editorial labors will be divided among several gentle- 
 men 01 ah, luv.mnl »,, t,u,.i 10 make the Miseetlanya. i-eU 
 coniegin-i at the III, 1,1,, ,,i ,,< cry family. -tVith these re- 
 v,\h,r,.„ ',' ' ,',','.",""," «■'' r r' ,'" "'■'^ support of every well 
 
 M. J. \\A1.S1I (i ( 11., i'URLISHERS. 
 
 Ao. 4 \A .vTEii .Stuijet, Boston Jfiss 
 (E?-A11 Communications to the Editors of theMlsiEL- 
 PubHsher' li'oslon mT s ' °' ^^' ''' ^'^"'^^^^ ^ Co., 
 
 K^; 
 
 of all the 111 
 
 ,,l I) 
 
 Aiieli 
 
 -1 l.l,',^ I, I,, I llis- 
 
 ,'i, r,,,;,, Jrl,,rS 
 
 ,, |.-,'iii,nv ,i„. 
 
 ", ,,,,.1 -\ Voi-k, 
 lies for I'osling 
 incert. Lecture, 
 
 Own,,- I,, ill,, :,, ,11 ,,;,■:, . , ],, r , i;- i,ii«ino.«s, they have 
 
 been obli;;,,,! l„ i,,l,l ses ami « a.uoiis to their heretofore 
 
 ample acoommodauons, to which they give their personal 
 attention. ' 
 
 V'ThanktXiI for past favors thev would resnccffullv so- 
 licit a continuance of iiublic patronage. 
 
 KELLY & CUiVNiNGUAM, 2 Williams Court 
 
 fcbl3 Boston 
 
 engraved at short notice 
 
 SE. SAMiOHN V> hnlesale and lietail Dealer in Gold 
 .and Silver Watche.i. Jewelry, Silverware 
 Fancy Goopr,, &c. No. 134 Federal Street; Boston. 
 
 |i_r'Parliciilar attention given to Repairing Watches 
 ClockSj Jewelry, &c. &c. " ^,,(,13 
 

 ^rlrctti) frprcssl]) for % Ivisjj ||lisrcllanir, 
 
 PKOM THE " SPIRIT OP TUE NATION." 
 
 P O E T 11 Y 13 Y T PI O ]M A. S 13 A. V I S . 
 
 AI.I.EGUKTTO, 
 
 A,CGQHPAHfflEST F©B TIE PIAISG-feiTE. 
 
 — ,-= V v-\- 
 
 iP -gV^ _ iTi ^e^e- '— -^ (TO — - 
 
 1. Oh! weep those days, those pc - n;il days, M'liou Ire - laml bnpL'lessly enmpluirrj. Oh ! weep those clays, the po - nal (lays,Wlieii 
 
 2. They bribocl llio fini'icthoy bribed the si m, To sell tliu priest and rub the sh'e. Their doi;i;s wore taiii;bt a - like to run I'p • 
 
 -•*:g: :g3» 
 
 ^ «/ ar 
 
 .^ .^ 
 
 111 
 
 
 
 oT>J - less per - Beeution reign'd ; WIien,ycar by ynnr.For serf and peer,FrPsh eriioltios were made by law, And.fill'd with hate. Our 
 -on the scont of wolf and friur. Among the ]i;iiir.()r on the iinKir, W ere hid the pious and the true — While trai-tor knave, .Vnd 
 
 -A-^-^-i . I T — — —V-T 1- ^--i — ^-T-a."^ ^'UT l-S^*''*»-r 1 • — ' T 1' " ' — CIT.J! r 
 
 fe:.:f_ •:!■:— J r.qitf -'X:^-^ ^^^ - -i t^—^—^—*—\-~-~ P \ — i-^-i-^- 1 — -li-^ -^-^ — ^ « :^*— d • i •£ 
 
 tjz g^q 8 A — i-«»-H-J-<a -ai— *-•-!£=> ^-c=> 1 — e-. *-J •-# — i—o^.g ^._^.-i 
 
 1 
 
 ':?i^^ 
 
 — r- 
 
 ^-^-^=f=isi:iiil^iiiii?;^sii 
 
 
 Sen-ate safe To weld aneweaeh fetter's flaw 1 Oh ! weep those days.those pe - iial days.— Tlieir niein-'ry still on Ireland weis^hs. 
 
 recreant slave Had ricli-ei, raiih,aud ret - inue. And, e.v - iled in those jio - nal days. Our ban - ners o - ver Europe blaze. 
 
 ii > 
 
 
 S S S- g- I > -^ -s- -^ g g- -^ -^- -1^ -# -s ^ -Ii- * • -*- -» 9 * :^ ;g; 
 
 
 3. 
 A stranj;er held tlie land and tower 
 
 Of many a noble fugitive ; 
 No Popish lord had Innlly power, 
 The peasant seareo had leave to live : 
 AImvc his head 
 A ruined shed, 
 No tenure but a tjT.-mt's will — 
 Forbid to plead, 
 Forbid to read. 
 Dis-imi'd, disfranchisM, imbecile — 
 T\liat wonder if our step betray.s 
 The fiecdmau, born in penal days ? 
 
 4. 
 
 They're gone, they're gone, those penal days, 
 
 All creeds are equal in our isle ; 
 Then grant, Lord, thy plenteous gi-ace. 
 Our ancient feuds to reeoneilc. 
 Let all atone 
 For blood and groan, 
 For dark revenge and open wrong ; 
 Let all unite 
 For Ireland's right, 
 And drown our griefs is Freedom's song ; 
 Till time shall veil in twilight haze, 
 The memory' of those penal days. 
 
VOLUME I— NU^iBEli [2. ] 
 
 BOSTON, SATURDAY, MaY 1 1858. 
 
 [ PRICK FOUR CENTS. 
 
 NATIONAL BIOGRAPHY. 
 
 W I I. L I A M D A n G A X 
 
 jprovcdthat in the pructical ;iflairs of life, Iri-l;;nd | com]: i Idn^ any practical acl i^■^emL■nt, of tl em- 
 I'lO.-fsessed within her own bord.rs, minds not only I sclvti — hat it waa ncces-aiy for thuni to be guided 
 
 ipable of achieving splendid aucccrs, but of dtvot- 
 
 Thc great industrial exhibition of Ireland, ii :^ its fruits to the advancement of the interests of 
 the year 1S53, brought the name of this di.-,tii j eir fellow countrymen. The' world has been 
 
 and diiected by niii d .f a in .re inren'ive last 
 tlan they posse-sed — that, however uscfi.l they 
 mii^ht bo as hardv toilers and workers, it was nec- 
 
 guished Irishman prominently before the world, anu L..ught to look upon Irishmen as incapable of ac- essary for thenr to be orgai.i'.ed and inat.ucced by 
 
178 
 
 HUSH iMISCELLANY. 
 
 Iiis protitalilo I Willis, wliich will l>c at onco reeotrniscd liy those fa- 
 
 Williiim 
 
 Ilie result ot the Uublm l.xlubiliou «us .m cm b His career has hcen one of uhedilmsB iiiul iniluMry 
 
 bocUment of the triumph of successful merit 
 ncliievcd by an Irishman, on Irish soil. 
 
 ■William Dargan is the son of a fanner of mod- 
 crate means, of an old respectable family in the 
 county of t'arlow, who in his youth received only 
 that education usually given to persons of his class 
 which is however superior to what is generally sup- 
 posed by natives of other countries. Endowed by 
 nature with a vigorous frame and masculine intel- 
 lect, he followed the pursuits incidental to his po- 
 sition in life, without any of those indications, 
 which, not uiifrequcntly, manifest themselves in the 
 youthful minds of those possessing superior mental 
 endowments. 
 
 Possessing a facility in accounts, and a good 
 handwriting, he found employment in a surveyor's 
 ollice, which he afterwards left with the hope of 
 finding cmplojnnent under lui Irish grand jury on 
 public works, on Ids own account. In this, how- 
 ever, the enterprising young Irishman was disap- 
 pointed. It is seldom indeed, such bodies appreci- 
 ate native talent: they prefer giving their patron- 
 age to English and Scotch men. Dargan, like 
 great numbers of lus countrymen, was compelled 
 to quit his native land in search of employment on 
 a foreign soil where his talents and genius could be 
 rewarded. 
 
 At this time the Holyhead road, which was con- 
 sidered ot a most gigantic character, was about be- 
 ing constructed under the superintendence of the 
 great engineer Telford. Here our fellow country- 
 man found immediate employment, and an oppor- 
 tunity of displaying the great powers of his practi- 
 cal mind. The superior talents of Dargan attract- 
 ed the notice of Telford, who was not slow in ap- 
 preciating and rewarduig them. Having complet- 
 ed his engagement, he returned to Ireland, carry- 
 ing with him the strongest recommendations of his 
 master, and soon obtained employment. He exe- 
 cuted a work of great dillicidty in nautical naviga- 
 
 gan 
 
 In the year 1852 upwaids of 200,000 Engtl.^h tour- 
 isls visited Ireland, owing to the cheap fares charged 
 under the 'Tourist Trallic System,' so ably carried out 
 by Mr. IJoncy. This great inllux of tourists largely 
 increased the profits of the railway companies and sat- 
 isfied the English tourists that the natural beauties of 
 Ireland were as well worth visiting as the more dis- 
 tant scenery of the Uhine. Tlic great exhibition, or 
 World's Fair in London had taken place the previous 
 summer, and it was thought desirable by many that 
 Ireland should have her exhibition as well as her more 
 wealthy sister. 
 
 It remained for William Dargan to give form and 
 substance and tangiliility to the design. This he was 
 not long in accomplislung. Knowing the capabilities 
 of Mr. Koney, and his peculiar capacity for the work, 
 Mr. Dargan, with characteristic modesty, placed Mr. 
 Honey in tlic front of the undertaking, and insisting 
 upon keeping himself in the back, only required that 
 Mr. Roney should, as his representative on the com- 
 mittee, become its secretary. 
 
 Ireland was just rising like a spectre from the grave, 
 after the famine of 46, 47, and 48. The poverty of 
 ber resources, and, we regret to add, the lack of pub- 
 lic spirit in too many of her sons, led numbers to ex- 
 pect a disastrous failure to the enterprise from the 
 want of the necessary funds. This soon vanished be- 
 fore the noble raunilicenco of William Dargan who 
 at once placed £20,000 at the disposal of the commit- 
 tee. Mr. Roney visited the various governments of 
 Europe as the agent and representative of the commit- 
 tee, and was most kindly received by the Emperor of 
 the French, the Kings of Belgium and Trussia, and 
 by the various Dutch, Austrian and other continental 
 authorities, and by all the great manufacturing inter- 
 ests of every kind. It was apprehended that the short 
 period that would elapse between the opening of the 
 Irish and the closing of the English exhibition would 
 preclude all hope of success. This idea was soon dis- 
 appointed; applications from the leading contributor; 
 
 He has conferred immcasurablo blessings upon his 
 country and no title or patent of nobility uould add 
 additional honor or ea«t n greater halo around the 
 name of William Dargan. 
 
 A c|ueen cou make it Ijclted knight, 
 
 A nuir(|uit., duke, und a' tliut ; 
 But nil liulifbl niuu'h itbuuu tier uiif;lit, 
 
 Ijuid laitli, liu jiitiuiiiiu la' Itmt!* 
 
 tion on the river Shannon, and also important to .the Crystal Talaco became so numerous, that the 
 works on canals in the King's and Queen's eoun- building as orii^inally contemplated was soon found to 
 ties. I be inadcMiuale to the purpose, and had to be enlarged 
 
 The extensive introduction of railways into Ireland at a considerably increased expense. Tins for a time 
 opened up to him a new channel of industry, and en- | was a matter of some embarrassment to the commit- 
 nbled him to accomplish his most splcnded' and difii- tee, but William Dargiin speedily removed it by add- 
 cult aohievcments. Our space will not permit us to ! ing fCilOO more to their funds. Even this was found 
 point out his great works in detail, or to call attention j too small, and the patriotic Dargan added £14,000, 
 to the engineering ditliculties he has surmounted with, ' more to the funds of the committee, making in all 
 seemingly inadequate means. At the present time he , £40,000. 
 has completed, as nearly as we can cstinmte, a thou 
 
 and miles of railway in Ireland, whose execution is 
 the admiration of the engineering world. An 
 American writer of a recent date, speaking of Dar- 
 gan's works, says that much of it was done uniler cir- 
 cumstances as to locality and the naliiro oftlie manual 
 labor apparently available, that render it scarcely less 
 surprising in its way than is the elevation of the Ti- 
 tanic blocks at Thebes and Palmyra to an altitude 
 incomprehensible to an observer of the present day, 
 because of the seeming inadequacy of the means to 
 the results.' 
 
 Mr. Dargan is natur.illy of a retiring disposition. 
 He avoids all public display, paying the strictest at- 
 tention to his business engagements and fulfilling his 
 contracts with fidelity and punctimlily. As an em- 
 ployer he has no superior; it is a matter of rivalry 
 »nJ ambition to work for him. Not onlv is ho a rail- 
 
 The work was projected, designed and completed 
 within a year. At twelve o'clock, on the 1 2lli of May 
 IS.'i.l, the Irish Exhibition was opened by the Lord 
 Lieutenant, assisted by the Mayor and Corporation of 
 Dublin and other distinguished bodies. The eyes of 
 llic world were upon Ireland; she proved herself equal 
 to the task, and Ireland was proud of her noble 
 achievemert. It was indeed something of which she 
 had a right to be proud. It was the result of her own 
 genius— the triumph of Irish skill— of Irish industry. 
 it was filled with producU by means entirely her own, 
 without the aid of government, by her own persever- 
 ance and indomitable energy and through the patriotic 
 endeavors of William Dargan the Irish Exhibition of 
 1853 won for itself a name of which Irishmen may 
 be proud— to which they can point as an evidence of 
 what Ireland can accomplish in her own behalf by the 
 self-reliance and energy of her own children, when left 
 
 way eontractor, but a railway owner, a steam packet ', free to developc the resources of their country, untrain- 
 proprictor, and an extensive farmer. His farms arc ' mcUed by the incubus of foreign government, 
 conducted on scientific principles in several parts of The likeness of tliis distinguished Irishman, which 
 the countrv- and with the best results. In his farming I we give herewith, is a faithful and accurate rcpresen- 
 opcrations he is a perfect model to his fellow farmers ' tation of him from a drawing by Anclay, engraved by 
 
 A TOUR TO CONNAUCHT. 
 
 LETTKIl li. 
 
 To the Editor of the Dublin Penny Journal:— 
 
 Sir — So then, you do think my excursion to Con- 
 naught worth the fractional part of a penny, and con- 
 sider it safe to enter it on your bill of fare in prefer- 
 ence to the prudential course adopted by your 
 cotemporaries, of selecting from works already printed 
 and approved of by the public. Thanks for your 
 patriotism, and so I shall proceed. 
 
 Where was I! Just at the nine mile stone, where 
 the western road skirts the ample demesneof the Duke 
 of Lcinster. The deep sinking of the Royal Canal 
 bordering the left — the high wall and thick plantation 
 of the park the right of the road — a cloudy pillar of 
 dust coming adown the westward, powdering our 
 whiskers and pestering our eyes, as we rolled along 
 this delile. Here an ugly sort of a curse elicited from 
 the li])S of the English bagman against the jealousy of 
 all aristocratic engrossers, who must needs plant 
 themselves in, and with their trees and walls limit the 
 cycseope and breathing loom of freemen, 'fc), sir, sir,' 
 suys a quiet looking man who sat between nie and the 
 Manchester rider, 'the duke is doing a world of good; 
 and is not at all to be spoken ill of. If you knew of 
 all the poor pcojde he employs. There are itovf — I 
 wish you could see them — hundreds of men at work in 
 this very demesne, excavating ground to make a great 
 sheet of water, and Hood the whole river valley of the 
 Rye; and acres upon acres of the fine meadows are to 
 be turned into a long lake; I am sure 1 do not see 
 what this is all lor but to give work to llio poor.' 
 'Yes, my good friend,' said I, 'you arc right. The 
 Fitzgerald family have already deserved the good 
 opinion of their unprejudiced countryman, look at 
 this great estate around you; it was brought into its 
 present state of improvement by the present noble- 
 m:vn's grandfather, the first Duke of Leiuster. If this 
 English gentleman had stood, as I have done, on tlie 
 tower of Carton, and look east and west, he would 
 have observed one of the best managed estates in Ire- 
 land. Conitbrtable slated fiirm-houscs, two stories 
 high, with all their atTompanying homesteads; the 
 fences hedge rowed; the lands well drained and di- 
 vided, and in the centre of the property a town laid 
 out in the English style, and all this done by one man. 
 Would that all the great proiuietors of Ireland had 
 followed the first Duke of Leinster's example, whose 
 desire was to have around him not an idle, sporting, 
 presuming, carousing set of squireens — but a comfort- 
 able, industrious, humble, but at the same time, self- 
 respecting yeomanry — a class of men so much want- 
 ing, and, alas, still so scarce in Ireland. The first 
 duke was eeriainly worthy of all his honors; while 
 living in the s])lendor becoming one who was lord of 
 72,000 acres in this county wo are now jiassing 
 through, he had the sterling good sense to know how 
 to improve his great possessions in ihc way best suited 
 to ser\'e his country — he was no rack-renter — he prac- 
 tically applied the old English adage — 'live and let 
 live.' ' 'Pray, sir, what sort of a house is Carton?' 
 'It is what all houses are where improvements and ad- 
 ditions are resorted to, to make up for original defi- 
 ciency. It was not originally intended as the resi- 
 dence of the lords of Kildare, it was erected, I believe, 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 179 
 
 by a General Ogk'thorp. Tlio present diiko has done 
 much — changed its front, Vmilt large additions, and 
 made it as perfect as good arrangement can — (observe 
 his grace's head wlien next you see hln; ho has the 
 organ of order at least well developed on his close 
 cropped cranium,) still after all Carton is but a poor 
 house for such a demesne and such a, property; but 
 there are a great number of jMCtures, and a good col- 
 lection of books. There is a St. Callicrinc there, by 
 Doraenichino, which to my mind is the first picture in 
 Ireland, but give me, after all, portraits; they furnish 
 the observer with such long trains of historical recol- 
 lections. Here is a noble portrait of Gerald, tlie ninth 
 earl. I looked on him, but not angrily, because he 
 slew my ancestor, Shane O'TooI, in the glen of Jmale, 
 and sent his head as a pretty pickled present to the 
 Mayor of Dublin; no, I forgave this wrong, because 
 that he so bravely quelled and brow beat tliat haughty 
 prelate, Wolsey. Tliere, also, is that extraordinary 
 portrait of the Fairy Earl — the Pilgrim Ger.aldine. 
 There, also, before the hall-door of the eastern front 
 stands, methinks in rather an incongruous place, 
 amidst plots of odorous plants and parterres of dahlias 
 and roses, the ancient stone council table of the earls 
 of Kildare, when they dwelt in their strong hold of 
 Maynooth. It lay buried there ever since tlie castle 
 was sacked by the lord deputy in Henry the Eight's 
 time, but has lately been dug out. If I were the Duke 
 of Leiuster I would build a great gothic hall, and 
 place it in the centre; I would hang the tapestried 
 walls with armor, and the fretted roof with the pen- 
 nons, and would emblazon the deeds of the bold Ger- 
 aldines who sat beneatli that table, and would sur- 
 round it tlms with things in keeping with its ancient 
 character, and not leave it as it now stands, a support 
 for fio.-ver-pots, and a platform on which my lady 
 duchess dries her mignionette, sweet pea and tulip 
 roots.' We entered Maynooth after passing Carton 
 demesne — it looks neat, like all Irish towns, without a 
 stir of business; unlike most, as not deformed with 
 mud cabins. It was almost entirely rebuilt by the 
 aforesaid first Duke of Leinster, wlio desired to make 
 it somewhat like an English market town; but, alas, 
 it is easier to build houses than to change the spirit 
 and habits of a people. It is now celebrated as con- 
 taining the great Roman Catholic College, which 
 stands fronting you as you drive down the street. The 
 centre building was erected by a butler of the late 
 Duke of Leinster, who out of his savings erected it as 
 a private mansion; he little thought of all the Latin, 
 and logic, and dogmatic theology it would subsequent- 
 ly contain. This college is daily enlarging itself; and 
 so it should, if meant to supply the immense and rap- 
 idly increasing Roman Calholic population of Ireland 
 with clergyman. To me it seems to extend iiself 
 without any view towards uniformity, and to be 
 straggling in its hugeness, more like a large barrack 
 than a college. It does not want for discipline, as I 
 am told, but it wants venerability — it may have aca- 
 demic seclusion, and no doubt it has, but it is deficient 
 in the air, the unction, in that scholastic, grey sobriety 
 that characterize Oxford and Cambridge in England, 
 or Padua or Salamanca on the continent. 1 prefer 
 casting my eye and feasting it on yonder old castle. 
 I remember well, in my younger days, driving under 
 yonder archwayed tower that led into the the ballium 
 of this Geraldine fortress — the high road ran under it 
 then. What a grim, gloomy, prison-like pile is this 
 keep; was it ever inhabited since the traitor fosterer of 
 Silken Thomas betrayed it to the lord deputy! Ob- 
 serve, as you pass by — confound those coaches, they 
 get on so fast one cannot settle eye or mind on any 
 thing — but do if you can, observe that many of the 
 quoins and of the very few ornaments belonging to 
 this castle are of calcarious tufa, a recent fresh water 
 formation, and by no means common or abundant in 
 Ireland. It appears to bo a soft, perishable material, 
 and yet there it has stood for centuries, as quoins in 
 the old fortress; nay, more, I have seen it in the island 
 of Holme Patrick, near Skerries, form windows, door- 
 cases, and the cryptic roof of a chapel, said to be built 
 by Saint Patrick, but which certainly is one thousand 
 
 years old. Maynooth docs not boast alone of modern 
 collegiate notoiiety; Gerald the eighth Earl of Kildare, 
 the greatest warrior of his race since the days of his 
 ancestor Maurice — ho wlio was made by King Henry 
 ruler over all Ireland, because all Ireland could not 
 rule him — he who excused himself for burning the 
 cathe Iral of Casliel, by assuring his majesty that he 
 would not have done it were he not sure that the arch- 
 bishop was therein — he who kept all Ireland under 
 dread of his iron arm — perhaps to make up his ac- 
 counts at last, and produce a fair balance sheet in the 
 next world, founded a college here, with provost, vice- 
 provost, and fellows, and endowed it with lands around 
 the tower of Tahadoe — by-the-bye, Tahadoe tower is 
 one of the finest in Ireland, and the beauty of its situ- 
 ation is great. Beyond a doubt I could say a great 
 deal about round towers, and would do so now, b.av- 
 ing my own opinion as well as others on this disputed 
 subject, only that 1 understand there is a premium 
 now offered for tlie best essay on the subject, by the 
 Royal Irish Academy, and, sir, I do not desire to fore- 
 stall the market; perhaps I may be one of the candi- 
 dates, seeing as how I have an interest in the matter, 
 my ancestor. King O'Tool, as all the guides at Glen- 
 dlalough assert having given the ground for the build- 
 ing the oldest of them to Saint Kevin. 
 
 Leaving Maynootli, the coach passed on by the 
 ruined church of Lara Brien. 'There,' says the hon- 
 est young man who had not long ago defended the 
 Duke of Leinster against the insinuations of the bag- 
 man, ' there,' says he, 'besides hundreds of the Fitz- 
 geralds, lies the great Brian Borohme.' 'How do you 
 know that, my friend- ' 'Why, because all the neigh- 
 bors say so; and sure it's called Lara Brian after him 
 — and were not his spurs dug up, which his grace the 
 duke now has, and you may see them any lime you 
 like in his study — and a fine brave pair of bleeders 
 they are, with rowels as large as two-and-sixpennies-— 
 and sure it stands to reason that if his spurs were 
 buried here, his body must have been along with them; 
 for King Brian, do you see, was like all Christian 
 knights, buried with sword and shield, boots and spurs, 
 and all his armor — so at any rate says our chapel clerk 
 and schoolmaster, that is a great antiquary entirely — 
 he can't be astray, seeing as how he has Dr. Keating's 
 History of Ireland at his finger's ends.' 'Friend,' says 
 I 'you are quite wrong. The hero of Clontarf was 
 not interred here; neither was he at Kilmainham, as 
 the learned Francscan, Peter Walsh reports — but he 
 was conveyed to Armagh, and buried there beside the 
 great altar. The holy men of the Abbey of Swords 
 raised him from the fatal spot where the base of Bruo- 
 der, tlio Dane slaughtered him, and along with his 
 gallant son Murrough, who fell in the arms of victory; 
 and brought him to Duleek. There the monks of that 
 monastery took charge of him, and furthered him to 
 Louth Abbey, from whence with solemn chaunt and 
 requiem he was conveyed to Armagh. So, friend, I 
 find your chapel of Lara Brian must be content with 
 possessing tlie relics of humbler men.' We drew near 
 Kilcock — it is undoubtedly a very poor and ugly place, 
 in the midst of a very fertile soil — strange that this 
 so often occurs in Ireland, when the richer the country 
 is the poorer is the town. 'Is this a great place for 
 cock-fighting?' says the English rider 'that it is called 
 Kilcock'; Ha, ha, ha, I to be sure am not the first 
 who have had a fair hit at the number of places ia 
 Hireland that by th' ir names denote the pugnacious 
 character of your people — Kill this and Knock that. 
 Slew here and Drum there — at all events preserve me 
 from this here place, for I am sure it^would well nigh 
 break the heart of a better cock than I am, to sojourn 
 here one week.' Here the farmer broke into a horse 
 laugh, and swore that it would be no hard matter to 
 find a better cock than him, seeing he was but acock' 
 ney. 'Gentlemen,' says I, 'as you are in a merry 
 mood, perhaps I may add to your humor if I tell you 
 that this town we have just passed is called after a 
 worthy dame who was abbess of a nunnery here, and 
 her name was Saint Cocca, aunt, as some say of Saint 
 Patrick, the nurse, as others have it, (dry, 1 suppose,) 
 of Saint Keiran.' 'Well, now,' cries the bagman, 'if 
 
 ever there was a practical bull, this here is one, to 
 have a woman and an abbess called Mrs. Cock.' The 
 wit of coach travellers is generally coarse, and this is 
 but a specimen, which I may not further enlarge on. 
 The hill Cappagh was now near at hand; what a rich 
 tract of f'l'i ding land. The road, in my younger days, 
 wended bravely over its summit, and though not three 
 hundred feet above the level of the sea, it perhaps is 
 the highest point between the bays of Dublin and Gal- 
 way. How unlike most other islands is Erin its 
 
 mountainous districts all around the shores — its centre 
 only just so elevated as to allow a drainage towards 
 the Shannon, which also unlike every other island 
 river, runs parallel with the greatest length of the isle. 
 Cappagh hill forms the high land that divides the 
 streams falling into the Boyne and LifFey — from hence 
 is a noble view of almost the whole of the ancient 
 kingdom of Meath. Perhaps not in Europe, except 
 its mediolanian namesake, the Milanese — is there so 
 much good land mixed with so little bad, as within 
 its circuit. No wonder that the kings of Meath were 
 so often monarehs of Ireland. No wonder that the 
 hills of Tara, of Usneach, of Skreen, were so famous 
 — and here, also, was the great fair of Tailtecn, where 
 all the Irish lads and lasses met to get married, and 
 where, as now at Ballinasloe, there is a splendid show 
 of fine cattle— so in these primitive days along the 
 sides of the hill ot Tailtecn were ranged pretty girls 
 and brave boys, and then after the young people had 
 for a sufficient time cast sheep's eyes at one another, 
 and after the parents had made proper bargains and 
 .arranged family settlements, games, and sports, and 
 feats of activity began, which were similar, and not 
 perhaps inferior to the Istmean or Olympic games of 
 Greece — human nature is the same in all times and 
 places — the young must marry and be given in mar- 
 riage — and what great difl'erence is there between a 
 mother bringing her daughter to range her with others 
 along the side of a ball-room, and so make a show of 
 her, and the Milesian mother of olden time leading 
 her blushing girl to Tailtecn, to sit modestly on the 
 green clover, and with downcast diamonds every now 
 and then peeping out from beneath her long eye-lashes, 
 to spy whether ihe boys from the opposite side of the 
 Hue were cocking their bonnets at her. I remember 
 not long ago, travelling through the county of Down, 
 and witnessing a practice not unlike that of Trailteen. 
 After the cattle, sheep, and pig business of the fair was 
 over, along the sides of the road leading to the fair 
 green, and on the smooth, grass-covered ditches, all 
 the neighboring unmarried girls were seated, clothed 
 in their gayest attire; and though nothing in the least 
 indecent or riotous was practised, j'et I was assured 
 that here they were assembled to rnn the chance of 
 getting lovers, and, of course, husbands. Pardon this 
 digression, good reader, it was only resorted to in 
 order lo break the dull uniformity of the country from 
 the time you leave Cappagh hill until you get to the 
 Boyne — but, Mr. Folds, here I will pause, and beg of 
 you to recollect when you commence my next letter, 
 tliat we halted at the Boyne 
 
 Tekence O'Toole. 
 
 ILvpriNEss OF Children Children may teach 
 
 us one blessed, one emdable art — the art of being 
 easily happy. Kind nature has given to them that 
 useful power of accommodation to circumstances, 
 which compensates for many external disadvanta- 
 ges, aad it is only by injudicious management that 
 it is lost. Give him but a moderate portion of food 
 and kindness, and the peasant's child is happier 
 than the duke's; fi'ee from artificial wants, unsa- 
 tiated by indulgence, all nature, ministers to his 
 pleasures; he can carve out felicity from a bit of 
 hazel twig, or fish for it successfully in a puddle. 
 I love to hear the boisterous joy of a troop of rag- 
 ged urchins, whose cheap playthipgs nvo" nothing 
 more thfin mud, sjiow, sticks, or oyster shejls, or 
 to wfttch t)ie quiet eiyoyment of a hnlf-clothed, 
 hftlf- washed ftdlow of four or five years old, who 
 sits with a largo i-iisty knife and a lump of bread 
 and bacon at his father's door, and might move the 
 envy of an alderman. 
 
180 
 
 IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 KILLARNEY. 
 
 It is scarcely necessary to inform our readers that 
 tlic Killamey lakes arc tlirce in number, and distin- 
 guished as the lower, middle, and upper lakes. Each 
 of these presents a character of scenery totally distinct 
 from the others. The lower one, which is studded 
 with rocks, wooded islands, covered with a variety of 
 evergreens, is chictly distinguslicd for its elegance and 
 beauty; the upper one, which is the subject of our en- 
 graving, for its wild sublimity and grandeur. The 
 middle lake combines; in a great degree, the charac- 
 teristics of the other two. It is not our intention in 
 the present number to enter on a descriptive sketch of 
 thi.s enchanting region, to which we shall have fre- 
 quent opportunities of returning. We prefer indulg- 
 ing our readers" taste for legendary lore, by presenting 
 them with the following beautiful tradition, as told by 
 an accomplished Englisman, Jlr. T. H. Bayley, author 
 of so many delightful lyrics. 
 
 There was once upon a time, near the western coast 
 of Ireland, a romantic valley inhabited by a few peas- 
 ants, whose rude cabins were surrounded by the most 
 luxuriant trees, and sheltered by mountains rising 
 almost perpendicularly on every side. Ireland has 
 stiil many beautiful green vales, but there is not one 
 80 deeply, so securely nestled among the hills, as the 
 one of which I speak. Add the depth of the deepest 
 of these lakes to the height of the loftiest mountain 
 that towers above us, and you may (hen form some 
 idea of the deep seclusion of this forgotten valley. 
 
 Norah was the prettiest girl in the little village. 
 She was the pride of her old father and mother, and 
 the admiration of every youth who beheld her. The 
 cottage of her parents was the neatest in the neighbor- 
 hood; Norah knew how to make the homeliest cham- 
 ber look cheertui, and the honeysuckle round the 
 casement was taught by her hand to twine more grace- 
 fully than elsewhere. 
 
 There was bat one spring of water in this valley; it 
 was a little well of the brightest and clearest water 
 ever seen, which bubbled up from the golden sand, 
 and tlicn lay calmly sleeping in a basin of the whitest 
 marble. From this basin there did not appear to be 
 any outlet; the water ran into it incessantly, but no 
 one could detect that any part of it escaped again! It 
 was a fairy well! 
 
 In those days there were fairies, bo says the legend, 
 and so says Crofion Croker, that inimitable historian 
 of the little people of Ireland in the olden time; ours 
 is not a story involving in its detail national habits 
 
 THE UPPEll LAICE OF laLLAliXEY. 
 
 and characteristics; on such ground who would dare 
 to compete with him? Not I. 
 
 To return to the well; it was, as I said before, a 
 fairy well, and was held in great veneration by the in- 
 habitants of the valley. 
 
 There was a tradition concerning it which had time 
 out of mind been handed down from parent to child. 
 It was covered with a huge stone, which, though ap- 
 liarcntly very lieavy, could be removed with ease by 
 the hand of the most delicate female; and it was said 
 to be the will of the fairy who presided over it, that 
 all the young girls of the village shouid go thither 
 every evening after sunset, remove the stone, and take 
 from the marble basin as much water as would be 
 sulllcient for the use of each family during the en 
 suing day; above all, it was understood to be the 
 fairy's sirict injunction that each young maiden, when 
 she had filled her pitcher, should carefully replace the 
 stone, and return to her parents wiihout one sad 
 thought to drive away sleep from her pillow. 
 
 This could not last forever; Norah was formed to 
 be beloved, and soon a stranger youth came to the 
 valley — a soldier — one who had seen llie world. He 
 was clad in armor, and he talked of lirighter scenes: — 
 ah, could there be a brighter scene than that lone val- 
 ley? He dazzled the poor girl's eye, and he won her 
 heart, and when she went at sunset to fetch water from 
 the fairy well, Coolin was always at her side. 
 
 Ilcr old parents could not approve of such an at- 
 tichmcnt. The young soldier's stories of camps and 
 courts possessed no charms for them, and when they 
 saw that Norah loved to listen to him, they reproved 
 their child for the first time in their lives, and forbade 
 her in future to meet the stranger. She wept, but she 
 promised to obey them, and that she might avoid a 
 meeting with her lover, she went that evening to the 
 well by a difierent path to that which she had been 
 accustomed to take. 
 
 She removed the stone, and having filled the piteh- 
 , er, she sat down by the side of the well and wept 
 ■ bitterly. She heeded not the hour; twilight was fast 
 fading into the darkness of night, and the bright stars 
 which studded the heavens directly over her head, were 
 reflected in the crystal fountain at her feet. 
 
 I Her lover stood before her. 
 
 'Oh! come not here,' she cried, 'come not here. I 
 have promised not to meet you; had I retnmed home 
 when my task was done, we never should have met! 
 
 II have been disobedient; oh, why did I ever see you ? 
 you have taught me how to weep." 
 
 'Say not so, dearest Norah,' replied the young sol- 
 dier; 'come with me.' 
 
 'Never — never!' she emphatically exclaimed, as she 
 hastily arose, and advanced from the well. 'I, who 
 never broke my word, have broken it to-night! I said 
 I would not meet you, and we hare met.' 
 
 She uttered this in an agony of tears, walking wild- 
 ly forwards, whilst Coolin, with her hand clasped in 
 both of bis, walked by her side, endeavoring to pacify 
 her. 
 
 'Your fault, if it be one,' said he, kindly, 'was in- 
 voluntary; your parents will forgive you, and when 
 they know how tenderly I love you, they will no 
 longer reject me as their son. You say you cannot 
 leave them; well, well, I perhaps may stay here, may 
 labor for them and for you. What is there I would 
 not resign for my Norah? Yon are near your home; 
 give me one smile; and now, dearest, goodnight.' 
 
 Norah did smile upon him, and softly opening the 
 wicket, she stole to her own chamber, and soon foil 
 asleep, full of fond thoughts of the possbiljty of her 
 parent's sanction to her lover's suit. 
 
 She slept soundly for several hours. At last, awak- 
 ing with a wild scream, she stjirted from her bed. 
 
 'The well ! the well !' she cried; 'I ncglucttd to re- 
 place the stone. It cannot yet be morning — no — no 
 — no, the gray dawn is just appearing, I will run — I 
 shall he in time.' 
 
 I As she flew along the well-know path, the tops of 
 |ihe eastern hills were red with the near approach of 
 isnnrisc. Is that the first sunbeam that gilds yonder 
 mountain? No, it cannot be — she will yet be in time. 
 
 Norah had now reached a spot from whence, look- 
 ing downwards, she could see the well, at the distance 
 of a few hundred yanls. She stood like a statue; her 
 eyes were fi.xed; one hand grasped her forehead, with 
 the other she pointed forwards. So suddenly bad 
 amazement arrested her flight, that her attitude re- 
 tained the appearance of motion; she might have 
 passed for the statue of a girl running, but she was 
 motionless. The unclou<led morning sun wius shining 
 brightly on the spot; the spring, once so gentle, was 
 now sending forth a foaming torrent, which was rap- 
 idly inundating the valley. Already the alarmed vil- 
 lagers were rushing from their cabins, but Norah did 
 not move; her hand was still pointed towards the spot, 
 but she appeared unconscious of danger. 
 
 Still the foaming torrent pound forth, and the 
 water approached the spot where she stood. Coolin, 
 who had been seeking her everywhere, now ran to- 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 181 
 
 wards lior; liis footstep aroused her, and crying, 'My 
 parents — save them !' she fell at his feet. 
 
 He boro her in his arms up a hill which was near 
 thorn; still the torrent raged behind them, the vast 
 flood became wider and deeper. 
 
 When they reached the summit of the hill, it ap- 
 peared to be a wooded island; water surrounded them 
 on every side, and their resting-place became gradual- 
 ly smaller and smaller. 
 
 Many other green islands were to bo seen, some less 
 extensive than that on which they had found a tempo- 
 rary security; and these gradually grew smaller and 
 smaller, and vanished one by one. 
 
 'Oh! that we were on the summit of yon mountain,' 
 said Coolin; and kissing Norah's pale cheek, he cried, 
 'Is there no hope, my poor girl, my own dear love?' 
 
 'My parents — my parents!' exclaimed Norah, 'where 
 are they? Oh! they have perished, the victims of their 
 only child's disobedience!' 
 
 Clasped is each other's arms, the lovers awaited 
 their doom. The waters still rose higher and higher 
 — tlie island became indistinct — it was a speck — it was 
 gone. 
 
 The cause of the calamity having expiated her error, 
 the wrath of the fairy was appeased. The water rose 
 no more, but the beautiful valley of the fairy well now 
 lies buried under the clear waters of the Lake of Kil- 
 lamey. 
 
 ANNALS OF DUBLIN. 
 
 [Continued.] 
 
 859. Malachy, king of Ireland fought the battle 
 of Drummoy against the Danes of Dublin, where 
 many of them fell. 
 
 86.5. The son of Gahan defeated the Danes of 
 Dublin, and killed Odolb Micle. 
 
 871. The Danes of Dublin plundered Munster. 
 Imar, king of the Danes of England and Ireland 
 died. 
 
 878. S. Cianau's Church, Duleek, wasplundered 
 by the Danes, and many people taken prisoners. 
 Barith, the chief of these mercUess plunderers was 
 afterwards killed and burned in Dublin. This was 
 attributed to a miracle of God and S. Cianan. 
 
 SS.5. Flann, the son of Malachy, king of Ireland, 
 ■was defeated in a battle by the Danes of Dublin, 
 ■where Hugh, son of Connor, king of Connaught, 
 Lergas, bishop of Kildare, and Donogh, son of 
 Maelduin, abbot of Kildelga and other churches, 
 and many others were killed. 
 
 890. Cluniai-n at the head of the Danes of Dub- 
 lin despoiled Armagh, partly destroying the great 
 church, and levelling to the ground divers other 
 editices, and carrying away seven hundred and ten 
 of the inhabitants. 
 
 897. The Danes were driven from their garisonin 
 Dublin, nnd out of Ireland by the son of Muiregen, 
 by the Lagcnians, and by Maelfinna assisted by the 
 men of Bregia ; they fled, leaving many shipsbehind 
 them. 
 
 916. Kildare ■ivas plundered by the Danes of Dub- 
 lin. 
 
 917. A furious battle ■was fought in this year, on 
 the 17th of October, between the Irish and Danes, 
 at Dublin. Imar, and Sitric commanded the Danes 
 in this battle. There fell on the side of the Irish, 
 Niall Glundubh, son of Hugh FinUath, who -was 
 king of Ireland for three years. Connor O'Masil- 
 eachluin, heir apparent to the throne of Ireland. 
 Hugh, the son of Eochagan, king of L'lidia, Maol- 
 mith, the son of Flanagan, lord of Bregia, Maol- 
 craoibbe O'Duibhsionnaigh, lord of Oirgliiall, Mael- 
 craoibbe, son of Doilghen, lord of Tartan, Ceallach, 
 Bon of Fogurty, lord of the south of Bregia, Crom- 
 man the son of Kinnedy, and many other nobles too 
 numerous to be mentioned. 
 
 918. A battle w.vs fought at Tigh mac Eochy, in 
 Kianacta of Bregia, by Donchad the son of Flan, 
 son of Malachy, against the Danes, and countless 
 numbers of the Danes fell in it, and the Irish ob- 
 
 tained satisfaction for the loss of their chieftains in 
 the battle of Dublin, for there fell in this battle as 
 many of the nobles of the Northmen as the Irish 
 lost of chieftams and plebians in the battle of Dub- 
 lin. 
 
 919. Godfrod, grandson of Imar, settled at Dub- 
 lin, and in a short time afterwards phuidercd Ar- 
 magh, ■\vith a numerous host, the Saturday before 
 S. Martin's festival, but he spared the churches, 
 the Coledoi and the sick. He plundered the coun- 
 try all around — west, as far as Inislabhradha — cast, 
 as far as the river Bann, and north as far as Moy- 
 I'Usen ; but the party that went nortMvards were 
 watched and defeated by Murtogh, the son of Niall, 
 and by Agncrt, the son of Murchadh, who killed 
 manj' of them, but the darkness of the night ap- 
 proaching, the remnant of the Danes escaped. 
 
 924. Murtogh, the sonof Neill, and the XJltonians 
 defeated the Danes at the bridge of Cluan no Crxiim- 
 thcr, on Friday, the 28th of December, -where eight 
 hundred of the Danes were killed together with their 
 chieftains, Albdarm, the son of Godfred, Aufe and 
 Roilt. 
 
 The other part of the Danes who were stationed 
 at Ath-Cruithne, had suffered a week's famine un 
 til Godfred, lord of the Danes of Dublin came to 
 their assistance. 
 
 923. Faelan, king of Leinster and his son Lorean 
 ■were taken by the Danes of Dubhn. 
 
 92.5. Godfred and his Danes fled from Dublin, 
 but rettmied at the end of Six months. 
 
 928. Godtred with the Danes of Dublin demol- 
 ished Derc-Ferna, where one thousand people were 
 killsd. 
 
 934. Clonmaenoise ■was plundered by the Danes 
 of Dublin. Same year Donchad the son of Flann 
 reduced Dublin to ashes. 
 
 93.5. Amlave, the son of Godfred, lord of the 
 Danes, set out from Dublin to Loch Kibh, in the 
 month of August, and he carried away thence by 
 force, Amlave Ceanncarach and his Danes, after 
 having destroyed their ships. 
 
 The Danes of Dublin fled from their garrison 
 there, and passed over to England. 
 
 936. Amlave the sonof Godfred returned to Dub- 
 lin, plundered KilcuUen, and led many captives out 
 of it. 
 
 Donchad, king of Ireland, and Muirchertach, 
 having joined all their forces together, marched 
 with a niunerous army to Dublin, and laid seige 
 to the garrison ; they despoiled and plundered all 
 the possessions of the Danes from Dublin to Athy. 
 
 937. The Danes fled from Dublin. This was at- 
 tributed to the prayers of Macthalius, patron saint 
 of the city. 
 
 938. Blacar, the son of Godfred, returns to Dub- 
 lin. 
 
 939. Muirchertach Mac Neill, king of Oilech 
 came to Dublin, and the Danes gave him hostages. 
 
 940. Clonmaenoise and Kildare were plundered 
 by Blacar, son of Godfred at the head of the Danes 
 of Dublin. 
 
 941. Muirchertach na g-Cochall g-Croiceann, son 
 of NeiU Glundubh, king of Oilech, the Hector, (i. c. 
 the bravest,) of the west of Europe in his own time 
 was killed at Ardee by Blacar, the son of Godfred, 
 lord of the Danes of Dublin, on the 26th of March. 
 The Danes on the day afterthefall of Muirchertach, 
 plundered Armagh. 
 
 942. Dublin was devastated by the Irish, viz. by 
 Congalach son of Maolmitheaeh, heir apparent to 
 the throne of Ireland, assisted by Braen, son of 
 Maohmorda, king of Leinster, and by Kellach, son 
 of Faelan, heir apparent to the throne of Leinster. 
 They reduced to ashes all their houses, fortifications, 
 ships, &c., led captive their ■women, sons, plebeians, 
 &e., killed their soldiers, and totally cxtii-pated the 
 Danes, save only a small number who fled in a few 
 ships to Delginis (Delginny.) 
 
 943. Blacar, one of the chiefs of the Danes was 
 
 driven from Dublin, and Amlave, settled there af- 
 ter him. 
 
 944. The Danes of Dublin plundered Clonmae- 
 noise, and all the other churches of Meath. 
 
 945. Kory O'Caniiananled an army to Slane, and 
 was joined by the Irish and some Danes, viz. by 
 Congalach, son of Maolmethedh, and by Amlave 
 Cuaran, a Dane, They defeated the Danes of Dub- 
 lin. In this battle great numbers were killed and 
 drowned. 
 
 Scoly O'Hegan, lord of Dartry, Garvey, son of 
 Murray Tanist of Hy-Crimthan, and Hugh, the son 
 of Tiernan O'Ruaire, fell fighting in the thick of 
 the battle. Dublin was this year plundered by 
 Congalach, king of Ireland. 
 
 946. Congalach, king of Ireland fought the bat- 
 tle of Dublin against Blacar, son of Imar, lord of 
 the Northmen. In this battle fell Blacar himself 
 and sixteen hundred of his people were killed, 
 wounded or taken prisoners. 
 
 948. The round tower of Slane was burned by 
 the Danes this year. The tower at this time was 
 full of relics and religious people, among whom was 
 Caoineacair lecturer of Di^^dnity at Slane, among the 
 relics were the Crozier of Saint EUama, and the 
 best bell in all Ireland. 
 
 A blood}' battle was fought this year between the 
 Irish and Danes, that is, between Eory O'Cannanan 
 and the Danes of Dublin on the festival of St. An- 
 drew precisely. In this battle the Danes were de- 
 feated -with great slaughter ; sLx thousand of their 
 bravest men -were left dead on the plain, not reckon- 
 ing others of inferior note. Kory heir apparent to 
 the crown of Ireland, fell fighting in the thick of 
 this battle. Imar Tanist of the Danes fell also ; 
 Godfred, the son of Sitric, and a few men survived. 
 
 949. Godfred, the son of Sitric with the Danes of 
 Dublin, plundered Kells, Downpatrick; Ardbrec- 
 can, Tulan, Disirt, Kiarain, Kilskerry, and other 
 churches. They totally devastated Kells, carried 
 away more than three thousand prisoners with gold; 
 silver, and other riches. 
 
 In this year the Danes of Dublin ■were afflicted 
 with scurvy and dysentery. 
 
 954. Congalach, king of Ireland, fought a battle 
 against Amlave, son of Godfred, lord of the Danes 
 of Dublin, in which he himself, with many other 
 Irish chieftains, lost thair lives. 
 
 959. Lightning which originated in the south- 
 ■west, passed through Leinster and killed a thou- 
 sand persons, and some herds in the neighborhood 
 of Dublin. 
 
 960. Sitric Cam (the stooped) set out in his ship 
 to plunder Hy-Colgan, but Amlave at the head of 
 of the Danes of Diiblin, and the Lagcnians checked 
 his design. Amlave shot Mm with an arrow through 
 the thigh. 
 
 Sitric -was routed and his people slaughtered, but 
 he made his escape by taking flight with his ships. 
 
 965. An incursion was made this year by the 
 Danes of Dublin and the Lagcnians into Bregia, 
 which they plundered. On this expedition, Car- 
 roll, son of Lorean, heir apparent to the crown of 
 Leinster, was mortally wounded. 
 
 976. The Danes of Dublin fought the battle of 
 Biothlann, against the Lagcnians, in which were 
 killed Augaire, son of Tuathal, king of Leinster, 
 and Murray, son of Riau, lord of Hy-Kcnsellagh, 
 and many others. 
 
 977. Donall Clacn, king of Leinster, ■was taken 
 prisoner by the Danes of Dubhn. 
 
 978. The battle of Tarah -ivas fought this year, by 
 Malachy, the son of Donall (afterwards king of Ire- 
 land,) against the Danes of Dubhn and of the Is- 
 lands. In tills battle the Danes were defeated and 
 slau"htcred ; many brave Irish chieftains fell also in 
 the thick of this battle. 
 
 Amlave, after this battle, passed orer into Scot- 
 land, and died a penitent in Ily-Columbkille. 
 
 979. Ainlavc, the sou of Sitric, chief lord of the 
 
182 
 
 HUSH MISCELLANY. 
 
 Daneii of Dublin, went to Ily-ColunibkiUe, on a j 
 pilgrimogc, wliere he died a good penitent. ' 
 
 882. The Danes of Dublin plundered Glendn- 
 logh. I 
 
 1)85. Xnelkiam O'Mniglmc Comhnrbn, of St. Co- 
 lunibkillc, received a most cruel mnrtyrdoni from 
 the hands of the Danes of Dublin. 
 
 OSS. Malaeby, king of Ireland, fought the battle 
 of Dublin against the Danes, in which he killed n 
 countless number of them. After the battle he laid 
 siege to their garrison for twenty nights, during 
 which time they had no drink but salt water. They 
 surrendered on whatever conditions he wished to 
 receive them. MaUichy received them to mercy, on I 
 condition that they would pay to the monarch of 
 Ireland forever one ounce of gold for every cultivat- 
 ed garden in their possession. 
 
 902, The Danes of Dublin plundered Ardbrcccan, 
 Donaghpatriek, and Xluinetirocain. 
 
 Imar was txpelled from Dublin. 
 
 903. Sitric, the son of Amlavc was expelled from 
 Dublin. 
 
 994. Imar returns to Dublin. 
 
 The Danes of Dublin plundered Donaghpatrick. 
 
 The ring of Tomar, and the sword of Carolus were 
 forcibly carried away by Malachy, king of Ireland, 
 from the Danes of Dublin. 
 
 Imar fled again from Dublin, and Sitric takes his 
 place. 
 
 99-5. Mahon, the son of Carroll, lord of Ily-dun- 
 chadha was killed in Dublin by Maolmorda, the son 
 of Murchad, in revenge for his father. 
 
 997. Malachy, king of Ireland, and Urian Boru, 
 marched with an army to Dublin, and obtained hos- 
 tages from the Danes. 
 
 Malachy, with the men of Mc.ith, and Brian, with 
 the men of Munster, marched to Dublin, and carried 
 away hostages and much wealth from the Danes. 
 
 998. Kildare was plundered by the Danes of Dub- 
 lin. 
 
 In the same year, Malachy, king of Ireland, and 
 Brian Boru, marched with an army to Glcnmama, 
 where they were met in defiance by the Danes of 
 Dublin ; a furious battle was fought, in which the 
 Danes were routed and slaughtered. Amongst the 
 slain were recognised Harold the son of Amlave, and 
 Coilcn the son of Etigcn and many others of the no- 
 bles of Dublin. 
 
 Malachy and Brian proceeded to Dublin, and re- 
 mained a week there ; they carried away thence gold 
 and silver and prisoners, burned the fortress and 
 expelled Sitric, lord of the Danes. 
 
 999. The Danes settled again at Dublin, and gave 
 hostages to Brian Boru. 
 
 1001. Brian Boru marched to Dublin, and ob- 
 tained the hostages of the men of Meath and Con- 
 naught. 
 
 1012. The Lagenians and Danes waged war against 
 Brian Boru ; Brian marched against them, and plun- 
 dered Lcinstcr as far as Dublin. 
 
 1014. The Danes of the north and west of Europe 
 were defeated by Brian Boru, and by Malachy, king 
 of Meath, in the battle of Clontarf, near Dublin. 
 
 1014. Malachy, king of Ireland, marched to Dub- 
 lin, at the head of the Southern Ily-Xialls and Ily- 
 Maoldoraidh ; they burned the fortress and all the 
 houses around it. 
 
 1017. Brcc, son of Mnolmordha, son of Murchad 
 king of I.einstcr, was blinded, in Dublin, by Sitric, 
 the son of Amlavc, who took him by treachery. 
 Bree died for the loss of his eyes. 
 
 1015. Sitric, the son of Amlave, at the head of 
 the Danes of Dublin, plundered KeUs ; they car- 
 ried away rich spoils and many captives, and mur- 
 dered many in the middle of the church. 
 
 1021. Tgaire, the son of Dunlaing, king of Lcin- 
 ster, defeated Sitrick, the son of ^Vmlavc, and the 
 Danes of Dublin, with great slaughter, at Derge- 
 Mogerog, in the county AVicklow. 
 
 1022. Malachy, king of Ireland, defeated the 
 Danes of Dublin, at Atboy, near Tlachtga. The 
 king lived but one month after this battle. 
 
 1020. Murtogh, sonof Congalach, lordofOphaly, 
 was killed by the Danes of Dublin. 
 
 The Danes of Dublin were defeated the same 
 year at Loch Uein, by lloan, heir apparent to the 
 throne of Tumor. 
 
 lO.'iO. The Danes of Dublin, plundered Ardbrac- 
 can, burned two hundred persons in thcstonc church, 
 and led captive two hiuulred more. 
 
 1035. Reginald, the son of Imar, lord of AVater- 
 ford, was killed in Dublin, by Sitrick the son of 
 Amlave. 
 
 Sitric, the same year, plundered and 1)urnrd Ard- 
 brcccan. 
 
 103G. The Danes of Dublin plundered Skrccn and 
 Duleek, in Meath. 
 
 lOI.J. The Danes of Dublin, under the command 
 of Imar, the son of Harold, slaughtered the X'ltoni- 
 ans, in the Island of Kathlin, off the north coast of 
 •Antrim. Three hundred of the Vltoniims were 
 killed, together with Randal O'Heoehadha. 
 
 1052. Maclnambo plundered Fingall, and burned 
 the country from Dublin to Albene. The Danes of 
 Dublin made opposition, and fierce engagements 
 took place outside the fortress of Dublin, where 
 many fell on both sides. Eachmarcaeh, the son of 
 Reginald, lord of the Danes fled from Dublin, across 
 the sea, and Maelnarabo, assumed the lordship of 
 the Danes. 
 
 1070. Murchad, the son of Dcmiod, son of Mael- 
 nambo, lord of the Danes and of Lcinstcr, died in 
 Dublin. 
 
 1072. Dcrmod, son of Maclnambo, king of Lein- 
 ster, of the Danes of Dublin, and of the Southern 
 half of Ireland, killed and beheaded in the battle of 
 Odhblia, on Tuesday, the 7th of the Ides of Febru- 
 ary. Tins battle he fought against Conner O'ile- 
 laghlin. King of Meath. 
 
 1074. Dunan, first archbishop of Dublin, died. 
 
 1075. Donall JIac Morogh, kuig of Eeinster and 
 of Dublin, died of three nights sickness. 
 
 Mortagh, O'Brien took Dublin. 
 
 1080, Torlogh O'Brien marched with an army to 
 Dublin, and through Jleath ; and Melaghlin, at- 
 tended by the successor of St. Patrick, who carried 
 St. Patrick's crozier, and by the clergy of Munster, 
 submitted to him. 
 
 inS4. Gillpatrick, bishop of Dublin, was drowned. 
 
 1086. Melaghlin, the son of Conner, marched to 
 Dublin, but was defeated by the Danes and Lage- 
 nians. 
 
 1088. The Danes of Dublin, Wexford, and AVa- 
 tcrford, attempting to plunder Cork, were defeated 
 with great slaughter by the Ily-veachs of JIunster. 
 
 1090. Murtogh O'Brien marched through Lcin- 
 stcr, at the head of the Jlomonians and Danes of 
 Dublin, and plundered various districts of it, and 
 also Moybra, as far as Atboy. 
 
 1094. The Moraonians, under the command of 
 JIurtogh O'Brien, expelled Godfrey, lord of the 
 Danes, from Dublin. This Godfrey had ninety 
 ships at Dublin. 
 
 1095. A plague raged throughout Europe this 
 year, of whioh Donngus, bishop of Dublin, and 
 many other holy bishops and abbotts died. 
 
 1 102. The men of Ireland marched to Dublin tliis 
 vear to give battle to Magnus and the Xorwegians, 
 who came to plunder Ireland. They made peace 
 with the Irish for a year, Murtogh O'Brien gave his 
 daughter in marriage to Sicraid, the son of Magnus 
 with much riches, and precious articles. 
 
 1103. The Danes of Dublin were slaughtered by 
 the Irish. 
 
 Magnus, king of Norway and of the Islands, who 
 returned this year to conquer Ireland, was killed, 
 and his people slaughtered by the Ultonians. 
 
 1105. Don.all, the son of-Vmalgadh, Ardehehom- 
 arba of St. Patrick, (-Vrchbishop of jVrmagh,) went 
 
 to Dublin this year to make peace between Donall 
 O'Loughlin and Murtogh O'Britii. 
 
 1107. Donall, son of Ti igc O'Brien, was cast in 
 chains by Murtogh O'Brien, in Dublin, but set at 
 liberty soon after. 
 
 1115. Donall O'Brien and the Danes of Dublin 
 overthrew the Lagenians, and killed Donchad, lord 
 of lly-Kinsella. Connor O'Connor, lord of Oplia- 
 ly, with his son and many others, were killed. 
 
 1117. Dermod M'Enna, king of Lcinstcr, died at 
 Dublin. 
 
 1118. Torlogh O'Conor marched to Dublin, and 
 rescued Donall O'Melaghlin, the son of the king of 
 Tcnior from the hands of the Danes, and also ob- 
 tained hostages from them. 
 
 1121. Samuel O'llangli, bishop of Dublin, died, 
 and Kellach, Comarba of St. Patrick, was trans- 
 ferred to the bishopriek of Dublin. 
 
 1120. Torlogh O'Conor mustered an army, by 
 which he conquered Lcinstcr and the Danes of Dub- 
 lin, and placed his son Conor over them. 
 
 1127. The Danes of Dublin carried away the 
 shrine of Columbkille, but restored it to its own 
 church a month afterwards. J. O. D. 
 
 fTo be continued.] 
 
 SEAL OF THE DEAN OF CLONMACNOIS. 
 
 A short time ago while a laborer was engaged in 
 digging a grave in the old burial ground of Tass- 
 agh, which lies four miles south of -\rmagh, and 
 which the tradition of the district points out as the 
 site of an ancient friary, he found a curious brazen 
 seal, with a handle attached to it by a hinge — 
 
 The wood cut above is the size of the original, and 
 an exact copy of the face of the seal, which is verv 
 rudely engraved, and is inscribed 'Sigillum Slarrci 
 Linch, Decan. de Clonmaenosii' — The Seal of Mark 
 Linch, Dean of Clonmacnois. I have not been able 
 to discover at what period Linch was dean of that 
 ancient bishopric, but it must have been prior to 
 15G8, as in that year it was united to Jleath, and I 
 believe there has not been either a Catholic or Pro- 
 testant bishop, or dean and chapter of it independ- 
 ant of Meath, since that time. I find that the town 
 land of Tassagh was the property of the regular 
 canons of St. Augustin, of the abbey of Saints Pe- 
 ter and Paul, Armagh, and it is likely that the fri- 
 ary was a branch of that celebrated abbey. There 
 was also an abbey of the same order at Clonmac- 
 nois—and -Vrchdall in his -History of the Monastic 
 Institutions of Ireland,' informs us, that several of 
 the religious of that order came to jVrmagh to spend 
 the evening of their lives. Now it is not unlikely 
 that Dean Linch, having become unable to perform 
 the duties of his office, retired to the secluded fria- 
 r}' of Tassagh, and there spent the remainder of 
 Ills days. ^- 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 183 
 
 SONNET TO THE LEE. 
 
 Sweep on— let iiotliiiig oliock thy ciilmcnrecr, 
 
 To wUcie thy waters shoot in silence from their cell; 
 How sweet upon thy grassy mnrgin hero 
 
 To dreiim awny a life in tliis sequestered tlell! 
 II ere — where tlie embowering willows o'er thee bend, 
 
 And liing their tresses in thy wiirbliiig wave, 
 "Where with tliy waters' gleam the sunbeams blend, 
 
 And seek in thee their golden glow to lave. 
 On, on — let nothing with thy current jar; 
 
 Thy waters' stilly sleep let nothing wake; 
 Thou art too peaceful for the headlong war 
 
 Of cataract — let nought presume to break 
 Thy stillness 'till thou'rt lost amid the boundless sen, 
 As time amid thy waves, shoreless Eternity. 
 
 W. T. D. 
 
 EXTRAORDINARY WILL 
 
 Mr. John Langlcy, an Englishman who settled in 
 Ireland, where he died, left the following extraordina- 
 ry will: , 
 
 I, John Langlcy, born at AVincanton, in Somerset- 
 shire, and settled in Ireland in the year l&5\, now in 
 ray right mind and wits, do make my wilf in my own 
 hand-writing. I do leave all my house, goods, and 
 farm of Black Kettle of 253 acres to my son, common- 
 ly called stubborn Jack, to him and his heirs forever, 
 provided he marries a Protestant, but not Alice Ken- 
 drick, who called me 'Oliver's whelp.' My new baek- 
 skia breeches and my silver tobacco stopper with J. 
 L. on the top, I give to llichard Richards, my com 
 rade, who helped me off at the storming of Clonmell 
 when I was shot through the leg. My said son John 
 shall keep my body above ground six days and six 
 nights after I am dead; and Grace Kendrick shill lay 
 me out, who shall have for so doing five shillings. 
 My body shall be put upon the oak table in the brown 
 room, and fifty Irishmen shall be invited to my wake, 
 and every one shall have two ([uarts of the best acqua 
 vit.-e, and each one skicn, dish, and knife before him; 
 and when the liquor is out, nail up the coffin and com- 
 mit me to the earth whence I came. This is my will, 
 witness my hand this 3d of March, 1674. 
 
 John Lanolet. 
 
 Some of Langley's friends before his death, asked 
 him why he would be at such expense treating the 
 Irishmen whom he ha^edl He replied, that if they 
 got drunk at his wake, they wonld probably get to 
 fighting and kill one another, which would do some- 
 thing towards lessening the breed. 
 
 Wnat a lesson should this teach Irishmen! Their 
 very enemies know that nothing would divide or de- 
 stroy them sooner than intemperance. 
 
 EPISODE IN THE PENINSULAR WAR. 
 
 It was in the month of January, 1809. Spain, 
 ■which was invaded by the French, and defended by 
 the English, had become the scene of a struggle that 
 ■was growing more deadly in its character every suc- 
 ceeding day. After having beaten the Spaniards 
 on all points, Marshal Soult had just attacked Sii' 
 John Moore, and forced him to retire upon Corun- 
 na. Several detachments commanded by the Eng- 
 lish general had been separated from each other 
 during the precipitate retreat, and the baggage 
 guards, cut off by the incessant attacks of the French, 
 detached in small parties along the highroads, ■>vere 
 endeavoring to rejoin the main body of the army. 
 
 At the period we refer to, one of these parties, 
 consisting of four or five ■wagons and a number of 
 ■n'ounded, was winding its way along its toilsome 
 and unknown road. It was under the command of 
 an Iri.sh sergeant named Patrick Maguii'e. 
 
 It ■was beginning to grow dark, and the heavens, 
 which were covered with dull, hea^vy clouds, an- 
 nounced the approach of a stoi-m. The country 
 through which it was advancing was bleak and des- 
 olate, without a single village or the slightest sign 
 of cultivation to enliven the sombre scene around. 
 The only objects -ivhieh showed that human beings 
 had ever inhabited the dreai-y waste, were here and 
 there a deserted house, -nhose doors and shutters 
 
 had been burnt for the fire of some bivouac, a few 
 horses which had sunk down dead from fatigue, a 
 few corpses, and the various other traces which an 
 army in the field leaves in its passage. 
 
 After carefully examining these indications, Ma- 
 guire was convinced that the troops who had pre- 
 ceded him on the road formed part of the French 
 army; this caused him to fear that it would only be 
 with the utmost difliculty that he should succeed in 
 rejoining Sir John Moore. His companions, most 
 of whom were wounded, could hardly drag them- 
 selves along, and the state of discouragement into 
 ■which they had fallen ■ivas aggravated still more by 
 their impatience. 
 
 It ■was in this state of mind that they reached an 
 open space, ■where the remains of extinguished fires, 
 and some baggage which had been abandoned, 
 proved that troops had recently bivouacked there. 
 
 The narrow piece of table-land, on ■which the 
 French had been encamped, ■svas bordered on one 
 side by a tolerably deep ravine, at the bottom of 
 which flowed a small stream. The murmuring of 
 the water attracted several of the wounded soldiers, 
 who were parched with thirst, and who expressed a 
 desire to descend the ravine in order to drink. Ma- 
 ETuire halted for the purpose of assisting his^vvound- 
 ed comrades, but, on approaching the edge of the 
 bank, he perceived, in the bed of the stream, a dead 
 mule still harnessed to a cart, from under the can- 
 vas of which he thought he heard a human voice. 
 He slided down to the bottom of the ravine, and, 
 pushing aside the hoops which supjiorted the cov- 
 ering of the cart, perceived a woman, who begged 
 for assistance in Spanish. 
 
 The sergeant understood the language slightly, 
 and inquired of her how she came there. The un- 
 happy creature informed him that she had fallen 
 asleep from sheer fatigue, and trusted to the instinct 
 of her mnle, ■who in all probability, having gone too 
 near the edge of the precipice to graze, had fallen 
 down the ravine and dragged the eart ivith him. 
 She had awoke at the instant of the fall, ■\vhich she 
 unable to prevent, and had remained in her peril- 
 ous position for some time, completely unconscious 
 from the effects of the injuries she had received. 
 On recovering her senses, all her efforts to disengage 
 herself had been in vain, and it ■was entirely owing 
 to the sergeant that she had been rescued. 
 
 "ftniile listening to this explanation, Maguire, as- 
 sisted by his comrades, had succeeded in raising the 
 woman, whose limbs had become completely numbed 
 with pain ; and, in drawing her out from the shat- 
 tered fragments of the cart, by the last remaining 
 rays of daylight, he recognised her by her costume 
 for a vivandierii of the French armj'. 
 
 At this discovery, the good feeling of Maguire's 
 comrades was suddenly changed to a sentiment of 
 rage, and exclamations of a menacing kind were 
 heard on all sides. 
 
 Having been summoned to defend Spain against 
 the French, the soldiers of Sir John Moore were ac- 
 customed to look upon every native of that country 
 ■who joined the invaders as a traitor. They were 
 especially incensed against those women, who, sac- 
 rificing their patriotism to their personal aflection, 
 had united their lot to that of the French, and had 
 resolved to follow Marshal Soult's army, and share 
 with it all the privations and chances of war. This 
 was exactly the ease of the Yivandiere Dolores, who 
 had married a grenadier of the fir.st division. 
 
 The small band of fugitives expressed, in very en- 
 ergetic terras, their regret at having extricated a 
 vivandiere of the enemy's troops from her danger- 
 ous position, and some of them ■vvere on the point 
 of proceeding, from mere invective, to personal vio- 
 lence, when Sergeant Maguire interposed his au- 
 thority. 
 
 ' Come, come, ■we have had talkin' enough,' he 
 said, in a resolute voice, placing himself before Do- 
 lores. ' Yc'rc not come to make war on women arc 
 
 yez ? Don't yez think this poor crathuris punished 
 enough by the choice she has made ? Git along wid 
 yez, thin, and let every one be continted with look- 
 ing afthur himself alone, if lie wants to git out o' 
 this safe and sound.' 
 
 This piece of advice was followed by the command 
 for the wagons to set out once again on the journey, 
 and those who ■were most incensed against Dolores 
 left her to obey the order. 
 
 Maguire waited until they had set off at the head 
 of the party, and then, ■when there was no one with 
 him, save some women and some soldiers of his own 
 company, he turned towards the vivandiere, who 
 had seated herself, in a ■weak and suffering state, 
 near her broken cart. 
 
 'What will become o' ye at the bottom of this 
 hole ?' he asked, in a voice whose rough tones were 
 tempered ■with l)ity. 
 
 ' Heaven alone knows !' answered Dolores. 
 
 ' Do you feel yer'self strong enough to walk r' he 
 continued. 
 
 ' I think I do,' answered Dolores; 'but where 
 can I go alone, and at this hour ? The roads are 
 thronged with your troops, and I have just seen 
 what I have to expect at their hands.' 
 
 The sergeant seemed to hesitate for a moment ; 
 then, taking a sudden resolution, he replied : — 
 
 ' Come, get up, and folly us , as long as I carry a 
 musket on my shouldher, sorra a hair o' yer head 
 'ill be touched.' 
 
 Dolores thanked the sergeant with heartfelt grati- 
 tude, and exerting all the little strength she had 
 remaining, followed, in the sxtreme rear of the wag- 
 ons. 
 
 At fir,st she did not appear to know in ■what direc- 
 tion the party was proceedhig ; but at the expira- 
 tion of a short time, she approached Maguire, and 
 in a low voice, filled with surprise, said to him : — 
 
 ' Sergeant, do you kno\v where you are going i' 
 
 ' Of coorse I do,' replied the soldiers, ' we are 
 goin' to the English encampment.' 
 
 ' The English encampment !' repeated the ■vivan- 
 diere, looking at him with astonishment. 
 
 ' And I hope,' continued the sergeant, 'that we'll 
 be able to come up to it before the battle comes off.' 
 
 ' What !' exclaimed Dolores, seizing him by the 
 arm, ' do you not know that the battle has already 
 been fought, and — lost on the si.xteenth i' 
 
 ' By Sir John Jloore '■' said the sergeant. 
 
 'Yes ;' replied Dolores, ' by Sir John Moore, who 
 was killed. His troops have now reached the coast 
 with the view of shortly embarking.' 
 
 Maguire stood suddenly still. 
 
 ' On your life, woman, I charge ye to say whether 
 ye're desavin' me !' 
 
 ' On my life and on my soul, I am telling you the 
 truth,' continued Dolores, with such an accent of 
 sincerity that doubt was impossible. ' Several de- 
 tachments, which, like yourselves, ■were marching 
 as they imagined to rejoin the English army, have 
 fallen into the hands of the French posts; if you pro- 
 ceed in your present line of march, in a few hours 
 you will all be prisoners.' 
 
 Dolores added several particulars, so minute and 
 precise, concerning the plan of the action, and the 
 various localities occupied by Marshal Soult's troops, 
 that Maguire saw clearly the whole danger of 
 his position. Luckily his conversation with the 
 vivandiere had been carried on in Spanish, so that 
 his comrades had not understood it. Knowing 
 that the intelligence of such a reverse would give 
 the finishing blow to their state of discouragement, 
 he charged Dolores not to let them suspect anything, 
 and then ordered a trooper to goUop on to the first 
 wagon and order the driver to turn sharply to the 
 right in order to reacli the sea by the shortest pos- 
 sible route. 
 
 Although this new line of march seemed to take 
 them farther away from the main body of the Eng- 
 lish army, yet, as it brought the fugitives nearer to 
 
IRISH MISCEI.LANY. 
 
 T]IE liACillACE liUAUl) IX TUK STURM. 
 
 t'oninna, where they might expect everything of The party was traversing a very wild country, in- 
 which they stood in need, ns well as a safe place ot tersected with rocky eminences, where, as was the 
 refiige, most of the party obeyed the order without case in nearly all Spain, no regular road had ever 
 rais'.ng any very great objection. The vivandil're been marked out, and the only way-marks to guide 
 alone stood still. Besides the fact of this new line the traveller were the ruts and the tracks left by the 
 of march placing a still greater distance between feet of cattle. The sun had completely disappeared. 
 her and the French camp, her strength was com- The darkness, increased still more by the sombre 
 pletcly exhausted, so that, after saying that she clouds that covered the sky, was so dense that it 
 <■■ d go no further, she sat down on the road-side was scarcely possible to distinguish the outlinos of 
 in a fainting state. JIaguirc looked embarasscd. the cumbersome wagons. In an hour's time, how- 
 
 ' Confound it !' said he, making the butt-end of ever, the storm, which had long been threatening, 
 1 is musket ring upon the ground, ' we might as well , broke forth in all its force. The rolling of the 
 1 ave left you in the lurch then. What will you do thunder, which was at first relieved by solemn 
 when we're gone ;' pauses, soon became incessant ; torrents of rain, 
 
 ' 1 do not know," replied Dolores, whose thoughts through which the the forked lightnings flashed, 
 began to wander, and who coidd hardly speak. IfcU like one largo water-spout, inundating the 
 
 'Hut if vou remain here,' continued JIaguire, heights, submerging the low ground, and changins; 
 
 n » I o » so o > Oft 
 
 with a rough but kindly voice, ' you will die like a ithe dry, powdery soil into one large ocean of mud. 
 wounded wolf.' 'I'he horses, frightened by the lightning and the un- 
 
 ' And if I do — after my death. Heaven will avenge Usual noise, reared up underthc drivers' whips ; the 
 me,' she stammered out, falling back on the ground, jaded soldiers in vain sought refuge behind th? wag- 
 
 Maguire raised her up again, and called to the ons ; their position was becoming more critical eve- 
 
 corporal. 
 
 ' Halloa ! AVilliams '.' he exclaimed, ' look sharp ! 
 stop the wagon and make room for one in it !' 
 
 • 'What ! for that daughter of Satan }' said the cor- 
 poral. 
 
 • For a Christian woman at the point of death,' 
 answered the sergeant 
 your heart :' 
 
 • Xever, when I am exposed to danger," replied 
 the corporal. ' In my opiiiion, when you have con- 
 quered an enemy, the best thing you can do is to 
 luUhim.' 
 
 ry moment. At last it stopped at the top of a very 
 rapid descent, and the sergeant looked with inquiet- 
 ude around. 
 
 The veil of rain which covered the heavens was so 
 thick that it did not allow even the lightnings to il- 
 luminate the road ; their brilUaney, dimmed by the 
 Haven't ye anny pity in 'thick, mist, showed only a number of confused 
 forms and uncertain outlines, which inspired every 
 
 one with a vague idea of danger without giving liim 
 an opportunity of knowing in what it really con- 
 sisted. After liaving in vain examined the horizon, 
 and reconnoitred the descent before liim, the ser- 
 
 'No mathur what your opinion is, do what I have geant was about to give the the word of command 
 ordhered you 1" answered Maguire, sternly. jfor the convoy to proceed, when a scream, that 
 
 The corporal obeyed with a very bad grace, and issued from the last wagon, caused him to start with 
 helped the vivandii-re in the wagon. She met with horror. 
 
 anything but a hospitable welcome from the women Dolores had been revived by the rain, and had 
 and the wounded soldiers already there. jraised herself up on the baggage. AVhen the ser- 
 
 ' How long have the baggage- wagons of the King geant turned round, she was leaning forward, with 
 of England been used to transport traitors that aid her head advanced and her arms extended, pointing 
 the Faench:' asked severiil voices. with affright to the descent, at the top of which the 
 
 ' Throw her under the wheels ! Down with the party had stopped, 
 false-hearted quean !' cried several voices. | ' In the name of Heaven !' she cried to Maguire, 
 
 Maguire made no reply, but placed Dolores, who ' do not advance another step, unless you are tired 
 had by this time fainted, in a sort of recess formed of life !' 
 
 by the baggage, whence she could not be thrown by : ' ANTiy, where does this road lade to ?' asked the 
 the jolting of the wagon. jscrgeant. 
 
 'To the Devil's Gulf!' replied Dolores. 
 
 ' Are you quite sure r' asked the sergeant. 
 
 ' Listen !' replied Dolores. 
 
 Maguire waited for one ofthose momentary pauses, 
 in which the fury of the storm was lulled, and then, 
 listening attentively, heard the hoarse noise made 
 by the water collected on the hills dashing down in- 
 to the abyss. He rushed, terror-stricken, to the 
 heads of the horses, whom he compelled to fall back. 
 His comrades, who had heard the rushing of the 
 waters as well as himself, regained precipitately the 
 tablc-lond. 
 
 The storm continued to rage with the same awful 
 A-iolence, and despair was rapidly obtaining posses- 
 sion of the whole party. The sergeant himself, 
 whose commands were no longer respected, did not 
 know what plan to ptnsue. Some of the drivers 
 took out the horses, in order to get on their backs, 
 and fly, at hazard, through the night. At length 
 Dolores stood up in the w'agon, and pointing to an 
 opening in the hills on the right hand, exclaimed : 
 
 ' There lies your road. Follow the side of the hill 
 until you come to the next open space ; you will 
 then see Corunna at your feet, and in two hours you 
 will be in safety.' 
 
 Her words, translated by Maguire, put an end to 
 the general disorder and somewhat revived the 
 drooping courage of the fugitives. The wagon in 
 which Dolores rode took the head of the procession, 
 while she herself directed the march, telling the 
 drivers how to avoid the ravines and turn the rocks. 
 At length the storm abated; thecloucis, swept away 
 by the wind from the sea, disappeared in the dis- 
 tance, and the sky, spangled with stars, was once 
 more visible. 
 
 The party now reached the open space mentioned 
 by Dolores, and a little further on they perceived 
 the town and the roads, with men-of-war bearing 
 the English colors at their mast-heads. 
 
 Ever)' one forgot his sufferings to greet the well- 
 loved flag with a joyous hurrah ! 
 I ' Vt'c have liad a hard time of it, sergeant,' said 
 the corporal, approaching Maguire, ' but we have 
 lescaped at last !' 
 
 'Thanks to that poor woman,' said the Irishman, 
 pointing to the vivandiere , ' ye see, corjioral, that 
 pity is not so bad an adviser afthur all, and that it 
 is often wiser to save than to kill an inimy.' 
 
IRISH IiIISGELLANY. 
 
 185 
 
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 'R O. F,' Worcester, Mass. We are much obliged. We 
 are endeavoring to remedy the defect you refer to. r. M. 
 Haverty, 110 Fulton street, New York, is agent lor 'The 
 Celt,' published in Dublin. 
 
 *Philo,' Dubuque, Iowa. Cadmus was the first Greek 
 prose writer. He lived towards the close of the seventh or 
 beginning of the sixth century B.C., and wrote a history of 
 the foundation of his native City, and the colonization of 
 Ionia, in four books. 
 
 *Star Gazer,' Cambridge, Mass. Ceres was discovered 
 by Rn/.ziou the first day of the proK'nt century, January 1, 
 1801, at riilermo. It was named Ceres by him after the tu- 
 telary goddess of Sicily, and for analogy with the uuincs 
 of the other planets. 
 
 'Celt,' New York. The Danes or Northmen, for above 
 two centuries, occupied a considerable portion of Ireland, 
 particularly the maratime cities, yet it is strange they have 
 left so few traces of their race behind. Beyond Reginala's 
 Tower in Wiiterford, a cut of which appeared in tlie last 
 number of the Miscellany, and a few silver coins, the Irish 
 antiquary cannot point to a single memorial of their exist- 
 ence, save the record of their devastations, so eiTecfually 
 were they obliterated from our native land. In England 
 and Scotland, and even in the Isle of Man, the f-'culptnred 
 cross and Runic inscription, remain to identify their sway. 
 In Ireland, neither one or the other can be found through- 
 out the whole breadth of the land. 
 
 'Patrick O'Neil,' Albany, N. Y. The round tower of 
 Glendalough is one of the highest in Ireland, being 110 feet 
 high. The roof fell in a few years ago. We cannot refer 
 to the exact date. 
 
 We shall attend to othep-correspondents in our next. 
 
 IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 BOSTON, SATURDAY, MAY 1, 1858 
 
 OUR PICTURE GALLERY. 
 
 Ikducements to New Subsckibebs. 
 
 On Saturday, the 3d of July next, we eliall present to 
 each subscriber to the Irish Pictorial Miscellany, a splendid 
 Lithojjraphic Engraving, representing the glorious scene, 
 which occurred shortly before the capture of Limerick, 
 when General Sarsfield, who commanded the Irish horse, 
 having learned that a large supply of heavy seige guns was 
 on the way to the camp of the Prince of Orange, resolved 
 to capture them. Crossing over the country by a difficult 
 and circuitous rout, so as to intercept the convoy, he came 
 up in front of it at Killunumanna, attacked William's 
 troops, defeated them and compelled them to retreat before 
 the Irish horse, leaving their artillery in the hands of Sars- 
 lield. 
 
 Having to rejoin the garrison at Limerick, Sarsfield knew 
 it would be impossible to carry with him the heavy Eng- 
 lish guns through the mountain passes, and determined to 
 destroy them. He ordered them to be charged to their ut- 
 most capacity, and imbedded deeply in the earth, with the 
 whole of the baggage train, which also fell into his hands. 
 A train being laid, the spark was applied and in a few sec- 
 onds the seige artillery of William was shattered into innu- 
 merable fragments This gallant feat astonished the Eng- 
 lish troops, gave new courage to the Irish, and added to 
 the great popularity of the gallant Sarsfield. The explo- 
 sion shook the earth for miles around, and was heard at an 
 immense distance. 
 
 It is at the moment of the explosion of the English ar- 
 -tillcry which our artist has siezed upon for the subject oi 
 his pencil. 
 
 This memorable event will be faithfully and accurately 
 portrayed. It has not hitherto, given inspiration, as far as 
 we can learn to any of our Irish artists, and shall now have 
 amble justice done it. It will make a beautiful picture. 
 We shall present it to our readers on a sheet of line draw- 
 ing paper, separate from the Miscellany, suitable for 
 
 anig. 
 
 It will at once be seen that we cannot do this without a 
 greatoutlay of capital. We expect to be reimbursed by a 
 very large addition to our subscription list, as no person 
 will be entitled to it who has not paid on or before the 3d 
 of July next one years' subscription in advance, dating 
 from our first number. 
 
 Non subscribers will be supplied at Sl,50 for each plate. 
 
 We are resolved that our subscribers shall possess a 'pic- 
 ture gallery' worthy of the events wo propose to commem- 
 orate. This will be the first of a series of mational pic- 
 TUUKs we propose presenting gratis to our regular subscrib- 
 ers the second picture of the series will be ready early in 
 October, the subject of which is not yet decided on. Wc 
 should feel obliged to any of our friends who possess old 
 pictures of remarkable events in Irish history, or portraits 
 of distinguished Irishmen, to forward them to us. They 
 shall be taken good care of, and returned. 
 
 Let our friends see to their subscriptionsin season. Our 
 Picture Gallery will be lit to adorn the walls of any gentle- 
 man's house in the country, and will, we hope, eventually 
 supersede the wretched daubs which are often met with. 
 
 Our arrangements for the first picture are almost com- 
 pleted. It will be absolutely necessary that we should 
 know immediately the number of plates we shall want, 
 i^et our subscribers therefore, send in their subscriptions 
 without delay, and be careful to give us their correct ad- 
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 ordered before the above date. 
 
 Will our triends of the press please notice this new fea- 
 ture in our publication, and wo will take care that their 
 sanctums are adorned with choice copies ot this national 
 picture. 
 
 PAYING FOR BIGOTRY. 
 
 A few years ago the city government of Boston sold the 
 land oh which the old jail in Leverett street stood, to Gen- 
 eral Amee, who, after building a few houses on one part of 
 it, disposed of the remainder to Father McElroy lor the 
 purpose of erecting a Catholic church. As soon as it was 
 known that the land had been purchased by a Catholic 
 priest, some persons resident in the neighborhood, got up a 
 remonstrance to the city government against a Catholic 
 church being built thereon, as it would be a 'nuisance' to 
 the neighborhood. 
 
 Various eflbrts were made by liberal minded members of 
 the city government to remove certain restrictions placed 
 upon the land, but their elTorts proved unavailing. The 
 city government to get rid of the vexed question, purchas- 
 ed back the land Irom Father McElroy, giving him a large 
 advance upon the price originally paid. 
 
 Last week these lands were sold by auction to various 
 parties, and we understand, the city has lost some sixty 
 thousand dollars by the transaction. This is paying pretty 
 well fertile illiberal and unchristian spiritot a small por- 
 tion of the residents of one ward of the city. 
 
 DEAD INFANT. 
 
 Dr. Cornell was called this morning to view the dead 
 body of a male infant at the 5th police station, found dead 
 near the South Boston bridge. The Coroner did not deem 
 an inquest necessary. 
 
 Why not necessary? Has child murder ceased to be a 
 crime in Massachusetts? Has infanticide become so com- 
 mon in the head quarters of Puritanism that it has lost its 
 horrors? Are parents allowed to imbrue their hands in the 
 blood of little innocents, without any enquiry into the 
 cause of death being deemed necessary? ' Such reports as 
 the above are now very common in the daily press, yet 
 they excite no comment. Verily we have fallen upon 
 strange times. 
 
 OUR NEXT NUMBER. 
 
 The next number of the Miscellany will contain an ele- 
 gant and accurate view of the river Shannon, taken from 
 the tower of Limerick Cathedral looking south, and show- 
 ing a portion of the city of Limerick and the Wellesley 
 bridge in the distance; also two views of the Abbey of 
 Inch in the county of Down, all of which will be exe- 
 cuted in the highest style of art. Besides the usual num- 
 ber of the Dublin Penny Journal, the Miscellany will con- 
 tain a most excellent assortment ol articles suited to all 
 tastes, both original and selected. The paper will be issu- 
 ed on Saturday, May 1st, and agents and others would do 
 well to send in their orders forthwith. 
 
 WESTWARD HO ! 
 
 Large numbers of our fellow countrymen are going West 
 to make homes in that vast and fertile region. We are con- 
 tinually bearing of serious impositions practised upon emi- 
 grants, by means of false and fictitious tickets sold to them 
 by emigrant runners, prowl about the various railroad and 
 steamboat offices. Too much caution cannot be used to 
 guard against these impositions. None but respectable and 
 responsible parties should bo dealt with. 
 
 It will be seen on reference to the advertisement of Mr. 
 Edward Ryan, of 2AIbany street, Boston, that he is still 
 engaged in the passenger business, and forwards travellers 
 to all parts of the far West. Mr. Ryan was formerly agent 
 of the Emigrant Society of this city, and has been engaged 
 now for some years as agent of a highly respectable com- 
 pany. His tickets may be depended upon. We would ad- 
 vise all our iS'cw England friends going West to engage 
 their passage with Mr. Eyan, who will forward them by the 
 cheapest and most expeditious route. See his advertise- 
 ment. 
 
 PUBLICATIONS RECEIVED. 
 
 The Life of St Vincent De Paul, by Henry Bedford, A.M. 
 New York : D. & J. Sadlier & Co. ; Boston : William llic- 
 key, 128 Federal street. 
 
 We have received from Messrs. Powers & Wellcr, the 
 celebrated lithographic artists and printers, of 265 Wash- 
 ington street, an admirably executed likeness of the Kight 
 Kev. Dr. Fitzpatrick, Bishop of Boston. Every Catholic 
 in the diocese ought to have one of these portraits framed 
 and hung up in his house. 
 
 SUBSCRIPTIONS FOR THE DONEGAL 
 SUFFERERS. 
 
 M. J. Walsh & Co., Proprietors of Miscellany, S5.00 
 M. F. & P. C, New Haven, Conn., 2.00 
 
 Will our friends send in their subscriptions without dcla y 
 as it is our desire to remit the amount received, at the ear- 
 liest possible moment. 
 
186 
 
 IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 Wiilliii lor the Ml»cell«uy. 
 FAREWELL TO THE TIMES. 
 
 D V M O M O >• I A . 
 
 Farewell to the liuioa when I wandered 
 
 And alrajed by the niuoulight uluue, 
 On those times, oht how o!t I have iioudercd — 
 
 They were bright, but are Aided uud gone. 
 
 Alan! that with ni;e should conio Korrow; 
 
 To-uiKht we may He down to deep. 
 And !ioon we t<hall RBze on the morrow 
 
 J'erchancc but to cigh and to weep. 
 
 My laud! though In sorrow thou'rt shrouded, 
 And the 'stranger' still walks on tliy plaius; 
 
 Though darkest oppression has clouded 
 The ve.-tage of thee that remains; 
 
 yeto*en in thy sorrow tliou'rt dearer 
 To me, than the whole world beside,— 
 
 irthy skies from oppression wereclenrer 
 I soon would be Ibund by thy side. 
 
 Yes I here in the land o( the 'stranger,' 
 Though thy green hills I now cannot see, 
 
 I would brnrc all the toil and the danger 
 Of the light which would libenitc theet 
 
 Written for the Jlisccllany. 
 MOLLY BAWN ASTHORE. 
 
 II Y II A r. n Y M C K K O N . 
 
 Air— 'Dobhins' Flowery Vale.' 
 
 Down by yon bonny mountain side, 
 
 'Mid the limpid streamlets clear, 
 ■Where the lieathcr bell in virgin pride 
 
 So charming docs appear; 
 Bright I'hoobus sinking in the west 
 
 Shed radiant bliss nil o'er; 
 TVhcrc flrsit I clasped to this fond breast 
 
 lly Molly liawn asthorc. 
 Her golden tresses sweetly shone 
 
 All o'er each rosy check, 
 Her smile would melt a heart of stone, 
 
 She looked so mild and meek; 
 The gentle voice of my only choice 
 
 So thrilled my heart all o'er — 
 Soft raptures stole around my soul 
 
 For Molly Bawn asthorc. 
 
 Her graceful form and stately mien 
 
 Unequalled is I'm sure. 
 She's nobler than the Sa.Non queen 
 
 And Hfty times more pure ; 
 Oh mother, immaculate and mild — 
 
 Whose holy name she bore. 
 Still shield from pain thy spotless child— 
 
 My Molly Bawn asthore. 
 
 A wanderer in this distant clime 
 
 Far o'er the briny tide, 
 I'm waiting for the promised time 
 
 To claim my queenly bride; 
 When my poor, bleeding native land 
 
 The green flag's waving o'er, 
 I'll go to win the stainless hand, 
 
 Of Molly Bawn asthorc. 
 
 Written for the Irish Miscellany. 
 INK DROPS: 
 
 TBOM TllE PEN" OF THi; 'ta F.KR COVF..' 
 
 JTo. 2. — My Author.s. 
 
 An illness of two weeks duration, Mr. Editor, — 
 having been like Falstaff, 'shaked of a burning 
 quotidianj tertian that 'ivas most lamentable to be- 
 hold,' contracted I have no doubt, either from for- 
 getfulness in taking, or el.se in putting on my 'night- 
 cap,' — has rendered me unable to continue my arti- 
 cles until this present time; but after this e.xplana- 
 nation, I know that you in the benignity of your 
 disposition will forgive ine for having disappointed 
 you and your twenty thousand readers. I have 
 now come round again, (not by the way, like Pad- 
 dy's mother, who came round in a hearse,) and in 
 future you shall have these 'weakly — (I pray you 
 forgive the pun, for 'twas entirely unpremeditated) 
 —productions, regular. 
 
 I promised you an introduction to my authors. 
 You shall have it. First on my list, as he stands 
 first in my affections, is he who 'was not for an age 
 but for iill time," the most illustrious of poachers! 
 
 the 'gwcct swan of Avon' — immortal Shakespeare. 
 AVliy should I, with my p\iny jiowers, attempt to 
 descant on the works of glorious AVill? Giants in 
 intellectual capacity have done that — Coleridge, 
 IXu/lett, Stevens, Knight, Malonc, Hudson and 
 ^■erplanck; in their hands 1 leave him, with the 
 iirm belief that Shakespeare has conferred honors 
 innumerable on liis commentators, while his fame 
 even withotit their assistance, never cotild have 
 sutiercd detraction. 
 
 In loving companionship to the great master, are 
 chivalrous Sir Pliilip Sidney, and g.illant but un- 
 fortunate Sir AValter Kaleigh; Middleton, from 
 whose play of the 'AViteh' Shakespeare is said to 
 have derived the idea of his incantation scenes in 
 Macbeth; AVcbster, made famous by his 'Duchess 
 of Malti'; starving Otway; Edmund Spenser, like 
 his own Lady Una — 
 
 'Making with his rndient face, 
 A sunshine in a shady place;' 
 
 those Siamese twins of dramatic literature, Beau- 
 mont and Fletcher; and that great boon companion 
 and jovial fellow, the brick layer's son 'rare Ben 
 Jonson'. There's a gala.xy of brains for you, Mr. 
 Editor, and '\vhat sauce they (the brains) would 
 make with a boiled ealve's head! Think of AVill 
 and Ben in their wit encounters at 'The Mermaid' — 
 their 'flashes of merriment that were wont to set the 
 table in a roar' ! The wit of Shakespeare ivas of a 
 finer quality tlian Jonson's, though they -were well 
 matched — perhaps no other two better. In their 
 jousts, Ben has been described as a Spanish galleon, 
 ponderous and efTective, and much more erudite, - 
 while AVill was like an English cruiser of much les 
 calibre, but by his fleetness and tact, able on every 
 occasion to 'take the wind out of the sails' of the 
 heavier armament. Jonson's wit was the heavy 
 granite, Shakespeare's the delicately veined marble. 
 
 That's a good anecdote which is told of a noble- 
 man who had more nobles than brains, who gave 
 Ben an invitation to dinner. You don't remember 
 it? "Well, you shall be enlightened. It appears 
 that the nobleman aforesaid, (to borrow a legal 
 phrase) hearing by some chance of Ben's wonder- 
 ful powers, did himself the honor to invite the poet 
 to dme with him. At the appointed time, a rough, 
 uncouth looking 'Individ' presented himself to the 
 lordling with tl'.e announcement that he was Jon- 
 son. '\\'hat,' said the noble, 'you Ben Jonson? 
 why you look as if you coiildn't say boo to a 
 goose.' 'Boo,' said Ben with imperturbable gravi- 
 ty; whereupon he was immediately collared and — 
 placed in the scat of honor at the dinner table. 
 
 Before I take my leave of him, just cast your 
 eyes up to those two modest looking volumes in the 
 comer of the upper shelf. They are the works of 
 that jollicst of curates and s^veetest of amatory po- 
 ets, thellev. Kobert Ilerrick, and whose 'Corrinna 
 going a-maying' I make it a point to read even- 
 May day morning. He had an opportunity to 
 judge of the effect of his friend Ben's wit, and I 
 will give you his ideas in his own words — 
 
 Ah Ben! 
 
 Sav how or when 
 
 •Shall we the guests 
 
 Meet at thofe lyric feasts, 
 
 Made at the !$un. 
 
 The Dog, the Triple Tun? 
 
 Where we such clusters had 
 
 As made us nobly wild not mad. 
 
 And vet each verse of thine 
 
 Outdid the meat, outdid the frolic wine. 
 
 My Ben! 
 Or conifc ngen 
 Or send to us 
 Thy v.iis great overjilus, 
 
 But teach us yet 
 Wisely to husband it 
 I.cst we that talent spend ; 
 And havin;; once brought to an end 
 That precious stock : the store 
 Of such a wit: the world should have no more. 
 
 And now for the present, 'goodnight toMarmion' — 
 
 I mean Ben Jonson. 
 
 There is an old black letter copy of Chaucer 
 
 which I keep on accovmt of its .-intiquity and out of 
 
 respect and veneration for the father of English po- 
 
 etry, although the contents are so much high 
 Dutch to me. Then there is Snin Butler, the au- 
 thor of Iludibras, and who very wisely tells us 
 tliat 'there is a kind of pliysiognomy in the titles of 
 books no less than in the faces of men, by wliich a 
 skilful observer will us well know wliat to e.\pect 
 from the one as the other." 
 
 There again are the old novelests, the delights of 
 my childhood, and I believe too, of yours, Mr. Ed- 
 itor, Sterne, Fielding and Smollet. We — at least I 
 have — laughed and wept alternately over Tristam 
 Shandy, the Sentimental Journey, I'crcgrine Pickle, 
 Joseph Andrews, and Koderiek Kandom. It's a 
 great pity that Dr. Tobias Smollet did not live in a 
 republic: he would have made an excellent repub- 
 lican, judging from the sentiments contained in his 
 splendid ode commencing — 
 
 'Thy spirit Independence, let me share.' 
 
 You kno'w that Burns (who by the way I do not 
 look upon as being the great man every Sa>vney 
 from the 'land o' cakes' would have me believe) lias 
 almost become immortalised by the hackneyed sen- 
 timent — 
 
 'The rank is but the guinea's stamp. 
 The man's thegowd for a" that;' 
 
 Now Sterne, who flourished many years before 
 the ploughman poet was ever dreampt of, in the 
 dedication of one of his books of Tristam Shandy, 
 'To a Great JIan,' makes use of the following ex- 
 pression: — 'Honors, like impressions upon coin, 
 may give an ideal and local value to a bit of base 
 metal; but gold and silver will pass all the world 
 over, without any other recommendation than their 
 own weight.' 
 
 Wycherly also, in his play of the 'Plaindealcr' 
 has a similar sentiment. Both of those writers 
 were anterior to the time of the Scot, and why then ■ 
 should Bobby derive all the credit for the thought? 
 I believe in credit where credit is due, but d — , no 
 hang me, if I believe in bolstering up one man at 
 the expense of another. 
 
 For the present, most indulgent of Editors, I 
 think I have encroached enough on your columns. 
 I shall continue the subject in my ne.xt, if agreea- 
 ble to you, and bidding you adieu, will at once 
 proceed to 
 
 'Smile as I was wont to smile,' 
 and sincerely wish that you -(vere present to join 
 me. 
 
 CORRESPONDENCE. 
 
 Duplin, JlARcn 2R, 18,^)R. 
 
 A secret enquiry is going on before the authori- 
 ties at the Castle, into the conduct of the police on 
 the occasion of the riot of the college students on 
 the day of the Lord Lieutenant's entrj- into 
 the city. Triiuty College, Dublin, is a hot-bed of 
 bigotry and intolerencc; it is little short of treason 
 and felony for a lot of vulgar, plebeian police, to 
 crack the craniums of the aristocratic children of 
 this old beldame. I do not hesitate saying that if 
 the citizens of Dublin had been guilty of the vio- 
 lence of the students, the military would have dealt 
 with them instead of the police, and the streets haTO 
 flowed with the blood of our people. 
 
 There is, inniy opinion, too much mildness and 
 tolerance shown to this liot-bed of big»try. Occa- 
 sionally it has produced a truly great man — a sin- 
 cere and dutiful son of Ireland. But this, I sub- 
 mit, has been owing more to their own genial na- 
 tures, than to the teaeliings of old Trinity. Thom- 
 as Davis received his first impressions of his native 
 land and its Catholic people within the walls of this 
 institution, and we know that they were inimical 
 to the best interests of Ireland. It was his inter- 
 course with Dillon and Duffy, and other kindred 
 spirits, which obliterated from his noble mind the 
 lessons of intolerencc there inculcated. We are 
 too much in the habit of coquetting with the old 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 187 
 
 haridan. But little good has ever come out of her, 
 nud the sooner she is razed to the ground, the bet- 
 ter for Ireland. She is a perpetual memorial of 
 tyranny and exclusivcness. She lives upon the cou- 
 iiscated estates of Catholics, and confers her honor 
 only upon Protestants. It is rain to hope better 
 things of her than the past, and the sooner the 
 ■whole thing is destroyed, the better for our unfor- 
 tunate country. 
 
 It is said that Mr. Napier, the new Secretary for 
 Ireland, has an excellent tenant right bill prepared, 
 ■which ■will be submitted to Parliament after the 
 Easter recess, I haveno great hopes of much good 
 coming from the Derby, or indeed any other Eng- 
 lish administration. Yet as Ireland has always 
 been the chief difHculty of a tory government, I 
 ■would not be sui'prised if this difficulty was put out 
 of the way by the enactment of a good tenant right 
 law — one that will give to the tenant the same in- 
 terest in his improvements which the landlord has 
 in his estate. Let this be the case or not, I hope 
 never to see a whig government in power again. 
 
 You may, probably, think it strange that I should 
 prefer a tory government to that of the wliigsl The 
 fact is the whigs have been the greatest curse to Ire- 
 land. The Catholics are seven-eighths of the popula- 
 tion, and, at the passage of the emancipation act, were 
 united to a man. They wrung from the powerful ad- 
 ministration of Peel and Wellington a repeal of the 
 last remnant of the penal laws, and compelled the 
 hero of Waterloo to acknowledge that he conceded to 
 fear that which he had denied to justice. After eman- 
 cipation came the reform bill, and with that the whigs. 
 By giving place to the needy and ambitious Catholic 
 representatives, the whigs have succeeded in dividing 
 us, and, as of yore, govern us not by their own 
 strength, bat by our own dissentions. Better a thous- 
 and times would it have been for Ireland that the 
 emancipatioa act had never been repealed. Then we 
 should not have been betrayed and sold by the Sad- 
 lier's, the Keogh's and the Fitzgerald's. Then Ire- 
 land would not have looked on the heart rending sight 
 of a Catholic attorney general prosecuting a minister 
 of his own faith, at the bidding of a bigoted whig gov- 
 ernment. 
 
 There can l)e little doubt that we are fjst approach- 
 ing an important era in the world's history. The 
 present appearance of the political horizon portends a 
 storm of a serious character — one that will shake Eu- 
 rope to its centre. I often told yon by letter that the 
 alliance between France and England could not be of 
 long endurance. A few months will convince you of 
 the correctness of my prophecies. The fact is, Napo- 
 leon has been using England for his or n purposes, 
 and as soon as they are carried out, he will kick Eng- 
 land over as speedily as he did the French republic. 
 You are aware — the world is awarc^that for years 
 Napoleon was an exile in London, waiting, like Mi- 
 cawber, for something to turn up. During this time 
 his circumstances were miserable, and, like many a 
 good fellow, often had to whistle for a dinner. The 
 threatened outbreak of the Chartists in 1848, called 
 forth all the vigor and power of the English metropo- 
 lis, and Napoleon volunteered his services as a special 
 constable for the preservation of peace. England 
 chained the great Emperor of France to the rock of St. 
 Helena, and mocked and insulted him. The sight of 
 the nephew of that great man walking in procession 
 with the coal heavers of London, carrying in his hand 
 a constable's baton was, to all appearance, an evidence 
 of the utter destruction of the Bonaparte dynasty. 
 Y'et, even then, he was carnj'ing out the great scheme 
 which occupied his mind from the earliest dawn of 
 reason, and using England, which destroyed the power 
 of his uncle, as an instrument in restoring that power 
 to the nephew. It has been with him a passion to 
 avenge the cause of the emperor. Has he not, to a 
 great extent done sol Did he not compel the British 
 Queen to receive him as her equal upon her own soil, 
 and lowly descending upon her knee, invest this 'up 
 
 him with the badge of knighthood. Believe me, hav- 
 ing humbled England so far, he will yet humiliate her 
 more, and for every sigh breathed in captivity at St. 
 Helena, he will yet e.xaet a stream of Saxon Ijlood. 
 
 There is little else at present to write about unless I 
 gave you an account of events which can have little 
 interest to the general reader. The assizes are being 
 held in the various counties, and ihe chief feature no- 
 tieable in the connection is the great decrease of crime. 
 If the hateful landlord system was improved or abol- 
 ished, the crimes of blood which now stain our annals 
 would be obliterated; we should then present the 
 purest record in Europe. 
 
 The Atlantis, the organ of the Irish Catholic Uni- 
 versity of Ireland, is out. It bids fair to become a 
 most important publication, yet I grieve to see that it 
 is published in England. This ought not to be. 
 
 AVONMOBE, 
 
 [From Tales of the Olden Time.] 
 CASTLE ROCHE. 
 
 A LEGEND OF LOUTH. 
 
 [Concluded.] 
 In becoming the husband of Christina, Mark 
 Roche believed that he had reached the acme of all 
 human happiness. At no time had he dared to hope 
 for such a consummation of his wishes— fully sen- 
 sible of lowliness of his own station, when compared 
 with that of the lady, the one pervading sentiment 
 of his heart might have been comprised in Helena's 
 beautiful expression of her hopeless passion : 
 
 'It were all one that I should love 
 
 Some bricht particular star, and think to wed it. 
 
 He is so above me.' 
 
 On finding that come to pass, which he had never 
 believed at all possible — his delight was in propor- 
 tion to his foijner despair, and he deemed that no 
 future event, of what nature soever, could or would 
 undermine his felicity — it was henceforward to be 
 permanent and unfading. But when Mark calcu- 
 lated thus, he knew not that he had taken a mur- 
 deress to his bosom ; he never dreamed that what 
 appeared so passing lovely and unsullied, was in 
 reality a foul deception — a ' whitened sepulchre ' 
 — whose secret soul was stained by crime, though 
 the outward hue of the casket was brilliant to the 
 eye. He knew not, that in the dead of night, when 
 he himself was sunk in the peaceful sleep of an un- 
 ruffled conscience, the beloved being who reclined 
 by his side was haunted by superstitions fears — 
 and that her dark deeds, rising before her horror- 
 stricken mind, seemed to glide around in the most 
 hideous forms. A cold dew bursting through all 
 her pores, she would gaze, with eyes starting from 
 their sockets, on the bleeding figure of the wretched 
 O'Brien, as he seemed to stalk through the thick 
 darkness of night, ever and anon approaching, to 
 point at the guilty author of his premature death, 
 and then ' grinning horribly a ghastly smile,' he 
 would seem to mock her anguish and remorse. 
 
 Tortured thus by imaginary fears, and a harrow- 
 ing consciousness of her own guilt, the unfortunate 
 Christina was in reality, a prey to the most acute 
 misery — aye ! even when her head lay on the bosom 
 of him who had now become dearer to her than her 
 own soul. She beheld in Mark Iloehe' a shining 
 example of many noble virtues — his heart was the 
 abode of all the tender aficction — his feelings warm 
 and ardent — yet so strong were his principles of 
 right and wrong, that nothing could induce him to 
 swerve for a single moment from the narrow path 
 of rectitude. His thoughts, words and actions were 
 all strikingly illustrative of his upright and candid 
 disposition. These very virtues, though they com- 
 manded Christina's admiration, and enhanced her 
 love, yet they served, on the other hand, to embitter 
 her cup of happiness— forming as they did, a woful 
 contrast to her own gloomy and unsettled character 
 — and, then came, ' th' unkindcst cut of all,' — for 
 
 did not this very elevation of mind, so amiable in 
 starl/ 'adventurer,' 'assassin,' as the English press call JIark Hoehe, assure the wretched wife, with dam- when that heart should cease to beat 
 
 ning certainty, that her virtuous husband only love d 
 her while her crimes were undiscovered — much as 
 he was fascintited by her beauty, it was a moral 
 fact, that should he ever by any chance discover her 
 former course of life, she would from that moment 
 lose all his esteem — becoming consequently an ob- 
 jeef of contempt. But, oh ! horrible ! "What was 
 even that to the dark, inhuman murder of the poor, 
 confiding architect ? 
 
 She well know that even the remotest hint of such 
 a hideous blot on her soul would deprive her forever 
 of Mark's affection — aflTcction ! who would talk of 
 affection then ! — would she not become a fearful and 
 a loathsome thing in his sight ?— aye ! his deep, deep 
 love would bo turned into hatred, and he would fly 
 to the utmost boundaries of earth rather than look 
 upon her face again. 
 
 Notwithstanding all this secret anguish, Christi- 
 na's love for her husband daily increased — the very 
 conviction that her place in his heart might be any 
 minute lost irrecoverably, contributed to render his 
 afi'ection the more precious to her, so that it was 
 with a nervous and trembling delight she received 
 his slightest mark of attention I Though she at first 
 loved him for his personal resemblance to Christian, 
 yet she soon learned to love him for himself alone ; 
 the two individuals became, as it were, merged into 
 one, and that early passion which had < grown with 
 her growth, and strengthened with her strength,* 
 was now transferred to Mark Roche. In the latter 
 she beheld many noble traits of character which 
 raised him far above the proud king of Denmark, 
 and Christina soon forgot the past in the present. 
 
 It is true she had heard it rumored that Christian 
 had given his hand to the royal lady chosen for him 
 by his ministers — but she could now hear the news 
 with comparative indifference — and she rejoiced to 
 hear that the new queen of Denmark was a pattern of 
 virtue and of connubial tenderness. 
 
 Years rolled on, and the love of Mark Eoche for his 
 beautiful wife was indissolubly cemented by a numer- 
 ous family of children — but the dark doom of a fatal 
 curse hung over them, and they all died in early in- 
 fancy, not one having outlived the age of childhood. 
 As each sweet infant appeared the heart of the mother 
 expanded with renewed affection and hope that one at 
 least might be spared to her, but when she saw the 
 sweet flowers bloom but to fade — and each and all 
 tailing victims to the envenomed blight — her proud 
 spirit, saddened and subdued by aSiiction, she con- 
 fessed that her punishment was just. She had (even 
 in the spring of her youth) incurred His vengeance, 
 who hath promised from the beginning to 'visit the 
 sins of the parents on their children, even to the third 
 and fourth generation.' 
 
 Christina died a childless mother! She had, how- 
 ever, the consolation of possessing to the end the af- 
 fections of her husband; as he never discovered her 
 guilt, he beheld only in her to the very last, that be- 
 loved one whose matchless beauty had so captivated 
 his young heart, who had given up many advantages 
 for his sake — and who had constituted the happiness 
 of his maturer years. She died a sincere penitent, for 
 her soul had been long chastened and refined in the 
 fiery furnace of tribulation. 
 
 Christina, of course, bequeathed all her wealth to 
 her husband, so that he was now master of a hand- 
 some fortune. A few years dragged heavily along in 
 utter loneliness, and then Mark Roche beenmc again a 
 husband. The measure that was given unto him, ho 
 gave to others, as he, in his turn, descended from his 
 station to marry an orphan girl, whoso innocence and 
 virtue he gloried in preserving thus from the foul 
 snares of the seducer. He loved his fair young wife — 
 for she was kind and gentle, and beloved by all — but 
 his love for her was not like that wherewith he had 
 regarded Christina. He had given to the lost one the 
 worship of his heart, and death only served to render 
 that aficction pure and unearthly — her memory lived 
 enshrined in his heart of hearts, only to bo torn thence 
 
iss 
 
 lltlSlI .MISCELLANY. 
 
 The i-|iilclren of liia sccoml marriiiRU fjrow up nnilBtliat of Queen Anne. Swift, who hencnth his keenest 
 rto»^i^hL•.l, fur tlicv wure the ullspring of unsullictllsntire convtved the most forcible truilis, Bpokc truly 
 purity, iin'a to them dcicoiulea Castle Roche, iiml ihilwhen liu toM of the lowly lot of ' the audcut gcntrylof 
 
 Ijiiiiiiui; liinils, whidi liail been purchased by llicirg Ireland.' It is only when Bucli men us Sloorc aml| 
 .• ,| Bllo>;iiii, anil IJiirry appear amidst that equality of ad- 
 
 In piwess of lime the family of the Roches becanuHversiiy to which injustice levelled the class, that we| 
 extinct— they all died out, and passed away likeBrccognise them by the possession of at least one ' pa-| 
 muuv a nobler house, and there exists no other rccordatent ' of their nobility, of which no confiscation could 
 of their history, limn the walls of thcir^old castle. TheBclepriTe them— intellcctuiU superiority. And so it was 
 lonely pile presents no veo' great atiractiou to the eycHtlialthe pride of fame was never able to miLster in UoE 
 
 est pride that was peculiarly his own. Rome was full 
 of wealthy Irishmen, jjourinj; out money in real or 
 imiiginary art collections. ' Call upon your country- 
 men and detnand their patronage,' said llo^an's friends; 
 
 of the traveller, being in no way remarkable for beuutyFJKan pride of family— pride of that honored parent tolc 
 or raairniricence. U'" "■''>^'" '"^ "'"* ''"^ ^^"^ '"'''if"' ond alVcctionato son!- 
 
 There is, however, a sort of interest imparted to thefl— '« "hose feet, with all a child's (Julifulness, he Ini.l^ 
 by the legend regarding its foundation, whichghis laurels, and with whom, with all a child's allegiance 
 
 cdilic 
 
 1 have endeavored to preserve from oblivion. I needed^ 
 not to have done so, for when Castle Koche shall liave 
 eniircly disappeared from the face of the earth, (the 
 time cannot be far distant, for the pcasiintry around 
 ore daily carrying away some of its fragments to build^ 
 or repair their dwellings,) the tale of its extroardinary ; 
 foundation by the beautiful Dane, will still be kept up i 
 in the neighborhood, since it is too much akin to the 
 ■natural romance of the Irish ever to be forgotten in 
 the district where it occurred. 
 
 DEATH OF JOHN HOCAN. 
 
 Within the vaulted circle in Glasiieviii Cemetery, 
 ■where rest the ashes of O'Connell, were laid on Tues- 
 day last the mortal remains of one whose name will 
 ever remind an Irishman of his country's glory and her 
 shame — of her glory in that she bore a son so gifted, 
 of her shame in that she honored him so coldly. Tear 
 may fall and marble rise above his grave ; the great 
 and proud ones of the land may come to place a wreath 
 upon his tomb and grieve for past indifference and cold 
 neglect ; but all the grief of ages, all the gold of Da- 
 homey, will not restore the life tinge to the pallid cheek 
 or put a life throb into the noble heart that moulders 
 silently below. He is gone — ' from man's ingratitude 
 to God !' 
 
 Since the days when the pen of Moore scathed the 
 Ghouls of London who ' came to feed at the grave' of 
 
 llogan, ami IJarry appear amidst that equality of ad-Ej' Never ' said his pride — the piide that told him it was 
 
 his right to be sought by Irish patrons, not to seek 
 them. And so while other and far less gifted men 
 were reaping golden harvests in the Kternal City, and 
 Irish wealth was pouring into the studios of Artists 
 from every other laud but his own, the |iroud young 
 Irishman was reaping merely the European — the world- 
 wide reputation which even his few firoduciions were 
 enough to gain. Kven for these, when executed for 
 Ireland, be was, wc blush to say, tardily if not scantily 
 paid. His ' Dead Christ' was not paid for at all by 
 the original purchasers, and was, after some delay, 
 transf..rred to others. For a dujilicatc of the same 
 
 Sheridan, no more glorious spirit ever bent and brokcF 
 beneath the anguish of the world's neglect ; no morc| 
 damning accusation was recorded against those who 
 left the lamp to expire before the shrine of God-like^ 
 genius, and swelled the throng of votaries at the fane 
 of frivolity and vice. The heaven-given spark that lit 
 the artist's soul and quickened him to the mission ol| 
 the heaven-like — the chaste, the beautiful, could find 
 no worshippers amongst the sordid wealth that saliat-p 
 cd itself with the luxuries of vulgarity. The I'riests off 
 Folly strutted in all the pomp of pride, while the chil 
 drcn of Genius were unnoticed and unhonored. ' Tof; 
 ■wake the soul by tender strokes of art ;' to prompt the 
 mind to lofty and crnobling impulses; to idealise thct 
 teachings of that inspimtion which seeks its agent in r 
 the pencil of a Raphael, the pen of a Dante, or the J 
 chisel of a Canova, was a vocation too pure for an at- ; 
 mosphere like that which chilled to death the warm ! 
 spirit of him whose clay-<old hand will never more win 
 laurels for his counlr)- or himself. 
 
 John Hogan w^as bom at Tallow, in the South of 
 Ireland, of an ancient and honored family, enjoying 
 that esteem and respect which is so often beyond the 
 reach of gold, and as often — as in this case — found 
 apart from it. But if bus father was not a millionaire, 
 his ancestry was not untraceable beyond the ilays of 
 Dutch troopers or unfathered cavaliers with Norman 
 Dames and plundered Irish proprties. liven were the 
 fortunes of Hogan 's family less bright, how much of 
 true nobility was its heritage was proved in him 
 ■who possessed not only the genius of an Artist, but tht 
 lofty spirit and noble nature of the ' aristocmcy of in- 
 tellect." His father belonged to the old Dalcassian 
 Sept 0' Hogan, of Arderona in Upper Ormond, where 
 the CTOml)ling remains of their turrettcd castle and bcl 
 fried church even still remain. His mother, France; 
 Cox, was great grand-daughter of the celebrated Sir 
 Kichard Cox, Lord Chief Justice of Ireland in the 
 reign of William and Mary, and Lord Chancellor in 
 
 he shared bis fortunes to the last. lie was eaHy des 
 tincd for the legal profession, but his strong prcdilcc 
 lions for the Fine Arts broke through all barriers, and] 
 
 he was at length transferred by his father to a |)atli||piece ho was — at least up to some years afier its exc- 
 more congenial to his tastes. He was placed underMcution — paid less than half the stipulated price, or 
 Mr. Deane, architect, of Cork — he who, now SirHbarely the cost of the marble and rough workman- 
 Thomas Deane, on Tuesday last stood mourning by|[ship. His monnment to Doctor Doyle — one of his 
 the hearse of his early pupil. Hogan entered as aKjgreatest and most beautiful works — was also for a long 
 student in a Cork School of Design, and from thencc-Mtime unpaid for. We forbear comment now on llio 
 forth commenced that career — brilliant, but, alas, too^reijuital he received for all this from the Catholic dig- 
 hricf — which has placed his name amongst the proud-Mnitaries of Ireland during the last ten years of his life ; 
 est on the roll of fame. Even at the very start heSnothing but a reluctance to deprive them of the pleas- 
 found .tdmirers enough, but few friends amongst thc|'|ure of even now making reparation to his memory seals 
 modern 'gentry.' Every one agreed that for the honor||our lips and spares them the bitter words of reproach 
 of the country the young Artist should be sent to siudyHthat rise thought of how that noble soul was wrung 
 in Rome, but it is unknown how long he might have!|\vith anguish by their cruel slight and ungrateful and 
 remained astonishing the world by prodigies of hisKunnational neglect. 
 [ artistic skill in simple pine wood carving in the CorkM His Artist Life in Italy, however, was not without 
 Gallery of Art, had not an English nobleman, Lordltits sunny pages. His own joyous and genial disposi- 
 l Dc Tabley, proved his friend. For him Hogan exe-lition would make sunshine of far darker days than ever 
 ^ cutcd in Rome his first work in marble, which nowj/jwere his in that country. The young student was 
 ' adorns Lord Dc Tabley's seat in Cheshire. Elight-heartcd and happy, but he was made still more 
 
 J When some one marvelled how it was that Keats, |fso the day he led his young Roman wife to the altar, 
 who unacqainted ■with the classic authors embodied in Jnnd pledged her that affection which struggled even 
 his poetry the spirit of old mythologic Greece withj^l'with death. A few years after, he visited his native 
 such truth and freshness, some one remarked — 'why|)land, and was present at, as our readers will recollect, 
 Wiecause he was a Greek.' The justice of this explana-|f and a participator in the proceedings at the Tara 
 tion is equally applicable to Hogan, who, bom in afflMceting in '43. He returned to Rome, ■where he rc- 
 ^ Waterford county town, developed as he grew to man-|[sumed his professional labors, and at last began to 
 hood a cast of mind jjurely Hellenic in its creativewreap the reward of all his fame. Fortune smiled upon 
 power, and whose chisel has bequeathed us a series ot^hira, but alas, in the midst of what was the commence- 
 ligures, of which several, at least for originality otHment of a brilliant and prosperous career, the disas- 
 onccption, in other words, truth to nature and sym-||trous events of '48 and 49 plunged Rome in anarchy 
 metrical execution, might have excited admiration infjand dismay. It was now, when meditating a tcmpo- 
 tho clime where the statue halls of the Parthenon dis-Slrary retirement from the city, that, fondly believing 
 iplined the artistic taste of the Athenians of old. TheJJtho tide of fortune would follow him to Ireland, he de- 
 
 ilomain of statuary is circumscribed within far narrow 
 .r limits than that of any other of the Fine Arts. Thcj 
 varieties of human form, attitude, grouping, express- 
 ion, &c., are easily exhausted by the plaster Artist; 
 iind nothing could more fully demonstrate the ■wonder-] 
 ful genius of Old Greece in this way than the abundance 
 of figures, each differing from the other in some char- 
 acteristic clement of power, beauty, or grace, which 
 are even now preserved to us. Indeed, the impossi- 
 bility of originating a new attitude was for a longtimej 
 an established creed among European sculptors, whot 
 with all their executive merits have done little more 
 ilian plagarise the formative conceptions of the Greeks. 
 We may well be proud that this triumph of originality 
 was reserved for a son of our soil. Hogan's ' Drnnk-E 
 n Faun ' is the most truly original creation of plaste: 
 art which Im-s been given to the world for some cen-' 
 turies. 
 
 Nothing can exceed the Greek grace, thep the biting breath of cnvions calumny, and the freezing 
 abandon of attitude in which he has thrown this eele-K torpor of neglect. He came to ex[ierience the ignoble 
 
 bratcd figure, or the imaginative truth of the express 
 ion traced upon the countenance, in which we see tin 
 human element gradually subjected to the bestial 
 This chef d'ouvre, executed in answer to a challenge' 
 iven tlic young Irish sculptor by Gibson, in the pres- 
 ence of the assembled artists of Rome, had a place in 
 the great London Exhibition of 1851, and would havCj 
 been awarded the prize but from the circumstance ofi 
 its being in plaster. Unhappily the Sculptor had noti 
 transferred to marble this creation, which the great 
 Thorswalsden eulogised as a 'miracle of Art.' 
 
 Those who knew Hogan intimately at Rome dc-j 
 [scribe with regret the extreme sensitiveness and mod-j ^ 
 
 termincd to make his own country henceforth the 
 scene of his labors, and earn for it the honor of such 
 merit as his productions could achieve. To Ireland 
 he came — this time bringing with him his family. 
 Alas! that we should WTite it — the sun of his fortunes 
 went down the day he proudly pointed out to his chil- 
 dren the land of their father's ancestors. He came 
 full of bright dreams for his country and himself; the 
 patriot and the artist would now commence in earnest 
 the labors that were to immortalise tjie heroes of Erin, 
 and give to an admiring world the bcaut'ful and glo- 
 rious episodes of her history; his chisel was to com- 
 plete what the painter's pencil, 'the tribune's tongue, 
 and poet's pen,' could not convey ; the saints of Ire- 
 land would throng the cathcdrcl niches, her heroes, 
 and sages, and martyrs, fill the halls and galleries of 
 the land. A beautiful vision — too soon to fade before 
 
 torture of being worried by what he felt to be intellec- 
 tual inferiority, and encountered by what he felt to be 
 unjust hostility. Unfortunately where he imagined 
 himself wronged, he was incapable tf making over- 
 tures of supplication, and so estrangement grew and 
 widened between him and those who ought to have 
 been his best friends or most constant patrons. 
 Cliqncry too added its sting to his many other irrita- 
 tions, and the flagrant piece of jobbery which rejected 
 his beautiful model for the Moore statue, and disfig- 
 ured our city with that abortion in College Street^ 
 planted an arrow in the great sculptor. Limerick, 
 however, to its honor, set on foot a movement which 
 
IRISH mSCELLANY. 
 
 189 
 
 sciousness of the peculiar misfonuno of being pros- 
 trate at such a time as he saw approacliiiig, preyed! 
 constaiuly on liis minrt and drove him into the grave. 
 His latest hopes were to live at least to see his son and! 
 
 ^oninicnoed what promised to be a new and happy crafflname amongst the long array of those whose geninsiraGilbert, George Sharpc, George Sharpe, Jr., Wra. 
 for Ilogan and the country. National nionumentsSllirough all time kept fresh and green the wreath offtSmythe, Wm. Carlcton, Henry Devitt, S. N. Elring- 
 scenied alioiit to find room at length in Ircluiul, and jm'amc around her brow. The gilded worthlessness of|fton, Dr. Stokes, Dr. H. K. Madden, J. Kirk, R. H 
 tlic chisel of Hogan constant employment. He sawjito-day, which ])assed him by tmnoticed, will return to f|A.; John Lentaignc, ]) L., Sir James Jlurr.-iy, Mi- 
 tho dawn, but it came too late: the bent bow wasMits original oblivion, but time will only add lustre toKchael Meade, J. Whittle, J. L. Whittle, Wm. Connol- 
 broken; his health was irretriveably gone, and the con-p,bls memory. Through life he bore himself like aKly, T. M. Ray, Esq; Ed. O'SuUivan, Esq., Cork; 
 ■.r .!,„ 1:.... „,:_»u — _j- i„! " Christian, and met death with a Christian's hope; a^Alexander M. Sullivan, Dr. Emmcr.son. P. Hagarty, 
 
 .■dutiful son, a good brother, a fond husband, an aflec-||l'. Magrath P. M'Nerin, Catterson Smith, R H A.; 
 
 ,tionate father, a faithful friend — he liad much to Ibr-ftG. F. Mulvany, R. H A.; Mr. Mulrcnin, R HA.; 
 
 ?^give the world, and nothing to be forgiven by itliMons. Blum, Mr. J. S. Mulvany, Jas. Delany, G. 
 namesake John — who promises to rival his father asP^Green be the grass on his grave, peaceful his sleep; letsjSmith, James French. Michael Foley, J. Martin, T C; 
 an artist, and imitate him as a man — and his faiihfulijus mourn not only a great sculptor, but a good man||Angclo Hayes, R H A.; Edward Hayes, Kev. G. B. 
 assistant and pnpil, Mr. Cahill to complete the mon-||gone to his last rest. Lord God look kindly on hisfe Wheeler, M A., Mr. Jones, J. M'Kenna, J. M'Don- 
 ument to Father Matthew, and the has relief for theSorphaQs, and let light perpetual shine upon his soul! «""'"> J- Martin, J. Farrcll, T. Farrell, W. Farrell, 
 Wellington testimonial. Tliis hope, however, wasra the funeral. II^'^'' ^'^' 
 
 fated to be unfulfilled. On Sunday week, (the 21st of| The honored remains of this distinguished IrishmanP *^" the procession aniving at the gate of the ccrre- 
 March,) he visited his studio to take a last look at hisMwere conveyed on Tuesday to their final resting-place Si ''-'■'y ''"^ coffin was received by Rev. Mr. O'Kclly. A 
 great piece— his own favorite— 'Hibernia inspiring! ivUhin the enclosed ground adjoining the spot whereljl"''"^'^'^^'™ ''^''" ''°''"'*^''' ''"'""'^""^^'l the cofl[in to the 
 Brian Boroiuha.' He looked trom his unfinished work>Hthe ashes of O'Connell his friend and patron reposed 4^^°''"'*'^? Chapel, where a number of the clergy had 
 to his son and pupil. 'Finish them well, boys,' said[|jn Prospect Cemetery Glasnevin. wassembled. The usual prayers for the dead having 
 
 the artist, I am never to handle the chisel more.' ItB The hour fixed for the departure of the mournlulsj'"^'^" '''^'^''^''' '^"'^ absolution of the dead having been 
 was even so; yet hope seemed not all gone up to theiprocession on Tuesday morning from WentworthlfP™""""'^'^'^' ''"^ ''°^^ ^^^ ''°™'^ f™'" 'he chapel to 
 following Friday. That night, mayhap, the Banshse'siplace was ten o'clock; but long before that time vast;|''* ''"'''^ '''^^""" ?'*"=''' °" "''^ right hand side of the 
 wail was heard among the ruined isles and mossljnumbers of carriages occupied by Catholic clergymen li^"'™"'^'^ '° ''"'^ enclosed ground above the vaults of 
 grown walls of Ardcrona Church; the spirit of Hogan Hand some of the most distinguished professional andy'**'^ '^'^'"''''^'■y- 0" the coffin being lowered into the 
 was preparing for its flight. Around his bed stood oriliterary men resident amongst us were drawn up in arj'-'""''''' ^^^ '''''• P^yii'S for the departed were read by 
 knelt his weeping wife and children- those childrenfeline along the street. Shortly before ten o'clock, all^®^' ''^' *-^°''™" a'ter which the large number of per- 
 whom he had almost adored; each pale face of hisfsplendid hearse, surmounted by dark ostrich plumes,||^°"^ assembled departed.— The Nation, 
 graceful daughters might have been, in pallor and inland drawn by six black horses, covered with sablell iL jvi . 4u . ..-i.viw . j„ j«.i' , nit«-t.i,amM:i^ 
 
 beauty, a treasure from his studio. Alternately helhousings, drove up in front of the late residence of thell Women and PitovEKus. — There is one thing that the 
 turned his dying gaze from the faithful companion of|jdeceased. The coffin, which was of solid Irish oak,|r""^*"' '*"" '"^ struck widi, the universal want of gal- 
 his affections to the sacred symbol of salvation; andfeeontaining the remains, was placed within the hearse.M^''""'''' "lanifesled in the proverbs of all languages, 
 ever and anon prefaced his dying prayer with a peti-^The upper section of the lid bore a gilt crucifix, and||'°'^''''''^ "^^ female sex. • Woman's beauty, the for- 
 tion for his children. At forty minutes past two onrabeneath was a gilt shield with the following iascrip-f^*^*' ^^''°' '""^ '''^ rainbow soon pass away,' say the 
 Saturday morning he was no more. fetion: |,ungallant Germans : who, further, uncivilly attest that 
 
 Mr. Hogan was in his fifty-seventh year, and wasi JOHN HOGAN. I' '^^'''™'" ^""^ ""'''''"' ™"'' ^^ P™'''='^' '^'^"^^'^ "-"ly 
 
 himself, when in youth and vigor, a model of manlyl t.- ^ ttr , „, ,, ,o-o ^ ■, f f^' ' """"^ "" ^"^"^"^ """ '"^'P '""^ "''"^'' 
 
 . . TT- . ,, . J „ • ,c '0 Died March 27th, 18d8, aged 57 years. S'lU'l that ' A woman s vcni'eanee knows no bounds ' 
 
 beautr- His tall, erect, and well-proportioned hgure,^ • ' o j -i = .iii,,i-.iiiut, miuus ho uounas. 
 
 his hJndsome face, his eye, in which the unmistakablei Requiescat in pace. ■J'^"''*= Italitns are not so downright damnatory as this; 
 
 lustre of genius shone;'his noble mien; his extreme| Above all was placed the hat sword scabbard ^''"' """" '"".'w'' "'?'"''"' '"""''^ "' ""' ^'"'°"'" 
 
 a ADOve ail, was piacea tne hat, sword, scabbardlfasscrtions. ' Women's tears are a fountain of craft ' 
 
 and sword-belt of the uniform of the deceasedJand ' Women always speak the trutli-but not the 
 
 as a member of the Society of St. Luke. The| ,vhole truth,' say the Southern moralists, adding that 
 
 n .rS" """^' proceeded from Wentworth Place by^y Women know a point more than the devil,' and that 
 
 ■• Une|Holles St, into Merrion Square, and as it entered|. Women rouge that they may not blush.' Then come 
 
 nan intiCia,.e Street, the long line of carriages extended as far«l|he sU 
 
 simplicity of manners, and utter guilelessncss, will 
 long be remembered by those whose privilege it wasi 
 to know him within the domestic circle. He leaves 
 eleven children — seven daughters and four sons, 
 of the latter was the model for the youthful B 
 
 u- .T ■ .• . 1 <• ■ , J ^ , W""" ""■""" """""^ '""' ""^'"""'*'""''^""'""'" """"a'he slandering Portuguese grinders of m.axims which 
 
 his 'Inspiration.' before mentioned; and one of tlie|as could be seen in the direction of Mount Street.l they deliver accordiit to this bad mcr-nvc < Y 
 former for ■Hibernia,' in his statue of Lord Cloncarry.|The doorways were crowded by hundreds of the work I S .nd sheep art at hom ' and • W: m . l"" 
 
 It is true that this large family-the eldest only eigbt-Lg classes who joined the prLssion. and the win- rXays^VaiL. rte haughty ^^^^ilTds^^^^ 
 een years-are unprovided for, save m so far as it is|dows of the houses on its course were occupied b^f that ' Women, wi.rd, and fortune, Ln clLigerjer- 
 
 unnatural not to regard it as certain that the childrenl3|adies and gentlemen, 
 of such a man, the wards of tlie Irish nation, are as-| 
 
 surcd of sufficient friends to fill towards them, as far|ward and Joseph, the four sons of the deceased. From|. ,o fan treason into a full blaze always fan with a pet' 
 as may be, a fathers place — but it is untrue and un-ElevKi-v sireni Ipu.lln.r tn -NTnc.^,,,, Gf™,.f „„..,.:.,„„„ :„:.,„,iM . . •' ' " i""' 
 
 „,.,,„ ^" ""^ ''™ mourning carriagcs||,.old, on the other hand, rather complimen^ts the sex 
 
 |which followed the hear.se were John, Richard, Ed-|w|,en he lays down his maxim in 'St. Cupid ' that 
 |ward and Joseph, the four sons of the deceased. Froml. ,o fan treason inm .t fnll hi 
 feevery street leading to Nassau Street carriages joined j|[icoat.- 
 
 just towards the deceased and hurtful to the living toitlie procession, and as it entered Grafton Street, ihetj 
 
 assert that be either lived or died in 'poverty.' Hisicnd of it could not have passed Westland Row. ' AsM 
 
 works were far too profitless to yield him what such a|,|,c hearse approached the College gate, the students, [Icrat h.as the followino 
 man ought to have received, but they were ever sufBc-|numbering about two hundred, issued two by two| 'Pnm reliable sou'J 
 lent in hands so careful, to maintain his family in a^iVora the inner entrance. They wore their academ * 
 
 The FottCKS for Utah.— The St. Louis Dcmo- 
 ; statement: 
 1 sources we have leceived the follow- 
 
 social po.non. not, indeed, as lofVy as they dcserved,|c aps and gowns, and w.re headed by Professor Shaw,iirru::"L: Sot^^^Mi;' m^^'^^U '^ 
 yet still independent, and to educate them. UD to thcBiI.'rnn ni„l P,f,r..^c..r no,.„,i,.i,a„i ri-Tnr. /-.„„. te« . •' """- expiitu ana 
 
 present at least, as ih 
 
 Hogan. More than this, however, the country did iiotf|drew up to enable the students to take up their po: 
 enalde liiiu to do; it is for it now to make recjuital, Ition in front of the procession, and as they passed tl 
 and secure them that provision which it sliould have Scoflin, iliey lifted their caps in respectful reverence to 
 accorded through a living father's hands. It remains |ihe dead. This demonstration of nationality and re- 
 to be seen whether the pnblic taste and morals of ou 
 times are too dcjiraved to wor.ship brute instinct and 
 animal passions less than purifying genius and intel 
 lectual greatness ; whether a man to be regarded as i 
 
 hero and receive a hero's guerdon, must have shownRmoreland Street, over Carlisle bridge, to "theend of-'l We learn ..Isn .l,„f P„„ q •.. • . j- ,• 
 
 his diabolical skUl in butchering and disfiguring hiJkickviUe Street, opposite the Hotum,;, when the ..t^:^^:;^^^'^'^^ 'Z":^. 1^ 
 species, and not in elevating and ennobling hunia.nty.ydents drew aside from the line of procession, and|„a.diatelv for Fort Leavenworth, where the order for 
 Ilogan ,s de.ad; the brilliant brain whose gloru^uslremamed uncovered while the hearse w.^ passir,g.|t movement of the forces will be immediately given' 
 concepiions won the admiration of a woild, is stilled J Amongst the gentlemen present whose names we couidr* b"^"- 
 
 for ever; the hand that seemed to surpass the marble -^learn were: — 
 fidelity of death, untouched by death's decay, has ^ Rev J Farrcll, Rev. Michael Cifl"e, Rev. D 
 
 yielded up the palm to the great con(|iieror; rigid and jCarroll, R;v. F.ith'.r Ba ssell, O P.; Rev. Mr. Aslu 
 cold, and pale as one of his own wondrous sculptures, ^0 S F.; Rev. Mr. Meehan, SB Michael and John'! 
 
 Ihree batteries of light artillery, 1 battery of heavy 
 
 irtillery, 1 regiment (10 companies) foot artillery, 1 
 
 •ompany sappers and miners, 1 ordnance company, 1 
 
 ^ egiment of cavalry, 1 regiment of dragoons, 1 rcgi- 
 
 ^-Ijmcntof infantry; making a total of 7«coni|)anies — 
 liect tor genius was the more to be admired as it wasgabout GOOD men. 
 
 of the Platte, and 
 !y be replaced by 
 
 dsjiect tor genius was the more to be admired as it wasRabout GOOD men 
 
 athe free and willing act of these gentlemen, and noi|j The troops now in the department , 
 ^ordered or enforced in anyway by the superiors of tlul ,„„ler orders for Utal,, will probably 
 |Univcrsity. The funeral resumed its course up West-gthe two regiments of volunteers " 
 
 i pale _ __^ ^ 
 
 lies the great artist, calm, placid, glorious, even in .John G'Toole, Esq ; T. O'Hagan, Q C; Dr. Wylde y '] wis 
 death. Posterity will name his name with honor, andLD,-. R. Lyons. J. O.Drmoghc; Dr. Atkinson, T.Dicks Enp at thi 
 gaze upon his works with pride; Ireland will place liisBSir Thomas Doane, George Farrell, Dr. Gray, J. T.Eda k one.' 
 
 J Dr. Burgees. — A link-b oy asked Dr. Burgess, the 
 ^.'preacher, if he would have a light. 
 4 'No, child,' said the Dr., 'I am one of the lights of 
 " the world.' 
 
 1), then,' replied the boy, 'that you were hung 
 the end of our alley, for wo live in a dieadfully 
 
190 
 
 IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 L I T E R A T U.R E . 
 
 The Bl-u-k Hai<..m;t; or The Chronicles of Bnlly- 
 
 triiiii. By William CarUton. Boston: Patrick 
 Doiinlioc. 1S58. 
 
 In the lirst number of the Miscellnny wc gave a 
 necessarily brief notice of this work after n hasty 
 glance at its contents. Since then we Imveiiernsecl 
 it with the attention it deserves, and have no hesi- 
 tation in pronouncing it the ablest work which has 
 yet enuinateJ from the prolific pen of the distin- 
 guished author. As a writer of fiction, AVilliam 
 Carleton has few superiors. His delineations of 
 the Irish peasant class, stand unrivalled. Himself 
 the son of humble parents in the north of Ireland, 
 reared in the midst of the scenes he describes, and 
 the characters he draws with such life-like accura- 
 cy, he must possess peculiar capabilities for sketch- 
 ing the events which he has hitherto invested with 
 60 much interest, and thrown around them the 
 charm of his genius. 
 
 Carleton as a writer, is not however without de- 
 fects, and some of his descriptions, got up evident- 
 Iv for the purpose of pointing a moral, are drawn 
 with such apparent c.\ageration as to resemble, in 
 our opinion, the pcncilings of a caricaturist. Thus 
 his descrip'tion of the village of Ballybrackcn in 
 his 'llody the Rover,' is so essentially an exagera- 
 tion of truth, that is seems to have been produced 
 for an ctfectat the expense of lus less favored coun- 
 trymen. 
 
 There is in the Black Baronet, defects of a like 
 kind, but they are few, and the work contains so 
 much that is really beautiful and good, we shall not 
 refer more particularly to them. 
 
 As we above indicated, the genius of Carleton 
 was generally supposed to be peculiar, — to excel 
 only in scenes descriptive of the middle and poor- 
 er classes of his countrj-men. In the present work, 
 Carleton has shown that his powers are not thus 
 confined. Ue has broken new ground in liis mas- 
 terly delineations of the terrible passions of un- 
 principled ambition and revenge, and surpassed all 
 his former efforts. 
 
 We had marked so many beautiful passages for 
 quotation, that we find they would fill many pages 
 of the Miscellany, and we must, therefore refer the 
 reader to the work itself for many of the most viv- 
 id descriptions ot Irish scenery and Irish peasant 
 life, that Carleton ever produced. 
 
 The plot is founded on fact, and in development 
 of character, artistic construction and style, it has 
 few superiors. There is in all Carleton-s novels, a 
 moral object, which is kept prominently before the 
 reader, and unlike other writers of fiction, he gives 
 no quarter to the evil doer — has no extenuation for 
 the depraved. Ue describes the vices of the wick- 
 ed of everj- class, in such a manner that we in- 
 stinctively abhor the criminal and condemn the 
 erinic. The concluding scene is a masterly piece of 
 dramatic writing. Indeed, the whole work from 
 its inception to its conclusion, is full of dramatic 
 interest, and with very little alteration might be 
 rendered into one of the finest dramas iu the Eng- 
 lish language. 
 
 The work is got out in excellent stj-le by the 
 publisher, and we would urge every one of our 
 readers to possess immediately a copy of Carleton's 
 greatest work. 
 
 IsjusTiCE TO TUK Ass. — We all talk of the ass os 
 the stupidest of the browsers of the field ; yet, if any 
 one shuts up a donkey in the same enclosure with a 
 half dozen horses of the finest blood, and the party 
 escape, it is infallibly the poor donkey that has led llic 
 way. It is he alone that penetrates the secret of the 
 bolt and latch. Often have we stood at the other side 
 of a hedge, contemplating a whole troop of blood mares 
 and their otfspriug, waiting, while the donkey was 
 snuflinn over a piece of work to which all but he felt 
 themselves incompetent. Donkey is far from lacking 
 his share of natural instinct. 
 
 Tin; luisii IIoiisbTameu. — On Friday afternoon, 
 the Iritih horse tamer or 'Whisperer,' exhibited his 
 extraordinary powers in the taming of an extreme- 
 ly vicious animal in the establishment of Mr. Olden, 
 Veterinary Surgeon, Winthrop street. It was stated 
 by mistake in Wednesday's Examiner, that Mr. 
 Karey, the American horse tamer, was to vieit Cork 
 and to exhibit there, Mr. Sullivan being the party 
 whom we should have mentioned as being about to 
 do so. It was expected that he would have been in 
 by the eleven o'clock train on Friday morning, but 
 he did not come until three o'clock, so that most of 
 those who had aasembled to witness the experiment, 
 had gone away, but as soon as it became known that 
 he had arrived at three o'clock, a large crowd as- 
 sembled iu Mr. Oldcn's yard, among whom were a 
 good many country gentlemen. The horse selected 
 is the property of Mr. T. W. KnoUes, of Oatlands, 
 and is about sLx years old. In consequence of its 
 vicious and ungovernable disposition, its hind feet 
 had never been shod, and so unmanageable was it 
 that it was quite useless for ordinary purposes, and 
 was being fattened up for the kennel. When about 
 being removed from Oatlands, it gave the grooms a 
 good four hours' hunt before it could be caught, 
 Mr. Sullivan shut himself up in the stable alone 
 with it, and remained there for about twenty min- 
 utes, at the end of which time the parties in the 
 yard were admitted, when they found the animal 
 which had been so wild and unmanageable less than 
 half an hour before, lying quietly on the stable floor 
 and Mr. Sullivan's head between its hind legs. It 
 was now perfectly tame and docile, and the grooms 
 who had before approached it only with the utmost 
 caution, found it so gentle as to be managed with 
 the greatest ease. Several gentlemen present also 
 tried the animal and found that the essay of Mr. 
 Sullivan's powers had been perfectly succesful. Mr. 
 Olden himself, was not present at the time, but he 
 had witnessed on a former occasion the astonishing 
 effects of the ' whisper,' and on examining the horse 
 immediately after he found the circulation of the 
 blood slightly quickened, but the effect on the pulse 
 was hardly perceptible. Mr. Sullivan is the grand- 
 son of the original Irish ' whisperer ' and there seems 
 to be verj- little doubt that the secret he possesses is 
 the same as that in possession of Mr. Rarey, and de- 
 rived originally from the same source, though the 
 enterprising American hcs contiived to gain more 
 distinguished notice, and seems likely to derive a 
 much greater profit from it. — Cork Ex., March 22. 
 
 A Saoaciocs ELEniANT. — The 'cultiv.itor/ which 
 was sulliciently large to anchor any twenty of the 
 small native bullocks, looked a mere nothing behind 
 the splendid elephant who worked it, and it cut through 
 the wi'y roots of the rank turf as a knife peels an 
 apple. It was amusing to see this same elephant 
 doing the work of three separate teams when the seed 
 was in the ground. She first drew a pair of heavy 
 harrows; attached to these, and following behind, were 
 a pair of light harrows; and behind these came a rol- 
 ler. Thus the land had the first and second harrow- 
 ing and rolling at the same time. This elephant was 
 particularly sagacious; and her farming work being 
 completed, she was employed in making a dam across 
 a stream. She was a very large animal, and it was 
 beautiful to witness her wonderful sagacity in carrying 
 md arranging the heavy timber required. The rough 
 trunks of trees, from the larely felled forest, were lying 
 within fifiy yards of the spot, and the trunks required 
 for the dam were about fifteen feet long, and fourteen 
 to eighteen inches in dinmeter. These she carried in 
 her moudi, shifcing her hold along the log before she 
 raised it, until she had obaincd the exact balance; 
 then, steadying it with her trunk, she carried every log 
 to the spot, and laid them across the stream in paral- | 
 Id rows. These she herself arranged, under the direc- | 
 lion of her driver, with the reason apparently of a hu- ■ 
 man being. The most extraordinary part of her per- 
 formance was the arranging of two immense logs of 
 
 red keeiiar, (one of the heaviest woods.) Tliesc were 
 about cighicen feet long and two feet in diameter, and 
 they were intended to lie on either hank of the stream 
 parallel to the brook and dose to the edge. These 
 she placed with the greatest care in their exact posi- 
 tions, unassisted by any one. She rolled iliem gently 
 over with her head, then, with one foot, and keeping 
 her trunk on the opposite side of the log, she cheeked 
 its way whenever its own monientum would have car- 
 ried it into the stream. Allhuugh I thought the work 
 admirably done, she did not seem quiic satisfied, and 
 she presently got into the stream and gave one end of 
 the log an extra push with her head, which completed 
 her task, the two trees lying exactly parallel to each 
 other, close to the edge of either bank. — [Wanderings 
 in Ceylon. 
 
 MISCELLANEA. 
 
 To find out the number of cbildren in a street, com- 
 mence beating a brass drum. To find out the number 
 of idle men, start a dog fight. 
 
 An old lady being asked what she thought of the 
 mutiny in India, replied that, to her mind, it was ex- 
 tremely ■ Hindoodicious.' 
 
 ' Do you drink hale in America?' asked a Cockney. 
 'No, we drink thunder and lightning!' said the Yan- 
 kee. 
 
 A shoemaker, intending to be absent a few days, 
 lampbhicked a shingle with the following, without date, 
 and nailed it upon his door. ' Will be at home ten 
 days from the time you see this shingle.' 
 
 'Look here, Pete,' said a knowing darkey to his 
 companion, ' don't stand on de railroad.' ' Why Joe V 
 'Kase, if de cars see dat mouf of yours, dey will link 
 it am a depot, and run rite in.' 
 
 'I suppose,' said a quack, feeling the pulse of a pa- 
 tient, 'that you think me a humbug.' ' Sir,' replied 
 the sick man, ' I perceive you can discover a mau's 
 thoughts by his pulse.' 
 
 A quaint old gentleman, of an active stirring dispo- 
 sition, had a man at work in his garden who was quite 
 the reverse. ' Jones,' said he, ' did you ever see a snaiU' 
 ' Certainly,' said Jones. ' Then,' said the old boy, 
 ' you must have met him, for you could never overtake 
 him.' 
 
 Family Supplies. — A store-keeper not a hundred 
 miles from Boston, recently received from a respect- 
 able family the following order for a few articles iu his 
 line : — 
 
 Two ounces of tinker of rhubarb. 
 
 Two pounds of cotton battens. 
 
 Won pound of good brown shoogcr. 
 
 In one of our city schools, not long ago, a member 
 of the committee asked the members of a class which 
 was under examination, ' What was the cause of the 
 saltncss of the ocean !' Soon one little girl raised her 
 head fiushed with the discovery which had (lashed upon 
 her mind. ' You may tell,' said the committee-man. 
 ' Salt fish, sir,' said the pupil. 
 
 Sidney Smith, the witty English clergyman, was 
 once examining some flowers in a garden, when a 
 beautiful girl, who was one of the party, exclaimed, 
 'Oh, Mr. Smith, this pea will never come to perfec- 
 tion.' 'Permit me, then,' said Sidney, gently takiug 
 her hand, 'to lead perfection to the pea.' 
 
 'How old are you, Bridget!' said a gentleman to his 
 servant girl. 
 
 'About fifty, sir,' replied Bridget. 
 
 'You arc mistaken, Bridget ; you are not over 
 twenty.' 
 
 'Yes sir, that is it. I'm about twenty or fifty, some- 
 where along there.' 
 
 This answer indicates about the same degree of in- 
 telligence as that of an old grey-headed negro in Soaih 
 Carolina. 
 
 'How old arc you, Pete?' said a gentleman to him 
 one day. 
 
 'I dunno, massa, I feels very ole; 'spect I'sc about 
 five or si.x hundred.' 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 191 
 
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 Where a ^reat variety of the most popular Books and 
 
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 HOME: ITS RULER AND INSTITUTIONS. 
 
 By John Francis Maguire, M.P. 
 
 Cloth extra, S1.25. D. & J. Sadlier & Co., 164 ■William 
 street. New York. 
 
 For sale by W. Hickey, 12S Federal st, Boston. 
 
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 3t 
 
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 & BO Cornhill, occupied by the late lirm, and holds himself 
 readiness to supply all orders with which he may be fa- 
 
 vored. 
 
 Te Antique Booke Store still flourisheth, 
 
 Asytte dide in days of yore; 
 And ye Burnham still catereth] 
 
 For ye lovers of ancient lore. 
 
 al7 3t 
 
 SAMUEL MASURY. 
 
 PHOTOGRAPH AND DAGUERREOTYPE 
 
 AETIST. 
 
 289 Washington Street, 
 
 (Up one flight of stairs) 
 
 Boston. 
 Photographs taken of every size and finished in Oil, Wa- 
 ' '^ ' ' '" ' '^ guerreotypes taken in 
 
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 BOSTON MUSEUM. 
 \V. U. Smith, stage Manager. 
 
 Open for the production of Tragirties, Comedies, Spec- 
 tacles, Farces, &c. 
 Exhibition Hall opens at 6 1-2; commences at 7 1-2. 
 Admission 25 cents; Reserved Seats 60 cents. 
 
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 The Grand Combination every night 
 Doors open at 7; Performance commences at 7 1-2. 
 Dress Boxes 75 cts; Circle boxes 50 cts; Purquette 50 cts; 
 Orchestra 75 cts; Upper Boxes 25 cts; Gallery 13 cts. 
 
 NATIONAL THEATRE. 
 
 (Corner of Portland and Traverse Streets.) 
 
 C. R. TnoRNE, Lessee and Manager. 
 
 Open nightly for the production ot Melo-drama, Farces 
 Burlesques, &c. 
 
 Doors open at 7 1-4 o'clock; Performence commences at 
 1-4 of S. 
 
 Prices of admission— Reserved seats 60 cts; boxes 25 cts ■ 
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 PBOSPEOTUS. 
 
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 B^V^F^.NOE, ATTORNEY and COUNSELLOR 
 . AT LAW , 15 Massachusetts Block, Court Sciuare 
 Boston. ^ ' 
 
 OTarticular attention paid to Conveyancine and the 
 examination of titles of Real Estate. feblS 
 
 tcr, Indi:i Ink and Pastel Colo 
 the most superior man 
 
 BUY the NEW YORK TABLET, the best Catholic Fam- 
 ily Paper published. Folio, 16 pages; price cents. 
 I) & J Sadlier & Co. For sale Wholesale and Retail bv 
 W. Hickey, 128 Federal street. 3tal7 ' 
 
 THE IRISH VINDICATOR, 
 A WEEKLY NEWSPAPER, 
 
 The Best and Cheape.st Published in America. 
 
 rpIIIS splendid Paper, which is little over nine months 
 X iu exi^lenco, has met with the 
 
 JI (J S T W O N D E R F U L S U C C ESS, 
 
 and has been pronounced by the Press and the Public to be 
 
 superior to any other Irish Weekly in the United Slates. 
 
 It contains each week, the veiy 
 Latest News from every County in Ireland • 
 Original and entertaining 
 STORIES AND ANECDOTES, 
 and a variety of Miscellaneous Reading matter, of a charac- 
 ter which cannot fail to elevate and chasten the iiitel- 
 leclual appetite. The Irish Vindicator is devoted 
 10 THE INTERESTS OF IRISHMEN IN AMERICA, 
 and is so cheap as to be within the reach of the poorest. 
 
 ONLY THREE CENTS A COPY. 
 
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 FOR advertising, 
 
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 12 d(i. 3 months, 6.50 1 12 do. 1 year, 16.00 
 
 I'uhlished every week, at the OOicc, No 10 Spruce street, 
 New York, by the Proprietor. 
 
 EDWARD DOWNES COXNEUY & CO. 
 
 ^ew York, march 27 
 
 THE DAVIDSON SYRINGE. 
 
 Manufactured by 
 
 C. II. BAVIDSON & CO. 
 
 No. 40 City Square, 
 
 Charlestown, 
 
 Thfs Insirumenc received tite highest premium at the Fair of Hie 
 AniLTican Institute, Cn/sial I'alace, New i'urk, 18.57. The judjes 
 were D. Meredith Keese, M. D.,LL. D.; J. M. Carnochan, M. 
 D.; and Henry G. Cox, M. D.. 
 
 Persons snbject to Habitual Constipation, will derive 
 great benefit from the daily use of this instrument, and fre- 
 quently effect a radical cure of the difHculty, as well as avoid 
 the constant use of cathartics, which afford only temporary 
 relief, and debilitate, while the injection acts as an invi^-orant 
 
 J)3-For Sale by all Wuolosale Druggists. Surgical Instru- 
 ment Makers, and India Rubber Dealers, throughout the 
 ITnited States, and by Ketail Druggists and Apothecaries 
 everywhere.. 
 
 PASSENGER CERTIFICATES. 
 
 TO OLD COUNTRYMEN', (iwkn 3In Namara has 
 Passage Certilicates and riialts always nn hand and 
 iorsale. As he does business lor that lllo^t rc-iir itnhl,. 
 house, (Williams & Guiou) in New York, old CoMutrvmen 
 desiring to send for their friends, or remit money, would 
 do well to give him a call atNo. 4Gorham St.. opposite 
 Summer St., Lowell, Mass. aii2tf 
 
 DO'ROURKE, respectfully informs his friends and the 
 . public, that he keeps constantly on hand COFFINS 
 ol :ill si/js nndkinds.ut his Collin Manulactory, No. 347 
 ]r.h fill, i„.|v.,-.n Beach and Kneelaiid Streets, Boston, 
 Willi 1 1 In u HI ,11 as reasonable us can be bought at any oth- 
 
 N. i;.— indejs punctually attended to, day or night. 
 Residence, No. 28 South street, Boston. 
 (!:7"Grave-ClothC8 lUrnislied to order at short notice. 
 fehl3 
 
 w 
 
 engraved at 
 
 ILl.IA.M JIANNl.NG, Sexton & Fumi-.al LMiii-- 
 TAKKUot the Doiclii'sler Calhcdic Ciini'lerV. would 
 l» ami tire public, that he keep~ ccinjtantly 
 iiilaeinies to urcler, cotlins of all sizes and 
 '1 Davis St., Koxburv 
 
 TRISH MISCELLANY IT,..,,,ciu8. On Saturday the 
 X 13th day ol f,h,M;,M I-;,- „.,„ published the lirst 
 muinbero anew «..l , . , i..u ,, .1, with the above title, 
 
 dedicated to the dilln , .:, ,,1 ,,, i„,iniate knowledge ol 
 
 the literary and pul,i,.,a |„..u,j of Ireland, and l3 the 
 mental, moral and poliucal elevation of the Celtic race on 
 this continent. 
 
 prin;^dSef^?S';,,r''\,i=:":*^;".?^;p:;e-ofciosd^ 
 
 5;eal^n!aii"niV:::t;''';i:;j;::;;;!'';;;;;' ;':;;■-'•)•;" 
 
 In asking Ini pnhlir -„|,| ,,,, ,l,.-"l,',.)'"'w:,.,lln„y, it is 
 
 K!^5-.-::;;;v:.:,;:;:::;-:;::;r:;:,:^,!:;:r;:i^^ 
 
 Wehavenuiikiil i ^n,-:, , ,,,„, , ,".,, ',j 
 
 original OIU' mil n r!l|,l, .l \,^ ;||;\ uljn I 1,1 III, ii, i". ;„ .1 i3 
 
 country. We pnip,,,,. i,, ,;„lli, ale a nuu uiiiti, althouirh 
 naturally rich and lertile, and capable of produeiiiL' the 
 choicest flowers and fruits of literature, has hitherto lain 
 comparatively barren and unproductive. Into this held we 
 shall enter with a lull confidence of its capabilities but with 
 a modest dilBdence of the skill which we shall brint to it« 
 culture. " ° 
 
 It has long been a reproach to our race here, that while 
 the publications of the day, with but few exceptions teem 
 with vile carricatures of usand of our country- while we 
 are continually held ui; to public gaze as everything that is 
 foolish, absurb and vicious— but little ellortis made tonlace 
 the true character of our people before the public eye or 
 vindicate our name and race from the calumnies with wLich 
 English hate everywhere pursues us. 
 
 To correct, in some measure, this crying evil, it was at 
 first intended to gather together a number of Irishmen dis- 
 tinguished in the walks ot literature, and publish monthly 
 a review, which, for sterling talent, should be second to 
 none published here or in Euorpe. The great expense con 
 sequent upon an undertaking of this magnitude, deterred ua 
 from the attempt, compelled us to relinquish our desieu 
 a™ to substitute instead thereof, our more unpretending 
 
 We propose tore-produce in our weekly periodical the 
 writings ol many of the great minds who hn\e gone before 
 us, while we shall also cull Jrom the current Irish literature 
 ot the day, such productions of merit as cannot fail to be 
 acceptible to our readers. Our country is rich in Iceendr^ 
 lore, and the legends of the old land, while they Smuse 
 serve to instruct and to elevate. ' 
 
 W'e shall theretore publish such instructive tales and le- 
 gends ot a high moral tone, that will remind us of the ban 
 Ijy times when we— *^ 
 
 'Sat by the fire of a cold winter's night 
 Along with our friends telling tales of delight.' 
 
 We shall give iaithlul descriptions and illustrations of 
 Irish antiquities— ot our ruinedraonasteries, our plundered 
 abbeys and churches; and our pictorial illustrations of Irish 
 scenery and antiquities will present to loving minds manv 
 tamihar scenes of early childhood. We have secured the 
 services of talented artists, and each number of 'the Mive^l 
 any will contain numerous illustrations executed in the" 
 best style ot art. " 
 
 We shall keep constantly before our readers the ancient 
 glory ot our country and while we ponder with pride upon 
 the moral and intellectual superiority of Ireland, wheS 
 England and the rest of Europe was sunk in ignorance and 
 fuYur"'*" ' '''"' *'""' ^'''"' "* ""^ '"'^' "^ "^ '""<^nt»e to the 
 
 The biographies of distinguished Irishmen will be an im- 
 portant feature in the Irish Miscellany, as we shall g"e 
 biographical no ices of Irishmen distinguished iu every 
 department of literature, science and an— of men distiii 
 guishedontheseaand on land: in the church the senate 
 and at the bar. ccuaie, 
 
 It is our intention to republish the works of Irish writera 
 now out of print, in such a manner that they may be nrc- 
 served to future tmie as a memento of the old land and 
 serve to incalculate, in the minds of the rising senen'itio ■ 
 a filial regard for the land of their fathers g>:">;"'"on, 
 
 We propose commencing with the Dublin Fenny Journal. 
 awork wuchm its day enjoyed unbounded popularity' 
 
 Irish Characters with F.,..lish'''t'?^usla;!on in „' ""-'^rh'fs 
 dep.lrtment oltlie .);„,//„„,, will be in the hands ofan Ir sh 
 ,geii lenum en-ry wav cnqKlent to the task. 
 
 poii;!c^'?^,Hi;::''i;;:;^"ul';;r!,''o"''*^^'"''''p''^''™''''''''i 
 
 j^uijucai p.u ui ■- - 1 (j( .--I. i\ c ul iiuiic' ilMich questions as af- 
 cal'devaUoi''' '"''"'' *°'' '''''''""0™'> >n'tel'lectll'iu'and''pt?itil 
 mei'i'ol-aiuHi'v' ]lt?lt ^?^ ^'', '"""f »'?<"'? 'several gentle- 
 come jiiit'st lit tJiu lm-.-^i(lL-(.t c-verv family. "With these re- 
 
 wTsli'V^lf onr'r'i'ee '' T ^"TI/" '".'■' -Wo^ of ev'ery''well 
 wifhei of oiii laee ^\ i- teel there is room for such a nut- 
 
 M- i: ".-.V.-""' '"t (_(.)., I-uhlishers, 
 n-^ A.i /> •" ■ ' •^'''''" Street, Boston. Mass, 
 
 T,"^^"*^?"""",","""'"!'"*'" fl'o Jiditors of theMlscEL- 
 l4hlTs"e'rf Boston jS-'''' °' M- J- '**'-ii-su & Co., 
 
 '.I I.I. fiisi i:i;,v ;,,i.l UiE- 
 iiM. llii-lnn, rr,,),rii.tors 
 
 I 1 1 \ . 1,-1 , riiiiiiv an- 
 
 -1 l;n.|..ri ;,nil >,. V„rk, 
 I. ir tacililies lor Posting 
 II aire. Concert, Lecture, 
 
 K 
 
 El.T.Y S: ( r"xXIXl,II \M 
 
 and I ) 
 
 Aueii 
 
 Ohi 
 
 -'■ ii 11 I I I I HI ili.irbu.siness, they have 
 .11 ol.ii^.i.l lo mid l,,>rM.s and waMiis to their heretofore 
 iplc accommodations, to which they give their personal 
 
 •.•Thankful for pa.st favors tliey would respectfully so- 
 licit a continuance of nnbhc patronage. 
 
 I^vELLY & CUNNINGHAM, 2 Williams Court 
 '^''l-^ Boston 
 
 ul and I 
 
 us III varnnipqualities-forsale, and colIin plates 
 hort notice. Price of Graves, S3.60. 
 
 CJ E.SANBOR.V Wholesale and Retail Dealer in Gold 
 O. and MLVER Matches. Jkwelrv, .Silver Wakk 
 ^''l^V'T^f- ^t ^°--^'-^ Federal Streei, Boston ""■ 
 Clo^s^J^vell-^U'c.Tc','"' ^"'" '" ^^^'''""fi "IVIr, 
 
SLl. 
 
 
 m 
 
 <^Ni -W W^'*^ >^M 
 
 <?9 
 
 §rlfctcb rrprcssli) for i\t |rislj lilisccKann, 
 
 FROM THE " SPIRIT OF THE NATION. 
 
 P O E T rj Y 13 Y T II O ]M ^ S D ^ V I S . 
 
 AGGQEPAJJMEiST FQ« TttE PIM©«FQETE. 
 
 > ALLEGRO. 
 
 
 -^r*^ 
 
 1. W'TTcn oil Kiiiiiillk's' bloody field, The biijtied French were forced to yield, Hie victor Saxon bacUward lecl'd Ikfore the elmree of Chire's Drapoons. Tim 
 
 2. The biuveold lord died near the fight, But, foreiuh drop he lost that night, A Sax-on cava - lier shall bite The dust before Lonl Clare's Dragoons. For, 
 
 ^£iiill;§E^te^^^^^ 
 
 
 -a-a--0-0- 
 
 — I 
 
 Ypres' choir, they s.ty, We'll win them conipa - 
 when our sa - bres met, Could we the Sax ■ on i 
 
 zJ^-TizT^zzzKr-zir^^TT^-Z 
 
 ^^^■^^=^'^' 
 
 flags we conquer'd in that fray Look lone in Ypres' choir, they s.ty. We'll win them compa - iiy to - day, Or hravedy die, like Clare's dragoons 
 .nev-er,when our spurs were set, And never, when our sa - bres met. Could we the Sax ■ on sol - diers get To stand the shock of Clare's Dragoons. 
 
 «-/ _^_ • -0- -#- —0- ^ -m- -m- -d - -d- . —»--»- • • _<?— _S_ -— - • —m- • 
 
 -A-^-i-A 
 
 ±z-lzz^z=z=A:4=E=z Izp:s=z=Jj=jEjzJi:I:p=^ =:££: 
 
 I • • • I 
 
 z^^z'S^-z^. 
 y.'izzz^zzijzzn: 
 
 for 
 the 
 
 Ireland's wron 
 New Brigade! And 
 
 -a- 
 
 Ire-land's right. \i - 
 Old One, too,: Vi ■ 
 
 
 J 1 
 
 x:zd: 
 
 .-a la 
 va la 
 
 
 bat - tic throng. For a Spanish steed and sabre bright ! 
 : rose shall fade. And the Shamrock shine forcvcrnewl 
 
 I Ml J I I 
 
 zti--: 
 
 zczz 
 
 3. 
 
 ii-isli sleci 
 hamrock i 
 
 -+--•- ly ' -•- 
 
 Another Clare is here to lead, 
 TIio wortliy son of such a brued ; 
 The I'lvnch ex()ect some famous ileed, 
 
 When Clare leails on lii.s lioltl Dragoons. 
 Our colonel corner fnnn Brian's nice. 
 Ills wonniL? are in his breast anil face. 
 The beuma baoghiiH* is still his place, 
 
 The foremost of his bold Dragoons. 
 
 CIIORL'3. 
 
 Viva la the New Biig.ide I 
 
 Viva la the Old Ono, too ! 
 Viva la the rose shall fade, 
 
 And the Shamrock shine for ever new ! 
 
 There's not a man in .sf(uadron hero 
 AVas ever ktiown to flinch or fear ; 
 Tlifiugh first in charge and last in rerc, 
 
 Have ever been Lord Clare's Dragoons ; 
 But, see ! we'll soon have work to do. 
 To shame our boasts, or prove them true, 
 For hither comes the English crew. 
 
 To sweep away Lord Clare's Dragcona. 
 
 CIIOIIUS. 
 
 Viva la for Ireland's wrong ! 
 
 Viva la for Ireland's right ! 
 Viva la in battled throng. 
 
 For a Spanish steed and sabre bright ! 
 
 • 'I'll.- i:aji lit llnngor. 
 
 Oh I roiprades (hink how Indnnd pines, 
 Her exiled lords, her rifled shrines, 
 Her dearest hope, the ordered lines. 
 
 And bursting charge of Clare's Dragoon.S. 
 Tlieii fling your Green Flag to the sky. 
 Be Limerick j'our battle-cry. 
 And charge, till bhuid floats fetlock-high, 
 Around the track of Clare's Dragoons. 
 
 ciioin;s. 
 Viva la the New Brigade ! 
 
 ^'iva,la tlie Old One, too! 
 Viva la the rose shall fade. 
 
 And the Shamrock shine for ever new ! 
 
VOLUME I— NUMBER i^- ] 
 
 BOSTON, SATURDAY, MAY 8 1858. 
 
 [ PRICE FOUR CICNTS. 
 
 TH£ RIVER SHANNON. 
 
 Wo fxtrai^r. the (bllowini; f.ic-ts ixhiiive to iliis livcr 
 fio:n a puiiiplilct puhlisljeil In- C. W. Williams, Ks(|. 
 It demonstrates what might be done Uy improvcmtnts 
 in Inland. 
 
 'The river Shannon, unequalled in" the British em- 
 pire, emiiraecs 234 miles of continuous niivi;,a'ion; 
 and from the circumstance of its runniufj tliroiit;li ilie 
 centre of the kingdom, m:iy be compan-d, for the )mr- 
 poscs of inteicoiirsp, to double that length of coast. 
 The advantages of water convc_v::nce are thus )ivc- 
 scntcd to an extent of cottntry equal to tlie whole line 
 of eoast between BeU'ist and Cork; or to more than 
 the entire eastern coast of Knglaiid. 
 
 'The great feature of this i xtraordinary river is its 
 diversified character. For a distance of GO miles from 
 the sea to the city of Llmerii k, it presenis a mngnifi- 
 cent estuary and tide way. without bar or other im- 
 pediment whatever, and wiili a Hood equal to a litigbt 
 
 f twcniy feet at the ciiy quays. This p;irt of the 
 iver possesses .several deep bays or inlets, r-nd vc- 
 oives the waters of scvertd ri\eis, snm< of w icb mi- 
 joy the liile-way for a ron^iderHbb■ distance up ill' ir 
 I'hai.n Is, and all susctptibl- of f;rfat innjroNcmi i t 
 15;. these, the bem fit cf Nv, Iter ennv, ^ siice may he ex- 
 t iidcd to m iry lising lowns, uiid to extensive, i ich, 
 |iii|.iilous, i.nd, r.e luiiy add, ili-iurl e-l disnirts. 
 
 "Vhr gicit e-iuni-y of the Ferjjus, ixm n' in^' 10 miles 
 10 llie town of Clare, with ih niiaiis of ex ■ nfimi ;o 
 Emiis. the capiNil c.f 'he c lUiiiy of Cian , lieie pushes 
 ibe beiietit of mivignion into the eeiilrc of a di^iri' t 
 unrivalled, perhajis, in Britain, for depth and fertility 
 of soil. 
 
 'Aliovc Limtriik to Ki'biloe the navigation is vaiied, 
 being |)Mri still water and part liier. 
 
 'From Kilbioe in the roiinty of CI. ire, to its sourse 
 in tile eoiir.iy of Leiliini, the i'i\er assumes a ;:rcfit 
 variety of chiiacter. In some places it sticielies out 
 
 into SI as. 1)1 lakes two* of which Ij"Ugh D'Tg and 
 I.on;;h Uea are iliove 211 Biiisli mile- h.ng each. In 
 otiier piirts ilic 'ivir as^ill i';iies i se.f more to iliai of 
 tlu'ii\(r nit\ gations of Ki gland, with the cimbmcd 
 ad\'aiif!igrs ot .-iiili *ir ai d -ruciiing, as S"en 'n llie 
 ThHin'-s, il'c Mm-iv, and the Severn. In iiiher parts, 
 i- fi'-ii s 1 Mi.-c. s on nfsiniill {>k''s p'>rii!i:irh in want 
 of an.lici 1 In l|is, wliii b. however, the use of steam 
 n:ivij;:tion wnu'd ri'iiipUtelv overcdine; and, lastly, in 
 iniiiiv viiue.tiuiis, it apjiroj'chfs almost to still-water 
 navi^jiiti .n. The fdls and rapid.J, which on the wlinlc 
 river amount to an elivatiun i.f 146 feet 10 inches, a;'C 
 ov, re line l.y l.iieral cai.als i nd locks. Tiinmgliout 
 its course, however, it possesses the rare qiuility of 
 b.ivin;; a suf^cicnt depth of waii-r for all the purposes 
 of internal intercouse. From this diversi'y if cbaisic- 
 ter, it is inaT;if SI ho-.v nitich i:s navi iitioii is o]pcii M 
 impi-ovenients bv tlie nniovid of dilliful i"S end nb- 
 -truetiou-: — the adding trackw.iys; cotistrucling small 
 
 THE «ILVNN >:<, i''ll().M TiiK TOW H (U I IM IvI v ( Villi I 1 \.i 
 
191 
 
 IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 hnrl>or«, q 
 
 u.v, ami h,ndinK.rl«ce,, «nd m«king «p- 1 dant crop, of l.ny, yd in o.l.cr and ens. y app.oacl.od 
 proacl... r.hc""n.e; wid ',U- and n.isioK arches o. I pa,-«. and h. ...any .owu. o.. .U. bank., Lay .» ex- 
 Ld..«<- citablishinK beacons and other prnidc. to aid ircn.ely searec and dear. 
 
 1„ n viltor .ro..'h the intricacy and winding, ..r its -Of the r.el«im«ble hog., ca lows, and n^arsh-hrndx 
 Sin f ml in «:..o.., when the water extends ho- | it I, nnnece,,ary to say ,nore than that .n no part of 
 vodi natural conrse;-the cutting the hanks and 1 Irc.h.nd are they more ex.ens.re, or more w„h,n the 
 rlung many parts, and, on the whole, a.Vording ; reach of human means for ..nprovement. Ihe ev.- 
 S n'oppor Lfities for the applieatiot. of human dence of Mr. MuUins before the eomn.,ttce, and the 
 
 skill and judgment. 
 
 •In all these respects, notwithstanding the snms 
 which have been expended on it during U.o last cen- 1 
 tury, the Shannon, with suih unciucstionahlo latent 
 resources, presents a lamentable picture of great ne- 
 glect—great misapplication of power— great ignorance 
 of its resources— great want of enterprise, and even 
 •worldly wisdom, on the part of its natnral protectors 
 and patrons, the ow.iers of the towns a.id villages and 
 the soil, in its vicinity, and throughout its entire 
 
 course. 
 
 'The Shannon washes the shores often counties oni 
 of 32, viz., Lcitri.n, Roscommon, Longford, West- 
 TOcati.', King's-County, Galway, Tipperary, Clare, 
 Limerick and Kerry. All of these arc abundant in 
 I,oi>ulation, and susceptible of receiving great exten- 
 sion and improvement in their agriculture; and al- 
 though many of them are periodically exposed to the 
 grcarest distress, and even famine, yet arc without the 
 power of mutual relief or coope.ation. 
 
 'Taking then the double length of coast which the 
 ten counties present to the navigation, at 500 miles; 
 and, which, considering the extent of the bays, inlets, 
 and'iivcrs, is under the fact; it leaves an average of 
 50 miles ot coast to each county. This fact alone is 
 sumeiently indicative of what may be done through the 
 instrumentality of this one river. 
 
 'Running fro.n north to south, the several counties 
 on the Shannon naturally present great diversity of 
 soil, and even clitnate. Some of the counties are 
 mountainous, with deep, product! ve vallics, on which 
 may be cheaply fed vast ijuantitics of sheep and cattle. 
 Other counties arc flat and humid, yet susceptible of 
 great amelioration from the labor of their population, 
 under the guidance of skill and capital. Several with 
 soils on a substratum of limestone, are in all seasons 
 warm and dry, and peculiarly adapted to the produc- 
 tion of the finest qualities of grain and other pro- 
 duce; while some to the southward, possess deep and 
 tenacious soils, requiring strong manures and much 
 laboring. 
 
 'Under such circumstances it is evident that the sev- 
 eral parts of this great territory must be variously af- 
 fected by the seasons. Wet seasons are beneficial to 
 Bomc. and almost ruinous to others. Some are abun- 
 dant in seasons in drought, which bring scarcity and 
 even famine to others. Some divisions of counties on 
 the Shannon are well adapted for descriptions of pro- 
 duce which are unattainable in others. Some excel 
 in wheat and potatoes; others in barley, oats, and 
 rape; while their neighbors' are better adapted to pas. 
 turage. 
 
 •Natural manures also, those essentials in agricultu- 
 ral districts, are not only excellent, but equal to any 
 demand throughout a great portion of the river, yet 
 unknown in the rest. The black and white marls of 
 the Shannon, which are easily raised, and accessible 
 and free to all, are among the most bountiful gifts of 
 Nature to this extraordinary coantry. 
 
 'Again, turf, that prime necessary of life in Ireland, 
 is abundant in the greater number of districts on the 
 Shannon, yet deficient or inferior in quality in many. 
 Building materials, as stone, sand, '.Ime, flags, bricks, 
 slates and n.arbic, are cheap and abundant in many, 
 ■while frc(iuenily the adjoining counties are wholly 
 without them. 
 
 'The bogs on both sides of the Shannon contiguous 
 to the line of llie grand canals between Balinasloe and 
 Tnllamore, may be noticed as illustrative of their im- 
 provable value. There, bog-land, originally of no 
 value, now lets freely at 303. an acre. In many parts 
 of the Shannon, and over districts of from five to ten 
 miles long, the deep rich callows, annually submerged 
 by the rising waters of the Shannon, produce abun- 
 
 plunder, but lie lost his life, and was buried at A r 
 inngh. 
 
 llfiO. Torlog O'Brien marched at the head of an 
 army to Dublin, und the Danes submitted to him 
 as their king. He gave them twelve cows as a re- 
 ward for their services. 
 
 11.5G. Dermod Mac Morogh, king of Lcinster, the 
 
 Dimes of Dublin, and Donchad, hon of Donall 
 
 report of Mr. Granthan in his survey of the Shannon, j O'Mclnghlin, plundered East Menth, carrying off 
 
 are co.iclusiTc en this head. both lay and ecclesiastical property ; they drove off 
 
 •In a country iken so extensive, so variable in soil | cows of Ardbraccan, Slonc, Kiltalton, Donaglipat- 
 
 and dhnale, so various in produce and natural pro 
 
 ducts, can ihcit) be a quosliuu of the inipor'uncc of in- 
 terchange, particularly for balky coinmoilities? It is 
 not an unnaiural state of things that in SHch a country, 
 and with such a river flowing through its centre, some 
 districts, should bo in want, not merely of comforts 
 and conveniences, but of the common necessaries of 
 life, food and fuel, and almost approaching to famine; 
 while adjoining districts on the same river have them 
 in abuncliUKC and to spared 
 
 'How then can we convey to English eyes the pic- 
 ture of the Shannon through its great course. Let us 
 suppose a navigable rive.-, taking its rise in some dis- 
 tant county in England as far from Liverpool as Essex 
 or Middlesex. Suppose it occasionally spreading it- 
 salf into noble and picturesque sheets of water, of more 
 than 20 miles in length, with numerous islands, receiv- 
 ing the waters of many rivers, and stretching its bays 
 into the adjacent counties, as it were to increase the 
 measure of its utility and beauty. See it winding its 
 wav through Hertfordshire and Bedfordshire, North- 
 amptonshire and Warwickshire, and the ricli soil of 
 Leicestershire, and after passing by Staffordshire, 
 Derbyshire, and Cheshire, falling into the estuary of 
 the Mersey, in Lancashire. See it presenting to each 
 of these counties the benefit of 50 miles of navigation, 
 and we shall have a correct view of the extent and ca- 
 pabilities of this river. 
 
 'But how .shall we describe the state in which it has 
 i-emaincd for ages as to trading intercourse, and in 
 which one half of it remains to this very hour abso- 
 lutely wanting in all the incidents of navigation. For 
 nearly 100 miles of its length, not a sail or boat is to 
 be met with on its waters. No appearance of utility: 
 no indicitions of industry or capital, even its beauties 
 unknown. Deficient to an extent scarcely credible in 
 roads and approaches to it, and consequently having 
 but little conneciion with the interior, where Nature 
 designed its influence should extend. Without any 
 employment of its waters, it flows unheeded by, and 
 unproductive of any good. Over many of its dis- 
 tricts of great extent, from the absence of that control 
 which human skill and means could have efl'ected, its 
 waters have become a source of wide-spreading waste.' 
 
 ANNALS CF DUBLIN. 
 
 [Continued.] 
 Translated from the Autograph of the Four Masters 
 
 in the Library of the Koyal Irish Academy. 
 
 1137. Dtrmod Mac Morogh, king of Lcinster, and 
 Connor O'Brien, lord of the Dalcassians, together 
 with the Danes of Dublin and Wexford, with two 
 hundred ships' besieged Waterford. 
 
 IIJO. The Danes, of Dublin were defeated by the 
 Danes of Waterford, and the grandson of Tomar 
 was killed. 
 
 nil. Connor O'Brien marched to Dublin, and 
 the Danes submitted to him to be their king. 
 
 1112. Oitter, one of the Danes of the Orkney 
 Isles took Kells and Dublin. 
 
 IIIG. The inhabitants of East Meath slaughtered 
 the Danes of Dublin ; two hundred Danes were 
 killed, together with Reginald, high steward of 
 Dublin, and many other Danish nobles. 
 
 1149. The Danes of Dublin and the Lagenians, 
 under the command of Dermod il'Morogh, their 
 king, plundered Duleck. Dermod, the son of Mag- 
 nus" O'Loughlin, pursued them to revenge that 
 
 rick, and most of tke cattle of thi- whole country. 
 lloT. OrcBC was bishop of Dublin. 
 1103. GrcBC, nmhbinhop of the Danes and of 
 Leinster, a leiir«c«l sage, skilleel in many languages, 
 died ; and Laurence O'Toole, comarba of St. Kevin, 
 was appointed in his place by the comarba of St{ 
 Patrick. 
 
 Mortogh O'Loughlin, having assembled the North 
 of Ireland and the men of Mcath, marched, together 
 with a battallion of the Oonnacians, to Dublin, to 
 besiege the Danes. O'Loughlin returned hack with- 
 out b.'ittlc or hostages, after having plundered Fin- 
 gall ; he left the Lagenians and Methians in war 
 with the Danes. A peace was afterwards conclud- 
 ed between the Danes and the Irish, the former pay- 
 ing HO ounces of gold to O'Loughlin. 
 
 1160. Roderick O'Conor was, with great pomp 
 and splendor, proclaimed king in Dublin. 
 
 1167. A great meeting was called this year, by 
 Roderick O'Conor, at Athboy of Tlactga : to it went 
 the nobles of Leth Chuin, both clergy and laity, and 
 the nobles of the Danes of Dublin ; thither went the 
 comarba of St. Patrick, Cadhla, O'DuH'ay, archbish- 
 op of Connaught, Laurence O'Toole, archbishop of 
 Leinster, Tieman O'Rourke, lord of Brcfny, Don- 
 chad O'CarroU, lord of Oriel, and the son of Dun- 
 slevy O'llcochadha, king of Ulidia, Dcnnod O'Mc- 
 laghlin, king of Tcnior, and Reginald, lord of the 
 Danes of Dublin. The whole amounted to 13,000 
 horsemen. 
 
 G,000 Connaughtmen. 
 4,000 with O'Rourke. 
 2,000 with O'Mclaghlin. 
 4,000 with O'Canol and O'llcochadha. 
 2,000 with Donchad, the son of Faelaii, and 
 1,000 of the Danes of Dublin. 
 At this assembly many good laws were enacted. 
 
 1170. The Danes of Dublin were treacherously 
 slaughtered in their own garrison by M'Morogh, 
 and the English, and they cairied away their cattle 
 and their riches. Asgall the son of Reginald, king 
 of the Danes of Dublin, fled from them. 
 
 1171. A battle was fought at Dublin, between 
 Miles de Cogan .md Asgall, son of Reginald, king 
 of the Danes of Dublin; many fell on both sides, 
 both of the English archers and of the Danes, among 
 whom was Asgall himself, and lloan, a Dane from 
 the Orkney Isles. 
 
 Roderick O'Conor, Ticrnan O'Rourke, and Mur- 
 chad O'CaiToU marched with an army to Dublin, 
 to besiege the city, then in the possession of the Earl 
 Strongbow and Miles de Cogan. They remained 
 there for a fortnight, during which time many fierce 
 engagements took place between them. 
 
 O'Conor, after that, marches against Leinster, ac- 
 companied by the men of Brefny and Oriel, and 
 they commenced to carry away and burn the com of 
 the English. While Roderick was thus engaged, 
 Strongbow and Miles de Cogan attacked the fast- 
 nesses of the north of Ireland. 
 
 So far the Annals of Dublin until the Invasion. 
 
 1171. Tieman O'Rourke marched a second time 
 to Dublin at the head of the men of Brefny and 
 Oriel, and engaged with Miles de Cogan and his 
 knights; but he was defeated, -n-ith the loss of his 
 son Hugh, Tanist of Brefny. The grandson of Der- 
 mod O'Quin and many others fell also in this bat- 
 tle. 
 
 1172. Tieman O'Rourke, lord of Brefiiy and Con- 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 195 
 
 maicuc, a very powerful chieftain, was very treach- 
 erously slain at TlactKa, by IIuj?o de Lacy, assisted 
 by Donall the son of .Viiuadh O'llourke, one of his 
 own tribe, he was beheaded, and his head and body 
 were carried to Dublin. The licad was placed over 
 the door of the castle, a spectacle of pity and grief 
 to the Irish, ("n a s'gath dearce-thruagh do Ghaod- 
 lialaibh,) and the body was gibbetted with the feet 
 upwards at the northern extremity of the city. 
 
 117-t. Mulroney O'Kierdha, lord of Carbry, was 
 treacherously slain by Mac Tumin of Dublin, assist- 
 ed by the son of Hugh O'Ferrall, and by Kcllach 
 O'Finnellan, lord of Delvinniore. The Earl Strong- 
 bow marched the forces to plunder Mujister, and 
 Roderick O'Conner, king of Connaught, hastened 
 to make resistance. When the English had intelli- 
 ■ gence of Roderick's approach to give them battle, 
 they in^•itcd the foreigners of Dublin to their assist- 
 ance, who with all possible speed marched to Thurles 
 ■where they were met by Donall O'Brien at the head 
 of the Daleassian, by a battallion from West Con- 
 naught, and by a numerous and select army of the 
 Claii-murry under Roderick. A furious engage- 
 ment ensued, in which the English were at last de- 
 feated. Li this battle 1700 of the English were left 
 dead on the plain, and only a few of them survived, 
 who fled with the Earl to his house in Waterford. 
 
 1175, Magnus O'Melaghlin, lord of East Meath, 
 was treacherously taken by the English, and hanged 
 by them at Trim. 
 
 1170. The English Earl, Richard, died of a run- 
 ning sore (Bainne aillsi) which broke out in his foot. 
 This was attributed to the miracles of St. Brigit and 
 Columbkille, and of the other saints whose churches 
 he had plundered, and he was heard to say that he 
 saw St, Brigit killing him. 
 
 1177. Cardinal Vivianus came to Ireland, and 
 convened a synod of the Irish Bishops and Abbots 
 at Dublin, on the first Sunday in Lent, in which 
 they enacted many ecclesiastical regulations. 
 
 117S. John de Courcey made an incursion into 
 Dalaradia* to plunder it, but he was opposed by 
 O'Flinn, chief of Hy-Tuirtre and Firlee.f John and 
 his English were defeated with great slaughter, but 
 he himself escaped and arrived in Duolin covered 
 with wounds. 
 
 In the same year the English constable of Dublin 
 and Meath, marched with his troops to Clonmac- 
 noise, and plundered all the town accept the church- 
 es and the house of the Bishop. 
 
 IISO. Laurence O'Toole, Archbishop of Dublin 
 and of Leinster, was martyred. 
 
 1181. John, the son of King Henry the second of 
 England, came to Ireland with sixty ships to con- 
 quer the kingdom. He conquered Dublin and Lein- 
 ster, and erected a castle at Tiprait Fichtna and 
 Ardfinan, out of which he sent parties to plunder 
 Munster, but his people were defeated with great 
 slaughter by Donall O'Brien. 
 
 John soon after returned to England, to complain 
 to his father of Hugo de Lacy, who was then the 
 most powerful man iji Ireland, under the King of 
 England. 
 
 1193. Hugh O'Maolbrennan, chief of Clann-Con- 
 chuhhair, was slain by the Englisli of Dublin. 
 
 1209. The King of England handed at Dublin 
 with 100 ships, and rested there for some time after 
 his voyage ; he then set out for Tibraid ultain in 
 Meath, where Charles the red-handed (J'Conor sub- 
 mitted to him. The King made Walter de Lacy 
 fly into England, and also jjroceeded to Carriek- 
 fergus, whence he expelled Hugo de Lacy into Eng- 
 land. 
 
 A great war arose botwcen the king of England 
 and the Welsh, and ambassadors came to Ireland 
 
 * Dalaradia extended from Ncwry to Sliabh Mis (Slcm- 
 iflli) in the •ounty of Antrim. 
 
 t Kirlce is in the Tripartite Lite of .St. I'alrick. called 
 Lcacorum tinea; it was situated west, nut east of tlie river 
 Itann. 
 
 for the English bishop and nobility, who were then 
 in this country. 
 
 1227. The English of Ireland assembled in Dub- 
 lin, and invited Hugh, the son of Charles the red- 
 handed O'Conor, king of Connaught, to a consul- 
 tation i after his arrival they treacherously made 
 him prisoner ; but William Mareschal, his friend, 
 arrived with his troops, and rescued him in despite 
 of the English, out of the middle of the court-house, 
 and conveyed him safely to Connaught. 
 
 J. O'DONOVAN. 
 
 [To be continued.] 
 
 THE STILL-HOUSE. 
 
 'Art thou a mourner? Hast thou known 
 Tliejoyoi innocent d«iitjlits? 
 Kndeuriug days foi-ev»r liown, 
 
 And tranqail niglits! 
 O live! and deeply cherish still 
 The sweet rcmeinljrftn«e of tlie past; 
 Kely ou heaven's un«Iiauginpf will 
 
 For peace at last.' 
 
 Montgomery. 
 
 ' Mick, dear, I wish to God you wouldn't go out 
 the night,' said the youjig ahd handsome Ellen 
 Cooper to her husband, one evening, as they sat by 
 the Sre. 
 
 'Why so ?' he demanded. 
 
 ' I don't know,' she returned ; ' there is some- 
 thing on my mind like a load that I can't shake off. 
 
 ' Hooh ! nonsense, Ellen ; sure I'll send Molly 
 Horan over to sleep in the corner.' 
 
 ' I'm not afcard,' Mick ; I know God is strong, 
 an' I never seen anything worse than myself ; but 
 there's something over me very weighty.' 
 
 After a few moment's pause, Michael replied, 
 ' Ellen, dear, I'd willingly stay if I could, but you 
 know I promised to help my cousin Peter; you 
 wouldn't want me to be worse than my word.' 
 
 ' I'd be sorry to do it, Mick ; but any way, this 
 night work is bad. I wish you didn't promise.' 
 
 'There's no help for spilt milk, Ellen, an' sure 
 its no harm for a man to strive to make the best of 
 his crop, and no price for the corn now.' 
 
 ' Sure his no worse off nor another, an' he might 
 be content.' 
 
 ' Maybe if you had five or six childer, you wouldn't 
 take it so quite ' (quiet.) 
 
 ' Its agin the law, an' you'll not say, Mick, that's 
 right." 
 
 ' Its a bad law, Ellen, that keeps a man from mak- 
 ing the best of his crop.' 
 
 ' Tlmt may l»e — I can't say to the contrary ; but, 
 Mick, dear, its the law of the land, an' ought not to 
 be broke.' 
 
 ' Tke ould misthress is eomin out in you there,' 
 said Michael, laughing. ' She didn't know of what 
 shifts poor people is often put to.' 
 
 ' Bhe knew it was wrong to break the law,' re- 
 plied Ellen. 
 
 ' But sure it's no sin to trick a guager, Ellen. 
 The misthress was a good woman, b«t she couldn't 
 know every thing.' 
 
 ' She knew what was right and what was wrong, 
 an' we'd not go astray if we minded her bidding,' 
 said Ellen, gravely. 
 
 ' Well, Ellen, aeushla, we'll mind it agin ; I can't 
 help it this turn ; the time is come I must be goin, 
 benaght lahth (blessing be with you.) I'll send 
 Molly over;' and taking a tender leave of his wife, 
 the young man hurried out of the house. 
 
 Ellen had been brought up about an old lady who 
 resided near the liouse of herparents, and was there- 
 fore, superior in education andmanner to most girls 
 in her station. On the death of her mistress, she 
 was possessed of a few pounds, and having been, 
 for some time, attached to Michael Cooper, they were 
 married. Michael was far inferior to his wife in 
 point of information. He rented a snug cabin, with 
 a few acres of land j but a handsome face and good 
 humor were much greater recommendations in the 
 eyes of an inexperienced girl, and after nearly a 
 year's trial, she did not repent her choice. Xhey 
 
 were seldom separated, until he was, a short time 
 previous to this period led to assist some of his 
 friends in the process of illicit distillation, and his 
 wife's remonstrances were generally silenced in the 
 manner above related. 
 
 'The blessin of God about all here," said Molly 
 Horan, on raising the latch of the door, soon after 
 Michael's departure. 
 
 Ellen was sitting where he had left her; one hand 
 supporting her head, and traces of tears were visi- 
 ble on the long dark lashes that shaded her brilliant 
 eyes. She started on hearing the woman's voice, 
 ond endeavored to appear cheerful ; but Molly was 
 not so easily imposed on. 
 
 ' Sure, alanna,' she said, ' ye needn't let throuble 
 come near ye ; the masther (the mother of God save 
 'im) wont be long out.' 
 
 ' I hope not,' was Ellen's reply. 
 
 ' Asy, dear ; ye'U not be so bad out here, if the 
 man goes out awhile,' said Molly, with a laugh. 
 Then sinking her voice to a kind of confidential 
 murmur, added, ' sure, dear, ye couldn't think a 
 man id be always in the corner fomenst his wife.' 
 
 ' I wouldn't wish it, Molly." 
 
 'Faix a hagar, it'd be queer — many's the place a 
 man must go from daylight tal night.' 
 
 ' I don't care a pin, only for the place he's gone 
 to, Molly.' 
 
 ' An' sure, avoumoen, he's as well there as in his 
 own dacent house (God bless it,) an" lashins ol fun 
 he'll have wi' the boys. Louersha bene, but a 
 still-house is the pleasant place.' 
 
 ' But, Molly, it is not right to be going against 
 the law.' 
 
 Molly had, on entering, seated herself in the chim- 
 ney corner, her knees nearly touching her chin, 
 charged her dudeen (short pipe,) and was puffing 
 away with great perseverance ; she now took it 
 from her mouth, and giving EUen a look of unquali- 
 fied amazement, exclaimed. ' Chrish chriestha er 
 in, agin the law ! Well, but that bates Banagher 
 any way ! Sure it's no sin to make a dhrop of pot- 
 teen. Och hone! God forbid! there's plenty on 
 our poor sowls widout that.' 
 
 It was in vain that Ellen endeavored to explain 
 that a breach of the law was wrong. Molly's ideas 
 of breaking the law were different — she affiirmed, 
 that ' if a body didn't murder, or rob, or steal, they 
 needn't care for all the polls (police) in the world.' 
 
 Ellen ceased to speak on the subject ; but com- 
 mending her husband to the protection of the Di- 
 vine Being, in whom she firmly trusted, at the usu- 
 al hour went to bed, but not to sleep, thinking every 
 sound was Michael's approach, until the light of a 
 spring morning shone through her chamber ; then, 
 overcome by watching, she sank into an uneasy 
 slumber. 
 
 After having dispatched Molly Horan to his wife, 
 Michael pursued his way to the still-house. He 
 was sincerely attached to Ellen, but thought her 
 opinions of the law too strict ; yet, though delight- 
 ing in the scenes that usually go forward at those 
 places, he would have staid at home to gratify her, 
 were it not for the promise he had given his cousin, 
 and that his assistance was necessary on that night; 
 but he determined that this was the last time he 
 would go to such a place. While immersed in these 
 reflections, he arrved at the water's edge ; the still- 
 house was situated on an island not far from the 
 shore of a large lake, nearly surrounded by moun- 
 tains. Michael put his fingers in his mouth, and 
 whistling loudly, was presently answered by a cor- 
 responding whistle ; he replied ; and a boat put off 
 from the island, but so cautiously that the dash of 
 the oars could scarcely be heard even when close to 
 the shore. In a low voice ho made himself known, 
 and then entering the frail bark, was ferried over in 
 profound silence. 
 
 The fresh night breeae was inpregnated by the ef- 
 fluvia of fermenting grains that were strewed around 
 
196 
 
 IRISn MISCELLANY. 
 
 Die still-houso, a mUcmbIc cnbin with scnrccly any | wcro ciilcring, oiio of tliuni was kiio< kcd on tlio licnd 
 wliicli, oil that night, ii number of by bonic person near llio door; lie fell and never epokc 
 
 'J'liis so enraged his comrades, that a general 
 ninssnero would have followed, had not llio olliccr 
 
 covering, and in 
 
 pereon* were eongrcgnted, as the spirits were to be I again 
 
 conveyed to tlic main land before tho morning 
 
 light. 
 
 The murky glare of a large turf fire threw an un- 
 cartlily sliadc on the countenances of the men who 
 were, some standing, some bitting, and others re- 
 cumbent around it, most of them in that state of 
 inebriation denominated half-seas-over, one party 
 smoking, another with a pack of cards so much 
 soiled as made it lUlIieult to distinguish spades from 
 diamonds, or clubs from hearts, playing at ' five and 
 ten," on their knees ; while a third set were attend- 
 ing to the process of distillation. 
 
 Michael made ample mnends for the silence of 
 the boatmen, by the universal roar of ' Ccadc mille 
 phaultha ' that burst forth on his entrance. 
 ' An' what kep ye so long ?' cried one. 
 « Och ! what knowledge ye want | sure his wife 
 couldn't part 'im yc fool,' cried another. 
 
 ' It's Imppy fur them has a purty wife,' said a 
 third. 
 
 ' Let t'yer bother ! roared an old man, who was 
 busied about the mill. ' Jlick, boy, come here and 
 take this ; it'll keep the eowld afl'ycr heart ; there's 
 a hard win (wind) on the lough the night ;' and he 
 filled a large vessel with the warm liquid, first put- 
 ting it to liis own lips, adding, ' Here's confusion to 
 all guagers and polls !' 
 
 'Amin!' was tho general response, while Michael 
 drank off a good part of the contents, then reached the 
 vessel to another, who finished it, and, with a hearty 
 smack, declared it was mild as new milk. 
 
 During the next two hours, the vessel was frequently 
 replenished, and the scene of blasphemy and ribaldry 
 that accompanied tho carouse was too disgusting for 
 detail. 
 
 Michael was usually a sober man; but the uncontro- 
 verted proposition that 'evil communicution corrupts 
 good manners' was exemplified in him; he was soon 
 in a state, if not of total drunkenness, certainly of care- 
 lessness as to what ho did. 
 
 The hour of midnight had some lime passed over, 
 when one of the elder and more seasoned members of 
 the party exclaimed, 
 
 'Come, come, boys, let t'ye drinking; its time to 
 work; some of the spirits ought to be on land afore 
 this; tho polls might be stirrin, comin on day.' 
 
 'To wid the polls,' rejilicd another; what div 
 
 we care for them! The darnt show their nose. We'd 
 smash tlicir daylight out. Let thcin come now — we're 
 ready.' 
 
 'Asy, a hagar, asy,' said the first, with a sneer; 
 •brag was a good dog; maybe if they were hard by 
 jc'd sing another song. Come boys, its better be sure 
 nor sarry; get some of the vessels to the boat.' 
 
 'Never heed, Thady,' responded the other, 'the 
 guager has more sense nor to come near us. I'd brain 
 the first man that put a loot on the island. Time 
 enough to be goin yef' 
 
 However, the more sober of the party thought Thady 
 was right, and began to remove some kegs to the boat. 
 The first load was safely landed on the opposite shore, 
 and two men remained to carry it away. The boat 
 returned for another freight during a general confus- 
 ion within the still house, some singing, others talk- 
 ing loudly, and another set swearing at them to quit 
 their blather, and mind their own business. In the 
 midst of this babel, a man from the outside rushed ni, 
 exclaiming, in a voice of terror, 
 
 'The polls! the polls! Be all that's lovely, they're 
 abont the house!' 
 
 In an instant there was a dead silence; every one 
 seemed paraly/.ed, and the man who was to have per- 
 
 used all his induenco to prevent it, niul finally the 
 greater i>art of the distillers wcro made prisoners, 
 when daylight appeared, convoyed to the main-land, 
 and from thence to the jail of the county town. 
 
 'Molly! Molly! are you thereV cried Ellen, starting 
 from a disturbed sleep, when tlie morning was far ad- 
 vanced. 
 
 'I'm here, alanna, sure I wouldn't leave yc,' replied 
 Molly, going to the bedside. 
 
 'Is Mick come back? Is it far in tho daj? 
 'Ho didn't como yet, dear; I doubt it's breakfast- 
 time.' 
 
 'Molly, he said he'd be in before day; I dread some- 
 thing happened him.' 
 
 'What makes yo say tliat, aciislda: maybe tlicy 
 couldn't get the liclier (liquor) all to land in time.' 
 
 'There's that over mo I can't shake oil', Molly, I'm 
 sure something happened.' 
 
 'Lord betunc us an' harm! Don't say tho likes of 
 that dear; sure God is strong.' 
 
 'I know it, Molly, an' my dependence is on Him; 
 only for that, what 1 feel now would kill me. Och! I 
 with Mick would be said by me, an' not go any more 
 to the still-house.' 
 
 'Ah, then, dear, while a man is on the world he 
 must be neighborly; and, wid the help of God, sorra 
 hap'orth 'ill happen t'him. Come down, an' take yer 
 breakfast; he'll bo back in no time.' 
 
 'God send!' was Ellen's reply, as she accompanied 
 Molly to the kitchen, and sat down to breaklkst, of 
 which she scarcely tasted a morsel. 
 
 Before the meal was finished, a neighboring woman 
 entered, and seating herself in the corner, after tho 
 usual salutation, began; — 
 
 'Well, any way it's happy for them wasn't on the 
 island last night.' 
 
 'What happened!' inquired Ellen, scarcely able to 
 articulate. 
 
 'Is id what happened?' continued the woman; 'an' is 
 that all ye know of id? Sure myself thought that 
 every one heard id be this.' 
 
 'Tell me — tell me at once,' exclaimed Ellen, while 
 she trembled exceedingly and became pale as death. 
 
 'AVhat's over her?" said the woman, appealing to 
 Molly. 
 
 'She's all through-other.' 
 
 'For the love of God, tell me what you know, and 
 don't kill me out,' cried Ellen. 
 
 'They say,' replied the woman, 'that the guager an' 
 the polls cum on them in the still-house last night; 
 there was three men kilt, an' the polls tuk an' put them 
 all in the jail the day,' 
 
 She had scarcely uttered the last word, when Ellen 
 fell to the ground in a state of insensibility, and Molly, 
 clapping her hands, set up the Irish cry. 
 
 'Sanwell dlie er in!' exclaimed the woman, 'what's 
 over ye's all !' 
 
 But she gained no information from JloUy, who 
 continued to clap her hands, and cry, 
 
 'Wirra strua! wirra strua! God look down on ye, 
 poor sowl, lying there!' 
 
 'Faix, its very i|uarc,' said the other. 'Any way, 
 Molly, wc ought to rise her up, afeard she die on't.' 
 
 'True for ye, Shusy, sorra one of me knows what 
 I'm doin. The mother of God help her this day!' 
 
 And while cndeavorin!; to restore animation, they 
 still continued to talk. 
 
 'A-thcn, Jlolly, dear, what's over her at all that 
 makes her this way?' 
 
 'Musha, then, share ids no wonder, Shusy, and 
 Jlick Cooper to be in the slUl-housc last night, an' six 
 
 formed such feats a short time previous, slunk into a kilt.' 
 
 corner behind some sacks. However, the eonsterna- i 'Ids three I toul yc, Molly; — an' ye say Mick was 
 
 tion w.is but momcntarj-; it was determined to resist; makin' a drop of poteen?' 
 
 the door was made fast with sacks, and whatever they 'I didn't say no 6i<h a thing; but n body might go 
 
 could heap against it. But the assailing party were to give a hand to a friend. I dread poor Mick's gone 
 
 too strong; the house was furccd, and, as tlic police to jail, or he'd be home. ifore this.' 
 
 No doubt of it, Molly; every individual, only two 
 or three that run away, was tuk up.' 
 
 'An' them that's kilt,' said Molly; 'sure there's no 
 good to luke them.' 
 
 'Wirra, wirra! what news yc tell ns!' re])lied Shusy. 
 'No doubt the corner (coroner) 'ill sit on ilicm tho 
 day, an' we'll hear all abont id.' 
 
 In some time, poor Ellen revived, and notwithstand- 
 ing all tlie womcn't efi'orls, to dissuade her, set out 
 to learn the fate of her hiisliaml; and Molly, whoso 
 curiosity was aroused to the highest pitch, accompa- 
 nied her. 
 
 They then learned the true state of the case, which 
 was even more terrible to the alllictcd wife than her 
 worst fears had anticipated. 
 
 The policeman was killed, and one of his compan- 
 ions swore positively that Michael Cooper gave tho 
 blows that deprived him of life. lie was, therelore, to 
 be tried for the murder at the ensuing assi/.es. How- 
 ever, as Cooper solemnly afiirmtd he had not any 
 missile in his hand, nor was he near the door at iho 
 time tho blows were given, which some of the men 
 conid corroborate, his friends entertained sanguiuo 
 hopes of his aciiuittal; and jioor Ellen, though suli'er- 
 ing great auxicty, at times felt a hope tliat all would 
 end well. 
 
 The lady by whom she had been brought up had 
 early instilled the duty of submission to the Divine 
 will; and though in this instance the trial was a severe 
 one, yet the good seed produced some fruit, and sho 
 was enabled to bear with a degree of fortitude which 
 excited ^lolly's admiration, who used to say to her 
 cronies, that 'sorra one of her ever seen the peel 
 (equal) of Mick Cooper's wife for a fine sodger (sold- 
 ier,) an has sich dependence out of God; sure she 
 ought to win.' 
 
 In a short time after the murder tho trial came on, 
 and the event showed the futility of human hopes. 
 The ])rosecution was sustained with great pertinacity; 
 the witness repeatedly swearing that he could not pos- 
 sibly be mistaken as to the identity of the prisoner. 
 
 Poor Michael's appearance and manner interested 
 a orowded audience ; and, therefore, when after a 
 considerable iutci-val, the verdict guilty was return- 
 ed, a general murmur of compassion ran through 
 the court, which was succeeded by a breathless si- 
 lence, while the awful sentence of death and dissec- 
 tion was pronounced by the Judge with a faltering 
 tongue and glistening eye. Then a shriek so heart- 
 rending burst forth from under the dock as appall- 
 ed the stoutest, and added to the general sympa- 
 thy. 
 
 It was poor Ellen ; she had, with a strong effort, 
 controlled her feelings until the termijiation of her 
 earthly hopes ; then her anguish became too great 
 for cndurenec ; with this cry of despair she sank 
 senseless into the arms of the bystanders, and was 
 borne out of court to the house of a friend, where, 
 after a tedious interval, animation returned, which 
 was quickly followed by the birth of a still-bom 
 child ; fever and delirium succeeded, and for a long 
 time the widowed wife and childless mother re- 
 mained on the confines of eternity. 
 
 Michael suffered the exUcme penalty of the law 
 with great linnness ; ho had heard the tale of his 
 wife's sufferings, from which at that jieriod it was 
 hourly expected she would be releasod. He ex- 
 pressed a hope of being reunited to her in a better 
 world, and, to the last, solemnly protested his in- 
 nocence of the crime for which he was about to pay 
 the forfeit — warned his hearers to avoid bad com- 
 pany, saying, though he blessed God he was not 
 guilty of murder ; yet, had he taken his wife's ad- 
 vice, and refrained from going to the still-house, be 
 should not tlien be in that awful situation. 
 
 The last rays of the glorious summer's sun w.is 
 sinking behind the distant mountains, and glowing 
 with mellowed tint cm the ivy-covered walls of a 
 ruined building that stood in the centre of a lonely 
 ' burial gi-ound. No soimd was heard, but the call 
 
HUSH MISCELLANY. 
 
 197 
 
 of the rail from tlie meadows, and the occasional 
 scream of water-fowl that disported on an adjacent 
 sheet of water. 
 
 The path that led from the road to this cemetery, 
 was, on tliis evening, trod by a female, muflled in a 
 largo cloak, she walked with slow step and down- 
 cast eyes, entering the abode of deatli by a breach 
 in the dilapidated wall ; she knelt by a verdant 
 grave, and her lips poured forth a fervent prayer, 
 the subject of %\hich was only known to the hearer 
 of prayer and her own soul ; her bosom heaved, 
 tears coursed each other down a^beautiful but pal- 
 lid face, and throwing herself on the damp grass, 
 she wept long and bitterly. 
 
 A\'hile thus, as it were, holding communion with 
 departed spirits, a man came up, and regarding her 
 for a moment with a look of intense interest, bent 
 down, touched her arm, and said, in a low voice, 
 ' EUen !' She did not appear to notice this appeal ; 
 it was repeated in a more distinct manner, and she 
 replied, ' Och ! let me alone for a minute ; sure I 
 kept up for a long time, an' it'll do me good to be 
 near liim now. Och ! Mick, dear, dear, why did 
 you leave me alone in the world.' 
 
 The man brushed a tear from his eye, and said, in 
 a voice choaked by emotion, 'Ye're not alone, 
 thanks bo to God. Look up, Ellen ; don't ye know 
 me ?' 
 
 This seemed to rouse her ; she started up exclaim- 
 ing, ' Jlick, dear, are you come to take me ?' and 
 would have fallen to the earth had not Michael (for 
 he it was alive and well) caught her in his arms. 
 
 A third person was added to the group ; Molly 
 Horan had followed them ; by her assistance, Ellen 
 was in some time restored to consciousness, and, in 
 a few words, conrinced of the reality of what had 
 the appearance of a supernatural visitation. 
 
 AVhen Michael's body, after undergoing the sen- 
 tence of the law, was taken down, the surgeon of 
 the infirmary, -n-ho had known him a long time, 
 caused the remains to be instantly removed, and 
 used all means to resuscitate it, in which he was 
 beyond his most sanguine hopes, successful ; but as 
 the man's return to life must be kept secret, he had 
 a coffin, well screwed dowii, given to his friands 
 with strict orders not to open it, wliich, as the low- 
 er orders have a dread of seeing a mangled corse, 
 there was no danger of their doing. 
 
 By the unremitting attention of the surgeon, Mi- 
 chael and his wife (though she was ignorant of his 
 existence) began slowly to recover ; and when El- 
 len was strong enough, rhe rejnoved to her own 
 liouse, confident that the disfigured remains of her 
 lamented husband were resting among those of his 
 ancestors. 
 
 On the evening that EUen went to the church- 
 yard, JOchael returned to his house. MoUy Horan, 
 who had continued to reside ■\\ith Ellen, was, on 
 liis appearance, dreadfully terrified ; but, after some 
 time, she recovered her reason. Michael followed 
 liis wife to his supposed grave, and the meeting al- 
 ready related, took place — Molly saying, ' Sure El- 
 lin couldn't but win, she had such great courage 
 ;m' depindence out of God.' 
 
 As Michael could not publicly remain in the 
 country, they soon emigrated to the New World, 
 and there, amid a blooming offspring, enjoy as much 
 liappiness as is the lot of human nature. A\'. 
 
 [The resuscitation of a person who has been cxc- 
 I iited by hanging, or stmgulation, may appear too 
 much out of the ordinary course of things; but 
 tlicre are several instances of such on record, and 
 « h.ave no doubt that oThers have been restored, 
 of which no account, for obvious reasons, have been 
 given.] 
 
 VERSES. 
 
 JTROar THE OliKIVtAN OF HOLTY. 
 
 'Wcr wollte eich niit Grillen pluHei^' 
 Oh! wbo to bitter tbouglita and wasting cares would 
 lieniken, 
 So long as youtli'sbriglit blossoms bloom? 
 Wlio, in the fiui-y halls of youth and hope would darken 
 
 A suTinv brow Ipv shades oC gloom? 
 Joy stiiiiils.'inid siiiiiis, uii.l l.c.k.jus with alluring linger, 
 
 On nil 111" ]j:lllnv;l\slilr ili-L-|..-. .^. 
 And eve-l- :ls u cio—i-iinil liiiMhi. i,i1;;iiin linger, 
 
 She crowns him Willi hrr wn'ulli ni roses. 
 The stream— the niuadow stream— still bubbles ircsh and 
 sprightly; 
 
 Still blusUesall the dell with flowers; 
 The wine— the cUaliced wine— still sheds its purple splen- 
 dor 
 
 On souls that droop in griefs eclipse; 
 And in the rosy glen is stitl as s.weet iind tender 
 
 The kiss from pure alfection's lips; 
 And still, us twilight dies, the mourner's heart rejoices, 
 
 Forgetting pain and even despair, 
 As warbling through the grove the ucver-silent voices 
 
 Of nightingales enchant the air. 
 Oh earth! how fair thou art, while youth is yet in blos- 
 
 IIow bright, how lovely is thy brow! 
 Oh, may this bounding heart he withered in my bosom 
 When I shall love thee less than now. 
 
 About twenty years since I heard a profane jest, and 
 still remember it. How many pious passages of far 
 later date have I forgotten ! It seems my soul is like 
 a llliliy pond, wherein fisli die soon lad frogs live long. 
 
 A TOUR TO CONNAUCHT. 
 
 I.ETTEK III. 
 
 To the Editor of the Dublin Penny Journal: — 
 
 Sir — 1 onght to make some excu'se, sufficient to sat- 
 isfy your readers; for commencing a tour to. Con- 
 nanght;and in the course of five weeks getting no 
 farther than the hill of Cappagh. It is but a poor plea 
 to urge that your undertaker, Terence O'TooIe, has 
 something else to do than indite tours. You can con- 
 sole yourself with this reflection, which I suggest for 
 my own beneiit as well as yours — namely, that during 
 the intervals of my peiformance, you have been able 
 to supply your readers with material far better than I 
 could furnish. 
 
 But to the point. In my last letter I abruptly broke 
 off descending from Cappagh hill towards the Boyno. 
 After haying taken a very proper and ample breakfast 
 at a new inn (I beg the host's pardon — hotel,) that has 
 been established on the spot where the old Nineteen- 
 mile-house inn formerly hung out its sign, we pro- 
 ceeded about a mile, and passing the Canal bridge, 
 observed a fine building erected by the Royal Canal 
 Company as a hotel, but now untenanted, and appa- 
 rently going to ruin. 'How comes it, said the Eng- 
 lishman, 'that your Irish canals are such bad spccula- 
 lations'? They are on a larger scale than almost any 
 we have in England, and yet they seem to have little 
 trade, and to be of scarcely any use in promoting the 
 commerce of the country.' 'Why, sir," said I, 'if I 
 might venture to give an opinion on such a subject, I 
 would say that we began at the end. Trade and com- 
 merce should be found flourishing to a certain extent 
 in a country before canals arc ventured, It seems to 
 me a false speculation to undertake to join the river 
 with that seaport, as, for instance, the Shannon with 
 the city of Dublin, until it is ascertained that there are 
 manufacturing towns, and collieries, and potteries, and 
 a large amount of commercial capital and industry in 
 the country in which a canal might give convenient 
 transit and circulation. Canals may convey, but can 
 never create. In this way the Caledonia canal, one of 
 the greatest undeitakings of modern times, failed. To 
 be sure it was a noble thought to join sea to sea, and 
 use the great glen of Scotland as a ship canal, where- 
 by llie immense circuit of the western coast could be 
 avoided, But it has not answered. There is no trade 
 or transit between Inverness and the western coast of 
 Scotland. I remember John Eitzgibbon, the famous 
 Chancellor of Ireland, prophesying against these 
 canals, that in process of time they would be left 
 empty, and would then aft'ord to the citizens of Didilin 
 a sheltered ride where now the deepest waters roll. 
 But, after all, lie will prove, I trust, a false prophet. 
 The trade is increasing, though slowly, and I trust the 
 passage boats, instead of creeping at their provokingly 
 slow pace, will adopt tlic plan that has succeeded in 
 Scotland on the Forth and Ardrossan canals, where 
 boats of a light construction go at the rate of twelve 
 mile an hour— and what is extriionlinary, the surge 
 caused by this rapidity is not found to be so injurious 
 to t'lo banks as the slow motion of a heavy boat.' 
 
 Wo now arrived at the Boyne — and true it is that 
 when you get to that river, it is about as ugly a stream, 
 if stream it can be called that appears to have no cur- 
 rent, as need bo looked at. You approach it by what 
 remiuds you of desolation — a mansion-house ruined in 
 tlie rebellion of 1798— a place that recalls all the bitter 
 recollections of" that period of 'domestic fury and fell 
 civil strife.' Yes, look at the pot.oto garden on tli8 
 side of the road opposite the wasted mansion house — 
 observe that little mound fenced in with gooseberry 
 bushes — tliere lie in one large grave the remains of 
 hundreds who fell in the attack upon the dwelling 
 house of the Tyrrells — God keep such evil days and 
 bloody days from ever recurring again! The Boyne 
 flows lazily here amidst sedge and reeds — appearing 
 but tlie dark drain of an immense morass — the dis- 
 charge of the waste waters of the Bog of Allen. A 
 strong position in time of war— Lord Wellington 
 knows it well, he has often thrown his soldier eye upon 
 it— his paternal mansion, Dangan, is not far off to the 
 right, near Trim. How different was tlie young fun, 
 loving, comic, quizzing, gallanting Captain Arthur 
 Wellesley, when residing in his shooting lodge be- 
 tween Summerhill and Dangan, from the stern, cau- 
 tious, careworn Fabius of the Peninsular war; the 
 trifling, provoking, capricious sprig of nobilitj', dread- 
 ed by the women, hated by the men, the dry joker, the 
 practical wit, the ne'er-do-well— despaired of, as if 
 good for nothing, by his own family, from the reboubt- 
 able hero of Waterloo— the great prime minister of 
 England— he who achieved a greater moral victory 
 than that of Mont St. Jean, when neutralizing or over- 
 coming pohiical and religious animosities, he set a 
 question at rest that had vexed the world for nearly 
 three centuries. As this is treading on your forbidden 
 ground of politics, I suppose you will use your scissors 
 here, good sir, and cut out the peccant part. By the 
 bye, Dangan itself is altered as much as Arthur Wel- 
 lesley — the one as much for the worse as the other for 
 the better. It was, I remember, a noble mansion, sur- 
 rounded by walls belted in with trees, and altogether 
 befitting a nobleman's residence — but, alas, it passed 
 from the hands of its absentee lord into the possession 
 of as psrfect a specimen of a bad tenant as Ireland, in 
 the whole Iiistory of its rack-rentings can affbrd. The 
 stories are so strange of the methods he resorted to to 
 pay his rent, and of the means lie made use of to raise 
 money out of the smouldering ashes of his burnt castle, 
 that I dare not venture to describe them. I tannot 
 leave this passing notice of this extraordinary and un- 
 happy man, without observing that he, as far as I 
 could learn, had no right to aflix the to his name, 
 lie descended from the O'Connor-Kerry ! ! ! No, sir, 
 his grandfathes, a brewer in the city of Cork, camo 
 from England, and Conyers was his name. The 
 Boyne, then, is not here that lovely picturesque water 
 which it becomes when it sweeps under the wood- 
 crowned banks of Beau-park, winds under the lime- 
 stone cliff's of Slone, washes the castle of the Marquess 
 Conyngliam, or meets the tide 
 
 'At Kewbridge town 
 
 ■\Vliere was a liiinoiis buttle, 
 And .Tames and William staked a crown 
 
 And cannons they did rattle.' 
 But here, though the stream is muddy and ugly, is 
 a very pretty new bridge just erected, but the road 
 goes not over it for a very ridicnlous reason, as I was 
 told by one of our coach companions. The bridge 
 was constructed, and the approach from tlie Dublin 
 side made to it, without ever considering that the pas- 
 sage wliich the new must talce before it reached the 
 old line of road on the Meath side of the river, must 
 pass through a poor free-holder's potatoc ground, and 
 he, when asked how much lie would require in pay- 
 ment for the few perches of garden, replied, with mod- 
 est Milesian self-possession, 'that he \vould not consent 
 to give up the inheritance of his fathers without re- 
 ceiving the sum of £1,200.' 'What, £1,200 for a po- 
 tatoc garden!' '-Inst so,' says Pat, and so the turn- 
 jiike commissioners, (as I was told,) must let the road 
 remain as it did of old, or pay Pat his dem-ind, or ap- 
 ply for an act of parliament to force him into their 
 terms. Our Manchester rider was, on hearing this. 
 
198 
 
 IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 reiuly euoufh lo remark — that licro was an Irish blun- I road, wc arc now travelling, then tending southwards 
 
 (lor. of the hill of CloKhnii, niitil, near rhilijisiown, iiiioiher 
 
 To the right of tlio road, after leaving tho new line of road lalies advantage of its elevation, lo run 
 
 bridge, is seen a fine green moat, the snro evidence in 
 Irvland of the ancient importance of the place. These 
 moats have t;ivcn some (rouble to the nntii|uarians in 
 accounting for their use and origin. Eviilently artifi- 
 cial — they could not bo for defence. Could ihcv be 
 for places of sepulture! They appear too larpo for 
 that purpose; they are generally superior in size to the 
 tumulus or cairn, and besides, are always llat at the 
 top. They appear to mo lo have been constructed for 
 places of assembly, where ihe chief held consultation 
 wiih his sept, where the Brchon decided diH'erences 
 among the people. The very name of moate attests 
 their origin. Amongst the Saxons, the Wittenaga- 
 mote was the name given to their popular assemblies- 
 Tho mote was of the same use with them as tho hof 
 and ting were to the Northmen of the Orkneys and ihe 
 Isle of Man — places of trial and judicial combat, and 
 also, bclore tho introduction of Christianity, of sacri- 
 fices. Beyond the moat, and farther to the right on a 
 awelling bank over the Boyne, is the spot where once 
 stood the Abbey and Cathedral of Clonard — Clunin- 
 iraird — the field of the western height; but not a ves- 
 tige now remains, but a stone baptismal font, of what 
 was once a bishop's see, and the most famous seat of 
 saercd literature and pious study in Ireland. Here 
 St. Finnian, tho most learned of all the successors of 
 St. Patrick, established, in the sixth century, his col- 
 lc;;e, to which three thousand students resorted, not 
 only from all Ireland, but also from Britain, Armori' 
 ca, and Germany. The venerable Bcde describes the 
 English, both of the better and middle ranks, as com- 
 ing here, not merely for tho sake of study, but in the 
 hope of leading a ([uieter and more contemplative life, 
 (for it wou ai'iuM that the Irish, in all their feuds, 
 respected learning and the clergy) and under the direc- 
 tion of holy Finnian, receiving from Irish hospitality 
 instruction, food, lodgiiij: and books, vrithout charge — 
 ccad mile fiidte. So great was the fame of Finnian as 
 a commentator on Holy Scripture, that all the holy 
 men of Ireland, came to hear wisdom from his ani- 
 mated discourses. Hither came the twelve saints 
 whom St. I'alrick constituted Apostles of Ireland. 
 The venerable Kieran of Saiger, who, with his hair 
 whitened with the snows of an hundred winters, did 
 not disdain to hear Finnian expound to him the sacred 
 book; here also came Kieran of Clonmacnoise, the 
 carpenter's son, who wore himself ont in deeds of pen- 
 ance and died in his thirty-third year. The two Col- 
 umba, Columbkille, and Columb ofTirdaglas, the two 
 Brendans, Brendan of Birr, and Brendan of Kerry, 
 liuadan of Lorra, Molua of Clonfert, and others, as 
 itported by Usher and Colgan, resorted hither. It 
 •would appear that these holy men, while residing at 
 Clonard, did not allow iheir studies to interfere with 
 their bodily exercises, but that they cultivated the rich 
 and fertile soil around their abode, and thus by invig- 
 orating their bodies, enlivened their minds, and ren- 
 dered them more capable of enduring the mental toil 
 attendant on the accumulation of great learning. 
 There yet remains a legend which says that St. Col- 
 umba, the son of Crimthan, one night when his lamp 
 failed, being exceedingly anxious to master some im- 
 portant passage ho had taken in hand, was seen with 
 the Bngers of his right hand tipped with light running 
 along tho leaves of a book, and so, from the effulgence 
 which they cast on the pages, he was enabled to study 
 on while all around him was dark. 
 Proceeding onwards for a mile or two from Clonard 
 
 between two bogs, then, passing through the barony of 
 (;»rr)castlc, in Ihe King's County, in a very distinct 
 line, it strikes llie Shannon, m the exact centre of die 
 island, at Clonmacnoise. Tkis very curious natural 
 vallum, just as distinct as the great Itoman wall, di- 
 viding South Britain fiom Caledonia, was adopted as 
 the dividing line between the two parts of Ireland, and 
 was called Eiscir Kiada, extending from Dublin to 
 Galway, the northern portion being called Leath Con, 
 and the southern, Leath Mogha. The cause of this 
 division, as the Irish historian has it, was tliis; in (tie 
 year A. P. 12j, Con Ceadcathach, ("of the hundred 
 battles,) was monarch of Ireland, and his reign 'Patrio 
 More' was turbulent; according to I*ie custom of his 
 country, though monarch of Ireland, he found it hard 
 enough to be its master. Ho fought an hundred bat- 
 tles, as his name implies, for he was Con of the hun- 
 dred battles, and not Con of the hundred bottles, as, 
 by a ridiculous mistake, an Irish work of character 
 represents him to bo. Yet surely even the Temperance 
 Society would allow that to open an hundred bottles, 
 is a more innoxious business than to lead on to an 
 hundred battles. Con, after being victorious in ninety 
 battlts, over sundry septs, found at last a powerful an- 
 tagonist in Mogha Nuadat, king of Munster. Mogha, 
 not content with his own share of Ireland — fair and fat 
 Munster — must needs try his hand with Con of the 
 hundred battles, and, defeating his liege lord, com- 
 pelled him to divide the island, and this eiscir formed 
 the boundary — the northern division being called 
 Leath Con, or Con's half, and the sonthern Leath 
 Mogha, or Mogha's half. But king Con did not qui- 
 etly stomach this concession, for one morning he had 
 his rival assassinated in bed, and a manslayer, he was 
 slaughtered himself. After wearing his uneasy crown 
 for twenty years, he was murdered by Tiobraide, son 
 of Roderick, King of Ulster, who, while Con was tak- 
 ing his pleasure unarmed in the hall of Tara, em- 
 ployed fifty ruffians in the attire of women to put him 
 to death. 
 
 I am a garrulous rambler. Here I have filled up 
 my allotted space, and must conclude by subscribing 
 myself, 
 
 Your obcdieat servant, 
 
 Tk«i;n(E OTooi.e. 
 
 CURRAN IN A DILEMMA. 
 
 Curran and Barrington were on a visit to a clergy- 
 man near Carlo w, -^vho had invited a party of jovial 
 spirits to meet them. Dinner was appointed for five 
 precisely, as Ctirran always stipulated for punctuali- 
 ty. The clock struck — the guests were assembled 
 — every thing bespoke a joyous banquet — but the 
 Counsellor was not to be found — nix, .seven came — 
 day departed, and twilight approached, people were 
 sent in every direction, but no tidings of him could 
 be heard, except that he had bccu seen in the gar- 
 den at four o'clock. 
 
 Yet every now and then a messenger come in to 
 announce, that ' an old man had seen a counsellor, 
 as he verily believed, walking very quick on the 
 road to Carlow.' Another reported that 'a woman 
 who -was driWng home her cow, met one of the 
 counsellors going leisurely towards Athy, and that 
 he seemed very melancholy ; that she bad ' seen 
 him at tho 'sizes that blessed morning, and the peo- 
 ple towld her it was the great law preacher that was 
 
 the road reaches a lone continuous line of gravel pits, i '" ''•' A'""'^" ^^o">''" «1>° ^^"^ bringing home 
 
 some turf from the bog, declared before the Virgin 
 and all the Saints that she saw ' a little man in black 
 
 along which it runs for a considerable distance, and 
 which is, perhaps, one of the oldest lines of road in 
 Europe. These long lines of gravel hills are all 
 through Ireland called aisgirs, or properly, eiscirs; 
 this one is that which formed, in ancient times, the 
 grand division of Ireland. I Uiink I could trace this 
 eiscir from Dublin Bay by the green hills of Crumlin, 
 
 with a stick in his hand going towards the Barrow;' 
 and a coUough, sitting at her own cabin door feed- 
 ing the ehilder, positively saw a ' black gentleman 
 going down the river, and soon afterwards heard a 
 great splash in the water at the said river ; where- 
 
 and so along by the Eskir of Lucan, then south of the j upon, she went hot-foot to her son, Ned Coyle, to 
 Liffey, near Celbridge, and so across the river near ' send him thither to see if the gentleman was in the 
 Clane, onwtrds by Donadea, until it strikes the line o' ' water ; but that Ned said, sure enough nothing 
 
 natural would be after going at that time of tho 
 deep dusk to the place where poor Armstrong's 
 corp.se lay the night he was inurtliered; and he'd 
 sec all the gentlemen in tlie country to the devil 
 ((iod bless them 1) before he'd go to the said phico 
 tin daylight early.' 
 
 **••♦» 
 The matter became too serious to admit of any 
 doubt as to poor Curran having met his catastrophe. 
 I was greatly shocked ; our only conjectures now 
 being, not -whether, but how, ke kad lost his life. 
 As Curran was known every day to strip naked 
 and wash himself all over with a sponge and cold 
 water, I conjectured, as most rational, that he had, 
 in lieu of his usual ablution, pjne to the Harrow to 
 bathe before dinner, and thus unfortunately perish- 
 ed. All agreed in my hypothesis, and hooks and a 
 draw-net were sent for immediately to Carlow, to 
 scour the river for his body. 
 
 It was at length suggested by our reverend host 
 that his great Newfoundland dog, who was equally 
 sagacious, if not more so, with many of the parish- 
 ioners, and rivalled, in canine proportion, the mag- 
 nitude of his master, was not so unlikely, by diving 
 in the Barrow, to discover where the body lay de- 
 posited — and thus direct the efforts of the nets and 
 hookers from Carlow. This idea met with universal 
 approbation ; and every body took up his hat, to go 
 down to the river. Mary, a young damsel, the only 
 domestic who remained in the house, was ordered 
 to call Diver, the dog ; — but Diver was absent, and 
 did not obey the summons. Everywhere resounded 
 'Diver ! Diver !' but in vain. 
 
 Mary, the maid, was now desired to search all the 
 rooms and offlce.'t for Diver, while we sat pensive 
 and starving in the parlor. "ft'e were speedily 
 alarmed by a loud shriek, immediately after which 
 Mary rushed tottering into the room, just able to 
 articulate : — 
 
 ' O, hoiy Virgin ! holy "Virgin ! YM, gentleman ! 
 the counsellor is dead, sure enough. And I'll die 
 too, genflemen ! I'll never recover it !' and she 
 crossed herself twenty times over. 
 
 AVe all now flocked round, atid asked her simul- 
 taneously how she knew the counsellor was dead? 
 
 Crossing herself again, 'I saw his ghost, please 
 your reverence.' 
 
 ' Where ? where ?' cried every body, as if with 
 one breath. 
 
 ' In the double-bedded room next your rever- 
 ence's,' stammered the terrified gijl. 
 
 We waited for no more to satisfy us either that she 
 was mad, or that robbers were in the house; each per- 
 son sei«d somediing by way of a weajion; one took a 
 poker, another a candlestick, a third a knife or fire, 
 shovel, and up stairs we rushed. Only one could go 
 in, conveniently, abreast, and I was among the first 
 wlio entered. The candles had been forgotten, but 
 the moon was rising, and wo certainly saw what, in 
 the opinion of s»mc present, corroborated the state- 
 ment of Mary. Two or three instantly drew back in 
 horror, and attempted to retreat, but others pressed 
 behind, and lights being at length produced, an exhi- 
 bition far more ludicrous than terrible presented itself. 
 In a far corner of the room stood, erect and formal, 
 and stark naked (as a ghost should be,) John Philpot 
 Curran, one of his majesty's counsel, learned in the 
 law, trembling as if in the ague, and scarce able to 
 utter a syllable, through the combination of cold and 
 and terror. Three or four paces in his front lay Diver, 
 from Newfoundland, stretching out his immense shag- 
 gy carcase, his long p iws extended their full length, 
 and his great head lying on them, with his nose point- 
 ed toward the ghost, as true' as the needle to the pole. 
 Uis hind legs were gathered up like those of a wild 
 beast ready to spring upon his prey. He took an an- 
 gry notice of the first of us that came near him, 
 growled, and seemed disposed to resent our intrusion; 
 but the moment his master appeared, his temper 
 changed, he jumped up, wagged his tail, licked the 
 parson's hand, castr a scowling look at Curran, and 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 109 
 
 tlicn n wistful one at his master, as much as to say, 'I 
 have done my duty, now do yours.' lie looked, in- 
 (Ued, as il'ho only waited for the word of command, 
 to seize iho counsellor by the throttle. 
 
 A blanket was now considerately tlirown over Cur- 
 ran by one of the conijjany, and ho was put to bed 
 with half a dozen more blankets heaped upon him; a 
 tumbler of hot poteen punch was administered, and a 
 second worked miracles; the natural heat began to cir- 
 ciihite, and he was in a little time enabled to rise and 
 tell us a story, which no hermit even telling his last 
 beads could avoid laughing at. Related by any one, 
 it would have been good, but as told by Curran, with 
 his powers of description and characteristic humor, 
 was super-excellent, and we had to tliank Diver, the 
 water-dog, for the highest zest of the whole evening. 
 
 The fact was, that a little time previous to dinner- 
 time, Curran, who had omitted bis customary ablution 
 in the morning, went to our allotted bed-chamber to 
 perform that ceremony, and having stripped, had just 
 begun to apply the sponge, when Diver, strolling about 
 his master's premises to see if all was right, placed by 
 chance his paw against the door, which not being fast- 
 ened, it flew open, he ertered unceremoniously, and 
 observing what he conceived to be an extraordinary 
 and suspicious figure, concluded it was somebody with 
 no very honest intentions, and stopped to reconnoitre. 
 Curran, unaccustomed to so strange a valet, retreated 
 while Diver advanced, and very significantly showed 
 an intention to seize him by the naked throat; which 
 operation, if performed by Diver, whose tusks were a 
 full inch in length, would no doubt have admitted an 
 inconvenient quantity of atmospheric air into his 
 oesophagus. He therefore crept as close into the cor- 
 ner as he coald, and had the equivocal satisfaction of 
 seeing his adversary advance and turn the meditated 
 assault into a complete blockade, stretching himself 
 out, and 'maintaining his position' with scarcely the 
 slightest motion, till the counsellor was rescued, and 
 the siege raised. 
 
 Curran had been in hopes that when Diver had sat- 
 isfied his CHriosity he would retire; and with this im- 
 pression, spoke kindly to him, but was answered only 
 by a growl. If Curran repeated his blandishments, 
 Diver showed his long white tusks; if he moved his 
 foot, the dog's hind legs were in motion. Once or 
 twice Curran raised his hand, but Diver, considering 
 that as a sort of challenge, rose instantly, and with a 
 low growl looked significantly at Corran's windpipe. 
 Curran, therefore, stood like a model, if not much Uke 
 a marble divinity. 
 
 it was for the purpose of making them stay at home, I A Dustman's Compliment. — As the beautiful 
 just as wo would talk of clipping the wings and tails of n«chess of Devonshire was one day stepping out of 
 ■' ,1-^11 her carnage, a dustman, catching a glance or lier 
 
 (icsnme object, and perhaps „,„„tenanee, e.xclain.cd, 'l.ove and bless you, my 
 lady, let me light my pipe in your eyes!' The duch- 
 ess, it is said, was so delighted, that she frequently 
 afterwards declined the homage so largely offered to 
 her charms by saying, 'Oh, after the dustman's com- 
 plement all others arc insipid.' 
 
 SMALL FEET OF THE CHINESE WOMEN. 
 
 One of the many strange things which attract the 
 attention of a foreigner in China, is the small feet of 
 the females, or rather, 1 should say, their deformed 
 lower extremities, for their feet would be like those of 
 other nations, if they were not, shortly after birth, put 
 into metal boots or socks, which are kept on to pre- 
 vent their growth, and under this cruel torture, al- 
 though in an earlier st-ige of life, as many fall a sacri- 
 fice, as in our own country to tight lacing of the waist. 
 The extremities thus treated lose all resemblance to 
 the human foot, although something like a shoe is put 
 on it. The writer brought one home with him which 
 would fit a foot nearly four inches long, and this is the 
 shoe of an adult. Similar ones may be seen in the 
 Dublin Society House. Their ancles have become 
 like those of some of our dear country-women, who 
 have the good taste to conceal them with long petti- 
 coats, but the Chinese ladies catmot walk so well as 
 they do, and can only be said to hobble along, as a 
 man does who goes on two wooden legs. All the 
 Chinese women undergo this process, except that class 
 which correspond in rank with our basket women, and 
 those who live almost entirely in boats on the lakes 
 and rivers; together with the Tartar females, who be- 
 long to the highest class of society, and have not yet 
 adopted this custom of the people whom they have 
 contiuered. 
 
 The writer asked an intelligent Chinese what was 
 he reason for this practice, to which he replied, that 
 
 our domestic poultry for the same object, and pcrliaps 
 we could not give as satisfactory an answer in defiance 
 of some of our own customs; for instance, how could 
 we defend to a Chinese the practice of putting Hour on 
 the heads of our lawyers and judges, instead of mak- 
 ing bread of it, as he would do; or the tight lacing of 
 our ladies' waists, in defiance of health and beauty, at- 
 tempting to improve the shape of the human form di- 
 vine, 'as if one of nature's journeymen had made them 
 — badly.' Or how defend the preposterous custom of 
 removing from the chins of one sex, that which dis- 
 tinguishes their face from the other, as if they were 
 ashamed of their manhood. In short, we may class 
 together the small feet of the Chinese, the hair-pow- 
 dered shaved European, with all his pretensions to 
 civilization, his spider-waisted wife, the flat-nosed in- 
 habitant of New Zealand, and the tatooed North 
 American Indian with a feather in his nose, as speci- 
 mens of absurdity capable of no rational defence. The 
 Chinese females, unlike those of most other Kastern 
 nations, are not closely confined to the house, but are 
 permitted to hobble about with the assistance of a stick; 
 the state of their feet, however, prevents them from 
 gadding much about. F. 
 
 The Irish Wolf Dog. — The following paragraph 
 is extracted from a letter of Lord Conway's to his 
 brother. Sir George Rawdon, in the Rawdon Papers. 
 Perhaps some reader of the Penny Journal might be 
 able to furnish an anecdote of the wolf dog which may 
 redeem its character from the stain cast upon it by the 
 recreant hound. 
 
 'We had yesterday an unfortunate passage. Andy 
 Loftus brought an Irish dog to fight with a mastiff 
 before the king; the Irish dog had all the advantage 
 imaginable, and dragged him five or six times about 
 the ring, so that every body gave the masliff up for 
 dead; all men were concerned as if it had been their 
 general, and yet at last the Irish dog ran away. I lost 
 my money, and afterwards the king called me to him, 
 and said he would lay £500, that neither I nor all the 
 men in Ireland could bring an Irish wolf dog that 
 would not run away. I pray speak with my Lord 
 Dungannon about it, 'or though I will not upon any 
 man's conscience venture so much money, yet I will 
 be willing to go my share, and I am sure the king will 
 lay it. I pray speak with my lord lieutenant, and 
 know what dogs he hath, and eEquire amongst all 
 your friends, for I would fain recover the credit of our 
 country.' 
 
 Writers and Readers. — None but those who 
 have made the experiment can tell the difficulty of the 
 task — viz., to please every one. Yet it is attainable 
 to a great extent, if attempted with honesty of purpose 
 and untn-ing perseverance. 
 
 To interest, without exciting — to instruct, without 
 offending — to please, without flattering — to be cheer- 
 ful, yet grave — and humorous, wilbout descending 
 into buft'oonery — are the prime requisites of a public 
 instructor. 
 
 Readers ought to constitute the jury by which an 
 author should be tried. Their temper should be calm, 
 every thing should bo decided on its own merits, and 
 nothing received but what bears investigation. 
 
 That man is a ])hilosopher, whatever be his station, 
 or his information, who mentally digests what he 
 reads. What a waste of valuable time does it save 
 him! — what a store of precious ideas does it preserve to 
 him! 
 
 But the mind of the unthinking reader is a sieve 
 which retains what is worthless, and permits what is 
 pure and profitable to pass through. 
 
 Irishmen, in general, are not reputed to be of a re- 
 flecting or mcta])hysoal spirit. Let them labor to at- 
 tain it, by attending to their thoughts — a prodigious 
 deal of reading may be gone through, and yet the in- 
 dividual be a very thoughtless person. 
 
 The gi-cat object of all writers and readers should 
 be — the elevation of the moral and mental character of 
 man. 
 
 THE ABBEY OF INCH. 
 
 COUNTY OF DOWN. 
 
 The Abbey of Inch, or Inniscourcey, was erected 
 by the renowned John de Courcey, for monks of the 
 Cistercian order, supplied from the Abbey of Fumes 
 in Lancashire, and dedicated to the blessed Virgin, 
 on the 3d of June, A. D., 1180. 
 
 Though at present, a very dilapidated ruin, enough 
 remains to show that it was originally an abbey of 
 great importance, and architectural beauty. It was 
 in the usual form of a cross, and had a lofty belfry 
 on the south side. Of the latter there are at present 
 no remains except of the arch on which it stood, which 
 appears to have been of very elegant construction ; 
 of the church, itself, there is little to be seen except 
 the east end, or chancel, which has three noble lancet 
 windows, upwards of twenty feet in height, in its 
 east wall ; and two windows of similar foi-m, and 
 nearly equal grandeur, in each of the side wall. On 
 the south side of the altar, are the remains of the 
 seats for the administering priest and his assistants. 
 Owing to the accumulation of weeds and rubbish, 
 there are no sepulchral monuments to be seen -with- 
 in the ruins. 
 
 The circumstances connected with the foundation 
 of this monastery are characteristic of the spirit of 
 the age. Sir John do Courcey, having in his strug- 
 gles for conquest with the native princes in this dis- 
 trict found it necessary to demolish a Benedictine 
 abbey, called Erj-nagh or Carrig, which, from the 
 strength of its position, had been converted into a 
 garrison, and did him much mischief, he founded 
 this Abbey of Inch in atonement for his saci-ilcgc, 
 and endowed it with all the lands of the extinguish- 
 ed house. It is not improbable that the hardy ad- 
 venturer was influenced in no small degree to per- 
 form this act of atonement, by a reputed prophecy 
 of a St. Evodius, the first abbot of Erynagh, who 
 on the day of his decease gave directions that his 
 body should be interred in the Island of Inis, say- 
 ing that his own abbey w^otild in aftertimes be de- 
 stroyed, but that one should be built on that Island. 
 The error which Harris, the Historian of the 
 County of Down, and Arehdall, fell into, in sup- 
 posing De Courcey's abbey to have been the first 
 founded on this island or peninsula, as well as that 
 its present name has been derived from that founda- 
 tion, has been conected by Jlr. O'Donovan, the 
 most able and judicious Irish scholar and topograph- 
 er, which Ireland has produced for the last century. 
 Ho shows that the original name of this island now 
 corruptly called Inniscourcey, was Inniscumhs- 
 craigh, pronounced Inniscooscry, and that an Ab- 
 bey had existed on the island from a very remote 
 time. ' Tighernach,' Mr. O'Donovan observes, ' Ab- 
 bott of Clonmacnoise, who died in 1088, records, 
 that in the year 1002, Sitrie, King of the Danes, ar- 
 rived with a fleet in Uladh (Down) and plundered 
 Kilclicf and Iniseooscry. The aiuials of the Four 
 Masters and Keating, in the reign of Brian Boru, 
 concur in recording the same occurrence, in almost 
 the same words that Tighernach uses. The annals 
 of the Four Masters also, under the year lOGl, re- 
 cord the death of Hogan O'Cormacnn, Abbot of In- 
 niseumseraigh ; and Hugh Maglanha, Abbot of In- 
 niscumscray, was a subscribing witness to the char- 
 ter of Newry.' ' From all which,' Mr. O'Donovan 
 adds ' it appears quite manifest that a monasters' 
 •was erected on this peninsula before John de Courcey 
 was bom.' 
 
 AVc have repeated these notices of our friend, be- 
 cause they ciu-iously illustrate the history of our 
 next embellishment, which represents the origin- 
 
2C0 
 
 nilSII MISCELLANY. 
 
 nl Al b ')• clunvh of Incumscray, wliich Hanis cr- 
 roiicou!>ly supposes to be but a tliapL-l to the great- 
 er Abbey. 
 
 This interesting rcmnin, whi'.-h is situated imme- 
 diately af'er tlie entrance into t! ci.-laiid by a oau.M- 
 way, indieates, in the ^implieity of its form, and 
 architectural features, a very cuily antiquity; but 
 we have not been able to dLscoVvT any histOiieal 
 notiee of the period of its founJation. The South 
 door is emle'.lished with a very eurious piece of an- 
 cient stuipnire, represeutin^ the Saviour on ih-" 
 cross, and ii person on his kne s. with hislianJs ele- 
 vated, praying to him. 
 
 In this church w.is buri; d Sir James Melville, 1 
 
 TIIE ABBEY OF INCH, COUNTY OF DOWN. 
 
 supposed to be a descendant of the famous Knight I 
 of the .tame name, who was secretary to Mary Queen l 
 of Scots, and author of the memoirs that pass under 
 his name. The monument of the former, which is 
 • of freestone, and placed in an arch on the north 
 I side of tlic aliar, is, according to Harris, ' thus set 
 out. Over a scutcheon of arms, the supporters of 
 I wMeh are two birds, the rest being defaced, you have 
 this line, v'z : 
 
 S. Anno 1G28. D. 
 Then, on the top of the scutcheon in one quar- 
 ter, I. M. and in the other quarter, A. K. At the 
 foot of the scutcheon on one side, are these words, 
 thus placed : 
 
 C'hristo et crucc. 
 
 In- 
 
 spcro. 
 
 and nndemeath, this inscription; 
 
 In^ignis. miles, mclvillns. earnbia. Proles. 
 Mole. sub. hae. lapidum. mortuus. eccc.jacct. 
 Scoti.-". natalen . evlei>ra\-it. Hibernia. funus. 
 
 Intu.-. Habet. tumulum. spiritus. astra. eolit. 
 Sexaginta. octo. fclices. vLxerat. amios. 
 
 Quadiaginta. novcm. ex. his. animosus. cques. 
 Mile. et. se.Kcentos. vicenos. egerat. .".nnos. 
 
 Et. octo. Christus. cum. timialatus. erat. 
 The Island or peninsula of Iniscoureey or Iniscoos- 
 cray is situated on the lough of Strangford, nearly 
 opposite to Downpatrick. 1>. 
 
 
 THE OmOIXAL ABBEY-CirURCH OF INCH. 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 201 
 
 IRISH MISCELLANY 
 
 Is publishud weekly, and devoted to the inlercsts mid vin- 
 dtuHtiuii of the Ivhh peojiie throughout the world. 
 
 Tho i\ff>fiJ!/fl»iy republishes enchwcekoue whole number 
 ot the old 'Dublin I'ennv Jouukal,' with original and 
 t;elcctod essays, reviews, poetry, &c., by Irishmen, of first- 
 nite ability. Ital^o contains bcnntiful rictoriiil Illustru- 
 tious o!" Irish !?ccnory and other objects of interest, among 
 whicn may be enumerated enfjravings oi the ancient ens- 
 ties and roiuid towers, the ruins of the old churches, the 
 plundered monasteries, convents and abbeys of IreUuid. 
 
 It will also contain correct Tictorial representations of 
 
 works of art executed by Irishmen ot the present day, as 
 
 well as in former times, in this country and throughout 
 
 Europe. 
 
 TKiiMS. — S2,00 per year, invariably in advance. 
 
 WALSU & CO. rnOl'KIETUliS, 
 
 KO. 4 WaTKR STltEET, IJOSTON, MASS. 
 
 RATES OF AUVEKTLSING. 
 
 FOR EACil SQUAHE OP TWELVE LINES. 
 
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 Each subsequent do. . 50 i One year, .... IG.OO 
 
 Six lines or less constitute half a square. 
 
 Larger advertisements charged in proportion. 
 
 Business Kotices, solid .... 10 cents per line. 
 
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 BUSINESS CARDS of six lines or les8. 
 For On Month, . . . S1.50 | Six Mouths, . , 
 Three Months, . . . SS-OO | One Year, . . . 
 *»*A11 advertisements payable in advance. 
 
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 $8.00 
 
 OUR AGENTS. 
 
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 Owen McNamara, 
 
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 The Miscellantj may also be had retail, of newspaper and 
 periodical dealers throughout the country. 
 
 (T^ James Doyle of Millbury, 3Ia,=s., is the authorized 
 Travelling Agent for the Misckllanv throughout :New 
 England. 
 
 clubs; CLUES! 
 
 The expense of producing the Irish Mixcellamj is much 
 
 greater than that of an ordinary ne.vspiipcr. Yet to meet 
 
 tlic wishes of many persons, and to place the Misrcdla-uj 
 
 ■within (he reach of all, we have resolved to supply it on tlie 
 
 following terms, in advance. 
 
 To aclub of six persons sent to one address, i5;10,00 
 
 To a club of twelve, ly.OO 
 
 The whole of the money must invariably be sent at oui 
 
 remittance. 
 
 Lowell, Mass. 
 
 Salem, Mass. 
 
 Bangor, Me. 
 
 New York. 
 
 rhiladelphia. 
 Ohio. 
 
 Detroit, Mich. 
 
 'Spring and the Exile,' like a deal of contributions we 
 receive, is anything but poetry. 
 
 ' D. \V.' Jersey City. We cordially approve of your sen- 
 timents, but must reject your poetry. What is the Hue of 
 addressing such fierce appeals to the people of Ireland, who 
 scemeo i>erfectly content with their position. There is 
 nothing in the present state of public opinion in that coun- 
 try which can justify it. 
 
 'Oei.'ALY,' Philadelphia. Ditto. 
 
 'Antiquary.' The Antrim Kound Tower is on a large 
 plain about half a mile from the town of Aiilrim, This 
 tower is ninety-five feetin height, and at one yard from the 
 ground is fifty-three feetin circumference, Tln^ interior is 
 divided into three stories with holes in the walls for joists 
 to support lufts, and loopholes for the ndmiesion of light 
 and air. We sliall give tlie cut of it with a full description, 
 in due season. 
 
 'Cei,t,' Boston. Wc have not forgotten the promise wc 
 made in our prospectus, of having an Irish department in 
 the Miscellany. We have written to Dublin, to a friend to 
 learn what we can purchase a font of type in Irish charac- 
 tei-s for, as w-e believe it can be procured more advantage- 
 ously than here. As soon as we can complete the necc^sa 
 ry arrangements our Gaelic department shall be com- 
 menced. 
 
 • Patricius,' Milwaukie. The Abbey of Armagh was 
 founded by St. Patrick, in the year 457, for the canons of 
 the order of St. Augustine, and dedicated it to the apostles 
 SS. Peter and Paul. It was for many ages one of the most 
 celebrated ecclesiastical foundations iji the world. Tlie 
 Danes burned Armagh and all its sacred -edifices to the 
 ground, in 839. 
 
 IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 BOSTON, SATURDAY, MAY 8, 1858 
 
 Canada West. 
 
 NOTICES TO CORRESPONDENTS. 
 
 nserliou iu lbi.s paper, 
 
 Cy^ Commimiciitions iiiluuded lor 
 ebuuld be addressed 
 
 'To the Editors of the 
 Irish JlisccUany,' 
 Uoston, Mass.' 
 [TT* Wo cannot take any notice of commiinicntions in- 
 teniled for insertion, if written on both sides of the paper. 
 
 017" Correspondents must furnish us with their naracs, in 
 conhdcnce, or tlieir favors cannot be published. 
 
 DIP" We cannot return any manu.script sent us for publica- 
 tion. 
 
 (r7= OnnCoRitiiSpnjiDKNTH should forward commcmica- 
 Hous intended for insertion in tlie Mi.v.eUany, not lali;r tlian 
 the Saturday before tite day of publication, as our increas- 
 ing circulation compels us to go to press every Monday 
 morning. 
 
 'Gallant TirrtniAnY.' Your lines are creditable to 
 your patriotism, but do not come up to our standard of 
 
 'S. A. C Thei 
 
 • above will apply to your favor. 
 
 'KlITKItA 
 
 pinion yoi] 
 
 ATT'aCK ON TSE PROPRIETOR OF THE 
 fVSISCELLANY. 
 
 THE PEliPETKATOR FOILED! 
 
 *Thc purest ti-easure mortal times alTord, 
 Is— spotless reputation ; that away 
 Men are but fiilded loam or painted clay : 
 A jewel in a ten times barred up cbcst 
 Is a bold spirit in a Joyal breast.' 
 
 Our readers have, doubtless, noticed irora reports iu the 
 daily press, that an abortive attempt has been made to stig- 
 matize the proprietor of the Miscellany as a purloiner of 
 other peoples' coi-respondouce— an interceptor of letters; to 
 fasten upon him a crime somewluit similar to that of which 
 Tuckerman has so recentlj'.becn found guilty before the 
 United States court at Kew Haven. As our readers are 
 not aware of the motives which induced this charge to be 
 brought, we feel bouud, from considerations of justice to 
 ourselves, to give them 'a round, unvarnished tale'— a sum 
 mary of all the incidents which led to this most cowardly 
 assault upon our character and standing. 
 
 The 'Iri.sh Miscellany' was (irst issued to the public on 
 .Saturday the thirteenth of February last, by the lirm of 
 .Jackson & Foyncs, job printers, of Ko. 2 Spring lane, Bos- 
 ton — a iirm, all of whose matei-ial was under heavy mort- 
 gages, flud without the pecuniaiy means ncce.'^sary to suc- 
 cessfully carry on such an enterprise as the publication of a 
 newspaper, which, as all persons iu any degree familiar 
 with newspaper life, well know are the real 'sinews of war.' 
 Aflerthc paper had been some three weeks in existence, 
 Jlr. Foynes, finding from the loose manner in which the 
 affiiirs of the entire cstablisbmcut were conducted that he 
 would lose what little he possessed, disposed of his in- 
 terest to Mr. Jackson for a nominal sum, which Mr. Jack- 
 son was unable to raise without making a eucrilice of the 
 paper. 
 
 In this posture of affairs, not wishing for tlic honor of 
 ournative land to havesuch a national undertaking perish 
 in the bud tor want of proper nurture, wc came in, and for 
 a crrtain sum of money bought all the right, title and in- 
 terest of Mr W. K. .laekson in the paper, together with all 
 the materials used in printing (he same; at the same time 
 taking up a certain mortgage resting on the nniterial for 
 •*?liin, which sum had been kindly furnished Mr. Jackson to 
 aid him in his undertaking. A legal document to that ef- 
 fect was drnwhui), and the property transferred to us. On 
 the succeeding day, Mr. Jackson proceeded with us to the 
 J'ost Ofncc, and there authorised the clerks in the general 
 delivery departraeut to deliver to ns all letters addressed to 
 'Jackson & Foynes,' and 'Jackson & Co.,' as publislicrs of 
 the Irish Miscellany. 
 
 On purchasing, it was agreed, for the purpose of prcvent- 
 ng too sudden a change, that the paper should continue to 
 je published at No. 2 Spring lane, and under the name of 
 laekson & Co. ARcr remaining at No. 2 .Spring lane for 
 
 further publication of the paper there, in justice to our- 
 selves or our patrons, who iu point of numbers were con- 
 stantly increasing. AVe therefore determined on a removal 
 and engaged a room at No. 22 .School street, which wc look 
 possession of on the issue of the eighth number of the pa- 
 per. Wc hod been some two or three days in our new es- 
 tablishment, when we were waited on by Mr T. H. Carter, 
 a gentleman well known in this community, who made 
 claim to the larger portton of our material, which he stat- 
 ed had been mortgaged to him. Wc were ot course as- 
 tounded at this new claim— wc could not believe it, for Mr. 
 Jackson, with 'a lie in his right hand' assured us on pur- 
 chasing, that the property was entirely Iree from encum- 
 brance, with the exception of the mortgage for $100, which 
 we agreed to take up. On investigation, however, wo 
 found the claim to be a just one, and Mr. Carter, not wish- 
 ing to bring Mr. Jackson to that punishment which be so 
 richly deserved, agreed to save us any loss by cancelling 
 the mortgage which he held. Here was the first instance of 
 the conduct of Mr. Jackson, iu disposing to us property 
 which had already been mortgaged to two separate indi- 
 viduals. 
 
 Time passes on. Another two weeks have ehapsed, when 
 we wei'c told that on the day we removed from Spring 
 lane, Mr. Jackson bad taken away a large portion of our 
 type and other material. AVe sent for him, and on Friday, 
 the 23d of April he called on us. We told him what we 
 had heard, at the same time informing him that all we de- 
 sired was restitution of our property, and to cease all fur- 
 ther connection with him. He did not deny the fact, but 
 with the usual subterfuge of a guilty mind, charged us with 
 opening bis private letters. Finding by peaceable means 
 we could not obtain our property, we went that same after- 
 noon to the Police court, for the purpose of procui'ing a 
 warrant for the arrest of Mr. Jackson, but found that tri- 
 bunal closed. On the following morning (Saturday) we 
 were arrested on a charge of intercepting the correspond- 
 ence of Mr. Jackson. Assured of our innocence, we iiad 
 no fears as to the result. We underwent a preliminary ex. 
 aminatiou before Commissioner Edward G. Loriug, and 
 the result was a discharge — and that too, predicated upon 
 the insufficiency of the government testimony ! Of a vtri- 
 tv, 'v.'eak man must fall when God deiends the right-' 
 
 We have, as ■■ we said iu the outset, entered into this 
 statement from considerations of justice to ourselves, and 
 leaving our readers to draw their own inferences, we wash 
 our hands of Mr. W. Jackson, at least so far as the col- 
 ums of the Miscellany are concerned. 
 
 'THE MILITARH ELEMENT IN THF IRISH 
 CHARACTFR.' 
 
 Wesball, in our next number, conunence the first of a 
 series of articles under the above title, prepared expressly 
 for the Miscellany, by a gentleman of universally ack- 
 nowledged literary attainments. These articles will em- 
 brace a history of all the prominent battles fought in Ire- 
 land from the time of Hugh O'Neil to the seige of Lime- 
 rick; the deeds of the Irish Brigade id France, Italy and 
 the Low Countries; the battles during the wars of James 
 ed and the I'rince of Orange; and those of the 'rebels' of 
 '98in Wicklow, &c. The whole will form a complete mil- 
 itary history of our country, and will be a valuable addi- 
 tion to our native literature. 
 
 PUSLICATiONS RECEIVED. 
 
 received from A. Williams & Co., 100 Wash- 
 
 riv O,' lioston. We a™ree with you in the 
 
 have of the class you refer to, but such men i some two weeks, we found from the number of obstacles 
 
 are unworthy of notice I thrown in our way, that it was impossible to continue the 
 
 We have 
 inglon street, a finely executed lithographic likeness of tin 
 great novelist, humoiist and satirist, W. M. 'Ihackcray. 
 Every lover of the author of 'The Kewcomes' should pos- 
 sess themselves of a copy at the earliest moment. 
 
 NEW MUSIC. 
 From Eusscll and Eichardson, 291 Washington street:— 
 'Air de liretagnc,' by A. Croisez; 'The lireukfast I5c!l I'ol- 
 ka,' a companion to the Dinner and Supper liel I, as per- 
 formed by Gilmore's Salem Brass Bund, and composed by 
 V. S. Gilmore, — embellished with a beautiful vignette; a 
 grand Waltz 'L'Etoilc' by Auguste Mortier; Nos. 3, 4, Sand 
 li of 'Leaves from my Album', composed for thcyoung, by 
 JohnFrietag; 'Ina,' or Her Smile was all Sweetness,' a 
 ballad, written by John Fletcher, I'iq., composed by F. 
 Buckley : 'Old Norwich University Kuick Step,' composed 
 and dedicated to }he Norwich Cadets, of Norwich, Vt., by 
 E. I'arker; 'Hungarian Mask Gallop,, by Carl Zerralm, and 
 dedicated to Miss Fannie Carter. All these pieces are ar- 
 ranged for the I'iano Forte, and are issued by the publish- 
 ers in the most unexceptionable manner. 
 
 SUBSCRIPTIONS FOR THE DONEGAL 
 SUFFERERS. 
 
 M. J. Walsh & Co., Proprietors of Jliscellany, S5.00 
 M. F. & 1". C, New Haven, Conn., 2.00 
 
 A. Dougherty, Westboro, Mo.'s., l.oo 
 
 Will our friends send in their subscriptions without delay 
 as it is our desire to remit the amount received, at the ear- 
 liest possible moment. 
 
202 
 
 IRISH MISCKLLANY. 
 
 W'ritU'ii for tliu JlisofllHiiy. 
 SONC OF THE IRISH PEASANT WIFE. 
 
 Cunic rnlrick, clfiir tlio etorui from yuur brow, 
 
 you ivi! kind to ino once— will you frown on nic now— 
 
 Sliull lliv Morni mjIIIu licrv wlit'U iVoiu hviivvn it piirtK, 
 And lilt- cold from without Und llawuy to our liuurls? 
 
 Ko, rutricl:, no; eurcly tlic wlntrii-«t wcntliir 
 Is easily bornv— wlulo we boar It logctbiT. 
 
 Tlioiijtli tlio riiin'8 dropping ttirouKli from tlic roof to llio 
 Iloor, 
 
 And the wind wbistlus tno where there onoo was a 
 door: 
 Can the rain or the snow, or the storm wash away- 
 All the warm vows wc nuule in love's early day .' 
 Ko, I'atrick, no; surely the dark stormy weather 
 Is easily borne— so we bear it lOKCther. 
 
 When you stole out to woo rac when labor was done, 
 And the day that wan closing, to us seenied begun ; 
 
 Did wc care if the sunset was bright on the llowers. 
 Or if wecrvpt out amid darkness and showers.' 
 
 Ko, I'atrick, we talked while we braved the wild weather 
 (Jf all we could bear— if we bore it together. 
 
 Soon, soon will those tlark dreary days be gone by, 
 And our hearts be lit u]i by a beam from the sky ; 
 
 Oh! let not our spiriis, embittered with pain, 
 lie dead to Ilie sunshine that comes alter rain ; 
 
 llcart and heart— hand in hand— let us welcome the 
 weather 
 And sunshine or storm, wc will bear it together. 
 
 Written lor the .Miscellany. 
 A SONC OF THE IRISH RAPPEREE. 
 
 BY THOMAS MC DONALD. 
 
 The raperce's life is the life <or rac, 
 ■\Vhcree're we go our hearts arc free; 
 We fear not the king nor obey his command, 
 We are lords of the soil in our own native laud; 
 No lordly dupes nor slaves are we, 
 Light is the heart of the rapperce. 
 Our forts are the rocks which nature builds— 
 Our homes are amongst our native hills; 
 And the lordly tyrant wheree'er he be 
 Shrinks from the gaze of the rapperce. 
 
 The slave that loves his chains to bear, 
 Although he may sit in a judgment chair. 
 His mind is troubled with courtly strile- 
 He knows not the bliss of a freenmn's life; 
 lie cannot sing life's song like liie- 
 Mine is the song of the rapperce. 
 Our forts are the rocks which nature builds— 
 Our homes are amongst our uati^'e hills: 
 And the lordly tyrant wherce're he be 
 Shrinks I'rom the gaze of the rapperce. 
 Cincinnati, Ohio. 
 
 Dr. Young nnd will 'polish him oft' by relating a 
 Iilensiuji; little nnccdotc coneiniing him: He was 
 one day walking in his garden at ^\■elw■J^l, in com- 
 pany with two ladies, one of whom he afterwards 
 married, when the servant apjjrised him that a gen- 
 tleman wislied to speak with him. 'Tell liim.' said 
 the doctor, 'I am too happily engaged to change 
 
 my situation.' The ladies in.si.,ted he shonl.l go, as j tions were written for that periodical 
 his visitor was a man of rank, his friend und pn- | lesque of The Korcrs, a take off 
 
 tron. Persuasion had no effect, when they each 
 took an ann and led him to the garden gate; find- 
 ing resistencc in vain, he bowed, laid his hand up- 
 on Ills lienrt, and in that e.\pressive manner for 
 which he was so remarkable, spoke the following 
 lines: — 
 
 Here again, amongst the works of the English 
 poets, I find a copy of the writings of the celebrat- 
 ed George Cunning, who -as a statesman was just 
 alike to freedom and the throne; and as an orator 
 was eloquent, witty, and of consummate taste.' Ho 
 was ».S9oeiated with Grilliths in the management of 
 the Anti-Jacobite, nnd most of his literary produc- 
 
 His bur- 
 on the Ciennan 
 
 'Thus Adam looked when ft-om tli 
 And thus disputed orders sent Irci 
 f-'u, 1.11 
 
 e garden driven 
 
 Like 1) 
 Like I: 
 Hard 
 
 iikH> ,lr 
 
 A delicate and prctily conceived compliment, 
 wasn't it? 
 
 There are the works of the great equestrian ro- 
 mancer — the chronicler of the doings of that ubi- 
 quitous couple of horsemen, George Trince llcgent 
 James. Tliere are many readers who do not like 
 James, but plebeian as the taste may be, I must 
 confess to a weakness for his works; they have been 
 and are, a source of infinite delight to me, and by 
 the blood of my ancestors, (two or three of them, 
 by tlic way, were imported to Botany liay) I feel 
 a brotherly affection for him. 
 
 There are the writings of the English prelate. 
 Bishop Still, whose Gammer Gurton's Needle, in 
 its day took the town by storm. The bishop must 
 have been a thorough John Bull, in his love of 
 'hold hale,' vidclicit — 
 
 'I cannot eat but little meat 
 
 My stomach is not good, 
 But I can drink of nut brown ale 
 
 With liini that wears a liood; 
 Then back iidd sides go bare, go bare, 
 
 liiith hand and loot go cold— 
 Bui beily, tiod give the good ale enough, 
 
 Written for the Irish Jliscellany. 
 INK PROPS: 
 
 PKOM THE PEN OF THE 'QUEKU COVE.' 
 
 No. 3.— My Authors. 
 
 Good Dr. Edward Young, opens liis 'Ni"ht 
 Thoughts' with a beautiful apostrophy to — 
 •Tired nature's sweet restorer, balmy sleep.' 
 
 I need not enquire, Jlr. Editor, if you ever in- 
 dulged in a 'balmy sleep,' for I well know that you 
 like M. Beausaint, 'have no small vices.' I was 
 out the other evening vainly endeavoring to ascer- 
 tain if there was such a commodity as 'balm in Gil- 
 ead,' and undoubtedly having been slightualy 'over- 
 come' in my wanderings, which were to the full as 
 marvelous as those of Ulysses, fell into w hat the 
 late lamented Mr. Shakespeare calls a 'balm to hurt 
 minds,' from which, very fortunately, I awoke, 
 just in season to redeem my promise to you. You 
 have no idea Mr. Editor, what traps there are laid 
 for confiding, innocent and unsuspecting youn" 
 men! Our hydropathic friend John B. Gout-h, 
 fell from a state of grace 'once upon a time,' and 
 what are you to expect from one who hath no 
 grace: Aqua purea! odds pittikcns! as Prince 
 Hamlet obse^^•es, 'my gorge rises at it.' I fully 
 agree with 'fat Jack' that 'an I had a thousand sons 
 the first human principle I would teach them would 
 be to forswear thin potations, and adict themselves 
 to sack.' 
 
 Whether it be new or old.' 
 
 misfortune it was to be taken from this terrestrial 
 sphere at the early age of twenty-five. His 'Cul- 
 prit Fay' is undoubtedly the finest fairy poem that 
 has been written since Shakespeare's 'Mid Simi- 
 mcr Night's Dream.' Let mc conjure you, Mr. 
 Editor man to get the work, and in the language of 
 the prayer book 'read, mark, learn and inwardly 
 digest' it, Here now, look you, is a piece of ima- 
 gery, which has rarely, if ever been equalled, cer- 
 tainly never surpassed — 
 
 'lint O, how fair the form that lay 
 lieneatli a rainbow bending bright, 
 
 And buttoned ^^itll ii >pii 
 Icr face was of tlic lillv> i 
 That veils the veMiil plan 
 
 sentimental stylo of writing, digi)layed his inimita- 
 ble powers in that line to perfection. As Mr. Ham- 
 let observed to 'ye player manne' I will give you a 
 'taste of his quality," in a song with a chorius, 
 'vitch,' like that galliunt loveyer Mr. A'illikens, 'vo 
 sings to ourselves:' 
 
 Whene'er with haggard eyes I view 
 
 This dungeon ilini I'lii nitiiiic in 
 1 think of th.,..i.c.Mi,piuii.„„ true 
 
 Who studied \\ ilh nu- iil ihe U- 
 
 niver>ity of (jottcngcn. 
 
 Sweet kerchief, checked Willi heavenly blue. 
 Which once my love sat knotting in, 
 
 Alas! Matilda then was true- 
 At least I thought so at the U- 
 
 uiversity of Ijottengcn. 
 
 Barbs, barbs, alas! 
 
 Her neat post \vi 
 Ye bore Matilda li 
 
 Forlorn I linger 
 
 ift ve fle» 
 
 d at the L- 
 nivereity of Ciottengen. 
 
 This faded form! this pallid hue! 
 
 This blood my veins is clotting in, 
 My years are many— thev were Jew 
 
 When first 1 entered at' the L"- 
 
 niversity of Uotteugen. 
 
 There first for thee my passion grew, 
 Sweet, sweet Matilda I'ottingeu! 
 
 Thou wast the daughter of the Tu- 
 tor, law professor at the U- 
 
 niversity of Oottcngen. 
 
 li round it gleam 
 Which lie'er have lell their native' heaven.' 
 'ITierc's a style of female for you. Couldn't we or- 
 gaize a fillibu.ster expedition and make a seizure of 
 some of these charmers? an' we could, I have no 
 doubt but that the event would live as long in sto- 
 ry as the famous, (and because successful, justly 
 so) attempt on the Sabine women. By the mass! 
 the attempt would be well worth a trial, and sup- 
 pose we try it on: I am confident we could get ten 
 recruits to A'alker's vun. Ours you know would 
 be 'premium tulips,' while his mon amie, were like 
 those which a certain adipose 'gcmman' the first 
 letter of who,se name begins with Falstaff, pressed 
 But to leave this digression, and to continue the into the service for Shrewsbury fight, 'exceeding 
 matter in h.-uid— the authors. I commenced with I bare and beggarly.' 
 
 Sun, moon, and thou vain world adieu. 
 That kings and priests are plotting in. 
 
 Here doomed to starve on water gru- 
 el, never shall I see IheL'- 
 
 niversity of Oottengen. 
 
 Look there! Coleridge, with Cristabel, the An- 
 cient Mariner, and the finest love ballad in the lan- 
 guage, 'Genevieve'; dear Tom Hood with his Song 
 of the Shirt, his Bridge of Sighs, and his strings of 
 Hero we have a complete set of the works of the I I""'"' convivial Charies Lamb with his EUa Essays, 
 American poets, as far as published, conspicuous i """^ '''^^ ^'"""^ P^diant for boiled babbies and 
 among which are the writings of that talented I '''""' "'Pantile pork; Moore with his soul stirring 
 young 'sawbones' Joseph Hodman Drake, whose ^"""''^i Aytoun, Tennyson-but why go farther? 
 
 I believe I've got all the poetry that ever was writ- 
 ten, and can only say if I haven't, I ought to. 
 
 Pause with me for a while before the works of 
 the greatest author the world has produced since 
 the 23d of April, IGIG, (like Byron I am particular 
 about dates) when W. Shakespeare was gathered 
 to his pa-pa's. Who is it? Why the first of novel- 
 ists. Sir Walter and Bulwer not excepted, Charles 
 Dickens. I never read a book of his without feel- 
 ing better for it, for all his works overflow with the 
 lactcil of human kindness, and touch a cord in the 
 hearts of all readers. Hearken unto what his great 
 rival as a humorist, Thackaray, says of him in his 
 lecture on 'Charity and Humor:' — 
 
 ' As for the charities of Mr. Dickens, multiplied 
 kindnesses which he has conferred upon us all ; up- 
 on our children ; upon people educated and uuedu- 
 catcd ; upon the myriads here and at home, who 
 speak our common tongue ; have not you, have not 
 I, all of us reason to be thankful to this kind friend, 
 who soothed and charmed so many hours, brought 
 pleasure and sweet laughter to so many homes ; 
 made such multitudes of children happy ; endowed 
 us with such a sweet store of gracious thoughts, 
 fair fancies, soft sympathies, hearty anjoyments. 
 There are creations of Mr. Dickens's which seem to 
 me to rank as personal benefits ; figures so delight- 
 ful, that one feels happier and better for knowing 
 them, as one does for being brought into the society 
 of ver}' good men and -women. The atmosphere in 
 -(vhich these people live is wholesome to breathe in ; 
 you feel that to be allowed to speak to them is a 
 personal kindness; you come away better for your 
 contact with them ; your hands seem cleaner from 
 having the privilege of shaking theirs. 'Was there 
 
 And tin 
 : the pun 
 
 I'&i; 
 
 >nd gems 
 drojis of di 
 have lell their nativ 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 203 
 
 ever a better eharity sermon prenehcd in the world 
 thiiu Dickens's Christmas Carol ? I believe it oc- 
 casioned immense hospitality throughout Enj^land ; 
 was the means of lighting up hundreds of kind fires 
 at Christmas time ; caused a Tonderful outpouring 
 of Christmas good feeling; of Christmas punch- 
 brewing ; an awful slaughter of Christmas turkeys, 
 and roasting and basting of Christmas beef. As for 
 this man's lore of children, that amiable organ at 
 the back of his honest head must be perfectly mon- 
 strous. All children ought to love him. I know 
 two that do, and read his books ten times for once 
 that they peruse the dismal preachments of their 
 •father. I know one who, when she is happy, reads 
 Nicholas Xickleby ; when she is unhappy, reads 
 Nicholas Niekleby ; when she is tired, reads Nich- 
 olas Nickleby; when she is in bed, reads Nicholas 
 Niekleby ; when she has nothing to do reads Nich- 
 olas Niekleby ; and when she has finished the book, 
 reads Nicholas Nickleby OTer again. This candid 
 young critic, at ten years of age, said, ' I like Mr. 
 Bickens's books much better than your books, 
 papa ;' and frequently expressed her desire that 
 the latter author should write a book like one of 
 Mr. Dickens's books. Who can? Everymanmust 
 say his own thoughts in his own voice, in his own 
 way ; lucky is he who has such a charming gift of 
 nature as this, which brings all the children in the 
 world trooping to him, and being fond of him. 
 
 I remember when that famous Nicholas Nickleby 
 came out, seeing a letter from a pedagogue in the 
 north of England, which, dismal as it was, was 
 immensely comical. ' Mr. Dickens's ill-adyised 
 publication,' wrote the poor schoolmaster, ' has 
 passed like a whirlwind over the schools of the 
 North.' He was a propristor of a cheap school ; 
 Dotheboys-Hall was a cheap school. There were 
 many such establishments in the northern counties. 
 Parents were ashamed, that never were ashamed 
 before, until the kind satirist laughed at them ; rel- 
 atives were frightened ; scores of little scholars were 
 taken away poor schoolmasters had to shut their 
 shops up ; every pedagogue was voted a Squeers, 
 and many suffered, no doubt, unjustly ; but after- 
 wards school-boys' meat was less tough and more 
 plentiful ; and sehool-boys' milk was not so sky- 
 blue. "WTiat a kind light of benevolence it is that 
 plays round Crummies and the Phenomenon, and 
 all those poor theatre peojile in that charming book ! 
 ^\'hat a humor ! and what a good-humor ! I coin- 
 cide with the youthful critic, whose opinion has 
 just been mentioned, and own to a family admira- 
 tion for Nicholas Nickleby. 
 
 One might go on, though the task would be end- 
 less and needless, chronicling the names of kind 
 folks with whom this kind genius has made us 
 familiar. A\'ho does not love the Marchioness, and 
 Mr. Kichard Swiveller ? A\Tio does not sympathize, 
 not only with Oliver Twist, but his admirable young 
 friend the Artful Dodger ? AMio has not the ines- 
 timable advantage of possessing a Mrs. Nickleby in 
 his own family ? AVho does not bless Sairey Gamp 
 and wonder at Jlrs. Harris. AVho does not venerate 
 the chief of that illustrious family who, being strick- 
 en by misfortune, wisely and greatly turned his at- 
 tention to ' coals,' the accomplished, the Epicurean, 
 the dirty, the delightful Slicawher ? 
 
 I may quarrel with Mr. Dickens's art a thousand 
 and a thousand times, I delight and wonder at his 
 genius ; I recognise in it — I speak with awe and 
 reverence — a commission from that Divine Benifi- 
 ccnco, whose blessed task we know it will one day 
 be to wipe every tear from every eye. Thankfully 
 I take my share of the feast of love and kindness, 
 which this gentle, and generous, and charitable soul 
 has contributed to the happiness of the world. 
 I take and enjoy my share, and say a Benediction 
 for the meal.' 
 
 AMiat more graceful compliment could be paid by 
 one man of genius to another. 
 
 List— 'Harper cries 'tis time, 'tis time'. And so, 
 for a se'nnight Mr. Editor, 'bob swore,' as Miss 
 Mowcher observes. 
 
 CORRESPONDENCE. 
 
 Ddulin, April 8, 185S. 
 
 In ray last letter hut one 1 spoke in severe terms of 
 old Trinity College, and condemned the id»a of ever 
 expecting any good from the old "harridan. I liasten 
 to take back my words Mid to s»y that I have wit- 
 nessed a sight sufficient to make the heart of every 
 Irish nationnlist jubilant with joy. I announced In my 
 last to you llie death of Ireland's noble son — Hogan; 
 and a matter wliicli happened at his funeral has re- 
 moved, blotted out, destroyed ray antipathy to old 
 Trinity. 
 
 As the remains of poor Hogan were passing the col- 
 lege, the students, headed by their professors, turned 
 out in cap and gown, and forming lines, passed by the 
 hearse containing the relics of our lamented country- 
 ;-nan, removing their caps as a token of respect, and 
 proceeding to the head of the funeral cortege took 
 tlicir position. The procession then solemnly wended 
 its way to Glassnevin, in which you and I have spent 
 many sad, but not unpleasant hours. On arriving 
 there, the students formed in two lines with uncovered 
 heads, the hearse and procession passing between them 
 into the cemetery. 
 
 This was a great tribute on the part of these 
 young men, the representatives of the future aris- 
 tocracy of Ireland. Many a wet cheek was ob- 
 served as we passed this noble body of young men. 
 This tribute of respect to Ireland's great sculptor, 
 has blotted out my previous feeling, and leads me 
 to hope better things of old Trinity. 
 
 It is said that Napoleon intends again to visit 
 Victoria. You must not be deceived by this and 
 fall into the opinion that the difficidty between 
 Erance and England is removed. Such is not the 
 ease, whatever the papers may say to the contrary. 
 If he does visit her majesty, it is only in pursuance 
 of that line of policy which is characteristic of his 
 eventful career. The feeling of animosity on the 
 part of France, is as deadly and deep-seated as 
 ever. It is possessed'by all classes of Frenchmen, 
 from the noblese to the peasant, and will manifest 
 itself in a war with England before the snow- 
 again caps the vine elad hills of that beautiful 
 country. 
 
 The condition of the famishing peasantry in Don- 
 egal, has been inquired into so minutely by the 
 special agents from our Dublin press, as to leave no 
 room for the denials of the advocates of Landlord 
 tyranny, after all the efforts of Baron Pennyfather, 
 and the landlord minions to cover over this last 
 great act of despotism. 
 
 I wish here to remark that it seems very strange, 
 while we arc receiving large sums of money from the 
 people of the British Provinces, we have received 
 comparatively nothing ftom the United States, for 
 our poor suffering fellow eounti7mcn. In the Brit- 
 ish Provinces, the highest dignitaries of the church 
 have contributed their welcome aid for tbe relief of 
 our famishing brethren of the North — in your boast- 
 ed Republic you have done . Have we no 
 
 claim upon you ? Has your change of government 
 changed also the nature which you once possessed ? 
 We shall see. I cannot write more. 
 
 AVONJIOUE. 
 
 BnooKi.YJf, Long Island, April 20th, 1858, 
 Editor of the Irish Miscellany: — 
 
 Sir, — I am a young Irishman, full of patriotism 
 
 a lover of my childhood's home, and your very 
 
 valuable paper, to which I have been a subscriber 
 since its issue. I have retained a weekly number 
 for myself and forwarded one to my friends in the 
 laud of my birth. 
 
 I look upon your journal as a paper worthy of 
 every Irishman's aid. It is one that will flourish 
 
 when others are in oblivion. It is the only paper 
 that an Irishman wants to peruse on a Sunday af- 
 ternoon and read to his children. It is both in- 
 stmetiTe, interesting, historical and amusing, and 
 affords an Irishman a true idea of his country, his 
 race and his creed. It also instructs hirainthc 
 haps and mishaps of his adopted land. 
 
 Can you not favor us with views of some of the 
 old monasteries in the neighborhood of my child- 
 hoods home, viz: the steeple of Kilmaclough, be- 
 youd Gort, the monastery of Clare in the Island 
 Lake on the road to Quim, &c? I would like to 
 let my friends in Ireland see them. 
 
 Yours respectfully, 
 
 Hakky Lile. 
 
 [We shall endeavor to meet the desires of oitr 
 correspondent, at the earliest conTenicnce. — Ed. 
 I. M.] 
 
 Chaklestown, April 36th, '58. 
 Editor of the Irish Miscellany : — 
 
 TheFenclon Literary Association of this city gave 
 an exhibition on the above evening, which, we are 
 happy to say was fully attended. The exercises 
 consisted of declamations, dialogues, and the laugh- 
 able farce of 'Paddy the Piper.' The 'Sailor Boy's 
 Dream,' by Mr. John Bowell, and 'Dick Dialey's 
 Stump Speech' by Mr. James McCaffcrty, Jr., were 
 excellent. The farce was very good, and a credit 
 to the Association; the characters of Paddy the 
 Piper and Dick the Birdcateher were finely render- 
 ed, and were a model for some of the old actors of 
 your eity. The whole, in fact, was first rate, and 
 we hope it will not be long before we have the 
 pleasure of again witnessing the endeavors ot the 
 members of the association. * 
 
 NANA SAHIB. 
 
 As we have no doubt that many of our readers 
 would be glad to be acquainted with the parentage 
 and other antecedents of the man who bears this 
 blood stained name, we propose in the present arti- 
 cle, to give a brief sketch of him. 
 
 Nana Sahib, Bajah of Bithoor, whose correct 
 name is Sree Munt Dhoondoo Punt — is the eldest 
 son by adoption of the late Badjee Bao, ex-Peish- 
 ma of the Mahrattas. 
 
 For many years previous to his death, Badjee Kao 
 had been a dethroned pensioner of the East India 
 Company. When in the fulness of his power, he 
 had, as a native prince, assisted the East India Com- 
 pany in their war against Tipoo Sahib, the tiger of 
 Seringapatam ; and, as a reward for his doing so, 
 the Company, after years of strife with him — after 
 negociations, and exactions, and treaties, and vio- 
 lations of these treaties on their part — contrived, in 
 1817, to get hold of his dominions. After numerous 
 and fierce conflicts, Badjee Rao, at the head of 8,000 
 men, and with an advantageous post, was prepared 
 to do battle for the sovreignty of the Deccan ; when 
 Brigadier Sir- John Malcolm, who commanded the 
 British army, sent a flag of truce to him, with i)ro- 
 posals for a surrender. 
 
 'The proposals made on the part of Sir John Mal- 
 colm were, that Badjee Rao, the Peishwa of the 
 Mahrattas, should renounce his sovereignty alto- 
 gether ; that he should eome within twenty-four 
 hours,— with his family and alimited number of his 
 adherents and attendants, into the British camp ; 
 that they should there be received with honor and 
 respect ;' that he should be located in the holy city 
 of Benares, or In some other sacred place in Hindos- 
 tan ; that he should have a liberal pension from the 
 East company for himself and his family ; that his 
 old and attached adherents should be provided for ; 
 and that the pension to be settled tipon himself and 
 his family should not be less than eight lacs of ru- 
 pees—that is £80,000 per .innum. 
 
 After long and anxious deliberation with hisprime 
 ministers and other great officers of state the Peishwa 
 
204 
 
 IRISn mSCELLANY. 
 
 accepted those proposnts — went with his fnniily and 
 adherents into thi' Urilisli cimip — and ]iitliour was 
 afterwords nn.-i'^ied as his rcsidiiiee. Tlie Kiist In- 
 dia Company, with tlieir usual grasping and illibend 
 sjiirit of eovetousness, were displeased with Sir John 
 Malcolm for granting these terms. Hut they, and 
 the (iovemor-General, Lord Ifardinge, could not 
 recede from them ; and they took care to limit 
 the stipulated allowance to the smallest sum men- 
 tioned in the treaty — namely, eight lacs of rupees, 
 or £80,000 per annum. 
 
 We have stated that the pension was to bo con- 
 ferred upon Itadjee IJao and his family. Now, be- 
 fore we proceed further, we must mention that, by 
 the Hindoo Shastcrs, or scriptures, there is a feaiful 
 doom awarded against those who die childless, that 
 doom is, the being consigned, after death, ' to a 
 place called Put, a place of horror, to which the 
 nutnes of the childless arc supposed to go, there to 
 be tormented with hunger and thirst, for want of 
 those oblations of food and libations of water, at 
 prescribed periods, which is the pious, and, indeed, 
 indispensable duty of a living son to offer.' 
 
 Such are the principles of the Hindoo religion 
 with regard to the want of natural male issue. Now 
 the same principles, in order to remedy the defect, 
 permit the system of adoption where natural issue 
 fails. It was in accordance with this that liadjee 
 Eao, in his old age, finding himself naturally child- 
 less as to male issue, by his will declared Nana Sa- 
 liib to be his eldest son, heir, and representative. 
 
 In liis day, Badjee Ilao, as chief of the powerful 
 Mahratta nation, had been a great sovereign. He 
 survived his downfall — exercising civil and criminal 
 jurisdiction, on a limited sciilc, at Bithoor — thirty- 
 live years. On the 2Sth of January, 1851, he died. 
 
 No sooner was his death made officially known, 
 than Lord Dalhousie tabled a niijiuteat the council 
 board of Calcutta, ruling that the pension, express- 
 ly gnaranteed to the great Badjee Kao, and his 
 family, should not be continued to the latter. Na- 
 na Sahib, Badjee Kao's widow, and the other mem- 
 bers of his family, were naturally stricken Avith grief 
 and terror. They saw themselves reduced to pov- 
 erty. They had no other pecuniary resource than 
 some trifling sum which Badjee Kao had left bcliind 
 him. 
 
 On the 24th of June, 18.51, Nana Sahib forwarded 
 a memorial to the lieutenant-governor of the North- 
 West IVovinccs of India on the subject. In reply, 
 he was told that the pension could not be continued, 
 but a certain tract of land would be his for life. The 
 commissioner of Bithoor, a i)ublic officer of high 
 rank and standing, and who knew the circumstances 
 and claims of the ex-l'eishwa's family, forwarded an 
 urgent appeal on their behalf, but, ui a letter from 
 the secretary of the Oovcnior-Ucneral, of date Sep- 
 tember 2Uh, ISol, he received a severe reprimand 
 for so doing. His recommendation was stignmtised 
 as ' unc.iUed for iind unwarrantable.' 
 
 After some further efforts in India, Nana Sahib 
 addressed the Court of Directors, at Leadcnhall St. 
 in England. His appeal to them was dated the 29th 
 of December, 18.52. 
 
 In the eyes of the East India Company, the ap- 
 peals of native pruices of India do not seem to have 
 been matters of much consequence. Tlie Company 
 appear to have considered that it added to their 
 dignity to have the advocates of such princes wait- 
 ing in their ante-rooms. Somewhere about Decem- 
 ber, 1853, the Company sent back Nana Sahib to 
 the Oovemnient in India, and the result was that 
 nothuig was done. 
 
 It would appear that Nana Sahib, with smooth 
 and gentle manners, unites superior abilities ; and 
 that to these abilities he adds passions of the strong- 
 est and most vindictive nature. His sjMrit is high, 
 and his vehemence of the most determined charac- 
 ter. At the period of the breaking out of tho mu- 
 tiny wliich has rendered his name infamous, he 
 
 Becms to have become a monomaniac on the subject 
 of what he believed to be his wrongs. 
 
 In the preceding sketch — subject, of course, to 
 correction — we have endeavored to state facts, not 
 with a view to advocating any eaune, but simply 
 for a purjiose of communicating to our readers in- 
 formation as to some of the numerous causes which 
 have led to the dreadful events whicli have recently 
 occurred in the East. 
 
 ^\'e have been informed that an Oriental, named 
 .V/.iniullah, was in London, in 18;)5, for the puqjose 
 of making a last appeal in behalf of his employer, 
 Nana Sahib. He lodged in a respectable i)rivate 
 hotel in George street, Hanover square, where a 
 friend of ours, living in the same house, formed his 
 acquaintance, was entertained by him in gentleman- 
 like style at diimer, and found hira a well-bred, 
 agreeable person, of good intelligence about Eng- 
 lish manners. Our friend, on lately revisiting the 
 house, learned from its i)roprlctor that the polite 
 Azimullah, before deiiarting from England, showed 
 sj-mptoms of a moody and soured feeling, and let 
 fall several hints to the effect, that England would 
 yet regret the manner in which he had used his 
 master. This same Azimullah has since appeared 
 in the dismal transactions connected with the de- 
 struction of the Cawnpore garrison. — Chambers' 
 Journal. 
 
 I'rom IliC Dublin Culiic Union. 
 RELICS OF OLD READINGS AND COSSIPINCS. 
 
 NEW SliKIKS — NO. 1. 
 
 Tho Inn at Kilbcnny. 
 Every little town and village in Ireland h.ns its own 
 epitomised history, not only of tbe events of the ncver- 
 to-bc-forgottcn year of 17'J8, but of a scries of consec- 
 utive instances of Irish suffering and Irish valor, which, 
 if collected, would form a volume that would force 
 nationality down the throat of the most Anglified 
 Irisliman. Will somebody or anybody help us to 
 com|jile such a liistory of Ireland? Let them but note 
 down Muthenticatcd facts, or marked traditions, eluci- 
 datory of Celtic phsacs of life, habits, or manners, or 
 little episodes in their own or their neighbors' families, 
 illustrative of trying scenes of national trouldes; or 
 tests ff faith and fidelity in tlic matters of creed or 
 country, and no matter how feeble the attempt, if 
 truth guide them, wo will be glad to hear from the 
 humlilcsc correspondents. The history of '98 is only 
 to be collected from village to village. That history 
 has entered into the souls of the peasantry, and has 
 been dniy transmitted, as a national heir-loom of 
 wrong, from generation to generation — yes, mention 
 but tlio year, and out flows a torrent of bitter or ex- 
 ultant traditions, which tend ttrongly ami more fondly 
 to bind the sacred and fascinating links which unite 
 Irishmen together — the priesthood and tlie people. 
 But as wc do not aspire to deal at all in didactic lit- 
 erature, and as we had much rather, after tho usual 
 fashion of our 'gossipings,' tell our storj- and be done 
 with it, we will therefore take up the annals of a single, 
 humble Irish village, and proceed lo illustrate what wc 
 wish, and what we mean: — 
 
 KILnKNNY. 
 
 One of the least presuming localities in the Land is 
 the village of Kilbenny, yet, although wc have taken 
 it up at a venture, wc find it full nf national traditions. 
 Tcoplc living in the hamlet, this very hour, can tell 
 you of an inn or carman's stage, which occupied a 
 central position there in 1798, and which was the scene 
 of many a stirring event — here is one of them. 
 
 It was a fair day in the village, and the little inn 
 had had a bustling time of it — bargains were clenched, 
 monies were disbursed, flagons were emptied, conten- 
 tions were digested, nuptial matches were concocted, 
 tears were shed, hands were shaken and re-shaken, 
 men and women had kissed each other a thousand 
 times over in the exuberance of tlieir affectionate 
 friendship. Let me not be misunderstood — in Mun- 
 step, men kiss and embrace each other, a la Francais, 
 when the drop softens the heart to melting tenderness, 
 and matrons hug each other, under the iuflucuce of 
 
 gcnilo potationn, until, in a concatenation of blinsfnl 
 peace and neighborly harmony, they leave the houses 
 of entertainment; and their several businesses at the 
 fair being transacted, they ipiietly turn llieir steps 
 homeward, garrulously recounting llio profits and 
 losses cf tho day in joyous rivalry, until the village is 
 deserted ajid the roads alive with moving masses of 
 the great liunian throng. 
 
 In the little inn already mentioned, sat a solitary, 
 burly farmer, discussing the merits of some humble 
 fare placed before him on the long deal table occupy- 
 ing the whole length of tho apartment. The repast 
 was not a very dainty one, nor yet a heavy one, there- 
 fore it was soon disijatched, and the man was in tho 
 act of paying his bill of fare when a new comer en- 
 tered the room; he was a fine build of a man, of the 
 respectabie farmer class, wearing the top-boot and the 
 caped riding-coat, and carrying in his hand a heavy 
 thong-whip, decjily silver-laden at the liandlc. llo 
 was six feet six inches in height, and made in propor- 
 tion, with a fine, bold, manly bearded face, and an 
 open and generous expression of countenance. Tho 
 two men recognised each other at a glance; they were 
 blood relations, and of the famous family of tho 
 O'AIahony's. 
 
 'Any news, Dcrmod?' asked the tall man. "None, 
 Tom, but that I have a cajjtain of light dragoons bil- 
 letted on me, and although I hate the color of his coat, 
 begor, I can't help saying he's the most rolicking and 
 ofl-handed fellow of his kind I ever met with. Whin 
 I was coming away in the morning, ).e wi;s throwing 
 a sledge with some of the boys, and moslha — only 
 they would be ashamed to be outdone by an English- 
 er, though for the matter of that he says he was born 
 Scotch, faith he was likely to bring disgrace on Tippc- 
 rary. Tlicy wiastled a heat, too, with him, but Paddy 
 Condon got angry, as he always does, and was 
 nigh hurting him. They then took to leaping a bog- 
 hole, hop-stcp-and-jurap, and by my own sow!, Tom, 
 avick, he put them to tlie ])in of tlieir collar.' 
 
 ' Don't be too free with him, l)urmod,' said the tall 
 man, sententiously ; ' the Sagum Dheargs are treach- 
 erous — we have no right to trust them an inch, any 
 way.' 
 
 ' Begor, Tom,' persisted his gossip, ' if you knew 
 him and saw his ways, you'd like him for all that ' 
 
 •Men of his class, and foes of mine, I always stand 
 away from. Our roads are dilVercnt, and our countries 
 of two colors, so opposite to one another, that I never 
 liked to see them mixed tog<:tlicr,'and Tom O'Mahony 
 sat down, and called for a loaf and a pot of ale. 
 
 ' Tom, you were always a rock of sense, and there 
 can be no harm in following your advice, any how] 
 So, good-bye, and God bless you; I suppose you'll 
 turn in, when you're crossing the fields home, and 
 shake hands with the old woman and young ones. The 
 captain is dining with the Galtcc wolf today, so his 
 red coat can't offend you.' 
 
 ' I'll do that same, Dermod, so take care of yourself 
 till then.' And so the men parted. 
 
 Tom O'Mahony's gossip was not long gone, when 
 the door of the apartment was violently dashed open, 
 and in stalked a number of soldiers ; they were light 
 dragoons, eight mcu in all. 
 
 They immediately approached the table — the only 
 one in the low long room where O Maliony was dis- 
 cussing his bread and ale — and seemed by their inso- 
 lent movements to expoel that he would retire at their 
 apjicaranee. 
 
 O'Mahony never moved. 
 
 They tossed the chairs about and began to look fe- 
 rocious. 
 
 O'Mahony never heeded. 
 
 ' I say, fellow,' at last exclaimed one of the party — 
 'Are the king's troops to wait your leisure ? Or do 
 you expect to be our guest ?' 
 
 ' A public inn is for public use,' replied O'Mahony, 
 looking up at the speaker very ipiietly — ' and as for 
 the rest, you are not over civil, let me tell you.' 
 
 ' Why, damn you, you Popish Kebel,' — cried out 
 another, ' do you refuse to leave the table at our bid 
 ding.' 
 
 ' I tell you what,' said O'Mahony ; ' Popery and 
 Rebellion are dilfcrent suKjects to the matter now be- 
 tween us — my dinner is just finished — a few minutes 
 more — and take your tiu:n — but dine I will — and finish. 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 205 
 
 mvilinner, too— if thoking ami nil liis royal guarils 
 giivu the sniiio linso to me as ye liavo done.' 
 
 A loud laii{{li of scorn ami derision followed tliis 
 resolute aniioHiU'Cment — and the stoniest of tlie l)and 
 seized the speak^'r l>y the neck and endeavored to drag 
 him from liis cliair. 
 
 O'Jlahouy drove his clhow into the niffianly assail- 
 ant's stoniaeh, and sent him gasping and rcelini; seve- 
 n\l feet hack into the room where lie tnnihlcd — and 
 then springing up and tossing off his heavy riding 
 coat, lie suddenly confronted his majesty's brave and 
 loyal troops. 
 
 p"' Any two of yon ! — any two of you ! stand out hero 
 before me,' lie exclaimed, ' and two after two, as long 
 as ye arc standing. The soldiers looked at him vvitli 
 astonishment — and so tliey might, his naturally huge 
 figure — as he now stood erect, with blazing eye, and 
 scorching brow — and chest as ample and expanded as 
 a Hercules — was a sight not ouly to create astonish- 
 ment but inspire alarm. The man he felled lay sprawl- 
 ing and groaning upon the floor. 
 
 ' Any two of you ! — any two of you !' he reiterated. 
 The heroes still hesitated. 
 
 'Cowards ! — and scoundrels !' he continued, and he 
 flung the rinsings of a large pewter ale pot amongst 
 them. 
 
 King George's soldiers drew their swords. 
 But O'Mahony's blood was up — and numbers were 
 nothing — and death was nothing. 
 
 ' Any odds ! any weapons ! Hurrah for Tipperary ! 
 and the blue sky over it ! Come on !' 
 
 ' Down with the Popish Rebel ! down with him — 
 down with him,' yelled out the warriors, as seven of 
 them with naked swords rushed upon their intended 
 victims. 
 
 O'Mahony had seized in his left hand a heavy chair 
 by the back rungs, and hoisting its feet into the air 
 made it act as a shield, to parry off or receive the fierce 
 sword strokes. In his right hand, he held the stout 
 massive pewter quart — and planting his back against 
 the wall, received his antagonists as they advanced 
 with so fatal a precision botli of guard and blow, that 
 ho very soon thinned their numbers, for, as each sol- 
 dier, and sometimes two, cut at him, he thrust the 
 chair into their faces, and then having the great supe- 
 riority of towering height over them, he beat them 
 down upon the heads with the edged pewter — leveling 
 a man at every blow, and leaving several of them 
 stunned, senseless and bleeding at his feet. And now, 
 O'Mahony, in turn became the assailant — whilst only 
 three of the Sagnm Dheargs, who hung behind backs, 
 were left unwounded for the combat. These he at- 
 tacked most furiously — striking with both chair and 
 quart — until man after man fell beneath his tremen- 
 dous battering. To this terrible fight there were no 
 spectators, for the dragoons — certain of their victory 
 and the murder of their victim — had locked the doors 
 when the fray began, lest anybody might come to 
 O'Mahony's assistance. 
 
 Their sanguinary intent, however, had the opposite 
 effect — and was O'Mahony's salvation — for it gave 
 time to his friends outside, to warn him that the re- 
 maining men of the dragoon troops had juct entered the 
 inn and were seeking their comrades. Mahony was 
 busy breaking the swords of his craven foes across his 
 knees, when he heard the intelligence from a young 
 peasant who had mounted up upon the window-sill 
 outside, to get a peep at the dreadful scrimmage he 
 beard going on within. 
 
 ' Hurrah for Tipperary !' he cried, with a wild exult- 
 ing cry — like an Indian war-whoop — and lightly open- 
 ing the window at the end of the room, ho piungcd 
 head foremost out upon the roadway. As he picked 
 himself up, he heard the thundering at the door still 
 going on. ' The popish rebel bids you all a very good 
 evening, he chuckled. — as with hasty strides he made 
 his way across the open country, in the direction of his 
 gossip, whom we introduced to the reader in the be- 
 ginning of our hasty sketch. 
 
 Di-rmod Mahony was standing at the door of his 
 own comfortalile and cajiacious farm-house when he saw 
 his tall relative appro.iching in hot haste — he saw, too, 
 at a glance, that his face and hands were bloody, and 
 his clothes draggled and torn. His first impulse was 
 to seize a heavy blackthorn bludgeon which lay close 
 at hand — his next to accost his gossip whom lie hasten- 
 ed to meet. 
 
 pf 'Are the Condons and Pitzgibbons up again? ho 
 asked fiercely, 'or what's in the wind, Tom, that you 
 have so many marks of assault and battery on you!' 
 
 'Come into the house, Dermod, and I'll tell you all 
 about it.' 
 
 After the whole scene at the inn was detailed — dur- 
 ing the recital of which, Dermod could hardly contain 
 himself with exultation, nor avoid interrupting the 
 narrator very many times, with buffets on the shoul- 
 ders, by way of approbarioQ — the two friends sat down 
 together, to consider what was best to be done undi r 
 the circumstances. Various were the plans suggested 
 to meet the investigation that was sure to follow the 
 fiinnidable onslaught mono on his majesty's military 
 subjects. The questions of defiance or defence wcio 
 severally and warmly diocnsscd — the probability or 
 
 improbability of fair play or common justice to bo had 
 at the liiinds of a magistrtite — the chance of the sold- 
 iers kecjiing their own secret through shame — or, and 
 what was most usual at that time in Ireland — the al- 
 most absolute certainty of their making an unrnercifal 
 charge against their assaulier through the assurance 
 that there would be no law for the mere Irish, no mat- 
 ter what was the accusation against them. 
 
 The night fell before half these knotty points were 
 unravelled — indeed, the end of their discussion left 
 them jnst where they began — Tom O'Mahony putting 
 a finisher on the whole matter by declaring that if 
 there was any manliness left in the Englishers, they 
 would he beating about his house to look for satisfac- 
 tion for the drubbing he gave their cowardly compan- 
 ions — and that, accordingly, he would be moving 
 homeward to put his stout household in order of 
 battle. 
 
 This sudden determination, however, was pnt a stop 
 to, by a new event — which was nothing less than the 
 arrival of the English cap tain, who quietly walked into 
 the room where the two worthies were standing. 
 ' Lot us tell him our story ' suggested Dermod. 
 ' With all my heart,' replied his gossip, 
 Dermod, accordingly, told the captain the whole af- 
 fair — and 'Tom told it over again — and the captain 
 listened to both wiih the greatest interest and atten- 
 tion. 
 
 ' All we want is justice,' exclaimed Dermod. 
 ' And a fair hearing andfiiir play,' added Tom. 
 ' And that ye shall have,' promised their guest, warm- 
 ly. I'll hold a court-martial on these fellows of mine, 
 to-morrow — and if matters be as ye state, you must 
 have more than fair play — for I will punish them to a 
 man.' 
 
 The two friends thanked their military judge — and 
 Tom was prevailed upon to stay where he was that 
 night, in order to be at hand on the investigation of 
 the next morning. 
 
 The next day the court-martial met — it consisted of 
 the English captain — the Earl of Kingston — two in- 
 fantry lieutenants from Michelstown — and an ensign 
 of horse. 
 
 The eight soldiers were in attendance, as complain- 
 ants — it was very easy to distinguish them from the 
 rest of their companions who crowded the farmer's 
 dwelling — tor it was in O'Mahony house the proceed- 
 ings took place. The eight men were plaistered and 
 bandaged — heads — faces — and hands — so that they 
 looked more like patients fresh from hospital for med- 
 ical inspection, than witnesses in a court of justice. 
 But what was O'Mahony's astonishment, when upon 
 the call of the Earl of Kingston, one of the wounded 
 men stepped forward and made a direct charge to the 
 effect, that O'Mahcmy, in a state of wild intoxication, 
 and after expressing his haired of his majesty and his 
 soldiers, bulled all sons of missiles at himself and his 
 comrades, as they sat peaceably refreshing themselves 
 at the inn in the village. 
 
 One after one, the remaining seven men corrobo- 
 rated the statement of their fellow — without the least 
 hesitation or reserve. 
 
 Tom O'Mahony was thunderstricken — he could not 
 believe his ears — he could not credit his senses. 
 
 'Liars and cowards!' he exclaimed, his huge figure 
 dilating to a gigantic size, with passion and indigna- 
 tion. 'Do you dare to add perjury to the rest of your 
 crimes? Did you'not strike me, as I sat at the table 
 of the inn?' (Here he dragged the man forward whom 
 he at once identified among the rest, and looked into 
 his face, as he interrogated him. 
 
 The soldier trembled in his grasiJ, and called for 
 help. 
 
 'Seize O'Mahony!' cried out the Earl of Kings- 
 ton, rising from his seat, 'seize, guard, and hand- 
 cuff him.' 
 
 The armed guard who lined the room, advanced 
 at the command, but the captain waived them back 
 with his hand, and turning to the other members of 
 the court, observed in alow voice, 
 
 'I firmly believe that this O'Mahony is belied here, 
 and in faith, if there be not truth and honesty both in 
 his face and deportment, I'll never trust an Irishman's 
 physiognomy any more whilst I brcalhe.' And then, 
 turning to the enraged accused, 'Come, sir, he ex- 
 claimed, 'no more violence on your peril; state your 
 defcni e to the court, and see that you state nothing 
 but what you can well substantiate.' 
 
 'I have no witnesses,' said O'Mahony, doggedly. 
 The earl laughed malTcioiisly. 
 
 'But I have proofs,' he continued, 'proofs strong 
 enough to confound sneerers; (a look of defiance at his 
 enemy) Dermod, bring in the chair and the pewter 
 i|iiart.' 
 
 Both were brought into the room, and jilaccd before 
 the court. And then O'Mahony began his statement 
 of the facts connected with the uncijual fray; and so 
 modestly, and yet so manfully and simply, did he de- 
 tail the whole proceeding that the conn, with the ex- 
 ception of the Earl of Kingston, were fully satisfied 
 t lat his statement was tke true one. 
 
 The earl h.atcd O'Mahony, because ho feared him; 
 lie feared a family whose conucctions, position, and iu- 
 
 domitahlu indopendenco refused ever and always to 
 crouch to him, or submit to his arbitrary oppression; 
 a family who commanded the respect of the whole 
 country around, and an attack upon whom was not 
 likely to be submitted to with either silence or subpiis- 
 sion. 
 
 'Gentlemen,' said the earl, spitefully, 'what if he 
 hacked the chair himself, and battered the pewter ves- 
 sel, into the bargain. I think him cupahlc of both:' 
 
 Dermod clapped his broad hand over the mouth of 
 the accused, or the noble earl would have heard a 
 burst of indignant scorn that would have witlicred him 
 where ho sat. 
 
 The captain noted the provocation and the effect of 
 it, and was more and more convinced of ihe man's in- 
 iiocence. 'You have no witnesses, O'Mahony,' he 
 said; 'have you no proof, beyond your own testimony, 
 that would throw any new light upon this matter.' 
 
 'Ask that question of your soldiers, too,' retorted 
 O'Mahony; ' is not my testimony as trustworthy as 
 their's.' 
 
 'But not more so,' sneered the earl ; 'eight men 
 swear against you, is your bare testimony — a rebel's 
 testimony — to outweigh even the simple assertion of a 
 number of the king's servants. Gentlemen, (turning 
 to the court,) the world would not be the worse, in 
 general, of getting rid of this man, nor the parish of 
 Kilbenny in particular. I believe him guily.' 
 
 Here Dermod's hand again did good service; but the 
 accused, insulted and ill-treated man, could no longer 
 be restrained — ' I have listened to you. Earl of Kin^'S- 
 ton, wolf of the Galtees, I have marked you thirsting 
 for my blood ; you have, with impunity, called mo 
 bar, pcijurer and knave; you have stated that the 
 world would be well rid of me ; and you would hang 
 me outside my gossip's door this moment if you could"; 
 but mark me, wolf, you'll die yourself first ; the earth 
 is sick of your cruelty and tyranny, and the curses of 
 a whole people hang over you night and dav.' 
 
 'I believe him guilty;' repeated the earl, w'lth a brow 
 as dark as night. 
 
 ' I do not,' said the captain, excitedly. 
 
 ' Nor I,' 'nor I,' 'nor I,' added the other members 
 of the court. 
 
 'God bless you, gentlemen, for your opinion, at 
 any rate, no matter how the affair goes; but I've 
 another word or two to say, that I had till now to- 
 tally forgotten. I told you I had beaten down these 
 men, one after another; I told you that when the 
 fight was over, they all lay sprawling at mv feet' — 
 
 'No more of that stuff,' interrupted the earl. 
 
 'But I did not tell you (a look of scom at his 
 malignant enemy,) that I wrung the swords from 
 their hands — their eight swords — and smashed them 
 across my knee; now, captain, order these weap- 
 ons to be produced. Missiles flung from my hands 
 could not break eight swords.' 
 
 The eight men now shuffled in amongst their 
 fellows, and there was at once great confusion to 
 be observed in their proceedings; indeed, so clum- 
 sily did they manage their manoiuvres, that every 
 one in the room saw they were getting a loan of 
 the swords of the guard to exhibit as their own. 
 
 Dermod pointed out the fact to the captain, who in- 
 stantly ordered the Serjeant in attendance to produce 
 the broken swords, and also to call out all the men of 
 his troop, fully armed, in order that no trick should be 
 attempted to conceal the guilty parlies. This put an 
 end to all further concealment — the broken swords were 
 produced — O'Mahony's case fully proved — the eight 
 men convicted of their infamous fJUsehoods, perjuries 
 and cowardice — and the Earl of Kingston, sulky and 
 abashed at the vanishing of his enlminating bojics. to 
 get rid of a troublesome enemy forever, dragged his 
 hat down over his brows and was silent. 
 
 ' Eight armed men against one!' indignantly com- 
 mented the captain, pointing to the convicted cowards, 
 and then looking towards O'lMahony with admiration: 
 ' Serjeant, take these eight scoundrels away, give them 
 double drill lor as many months as there" are scoun- 
 drels of them, and then get them from under my com- 
 mand, and in some poltroon raising squad, intended 
 for some locality outside the three kingdoms, they are 
 a disgrace to the service. And as to you O'JI.aliony, 
 join my troop and I will pledge you my honor to get a 
 commission for you before the year ends. Why, man, 
 you are six feet six inches if you arc a foot. 
 
 'Thanks, captain, many thanks to you, but when 
 I do enlist, if ever I do, it must be in an Irish reg- 
 iment, and of different colored facings to any from 
 over the water.. 
 
 'The United Isishmcn,' snarled ont the Earl of 
 Kingston. 
 
 'I wish to heaven there such beings in this coim- 
 try as United Irishmen,' retorted O'Mahony. 
 
 'Your one yourself,' muttered the carl, and 
 you'll swing for it yet; you'll die in a hurry, de- 
 pend upon it.' 
 
 'May the prayer happen the preacher,' laughed 
 O'Mahony, as he made his bow to tlic court, shook 
 his gossip'.s hand, and took liis departure home- 
 ward. 
 
206 
 
 IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 Tae Imsii Famine. — All that tlio imaginiition of | vci^ly wounded in tlic leg, and Iih horse twico wound 
 Dante has linuri'd — nil that iIk> pens of Thucydides or cd; three sowars arc wounded (slightly,) one private 
 Boccaccio have descrihcd— all that the pencil of Key- j fiSth l{c),'inient slij;htly wounded. About ci).'hty dead 
 nolds has pictured of tlic terrible and pathetic — was | bodies of the enemy were counted by my oflicers, all 
 realised, and more than realise 1, in that scene of un- | Sepoys. Where all hehared well, it is diHicult to par- 
 utterahle woe. Often when a cotu>nc was observed to tinlarizc, but I think it due to Major, the Hon. J. J. 
 \ye deserted, and the wonted s«ioko no longer seen to Bonrke, to hear testimony to the K«"'"it and able 
 issue from its roof — when the anxious neinhbons ' manner in which ho led on the skirmishers and drove 
 opened the door, they fonnd the whole family lying j the enemy out of tho village of Chowra.' 
 
 dead in a circle, with the lew-horn infant still locked «-•••_► . 
 
 up in iLs mother's arms, hannj; drained the last drop 
 of nutriment in the iriofc embrace. Kumbers of peas- 
 ants dropped dowi on the wayside from pure exhaus- 
 tion when striving to reach the workhouse or tho near- 
 est goveinmeit works. A faithful doj; was some- 
 times found benide the body, emaciated and weak, but 
 truo to its trust even in death. 
 
 iTt.-.i, thou-h I 
 
 MISCELLANEA. 
 
 Doctrine is nothing bnt tlie .skin of truth, set up 
 and stBlfcd. 
 
 It is not well for a man to pray, cream ; and lire, 
 skim milk. 
 
 ADVERTISEMENTS, 
 
 SUBSCIUUE! SUUSCllIBE! SUBSCIUBE! 
 
 THE JIHSll MISCELLANY 
 
 PICTURE GALLERY. 
 
 InDDI K.MK 
 
 On Suturduy, the 
 
 ucll^ulJ^criU■^I,. t 
 ,illiiiKn,|.l, 
 
 ^lIlslluIlKUfl. 
 
 ^ll fi 
 
 ial .Mi 
 
 imvin^',' 
 
 "(,'. 
 
 n-l sh„rtl) l„-l,„, 
 I .'<:ir-ll.l(l, wIh. 
 •.llh.t.lurp. ^u| 
 ■ Ihc cuMiii ..|- ih, 
 
 Not vet iiuilo 
 
 Kur, fuUulul Ml iiiMi 
 
 The much hi\cd ri-i 
 
 And cliuscl lh« 
 
 oxicmled, 
 • tit tended, 
 r dilViided, 
 
 iS'aoiu, daughter of Enoch, was five hundred and 
 eighty years of age whrai she married. Take cour- 
 age, laiies. 
 
 ' Clara, did poor little Carlo have a pink ribbon 
 
 around Iris neck when yoa lost him ?' ' Yes, ves, 
 the farm-hoHses daring the winter, especially in the ,i,„ „„„, ,,■,.■ ,„„. , , . ,, _. ' 
 
 ,, " , ; _ ..,_ J . ^ tnc poor litJIo dear, have you seen him ? • No, not 
 
 A mournful scene was very frequently presented at ! 
 
 remote parts of the country, where tho cattle, deprived 
 of their wonted meal, were to be seen standing in si- 
 lence round the deserted door, occasionally giving a 
 low moan at the long-continued absence of the well- 
 known hands that were wont to nourish them, and 
 whose prostration had been so sudden that they had 
 neither strength to feed nor slay them. The wail of 
 starving children was to he heard on all sides begging 
 
 exactly — b«t here is a pink ribbon in the sausage.' 
 ' Dii rtie defendant approach the plaintiff seria- 
 tim ?" inqnired an attorney in a case of assault and 
 battery, the other day. 
 
 ' Xo, sir-oe,' was the reply ; ' he went at "cm with 
 a poker." 
 
 The following motion was made and carried at a 
 
 shidi prevent to 
 
 lluny,!. .pltudiU 
 
 ,' [II.- Kl.iriuu. (culio, 
 
 Kjilure nl Limerick, 
 
 iidi-.l tlie Irinh hurue, 
 
 hiiny ni^.e KuuH was 
 
 ■ ol Orange, rcnolved 
 
 >»r llii- country by a dilllvult 
 
 iirrit|,i the cunvoy, lie cuum 
 
 iiiiiuiiiiu, atlucked Vllliums 
 
 upclkd theiu to relreut bcfure 
 
 iiull«ij iu tile linudi) 01' Sars- 
 
 U|) in Irout ol it at l\illui 
 lroo|i», delcuted tliein mid co 
 tlie Irisli horse, leuviiic their 
 
 if !.'"!.'i",'^,'" "■'"''' '!';■ >•'"'''''""' »' I-imerick, SarsHcId knew 
 
 iil,i,>>il,l« I. 
 
 lliiouKh th. 
 
 nrry i 
 
 itli In 
 
 till 
 
 in vain of their parents the slender pittance on which I recent meeting of a colored parish in this city: 
 liad long supported life. A melancholy feature of the ' Mistur Modcratcr — In consekcns ob do full at- 
 timcs was exhibited in the long train of convoys, with j tendus at dis meetin', I moobe do meetin' next 
 
 provisions, which traversed the country on their way 
 from the seaports to the interior, escorted by long files 
 of infantry and cay.alry, round which the weeping vil- 
 lagers, with their children, crowded, supplicating for a 
 handful of meal to stay the pangs of hunger. The 
 scenes exhibited far exceeded in horror any thing yet 
 recorded in European history; for, in the nervous 
 words of Lord John Russell, it was 'a famine of the 
 thirteenth which had fallen on the population of the 
 tliirtecnth century-.' 
 
 ^^'ensday ebcnin' am postponed to dis Monday cbc- 
 nin' for do chois ob directors.' 
 
 A housemaid who was sent to call a gentleman to 
 dinner, found him engaged in using a tooth-brush. 
 ' 'Well, is he coming :' said the lady of the house, as 
 the servant returned. ' Yes, ma'am, directly,' was 
 the reply ; ' he's just sharpening his teeth.' 
 
 There was an adTcrtiscmcnt in the London Times 
 recently, for ' a dog that answers to the name of 
 Mustard.' Not difKcult to find such a dog ! Mus- 
 tard is the most natural companion to meat. Cut 
 a sandwich for him, and you will sec that Mustard, 
 if he is a well-bred dog, will come running in as 
 naturally as possible. 
 
 ' He who rises late may trot all day but never 
 overtake his business.' So said Dr. Franklin. A 
 contemporary says : ' 'Wc have watched those fel- 
 lows who are early risers, and as a general thing 
 they are the first chaps who go to the groceries of a 
 morning. It's all moonshine about the smartest and 
 greatest man being the early riser.' 
 
 A girl who had become tired of single blessedness, 
 wrote to her intended, thus : ' Dear Jim, cum rite 
 off if you are cummin at al, Ed Kelderman is insist- 
 in' that I shall have him, and he hugs and kisses 
 me so continually that I can't hold out much longer.' 
 We know a beautiful little blue-eyed girl, of some 
 three years old, who was nestled in her mother's 
 arms, at twilight, looking out at the stars. ' Moth- 
 er,' said she, ' it is getting dark !' ' And what makes 
 it dark, Caroline r' said her mother. « Because God 
 shuts his eyes !' replied the little poet. 
 A .short time since, a highwayman undertook to 
 He met Jones in a piece of woods 
 
 The 88tii Connaugiit Rangers. — To all who 
 feel a just pride in the fame and honor of one of the 
 most distinguished of our national regiments, the sub- 
 joined item of intelligence from the scat of war in 
 India, cannot hut be gratifying in the hi^'liest degree. 
 The S8ih, it will be seen, arc sustaining the reputation 
 won upon many a hard fought field in the Peninsula, 
 Uie Crimea, and, indeed, upon everj- occasion in which 
 they were engaged, from the formation of the corps at 
 the close of the last century down to this their last ex- 
 ploit in India. The Hon. Jlajor Bourke, whose name 
 is particularised in the general order, is u younger son 
 of the Earl of Mayo, and served with the 8Sth during 
 the whole of the campaign in the Crimea. 
 
 The following despatch from Lientenant-Colonel P. 
 V. Maxwell, C. B., 88th Regiment, commanding de- 
 tachment, addressed to Brigadier J. E. \V. Inglis, 
 commanding at Cawnpore, has been published by 
 order of the governor-general. It is dated camp Blioy- 
 neepore, Feb. 4, 1858: — 
 
 'Sir — I have the honor to report that the enemy 
 from Calpec attacked our position at live o'clock this 
 morning. From the nature of the ground, which is 
 much broken, and from the cover atl'ordcd by the 
 crops, which are high, it is impossible to compute , rob Major Jones 
 
 theirnumbers; but from the extent of ground which ; over in Jersey. He asked Jones for his pocket book 
 they occupied, they must have been in consid arable 1 Jones refused to yield. Highwayman than took | Sun Krai,ci>co 
 force. I advanced with five companies of the 8Sth | Jones by the neck aud undertook to choke him 
 
 Hud dcterinuied tu 
 
 ;!!'?;"■' '""."■ '"'. '"'I'"',' '""'" '" "" ehurged to their ut- 
 nioM caimMty ,„i,i i„il„-,ld.d li.evly in the earth, with the 
 whok- „l ihe h.it.ni.tce tiKMi whicli .l.o Idl into his hands. 
 A tni.ilHMiKlui.l lh.-.-lM,k wasaviilR'd and in a ll-«- wc- 
 
 mLiublHrajjiia-nti. lliis ^.all.„i l.m ,.|„„i,i„.d the Kur- 
 8hllooi,.s Kave new cuuruire I. ill,, I,i-li. ami added to 
 
 I nilh,';'.,''.';''"'"".'/."' "'V »■'""-"' t>a.MiHd. Tlie explo- 
 sion hliooli the '-arth lor miles around, and was heard ut au 
 immense distance. 
 
 It i» at thy moment of tlic exylosion of the English ar- 
 lillery winch our arust has sitztd upon for the subject of 
 his |i«ncil. "Ki*-vi wi 
 
 I'liis memorable event will be faithfully and accurately 
 portiayed. Jt liasnot hitherto, giv.u inspiration, a« lar as 
 we Clin leaiu to any of our Irish uriists, and shall now have 
 aiiioie jiiMicB done it. It will make a beautihil picture. 
 >i e Miaii iireseiit It to our readers on a sheet of line draw 
 Iran '"'''^'''' '''''""'"'*-" '''""' ""^ Miscellany, suitable for 
 Jl will at once be seen that we cannot do this without a 
 great outlay of capital. We expect to be reimburi-ed bv a 
 very largti addition to our subhcription list, as no iwrs'on 
 will be entitled to it who has not paid on or before the :jd 
 fromo "r'^v' "'"'i ^'^"''*' subscriptiou iu advance, dating 
 Kou .-^ub.-cnKri; » ill be supplied at Sl,50 for each plate. 
 H e are lesulM-il that our .-ub.-cribcrs shall pos^esl a 'pic- 
 ture gallery' worthy of the event,, we propose*^ to commtrn- 
 orate. ihi.swili be the hrti ul a ,-ene»of national ric- 
 TllitEBwe propo.-e i,re>eiiliiix gruli^ lo our regular sub..crib- 
 ■i will be ready early in 
 t yet decided on. We 
 riends who posfcss old 
 ish history, or portraits 
 • aid them to us. 'ihey 
 
 - „ .^■, „.,u ,r,arned. 
 
 Let 0111- friends see lo their sub.^criptionsin season. Our 
 Picture (..allcry will be ht lo adorn the walls of any ecutle- 
 man'shoiife in the cciunlry, and will, we ho|)e, eventually 
 I iluulis which are olteii met with. 
 or the lirst picture are almost com- 
 .solutely iiece.s,-ary that we should 
 t number ol plates we shall want. 
 lerelore. send iu their subscriptious 
 ul togii 
 
 ors the second j 
 October, the subject of 
 should leel obliged to ii 
 pictures of remarkable e 
 of distinguished Irislim, 
 shall be taken good care 
 
 ■lie tin 
 
 pleted. It will be i 
 know immediiitely tl 
 -i^et our subscribers 
 without delay, 
 
 ■ correct ad- 
 
 dress. We shall uot strike oa' any more copies timu are 
 ordered before the above date. 
 
 Will our Iriends of the press please notice this new fea- 
 ture in our publication, and wc will take care that their 
 sanctums are adorned w ith choice copies ol this uatioual 
 picture. 
 
 THE SOUTHERN CITIZEN, 
 
 5?I for SIX mouths, pa\ abl 
 
 Mr, Mitchell havi ' 
 the paper, a series i 
 ander U, Stephens of Gworgii 
 furuish an eutire history ol 
 
 H liich when conipleled will 
 
 THE IRISH TR PBLES OF 1848, 
 
 With their Causes and Consciiuenccs, 
 
 The .Southern Citizen will be the more interesting to both 
 American and lri.~h readers, ilesides these contributions 
 from Mr. Mitclul, the .Soulliern Cilizen will continue to 
 have its usual imiiiilily ol original matter upon political 
 
 '"■ iibjeci- prijiared by him. The circulation, 
 
 uid ciii.ytantly increasing, the proprietors 
 ill be much more extended by an announce- 
 
 iilioiis with remittances may be addrc.^edto 
 Knoxville, Teuuessec, or to any of the 
 
 lliough large 
 
 Regiment, two guns of Royal Artillery ('J-pounder) ■ down. Jones made fight and kept it up for about 
 under Captain Talbot, and fifty sowars under Licuten- half ,in hour. At the expiration of that time Jones 
 ant Thompson. We defeated the enemy, and had a caved, and the highwayman comi lenccd riffling his 
 running fight of four hours. They disputed every inch : pockets. The contents amounted to eighteen cents 
 of the ground, making a stand at Chowra, a village I 'Is that aU you've got r' 
 three miles from this place. Wc pursued them as 'Every cent." 
 
 long as possible, and they retreated across the river, ' What made vnn fl.rl.f =nl«T,„ j- .• „ 
 
 lno„\n^„„ ,u. K.^^i-,\. ■ 1- -I L ,1 " "ai mauc you tiglit SO long ? In the Kending Room can be found all the morning and 
 
 keep.ngup the file of their skirmishers to the veo' last. | • Didn't want to be exposed. Bad enough to have """"K r-pers. Ind pcriodicils of the day, together with 
 
 I am happv to sav mv casualties are but few T.ien nr,l,. r;„i,. .1 ^ '""S" •■""•"*- an extensne Lieuauv, lor the free aud exclusive use of 
 
 ,„ . 4, • • ■ "^"«""=« "« ""t "=«• ^leu- , only eighteen cents; but a great deal worse to have the Boaui.ius. 
 
 tenant lUompson, commanding the sowars, was sc- 1 the world know it ■ ^'- "• >^irangcre visitiug Boston, can always find this 
 
 House a Ilo.MK. 
 
 Milchel li 
 lollowing Age 
 
 S (i Courteniiy & Co, Charleston, SC; Thomas B O'Con- 
 nor, .Savaiiuah. Ga; .1 C Morgan, New Orleans, La; .las A 
 (ieiitry. (Richmond. Va: Alexander Ailamson. Washingtnn 
 cily: lallnniLT .'■. 1 ininir, Cincinnali, ( ); I'M lla\ertv,llU 
 l-'illluii sii, , I, N '1 : ,^ II (.iiL-lzel, ,'l.'i llainiliiM street. .Iliibile 
 Ala; l'„„j 1; Hum-, Mii—nic Hiiil.ling, .Molitgonierv. Ala: 
 i:...-s & T.,M, ,-y. li;l Nii->nu street. .\ V, tupplv dealeVs only 
 " ■ ' 'i James Mcljiun, 121 Kearney .»treet 
 
 Clubs of ten will be supplied with the paper for S16. 
 
 NOUTUERlf HOUSE, 
 
 KOUTH SgtJAIlK— BOSTON. 
 
 JOUN CLANCY PnoruiETOB. 
 
 This House has rooms equal to any first class Hotel, and 
 permanent or transient Hoarders oan be uccoininodated 
 nearly one half cheapyr than ttl any other House iu the 
 Citv 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 207 
 
 ADVEKTISEMENTS. 
 
 GEXKllAL TICKET OFFICE 
 
 — Foil TllK — 
 
 S UTJIERX AXD ^yESTERN STATES, 
 
 AND 
 
 THE C^VNADAS, 
 No. 2 ALBAin: Stueet, Boston. 
 
 EDWARD IJYAN, Agent. 
 
 N. B. — Pftssflfje to and from Liverpool, and Bills of Ex- 
 change on England, Ireland and ticottaud. 
 
 ai<M ly 
 
 SOUTH END CATHOLIC BOOK STORE, 
 
 And Depot for the Sale of the 
 
 METROPOLITAN A;fD YOUTHS' MAGAZINES. 
 
 WILLIAM KEATING, Agent, 
 
 8 1-2 Harrison Avenue, or at his New reriodical Store, 176 
 
 Harrison Avenue, Boston, Mass., 
 
 Whore a great variety of the most popular Books and 
 
 Papers earn he had at the very lowest prices, 
 
 WILL supply Clubs, Agents, Canvassers, &c., on the 
 same terms as the Puhlishers. The following arc 
 the terms— 3 copies will be .sent by mail, to one address, for 
 one year So; 6 copies for SIO; 13 copies for S'-O; 20 copies 
 for S30. 
 
 [C?=" On the receipt of P3, three eopies of the Catholic 
 Youth's Magazine and one copy of the Metropolitan will 
 be mailed regularly for one year. 
 
 (r?~ A few sets of the Magazines from the beginning, can 
 be had of the Agent. Also, all new books furnished as 
 soon as published. ap24 Smos 
 
 Just PnBLisuED. 
 
 HOME : ITS EULER AND INSTITUTIONS. 
 
 By John Francis Maguire, M.P. 
 
 Cloth extra, S1.25. D. & J. Sadliek & Co., 104 William 
 street. New York. 
 
 For sale by W. HicKEr, 128 Federal st, Boston. 
 
 air 
 
 3t 
 
 LBURNHAM, (forraerly junior partner in the firm of 
 , CtTRsUAV BuoTUBHS,) has taken the Old Stand, 58 
 & OiJ Cornhill, occupied by th« late Arm, and holds himself 
 in readiness to supply all orders with which he may be fa- 
 vored. 
 
 Ye Antique Booke Store still flourishetb, 
 
 As y tte dide in days of yore ; 
 
 And ye Burnham still caterethj 
 
 For ye lOTcrs of ancient lore. 
 
 al7 
 
 3t 
 
 SAMUEL ilASURY. 
 
 PHOTOGRAPH A!fD DAGUERREOTYPE 
 
 AETIST. 
 
 289 WAsniNOTON Street, 
 
 (Up one flight of stairs) 
 
 Boston. 
 Photographs taken of every size and fini.^hcd in Oil, Wa- 
 ter, India Ink and Pa.stel Colors. Daguerreotypes taken in 
 the most superior manner. myl 
 
 AMTLLIAMS & CO., Wholesale Agents, for the InisK 
 , Mi9CKLLA¥v. The Tiade supplied with Books, I'e- 
 riodicals and New.spapers. Special Agents for Harper & 
 Brothers Publications. No. 100 Washington street. 
 feb20 Boston. 
 
 THE IRISH VINDICATOR, 
 
 A WEEKLY NEWSPAPER, 
 
 The Best and Cheapest Published in Amekica. 
 
 MOST WONDERFUL SUCCESS, 
 
 and has been prononr.ccd by the Pre.«s and the Public to be 
 
 Bujierior to any other Irish Weekly in the United States. 
 
 It contains each week, the very 
 Latest News mou eveuv County in Ireland ; 
 Original and entertaining 
 STORIES AND ANECDOTES, 
 and a variety of Miscellaneous Reading matter, of a charac- 
 ter which cannot fail to elevate and chasten the intel- 
 lectual appetite. The Irish Vindicator is devoted 
 
 TO THE INTERESTS OF IRISHSIEN IN AMERICA, 
 and is so cheap as to be within the reach of the poorest. 
 
 ONLY THREE CENTS A COPY. 
 
 the following are the terms — 
 
 To any part of the United Slates, for one year, SL-IO 
 
 Do. do. |do. for8 months, 1.00 
 
 Do. do. do. for 4 months, O.fiO 
 
 Do. do. do. for 1 month, 0.12 
 
 To any part of Canada or the British Provinces, one year, 
 
 S2,00 — All payments in advance. 
 
 FOR ADVERTISING, 
 
 12 lines, single insertion Sl.OO 1 12 lines, 1 month, S2.60 
 12 do. 3 months, S.-W 1 12 do. 1 year, lliiiO 
 
 Published everv week, at the Office, No 10 Spruce street, 
 New York, by the Proprietor. 
 
 E1)\VAUD DOWSES CONNEKY & CO. 
 
 New York, march 27 
 
 AMUSEMEMTS. 
 
 BOSTON THEATRE. 
 Thomas Barry, Lessee and Manager. 
 
 Engagement of 
 MISS AGNES ROBERTSON. 
 Doors open at 7; Performance commences at 7 1-2 o'clock 
 I'rices of admission — Private Boxes SpH; Parquette, Bal- 
 cony and IstTier 50 cts; Family Circle 25 cts; Amphithea- 
 tre l5 els. 
 
 BOSTON MUSEUM. 
 W. H. Smith, Stage Manager. 
 
 Open for the production of Tragidies, Comedies, Spec- 
 tacles, Faroes, &c. 
 Exhibition HalJ opens at 6 1-2; •ommences at 7 1-2. 
 Admission 25 cents; Reserved Seats 50 cents. 
 
 HOWARD ATHEN^UM. 
 
 Jacob Barrow, Lessee and Manager. 
 
 Henry Wallaok, Stage Manager. 
 
 The Grand Combination every night 
 Doors open at 7; Performance commences at 7 1-2. 
 Dress Boxes 76 ots; Circle boxes &0 cts; Parquette 50 cts; 
 Orchestra 75 cts; Upper Boxes 26 cts; Gallery 13 cts. 
 
 NATIONAL THEATRE. 
 
 (Corner of Portland and Traverse Streets.) 
 
 C. R. Thorne, Lessee and Manager. 
 
 Open nightly for the production of Melo-drama, Farces, 
 Burlesques, &c. 
 
 Doors open at 7 1-4 o'clock; Performence commences at 
 1-4 of 8. 
 
 Prices of admission— Keserved seats 50 ots; boxes 25 cts 
 pit 15 cts ; gallery 10 ots. 
 
 GILMORE'S SALEM QUADRILLE BAND. E. UP 
 TON, Jr., Prompter. Apply to P. S. Gilmore, Es- 
 sex House, Salem, Mass. 3m feblS 
 
 BS. TRI'lANOR, ATTORNEY and COUNSELLOR 
 . AT LAW, 15 Massachusetts Block, Court Square 
 Boston. 
 
 iryParticuIar attention paid to Conveyancing, and the 
 examination of titles of Real Estate. feblS 
 
 THE DAVIDSON SYRINGE. 
 
 Manufactured by 
 
 C. H. BAVIDSOIV k CU. 
 
 No. 40 City Square, 
 
 Charles town. 
 
 - Mat£ 
 
 T/tis Instrument receired iiie highexi premium at Hie Fair of the 
 American Institute., Crystal Falace^ Neto J'orA", 1857. The judg^es 
 were D. Meredith Reese, M. D.,LL. D.; J. M. Carnochau, M. 
 D.; and Henry G. Cox, M. D. 
 
 Persons snbject to Hadftual Constipation, will derive 
 great benefit fiomi the daily use of this instrument, and fre- 
 quently effect a. radicnl cure of the dilHculty, as well as aYoid 
 tlie constant use of cathartics, which alfurd only temporary 
 relief, and debilitate, while the injection acts as an invi^orant. 
 
 ^J;Crfor Sale bt all "Wnolesale Druggists. Surgical Instru- 
 ment Makers, and India Rubber Dealers, througliout the 
 XFiiited States, and by Retail Druggists and Apothecaries 
 everywhere.. 
 
 PASSENGER CERTIEICATES. 
 
 TO OLD COUNTRYMEN. Owen Mc Namara has 
 Passage Certificates and Drafts always on hand and 
 lor sale. As lie does business for that most respectable 
 houpe, (Williams & Guion) in New York. Old Countrymen 
 dcsirinff to send for their friends, or remit money, would 
 do wellto give him a call at No. 4 Gouuam St.. opposite 
 Summer St., Lowell, Mass. aplitf 
 
 DO'UOUUKE, respectfully informs his friends and the 
 • public, that he keeps constantly on hand COI'TINS 
 of nil si/.-x and kinds, nt hii< Collin Manufactory, No. 347 
 Kr.lrKil. I.riun-n UeacU and Kneeland Strcet-s, Boston, 
 \\ hi' li he w ill ^.11 :i!s reasonable as can be bought ut any oth- 
 
 ^. i;. - nnliMs punctually attended to, day or uight. 
 
 ICesidence, No. 28 South street, lioston. 
 
 Qv^O rave-Clothes furnished to order at short notice. 
 
 febl3 
 
 W 
 
 ILLIAM :MANXIXC. Sicxton & FCNEUAL Under- 
 
 TAKi:i:r.l thr 1 >i»rrlR->(er ( 'atliolic Cemetery, would 
 1 his Irini.l.^ :mi<I the imblie, thnt he keeps constantly 
 on hand and nKMiuliirlurfs 1o order, coltins oliill .sizes and 
 kind-, at bis cnlliii wi.rcnK.in. \o. 1 Ihivis St., l£o\bnrv. 
 
 (;niv.'eli)tlirs..rvari.>nsiinaliti.-s for sale, and collhi plates 
 eu;.jraved ut ^ho^t notice. I'rice of (jlravet*, W3-5U. 
 
 PROSPECTUS. 
 
 IRISH MISCKLLANY. I'rospcctus. On Saturday the 
 13tli day of I'Y-bruary 1808. was publiBlierl the lirat 
 muniber olanew weekly periodical, wil h Ihc al.ove title, 
 dedicated to the dillusion of a more inliniate l.nuw ledge of 
 the literary and political history of Ireland, und to the 
 mental, moral and political elevation ol the Celtic race on 
 this continent. 
 
 Thit'^ Irish MiscfUaiiy'' will contain 16 pages of clof-ely 
 printed matter, on line paper, of a size similar to this pros- 
 pectus. I'rice 4 cents a copy, payable on delivery ; or »2 a 
 year to mail subscribers — invariably In advance. 
 
 In asking lor public support lor the Irnh Misrrllany, it iB 
 proper to say, that it is not oar intention to tMsjiaes upon 
 the ground already occupied by any oi our colcmporaries. 
 We have marked out for ours«lv«s a eouri-e entirely new and 
 original— one not occuyiuU by any other pnblicution in thia 
 country. We proposw to cultivate a held which, altliuugh 
 naturally rich and fertile, and capable of pre. (hieing the 
 choicest flowers and fruilu of litviature, hab Ijtilniio Jaiu 
 comparatively barren and unproduelive. Jnin tliis held we 
 shall enter with a full conlidenctt of its capnUilitiis, but with 
 a modest difiidence of the skill which we shall bring to its 
 culture. 
 
 It has long been a reproach to our race here, that while 
 the publications of the day, with but few exceptions, teem 
 with vile carricatures oi'us and of our country — while we 
 are continually held u^ to public gaze as everything that is 
 foolish, absurb and vicious— but little eifortis made to place 
 the true character of our iieoide before the public eye. or 
 vindicate our name and race from the calumnies with which 
 English hate everywhere pursues us. 
 
 To correct, in some measure, this crying evil, it was at 
 first intended to gather together a number of Irishmen dis- 
 tinguished in the walks of literature, and publish monthly 
 a review, which, for sterling talent, should be second to 
 none published here or in Euorpe. The great expense con 
 sequent upon an undertaking of this magnitude, deterred us 
 from the attempt, compelled us to relinquish our design, 
 and to substitute instead thereof, our more unpretending 
 " Miscellany.''^ 
 
 We propose tore-produce in our weekly periodical the 
 writings of many of the great minds who have gone belbre 
 us, while we shall also cuil from the current Irisli literature 
 of the day, such productions of merit as cannot tail to be 
 acceptible to our readers. Our country is rich in iegendry 
 lore, and the legends of the old laud, while they amuse, 
 serve to instruct and to elevate. 
 
 We shall therefore publish such instructive tales and le- 
 gends ot a high moral tone, that will remind us of the hap- 
 py times when we — 
 
 'Sat by the fire of a cold winter's night, 
 Along with ourfriendstelling tales of delight.' 
 
 We shall give faithful descriptions and illustrations of 
 Irish antiquities— of our ruined monasteries, our plundered 
 abbeys and churches; and our pictorial illustrations of Irish 
 scenery and antiquities will present to loving minds many 
 familiar scenes of early childhood. We have secured the 
 services of talented artists, and each number of the Jliscel- 
 lauy will contain numerous illustrations executed in the 
 best style of art. 
 
 We shall keep constantly before our readers the ancient 
 glory of our country, and while we ponder with pride upon 
 the moral and intellectual superiority of Ireland, when 
 England and the rest of Europe was sunk in ignorance and 
 barbarism; we shall point to the past as an incentive to the 
 future. 
 
 The biographies of distinguished Irishmen will be an im- 
 portant feature in the Irish Miscellany, as we shall give 
 biographical notices of Irishmen distinguished in every 
 department of literature, science and art— of men distin- 
 guished on the sea and on land: in the church the senate, 
 and at the bar. 
 
 It is our intention to republish the works of Irish writers 
 now out of print, in such a manner that they may be pre- 
 served to future time as a memento of the old land, and 
 serve to incalculate, in the minds of the rising generation, 
 a'filial regard for the land of their fathers. 
 ' We propose commencing with the Dublin Pmny Journal. 
 a work which in its day enjoyed unbounded popularity. 
 We shall devote one half of the M(5ceWaHy to each number 
 of that national iiublication. To do this we have ordered a 
 font of type in Irish characters, so that the poems printed 
 in that Journal in the Irish language can be reprinted in 
 Irish characters with English translation in ours. This 
 department of the Miscellany will be in the hands of an Irish 
 gentleman every wav coniiirient to the task. 
 
 The remaining eight i):ii:i - nf tlir Misrflhiny will be devo- 
 ted to the current new.v ui ihr (i;i\ m original articles, tales, 
 essays, poetry, &c. In in. line- we .-hall endeavor to avoid 
 those questions which liu\e divided our countrymen, or 
 discuss them in a manner void of otience. 
 
 The Irish Miscellany will be thoroughly independent of all 
 political parties — the sla^e of none" Such questions as af- 
 fect our countrymen here, we shall di.scuss with freedom, 
 and zealously labor for their moral, intellectual and politi- 
 cal elevation. 
 
 The editorial labors will be divided among several gentle- 
 men of ability, and we trust to make the fcr,7^i;M/ a wel- 
 come gue.^t at the fireside of every faniilv. Witli these re- 
 marks we commend our sheet to the -••iipinirt of cvury well 
 wisher of our mce. We feel there is room for Midi a pub- 
 lication and promise that nothing shall be wanting on our 
 part to make it worthy of public support. 
 
 M. J. "WALSH & CO., rUDMSHEUP, 
 
 No. 4 Watku Stuket, JIoston, Jtlagg, 
 Dv^AU Communications to the Editors of the Miscel- 
 lany mn.^t be addressed- 'Care ol M.J. Walsu & Co., 
 I'ublishers, Boston, Mass.' 
 
 KELLY & CUXNIN(iHA.M. IWLL IN tSfER.S and Dis- 
 tributors. i\u. li \Viili;in.s( nuit. r.nMun. I'roprietors 
 of all ihe I'.ii.i. Iln.M:i>s i .n hum n^, n >prrt tiillv an- 
 nounce to 111.' bu.siiH'>^ rMiMi iiv ni |;.,mm., ;muI i\. Vurk, 
 
 that (Im-v ha\r jrivallv iiirrrji.M^d ihcir r;i<iliii.-s tor J'osting 
 and hi-iribuliii- Kills, such as Theatre, Concert, Lecture, 
 Auction. .S|(;tiiili'>nt. Circus, &c. &c. 
 
 Owiii;,' In ilic ^Mcat increase in their business, they have 
 been ol)li;,Md to add horses and wagons to their heretofore 
 ample accommodations, to which they give their personal 
 attention. 
 
 %*Thankfnl for past favors they would respectfully so- 
 licit a continuance of public patronage. 
 
 KELLY & CUNNINUHA3I, 2 Williams Court, 
 
 febl3 BcSTOW 
 
 SE. SANBOKN. Wliolesale and Retail Dealer in Gold 
 • and Sii.VEU Watches, Jewelky, Silver Ware 
 Fancy Goods,, &c. No. 1»1 Federal Street. Boston. 
 
 p /* rarticuhir attention given to Kepuiring Watches 
 Clocks, Jewelry, &c. &c. feblS 
 

 
 
 
 ^^1^ i&i y<& w*f 
 
 ^rlcftri) rvprcs.sln for t!)c |ri.s(j ||liscdlaiiiy, 
 
 FBOM THE " SPIRIT OP THE NATION." 
 
 r» o E T I^ Y 
 
 C Y 
 
 I^ JL Tl M O Y. 
 
 AOGQaPAMlElST FQ)E THE MMd'-FOETK. 
 
 i-iiriiis of tbv (iri-pn 
 
 1^: 
 
 . Tis the green 
 . Tlicv may say 
 
 U- 
 
 f ^ 
 
 — oh ! tlie green is 
 they liavc pow - cr 
 
 col - or ol' Ihi- till.', Aii.l wl>'I1 l);ick it 
 viiiii to op-posc — 'Tis Ijijt - tur to 
 
 -N-N-Vr-T-- 
 
 use, !\nil we'll 
 
 a- ^» -0- -C-. m 0- 
 
 h o I'r till! Iiluc; 
 die as foes; 
 
 ' mill live, than sure - ly 
 
 
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 1-0 0,9-0 o --— --I*-TV^--tf-j^-« — -^ ^ —^ 'Z^z 'z:d'^0-J^'--0l-iT^^ ziz^ ^c-a.e a ^ /l 
 
 ir of our I'atlierlamI alone sliouUl here lie seen, 'Tis the color of tliemartyr'il deail.oiir own immortal u'l-ecn.Thcn up ' lor the sri'i'n.liovs.aiicl no ! for tliegrcen :(lli'.'iis 
 scorn all their threats, boys.whatever they may mean ;For we trust in Goii above us.and we dearly love the siccu.So,we'll.iip lor tin; grem.aiid we'll up for the giecn! Uli.to 
 
 
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 ZS- _j. -S- Itf- -A- -=]- -A--0- -S3- -A- -0- -9- -a -a- 
 
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 down in the dust, and a shain^o he seen ; But we've liands'oh 1 we've hands, hoys, full strong enough,! wceii.To rescue and to raise again our oivn iiuiiio, lai g 
 die is fur bcner than he curst as we have been ; And we've liearts,oh,we've hearts, boys, full true enough I wcen/i'o rescue and to raise again our own immortal g 
 
 
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 -«- -«i — a- -ijnz -H- 
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 They may swear as they often tlitl, our wretcheilnoss to cure ; 
 
 Bat we'll never trost John Bull again, nor let his lies allure. 
 
 No, we won't — no, wo won't, Bull, for now nor ever more ! 
 
 For we've hopes on the ocean, ami we've tnist on the shore. 
 Then up for the green, boy.s, and up for the green ! 
 Shout it back to the Sas;inach, "We'll never sell the green !" 
 For our To.sk is coming kick, and with men enough. I ween. 
 To rcsfiij, and avciigo u.s and our own imiimrtal green. 
 
 ' Uu.iTirk I .Mis|xlli 
 
 T=--^A 
 
 --1- 
 
 — ~^- — T — I — 
 
 " 
 
 J |-j -\ 1 — '— 1*— • — q H— 
 
 z^i i^z zji-.gZ I'Si 
 
 -^- -ri- ib- d- 
 
 4. 
 Ob, remember the days when thoir reign we did di.stuib, 
 At Luimnciich * and Diirlas.f — Blackwater and 7/ iitn-hurh ; J 
 Anil a.sk tliis proud Saxon if our blows ho did enjoj', 
 Wlie-i we met him on the battlc-fiold, of Fnnce — .it Fontonoy. 
 
 Then we'll up for the green, boys, and up for t!ic green ! 
 
 Oh, 'tis slill in the dust, and a shania to bo .seen ; 
 
 But we've hearts and we've hands, Imy.s, full .stron^eiiniigh, I \un 
 
 To rescue and to raise agiiin our own unsullied green I 
 
 a Thorle". ; Tinburb. 
 
 R 
 I 
 
 H: 
 
l!\f^ritcj^ 
 
 VOLUME I— NUMBER 14. ] 
 
 BOSTON, SATURDAY, MAY 15, 1858. 
 
 [ PRICE FOUR CENTS. 
 
 THE BANK or IRELAND. 
 
 This truly beautiful and magnificent building, 
 ■which, as all our readers Icnow, was originally the 
 Parliament House of Ireland, though considerably 
 chan"ed by the internal adaptations necessary for 
 its present purpose, is fully entitled to the charac- 
 ter "iven of it in 1791, by the very talented James 
 Malton — 'that is is no hyperbole to advance, that 
 this edifice in the entire, is the grandest, most con- 
 venient, and most extensive of the kind in Europe;' 
 and with equal truth he observed, that 'it derives 
 
 all its beauty from a simple impulse of fine art; 
 and is one of the few instances of form only, ex- 
 pressing true symetry,' Indeed, so truly classic is 
 this fine edifice in its proportions, so grand in its 
 simplicity, that it is not saying too much of it, that 
 it would have done honor to the best days of Gre- 
 cian art; and with such an example before us — one 
 which gives ..delight to all persons imbued even 
 with the slightest sentiments ot taste — it is strange 
 that it should hitherto have had so little effect on 
 the architectural taste of onr country, and that 
 
 nothing comparable to it, and very little of a simi- 
 lar refined cliaracter, has been ever raised in the 
 country since the period of its erection. 
 
 The foundation of the Parliament House was 
 laid in 1729, during the administration of Lord 
 Cartaret, and was executed under the inspection of 
 Sir Edward Lovet Pearce, engineer and surveyor- 
 general; but completed by Arthur Dobbs, Esq., 
 who succeeded him in that office about the year 
 1739. The expense amounted to above £40,000. 
 The buildinp: being found insufficient In extent to 
 
 accommodate the Lords and Commons, in 178.5, on 
 eastern front leading to the House of I/Ords, was 
 designed and executed by the late eminent archi- 
 tect James Gandon, at an expense of £25,000. In 
 1787, a western front and entrance, joined to the 
 centre portico by a circular colonadc, were added, 
 from the desi<;;i of Mr. Parke, architect, for about 
 £30,000. The edifice thus pejfected for its original 
 purposes, was iiurchased by the Company of the 
 Hank of Ireland in 1S02, fro:ii tl'.e Oovciniiunt, fur 
 the sura of £10,000, subject to a ground rent of 
 
 THE ILVNiC OF IRELAND. 
 £210 per annum. It is singular enough that the 
 name of the original areliitcct is not certainly 
 known. 
 
 The centre portion of this magnificent structure, 
 which is the subject of our present illustration, 
 consists of one grand colonadc of the Ionic order, 
 occupying three sides of a court- yard, and resting 
 on a flight of steps, continued entirely round, and 
 to the extremities of the colonadc, where are en- 
 trances Jindor two lofty archways. The four cen- 
 tral columns support a pcdinicut, wliose tympanum 
 
 is ornamented by the lloj-al Arms, and ou its ap.-x 
 is placed a statue of HiLiernia, with one of Fdclity, 
 on her right, and another of C<mimerce on her left. 
 These statues were executed by our fellow citizen 
 John .Smyth, that of llibcniia being modeled by 
 his father, and the other two by the celebrated 
 riaxman. This magnificent centre is connected 
 with the eastern and western fronts, which almost 
 contend v:\X\\ it in beauty, by circular screen Avails 
 the height of the building, enriched with dressed 
 niche..-', and a rusticated basement. Tlic western 
 
210 
 
 IlMSIl iMISCELLANY. 
 
 front, which is n beautiful porti^i jf four Jonic 1 
 column!!, sinniounttil liy ii iiidimrnt, iircsorvcs nn j 
 uniformity of' style with the rentre; but the ensteni 
 one, wliieh wns originiiUy tlic entrance to the House 
 of Lords, is of a liitl'irent style, beinR of the v'or- i 
 inthinn order, and consisting of six columns, 
 crowned by a pcdinunt with a "lain tympanum, on 
 which stnnd tlu-cc tine statues by the elder Smyth ' 
 emblematic of Justice, Fortitude and Liberty. | 
 Though this fortieo is in itself of the most ixqnis- ' 
 itc proportions nnd biauiy, the dilFercncc 'of its I 
 style from the otlicr parts of the building is justly 
 objected to, inasmuch as 4t destroys the symmetri- 
 cal uniformity of the building as n whole. The 
 defect, however, was accidental, nnd not attributa- 
 ble to any want of judgment on the part of its ac- 
 complished architect, but caused by a desire on the 
 part of the Lords to have their entrance of a diif- 
 cront and more ornamental character than that ap- 
 propriated to the C()mmons; and it is rilated as an 
 instance of the ready wit of Mr. Gandou, that a 
 gentleman passing while the workmen were placing 
 the Corinthian capitals on the columns, struck 
 with the incongruity, having asked, 'What order is 
 thatr' the architect who was present, replied 'It is a 
 very substantial order, for it is an order of the 
 Uousc of Lords.' 1'. 
 
 ANNALS OF DUBLIN. 
 
 Translated from the Autograph of the Four Masters 
 in the Library of the Royal Irish Academy. 
 [Continued.] 
 1213. Fin O'Brollaghan, the steward of O'Don- 
 nell, (Donall Mor) went to Coiuiauglit to collect 
 O'DonncU's tribute. lie first went to Carbria of 
 Dnimcliff, and there at his house, at Lis an Uoill 
 O'Uuly, he visited the poet Muireadhach (Murray) 
 to whom he conveyed his message. Upon coming 
 into the poet's presence, he betrayed symptoms of 
 fear, uneasiness, and caution, (for his lord had ad- 
 vised him to beware of the poet ;) Murray became 
 enraged at his appearance, and seizing a sharp axe, 
 he struck and slew him on the spot, and then fled 
 into Clanrickard from fear of O'Donnell. "When 
 O'Donnell obtained intelligence of this, he airived 
 at Derrydonnell, (a place in Clanrickard, signifying 
 O'DonncU's Oak Grove, so called because O'Don- 
 nell had encamped there for a night,) an<J proceeded 
 to devastate the country by fire and sword, until 
 Mac William de Burgo at last submitted to liim. Be- 
 fore de Burgo submitted,- he informed Muireadhach 
 that he was no longer able to protect him, where- 
 upon the poet fled into Thomond, and placed him- 
 self under the protection of Donogh Cairbreach 
 O'Brien. O'Donnell pursued him, nnd proceeded 
 to plunder and lay waste that country also, where- 
 upon O'Brien ordered Murray to fly into Limerick; 
 whither O'Donnell followed, and pitching his camp 
 at Moncydonnell (so called from that circumstance) 
 laid siege to Limerick. Upon which the inhabitants 
 of Limerick, at O'Donnall's command, expelled 
 Muireadhach, who received no protection until he 
 arrived in Dublin. 
 
 O'Donnell, after having performed the -i-isitation 
 of all Connaught, and receiving his tribute from 
 them, returned safe home. Upon his return, he 
 immediately mustered another army, and, marching 
 to Dublin, compelled the inhabitants to expel Muir- 
 eadhach to Scotland. Here the poet, while in exile, 
 composed three poems in praise of O'Donnell, and 
 requesting pardon and peace from him. The third 
 of these poems commences, 
 
 *0b! Donall, hand of poacc' 
 O'Donnell, being moved at the excellence of his 
 poems, received him to mercy, and gave liim lands 
 and protection. 
 
 1238. Felix O'Roony, archbishop of Tuom, who 
 had resignetT his bishoprick some time before for the 
 purpose of applying himself more sedulously to de- 
 
 votion, nnd who hnd received the monastic linbit in 
 Mary's .\bbey in Dublin, died in this year. 
 
 r24.'i. Slalimo O'Crenghan, (Crean) archdeacon of 
 Tunm, upim his return across the sea (from Eng- 
 land probably) died in Dublin. 
 
 ILMG. 'I'he archbishop of Dublin died. 
 rJS3. Dublin »nd Christ's church were burned. 
 1305. Donogh O'Flaherty, bishop of Killula, the 
 most pious of the Irish, died at Dunboyne, on his 
 w.iy to Dublin, nnd was solemnly interred in tha- 
 House of the Blessed Virgin Mary, at Mullingar. 
 
 135G. Garrett 'I'yrrell was put to death by the 
 people of the King of Kngjand,' on the Green of 
 Dublin. 
 
 1358 O'ilore jjnve the English of Dublin a sig- 
 nal overthrow, leaving 240 of them dead on the 
 field of battle. 
 
 1368. David O'Toole was slain by the English of 
 Dublin. 
 
 13G9. Dcrraod Mac Morogh, King of Leinster, 
 surnamed the red lianded, was put to death by the 
 English of Dublin, after having been fur a long time 
 before imprisoned by them. 
 
 1391. Kichard, Iving of England, landed at Wa- 
 terford, and proceeded thence to Dublin. 
 
 Camcluana O'Dugan was slain by the people of 
 the King of England in Dublin. 
 
 1108. The English of Dublin marched under the 
 conduct of the son of the King of England into Lein- 
 ster. llitsin (Hutson) Tuite was slain on this ex- 
 pedition, and was very generally lamented. 
 
 1112, Hugh, son of Henry O'Neill macje his es- 
 cape from Dublin, after having been ten years im- 
 prisoned there, and brought several other hostages, 
 his fellow prisoners, along withhim, viz., the son of 
 Maguire, and the son of O'Xeill (his own brother's 
 son;) this act was the cause of great distuibauee in 
 the province of Ulster, t. 
 
 1413. O'Byme gave the English of Dublin a sig- 
 nal defeat. 
 
 142.5. O'Neill, and Owen O'Xeill, i^^eachtain 
 O'Donnell, the son of O'Neill Boy, (i.e. of Clan- 
 naboy.) M'CJuillan, Mac Donnell, and O'Mellain, 
 keeper of the bell of St. Patrick, came to the house 
 of the carl, and were made prisoners by Lord Fur- 
 nival, after the death of the Earl of Mares. These 
 chieftains were brought by him to Dublin, and con- 
 lined there. 
 
 1431. Mac Morogh Lord (Tighearna) of Leinster, 
 (i. e. Donogh, the Son of Art Cavanagh) made an 
 incursion into the County of Dublin. The English 
 rose up to make opposition, but in the first engage- 
 ment Mac Morogh pro\ed victorious, killed many and 
 took much booty from them. The English collected a 
 fresh body of troops, and on the evening of the same 
 day overtook Mac Morogh's .ii-my who were carry- 
 ing off immense booty. A battle ensued in lyjiich 
 Mac Morogh was defeated, with the loss of a large 
 body of his troops under the command of Mac an 
 Mhidhigh, son of Teige, of the family of O'Brien, and 
 under the two sons of O'Connor Kerry. O'Toole 
 was taken prisoner. 
 
 1434. O'Neill (Owen) and O'Donnell (Niall*) 
 mustered all the forces of Ulster and made an incur- 
 sion into Mcath to plunder and destroy the English 
 there. The English of Traigh-Bhaile (Dundalk,) 
 came to O'Neill and paid him his tribute, and be- 
 stowed on him many jewels and precious articles. 
 O'Neill proceeded and burned Machaire Oirgiall, 
 (Co. Louth, )and as his soldiers were setting fire to 
 the fortresses of the English in that country, they 
 were surprised by the King of England's Deputy 
 who was approaching them at the head of an army, 
 whereupoii'O'Neill fled and esccped without the loss 
 of a man, 
 
 O'Donnell, his son Torlogh (heir apparent of Tir- 
 
 • When the Surname is thus mentioned berore the Chrif<- 
 tion name, or if the latter should be entirely omitted, nnd 
 the Suriinmc only expressed, in either cose, tlie cUiel' of his 
 uuuic and country is meant. 
 
 eonnclly,) and MTathinhaoil (CampljcU,) passed in 
 another direction and begun to commit hostilities ; 
 but to their groat misfortune they were met by a 
 numerous body of English cavalry, who surrounded 
 them on every side. O'DoiincU's army defended 
 themselves for a long time, until Torlogh, Sri^ath- 
 mhuoil (Campbell,) 'Mac-un-Kaspuic, Mac Cath- 
 mhaoil, and several others of distinction WMtc slain. 
 After the loss of his people, O'Donnell was taken 
 prisoner, and given up to the. King of England's 
 Deputy, the son of John Stanley, and being sent to 
 Dublin was imprisoned there. The son of Munus 
 Cuech O'Donnell, was also taken. 
 
 1431). The King of England's Deputy arrived in 
 Ireland, and was taken prisoner by Cahir, the son 
 of O'C'onor Faly. . After he had remained sometime 
 ineonfinement, ho was ransomed by the English of 
 Dublin, who delivered up the son of I'luukett in his 
 stead. 
 
 The plague raged virulcntlv this year in Dublin, 
 from the commencement of Spring to the end of 
 May ; it swept away three thousand of the inhabit- 
 ants, both men and women young and old. 
 
 Of this plague died, Donagh, the son ot O'Dowd, 
 (Teige,) Connor, the son of M'Donagh, and his wife, 
 the daughter of Teige M'Donagh, the Viear of Im- 
 leach Iseal, Donagh, the son of Tomaltach O'Bo- 
 land, Edmund dc Burgo, the son of ClanricT;ard,* 
 who was heir apparent to the Lordship of Clanrick- 
 ard. 
 
 1442. The English of Dublin and Meath made an 
 incursion into the territory of the O'Byrnes, and 
 committed great depredations there ; but they were 
 overtaken by the O'Bynies and O'Tooles, who gave 
 them a signal defeat and stripped them of all their 
 spoils. Eighty of the English were killed. 
 
 1452. Fergal Roe Oge Ma-Geoghegan, a chieftain 
 of great fame and renown in his time, was killed by 
 the B.iron of Delvin, and by the sons of Pierce Dal- 
 ton, at Cruach-abhall ; his head was cut off and 
 carried to Trim, and to' Dublin, and exultingly ex- 
 hibited at those places ; it was carried buck again 
 and interred with his body at Durrow of Colunib- 
 killc, (King's County.) 
 
 1453. The O'Neills, of ClannaTjoy, suffered a great 
 overthrow at Ardglass, from the Savadgcs, assisted 
 by the English of Dublin, who had landed upon 
 their territory. The following was the cause of 
 their going thither : A British (Welch) fleet had 
 attacked and plundered the fleet of Dublin, and 
 taken the archbishop prisoner; the Dublin fleet pur- 
 sued thein as far as the North Sea, and on their re- 
 turn landed upon the Ardes, Savadge's territory, 
 and assisted him against his northern enemies. In 
 this battle of Ardglass, Henry O'Neill was taken 
 prisoner by the English ; Cu-uladh, the son of 
 Cathbharr Magennis, heirapparent of Iveagh ; Hugh 
 Magennis, Mac-Carton, nnd fourteen lenders from 
 the route, (Co. -\ntrim,) were slain. The total of 
 the slain on the side of the Irish, amounted to 520. 
 
 1404. O'Donnell, Mae Williom de liurgo (Burke) 
 and many of the nobility of Ireland, both of Irish 
 and English extraction, along with them, repaired 
 to Dublin to meet Thomas Earl of Desmond, the 
 then Lord Chief Justice of Ireland, and they en- 
 tered into a league of peace and friendship with 
 him. 
 
 14G6. The English of Meath and Leinster made 
 an incursion into Ophaly; O'C. nnorl'aly (Con) asr 
 seinbled his forces and gave them bnttle, in which 
 he slew, first of all, John, the son of Thomas, the 
 best and most renowaied leader amongst the English, 
 whose loss was an omen of ill success to his people. 
 The next day the Earl and his English were defeat- 
 ed, and the Earl himself taken prisoner and dcspoil- 
 
 • The Dc Burgos (or Burkes) in Connauglit took the 
 Dnmeof Mnc AVillioni, and were diviiic-d intu two prii.ci- 
 pal branches, kiiouii as the nearer and further M'Willi.im, 
 the first living in the County of Uahvay and the eecond iu 
 the County of Muyo. 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 211 
 
 oil of his arms and accoutrements. Tcigc O'Connor 
 conveyed the Bavl (who was his own son-in-law,) 
 to Caislcn Cairpre, and there incarcerated liini, to- 
 gether witli several of his people who were taken 
 prisoners, such as CliristopherPlunkett, the Prior of 
 the House of the Blessed Virgin at Trim, and AVil- 
 linm Ogc Nugent, and many others of distinction. 
 AVlten the English of Dublin obtained intelligence 
 of this, they came and rescued these prisoners in 
 despite of their enemies. 
 
 For some time after this battle, Meath was 
 much disturbed by the adjacent Irish Chieftains. 
 O'Connor Faly was in the practice of sending 
 marauding parties northwards as far as Tara, and 
 southwards as far as Naas, to plunder Meath, and 
 the inhabitants of Urefny and Oriel laid it waste in 
 all directions by Mre and sword. 
 
 J.'O'D. 
 
 A TOUR TO CONNAUCHT. 
 
 LETTKK IV. 
 
 To the Editor of the Dublin Penny Journal:— 
 
 Well, Terence O'Toole, you will prove yourself a 
 right worthy Milesian, if you can make any thing of 
 Kionegad. A learned wight, in the last Penny Jour- 
 nal, says, 'Terence knows something of Irish Topo- 
 graphy,' and witli recomlite insight into the etymon of 
 my Christian name, announces that it means, in Irish, 
 'the Tower-like.' I suspect he is the least in life mis- 
 taken, and may be set right by the substitution of one 
 letter, and should have said that Toirdhcalhach meant 
 'Tour-like;' and, verily, I must like tour-making very 
 much, when I would venture to describe the amenities 
 of Kinnegad. Like most towns in east and west Meath 
 'a lean place amidst. fat lands.' What a sleepy spot — 
 few up and doing, but the cur dogs and beggars. 
 The bugle of trie passing coach sends its clamor along 
 the quiet street, it reverberates amongst the mud walls 
 and dungliills — ihe lazy cobbler lifts his head from bis 
 last, and scratches, significantly, beneath his woollen 
 nightcap — the tailor lays down his goose, scratches, 
 rumifiatipgly at the organ of destructiveness, and 
 stares at the passing vehicle — the tinker's ass brays 
 responsively as the guard blows — the sow rises from 
 her wallowing in the green puddle that slinks and 
 festers before the huxter's door, to grunt in unison — 
 mendicants and cur dogs rush forth and surround us, 
 the one barking, the other begging! Oh, why have 
 we not the pencil of a Wilkie or an Ostade, a Callot 
 or Delia Bella, to picture the grouping of a co.ich 
 changing horses at an Irish village. Hore I challenge 
 all the mendicant counties in Cliristendom, to match 
 me Ireland in the trade, or costume, or apitude for 
 begging — France, Italy, aye, even Spain itself must 
 yield the palm. Where, under the sun, could you find 
 such eloquence of complaint — such versatility of sup- 
 plication — such aptitude of humor — suiting with felic- 
 itous tact, the appeal to the well guessed character of 
 the applicand! Observe, there is always a leader of 
 the begging band, who controls the rest, and asserts a 
 manifest superiority in striking the key-note of suppli- 
 cation. Take, for ins'ance, the queen bee, or rather 
 wasp, of the Kinnegad swarm that surround;:d us; 
 what a tall, sturdy, sinewy virago — her dark, rapid 
 eye bespeaking her quick spirit — her powerful form, 
 the danger of disputing with her — her sallow skin and 
 sharp features, that t!ie pabnlum of her existence was 
 drawn more from whiskey than from wholesome eata- 
 bles: alas, for the body, soul, and spirit of , that being 
 whose existence depends on whiskey and potatoes. 
 Look at her, with her filthy, (altering hand fi.v.d now 
 on the coach door, in the attiiudeof ihreatening requi- 
 sition, and almost frightening a dilicatc female within 
 into the reluctant bcstowmcut of sixpence. Again, 
 sec with what d leer of cunning she addresses herself 
 in flattering guise to an outside passenger, and how 
 knowingly she smokes a youth with a cigar in his 
 mouth, and while eo.axing him out of a penny, which 
 he flung at her head, she played upon the pufler, of- 
 • fercd to lend him her dudheen, quizzed him for his 
 parsimony, in attempting to smoke and (!Iicw at the 
 
 same time from the same tabnccy twist, and exhibited 
 him in truth of his nature, as a jackanapes. Then she 
 moved ofi' to the rear of the coach, and commenced 
 flattering a farming sort of young man, large, rude 
 and ruddy. 'OchI then is that yourself, Master Tom, 
 — I hope your honor's heifer's sold well last market — 
 maybe it's yourself that hasn't tlie pockctfull of money 
 coming out of Sniithfield — aild long may your father 
 and your father's son reign, for it's he that's the good 
 ivarrant to 'give to the poor — my blessing, and the 
 blessing of poor Judy's children light upon him every 
 (lay he gets up, for ifs he that never passes through 
 Kinnegad without throwing me a silver shilling. Do, 
 Miister Tom, and the heavens be your bed, throw us a 
 half-crown, and we'll divide honestly. Yes, your 
 honor, I know you'll be afther putting your hand in 
 your pocket. Molly, agra,' turning to another beg- 
 garwoman, 'what a sweet smile Master Tom has car- 
 ries — isn't he as like the dear man his father, as if he 
 was spit out'Ot his mouth — but why shouldn't be be 
 good, seeing as how he's the rale ould sort, none of 
 your upstart jackecns.' Hero a sixpence thrown at 
 her head, rewarded her pains, and immediately she 
 turned to a respectable looking mail, with broad 
 brimmed hat and sad coloredy attire, who stood on the 
 other side of the vehicle, preparing to mount. 'Do, 
 your riverenee, throw us a tester before you go, and 
 soon and safe may you return, for the prayer of tha 
 fatherless and widow will be along wid ye — lilessing 
 on his sweet charitable face — wouldn't ye see. Honor,' 
 addressing herself to another beggarwoman, 'with the 
 wink of an eye, that there was a heart within him (or 
 the poor.' Here Honor interposed — 'Judy Mulcahey, 
 and bad luck to yes, why call the gentleman his river* 
 ence, when you know no more than my sucking child 
 whether he be a clargy at all, at all.' 'Yes, but I do 
 know, and for why shouldn't I; don't I see his galli- 
 gaskins covering so tight and nate his comfortable 
 legs — blessings on his riverenee every day he rises' — 
 and then, in an under voice, and turning to a beggar- 
 man behind her, 'Jack, what matters it to the likes of 
 us, whether he bo the right sort or not — what concarn 
 is it to Judy and the childer, whether he be priest, par- 
 son, or methody preacher, so as I slewder him out of 
 sixpence. . Do, your riverenee, do, and the poor wid- 
 ow's blessing attend ye, throw something before ye's 
 go amongst us.' Tims she carried on her attacks — 
 praised and joked, prayed and imprecated, now a 
 blessing, now a blasphemy, and wheii the guard sang 
 out 'all's right,' and the coach drove off, she heaped 
 curses, for sheer fun's sake, upon all those whom, for 
 herself and fellows, she failed to put under contribu- 
 tion, and then for the whiskey shop, to dissolve, with 
 all rapidity, the proceeds of her morning's occupation. 
 But 'adieu to village delights.' 
 
 'Strange,' says our English fellow traveller, as we 
 passed along some beautiful pasturage lands westward 
 of the village, 'that a soil seemingly so rich, does not 
 produce cheese; is it the fault of your land, or it owing 
 to the laziness of your people, that Ireland, even from 
 her richest soils, produces none'?' 'I beg your pardon, 
 sir,' said I, 'in my younger d.iys, I remember eating 
 cheese made in this vicinity. To be sure, the manu- 
 facture of Kinnegad was not equal to that of Beikeley 
 Hundred, and was, in sooth, a lough, thin, leathery 
 sort of thing, very like, when cut into slices, so many 
 razor strops, and I agree with you that it is very 
 strange that our confessedly rich pastures cannot sup- 
 ply good cheese, though I have known great pains 
 taken by sundry spirited landed proprietors to produce 
 a good article, and still the attempt proved abortive, 
 though the method of manuf.'.clurc, the machinery and 
 the makers were brought over from the most approved 
 places in England, as Cheshire, Gloucestershire, Lei- 
 cestershire; they made cheese to bo sure, but it proved 
 not cither Cheshire, Gloucester or Stilton.' 'Gentle- 
 men,' said a shrewd, farmer-looking fellow-traveller, 
 'this may not be so strange as many superficial ob- 
 servers might be apt to suppose. The failure, instead 
 of proving a mark of inferiority in our pasture lands, 
 only serves as a proof of their abundant and succulent 
 fertility. The truth is, and on this subject I am in- 
 
 formed by a good practical chemist, that our Irish 
 soils hiid out for dairy husbandry supply the cream 
 instead of the curd; or as my friend in learned phrase 
 said, they enrich the cow with more of the butryaceous 
 than the caseous matter. If unable to produce cheese 
 in sufMcient quality or quantity, we can yet supply 
 abundantly our own and foreign markets with butter 
 the best in the world. The bcuntics of Providence are 
 various, and every country has its peculiar blessing. 
 France has her wine, Italy her oil, England her cheese, 
 Ireland her beef and her butter; and as my farm in 
 Westmcath supplies me with my daily 'male, wash- 
 ing and lodging,' I do not envy the Englishman his 
 bread, cheese and ale.' There, Mr. Editor, was a sen- 
 sible fellow, and just the sort of intelligent Irish far- 
 mer I would like more frequently to meet with. 
 
 In a short time we came in sight, for the first time, 
 of one of those red bogs which are so numerous and 
 extensive in the centre of Ireland, and wliicli, as in a 
 great measure linked, though here and there separated 
 by gravel hills and belts of arable land, form what 
 is called the Bog of Allen. That partof it which now 
 came into view extnds soiith-weitwards — the high 
 and fertile hill of Croghan. 'Is it not,' said I, 'a dis- 
 grace to the science, the skill, the enterprise and wealtli 
 of the nineteenth century, that these immense wastes 
 should still pervade our island, when a teeming popu- 
 lation is calling out for land from whence it can draw 
 sustenance, and when thousands are seeking for set- 
 tlements in the American forests.' To this very trite 
 remark the farming gentleman, who seemed so well 
 informed as to cheese, replied by observing, 'that ho 
 had hopes that very shortly here would be some effi- 
 cient means brought to bear upon these togs, so as to 
 bring them into productive cultivation; for,' says he, 
 'in that very bog we are now directing our attention 
 to, a gentleman, Mr. F., either has begun, or is about 
 to commence a system which he saw practised witli 
 perfect success in Chatmoss — the red bog over which 
 the rail-road runs on its way from Liverpoid to Man- 
 chester — there, by a judicious system of drainage, 
 manuring and cultivation, the bog has been brought to 
 produce abundant crops of wheat; and, as I under- 
 stand, he has contracted with a person from Chaimoss, 
 who is himself conversant with the process there used, 
 to bring either the whole, or part of the bog now be- 
 fore you, under similar cultivation, at an expense not 
 exceeding £.5 per acre.' 'This, indeed,' I observed, 
 'would be a truly patriotic experiment; and if success- 
 ful in bringing a red flow bog into such productive- 
 ness as to grow wheat, he would prove an eminent 
 benefactor to his country. But I confess, I hare my 
 misgivings as to any success such as may alter the 
 face of one great flow bog; there may be some skirt- 
 ings of them reclaimed; the black bogs, and such parts 
 of the red as are so drained and compressed to have 
 passed from their spongy, living, and growing state, 
 may be cultivated, as I have seen them before now, 
 luit for a deep red bog, consisting of ujjwnrds of a 
 thousand acres, plantation measure, and whic*! is, in 
 fact, so wet and loose in its centre as to resemble more 
 a mass of stiraboul or porridge than any thing else; 'a 
 crude consistence,' as Milion called his Chaos, neilher 
 sea nor good dry land.' This to drain, to compress, 
 to consolidate, will require a process carried on pcrse- 
 veringly through a .series of years, and though the 
 work should have a beginning, and should be made a 
 great object of n:itional expenditure, yet to have fields 
 of corn waving in the space of one two or five years, 
 where now the bittern booms in safety, and which now 
 is proiluctive only of bog beans and bog berries, 
 is too much to expect, and those who do expect it will 
 surely be disappointed.' 'Bui sir, though millions of 
 acres may not, by any rapid progress, bo brought 
 under cultivation, yet the reclaiming of the skirts and 
 more solid parts of these bogs is a jiraiseworthy and 
 patriotic attempt.' 'Allow mo to ask, what is tho 
 employ !' 'Why, sir, as far as I can understand, it 
 consists in supeificial draining, so as to allow horses 
 shod with bog shoes, or wooden pattens, to walk on 
 and iilcnigh the moss. In the using of moveable 
 wooden railways to cart on gravel, liinc, and manure 
 
212 
 
 IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 — in brinRinf; the surface to miniito fineness, by plongh- 
 ill);, li:inu»iii(;, uiitl by kie|iiM(; iljiis lliiit BUrlacc iici. 
 titer too wet nor too dr^', (lor .such a state is esscntinl 
 to its |>ro.Uic(ivenoc>s,) unil, nliovo all, by nnuuiring 
 what is ex|)L'c[Cil to projuco a good crop with furm- 
 yuril duiii;.' 'Well, sir, I wish tho experimeiU all 
 sacecss, uud make no donbt but that, to a limited ex- 
 tent, it will turn out satisfactory; and all I would say, 
 is, lliat if the landlords of Ireland, instead of spending 
 their income abroad, despised and scorned as they are 
 by the very people who live upon their folly, would 
 come home and spend what they have to spend, in re- 
 claiming a bog, or part of a bog on their estates, I 
 think they would not only bo more lionorcd, but hap- 
 pier men. After all, what is it forms tho blessing, and 
 what tho curse of human life! Occupation — liopoful, 
 legitimate occupation, the blessing — ennui, mental re- 
 pose, without an object to fix on, or bodily leisure 
 without a work to perform — the curse of nobility; this 
 sends them grouping and trooping to the gambling 
 table and tho race ground. Oh, give these men the 
 desire to im))rovo a bog — procure such a hobby horse 
 for them to ride — let '.hem have this excuse, when 
 urged to go off to Cheltenham, or to Spa or Bareges, 
 'Oh, I have a great red bog to reclaim, and I must be 
 up early and out late to mind my work.' Why, sir, 
 such men, instead of being the most unhappy, un- 
 worthy, shall I say, cursed men in society, instead of 
 lying heavy as lead upon heaps of down, why, sir, 
 tliey would prove happy in themselves, and useful to 
 others — the useful working ants in social life, instead 
 of the 'ignavum pectis,' but 'frugcs consumero nati,' 
 tliey now are. 
 
 This is a pretty Mr. Toirdhealbhach, you work up 
 your Tour to Coanaught by twaddling about red bogs 
 and bad landlords. Your pardon, good reader, sure 
 my lucubrations ate worth ten minutes of your time, 
 or the fourth part of a penny. 
 
 Tekekce O'Toole. 
 
 THE CAME OF COMAN 
 PLATED nv TUE NORTH AMEUICAN IKDIANS. 
 
 Our readers will, wc have no donbt, bo highly 
 amused in reading the subjoined picturesque account, 
 abridged from Captain Basil Hull's Travels, of the 
 Indian game of ball-play, and which, they will be sur- 
 prised to find, is in every respect similar to the favorite 
 game of eoman as played in Ireland. We may natur- 
 ally enquire, how has this curious coincidence origina- 
 ted? That it should be accidental is very improbable : 
 and are we then to conclude that the Irish and the 
 Crock Indians are descended from the same stock ? 
 Do not laugh at the folly of this supposition; it is not 
 quite so ridcnious as you may suppose. You all 
 know that our I'ha'nician origin has been assorted, 
 and, we might add, proved by our historians and nn- 
 tii|uaries; for our own p.irts, to a certain extent, wo 
 have no donbt on this point. A similar origin lias 
 been also assigned to the North American Indians by 
 the writer of the Universal History, and by a vast 
 number of other learned men; and the probability of 
 the conjecture, has l)een wonderfully strengthened in 
 our times, by the discovery of various remanis of nn- 
 tii|uity similar to those of the old world, and proving 
 the occupation of the country at a more renioie time 
 by a civilized race. Let it be remembered too, that 
 those Indians are altogether unlike other savages, that 
 they have the finest intellectual capabilities, and are 
 brought without diOlculiy into the habits of civilized 
 life. It ia remarkable also that a singular eoincidcncc 
 i.'i found in many of their simple primitive words with 
 those of the Irish, as for instance, isea, water, inis, an 
 island, bogo, aoft, &c, coincidences that could hardly 
 bo the result of chance. How sublime then, is the 
 probable supposition that two branches of the same 
 family, after journeying in directly opposite courses, 
 and making a circuit of the globe, arc again united 
 into one community, after a lapse ot three thousand 
 years! 
 
 We should not take leave of this curious subject 
 without noticing the game of comra, like that of chess 
 
 is proved historically to bo of highest antiquity in Ire- 
 land, lu the will of Cuhir Mor, monarch of Ireland, 
 in tho second century, preserved in the book of Lecau 
 in the library of tho Itoyal Irish Academy, that mon- 
 arch leaves to Crimihuu lilty hurling balls of brass, 
 and as many brazen coman. 
 
 Captain Basil Hall entered tho country of tho Creek 
 Indian in the month of April, 1828. In his own pecu- 
 liarly lively and amusing way, he describes various 
 customs and ceremonies ho saw practise! — but we 
 have at present to do with nothing but the ball-play. — . 
 Fifty strong, stout Indians from one village were pitted 
 against fifty equally strong and nimble from another 
 village — while men, women, luul children were collect- 
 ed to witness tho contest. After describing the prelim- 
 inary ceremonies, tho Captain says: 
 
 'At a signal from one of tho chiefs, the two parties 
 suddenly sprung to their feet, and stood brandishing 
 their stick over their heads. Every player held one of 
 these implements in each hand. They were formed of 
 light, tough wood, I think willow, about two feet long 
 and as thick as my thumb. At the end farthest from 
 the hand, the sticks were split and formed into an oval 
 three inches long by two wide, across which opening, 
 or loop, were stretched two things made of hide. By 
 means of these bats, the ball was struck to a great 
 distance whenever any of the players succeeded in hit- 
 ting it fairly. This, however, was not very ol'ten the 
 case, for reasons which will he stated immediately. — 
 Generally speaking, the ball was grasped or held be- 
 tween the ends of tho two sticks, and carried along 
 over the head by tho fortunate player who had got hold 
 of it. Tho ball was pretty much like that used in 
 Tennis courts, only not so hard, being formed out of 
 raw hide stuffed with deer's hair. 
 
 After the parties had stood for some minutes in si- 
 lence, in two rows facing one another, they stepped for- 
 ward till they camo within the distance of a few leet. 
 Upon some word of command being given by one of 
 the chiefs, every one laid down his sticks before him 
 on the ground. A deputation of the chiefs highest in 
 rank now proceeded to examine and count the p.irties 
 in order to make sure of there being an equal number 
 on both sides. All these ceremonies, and various oth- 
 ers which I forget, being ended, an old man stood for- 
 ward and made a speech, or talk, as it is called, which 
 being interpreted to us, appeared to be formed of in- 
 junctions to the combatants to observe fair play, and 
 to do honor to their country upon this important oc- 
 casion. As soon as he ceased, the Indians scattered 
 themselves over the ground, according to some rules 
 not unlike those of cricket, by which the players might 
 intercept the ball, and send it back again in the right 
 direction. I observed that each of the goals, or w ick- 
 eta formed by the two boughs at the ends, was guard- 
 ed by a cou])le of the most exjiert players, whose duty 
 itwas to prevent tho ball passing through the opening 
 — tho especial object of their atagonists. 
 
 These long-protracted ceremonials apd preperaiions 
 being over, one of the chiefs, having advanced into tho 
 centre of the area, cast the ball high in the air. As it 
 fell, between twenty and thirty of tho players rushed 
 forward, and, leaping several feet off tho ground, tried 
 to strike it. The multiplicity of blows, acting in dif- 
 ferent directions, had tho ellect of bringing the ball to 
 tho ground, where a fine scramble took place, and a 
 glorious clatter of sticks mingled with the cries of the 
 savages. At length an Indian, more expert than the 
 others, contrived to nip the ball between the ends of 
 his sticks, and, having managed to fork it out, ran off 
 with it like a deer, with iiis arms raised over his head, 
 pursued by the whole party engaged in tho first strug- 
 gle. The fortunate youth was, -)f course, intercepted 
 in bis progress twenty different times by his atagonists 
 who shot like hawks across his flight from all parts of 
 the field, to knock the prize out of his grasp, or to trip 
 him up — in short, by any means to prevent his throw- 
 ing it through the opening between the boughs at the 
 end of the pl.iy-ground. Whenever this grand pur- 
 pose of tho game was accomplished, tho successful ji.ir 
 ty announced their rigfit to couut one by a fierce yell 
 
 of irinmph, which seemed to [lierce the very depths of 
 the wihierncss. It was somciiuies highly amusing to 
 see the way in which the Indian who had got hold of 
 the ball contrived to elude his pursuers It is not to bo 
 supposed he was allowed to proceed straight to tho 
 goal or wicket, or oven to get near it; but on tho con- 
 trary, ho was obliged, in most cases, to make a circuit 
 of many hundred yards among the trees, with thirty or 
 forty swift footed fellows stretching after or athwart 
 him, with their fantastic tigers' tails stre anting behind 
 them; and he, in like manner, at full speed, holding 
 his sticks as high over his head as possible, sometimes 
 ducking to avoid a blow, or leaping to escape a trip, 
 sometimes doubling like a hare, and sometimes tum- 
 bling at full length, or breaking his shins on a fallen 
 tree, but seldom losing hoUl of his treasure without a 
 severe struggle. It really seemed as if the possessor 
 of the ball upon these occasions had a dozen ]iair of 
 eyes, and was gifted ut the time with double ipeed; 
 for, in general, ho hud not only to evade the attacks of 
 those who were close to him, but, to avoid being cut 
 off, as it is called in nautical language by the others, 
 farther ahead. These parts of the game were exciting 
 in the highest degree, and it almost made the specta- 
 tors breathless to look at them. 
 
 Sometimes the ball, when thrown up in the first in- 
 stance by the chief, was reached and struck by one of 
 the party before it fell to the ground. On these occn- 
 sious, it was driven far among the pine trees, quite out 
 of sight to our eyes, but uot to those of the Indians, 
 who darted to the spot, and drove it back again. In 
 general, however, they contrived to catch the ball be- 
 fore it fell, and cither to drive it back or to gra-sp it 
 and run along, as I have described, towards the end 
 of the ground. Sometimes they were too eager to 
 make much noise; but, whenever a successful blow 
 was made, the people on tho winning side uttered a 
 short yell, so harsh and wild, that it made my blood ' 
 run cold every time I heard it, from being associated 
 with tortures, human sacrifices, scalpings, and all the 
 horrors of Indian warfare. 
 
 The notation of tlie game was most primitive. Two ' 
 of the oldest and most trust-worthy of the chiefs wero 
 seated on one side, each with ten small slicks in his 
 hand, one ot which was thrust into the sand every 
 time the ball happened to be driven through the wicket. 
 Twenty was game; but I observed these learned sages 
 never counted higher than ten, so that when it bccamo 
 necessary to mark cloven, the whole ten sticks wero 
 pulled out, and one of them replaced. 
 
 Sometimes the ball fell among the group of lookers 
 on, tho women and children of the different villu<'es. 
 It did not signify a straw, however who was in tho ' 
 way; all respect of persons, age, and sex was disre- 
 garded, in the furious rush of the players, whose facul- 
 ties seemed concentrated in the game alone. 
 
 The agent had previously taught me the art of 
 avoiding the mischief of these whirlwind rushes of tho 
 Indians; and it was fortunate for me that lie did so. 
 I was standing on one side of the ground, admiring a 
 grand chase, which was going on at some considcrnblo 
 distance, when one of the players, who was watching 
 his 0])portunity, intercepted the fugitive, and struck 
 the ball out of the other's grasp, Ihougl-i ho was bound- 
 ing along with it at a prodigious rate. The ball 
 pitched within a yard or two of the spot where I was 
 standing. In the next instant a dozen or twenty In- 
 dians whizzed p.ist me, .as if they had been projected 
 from cannons. I sprung to the nearest tree, as I had 
 been instrucled, and putting my hands and Ics round 
 embraced it with all my might. A ])Oor boy, how- 
 ever, close to me, had not time to imitutc my example 
 and being overwhelmed by the multitude, was rolled 
 over half a dozen times, iu spite of his screams which 
 was lost in the clatter of sticks, and the yells and 
 shouts of the combatants, who by this time, had be- 
 come animated by the exercise, and were letting out 
 their savage nature very fast. I felt rather awkward, 
 I must confess, as they rushed against me, and very 
 nearly scraped me ofi'; but I held fast, and escaped 
 with a good daubiug of rosin from llic jjinc-trcc. In 
 
IRISH mSCELLANY. 
 
 213 
 
 hull" a miniito nftorwarils the contest was raging some 
 
 liuiulreils of yards off. 
 
 Wo iliil not stay lo see tlio end of llio game, as 
 tliore was danger of our being lieniglited, an event 
 wliieh happened, however, notwithsranding all our 
 precautions. I have sineo regretted mueh that I did 
 not profit as far as I might liave done by this only op- 
 portunity I over had, or am over lilcely to have, of see. 
 jng ihe hal)its of these people, who are last vanishing 
 from the face of the earth.' 
 
 TUBSER MAC-DUACH. 
 
 The plaee ealled Tubber-macduach, or Tobar 
 Mhic-Buaeh, 'the well of Duacli's son,' is situate 
 about a quarter of a mile from Kinvarra, in the 
 County of Gahvay, on the Loughrea side. Here is 
 a small spring of water, neatly -walled in, and shad- 
 ed by a few hawthorns. The upper wall, apparent- 
 ly of recent erection, is in form a square of about 
 seven feet to the side, having a small stile for the 
 more easy admission of a circular form, fencing in 
 the whole, as represented in the annexed cut. 
 
 On the left hand side as you enter by the stile, 
 you find in the interior of the upper wall a small 
 niclic, intended for holding a cup, and also serving 
 as a receptacle for the offerings of devotees. Unfor- 
 tunately for the guardians of tlie place, however, 
 such tributes now consist of nothing more than a 
 few worthless rags, brass pins, and the like. Mr. 
 Shechan, who when I visited tliisspot, resided hard 
 by, caused a handsome stone cross to be crected'n 
 front of the well, between it and the high road, and 
 the exertions of the parish priest, (llev. ilr. Quinn,) 
 were not wanting on the pious occasion. 
 
 This well seems to have been formerly the resort 
 of St. Colman, who flourished about the beginning 
 of the seventh century. He was a member of the 
 illustrious house of Hua-Fiacra-Aidnc, in Con- 
 naught, and was a near relative to Guare,* ICing of 
 that Province, who began his reign about the year 
 601, and held the sceptre thirty-eight years. The 
 saint was, from his father's name, Duaeh, sumamed 
 Mac-Duach, by whicli appellation he is more gen- 
 erally known than by that of Colman. 
 
 The earliest accounts of Colman's life say that he 
 lived as a hermit in the forests of Burrin, County 
 Clare, attended only by one young clerk, his disci- 
 ple. Their food was water-cresses and wild herbs 
 — their drink the pure spring — and deer-skins served 
 them for clothes. Having constructed a habitation 
 and oratory encircled with trees, they remained in 
 Burrin forest seven years, without conversing with 
 any other person. 
 
 Colman's rcput;ition becoming very great, he was 
 taken notice of by his relative, Guare, who was a 
 pi-incef of great piety and liberality. He offered 
 
 • Guarc's fatlier was Colman, son of Cobhtacli,who was 
 coinin-;rcrmau of Duack, the father of .St. Colman. — ^'idc 
 A A .S S, p 248. 
 
 I LauiRan'eEccl. Hist, Tr Ma. 
 
 Colman as much land as he choo.sed for the estab- 
 lishment of a religious community, but the Saint 
 it is said, refused to accept of more than a small 
 spot, on which he afterwards erected a monastery, 
 and where he became bishop. This plaee was not 
 far from his former habitation, and has, from his 
 name, been called Kilmacdnach. The foundation of 
 that church took place in the early part of the reign 
 of Guare, and probably before the year 620. After 
 a life well spent, St. Colman died on the'3d of Feb- 
 ruary, but the precise year of his demise is un- 
 known. His memory is held in high veneration in 
 the diocese of Kilmacduagh. 
 
 From what has been already mentioned, the read- 
 er will perceive that the hermitage of Colman, alias 
 Mae-Duach, must have been somewhere in the 
 neighborhood of the fountain just described, which 
 springs in the barony of Kiltartan, part of the an- 
 cient Hy-Fiaehra-Aidhne. This well is also near 
 the barony of Burrin*, in the forests which St. Colman 
 is said to have secluded himself. It must likewise 
 bo remembered that he and his attendant are report- 
 ed to have lived upon water and water herbs, both 
 which 'Tubbermaeduach was capable of furnishing 
 theni with. I shall only remark farther, that the 
 parish of Kinvarra, or Kinmarra, in which the spring 
 rises, is a prebend in the dioeesef of Kilmacduagh, 
 which See was, as I have ah-eady mentioned, found- 
 ed by St. Colman. 
 
 Most probably this well, (like many others of the 
 same description,) was used by the Saint, whose 
 name it bears, for the purpose of baptizing converts 
 to Christianity. Thus Archbishop Usher (Promord. 
 p. 862-3.) says that St. Patrick baptized his converts 
 in Dublin, including Alphin, the king's son, in a 
 weU near Patrick's Church, which in after ages be- 
 came an object of devotion for the faithful, and so 
 continued until it was enclosed within the founda- 
 tion of a house in the 17th century. J B. 
 
 * Barren barony was formerly denominated Hy-Locli- 
 leam, and was part of Corcumruaidbe district. The an- 
 cient proprietors of it were the O'Logblins, of the race of 
 Ir, by Fergus-Itiogh and Maude, Queen of Connau^lit. — 
 See Seward Top Hib. title Barren, and Macgeoghagan's 
 Uistory of Ireland, fo. 215. 
 
 t Harris's Ware's Bishops at Kilmacduach. 
 
 + See 1 Macgeogbagan History of Ireland 25S, to the like 
 effect. 
 
 SAUNTERER, 
 
 The etymology of iho word Sauntercr is extraordin- 
 ary enough, and somewhat romantic. In tjjo times of 
 the crusades, the militai'y spirit and religious enthusi- 
 asm of the ago corahiQciT powerfully to impel men of 
 all classes in England to press forward to the Holy 
 War, as it was termed- A still farther inducement 
 with many was the rich and fertile country in which 
 they expected to settle, when they should have expell- 
 ed from thence the enemies of God; and they accord- 
 ingly hastened to sell their lands and possesions, pre- 
 paratory to setting out to join the expedition. Being 
 thus without abode or liome, they naturally threw 
 tliemselves on the hospitality which at that period was 
 readily afforded, especially to those who declared 
 themselves enlisted under the banners of the Cross. 
 A frequent reply then to an inquiry as to the destina- 
 tion or object of any one who seemed to loiter or wan- 
 der about, and to have no settled occupaiion or resi- 
 dence, was, in the Norman language of the day, that 
 he was on his way a la Sainto Torre (to the Holy 
 Land). From this phrase so often repeated, or else, 
 as some have suggested, from the fact of so many hav- 
 ing sold their property, and being therefore sans terre 
 (with out land or home), gradually grew the epithet of 
 sauntercr, now commonly applied to one who is seen 
 idling, or, to use an expressive Irish term, 'stravaig- 
 ing' about without any apparent object or employ- 
 ment. O' G. 
 
 Confine your tongue le.st it confine you. 
 
 CASTLE or DOONA. 
 
 ' On our return homo wo passed the OlclCastlo oi 
 Doona, (County Mayo) once supposed to have been 
 the residence of Mr.s. Grace CiMalley, (Grana Uille) 
 who, if fame tells the truth, was neither a rigid mor- 
 alist, or over particular in her ideas of mcum and 
 tuum. Some wild traditions are handed down of 
 her exploits; and her celebrated visit to that 
 English vLxen, Elizabeth, is fah-ly on record. The 
 castle of Doona was, till a few years since, in excel- 
 lent preservation, and its masonry was likely to 
 have puzzled Father Time himself ; but Irish in- 
 genuity achieved in a few hours, what as many cen- 
 turies had hitherto failed in effecting. 
 
 ' A rich and hospitable fanner, John Conway, 
 whose name will be long remembered in this remote 
 spot, had erected a comfortable dwelling immediate- 
 ly adjoining the court-yard wall of the ancient for- 
 tress ; and against the tower itself was piled in 
 wealthy profusion a huge supply of winter fuel. It 
 was a night of high solemnity, for his first-bom son 
 was cliristened. No wonder then, that all within 
 the house were drunk as lords. Turf was wanted, 
 and one of the boys was despatched for a cleave full 
 — but though Pat could clear a fair, and ' bear as 
 much beating as a bull,' he was no man to venture 
 into the old tower in the dark, ' and it haunted.' 
 Accordingly, to have fair play 'if the ghost gripped 
 him,' he provided himseK with a brand of burning 
 bog-deal. No goblin assailed him, and he filledihis 
 basket and returned unharmed to the company, but, 
 unfortunately, forgot the light behind him. The 
 result may be anticipated. The turf caught tire, and 
 from the intense heat of such a mass of fuel, the cas- 
 tle walls were rent from top to bottom, and one side 
 fell before morning with a crash like' thunder. Nor 
 was the calamity confined to fallen tower and lost 
 fuel. Alas ! several cags and ankers of contraband 
 spirits were buried beneath the walls, and the huge 
 masses of raasoni'y that came down, burst the con- 
 cealed casks of cogniao and sehidam.' 
 
 SPIRIT OF AN IRISH PIPER. 
 
 Macdonnel, the famous Irish piper, lived in great 
 style — servants, grooms, hunters, &e. His pipes wero 
 small, and of ivory, tipped with silver and gold. Ton 
 scarcely saw his fingers move; and all his attitudes 
 while playing wero steady and composed. One day 
 that I and a very largo party dined with Mr. ThonTas 
 Grant, at Cork, Macdonnel was sent for to play for 
 the company during dinner; a table and chair was 
 placed for him on the landing outside the room, a 
 bottle of claret and glass on the table, and a servant 
 wailing behind the chair designed for him; the door 
 left wide open. Ho made his appearance, took » 
 rapid survey of the prejiaration for him, filled his 
 glass, stepped to the dancing room, looked full into 
 the room, said, 'Mr. Grant, yoiu' health and company!' 
 drank it off, threw half a crown on his table, saying to 
 the servant, 'Tlicre my lad, is two shillings for my 
 bottle of wine, and keep the sixpence for yourself.' Ho 
 ran out of the house, mounted his hunter, and gal- 
 loped off, followed by his groom. I prevailed on Mac- 
 donnel to play one night on the stage at Cork, and 
 had it announced in the bills that Mr. Macdonnel 
 would play some of Carolan's fine airs upon the Irish 
 organ. Tlie curtain went up, and discovered him sit- 
 ting alone, in his own dress; he played and charmed 
 everybody — [O'Keefe's Uecollections. 
 
 Good Nature not Always Good. — I perccivo 
 there is in the world a good-nature, falsely so called, 
 as being nothing else but a facile and flexible disposi- 
 tion — wax for every impression. What others are so 
 bold to beg, they are so bashful as not to deny. Such 
 osiers can never make beams to bear stress in church 
 and state. If tbi.s lie good nature, let me always be a 
 clown; if this be good fellowship, let me always be a 
 churl. Give mo lo set a sturdy porter before my soul 
 who may not equally open to every comer. 
 
2U 
 
 UlISIl MISCELLANY. 
 
 THE TWO SORTS OP HUMAN CREATNESS. 
 
 U V D L U M A U K It . 
 
 A TriinKlntion. 
 
 Tw ofold is the in't'dliii'iui men inliiTil : 
 
 Kt't'h isb(.-nu(itiil toluimnii cyo; 
 Until lire wovrii hi tlic louiii of iiiirit ; 
 Yet how (llObiviit nrv (he thremlh mill djcs! 
 Duo Is all in j^lnrhij; li(;ltt arrttyed. 
 While the other ia relieved by i<hndc. 
 
 9uiitikc, one forever flnsliesnoonlighf, 
 
 Kiirnini; by ilK rIoiv the world it warms; 
 'While the other, like the pincid moonlight, 
 Silently by night itii ta^k perlorni^. 
 (Inc will dazzle with its bliiidiuj^ benm, 
 But the other's in n twilight gleiun. 
 
 Tbnt n monntnin torrent, dai'hes wildly 
 
 Over broken rocks itj^ lunining flood; 
 TliN. a rivulet, unseen and mildly 
 Winds its way amonf; the underwood : 
 i'hat o'erlioods and dci^solates the plain— 
 Tbis rclK'shcslt with dew and rain. 
 
 One erects mausoleum.'' prnud and lonely. 
 
 On the ruins of one half the earth; 
 But the other vaunts its trophies only 
 In the grateful tears of rescued worth; 
 One engraves its glorious deeds on stone. 
 But the other in the heart iilouc. 
 
 Trumpet tongues the former's praiccarc swelling 
 
 Round the thrones of Iviiigs it sheds its rays; 
 But the latter in the poor man's dwelling. 
 Finds in nature's blessing all its praise. 
 One to fortune may owe all its fame; 
 But the other builds itself a name 
 
 Greatness hailed by harp and acclamation! 
 
 Boundless art thou as the vault of heaven; 
 But to gain thine altitude of station 
 Unto few of mortal mould is given. 
 Tranquil greatness.' at thy shrine I fall ; 
 Thou alone art in the reach of all. 
 
 SIR WALTER SCOTT'S VISIT TO IRELAND. 
 
 The general life of Sir ' 'Walter Scott, does not 
 properly come within the ohjects of our Journal, 
 and besides must be already familiar to most of 
 our readers; but there is one portion of it which 
 belongs peculiarly to our country, and which has 
 been but little noticed hitherto — his first and only 
 ■visit to Ireland, in the summer of 182.5. 
 
 That he had long viewed Ireland with feelings of 
 considerable interest, there can be little doubt ; 
 deeply engaged in antiquarian research, his atten- 
 tion could hardly have failed to be arrested by her 
 •well known claim to the highest antiquity, and still 
 further by the connexion of her ancient history with 
 that of Scotland, lie had, besides, many old and 
 valued friends here, who had long and urgently 
 s(Uicitcd him to visit them ; and at length his son, 
 (the present Sir Walter Scott,) to whom he was 
 much attaclicd, being quartered in Dublin with his 
 regiment, the 1.5th Hussars, affording an additional 
 inducement, on the Mth July, 182.5, Scott arrived 
 accompanied by >Ir. I.ockhart, liis son-in-law, and 
 his daughter. Miss Scott. 
 
 Our national poet, Moore, was expected in Dub- 
 lin about this time, but he did not arrive during 
 Scott's stay. Mr. Ilailnm, the t.ilcnted, historian 
 of the 'Middle Ages,' was in Ireland, but ivas just 
 at that time engaged in a tour through some of the 
 northejn counties. Sir Humphrey Davy, and the 
 learned Dr. Adam fUarke, were indeedhere, but 
 the former appears to have been engaged with the 
 promotion of his brother's election to the office of 
 Professor of Chemistry to the Dublin Society, about 
 which he had come from ]';nglaiid, and the latter 
 ■n ith the performance of his clerical functions among 
 the Society of Methodists, to which he belonged, 
 and accordingly neither of them appear to have 
 met Scott in society during the short period of his 
 sojourn in this country. 
 
 For nearly a fortnight after his arrival, Scott -n-as 
 occupied in viewing the public buildings and in- 
 stitutions of tlublin. Among the rest, St. Patrick's 
 
 Cathedral, so closely connected with his editorial 
 labors and recollections of Swift attracted his ear- 
 liest attention ; he lingered long l)efore the monu- 
 jnental tablet erected to Swift's memory, and with 
 much feeling translated to the ladies -who accom- 
 panied him, the nervous Latin epitaph inscribed on 
 it, which records. Swift's own words, his hatred of 
 oppression, and exertions in the cause of liberty. 
 The humble memorial of Mrs. Hester Johnson, (the 
 unfortunate Stella,) did not escape his notice ; nor 
 a small slab which Swift placed near tlie southern 
 entrance, anciently called St. Paul's gate, in mem- 
 ory of the 'discretion, fidelity, and diligence' of his 
 faithful servant, Alexander M'Gee. At the Deanery 
 House he was shown the fine full-length original 
 portrait of Swift, which is preserved there, having 
 been painted by Biiulon, in the year 17.38, at the 
 expense of the Chapter, whose property it is. 
 
 In passing from the Deanery to the adjacent libra- 
 ry, founded by Dr. Marsh, Scott was shown the an- 
 cient rcsideneeof the Archbishops of Dublin, which, 
 however, was not deemed worth a visit, as the ex- 
 terior of the building alone retains any interest, it 
 having been some time previously converted into a 
 barrack for the horse police of the city. In Marsh's 
 library he was much interested and amused by 
 some marginal autograph notes, written, chiefly in 
 pencil, in Clarendon's History of the Rebellion, 
 by Swift, in his most caustic and abusive style, 
 containing the fiercest invectives against the Scot- 
 tisli nation. His notice was also called by the li- 
 brarian to a desk of rather rude ^^■orkmanship, 
 which had b''cn long used there by his deceased 
 friend, ilaturin, who being in the habit of reading 
 in this library for several hours every day, had with 
 his own hands constructed this little desk for his 
 convenience. On this, it is said, the greater part of 
 his nov(?l of ' The Albigenses,' as well as some oth- 
 ers of his works had been written. Of Maturin's 
 genius, Scott had long entertained the very highest 
 opinion ; they had corresponded for a long time, 
 and he had invited Maturin to Abbotsford, but it 
 does not appear that they ever met. To his widow, 
 Scott hastened to pay an early visit of condolence, 
 and endeavored to mitigate her sorrows by an act 
 of munificent generosity. He had previously offer- 
 ed, in the most friendly manner, to cdite Maturin's 
 Novels, or selections from them, with an introduc- 
 tion by himself, on his return home from Ireland ; 
 but before he could carry his intentions into effect, 
 tlie disastrous consequences of his connexion with 
 the house of Constable & Co,, which met him al- 
 most on his aiTival in Scotland, compelled him to 
 relinquish his design, and he wrote back to Mrs. 
 JIaturin in the kindest terms, assuring her that 
 nothing but the imperative necessity of devoting his 
 exclusive attention and energies to his own press- 
 ing affairs, .should have made him give up the task 
 he had undertaken. 
 
 ■While Scott was in Dublin, he hoped to have 
 been able to make some valuable additions to his li- 
 brary, of rare books and tracts relating to Irish his- 
 tory, which he supposed he would more probably 
 have met with here than elsewhere ; and he was 
 accordingly indefatigable in his search at shops and 
 standings where second-hand books are sold. More 
 than once he sallied out by himself, at an early hour 
 after breakfast, on this quest. Upon one occasion 
 he was'observed to remain at a book-standing upon 
 the quay, leading to the Custom House, for a con- 
 siderable while, nearly a quarter of an hour, and 
 during that time he never took down a single book 
 from its place, or even removed iiis hands from be- 
 hind his back, contenting himself with patiently and 
 carefully going over the titles of the books inscribed 
 on their backs. He expressed much disappointment 
 at being unsuccessful in his search ; and, in despair 
 at his ill-fortune, he went the day before he quitted 
 Ireland, to the shop of Mr. Milliken, the bookseller, 
 in Grafton street, and there expended upwards of ^ 
 
 £60 in the purchase of books relating solely to the 
 history and antiquities of this country. 
 
 For some time before his visit to Ireland, a very 
 general notion jirevjiiled that he was the author of 
 the celebrated 'Waverly Novels, and this idea cer- 
 tainly was far from diminishing the popularity ho 
 had acquired by his previously nckiiowlcdgid works. 
 This was most strikingly manifested in Dublin, not 
 only at the Theatre, where he was compelled by the 
 reiterated calls of a crowded audience, to come for- 
 ward and return thanks for this flattering welcome, 
 but al^o through the streets, where his carriage was 
 followed by crowds in every direction, who pursued 
 it, an.xious to catch a glimpse of him from whose ' 
 writings they had derived such gratification. It is I 
 said he was much pleased, as indeed was most natu- ,] 
 ral, by these unequivocal demonstrations of public { 
 
 estimation and favor. 
 
 Various tokens of respect and esteem now poured 
 in from every quarter on the distinguished stranger ; 
 of many invitations he accepted, but they were in- 
 variably from private individuals ; those from pub- 
 lic bodies were politely but firmly declined. The 
 freedom of the Guild of Merchants was conferred 
 upon him soon after his arrival, a deputation from 
 the Guild having waited upon him at his house in 
 Stephen's green for the purpose ; and Soon after he 
 was presented by the University with the degree of 
 Doctor of Laws, He hfid also, some time before, 
 been elected an honorary member of the Koyal Irish 
 Afademy, and on the occasion of his visiting Cork, 
 on his return from his tour in tlie south of Ireland, 
 he was granted the freedom of that city at the same 
 time with Major General Sir George Bingham, Ad- 
 miral Plarapin, and Mr. Sergeant Lcfroy. He paid 
 a visit of some days at Old Connaught, the hospit- 
 able residence of the Lord Chancellor, then Mr. 
 Plunkett ; shortly afterwards he dined w ith the 
 Lord Lieutenant, (Lord Wellesly,) at JIalahide 
 Castle, where he resided for liis health during the , 
 summer. 
 
 The first excursion Scott made to the country, 
 was to the County of Wicklow, several of the most 
 picturesque spots of which he rapidly visited. No 
 beauty of sylvan scenery, however, seems to have 
 arrested his attention, or excitefl his interest in 
 the same degree as the ecclesiastical ruins at Glen- 
 dalough, Holyeross, and the Hock of Cashel. At 
 ' that inestimably singular scene of Irish antiquities,' 
 as he afterwards tcnned it in an- article in the (Juar- 
 terly, the ' .Seven Churches at Glendalough,' he re- 
 mained an entire day, with great apparent pleasure, 
 and examined these mouldering monuments of the 
 ancient monastic splendor of Ireland, with an ex- 
 cited enthusiasm which appeared extraordinary to 
 the companions of his tour, to whom he frequently 
 observed that he had never bef9re seen ecclesiastical 
 remains of equal antiquity or interest. He also, 
 with all the ardor of a youthful mind, despite his 
 lameness, boldly ascended the cliff, and entered that 
 extraordinary hermit's cell, called St. Kevin's Bed j 
 and after the fashion of its visitors, inscribed his 
 name upon the rock as a memorial of his daring. 
 
 .Stopping at the inn, at Roundwood, he sent for 
 the well known Judy, and entered into some conver- 
 sation with her ; the circumstances of which inter- 
 view she since details with great delight to many 
 an attentive auditory ; and before dismissing her, 
 he gave her a more substantial cause to remember 
 his visit than mere words. 
 
 The wild and rocky scenery of some parts of the 
 ■Wicklow mountains proximate to Dublin, reminded 
 him of some of the scenes of his native Scotland. 
 From the Phcenix Park, where he was prestnt at a 
 Review of part of Garrison, he had already noted 
 these mountains, forming, as he said, ' a beautiful 
 screen ' along the southern boundary of the county. 
 
 There is a spot about four miles distant from Dub- 
 lin, on the mountain road to Glancree, from which 
 a singularly interesting view of our city is obtained; 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 215 
 
 to this Scott's attention was directed by a friend 
 i\ho was 5vith him. The place wo allude to is one 
 of almost desert wildness ; nothing but heath and 
 rock surround the spectator ; while before him is 
 extended, in all the pride of cultivation, and dotted 
 all over with viUas and beautifully wooded demes- 
 nes, the fertile plain in whicli Dublin is situated. 
 Spread along the entire horizon lies the city, its 
 spires and lofty buildings rising from among its less 
 distinguished structures, till on tlic right, llowth, 
 and the magnificent Lay of Dublin, terminate the 
 prospect. Struck with the sudden transition from 
 the lonely and desert heath to the cultivated and 
 busy plain, he expressed, energetically, his surprise 
 at the contrast, one so remarkable as which, he 
 said, he had never before taken in at a glance. 
 
 It happened that rather a singular circumstance 
 took place befoi-e he had well quitted the spot. He 
 Avas at the time on his way with one of the most in- 
 timate and valued of liis friends, about to make a 
 short visit to a beautiful little rustic villa he had 
 built in the very wildest part of these rugged and 
 desert hills, on the verge of the singularlj' pictur- 
 esque mountain lake of Lough Bray ; and the ear- 
 raige was stopped while they alighted to admire the 
 remarkable features of the landscape to which we 
 have just alluded. As they were about to resume 
 their jom-ney, they perceived a vast number of the 
 peasantry appearing suddenly on the surrounding 
 hills , nearer to them, women and children rushing 
 out of the houses, and an unusiml commotion evi- 
 dently taking place. A small detachment of po- 
 lice were on the road, evidently remonstrating with 
 some of the people, and presently a troop of Dragoons 
 galloped up. As they approached the place where 
 the police stood, they perceived them endeavoring 
 to persuade the people to separate and return to 
 their houses peaceably. One fellow, however, re- 
 sisted more strenuously than the rest, perhaps un- 
 der the influence of valor-inspiiing whiskey, and 
 opposed himself to the police with all the character- 
 istic liardihood of liis countrymen ; he threw open 
 his coat, exposing his bared breast to their bayonets, 
 which, however, they were far from attempting to 
 use, and, with the most frantic gesticulations, he 
 called out, ' Kill me now, do ! — arrah, why don't ye 
 kill me ? — ^just do, now ; kill me if you dare !' — One 
 of the police calmly thrust him back with his hands, 
 and his wife and some other females clinging about 
 him, gradually took him away. The whole ter- 
 minated quite peaceably in a short time. The peo- 
 ple, overawed, retreated to their homes, and the 
 military and police soon drew ofi'. A short explana- 
 tion sufficed to clear up the matter. There had betn 
 a turn-out of the workmen of an extensive paper 
 factory in the neighborhood, established there by a 
 Jlr. Pickering, which gave employment to numbers 
 of the peasantry of the surrounding country, and, 
 in consequence of some difiference with their em- 
 ployer, they had threatened the demolition of his 
 factory, which they possibly would have effected 
 but for the timely interference of a protecting force. 
 Wlule this explanation was being obtamed, Scott 
 gravely turned round to his host, and with iiifmito 
 humor thanked him most wamily for all liis hospi- 
 tality and solicitude for his ent'ertainnrcnt since his 
 arrival in Ireland, and added, that above all he felt 
 indebted to him for his kindness in having so oblig- 
 ingly got up a little rebellion for his especial amuse- 
 ment. 
 
 The situation of Lough I3ray is very remarkable ; 
 embosomed in the mountains, which almost on 
 every side overhang it precipitously, its vicinity is 
 quite imperceptible to the stranger, till a sudden 
 turn in the road abruptly presents it in all its wild- 
 ness and solitary beauty. 'Ah,' said Scott, the mo- 
 ment he caught tlie tirst view of it, ' this is surely 
 the lake of the Arabian tale, where the enchanted 
 fish were, of the situation of which it appeared so in- 
 credible to the Sultan and his Vizier that tlicy should 
 
 be ignorant, it being but a short distancefrom their 
 capital.' 
 
 The amazing retentivcness and fidelity of Scott's 
 mcmoi-y has been often noticed ; one instance in 
 which it was very remarkably exhibited about this 
 time has come within our knowledge. It was oc- 
 casioned by his happening to ask the fricnd.of whom 
 we have been speaking, had he ever heard of a 
 namesake of his, a young Irish officer of great wit 
 and talent, who had been much spoken of in Scot- 
 land, where he had been many years quartered with 
 his regiment, and had left behind him some poetical 
 fragments, evincing taste and spirit. Scott's friend 
 quicldy recognized him as a younger brother of his 
 father's and in a passing way repeated the following 
 little effusion of his, which he just then happened 
 to recollect. 
 
 On MIS8 WHITING. 
 
 Since Wbiting is no fasting dish, 
 
 Let priests say what tbey dure, 
 I'd rattier have my pretty lisli 
 
 Than all their Christmas fare ! 
 
 So gay, so innocent, so free 
 
 From all that tends to strife, 
 Thrice happy man, whose lot shall be 
 
 To glide with her through life. 
 
 But Venus, goddess of the flood, 
 
 Does all my prayers deuy, 
 And surly Mars cries 'D ^your blood, 
 
 You've other fish to fry !' 
 
 Nothing further was said at the time, but several 
 days afterwards, meeting at the house of a mutual ac- 
 quaintance, Scott being, after dinner, in the drawing- 
 room, he took his friend's arm, and walking up and 
 down the room, recurred to these verses, and said 
 ho nearly remembered all, but wished to be quite cer- 
 tain that ho had them correctly. . lie then rapidly ran 
 them over, but at the line 
 
 'So gay, 60 innocent, so free,' 
 he paused, uncertain as to the word 'gay,' for which 
 he substituted 'bright,' and this slight diiference being 
 corrected, he repeated the whole without the slightest 
 mistake of even a syllable. 
 
 The museum of Dr. Tuke, a physician of some em- 
 inence in Dublin, which Scott visited about this time, 
 afforded hira more gratification than even that of the 
 Royal Dublin Society. At the latter he had vainly 
 looked for a national collection illustrative of Irish an- 
 tiquities and history, and expressed much disappoint- 
 ment at finding the IMuseum rather poor in such re- 
 mains; instead of which he was shown a fine arrange- 
 ment of minerals, which, as he oljscrved, he was al- 
 ready familiar with in other places; and it is not a 
 little remarkable, that the Russian Archduke Michael, 
 on visiting this museum, expressed a similar disap- 
 pointment, and stated that he was himself possessed of 
 a much finer and more extensive collection of the An- 
 tiquities of Ireland. At- Dr. Tube's house, on the 
 contrary, Scott's anxiety to sec some specimens of the 
 weapons, ornaments, &c., of the ancient Irish, was 
 abundantly gratified. He remained" there some hours, 
 evidently much pleased, and on his return to Scot- 
 hand, he sent Dr. Tuke a present of two anti(iuo bra- 
 zen vessels wliich had been found there, but yet bore 
 considerable resemblance to some of this country, 
 which he had seen in Dr. Tukc's collection. 
 
 The following morning, (Friday, the 29th, _) he left 
 Dublin at an early hour for Edgcwoithstown, to pay a 
 long promised visit to our celebrated and talented 
 countrywoman. Miss Edgoworth, who, after he had 
 remained a few days, set out witli him on his tour to 
 the Lakes of Killarney. The first object of his atten- 
 tion on his arrival there, wns the venerable ruin of 
 Mucruss Abbey, which he visited in the afternoon of 
 of the day he reached Killarney. Tlie following morn- 
 ing ho was early on the water with his party, though 
 the weather was by no means favorable, there being a 
 stiff north-westerly breeze during the greater part of 
 the day, which came in strong gusts down through the 
 mountains surronnding the upper lake, for which they 
 had cmbaikcd^ They amused themselves for some 
 
 time waking the slumbering echoes of the rocky clififa 
 of the Eagle's Nest by the music of the bugle, or the 
 less harmonious, though grander sounds produced by 
 the discharge of small pieces of ordnance, the reiterated 
 reverberations of which exactly resemble a long suc- 
 cession of thunder claps. There were several p'arties 
 on the Lakes, all anxious to catch a glimpse of 'the 
 great unknown.' After threading the narrow and 
 highly picturesque channel that divides the Upper 
 from Turk Lake, the party landed on Dinis, one of 
 the most beautifully wooded among the innumerable 
 islets of these Lakes, and here tliey dined. They can- 
 not however, be presumed to have been gui led in their 
 selection of a place for that repast by the similarity of 
 its name to that of the little island, inasmuch as it is 
 very generally fixed on by parties visiting the Lakes 
 for the s'ame purpose. The following day was oceti- 
 pied by the Lower Lake, O'SulIivan's Cascade, &c., 
 and thus in less than three days Scott dispatched his 
 survey of Killarney, which, indeed, seemed to fall 
 short of the expectations he had formed, and at all 
 events failed to draw forth those expressions of enthu- 
 siastic pleasure excited by the antiquities of Glen4a 
 lough and Cashel. 
 
 From Killarney he returned to Dublin, visiting in 
 his route, Cork, where, as we have mentioned, the 
 freedom of that city was conferred on him; from thence 
 proceeding by way of Holycross, Cashel and Johns- 
 town, to Kilkenny. At Cashel, it is said, his purpose 
 had been simply to have changed horses, and during 
 flic time occupied by this, to have paid a hurried visit 
 to the celebrated monastic ruins there. JJutno sooner 
 had he caught a glimpse of this majestic and venera- 
 ble pile standing in so striking a position on the snm- 
 mit of a lofty and precipitous rock, than he declared it 
 was quite impossible for himito proceed that day, and 
 a messenger was at once despatched to countermand 
 the horses, and to order dinner; and when asked at 
 what hour he wished it to be on the table, Scott in- 
 stantly replied, not till after dusk should have ren- 
 dered it useless to linger longer among the ruins. At 
 Kilkenny Scott made a somewhat longer stay, for the 
 purpose of seeing at leisure the fine old castle, so long 
 the residence of the Ormond family. The following 
 day he was taken to the Convent, the Black Abbey 
 and Cathedral, and afterwards to the celebrated Cave 
 of Dunmore, three miles from the town. 
 
 On Sunday, the l-tth of August, being tho anniver- 
 sary of his birth, Scott entertained a large party of his 
 friends at dinner at his son's house in Stephen's-Grccn. 
 This was in some degree saddened by the recollection 
 that it was a takc-Ieave party. On tlie Wednesday 
 following he sailed from Ilowth, in the Harlequin 
 packet, with the late Captain Skinner, whose mel.an- 
 eholy fate his friends, in common with every one by 
 whom he was known, and consequently valued and 
 esteemed, have so lately had to deplore. 
 
 It seems that it was a weakness of Scott, {a pardon- 
 able one, no doubt,) to be a little vain of the coinci- 
 dence of his birth-day with that of Napoleon; they 
 were born on the same day, tho 14th of August, 1771. 
 A similar feeding was excited by the fact of tho ini- 
 tials of Shakspeare's name being those of his own. A 
 friend who was staying at Abbotsford happened acci- 
 dentally to be struck by this coincidence on seeing a 
 bust of Shakspeare in the library, the pedestal of which 
 simply bore the letters W. S.; and on mentioning to 
 Miss Scott what had occuircd to him, slie replied that 
 tho coincidence had been some time before noticed to 
 her father, and that he appeared not a little pleased at 
 the circumstance. Byron, it is said, in like manner, 
 took pleasure in remarking that the initals of his name, 
 Noel Byron, were tlio same as those of Napoleon Bon- 
 aparte. 
 
 There is certainly a great deal about the writings of 
 Seott, and especially bis inimitable novels, which can- 
 not fiil to remind every one of his great predecessor, 
 and probably, in no slight degree, master in fiction, the 
 mighty and still unrivalled Shakspeare. AVhether on 
 tlic one hand we look at his vast and intimate knowl- 
 edge of human nature, and of all the various springs 
 of human action, or on the other, his astonishing facil- 
 
216 
 
 IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 >ty of coDiposiiion, tof^thnr with tho briltiancy Bi:d 
 furciblu Irulh of liia lUliiii'aiioiis of per.-oiml vlmractcr, 
 of llio sicncry i>f niuun, niiil tlic surprisiiip iiiilividu- 
 uliiy of llio nciors in lii» liisiurics, which pliicu so liv- 
 iii(;ly before our mental vision llio vcrjr liodilv ahnpcii 
 of l.'ie men ho portrays; nil combine powui fully lo 
 bring to our recollection (riumphi) similar lo those of 
 the grvat dramiitist. In this reapcct, the culo);ium of 
 nn Italian poet. Anion Kranceso Duni, who died in 
 1574, on the 'Novclle Sinpcndc' of Arioslo, are strict- 
 ly applicable lo the great novelist. 
 
 \Vc must however, admit, wiih a writer who Ions 
 since noticed the striking; points of resemblance I'C- 
 twccD thosu two great masters of the imagination, that 
 
 Scott U not for a moment to ho put in competition 
 with SImkspeare, as respects the richness iind sweet- 
 ness of his fancy, or thut living vein of pure and lofiy 
 pociry which Hows with such abundance through 
 every part of his com|iosition. On that level no other 
 writer has ever stood, or perhaps ever will stand. 
 Notwithstanding, in Scott's works thi-re is, beyond all 
 ([uestion, fancy as well us poetry enough, if not fully 
 10 justify the comparison between a writer of our own 
 day with the immortal Shtikspcarc, at least to save 
 such comparison, for tho first lime for two centuries 
 from being altogether ridiculous. 
 
 On leaving Ireland, Scott proceeded to Cnmbcrlnnd, 
 tojoinalargu and distinguished party of visitors at 
 
 Siorrs, tho elegant and picturesque residence of Mr. 
 Dolion on the banks of Lake Windermere, among 
 whom not the least eiriinent was Canning, and after 
 remaining there for but a few days, lie returned to 
 Abbot.'-ford. 
 
 liy the kindness of Mr. AVcld Hartstonge, wo aro 
 enabled to give the portrait of Scott, at the head of 
 this article, engraved from a beaniifnl little medallion 
 licud wliieli he himself presented lo Mr. Uarisiongue 
 many years ago, us a token of friendship. It is iho 
 work of an artist of well known ability, Mr. llennings, 
 the sculptor, modelled in 181.'], and has been consid- 
 ered as one of the most faithful transcripts of Siolt's 
 features that over was niude. U'G. 
 
 IX 
 INCHMORE CASTLE. I 
 
 Tliis highly picturesque ruin is situated on the 
 Kore, about four miles from Kilkenny, and drrivcs' 
 its name, Inehmore, or the Great I.';iand, from be- 
 ing nearly insulated by that oeautiful river. It con- 
 sists of a strong squave keep, of considerable an- 
 tiquity, united to a splendid mansion in the archi- 
 tectural style of the reign of Elizabeth and the First 
 James— the period when such domestic residences 
 •were first erected in Ireland. This was erected by 
 Robert Grace, the Baron of Courtstown, and Mem- 
 ber of Pariiament for the County, who died in the' 
 rear IG.-jS, or IGIO, and was interred in the Cathe- 
 dral of Kilkenny. During his lifetime it was in- 
 habited by his eldest son, Oliver Ciracc, who died 
 before him, in the year ICiT. The Uarons of Courts- 
 town, in selecting and improving Inehmore for a 
 peaceable habitation, were evidently inllucilced by 
 the beauty of its situation ; and when surrounded 
 by its ancient M-oods, and possessing all the varie- 
 ties of landscape afforded by a beautifia river and 
 an infinite variety of ground, it must have been a 
 t:u'y delightful residence! 1>_ | 
 
 Secbet Phater.— Thou shouldst pray alone for 
 thou hast sinned alone, and thou art to tUc alone, and 
 to be judged. Alone thou wilt have to appear before 
 the judgment seat. In the great transaction between 
 thee and God thou canst have no human helj)cr. You 
 can be free before God. 'V'ou arc not going to tell him 
 a secret. You may be sure he will not betray confi- 
 dence. ^Vhetever reasons there may be for any species 
 tf devotion, the strongest arc for those in secrc t. , 
 
 CIIJIOKE CASTI.E, COUNTY OF KILKENNY 
 WISE SAYINGS. 
 
 FROM THE I E I S H. 
 
 The following passages have been translated from 
 the liook of lialimote, fo. 75. The translations are 
 given, as the original is to obsolnte for the present 
 purpose, and the necessary explanations to render 
 it intelligible would require too much room. The 
 first paragraph is from the ' Advice of Cormac Ul- 
 fada, (the long bearded,) to his son,' Carbre, Anno 
 2.54 :— 
 
 ' No fellowship with a king — no falling out with 
 a madman— no dealings with a revengeful man — no 
 competition with the powerful — no wrong to be 
 done to seven classes of persons, excited to anger, 
 viz : — a bard, a commander, a woman, a prisoner, a 
 drunken person, a druid, a king in his own domin- 
 ions. — No stopping the force of a going wheel by 
 strength of hand — no forcing the sea — no entering 
 a battle with broken hands — no heightening the 
 grief of a sorrowful man — no merriment in the seat 
 of justice — no grief at feasts — no oblivion in ordin- 
 ances or laws — no contention with a righteous per- 
 son — no Blocking of a wi-c man — no staying in dan- 
 gerous roads — no prosperity shall follow malice — no 
 coveting of skirmishes — a lion is not a safe compan- 
 ion to all persons — three deaths that ought not to 
 be bemoaned : the death of a fat hog, the death of a 
 thief, and the death of a proud prince — three things 
 that advance the subject : to be tender to a good 
 wife, to serve a good prince, and to be obedient to 
 a good governor. 
 
 Fithil answered, ' a good anvil.' 
 
 ' AVhat anvil ?' say.s the son. 
 
 ' a good wife,' says Fithil. - 
 
 ' How shall I know her •' says the son. 
 
 'By her countenance and virtue,' says Fithil, 'for 
 the small short is not to be coveted though she be 
 fair-haired, nor the thick short, nor the long white, 
 nor the swarthy yellow, nor the lean black, nor the 
 fair scold or talkative w oman, nor the small fruitful 
 who is fond and jealous, nor the fiiir eomplc.xioncd, 
 who is ambitious to see and be seen." 
 
 ' AVhat woman shall I take r' 
 
 ' I know not,' says Fithil, ' Though the large flax- 
 en-haired, and the white black-haired, are the best; 
 but I know" no sort fit for a man to trust to, if he 
 wishes to live in peace." 
 
 ' ^^■bat shall I do with them then !' says the son. 
 
 ' You shall let them all alone, or take them for 
 good or evil, as they may turn out, for until they 
 are consumed to ashes, they shall not be free from 
 imperfections,' answered Fithil. 
 
 ' AVlio is the worst of women ?' 
 
 'Becam.' 
 
 ' AVhat is worse than her ?' 
 
 'The man that married her, and brought her home 
 to his house to have children by her." 
 
 ' ^Vliat can be worse than that man r' 
 
 'Their child, for it is utterly impossible that he 
 can ever be free from villany and malice.' ' 
 
 ' Wisdom is what makes a poor man a king — a 
 weak person powcrfxd — a good generation of a bad 
 
 The son of Fithil the wise, asked him what was! one — a foolish man ircasonable — though wisdon be 
 the best thing to maintain a family or a hoi Be? good in the beginning, it is better at the end.' 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 217 
 
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 IRISH MISCELLANY 
 
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 whioli may be enumerated engravings of the ancient cas- 
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 pluudcred monasteries, convents and abbeys of Ireland. 
 
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 IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
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 NOTICES TO CORRESPONDENTS. 
 
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 should be addressed 
 
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 Boston, Mass.' 
 ITT" We cannot take any notice of communicaUons in- 
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 [ET- Otnt Correspondents should forward communica- 
 tions intended for insertion in the MhrHlany, not later than 
 the Saturdaybefore the day of publication, as our increas- 
 ing circulation compels us to go to press every Monday 
 morning. • 
 
 Jn an article which appeared in this paper two weeks ago, 
 we urged upon the attention of our fellow couutrymen, the 
 necessity of nnikiiig the great West their future homes. We 
 also urged upon them the propriety of leaving New Eng- 
 land in particular, as totally unsuited to them. Since then 
 we have received preat numbers of letters from various 
 parts of the New England States, which convince us that 
 we have given utteiance to the sentiments and feelings of 
 every man who has had three years experience of puritani- 
 cal bigotry. Wc repeat, that the Eastern States arc not the 
 places for Irishmen, and above all, for Irish Catholics. We 
 would urge every man writing to .his friends in Ireland, to 
 caution them to shun these shores and never think of setting 
 foot upon them. 
 
 In thus advising our friends to seek for new homes in the 
 far West, we would caution them against committing the 
 error which too many of us committed here. Think not, 
 that by removing from Boston to Cincinnati or Chicago, 
 you will have removed to the West we speak of. On the 
 contrary, we admonish all to shun the large cities of the 
 West as they would those of the East. There is as much 
 dissipation and crime in the former as in the latter cities, 
 and although many in those places succeed in business and 
 obtain good situations, their numbers are few, compared 
 to the great mass for whom we iutend our advice. 
 
 AVe say then, let every man with a strong arm, who is 
 willing to work, make to the West, whether he has capital 
 or not. It is better he should be felling the forests, and 
 cultivating the prairies of the western countrj-, than work- 
 ing his heart's blood out of him in the destructive and me- 
 nial occupations which lie is allowed only to follow here. 
 
 Let every man with intellect go to the West. This is no 
 place for him. In the West he may attain to as higtl a po- 
 sition on the press, at the bar, on the bench or in the sen- 
 ate, as the native. In the New England States, it would 
 be impossible to find an Irishman employed as a teacher 
 in the public schools. At the press, perhaps, not a dozen 
 men could he found having any employment above that of 
 a mechanic, who were born in Ireland. 
 
 It will be said, it is very well to advise us to go, but where 
 are we to get the means to go with? We will answer, that 
 where there is a will there is a way. Thousands of our fel- 
 low countrymen now working their souls out of their worn 
 and miserable bodies at dangerous, destructive, unwhole 
 some and disgusting occupation's, may, if they wish it 
 abandon them, and return to those pursuits, which at home 
 gave the glow of health to their cheeks, and strung their 
 noble and manly frames with vigor. Be determined ; have 
 a will and you will soon find a way. 
 
 To the Irishman who possesses capital, we say, go to the 
 West. If you become wealthy as the RothscUi d-i you can 
 never attain any social position here. In the AVest, the 
 hatefuljealousies which are here always frowning upon 
 you, scarcely exist; your countrymen fill some of the high- 
 est social, literary, political and judicial positions. I'ur- 
 cLase a farm, cultivate it, and you will feel more indepen- 
 dence of mind, more nobleness of soul than you can ever 
 concieve here. 
 
 For the purpose of assisting our friends in the choice of 
 suitoble localities, we give below a number of statements, 
 from reliable sources, which appeared some time ago in the 
 New York Sun, and subsequently in the Ledger of this 
 city. Having enquired into the matter, we can assure our 
 readers that the facts given below are derived from authen- 
 tic and impartial sources. 
 A gentleman writing from Anna, Union county, Illinois, 
 
 IHlcen dollars per acre, on long credit, andat a low rale of 
 interest. Inipioved farms conveniently near to market 
 tomns, can be bought at from ten to eighteen dollars per 
 acre. 
 
 The country is rapidly improving, and in a few years but 
 little land can he bought within ten miles of a railroad for 
 less than 20 dollars an acre. The iniigration is principally 
 from the Northern and Eastern States. Good mechanics 
 find ready employment and good wages; good wagon, car- 
 riage and plough makers, and blacksmiths especially, will 
 Und the country a very desirable location.' 
 Another writer from Rugby, Michigan, says:— 
 'Our wild lands can be purchased at So per acre, to which 
 must be added .?15 for cleared farms. The soil in gei.erul 
 is fertile and easily tilled. Waterand wood are abundant! 
 The timber is very fine; fire wood per cord, can be had at 
 $1,50 to S2, Our staples are lumber, shingles, stoves and 
 potash. The raising ol stock and sheep has not been fairly 
 tested— our tarmers are new settlers; some have tried it 
 and say it will pay. Ordinary farm produce pays well. Me- 
 chanical employments will pay well, especially blacksmith- 
 ing. Carpenters, wheelwrights, farm laborers would find 
 employment at from .S14 to .S20 per month; mechanics Sl,-50 
 per day. Neat dwellings of four rooms, can be had from 
 Sl,50 to S2 per week. Beef, pork and mutton are sold at 
 sixcentsper pound. Furniture and clothing are as chpap 
 as anywhere in the West. It would require a cash capital 
 of S600 to start a farm of 40 acres. .There is little or.no op- 
 portunity of buying a farm on credit.' 
 
 A third correspondent who dates his letter at Ly Brand, 
 Iowa says: — 
 
 'A farm in this section will cost from SIO to S15 per acre. 
 The face of the country is undulating and the soil is fertile 
 .™d easily cultivated. Both soft .and hard wood are abun- 
 dant. Walnut, hickory and sugar maple prevails. We are 
 amply supplied with water. Our staples are wheat, barley, 
 corn and rye. Beef, pork and mutton are in abundancy. 
 Sheep raising is not protitable. Cattle is especially so ; also 
 the raising of pork. Farm produce is easily and profitably 
 raised. We have a home market for all our own produce. 
 Factories would pay well and mechanical business general- 
 ly. Laborers are scarce and get good wages, say from SU 
 to S16 per mouth. We have a good supply of carpenters. 
 Clothing is dear, furniture unreasonably high. You can- 
 not undertake a farm with less that S800 or SIOOO, including 
 your house and stock. Farms may be had on a credit of 5 
 years by paying six per cent, interest. The Macgrcgor and 
 St. Paul's Eailroad, 16 miles from here, is short of hands ' 
 We shall refer to this subject again. 
 
 THE MILITARY ELEMENT IN THE IRISH 
 CHARACTER. 
 
 We have, in the present number, commenced the first of a 
 series of articles under the above title, prepared expressly 
 for the Miscellany, by a gentleman of universally ack- 
 nowledged literary attainments. These articles will em- 
 brace a history of all the prominent battles fought in Ire- 
 land from the lime of Hugh O'Neil to the seige ol Lime- 
 rick- the deeds of the Irish Brigade in France, Italy and 
 the Low Countries; the battles during the wars of James 
 2d and the Prince of Orange; and those of the 'rebels' of 
 '98 in Wicklow, &c. The whole will form a complete mil- 
 itary history of our country, and will be a valuable addi- 
 tion to our native literature. Wc shall continue the series 
 in our next paper. 
 
 I anele- 
 
 w« 
 
 SUBSCRIPTIONS FOR THE DONEGAL 
 SUFFERERS. 
 
 ?f' i' y?!*'},*^ ^O' Troprietors of MisceUany, 
 M. !•. & r. C, New Haven. <:onn., 
 
 A. Dougherty. Westhoro, Mass., 
 
 B. and J. Ficeman, Newburyport, 
 Will our friends send in their subscription! without d'cliiy 
 
 »s It is our desire to remit the amount reoeivcd, at the e«r- 
 ieet possible moofent. 
 
 S6.00 
 2.00 
 1.00 
 3,00 
 
 says : — 
 
 'The soil of this region, especially in the timbered lands, 
 is unsurpassed iu productiveness; it is light and easily cul- 
 tiv.ated ; the soil is of great depth and richness, capable of 
 receiving and retaining moisture for a long time, and .as a 
 consequence the crops are but little afTected by droughts. 
 
 Winter wheat is the staple crop; the yield is from 20 to 
 40 bushels per acre, of an average weight of from 64 to CO 
 pounds to the bushel. Oats, rye, barly, buckwheat, millet, 
 red clover and timothy, are excellent crofts. Indian corn 
 is grown abundantly in all parts of the country aitfl yields 
 from 50 to 80 bushels per acre ; cotton is grown in the south- 
 ern counties, but for domestic use only ; tobacco is exten- 
 sively cultivated in a few counties as an article of com- 
 merce; Irish potatoes grow well. The soil and climate are 
 peculiarly adapted for the growth of the sweet potatoc. im- 
 mense crops of which are raised. 
 
 Thousands of acres of unimproved land of the best qual- 
 ity in the southern counties of Illinois, are for sale. They 
 can be brought at from 5 to 15 dollars per acre, varyingac- 
 cordingto quality and distance from railroad stations and 
 market towns. The Illinois Central Railroad ('onipany 
 have a large amount of land in this region, fl-oni one to fif- 
 teen miles from the railroad at a price varying from 
 
 OUR NEXT NUMBER. 
 
 The next number of the Miscellany will cor 
 mt and accurate view ot the town of Galway f 
 ig taken on the .'^pot, and executed by our artist in the 
 very highest style of art; also views of Lord Portlester's 
 Chapel, the Ancient Coronation Chair of the O'Neil's of 
 Castlereagh, &c. The Mifcellany will contoiu the usual 
 amount of original and selected matter, and will be issued 
 on Monday next Send in your orders without delay. 
 
 OtJK PArEK. — We beg the indulgence of onr readers lor 
 the quality of the paper on which this number of the Mis- 
 celany is printed. Owing to the destructive conflagration 
 which consumed the extensive paper warehouse of Blessrs. 
 Grant, Warren & Co., a large quantity of paper intended 
 for the use of the Miscellany and manufactured expressly 
 to our order, was destroyed. In this dilemma we were 
 comi)elled to shift as best we could. We have since made 
 arrangements with Messrs. Rice, Kendall & Co., to regular- 
 ly supply us, and the result to our readers will be a better 
 quality of paper than they have hitherto had. With this 
 statement, we earnestly trust that our present deficiencies 
 will be overlooked. 
 
 InTtpk. — A communication from our ever welcome cor- 
 respondent Paudeen, being a vindication of our national 
 character, from the recent aspersions of Harper's Weekly, 
 and other malignant journals, is in type, but owing to a 
 prc.--s of other matter, we are reluctantly compelled to post- 
 pone its publication till next week. A good article nev«r 
 to I lOECe its value by hu.'.banding it. 
 
218 
 
 UnSU MISCELLANY. 
 
 From tlio LiiuL>rick licporter. 
 LIMERICK LAVS. 
 
 ^ T H K U 1 >■ ] 
 
 M C O It M A . 
 
 Tiioninfi, I-Uirl of Dosniond nuirricd IiU vnwnlV dntiplttcr; 
 for tlilti l]i' »'iut d(>|H>so(l by liiH claii^ mid dlrd in vxilt* nt 
 ICoiu'u. Tliu cirouuisluucti Ruvo riau to Mouru'H bcuutitul 
 liui.— 
 
 'By tlio Fculo'a waves bvuiglited.' 
 
 Amid the Kerry mounlaina wild is the i^lormy niKld, 
 KuslicK on Fvalc'i foaoiiui; river lilic a war llur^L• in tlie 
 
 iigM. 
 liunliiiiR, roaring, fqpla«liinR, dashing onward, onward does 
 
 11 lly, 
 lis nd WBlera a (It mirror for tlic troubled, darltened sky. 
 
 O'er llio tall towers of I'urt Castle it llint;otli up its loam; 
 Of M'Corniac— Uesuiond'a vassal— I'urt Castle was the 
 
 lionie — 
 And then it nishcth onward, lil:c a fierce wolf just set free 
 On its iong and stormy jouruey into the wide blue sea. 
 
 The wild beft.its of the mountain crouch iu fear down in 
 
 their lair, 
 Joyless as the darksome night, bide the sweet birds of the 
 
 No living thing is moving, all have to slicltcr fled, 
 
 'Tis a night but for foul witches and tlie orgies of the dead! 
 
 Whcu all have sought a shelter whereto do these horse- 
 men go.' 
 
 Their garments wet, their faces pale, their chargers' steps 
 are slow ; 
 
 To the ford that's by the Castle all toilsomely they ride, 
 
 JSul no earthly steed would dare to swim that angry turbid 
 tide. 
 
 They ride unto the Castle gate, their leader wound his call, 
 M'Cormac started when he heard it echoing through the 
 
 hall, 
 'ITastc up with tUp portcullis, the gates fling open wide, 
 That is the horn of Geraldine our gallant lord, our pride!' 
 
 Into the hall strode Desmond with stately step and slow, 
 In two and two before him hisclansmen humbly go; 
 Hut suddenly he pauseth, as one in wild surprise, 
 And joylhl gleams of gladness light up his large black 
 eyes. 
 
 He sees his vassal's daughter before him humbly stand, 
 No earthly creature seemed she — like one from the heavenly 
 
 land' 
 So queenlike is her beauty — the Earl droops his eyes, 
 Jle dreams he sees before him an angel of the skies. 
 
 Of middle height her fonh, 'twas beauteous beyond com- 
 pare, 
 And like to arbutus flowed down her silky hair, 
 It was so soit and shining, like fairie's hair it gleamed, 
 And beneath the flambeaus lustre it like a halo beamed. 
 
 Her eyes so bright and liquid were as sott and purely clear, 
 
 As the well of St. Beracthina in the summer o( the year; 
 
 And the plumage of Lir's daughters, oh I it never was so 
 white, 
 
 Aa'the face of beauteous Catherine, her lather's pride, de- 
 light. 
 
 Tbc Earl sat beside her, he took her by the hand, 
 He seemed as one transported into the fairy land. 
 And he sat there thinking ever, by that lovely girl's side, 
 By her beauty, oh! how little was his noble's pomp and 
 pride. 
 
 Tlie pillar towers of Ireland lonely stand wiUi haughty 
 mieu 
 
 Yet olteu round their grey walls is the clustering ivy seen. 
 
 It clingeth to them faithfully wlicu all else has po^^ed 
 away. 
 
 And when man has lell them mouldering to ruin and de- 
 cay. 
 
 Desmond's heart was like the pillar tower, no ivy round it 
 twined; 
 
 And though thousand clansmen for him their lives would 
 have resigned, 
 
 'Vet vain was their devotion, there was sadness iu bis 
 breast 
 
 Ahl he had no true and loviug wife to soothe him in un- 
 rest. 
 
 And day by day passed quick away — yet still he lingered 
 
 on. 
 He could not bear to ride away— from Catherine to begone. 
 yiie was his very lite to him — how could he from her jmrt? 
 'Itemember thy high lineage,' wbisjwrcd sometliing iu bis 
 
 heart. 
 
 The gentlest stream will wear away the rugged mountain 
 
 side ; 
 Time will ivear away the castle most lordly in its pride-, 
 K'eu so. the lover of Desmond o'erpowcred all beside. 
 And he vowed that she his only love, should be his only 
 
 bride. 
 
 The were wedded in the abbey one beaming summer's day; 
 The holy uiouk the solemn words all suleiniily did say. 
 In woe or Joy that never should they part from each oth- 
 ers shio 
 And the i>eiisaiit Catherine uprose the Earl's bride. 
 
 Wrillin for the Miscellany. 
 
 'THE MILITARY ELEMENT IN THE IRISH 
 
 CHARACTER." 
 
 IIiLUSTltATKn FltOSI UISTORT. 
 
 Part I. 
 Tliore arc liiit few nations famous for song'wliirh 
 have been fon mi wanting in licioism, und among the 
 small number of cxfoptions to this general rule, Ire- 
 land is certainly not lo ho enumerated. In the old 
 feudal times when the sword and lance of the wurrior 
 was hardly more potent than the poetry of the Trou- 
 badour, the Minnesinger and the Bnrd, Ireland was 
 not behind the rest of the civilized world either in 
 deeds of valor, or charms of song. And even at an 
 earlier period, when the greater part of Europe was 
 wrapped in the clouds of barbarism, before the old 
 Greek idea of uniting bardic poetry with the martial 
 feats of heroes hiid obtained in western Euroi)e, the 
 Bards of Ireland were to be found chronicling the 
 deeds of her chieftains in their various feuds, and stim- 
 ulating their followers, wiih strains as noble as those 
 with which Tyrteiis roused the Spartans to action 
 around their camp-fires. The whole history of the 
 Irish people from the remotest times shows tliat the 
 military element is predominant in their cimractcr. 
 Even from their enemies they have extorted — though 
 generally employed as a rebuke — the credit of being a 
 lighting people. And history attests that their milita- 
 ry (|ualities have been of the highest order. The Irish 
 have proved thcni.^elves the best soldiers in whatever 
 field they have fought, though in this generation no 
 opportunity has ofi'ere.d to prove what they can do as 
 a nation. Individually, Irish valor has been less con- 
 spicuous in the ranks of the British army and has 
 been, of course, ignored. But in our time no chance 
 has occurred for the Irish to exhibit that militarj' dar- 
 ing, skill and bravery, on their own soil and in behalf 
 of their own rights which in former times rendered 
 them consi)icuous throughout Europe. Constitutional 
 agitation, as it has been called, which was instituted 
 as a means for the redress of Irish grievances — and 
 which, opposed to an unbridled despotism, such as 
 British authority in Ireland undoubtedly is, was but a 
 fresh illustration of the attempt of Canute the Dane to 
 stop t)ie advance of the ever-flowing sea by the mere 
 sound of his voice. At what time did 'constitutional 
 agitation' ever effect a permanent good for Ireland? 
 Emancipation, which was won without an appeal to 
 arms, wa.s granted, as confessed by the duke of Wel- 
 lington, througli fear of a revolution. It is true in- 
 deed that the genius, the scholarship, the elociucnce of 
 Ireland's sons have imparted an extraordinary inter- 
 est to her history — created a world-wide respect and 
 sympathy for her people — and given to British litera- 
 ture a rich endowment; but they have reaped no har- 
 vest for liberty. But there is one power, latent now, 
 but still strong, in the Irish people, which in our day 
 has not been fairly tried, ami that is the militarj' pow- 
 er; by which we mean simply the capacity to drive 
 out, by force of arms, the plundering crew who hold 
 the land in subjection and to keep the country long 
 enough to justify stronger powers in recognizing, and 
 sustaining if necessary, a revived Irish nation. And 
 after all, what is there m the memories of the past 
 greatness of Ireland worth preserving except in the 
 hope that she may one day be restored to her place 
 among the nations? If we are content to let her re- 
 main a despised dependency, or permit her individu- 
 ality to be merged in the British empire, to continue a 
 farm for the raising of cattle anil grain for English 
 markets, and a recruiting depot for the English army, 
 I the sooner wc forget her ancient glories the better. But 
 I why should this be so? It is an alternative at which 
 I patriotism revolts, and which her own history refuses 
 j to entertain. 
 
 I For many years cast aside as something not worthy 
 ' to see the light emanating from the fonntain head of 
 
 peaceful agitulion; ignored ns something discreditable 
 to allude to; nay, .tliguiutiscd us dncigcrou-i and im- 
 -noral, the military eleineni in the Irish character had 
 no chance, within tliu memory of the present genera- 
 ation, to establish its claim as an agent in alleviating 
 the sufferings of the nation until the spirit of '98 de- 
 scended into the young, fiery hearts of '48 and the 
 genius of Ireland, hushing the wild lament of her eter- 
 nal song of sorrow, and tearing the cypress wreath 
 from her brow, assumed once more the figure of the 
 armed daughter of Jupiter. 
 
 The history, not alone of Ireland, hut of all Europe,* 
 attests that the Irish are peculiarly a military people, 
 distinguished not only for their bravery but fur those 
 equally essential (|ualilies in a military character, pa- 
 •tienee and endurance under suflering. At Clontarf 
 the stunned and bnllled Dane bore off the record of 
 their prowcfs. Erom Benburb and Yellow Ford, Der- 
 ry, Limerick, Alllilone and Aughrim, the Saxon, 
 whether victor or vancpiislu-d, carried oft' like testimo- 
 ny. At Villa Viciosn, Aleiva and Xativa the dashing 
 bravery of Mahony compelled alike from Spain and 
 Germany an acknowlcdgmct of their valor. At Cre- 
 mona Italy, has written on imperishable tablets a story 
 almost without parallel in military history. At the 
 memorable passage of the Spireback the routed dis- 
 organised Swedes left behind them the trophies of an 
 Irish victory, in their arms Hung away in a nicinent of 
 terror when they fled before the fire of the Brigade 
 from the Chateau of Dudenhavcn. At Fontcnoy the 
 beaten legions of i"rance staked their last chance on 
 the headlong charge of the Brigade and carried ont of 
 the field the noblest record of Irish heroism in the 
 tro[ibics of a victory won in the moment of defeat by a 
 miracle of valor. Nor did the lustre of that heroism 
 pale at the successive seiges of Bruges, Ostend and 
 Outcnarde. 
 
 But we are told that the Irish, though brave every- 
 where — ^victorions in every foreign cause, do cot fight 
 well at home. They have not been successful at 
 home; that is the secret; for there is little credit 
 awarded to the brave when bravery is coupled with 
 misfortune. But it fortunately htppens that History 
 dcmoli.shcs this flippant proverb. The campaigns of 
 Hugh O'Neil, under whom for the first time the Irish 
 people united in a national struggle against the com- 
 mon enemy, tell a dift'ereut story. For though fliey 
 ended in defeat and exile, never before nor since was 
 England so put upon her mettle to vanquish an ene- 
 my so inferior in numbers, in the appliances of war, 
 nay in every thing, save courage, daring, and military 
 skill. At the battle of the 'i'ellow Fold seven thous- 
 and trained veterans of England under Bagnal, fresh 
 from the wars of Brittany and the Low Countries, and 
 well supplied with artillery and ammunition, were 
 driven back to Armagh in a bloody route by the Gal- 
 loglasses of O'Neil who had no cannon and but scant 
 ammunition. The particulars of this glorious victory 
 arc finely described by John Mitchell in his brilliant 
 and inatcbless history of Aodh (J'Kcil that it seems 
 improper to omit them here. 'The tenth morning of 
 August,' says Mitchell, 'rose bright and serene upon 
 the towers of Armagh and the silver waters of Avon- 
 more. Before day dawned, the English army left the 
 city in three divisions, and at sunrise they were wind- 
 ing through the hills and woods behind the sjiot where 
 now stands the little church of Grange. The sun was 
 glancing on tbc corselets and spears of tlipir glittering 
 cavalry; their banners waved proudly, and their bugles 
 rai^ dear in the morning air; when suddenly, from 
 the thickets on both sides of their path, a deadly vol- 
 ley of musketry swept through the foremost ranks. 
 O'Neil had stationed here five hundred light-armed 
 troops to guard the defiles; and in the shelter of thick 
 grass and fir trees they had silently waited for the ene- 
 my. Now they poured in their shot, volley after vol- 
 ley, and killed great numbers of the English; but the 
 first division, led by Bagnal in person, after some bard 
 fighting, carried the pass, dislodged the marksmen 
 fi'om their position and drove them backwards into 
 the plain. The centre division under Casby and Bill- 
 ing, sui)portcd in flank by the cavalry nuctcr Brooke, 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 219 
 
 Moiitacute nnd Fleming, now pushed forward, speedi- 
 ly i-loiirtd t!ic dillii'ult cnuntry, and formed in the open 
 ground in front of the Irish lines.' 'If was not quite 
 safe," says an Irish ehrouieler, (in admiration of Bag- 
 nal's disposition of his forces,) 'to attack the nest of 
 griftins and dens of lions in which were placed the sol- 
 diers of London.' Bagnal at the head of his lirstdi- 
 -vi.sion, and aided by a hoily of cavalry, charged the 
 Irish light-armed troops up to the very entrenchments, 
 in front of which O'Neil s foresight had prepared some 
 ])its, covered over with wattles and grass; and many 
 of the English cavaliy, rushing impctuonsly forward, 
 rolled headlong, both men and horses, into these 
 trenches and jieriflied. Slill the marshal's chosen 
 troops, with loud cheers and shouts of 'St. George for 
 mfirry England,' resolutely attacked the entrench- 
 ments that stretched across the pass, battered them 
 with cannon, and in one place succeeded, though with 
 heavy loss, in forcing back iheir defenders. Then first 
 the main body of U'^'cii's troops was brought into ac- 
 tion; and with bagpipes sounding a charge, they fell 
 npon the English, shouting their fierce battle-erics — 
 'Lamh-dearg!' and O'Donnell Aboo!' O'Neil himself 
 at the head of a l>otiy of horse, pricked forward to sock 
 out Bagnal amidst the throng of battle; but tlicy never 
 met. The marshal, who had done his devoir that day 
 like a good soldier, was shot through the brain by 
 some unknown marksman; the division he had led 
 was forced back by the furious onslaught of the' Irish, 
 and put to utter rout; and what added to their confus- 
 ion, a cart of gunpowder exploded amidst the Eng- 
 lish ranks ind blew many of their men to atoms. 
 And now the cavalry of Tyr-conncU and Tyr-owen 
 dashed into the plain and bore down the remnant of 
 Brooke's and Fleming s horse; the columns of Wing- 
 field and Casby reeled before their rushing charge — 
 while in front, to the war-cry of 'Bataillah-Aboo!' the 
 swords and axes of the heavy-armed galloglasses were 
 raging amongst the Saxon ranks. By this time the 
 cannon were all taken; the cries of 'St. George' had 
 failed, or turned into death shrieks, and once more 
 England's royal standard sunk before the Red Hand 
 of Tyr-owen.' 'After this fight,' says Mitchell, 'all 
 Saxon soldiery vanished speedily from the fields of 
 Ulster, and the Bloody Hand once more waved over 
 the towers of Newry and Armagh.' 
 
 This is but a solitary example of the heroism dis- 
 played by the Irisli when battling for the freedom of 
 their own soil. As we proceed with this subjact we 
 shall demonstrate by various illustrations from history 
 that the military element in the Irish character was 
 not only manifested to some purpose at home, but ex- 
 ercissd a potent influence controlling the destinies of 
 Europe. 
 
 [To be continued. 1 
 
 ■Written for Uie Irish MiscelJany. 
 INK DROPS: 
 
 FROM THE TKX OP THE 'atlEEK COTE.' 
 
 No. 4. — ■\\'ilUam JIaginn and Thomas Hood. 
 
 ' Scnor Kcdac tor, vivo usted rail alios,' which is 
 in our vernacular, 'may you live a- thousand years, 
 llr. Editor.' Now don't you go for to come for 
 to think that (as Henry the Eotirth said to his 
 son, the mad- cap Prince of Wales, when the Prince 
 filched the crown from the pillow of his dad, under 
 the delusion that the old gentleman was defunct,) 
 ' the wish is father to the thought,' for I could not 
 wish my 'direst foe,' .such a hard lot as to live that 
 ' long length of periods,' and bo the Editor of a 
 newspaper ! No, I trust that I have some ' pheel- 
 inks ' left, although, (like the young woman who 
 ■went to the ' rigadoon ' in her bridal dress and met 
 in the ' crowd ' her jilted ' loveyer ') ' my feelings I 
 smother,' as occasion may require ; for you kn'iw, 
 or at least you ought to, if you don't, that as Ham- 
 let says to his mama, it is necessary at times to ' as- 
 sume a virtue if we have it not.' And here, while 
 on the subject of Hamlet, let me say that I do not 
 understand why all actors in their delineation of 
 the character make the Dane a slender, winsome 
 
 looking youth of apparently twenty years of age. 
 This is contrary to the language of tlie play, for we 
 are informed on the authoritiy of the grave-digger, 
 that Hamlet was thirty years old, and his mother, 
 who must be of undoubted authority, says of him 
 during the foil scene between him and Laertes, ' our 
 son is fat, and scant of breath,' proving most clear- 
 ly that he was not only adipose, bnt was also 
 troubled with the asthma. How delicious 'twould 
 be to see a wheezy, short-breathed Hamlet I This 
 would indeed be ' to hold, as 'twere the mirror up 
 to nature.' But it ' can't be did ' now, for you know 
 that ' Ayer's Cherry Pectoral ' is a sure cure for the 
 phthisic, and I suppose all actors are supplied with 
 one or more ' botuels ' of that same. But to stop 
 this digression, and ' come to Hecuba I — 
 
 Maginn and Hood. Two great names Mr. Editor, 
 and belonging to men who were to poetry what 
 Dickons and Thackeray are to prose — the greatest 
 poetical humorists of their time. Hood, as Ball 
 Hughes would say, was ' a heavy ticket, while Ma- 
 ginn was a 'ponderous brick.' Hood's fun is appar- 
 ent at the outset, and puts you in abroad grin from 
 the moment you commence the first line of one of 
 his ' pomes ' 'till you reach the end ; Maginn's hu- 
 mor, is of that insinuating kind which gradually 
 worms — (and here while on the subject of worms, 
 did you ever hear the story of the little negro that 
 was fishijig ? Of course not; who could expect you 
 to. "Well, a juvenile blackamore, was fishing .out 
 on the Jlilldam for white perch, the most delicate 
 of all pan-fish in my estimation, when a passing 
 pedestrian observing something in his ' potatoe trap' 
 as the fancy would say, accosted -him with, ' What 
 have you got in your mouth, boy r' ' Wooras for 
 bait,' was the reply. Of a surety, a neat, cheap 
 and convenient bait-box,) — itself into you like a 
 corkscrew into a bottle Of old port, when lo I.out 
 pops the cork and a gush of the 'rosy' or laughter 
 pours out simultaneously from you or the bottle, as 
 the ease may be. 
 
 I will give you a specimen of Hood's wit — 
 
 TAITHLEBS KELLY GRAY. 
 
 Ben Battle was a soldier bold, 
 
 And used to war's alarms; 
 But a cannon ball took otr liislegs, 
 
 So he laid down his armsl 
 
 Now as they bore him off the field. 
 
 Said he, 'Let otliers-shool, 
 For here I leave my second leg, 
 
 And Forty-secoiid Footl' 
 
 The army surgeons made him limbs; 
 
 Siiid ho. 'They're only pegs: 
 But theie's as wooden members quite, 
 
 As represent my legs!' 
 
 Kew Ben he IcWed a pretty maid, 
 
 licr name was ^'eljy Urny ; 
 So lie went to pay her his devours, 
 
 When he devoured his pay ! 
 
 But when he called on Nelly Gray, 
 
 She made him quite a scoll"; 
 And when she saw his wooden legs. 
 
 Began to take them off! 
 
 'Oh, Nelly Gray! Oh. Nelly Gray! 
 
 Is this vour love so warm * 
 The lovc'that loves a scarlet coat. 
 
 Should be moreunilorni!' 
 
 Sin"d she. 'I loved a soldier once, 
 
 iMir he was blithe .Tnd brave; 
 But 1 will never have a man 
 
 With both legs in the grave! 
 
 'Biifore you had those timber toes, 
 
 lour love I did allow, 
 But then yon know yon stand upon 
 
 Another looting now !' 
 
 'Oh. Nelly Gray! Oh, Nolly Gray, 
 
 For ull your jeering speeches, 
 At duty's call I left my legs. 
 
 In Biidigos's breaches!' 
 
 'Why then,' said she, 'you'velost the feet 
 
 or legs in war's alio'ms. 
 And now you cannot wear your shoes 
 
 Upon your feats of armsl' 
 
 'Oh, falseaiid fickle Nelly Gray! 
 I kliiiw why von relii,«e:- 
 Tluiugh I've nci'leet— some other man 
 
 l» standing in lay shoes! 
 
 'I wish I ne'er had seen your face; 
 
 Hut now, tt long farewell! 
 Fur you will he iny denlh;— alas! 
 
 You will not be my Nell" 
 
 Nowjvhon ho went from Nelly Gray, 
 His heart so heavy got — 
 
 So ninnd his mehMichiilv neck, 
 
 A rcM«' licilicleiiiwiiie'. 
 And l(ir the i-v I ihiie iu life, 
 
 Kulisted in the line! 
 
 One end he tied around a beam, 
 
 And then removed his pegs. 
 And, as his legs were off,— of course, 
 
 ile soon was olf his legs! 
 
 And there he hung till he was dead 
 
 As any nail in town,- 
 For, though distress had cut him up. 
 
 It could not cut him down! 
 
 A dozen men sat on liis corpse. 
 
 To lind out why he died — 
 And they buricdlJcn in lour cross-roads, 
 
 With a stake iu his inside I 
 
 Prodigiotis isn't it ? 
 
 And now for a touch of Maginn's humor; 
 
 There was a lady dwelt in Lcith, 
 
 A lady very stylish man. 
 And yet iu spite'of all her teeth 
 She fell in love with an liishman. 
 A nasty, ugly IiLshmiin, 
 A wild, tremendous Irishman, 
 A tearing, swearing, thumping, bumpiug, ramping, roaring 
 Irishman. 
 
 His face was no waj'S beautiful, 
 
 For with small pox 'twas scarr'd across, 
 And the shoulders of the ugly dog 
 Were almost double a yard across. 
 O the lump of an Irishmau, 
 The whiskey devouring Irishman, 
 The great he rogue, with his wonderful Brogue, the fightin" 
 rioting Irishman. ° 
 
 One of his eyes was bottle green. 
 
 Aud the other eye was oiit, mv dear. 
 And the calves of his wicked loo'king legs 
 Were more than two feet about, my dear. 
 O tlje great big Irishman, 
 The rattling, battling Irishman, 
 The stamping, ramping, swaggering, staggering, leathering 
 swash ol an Irishman. 
 
 He took so much of Lundy-foot, 
 
 That he used to snort and snuffle — O 
 And in shape and size the fellows neck 
 Was as bad as the neck ot a buffalo. 
 O, the the horrible Irishman, 
 The thundering, blundering Irishman. 
 The slashing, dashing, smashing, lashing, thrashing, hash- 
 ing Irishman. 
 
 His name was a terrible name indeed, 
 
 Being Timothy Thaddy JInlligan ; 
 And whcuever he emptied his tumbler of punch 
 He'd not lest till he tilled it liiJl again. 
 The boozing, bruising Irishman, 
 The 'to.xicatcd Irishman, 
 The whiskey, frisky, rummy, gummy, brandy no dandy- 
 Irishman. 
 
 This was the lad the lady loved. 
 Like all the girls of quality; 
 And he broke the skuls of the men of Leith 
 Just by the wa\ of jolilv. 
 
 O the leathering Irishman, 
 The barbarous, savage IrisJimen, 
 The hearts of the maids and the gcntlemeus heads, were 
 bothered I'm sure by this Irishman. 
 
 AVhat a ' stunner ' the respected Mr. Mulligan 
 must have been, eh ? How long do you suppose 
 'twould take a regiment of such ' buffers ' to van- 
 quish the Sepoys ? Not long methinks. 
 
 It was my intention to go further into the writ- 
 ings of Maginn and Hood, in this p.nper, for you see 
 I have but just .skimmed off the first coat of cream, 
 but as you are at present rather pressed for room, 
 I will defer it until my next, when I will entermore 
 at large into the merits of the .subject. 
 
 But ere I leave ofr,inasmuch as I have desired you to 
 'live a thousand years,' I will close with the orient- 
 al benediction, 'may you die among your kindred,' 
 that is, if the world should not luiiipcn to come to a 
 period before you have numbered the years of Mr. 
 Jlcthusclah. 
 
 And now like the monthly rose, I wiU proceed to 
 'bloom.' 
 
 CORRESPONDENCE. 
 
 Dublin-, April 24, I85S. 
 On'Wednesday, the I4tli inst., iSIr. Maguire brought 
 before the British parliament his motion for the sec- 
 ond reading ol the tenant's rights, or 'tenant's com- 
 pensation' bill. It is needless to say that the motion 
 of this genuine Irish gentleman and patriot was sup 
 ported with the talent and good sense which always 
 eliaractcrizes him. He presented an array of facts of 
 the most startling nature; showing the cruel power 
 possessed by landlordi — the despotic and fatal use 
 
220 
 
 IIUSU MISCELLANY. 
 
 made of it, and, perhaps, stnrtlcd some of his hearers 
 l)y iho aiiiiounct.'im.Mit that, in some districts, cspoiially 
 in the county of Kerry, tenants were not uHuwod to 
 inarr}' without tlio consent of their hiudlord's n;,'ents! 
 Mr. Miigiiiro proceeded in that calm, peaceful and 
 conrincing manner for which ho is so remarkable, to 
 place fact upon fact, art;unient upon ar(,'umi.'nt, pre- 
 ecnling testimony before parliament of a nature so 
 damning to Irish landlordism, ns would justify the en- 
 tire destruction of the whole thing. 
 
 The O'Donoglme seconded the motion of the Mem- 
 ber for Dungarvan, and said the question before the 
 hiMise was of the greatest moment tu Ireland; that it 
 was to her a question of life and death — that all other 
 questions sunk into insignificance compared to this. 
 lie produced a marked effect upon the house by his 
 dignified and able speech. 
 
 After a few other speeches had been delivered, the 
 old polilical roue, Lord Palmerston, rushed with inde- 
 cent haste to the front of the fight, and denounced the 
 bill in the strongest terms. It would, he said, be a 
 violation of the rights of property, nay, a transfer of 
 the proporty which the landlord had in the soil from 
 himself to his tenant! There's for you! There's Lord 
 I'almerston for you! There's the man that every 
 member of parliament belonging to the tenant league, 
 but two, voted for, on Milncr Gibson's motion — voted 
 to keep him in power as the Prime Minister of Eng- 
 land and the chief ruler of Ireland! These opinions 
 of I'almerston are not now; he has avowed them often 
 before. Every member of the tenant league who voted 
 to retain him in power, knew what his oi)inions were 
 on this vital question, and knowing them, voted to 
 keep this arch enemy of tenant right in oflice! What 
 is the inference to be drawn from such conduct? 1 
 leave you and your readers to decide. They would, 
 with few exceptions, vote to bring him back again. 
 What has Ireland to expect from such a pack of hum- 
 bugs^ The debate was adjourned until the second of 
 June. 
 
 It is pleasant to turn from these political tricksters 
 and speak of Ireland's great son and incorruptible pat- 
 riot, William Smith O'Crien. Ho has issued bis 
 third, fourth and fifth of the 'Addresses to the people 
 of Ireland.' His object seems to be to draw atten- 
 tion to certain subjects of interest to this country, and 
 comment upon topics which have been so often dis- 
 cussed that it is useless for me to repeat them. I will 
 give one or two extracts from his third address, as I 
 have no doubt they will interest yonr readers, as I 
 have once only in my letters to yon referred to 
 these productions. He says, speaking of Civil and 
 Religions Equality, 'That all persons should be put 
 upon a footing of perfect equality in regard of civil and 
 religious rights or priviliges, is a demand which will 
 be continuously urged by the people of Ireland, until 
 this principle sh.tll be fully established as a recognised 
 basis of legislation and administration. This jirinci- 
 jilo is still violated in Ireland by the maintainance of 
 a church establishment which provides for the sjiiritual 
 wants of little more than one tenth of the population, 
 and by various disqualifying enactments, which are 
 the relics of the ascendency of this minority of the 
 people. Upon this point I confess that my own senti- 
 ments have undergone some modification. Formerly 
 I was of opinion that such c(|uality could be best at- 
 tained by providing, as is the case in Belgium, an 
 equal endowment for the religious ministers of every 
 persua-sion, and, perhaps, if there were a parliament in 
 Ireland, I might still advocate an independent provis- 
 ion by the state for clergymen of every denomination. 
 But so long as a legislative connection with England 
 subsists, this mode of establishing religious equality 
 cannot be realized, for the following reasons: — First — 
 The Catholics of Ireland distrust so much the Pro- 
 testant Government of England that ihey would re- 
 gard such a provision as an attempt to corrupt their 
 clergy by rendering them stipendiaries of an adverse 
 authority. Secondly — The Catholic clergy themselves 
 repudiate the proposal. Thirdly — The people of Eng- 
 land and of Scotland are so bigoted in opposition to 
 Catholicism that they would not consent to snch an ar- 
 
 rangement. In the discnssions which have recently 
 taken place respecting the Ecclesiastical Titles, the 
 'Oaths Bill,' and the College of Maynooth, a« well as 
 in the treatment which Catholic soldiers have ex|ieri- 
 enced in India, abundant evidence has been nfl'ordcd 
 to prove how much reluctanco still exists on the part 
 of the English people to recognise the principle of 
 equality for which wo contend. It may, indeed, be 
 said in regard to the last of these points, that the Cath- 
 olics have the remedy in their own hands. For if the 
 lending men amongst the Catbolfc clergy and laity 
 were to meet openly and declare that no Catholic 
 shonld bo enlisted as a soldier lor the British army 
 unless Catholics were placed, in respect of religious 
 ministrations, on a footing of perfect cciuality with 
 Protestant soldiers, the British Government would not 
 venture to persevere in upholding the injustice of which 
 Catholics at present coni])lain. Employment can now 
 be obtained in Ireland by every able bodied man; and 
 whilst the flourishing colonies of Canada and Austra- 
 lia, as well as the United States of America, offer to 
 adventurous spirits an inviting field of enterprise, it is 
 somewhat strange that so many Of our countrymen 
 volunteer to perish under the burning sun of India. 
 But though Irishmen are fond of military life, yet if 
 the leading members of the Catholic community wore 
 to recommend that no Catholic should enlist until the 
 Catholic soldier shall be placed on a footing of perfect 
 equality with the Protestant soldier, recruits would 
 cease to be found even amongst the worst classes of 
 the Catholic population of the United Kingdom.' 
 
 On the question of 'Education,' he contends that 
 every Catholic in Ireland should be placed on a per- 
 fect footing of equality with his Protestant fellow coun- 
 trymen, and while he favors 'mixed education,' he is 
 willing that there should be separate grants for each 
 religious denomination. He says, 'Personally, I avow 
 a preference for united education. Personally, I would 
 preftir that my children should meet at school and at 
 college persons bt longing to dilTcrcnt religious pcr- 
 snasi(ms; but whilst speaking for myself, I prefer 
 united education, I am not prepared to say that no aid 
 should be given by the state to those who prefer separate 
 education. Personally, I have always upheld the 
 Board of National Education, though I confess, that to 
 me, as a Nationalist, it is most painful to find that in 
 the so called 'National' schools, the history of the Irish 
 nation is utterly ignored, and that everything is dohe, 
 which can be accomplished through the infiuencc of 
 education, to extinguish the spirit of Irish nationality. 
 A boy educated in these schools may learn that there 
 was in Greece a Leonidas and a Themistoclcs — but he 
 must not learn that Ireland sent forth emissaries to 
 propagate the faith of Christ at a time when Paganism 
 overspread a part of Ireland. He must not learn that 
 the Danes were ex|)ellcd from Ireland at a time when 
 they had established their power in half the ports of 
 Northern Europe. He must not leant that there was 
 a siege o.'' Derry and a siege of Limerick, in both of 
 which w.as displayed heroism that ii\ay vie with the 
 brightest achievements of other nations. He must 
 not learn that in IT82, the volunteers of Ireland ac- 
 quired for their country constitutional independence, 
 nor must he know by what means that independence 
 was lost in the year 1800!' 
 
 The subjects in lire two last addi-csses of Mr. 
 O'Brien seem to mo to be very commonplace and un- 
 worthy of that statesman. Surely wc have had 
 enough of agitations, speeches and addresses upon the 
 'Grand Jury System," 'Kuilways,' 'Police,' and 'Poor 
 Laws,' without again commencing at the alphabet of 
 Irish misrule. Mr. O'Brien may have some impor- 
 tant practical object in view. With the exception of 
 his 'council of consultation,' I do not see a practical 
 suggestion in any of his addresses worthy of him. If 
 we are to have nothing better than suggestions upon 
 what he calls 'leading topics,' then it had better be let 
 alone. ^ 
 
 The fact is, Ireland is sick of agitation. Her people 
 take no mtcrest in 'resolutions,' 'great speeches,' 'en- 
 Ihusi.itlc meetings,' 'important addresses,' and all 
 those manner of things. Heaven knows we have had 
 
 enough of them. The whole system of English police, 
 taxes, grand juries, high shcrilVs, judges, education, is 
 a fraud, a swindle, a piracy upon the ])Cojdo of this 
 unfortunate country. It is folly to tamper with it. If 
 we cannot sei/.o the monster by the throat and pull 
 out ita wind-pipe, it is folly to mcildle with the vilo 
 thing. If wo are too weak to rend our chains asunder, 
 let us rest until we gain sulhcient strengih. Ireland, 
 requires rest. On the question of voting supplies for 
 the British navy, a spicy debate took place in parlia- 
 ment. The government affected to make a reduction 
 in the amount necessary to raise some ;!0,00l) seamen 
 and boys. The opposition denounced this paltry 
 economy, and pointed to the critical relations existing 
 between England and Franco. It was said Ihet tho 
 navy of France is equal in point of cfliciency to that 
 of England, and that great difKculty is experienced in 
 procuring men for old England's wooden walls. 
 
 The Duke of Malakoff has been feasted in England 
 and shaken the Royal Duke of Cambridge by the 
 hand. lie protests, in behalf of bis royal master, that 
 he means well by England, and hopes nothing will 
 occur to change the 'happy feelings' existing between 
 tho two countries. Admirable Pelissier! Hero of tho 
 MalakofF! True O'Pelissier! Devil a doubt of it! 
 
 But then you know his illustrious master sworo 
 upon the holy gospels to preserve the French Repub- 
 lic, and he didn't for all that. Dr. Bernard, one of 
 the associates of Orsini and Pierre, has been tried in 
 London and aciiuitted, upon the charge of conspiracy 
 to murder Louis Napoleon. Mr. James, the able Eng- 
 lish laywer, defended the prisoner with great zeal and 
 marked ability. Here is an extract from his perora- 
 tion, and a description of the closing scenes of this 
 great trial. 
 
 'The great object of the French government is, if 
 possible, to establish through you, gentlemen of tho 
 jury, that an exile is not to be protected in this coun- 
 try. It has been the pride of this eonntry to be, as was 
 said by Cicero of Rome, 'Regum populorum, nation- 
 um, portus et refugiurn.' How true has that been of 
 this country! We have had exiled kings here, an ex- 
 iled priesthood, nn exiled nobility; we have had the 
 Emperor of the French an exile here, plotting against 
 the throne of Louis Philippe, and now his object is to 
 destroy that very asylum which afforded a refuge to 
 himself. Will you allow the laws of England to be 
 perverted for such a purpose? You will have the case 
 left in your hands, after an able reply from the Attor- 
 ney-General, by one who will hold the scales with an 
 even and impartial hand. I implore you to let the 
 verdict be your own, uninfluenced by the ridiculous 
 fears of French armaments or French invasions, such 
 as were raised in Peltier's case. You, gentlemen, will 
 not be intimidated by foreign dictation to consign the 
 accused to the scaffold; you will not pervert and wrest 
 the Ian- of England to please a for. ign dictator. No. 
 Tell the prosecutor in this case. that the jnry box is 
 the sanctuary of English liberty. Tell him that on 
 this spot your predecessors have resisted the arbitrary 
 power of the crown, backed by the influence of crown- 
 sening and timeserving judges. Tell him that under 
 every difTiculty and danger your jiredecessors.have se- 
 cured the polilical liberties of the pcojile. Tell him 
 that the verdicts of English juries are founded on the 
 eternal and immulahle principles of justi<-e. Tell him 
 that panoplied in that armor, no threat of armament or 
 invasion can awe you. Tell him that though 600,000 
 French bayonets glittered before you — though the roar 
 ot French cannon thundered in your ears, you will re- 
 turn a verdict which your own breasts and consciences 
 will sanctify and approve, careless whether that ver- 
 dict pleases or displeases a foreign despot, or secures, 
 or shakes and destroys forever the throne which a ty- 
 rant has built upon the ruins of the liberty of a once 
 free and mighty people. (Applause.) 
 
 After the address of Mr. James, the Attorney-Gen- 
 eral replied, and Lord Campbell summed np the evi- 
 dence. The jury having retired, agreed to their ver- 
 dict and returned into court. Having taken their 
 places, a breathless silence ensued. 
 
 'The Cleik.— Gentlemen, are you all agreed? Is 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 221 
 
 thu jirisoner," Simon Bernara, guilty, or not guilty! 
 
 Xlio Foreman, in an emphatic, tone of voice, replied 
 —'Not Guilty.' 
 
 Imnu-iliately on the announcement of the verdict 
 the whole of llic audience rose and cheered enthusiast- 
 ically, which was again and again repeated. The 
 ladies waved their handkerchiefs and gentlemen waved 
 their hats, and the ebullition of feeling in favor of Dr. 
 Bernard was of the most gratifying and enthusiastic 
 character. The cheers were loud and continuous, 
 which the learned judges made no attempt to check, 
 and from the expression of Lord Campbell's features, 
 he was evidently pleased that the judges had, by the 
 verdict of the jury, been relieved of considering in a 
 Court of Appeal the points of law raised in the pris- 
 oner's favor, in the event of his having been con- 
 victed. 
 
 Dr. Bernard was greatly excited, and he was una- 
 ble to restrain his feelings on hearing the verdict. He 
 turned round in the chair, and bowed in every direc- 
 tion to the audience, and waved bis handkerchief 
 again and again. As soon as silence was partially re- 
 stored. Dr. Bernard shook hands with Mr. Sleigh, 
 the gentleman who so ably conducted his defence be- 
 fore the committing magistrage, and addressed the 
 jury and bench. Ho said — 'I am not gutlty — I am 
 not guilty — England has always been and I feel con- 
 vinced will ever be, the land of liberty. It has always 
 attempted to crush tyranny.' ' 
 
 There is a specimen of English friendly feeling 
 towards France, and believe me, it represents the 
 entire people of England. Now for the feeling of 
 France as spolten by two of her ablest journals. 
 
 The Gonstitutionnel contains the following article 
 on the acquittal of S. Bernard: — 
 
 ' The acquittal of Bernard has excited deep in- 
 dignation in France, and the animated sentiment 
 expressed by the Univers on the subject has been 
 understood by every body. We will not dwell at 
 any length on such an acquittal, -whieh throws an 
 unheard of scandal on public morality ; for what 
 man of honor iu France or England could entertain 
 a doubt of Bernard's guilt ? We will merely inform 
 those of our neighbors who desire the maintenance 
 of good relations between the two countries, that if, 
 by misfortune, the address pronounced by Bernard's 
 counsel — that address whieh was allowed to teem 
 with calumny and insults against the Emperor, 
 against the nation which elected him, against the 
 army, and against our institutions — was circulated 
 in the towns, barracks, and rural districts of France, 
 it would be difficult for government, with the best 
 intention, to stay the consequences of public indig- 
 nation.' 
 
 This article is signed Amedee Kenncc, and conse- 
 quently is inserted with the previous approval of 
 the authorities. 
 
 The following is from the Univers : — 
 ' The English jury has acquitted Simon Bernard; 
 the English people have welcomed this result with 
 clicers ; the English judges identified themselves as 
 closely as possible with the scandal of the acquittal 
 by admitting him to bail. The scene was com- 
 plete and cynical. During the trial Mazzini pub- 
 lished a pamphlet, reproduced by several journals, 
 which, in its insolence towards the Emperor and its 
 tlrreats, surpassed the most revolting writings hith- 
 erto produced by tho refugees. If the English Gov- 
 ernment had not desired this result, it follows that 
 the Times rules public opinion. If it had desired 
 it, then is the Times the organ of its opinions. In 
 either case, France has obtained an insight into the 
 secret thoughts of England. As we are neither the 
 sponsors nor the champions of modem civilization 
 in general, and of English civilization in particular, 
 we shall say no more. A question, whieh may be 
 termed the ' question of assassins,' arises between 
 two powerful and friendly nations ; one of those two 
 nations solves the question to the detriment of the 
 other, and in favor of the assassins. This is the 
 
 last and most characteristic trait of European policjuj 
 in the nineteenth century. Let us be sincere and 
 add that in the present state of things the in- 
 famous huzzas raised by the people in the London 
 law court are preferable in our eyes, to the starched 
 compliments with which the municipality of Dover 
 overwhelmed on the previous day the frank n.ature 
 of the Duke de Walakoft". These compliments, in 
 their show of good feeling, were doubless very 
 English ; bnt the huzzas shouted around Simon 
 Bernard betray the intimate feelings of England.' 
 
 So much for the good feeling between the two 
 n.itions. 
 
 *0,'the French are on the sea, 
 
 Says the Shau Van Vocht ; 
 
 The French are on the sea, 
 
 Says the Shan Van Vocht; 
 
 O, the French are in tlie bay, 
 
 They'll be here without delay, 
 
 And John Bull will run away. 
 
 Says the Shau Van Vocht.' 
 
 Parliament has agreed to appoint a Commission' 
 to inquire into the sufferings of the poor people of 
 Gweedoi'e, and the surrounding districts in Donegal, 
 The true facts of this appalling case will be placed 
 before the world, and the sufferings of the poor Celt 
 of Donegal may be productive of good to others of 
 our race. The young Prince of Wales has been 
 paying this part of his future (?) dominions a visit. 
 He seems to be a jolly young fellow, who can ap- 
 preciate the beauties of nature, drink his mug of 
 'hale,' quaff his tumbler of punch, smoke his cigar, 
 and travel as every fellow of good sense should, car- 
 pet bag in hand, without show or ostentation. 
 
 On the 17th, a meeting was held at 19 Dawson 
 street, for the purjjose of raising a suitable testimo- 
 nial to the lamented Hogan. The Provost of Trin- 
 ity College, occupied the chair. The intention is to 
 raise a national subscription in aid of the widow 
 and her eleven children. An excellent committee 
 was appointed, and I have no doubt Ireland will 
 adopt the family of her Hogan. 
 
 AvONMOKE. 
 
 LORD PALMERSTON. 
 
 A eorrespondent asks us for iirformation of the 
 family name and connections of Lord Palmerston, 
 the late British Premier — whether his title is new 
 creation, and why he is not in the House of Lords. 
 The following sketch, will doubtless, be interestiirg 
 to all:— 
 
 The family name of Lord Palmerston is Henry 
 John Temple. The title of Palmerston is Viscount 
 Pahnerston, is Irish, although Palmerston himself 
 is of a very ancient English family, the same as that 
 oi which the Duke of Buckingham is a member in 
 a female line. The Euckinghams retain the name 
 of Temple as part of their compound surname, 
 which is Temple-Nugent-Bridges-Chandos-Gren- 
 ville. The common ancestor of these families, is a 
 Mr. William- Temple, who was secretary to Lord 
 Burleigh in the time of Queen Elizabeth, but the 
 Temples trace their descent further back to the 
 Earl of Chester and Lady Godiva, the heroine of 
 the old legend of 'Peeping Tom of Coventry.' 
 
 The first dignity of the immediate ancestors of 
 Lord Palmerston was that of English Baronetcy in 
 the last century. The title of Viscount Palmerston 
 Avas first conferred upon the grandfather of the 
 present Lord. He is the third Viscount Palmers- 
 ton. We connot answer the enquiry whether ho 
 has any extensive family connections among the 
 British uristoracy. We rather think that his kin- 
 dred are mostly with the gentry, so called, his re- 
 lationship to the Buekinghams being very distant, 
 lie manied the dowager CountCiS Cowpcr, widow 
 of a former Earl, and mother of the Earl lately de- 
 ceased, and . of a considerable family besides; but 
 Loid Palmerston has no children. I^ady Palmers- 
 ton was the sifter of the late Lord Melbourne, the 
 well known Whig and reform Premier, who died in 
 1818. and is a lady remarkable for biilUant iiowcrs 
 
 of mind and fine address. We have not' the date 
 of his birth at hand, but WO believe he was bom 
 about 1781, and is therefore, about 74 years of age. 
 Lord Palmerston sits in the House of Commons 
 as member for the borough of Tiverton. He is not 
 in the House of Lords, because his title is Irish and 
 not English. All the members of the five English 
 orders of nobility — dukes, marquises, earls, viscounts 
 and barons— have a right by birth to sit in Parlia- 
 ment as peers. The Irish or Scotch peers, who sit 
 there have also English titles, secondary to the high- 
 er Irish title, by which they are commonly distin- 
 guished, or have been chosen by the nobility as rep- 
 resentatives. Ireland has twenty-eight representa- 
 tive peers and Scotland sixteen. Some of the names 
 we see most frequently mentioned in the proceedings 
 of the House of Lords are of Irish and Scotch peers, 
 by their Irish titles ; bnt when they are not repre- 
 sentative peers this is only a title of courtesy in the 
 House. They have inferior English titles, by virtue 
 of which they are members of the House. The Earl 
 of Aberdeen, in Scotland, for example, sits as' an 
 English peer by an English title of Lord Gordon ; 
 the Duke of Argyle as Lord Lundridge ; the Duke 
 of Athol as Lord Strange ; the Marquis of Clanri- 
 carde, in Ireland, as Lord Towerhill ; the Marquis 
 of Londonderry is Lord Vane in England. The new 
 Lord Lieutenant of Ireland is the Earl of Egluitoun 
 in Scotland. His English title is Lord Ardrossan. 
 There are many others, ordinarily addressed by Irish 
 and Scotch titles, who have nevertheless inferior 
 English titles, not often used, by whieh they have a 
 right to sit in the House of Lords. 
 
 Lord Palmerston has no English title, and there- 
 fore has no right to sit as a peer in the imperial 
 Parliament. No English peer is a member of the 
 House of Commons. The names of many lords 
 are in the list of members, as for example the Earl 
 of Surrey, the Earl of Mulgrrve, Earl Grosvenor, 
 Lord Stanley, Marquis of Blandford, and others. 
 But these are not peers — but sons of peers, who are 
 addressed in courtesy by the second title of the fa- 
 ther. The Earl of Surrey is the eldest son of the 
 Duke of Norfolk, and would be designated in law 
 only as the Honorable Mr. Howard, commonly 
 called Earl of Surry. The present Earl of Derby 
 sat in the House of Commons during the lifetime of 
 his father, as Lord Stanley (by courtesy), but when 
 the then ministry wished to strengthen themselves 
 in the House of Lords, they made him a peer by the 
 new title of Lord Stanley of Bickerstaffe, which 
 merged in the elder title when his father died; and 
 his son is now in the lloxise of Commons as Lord 
 Stanley (by courtesy), and not Lord Stanley of 
 Bickerstaffe. 
 
 We hope we have succeeded in explaining to the 
 comprehension of our correspondent, what has been 
 frequently made the topic of inquiry by others, how 
 it is that Lord Pahnerston, being a Viscount, is not 
 in the House of Lords ; aud how it is that he, and ' 
 Englishmen bearing titles of higlier orders of nobility , 
 sit in Parliament as Commoners. 
 
 An Extuact. — Nature will be reported. All 
 things are engaged in writing their own history. 
 The plant and pebble go attended by their o-wn 
 shadow. The rolling rock leaves its scratches on 
 the mountain soil — the animal its bones on the stra- 
 tum—the fern and the leaf their moulded epitaph 
 in the co.al. The falling drop makes its sepulchre in 
 the sand and stone ; not a footstep on the snow or 
 along the ground, or on the highest mountain tops, 
 but prints in characters more or less lasting, a map 
 of its march; every act of man inscribes itself on 
 the memories of its fellows, and his Own. The air 
 is full of sound — the sky of tokens — the ground is 
 all memoranda and signatures; and every object 
 covered over with hints which speak directly to the 
 intelligent. 
 
222 
 
 IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 • 80N0S WITHOUT RHYME. 
 
 St-NDAY MOIISIXQ, 
 
 Saturday says to Sunday: 'Sec, I have sent all 
 my i-liildriii ti> l>i'd. They were pretty well tired I 
 cau till you, of their six day's work, and I myself 
 am so knocked up that I can scarcely stand on my 
 Ir-s.' 
 
 As he spoke, the clock struck twelve, and he fell 
 fast asleep never to wake again. Then Sunday 
 says to himself: 'Now is my turn." Ueutly, very 
 gently lie opens tho door of heaven and creeps, still 
 fast asleep, from behind the dreamy stars. He is 
 lazy, and standi a long time yawning and stretcUing 
 his anus. 
 
 At last, he rubs his eyes and walks down tow- 
 ards the house of the Sun, who is snoring in his 
 bright bed room, hidden behind a screen. Sunday 
 knocks loudly at the shutters and cries, 'I say, old 
 fellow, 'tis time to be up!' The other answers, 'I 
 come.' 
 
 Sunday goes off on tiptoe and climbs the moun- 
 tain tops. He smiles, for the world is still asloep, 
 and no one has heard him come. He walks down 
 towards the village and says to the chanticleer, 'Do 
 not betray me yet!' 
 
 At last, when everybody awakes after a good 
 night's rest, Sunday is there, basking in the sum- 
 mer sun; he peeps in at each window, his eyes 
 ecera so gentle and gay that all are glad to sec him. 
 
 Oh! Sunday is a right good fellow! He is never 
 angry when his children wish to sleep just one little 
 half hour longer, and pretend to believe that it is 
 not yet daylight. 
 
 See how the dew sparkles in silver drops on eve- 
 ry leaf and flower. The air seems to have been 
 feeding upon hawthorn, its breath is as sweet as my 
 true love's lips! The bees are humming their busy 
 song, and making honey as fast as they can. liut 
 we must not be angry with them, for they know 
 not that it is Sunday. 
 
 How quiet the village green! Eeach heart, each 
 arm is at rest. You no longer hear the rap-tap-tap 
 of the hammer on the anvil, nor the sleepy tie-tac 
 of the mill. A little bird sings, 'I'll be hanged if 
 the sun has not got up an hour too late!' But soon 
 the flowers and the leaves, the hedges and the nests 
 are as warm as they need be, and robbin red-breast 
 struts about as proud as any king. 
 
 Listen: the church bells are ringing. Come my 
 love, put on your Sunday dress, and when we've 
 knelt before the Lord, we'll walk through the fields 
 to admire His handiwork, and I'll gather you a 
 nosegay. 
 
 X DKEAM. 
 
 My darling is fast asleep. Her loosened hair falls 
 on her shoulders, like the ungleaned wheat scatter- 
 ed, after harvest, over a field of lillies and daffo- 
 dils. 
 
 Althongh she sleeps, a gentle smile quivers 
 nronnd her mouth, like a butterfly fluttering round 
 a budding rose. 
 
 She dreams. Oh ! for the noiseless wings of a 
 fairy-king, that I might whisper in her ear the words 
 I dare not speak ! kind Ariel, be thou my messen- 
 ger. Tell her ! 
 
 ' He loves you well, mavoumccn, he who loved 
 you at first sight !' 
 
 ' Some engrave their true love's name on the 
 bark of the forest oak — yours is written in his heart 
 more deeply than with a knife. The tree may be 
 green and the wound may heal — but his heart is 
 strong and no letter can be effaced until it ceases to 
 beat.' 
 
 ' He loves you well, mavoumeen, he who loved 
 you at first sight !' 
 
 ' Have your eyes told you nothing ? ANTicn you 
 bade him farewell, and gave him your hand, did you 
 not feel liis heart throbbing with the wanu blood at 
 the tip of his trembling fingers ? AVhen he asked an 
 
 ^different question, havo you not seen his seciet 
 quivering on his lips ';' 
 
 'He will love you long, mavournien, he who 
 loved you at first sight !' 
 
 ' He envies the air you breathe, the happy sun- 
 beam that dances on your hair, the glove that kisses 
 your hand, and the ground you walk upon. Oh ! 
 since he left, have you never felt his soul hovering 
 about you, like a bird that loves the sun, singing 
 pleasant songs i Singing that flowers are fresh and 
 fair, but that you are lovelier still ?' 
 
 . ' He will love you for ever, mavoumeen, he who 
 loved you at first sight !' 
 
 'Though the world is largo it has but one spot 
 (so small you could hold it within your folded arms) 
 where he may rest his fond, fond heart, ^\■hy eon- 
 dehin him to travel alone, while others are hoping 
 and building their quiet nests ?' 
 
 ' He will love you for ever, mavoumeen, he who 
 loved you at first sight !' 
 
 My life, my darling, she is still asleep. Oh, that 
 she might hear my sighs! But has she not listened 
 to my messenger Ariel ? Methinks her heart 
 beats quicker, and her lips still smiling, look as if 
 they had just dreamt of a kiss. 
 
 Heigh ho ! if it be nothing more than a dream, 
 what a pretty dream, mavoumeen ; to live two and 
 be but one, to have two minds, and but one thought, 
 two hearts and but one love ! — Irish Literary Ga- 
 zette. 
 
 MISCELLANEA. 
 
 An honest man is believed without an oath, for 
 his reputation swears for him. 
 
 'Cuffee, is that the second bell ?' 'No, Massa, 
 dat's de second ringin' ob de fuss beU. Wa habn't 
 got no second bell in dis hotel.' 
 
 Example is far more forcible than precept. My 
 people look at nie six days in the week, to see what 
 I mean on the seventh. 
 
 The man who walked six hours ' on a stretch ' is 
 an inch or two longer than he was before the ex- 
 curson. 
 
 A person below the middle stature, obser\-ed he 
 could boast of two negative qualifications, viz., that 
 he never wore a great coat, nor ever lay long in 
 bed. 
 
 0, pray let me have my w.iy thie time,' said a 
 young gentleman to his lady love. ' A\'ell, Willie, 
 I suppose I must this once ; but you know after we 
 are married I shall always have a Will of my own.' 
 
 Jtrs. Kugg, "a widow, having taken Sir Charles 
 Price for her second husband, and being asked by 
 a friend how she liked the change, replied : ' Oh ! 
 I have got rid of my old llugg for a very good 
 Price.' 
 
 Mr. , I want to buy a shilling's worth of 
 
 hay.' 
 
 Very well, you can have it. Is it for your 
 father ■' 
 
 No, 'taint. It's for the boss. Dad don't eat 
 hay.' 
 
 A Chinese maxim says : — We require four things 
 for woman — that virtue dwell in the heart, that 
 modesty play on her brow, that sweetness flow from 
 her Ups, and industry occupy her hands. 
 
 A celebrated barrister, retired from practice, was 
 one day asked his sincere opinion of the law. ' Why, 
 the fact is,' rejoined he, ' if any man were to claim 
 the coat upon my back, and threaten my refusal 
 with a lawsuit, he should certainly have it, lest, 
 in defending my coat, I should lose my waistcoat 
 
 so.' 
 
 A gentleman, after great misfortunes, came to a 
 lady he had long courted, and told her his circum- 
 stances were so reduced that he was actually in 
 want of five guineas. ' I am glad to hear it,' said 
 
 she. ' Is that your love for me r' he replied in a 
 tone of despondency ; ' Why are you glad ?' ' Be- 
 cause,' answered she, 'if you want five guineas, I 
 can put you in possession of five thousand.' 
 
 Teacher — ' Svipposc I shoot at a tree with five birds 
 in it, and kill three how many would be left ?' 
 
 John — ' Three, sir." 
 
 'T. — ' No, two would be left, you ignoramus.' 
 
 J. — ' No there wouldn't ; the three shot would be 
 left, and the other two would be Uied away.' 
 
 ' I call upon you, said the counsellor, ' to state 
 particularly upon what authority are you prepared 
 to swear to the mare's age ■' ' Upon what authori- 
 ty r' said the ostler, interrogatively. • You are to 
 reply, and not to repeat the question put to you.' 
 ' I doesn't consider a man's bound to answer a ques- 
 tion afore he's time to turn it in his mind.' ' Noth- 
 ing can be more simple, sir, than the question put. 
 I again repeat it. Upon what authority do you 
 swear to the animal's age ;' ' The best authority,' 
 responded the witness, gruftly. ' Then why such 
 evasions ? Why not state at once ?' ' Well, then, 
 if you will have it,' rejoined the hostler with im- 
 perturable gravity, 'why, then, 1 had it myself from 
 the mare's own mouth !' A simultaneous burst of 
 laughter rang through the court. 'The judge on the 
 bench could with difficulty confine his risible mus- 
 cles to judicial decorum. 
 
 ADVERTISEMENTS, 
 
 SUBSCRIBE! SUBSCRIBE! SUBSCRIBE! 
 
 THE IRISH MISCELLANY 
 PICTURE GALLERY. 
 
 iNDtJCEMEKTS TO NEW SUBSORIBERS. 
 
 On .Saturday, the 3d of July next, we sliall present to 
 each subscriber to the Irish rictorinl Misccllauy, u i<i>luiidid 
 Lithoi^riiphic Eiif^raviug, represeutiu^' the glorious fcciic, 
 which occurred shortly before tlie caiiinrc nf JJnierick, 
 when General Sarslield, who cuiiini:iijilud the lj'i!<h horfc, 
 haviug learned that a larjje supjjiy ol hiaw mi;c ruub was 
 on the way to the cump of the I'rincc of Oniuj,'e, resolved 
 tocapluie them. Crossing over the country by a difficult 
 and circuitous rout, so as to intercept the convoy, he came 
 up in fiont of it at Killuuumnnna, attacked William's 
 troops, deicatcd them and compelled them to retreat before 
 the Irish horse, leaving their artillery iu the hands of Sars- 
 lield. 
 
 Having to rejoin the garrison at Limerick, Snrslield knew 
 it would be impossible to carry with him llie luavv Kng- 
 lish guns through the mountaiii passes, and ilitirniimd to 
 dcsti-oy them. He ordered them to be eh:ir;;.<l lo ili< ir ut- 
 most capacity; and imbedded deeply in Ihf imi Ih. « ith the 
 whole of the bai'gaKC train, which also lull iulo Ids hands. 
 A train being laid, tile spark wii- appliicl :inu in u few sec- 
 oiuls the seige arlillery of \Villi;ini was shaiii'reil into innu- 
 meiable fragments This gallant Ic-al aslonislicd the ICng- 
 lishlroops, gave new couiage lo the Irish, and added to 
 the ^-r.:,! |Hi|iularity of the gallant Surslield. The explo- 
 sion ^lHMlk iliL' ^artli for miles around, and was beard at au 
 
 It is at tilt: mf>inent of the explosion of the English ar- 
 tillery which our artist bus siczed upon for the subject of 
 
 This memorable event will be faithfullv and accurately 
 portrayed. It has not hitherto, given inspiration, an lur us 
 wv can liarn to anv of our Irish arli^ls, and shall now have 
 anihle ju-tici: done it. It wiil make a beautiful picture. 
 Wc shall pre.-i-nt it lo our leaders on a sheet of line draw- 
 ing jiajier, separate fiom the iliscellaliy, suitable for 
 framing. 
 
 It will at once lie seen that we cannot do this without a 
 gieatoutluy of capital. We expect to be reimbursed bv a 
 verv large addition to our subscription list, us no pers'on 
 will be entitled to it who has not paid on or before the 3(1 
 of July next one years' subscripiiun iu advance, dating 
 from our lirst number. 
 
 Kon subscribers will be supplied at Sl,60 for each plate. 
 
 We aiv resolved that our subscribers shall possess a 'pic- 
 ture gallery' wcirthy of the events wc propose tocomini'ni- 
 onltc. This will bv the lirst of a series of NArio.VAL l-ic- 
 TUUKs we proposf presenting gratis to our regular subscrib- 
 ers the second picture of tlic series will be ready earlv in 
 Ocloiier, the suliject of which is not yel decided'on. We 
 should tiel obliged to any of our Iriends who posses-old 
 pictures of remarkable eveuts ill Irish history, or portraits 
 of ili<liiigMi-h..l Irishmen, to forward them to us. 'Jhey 
 shall be taken good care of. and returned. 
 
 J.et uur triends see to their subscriptions ill Season. Our 
 rieluie t.allery will be lit to adorn the walls of anv gentle- 
 man's house iu the countrv, and will, we hope, eventually 
 sujierscde the wielcbed ilan'l.s « hich are ollcn met with. 
 
 Our arnmgcineiits for the liisi picture are almost com- 
 pleted. It will bo absolutely necessary tliat we should 
 know immediately the number of plates we shall want, 
 i^tour subscribers therefore, send in their subscriptions 
 without delay, and be careful to give us their correct ad- 
 dress. We sliall not strike OH* any more copies than are 
 ordered before the above date. 
 
 Will our Iriends of tie press pIea.«o notice this new fea- 
 ture in our publication, and we will take caro that their 
 sanctums are adoriicd with choice copies ot this national 
 picture. 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 22 
 
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 No. 2 Albany Stueut, Boston. 
 
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 » THE SOUTHERN CITIZEN, 
 
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 PBOSPEOTUS. 
 
 IRISH MISCELLANY. Prospectus. On Saturday the 
 13lh day of February 1868, was published the first 
 ncumber of a new weekly i>eriodical, witli the above title, 
 dedicated to the dillusioic ula more intimate knowledge of 
 the literary and political history of Ireland, and to the 
 mental, moral and jiolilical elevation ol the Celtic race ou 
 this continent. 
 
 The ■' /ris/i iVisrillnny" will contain Ifi pages of clofcly 
 printed iiiuller, cm line i,ii].er, of a size similar to tills pros- 
 pectus. I'rite 4 eehls a ccijiy, payable on delivery ; or 82 a 
 
 111 asking Ic, I- ijublie suiiport tor lice Imk Alirr.llaiuj, it ig 
 proiier lo .say, thai il is nut our iuleiilioii to liesjiuss upoa 
 the ground alcc-acly occupied by any of our coleiccicoraries. 
 Welia,e iciarkecl ocil lor oici .-eh ts u euui se cnliieij new and 
 original— on., m.l ocinpiecl l,r aliv oilier piibliealioic in tlcia 
 counlrv. W . iiMi)>o.r I,, euliivule a Held uhicli, alllcuugh 
 nalurailv rich unci leilile, and capable of producing the 
 choiee.st'lloueis and Iruils of literature, has hitherto laiu 
 comparatively barren and unproductive. Into thislieldwo 
 shall enter witli a full confidence ofits capabilities, but with 
 a modest dilhdeuce of the skill which we shall bring to its 
 culture. 
 
 It has long been a reproach to our race here, that while 
 the publications of the day, with but few exceptions, teem 
 with vile carricatures of us and of otir country — while we 
 are continually held up to public gaze as everything that is 
 foolish, absurb and vicious — but iiltle ellort is made to place 
 the true character of our peoiile before the public eye, or 
 vindicate our name and race tioni the calumnies with which 
 English hate everywhere itursues us. 
 
 To correct, in some nieasiiie, this prying evil, it was at 
 first intended to gather togellier a number of Irishinen dis- 
 tinguished in the walks ol literature, and publish monthly 
 a review, which, for sterling talent, sliould be second to 
 none published here or in Knorpe. The great expense con 
 sequent upon an undertaking oltliis magnitude, deterred ua 
 from the attempt, compelled us to relinquish our design, 
 and to substitute instead thereof, our more unpretending 
 " Miscdlang.V 
 
 We propose tore-produce in our weekly periodical the . 
 writings of many of the great minds who have gone before 
 us, while we shall also cull from the current Irish literature 
 of the day, such productions of merit as cannot fail to bo 
 acceptible to our readers. Our country is rich in legendry 
 lore, and the legends of the old land, while they amuse, 
 serve to instruct and to elevate. 
 
 We shall therefore jiublish such instructive tales and le- 
 gends ol a high moral tone, that will remind us of the hap- 
 py times when we — 
 
 'Sat by the fire of a cold winter's night, 
 Along with our friends felling tales of delight.' 
 
 We shall gi\e faithful descriptions and illustrations of 
 Irisli autiquities — of our ruined monasteries, our plundered 
 abbc>s andchuichcs; and our pictorial illustrations of Irish 
 scenci} and antiquities will present to loving minds many 
 famililr serenes of early childhood. We have secured the 
 sei \ ices of talented artists, and each number of the jVlisCel- 
 lany will coutaiu numerous illustrations executed in the 
 best stilcol lit 
 
 We shall keep constantly before our readers the ancient 
 gloij of our country, and while we ponder with pride upon 
 the moial and intellectual superiority of Ireland, when 
 England and the rest of Europe was sunk in ignorance and 
 baibaiism, we shall point to the jiast as an incentive to the 
 future 
 
 ihe biographies of distinguished Irishmen will be an im- 
 poyant featuie in the Irisli Jliscelhiny, as we shall give 
 biographical notices of Irishmen distinguished iu every 
 department of litei-ature, science and art — of men distin- ' 
 guished on the seaand on land; in the church the senate, 
 and at the bar. 
 
 It is our intention to republish the works of Irisli writers 
 now out of print, in such a manner that they may be pre- 
 served to future lime as a meineicto of the old land, and 
 serve to incalcuhlte, in the iciiiicls of the rising generation, 
 alilial regard for the land ol their liilliers. 
 
 We propose commeiieiiig with the Duhtin Penny Journal, 
 a work which in its day eiijo) ed unbounded popularity. 
 We sh-ll devote one half of the Mi^riUanji to each number 
 of that national publication, i'o do this we have ordered a 
 font of tvpe in Irish chnrncteis. so that the poems printed 
 in that .loiinial ill the Irish language can be reprinted in 
 Irish cliancelcis will. Ijiijlish translation in ours. Thia 
 deparlnieut ol llir .1," .■ ''■.,;! // uill be in the bauds of an Irish 
 gentleman eierv v.ii', c. Miieli'lit lo llic; task. 
 
 The remaining eiglil i.ai^vs olllie .IhsM/taiiy will be devo- 
 ted to the current news oi the ihiy.fo origiual articles, talcs, 
 essays, poetry. &c. lie iioiilics we shall endeavor lo avoid 
 those questic^ns which ha\e cli\ided our 'Countrymen, or 
 di.scuss them in a manner i oici of otlence. 
 
 The Irish jlh.vvctfniiy w ill be thoroughlv independent of all 
 political parlies— the slave ornoiie- .'Sueh ccucstions as af- 
 fect Olcr cciciicliynieu here, we shall discuss with freedom, 
 loiisly labor for their moral, intellectual and politi- 
 
 al eh; 
 
 I labors will be divided among several gentle- 
 men of icbililv. and we trust to make the ShVc/Zciav a wel- 
 come guest ai llie lireside of every familv. With these re- 
 marks we eo.imc.cid our sheet to Ihe sli|.port of every well 
 wisher ol oiii niee. We feel there is room for such a pub- 
 licntiou and juoiiiisc that nothing shall be wanliug ou our 
 part to make it ivorthv ol' public suiiport. 
 
 M. J. 'WALSH & CO., PCBLISHEiU), 
 
 No. 4 Water Street, Bosto.n, Mass, 
 [CT-AII Communications to the Editors of the Miscel- 
 lany must be addres,sed— 'Care ol M. J. Walsh & Co., 
 Publishers, Boston. Mass.' 
 
 KELI.V & CPNNlNtaiAM, BILL PO.STEKS and Dis- 
 trilciitors, No. 2 Williams Court, I'.oston, Proprietors 
 
 of all the llll.L HO.MUIS IN the ( irV. Uspeel lullv uu- 
 noiinee to the business eommuccitv ol l;<i-l.iii i.e. I .\. V.crk, 
 tluitthev haveureatlv iiieieasc-d t'lieir lii.iliii.,- l..r Posting 
 and llistribcitiiig Bills, sccch as i'lieiilre, Ccicccert, Lecture, 
 Aueticm, .'Sieaniboat. ( iieus. &c. ,^-c. 
 
 Owing loth., gieal iiieiease in their business, thev have 
 been cibli.,'e.l l.> acl.l Imum-s and waTOUs to their heretofore 
 anqile aecoinumdatioiis, to which they give their personal 
 attention. 
 
 ",*Tliankf\il for past favors they would respectfully so- 
 licit a continuance of iiiiblic patronage. 
 
 KELLY & CUNNINGHAM, 2 Williams Court, 
 
 febl3 Boston. 
 
 SE. SANlUiRN. Wholesale and Retail Dealer in Gold 
 . and Silver Watches, Jewelry, Silver Ware 
 Fancy Goons., &c. No. i:il Federal Street. I'.obton. 
 
 ri"7" Particular ullentiou given to Repairing W^atches 
 Clocks, Jewelry, &c. he. IcblS 
 
y^ 
 
 ©M? fMl 
 
 ^clccfrb cvjircssln fi^r t|c Irisl] |ilistcllanir, 
 
 POETIIY JBY TIIOMA.S DA.VIS. 
 
 A IK.- TliP SwnBCCrlnsr Jljr, 
 Al.t.lUiUO 
 
 ^i:K^-J^^- 
 
 I 
 
 :SHS^S53=SJ 
 
 :it«: 
 
 1. oil I the matxiage,thc marriage, With love, and tno hhuachuil for me, The ladies that ride in a carriage Might envy my marriage to nie ; For 
 
 2. His hair is a shower of soft gold, His eye is as clear as the day, His conscience and vote were unsold When others were carried away, His 
 
 ^^^^^^^ 
 
 ^y- ^r sir' -•- -^ g- g -g: 
 
 « « ; « \-0 • - O O-0- 
 
 Eughan' is 
 word is 
 
 told I 
 ! sure 
 
 i 
 
 --T~N- 
 
 t— U S -- P_l_r 
 
 B 
 
 
 stRiight as a tow-er. And tender and loving and true ; He told me more love in an hour, Than the Squires of the country could d 
 as good as an oath, And freely 'twjis given to me — Oh ! sure 'twill be hap - py for both The day of our marriage to see. 
 
 ■-! J 4 
 
 o.Then 
 Tiien 
 
 ^•^-■3 
 
 
 
 :N--N 
 
 
 -- <i — |i-^ — o-\-*-ri — I — i--\HJ-f-^ — V — I — I +-« — I — 1-— N~i -^ — I \\ 
 
 the marriago.the marriage, With love, and mo hhuacliailior me. The 
 the marriage, the marriage. With love.and mo bkuachail for me. The 
 
 ladies that ride in'a carriage Might envy my marriage to mo. 
 ladies that ride in a carriage Miglit envy my marriage to me. 
 
 
 
 S3 
 
 —\ 1 ■ 1 1 — 
 
 * — ;— « — ; 2 — r " 
 
 His kinsmon arc honest and kind, 
 
 Tiio noighlHiurs think much of his skill, 
 Anil l'](ighan's tlic lad to my mind. 
 
 Though he owns neither castle nor mill. 
 But lie has a tilloch of land, 
 
 A horse, and a sfocking of coin, 
 A foot for tlic dance, and a hand 
 
 lu the cause of liis country to join. 
 
 Then, Oh ! the marriage, &c. 
 
 We meet in the market and fair— 
 
 We meet in the morning and night— 
 Ho sits on the half of my chair. 
 
 And my people are wild wilii delight. 
 Yet I long through the winter to skim, 
 
 Tiiough Eoghan longs more I can sec. 
 When I will Ijc married to him. 
 
 And he will be man-ied to me. 
 
 Then, Oh ! the man'iagc, &c. 
 
 fu/4'o ••Owen ;'' bat Ihal Li, properly, a name among the Cymry (Welsh.) 
 
'Kuji^^^ 
 
 VOLUME I— NUMBER 15- ] 
 
 BOSTON, SATURDAY, MaY 22, 1858, 
 
 [PRICE FOUR CENTS. 
 
 THE CITY OF CALWAV. 
 
 The accompanying cut presents a very accurate 
 representation of this ancient City, from the Clud- 
 dagli, and -will call to the minds of all familiar with 
 the scene many an event of past days. In the more 
 ancient parts of the town, the streets are narrow 
 and irregular ; and many of the houses no w in- 
 habited by, the poorest class of the population, were 
 fonnerly occupied by wealthy and respectable mer- 
 chants and gentlemen. 
 
 The trade and commerce at one time carried on 
 between this place and Spain, was ot the most ex- 
 tensive character; hence it will at once be seen that 
 the style of architecture used in the erection of the- 
 old houses in Galway, is of the Spanisli quadrangu- 
 lar fashion. Indeed the old race seem to have in- 
 termarried extensively with their Spanish custom- 
 ers, as to this day the Spanish cast of countenance 
 
 can be traced in the features of large numbers of the 
 Galwagians. 
 
 The population of Galway was remarkable for 
 great urbanity and elegance of manners, which the 
 extensive commercial intercourse with the chivalric 
 and polite traders of the Peninj,ula, doubless tended 
 to promote. John Lynch, the biUi p of Killala, in 
 his Life of Kirwan, liis predecessor, says, that ' the 
 city of Galway was adorned with grotn marble 
 walls, flanked by numerous towers, and that within 
 the precincts of these walls \\'ere edifioe.s of the same 
 material ; its noble squares and fair proporiioiis, ele- 
 gant and symmetrical, gladdened the vi.-ion, and 
 that it appeared to him, as, Jerusalem did to the 
 prophet Jeremiah, 'a city of mo»t peri'uct beauty.' 
 
 In addition to its beauty, Galway has been equal- 
 ly famed for its piety. llinuccini, the nuncio ex- 
 traordinary, from the Court of Home, said it appear-- 
 
 ed to him to be nearest his id -al of a Christian 
 church. 
 
 Ilardiman, in his Ili.-itory of Galway, thus speaks 
 of the piety and splendor of that city. 
 'Kome boafts fevcu liills. the Nile its feveii fold stream; 
 Ar(niiid the pole ficvcli radient piRiiets glcr.ui : 
 t.aln-ay,C.'oiir,ci.Ta Korec. twice ecjUiils these, 
 Siic l^oiists twice eevwii illustrious ininiiies. 
 Swicusevcu liii;Ii to«CTs dclci.d l]C-r lofty walls. 
 Aim! poJi.^lied luaiblc decks tier splendid halls; 
 Twice tevcii her nia^s-ive gatce o'er which aripc 
 'i'wice seven stron>re;istles, towering to the skies. 
 Twice seven herhiid;<cp, tlirough wbOBc niches flow 
 The f-i!\erlide.-m..jestic:illy slow, 
 ilei- ii:ui)ie chuich with twice seveu altars flames — 
 An heavenly iiatrou e\ci-y altar claims; 
 '.Vhile twice teveu convents picas anthems raise, 
 .Sev( u foi-eiiclisex, to sound Jehovah's praise,' 
 
 'I'he ecclesiastical government of Galway, was 
 placed in the liands of a w-avdcn, or ' quasi ' bishop, 
 v/ho exercised episcopal jurisdiction over a laige 
 
 /-■if 
 r.:oa 
 
 TUE CITY OF GALWAY. 
 
226 
 
 IRTSn mSCELLANY. 
 
 district, but was subject to tho visitation of the | stnniliii;; nnd on the buililiriK of St. AtiKiistinc'g fort 
 metropolitan every llirce years. llo possessed a in icr>'.>, it wiis ik»ln>ynl Icsl it bhoiikl be furliliud 
 
 power of vi.Hitation over nil roligious foundations 
 within the Avardenship, and was entitled to vote in 
 8)Tiod with mitre, crozier luid pontificals, as other 
 prelates. 
 
 The collegiate church of St. Nicholas -was found- 
 ed in the year 13'20, and to tliis day, in its c.\tent 
 and architectural beauty attests the piety, wealth, 
 and public spirit of its founders. The oIKce of war- 
 den has been tilled by ninny learned and pious di- 
 vines ; but as each warden was elected triennially 
 by the lay patrons of the town, considerable ill- 
 feeling was, at times, excited between the ' tribes ' 
 nnd ' non tribes," in the election of their particular 
 representatives. Much dissatisfaction arose from 
 these disputes, which were not uufrequcntly carried 
 to Rome. At length, in 1S31, the wardenship was 
 abolished by the Pope, and Gahvay was erected in- 
 to a liishopric. Kdmund French, a convert to the 
 Catholic church, being the last warden of G.ilway. 
 • In laac, Sir William do Burgh (tho gray) foiincled 
 tlio Franciscan Monastery, it St. Stephen's Island, 
 without tho north gate; he died A. D. 1324, and was 
 interred in the abbey. 
 
 In 151;), Maurice O'Fihcly, known as 'Flos mundi,' 
 the flower of the world, died and was interred in this 
 monastery. His monument still exists and is pointed 
 out to the visitor. 
 
 In 1C57, all the buildings of the abbey were demol- 
 ished, except the church, in which assizes were held. 
 
 In 167S, the members of this and the other religious 
 houses of the town were banished, l)ut afterwards gr.id- 
 nally returned, and for many years felt the full force 
 of the penal laws, suffering the most severe pcrsecu- 
 eions, being frequently cast into prison, tried, trans- 
 ported, and frequently in danger of their lives. G.il- 
 ■way was one of tho chief places in Ireland which af- 
 forded refuge to the proscribed ecclesiastics of the 
 Tcligioas orders, until the mitigation of the penal 
 laws. 
 
 Tho Dominican friary is situated on an elevated 
 spot near the sea-shore, in the west part of tho town, 
 on the site of an ancient convent of 'St. Mary of the 
 hill," a daughter of the Holy Trinity of the I'reinon- 
 Strauses of Tuam, which was founded by tho O'llal- 
 lorans. The inhabitants of the town having petitioned 
 Pope Innocent Vlll., it was granted to the Domini- 
 cans of Athein-y in 1488. It was afterwards richly en- 
 dowed, and considerable additions were made to the 
 church and monastery. 
 
 James Lynch Fitstephen was mayor of Galway, in 
 149.1, and became celebrated for having with his own 
 hands executed his only son, who had taken the life 
 of a yonng Spaniard, tho guest of the mayor. He 
 erected the choir of this church. 
 
 In 1C42, Lord Forbes landed at Galway nnd took 
 possession of this church, which he converted into a 
 battery with the design of re lacing the town. Failing 
 in this, he defaced the church, nnd in his brutal rage 
 dug up the graves and burned the coUiits and bones of 
 the dead. 
 
 In (C")2, the friars surrendered the church and 
 monastery 10 the corporation, which were soon after 
 razed to the ground, lest they should be converted into 
 a fortification by the troops of Cromwell and used 
 against the town. 
 
 The Augustinian friary was situated on an eminence 
 near the sea, in the south suburbs of the town, within 
 a few hundred yards of the walls. It was founded in 
 1508, by Margaret Ashby, wife of Stephen Lynch Fitz 
 Dominick, at the instance of Richard Nangle, en 
 Au"ustinian hermit, who afterwards became Arch- 
 bishop of Tuam. 
 
 In 1570, Queen Elizabeth granted to tho corpora- 
 tion part of the possessions of this monastery there 
 lately dissolved. Jame I., in 1603, granted all its 
 possessions to Sir George Carew forever. 
 
 The friars, on the suppression of the monastery, re- 
 moved to a large house within tho town which they 
 - occupied for many years. The church remained 
 
 against the town. Since then not a vcsligc of it re- 
 mains. 
 
 Knights Templars wci» established beyond the east 
 gate. The order was BuppressecJ in 1312 and its pos- 
 sessions given to tho Jiospitallers of St. John of Jeru- 
 salem. 
 
 The Franciscan lumncry ef St. Clare was estab- 
 lished in 1511, by Walter lynch Fitz Thomas, who 
 was mayor of Gnlwny in 1504. He gave to his daugli- 
 ler a dwelling-house near tho church of St. Nicholas, 
 which was afterwards known as 'the houso of tho poor 
 nuns of the third order of St. Francis.' 
 
 In 1641), tho corporation granted a piece of land to 
 these nuns] in island Attenough, nt the west end of the 
 town, on which they erected a handsome convent. 
 On tho surrender of Galway in 1652 to the troops of 
 tho parliamentarians, these pions ladies had to leave 
 tho country, and for years after endured tho miseries 
 of a comfortless exile. A change nt length took place 
 during tho reign of James II., and such of them as 
 survived returned to tho city, where tho order still 
 exists. 
 
 In 16S8, tho persecutions against Catholicity raged 
 with fearful violence, and the Galwayans felt the full 
 force of its cruel and malignant thirst. On the 1st of 
 May all the convents of the town were broken into by 
 the military, the chapel torn down, nnd tlio emblems 
 of religion defaced and destroyed. The nuns again 
 felt the rigors of the penal laws — the fell spirit of 
 Satan wreaking his deadly hato upon their devoted 
 heads. Weak nnd deftinceless — their lives dedicated 
 to works of piety and chanty; loving even their most 
 cruel enemies with the love of their Divine Master; in- 
 capable of injuring any one, they were again com- 
 pelled to fly in disguise, nnd sought shelter with their 
 friends in the country, until the persecution somewhat 
 ttbating, they ventured back to their former dwellings 
 where they remained unmolested until 1712, when the 
 Mayor of Galway, Edward Eyre, was directed to sup- 
 press these holy places. Helpless nnd defenceless, 
 the servants of God were again turned out of doors, 
 and after a time succeeded in making their way to 
 Dublin. Their appearance in the city being noticed, 
 cry was raised agninst them and they were arrested in 
 the habits of tlieir order. A proclamation dated Septr., 
 1712, was in consequence issued, ordering the arrest 
 of John Bourke, the Archbishop of Dublin, and Dr. 
 Nary, popish jn-icsts, v. ho presu nod to exercise eccle- 
 siastical jurisdiction, contrary to the laws of the realm, 
 and it was ordered that all laws against tho Papists 
 should be strictly enforced. The convents of Galway 
 were converted into barracks for the use of a licentious 
 soldiery, and the abodes of solitude and prayer became 
 the scenes of licentiousness and riot. Tho storm 
 again passed over and they once more retruned to 
 their former homes. In 1731 they again subjected to 
 further annoyance, since then they have not been dis- 
 turbed. 
 
 Tho Dominican nunnery was founded about the 
 year 1644, and Father Gregory French, a learned Do- 
 minican, eminent for his virtues, was appointed the 
 first superior. He was afterwards banished from his 
 native country nnd died in Italy, an exile. 
 
 Cromwell with his fierce nnd relentless troops, cap- 
 tured Galway in 1648, nnd the nuns with their vicar, 
 Ftther Gregory O'Fcrral, retired to Spain. Two 
 only of their number survived. In 1685, they re- 
 turned to Ireland by direction of their provincial, and 
 Mary Lynch was njipointed prioress, and the compan- 
 ion of her exile, Julia Nowlan, sub-prioress; before the 
 end of two years tho order wns again completely es 
 tablished in tho 'city of tho tribes,' but in 1698, they 
 were again dispersed. 
 
 O'llaync, the historian of these scenes, says: — 'It 
 was most deplorable to witness tho cries nnd tears of 
 tliose oppressed females, thcur very persecutors were 
 moved to compassion.' The convent was again con- 
 verted into a banack; the nuns however secreted them- 
 selves in town among their friends, under the direc- 
 tion of their prioress Julia Nowlan. Death put a pe- 
 
 riod to her snn'erings in 1691, at tho a({c of ninety 
 years. 
 
 The Augustinian nunnery was established in Middle 
 Street, early in tho eighteenth century. A nunnery to 
 the west of the to^vn was situated in an island LougU 
 Ccyrib. 
 
 Our wanbof space coropeU us to make these chron- 
 icles of the ancient city as brief as possible, and pass 
 over many events of great interest, to which wo 
 should be doing injustice to refer, without giving 
 them the notice which "their importance requires. 
 
 Galway is situate on the west coast of Ireland, 
 nnd on the north side of Galway Buy, one of tho 
 finest in Europe, at the mouth of the Corrib, issu- 
 ing from Lough 'Corrib. The Bay is 18 miles broad 
 at its seaward extremity, diminishing to abont 8 
 miles inland, and being about 20 miles long East to 
 AVest. It is protected from the swell of the Atlantic 
 by the Arran Isles. Some efforts were made a few 
 years ago to connect Ireland more closely with this 
 Continent bymeansof steam navigation, direct with 
 Galway ; but their efforts failed. To us, it has long 
 been a matter of great surprise why Irelund docs 
 not establish a trans-atlnntic steam.ship company of 
 her own, by her own energy, without continually 
 begging assistance. Her railways, that is, those 
 managed by Irishmen, are the best conducted in tho 
 world, and pay a good per-centage upon the capital 
 invested. Those managed by Englishmen are in a 
 ruinous condition. If Ireland would apply her own 
 native energy to the task, we should soon have her 
 steamship crossing the Atlantic, bringing here the 
 product of that countj-y, and returning with those 
 of this. If William Dargan would but direct the 
 energies of his iiracticalmind to this important sub- 
 ject, the waters of Galway Bay would soon witness 
 the departure of one Irish steamship for these shores. 
 
 The principal buildings of the town at the present 
 day, are the Queen's College ; the established col- 
 legiate church of St. Nicholas, above referred to ; a 
 number of Roman Catholic chapels ; three monas- 
 teries ; five nuneries ; Presbyterian and Methodist 
 mcetiiig houses ; the county and town court house, 
 both handsome Grecian structures; prisons, eoimty 
 infirmary, fever hospital, chnrter school, (endowed) 
 the union work house, (emblem of poverty,) and 
 two barracks, (emblems of despotism.) The build- 
 ings of the Franciscan nunnery, and of the presen- 
 tation convent arc extensive and inii)0sing struc- 
 tures. The inmates of the latter, are numerous and 
 nearly all the daughters of wealthy families, who 
 have dedicated their lives to the honor of God, and 
 the pious education of the rising generation. 
 
 Galway is not a manufacturing place, but there are 
 paper mills, foundry, breweries, distilleries, a tan-yard, 
 and several flour mills in the town and vicinity. The 
 harbor has an extensive line of quays, nnd some few 
 years ago it was proposed to connect it with Lough 
 Corrib liy a canal. Its floating "dock has an area of 
 five acres and .idmits vessels of 14 feet draught. On 
 Muttorc Island, in front of the harbor, there is a light- 
 honse which stands 33 feet above high water. 
 
 The burrough returns two members to tlio House of 
 Commons; the population in 1851 was 1!4,679. Gal, 
 way requires but the fostering care of a paternal native 
 government to restore it to its former prosperity. God 
 send it fioon. 
 
 A TOUR TO CONNAUCHT. 
 
 LETTER V. 
 
 To the Editor of the Dublin Penny Journal: — 
 
 Sir — A journey any where on the outside of a coach, 
 becomes, after a time, rather a tedious nnd undesirable 
 thing. Conversation with your fqllow travellers be- 
 gins to lag — materials for discourse before long wear 
 down to the fag- end — yournnimnl spirits are almost 
 decanted off, and dregs are beginning to come with 
 tho clearer liquid; and this more csjieeiallv, if tho 
 country is uninteresting — nothing to catch or fix at- 
 tention. This I found to be the case on leaving Kin - 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 227 
 
 ncgiul. Suppose, says I, I change my position— try 
 the people at the rear of co;>cl>, as I had aheaily my 
 fellow travellers in front, I remember one ninkirf;- an 
 experiment of this sort in England; travelling through 
 Cumberland, a man at Kendal appeared hom the trav- 
 ellers' room of the inn, to take a rido (as the English 
 have it,^ on our vehicle as far as Ambleside. He was 
 a broad-faced, broad-shouldered, broad-bottomed sort 
 of a man; his bat was broad-brimmed — his coat must 
 have been broad-cloth, cut broad and to the selvage, 
 or else it would not have compassed him — his calves 
 were broad — his galligaskins broader — and cased in 
 square-toed shoes, his broad foot was wide and weighty 
 enough to have crushed a tortoise or an armadillo; but 
 what specially caught my attention, (for stilKed men 
 are very common in. England,) was a most magnificent 
 beard — an Aga of the Janissaries might have envied 
 its exuberant flow — a Russian Papa, for the mere 
 merit of such a beard, would have deserved the Patri- 
 archate of Moscow — flowing adown his ample chest 
 and protubeiant abdomen, it expanded itself in waving 
 richness — unlike the bardic beard, it streamed not like 
 a meteor in the troubled air — no, but as the grey 
 morning mist reposes on the mountain side, so this 
 virile adjunct lay incumbent on his paunch, and what 
 was more remarkable, its pepper and salt hue seemed 
 to have been matched with sedulous selection in the 
 color of his coat, which, mounted with broad and ex- 
 quisitely polished steel buttons, reflected in a thousand 
 positions, the extravagant beard, and gave, as it were 
 so many miniature picture pictures of the hirsute or- 
 nament. This must be a singularity, thinks I to my- 
 self, a man who would venture thus to go forth before 
 the world, must be no common man. This is a brave 
 original, a man so unique in his exterior must have a 
 oneness of mind, and let what will happen, I'll get into 
 conversation with him; so with a world of manceuver- 
 ing, I at length so managed as to get beside him, and 
 immediately commenced an attempt at conversation — 
 of course began with the weather. 'It's a fine day, sir.' 
 'Umph!' 'Morning rather sharp though!' 'Umphi' 
 'Country beautifully diversified.' 'Umph!' 'Varied 
 outline of hills.' 'Umph!' To make my story as 
 short as it should he, he 'umphed' me whenever I ad- 
 dressed a sentence to him, and looked so grave and 
 grumpy, that he actually put my forwardness to si- 
 lence, and for the first time Irish loquacity was brought 
 to fault before an English 'umph; ' and I think I was 
 never so delighted as when this personification of a 
 grey and shaggy goat relieved me from his presence, 
 and the coach of his weight at Ambleside. Therefore, 
 I have ever since been cautious how I trust to outside 
 promise; but there is one manifestation I am never 
 out in — a young man with a cigar in his mouth, and 
 who is constantly polishing up his whiskers — 'fienum 
 habet in cornu,' 'she has a knob in her horns,' is no 
 a bad mark of a cross cow — 'quiddum habet in ore,' is 
 not a bad test uf an empty minded gemman — good 
 for nothing but blowing a puff' — I always move ofl' 
 from such. In my present movement from the front 
 to the rear of the coach, I certainly met with a queer 
 fellow, a tobacco farmer, from the county of We.xford, 
 as clever, intelligent, and active-minded man in his 
 way, as ever I came across. He was on his way to 
 dispose of his crop of tobacco, which he had reared 
 and saved on his farm near Enniscorthy. He and I, 
 ID a few minu'es, got into full converse concerning the 
 growing of this extraordinary plant, which, contrary 
 to nature and common sense, in spite of the preaching 
 of divines, sneers of satirists, and the 'Countarblast' of 
 a mighty king, has increased in use, and is increa.sing, 
 so as to be one of the greatest objects of agriculture 
 and commerce, and the amplest source of fiscal wealth 
 in the world; extending itself every day as a growing 
 custom, though, as worthy King James in his 'Coun- 
 terblast' says, that 'it is loathsome to the eye, hateful 
 to the nose, harmful to the brain, dangerous to the 
 langs, and in the black, stinking fume thereof, nearest 
 lescrabling the horrible stygian smoke- of the pit that 
 is bottomless.' But what is all this to the fellow who 
 now sat beside me, who seemed, with no little pleas- 
 ure, to tell forth to any one that would listen to him, I 
 
 what it was th.it brought him and his neighbors into 
 the tobacco culture, and how much ho had made in a 
 few years by it. It seems that at the commencement 
 of the war of the American revolution, a law was 
 passed by way of punishing the Virginia planters, per- 
 mitting the Irish to grow and cure tol>;icco. This 
 proved a profitless statute for Ireland, and none took 
 advantage of it, or attempted, in our cold and variable 
 climate, to embark in the culture, save and except a 
 mad, speculating uncle of my own, who ventured on a 
 sowing of fifteen acres, and lost three hundred pounds 
 and three thousand cares upon the experiment. But 
 within the last seven years, the culture had crept in 
 amongst the Wexford farmers. A young man from 
 the vicinity of Enniscorthy had been over in Mary- 
 land, and on his return he brought some seed, and 
 some experience, and encouraged his brother to com- 
 mence the culture, which he did on a moderate scale, 
 as few ventured on the husbandry beyond the means 
 of drying and saving afforded by their own houses 
 and families. It turned out one of the best things im- 
 aginable; and from half an acre, £100 sometimes £200 
 have been produced. It was a pity that such a culture 
 was found so materially to interfere with the fiscal reg- 
 ulations of the government as to require its annihila- 
 tion by act of parliament, for it was just the thing cal- 
 culated for Ireland — a culture which required little 
 capital and numerous hands — which called into opera- 
 tion the usefulness of every inmate of an Irish cabin, 
 from the grown man to the women and children — a 
 cultivation which depended for its success, on the 
 cleanliness, the exactitude and attention which were 
 bestowed on it — was likely, in respect to other matters 
 of rural economy, to produce a similar nicety of man- 
 agement, and so, in process of time, counteract the 
 slovenly habits of the people. My companion was an 
 evident proof that the Irish, When they see their way 
 clearly before them, and when they know that their 
 labor and skill will bring returns to themselves, and 
 notto others, are as industrious as any people under 
 the sun. He had made hay while the sun shone, and 
 confessed that holding as he did a farm of 16 acres, he 
 had realised by tobacco, in the space of seven years, 
 £1,200. But he certainly was no idler; for besides 
 growing the plant, he had constituted himself factor 
 amongst his neighbors, and buying up their crops 
 when saved, his business was to proceed through the 
 towns, and more especially those where Irish grown 
 tobacco was not heard of, and there sell it, sometimes, 
 as the case might be, at a discount, because it was 
 Irish — sometimes, with softer dealers, as prime Vir- 
 ginia. This man, it may be expected, was not very 
 measured in his reprehension of the Irish Secretary, 
 for putting an extinguisher on her trade, and he made 
 no secret of his intention of endeavoring to evade the 
 new act, and of his ability to do so; and these feelings, 
 and those intentions had evidently a bad influence on 
 his mind^ — and such will ever be the effect of severe 
 fiscal laws; they will induce people to believe that 
 there is no moral wrong committed to their breach or 
 their evasion; they tend, therefore, to break down the 
 ban-ier of inviolability which should encompass all ex- 
 isting law, and nft'ord a conventional excuse, if not a 
 license, for the smuggler, the poacher, and the illicit 
 distiller, which, as a breaker of the law, be should not 
 have; the man stands relieved, by the equity of politi- 
 cal opinion, from the sentence which the law awards, 
 and leaves him in that position which no wise govern- 
 ment should ever eonlcmplate, namely, the possibility 
 of a man's being deemed fiscally, but not morally a 
 culprit. 
 
 My eoaeh companion did not seem to be made a 
 better man by his new mode of life; there was not a 
 place where the coach stojiped to harness fresh horses, 
 where he did not get down to take in a fresh tumbler 
 of whiskey punch, and yet ho was not drunk; he was a 
 large full-chested man, and his constitution seemed to 
 be surprisingly case-hardened against intoxication — 
 his eye, only, had a watery, maudlin, coddled appear- 
 ance — he boasted that he had already taken fourteen 
 glasses of whiskey made into punch, and that ho sup- 
 posed he would not go to bod bcforo ho made np the I 
 
 twcnty-fifih tumbler — that he always made a bargain 
 best, when he had drank most, and that what made 
 other men lose their wits, only made him cute and 
 chew; he rejoiced, with exceeding satisfaction, in the 
 contemplation of bow many tobacco twisters he had 
 taken in, by showing them, to their sorrow, that the 
 harder he drank, the harder he drove his bargain. I 
 wish I may have had some eft'ect on his natural good 
 sense and sound understaneing, when I attempted to 
 prove that in a very few years such a mode of living 
 must bring on debility, disease and death. But I fear 
 me, there is as little hope of the reformation of a eon- 
 firmed drunkard, as a confirmed tobacco consumer 
 
 both only will feel, when they are dying of debility, 
 that live on stimulants is about as wise as to set fire to 
 a candle at both ends. 
 
 While passing by a well wooded and enclosed de- 
 mesne, with a fine manor house in the centre, some 
 one remarked that it was Gaulstown, now the proper- 
 ty of Lord Kilmaine, but formerly the mansion of the 
 Earls of Belvidere. It is astonishing how previous 
 knowledge causes you, by association, to think well or 
 ill of things and places. Gaulstown, without any 
 grand feature, is as pretty as good land, a good house, 
 and fine trees can make it, yet when considered as the 
 prison of a pretty woman, as the lockup house of a 
 man who was instigated by more than Spanish jealousy, 
 and lived and died under the influence of more than 
 Spanish revenge — even if the sun was shining on it — 
 the thrush was amusing its incubating mate, with all 
 the harmony of conjugal fidelity ; and the ring-dove 
 was cooing its querulous note from every grove, I 
 could not but consider it as a dismal place. Robert, 
 the first Earl of Belvidere, m.arried in 1736, as a sec- 
 ond wife, Mary, the daughter of Lord Viscount Moles- 
 worth; she was wondrous beautiful, and bore him four 
 children, but for some cause that excited to jealousy 
 his determined spirit, he had his countess locked up 
 in Gaulstown house for nearly twenty years, allowing 
 her only the attendance of a confidential servant; and 
 this most admired woman of her day, lingered away 
 the prime of her life, neither the world forgetting, nor 
 by the world forgot, but unknown, and unknowing — 
 jjuarded with a vigilance that knew no intermission, 
 until, by her lord's demise, she was liberated from her 
 thraldom; it is questionable whether the afterlife of this 
 liberated lady evinced that her long incarceration was 
 instrumental to mental improvement, or was conducive 
 to an amended life; at all events, during the earl's life, 
 no one ventured to call his severe and illegal act into 
 question, for he was too useful to the government for 
 them to interfere, and the personal courage of this 
 clever and handsome Bluebeard, was of that exorbitant 
 and reckless character; that no preux chevalier was 
 found hardy enough to attempt the rescue of the love- 
 ly dame from duiaiice vile — in this way they managed 
 matters in Ireland 100 years ago. 
 
 Our next change of horses took place at a village 
 called Beggars'-bridge — a beggarly place, in sooih, as 
 its name imports. The cause of its name is not a 
 little remarkable. In old limes, as was the case in 
 most parts of Ireland, the traveller was obliged to ford 
 over the small river here, and here stood a beggar, 
 who, as the wayfaring man slowly picked his passage 
 over the water, from an adjoining bank, asked aims, 
 and invoked all the saints in heaven to aid and bring 
 to bis journey's end him that lent to God by showing 
 pity on the poor. It was surely an Irishman who said 
 or sung this stave — 
 
 'Oi all the trades a goini^, a be;;giiig is the best.' 
 
 for our beggurman throve surpassingly, so ragged, so 
 wretched, so squalid looked he, that no man could 
 pass by, (and it was a great thoroughfare,) without 
 giving him alms, and it so happened that the beggar- 
 man died and was buried, and a eollin and winding 
 sheet were provided for him at the expense of the 
 neighbors, and his filthy rags.as altogether useless and 
 unfit for any use, were cast out on the wayside, to be 
 trodden under foot, ami so resolve themselves into the 
 element of dirt and dung they had for years appru.xi- 
 mated to — but it so happened that some boys were 
 
228 
 
 IRISn MISCELLANY. 
 
 plariog by tho romisiilo; one of tlicm k^vo an unusual 
 losa to llio lii'^Riir's mtjs, nml out Ml a |)ieco of luonoy, 
 wliorcupon a inoro (lei'Hrato Bcnrcli was niado, and it 
 wns fuunil (hat (ho raggt:(l inside waistcoat wus i|uiltc(l 
 with jjuinons; this moucy tho jonnp; men wlio found it 
 had tho honesty to tiring to a noiglihoring magistruto, 
 wlio diroctod that witli it a bridgo should bo erected on 
 tho stivam on whoso l)anks standii the little vilhigo 
 'indo dcrivatur," Bcggars'-bridgc. 
 
 Ti;nENCE O'TooLB. 
 
 ANNALS OF DUBLIN. 
 
 Tronslutod front tlie Autograph of the Four Musters 
 
 ill tlic Library of the Koyiil Irish Academy. 
 
 [Continued.] 
 
 U8S. A wonderful child was bom in Dublin, 
 who had his teeth at his birth ; he grew to an enor- 
 mous size,, and .^o large a person was not heard of 
 since the time of the heroes. 
 
 U89. The sheep of that part of Meath verging on 
 the sea from Dublin to Drogheda,* ran into the sea 
 in despite of their shepherds, and never returned 
 back. 
 
 The son of the Earl of Orraond arrived in Ire- 
 land, after having spent a long time in England; 
 and he, with O'lirien and his brothers, and Mac 
 AVilUam (de Burgo) of Clanrickard, marched at the 
 head of the army into the county of the Butlers, and 
 compelled the Butlers to give them submissions and 
 hostages — took many of the Irish of Leinster pris- 
 oners, and destroyed Meath. 
 
 The street of the sheep, f in Dublin, was burned 
 by the Lord Chief Justice. A peace was afterwards 
 concluded between them and the Lord Chief Justice; 
 each of them was to hava the office of his own father; 
 and the dcputyship, -viz., the sw ord of the King of 
 England, and all belonging to it, was to be given 
 up to the Archbishop of Dublin, until the king 
 should settle their disputes. The reason for which 
 the Earl of Kildare resigned his otKce, (i. e. that of 
 Lord Chief Justice,) and refused to assist the Eng- 
 lish of Meath, was, because they had not assisted 
 him against the son of the Earl of Ormond. The 
 English of Meath suffered many evils from the Earl 
 of Kildare abandoning them, for they were univer- 
 sally plundered and burned by tho adjeeent Irish 
 chieftains. 
 
 1494. ITie Earl of Kildare was taken prisoner 
 by the English in Dublin, and sent back to Eng- 
 land. 
 
 1510. The Lord Chief Justice of Ireland, viz., 
 Garrett, Earl of Kildare, with the English and Irish 
 nobles of Leinster, marched with an array into Mun- 
 stcr, and took possession of a castle at Carrick-Kit- 
 al, in despite of the Irish of Munster. O'Donnell, 
 lord of Tirconnell, upon obtaining intelligence of 
 this, mustered a small army to assist the Lord Chief 
 Justice, and marched through JIuath and iluuster 
 until he arrived at Carrick-Kital, where he joined 
 him. They then set out in conjunction, and march- 
 iuto Ealla,* where they took the castle of Kanturk, 
 and plundered the country around it. They then 
 marched on into Desmond, and took the castle of 
 Pailis (Pallace,) and another situatad on the bank 
 of the river Mainghe,t and then returned safe into 
 
 • Tlic extent of ancient Meath is dc8cril)ed in the foUow- 
 ing old Irish Itann :— 
 
 From Lough-bo-deirg to Birr, 
 
 From tho Nhanuon eaut to the sea, 
 
 To Culuar Clilunna-IriiinI, 
 
 And to Cumar Cluanu uirde. 
 Ancient Meath was bouudcd on the east bythcpca; on 
 tlic west by that part ot the .Shannon from Lou«l]-bo-Uu to 
 the river of Birr; on the south by a part of tho river Lif- 
 I'ey and aline passing through Cloiiard, Geashill, Birr, un- 
 til it met the Shannon ; on the north by Brcifny and 
 Oriel. 
 
 t Now comiptly. Ship Btrcctj but in Speed's Map of 
 Dublin, published in 1610, It is called Sheepe street. 
 
 * F.alla, a territory in the county of Cork, through which 
 a river of the same name flows, now Allow, or Alio. 
 
 t SLiinglie, now the river Mang, in the county of Kerry ; 
 not the Maine-water, in the county of Antrim, as laid down 
 on Ualidoy's Map of Auoicnt Ireland, published in 1811. 
 
 tho county of Limerick. They then collected n 
 fresh army, and being joined by the tieraldiucs of 
 Munster, under the command of James, the son of 
 the Earl of Desmond, and by all iithirs of English 
 extraction in Munster, as also by Jl'l.'nrthy lleagh, 
 (Donall, the son of Dermott,) anil by Cormac oge, 
 the son of Teigo, and by all the English and Irish 
 of Meath and Leinster, they proceeded to Limerick. 
 
 Torlogh, the son of Teige O'Brien, lord of Tho- 
 mond, assembled his forces, and was joined by 
 Macnamnra, Siol-Acdha, and Clanrickard, who mus- 
 tered a mimerous army to oppose the Lord Cliicf 
 Justice and his joint forces. 
 
 The Lord Chief Justice marched through Bbnlnch 
 na Fadbaige, and through Bealach na n Gamhna, 
 until he arrived at Droichcd Croinn, (i. e. the bridge 
 ofl'ortcross) which was constructed by O'Brien 
 across the Shannon, and he destroyed the bridge, 
 and pitched his camp for a night in that country. 
 O'Brian pitched his own camp so near them, that 
 they could hear each others voices and conversation 
 during the night. Next morning, the Lord Chief 
 Justice drew up his forces in battle array, placuig 
 the Irish and English of Munster in the van, and 
 the English of Meath and Dublin in the rear, where 
 O'Donnell also placed his small body of troops. 
 O'Brien's army made a vigorous charge upon the 
 English, and killed the Baron of Kent, and Barnival 
 Kircustoun, and many others of their nobility too 
 numerous to be here named. The English ilcd, and 
 passed through Moin na m-brathar (the bog of the 
 friars,) Avhich was the shortest way thence to Lim- 
 erick. O'Brien returns in triumph, carrying home 
 immense spoils. There was not in either army on 
 that day, a hero of English or Irish extraction, who 
 showed more valor and military sljill than O'Don- 
 nell, in conducting the rear of the English army, 
 on their retreat, in safety from their enemies. J 
 
 1525. The Chief Justice, the Earl of Kildai-c, 
 (Garrett oge,) called a councU of the men of Ireland, 
 in Dublin, at which all the earls, barons, knights, 
 and other nobles of English and Irish extraction at- 
 tended. Thither repaired O'Xeill (Con Bacach) and 
 O'Donnell (Hugh, the son of Hugh Roe,) to settle 
 their disputes and confirm their league of peace in 
 presence of the Lord Chief Justice. Here they stated 
 and argued on all the treaties and covenants that 
 were ever between them, before their English and 
 Irish friends, but neither the Justice nor the Coun- 
 cil could settle their disputes, and they returned 
 home determined enemies, and renewed tho war. 
 
 O'Donnell made two incursions into Tirone this 
 year, and devastated the country in all directions 
 by fire and sword, without receiving opposition 
 from O'NciU. 
 
 1535. The Earl of Kildare, Lord Chief Justice of 
 Ireland, (Garrett, son of Garrett, son of Thomas, ) 
 the most illustrious of the English and Irish in In- 
 land, for his fame and renown had spread not only 
 throughout all Ireland, but also throughout foreiu'n 
 countries, died in imprisonment in London. Aftir 
 his death, his. son Thomas began to revenge his 
 wrongs upon the English, and upon all those who 
 had conspired to have him expelled from Ireland, 
 lie disdauifuUy sent away the King of England's 
 sword — slew the Archbishop of Dublin, (who was 
 his father's enemy,) and many others along with 
 him — took Dublin from Newgate outwards,* and 
 received hostages from the rest of the town from awe 
 of him ; he plundered and laid waste all Fingall, 
 from Sliabh lioe to Drogheda, and made all Meath 
 tremble at his name, ■\\^len the King of England 
 obtained intelligence of this, he sent relief to the 
 English, viz., Thomas SkefELngton, as Lord Chief 
 
 t Thronghout these Annale much praise is lavished upon 
 O'Donnell, the reason iainnnifest; because the comjillere of 
 these Annals were natives of Tyrconnell, and living in the 
 monastery of Donegall, which was founded In 1471 by Ued 
 Uugh O'Donnell. 
 
 • I. K. The suburbs Irom (Jom market. 
 
 Justice of Ireland, attended by I>eonard Grey and * 
 large fleet, who immediately began to destroy all tho 
 possessions of the I'^arl of Kildare. They took Magh 
 Nuadliat,t his residence, and banished him from his, -. 
 country. Thcmias's own five brothers, James, Oli- 
 ver, John, M'alter, and Kiehard, rose up against 
 him to assist the English, for each of them expected 
 the earldom if Thomas could be conquered. Wlicn 
 the English found it impossible to make a prisoner 
 of Thomas, after depriving him of his towns and 
 manors, and after driving him under the protection 
 of the Irish chieftiains of the south of Irelunti, vii. 
 of the O'Briens and O'Conor Faly, who were their 
 most determined and powerful enemies, they ad- 
 vised with each other, and came to the conclusion 
 that the best way to secure him would be to offer 
 him peace and then take him by treachery. They 
 accordingly sent Lord Leonard for him, who prom- 
 ised him pardon and peace from the king, so that 
 he induced Thomas to go with him to England. 
 On their arrival Thomas was taken, and confined in 
 the King's Tower. Lord Leonard returned to Ire- 
 land, and succeeded "William Skeffington, then late- 
 ly deceased, in the office of Lord Chief Justice of 
 Ireland, and took the sons of the Earl of Kildare, 
 viz., James, Oliver, John, AValter, and Kiehard, 
 under his protection, and he remained some time 
 their friend ; but at last he took them prisoners, and 
 sent them to the King of England, who confined 
 them in the Tower along with Thomas, the heir to 
 the carldon. J. O'D. 
 
 [To be Continued.] 
 
 t Magh Nuadhat, now Anglicized Maynootb, where Gar- 
 rett, Karl of Kildare founded a college in the beginning of 
 
 the loth century. 
 
 CORONATION CHAIR OFTHE O'NEILS OFCAS- 
 TLEREACH. 
 
 The curious piece of antiquity represented in tho 
 prefixed engraving, was for a long period the chair 
 on which the O'Neils, of Castlereagh, were in-iuger- 
 atcd, and originally stood on the hill of that name 
 within two miles of Belfast. After the ruin of Con 
 O'Xeil, the last chief of Castlereagh, and the down- 
 fall of the family, in the reign of James the First, 
 the chair was thrown down and neglected, till about 
 the year IGoO., when Stewart Banks, Esq., Sover- 
 eign of Belfast, caused it to be removed to that 
 town, and had it built into the wall of the Butter 
 Market, where it was used as a seat until the taking 
 down of the Market place a few years ago. It was 
 then mixed with the other stones and rubbish, and 
 was about to be broken, when Thomas Fitzniorris 
 took possession of it, and removed it to a little gar- 
 
imsn MISCELLANY. 
 
 229 
 
 lion in-front of his house' in Lancaster street, Bcl- 
 tast, where it remained till the present year, when 
 it. was purchased from him for a young gentle- 
 man of cultivated mind and elegant tastes, K. C. 
 Walker, Esq., ofGrauby How, Dublin, and llath- 
 carrick, in the County of Sligo, who has had it re- 
 moved to the latter place, where it will be pre- 
 served with the care due to so interceting a monu- 
 ment. 
 
 This Chair, which is very rudely constructed, is 
 made of common whin stone — the seat is lowerthan 
 that of an ordinary chair, and tlic beck liighcr and 
 nanower. 
 
 Respecting its antiquity, we have nothing to offer 
 beyond conjucturc. The branch of the O'Neils to 
 whom it appertained, shot off from the parent stem 
 in the 10th century, .and is still represented by the 
 prerentEarl O'Neil; but the inaugural chair may 
 have belonged to the ancient chiefs of the district 
 which they subsequently ruled. Such chairs, or 
 sometimes large stones, on which the impression of 
 two feet were sculptured, were placed in some ele- 
 vated spot in every lordship or territory ; and an 
 allusion to them, as well as to the mode of electing 
 the chiefs and tanists, occurs in the poet Spencer's 
 curioxis ' View of the state of Ireland.' 
 
 Eudox. What is this which you call tardst and 
 tanistry ? these be names and terms never heard of 
 nor known to us. 
 
 Iren. It is a curtome amongst all the Irish, that, 
 presently after the death of one of their chief lords 
 or captains, they doe presently assemble themselves 
 to a place generally knowne unto them, to choose 
 another in his stead, where they do nominate and 
 elect, for the most part, not the eldest sonne, nor 
 any of the children of the lord deceased, but the 
 next to him in blood, that it is the eldest and wor- 
 thiest, as commonly the next brother unto him, if 
 he have any, or the next cousin, or so forth, as any 
 is elder in that kindred ; and next to him do they 
 choose the nezt of the blood to be tanist, who shall 
 next succeed him in the said captaincy, if he live 
 thereunto. 
 
 Eudox. Do they not use any ceremony in this 
 election : for all barbarous nations are commonly 
 great observers of ceremonies and superstitc rights ? 
 
 Iren. They use to place him that shall be their 
 captaine upon a stone, always reserved to that piu-- 
 pose, and placed commonly upon a hUl ; in some ol 
 which I have seen formed and engraven a foot, which 
 they say was the measure of their first captain's foot ; 
 whereon bee standing, receives an oath to preserve 
 all the ancient former customs of the country in- 
 violable, and to deliver up the succession peaceably 
 to his tanist: and then hath a wand delivered 
 unto him by some whose proper office that is ; af- 
 ter which, descending from the stone, he turneth 
 himself round, thrice forwards and thrice back- 
 wards. 
 
 Eudox. But how is the tanist chosen ? 
 
 Iren. They say he settcth but one foot upon the 
 stone, and receiveth the like oath that the captaine 
 did. 
 
 There was, and probably still is, another stone 
 chair on which the O'Neil's of Tyrone, the chief 
 branch of the family, were inaugurated. It is mark- 
 ed in some of our old maps under the name of ' The 
 stone where they make the O'Neils.' And there 
 are similar chairs to be found in other districts. 
 
 This curious mode of inauguaation is of very re- 
 mote antBluity in Ireland, and said to have been in- 
 troduced even before the arrival of the Milesians by 
 the Tuatha de Danan colony. Our readers are, no 
 donbt, familiar with the history of the stone corona- 
 tion chau-, now in Westminster Abbey, called ' The 
 Fatal Stone,' which that ancient people are said to 
 have brought with them into Ireland, and to which 
 such superstitious veneration was paid, not only 
 here but in Scotland. It was supposed that in what- 
 ever country this stone was, preserved, a prince of 
 
 the Scythian race should govern, and, in consequence 
 of this belief, was sent to Scotland for the corona- 
 tion of Fergus the first King of the Scots, and who 
 was of the blood royal of Ireland. Here it remain- 
 ed, and was xised by the subsequent monarchs, till 
 in the year 1296 it was conyeyed to London by Ed- 
 ward the First, where it has been ever since appro- 
 priated to the same purpose. 
 
 We shall have frequent opportunities in our fu- 
 ture numbers of returning to the history of the il- 
 lustrious family of the O'Neils, and in the mean- 
 time present our readers with an engraving of their 
 arms — the bloody hand — from an impression from 
 the silver signet ring of the cele- 
 brated Turlogh Lynnoch. It was 
 found a few years ago near Charle- 
 mont, in the county of Armagh, 
 and is at present in the possession 
 of a gentleman of that county. 
 P. 
 
 JCHN MAC DONNELL CLARACH. 
 
 Among the native Irish poets of the last century, 
 perhaps the most justly celebrated was John Mac 
 Donnell. He was bom in the year 1691, in O'Keef- 
 fe's Country, near Charleville, in the County of 
 Cork, and was known by the name of ' Claragh,' 
 from the residence of his family, which was situated 
 at the foot of a mountain of that name, between 
 Charleville and Mallow. He died in 1754, and 
 was interred in the old church-yard of Ballyslough, 
 near Charleville. Mac Donnell was a man of con- 
 siderable classical learning, and had made some pro- 
 gress in a translation of Homer into Irish, which 
 was considered of great merit ; but his celebrity 
 rested chiefly on his minor works, which were strong- 
 ly imbued with the political feelings of his Catholic 
 countrymen, who were suffering at that period un- 
 der the rigors of the penal code. Of these a con- 
 siderable number have been preserved, and two or 
 three of them have been translated and published in 
 Mr. Hardiman's ' Irish Minstrelsy.' We have en- 
 deavored to find among those remains, one untinged 
 with this prevailing characteristic, to lay before our 
 readers in an.English dress, but without success. 
 The following poem, however, though a Jacobite 
 relic, has nothing in it now applicable to existing 
 circumstances, or calculated to excite political feel- 
 ing ; and its poetic beauty is such, we think, as 
 will give pleasure to all our readers, and in addition 
 to its illustrating the Fairy topography of Ireland, 
 entitles it to a place in our little repository of the 
 literature, history, and antiquities of our Country. 
 
 THE DKEAM OP MAO DONKELL CtAKAQn. 
 
 (A Jacobite Eelic.) 
 'Twas night, and buried in deep sleep I lay, 
 Strauge visioue rose before mo, nnd my (liouglita 
 Played wildly tlirotigU the chambers of ray braiu, 
 Wheu io! who sits beside my couch and smiles 
 With soul subduing sweetoess?— 'I'is the Uausbce! 
 I saw her taper waist— her ravcu tresses 
 Waving in wanton ringlets to her feet, 
 Her fiice, fair as the swan's unsullied plumage. 
 I viewed her— Oh' her mien of angel meekness, 
 Her soul-enchenting eyes, her delicate lips, 
 Ucr white round breast, lier soft and dazzling skin, 
 Her sylph-like form, her pale transpareut lingers, 
 Her ivory teeth, bcrmild and marble brow, 
 Proclaimed her immortality.— The imago, 
 Though dream-born, fascinates my fancy still. 
 Thrilling wiih deepest awo I spoke, and asked 
 From what bright dwolliug had the spirit come? 
 She nnsworod not, but swift as thought evanished, 
 And left me to my dark nnd troubled solitude. 
 Mcthought I called her, but she hooded not 
 My sighs, my cries, mine anguish- and molliought 
 1 left my homo to.seok her. Northwards (irst 
 My stops I turned, and came to Ciruagacc's palace, 
 Far distant from my dwelling— forth away 
 I speeded on to Oroghnirs fairy liall ; 
 Theucc to the palace of Senaid, the grand 
 And gorgeous fairy mansion of Ardroc, 
 On whoso broad summit mighty hosts assemble; 
 I visited that glorious dome that stands 
 Uy the dark rolling waters of the Doyuc, 
 Where j'Eiigus Ogo mngiiiflccutly dwells. 
 
 In ouch, in all I cnterod, eouglit, enquired, 
 
 Dut found hor not. In each, in all they said— 
 
 'She moves before thoo wherosoc'er thou gocst.' 
 
 Kuough— I renched Mac Lir's colossal pride, 
 
 Departed thence to Croevoroe, and onward 
 
 To Tomor, and the woud'rous fairy structure 
 
 That stands in power on Knookflrin'sairy peak. 
 
 To Aoibhirspalace walls at length I oame. 
 
 Which rise below the rock's gigantic brow- 
 
 And here mine eyes were feasted with the sight 
 
 Of loveliest damsels dancing to the tones 
 
 Of soft voluptuous music; and I saw 
 
 liy Aoibhil, Thomond's chieftains, mighty spirits 
 
 Beautiful, splendid, cased in armed mail, 
 
 Whose sports wore battle teats, and tilts and tournamentu. 
 
 And here, too, seated modestly and mildly, 
 
 Her long dark tresses loosely flowing round her, 
 
 I saw the hoavenlike being whose bright eyes 
 
 Had made mo thus a wanderer. Glancing round 
 
 She saw and recognised me. And as she spnkc : 
 
 Mortal,' she said, 'I pity thy lone wanderings; 
 
 Approach and hear my melancholy tale : 
 
 The guardian spirit of this land am I. 
 
 I weep to see my people fallen — to see 
 
 My priests and warlike heroes banished hence 
 
 To alien shore, where, languisliing and pining. 
 
 They groan beneath the iron yoke of slavery! 
 
 And ah ! my ohfld,* my son, my lineal heir. 
 
 He too, is far away from me — an exile! 
 
 I mourn for him, for them, for all departed. 
 
 Pity!— Oh, heaven! look down upon me!' Hero 
 
 The cloud that sleep had east around my senses 
 
 Departed, and along with it departed 
 
 The towering domes, the palace halls, and all 
 
 The chiefs and dames and glittering decorations; 
 
 But o'er my spell bound soul there hung a gloom. 
 
 And there even now it hangs in spite of i 
 
 * The Pretender. 
 
 ABBOT OF BANGOR'S SEAL. 
 
 The ancient brazen Seal, of which an-impression 
 is represented in the annexed engraving, was found 
 in the ruins of Saul Abbey, in the County of Down, 
 and is now in the possession of Mr. James Under- 
 wood of Sandymount, who has au interesting col- 
 lection of Irish antiquities. 
 
 It represents the statue of an Abbot — St. Com- 
 gall — standing in a niche of pointed or gothic archi- 
 tecture , his left hand holding the crozier or pastor- 
 al staff, and his right raised in the act of giving the 
 benediction. On a shield or tablet below, are the 
 arms of the Abbot to whom the seal belonged ; and 
 outside the device, the follo^^■ing abbreviated in- 
 scription, in the monkish letter of the 14th century : 
 
 'I. E. pris Snliniits linriltt aiiis h fm^:.' 
 
 Sigillum Rev. Patris Johanis Kenedy, Abbatis do 
 Bangor. — The Seal of the Kcv. Father John Kenedy. 
 Abbot of Bangor. 
 
 As our histories have not preserved the n.ames of 
 the Abbots of this great Monastery during the 11th 
 and 15th centuries; we cannot accurately ascertain 
 at what period this Abbot flourished, but the style 
 of architecture, and the letters on the seal unques- 
 tionably belong to those ages ; and this seal, like 
 that of a Dean of Clanmacnoisc, given in a former 
 number, preserves a fact to our local histories which 
 would otherwise have been lost. 
 
 The Abbey of Bangor was founded by St. Comgall 
 in the 6th century, and was one of the most cele- 
 brated institutions of its Idnd in Ireland. 
 
230 
 
 IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 NATIONAL BIOCRAPHY. 
 
 Antuosy Malose. 
 On the -^ih of December, in the yenr 1700, w«s 
 boni AnilionyMulonc, a man who >YOuld hiivc been 
 on oninniciit of his profession nnd his country, even 
 though he hnd not lived at n period of her liistory 
 when distinguished talents, if united witli. integrity 
 of conduct, were regarded by those in power with 
 jealousy and fear. 
 
 If most of the celebrated men of Irelniid have 
 been but the naturnlixed descendants of her con- 
 querors, she may »t least claim an undivided title to 
 the family of Malone. It is a branch of that of 
 O'Conor; and it is o remarkable fact, in a country 
 •nhere continued disturbances hoYC led to such fre- 
 quent and cxtthsive forfeitures of inheritances, that 
 the lands originally granted by the king of that 
 name to the founder of this family, about the close 
 of the nth century, have continued to this day in 
 the possession of his descendants. More than one 
 distinguished man of this family lived during the 
 last century, amongst whom the most eminent were 
 lliehard Malone, who died in 1741-5 ; and his son 
 Anthony, the subject of the present notice — the on- 
 ly lawyer of the time who rivalled his father in legal 
 attainments, and was thought bv many to have sur- 
 passed him. lie was admitted a gentleman com- 
 moner of C'hrist Church, Oxford, in the year 1720; 
 and in 17'2() was called to the Irish 15ar, where he 
 continued to practice for 50 years, the brightest or- 
 nament of his profession. In 1727, he was elected 
 representative for the county Weastmcath, which 
 he continuci to represent to the time of his death, 
 except during the period which elapsed from the 
 death of Geo. II. in 17G0, to the election in 17G8. 
 In 1740, he was appointed his Majesty's Prime Ser- 
 geant at Law, at that time the liighest office in his 
 profession, and which he lost in January 1754, be- 
 cause he warmly supported, in the House of Com- 
 mons, their right to dispose, without the previous 
 consent of the crown, of the unappropriated surplus 
 of revenue raised by act of Parliament — a right which 
 it is surprising that it should ever have been ques- 
 tioned, but which would create much more aston- 
 ishment should there ever again be occasion for its 
 e.xereise. Under the Duke of Bedford's govcnimcnt, 
 in 1757, he was appointed Chancellor of the Ex- 
 chequer in Ireland, from which office he was re- 
 moved in 17G0, after having filled it with consum- 
 mate ability for two years, during which time he 
 regularly attended the court, and decided all equity 
 cases with such complete satisfaction to all parties 
 that there never was an appeal from his decision. 
 llis removal from office on this, as on the former 
 occasion, was the consequence of his asserting the 
 rights of the House of Commons against the en- 
 croachments of prerogative, exercised at this time 
 in the most arbitrary manner, through the medium 
 of a corrupt privy council. lie maintained the privi- 
 lege of the Uouse to originate the supplies ; and 
 though this act of resistance, as it was called, did 
 not fall within the exercise of his judicial functions, 
 yet as it was an act of integrity, it was thought by 
 the court os a disqualification in him for the oflice 
 of a judge ; and, ' as he was raised to that ollice 
 for his capacity, he was dispossessed of it for his 
 virtue.' After this, he resumed his barrister's gown, 
 and was soon afterwards honored with a seat in the 
 Pri^T' Council, and a patent of i>recedcncc at the bar 
 before any of the law ollicers of the Crown — a ])re- 
 ccdency, as was justly obscricd in the same publi- 
 cation, which nature had given him before, and 
 which the king could not take from him. He con- 
 tinued in possession of full business to the week be- 
 fore his death, which took place on the Sth of May, 
 1776, after an illness of eight days. 
 
 The following character of this distinguished man 
 is abridged from a sketch contained in a work of 
 one of his contemporaries, and we regret that the 
 
 limits of our periodical do not permit U8 to tran- 
 scribe it entire. 
 
 ' The singxilar modesty, disinterestedness, and in- 
 tegrity of this accomplished orator, added such a 
 grace and lustre to his consummate abilities, that it 
 was impossible not to love and respect, as well as 
 admire him. 
 
 'The profession in which he was engaged, and of 
 which he had the profoundest knowledge, was pe- 
 culiarly calculated to display the soundness of his 
 judgment and the fertility of his invention. The 
 clearness and strength of his conceptions, and the 
 simple and perspicuous method in which he arrang- 
 ed the most complicated subjects, made conviction 
 appear the natural and necessary result of his elo- 
 quence, insomuch that, when he spoke on the side 
 of truth and justice, and addressed an able nnd up- 
 right judge, he usually swayed and decided his 
 opinion by a luminous statement of the question in 
 dispute which he afterwards enforced by accumu- 
 lated arguments, urged with such weight, and placed 
 in such various lights, that they seldom failed to 
 force conviction on the slowest apprehensions and 
 most unwilling minds. If he could be said to have 
 any defect as an advocate, it resulted from that in- 
 tegrity of understanding which formed the basis of 
 his character as a lawyer and a judge. He was 
 never perplexed with subtleties himself, and was lui- 
 willing, we had almost said, unable to pciplex and 
 mislead others. His irresistible power of persuasion 
 seemed, therefore, in some measure to desert him, 
 when his duty to his client called on hmi to enforce 
 doctrines which the rectitude of his judgment had 
 already condemned. Yet to this circumstance it was 
 perhaps owing that he kept his discernment untaint- 
 ed by the indiscriminate defence of right and wrong, 
 and his faculties unimpaired to the last, and did never 
 meet with the fate of many of the same profession, 
 who begin with dexterity in confounding others, 
 and end in confusing themselves. 
 
 ' His style was a perfect model for the eloquence 
 of the bar ; always adequate, and never superior to 
 his subject. He seemed studiously to avoid, as 
 hurtful to his purpose, all ' ardcntia verba,' all or- 
 naments of language, and all flowers of rhetoric ; 
 so the force of his speech resulted rather from the 
 general weight, energy, and excellence of the whole 
 than from the splendor of particular parts. All was 
 clear and flowing, simple, yet impressive ; and such 
 was the comprehension of his mind and the accu- 
 racy of his expression, so perspicuous his arrange- 
 ments, and so numerous his argument, that when 
 he teased to speak, the subject appeared utterly ex- 
 hausted ; there was nothing omitted, nothing su- 
 perfluous, and to add to liis speech, or to confute it 
 seemed equally impossible. 
 
 ' Even the less splendid qualities and petty habits 
 of this extraordinary man may not be unworthy of 
 being recorded. His memory was so tenacious, 
 that there was scarcely a cause in which he had been 
 engaged during half a century of which he could 
 not give a satisfactory account whenever a reference 
 was made to it at the bar. He never committed to 
 paper a single sentence that he spoke either at the 
 bar or in Parliament, nor was it his custom to set 
 down the heads of arguments ; he, however, often 
 lay awake all night for several hours, revolving 
 the causes to which he was to speak on the follow- 
 ing day. 
 
 ' His gentle and placid temper gave an habitual 
 complacency to his countenance. He seemed in- 
 capable of sajing or doing anything without a cer- 
 tain grace and felicity accompanying his words and 
 actions. On no occasion, in private life, was he 
 known to be disturbed by .slight inconveniences, 
 nor did he in public ever appear in the smallest de- 
 gree ruffled, unless he was provoked by obstinate 
 and petulant folly, which sometimes extorted from 
 him a reprimand, delivered with warmth, but never 
 with asperity. 
 
 ' In the first stage of his political career, hc° spoke 
 in Parliament with more ardor and vehemence than 
 accompanied his speeches during the latter years. 
 Having found, by observation nnd experience, that 
 in all contests with England, Ireland was finally 
 the sufferer, he thought it most prudent to make 
 the best compromise that could be made with our 
 more powerful neighbors ; and on all great occasions 
 to conciliate rather than exasperate. prom the 
 time of the accession of George the Third, he gen- 
 erally, though unplaced and unpensioncd, support- 
 ed the measures of Government ; yet such was the 
 delicacy of his feelings, that no man of his weight 
 and abilities ever obtained so few favors, either for 
 himself or others, from those who had the adminis- 
 tration of affairs.' 
 
 Though our task is to record the characters of 
 those whom death has placed beyond the reach of 
 flattery, and not to eulogise the living generation, 
 we cannot avoid remarking the strong resemblance 
 which the above sketch bears to a distinguished 
 member of the same profession in our own times. 
 The i)eeuliar modesty of that individual would feel 
 hurt by the coupling of his name with so high a 
 panegyric, but the members of his profession will 
 find no difficulty in identifying him with the best 
 features of the picture ; and in placing it before the ■ 
 public, we feel no fear of a contention for the palm 
 when wo inscribe upon it (asking pardon of our 
 readers for difference of gender) 
 
 'TUB BE.H'TIFVL PLEADEK.' 
 
 A JUDGE PUZZLED^ 
 
 Some thirty or forty years' ago, it happened that at 
 an assises held in Armagh, the gentlemen of the long 
 robe, not having much to do, agreed to invent a case 
 for the purpose of amusing themselves, and puzzling 
 
 judge U , who was not considered one of the most 
 
 profound lawyers of his day. An eminent barrister 
 stated the case, by which it appeared that the plaiiitifT 
 and defendant (who were brothers) were jointly pos- 
 sessed of a sheep; but not being able to agree about 
 shearing it, the plaintiff shore one half, ( a hind iind 
 fore quarter,) and then turned it out as usual to graze 
 on the common; but unfortunately, that very night it 
 was caught in a hedge by the wool on the unshorn 
 side, and then and there worried by the dogs, in conse- 
 quence thereof it died, on which the plaintiff brought 
 an action of trespass against the defendant, by whose 
 neglect in not shearing his side, the animal's death 
 was occasioned. 
 
 'My lord,' exelnimed the plaintiff's counsel, 'this is 
 an action of tresspass, as my young friend lias told you 
 who opened the pleadings. The defendant has pleaded 
 the general issue, not guilty, but I think your lordship 
 and the jury will say, when you have heard the fads, 
 that both in law and justice he has been guilty of a 
 gross and unfraternal trespass. My lord, my client 
 was a joint tenant with the defendant. The joint 
 property was a sheep of nncommon fatness — u sheep 
 of no ordinary promise; and in order to improve the 
 animal's health and promote its comfort, my client pro- 
 posed that it should be shorn. His unkind brother, 
 the defendant, instead of assenting to and assisting the 
 operation, cruelly refused. Now, my lord, he had a 
 clear right, in order to benefit the joint property, to see 
 to it that the shears were applied. My client, solely 
 with a view to improve the joint estate, sliearcd one 
 side, and it was incumbent on the defendant to com- 
 plete the process. He neglected to do so — he failed in 
 completing the denudation of I'/.e slicep — and his ne- 
 glect and failure caused the total loss and destruction 
 of the joint property. Now, your lordship knows — 
 what young tyro does not know? — that it is a well-as- 
 certained principle of law that where a joint tenant is 
 the cause of the destruction of the joint estate, he is 
 liable in trespass. As to my client's right to shear 
 one half, I am ample authorities in those blue-covered 
 vehicles of modern judicial wisdom with which Eng- 
 lish booksellers and bookmakers inundate the profes- 
 sion. But as I know that your lordship is more deep- 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 231 
 
 Iv rciiil ia tlio more nnciiiit and sounder Icainingof 
 the oiiilier reporters, I will refer to tlio famous Bul- 
 lock ease reported in 47 Co. 5S4. There a l)ullock 
 vvhioh had an inveterate habit of horrtiiig — cnilan<;er- 
 in^ the lives of his majesty's sulijects, was the |iroper- 
 ty of two joint tenants. One cut ofl" tlie rij;ht liand 
 horn, and called on the other to cut otT the left, whicli 
 the latter refused. The bidlock still continued to do 
 mischief with the remaining horn, and'was ^shot by 
 some person he Imd injured. Trespass was brought 
 by the jointtenantwho had cut oil' the horn against 
 him who would not cut oH; the other; and it was held, 
 after much time taken by the court to consider, that it 
 was well brought, because the plaintill' had a right to 
 cut oft" a horn to induce the defendant to cut off the 
 other, and thereby increase the value of the property, 
 as no one doubteth that a peaceable bullock is better 
 than a homing bullock; and the defendant, by not cut- 
 ting oft" the remaining horn, was the cause of the ani-. 
 mat's being shot and the joint property destroyed. 
 Your lordship sees this is quite conclusive, for I pro- 
 test I cannot perceive any difference between the horns 
 in the one case and the fleece in the other. And then 
 taking the law to be with me, I ask the other side if 
 there was any thing objectionable in the eonduct'of my 
 client! Did he not, with scrupulous honesty, shear 
 his o^vn side, and nothing but, his side? Did he not, 
 with all the kindness which one brother should exer- 
 cise towards another, declare that he wanted nothing 
 but his due! There were no hostile messages. There 
 were no threats of defiance. There were do expiess- 
 ions of scorn and contempt. No, my lord. He just 
 stripped the animal of that portion of its superfluous 
 clothing which in law and equity belonged to him, 
 and then turned it out, that with bleating cries and im- 
 ploring looks it might solicit its other proprietor to 
 take the other portion, and thus restore the dumb brute 
 to its centre of gravity. But no attention was paid'to 
 it by the unfeeling man. Night drew on. Still the 
 animal was to be seen wandering up and down, shaggy 
 en the one side, and shorn on the other. Darkness 
 enveloped it. The cold blast swept across the plain. 
 It drew near a thicket for shelter and protection, but 
 whieh only stretched its arms, like many a faithless 
 friend, to ensnare and deceive. It was caught by the 
 nnshorn side. Those savage dogs which roam about 
 the fields found it there entangled, and with the cow- 
 ardice of nocturnal ruffians destroyed it. I am sure I 
 need not ssy another word to convince your lordship 
 that my client is entitled to a verdict in his favor.' 
 
 'My lord,' said the counsel for the defendant, in 
 
 order to save the valuable time of the court, we will 
 
 admit the case as stated, without obliging the plaintiff 
 
 '0 call witnesses. This action has been entirely mis- 
 
 inceived. My client is, as your lordship sees, but a 
 
 '•nt tenant with the plaintiff; they arc seized 'per ym 
 
 'er tout. There is, as your lordslilp knows, a unity 
 
 °''ssession, and, as the great Littleton very intelligi- 
 
 ■ ys, the section, no doubt your lordship is well ae- 
 
 1'^^'d with, 'each is seized by every parcel and by 
 
 '"* ^le.' Now if that be so, (and who can doubt 
 
 ' ''irity,) until there was a regular legal partition 
 
 " i\, it was an act altogether tortuous in the 
 
 plaintu^ shear the sheep at all. And as to my 
 
 friend s ^y^^^^ fj,(, necessity of shearing for the 
 
 comfort ^ _.j^g^^^^ J jIjJi^,. j ggj, ,jy jii^, gjj^jig jjp^^ 
 
 your or .^ ^^^^^ ^^^^^ ^.^^ think it was more for the 
 
 eomtor plaintiff's own feet in having stockings 
 
 made for tf^^^^ ^^^^ ^^^ ^^^^ relief of the poor ani- 
 
 madc 
 mal, or the 
 
 averaent of its condition. What right 
 had he to tal^ j^^j. ^^ ^j^^ ^^^^^ .^ ^^,|_.^,,^ ^^ ^j.^^^ 
 
 wa-s joi ) ed, and then require him to shear 
 the p ^ j^c^ unshorn, when every spinning- 
 
 wheel in his po / ' " 
 
 on had employment tor a month. 
 
 ^ ' ' 1 my learned friend have auilior- 
 
 ity to support m,. ^^ ^^^ ^^^^ ^^^^ ^^ 
 
 cited in Shephc '^ 
 
 cases your 
 
 , , , mchstono, which m all sheep 
 lord.sh. , „ ... 
 
 \V3 must be of good authority. 
 
 A and B were joi. ^^ ^ ^^^^^ ^,_^ ^^^ 
 
 A caught part of ^^^ j.^^^^ ^^.^^^^ ^^^ ^ _.^ 
 tally tore >t from tl • ^ ^ 
 t was held by the CO f-P 
 
 could not lie, because the parties were joint tenants; 
 and although there was a natural partition, there was 
 no legal pariition of the hoof as long as the joint ten- 
 ancy continued. My lord, I may say with that eru- 
 dite and poetic author who has so huidably endeav- 
 ored to relieve the severity of our noble science by 
 calling the muse to hi.s aid, and dressing in the garb of 
 verse the abstrusities of law — an author whom I take 
 this public opportunity of recommending to the pro- 
 fession, 
 
 The cases in the book arc plenty, 
 I could bep; leave to quote you twenty. 
 Some special verdicts aud demurrers, 
 FromDurnford, Bosanquct an d Burrows. 
 Sonic lute decisions of the Courts 
 In point, my Lord, from Term reports, 
 All books for solid information, 
 Held in the highest estimation. 
 But if this action can be maintained, and under your 
 lordship's direction the jury iind against my client, 
 what damages can be assessed? who really has been 
 damnified'! Tho plaintiff cut away the wool, over 
 which he had no distinct or ascertained right, and" he 
 made money of that wool; tho remainder, by the wor- 
 rying of the dogs and the tearing of the bushes has 
 been rendered useless; and the carcase, not being prop- 
 erly blooded, was of service to neither, and the benefit, 
 if any, has flowed to the plaintiff. And as to the point 
 that we have been the cause of the destruction, this is 
 an absurd assertion, and if not exceedingly vicious, 
 would be exceedingly ludicrous. Who, I ask you, my 
 lord, was indeed the cause of the destruction of the 
 sheep'! True, the sheep is dead, but what caused its 
 death'? It lived when it was Avholly unshorn, but it 
 died when deprived of a portion of its wool. Well, 
 and docs not the guilt of its death fall on the head of 
 the cruel greedy man, who, impatient for the paltry 
 proceeds of a few pounds of wool, so disfigured the 
 modest and timid beast, that it fled to the thicket to 
 hide its nakedness. Have brutes no sensibility? Are 
 we not all aware that many of them have an instinct 
 rising up to reason? Yes, we have an instance of it 
 here, for the poor creature, not insen.»ate to its ludi- 
 crous appearance, fled to the thicket, like those am- 
 bassadors of the olden time, who wlien the enemy in 
 mockery sheared off one half of those venerable pen- 
 dant ornaments which in those days (guiltless of ra. 
 zorslj hung from the chin, tarried at a frontier tow'n 
 till their beards were grown. The animal, my lord, 
 was ashamed of itself. And the dogs, so far from de- 
 serving the unworthy epithet of savage, acted like 
 honest and faithful guardians, and perceiving on the 
 premises some 'gorgon or chimera dire,' they screwed 
 up their courage to the sticking point, and with one 
 rush destroyed it!' 
 
 Ingenious were the arguments, and touching and 
 forcible the eloquence on both sides, until finding his 
 lordship completely bewildered — 
 
 Both lovingly agreed, at once, to draw 
 A ppecijil case, and save the point in law; 
 That 60 the battle, neither lost nor won, 
 C:ontinuc(l, ended, and again begun, 
 might still survive, and other suits succeed 
 Tor future heroes of the gown to lend. 
 
 THE EACLE'S AERIE. 
 
 On reaching tho bottom of the rock, in wlioso face 
 the aerie stands, we discovered that the old birds were 
 absent, and as the nest was formed in a deep fissure, 
 wo could not ascertain its position exactly. But that 
 the eagle's dwelling was above us, was evident enough; 
 the base of tho clift" was strown with bones and featli 
 ers, and the accumulation of both was extraordinary. 
 The bones of rabbits, hares, and domestic fowls, were 
 most numerous, but those of smaller game, and vari- 
 ous fish, were visible among the heap. 
 
 Many attempts are annually made to destroy this 
 predatory family. It is impossible to rob tho nest. 
 Situated two hundred feet above tho base of tho rock, 
 it is, of course una])proaehable from below, and as the 
 cliffs beetle over it frightfully, to assail it from above 
 would be a hazardous essay. An enterprising peasant 
 some years since, was let down by a rojio and basket, 
 but he was fiercely attacked by llio old birds, and tho 
 
 basket nearly overturned. Fortunately tho cord was 
 strong, iind had sufficient lenglh to allow of his being 
 lowered rapidly, or he would have undoubtedly sus- 
 tained some bodily injury from the wings and talons 
 of those enraged and savage birds. 
 
 The following interesting anecdote is well aufficnti- 
 catcd. 'Two eagles, in the widest part of a neighbor- 
 ing country, had for some time depredated on tho 
 neighliorhood, and bore away lambs, kids, &c., for the 
 sustenance of their young. Some peasants deter- 
 mined, if possible, to obtain tho young birds, and as- 
 cended the mountains, but found that the nest was in 
 a part of tho perpendicular rock, near one hundred feet 
 below the summit, and about three hundred above the 
 sea, which, with' terrific appearances, dashed against 
 its base. They had provided themselves with ropes, 
 and a lad, armed with a cimeter, was by this means 
 lowered by the rest. He arrived in safety at tho nest, 
 where, as he expected, he was attacked with infinite 
 fury, by one of the old eagles, at which he made a 
 stroke witli his sword, that nearly cut asunder the rope 
 by which he was suspended. Fortunately o'no strand 
 of it remained. Ho described his state to his com- 
 rades, waiting in horrible expectation that the division 
 of the cord would precipitate him to tho bottom; but 
 though he might have been to die by a rope, it was not 
 in this manner; he was cautiously and safely hauled 
 up, when it was found that his hair, which a quarter of 
 an hour before had been of a dark auburn, had in tliat 
 short period become perfectly white!' 
 
 The village of Dugurth suffers heavily from its un- 
 fortunate proximity to the aerie. When the wind blows 
 from a favorable point, the eagle, in the grey of the 
 morning sweeps through the cabins, and never fails 
 carrying off some prey. 
 
 To black fowls eagles appear particularly attached, 
 and the villagers avoid as much as possible rearing 
 birds ot that color. 
 
 A few days before, one of the coast-guard, alarmed 
 by the cries of a boy, rushed from tho wa'ch-house; the 
 eagle had taken up a black hen, and, as ho passed 
 within a few yards, the man flung his cap at him. Tho 
 eagle dropped the bird, it was quite dead, however, 
 the talons having shattered tho back bone. The vil- 
 lagers say (with what truth I know not,) that turkeys 
 are never taken. 
 
 That the eagle is extremely destructive to fish, and 
 particularly so to salmon, many circumstances would 
 prove. They are constantly discovered watching the 
 fords in the spawning season, and are seen to seize 
 and carry oft' the fish. One curious anecdote I heard 
 from my friend the priest. Some years since a herds- 
 man, on a very sultry day in July, while looking for a 
 missing sheep, observed an eagle posted on a bank 
 that overhung a pool. Presently the bird stooped and 
 seized a salmon, and a violent struggle ensued; when 
 the herd reached the spot, he found the eaglo pulled 
 under water by the strength of the fish, and tho calm- 
 ness of (ho day, joined to a drenched plumage, ren- 
 dered him unable to extricate himself. With a stone 
 the peasant broke tho eagle's pinion, and actually 
 secured the spoiler and his vielim, for he found tho 
 salmon dying in his grasp. — [Wild Sports of tho 
 West. 
 
 An Americ.vn Clekgym.vn. — In the state of Ohio 
 there resided a family, consisting of an old man of tho 
 name of Beaver, and his four sons, who had often 
 laughed to scorn the advice and entreaties of a pious 
 though very eccentric minister, who resided in tlio 
 same town. It happened one of the boys was bitten 
 by a rattlesnake, aud was expected to die, when the 
 clergyman was sent for in great haste. On his arrival 
 he found the young man very penitent, and anxious to 
 he prayed with. The minister, calling on the faniilv, 
 knelt do^vn and prayed on this wise — 'Oh, Lord! wo 
 thank thee for rattlesnakes. We thank theo because 
 a ratllesnake has bit Jiin We pray thee send a rat- 
 tlesnake to bite .Tohn; send one to bite Bill; send one 
 to bile Sam, and, I^ord, send the biggest kind of a 
 rattlesnake to bite the old man, for nothing but rattlc- 
 snukcs will ever bring tho Beaver family to repentance. 
 
232 
 
 IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 LORD PORTLESTER'S CHAPEL. 
 
 ST. ALI>KOn'8 CllDltCn, DfllLIN. 
 
 There is, perhaps, no ancient city of present im- 
 portance in the British Islands, tliat lias preserved so 
 few ancient architoetunil reiiiains, as cur own metrop- 
 olis. Of modern ruins we have, alas, but too many — 
 but of ancient ones, such as the mind takes pleasure in 
 Burvcjinp, there is almost none ; there is not a sinfrlo 
 house remaining, erected previous to the last century, 
 and with the exception of our venerable Cathedrals, 
 wc have no one important architectural characteristic 
 of an ancient city, and no ecclesiastical ruin of any kind, 
 except the little chapel which is the subject of our pre- 
 fixed illustration. 
 
 This ruin, which is scarcely knov\-n even to most of 
 onr fellow citizens, constitutes a portion of the ancient 
 church of Si. Audeon's parish, which was once the 
 most wealthy and respectable within the city. The 
 date of the original foundation of this church, is un- 
 known — it certainly existed previous to the arrival ot 
 the Knjjlish, and was ajipropriated to the treasurer of 
 the Cathedral of St. Patrick, by Archbishop Henry de 
 liOundrcs, in 1213, and in 141)7 erected into a distinct 
 prebendary- The present church, however, has no 
 claim to such remote antitiuity, as it exhibits the archi- 
 tectural peculiarities of the 14th and l.iih centuries. It 
 originally consisted of a double aisle, separated by six 
 massive octagonal columHS,8uppo'tinggothic or point- 
 ed arches ; but the present church only occupies a 
 fourth of the original edifice, the remainder bciug, as 
 as represented in onr engraving, in complete ruin. 
 
 This parish church was eminently distinguished for 
 its ancient monumental remains, few of which, how- 
 ever, have survived. Amongst these, one particularly 
 deserving of attention lies near the east end of the 
 south aisle. It is a handsome table monument, of 
 black marble, bearing the recumbent elligics of a knight 
 in armor, and Ids lady, and is still remarkably per- 
 fect. 
 
 This tomb was erected in the year I4r).'), by a re- 
 markable character of his time. Sir Koland Fitz- Eus- 
 tace, Baron Portlester, in the County of Kildarc. He 
 successively filled the important offices of Deputy, un- 
 der the Lord Lieutenancy of Ireland, of George, Duke 
 of Clarence, the brother of Edward the fourth— then 
 of Lord Chancellor — and lastly, High Treasurer of the 
 Kingdom, which place he held for no less a peiiod 
 than 3S years. He was ennobled under the title of 
 
 LORD PORTLESTER'S CHAPEL. 
 
 Baron of Portlester, by Edward the Eonrth, in 14G2 : 
 but after all this acfnmlation of honors, he ultimately 
 experienced the vicissitudes of human life, having be- 
 fore bis death been removed from the treasurership, 
 and subjected to many troubles and nfilictions. He died 
 in I4'J6, and w.is interred in the Franciscan Alibcy 
 Church of New Abbey, in the county of Kildare, which 
 he had himself founded, and in which there is a similar 
 monument to his memory, and that of his lady, the 
 daughter of Jcnico d'Artois. 
 
 The tomb of St. Audeon's Church' bears on the mar- 
 gin the following inscription in the black letter or 
 gothic character. 
 
 "cOratc prn nninin Jlnlniiiii fi\] c!?D5!ni:c li 
 l^artlrj'irr, i]Di jjniir Inruiii nine rnjirllnm itrMt 
 in jjniinrriii Itrnfir 'Mam clirijiniia, rtiniii 
 jjra niiinm 3.tinrgnritR' ntnria siinr, rt p nn- 
 iiimlms niiiiiiniii fiklitiiii {irtuiittorDin." 
 
 The steeple ot this church was rebuilt in 1G70, the 
 former one having been blown down in 16G8. 
 
 P. 
 
 TnK BijKNiNO Mountain. — As is generally known, 
 their is a vein of coal located above water level in the 
 Broad Mountain, about seven miles from this Bor- 
 ough and near Heckschervillc, Pa., which fortwenty-onc 
 years has l)een on fire. The vein, which contains ex- 
 cellent white ash coal, is some forty feet in thickness. 
 The origin of the fire is attributed to a couple of miners 
 who having some work to perform in the drift in the 
 dci)th of winter, built a fire — they being cold — in the 
 gangway. The flames destroying the prop timbers, 
 were carried, by a strong current, rajjidly along the 
 passage, and the fire communicating to the coal, all 
 subsequent efforts to c.Minguiih it were ineftectual. 
 The men were cut ofl^ from escape, and were, undoubt- 
 edly, suffocated to death. Their remains were never 
 found. A few days since we ascended the mountain 
 at the spot of the fire, and were much interested in ex- 
 amining the effect of the fire upon the surface. The 
 course of it is from west to east, and where the vein is 
 nearest the surface, the ground is for the space of seve- 
 ral hundred feet sunken into deep pits, and while the 
 stones exhibit evidence of having been exposed to the 
 
 action of intense heat, every vestige of vegetation has 
 been blasted. It is a desert track in the midst of smil- 
 ing fertility. The ground in some places was almost 
 too warm for the hand to rest upon it, while steam 
 from water heated by the internal fire, rose from every 
 pore. The fire has evidently extended for several hun- 
 dred yitrds from the place it originated, and finds vent 
 and air to continue its progress, at the pits to which 
 we have alluded. A score of years has passed, still it 
 bums, and will burn until further fuel is denied the de- 
 vouring element. Thousands of tons of coal have un- 
 doubtedly been consumed, and thousands of tons may 
 yet feed the fire, before it is cheeked. 
 
 An AnSTKALiAN Millionaire and Siiakspeabb. 
 — A literary gentleman was once asked to deliver a 
 lecture ou the ' beauties of the poets,' in a well known 
 town in Australia. In the course of the evening ha 
 reiilcd Wolsey's farewell to the world, from Henty 
 VIII. A magistrate, asd one of the wealthiest and 
 most influential men in the town, who had been induced, 
 with difBcultj', to honor the lecturer with lys patronage, 
 hereupon remarked to a gentleman sitting near hin^ 
 that ' Jlr. Wolsey appeared to have been badly nscA 
 But,' he continued, ' who was this Wolsey? I nertr 
 heard of him before, did you '! Who or what was .'ic V 
 The party interrogated, very gravely replied, that Mr. 
 Wolsey formerly held a commission in a large and 
 important establishment at the west end of London. 
 ' I thought so,' rejoined the colonial millionaire; 'a 
 commercial traveller, I suppose. But,' he continued, 
 ' what did he mean by ' tender leaves of hope?' I sup- 
 pose he travelled for the firm of Hope in the tea trade V 
 This closing supposition, as may be supposed, proved 
 too much for the gravity of his respondent, who had 
 now to invent an excuse for the involuntary cachina- 
 tioa which followed so overpowering an inquiry. 
 
 :/ 
 
 During the stormy days of 1848, four stalwart mob- 
 ocrats cnterpd the bank of the late Baron Anselm do 
 Rothschilds, of Frankfort. ' You have millions on 
 millions,' said they to him, 'and we have nothing; 
 you must divide with us." • Very well ; what do you 
 suppose the firm of De Rothschild is worth ?' 'About 
 forty millions of florins.' ' Forty millions, you think, 
 eh >' Now there are forty millions of people in 
 Germany; that will be a fiorin apiece. Here is 
 yours.' 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 233 
 
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 IRISH MISCELLANY 
 
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 IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 BOSTON, SATURDAY, MAY 22, 1858 
 
 'Geraldine,' Lowell, Mass. 
 Irom you oRcu. 
 
 We shall be glad to hear 
 
 BRITISH OUTRAGES UPON AMERICAN 
 VESSELS. 
 
 When Andrew Jackson whipped the British at New Or- 
 leans, and preserved the 'booty and beauty' of that fair 
 city from the polluted clutches of the British army, it was 
 generally believed that the second war of independence had 
 been fought and won. The causes which led to that war, 
 so honorable in its results to American arms, were chiefly 
 owing totlie right claimed by Great Britain as 'mistress of 
 the seas,' to stop aud search American vessels upon the higli 
 seas, and take therefrom every seaman with a 'brogue' on 
 his tongue, on the plea that England claimed the allegiance 
 of her subjects forever, and that no British subject could 
 give up his allegiance to that government, and become the 
 citizen of another. That question we thought, was settled 
 by Andrew Jackson, but it seems we were mistaken. The 
 defeat sustained by England in that war, ought to have 
 sulEced her for a century. 
 
 England is like her native bulldogs: no sooner have the 
 wounds inflicted in the last fight become healed, than she is 
 anxious to get into another. During the war iu the Cri- 
 mea the vessels of England were simply used as transport 
 ships, and remained inglorious spectators of the contest. 
 Tistrue they tried their guns on the defenceless coast of 
 Finland, outraging its inhabitants and committing crimes 
 upon such females as fell into their hands, which should 
 call down upon that beastly army the vengeance of heaven. 
 The English government it seems, is determined that its 
 sea captains shall try their hands upon nobler game. They 
 have given orders to them to search all American vessels 
 passing the Gulf of Mexico. Acting under those instruc- 
 tions, six American vessels have recently, within a short 
 distance of this coast, been flred into by British cruisers 
 and overhauled. 
 
 The brig 'Robert Wing,' Capt. Bray, arrived at this port 
 was fired into and boarded on the 29th of April, ofl'Auga- 
 na; the 'Tropic Bird* of Philadelphia was tired into by the 
 British gun-boat Jaspar, and the schooner 'Mobile' arrived 
 at New York, was shot at from the British war steamer Styx 
 with Minne rifles, and afterwards boarded, and treated in 
 the most insolent and outrageous manner by the cemmand- 
 er of the Styx. The ship Grotto and barques Glenburn 
 and W. H. Chandler wore also outraged. 
 
 We wonder how far onr government will permit these 
 insolent outrages to proceed? This country has put up 
 with so many insults from this great bully of the East, that 
 we have but little hope of seeing a proper punishment in- 
 flicted upon her. 
 
 We have not, unfortunately sent a minister to England 
 for the last ten years, who has not returned home a British 
 flunky. After a few months residence in London, they 
 think more of the smiles and caresses of English aristo- 
 crats, than of the interests of their country or the republi- 
 can principles they are supposed to uphold. 
 
 In 1848, Bancroft declined to interfere in behalf of native 
 American citizens arrested in Ireland upon the most flim- 
 scy suspicions in violation of law. 
 
 At a later period Abbott Lawrence boasted of this coun- 
 try being of the same blood and religion as England, and 
 that too at a time when the government of that country 
 was exciting its brutal population to tear down Catholic 
 churclics, and hunt Catholic priests through the country, 
 precent American Democratic Minister at London, Mr. 
 Dallas, has proved himself the greatest flunky of all. His 
 base and brutal denunciation of tlie gallant ^^poyn^ at n 
 dinner in London, ought to have ensured his immediate 
 recall, and would have done so, if his government did not 
 endorse his sentiments. 
 
 The present Chief Magistrate of the country, when Min- 
 ister to England, pandered to the 'Anglo-Saxon' humbug, 
 by boasting that the people he represented, were of the 
 same Anglo-Saxon race. Now we hesitate not to say, that 
 wc do not expect James Buchanan to punish these British 
 
 outrages upon American vessels, or to redress the insults 
 given to the entire nation. The flrst moment we read his 
 inaugural, we tliiinght it smacked wonderfully like a Brit- 
 ish Queen's speech, and that the stylo and manncrclosely 
 resembled one of those jiioces of royal twaddle. Ilisap- 
 pointnienfs to oflice have convinced us that Great Britain- 
 has more power in the White House, than is generally sus- 
 pected, indeed, we know thot the policy of the Adminis- 
 tration is to give soft words to every applicant for oflico 
 from distinguished Irishmen, and that no inon, formerly a 
 British subject, need ajiply at Washington for any plnco 
 under the Federal Government, above that 01 a custom 
 house inspector. 
 
 It is time that Irishmen, who for years have worked and 
 toiled for the success of the Democratip party, should know 
 these truths. Over the White House at Washington these 
 words are visible, 'No Irish Need Apply.' 
 
 We repeat, therefore, that wedo not expect these outrages 
 to be redressed by the present Executive. His residence in 
 England has, we fear, made him 'more British than the 
 British themselves.' What then is to be done? Let tho 
 commander of every vessel going to sea, arm to the teeth 
 and resist the attempts of any English commander to board 
 him. Let them not heed their shots; or if the custom of 
 the sea does require that a merchantman should heave to, 
 in answer to ihe gun of a man-of-war, then do so; but 
 sternly forbid the. English ofBcer to trespass upon the deck 
 of an American ship. Resist his doing so at all hazzards, 
 and leave the consequences to the country. 
 
 It is meet that the people should take this matter out of 
 the hands of diplomatists, and insist upon prompt justice 
 in the premises. The press, we are pleased to say, of all 
 parties have spoken upon this matter with a unanimity but 
 seldom seen. If Lewis Cass has not forgotten the senti- 
 ments so long and ably advocated by him, he will insist 
 upon vessels of suflicient power being sent in pursuit of the 
 British cruisers, with instructions to inflict chastisement 
 upon them wherever they arc met with. England may, 
 and probably will, disavow the acts of her oflicers; but it 
 is certain these ofiicials would not dare to insult the flag of 
 the United States by such outrageous conduct unless they 
 had clear and explicit orders to that effect. We want no 
 apology; let us have justice first, and the bully may apolo- 
 gise afterwards. If the war of independence has to be 
 fought over again, the sooner it comes the better. 
 
 OUR PICTURE GALLERY. 
 
 Some misapprehension has arisen in the minds of our 
 readers as to the terms on which they will be entitled to 
 our Gift pictures. We beg to^allay all misapprehension by 
 informing them that every person who has taken our pub- 
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 our agents, will be entitled to all our gift pictures— it being 
 our intention to present our subscribers with a picture 
 with each new volume ot our paper. Every person who 
 has not hitherto been a subscriber to the Miscellany, must 
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 Newsubscriptions can commence at any time previous to 
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 A casual purchaser of our paper cannot expect to receive 
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 OUR NEXT NUIMBER. 
 
 The next number of the Miscellany will contain ele- 
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 Clare and Limerick; an Ancient Irish War Club, &c., &c., 
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 printed on clear, white paper. The usual variety of origi- 
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 will be a perfect gem. Send in your orders at once. The 
 poper will be i-ssued on Monday, the 24th inst., and will be 
 sold by all periodical dealers and newshien generally — at 
 only four cents a copy. 
 
 Nos. 4 AND 5. — Owing to the great demand for the earlier 
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 A variety of Editorials arc on the thirteenth page. 
 
234 
 
 IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 Written lor tlio lllecellBny. 
 THE EXILE'S WISH. . 
 
 BY PAKHY UCKEOH. 
 
 I vrlali I lind this very hour, 
 iSoiiiu liiiry »\w\l ormngio power, 
 Or wuiiil fruui ijomc inugiciuD's buwor 
 To wall mc ou au Kusturn tour. 
 
 Tlicn Willi my mORUCIi/iiig wnuj, 
 
 I'U hover o'er that holy laud, 
 
 Crowu'd with aloud onjipd luountnina grand 
 
 Where tlie glorious pillar towers stand. 
 
 Whore, pure «8 Joseph's spotless brido 
 Translucent streams and rivers wide, 
 Flow in sweet undulatinj; pride 
 To mingle in the boisterous tide. 
 
 Whose fragrance floods the balmy air 
 And sheds suqh heavenly perlumc there, 
 O'er blooming vales and flowers rare. 
 That Eden's bowers were not more fliir. 
 
 Where groves clad in rich verdure bright, 
 Soem radiant with siipernal light ; 
 Where the tuuel^il lark in her joyous flight 
 Adds to the scene such sweet delight. 
 
 Where Kmraet sleeps 'mong the sainted dead, 
 Is'o marble jnarks our young hero's head — 
 But holy angels mild lustre shed 
 Jj'rom their seraph wings o'er the hero,sbcd. 
 
 Like a blighted rose in th<f morning bloom. 
 He does repose in earth's quiet womb; 
 God grant me life to see on his tomb 
 liis name inscribed, and the tyrant's doom. 
 
 I'd wave my wand e'er hill and glen 
 And wake up the enchanted men ; 
 I'd soon sweep out the Saxon then. 
 And bring the Exile's home again. 
 
 I'd call iVom north, south east and west, 
 Home to that fruitful mother's breast. 
 Her noblest, truest, bravest, best — 
 Our MitcUel, ilcagher and the rest. 
 
 Written for the Miscellany. 
 WRITTEN ON LEAVING IRELAND. 
 
 BY M030NIA. 
 
 The tails are set, our gallant bark 
 
 So proudly ploughs the sea. 
 And bears mc on to scenes mure dark. 
 
 My land, since 'tis from thee. 
 
 Ahl sad my lot, my broken rest — 
 
 An exile ever more; 
 Ko more I'll gaze upon thy breast. 
 
 Or pace thy lovely shore. 
 
 My fairy dreams of bliss are gone — 
 
 Sly hopes so warm and bright. 
 All. all, alas', have swiftly flown 
 
 And faded into night. 
 
 No more thy sun's bright, radiant beams 
 
 Shall shine upon my head, 
 Ko more beside thy rushing streams 
 
 I'll make my verdant bed. 
 
 Those joys, too gay, too bright to last, 
 
 Have vanished like a dream ; 
 But memory, true unto the past 
 
 Still basks in their sunbeam; 
 
 And bright'ning fllncy in my breast 
 
 A home shall make for thee. 
 And tliere thou shalt forever rest. 
 
 Until I shall cease to be. 
 
 Written for the Miscellany. 
 <^ AN ACROSTIC. 
 
 BY OKKALDIKE. 
 
 Truth, justice and liberty— these did he write. 
 His aim and his object, his laud to unite; 
 Of the day star of freedom the value he told, 
 Marking out the bright path to the free and the bold; 
 And orange and green besought hard to entwine — 
 So that both neatb one banner would form into lino 
 
 Down, down with the red flag! he said to the tme. 
 And let our flag go up with the 'red white and blue; 
 Vain, vain were his eflbrts, this was not yet- to be — 
 Ireland was chained, though 'gem of the s«a;' 
 So broken hearted he died, without setting her free; 
 
 Written for the Irish Miscellany. 
 
 INK DROPS: 
 
 FnOM TltK PKN OP THE 'QVKKn COYE.' 
 
 No 6, — lie scttcth various mutters right. 
 
 It W0& royal Solomon, mcthinks, tliat would-be 
 enrvcr of bnbbics, Mr. Kditor, who somewhere in- 
 forms us ' there is no new tiling under the sun,' and 
 I am half inrlined to think he was ' i' the right." 
 For murk you now. History or tradition (for 'tis 
 one and the same thing,) informs us that tobacco was 
 first introduced into the united kingdom, by Sir 
 AValter Kaleigh. It would, no doubt, bo looked 
 upon as a species of insanity to doubt this, for even 
 the astute and erudite liaron Macaalay accepts the 
 legend as though 'twere gospel. But sir, -nith all 
 due defference, I think that ' bacca ' was kno■\^'n in 
 Europe, especially in the ' land o' cakes,' long be- 
 fore the time of Sir Walter. Nonsense, you say. 
 Well, perhaps it is — but to the proof. ^lacbclh, 
 who flourished in the eleventh century, some hun- 
 dreds of years before the time when llaleigh was in 
 high favor with the court of Elizabeth, and a few- 
 years longer than the time he was taller by at least 
 a head, tells us in the play as written by ' Shick- 
 spur, ' fhat his ' way of life had fallen into the sere 
 and yellow leaf.' Now, sir, if I take up a jiaper 
 printed in any of the tobacco growing states, I no- 
 tice advertisements of ' yellow leaf and ' golden 
 leaf (which is yellow also) tobacco for sale. Now 
 this clearly establishes the fact, that Mac used to 
 ■ chaw,' and I suppose he fell into the beastly habit, 
 (no, I won't call it that, for beasts have too mueh 
 good sense to indulge in the niootene weed,) filthy 
 is a better word — yes, filthy habit, as De Quincy 
 and many others used to ' sail in ' to opium, to re- 
 lievo his melancholy. It -was, no doubt, a solace 
 to him. Not, by the way, ' John Anderson's Solace ' 
 •which is fine cut, you know, done up in tin foil — 
 (and now bear with me a while, till I anathematize 
 that same tin foil. My visual orbs, as the poet 
 would say, are none of the best. I may say, with- 
 out any delicacy, that I am short-sig'htcd. AVell, 
 these tobacco chewfrs, will persist in throwing their 
 tin foil in the street, andl, ' good easy man,' phancy 
 that every piece I see is either a five or ten cent 
 piece ; and, as a matter of course, may, when on the 
 street, be noticed incessantly dropping down like a 
 hawk on its prey, on one of these glittering bits, 
 which are to the full as delusive as 
 
 'The dismal gleam that December's beam 
 Can cast on ice and snow.' 
 I invariably come up, however, with a scowl on my 
 face, and sometlung bearing a very strong resem- 
 blance toa ' swar ' ou my lips, realising more strong- 
 ly than ever tho truth of the adage that ' all is not 
 gold (or silver) that glisters.'). 
 
 Props ! a game delighted in by the fancy, numbers 
 of whom occasionally appear before the I'oUis Court, 
 for an illegal indulgence in it, it being one of those 
 games ' where, the more you put down the less you 
 take up. lloyle, whose authority I accept in all 
 matters appertaining to whist, forty-five, loo, poker, 
 etc., says this is eminently an American game. Now 
 I have the highest personal regard forlloyle, but 
 lloyle and I must differ. I think I have some data 
 with regard to this game, which he has overlooked. 
 Says ' lean and hungry ' Cassius, speaking of Julius 
 Cicsar, ' when the fit was on him, he would shake, 
 ye gods, how he would shake.' There's for you. 
 Julias Ca'sar, the master of the world ; the i>roprie- 
 tor of a *vrow,' who, unlike m.-iny of the present 
 day, WHS ' beyond reproach,' was given to shaking. 
 By my halidome ! ' there is no new thing under the 
 sun." He was in possession of inuncnse resources, 
 and I don't think he ever came out of the game 
 ' broke." lloyle, too, you observe, must subside — 
 he is corrected — the game is Roman, and classic, 
 and not American. 
 
 One thing more, and for the present I have done. 
 Of course you have been too Nubian entertainment, 
 
 and enjoyed the mtisic of the ' swart Ethiop " — you 
 may, too, have chuckled over the revived ' Joe Mil- 
 lar's," indulged in by 'bones,' and imagined with 
 ninety-nine one hundredths of the audience, tliot 
 his instrument as well as his jokes were new — in 
 fact, recent invention, coming up with the advent 
 of negro minstrelsy. A\'ell, sir, you were wrong. 
 The bones, as an instrument of music, arc very an- 
 cient. They are Atlicnian; of that we have the strong- 
 est evidence. Says Bully Bottom, one of Athens' 
 craftsmen, ' I have a reasonable good ear for music, 
 let us have the tongs and the bones.' See you now, 
 ' There is no new, &c ?" I do not know whether 
 Milford in his history of Greece, makes mention of 
 this fact or not ; but like the medical students the 
 day before examination, I will ' cram " on the sub- 
 ject. 
 
 Thus, having I trust, corrected soitie grave histor- 
 ical mistakes, which, 'twere well to set right, I will 
 at once proceed to ' take mine ease in ray inn,' and 
 ' so 1 leave you to your meditations.' 
 
 CORRESPONDENCE. 
 
 DcBLiN, April 30, IS.^S. 
 
 The papers are full of the intelligence of the captiiro 
 of Lucknow by Sir Colin Campbell and liis powerful 
 army; the only wonder to me is, that he should have 
 delayed its capture so long. But, after all, the sound 
 and fury about this great achievement of British arms, 
 what does it amount to? 'Tis tme ilic city is in the 
 possession of the English forces, but where is the great 
 army of rebel Sepoys which rcijuired such an over- 
 whelming force as that under the command of the 
 Scotch baronet to sulidue them'? liavo they been cap- 
 tured and the neck of the rebellion broke? On the 
 contrary, the Sepoys retired from Lucknow in perfect 
 order; tliey marched out and the British troops 
 marched in, perhaps to be agaia beseigcd by the 
 'rebels.' 
 
 The Times correspondent, onr countryman, Rus- 
 sell, is in lodia, and doing good service in his exposi- 
 tions of English cruelty and brutality towards the na- 
 tives. I commend his letters to your especial atten- 
 sion. 
 
 You have doubtless heard of the 'soupcrs.' They 
 arc a class of itinerant expounders or the gospel, who 
 infest the highw.iys and byways of our cities and 
 towns, bilile under arm, asking permission to convert 
 benighted Irish Catholics from tlic error of their ways, 
 and indoctrinate them in some span new system of 
 of religion, or the way to heaven made easyism. Wo 
 are somewhat of a stiff-necked generation, and prefer 
 the old way trodden by Patrick and the illustrious lino 
 of confessors, martyrs, and saints wlio have walked in 
 his footsteps. The soup preachers' desire for the sal- 
 vation of souls is confined to the most poor and unlet- 
 tered part of our countrymen, and- knowing the folly 
 of learned disi|uisilions upon the merits of Catholicity, 
 with such a stiff-necked people, seek to enlighten them 
 unto salvation by greasy soup, and other more sub- 
 stantial gifts and arguments. As we arc not now in a 
 starving state, these 'arguments' have little weight, 
 and their 'converts' are few and far between. This 
 fills the pious souls of the soupcrs with holy rage, and 
 they resort to abuse of the faith "of Ireland and vilify 
 that which the people believe to be sacred. The con- 
 sequence is, that disturbances are frequently caused — 
 the people sometimes being provoked to violcneo 
 against these mountebanks, and they are then made 
 to feci the rigors of English laws, administered by the 
 tools to bigotry and intolerance. Is it not shameful 
 that such conduct should be tolerated in a Christian 
 country! It is due to the respectable portion of the 
 Protestant community of every denomination to say 
 that they discountenance these disgraceful proceed- 
 ings and have, in many instances, publicly condemned 
 the conduct of these hirelings. 
 
 So long as we submit to pay annually several mil- 
 lions of pounds to a foreign church, whose members 
 are not a tenth part of our population, wc must, I sup- 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 235 
 
 pose, put up witii the insults of tliose paid emissaries 
 of Exeter Hall. 
 
 Smitli O'Brien's sixth address appears in this week's 
 Nation. Under the title of 'Administration ol Jus- 
 lice,' he shows up the beauties of our jury system. 
 With that delicacy of feeling which characterizes the 
 true gentleman, he declines to speak of the jury pack- 
 inj; by which his conviction upon charj^e of treason was 
 procured, but enters into the matter fully in the case 
 of his friend and fellow patriot, Meagher. The fol 
 lowing is an extract from his address upon that part 
 of the subject: — 
 
 Take, for instance, the trial of a Roman Catholic — 
 my friend, Thomas Francis Meagher. Though the 
 county of Tippcrary is one of the m«et Catholic coun- 
 ties in Ireland, there was not, if 1 recollect righty, a 
 single Catholic on the jnry which tried him. Now 
 imagine what would be the indignation of the Protest- 
 ants of the empire if a Belfast Orangeman were to be 
 tried by a jury consisting exclusively of Roman Cath- 
 olics for some otTcnce connected with those military 
 parades of Orangemen which have so often taken place 
 in the north of Ireland. I have already said that I 
 will offer no opitiion upon the verdict under which I 
 was sentenced to death, and actually transported ant 
 I have no hesitation whatever in affirming that Mr. 
 Meagher was not convicted according to law, and that 
 upon the evidence which came before the court he 
 ought to have been acquitted, if he had been tried by a 
 jury fairly constituted. Yet I am now at home, and 
 Mr. Meagher is still in exile — prohibited forever from 
 visiting, even for a short time, the country to which he 
 is fondly attached. I am little disposed to speak dis- 
 respectuUy of my Catholic fellow-countrymen, but I 
 tefl you frankly that it is a disgrace to the Catholic 
 community of Ireland that they have not, as one man, 
 derrianded the restoration of Mr. Meagher to his coun- 
 try. Irrespectively of the merits of the cause for 
 which he suffered, the gratitude which they owe to his 
 father, who was for many years a faithful representa- 
 tive of the people — the interest which they might nat- 
 urally have felt in the genius of the young orator who 
 promises to rival Grattan and Currau in eloquence — 
 above all, the flagrant insult which was offered lo the 
 whole Catholic community by the exclusion of Catho- 
 lics from the jury which tried him — all these consider- 
 ations ought to have kept in a state of uneasiness the 
 mind of every Irish Catholic so long as Thomas Fran- 
 cis Meagher was detained in exile. During the su- 
 premacy of the whigs, this trifling concession might 
 have easily been obtained by influential pressure on 
 the part of those who upheld the late government. 
 The whigs have lost an opportunity of doing an act — 
 I will not say — of grace or of generosity, but of simple 
 justice. It remains to be seen whether their succes- 
 sors — whether the Whiteside the Napier — the Fitzroy 
 Kelly, who, as paid advocate, arraigned the Verdicts 
 under which we were condemned, will now think it 
 consistent with the dignity of their party or with their 
 own personal honor to consent that a man whom they 
 believe to have been unjustly convicted shall be any 
 longer sulyccted to proscription and exile. 
 
 I say nothing about the cases of Mr. Mitchell and 
 of Mr. M'Manus, becatise they repudiate all inter- 
 vention on their behalf, but it is wonderful that 
 Englishmen should dare to arraign the Governments 
 of Austria and Naples on account of the severity 
 with which they treat political offenders A\'ho have 
 taken part in actual revolt — it is wonderful that 
 they should screen and applaud conspiracies formed 
 for the assassination of the foreign despot whom 
 they greeted with fulsome adulation when they re- 
 quired his assistance in their hour of need^whilst 
 they allow three Irishmen to remain under proscrip- 
 tion, whose hands arc unstained by blood, and whose 
 only crime, was an abortive attempt to restore tp 
 their country i^ legislature. Ten years of impris- 
 onment or exile are not considered an adequate pun- 
 ishment for the offence of having endeavored to re- 
 cover for their native land its undoubtful right. To 
 me it seems (and upon this point I am sure that I 
 speak the sentiments of a vast majority of my fellow- 
 countrymen) that such petty vindietiveness is very 
 contemptible, and utterly tinworthy of a nation 
 which claims for itself, above all others, the virtue 
 of magnanimity." 
 
 The Uogan testimonial is meeting with great suc- 
 cess. The subscription list is headed by the Lord 
 Ijieutcnant, and men of all parties seems anxious to 
 testify their regard for the great Sculptor who has 
 done so much to elevate the name of his country. 
 _lt is to be hoped that a fund will be raised sufKcient 
 to place his widow and largefamily in a comfortable 
 position for life. 
 
 The weather is remarkably fine, but business on 
 the whole is dull. We have passed through the 
 
 great panic comparatively unharmed, and look for- 
 ward with hope to the growing crops, which so far, 
 look well and promising. It is said that busirtcss 
 would be much better bnt for the uneasiness felt 
 owing to the unsettled state of matters between 
 England and France. ' The funds, however, are 
 buoyant, but it is rumored that some transactions 
 of a forced nature are going on, lest the political 
 pulse of the empire should display too much de- 
 pression. Certain it is, that great anxiety is felt in 
 commercial circles, lest a rupture should take place 
 between these powers. However, that is none of 
 our business. If England goes to war with France, 
 I hope Irishmen will let her fight it out. France 
 has not injured us, nnd Ireland has no cause of 
 quarrel with her ancient friend. The Irishman that 
 lifts his hand in favor of perfidious Albion against 
 ' la belle ' France, ought to be withered from the 
 face of the earth. Wishing you, my dear Miscella- 
 ny, every success in your most noble and patriotic 
 efforts in support of Irish literature, 
 I remaLa 
 
 AVONDHU. 
 
 Boston, May 7, 1858. 
 Editors of the Irish Miscellany : — 
 
 Two reasons induce me to say a few words lor 
 the national character of our race, through your 
 columns. 1st — 'Tis iti accordance with your pros- 
 pectus; 2d — ThroTigh a similar journal (Harper's 
 Weekly) appeared the vile slanders to which I wish 
 to reply. 
 
 It almost appears a folly to notice the attacks on 
 Irish character, but their libelous and poisoned 
 shafts frequently throw us into, not only the atti- 
 tude of defence, but like the hunted tiger make it 
 necessary we should become the hunters, which al- 
 ters the beauty of the scene, materially changes the 
 sport, and turns the pleasure into one of pain. In 
 plucking the bearded arrows from the skin-deep 
 wounds they inflicted, "and flinging them back, we 
 trust they may not wound the sensibUities of the 
 true American nationalist; they are only intended 
 for such as the Harpers', whose proclivities are, 
 hatred to the Irish — a narrow, bigoted rehash of 
 the nativeism of 1843, when one of that firm was 
 chosen Mayor of New York city, by that church 
 destroying faction. 
 
 We are not put upon otu defence, there being no 
 real charge established. We fling back then, the 
 lie, and appealing to history', leave there the refu- 
 tation. AVe simply add that the world throughout 
 which our people have been driven to seek liberty 
 and bread, will endorse them as a virtuous, law 
 abiding people at the present, as they ever have 
 been in the past. And while one Irish paper takes 
 to itself the article alluded to, we will quote what 
 belongs to every Irish journal, and analyze the 
 foam or fury of this noble representative of modern 
 Anglo-Saxonism. He writes: — 
 
 'But we will venture to submit for the considera- 
 tion of the influential organs of the Irish communi- 
 ty, whether the conduct of at least a portion of the 
 Irish people in this country is calculated to train 
 them for the position of command to which they 
 conceive themselves entitled. We are dealing with 
 facts, and not with theories; and we know that 
 Irishmen will be glad to meet us on this ground. 
 How then does it happen, as the criminal returns 
 show, that so cnoi-mous a proportion of the crime 
 committed in New York, is the work of Irishmen? 
 How is it that they people our penetcntiaries in so 
 large a proportion? How comes it that so dispro- 
 l)ortionate a share of the brut.al crimes which hor- 
 rify this community are perpetrated by Irishmen? 
 Common murders are peculiar to no naticm; but 
 barbarous murders—stamping out a man's life, out- 
 raging and murdering a poor girl, burning a man to 
 death on a hot stove — these, and kindred varieties 
 of murder, seem to be unduly frequent among the 
 Irish. Surely this sort of thing is not the proper 
 apprenticeship for a race which aspires to control 
 this continent. 
 
 There seems to'be among the Irish a fatal disre- 
 gard of what we poor Anglo-Saxons arc prone to 
 
 consider the decencies of life. The other day, at 
 Cincinnati, on St. Kitrick's Day, the health of Ncna 
 Sahib was drunk amidst vociferous ai)plausc by a 
 crew of assembled Celts. The authors of the mas- 
 sacre of women and children, the foulest outrages 
 which ever defiled humanity, were in like manner 
 applauded some time .since in this city by a meeting 
 of Irishmen, over which Colonel Ilaskett presided. 
 Of course, the Irish are entitled to exercise their 
 own judgment. But as the general sentiment of 
 this country is not, at the present time, favorable to 
 the mutilation and massacre of helpless children 
 and women, it would seem that these expressions 
 _of Irish opinion were ill adapted to forward their 
 aspirations to dontinion. The Irish should make 
 allowance for our Anglo-Saxon stupidity; if they 
 want to rule us, they should at least seem to bow 
 to our prejudices against lawlessness and brutality.' 
 
 In the whole of the above there is a reckless re- 
 gard for truth, of which any respectable journal 
 would feel ashamed. That portion referring to 
 'Nena Sahib's health being drunk by' not 'a crew 
 of assembled Celts,' but an association of honora- 
 ble men, met to keep in memory the redemption of 
 their native land from Pagan idolatry; not to ap- 
 plaud 'the authors of massacre,' or laud those who 
 defiled humanity, but to cheer the struggler for na- 
 tional freedom — to aid if possible in exposing the 
 foul frauds of the Anglo-Saxon. Too well knew 
 the -Celts of Cincinnati that England had, from ne- 
 cessity to lie, in order to blacken the characters of 
 sepoys, ans had not England been convicted before 
 the world of concocting all tha charges made 
 against the sepoys, and thus proving themselves the 
 base, bloody and brutal wretches they wished to 
 induce the world to believe the sepoys were? 
 
 In the ' Lawrence Sentinel,' of Saturday, Nov. 
 20th, wUl be found an article denouncing in true 
 American sentiments, the speech of George M. Dal- 
 las, the American Minister — for his flunkey and 
 brutal speech against the Sepoys. We recommend 
 it to the scribblers for Harper's Weekly— from which 
 we quote for their immediate interest: 
 
 'They have been made the slaves and instruments 
 of British avarice and lust. The very missionaries 
 who were sent among them professedly as religious 
 teachers, become their tyrants and task-masters. 
 In fact, they have been 'more sinned against than 
 sinning; and their oppressors, having sown to the 
 wind, are reaping the whirlwind of barbarian ret- 
 ribution. 
 
 Y'et the satisfaction which a civilized and Chris- 
 tian people depiands for this attempt at self de- 
 fence and self preservation, is indiscriminate 
 slaughter of the inhabitants of Delhi, the cold- 
 blooded murder of prisoners of war, and the blow- 
 ing from their guns of the Sepoy leaders. 
 
 It is this brutal policy, which, considering the civil- 
 ized pretensions of Great Britain, more than offsets 
 the criminality of the Sepoys, iliat our minister in 
 London feels called upon to vindicate and applaud in 
 the name of the American people — though we appre- 
 hend the sentiments which he expressed to their lord- 
 sliips will redound neither to the credit of himself nor 
 of those in whose behalf he presumed to speak. If 
 Mr. Dallas, fnmi whatever motives, desires to flatter 
 the foibles and glorify the piratical exploits of the 
 Briti-ih in India, he had better do so on his own pcr- 
 son'al account and responsibility, without involving his 
 countrymen, who have little sympathy to waste upon 
 so unreninnerative an object and would much prtfir 
 allowing ,John Bull to 'skin his own skunks,' iu this 
 piece of rank toadyism. 
 
 So much for drinking the Sepoys health, and 
 American sentiment thereto. Now we will do a 
 little by way of inslrurting Harper's scribbler, that 
 if the American people arc Anglo-Saxons, they par- 
 take somewhat of the vices of their English progen- 
 itors. The following is taken from the Boston Her- 
 ald of Jan. 23d, and gives the particulars of the 
 murder of a father and mother by a drunken son, at 
 Poolville, N. Y'. 
 
 ' That our readers may be fully posted in all the 
 particulars of the recent horrible parricide at Pool- 
 ville, 'Madison county, one of the editors of the Her- 
 ald yesterday visited the scene of the murder for the 
 purpose of giving an authentic account of the awful 
 affair. It is a crime without precedent in its enor- 
 mity and without parallel in its terrible and unnat- 
 ural details. History furnishes no instance of a 
 similar act of iuhtunanity, and no conception of 
 
236 
 
 IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 horror has, pcrha]):*, ever reached the standard of 
 this dread mality. A son murdering liis own father 
 and mother with most jeniorseless frenzy and cruel- 
 ty, then cutting out their hearts, and roasting and 
 eating their flesh, is on instance of depravity nc\er 
 before recorded, not even in cannibal countries. 
 What adds to its dread horror is the full conviction 
 of its reality. There is no doubt as to the truthful- 
 ness of the picture. It can scarcely be drawn accu- 
 rate enough. Words will hardly suit themselves to 
 such n recital as the facts justify. Hut to the iJici- 
 dents themselves, as we found tliem.' 
 
 Here is an Anglo-Saxon public opinion. 
 
 ' Men who have known AVm. Comstock, tlicraur-' 
 derer, for years, and who have often employed him 
 are firm in the belief that liis action on Sunday last, 
 was the result of dring. No one in or about Ham- 
 ilton has ever observed the slightest tendency of 
 the man to insanity, and he has never been known 
 to be vicious and depraved except when under the 
 inlluence of liquor. Public sentiment clearly justi- 
 fies the conclusion that the debauchery he has in- 
 dulged in for the past few weeks produced the state 
 of mind which prompted the cruel, unnatural, and 
 unheard of decdt lie was brought to Hamilton on 
 Monday and kept all night. He conversed freely 
 about the crime. On Tuesday he was removed to 
 the jail at Morrisville, where he will remain until 
 the meeting of the Grand Jurv, in I'ebruary. — TJtica 
 Herald, 13th.' 
 
 We have given but the first and last paragraph in 
 the article. No one who knows the fiend, sets- up 
 the remotest plea for his insanity. In the Boston 
 Ledger, of MayGth, can be found the folio wing out- 
 rage. 
 
 The Cincinnati Commercial, of Tuesdsry last, says 
 that Sarah Jane Hose, a girl not 17 years old, who 
 came to that city a deck passenger, on a steamer 
 from Northwestern Virginia, was decoyed by a 
 party yf young men into a house in that city, and 
 brutally treated. The men were arrested.' 
 
 Again, in the ' LawTcncc Sentinel,' of March 20th, 
 will be found the vile story that — 
 
 'Jonathan C. Burroughs, a loathsome beast resid- 
 ing in Northampton, the same who threatened the 
 life of his soUf is now held to answer the charge of 
 rape upon three of his own daughters, aged twelve, 
 thirteen and eighteen years. 
 
 ■WTiile the .' ANTieeling Intelligencer,' tells how two 
 boys murder the suspected paramour of their mother. 
 
 We are reliably informed that a murder was com- 
 mitted at Lyttleton Station, on the Baltimore and 
 Ohio llailroad, last Sunday night, ilrs. Manly, a 
 widow' woman, resides with her two sons near Lyt- 
 tleton. For a long time the sons have suspected 
 that an improper intimacy existed between the wid- 
 ow and a man of rather bad character in the neigh- 
 borhood. On Sunday night the boys left home in- 
 tending to remain away over night, but something 
 occurred which induced them to return sooner than 
 they expected. Upon entering the house they dis- 
 covered the suspected man, and maddened by the 
 thought of their disgrace, they fell upon him with a 
 terrible ferocity, stabbing him so severely that death 
 resulted in a short time afterwards. One of the boys 
 is about ten and the other fifteen. 
 
 In the Boston Ledger, of May 7th, can be seen a 
 tale of wholesale poisoning, at Chester, N. Y., by a 
 Mrs. Phccbe Westlakc, who, when arrested, com- 
 mitted suicide. 
 
 Vpon the terrible murder, (or parricide) at Dra- 
 cut, lately, where Joshua Heath was murdered by 
 his son and daughter — the ' Boston Post,' speaks in 
 the following sensible strain : — ' ^\liile such crimes 
 05 this are committed by native residents of our pwii 
 commonwealth, it can hardly be considered the duty 
 of its citizens to undertake the reformation of any 
 other people in the world.' The son had been in 
 prison, and the daughter is a mother without the 
 preliminary of marriage. Here, then, are a few 
 specimens of Anglo-Saxon crimes, which are eqaallcd 
 almost every day, if the reports of the press arc to 
 be believed. 
 
 The recapitulation of crime affords ns no pleasur- 
 able sensstion ; especially of cases such as are here 
 recorded — the finer feelings of humanity regrets 
 that the perpetrators should exist in the human 
 form — debasing what was God's Image, to the real- 
 
 ity of a demon. The daily insults we receive must 
 be our excuse, for thus recording these revolting 
 narratives. We hold the white race to be superior 
 to the African ; and amongst the many t)^)eB of hu- 
 nuinity, none are superior to the Irish. They have, 
 and do, hold positions all over the w orld, requiring 
 ilie (luiekest mental vigor, and acutcncss — while 
 physically, they are perhaps superior to any other 
 in the world. 
 
 Agrarian outrages often blot the fair page of Ire- 
 land's history, we are ready to admit. After all we 
 are human, and when men are driven by tyranny, to 
 desperation, who can say what they may not do. 
 We do assert, however, that few ore the real and 
 brutal cases of depravity committed by Irishmen in 
 this country, and whenever we find one such case, 
 depend upon it, it is owing to the lessons of Anglo- 
 Sa.\on morality he has acquired here, and to his 
 forgetfulness of his virtuous Irish teachings. AVe 
 assert, the Irish people, despite England's endeavors 
 to contaminate them, are religeous — virtuous and 
 conservative ; not so of the so called Anglo Saxons, 
 who compose the licentious Mormons — the free- 
 lovers — spiritualists — fourierites nor abolishionists. 
 They may not be progressive enough to catch the 
 morals of the latter-day saints ; but they lose nothing 
 by their adherence to old doctrines — to old customs. 
 If the penny-a-liner for 'Harper's Weekly,' boasts of 
 his Anglo-Saxonism, we refer him to Do Foe — his 
 countrymen, for a description of that animal, He says : 
 
 'A true born Englishman's a contradiction, 
 
 In speech au irony, in fact a liction; 
 
 A banter made to be a test of fools, 
 
 AVhich thoge that use it justly ridicule; 
 
 A nietaplior invented to express 
 
 A man akin to all the universe.' 
 Sorry to occupy so much of your valuable space, I 
 am. 
 
 Yours &c., &c., 
 
 Paudeek. 
 
 New York, April 30, 1858. 
 Editors of tlic Miscellany ; — 
 
 I feel an honest pride in saying that your paper is 
 admirably conducted. Many arc the panegyrics I 
 hear bestowed upon it by our countrymen here. It 
 brings back recollections of that land, where we have 
 played in childhood, and whose regeneration is our 
 dearest hope, and for which we shall labor, ever. 
 
 The republication of the Dublin Penny Journal, en- 
 hances its value. If you are encouraged in your la- 
 bors, I predict an achievement for you, which will be 
 alike honorable to you,jind benfieial to our countrymen 
 here. J. F. B. 
 
 Written for the Miscellany. 
 
 'THE MILITARY ELEMENT IN THE IRISH 
 
 CHARACTER.' 
 
 lI.I-tJSTK.VTED FliOM HI9TOnr. 
 
 Part 2. 
 An instance of the mode in which Irishmen fight at 
 home is to be found in the defence of the bridge of 
 Athlonc against the troops of De Ginklc, which needs 
 but the pen of a Thucydiilcs to make it another Tlicr- 
 mopyla; for never did individual valor create a nobler 
 e[iisode in history than the magnificent self-sacrifice of 
 those Irish grenadiers, who, one after the other, hurled 
 the planks of the bridge into the river, though musket 
 balls were falling round them as thick as rain-drops in 
 a thunder shower. 
 
 On the 18th of June, 1691 De Ginkle, William's 
 Dutch general approached the town of Athlonc with a 
 a veteran and highly disciplined army, and opened the 
 siege, after a whole day's skirmisl-ing with the out- 
 posts of the Irish, under Fl_tzgerald, who retired step 
 by step, — battling for every inch of ground, and con- 
 verting every ditch and hedge in a miniature MalakoflF 
 or licdan — until beaten back to the foot of the ram- 
 
 j ports, and finally driven into the Engiisli jiorlion of 
 the town which was quite unten.iblc. With the fire of 
 
 I his heavy artillery, Ginldo soon made a breach, and 
 
 4O0O men were led on to the assault. The gaiTison in 
 this part of the town was only Kii) strong, just one to 
 ten of the nssaultin<^ party, yet for houri they maih- 
 laincd their post, until half their number were pikd up 
 corpses in the breach, when the remainder retired to 
 the bridge which connected the Iiish ami Engli.sh towns 
 lying at the opposite sides of the channel where they 
 stood firm. Hero they met the shock of battle, and 
 yielded ;iot a foot to the tremendous force opposed to 
 them until they had broken down two arches of the 
 bridge and thus cut oil' all communication with the 
 Iriiih town; and then, with the fortitude of heroes \\\ib 
 had served their country well, acce])tcd the death that 
 was inevitable. 
 
 Ginklc erected kitteries so high that they overtopped 
 the walls, and swept the streets of the town. For seven 
 days with mortars and 24 poimders he kept up a con- 
 tinuous fire on the devoted garrison who had but o few 
 five and seven pound field pieces to reply with. But 
 the bridge had to be crossed before the town could bo 
 taken; therefore the English threw planks across the 
 broken arches, whereupon the scrjcant of the Irish 
 grenadiers volunteered to throw them into the river. 
 A shower of balls and grenades from the English bat- 
 teries swept the narrow bridge as the advanced to their 
 hazardous task, and of the devoted cloven not one re- 
 turned. The smoke of tht guns had not cleared 
 away before ten more volunteers were on the bridge 
 hurling the planks into the stream. Under the deadly 
 fire they pursued their work — the temporary bridge 
 was destroyed, and two heroes out of the ten returned 
 to the town. By this time the English have con- 
 structed another bridge more stable than the former, 
 which they push across the chasm; and they defend it 
 with a more terrible storm of iron than before. But 
 Irish valor is still undaunted; — a little party rush down 
 to the bridge, and for half an hour, in the midst of 
 death, with their numbers diminishing every second, 
 they essay to set it on fire. Before the last man is 
 shot down, the lurid flame mounts up and again the 
 bridge is destroyed. 
 
 Yet we arc told that the Irish always fight badly at 
 home! 
 
 By this time there are no defences to be maintained. 
 The ramparts are battered down — the castle is demol- 
 ished — the houses are a mass of ruins. The town is 
 so exposed to the fire of the enemy, that, as an Irish 
 ofiicer said, not a cat could appear without being 
 knocked on the head by a shot. It is no wonder then 
 that the siege of Athlone terminated di.sastrously for 
 the Irish; but surely never dtd a victorious army de- 
 serve more fame than did these defeated heroes. And 
 this, in every battle throughout the cam])aign, wheiher 
 scccessful or vanquished, did tlic Irish prove themselves 
 good soldiers and valiant men. 
 
 At Aughrim, where inexperienced troops, uot half 
 furnished with the necessaries of war were pitted 
 against an army flushed with victor}- in Flanders, two 
 unforeseen disasters lost the battle for the Irish. First, 
 the Irish, fighting ns they always can fight with ad- 
 vantage in Ireland, converted the ditches into natural 
 redoubts, and defended them one by one as the enemy 
 advanced — 'defended them so stoutly,' says the Eng. 
 li.i;^ chronicler Story, 'that they woul^ maintain one 
 side till our men put their pieces over to the other, and 
 having lines of communication from one ditch to an- 
 other, they would presently post themselves again and 
 flank as.' It is consoling to think that those ditches 
 are there still; this mode of warfare is as good to-day 
 as it was on the 12th of July, 1691. Neither' cavalry 
 nor artillery can work efl'ectually among those awk- 
 ward Irish ditches, while they afl^ord fine shelter for 
 sharp shooters, armed with Minne rifles. But it hap- 
 pened in this battle of Aughrim that the English were 
 so vastly superior in numbers that they were able to 
 outflank the Irish behind their natural entrenchments, 
 and St. Buth, perceiving the movement* ordered a 
 battallion from the left to the point of attaek; but by 
 a fatal blunder in conveying his order — just such a 
 hWndcr as sacrificed the British light brigade at Bal- 
 aklava — the battalion which defended a causeway the 
 
IRISH mSCELLAN^Y. 
 
 237 
 
 only piissngo across the bog by wliich the English ciiv- 
 coulii approach the Irish lines, receiving tlie command 
 which was intended for another left their position. 
 This advantage was at once taken liy the enemy. Tlic 
 Knglish horse carried liio causeway at a dasli, and fell 
 upon their foes. This was the first disaster. St. 
 Eiilh, seeing the effect of the mana-uvro, put himself 
 at the head of the Irish reserve cavalry, fresh, brave 
 troops, and rushed into the fight, and in the very Crisis 
 of the battle, struck by a cannon ball, fell dead. An 
 instant panic followed this second disaster. His 
 troopers drew the reign. The infantry, mostly raw 
 recruits, were paraly/.cd. The cavalry stood still, and 
 in their inexorable immobility were mowed by the fire 
 of the batteries; they stood until the charge of the 
 English squadrons broke tliera, and they fled towards 
 Loughrea. The infantry continued to fight despe- 
 rately, and maintained their ground for some time, 
 until they were completely surrounded, when they fell 
 into confusion, scattered and fled in all directions, 
 hotly pursued and butchered by the English cavalry, 
 so that for half a century after, says the historian, the 
 heights of Kilcommodon were whitened with their 
 bones. They fought against tremendous odds, and 
 fought bravely, though conquered. Thus also, at the 
 Boyne the cowardice of King James, and at Limerick 
 the superiority of their artillery won the battles for the 
 English. But it must be noted that it was not the 
 flower of the Irish army who were engaged in these 
 contests. James the 2d had previously made aeon- 
 tract with the French King Louis, whereby 5000 of 
 the best troops — the regiments of Mouuteashel, Clare 
 and Dillon were transferred to France iu lieu of an 
 auxiliary force of French troops, 6000 strong, who were 
 far indeed from being the pick and choice of French 
 chivalr)-, but for the most part were mercenaries and 
 raw recruits. The first Irish brigade had already left 
 'the land of the heart's hope' forever. The first flight 
 of the 'Wild Geese' had darkened with their wings the 
 waters of that channel they were destined never to re- 
 cross, and the men who should have been bearing the 
 green standard victoriously at Aughrim and the Boyne 
 — who should have dictated, and not accepted a treaty 
 at Limerick, were wasting their blood for a foreign 
 sovereign on a foreign soil; — storming the citadel of 
 Cbamberry — chasing through the glaciers of the Gra- 
 iaa Alps, by paths and over crags that the wild goat 
 feared to tread; in the region of the inexorable ava- 
 lanche, through savage defiles where the legions of 
 Ca;sar cut a desperate passage — chasing the native 
 Piedmontese from their position, and forcing away 
 throngh the passes of St. Bernard and St. Cenis into 
 the olive plains of Italy. 
 
 To be Continued- 
 
 New Clothing. — In these days of revivals, when 
 we arc 'putiing off the old man and taking on the 
 new,' some of our friends would look all the better by 
 casting off their 'old garments,' and 'putting on new.' 
 A converted sinner looks none the worse for a new 
 coat — it is often the indication of a new life. We 
 would therefore direct the attention of our readers, 
 saints and sinners, to the advertisement in another 
 column, of Smith & Co., corner of Elm St. and Dock 
 Square. This firm is extensively engaged in the 
 cldihing trade, keei)ing on hand the best stock of ready 
 made clotliing in the city, which they sell at moderate 
 profits. In the custom department they cannot be ex- 
 celled; their stock of cloths is so extensive that the 
 most fastidious taste cannot hut be pleased. Their 
 cutters are artists of the first class, who have brought 
 their art to the perfection of science. Wc say this 
 from i)ractical experience, and not for the purpose of 
 making an erapiy puff. Let our friends give them a 
 call; they will meet with gentlemanly and polite at- 
 tention. 
 
 NEWSPAPORIAL. 
 
 TuK KxAjriNKU, is tlic imnie of a new Irish-AmericBn 
 paper, the liret number of wliich nindo its appearance in 
 tho city of Ciuciunati on the Ist of lluy. It contains ciglit 
 pages, is published weekly by V. O'Bcirne & Co., uurt it.s ty- 
 poyrnplucal execution is of a superior order. Its editorials 
 brentlio apuro 'IrislvAmerican sentiment, every sentence 
 has the ring of the true metal. It is also independent in 
 politics. We much admire this featuie of the Examiner, 
 Our people have too long been made the tools of political 
 demagogues and used for the promotion of the selfisli ob 
 jccts of a few, to the sacrifice of their own independence 
 aud welfare. We wish the E.\amiuer every success. 
 
 The following is an extract from its prospectus :— 'The 
 organ of no clique or party, without fear or alfection, the 
 'E.\nmiucr shall speak to its readers on all subjects of in- 
 terest, in a spirit of sraternal kindness, and inculcate free- 
 dom of thought and action in politics, whether the oracles 
 of party fret or frown. The couductors will labor to in- 
 culcate a high public spirit, and prompt the citizens of 
 Irish birth to a lofty ambition. 
 
 To lemove the load of odium unjustly cast on the Irish 
 people, by the agents of England, and the virulence of 
 party, may be the work of years, but it is the sacred duty 
 and shall be the ambition of the editors to accomplish. 
 Faithful to the obligations, and attentive to the interests 
 of the Republic under whose protective influence we have 
 found a refuge and a home, we shall not forget the memo- 
 ries of the 'Green Isle,' nor fail to point the exile to the 
 hopes that should animate him, in his legitimate endeavors 
 to obtain of his kindred in the old land, the freedom of 
 which they have been so fraudulently plundered. 
 
 While we shall endeavor to avoid those questions which 
 have hitherto sown dissenfions and division in the ranks of 
 our countrymen, or discuss them in a manner void of of- 
 fence, we shall use our best efforts to inculcate a spirit of 
 unity and fraternal feeling, among all sections of Irishmen 
 without reference to creed or class.' 
 
 The Monitok, is the title of a new Catholic paper, pub- 
 lished weekly in the city of ,San Francisco, and conducted 
 with much ability. While it fearlessly defends the inter- 
 ests of the Catholic church, it is not unmindful of those of 
 Ireland aud Irishmen; in this respect it is racy of the soil. 
 Its selections are made with good judgment, and we are 
 sure it will prove a powerful advocate, and do good service 
 in the cause of truth. We hope it will receive a liberal 
 support, and that its editors aud proprietors may lay up a 
 'pile of rocks' commensurate with their laudable under- 
 taking. 
 
 The Ieish Ameeican is publishing weekly the interest- 
 ing letters by John Mitchel, upon the events which trans 
 pired iu Ireland in the years '45-'48, having made arrange- 
 ments with that gentleman for the purpose. This is a great 
 hit upon the part of our esteemed cotemporary, and shows 
 that he has his eye keenly upou business. We are glad to 
 hear that this able newspaper meets with great success. It 
 is one of our best conductedjournals. 
 
 It was unc(' said of a beautiful wom'an, that from 
 her childhood she had ever .';poken smilingly ; as if 
 the heart spoke juy iiom the lij}S, as they turned in- 
 to beauty. 
 
 THE rtlLL OF TARA. 
 
 Tara, so celebrated in the early annals of Ireland, 
 was for ages the chief residence of the monarchs of 
 the conntry — the centre from which their laws wera 
 promulgated; the resort of the great and the learned 
 poets and druids. We are told that it became the res- 
 idence of her kings on tho first establishment of the 
 monarchy, under Slainge, long before the Christian 
 era, and so continued until tho century after the con- 
 version of the nation to Christianity by the preachin" 
 of St. Patrick. 
 
 Its ancient magnificence has been the tlicme of ad- 
 mii-ation on the part of the Philo-Milcsian, while its 
 very existence has been called in question by some of 
 the modern schools. Though there is at present litile 
 else to attract the eye than a succession of grass-cov- 
 ered mounds, stilK, upon a close examination, there is 
 sufiicient to attest the fact that ic contains the moul- 
 dered ruins of former grandeur and magnificence. In 
 the grave-yard, near tho summit of the hill, which is 
 said to occupy the site of a once famous pagan temple, 
 arc some remarkable relics of antiquity. Among oth- 
 ers i.s the famous ' Cross,' which jioints out the spot 
 where, in the fifth century, Bcnen, the disciple of St. 
 Patrick, escaped uninjured from the flames, and wheio 
 stood the house in which Lucad, thedruid of Kin" La- 
 ogaire, was burned. This alludes to the legend, which 
 is still told in the neighborhood, of the proposition 
 m.Hdc hy the king to the saint, to confine Bcnen and 
 Lucad in a house to which fire was to he set, and if the 
 disciple was spared and tho druid consumed, tho king 
 would embrace Cnristianily. This was accordingly 
 
 done, and when the flames subsided, to the astonish- 
 ment of the multitude, Benin came forth uninjured, 
 while the druid jierished in the devouring element. 
 
 V\ hether we reject thu accounts of historians as fab- 
 ulous, or accept them as poetic exaggerations, it is im- 
 possible to consider the ■ Hill of Tara ' in any other 
 light than that of a place in which multitudes former- 
 ly dwelt. Of this there is abundant evidence apart 
 from all doubtful authority ; not only in the valuable 
 ornaments of gold which have been from time to limo 
 dug up in the vicinity, a few of which have been de- 
 posited in the museum of the Royal Irish Academy, 
 in tho ancient names of several neighboring localities, 
 and in the various roads which now lead to the hill of 
 which distinct traces remain ; but the character and. 
 appearance ot the place remove all doubt of its having 
 been tho work of human hands, and not the production 
 of nature. 
 
 Some of the bardic accounts of this famous locality 
 are exceedingly interesting. Fite, the bard, who lived 
 in the first century, informs us that Ollamh Fodhla, 
 the twenty-fllrst monarch erected on Tara the Mur 01- 
 lamham or 'College of Sages, and also instituted the 
 celebrated Feis of Tara, which was an assembly of 
 all the states of Ireland, and met every three years. 
 An ancient manuscript preserved in the library of 
 Trinity College contains the foUowsng curious des- 
 cription of the Hall of Tara, in the reign of Cormac 
 Ulfada in the third century: — 'The palace of Tamar 
 is nine thousand square feet ; the diameter of the sur- 
 rounding ratb, seven casts of a dart ; ii contains one 
 hundred and fifty apartments, and the same number 
 of dormitories. There were one hundred and fifty 
 drinking-horns, twelve porches, twelve doors, and one 
 thousand guests sat daily at table, besides princes, ora- 
 tors, men of science, engravers of gold and silver, car- 
 vers, moulders, &c.' 
 
 The manuscript go on to state that the hall had 
 twelve divisions on each wing; sixteen attendants 
 on each side, eight for the astrologers, historians 
 and secretaries, in the rear of the hall, and two to 
 each table at the doors; one hundred guests in all; 
 two oxen, two sheep and two hogs were served at 
 each meal. In tho tfonvention of Tara, the su- 
 preme monarch occupied an elevated throne in the 
 centre of the hall; the subordinate kings occupied 
 seats on his right and left; the druids, bards, phil- 
 osophers and musicians were also entitled .to seats 
 in this assembly. The session was opened by the 
 chief bard delivering an ode accompanied by mu- 
 sic; the druidic riteS followed, and these being 
 completed, the fire of Samhain was lighted and the 
 business of the convention was commenced. It 
 was before this august assembly that St. Patrick 
 announced the sacred truths of Christianity; it 
 was from Tara as a centre, that the light oi tho 
 Gospel spread through every part of Ireland. 
 
 Tara retained its splendor and magnificence do>vn. 
 to the year 565, when it was still the seat of royal- 
 ty. At this period, we arc informed by the ancient 
 chroniclers, that it was cursed by St. Kudhan, who 
 prayed that no king or queen should ever reign in 
 Tara, that its court and palaces should crumble to 
 the dust. However this may be, it is certain that 
 the grandeur of Tara is faded from the earth, and 
 its glory dwells only in song. AVhcn the traveller 
 visits this once famous spot, he finds scarcely a ves- 
 tage to recall the reminiscence of its former great- 
 ness. Its 'chiefs and ladies bright' no longer fill its 
 halls; its bards have vanished; its music is no lung- 
 er heard — all is silent. 
 
 Our very manner is a thing of importance. A kind 
 no is often more agreeable than a rough yes. 
 
 ' My Gcnnan friend, how long have you been mar- 
 ried ?' 
 
 ' Vol, dis is a ting vat I seldom don't like to talk 
 apout, put ven I toes it seems to pc so long as it 
 never vas." 
 
238 
 
 IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 LITERATURE. 
 
 UoMr; Its RuUr ami its IiistUuti.ms. By John 
 
 Francis Mnsuirc', M.r. Niw York: D. & J. 
 
 Sadlicr & Co.; Boston: AViUinin llickcy, 12S 
 
 Federal Btroet. 
 
 Tho enterprising house of Sadlier & Co., have 
 placed the publie "under great obligations by rc- 
 publisliing here, this cxeellent work. It will be 
 received by tlic Catholic community with feelinfjs 
 of joy, and ought to bo studie^l by every lover of 
 truth of every religious denomination, with that 
 care and attention which it so justly demands. The 
 true character of the Supreme Pontiff is but little 
 known outside his owni States, and the press of 
 Ungland and America have teemed with calumnies 
 upon liim and liis government. In placing these 
 matters in their true light, Mr. Maguire has render- 
 ed an iiwportant service to this most amiable sove- 
 reign, and the cause of just and beuificcnt govern- 
 ment. 
 
 There are many passages which we should much 
 wish to quote, for their beautiful and simple power 
 but the want of the necessary space now debars us 
 from this pleasure. 
 
 Tlie rtception of His Holiness by the King of 
 Naples, is of the most touching nature; the sympa- 
 thies of the surrounding nations so cheerfully ex- 
 tended him in the dark hours of his exile, must 
 have been balm to his honest heart. 
 
 The public have been taught to look upon Home 
 n.'* the worst governed city in the world — the abode 
 of misery and WTCtchcdness. Mr. Maguire dispels 
 this calumny by the narrative of its various pub- 
 lic institutions, and the fatherly care which the 
 Pope, in the midst of his other numberless engage- 
 ments, manages to bestow upon them, and especial- 
 ly upon asylums for the sick and poor, which liis il- 
 lustrious predecessors have built up, and which he 
 nourishes with such holy fidelity. 
 
 We shalfl from time to time, cull some of the 
 beauties of this production for the edification of 
 our readers, yet hope that every one of them will 
 immediately possess the work for themselves. It is 
 got out in excellent style by the publishers. 
 
 TiTE Histohy or InF.LANn, from the earliest Kings 
 of that realm, down to its last chief. By Thom- 
 as Moore, Esq. New York; Edward Dunigan 
 & Brother (James B. Kirkcr,) 371 Broadway. 
 We have received from this highly popular pub- 
 lishing house, the two volumes of this excellent 
 History of Ireland. Tlie work is issued in a style 
 which reflects much credit upon the cnterprisin<» 
 publishers, and will add to their well-earned fame. 
 "\V'e shall take an early opportunity of fully review- 
 ing this History, and in the mean time commend it 
 to the attention of our readers. 
 
 RoMETUixo IX A Xamk. — Burke strongly attack- 
 ed Lord North. Entering into a comparison be- 
 tween the relative splendor and expenses in the 
 reigns of William III. and George II., he argued 
 that, in royal magnificence, both these princes.with 
 less money, made more show than George III. Ue 
 argued that, while the grants so lavishly given were 
 neither hoarded nor seemed to be spent, they were 
 employed in purposes that the Ministers durst not 
 avow. Uonest -Vlderman Sawbridge afterwards 
 expressed plainly what Burke had only significant- 
 ly implied. The revenues of the Civil List, he 
 strongly asserted, had been spent in corruption. 
 Even pensions had been given to Members of Par- 
 liament during the royal pleasure. Loud erics of 
 'Name! Name! Take down his words!" and other 
 indications of disapprobation came from the Slinis- 
 terial benches. Some persons called upon him to 
 repeat his statements. The wortliy jUderman ap- 
 peared quite confounded at the uproar. Burke 
 came to his assistance. The excuses he made were 
 
 gravely ironical, but he could not openly be refus- 
 ed. Tho fashionable term on such occasions, he 
 said, was 'influence.' But the Alderman being i 
 plain citi/en, had not graduated in polite arts so 
 much eifcouraged at the west end of the town, lie 
 had erred through ignorance, and was to be pitied. 
 ^^^ult o refined courtier might call influence, the 
 alderman had, with his gross mode of expression, 
 most in\properly called corruption. — [Life and 
 Times of Edmund Burke. 
 
 ADV£BTISEMSNTS. 
 
 MISCELLANEA. 
 
 ANlicn is a fish like a wall ? When it is Bcaled. 
 
 A father called his son into a crowded stage — 
 'Ben-jam-in!' 
 
 The most effectual way to secure happiness to 
 ourselves is to confer it upon others. 
 
 No woman should paint except she who has lost 
 the power of blushing. 
 
 It was once said of a beautiful woman, that from 
 her childhood she had ever spoken smilingly ; as if 
 the heart spoke joy from the lips, astlicy turned in- 
 to beauty, 
 
 ' My German friend, how long have you been mar- 
 ried?' 
 
 ' Vel, dis is a ting vat I seldom don't like to talk 
 apout, put ven I toes it seems to pe so long as it 
 never vas.' 
 
 A wag was one day speaking of two of his ac- 
 quaintances who had gone West, where the new 
 comers were usually attacked the first season with 
 the ague, and said he — 
 
 ' Neither of those two men will be afflicted.' 
 
 ' Why not ?' inquired a bystander. 
 
 'Because,' was the rejjly, 'one of them is too 
 lazy to shake, and the other won't shake unless he 
 gets pay for it.' 
 
 The learned Prbfessor and Principal of the Acade- 
 my of Saumur, used to spend five hours every 
 morning in his study, but was very punctual at din- 
 ner. One day, on his not appearing precisely at 
 the dinner hour, his wife entered his study, and 
 found him still reading. 
 
 ' I wish,' said the lady, ' that I -was a book.' 
 
 ' ^\Tiy so ?' said the Professor. 
 
 ' Because you would then be constant to me.' 
 
 ' I should have no objection,' rejoined the Pro- 
 fessor, ' provided you were an almanac.' 
 
 ' Why an almanac, my dear J' 
 
 ' Because, I then should have a new one every 
 year.' 
 
 Some time ago, on the Sabbath day, we wended 
 our way to one of our churches, and, instead of a 
 sermon, heard an address upon some missionary or 
 other benevolent subject. After the address was 
 concluded, two brethren were sent round with a 
 
 basket for contributions. Parson L , whq was 
 
 one of the Jaasket-bearers, taking the side upon 
 which we sat. Immediately in our front and upon 
 the next seat, negligently reclined our friend, Bill 
 
 n , a gentleman of infinate humor, and full of 
 
 dry jokes. Parson L extended the basket, 
 
 and Bill slowly shook liis head. * 
 
 ' Come, William, give us something,' said the 
 Parson. 
 
 ' Can't do it,' replied Bill. 
 
 ' Why not ; is not the cause a good one ?' 
 
 • Y'cs, but I am not able to give anything.' 
 
 ' Poh ! poh ! I know better j you must give me a 
 better reason than that.' 
 
 'Well, I owe too much money; I must be just 
 before I am generous, you know.' 
 
 'But William, you owe God a larger debt than 
 you owe anybody else.' 
 
 'That's true Parson, but then he aint pushing me 
 like the balance of my creditors!" 
 
 The Parson's face got into rather a curious con- 
 dition, and he passed on. 
 
 SUBSCKIBE! SUBSCKIBE! SUBSCIUBE! 
 
 THE IRISH MISCEILAWY 
 
 PICTURE CALLERY. 
 
 iKDOciaiKNTS TO Nkw SongciuBiais. 
 
 On Snliirday, tlie 3d of July next, wo nlmll present to 
 each ^ujji'criber to the Irisb rictoriitl Miscdluuy, a splendid 
 l^ithoffrnphic Ku^^raving, repreffenting the gluriouD hceue, 
 which oecnrred Bhortly bcfure the capture of Limerick, 
 wlieii <>cnerai 8arslieln, wtio ooniinanUed the Irinh horse, 
 huvin/; learned that a lar|{C Kiipply of heavy ^ei|{e KunN was 
 on Ihewayfotbc caniji of the I'rlnce of Orange, resolved 
 tocuplure them. C'rotsinK over the country by a dilllcult 
 and circuitoutt runt, so us to iulercept the cun\ oy, he catuG 
 up in front of it at ivillununnuMiu, attacked Wiliianra 
 troops, defeated them and compelled them to retreat bcfuro 
 the frish horse, leaving their artillery iu the hands of Sar«- 
 llclO. 
 
 Having to rejoin the garrison at Limerick, .Sarslield knew 
 it would be impossible to carry with him the heavy Kng- 
 liHh guni^ through the niouiitaiti passes, and determined to 
 destrov them. II,' .,id,r,-,l llirm to lie charged lo their ut- 
 most cnpaeitv. uikI iiiilieiiili'cl ikeplv in the earth, with the 
 whole of the ba;;L'aL'e train, which also fell into his hands. 
 A train being laid, tlie sjmrk was iijiiilied and in a few sec- 
 onds the seigo artillery of William was shatleied into innu- 
 merable fragments This gallant leal astonished the ICng- 
 lisli troops, gave new courage to the Irish, and added to 
 the great popularity of the gallant .Sarslield. The explo- 
 sion shook the earth for miles around, and w-aa heard ut au 
 immense distance. 
 
 It is at the moment of the explosion of the English ar- 
 tillery which our artist has sie2ed upon for the subject of 
 
 This memorable event vviU be faithfully and accurately 
 portrayed. It has not Iiitherlo. giveu itis'piratiou, as far as 
 we can learn to any of our Irish artists, and shall now kavo 
 aiiible justice done it. It will make a beautiful picture. 
 We shall present it to our readers on a sheet of line draw 
 ing paper, separate from the Miscellany, suitable for 
 framing. 
 
 It win at once be seen that wc cannot do this without a 
 greatoutlay of capital. We e.xpecl to be reimbursed by a 
 very large addition to our subscription list, as no jierson 
 will be entitled to it who has not paid ou or belbre the 3d 
 of July next one years' subscription in advance, dating 
 from our lirst number. 
 
 Kon subscribers will be supplied at 31,50 for each plate. 
 
 We are resohed that our subscribers sliall possess a 'pic- 
 ture gallery' worthy of the events we propose to commem- 
 orate. This will be the first of a series ol kational rie- 
 TUREswe propose presenting gratis to our regular subscrib- 
 ers the second picture of the series will be ready early in 
 Octoberj the subject of which is not yet decided on. We 
 should Icel obliged to any of our friends who possess old 
 pictnres of remarkable events in Irish history, or portraits 
 of distingtiished Irishmen, to forward them to us. They 
 shall be taken good care of. and returned. 
 
 Let our friends see to their subscriptions in^season. Our 
 Picture Gallery will be tit to adorn the walls of any gentle* 
 man's house iu the country, and will, we liojie, eventually 
 supersede the wretched d&ubs which are often met with. 
 
 Our arrangements for the first picture are almost com- 
 pleted. It will be absolutely necessary that we should 
 know immediately the number of plates we shall want. 
 jjCt our subscribers therefore, send iu their subscriptions 
 without delay, and be careful to give us their correct ad- 
 dress. We shall not strike off any more copies than are 
 ordered belore the above date. 
 
 Will our friends of the press please notice tin.'' new fea- 
 ture in our publication, and we will take care that their 
 sanctums are adorned with choice copies of tliis uatioual 
 picture. 
 
 FINE READY MADE CLOTHING 
 
 CV ST OM TAILORING. 
 
 SI-RING OVERCOATS, 
 
 BUSIKE.SS COATS, 
 
 FROCK AND DRESS COATS, 
 
 I'ANTS AND VESTS, 
 Good, Sttlish, Weli. Made Gaiimknts, 
 Such as men of taste and good judgment will wear, can at 
 all times be found at our store. 
 Our aim is to produce for our customers the best Ready 
 Slade Garments at the luwji»t pos«mile pbices rou 
 CASH. 
 
 Readers of this Journal are earnestly solicited to exam- 
 ine our goods before purchasing. 
 
 J. A. SHITU & CO., 
 
 Dock Square, oobner Elu SfitRrr. 
 myll tf 
 
 4 
 
 JOHN mTCUEL'S LETTERS 
 
 ON thoattempted Revolution in Ireland in 1848, and the 
 causes which led thereto, are republished exclusively 
 in the 
 
 IRISH AMERICAN. 
 
 Publication Office, No. 32 Beekman street. New York. For 
 Bolc by all news dealei-s. Price three cents per copy. Sub- 
 scription Sl,ijO per annum. 4wmy22 
 
 WILLIAM D. PARK, 
 
 SHADES HOTEL, 
 
 iV . 2 M O R T O y PLACE, 
 
 noeiOK. 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 ADVEBTISEM.EWTS. 
 
 GENKllAL TICICET Ori'ICE 
 
 — FOK THE— 
 
 SOUTHERNANO WESTERN STATES, 
 
 AND 
 
 THE CANADAS, 
 Ko. 2 Albany Stkkkt, Uoston. 
 
 KDWAUD KYAN, Agent. 
 
 N. B. — Passflffo to and ft-om Liverpool, and Bills of Ex- 
 change on taighmd, Ireluiui a!id ticotluud. 
 
 mi24 ly 
 
 SOUTH END CATHOLIC BOOK STORE, 
 
 And Depot for the Sale of the 
 
 METROPOLITAN AyD YOUTHS' ilAGAZlNES. 
 
 WILLIAM KEATING, AOKKT, 
 
 8 1-2 Ilarrison Avenue, or at his Kew Periodical Store, 176 
 
 Harrison Avenue, Boston, Mass., 
 
 "WTiere a great variety of the most popular Books and 
 
 Papers cam be had at the very lowest prices, 
 
 WILL supply Clubs, Agents, Canvassers, &o.. on the 
 same terms as the Publishers. The following are 
 the terms— 5 copies will be sent by mail, to oue address, tor 
 oueyear;55| 6 oopies for SIO; 13 copies for $20 j 20 copies 
 for S80. 
 
 1D=- On the receipt of S3, three copies of the Catholic 
 Youth's Magazine and oue copy of the Metropolitan will 
 be mailed regularly for one year. 
 
 ^Tr" A lew sets of the Magazines from the beginning, can 
 be had of the Agent. Also, ail new books furnished as 
 soon as published. ap24: 3mos 
 
 & CO Coruhill, occupied by the late Arm, and holds himself 
 in readiness to supply all orders with which he may be fa- 
 vored. 
 
 Ye Antique Booke Store still tlourisheth, 
 
 Asytte dide in days of yore; 
 
 And ye Bur^'ilam still catereth 
 
 For ye lovers of ancient lore. 
 
 al7 3t 
 
 SAJIUEL MASTTRY. 
 
 PHOTOGRAPH AND DAGUEROEOTYPE 
 
 ARTIST. 
 
 289 Washington Stkeet, 
 
 (Up one ilight of stairs) 
 
 Boston. 
 Photographs taken of every size and finished in Oil, Wa- 
 ter, India Ink and Pastel Colors. Daguerreotypes taken in 
 tlie most superior manner. myl 
 
 THE IRISH VINDICATOR, 
 
 A WEEKLY NEWSPAPER, 
 
 The Best and Cheapest Published in Ameeioa. 
 
 MOST WONDERFUL SUCCESS, 
 
 and has been pronounced by the Press and the I'ublic to be 
 
 superior to any other Irish Weekly in the United States. 
 
 It contains each week, the very 
 Latest News feom every County in Ireland ; 
 Original and entertaining 
 STORIES AND ANECDOTES, 
 and a variety of Mi.scellaneous Reading matter, of a charac- 
 ter which cannot fail to elevate aiitl chasten the intel- 
 lectual appetite. The Irish Vindicator is devoted 
 
 TO THE INTERESTS OF IIUSH3IEN IN AMERICA, 
 and is so cheap as to be within the reach of the poorest. 
 
 ONLY THREE CENTS A COPY. 
 
 THE FOLLOWINC* ARK TUE TEEMS 
 
 To any part of the United States, for one year, Si 
 
 IJo. do. ido. ■ for 8 months. 
 
 Do, do. do. for 4 monihe, 
 
 Do. do. do. for 1 month. 
 
 To any part of Canada or the Itrilish Provinces, one 
 
 S2,OO^A11 payments in advance. 
 
 POR ADVERTISING, 
 
 12 lines, single insertion ¥1.1)0 I 12 lines, 1 month, 
 12 do. 3 mouths, 5.5U | 12 do. 1 year. 
 
 Published every week, at the Office, No 10 Spruce 
 New York, by llie Proprietor. 
 
 EUWAltD DOVVNES CONNERY & 
 
 New York, march 27 
 
 1.00 
 0.50 
 0.12 
 year. 
 
 NORTHERN HOUSE, 
 
 KOKTIl SQUAUK— BOSTON. 
 
 JOHN GLANCY PBOrBiETOB. 
 
 This Honse has rooms equal to any first class Hotel, and 
 permanent or transient Boarders can be accommodated 
 nearly one hnlf cheaper than at any other House in the 
 City. 
 
 In the Reading Rtiom can be found atl the morning and 
 ng paiiers, and juriodicals of tile day, to; 
 
 an exten: 
 the Boa I 
 N. B. SI 
 
 Uoueo a Home. 
 
 c LiERARY, for the fi-ee and exclusive use of 
 
 I>EUfl. 
 
 gers visiting Boston, can always find tliis 
 
 AMUSEMENTS. 
 
 BOSTON THEATltE. 
 Thomas Bakrt, Lessee and Manager. 
 
 ^^tooors open at 7; Performance commences at 7 1-2 o'clock 
 
 Prices of admission— Private Boxes SO; Parqiiette, l!al- 
 
 cony and 1st Tier 50 cts; Family Ciicle 25 ctsj Amphithea- 
 
 BOSTON MUSEUM. 
 W. U. Smith, ' Stage Slanager. 
 
 Open for the production of Tragidies, Comedies, Spec- 
 tacles, Farces, &c. 
 Exhibition Hall opens at 1-2; commences at 7 1-2. 
 Admission 25 cents; Iteserved Scats 50 cunts. 
 
 HOWARD ATHENAEUM. 
 
 Jacob Barrow, Lessee and Manager. 
 
 Henry Wallack, Stage Manager. 
 
 The Grand Combination every night 
 Doors open at 7; Performance commences at 7 1-2. 
 Dress Boxes 75 cts ; Circle boxes 50 cts; Parquefte 50 Cts: 
 Orchestra 75 cts; Upper Boxes 25 cts; Gallery 13 cts. 
 
 GILMORE'S SALEM QUADRILLE BAND. E. UP- 
 TON, Jr., Prompter. Apply to 1'. S. UilmorEj Es- 
 sex House, Salem, Mass. 3r 
 
 fetis' 
 
 WILLIAM K. O'BRIEN, 
 
 77 THIRD AVENUE, N E IV YORK. 
 
 — Manufacturer of— 
 LOOKING-GLASS, PORTRAIT 
 
 PICTURE PBAMES, 
 
 Wholesale and Relail. 
 
 Oil Paintings and Engravings framed and varnished. 
 
 Orders promptly executed, packed and shipped to any part 
 
 my23 of the country. 3ni* 
 
 BS. TREAKOR, ATrORNEY and COUNSELLOR 
 • AT LAW, 15 Massachusetts Block, Court Square, 
 Boston. 
 
 [CT'I'articular attention paid to Conveyancing, and the 
 examination of titles of Real Estate. feblS 
 
 PASSENGER CERTIFICATES. 
 
 TO OLD COUNTRYMEN. Owen Mo NAsrARA has 
 Passage Certificates and Drafts always on hand and 
 for sale. As he does business for that most rei^pectable 
 house, (Williams & Guion) in New York. Old Countrymen 
 desiring to send for their friends, or remit money, would 
 do well to give him a call at No. 4 GoitHAM St.. opposite 
 Summer St., Lowell, Mass. ' ap2tf 
 
 'k.^fm 
 
 DO'ROURKE, respectfully informs his triends and the 
 . public, that he keeps constantly on hand COFFINS 
 of all sizes and kinds, at his Collin Manufactory, No. 317 
 Federal, between Beach and Kiieelaiid Streets, Boston, 
 which he will sell as reasonable as can bo bpughtat any oth- 
 er place ill the city. 
 
 S. B.— Orders punctually attended to, day or night. 
 
 Residence, Kii. 2B .Siiulli street, Bostiin. 
 
 tC^'Crave-Clothes furnished to order at short notice. 
 
 tebl3 
 
 THE SOUTHERN CITIZEN, 
 
 IS published weekly at Knoxville, Tennessee, by JOHN 
 MncHl'.I.L & WM. C. SWAN, at Sf2 per annum, or 
 81 for SIX inonlhs, payable invariably in advance. 
 
 Mr. Mitchell having conmieneed in the 2Bth number of 
 the paper, a series of Letters addressed to the Hon. Alex- 
 ander 11. Stephens of tieorgia, which when completed will' 
 l\irnish an entire history ol 
 
 THE IRISH TROUBLES OF 1848, 
 With their Causes and Consequences, 
 The Southern Citizen will be the more interesting to both 
 Auieiican and Irish readers. Besides these contriljulioiis 
 from Mr. Mitchel. the Southern Citizen will coi-.timi.' to 
 have its usual uuantity of original matter upon politiciil 
 and literary subjects prepared by him. The circulation, 
 tlioiigli hu^c luiil constantly Increasing, the proprietors 
 huvi- liuxight will bo much more extended by an annouuce- 
 imnl in tin- n,.m. 
 
 Ccinuiuiuii'alious with remittances may- be nddresedto 
 Mitcliel !lc .Swan, Kuo.xvillo, Tennessee, or to any of the 
 following Agents: 
 
 S O Courlenuy & Co, Clmrle.ston, S C; Thomas B O'Con- 
 nor, Savannah, Ca; J C Morgan, New Orleans, La; .las A 
 (Jentrv, (lichmondj Va; Alexander Adamson, Washington 
 citv; Tallinage.tTuuner. Cincinnati, (>; PM llavertv. 110 
 Fulton .street. N Y ; S II Coet/el. .•« Daiinhin .direct. Mobile 
 Ala; liiiij 1! Davis, .MiiMiiiic Building, Monlgouierv, Ala; 
 i;o.iB & I'oucey. 121 Nns^iin street, N I , supply dealers only 
 upon reasonable terms; James McGinn, 121 Kearney street 
 San Francisco. 
 
 «, • Clubs of ten will be supplied with the paper for 515. 
 
 PROSPECTUS. 
 
 IRISH MISCELLANY. Prospectus. On Saturday the 
 WlU day of l.bniury IS.'itt, was publf-hid the lirst 
 mumberu anew weekly i.rri.id.cul, wilh the above title, 
 ledicated to the diHu.^i,,,, ul a .uore intimate knowledge ol 
 the literary and nolilical hi.slury of Ireland, and tS the 
 menial, moral and political elevuUou of the Celtic race oa 
 
 'l'he"yrisA Miscellany-'-' will contain 10 pages of closely 
 printed matter, on hue paper, of a size simifiir to this pros- 
 pectus. 1 nee 4 cents a copy, payable on delivery ; or S2 a 
 year to mail subscribers — invariably in lulvunee 
 
 In asking for public Bujiport lor Uie Ji-isk MiicellcmyAt ia 
 proper to say, that it is not our intention to trespass upon 
 the ground already occupied by any of our colemporaries. 
 We have marked out tor ourselves a course entirely new and 
 original— one not occupied by any other publication in this 
 countrv. U e propose to cultivate a lield which, althoucU 
 naturally rich and Ifcrtile, and capable of iirodncini; the 
 choicest flowers and fruits of literature, has" hitherto lain 
 comparatively barren and unproductive. Into this Held we 
 shall enter with a full coutideuce of its capabilities, but with 
 a modest diffidence of the skill which we shall brine to its 
 culture. 
 
 It has long been a reproach' to our race here, that while 
 the publications of the day, with but few exceptions, teem 
 with vile carricatures of us and of our country— while we 
 are continually held uj) to public gaze as everything that is 
 foolish, absurb and vicious— but little eflbrt is made to place 
 thetrufcoharacter of our people before the public eye, or 
 vindicate our name and race from the calumnies with which 
 English hate everywhere pursues us. 
 
 To correct, in some measure, this crying evil, it was at 
 first intended to gather together a number of Irishmen dis- 
 tinguished in the walks of literature, and publish monthly 
 a review, which, for sterling talent, should be second to 
 none published here or in Euorpe. The great expense conj 
 sequent upon an undertaking pf this magnitude, deterred ue 
 from the attempt, compelled us to relinquish our design, 
 and to substitute instead thereof, our more unpretendiiiz 
 " MisceUanf.» * 
 
 We propose to re-produce in our weekly periodical the 
 writings of many of the great minds who have gone before 
 us, while we shall also cull from the current Irish literatuer 
 of the day, such productions of merit as cannot fail to be 
 vucceptible to our readers. Our country is rich in legendry 
 lore, and the legends of 1he old land, while they amuse, 
 serve to instruct and to elevate. 
 
 We shall therefore publish such instructive tales and le- 
 gends ot a high moral tone, that will remind us of the hap- 
 py times when we — 
 
 'Sat by the fire of a cold winter's night. 
 Along with our friends telling tales of delight.' 
 
 We shall give faithful descriptions and illustrations of 
 Irish antiquities— oi our ruined monasteries, our plundered 
 abbeys and churches; and our pictorial illustrations of Irish 
 scenery and antiquities will present to loving minds many 
 lamiliar scenes of early childhood. We have secured the 
 services of talented artists, and each number oT the Miscel- 
 lany will contain numerous illustrations executed in the 
 best style of art. 
 
 We shall keep constantly before our readers the ancient 
 glory of our country, and while we ponder with pride upon 
 the moral and intellectual superiority of Ireland, when 
 England and the rest of Europe was sunk in ignorance and 
 barbarism; we shall point to the past as an incentive to the 
 future. 
 
 The biographies of distinguished Irishmen will be an im- 
 portant feature in the Irish Miscellany, as we shall give 
 biographical notices of Irishmen distinguished in every 
 department of literature, science and art— of men distin- 
 guished on the sea and on laud: in the church the senate, 
 and at the bar. 
 
 It lb our intention to republish the works of Irish ivritera 
 now out of punt in such a manner that they may be pre- 
 str\cd to lutuie time as a memeuto of the old land, aid- 
 er e t iniilcnlite in the minds of the rising generatiro, 
 ahlulr „aid lor tl eland of their lathers. 
 
 ■\\ c pi jc L commencing with the Dublin Penny Journal, 
 a w rk w I ich in its day enjoyed unbounded popularity. 
 We lull dc\ote one half of the JUisc<//aay to each number 
 ot that 1 ational publication. To do this we have ordered s 
 lout of tipe in lush characters, so that the poems printed 
 in that Journal m the Irish language can be reprinted in 
 Irish characters with English translation in ours. This 
 department of the HVscellany will be in the hands of an Irish 
 gentleman every way competent to the task. 
 
 The remaining eight pages of the Misullany will be devo- 
 ted to the current news ol the day,to original articles, tales, 
 essays, poetry, &c. In politics we shall eudeavor to avoid 
 those questions which have divided our conutrymen, or 
 discuss them in a manner void of otTence. 
 
 'I'he Irisli Misntlanij -Kill be thoroughly independent of all 
 political parties — the slave of none- Such questions as af- 
 fect our countrymen here, we shall discuss with freedom, 
 and zealously labor for their moral, intellectual and politi- 
 cal elevation. 
 
 The eilitorial labors will be divided among several gentle- 
 men of ability, and we trust to make the AlUertlany a wel- 
 come guest at the fireside of every family. Willi tlie.se re- 
 marks we commend onr sheet to'thc siijiport of every well 
 wisher of our nice. We feel there is room for such a pub- 
 lication and promise that nothing shall be wantmg on our 
 part to make it worthy orpiibljc support. 
 
 M. J. WALSH & to., Puni.ipnERS, 
 No. 4 ^^".^Tl•;n Stueet, Boston, Mass, 
 
 0~A1I Communicntious to the Editors of the Miscel- 
 lany must be addiessed— 'Cure ol M. J. AValsh Si, Co., 
 I'ublishers, Boston, .Mass.' 
 
 KEI.IA & CUNNINCIIA.M, BILL I'OSTKKS and Dis- 
 iributors. No. 2 Williams Court. Boston, J'roprictors 
 of all the Bill Boauiw in the Citv, resinclltillv an- 
 lumnee to the business community of Boston ;iuil N. York, 
 that they have greatly increased their facilities for Posting 
 and Uistribnliiig Bills, such as Theatre, Concert, Lecture, 
 Auction, Steamboat, Circus. &c. fitc. 
 
 Owing to the great increase in Ifaeir business, they have 
 been obliged to*add horses and wagons to their beretoi'ore 
 ample accommodations, to which they give their personal 
 attention. 
 
 •."'fhankftil for past favors they would respectfully so- 
 licit a continuance of public pntronage. 
 
 KELLY & CUNNINGHAM, 2 Williams Court, 
 
 feblS BosTotf. 
 
 TA'TlLIAMS & CO., Wholesale Agents, ftir the Irise 
 , MiscELLAHy. The Tiade supplierl with Book.s, Pe- 
 riodicals and Newspapers. Special Agents for liariier & 
 
ij jS ' ^^ ^ -^ '^W V ^ < ■»»» t ■ > ^ i <*<< 
 
 ^clcctci) rrprcssln for i|c |ri$I] Pistdlanj); 
 
 ASlAiaE® FQ)1 TBI FI-A1®«F@1TS 
 
 
 
 Slic milkfiil the tlun cow that ne'er olTorod to stir, 
 Thoii>;h wicked it was, it was gentle to her ; 
 So kiud was uiy Kathleen, my poor little Kathleen, 
 My Kathleen O' Moore. 
 4. 
 She sat hy the door one cold afternoon. 
 To hear the wind hlow and to look at the moon ; 
 So pensive was Kathleen, my p)or little Kathleen, 
 
 My Kathleen O' Moore. 
 
 cold was the night hreeze that sif;h'd round licr bnwer. 
 It chilj'd nij' poor Kathleen, she droop'd from that hour, 
 And 1 lust my poor Katlileen, my dear little Kathleen, 
 My Katidccn 0' Moore. 
 6. 
 The b1r<l of nil birds that I lovo the host, 
 Is the nihin that in the church yard liuilds its nest. 
 For he seems to watch Kathleen, hop^ li;;htly on Kathleen, 
 My Kathleen 0' Moore. 
 
VOLUME I— NUMBER 16. ] 
 
 BOSTON, SATURDAY, MAY 29, 1858. 
 
 [ PRICE FOUR CENTS. 
 
 ANTRIM ROUND TOWER. 
 
 On a spacious plain about half a mile from tlie town 
 of Antrim, stands one of those round pillar-towers, the 
 date of erection and primitive use of which continue to 
 attract alike the attention of the curious, and the dis- 
 sertations of the learned. This tower is ninety-five 
 feet in height, and at one yard from the ground is 
 fifty-three feet in circumference. It is divided into 
 thiee stories, with holes in the wall for joists to sup- 
 port lofts, and loopholes for the admission of air and 
 lio-ht. Those near the top correspond with the four 
 
 cardinal points, and near them a beam of oak extends 
 across the tower, evidently for the purpose of support- 
 ing a bell. A little above these the tower tapers in 
 the form of a sugar-loaf, and was formerly surmounted 
 by a conical covering of granite, resembling in shape a 
 cap or bonnet. Being shattered, as it is supposed by 
 lightning, in 1822, it was taken down, and replaced by 
 a covering of freestone. 
 
 At the base are two rows of stones projecting about 
 eight inches, and nine feet above these is the door, 
 fronting the north ; it is four feet three inches in height' 
 
 by two feet wide ; the wall at the sill is two feet nine 
 inches in thickness. The outside lintel of the door 
 consists of one large stone, as does that inside ; and . 
 between those is a beam of oak across the door, which 
 must have been placed there at the erection of the tow- 
 er, as it appears impossible to have been iixed there 
 since. On a large stone over the outside lintel, is a 
 cross in has relief, which clearly indicates that our pil- 
 lar-towers were erected since the Christian erti, and that 
 their having been watch-towers, or fire-temples, are the 
 whimsies of disordered minds, or the wild theories of 
 
 I 
 
 THE ANTRIM ROUND T0"S\T2R. 
 
242 
 
 IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 those who, solely from singularity, nffcct superior I 
 knowlctl)^'. I 
 
 Ciiinilfu informs us, timt St. Durtmct, a iliscipio of j 
 St. Putiiik, foumloJ a moimstery nt Antrim. A ftw 
 years ago, in removing .<omo old liousi's in ttiu vicinity 
 of the tower, extensive fuumlalions ami many human i 
 lioues were tliscovercil, which would lead us to con- 
 rhule this to have been the site of the Abliey mentioned , 
 by Camden. This is the more likely, as our towers I 
 always stand near some ancient place of worship ; the 
 writer is not nwaro of a single instance uf their beinj; 
 fiiund apart from some religious I'uundaiiun, and in a 
 few instances they are even ingrafted on those build- 
 ings. Tradition ascribes the erection of this Tower, as 
 well as others in iho north of Ireland, to the celebrated 
 architect called tho ' Gobban Saer,' or ' Gobban the 
 IJuilder,' and who is believed, in this part of the coun- 
 try, to have been a woman. It would be highly inter- 
 esting to ascertain if there be any historical evidences 
 of the celebrated person, whose name is thus popularly 
 ciiuncctcd with tho erection of so many of these re- 
 markable structures. A tradition so general could 
 hardly be without foundation : and, If wo could deter- 
 mine the period in which ' the Gobban ' nourished, wc 
 should have much light thrown on this hitherto mys- 
 terious subject. 
 
 It is not a little strange that wo should still be 
 without a correct list of these towers, so that even their 
 numbers have not been ascertained. About 1791, a 
 list was published by the Kcv. Edward Lcdwich, which 
 is, however, very imperfect. In the County of Antrim 
 he only notices the tower just described, and that on 
 Ham Island ; those of Ardmoy andTrumery are omit- 
 ted. At I)un-a-man, near Croom, County Limerick, 
 and Uosenallis, Queen's County, arc also round pillar- 
 towers, which are not given in his catalogue. 
 
 S. M'S. 
 
 [Note. — Wo have hitherto refrained from offering 
 any opinion of our own on tho long unsettled question 
 of the origin and uses of our Round Towers, lest we 
 night be suspected of a desire to inlluence the Royal 
 Irish Academy in their decision on tlie merits of the 
 prize essays submitted to them on this national sub- 
 ject of antiquarian inquiry. As that decision has been 
 finally made, wc have no longer a motive for main- 
 taining silence, and avail ourselves of tho opportunity 
 afforded us by tho foregoing notice of our ingenious 
 correspondent, Mr. M'Skiniin, to state that our con- 
 clusions arc those arrived at in the essay which re- 
 ceived not only the prize proposed by the Academy, 
 but also the additional honor of their gold medal. 
 These conclusions are, that the Round Towers are 
 wholly of Christian origin, and erected for the towfold 
 purpose of belfries and towers, in which the religious 
 communities to whom they belonged deposited their 
 books, sacred vessels, &c5, and into which they them- 
 selves retired on occasions of sudden predatory attack. 
 As Mr. Pctrie's essay is now in course of publication, 
 we do not consider it fair to anticipate his proofs, 
 which, we have no doubt, will be found satisfactory, 
 and worthy of the award given by tho Academy — an 
 award, which, it should be borne in mind, it was only 
 entitled to on proofs that were deemed conclusive on 
 the subject. That award, too, it should be observed, 
 ■was all but unanimous; for, though one gentleman 
 dissente<l, who considered as more satisfactory the evi- 
 dences which were offered in Mr. O'Brien's esiay, to 
 prove that the towtrs were temples and emblems of the 
 god Budh, and erected previous to the foundation of 
 Solomon's Temple, (! !) it may be questioned how far 
 that gentleman was a perfectly disinterested judge, in 
 as much as ho had previously written and published 
 his own theories sn the subject, the evidences for which 
 were analyzed and rejected in Mr. Petrie's essay, and 
 lauded to the sun in various passages in that of his 
 competitor. The Royal Irish Academy, in having 
 taken the most judicious steps for bringing this long- 
 contested subject of antiquarian inquiry to a satisfac- 
 tory termination, arc entitled to the most unqualified 
 praise. 
 To Mr. M'Skimia's ncconnt of the Round Tower of 
 
 Antrim, we have to add, that its reputed architect, 
 Goban, of whom we have given several traditional no- 
 tices, and have many still to give, was e<|ually cele- 
 brated in our ancient ecclesiastical histories, as in our 
 popular traditions. Tho historical notices relative to 
 him have been collected into Mr. Petrie's essay, from 
 which we learn that he flourished early in the sixth 
 century, and was the most famous arlilicer in Ireland 
 for his skill in building both of wood and stone. In 
 the ancient life of St. Abbhan, given in Colgan, it is 
 prophetically said that his fame in arts shall exist in 
 our island to the end of time. 
 
 'Quidum tamossissimus in omni arte lignorum et 
 lapidum erat in Ilibcrnia nomine Gobbanus cujus ar- 
 tis fama usque in linem sa-ccli erit in ea. — (Acta SS. 
 p. 619.] 
 
 ANNALS OF DUBLIN. 
 
 Translated from the Autograph of the Four Masters 
 in the Library of the lloyal Irish Acaden>y. 
 [Concluded.] 
 1.53G. Many virulent diseases raged this year, viz. 
 a universal plague, galar breae,* dyscntary, and 
 fever, which swept away a large portion of man- 
 kind. 
 
 1.537. S. Patrick's crozicr, which was held in the 
 highest veneration from S. Patrick's time, was burn- 
 ed this year in Dublin. f 
 
 1.543. O'Donnell (Magnus) attended the Great 
 Council in Dublin, together with his brothers Eg- 
 nechan and Donogli — they were taken and cast in 
 prison and in chains, where they remained for a long 
 time. They were afterwards set at liberty by ad- 
 vice of the Lord Chief Justice and the chiefs of Ire- 
 land, and peace and friendship made between them. 
 1.545. A part of Christ's Church, in Dublin, was 
 thrown down, and a stone coffin was discovered, 
 in which was found the body of a bishop in episco- 
 pal dress, with ten gold rings, on his ten fingers, 
 and a golden chalice standing by the side of his neck ; 
 the body when removed from the coffin was found 
 perfect and sound, and it did not fall asunder when 
 removed from its place ; it was placed in a standing 
 position supported by the altar, and left there for 
 some time. No part of his dress faded or decayed, 
 which was a great sign of sanctity. 
 
 1546. Mac-GioUa-Phatraic (Fitzpatrick) (Brian) 
 made a prisoner of his own Tcige, who was a select 
 leader,! and sent him to Dublin with his crimes 
 written along with him, and the English put him to 
 death by order of his father. 
 
 New coin was introduced into Ireland this year, 
 i. e. copper ; and the Irish were compelled to use it 
 instead of silver. 
 
 The rebels wore defeated at Bailo na d-tri g-Cais- 
 len, (town of the three castles) by the English and 
 by Brian an Chogaidh, the son of Terrence O'Toole ; 
 the sons of James, the son of the Earl of Kildarc 
 viz. Maurice and Henry, were taken prisoners, to- 
 gether with twenty-four of their people, who were 
 afterwards brought to Dublin, and all cut in quar- 
 ters, except Maurice, who was confined in tht 
 King's castle until it should be determined what 
 death he should receive. These rebels were thus cut 
 off, and although their power was of short continu- 
 ance, yet they did great mischief. 
 
 • Galar brcac, literally the speckled or spotted tliscase. 
 In Counauglit it nicuiis the small pox, but iu the south of 
 Ireland it »ijnu'ie8 the ppolted fever. 
 
 The disease is cnilcd variole In Latin, from the word vari- 
 um which signiacs various, for it assumes various colors, 
 such as white, reddish, yellow, black and (jreen, and Gilbcr- 
 tinus says that the more this disease approaches a black or 
 green color, the more dangerous it is. 
 
 t Colgan gives a long account of this staffin Tr. Thaum, 
 p. 2«5. 2iH. .St. Bernard speaks of it in his life of St. Maln- 
 chy, and describes it as covered over with gold, and adorn- 
 ed with the most precious gems. Girnldus Ciiinbiciisis says 
 that iu his time it was removed from Ariiiiij,'li lo Dublin. 
 
 t Kcatinge calls Jlosca the select leader of the Children 
 of Israel. 
 
 1.517. Maurice Anfeadh, {of the wood,) the son of 
 the Earl of Kildarc, was executed in Dublin. 
 
 1.548. O'Melaghlin (Tcige Hoe,) brought Edmond 
 White, (a Faic',) and his Leinster forces, with him 
 into Delvin, to plunder it. Mclughlin, the son of 
 Art O'Melaghlin, was taken prisoner by Edmond 
 White, and sent by him to Dublin. 
 
 Calvach O'CarroU went to Dublin to the Great 
 Court, but he was trcaohcrouely taken prisoner and 
 confined in the King's castle, and none of his friends 
 obtained any information why ht was incarcerated, 
 or how he could be ransomed. 
 
 1 j.50. Anthony St. Leger arrived a second time 
 in Ireland, as Lord Chief Justice, and many of the 
 Irish chieftains repaired to Dubliil to meet him at 
 the Great Court. 
 
 1.5.51. 'I'he Lord Chief Justice marched at the head 
 of an army into Ulster, and dispatched the crew of 
 four ships to the island of Rcachrainn,* to plunder 
 it. James and Colla, the two sons of Mac DonneU 
 of Scotland, were on the island to defend it. A bat- 
 tle ensued, which ended in the total defeat of the 
 English, not one of whom survived the battle ex- 
 cepting the lieutenant who commanded them on this 
 excursion, when the Albanians (Scots) kept as a 
 prisoner until they got in his stead their own brother, 
 Sorlcy Boy M'Donnell, who had been imprisoned 
 in Dublin a year before that time, besides other ran- 
 soms. 
 
 A great Court was held in Dublin, upon the re- 
 turn of the Lord Chief Justice from England. 
 O'Neill, (Con, the son of Con,) Earl of Tironc, was 
 taken prisoner through the intrigues and complaints 
 of Ferdoragh, the Baron, upon which the son of 
 O'Neill waged war with the English and the Baron, 
 to revenge the incarceration of his father. Great 
 evils were done between them. 
 
 1.552. The Lord Chief Justice marched at the head 
 of an army into Ulster, against O'Neill of Clannaboy, 
 and the Scotch. The son of .Savadgc of the Ardes, 
 and a party of the English, went first before them to 
 plunder the country. But they were met by the son 
 of O'Neill at Belfairste.t who made a vigorous at- 
 tack upon them — put them to flight — and killed the 
 son of Savadgc, together with forty, or according to 
 others, sixty of them. Ilowbcit the Lord Chief 
 Justice advanced, and commenced to erect a castle 
 at Belfast ; but they gained no victory, took no 
 spoils or hostages on this occasion, and their pride 
 was very much humbled. 
 
 Ferdoragh O'Neill, the Baron, marched his troops 
 to aid the Lord Chief Justice and the English, but 
 was unable to come up to where they were on that 
 night, but he pitched his camp at no great distance 
 from them. Shane Dongaileaeh O'Neill pursued 
 the Baron, his brother, with another army, made an 
 attack upon his camp that night, and killed great 
 numbers of his people. 
 
 William Brabazon, the King of England's Treas- 
 urer, perished on this expedition. His body was 
 brought in a ship to Dubhn, and his heart was af- 
 terwards sent to the King of England, as a token of 
 his loyalty and truth towards him. 
 
 1562. Teige, the .son of Morogh O'Brien, made 
 his escape from Dublin, where he had been for some 
 time incarcerated. 
 
 1.5G4. O'Donnell (Calbhach) and O'Boyle (Tor- 
 logh) repaired to Dublin to the Lord Chief Justice, 
 to confer with him. On this occasion the Lord 
 Justice treated O'Donnell with great honor and re- 
 spect. 
 
 ■This Island is situated about seven Iri.sh miles olTIhe 
 north coast of Antrim. It is called liuthlin on all the mod- 
 em maps of Irclaud. but prououuced Kngheree by the na- 
 tives. The west end uf the Island is called Ceann liamar 
 or the thick head or promontory, and the south end was 
 nuciently called Ccann Cues or slender head, being a 
 small point of land i)uiiiting to the north coast of Autrim. 
 
 t Now Anglicized ISclfast. lielfeirste signifies the mouth 
 of the ferry or j)ass. 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 243 
 
 1575. Great lient and extreme drought happened 
 in the summer of this year ; it did not rain for one 
 hour from the 1st of May to August. In conse- 
 quence of this drouglrt, loathsome diseases and moat 
 afflicting maladies were generated amongst the in- 
 habitants of England and Ireland, but more especi- 
 ally at Dublin, Naas, Ardee, MulUngar, and Ath- 
 ■faoy. Many a castle was left without a guard — many 
 a flock without a shephard — and many bodies, even 
 of the nobleman, were left un interred. 
 
 Sir Henry Sidney came to Ireland as Lord Chief 
 Justice in the autumn of this year. He landed in 
 Ulster, and found all Ireland one scene of war and 
 intestine commotion. He established peace, friend- 
 ship, and unity, between the Tirconnallians and 
 Tironians, and throughout the province of Ulster. 
 He banished to England the Earl of Essex, who had 
 invaded Ulster, and acted treacherously towards 
 Con O'Donnelland Brian O'Neill. 
 
 Con O'Donnell and Con, the son of Niall Oge 
 O'Neill, who had been imprisoned in Dublin, effect- 
 ed their escape from it about this time ; and Con 
 O'Donnell remained hidden in the wilds and deserts 
 of his country, until the Chief Justice sent him a 
 pardon. The Chief Justice went in the commence- 
 ment of the ensuing winter through Bregia and Meath 
 and from thence to Forthuatha Laighean, (the coun- 
 try of the O'Byrnes and O'Tooles) and he made 
 peace between the English and Irish of East Mun- 
 ster and Meath, and the descendants of Rosfailghe,* 
 and the descendants of Conall Ceamach.f He then 
 successively proceeded south-west to Waterford, 
 Youghall and Cork, about Christmas, and destroy- 
 ed and beheaded a vast number of rebels and had 
 subjects throughout these districts. 
 
 1580. James Oge, son of James, who was son of 
 John, who was son of Thomas the Earl, went upon 
 a predatory incursion into Muskerry ; but Cormac 
 M'Carthy being apprized of his designs, assembled 
 all his troops on a plain to oppose him. M'Carthy 
 being told that James had passed him by, advanced 
 to a sequestered spot by which he thought James 
 would pass. M'Carthy had not been long there be- 
 fore he perceived James coming on with great spoils; 
 ■whereupon he charged the army — slew great num- 
 bers — took James himself prisoner, and sent him to 
 be incarcerated in Cork. Here James remained two 
 months, occupied in preparation for death, perform- 
 ing penance for his sins, and begging forgiveness 
 for his evil deeds ; but at the expiration of that 
 time a writ arrived in Cork from the Lord Chief 
 Justice and the Council of Dublin, ordering the 
 mayor to have him executed and cut in quarters. 
 This was accordingly done. 
 
 J. O'D. 
 
 • Kos Failglic, from whom UiFailghe orOpIialy is nam- 
 ed, was the ancestor of O'Couor Kaly. 
 t The O'Mores of Lagisia, now of Queen's County 
 
 ways good to the tenants an' the poor," said Nancy. 
 
 ' Faix an' ye're not wrong,' replied Mary. 'I 
 know more about im nor ye can, that's only a new 
 comer ; sorra one dhrop of gentle blood in his body, 
 good or bad.' 
 
 ' Musha is it in arnest ye are,' cried Mrs. Brady ; 
 and suspending the evolutions of her spinning-wheel, 
 drew her stool closer to that of the widow, who con- 
 tinued. 
 
 ' Nera word of lie I'm tellin' ye, shure I'm lookin 
 at im since he was the bulk of a sod of turf.' 
 
 ' Well, well,' replied Nancy, ' an' as grand as he 
 
 THE CARVARRY. 
 
 'He rose— and slowly, sternly, thence withdrew, 
 liHge in liis eye, and threat ' 
 
 ' I'll lave it to my death, Nancy, me or mine never 
 done im or one belongin' to im a pinsworth of 
 harum ;' said the Widow Kelly, one day while gos- 
 sipping at the house of Nancy Brady. 
 
 ' Nera bit but its a wondher what makes him be 
 80 much agin ye,' replied Nancy. 
 
 ' The Lord forgive im, an' every body that leans 
 on the widdy and the orphant, Nancy ; but there's 
 one above lookin' at all this,' resumed the widow. 
 
 ' The Mother of (Jod look down on every poor 
 sinner thats in disthress,' said Sirs. Brady, with a 
 glance of secret satisfaction round her well tilled and 
 furnished house. 
 
 ' Och amin, achiemah,' replied the widow, • an' 
 the Lord maintain goodness to every one that has 
 it.' 
 
 'A then, Mary, mysel doesn't think the masther's 
 a real gentleman at all ; the ould sort is ever an' al- 
 
 ' Troth an' it's just so,' resumed the widow. ' His 
 fether was a poor man, an' lived out of the end of 
 the house* wid my fiither, God rest his sowl an' as 
 I hard, for I wasn't very big at the time, Paddy 
 Brian hadn't cow or calf.' 
 
 ' Its lek that's this man's father,' interrupted Mrs. 
 Brady. 
 
 ' Yis dear, j'is, his father shure enough ; an' they 
 say a coire (kind, friendly,) man he was, that strug- 
 gled hard to rear the family.' 
 
 ' An' what way did they get all the riches ?' 
 ' Ner a one of me Icnows ; some says the man here, 
 that's Jemmy we used tocall'm got a purse of money 
 in a fair green ; more says they eatched a lepre- 
 haun;t an' more that its what they got a crock of 
 gould in undher a big stone on the bottom of an 
 ould ditch.' 
 
 ' Any way they have the money,' said Mrs. Brady. 
 
 'Sorra doubt,' replied the widow, 'an' cute 
 
 enough they wer in the beginnin' by gettin' up by 
 
 degress muryagh, (as it were,) until they tuk land, 
 
 an' got cows, an' calves, an' sheep, an' horses.' 
 
 ' wirra what luck some has beyant others,' 
 cried Nancy, with a long drawn sigh ; * but Mary, 
 dear, how did the man here get it all ?' 
 
 ' Ye see a hegar, he was ever and always eute, so 
 afore they let an to have money, he got the brothers 
 an' sisters all marret an' out of the way ; the ould 
 couple died— he left the place, tuk this land an' 
 built the house, an' from plain Jemmy Brian, he's 
 now James O'Brian, Esquire r' 
 
 ' Its lek, Mary, ye're from the same place. 
 ' Sure, dear, didn't I tell ye his father live out of 
 the end of the house wid us.' 
 
 ' I mind ye did ; an' to be shure ye cum wid him 
 to this land.' 
 
 ' No, avoumeen, I mas marret an' livin' here long 
 afore he got it, forreer that iver he cum to it at all.' 
 This man's rise in life had been fully as sudden 
 as described by the Widow Kelly ; how he came by 
 the means was only known to himself, though vari- 
 ous rumors were afloat relative to it. He took 
 leases of large tracts of land, which he again set to 
 others, and became an extensive middle-man, as 
 they term it in Ireland. 
 
 Though an illiterate man, Brian was clever ; and 
 as wealth poured in, ho wished to have his humble 
 origin forgotten, but the residence of Kelly's wife on 
 his land was a bar to that, and like the wicked Ha- 
 man, his wealth and affectation of gentility availed 
 him nothing, so long as Mary Kelly lived near to 
 remind him of what he had been ; It was a canker 
 to all his enjoyment. But though in other respects 
 a clever man, in this instance Mr Brian acted fool- 
 ishly ; instead of conciliating this woman, he took 
 every opportunity of oppressing and irritating her, 
 trying all means to get them off his land but in vain. 
 At Icngtli Kelly died, and the unrelenting landlord 
 resolved to get rid of the widow. His cruelty need 
 not be detailed ; suffice it to say he succeeded in 
 turning the poor woman and her son adrift on the 
 
 • Living out of the end of a house, means that one cabin 
 is joined to the other. 
 
 t A leprchaun is said to be a liliputian figure, with a 
 scarlet coat and red nightcap. If any person could be 
 fortunate enough to lay hold on one of those beings, he 
 would he made rich, for they linve an iutimato kuowledgo 
 of concealed treasure. 
 
 world ; and he chuckled in the idea that all traces 
 of his origin would now be obliterated. 
 
 But the Mighty Being who has said, ' Leave thy 
 fatherless children, I will preserve them alive ; and 
 let thy widows trust in me,' did not forsake this 
 victim of oppression. A farmer in the neighbor- 
 hood, though far from rich, and with a large family, 
 could not look at this act of cruelty, in the depth 
 of winter, unmoved. He gave the widow a cabin 
 with a small garden, and took her son into his em- 
 ployment, and thus defeated O'Brian'splan of send- 
 ing her out of the country. She endeavored to as- 
 sist her son in supporting themselves, by spinning, 
 and buying sheep skins in the season, the wool of 
 which she sold at the different rjiarketsin the neigh- 
 borhood. At this period, Pat, the widow's son, 
 was a lad of seventeen, sober and well conducted 
 esteemed by all who knew him. 
 
 Some short time after the conversation above men- 
 tioned between the widow and Mrs. Brady, the lat- 
 ter lost a grown up son ; and as they were people 
 considered weU to do in the world, crowds came to 
 the wake, knowing that it would be a plentiful one, 
 and they were not disappointed, saying to each 
 other, ' Any way Phil Brady was givin' his little boy 
 a raal dacent wake, and no doubt there'd be a fine 
 funeral.' 
 
 Now Nancy Brady, who sat at the head of the 
 table on which the body of her son was laid out, de- 
 clared to all who addressed her with the unvarying 
 salutation, ' I'm sorry for yer throuble ;' that ' the 
 heart idin her was breaken' out an' out ; and och, 
 och, what did she do to desarve such a crish !' But 
 still Mrs. Brady could cry with the criers, smoke 
 with the smokers, and talk with the talkers. 
 
 As the persons, conduct, and affairs of their neigh- 
 bors, usually form the subject of conversation among 
 the lower orders, and indeed to their shame be it 
 recorded, even of many in the higher classes of life, 
 on the second night ot the wake, one subject that 
 occupied a group of idlers around Mrs. Brady, was 
 Mr. Brian and his family. 
 
 'A then d'ye tell me so. Darby,' said a man, at 
 the same time handing him a pipe ; ' an' they're of 
 that great lord's family; friends no doubt r'— 
 [Friends, as thus used, means relations.] 
 
 ' Sorra word of lie in id, Ned,' replied Darby, ' I 
 hard the masther tellin' id to a gentleman.' 
 
 'What's that ye hard. Darby?' asked Mrs. Brady, 
 who only caught the latter part of what he had 
 said. 
 
 ' The masther tould a gentleman, an' I by,' replied 
 Darby, ' that he's related to the great lord of the 
 same name that lives some place in Munsther.' 
 
 ' Nough more a rubbhul than ig ma chauth,' 
 (what a tail my cat has,) exclaimed Nancy ; ' related 
 to a lord, anagh,' [an expression of doubt and 
 scorn.] 
 
 ' An why nat,' exclaimed another woman, ' some 
 of the lords thcmsels is no great things.' 
 
 ' Great things here or there,' replied Mrs. Brady, 
 ' sorra one dhrop of lord's blood in his body.' 
 
 ' How d'ye know, did ye ever see the color of id?' 
 asked Darby. 
 
 ' No nor yersel, no more nor me, avoumeen,' she 
 answered ; ' an' afther all its truth I'm tellin.' 
 
 ' Maybe ye know, as they know the horses, be 
 the mark of mouth,' returned Darby. 
 
 ' No, dear, nor as ye know the sheep,' she retort- 
 ad : ' an' faix its asy to know the good ould stock, 
 the raal blood, from the upstart.' 
 
 ' Sure, Nancy Brady, ye wouldn't be afther alle- 
 gatin' (alirming) sich a thing of the masther,' said 
 Darby. 
 
 ' What ?' she demanded. 
 ' That he's an upstart.' 
 
 ' Mind it was yersel said id. Darby Dolan,' inter- 
 rupted Mrs. Brady ; then in a lower tone she ad- 
 dressed the woman next her ; ' an may be if it was 
 sed it's no lie.' 
 
244 
 
 IIMSH MISCELLANY. 
 
 ' \\Tiy 80 ?• asked the woman. I ' An B\irc ye cnn do id for n very little, sir,' said 
 
 ' Bckase," replied Niiiuy, and she entered into a Diirliy. 'Cunt ye put her in the l!i»hop's Coort, 
 half whispering detail of tlie eouversation she had I for dilUniation an' lie; 
 
 and at the same time he 
 
 with the AVidow Killy 
 
 l)arl)y, who was ilr. Brian's shepherd, and prc- 
 tinded to he greatly attaehed to him, listened in- 
 tently, and hearing some half sentences, exclaim- 
 ed:— 
 
 ' This is more of Mary Kelly's lies an' stories; 
 may 1 never die in sin but she'll be sorry for id 
 ya.' 
 
 ' What lies •' said ^Irs. Brady. ' A\ ho knows 
 what Mary Kelly tould me :' 
 
 ' Many'a the one'U know id the niglit,' rei)lied 
 Darby ; • but niind_ I tell ye, that gabby lyin' hag'U 
 be sarry, an' may be more wid her." 
 
 ' Christ chriestha er in ! Darby," said Nancy, 
 • sure ye wouldn't go for to tell the masther that 1 
 Bed any thing agin'm. Ouh, och, tiod forbid avour- 
 nccn i an' I didn't thii\k it no harum to tell what 
 Mary Kelly sed on my own liuve.' 
 
 ' .Sed here or sed there,' replied Darby, after hav- 
 ing hoard all and n>ueh more than was advanced by 
 the widow, ' I wondher, Nancy Brady, ye'd sit by 
 an' listen to sieh lies of a man that's givin' ye good 
 bread.' 
 
 A day or two after the wake, the shepherd took 
 the opportunity of his master looking at some sheej), 
 to enter into eonversotion. After the usual com- 
 mendations of the stock, and praises of his own 
 carefulness, he beg.in : — 
 
 ' That was a sore crish tlie Brady's got, sir, God 
 look on them.' 
 
 The master gave an assenting nod, and Darby 
 continued: — 
 
 ' An' maybe they hacbi't a great wake an' a fine 
 funeral, sir, God rest the poor boy's sowl.' 
 ' Had they,' was the concise reply. 
 ' AVell, well, sir, any way but the women's gab- 
 by ; mysel never hard the likc's of them fur lies and 
 stories.' 
 
 ' ANTiat lies and stories. Darby ■' said Mr. O'Brian, 
 seating himself in an attitude that the shepherd well 
 knew was the prelude to a regular gossip ; for though 
 usually keeping his people at a great distance, there 
 ■n-ere times when Mr. O'Brian could lay aside his 
 dignity, and return to his old vulgar habits ; and 
 the servants knew how to lead him to this ; for it is 
 astonishing how quick sighted they in general are 
 to the foibles of their employers. Darby did not 
 reply till his master had repeated the question, then 
 wth a knowing shake of the head, he answered : — 
 ' Faix it'd be onpossible to mind tho half of wliat 
 a body hears, an' God knows there was a power of 
 talk at the wake.' 
 
 O'Brian perceiving the shepherd had something to 
 tell, remarked : — 
 
 ' But sure. Darby, you might remember part of 
 -what you heard ; no doubt the women were tallcing 
 of their neighbors.' 
 
 ' Ye may say that any way, sir ; and may be of 
 them id didn't become them to raintion. Musha 
 what mather to me or the like's of me who a body's 
 related to, or about family at all at all.' 
 
 ' Waa there any person speaking of my family ?' 
 interrupted Mr. O'Brian, for on this point he was 
 very sensitive. 
 
 ' There's no use in talkin, sir , any way, ye may 
 defy the gabbiest in the parish.' 
 
 But O'Brian's curiosity was completely aroused, 
 and he insisted on knowing what was said. 'I'his 
 was just the point the wily shepherd wished to 
 bring him to ; and, with seeming reluctance, he 
 told all, and much more than the AVidow Kelly had 
 said to Nancy Brady, and also that it had been a 
 public subject of conversation at the wake. 
 
 Scarce able to articulate, so much was he over- 
 come with rage and mortiiication, Jlr. O'Brian de- 
 clared that he would give fifty pounds, nay a hun- 
 ched, to have it in lus power to punish Mary Kelly. 
 
 put his tongue on the other side of his cheek. 
 
 To tliis gibeing speech, the master made no reply ; 
 but, on turning away, he reiterated his former 
 declaration that he would do anything to punish 
 the Kellya, and drive tlieni from the country. 
 
 Immediately after this, there was a new subject of 
 conversation in the neighborhood ; two of Mr. 
 O'Brian's fat sheep had been stolen; and Darby, 
 according to his own account, said nothing of it for 
 a time, until he searched the bounds, and made every 
 inquiry, but to no puqjose. It may be imagined 
 the master was greatly exasperated ; he insisted his 
 people should clear themselves. AVith one voice, 
 they all declared they would take the Garvarry* on 
 their innocence. 
 
 'And the Gar\-arry you shall certainly take,' said 
 O'Brian ; ' I'll send for it this day.' 
 
 A young man, who witnessed tho swearing, was 
 thus accosted by his mother on his return : — 
 ' AVell, Jack, ye wor at Mr. Briim's the day.' 
 ' Yes,' replied he ; ' an" a sore place it was. The 
 Garvarry cum in it (was brought there,) and great 
 swearin there was.' 
 
 ' Iklusha, Jack, dear,' said another, ' AA'hat sort of 
 a thing is id at all •' 
 
 ' The very' moral (model) of a walking staff, only 
 longer, an' a crook of brass on the top, widan' ugly 
 smubh (face) on id. O wirra ! if ye seen it !' 
 
 'An' they say,' remarked a third, 'that if a body 
 swears in the wrong wid that about his neck, his 
 faee'U be turned to the back of his head, God bless 
 the mark!' 
 
 'Sorra a word of lie ye heard,' replied Jack. 
 'A-then, did Darby Dolan put in his nickV asked 
 the young man's mother. 
 
 'Sure enough he did,' said Jack. 
 Well, well' she replied, 'but that bates tho little 
 dish! Tlie Lord keep us, anyway.' 
 
 'What makes ye say that?' inquired her son. 
 'Notliin, dear — och, nolliin, avourneen. God forbid 
 I'd say anylliin of e'er a one.' 
 
 'Isn't tliem two fine skins I bought for yc?' says Pat 
 Kelly to his mother, one evening, after returning from 
 work. 
 
 'Ne'er a better, acushla,' she replied; 'there's great 
 work on them; from who did ye buy them?" 
 
 'Sorra one of me knows — I never seen him afore.' 
 'AVcU, the morrow, God willin, I'll go to the mar- 
 ket, an' its little of the wool I'll have back wid me, an 
 then, Pat, a lmshki,t ye can buy new breeches at the 
 fair.' 
 
 'Ne'er a one of me very bad for them, mother; it's 
 yerscl wants a cloak comin on the winthcr. Sorra 
 stitch I'll liuy till ye get it.' 
 
 'Och! the Mother of God reward ye, avourneen, that 
 always tliinks more of the old woman nor yersel. 
 Och! the Lord forgive the man that left the widdy an' 
 the orphant this away.' 
 
 'Never heed, mother; he'll not be a pinsworth bet- 
 ther, nor we worse, the last day, for this.' 
 
 'Och, Pat, alanna ma chru (child of my heart, ^ the 
 Lord lit and prepare us for that day, any way.' 
 
 'God save all here!' said Darby, who entered at the 
 same moment. 
 
 'God save ye kindly,' replied the widow. 'AVont ye 
 cum by the lire. Darby.' 
 
 'Sorra bit of me could, Mary; id's a fine evening, 
 thank God. The woman wants a couple of pound of 
 wool; have ye e'er a grain.' 
 
 'There isn't two betther skins in the counthry nor 
 
 the little boy bought yesterday', and slio brought forth 
 one to show the length of the wool. 
 
 'I'll tell the woman,' said Darby, and left the honso. 
 
 He had not been long gone, when Mr. O'Brian and 
 another man returned with him, dcmaning entrance to 
 search for stolen goods. The poor widow was thnn- 
 dcrstruck, and could scarcely say, 'Cum in; the ncra 
 hapurth ever we stole.' 
 
 'Who says there's anything stoic here!' cried Pat, 
 seizing and brandishing o slick. 'I'll tell them to 
 their teeth, they're liars.' 
 
 'Asy, Pat, alanna — asy, avourneen; don't do any 
 thing rash; let them come in, what do we care, an' 
 nothin they want here!' said tho widow, holding her 
 »on's arm. 
 
 'Come, come, fellow,' cried Mr. O'Brien, 'we have 
 a warrant to enter. Constable, do your duty.' 
 
 The constable entered, and seizing on the sheep- 
 skins, took them to Mr. O'Brien, who, pointing to tho 
 letters, J. O'B., wiili which they were branded, said 
 they were branded, said they were his property. 
 
 'They're mine; I pcd for them.' replied Pat. 
 
 •You'll answer that to the justice,' said tho consta- 
 ble; 'so come along.' 
 
 And taking Pat by the arm, with Darby carrying 
 the skins, they set ont to the magistrate, who lived 
 within a short distance. Hero both O'Brien and his 
 shepherd idenlified the skins; and, as the young man 
 could not tell who he had bought them from, he was 
 committed to prison, to abide his trial for stealing 
 sliecp, the skins of whom were found in his posses- 
 sion. 
 
 'And now,' thought O'Brian, 'I'll at last get rid of 
 this woman and her son; he will, at all events, be tran- 
 sported for life.' 
 
 It would be vain to attempt a description of what 
 the widow Kelly sufl'ured during the period that 
 elapsed between her son's imprisonment and tho as- 
 sizes. Most people thought his conviction certain, be- 
 cause he could not jirove the purcliiise of the skins, or 
 who he bought them from. Pat Kelly bore an excel- 
 lent character, and was pitied by the whole neighbor- 
 hood. They knew O'Brian's dislike to the widow, and 
 there were some who feared this was a plan laid by 
 wicked people to gratify him by having them sent out 
 of the country. 
 
 The wretched mother ceased not night and day to 
 implore the succor of heaven. 'Och!' she would say, 
 'we have no other dependence now. My boy, my fine 
 boy, that never did nothin out of the way, to be mur- 
 thcred this a-way.' And Nancy Brady aflirmcd that, 
 'only they all tak the garvarry, she'd say some of tho 
 min about the land done id, but sure, if they did 
 their face id be turned round — the Lord save every 
 
 • St. Barry's StafT, commonly called the Garvarrj-, it is 
 firmly believed can detect pcijurj-, and that whosoever has 
 the liardlhood to swear falsely with it around his ucck, is 
 punished by Laving his face disfigured, so that few arc 
 found bold euough to perjure tliemselves on the Gar- 
 varry. 
 
 1 A term of endcnrmcnt. 
 
 So that, though all thought Pat Kelly innocent, they 
 agreed that appearances wete greatly against hira. 
 'An God look on poor Mary,' ilicy said; 'she'll not 
 live one day afihcr him.' 
 
 '(iood news! good news!' cried a young man, son to 
 the farmer under whom the widow Kelly lived, rush- 
 ing into the house almost out of breath. 'Good news! 
 Poor Pat Kelly's freed; he's innoctnt.' Ho could 
 utter no more. 
 
 'God be thanked!' said his mother; the widow and 
 orphan, as well as the innocent, are in His blessed 
 keeping. I know the poor boy had no hand in it. 
 But how was he cleared, Harry'i' 
 
 'Its little short of a miracle, mothei^ you'll hardly 
 believe mo when I tell you.' And he went on to nar- 
 rate tho incidents which were brielly thus:— A man, 
 who lived not far from O'Brien's, was, on the evening 
 previous to the assizes, sitting at the fire with his wife; 
 ho appeared to labor under much uneasiness; she 
 asked what ailed him, and he replied, by desiring her 
 to go into tho room for a little, aud not come out till 
 he called her. She wondered at this, but obeyed. 
 Now the room was a small space, close to the fire the 
 partition wall of whi-h was little more than breast 
 high. The woman had scarcely got inside this frail 
 indosurc, when the man, in a tolerably loud voice be- 
 gan thus — 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 245 
 
 'Willi, dear wall, listen to me; an' mind every word 
 I say; I'm in great trouble, wall; there's somcthin on 
 my mind that I swore not to toll to man or woman; 
 but, wall, dear, I'll tell id t'yo. Och, och! wiill, I'm 
 nl'oard the Widdy Kelly's liitle boy 'lU lie kilt for 
 Btealin them sheep, and not doing id M all. Darby 
 Dolan is the man- that done id; I'll leave id to my 
 death, wall, but he is; he kilt the sheep, and mk the 
 meat to a fair, an' he swore me to bring the skins to a 
 market, an' get a strange man to sell them to Pat 
 Kelly, an no one else, for he heard the masthcr say, 
 he'd be betther pleased nor twenty sheep to get some- 
 thin again them Kellys, to hunt them, like red shanks, 
 oat of the counthry, bekaso Blary Kelly cud tell ho 
 was no gentleman. An' this is the truth, wall, dear, 
 an' ids but little Darby give mo for hclpin 'im; but 
 och! I'll never go to heaven if anylhin is done to the 
 jioor hoy, an' me knowin all about id. So, wall, dear, 
 save him if ye can; it'll save my poor soul, an' I'll 
 leave ye my blessin.'* 
 
 The wcmaii lost no time in taking the necessary 
 steps to save Kelly. Darby was apprehended on the 
 above testimony and convicted; ho made no defence, 
 and to the joy of the whole coui-t, a very severe sen- 
 tence was passed upon him. 
 
 Mr. O'Brien was so much ashamed of the whole 
 transaction, tlmt be left the country for some time, and 
 ceased to persecute the widow, who, with her son, was 
 more than ever respected by the neighbors. And, 
 from this circumstance, the garvarry fell considerably 
 in the estimation of the upholders of its infallibiliiy. 
 
 W. 
 
 * The murderers of a gentleman in the county of — were 
 discovered by a man's telling the circumstances to the wall, 
 his wife being within hearing. 
 
 ANCIENT IRISH WAR CLUB. 
 
 The unique and hitherto undescribed implement 
 of war, of which the above woodcut is an exact rep- 
 resentation was found some years since, in the coun- 
 ty of Roscommon, and is now in the possession of 
 Jlr. irndcnvood, of Sandymount. It is of bronze, 
 hollowed, so as to receive a handle at one end, and 
 perhaps a ball or spear at the other. Like all our 
 very ancient weapons, its workmanship is of distin- 
 guished excellence ; and we have not found any- 
 thing resembling it in the published antiquities of 
 any other country. 
 
 That the ancient Irish had war clubs called cran- 
 nabh, appears from old authorities: in an insurrec- 
 tion in the Friary of St. Saviour, (county of Dub- 
 lin,) in 1381, we are informed that some of the 
 brethren were armed with clubs. (Mon. Hip. 
 p. 208.) 
 
 P. 
 
 A TOUR TO CONNAUCHT. 
 
 LETTER VI. 
 To the Editor of the Dublin Penny Journal: — 
 
 Sir— 'What a pity it is ilnit these bogs cannot bo 
 turned to some use,' was tho remark of one of my fel- 
 low trarellers, ns we looked southward across some 
 thousands of acres of red bog that stretched towards 
 tho Hill of Croghan. 'I remember once a near-sighted 
 Englishman, on approaching a gentleman's house in 
 Munster, congratulating the proprietor on the immense 
 quantity of f^illow hind he was preparing for a croj) 
 wheat— the worthy Briton mistaking the red bog for 
 the red soil he was accustomed to in Worcestershire.' 
 'Wont you have patience,' said I, 'until these wastes 
 arc brought under cultivation, according to the process 
 not long ago described as adopted at Chatmoss.' 
 'Pooh, pooh — fiddlc-dee-dec with your Chatmoss; 
 convert, forsooth, the quagmire on which nothing can 
 stand, and in which nothing can swim — which is even 
 too wet for a snipe or a grouse to feed on — into arable 
 land, producing crops of wheat — sir, I would as soon 
 e.\pect my cook to turn a dish of porridge into roast 
 beef, as to expect that the Bog of Allen should be 
 made arable. No sir, it is only a great system of com- 
 bined and national drainage — it is only the slow pro- 
 cess of solidification subsequent to this drainage, that 
 can change those at present growing, or, as I may say, 
 living bogs, into refipients for seed corn — into enclo- 
 sures where the plough and the spade can operate. 
 At the same time,' continued he, I much wonder that 
 a use obvious enough, and very practicable, has not 
 been made of the black, and of the soldier skirts of the 
 red bogs, to maaufacture charcoal — a fuel so portable, 
 so convenient, so valuable, not only for culinary pur- 
 poses, for the diiferent arts and manufactures. Any 
 one who had been at Paris, and saw the Seine covered 
 with barges laden with the charcoal that feeds all the 
 culinary fire and all the furnaces of that city, might 
 wonder why the citizens of Dublin, and more especial- 
 ly the poor, instead of receiving as they do, cumbrous 
 and expensive loads of smoky and strong smelling 
 peat or turf, do not receive their fuel in the shape of 
 charcoal. Besides, what a material is here for iron 
 forges. What is the reason that England, with all her 
 science and capital, cannot produce iron equal to that 
 of Sweden or Russia? Why is it that for all strong or 
 safe purposes, artists of every sort must still purchase, 
 even at double the price, the iron of Scandinavia? 
 Because that in the smelting and working of English 
 iron, the orsenical and sulphureous fumes of the pit 
 coal, still injure thematerial; and neither in the form of 
 metal, bar iron, or steel, can iron manufactured with 
 pit coal, be perfect. And England, when in former 
 days she worked with charcoal, and Ireland, too, pro- 
 duced as good iron as that of Sweden, and it is only 
 necessary to resort to the old smelling with charcoal, 
 to produce tho good old material. Now what the 
 woods of Sweden and Russia supply, we have in 
 abundance in Ireland. I hold it is nearly as easy a 
 process to dry and burn peat into charcoal, as to cut 
 down and cleave timber, and surely iron ore is very 
 abundant in our mountains — yes, and at the bottoms 
 of our bogs, too — and limestone, another necessary, is 
 still more abundant. What then hinders that we have 
 not iron founderios and forges in Ireland? What but 
 the want of quietness, security, and commercial confi- 
 dence, by means of which wo might and may yet take 
 advantage of the capabilities of the island.' 
 
 This conversation brought us to tho top of a hill 
 which commanded a fine prospect westward and north- 
 wards. Immediately in front was the pretty hill and 
 dale country o( Tyrrclls-pass — which is ornamented 
 with much natural oak wood, and improved by hedge- 
 row planting — presenting in the variety of its surface, 
 and in tho number of its gentleman's residences, a 
 country, not unlike some parts of Shropshire. North- 
 wards, you could see that beautiful oval expanse of 
 water, Lough EnncI, with the narrow Brusna (lowing 
 forth and sweeping its tortuous way towards ICilbcg- 
 g.in. This fine lake, full of wooded islands — indented 
 
 with picturesque promontories, and thickly adorned 
 with gentleman's seals— presents a rich, soft, smiling 
 picture, such as Claude or Wilson might paint, or 
 such as Dyer or Shenstone describe. A very pleasant 
 wi^ht, one Geoirrey Gieendrakc, has published Pisca- 
 tory Excursions to the hikes of central Ireland. His 
 rows or his rambles round these waters are almost as 
 amusing to tho readers as they wero pleasant to him- 
 self; no one speaks more knowingly of May flies, 
 greendrakes, or black hackles than he. I remember 
 throwing my line, also, in yonder waters— to be sure I 
 did not catch any thing that I remember but a cold, 
 nor did I bring home much beyond disapjiointment- 
 sooth to s.ay, my rod might well fit Johnson's descrip- 
 tion of that of most fisbcrmen-a lly at one end, and a 
 fool at the other— still I remember, as I rowed out in 
 my single cot in yonder lake to some noted fishing 
 ground, and as I then, while falling down with tho 
 wind, east forth my line, and trusted to my single rod, 
 I was partaking of an honestcr and more sportsman- 
 like amusement than that which I subsequently prac- 
 tised on the Shannon, where with cross lines suspend- 
 ed between two boats, the waters are swept greedily, 
 and tho occupation partakes more of a profitable em- 
 ployment than a sportsman's game — a pursuit more 
 for the pot than for pleasure. Westward again, and 
 on a higher level, sparkling like a silver line on the 
 verge of the horizon, appeared Lough Ouel, in my 
 opinion one of the prettiest of Ireland's lakes. It is of 
 a lowland character, and jjarlakes of the soft 'paysage' 
 stylo of picturesque beauty; no one wonld presume to 
 compare the gentle naiad of Ouel, with the magnifi- 
 cent deities that preside over Killarney, or Ulleswatcr; 
 or Kathrine — but after all it is a precious 'bijou' of a 
 lake, and though there are no sublime peaks, from 
 whence tumble the thunder-riven rock and the ava- 
 lanche — though no clouds, rolling in awful masses, 
 break on the mountain side, and send down the tum- 
 bling cataract — yet here are the smooth, verdant lawns, 
 tho softly swelling, sheep-depastured hills, tho wooded 
 banks, the island, timbered and consecrated by all the 
 mournful associations connected with ruined churches. 
 I don't know whether I exactly expressed these iden- 
 tical sentiments and words to my coach companion, 
 but I certainly praised, as well I might do, the very 
 beautiful Westmeath waters along whose banks I have 
 often wandered, moreover, I do not say that it was 
 any of my fellow passengers who related the follow- 
 ing legend respecting this lake, which, as I have be- 
 fore said, reflected tho sinking sun as a distinct but; 
 distant mirror. 
 
 Playful and fantastic was the being who once dwelt 
 and had power over the sweet valley through which 
 the waters of Lough Ouel now flow. Tho times al- 
 luded to wore those when the Tuatha Danans pos- 
 sessed Ireland when magical power was very preva- 
 lent — and a fine town, older still than Kilmallock, and 
 worthy of its ancient dwellers, covered the bottom of 
 the valley. Tho fisherman, as he in modern days 
 pushes his boat from tho shore, and is disapjiointed in 
 his venture — by the heavens becoming sunlit, the winds 
 still, and the calm mirror of tho lake assuring him ho 
 will cast his line in vain — it is then when he looks 
 down, for want of something else to do, into the trans- 
 lucent deep, that he sees stacks of chimneys, ridge- 
 poles, and the gables of houses, and even a round 
 tower — Irleand's most ancient edifice — and ho calls w 
 mind the ditty that his nurse has sung about the 
 drowning of Old Mullingar. Well, what a purely 
 mischievous person must she have been, that caused 
 this subversion. Yet so it was that a female caused 
 it. It is very much to bo doubted, whether in any 
 case, power should be entrusted in the hands of wo- 
 men. They are quite too capricious, and they do 
 things too much by the jerk of impulse. So it was in 
 this instance. The Tuatha-Danans, who preceded the 
 Milesians in Irelaud, were great magicians. So tho 
 writers of our patron saint assure us, there arc remains 
 of their feats in the land even yet, that can only be ac 
 counted for in the way of supcniatural power. Could 
 any one but a magician take a bite out of a mountain 
 
246 
 
 IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 1q the Counly of Tip|>crary, and drop the mouthful at 
 Cashcl, whcrt' in now stniuls as tho iiotoriouii rock. 
 In ibc same way with respect to Lough Ouol. Some 
 roll her a fairy, others n witch — any how she had more 
 power than I wouW like my wife to possess, and on a 
 day she travels off to tho Counly.of Roscommon, to 
 visit a witch of her acquaintance, who resided on the 
 borders of a very pretty lough there; and every night 
 in which witches may disport, she spent her time in 
 fishing for Gilhiroo trout, and when slio was in bad 
 humor, in turning a flat stone washed by the waters of 
 the lake, and as ever the ninth wave passed over it, in 
 cursing her enemies. No doub: she was very proud 
 of her way o( life; for, said she, I have here what few 
 possess, that is, fowl that have gills, and fish that have 
 gizzards. Now hillicr the Westmeath wise woman 
 bent her way, and after certain days' entertainment 
 and converse, such as witches alone can enjoy, she 
 says — 'Cousin, III be lonesome when I go back to 
 lycinstcr, without the sweet sounds of the wave-beat- 
 ing waters of tliis lough; will yon lend it me until 
 Monday. I will just borrow it for the sake of seeing 
 how it will look in my own pretty valley.' 'With all 
 the pleasure in life," says the Connanght. woman, 
 mighty accommodating, 'but how, deary, will you 
 take it with you or send it back!' 'Oh, easy enough 
 — in my i)ockct-handkerchief.' Ladies carried no ret- 
 icules in those days — and so she did, cleverly enough, 
 and full sure it must have been a rare sight to behold 
 it hurrying eastward, high over the hills of Knockcro- 
 kery — acqucduttiug itself over the broad Lough Ree 
 — disdaining to delay on the plains of Kilkenny-west 
 — and then by a slip of one comer of the kerchief, 
 coming down and settling itself, as if it was bom and 
 bred there, in tho valley of [Ouel. No child was 
 ever proader when paddling in a puddle, than the 
 Westmeath witch was of her borrowed water, and like 
 all wa_nvard and unthrifty ladies, its little it troubled 
 her that thousands of acres were drowned to provide 
 my lady with a looking-glass. But what was to be 
 done when pay Mondoy came? was the lake to be 
 gathered up again in a shawl, and sent back? By no 
 manner of means. I have you, my pretty pond, and 
 never again shall your soft murmuring waves kiss a 
 Connanght shore. Bnt where's your honesty, Lady 
 Westmeath? Oh, how ancient is equivocation — how 
 long has the practice prevailed in Ireland of not pay- 
 ing just debts! Was it from this witch that so many 
 here have found out that it was not their interest to 
 pay the principal, nor their principle to pay interest? 
 Of course the Connanght woman came in due time, 
 huflingly, and demanded her lough. 'Did you not,' 
 says she, 'promise to return it me on Monday last?' 
 'Yes, to be sure I did,' says the crafty witch, 'but as 
 the Irish have it, it was on the Monday after the Sun- 
 day of Eternity; or, as the English say, it was on 
 Monday come never in a wheelbarrow.' Bad treat- 
 ment this of an honest, confiding, generous Connanght 
 woman. But it was to no purpose she stormed and 
 wept; and anger-brcatlnng magician as she was, she 
 could not blow back the lake, nor could all her tears 
 create it; what is worse, she had to sit down contented 
 in as ugly a hollow, where once those sweet waters 
 used to How, as ever Christian laid eyes on — all cov- 
 vered with limestone fiags, as waste and as uglv as the 
 grave-yard. The place is the Barony of Atblone. I 
 have often passed it — people dig there for pipe-clay; 
 small comfort in those early days, for the loss of her 
 lough, seeing as how tobacco pipes and smoking to 
 drive away sorrow, was not yet invented. The lough 
 itself, it would appear, did not like to stay on the 
 Leinster side of the Shannon, and as well became it, 
 sent forth two streams, one from its northern, another 
 from its southern end, both of bounding west- 
 
 wards, and called by the people the gold and silver 
 hands, stretched out towards Connanght, forming tho 
 head waters of the Inncy and the Brusna, and making 
 a very pretty island of the Baronies of Kilkenny west 
 and Garrycastle. It may be supposed that tlic West- 
 meath witch, with the malice that ever belongs to such 
 a magical race, did not stomach this hankering after 
 Connaaght, so on a day she says, 'My pretty water, 
 
 I'll tench jon how to long for that land of bogs and 
 limestones — which Cromwell thought only a little bet- 
 ter than hell — I'll show you, that like a Roscommon 
 spalpeen, you shant be ever scheming to go back to 
 be buried in tho land you were born in.' So what 
 does my fairy woman do, but goes and makes a bar- 
 gain with the Royal Canal Company, to sell Though 
 Ouel to them as a summit level, and she never rested 
 until she cut off both her golden and silver hands, and 
 sent the soft sweet waters through deep-sinkings, locks, 
 and levels, in canal boats lo Dublin. I do not care 
 whether any one besides myself believes my story; all 
 I know is, that it is not my own invention; and this I 
 can assure yon, that contrary to the natural tendency 
 of these waters to flow westwards, they now, as form- 
 ing the finest summit level to any canal in Europe, 
 How eastwards, into the tea-kettles of the citizens of 
 Dublin. 
 
 1 would not desire or expect to meet a much pret- 
 tier village in England, than Tyrrell's-pass — wood- 
 crowned, hilly, dry gravel roads, neat whitewashed 
 cottages, comfortable and well-dressed gentlemen's de- 
 mesnes, a very beautiful new church and steeple — 
 these all meet the eye in and about Tyrrclls-pass; but 
 all these interested me not so much as tho old castle 
 that stands a little way westward of the village, and 
 which, placed at the extremity of a line of gravel hills 
 that rise out of largo bogs which skirt it on either side, 
 guards the only passable road leading towards Ath- 
 lone. This pass — often the scene of bloody contest — 
 has got its name from the ablest partizan soldier that 
 ever Irelond produced, and who lived in the stormy 
 times of Elizabeth, so fertile in every description of 
 great men. This noted soldier was not only remarka- 
 ble for the courage and devotedness with which he in- 
 spired his followers, but also for, in the days of unu- 
 sual treachery, the faithfulness with which he adhered 
 to his cause. True to his employers, attached to his 
 friends, he never despaired of what he thought the 
 cause of his country, which he was the very last to de- 
 sert. I do not desire it to be understood that I at all 
 approve of Tyrrell's siding with the King of Spain 
 against his natural sovereign; but treating historically 
 of him, I cannot but speak of him as a valiant soldier, 
 and a consummate guerrilla chief. Of English de 
 scent, when Tyrone rose in arms against Elizabeth, he 
 took the command of the light-footed and light-armed 
 Irish Bonnaghts, and there was not a mountain pass 
 from Malin Head to Slievo Loghcn, nor a toghcr 
 across a bog from Philipstown Fort to Galway that he 
 did not know the intriacies of. When in the year 
 1597, the new deputy. Lord Burroughs, laid the plan 
 of his campaign against Tyrone, O'Donnell and Ma- 
 guire, it was arranged that the lord deputy, attended 
 by the Earl of Kildare and the lords of the Pale, should 
 march direct upon Ulster, whilst Sir Conicrs Clifford, 
 tho president of Connanght, should, with a force of 
 2,000 men, proceed into his province, and passing 
 through it, turn in on Ulster by the head of the Shan- 
 non, taking Maguire's country in flank, and so pro- 
 ceed to form a junction with the deputy. Tyrone, one 
 of the wiliest of men, was not long in ascertaining the 
 details of this plan, and in taking measures to coun- 
 teract it, and to that purpose he despatched Tyrrell, 
 with 500 picked Bonnaughts, to proceed through the 
 Brenny, into Leinster, to raise the O'Moores of Leix, 
 Pheagh, M'lliigh O'Byme, and my own namesakes, 
 who from the mountain glens were ever ready to rush 
 as fit Tools for fighting or plundering, and so with 
 these united forces oppose and cheek Sir Coniers Clif- 
 ford. Tyrrell, on his way to effect these junctions, 
 was reposing his men in the woods that lie around 
 Lough Enncl, when Sir Coolers, who.^e army lay at 
 MuUingar, hearing of the Irish partizan being in his 
 vicinity, despatched young Bamewell, Lord Trimles- 
 ton's son, with half his forces, to destroy Tyrrell, who, 
 aware of his approach, fell back until he gained this 
 pass, which he made more dangerous by felling trees 
 and fixing them on either side of the bogs that flanked 
 the road, and he directed half his little army, under 
 Owny M'Rory oge O'Connor, to secrete themselves in 
 a deep hollow in the ground, covered with oak copse, 
 
 near which the English were to march in order to gain 
 the pass and assault Tyrrell. Young Barncwcll, ob- 
 serving that Tyrrel was making a show of retreating 
 onwards towards Kilbeggan, hastily advanced, leaving 
 O'Connor in his rear, whereupon the Irish rose from 
 their ambuscade, sounding their bagpipes — which was 
 the concerted signal of the English placing themselves 
 between the two fens — upon which Tyrrell turned 
 about, and both he and (Jwny M'Rory fell on. Tho 
 English, assailed in front and rear, and unalilc to de- 
 ploy — as enclosed between the two hogs and the abba- 
 lis of felled timber — fought gallantly, as they alwoys 
 did, but were completely defeated and annihilated. 
 Barncwcll was taken prisoner, and not a man escaped 
 to tell Clifford the disastrous tiilc, except one man, 
 who plunged up lo the neck in a quagmire, amidst 
 reeds and sedge. O'Connor, who fought on that day 
 like a very madman, had his hand so swollen with 
 fighting and fending, that it coul 1 not be removed 
 from the guard of his sabre until the steel was sepa- 
 rated with a file. Clift'ord, with an army diminished 
 to one half, now found himself surrounded by Irish 
 insurgents on every side, was obliged to return on 
 Dublin, and it required the greatest prudence and skill 
 to effect his safety. This was not the only action in 
 which Tyrrell was concerned in this vicinity. A little 
 to the south, and occupying a similar pass in 
 O'Moore's country, he surprised the most consum- 
 mate of Elizabeth's generals, the Lord Mounijoy; on 
 which occasion the deputy was in imminent danger of 
 his life, and had a horse shot under him. Any ono 
 who reads the history of that terrible struggle between 
 the English and Irish in those wars, will recognize 
 what an important part Tyrrell took in them — how he 
 was mainly instrumental in assisting O'Donnell to 
 pass into Monster, in spite of all Lord Mounjoy's pre- 
 caution, who had supposed that he had every practi- 
 cable ro.id guarded, but which Tyrrell and O'Donnell 
 evaded by passing safely over the hitherto impractica- 
 ble mountains of Slieve Phelim, and so then gained 
 the valley of the Shannon, when the English supposed 
 they had enclosed them in the vale of Suir. Tyrrell 
 led on the vanguard of the Irish forces, at the, to them, 
 disostrons battle of Kinsale. He protected Dunboy as 
 long as it was possible; thought often tempted by the 
 English generals, he constantly refused to betray his 
 cause, though thereby he might have saved from an 
 ignominious death, his nearest and dearest friends. 
 Often betrayed, and often tliereby defeated, yet too 
 vigilant to be taken — too fertile in resources to be van- 
 quished, he still held out; when even O'Donnell, in 
 despair, retired beyond the seas, and Tyrone bar- 
 gained successfully for his pardon, and when at last 
 all was over in Munster, because the country was 
 turned into a wide waste — Tyrell, instead of surren- 
 dering, effected, along with his faithful followers, his 
 retreat out of Desmond, and passed in hostile array, 
 from the farthest mountains of Kerry, through the 
 midst of traitorous Irish and watchful English, until 
 he arrived in the fastnesses of the County Cavan, and 
 there history leaves him, for I find no record of his 
 subsequent life or death, after the Lord Monnljoy had 
 the honor to announce to his sovereign that he had 
 pacified Ireland. 
 
 TtRENCE O'TOOLB. 
 
 CuRiocs Fact. — Mony years ago, a man named 
 Owen Canningham, was employed by a gentleman in 
 Mourae, to dig up a sallow tree of considerable magni- 
 tude that encumbered a particular part of his garden. 
 In the course of the work, the man was surprised to 
 find at the bottom of the tree, a vessel which adhered 
 firmly to its roots. On raising it up, it proved to be 
 an anker of Geneva, which some person had buried 
 there at a remote period, and had forgotten to remove. 
 Tho hoops of this anker were made of green sallows, 
 one of which had vegetated and produced the tree, 
 which Cunningham had then rooted out. This curi- 
 ous circumstance was narrated to the writer of this ar- 
 ticle by Cunningham himself, who was esteemed a 
 man of veracity. C 
 
IRISH MISCELLAISY. 
 
 247 
 
 THE LAMENT OF CERES. 
 
 A fl-ce trauslntion of tlic Four Concluding Stanzas of 
 JScliillor's 'Khige der Ceres.' 
 
 Now the autumn dies, and wintcr^s blast 
 
 Fromtlie north is chillily returning: 
 Leaf and llower their brillianthues have cast, 
 
 And in nakedness the trees are niourningj 
 Therefore from Vertumuus' lavisli horn 
 
 Slowly, silently, the gift I take, 
 Overcharged with life, — the golden corn, — 
 
 As mine olVeringto the Stygian lake. 
 Into oar th I sink the seed with sadness. 
 
 And it lies upon my daugliter's heart; 
 Thus a symbol of my grief and gladness, 
 
 Of my love and anguish I impart. 
 
 When the handmaid hours, in circlingduty, 
 
 Once again lead round the bowery spring. 
 Then upbounding life and newborn beauty, 
 
 Unto all that died the sun shall bring. 
 Lo! the germ that lay to eyes of mortals 
 
 Longwhile coflined by the earth's cold bosom, 
 Blushes as it bursts the clayey portals, 
 
 With the dyes of Iieaven on its blossom! 
 As the stem in triumph skyward towers, 
 
 Bashfully the fibres shun the light ; 
 So, to rear my tender ones, the Towers 
 
 Both of heaven and earth in love unite ! 
 
 Halfway in the realm where life rejoices. 
 
 Halfway in the nightworld of the tomb. 
 These to me are blessed herald-voices 
 
 Wafted earthward from the Stygian gloom. 
 Yea, though dungeoned in the hell of hells, 
 
 Would I, from the black abysm infernal, 
 Hear the silver peal whose music swells 
 
 Is'ow from these my blossoms young and vernal. 
 Singing that where old in ray less blindness 
 
 Gloomily the mourner-phantoms move, 
 Even there are bosoms filled with kindness. 
 
 Even there are hearts alive with love! 
 
 O, my flowers! that round the mead so sunny, 
 
 Odor-loaded, freshly bloom and blow. 
 Here I bless you ! May ambrosial honey 
 
 Ever down your chalice-petals flow! 
 Flowers! I'll steep you in celestial light. 
 
 Blent with colors from the rainbow borrowed, 
 All your bells shall glisten with the bright 
 
 Hues that play around Aurora's torehead! 
 So, whene'er the days of springtime roll, 
 
 When the autumn pours her yellow treasures. 
 May each bleeding heart and loving soul 
 
 Head in you my mingled pains and pleasures! 
 
 THE DOLOCHER. 
 
 What old inhabitant of Dublin does not recollect 
 the Black Dog Prison, which stood in Com Market? 
 
 There happened to be a prisoner confined in this 
 prison of the name of Olocher. He was under sen- 
 tence of death for committiDg a crime, which, alas! 
 not unfrequently stains even the criminal calender — 
 violation of female pur*", accompanied by murder. 
 The morning on which he was to undergo the last 
 sentence ol the law, he found means to commit suicide, 
 and thus escaped (if escape it can be called) the dis- 
 grace of being conveyed through the streets, exposed 
 to the silent execrations of the multitude, on a cart to 
 Gallows Green, now Baggot street, then, the common 
 place of execution. 
 
 On the night after, the sentry, who stood at the top 
 of a long flight of steps, that led into Cook street, was 
 found lying speechless, with his gun by his side. 
 When removed to the jail hospital, his senses and 
 speech returned, but one side of his body appeared 
 quite dead and powerless by a paralytic stroke, which 
 he declared was caused by an apparition in the shape 
 of a black pig. The next night another sentry alarmed 
 the guard, and confirmed the statement of the former. 
 For several nights the guards were regularly called 
 out, who all declared that they had seen this strangely 
 frightful and unnatural appearance, and many people 
 of the neighborhood also affirmed the same. The 
 alarming rumor which this caused was augmented 
 still more by an extraordinary circumstance which 
 took place one night at the Black Dog. When the 
 relief went round about twelve o'clock to the diflferent 
 sentries, they found the sentinel at the awful station 
 had deserted his post! He could not be found. Look- 
 ing behind the sentry box, they perceived the figure of 
 a man — but on closer inspection it was found to be the 
 
 fated victim's gun dressed up with his clothes, even to 
 his shirt, and fully accoutred. Ho had been devoured! 
 Consternation and terror spread on every side. The 
 most scnsililc people of the day -were of opinion that 
 Olocher had taken the shape of a black pig, and had 
 left the mark of his infernal vengeance on the first 
 sentry, and had carried off this last one, body and 
 soul! 
 
 The next day a woman came before the magistrates, 
 and made oath that she saw the Dolocher, (by which 
 name it ever afterwards went, ) in Christ Church lane 
 — that it made a bite at her, held fast her cloak with its 
 tusks, and that through fright she fled and left it with 
 the monster. 
 
 Night after night the alarm was continued. One 
 pregnant woman was attacked by the monster, and on 
 reaching home she miscarried; and at last no woman 
 would venture out after nightfall, for fear of being as- 
 sailed by this demon in pig's form. It was now 
 shrewdly suggested, and whispered about that, as the 
 wretched Olocher was to suffer death for a particular 
 crime, his hatred to women tormented him after his 
 suicide, and that he roved the earth to annoy them, for 
 the assaults of the monster were particularly directed 
 against the fair sex. Thus the demon reigned trium- 
 phant, and upheld his power over people's minds by 
 the terror he inspired. 
 
 At last a set of brave, resolute fellows banded them- 
 selves together to rid the city of such a tormentor. 
 They sallied out one night from a public house in 
 Cook street, at a late hour, armed with clubs, rusty 
 swords, knives and all such weapons as they could lay 
 hands on, determined to slay every black pig they met. 
 The slaughter commenced — such a breaking of legs, 
 fracturing of skulls, stabbing, maiming, and destroy- 
 ing, was never heard of before. When any old pig 
 would be difficult to kill, the women in the houses 
 would shiver and exclaim, 'Oh! they have him now — 
 them are the boys — .the devil's cure to the ugly beast,' 
 and such like tender expressions. Yet all the while, 
 neither man, woman or child dare put their heads out- 
 side the doors to assist them. 
 
 At this time Dublin was infested with such a multi- 
 tude of pigs running about the streets, that the bailiffs 
 were obliged to go through the main streets, and even 
 kill them with pikes, and throw them into carts to 
 can-y them away. After such a night's slaughter, 
 then, we might naturally expect that the streets were 
 strewed over with dead bodies of pigs. No such thing. 
 When morning came, not a pig, while or black, could 
 be seen. How were thej' carried off? It must have 
 been in the same way that the soldier was made away 
 with. Infernal agency must have been at work in re- 
 moving the carcasses. It was horrible. 
 
 However, no Dolocher appeared again that winter. 
 It was conjectured that he must have fallen in the 
 group, and those who had lost a pig, even though they 
 had but one, did not show regret, as it had fallen in 
 the glorious attempt by which the city had been de- 
 livered from a worse plague than the Dragon of Want- 
 ley. 
 
 Human expectations are to often like 
 
 Next winter the Dolocher reiippcared! A young wo- 
 man passing by Fisher's alley on the Wood quay, was 
 pulled in, and a bundle of clothes which she had in her 
 hand, beside her cloak, dragged from her. The alarm 
 spread again; the Dolocher re-commenced his 'reign 
 of terror;' women fled the streets, especially about 
 Fisher's alley and Christ Church lane, and even the 
 stouter hcarts.of men trembled within them at thought 
 of encountering so direful a combatant. Yet strange, 
 very strange to say, the domon-bcast confined his as- 
 saults to that lovely portion of the creation whom we 
 might have expected that even such an awful, 'grizly 
 king of swinish race,' would have respected, if not 
 adored. 
 
 One day a blacksmith, who lived at the outlets, came 
 into Dublin on business. He was a brawny fellow, 
 with a heart as hard and impervious to fear as his 
 study, while his fist was as a sledge-hammer. After 
 
 despatching his business, a friend or two detained him 
 over a 'drop,' and night was advanced before he jire- 
 jiarcd lo relurn home. The rain was descending in 
 torrents— he had no great coat, and two or three miles 
 were before him. In a merry mood, ho wrapped him- 
 self up in a cloak belonging to his friend's wife, and 
 she, to complete his masquerade guise, laid on his 
 head an old black beaver bonnet, and out he sallied. 
 'Take care of the Dolocher!' she whispered, half in jest, 
 half in earnest. 
 
 Just as the blacksmith reached Hell*, out rushed the 
 Dolocher, pounced on its victim, and pinned him 
 against the wall. The blacksmith was not a man to 
 die easy at any time, and especially with a drop of the 
 rale stuff in his noddle. He raised his muscular arm, 
 'Be ye Dolocher or devil, or what ye may, take that!' 
 letting fall a thumper that would have staggered Dan 
 Dannelly. Down dropped the Dolocher. The blow 
 was followed by a kick, the Dolocher groaned — an- 
 other, and he screamed; while standing on the mon- 
 ster, the valiant blacksmith shouted out, 'Halloo — hal 
 loa! I've killed the Dolocher!' A crowd cautiously 
 collected; the dying and groaning devil was lifted up, 
 and out of a black pig's skin came the very man who 
 had been carried off, body and soul, from his post at 
 the Black Dog. The Dolocher was thus laid in the 
 Red Sea, but it was a sea of his own blood. He was 
 removed to the jail hospital, where he died next day; 
 but before death confessed, that, by his assistance, the 
 prisoner, Olocher, had committed suicide, that a low 
 female spread the first report of the black pig, that ho 
 was the ringleader in the slaughter of the pigs, and 
 that as fast as they were killed they were removed to a 
 cellar in School-house lane, and that thus he had kept 
 up the delusion for the jjurpose of robbery. 
 
 ■* Christ Church yard, popularly so called. 
 
 Monastery of St. Gall. — The town of St. Gall, 
 in Switzerland, in the Upper Thurgow, which consti- 
 tutes a republic in alliance with the cantons, and con- 
 tains about 10,000 inhabitants, owes its origin to St. 
 Gall, an Irishman, who founded the monasteiy here in 
 the 7th century, and filled it with his countrymen. 
 The abbot is a prince of the empire. Here are still 
 preserved many Irish MSS. which were carried thither 
 by its first occupants. 
 
 Quintillian was found in the bottom of a tower of 
 the monastery of St. Gall, by Poggio, as appears by 
 one of his letters written from Constance ivhile the 
 council was sitting, A. D. 1417. The monastery was 
 about twenty miles from that city. 
 
 iNGENniTY. — In 1819, Thomas Hall, a linen weaver 
 in Ireland, finished a shirt entirely in his loom. It 
 was woven throughout without seams, and vei-y accu- 
 rately and neatly gathered at the neck, shoulders and 
 wrists. The neck and wristbands were doubled and 
 stitched; there wsis a regular selvage on each side of 
 the breast, the shoulder-straps and gussets were neat- 
 ly stitched, as well as the wrists. In short, it was as 
 perfectly finished, as if made by an expert seamstrsss. 
 The shirt was exhibited to several persons in the linen 
 trade, who completely satisfied themselves that it was 
 actually the production of the loom, without any as- 
 sistance from the needle. 
 
 Potatoes. — Gerard, an old herbalist, thus speaks 
 of them, in 1297: — 'Potatoes grow in India and other 
 hotte regions, of which I planted divers roots, (that I 
 bought at the Exchange in London,) in my garden, 
 whe^e they flourished until winter, at which time they 
 perished and rotted.' Speaking of the mode of cook- 
 ing this exotic, he says; — 'They were roasted in tho 
 ashes, and some, when they be roasted, infuse them 
 and sop Ihcm in wine, and others, to give them greater 
 grace in eating, do boil them with pruns, and so eat 
 them. And likewise others dress them (being first 
 roasted) with oil, vinegar and salt, and every man ac- 
 cording to his taste and liking.' It was Utile imag- 
 ined then that they would become so valued an article 
 in the British dominions, and latterly on the continent 
 of Europe. 
 
248 
 
 IRISH jnSCELLANT. 
 
 THOMOND BEIDGE, LIMEIUCK. 
 
 THOMOND BRIDGE, LIMERICK. 
 
 Among the various interesting olyects which the 
 scenery of the Shannon presents to the lover of the 
 picttircs(|ue ariil antiiiuarinn, the several l)riclges 
 thrown across its mighty stream, to connect the oppo- 
 site provinces, are not the least conspicuous or impos- 
 ing. The former will look with pleasure at the pic- 
 turesque variety and irregularity of form obsen-able in 
 their rude arches, and their long and low horizontal 
 length of outline will remind him forcibly of one of 
 the most frequent incidents in the classic compositions 
 of the great luilian landscape painter, Claude Lor- 
 raine. The latter will view them with no less interest 
 as being generally the most ancient and important of 
 temains of their kind now existing in Ireland. 
 
 The origin of stone bridges in Ireland is not very 
 accurately ascertained; bnt this much at least appears 
 certain, that none of any importance were erected, 
 previous to the 12th century. In that age our annals 
 record the erection of two bridges over '.he Shannon 
 and one over the Suck, by the monarch Turlough 
 O'Connor. There is reason however to conclude that 
 those bridges were of wood, and that the first struct- 
 ures of the kind, of stone, were erected by, or after the 
 arrival of, tlie Anglo-Normans. 
 
 Of these, the subject of our prefixed illustration 
 ranks as one of the most ancient, having been erected 
 by the English adventurers as a necessary step to their 
 intended subjugation of the ancient province of Tho- 
 mond, and when we observe the rudeness and appa- 
 rent unskilfulncss of its construction, and consider 
 how comparatively short-lived many of the noblest 
 structures of the kind have been, we may wonder at 
 its power in resisting for so many ages the destroying 
 hand of time, and the giant force of such a great and 
 rapid river. 
 
 Thomond bridge has the merit of being perfectly 
 level. It crosses the main arm of the Shannon from 
 the N. E. extremity of fie English town, and is built 
 on fourteen arches, under each of which some marks 
 of the hurdles on which it was erected are sail to be 
 still visible. According to tradition, the original ex- 
 expense of this venerable structure was but thirty 
 pounds. 
 
 Connected vrith the locality of Thomond bridge, 
 there are many historical recollections of a deep and 
 saddening interest; but the presiding spirit of our li t e 
 jjumal bids us beware of bringing them into notice — 
 
 and we gladly obey the mandate. To see our coun- 
 trj-men of all classes and denominations, 'united in the j 
 bond of peace,' is our first wish — our most ardent as- ' 
 piration, and the page of history that would mar this ! 
 consummation, by exciting one painful recollection, or ; 
 one ungenerous exultation, we desire — as it should be I 
 the desire of all good men — to leave buried in obliv- ' 
 ion. In lieu of such, let the reader take the following I 
 beautiful sonnet to the Shannon — the composition of 
 a gentleman of rank, and what is better, of patriotism 
 and talent, who resides upon the bank of noble stream 
 ho apostrophizes. P. 
 
 THE SnAKNOK. 
 
 River of billows! to whose mighty heart 
 The tide-wave rushes to the Atlantic sea— 
 liiver of quiet dcpllis! by cultured lea, 
 Komantic wood, or city's crowded mart — 
 
 River of old poetic JbuntsI that start 
 From their lone mountain-cradles, wild and free 
 Nursed with the fauns, lulled by the wood larks glee. 
 And cushat's hymcuial song apart — 
 
 Ri\er ot chieftains! whose baronial halls, 
 Like veteran warders, watch each wave-worn steep, 
 
 rortumna'8 towers, Bunratty's regal walls, 
 Carrick's stem rock, the ticraldine's grey keep — 
 River of dark mementoes! — must I close 
 My lips with Limerick's wrongs — with Aughrim's woes? 
 A de V . 
 
 A Chinese Dead Feast.— The Butte (Cal) Rec- 
 ord gives a graphic description of a demonstration 
 recently made by the Celestials iii those diggin's, 
 which is almost equal to the performances of an 
 Abolitionist anniversary meeting. The Ilccord 
 says : 
 
 Yesterday the dignitaries, musicians, (or rather 
 discordcrs) merchants, gamblers, 8er\-ants and frail 
 China vessels, who constitute the community of 
 Chinatown, in Orovillc, turned out in great num- 
 bers and in all sorts of vehicles, and provided with 
 liberal stores of fireworks and provender, went in 
 procession to the old burying ground to feed and 
 fumieate the illustrious dead. The procession was 
 preceded by a stalwart Celestial mounted on a 
 horse and bearing a white cotton flag bedecked with 
 yellow and red streamers, and rendered perfectly 
 unintelligible to white folks, by great Mongolian 
 hieroglyphics. 
 
 Xext after the standard bearer came a Concord 
 wagon, filled with gong-beaters and hot tea; then 
 
 there was a wagon filled with Chinamen and roast 
 pigs; then came more Chinamen in another vehicle, 
 and they had about a ton of sweatmeats, doughnuts, 
 dried fish and firecrackers; then came more Ce- 
 lestials and more cooked swine; then more China- 
 men and mutton, and Chinamen and more hog, 
 whole hog; then came a bamboo chief with a red 
 top knot, in a buggy ; then followed a wagon filled 
 with teapots and gongs; then lay members with 
 flowers and fan and fish and fireworks; and then 
 more wagons filled with Mongolians and swine, and 
 last, but not least, cither in numbers or noteworthi- 
 ness, were big lumber wagons crowded with frail 
 dead feeding nymphs, rubbing their faces with red 
 bandanna handkerchief and weeping (in a horn). 
 These last were the mourners; and they are the last 
 mourners we would choose to howl over otur cold 
 corpus. 
 
 Following this funny procession were crowds of 
 outside (but sympathizing^ Celestials, white men, nig- 
 gers, diggers and dogs, and they filled the street and 
 made much noise and kicked up a terrible dust. 
 There must have been about a thousand Chinamen 
 forming the procession and following it. There were 
 several distinguished strangers in the party; among 
 them was the one we have alluded to as the 'bamboo 
 chief.' He had a very distingue and decidedly priest- 
 ly ajjpearance, and is, we conjecture, one of their great 
 leaders. There were some five or six others arrayed 
 ' after his fashion, but as they rode together, and in 
 I wagons, we take it that they are his attendants. The 
 crowd of people on the streets made it look like a reg- 
 ular Fourth of July. 
 
 King Charles asked Bishop Stillingflect, how it 
 eame about that he always read his sermons before 
 him, when he was informed he always preached 
 I without a book elsewhere ? He told the king that 
 . the awe of so noble an audience, where he saw 
 ' nothing that was not superior to himself, made him 
 I afraid to trust himself. ' But pray,' said Stilling- 
 j fleet, ' will your majesty give me leave to ask a ques- 
 tion too ? AVhy do you read your speeches to par- 
 liament, when you can have none of such reasons ?' 
 ' 'Why truly, doctor,' replied the king, 'your ques- 
 i tion is a very pertinent one, and so will be my an- 
 I swer. I have asked them so often, and for so much 
 money, that I am ashamed to look them in the face.' 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 249 
 
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 B. Freeman, Newburj'port. The first commodore in the 
 American navy was John Barry, better known as 'Jack 
 Barry.' He belonged in the south of Ireland. In compa- 
 ny with Paul Jones, he hoisted the first American flag, the 
 stripes, on board the Albert, we believe, with a salute 
 of sixteen guns. He is called the father, of the American 
 navy. 
 
 W. D. Yes. William wos wounded at the Boyne. 
 As he was reconoitering King James army, Berwick, Tyr- 
 connel, Sarsfield and some other generals, rode slowly on 
 the opposite banks, viewing the army in their march, and 
 I soon discovered the situation of William. A party of 
 I about 40 horse immediately appeared in a ploughed field 
 'opposite to the place on which he sat. In their centre they 
 carefully concealed two field pieces, which they planted 
 unnoticed under cover of a hedge, and retired. William 
 nounted his horse at that moment ; the first discharge kill- 
 
 tlie King— another ball instantly sue 
 banks of the river, rose and slanted o 
 tearing his coat and flesh. 
 
 red, grazed on the 
 his right shoulder, 
 
 IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 BOSTON, SATURDAY, MAY 29, 1858 
 
 THE BRITISH OUTRAGES. 
 
 In our article last week, we took occasiou to animadvert 
 on the recent aggressions upou American commerce, by 
 British armed cruisers, and gave a list of sixmerchautmcu, 
 T\iio had been tired into and overhauled by the British war 
 steamers. Since then, many more instances have occurred 
 and the offences appear to be of such n serious nature, as to 
 justify the interference of the government. The following 
 is, we believe, a complete list of the vessels maltreated — 
 
 Bark Clara Windsor, tired into and boarded February 
 lOth. 
 
 ' Ship Tropic Bird, fired into and boarded; arrived at Bal- 
 timore. 
 Bark Glenburn, overhauled at sea. 
 Brig Eobert Wing, fired into and boarded. 
 Schooner Mobile fired into near Key West on the 29th 
 ult. ; boarded and searched. 
 
 Schooner AVingold, fired into and boarded April 15th. 
 Arrived at Boston. 
 
 Schooner Cortez, seized and detained at Inagua. This 
 vessel cleared from Havana, clean, for the coast of Africa. 
 Schooner N. B. Borden, fired into and boarded. Arrived 
 at Savannah. 
 Brig Brothers, overhauled and boarded at sea. 
 The following vessels were boarded, May 2, iu the port of 
 Sagua La Grande : — 
 Bark W. H. Chandler. 
 Brig Martha Gilchrist. 
 BrigE. C. O'Brien. 
 
 They have all arrived at New York, and their depositions 
 have been sent to AVashington. At the same time and place 
 the following vessels were also overhauled: — 
 Bark John Howe, Capt. Nichols. 
 Brig John Taylor, Capt. Young. 
 BrigS. Thurston, Capt. Lambert. 
 Ship Clarendon, Capt. Bartlett. 
 Bark V. T. Martin, Capt. Charles A. French. 
 Bark James Cook, Capt. W. Blanchard. 
 There was also a fore and aft schooner seized by a British 
 cruiser off Stone Key, and sent to Jamaica for adjudication 
 A Boston brig which arrived at Cardenas on the 2d of 
 May, was boarded by the Styx. This was reported by the 
 captain of the brig Eolus, of Bristol. 
 
 The only British cruisers mentioned so far, in connection 
 with these outrages, are the Styx, the Buzzard, and the 
 Jasper— all steam gun-boats. 
 
 Since our last publication a proclamation has been issued 
 by the Kxecutive, in reference to these insults to our na- 
 tional honor, and the position of the government upon the 
 whole question of the right of search or visitation, was 
 fully stated in the letter of Secretary Cass to the British 
 Minister, Lord Napier, which was communicated to Con- 
 gress a short time since — a position which will, without 
 doubt, be maintained by the country at large, whenever 
 the proper moment arrives. 
 
 There is nothing, which, as a nation, Americans will so 
 quickly resent, asan insult to their flag by a foreign pow- 
 er — more especially , when, as is the case in this instance, that 
 power happens to be Great Britain, and with a promptitude 
 and alacrity which we did not deem the Administration ca- 
 pable of exercising, from the well-known British tenden- 
 cies of the I'resident, suitable measures have been adopted 
 to meet the dilficulties. The American Minister to Loudon 
 Mr. Dallas, has been instructed to make the proper repre- 
 sentations and demand from the British government repa- 
 ration for the outrages, while our ships of war in the Gulf, 
 have been ordered to render the fullest protection to our 
 commercial marine in that quarter. 
 
 In the face of these preparations though, the Washington 
 Union, {the oflicial organ of the government) of the 2Utli 
 inst., says: — 
 
 *We cannot believe that Great Britain has deliberately is- 
 .^ucd instructions to her naval commanders in contraven- 
 tion of it, {the right of search) and we earne.'itly Jiopu that 
 tilt; wrongs coniinaincd of may be promptly disavowed by 
 the BritisHi govi-rnnient, an" • ' ■ ■■ 
 
 bed. What is uf even 
 
 measures taken by her MHJusty 
 as will prevent similar proceedings in tiie tu 
 
 P. S. Since writing the above, the telegraph brings us 
 information that the Secretary of the Navy has issued or- 
 ders to comnutndcr Hartstein to proC(;ed to New York im- 
 mediately, and assume command of the steamer Arctic; 
 also to commander John Kogers to take command of the 
 Weter Witch— to lit them ()ut without delay, and proceed 
 to the Gulf in search of the British steamer Styx. The 
 House Naval committe will also report a bill fortUe im- 
 mediate construction of ten steam gun-boats. 
 
 CLUBS! CLUBS!! CLUBS!!! 
 
 There is no town or village so small, but a club of six or 
 more subscribers for the Irish Miscellany can be easily ob- 
 tained. Will those of our friends who arc well-wishers ol 
 the land of their birth, do us the favor of getting up Clubs. 
 Our terms will be — 
 To a club of six persons sent to one address, !S10,00 
 
 To a club of twelve, 19.00 
 
 The whole of the money must invariably be sent at one 
 remittance, and in advance. 
 
 In addition to this great reduction of price, each member 
 of a Club will be entitled to copies of all our splendid Gift 
 Fictures. Let our friends exert themselves, and by their 
 patronage make the Miscellany the foremoit Irish journal 
 on this continent. 
 
 OUR PICTURE GALLERY. 
 
 Some misapprehension has arisen in the minds of our 
 readers as to the terms on which they will be entitled to 
 our Gift pictures. Wc beg to.allay all misapprehension by 
 informing them that every person who has taken our pub- 
 lication from the first, either from ourselves or from any of 
 our agents, will be entitled to all our gift pictures— it being 
 our intention to present our subscribers with a picture, 
 with each new volume ot our paper. Every person who 
 has not hitherto been a subscriber to the Miscellany, must 
 subscribe in advance, in order to be entitled to our Nation- 
 al Picture Gallery. 
 
 New subscriptions can commence at any time previous to 
 the publication of our first picture, which will be issued the 
 first week in July. 
 
 A casual purchaser of our paper cannot expect to receive 
 a picture worth Sl,oO. We again ask our agents and sub- 
 scribers to^send in their orders immediately? 
 
 OUR NEXT NUMBER. 
 
 The next number of the Miscellany will contain a 
 splendid full length engraving of the statue of Ireland's 
 great poet Thomas Moore, by the sculptor Koffe; also an 
 elegant and finely executed view of Athcarne Castle, 
 a portrait of Lawrence Sterne, &c. Lover's charming 
 song 'The Four Leaved Shamrock,' arranged for the Piano 
 Forte, will also be contained. The usual variety of origi- 
 nal and selected matter will be presented and the number 
 will be a great one. Send in your orders at once. The 
 paper will be issued on Monday,; the 31st inst., and will be 
 sold by all periodical dealers and newsmen generally— at 
 only four cents a copy. 
 
 PUBLICATIONS RECEIVED. 
 
 From the publisher, J. Jones, No. 2 Water street, 'Zinga- 
 ra the Gipsy,' by Annette Slarie Malliard, a powerful and 
 finely writteiT story, recently printed in the Parlor Casket 
 and now re-produced in book form. Price 25 cents. 
 
 NEW MUSIC. 
 From P. JI. Haverty, 110 Fulton street, New York— A 
 collection of one hundred Irish airs, arranged for the Pi- 
 ano Forte. The collection is neatly got up, and illustrated 
 with a finely executed lithograhpic title page, and is sold at 
 the low price of S?l. 
 
 punishe( 
 look to t 
 
 peri><^'trators suitably 
 
 Now this appears to be slightly conciliatory, and as it is no 
 doubt exprcsHcd in an oflicial niauner, would argue a de- 
 sire on the part of the President to 'run with the deer and 
 follow with the hounds.' 
 
 We trust, however, that there will be no half-way meas- 
 ures taken in this matter. Justice— ample justice— is re 
 quired. There is nothiug like vigorous action, and the 
 soonertlie insults are redressed, the better it will be lor the 
 peace and prosperity of the country. We must not wait for 
 
 planations. Let us kill the snake, not scotch it, and mu 
 
 BACK NUMBERS. 
 
 Back numbers of the Miscellany, from the commence- 
 ment of the paper, may bo procured through any of our 
 regular agents, or by sending direct to the office of publi- 
 cation, No. 4 Water street, Boston. Will our friends ia 
 want bear this fact in mind? 
 
 SUBSCRIPTIONS FOR THE DONEGAL 
 SUFFERERS. 
 
 BI. J. Walsh & Co., Proprietors of Miscellany, S;5.00 
 M. F. & P. C, New Haven, Conn., 2.00 
 
 A. Dougherty, Westboro, Mass., I.OO 
 
 B. and J. Freeman, Newburyport, 3,00 
 Will our fViends send in their subscriptions without del 
 
 as it is our desire to remit the amouut received, at the ear- 
 iest possible moment. 
 
 ay 
 
 td a man and two horses on a line, (at some distance) \\ith ' tual e.xplanalions nuiy follow allerwards if they will. 
 
 No9. 4 AND 5 —Owing to the great demand for the earlier 
 numbers of our paper, we have entirely exhausted all our 
 Nos. 4and5. We shall, as soon as we can complete the 
 necessary arrangements, issue extra editions, and our 
 numerous iViends can rest assured that their wants will be 
 sui)p!ied at the earliest possible moment. 
 
250 
 
 IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 Written forth.' Mi-cillmiy. 
 THE BARO OF ERIN. 
 
 BY MAULilUl/AIlU. 
 
 Be 1» lo«t to a» ever, for in pence lie uluniber^, 
 Ttie Minstrel n'lioin Eriu did love as lier bet«t ! 
 
 Oh '. when nhnll the burp striuf^ with soul stirring numbers 
 Awaken ngaiu in tbc Isle of the West. 
 
 lie wai* true to his I.tle when tymnts oppressed lier, 
 Who car<tall her snj^es nntl putriots in chtiin(«; 
 
 Though tniitom belmyed nnU I'nctions distressed her, 
 lie ceased not to warble for Krin his strains. 
 
 Though the Minstrel is dead, yet his llime as a beacon 
 At liberty's dawning shall shine on our shore, 
 
 To guide the fair goddess of freedom, then seeking 
 lu Erin her home and sway to restore. 
 
 Sleep on, Uard of Erin ! in honor and glory— 
 Thou art prized us the star of thine own native isle; 
 
 Thy songs have caused nations K) weep o'er its story, 
 And curse tyrant England, the heartless and vile. 
 
 Baraboo, Sauk Co., Wisconsin. 
 
 THE SHAMROCK. 
 
 A blessing on the Shamrock sweet, 
 That springs so lowly at pur feet, 
 
 Our emblematic Shamrock; 
 Where'er you go you'll see it grow. 
 It wakes in Irish hearts a glow 
 
 Of Love and Kaith— our Shamrock. 
 
 It grows upon the loftiest hills, 
 
 And springs beside the murnuiring rills. 
 
 In verdure bright; our Shamrock. 
 It fears not slorni, or rain or hail, 
 It is uninjured by the gale; 
 
 Our hardy little Sliumrock. 
 
 Just like the heart.'* that round it dwell, 
 The true, brave hearts, that love so well 
 
 Their treasured little Shamrock; 
 Who, the' oppressed by woe and wrong. 
 In Hope are rich, in Faith are strong, 
 
 Enduring as the Shamrock. 
 
 I'roud England's rose doth soon decay, 
 Wliilst thou art ever fresh and gay. 
 
 Our smiling little Shamrock. 
 The thistle is a prickly thing, 
 But thou wouldst rather heal than sting. 
 
 Like Irish hearts; sweet Shamrock. 
 
 Saint Patrick's smile doth on thee glow. 
 As when he blessed thee long ago. 
 
 Our famous little Shamrock: 
 OhI may our tyrants everdread. 
 Upon thy triple leaves to tread, 
 
 Our own beloved Shamrock. 
 
 Then ne.xt our heart we will thee wear, 
 Thou'lt teuch us how our wrongs to bear, 
 
 Our bright, the' trodden Shamrock: 
 We'll join in love— a faithful band. 
 And make the oppressors fly the land, 
 
 Of those who wear the Shamrock. 
 
 Then we will twine our harps once more. 
 With thee, as when in days of yore. 
 
 Our ancient little Shamrock, 
 And list that talc their tomes shall tell 
 Of I'atrick brave, who loved so well 
 
 I'o guard their land of Shamrock. 
 
 Oh! when our souls are culled above. 
 Then may we see the Saint we love 
 
 Crowned with immortal Shamrock; 
 And when we're laid beneath the tomb. 
 Wilt thou not on ourgreen graves bloom? 
 
 Our ever faithful Shamrock. 
 
 E. E. F. 
 
 Written for the Irish Miscellany. 
 INK DROPS: 
 
 FROM TIIR TEN OF THE 'UlEER COVE.' 
 
 No. 6. — He inveighetli against model artists. 
 I appeal to you, Mr. Kditor, under the supposition 
 that you arc a moral man, (or at least you ou);ht to be, 
 if you art not) as to whether you think the thing is 
 ri(.'ht — whether ' in these weak piping times of peace,' 
 when the outrages on American vessels by the British, 
 prove to be a 'fizzle,' and the chances of awar between 
 England and France, are like the leg from which the 
 young lady, spoken of by the poet Thompson, was 
 taking 'the inverted silk,' ' fine by degrees, and beau- 
 tifully less '—(for you know, Pellessier, at the dinner 
 
 given him hy the Army and Navy Club, gave as a toast, 
 ' the itnperishnhlo union of the armies and navies of 
 England and Kruncc,' which Hccnis for the present to 
 set that matter at rest) — Yes, sir, I appeal to you, if 
 'tis not tt ' crying shamo ' for oor civic papa's to allow 
 that individual on the Common, who revels in the 
 joint proprietorship of a sandy beard and a big spy 
 glass, to have posted on a placard, in sight of all our 
 budding maids, just gliding into their teens; and our 
 modest young men, (one of whom I flatter myself 1 
 am,) the words 
 
 VENDS ExniDITED ! 
 
 Is it come to this at last, that the Common — that 
 ' flower in the button hole of Massachusetts,' as Nat. 
 V. Willis very daintily calls it, is to he made the scene 
 of a model artist exhibition ! and that, too, when the 
 use of a telescope is brought into rcciuisilion, the more 
 clearly to bchoKl the dramatis pcrsonca ! 
 
 Venus, the loveliest, but the lightest of her sex — the 
 wife of Vulcan, the celestial blacksmith, who received 
 this frail lump of beauty, as a reward for services ren- 
 dered to the gods, but the leman of any on whom her 
 roving fancy might, for the moment, chance to alight 
 — Mars, Adonis, and like her more modern represen- 
 tative, Lucrctia Borgia, her own son Cupid, besides 
 many others wlio were not her sons, successively had 
 a place in her heart. What odds if she was like the 
 wife of Cains Marcus Coriolanus : — 
 
 'Chaste us the icicle. 
 That's curded by the frost from purest snow. 
 And hangs on Dian's temple'; 
 then the exhibition might be worth witnessing, for 'tis 
 a refreshing sight to see, as William AVordsworth has 
 it : — 
 
 'A perfect woman, nobly planned, 
 To warn, to comfort and command; 
 And yet a spirit still, and bright 
 With something of an angel light.' 
 
 But to exhibit a worn out debauchee to the eyes of our 
 ' young men and maidens,' appears to me, to be ' tread. 
 ing on the heels of the pall bearers. ' Oh ! individual 
 with the huge spyglass, and the s tereoscopie views ; 
 how can do so, in open violation of the statute in that 
 case made and provided 1 
 
 ' Oh, where, ond oh, where is ' 
 your shame gone ? In what shape do you exhibit her? 
 Is it Venus at the bath, Venus with the shell, or Venus 
 in any of the multifarious ways in which she has been 
 served up by sculptors and painters ? 
 
 ' No, forsooth,' saith a voice at my elbow ; ''tis only 
 the Planet he exhibits.' 
 
 An' one of her father Jove's thunderbolts had ' floor- 
 ed me' I could not have been more astounded. 
 
 Here have been pouring out my virtuous indigna- 
 tion to no effect whatever. In sooth, I am as badly off 
 as the boarding school miss, who, on being home on a 
 visit, was sent up atairs by her mother, to indite an 
 epistle to her aunt. After an absence of some two 
 hours, her 'anxious mama ' went up stairs to .see what 
 progression had been made. A sheet of paper was 
 observed, on which was penned the three words — ' my 
 dear ant.' 
 
 ' What,' said the 'enragied paricnt,' ' have you been 
 shut up here two hours to call your aunt a pismire ? 
 
 So 1 have been pouring the vials of my wrath, on 
 what after all turns out to be a very harmless affair. 
 
 Oh, man with the big lorgnette, continue your ex- 
 hibition ! Oh, planet Venus continue to 'spread' 
 yourself, while in the language of good Dr. Watts, I 
 sing : 
 
 'Twinkle, twinkle, little star. 
 How I wonderwhat you are; 
 Vp above the world so high- 
 Like a diamond in the sky !' 
 
 Come, Mr. Editor, let us go and ' shed a tear.' 
 
 tST Our Dublin Letter did not come to hand in 
 season to ensure its insertion in this paper. We 
 trust our readers will be amply compensated by 
 the abundance of matter presented, and v,c will 
 make up the deficiency in oui next. 
 
 CORRESPONDENCE. 
 
 AID Foil PONEUAI, FIIOM CANAUA. 
 
 Editor of the Irish Miscellany:— 
 
 Sir, — Judging by the interest which you have 
 hitherto manifested on the subject, I have no doubt 
 it will be pleasing to you, as I feel assured it will to 
 many of your readers, to learn that a subscription 
 ill aid of the Donegal fund, is now being taken up 
 in the 'Hock city,' the ancient capital of Canada. 
 The movement was inaugurated hy a lecture deliv- 
 ered last evening in the hall of the St. Patrick's 
 Catholic Institute, by the Kev. J. N. Campbell, ■who 
 cheerfully comj>led with the request of that body 
 to lecture in aid of the fund. Unfortunately, 
 however, about half an hour before the time an- 
 nounced for the commencement of the lecture, the 
 rain began pouring, and during the entire time of 
 its delivery continued comingdown in torrents, thus 
 preventing the presence of hundreds who would 
 otherwise have been there. Notwithstanding, the 
 attendance was numerous and respectable, and the 
 amount taken at the doors not bad. 
 
 Immediately on the conclusion of the lecture, a 
 short address was made by the Bev. D. McGauron, 
 pastor of St Patrick's church, and a subscription 
 list opened. It is hoped that a respectable sum 
 will be made up, notwithstanding the hard times, 
 and the long and extreemly dull winter from which 
 we arc but just emerging. 
 
 Yours very truly, 
 
 Beannaugh. 
 
 Quebec, May 10th 18.58. 
 
 Detuoit, Mich., May 21, 1858. 
 Editor of Irish Miscellany: — 
 
 Sir, — A\'ill you please forward your journal to 
 the 'Y'oung Men's Catholic Association,' of this 
 city. If you can send the back numbers you will 
 oblige us. This society has been recently formed in 
 this city, and is commencing its career under the 
 most fevorable indications of success. We have 
 already written for and received the principal jour- 
 nals of the country, and the coniracncement of 
 your enterprise is, let me say, most opportune. It 
 is just what was desired, and meets a want that was 
 widely felt. Other Irish journals will be welcome 
 in the family circle, or wherever they may be read, 
 but the pages of the Miscellany are fraught with 
 additional interest, which cannot but meet with the 
 most flattering success. Y'our engravings show su- 
 perior execution, and are of no common order. I 
 have had time to read but little of your Dublin cor- 
 respondence, but 'Avonmore' cannot fail to become 
 a favorite. 
 
 At our last meeting I was instructed to write for 
 your paper, and hope you will commence its regu- 
 lar transmission. 
 
 Y'ours respectfully, 
 David Lanigan, ,Sec. C. \. M. A. 
 
 Waterliet Centre, N. Y'., May 20th, 18.58 
 Editor of Irish iliscellany : — 
 
 Sir, Enclosed I send you two dollars, as my sub- 
 scription to the Irish Miscellany for one year, from 
 the date of its first publication. Y'ou will therefore 
 please send me the back numbers to this date. I 
 have been a constant reader of the 'Miscellany' since 
 its first appearance among the Literary messengers 
 of the day, and I must say that my interest in it in- 
 creases weekly, as I peruse its well filled pages of 
 useful and interesting matter. 
 
 The re-publication in its columns of that desen'- 
 edly popular periodical, the 'Dublin Penny Journal,' 
 is a most pleasing feature in your paper; while your 
 pictorial illustrations of Irish scenery, and her ivy- 
 clad ruins, m cmentoes of her former greatness, will 
 cause many to revisit in memory, the dearly vene- 
 rated scenes of boyhood, and -will serve to foster 
 
IRISH MISCELLAFir. 
 
 251 
 
 and perpetuate au honorable imJ patriotic love of 
 fatherluud. 
 
 It certainly supplies a want which heretofore ex- 
 isted among our Irish Amercan journals, and I sin- 
 cerely hope it may receive that hearty support to 
 which it is entitled, from all true Irishmen, who 
 love their native land, and desire to see a healthy 
 literature which is raccy of the soil. Please for- 
 ward the paper regularly to the address of 
 Yours respectfully, 
 
 Samuel Geaham. 
 
 WESTWAllD HO I 
 
 Out of the many letters we have received, upon 
 I emigration to the 'West, we select the following, 
 i because the writer is personally known to us, and 
 
 we can vouch for his fidelity : — 
 j Philadelphia, May 15, 1858. 
 
 I Editor of the Irish Miscellany : — 
 ' Sir, — Your leader, ' Go to the West,' I suppose 
 I will have the effect to prompt some of our people to 
 migrate westward. Let these words ' Go to the 
 West ' echo throughout New England in particular, 
 and for the very reasons that you have given in last 
 week's issue of the ' Miscellany.' I endorse every 
 word and sentiment written in that article, I have 
 been west, northwest and southwest ; and though I 
 am now southeast, it is for a short time, I hope. I 
 confess I am one of that class who is not quali- 
 fied for a new country, such as you have recom- 
 mended in j-our editorial — not having ruggedness 
 sufficient to contend with forest or prairie life, that 
 for which the great majority of our countrymen are 
 adapted, so well inured are they to endurance and 
 toil ; yet to me, the ' wide west ' possesses attrac- 
 tions of a most agreeable kind — the sociability of its 
 heterogeneous population, and the almost entire 
 absence of that blighting intolerance which charac- 
 terizes Nfew England in general — that proscriptive 
 feeling which has almost nipped that profound love 
 and adoration which I have cherished from my child- 
 hood, for the land of Washington. In the West, I am 
 happy to say, this false sentiment is nearly evanes- 
 cent ; evenamongthe emigrants from New England, 
 no more kindly people are there ; they love their old 
 homes with as fervent a devotion, as we do the 'land 
 that bore us ;' and always evince a warmth of feel- 
 ,ng for those of us who have had a temporary home 
 in the east. AVould that no 'misunderstanding' 
 ever interrupted that fraternity which binds us, na- 
 tive and adopted citizens, to our common country ; 
 as all were necessary to one another in the battle 
 fields of the revolution, so are all necessary to one 
 another in the fields of industry and peace. We 
 have proof positive of this. Let us take Wisconsin. 
 It is delightful to witness the fraternal feeling that 
 prevails among the citizens of that growing young 
 state. Long may it be exempt from that ignomini- 
 ous strife which has left dark clouds over Louisville, 
 Baltimore, and which hovers near your Bunker's 
 Hill. How flatly the city of Milwaukie contradicts 
 the imputations which are frequently cast on the 
 emigrant population — that whenever this element 
 prevails, society has no peace. Here, then, is the 
 'fair white city,' as Mr. Meagher truly designated 
 it ; two thirds of its people foreigners, German and 
 Irish, the most moral and peaceful city in the union. 
 May the tongue and hand of the political and relig- 
 .ous fratricide never poison or sully the spotless es- 
 aitcheons of that lovely city of the Lake. 
 
 To emigrants westward bound, I would say, do 
 lot take the railroad time-table in the newspapers, 
 for your guide, or you wiU be taken in as I was, on 
 the road from Cincinnati to Wheeling. Kailroad 
 Agents ought to correct their advertisements when 
 ;hey take off some of their cars. In order to luxu- 
 riate in the untamed grandeur of the scenery on the 
 ^hio and Baltimore Kailroad, I took the accomoda- 
 tion train for Columbus, which the advertisement ' 
 
 stated would connect there at ten o'clock, P. M., 
 with a train for Wheeling, via. Zanesville. There 
 was no connection, the accommodation train on the 
 Central Ohio, was withdrawn, for some time, off that 
 road, so I had to remain in Columbus for the Cin- 
 cinnati train of next morning. 
 
 Continue, Mr. Editor, to send the ' Miscellany ' to 
 my former address, in St. Louis, till the expiration 
 of my subscription ; I have presented it to a friend. 
 Be so kind as to forward me, to the address given 
 underneath, the first and ninth numbers to complete 
 my file, and you will oblige an ardent lover of your 
 literary and Pictorial Weekly. 
 
 FraternaUy yours, 
 
 St. Miohan's. 
 
 Lynn, Mass., May 21st, 1858. 
 Editor of the Irish Miscellany : — 
 
 Sir, at the semi annual meeting of the Irish Liter- 
 ary Association of Lynn, held May 3d, for the elec- 
 tion of officers, the following were chosen : — 
 
 President, Daniel Mullen; Vice President, Pat- 
 rick Walsh; Secretary, Daniel Donovan; Book- 
 keeper, Daniel Penton; Librarian, Peter Murphy; 
 Treasurer, Peter Brown; Directors, Michael Lenox, 
 William Roland, John Kenedy, Thomas Green, 
 James Riley. The report of the Treasurer shows 
 the financial affairs of the society to be in a most 
 prosperous condition, which gives us pleasure to 
 record. We hope ths young Irishmen of Lynn 
 will give it active support ; it certainly deserves it 
 at their hands. 
 
 ancient ordek of hibeknians. 
 Editor of the Irish Miscellany: — 
 
 Sir, Being one of the many who are anxious to es- 
 tablish an Irish organization in this city, for the bene- 
 fit and friendly unity of the sons of St. Patrick, and 
 having read the reports of the different processions in 
 New York and elsewhere, in the Irish-American news- 
 paper and seen your engraving in the Miscellany, 
 think that we Innisfail Bostonians are altogether in 
 the background. Verily you were corerct in saying 
 that we had imbibed a good deal of the cold puritani- 
 cal feeling of our Yankee fellow citizens. This socie- 
 ty was in existence some short time before last Pat- 
 rick's day. I hope the next will not appear to Irish- 
 men as gloomy as the preceding one. I am happy to 
 say that our number of members already amounts to 
 about 100, all sober, honest, upright and peaceable 
 citizens, with a weekly increase of members. The 
 other body, I believe, has about an equal number, so 
 that I hope we will on the next 17th, be worthy of 
 ranking with all our fellow eoantrymen in doing honor 
 to the day we should always venerate. We meet in 
 Boston and the other division holds its meetings in 
 Charles town. 
 
 Your success in the field of journalism gives much 
 pleasure to all true Irishmen. Wishing continued suc- 
 cess and prosperity to your paper and advocacy of our 
 rights, and admiring the sterling talent used in our be- 
 half, I remain your humble servant, 
 
 Michael Letdon. 
 
 Boston, May 12th, 1858. 
 
 From the Dublin Celtic Union. 
 THE BRIDAL OF DEATH. 
 
 Andy Nowlan stood beside the fresh clay of his fath- 
 er's grave; himself the only mourner of his last and 
 only friend. The young man had lived the simple life 
 of an Irish peasant, and crime had hrouglit no black- 
 ness on his heart; his mild blue eye l)eamc<l with a 
 glance as innocent as that of childhood, and though 
 the visitation that liad fallen on the land had brought 
 sorrow to bis own hcarili, it had not furrowed his brow 
 or blanched his cheek; A few months before he had 
 deposited in the same grave the remains of his mother 
 and sister, to-day his tears fell upon the coflins — lie 
 had just heard the hollow sound ot the clods fall on 
 his father's, and now ho stood weeping by the fresh 
 mound, friendless and alone. In that grave was laid 
 
 all that was endeared to him by the ties of memory 
 and blood: he could never bear their voice, or glance 
 into their eye, or feel the warm pressure of their hand 
 again — but the blessings they had breathed over him 
 from the bed of death seemed to fleet in the air around 
 him, like angel messengers from another world, and 
 he fancied he heard the dead ones' whispering borno 
 on the evening's sigh. 
 
 The neighbors who attended the funeral had 
 stolen away out of respect to the young man's 
 grief; two of the companions of his younger years 
 only remained to accompany him to his desolate 
 home. Neither, conscious of his own weakness 
 would approach the spot sacred to death and sor- 
 row till evening had set in, but then at length sum- 
 moning up courage, they forced young Nowlan 
 rudely though goodnaturedly away. None of the 
 party would, however, commence conversation till 
 as they neared Nowlan's cottage, Dinny Hickcy, 
 who prided himself much on his knowledge of hu- 
 man nature, and the things of the world in general, 
 at last broke silence. 
 
 'Andy,' asked Dinny, sglemnly, ' do you remem- 
 ber what your poor father said afore he died, re- 
 gardin' your dealins wid ould Hardrade, the land- 
 lord ?' 
 
 ' I remember it, for cartain Dinny, though it's 
 little I care about the lan'lord now, an' I'll give him 
 up the holdin' any time he likes.' 
 
 'In throth it 'ud jist be as well, shure," put 
 in Larry, the other of Nowlan's companions, • for 
 now that you're a single boy, there's no boll an you 
 like uz that has the wives, God help us, and if 
 I wor you I'd never live a day under a lan'lord — 
 the naygurs — but thry my luck in America.' 
 
 ' To be sure, what the Danes else would the boy 
 do,' said Dinny, ' an' if he could get a few pounds 
 out of ould Skinflint — bad luck to him — for givin' 
 up the laise, it 'ud be the luckiest day for him that 
 ever shine d.' 
 
 ' In regard o' the laise,' observed Andy, ' I be- 
 lieve it was broke a long ago, but at any rate it inds 
 wid my poor father's death, God be merciful to 
 him.' 
 
 ' Amin, Andy asthore,' said Larry, ' though, I 
 think, he's in no need iv our prayers ; sure if he's 
 not happy how will it be wid uz ?' 
 
 ' There wasn't an honester or a daicinter man in 
 the five baronies, or for that matther from say to 
 say,' said Dinny with vehemence, ' and it'll be a woe 
 day for you, Andy, the day you neglect his ad>-ice.' 
 ' God forbid I ever should, Dinny.' 
 ' An' don't forget what he said regardin' the bail- 
 iffs, becaise you'll soon want to put it in practice.' 
 ' Och its little I'll have to do wid the likes o'thim, 
 for I'll go to Hardrade to-morrow an' settle,' re- 
 plied Andy. 
 
 'Hardrade is before hand wid you, my poor fel- 
 low,' said Dinny sympathetically. 'Oh its little 
 you know the sort iv a world you'll have to deal 
 wid, wait till you suffer as much as I did.' 
 
 'What do you mane, Dinny,' asked Nowlan, 
 eagerly. 
 
 'Mane, why he manes,' says Larry, 'that the bai- 
 liffs arc at home in the house wid you.' 
 
 ■Bailirts at the house! sayzed onl all — all gone!' said 
 Nowlan wildly, 'oh, I'm ruined. But I'll tear thim — 
 I will'— 
 
 'Tear nor kill nothin, Andy Nowlan,' said Hickey 
 leaving his broad band on the other's, shoulder, 'I 
 liecrd your father wid my own cars commandin you 
 to lie paiccful an' makin' you promise to lie as quiet 
 as a lamb in case the bailiffs kim, and now will you 
 bring pain on your father's sowl :' 
 
 'Oh no — no — no, Dinny, not for worlds. I'll be 
 quiet, though its hard for flesh an' blood to bear it.' 
 The two friends had performed the great office of 
 friendship in informing young Xowlan of the visi- 
 tors that were before him in his cottage. The 
 wretched landlord: hearing of the death of old 
 Nowlan, had sent bailiffs accompanied by a sheriff's 
 
252 
 
 IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 olHccr, who mingled with the crowd at the funeral, 
 and when the corpse was lifted from tlie door, slip- 
 ped into the house and seized all it contained, as 
 well as the little stock that was on the fanii. AVhcn 
 the three friends entered the house, the officers of 
 the 'law' were enjoying themselves before a large 
 turf fire, and griiuiingly offered young Nowlan a 
 scat at his own hearth. This he declined, and with 
 his friends retired to a distant room, and all thought 
 of sorrow forgotten, to advise upon the best course 
 to be adopted. 
 
 'Begannies,' suggested Larry, 'I think the best 
 way would be for the three iv us to give the arti- 
 chokes at the fire below, a warm reception beway 
 IT a do sure, an" it'll soften the bargain wid ould 
 Hardradc.' 
 
 ' Howld your prate, you poor ig'rant boccagh,' 
 said Dinny, what do you know about sich a thing 
 — oh wait till you harrow \\hi\t I ploughed an' you'll 
 luiow more iv the world.' 
 
 ' Divil a one of me wants to put in my prate at 
 all, Diuny, you have all the lingo to yourself, on'y 
 wliin a man is persecuted an' harrislied, like poor 
 Andy here, it's but a fair bill he should punish thim, 
 an' be gorty I'm not the man to stop from givin' a 
 bailiff a whallickin, for the Pope o' Koom.' 
 
 • Never fear,' retorted Dinny, ' you're for what's 
 neither right or lawful, bckaise you know no bet- 
 ther, an' how would you know it, that never was 
 three perch from a cow dung all the days o' your 
 life, not all wan as me. Xo, but what I say, that 
 knows the differ, an' stood more thrials in coort 
 than ever the Counsellor did, God be good to him, 
 an' to all thim that's gone afore us, — what I says is 
 what ould Pan used to say, stand 'ithin the barriers 
 o' the law, an' then they'll never ketch howlt o' you. 
 But you, you poor ' 
 
 ' Well,' interrupted Nowlan, who feared an alter- 
 cation between his two friends, ' I'll tell yiz what 
 I'll do. I'll sind over for I'rank Doolin to-morrow, 
 lie's a second cousin once removed o' my mother, 
 an' he'll come settle all wid ould Hardrade.' 
 
 Next day Frank Doolin obeyed the summons of 
 his relative, and trotted a distance of nine miles on 
 his little nag on his mission of friendship. Hard- 
 rade lessened his demand on it represented that 
 young Nowlan wished to retain as much as would 
 pay the expenses of his father's funeral, but when 
 the young man had discharged this debt he was not 
 owner of a single shilling. 
 
 Doolin looked sorrowfully at poor Nowlan, ' I 
 tell you what, Andy,' said he, ' write to your uncle 
 in America for assistance to bring you out, an' come 
 over to my place till spring, an' sure I won't defraud 
 you out of whatever wages you can earn.' 
 
 « • • * # * 
 
 Young Nowlan gradually lost, in the various em- 
 ployments on Doolin's farm, every deeper trace of 
 his recent sorrow. If sometimes, indeed, an acci- 
 dental word or tone would recall the remembrance 
 of the dear ones gone, and if, on a .Sunday evening, 
 he would take a walk to his native parish, to drop 
 a silent tear upon their grave, this momentary gloom 
 was soon dispelled in the smile of Ellen Doolan. 
 She was the only child of his benefactor and a year 
 or so younger than himself. Her lips wore a smile 
 which, though wanting in none of woman's softness, 
 spoke a firmness and energy unusual in her sex. 
 Her black glossy locks were parted over a brow of 
 a mould in which was blended that mystic speaking 
 beauty that commands rather than invites our ad- 
 miration. But it was the large dark eyes that gave 
 the character to her countenance — eyes which re- 
 flected the shadowings of the soul that looked 
 through them, which changed with its changes, 
 sometimes filled with the soft meekness of love, and 
 again with the haughtiness of pride, now excited in 
 the pursuit of this world's interests, and now illum- 
 ed with a mild, angelic light, as if her glance pierced 
 to the life of the world beyond. 
 
 This spirit so haughty and yet so loving, was made 
 to exercise a deep influence over one of a temper 
 like Nowlan, naturally quiet and still more subdued 
 in the world's hard battle. And to her haughty 
 soul which could not bear contradiction, the young 
 man's child-like affection was enchantment, while 
 her generous heart loved to dwell on the tale of his 
 sad history. In a few weeks the young couple be- 
 came necessary to each other, they worked, laughed, 
 wept together. 
 
 ' Ithin bad cess to I'eggy Byrne,' she would say 
 to her mother, ' that dicbi't come over to put down 
 the seed and we in such a hurry gettin' in the pra- 
 tces, wid the sprini; a'most out ; what I was just 
 thinkin', mother, was that I ought to lave the shirts 
 here an' go out and help the setthers, for the min is 
 all idle.' 
 
 ' You have enough to do to stay widin' an' mind 
 the afl'airs o' the house like any daicint girl that can 
 afford it,' replies the mother; 'in throth I think 
 your father is sowin' too much o' thim rascally 
 pratces this year, afthcr they dcstroyin' the world.' 
 
 ' Thin the more need for more o' tliim to be sow- 
 in', as my father said to you tliis momin', an' begor 
 he won't be plaised whin Peggy did not come over. 
 I ought to go out to the field myself, ma'am, jist to 
 keep him in good humor.' 
 
 ' Slusha, child, you're not fit for workin' out ; 
 what notion is takin' you ; you're too delicate a 
 liagur.' 
 
 ' Too delicate urro ! arrah, mother, sure it's not 
 a lady's maid you're goin' to make o' me. Too del- 
 icate to work in the field in a busy saisou — Ha ! 
 here's Andy, and I hold you for sixpence it's comin 
 for me he is. Well, Andy, how are yiz goin' on out 
 there.' 
 
 ' Bad enough 'idout you, (in an under tone,) bad 
 enough 'idout Peggy Byrne that disapiiointed us to 
 day, an' Mr. Doolan is goin' out of his senses about 
 it, an' is sendm' me over for her.' 
 
 'Then you may spare yourself the trouble, for 
 I'm goin' out in her place, an' besides, I know Peg- 
 gy is workin' bcyant at Dawsons.' 
 
 ' Arrah more power to you,' says Andy, ' we are 
 all standin' idle for some body, an' sure it's your- 
 self that'll make us work in earnest.' 
 
 ' Wait, Andy, till I get my bonnet ; which would 
 yon like, my ould tuscan or the new sim bonnet ':' 
 
 'Troth you look well under cither o' them.' 
 
 ' Go out o' that you fiatterin' eologin' rogue, go 
 out o' that, I sav, — throth I'U break your mouth, — 
 you ugly — oh gracious.' 
 
 ' Nelly, don't hurt yourself, now,' shouted the 
 mother after her fond daughter, as she scampered 
 off to the field on her lover's arm. 
 
 Love comes like spring ! First, even in the cold, 
 a flower peeps np here and there, and then, myriads 
 decorate the lawn, — then is the music of the streams 
 and the wild dreamy rustling of the forest foliage — 
 then are showers and sunshine, and at last, even un- 
 known to ourselves, we arc lost in tlic fervid heat of 
 summer. And so in love, a warm glance excites a 
 warm emotion, soon our heart gives birth to more — 
 one whisper echoes for days, till at last an atmos- 
 phere born from our hearts rises, and matures the 
 hot passion in our brain. 
 
 • ••••• 
 
 It was a mild evening towards the end of May, 
 that -\ndy, after making one of those visits which 
 we have said he was accustomed to make to his 
 parents' grave, found himself by a happy chance, 
 of course, alone with Ellen Doolan. It was in the 
 haggard in the rear of the d\\ elling, and tlie young 
 man looking pensively around him, said, with an 
 air of embarassment wliich he attempted to conceal 
 by plucking a straw from a stack : — 
 
 ' Now that I'm goin' to America, I never thought 
 I'd be so sarry for lavin' Ireland.' 
 
 ' Sarry ! Arrah what 'ud make you sarry!' re- 
 plied Ellen, in a tone equally embarrassed. ' Well, 
 
 I declare that com is a'most destroyed — chopped iit 
 pieces wid thim villains o' mice, — Sarry how woj 
 you ! what have you to be sarry for r' 
 
 ' "l"is thrue,' said the young man, ' all belongin' 
 to me is laid in the grave ; but ' — he paused, 
 
 ' But what,' asked KlUn anxiously. 
 
 ' Oh, nothin'; I 'ony wish I'd gone to America 
 afore I kim to live here.' 
 
 •An sure we didn't take a bite out o' you — ha! 
 ha ! ha !' 
 
 ' Don't spake to me that way, now, Ellen,' y,M 
 the young man, somewhat reproachfully ; ' spak'- 
 softer to me, Nelly, you know I'm goin' away to- 
 night.' 
 
 ' Thin keep up a high heart ;' said the girl, still 
 preserving her forced manner, 'you're goin' to a 
 place where tliey say fortunes is aisy made, and 
 wlien you're there, you'll soon forget Ocha an' all 
 that's in it.' 
 
 ' Oh, no, no ; never, Nelly, never ; I couldn't 
 forget you, for your face is some how wonnd, en- 
 tangled in the chords iv my heart !' 
 
 'And oh, Andy,' exclaimed Ellen, relaxing her com- 
 pressed smile, and throwing herself suddenly into the 
 young man's arms, 'how will it be wid me whin you 
 are gone V 
 
 He pressed her alTcctionately to his bosom, and for 
 a few moments neither attempted to speak through 
 their sighs and tears. At last she murmured — 
 
 'How will it bo at our hearth whin you that are it's 
 only comfort have desarted it 1 Oh, I don't care for 
 anything now — I used to take delight in bein' out in 
 the flelils, but now I hate thim — aod tbf! young lambs 
 you minded for rac, Andy, an' that I was so fond of 
 for your sake, they may take an' kill them afore my 
 eyes !' 
 
 'I will work, work hard, Ellen, in America, an' 
 earn hat-fulls o' goold au' come homo and ask your 
 father for you.' 
 
 'An' why not ask him now V said the girl, bright- 
 ening up. 
 
 'I — a beggar — ask your father's child ? Oh, no, 
 Ellen.' 
 
 'We've enough for all, an you must stay.' Here she 
 wound her arms more closely around his neck, sob- 
 bing 'you must stay ; we'll not let you go away to a 
 strange land !' 
 
 'Arrah, childher,' said Mrs. Doolan, who now made 
 her appearance and lighted upon the young couple ac- 
 cidentally — 'Arrah, childher, is it cryin' yiz arc — och 
 it's on'y natural, but go in, Nelly ; you'll get cowld in 
 the fallia' dew.' 
 
 ' Come here, mother,' said the daughter, looking 
 with her dark eyes full upon her mother, 'come hero; 
 say now, will we let Andy go ?' 
 
 The mother, who readily divined the cause of licr 
 daughtei's question, and who always feared to arouse 
 her haughty sjiirit, paused for a moment, somewhat 
 startled at her wild manner. 
 
 'No pause, mother ; do you see that sun ?' and the 
 girl extended her white arm towards the sun, which, 
 enveloped in a golden cloud, was dipping behind the 
 hdl — 'no pause ; do you see that sun f you must an- 
 swer before it sinks — will Andy leave our roof?' 
 
 'Oh, no, no, JJelly,' said the mother at last, 'not if 
 you like it, sure ; but we'll speak to your father about 
 it.' 
 
 Tlie acquiring of anything, whether knowledge or 
 wealth, creates a thirst in the mind that can never be 
 satialed. It was thus with Denny Doolan. Ho had 
 commenced life in humble circumstance, but by pni- 
 dence and industry, added to advantageous terms in 
 which he stood with his landlord, (rarely the ease with 
 the Irish peasant) he had amassed so considerable a 
 share of this world's goods as made him be looked 
 upon in the three surrounding parishes as a highly 
 respectable man. But though generous and honest, 
 Doolan loved to add more to his wealth, for he was 
 used to say, unless you still keep adding more, what 
 you have will soon waste aw.iy. Among the means 
 he had proposed to gratify himself in this respect, was 
 
IRISH MISCELLAlSr. 
 
 258 
 
 a rich nllinnco which ho hnd contemplated between his 
 dmitjhter and the son of a neighlioring farmer, whicli, 
 as it was nu advantageous match, gratiSod at once )iis 
 avarice and ail'cction. When therefore he heard of his 
 dau''htcr's strange wish that young Nowhtu shoukl 
 remain to share their fortunes, tlic worthy man was 
 nigh horrified to death, and though both motlier and 
 daughter threw themselves on their knees before Iiim, 
 it but the more excited his wrath, and he even went so 
 far as to hasten Nowlan's departure from the house. 
 Towards midnight, the young man, seeing his young 
 hopes withered, dci)arted alone on his long journey, 
 for he was a stranger in the locality, and none of his 
 acquaintances were there to bear him company even 
 for a few hours on his pilgrimage. Two hours after, 
 all Doolan's household were locked in repose. All but 
 I one. She arose, folded herself in her large dark man- 
 tle, and packed in a small portmanteau, a few of the 
 more necessary articles of female apparel. She stole 
 on tip toe to her parents' chamber. The white moon 
 smiled in on their features, stilled in the calmness o( 
 sleep. The rustling ivy without the window threw its 
 flickering sliadow on the counterpane, looking like a 
 crowd of little spirits hovering over the bed. She 
 knelt by the bedside. One hot tear from her burning 
 brain fell on tlie old man's grey locks — a soft kiss was 
 pressed to her mother's cheek, and she stole again 
 from the apartment as she had entered. 
 
 ****** 
 
 On, on the vessel walked, on the bosom of that 
 mighty flood, to which the red savage has given the 
 name of the Father of 'Waters. On one side a prairie, 
 decorated with myriads of flowers of every hue, and 
 breathing an atmosphere of perfume, stretched far as 
 the eye could reach out towards the setting sun. On 
 the otiier an undulating landscape covered with patches 
 of forest, from whose dales peeped white cities, where 
 a few years before had echoed the yell of the jaguar 
 and the war whoop of the Indian warriors. 
 
 On, on the vessel moved like a thing of life in the 
 world of life around. But there is a grim master on 
 her decks. The Demon of Pestilence has flown over 
 her and shaken the blast of death from his burning 
 wings. \\ ithin, a young man, wasted in an hour by 
 thf teiTible distemper, is stretched apparently in the 
 last agony of death. A young woman fondly grasps 
 his nock and bends over him to whisper those words of 
 comfort and hope which a love like hers could alone 
 suggest. 
 
 Andy awoke as if from a stupor into which he had 
 fallen. 
 
 ' Ellen,' said he, faintly, 'I know I'm goin' to die. 
 I seen a white hand in the clouds beckonia' me away ; 
 an' God's will be done !' 
 
 'God's will be done, Andy, asthore machree/ said 
 Ellen firmly, 'an' prepare to give y our sowl into His 
 hands.' 
 
 'I — I — will— oh I will, Ellen dar — ling,' faltered the 
 dying man, ' bckaise you bid me — an — an — thank God 
 r-EU — en — there's no sin — or — shame ' 
 
 'Oh no, no, no, my darling husband, nothia' but 
 what God an' the world have blessed.' 
 
 'An' — yet — Ell — en, I can't — die — die — oh God o' 
 marcy, must I die — an' lave the wife o' my heart alone 
 ib a sthrange land.' 
 
 ' Hush, Andy darlint ; don't think o' me now, think 
 om'y iv your own sowl:' 
 
 'Think iv you,' said ho with energy, 'think iv you, 
 who left house an' home to folly — oh God — to folly 
 mc — me — a beggar — to a strange land — think iv you — 
 with my last breath I'll breathe your name.' 
 
 •Peace Andy, don't bo strivin' to spake, 'twill on'y 
 weaken you the more, astliore.' 
 
 The ellbrt of the dying man to speak had exhausted 
 his strength and ho sunk back, apparently lifeless ; she 
 bent her check close to his, his heart still throl)bed, he 
 still breathed, and flrmly opening his eyes, he mur- 
 mured her name. She perceived that his last mo- 
 ments had arrived, and recited a prayer common in 
 her church ; the sounds so familiar fell upon his ear, 
 and his lips moved in .response. He made another 
 
 cflfort to speak ; her name was all poor Ellen heard, 
 
 and [iressing again her lips to his, caught his last sigh. 
 
 ****** 
 
 As the vessel neared the next town, the proud ban- 
 ner of the great Repuljlic was replaced by the black 
 ensign of Death. A few persons who had collected 
 on the wharf, seeing the standard of the grim king, 
 hurried away from the spot. One man, an Irishman, 
 Jack Nowlan, who by appointment had come to meet 
 his nephew, had after some hesitation summoned up 
 courage to board the boat. In reply to his inquiries 
 he was directed below, and hn the middle deck picked 
 his way tlu'ough scores of lurid corpses strewn miscel- 
 laneously around. In one end of the boat, a beam of 
 tlie hot sun fell in through a port-liole over the features 
 of two corpses which even in death bore a smile of 
 surpassing beauty. One was that of a male, and was 
 stretched out on the bare plank, the other that of a 
 female, which leaned affectionately against its com- 
 panion. Her long dark locks straggled back behind, 
 her cheek pressed fondly against his brow, one arm 
 was clasped around his neck, and the other, bare and 
 glancing in the sunbeam, was thrown tenderly over his 
 bosom. A large dark mantle partially covered the 
 corpses, and in its drapery the visitor found a slip of 
 paper which had apparently fallen from her bosom. 
 It set forth that they both, Andrew Nowlan and Ellen 
 Doolin, had at New Orleans been married, but that 
 morning, and so concluded in the usual phraseology 
 of such documents. 
 
 'Poor craythurs,' said Jack, good-naturedly, wiping 
 his eyes, 'they thought it would be a happy marriage, 
 but it was a Bridal of Death.' 
 
 Great Clock. — Henry C. Wright, in a letter to 
 the Liberator, thus describes the great clock in the 
 Cathedral of Strasburg : — 
 
 ' The priests and military have retired, and I am 
 now sitting in a chair facing the gigantic clock — 
 from the bottom to the top not less than 100 feet, 
 and about 30 feet wide and 15 feet deep. Around 
 me are many strangers waiting to see the working 
 of this clock as it strikes the hour of noon. Every 
 eye is upon the clock. It now wants five minutes 
 to twelve. The clock has struck and the people are 
 gone, except a few whom the sexton or head man, 
 with a wand and sword, is conducting round the 
 building. The clock has struck in this way : The 
 dial is some twenty feet from the floor, on each side 
 of which is a cherub, or little boy, with a mallet, 
 and over the dial is a small bell ; the cherub on the 
 left strikes the first quarter, that on the right the 
 second quarter. Some fifty feet over the dial, in a 
 largo niche, is a huge figure of Time, a bell in his 
 left, a scythe in the right hand. In front stands a 
 figure of a young man with a mallet, who strikes 
 the third quarter on the bell in the hand of Time, 
 and then turns, and then glides, with a slow step, 
 round behind Time, comes out an old man with a 
 mallet, and places himself in front of him. 
 
 As the hour of twelve comes, the old man raises 
 his mallet, and deliberately strikes twelve timefe on 
 the bell, that echoes through the building, and is 
 heard all round the region of the church. The old 
 man glides slowly behind Father Time, and the 
 young man comes on readily to perform his part, as 
 the time comes round again. Soon as the old man 
 struck twelve and disappeared, another set of ma- 
 chinery is put in motion some twenty feet higher 
 still. It is thus : there is a high cross with the 
 image of Christ on it. The instant twelve is struck, 
 one of the apostles walks out from behind, comes in 
 front, turns, facing the cross, bows, and walks on 
 around to his place. As he does so, another comes 
 out in front, turns, bows and passes in. So twelve 
 apostles, figures as large as life, walk round, bow, 
 and pass on. As the last appears, an enonnous 
 cock, perched on the pinnacle of the clock, slowly 
 flaps its wings, stretches forth its neck, and crows 
 three times, so loud as to be heard outside of the 
 
 church for some distance, and so naturally as to be 
 mistaken for a real cock. Then all is as silent as 
 death. No wonder this dock is the admiration of 
 Europe. It was made in 1571, and has performed 
 these mechanical wonders ever since, except about 
 fifty years when it stood out of repair.' 
 
 Or WHAT Stdfp Nobility is sometimes Madf. 
 England is a pure aristocracy, says the Albany Times. 
 It prides itself upon the legitimacy of the blood of its 
 royalty and nobility. It contemns the idea that base 
 blood has ever been permitted to enter the veins of its 
 aristocracy. But not all the laws of men can prevent 
 the course of nature, nor can the utmost safeguards 
 avoid the chance of a commingling of base natures 
 with high-born tastes and inclinatious. The record of 
 tlie genealogy of its nobility may show a pretty clean 
 record and a general freedom from the admixture of 
 base ingredients, but now and then history and tradi- 
 tion point to a ease in which the rule and law of high 
 words has been broken in upon and violated. 
 
 The following curious and historical fact strongly 
 illustrates this point. Aside from that consideration 
 the ease is one full of romance. 
 
 The wife of the celebrated Lord Clarendon, the au- 
 thor of his History of the Rebellion, was a Welsh pot- 
 girl, who being extremely poor in her own county, 
 journeyed to London to better her fortune, and be- 
 came a servant to a brewer. While she was in this 
 humble capacity, the wife of her master died, and hap- 
 pening to fix his affections on her, she became his 
 wife. Himself dying soon after, left her heir to his 
 property, which is said to have amounted to between 
 £20,000 and £30,000. Among those who frequented 
 the tap at the brewery, was a Mr. Hyde, then a poor 
 barrister, who conceived the project of forming a mat- 
 rimonial alliance with her. He succeeded, and soon 
 led the brewer's widow to the altar. Mr. Hyde being 
 endowed with great talent, and now at the command 
 of a large fortune, rose in his profession, became the 
 head of the Chancery Bench, and was afterwards the 
 Hyde, Earl of Clarendon. The eldest daughter, the 
 offspring of this union, won the heart of James, Duke 
 of York, and was married to him. Charles II. imme- 
 diately sent for his brother, and having first plied him 
 with some very sharp raillery on the subject, finished 
 by saying, 'James, as you have brown, so you must 
 drink,' and commanded that the marriage should be 
 legally ratified and promulgated. Upon the death of 
 Charles, James II. mounted the throne, but a prema- 
 ture death frustrated this enviable duchess. Her 
 daughters, however, were Mary, the wife of William 
 II., and Queen Anne, both grand-children of the cide- 
 vant pot-girl from Wales, and wearing in succession 
 the crown of England. 
 
 The Gulf Stream. — Lieut. Maury thus forcibly 
 describes the Gulf Stream : — 
 
 ' There is a river ill the ocean. In the severest 
 droughts it never fails, and in the mightiest floods 
 it never overflows. Its banks and its bottom are of 
 cold water-, while its current is of warm. The Gulf 
 of Mexico is its fountain, and its mouth is the Are- 
 tic Seas. It is the Gulf Stream. There is in the 
 world no other such majestic flow of water. Its 
 current is more rapid than the Mississippi or tlie 
 Amazon, and its volume more than a thousand times 
 greater. Its waters, as far out from the Gulf as the 
 Carolina coasts, are of an indigo blue. They are so 
 distinctly marked, that the line of junction with the 
 common sea water may be traced by the eye. Often 
 one half of the vessel may be perceived floating in 
 Gulf Stream water, while the other half is the com- 
 mon water of the sea, so sharp is the line and the 
 ■want of affinity between these waters; and such 
 too, the reluctance, so to speak, on the part of those 
 of the Gulf Stream to mingle with the common 
 waters of the sea. 
 
 Hope, is the blossom of happiness ; gratitude, th 
 memory of the heart. 
 
2I>4 
 
 IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 A DANii't Comb n> Jiiuimknt.— Mr. Mnckny, 
 a gentleman from the other side of the water, and 
 a man who writes poetry, has been lecturing in the 
 State* and Canada on the poets of Englanil, Ire- 
 land and Scotland.— At a leetiire in Tonuito the 
 other evening, he reported to have said tliiit 'Ire- 
 land'a jioet has yet to be born !' 'We are always 
 prepared to hear precisely such sentiments from one 
 who is himself by nature an unmitigated toady, and 
 one who has been tilled with vanity, absolutely to 
 bursting, by the folly of toadies on this side of th 
 water. Charles Mackay may be a poet, and has 
 doubtless written a fnw verses which might pass for 
 genuine poetry, but he has also written more trash 
 in that line than any other man whoever claimed 
 the homage of American flunkeys, except, perhaps, 
 TupjK'r, of I'roverbial I'hilosophy notoriety. Jlac- 
 kay i:iui\t: over here to be touded and to take advan- 
 tage of the llunkeyism of such persons as belle Urit- 
 ian, and others, to make money. AVe hope he has 
 Bucceeded, and in that event he will return to Eng- 
 lend and write a book, in which we shall be only 
 moderately abused ; but if he has failed— why, we 
 shall catch it— thot's all. We need no better evi- 
 dence of such a man's incapacity to form a correct 
 opinion of our own institutions, than the evidence 
 ■which the above remark shows of his entire igno- 
 rance of Irish literature. It is a well known tact 
 that the literary supremacy of the British Empire 
 culminated in the reign of Queen Anne, and long 
 since passed out of English hands. During the past 
 century it has resided in Scotland and Ireland, while 
 even Wales has contributed no small share to the 
 general wealth of English literature. The man who 
 says that Ireland's poet is yet to he bom, is either 
 a downright fool, or an insufferable egotist, such as 
 wc take Charles Mackay to be. As well might he 
 say that the sun of Italy is yet to rise. Why, Ire- 
 land is a nation of poets. Toor and degraded as 
 many of them are, we will do them the justice to 
 gay, that among no people in the world are poetical 
 ideas so common, and poetical language so much a 
 matter of every day use as in Ireland. AVe hazard 
 the assertion that any one of our free and independ- 
 ent electors who hails from the bog, will let drop 
 in one hour's conversation, more real gems of poetry, 
 than Charles Mackay and his flunkeys ever dreamed 
 of penning. There is no necessity for specifjing 
 any particular Irish poet to show the absurdity of 
 Mackay's sentiment. The whole land is filled with 
 poetry and song, and better poetry and richer song 
 than ever emanated from the darkness of a London 
 fog. The poetry of Ireland is just beginning to be 
 appreciated. Her dramatists, novelists and states- 
 men, have long since been acknowledged, and when 
 the writing's of Charles Mackay will have been 
 swept away among the rubbish of the nineteenth 
 century, into the waters of oblivion, the name of 
 Tom Moore will be as familiar wherever the English 
 language is spoken, as a household word. — Buffalo 
 Express. 
 
 MISCELLANEA. 
 
 Sebfdox is Rt'ssi.v. — A report lately presented 
 to the Emperor Alexander, contains the following 
 statistical returns relative to landed property and 
 serfs in Uussia : The number of families who are 
 landowners amounts to 127,000. Out of these 2000 
 possess from 1000 to 10,000; 2000 from 500 to 1000; 
 18,000 from 100 to 500; 30,000 from 21 to 100; and 
 7a, ODD have less than 2 1 . The total number of peas- 
 ant serfs of the nobility amount to 11,750,000, 
 and those of the Crown to 9.000,000. There are 
 therefore 20,750,000 persons anxiously waiting for 
 an improvement in their condition. 
 
 An auctioneer, at a sale of antiquities, put up a 
 helmet, with the following candid obsciration — 
 'Tills, ladies and gentlemen, is a helmet of Romul- 
 us, the Koman founder ; but whether he was a brass 
 or iron founder, I cannot tell.' 
 
 A lawyer asked a Dutchman in court, whot ear- 
 marks a pig had that was in dispute. ' Veil, he has 
 no ear-marks except a very short tail.' 
 
 An exchange has discovered that Scottische is a 
 corruption of the words ' Scotch itch,' and that the 
 famous dance owes its name to a person afflicted 
 with the Scotch plague aforesaid. 
 
 ' You'll have to bear the responsibility,' said a 
 mother to a bright eyed young daughter of our ac- 
 quaintance, who thought of marrying without the 
 maternal approbation. • I expect to bear several, 
 ma,' said Fanny. 
 
 ' Ah, Mr. Simpkins. we have not chairs enough 
 for our company,' said a gay young wife to her fru- 
 gal husband. 
 
 • I'lenty of chairs, ducky ; but a little too much 
 company, replied Mr. Simpkins. 
 
 Among the numerous casualties recently detailed, 
 the following is very melancholy , 'The young man 
 who went on a bridal tour witli an angel in book 
 muslin, has returned with a termagant in hoops.' 
 
 ' Now, spos'n you was going to be turned into an 
 animal,' says Jem, ' what would you like to be Bill r' 
 ' Oh, I'd like to be a lion,' replied Bill, ' because 
 he's so .' 'Oh, no, don't be a lion, Bill,' inter- 
 rupted little Tom, who has had some recent painful 
 experience at school ; ' be a wasp, and then you 
 can sting the schoolmaster.' 
 
 A AVestem pettifogger once broke out in the fol- 
 lowing indignant strain : — 
 
 ' Sir, we're enough for ye, the hull of ye. Me and 
 my client can't never be intimidated nor tyrannized 
 over; mark that ! And sir, just as sure as this court 
 decides against us, we'll file a writ of propagander, 
 sir, and we — ' 
 
 Here he was interrupted by the opposite cousel, 
 who wanted to know what he meant by a writ of 
 propagiuidcr. 
 
 ' Slean ! A\'hy, sir, a writ of propag,inder is a — a, 
 its a — wal — wal, I don't jis remember the exact word, 
 but its what'U knock thunder out of your one-horse 
 courts, anyhow.' 
 
 A Southern gentleman owned a slave, a very in- 
 telligent fellow, who was a Universalist. On one 
 occasion he illustrated the intellectual character of 
 his religion in the following manner : — 
 
 A certain slave had obtained a licence of the Bap- 
 tists to preach. He was holding forth in the pres- 
 ence of many of his colored brethren, at one time, 
 when he undertook to describe the process of Adam: 
 
 ' He stoop down, scrape up a little dirt, wet a lit- 
 tle, warm it a little in his hands, and squeezes it the 
 right shape, and den lean it up against de fence to 
 dry — ' 
 
 Top, dere,' said our TTniversalist darkey, ' you 
 say dat are de fustest man eber made !' 
 
 ' Sarten !' said the preacher. 
 
 'Den,' said the other, 'just tell a fellar whar dat 
 ar fence came from :' 
 
 Hush,' said the preacher, two more questions 
 like dat would spoil all the feology in de world !' 
 
 A good story is told of a Bostonian's first appear- 
 ance in polite society in Arkansas, which might be 
 applicable to this city: — 
 
 The company were engaged in dancing, but the 
 loveliest female present occupied a chair near the 
 window without a partner. Stepping up to the la- 
 dy with a palpitating heart, his mind greatly agita- 
 ted for fear of a refusal, he exclaimed: 
 
 ' Will you do me the honor io grace me with your 
 company for the next set r' 
 
 Her lustrous eyes shone with unwonted brUhancy, 
 while her pearly teeth glistened in the flickering 
 candle light, her full snowy bosom rose and fell with 
 joyous rapture as she replied : — 
 
 Yes-sir-ree ! for I've sot, and sot, and sot, till 
 I've bout tuk root i' 
 
 ADVERTISEMENTS. 
 
 SUBSCUIUE! SUBSCUIBE! SUBSCIUBEI 
 
 THE IRISH MISCELLANY 
 
 PICTUKE GALLEHY. 
 
 IWDUCEMENTS TO NKW SUDBCRIDEIU!. 
 
 On Saturday, the 3(1 of. July next, we Kliall present to 
 each nubHCriher tv thi' Irish ric'luriul Mjscclluliy, a i.|ilt'lidid 
 Litho^riiphic Kiiffruving, repreM-'iiliiiK thf gluriuuit hceiie, 
 which occurred shorllv Lelore tlic cu|ilure of I.lnifrick, 
 wheu iieiierul .SarKlkdu, who cuntmundi-d the Irihh hurve, 
 huviii^ leunicd that u hir^e Hupply uf ht'uvy ^L■j^'L' f^uw* uas 
 on the way to the cninp of t!ie I'riuce of Oraiif^e, n-t'olvc'd 
 tocuplure them. CruNjiU}; over the cuuntry by a ditlicuk 
 and circuitous rout, so nt* to iuterccpt the couvoy, lie came 
 up ill I'ruut of it ut Killuuuiimiiiia, attaclcfd Wiltiuin'i 
 troops, deleutcd tliem niid coliipcdied tlieui to retreat butorc 
 tliu Iriiih horse, leaving their artillery iu tlie bauds of i?ar». 
 Held. 
 
 lliivinj; to rejoin the garrison at Limerick, Sarsfield knew 
 it would be impossible to carry witli him tlie tieavy Knj(- 
 lisli KuiiK lljruuKli iIm' niouiiluiii |>usm's. and determined to 
 destroy lliiiii. il<- onl.red Ihi-m to be cliurncd to tliiir ut- 
 most c'apucily, and iliibuddeil deeply ill the eartli, with the 
 wliolu «l till- but;|;u);L' train, lyjiieh also lull into Ids hauda. 
 A train beiii;,' laid. iTie spark was applied and in a few sec- 
 onds the sei);e artillery of William was shattered iuto innu- 
 merable fragments This gallant feat astonished the Eng- 
 lish troops, gaye new courage to the Irish, and added to 
 the great poimlarity of the gallant Isarstield. The explo- 
 sion shook the '^artti for miles around, and was heard at aa 
 immense distance. 
 
 It is at the moment of the explosion of the English ar- 
 tillery which our artist has uiczed upon J'or the subject oj 
 
 his I 
 
 This memorable event will be faithfully and accurately 
 portrayed. It has not hitherto, given inspiration, as lar aa 
 we can learn to any of our Irish artists, and shall now have 
 amble justice done it. It will make a beautiful picture. 
 We shall present it to our readers on a sheet of tine draw- 
 ing paper, separate from the 3Iib'cellany, fcuitable for 
 framing. 
 
 It will at once be seen that we cannot do this without a 
 great outlay of capital. We expect to be reimbursed by a 
 very large addition to our subscription list, as no person 
 will be entitled to it who has not paid on or before the Sd 
 of July next one years' subscription in advance, dating 
 from our first number. 
 
 ^'oii subscribers will be supplied at Sl,50 for each plate. 
 
 We are resolved that our subscribers shall possess a 'pic- 
 ture gallery' worthy of the events we propose to commem- 
 orate. This will be the first of a series ol katiosal pic- 
 TuuEswe propose presenting gratis to our regular subscrib- 
 ers the second picture of the series will be ready earlv in 
 October, the subject of which is not yet decided on. AVe 
 should teel obliged to any of our friends who possess old 
 pictures of remarkable events in Jrish history, or portraits 
 of distinguished Irishmen, to forward them to us. Tbcy 
 shall be taken good cure of. and returned. 
 
 Let our friends see to their subscriptions in season. Our 
 Picture Uallery will be lit to adorn the walls of any gentle- 
 man's house in the country, and will, we hope, eventually 
 supersede the wretched daubs which arc often met with. 
 
 Our arrangements for the first picture are almost com- 
 pleted. It will be absolutely necessary that we should 
 know immediately the number of plates we shall want, 
 i^et our subscribers therefore, send in their subscriptions 
 without delay, and be carelUl to give us their correct ad- 
 dress. We shall not strike ofl" any more copies than are 
 ordered before the above date. 
 
 Will our tricnds of the press please notice this new fea- 
 ture in our publication, and we will lake care that their 
 sanctums are adorned witli choice copies of this national 
 picture. 
 
 FINE READY MjVDE CLOTHIXG 
 
 — ASD— 
 
 CUSTOM TAILORING. 
 
 SriUKG OVERCOATS, 
 
 IILSINESS COATS, 
 
 FROCK AND DRESS COATS, 
 
 PAKTS AKD VESTS, 
 Good, Stvlish, Well Made Garmexts, 
 Such as meu of taste and good judgment will wear, can at 
 all times be found at our store. 
 Our aim is to produce for our customers the best Ready 
 Made Garments at the lowest i-ossiule riucES fob 
 CA.SII. 
 
 Readers of this Journal arc earnestly solicited to exam- 
 ine our goods before purchasing. 
 
 J A . S M I T U & C O., 
 
 Dock Suuauh, coumui Elm Street. 
 myll tf 
 
 WILLIAM K. O'BRIEN, 
 
 77 TUIBD avende, kew tore. 
 
 —Manufacturer of— 
 
 LOOKING-GLASS, PORTRAIT 
 
 AND 
 
 PICTURE FRAMES, 
 
 Wliolrsale and Rilail. 
 
 Oil raintings and Engravings framed and varnished. 
 
 Orders promptly executed, packed and 8hij)ped to any part 
 
 myn of the country. 3m* 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 265 
 
 ADVERTISEMENTS. 
 
 GENEKAL TICKET OFFICE 
 
 — FOU THK — 
 
 SOUTHERN AND WESTERN STATES, 
 
 AND 
 
 THE CAXADAS, 
 No. 2 Albany Stueet, Boston. 
 
 EUWAKD IIYAN, Afient. 
 
 N. B.— rassage to and ft-oiu Liverpool, and Bills of Ex- 
 chauge ou Euglaud, Ireland and ycothmd. 
 
 aii24 ly 
 
 SOUTH END CATHOLIC BOOK STOllE, 
 
 And Depot for the Sale of the 
 
 METROPOLITAN AND YOUTHS' MAGAZINES. 
 
 WILLIAM KEATING, Agent, 
 
 8 1-2 Harrison Avenue, or at bis New Periodical Store, 176 
 
 Harrison Avenue, Boston, Mass., 
 
 Where a great variety of the most popular Books and 
 
 I'apers cam be had at the very lowest prices, 
 
 WILL supply Clubs, Agents, Canvassers, &c.. on the 
 same terms as the I'ublishers. The following are 
 the terms— 3 copies will be sent by mail, to one address, tor 
 one year S5; G copies for $10; 13 copies for ©20; 20 copies 
 for S30. 
 
 lET" On the receipt of S3, three copies of the Catholic 
 Youth's Magazine and one copy of the Metropolitan will 
 be mailed regularly tor one year. 
 
 (T?" A few sets of the Magazines from the beginning, can 
 be had of the Agent. Also, all new books furnished as 
 soon as i)ublished. ap24 3mos 
 
 BURNHAM, (formerly junior partner in the firm of 
 BmixuAM BltOTliKES,) has taken the Old Stand, 58 
 
 Ye Antique Booke Store still ilourisheth, 
 Asytte dide in days of yore; 
 
 And ye Bitiinham still catereth 
 For ye lovers of ancient lore. 
 al7 
 
 SAMUEL MASURY. 
 
 PHOTOGRAPH AND DAGUERREOTYPE 
 
 A li T I S T . 
 
 289 Washington Street, 
 
 (Up one flight of stairs) 
 
 Boston. 
 Photographs taken of every size and finished in Oil, Wa- 
 ter, India Ink and Pastel Colors. Daguerreotypes taken in 
 the most superior manner. myl 
 
 THE IRISH VINDICATOR, 
 
 A WEEKLY NEWSPAPER, 
 
 The Best and Cheapest Published in Amekica. 
 
 MOST WONDERFUL SUCCESS, 
 
 and has been pronounced by the Press and the Public to be 
 
 superior to any other Irish Weekly in the United States. 
 
 It contains each week, the very 
 Latest News d-rom evert County in Ireland ; 
 Original and entertaining 
 STORIES AND ANECDOTES, 
 and a variety of Sliscellaneous Reading matter, of a charac- 
 ter which cannot fail to elevate and chasten the intel- 
 lectual ajipetite. The Irish Vindicator is devoted 
 
 TO THE INTERESTS OF IRISHMEN IN AMERICA, 
 and is so cheap as to be witliin the reach of the poorest. 
 
 ONLY THREE CENTS A COPY. 
 
 the following are the terms 
 
 To any part of the United States, for one year, S1.50 
 
 Do. do. do. ■ for 8 months, 1.00 
 
 Do. do. do. for 4 months, 0.00 
 
 Do. do. do. for 1 month, 0.12 
 
 To any part of Canada or the British I'rovinces, one year, 
 
 S2,(X)— All payments in advance. 
 
 FOR ADVEUTISIKG, 
 
 12 lines, single insertion $1.00 | 12 lines, 1 month, S2.50 
 
 12 do. 3 months, 5.50 | 12 do. 1 year, 10.00 
 
 Published every week, at the Office, No 10 Spruce street, 
 
 New York, by the I'ronrietor, 
 
 NORTHERN HOUSE, 
 
 north SQUARE— boston. 
 
 JOHN GLANCY Proprietor. 
 
 Thi.'' House has rooms equal to any first class Hotel, and 
 permanent or transient Boarders can he accommodated 
 nearly one half cheaper than at any other House in the 
 City. 
 
 In the Reading Room can be found afl the morning and 
 evening papers, and periodicals of the day, together with 
 an extensive Libi^ary, for the free and exclusive use of 
 
 the lioARDERS. 
 
 N. B. Strangers visiting Boston, can always Ond this 
 House a Uu.ue. 
 
 AMUSEMENTS. 
 
 BOSTON THEATRE. 
 Thomas Barry, Lessee and Manager. 
 
 Doors open at 7; Performance commences at 7 1-2 o'clock 
 Prices of admission— Private Boxes .Ifli; Parquette, Bal- 
 cony and IbtTier 60 cts; Family Circle 25 cts; Amphithea- 
 tre 15 els. 
 
 PBOSPECTUS. 
 
 BOSTON MUSEUM. 
 W. n. S.MITH, stage Manager. 
 
 Open for the production of Tragidies, Comedies, Spec- 
 tacles, Farces, &c. 
 Exhibition Hall opens at 6 1-2; commences at 7 1-2. 
 Admission 25 cents ; Reserved Seats 60 cents. 
 
 ; HOWAKD ATHENiEUM. 
 
 JAC0« Barrow, Lessee and Manager. 
 
 Henry Wallack, Stage Manager. 
 
 The Grand Combination every night 
 Doors open at 7; Performance commences at 7 1-2. 
 Dress Boxes 75 cts; Circle boxes 60 cts; Parquette 50 cts; 
 Orchestra 75 cts; Upper Boxes 25 cts; Gallery 13 cts. 
 
 GILMORE'S SALEM QUADRILLE BAND. E. UP- 
 TON, Jr., Prompter. Apply to P. S. GiLMOEE, Es- 
 sex House, Salem, Mass. 3m feblS 
 
 o 
 
 JOHN MITCHEL'S LETTEllS 
 
 N the attempted Kevolution in Ireland in 1848, and the 
 causes which led thereto, are repuhlished exclubively 
 in the 
 
 IRISH AMERICAN. 
 
 Publication Office, No. 32 Beekman street, New York. For 
 sale by all news dealers. Price three cents per copy. Sub- 
 scription Srl.oO per annum. 4wmy22 
 
 WILLIAM D. PARK, 
 SHADES HOTEL, 
 
 NO. 2 MORTON PLACE, 
 
 BOSTON. 
 
 BS. TREANOR, ATl'ORNEY and COUNSELLOR 
 • AT LAW, 15 Massachusetts Block, Court Square, 
 Boston. 
 
 0=-Particular attention paid to Conveyancing, and the 
 examination of titles of Real Estate. febl3 
 
 PASSENGER CEKTIFICATES. 
 
 TO OLD COUNTRYMEN. Owen Mo Namara has 
 Passage Certificates and Drafts always on hand and 
 for sale. As he does business for that most respectable 
 house. (Williams & Guion) in New York. Old Countrymen 
 desiring to send for their friends, or remit money, would 
 do well to give him a call atNo. 4Gokham St.. opposite 
 Summer St., Lowell, Mass. ap2tf 
 
 DO'ROURK E, respectfully informs his friends and the 
 • public, that he keeps constantly ou hand COFFINS 
 01 all sizes and kinds, ut his Coffin Manufactory, No. 34/ 
 Federal, between Beach and Kneelaud Streets, Bostou, 
 which lie will sell as reasonable as can be bought at any oth- 
 er place in the city. . , 
 
 N. B.— Orders punctually attended to, day or night. 
 
 Residence, No. 28 South street, Bostou. 
 
 OfT^Cirave-Clothes furnished to order at short notice. 
 
 Iebl3 t . 
 
 THE SOUTHERN CITIZEN, 
 
 IS published weekly at Knoxville, Tennessee, by JOHN 
 MITCHELL & \VM.G. SWAN, at *2 per annum, or 
 S;l for SIX months, payable invariably in advance. 
 
 Mr. Mitchell having comuR-m-Ld in the ::stli number of 
 the paper, a series of Letters addiL-^^ed to the Hon. Alex- 
 ander 11. Steplieus of Georgia, which when completed will 
 furnish an eutirc history of 
 
 THE IRISH TROUBLES OF 1848, 
 With their Causes and Consequences, 
 The Southern Citizen will be the more interesting to both 
 American and Irish readers. JIcmiIcs iIum- i-untrihulions 
 from Mr. Mitchcl, the Southern VUi/x-u uill coiilinu.tu 
 have its usual nuaiitity of original matter npDii political 
 and literary subjects preparea by him. The circulation, 
 though large and constantly increasing, the proprietors 
 have thought will be much more extended by an announce- 
 ment in tluH form. 
 
 {■(irnnntnicatious with remittances may be addresedto 
 Mitcliel & Swan, Knoxville, Tennessee, or to any of the 
 iullowiiig Agents: 
 
 S <_; Courtenay & Co, Charleston, S C; T'.iomas B O'Con- 
 nor, Savannah. Gn; .T C Morgan, New Orleans, La; Jns A 
 Gentry, OicbmoudjVa: Aiexnnder A.lain^on, Wa.^lnngton 
 citv; rallinage&Vunner. ( ineinnali.if; I'M Havertv. 110 
 Fiilton street. N V;S II ( i..ei,:'<*l. :j;; Uaiinliin street. .^I<lbile 
 Ala," Benj II Davis, Masonic BiiiUlinL', Montgomery, Ala ; 
 Ross & Touccy. 121 Nassau street, N \ , supply dealers only 
 upon reasonable terms; James McGiun, lal Kearney street 
 Sun Fraiicif^co. 
 
 % • CTubb of leu will he 8ui)plied with the paper for Wlu. 
 
 IRISH MISCELLANY. Prospectus. On Saturday th6 
 13th day of February 1808. was published the lirst 
 mumberofanew weekly periodical, with the above title, 
 dedicated to the dilluhiou of a more inlimute knowledge of 
 the literary and political history of Ireland, and to the 
 mental, moral and political elevation of the Celtic race oa 
 this continent. 
 
 The " /Ws/i Miscellanij" will contain IG pages of closely 
 printed matter, on line paper, of a t>i/e ^inlilar to thih pros- 
 pectus. Price 4 cents u copy, payable on (leli\ery ; or *2 a 
 year to mail subscribers — invariably in advance. 
 
 lu asking lor public support lor the lri.-.h Mixrf^llfiny, it is 
 proper to say, that it is not our intention to tlel■pa^M upon 
 the ground already uccupied by any ol our cuteiniiorarieB. 
 We have marked out lor uuiseives a cour.-e entiiely new and 
 original— one nul oceuj.ied by any other puhlieution in Ihia 
 country. We propose to cultivate a held which, ultliough 
 naturally rich and fertile, and capable of producing the 
 choicest flowers and fruits of literature, has hitherto lain 
 comparatively barren and unproductive. Into thisliuld we 
 shall enter with a full confidence of its capabilities, hut with 
 a modest diffidence of the skill which we shall bring to ita 
 culture. 
 
 It has lon^ been a reproach to our race here, that while 
 the publications of the day, witli but few exceptions, teem 
 with vile carricatures of us and of our coHutry— while we 
 are continually held up to public gaze as ever> thing that is 
 foolish, absurb and vicious — but little efiui-t is made to place 
 the true character of our people before the public eye. or 
 vindicate our name and race from the calumnies with wiilch 
 English hate everywhere pursues us. 
 
 To correct, in some measure, this crying evilj it was at 
 first intended to gather together a number of Irishmen dis- 
 tinguished in the walks ol literature, and publish monthly 
 a review, which, for sterling talent, should be second to 
 none published liere or in Enorpe. The great expense con" 
 sequent upon an undertaking of this magnitude, deterred us 
 from the attempt, compelled us to relinquish our design, 
 and to substitute instead thereof, our more uupretendmg 
 " Miscellanif.V 
 
 We proposie tore-produce in our weekly periodical the 
 writings of many of the great minds who have gone before 
 us, while we shall also cull from the current IrisU literatuer 
 of the day, such productions of merit as cannot fail to be 
 acceptible to our readers. Our country is rich iu legendry 
 lore, and the legends of the old laud, while they amu&e, 
 serve to instruct and to elevate. 
 
 We shall therefore publish such instructive tales and le- 
 gends of a high moral toue, that will remind us of the hap- 
 py times when we — 
 
 'Sat by the fire of a cold winter's night, 
 Along with our friends telling tales of delight.' 
 
 We shall give faithful descriptions and illustrations of 
 Irish antiquities — ot our ruined monasteries, our plundered 
 abbeys and churches^ and our pictorial illustrations of Irish 
 scenery and antiquities will present to loving minds many 
 familiar scenes of early childhood. We have secured the 
 services of talented artists, and each number of the Miscel- 
 lany will contain numerous illustrations executed in the 
 best style ©fart. 
 
 We shall keep constantly before our readers the ancient 
 glory of our country, and while we ponder with pride upon 
 the moral and intellectual superiority of Ireland, when 
 England and the rest of Europe was sunk in ignorance and 
 barbarism ; we shall point to the past as an incentive to the 
 future. 
 
 The biographies of distinguished Irishmen will be an im- 
 portant feature iu the Irish Miscellany, as we sliall give 
 biographical notices of Irishmen distinguished in every 
 department of literature, science and art— of men distin- 
 guished ontheseaaud ou land: iu the church the senate, 
 and at the bar. 
 
 It is our intention to republish the works of Irish writers 
 now out of print, in such a mauuer that they may be pre- 
 served to future time as a memento of the old land, and 
 serve to iucalculate, iu the minds of the rising generation, 
 a filial regard for the land of their fathers. 
 
 We propose commencing with the Dublin Penny Journal^ 
 a work which in its day enjoyed unbounded popularity. 
 We shall devote one half of the Mi5ce//a?iJ/ to each number 
 of that national publication. To do this we have ordered a 
 font of type in Irish characters, so that the poems printed 
 in that Jourual in the Irish language can he reprinted in 
 Irish characters with English translation in ours. Thia 
 department of the IWscellany will be in theliauds of an Irish. 
 
 pages of the MisctUany will be devo- 
 ted to the current news ot the day, to original articles, tales, 
 essays, poetry, &c. In politics we shall endeavor to avoid 
 those questions which have divided our countrymen, or 
 discuss them in a manner void of oifence. 
 
 The Irish Miscellany will be thoroughly independent of all 
 political parties — the slave of none- Such questions as af- 
 leet our countrymen here, we shall discuss with freedom, 
 and zealously labor for their moral, intellectual and politi- 
 cal elevation. 
 
 The editorial labors will be divided among several gentle- 
 men of ability, and we trust to make the fcrW/a/iy a wel- 
 come guest at the tireside of every family. With these re- 
 marks we commend our sheet to the support of every well 
 wisher of our race. We feel there is room for such a pub- 
 lication and promise that nothing shall be wanting ou our 
 part to make it worthy of public supjiort. 
 
 M. J. WALSH & CO., Publishers, 
 No. 4 Wateu Stueet, Bo.sT(.in. Mass, 
 
 (C^All Communications to the Editors of the Miscel- 
 lany nin.^t be addressed — 'Care ol M. J. Walsh & Co., 
 Publishers, Bostou. Mass.' 
 
 Lif liusti.n and N. York, 
 ■(I their lUcilities for Posting 
 
 rt. Lecture, 
 
 commodations, to wli 
 
 1 wagons to t 
 ch they give 
 
 ley give their personal 
 
 %*Thankful for past favors they would respectfully 60- 
 licit a continuance of public patronage. 
 
 KELLY & CUNNINGHAM, 2 Williams Court, 
 fcbl3 Boston 
 
 AWlLLTAJISfc CO., Wholesale Agents, for the Iki.sk 
 , Miscellanv. The Tiade supplied with Books, I'e- 
 riodicals and Newspapers. Special Agents for Harper & 
 BrotlH-rs Publications. No. lUO WoaUiugton street. 
 Ieb20 Boston. 
 
SIL^Hf, 
 
 nYLE'i 
 
 ^flcctci) fvprc5s!i) for % IrisI Pisctllaint, 
 
 POETRY BY THOMAS MOORE. ARRANGED BY SIR J. STEPHENSON, Mus. Doc. 
 
 } 
 
 IE 
 
 AIK.-MY DB.\R EVF.LEEV. 
 
 1 
 
 SONR OF FIONM'AIl*. # 
 
 
 :y^' 
 
 
 1. Si - luiii, Oil Moyle, be ilic ronr of thy waters; 
 
 
 
 ^: 
 
 :t;:: 
 
 Bivak not, yc brcc/.es, your clinin of repose, While mur - mur-ing mourn - ful - ly, Lir's lone - ly (laughter, Tells to the niglit-stiir her lule of woe.s. 
 
 
 ^i^lii 
 
 ti^ 
 
 . — — 1 — V-- rO 
 
 
 ^=ipi 
 
 zip1:-ii-p=:ppf3^z3iez^:=i.1i==:^?: 
 
 IT-i 
 
 :bzp— r: 
 
 ::zt:iz:5r:tiz:z=:1:: 
 
 
 xz ^l:i^_..,_.|tf_-^ — 
 
 When shall the swan, her death-note singing 
 
 Sleep, with wings in darkness furled, When shall heaven, its sweet bell ring-iiig, 
 
 
 9^:M^^E fc|Eg^j^s|: 
 
 :i=^i:Nr:]=: 
 
 __ _"'VT:qizzzzqr~~ii 
 
 :ii= 
 
 l^ 
 
 spirit from tliis storm - y world. 
 
 
 E:i!=: 
 
 5r=t: 
 
 ^Ef 
 
 
 
 
 r-r-?ff- 
 
 Sadly, Oh Moyle, to thy winter-wave weeping, 
 Fate bids me languish long ages away ; 
 
 Yet still in her darkness doth Erin lie sleeping. 
 Still doth the pure light its dawning delay. 
 
 -0 • .0. • -: 
 
 I I*- r 
 ii*» I 
 
 
 -^-o 
 
 t:t 
 
 :=:?=^. 
 
 Jf 
 
 Wlien will that day star, mildly spiinging. 
 Warm our Lslc with peace and love V 
 
 When shall heaven, its sweet bell ringing, 
 Call my spirit to the fields above. 
 
 I'liT nni?t therffoiv 
 liuridrt'J jcura over ccrl-ti 
 
 * To make thLS story intcHiirtWe in « sonij, would require a inileh greater number of vciwa than any one Li aulhorlz<"d to Inflict upon nn aucii.nce at 
 be content to learn in a note, tint Fionnuala, the .laughter of Lir. wa< t.y some supernatural power transfonncd int.i a Swan, and condemned to wander for many hundred >>"" ""f„f,";,'' 
 lat;e.< and riv,.rs in Irel.ind, tin the coming of Christianity, when the first snnn 1 of the Mass-bell Wiv» to be the .••iinial of her release. I found thiB luicifal flcUon among Bomo manuscrips 
 tinualatious from the IriaU, wUicb wer« IjeguD under the direction of that enliifhtened friend of Ireland, the late Couuteit^ of Moira. 
 
VOLUiME I— NUiMBER I7. ] 
 
 BOSTON, SATURDAY, JUNE 5, 1858. 
 
 [PRICE FOUR CENTS. 
 
 THE POET MOORE. 
 
 Ireland has done her duty in erecting 
 a statue to her great poet. His n\emo- 
 ry will endure as long as the h n cuage 
 in which he wrote, and assuredly his 
 best monument is his works; but it 
 was well that his country should give 
 expression to its gratitude. If Ireland 
 has been rarely ready with tributes to 
 its worthies, here at all events is one: 
 others may follow, and the heaviest of 
 its reproaches be thus, in time, re- 
 moved. 
 
 The introduction into the Miscellany 
 of an engraving from the statue of 
 Moore, by his namesake and country- 
 man C. Moore, M. K.. I. A., affords an 
 opportunity to offer some remarks con- 
 cerning one of the most estimable of 
 the many great men it has been our lot 
 to know; our readers will not consider 
 out of place such observations as may 
 occur to us, derived from the perusal 
 of his 'journal,' and from a personal 
 acquaintance which has long been 
 among the happiest and most refresh- 
 ing memories of our life. 
 
 If the dust of this charming poet, 
 companion and friend could be reani- 
 mate — and if the great man could read 
 all that has been written concerning 
 him since his death — he would record, 
 as a sad and solemn fact, the lines, 
 which perhaps he uttered only as a 
 Bjntiment — 
 
 'Who would not seek or prizo 
 Delights that cud in acliiug; 
 Who would trust to tit-a 
 That every hour are breaking.' 
 
 During his life the poet Moore was 
 truly 
 'The poet of all circles and the idol of bia 
 
 own,* 
 yet the 'vanity' so frequently and so 
 wrongfully atributed to genius, an I 
 which in him was so universally foster- 
 ed, was never apparent; while the play 
 of his expressive features, and the 
 sweet tones of his voice, rendered his 
 wit more fascinating, and his gentle 
 kindness more captivating; he was ev- 
 er anxious to make prominant the tal- 
 ents of others — ever seeming oblivious 
 of his o\vn: indeed Moore never forced 
 the personal pronoun into society — it 
 was always dilBcult* to induce him to 
 talk of himself, of what he said, or 
 did or wrote. 
 
 His stern independence might have 
 
 yielded to temptations such as few re- 
 ceive, and very few resist: he presen'ed 
 it to the last under circumstances such 
 as m.-iny of his great and wealthy 
 friends would have called 'poverty.' 
 Of luxuries, from the commencement 
 of his career to its close, he had liter- 
 ally none — his necesities were never 
 published to the world; nay, even nev- 
 er known to those who could, and per- 
 haps would have endeavored to make 
 them less. In all the relations of life 
 he was faithful, affectionate, and con- 
 siderate; 'at home' he was ever loving 
 and beloved: then he was happiest by 
 rendering his limited circle happy. 
 
 The biographers of poets are almost 
 proverbial for diminishing the giant to 
 the dwarf. With a few grand excep- 
 tions we find the loftiest precpts humili- 
 ated by the meanest examples ; social 
 intercourse degraded by frequent ine- 
 briation ; poverty callous to the ' glo- 
 rious privilege,' condescending to no- 
 toriety instead of suffering in solitude ; 
 60 mingling the vices with the virtues, 
 that worshippers eagerly draw the veil 
 over genius in private life, willing to 
 'make allowances,' and content with 
 the bare record — ' they are not as other 
 men are. 
 
 How few of the great men we have 
 known are heroes in their daily com- 
 munings ! 
 
 The poet Moore is one of the very 
 few of whom we may think, and speak, 
 without a blush. The ca^•ils and sneers 
 of those who do not or cannot under- 
 stand him, are limited to the crimes of 
 his dining with lords and delighting in 
 the courtesies of flatterers in rags. 
 
 Had he been a sensualist like ' 
 
 a drunkard like , a pitifiil bor- 
 rower like — , a truckler for place 
 
 like , critics might have been less 
 
 severe, and the world accorded to Iiim 
 purer justice. 
 
 How little do we know of t)ie inner 
 life of the author with whose works we 
 are familiar — every line. Those who 
 read the brilliant Melodies of the poet 
 Thomas Moore, give but small heed to 
 the man as he was ' at home.' Simple 
 as a child and as easily pleased as a child 
 with a toy; sympathising ever, and with 
 everything ; sensitive as are all whose 
 'spirits are finely strung,' and to ' fine 
 issues ;' generous in thought, and word 
 and act ; seeking and finding pleasure 
 
258 
 
 IKISIl MISCELLANY. 
 
 in all the common thin);ii of cartli, ■ the mcnncat 
 flower tlint blown ;' craciouii to nil within his reach 
 — to tho htimblc even nioK- than to the lofty iiulc- 
 pendent — as much do aa to any man who everlived ; 
 never borrowinj;, never tneurrinK poeuniar)' obliga- 
 tionH, never reiiuirinjj liixurieii; never possesniiiR 
 even a pony cnrriat-e, n->iiling ever either in lodging", 
 or a dwelling aniall and inexpen^ive, and rendereil 
 endurable only by ' order" and taste, lie preserved 
 his self-respcet ; bequeathing noimiperty, butlcnv- 
 ing no debts, having had no ' testimonial ' of ac- 
 knowledgement or reward— seeking none, nay, 
 avoiding any ; saeritieing what would have been to 
 liim wealth from a point of honor j and never lend- 
 ing to 'party' that which was meant lor ' mankind;' 
 his career from the beginning to the close wan a con- 
 tinued struggle with 'strHitened means' that was at 
 times embara.ssments j yet tlure was not only no 
 Bale of, but no -bid' for, tlmt true nobility of soul 
 which he kept unblemished from tho crudlo to the 
 grave. Thers is no blot upon his name, no word 
 of reproach can be written on the stone which cov- 
 ers ' the earth that wraps his clay.' No marvel that 
 such a man should have been loved almost to idol- 
 atry in his own imiiicdiale circle. Hut • .society ' 
 nothing of all this; and the readers of his poetry 
 knew as little. There arc, however, ufew by whom 
 the memory of 'riionius Moore is cherished in the 
 heart of hearts : to whom the cottage at Sloperton 
 will be a shrine while they live; and the village 
 church, the spire of which is seen from the gravelled 
 walk— his 'terrace walk," as he used to call it— a 
 monument better loved than that of the other sons 
 of genius by whom the world is enlightened, de- 
 lighted and retincd. 
 
 The statue we have engraved is the work of an 
 Irish sculptor, a namesake, but not a relation of the 
 poet. He has chosen a passage in the Diary of the 
 latter for the feeling Or sentiment intended that the 
 statue should convey; it is this :—• Having expa- 
 tiated more than enough on my first efforts in act- 
 ing and rhyming, I must try the reader's patience 
 with some account of my beginnings in music— the 
 only art for which, in my own opinion, I was born 
 with a real, natural love, my poetry, such as it is, 
 having sprung out of my deep feeling for music.' 
 Thus the poet is represcntctl, as if listening to the 
 air of one of those exquisite Irish melodies with 
 which he has made us all so familiar— listening, too, 
 as if the strains brought w itli them the very words 
 be has united to them. 
 
 The statue is erected oppo.sitc the House of Lords, 
 College street, Dublin : it is of bronze, and was cast 
 in the foundry of Messrs ElkingtonS: Co., Birming- 
 l>nm, who have idso, we believe, an establishment 
 in Dublin. 
 
 A TOUR TO CONNAUCHT. 
 
 LKTTIIU Vll. 
 
 To the Editor of the Dublin Penny Journal:— 
 
 Sir— The country from Tyrrell'spnss to Kilbeggan 
 is improved. Tho hills are generally well-timbered, 
 the low grounds arc ilraiiud.und gentlemen's seals are 
 to be seen on either side of ihc road. Due in particu- 
 lar caught my ottcniiun, as well remembered, having, 
 in my younger days enjoyed the hosi)italily of its then 
 owner. It has since more than once changed mas- 
 ters; on cniiuiring who now possessed it, I was in- 
 formed by one of my fellow iravelUrs. that its presinl 
 proprietor was not satislied with his bargain; and he 
 mentioned, as the eon)mon report of the countrv, how 
 an ingenious trick was played oil", in order to induce 
 him to cfTeet the purchase. 'The land,' said he, 'U 
 naturally very liglil— the upland a ilry, hungry gravel 
 — the lowland such as reclaimed bog gencrullv is, wet, 
 rushy, and inclined to return to its original unproduct- 
 iveness. The gentleman, struck with the licauliful 
 forms of tho grounds, and with the tostefid way in 
 which it was planted, appointed a time on which he 
 
 would come and view ihe house and land, and pruvi- I 
 ous to lliat day the owner proceeded to some neigh- 
 luiring fairs, and bought up some forly or lil'ty of iho 
 fatlest lieilers ho could meet — these were, of conrto, J 
 grazing on tho land the doy tho visitor arrived; ac- 
 cordingly, in passing along, ho put the ipiestion, 
 whether the land could provide good beef un<l niutlou i 
 for tho (able. 'My object, tir, is, if 1 take a country 
 place, to live wilhln myself, to go lo market for nolh- j 
 ing, to buy as liitle and sell as much as I can.' 
 'Kight, sir," says ihe owner, 'that is what 1 have al- 
 ways done — look yoniler, Jiray, tlio jiroof of llie pud- 
 ding may be in the feeding, as well as the eating; do 
 sir, come over wiih mo and handle a few of tl;c.-o 
 heifers — there is nice beef for you, lit for any nnirket 
 — not bettor made up cattle from this to Kells.' The 
 stralngem was successful — tho admiring gentleman 
 struck with such convincing prools of good hind, soon 
 concluded the bargain. But ala;! since ho became 
 possessed of the title deedii, he has never ycl been able 
 lo have a good sirloin on his table from his ground' 
 •Confound tho blockhead!' exclaimed a farming man, 
 who was listening to tho story, 'ho must have been 
 some soft cit to lie taken in so — could he not have 
 looked at the blackheads and fairy flax and the tra- 
 ncens, and they would have told him that he could not 
 expect a fat goose, let alone a fat cow, from such sun- 
 burnt hills.' 'Sir Henry I'iers, in bis account of 
 Weslmeath,' observed I, 'written IGO years ago, de- 
 scribes the inferior Westmeath farmers as follows: — 
 'The Scullogcs, which may bo Englished farmers, or 
 boors, are generally very crafty and subtle in all man- 
 ner of bargaining, lull of ciiuivocation and mental res- 
 ervation, especially in tlieir dealings in fairs and mar- 
 ket, where, if lying and cheating bo no sin, they make 
 it their work to ovcneach any one they deal with, and 
 if by slight or fetch they can hook in the least advan- 
 tage, they are mighty tenacious tliercof.' If tlie story 
 just told has any foiiiubilion, which I trust it has 
 not, this Westmeath genilcinim jilayed a very scuUoge 
 trick. 
 
 We now arrived at Kilbeggan, situated on the 
 Upper Brusna river, a small town, though before the 
 Union, returning two members to parliament. This 
 was in old times tho chief town of M'Gcoghegan's 
 country, and there were two religious establishments 
 here, one an abbey, founded by St. Bccean, a colem- 
 porary of St. Columbkille, and in the year liOO, an- 
 other religious hou.'-e, called the Abbey of the River of 
 God — why so called I have not ascertained, was 
 founded by the D'Alton family, under the invocation 
 of the Blessed Virgin; this was supplied with monks 
 from the Abbey of Mellifont, whoso mitred abbot 
 could ride straight forward on lands belonging lo bis 
 house, from the sea near Dioghcda to the Shannon. 
 In Elizabeth's reign, tho Dillon family had the prop- 
 erty of the suppressed abbey; in the following reign, 
 Oliver, I.ord Lambert was seized of the monastery 
 lands of the Blessed Virgin, and bis descendant, Sir. 
 Gustavus Lambert, is now in possession of the prop- 
 erly. I'assing rapidly through the town, some circum- 
 stances coDDceted with it came vividly to my recollec- 
 tion; the inn of the town I must remember as long as 
 I live — its tiikd landlady I well recollect — the Lady 
 Culfe; never did the fountain of honor play oft" such 
 ludicrous prank, as when it showered its spray on the 
 head of an innkeeper, yet so it was, when about sixty 
 years ago the Viceroy of Ireland dubbed mine host of 
 Kilbeggan a knight. Lord Townshend, the then lord 
 lieutenant, a man uddiclcd to the most dissolute hab- 
 its, and who, by the satirical writers of that doy, was 
 n presented as one perfectly regardless of pomp, dig- 
 nity, or parade — one, who as he walked the streets, 
 used to scatter his ribald jests among tlie common 
 pjuisengcrs, whose festivities were often degraded down 
 to disorder, and his recreations to indelicacy; be, on 
 occasion of a journey to Connaught, was, by some ac- 
 cident that occurred to bis cipiipage, obliged lo stop 
 at Kilbeggan for the niglit, and partake of such ac- 
 commodation, as Mr, Cnlle, the innkeeper, could af- 
 ford In those days good claret was not an unusual 
 tiling lo be bad even in small country inns; and it 
 
 so happened that Mr. Cufliu woa able to send D|f (omo 
 fowl and fUli well cooked and well served, and that 
 tho claret was in its boipiet and flavor adopted to hia 
 excellency's lasle; accordingly the great man unbent 
 liimscir amongst bis boon companions, so as while 
 losing fobriety, ho forgot diconini; and as he on an- 
 other occiuiion, introduced his fox-bounds into the 
 Council Chamber, now as a halfwitted baeehanaliaD, 
 he ordered the host lo make his appcarani r, and when 
 ho came into the presence, the viceroy, in an alfcctcdly 
 grave speech, returned hiiu thanks for his excellent 
 cheer, and announced that he would not rcpoy the ob- 
 ligation in any other but in conferring on him tho order 
 of knighthood; and accordingly, in spite of some of 
 the more sober of the parly, who remonstrated iigainst 
 this lu't of whimsical licentiousness, be actually forced 
 mine host to kneel down, and duly dubbing him in 
 proper phrase ami form, said — 'Kisc up iboii mirrorof 
 innkeepers, and he from henceforth .Sir Thomas Cufle.' 
 Tho astonisbment of the innkeeper may be well sup- 
 posed, as be returned to his wife lo inform her of her 
 new honors. Tho viceregal visitor, as usual, retired 
 to rest, utterly reckless of what ho had done, and rose 
 in the morning altogeiher foigeiiul, uniil reminded of 
 the transaction, of which, when informed, be was not 
 a little annoyed, but jilucking up courage, he said to 
 his aide-de-camp, 'It cerlainly was carrying ibe joko 
 too far, but curse the fellow, sure he will not take any 
 advantage of it. Cull him before mc, and I'll per- 
 suade him to hush up llie matter. Accordingly, tho 
 man was introduced — 'Mr. Cull'e," says his excellency, 
 'a eiieunistancc occurred last night, which I am sure 
 you understood in the proper light; it was, it is true, 
 carrying the joke too fur; I hope, sir, you feel as be- 
 comes you, and that you will say no more about it, 
 nor let the thing get wind. 'Oh! indeed, my lord, the 
 honor you have conferred on me, though I am right 
 sensible of its importance, is still what I, for one, 
 would have no objection lo forego, under a projjer con- 
 sideration, but, please your e.xcelleniy, what will my 
 Lady Cull'e say!' 
 
 The innkeeper and his wife were sir and my lady all 
 their lives. The man died long before I ever passed 
 through Kilbeggan, but I perfectly remember my Lady 
 CulVe. But the remembrance of an ennobled tavern 
 keeper is not what has fastcaed the inn so much on 
 my memory, as a still more personal occurrence; for, 
 be it known, and the part most eoncorncil tingles when 
 I tell it, I got the greatest kicking ever man got in 
 Lady Cull"o's yard. Blood of the O'Tools, where hast 
 thou retreated, while my pen records tho frightful 
 transaciion! A descendant of the Mountain Kings of 
 Glendalongh and Glen Malur, and Imalc — son of the 
 chieftains, whoso bones repose in the lofty cairns that 
 crown the tops of Toulnagoo and Lugnaqnilla — lor 
 thee to mukc the confesi-lon that }0u were kicked in 
 Ibe yard of on inn. Is the man alive who lifted hia 
 foot and lef: his mark on that sensitive scat of honor? 
 Truth to tell, reader, I cannot inform you, but the la- 
 mentable event was in this wise: — I, in the summer of 
 1 7'J9, the year after the rebellion, was travcliitig from 
 the county of Weslmeath to that of Tippcrary, and on 
 my way rode into my Lady Cull'e's iun at Kilbeggai ; 
 there I saw sauntering abcut the house, and smokiD|; 
 OS ihcy reclined here and there, a set of outlandish 
 soldiers — gigantic looking fellows, with terrible mous- 
 taches and other maiks denoting them to be foreign 
 ors. I was a young, spare, biihy hid at that time, 
 much under twenty, and like a gaping greenhorn, I 
 must needs proceed to the stables to in.spect the liorsei 
 and occoutrements of these much dreaded men, whom 
 1 was told were Hessians; suppose me then standing 
 in Ihc stables, 'sieut mbst est MUesionoruni,' as is ilio 
 custom of Irishmen, with my month open, admiring 
 oU tho stirrups, saddles, and bridles, &o., &c., of llic 
 Germans, moreover, bo it recollected, that it was a 
 token of loyalty in those days to carry a quae or tail 
 pendant from tlio back of your neck, ar.d that those 
 who neglected or lost such an aecompaniamenl were 
 counud disatl't-ctcd — ihcy were Croppies. Poor inno- 
 cent Croppy then as I wa«, there I stood unconscious 
 cf coming evil, when I all once found myself si izcd on 
 
imSlI iMISCELF.ANY. 
 
 259 
 
 TOm bcliind, liy tlie (jrosp, ns it were, of n Riiint — my 
 arms pinioned with one liiihd, llic poll of my iicrk 
 searched for the delicieiif. tail with tliu other, and my 
 Beat of honor a«snilcd with an immense jn(k hoof, 
 whose too did horrible exeention, such as a hatleiin^ 
 ram would inflict on a very weak postern, and then a 
 terrible cry was shouted close to my car.i, 'You be 
 one Croppie rascal, vat the devil bring to yonj; rehill 
 here? — lake dnt — and dat — and dat.' So ho kicked 
 
 in a short, space of time snpplantinj; him and drivin); I (comfortable) ns you please. Father Patt gave mo 
 him from Ulster— nRnin I'jlling under the displeasure a tiinibler of rale stiff punch, and the devil a better 
 of ihiir monarch, and obliged to lly for refuitc to warrant to make tlie same was within the jirovinee 
 France, and there forced to work as irardencrs on the of Coniiiiunht. AVc were just.an comfortable as we 
 
 grounds of a Norman abbot — and aKain, wlien, unable 
 to conceal their noldo bearing, they were detected by 
 the good ecclesiasiic, and by his intercession recon- 
 ciled to the king, and restored to iheir liefs, we (irid Inc 
 weak and vacillating John writing a letter to Walter 
 
 nio in the stable, and he kicked me in the yard, and ho do Lacy, entrealing him to forget all animosities, and 
 kicked me in the street, and kicked me up the front assuring him of future favor and |)rotcciion. 
 
 TiiituNcu O'Tooi.i!. 
 
 steps of the iim, and there the cruel monster, who was 
 ot least six feet six inches in height, then left me as a 
 hound would let drop a hare out of his mouth, pounded 
 in body and wounded in mind. Oh! the toe of that 
 terrible jack boot, never can I forget the inllietion — 
 what was I to do? Take vengeance of course. Ven- 
 geance on whom? — a common soldier — have the fellow 
 punished — stay in town until you lodge the complaint 
 before his oHieer — have him tried, (logged, and what 
 not — oh! but that would take time — I should stop with 
 my Lddy Curt'e, that would take money, with which I 
 was not overburtheiied, so I thought it better to take 
 patience, call for a chaise and putting plenty of straw 
 under me, for air cashioiis were not then invented, 
 proceed in a very delicate state to the end of my jour- 
 ney, my only consolation being, that though a kicked 
 man, the disgrace and pain were not inllicted by a 
 countryman — by a rale O, or a true Mac, but by a 
 brutal Hessian. Proceeding through Kilbeggun, our 
 next stage was Ilorseleaji, where a church stands 
 crowning an adjoining height, and where are the ruins 
 of one of the_tirst of the castles built by the Norman 
 conquerors to (|uell ihe Irish. Sir Hugh de Lacy, the 
 great grantee of Mcath, commenced the erection of this 
 stronghold, Imt it was not his fate to see it (inishcd, 
 for while tliis great man, the favorite of his sovereign, 
 and one of the most valiant of that extraordinary race, 
 who came over with Strongbow, was inspecting his 
 rising fortress, and stooping down to give directions to 
 a workman, an Irish laborer, deeply imbued with a 
 sense of his country's wrongs, clove bis head with a 
 single blow of his mattock. Tradition has it, that 
 though the most active, valiant and sage of men, De 
 Lacy was but small in stature and was called Le I'etil; 
 and from hence the Lc Petits of WestrnCKth derive 
 their name and origin. Small men have often been 
 found, not only wise in counsel, but brave leaders 
 in the field — their energies seem to act with more 
 power, as more concentrated; and Sir Hugh De Lacy 
 Le Petit, as well as Napoleon Bonaparte, together 
 with thousands of other little but great men have 
 shown that the mind — the immortal mind can nerve a 
 little body to achieve great thing. Sir Hugh was an 
 extraordinary horseman — his leap over the drawbridge 
 of his fortress is yet recorded, and the spot yet shown, 
 and the name of place and village will record as long 
 as time lasts, this feat of a Norman knight. Alas! for 
 the De Lacys — like the De Courcys and TyrrelU of 
 that day, they did not respect the prejuilicis of the 
 people; the casile he was building he dared to found 
 on the site of an ancient abbey. The Iiish wcie 
 ■hocked at the profantion, the act therefore of the as- 
 sassin was applauded by all, and even the avenging 
 peasant's deed was counted religiously meritorious, as 
 exciting the anger of St. Columbkill on him who was 
 the usurper of his abbey and the spoiler of his churches. 
 Be it as it will, the De Laey's were a valiant and noble 
 race. Hugh, the founder of Ardnoehar, or Ilorseleap 
 Castle, left two sons: Hugh, the eldest, one of ti.e 
 most politic of men, contrived to supplant John De 
 Courey, the conqueror of Ulster, in the favor of King 
 Johu, and eventually succeeded in driving him out of 
 his province, and assuming the government. The 
 story of the rivulshipofthe Do Courcy'sand De Lacys 
 might be made the subject of a very interesting histor- 
 ical romance. I have often wondered that Sir Walter 
 Scott, alter introducing the D^ Lacy into un Knglish 
 story, did not follow up the subject, by making use of 
 the materials which Irish history affords of this noble 
 rucc — their strange vicissitudes of fortune — now favor- 1 
 
 LENDING A CONCRECATION. 
 
 AH TOI.I) ilV AN OTTKIl KII.T.LIl. 
 
 AVhcn I was young, priest and minister were hand 
 and glove. It seems to me but yesterday, when 
 Father Patt .Joyce, the Lord be good to liira ! lent 
 Mr. C'ar.son a congregation. 
 
 'Eh! what, Antony,' said the Colonel. 'A con- 
 gregation appears rather an extraordinary article to 
 borrow.' 
 
 ' Well,' said the otter-killer, 'it'.s true. I was 
 there myself, and I'll tell you the story. It was in 
 the time of liishop lieresford, that beautiful old 
 man, — many a half-crown he gave mc, for I used 
 often to bring game and fish to the palace from the 
 master's father. He was the handsomest gentleman 
 I ever laid my eyes on ; and, Och, hone ! it was he 
 that knew how to live like a bishop. He never went 
 a step without four long-tailed black horses to his 
 carriage, and two mounted grooms behind him. His 
 own body-man told mc, one time I went with a 
 haunch of red deer and a bittern to the palace, that 
 never less than twenty sate down in the parlor, and 
 in troth, there was double that number in the hall, 
 for nobody came or went without being well taken 
 care of. 
 
 Well, it came into old Lord Peter's (grandfather 
 to the present Marquis of Sligo,) head, that he 
 would build a church, and settle a colony of north- 
 men away in the west. Faith, he managed the one 
 easy enough ; but it failed him to do the other, for 
 devil an inch the northmen would come ; for, says 
 they, ' Hell and Connaught's bad enough, but what 
 is either to Connemara r' 
 
 Well, the minister came down, and a nice little 
 man he was, one Mr. Carson. Father Patt Flyn 
 had the pari.sh then, and faith, in course of time the 
 two became as thick as inkle-weavers. 
 
 Everything went on beautiful, for the two elargy 
 lived together. Father Pat Flyn minded his ehapel 
 and the Hock, and Mr. Carson said prayers of a Sun- 
 day too, though sorrow a soul he had to listen to 
 him but the clerk ; but sure that was no fault of 
 his. 
 
 Well, I mind it as well as yesterday, for I killed 
 that very morning two otters at Loughnamuckey, 
 and the .smallest of them was better to me than a 
 pound note. It was late when I got down from the 
 hills, and 1 went to Father Patt's as usual, and who 
 should I meet at the door but the priest himself. 
 ' Antony,' says he, ' ccade fealteagh, have ye any 
 thing with you, for the wallet seems full ?' 
 
 ' I have,' says I, ' your reverence ;' and I pulls out 
 two pair of graziers, (young rabbits,) and a brace 
 of three-pound trouts, fresh from the sea, that I 
 caught that morning in Dliulongh. In thc^e days, 
 I carried a ferret, besides the trap and fishing rod, 
 and it went hard, if I mi.ssed the otters, buti would 
 not rabbits, or kill a disli of trout. 
 
 ' Upon my conscience,' says the priest, ye never 
 were more welcome, Antony. The minister and 
 mjself will dine off the trouts and rabbits, for they 
 forgot to kill a sheep for us till an hour ago ; and 
 you know, Antony, except the shoulder, there's no 
 part of the mutton could be touched, so I was rather 
 bothered about the dinner." 
 
 Well, in the evening, I was Iroughtinto the par 
 
 could lie, when a carrier (courier) stops at the door 
 with a letter, whii'h he said was for Mr. Carson. 
 Well, when the minister opens it. he got as pale as 
 a sheet, and I thought he would have fainted. 
 Father Patt crossed himself. 
 
 ' Arrah, Dick,' says he, ' the Lord htan<l between 
 you and evil ! is there anything wrong r' 
 
 'I'm ruined,' says he ; 'for some bad member 
 has wrote to the liishop, and told him that I have 
 no congregation, because you and I are so intimate, 
 and he's coming down to-morrow with the Dane, 
 to see the state of things. Och, hone ! says he, 
 I'm fairly ruined.' 
 
 'And is that all that's frettin' yer' says the 
 priest. 'Arrah, dear Dick,' for they called each 
 others by cristen names, ' is that all ? If it's a con- 
 gregation ye want, ye shall have a decent one to- 
 morrow, and lave that to mo ; and now we'll take 
 our drink, and not matter the Bishop a fig.' 
 
 Well, next day, sure enough, down comes the 
 Bishop, and a great retinue along with him ; and 
 there was Mr. Carson ready to receive liim. 
 
 'I hear,' says the Bishop, mighty stately, 'that 
 you have no congregation.' 
 
 ' In faith, your Holiness,' says he, ' you'll bo soon 
 able to tell that." 
 
 He walks him to the church, and there were git- 
 ting threescore well-dressed men and women, and 
 all of them as devout as if they were going to be 
 annointed ; for that blessed morning. Father Putt 
 whipped mass over before ye had time to bless your- 
 self, and the clanest of the flock was before the 
 Bishop in the church, and ready for his Holiness. 
 To sec that all behaved properly. Father Patt had 
 hardly put off the vestment, till he slipped on a cota 
 more, (a great coat,) and there he sat in a back sato 
 like any other of the congregation. I was near tho 
 Bishop's reverence ; he was seated in an arm-chair 
 belonging to the priest. 
 
 ' Come here, Mr. Carson,' says he, ' some enemy 
 of your's,' says the sweet old gentleman, ' wanted to 
 injure you with me. But I am now fully satisfied.' 
 And turning to the Dane, ' By this book !' says he, 
 'I didn't see a claner congregation this month of 
 Sundays!' 
 
 THE POTEFN. 
 
 Ireland has long been famous — or as the Temper 
 ance Society men would say— infamous — for her love 
 of the botile. Now, without declaring ourselves on 
 the side of tlie abstinent folks — wiihout saying that wo 
 ought never to take a drop, and without binding our- 
 selves never to be hearty over a tumbler of whiskey 
 punch — we may venture to say that it would be decid- 
 edly belter for Ii eland, in the long run, if she never 
 had a disiillery in the island. We say this on looking 
 at llio mischief which ardent spirits have always 
 created. 'I'lio misery, the degradation, the fightings 
 and even the murders which it has been the fatal ori- 
 gin of, may well juslify such a wish— if our country- 
 men could be brought just to take it temperately. A 
 great alteration for the better has already luken place 
 in this respect, and we sincerely tru.st that the im- 
 provement will be progressive. We extract the fol- 
 lowing account of a visit to a poteen distiller, from 
 'Sketihes in Ireland,' published by Curry & Co., of 
 Dublin, and printed in 1827. 
 
 'One moriiing in .luly, as I was dressing myself to 
 walk out before breakfast, I heard a noise at my back 
 door, and observed one of my people remonstrating 
 with a man who was anxiously pressing into the 
 house. 1 went down and met the man, whose dcmi- 
 gcnteel dress and peculiar cut marked him to bo a 
 gusgcr. 
 
 'Oh, for mercj's sake,' cried the man when he saw 
 
 _ . 'bt mc in to your house -lock mc up somewhere 
 
 lies- now rebelt— defeated to-day by Do Courey— and | lor, and there were their reverences as cur cuddiogh | —hide me, save mc, or my life is lost!' 
 
2(50 
 
 IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 So I brought liim in, be),"^d of him lo sit ilown, and 
 ofTcring him somu nrituhiiiciit, rfnuusted him to re- 
 cover his coum{;c, iind conic to hiiiiHulf, lor there was 
 nodaagcr. While I wajs speaking, nn immense crowd 
 cttmo up to the liuus^e, nnd surrounded it, and one man 
 more forward than the rc<t, came up to the door and 
 demanded admission. On my speaking in him out of 
 tlie window, aud emiuiring what liis business was, he 
 replied, 
 
 'Wc find yon have got Mr. , the ganger, in 
 
 your house; you must deliver him up to us, wo want 
 him.' 
 
 'Wliftt do you want him fori' 
 'Oh, doctor, that's no business for you to meddle in; 
 we want him, nnd must have him.' 
 
 'Indeed, that I cannot allow; he is under my roof; 
 ho has come, claiming my hospitality, nnd I must and 
 will alford it to him.' 
 
 'Doctor, there are two words to that bargain; you 
 ought to have consulted us before you promised; but 
 to be plain with you, we really respect you very much; 
 you are a quiet nnd a i;ood man, and mind your own 
 business, nnd would make the man sore and sorry 
 that would touch the hair of your head. But you must 
 give us the guager; to bo at a word with you, doctor, 
 wc must tear open or tear down your house, or get 
 him.' 
 
 What was I to do? what could 1 do? Nothing. 1 
 had not a gun or pistol in my hou.^e, so, says I — 
 'Boys, you must, it seems, do as you like, and mind, I 
 protest against what you arc about; but since you 
 must have your own way, as you are Irishmen, I de- 
 mand fair play at your hands. The man had ten 
 minutes law of you when he came to my house; let 
 biin have the same law still; let him not be the worse 
 of the shelter he has taken here. Do you, therefore, 
 return to the hill at the rere of the house, and I will 
 let him out at the hall door, and let him have his ten 
 minutes law.' 
 
 1 thought that in those ten minutes, as he was young 
 and healthy, that he would reach the river Leman, 
 about a quarter of a mile olV, in front of the house, 
 and swimming over it, escape. So they all agreed 
 that the proposal was a fair one; at any rate they 
 promised to abide by it, and the man seeing the neces- 
 sity of the case, consented to leave the house; I en- 
 larged him at the hall door, the pursuers, all true to 
 their pledged honor, stood on a hill about two hun- 
 dred yards in the rere of the house, a hanging lawn 
 sloped down towards a small river that in all places at 
 that season of the year was fordahle — about a quarters 
 of a mile further off still ra front of the house, the 
 larger river, I^cnnan, ran deep and broad between higli 
 and rocky banks. The guager started olf like a buck, 
 and as a hunted deer he ran his best, for he ran for his 
 life, he passed the little river in excellent style, and 
 just as he had ascended its further bank, and was ris- 
 ing the hilly ridge that divided the smaller from the 
 broader stream, his pursuers broke loose, all highland 
 men, tall, loose, agile, young, with breath and sinews 
 strong to breast a mountain; men, who many a time 
 and oft, over bog and brae, had run from the guager, 
 and now tliey were after him with fast foot and full 
 cry. From the hall door the whole hunt could be seen 
 — they belter skelter down the lawn rushing, he toiling 
 np the opposite hill and straining to crown its summit; 
 at length he got out of sight, he passed the ridge and 
 rushed down to the Lcnnan; here, out of breath, with- 
 out time to strip — without time to choose a convenient 
 place, he took the soil, in the hunting-phrase, and made 
 Iiis plunge— at all times a bad swimmer — now out of 
 breath, encumbered with his clothes, the water rushing 
 dark, deep, ond rapid, amidst surrounding rocks; 
 through whirls, and eurrenis, and drowning holes, the 
 poor man struggled for life; in anotlier minute he 
 would have sunk forever, when his pursuers came up, 
 and two or tlirec of the most active and best swimmers 
 rushed in and saved him from a water)- grave. The 
 whole party immediately got about him; they rolled 
 him about until they got the water out of his stomach, 
 wiped him with th(ir frieze coats; twenty warm bauds 
 were employed rubbing him into warmth; they did 
 
 everything humanity could suggest to bring him to 
 himself. Keuder, please to recollect that wo are not 
 describing the feats or fortunes of Captain Kock or his 
 myrmidons; wo arc not about to detail the minutiic of 
 a cold-hooded, long-calculated murder; wc are not de- 
 scribing the actions of men who are more careful of 
 ihe life of a pig than of a human creature. No, the 
 Donegal mouninineers hud a deed to do, but not of 
 death; they were about u deliberate work, but not of 
 murder. The moment the guager was restored to 
 himself, and in order to contribute to it an ample dose 
 of the poteen that he had persecuted was poured down 
 his throat, they proceeded to tio a bandage over his 
 eyes nnd they mounted him on a raliery, or mountain 
 pony, and oil' they set with their captive towards the 
 mountains. For a whole day they paraded him up and 
 down, through glens and defiles, nnd over mountam 
 sides, and at length, towards the close of a summer's 
 evening, tlicy brought him to the solitary nnd secluded 
 Glen Vcagh; here they embarked him in a curragh or 
 wicker boat, and after rowing him up and down for 
 some hours in the lake, they landed him on a little 
 island where was a hut that had often served as a shel- 
 ter for the fowler, as he watched his aim at the wild 
 water birds of the lake, and still oftener as the still- 
 house for the manufacture of the irrepressible, uncon- 
 querable poteen; and here under the care of two trusty 
 men was he left, the bandage carefully kept on his 
 eyes, and well fed on trout, grouse, hares and chick- 
 ens; plenty of poteen mixed with the pure water of 
 the lake was his portion to drink, and for six weeks 
 was he thus kept cooped in the dark, like a fattening 
 fowl, and at the expiration of that lime his keepers one 
 morning took him under the arm, and desired bun to 
 accompany them; then brought him to a boat, rowed 
 him up and down, wafted him from island to island, 
 conveyed him to shore, mounted him on the poney, 
 brought hira as before for the length of a day here and 
 there through glen and mountain, and towards the 
 close of night, the liberated guager finds himself alone 
 on the high road to Lettcrkenny. The poor man re- 
 turned that night to his family, who had given him 
 over as either murdered or gone to America. But he 
 stood not as a grimly ghost at the door, but as fat and 
 sleek, and as happy as ever. 
 
 Now wherefore all this trouble — why all these pains 
 to catch a guager, fatten him and let him loose? Oh, 
 it was of much and important consequence to these 
 poor mountaineers. A lawless act it surely was, but 
 taking into view that it was an act big with conse- 
 quences affecting their future ruin or prosperity, it 
 might almost be pardonable. Amidst the numerous 
 parliamentary enactments that the revenue department 
 of the cenntry cansed to be passed in order to repress 
 the system of illicit distillation in Ireland, one was £ 
 law as contrary to the spirit of the British legislation 
 as to the common principles of equity and conventional 
 right — a law punisliing the innocent in substitution for 
 the guilty. This law made the townland in which the 
 still was found, or any part of the process of distilla- 
 tion detected, liable to a heavy fine, to be levied indis- 
 criminately on all its landholders. The consequence 
 of this law was, that the whole north of Ireland was 
 involved in one common confiscation. It was the fiscal 
 triumph of guagers and informers over the landlords 
 and proprietors of the country. They were reaping 
 their harvest of ruin, uader a bonus offered for avarice, 
 treachery and perjury. Acting on this anti-social sys- 
 tem, the guager of the district in cjuestion had infor- 
 mation to the amount of £7000 against the respective 
 townlands of which it was composed. These informa- 
 tions were to be passed or otherwise at the nppronch- 
 ing assizes, and there was no doubt but that the gua- 
 ger could substantiate them according to the existing 
 law, and thus effect the total ruin of the people. 
 
 Under those circumstances the plot laid for the seiz- 
 ure and abduction of the revenue ofBeer was laid. It 
 was known that on a certain day about a month prior 
 to the assizes ho was to pass through the district on 
 his wny to the coast — it was known that he kept those 
 informations about his person, nnd therefore they way- 
 laid him, and euccceded in keeping him out of sight 
 
 until the assizes were over, and shortly after this im ' 
 prudent nnd unconstitutional law was repealed. 
 
 But to return to Glen Veagh — as we were rambling 
 along its rocky strand, admiring the stillness of its 
 waters — the sublime solitariness of its mountain shore 
 — here a ravine, climbing up amongst the hills; its 
 chasms and its dancing waterfalls, fringed with birch 
 and stunted oak — there a white silicious peak, pro- 
 truding itself on high, over which the hawk cowered, 
 as if priding iLself on its inaccessible nest — before us 
 the sleeping lake extended itself — 
 
 'Uluc, durk, and deep, round many an Isle.' 
 
 and these isles set like precious gems, with just enough 
 of trees for ornament — the birch, the rowan ash, the 
 service, the holly, and high from the central, largest, 
 and most distant island' arose a blue and wreathed 
 smoke, that bespoke the manufacture Of mountain 
 dew — the smoke certainly added much to the pictur- 
 esque nceompani-iment of the scene, and we could just 
 discern a small cabin or sheeling in the island, half 
 concealed amidst the copsewood in which it was en- 
 veloped. 
 
 I could not help expressing a wish to see the process 
 whereby this admired li(|Uor was compounded, that in 
 the estimation of every Irishman — aye, and high-born 
 Englishman too — is so superior in sweetness, salubri- 
 ty, and gusto to all that machinery, science and capi- 
 tal can produce in the legalized way — and which veri- 
 fies the observation of the wise man, 'that stolen wa- 
 ters are sweet. Just as we were conversing in this 
 way, a man turning the point of a rock, stood unex- 
 pectedly within a few yards of us. He was one of Ihe 
 largest men 1 have ever seen amongst the Irish com- 
 monality. He was tall, that is not unusual; but ho 
 was lusty, his bones and muscles were covered with 
 flesh — there was a trunk-like swell in his chest, and a 
 massiveness in his body — a pillar-like formation of 
 limbs bespeaking that ho was a man moulded to be a 
 giant, and was fed up to the full exercise and capabil- 
 ity of his frame. He had a bull-like contour of head 
 and neck, short crisp curls appeared from under a 
 small hat which seemed unable to settle itself over 
 his ears, from the full development of the organ of 
 combativeness that protruded itself in the region of his 
 cranium. 
 
 The man stood before us with the assured look of 
 one who was prepared saucily to say, what business 
 have you here? — two greyhounds were at his heels, 
 and a lurking, grisly cur, half bull-dog, half terrier, 
 showed his white teeth and began to growl. 
 
 'Oh, how are you, Teigue,' cried my friend, (who, I 
 believe, knows every one in Donegal,) 'how are you. 
 my gay fellow, I am glad to see you, lor you are just 
 the man in all these mountains that I wanted to 
 see.' 
 
 '^ATiy, then, your honor, I am entirely obliged to 
 you, and in troth when I just came upon you now. I 
 (lid not know your honor — for as I was just walking 
 over the mountain, 1 saw some strange unco people, 
 and I only slijiped down to see the cut of their coun- 
 tenances.' 
 
 'Ah, Teigue, I know rightly you do not like nneo 
 people, for fear that a guager might be amonst them.' 
 
 'Ah, then, now, is it I fear a guager? Teigue 
 O'Gallagher fear a guager! — no, nor a commissioner 
 from Dublin Custom-house, barring he had army and 
 guns nt his back — not I by my troth, for its little I'd 
 matter just taking one of them by the waistband of the 
 breeches and filliping him, do you see, into the middle 
 of the lake, and there leave him to keep company with 
 the trouts — no, no; but the likes of yon — no oli<;ncc, 
 master, the likes of you, I mean, not in the inside, bat 
 the teeth outwards, might come and give information, 
 nnd put dneent people to trouble, and be after bring- 
 ing the army here to this quiet place, and ))ut us out 
 of our way and all that.' 
 
 'Well, Teigue, you know me, don't you? 
 
 'I do, your honor, and am sartain sure that you are 
 true and of the tight sort, and evsry inch about you 
 honest.' 
 
 'Well, Tcigne, I want to get this gentleman, who is 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 261 
 
 n friinil of mine, on the lake; he desires to get into a 
 liont to sec its liuautics more convcnientlj', besides, lio 
 has a longing wish to see how the hearty drop is made, 
 can you indulge him!' 
 
 'That 1 will, as a thousand welcomes,' so away ho 
 went towards the point of the rock whicli jutted out 
 into the water, and putting his finger to his mouth, he 
 sent forth a whistle lliat sounded over tlio lake, Mud 
 thus reverberating, echoed from bay to bi\y, and mul- 
 tiplied itself through the glens and gorges of the moun- 
 tains; at the same time he made some telegraphic sig- 
 nal, and in a minute he saw a boat push off from the 
 island of Smoke. While Tciguc was absent, I asked 
 my friend who he was? Why, says he, that is one of 
 the most comfortable and independent fellows in all 
 this mountain district — he exerts a muscular and moral 
 influence over the people; he has a great deal of sense, 
 a great deal of determination; a constant view to his 
 own interest; and luckily he considers that interest 
 best promoted, by keeping tlic country in peace. Those 
 that fall out he beats into good humor, and when the 
 weight of his argument cannot prevail, the weight of 
 his fist enforces compliance with his wishes. Then he 
 is the patron of illicit distillation — ho is co-partner in 
 the adventure, and is the watchful guardian over its 
 process; there is not a movement of a guager that ho 
 does not make himself acqnainted with; there is not a 
 detachment leaves a village or town that he has not 
 under watch, and before a policeman or a red coat 
 comes within three miles of tliesc waters, all would be 
 prepared for them; still and worm sunk; malt buried; 
 barrels and coolers disposed of, and the boat scuttled. 
 There is not a man in Ireland lives better in his own 
 way than Teigue; his chests are full of meal, the roof 
 of his kitchen is festooned with bacon; his byre is full 
 of cows; his sheep range on a hundred hills; as a 
 countryman said to me the other day, 'Teigue O'Gal. 
 lagher is the only manjof his sort in Donegal that eats 
 white bread toasted, buttered, and washed down with 
 tea for his breakfast.' 
 
 In the meantime the boat came near, and joined 
 us, and after some difficulty in getting aboard from 
 the rocks, and adjusting ourselves in proper trim in 
 the most frail bark that perhaps "was ever launched 
 on water, we rowed out into the lake ; and here 
 really the apparent peril of our situation, deprived 
 me of the pleasure that might otherwise be enjoyed 
 in the picturesque scenery around ; the bottom of 
 the boat was covered with water, which oozed in 
 through a sod of turf, that served as a plug to a hole 
 in its bottom, the size of my head ; and Teigue O'- 
 Gallaghcr, who sat at the head of the boat surround- 
 ed by his dripping dogs, almost sunk it to the gun- 
 wale, and every now and then, the dogs uneasy at 
 their confinement, tumbled about and disturbed our 
 equilibrium ; if a gust of wind had come, as often 
 as it does on a sudden from the hills, we should 
 have been in a perilous state. As it was, the two 
 young iTfen who rowed as, and who it is to be sup- 
 posed could swim, enjoyed our nervous state, and 
 out of fun told us stories of sudden hurricanes, and 
 01 the dangers and deaths that have happened to 
 navigators on this lake ; we, therefore, declined a 
 protracted expedition, and onlv desired to belauded 
 on the island, where we arrived in a short time, and 
 then had opportunity of witnessing the arcana of il- 
 licit distillation. The island that at a distance look- 
 ed so pretty with its copsewood, its sheeling, and 
 its ■vvrcathing smoke, when we reached it, presented 
 as ugly and disgusting a detail as possible ; and a 
 Teniers or a Cruikshank, could only do justice to 
 the scene, and i)resent a lively picture of its uncouth 
 accompaniments. 
 
 A half roofed cabin, in which was a raging fire, 
 over which was suspended the pot with its connect- 
 ed head and worm ; two of the filthiest of human 
 beings, half naked, squalid, unhealthy looking crea- 
 tures, with skins encrusted with filth, hair long, un- 
 combed, and matted, where vermin of all sorts 
 seemed to quarter themselves and nidificate; and 
 where (as Burns says) ' horn or bone ne'er dare un- 
 
 settle their thick plantations ;' these were the oper- 
 atives of the filthy process which seemed in all [its de- 
 tails, to bo carried on in nastiness. 
 
 'John l!arle3'Coru, tlioiigh Iiero hold, 
 
 Of noble enterprise; 
 AVhen Irishmen distil liis blood, 
 They cleanliness despise.' 
 The whole area of the Island was one dunghill com- 
 posed of fermenting grains ; there were aliout twenty 
 immense hogs either feeding or snoring on the food 
 that lay beneath them ; and so alive with rats was the 
 whole concern that one of the boatmen compared them 
 in number and intrusiveness to flocks of sparrows on 
 the side of a shelling-hill, adjoining a cornmill. I ask- 
 ed one of the boatmen where the men who attended the 
 still slept. ' Och, where should they sleep but on the 
 grains with the pigs ; they have never been off the isl- 
 and these six months, they have never changed their 
 clothes, and I believe, though they are convenient 
 enough to the water, they have never washed them- 
 selves.' 'And are they not afraid?' 'Why who 
 would they be afraid of but the rats.' ' And do they 
 never go to divine worship V ' Ah, that they don't, 
 it's little they care about religion — one of them is a 
 Protestant, and he curses so much that it's enough to 
 keep ghost, angel, or devil off the place — and it troth 
 the Catholic is not much better, may be the Priest 
 wont have work enough with him yet.' 
 
 I was truly disgusted with the whole scene, and anx- 
 ious to quit it.* I was vexed and disappomted to find 
 such a romantic and beautiful spot so defiled, so dese- 
 crated, I might say, by a manufacture, that has proved 
 of incallculable mischief to the peaceful habits, the 
 moral character, and religious duties of the people of 
 the country — but we would not be allowed to part be- 
 fore we partook of the produce of the pot. With all 
 his faults, Pat is not deficient in generosity, and he is 
 ever ready to share — yes, and often to waste the liquor 
 which he has a peculiar delight in manufacturing ; be- 
 cause, perhaps, the undertaking is attended with rick, 
 and gives birth to adventurous engagements, and es- 
 capes ; and as the song says, 
 
 'An Irishman all in bis glory is there.' 
 To the above description, we add a few refloctiong 
 from ' Letters from the Irish Highlands.' 
 
 ' Among all the striking peculiarities which arrest 
 the attention of an English stranger, on his first visit 
 to Ireland, there is none, I have oflen thought, that 
 must at once excite such surprise, and lead the mind 
 to such sad and sober reflections, as the hostile feelings 
 of the majority of the people towards the law of the 
 land. They will make use of its strong arm occasion- 
 ally to oppress an inferior, or to wreak then- vengeance 
 on an equal ; but they never look to it with the feelings 
 which an Englishman cherishes ; they have not learned 
 to rcard it as the protector of their persons and [pro- 
 perties, and the guardian of their dearest rights and 
 liberties. From the rebellious code of Ribandism, 
 which dooms him to destruction who ventures to ap- 
 peal to the tribunals of justice against the hand of mid- 
 night violence, to the easy good nature of the peasant, 
 who without advantage to himself, assists his neighbor 
 in concealing the keg of illicit whiskey, or the bale of 
 smuggled tobacco, the spirit is the same. The hand 
 of the law has been against every man — and now, 
 every man's hand is, in turn, raised against the law. 
 But it is not for me to lead you back in the trodden 
 path of history, to point out the wrongs which poor 
 Ireland has received at the hands of her conquerors. 
 You know that her sons were once hunted, like wild 
 beasts, through the woods of Connaught; and where 
 is the wonder then, if they failed to recognize a bene- 
 factor, when they beheld, it is true, laws and civiliza- 
 tion in one hand, but in the other a frightful accom- 
 paniment of whips and scourges 1 Need I remind you 
 that until the reign of J.ames I. who, perhaps, never 
 
 •The visit to (lien A'cagb took place some years ago. 
 I have rca.ion to believe, that in conseiiuence of better ar- 
 rangements in the revenue department, illicit distilation 
 lias ceased long ago in Ulen Vengh. 
 
 more truly than on this point deserved the title of tho 
 English Solomon, the poor Irish pleaded in vain to bo 
 governed by the Enghsii law '? This was a favor 
 granted only to a few; while ihe majority of tho na- 
 tives, themero Irish, as they were disdainfully termed, 
 were denied a participation in the rights and privileges 
 of English subjects; and were thus compelled to gov- 
 ern tbeniRclves by their own barbarous usages and cus- 
 toms ; while they were exposed, almost without pro- 
 tection, to the outrages of their more favored neigh- 
 bors. 
 
 A more enlightened policy has at length succeeded 
 to these days of darkness ; and let us hope that after 
 a time the governors and the governed will form but 
 one people. As they carried on a continual warfare 
 agamst the law, and all its ministers, it became neces- 
 sary that they should be acquainted with its intricacies 
 and estimate well the terrors of its sanctions. And 
 this they have done. The lowerorders of Irish, though 
 an uneducated, are not an uninformed people ; and 
 upon this subject, which is of such vital importaiice to 
 them, they often show a knowledge, not only of the 
 common points, ]git also of the technical niceties, which 
 is far beyond any thing that would be met with in an 
 English peasant. They understand exactly how far 
 they may go without hazarding the animadversion of 
 a magistrate; and often as the exceed the bounds of 
 moderation, yet still oftener do they venture upon the 
 very verge, and there stop short, to the surprise and 
 admiration of all spectators." 
 
 POMPEII. 
 
 The following fine passage is taken from the poem 
 on 'The Universe,' which, though published upder the 
 name of Maturin, was really written by another 
 Irishman— the Rev. James Wills:— 
 Thus deep, beneath 
 Earth's bosom, and the mansions of the graves 
 Of men, are graves of cities Such of tate 
 From its long sleep of darkness dssinterr'd 
 Pompeii, with its low and buried roofs, 
 Hose dark upon the miner's progress, Jike 
 A city of the dead! A tomb perchance 
 AVhere living men were buried ! Tyrant death! 
 How didst thou triumph then!— thou us'd'st to steal 
 Behind thy sallow harbinger, disease, 
 Or take thine open and determined stand 
 In battle's ranks, with danger at thy side, 
 Forewarning gallant breasts prepared to die; 
 But there— thy spectral visage darken'd forth 
 Amid the joyous bosom scenes of life, 
 From its iuvisible ambush! There— it found 
 The myriad fantasies of hearts and biains; 
 Young loves, and hopes, and pleasures, all abroad, 
 Spreadingtheir painted wings, and wantoning 
 In life's glad summer breeze, from flow'r to flow'r, 
 And, with the fatal spell of one dread glance. 
 Blighted them all! How sunk the tender maid 
 Then silent in the chill and stilfning clasp 
 Of her dead lover! Echo had not ceased 
 To catch love's inarticulate ecstacics, 
 Strained in a lirst embrace— for ever then 
 Fix'd statue-like in death's tremendous arms, 
 A hideous contrast!— one fell moment still'd 
 Lovers and foes alike ; — workers of good. 
 And guilty wretches; — then the statesman's brain 
 Stopp'd in its calculation, ahd the bard 
 Sunk by his lyre;— the loud procession 
 Before the temple— nil the cares of life 
 With action and contrivance, the street 
 Throng'd multitudinous, iu their busy time 
 Of bustle and magniliccnce;— andall 
 Life's thousands were abroad, and the high sounds 
 Of civic pomp rose audible from far; 
 But louder rose the terrible voice of ruin 
 Over their mirth, 'Be still,' and all was bush'd I 
 Save the short shuddering cries that rose unheard, 
 The upturn'd glances from a thousand homes 
 Through red closing surge! the awful groan 
 Ot agitated nature— and beneath 
 Ten thousand victims turn'd to die; above 
 Bright sunbeams in the plain— a nameless tomb' 
 
 Never did an Irisliman utter a better bull, than 
 did an honest John Bull, who being asked by a 
 friend, 'Has your sister got a son or a daughter-' 
 answered, 'Upon my word I do not know whether 
 I am an uncle or an aunt.' 
 
IIMSIl MISCELLANY. 
 
 NATIONAL BIOGRAPHY. 
 LMHEXCE STEKXE., 
 
 W'c can hardly claim Sterne asacountrymnn. He 
 certainly was born in Ireland, and was here at in- 
 tervals during part of his childhood ; but from the 
 period of his going to school, he never again visited 
 this country. His family too was altogether Eng- 
 lish, being originally of the county of Suflblk. His 
 great-grandfather was Kichard Sterne, Archbishop 
 ot York, in the time of Charles II., having been el- 
 evated to the archicpiscopal see after the llestora- 
 
 not be omitted here. ' Ilis master having had the 
 ceiling of the school-room newly white-washed, one 
 unlucky day, the ladder remaining there, he mount- 
 ed, and wrote with a brush, in large, capital letters, 
 I,.\l'. STKUNE — for which he got a .sound whip- 
 ping from an luher. The master, however, was 
 very much hurt at this, and said before him that 
 n^^cr should that name be effaced, for that he was 
 1 bo^ of genius, and would surely come to prefer- 
 1 II nt , this expression made him forget the stripes 
 had received." We are free to confess, that to us 
 ilus story appears to exhibit something of that ego- 
 ti'-tu it turn which developes itself also in his rela- 
 tion of his earlier adventure at Annamoe, and is 
 still more preposterously displayed through every 
 part of his correspondence with his Iricnds, pub- 
 lished after his death, by his daughter. 
 
 To the t'liiversity of Cambridge, where he was 
 admitted of Jesus C'oUege, in 1732, he was sent by 
 his cousin Mr. Sterne of Elvington, who, he says, 
 acted like a father to him ; how he occupied him- 
 self during his residence there, does not appear. In 
 January, 173G, he took the degree of liachelor of 
 Arts, and that of Master, in 1740. In the interval 
 between the two last mentioned periods, he was or- 
 dained, and by the interest of his uncle. Dr. Jaqucs 
 Stcnie, I'lebendary of Durham, obtained the living 
 of Sutton near York ; the income arising from this 
 could not have been very considerable, as his Avifc, 
 to whom he was about this time iirst introduced, 
 long resisted his solicitations to unite herself to him 
 on the ground of the inadequacy of even their unit- 
 
 tion, in reward for his sufferings and imprisonment ed means. In 1741, however, they were married. 
 
 during the commonwealth. His son settled at El- 
 vington in Yorkshire. Koger Sterne, the second son 
 of this latter gentleman, and the father of Laurence 
 •we find in the most straitened circumstances ; a 
 lieutenant in the army, in November, 1713, quarter- 
 ed with his regiment at Clonmcl, then a small town 
 in the South of Ireland, where Laurence Steme was 
 bom, as he himself tells us, on the 21th of that 
 month. It has been said that some passages in the 
 life of hi« parents, and the hardships and poverty, 
 with which they had to struggle, in maintaining a 
 family on the slender support his father's pay af- 
 forded them, furnished Steme with some hints for 
 his beautiful episode of Le Fe%Te. His father, hav- 
 ing for several years carried his wife and children 
 about with his regiment to various quarters in Eng- 
 land and Ireland, they at length enjoyed an interval 
 of repose, remaining for nearly the entire of 1720 in 
 barracks, in the town of Wicklow ; from thence they 
 removed to the house of a Mr. Fctherson, a clergy- 
 man, who being related to Sterne's mother, invited 
 them to his parsonage, at Annomoe, in the same 
 county. During their stay here, Sterne relates that 
 he had ' a wonderful escape in falling through a 
 mill-race whilst the mill was going, and of being 
 taken up unhurt.' ' The story,' he says, ' might be 
 incredible, but was known for truth in all that part 
 of Ireland, where hundreds of the common people 
 flocked to see him." Now to our humble apprehen- 
 sion, the most incredible part of the story is, not 
 that he escaped unhurt ; but rather that such a 
 mighty astonishment should have been excited by 
 80 simple an occurrence. About the beginning of 
 
 shortly after her recovery from a severe illness, dur- 
 ing which she had given a most striking proof of 
 her affectionate regard for him, having, at a time 
 when she believed her recovery hopeless, left to him 
 by her will, the entire of the fortune at her disposal. 
 About this time, his uncle, with whom he yet con- 
 tinued on good terms, got him a prebcndal stall in 
 \ ork cathedral, but soon after, ' he quarrelled with 
 him, and from that period became his bitterest ene- 
 my, because, (according as Steme tells the story,) 
 I would not write paragraphs in the newspapers, for 
 though he was a party-man, I was not, and detested 
 such dirty work, thinking it beneath me.' Shortly 
 after, he obtained by his wile's interest, the living 
 of Stillington ; and from that time for nearly twenty 
 years, he continued to do duty there, and at Sutton, 
 residing at the latter place. Dui-ing the greater part 
 of this period, his publications seem to have been 
 confined to a Sermon for the charity schools in 
 Y'ork, in 1747, and another preached before the 
 Judges of Assize, in 1756. In 1759, appeared the 
 two first volumes of his Tristram Shandy, which 
 speedily excited so much attention, and had such a 
 rapid .sale, that the following year, having taken a 
 house in York for his wife and daughter, he went up 
 to London for the purpose of publishing a second 
 edition. Of this singular book it is impossible just- 
 ly to pronounce any general, decided, or summary 
 opinion cither in its favor, or the contrary ; there 
 certainly are many parts of it which possess great 
 beauty and elegance, others contain the most piquant 
 strokes of wit and humor, and at the same time 
 evince a thorough knowledge of character ; some of 
 
 1723, his father put him to school at Halifax in i the episodes are exquisitely touching, and indicate 
 
 Y'orkshire, previous to his going out with his regi 
 mcnt to the defence of (iibraltar. During the pro- 
 gress of the siege there, he received a severe wound 
 in a duel with a Captain Phillips, which originated 
 in some quarrel about a goose. AVith much diffi- 
 culty he survived, and shortly after being ordered 
 out to Jamaica, whither he went, with an impaired 
 constitution unequal to the hardships he was ex- 
 posed to, in that climate he was attacked xvith fever, 
 to which he quickly fell a victim, and died there in 
 March, 1731. 
 
 Sterne has recorded an occurrence whi.-h took 
 place while he remained at school, and which should 
 
 a mind full of the finest sensibility j but it abounds 
 with passages containing such gross and indelicate 
 allusions as are utterly indefensible, and appear to 
 have met with most deserved reprehension immedi- 
 ately on the appearance of the first volumes f,f the 
 work. Yet Slerne, though fully apprized of this, 
 seems to have totally disregarded every considera- 
 tion but that of sordid profit ; in one of his letters 
 from London, he gays, ' one half the town abuse my 
 book as bitterly as the other half cry it up to the 
 
 when he was plainly told that ' his work could not 
 be put into the hands of any woman of character,' 
 hi.s only defence was a miserable attempt at ribald 
 and indecent jocularity, coupled with an admission ! 
 that he wrote ' to make his labor of advantage to . 
 himself.' Tristram Shandy can in truth only bo 
 characterized as the most extraordinary melange of 
 intelligent and reflective observation of human na- 
 ture, and of the most profound absurdity, of highly 
 wrought feeling, and of the most unmeaning and 
 vicious frivolity that ever was, or is is to be hoped, 
 ever will be presented to the world. 
 
 It has been repeatedly said, and some treatises 
 have been written to prove not only that Steme was 
 in a great measure a copyist of the manner of llab- 
 elais, Montaigne, Uishop ILill, and some other old 
 writers, whose works are but little read, but that 
 whole passages in his Tristram Shandy, and Senti- 
 mental Journey could be ])oiiitcd out, which, with 
 very little alteration, are transcribed from liurton's 
 Anatomy of Melancholy, and other works of a re- 
 moter period. There certainly were arguments 
 brought forward almost amounting to proofs of this, 
 yet even if we admit them to their fullest extent 
 enough of what is purely his own, will be found iu 
 Sterne's works to entitle him to the name of an orig- 
 inal writer. 
 
 In the commencement of 17G1, he was presented 
 by Lord i'auconberg with the curacy of Coxwould, 
 which produced some increase to his income, but 
 obliged him to keep a curate for the parishes of * 
 Sutton and Stillington. He now came to reside at 
 Coxwould, which he calls ' a sweet retirement in 
 comparison of Sutton." Here too, he draws a charm- 
 ing picture of the domestic occupations of his fam- 
 ily : — 'lam scribbling away at my Tristram ; my 
 Lydia helps to copy for me — and my wife knits and 
 listens, as I read her my chapters.' 
 
 His health about this time, appears to have been 
 very precarious ; he had burst a blood-vessel in his 
 lungs, and was otherwise so delicate, that he was 
 advised to try the South of France, and from the 
 Archbishop of York, he, without ditticulty, obtain- 
 ed pemiission to be absent for a year or two. That 
 he was an improvident man, and notwithstanding 
 the income of his several church preferments, fre- 
 quently much in want of money, is a circumstance 
 pretty well known, and a tolerable sample of this is 
 exhibited in the following letter which he wrote to 
 (Jarrick, shortly before he set out for the Continent, 
 the autograph of which is preserved in the collection 
 of Mr. Upcott of London : — 
 ' Dear Garrick, 
 
 Upon reviewing my finances this morning, 
 with some unforeseen expenses, I find I should set 
 out with 20 pounds less, than a prudent man ought 
 — will you lend me twenty pounds. 
 Yours 
 
 I,. STERNE.' 
 He would hove the world to believe, that while 
 at Paris, where he arrived in January, 1 7G2, he was 
 courted and his society sought in the most flattering ; 
 manner, by all the men of rank, as well as of wit 
 and learning there, by the Duke ot Orleans, (who, 
 he says, got him to sit for a portrait for him,) the 
 Count de Choiseul, Baron of Holbach, Crcbillon, 
 and many others, .\lthoufh it has been very gen- 
 erally said that his treatment of his wife through 
 life was unkind in the extreme, yet this is by no 
 means indicated by several letters which he wrote 
 to her from Paris, pressing her to come over to him 
 with his daughter, and to accompany him in his 
 tour to the South. His journey thither was hast- 
 ened, in consequence of having been nearly carried 
 off by again breaking a blood-vessel internally, just 
 before the arrival of his wife and daughter, in July. 
 Accordingly, about the end of that month, they set 
 
 skies— the best is, they abuse and buy it, and at ; out for Toulouse, where they took a house for a 
 such a rate, that we are going on with a second edi- ] year. Tlie winter was passed by Sterne, very agrec- 
 tion as fast as possible.' Indeed on one occasion, j ably in the society of some English families, who 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 2C3 
 
 were resident there, nnd who found in liim a valua- 
 ble auxiliary in getting up some private plays at 
 Cliristmas, About the month of .Tune following he 
 began to grow tired of Toulouse, and he removed 
 to Jlontpelier, and took iip his residence there dur- 
 ing the winter of llG'.i. Early in the following year, 
 though not much improved in health, he determined 
 on returning home, but his wife preferred remaining 
 after him in Prance. Some people were so inge- 
 nious as to represent this, even at the time, as a 
 ' separation for life,' but there docs not appear to 
 liavc been any grounds for such a supi^osition, es- 
 pecially, as they i\-ere again together at Tours, in 
 17G6, and as in 1TG7, she rejoined him in Enghand. 
 About June, 1761, ho returned to England, where 
 ho was for some time chiefly engaged in the printing 
 of the concluding volumes of Tristram Shandy, and 
 the publication by subscription of two volumes of 
 Sermons. About this time, probably, he sat to Sir 
 Joshua lleynolds for the portrait, an engraving of 
 which ^^■e give at the top of this article. His health 
 again beginning to fail, he hastened to Italy in the 
 latter end of 1765, and spent the winter at Naples. 
 In his journey thither, through France, he does not 
 appear to have gone to see his wife or daughter, al- 
 though they were then living at Tours ; yet his let- 
 ters to them from Italy do not show any alienation, 
 or even unusual coldness, and on his return, in the 
 Jlay following, he paid them a short visit. His 
 health after he got back to England, began rapidly 
 to sink, and we find him for some time at Scarbor- 
 ough, trying the efficacy of the waters there. In 
 1767, he came up to London to publish his Senti- 
 mental Journey, and while there, had a violent re- 
 turn of his old complaint which proved very nearly 
 fatal. From this attack, he never perfectly recover- 
 ed. His wife and daugh;er returned from the con- 
 tinent in the month of October, and settled in York, 
 and the society of his dcughter, to whom he was 
 much attached, seemed tc give him new vigor for a 
 i\hile, but his disorder -vras too firmly rooted in his 
 constitution, now enfeebL'd by repeated attacks, and 
 on the 18th of March, 1768, after a short but severe 
 struggle, he died at his lodgings in Bond-street, and 
 was interred in the new burying-ground belonging 
 to the parish of St. George, Hanover-square. 
 
 Of Sterne's general character, enough may be 
 gathered from the preceding sketch to enable one to 
 judge that his standaid of morality was not very 
 high. JIany passages in his writings would, no 
 doubt, tend to the coneusion that he was of a most 
 benevolent turn of mint, and had a heart very sus- 
 ceptible of compassionate feelings ; yet it seems to 
 be the universal opin'on, that the whole tenor of 
 his life went directly to contradict all this. His 
 correspondence with Eliza (Mrs. Draper) seems to 
 tell nothing to his advantage, or hers, though she 
 seems to have beena woman of strict virtue. Ilut 
 no defence can be atemptcd for a clergyman, writ- 
 ing letters of the kinl, to a m.arried woman for the 
 purpose of establishiig what has been amiably term- 
 ed, a Platonic affectioi ! a phrase manifestly, but a 
 cloak for a criminal prssion. Walpole has given us 
 his opinion with a harhness which we fear is but 
 too justly called for. (Walpolian, 9.5.) His friend 
 Garrick has taken him n the best point of view, in 
 the epitaph which he wote for his tomb : 
 'Shall pride a heap of eulptured marble raise, 
 fioinc worthless, unmorrned titled tool ijraise: 
 And shall we notby one poor gravestone learn 
 Where Genius, Vitaid Humor sleep with Sterne;' 
 O'G. 
 
 A street sweeperthe other day, hearing some praises 
 bestowed on the elan slate of one of the crossings, at 
 which a brother ohlic same craft officiated, somewhat 
 petulantly observd, 'Well, now, I don't think him 
 any such great shaes after all. He can get through 
 common straight-fcward jobs well enough; hut it isn't 
 them that tells a mn's abilities. Justpstliim to a bit 
 of fancy work; let Im try to sweep round the posts, 
 and then sec how h'll manage that.' 
 
 THE CERfVIANS IN IRELAND. 
 
 It has been rncnlionod that tlio two light balalions 
 and the first and second line brigades of the legion were 
 ordered to Ireland, on the sixth of May these regl. 
 nients sailed for Cork; but scarce had they lost sight 
 o( the English coast, when a violent gale of wind 
 sprung up and drove them into the Atlantic. The 
 g.Tio lasted three days, and firuiUy oljllged the trans, 
 ports to put into Bantrv hay, on the south west coast of 
 Ireland, where, in the harbor of Benhavcn, they an- 
 chored on the 12th. 
 
 So long a voyage not having been anticipated, the 
 stock of provisions proved here deficient, and recourse 
 was had to the inhabitants of the coist for supplies. 
 To their dismay the Germans found that the peasantry 
 of these parts providently reserving any cattle which 
 they might possess as a means of paying the rent of 
 their tenements, subsisted almost entirely upon fish and 
 potatoes, and were consequently little qualified to pro- 
 vide the strangers with more substantial nourishment 
 From this state of abstinence the troops, were however 
 relieved on the 20th, when, the easterly wind subsiding, 
 they sailed for Cork, and anchored in Cove harbor on 
 the following day. 
 
 The greater part of the legion had now been removed 
 to Ireland, and found no reason to be dissatisfied with 
 the change. To both officers and men Ireland pre- 
 sented advantages which her sister island did not af- 
 ford them. The hospitality of the inhabitants ; the 
 cheapness of the provisions ; the readiness with which 
 a strarger, and particularly a militir/ man, was ad- 
 mitted into the family circles of the gentry — formed an 
 agreeable contrast to the parallel circumstances in Eng. 
 land. There, indeed, the country towns were so 
 crowded with troops, that general attention to the mil- 
 itary could scarcely be expected from the residents ; — 
 and he who was not fortunate enough to be provided 
 with letters of introduction, had little chance of being 
 invited to partake of their hospitality. In Ireland, on 
 the other hand, the garrisons were smaller, and the 
 gentry,ever more ready to form acquaintances than the 
 English, make those advances which are so agreeable 
 to a stranger, and could not but prove highly gratify- 
 ing to the officers of a foreign corps. The Hanoveri- 
 ans became acquainted with Irish hospitality to its 
 fullest ; the house of the more wealthy residents were 
 open to them ; at fthe grand entertainment, or more 
 humble family party, they were equally welcomed ; the 
 ladies taught them English, and the gentlemen bcre 
 with their German ; festivities denoted their presence, 
 and laraenlatioos their departure. 
 
 That this friendly intercourse should have led to 
 more near aliances may well be imagined, and the sub- 
 sequent change of condition of several officers of the 
 corps proved that the fair daughters of Erin were not 
 insensible to the merits of their foreign guests. 
 
 With more complete satisfaction could we dwell on 
 the sojourn of the German legion in Ireland, did not an 
 unfortunate event, which about this time occurred, 
 mingle some painfid recollections with this period of 
 their history. 
 
 The light companies of some Iiish militia regiments 
 had been formed into a brigade, and stationed at the 
 town of Birr, in the King's County. In the month of 
 July, this brigade was broken up, and the second com- 
 panies of which it was composed were ordered to join 
 their respective regiments. Agreeably to this order, 
 four companies, being those of D.;rry, Monaghan, 
 Limericic and Sligo regiments, marched into Tulla- 
 more, where, as has been stated, the first light batalion 
 and one suqadron of the first dragoons of the legion 
 were quartered. On their entrance into the town, the 
 militia oHicers were met by a deputation from those of 
 the legion, who, wishing to return a similar civility 
 which had been paid to one of their battalions by the 
 Irish officers at Birr, begged that they might be favored 
 with their company nt dinner. The^invitation was de- 
 clined under the pica of fatigue, nnd the militia pro- 
 ceeded to take up their quarters in Tullamore for the 
 night. 
 
 About seven o'clock in the evening a man belonging 
 (0 the German light battalion, who was peaceably cros- 
 
 sing the bridge which formed one end of the miii 
 street of the town, was knocked down by one of tho 
 militia, who wa.s immediately joined by one of his com- 
 rades. Three other Germans who were accidentally 
 passing, and came up to sec what was going forward 
 met with a similar fate. 
 
 Major General von Linsingen, who commanded the 
 distrii't, happening to be at the moment about to leave 
 the officer's dinner room in tlie adjoining hotel, was af 
 tr.icted by the noise vhicli this outrage occasioned, and 
 seeing from the inn window that two or three of the 
 German light infantry were surrounded liy a crowd of 
 mihtia soldiery, hurried to the spot, and in the best 
 English he could command, entreated them to desist. 
 For the moment, his interference was effectual, but 
 two of the Germans had been already wounded with 
 bayonets and stones, and a determination to repeat tho 
 assault appeared evident on the part of the miliiia. 
 The Major General, therefore, sending to the barracks 
 for a patiole, repaired to his quarters and made the of- 
 ficer who commanded the militia acquainted with wliat 
 had occurred. This officer immediately waited upon 
 the General, who ordered him to parade his men forth- 
 with for roll-call, and sent similar instructions to 
 Colonel von Alton for the hglit infantry of the legion. 
 The pairole from the barracks now came up and 
 seized one of the militia, who appeared to be ringleader 
 in the business. About twenty of his comrades then 
 collected for the apparent purpose of rescuing him, and 
 were about to charge the Germans with fixed bayonets 
 when Captain von Diising moved his company down 
 upon the assailants, and caused them to retreat beyond 
 the bridge. Here they faced abont and fired, and sev- 
 en of the Germans were wounded. Upon this Captain 
 Diising pressed forward, and drove them into the lanes 
 beyond the bridge ; meanwhile Colonel von Alten's 
 battalion had been formed in the main street. 
 
 The militia had now nearly all retired from this part 
 of the town ; but taking shelter in the houses, and at 
 the corners of the streets, they still continued to fire 
 upon the Germans, and Lieutenant Baron Marschalk 
 was dangerously wounded by a musquct ball in the 
 chest. 
 
 General Linsingen now appeared with the cavalry, 
 ana charged the only body of the militia which still 
 held out. The German dragoons felt naturally irritat- 
 ed at the unprovoked treatment which their comrades 
 had received, and showed little mercy towards the ag- 
 gressors. These, however, received them with a 
 heavy fire ; but not being able to withstand the violent 
 reprisal of the cavalry, soon dispersed, and here the 
 affair terminated. 
 
 Three officers, twenty-two men, and five horses 
 were wounded on the side of the legion ; and Baron 
 Marsehalk, who had been shot through the lungs, was 
 for a length of time not expected to recover. 
 
 Gf the militia, only nine were wounded, one of 
 whom died afterwards, which small number of casual- 
 ties in proportion to that of the Germans, was owing 
 to the latter being unprovided with ammunition, while 
 the militia were all loaded with both. 
 
 Various reasons have been given for the hostile ieel- 
 ing of the Irish towards the Germans; — revenge for a 
 punishment which had been inflicted upon one of their 
 body for stealing a pipe from one of the legion; a be- 
 lief that the arrival of the latter in Ireland was the 
 cause of the militia light brigade having been broken 
 up, the faithlessness of some former 'sweethearts' of 
 the Irishmen in Tullamore, on the arrival of the le- 
 gion in that town, have been severally stated as the 
 cause of the aggression, nnd taken collectively, will 
 probably account for the afl'ray. 
 
 A violent opposer of railroads was one dny fiercely 
 talking against them, and among other arguments, 
 eqaallv forcible, observed that no person would trust 
 himself twice on sucli a road, 'For,' said he, 'I once 
 rode a mile or two on a railroad, (meaning the rails or 
 logs thrown across roads in marshy places,) and came 
 near having every bone in my body dislocated by the 
 jolting of the carriage.' 
 
2G4 
 
 IRISH iMISCELLANY. 
 
 ATIICAKNE CASTLE. 
 
 ATHCARNE CASTLE. their respective fathers, have omincntly suffered for 
 
 Of the many fine castles or castellated houses j their adhering to the authority of his majesty, or 
 erected by the descendants of the old English set- 1 his father of blessed raemorj-, in this kingdom, 
 tlcrsof the Tale, one of themostinteresting in many I against the Nuncio and his party, shall be forth- 
 partieulars, was that which is the subject of our ; with restored to their former respective estates, and 
 prefixed illustration ; for though of no higher an- : whereof they, or any of their said fathers were dis- 
 tiquity than the reign of Elizabeth, it preserved, till possessed by the late usurped power, and be therein 
 lately, without change, its original form and char- settled and quieted in possession to them, and to 
 acter, a peculiarity which bad taste and love of | their heirs respectively, as fully, finally, and bcne- 
 change has rarely permitted our ancient buildings ficially, and with the same advantages, benefits and 
 of this class to retain. | assurances to all intents and purjioscs, as the Lord 
 
 This very interesting specimen of Elizabethan Netterville, and the Lord Viscount Galmoy, and the 
 architecture is situated in the county of ileath on ' rest witl> them in the Declaration herein before meu- 
 the Ashbourne new line of road, about 17 miles J tioned, ought, by virtue of the said Declaration, and 
 from Dublin and 5 from Drogheda. It consists of j this present act, to be restored to their respective 
 an extensive mansion and a lofty castle, united to- 1 estates, anything to the contrary notwithstanding." 
 gcthcr, and of coeval erection, presenting in every ^ This Luke Hath was immediately afterwards created 
 point of view a picturesque variety of outline, r.are- 1 a baronet; but notwithstanding all this great favor 
 ly found in modem domestic architecture. The pleas- , towards him, it appears by a record in the lloU's of- 
 ing little river Nanny water, which nearly washes fice, that on the 10th of February, 1003, (the very 
 
 its base, lends its beauty to tho ancient mansion, 
 which is also adorned by traces of equal antiquity 
 and venerable appearance. 
 
 next year after the above enactment) by an inquisi- 
 tion post mortem, the jurors, after finding that Ath- 
 came, and several other towns and lands, were the 
 
 From inscriptions wliich appear over several of property of James liath of Atheame, (the deceased 
 the doorways, we find that Atheame Castle was I father of Sir Luke,) ' and who being of thes.aidl.and8 
 erected for AVQliam Uathe and his wife Janet Dow- possessed, was since indicted and outlawed of liigh 
 dal, in the year 1590. Tliis William liathe was a treasonby him committed ag.iinst his majesty Charles 
 person of much distinction iu his day, and a young- \ I., in his kingdom of Ireland, by reason whereof, 
 cr branch of the ancient and respectable family of : the jurors aforesaid, do find the said premises to be 
 the name of Knightstown, in the same county, now ' forfeited to the king's majesty, his heirs and succes- 
 rcprescntcd by the worthy Sir William Plunket do sors, and are now held in custodiara by Sir Luke 
 Uathe, Bart., who still is in possession of that place, liath.' Ilowcvcr, by the subsequent explanatory 
 being a part of the original grant to his ancestor in Act of Settlement, vol. iii. p. 117, A. D." IG65, Sir 
 the year 1172, and who has rc-as.sumed, by hismaj- Luke was restored to, or rather continued .in the 
 esty's sign manual, the ancient family name of De possession (which he never lost) to the time of his 
 Bathe, after its having for upwards of three hundred death, in which also, his son, Sir Teter continued to 
 years fallen into disuse. The Atheame branch of the time of his death : after which, (he having left 
 the family is, we believe, represented by Mr. Joseph no male issue) a collusive proceeding took place be- 
 Ilcnry Bath of G.alway and Dublin, who also reprc- twecn the then Duke of York, (afterwards James II.) 
 Bcnts the Baths' of Brcmorc Castle, which, to the and Lady Cecilia, the widow of Sir Luke, and Lady 
 discredit of the present proprietor, has been recently Margaret, the widow of Sir Peter, and their trus- 
 takcn down ; but neither of those places are now m tees, George Aylmer and Launcelot Dowdall, (broth- 
 thc possession of the famUy. The historj- of the er of Lady Cecelia) which collusion was established 
 Atheame property is, we believe, as follows :— : for the purpose of defeating the righu of the male 
 
 By the act of settlement, vol. ii. sec. 225, p. 347, heir of the Bath family, who being thus despoiled of 
 A. D. 1661, it was provided that Luke Bath of Ac- | his right, made, as did also his descendants at sev 
 karuc, (.-Vthcarae) amongst several others, ' who, or , oral periods, frequent, but in consequence of the 
 
 poverty, ineffectual attemptstorccovcrit. The prop- 
 erty was sold at Chichistcr house, in the year 1703, 
 
 to Jlr. S e, a wooUer. draper in High street, 
 
 Dublin, (subject, however, to the lease of 99 years, 
 allowed in 1700, in the Court of Claims, executed by 
 the Duke of York to the alcve trustees, at a pepper- 
 corn rent !) for the sum of £IO;i. 
 
 The counties of Mcath aid Louth are rich in an- 
 tiquarian remains of this respectable family, and in 
 future numbers of the Miscellany we shall give il- 
 lustrations of several of the maguifieent votive stone 
 crosses erected in various parts of the country to 
 the memory of William Bathe of Atheame, by his 
 widow, and which are the fines monuments of their 
 kind now remaining in Irclend V. 
 
 Alligatok Fight is Afrca Carlier, the trav- 
 eller states that one day whib at anchor off an Af- 
 rican town, he witnessed one of the most ingenious 
 ways of killing an alligator t.iat could be imagined. 
 He was observed by two naivcs in a canoe, who 
 immediately paddled to the opp:)site side of tho 
 bank, and having landed, crept mutiously towards 
 him. As soon as they were ncir him, one of the 
 natives stood up from his crouclmg position, hold- 
 ing a spear about si.x feet loi?, which -with one 
 blow he struck through the anmal's tale into the 
 sand. A most strenuous concst immediately en- 
 sued — the man with the spcff holding it in the 
 sand as firmly as his strengn allowed him, and 
 clinging to it as it became necssarj- to shift his po- 
 sition with the agility of i monkey; while his 
 companion occasionally run h as opportunity off- 
 ered, and with much dextcity gave the animal a 
 thrust with his long knife, rtreating at the same 
 moment from within reach 01 its capacious jaws as 
 it whirled round upon th( cxfjiordinary pivot 
 which his companion had so succasfully placed in 
 its tail. The battle lasted about hlf an hour, ter- 
 minating in the slaughter of the aigator, and the 
 triumph of his conquerors, who .ere not long in 
 cutting him into pieces, and loacng their canoes 
 with his flesh, which they immeiatcly carried to 
 the shore, and retailed to their ountrjmcn. It 
 was evident that the success of tb plan depended 
 
 n the nerve and dexterity of the nan who pinned 
 
 I'e animal's tail to the ground. 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 266 
 
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 IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 BOSTON, SATURDAY, JUNE 5, 1858. 
 
 BRITISH AGGRESSIONS. 
 
 TUK ACTION OF 00NGREe8. 
 
 The British outrnges have fairly waked up some of the 
 more prominent leaders in Congress. In the Senate, eever- 
 al resolutions have been presented touching thequestion. 
 North and South, Democrats and Black Republicans, are 
 equally desirous to identify themselves wiih the popular 
 issue, which must swamp all other questions, and especially 
 those of a sectional character. For this, if for nothing 
 else, the Administration ought, aa it will uo doubt, wel- 
 come the difficulty with England as a Godsend. It is a 
 great national question, and will give the Administration a 
 chance to make a national reputation. 
 
 There can be no greater evidence of the force of public 
 opinion in this country, than the speed with which the voice 
 of the people has found an utterance from all kinds of par- 
 ty mouths in Congress; and the alacrity with which the 
 Administration seized on the popular desire to set the navy 
 department at work. In the Senate, the action on the sub- 
 ject is rather noteworthy. A few days back, a leading 
 Washington journal— The States— alluding to the desire of 
 some Senators to pick quarrels with insignificant powers 
 like Paraguay, tauntingly asked if there was *no Senator 
 with hot blood enough in his veins to call the great British 
 nation to account' for its aggressions on the American flag. 
 The next morning. Bright of Indiana, an Administration 
 Democrat, offered a resolution calling on the Executive for 
 information. The result was the prompt transmission of 
 General Cass' instructions to Mr. Dallas, the American 
 Minister at London. Seward then came out a step further 
 with a resolution inquiring of the committee on Foreign 
 Relations what legislation was necessary to give the Presi- 
 dent full power to protect the flag: it being a disputed legal 
 point whether the Executive could not act immediately. 
 G win of California came out with a bill against aggressions, 
 touching especially on our Mexican difliculties. Then 
 Mason of Virginia brought in a resolution touching the 
 seizure of the American vessel Panchita by the British, on 
 the African coast, and also embraced in it a call for still 
 further information on the Gulf aggressions. Thisis re- 
 garded as ominous, for Mason was lukewarm on Seward's 
 previous motion, and postponed action on it for a day 
 
 These were well in their way, but from their nature im- 
 plied delays consequent on official routine. Senator Doug- 
 las however, met the matter with his characteristic force 
 and decision. On the 24th of May he introduced a bill 
 which was read twice and referred to the committee on 
 Foreign relations. Douglas' bill is entitled 'an act to re- 
 strain and redress outrages upon the flag and citizens of 
 the United States', and is as follows:— 
 
 Be it enacted by the Senate and Houce of Representatives 
 of the United'States of America in Congress assembled— 
 That in case of flagrant violation of the laws of nations 
 by outrage upon the flag, soil or citizens of the United 
 States, or upon their property under circumstances requir- 
 ing prompt redress, and when, in the opinion of the Presi- 
 dent, delay would be incompatible with the dignity of the 
 Republic, the I'resident is hereby authorized to employ such 
 force as he may deem necessary to prevent the perj>etration 
 of such outragesaud to obtain just redress and satisiaction 
 for the same when perpetrated; and it shall be his duty to 
 lay the facts of each case, together with the reasons for his 
 action in the premises before Congress at the earliest prac- 
 ticable moment, for such further action thereon as Congress 
 may direct. 
 
 This bill is of the highest importance. It meets the ques- 
 tion fully, and provides for the immediate actiaa of the 
 President. By its very terms, it exhibits the largest conti- 
 dcnce in the judgment and patriotism of Mr. Buchanan, 
 at the same time that it provides for the (earless and forci- 
 ble protection or the people and commerce of the United 
 States. It prevents any excuses for non-action, if passed, 
 and completely overturns the procrastinating policy of di- 
 plomacy, at which the British ministers are such artful 
 dodgens. It is probably the most important move of the 
 stason, and may prove the greatest during the time of the 
 present Administration. As a peace or war measure it is 
 equally efficient. By giving the power of action thus 
 promptly into the hands of the l'rcBldent,it may stave off" 
 what would be inevitable, if inability to act allowed tlie 
 British to progress in their audacious seizures and search- 
 ings of American vessels. The whole country will be in- 
 debted to the Senator from Illinois. 
 
 As an evidence of this, and a most pleasing instance of 
 the nationality of the question, and the ground it affords for 
 the united action of all, we see already that the acrimonius 
 bed of the Kansas troubles is fading *iuto thin air' before 
 the blast which is calculated to agitate our foreign relations. 
 
 The Administration organ, the Union, which so wildly 
 attacked Douglan with all kinds of vituperation on a sec- 
 tional issue, adopts his measure for the settlement of a na- 
 tional one. In terms the most respectful and commendato- 
 ry, it endorses his bill as 'a measure of the greatest impor- 
 tance to the country,' and as 'rendering an efficient admin- 
 istration of the government popt-ihle. Tliia endorsement of 
 the Administration appeared the morning after Douglas' 
 bill was introduced, and is not only testimony which places 
 Douglas in the most enviable prominence in a national 
 point of view, but is an equally strong testimony of the 
 deep sense and statesmanship of the I'resident. 
 
 Thisis all well enough, but while measures are being ta- 
 ken to give the President power , other measures should also 
 be taken to see that the power is not an empty compliment. 
 There is little value in Congress voting leave to the Presi- 
 dent to use force, if he has not the force to use. 
 
 To this fact we shall address ourselves in the next num- 
 ber of our paper. 
 
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266 
 
 miSH MISCKLLANY. 
 
 Wrilleu for the Misccllanjr. 
 AN ACROSTIC. 
 
 Remember, my 001111117, ) "'"■ uiiiiiecrlbc<l tomb, 
 
 On wlik'h ntiould be wrilteu tbc SuMieunoirs (toom ; 
 
 Beueulh your Kreeu t«od thy dend martyr i« iHid — 
 
 £ulcr ipio the I'ikIiI niid be not nrraid ; 
 
 Kely uot 011 otlicre but tlo it nluiie. 
 
 To raiee liiiu 11 moiiumeul etruiicvr tbau elouo. 
 
 Erin ill juifit days, was Dot wont to bo cold, 
 Men Hi that time were not bought for gold; 
 Mighty she can be if unce more i^lie will try ; 
 Entering united, to couijueror die, 
 Till from her jioil she make the foreigner Hy. 
 
 STANZAS. 
 
 I would not quit my niitive land, nor further wish to roam; 
 Fordearto me its billowy strand and dear my childhood's 
 
 home. 
 And dear to me those hallowed plains that nursed so many 
 
 brave. 
 And dearer etill the ivy'd ruins, where lies my lather's 
 
 grave. 
 
 I would not quit my native land, nor roam beyond the 
 
 tide- 
 While scenes so dear lie all around — with friends on every 
 
 side; 
 But ah! those scenes in memory's ear, ring back snd tale 
 
 of woe: 
 They tell of famines, war and strife, that laid my kindred 
 
 low. 
 
 They tell ol strife 'twixl man and man and mony a heart- 
 less deed. 
 
 Enforced by laws on Cromwell's plan, to nourish discords 
 seed, 
 
 They tell how rancorous bigotry has crushed fair virtue's 
 train ; 
 
 Then why not rather quit the land than raise a hand in 
 vain T 
 
 In vain to stem the tide of ills that threaten Erin's plain. 
 Where shopmen strive for landlords sway, and all sink all 
 
 for gain ; 
 Where churchmen sleek — no odds what creed— in pageant 
 
 wealth lake pride; 
 Then who'd uot rather quit the land, than wait what these 
 
 betide? 
 
 Degenerate sons of nameless sires usurp our native soil, 
 >^ect in bands our useful hands, inured to cheerful toil, 
 lu well tilled plots and smiling cots tlicy'd show their mot- 
 tled kine. 
 And change the hamlet's e'cntidc song forgrunt of Ger- 
 man swine. 
 
 Then say not 'stay!' the words -away' beyond the Atlantic 
 
 wave. 
 Where freedom's banner found a sod, I'll Hnd a freeman's 
 
 grave; 
 Where hostile church nor landlord clutch no 'first fruits' 
 
 dare to claim, 
 I'll make a home, 'twill be my own— my own— how sweet 
 
 that name. B. 
 
 Cabircivecn. connly Kerry. 
 
 I SICH FOR THEE MV MARY DEAR. 
 
 I sigh for thee my JIary dear, 
 
 Thiswiiciiing hour of moonbeam's light-; 
 J breathe thy name and wish thee near 
 
 To cheer my lonely heart to-night. 
 
 Till lime unfolds the future morrow. 
 While absence veils my longing sight, 
 
 Hope's sweet wreath Irom love I'll borrow 
 To cheer my lonely heart to-night. 
 
 Ear. far from country, home and thee. 
 Thine eyes — those beacons pure and briglit- 
 
 ] soniy drt-'am they look for nie 
 To cheer my lonely heart to-night. 
 
 I sigh for thee, iny Jlarj- dear. 
 As fancy fondly wiugs its flight. 
 
 And wafts thee on its memory here. 
 To cheer my lonely heart to-night. 
 
 Written for the Miscellany. 
 
 'THE MILITARY ELEMENT IN THE IRISH 
 
 CHARACTER.' 
 
 II.LUHTIIATKr) Ftlo.M IMHTOItV. 
 
 Part .!. 
 When the treaty of Iiimcrick, tlint incd'acablo record 
 oriSritisli perliily was si;;ned, Irelniid witnessed b siid- 
 (Icr siyht than ever since lhronj;h nil her misfortunes, 
 has stirred the heart of the nation wiih n throb of sor- 
 row; — sadder timn the scene of that 'dark ship' bound 
 for a southern soa, liulinj; on the horizon and hearing 
 witliin its convict hull the noblest citizen of Irehind 
 •clothed and fettered as a felon;' — sadder than the 
 mos' sorrowful parting in that falal exodus, impelled 
 by the gaunt hand of famine, wliiirh robbed the coun- 
 try of its bonu and sinew, and Hun;; upon 11 strange 
 land millions of her people, to become tlie instruments 
 of that hind's prosperity, Imt of tlic ignorant and big- 
 ottcd portion of its masses the butt and scorn. 
 
 Ko gleam of sunshine chequered the waters of the 
 lordly Shannon that day, when depressed with sorrow 
 and the incertitude of tlie future, but sustained by the 
 consciousness of duty well fullillcd, and failli preserved 
 in spite of temptation and in contemjit of trcacherv, 
 tlie Irish army were borne away from the sliores of 
 their beloved country to sauctiry with the blood of 
 heroes tlie field of many a victory; but still animated 
 by tlie ho|)C that they were destined to return ere long, 
 and mea.sure swords with their ancient enemy in the 
 expedition then fitting out at Brest. But that hope 
 was not to be fulfilled; and — 
 
 'On far foreign shores, from Dunkirk to llelgrndc, 
 Lie the soldiers and chiefs of the Irish lirigaile.' 
 Oh! it was a sorrowful sight that flight of the 'Wild 
 Geese.' There, upon the deck, stood Sarsfield, his 
 lofty forehead gloomy with the presage of his coming 
 fate, when, on tlie lield of Landen, he poured out his 
 life-liloort, not leading an Irish squadron on I'ish .soil, 
 but at the head of a band of strangers in a foreign ser- 
 vice — having sacrificed rank, title and wealth for his 
 countr)', when, by one flash of his sword, he might 
 have obliterated every trace of that treaty, ratified at a 
 moment when the arrival of the French licet in the 
 Shannon could have transformed defeat into victory. 
 And there too, stood the chiefs of many a princely 
 honse, — O'Reilly, of Cavan, Mr. Mahon, of Mona- 
 ghan, O'Donncll, of Tyrconnel, Me Guire, of Ennis- 
 
 formation of his line aavcd tlio French from a disas- 
 trous defent. the necessary result of a surprise as rare 
 as it was inexcusable. 
 
 Independent of their rcsisllcss power in a charge 
 and tlioir unexampled steadiness under fire, the Irish 
 troops were prized for their value in irregular waifurc 
 the peculiar science of the l{a|-pniee. Thus at the 
 beige of Barcelona the Krcncli, nearly worn out by the 
 constant sallies of the garrison, having lost ten thou-- 
 and men in the trenches, were about 10 abandon the 
 seigc in despair. The hills arouiul were filled with 
 Spanish troops, who at intervals poured into the town 
 and re-inforced the garrison. It was evident that 
 unless they were dislod.;cd it would be impossible to 
 reduce the town. The French troojis were unequal to 
 the task and the seige would have, undoubtedly, to ho 
 raised; hut the dismounted dragoons of Dillon and 
 Clancnrthy were on the field; the dillicult passages 
 and rude crags of the mountains were no obstacles to 
 them. It was just the service they coveted, so rushing 
 up the sides of the mountaiss they soon drove the 
 Spaniards from tlieir fastnesses, grappling with them 
 on the summit of every crag, and forcing them impet- 
 uously throng''; each narrow defile. Thus also, when 
 in tlie year 170.3 Jlarshal Vendome attempted to make 
 ajunciion wtih the Elector of Bavaria, in the Tyrol, 
 the frowning precipices that hung over the Lago 
 Guardo brought his ten Ihousand splendid troops to a 
 stand. Irresistible in the open field, they were daunt- 
 ed by the frozen terrors of the Alps, where every de- 
 file was then transformed by the hardy mountaineers 
 into an imjiregnable fortress, where the qnivcring ice- 
 crags trembled beneath the light step of the chamois, 
 and defied the firmer foot of man. Vendome, in this 
 emergency, despaired of advancing. His orders from 
 his superior to make a junction with the Bavarians, 
 who were braving equal dangers on the German side 
 of the mountains, were peremptory; yet he expostu- 
 lated, declared the feat impossible, and asked permis- 
 sion to withdraw liis troops. Sterner mandate to 
 press on was the reply from headquarters; and in this 
 last extremiiy he appealed to Dillon — pointed to the 
 inaccessibl'j paths above them, and bade him lead his 
 hardy Irish into their rugged recesses. Dillon obeyed 
 with alacrity. From crag to crag he pursued the Tvr- 
 rolese, hunted them like their native deer across the 
 dark abysses, and where the entrenchments were im- 
 
 killen and U'Rourro, of Breflin, going forth from afflu- | pregnable the Irish scaled the face of lofty cliffs that 
 
 cnce and power to serve, without rank or pay, as mere 
 volunteers in a foreign service; — half-clad, half-starved 
 — their claims cruelly neglected by their new master — 
 sustained alone by the brave heart and stern integriiy 
 which ever carries the Irish genilcman through the 
 diflicultics of exile — supports him in spite of ruined 
 fortunes and broken hopes, and the scoHs of ignorant 
 and vulgar arrogance. 
 
 Through nil the bloody conflicts in which the Irish 
 exiles participated it would he in vain to follow them. 
 It is enough that impartial history has allotted to 
 them the foremost place in every danger, and that the 
 fortunes of a battle were never entrusted to them that 
 victory did not perch upon their standard. It is 
 enough lliat all Europe acknowledged their title to 
 
 no living thing but the wing of the eagle ever touched 
 before, and by a dashing onset turned the flank of the 
 mountaineers. The historian, O'Connor, gives a 
 graphic description of these feaiful passes. He says — 
 ■The passages were closed by entrenchments, con- 
 strucied by Austrian engineers and guarded by peas- 
 ants and regular miliiia. On viewing them they were 
 found impregnable in front; and in the rere, steep 
 precipices lifted their summits to the clouds, accessible 
 only to the wild animals of the Alps. There the eagle 
 built his nest, the chamois bounded from cliff to cliff, 
 and the bonquelin gambolled in the wantonness of his 
 freedom; but man had never been seen on these inac- 
 cessible summits. The Irish scaled these lofty cliffs, 
 and appearing in the rere of the entrenchments, so ter- 
 
 carry on ilicir banner the motto 'semper et uhique ' rifled the armed peasantry and a few regular troops 
 
 (3F' Owing to a l.trge share of other matter the lu- 
 cabrations of the 'Queer Covo' are unavoidably left 
 over till next week. In our next he will be rcdivivus, 
 and, it is expected, will spread himself 'like a green 
 bay horse.' Look out for him, for he's an 'untcr. 
 
 fidelcs — faithful always and everywhere; that almost 
 every nation in Europe, when direst threatened, sought 
 eagerly the aid of Irishmen within their ranks; thut so 
 desperate was their valor, so damaging to the enemy, 
 that the Puritans of England, when assailing the Irish 
 under Stalford at Cnrli.sle, declared, 'no quarter for 
 the Irish,' that Prince Eugene, at Lugara, paid the 
 highest honor to Irish heroism, when, after he hod 
 formed his line of battle, discovering by their scarlet 
 uniforms the position in which the French Marshal, 
 Vendome had placed the Irish of the brigade, he was 
 compelled to change the order of his forces, bv mov- 
 ing the elite of his army, then stationed on the left, to 
 the right wing, opposite the Irish, for he knew by hit- 
 ter experience, learned at Einbrnn and Guillesirc, ihat 
 the point of danger was where the Irish troops were 
 posted, that 'the van was the right of the Irish Brig- 
 ade.' And tlie delay caused by this change in the 
 
 who were with them, that after a few discharges, they 
 abandoned the entrenchments with the utmost ]ireci|>- 
 itation. 
 
 Dillon caused several fires to blaze on the summits' 
 of the mountains, in order to magnify his detatchment 
 into a large body, in the eyes of the garrison and in- 
 habitants of Riva. The lieutennntcolonel comm'uid- 
 ant, having marched out a regular body of troops to 
 reconnoitre, and finding Dillon's detachment inconsid- 
 erable, relumed to defend the town; but the citizens, 
 apprehensive of the horrors of being taken by storm, 
 shut their gates, and sent a deputation to Diiloi with 
 the keys. Uc enicred in triumph. Uis detachment 
 was regaled with refreshments, and possessed ilicm- 
 selves of several pieces of cannon and considerable 
 ammunition. 
 
 It was thus that the Irish distingushed themselves 
 
 in this mode of warfare. What they were capable of 
 
 accomplishing in o;lier branches of the service we shall 
 
 see as we follow the brigade into Italy. 
 
 [To be Continued.] 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 267 
 
 CORRESPONDENCE. 
 
 Dublin, May 6tli, 1858. 
 There is but little news in the political world, 
 possessing much interest for your readers. In Ire- 
 land, everything is ' stale, flat, and unprofitable.' 
 The tenant-right bill is staved otl'to a day so remote, 
 that it is eqnivalant to a decision not to dismiss the 
 question. Yet, we are asked to look to tlie parlia- 
 ment of England, for a redress of gricvences. It is, 
 thank God, becoming a potent fact, that Irishmen 
 )\ave no need to apply to this parliament for a redress 
 of the evils under which we groan ; and the sooner 
 we come to a determination to take our affairs into 
 our own hands, the better it will be for us., 'Tenant- 
 right,' at present, is tenant humbug. It is a delu- 
 sion, a mockery. It is an infringement upon the 
 ' riglits of property,' and will never be conceded so 
 long as those ' rights' are respected. 
 
 The 'rights of property,' as understood here, are 
 the right of a landlord to do whatever he thinks 
 proper with the land of which he, or his ancestors, 
 Jias robbed the rightful possessor. Until it is clear- 
 ly understood that the landlord has no such right — 
 that the right of the tenant to live by his labor upon 
 the soil is more sacred than that of the landlord — 
 that the foundation of all property is labor — that 
 the landlord has no right of extermination — until 
 this is thoroughly understood, it is vain to expect 
 compensation or justice for the tenant. The truth 
 is, we have a high, but false notion as to the rights 
 of property. Our ideas and laws require a revolu- 
 tion in this as in other respects ; and until we learn 
 to trample upon the so called ' rights ' of the land- 
 lord, it is in vain to expect a proper settlement of 
 this question. 
 
 Exterminations in the north are the order of the 
 day. The ' crowbar brigade,' are in full employ- 
 ment, and our poor people arc being drawn, in large 
 numbers, from the soil their sweat has made profit- 
 able. This is the old tale, and will have to be re- 
 peated until we drive England and her laws from 
 the island. 
 
 France looks upon England with jealousy, and 
 quietly prepares for the coming struggle. Pelissier 
 toasts the eternal alliance of the two great nations, 
 with the same sincerity that his Master swore to 
 maintain the republic. We shall have fun one of 
 these days, at least such is the hope of 
 
 AVOXDHU. 
 
 Ddblin, May 13, 1858. 
 
 In my last communication, I ventured upon an 
 intimation that the capture of Lucknow would not, 
 after all prove such an important acquisition as was 
 expected. The problem remains to be solved, if 
 Lucknow ha3 not captured an immense army with 
 England's ablest commander. I can assure you, 
 from the tone of the press, and recent discussions in 
 parliament, that considerable apprehension is felt 
 for the army which so recently battered the beauti- 
 ful city of Lucknow to pieces. It is somewhat sin- 
 gular that we do not get the exact numbers of troops 
 engaged in the assault. The numbers of certain 
 Brigades and Divisions are given, but those of oth- 
 ers omitted. However, we learn enough to say that 
 the British troops mustered in overwhelming num- 
 bers, and England had an army engaged in the con- 
 test of which she might feel proud. What has she 
 effected by it ? She has seized a deserted city, the 
 garrison with all the honors of war, retiring to re- 
 new the fight again and again. 
 
 The hot season is coming on ; indeed, the natives 
 here have already ca.st off their winter garments, and 
 assumed those of lighter fabric, more adapted to the 
 season. What is to become of poor Europeans un- 
 der the burning sim of India in a few weeks hence : 
 Our noble lords and commoners may well fear for 
 the army in India. The destroying angel, in the 
 form of sickness and pestilence, will shortly become 
 
 a more terrible enemy to cope with than Sepoys. 
 Deatli will thin the ranks of British bnttallions, and 
 thousands of our own countrymen will whiten the 
 jungles and ravines of India with their bones, yield- 
 ing up their lives for a government which oppresses 
 and plunders them at home, and denies them the 
 consolations of religion when expiring on its battle 
 fields ! 
 
 The poor fellows, thirteen in number, who liave 
 been so long imprisoned upon a cliarge of stealing 
 Englisii and Scotch sheep, in the county of Done- 
 gal, have at last been admitted to bail ; it now ap- 
 pearing that there is no positive testimony against 
 them ; the Solicitor General wishing to keep them 
 several months longer in jail, with the hope that 
 something would ' turn up ' against them. Such is 
 ' English law ' in Ireland ! 
 
 A series of important papers upon the relations 
 between France and England, are appearing in the 
 ' Monitieur,' the organ of the Catholic church in 
 France. It is well known that such could not ap- 
 pear in a French paper, without the consent of the 
 French government. This, and the important 
 truths so eloquently told, gives much force to 
 them. One translated for the ' Catholic Telegraph," 
 I sendherewith. 
 
 The weather is becoming fine, and the young 
 w^heat looks promising. Indeed, everywhere we 
 have indications of an abundant harvest. This, as 
 you know, is our only hope and dependence, when 
 this fails, all is lost to us. We are purely an agri- 
 cultural nation, none finer in the world for its size ; 
 yet it is very common to meet here with very bad 
 farming. Our farmers could teach the world the 
 business of farming, but owing to the grasping, 
 avaricious feelings of needy landlords, and bad 
 agents, they are compelled to leave the land com- 
 paratively unfilled. The tenant knows that his 
 improvements would be no profit to himself, that 
 they would all be absorbed by the landlord, and 
 consequently, he leaves his land neglected. If we 
 had a different system of landlordism, or if it was 
 abolished altogether our country would be a beau- 
 tiful garden, and teem with nature's choicest pro- 
 ductions. But, alas ! this I am afraid, is not to be 
 for some time to come. 
 
 There is not much emigration taking place from 
 here this season ; our people begin to discover that 
 in a time of general panic it is not a bad place to 
 live in. Avoxdhii. 
 
 THE GREAT BOCS OF IRELAND. 
 
 nr B. H. HORNE. 
 
 'A certahi man dying left a hidden treasure to bis sons, 
 which he said was buried in the lands round about their 
 home. So they dug and delved, and tilled and toiled, to 
 find it; and by degrees the bnrvesls improved and brought 
 them much gold. And the sons felt an houest pride in the 
 reward of their labors, and the success of their search. '— 
 Old Fable. 
 
 The late Leman Rede, the dramatist, who suffered 
 many painful difficulties for some time before liis de- 
 cease, used to say 'Work day and night — exert your- 
 self to the utmost — ruin your health — struggle to the 
 last — it very seldom brings you any success, and never 
 any permanent relief, if ruin has once got hold of you; 
 — but only cease to make ihe slightest cll'ort to help 
 yourself — do nothing whatever to deserve success — 
 and throw yourself flat upon your back, with your 
 heels kicking in tlic air, and cry quack! qiiack! and 
 you at once excite sympathy, admiration, and benevo- 
 lence, and get plenty of assistance!' Though ludi- 
 crously exaggerated, there is no doubt some truth at 
 the bottom of thi^ so fur as relates to individuals; but 
 most certainly it docs not apply to nations. Nations 
 in distress, like Italy, Poland and Mexico — and above 
 all, Ireland, may obtain assistance for a time, by cry- 
 ing aloud lor it — by showing tlieir wounds and their 
 want.a, and by doing nothing (and pcrliapj without 
 help, being able to do nothing,) for themselves; but to 1 undulating surfaces.' 
 
 obtain any permanent and progressive good, nations 
 must work for their own redemption. 
 
 It is of Ireland that we would speak; not in tho 
 hopeless or the reproachful tone in which she is almost 
 universally addressed, not even in the tone of commis- 
 eration (though feeling it nevertheless,) nor as 'that 
 unfortunate country,' — a country to which Providence 
 has been so bountiful, and man so blind; — but in the 
 voice of congratulation and of exhortation, since tho 
 means of her gradual emancipation from her present 
 misery, and ferocity, and folly, and degradation, are 
 now hopefully within view. 'Help yourself, and your 
 friends will love you,' is a hitter satire upon friends, in 
 the ordinary acceptation of that much abused terra; 
 but it also contains the soundest practical philosophy 
 of action. Not in the position of a man lying flat 
 upon his back and kicking wildly in the air; while he 
 cries aloud for help, must Ireland lie; she must no 
 longer remain prostrate, to shame us and herself, .and 
 all civilized nations; she must be 'up and doing;' and 
 one of the best things she can possibly do by way of 
 beginning, has been, we think, very clearly demon- 
 strated by the 'Irish Amelioration Society,' in its pro- 
 ject with regard to peat-fuel and peat-charcoal. 
 
 In order to make the practicability of this design ap. 
 parent— a design which has for its chief object the 
 constant employment of tens of thousands of the peas- 
 antry, and the revival of manufacture and trade in Ire- 
 land — it will be requisite first, to show that the means 
 for effecting this are of tho most extensive and almost 
 inexh.austible kind. Let us therefore begin with some 
 account of the Irish bogs, from which all this incalcu- 
 lable mass of peat-fuel aud peat-charcoal is to be pro- 
 duced. 
 
 It is not generally known, among the various Gov- 
 ernment Commissions, in the prosecution of which in- 
 defatigable inquiries are made, countless evidences 
 written down, and elaborate reports printed — where- 
 upon the government docs 'nothing,' — that there have 
 also been Bog Commissioners. These gentlemen per- 
 formed their arduous task with much care and assidu- 
 ity, and then- reports are before us. From these, and 
 the admirable work of Sir Robert Kane, 'On the In- 
 dustrial Resources of Ireland,' (added to personal 
 travel through many of the great bog districts) the 
 following account is abstracted in as few words as pos- 
 sible. 
 
 In the formation of bogs, a certain moss, of the kind 
 kind called sphagnum, is universally regarded as a 
 principal agent, and a superabundance of moisture, as 
 the inducing cause. Various opinions have been en- 
 tertained and argued, in order to account for the pres- 
 ence of this moisture, but into these we must not en- 
 ter. Suffice it to say — a shallow pool induced and 
 favored the vegetation of acquatic plants, which grad- 
 ually crept in from the borders towards the deeper 
 centre. Mud accumulated round their roots and stalks, 
 and a spongy, semi-fluid mass was thus formed, well 
 fitted for the growth of moss, which now, especially 
 sphagnum, began to luxuriate. This, absorbing a 
 large quantity of water, and continuing to shoot out 
 new plants above, while the old were decaying, rot- 
 ting and compressing into a solid substance below, 
 gradually replaced the water by a mass of vegetable 
 matter. 'In this manner,' says the Bog Reports, 'the 
 marsh might be filled up, while the central, or moister 
 portion, continuing to exolle a more rapid growth of 
 the moss, it would be gradually raised above the edges 
 until the whole surface had attained an elevation suffi- 
 cient to discharge the surface water, by existing chan- 
 nels of draining, and calculated by its slope to facili- 
 tate their passage, when a limit would be in some de- 
 gree set to its further increase. Underneath the bog, 
 or close upon its borders, springs are sometimes found, 
 which might still favor its growth, though in a de- 
 creasing ratio; and here — if the water proceeding from 
 them were so obstructed as to accumulate at its base, 
 and to keep it in a rotten fluid state — the surface of 
 the bog might he ultimately so raised, and its contin- 
 uity below so totally destroyed, as to cause it to flow 
 over the retaining obstacle, and flood the adjacent 
 country. Such is the process over the level, and the 
 
268 
 
 IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 The progress of tlio jihcnomcnon in mountninom 
 Jistricts is similar. I'ools, indeed, ciinnot in so many 
 instances be formed, the steep slopes fnciliutint,' drain- 
 ago ; but the i-louds and mists, resting on the summits 
 and sides of the mountiiins, amply supply their surface 
 with moisture, wliieh comes, too, in the most favoriilile 
 form for vegetation — not in a sudden torrent, but un- 
 ceasingly and gently, drop by drop. It will hence bo 
 understood, that the great bogs of Ireland cover many 
 hills and lofty mountains, and sometimes ri.-ie to the 
 very summits of the highest, so that their dark crowns 
 of bog-peat may bo seen above the driving clouds. 
 
 The Bog-Commissioners have published bog-maps 
 OS well as reports ; an excellent bog-map has been 
 made by Mr. Jasper Uogcrs, and a verj- neat little map, 
 distinguishing the red bog of the lowlands from that of 
 the moor or mountains, is also given in Sir Kobert 
 Kane's work. The appearance of these maps is very 
 striking, and shows at a glance the immensity of these 
 two millions of acres; and of these two millions eight 
 hundred and thirty thousand acres are of bog. Of 
 these bogs there arc 1,576,000 acres of flat [bug, and 
 1,254,000 are mountjiin bog. Subsequent measure- 
 ments give a yet larger extent, showing that the total 
 area of bogs in Ireland may fairly be estimated at 
 3,000,000. 
 
 Now, when it is stated, in conclusion, that the depth 
 of this vast expanse averages eight teet of solid bog- 
 peat; but that it varies from four feet to twenty feet 
 deep, and occasionally reaches the extraordinary depth 
 of thirty or forty feet of bog , the enormous mass must 
 at once be understood as too large forcnlculation. If, 
 therefore, this mass can be worked upon, so as to be 
 turned to profitable account, no one can deny but there 
 is abundance of raw material' for the purpose. 
 
 Since the main qualities of the bog-peat are the 
 same in every district, if one portion can be turned to 
 profit, in several forms for which there is certain to be 
 a continuous demand, it may follow that the whole can 
 bo turned to a continuous i)rotit ; and at the same time 
 relieve the famine and miseries of the peasantry. This 
 remains to be shown. 
 
 Let us first consider the bog-peat as a fuel. 
 
 Turf, or bog-peal, is no doubi extensively used in 
 Ireland as a fuel, but by no means to one tithe of the 
 extent to which it is applicable. No proper means 
 have hitherto been adopted for drying it. The peas- 
 antry, and all those who prepare it (or sale, simply dry 
 it in the open air, so that the result is often of a very 
 ditTcrent kind from the desired one, and is always at 
 the mercy of the weather. A single night of drench- 
 ing rain may defeat the labor of months, and postpone 
 if not destroy, the chances of jirofit for weeks to come, 
 during which the laborers arc half starved. They arc 
 too poor to dry it by any artificial means, or 10 protect 
 the peat-ricks from the rain. Here there is a large 
 field for certjiin and easy practical improvement of an 
 important kind. 
 
 Peat, when properly cut into the usual turf bricks, 
 and jiropcrly dried, can be used as a fuel for all domes- 
 tic purposes. It is peculiarly economical for cooking, 
 ius it ignites sooner than coal, and surrounds the vessel 
 with a general heat, while coal acts principally upon 
 the bottom of the vessel. For household uses, and 
 trades, such as brewing, sugar-refining, soap-boiling, 
 distillation, .tc, it is peculiarly applicable ; and equal- 
 ly so for kiln purposes, such as dr}-ing grain, mall, 
 hops, peas, beans, as shown by the Irish Amelioration 
 Society. 
 
 Of equal importance, moreover, in this our age of 
 slcam-boats and railroads, are the advantages to be de- 
 rived from the use of peat for steam-boilers. It gives 
 out a greater quantum of steam from a given surface 
 than coal, by reason of the equality of its heat ; and as 
 it emits no sulphurous vapor, a boiler heated by it will 
 last a much longer time. Besides this. Sir Robert 
 Kane says, that 'there is no liability [to that burning 
 away of the metal, which may arise from local inten- 
 sity of the heat of coke or coal.' These facts have all 
 been established by the experiments of Mr. Burstall, 
 of Bristol, in the use of turf with a high pressure ea- 
 
 gine ; by the experiments of Mr. C. W. AVilliams, of 
 the Ireland Navigation Company ; by those of Mr. 
 Wickstead, of Cornwall ; and by its exclusive use by 
 the steamboats of the Upper Shannon, together with 
 various distilleries and mills. 
 
 The importance of peat, as a fuel for all household 
 purposes, and for the operations of innumerable arts 
 and trades, has been fully recognized on llio contincnii 
 and even in Russia. It may be seen, from the ' Peters- 
 burgh Journal of ManufdClures,' of 1842, that there is 
 an association in Russia, expressly for the manufacture 
 of turf; and there is now an immense quantity raised 
 every year from tlio marshes in the vicinity of Mos- 
 cow, and from other places. This is not effected with- 
 out many difiicullies, independent of the fact, that the 
 bottoms of these marshes remain frozen till nearly the 
 end of June so that no turf can be raised till the 
 month of July. Yet here is Ireland, with thick 
 layers of turf, covering upwards of one seventh 
 part of the whole surface of the country, and with 
 a climate so mild that the process of cutting it may 
 be carried on during nine months in tke year; here 
 is Ireland, leaving these enormous masses of her 
 native fuel comparatively unused, and draining 
 away from her impoverished and half-starved peo- 
 ple the sura of nearly £2,000,000 sterling a year, 
 paid to England for sending her coals! 'It may be 
 ascertained,' says Mr. Jasper Rogers, 'from the 
 custom house entries of Ireland, that she has im- 
 ported coal witliin the last half century, at the cost 
 of above seventy millions of money!' every shilling 
 of which she might have kept at home, giving her- 
 self, while she did so, a much cheaper fuel, and 
 giving her people employment. 
 
 In describing the various conditions, and the specific 
 gravi y of the turf, which increases with the compact- 
 ness of the structures, as the bog descends. Sir Robert 
 Kane says, 'near the surface it is light-colored, spongy 
 and contains the vegetable remains, but little altered. 
 Deeper it is brown, denser, and more decomposed; 
 and finally, at the base of the greater bogs, (some of 
 which present a depth of forty feet,) the mass of turf 
 assumes the black color, and nearly the density of 
 coal, to which it approximates very much in chemical 
 composition.' It only remains to add, that all cxpe- 
 mcnts have proved that this peat, when properly cut 
 and prepared, can be used with an equal or superior 
 efl'cct to coal, and at half the price. This result has 
 been apparent even with the present very defective 
 methods of cutting, drying, and preserving the turf. 
 
 We have now to consider the uses of peat in its con- 
 version into charcoal. 
 
 If it can be shown that this peat is capable of being 
 converted into a charcoal of a very fine (luality, its im- 
 portance in the making of iron — in fact, as a fuel for 
 the smelting and manufacture of all the metals, will 
 at once be apparent; more especially as this can be 
 done at a much less price than by any process at pres- 
 ent employed. 
 
 'An erroneous impression exists, that carbonized 
 peat is so friable and volatile, as to be unfilled for the 
 purjioses for which charcoal of wood is generally 
 used; and hence the belief that it cannot be made 
 available for that grand object to England, the smelt- 
 ing and preparation of iron; but for which it is in fact 
 eminently filled. Peat charcoal can be made even 
 more dense than that from wood; its purity is fully 
 ci|nal; and the cost about one-fourth. Its value, 
 therefore, for ths production of iron, is almost incalcu- 
 lable, not alone on the score of enabling the iron-mas- 
 ter to command the English market, to the exclusion 
 of foreign iron.' 
 
 The foregoing remark is pregnant with meaning ; 
 nor is what follows less worthy of serious attention : 
 
 ' Ju'it in proportion to the quantity of peat and 
 peat-charcoal used in the general preparation will 
 be the stability of iron and the safety of the public 
 generally ; for it is impossible to know when even 
 the best coal-made iron may have become unsound 
 by an over-action of sulphur in its preparation. The 
 
 value of peat-fuel for making iron has been long 
 proved on the continent, and England has been be- 
 hind hand, merely because of her abundanecof coal. 
 Had she felt the slightest want of fuel for her fur- 
 naces, she would long since have sought that which 
 the Irish bog can give her so abundantly, 
 
 ' For the manufacture and forging of all descrip- 
 tion of iron- work, peat-charcoal possesses singularly 
 desirable qualities : the iron is improved by the 
 action of the carbon, and its strength and mal- 
 leability increased ; while the calorific effect of the 
 charcoal being considerably greater than any smith's 
 coal, the cost is not more in reality. In fact, inferior 
 iron, forged by peat-charcoal, is more capable of 
 being worked into didieult forms, than superior," 
 forged by coal ; and is sounder, and more fitted for 
 resisting concussion ; a circumstance invaluable at 
 the present time, when the want of strength and 
 soundness in iron-work upon the railways may cause 
 such fearful loss of life.' — See Jasper Rogers, on 
 Commercial Advantages. 
 
 Nor is this use of peat-charcoal a novel experi- 
 ment, rife with doubt, and liable to be classed with 
 visionary schemes and wild speculations. Ithasal- 
 ready been employed in metallic manufactories in 
 France, in Germany, in Bavaria, in Bohemia. M'hy 
 is England, who is generally first in the art and 
 practice of war, one of the last countries in most of 
 the arts of peace ? In war .she commonly leads, 
 while in nearly everything else she follows : — with 
 hasty blindness in matters of taste, and often with 
 a sort of mania in respect of some of the fine arts, 
 but very doggedly in all scientific, commercial, and 
 social improvements. Nevertheless, she has all the 
 capacities in her people and in her native resources 
 (wealth inclusive) of being foremost in all good 
 things. A\'hy so frequently the last ? Because her 
 ' frcdoom ' is a comparative rather than a complete 
 and positive poissession, and the vital energies of her 
 people are repressed on many sides. We arc not 
 allowed to move on half as fast as the increase of 
 knowledge warrants and demands. 
 
 In France (in the department of Landes) there are 
 works producing the finest kind of iron, and using 
 nothing but pcat-eharcoal as fuel in its manufac- 
 ture. In Bavaria there are iron-works which em- 
 ploy it ; one of them (at Konigsbrunn) carries on 
 the whole operation of fusion, puddling, re-heating, 
 and rolling, solely by peat fuel. Similar operations 
 arc carried on in Bohemia, particularly at Ransko ; 
 and M. MuUcr, of M'adcnhammer, as well as the 
 conductor of the iron-works at Wachter-Ncunhani- 
 mar (Germany,) both leading manufacturers, have 
 proved by repeated experiments, that when an equal 
 quantity of peat-charcoal was used instead of wood- 
 charcoal, there was a greater produce from the ore; 
 and that this increase was also obtained when peat- 
 charcoal was mixed in an equal portion with wood- 
 charcoal (instead of using wood-charcoal only,) and 
 the iron was excellent in both eases. A full account 
 of all these experiments will be found in the report 
 of the French commissioners, entitled Voyage M<;- 
 tallurgique Angleterrc. 
 
 A\'hy do our manufacturers send to Sweden and 
 Russia for such large iiuntities of iron ? and why 
 is the bar of English iron .sold at £G per ton, while 
 the bar-iron of Russia and Sweden produce £1.5 per 
 ton, or £25 per ton, and, for the finest quality, £35 
 per ton ? "Why do dreadful accidents, ocea.sioning 
 a lo.ss of many lives, so often occur from the break- 
 ing of iron-work on our railways and bridges, and 
 the bursting of boilers r and why arc iron steam 
 vessels likely to be abandoned, after so many great 
 hopes and such prodigious sums having been ex- 
 pended upon them, both with a view to them as 
 vessels of commerce, of transit, and of war ? The 
 solution is easy. 
 
 England possesses coal-pits to an extent almost 
 inexhaustible ; all our great smelting operations 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 269 
 
 nrp, consequently, cnrried on by the use of coal. 
 Kut all iron smelted by coal must be impure, be- 
 cause coal emits a sxilphurous vapor. In all cases, 
 therefore, the iron ■will be more or loss impure, lui- 
 mallealilc, and brittle, in some part or other. ' The 
 simple action,' says Mr. Jasper llogers, ' of a jet of 
 sulphurous vapor, issuing from the coal that either 
 makes, or forges the iron which composes a railway 
 axle, or a rail, may cause the loss of life of himclreds, 
 although no human eye can see the evil in the work. 
 And this is within proof of all who please to try it. 
 A\lierevcr tliis jet strikes, as it issues from the fuel, 
 it perfectly deprives that part of malleability ; and 
 subsequent concussion, acting upon it in this state, 
 makes it fracture with almost equal certainty to 
 cast-iron.' It appears that iron steam vessels will 
 be abandoned, and all the cost of invention, experi- 
 ment, and outlay wasted, because the iron readily 
 splits upon rocks, contrary to the scientific opinion, 
 and because a cannon ball splinters the plates, in- 
 stead of making a round hole, contrary to the ex- 
 pectation of men of science. But science was right ; 
 the bottom of an iron vessel ought not to split read- 
 ily upon rocks, and the hole made by a cannon ball 
 in the plates of her sides ought to be round (with 
 ragged edges inside,) provided always that the iron 
 were pure and malleable. Why it is otherwise, has 
 been showni ; and thus a new class of shipbuilding 
 of very great importance seems likely to be set aside, 
 merely ' for want of an explanation of facts.' We 
 trust it is not too late. 
 
 Ireland possesses the means of preparing irons of 
 superior quality, if not equal to the finest, at least 
 to the Baltic iron, which is regularly imported. All 
 that is needed are pure ores and a vegetable fuel of 
 a'peculiar kind. Both of them are abundant in 
 Ireland. ' It can easOy be understood,' says Sir 
 Kobert Kane, ' that the manufacture of iron by 
 turf is not thought worthy of notice in England. On 
 the continent, however, where the promotion of na- 
 tive industry is an object of primary importance, 
 and where the limited development of the coal dis- 
 tricts oblige them to economise every source of fuel, 
 it has been not merely tried, but is extensively car- 
 ried on at present in France, in Prussia, and in Ba- 
 varia.' To this testimony may be added, that, not 
 only has fine iron been produced by this process, 
 even with the inferior turf of Scotland, but iron suf- 
 ficiently pure for the finest cutlery, as evidenced by 
 the manufacture of razors on the Scotch estates of 
 Lord Willoughby D'Eresby. That nothing what- 
 ever of the kind has yet been effected in Ireland, 
 with all her prodigious advantages close at hand, on 
 almost every side, must be chiefly attributed to what 
 the Kev. G. 11. Stoddart (honorary secretary to the 
 United Relief Association) so aptly characterises as 
 a 'perfect infatuation of despondency in men of 
 science, patriotic capitalists, and political econo- 
 mists.' There is but too much truth in the remark. 
 
 It has now been shown, thus far, that the objects 
 of the Irish Amelioration Society are likely to prove 
 ot the most practical as well as the most extensive- 
 ly benevolent and important kind ; and they will 
 also prove, if fairly and thoroughly carried out, of 
 an equal importance to England, groaning as she 
 does under the burden of Ireland's ancient wrongs, 
 her present miseries, and imperative wants ; her fits 
 of madness (which is no wonder, but a natural re- 
 sult of such a condition ;) and now again the blight 
 of her potatoe-crop, and the certain starvation of 
 thousands, with insun'cctions and disease, and a 
 worse state of things in their train than we have yet 
 witnessed in that most fertile and mismanaged coun- 
 try. 
 
 Are we never to do anything of a permanent kind 
 for our own sake in this matter, as well as for that 
 of Ireland ? 
 
 The offices of humanity are debts that we owe to 
 all mankind. 
 
 From the Cutlmlic Telcgriipli. 
 
 TRANSLATIONS FROM THE FOREIGN 
 
 JOURNALS. 
 
 ENGLAND, KUSSIA, AND ASTA. 
 
 In the question of the refugees, as in all others, 
 the secret of the English policy towards France is 
 principally in Asia. A future is in preparation 
 there, of whicli England wishes to constitute her- 
 self solo mistress, persuaded that she will find not a 
 maintenance, but an increase of her limitless fortune. 
 For England merely to keep what she has is nothing. 
 She is compelled to increase it. Pride and ambi- 
 tion have created wants for her in proportion as 
 means are given to her to satisfy them ; she fears 
 not to irritate them, and place herself under the ne- 
 cessity of still more amply gratifying them. She 
 therefore requires to devour new peoples, new 
 worlds. Asia is the prey which she reserves for 
 herself. She is wildly dreaming of playing the part 
 in China which she has already performed in India. 
 She calculates on this ; her plans, fomied long ago, 
 are in a fair way of execution. She will follow them 
 up with that tenacity that shrinks not from the em- 
 ployment of any means whatever. 
 
 Nevertheless, a rival is rising up in the face of 
 England as powerful as herself, as ambitious, al- 
 though of an ambition more lofty, not less perse- 
 vering, and capable of pursuing a policy no less 
 crafty; that rival is Russia. Up to this, Russia has 
 consented to share the prey with her, merely 
 waiting for an opportunity to seize the entire of it. 
 A third partner and participator of the immense 
 possessions which the East is, as it were, compelled 
 to disgorge, would be one too many. England won't 
 hear of France's interfering in Asia, except in a 
 subordinate character, solely as a help and vassal of 
 British power, to concur in its designs, that is, to 
 subserve its interests. Besides, the interests of 
 England in Asia are so personal, and, to use the 
 proper term, so barbarous, that France would not 
 pardon herself for being connected with them. 
 Doubly humiliated by playing a part with a power 
 that mnkes the question of civilization and human- 
 ity subordinate to the question of lucre. France 
 conceives in her soul one of those profound mortifi- 
 cations and feelings of remorse which other nations 
 do not experience and which incense her even to 
 madness against herself. 
 
 No doubt, France might stand aloof, and confin- 
 ing her action to Europe, leave England and Russia 
 to carry on their struggles thus far away from her 
 empire. Despoiled of our finest colonies, inferior 
 in maratime strength, overwhelmed by the spirit 
 of revolution, continually re-plunged into troubles 
 the moment we imagine ourselves safe out of them, 
 unable to form or preserve any alliance, reduced 
 during the last three quarters of a century to the 
 necessity of living by expedients, we allow ourselves 
 to be very easily persuaded against distant enter- 
 prises. What have we to do with them ? A\'e have 
 neither the means nor the spirit of great merchants. 
 That is the proper sphere of the English, because 
 they are islanders. We are essentially Continent- 
 al. Let us remain on the Continent. Some for- 
 tunate windfall may enable us to obtain something 
 on the frontier ; one canton in Europe is worth an 
 empire in Asia. 
 
 If, thanlis to Heaven, we have not contrived to 
 strike out entire peoples from the world, we cannot 
 forget our numerous colonies, obtained by the 
 courage, wisdom, and humanity of our forefathers, 
 but which the violence of the stranger, profiting by 
 our divisions, has alone wrested from us. If we 
 do not possess the means of great merchants, what 
 prevents our acquiring them ? Up to the period of 
 the first revolution, the French marine was at least 
 equal to that of the most powerful state. It has 
 perished through the folly and impiety of our dis- 
 
 cords, but it was the wish of France to raise and 
 re-establish it again, and for this end, four thousand 
 millions have been voted and paid since the time of 
 the patriotic appeal of Baron Portal, Minister of 
 Marine, under the Restoration. What ! with ports 
 on two seas, with maratime populations so intelli. 
 gent and so valiant, with ollicersso daring, with en- 
 gineers so skilful — with such brilliant recollections, 
 with such bitter defeats, and in fine with so much 
 eagerness amongst us to multiply the necessary sac- 
 rifices — with all these advantages, we are neverthe- 
 less condemned to possess merely a second-rate 
 marine ! France submits to this reduction, but she 
 does not accept it ; she submits to it with an unea- 
 siness which changes alternately into suffering and 
 delirium, because an instinct from above, as it were, 
 continually exclaims that she ought to be delivered 
 from it. To this sentiment of a becoming self-regard 
 or rather honor, which, far above all material ad- 
 vantage, urges her not to remain inactive in the im- 
 mediate changes and the future partition of Asia — 
 to this sentiment of self-esteem there is added an- 
 other of an order infinately more noble — namely, a 
 prescience, seemingly inspired by Heaven, of the just 
 interests which are at stake in the future. This sen- 
 timent is' new. It has been born, and has grown 
 without the knowledge of statesmen. It is, in brief, 
 the Catholic sentiment. We perceive whilst writing 
 this, the disdainful smile of certain sages, let these 
 deign to listen, 
 
 WHY ENGLAND DESIKES TO EXCLUDE CATHOLICISM 
 TKOM CHINA. 
 
 But this just and honorable demand England can- 
 not allow us to obtain, because the opium afiair is 
 mixed up with it. The English Minister of the gos- 
 pel is also a commercial agent. The conscience of 
 the catechumens of the College of St. Paul at Hong 
 Kong, a kind of Anglican imposture, is constituted 
 in precise conformity with the instincts of the city 
 of London, and the East India Company of which 
 they will be the factors. The Catholic missioners, 
 considering that the smokers of opium commit sui- 
 cide by means of debauch and brutalization, excom- 
 municate them. When a Catholic gives himself to 
 this vice, which becomes at once incurable, he is 
 cut off from the number of the faithful. This rem- 
 edy is alone efficacious against a contagion which 
 everywhere produces incalculable ruin, and which 
 has already killed, and will yet kill, millions of men. 
 So that if an entire Chinese province were to be- 
 come Catholic, it would be a province entirely closed 
 against opium by the only customs' house which 
 British cannon are unable to destroy. England can- 
 not, therefore, permit the progress of the church in 
 the Chinese empire. 
 
 Hence the religious interest, which it is the duty 
 of France to protect, is an additional reason why the 
 English interest should keep Franoe away from 
 China. Now let us see what is the state of Euro- 
 pean interests on the vast theatre of Asia. Let us 
 dare to view more closely the future which the ab- 
 stentation to which the English policy dares to con- 
 fine us will bring us in Europe. 
 
 We shall soon discover that the pretended equili- 
 brium established by the treaty of 181-5, to the detri- 
 ment of Catholicity still more than of France, and 
 which has weighed so cruelly upon our foreign af- 
 fairs, exists no longer. The enormous expansion of 
 England and Russia hBS destroyed even the empty 
 form of equilibrium. It has produced, and will 
 produce to a still greater extent for France and eve- 
 ry other Catholic nation a position of inferiority from 
 which honor, good sense, nay, even the interests of 
 civilization, equally call upon them to enmncipate 
 themselves. 
 
 'Mr. B.'s compliments to Mr. C; thinks it un- 
 necessary his piggs should go through his grounds.' 
 Reply — ' Mr. C.'s compliments to Mr. B.; thinks it 
 equally unnccessarj- to spell pigs with two gees.' 
 
270 
 
 IHISU MISCELLANY. 
 
 THE RETORT COURTEOUS. i A rcvciw wns ordered. The salute was given, 
 
 When Lord wu9 govemor-gencml of India, and nil wont off well. 
 
 the U:th regiment (I give this cypher beeiuise such That evening the governor-general gave n grand 
 
 a regiment was never seen in Hengnl, and I don't party. lie, «» usual, commanded the band of the 
 
 choose to give the real number,) was quartered in European regiment in the I'oit (the 117th) to be in 
 
 Fort William. attendance ; it being the custom, in tho.se days, al- 
 
 Lord was a very good mpn, probably a very ways to strike up • God save the King,' the instant 
 
 great man, but he was a sod tyrant, and sometimes tli« great man emerged from the drawing-room ; oe- 
 
 wns apt to fancy that, instead of the representative 
 of royalty, he was royalty itself. This was a mis- 
 take, which occa.sionally led him into errors. 
 
 Now, Colonel S , who commanded the 117th, 
 
 casionally, ' See the Conquering Hero comes,' was 
 thrown in as a delicate compliment, while a flourish 
 of trumpets announced each course in succession, 
 and the military musicians delighted the ladies dur- 
 
 ,..,,. • f iug the meal with several pretty airs. 
 
 was about as good an otKcer as ever wore a pair of °^ !'•■}'■ 
 
 1 .. .1 . 11- _ .„ 1 „„„ ' On the evening in question. Captain C (the 
 
 epaulettes ; the regiment under his command, one d i • i i 
 
 ... . I- .■ Ill- •„ .,.•„ „„.,.;„„ , aide-de-camp) stepped out of the room and audibly 
 
 of the most distuiguished m his majesty s service, , ,, , 
 
 , ,, , . J , , , . , 1 " V ' pronounced, ' IIis Lxccllency.' This was a signal 
 
 were proud ot him, and loved him dearlv; because, •■ ■' = 
 
 ... Ill 1, 1.1 11 .11.1 "i . f ■ . I tliat Lord was handing down the first lady in 
 
 although he drilled them daily till they almost faint- I " ' 
 
 , , .r 1 . V 1 . 1 company, and should have been followed by the 
 
 cd, he never sullercd any one to pass a slight, or do .... . . . _ ' . 
 
 anylliing against the corps that lie cummniided. 11 
 
 is now a K. C. U. or G. C. U. Few olHccrs have 
 
 better deserved this often ill-bestowed honor. Col. 
 
 S is a soldier, as the the world expresses it, ' a 
 
 soldier every inch of him.' 
 
 My Lord , who, by the woy, was a civilian, 
 
 ordered a grand review. The troops woe drawn 
 
 out on the Ksplanade. The day was burning hot. ,, , ... ,i 
 
 ,,,, , , , . 1 • • 1 celleney to the pretty Jlrs. 1- 
 
 1 he governor-general could see from his vice-regal „„ ' , , 
 
 opening' crash of the national anthem. But, alas ! 
 not a sound responded to the appeuranee of his lord- 
 ship. 
 
 ' 'NNTiat's this, what's this, eh ? Is there no band ?' 
 
 ' Yes, my lord,' tremblingly replied C , ' the 
 
 band of the 117th regiment.' 
 
 ' Why don't they play ? Go and see. These men 
 are sadly drilled, I fear,' blandly remarked his e.\- 
 
 llc actually looked 
 
 mansion that they were awaiting him. His e.vcel- 
 Icncy chose to remain longer than usual at tillin ; 
 the troops, haWng drooped for nearly two hours be- 
 neath the lingering rays of a tropical sun, were near- 
 ly worn out, when Lord came prancing out to 
 
 look at them. It is a great honor to be looked at 
 by a great man ; so the troops presented arms, and 
 the olfieers dropped their swords. In a moment, 
 
 however, the eagle eye of Lord beheld a flag, 
 
 stiff, bolt upright. He instantly despatched an aide- 
 de-camp to command that it should be lowered. 
 
 Colonel S respectfully declined, on the score 
 
 that it was the king's color of the 117th regiment, 
 and could only do homage to a member of the royal 
 family. 
 
 ' Am I not the representative of majesty .-' 
 
 ' You are, my lord." 
 
 ' Then I desire that the flag may be lowered." 
 
 ' I extremely regret, your excellency, that I am 
 compelled to decline complying with your order. 
 The king's ensign can only be lowered to royalty it- 
 self.' 
 
 ' Sir, I insist ' — 
 
 ' My lord, I will not give an order contrary to the 
 rules of the ser^-icc, and the directions given me 
 when I had the honor of being placed at the head of 
 this gallant corps.' 
 
 ' You shall repent this disobedience. I shall in- 
 stantly refer the question home, and if you are 
 wrong, I'll have you dismissed the service.' 
 
 The enraged governor-general, thwarted for the 
 first time in his life, galloped back to his palace, 
 where his anger considerably impeded his digestion. A Max Stro.nuer th.vn a Duay Horse.— At 
 TheU7th regiment march'ed into Fort William, the close of a police casein Galway, on Monday, 
 well knowing they had made a dire and powerful t^"^ defendant, lledmond Jennings, was mentioned 
 enemy. i ^^ " brewer's drayman, of whom a solicitor in court 
 
 During the twelve months which elapsed for an stated a curious fact— which he said many re.spect- 
 answcr from Europe, no oiKccrs of the marked corps a'^''-' persons were personally coiirni/ant of. He said 
 were invited to his excellency's banquets. Many tl"" Jennings was the strongest man in the province 
 petty slights were shown tliem ; in a word, they of Connaught, or, probably, in all Ireland ; that on 
 suffered all the little grievances which superior au- ! one occasion, when his horse failed to draw a heavi- 
 
 The aide-de-camp returned 
 pale with horror. 
 
 ' Well, well, — why don't they play r' 
 
 ' They have not brought their instruments.' 
 
 ' N'ot brought their instruments ! Stupid fools ! 
 Tell them to go instantly and fetch them ; and if 
 they are not back in half an hour, I'll have them all 
 punished. Here, you sir, you band-master, do you 
 hear what I am saying ? Quick !' 
 
 ' Please your excellency, I can't.' 
 
 ' And why ? Do you presume to bandy words 
 with me ?' 
 
 ' No, my lord ; but ' 
 
 ' I'll have no buts. Be off, sir, directly, and 
 
 fetch your instruments. A\'hat could Colonel S 
 
 mean by sending the band here like a parcel of 
 sticks? I don't want the men — I want the music' 
 
 ' Please you, my lord, I was ordered to say, the 
 men of the band are under your lordship's command, 
 and attend aecordinc to orders. But the instru- 
 ments belong to the oflicers, who purchase them fly 
 subscription out of their pockets, and they refuse to 
 lend them to you.' 
 
 ' What,' roared the irritated governor-general. 
 
 ' It's not my fault, sir,' ejaculated the poor band- 
 master. 
 
 We shall not paint the anger of the great man, or 
 the joy of the otlicers at finding they had fully suc- 
 ceeded in conferring the 'retort courteous' on the 
 proudest, the haughtiest man that ever landed in 
 Bengal. 
 
 000 inhabitants, there is one to every 6a0. In Ber- 
 lin, with 1.50,000 iiiliabitant.s, there is one to every 
 340. In London, the expense per head of the police 
 force is £78, in Paris it is £'200, in Berlin, it is £60. 
 Thus the French police is comparatively the small- 
 est, but best paid, while the Knglish and the German 
 police are nearly on a level in numbers, as well as 
 in pay — the difference in the latter, when prices are 
 considered, being rather in favor of Germany. The 
 secret service costs in France about £50,000 ; in 
 England, £30,000 ; in Prussia, £1'2,000. Each in- 
 habitant of London has to pay 4s for the police ; 
 each Parisian, (is; and each Berliner, 3s 7d. a year. 
 In the Austrian Empire there are twenty-nine 
 millions of Catholics, three millions of Protestants, 
 and 2,700,000 Schismatic Greeks. 
 
 MISCELLANEA. 
 
 Quills are things that arc sometimes taken from 
 the pinions of one goose to spread the opinions of 
 another. 
 
 ' Is that clock right over there :' asked a visitor, 
 the other day. ' Right over there ■' said the boy, 
 ' 'taint nowhere else-' 
 
 An infamous old bachelor being asked if he had 
 ever witnessed a public execution, replied : — ' No, 
 but I once saw a marriage.' 
 
 The hoop question, like most others, has two 
 sides to it. The ladies take the inside, and of course 
 we must take the other. 
 
 A parishioner inquired of his pastor the meaning 
 of this line in Scripture : 'He was clothed with 
 curses as with a garment.' ' It signifies,' replied 
 the divine, ' that the individual had got a bad habit 
 of swearing.' 
 
 It often happens that those are the best people 
 whose characters have been injured most by slan- 
 derers — as we usually find that to be the sweetest 
 fruit, which the birds have been picking at. 
 
 ' I say, mister,' said one Y'ankee to another, ' how 
 come your eyes so crooked :' ' My eyes ? ^^^^y, 
 by setting between two girls, and trying to make 
 love to both at the same time.' 
 
 We arc curious to know how many feet in female 
 arithmetic go to a mile, because we never met with 
 a lady yet whose s'hoes were not, to say the very 
 least, a mile too big for her. 
 
 Impudent little boy (to fat old gentleman, who is 
 trying to get along as fast as he can, but with very 
 indifferent success,) 'I say, old fellow, you would 
 get on a jolly sight quicker, if you would lie down 
 on the pavement, and let me roll you along.' 
 
 A beggar posted himself at the door of the Chan- 
 cery Court, and kept saying : ' A penny, please, sir ! 
 Only one penny, sir, before you go in !' 'And why, 
 my man r' inquired an old country gentleman. ' Be- 
 cause, sir, the chances are that you will not have any 
 when you come out,' was the beggar's reply. 
 
 ADVERTISEMENTS. 
 
 MORRIS 
 
 thority can, when it chooses, inflict. 
 
 At length the answer came. Colonel .S was 
 
 right. He had acted stritly according to regulations; 
 but a request was conveyed to him, that in futui 
 
 as his exeeUency seemed to irakc a point of it, he to be a positive fact, and several added, that they 
 would lower the king's color to the governor-gen- knew also that he could load a dray .vith heavy bar- 
 pj.^l_ rels of porter in less time than it would take three 
 
 Each considered he had gained a triumph ; and ordinary men to do it. 
 the 117th were marched down to Calcutta again, to ' - ' -»••—-• 
 
 prove before the world at large that Lord was Eikoteax Police Statistics. — In London, with 
 
 to receive a bow from a red and blue flag, ycltped 2,200,000 inhabitants, there is one policeman to 
 the king's color. I every 302 of the population. In Paris, with 1,300- 
 
 ylPOTHECARY, 
 ly-ladcn dray with barrels of porter up a hill, he 1 ^^^^^^ ^^ j,.^.j„„, „„j rurclmsc atreetf, foot of Summer 
 untaekled the horse, fixed himself between the ^j^.^^.,^ Boston. 
 
 shafts, and drew up the load to the top of the hill. | qthICT personul atlenlion paid to compounding Phvei 
 Many persons in court stated that they knew this ^dicr;^ ^^^1!^^ h,^d''T«^^^e™,^s/2ik"'^ 
 
 genuine iinporled rcrftimcry and Fancy (.ioods. Soda 
 Walerwilli ctioicu Syrups. ■ A larec assorliiieut of genuine 
 Uarann Segara constantly on liand. ap& 
 
 WHY BURN GAS BY DAYLIGHT? 
 
 STEP HEX HOE ^ CO., 
 
 IXVEXTOIt.S »nd Mauufactureis of tlie Improved Day- 
 liL'lit Kelieclor, for dillusing tlie heallliy liglit of day 
 into all dark places. N'o. 23 State street, liostou, and No. 
 34 I'ark tlrect, Haltiniorc. 
 A. It. Call and fiee it in operation. GmHS 
 
IRISH MISCELLAI^Y. 
 
 271 
 
 ADVEBTISEMEWTS. 
 
 FINE KEADY MADE CLOTHING 
 
 CUSTOM TA 1 L O Riy Cr. 
 
 SPUING OVEKCOATS, 
 
 BLSIXESS COATS, 
 
 FKOK AKD DltESS COATS, 
 
 I'ANTS AND VESTS, 
 
 Goop, Stylish, Well Madk Garments, 
 
 Siicli as meu of tnstc nntl good judgment will wear, can at 
 
 all times be I'ounit at our store. 
 
 Our aim is to proiluco lor our customers the best Ready 
 
 Slade Garments at tbe lowest i'ossible prices for 
 
 CASH. 
 
 Keaders of this Journal are earnestly solicited to ej^am- 
 ine our goods before purchasing. 
 
 J A. Sill Til & CO., 
 
 Dock Square, corner Elji Street. 
 my 11 tf 
 
 ■\V I L L I A M P E A K C E , 
 
 PL UMBER, 
 
 12 ASD 28 city exchahqb, 
 
 DEVONSHIEE STREET, 
 
 BOSTON. 
 
 SAMUEL MASUKY. 
 
 PHOTOGRAPH AND DAGUERREOTYPE 
 
 ARTIST. 
 
 289 Washington Street, 
 
 (Up one flight of stairs) 
 
 Boston. 
 rhotographs taken of every size and finished in Oil, Wa- 
 ter, India Ink and Pastel Colors. Daguerreotypes taken in 
 the most superior manner. myl 
 
 LliUKNHAM, (formerly junior partner in the firm of 
 . BURXHAM liKuTHERS,) has taken the Old Stand, 58 
 & 00 Cornhill, occupied bv the late linn, and holds himself 
 in readiness to supply all orders with which he may be fa- 
 vored. 
 
 Te Antique Booke Store still flourisheth, 
 
 Asytte dide in days of yore; 
 
 And ye Bursham still catereth 
 
 For ye lovers of ancient lore. 
 
 al7 
 
 3t 
 
 SOUTH EXD CATHOLIC BOOK STORE, 
 
 And Depot for the Sale of the 
 
 METROPOLITAN AND YOUTHS' mi GAZINES. 
 
 WILLIAM KEATING, Agent, 
 
 8 1-2 Harrison Avenue, or at his New Periodical Store, 176 
 
 Harrison Avenue, Boston, Mass., 
 
 Where a great variety of the most popular Books and 
 
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 WILL supply Clubs, Agents, Canvassers, &c.. on the 
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 the terms— 3 copies will be sent bv mail, to one address, lor 
 one year So ; 6 copies for SlU ; 13 copies for S20 ; 20 copies 
 ror.S30. 
 
 By On the receipt of S3, three copies of the Catholic 
 Youth's Magazine and one copy of the Jletropolitan will 
 be mailed regularly tor one year. 
 
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 be had of the Agent. Also, all new books furnished as 
 soon as published. ap24 3mos 
 
 AMUSEMENTS. 
 
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 TuoMAS BARitv, Ix.'esce and JIanagcr. 
 
 Doors open at 7; Performance commences at 7 1-2 o'clock 
 Pi'ices of admission — I'rivate 15o.\esS?li; I'artjuette, Bal- 
 
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 BOSTON MUSEUM. 
 
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 Open for the production of Tragidies, Comedies, Spec- 
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 Kxliibition Hall opens at 6 1-2; commences at 7 1-2. 
 Admission 25 cents; Reserved Seats 50 cents. 
 
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 The Grand Combination every night 
 Doors open at 7; I'erformance commences at 7 1-2. 
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 o 
 
 JOHN MITCIIEI/S LETTERS 
 N the attempted Itcvolution in Ireland in 18-18. and the 
 causes which led thereto, are republished exclusively 
 
 IRISH AMERICAN. 
 
 Publication OHice, No, 32 Beckman street, New York. For 
 sale bv all news dealers. Price three cents per copy. Sub- 
 ecription Sl,50 per annum. 4wmv22 
 
 willi.\.m d. park, 
 
 SHADES HO T-E L , 
 
 NO. 2 MORTON PLACE, 
 
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 THE SOUTHERN CITIZEN, 
 
 IS published weekly at Knoxville, Tennessee, by JOHN 
 MITCHELL & WM. G. SWAN, at $2 per annum, or 
 #1 for si.K months, jiavable invariably in advance. 
 
 .Ml-, .■\liicln-ll having commeneed in the 28th number of 
 till- p.ipi-i-, a ,<i-iies of Letters addressed to the Hon. Alex- 
 aiidi-r- II, .SI, ]j|ii-iis uf Georgia, which when completed will 
 fui-iii^liunenlire history ot*^ 
 
 THE IRISH TROUBLES OF 1848, 
 With their Causes and Consequences, 
 The Southern Citizen will be the more interesting to both 
 American and hi.-h readers. Be.-ides these conlrihulions 
 from Mr. Jlilchel, llie Southern Citizen will conlinue to 
 have its u.-ual (ruanlily of original matter upon political 
 and literary .-.-ubjects prepared by him. I'lie cii-culation, 
 ttjou;:h hu'L-e and constantly increasing, the proprietors 
 have ijiniight u ill be muchmore extended by an aunounce- 
 
 Comnmnicaiions with remittances may be addresedto 
 Mitchel & Swan, Knoxville, Tennessee, or to any of the 
 following Agents: 
 
 SCCourteuav & Co, Cliark-slon, SC; Thomas B O'Con- 
 
 nnr, -■-,-;„„,;, I,, ,:;, : ,1 (• 1Io,,:in. New ( )rlea]is. I,a ; Jas A 
 '■' ' '■■ '; ■ i ■ - - '- \'- :.i .l.r Adams, ni, Waslihigton 
 
 I" ' '■' - I '■'■ nali.d; f ,M Ihnerlv. IIH 
 
 J Dau]ihiii street. Mobile 
 liiiiliiing, Montgomery, Ala; 
 
 upiuiroiiioi 11 al. ivilleiuiiiioiia, anae],eu Williani's 
 troops, deleated them and compelled them to retreat before 
 the Irish horse, leaving their artillery in the hands of Sars- 
 field. 
 
 Having to rejoin the garrison at Limerick, Sarsfleld knew 
 it would be impossible to carry with him the heavy Ene- 
 lish guns through the mountain passes, and deteimincd 10 
 destroy them. He ordered them to be charged to their ut- 
 most capacity, and imbedded deeply in the earth with the 
 whole of the baggage train, wliieli also tell into liis hands 
 A train being laid, tin- ^]ia^k «as aj^plied and in a lew sec- 
 onds the seige arlilleiy ol William was shattered into innu- 
 merable fragments This gallant ieat astonished the Eng- 
 lish troops, gave new courage to the Irish, and added to 
 the great popularity of the gallant Sarslield. The explo- 
 sion shook the earth for miles around, and was heard at an 
 immense distance. 
 
 It is at the moment of the explosion of the English ar- 
 tillery which our artist has siezed upon for the subject of 
 his pencil. 
 
 This memorable event will be faithfully and accurately 
 portrayed. It has not hitherto, given inspiration, as far as 
 we can learn to any of ourlrisli artists, and shall now have 
 amble justice done it. It wiil make a beautiful picture 
 We shall present it to our readers on a sheet of line di aw- 
 ing paper, separate from the Miscellany, suitable for 
 framing. 
 
 It win at once be seen that we cannot do this without a 
 great outlay of capital. We expect to be reimbursed by a 
 very large addition to our subscription list, as no person 
 will be entitled to it who has not paid on or before the 3d 
 of July next one years' subscription in advance, datinff 
 from our first number. ° 
 
 Non subscribers will be supplied at $1,50 for each plate 
 
 We are resolved that our subscribers shall possets a 'pic- 
 ture gallery' worthy of the events we propose to commem- 
 orate. This will be the first of a series of national pic- 
 tures we propose presenting gratis to our regular subscrib- 
 ers the second picture of the series will be ready early iu 
 October, the subject of which is not yet decided on. Wo 
 should feel obliged to any of our friends who possess old 
 pictures of remarkable events in Irish history, or portraits 
 of distinguished Irishmen, to forward them to us. Thev 
 shall be taken good care of. and returned. 
 
 Let our friends see to their subscriptions in season Our 
 Picture Gallery will be fit to adorn the walls of any gentle- 
 man's house in the country, and will, we hope, eventuallv 
 supersede the wretched daubs which are often met with 
 
 Our arrangements for the fiist picture are almost com- 
 pleted. It will be absolutely necessary that we should 
 know immediately the number of plates we shall want 
 i.et our subscribers therefore, send in their subscriptions 
 without delay, and be careful to give us their correct ad 
 dress. We shall not strike ofl' any more copies than are 
 ordered before the above date. 
 
 Will our friends of the press please notice this new fea 
 ture in our publication, and we will take care that their 
 sanctums are adorned with choice copies of this national 
 picture. 
 
 Ala, l;.-i-.i I. 11;,,, ^. ,M,i 
 
 Ross & Toucey, 121 Nas,-au street, N Y, supply dealers oiil 
 upon reasonable terms; James McGinn, 121 Kearney strecl 
 San Erancisco. 
 ',• Clubs of ten will be supplied with the paper for 8:15. 
 
 DO'KOUKKE, respectfully informs his friends and the 
 . public, that he keeps constantly on hand COFMNS 
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 PASSENGER CERTIFICATES. 
 
 TO OLD rdlNTIIV.MKN. Owfx Mp v,,,,„, ^„ 
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 Summer St., Lowell, Mass. ai2tf 
 
f HH f ©Um LEJlITEB SMJLMm!!)!!E/ 
 
 Sticctcir crprcssb fcr % |rislj ||lis(cllaun, 
 
 AT^T-piITTEISr .A-KTID O O 3^ P' O S E 3D B "^ S.A.l!vd[XJEL X^ CD ^sT" :E1 :R . 
 
 sionunATo. 
 
 ~r ^T — n — j ' — n — • a a-T 
 
 1. I'll seek a four leav'd Shamrock, In 
 
 ee|^p?r^^^ 
 
 
 
 >__!• J_. ^ 
 
 all the fairy dells, Ami if I find the charmed leaves.Oh how I'll weave my spells.I would not waste my magic might On diaraond,pearl,or gold,ror 
 
 E-sprc sa. ^ ^ 
 
 HZ) ^ — r^. •*---#! j-»- i,j — # 1 1-« a — s J- « « •-- ■-- — — 0-0 0-i — -^ 
 
 '^^ ^" 5[ ^ *^ • /•, __^^ -*- " -^- -0~ -f/- -g- -0--0-0 0. 
 
 ^:^ziz:__z^fz -^^^^_j^#_g_g a"— — ^--.-^ — j- , rf— 
 
 ^:z!2ZZ-pJa^E^:^|=^^g::^-H=?=^=F||==^?^ 
 
 ^^^33 
 
 nitnrd. Ad lib. ,. . . * tempo. ^ .. ^ 1! 
 
 trea.surcs tire the wca-ry sense,Such triumph is but cold ; But I would play th' enchanter's part In casting bliss a -round, 
 
 
 Oh! 
 
 ±z?z!zz*zzzzl«^=?=«=t*: 
 
 ^i=iE^?=!=^=^=9:?- 
 
 i?£ISi 
 
 not a tear nor aching heart Should in the world be found, Should in the world bo found. 
 
 ^z=>J=:lr.tt' 
 
 t-P 
 
 
 •-^- t-;/ZE=z;^:|rztztzt:z,e.*.lr 
 EzEEz=zz=i»'*-*-?±^- 
 
 Should meet again like parted streams, The heart that had been mourning And Alis'ry's children have an Ark, 
 
 And mingle as of old ; O'er vanish'd dreams of love, And sav'd from sinking be ; 
 
 Oh thus ra'play th' enchanter's part, Sliould see them all returning, Oh thus I'd play th' cnolianter's part. 
 
 Thus scatter bliss around, Like Xoali's faithful dove. Thus scatter bliss around, 
 
 Andhe-irts that had been long cstrang'd, And not a tear nor aching heart, And Hope should launch her blessed And not a tear nor aching heart, 
 And friends that had grown cold, Should in the world be found. On Sorrow's darkening sea, [bark Should in the world be found. 
 
 ^ A four Icavol SUamrock U supposiil to cnJue tUo fludcr wilh niusii; ponor. 
 
 To worth I would give honour, 
 I'll dry the mourner's tears, 
 
 And to the pallid lip recall 
 The smile of happier years, 
 
VOLUME I— NUMBER 18. ] 
 
 BOSTON, SATURDAY, JUNE 12, 1858. 
 
 [PRICE FOUR CENTS. 
 
 THE RUINS OF CLONMACNOISE. 
 
 THE SEVEN' ClirilCHES. 
 
 There is nothing strikes the lover of Irish antiqui- 
 ties with more force, or gives greater fervor to his 
 researches, than the ancient ruins of ecclesiastical 
 architecture which are so frequently met with in our 
 island of sorrows. Their splendor, even in decay, 
 attests the love of the beautiful, which so largely 
 characterized the minds of our forefathers ; the pious 
 ardor with which they sought to adorn the temples 
 dedicated to the worsliip of God, attests their pure 
 devotion to His faith. At the commencement of the 
 eighteenth century, we are informed, that the popu- 
 lation of Ireland was about three millions ;— this is 
 the period at which commences our only correct 
 data. We are left by our statisticians to infer that 
 a couple of centuries previously the population must 
 have been small indeed. 
 
 In contemplating the ruins of our ancient convents, 
 
 abbeys, monasteries, hospitals, schools, colleges and 
 churches, the mind inadvertantly wanders back to 
 the period when those ruins were the abodes of 
 scholars and of saints innumerable — when they 
 teemed with living souls, and were made vocal with 
 the praises of the Great Architect of the Universe. 
 From this we wander to the world without, and 
 dwell upon the numbers of the population which 
 could erect edifices, the ruins of which attest their 
 great extent. Thus, even amid the ruins of our old 
 abbeys, convents and churches, we find the strong- 
 est testimony of the groat population Ireland for- 
 merly contained, and of the wealth, power and 
 piety, she then enjoyed. 
 
 In perusing the annals of the Diocese of Clonmac- 
 noise, and looking with loving fondness upon the' 
 accompanying representation of some of the magnifi- 
 cent ruins of that ancient abode of wisdom and re- 
 ligion, we have been led into the above brief reflec- 
 
 tions upon Irish ecclesiastic ruins in general. It is 
 impossible to dwell upon any of them without feel- 
 ings of sadness ; how, then, can we gaze upon that 
 ancient cross, so artistically sculptured, around 
 which a number of pious souls are pouring out their 
 prayers to Him, whose sufferings and death it for- 
 cibly calls to mind, without feelings of pious emo- 
 tion ? It is with these feelings, then, we set down 
 to give a slight sketch of the annals of the Diocese 
 of Clonmacnoise. 
 
 The founder of this Diocese was St. Kieran, who, 
 in o48 became the spiritual pupil of St. Senanus of 
 Inniscathy, an island of the Shannon, into which no 
 female was permitted. Kieran was a native of 
 Meath, but his parents came from Ulster,where 
 his father was a carpenter, hence he was usu- 
 ally styled the ' son of the carpenter.' Like many 
 of our early saints, it is difficult to trace the axact 
 yi ar of his birth, but the most probable account is, 
 
 
 CLONMACNOISE— THE SEVEN CHUHCIIES. 
 
274 
 
 UlSll MISCKIXANY. 
 
 that he wns bom in fi07. He was baptised by St. 
 JuBtufi, null recoivoil from him his eiivly cduontion. 
 Having been for some time « disciple at Clonard, 
 of St. Fiuiniim. and received his parting benediction, 
 he retired to the monastery of St. Nennidius, wliich 
 was situated in an island of Lough Erne Kieran 
 was recievcd with joy, and afterward, that he might j 
 become more perfect in monastic discipline, he went 
 to the great monastery of Arran. 
 
 St. Enda then presided over it, and receiving him 
 very kindly, employed him seven years in threshing 
 com, during which time he was considered a model 
 of sanctitj-, piety and humility. Having incurred 
 the displeasure of some monks for his liberality to 
 the poor, ho went to an island of the Shannon, In- 
 isaingani. Lough Kce, where he founded a monas- 
 tery. Haring left tlie care of this place to one Ad- 
 amnnn, a native of Xlunster, he rcraovsd to the west- 
 ern bank of the Shannon, and on a piece of land 
 given by King McDermot, founded the celebrated 
 Abbey of Clonmacnoise. The works he undertook, 
 his constant lasts and vigils, at length proved too 
 much forhis constitution, and a plague setting in he 
 became one of its earliest victims. He died iu o-lS. 
 In Clonmacnoise were nine churches, sometimes 
 called 'the seven churches," built by the kings and 
 princes, as burying places. 
 
 The immediate successor of Kieran, was doubt- 
 less, Oena, although AVare mentions St. Tigcmach, 
 as bishop of Clonmacnoise. The Four JIasters say 
 that Oena died in .570 ; he is called Angus or Ancas, 
 The following is the chronological order of the bish- 
 ops of this Diocese, liaitanus Mac Cuanach. the 
 Bon of Cuanach, who declared in favor of the Roman 
 computation of Easter. Ware says, he was born in 
 Ballanaliinch, county of Galway. He was eminent 
 in piety and virtue ; was a monk, abbot, and finally, 
 bishop. He died in oG2. 
 
 Maeldarius, bishop, died in 886. Coprey Crom, 
 or the crooked, succeeded. He obtained the char- 
 acter of being ' the head of religion in Ireland, and 
 the principal ornament of his age and conn try.' He 
 died in March 899. 
 
 Colman JIac Ailild was abbot and bishop of Clon- 
 ard and Clonmacnoise. It is said that he was the 
 founder of the Cathedral of Clonmacnoise, and the 
 ' wisest of the doctors ' of Ireland. He died Feb- 
 ruary 7th 925. 
 
 Cormac O'Killeen who was abbot of Roscommon, 
 and bishop of Clonmacnoise, and died in 961, was 
 esteemed as a man of learning. 
 
 Tuathall, abbot and bishop, died in 969. 
 Dunchad, or Donatus O'Braoin was elected suc- 
 cessor, but it is not clear from the annals, whether 
 he was merely abbot or bishop. It is most proba- 
 ble that he was consecrated, as without his conse- 
 cration we have a void of ninety-elght years be- 
 tween the dcathofTuathalin 969, and that of Calo- 
 cair, in 1067. His office he worthily fiUed for some 
 years, but prefering a solitary life he abdicated and 
 repaired to Amiagh in 974, where he died with a 
 high reputation for sanctity, in January 986. Dun- 
 chad is said to have performed many miracles, and 
 to have restored a widow's infant child to life. 
 
 Ectigem O'Ergain, successor of Kiaran of Clon- 
 macnoise died at Olonard, while thereon a pilgrim- 
 age in 1052. Christian O'Hectigern died in 110. 
 
 A. D. 1088, the abbot and annalist, Tigernach 
 O'Braoin, who by his talents and industry, cast new 
 light on tho ancient records of liis connirr, died at 
 Clonmacnoise. He belonged to an ancient sept that 
 inhabited an eastern part of Connauglit, and was ab- 
 bot of Roscommon before his election to that of Clon. 
 macnoise. It was here he compiled his celebrated 
 annals of Ireland, which he brought down to the year 
 of his death. This work has proved of much value to 
 modern historians and much facilitated their enquiries. 
 It is somewhat noticeable that it contains frequent quo_ 
 tations from Latin and Greek authors, such as Horace 
 Virgil, Fliny, Eascbius, Origcn, Saint Jerome, Jolius, 
 
 Afric«nu9,Anatolin8, Bcdo, &c., given with groat acm-right, and from tho massive walls and great extent 
 
 racy, aud displaying much critical acumen. 
 
 In 11.10 the jewels which were stolen from this ab- 
 bey twenty-two years previously, were found in the 
 possession of one CiU c Comdlian, a Dane of Limer- 
 ick, who was taken by Conor O'Brien, King of Lim- 
 erick and delivered to the authorities of Clonmacnoise. 
 He was afterwards executed, and in his dying confes- 
 sion, stated that he had made innumerable efforts to quit 
 
 visible in tho distance, our rcHileni may form some idea 
 of tho splendor and mngniliccncc of this holy temple, 
 before ii was despoiled by the stranger. The doors of 
 the abbey are richly carved. There are, wc recollect, 
 other extensive rnins of ancient buildings, standing 
 considerably to the left of llie larger round tower, 
 whoso pointed arches, and mastive walls still towering 
 high above earth, show that they too must have been 
 
 the country by sea, but was always ],reventcd by con | the abode of one of lliosc holy communities which 
 
 trary winds, while it the same time other vessels could 
 leave their harbors widi fair winds. 
 
 Donald O'Duhhai died in 1130. Morierlach O'Mc- 
 lidcr. Bishop of Clonmacnoise, assisted at the council 
 of Kells, in 1152. Ho died at a very advanced age, in 
 1188. 
 
 Tigcniach O'Maclcoin died in 1172. In this year 
 money was coined at Clonmacnoise. 
 
 JIuireach O'Muircachan succeeded. He was a man 
 of learning and died in 121.3. 
 
 From this period down to 1729 when Stephen Mac 
 Eiigan was bishop, we lind tho names of twenty-nine 
 bishops, who tilled the see of Clonmacnoise; the peri- 
 ods of their births aud deaths not being of interest to 
 iho reader, wc sli:dl proceed to matters of more gen- 
 eral interest. In 1201, during the reign of Henry II., 
 when England, bear it in mind, was Catholic, that 
 monarch undertook to reform tho 'rude and barbarous 
 church of Ireland.' His vassals, accordingly, sallied 
 out^from Melick, on the Shannon, and plundered the 
 church of Clonmacnoise on the feast of St. Gregory, 
 and on the following daJ',, after plundering the abbey 
 of Melick, returned to Clonmacnoise. Not content 
 with their previous rich booty, they forcibly carried off 
 every article which remained, plundering the church of 
 its holy vestments, sacred utensils, books, &c., and 
 robbed the abbot and monks of all the provisions, 
 flesh, corn, &c , belonging to the community. Not 
 content, even with this, thcj' laid waste the whole of 
 the growing crops, gardens and houses in town. This 
 is a fair specimen of the treatment which Catholic 
 Ireland received at the bands of Catholic England and 
 its 'reforming kings.' 
 
 In 1204, William Burke, tho Conqueror of Con- 
 naught, ravaged this monastery. 
 
 In 1205, Melaghlin O'Melaghlin erected an altar of 
 stone in tho great church of Clonmacnoise. 
 
 In 1230, the abbot of Moylemoory O'MocIin died. 
 He was a good man and remarkable for his great hos- 
 pitality. 
 
 In 1552, the English garrison of Athlone plundered 
 and devastated the abbey of Clonmacnoise. Tlic act 
 is thus described by the four masters: 'They took the 
 large bells out of the cloictcach, (tho steeple or bel- 
 fry) and left neither large nor small bell, image, altar, 
 book, gem, nor even glass in a window in the church, 
 that they did not carry away with them, and that truly 
 was a lamentable deed to plunder tho church of Cia- 
 ran, the patron saint.' 
 
 Tho situation of this monastery is on the right bank 
 of the Shannon, and within ten miles of Athlone; it is, 
 perhaps, the most delightful and picturesciuo which 
 could have been selected, commanding a fine view of 
 the Shannon and the broad Atlantic beyond. There 
 are two round towers, as shown in our engraving, 
 elegantly built of hewn stone. The larger one t:) the 
 loft has lost the conical roof with which it was former- 
 ly covered in. It is called O'Rourke's, is sixty-two 
 feet in height and fifty-six in circumference. It is 
 said this tower was erected by Fergal O'Uourke, who 
 was king of Connaught about the 10th century. But 
 there can be little doubt that it existed centuries be- 
 fore this period. The family of O'Rourke had their 
 cemetery near it, and as the annals of the four masters 
 state that this tower was injured by lightning, in the 
 year 1135, it doulidcss received the name of that mon- 
 arch from his having repaired it. 
 
 The other tower, to the right of our engraving, is 
 seven feet in diameter, the walls three feet in thick- 
 ness, and fifiy-six feet in height, including the conical 
 
 flourished throughout Ireland previous to the English 
 inv.ision, shedding the blessings of religion upon soci- 
 ety and dispensing with prodigal hands, the products 
 of their own industry upon the widow and the orphan. 
 Verily, there Wiis no need of English poor laws in Ire- 
 land iu those days. 
 
 This moiiaAtery belonged to the canons regular of 
 St. Augustine. It was uncommonly extensive and 
 greatly enriched by kings and ])rinccs. Thus, tho 
 kindness of its benefactors became tho cause of its 
 overthrow; its great wealth attracted tho attention of 
 English and Danish freebooters, and it alternately suf- 
 fered at the hands of both. Its landed property was 
 so great and the number of cells and monasteries sub- 
 ject to it so numerous, that its possessions would al- 
 most seem fabulous. 
 
 The cemetery of Clonmacnoifio contained about two 
 Irish acres, on which ten churches were erected by 
 kings and princes. Temple High, built by O'Me- 
 laghlin, King of Meath; Temple O'Connor, built by 
 O'Connor Don; Temple Kelly; Temple Finghan, 
 supposed, though erroneously, to have been built by 
 M'Carthy of Munster. Tigernach, the annalist, says 
 this church was dedicated to St. Finnian, one of the 
 first Irish saints, whose grave is beside the church and 
 is still resorted to by the pious, as one of tho ]>rinciplo 
 penitential stations of this famed sanctuary. His well 
 is still held in great veneration and bears the name 
 which Tigernach O'Braoin gave it, 'Tiproid Fingen.' 
 Hero repose the ashes of Malichi the Frist. 
 
 We feel that in tracing the interesting annals of this 
 holy place we have already exceeded the space to 
 which we are, in justice to the other contributors of 
 to the Miscellany entitled, and must hasten to bring 
 them to a close. The round tower which is attached 
 to the church, and which forms an integral part of the 
 building, has its entrance doorway within the chancel, 
 and on a level with tho floor, a circumstance which 
 some think throws much light upon the use of round 
 towers. The chancel of St. Fingen's church was 
 lighted by a single round headed window in tho eastern 
 wall; in the south wall there is in perfect preservation a I 
 curiously ornamented pisccna. Temple Kieran, the ' 
 church of the holy founder; Temple Gauny; Temple 
 Donlin, and lastly, Temple MacDermot, before the 
 doors of whose church stands tho large cross repro- ■ 
 sented in our engraving. It is cut from one entire 
 stone, and has an inscripjion in antique and unknown 
 characters. The north doors are very low, but guard- 
 ed with small pillars of fine marble, curiously wrought. 
 Another of these churches lias within it an aroh of 
 greenish marble, fl.it wrought and beuutifully executed, 
 the joints of which are so close that the whole appears 
 to bo of one entire stone. In the cemetery liCHde tho 
 cross of Temple MacDcrmott, there are three oilier 
 crosses. 
 
 We mast f )r the profcnt bring our labors lo a close, 
 yet hope on some future occasion, to have the reader 
 accompany us still further in our researches among 
 these ancient and holy monuments of the dead. 
 
 Clonmacnoi-e, that is the parish of the present day, 
 coniains an area of 22,417 acres, and in 1841 had a 
 population of 2,349. Clon, from Irish Cluan or 
 Clain, signifies a lawn, or piece of pa.^turc land, or 
 more speciidly, a fertile piece of land surrounded by 
 bog or moor, or on one side by a bog, and on the other 
 by water. Clon-mac-noise, or Cluain-mac-nois is said 
 to signify the retreat of the sons of the nobles from 
 the number of the princes of Ireland who were edu- 
 
 roofontop, it is called M'Carthy's tower. The ca- cated at its schools. There are eighty-four places in 
 thedral of the ancient abbey is the building on the Ireland the names of which begin \vith Clon. 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 275 
 
 THE CHARM. 
 
 A TRUE S T U y. 
 
 'He would 
 
 Cure wnrts nnd corns with npplicntiou 
 
 Of medicine to til' imnginntiou; 
 
 KriglU agues into dogs nnd scnre 
 
 ■\Vith rliymcs the toutliache and catarrli.' 
 
 In the vicinity of the chief to-yvn of a north-western 
 county in Ireland, resided a widow, with a large 
 family, two of whom were sons. The father of this 
 family had been a laborer with a gentleman, on 
 whose property he resided. At his death, the widow 
 was not disturbed, though unable to pay the usual 
 rent for her house and garden. 
 
 The landlord's wife who was a benevolent woman, 
 endeavored to benefit the lower orders by every 
 means in her power, and took much interest in the 
 family of the widow Morriss; but they were so 
 ignorant and averse to be instructed in any way that 
 she despaired of being able to do anything for them. 
 She frequently employed the boys about the house 
 and endeavored to impress them with habits of in- 
 dustry ; but her good counsel was undone by the 
 folly of their mother. In her walks the lady of the 
 manor frequently called at the different cottages, 
 and one day entered the cabin of the widow Mor- 
 riss. 
 
 ' Good day, Betty, how are your family ?' was her 
 salutation. 
 
 ' JIusha, then, misthress dear, ye're hundred wel- 
 comes. Nelly, brin a chair ; fwhy but ye rub yer 
 apron to it, ye ignorant ape,' replied Betty, as 
 she dressed up the iire. ' Won't ye cum by, madam, 
 an take an air iv the fire — the day's cowld.' 
 
 'Thank you, Betty, my walk has completely 
 warmed me. What are your boys employed about 
 to-day !' 
 
 'Faix, mysel doesn'tknoiv, ma'am ; its little they 
 can do, and less they're inclined for, barrin runnin 
 to town afther sport. God help them, and all the 
 poor iv the world !' 
 
 ' Don't you know, Betty, it is wrong thus to per- 
 mit your children to roam about in idleness, which 
 will certainly lead them into wickedness ?' 
 ■ ' Acushla machree, how can I help them, an has 
 nothin for them to do tal the prates is diggin..' 
 
 ' During those seasons when work is slack, could 
 you not send them to school? — it would keep them 
 out of mischief, and in the end, be beneficial.' 
 
 ' Send them to school ! Arra, madam, avourneen, 
 fwhat way could I sind them, an' hasn't one penny 
 to pay the masther ? To school, anagh !'* 
 
 ' You cannot be ignorant, Betty, that there are 
 free schools, where the children are provided with 
 every necessary, and attended by good masters. In 
 the town is one of these, where your children may 
 be educated without expense." 
 
 ' Lord reward them that's good to the poor! But, 
 misthress a cushla, fwhat would the leks iv my lit- 
 tle boys want wid larninr' 
 
 ' It is not burdensome, Betty, and is frequently 
 the means of putting young men forward in the 
 world." 
 
 'Faix, an that's thrue for ye, ma'am,' said Betty, 
 with a short pipe in her mouth, and speaking be- 
 tween the puffs. 'There's the widdy Kinnedy's son, 
 they say, has the life iv a gentleman in farrin parts ; 
 and fwhat is he bether nor my own little boys." 
 
 ' You have been rightly informed ; the young 
 man has a good situation, and is much esteemed. 
 Wliat do you suppose has raised him thus ? Educa- 
 tion and good conduct." 
 
 ' Well, well ; but some people is lucky, an he 
 only a poor scholard afther all." 
 
 * And surely, Betty, this does not lessen his mer- 
 it." 
 ' Troth, an misthress dear, its not every one id lik 
 
 * An expression of doubt, used licr* to i 
 bility. 
 
 nply inipossi- 
 
 to sind the ohilder to a poor school, and maybe have 
 it cast up in their teeth." 
 
 ' This is nonsense, Betty ; you should be rejoiced 
 such places are open for the benefit of your children 
 and send them there." 
 
 ' Ah, then, madam, I was thinkin to do that same, 
 only the neighbors crassed me an that's the truth 
 entirely." 
 
 ' In my opinion, Betty, you should not let what 
 any person says, prevent your benefitting your chil- 
 dren ; and depend upon it, if they are not usefully 
 employed in some way, they will be doing wrong." 
 ' Thrue for ye, ma'am dear — och ! och ! thrue for 
 for ye any way,' was Betty's reply. And after some 
 further conversation, the lady finding she could ef- 
 fect no good, left the house. 
 
 ' Wirra ! wirra !' muttered Betty, after her depart- 
 ure, ' but the misthress is bad about the schoolin. 
 'nieir father an all afore them had no larnin, and 
 fwhy but they cud do 'idout it ? Sorra poor-school 
 thvashel (threshold) ever they'll crass wid my will.' 
 And she kept her word. 
 
 Her sons consequently continually in bad com- 
 pany ; and the younger, who was infinitely the most 
 wicked, while a mere boy, received sentence of 
 transportation for life, for being concerned in sheep- 
 stealing. This was a sore affliction to Betty, nor 
 could she be persuaded by her mistress to believe 
 that she was, in a great measure, the cause of this 
 fatal event by denying the boy the opportunity of 
 improving his mind. 
 
 It might be supposed that, after this melancholy 
 example, Betty's repugnance to education would 
 give way, and that she would wish to see her re- 
 maining son usefully employed ; but no such thing. 
 The fate of her younger son was not imputed to his 
 own bad conduct, but to the extreme severity of the 
 laws ; and the elder son was allowed still to go on 
 in the same way, frequenting the dance-house, cock- 
 pit, bull-alley, and the toss-pit, until he attained the 
 age of nineteen, when in a drunken brawl at one of 
 those places, his leg was so much injured by a fall 
 that he was laid up for months. The wound was 
 not properly treated — Betty preferring the quack 
 remedies of all the old women in the parish, to send- 
 ing the young man at once to the infirmary. 
 
 ' Bad scran to them fur aspitals ' (hospitals,) she 
 would say, 'fwhat good was in them at all ? Nera 
 one ever wint in cum out alive ; and maybe ids 
 fwhat they'd cut off my little boy's leg an shure he 
 might as well be dead entirely — sorra good id be in 
 him afther." 
 
 And, in consequence, though the wound appear- 
 ed to heal, on the least exertion it broke out again, 
 and for a time remained very sore. However, in 
 process of time, the young man married, and still 
 continued to live in his mother's house. 
 
 About three years after her son's accident, Betty 
 and her daughter-in-law were one day seated at 
 their wheels, when a man in rusty black clothes, an 
 old hat, and a bundle in one of his hands, entered 
 the cabin with the usual salutation. 
 ' God save all here !' 
 
 ' God save ye kindly!' -was responded by the old 
 woman, and a seat offered by the young one. 
 
 After a short silence, during which the stranger 
 cast keen glances around the house from a pair of 
 sleepy looking eyes,almost concealed beneath a heavy 
 brow. Betty said : 
 
 'A fine day, sir, God be thanked.' 
 'Very fine,' replied the man, and paused, still 
 looking about, as if in expectation of seeing some 
 other person. 
 
 ' Great weather for dryin the turf,' continued 
 Betty, ' an' plentiness there'll be iv id the year ; and 
 the prates and the oats look finely, the Lord be 
 praised !' 
 
 The man murmured something, and Betty pro- 
 ceeded : 
 
 ' Happy for them that has the turf an' prates, an 
 
 oats growin for them in lashins ! God look down 
 on the poor widdy that has none, and every poor 
 crathur in the world." 
 
 'No cattle, no care," was the dry response of the 
 stranger. 
 
 ' Thrue for ye, dear ; but its hard for the poor to 
 knock the bit and the sup, let alone the rags iv 
 clothes, out iv the dozens,* and they so chape, and 
 flax dear." 
 
 ' There"s nothing but grumbling in the world," 
 said the man ; ' rich or poor, its all the same with, 
 them." 
 
 ' Och ! och ! sir, dear, shure its the poor that"a 
 smashed entirely, an" has nothin at all but the day- 
 light and the wather, God comport (comfort) 
 them ." 
 
 ' There"s plenty of water in this country, anyway," 
 replied the man. 
 
 ' A reasonable share," said Betty. ' Ids like, sir, 
 ye"re not of this country." 
 ' No," was the answer. 
 
 ' Humph! no doubt ye're a thraveller,' continued 
 Betty, and, without waiting his reply, took the pipe 
 from her mouth, rubbed it with the disengaged 
 hand, and held it to him adding, ' Will ye take a 
 blast, sir ? To be shure ye cum a good piece the 
 day.' 
 
 He took the pipe, put it in his mouth, and said, 
 ' I am indeed a great traveller— seldom off the fut." 
 ' I'll warrant ye're a dealer ; they're ever an al- 
 ways walkin. God prosper thim an' every sinner 
 that's sthriven to am in honesty," replied Betty. 
 
 ' I'm not a dealer in the way j-ou mean," said the 
 man. 
 
 ' Well, dear, in fwhatever ye are, its no harum to 
 say good luck t"ye. Maybe ids for the good of yer 
 sowl ye"re a thraveller." 
 
 'Por that and for the good of others," he said. 
 ' The mother iv God reward ye the last day," re- 
 sponded Betty. 
 
 ' Isn't some person sick in the house f" asked the 
 man, after a pause. 
 
 The women exchanged a rapid glance of astonish- 
 ment, and Betty answered : 
 
 ' Och, forreer (alas !) there is, sir, dear ; my little 
 boy is very bad entirely, and sorra one iv uz knows 
 fwhats the mather wid 'im at all." 
 ' A\Tiat does he complain of ?' 
 ' All in the leg, avourneen — all in the leg. He got 
 a hurt in id three years agone, but that was cured 
 an" he was finely tal this turn." 
 ' Can I see him ?" 
 
 ' Sir, dear, his gone to the spensary (dispensary) 
 the day." 
 
 ' Why does not the doctor tell you what is the 
 mather with him ?' 
 
 ' Nera go from them for doctors ; thcre"s no sat- 
 isfaction out IV them. Fwhen one goes to the sper - 
 sary, sorra haporth they get barrin a powdher or a 
 pill, and bid ye go home, iv ye ax what oils ye." 
 
 ' What would you give to one who could cure 
 your son ?' 
 
 ' Och, sir, acushla, any thin at all, an" my blessin 
 to boot." 
 
 ' Give me a shilling, and I'll do it.' 
 ' O, wirra, wirra, sir, dear, there's not a pinny, 
 gould, silver, nor brass inunder one roof wid me 
 this day ; och hone ! I'd give ye tin iv I had it." 
 
 'I'm sorry for it; I can do nothing without touch- 
 ing silver," replied the man, standing up, and tak- 
 ing his bundle as if to depart. 
 
 ' Och, avourneen machree," said Betty, also leav- 
 ing her seat, ' iv ye can do any thin, for the love iv 
 God, don't go." 
 
 ' I told you, I could not, except I touched silver ; 
 you say you have not any, so there's no use in my 
 staying longer." 
 
 • Hunks of yarn are called dozens, in allusion, we sup- 
 pofe to their containing twelve cuts 
 
276 
 
 IRISH iMISCELLANY. 
 
 ■An' sorra word iv lie I toul (told) yc, dear. O 
 'wimt ! ilH luird for tliu ]iuor tu liuvu money; an iv 
 a poor widily ilocsii't j{et !>unictliin for the love of 
 Uod, ftvluU'U she do." 
 
 The ninn remained, titnndin); but mnde no reptVi 
 and Hetty, who seldom continued long silent, re- 
 sumed. 
 
 ' An" ye cud cure my little boy, iv yc got a shil- 
 lin ■■ 
 
 'I hove no doubt of it,' replied the mnn. 
 
 'Arra, Judy, dear," said Hetty, turning to the 
 young woman, ' d'ye hear that, on' fwhat'U we do 
 at all, an' hasn't a pinny .■' 
 
 • Maybe I'd borry (borrow) id from \Vinny Berne, 
 an' pay her fwlieu we sell the dozens a Thurs- 
 day,' returned Judy. 
 
 • I doubt she wont have id,' said Hetty. ' She's 
 not a good warrant to sarve a nciKhbor on an am- 
 plush (nonplus.) Thndy Carty is far rcddicr only 
 its a piece otf.' 
 
 ' Iv the gantlcman's not in a hurry,' replied Judy, 
 ' I'll not be a fwhip away, on' be shure to have it 
 back wid me.' 
 
 •I'll wait a little longer,' said the man ; 'though 
 in a hurry, I'd like to serve you if I can ; its more 
 for that than the value of the money, but I'm sworn 
 not to perform any cure without touching silver.' 
 
 'The heavens may be yer bed, avoumicen, an- 
 swered Betty. 'Uun, Judy, ahegor, an' ivye can't 
 get a shillin, maybe a tester id do — its silver, ye 
 know.' 
 
 ' I cannot take less than a shilling,' said the 
 man. 
 
 ' I'll do my best, sir,' replied Judy, as she left the 
 house, and set over the fields in a half trot, the usu- 
 al pace of our countrywomen. 
 
 Hetty, who delighted in hearing herself talk, was 
 no sooner left alone with the man, than laying aside 
 the wheel, and putting a coal in the pipe, she be- 
 gan :— 
 
 ' Athen, sir, dear, fwhat way did ye know my little 
 boy was sick — maybe the neighbors toul ye r' 
 
 ' I did not speak to any of your neighbors,' he 
 replied. 
 
 ' Wirni, wirra ! but that's quare ; an' no one toul 
 ye.' 
 
 ' Not one.' 
 
 She then plied him with questions, as to where 
 he came from — whether he was a doctor, and such 
 like, in every fonn her ingenuity could devise ; but 
 received very laconic answers ; he evidently was not 
 disposed to be communicative. 
 
 After waiting some time he asked, whether the 
 woman had far to go. 
 
 ' llooh ! don't be unosy, dear," replied Betty ; 
 ' its only a little piece wid a mile, she'll not be a 
 niinit away,' 
 
 But the ' little piece wid a mile ' extended to 
 somewhat beyond two, so that Judy rctunied not 
 so quickly as her mother-in-law said. The man be 
 gan to grow impatient, and was just on the point of 
 departing, though Hetty used all her efforts to de- 
 tain him, when the messenger returned out of breath 
 with speed. 
 
 • Fwhat luck, acushla ?' exclaimed Betty, as Judy 
 came to the outside of the door. 
 
 ' Good luck ! good luck !' answered the other. 
 
 ' Didn't 1 tell ye Thady Carty is a good man on 
 a pinch,' continued Hetty. 
 
 ' Sorra sight I seen iv 'im good or bad ; he went 
 to the corp-house,' said Judy. 
 
 ' Chrish chriestha crin ! who's dead ?' interrupted 
 Betty. 
 
 • A first cousin to his aunt's husband's uncle, in 
 tlie manor,' was the reply. 
 
 ' Sau well dhca cr in, 1 freekoned,' sold Bcttj-; 
 ' an Judy, avoumcen, fwhere did ye get id r' 
 
 • Comin back iv me, I slipped over to Winny 
 Berne ; fwhcn I toul the amplush we wor in, she 
 borrit id from a neighbor tal Thursday. I kep id in ] 
 
 my mouth all the way — there was a hole in my 
 pocket ;' and she gave the shilling over to her moth- 
 er-in-law. 
 
 ' The Lord reward AVinny Heme any way,' said 
 Hetty, and handing the mum y to the man, who 
 seemed impoticntly waiting to touch it, added, 
 ' Here, sir, may (Jod give you good luck iv id, an' 
 prosper fwhat ye're goin to do. Aniin, achicrnah I' 
 
 The operator deliberately rubbed the shilling over 
 the palms of both hands, then deposited it in his 
 pocket, and said : — 
 
 * I want two clean plates and some spring water.' 
 These were given ; lie jilaccd them on a stool by 
 
 him, and pausing a few moments continued : — 
 
 ' I must have three clean articles of clothes belong- 
 ing to the sick man, or his nearest relation, before I 
 can do any thing.' 
 
 The women looked at each other in some surprise, 
 and Hetty said : — 
 
 ' Is there any thin clean belonging to 'im in the 
 box, Judy ?' 
 
 On inspection, Judy reported that ' the ncra fag- 
 get was in id, barrin one handkechcr.' 
 
 ' Fwhat'U we do now r' cned Hetty. 
 
 ' If there is any thing clean belonging to his near- 
 est relation, I said it would do,' remarked the man. 
 
 ' Here's my new coat an' my red shawl,' said 
 Judy. 
 
 • Are you a relation r' asked tlie man. 
 
 ' Shnre, isn't she the little boy's wife,' exclaimed 
 Hetty. 
 
 'Oh, then, they'll do just as well — give them to 
 me. 
 
 The three articles were handed to him ; he folded 
 and placed them on the stool by the plates. Ho then 
 said:— 
 
 ' Xow turn round to the fire, and be sure don't 
 look at nie until I speak.' 
 
 They turned their backs on him ; but the young- 
 er female possessing a good portion of mother Eve's 
 frailty, could not resist an occasional side peep, mid 
 perceived that he first took off his hat ; then search- 
 ed his vest pocket, and produced something rolled 
 in paper ; liis lips were moving as if he spoke to 
 himself. She was afraid to look steadily, for he 
 frequently turned to try if they were observing him. 
 She saw that he tied up the clothes they had given 
 him in his bundle, and that he kept rubbing one of 
 the plates for some time with his finger. Betty never 
 once looked round, but continued repeating her 
 prayers with great vehemence. 
 
 At length he called. ' See, there is your friend's 
 blood dropping from the plates ; you may depend upon 
 it he'll soon be as well as ever, the cure is granted to 
 me.' 
 
 They were not long in obeying the summons, and 
 beheld some liquid, like blood, falling drop by drop 
 Irom the plates, which were placed one over tho other. 
 ' Chrish chriestha crin ! an' is that my little boy's 
 blood — Lord save 'im !' said Betty. 
 ' Certainly,' returned the operator. 
 ' And he's cured now V exclaimed the wife. 
 'All as one,' replied the man. 'I'll see him in the 
 morning, and finish it. Let no one look into these 
 plates till I come to-morrow.' 
 
 He placed them on the top shelf of a dresser tha 
 stood near, put on his hat, and taking up his bundle, 
 was (putting the house, when Betty said, ' The Lord 
 reward ye, sir, avournecn, ye'll shurciv come the morra 
 mornin ; the little boy'll be at home then any way.' 
 
 ' You may be sure I wont leave the thing half done,' 
 replied tho man, as he went from tho door. 
 
 He was not many minutes gone, when Betty, being 
 reminded by Judy, ran after him, exclaiming, ' Sir, 
 dear, ye forgot to leave the rags the little girl giv ye — 
 the coat, an' the shawl, and the handkechcr.' 
 
 ' I did not forget them,' he said, ' I'll bring them in 
 the morning, the euro cannot be finished without them 
 — don't fear.' 
 
 ' No, dear ; only he shure to bring them ; she has 
 nera dacent stitch but the one.' 
 
 The man did not wait to hoar what sho said, bnt 
 luirrled on ; and she relumed to the house assuring 
 Judy the things would be brought back in tho moin- 
 ing ; however, Juily was not sure of this matter, but 
 made no comment. 
 
 Hetty was so firmly persuaded the charm would ef- 
 fect her son's cure, that when he relumed from the dis- 
 pensary, she scarcely |<erniittcd him to enter tho door 
 ore she called out to know whether ho did not feel him- 
 self much better. 
 
 ' I'm not so long away tliat I could know whether 
 or no,' he replied. 
 
 'Any way,' she said, 'ye're not worse, an'll soon bo 
 bett^'.er cnthircly, thanks ho to God.' 
 
 ' How do you know !' returned tho son. ' Ye're not 
 a witch nor a fortiu-tcller.' 
 
 ' No, agrah, forcer, I haven't that luck ; only I am 
 shnre ye'll soon be well, thanks and praise be to tho 
 lyord.' 
 
 Tho man began to imagine his mother was cither 
 drunk or doting; ho looked to his wife; she felt the 
 appeal, and told what had occurred, only omitting 
 what related to tho clothes, fearing they had lieen too 
 credulous. The man set up a loud laugh, when ho 
 hconl ilio tale; and Betty, rather indignantly, asked 
 why he laughed. 
 
 ' A then is id any wondher,' he replied. ' Shure no 
 one ever heard iv two sich own shaughs, to give a shil- 
 lin to a common streeler, (stroller) that's after makio 
 a hare (fool) iv yc.' 
 
 ' Ye needn't speak that away,' said Betty ; ' shure 
 didn't he show us yer blood droppin from boiune two 
 plates ; and them that cud do that id do more.' 
 
 ' Show ye the divil !' returned the son. ' Did ever 
 ye see fwhite blood comin from tho cat ? An' he'll 
 come back the morra ! O, yes, to be shnre, fwhat a 
 fool he is ! See now the way ye'U pay the shillin ye 
 were so ready to liorry.' 
 
 The women looked rather blank at this speech, but 
 were wise enough to be silent. They were in a fever- 
 ish state of anxiety all that day, and never did davand 
 night appeor of such interminable length. But the 
 longest term must have an end ; tho next morning 
 dawned, and they were up with tlic sun , hour after 
 hour Hew by ; the breakfast was eaten and still no man 
 appeared. Betty's confidence began to waver. 
 
 ' Fwliat'll we do V she said to her daughter-in-law ; 
 ' Jemmy id bo mad entirely if he heard iv the clothes.' 
 ' Nera one iv me knows,' replied Judy. ' I dread 
 we'll never see a stitch iv them.' Then, after a pause, 
 she added, ' I'll slip over to Billy ; maybe he'll tell me 
 fwhat to do.' 
 
 ' Hum, acushla ; tell 'm the amplush we are in. O, 
 wirra, iv the clothes is gone, Jemmy will kill uz out.' 
 Judy lost no time in consulting her friend ; his ad- 
 vice was to follow the charmer without delay, and ho 
 offered to accompany her. 
 
 They set out, and at a little town, a few miles olT, 
 traced him ; and following the route they heard he had 
 taken, were fortunate enough to come up with him two 
 miles farther on. Billy at once seized on and carried 
 him before the nearest magistrate, who committed hira 
 to the county jail. The clothes were secured, but the 
 shilling had been spent, except twopence, and the only 
 other article he had on his person was a paper, con- 
 taining a small quantity of rose-pink, wiili which he 
 caused the appearance of blood that had deceived the 
 women, as the sediment was found on the plates. 
 
 The principal events of the foregoing were, as nearly 
 as I can recollect them, given in evidence before tho 
 
 assistant barrister of the county of — . When the 
 
 swindler, or charmer, whichever term may seem most 
 appropriate, was brought to trial he made no defence, 
 and appeared to care very little for tho sentence of im- 
 prisonment passed on him. 
 
 Judy recovered her clothes, much to the satisfaction 
 of Betty, who declared she never would put faiih in 
 streclers no more. They were obliged to spin hard for 
 some time to repay the shilling. And, in the end, 
 poor Judy was left a widow, her husband soon afler dy- 
 ng of a mortification in the sore leg. W. 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 277 
 
 TOMB or THE ST. LAURENCE FAMILY. 
 
 ABBEY OP noWTH. 
 
 In the south aisle of the Abbey of Howth, near the 
 east window, stands a tomb, on the skb of which is 
 represented, in a rec:imbent posture, in Iiigh relief, the 
 figure of a knight, and by his side that of a lady. The 
 heads of both are supported by tasselled cushions ; the 
 feet of the knight rest upon a dog, and those of the 
 lady on a cushion similar to that under her head. The 
 hands of both are raised and laid flat on the breast, the 
 palms inwards ; the countenances are peculiarly placid 
 and agreeable. The knight is in complete armor from 
 crown to heel, and belted with his trusty sword. His 
 lady love is attired in a fanciful head dress, a close bod- 
 ice, wide sleeves, terminated at the wrists by cuffs; and 
 from the waist is enveloped in an elegantly plaited tun- 
 ic, the train of which descends in graceful folds below 
 her feet; a nondescript ornament hangs in front, on 
 which a cross may be traced. On the levelled edge of 
 the slab there has been an inscription now defaced ; the 
 sides and ends are beautifully sculptured; the head 
 and foot repesents the figures of saints in Gothic niches. 
 And on the sides the armorial bearings of the family 
 and its connexions are displayed, surrounded by rich 
 and florid tracery ; among these escutcheons the arms 
 of St. Laurence and Plunket are the most conspicuous. 
 
 There is a peculiarity in this tomb I have not seen 
 generally noticed — the lady on the slab and the Plunket 
 arms occupy the place of honor, namely, the dexter 
 side. Can this be satisfactorily accounted for ? 
 
 There are some other monuments, but none of any 
 particular interest. On the floor, close by the south 
 wall, are two freestones flags, with ornamented crosses 
 in relief; they, perhaps, mark the graves of some of 
 the ecclesiastics. 
 
 R. A. 
 
 WITCHCRAFT IN KILKENNY. 
 
 Sir — I take the liberty of ac(|uainting you with the 
 satisfaction I derive from the perusal of the Dublin 
 Penny Journal, feeling that the expression of appro- 
 bation (however humble the individual it may come 
 from) must be cheering to an editor. That much good 
 may be done to Ireland by your work if conducted in 
 the spirit which it has hitherto exhibited, no one can 
 hesitate to believe, and that it will receive the encour- 
 agement, it appears to me to merit, I sincerely trust. 
 
 The sketch of witchcraft by Sir Walter Scott, re- 
 cently published in Mr. Murray's family library, is, in- 
 pecd, to use his own expressive phrase — ' the history 
 of a dark chapter in human nature.' Cervantes says, 
 ' That witches do nothing which lead to any object,' , 
 
 I )ct It appears evident that that which the tortured 
 imagination of these unhappy persons can confess, leads 
 I I 111 ough so troubled a stream to the fountain of fairy 
 ] I f,ends. 
 
 riio persecution of the Lady Alice Kettcll, at Kil- 
 ktnny, for witchcraft, is, perhaps, one of the earliest 
 upon record. Tlic Bishop of Ossory, is stated to have 
 1 een her accuser, and to have charged her and two 
 companions with various diabolical acts ; among oih- 
 tr that of holding a conference, every night, with a. 
 spuit called Robin Artisson, to whom, as you have re- 
 lated they were said to sacrifice nine red Cocks, and 
 nme Peacocks' eyes. 
 
 In this ecclesiastical persecution, the object of which 
 appears to have been to extort money to cover the roof 
 of St. Mark's Church, in Kilkenny, the connexion 
 with the fairy creed is obvious from the name o( the 
 evil spirit. The appellation ot Artisson, any Irish 
 scholar will at once perceive has had its origin in the 
 sacrifice said to be nightly oflered up, as the translation 
 ot It IS chicken flesh, and with respect to the name of 
 Robin, I cannot help thinking when Sir V\ alter Scott 
 tells us, that ' by some inversion and alteration of pro- 
 nunciation' the English word goblin aud the Scottish 
 bogle come from the same root as the German Ko- 
 bold he may as well have added poor Robin, if only 
 for the sake of good-fellowship as Robin's punning 
 namesake, Thomas Hood, would have said. 
 
 That Robin, however, was the popular name for a 
 fairy of much repute, is sufficiently well-known ; but 
 since the mention of his name has accidentally occur, 
 red with that of Hood, I may be allowed to observe 
 that the title assumed by, or applied to the famous out- 
 law, was no other than one which had been appropri- 
 ated to a denizen of fairy land. Hudikin or Hodekin, 
 that is little hood, or cowl, being a Dutch or German 
 spirit, so called from the most remarkable part of his 
 dress, in which also the Norweigian Nis and Spanish 
 Duende were believed to appear — 
 
 ' Un cucurriicho tamanc' 
 to use the words of Calderon. There is in Oxford 
 street a well-known Coach office, distinguished by the 
 sign of ' the green man and still,' but why so called I 
 have never had satisfactorily explained by the curious 
 in such matters. The derivation of the Bull and 
 Mouth, the Belle Savage, the Talbot, (old Chaucer's 
 Tabart,) and many other signs, which may be quoted 
 in proof of the mutability of things, are familiar to all, 
 yet the origin of the aforesaid Green Man and Still, re- 
 mains involved in the most mysterious obscurity. I 
 have, however, always been inclined to consider it as 
 remotely derived from Robin Hood ; and leaving fancy 
 to fill up the chasm, have found myself willing to 
 translate it as 'ihe forrester and fairy,' or the green or 
 woodman, and the still folk or silent people, as the su- 
 pernatural beings which we call fairies, were not unus- 
 ually termed — 'Das still Volk' being the common Ger- 
 man expression. 
 
 This long digression, like the treacherous Friar 
 Rush, might readily lead me on from ' the merry green 
 wood,' until I became bewildered in the mazes of con- 
 jecture. Allow me, therefore, to return to ICilkenny, 
 the scene of Alice Kettell's conjurations. That town 
 appears to have been peculiarly fatal to witches. Sir 
 Richard Cox, in his history of Ireland, mentions the 
 visit of Sir William Drury, the Lord Deputy, to it, in 
 October, ir)78, who caused Ihirty-si.x criminals to be 
 executed there, ' one of which was a black-a-moor, and 
 two others were witches, and were condemned by the 
 law of nature, for there was no positive law against 
 witchcraft in these days.' From that it would appear 
 that the Statue of the 33rd of Henry VIII. against 
 witchcraft hud either become a dead letter, or had not 
 been enacted in Ireland. 
 
 Ireland has been, in my opinion, unjustly stigmatis- 
 ed as a barliarou.s und superstitious country. It is 
 certain that the cruel persecutions carried on against 
 poor and ignorant old women was nothing in Ireland 
 when compared with other countries. In addition to 
 the three executions at Kilkenny, a town, the inhabi- 
 tants of which were almost entirely either English set- 
 tlers or of English descent, I only remember to have 
 met with an account of one other execution foa the 
 
 crime of witchcraft. This latter took place at Antrim* 
 in 1699, and it is, I believe, the last on record. The 
 particulars of this silly tragedy were printed in a 
 pamphlet, entiiled 'The bewitching of a child in Ire- 
 land,' and from thence copied liy Professor Sinclair, in 
 his work entitled ' Satan's Invisible world discovered,' 
 which is frequently referred to by Sir Walter Scott in 
 his letters on Demonology. 
 
 I have to apologize for the length to which my letter 
 has extended, aud to subscribe myself. 
 
 Your very humble servant, 
 
 T. Crofton Ceokbe 
 
 A TOUR TO CONNAUCHT. 
 
 LETTER VIII. 
 To the Editor of the Dublin Penny Journal: — 
 
 Dear Mr. Penny Journal, — In answer to your note 
 requesting to know whether I intended to proceed with 
 my Tour of Connaught, I desire to tell you, that along 
 wilh the influenza, a disease still more unusual has 
 come over me, and untrue to the characteristic hardi- 
 hood and nonchalance of an O'Toole, I have been in- 
 duced to think that my trivial remarks, caught up as 
 driving along the dusty road to Athlone, are little 
 worthy of your sober, useful, and instructive periodi- 
 cal. However, as you properly suggest that as I un- 
 dertook to travel in your pages at all, I ought to touch 
 Connaught before your present volume is concluded, 
 I shall make a push to get to Athlone, and there, per- 
 haps, the Shannon may revive my self-respect, and a 
 dip in its translucent waters act with the the efficacy 
 for which it is proverbial, and wash away the modesty 
 that is so foreign to my Milesian nature. 
 
 I recollect, sir, what perhaps has escaped the recol- 
 lection of your readers, that I had got beyond Horse- 
 leap, and was on the road to the next stage — Moate; 
 formerly called the Moate of Gren-oge — the Moate of 
 young Grania or Grace. Some legend there is con- 
 cerning a Milesian princess taking on Iiersclf the office 
 of a Brehon, and from this Moate adjudicating causes, 
 and delivering her oral laws to her people. At pres- 
 ent it is a neat and pretty place, as all towns in Ire- 
 land are that are much inhabited by Quakers. It is 
 really refreshing, after having your senses of sight, smell- 
 ing, and hearing, outraged iu passing through an assem- 
 blage of mud cabins, pig-sties and dung-hills, as Kil- 
 cock and Kinnegad present, to see the cultivated fields, 
 the slated cottages, and the whitewashed dwellings in 
 and about Moate. I have often, since Ihe hot blood 
 of the O'TooIe's has begun to run cooler in my veins, 
 supposed that Ireland might bo advantaged were its 
 people to turn Quakers. What a change my fancy 
 contemplates — a nation of fighters turned into a com- 
 munity of friends; but how cruel would it be thus to 
 cut up the trades of distillers, publicans, pikc-mukers, 
 and policemen; and then, as these Quakers are neither 
 Protestants or Catholics — as they care little for priest 
 or parson — can they be Christians? I confess I know 
 little of their specific doctrines, but methinks their 
 practices are more gospel-like than those even of my 
 own believing race; and I am tempted to suppose that 
 Captains Rock or O'Toole have not, wilh all their 
 faith and all their exploits, done as much good in their 
 generation, as these smootli, and snug, and easy-going 
 people. To be sure, they, too, had their hot times as 
 well as others, and the steady, demure, barrel-bodied 
 Friend, with his single-breasted surcoat, scarcely able 
 to girth in his abdomenic protuberance, or the pale, 
 placid, dove eyed and sadly-attired sister of the pres- 
 ent day, are but cool contrasts to the stern, burning, 
 fervid, bareboned, proselytizing fanatic of George Fox's 
 time, who roamed the world testifying against par- 
 sons, priests, and steeple-houses. When John Parrot, 
 moved by mighty impulse, went to convert the Doge 
 of Venice, and Samuel Fisher rushed to Rome to tes- 
 tify the truth before roseate cardinals, and instead of 
 kissing the pope's toe give it a bite, and told his holi- 
 ness he was anti-Christ — nay more, when the fair Mary 
 Fisher appeared in her simple garb and sweet, solemn 
 face before the Turkish Sultan, in the presence of hig 
 
278 
 
 IRISH mSCELLAlST. 
 
 mifjhty army at Ailrii»no|ilc, and tlicro upoke what she I peel; ilie western horizon cxhibiLs notliing Imt a mo- 
 hail on her mind wiih such nimplu solemnity and In- notonoua line, unrelieved by mountnin or wooded cle- 
 veilod modesty, ihiil Maliomct heard her wlih gravity | vution, nnd the kinRdom of Cunniui};ht does not smile 
 and attention, and ihoii);h ho mi^lit have wished to ! on you iis a hind of promise; nnd thont;h it may be 
 have such a variety of womankind in his harem, tie rirh in flocks and herds, and may How with milk, and 
 dismissed her with admiration and respect; so much so, ■ for nughl I know, honey, I think from a first view of 
 
 thiit she passed through hordes of I'aynims without a 
 guard, and arrived ai Constantinople without scofl" or 
 hurt — I say, the quiet, sedate, unmeddling Quakers of 
 the present day, arc as dilVerent from their progenitors 
 as the Frigid from the Torrid Zone, and occupying 
 now the cool, ecciuestered character of those who mind 
 their own business; we see them prosperous in thcm- 
 lelvcs, nnd not interfering with others, except in a 
 temporal sense, to do them good. 
 
 Moate a Grcn-ogo is surrounded with ruined castles 
 nnd churches, moats, raths, and memorials of the wars, 
 the feuds, and ferocities of former times. It has had 
 also its day of great Quaker prosperity, which is, 1 
 fear, passing away; for the manfaciures of linen and 
 cotton which these good people encouraged, and which 
 they upheld perhaps longer than any other class of em- 
 ployers, are now undersold and almost ruined by the 
 overwhelming power of British machinery. The pret- 
 ty, grassy and well-cultivated hills around this town, 
 surrounded as they are by large bogs, have, as a good 
 military position, been the scene, in the wars of Ire- 
 land, of many a skirmish and battle. Here, in the 
 wars of the Revolution, a severe battle was fought be 
 twecn the forces of King William, under General De 
 Giiikle, and of James, under Brigadier ClilVord. The 
 Irish attempted to defend the town, which was merely 
 ditched and palisadoed, but were forced to evacuate it 
 and fall back on Athlone; the horse retreating by the 
 road, the infantry through the bogs nnd fastnesses with 
 which the country abounds. Here the Kapcrees — 
 who, in those days, were so numerous and so effective, 
 and who seemed to be actuated with the same spirit, 
 nnd to put in practice the same warfare as the Spanish 
 Guerrillas, to the no small astonishment of the English 
 nrmy, had recourse to a monrruvre with which they 
 were familiar. — a large party that had skirmished with 
 the British regiments, and given them no small an- 
 noyance by their bush-tiring and desultory attack, 
 driven by the bayonet, fled to the red bog on the left 
 of the town, and there, ns if hy enchantment, hundreds 
 of men, in the open day, instantly disappeared — they 
 were gone as ghosts — and not a single runaway could 
 be seen as a mark for a bullet or a butt for a bayonet 
 or pike. Storey, in his interesting account of these 
 civil wars, thus describes this evasion — 'The Raperees 
 escaped to the bog, and in a moment all disappeared, 
 which may seem strange to those who have not seen it; 
 but something of this kind I have seen myself, and it 
 is thus done: — When the Raperees have no mind to 
 show themselves upon the hogs, they commonly sink 
 down between two or three hillocks grown over with 
 long gross, so that you may as soon find a hare as one 
 of them, and they conceal their arms thus: — they take 
 ofl' the lock, and put it in their pocket or hide it in 
 gome dry place; they stop the muzzle close with a 
 cork, and the touch-hole with a small ([uill and then 
 throw the piece itself into a bog-hole. You see one 
 hundred of them without arms, who look like the poor- 
 est, humblest slaves in the world, and you may search 
 until you are weary befo'e you find one of their guns; 
 but yet, when they have a mind to do mischief, they 
 are all ready at an hour's warning, for every one 
 know where to go and fetch his own arms, though 
 you do not.' 
 
 The road from Moate to Athlone passes over a 
 countrj-, as I have before observed, consisting of ranges 
 of limestone gravel hills, rising from moors and red 
 bogs; the hills in general range from east to west, and 
 
 it, I can enter into the feelings of that lord of the Palo 
 — some Plunkett or Barnwell, 1 forget which — who 
 desired to have it engraved on his tomb in the Abbey 
 of Kilconnel, that as his 'summum malum," he was 
 banished by the usurper Cromwell, into the kingdom 
 of Connaught. As you approach Athlone, high lands 
 to the northwest do not allow you to see the broad ex- 
 panse of Lough Ree; hut on casting my eye in an op- 
 posite direction, at the distance of about seven miles — 
 just at the termination of a line of picturesque hills — 
 the round tower of Clonmacnoise, rose like the termi- 
 nus of a kingdom, to mark, as it were, the limit of 
 some royal or ecclesiastical frontier — the boundarj' 
 pillar between O'Mclachlin, King of Meath, and 
 O'Connor, King of Connaught. At the period of this 
 coach expedition of mine, I had not seen, nor had I 
 formed any conception of the importance, in an anti- 
 quarian or picturesque sense, of the ruined churches of 
 Clonmacnoise; hut as a descendant of O'Toole, the 
 guardian of Glendalough, I determined to see whether 
 St. Kieran had done as much for Clonmacnoise, the 
 river sanctuary, as St. Kevin had done for the moun- 
 tain retreat of my native hills, and subsequently, Mr. 
 Penny Journal, I did carry my resolution into effect; 
 and if allowed in your forthcoming volume, I will de- 
 scribe what I saw there; in the meantime let me get to 
 Athlone, concerning which I have as much perhaps to 
 say, OS will find admittance into this number. 
 
 As you approach the town you do not see much of 
 it, because it is sunk in the hollow through which the 
 Shannon forces its way in order to reach the flats to 
 the south, and nothing in or about the town impresses 
 you with the idea of beauty, industry, or prosperity. 
 It contains distilleries, whiskey-houses, soldiers, and 
 few Quakers. The coach stops at the Westmeath 
 side; and neither in the street outside, or inside of the 
 inn wheie you put up, do you find much that may ad- 
 minister to your pleasure or comfort; neither is there 
 any thing in the town, when you walk abroad, to catch 
 your attention; no antiijue buildings — no marks of 
 ancient power or splendor; when you wish to see the 
 Shannon, you go through a narrow street, or rather 
 lane, towards the bridge, which you find narrow, and 
 encumbered with mills and houses, besides sundry an- 
 noyances movable and immovable — but still if you can 
 with any safety, amidst the rush of pigs, cars and Con- 
 naught men, stand on this important bridge, and ob- 
 serve the huge volume of the Shannon rushing rapidly 
 and clearly under its many arches — look upwards, and 
 you will perceive how the stream bristles with staked 
 eel-wears — and above them, the cots of fishermen, and 
 the pleasure yachts of the officers of the garrison; look 
 across the river, and you will see the old castle, com- 
 manding the river-pass, once the residence of the Lord 
 President of Connaught, and the well-defended posi- 
 tion maintained for the English in the rebellion of 
 1641, by the Lord Ranelagh — and for the Irish, still 
 more resolutely, by Colonel Grace, in the war of the 
 Revolution; who forced General Douglas to raise the 
 siege in 1690, and in the following year defended it 
 with a vigor and tenacity which, if supported as he 
 should have been by the French auxiliaries under St. 
 Ruth, must have foiled his adversaries. Perhaps 
 modem warfare docs not present an instance of greater 
 intrepidity and dcvotcdness, than was exhibited on 
 this occasion; a great interest, indeed, was excited by 
 this siege; the attack, supported by the whole force of 
 Gieat Britain in Ireland; the defence sustained by the 
 
 seem formed by currents of sulisiding waters falling ! whole combined power of the Irish and French army, 
 towards the great drain of central Ireland — the Shan- led on by a general who had acquired a great name in 
 non. Wherever (as is the case in a great measure be- | the wars of the continent. This old bridge on which 
 tween Moate and Athlone,) the hills arc planted and ' I now stand, built by Sir Henry Sidney, in the reign 
 the morasses drained, the country is beautiful, and of Elizabeth, had one arch next the Connaught hank 
 more especially about Moate, the patient industry of i broken down. The powerful artillery of De Ginkle 
 the Quakers has done much. As you approach the ] had battered the castle covering the bridge on the 
 Shannon, the country presents a flat and gloomy as- ' western side, into a heap of ruins; every thing sunk 
 
 before the shot and shell of the well served British ar 
 tillcry. The Irish labored incessantly to repair the 
 breaches in the walls; the workmen fell as fast as they 
 came to work — hut ns they were swept away, others 
 took their places, and still men were found ready to 
 labor at a task that brought certain death. But the 
 English general was not yet the nearer to his point; 
 there was the hitherto unfordnbic Shannon, and there 
 was the bridge with its broken arch; gun and mortar 
 had done their worst, but Athlone was not gained. It 
 was resolved, then, to force the position, by throwing 
 a wooden gallery across the chasm. 
 
 The British, under the shelter of the fire of their 
 tremendous artillery, had constructed a breastwork on 
 the bridge, at their side of the broken arch. The Irish 
 had one on their part, composed of wattles and earth; 
 but this was set on fire by the continual shower of shot 
 and grenades; and while it vi&s fiercely burning, the 
 English concealed by the flame and smoke, succeeded 
 in pushing large beams across the cha.'^m, and now it 
 was only necessary to place boards over the beams, 
 and the river was srosscd! when an Irish sergeant and 
 ten men in complete armor leaped across the burning 
 breastwork, and proceeded to tear up the beams and 
 planks. The British were astonished at such hardi- 
 hood, and actually paused in making any opposition 
 — but the next instant a shower of grape shot and 
 grenades swept these brave men away, who, neverthe- 
 less, were instantly succeeded by another party, that 
 in spite of the iron hail storm tore np planks, beams 
 and all, and foiled the enterprise of their foes. Of this 
 second party only two escaped — there is scarcely on 
 record, a nobler instance of heroism than this deliber- 
 ate act of these Irish soldiers, who have died without a 
 name. 
 
 General De Ginkle made another unsuccessful at- 
 tempt to throw a gallery across the broken arch; when, 
 foiled in all his attempts, a circumstance came to bis 
 knowledge which saved him from the disgraceful al- 
 ternative of raising the siege, and which perhaps turned 
 the fortune of the whole war. The river, for the first 
 time in the memory of man, was found fordable a little 
 below the bridge — two Danish soldiers, who for some 
 crime had been sentenced to be shot, on promise of 
 pardon tried the pass, and returned safe. It was then 
 given out and believed by both armies that the siege 
 was to be raised; and when the Irish saw the English 
 motion, they lay in perfect security, and the French 
 camp, a mile beyond, was equally still. St. Ruth and 
 his oflicers had been gambling and dancing all night 
 in a house, the unroofed walls of which are still stand- 
 ing, some distance from tlie town; they had retired to 
 rest as happily secure as if they had been in Paris. 
 On a sudden, at morning's dawn, and with no other 
 music than the tolling of St. Mary's bell, sixty chosen 
 men in armor plunged into the stream, twenty abreast, 
 and iu a very few minutes the opposite bank was 
 gained — the bridge possessed — and with cool and 
 steady bravery they set about reconstructing the gal- 
 lery, whereby their comrades could follow them. The 
 Irish were taken by surprise, and had only time to es- 
 cape out of the town, some without arms, some with- 
 out clothes, and many were taken asleep on the ram 
 parts. The British soldiers did not slaughter the 
 sleeping men, and Mackey, their general, who led 
 them on — a man whose religion was equal to his valor 
 — felt it more necessary to reprove his men for the 
 daring blasphemies which they uttered, as they strug- 
 gled over the difficulties presented by the ruined 
 masses of the fortress, than to reproach them for want 
 of humanity and courage. 
 
 The first express which reached St. Ruth, that the 
 British were passing the river, found him dressing for 
 a shooting excursion. He gave the messenger a deaf 
 ear, and when urged by some one present to take in- 
 stant measures, he replied that he would give a thous- 
 and louis to hear that the English durst attempt to 
 pass. 'Spare yonr money and mind your business,' 
 was the gruff retort of Sarsfield, 'for I know that no 
 enterprise is too difficult for British courage to at- 
 tempt.' 
 One would think that I was a veteran captain or 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 279 
 
 bold dnigoon, in thus ovineing such a predilection for 
 describing scenes of blood and battle. Bnt show me 
 tlio man, woman, or child who loves not to hear and 
 road of battles. I much question whether even a de- 
 mure nunkor of Moate or Mountmcllick would not 
 take pleasure in reading a bulletin of Aughrim or 
 Waterloo, or some spirit-stirring memorial of the 
 tented field. But I am wandering from the bridge, 
 though not yet done ^Yith it. 
 
 There is a curiously sculptured monument on it 
 bearing an inscription rather difficult to read, which 
 records that 'in the 9th year of the reigne of our most 
 derc soveraign ladie Elizabeth, this bridge was built 
 by the device and order of Sir Henry Sidney, Knt., 
 who finished it in less than one year, hi the good In- 
 dustrie and diligence of Peter Levis, Clk. Chanter of 
 the Cathedral Chnrch of Christ, llublin, and steward 
 to said Deputy.' The inscription goes on to state that 
 'in the same yeare the bridge was finished, the newo 
 worke was begun in the Castel of Dublin, besides 
 many other notable workes in sundrie other places. 
 Also the arch rebel, Shane O'Neil, was overthrowne, 
 his head set on a gate of the said Castel; Coyne and 
 Livery abolished, and the whole realm brought into 
 such obedience to her majestic as the like Iranquilitie 
 hath no where been seen.' In a compartment of this 
 monument is the figure of Master Levis, attired in his 
 Geneva gown; in his right hand is something which is 
 said to be a pistol, though it is twisted, and more cal 
 ciliated to represent a screw than an instrument of 
 death. On this pistol is the figure of a rat, appearing 
 to bite the thumb which is holding it. 
 
 Peter Levis is said to have been an English monk 
 who turned Protestant, and coming over to Ireland, 
 was made a dignitary of Christ Church; being a man 
 of great scientific and mechanical knowledge. Sir Hen- 
 ry Sidney sent him to superintend the erection of this 
 important bridge; but being a turncoat, a righteous 
 rat, vexed with such tergiversation, followed and 
 haunted him — by day and niglit, at bed and board — on 
 horseback or in boat, the disgusting vermin pursued 
 him, slept on his pillow, and dipped and dabbled its 
 tail or whisker in all he eat or drank — the church itself 
 could not save him from the persecution. One day in 
 the church of St. Mary's, Athlone, he ventured to 
 preach, and lo, this unclean beast kept peering at him 
 with its bitter, taunting eye, all the time he was hold- 
 ing forth; and when he descended the pulpit, after 
 having dismissed the congregation, the cursed creature 
 still remained with his reverence. This was too much 
 — Master Levis presented a pistol, which he had al- 
 ways about him, to shoot it — the sagacious and unac- 
 countable creature, to avert the shot, leaped up on the 
 pistol, as represented on the monnment, and seizing 
 the parson's thumb, inflicted such a wound as to bring 
 on a locked jaw, which terminated in his death. 
 
 I will not stake my veracity on the truth of this 
 story, but at all events, this much will I assume, that 
 here we have most satisfactorily explained the origin 
 of the phrase, 'to rat,' as applied to changelings; and 
 without wishing to east my stigma on Master Levis, 
 who may have been a sincere and honest, as he cer- 
 tainly appears to have been a clever, man, I may add, 
 that the conscience-stricken state of those who change 
 their opinions for worldly advantages, is well typefied 
 by the molestation of that unclean, nasty, voracious 
 reptile, the rat. 
 
 Now, Mr. Penny Journal, I have complied with 
 your request, and finished my Tour to Connaught, by 
 leaving your readers at the Bridge of Athlone. A 
 tour in Connaught is a different matter, and I do not 
 say that it will never appear. 
 
 I am, &c., &c., 
 
 Terence O'Toole. 
 
 The DttowNED Shepherd. — In 1821, when the 
 western part of Ireland was afHieted with grevous 
 famine, and when England stepped forward nobly, 
 and poured forth her thousands to save those who 
 were perishing for want, a depot of provisions was 
 established on the sea-coast, for the relief of the 
 suffering inhabitants of this remote district, 
 
 A solitary family, wKo had been driven from 
 their lowland home by the severity of a relentless 
 middle-man, had settled themselves in this wild 
 valley, and erected the clay walls of that ruined 
 hut before you. The man was shepherd to a farm- 
 er who kept cattle on these mountains. Here, in this 
 savage retreat, he lived removed from the world, 
 for the nearest cabin to this spot is more than four 
 miles distant. 
 
 It may be supposed that the general distress af- 
 flicted this isolated family. The welcome news of 
 the arrival of succors at Ballycroyat length reached 
 them, and the herdsman set out to procure some of 
 the eomraittee-meal to relieve the hunger of his half- 
 starved family. 
 
 On arriving at the depot the stock of meal was 
 nearly expended, however, he obtained a temporary 
 supply, and was comforted with the assurance that 
 a large quantity was hourly expected. 
 
 Anxious to bring the mean's of sustenance to his 
 suffering little ones, the herdsman crossed the moun- 
 tains with his precious burden, and reached that 
 hillock where the stones arc loosely piled. 
 
 But during his absence at Ballycroy, the rain had 
 fallen heavily in the hills ; the river was no longer 
 fordable — a furious torrent of discolored water rush- 
 ed from the heights, and ehoaked up the narrow 
 channel. There stood the returning parent, within 
 twenty paces of his wretched but dearly loved hovel. 
 The children with a cry of delight rushed from the 
 hut to the opposite bank to welcome him ; but ter- 
 rified by the fearful appearance of the flood, his 
 wife entreated him not to attempt its passage for the 
 present. 
 
 But would he, a powerful and experienced swim- 
 mer, be deterred ? The eager and hungry looks of 
 his expecting family, maddened the unhappy father. 
 He threw aside his clothes, bound them with the 
 meal upon his back — crossed himself devoutly, and 
 ' in the name of God,' committed himself to the 
 swollen river. 
 
 Eor a moment he breasted the torrent gallantly — 
 two stroke more would bring him to the bank — 
 when the treacherous load turned, caught him round 
 the neck, swept him down the stream, sank, and 
 drowned him. He struggled hard for life. Hi; 
 wife and children followed the unhappy man as he 
 was borne away — and their agonizing shrieks told 
 him, poor wretch, that assistance from them was 
 hopeless. At last, the body disappeared, and was 
 taken up the following morning four miles from this 
 fatal place. One circumstance attended this calami 
 ty ; to philosophers I leave its elucidation, while I 
 pledge myself for its accuracy in point of fact. A 
 herd of cattle gallopped madly down the river-side 
 at the time their unhappy keeper was perishing — 
 their bellowings were heard for miles, and they were 
 discovered next morning grouped around the body 
 of the dead shepherd, in the comer of a sandy cove 
 where the abated flood had left it. 
 
 Let ancient or modern history bo produced, they 
 will not afford a more heroic display of sentiment, 
 than the reply of Yankee Stonington to the British 
 commanders. The people were piling the balls which 
 the enemy had wasted, when the foe applied for them. 
 'We want balls — will you sell them!' They an- 
 swered, 'We want powder — send us powder and we'll 
 roturn your balls.' 
 
 LISMORE CASTLE. 
 
 COUNTY or WATERKORD. 
 
 Lismore, or properly Lios-mor, the groat habitation, 
 (translated Atrium magnum in the ancient life of St. 
 Oarlhagh) a town now chiefly remarkable fur the beau- 
 ty of its situation, and its magnificent castle, was an- 
 ciently a city of considerable distinction, and eminent 
 above most others in Ireland for ihe splendor of its 
 cathedral, the celebrity of its college, and the great 
 number of its religious houses. 
 
 As the history and antiquities of this celebrated and 
 truly interesting place will furnish us with matter for 
 more than one article, we shall confine our notices in 
 
 the present number to the immediate subject of our 
 present illustration, which is characterized by an ac- 
 comi)lishud English traveller. Sir Richard C. Hoare, 
 as presenting, in every point of view, a bold and im- 
 posing object, and alFording the best subject for the 
 pencil of any building he had seen during his Irish 
 tour. 
 
 This fine castle was originally founded by the young 
 Earl of Morcton, afterwards ICing John, in the year 
 1185, and is said to have been the last of three for- 
 tresses of the kind which he erected during his visit to 
 Ireland. In four years afterwards it was taken by sur- 
 prise and broken down by the Irish, who regarded with 
 jealousy and fear the strong holds erected by the Eng- 
 lish to secure and enlarge their conquests. On this 
 occasion the garrison, with its commander, Robert 
 Barry, were put to the sword. Being afterwards re- 
 built, it became for a considerable period an Episcopal 
 residence, until the celebrated Miler Magrath, Arch- 
 bishop of Cashel and Bishop of this See, sometime be- 
 fore his resignation in 1589, by the consent of the Dean 
 and Chapter, granted to Sir Walter Raleigh the manor 
 and other lands of Lismore, at the yearly rent of 
 ,£13 6s. 8d. From Sir .Walter, the estate and castle 
 passed by purchase into the hands of Sir Richard 
 Boyle afterwards Earl of Cork, who considerably beau- 
 tified it as a residence, and added thereto many build- 
 ings, some of which were afterwards destroyed in the 
 rebellion of 1641. At the commencement of this un 
 happy civil war, the castle was closely bescigcd by 
 5,000 Irish, commanded by Sir Richard Bcling, and 
 defended by the young Lord Broghill, third son to the 
 Earl of Cork, who by his conduct and bravery obliged 
 the Irish to raise the seige. It was on this occasion 
 he wrote to his father the letter which has been so of- 
 ten quoted with admiration and applause — a feeling in 
 which wc should not be disinclined to concur, if the 
 character of the writer had been as eminent for human- 
 ity as it unquestionably was for courage. It runs as 
 follows : 
 
 ' I have sent out my quarter-master to know the pos- 
 ture of the enemy ; they were, as I am informed by 
 those who were in the action, 5,000 strong, and well 
 armed, and that they intended to attack Lismore ; when 
 I have received certain intelligence, if I am a third 
 part of their number I will meet them to-morrow morn- 
 ing, and give them one blow before they beseige us ; if 
 their number be such, that it will be more folly than 
 valor, I will make good this place which I am in. 
 
 I tried one of the ordnances made at the forge, and 
 it held with a pound chaige; so that I will plant it 
 upon the terras over the river. My lord, fear nothing 
 for Lismore ; for if it be lost, it shall be with the life 
 of him that begs your lordship's blessing, and styles 
 himself your lordship's most humble, most obliged, 
 and most dutiful son and servant, 
 
 BROOniLL.' 
 
 The town and castle were again attacked by the Irish 
 with a superior force, in 1643, of which the following 
 circumstantial account is given in a manuscript diary 
 of the Earl of Cork, now preserved in the Castle : 
 
 ' 1643, July 10. This day the rebel Lieutenant, 
 General Purcell, commanding again in chief, in re- 
 venge of his former defeat received at Cappoquin, re- 
 inforced his army to 7,000 foot, and 900 horse, with 
 three pieces of ordnance, and drew again near to Cap- 
 poquin, and there continued four days, wasting and 
 spoUing the country round about, but attempted noth- 
 ing of any consequence. And when the 22d at night, 
 that the Lord Viscount Bluskrie came to the Irish 
 army with some addition of new forces, they removed 
 from Cappoquin in the night before my castle of Lis- 
 more, and on the Saturday morning the 2.'id July, 
 1643, they began their battery from the church to the 
 east of Lismore-house, and made a breach into my own 
 house which Capt. Broadripp and my warders, being 
 about 1 50, repaired stronger than it was before, and shot 
 there till Thursday, the 27th, and never durst attempt to 
 enter the breach, my ordnance and musket shot from my 
 castle did so apply them. Then they removed their bat- 
 tery to the southwest of my castle, and continued beating 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 LISMORE CASTLE. 
 
 ■gainst my orchard -wall, but never ventured into my I related, that on going to a window which overlooks the 
 orchard, my shot from my turrets did so continually river, he started back, appalled at its fearful height- 
 beat and clear the curtcyn of the wall. The 2Sth of I anil lastly, in 1785, the Duke of Rutland, then Lord 
 
 July God sent my two sons, Dungarvan and Broghill 
 to land at Yougal, out of England, and tlie 29th they 
 rode to the Lord of Inchiquins, who with the army 
 were drawn to Tallagh, and staid there in expectation 
 of Colonel Peyn, wiih his regiment from Tymolay, 
 who failed to join, but Inchiciuin, Dungarvan and 
 Broghill, and Sir John Powlett, the Saturday in the 
 evening (upon some oilier directions brought over by 
 Dungarvan from his Sliijoty,) he made treaty that 
 evening with Muskric and others, and the Saturday 
 the 30th, they agreed upon a cessation for six days. 
 Monday night, when they could not enter mv house. 
 
 Lieutenant, who held a council. But the castle de- 
 rives but little interest from such visitors, in compari- 
 son with that of being the birth-place of the celebrated 
 philosopher, Robert Boyle. 
 
 In conclusion, we shall add tha following correct de- 
 scription of the present state and appearance of the 
 castle, from the Rev. Mr. Ryland's excellent History 
 of Wnterford : 
 
 ' The castle of Lismore is one of the most magnifi- 
 cent of the ancient Irish residences, and is seen to great 
 advantage from being built on a very elevated situation 
 on the verge of a hill, the river Blackwater running 
 
 Ihcy removed their selge and withdrew the ordnance close to the foundation. 
 
 and array-two or three barrels of powder-two or I The circular towers which flank the northern front 
 three pieces of ordnance of twenty-thrce pounds, and ' are partlv concealed bv trees, which .seems to grow out 
 killed but one of my side, God be praised.' of the river, and which throw into shade lar^c inter- 
 
 Finally, however, it was taken by Lord Castlchaven, vale of the rockv base of the building these rem.rka- 
 m the year 1645. Major Power at that time defended ble objects, combined with the abrupt position of the 
 It with 100 01 the Earl of Cork's tenants, who, ac- , castle which is seen hanging over the dark and rapid 
 cording to Cox, before they surrendered killed 500 of, stream, compose a romantic and striking picture, which I 
 the beseigers, till all their powder being spent, they has scarcely ever been adequately represented The I 
 capitulated upon honorable terms. | fi^t door-wav is called the riding-house, from its being i 
 
 On the restoration of peace, the casile was again re-, originallv built to accommodate to horsemen, who 
 pmred and mhabited by the Boyle family until in IT.';.-), I mounted guarded, and for whose rerepiion there w.re ! 
 on the death of Richard,, third Earl of Burlington, and ^ two spaces which are still visible under ihe ar.hwav. I 
 fourth Earl of Cork, the most considerable part of that The riding-house is the entrance into a Ion- avenue 
 nobleman's estates, both in England and Ireland, de- shaded bv magniticent trees, and flanked wi.li high 
 volved upon his daughter. Lady Charlotte Boyle, who , stone walls ; this leads to another doorwav, the keep 
 married in 1,48, William Cavendish, fourth Duke of or grand entrance into the .quare of the ca'slle. Over 
 Devonshire, in the possession of whose descendant, the the gate are the arms of the first Earl of Cork, with ,he 
 present Duke, It now remains, l,y whom it has been motto, • Go-I's providence is our inheritance.' The 
 
 greatly restored and beautified, and made a truly 
 princely residence for the agent for his Grace's cstatca 
 in Ireland. 
 Among the distinguinhed persons who received hos 
 
 castle and its precincts were regularly fortified, and 
 covered a large space of ground, the bounds of which 
 may still lie traced by the existing walls and towers. 
 It is highly interesting to examine the various parts 
 
 pitahiy m Lismore Castle at different periods, may be ; of the defences so minutely and vividly represented in 
 noticed the Earl of Cb.rendon, who in his progress I the first Earl of Cork's .liary. ' My o'rchard,' and my 
 through Munster, m If.ss, passed a night hcre-King ; 'garden' and 'the turrets, which did so cominually 
 James II., who dined in it in 1689, and of whom it is, beat and clear the curtevn wall,' all art! rxiligiously 
 
 preser>-ed, and have been recently brought to view and 
 cleared of the obstructions which time and neglect had 
 accumulated about them. 
 
 The great square of the castle has rather an unfin- 
 ished appearance, ami, from the introduction of modern 
 doors and windows, ofl'enils against all the rules of un- 
 iformity and nrcbitcctural consistency. The sombre 
 appearance of the building around the square is admir- 
 ably contrasted with the interior of the castle. The 
 rooms arc fitted up with all the convenience of modem 
 improvement ; the doors are of Irish oak of great 
 thickness and bcnuty ; and the windows, composeil of 
 large squares of gliiss, each pane opening on hinges, 
 combine aceommodmions with harmony of appearance. 
 The drawing-rooms are ornamented with tapestry, and 
 contain some good oil paintings. One of the towers 
 is still retained in its rude and dilapidated state, serv- 
 ing as a contrast to the modern adornments, as well 
 as showing the great ingenuity and tasle which have 
 been di-playcd in combining the luxuries of the pres- 
 ent day with the romantic beauties of so ancient a 
 buil'ling. 
 
 An anecdote wliich is told of .Limes 11. who is said 
 to have visited the castle, and dined in the great room, 
 has given one of [ e windows the name of king James' 
 window. It is s.iid, that on looking out of this win- 
 dow, the monarch was so ^lruck at perceiving the vast 
 height at which he stood, and the rapiil river running 
 beneulh him. that he started back with evidentdismay. 
 To look unexpectedly upon the river immediately un- 
 der the apartment, is indeed a startling prospect, ami 
 might naturally excite surprise from the great depth of 
 the rear building coinparcd with the level ground at 
 the entrance. From King James' window, and more 
 particularly from the flat roof of the castle, the view is 
 magnificent and beautiful. The eye embraces a vast 
 extent of country', and receives the impression of a 
 splendid picture, realizing all the vivid coloring, and all 
 the variety and contrast, which the imagination of a 
 painter only conceives.' 
 
 Under the castle there is a very extensive salmon 
 fishey. P- 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 281 
 
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 morning. 
 
 'Dobsox.' Received. This seems a singular nom de 
 plume for an Irishman to adopt. It is the most Saxon like 
 name we have heard for a dozen years. We shall have to 
 'dissolve your soul in tears.' 
 
 'MoNoNiA,' shall appear in our next. 
 
 'Frank,' Providence, R.I. Many thanks. Y'our letter 
 shall appear in our next number. 
 
 'AN Irish Servant Girl.' We have received a letter 
 over this signature, in reference to an article upon 'Biddy- 
 Ism" which appeared some time ago in the Journal. We 
 had an article prepared in reply to the low-brctl slanders of 
 that paper upon this usefVil class of female domestics, but 
 the want of space compels us to omit it. Let our virtuous 
 countrywomen pay no attention to the sneers of the igno- 
 rant and the rude. There are but few 'Yankeees' in New 
 England who would employ an Irish servant girl, if their 
 own countrywomen could do the work. A Yankee servant 
 
 girl would soon be mistress of the house and take her mis- 
 tress' position, in more places than one. The American la- 
 dies know the virtue of our females, and that neither wealth 
 or frowns can tempt them from the strict moral path — 
 hence their preference for them. The article in the Journal 
 was not editorial; its editors would not have allowed the 
 insertion, we are sure, if they had seen it. How old was 
 the writer when his mother was married? 
 
 IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 BOSTON, SATURDAY, JUNE 12, 1858 
 
 THE RECENT BRITISH OUTRAGES. 
 
 The topic which continues most to absorb public atten- 
 iion, is the continued outrages committed by British cruiz- 
 ers upon American vessels. Our opinions upon this matter 
 are already well known to our readers, as we have twice 
 previously addressed them upon the subject, and in our last, 
 expressed our warm approval of the dignified and patriotic 
 stand taken by Senator Douglas, in vindication of the na- 
 tional honor. The wonderful unanimity pervading the 
 Senate, will astonish England. That country foolishly sup- 
 posed we were on the eve of a civil war on the question of 
 slavery, and that she had only to make an active anti sla- 
 very demonstration on the high seas, to secure the support 
 of the entire north, and north-west States. 
 
 A number ot vessels have been sent out in pursuit of the 
 British cruizers, but up to the time of this writing, we have 
 no report from them. What instructions the commanders 
 of these vessels have received, we cannot say, but hope they 
 are such as to ensure prompt redress. Should the 'Styx' or 
 'Buzzard' be met with by one of our national vessels, we 
 have some hope that justice will be done. If they escape, 
 then our hope of justice is gone; the matter will fall into 
 the hands of the British flunkey Dallas, reams of paper 
 and quantities of red tape will pass between the two gov- 
 ernments — England will express her 'regret' — the command- 
 ers of the Styx and Buzzard will be 'punished'— that is, 
 removed for a time, from their commands and afterwards 
 promoted — Lord Granville will aseure Mr. Dallas of his 
 'distinguished consideration' — the 'friendly relations' will 
 berestored— Mr, Dallas will make a 'no popery' speech at 
 the first bible meeting in Exeter Hall, and there the matter 
 rests. 
 
 Now, we confess, we have more faith in one of the pro- 
 fessional descendants of 'eaucy Jack Barry,' than we have 
 in all the red tape in Washington, and believe more in a 
 broadside from beneath the stars and stripes, than in all 
 the speeches in Congress. Let one of our sea captains but 
 come within gun shot of the Styx or Buzzard, provided he 
 has proper instructions, and the whole matter will be taken 
 out of the hands of diplomacy; peace will be impossible, — 
 the insults to our nation must be atoned for 'in the best 
 blood of the Briton.' 
 
 We are sorry to see in a portion of the press, a desire 
 that England will 'apologise' for these outrages, and 'back 
 out' of the position she has assumed. To be sure she will. 
 Lord Napier has sent instructions to the various British 
 Admirals on the coast and in the Gulf, to haul offthe guilty 
 vessels. If these instructions can be acted upon before a 
 collision takes place, England will apologise. She will de- 
 clare that her commanders totally misapprehended her in- 
 structions; she will order them, every one of them, home, 
 and affect to disgrace them. The rule in the British navy 
 is so strict, that no officer dare defend himself by falling 
 back upon his instructions. He must submit in silence, to 
 what he knows is wrong, and when the storm has blown 
 over, he will be rewarded for his submission by promotion 
 to a superior command. 
 
 Let us, however, sieze two or tliree English vessels, bring 
 them into one of our ports for trial ; if England repudiates 
 their doings, then we punish the guilty individuals. Should 
 she on the other hand, avow her instructions and adopt the 
 acta of each commander, then war is inevitable. America 
 cannot brook the insult, it must be resented, actively and 
 promptly; and the nation will cheerfully yield its treasure 
 and its blood in defence of its honor. 
 
 THE STATUE OF MOORE* 
 
 The engraving of the statue of Bloore, which we gave in 
 our last, in obedience to the wishes of many of our subscri- 
 bers, is a correct representation of the statue recently 
 erected in Dublin to the memory of Ireland's poet. We 
 gave it as it is. The design is the one adopted by a commit- 
 tee of artists, in preference to thatoflercd by llogan. Hav- 
 ing seen the one t'clected by the committee, our readers will 
 not wonder at the sensitiveness of Uogan, who took the 
 rejection of his design so much to heart, that it brought on 
 a severe attack of apoplexy, which so impaired his health 
 that he neverfully recovered, and his country now mourns 
 his untimely cud. 
 
 New Clotuimj,— I'ersons in want of new clothing 
 should read the advertisement of Smith & Co., in another 
 part of this paper, and give that popular liouse a call before 
 purchasing elsewhere. We can assure them they cannot 
 invest their money to better advantage. Their place is cor- 
 ner of Elm street and Dock fquare. 
 
 .PUBLICATIONS RECEIVED. 
 
 The Conaition of Women and Children among the Celtic, 
 Gothic, and other nations, by John McElheran, M K C S 
 E. With Illustrations designed and drawn on wood, by 
 the author. Boston : I'atrick Donahoe. 
 If we recollect rightly, the author of this work first be- 
 came known to the public, through a series of very able let- 
 ters addressed to the editor o! the London Times in defence 
 o( his countrymen, against the attacks of that malignant 
 sheet. Strange to say, the Times gave insertion for a time, 
 to those letters, and thus established the name and fame of 
 Dr. M'Elheran, not only as a patriotic Irishman, but a« one 
 of the most scientific writers of modern days upon the na- 
 tural history of the Imman race. 
 
 The work before us is divided into XYl chapters, com- 
 mencing with the natural history of man, and tracing the 
 condition of the family among various nations. He then 
 enters into a comparison of Celts and Saxons. Taking the 
 position of the wife and her child as the beet test of the 
 condition of a race of men in the scale of humanity and 
 civilization, he pursues the condition of the family through 
 the various races, and from indisputable authorities, chiefly 
 English, establishes the fact, that in the Celtic race only, 
 did woman occupy her true social position, and the fam- 
 ily exist free from that tyranny and degradation which 
 characterized it among the other races of the world, more 
 especially the Saxon. 
 
 The Celts, throughout the world are under weighty obli- 
 gations to the talented author of this work, for his scien- 
 tific defence of our ancient race, against the assaults ot the 
 Saxon, and every man free from the blood of an English 
 boor, should possess the work immediately. 
 
 OUR NEXT NUMBER. 
 
 The next number of the Miscellany for the week 
 ending Saturday, June 19th, will contain large and ac- 
 curate views of the Cily of Londonderry, the West Gate of 
 Derry, and Clontarl Castle— three engravings executed in 
 the highest style of art. Music— 'Sweet Girls of Eriu,' with 
 Piano Forte, accompaniment The usual variety of origi- 
 nal and selected matter will be presented and the number 
 will be a great one. Send in your orders at once. The 
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 sold by all periodical dealers and newsmen generally— at 
 only four cents a copy. 
 
 OUR PICTURE GALLERY, 
 
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 In addition to this great reduction of price, each member 
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 on this continent. 
 
 BACK NUMBERS. 
 
 Back numbers ot the Miscellany, from the commence- 
 ment of the paper, may be procured through any of our 
 regular agents, or by sending direct to the office of publi- 
 cation. No. 4 Water street, Boston. Will our friends in 
 want bear this fact in mind? 
 
 Nos. 4 AMD 5.— Owing to the great demand for the earlier 
 numbers of our paper, we have entirely exhausted all our 
 Nos. 4 and 6. We shall, as soon as we can complete tho 
 necessary arrangements, issue extra editions, and our 
 numerous fricndH can rest assured that their wanta will be 
 supplied at the curliest possible moment. 
 
 \C/^ Our Traveling Agent, Mr. James Doyle, will be in 
 Khode Island this week, ijn business for the Miscellany. 
 
282 
 
 HUSH MISCELLANY. 
 
 Wrillm f.ir llic Ml.c.lluuy 
 THE GOOD PASTOR AND HIS WIFE. 
 
 DT TOLAHD. 
 
 Il»tl, dawn of Aurora: the clmrlot of morning, 
 
 Thy orieiu aovvrvicu rmlica fK>iu bis tbrouc, 
 Willi ruilieut cII'uIkcucc dauiu uiiturv Hdorniug— 
 
 Wliosc iuceune n.^cvntlctli tow'nls hoavinis brixlit dumci 
 Aroustd from the soft, bulniy lufliivncc ol Moiiihi-u», 
 
 My humble orisons shall Hoar to tlicvky 
 lu unlhfui" harmoncuB and Bwii'tor tlmu OrphiMiJi— 
 
 C'oujoiutd with my bride we will praiic (he Most High. 
 
 In a circle of love with her »ifter«' array'd in 
 
 Clmntc robes, and bedeck'd with the fiiirest of flowem, 
 My wife i» the ccntn>, niiOe.itical maiden! 
 
 Who cheers and consoles me in all my lone hours; 
 Most amiable consort still jieerlessly shinin);. 
 
 More briRhl than the sun in meridian pride. 
 How sweetly tby inlluence Renlly entninlu)? 
 
 Around those dear orphans bereft of their fiuide. 
 
 Thy exquisite beauty's celestial reflection 
 
 SubHues and endears the most obdurate heart, 
 Thy heaven born zeal— thy maternal ad'ection 
 
 For those of thy children shall never depart. 
 Humility's handmaid and teacher of sages, 
 
 How ardent thy love for thy juvenile son. 
 How faithful thy pllghtstothy spouse through dark ages, 
 
 Kmbalmcd in thy tears, thou art still fresh and young. 
 
 The prodigal truant who roams from thy pasture 
 
 Is fed upon husks, in a strange barren clime; 
 How fondly again thou'lt embrace him, alma mater. 
 
 When seeking thy arms, n-iieutaut of crime. 
 Heaven's complex expanse embellish'd with martyrs 
 
 Whose thirst has been <iuench'd from channels of grace, 
 Celestial praise and due homage impart her 
 
 From thrones where her beauty encircles all space. 
 
 Then sweet virgin consort, divine consolation — 
 
 I tender thee homage, obedience and love ; 
 Though scourged and imprisoned in every nation 
 
 Thou laugh'ft at thy foes from realms above. 
 Dethroned rebel chief, sip the gall of your chalice, 
 
 The plan of redemption thy cunning despise— 
 The l.ady Elect has triumphed o'er thy malice 
 
 And fills up the void you had left in the skies. 
 
 • Faith and hope. 
 
 The people's you plundered must weep for yuurfall, 
 lly gorrah : the Irish will cry worst of all ; 
 C'onfesA it I must, wid small grief on my brow, 
 Ko nation on earth cares one llg loryou now. 
 
 Keep an eye to Napoleon, for I will go bail. 
 
 He will go for a blessing to l>r. Slcllale; 
 
 And then lake a ramble the green Island o'er. 
 
 To sec your mild rule there in blooming tiweedore. 
 
 Wid his long boarded Frenchmen, the devil knows 
 
 what 
 He may do for the landlords, sokind to poor I'ats! 
 IVrhaps sweep the Stale Church from sweet Donegal, 
 With its sonpers, fat parsons, tithe jiroelors and all. 
 
 It you get in a hobble, by gorrah'. I think 
 You will have the good manners to give ns a wink ; 
 We owe you a debt, and our clergy do suy 
 That when we are able. Just debts we should pay. 
 
 N'abocklish old friend, we will lend you a hand. 
 And square up old scores in our dear native laud — 
 The principal all, with good interest too; 
 Lord send us a chance soon, to settle with you! 
 
 IRISH 
 
 Here is our old friend 'Darby the Blast,' whose visage we 
 have made so often welcome. Darby is a bit of a wag, and 
 thus vents his waggery upon .John Bull, whole forlorn 
 condition he seems to have much sympathy for.— Ed. M. 
 
 Written forthc Miscellany. 
 PADDY'S LAMENT FOR JOHN BULL. 
 
 BY DARBY M C K E O N . 
 
 Musha, Mr. John but it grieves me to hear, 
 
 "i'ou've a rogue ol a troublesome naybor so near; 
 
 So mighty provokin' wid his army purradcs. 
 
 And the devil of it all, counts his prayers on the beads. 
 
 Fal.x I'm tould he he's passing his min in review. 
 And lighting sham battles so near Waterloo — 
 Had luck be far from him, the vile popish knave. 
 But he's full of his fun, and the Duke's in liis grave. 
 
 I thought when you last did the Bourbon re.More, 
 And by bribe-y and fraud sleep'd France in her gore, 
 AVhen the old iron Duke and cut-throat Castlercagh 
 Through (irouchy's deception, for you gained the day; 
 
 When you plundered her bosom, and chained her 
 
 loved chief 
 To that rock in the ocean, to die in sad grief,— 
 That your nod was supreme on the sea and the shore, 
 That no Bony could reign there in France any more. 
 
 Proud robber on land, greatest pirate on sea, 
 Mou sin dhoul, what a stand you made in the Crimea! 
 Despised by the Russian, and nursed by the French, 
 Your proud Saxon valor oozed out in a trench. 
 
 At Balaklava, where 'black bottle'* ran. 
 Together with your victory at the Kcdan, 
 "Where proud Albion's power was tumbled pell mcU 
 Down from the ramparts to "Connaught or hell.' 
 
 Since that wid grief, I perceive it quite plain. 
 The power ol your Saxonship's quite on the wane. 
 The Brute you boasted you'd wliip the world through 
 Is now fondly caressed by Johnny Crapeau. 
 
 • Lord Cardigan is charged with running away when the 
 Light Brigade was going to that fatal charge, by a British 
 officer. 
 
 Written for the Miscellany. 
 'THE MILITARY ELEMENT IN THE 
 CHARACTER.' 
 
 ILLUSTItATKD FROM UIBTOUV. 
 
 Part 4. 
 The surprise of the city of Cremona, by the allied 
 armies, under Prince . Eugene, proved tlie capacity of 
 the Irish for street fighting, their unflinching courage in 
 moments of danger, and their vvondcrfnl jjowers of en- 
 durance, as well as their individual valor; all of whicli 
 qualities were remarkably displayed in this almost un- 
 paralleled conflict. 
 
 Never did soldiers fight under more adverse circum- 
 stances. Startled from their sleep at the dead of night, 
 when they supposed that they were resting in perfect 
 security — clothed only in their shirts, under a frosty 
 sky — in darkness— without order — not knowing friend 
 from foe, and deserted by the French portion of the 
 garrison, who were caught in the midstofiheir drunken 
 orgies and made no resistance to the troops of Eu- 
 gene who had entered the city by an accjucduct, the 
 Irish troops stationed at the Po gate fought manfully 
 against the besiegers for ten hours. They met with- 
 out dismay llie charge of the enemy's cavalry in the 
 dark, narrow streets; maintained the ramparts in the 
 face of an overwhelming force; and, though all the 
 city, except their own quarter was actually in posses- 
 sion of the enemy they kept their ground so obstinate- 
 ly and showed so gallant a resistance that the allied 
 troops were afraid to risk the chance of a contest in 
 broad daylight with so desperate a foe and they re- 
 treated from the town as they entered it, by the acque- 
 duct, or more properly by a common sewer, for the 
 surprise of the city of Cremona was cfl"caed through 
 that channel. But they left the city with the loss of 
 two thousand men, and their bravest orticers. 
 
 Examples of Irish valor might be multiplied a hun. 
 dred fold from the pages of European history, if the 
 character of these articles would warrant us in pursu- 
 ing the subject, or if it was necessary to enter into 
 more minute details, in order to establish the assertion 
 with which we set forth, that the military element was 
 predominant in the Irish character. 
 
 Long after the glorious achievements of the Irish 
 Brigade had wrought such changes in the destinies of 
 Europe, but while the memory of their services were 
 slill unforgotten, in France at least, the Irish people — 
 always true to their instincts, attempted to free them- 
 selves from the foreign yoke which oppressed llicm as 
 insaflTerably as in Sursficld's time, relying too unfor- 
 tunately upon the French <i!d for the successful accom- 
 plishment of their designs. 
 
 The Wexford campaign of '93 is too familiar a 
 slory to need elaborate illustration. The victories of 
 Onlart Hill, Gorcy and Koss; nay, the very defects at 
 Arklow and Ballynahinch prove what desperate feats 
 of valor a determined people can accomplish, fighting 
 on their own soil, and afier their own fashion. Witli- 
 
 British power in Ireland. At that last sad fight on 
 Vinegar Hill what Spartan fortitude the people exhib- 
 ited under a deadly (ire of grape shot and shells — with- 
 out a charge of powder in their pouches to return a 
 shut — and answering buck the thunilcr of the Uriiisli 
 arlillcry only with gallant shouts of deliancc! Surely 
 the daring braverj- which at Fontenoy sent llie picked 
 squadrons of England battered and reeling down the 
 hill, through dying heaps and over trampled flags, is 
 not more worthy of admiration than the cool courage 
 which can stand in an emergency a galling fire, and 
 neither flinch nor precipitate the moment of action by 
 a rash impetuosity. 
 
 Wherever the sword flaslicd or the artillery waved 
 — no matter on what battle-field, or under what ban- 
 ner—in the front rank ever stood the Irishman; the 
 first in every charge, the coolest in every danger. In 
 the annals of every modern nation some Irish soldier's 
 name emblazons the page. Scattered through the 
 English chronicles, savs O'Connor, we find sad proof 
 that the Irish served the aggressions of the Edwards 
 on Wales and Scotland; that their blood rained on 
 the Red and the White Koses, and under the flag of 
 the Tudor kings they distinguished themselves in 
 France. At the close of Hugh O'Ncil's war, Spain 
 received her first recruits from Ireland, and ever after 
 sought them eagerly. During the wars of the Com- 
 monwealth the Irish served the Stuarts in England, in 
 Scotland, as well as in Ireland. A division of Straf- 
 ford's Irish army garrisoned Carlisle, and so eflicient 
 were they that the Republicans proclaimed that the 
 Irish soldiers captured in England or at sea should re- 
 ceive no quarter. The strength of Montrose's army 
 in 1644— 6 consisted of 1500 Antrim Irish in three 
 regiments, under Alister McDonald (the Colkitto of 
 Milton,) and their steady fire won his chief balilis. 
 Marshal Browne, the conqueror of Frederick of Prus- 
 sia, and Marshal Lacy, the organizer of the Russian 
 army and conqueror of the Crimea, were both Irish- 
 men. The Pennsylvania line, AVashington's surest 
 troops during the American war of Independence were 
 five-sixlhs Irish, and in a native of Donegal (Mont- 
 gomery) the young republic found her second general. 
 Nor need England complain of the services of Ireland 
 to her enemies. Throughout the war. with Napoleon, 
 from Assnye to Waterloo the Irish battalions main- 
 tained their name and her flag, and high in services 
 and renown, above all her generals who ever drew 
 sword in her name, was the Irishman Cthough an un- 
 worthy one,) Arthur Wellesley. 
 
 And may we not add lo the scenes of their renown 
 the battlefields of Mexico! Shall we not point to the 
 Irish citizen soldiery of this county as the best con- 
 servators of the law, the most obedient in peace, and 
 the bravest in war, when the honor of the Republic 
 is in danger. 
 
 But we fancy that we hear the critics say, what is 
 the value of all this talk! There is no moral in it; we 
 have heard it all before; we are filled to repletion with 
 this 'egotistical arrogance'— that is the favorite phrase 
 applied now to the Irishman who presumes to speak 
 of the ancient glories of his country or cherishes 
 a hope for her freedom. But, wc answer, there is a 
 moral in it, ond a right good one too. It is this, that 
 the people who, generation after generation, have 
 borne the standards of every nation in Europe to vic- 
 tory — whose coolness in moments of danger is prover- 
 bial — who have saved the honor of so many kingdoms 
 in desperate emergcn(*;s must he, and are, able to do 
 as much for themselves. And they may, perchance, 
 at no distant day clear off" the soil of Ireland the lo- 
 custs who now devour the fat of the land, as their 
 forefathers of Clontarf drove the Dane into the sea, 
 and the enemies of France from the plains of Flanders; 
 they may, even in our time and generaiion accomplish 
 this, and claim the country for themselves. What a 
 glorious consummation! The time has been when the 
 hopes of the nation were higher, and the prospects 
 no brighter ihan at present. What with the Indian 
 difficulty, which, even in its most favorable aspect for 
 
 out arms, ammunition or officers, the peasantn,' of that 
 
 one county of Wicklow kept the British army at defi- ' thi; British arms, promises no lengthened tenure to 
 
 auce, and seriously imperilled the very existence of ' British supremacy in Uindoostan, and the threatened 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 283 
 
 riipturo with their French ally, and the hostile posi- 
 tion in which the recent ontrnRes on the American flag 
 hiis placed our own coiiniry, England is menaced 
 just at this moment more seriously than when she 
 coped with the Russians in the Crimea, and we iinow 
 that it is not only on her difliculty iiut her destruction 
 that the opportunity of Ireland hangs. 
 
 Think of it, ye who in your fresh hoyhood sported 
 in the daisy-spangled meadows of Ireland; who shared 
 as fair a dream as ever shepherd did in old Arcadia, 
 beside the silvery streams of Innisfail, upon whoso 
 waters fell the shadows of her ancient churches; — her 
 own when their Sabbath chimes awakened to prayer a 
 nation of saints — when the cross which glittered on 
 their turrets was more respected than the ledger and 
 the waste-book — think of it, ye who in the genial south 
 wooed and won the fondest treasure of your lives upon 
 the banks of the Suir, the Shannon and the Lee, wan- 
 dered in the fairy realms of arbutus-clad Killarney, 
 where the eagle rules on Mangerton, and the red deer 
 treads the heather of the Tomies; in glorious Glenga- 
 riff, in whose soft embrace the fretted waves of the 
 Atlantic are soothed Into a calm and placid lake; ye 
 who often breasted the surf that beats the rugged 
 coasts of Donegal and Antrim, where Nature in her 
 fiercest aspect is still most (;rand; — think of it, ye 
 whose kindred gorge the famine graves from Skibbe- 
 recn to Connaught — think of the day when Nemesis 
 shall be the sole goddess worshipped in Ireland, and 
 cheered by her presence, we shall pull down that rob- 
 ber flag — the symbol, wherever it floats, of cruelty and 
 fraud, and leave no vestige of it within the four seas 
 that girdle Ireland! And why not? 
 Sure 'twas for this Lord Edward died aud Wolfe Tone 
 
 sank serene, 
 Because they could not bear to leave the Ited above the 
 
 Green; 
 And 'twas for this that Oweu fought and Sarstield nobly 
 
 bled, 
 Because their eyes were hot to see the Green above the 
 
 Ked. 
 
 And 'tis for this we think and toil and knowledge strive to 
 
 glean — 
 That we may pull the English Red below the Irish Green, 
 And leave our sons sweet liberty, and smiling plenty shed 
 Upon the land once dark with blood — the Green above the 
 
 Red. 
 And have we not hope that even in our own day 
 we may see once more tested on their own soil, the 
 military element in the Irish character? 
 
 CORRESPONDENCE. 
 
 DuDLiN, May 21st, 1858. 
 My Pear Miscellany: — 
 
 Your very excellent little sheet, and not so little 
 either, when opened out in full, comes regularly to 
 hand. I am delighted with its contents, although I 
 candidly tell you there is much room for improvement. 
 However, ray dear fellows, console yourselves with 
 the idea that 'Rome was not built in a day;' — verj' 
 common saying that — almost a vulgarism — but trite 
 and true. You cannot expect to have the Miscellany 
 all you wish it to be at once. I have had some expe- 
 rience in newspaper and literary productions, and am 
 well aware of the desire publishers and editors feel to 
 have everything as correct and perfect as possible, and 
 well know the vexation and pain at noticing the er- 
 rors, mistakes, neglects, bad paper, bad press-work, 
 &c., which they too often experience on taking their 
 bantling into their hands. 
 
 I am glad to hear that you arc well sustained by the 
 public — that you are now perfectly safe. That is one 
 load of care and anxiety from your mind. You must 
 now place it beyond the possibility of any future con- 
 tingency. To do this, keep improving in matter. 
 You have a host of talent in yourselves, but you must 
 bring in that of others. After a time, an editor, or 
 several editors, cease to produce anything new; they 
 only reproduce themselves. The mind, like land, re- 
 quires rest as well as cultivation. Go ahead. I see 
 clearly that your publication will become a perfect suc- 
 cess! 
 
 Fresh news from India! More victories and so forth. 
 That is, if wo are to believe the telegrams of govern- 
 ment. These telegrams seldom tcU the truth, and often 
 'cut up' strange capers with the blessed English of her 
 gracious majesty. For instance, in a conflict with the 
 Sepoys a whole British regiment was 'cut up,' but the 
 telegram said the regiment had been 'shut up.' A 
 material ditrerencc truly. 
 
 The truth is, England's power in India was 
 never in a worse position than at the present moment 
 notwithstanding the great victory of Sir Colin at 
 Lucknow. I told you in one of my former letters that 
 the 'victory' would prove a defeat. I am right; the 
 fact is now conceded. It is admitted by all that in a 
 military point of view the capture of Lucknow was a 
 mistake, that it may prove the destruction of the splen- 
 did army of Sir Colin Campbell. 
 
 Lucknow is the capital of Oude, so lately annexed 
 to the British possessions in India. As it is 'the last 
 hair which breaks the camel's back,' so this last act of 
 British rapine and plunder in India, has brought on 
 the present state of things in that unfortunate country. 
 It was considered of the last importance to secure pos- 
 session of Lucknow; it was supposed its political ef- 
 fect upon a 'rebellious' kingdom must prove highly 
 beneficial. Accordingly, the commander-in-chief was 
 ordered to capture it at all hazards; he has done so; its 
 eflfect has been 'nil;' its gallant defenders most gallant- 
 ly marched out, and eight thousand British troops arc 
 now required to garrison it. Sir Colin is censured by 
 all parties, because he did not capture the whole of 
 the Sepoys defending it. This would have taken an 
 army twice as numerous as his, and, besides, from the 
 peculiar position of Lucknow, it was impossible to 
 accomplish. The censures cast upon the commander- 
 in-chief are something like the fable of the mice in coun- 
 cil. If they could only 'beU the cat,' then they could 
 practice upon Dame Dudgeon's cheese with impunity 
 If Sir Colin had only captured all the Sepoys in Luck- 
 now, what a glorious thing it would have beeni 
 
 Sir Colin's health is failing. He now comprehends 
 the difficulty of his position and sees his future with 
 despair. He has become morose and petulent in 
 temper. His most intimate friends are fearful of 
 speaking to him, and he calls loudly upon the home 
 government for more reinforcements. The summer's 
 sun is now shedding his terrible rays upon the unfor- 
 tunate army; a campaign before October next will 
 destroy the British forces. 
 
 The season which enervates and destroys the 
 European, gives strength and elasticity to the Hin- 
 doo. He knows that now is his time. He has 
 waited for it, aud you may depend he will take ad- 
 vantage of his glorious season. Allah! May God 
 defend the Sepoy. 
 
 We have a fearful political contest going on in 
 Limerick for the honor (?) of representing that city 
 in the foreign parliament. Major Gavin was un- 
 seated for bribery, and his former opponent, Mr. 
 Ball, a Sadlierite Whig Catholic, is in the field op- 
 posed to a good liberal Protestant. Mr. Ball is a 
 Whig, nothing more, and while he prates about 'in- 
 dependent opposition,' 'tenant right,' &c., he wishes 
 only to make the necks of the voters of Limerick a 
 stepping stone to ofKce. Although a Catholic, he 
 is ready, like nis confrere Fitzgerald, the Catholic 
 Attorney General, to prosecute every priest in the 
 country, at the bidding of his ^\^lig masters. The 
 Catholic Bishop of the diocese, who has not hither- 
 to interfered in polities, is out with a letter in favor 
 of this Irish traitor. On the other hand, several of 
 the parish priests of the rural districts, have issued 
 an address repudiating the bishop's dictation, and 
 call upon the people to stand true to their country 
 and reject the base Whig. The contest is growing 
 fearful, and lives may be lost. There are rumors 
 that Ball will retire from the struggle; I am afraid 
 he will not. Long before you receive this, the con- 
 test will be over. I hope the brutal Whigs will be 
 taught a lesson that the 'priest hunters' and their 
 candidate Ball, may not soon forget. 
 
 We have had a fearful storm along portions of 
 our seaboard, and many lives are reported as lost. 
 The weather is charming. Oh, it is delightful to 
 rise with the sun these glorious May mornings, and 
 stroll into the Park and hoar the black bird, and 
 thrush and linnet, sending forth their morning car- 
 ols, 
 
 I have no 'Irish news' to send to you unless I 
 should fill your pages with reports of 'aggrarian 
 outrages,' tales of blood and other matters of the 
 like. I am glad to sec that you do not prepare a 
 weekly feast of this garbage to spread before your 
 readers. If Irish-American readers must have 
 'Irish news,' I will not make a show of my unfor- 
 tunate countrymen by placing their vices and 
 their follies (the consequences of oppression) be- 
 fore a strange people. If this must be done, leave 
 it to our Sa.^on enemy, who for ages has been striv- 
 ing to make us the scorn of the world. 
 
 Smith O'Brien's ninth address is out. 1 shall 
 have something to say upon these addresses in a 
 future letter. 
 
 AVONDHU. 
 
 From the Dublin Celtic Union. 
 RELICS OF OLD READINGS AND COSSIPI NCS. 
 
 NEW SEKIE8 — NO. 2. 
 
 The Chapel at Kilbenny. 
 The Chapel at Kilbenny stood on a slight declivi- 
 ty of one of the many undulating hills and valleys 
 gradually approaching the mighty Galtees. It was 
 a little rustic building in the lorm of a Cross, and 
 was so situated as to be seen from every point of 
 the compass. On one side it was sheltered by a 
 thick grove of young fir trees — on the other, by a 
 high double ditch, crowned by dense clumps of 
 broad yellow furze, under which ran a rapid stream 
 that made its way through a tract of soft and heal- 
 thy bog-land. The unpretending house of God 
 was covered by a thatch of straw and fir branches, 
 on its outside — and the boles of the same trees act- 
 ed as pillars within — the altar was primitive, and 
 merely covered by a white cloth — and behind it, 
 the vestrv boasted of a little fire place, a shelf, 
 which supported a bowl and spoon, from which the 
 good old pastor breakfasted on Sundays — for his 
 parish was large and he had a long way to come. 
 The neighbors contended who should supply him 
 with his quantum of fresh new milk in the summer 
 — or light his fire in the winter, to boil his eggs, 
 and have his meal hot and comfortable, when the 
 Mass was over; the fir trees again doing duty in the 
 matter of fuel, as well as their many other services. 
 It was on a Sunday morning, that all thr folk in 
 the neighborhood and from all parts of the sur- 
 rounding district were assembled, attending the 
 holy mysteries. 
 
 The Chapel was crowded, the old people occupy- 
 ing the place nearest to the rails of the sanctuary — 
 the men, with their snow-white heads bow ing down 
 in mock reverence — the matrons, in adoring silence, 
 clothed in their wide, long mantles — with their 
 hair bound up in large red kerchiefs, the ends of 
 which hung down loosely behind them. 
 
 The younger portion o( the population occupied the 
 middle of the building — young men and women — 
 whilst behind them knelt the married generation, with 
 their young offspring, whom they endeavored to keep 
 in order by many .and seasonable admonitions, as they, 
 time after time, stopped their devotion to look after 
 their proceedings. One little urchin caused his moth- 
 er very many distractions, by his marked admiration 
 of the evolutions of a swallow, which was eddying 
 about the roof, and in a thousand noiseless flights, 
 visiting every nook and crevice that might jjossibly 
 afford a site for his projected nest-building. The child 
 might bo eight or nine years old, with black straight 
 hair hanging down on his shoulders, cheeks brown aud 
 ruddy, with rude health and mountain ramblings, eyes 
 black as coals, and large, liiiuid and lustrous. Whilst 
 
284 
 
 IRISH MISCELLAISY. 
 
 unilcr the immcdialo stirvoillanco of his Kimrdian, his 
 littlo hands wcru piously joined iind raised in scorning 
 prayer — hut thi> moment her attention was called 
 awav, and her beads resumed, those innocent lar^e 
 orbs nent once more in search of the headlong lli(;ht 
 of tho bird, and were lit up with joy and admiration at 
 its many feats of investigation. A look from the 
 (jentle peasant mother soon again fixed his wandering 
 gaze, and an appealing whisper into his ear, entirely 
 subdued him; ho looked up straight into that kind and 
 benevolent face that never wore anything but a smile 
 for him — tho tears rose in his eyes, and the obedient 
 boy set in earnest about saying his little slock of the 
 prayers of childhood, only looking now ami then for 
 another approving glance — for another commending 
 smile, as a reward for his ready and willing compli- 
 ance. 
 
 The mass was over — and tho venerable pastor, 
 father Michael Maher, was just uttering solemnly, 
 and with raised «rins, the' Benedicat vos, Omnipotens 
 Deus,' when a woman rushed wildly into the chapel, 
 crying out at the top of her vcici — 
 
 •Father Michael! Father Michael! tho Wolf is out- 
 side — his troopers arc lopping the trees and hacking 
 tho furie-bushes, to set fire to the roof over your 
 head!' 
 
 The men sprang to their feet — the women screamed. 
 
 'My people — my people — my own people!' implored 
 
 tho priest, in a loud, impassioned voice, 'hear me — 
 
 hear God's minister, and your old guide, before you 
 
 move a foot from this sacred house' 
 
 Tho men stood still. 
 
 'God bless ye," cried ont the grateful priest, 'God 
 bless yc! now I will go myself and remonstrate with 
 these violent intruders.' 
 
 'They'll hurt you, Father Michael, remonstrated 
 many of his flock. 'They'll hurt you if we are not by 
 your side.' 
 
 'God Almighty will be by my side, and between 
 them and me,' devoutly replied the fearless priest. 
 
 He then hid the chalice in a secret part of the wall, 
 made for the purpose, (a necessary precaution in those 
 Srtcriligious times,) and solemnly walking down from 
 the altar, proceeded along amongst his flock, and 
 lirmly strode out into the open air, holding a small 
 wooden crucifix raised in his hand. 
 
 In the meantime, a very signilicant movement was 
 made by tho peasantry; one body of men rushed to 
 the door leading from the chapel by the vestry, there 
 they stood watching narrowly the result of tho mission 
 ol their beloved pastor, and determined to be ready to 
 aid him if there was need — another body of men stood 
 within the larger doorwoy, armed with heavy sticks, 
 and resolved to attack the troopers, if necessary, be- 
 fore they could get on their horses; each woman stood 
 close behind her husband, and would not leave her 
 position for ony enireay; poor faithful women, ihey 
 thought that if thete should be n bloody battle, that 
 they might shield their husband's bodies with their 
 own. 
 
 The children were all placed on the altar-steps, 
 and the old men congregated about the immediate 
 vicinity of the front door, with the positive order, 
 not to let the enemy close it when the fray began. 
 This order at once will show the reader what man- 
 ner of ra<>n these red-coated military heroes were, 
 ■when the peasantry were convinced they would shut 
 up as many men, women, and children, as thej" could, 
 and set fire to the building to consume all together. 
 Hence, the order to the old men was absolutely 
 necessary. 
 
 Let us now accompany Father Maher on his per- 
 ilous enterprise, and see how the Minister of the 
 Lord confronted the emissaries of the devil. 
 
 About forty soldiers were busily engaged drag- 
 ging furze and branches of trees towards the chapel. 
 
 stant, • Hn ! ha !' laughed the wolf of the Qaltecs ; 
 
 • is the old fox unearthed already ?' 
 
 ' Karl of Kingston !' exclaimed the holy and ven- 
 erable man, ' Karl of Kingston ! I adjure you in 
 the name of the living (iod, not to desecrate this 
 ^acre(l Sabbath morning with murder and sacri- 
 lege!' 
 
 Here, the little boy already described in the chap- 
 el, stepped quietly out, and stood between the two 
 speakers, looking at each curiously and alternately. 
 
 ' How dare you impose your commands upon me, 
 Father Dotard,' retorted the wolf, reddening with 
 rising anger. 
 
 * I dare say anything in the name of God, and un- 
 der the shadow of his Holy Cross,' replied the priest 
 steadily. 
 
 •I dare do more,' he continued, advancing to- 
 wards the hardened soldier. 
 
 ' At him, l.ion,' cried the Karl, 'at him !' 
 
 A huge black dog bounded from an\ongst the 
 hor.sos, and standing with head erect and blazing 
 eyes, looked about for his victim. Some of the men 
 at the vestry door stepped out to be in time, but the 
 little boy slid gently up to the excited animal, and 
 put his two tiny arms around his horrid shaggy 
 neck. The brute acknowledged the kindness by 
 lowering his head and wagging his tail. 
 
 The Karl foamed, and putting spurs to his horse, 
 rode up, calling fiercely to the dog to come to him. 
 
 15ut the noble brute crouched only closer to the 
 child, who patted his great head, and fondled him 
 the more kindly. 
 
 • Here, Lion,' now fairly roared out his exasper- 
 ated master ; the dog loosened himself away reluc- 
 tantly from the arms that still embraced him, and 
 crawling towards the horse's feet, seemed to look up 
 to the rider for pardon. But the wolf never pardon- 
 ed, and had no mercy ; he drew a pistol and fired 
 the contents of it into the crouching animal's body , 
 he then drew a second pistol, but before he could 
 make any use of it, there was a cry from the chapel. 
 
 ' Tnko my knightly honor,' said he, scomfully, 
 * that no use shall be made of the weapons against 
 ye.' 
 
 ' My children,' said Father Mather, addressing 
 the people in turn, 'never mind the knightly honor 
 of a man who would burn to death both you and 
 me, in one merciless tlamc in our poor ehapel yon- 
 der.' 
 
 A shout of denial and defiance followed this second 
 and most palatable recommendation. 
 
 'Go on. Sir Eiirl,' commanded the priest sternly, 
 'and repent of your crimes and pride while there is 
 yet time. We forgive you, and may God forgive 
 you your meditated massacre this blessed Sabbath 
 morning.' 
 
 ' Forward !' cried the wolf savagely, to his men, 
 ' forward !' and as they spurred after their lord and 
 master, the poor mangled dog attempted to follow- 
 also ; he succedcd in reaching the Karl's boot with 
 a feeble bound, but he poured over it a mouthful of 
 his heart's blood. The sight seemed to touch even 
 that crudest of men, and as the dying animal fell 
 back, and tumbled under his horse's feet in his last 
 agony : 
 
 < I'oor Lion,' he muttered, as he bent down for an 
 instant, and saw him expire with a single convulsive 
 shudder. 
 
 Yes, even that wolfish heart succumbed to a feel- 
 ing of human nature, although but for a brute beast. 
 Thus, history tells us, that some solitary hand 
 strewed flowers upon the grave of Xero. 
 
 It was not, however, in accordance with his habit, 
 that the haughty and intolerant carl should return 
 to his castle, without satisfying to some extent, at 
 least, the innate cruelty of his disposition. Ac- 
 cordingly, as he and his men rode furiously through 
 the country, exasperated at their late defeat, and 
 thirsting for vengeance on somebody or anybody, 
 or anything, to allay the fever of their baffled mal- 
 ice. They set fire to hay and haggard, to roof- 
 trees and corn-stacks — they hacked the cattle, and 
 
 Draw in Father Michael amongst ye !' ' Take care piu-.sucd their flying owners — .and in fine, pcrjjo 
 
 of the child !' 
 
 'To horse ! to horse !' roorcd Kingston. 
 It was too late, about twenty stalworth peasants 
 had already sprang forward, and getting between 
 the industrious furze-draggers and their horses, 
 quickly overwhelmed the men who held them, and 
 possessed themselves of all the holster pistols, and 
 the short carbines which were stacked upon the 
 ground. Then taking their stand behind the ani- 
 mals they quietly waited the further proceedings of 
 the enemy. 
 
 The wolf was thunderstricken ; his men had now 
 but their swords, which they had been using in cut- 
 ting down the furze to set fire to the chapel. 
 
 To add to his discomfiture, the now confidentpeas- 
 antry heard his order, ' To horse,' and replied to it 
 by a loud laugh. 
 
 Father Maher again appeared as a peacemaker. 
 ' Give them their horses, boys,' he said, ' and let 
 them go their ways ; we arc not going to follow 
 their example, either in plundering or murdering, 
 give them their horses, they cannot harm us now, 
 and for heaven's sake let us be quit of them.' 
 
 ' Father Michael, they do not deserve it from us, 
 nor a less thing.' 
 
 ' Xo matter now, my good friends, let_ them go, 
 let them go, for God's sake, for my sake.' 
 
 With a bad grace, and not without much grum- 
 bling, the people relinquished the horses j and the 
 crest fallen soldiers quickly remounted, and sate 
 in their saddles, awaiting the commands of their 
 leader. 
 
 ' Let my men have their arms, now, Sir Priest," 
 
 Some of the troopers held the horses of thees mcrci- I demanded the Earl. 
 
 fid workmen, in the shade of the fir-grove, whilst | ' IIoW the arms for your lives,' exclaimed Father 
 
 the wolf him.self, sitting quietly in his saddle, su- | * ,,'^* , , , „ ..c„j ;„„„„„„„ f„ii„,..„,i 
 
 ' " ' - A loud cheer of gratinea acquiescence loUoweu 
 
 ponntended the whole operations. this wholesome advice, at which the wolf writhed 
 
 The priest advanced, and caught his eye in an in- ] with impotent rage. 
 
 trated any outrage that chance put in their way, or 
 that their too retentive memories dictated to them. 
 They were the rulers of the land — the rulers and the 
 law-givers! 
 
 T'nfortunatcly, in their furious headlong course, 
 they came up w ith a travelling peasant who wa.s 
 journeying from one part of the country to the 
 other. He was instantly stopped, questioned and 
 assaulted. The man's name was John Galwey — an 
 Irishman and a Celt to the back bone. He knew 
 the intolerant despots he had to deal with, and that 
 he had no mercy to expect at their hands. Accord- 
 ingly, his demeanor was firm and resolute, and 
 neither insult nor violence could exact from him 
 that slavish whine of terror and cowardice which 
 his persecutors expected their presence should in- 
 spire. 
 
 After rifling his person for a long time in search 
 of some testimony of crime or treason — as luck 
 should have it, one of the party found a paper con- 
 cealed in his hat — a shout of triumph announced 
 the discovery, and the document was forthwith pre- 
 sented to the carl. The gallant commander, how- 
 ever, was no scholar — at least he was not able to 
 make any hand of the Iniportant manuscript. The 
 sergeant of the band thought it was Greek. An 
 old drummer who had served in the line, and was 
 for a number of years on foreign service, pro- 
 nounced it to be French — that was enough. Of 
 course it was rank treason, and the wolf ordered 
 the prisoner, off-hand, to be flogged to death. 
 From a neighboring farm-yard a horse and car was 
 at once procured, and the man strapped thereto by 
 the belts of the yeomanry; but now there occurred 
 a little difficulty — the cats were wanting. That 
 very necessary implement of torture was for once 
 forgotten in the outfit of the morning — an unusual 
 oversight. 'Break down some of the boughs from 
 
HUSH MISCELLANY. 
 
 285 
 
 thut tree yonder, and scourge him with them,' cried 
 the wolf. 
 
 'It is im elder tree, my lord.' 
 
 'Well, Judas, they sny, liiinged himself from such 
 a one, the better then it is to Hog a rebel.' 
 
 Accordingly they pulled the boughs, and having 
 stripped their victim, commenced the work of tor- 
 ture in right down earnest. One of the party driv- 
 ing the horse along, whilst all t]>o rest, in tuni, one 
 after one, dismounted to intlict the punishment, 
 taking the bloody rods from the hands of their tired 
 companions. The sufferer bore all with scarcely a 
 groan, although the ticsh was peeling away from 
 his bare back with the unceasing flagellation. 
 
 The wolf eagerly listened for a cry or even a mur- 
 mur, but no, the helpless man never winced — never 
 even moaned. At length they came to a narrow 
 mountahi stream with a clean channel of sand and 
 stones, and whilst the horse stopped to drink, the 
 yeoman amused themselves by rubbing handfuls of 
 the gritty alluvia into the wounds they were so 
 mercilessly inflicting. This was too much for hu- 
 man nature to endure in utter silence, and so, the 
 poor fellow fairly cried out, 'O Lord! O Lord!'* 
 
 'I do not pity you a bit, you ■ damned rebel,' 
 scofi'ed the wolf of the Galtees, thinking that the 
 man addressed himself to him. 
 
 'You!' exclaimed the bleeding rebel, scornfully, 
 and looking up into his face. 'You! I do not mean 
 you, you cowardly tyrant!' 
 
 'Untie the fellow — untie the fellow,' commanded 
 the discomfitted earl, afraid of a repetition of such 
 contemptuous language in the hearing of his vas- 
 sals, 'Untie him, and we'll hunt him through the 
 country.' This was an admirable thought — a sport 
 indeed, frequently practised by the heroic corps of 
 whom we write. 
 
 The prisoner was unloosed. 
 
 'Now — fly for your life, you dog, for the first 
 man who overtakes you will cut you down.' 
 
 The mangled wretch was one pool of blood; but, 
 nevertheless, his indomitable spirit was still alive. 
 He stooped, and taking up the gory sticks with 
 which he was tortured, in one hand, he picked up 
 a heavy stone with the other, and letting fly at the 
 wolf, he missed him, but struck his horse's head 
 such a violent blow that the animal bounded into 
 the air and threw his rider backward upon the 
 earth. In the confusion away sprang the fugitive, 
 still holding the crimsoned sticks within his grasp, 
 and making for a boggy land which he knew mTist 
 baffle his pursuers. On he ran, panting and bleed- 
 ing, but still bearing up, as the hope of escape be- 
 came stronger and stronger. He gained the mo- 
 rass, popped over it lightly, just stopped to raise 
 some water in the hollow of his hand to wet his 
 parched lips, and to cool his throbbing temples; 
 then forward once more, though now more plod- 
 dingly and wearily; he was becoming weaker and 
 weaker. He was now on the banks of the Fun- 
 
 • The followiug is a translation of a few oftbe stanzas of 
 the ballad fouDCl on the person of John Galwey — a ballad 
 well known even to this day in the South oflrelaud, which 
 in rude verse may run somewhat alter this fashion : — 
 
 A MESSAGE FUOM MUN8TKU. 
 
 Friend and ally — on to Muaster — 
 Take this letter— and away— 
 And, this trial that awaits them, 
 Fully, in this language say : 
 
 That many a mild and beauteous maiden — 
 And nmle^jhild fair, with hair of snow. 
 And many a stalworlh youth is rotting— 
 Lying in our grave-yurdy, low. 
 
 A thousand ills befall thee, Munster, 
 That did not light the battle-lire— 
 Sure, ye had weapons bright and sun-like— 
 As any warriors could desire. 
 
 But, sick and girt with myriad foemen, 
 Munster left us in our woe — 
 Hark! the bands of war-like Leinster, 
 Kow, are dashing on the Koel! 
 
 cheon; the tramps of the trooper's horses were mo- 
 mentarily audible and more audible — well, he could 
 crawl no further, he dropped down into the river, 
 just by a thick clump of rushes, and submerging 
 his whole body, hid his head amongst them. At 
 that moment, the horsemen rode up — they rode 
 past! — he was safe! He thanked God fervently, as 
 tkeir wild halloos echoed through the mountains, 
 and their footsteps died away upon the wind. 
 
 Some time elapsed after those events, and not a 
 very long time neither, when it was whispered 
 throughout the country that the 'wolf of the Ual- 
 tees' was no more. Many thought the report too 
 good to be true, others disbelieved it altogether, 
 whilst the great majority hoped that if the event 
 did not actually take place, that it soon would. In 
 reality, and in good truth, the stormy earl's life 
 was ended — there was no longer any doubt of it; 
 the long trailing black flag was hoisted on the bat- 
 tlements of his castle, and hi s domestics appeared 
 all in mourning. The earl was dead — the earl was 
 dead! The news spread like wild-fire all over the 
 land. A cry of joy and exultation followed the an- 
 nouncement wherever it was related, and even 
 more; the peasantry forthwith prepared to celebrate 
 the glad tidings by lighting a prodigious bonfire on 
 a high hill very near, and commanding a full view 
 of the dark stone walls where their arch-enemy was 
 lying a cold and livid corpse. 
 
 On that hill, on that sultry night of mid-sum- 
 mer, was assembled as picturesque a group of mor- 
 tals as ever was painted by the magic i)encil of Mi- 
 chael Angelo. 
 
 In the background was a body of pike-men lying 
 on the grass, each man with his weapon by his side, 
 and the remains of a rude feast scattered about be- 
 tween them. Near them, moved about a number 
 of women and girls, who had of late been evidently 
 engaged in a series of culinary operations, for a 
 large pot, hung from a triangle of poles, was still 
 boiling merrily away, whilst the smouldering em- 
 bers of turf and brambles were fuming beneath it. 
 
 The foreground, or brow of the hill, was occu- 
 pied by an enormous pile of furze, brushwood, and 
 other combustibles, ready for the application of the 
 torch, and promising a formidable blaze that would 
 mount up furiously into the heavens. About these 
 materials of a gigantic bonfire, gambolled in eontin 
 uous circles, numbers of men and boys, all clad in 
 their holiday costume, and as merry and excited as 
 if they were about to celebrate some annual rustic 
 fete. They were waiting for the waning of the moon, 
 in order that their fire should shine with greater 
 brilliancy and effect ; besides, the darkness was to 
 be the signal for other fires to be kindled simulta- 
 neously with their own. At length the propitious 
 moment arrived, and a faggot of flaring furze was 
 seen moving rapidly towards the ready pyre ; in 
 another instant a vapory cloud of waving smoke 
 crept up lazily into the air, swaying about in gusty 
 volumes, and now and then darting forth a rapid 
 serpent-like tongue of flame from its dark throat, 
 then a thin pillar of light stood up straight in the 
 midst of the dull murkiness, and at last, like a great 
 sun, out opened a broad red sheet of unmingled 
 light swallowing up all the dense darkness, as if at 
 a single gulph, and making it mid-day all over the 
 heathery hill. A loud shout heralded in the glori- 
 ous conflagration, and was repeated again and again, 
 as the reflection of the red glare danced upon the 
 window panes of the distant towers. 
 
 At that moment a man was seen toiling labori 
 ously and swiftly up the side of the hill and mak 
 ing towards the burning beacon — he came nearer 
 and nearer — the people above recognized him — an 
 other deafening cheer followed the discovery — it was 
 John Galwey. 
 
 Now he was in the midst of them, but to their 
 many warm welcomes and congratulations, he made 
 no reply. 
 
 In his arms was a bundle of dried crisped boughs. 
 Nobody there knew their significance — he cast them 
 into the midst of the blazing mass, and then watch- 
 ing them as tliey quickly burned into ashes. 
 
 'There ye go!" ho muttered ; — 'follow him, fol- 
 low him — into ashes, into nothing. God forgive us 
 all, unfortunate sinners.' 
 
 The sticks thus reduced to embers were branches, 
 saturated with blood, with which poor Galwey had 
 been nearly scourged to death. 
 
 Cakolan. 
 
 New Post Office Bills. — Mr. English, of the 
 sub-Committe on the Post Office Department, has 
 presented the points of a bill proposing, first, that 
 the Post Office Department be made to pay its own 
 way as far as can be done with proper regard to the 
 postal wants of the country, and without materially 
 increasing the present rates of postage. 
 
 Second, To that end that the franking privilege 
 should be abolished or materially abridged. 
 
 Third, That the printing of the department should 
 be restricted. 
 
 Fourth, That ocean mail service to foreign coun- 
 tries should only be established where there is need 
 for postal purposes, and where the postage on the 
 mail matter to be carried would be sufficient, or 
 nearly so, to pay expenses. 
 
 Fifth, That ocean routes should be established 
 by Congress substantially in the same manner as the 
 service now is on land, and that the contracts for 
 carrying the mail on such routes should be made 
 with the lowest responsible bidders, after advertise- 
 ment. 
 
 Sixth, That no power shall be allowed the Post- 
 master General to contract for ocean service except 
 on routes established by Congress, and then only 
 to the lowest responsible bidder, after advertise- 
 ment. 
 
 Seventh, That if the lines be established mainly 
 with the view of encouraging commerce or provid- 
 ing vessels suitable for war purposes, and when the 
 postal service would be an incident rather than the 
 object, they should be charged to and devolved 
 upon the Navy Department, and not to the Post- 
 office department. 
 
 And Eighth, That stringent provisions should be 
 adopted to prevent mail matter being carried out- 
 side the mails. 
 
 American Tea a Failure. — Those who have 
 made the experiment of raising tea in this country, 
 say that the plant wUl grow well enough, but wages 
 are too high. They cannot afford to pick, roll up, 
 and dry any sort of leaves here for half a dollar a 
 pound. In China, where a man is hired for a dol- 
 lar a month and boards himself, it maybe done. 
 
 Two officers observing a fine girl in a milliner's 
 shop, one, an Irishman, proposed to go in and buy a 
 watch ribbon, in order to get a nearer view of her. 
 'Hoot, mon, there's nae occasion to waste siller,' said 
 his companion, 'let us gang in and speer if she can gi" 
 us twa saxpenccs for a shilling.' It is notorions, that 
 in one of the duke of Marlborough's battles, the Irish 
 brigade, on advancing to the charge, threw away their 
 knapsacks and everything that tended to encumber 
 them, all of which were carefully picked up by a Scotch 
 regiment that followed to support them. 
 
 A gentleman one day argued in company, with 
 much warmth that diet inv.ariably affected the dis- 
 positions of persons, and that they would naturally 
 partake of the disposition of the animal on which 
 they fed. -If that be the case,' observed a lady 
 present, you must be a great lover of pork." 
 
 A member of the Massachusetts House of Keprcsen- 
 tatives, closed a speech on a militia bill with the fol- 
 lowing pathetic appeal: — 'Mr. Speaker, if this bill is 
 postponed, I shall be as crazy as a bed bug.' 
 
28G 
 
 IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 The Fbbncii and Enolibu Marinb.— The fol- 
 lowing article, translated from the ' Courricr dcs 
 Eta.t riiis." gives tlie comparative strength of the 
 navies of Frajicc and England, as at present organ- t" 
 iicd : — 
 
 The discussion which has recently taken place in 
 the Uritish Parlinmcut apropos of the naval esti- 
 mates, has already shown with what an eye of jeal- 
 ousy and solicitude they watch in England the de- 
 velopment of the naval forces of France. Great 
 Uritain has been so occustomed to an undisputed 
 supremacy,— the cause of so many of our disasters — 
 that she cannot see without profound spite this an- 
 cient supremacy thus newly disputed. Perhaps, the 
 umbnige of national dignity, we should find the se- 
 cret of all that has recently transpired. The follow- 
 ing article has been published in a Leipsic Review 
 entitled Notre Temps— a work which enters inti- 
 mately into the question, and which otfers much 
 matter of extreme interest. 
 
 The work which contains the comparative statis- 
 tics of the French Marine, prepared with extreme 
 care, "ocs to prove, by figures, that in more than 
 mere words the French Marine, may be placed to- 
 day on the same footing as that of England. 
 
 In 1815 England possessed 177 ships, 17 of the 
 line, 238 frigates and 327 vessels of smaller dimen- 
 sions; in all 7 13 ships-of-war ; while France poss- 
 essed but 60 ships, mostly of an inferior rank, and 
 partly not in a fit state to put to sea. 
 
 On the other hand, what is the state of things in 
 1857? 
 
 England possesses o5G ships of war ; partly sail- 
 ing, partly screws, 1C2 gun-boats. France 450 ships- 
 of-war, and 30 boats. 
 
 The numerical euperiority seems to be still with 
 England, but the individual inventory of the two 
 marines soon shows, says the author of the statis- 
 tics, that this superiority is more apparent than 
 real. 
 
 In fact, the haughty English Admirals bring into 
 their reckoning all the vessels that they possess, 
 good and bad, old and new — of which some are a 
 half a century old, and even more. The French ma- 
 rine, of which the organizotion did not seriously 
 commence until 1810, has not any vessel, so to speak 
 whose age exceeds twenty years, ^\■hcn we deduct 
 from the effective marine of England the old ves- 
 sels unfit for service, as was done by Admiral Na- 
 pier, in 1819, the navy will probably be brought to 
 the same figure as that of France. 
 
 The French ships-of-war, says the German writer 
 need not fear to-doy a comparison with English 
 ships-of-war, neither in solidity, convenience or ra- 
 pidity of motion. France possesses 25 magnificent 
 screw transport vessels, capable of embarking a 
 thousand men each; she has 22 steam frigates, of 
 which number, one transported in 1849, in the 
 space of thirty hours, a regiment of cavalry from 
 Toulon to Civita Vecchia. For the transport of 
 10,000 men to India, England has already been un- 
 der the necessity of engaging private vessels. 
 
 The personnel of the French marine is now per- 
 fectly organized; in time of peace 50,000 sufticing — 
 in time ol war 130,000 being necessary to complete 
 the armament of all the vessels. Now the popula- 
 tion of the French coasts can furnish 162,000 sail- 
 ors, without reckoning a special corps of 20,000 
 regularly organized marines, for a disembarkation 
 force. 
 
 England would have need of 1.50,000 men to com- 
 plete the equipage of all her ship-of-war ; she has 
 them not. The budget of 1852 specifies the person- 
 nel of her navy at 53,700 men, which includes 
 15,000 marines. In tlie debate of the 12th of April 
 the House fixed on 59,380 sailors and cabin boys as 
 the number for this year. 
 
 During the last war were the French inferior to 
 the English in their naval evolutions and manoeu- 
 vres ? Most unquestionably no ; neither in the 
 
 Black Sen nor in the Baltic. Lastly, the author of 
 the remarkable work in Leipsic Keview finishes by 
 quoting the testimony of competent men, and 
 after them all those who have been able to compare 
 the two fleets, that they deserve to be placed on the 
 same footing. 
 
 A CitiSESE Tjieatoe. — The Chinese theatrical 
 troupe, whose entertainments in their vernacular, 
 we have noticed on various occasions heretofore, are 
 again in our midst. They have engaged a building 
 on Uupont street nearly opposite the Adelphi, their 
 former theatre, and hold forth nightly. Persons 
 passing in that neighborhood, between the hours of 
 7 and 11 o'clock any evening, will be likely to hear 
 a horrible medley of sounds from gongs, rattling 
 bones, banjoes, liddles, drums and screaming voices, 
 which it may be necessary to state, is Chinese oper- 
 atic music and singing. Enter the place and you 
 will find an audience of several rows of Chinamen 
 ranged behind several rows of Chinawomen, all 
 smoking, or eating pea-nuts, or laughing and talk- 
 ing perhaps, but still keeping their attention upon 
 the drama. 
 
 On one side of the stage are the orchestra, smok- 
 ing and drumming away at their instruments ; and 
 at the other, a lot of stage instruments in the shape 
 of huge swords, battle axes, flags, tables, chairs, 
 and whatever else may be needed in the course of 
 the play. There are no shifting scenes and no drop 
 curtain ; but the audience is called upon to imagine 
 the scene by large signs in Chinese characters, which 
 are changed with each change of scene. The actors 
 make their entrances at a door at the back part on 
 one side of the stage, and make their exits at a sim- 
 ilar one on the other side. The plays are generally 
 operatic, if they may so be termed, consisting of 
 songs and dialogues, all with musical or orchestral 
 accompaniments. The language is said to be the 
 Court language, and for that reason, as well as be- 
 cause it is diiKcult to understand singing at the best, 
 many of the audience have trouble in keeping along 
 with the thread of the story. The actors are bred 
 up to their professions from youthhood, and are all 
 males, those who represent women having, however, 
 very feminine appc.irances. They never make blun- 
 ders in their parts, and never forget or hesitate over 
 a word. 
 
 ago, meeting a little locomotive engine without 
 driver or attendant, whizzing directly at him ! This 
 was fifty years before (jeorge Stephenson, by com- 
 bining the experience of the world with his own 
 idea, made a practical working machine of the loco- 
 motive. 
 
 A Steam Engine Exi-ehiment. — A Soaked 
 Clergyman. — The first English model of a steam 
 carriage was made in 1787, by William Murdoch, 
 the friend and assistant of Watt. It was on the high 
 pressure principle, and ran on tliree wheels. The 
 boiler was heated by a spirit lamp, and the whole 
 machine was of very diminutive dimensions, stand- 
 ing very little more than a foot high. Yet, on one oc- 
 casion the little engine went so fast that it outrun 
 the speed of its inventor. Mr. Buckle says that one 
 night, after returning from his duties in the mine at 
 Redruth, in Cornwall, ilurdoch detemiincd to try 
 the working of his model locomotive. For this 
 purpose he had recourse to the ^alk leading to the 
 church, about a mile to the town. The walk was 
 rather narrow, and bounded on either side by high 
 badges. It was a dark night, and Murdoch set out 
 alone to try his experiment. Having lit his lamp, 
 the water began to boil, and off started the engine 
 with the inventor after it. He soon heard distant 
 shouts of despair. It was too dark to perceive ob- 
 jects ; but he shortly found, on following up the 
 machine, that the cries for assistance proceeded from 
 the worthy pastor of the parish, wh 3, going towards 
 the town on business, was met on the road by the 
 hissing and fiery little monster, which he subsequent- 
 ly declared he believed to be the Evil One propria 
 persona. No further steps, however, were taken by 
 Murdoch to embody his idea of a locomotive car- 
 riage in a more practical form. Fancy a clergyman 
 on a dark night in a deserted road, seventy years 
 
 MISCELLANEA. 
 
 He who lives only to benefit himself gives the 
 world a benefit when he dies. 
 
 ■WTiat kind of sweetmeats were most prevalent in 
 Noah's ark ? Preserved pairs. 
 
 The last excuse for crinoline is, that the ' weaker 
 vessels ' need much hooping. 
 
 ' Please, sir, I don't think Mr. Dosim takes his 
 physic reg'lar,' said a doctor's boy to his employer. 
 ' Why so ?' ' Cause vy, he's getting veil so precious 
 fast !' 
 
 A man sentenced to be hung, was visited by his 
 wife, who said ; ' My dear, would you like the chil- 
 dren to see you executed ?' ' No,' replied he. ''I'hat 
 is just like you,' said she, 'you never wanted the 
 children to have any enjoyment.' 
 
 Sheridan being on a Parliamentary committee, 
 one day entered the room as all the members were 
 seated and ready to commence business. Perceiving 
 no empty seat, he bowed, and looking round the 
 table with a droll expression of countenance, said, 
 ' Will any gentleman move that I may take the 
 chair r' 
 
 A short time ago, at a school in the North of Eng- 
 land, during a lesson on the animal kingdom, the 
 teacher put the following question : — ' Can any boy 
 name to me an animal of the order edantata — that 
 is, a front tooth toothless animal ?' A boy (whose 
 face beamed with pleasure at the prospect of a good 
 mark, replied) ' I can.' ' Well, what is the animal r' 
 asked the teacher. 'My grandmother !' replied the 
 boy, with great glee. 
 
 Rees, the great mimic, once appeared in the Court 
 of King's Bench as bail'for a friend. Garrow ex- 
 amined him, and said. ' You arc, I believe, an imi- 
 tator; are you not?' 'So they tell me,' replied 
 Rees. ' Tell you, sir ! — you know it ; are you not 
 in the habit of taking people off;' said the judge. 
 ' O yes,' was the reply, ' and I shall take myself off 
 the moment you are done with me.' 
 
 A few days since a country fellow entered a bank, 
 and marching up to the counter, exclaimed, ' Here 
 I am ; I want you to take a fair look at me.' AVith- 
 out a word further he strode out. The next day the 
 same customer appeared, uttered the same words, 
 and again disappeared. The third day, at about the 
 same time, he walked in, and advancing to the 
 counter, threw down a draft, payable three days 
 after sight. ' Now,' said he, ' you have seen me 
 three times, I want the money for it.' 
 
 ADVERTISEMENTS, 
 
 WILLIAM K. O'BRIEN, 
 
 77 TUIItD Av£nUE, new YORK. 
 
 — Mauufacturcr of— 
 LOOKING-GLASS, PORTRAIT 
 
 AND 
 
 PICTURE FRAMES, 
 
 W/ioUmle and HftniL 
 
 Oil PaintingA and Eiif^ravinf^s fmincd and varnished. 
 
 Orders promptly executed, packed and shipped to any part 
 
 lDy22 of the country. 3m» 
 
 "WILLIAM P E A R C E , 
 PL UMBER, 
 
 12 AND 28 CITr EXCBANOB, 
 
 DEVONSUIRE STREET, 
 
 BOSTON. 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 287 
 
 ADVERTISEMENTS. 
 
 FINE READY MADE CLOTHING 
 
 — AXD— 
 
 CUSTOM TAILORING. 
 
 SrniKG OVKRCOATS, 
 
 BUSINESS COATS, 
 
 FliOK. AND DKESS COATS, 
 
 I'ANTS AND VESTS, 
 Goop, Sttlimi, Well Made Gauments, 
 Such as men of taste luid good judgment will wear, can at 
 all times be found at our store. 
 Our aim is to produce for our customers the best Ready 
 Marie Garments at the lowest I'ossiblk pkices vos. 
 CASH. 
 
 Headers of this Journal are earnestly solicited to exam- 
 ine our goods before purchasing, 
 
 J A . S M I T H & C 0., 
 
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 niyll tf 
 
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 PHOTOGRAPH AND DAGUERREOTYPE 
 
 AKTIST. 
 
 289 Washinotok Street, 
 
 (Up one flight of stairs) 
 
 BOSTOlf, 
 
 rhotographs taken of every size and finished in Oil, Wa- 
 ter, India Ink and hastel Colors. Daguerreotypes takeu in 
 the most superior manner. myl 
 
 LBUIJNHAM, (formerly junior partner in the firm of 
 . BoK.N-nA.M Bp.otueks,) has taken the Old Stand, 5S 
 & UO Coruhill, occupied by the late linn, and holds himself 
 iu readiness to supply all orders with which he may be fa- 
 vored. 
 
 Ye Antique Booke Store still flourisheth, 
 
 Asytte dide in days of yore; 
 And ye Burkham still catereth 
 
 For ye lovers of ancient lore. 
 
 al7 
 
 8t 
 
 SOUTH END CATHOLIC BOOK STORE, 
 
 And Depot for the Sale of the 
 
 METROPOLITAN AND YOUTHS' MAGAZINES. 
 
 WILLIAM KEATING, Agent, 
 
 8 1-2 Harrison Avenue, or at his New Periodical Store, 176 
 
 Harrison Avenue, Boston, Mass., 
 
 Where a great variety of the most popular Books and 
 
 Papers cam be had at the very lowest prices, 
 
 WILL supply Clubs, Agents, Canvassers, &c.. on the 
 same terms as the I'ublishers. The following are 
 the terms— 3 copies will be sent by mail, to one address, tor 
 one year 85; 6 copies for SflO; 13 copies for (620; 20 copies 
 
 Vy On the receipt of Sf3, three copies of the Catholic 
 Youth's Magazine and one copy of the Metropolitan will 
 be mailed regularly for one year. 
 
 ^Cy A i'ew sets of the Slagazines from the beginning, can 
 be bad of the Agent. Also, all new books furnished as 
 eoon as published. ap24 Smos 
 
 GENERAL TICKET OFFICE 
 
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 S O UT HERN AN D WESTERN STATES, 
 
 AND 
 
 THE CANADAS, 
 No. 2 Albany Street, Boston. 
 
 EDWARD RYAN, Agent. 
 
 N. n.— Passage to and from Liverpool, and Bills of Ex- 
 change on Engiaud, Ireland aud Scotland. 
 
 ap24 ly 
 
 AMUSEMENTS. 
 
 BOSTON THEATRE. 
 Thomas Barry, Lessee and Manager. 
 
 Doors open at 7 ; Performance commences at 7 1-2 o'clock 
 I'ncos of admission— Private Bo.xes»«; Parquette, Bal- 
 
 ony and 1st licr 00 cts; Family Circle 25 cts; Amiihithca- 
 
 rc ]5 cts. 
 
 BOSTON MUSEUM. 
 W. H. Smith, stage Manager. 
 
 Open for the production of Tragidies, Comedies, Spec- 
 tacles, Farces, &c. 
 Exhibition Hall opens at6 1-2; commences at 7 1-2. 
 Admission 25 cents ; Reser\'ed Scats 60 cents. 
 
 o 
 
 JOHN MITCHEL'S LETTERS 
 S' the altc-ii, pled Revolution in Ireland in IRIS, and the 
 causes which led thereto, are republished sxclusively 
 
 IRISH AMERICAN. 
 
 Publication Office, No. 32 Beekman street. New York. For 
 
 -■ ^ by nil news dealer.". Price three cents per copy. Sub- 
 
 •iwmy22 
 
 •cripllon Sl,60 per annum. 
 
 WILLIAM D. PARK, 
 
 SHADES HOTEL, 
 
 NO. 2 MORTON PLACE, 
 
 boston. 
 
 WHY BUUX GAS BY DAYLIGHT? 
 
 STEPHEN ROE 4" CO., 
 TNVEXTORS and Manufacturers of the Improved Day- 
 in.„ R H ",'"''',°''"'' for. dilTusing the healthy ^ight of day 
 inloall dark rIoceH No. 23 State street, BostoB, and No. 
 « Park street. liallimnre. ' 
 
 — Ilaltimnre. 
 n. B. Call and see it in operation. 
 
 HOWARD ATHENiEUJI. 
 
 Jacob Barrow, Lessee and Manager. 
 
 Henry Wallack, stage Manager. 
 
 The Grand Combination every night 
 Doors open at 7; Performance commences at 7 1-2. 
 Dress Boxes 75 cts; Circle boxes 50 cts; Parquette 50 cts; 
 Orchestra 1 5 cts; Upper Boxes 25 cts; Gallery 13 cts. 
 
 GILMORE'S SALEM QUADRILLE BAND. E. UP- 
 TON, Jr., Prompter. Apply to P. S. Gilmore, Es- 
 sex House, Salem, Mass. 3m febl3 
 
 B?J?^,^OK, ATTORNEY and COUNSELLOR 
 . AT LAW, 15 Massachusetts Block, Court Square, 
 Boston. ' ' 
 
 [C?"Particular attention paid to Conveyancing, and the 
 examiuation of titles of Real Estate. fcbl3 
 
 A WILLIAMS & CO., Wholesale Agents, for the Irise 
 . Miscellany. The Tiade supplied with Books, Pe- 
 riodicals and Newspapers. Special Agents for Harper & 
 Brothers Publications. No. 100 Washington street. 
 feb20 Boston. 
 
 P . MORRIS, 
 
 APOTHECARY, 
 
 Corner of Federal and Purchase streets, foot of Summer 
 
 street, Boston. 
 
 STRICT personal attention paid to compounding Physi 
 clan's Prescriptions. A choice selection of Family 
 Medicines constantly on hand. A well selected stock of 
 genuine imported Perfumery and Fancy Goods. Soda 
 Water with choice Syrups. A large assortment of genuine 
 Havana Segars constantly on hand. ap5 
 
 NORTHERN HOUSE, 
 
 north square — BOSTON. 
 
 JOHN GLANCY Propkietoe. 
 
 This House has rooms equal to any first class Hotel, and 
 permanent or transient Boarders can be accommodated 
 nearly one half cheaper than at any other House in the 
 City. 
 
 In the Reading Room can be found all the morning and 
 evening papers, and periodicals of the day, together with 
 an extensive Library, for the iica and exclusive u=e of 
 the Boarders. 
 
 N. B. Strangers visiting Boston, can always find this 
 House a Home. 
 
 THE SOUTHERN CITIZEN, 
 
 TS published weekly at Knoxville, Tennessee, by JOHN 
 MITCHELL & WM. G. SWAN, at 82 per annum, or 
 SI for SIX months, payable invariably in advance. 
 
 Mr. Mitchell having commeneed in the 28th number of 
 the paper, a series of Letters addressed to the Hon. Alex- 
 ander 11. Stephens of Georgia, which when completed will 
 turuisli an entire history ot 
 
 THE IRISH TROUBLES OF 1848, 
 With their Causes and Consequences, 
 The Southern Citizen will he the more interesting to both 
 American and Irish readers. Besides these contributions 
 from Mr. Milchel, the Southern Citizen will continue to 
 have its usual quantity of original matter upon political 
 and literary subjects prepared by him. The circulation, 
 though large and coni'tantly increasing, the proprietors 
 have thought will be much more extended by an announce- 
 ment in this form. 
 
 Cnminunicatioiis with remittances may he addresedto 
 Jlitchel & Swan, Knoxville, Tennessee, or to any of the 
 following Agents: 
 
 S G Courtenay & Co, Charleston, S C; Thomas 1! OTon- 
 nnr, Savniiiiah, Ga; .1 C Morgan. Nvu- ( Irleaiis. I,a; .his A 
 (loiilry, (lichinoiiii, V,i ; AlcMuiik-r Adams.. ii, \Vu-;lihi-lon 
 
 city; Tallinngc&fi i-r, 1 iiiei ili,(l; IMI llin ,.,|," 110 
 
 Fullou slixvl, N Y; .S II i;„et/,.i. If.l lmu|,lnn .Ktreot Mobile 
 Ala; llciij II Davis, Masonic Building, Montgomery Ala' 
 KoKs & I'oucey, 121 Nassau street, N \ , supplv dealers only 
 upon reasonable terms ; James McGinn, 121 Kearney street 
 
 •,* Clubs of ten will be supplied with the paper for Sl5. 
 
 DO'l'.i lUUK E, respectfully informs his friends and the 
 . Iiuhlic, that he keeps con.«tunlly on hand C01''l''Ii\.S 
 ol all sizis and kinds, at Ins Colhr Manufactory, No. 347 
 I'Lih-nii. I.clwicn lieacli and Kneeland Streets, Boston 
 ivhieh he will sell as reasonable as can he boughtat any otl> 
 
 N. I!.— ijiders piinctnallv attended to, day or night. 
 Residence, No. 28 South street, Boslnii. 
 C7"Grave-Clothe3 liirnished to order at short notice. 
 feblS 
 
 SUBSCRIBE! SUBSCRIBE! SUBSCRIBE! 
 
 THE IRISH MISCELLANY 
 
 PICTURE GALLERY. 
 
 Inducements to Nkw Subscribers. 
 
 On Saturday, the .3(1 of .l,iiv n,.vt ,,.„ m,„„ „„„ ,, 
 
 each subscriber'to Ibc 1 iin aVvilVvi'. " ,f !nh?!lM 
 
 Lithographic Eligra, hi;.., rr|u,.,,!i,„,'i;L; ,','7,; ","''''.''''''' 
 which occurred shoiili l,(.|,,i,. n,,. ,",,,i,,,,,r ,;,•,■' '"-':",'') 
 when General Sarslieki, wIm cu na iXd ,,^. I,.j: " w'"^' 
 haviug learned that a large s.ipp o I e.vv i .L, """' 
 
 ^i^St !;r;out:^jn";s ;;^;:;.ei;i?^■;!;^.';?y^^^'^ 
 t;^j(^s:xi^a^d,^^;i,a^l!^;i;;Xdth2i^rr:!trSS 
 
 Md ' "*"' "'"'' "'■''""■^ '" "*« li»Dd» of sars- 
 
 Having to rejoin the garrison at Limerick, Sarsfield knew 
 It would be impossible to carry with him the heavy En^ 
 hsh guns through the mountain passes, and deternifned fo 
 destroy them. He ordered them' to be'charged to tliefr ut- 
 most capacity, and imbedded deeply in the larth, with the 
 whole Of the baggage train, which also fell into lis hands 
 A tram being laid, the spark was applied and in a few seel 
 ondstheseige artillery of William was shattered into inim- 
 merable fragments This gallant feat astonished the Enc- 
 hsh troops, gave new courage to the Irish, and added to 
 the great popularity of the gallant Sarsfiefd. The exrdo- 
 immlnsTSislance."' ' '" ""'" ''™"°''' ""''^"^ ^'""^ « "" 
 
 It is at tlie moment of the explosion of the English ar- 
 hispencir hassiezed upon for the subject of 
 
 This memorable event will be faithfully and accuratelv 
 portrayed. It hasnot^hitherto given inspiratron, as far a^ 
 we can learn to any of our Irisli artists and shall now h 
 amble justice done it. It will make'a beautiful picfu7e 
 We shall present It to our readers on a sheet of ine draw' 
 Trimm""'' ^'^^""'"'^ ^^°'^ ""' Miscellany, suitable for 
 
 Itwifiatonce be seen that we cannot do this without a 
 great outlay of capita. We expect to be reimbursed by a 
 verv large addition to our sufscription list, as no per/on 
 will be entitled to it who has not paid on orbefdre the 3d 
 of July next one years' subscription in advance dating 
 from our hrstnumber. "^"^'■c, uuimg 
 
 Non subscribers will be supplied at Sl,60 for each plate 
 
 We areresolved that our subscribers shall pcssesfa 'pic- 
 ture gallery' worthy of the events we propose to commSm 
 orate. This will be the first of a series of NlTlo„Trpi^" 
 TURES we propose presenting gratis to our regular subscrib- 
 ers the second picture of the series will be ready earli in 
 October, the subject of which is not vet decided nn^v^ 
 should feel obliged to any of our friends who potessolt 
 pictnres of remarkable events in Irish history, or portraha 
 "LufFi''^""^ Irishmen to forward them tour They 
 shall be taken good care of; and returned ' 
 
 Let our friends see to their subscriptions in sensor, n„. 
 Picture Gallery will be fit to adorn thrwall of any"gen?" 
 man's house m the country, and will, we hope, eventuallv 
 supersede the wretched daubs which are often niet witi. 
 
 Our arrangements for the first picture are almoVfinm 
 pleted. It will be absolutely necessary that we sliouM 
 know immediately the number of plates we shall ant 
 -^■fV"""* ^.bs^'l'ers therefore sencf in their subscrintfons 
 without delay, and be careful to give us their ,.n„ V. . 
 dress. We shall not strike off fny more com'es tl,„, it 
 ordered before the above date. ^ """' "^ 
 
 Will our friends of the press please notice this new fea- 
 ture in our publication, and we will take care that their 
 pIctuT'"" ""orned with choice copies of this nationil 
 
 THE IRISH VINDICATOR, 
 
 A WEEKLY NEWSPAPER, 
 The Best and Cheapest Published in Ajiekioa. 
 
 THIS splendid Paper, which is little over nine montha 
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 Original and entertaining 
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 and a variety of Mi.'icelhincous Readiufrmnffo,. „f„ , 
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 TO any part ^^S^;:;:S:^in^§o£^Xe "yZ, 
 
 11 ";;r'i^?i?ti;r'^'°" Sil 'r • i ^j-r"' !^-™ 
 
 New York,"byTK P^^'pi'ijfo'^ ^"""'' ^» ^^ SP™"'^ 'f'^'et, 
 
 K A- 1 K1'"'-;V'1J DOWNES CONNERY & CO 
 New 1 ork. march 27 '-•*'. j. » k^^j. 
 
 PASSEXIi V.n CERTIFICATE.S 
 
 TO OLD rofNTl.'VMKN. Owen Mo Na,,.„. ■ 
 Passace Certilieul.s ai,,l ]>rnCi» „i. . SAMARA has 
 forsJlt '^A.r he oesbu iie^s lor nZ?^l.°\' ''""'' """ 
 house, (Williams & Guion n New Y^rk Oh r'f''.""''^'^ 
 desiring to send for their friends or remit m^""""'^""r" 
 do welPto give him a call at No Igorua^?%T^'' '''°"- " 
 Summer St., Lowell, Muss. '"^''"' * *J"«"^M St.. opposite 
 ' ap2tt 
 
THE UNION" 
 
 m KATHLEEJS MMCieiSiEIM il® BEllOT AST)fT.OK.Ee 
 
 WRITTEN BY MRS. CRAWFORD. MUSIC BY P. N. CROUCH. 
 
 //// ^ ^ mf^ mf . ^ rrc. / ^ ;/// -.>- / ^ ^ //// 
 
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 1. O Kv - cicon ilcar, l->elccn, mv ilarliii^ Col- Ikco '. O'er the Uikf'st stil-lv wntPis tlio wilil liinla iire seen, An<l llie lii.tt kIo'v of criiii«on mm 
 •j! II Kv - ileeii dear, Eveleeii, ihy C.iro - luiiwiiiw, Tlio bravu I'riiieool'Ujul.tvcu op • eiii liii nMm, Cjiiij u - W:iv i" 'i<- lir-l.i i, |- 
 
 ^■^^''"•inf^ jif mfvJ^ 
 
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 -••■ =C«11« voce. _^ jjif 
 
 Cantnlille molto. V»vrenH.1UJ 
 
 
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 fliislics the we«i, Klittiii.el>ack to Dun -lo - ra's green co - verts of rc^t. Oh ! (-omi>, niv swi>pt 
 
 
 A": -tore, To llic feast, and tlic dance, us in bright days of yore, 
 
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 Tliuir puit - 
 
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 " ' ' • II JrTNAd lib. , W I ! ■— ^ -#-*-» c:>- I1..I. 
 
 Evelcen ! 
 o - ver. 
 
 why Inr 
 lliB lov 
 
 rv so long? The old 
 - crs arc met: In the 
 
 TT" 
 Cas-tle 
 joy of 
 
 rings with the dnnce ami llie sonp, From Roh - lets of pold, the 
 that meeting, all grief they for - get, Kroin gob - Icis of gold, the 
 
 
 
 
 
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 mf 
 
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 Million* Ihey pour. 
 
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 ir- — : 
 
 And drink to young " Kathleen " and " Dcrmot As - thoro." From goblets of gold, the Mil-fion they 
 
 
 rh.rJ- 
 
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 IC5 — ]:* ~ f 
 
 
 fp 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 pour. And drink to voung " Kathleen " and " Dermot As -thore,"Och! Der - mot As - tliorc. 
 
 ^ ^ • /?C All lib. ^ 
 
 
 
 :=^=^-='^ 
 
 miL 
 
 *IIoiieir Wine. 
 
VOLUME I— NUMBER 19. ] 
 
 BOSTON, SATURDAY, JUNE 19, 1858. 
 
 [ PRICE FOUR CENTS. 
 
 LONDONDERRY. 
 
 Londonderry is the name of a city and county of 
 Ireland, in tUe province of Ulster. The prefix Lon- 
 don was of no earlier date than the colonization of a 
 part of the county, in the reign of James L, prior to 
 which period, it was called by the Wnglish the country 
 of Coleraine. Derry is a word of the Irish language, 
 corrupted with an English termination, and might be 
 translated oaklands; it may also mean a dty, insulated 
 spot. 
 
 The city of Londonderry is beautifully situated on 
 the banks of the Foyle, chiefly on a piece of elevated, 
 and almost insulated land, which is connected with the 
 county of Donegal by a flat of boggy, loamy land, and 
 perhaps the ancient passage of the river. It is thus 
 mentioned in the ancient Book of Howth: 'Five ye 
 greatest towns yt were in ancient times in Ireland; 
 that is to say, Ardmagh, Dere, Columb-Kille, Drum- 
 cloo, KeUsin, Meath, Foyle-mew.' And the chiefs of 
 
 the land on the same western bank were called Ily- 
 daher-teagh, that is; the 'chiefs of the oak habitations,' 
 now generally wriittn by the names 0"Dougherty and 
 Dougherty; and from the abundance of oaks in former 
 times, it well meiiied the appellation. The ancient 
 records of the place are little known, prior to Columb- 
 Kille, whose history and actions form a predominant 
 part of them. 
 
 Our limited space will not permit us to enter much 
 into detail of the history of this place. Both the ab- 
 bey and town were burned, A. I). 783 and upon being 
 rebuilt were consumed 29 years afterwards, by the 
 Danes, who massacred the students and clergy; but 
 they were, in the year 8.32, driven from the place with 
 great slaughter, by Neil Clane, monarch of Ireland; 
 yet they made afierwards many successful attacks on 
 it, in one of which, Maol Leagliline, in 9315, carried 
 away the shrine of St. Colunib, and returning ai peri- 
 ods of four, six and eleven \ears afterwards, committed 
 
 gua depredations on the town nod its inhabitants. 
 
 O'Brien, prince of Mnnster, with his people made 
 s"v.Tal incursions into ibis distsict, and in the year 
 1134, succeeded in burning most of the town, and all 
 the sacred edifices in it. 
 
 Having been repaired by A'lbot O'Bralchain, it was, 
 in 11.58, made an Episcopal see, and the abbot conse- 
 crated bishop. 
 
 Sx years hence was erected the cathedral on a largj 
 scale: conflagrations happened again in 1170 and 
 12(13 
 
 In 1218 a nunnery was erected, and in 1274 a pri- 
 ory. 
 
 The charter was granted to the London Company 
 in 1515; the battle of Randolph, with 0'N:il of Ulster 
 took place in 1565; and the forfeiture of the place by 
 Sir Heiiry Dochsa, in 1600. 
 
 Seven years afterwards this place, with six coun- 
 ties -were escheated, and though Sir Cahir U'Dogh 
 
 i 111', til, Hi' l.i'MMi.siii.ltUY. 
 
2«)0 
 
 IRISH MISCKLLANY. 
 
 crty, the rlilpf of InnUlinwii, troniliprouMy wi»vA 
 nnii liiirni'il llii' l»»ii in Klim, yet n* nuun im ponvu 
 wiK rintinril, (lie wiilU iil" Ihp clly wi-ro i-rtTli'cl, 
 
 li\ |il| I, tlu'ir li'iiKlli wii" 6I'JI fi>«t, bcniilcH four 
 gntcii, I'lii-li -I fi'i'li (li*> (liiokiioM (I iiikI IIii- Iu'IkI'I 
 twi'iity fm>r. 
 
 |l'*i)r II miirp iniiiiiti' dr»t'ri|ili(in of the wnlU, m'l- 
 till' nrliilrniiuliil llio • Wiilli nf D.iry.'j 
 
 'riii'fiiniilii'mit thin limi' «it<' HU. 
 
 Till' |)liu'i' wiiPi UKiiiii iK'Kii'Ki'J mill roscuoU from 
 till' IrUli ill nut. 
 
 It wiiKiii Iiilii licxiiv'il l>y tlicBiiiiU'iiiiity, but till! 
 iitliuk wim uii"iuriiii.fiil. 
 
 Ill IIIHS it WH» iiIIiii'IiimI liy tlu- wlioli- lrii.h fon'r 
 uiulcr KiiiK Jiinio". fl<'ii> l'"' iiunilli "f IVTriiiln'r Itisa 
 till AiiKiinl ItW!'. Ill Itii* ninminiliU' »ii'Kf, tin- iip- 
 pn-iitli'i' b»y» of till' lily, in ii imroxixiu of anlor, 
 jimt iiH till- I'uiiiiy iipiKMitiil witliiii tluiT liiiiidnil 
 yiiriU ot tlu- Kiiry «"'«'• riilni'il thi> ilriiwl)tiil(;o niiil 
 lurki'il till- Kiilon; till' tiilhu»iii«iii of nine boya wn» 
 noon I'oinmuninili'il to the iiDpuliioe, anil the eiti- 
 ■enii, ri'liifon-i'il hwn tbr eonntry, vomilveil on tlie 
 mont vinovouii ilefonee. After beiiin utmost lietiay- 
 eil bv llie ({oveinor, l.iinily, wlio was on the point 
 ofKlviiiK lip llie eity to the enemy, they elioso the 
 iieU'bnileil tleorKe Walker, Kpineopalian reetor of 
 tlie pnrish of llonaubmore ^aner^val■lls killeil at (be 
 battle of lloyiie.l with one Major llaker, for their 
 Hovernor. The eili»eii8 niiiler these eonimauilers 
 foileil the attacks of James' forces. The HOlferinKs 
 mill privations of the parrison iliiring the siege, eijnal 
 niiytbing to be founil in the n'eorils of history. 
 
 l)erry ha« four main strvotii within the walls, wliieh 
 nn> iiuw Its oriiiimeiil, iiiul mall, with puhlie lerraco, 
 or illainoiitl in the eciitro. 
 
 Tlio eatbeilral is of iho polhic stylo, niul wasi firm 
 orrclvil by Sir Juliu Van|{liii, in IC.'i;i. There nro also 
 two oilier I'ipiseopal eliiin'lieii, two Iloiniin Caiholie 
 chapels, six rn'sbylorinn ehnpels, one Iiiile|H'uilenl, 
 •ml iwo Melhoilisi ineeliii); boiise.s, the Kpisivpal I'lil- 
 «eo, Koyle I'ollei;*'. tiwyii's Chariiulile Iiistilatlon, llio 
 Connly nnii City Conn House, I'lison ami Inlinnary, 
 Corpormion Hall, llio Cnstoin Hmise, the Oislriel l,u- 
 linlie Asyliiiii, anil Ihoso iiulispeiisulile Knjjiisli iiisiiui- 
 lions In In'biiiil— a I'liioii Wviiklioiise and a luirraek. 
 
 The eenlral markel or town bull lUles Ironi UID'J 
 nnil eoiitains Iho k'kk'^I'''^'^^'"' '^'''> upon seven neat 
 nrehes. T'lioii< is a liirKO anil eommoilions yanl, nnil 
 an eli'itant itinrt lioii<e. A seliool for the eiliieiilion of 
 the poor was luiilt at the cxiieiise af the lloanl. Kras- 
 mn* Sinilh, ami the bi^liop. An inlinnary has lalely 
 Iwn erocwU on a lurgo scale, al ihe expense of the 
 eoiuity. 
 
 In IT'.Hi an cloi;anl wooden brid)^' was thrown over 
 the rivur by Samuel Coxe, of Kosiou. U. S. 
 
 The eorporalion iviisists of \U Aldermen, one of 
 whom it Mayor, J4 hur^ense.s, I eluimberlain and ^ 
 •heritVs. Tlicro it ii niililary govoiuor of Iho fort of 
 t'ulmorvi. 
 
 Tlio eily u tilualo on » hill, 119 li-ot alioro high 
 water. Tho population in IS57 was l<.),8S$, which is 
 •lioul UM) loM than in 1 .>i4 1 . 1 Anulonderry relurot ouo 
 member to Iho British I'arbanienl. 
 
 THI KMIORANT. 
 
 •In the west of Ireland, some ten years ago, the 
 spirit of emigialion made rapid strides among the 
 belter order of the lower classes, owing to the false 
 pi-»spcel» held out to tbeni by those Mpivulating ad- 
 venturer*, who had no care bow many families they 
 iuvolviil in ruin pnnided their miseries juivihI the 
 ro;id for their own adraneemcnt. Among the num. 
 bcr of those who lent a willing ear to their machina- 
 tion*, w«» Oenls I'osteUo. Now IVnis was a par- 
 ticularly great man in the part of the country he in- 
 
 wethers, and, nt timeH, a fnt cow, to the fair of tho 
 neigbborliig town, which was distant ubont four 
 miles; and never sat down to u worse dinner than 
 baeon of his own saving, and a smokiiig dish of llal- 
 diiteh cabbages. t)wlng to Ibese and other prudent 
 conslileialions, the piiesl of the piiilsh generally 
 favored the iiiansiun of the liieky Denis, by holding 
 frei|nent Hiatiniis therein ; and made it n ]>oint to 
 breakfast with him every sabbath, after having held 
 mass in the little chapel, which, fortnnutely, lay at 
 but a short distance. Denis had, however, another 
 very consideriible source of prollt in bis triiile, wliiib 
 was, that of cart, plough, and burrow maker gener- 
 al, to the nobility and gentry of Itallybooleghan ; 
 so that, altogether he considered himself, and prob- 
 nbly was, iih inilependaiit a man as the siiuire who 
 wbi|ipeil Ilia four buys every ijunduy to the parish 
 cbuieh. 
 
 ' .\l the early ago of nevcnteen, according to the 
 iiKUul eiistum of Irish peasaiitH, ho hud married a 
 neighbor's daiigbler, stillyounger than himself, and 
 the pride of the village for beauty, fortune, and ae- 
 eomplishnieiils ; in fact, no marriuge in high life was 
 ever more talked over than that of Denis Costello 
 with Nancy O'Neill. The elders of the village met 
 in eoncliive, generally twice or three times n week, 
 at some appointed place, and, voting the schoolmas- 
 ter ill the chair, argued the point with us niiieli zeal 
 as so many ambitious members of I'arliameiit. 
 
 ' As to Denis, he was young, strong, and in love, 
 and did not care a sheaf of oats, so as bo secured 
 his bride, whether she brought him lifty pounds or 
 pence ; but the old folks could not be brought to 
 consider the matter at all in this light, and revers- 
 ing Denis's sentiments, merely considered Ihe giil 
 in the secondary light of a soiuetliing attached to 
 the fortune. After u month's deliberations, in 
 which much urgument was expended, it wus nt 
 length, settled that the bride should bring the lucky 
 Denis tweuty-llve guineas in hard money; two milch 
 cows, and a second hand plough. 
 
 ' Manifold were tho rejoicings in the village of 
 ItaUyboolegban, on the day that Denis, tricked out 
 in a new bi-oad-elotb coat, (in the bright gilt but- 
 tons of which the nieridiau sun saw rellceted his 
 jolly face unshorn of a single beam,") led his blush- 
 ing bride to the hynieneul altur, surrounded by a 
 concourse of as happy faces as ever danced at a holi- 
 day festival. The bells would have infallibly rung 
 a loud and merry i>eal, as bells are wont, did it not 
 unluckily happen that there could not, in the whole 
 village, be found one of even the smallest dimen- 
 sions ; however, in lieu thereof, they Inugbed, sung, 
 danced, i]uixr.ed,and got drunk, in demonstration of 
 their joy — and inducted Denis and his bride into all 
 the mysteries of the nuptial chamber, with a due re- 
 gard to the usual fumis and ccreiuonics practised on 
 the ocension. 
 
 Now Nancy, beyond the uncertain and transitory 
 poueaaion of beauty, possessed uneonimon shrewd- 
 ness and sense, and a heart teeming with all the 
 softer si-nsibilities of her sex. Al the period to 
 which we would allude, Ihe delicacy and ulayfVil- 
 ncss of her youth had bwn exchanged for the nia- 
 lurer charms, and staid demeanor of womanhood; 
 she had biH'u eight years a wife, during wliieli \v- 
 riod four cbildn-n bad blessed her union with Denis, 
 and strengthened the lies which at first linked them 
 faithfully to one another. -\s she bad bi-en in her 
 maiden days the pn ttiest and be>t girl in the village, 
 so she » as now oiiially remarkable for being the most 
 allenlivi' mother and attnehed wi fe; when others 
 lay sluggishly a-bed in the ivld winter mornings, 
 Nancy was never known indulging similar sensual 
 pru|H-usitics, but, in Ihe eiimmon parlance of the 
 ountry, was always • up and stirring ' together 
 breakfast ready lu-fore going to his la 
 
 habited, being proprietor of a small farm of seven 
 
 teen or cigbliH-n ncn-s, which had bix-n bandiHl i husband' 
 
 down, with considemble profil-r»iit. fWmi father to \ bor. The remainder of the day was occupied al her 
 
 son. 1h forx- the memory of the • oldest inhabilant ' j whivl, or in knitting stockings, or employed in 
 
 of the villap.\ Uc generally droTV half • seojx- of | some other useful thrift. In the e>-ciung she met 
 
 him with smiU'H of wi'leome niid ntrection — his ehil-l 
 dren elimbcd his knee with infantile emulntion — his 
 liiurib blaxed — his dinner Miioked luxuriftUBly be- ( 
 fore him — and even the old house-dog shared in Iho ! 
 entbusiasm of the moment, and looked as happy ual 
 the best of them. I 
 
 Thus far uU went on well. Denis prospered and! 
 grew rich — his friend, tlie priest, jiaid bis visits even 
 ofteiier than of old — and tho scpiire, who, by tho 
 way, was also the county member, hud lottorly be- 
 gun to exhibit extraordinary solicitude ubout him, 
 taking care to ask 'how his good friend, and family 
 did," whenever he chanced to meet him ut fuirs or 
 elsewhere. About this time the siiuiro's steward, a 
 Scotchnian, and gifted with even mure than his just, 
 share of national craft nnd penury, took it into higl 
 head tliut, having nmussed u considerable sum ofj 
 money, it would be a most prudent speculation toj 
 try his luck with it on the other uide of the Atlantic. 1 
 In forwnrding this ])laii, he conceived it would boj 
 highly beiielieiul to his interest if he could prevuilj 
 on a few families of comparative independence and 
 accredited industry, to acconiiinny him ; and with 
 this view had latterly begun to sound some of tho 
 better class of tho neighboring pcusuntry un the 
 subject of emigration, and, among the rest, Denis, 
 ]ly degrees he led them on, till he ut last induced 
 them to listen, witli silent admiration, to tho mighty 
 prospect of the ' Kl Dorado ' ho held out to them ;' 
 shewed letters from his friends, who had gone out 
 paupers, nnd were now driving their carriages — 
 (anglice, wheel-barrows;) and, in fact, taught them 
 to believe that the very rocks exuded with soma 
 imaginary -wenlth. The astonished rustic drank in 
 the information with the greedy ears of unlcttcrt'd 
 ignoranee, nnd gathered round tho man of words, 
 as be advanced towards their place of evening ren- 
 dezvous, under the big oak tree of the cross-roads, 
 with evident symptoms of .sjitisfiiction. Even Denis 
 cunio under the infectious iiiHuence of his machina- 
 tions, and began at length to look with a jaundiced 
 eye on the now despised luxuries of his homely cot- 
 tage, considering it u very unwise thing to fling away 
 the prospect of such amazing wealth, for tho want 
 of u little proper .spirit ; nnd, from at lirst mendy 
 listening with n degree of common inten'st to tho 
 lucubrations of the wily Scotchninn, nt last conceiv- 
 ed n distempered longing for the Yiuikce dollars. 
 He concealed, however, his wishes from his wife, 
 w bo, nevcrthclcfis secretly and with concern perceiv- 
 ed the turn bis mind had taken, but without in tho 
 least hinting her suspicions — prudently considering 
 that opposition only makes things worse. 
 
 Poor Denis loved his wife with the most tender 
 atreclion ; and, for her sake alone, had dctenninod 
 to devote himself to labor in a str.uige land, lie 
 thought it incumbent on him to pursue CMlh which 
 siH'ined so easy of access, and whicVpttoiniscd so 
 speedy an att.\iiinieiit of comfort and independence. 
 Hut, on the other band, his heart fluttered with 
 ninny w ild emotions when he considered thai they 
 could but be pun-based by a long absence fh>m all 
 he loved, and nt best but an uncertain prospect of 
 return. His days now became indolent and mood- 
 ish, and his nights |fassed in sleepless reveries— his 
 farm Ix-cnmc neglected— his corn was no longerlbc 
 most healthful and earlii-st of the .season ; and while 
 bis plough gathered rust in the out-house, his t»-<i 
 work horses cropped the scant herbage of his neg- 
 lected jwstures, in idl the iiidolcnl enjoyment of an 
 unexpcctcil holiday. 
 
 Nancy, however, still kept matters right within 
 doors ; and the more appan-nt the eonsi-quenccs of 
 his neglect became, the more strove she to conceal 
 them. His children still climbed his knee— hi- 
 hearth still blaicd— and his dinner smoked with its 
 wonted rvgiilarity before him ; jrct he wa^no long- 
 er the h.^ppy man he had been. At length one 
 evening as he s,it after dinner before the firr , enjoy- 
 ing his half hour's smoke — which, .imid all liis cares. 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 201 
 
 he Imd never omitted — he nil nt once formed tlio 
 drciulfiil resolution of informing liis wife of his wish 
 and decided intention to emiijrate. lie felt liis 
 color come nnd go ten several times during his medi- 
 tations ; nnd his determinution, like liob Acre's 
 courage, was beginning to ' ooze out fast through 
 tho tops of his fingers,' -when, tnking his pipe from 
 his mouth, and slinking oif the ashes on the hob be- 
 side hin>, he opened his mouth to eommence, when 
 B mechanical effort of his arm, returned his pipe to 
 its original position, and he smoked away some 
 minutes longer. At length, after a few preliminary 
 hems, he said ; — 
 
 'I'm beginning to think, Nancy, somehow or 
 other, that this same country is no place for n man 
 to better himself or his family in.' 
 
 'Why, thin,' rejoined Nancy, 'thank God, Denis, 
 ■we've no grent reason to complain — we're as well off 
 as our neighbors, and want for nothing." 
 
 ' Aye, but Nancy,' nnswered her husband, 'my 
 father and my grandfather, and his father before 
 him again, have all been working like slaves at this 
 little patch of ground, and here am I now in posses- 
 sion of the fruits of their exertions, and yet no rich- 
 er, nor half as rich as Mike Delany that went to 
 'Merica only two years ago as poor as a rat.' 
 
 ' Oh, thin, if that's what your for,' said Nancy, 
 ' we certainly hear great talk of riches and all that 
 with them that's going out, but you see no great 
 signs of it on them that come back.' 
 
 ' Well, well,' muttered her husband, 'at all events 
 land isn't what it used to be — our landlords are poor 
 and want high rents : we can't pay high rents, and 
 ever look to be anything better than we are.' 
 
 ' We're rich enough, Denis, honey.' said tho af- 
 fectionate Nancy, drawing her stool near her hus- 
 band, and taking his hand with a smile of love and 
 contentment ; ' we're young and strong, and this 
 fine fellow," added she, placing a chubby boy of 
 five years old on his knee, ' will soon be able to turn 
 as good a day's work as yourself." 
 
 ' Blessings on his little heart," cried the happy 
 father, as a tear half started to his eye ; ' sure "tis 
 to save you and him Nancy dear, the trouble of la- 
 boring from morning till night, just to keep soul 
 and body together, that I'd leave you at all at all.' 
 Nancy had many arguments to make use of, but 
 forgot them just in the very moment she should not 
 she remarked her husband's emotion, and shared it 
 with a genuine female sympathy ; and, as her tears 
 were not meant to affect an audience, she retired to 
 the little bed-room of the kitchen, to weep them 
 away unseen and in silence. In one or two subse- 
 quent conversations, Denis more fully communi- 
 cated his intention of joining Mr. Duncan's expedi- 
 tion, which was to sail about the middle of the 
 spring, and it was now February. In the mean- 
 while old time kept his accustomed pace, and 
 brought round the weeks and days with wonted 
 regularity. All was now in readiness for the voy- 
 age — the ship was freighted and provisioned — ini- 
 plcments of husbandry were laid in— and cattle of 
 various kinds purchased for the purpose of breeding. 
 Matters had been arranged by Denis to provide tor 
 his family's maintenance during his absence — he 
 himself, in the plcntitude of his expectations, taking 
 little more than what he calculated would set him 
 afloat in the new world ; he had also taken cure to 
 solicit the schoolmaster (at an ample premium) to 
 write an account of all that would occur, and how 
 Nancy and the children did. 
 
 It was now the day before that fixed for his de- 
 parture. Nancy bore the prospect of separation 
 with a silent sensitiveness, which was infinitely more 
 distressing than if she had given loose to her feel- 
 ings in the womanly resource of tears, and had lat- 
 terly given up all remonstrance. His plan was, to 
 walk to the nearest post town, carrying his little 
 box, which contained all the property he meant 
 should accompany him, nnd proceed from thence to | 
 
 Dublin, where he was to join Mr. Duncan, who 
 with others of his friends, liad previously gone up 
 to arrange matters. 
 
 Poor Denis grew more and more sad as the hours 
 flew (Hiickly by that now remained for him to spend 
 with liis beloved family ; yet, considering the step 
 he was about to lake us an imperative duty, he 
 never wavered in his resolution. As was custom- 
 ary in the country, he had invited all his neighbors, 
 to the number of nearly one hundred, to spend the 
 last evening of his stay amongst them with him, 
 and drink success to his undertaking. The compa- 
 ny were too benevolent and sincere in their good 
 wishes to let slip such an opportunity for testifying 
 their respect towards a man whose character for 
 probity and every other rustic virtue stood so high ; 
 they accordingly assembled at nn early hour to a 
 homely entertainment of corned beef, bacon, cab- 
 bage, and roast nnd boiled geese, ad libitum — the 
 priest sitting at the head of the table, and regulat- 
 ing their potations ; and as he wisely conceived that 
 it would befit the solemnity of the occasion to drink 
 in the direct ratio of the intensity of their grief, the 
 company, on the whole, had no great reason to find 
 fault with their master of the ceremonies, and would 
 in all probability, at their breaking up have passed 
 him a vote of thanks for ' his dignified demeanor in 
 the chair,' did it not occur that there could not be 
 found one among the afscmbly capable of either 
 proposing or seconding the resolution in sufticicnt- 
 ly coinprehensiole terms ; the host alone seemed 
 sad, and answered many a maudlin ' God bless you,' 
 with a vacant look, that plainly told how far differ- 
 ent were the subjects of his thoughts. The parting 
 hour at length came round, and the lust guest had 
 blubbered forth his compound of grief and intoxi- 
 cation upon his breast, when Denis retired with his 
 wife to enjoy the few hours of rcpose'iiow left them ; 
 their hearts were too full to speak, but falling into 
 one another's arms, the man was forgotten in the 
 husband and the father, and the sturdy peasant wept 
 like a tender girl. His trunk had been left at the 
 kitchen door, the bolt of which remained undrawn 
 us he meant to steal out softly while his wife slept, 
 and thus escape the more bitter pangs of separa- 
 tion which the sight of her tears would cause him. 
 The hazy light of the morning had begun to break 
 its way gradually through the crevices of the win- 
 dow shutters, when Denis, who had not once closed 
 his eyes, rose softly from his wife's side ; leaning 
 over her he listened to her quiet breathing, and in 
 that hopeless loneliness of heart which the prospect 
 of separation from all who arc near and dear to us 
 cannot fail to produce ; his youngest child lay in 
 her arms, and seemed mutely to chide his desertion 
 of them ; the other two lay together in a bed in the 
 far corner of the room, their little lips meeting as 
 if they loved and kissed even in their dreams ; a 
 thousand indefinable sensations rent his heart, as he 
 gazed on his infants and pictured to himself the 
 despair of their mother M-hen she would wake ' and 
 find him no more.' Still, however, his resolution 
 remuiiicd unshaken ; and, having dressed, he was 
 about leaving the room, when Nancy caught his 
 arm, (having risen unperceived from her bed) with 
 a convulsive grasp, and with her large black eyes 
 suffused with tears, that ran slowly down her cheeks 
 pale with excitement and anxiety, and a voice trem- 
 bling and broken, said : — 
 
 ' I/Ook you, Denis Costello, when you first said 
 you would leave us to go look for wealth we didn't 
 want, I did not say against you, for I saw 'twas 
 your humor; — but don't think I'll stay behind the 
 father of my children, and let him wander in a 
 strange land, and among strange people, with no 
 one to take care of him, or comfort him in sickness 
 or in sorrow — you that knew nothing but kindness 
 d love since you were the age of this creature, 
 that you'd give up all for a little gold nnd silver. 
 You may go now ; but, so help me God ! I'll never 
 
 part you till death come between us — and what will 
 then become of those poor babies that we ought to 
 love nnd stnnd by ?' 
 
 'Then," cried Denis, ns he Hung himself with 
 tears of joy on his wife's neck, 'may I never sow a 
 ridge of potatoes, but though every acre in that 
 same America was paved with gold an inch thick, 
 if I'll leave you my darling, or you, or you, ye lit- 
 tlejcwels,' as ho kissed the drowsy children all 
 around, who, being by this time awakened, were 
 looking on with astonishment at the domestic drama 
 that their parents had been acting in the middle of 
 the room. 
 
 Having stripped, Denis returned to bed the hap- 
 piest man in the parish ; and when the neighbors 
 called in the morning to condole with Nancy, they 
 found him whistling ' the cruiskeen lawn ' behind 
 his long neglected plough. 
 
 I.ittlc more remains to be said, than that Denis 
 returned to labor with renewed zeal, nnd in a few 
 years his harvests were again the best in the coun- 
 try round ; and to increase his satisfaction at the 
 conversion his wife had wrought, he was shortly 
 after this given the stewardship that Mr. Duncan 
 had held, and resigned for his trans-Atlantic specu- 
 lations. 
 
 THE KNICHTS TEMPLARS. 
 
 Having in the article on Clonturf Castle given some 
 idea of llio interesting district of Fingall, (he following 
 slight sketch of the rise, progress, and final destruc- 
 tion of the Knights Templars, to whom the Castio 
 of Clontarf formerly belonged, may not be unaccept- 
 able. 
 
 This society took its rise during the period of tho 
 first crusade at Jerusalem, about the year 1118; and 
 ahhougli formed at a period later than tho other mili- 
 tary order of the Knight Hospitallers, or of St. John 
 of Jerusalem, soon outstripped it in wealth and power, 
 and was also the earliest abolished. The name as- 
 sumed by tho knights had, according to some, a refer- 
 ence to vows entered into for the defence of the holy 
 temple ngainst infidels; and according to others, from 
 tho accidental occupation of some ehamlicrs adjacent 
 to the temple, by the original members of the order. 
 The knights were ecclesiastics; differing in this from 
 those of St. John, who although bound by strict mo- 
 nastic rules, were not in orders; their vows were very 
 strict, enjoining celiliacy, poverty, humility, and inrct- 
 ernto war against infidels; to the latter it must be ad- 
 mitted they adhered pretty steadily, but tlie former in- 
 junctions were often interpreted with great laxity. 
 Their dress in peace consisted of a long white robe, 
 having the cross of St. George on the left shoulder, 
 nnd worn after the manner of a cloak or mantle; a cap 
 turned up, such as heralds call a cap of inuintainancc, 
 covered tho head; and tho staff or abacus of the order, 
 having at its extremity an encircled cross, was borne 
 in the right hand. Their panoply in war did not differ 
 from that of the knights of that period, except tho dis- 
 tinctive cross, the badge of the order being emblazoned 
 on tho cuirass, and tho Agnus Dei was displayed on 
 their banners. 
 
 Their superior, elected for life, chosen by the order, 
 and styled the grand master, took rank as an indcjien- 
 dcnt prince. Immediately under him were tho pre- 
 ceptors or priors, each ruling over his peculiar district, 
 and subject to the grand master and the statutes of tho 
 order. Tho number of the knights" companions were 
 unlimited; they were each attended by two csr|uires, 
 who were usually candidates for admission into order, 
 into which none were enrolled but those who could 
 prove their nobdity of descent for two generations. 
 
 Their prcccptories or priories were usually sur- 
 rounded by what was called a jicculiar; that is an ec- 
 clesiastical jurisdiction, independent of tho bishop of 
 tho diocese, and were generally creeled near a river, 
 often on n slope, or at tho bottom of an eminence; 
 they were sometimes built with that jealous regard to 
 strength and security usual in the baronial residences 
 of the day, but frequently were of a moderate size, ca _ 
 
2!)2 
 
 IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 paWe of lut'ommoiliuin); Trom twenty lo thirty kniyhts; I crnl others, l>y tlie Irish at Glymk-lory, wlioii mniiy of 
 the (Irene) of the imlor, who wcr« Beooiinteil the Iwu the friiirs worn slain, ami in the yeur.i IJ'."". iiml 1301 
 lani-cs in t'liiistemlom, scrvinj; them for ranipiirts and I William <lu Kosse, the then prior, lilled the honorable 
 fosscK. Thcro was always n ehapel, and somctinios a ! situation of lord deputy of the kingdom, and in 1.102, 
 
 ehnreli attached, and the HurroundinK meadow served 
 thcni as a tilt yard and plaee ofcxereisc. 
 
 Few of these liuildinfjs have eseapid the wrcek of 
 time; many of them have merged into private resi- 
 dences, and of those whieh remain, Cloutarf Castle is, 
 we believe, the most perfect specimen extant in this 
 country. 
 
 The institution of the Kni;;hts Templars exactly 
 suited the taste of an age tinctured with all the elevat- 
 ing spirit of romance, and heightened by the spirit of 
 rcligioos enthusiasm, and the Christian world was so 
 well pleased with the unexampled valor and Christian 
 virtues displayed by the first members, that in the 
 space of 126 years from their lirst institution, they 
 were possessed of no less than nine thouj^and manors 
 in Christendom; and at the time it was determined to 
 put a period to their existence, they were in actual 
 posiicssion of sixteen thousand. 
 
 But these limes of their prosperity passed away. 
 Comiptctl by Inxury and profusion, they degenerated 
 from their austere simplicity and original purity and 
 uprightness, and instead of illuminating the world by 
 their good example, they became the model and 
 standard of every vice that could disgrace humanity. 
 Pride, covetousness, cruelty, and infidelity, aggravated 
 by every species of tyranny and oppression, were the 
 distinguishing marks of their character; and indepen- 
 dent of all authority, and trampling on all laws, hu- 
 man or divine, they became the objects of universal 
 hatred and detestation, and their character, as given 
 by Matthew Paris, fully presents the picture which Sir 
 Walter Scott has so admirably portrayed of them in 
 his novel of Ivauhoe. 
 
 Philip, King of France, was a prince naturally ava- 
 ricious and jealons of his prerogative; he beheld their 
 rising greatness with a malignant eye, and their pos- 
 sessions with envy, and taking advantage of the gone- 
 tral feeling against them, he determined, in conjunc- 
 tion with the pope, to suppress the order. 
 
 Luxury, intemperance and cnielty were crimes too 
 general in that age to bear particularly hard upon the 
 Templars — they were, therefore, accused of sorcery, 
 unnatural lusts and idolatry — charges so monstrous as 
 almost to exceed belief; but whieh were readily cred- 
 ited in that credulous age, and the people being pre- 
 possessed against them, Philip found it easy to carry 
 the iniquitous transaction through his courts; and upon 
 the proofs adduced, their estates, houses, and ctl'ccts 
 were seized, and their persons simultaneously secured 
 in castles, prisons, &c.; their estates and effects were 
 sequestered into the hands of commissioners; and the 
 grand master and several of his knights were subjected 
 to the torture, under the extremity of which they gave 
 vent to expressions which wer« wrested into a confes- 
 sion of their guilt, and they were publicly condemned 
 and burned alive in Paris, in the year 1307. 
 
 In England, Edward the Second, tempted by the 
 amazing accession of property conse<iucnt on this per- 
 secution, followed the example of Philip — the designs 
 of l>oth being alike favored by the pope. It was, 
 therefore, publicly ordained by the king and his coun- 
 cil, that all of the order throughout his dominions 
 should be seized, and in the year 1307, the order for 
 their suppression was transmitted to John Wogan, 
 Justiciary of Ireland, on the Wednesday immediately 
 after the feast of the Epiphany, enjoining him to have 
 the same executed without delay. The mandate was 
 accordingly obeyed, and on the morrow of the purili- 
 cation they were everywhere seized and committed to 
 prison — Gerald, fourth son of Slauricc, lord of Kerry, 
 being then grand master of the order in Ireland. 
 
 It does not appear that the Templars of Ireland 
 were as hardly dealt with &a those on the continent; 
 perhaps their conduct was not so flagrant; they had 
 fought and bled in defence of the English power in this 
 country; for in the year 1274, William Fitz Roger, 
 the prior of Kilmaiuham, was taken prisoner with sev. 
 
 but a few years before their ruin, he was appointed 
 chief justice of Ireland; this argues that he at least 
 was a man of unblemished reputation and acknowl- 
 edged probity, and, perhaps, may account for a degree 
 of lenity with which they appear to have been treated 
 by the authorities here, as we find the king, Edward 
 the Second, found it necessary by his writ, dated Sep- 
 tember the 2'.lih, 1309, to further command the said 
 Justiciary to apprehend without delay, all the Tem- 
 plars that had not yet been seized, and them to safely 
 keep in the castle of Dublin, together with those who 
 were before apprehended. 
 
 Their doom was not finally fixed until 1312, in 
 which year, on the morrow of Saint Lucia, the virgin, 
 the moon appeared variously colored, on which day it 
 was finally determined that the order of Knights Tem- 
 plars should be totally abolished.' 
 
 The trial of those who were seized was conducted 
 with great solemnity in Dublin, before friar llichard 
 Balybyn, minister of the order of Dominicans in Ire- 
 land; friar Philip de Slane, lecturer of the same, and 
 friar Hugh St. Leger; among other witnesses were 
 Roger de Heton, guardian of the Franciscans; Walter 
 dc Prcndergast, then- lecturer; Thomas, the abbot; 
 Simon, prior of the al)bey of St Thomas the Martyr, 
 and Roger, the prioi of the Augustinian fiiary in Dub- 
 lin. The depositions against them were weakly sup- 
 ported; yet they were not condemned, and their lands 
 and possessions of every kind granted to their rivals — 
 the Knights of St. John of Jerusalem, an order still 
 represented by the Knights of Malta. 
 
 In England many of the knights were committed to 
 monasteries, there to do penance for their supposed of- 
 fences, with a daily allowance of four pence to each. 
 The grand master was allowed two shillings per day. 
 To many of their chaplains the king allowed three 
 ]ience per day for their diet, and twenty shillings year- 
 ly for their stipend, or livery; their servants had two 
 pence per day, and inferior servants one penny, and 
 either five or ten shillings yearly for their livery; and 
 for this allowance they were to perform the same ser- 
 vices they had before done for the knights; and in Ire- 
 land the king, on petition of the master, granted the 
 manors of Kilcloglian, Crooke, and Kilbarry for their 
 support. 
 
 The possessions of the order in Ireland were very 
 considerable; they had, in addition to their chief seat 
 of Kilmainham, the prior of which sat as a baron in 
 parliament, two other commanderies in this county, 
 viz — Clontarf, which furnishes the present illustration, 
 and Baldungan, in the barony of Balrolhery, besides 
 many others in various parts of the kingdom. 
 
 In conclusion, the Knights Templars, after figuring 
 a brief space on the stage of life, and astonishing the 
 world, first by their virtues and afterwards by their 
 vices, have passed away like a falling meteor, and sunk 
 into eternal night, are now only remembered as 
 The baseless fabric of a vision.' 
 
 vnnis out of place, laborers who have no masters and 
 children whose fathers and mothers, because of the la- 
 bors necessary for their subsistence, cannot have an 
 eye over them. After this voluntary entrance, iho 
 police officers traverse the town; and send every beg- 
 gar and idle person they meet with to the house of 
 industry. 
 
 As each person crosses the threshold of the door an 
 account is taken of him for a share in the distribution 
 of the soup, bread and water. There is no need of 
 of strength or talent to give right to this barely neces- 
 sary refreshment; but afterwards every person who is 
 al)le is |>ut to work, and receives wages and an aug- 
 mentation of food. Ilis pay is proportioned to his ca- . 
 pacity; but nevertheless, it is fixed below what is given 
 in piivatc manufactories, that the bait of a little higher 
 wages may rouse the workman, and engage him, by 
 removing to a manufactory, to leave his place vacant 
 in the workhouse. Every attention Ls ]>aid to the pro- 
 per distribution of labor according to the ages of the 
 individuals. If a woman enters with live children, the 
 eldest sits down at the wheel; the second, at some 
 paces distant, picks wool or cotton; the third, whose 
 arms cannot reach to turn the wheel with one hand, 
 and to stretch out the other to carry the thread round 
 the bobbin moves the wheel, while a little comrade 
 carries the wool or cotton to the other end of tho 
 beam; the fourth child,»scarcely two years old, is in a 
 cradle, which the mother rocks with her foot; the fifth 
 hangs at the breast, and she supports it with her left 
 hand, while with the right she turns a spindle. 
 
 In some houses of industry, that the children may 
 not disturb the workmen, they are put all together in 
 the winter into a chamber, and in the summer into a 
 garden. The old women have the charge of them, 
 and divert and scold them. In the intervals between 
 the hours of labor, the mothers visit them, and those 
 who are nurses, at the proper times girc tlie little onea 
 suck. 
 
 So the days run out. At eight in the evening tho 
 doors are opened and all withdraw. They come again 
 the succeeding days, having acquired more aptitude 
 for work; or the manufactories wanting more hands, 
 the workmen quit the school of industry to attach 
 themselves to a manufacturer. In the meantime, tho 
 habit of begging is lost, and a habit of labor is formed, 
 and so he who was a degraded being, a burden to him- 
 self, and injurious to society, becomes a man useful to 
 himself and others. 
 
 FLEMISH HOUSES OF INDUSTRY. 
 
 At Strasbourg, and in most of the great towns in 
 Flanders, houses of industry are established, with a 
 view to extirpate idleness, beggary and mendicity. 
 These workhouses are iu every respect masterpieces 
 of political economy. 
 
 In one of the largest of the suppressed convents, 
 they have fixed in the kitcheii a kiln to prepare cheap 
 soups. In the rooms of the ground floor are set up 
 looms for weaving. In the galleries and sleeping 
 rooms are placed wheels and machines for spinning; 
 and where the size will admit of it, they form eating- 
 rooms, and reserve a part for chambers, in which some 
 slight works, such as plaiting of straw and making hats 
 may be performed. 
 
 At eight in the morning the gates are opened, and 
 there enter men and women of every age, who have 
 no work in the town; mothers with their families, ser- 
 
 Iiusii Soi.DiEn. — During the war in Portugal and 
 while the army was on its march to Mcridn, an 
 Irish soldier having drank rather freely, quitted the 
 ranks. He had scarcely done so, before he fell into 
 a sound sleep, from whence he did not awake till 
 very late in the evening. Alone, and in an unin- 
 habited part of the country, the poor fellow knew 
 not whither to turn himself. lie upbraided him- 
 self for his misconduct, and fancied himself already 
 condemned by a court-martial and the sentence 
 ready to be executed. To a village on his left, he 
 directed his steps, to see if some friendly individual 
 would plead for him at head-quarters. In this vil- 
 lage he was informed there were two French sol- 
 diers concealed. A thought darted across his 
 mind, that if he could get them secured, he would 
 be able to carry them into Almeida as prisoners and 
 thereby secure his pardon. In an instant he loaded 
 his musket, proceeded to the house where the 
 Frenchmen lay, disarmed them, and in two hours 
 after marched them off in triumph. Some officers 
 of the 71st regiment seeing a British soldier with 
 two Frenchmen as prisoners, coming from the op- 
 posite side of the river, where none of the allied 
 troops were at that time quartered, asked the sol- 
 dier — 
 
 ''\\Tiat men are those you have got?' 
 
 He replied, 'By St. Patrick, your honors, I can- 
 not tell, but I believe they are Frenchmen, and it's 
 myself had the devil's own work in catching them.' 
 
JIIISII MISCELLANY. 
 
 293 
 
 THE WAULS OF DERRY. 
 
 It is n melancholy reflection to an 
 individual possessing anything of 
 real patriotic feeling, that in looking 
 over the map of our Island, there is 
 scarcely a spot the contemplation of 
 which is not embittered by some 
 painful recollection to some portion 
 of the community. From time im- 
 memorial the demon of discord ap- 
 pears to have taken up his favorite 
 residence amongst us. Brother has 
 arisen against brother — and friend 
 against friend; and, in the midst of 
 the petty commotions which have 
 thus taken place, our island, which 
 appears to have been formed by 
 Providence as a spot in which as 
 much of comfort and enjoyment 
 might be experienced as on any oth- 
 er portion of the habitable globe, 
 has, age after age, presented to the 
 gazer's view, little else than one 
 continued scene of misery and dis- 
 tress. I 
 
 How different from what it now is 
 for instance, would the sensation be 
 of the various classes of our commu- 
 nity, if, in gazing on such a spot as 
 the walls of Dcrry, the reminiscence 
 were such as a Greek must experi- 
 ence in beholding Marathon or Ther- 
 mopyla;, where his forefathers chose 
 rather to form a rampart of their 
 bodies than allow the foot of a for- 
 eign enemy to pollute their native 
 soil. If in contemplating scenes in 
 which deeds of noble daring and en- 
 durance have been exhibited, equal 
 to any ever displayed by the bravest 
 
 From no other place that we know of can so just 
 a conception be formed of the manner in which the 
 chief towns and cities throughout the country were 
 fortified, in former times — as the walls, which are 
 rather more than a mile in circumference, though 
 built in the year 1617, are still in a good state of 
 preservation; and the gates and bastions still pre- 
 sent much the same appearance as they must have 
 done at the time of the siege. The walls, which 
 form a noble terrace, and are now the great prome- 
 nade for the fashionables of the city, consist of a 
 thick rampart of earth, faced with stone and flank- 
 ed with bastions — a parapet breast high running 
 round them. They are from fourteen to thirty- 
 seven yards in breadth, and from twenty to twenty- 
 five feet in height. Within the walls are four main 
 streets, the centre forming a kind of diamond or 
 square, and at the termination of each a massive 
 archway with portcullises were attached. The 
 main streets within the walls arc intersected by 
 numerous lesser streets and lanes — the houses, 
 
 • The pieffc was maintained for one hundred and five 
 days, and from the following note of tlic price of provis- 
 iona, some idea may be formed of the sufle- ings of the he- 
 sieged, and the degree of heroism wliicli animated them in 
 their refusals to surrender:— Horse flesh, each pound, one 
 shilling and eight pence; a quarter of a dog, fattened by 
 eating dead bodies, live shillings and six pence; a dog's 
 head two shillings and sixpence; a cat, four shillings and 
 sixpence; a rat fatteued by eating human flesh, one shil- 
 ling; a mouse, six pence; apouudof greaves, one shilling; 
 a pound of tallow, four shillings; a pound of suited hides, 
 one shilling; a ((uart of horse blood, one shilling; a hand- 
 ful of sea wreck, two pence; the sante quantity of chickcu 
 weed, one penny. 
 
 "When the garrison was relieved, they had only nine lean 
 horses left and one pint of meal to each man. Hunger and 
 fatigue had so prevailed aiuoug them, that of seven thou- 
 five hundred men regimented at the commencement of the 
 siege, they had then alive but about four Ihoutaud three 
 hundred, of whom at least one-fourth part were rendered 
 unserviceable. 
 
 THE ^\'EST GATE OF DEKRY. 
 
 which are built of brick, being generally of good 
 description. Outside the walls there are a number 
 of other streets, principally composed of houses of 
 a middling and poorer description — a few of a bet- 
 ter class being observable in different directions. 
 
 The view of the city of Londonderry from a lit- 
 tle distance is extremely fine. From the magnifi- 
 cent sweep which the Foyle takes around it, it ap- 
 pears as if standing on an island completely separa- 
 ted from the mainland. It is built on a hill — on 
 the very summit of which stands the cathedral, 
 with its towering spire, and being surrounded with 
 its high battlemcnted walls, has the appearance of 
 a regular fortification. The passage to the city 
 across the Foyle, is by an uncommonly handsome 
 wooden bridge, one thousand and sixty-eight feet 
 in length, and forty in width, constructed in Amer- 
 ica by Samuel Cox of Boston, brought thence in 
 the year following — the expense of it having been 
 upwards ot £11,000. In order to allow the passage 
 of vessels up and down the river, there is a draw- 
 bridge nearly midway, which is worked by ma- 
 chinery of rather a curious construction, and on 
 either side there is a footway for passengers, along 
 which a number of lamps are ranged — the entire 
 presenting a very pleasing appearance. 
 
 sons of Greece or Rome, the painful 
 feeling were not induced, that in 
 many instances the record is but one 
 of civil discord, and of party feud, 
 in which the victory achieved was 
 but the triumph of one individual 
 over another of Ihe same family, as- 
 sisted perchance by some foreign al- 
 ly — the common enemy of both — 
 who rendered his aid in the hope of 
 raising himself on the ruins of either 
 Such are the reflections which have 
 been forced upon us by the contem- 
 plation of the engraving before us 
 —a gate and a portion of the wall of 
 the city of Londonden-y, a place ren- 
 dered notorious in story, as having 
 endured one of the severest and 
 most prolonged sieges of any city or 
 town in the dominions of Great 
 Britain.* 
 
 In the beginning of the seven- 
 teenth centui-y, Sir Henry Dock- 
 wray founded the city of London- 
 derry, from which time it was es- 
 teemed a place of considerable im- 
 portance; we find however, mention 
 made of it in history so early as 5iG. 
 In the rebellion of 1606 it was sur- 
 prised, and the governor, Sir George 
 Powlett, with the entire garrison put 
 to the sword. Three years after 
 this, king James made a grant of it, 
 together with 210,000 acres of land, 
 to various companies in the city of 
 London, on the condition that they 
 should fortify Derry and Goleraine, 
 and also colonize the country w^ith 
 English settlers— &ora which circum- 
 stance the former place derived its 
 
 MAXIMS FOR THE MARRIED. 
 
 CODE OP INSTRUCTION POR LADIES. 
 
 1. Let every wife be persuaded that there are 
 two ways of governing a family ; the first is by the 
 expression of that which will belong to force;" the 
 second to the power of mildness, to which every 
 strength will yield. One is the power of a husband ; 
 a wife should never employ any other arms than 
 gentleness. When a woman accustoms herself to 
 say, she will, she deserves to lose her empire. 
 
 2. Avoid contradicting your husband. A\l\en we 
 smell of a rose, it is to imbibe the sweets of its odor ; 
 we likewise look for everything that is amiable in 
 
 woman. Whoever is often contradicted feels in- 
 sensibly an aversion for the person who contradicts, 
 which gains strength by time ; and, whatever be 
 her good qualities, is not easily destroyed. 
 
 3. Occupy yourself only with household affairs ; 
 wait till your husband confides to you those of high- 
 er importance, and do not give your advice till he 
 asks it. 
 
 4. Never take upon yourself to be a censor of 
 your husband's morals, and do not read lectures to 
 him. Let your preaching be a good example, and 
 practice virtue yourself to make him in love with 
 it. 
 
 5. Command his attention by being always atten- 
 tive to him ; never exact any thing and you will ob- 
 tain much ; appear always flattered by the little he 
 docs for you, which will excite him to perform 
 more. 
 
 6. All men are vain ; never wound this vanity, 
 not even in the most trifling instances. A wife may 
 have more sense than her husband, but she should 
 never seem to know it. 
 
 7. When a man gives wrong council, never make 
 him feel that he has done so ; but lead him on by 
 degrees to what is rational, with mildness and gen- 
 tleness ; when lie is convinced, leave hira to the 
 merit of having found out what is just and reason- 
 able. 
 
 8. ■\\nien a husband is out of temper, behave 
 obligingly to him ; if he is abusive, never retort : 
 and never prevail over him to humble him. 
 
 9. Choose well your friends, have but few, and 
 be careful of following then- advice in all matters. 
 
 10. Cherish neatness without luxury, and pleas- 
 ure without excess; dress with taste, and particu- 
 larly with modesty ; vary the fashions of your dress, 
 especially in regard to colors. It gives a change to 
 the ideas, and recalls pleasing recollections. Such 
 things may appear trilling, but they are of more im- 
 portance than is imagined. 
 
294 
 
 IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 U. Never be curious to pry into your husband's 
 concerns, but obtiii;: his confidence nt all times, by 
 thnt which you nposc in him. Always pre.MTTc or- 
 der nnd economy; avoid being out of temper, and 
 be careful never to scold ; by these menns he will 
 find his own house plensnnter than any other. 
 
 I'l. Seem always to obtain ijiforniation from him, 
 especially before company, though you may pass 
 yourself for a simpleton. Never forget that a wife 
 owes all her importance to that of her husband. 
 Leave him entirely master of his own actions to go 
 or come whenever he thinks tit. A wife ought to 
 make her company amiable to her husband, that he 
 ■nill not be able to exist without it, then he will not 
 seek for pleasure abroad if she do not partake of it 
 ivith him. 
 
 CODE or iNsinrcTiox fob gentlemen. 
 
 1. There are two ways of governing a family; 
 the first by force, the other by mild and vigilant au- 
 thority ; the first is brutal, and you certainly lose 
 your happiness in adopting it ; the second will oc- 
 casion you to be respected, and your directions to 
 b; observed. A husband deserves to lose his em- 
 pire altogether, by making an attempt to force it by 
 violence. 
 
 2. Never contradict your wife ; you never did 
 so before marriage, and do not begin it now. There 
 is something so harsh about contradiction in a man 
 that it always generates an unkindly feeling. It 
 prevents that confidence w hich ought to exist be- 
 tween married persons ; ond confidence destroyed, 
 we cannot hope for much good afterwards. 
 
 3. You cannot possibly have a better or trustier 
 confidant than your wife. She will always advise 
 for the best, and very safely too. Trust her wholly. 
 
 4. Be strictly moral in your conduct ; how can 
 you pretend to be guide to your house if you are 
 not ? Consider what you would think if your wife 
 ■would become immoral in her conduct. 
 
 5. Be as attentive in reason after marriage as you 
 were in courtship, .\ttention to your wife is re- 
 spect to yourself; it is her due, and shows clearly 
 that you do not regret your choice. 
 
 6. I'ride yourself only on those qualities which a 
 man ought to possess, and give your wife credit for 
 hers. You ought to have a manly understanding, 
 but remember that infers no superiority over the 
 lidy's. 
 
 7. When your wife has given you council, which, 
 from your knowledge of the world, you judge can- 
 not safely be acted on, do not reproach her, but 
 convince her by mild reasoning that it is inap- 
 propriate. Give her always the merit of good in- 
 tentions. 
 
 8. Should your wife be out of temper, do not see 
 it ; there arc many little vexations you know not 
 of ; never speak harshly to her, nor be rude. 
 
 n. Be careful in your choice of friends ; you have 
 one that will never desert you : cherish her. 
 
 10. Dress well according to your station in so- 
 ciety ; be neither a sloven nor a dandy. Commend 
 your wife's taste in dress, and you may keep her 
 heart as long as you like. Nothing so much secures 
 a lady's good will as this, and it is a very slight sac- 
 rifice made at the altar of her vanity. 
 
 11. Never meddle with domestic or household 
 concerns, they are not for a man's care. Be careful 
 in your expenditure, and waste nothing, though you 
 must be liberal to the poor. Never swear, nor 
 Btorm, nor blow up. Let your home be the pole 
 star of your affections, and always spend your eve- 
 nings there. 
 
 12. Always pay attention to your wife in society 
 as well as in private, and show yourself fully aware 
 of her good qualities. .4.11 your happiness is reposed 
 in her. Never show anything like indifference or 
 slight ; she will repay your kindness by that tender- 
 ness of affection which is worth all the world be- 
 side. Seek no pleasure to which she cannot be made 
 a party. 
 
 THE DVINC ENTHUSIAST TO HIS FRIEND. 
 
 Life— like a (Ionic of miiiiy-«olorf<l kIbss— 
 
 ijtuiiiK till' wliiU' imllciicc of EttTiiily, 
 
 L'lilil dcatli Iriiinples it to IVagmi'Uls.— Sliclly. 
 
 Spenk no more of life — 
 
 What cnn life bestow 
 In tills (iinpliltliratre of utrlfo, 
 
 All tiniia (lurk uitli tniKcUy nnd wnc! 
 Kiiowetit tliuii not how ciire uiid puiii 
 Ituild tlicir Imnpless dwelling hi the brain, 
 Ever fi« the Dterii intrusion 
 
 Of our teachers, Time and Trnth, 
 Turns I o gloom the bright Illusion 
 
 Itainbowcdou the soul of youth f 
 ■Wouldst thou have mc live when this is eo! 
 OhI EC— no! 
 
 As the flood of Time 
 
 Slu>;i»lily doth How, 
 Lo>k how all of lic-amine and fublimo 
 
 .Sinks into the black a' j m below! 
 Yea, the loflicft intellect 
 Earliest on the strand of death is wrecked, 
 ^'ouglIt of lovely— nothing glorious 
 • Lives to triumph o'er decay; 
 De.*olation reigns victorious — 
 
 Mind is dungeon-walled by clay. 
 Could 1 bear to feel mine own laid low? 
 OhI no — uol 
 
 O'er the troubled earth 
 
 Thronging millions go — 
 But behold how (jeuius, Love and 'Worth, 
 
 Move like lonely phantoms, to and fro.| 
 Suns are quenched, and kingdoms inll, 
 But the doom of these outdarkensall ! 
 Die they then? Yes Love's devotion, 
 
 Stricken, withers in its bloom; 
 Fond nflcctions, deep as ocean, 
 
 Ju their cradle Ond their tomb. 
 Shall 1 linger but to count each throw? 
 Oh! no— no! 
 
 Trison-bursting Death! 
 
 Welcome then, thy blow! 
 Thine is but the forfeit of ray breath, 
 
 Kot the Spirit —not the Spirit's glow! 
 'Spheres of Beauty! hallowed Spheres, 
 Indefaced by time, undimmed by tears, 
 llenccforth bail! Oh! who would grovel 
 
 In a world impure as this, 
 Who would dwell in cell or hovel 
 
 When a palace might bo his? 
 Dare I longer the bright lot forego? 
 Oh! no— no! 
 
 SAINT MONDAY. 
 
 ■S\'li3t Irishman — what Englishman — ay, what cau- 
 tious Scotchman, does not know Saint Monday? It 
 lias long been a ruinous day — except to the publicans. 
 One day of rest and relaxation is not enough — the 
 drinking and excess begun on Sunday must be fol- 
 lowed up on Saint Monday, and on Taesdny, the ex- 
 hausted mechanic returns to his employment, begins 
 graduallj to recover, and on Wednesday is in work- 
 ing order for the week. We hope this old custom is 
 breaking up — a custom so injurious to the heallli, the 
 morals, the purses, and the comfort of the working 
 classes. Every honest mechanic ought to frown on 
 the custom of keeping Saint Monday. And if every 
 sober, industrious man would combine — morally com- 
 bine — to put it down, more work woidd be done, more 
 money would be made and saved — health would be 
 preserved and lives would be prolonged. 
 
 We quote the following to show that Saint Monday 
 was not formerly, as now, peculiar to the British Is- 
 lands. 
 
 •A custom had prevailed for a long time in Germany 
 for persons who were employed in the lower kinds of 
 trade to consider Monday as a day set apart for idle- 
 ness; nor could any inducement prevail upon them to 
 apply themselves to work on that day. This was not 
 only the custom of master-tradesmen, but they also 
 indulged their journeyman and other ser'ants in the 
 same privilege. On these occasions, the common 
 people had recourse to drinking and every species of 
 debauchery. The injurious practice of keeping Blue 
 Monday, as it was called, prevailed to such a degree, 
 
 i that this day was distinguished by outrages, tumults, 
 and riots of every description. All means for restrain- 
 
 ' ing such licentious behavior were ineffectual; menaces 
 
 of punishment woro disrrgnrded, and the rioters took 
 every opportunity of abusing those who opposed them. 
 At length they dispersed the following declaration 
 throughout the principal cities of the enijiire: — 
 
 'Brethren, 
 
 'Wc inform you that no man who is a brave fel- 
 low (lin braver keil) will ever work in any city or 
 town on the Blue Monday; if he docs, he may expect 
 the consequences, and that soon. We have been under 
 the necessity of adopting this measure to preserve our 
 rights.' 
 
 This atrocious conduct excited so general an alarm, 
 that the emperor, Joseph the Second, the diet and the 
 minor potentalcs of Germany, foreseeing the baneful 
 and fatal consc<iucnces it should of necessity produce 
 in trade, published an edict, by virtue of which, not 
 only every abuse was remedied, but the custom of 
 keeping Blue Monday was entirely abolished. The 
 punishment inflicted on the delinquent was — six years 
 in irons, and hard labor durlug that lime on the fortifl- 
 cations. 
 
 In some places the journeymen at first paid no at- 
 tention to this edict; the punishment, however, was 
 immediately put into execution, and more than twenty 
 of the ringleaders experienced the force of it. The 
 other trades-people, when the execution of this rigor- 
 ous but necessary law was inflicted on iheir comrades, 
 returned to order; nnd since that salutary measure 
 took place. Blue Monday is hardly ever mentioned or 
 thought of. 
 
 LEGEND OF FIN M'COUL. 
 
 In days of yore, Cormac, son of Art ruled Ire- 
 land, nnd a hospitable prince was he. His house 
 was alwas open, many were the retainers kept in his 
 hall; and thereby, like more modern princes, his ex- 
 penses outran both his ready money and his tardy 
 credit; and he was at his wit's end how to supply 
 with meat and strong drink, those who honored his 
 quality by feeding at his expense. 
 
 After all the most obvious recipe that can occur 
 to any prince, when desirous of aggrandizing him- 
 self is to go to war with one of his neighbors. The 
 grand monarque of Tersailles, and the celestial 
 sovreign of Ashantec, have had recourse to the 
 same expedient, and why not Cormac son of Art? 
 Now, Fiachadh Muilliathan, King of JIunstcr, had 
 some fat pasture lands along the banks of the Suir, 
 which preserve their credit for fertility unto this 
 very day, and go under the name of the Golden 
 Vein; on these plentiful plains Cormac cast his 
 longing eye, assuring himself that were he once pos- 
 sessed of such mcnsal lands, he .should never want 
 a sirloin or baron of beef to grace his board. Go 
 to war therefore, he should; but withal, l-'iachadh 
 of Munstcr was potent and wise, and he valued 
 those very fields as the apple of his eye; and his 
 merry men of Ormond and Desmond, were as fond 
 of fighting as their descendants are to this very 
 day. 
 
 In this difficulty Cormac resorted for advice to a 
 Druid, who was a Caledonian; for even in these early 
 days the Scotch itched after foreign travel, and wero 
 everywhere at hand to give advice to those who could 
 pay for it; and he being an enchanter and depository 
 of old prophecies, told the king that in one of those 
 rivers that run under ground in the western land, now 
 called Mayo, and not far from that lofty monntnin, 
 now named Crough Patrick, there was a salmon, 
 which, if caught and eaten, would communicate such 
 wisdom, prowess, and good fortune to the eater, that 
 from that day forth, fume and prosperity would attend 
 him in all his wars. You may be sure Cormac lost 
 no time in setting out on his fishing excursion Into 
 Connaught, and attending to the directions of his ad- 
 viser; he came to the banks of a river that rises in the 
 mountain chain surrounding the rock of Croagh Pat- 
 rick, and pursuing that river's course through a fertile 
 vallcv, he at length came to where the turbulent stream 
 falls Into a fearful cavern, and is lost to be seen no 
 more, and whether it seeks by some unknown passage 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 295 
 
 tlio tU'pths of the ocean, or whether it plunges into tliu 
 earth's abyss and goes to cool the central fires, was 
 never yet ascertained; but dose to the jaws of this cn- 
 piilphing cavern, there is a dark, deep pool, where the 
 stream, as if in terror, whirls aliout in rapid eddies, 
 and here, amidst multitudes of fish it was supposed 
 the salmon of knowledge spent its days. On the 
 banks of this pool Cormac and his Caledonian ad- 
 viser sat day after day, and complain they could not 
 of want of sport, for many a fine fish they ennglit and 
 broiled on the live coals which they kept for their ac- 
 commodation on the bank; but still Cormac became 
 not a whit the wiser, and after feeding on salmon firm 
 and curdy enough to satisfy the 'gout' of the Lord 
 Mayor of Dublin, he at length grew so tired offish, it 
 palled so much upon his appetite that the Milesian 
 monarch began to sigh after the fat mutton that the 
 broad jiastures of Tara supplied. 
 
 At length the fish were caught with such rapidity, 
 that if he got thereby the wisdom of Solomon, he 
 could not be brought to taste of every one taken in 
 this populous pool. And now he and his adviser 
 presumed to make selections ; and applying the ar- 
 bitrary princiijlcs of physiognomy to fish, ventured 
 to throw back some into the stream, while others, 
 as more plump and well ftivored, were elected to 
 the honor of being brolicd ; and here mcthinks the 
 discretion of the King and his Druid was not evinced ; 
 for many a time and oft, ugly heads contain capa- 
 cious brains, and sleek skins fail to enclose shining 
 intellects ; so it proved here, for one evening a lit- 
 tle fish was taken — a poor, long, lank, sjjent thing, 
 with a hooked snout, just such another as a poacher 
 spears by the light of a blazing wisp of potato 
 stalks, on a dark night in October. Now who 
 would suppose that any one who had his pick and 
 choice would think of feeding on a spent salmon ; so 
 this good-for-nothing fish was thrown on the bank, 
 leaving it to its own fancy to bounce and wriggle 
 back into the river ; and just as it was in the very 
 act of eloping into the stream, an idle ' gorsoon' who 
 was looking on, caught it by the gills, and says he 
 to himself, ' thoitgh this be not plump enoueh for a 
 King's palate, it may not come amiss to me,' so 
 choosing a snug place behind a rock, just within 
 the cavern's mouth, he blew up a fire and set about 
 to broil his fish. 
 
 Now it is time to tell who this boy was, for ques- 
 tionless, his match Ireland has not produced from that 
 day to this. No one else he was than the famous Fin, 
 the son of Cumhall, and grandson of Trein the Big, 
 w 10 wa5 sent to these shores of the Western Sea, from 
 his native halls of Almhuin, in order to save him from 
 the enchantments of the tribe of Morni, that sought to 
 take his life, and here he lived sporting along these 
 wiUJ hills, and here he might have died, unknowing 
 and unknown, were it not for the circumstance I now 
 record; thank, therefore, he may, his stars, that he was 
 not so sciueamish in the choice of a fish as King Cor- 
 mac; so having Ht up his fire, he was not long in clap- 
 ping his salmon, all alive as it was, on the coals; for, 
 alas, sportsmen as well as cooks, think little of the 
 pain they may inflict on fowl or fish, and thus on the 
 live coals the poor animal was not long, until a great 
 swelling blister arose by the force of the hre, on its 
 heretofore bright and silver side; and Fin seeing the 
 the broiling salmon, was uneasy, not at its sufferings, 
 but in apprehension lest all the nutritious juices of 
 his game should he wasted in the fire, if the blister 
 should rise any more; so pressing his left thumb to it, 
 he caused it lo burst, and the said thumb feeling a 
 sensation of burning, he claps it into his mouth to 
 cool; and oh, what a change — he, who until that mo- 
 ment was as little troubled with knowledge as with 
 care, and, as the saying is, 'knew not a B from a bull's 
 foot' — the instant his thumb came between his teeth 
 he felt as wise and prudent as if he was a hundred 
 years old — all his future glories — all the failures of his 
 foes, and all his own achievements flashed before his 
 eyes, and he saw prospectively how that Ireland and 
 Caledonia would ring with his fame, and both con- 
 tend for the honor of giving him birth. 
 
 Thus it was that Fin M'Coiil instead of King Cor- 
 mac, happened on the salmon of knowledge; and time 
 and your patience, good reader, would fail mo, to re- 
 connt all his succeeding renowned deeds. 
 
 A Remakkablb Instance of Fanaticism. — The 
 structure of the brain, and the investigation of the 
 phenomena connected with matter and mind, have 
 long employed the researches of the most celebrated 
 philosopliers. A Mr. Herman Goltz passed many 
 years in anatomical investigations of the brain, and in 
 endeavoring to trace the connection between its mar- 
 vellous and its important uses. At last despairing of 
 attaining the end of his long and wearisome investiga- 
 tions, he hung himself in his dissecting room, and was 
 nearly devoured by the rats before his loss was dis- 
 covered. His work on the topoghraphy and nomen- 
 clature of the cercbreal mass is still extant, though of 
 the utmost rarity. Before he committed suicide, he 
 wrote on a slip of paper the following remarkable 
 words: 'For more than twenty years I have pursued a 
 phantom— an ignis fatuus — that has decoyed me into 
 misery and ruin: My vision has become so dim that 
 I can no longer distinguish the objects of my research 
 — my hand is too tremulous to hold tne scalpel. Con- 
 fined in this chamel house, I have been estranged from 
 nature's fair and inviting prospects — I have cultivated 
 no man's friendship, nor sought the atFection of wo- 
 men. I have, indeed, read of the charms of society, 
 the exhilarations of wine, the delights of domestic 
 partner, and the blessedness of children; but I have 
 been a solitary student; water has been my only bev- 
 erage; no female can reproach me with attachment, 
 nor can a child curse me for its existence. To live 
 longer is useless — the past has been misemployed, the 
 present is wearisome, and I will anticipate the future!' 
 — The Doctor. 
 
 AsTiauiTY OF Smoking inIkelahd. — The custom 
 of smoking is of much greater antiquity in Ireland 
 than the introduction of tobacco into Europe. Smok- 
 ing pipes made of bronze are frequently found in 
 our Irish tumuli, or sepulchral mounds of the most 
 remote antiquity, and similar pipes made of baked 
 clay are discovered daily in all parts of the island. 
 A curious instance of the bathos in sculpture, which 
 also illustrates the antiquity of this custom, occurs 
 on the monument of Donogh O'Brien, king of Tho- 
 mond, who was killed in 1267, and interred in the 
 abbey of Corcumroe, in the county of Clare, of 
 which his family were the founders. He is repre- 
 sented in the usual recumbent posture, with the 
 short l^ipc or dudeen of the Irish in his mouth ! 
 
 P. 
 
 A DAY'S RAtMBLE ON THE NORTH SIDE LF 
 THE CITY. 
 
 Keader — Should you have a desire to diverge from 
 the confined and fetid atmosphere of our crowded me- 
 tropolis, with its unvaried scene of bustle and activity, 
 to enjoy the relaxation of an agreeable morning or 
 evening's ramble in a delightful district, and inhale 
 the pure and vivifying air of the country, impreg- 
 nated with the balmy fragrance of the sweet wild 
 flowers of the field, come with us to Fingall, where 
 you can enjoy the sea-breeze of Clontarf, a ramble by 
 Merino, or a saunter on the Goose-green road, without 
 experiencing the suffocation or the aunoyance occa- 
 sioned by the driving of the jaunting-cars, jingles, &c., 
 on the opposite side of the city — the danger of being 
 overrun by a drunken jarvey from Baggot street, 
 or the fatigue of a long walk, to breathe in country 
 air. 
 
 The north side of Dublin may truly be termed clas- 
 sic ground. In former ages it was the scene of many 
 fierce contests, some of which occupy a proud page in 
 Irish history. Fingall, the land of the white stranger, 
 a name which it still retjuns, was obtained from having 
 boon possessed by the Fionn, Gael, or Norwegians, 
 
 who held in their iron grasp a great portion of tho 
 kingdom for two or three centuries. The district so 
 named extended, according to Lanigan,from the l)rond 
 and fertile plain that stretches north of the LifTey, 
 until it meets the highlands that hang over the Boyne. 
 The district is now one of the most beautiful and 
 imprgved about Dublin. It is one delightful, wide- 
 spreading plain, studded with elegant seats, and no 
 straggling, disorderly villages to mar tlic beauty of tho 
 prospect; with Dublin Bay, the bold and rugged prom- 
 ontory of Howth and Ireland's Eye — the residence of 
 the sons of Nessan, in the prospective. 
 
 The Goose-green road, which strikes into the coun- 
 try from the Richmond road, is but a short distanco 
 from Drumcondra bridge; fifteen minutes walk will 
 bring you to it from Mounijoy square, by Drumcon- 
 dra or Ballybough. Opposite this road, on the town 
 side of the Tolga,* which rolls along calmly and un, 
 broken, save by the cascade at Waterfall avenue, is 
 Fortex grove, the late picturesque retreat of Frederick 
 .Jones, Esq., formerly patentee and manager of the 
 Crow street Theatre. 
 
 Passing up a gentle ascent to the left, on an emi. 
 nence stands Clonturk house, a plain, yellow building, 
 celebrated as the residence of the enterprising Dhuval, 
 who speculated on converting this place into a second 
 Vauxhall. Here he had fire-works, rockets, bombs, 
 swing-swangs, hobbies and a mineral well. Oh, the 
 reminiscences of 1819. The well, by the aid of sul- 
 phur, nails, old iron, &c., &c. was made to possess a 
 chalybeate quality; and never were Abernethy or St. 
 John Long more sought after. Crowds of belles and 
 beaux, the hale, and the unhealthy, came to taste 
 those halcyon waters; and ohl the bright eyes that 
 glistened around that fount of health and life. Poor 
 Dhuval! whilst your speculations lasted, what an able 
 auxiliary thou wert to Gretna and old Hymen. Op- 
 posite Clonturk house, on the left, is Belvidere, the 
 seat of Sir Cogbill Coghill, a handsome brick building, 
 formerly occupied by Lord Chancellor LifFord; and on 
 the right, Dramcondra castle; a square castellated 
 building, the residence of Richard Williams, Esq., for- 
 merly inhabited by Sir James Galbraith. Further on 
 to the left is Drumcondra house, a magnificent square 
 building, of Portland stone, erected by the late Earl of 
 Charleville, now in the occupation of William Stewart 
 Hamilton, Esq. Further on, at a serpentine curve in 
 the road is Hampton lodge, the residence of Mrs. Wil- 
 liams, widow of the late Thomas Williams, Esq., sec- 
 retary to the bank of Ireland. The neatly-cropped 
 hedges, nicely-gravelled walks, and precise arrange- 
 ment of the grass-plots, give these well regulated 
 grounds a neat " appearance. At some distance for- 
 ward, down an avenue which strikes ofl' an another 
 turn in the road, is Upton Lodge, formerly occupied 
 by Blajor Upton. From this fonvard, and, indeed, in 
 general, the road wears the appearance of an extensive 
 walk in a nobleman's demesne; not a cabin is to be 
 seen, while tall rows of stately trees overhang and 
 meet across the road, A few perches fonvard from 
 Upton Lodge, beyond a square ivy-covered observato- 
 ry, a few figures, rudely carved on the trunks of three 
 trees, mark the spot on which a young lad, assistant 
 "■ame-keeper to Lord Charlemont, some time sin(0 
 lost his life in a scufllc with a young gentleman who 
 had been shooting in his lordship's demesne, which 
 lies a short distance to the eastward of this road. A 
 cairn of stones, according to ancient custom was raised 
 on the spot where he fell, but has been removed. Tho 
 road now ascends in a gentle accUvity, at the top of 
 which, to tho left, is Sion hill, the residence of Mrs. 
 Courtney, formerly occupied by Colonel Mason. It 
 is an antique brick building, commanding a magnifi- 
 cent view of Dublin, the AVicklow mountains and the 
 Park. 
 
 Opposite to it is High Park, tho residence of Robert 
 Grey, Esq., a respectable merchant in Linenliall street. 
 Tho house is a very tasteful building, and the grounds 
 judiciously and tastefully laid out; the late Master 
 
 ' Commonly calJeU tho Finglass river. 
 
IRISH MISCELLAM. 
 
 CI.ONTAKF CASTLE, 
 
 Ball, and Alajor Brownrijig were succe.'sivcly proprie- 
 tors of this place. Next to IIi;:h Park is Ilarifield, 
 the residence ol" Ncal John O'Neil, Esq. This house 
 was erected by the late Colonel Hart, from whom it 
 passed, ahont the year 177.'!. into the possession of the 
 family of the late Ilagh Hamill, of Dominick street, 
 Esq., uncle to the lady of its present proprietor. The 
 hi(;h castellated walls and emlirasnrts by which the 
 approach on the front is paardcd, althouji a modern 
 house, carry the mind instinctively to the contempla- 
 tion of the scenes of strife that shook those plains in 
 other days, amid the war-cries of the native Irish and 
 their Danish invaders. 
 
 Next to Iliirtfield, on the opposite side, is Thorn- 
 dale, the handsome resilience of David Ilenry Slier 
 rard, Esi|., formerly occupied by Jlrs. Twifrg, of Mcr- 
 rion sqnarc. Ne.xt we come to Belleficld, a beautiful 
 cottage lately occupied by the Hon. M^jor Jones, op 
 
 positc to which is Elm I'ark, the residence of 
 
 llutton, Esq., of Summerliill. The next, and last in 
 this direction, is Beaumont, the beautiful seat of Ar- 
 thur Guiness, Esq. 
 
 But it will he considered almost time to say some- 
 thing relative to the Castle of Clontarf, the engraving 
 of which lies before us. 
 
 What Irishman has not heard of Clontarf; and who 
 is it do-s not feel his pulse beat high, his brow elevate, 
 and his soul expand with conscious pride and exulta- 
 tion at the recollection of the glorious struggle which 
 look place at this spot? when, after a well fought 
 battle, the gallant Brian Boiromhc drove the ))roud 
 invaders — the enemies of his country — before liim into 
 the sea, or strewed the surrounding shore with their 
 lifeless bodies. 
 
 The Castle of Clontarf, it is commonly snppo.sed 
 was erected in the reign of Henry the Socmd. by the 
 Nettcnille family, and was originally a commandcn' 
 of the Knights Templars. It still retains from the in- 
 troduction of Gothic windows, a semi-ccrlesiastical ap- 
 pearance, and so far coincides with the character of 
 that order; and although it has sulTered considerably 
 rom the ifFccts of modern improvement, yet its general 
 character and the noble and venerable timber that sur- 
 rounds it, impress it with the stamp of 'hoar antiqui- 
 ty;' and the recollections associated with its name and 
 former destination, make it an object of peculiar inter- 
 est to the Irishman and antiquarian. 
 
 The village ol Clontarf is situated two miles from] 
 Dublin, on the shores of the deligblfiil bay. It con- 
 sists chiefly of a long street, extending from the sea- 
 shore to the castle, and forming a nolile vista in front 
 of that building. At a short dist,ince was situated 'a 
 royal charter school,' opened in 1749 for the reception 
 of one hundred boys, but now close d forever; and the 
 building, which was ornamented with a fine portico 
 and pillars, tower, cupola, clock, S:c., is now converted 
 into private dwellings. Near the castle st.ands the 
 church, erected on the site of a monastery founded 
 A. D. 5.^0; a neat, plain, modem struclurc; in the 
 cemetery attached are several enclosed tombs, but no 
 ancient inscriptions. 
 
 It was in the year 838 that the 'Northmen' first in- 
 vaded this country. They entered the LIffey with a 
 fleet of sixty sail, and took possession of Dublin. The 
 dubhga;l, (the 'dark strangers,') or Danes, possessed 
 themselves of the southern parts, and the fion-gcul, 
 ('while strnngeis.'^ or Norwegians, extended them- 1 
 selves northward. Previous to their invasion this dis- 1 
 trict wcs called Brcgh, and possessed by a peo])le de- 
 nominated the Bregii. In S9fi, Flanagan, king of 
 Brcgh, was killed by the Danes. From thence up to 
 the eleventh century Fingnll was the scene of contin- 
 ual struggles between I he Danes and the native Iri-ii. 
 It was reserved for the renowned monarch, Brian Bo- 
 roimbe, on the memorable plains of Clontarf, in 1014, i 
 to break their power. ] 
 
 Of this celebrated conflict, in which Brian and his j 
 son lost their lives, it is unnecessary here to mention 
 any of the particulars further than to stale that it was ' 
 occasioned by Maelmurry Mac Morrogh, son of i\Iur- 
 chart, who usurjied the crown of Leinstcr in the year 
 999, having in lOl.'t, with the Logenians and Dane*, i 
 entered Meath and ravaged it. Maelseachlin, in retal- 
 iation, set fire to the adjacent pans in Leinstcr, and 
 ravaged Kingall as far as the Ilill of Howih, where he 
 was met and defeated by Maelmurry and Sitric, the 
 Danish king of Dublin. 
 
 Brisn marched from Monster to his assistance, and 
 encamped at Kilmainham, where he remained from 
 Kilmainham, where he remained from August to 
 Christmas without bringing them to battle, and re- j 
 tired again to Munster, but returned in the following , 
 Lent, and passing by Finglass encamped at Clonturk, 
 until Good Friday, 1014, when the battle took place on 
 the plain at Clontarf. The result of tliis battle did not 
 
 immediately extinguish the Danish power in Irelandj 
 for we find that in 10.')2, Maelnambo plundered Fin- 
 gall, and burned the country from Dublin to a place 
 named Albene. The Danes of Dublin made opposi- 
 tion, and a fierce engagement took place outside of the 
 fortress of Dublin,* where many fell on both sides. 
 Eaehmarcash, son of Heginald, I ord of the Danes, 
 fled across the sea, and Maelnambo assumed the lord- 
 ship of the Danes. 
 
 In 11()2 Mortough O'Loughlin plundered Fingall.t 
 
 The early cc.:lesiastical establishments in this dis- 
 trict, within the more immediate vicinity of Dublin, 
 are St. Doolagh's, on the Malahide road, which is one 
 of the most ancient churches in Ireland.} It was 
 erected by St. Donlacb or Dulech, an Irishman, son 
 of Amalgad. It was anciently called Cloehar. 
 
 In fifiS, the year of the great pestilence in Ireland, 
 St. Malaga (Molua) had a church and religious estab- 
 lishment at a place cnlled Laorn-bcachaire, in Fingall, 
 near Dublin. It is copjectured the site was in the now 
 townland of Clonlurk, and within the demesne of 
 Drumcondra h'nise, the residence of William Stewart 
 Hamilton 5 There is still in existence there the ruin 
 of an old "church, which tradition says was an abbey; 
 but ancient ecilesiastieal writings do not set forth any 
 abbey in Fingall so near Dublin: with the exception 
 of St. Mary's Abbey, near the Lifl!"ey. It is supposed 
 to have been erected in 948 by the Danes, for Benedic- 
 tine monks. 
 
 Balldoyle, Raheny, and I'ortranc were given to 
 Christ Church, as appears by a document in the black 
 book belonging to it, which runs thus: — 'Sitricus, King 
 of Dublin, son 1 1 Ableb, (Aulof,) Earl of Dublin, gave 
 to the Holy Trinity, and to Donaius, Bishop of Dub- 
 lin, a place where the arches or vaults were founded, 
 to build the church of the Holy Trinity on, together 
 «iili following lands, \h., BallduUk, Uechen, and 
 rorlnahern, \\ith their villains, cattle, and com.' In 
 H'14, Donatus was named bishop of this see. 
 
 * III a map of Dnblin of 1010, 'Fiann's castle is shown at 
 the verge of the Lifley, opposite 'Wood quay. 
 
 t Jlortough was prince of Tyrone and mouarch of Ire- 
 land, of the lly-Xial line. 
 
 ; I.nnigan, b'i. p So9. 
 
 ^ To this place we shall have uecaiii 
 more particularly. 
 
 hereafter to allude 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 297 
 
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 'CnoppY.' We believe it was that gentleman who wrote 
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 cd accordingto the English version and in very bad metre, 
 expressed a couplet which tended, for a long time, to keep 
 up the civil wars in Ireland : 
 
 rut your trust in God, my boys 
 And keep your powder dry. 
 
 'Esquirer,' Boston. It does not seem to be properly 
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 but most are inclined to believe his birth occurred at Dan- 
 gan Caftle, in the latter place. He was for some time mem- 
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 IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 BOSTON, SATURDAY, JUNE 19, 1858 
 
 WAR OR PEACE. 
 
 In discussing the doin^rg of tlie Styx, Buzznrtl and other 
 British vessels in the Gulf of Mexico, the numerous, and 
 for the Inst fifty years, unprecedented insults nud outrages 
 committed upon our flag and nation, wc have endeavored 
 to convince our readers that the chances of war between 
 this country and England, were doubttul and very uncer- 
 tain indeed. They will remember that we stated in our 
 first article on this subject, that on the question of war with 
 Great Britain, we had little confidence in James Buchanan, 
 because— and only because — he had been a Minister at the 
 court of Victoria and had done his share in pandering to 
 the pride of that haughty and imperious nation. 
 
 On seeing the spirit which pervaded the Senate, from the 
 highest nigger-driver ol the South, to the most pious nig- 
 ger-worshiper of the North, we confess we began to think 
 we had mistaken the national spirit of the politicians— that 
 they possefsed more pluck and patriotism than we gave 
 them credit for— that now, at last, England would find she 
 had reckoned without her host. 
 
 A month has transpired, and where, we ask, is the war 
 with Great Britain now? Did we not assure our readers 
 that the only chance of war rested upon a colJision taking 
 place between one of our national vessels, and the Styx or 
 Buzzard, and that that collision would also depend upon 
 the instructions given to the commanders of our vessels in 
 the Gulf? 
 
 Ko collision has taken place. Not one of the guilty ves- 
 sels has been overhauled; and why? This is diificult at 
 present, to answer; but we feel an intense desire to learn 
 the nature of tlie instructions given to our commanders in 
 the Gulf by the Executive. We feel anxious to know if 
 those instructions were such as we had a right to expect 
 from the Chief Magistrate of a powerful nation like this. 
 Were they such as the nation did expect from a govern- 
 ment with Lewis Cass for its Secretary of State? Were 
 they of such a nature as would not only prevent a 
 recurrence of those outrages, but to take prompt satisfac- 
 tion for those previously perpetrated? We shall see. 
 
 We confess we ha^'C our fears upon the matter; at all 
 events the question has now passed out of the hands of our 
 seamen into those of diplomatists, and instead of shell and 
 red hotshot, we si a'l have red tape; instead of the 'long 
 range' we shall have long yarns. The truth is, we lack the 
 spirit requisite to vindicate the honor of the nation. Our 
 statesmen do not take a broad, comprehensive and high 
 minded view of these insults. Like the quarels which take 
 place among themselves, and which nothing but blood 
 would seem to satisfy, they pocketthe most outrageous per- 
 sonal abuse, and express themselves 'jjcrfectly satisfied' 
 with the 'apology' of the offending party! 
 
 Now, we submit, there are insults and outrages committed 
 upon nations, as well as upon individuals, which no apolo- 
 gy can atone for. and that the firing into and searcliing of 
 our Hliips, is an insult— an outrage so grevious against the 
 freedom and dignity and honor of the nation, that nothing 
 less than the immediate punishment of the guilty parties: 
 that is, the sinking of the ofTeiidiug vessel ought to satisfy 
 the wounded honor of our people. 
 
 Vet we are told that England will 'apologise.' No doubt 
 of it. We told our readers three weeks ago, that she 
 would. But ought an apology satisfy our government? 
 If a gang of nifhans with arms in their hands, should sur- 
 round our dwelling house, fire into it, menace its occupants 
 with death, then force into it and search it, should we be 
 content with an 'apology' from the guilty scoundrels who 
 had dared thus to violate the sanctity of our home? What 
 shQuId wc think of a man who would accept this kind of 
 entisfaction as a sufficient atonement for such an outrage? 
 
 Now wherein is the dilference between the nation and the 
 individual? la it a less offence to violate the sanctity of tho 
 inition, than that of a private person? Are a series of in- 
 sult-* to the whole country more easily atoned for than an 
 insult to a single citizen? Is the sanctity of one home ot 
 more consequence than the sanctity of the homes of twenty 
 five millions of people? This would seem to be the logic 
 of the defenders and apologists of these British outrages. 
 Is the government prepared to adopt this logic and stamp 
 upon it the seal of it^ approbation? 
 
 The various writers upon international law, lay it down 
 as ft principle that the ship is a part of the territory of the 
 nation to which she belongs If this is correct, then our I 
 
 territory has been invaded by the armed olficials of a for 
 eign government, and an 'apology' JHto atone for it! 
 
 We hope this great Uepublic has not descended so low as 
 this. Wetrusttlmt the satisfaction which England would 
 enforce against tills country, under similar circumstances, 
 will be enforced against her now. If the late speeches in 
 the Senate were not all Buncombe— If they were not inten- 
 ded for political effect— if our government is not a sham, 
 then the honor of the nation will be vindicated, the outra- 
 ges upon it resented with a spirit worthy o( freemen and 
 England be taught a lesson more durable and lasting than 
 that given by Jackson at New Orleans. 
 
 We fear that, however ready our government may be to 
 go to war with Spain, or Mexico or I'araguay, or any other 
 weak and paltry power, it has not the pluck to lace Eng- 
 land upon her own element, or resent, as Jackson would 
 have done, the outrages of the great bully of the East. 
 Time will determine. 
 
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298 
 
 IRISH MISCELLAlSy. 
 
 Written for llip Mi«-i-llniiy 
 AN EXILE'S THOUGHTS. 
 
 DV JIOMOKIA. 
 
 Away ItiOM tbouglita whlcliMV«y thy bn'net, 
 
 Tliy weary, IroubU-il nuul bo villi, 
 And bill llio wratbftil tcnipt-iit rrat, 
 
 ^VliicU luakus ttiy bunoin chill. 
 
 ForgoHen nil thOHc tlrcnmn nboulil be, 
 
 Which buiinil thfo onco with iiiB^ic chain; 
 Kor moan those timci', when wildly t>ee 
 Thou roamed thy native plitiD. 
 
 What thonKli the bo|W8 be blih'hteil now. 
 
 Which onco were warm, and gay and bright? 
 Though mark! of Nidnesno'er thy brow 
 Have dimmed their rosy light I 
 
 you »ay you weep for Joys long gone— 
 
 Your dearest friends you've left behind; 
 That you an exile here alone, 
 
 Nor peace nor rect can find. 
 
 Tou sigh, and long to live again 
 
 Those days of sweet and simple youth, 
 When naugfct you knew of care or paiu, 
 Uut hope, and juy and truth. 
 
 An exile's lot is hard, 'tis true- 
 In crowds he still Is nil alone; 
 TbouKb scenes more fair his eyes may view, 
 No country docs he own. 
 
 Still, still his yearning, longing thought 
 
 Transports him back unto that land, 
 Whose freedom he has ever sought 
 
 To win, with heart and hand. 
 
 Then live, and strive to work that end. 
 
 And labor on, unceasing ever, 
 Kor to ba.~e thoughts thy S|iirit bend. 
 
 But work, unite, des^pair — O never. 
 
 Kol while thine orm can wield a brand- 
 While freedom's lire yet burns in thee, 
 There still is hoi>e, thy native laud 
 A Kation yet may be. 
 
 From the Irish Literary C;azettce. 
 THE TWO PATRIOTS. 
 
 There stood n blue-eyed, fair-haired boy 
 
 Beside his mother's knee, 
 llis hands a goodly volume held — 
 
 'Twos Krin's history; 
 'Mamma, I'll read,' the youngster said, 
 
 'That famous tale of yore— 
 How llrian broke the Danish yoke, 
 
 On Clontarrs sandy shore. 
 
 It must have been a glorious eight' — 
 
 ■It was my child,' quoth she, 
 'To view, with banners, swords and spears, 
 
 old Erin's chivalry 
 In full career sweep proudly o'er 
 
 That memorable iilain. 
 "Wbile wild and high arose the cry — 
 
 I>eath: death unto the Dane! 
 
 but it was a gallant sight! 
 And yet a saddening one: 
 
 Though victory crowned King Brian's arms, 
 
 Alas! 'twas dearly won ; 
 >'or In his tent where Brian sat— 
 
 Too old to join the strife — 
 Some coward baud, with murderous brand, 
 
 Bereft him ol his life.' 
 
 'Base, cruel foes, mamma , they were, 
 
 The poor old king to kill, 
 II I had been a man and there. 
 
 His blood they should not spill. 
 To shield the aged monarch's life, 
 
 1 would the wretches light. 
 For scripture says that tiod always, 
 
 3Iamma, defends the right. 
 
 But if my sword preserved theking. 
 
 How proud, mamma, I'd be, 
 '^Yhen he before Wis warriors bold 
 
 Would praise my loyalty 
 Or if I failed bis life to save, 
 
 I'll tell you what I'd do. 
 Then bravely I would lighting die 
 
 Along with King Born. 
 
 1 hope that they who murdered biin 
 Did not unpunished go; 
 
 Kejoiced r<l be to.hear, mamma, 
 The cowards 'were laid low.' 
 
 'Ills death, my child, was well avenged. 
 
 As well it ought to be, 
 Kor every Dane who was not slain 
 
 Ditl perish in the sea. 
 
 And Denmark did long, bitterly, 
 
 That bloody tight deplore; 
 Her bravest sons were strown that day 
 
 Like pebbles on the shore. 
 That morn they werea gallant host. 
 
 That eve a ghastly crowd, 
 The ocean's swell— their funeral knell, 
 
 I'he ocean wraik— their shroud! 
 
 And now, my child, the story read. 
 
 The text 1 shall explain. 
 Well-pleased, I know, you'll be to hear 
 
 How Brian beat the Dane. 
 And centuries since have floated by 
 
 On Time's im]>etuous wave. 
 But Krin does not yet forget 
 
 The memory of the brave.' 
 
 r^ The following 'Notes' are from the journal of 
 a correspondent in I,owelI, who recently visited his 
 native country: — 
 
 Written tor the Miscclhuiy. 
 
 NOTES FROM A JOURNAL. 
 
 iiY J. E. r. 
 
 No. 1 — Blarney Castle. 
 
 On a warm day in Inst July, my fellow-tourist 
 and the writer, left Cork to visit the far-famed 
 lilarney Castle, a distance of four miles from the 
 city. Before examining the castle, we were shown 
 through the beautiful 
 
 groves of Blarney 
 
 That arc so charming;' 
 and found them indeed all that the poet says. 
 Here are many objects of curiosity, and among 
 them the Uruidieal altars, and the -vvitchcs stairs, 
 the latter said to be natural, and the lucky visitor 
 here is said, if he wishes while descending, to have 
 his wish granted by the spirits of the witches ivho 
 hover around them. If this is so, are not we lucky 
 dogs? Leaving 'sweet llockclosc,' as it is more 
 properly called, ive crossed the road and summon- 
 ed the old woman who kept the key of the castle to 
 open its door, which by the way, is a curiosity, for 
 there is scarcely an inch of it left whole from the 
 constant cutting of nam(Ts on it by visitors, and 
 among the rest I noticed the name 'Millard l''ill- 
 more, Ex-1'resident of the U. S.' The door opened 
 — we rushed up the winding stairs, and stopped not 
 until we reached the highest point; and here, care- 
 fully plastered roiuid, is a flat stone, the world re- 
 nowned 'Blarney stone,' so well known, owing to 
 the legend, -which gives to the person kissing it, a 
 freer use of the tongue, (the softer sex have no need 
 to kiss it.) If he happens to be a man, he has the 
 privilege thereafter, of kissing whom he pleases. 
 Bearing this in mind, -we kissed the stone at least a 
 dozen tinies, and I am of the opinion we left our 
 mark on it, so hard was it 'smacked.' Cromwell, 
 in his work of destroving the splendid castles of 
 Ireland, seems to have visited Blarney. There are 
 a number of parapets near the top of the castle,and 
 his soldiers made a breach in one of these. This 
 was in a tottering condition for many years, and its 
 present owner, I believe, caused two iron bars to be 
 fixed, to support the large stone that the parapet 
 rests on. Many visitors seeing this stone, suppose 
 it to be the real Blarney stone, and endanger their 
 lives by kissing it, as the greater part of their body 
 1 a 8 over the castle, and their -whole weight is on 
 the breach. My companion, a Yankee, for fear of 
 missing the right one, kissed this, and with all my 
 Irish blood, when I got within an inch of it I gave 
 it up. The rooms in the castle did not differ mate- 
 rially from others we had seen, so we did not stay 
 long among them. 
 
 Upon coming out, the old woman -who acted as 
 cicerone, told us it was customaay to kiss her, after 
 kissing the Blarney stone. Here was a poser. The 
 woman was over 40, ugh! and not a bit good look- 
 
 ing, and we were asked to ki.ss lier. This too, after 
 all the bright visions we called to mind when kiss- 
 ing the atone, of pretty faces and rosy lijis with 
 whom hereafter we should have no trouble, ilow- 
 ever, we thought it miglit be ungallant in us not to 
 go through the ordeal, but she generously forgave 
 us the pennanee if we would give her n shilling. 
 Ye stars! hero was luck. Money was never paid 
 with greater zest than was that, and our tongues, 
 which were never to be mute after rubbing them to 
 the stone, could not find words to thank our cice- 
 rone. I would iiuggest to Mr. Jefl'ries, the owner of 
 the castle, tlie propriety of having a younger woman 
 for conductress, and then there would be less shil- 
 lings! 
 
 [To be Continued.] 
 
 ■Written for the Irish MiKcellany. 
 INK DROPS: 
 
 PKOM THE riCN OF THE 'QIEER COVE.' 
 
 No. 7. — Shakspeare's Irishman— and ' sich like.' 
 I say it, and with grief too, Mr. Editor, that few, 
 very few, of that class of readers who call themselves 
 Shakspcarian Scholars, are aware that the ' great 
 bard ' numbers an Irishman among his characters, 
 and yet, sir, such is the fact. As an excuse for 
 these ' scholars,' I must say, however, that their 
 knowledge of the works of the immortal 'William, 
 arc derived wholly from the acting editions, — jum- 
 bled up messes, hashed up for effect, by such indi- 
 viduals as Colley Cibber, who, according to Macau- 
 lay, 'mutilated the plays of two generations," — and 
 not from the unadulterated writings of the poet liim- 
 self. Now if you say to one of these characters that 
 Shakspeare -wrote up an Irishman, what is the re- 
 sult; why, in the language of Dogberry, you are 
 ' Writ down an ass.' 
 But let us look up our evidence. We -»'iU take 
 the second scene of the third act of Henry 5th, be- 
 fore the besieged town of Harfleur, and extract : 
 
 'tiower. The Dukeof tiloster, to whom the order of the 
 siege is given, is altogether directed by an Irishman ; a very 
 valiant gentleman, 'i faith. 
 
 Fhiellen. It is captain Macmorris, is it not? 
 
 Gow. I think it be. i / * 
 
 Flu. By Chesu, he is an ass, as in the 'orld ; I will verify 
 as much in his pcard ; he has no more directions In the true 
 disciplines of wars, look you, of the Kuman discipliues,lhau 
 is a puppy dog. 
 
 Enter Macmorris and Jamy at n distance. 
 
 Gow. How now, coptain Macmorris? have you quit the 
 mines? have the pioneers given o'er? 
 
 JIac. By Chrish la, tish ill done; the work ish give over, 
 the trumpet sound the retreat. By my hand, I swear, and 
 by my father's soul, the work ish ill done; it ish give over; 
 I would hove blowed up the town, so Chrish save mc, la In 
 an hour. 
 
 Flu. Captain Macmorris, I pcseach you now, will you 
 vouchsafe mc, look you, a few disputations with you as 
 partly touching or concerning the disciplines of the war, 
 thelloman wars, in the way of argument, look you, and 
 friendly communication. 
 
 Mac. It is no time to discourse, so Chrish save mc, the 
 day is hot. It is no time to discourse. The town is be- 
 sceched, and the trumpet calls us lo the breech : and we talk 
 and do nothing, and there Is throats to be cut, and works 
 to be done. 
 
 Flu. Captain Slacraorris, I think, look yon, under your 
 correction, there is not many of your nation 
 
 Mac. Of my nation? What ish my nation? ish a villain, 
 and a bastard, and a kunve and a rascal? What ish my na- 
 tion ? Who talks of my nation?' 
 
 There, most v:iliant Celt, let us, as the sailors say, 
 ' put a stopper on our jaw." 
 
 Now, although Mr. S. had averypoor idea of the 
 brogue, yet he had a high opinion of the qualities of 
 this ' very valiant gentleman,' whose tongue -«-as 
 evidently in his sword, and who would much rather 
 ' fight than talk,' a qualification directly opposite 
 to that of the leek eating Taffy, Fluellen, whose on- 
 ly merit seemed to lay in disputations on the Koman 
 wars. 
 
 Make a note of this, Mr. Editor, and give, at 
 least one English author the credit of doing justice 
 to an Irishman, in his valor and love of countrj*. 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 299 
 
 —Fortified by 'tswi glass lager,' I, one evenin] 
 last week, in company with a couple of Indian 
 chiefs, Fi-hi-yah, the Old Dog, nndlloop-de-doodle 
 doo, the Mustang Colt, who are at present enjoying 
 the hospitalities of the city, dropped into the various 
 places of amusement, to note, as the Artful Dodger 
 observes, ' what was up.' At the Boston, Charlotte 
 Cushman was doing 5Icg Jlerrilies. Did you ever 
 Bee her ? No. Then let me give you my ideas of 
 her performance, at the same time, giving you to 
 understand that, 
 
 'lam nothinff, if not critical.' 
 Well, sir, Charlotte's performance is unnatural 
 and spasmodic. It is wonderful in its way, but 
 seems to me to be like some of the late George Lip- 
 pard's tales, composed entirely of e.KcIamation 
 points ! ! It is not the Meg of Sir Walter, but a 
 creation of Miss Cuskman's, and is just such a mon- 
 ster as a man might suppose to be after him, when 
 he had been suffering with delirium tremens, • for a 
 few days.' The Old Dog said ' Old squaw scare all 
 the papooses,' an opinion shared by the Mustang, 
 and concurred in by myself. Still the performance 
 was a great one, and I advise you to see it some- 
 time and I think you will be of my opinion. 
 
 More lager — The Old Dog becometh excited and 
 expresses a desire to ' stand certain parties on their 
 heads ' — a mode of amusement freqxiently indulged 
 in on the prairies. Into the Howard, where jolly 
 John Brougham dispenses his refreshing draughts of 
 wit and wisdom. I am sorry to say that John does 
 not believe in the advice of Hamlet to the players of 
 •speaking no more then is set down for him,' for he 
 takes fearful liberties with his authors. Every ac- 
 tor who ' struts and frets his hour upon the stage,' 
 is not the wit that ilr. Brougham is, and as a mat- 
 ter of course, fells far short of the first wit in the 
 country in repartee. Do, Mr. Brougham, ' speak 
 the speeches as they are set down,' and my word 
 for it, pleasing and refreshing as they always are, 
 your performances will give more universal satis- 
 faction. 
 
 Large quantities of . The Old Dog dancing 
 
 the war dance, and the Mustang Colt in the gutter 
 uttering a series of unintelligible grunts. 
 
 Into the Museum, where we always have the best 
 performances in the city, and at a price within the 
 reach of all. I see a bit of ' Speed the Plough,' 
 with Harry Smith's inimitable * Farmer Ashfield.' 
 Leave with the crowd, and lose my aboriginal friends, 
 ■who, I believe, are scraping acquaintance with a 
 ' Charley ' — drop in somewhere and take my ' night- 
 cap,' and bid good night to ' biting cares.' 
 
 CORRESPONDENCE. 
 
 DvnLiN, May 25th, 18.38. 
 
 I take advantage of the departure of tlie Kangaroo, 
 which sails tu-morrow from Liverpool for New York, 
 to inform you that John O'Connell is dead. Thus 
 has departed another of the sons of the great O'Con- 
 nell, not one of whom, with the exception of Maurice, 
 were worlhy of their illustrious sire. John O'Connell 
 must have been about forty-eight years old. His death 
 has come upon the community like a flash of elect'ic- 
 iiy. We had not previously heard of his illness, and 
 had no cause to suspect his sudden demise. But the 
 Lord wills, and wc must bow in humble submission to 
 His divine will. 
 
 The Freeman's Journal says: — 'On Sunday week he 
 attended mass with the members of bis family at 
 Kingstown church. This was the last day Mr. OCon- 
 nell was out of his house, and on Monday he was at- 
 tended by Drs. Trant and Kavanagh for an affection 
 of the chest, resulting from a cold. In the course of 
 the week his indisposition assumed a more serious 
 character, and disease of the liver became apparent, 
 but no alarm was excited until Sunday last, the day 
 previous to his death, when symptoms of a dangerous 
 chiiracter set in, and the attendant pliysiciaa deemed 
 
 it necessary to call in Dr. Corrigan, who, we are in- 
 formed, on examination pronounced the malady fatal. 
 The melancholy intimation was communicBted to him 
 at once, and he received it mth the resignation becom- 
 ing a Christian. The Rev. Mr. Kavanagh was in 
 close attendance upon him up to his death, which took 
 place at six o'clock on Monday evening, surrounded by 
 all the members of his family. His departure was 
 marked by most perfect calmness, and he died appa- 
 rently free from all suffering. 
 
 There was, perhaps, no living man who brought 
 greater injuries upon his country than John O'Connell. 
 The 'best beloved son' of the liberator, brought up a 
 spoiled child, he soon gained a powerful ascendency 
 over the mind and actions of his great father. The 
 unhappy secession ot '47 was caused by him, and when 
 O'Connell sent for Dr. Miley, the morning after the 
 great meeting of the secessionists in the Dublin Ro- 
 tunda, and gave him full powers to bring back 'young 
 Ireland' upon its own terms, John O'Connell stepped 
 in and declared he would have no union with them, 
 and caused his father to take back the instructions 
 given to the Rev. Dr. 
 
 Thus it was, that the fell demon of discord once more 
 became dominant in our national party, and the arro- 
 gance of the son spurned the wise councils of the illus- 
 trious father. A short period elapsed and tijis would 
 be leader of Ireland became a recruiting sergeant for 
 England, receiving as his reward a snug berth in the 
 Hanaper office. 
 
 He is gone; death marked him for his own; the 
 truth of history requires this short noiiceof his betrayal 
 of Ireland. I trust he is gone to another and a better 
 world. May he rest in peace. 
 
 Turning from this melancholy and painful topic, I 
 have to inform you that we are likely to have imme- 
 diately a direct communication between the port of 
 Gahvay and the great city of New York. A company 
 of English merchants have undertaken the enterprzie, 
 and we are assured that a first class steamer will take 
 her departure from Galway for the metropolis of the 
 west about the middle of June, to be followed by other 
 steamers of the same line. If this is correct, it will 
 lead to important results, and confer great benefits 
 upon our country, more especially on the western part 
 of it. I have, however, my fears; I have a great dread 
 of all English speculations in Ireland. It may be a 
 'ruse' to frighten the Cunard company and induce 
 them to buy a number of steamers which cannot 
 otherwise be disposed of. Besides, I would much 
 rather have seen the enterprise brought to a successful 
 issue by a company of Irishmen. The truth is, we 
 have not yet learned sufficiently the great lesson of 
 self-reliance. We have to be taught dependence upon 
 ourselves, to put our own shoulders to the wheel and 
 not call upon Ilereules. There is sufficient capital in 
 the county of Galway alone, lying in the hands of the 
 people unproductive, to establish an Irish line of 
 steamers between Galway and the United Slates, but 
 we lack the energy and patriotism necessary to call it 
 forth. 
 
 If Ireland wishes for freedom from British misrule, 
 she is instructed to depend upon the quibble of a law- 
 yer, or to wait until the 'French are on the sea.' Is 
 any important commercial enterprize suggested, Eng- 
 land is looked to, and our wealthy merchants and pub- 
 lic men are not ashamed to go cringing and fawning 
 at the ministerial crib for a few thousands of pounds, 
 (which are always refused,) instead of putting their 
 hands into their own pockets. After several efforts to 
 establish this line liy Irishmen, it was abandoned, and, 
 I blush while I write it, Englishmen are now doing for 
 the sake of gain that which neither patriotism or profit 
 could induce us to do. 
 
 You have doubtless noticed in your Irish exchanges 
 the case of the Mc Cormicks who were executed for 
 the murder of Jlr. Ellis. They died upon the scaf- 
 fold, to the last moment protesting their innocence. 
 Now I do not attach much importance to some of the 
 dying statements of criminals, but I cannot believe 
 that men, who, previous to their arrest, led irreproach- 
 able lives, who, for a long time previous to death were 
 
 attended by their clergy and received the sacraments 
 of their church, will rush into the presence of their 
 Maker with a lie upon their lips. The mystery sur- 
 rounding their conviction is likely to be cleared up, as 
 Burke, one of the informers, has been arrested in Liv- 
 erpool, on a charge of perjury, and brought back here. 
 Important developments are looked for, but these can- 
 not bring back the Mc Cormicks to life. 
 
 Dublin, May 28, 1858. 
 In one of my previous letters I stated I was 
 afraid that Ball, the Sadliente candidate for the 
 representation of Limerick, would not retire from 
 the contest. I was mistaken; he has fled, disgrace- 
 fully fled, ignominiously defeated by the 'city of 
 the violated treaty.' His opponent Spaight, an 
 honest, liberal Protestant, is elected triumphantly. 
 
 The scene at the hustings was rich. There was 
 father Kenyon, the modern Junius who was pro- 
 posed as a flt and proper person to represent Lime- 
 rick in Parliament! This was done to give the Rev- 
 erend Father a right to address the electors, which 
 he otherwise would not have, not being an elector 
 of the city. As a candidate then, he addressed 
 them, and told them that if they elected him he 
 would be most negligent of his duties, and that in 
 fact he would stay at home. He next entered into 
 the political character of 'Ball_ the cawtholic candi- 
 date, denouncing him as a traitor, compared him to 
 Judge Keogh, a Catholic, who sentenced the 
 McCormicks to be hung, after he had secured their 
 conviction by an infamous charge to the jury, and 
 said that Catholic interests would be safer in the 
 hands of an honest Protestant, like Spaight, than 
 in the hands of such swindlers as Ball, and Fitzo-er- 
 ald and Judge, alias Billy Keogh. 
 
 That sterling and incorruptible patriot, John O'Don- 
 nell, has worked night and day in bringing about this 
 happy issue. He entered the breach almost alone, 
 and nobly has he been sustained by the national priests 
 and citizens of Limerick. All honor to John O'Don- 
 nell! All honor to the men of Limerick who pre- 
 ferred a Protestant patriot to a Catholic slave. 
 
 I wish to caution you against placing faith in tcllic- 
 gram dispatches relative to afl'airs in India. Wait for 
 the details of the news, and you will find them very 
 different from the lightning dishes so carefully cooked 
 for the British public. England's power is in a most 
 critical position in India. Centuries of wrong are now 
 bearing their legitimate fruits. She has sown the wind 
 and is reaping the whiilwind. Sir Colin Campbell 
 calls for 50,000 more troops, and they cannot be sup- 
 plied. The rebellion is spreading and the troops are 
 menaced in every quarter. A new chief has arisen 
 among the Sepoys and has commenced a guerilla 
 war. The British troops are marching and counter- 
 marching, under a burning sun: the decrcpid factory 
 operatives of Lancashire and Yorkshire, sent to fight 
 England's battles in India, are melting before its ter- 
 rible rays, like snow on the mountain-top. 
 
 The Russian fleet returning from the Baltic is to 
 appear shortly in the English channel and harbor at 
 Brest, on the northwest coast of France. The Trench 
 fleet (singular coincidence, isn't it?) is to make a great 
 display at the same time. England is alarmed and 
 has given orders for her entire fleet to be put into the most 
 active condition without dclay,60 she can have a grand 
 naval review at the same time. What does this mean? 
 Is she afraid of a naval coup d'etat on the part of her 
 august 'ally' and her old Crimean enemy? Smith 
 O'Brien has issued his tenth and last address to the 
 people of Ireland, upon the topics on which he has of 
 late addressed them. It is, in my opinion, the ablest 
 paper he has issued and possesses more of that truo 
 patriotic fire which we had a light to expect from him 
 than any of his former addresses. 
 
 AVONDHU. 
 
 PiioviDtxcE, R. I., June, 1858. 
 Editors of the Miscellany]: — 
 
 Our evangelical brethren were startled recently, 
 by the announcement that prayers and the use of 
 the Bible had been interdicted in the public schools, 
 
300 
 
 IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 in District No. 3, North Providence. Such on 
 event, they say, wns entirely unlocked for, and deem 
 it nn nrhitrnry stretch of jiowcr to overthrow thi'i 
 I'rotestant usase ; and, asn matter of course, charge 
 it upon one of the Trustees, who is a fatholic. It 
 appears that Catholic children have been punished 
 for not sutficicntly humbling themselves at these 
 I'rotestant prayers, amongst the number was a child 
 of Mr. John Treanor, one of the Trustees. Tliis 
 gentleman went to the school as a parent, (not as a 
 Trustee) for a conference on the grievances com- 
 plained of. lie recommended that the cause of of- 
 fence be removed, and the opinions of those who 
 could not conscientiously conform to the regula- 
 tions, be respected. The cause of offence was re- 
 moved, and our evangelical friends grew furious, 
 and talked much about the encroachments of 'popery' 
 on the liberties of tliis Republic ! 
 
 A meeting of the voters of the District, was held 
 Monday evening. May 31st, pursuant to a call of 
 the Trustees, for tlie purj)ose of taking a vote upon 
 the question. Having disposed of the other special 
 business before it, the subject of prayers and the use 
 of the Bible, came up. 
 
 Mr. II. E. Dodge, moved that the whole subject 
 be indelinitely postponed, on the ground that the 
 District had nothing to do with the matter. That 
 the regulations of the school in all particulars were 
 in the hands of the school committee. 
 
 Jlr. Philip B. Stiniss concurred in the remarks of 
 Mr. Dodge, and hoped the whole matter might bo 
 sull'cred to drop. 
 
 The vote was then taken, and Mr. Dodge's mo- 
 tion passed, not a single person voting nay. 
 
 In this attack upon us, our enemies have signally 
 failed to effect their purpose. The funniest of it is, 
 that the parties who made the charges against Mr. 
 Treanor, were ignorant whether prayers and the use 
 of the Bible were interdicted in the school, or not. 
 The member of the school committee who had the 
 school under his charge was no wiser than the 
 rest. 
 
 The General Assembly met at Newport last week, 
 for the pui-jiose of counting the votes for btate Of- 
 ficers at the last annual election ; for the election 
 of the civil officers of the State for the ensuing year, 
 and a V. S. Senator to succeed the Hon. Philip Al- 
 len, from the Ith of March next. The Hon. Henry 
 B. Anthony was elected to that office. 
 
 As I do not intend to mingle in partizan polities, 
 I shall draw no party lines, but speak independant- 
 ly of men and measures. 
 
 FllAXK. 
 
 A MIDNIGHT RIDE 
 
 I.S NINKTV-EIGUT. 
 
 Part 1. 
 
 Fifiy-four years have now elapsed since the Irish re- 
 bellion in 17'J8, and thongh at that time I made no in- 
 ([uiry into Ihc merits of the quarrel, and knew little of 
 the actors in it, and eared nothing either for them or 
 tlieir motives, I have reason to remerober the hot sum- 
 mer of that eventful year as if it were but yesterday. 
 I was residing in my lather's house, in Dame street, 
 Dublin, and was an undergraduate of Trinity College, 
 which I had entered in '97. In the city we heard little 
 of the rebellion and its concomitant miseries, and I 
 seldom spent a thought upon it, except when reminded 
 of its existence by the sight of the various corps of 
 yeomanry, which had been formed by the lawyers and 
 other public bodies. Prisoners were occasionally 
 dragged in by the military, and handed over to the 
 tender mercies of Major Sirr, in ihc Castle, who dealt 
 with them as to him might seem fitting. 
 
 'Poor devils!" was the only exclamation either in 
 pity, sympathy, or antipathy, which ever escaped me 
 or my companions on meeting with them. Politics, I 
 remember, I considered 'confounded humbug,' and 
 'uniting,' as forming a connection with anv of the 
 secret associations of the day was called, the height of 
 
 I folly; but a good dance at an evening party I looked 
 I upon as a very serious business, which ought to be 
 attended to in an earnest spirit. 
 
 My sisters were both older than myself, and were 
 fully imbued with the half scniiincnial, half traitorous 
 notions so ripe at the time, and watched every moNt- 
 nient with painful anxiety, cither from some vague 
 feeling of romance, or the instinctive syinpatliy which 
 most women feel for the weaker side in every i[uarrel. 
 But I laughed at their notions, and lost no opportu- 
 nity of heaping such ridicule as I had at command 
 upon the 'patriotic' party. Once only were my feel- 
 ings fairly roused to such a pitch, lliat I cursed the 
 rebels in my heart, and wished them every one hanged, 
 drawn and quartered, and that was on the memorable 
 night in May, when the whole Protestant ])oplation of 
 the city turned out in expcctalion of an attack from 
 the south. I had bcQn irvitcd to a ball in Morrion 
 square, but in conscciuencc of the alarm it was post- 
 poned 'sine nocte.' Ilinc ilia lachrymc. 
 
 I had an uncle living at Wicklow, about nine miles 
 from the town of Kathdrum, upon a small landed pro- 
 perty, most of which he farmed himself, lie was an 
 old man, and a widower, and his family consisted of 
 one son and two daughiers, who had been at school in 
 the neighborhood of London for nearly three years; 
 but after their mother's death, which had occurred but 
 recently, they had remained at home. 
 
 Floating rumors of the beauty and accomplishments 
 of my fair cousins had occasionally readied me through 
 my sisters, with whom they corresponded. I remem- 
 bered nothing of ihcni myself, as I had not seen them 
 for six years; but every one knows, and I knew, too, 
 what a dillercnec six years make in a girl who has al- 
 ready reached fourteen. From listening to conversa- 
 tion about them I at last began to join in it, and my 
 interest was increasing day by d.'vy, when an invitation 
 to spend the summer with them came from my uncle. 
 Enamored as I was of the joys of a city life, I felt 
 strongly disposed to accept of it. Not so my father, 
 who feared to allow me to travel in the disturbed state 
 of the countr)'; but his glowing representations of the 
 dangers of the way only roused my ardor, and I was 
 already, in imagination, a victor over hosts of 'base 
 lackey peasants,' whom I fancied myself leading cap- 
 tive to Grana Hall, and presenting to my cousins as 
 the first fruits of my valor. 
 
 My uncle assured us that his neighliorhood was still 
 very peaceable, and, with true Orange fervor, ex- 
 pressed his conviction, that if any disturbances did 
 ari>e, the loyal yeomanry of the neighborhood would 
 put them down in n manner that would strike terror 
 into the hearts of all evil-minded persons. Animated 
 by these assurances, I redoubled my solicitations to 
 my father for permission to set oul; but when a letter 
 from Lily, the joungcr of the two Misses Gilbert, ex- 
 pressed the warm desire which herself and her sislcr 
 felt to see me, my imjiortunily knew no bounds. I 
 was not to be denied any longer- 
 
 'Well, diaries,' said my father, after a long contro- 
 versy one evening, 'go, if you will; but if you are shot 
 or hanged, don't blame me. 'NVe had better, however, 
 give you as good a chance as possible, and as my 
 friend. Captain Hudson is going down to the town of 
 Wicklow, with a troop of dragoons, on Wednesday, I 
 will drop him a note, and ask him to take you under 
 his escort thus far.' 
 
 Nothing could have pleased me better. The follow- 
 ing day was spent in practising the broadsword exer- 
 cise in a hayloft over the stables; I had no need for 
 practice in pistol-firing; I could already snuffa candle 
 at twelve paces. The night before my departure, I 
 was charging, in dreams, in the ranks of the dragoons 
 in a heady flight, scattering the rcbsl forces 
 'Like thin cloudK before aBi.«cay|»a]c.' 
 and was highly complimented by Captain Hudson. 
 
 The eventful morning came. My portmanteau was 
 sent over early, and placed on the military baggage- 
 cart. At lircakfast I was too excited to cat much, and 
 my attention was, at all events, distracted by the innu- 
 merable messages which my sisters charged me to de- 
 
 liver, and one third of which I never did deliver, and 
 cautions from my father as to how I was to demean 
 myself on the way. 
 
 At last 1 started! I was mounted on a 'bit of blood' 
 from my father's slablcs, a little bay mare, which wo 
 called 'the Lyanna,' nn Irish word, meaning pet, or 
 darling, and in tnitli, I loved her as my life. She was 
 small — in fact, rather below the middle size, long in 
 the body, and rather hollow in the back, with short 
 .symmetrical limbs, broad, but compact, though by no 
 means clumsy hoofs, and possessed great width of 
 chest. But it was in her head that I delighted; it was 
 the perfection of symmetry, and was surmoiimcd by 
 small, delicate, silky cars, that were ever in motion. 
 Her two large dark eyes beamed with almost IminHn 
 gentleness and docility. She was at this time about 
 six years old. I am thus particular in ilescribing, be- 
 cause, as will be seen presently, she played a promi- 
 nent and important part in m_v tale. 
 
 Captain Hudson was a man of about fifty years of 
 age, thirty of which he bad spent in the field, in every 
 part of the world. His iron-grey hair and moustache, 
 bronzed features, calm but piercing grey eye, tall, erect 
 and sinewy frame and a deep scar on his cheek, miido 
 him in appearance the beau-ideal of a veteran sohlicr 
 of fortune. He had commenced his military career in 
 the East Indies, and the only sparks of enthusiasm or 
 deep feeling I ever noticed in his conversation, al- 
 though he was a constant visitor tt my father's house, 
 was when he recounted the cxjiloits of Clivc, that mar- 
 vellous man whose wondrous genius and daring made 
 a handful of European soldiers more than a match for 
 countless hosts of the fiercest chivalry of the east. 
 
 From India he had passed to America, and was 
 there engaged during the whole of the war of indepen- 
 dence, often wounded, twice made prisoner, and suf- 
 fering at times incredible hardships from cold, hunger, 
 and fatigue, but enduring all with a sort of phlegmatic 
 indifference, as if the worst misfortune that could hefal 
 him was incidental to his profession, and consequently 
 not to be comjilained of. He had received a collegiate 
 education, and had been a felluw-studeni of my fiith- 
 er's, and still retained a strong love for the Greek and 
 Roman classics, the only tic that bound him to his 
 youth, for all his relatives were dead nmny a year lie- 
 fore his return to Europe. He had been very success- 
 ful while at the university, and still devoted his leisure 
 hours to study. 
 
 On arriving in Rathdrum we stopped for the night. 
 The captain and I put up at the ho\cl, and the dra- 
 goons were billeted in various houses through the town. 
 On the following morning he resumed his march to 
 Wicklow, where he was to stay for a few days, and if 
 all remained quiet he was to proceed to H.tckcistown, 
 a small town on the confines of the couniies of Wick- 
 low and Carlow, there to await further orders. Grana 
 Hall was bnt ten miles distant, in another direction, 
 however, across the hills, so here we sepanilcd. 
 
 He advised me not to set out until the following 
 day, when a corps of yeomanry would bo marching 
 part of the way, as the news had arrived a few days 
 previously that a strong body of the rebels, under the 
 command of Holt, had passed Wicklow Gap, and 
 were dispersed in small parties in the vicinity, I prom- 
 ised to abide by his instructions; but alter an hour's 
 wandering through the little town, then no belter than 
 a hamlet, I felt so lonely and dull, and withal so im- 
 patient to reach my journey's end, that I ordered my 
 horse, and despite my landlord's warning and entrea- 
 ties, set out alone, leaving directions to have my port, 
 mantcau sent on wiih the yeomanry. This was the 
 commencement of my misfortunes. 
 
 For six miles I rode in safety across wild hills and 
 romantic glens, the people on the wayside 'clamping' 
 their turf and mouliling their potatoes, and the chil- 
 dren sporting in the fields, or lounging at the cabin 
 doors in the sun — the pictures of happiness and con- 
 tentment. I began to think the rebellion was a sham, 
 and oil the stories I had heard about it were lies, and 
 that in short there was no rebellion. 
 
 About mid-day I arrived at the village of Aughrim, 
 in the midst of a barren district, sirroundcd by grim 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 301 
 
 hills, of savngo aspect, tliickly covered with grey rocks 
 tlmt looked sterp and forbidding, as llie hot sun 
 gleamed fiercely npon ihcm. Hero I fed the Lyiinna, 
 and had a tumbler of wliiskcypunch, an Irishman's 
 beverage at all limes and in all seasons. In summer 
 ho drinks it 'to keep out the hate,' and in winter to 
 'dhrivc out the could.' 'I'hus fortified, wo again pro- 
 ceeded. A crowd of the villagers assembled to sec mo 
 start, ohservirg mo apparently with great curiosity, 
 and I noticed that the women shook their heads and 
 looked at me with a pitying expression of countenance 
 — but nothing was said. 
 
 My road now lay along the banks of a mountain 
 stream amidst tho same wild uninteresting scenery, 
 but after about two miles it turned abruptly at right 
 angles into a wide and ratlier romantic glen. Tlie 
 hills on each side were well wooded, or covered with 
 heather, and rose from the river's brink almost per- 
 pendicularly. The water boiled fiercely along amongst 
 the huge boulder stones which from time to time had 
 rolled down from the mountain side, and the willows 
 along tho bank leaned over, waving in the evening 
 breeze, like a lover drinking in the music of his mis- 
 tress' voice. 
 
 The road was cut in the side of the hill, and was 
 full of windings, caused by the irregularities of the 
 ground. The long arms of the mountain ash threw 
 their shade across it, save where, here and there, the 
 sun flung in a fostering ray upon green banks covered 
 with bluebells and daisies. He was already sinking in 
 the west, and his light, as it fell athwart the hillside, 
 shed a golden hue on the tree tops beyond the stream, 
 while the clear, rich notes of the blackbirds were gent- 
 ly wafied across through the balmy air. There was 
 no extended prospect — I could at no point see more 
 than ten yards in advance, on my right the hill rose 
 perpendicularly; on my left was the river, more wood, 
 and another steep ascent. It was exactly the time, the 
 clime, and the spot for lovers to whisper their vows, or 
 children to sport and gambol. 
 
 A sudden and rather steep incline brought the road 
 almost on a level with the river, and at the bottom, 
 the latter was spanned by a small rustic stone bridge, 
 across which a sort of lane led up into the wood on 
 the other side. Lounging in various attitudes at the 
 comer, were five or six men; some smoking, but all 
 armed, as I could see the steel gleaming in the sun, 
 while s'ill at some distance. 
 
 At the first moment of surprise, I felt considerably 
 alarmed, and, I am free to confess, rather disposed to 
 turn and fly. But further reflection convinced me 
 that my safest course was to advance boldly, as if un- 
 conscious of danger, for if the objects of fear were 
 friends, flight would make me ridiculous; if enemies, it 
 would be useless, as one well-aimed ball would cut 
 short my career long before I could reach the turn of 
 the road. I rode on; a short thick-set man, with thini 
 pale face, Irat rather intelligent features, and a bhck 
 beard of at least a week's growth, .idvanced, armed 
 with a musket and bayonet, and planted himself in the 
 centre of the road, straight in my way, looking at me 
 with the calm, imperturbable air of one who had a 
 duty to perform, and meant to perform it, though it 
 was a matter of no personal interest in the world to 
 him. 
 
 This was encouraging; these are a yeomanry pir|uct, 
 thought I, stationed here as a measure of precaution to 
 examine all passers-by; but it's curious that they are 
 not all in uniform — ah, perhaps it's not necessary un- 
 less at head quarters. It took but a second to console 
 myself with refieciions like these. I was roused by a 
 peremptory order to stop. I pulled up; the party on 
 the bridge stared at me in silence, while their compan- 
 ion seized the horse by ihe bridle, and said in a tone 
 pUegmatic as his manner — 
 
 'Where are ye from, an' where are yc goin' to?' 
 'From Raihdruni la>t.' 
 'Ye'er an Orang. man!' 
 
 'No, I'm noi; I know nothing and care nothing 
 about orange or green.' 
 'Well, thin, it ill becomes a cunyuch that's naythcr 
 
 wan thing nor t'other to be ridin iso nato a baste, when 
 honester min's thrampin on foot An' if your not an 
 Orangft yerself, ye belong to tlio breed, anyhow, for 
 how the divil eNe would ye get into sich ii nist o' Tory 
 hunthcrs as Ka'dlirum! 'Get down, I tell ye;' and 
 suiting the action to the word, he pulled my left foot 
 from the stirrup, and with a smart push, sent me 
 sprawling on the road at the other side. I rose, cov- 
 ered witli dust and boiling with rage. But what hap- 
 pened ai'tcrwards 1 must reserve for another chapter. 
 fConclusion next week.] 
 
 DE.vTn OF Henrv VIII. — The termination of 
 Henry VIII.'s existence had much in it which resem- 
 bled the dcatli of Ilcrod and Tiberius. As with the 
 Jewish and the Roman tyrants, his body had become, 
 from his excesses, one mass of foul disease and putrid 
 corruption, and like Ilerod, Henry was committing 
 murder as he lay on his death bed. Herod, it is well 
 known, beside having his son executed five days be- 
 fore he expired, ordered that the principal men of the 
 Hebrew nation should be enclosed in the Hippodrome, 
 and that, while he was giving up the ghost, they should 
 be slaughtered, to ensure a general lamentation among 
 his people when he was dead. How nearly similar 
 was the conduct of Henry. Nine days before the 
 breathed his last, he caused the barbarous execution 
 of his relative, the gallant, gentle. Earl of Surrey, who 
 ranks among the last ornaments of England's chivalry, 
 and the first of her poets. The charge against Surrey 
 was that he had quartered on his shield (as he had a 
 perfect right to do.) the arms of Edward the Confes- 
 sor. On the same accusation, Surrey's father, the 
 Duke of Norfolk, the first man in the realm, w.is 
 speedily attainted by an obsequious parliament, and 
 the tyrant, while at the verge of his mortal agony, on 
 the morning of his last day, issued orders that Ihe 
 aged duke should he beheaded. Providence, how- 
 ever, interfered to prevent both the ancient and the 
 more modern accumulation of atro' ity. The prison- 
 ers of the Hippodrome, and the inmate in the Tower, 
 were alike rescued by the deaths of their respective op- 
 pressors. 
 
 The actual demise of Henry occurred thus. The 
 king had lain for some time in mortal sickness, appa- 
 rently unconscious and regardless of his immediate 
 danger, but for several days all those near him plainly 
 saw his end approaching. He was become so froward 
 and fierce, that no one durst inform him of his condi- 
 tion; and as some persons during this reign had suf- 
 fered as traitors for foretelling the king's death, every 
 one was afraid lest, in the transports of his fury, he 
 might, on this pretence, punish capitally the author of 
 such friendly intelligence. At last Sir Anthony Denny 
 ventured to disclose to him the fatal secret, exhorting 
 him to prepare for the fate which was awaiting him, 
 and advised him to send for Archbishop Cranmer. He 
 heard the announcement v, ith courage, though rather 
 impatiently, and said, 'There is time enough yet, let 
 me sleep awhile. When he awoke, he felt the grasp 
 of death upon him; there was an end to further delay. 
 'I will have Cranmer now,' groaned the wretch; 'send 
 a messenger for him.' When Cranmer came the king 
 was speechless, but evidently still retained his senses. 
 Wha a fearful sight it must have been for the arch- 
 bishop to contemplate. There was his own work be- 
 fore him — the monarch whom ho had served in all his 
 lust and cruelty, whose blackest sins he had suggested, 
 or, at least sustained with heavenly show — there he 
 was, his regal patron, an object of horror, as the hand 
 of God fell upon him. 
 
 Unvarying prosperity had attended Henry while 
 living; his cup of vicious desires had overflowed the 
 brim; all he wished he had, and yet look at him dy- 
 ing! The peasant, nay, the meanest of mankind— the 
 very beggar whose soul might perhaps have towing its 
 flight from a dunghill— would have shrunk in terror 
 from such royally, coujded with such conclusion. No 
 doubt Cranmer stooil aghast at the spectacle. The 
 prelate implored the king to give some sign of his dy- 
 ing in the faith of Chrisr; it is said that he squeezed 
 
 the archbishop's hand, but even this is a matter of 
 doubt; he expired just as the exhortation fell from 
 Cranmer's \\p^. And this was the end of a king, who 
 had indeed never s[)ared man in his anger, nor woman 
 in his lust. He died in the lifiy-sixth year of his reign; 
 his life had been to himself one undeviating course of 
 good fortune, which may be accounted for by the fear- 
 ful consideraiion that crimes such as his are too heavy 
 to meet with any earthly retribution. By his will 
 Henry VIII. left money for masses lo be said for de- 
 livering his soul from purgatory. 
 
 Taste I^f Dress.— No female should despise study- 
 ing dress as an art ; by which we mean that exercise 
 of taste and judgment which teaches what style and 
 color of dress is most becoming to the figure, age, 
 &c., and also what fashions and customs best blend 
 and harmonise with each other. The following rules 
 illustrating this subject may be confidently relied 
 on advantageously applied. Short worfien should 
 not wear flounces to their dresses, because the un- 
 due breadth which it gives to the lower part of the 
 person tends to diminish its height. For the same 
 reason they should not wear large check patterns or 
 stripes running round the dress. Tall woman, as a 
 matter of course, may wear their dresses on prin- 
 ciples diametrically opposite to this. Stout women, 
 should wear dark-colored dresses and simple pat- 
 terns, as they diminish the apparent size of the fig- 
 ure ; the skirts also should have few or no flounces, 
 except where the figure is above ordinary height. 
 Thin women should wear light-colored dresses, and 
 patterns displaying breadth of design, such as large 
 checks, broad stripe, &c.; flounces may also be free- 
 ly adopted, as they serve to diminish the angles of 
 the figure, and to impart a certain degree of ro- 
 tundity Young women have a wide latitude al- 
 lowed them for dress ; gayer colors and more fanci- 
 ful styles may be indulged in, so long as they do dot 
 amount to over-dressing or unsuitableness. Elder- 
 ly women should attire themselves in a neat, quiet 
 manner ; the materials of their dress should be sub- 
 stantial, the colors dark, and the designs small. 
 Above all things they should avoid a juvenility of 
 style, since, instead of making old people look young- 
 er, it has an immediately opposite cftect, and only 
 serves to bring out more prominently, and to con- 
 trast more painfully, the youth of the dress with the 
 age of the wearer. Dark women look best in light 
 colors, which supply a pleasing contrast to the com- 
 plexion ; or in yellow, which sheds a subdued vio- 
 let hue favorable to brunettes. Fair women appear 
 to the best advantage in black, on account of the 
 contrast which is derived from it ; or in light green, 
 or sky blue, both of which colors possess the power 
 of imparting to pale or fair complexions what are 
 called complimentary tints. 
 
 Tho late Duke of Orleans, father of the last 
 King of France, having been condemned to death 
 by his associates, was guillotined at the same time 
 with a number of minor culprits. His grace is said 
 to have died with some courage ; he, however, had 
 no ambition for precedence ; and, on the scaflTold, 
 pushed forward one of his unfortunate fellow suf- 
 ferers—a hair dresser. The latter turned round, 
 and perceiving who the distinguished individual 
 was, that thus acted the part of usher, with a low 
 bow and polite air, made way for the duke, saying, 
 ' After you, my lord !' 
 
 A backwoods editor, edifying his readers with a 
 description of a mammoth cherry, which had well 
 nigh proved more than a match for hi.s ' devil ' and 
 himself, concludes with a great ' flourish of trum- 
 pets,' by ejaculating, ' we defy the world besides, to 
 produce a cherry measuring thirteen inches in ' cir- 
 cum.stance.' ' 
 
 A philosopher, who married a vulgar but amiable 
 girl, used to call his wife 'Brown Sugar,' 'because ' ho 
 said, 'she was sweet, but unrefined.' 
 
302 
 
 IRISH fflSCELLANY. 
 
 LITERATURE. 
 
 Tin: I. UK or Sr. Vimtnt J)f. rvii., by Henry 
 llcdford, A.M. New York niul >Ioiitre«l: D. & 
 J. Sadlicr & Co.; Boston: William Iliekey, 128 
 Federal street. 
 
 This work cnnnot fail of being read by the Catho- 
 lie eommunity most extensively, giving us a true 
 narrative of the life and labors of the illustrious St. 
 Vincent l)e I'aul, the founder of that holy order, 
 which even the world looks upon with reverence — 
 the Sisters of Charity. 
 
 During the war in the Criracn, the feat of Miss 
 Nightingale, a wealthy Kiiglisli lady, who aban- 
 doned the pleasures and enjoyments of home, from 
 feelings of patriotism, that she might minister to 
 the wants of her country's soldiers, was made the 
 theme of the most fulsome panegyrics by writers in 
 prose and verse. Her name was upon every Eng- 
 lish speakii\g tongue, and laudations to her honor 
 were incessant. 
 
 During all this time, a number of the pious Sis- 
 ters of Charity were attending in the same hospital, 
 dressing the wounds of the troops and performing 
 not only with pleasure, but with love, the most 
 menial othces for the sick and disabled; yet not a 
 single newspaper recorded their praises, or held up 
 their heroic deeds to the admiration of the world. 
 Miss Nightingale left the world, as it were, for a 
 time from patriotic motives. These pious ladies, 
 many of them bom in the lap of luxury — ladies of 
 wealth, and rank and title, left it forever, for the 
 love of Cjod, that they may minister to the wants 
 of suffering humanity. The life of their founder, 
 his early struggles, his great difficulties, his final 
 triumphs, arc stranger than tiction. 
 
 The Catholic LmiiMiv Maoazixe, for May, pub- 
 lished monthly by the Newbuigh, N. Y., Catho- 
 lic Library Association. 
 
 The pleasure with which we alwaya take up this 
 interesting and well-conducted serial, is this month 
 much changed by the address to its 'subscribers,' 
 from which we make the following extract: — 
 
 '■\Ve have published this serial through ten 
 months of its second year, making regular cash 
 payments of all its expenses, and two-thirds of our 
 entire subscribers have not yet paid the trifling sum 
 we demanded from them. AVe asked some months 
 since, that all who wished to discontinue the Mag- 
 azine would inform us of their desire, and it should 
 be promptly effected. We have received such no- 
 tice from about ten; the remainder, it is fair to 
 suppose, wish to continue it. They doubtless in- 
 tend also to pay for it, but instead of doing this 
 promptly, they put it off from month to month. 
 We must now reluctantly say, that unless our sub- 
 scribers pay at once, we shall have to discontinue 
 the publication.' 
 
 This is really too bad. The only true principle 
 on which the publishers can hope to succeed, is the 
 cash 'in advance' principle. Subscribers generally, 
 have no idea of the vast outlay requisite to sustain 
 even the monthly publication of a work like the 
 Catholic Library Magazine, and ought to pay up 
 instanter. We trust our contemporary's subscrib- 
 ers will do by him what is honest, and that he will 
 be able to continue his useful labors in the field of 
 journalism. We cannot afford to lose him. 'The 
 harvest is plenty, and the laborers few.' 
 
 Many people fancy that a little fly is only little 
 because it is young, and that it will grow in process 
 of time to be as big as a blue-bottle. Now this idea 
 is entirely wrong; for when an insect has once at- 
 tained to its winged state it grows no more. All 
 the growing and most part of the eating is done 
 while in its previous state of life; and indeed, there 
 are many insects which do not eat at all from the j 
 time they assiune the chrysalis state, till they die. I 
 
 I Death Scenes of Distingvishkd rKitsoNAOEs 
 
 Nelson, who in the arms of victory encountered the 
 grasp of death, preserved to the latest period of his 
 ebbing life, the same ardent and unwearied zeal for 
 his country's glory that, throughout his career, 
 had characterized his unmatched achievements. Kc- 
 pcatedly, and with fretful impatience, during the 
 slow progress of his mortal agony, he demanded of 
 his attendants 'whether the l'"reuch admiral had 
 struck his flag?' nor seemed to bestow upon his own 
 hopeless condition a moment's consideration, until 
 the glad tidings of triumph hud been made known 
 to him. The last words of the hero were, 'Anchor 
 Hardy, anchor!' the very command which most pre- 
 cisely suited the circumstances of the moment, a 
 proof of the tenacity with which, on the very brink 
 of the grave, his unconquered and mighty spirit 
 embraced all the duties of his position. 
 
 Dessaix, when he fell mortally wounded at the 
 battle of Marengo, exclaimed; 'Go tell the First 
 Consul that I die with the regret of not having yet 
 achieved enough to entitle me to live in the estima- 
 tion of posterity.' 
 
 The brave and gallant Due d'Enghien, ignomini- 
 ously massacred in the ditch of Vincennes, was 
 summoned in the middle of the night to meet his 
 fate. Upon observing the preparations for his exe- 
 cution, he exclaimed: 'Heaven be praised! I shall 
 die a soldier's death!' Vpon requesting to be al- 
 lowed the spiritual ministrations of a clergyman, 
 he was greeted with the insulting reply: 'Have you 
 a mind to die like a capuchin? Y'ou want a priest! 
 pshaw, they are all in bed at this time!' AVithout 
 replying to this infamous speech, the unfortunate 
 prince knelt down, prayed fervently for a few mo- 
 ments, and then rising exclaimed, 'Let us proceed.' 
 When they were about to fire on him, he said to the 
 gendarmes appointed to perform that duty, 'Now 
 then my friends!' to which an insolent and fero- 
 cious voice rejoined, 'You have no friends here?' 
 He who uttered this brutal gibe was Slurat, who 
 when meeting many years later, with a precisely 
 similar fate, may have remembered with some feel- 
 ing of compunctious visiting, having been present 
 at the murder of the Due d'Enghein. 'Spare my 
 head, aim at my heart!' was the ex-king of Naples' 
 own dying request. 
 
 When Marshal Ney was awakened on the morn- 
 ing of his death, by an officer who proceeded to 
 read him his death warrant, which were ennumera- 
 ted all his titles, he remarked: 'AVhy not rather 
 simply say ilichael Ney, now a French soldier, 
 and soon but a heap of dust.' Having performed 
 all his religious duties, and taken an affecting leave 
 of his family, he exclaimed, just before the mo- 
 ment of his execution, "I declare, in the presence of 
 God and man, that I have never been a traitor to 
 my country. May my death render her happy! 
 Iiong live France!' Refusing to have his eyes ban- 
 daged, he bared his breast, gave the word to fire, 
 and fell. 
 
 The murdered Due de Berri's chief concern, dur- 
 ing the last hours of his life, seemed to be how he 
 could bespeak mercy for his assassin. To the king, 
 who visited him on his bed of death, he thus ex- 
 pressed himself: 'Let the man's life be .spared, that 
 I may die in peace; it will sooth my last moments! 
 Uncle, I implore you to spare that man's life.' — The 
 Metropolitan. 
 
 Times to Moore, 'find any number of men of genius 
 to write for me, but very seldom one man of com- 
 mon sense." The 'thundcrers' in the times, there- , 
 fore, have, so far as we know, been men of common 
 sense. Nearly all successful editors have been men 
 of this description. Campbell, Carlysle, Bulwcr 
 and D'Israeli failed; liarnes. Sterling and I'hillips 
 succeeded. In England editors rarely write for 
 their journals. They read, select, and 'cut out the 
 work." In this country, with a few exceptions, 
 editors have not only to read, select and 'cut out 
 work,' but do the writing too. On the whole, the 
 American editors are the hardest writing men in the 
 world. 
 
 Editors. — A good editor, a competent newspaper 
 conductor, is like a general or a poet — born, not 
 made. Exercise and experience gives facility, but 
 the qualification is innate, or is never manifested. 
 On the London daily papers all the great historians, 
 novelcsts, poets, essayists and writers of travel, 
 have been tried and nearly all have failed. We 
 might say all; for after a display of brilliancy, brief 
 but grand, they died out literally. Their resources 
 were exhausted. 'I can,' said the late editor of the 
 
 MISCELLANEA. 
 
 The man that cannot control his temper is more 
 to be pitied than ridiculed. 
 
 What kind of bands do young ladies like best ? 
 Ahem ! Why husbands, to be sure. 
 
 What gentleman can, with any sense of propriety, 
 ask a fat woman to lean on his arm ? 
 
 A generous man will place the benefits he con- 
 fers beneath his feet — those he receives nearest his 
 heart. 
 
 Whenever you see persecution, there is more 
 than a probability that truth lies on the persecuted 
 side. 
 
 A year of pleasure passes like a fleeting breeze ; 
 but a moment of misfortune seems an age of pain. 
 
 A duel was fought in Mississippi last month by 
 Mr. T. Knott and Mr. A. W. Shott. The result was 
 that ICnott was shot, and Shott was not. 
 
 A gentleman sat down to write a deed, and be- 
 gan, ' Know one woman by these presents.' ' You 
 are wrong,' said a bystander, ' it should be, 'Know 
 all men.' ' ' Very well,' answered the other, ' if 
 one woman knows it, all men will soon know it, 
 too." 
 
 Being determined to introduce myself, I walked 
 up, hat in hand, and said, with a respectful bow, 
 ' Mr. Charles Lamb, I believe.' • \'-c-s,' said Lamb 
 slowly, feeling and coaxing at the same time his 
 short, thin, gray whiskers, 'yes, they call me Lamb, 
 yet, but I am old enough to be a sheep.' 
 
 'Daddy,' said a young hopeful, ' let's go up to 
 
 the nine pin alley and roll.' 
 
 ' Roll ! boy, what do you know about rolling ?' 
 ' Me know about it ! Why, I can roll your darn'd 
 
 old eyes out in less than ten minutes.' 
 
 Mr. P.'s daughter came running to her aunt one 
 day saying, ' Aunt Kate, little Mattie has swallow- 
 ed a button.' .Seeing her terror, her annt calmly 
 replied, ' Well, what good will that do her ?' Said 
 the child very seriously, ' Not any good, as I can 
 see, unless she swallows a button hole !' 
 
 ADVERTISEMENTS. 
 
 WILLIAM K. O'BRIEN. 
 
 TH 1 
 
 > B K . 
 
 IBD AVBNCK, KEW 
 
 — Manufacturer of— 
 
 LOOKING-GLASS, P O It T R A I T 
 
 AND 
 
 PICTURE FRAMES, 
 
 WhoJesaJe and Rttail. 
 
 OH raintinifs and Engravings froiucd and varnislied. 
 
 Order** promptly executt-d, packed and shipped to any part 
 
 ni>22 of tlie countr}'. Sin* 
 
 A\" I L L I A M P E A R C E , 
 
 PL V M B E R , 
 
 12 ASD 28 CITV BXCHAXOE, 
 
 DEVONSUIEE STEKET, 
 BOSTOn. 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 303 
 
 ADVERTISEMENTS. 
 
 FINK KEADY MADK CLOTHliSG 
 
 CUSTOM TAILORING. 
 
 SrillNG OVERCOATS, 
 
 UUtilKESS COATS, 
 
 FKOK AKB DKESS COATS, 
 
 PANTS AND VESTS, 
 Good, Stylish, Well Made Gaumknts, 
 Such AS men of taste aud good judgment will wear, can at 
 all times be found at our store. 
 Our aim is to produce for our customers the best Keady 
 Made Garments at the lowkst i'ossiblk pkicks Foii 
 CASH. 
 
 Headers of this Journal are earnestly solicited to exam- 
 ine our goods before purchasing. 
 
 J \V. SMITH & CO., 
 
 Dock Squauk, coitNiiii Elji Strekt. 
 my 11 tf 
 
 LBUUNIIAM, (formerly junior partner in the firm of 
 9 Buknham: 15UOTHER3,) has taken the Old Stand, 58 
 & GO Cornhill, occupied by the late tirm, and liolde himself 
 in readiness to supply ail orders with which he may be lu- 
 vored. 
 
 Ye Antique Hooke Store still flourisheth, 
 
 As y tte dide in days of yore ; 
 
 And ye Burnham still catereth 
 
 For ye lovers of ancieut lore. 
 
 al7 3* 
 
 SOUTH END CATHOLIC BOOK STORE, 
 
 And Depot for the Sale of the 
 
 METROPOLITAN AND YOUTHS' ULiGAZlNES. 
 
 WILLIAM KEATING, Ageht, 
 
 8 1-2 Harrison Avenue, or at his New Periodical Store, 176 
 
 Harrison Avenue, Boston, Mass., 
 
 Where a great variety of the most popular Books and 
 
 Papers cam be had at the very lowest prices, 
 
 WILL supply Clubs, Agents, Canvassers, Stc, on the 
 same terms as the Publishers. The lollowiug are 
 the terms— 3 copies will be sent by mail, to one address, lor 
 one year S5; 6 copies foi: ®10; 13 copies forS20; 20 copies 
 for S?30. 
 
 (n7=* On the receipt of S3, three copies of the Catholic 
 Youth's Magazine and one copy of the Metropolitan will 
 be mailed regularly for one year. 
 
 or?" A few setJi of the Magazines from the beginning, can 
 be had of the Agent. Also, all new books furnished as 
 soon as published. ap24 3mos 
 
 SAMUEL MASUKY. 
 
 PHOTOGRAPH AND DAGUERREOTYPE 
 ARTIST. 
 
 289 Washimgton Street, 
 (Up one Higbt of stairs) 
 
 BosTOir. 
 Photographs taken of every size and finished in Oil, Wa- 
 ter, ludia Ink and Pastel Colors. Daguerreotypes taken in 
 the most superior manner. myl 
 
 GENERAL TICKET OFFICE 
 
 —FOR THE — 
 
 S O UTHE RN AND WESTERN STATES^ 
 
 AND 
 
 THE CANADAS, 
 No. 2 Albany Street, Boston. 
 
 EDWAJUD KYAN, Agent. 
 
 N. B.— PasaaM to and from Liverpool, and Bills of Ex- 
 change on England, Ireland and Scotland. 
 
 ap24 ly 
 
 JOHN iUTCIIEL'S LETTERS 
 
 ON the attempted Bevolution in Ireland in 1848, and the 
 causes which led thereto, are republished exclusively 
 iu the 
 
 IRISH AJIERICAN. 
 
 Publication Office, No. 32 Bcekman street. New York. For 
 sale h^ all news dealers. I'rice three cents per cony. Sub- 
 scription Sl,50 per annum. 4wmy22 
 
 WILLIAM D. PARK, 
 
 SHADES HOTEL, 
 
 NO. 2 MORTON P L A C E ^ 
 
 BOSTON. 
 
 WHY BURN GAS RY" DAYLIGHT? 
 
 STEPHEN ROE ^ CO., 
 
 INVENTORS and Manufacturers of the Improved Day- 
 light lietleclor, for dilfusiug the healthy light of day 
 into all dark place*". No. 23 State street, Boston, and No. 
 ^ Park }!lreet. Unltimorc. 
 N. B. Call and see it iu operalion. Gmfl3 
 
 AMUSEMENTS. 
 
 BOSTON TllEA'ntE. 
 
 TiioMAfl Bauuv, Letseo and Manager. 
 
 Doors open at 7 ; Performance commences at 7 1-2 o'clock 
 Prices of admissiun—l'rivate Boxes SfOj Parquette, lial- 
 
 onv and IstTier 60 ctsj Family Circle 26 cts: Amphithea- 
 
 re io cts. 
 
 BOSTON MUSEUM. 
 W. H. Smith, Stage Manager. 
 
 O^ien for the production of Tragidies, Comedies, Spec- 
 tacles, Farces, &c. 
 E.xhibition Ilall opens at 6 1-2; commences at 7 1-2. 
 I 25 cents; Reserved Seats 50 cents. 
 
 HOWARD ATHENiEUM. 
 
 Jacob Bakuow, Lessee and Manager. 
 
 Henry Wallack, Stage Manager. 
 
 The Grand Combination every night 
 
 Doors open at 7; Performance commences at 7 1-2. 
 Dress Boxes 75 cts; Circle boxes 60 cts; Parquette 50 Cts; 
 Orchestra 75 cts; Upper Boxes 25 cts; Gallery 13 cts. 
 
 GTLMORE'S SALEM QUADRILLE BAND. E. UP- 
 TON, Jr., Prompter. Apply to P. S. Gilmore, Es- 
 sex House, Salem, Mass. 3m " '" 
 
 ells'" 
 
 BS. TREANOR, AITORNEY and COUNSELLOR 
 • AT LAVV, 15 Massachusetts Block, Court Square, 
 Boston. 
 
 0=°Particular attention paid to Conveyancing, and the 
 examination of titles of Real Estate. febl3 
 
 A WILLIAMS & CO., Wholesale Agents, for the Irish 
 • MiscKLLANY. The Tiade supplied with Books, Pe- 
 riodicals and Newspapers. Special Agents for Harper & 
 Brothers Publications. No. 100 Washington street. 
 Ieb20 Boston. 
 
 P . M O R 11 I S , 
 
 APOTHECARY, 
 Corner of Federal and Purchase streets, foot of S 
 street, Boston. 
 
 STRICT personal attention paid to compounding Physi 
 clan's Prescriptions. A choice selection of Family 
 Medicines constantly on hand. A well selected stock oi 
 genuine imported Perfumery and Fancy Goods. Soda 
 Water with choice Syrups. A large assortment of genuine 
 Havana Segars constantly on band. ap5 
 
 NORTHERN HOUSE, 
 
 NORTH SQtJ ARK— boston. 
 
 JOHN GLANCY Proi'rietob. 
 
 This House has rooms equal to any first class Hotel, and 
 permanent or transient Boarders can be accommodated 
 nearly one half cheaper than at any other House in the 
 City. 
 
 In the Reading Room can be found all the morning and 
 evening papers, and periodicals of the day, together with 
 an extensive Library, for the free and exclusive use ol 
 
 the BOARDKRS. 
 
 N. B. Strangers visiting Boston, can always find this 
 House a Homk. 
 
 THE SOUTHERN CITIZEN. 
 
 TS published weekly at Knoxville, Tennessee, by JOHN 
 MITCHELL & WM. G. SWAN, at S?2 per annum, or 
 $1 for SIX months, payable invariably in advance. 
 
 Mr. Mitchell having commenced in the 28th number of 
 the paper, a series of Letters addressed to the Hon. Alex- 
 ander H. Stephens of Georgia, which when completed will 
 furnish an entire history ot 
 
 THE IRISH TROUBLES OF 1848, 
 
 With their Causes and Consequences, 
 
 The Southern Citizen will be the more interesting to both 
 American and Irish readers. Besides tliese contributions 
 from Mr. Mitchel, the Southern Citizen will continue to 
 have its usual quantity of original matter upon political 
 and literary subjects prepared by him. The circulation, 
 though lar";e and constantly increasing, the proprietors 
 have thought will be much more extended by au announce- 
 ment in this form. 
 
 Communications with remittances may be addresedto 
 Mitchel & Swan, Knoxville, Tennessee, or to any of the 
 following Agents: 
 
 S G Courtenay & Co, Charleston. S C; Thomas B O'Con- 
 nor, Savannah, Ga; .1 C Mnr;,'an, New Oik-iuis. Lii; Jaw A 
 Gentry, (Richmond Vu; M.-Mindir A.lnmsnii. \Viisliiiij,rtoii 
 city; Talliuage& Tuniier. riiK-iiiiiiUi,(>; I'M IIsivitIv, llii 
 Fulton street, N Y; S H (Joi'izcl, :j;j baiipliiu slrn-t, Mobik' 
 Ala; Benj B Davis, Muaonic Building, Montgomery, Ala; 
 Ross & Toucey, 121 Nassau street. N Y, supply dealers only 
 upon reasonable terms; James McGinn, 121 itearuey street 
 Sun Francisco. 
 
 •»* Clubs of ten will he supplied with the paper for S15. 
 
 DO'IIOUKKE. rospcctfullv informs his friends and the 
 • public, tlijtt he keeps constantly on hand COFFINS 
 of all sizes and kind.'*, at his CoHin Manufactory, No. ai7 
 Federal, between Beach and Knceland Street.s, Boston, 
 which he uill sell as reasonable as can be bought at any oth- 
 er place in the city. 
 
 N. B.— Orders ptinctnally attended to, day or night. 
 
 J^'sidence, No. 2.S South street. Boston. 
 
 [L/"*i rave-Clothes furnished to order at short notice. 
 
 fcblS 
 
 SUBSCIlIBEl SUBSCRIBE! SUBSCRIBEl 
 
 THE IRISH MISCELLANY 
 
 PICTURE GALEERY. 
 
 Inducemknts 
 
 Nkw Subscribers. 
 
 On Saturday, the 3d of July next, we Phall prePent to 
 each subscriber to the Irish Pictorial Mivccllaiiy, u hplendid 
 Lithographic Engraving, represeiidiij.' the f.'li)rionH t^cene, 
 which occurred shortly before tin- eii|iliiic ol Limerick, 
 when General Sarsfield, who conitnaiHled tlie Iri>li horse, 
 having learned that a large supply ot liea\ y .'■ei^^e guns was 
 on the way to the camp of the Prince of orun^e, resolved 
 to capture them. Crossing over the country by a dithcult 
 and circuitous rout, so as to intercept tlie convoy, he came 
 up in front of it at Killcnnmbua, attacked William's 
 troops, deleated them and compelled them to retreat before 
 the Irish horse, leaving their artillery in the hands of Sars- 
 lield. 
 
 Having to rejoin the garrison at Limerick, Sarsfield knew 
 it would be impossible to carry with him the heavy Kng- 
 lish guns through the mountain passes, and delemiiited to 
 destroy them. He ordered them to be charged Iu their ut- 
 most capacity, and imbedded deeply in the euith, with the 
 whole of the baggage train, which also fell into his hands. 
 A train being laid, the spark was applied and in a few sec- 
 onds the seige artillery of William was shattered into innu- 
 merable fragments This gallant feat astonished the Eng- 
 lish troops, gave new courage to the Irish, and added to 
 the great popularity of the gallant Sarsfield. The explo- 
 sion shook the earth for miles around, and was heard at an 
 immense distance. 
 
 It is at the moment of the explosion of the English ar- 
 tilleiy which our artist has siezed upon for the subject of 
 his pencil. 
 
 This memorable event will be faithfully and accurately 
 portrayed. It has not hitherto, given inspiration, as far as 
 we can learn to any of our Irieli artists, and shall now have 
 amble justice done it. It wiil make a beautiful picture. 
 We shall present it to our readers on a sheet of tine draw- 
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 of July next one years' subscription in advance, dating 
 from our first number. 
 
 Non subscribers will be supplied at $1,W for each plate. 
 
 We are resolved that our subscribers shall possess a 'pic- 
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 orate. This will be the first of a series of national pic- 
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 ers the second picture of the series will be ready early in 
 October, the subject of which is not yet decided on. We 
 should teel obliged to any of our friends who possess old 
 pictures of remarkable events in Irish history, or portraits 
 of distinguished Irishmen, to forward them to us. They 
 shall be taken good care oi, and returned. 
 
 Let our friends see to their subscriptions in season. Our 
 Picture Gallery will be fit to adorn the walls of any gentle- 
 man's house in the country, and will, we hope, eventually 
 supersede the wretched daubs which are often met with. 
 
 Our arrangements for the first picture are almost com- 
 pleted. It will be absolutely necessary that we should 
 know immediately the number of plates we sliall want. 
 x,et our subscribers therefore, send in tlieir subscriptions 
 without delay, and be careful to give us their correct ad- 
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 Will our triends of the press please notice this new fea- 
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 sanctums are adorned with choice copies oi this national 
 picture. 
 
 THE IRISH VINDICATOR, 
 
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 in existence, has met with the 
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 and has been pronounced by the Press and the Public to be 
 superior to any other Irish Weekly in the United States. 
 
 It cont.iins each week, the very 
 Latest News fro.m eveiiy CocKTr in Ireland ; 
 Original and entertaining 
 STORIES AND ANECDOTES, 
 and a variety of Miscellaneous Reading matter, of a charac- 
 ter which cannot fail to elevate and chasten the intel- 
 lectual appetite. The Irish Vindicator is devoted 
 
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 Published every week, at the Oflice, No 10 Spruce street, 
 
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 PASSENCJER CEKTIFICATES. 
 
 TO OLD COUNTRY5IEX. Owen Mc Namara has 
 I'assage Certificates and Draf>s always on hand and 
 for sale. As he does business for that most respectable 
 hou-^e, (Williams & Guion) in New York. Old Countrvmeu 
 de-.irin'i to scud for their friends, or remit money, would 
 d.» well to give him n call at No. 4 Gouuaw St.. oppo.site 
 Summer St., Lowell, Mass. ap2tf 
 
Sf9S 
 
 
 e^clcctfb rvprcssin for % Irislj Pi^ccllann. 
 
 JMUSIC CO ]SI POSED I3Y E. J. LODEH. 
 
 ninnititATO. 
 
 1. Oh ! the sweet girls of E • riii, there's love in tlieir smile, Wliich teaz - es tho heart, yet enslaves it the while ; From their 
 
 
 ^1=^=1 
 
 
 ^Sli!=l3^^l3^?=l'^5|^^lfe^! 
 
 rj^lzif: 
 
 
 
 'V-K—t 
 
 eyes' JL't-ty fringe their looks flash as briglit As the phmets above, thro' the man-tie ot night. To their thoughts foci ng lends its most 
 
 — 1 _| — , 1 1 — era' — I r — 1^ -I-t — ' — t — ' -■- "t — ' 1 r-* '"ii-i'Tcd S* - t 
 
 -«s- -•- -<s- 
 
 f=5^: .p" 
 
 el - o-quent spell, And a glance more than wonls tlieir deep passion will tell, For the charm that bestows so resistless a grate, Is the 
 
 
 
 
 1 -»■ -=i- -^- » » ' I :=E. ^ H^=^ ''=^ 
 
 iwcct girls of Erin, there's love in their smile, AVhich teazes the heart, yet enslaves it the while. 
 
 ■•* "S" -,?J5; =,*3^ J'L^j? g *■ ^ -^ -S- 
 
 soul that beams out from each boauti - fill face. Oh I the sweet girls of Erin, there's love in their smile, AVhich teazes the heart, yet enslaves it the while. 
 
 ij^iZa^:^ ^ ^-— =— T-^=^T-=T-1 T^^ r— T-l— 
 
 m^^^m 
 
 ,-! I' 
 
 
 I have seen ruddier lips in a sunnier clime, 
 
 And cj-cs flash as bright, maids of Krin, as thine ; 
 
 15ut they wanted the s|Hdl which virtue be.stow.s, 
 
 As the flower art hath painted, the sweets of the ro.se. 
 
 0- 
 
 Thcn fair gii-ls of Erin, let me roam win re I will, 
 Yonr fond image shall dwell in my meni'iy still ; 
 As the sun kis.ses all eie he sinks to liis rest. 
 So my la.st wish is breathed to the maids of [lie west. 
 Oh ! the sweet girls of Erin, &c. 
 
VOLUME I— NUMBER 20. ] 
 
 BOSTON, SATURDAY, JUNE 26, 1858. 
 
 [PRICE FOUR CENTS. 
 
 THE CASTLE OF DUBLIN. 
 
 Below, is a view of purt of the south front of 
 the Castle of Dublin, including what is called the 
 Record Tower, which is now occupied by the records 
 of Ulster King of Arms, those of the late parliament 
 of Ireland, and of Birminghanx tower. The range of 
 apartments to the west of the Tower, are those of 
 the Lord Lieutenant, looking to, the castle garden 
 and St. Patrick's Hall ; at the end of which is the 
 Birmingham tower, rebuilt by Lord Ilarcourt, the 
 under part of which is the castle kitchen ; the second 
 floor, the Round Room, commonly called the Board 
 of Green Cloth ; and the room above is that former- 
 ly appropriated to the custody of the records of 
 Birmingham Tower, now divided into sleeping 
 apartments. 
 
 The road along from the chapel to Ship street 
 gate, was formerly the castle ditch, which was form- 
 
 ed here by the Poddle river, on which, in the olden 
 time, stood two water-mills, turned by that stream, 
 which now runs underneath an arched passage, and 
 at about the middle of the lower castle yard divides 
 into two branches, one of which runs at the back of 
 the houses, on the west side of Palace street, and 
 the other along Palace street, down into the Liffey, 
 where the old Custom House formerly stood. 
 
 The Record Tower was the dungeon or prison of 
 the castle of Dublin, and was coeval with its founda- 
 tion ; the walls are of great thickness — it is built on 
 a rock of black stone. It was formerly called the 
 Ward tower, and in it, for upwards of five hundred 
 years, were incarcerated all state prisoners. The 
 last there confined, were Arthur O'Connor and his 
 revolutionary companions, in the year 1791. 
 
 The history of the unfortunate imprisoned in this 
 tower would supply materials for as many stories as 
 
 are to be found in the Arabian Nights', and many 
 of them romantic in the extreme, of which we may 
 occasionally afford our readers the means of judging. 
 The story of Red Hugh O'Donell, already published 
 by Sir William Betham, and will be by us, is not a 
 bad specimen. These memoirs cannot fail to excite 
 much interest, as they wUl tend, to a considerable 
 extent, to illustrate our ancient manners and his- 
 tory. 
 
 The tower has in more recent times been appro- 
 priated and fitted up for the safe custody of the 
 records, which have little to complain of at present, 
 being well attended and kept in good condition ; 
 and from their testimony we shall be enabled at 
 some future time to speak of those prisoners, who, 
 unfortunately, during former periods, pined away 
 many solitary and unhappy years in those narrow ' 
 and wretched apartments. 
 
 DUBLIN CASTLE-THE lUinUNGIIAM TOWEU 
 
306 
 
 IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 The Castle is Hittintpd on tkchigliost ground, nnd 
 nearly in the centre of the city. It i» divided into 
 two courts, the xipper nnd the lower. The upper 
 court, wliiili contains the apartments of lii:s Kxcel- 
 Icncv the Lord Lieutenant, is a quadrangle, two 
 hundred and eiglity feet long hy one hundred and 
 thirty foet broad, with uniform buildings on every 
 side. Over the principal entrance from Cork-hill, 
 is on elegant statue of Justice, nnd over the otlier 
 gate a statue of Fortitude. The Viceroy's apart- 
 ments occupy the whole of the south side, and part 
 of the cast end ; the remainder of the court being 
 occupied by the apartments and olKces of the Cliief 
 Secretary and various other oiheers of the house- 
 hold. 
 
 The grand approach to the viceregal apartments 
 is a colonnade, at the termination of which is a 
 handsome flight of steps, which leads to the yeo- 
 men's hall, and from thence to the presence-cham- 
 ber, which is furnished with a throne nnd canojiy, 
 tovcrcd with crimson velvet, and richly ornamented 
 with gold lace nnd carvcd-work, gilt. The pbject 
 which attracts the greatest attention is the ball-room, 
 or St. Patrick's hall, so called since the institution 
 of the Order of Knights of St. Tatriek. This noble 
 room, which is eighty-two feet long, forty-one feet 
 broad, and thirty-eight high, is decorated with some 
 fine paintings, particularly the ceiling, the ilat of 
 •which is divided into three compartments, an ob- 
 long rectangle at each end, nnd a circle in the mid- 
 dle. In one of the rectangles, St. Patrick is repre- 
 sented converting the Irish to Christianity ; and in 
 the other, Henry II. seated under a canopy re- 
 ceives the submission of the Irish chieftains. In the 
 circle, his late Slajesty King George HI. is seen, 
 supported by Liberty and Justice, while various al- 
 legorical representations allude to the happy effects 
 resulting to this country from his auspicious reign. 
 The cornice of the room is also richly painted. 
 At either end is a gallery for the musicians and 
 spectators. 
 
 The lower court, though larger, (being two hun- 
 dred and fifty feet by two hundred and twenty,) is 
 more irregular in form, and very inferior in appear- 
 ance. On the north side are the Treasury, the llan- 
 aper, Register, and .Vuditor-Gcneral's Offices. The 
 Ordnance Office, which is a modem brick building, 
 stands at the east end, where is also the arsenal, 
 and an armory, containing arms for forty thousand 
 men, with some cannon and mortars, besides guard- 
 houses, riding-house, stables, &c. There is a small 
 lawn, adorned with trees and shrubs, called the 
 Castle garden, with which the vice-regal apartments 
 communicate by a large flight of steps from the ter- 
 race before the garden front. 
 
 This building was first intended to be a fortress 
 or citadel to secure the English interest in Ireland, 
 and was deemed a place of considerable strength. 
 The entrance from the city on the north side was by 
 a draw-bridge, placed between two strong round 
 towers from Castle street, the westward of which 
 subsisted till the year 1776. A portcullis, armed 
 ■with iron, between these towers, served as a second 
 ■ defence in case the bridge should be surprised by an 
 enemy. A high curtain extended from the western 
 tower to Cork tower, so called after the great Earl 
 of Cork, who, in 1G24, expended a considerable sum 
 in the rebuilding of it. The wall was then continued 
 of equal height until it joined Birmingham tower, 
 the strongest and highest of the whole. This tower 
 which was afterwards used as . a prison for state 
 criminals, was taken down in 1775, and the present 
 building erected on the site, for preserving part 
 of the ancient records of the kingdom. From this 
 another high curtain extended to the AVartkobe 
 tower, which served as a repository for the royal 
 robe, the cap of mainttaiance, and the other furni- 
 ture of state. From this tower the wall was carried 
 to the Xortli or Store house tower (now demolished,) 
 near Dame's gate, and from thence it was continued 
 
 to the eastern pntc-'way tower, at the cntmnce of 
 the Castle. This fortress wus originally encompass- 
 ed with a broad and deep moat, which has been 
 long since tilled up. There were two sally-ports in 
 the wall, one towards Sheep (now Ship) street, which 
 was closed up in 1CG3, by the Duke of Ormond, 
 after the discovery of Jephson and Blood's conspir- 
 acy. Tlie other, whidi aflbrdcd a passage to the 
 back-yard and out-oihces, north of the 'VVArdrode 
 tower, remained till the curtain on that side was 
 taken down to make room for a new pile of build- 
 ings, where the Council-chamber and a new range 
 of offices for the secretaries stand. 
 
 Tlie Castle of Dublin is generally supposed to 
 have been commenced in 1205 by Meyler Fitzhenry, 
 Lord Justice, naturnl son to king Henry II. and 
 finished ill rJ20 liy ilciiry de Loundrcs, Arclibishop 
 of Dublin, but did not become the royal scat of 
 government until the reign of (Juecn Elizabeth. 
 Previous to that period, the Chief Governors some- 
 times held their court in the Archbishop's Palace at 
 St. Sepulchre's, sometimes at Thomas court, but 
 more frequently at the Castle of Kilmainham. A 
 tempest having damaged this house in 1.5.59, Queen 
 Elizabeth issued her mandate for preparing the Cas- 
 tle of Dublin for the reception of the Chief Gover- 
 nors ; and the work was completed by Sir Henry 
 Sidney in l.)(;7, and from that period it has con- 
 tinued to be the town residence of the viceroy. The 
 custody of the Castle was formerly entrusted to a 
 constable, gcntlcman-iiorter, and a body of warders, 
 consisting, previous to the invention of gunpowder, 
 of archers and pikemen. 
 
 A guard of horse and foot, with regimental mu- 
 sic, mounts at the Castle every morning, at 11 
 o'clock, in the same manner as at the Horse Guards 
 in London. 
 
 Numerous interesting narratives might be collect- 
 ed relative to transactions which occurred from 
 time to time within the preciiits of the Castle of 
 Dublin, of individuals, who, as state prisoners, 
 were confined in its strong holds. There can be no 
 doubt that sufficient materials exist for a work, fully 
 as interesting as any of those published by Sir "Wal- 
 ter Scott, in reference to the olden times of the sis- 
 ter kingdom, which have been perused by thou- 
 sands with such interest and pleasure. 
 
 The following is an account of a judicial combat, 
 being an appeal at arms to support the justice of a 
 cause, which was decided in the presence of the 
 Lords Justices, in the inner court of the Oastle, 
 at so comparatively recent a date as the 16th cen- 
 tury : — 
 
 In the year 1.58.3, Connor Mac Cormack O'Connor 
 impeached Teig Mac Gilpatrick O'Connor, before 
 the Lords Justices Ad.im Loftus, Archbishop of 
 Dublin, and Sir Henry 'Wallon) and Council, for 
 killing his men under protection. Teig, the defend- 
 ant, pleaded that the appellant's men had, since they 
 had taken protection, confederated with the rebel 
 Cahir O'Conncr, and, therefore, were also rebels, 
 and that he was ready to maintain his plea by com- 
 bat. The challenge being accepted by the appellant, 
 all things were prepared to try the issue, and time 
 and place appointed, according to precedents drawn 
 fropi the laws of England in such cases. The wea- 
 pons, being sword and target, were chosen by the 
 defendant, and the next day appointed for the com- 
 bat. The Lords Justices, the Judges, and Coun- 
 cillors, attended in places set apart for them, every 
 man according to his rank, nnd most of the military 
 officers, for the greater solemnity of the trial were 
 present. The combatants were seeted on two stools, 
 one at each end of the inner court of the Castle, 
 The Court being called, the appellant was led for- 
 ward from his stool within the lists, stripped to his 
 shirt, and searched by the Secretary of State, hav- 
 ing no anns but his sword and target ; and taking a 
 corporal oath, that his quarrel was just, he made 
 his reverence to the Lords Justices and the Court, 
 
 and then was conducted back to his stool. The same 
 ceremony was observed as to the defendant. Then 
 the pleadings were openly read, and the appellant 
 was demanded, whether he would aver his appeal. 
 Which he answering in the alUrmative, the defend- 
 nnd was also asked, whether he would confess the 
 action, or abide the trial of the same. He also an- 
 swered, that he would aver his plea by the sword. 
 The signal being given by the sound of truinjiet, 
 they began the combat with great resolution. The 
 appellant received two wounds is his leg, and one 
 in his eye, and thereupon attempted to close the 
 defendant, who, being too strong for him, pum- 
 melled him till he loosened his murrion, and then 
 with his own sword cut off liis head, and on the 
 point thereof presented it to the Lords Justices, and 
 bO his aiaiuittal was recorded. 
 
 THE COUSINS. 
 
 Two brothers of the name of Sullivan, some years 
 previous to the time at which our story commences, 
 had quitted the North of Ireland to reside in the 
 South. They were skillful, honest, and industrious ; 
 and the work of their hands naturally prospered. 
 After the lapse of a few years they were universally 
 look upon as among the most substantial yeoman of 
 the county, and were respected alike by rich and 
 poor. Cornelius, the younger of the two, had es- 
 tablished a bleach green, on the banks of the stream 
 tliat turned the elder brother's mill. The bleacher's 
 dwelling stood — always neatly white-washed, and 
 surrounded by wild roses — at the bottom of a little 
 dell, through which the clear water murmured and 
 sparkled on its course ; while the cottage of the mil- 
 ler was built by the mill-side. Corney had been 
 blessed with only one child ; and, without the aid 
 of poetic imagination in any way, she might truly 
 be pronounced a most interesting if not a beautiful 
 girl ; her childhood had been one of delicacy and 
 suffering — and if the .ilmost blighted bud did at last 
 blossom, it still seemed unable to bear the cold 
 breath of winter, or the scorching heat of summer ; 
 but Slary's kind parents shielded her alike from 
 both, and she increased in loveliness and innocence 
 beneath their roof, even as her own water lilies were 
 shaded and nourished by tlif moist and fostering 
 bank on which it grew. 
 
 Mary's father, though an honest, industrious 
 man, had no very exalted ideas of the necessity of 
 giving a female education, and therefore saw no de- 
 fect in his daugliter, who was, to use his own phrase, 
 ' as clean-skinned — as right-handed — as honest, and 
 as pretty a womnn, as you'd see in the country side,' 
 Had it not been for the miller's son, her cousin 
 Alick, I really think slie never would have learned 
 even to read ; but Alick proved himself the very 
 model of a tutor. The boy would sit, hour after 
 hour, pointing with a crow-quill to the half legible 
 words and letters of 'read-a-made-asy,' coaxing, 
 explaining, entreating — but never even reproving 
 his gentle little pupil. It was, however, astonish- 
 ing how rapidly Mary improved when she could 
 once get fairly through a book ; she soon became 
 teacher in her turn — would read aloud the Seven 
 Champions, and the adventures of the robber Frcney, 
 with so much effect, when only thirteen, that Alick, 
 who was three years older, absolutely began to de- 
 liberate whether he, in his own proper person, 
 would become the eighth champion or Frcney the 
 second. 
 
 Alick had only one brother — an elder but not a 
 wiser youth ; for poor ^\■alter — or, as he was usu- 
 ally called Watty — was considered so devoid of in- 
 tellect as to be tuiable to render assistance to hi.i 
 father in any way ; he was impatient of control, 
 idle and restless ; but shrewd withal, and often keen 
 of speech — sometime as just as severe in his remarks ; 
 scrupulously honest, and full of truth ; he loved 
 wandering, imd submitted to the restraint of a mod- 
 rate quantity of clothes with evident reluctance ; 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 307 
 
 liiul a deep, melodious voice, and in early boyhood, 
 a deadly hatred to his brother — ehanged, however, 
 by a simple circumsfunce into as strong an affeetion. 
 The two youths were passing through a distant vil- 
 lage where Alick had been sent to transact some 
 business for his father ; strange boys gathered round 
 and mocked at M'alter, who, with a wreath of scar- 
 let poppies in his black and flowing curls, present- 
 ed to their unholy feelings a fit subject for mirthful 
 seoni ; the color deepened on the cheek of the in- 
 sulted lad, but before he could retaliate, Alick turn- 
 ed on the tormentors, and wielded a shillala witli so 
 much spirit that they fled in all directions ; one, 
 however, — a cowardly, ill-conditioned fellow — sud- 
 denly turned, and directing a stone at the hero, 
 felled him to the earth ; in another moment AValter 
 was bending over his brother, uttering the most 
 piercing shrieks, and wringing his hands in bitter 
 agony ; the effects of the blow was merely stunning, 
 but the afllicted j-outh never forgot Aliek's inter- 
 ference in his behalf ; he became troublesomely of- 
 ficious and affectionate, and would weep like an in- 
 fant if reproved by him, or prevented from follow- 
 ing wherever he went. 
 
 Alick and Mary were, from the circumstance of 
 their birth and education, attached to each other 
 with all that kind and cordial affection which can 
 subsist between two delicate and sensitive minds. 
 But there was another individual who never dream- 
 ed that Mary's heart was not her own, and who 
 imagined that his claims would at once receive un- 
 questioned submission. This was Stephen Cormack, 
 the nephew of the parish priest. His character will 
 be best appreciated by his conduct. 
 
 Mary and her cousin Jessie Armstrong, a good 
 humored, thoughtless girl, who had been at a 
 boarding school in Dublin, and of course knew the 
 • fashions,' strolled out one fine evening to take a 
 walk, and — either by accident or otherwise — Alick 
 joined them. This was not unobserved by Stephen 
 Cormack, who happened to be in the neighborhood 
 and he followed, at some distance, though he did 
 not seem in a particularly happy mood, for he 
 swung his stick from side to side, and most indus- 
 triously decapitated every plant and little shrub 
 within his reach. As he passed under the branches 
 of a lofty oak, and raised his arm for the purpose of 
 destroying some scores of juvenile acorns that clus- 
 tered above his head, his weapon of destruction was 
 wrested from his hands, and, at the same moment, 
 a wild and singular figure dropped from the branch- 
 es. The man of the oak might have served as the 
 model of Hercules ; he had on neither shoes nor 
 stockings, and his pantaloons hardly descended be- 
 low his knees ; a short, tight jacket was girded 
 round his waist by a broad belt of untanned leather ; 
 his shirt collar was thrown open, displaying a brown 
 but superbly moulded throat, on which a fine head 
 was well and firmly set ; he wore no hat, but his 
 hair was bound with a scarlet handkerchief, that, 
 tied at the side in a large knot, added to his pic- 
 turesque appearance. Though there was much of 
 wildness there was no indication of poverty about 
 this wayward being ; and as he laughed and bowed 
 in mimic humility to the priest's nephew, a good 
 deal of keen satiric humor played around his well- 
 formed mouth, and danced in his large brown eyes, 
 which in general were painfully lustreless to look 
 upon. 
 
 ' And had ye no better amusement this fine sum- 
 mer evening, Mr. Stephen,' he said at last, after 
 many extraordinary contorions, and having delib- 
 erately broken the thick stick with his fingers, as if 
 it were merely a hazel twig — ' Had ye no better 
 amusement than mooking about like an ill-contrived 
 spirit, smashing and killing the sweet flowers, that 
 the moonbeams kiss and the merry bees breakfast 
 on ? And then ye must attack the holy tree that 
 the birds — the blue wood-queest, and my spotted 
 lady-thrush — nestle in, and,' (he added in a low 
 
 tone) < the good people thimselvcs dance under, all 
 the long summer nights ! Go home, young man ; 
 keep the holy father's books, and attind to your 
 duties; an Irishman should scorn to strike any 
 thing that couldn't strike agin. Come, turnback, 
 my tight chap, for I was just going to visit madam 
 wood-queest's young family, when ye stopt me.' 
 
 ' Is there a nest in the tree, in earnest, Watty ?' 
 enquired Stephen, looking up amid the branches ; 
 ' I can't see it !' 
 
 ' Yc gawking gomersal !' said "Watty, d'ye think 
 the ould parents, that to my knowledge have brought 
 up honestly nine nest-fulls of as pretty birds as ever 
 stretched wing, would make a shew of their childre' 
 to plase you ? The longer the wild animals live in 
 the world the wiser they get— and that's more nor 
 can be said of you or I, Mister Stephen.' 
 
 Stephen did not much relish the compliment; 
 but he put his hand into his pocket, and extracting 
 sixpence held it up before Watty, who he supposed 
 had all the love of money that frequently character- 
 izes those who, although endowed with quickness 
 and susceptibility, are devoid of the stronger pow- 
 ers of reason. 
 
 ' I'll give ye the sixpence, if you'll bring me the 
 young birds,' said the tempter ; ' and it 'ill be doing 
 good, too, for the queests are the ruin of the corn 
 fields. I won't hurt them,' he continued, seeing 
 Walter's looks of distaste ; ' I'll give them to yoiir 
 cousin, Miss Mary, as a present.' 
 
 'I'm jist thinking,' replied Walter, after a brief 
 pause, as he folded his arms, and gazed, not angrily, 
 but scornfully, upon the countenance of Stephen — 
 ' that ye're the very moral of Ould Nick, except 
 that ye haven't his courage — he's a powerful deal of 
 courage, that same cratur, as all must who go against 
 God — ye're afeard of hurting y'er purty limbs and 
 fine duds to go after the innocent birdeens thira- 
 selves, so ye keep one of the devil's pocket-tokens, 
 to tempt others to the mischief ! Is it the com they 
 ate ? And ye think a nest o' featherless birds, fol- 
 lowed by the wails and the cries of their broken- 
 hearted mother, a fit present to make a tender wo- 
 man ; and ye think, may-be, she'd love ye the bet- 
 ter for having the heart to tear the childre' from the 
 parents? Ba ! ba ! Mister Stephen.' 
 
 Without further query, or waiting an answer, he 
 sprang into the tree ; and as he mounted amid its 
 highest branches, his full round voice trolled out 
 the old song : — 
 
 'Lady I will give you the bells of Londonderry, 
 "VVben you are sad, to ring, to niuke you merry, 
 If you'll be my true lover.' 
 
 'Sir, I'll not accept of the bells of Londonderry, 
 When I'm sad, to ring, to make me merry, 
 Nor will I be your true lover.' 
 
 ' The wild nettle chap !' muttered Stephen, as he 
 proceeded along the tangled pathway ; ' the fellow's 
 always stinging — he's more knave than fool ; fine 
 time he has of it, spying about the trees like the 
 squirrel ; the hares and birds know him so well, 
 they'll hardly take the trouble to get out of his 
 way !' 
 
 Stephen went on, but stopped to make observa- 
 tions as he perceived the party he was dodging seat- 
 ed on a bank. 
 
 ' Mary ! Alick !' exclaimed Jessie, ' as I live, yon- 
 der comes Mister Stephen — don't blush, now Mary ! 
 Come, Alick, j'ou and I will run away, and leave 
 the lovers to themselves, which is only manners, you 
 know — as we say in Dublin.' 
 
 ' Whatever you may say or do in Dublin, I don't 
 know,' replied Mary, rising ; ' but I take it very un- 
 kind in ye to trate me after that fashion ; the young 
 man is nothing to me beyant a neighbor's son — so 
 behave, Jessie, if you please.' 
 
 ' Behave, Jessie, if you please !' persisted the live- 
 ly girl, mimicking Mary's serious manner — ' an't I 
 
 and she seized the hand of Alick, who certainly did 
 not seem disposed to move. 
 
 'Jessie! Alick!' exclaimed Mary, evidcntlymuch 
 moved, ' Do not make me appear foolish ! you know, 
 Jessie, right well, that I Iiave neither love nor liking 
 for him.' 
 
 At this moment, Stephen, who had remarked that 
 he was observed, joined them, which increased Ma- 
 ry's confusion, and Stephen's jealous eye discovered, 
 that as cou.sin Aliek's sparkling glance met hers, 
 the deep, quick blush told unconsciously of more 
 than cousin's love. 
 
 The party rose to return homeward, and when 
 they came within sight of the Bleach House, Jessie, 
 at a turn of the lane, relinquished Mary's arm ; Ste- 
 phen, lover-like, availed himself of the opportunity, 
 and placed it within his. 
 
 ' The path is too narrow for three, Stenie,' ob- 
 served Alick, somewhat sharply. 
 
 ' AValk behind or before, thin, if you like,' retort- 
 ed the other quietly. 
 
 'I'll do neither the one nor the other,' replied 
 Alick; 'but keep y'er own place, and make way 
 for y'er betters.' 
 
 'I will, when I see them,' was the cutting reply. 
 Mary pressed her cousin's arm to enjoin silence, 
 but in vain. 
 
 'If the girls weren't here, I'd soon show ye the 
 differ, for all yc tarry yer head so high— offering 
 freedoms where they're not acceptable, Stephen Cor- 
 mack !' 
 
 ' Stephen ! Alick !— for the sake of the holy saints!' 
 exclaimed both girls at once — as the young men re- 
 garded each other with menacing looks. 
 
 ' Whir — a-boo — boo !' shouted Walter, separating 
 the thick and thorny furze hedge that bounded the 
 pathway, and springing between the contending 
 parties. ' What's the breeze now ? and what are ye 
 frightening my white lily for ?' And circling his 
 cousin's waist with his arm, he waved a huge branch 
 of oak over his head. 
 
 ' Saint Stephen, if you offer to lay hands on 
 Prince Alick, I'll make as nate a little cock-throw 
 of ye, as ever Saint Patrick pitched at ' 
 
 ' For mercy's sake !' said Mary — rousing all her 
 strength for the effort, and disengaging herself from 
 her wild cousin's support — ' do not quarrel for 
 nothing. I have known you both all my life, and I 
 never asked favor from either ; but promise me, 
 Alick — Stephen — promise to forget this foolish — ' 
 
 ' To be sure they'll promise !' exclaimed Walter. 
 ' Prince Alick will do it for — I know what; and 
 Saint Stephen will do it for .' He seized Ste- 
 phen by the back of the neck, and again waved his 
 bough, laughing and singing : — 
 
 'Oh, brave Kinp Brian! he knew the way 
 To keep the peace, and to make the hay ; 
 For those who were bad, he knocked off their head, 
 And those who were worfe, he killed them dead.' 
 ' Oh, I'll promise,' said Stephen, doggedly, ' any 
 thing to oblige Miss Mary Sullivan ; not that I fear 
 or care about a bit of a spree, more than any other 
 boy living ; it's fine exercise, and keeps a body in 
 
 practice ; only to oblige her .' He held out 
 
 his hand, which Alick frankly took ; and peace re- 
 stored, they proceeded to the Bleach Green — Wal- 
 ter jumping and singing with evident glee, but con- 
 tinuing, at the same time, a cat-like inspection of 
 the party. 
 
 ' Come in, and take supper, Stephen ; I see the 
 potatoes are up, and my aunt promised us som e 
 beans and bacon, as a treat, to-night,' said the kind 
 hearted miller's son ; but Stephen declined, wh ile 
 Walter went to him, and, with a solemn look, pre- 
 tended to brush something off his shoulder. 
 
 ' The black boy sticks like a buz on ye, astore — 
 wash him off, Stephen, when ye go home,' observed 
 the half-witted creature, and then sprang over the 
 rude palings that separated the green from the neat 
 
 going to behave like an angel ? Come, cousin Alick !' courtyard. 
 
308 
 
 IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 Stephen fi'lt tliat Alick lin<l n grcntor share of Ma- 
 ry's affections than he liud before imagined ; and like 
 all persons of ungenerous dispositions, resolved to 
 bo revenged. 
 
 LcaWng him to indulge his spleen, we enn return 
 to the Uloach (irein. The events of the evening 
 were visible in the agitation and reserved eonduet 
 of Mary and her cousin ; the anxious inquiries of 
 the parents were aided by the loquneiouaness of Jes- 
 sie; and after various preliminary observations and 
 sage eousultations— after adjusting all dilHeulties, 
 which Alick, in his ardor, soon overcame, it was 
 determined to get a Dispensation, aud "let tlie 
 cousins be married as soon as possible. 
 
 The inmates of the Bleach House had long retired 
 to rest, when Jlrs. Sullivan started from her sleep, and 
 shaking her hushand violently, asked liini if he had 
 not heard a sercsni. Before lio could reply, 'Father! 
 — Father!' was shrieked — and, mcrcil'iil I'rovidence! — 
 in Miu-y's voice. lie rushed to his room door, and 
 endeavored to force it open, but he strained every 
 nerve in vain. Like many doors in Irish cabins, it 
 opened from the outjside; and it was evident that heavy 
 pressure had been resorted to, to prevent its being 
 pushed forward. 
 
 Again the mournful wail, 'Father! — Father!' burst 
 upon his c.ir. He stormed in impotent rage — he con- 
 jured those without, by every holy and sacred tie, to 
 let him go forth. lie then bethought him of the liiilo 
 window that opened on the thatch. Alas! his head 
 conld hardly pass through the aperture. With frenzied 
 eagerness ho endeavored to tear out the casement, 
 even as a maniac attempts to rive his fetters. At 
 length he succeeded, and the mud wall crumbled be- 
 neath his hands. He listened — the affecting words 
 were not repeated; within, the sound of footsteps had 
 ceased, but suddenly without all was bustle; and as he 
 renewed his exertions the tramp of horsemen came 
 heavily upon his ear. 
 
 Again he Hew to the door; it was unfastened; ex- 
 tended on the earthen floor of the kitchen, he beheld 
 Jessie, in a state of perfect insensibility; he rushed to 
 the fore-court; even the sound of the horses' hoofs had 
 died in the distance; he sped to his brother's house; 
 they were not long in coming to his assistance, and 
 accompanied him, speedily to the plundered nest. Ilis 
 wife's state of mind may be better conceived than de- 
 scribed, and the only account Jessie could give of the 
 outrage was, that she was roused from her sleep by 
 masked and armed men entering their chamber, and 
 that, despite her efforts, they rolled a horseman's cloak 
 round her cousin and dragged her forth. 
 
 To rouse tlie neighbors — saddle, spur, and away 
 after the lawless plunderers, was the universal resolve. 
 It may readily be believed that Alick was foremost in 
 exertion, but the rufhans had anticipated pursuit. The 
 saddles in the sheds, dignified by the name of stables, 
 at both houses, were cut to pieces; and a brown farm- 
 horse, with the exception of Atick's poney, the only 
 good roadster in their possession was cruelly maimed. 
 
 The grey morning had almost dawned, before a 
 party consisting of seven tolerably well-mounted and 
 well-armed men, sallied forth in pursuit of the lost 
 treasure. Various were the conjectures as to the prob- 
 able authors of the abduction, and the course the mis- 
 creants had pursued. The Sullivans were silent on 
 the former topic, but seemed to opine that Mary had 
 been carried towards the very lawless neighborhood of 
 Kcenahan's wood. 
 
 Keenohan's wood showed darkly in the distance, as 
 it crept up the Silvoath mountain, whoso craggy top 
 frowned amid the thin and fleecy clouds. 
 
 It was ftproed that one of the party should take 
 charge of the horses, while the others proceeded slowly 
 and cautiously on foot, under cover of the wood. 
 They could not expect any information from the be- 
 ings who inhabited the dreary and dangerous district 
 they now entered, as they were generally believed to 
 subsist by plunder; for, in times of national tumult, 
 suspicious persons always found shelter in the fast- 
 nesses of Silvoah, and many bloody acts of violence 
 had been perpetrated untjer the dense trees. 
 
 A broad and brawliof; stream, occasionally bubbling 
 and frothing over the inipcdimenls thai huge stones 
 and ledges presented to iLs inipeiuosiiy, divided the 
 path (if the course tliey had pursued might be so 
 called,^ and formed an opening, where the air, relieved 
 from its wearisome contincmcnt, rushed in a swift, 
 pure current over the waters. The banks, on the op- 
 posite side, were steep and dangerous. Huge masses 
 of the mountain rock, round whoso base the stream 
 nieandtrcd, rose abruptly from the surface; some were 
 fringed by the thorny drapery of the wild briar and 
 ragged nettle; others were bleak and barren, and the 
 sunbeams glittered on flints and portions of red gran- 
 ite, that, like many of the worldly, basked in the sun 
 ol prosiierily, and yielded nothing in return. 
 
 The ))arty followed the course of the mimic river, 
 and the mountains grew higher and higher as they 
 proceeded. The depth of the water, too, had evident- 
 ly increased, ])robably owing to the late rains; for it 
 washed over a rustic bridge, well known, in the district 
 by the name of 'the friar's pass.' 
 
 Above this simple structure, that consisted of two 
 huge trees tied together, a portion of the mountain 
 jutted, and formed a semi arch of wild and singular 
 beauty. Its summit was thickly imbedded in bright 
 and shining moss, and its glittering greenery was a 
 delightful relief to the eye that had so long dwelt on 
 noisome weeds and rugged rocks. 
 
 While the little party were gazing on the fairy spot 
 a loud shout thundered on their ears; for a moment 
 they were petrilied; and then involuntarily rushed to 
 cross the bridge. Their progress, however, was ar- 
 rested by the scene that presented itself, in what, as 
 they gazed for a moment upon, appeared in mid air; 
 Walter Sullivan — his black hair streaming hke a pen- 
 non on the breeze — in eager pursuit of Stephen Cor- 
 raac, who seemed anxious to gain the patli that de- 
 scended to the stream; but with another shout, or 
 rather howl, Watty sprang on him, as the eagle would 
 on a hawk, aud both engaged in a fierce and desper- 
 ate struggle. 
 
 Neither were armed, but the fearful effort for exist- 
 ence gave strength to Stephen's exertions. With the 
 ferocity of tigers they clutched each other's throats, 
 and, as theyneared the edge, the half-maniac redoubled 
 his exertions to throw his weaker antagonist over it. 
 Alick and his father flew up the cliff. Nothing but the 
 supernatural energy with which Walter was imbued 
 could have saved Corraack's life. He had succeeded 
 in loosening the hold upon his throat, and then, taking 
 him round the waist as if he had been an infant, up- 
 held him for a moment over the abyss, and hurled him 
 forward; had he been pushed over, his doom must 
 have been instant death; the pointed rocks would have 
 mangled him into a thousand pieces; but the crime 
 that would have attached to the hitherto 'harmless in- 
 nocent,' was providentially prevented, and Stephen 
 fell into the stream. 
 
 The combat I have taken so long to relate only 
 occupied but a few seconds — before the worthless 
 youth's associates in crime were able to elfect a res- 
 cue. 
 
 How had Walter thus been able to rescue so provi- 
 dentially, the sweet girl from the grasp of the rulhans. 
 He hud slipped out of the house in a restless mood, a 
 little before the abduction was made; and having come 
 near one of the party in the dark, without being ob- 
 served, saw enough to convince his untutored mind 
 that all was not right. But so rapid were the motions 
 of the gang, that Walter was totally unable, even 
 though fleeter of foot than they, to obstruct their 
 designs by alarm or otherwise, until by a circuitous 
 route, he came down suddenly upon them, as they 
 were forcing his sweet cousin up the narrow and wind- 
 ing path. 'Conscience doth mak# cowards of us all;' 
 when Walter rushed upon them, they thought they 
 had been overtaken by the rescue party, which they 
 were aware would muster before the morning dawn; 
 but it was well for the poor fellow that his friends 
 were so near, for in his eagerness to punish Stephen 
 Cormack, the other rnllians recovered their surprise, 
 and might have had little scruple in despnlcliing him. 
 
 Mary was soon surrounded by her friends, for her 
 father and the men who had taken the other road, 
 joined tlam shortly after llio rencontre had taken 
 place. 
 
 Alick's poney was invaluable; the creature seemed 
 to know its way by intuiiion, and hud now the honor 
 of carrying Mary. Alick guided the bridle, while her 
 father supported her with his arm. Stephen's object 
 had evidently been to force a marriage; and had iho 
 rescue been delayed a few minutes longer, his plan 
 might have been successful. 
 
 Need we relate the result of this adventure? Ste- 
 phen Cormack was never seen in that part of the 
 country again; a dispensation Y"s procured, and tho 
 happy and attached cousins were united, to the delight 
 and happiness of all who knew and estimated their 
 characters. 
 
 THE COMMON SEALS AND DEVICES 
 
 OP THE VAKIOUS MUNICIPAL BODIES OF DIELAND. 
 
 To the Editor of the Dublin Penny Journal: — 
 
 Sir, — The use of seals has from the earliest period 
 formed the strongest evidence of civilization; we read 
 of them in the history of almost every country, and 
 under every dynasty; they form the strongest rivet in 
 the social compact, and have been invariably used as 
 the bond and sign of authenticity in the most impor- 
 tant transactions between man and man; they speak a 
 language that cannot be misunderstood, and not only 
 represent the actual personal identity of Ihe owners or 
 users, but also their most firm resoves and determina- 
 tions; and the affixing of the sigillum has been, and 
 still is, tho fiat of life or death, peace or war, atHuenco 
 or poverty, honor or dishonor. 
 
 There is a class of this description, which, I believe, 
 has never yet (at least in this country) been fully 
 brought before the public, namely, the common seals 
 or devices of tho dilferent corporations or communi- 
 ties in Ireland; the stuily of them is calculated not 
 only to interest the enquiring mind, but also to throw 
 much light on our history, and customs; and a regular 
 collected series of them, I am convinced, would be 
 highly acceptable to the antiquarian or virtuoso. Tho 
 matter has occasionally occupied my attention, and 
 your readers having been presented, in one or two in- 
 stances, with copies of those of some of the ancient re- 
 ligious communities, I have ventured to take up tho 
 subject in a tangible form, and relying for assistance 
 on the contributions of many of 'good men and true.' 
 denizens, citizens, and freemen of the various cities, 
 boroughs, and towns corporate of Ireland, I offer to 
 my fellow-countrymen, through you. No. 1 of die 
 Cabinet of National Seals and Devices. 
 
 It is reasonable to suppose, that at tho period the 
 charters, and consequently the arras and inisgnia of 
 the different municipal bodies, were granted, tho de- 
 vices chosen or conferred were selected as applying in 
 some measure to tho character of the place or its rela- 
 tive importance in the commonwealth, and, in some 
 instances to its local situation or history. We also 
 observe that some of these seals consist only of a single 
 device, while others are perfect emblazonments of 
 arms, with escutcheon, crest, motto, &c. F.xamples 
 in point are hero adduced, premising that, althougJi it 
 niignt ho supposed the arms of the city of Dublin 
 should occupy the first place, yet I am inclined to give 
 the post of honor to the most ancient, and shall begin 
 with that of the Lordship of Newry and Moume, 
 which jurisdiction presents the phenomenon in Irish 
 history of a charter, conferred by an Irish monarch, 
 still in force and still acted upon in its full primeval 
 power and authority. 
 
 Tho seal of the Lordship of Newry and Moume rep- 
 resents a mitred abbot in his albo, seated in a chair, 
 and supported by two yew trees — the motto, 'Sigillum 
 oxempt;e Jurisdictionis de virido ligno, alias Newry et 
 Moume.' 
 
 Newry was anciently called by the several names of 
 Monasterium Nevoracense; Jubh-chin-Truigb; in the 
 barbarous Latin of the age, Monasteram de viridi Lig- 
 no; and in Irish, Na Juar, or Na Yur, signifying the 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 309 
 
 yew trees. A tradition exists to the effect that 'two 
 large yew trees formerly grew within the precincts of 
 the alihey, from which the place was ealleil, in old 
 English, the Newries. The accuracy of the tradition 
 is singularly confirmed by the extract from the annals 
 of the Four Masters, also quoted there, which records 
 that, in the year 1162, 'the monastery of the monks of 
 Newry was burned with all its furniture and books 
 and also the yew trees, which St. Patrick himself bad 
 planted.' 
 
 The next I shall advert to are the arms of Droghe- 
 da, one of our oldest corporations, enjoying that dis 
 tinctioQ since the reign of King John, and held in sucli 
 repute by the heads of the English power in the coun 
 try, that the various chief governors, until ihe reign of 
 Charles 11., made it their occasional residence, and 
 there performed many of the most important acts of 
 their government. The arms are azure, a crenelated 
 gate of two towers argent, poitcuUised sable, sur- 
 mounted by pennons gules; on the dexter, a ship ap- 
 pearing to sail behind the gate, having St. George's 
 ensign displayed over her stern — on the sinister, three 
 lions o( England, issuant or. Crest, on a wreath a 
 crescent and star, argent, motto, 'Deus Presidium 
 Mercatura Dccus.' 
 
 These arms are a strong evidence of the former 
 strength and importance of this town; and point out 
 the security alTorded by its possession to the commerce 
 of England, represented b}' the ship bearing her flag — 
 
 and to her military power, signified by the cognizance 
 of their king— both equally secured and guarded by 
 the embattled gate, which also points out the possess- 
 ion of this fortress as the key of the north, and the 
 sallyport from which they might issue, to curb and re- 
 strain the province of Ulster, in wliich division of the 
 kingdom the Country of Louth was formerly consid- 
 ered. 
 
 Of the crest, viz., the half nipon and star, I cannot 
 speak so clearly. The crescent was usually assumed 
 by those who had distinguished themselves in the cru- 
 sade; — is now, in heraldry, the distinctive mark of the 
 second branch of a family; but although we learn from 
 ancient records, that the townsmen of Drogheda often 
 distinguished themselves in the battle field in support 
 of the English power, yet we never read lliat they, as 
 as a body, 
 
 'Tore the crescent from the impious Turk.' 
 On tlie other hand, it may refer to the influence of the 
 moon on the tide, by which the commerce of this town 
 is maintained and supported. 
 
 That this commerce was, from the earliest period, 
 considerable, is incontestibly proved by the motto^ 
 and long may the citizens of Drogheda have cause to 
 say — 
 
 'God is our safeguard, and raeroliandise our glory.' 
 The last I shall on the present occasion instance, is 
 the common seal of the county of the town of Carriek- 
 fergus, to which I am indebted to Mr. M'Skimin's 
 
 very valuable history of this town. This represents 
 castle, crenelated and turrcted, the base washed by the 
 sea, with a palm branch on each side; the birds I take 
 to be merely ornamental. This device refers entirely 
 to the situation; for although Carrickfergus is un- 
 doubtedly a very ancient corporation, yet it was so 
 exposed to the assaults and insults of an implacable 
 enemy, that it never arrived at any particular impor- 
 tance. Mr. M'Skimin states, that it is said to have 
 been incorporated by King Jolm, .and says, that as 'it 
 is certain sherifl^'s were appointed in those counties and 
 cities held by the English, by Henry II., who were 
 confirmed by King John on his visit to Ireland, the 
 12th of his reign, some of those princes may have cre- 
 ated it a county.' The sherifiFality was held jointly 
 with that of the eiunty of Antrim. The most ancient 
 patent existing respecting them, it is dated September 
 11th, 1326, the 20th of Edward II.; the words are — 
 'The King to his beloved John de Athye, greeting. 
 Know ye that we have committed to you the office of 
 Sheriff of the Counties of Carrickfergus and Antrim 
 to hold during pleasure." In the Down Survey, it is 
 called the 'County Palatine of Carrickfergus.' . Coun- 
 ties Palatine were erected immediately after the con- 
 quest of the country by the English, and were endowed 
 with 'great privileges,' in order that the inhabitants, 
 who were 'subject to continual invasions,' might de- 
 fend them against 'wild Irish.' 
 
 R. Abmstkono. 
 
 THE IRISH FIDDLER. 
 
 \NTiat a host of light-hearted associations 
 are received by that living fountain of fun 
 and frolic, an Irish fiddler! Everything con- 
 nected with him is agreeable, pleasant, jolly. 
 All liis anecdotes, songs, jokes, stories and 
 secrets, bring us back from the pressure and 
 cares of life, to those happy days and nights 
 ■when the heart was as light as the heel, and 
 both beat time to the exhilarating sound of 
 his fiddle. 
 
 Ill Ireland it is impossible, on looking 
 through all classes of society, to find any in- 
 dividual so perfectly free from care, or, in 
 stronger words, so completely happy, as the 
 tiddler. I 
 
 He is in truth a man whose lot in life is 
 happily cast, and whose lines have fallen in 
 pleasant places. The phase of life, which is 
 presented to him, and in which he moves, is 
 one of innocent mirth and harmless enjoy- 
 ment. Marriages, weddings, dances and 
 merry-makings of all descriptions, create the 
 atmosphere of mirth and happiness which he 
 ever breathes. With dark designs, the crimes 
 and outrages of mankind, he has nothing to 
 do and his light .spirit is never depressed by 
 their influence. Indeed, he may be said, 
 with truth, to pass through none but the 
 festivals of life, to hoar nothing but mirth, 
 to feel nothing but kindncs.";, and to commu- 
 
 nicate nothing but happiness to all around 
 him. He is at once the source and centre of 
 all good and friendly feelings. By him the 
 aged man forgets his years and is agreeably ' 
 cheated back into j-outh; the laborer snatches 
 a pleasant moment from his toil, and is hap- 
 P5 , the care-worn ceases to remember the 
 anxieties that press him down; the boy is 
 cniaptured with delight and the child is 
 charmed with a pleasure that he feels to be 
 ■v\ ondcrful. Surely such a man is important, 
 ^ as filling up with enjoyment so many of the 
 ^\ painful phases in human misery. He is a 
 I til msand times better than a politician, and 
 ' a true philosopher without knowing it. 
 ] \ I ry man is his friend, unless it be a rival 
 luldler, and he is the friend of every man, 
 iMth the same exception. Every house, too, 
 every heart and every hand, is open to him; 
 he never knows what it is to -want a bed, a 
 dinner or a shilling. Good heavens! what 
 more than this can the cravings of a human 
 licart desire? Tor my part, I do not know 
 what others might aim at; but I am of opin- 
 ion that in such a world as this, the highest 
 proof of a wise man would be, a wish to live 
 and die an Irish tiddler. 
 
 William Carlcton. 
 Tlic accompanping cut is from a drawing 
 in.idc expressly for the Miscellany, by W. J. 
 Hcnnessy, K>q., of Mew York, 
 
310 
 
 IKISH MISCELLAXV. 
 
 POPULAR LEGENDS OF THE SOUTH. 
 
 ST. LATUERIN*. 
 
 'When tlio »liin-«lK'c* nppvnr in lonely dell, 
 Anil revoU uro rile when niortuls divuiu, 
 
 And wl//ar«U belioUl— but ilftix- nut tell 
 The fj)ell« tluit lire wruiight by hnunleil ntrenin: 
 
 When the ehee-geeli) t rolls its boding oluuil, 
 
 And arrowti nnfeen in vengeftuce tly ; 
 When the roieoof the keener is wild nnd loud 
 
 O'er the mniden that died by the evil eye: 
 
 When the art of the miihvife fttiln to cavo 
 The young mother iloomed to fairy fort; 
 
 When the traveller's Inr'd beneath the wave, 
 Where Uonnll ua Lieela keeps his court: 
 
 What saves in the hour of faery, 
 
 When goblins awake and gnomes have sway? 
 What seatters the ranks of the dread sluu-:iihee, 
 
 That circle the midnight traveller's way ? 
 
 Supreme o'er the spirits of earth and sea, 
 When blessed Lnteerin's name is spoken— 
 
 The Uruid enchantments fade nud llec, 
 And the spell of the midnight hour is broken. 
 
 Through regions remote extends her fame, 
 
 And many a clime and ngc eiin tell, 
 What pilgrims invoking her holy name, 
 Urnnk health at the tlow of her sainted well.' 
 
 Tliese lines are a literal translation of tlic fragment 
 of n son;,-, which rose to a wild and inelnncholy air 
 amiil the tombs and gravestones of Cnliin, as I passed 
 through that little village on a line evening in autumn. 
 The abrupt and irregular spirit of the original Irish, 
 whieh I have vainly endeavored to preserve in these 
 stanzas, the stillness of the evening air, the echoes of 
 the hclj niins aroand, tlie voice where strength and 
 wild sweetness blended, and which to a fanciful mind, 
 would seem that of some supernatural being, (for this 
 singer among the tombs remained unseen,) all con- 
 veying an impulse to my heart which the boasted art 
 of a Catalini would fail of communicating. Alighting 
 from my horse, I clambered over the stile into the 
 churchyard, towards the quarter whence the voice pro- 
 ceeded, and discovered my snpcrnarural vocalist in 
 the person of a wild-looking country fellow of twenty- 
 two, wearing a broad-brimmed hat made of that par- 
 ticular grass called thrancen, ami equipped in a tight 
 pair of sheepskin ine.Npressibles. He was stretched at 
 •"uU length along m grass-grown monument, and beat 
 Mme with a formidable tligh-aljieen, to the music of 
 his wild song on the time-worn slab that sm'mountcd 
 this ancient tomb. 
 
 I had travelled across the steep mountains, along 
 the course of the river Ariglin, and was anxious to 
 procure the assistance of a smith, the horse on which I 
 rode having left a fore-shoe in one of the deep swamps 
 of Pobble O'KeelVe—'Uillo, friend!' said I, 'have the 
 kindness to direct me to the next smith's forge.' 
 
 He ceased his song at the sound of my voice, and 
 seeing a well-dressed person before him, mechanically 
 as it were, started on his legs and took otT his broad 
 leafed hat. I always detest that prostration of spirit 
 which our peasantry too frecquently betray, by dolling 
 the caubcen to broad-dolh, w ithout reference to the 
 merit of the wearer, so I bid him be covered, with a 
 rather bitter remark upon bis meanness of deportment, 
 that sent the glow of sensibility to tinge his deeply- 
 cmbruwned check. 
 
 'Bless your sowl, sir,' said he, upon repeating my 
 interrogation respecting the smith's forge, 'from whincc 
 did you come to en<iuirc for a forge at Cullin? Sure 
 everybody knows that all the coals in Cork, and the 
 bellowscs o' Munsler wouldn't hate iron after the curse 
 of the blessed Lateerin.' 
 
 •Who is blessed Lateerin, and why did she give the 
 curse?' 
 
 '0! its myself knows all about it — often an' many's 
 the time 1 heered the Deerhogh} tell it to the strangers 
 
 * Slua-shcc— Fairy host. 
 
 t Shec-gcchy — Fairy tempest — those whirling eddies 
 wliich raise dust, straws &c., and are supposed by the coun- 
 try people to be caused by the fairies. 
 
 t A Ueerhogli is an old woman that takes care of the well 
 and shows others the manner of paying the rounds. She is 
 supported by the donations ol the itilgiiius. 
 
 that pcd rounds at the well fominst you there; bnt 
 sure a poor spalpeen like mo, saving your presence, 
 nint lit to talk to a daccnt jantleinnn about blessed 
 saints and sieli things.' 
 
 I took my seat on the old tomb, nnd bidding him sit 
 iKside me, encouraged him to proceed. 
 
 'Why, sir, long ugo, whin saints and monasteries 
 were in vogue, three blessed sisters lived in this coun- 
 try, the eldest at Kilmcen, the other at Drumtarif, and 
 Lateerin, the youngest, at Cullin. She kept in a 
 skalp hero where the ould walls of the church are, 
 an' her business, night an' day was praying to Uod 
 and curing all the six that were brought to her far au' 
 near.' 
 
 Here ho called my attention to a oleiir spring in a 
 small meadow, contiguous to the churchyard. It was 
 shaded by an ancient white thorn, which picsentcd a 
 strange appearance, every part of it being covered 
 with threads of various colors, which were fastened to 
 the branches by the numerous crowds that had fuUilled 
 their votive pilgrimages to the well. 
 
 'That well, they say, sprung up to give her water; 
 and when she wanted to cook the dinner, for she 
 could'nt always be fasting and praying, she would 
 bring the seed of the fire in the fould of her petticoat 
 from the smith's forge, for the houses were very scarce 
 at Cullin thin, by all accounts. The three blessed 
 sisters visited each other wince a week; and the holy 
 anpels of heaven, honor and praise be to 'em, made a 
 fine road one night from Kilmcen to CuUen through 
 Drumtarif, because the poor ladies wint barefooted, 
 and the passage was full of wild brakes nnd deep 
 quagmires.* After Lateerin wint to heaven, the bless 
 ed well got great virtue from God in the cure of all 
 disorders. The 24th of July is her pathern day, and, 
 ma-vrone, thin the blind nnd the lame get their walk 
 an seeing here; sure it was only the last pathern that 
 a poor disabled cralher left thini' crutches there at the 
 wall behind him, and galloped home on two good legs 
 like a Mayboy.' 
 
 'But about the curse'?' 
 
 '0! is it the curse you mancl Musha, you're right, 
 sir, didn't I tell you afore, I have no gumption, and 
 am a mere omadhaun at telling a story. Lateerin, 
 sir, was the youngest of her sisters, as I said a while 
 agone, and, as they say, was a purty, tidy woman, 
 considering a saint, and when she wanted a spark of 
 fire, she always put the coal in her petticoat. The 
 smith could not forbear noticing her legs, that for all 
 her fasting were as smooth and white as ivory, but re- 
 spect for she blessed saint kept him silent a long time. 
 But one day as she put the living coal into her petti- 
 coat as usual to light her fire, the smith said, 'Lateerin, 
 you have a beautiful pair of legs.' The poor saint, 
 who never thought of her beauty afore, looked down 
 to see if the smith spoke the truth, whin, God bless us! 
 the petticoat caught fire, and her garments blazed 
 about her. In her grief and lamentation for this fault, 
 she prayed that Cullin might never again have a 
 smith to tempt the innocent to sin, and though many 
 made the attempt, no iron would redden in all the 
 townland from that day So this." 
 
 I arose nnd pursued my way towards Mill street, 
 and have only to add that I made close inquiry re- 
 specting this strange opinion, and found that though 
 the place is well situated for a smithy, being a country 
 village, and a ]ilacc of much resort, having a chapel, a 
 buryingground, and some public houses; it is said 
 that every attempt to carry on the smith's trade at 
 Cullen has proved inefl^ectual, nor has any forgo been 
 seen there within living memory. 
 
 • The remains of an ancient paved way may be traced be- 
 tween the places— it extends to the dittancc of ten English 
 miles. 
 
 A beggar in Dublin had been a long time besieg- 
 ing an old gouty, testy, limping gentleman, who 
 crustily refused his mite. 'Ah, plca.se vour honor's 
 honor,' said the mendicant, ' I wish your heart was 
 as tender as your toes.' 
 
 ANECDOTES OF THE FOURTH REGIMENT 
 OF HORSE. 
 
 IIV AN EVK W1TNK.S8. 
 
 To the Kditor of the Dublin Penny Journal. 
 
 Sir, — Taking a walk a few days ago towards the 
 I'henix Park, I had the good fortune to see a cavalry 
 regiment marching out to a review on the Fifteen 
 Acres, nnd casting my eye on the staft' of ollicers in 
 front I was absolutely dazzled with the splendor of 
 their attire, glowing with gold lace. Each seemed to 
 me a represent aiiou of Pluius, the god of wealth, or of 
 Mars, the god of war. Thinks 1 to myself, it is a pity 
 that this millinery and brocade should ever be ex|«)sed 
 to the rude shocks of war — surely such finery belongs 
 more to the band-box than to the tented field! I was 
 tempted forthwith to consider that such jduuiage does 
 not belong to the eagle or the falcon, but to the popin- 
 jay, the peacock, and the cockatoo. But then I cor- 
 rected myself, and assumed that tliese gallantries were 
 only di.spluyed in the piping time of peace — that these 
 puppy youths were now reposing in the lap of their 
 softer conquests, like Rinaldo in the gardens of Armi- 
 da, or Achilles masquerading among the handmaidens 
 of Diiidainia. But still I could not help contrasting 
 these gay trappings with the regimc-ntal accoutrements 
 of my five grand uncles, whom, in my youth, I remem- 
 ber to have seen in the full costume of the Ligonier 
 Guards, and which said accoutrements are kept with 
 great veneration by an old bachelor relative. These 
 old spoilia have a different cut and character from the 
 golden gauds that decorate our modern chivalry. 
 Why, sir, the old iron helmet, crested with red horse 
 hair, would weigh down the head of one of our present 
 striplings, while the basket-hilled Andrea Fcrrera 
 would sprain the wrist of a modern pretty oflieer. To 
 be sure, my grand uncles were not sons of noblemen, 
 who choose the army, 'pour passer le temps,' but sons 
 of an Irish gentleman, who had nothing to give them 
 but their swords, and thus sent them to win their way 
 through the world, like true Irishmen, hy lighting 
 those whom they never saw before, and cutting away, 
 right and left, all before tbcra. They enlisted as 
 privates in Lord Ligonier's Regiment of Black Horse, 
 and in that boasted assemblage of 'gentlemen,' as their 
 commander with pride termed them, they passed 
 through the gradations of wounds and promotions, and 
 shared fully in the dangers and 'hair-breadth 'scapes,' 
 which entitled the only remaining one who came homo 
 alive, with his skull trepanned, to retire as a 'major.' 
 In order to show the contrast between the cavalry of 
 the present day and that of a century ago, I call your 
 attention to a paper published in the Dublin Literary 
 Gazette some time ago, which, as that periodical did 
 not gain the circulation it deserved, you might give a 
 place in your extensively read Journal. I believe it 
 was furnished by that excellent Irish antiquarian, Mr, 
 Hardiman. 
 
 His Majesty's fourth regiment of horse, commanded 
 by Sir John Ligonier, continued upon the Irish estab- 
 lishment from the conclusion of Queen Anne's wars 
 to the year 1742. This long period of thirty years, nat- 
 urally brought the corps to be composed almost en- 
 tirely of Irish, as I do not recollect at any time more 
 than two or three private men in it of any other coun- 
 try. A regiment eminently distinguished at the revo- 
 lution, and in the queen's wars under Marlborough, 
 found no difiiculty in recruiting. It was in general 
 composed of the younger branches of ancient and re- 
 spectable families, nor was it uncommon to give from 
 twenty to thirty guineas for a trooper s place. In the 
 summer of 1742, the regiment was ordered for foreign 
 service, and so very unexpectedly, that the troop 
 horses were taken up from grass, and the clothing of 
 the men was in the last month of the period for which 
 it was to be worn; under these disadvantageous cir- 
 cumstances was the regiment embarked for England, 
 and upon their march for embarkation for Flanders, 
 was reviewed without respite or preparation, at Houns- 
 low, by the king, in the centre between the Oxford 
 Blues and Pembroke's Horse, newly and completely 
 npiiointcd, and which had only marched from the 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 311 
 
 ncigliboring cantonments for that purpose. No won- 
 (lor tliiit thcro was a. manifest disparity in the appear- 
 ance of tlie corps, the nicngro liorscs of the 'Ulaoks' 
 being scarcely able to crawl under tlic raw-boned, half 
 naked Hibernians who rode them. The old king, 
 however, had judgment to discern the cause, and gen- 
 erosity to make the proper allowances, and wishing to 
 nrtbrd their dejected colonel (who no doubt experi- 
 enced not a little uneasiness on the occasion,) some 
 consolation, he good-humoredly said, 
 
 'Ligonier, your men have the air of soldiers, despite 
 of their clothes, their horses indeed look poorly — how 
 is it!' 
 
 'Sir,' replied he, 'the men are Irish and gentlemen — 
 the horses arc English.' 
 
 The regiment shortly afterwards embarked for Ger- 
 many, and in the ensuing campaign, in June, 174.3, 
 were of the brigade of English cavalry ot the battle of 
 Dettingen. The army being surprised into action, and 
 not having an opportunity of caUing in their outposts, 
 the regiment was but 180 strong in the field; after 
 having sustained a very heavy cannonade from three 
 batteries for an hour and forty minutes, they charged 
 the French gendcrmeric, drawn up six deep to sustain 
 the weight of British horse. From a failure of one of 
 the flank regiments of the brigade, of which the enemy 
 promptly took advantage, the regiment was surround- 
 ed and overpowered, and foiccd to fight their way back 
 through the enemy, as the only means of preventing 
 their total annihilation. In this charge the regiment 
 had fifty-six men, and si.x officers killed and wound- 
 ed,* making nearly one third of the whole. For the 
 remainder of the campaign the regiment did duty but 
 as one squadron. 
 
 Many had hitherto been the taunts and snouches 
 which the two English regiments had thrown upon the 
 Virgin Mary's Guards, (for so the Blacks were termtd, 
 being mostly all Roman Catholics,) but from this pe- 
 riod the tables were turned, and St. Patrick protected 
 the honor of his countrymen. Having served in that 
 engagement in the 33rd Regiment of foot, (.Johnston's) 
 I had fortunately an opportunity of preserving the life 
 of a French nobleman, and having occasion to fall into 
 the rear of the line, to protect my prisoner, I came 
 immediately behind the Blacks, and I then saw an old 
 veteran corporal, and half a dozen comrades, who had 
 fought through the enemy, and were literally covered 
 with wounds ; he addressed his companions with ob- 
 serving their present wretched condition, that they had 
 began the day well, and hoped they would end it so, 
 and collecting this small scjuadron of heroes, they re- 
 charged the thickest of the enemy, and in a second of 
 time not a man of the little band survived. Cornet 
 Richardson, who carried a standard, received seven 
 and thirty cuts and shots upon his body, and through 
 his clothes, besides many on the standard, and being 
 questioned how he contrived to save the colors, he ob- 
 served, (like a true Hibernian,) that if the wood of the 
 standard had not been made of iron, it would have 
 been cut otV. The regiment being provided with new 
 standards the ensuing winter, each Comet was pre- 
 sented with the particular standard he had himself car- 
 ried, as an honorable testimony of hig good behavior. 
 In 174.'>, the Regiment was at the battle of Fontenoy, 
 and on that field there was not a man or horse wanting 
 of their full complement. One man indeed had been 
 left at Brussels, wounded in a duel, but there having 
 been brought up to the Regiment, in a number of re- 
 cruits, one man more than was wanting, the General 
 had ordered him to be kept at his own expense till a 
 vacancy should happen, .so that in reality the Regiment 
 was by one man more than complete in its number. 
 In this action there was a trooper in the regiment, 
 named Stevenson, whose horse had been shot early in 
 the morning. The regiment saw no more of him till 
 next evening, that he joined them at Ath. The men 
 of his troop insisted that he should give an account of 
 himself; that he was unworthy of being a Ligonier, 
 
 ' Colonel Liffonier, Captains .Stewart and Itobinson, 
 LiPiitcnont Cholmly, Cornet liichardson and Quarter Mas- 
 ter Jacksou; Kobinsonand Jackson died. 
 
 and that ho should not attempt to stay in the lines. 
 Stephenson demanded a conrt-martial next day, it sat, 
 and the man being questioned what bo had to say in 
 his justification, he produced Lieutenant Izard of the 
 Welsh Fusiliers, who declared that on the morning of 
 the action, the prisoner addressed him, told him that 
 his horse being killed, he requested to have the honor 
 of carrying a firelock under his command in the gren- 
 adiers, which was complied with; that through the 
 whole of that day's action ho kept slose by him and 
 beliaved with uncommon intrepedity and conduct, and 
 was one of nine grenadiers that he brought off the 
 field. Stevenson was restored to his troop with honor, 
 and next day the Duke presented him to a lieutenancy 
 in the regiment in which he had behaved so well. 
 
 Quarter-master Jackson was the son of a quarter- 
 master in the regiment. His father, not having the 
 means of providing for him, the young fellow went on 
 board a man-of-war in a fleet going to the Mediterra- 
 nean. A party of the crew made a descent on the 
 coast of Sp.ain; this was in 1734. The party was sur- 
 prised, and Jackson made prisoner by the Spaniards. 
 In order to obtain his liberty from a gaol, after twelve 
 months captivity, he enlisted in the Spanish army, and 
 the year following, being in command on the coast of 
 Spain, his party was surprised by the Moors; he was 
 made prisoner, carried to Oran, in Barbary, and ex- 
 hibited as a slave for sale; the English Consul seeing 
 something in his appearance that made him suspect he 
 was his countryman, spoke to him, and finding him a 
 British subject, purchased him, brought him home to 
 his house, and made him superintendant of his family. 
 After some years, he obtained his discharge, returned 
 to Ireland, and found his father still living. Lord Li- 
 gonier permitted the old man to resign his warrant to 
 his son. 
 
 Some time after this, the regiment being upon Dub- 
 lin duty, Jackson, in passing through the castle yard, 
 observed a soldier standing sentinel at the gate, and 
 perceived that as he walked by, the soldier turned his 
 face from him as if to conceal himself. .Jackson, re- 
 turning to the barrack, found himself unusually dis- 
 tressed. He could not banish the idea of the same 
 sentinel out of his mind; he had an anxiety that he 
 could not account for or suppress, to know who he 
 was, and going next morning to the castle, be waited 
 the relief of the guard, and found the man that he 
 wanted. Jackson addressed him, told him that his 
 face was familiar to him, and begged to know where 
 he had seen him before; in short, in this soldier, he 
 found his protector, the Consul of Oran, who had re- 
 deemed him from slavery. The account that he gave 
 of this extraordinary reverse of fortune, was, that 
 shortly after they had parted, his affairs ran into con- 
 fusion; he had out-run his allowance; had overdrawn, 
 was recalled, and obliged to return to England, where 
 upon his arrival he enlisted with the first recruiting 
 party that be met, and now was a soldier with his for- 
 tune in his knapsack. Jackson made every return in 
 power to his benefactor, obtained his discharge from 
 the infantry, had him appointed a trooper in the 
 Blacks, and shared his pay with him. But in the 
 course of six months the unfortunate Consul died of 
 brandy and a broken heart. 
 
 I returned with the regiment to Ireland, in March, 
 1747. F^rom the time of their leaving Ireland, there 
 never was an instance of a man's having deserted — 
 there never was a man or horse belonging to it taken 
 by the enemy, nor a man tried by a general court-mar- 
 tial. There were but six men who died a natural 
 death, and there were thirty-seven men promoted to 
 commissions. 
 
 Remarkahi-e Story oi' a Seal. — About forty 
 years ago, a young seal was taken in Clew bay, and 
 domesticated in the kitchen of a gentleman whose 
 bouse was situated on the sea shore. It grew apace, 
 became familiar with the servants, and attached to the 
 family. Its habits were innocent and gentle; it came 
 at its master's call, and, as the old man descriked, was 
 as fond its a dog, and as ])layfiil as a kitten. Daily 
 ho seal went out to fish, and after providing for its 
 
 own wants, frequently brought homo a salmon or a 
 turbot to bis master. His delight was in summer to 
 bask in tlic sun, and in winter to lie before the fire, or, 
 if permitted, to creep into the large oven, which at 
 that time formed a regular appendage to an Irish 
 kitchen. 
 
 F'or four years the seal had been thus domesticated, 
 when a disease called in the country the crajipawn, a 
 par.alytie affection which attacks the limbs of eaule, 
 attacked some cattle belonging to its master. Some 
 died, others became infected, and the customary cure 
 falling, a wise woman was consulted, who assured the 
 credulous owner that the mortality amongst the cows 
 was occasioned by his retaining that unclean beast, the 
 seal, in his habitation. It must bo made away with 
 immediately, or the crappawn would continue. The 
 superstitious wretch consented to the hag's proposal, 
 and the seal, put on board a boat, was carried out be- 
 yond Clare Island, and there committed to the deep. 
 The boat retu>'ned, the family retired to rest, and the 
 next morning the servant awoke his master, to tell 
 him that the seal was quietly sleeping in the oven! 
 The poor animal had by night come back to his be- 
 loved home, and crept in through the window. 
 
 Next day another cow was reported to be unwell. 
 The seal must now finally be removed. A Galway 
 fishing boat was leaving Westport, on her return 
 home, and the master undertook to carry oflf the seal, 
 and not put him overboard until he had gone some 
 leagues off the isle of Boffin. It was done — a day and 
 night passed — the second evening closed — the servant 
 was raking out the fire for the night — something 
 scratched gently at the door — it must be the house dog 
 — she opened it, and in came the seal, wearied with his 
 long and unusual voyage. He testified by a peculiar 
 cry his delight to find himself at home, and stretching 
 himself by the glowing embers on the hearth, fell fast 
 asleep. The master of the house was immediately ap- 
 prised of the unexpected return, and in the exigency 
 the beldame was awakened and consulted. She aver- 
 red that it was always unlucky to kill a seal, but sug- 
 gested that the animal should be deprived of sight, .ind 
 then again committed to the waves. To this proposal 
 the besotted wretch who owned the bouse consented, 
 and the aH"ectionate «nd confiding creature was cruelly 
 robbed of sight, and next morning; writhing in agony, 
 taken to the outside of Clare Island, and for the last 
 time committed to the sea. 
 
 A week passed over, and things instead of belter 
 became worse. The cattle of the cruel wretch died 
 fast, and the infernal hag gave him the pleasurable 
 tidings that the visitation on his cattle exceeded licr 
 skill and care. On the eighth night of the seal's being 
 committed to the A'lantic, it blew tremendously. In 
 the pauses of the storm a wailing noise was heard at 
 the door the servant concluded it was the Banshee 
 that bad come to forewarn of approaching death, and 
 they hid their heads in bed. When the morning broke, 
 the door was opened, and the seal was found lying 
 dead on the threshold ! 
 
 The once plump animal was a mere skeleton. The 
 poor beast had perished of hunger, being incapacitated 
 from blindness to pursue its customary food. It was 
 buried in a sandhill ; and from that moment misfor- 
 tune followed the perpetrator of the cruel deed. The 
 old hag was banged for murdering the illegitimate oil'- 
 spring of her own daughter — while everything about 
 the man's house melted, as it were, away. His sheep 
 rotted — his cattle died — his corn was blighted — and 
 none of his children came to maturity. Ho survived 
 everything ho loved or cared for, and died not only 
 miserable but blind I 
 
 It takes four things to make a thorough gentleman. 
 You must be a gentleman in your principles, a gen- 
 tleman in your tastes, a gentleman in your person, 
 and a gentleman in your manners. 
 
 A wag, speaking of the embarkation of troops, 
 said : ' Notwithstanding many of them leave bloom- 
 ing wives behind, they go away in transports.' 
 
312 
 
 IKISII MISCKLLA^JV. 
 
 BUNRATTY CASTLE. 
 
 This once celebrated castle was situated on the 
 Clare side of the river Shannon, n few miles distant 
 from Ijinieriik. From the remains of the castle, it 
 appears to hare been a strong square pile of mn^siic 
 architecture, and, like many other edifices of a similar 
 kind, to have suftered much from various attacks of an 
 enemy. In many places its walls have been deeply 
 indented with cannon shot. 
 
 On the division of the conquered lands in Ireland 
 among the Ant;lo-Norman invaders, the territory of 
 Thomond, which comprised within its limits the pres- 
 ent county of Clare, fell to the lot of Richard and 
 Thomas do Clare, younger sons of the earl of Glouces- 
 ter ; with whom was joined Robert Muccgros, as 
 joint proprietor. Muccgro.s obtained from Henry the 
 Third, about the year 12.50, the privilege of holding a 
 market and fair at Bunratty, and in 1277, erected the 
 original castle of Uunratty, near the hanks of the 
 Shannon ; hut in a short time he surrendered it to 
 King Edward ; who granted it, together with the whole 
 territory of Thomond, to Richard de Clare, who made 
 it his principal residence. 
 
 In 1305, the native Irish, jealous of the increasing 
 power of their invaders, besieged dc Clare in this for- 
 tress ; but their undisciplined bravery, and the rude 
 munitions of war, were unequal to the task of subdu- 
 ing the mural defences, and superior skill ot their ad- 
 versaries ; and the Castle of Bunratty remained un- 
 vanqnishcd. Nor were the Iri>li the only enemies de 
 Clare had to contend with. The invaders were divid- 
 ed among themselves, and in the year 1.311, Richard 
 Burke, Earl of Ulster, commonly called the Red Earl, 
 came with a great army to besiege him in Bunrativ, 
 but the invailing forces were met by the valiant de 
 Clare, and under its walls difcated with great shmgli- 
 ter ; John, the son of Ixird Walter dr. Lacie, and many 
 others being slain, and Lord William Burke, and the 
 Earl of Ulster himself, being among the prisoners. 
 
 The natural result of this state of uimatnral conten- 
 tion and unceasing strife, speedily followed. Richard 
 do Clare, although now victorion?, was shortly after- 
 wards slain ; and the native Irish again tjtking courage, 
 attacked the English settlers, drove them Irom their 
 possessions, and in 1315 burnt the town of Bunratty 
 to the ground. 
 
 It appears the castle held ont for some time longer, 
 for we find that, in 1327, the King had assigned to 
 Robert de Wells, and JIatilda his wife, one of the 
 
 BUNRATTY CASTLE. 
 
 heiresses of Thomas de Clare deceased, among other 
 possessions, the Castle and lands of Bunratty; and 
 had appointed Robert de Sutton constable of the cas- 
 tle, and guardian of the lands. The charge must have 
 been considered of importance from the a nountof the 
 salary assigned ; namely, £40 per annum and other 
 appurtenances, a considerable sum in those days ; but 
 his endeavors to preserve his trust were ineffectual, for 
 in the year 1332, the castle was taken and sacked by 
 the Irish of Thomoud. 
 
 Bunratty Castle was subsequently recovered, and 
 re-edified, and became one of the principal seats of the 
 Earls of Thomond, in whoso possession it rcmaine 1 
 until the civil dissensions of the seventeenth century, 
 when it became again the object of contention to the 
 conflicting parties. In it the Earl of Thomond was 
 closely besieged during the year lG-42, and in 1649 it 
 fell into the hands ot the overwhelming Cromwell, in 
 wliosc power it remained during the usurpation ; and 
 in it General Ludly resided for some time during the 
 year IG53 ; the effects of these successive attacks arc 
 still visible, in the shattered appearance of the walls; 
 and several cannon halls have been found about it, one 
 of which weighed thirty-nine pounds. 
 
 Bunratty gives name to a barony and parish, in the 
 diocese of Kill.iloc, is situated near the town of Mecl- 
 ick,andis distant from Dublin about ninety-.seven 
 miles. 
 
 the loyalists was unbounded, and that a few words 
 from him would have more effect than all the artillery 
 he bad collected. His Lordship therefore offered him 
 his life on condition that he would exercise his author- 
 ity with the garrison of a fort called Carrickdrogid, 
 near the field of battle. He promised to use his infltt- 
 ence, and so he did, for being conducted to the fort ho 
 conjured the garrison, in the name of Heaven, their 
 religion, love of country, and the spirits of those who 
 had fallen in support of all that was dear to (hem, to 
 maintain their post, and to bury themselves in its ru- 
 ins, before they would yield it up to an implacalilo en- 
 emy. As soon as he had done, ho turned around, 
 looked on Lord Bioghill with a smile of complacency, 
 and desired to be led to the scaffold. He was aecord- 
 ingly executed on the branch of a tree, within view of 
 the foit ! Co.sc, Leland, and other historians of Ire- 
 land, take notice of this circumstance with the cool 
 indifference of an annalist ; nor did they think it worth 
 their labors to record even the name of a man who 
 acted so galliintly from )irinciple, and who nobly and 
 undaimtcdiy scaled the cause he espoused with his 
 blood. 
 
 Tub Bishop of Ross. — The Siege of Clonmel, I 
 in the year l.'i.'iO, is one of the most memorable in the ! 
 annals of Ireland. Hugh O'Neal, a spirited young! 
 man, with twelve hundred provinciil lrooj>s maintain- ; 
 cd the town in so gallant a manner that Cromwell's 
 temper, arts and 'military strength were fairly put to 
 the test. Ormond, it is true, did everything in his 
 power to succor the he.-.icgcd, but with little effect, 
 Bociius M'Eagan, (Baoihghalach M'Aodghagan, as it 
 is written iu Irish.) the Roman Catholic Bishop of 
 Ross, was particularly active in collecting, animating, 
 and leading on the remains of the troops that Crom- ; 
 well had put to lliglit in dificrent engagements. This j 
 patriotic prelate, who might well be called the soul of 
 his party, at length fell into the hands of Lord Brog- 
 hill, one of the ablest of the parliamentary generals. 
 His lordship knew the value of his captive, and pru- 
 dently resolved to turn a man whom the fortune of 
 war had thrown into his hands, to the greatest advan- 
 tage, lie knew that the inllucnce of his prisoner over 
 
 Rapiditv OF_,l'uiNri.'4o. — On the 7th of May, 
 1850, the Times newspaper and Supplement contained 
 7 2 columns, or 15,500 lines, made up of more than 
 1 ,000,01)0 pieces o( type. Of the matter thus 'set up,' 
 two-fifths wore written, 'set' and corrected after seven 
 o'clock in the evening The Supplement was sent to 
 press at 7:.'iO 1'. Jl ; the first form (page of type) at a 
 quarter to five. On this occasion, 7,000 papers were 
 published before a quarter past six, 21,000 before half- 
 past seven, and 34,000 before a quarter to 9 A. M. 
 The whole impression was thus printed in about four 
 hours. In other words, there were printed one million 
 and twenty thousand columns, of which the matter 
 was unwritten at seven o'clock on the previous eve- 
 ding I The greatest number of copies printed in one 
 day has been 54,0(W; and the greatest printing in one 
 day's publication was on the 1st March, 1848, when 
 the paper used weighed seven tons ! The surface 
 printed every night is stated to be over thirty acres. 
 The weight of type in constant use is seven tons ; and 
 110 compositors and 25 pressmen arc constantly em- 
 ployed. 
 
 . 'A penny for your thoughts, madam,' said a gentle- 
 man to a pert beauty. ' They are not worth a farthing, 
 sir,' she rejilicd ; ' I was thinking of you.' 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 313 
 
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 IRISH MISCELLANY 
 
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 selected cssnys, reviews, poetry, &c., by Irishmen, of first- 
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 which may be enumerated engravings ol the ancient cas- 
 tles aud round towers, the ruins of the old churches, the 
 plundered monasteries, convents aud abbeys of Ireland. 
 
 It will also contain correct Tictorial representations ot 
 ■works of art executed by Irishmen ol the present day, as 
 well as in former times, iu this country and throughout 
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 IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 BOSTON, SATURDAY. JUNE 26, 1858 
 
 TOPICS OF THE WEEK. 
 
 Since we last addressed our readers a sen'night has passed 
 over our head, and brought with it the usual amount of 
 change. The weather, which for some days past, had pres- 
 ented a more decidedly wiuterish aspect than during the 
 winter itself, has again, like a convalescent, recovered its 
 wonted healthiness, and is of that mild salubrity which is 
 indicative of the season.— Congress, has at last adjourned, 
 and what makes the event the more remarkable, is the fact 
 —a cheering one indeed — that none of those disgraceful 
 scenes, such as drunkenness and ' free fights,' which have 
 hitherto characterized the event, were exhibited on this oc- 
 casion; a spirit of harmony reigned in all breasts, and from 
 all we could glean of the matter, the Members, in the lan- 
 guage of Matthew Prior, ' often took leave, but were loath 
 to depart.' A proclamation "of the President summoned the 
 Senate to an extra session, which lasted only two days, and 
 which was spent in confirming numerous executive appoint- 
 ments. — An unprecedented feat in ocean steam navigation 
 has been accomplished: the steamer Vanderbilt, belonging 
 to Cornelius Vanderbilt of New York, has made the run 
 across the Atlantic, from land to land, in the short space of 
 six days and ten hours! thus placing Eui'opcan iuteligence 
 before the people of this country in two days less time than 
 ever it was i-eceived before. Captain Judkins of the Cunard 
 steahaer Persia — the finest ocean steamer afloat — intends, if 
 he can, to outdo this, and place his inteligencc before the 
 public, six days after he leaves Liverpool; if he does so, we 
 may look upon it as the acme of perfection in steam navi- 
 gation. Time was, and that not many years since, when a 
 steamer from England once a mouth was looked upon as a 
 great achievement; but now we have almost daily arrivals, 
 and should the Atlantic telegraph prove a success, we can, 
 with safety, look for hourly communications between this 
 country and the continent. But before dismissing this sub- 
 ject, we must say that it gives us infinite pleasure to learn 
 that the establishment of steam communication direct be- 
 tween Galway and America, appears to he a fixed fact. On 
 the2l8tof last month, a delegation, with the Marguis of 
 Clanricarde and the Earl of Claucarty at its head, waited 
 on Mr. G. A. Uamilton, Secretary of the Treasury, and 
 made so clear and convincing a case of the feasibility of 
 the project, that Mr. II. assured them that 'he would give 
 the subject the most immediate consideration, as its impor- 
 tance deserved.' In the course of conversation it was sta- 
 ted that Mr. Lever proposed to start early in June, a larger 
 vessel than the Cunard liners, and it is understood that she 
 will bring a government mail-bagto this country. This is 
 tlie most cheering piece of iuteligence that has been wafted 
 to us from the other side of the water, and God send that 
 the undertaking may not prove a failure With proper ef- 
 forts, directed in the right channel, Galway may in time, 
 rival ihe opulent city of Liverpool; there is plenty of capi- 
 tal to embark in an enterprise of this kind, and all that is 
 wanted to make it a success, is energy. In the American 
 idiom, our countrymen must 'go aliead.'— The foreign news 
 by the last arrival, is unimportant: Parliament had not' 
 
 done anything of consequence, the Premier, perhaps, not 
 having entirely recovered from the combined ofiects of his 
 disappointment and losses on the Derby ; afiUirs iu India 
 remain unchanged; and in regard to the 'outrages' Lord 
 Malmcsbury stated iu Parliament on the 8th instant, that 
 'from a couverHation that day with the American Minister, 
 he believed that there was no great dificrence in the views 
 of both countries on the point, and from the orders sent 
 out to the ollicers of the squadron in the American waters, 
 no rei)etition of such acts was likely to occur;' while the 
 Times of the same date, argues "that 'the treaties with France 
 and America, as to the slave trade, are at an end, and it is 
 madness for us to go on asserting pretensions to which no 
 strong and independent power is likely to submit. Euough 
 is known to prove that the practice of scarcbing vessels un- 
 der the American flag, ought to be brought to an end.'— Tho 
 accounts from Utah are of so confiictory a nature, that it 
 is hazardous to express an opinion concerning the true pos- 
 ture of afiairs in that territory.— These are all the matters 
 of interest which come under our notice this week. 
 
 OUR NEXT NUMBER. 
 
 The next number of the Miscellany for tho week 
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 of Killamey. Music — Moore's beautiful ballad, 'I'd 
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 Back numbers of the Miscellany, from the commence- 
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 supplied at the earliest possible moment. 
 
314 
 
 IRISH MISCELLANY-. 
 
 Wrilitu for thf Jliscillnny 
 AWAKE ERIN'S WAR HARP. 
 
 BT UAOLMUUADH. 
 
 Let the Sunburst of Kriu wave proudly again, 
 Lufurled from ila bondage, uueulllud by elaiu; 
 And then let the western wind watt o'er llie nea 
 lo the ExileB," these tidings— We strike to be free. 
 Awake Kriu's war harp and let Knglaud see 
 That the sons of the Circcn-Isle dare strike to be frte. 
 
 Shall Irishmen tamely submit to be slaves, 
 And live ueath the rule of vile bigoted knaves? 
 No, no! wlien the war harp shall sound its alarms. 
 The sons of the tireeu Jsic will stand to tiieir arms. 
 Awake Krin's war harp and let England see 
 That the eons of the tlreeu Islo dare strike to be free. 
 
 Up, up with our banner, for with it hojie springs 
 From the depth of despondence, on liberty's wings; 
 l#et her sweep o'er the Isle of the shamruek and song, 
 To cheer the faint hearted and make the weak strong. 
 
 Awake Kriu's war harp and let Kugland see 
 
 Thiit the spirit of 'tIS still lives in thee. 
 
 Though the day star of freedom should sink into night, 
 And the llowcr ot our nation sliould ]>crish in light, - 
 Though the tyrants who rule ns should double enchain 
 The Isle that we love, we will free it again. 
 Awake Erin's war harp and let England sue 
 That the sous of Milesiust dare strike to be ft-ec. 
 
 * Meagher, Mitchell, McManus and the rest. 
 t Milesius, father ol the Milesians. 
 Saraboo, Sauk county, Wis. 
 
 From the Dublin Celtic Union. 
 LEE MOUNT. 
 
 These wide spreading laurels that bend to the Lee, 
 
 How snugly they shelter my Mary and niel 
 
 Kow May brings her showers of white blossoms to view, 
 
 And bathes the green sod in a noontide of dew; 
 
 The red-breast builds here on this moss-covered mound; 
 
 Here purple, and yellow and white shrubs abound; 
 
 Here wavelets glide by, with a murmer of glee, 
 
 At foot of my cot, in this bend of the Lee. 
 
 Ohl white is the bosom of Mary Machrcc! 
 
 And round is the form of my Mary Slachree! 
 
 And low is her voice, and her song sweet and free 
 
 As chaunt of the red-breast that sings to the Lee! 
 
 Tlie cottage fire guiding my pathway at night— 
 The sparkling laggot, so cheery and bright- 
 The round robin here, on this bank by the Lee- 
 All sjwak to my heart of my Mary Mnchreel 
 The star that falls back of the dark heaving cloud 
 Cares less for the love of the star gozing crowd ; 
 
 Thu flower that breathes sweetest where dark shadows be 
 
 My Star— and my Flower— my Mary Machreel 
 Ohl white is the bosom ol Mary Jlachrcel 
 And round is the form of my Slury Muchrce! 
 And low is her voice, and her songfwcet and free 
 As the chaunt of the red breast that sings to the Lee! 
 
 And hers arc the kind words embosomed in truth ; 
 The downy cheeks bright with the blushes of youth ; 
 The footstep, ns light as these soil summer showers 
 Which gleam through the sunshine and freshen theflowers. 
 The bud ot the daisy, all crimson and white, 
 The strawberry blushing, half hid Irom the sight. 
 The trout, seeking shades in the clear-(lov^•ing Lee, 
 All speak to my heart of my Mary Macliree! 
 
 Oh ! while is the bosom of Mary Muchrce! 
 
 And round is the form of my JIary Machree! 
 
 And low is her voice, and lier song sweet and free 
 
 As chaunt of the red-breast that sings to the Lee! 
 
 Written lor the Miscellany. 
 
 NOTES FROM A JOURNAL. 
 
 BY J. i;. r. 
 
 Xo. 2 — Environs of Cork. 
 
 Our first visit to-day was to the Hotanic Garden, 
 
 or, as it is more properly called, 'Fatlier Mathcw's 
 
 Cemetery." This is said to be the prettiest ccmete- 
 
 rj- in the world, with the exception of Pcre Ic 
 
 Chaise in Paris; and, -with Grccn'«'ood and Mount 
 
 Aubtim in America, fresh in my mcmor)-, with 
 
 their many beauties, I must say this surjia.sses them . 
 
 There is one fault, liowevcr, -witli this, and that is, 
 
 the bad state of repair in -(vhich the pntlis are 
 
 kept, the visitor sometimes being uneertain as to 
 
 ■whether he is ou the path or lieedlessiy treading on 
 
 the grave of some loved one beneath, so thiek are 
 the w ulks overgrown with weeds. 
 
 This cemetery was purchased by Tnthcr Jlathcw, 
 out of liis private purse, for tlio Catholic citizens of 
 Cork, and laid out under his .supervision. Jlis own 
 grave stands in the ccutro, surmounted by a simiile 
 cross, with only his name and age inscribed on a 
 plain slab. There were several persons liere, who, 
 bareheaded and barefooted, weie taking the pledge 
 over the grave of the Apostle of Temperance, and 
 surely he who kneels here and pledges himself, with 
 the Divine assistance, to refrain from using into.xi- 
 eating drinks, -will have the approving smile of 
 rather Mathew on high. There is a handsome 
 monument to his brother, a sea-captain, who died 
 olfthe coast of Africa, and a neat and costly monu- 
 ment to Fatlier Slathew's secretary, Thomas McKen- 
 na, who died in 1846. There are many pretty epi 
 taphs here, but I have only room for the following 
 but whether original or not, I cannot say: 
 
 inducements to take tlic 'Saxon shilling,' but not a 
 word is said about sending them to India to be shot 
 down by the revengeful Sepoys; to whom I say— 
 success attend you. 
 
 [To be Continued.] 
 
 llf' The following Is the first of a scries of papers 
 written for the Miscellany by an accomplished writer. 
 They will' be found interesting as they proceed. This 
 it will be seen, is mciely introductory. 
 
 WALKS AND TALKS. 
 II V vi;u.soN. 
 
 'As I walked by myself, 
 I talked to myself. 
 
 And thus myself said to me.' 
 
 'If to fulfil the duties of our stale 
 Makes us both truly good and nobly great; 
 If modest worth and virtue form the man. 
 Then bright and stainless the career he ran. 
 Yet such wuB he who now lies 'ueath this sod, 
 An honest man, the noblest work of Ciod." 
 
 Leaving these palaces of the dead, we returned to 
 the city, and took the train for Passage, four miles 
 distant, and then crossed over in the steamer to 
 Cove, or as it has been called since Her Majesty 
 landed there, Queenstown. Opposite here, is Spike 
 Island, used as a convict station for some yoars,and 
 where Mitchel was at one time imprisoned. There 
 is a gorgeous hotel in Queenstown— the 'lloyal 
 Victoria,' its flunky owner giving it that title, be- 
 cause, forsooth, Queen Vic condescended to tarry 
 beneath its roof. 
 
 Seeing flaming handbills about the streets, giving 
 notice that the 'Koyal Alice' steamer, with a band 
 on board, would make an excursion down the har- 
 bor, we procured tickets and jumped aboard, and 
 were soon streaming it down below Queenstown, 
 passing two British men-of-war, %\ith their grim 
 looking cannons peeping from the port holes. Our 
 steamer was gaily decked out with flags and strea- 
 mers innumerable, but the 'stars and stripes' the 
 flag of the free — was not among them. However, 
 that ship yonder has it flying from her mizzcnmast. 
 All eyes were directed towards the proudest flag 
 that ever waved, the 'stars' to guide her onward, 
 and the 'stripes' for the castigation of her enemies. 
 My Yankee friend left me, and whispered in the ear 
 of the leader of the band, -when lo! 'Hail Colum- 
 bia' and 'Yankee Doodle' were pealed forth in spirit 
 stirring strains, and I think they must have found 
 an echo in many an Irish heart on board the 'Koyal 
 Alice.' After a delay of about an hour at Cross- 
 haven, where tliey landed us in order to eat our 
 cold dinner, (if we had any) the steamer started ofl' 
 and ascended the mouth of the Carrigaline river; 
 and here the scenery equals, if not surpasses Killar- 
 ney. Both sides are thickly wooded, and the 
 steamer passes quite close to the shore on either 
 side. Returning, we ascended the mouth of 
 'The pleasant woters of the river Lee.' 
 The entrance to Cork is said to be the most pic- 
 turesque in the world, and certainly, if a stranger 
 first lands there, he will be impressed ivith a good 
 opinion of 'the dear little Isle.' There are many 
 splendid mansions on both sides of the Lee, but it 
 is needless to particularise them. The steamer 
 landed us at the foot of St. Patrick street at 6 P.M., 
 and after a dinner at the '(jlobc' we visited the 
 Cork barracks, said to be the best in the United 
 Kingdom. The walls arc all coveied with pictures 
 of dashing dragoons on horseback and 'bold soldier 
 boys' decorated with medals, coupled with strong 
 
 • The last line is borrowed (rom the fourth book of Pope's 
 'Essay on JIaii.' Tlie preceding lines, however, arc doubt- 
 less original.- Ed. I. M. 
 
 Here, in the pleasant city of >Vsshington, the se- 
 rene scat of the Senate, and, at the same time, the 
 tumultuous hive of the House, I have walked and 
 talked for sundry years, indeed ever since that 
 memorable period of the world's history when I 
 first acquired those accomplishments. Therefore, 
 though the City of Congress hath great extent, (at 
 least on the map thereof,} it may be supposed that 
 I have seen and said much about it. And now it 
 appears to me that some of these things may inter- 
 est the States. 1 commission you to deliver them. 
 For Washington is the child of the Union, and, as 
 better known, -will be better loved. Moreover, a 
 love of the 'little one' is often the strongest bond of 
 matrimony. 
 
 'And so, without more circumstance ot all, 
 I hold it lit that we shake hands'— and walk. 
 First to the Capitol, of course. A crowd is hur- 
 rying in that direction. AVe may bo in time to wit- 
 ness the adjournment of Congress. Do not stop to 
 examine Pennsylvania Avenue, the Broadway of 
 the city, though it would give you pleasure to do so, 
 for the world has no street so grand — but, with eyes 
 intent on yonder height, where stands the temple of 
 Freedom, in its unfinished condition appearing like 
 a ruin of old Borne,— let us pass right on— through 
 the beautiful garden now, now up the steep .steps, 
 and now into the Hall of lUpresentatives. Ha! 
 you are weary, you are nearly breathless! Wc 
 have climbed, indeed; we are far above every roof 
 of the city. But here, the gallery extends its cush- 
 ioned seats. Best, rest; and gazo on the glorious 
 architecture around, and on the animated scene be- 
 low. The light enters only from the ceiling, which 
 is nearly all of glass, emblazoned with the coat-of- 
 arms of each state. Bith colors and gold glow and 
 glitter there: rich colors and gold cast back the 
 glow and glitter from every wall. From every wall 
 the penciled scenes of our noble history and tJie 
 marble-immortals of the Bevolution, will soon ap- 
 pear, a« panels and niches shall reveal the genius of 
 Art. This gorgeous Hall, though now incomplete, 
 is full of promise of unprecedented beauty. Those 
 who condemn it, as gaudy, speak too soon. Let 
 them wait the perfected work. This much is at 
 once evident: that it is thoroughly lighted and ven- 
 tilated, cool in summer and warm in winter; that 
 the Members can be seen and heard; and that con- 
 venience and luxury are found. Listen now it re- 
 quires no effort — nor any to speak. Every word 
 comes to us as distinctly as if wc were in our own 
 small parlor. The only clfort at this moment, is 
 not to hear, for the jubilant Congress sends forth 
 shout after shout, as the announcement is made 
 that 'the House is now adjourned!' Desks are put 
 in order, or disorder; the great red-cushioned 
 chairs are wheeled back; friends are exchanging 
 kind wishes and farewells, and all is like the joyous 
 confusion of a school dismissed, with charming an- 
 ticipations of the holiday. Go again to your homes, 
 ye chosen of the land, and bear within your hearts 
 evermore to be guarded sacredly, the good feeling, 
 the respect, the love which jour mingling here has 
 taught ye; and, in your turn, teach others friend- 
 
 J 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 315 
 
 ship and charity; that wc are brothers; and tluit 'in 
 union there is stiength.' So ends the session of 
 Congress. 
 
 And so must end ojir >valk and talk of to-daj'. 
 Tliere is much I would show you, much I would 
 say to you, yet, even on the subject now before us; 
 but we must take the advice of an anoniraous phil- 
 osopher, and 'wait u week.' Thus far is scarcely 
 an introduction. The curtain has risen but a little; 
 you have had merely a glance at the scene. Not 
 the first act is over. Ere tlie end I trust your in- 
 terest will be excited, yoxir fancy pleased, your ad- 
 miration secured; and, here and there, a profitable 
 tliought be captured, which like a sweet bird, shall 
 sing to you pleasantly many a day, and nestle on 
 your breast through many a night of happy dreams. 
 rarewcU. 
 
 CORRESPONDENCE. 
 
 Notre Dame, St. Josepu's Co., Ia. 
 Editors of the Miseellatiy: — 
 
 Gentlemen, In the prospectus of the first number of 
 tlie Irish Miscellany that fortuitously came into my 
 hands, I was glad to see that one of the principal ob- 
 jects of your Miscellany was to place before the Amer- 
 ican public another side of that picture at which it has 
 so long looked with scorn and contempt; to place be- 
 fore the public that side which has been and is malic- 
 iouslj' and wantonly concealed from the view by the 
 enemies of our creed and our race; to place, in a word, 
 before the numerous readers of our country, Ireland 
 and the Irish, in a literary point of view, and thus ef- 
 fect at one and the same time, the admirable results of 
 counteracting the libellous circulation, that Ireland is 
 a land of slaves, and the Irish an ignorant and besotted 
 race, and of showing many an unhappy youth, who, 
 otherwise, on account of bis ignorance of the contrary 
 truths, might be tempted, as many others have been, 
 to deny his country and his race. Since the perusal 
 of that prospectus, I h.ave been a constant, and I flat- 
 ter myself, a very attentive, reader of the Irish Miscel- 
 lany, and it is with more than ordinary satisfaction, 
 gentlemen, that I am able to say in strictest truth and 
 justice, that you have worthily adhered to your object. 
 And it is with the conviction that your columns are 
 always open for matter, in how unworthy soever a 
 garb it may present itself, that will tend to stem the 
 current of prejudice against every thing Irish, that I 
 undertake to give you a brief account of a recent cele- 
 bration, prepared chiefly by Irish youth, or youth at 
 least of Irish descent, at which it was my very great 
 happiness to be present. 
 
 On the 3d of June, by special invitation from the 
 members of the St. Aloysius Nocturnal Adoration and 
 Archconfratcrnity Societies of the University of Notre 
 Dame. I found myself in company with a most social 
 collection of youths, on my way to the sylvan scene 
 where the social board was laid. Through pleasant 
 paths and delightful foliage, we arrived at the destined 
 place, where we were met by the Rev. Clergy and Fac- 
 ulty of the University. A moment after our arrival, 
 all l)eing invited to their places, wc were hailed by a 
 lively and delightful air from the CoUcgn Brass Band. 
 Sealed at the festive board, so neatly and tastefully 
 arranged, we were supplied with a variety of viands 
 that would almost seem to border on prodigality, and 
 80 orderly and tastefully was this part of the entertain- 
 ment conducted that it reflects the highest credit on 
 the yonng gentlemen of the committee. Having par- 
 taken with the utmost satisfaction of this charming re- 
 past, the scene was enlivened by another air from ihc 
 band, after which the toast-master arose and read the 
 following to.asts: — 
 
 1st — Notre Dame. Music. 
 
 The Ver)' Kev. Superior was called upon to respond 
 but declining the honor, called upon Prof. G. Jones, 
 who, in a brief discourse, graphically portrayed the 
 feeble beginning, the almost incredibly rapid growth, 
 and the present eminence of that institution, a toast to 
 which he felt proud and honored to respond. You 
 behold, said the learned professor, on the opposite 
 
 bank of yonder lake, the sight of a small log hut, not 
 much larger than an Indian wigwam; there it was 
 that the present University of Notre Dame was nurslcd; 
 Ihcrc it was that lifieen winters ago a small colony of 
 Holy Cross first arrived with frozen feet; there it was 
 on that snow-covered spot, whose whiteness was a fit 
 emblem of the purity of her under whose patronage it 
 was placed, that it first took its rise, and from which 
 not only against the persecutions of enemies, but what 
 is more cruel, more treacherous, the oppositions and 
 contradictions of false friends, it has arisen to that em- 
 inence — to that distinction which it holds in the esti- 
 mation of a patronizing public. The learned profes- 
 sor concluded by thanking the Very Rev. Superior for 
 the honor he had conferred upon him, and took his 
 seat amidst a loud and hearty applause. 
 
 2d— The Church. Music. 
 
 Responded to by Rev. F. Granger, S S. C, a pa- 
 thetic, and very happy discourse. 
 
 3d. The American Hierarchy. Music. 
 
 Responded to briefly and worthily by Kev. F. Gil- 
 ispie, S. S. C. 
 
 4th — The Flag of our Union. Music — The Star 
 Spangled Banner. 
 
 Prof. Jones was called upon to respond to this 
 toast, which he did in a masterly and patriotic man- 
 ner. 
 
 5th — The Hoosier State. Music. 
 
 Responded to by Mr. G. A. Goldsberry. 
 
 6th — The American Press. Music. 
 
 Responded to by Mr. W. H. Drapier, 
 
 7th — Classical Literature. Music. 
 
 Responded to by Prof. A. B. Downing, LLD.,in 
 a learned and lengthy discourse. 
 
 8th — Eloquence. Music. 
 
 Responded to by Mr. John Collins, a youth of 
 very promising abilities. 
 
 9th — Civil and Religious Liberty. Music. 
 
 Responded to by Father J. Dillon. 
 
 To give you, gentlemen, a more lengthened detail 
 of the intellectual treat, a mere skeleton only, of 
 which is presented in the foregoing, would aftbrd me 
 intense pleasure; and would, I have no doubt, be in- 
 teresting and instructive to many of your numerous 
 and intelligent readers, for the responses were re- 
 plete with matter the most interesting and instruc- 
 tive. From being more lengthy, however, I am de- 
 terred by the fear that I have ah-eady trespassed too 
 long on your kind indulgence. Suffice it then, to 
 say, in the words of one of the learned guests : ' I 
 have attended many celebrations, and scarcely with 
 any have 1 been better ideased, with none more edi- 
 fied.' 
 
 The fact, gentlemen, that the foregoing details 
 might be interesting to your readers, suggested it- 
 self to my mind, and for this reason, that in the same 
 Journal wherein is graphically portrayed the learn- 
 ing, the genius, the patriotism of Irishmen of other 
 days ; that there, also, they may see and read with 
 pleasure, that in a land where Irish is synonymous 
 witli anything but what is honorable, there are 
 youths — Irish youths — preparing themselves to walk 
 worthily in the honorable foot-prints of their im- 
 mortal ancestors. M. 
 
 A MIDNIGHT RIDE 
 
 IN NINETY-KIGHT. 
 
 Part 2. 
 I found myself trampling on foot through a wild 
 mountainous district, within half an hour after the 
 occurrence described at the close of my last chapter. 
 I was surrounded by the party who had so abruptly 
 arrested my progrese — the leader, who was styled by 
 his companions Tom llackctt, being mounted on my 
 mare, and maintaining a rigid silence. With the 
 exception of occasional remarks upon the state of 
 the roads, and the genealogy and worldly wealth of 
 the farmers on the road along which they were 
 marching, little was said by any of them. Immedi- 
 ately after my ignominious overthrow, my pockets 
 
 had been rifled of their contents,and, amongst other 
 things, of letters from my father to Mr. Gilbert, in 
 which the conduct and character of the rebels was 
 commented upon in no very favorable terms. This 
 discovery, though I was unable at that time to per- 
 ceive its importance in relation to my own prospects, 
 was anything but agreeable, as it led to my being 
 set down as a spy and deceiver, and liable to all the 
 consequences which such a character entails upon 
 him who is found bearing it in a time of war. That 
 weary night stamped itself too truly on my memory 
 ever to be forgotten. I think we must have tramped 
 on at least twenty miles along rough mountain roads, 
 stormy and precipitous, my thin town boots torn, 
 my feet blistered and bleeding, and my bones aching 
 with fatigue. Once or twice we stopped at cabins 
 on the way-side ; the inmates were rudely roused, 
 and compelled to furnish us with food which they 
 had at command, and this, with copious draughts of 
 whiskey and water, partially supported my falter- 
 ing strength. When the sun began to peep above 
 the horizon, I was blindfolded, and after another 
 half hour's march, the bandage was taken off, and I 
 found myself at the door of a long, low-lying thatch- 
 ed farm-house, with a huge yard, containing a heap 
 of manure of almost equal size in front. Three or 
 four men were sleeping upon stone benches by the 
 wall, and raising themselves up at the noise made 
 by the opening of the door, lay down again to snore, 
 upon the leader of our party e-xclaiming, ' Fair an' 
 aisy goes far in a day.' 
 
 &. Upon entering, I was detained a moment in the 
 walled-ofT passage, which in most Irish farm-house 
 shields the fire from the draught of the door, whilst 
 one of my captors went forward into the room. I 
 could hear a conversation carried on for a few min- 
 utes in a low tone, and then a loud stern, order : — 
 
 ' Bring him in.' 
 
 ' Yis, giniral,' was the reply; and rounding the 
 corner, I found myself face to face with the famous 
 ' General' Holt, or as he was better known, ' Ginir- 
 al Hoult.' 
 
 He glanced carelessly at me for a moment, and 
 then drew aside his coat tails, and stood with his 
 back to the fire. I was struck upon the instant by 
 the tremendous energy in his Ups, and the shai-p, 
 piercing glance of his grey eye. He was not above 
 the middle height, but the exquisite symmetry of 
 his limbs, displaped fully by tight fitting buckskin 
 breeches and top-boots, the breadth of his chest, 
 and the lofty and commanding air with which his 
 head was perched upon his shoulders, gave him all 
 the dignity which one generally connects with six 
 feet and a half. A green coat and epaulettes, a 
 cocked hat and feather, and a heavy broadsword, 
 made up the sum of his equipments. A small table 
 with writing materials stood in the corner of the 
 room. A few muskets and pikes were piled on a ta- 
 ble near the lower end of the room, and on the stairs, 
 chairs, and a settle, some dozen men were lounging 
 wearily. 
 
 •What s year name?' said he, eyeing me sternly for 
 a few moments. I gave it. 
 
 'Where d'ye come from!' 
 
 'Dublin.' 
 
 'An' where wor ye going to?' 
 
 'To Mr. Gilbert's.' 
 
 'An who wrote this letther?' pointing to my des- 
 patches, which lay open on the table. 
 
 'My father.' 
 
 'Well,' striking the tabic, 'you'll never carry any 
 more Icthers for him nor any one else, and nayther 
 will ould Gilbert resave any. Yc'll die the death of a 
 trathur this very cvenin. Take him away.' 
 
 I was forlhwith dragged away, and confined in a 
 sort of garret, on the first and only floor of which the 
 house could boast, except the ground one. The heat, 
 as the sun rose and shone fiercely on the roof, was 
 stifling. After several hours of painful anxiety and 
 horrid misgivings, my breakfast was brought me by a 
 young woman, very fat, and very ruddy, but anything 
 
31C 
 
 imSH MISCELLANY. 
 
 bat handsome, iilio was course and deeply pock- 
 marked, but tliero was a kindly beam to lier eye which 
 made my spiriis rise for iho moment. There was no 
 guard upon my room except the locking of the door, 
 but I was elVeetnally secured, Irom the fact that there 
 was no window, save a small one through which I 
 could hardly drag my leg. I ventured to open up a 
 conversation with her whilst she was plncini; my meal, 
 rousisiin); of mutton chops, a lililc too much done, 
 upon the top of a chest, which, with a bed, formed the 
 only furniture of the room. 'Don't be cast down, 
 alyanna bawn,' said she, using a freedom which my 
 extreme youth made excusable; 'but bore a hole in 
 the thatch and run along the roof o' the house, and 
 ye'll find yer little horse tied to a three at the far end 
 of the grove, at sunsit this evcnin. The road to Grana 
 Hall is straight up the hill, and ride for your life, for 
 the boys is goin to bum it over the ould masthcr's 
 head this very night. Don't make a noise, an' ye'll 
 be all safe. Sure they're drinkin' an' carousin' below 
 like wild bastes." 
 
 She ran out and locked the door without giving mo 
 time for an answer. Towards afternoon, however, in- 
 stead of thinking of making my escape, I was in mo- 
 mentary expectation to be dragged forth to execution, 
 but by the sounds of merriment proceeding from the 
 kitchen, I concluded 1 had been forgotten, and in- 
 stantly roused myself. After breaking through the 
 dry sod, called tlio 'scraw,' which is immediately over 
 the rafters, it was no diflicult matter, though a very 
 dirty job, to get through the thick coating of rotten 
 thatch which formed the roof. I dropped into the 
 grove, found the Lyanna attached to a tree about the 
 place mentioned, galloped away for my life. Towards 
 the evening 1 rode up to the door of Grana H.tU, and 
 dismounting in hot haste, told my story. Old Mr. 
 Gilbert instantly set about making preparations for his 
 defence. Old fire-anns were routed out and furbished, 
 the furniture piled up in back rooms, the beds heaped 
 tip close to the windows ready to be used as a bulwark. 
 The servants were all called in, and such of the tenant- 
 rj' as were supposed to be still untainted by revolu- 
 tionary principles; a cow was killed and salted, and 
 every other measure which prudence or experience 
 could suggest, was taken to prepare for a long siege. 
 The ladies were idaced in the cellar, wiih a carpet, a 
 bed, a table, and a few chairs, and some refreshments. 
 All this was done before nine o'clock, and then for the 
 first lime I had a few minutes leisure for rest and con 
 versatiou. The Misses Gilbert were dreadfully alarmed, 
 their father was blustering and blowing like a porpoise 
 and the retainers, some a little pale at the thouglit of a 
 fight in earnest, and others panting for the fray. The 
 house was a large square building, covered on all sides 
 from the roof to the ground with slates. A grove of 
 trees at the end was felled to prevent its aSbrding 
 shelter to the besiegers, ami all the doors limily barri- 
 caded. 
 
 But it was evident that if we were attacked by a 
 strong force, and that they possessed any ordinary 
 amount of bravery and perseverance, it was impossi- 
 ble thai w^e could hold out, considering the state of 
 our defences. We came to a resolution, which I am 
 now surprised we did not think of sooner, and that 
 was to despatch a special nicssenger to Hacketstown 
 for assistance from the garrison. He mounted and 
 rode off, and we watched him from tlie wimlow riding 
 down the avenue to the road. lie had not reached the 
 gate, when we heard the sharp crack of a musket, and 
 saw him fall heavily from his horse. In a moment 
 afterwards the rebels were seen advancing along the 
 lawn in a dense column and at a rapid rate. 
 
 We all ran instantly to our posts, and had no sooner 
 done so than a shower of bullets rattling on the slates 
 told us that our only hope now lay in our courage. 
 Upon coming np within musket shot the besiegers 
 scattered themselves behind the hedge-rows, ditches, 
 ont-olTices, and haystacks, those who had guns firing 
 as often as they could reload, and those who had not 
 'doing' the yelling and execration for the others. The 
 scene now became really awful; to anyone not eng.iged 
 in the conllict it would havs been splendid. To a day 
 
 of unclouded splendor had succeeded a night of murky 
 darkness. The clouds lay on the sky in heavy black 
 masses, or moved lasiily before a breeze rising with a 
 low murninring sound, and through this gloom the 
 flash of every musket, in those days of Hint locks, was 
 seen with ihe distinctness of a watchfire. Kver and 
 anon, as our parly yelled out, 'Crojipy, lie down!' 
 'Orange, lie down!' came back wiih ragcful loudness 
 from behind the walls and trees. We hud divided 
 ourselves into panics for each room, the best shots 
 taking their ]duccs at the windows, and the otiicrs 
 loading. The marksmen shcliered themselves behind 
 a pile of bedding, and strictly reserved their lire until 
 there was a tolerable certainty of hitting — a precau- 
 tion rendered al)soluely necessary in consequence of 
 our limited supply of aninmnilion. Despite our care, 
 however, it was not long before two of our best men 
 were struck down by the deadly skill of ihc Shilraaleer 
 marksmen, who abounded in the ranks of tlie rebels, 
 and whose long guns, used in shooting the wild ducks 
 in the marshes on the Wexford coast, carried certain 
 death at one tlionsond yards. 
 
 The firing went on for two or three hours, and at 
 last that of the besiegers totally ceased; but I believe 
 the pause was more dreadful to us than tlie fury of an 
 engagement. The darkness, the silence, the uncer- 
 tainty, the fear of a 'coup de main,' and the distinctly 
 heard groans of the wounded men from the adjoining 
 room had each something terribly disheariening. The 
 cause was soon made apparent by ihe approach of two 
 parties at a swinging trot, each carrying a ladder cov- 
 ered with long planks to protect tliera from our fire. 
 They succedcd in planting thcra against two windows, 
 and a great number began to mount, every man, to 
 our great sarprise, having a pillow in front of him, 
 which ho pushed up to shelter him as he ascended. 
 This device, however, proved futile, as we picked off 
 the pillows with the point of a long pike, as soon as 
 they got near the top, and then shot down their bear- 
 ers. 
 
 It was just midnight, and the rain was beginning to 
 descend in fearful torrents, when we discovered that 
 we had only si.x rounds a man of powder and ball re- 
 maining. C)ld Mr. Gilbert began to lose heart, and 
 oficrcd twenty pounds to any man who would ride to 
 Haeketstown, and bring on a troop of dragoons lo our 
 assistance, and, if he fell to provide for his family, or 
 any one wlio was dependent on him. There was a 
 general pause. None liked to run so fearful a risk as 
 running the lire of an unseen enemy scattered all over 
 the fields, for half a mile round, and donhtless in great 
 force along the whole line of roud. Whether it was 
 infiituation, or foolhardiness, or want of sleep that 
 made mo volunteer to undcrtiike this duty, I have 
 never been able to tell; all I know is that it was not 
 really devoted courage. 
 
 The horses hail been brought into the kitchen, and 
 were there standing in a profusion of straw. The Ly- 
 anna had been well rubbed down, and from what I 
 knew of her mettle, I felt assured she was again ready 
 for the road. In the excitement of the moment I hur- 
 ried oft", and in a few minutes she was saddled, Ud out 
 into the yard, and I mounted. I took a hurried leave 
 of the old gentleman, the gates were suddenly opened; 
 and out I dashed. The yells and exceraiions that met 
 my car when I issued on the lawn, and the moonlight 
 fell on me through the drizzling rain, sounded like my 
 death knell; and throwingmyself forward on the mare's 
 neck, galloped for dear life. I had nearly readied llio 
 gate, and was congratulating myself upon my escape, 
 when a dozen men started up like ghosts, shut the 
 gates, and closed to reeenc me on their bayonets. 
 Luckily there was still room for presence of mind; and 
 suddenly turning aside I galloped for a few strides 
 across the green sward, and clearing the wall at a 
 bound, fell out upon the road. I rose with the blood 
 streaming from my head, scrambled on Lyannu's 
 back, and away we went once more, the bullets flying 
 pretty thickly, but gradually decreasing, until a stray 
 shot, lired at rtiadom from a Shilmalecr gun, was the 
 only evidence of the close proximity of an enemy. 
 But on coming round a sweep of ihe road which 
 
 brought mo in the rear of the hall, the noise of iho 
 firing came distinctly up the glen, and I could hear the 
 faint cheer of the besieged, which wa^ almost the only 
 thing they could now send back to the crashing volleys 
 which rained upon the house, which entering at the 
 open windows struck the plaster of ilio walls and ceil- 
 ing in crumbling masses. 
 
 I tied a handkerchief round my head, which stopped 
 the bleeding from the cut received in my fall, and gal- 
 loped on. I suddenly heard the sound of a horse's 
 footsteps behind me. I iiut the Lyanna to the top of 
 her speed, but still my pursuer seemed lo gain on mc, 
 and, at last when he seemed to be within pistol-shot, 
 he roared in a hoarse voice, 'Hide aisy, I tell yc; ain't 
 I old Nick Timmins, that was born an bred in Grana 
 Hall; bear yer mare down tlie hill, and take the ditch 
 at the cross roads, or ye'll go right into Darby Kelly's 
 old house, and be spitted afore ye know where yo are. 
 Pull aisy, I say.' 
 
 Thus adjured, I did 'pull aisy,' and was vcryso'on 
 joined liy the speaker — a tliin, tall, wiry man of about 
 fort3'-five, mounted upon an equally gaunt, high- 
 shouldered, rough-going horse, one of those old Irish 
 hunters, which, for couage and endurance, particularly 
 in crossing a rough country, have perhaps never l>eeil 
 serpasscd. Ho told me that ho feared I might go 
 astray, and fall into the hands of some of the roving 
 bands of brigands which had now overspread the coun- 
 try, and had therefore broken cover soon after my de- 
 parture and followed me. 
 
 The moon soon broke out in splendor, and we 
 crossed the ditch at the turning at full speed, and 
 struck out boldly through the meadow below, taking 
 every fence and hedge, as if following the hounds in 
 broad noonday. At the foot of the hill we plnngcd 
 into the river, with a splash and dash which roused 
 the cattle in the adjacent fields from their midnight 
 slumbers, and sent them cantering wildly about in 
 every direction. After two miles we once more 
 reached the road, and in half an hour thundered up 
 the silent streets of Haeketstown; and after answering 
 the sentinel's challenge, were admitted into the pres- 
 ence of old friend, Cajitaiu Hudson. He hastily 
 donned his uniform, the trumpet sounded a reveille, 
 and in fifteen minutes we were once more on the road, 
 going at the top of our speed towards Grana Hall. 
 Wlien we reached it, the Lyanna was well nigh spent; 
 the out-ofticcs were in flames, and a heap of burning 
 straw piled up at the hall-door had already sent the 
 flames up the staircase and through the dining-room. 
 We charged up the lawn with loud huirahs, the rebels 
 slowly retired — the terrible Shilmalcers knocking 
 many a fine fellow out of his saddle as they retreated, 
 and rushing into the house, we soon extinguished the 
 fire, and put .all to rights. The troops remained till 
 morning, and then a company was left en permanence. 
 I went to bed and slept soundly, and in the morning, I 
 received the hearty thanks and congratulations of 
 fatiicr and daughters. Before the end of the summer 
 one of ihem was mv wife. 
 
 AN'ADVENTURE IN BALAKLAVA. 
 
 It was the first week in October, 18.51. The wea- 
 ther was delightfully warm during the day, but 
 eool at night, and there fell occasionally a slight 
 shower, which served to tighten our tent-ropes and 
 stretch the canvas, sometimes, indeed, to an incon- 
 venient degree. But still on the whole, the weather 
 was delightful. Part of the allied army had gone 
 up to the front, as it was then beginning to be 
 called, and had occupied the plateau overlooking 
 the great town, soon to become the theatre of war's 
 most horrible events. Being off duty one day, a 
 shooting excursion was arranged, and I started with 
 a friend to enjoy some recreation, andwith the hope 
 of breaking the monotony of salt-meat dinners. 
 
 The shore of the Black Sea, in the immediate 
 neighborhood of Balaklava, particularly to the cast, 
 is very precipitous, and rises to the height of 800 or 
 1000 feet. On the west, the land is even higher ; 
 but there is a i-pace between Cape Aia and Balak - 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 317 
 
 1 1 va, which seems to have been jiroihiced by a land- 
 slip. The cliff lins apparently slid down into the sea, 
 anil left some thousand acres of land sloping gradu- 
 ally, but ill extreme irregularity, down to the wa- 
 ter's edge. This land is covered with trees and 
 shrubs, intersected with ravuies, and altogether un- 
 romantie. It was over this piece of land we intend- 
 ed to shoot, having heard from the inhabitants of 
 Balaklava that game was to be found there. There 
 was a difficulty, however, in reaching the place, for 
 the heights immediately behind the town were guard- 
 ed by some of our people, and it was permitted to 
 no one to pass a certain line, beyond which, in fact, 
 our shooting ground extended. We therefore char- 
 tered a Maltese boat to get to it by sea. 
 
 All things being ready, about eight o'clock in the 
 morning we rowed out of the harbor, turned to the 
 left, and made for an eligible landing place. AVe 
 had been warned that there was danger in the en- 
 terprise, for small parties of Cossacks and Russian 
 infantry had been seen from the heights in the neigh- 
 borhood ; but we had made up our minds for a 
 day's enterprise, and we felt we could trust to our 
 legs if it really became necessary to run tor it ; be- 
 sides, we could always keep near our boat, and in 
 fact, we imagined, as is usually the case, that the 
 danger in question had been greatly exaggerated. 
 Ilowever, we landed and arranged our plans for the 
 day, taking care to warn the boatmen to keep a 
 good look-out, and to whistle in a peculiar way if 
 they should see any thing like strangers approach- 
 ing. At the entreaty of the boatmen, we had dis- 
 embarked in a small creek, beneath some overhang- 
 ing rocks, which protected us entirely from view by 
 any one approaching over the ground we intended 
 to cover ; but finding, on climbing to the top of 
 those rocks, that a good prospect of the whole 
 could be obtained, we posted one of the Maltese 
 here, and advanced. 
 
 Having been out now for some hours, and no sign 
 of opposition or danger appearing, we abandoned 
 slightly the caution we had at first observed ; we 
 still kept near together, however, and avoided the 
 open country as much as possible. Once already, 
 I thought I had heard the preconcerted signal- 
 whistle ; but on listening attentively, I did not hear 
 it repeated. The blackbirds were numerous ; and 
 it was probably one of them that I heard. Still, I 
 thought it well to be prudent, and paced slowly 
 back over the ground by which I had advanced, so 
 as to lessen the distance between myself and our 
 boat. 
 
 Just at this juncture a hare started from nearly 
 under my feet ; I turned, took aim, fired, and poor 
 puss rolled over ; but before I could secure my 
 prize, I heard the low signal-whistle within a few 
 yards of me. I could not relinquish the hare, but as 
 soon as I had secured her, 1 returned to the spot 
 whence the whistle had proceeded, and there I found 
 my friend. 
 
 ' Do you see those Cossacks up yonder r' said he. 
 
 ' No : where ■' 
 
 ' Why up there on the cUif.' 
 
 On looking more closely, I could distinguish some 
 forms between the bushes. 
 
 ' So there are ; we had better retire." 
 
 ' Yes, I fancy we had ; I have been whistling for 
 you ever so long, and just now I think I heard voices 
 near us.' 
 
 ' Well, then, we had better get to the boat.' 
 
 And so off we went, scrambling through the bush- 
 es, perhaps rather faster than we come. Still wo 
 did not see any immediate danger, as the enemy 
 were a long way off, and, as we imagined, out of 
 shot. On arriving at an open space, at the top of 
 a mound, we determined to reconnoitre : but wc 
 had scarcely emerged from the bushes, when on look- 
 ing np to the cliff, we saw distinctly, three puffs of 
 white smoke, and the instant after, and before we 
 could hear the report of the pieces, several branches 
 
 were cut off the bushes in our immediate neighbor- 
 hood. The peculiar 'ping' of the ball told us plain- 
 ly that our enemy was armed -with a rifle. We were 
 soon down, of course, and hidden by the rising 
 ground. Here we held a council of war, the result 
 of which was that, considering that the people on 
 the cliff h.",d seen us, it was probable they had been 
 watching, and they might have sent some men down 
 near us. M. had heard a rustling in the bushes, 
 and, as he thought, voices too. To make for the 
 boat, without knowing whether we might not be 
 intercepted, was not to bethought of; so we agreed 
 to gain another height, and look around us, and, if 
 we saw any one near, we were to go in a direct line 
 for the beach. To deceive the enemy, we thought 
 it better to approach rather than get away from their 
 position ; so, on hands and knees, we scrambled up 
 a height and looked round. 
 
 ' Here they are, sure enough,' said M., off with 
 you!' 
 
 I looked round, and, at less than two hundred 
 paces, as I could judge, some six or eight Russians 
 were clearly seen. 
 
 To rush down the side of the hillock, and plunge 
 into the thicket in the wake of M., was the affair of 
 a moment. But rapidly as the movement was ef- 
 fected, the Russians had seen us and had time to 
 fire. A whole volley of shots whistled over our 
 heads ; but this time they were not rifle balls. M. 
 made directly for the shore, leaping from crag to 
 crag with the agility of a goat ; nor was I slow in 
 following him. Unfortunately, on nearing the beach, 
 we found ourselves on a precipice, the height of 
 which precluded all possibility of leaping, and it 
 was far too precipitous to slip down. 
 
 Here was a position ! What was to be done ! 
 We stood still to listen, imagining the enemy was 
 close behind; but we could hear nothing. Evident- 
 ly they were coming on cautiously, imagining we 
 we were more numerous than we were Go on to 
 the boat we must ; it was not far ; but to get down 
 to the beach we must come out from the bushes and 
 expose ourselves, on a bare spot, to be once more 
 shot at, unless we retraced our steps ; but then we 
 should risk meeting the enemy face to face. So there 
 was no help for it, and out we went. We were 
 seen, of course, and fired at ; two balls struck the 
 ground within two feet of each other and of us. 
 One false step, and we were lost ! We gained the 
 ravine, which was awfully steep ; but down we 
 plunged. M. in his precipitation, lost his footing, 
 fell, and rolled to the bottom ; his gun went off by 
 the shock, and for amoment I fancied he was killed. 
 I shall never forget the horror of that moment. I 
 rushed to the sea, moistened my handkerchief, and 
 applied it to his temples. He slowly revived, open- 
 ed his eyes, took a dram of spirits and sat up. For- 
 tunately no bones were broken. 
 
 We were now, I felt assured, within a short dis- 
 tance of our boat, but I had not had time to look 
 after her, and did not know whether we had over- 
 shot the mark or fallen short of it. A sharp whis- 
 tle at length apprised me that the boatmen were 
 aware of our danger, which was not less theirs, and 
 my fears were intense lest they should abandon us. 
 I feared to make much noise too, or even to reply 
 to the signal ; but I made for the beach intending 
 to call them up, and get M. carried into the boat. 
 Imagine, then, my consternation on finding that the 
 rock which hid the boat from view projected so far 
 into the sea as to prevent our reaching it without 
 swimming. I returned to M., who by this time had 
 so far recovered as to be standing up, still a little 
 confused, but conscious and pretty ready for action. 
 He speedily saw our position, and all his energy at 
 once returned ; he was a good swimmer, and felt 
 able, he said, to round the point. I knew I could, 
 but I still feared for him. He said the cold water 
 would do him good, and I thought perhaps it might ; 
 but that awful ' perhaps !' Of the alternative I 
 
 dared not think. Time pressed, too ; the boatmen's 
 signals were frequent and louder, and we could not 
 communicate with them, although it was clear that 
 they were quite close. Accordingly, hiding our 
 guns in a crevice of the rock, M. plunged into the 
 sea. I followed him, and a few strokes took us 
 round the rock in sight of the boat. They had al- 
 ready put off, and at first were evidently afraid it 
 was the enemy ; but in answer to my shouts, they 
 looked iip and recognised us, and in a few seconds 
 we were saved. What a gush of thankfulness to 
 God rushed from our hearts at that moment ! — Gra- 
 ham's Magazine. 
 
 An Englishman's Valuation op his Life. — At 
 the time when party spirit and active hostilities were 
 raging in Belgium at the close of the fifteenth cen- 
 tury, certain soldiers of the Spanish army happened 
 to be taken prisoners by the Dutch ; and by way of 
 martial retaliation for a similar act of cruelty prac- 
 tised upon some Dutch prisoners by the Spaniards, 
 all of them were ordered to be hanged. Humanity, 
 however, suggested that it was unnecessary to put 
 the whole party to death ; and of the twenty-four 
 who were taken, eight only were eventually des- 
 tined for the halter. For the purpose of ascertain- 
 ing who were to be the sufferers, twenty-four lota 
 were made, eight of which had the figure of a gib- 
 bet described upon them, and the remaining sixteen 
 were in blank. The whole twenty-four lots being 
 shaken together and cast promiscuously into a hel- 
 met, each prisoner was ordered to draw out one ; 
 those who drew a blank lot were immediately dis- 
 charged, but those who drew the fatal symbol were 
 hanged on the spot. The conduct of those who were 
 compelled to set their lives upon so desperate a cast, 
 varied according to the nerve and temperament of 
 each ; but terror and lamentations prevailed. The 
 most conspicuous object was a Spaniard, who could 
 scarcely be urged to the helmet, and whose tears 
 and exclamations excited both ridicule and com- 
 passion. Among the captives was an Englishman, 
 who seemed whoDy unmoved at his danger, and 
 quietly looked on until his turn arrived ; and when 
 called upon by the Dutch oflicer, walked up to the 
 helmet viith the utmost unconcern, and without fal- 
 tering or changing a feature, drew forth his lot, which 
 was a blank. Thus favored by fortune, and himself 
 free from danger, he told the trembling Spaniard, 
 who still held his hand in the helmet dreading to 
 draw forth his fate, that for ten crowns of gold he 
 was ready to draw his lot for him, and stand to the 
 consequence. The Spaniard joyfully agreed, and 
 the Englishman, having received the money, coolly 
 requested the Dutch oflileer to allow him to fulfil 
 his part of the contract by drawing the Spaniard's 
 lot ; and permission being given, he drew again, and 
 again was fortunate. ' A strange caprice of fortune,' 
 says the historian, ' which could thus favor a man 
 whose cheap estimate of his life made him unwor- 
 thy, not only of this double escape, but even of a 
 single lucky cast !' 
 
 This story is taken from a description of England 
 in the reign of James I., contauied in a satirical 
 Latin work written by a Scotchman named John 
 Barclay, under the assumed denomination of Eu- 
 phormio Lusinius. 
 
 LiMEKicK Gloves. — It used to be the custom in 
 the southwest of Ireland to slaughter many cows 
 while in calf. The skins of these unborn calves 
 were of extraordinary fineness and delicacy, and 
 from such was prepared the leather of which the ccl 
 ebrated Limerick gloves were made. This practice, 
 however, is now almost discontinued, and whatever 
 merit the Limerick gloves may still possess is owing 
 to the skUl of the manufacturer, and not to the su- 
 periority of his raw material. 
 
318 
 
 IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 CrAi) MiLLE Faii.te.— It is perhaps not generally 
 known from whence the famous expression of Irish 
 hospitality, Cead mille Failte, was token. It occurs 
 in in the eonchuling stanza of ' Kilccn a lloon,' and 
 is thus translated by Furlong: — 
 
 'A huiidrfd tliouiiaiicl welcomes 
 
 li^iloen H Uooii * 
 A huudred thousand welcomes 
 
 Kllecu tt Itoou! 
 O, welcome evermore. 
 With welcomes yet In store, 
 Till love aud lilc arc o'er, 
 
 Kilecu u Koon! 
 
 There are two songs entitled, Kileen a lloon, ' El- 
 len, the secret treasure of my heart.' The old ver- 
 sion, from which the above stanza is taken, bears in- 
 ternal evidence of antiquity. The lirst line of the 
 second stanza of it, 'I would spend a cow to enter- 
 tain thee,' proves that it was composed before coined 
 money was in general use. The following is esteem- 
 ed the most probable account of the circumstance 
 ■which gave rise to it : — 
 
 • Carol O'Daly, commonly called Mac Caomhinsi 
 Cncamha, brother to Donogh More O'Daly, a man 
 of much consequence in Connaught, was one of the 
 most accomplished gentlemen of his time, and par- 
 ticularly excelled in music. He paid his addresses 
 to Ellen, the daughter of a chieftain named Kavan- 
 ngh, a lovely and amiable young lady, who returned 
 his affection, but her friends disapproved of the con- 
 nexion. O'Daly was obliged to leave the country 
 for some time, and they availed themselves of the 
 opportunity which his absence afforded, of impress- 
 ii\g on the mind of Ellen a belief of his falsehood, 
 and of his having gone to be married to another ; 
 after some time they prevailed on her to marry a 
 rival of O'Daly. The day was fLxed for the nuptials, 
 but O'Daly returned the evening before. Under the 
 first impressions of his feelings, he sought a wild 
 and sequestered spot on the sea shore, and, inspired 
 bv love, composed the song of Eileen a Roon, which 
 remains to this time an exquisite memorial of his 
 skill and sensibility. Disguised as a harper, he 
 gained access among the crowd that thronged to the 
 wedding. It happened that he was called upon by 
 Ellen herself to play. It was then, touching his 
 harp with all the pathetic sensibility which the in- 
 teresting occasion Inspired, he infused his ojin feel- 
 ings into the song he had composed, and breathed 
 into his ' softened strain,' the -wery soul of pensive 
 melody. 
 
 In the first stanza he intimates, according to the 
 Irish idiom, that, ' he would walk with her,' that 
 is, that he would be her partner, or only love for 
 life. In the second, that ho would entertain her 
 and afford her every delight. After this he tender- 
 Iv asks, will she depart with him, or, in the impress- 
 ive manner of the original, ' \Vilt thou stay, or wilt 
 thou come with me, Eileen a Roon.' She soon felt 
 the force of his tender appeal, and replied in the af- 
 firmative, — on which, in an ecstacy of delight, he 
 bursts forth into his ' hundred thousand welcomes.' 
 To reward his fidelity and affection, his fair one con- 
 trived to ' go with him ' that very night.' 
 
 llandel is said to have declared that he would 
 rather be the author of Eileen a Roon, than of the 
 most exquisite of his musical compositions. Yet it 
 has been painted upon the public under the name 
 of Robin Adair, as a Scotch melody ! Rums as- 
 serted that it and Molin Astore, which he termed 
 Gramachree, were both Scotch ! He was in error ; 
 but the circumstance is a proof of their merit, and 
 his taste. Robin Adair himself was an Irishm.in ; 
 he was ancestor of Viscount Molesworth ; lived at 
 Hollypark, in the county of AVicklow, and early 
 in the last century was a member of the Irish par- 
 liament. 
 
 We should educate the whole man — the body, the 
 head, and the heart ; the body to act, the head to 
 think, and the heart to feel. 
 
 KoYAi.TV Rkiiuked. — ^V'hen Moore the poet's cele- 
 brity was in its first glow, he received a flattering 
 invitation to dine with the I'riiuu of Wales. His 
 Royal host was delighted wilh him, and after dinner 
 fell into familiar chat, directing the greater portion 
 of his remarks to the 'poet of all circles,' and ex- 
 hibiting the most gracious interest in all that con- 
 cerned him. Amongst other points, the Prince, as- 
 suming that his illustrious visitor must be of high 
 descent, questioned him respecting the particular 
 family to which he belonged, naming in turn several 
 ancient houses in Ireland, begging to know whether 
 he was not allied to one of them ? To each of these 
 inquiries the poet, at first, simply replied in the 
 negative. The I'rince, whose strong prepossession 
 that ' gentle blood ' flowed in his accomplished vis- 
 itor's veins, made him, in effect, less polite than he 
 was wont to be, reiterated his question, turning 
 from one point to another, in the hope of hitting his 
 mark, thus creating unintentionally the curiosity of 
 all present towards the questioned party. All at 
 once it occurred to his Royal Highness that his guest 
 must, as he told him, be the son of a certain Mr. 
 Moore, (a man of large fortune and distinguished 
 
 birth) of . Thus pressed, Anacreon Moore put 
 
 an end to his Royal Highness's persevering inquiry, 
 and, with admirable and magnanimous simplicity, 
 replied to the last suggestion : — 
 
 ' No, sir, I have not the honor of being descended 
 from any of the distinguished families yon have 
 named : I am, sir, the son of one of the honestest 
 tradesmen in all Dublin.' 
 
 Pelicans. — Pelicans are residents upon the banks 
 of rivers and lakes, and upon the sea coast. They 
 habitually feed on fish, although they will sometimes 
 devour reptiles and small quadrupeds. They are 
 capable of rapid flight, and have on extraordinary 
 power of ascending on high. This power is called 
 into action by their mode of fishing. AVhen they 
 perceive, from their elevated position, a fish, or fishes, 
 on the surface of the water, they dart down with 
 inconceivable rapidity, and flapping their large wings 
 so as to stun their prey, fill their pouches, and then 
 retire to the shore to satisfy their voracious appetites. 
 The fish thus carried away in the pouch undergo a 
 sort of maceration before they are received into the 
 stomach, and this grinding process renders the food 
 fit for the young birds. No doubt the sanguinary 
 traces which this operation leaves upon the plumage 
 of the mother, have given birth to the fable that she 
 feeds her nestlings with her blood. 
 
 cruel practice, but it hos been impossible to pre- 
 vent it entirely as yet, even on the Government 
 reservations. 
 
 Oddities of Great Men. — The greatest men are 
 often affected by the most trivial circumstances, 
 which have no apparent connection with the effects 
 they produce. Dr. Johnson used always, in coming 
 up Bolt court, put one foot upon each stone of the 
 pavement; if he failed, hefelt certain the day would 
 be unlucky. Ruffon, the celebrated naturalist, 
 never wrote but in full dress. Dr. South, of Ox- 
 ford, studied in full canonicals. An eminent living 
 writer can never compose without his slippers on. 
 A celebrated preacher of the last century could 
 never make a sermon with his braces off. Rcisig, 
 the German critic, wrote his Commentaries on 
 Sophocles with a pot of porter by his side. Schlegel 
 lectured in latin, with his snulf bo.x constantly in 
 his hand. 
 
 Strange and Revolting Custom. — A recent com- 
 munication to the Indian office, from the Superin- 
 tendent of Indian Aff"airs at .San Francisco, reports 
 a strange but shocking custom that prevails among 
 almost all the Indians of California. This is that 
 of burying alive. AVhen a widow dies and leaves 
 young children, rather than trouble themselves with 
 their support, the tribe to which she belonged will 
 burj- the oq)hans alive. The Superintendent states, 
 that he will use all his efforts to put an end to this 
 
 MISCELLANEA. 
 
 • Come out here and I'll lick the whole of you,' 
 as the boy said when he saw a jar of sugar sticks 
 in a shop window. 
 
 Patrick O'Flahcrty said that his wife was very 
 ungrateful, for ' whin I married her she hadn't a 
 rag to her back, and now she's covered with 'em.' 
 
 ' You musicians ought to be happy fellows,' said 
 H., the other day, to a bandmaster. ' Why r' said 
 the leader. ' Recause you need never want for 
 money ; for when your funds run short, you have 
 only to put your instrument to your lips and — 
 raise the wind.' 
 
 The best and most conclusive reason for an effect 
 that we ever remember to have heard was given by 
 a Dutchman, in reply to a friend, who remarked ; 
 ' Why, Hans, you have the most feminine cast of 
 countenance I have ever seen.' ' Oh, yaw,' was the 
 reply ; ' I know the reason for dat — my mother was 
 a woman.' 
 
 ' My wife tells the truth three times a day,' re- 
 marked a jocose old fellow, at the same time casting 
 a very mischievous glance at her. ' Before rising iu 
 the morning, she says, ' Oh, dear, I must get up, 
 but I don't want to.' After breakfast, she adds, 
 ' W'ell, I suppose I must go to work, but I don't 
 want to ;' and she goes to bed saying, ' There, I 
 have been fussing all day, and haven't done any- 
 thing.' 
 
 alphabet or rRovEnns. 
 A grain of prudence is worth a pound of craft. 
 Boasters are cousins to liars. 
 Confession of a fault makes half amends. 
 Denying a fault doubles it. 
 Envy shooteth at others and woundeth herself. 
 Foolish fear doubles danger. 
 God reacheth us good things by our own hands. 
 He has hard work who has nothing to do. 
 It costs more to revenge faults than to bear them. 
 Knavery is the worst trade. 
 Learning makes a man fit company for himself. 
 Modesty is a guard to virtue. 
 Not to hear conscience is the way to silence it. 
 One hour to-day is worth two to-morrow. 
 Proud looks make foul work in fair faces. 
 Quiet conscience gives quiet sleep. 
 Richest is he that wants least. 
 Small faults indulged are little tliieves that let in 
 greater. 
 The boughs that bear the most hang the lowest. 
 Upright walking is sure walking. 
 Virtue and happiness are mother and daughter. 
 Wise men make more opportunities than they find. 
 Y'ou will never lose by doing a good turn. 
 Zeal without knowledge is tire without light. 
 
 ADVERTISEMENTS, 
 
 WILLIAM K. O'BRIEN, 
 
 77 TUIRD ATKNUB, NEW TOKK. 
 
 — Manafacturer of— 
 LOOKING-GLASS, PORTRAIT 
 
 AND 
 
 PICTURE FRAMES, 
 
 Wholesale and Rrlail. 
 
 Oil raintings niid Enprravlngs framed and vamialied. 
 
 Orders proraplly executed, packed and fliippcd to any port 
 
 my22 of the country. 3m* 
 
 AVILLIAM PEARCE, 
 
 PL UMBER, 
 
 12 AND 23 citv excuakqk, 
 
 DEVONSHIRE STKEET, 
 
 BOSTON. 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 319 
 
 ADVERTISEMENTS. 
 
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 CUSTOM TAILORING. 
 
 SPRING OVERCOATS, 
 
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 Such as men of tnste nnd good judgment will wear, can at 
 all times he lound at our store. 
 Our aim is to produce lor our customers the best Ready 
 Made Garments at the lowest i-ossiblk piuces eok 
 CASH. 
 
 Readers of this Journal are earnestly solicited to exam- 
 ine our goods before purchasing. 
 
 J W. SMITH & CO., 
 
 Dock Square, cornei: Elm Street. 
 mjll tf 
 
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 » itURSliAM liROTUERS,) has taken tlie Old Stand, 58 
 & OU Cornhill, occupied by the late lirm, and holds himself 
 in readiness to supply all orders with which he may be fa- 
 vored. 
 
 Ye Antique Cooke Store still flourisheth, 
 
 Asytte dide in days of yore; 
 
 And ye Burnham still catereth 
 
 Eor ye lovers of ancient lore. 
 
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 SOUTH END CATHOLIC BOOK STORE, 
 
 And Depot for the Sale of the 
 
 METROPOLITAN AND YOUTHS' ULAGAZINES. 
 
 WILLIAM KEATING, Aoekt, 
 
 8 1-2 Harrison Avenue, or at his New Periodical Store, 176 
 
 Harrison Avenue, Boston, Mass., 
 
 Where a great variety of the most popular Books and 
 
 Tapers cam be had at the very lowest prices, 
 
 WILL supply Clubs. Agents, Canvassers, &c.. on the 
 same terms as the Publishers. The tollowing are 
 the terms— 3 copies will be sent by mail, to one address, ior 
 cue year iSo ; 6 copies for SIO ; 13 copies for ©20 ; 20 copies 
 for S30. 
 
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 Youth's Magazine and one copy of the Metropolitan will 
 be mailed regularly for one year. 
 
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 be had of the Agent. Also, all new books furnished as 
 soon as published. ap24 3mos 
 
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 change on England, Ireland and Scotland. 
 
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 PHOTOGRAPH AND DAGUERREOTYPE 
 
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 289 WAsniNGTON Street, 
 
 (Up one night of stairs) 
 
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 Photographs taken of every size and finished in Oil, Wa- 
 ter, India Ink and Pastel Colors. Daguerreotypes taken ' 
 
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 NO, 2 MORTON PLACE, 
 
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 INVI^NTORS and Manufacturers of tlie Improved Day- 
 light Kclk-ctor, for dimisinff the healthy light of dny 
 into all dark place.*. No. 2^ atate street, Bostou, and No. 
 51 Park etm-t. Bnllimore. 
 N. 11. Call and see it in operation. (imfl3 
 
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 • AT LA\V, 16 Alasuuchusutts Block, Court Square, 
 Botston. 
 
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 examination oftitk-s of lit-al l->tate. tebia 
 
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 .Miscellany. 'I'lic TiaUe Kumiliud with Uookc, I'e- 
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 I'ricus of udmission—l'rivute Boxes -Ifii; I'arquette, Bal- 
 
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 W. U. Smith, Stage Manager. 
 
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 Exhibition Hall opens at 6 1-2; commencea at 7 1-2. 
 Admission 25 cents; Keserved Seats 50 centy. 
 
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 Medicines constantly on hand. A well selected stock of 
 
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 Vaterwith choice Syrups. A large assortment of genuine 
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 THE SOUTHEKN CITIZEN, 
 
 IS published weekly at Knoxville, Tennessee, by JOHN 
 MITCHELL & WM. G. SWAN, at SF2 per annum, or 
 ^1 for SIX months, payable invariably in advance. 
 
 Mr. Mitchell having corameneed in the 28th number of 
 the paper, a series of Letters addressed to the Hon. Alex- 
 ander H. Stephens of Georgia, which, when completed will 
 furnish an entire history ol 
 
 THE IRISH TROUBLES OF 1848, 
 
 With their Causes and Consequences, 
 
 The Southern Citizen will be the more interesting to both 
 American and Irish readers. Besides these contributions 
 from Mr. Mitchel, the Southern Citizen will continue to 
 liave its usual quantity of original matter upon political 
 and literary subjects prepared by him. The circulation, 
 though large and constantly increasing, the propi-ietors 
 have thought will be much more extended by an announce- 
 ment in this form. 
 
 Communications with remittances may be addresedto 
 Mitchel fc Swan, Kuoxville, Tennessee, or to any of the 
 following Agents: 
 
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 nor, Savannah, Ga; J C Morgan, New Orleans, La; Jas A 
 Gentrv, Qichmond, Va; Alexander Adamson, Washington 
 city; Tallinage& Tunner, Cincinnati, O; PM Haverty, 110 
 Fulton street, N Y; S H Goetzel, 33 Dauphin street. Mobile 
 Ala; Benj B Davis, Masonic Building, Montgomery, Ala; 
 Rosa & Toucey, 121 Nassau street, N \ , supply dealers only 
 upon reasonable terms; James McGinn, 121 Kearney street 
 San Francisco. 
 
 *«* Clubs of ten will be supplied with the paper for S15. 
 
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 • public, that he keeps constantiv on hand COFFINS 
 of all .-jizes and kinds, at his Coflii; Mannluctory, No. 347 
 federal, befwei-n Beach and Kneeland Streets Hostoii 
 which he will sell as reasonable as can be bouffhtat auv oth- 
 er place in the city. ' 
 N. It.— Orders punctually attended to, day or niirht 
 Residence, No. 28 South street, Boston. 
 [CpG rave-Clothes furnished to order at short notice. 
 
 SUJiSCUIBE! SUUSCIUHE! SUliSCKIBEl 
 THE IRISH MISCELLANY 
 
 ITCTUKE GALLERY. 
 Inducements to New SunscRiDKRB. 
 
 On Saturday, the 3d of July next, we shall present to 
 each subPcrilKTtolhi- \y\>\\ rirtoiini Ari»<cellany, a .-plendid 
 LitliogriqilLie Kn^^rin ill;.,^ n-;iH-M-iitiii^ the gloriouH i-cene, 
 whicli occiiijcil ^iM.iily Inlnic ilic capture of Limerick, 
 when (H'lu-nil .Snr^lirl,!, wh.n-urijiimiidcd the Iriwh hoisc, 
 having k^iuiirdlliul aim-.- Mi|.plj ..I li.-avy M-i^o guns was 
 on Ih.' \Mivt.) thti fiiinp of ll.L- I'liiicc uf (Uiin;;r, rrholved 
 tociiplun' tlKiii. (■^^^^il.g u\rr tlirc.Hintiv l.y a dillicult 
 and circiiitijiis rout, so as to inlL-icL-pt tlio ei.iivo}, lie came 
 up in front of it at Ivilleiiuniona, atlacUcd Willianrs 
 troops, deiealed them and compelled them to retreat beloie 
 the Irish horse, leaving their artillery in the liands of Sare- 
 lield. 
 
 Having to rejoin the garrison at Limerick, Sarsfield knew 
 it would be impossibte to carry with him the heavy Eng- 
 lish guns through the niountiiin pa.'^ses, and lietemiiued to 
 destroy them. He ordered them to be charged to their ut- 
 most capacity, and imbedded deeply in the earth, with the 
 whole of the baggage train, which i'iI.m) k-11 into bis hands. 
 A train being laid, the tpark was ajiiflied and in a few sec- 
 onds the seigc artillery of William was t^hatlered into inim- 
 merable fragments This gallant feat astonished the Eng- 
 lish troops, gave new courage to the Irish, and added to 
 the great popularity of the gallant Sarstield. The explo- 
 sion shook tlie ^arth for miles around, and was heard at an 
 
 It is at the moment of the explosion of the Englisli ar- 
 tillery which our artist has siezed upon for the subject of 
 his pencil. 
 
 This memorable event will be faithfully aud accurately 
 portrayed. Jt has not hitherto, given inspiration, as far as 
 we can learn to any of our Irish artists, and shall now have 
 amble justice done it. It will make a beautiful picture. 
 We shall present it to our readers on a sheet of line draw- 
 ing paper, separate from the Miscellany, suitable for 
 framing. 
 
 It will at once be seen that we cannot do this without a 
 greatoutlay of capital. We expectto'be reimbursed by a 
 very large addition to our subscription list, as no pert^oii 
 will be entitled to it who has not paid on or betbre the 3d 
 of July next one years' subscription in advance, dating 
 from our first number. 
 
 Non subscribers will be supplied at Sl,50 for each plate. 
 
 We are resolved that our subscribers shall possess a 'pic- 
 ture gallery' worthy of the events we propose to commem- 
 orate. This will be the first of a series of national pic- 
 tures we propose presenting gratis to our regular subscrib- 
 ers the second picture of the series will be ready earlv in 
 October, the subject of which is not yet decided on. "We 
 should leel obliged to any of our friends who possess old 
 pictnres of remarkable events in Irish history, or portraits 
 of distinguished Irishmen, to forward them to us. They 
 shall be taken good care of, and returned. 
 
 Let our friends gee to their subscriptions in season. Our 
 Picture Gallery will be fit to adorn the walls of any gentle- 
 man's house in the country, and will, we hope, eventually 
 supersede the wretched daubs which are often met with. 
 
 Our arrangements for the first picture are almost com- 
 pleted. It will be absolutely necessary that we should 
 know immediately the number of plates we shall want. 
 i-,et our subscribers therefore, send in their subscriptions 
 without delay, and be careful to give us their correct ad- 
 dress. We shall not strike off any more copies than are 
 ordered before the above date. 
 
 Will our friends of tlie press please notice this new fea- 
 ture iu our publication, and we will take care that their 
 sanctums are adorned with choice copies of this national 
 picture. 
 
 THE IRISH VINDICATOR, 
 
 A WEEKLY NEWSPAPER, 
 
 The Best and Cheapest Published in America. 
 
 THIS splendid Paper, which is little over nine months 
 iu existence, has met with the 
 MOST WONDERFUL SUCCESS, 
 and has been pronounced by the Press and the Public to be 
 superior to any other Irish Weekly in the United States. 
 
 It contains each week, the very 
 Latest News from every County in Ireland ; 
 Original and entertaining 
 STORIES AND ANECDOTES, 
 and a variety of Miscellaneous Reading matter, of a charac- 
 ter which cannot fail to elevate and chasten the intel- 
 lectual appetite. The Irish Vindicator is devoted 
 
 TO THE INTERESTS OF IIUSHJIEN IN AMERICA, 
 
 and is so cheap as to be within the reach of the poorest. 
 
 ONLY THREE CENTS A COPY. 
 
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 To any part of Canada or the British Provinces, one year, 
 
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 Published every week, at the Oflico, No 10 Spruce street, 
 New York, by the Proprietors. 
 
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 New York, march 27 
 
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 Summer St-, Lowell, Masti. ap2tf 
 

 
 m YfTf ^ W W Wf 9 
 
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 1. (.)h ! Buy of Dublin ! my heart you're troublin', Your beauty haunts me like a fever - dream, Like fro - zen fountains, that, the sun sets 
 
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 l>ub - brm<;, Jly lioitft's IdooJ warms when I but hear your name ; And nev-er till 
 
 th'a life - pulse ceas - es, My ear - liest, 
 
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 latest thought you'll cease to bo : Oh ! there's no one hero knows how fair that place is, And no one cares how dear it is to mo 
 
 
 
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 Sweet Wicklow mountains ! the sunlight sleeping 
 
 On your green bajiks, is a picture rare. 
 You crowd around nic, like young girls peeping. 
 
 And jmzzling me to say wliicli is most fair. 
 As though you'd sec your own sweet faces, 
 
 Reflected in that smooth and silver sea. 
 Oh ! My blessing on those lovely places, 
 
 Though no one cares how dear they arc to me. 
 
 3. 
 
 How often when at work I'm sitting. 
 
 And musing sadly on tlie days of yore, 
 I think I see my Katie knitting, 
 
 And the cliilder playing around the cabin door ; 
 I think I see the neighbours" fiiccs 
 
 All gathered round their long lost friend to see. 
 Oh ! Though no one here knows how fair that place is, 
 
 Heav'n knows how dear my poor home was to mo. 
 
VOLUME I— NUMBER 21. ] 
 
 BOSTON, SATURDAY, JULY 3, 1858. 
 
 [ PRICE FOUR CENTS. 
 
 KILDARE. 
 
 Kildare, altliougli the capital of a county in Ire- 
 land, and giving name to a bishoprick, is a very in- 
 considerable place, not containing more, according 
 to the last census, than 1753 inhabitants. It is 
 twenty-eight miles from Dublin, and is a borough 
 governed by a sovereign, a recorder, and two por- 
 treeves. It is pleasantly situated upon a rising 
 ground ; but the buildings are of an interior descrip- 
 tion, forming one tolerable street and a few lanes 
 leading therefrom. The place has no trade, and is 
 chiefly supported by the hosre-races, which are held 
 on an extensive common in the neighborhood, called 
 
 the Curragh of Kildare. This is a large plain, for- 
 merly surrounded by a ■wood of oaks, which gave 
 the name of Chilledair to the town, and was ancient- 
 ly the seat of Druidical worship until the time of 
 St. Bridid, whom we shall presently have occasion 
 to mention. It is esteemed as fine a common as any 
 in Europe, containing about 5000 English acres, and 
 forming a most beautiful lawn, on which large num- 
 bers of sheep are pastured. This is the Newmarket 
 of Ireland, and in some respects is considered to 
 exceed our own. The meetings are held in April, 
 June, and September, when king's plates are run 
 for by Irish-bred horses. These plates were origin- 
 
 ally given at the suggestion of Sir AVilliam Tempi?, 
 who, among other schemes for the benefit of Ireland, 
 recommended this, with a view to the improvement 
 of the Irish breed of horses. The place was, how- 
 ever, remarkable for its horse-races long b -fore king's 
 plates were established. 
 
 Although of little importance at present, Kildare 
 contains some interesting evidences of its former 
 consideration. The principal of these is the cathe- 
 dral, the greater part of which is in ruins, the choir 
 only being now in a fit condition for religious ser- 
 vices. The ecclesiastical establishments for which, 
 more than for any thing else, Kildare was formerly 
 
 IIUINS («•■ KII.DARH CATJIF.iniAL 
 
322 
 
 IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 distinguished, owe their origin to St. Brigid. This I the superstructure being of coiiiraon blue stone. It 
 
 hidy, Mho wns the illegitimate daughter of nn Irish 
 chieftnm, was born in the 458. In her fourteenth 
 yiar she received the veil from the hands of St. I'ut- 
 riek, or one of his immediate disciples. She after- 
 wards >-isitcd the abbey of Glastonbury in Somer- 
 setshire, and on her return (or at any rate, before 
 38 1) founded a nunnery at Kildarc. About the 
 came time an abbey was also founded under the 
 same roof for monks, but separated from the nun- 
 nery by walls. The monks and nuns had but one 
 chnreh in common, which they entered by different 
 doors. St. Urigid presided as well over the monks 
 as the nuns, and, ' strange to tell !' exclaims Arch- 
 dall, the abbot of the house remained .subject to the 
 abbess for many years after the death of the cele- 
 brated foundress, which took place on the 1st of 
 February, 52.1. She was interred at ICildnre ; but 
 her remains were afterwards removed to the cathe- 
 dral church of Down, and laid beside those of St. 
 Patrick and St. Columb. This St. Urigid or Bridget 
 became quite the Viri,'in Saint of Ireland, and ne.\t 
 to the names of the Virgin Mary and St. Patrick, 
 her name obtained more reverence than any other in 
 the calendar. 
 
 The amount of the influence which this extraor- 
 dinary female acquired may be estimated from the 
 fact that she is represented as the foundress not on 
 ly of the monastery but of the see of Kildare. It is 
 stated that she appointed as bishop a person various- 
 ly called St. Conlu?th, Conlaid, and Conlian, who, 
 with her assistance, erected the cathedral. Some 
 writers, however, contend that there were bishops 
 of Kildare before this personage ; but Sir James 
 Ware prefers the authority of the persons who have 
 written the life of St. Brigid. One of these gives 
 this account of the transaction: — 'Conlian, an holy 
 bishop and prophet of the Lord, who had a cell in 
 the south part of the plains of Liffi, came in his 
 chariot to St. Brigid, and abode with her ; and the 
 holy Brigid elected him bishop in her city of Kil- 
 dare.' In the ne.xt century, Aod Oubh, or Black 
 Hugh, the abbot of Leinster, withdrew to the mon- 
 astery of Kildare, of which he in time, became abbot, 
 and afterwards bishop of the see. The first Eng- 
 lishman who occupied the see was Ralph of Bris- 
 tol, who died in 1232. This prelate went to great 
 expense in repairing and ornamenting the cathedral. 
 In the reign of Henry VII. it had again fallen into 
 decay, and was repaired by the bishop Edward Lane, 
 who died in 1.522. It was a fine old Gothic build- 
 ing, now mostly in ruins. The walls, however, are 
 still standing, together with the south side of the 
 steeple and the walls of the nave, which has on the 
 south side six Gothic arches and six buttresses. The 
 north side of the steeple is level with the ground, 
 and is said to have been beaten down, with other 
 parts of the building, by a battery planted against 
 it during the disturbances in 1641. The choir, in 
 which the church services are still performed, af- 
 fords little matter for remark. It is kept in decent 
 repair, and a handsome Venetian window supplies 
 the place of an old Gothic one, w hich was much ad- 
 mired. The south wing, which was formerly a 
 chapel, is a mass of ruins ; but two statues in alto- 
 relievo may still be noticed. One of them repre- 
 sents an ancient knight of the Fitzgerald family, 
 clad in very curiously cut armor, and surrounded 
 by heraldic escutcheons ; and the other a bishop 
 with his pastoral staff and mitre, supposed to be the 
 Bishop Lone already mentioned. 
 
 At the distance of about thirty yards from the 
 ■west door of the cathedral stands a very fine speci- 
 men of those 'Round Towers,' which so frequently 
 occur in Ireland, and have occasioned a vast quan- 
 tity of unprofitable speculation. The round tower 
 at Kildare, which is included in our wood-cut, is 
 one of the best finished and most skilfully built 
 structures of the kind in Ireland. It is built of 
 
 is about I'M feet in height, and batlleniented at the 
 top, and has, about fourteen feet from the founda- 
 tion, a large arched aperture, apparently intended 
 for a door. At no great distance from this tower 
 is seen the pedestal of an ancient stone cross, the up- 
 per part of which still lies near it on the ground. 
 
 In the neighborhood of the tower are the remains 
 of a building called the Fire House, in which the 
 ' inextinguishable fire ' was formerly kept by the 
 nuns of St. Brigid, and of which UiraldusCambren- 
 sis gives the following account : — 
 
 ' At Kildare, which the glorious Brigid rendered 
 illustrious, are many miracles worthy of notice; 
 and the first that occurs is ' Brigid's Fire,' called 
 the ' inextinguishable fire ;' not that it cannot be put 
 out, but because the nuns and religious women are 
 so careful and diligent in supplying and recruiting 
 it with fuel, that from the time of that virgin it hath 
 remained always unextinguished through so many 
 successive years.' It had been well if the matter 
 had stopped here ; but Giraldus goes on to say : — 
 ' Though so vast a quantity of wood hath in such a 
 length of time been consumed in it, yet the ashes 
 have never increased.' It seems also that this tire 
 was never blown by human breath, lest it should be 
 contaminated ; but fans or bellows were employed 
 for the purpose. This fire was put out by the Arch- 
 bishop of Dublin in the year 1230. 'What were his 
 reasons does not exactly appear ; but Ware says : 
 '.Perhaps the archbishop put out the fire because 
 the custom not being used in other places, it might 
 seem to have taken its original from an imitation of 
 the Vestal Virgins, whom Numa Pompilius first in- 
 stituted, and dedicated to the holy mysteries of 
 Vesta for the preservation of a perpetual fire. He 
 instituted a fire (says Lucius Florus, speaking of 
 Numa) to be preserved by the Vestal Virgins, that 
 a flame, in imatation of the celestial stars, might for 
 ever watch as a guardian over the empire.' What- 
 ever was the object of this fire, it seems to have been 
 afterwards kindled and kept burning until the sup- 
 pression of monasteries in the reign of Henry VHI. 
 
 MURTOUCH OCE, THE OUTLAW. 
 
 Murtough Oge O' Sullivan was the descendant of 
 a princely line of ancestors, whose wide possessions 
 extended .ilong the rock-bound shores of Bearhaven. 
 He had just arrived at manhood — was above si.x 
 feet high — aud his frame combined gigantic strength 
 with the most faultless symmetry. His immediate 
 relations were dead, aud the heritage of his fathers 
 in the occupations of strangers. The world was all 
 before him ; — but among the various pursuits that 
 engrossed the attention of the multitude, he saw no 
 occupation within his reach. The sword aff'orded 
 the only method of cutting through the gordian knot 
 that bound his lot to poverty. He embarked for 
 France — and after ten years of active service he saw 
 himself raised to proud eminence in the military pro- 
 fession, and possessed of a competence, the reward 
 of his merit, sufficient to render his future life free 
 and independent. 
 
 When O'SuUivan left his native country, his near- 
 est relations there were a widowed aunt, and her or- 
 phan son. At the period to which we have alluded 
 above, the son was grown to man's estate, and, like 
 most of his countrymen, was brave and unthinking. 
 The practice of smuggling was then carried on to a 
 great extent along the south and western coast of 
 Ireland; many of the respectable Irish families em- 
 barked in the illegal traffic, and to defraud the rev- 
 enue, in the estimation of the Irish of that period, 
 was considered a matter of boast, end certainly by 
 no means, of disgrace. Unfortunately for young 
 Denis he became attached to a gang of smugglers. 
 They wanted such a leader — his great popularity in 
 
 that wild district could secure them a safe asylum 
 white granite to above twelve feet above the ground, | for their persons and merchandize ; and his resolu- 
 
 tion in danger, and headlong bravery in action, were 
 most necessary to men who had to evade the pur- 
 suit, and frequently brave the attack, of the revenue 
 cutter on the deep, and of the excisemen, with their 
 train of red-coats and busy informers on land. He 
 realized their fondest hopes. The brig he command- 
 ed was the swiftest sailer— and his perfect knowl- 
 edge of the coast always enabled him to bailie the 
 vigilance of the king's vessels, as he sought to in- 
 troduce the wine and brandy of France to the pal- 
 ates of his countrymen. Indeed, it often hajipencd 
 that when the cutter gave chase and the smuggler 
 seemed to shorten sail, as if tired in the pursuit, or 
 panic-struck by the occasional shot which cut along 
 her rigging, or boomed harmless over the waves from 
 the deck of the pursuing cutter, that she unaccount- 
 ably disappeared at the instant. The armed boat 
 sent to explore the bay or creek where the smuggler 
 might have sought temporary shelter, returned un- 
 successful from the search. The flight and disap- 
 pearance of the brig afforded strange matter of cog- 
 itation to the cutter's crew, according as their minds 
 were imbued with education or wild superstition ; 
 those declared the matter to be wholly unexplicable ; 
 and these averred that this was no other than a 
 phantom ship sent by the fairies of the ocean tu lure 
 them to their doom on the fearfulrocksof that iron- 
 bound coast. A tall cliff' that projected its slanting 
 side into the sea, hid from observation the narrow 
 mouth of a cove within which the brig suddenly 
 glided, and was completely land-locked. The sea- 
 lane (if I may use the word) that led into this cove 
 ran obliquely between cliffs so close and precipitous, 
 that a few brave men, couched on each side, could, 
 without risk to themselves, destroy a dozen armed 
 boats attempting to force an entrance, by only hurl- 
 ing down the loose masses of rock which surmount- 
 ed the granite walls that overhung, with fearful 
 threatning, the dark waves below. It required the 
 utmost stretch of pilotage to euide the brig along 
 this narrow way, for the rigging of the vessel almost 
 touched the opposite rocks, but within the cove af- 
 forded complete shelter. Here was also a cave, the 
 joint effort of nature and art, in which the contra- 
 band cargo waa stowed in safety till the proper time 
 arrived for transporting it to the different places of 
 destination. The mouth of this cave was overflow- 
 ed at high water, and led by a gentle ascent to a 
 vault strewn with the finest sand ; and the interior 
 received light and air from a fissure in the rock above 
 to which art had given a funnel-like shape. This 
 cove was the brig's place of concealment, and this 
 cave the safe retreat of the smugglers, and the de- 
 pository of their store, where they could set all the 
 harpies of the revenue at complete defiance. 
 
 At length Denis O'SuUivan reached the goal of 
 his desperate career. One night, in the Month of 
 October, he prepared to escort a quantity of French 
 brandy to a neighboring town. About ten pack 
 horses conveyed the illicit liquor, and his party con- 
 sisted of twelve stout fellows, who often before 
 achieved a service of danger. But a person in the 
 confidence of one of the party, who got intimation 
 of this midnight excursion, was induced by the hope 
 of reward, to betray the route of the smugglers to 
 one Puxley, a revenue officer. The road led through 
 a rocky district, and upon arrivmg at a particular 
 pass in which the road winded round the edge of 
 a precipitous descent, where the rough rocks rose 
 above, and a mountain torrent foamed and fretted 
 its winding course below, the moon suddenly shewed 
 her round orb emerging from the sea, and shedding 
 her first faint light on the smugglers, tinged the 
 purple cliff's that rose above them with a silver shade. 
 Then was a human form observed to rise above the 
 tall rocks that overhung the narrow way — he bore 
 in his hand a long gun — his height seemed above 
 the usual stature of men, as he drew uphisfignre to 
 its full length on the high cliff', and bid the smug- 
 glers stand and surrender in the king's name. 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 323 
 
 ' And who art thou," said O'SulUvan, ' that pre- 
 sumest to utter that audacious command ?' 
 
 ' I am,' said he, ' a revenue officer ; I wish to ap- 
 prise vou of your present situation, and thereby to 
 prevent the effusion of blood. The road is lined 
 with soldiers — your retreat is cut off — and you rush 
 forward to certain destruction. I again request that 
 you will subn-.it to the king's mercy.' 
 
 After a moment's consultation with his followers, 
 the leader of 'he gang answered : — 
 
 ' AVe know the tender mercies of your king, and 
 none of my party are yet ambitious of gracing a gib- 
 bet ; — we are well armed, and the boldest of your 
 soldiers may rue our unerring aim. At the worst 
 it is but to die — and better to die like men than base- 
 ly yield without a struggle.' 
 
 'Your blood then be upon your own heads, infat- 
 uated men;' said Puxley, retiring beyond the cliff. 
 
 In proportion to the magnitude of their danger 
 did the reckless bravery of these desperate men ap- 
 pear. They rushed forward, with a wild and pierc- 
 ing shout, in front of the horses, which might oth- 
 erwise have served to screen them from the fire of 
 the military. The next brief moment brought them 
 in view of the soldiers, who poured an ill-directed 
 fire upon them, for not a man fell. The smugglers 
 fired in return — the soldiers recoiled — those pursued 
 the advantage till the guns.of the opposing parties 
 met muzzle to muzzle. In that hour of strife, Pu.x- 
 ley, the revenue officer, who the moment before 
 evinced so laudable an anxiety to prevent the flow of 
 human blood, and who did not mingle in the fray, 
 but lay couched on a ledge of the rock, presented 
 his long gun at O' Sullivan, and fired with sure and 
 murderous aim. The fatal ball pierced his side, and 
 as he felt the mortal stroke, he sprang from the 
 ground to a considerable height, then descending in 
 the struggle of death, he reeled to the earth — and as 
 his head met the flinty rock, the butt end of a mus- 
 ket in some ruffian hand, unnecessarily scattered his 
 brains about. AVhen his party saw their leader fall, 
 they resigned aU thoughts of maintaining the fray ; 
 with one wild eflTort they broke through the enemy, 
 and escaping under favor of the night, left their 
 leader and two others of their party dead, while the 
 military had six killed and as many more desperate- 
 ly wounded. 
 
 The remains of Denis O'Sullivan were conveyed 
 to his mother's house ; and as the woe-struck wo- 
 man poured her maternal despair over the remains 
 of her unfortunate son, in the clone which is usual 
 on these mournful occasions — she besought heaven 
 that the wild fox of the hill would lap the heart's 
 blood of her orphan's murderer ! — and the raven of 
 the valley flap her sable wing over his lifeless car- 
 cass ! This dreadful imprecation reached the ears of 
 Puxley : fiUcd with cruel revenge, he assembled a 
 party that surrounded the house of the wretched 
 woman, and set it on fire. As the flames rose 
 through the roof, one, more compassionate than the 
 rest, suffered the almost suffocated inhabitant to es- 
 cape through a window. A cat was the only living 
 thing that remained inside ; and as the devouring 
 flames cut off every place of refuge, the screams of the 
 poor animal, which strongly resembled the shrieks 
 of human despair, were heart-rending ; and Puxley 
 mistaking them for the death-cries of his human 
 victim, ferociously exclaimed ; — 
 
 ' Now the old witch may utter her curses in hell.' 
 
 A year after these dreadful transactions took place, 
 Murtough Oge O'Sullivan came to reside in his native 
 country, and learned the sad fate of his cousin, and the 
 cruel wrongs of his aunt, from her own lips. She 
 urged on him her blessing to revenge the death of her 
 son — and the soldier but too faithfully kept the injunc- 
 tion. The usual mode of seeking to slay an enemy in 
 single combat he could not resort to, for a penal stat- 
 ute prohit)ited him the use of (irc-arms, or even the 
 sword, which was at that time worn as the common 
 mark of gentility. But Murtough Ogc, spurred on to 
 
 vengeance, waylaid Puxley, and shot him tlirough the 
 head. The body of the revenue officer lay whore it 
 fell, undiscovered for some days; and the tradition of 
 that district has it, that the wild fox and the raven lit- 
 erally fullilled the malediction of the widow. The 
 government immediately outlnwed the murderer, and 
 set a price on his head. He defended himself in a cas- 
 tellated residence on the border of the sea, and sueh 
 were his personal bravery and mode of resistance, that 
 the numerous parties which the hope of reward had 
 led to attempt his capture, were alw.ays repulsed. The 
 outlaw led this precarious and desperate life for many 
 years, in utter defiance of the legal authorities. 
 
 One night as Murtough Oge and a few trusty friends 
 kept watch in his stronghold, he felt an unusual de- 
 pression of spirits. The fire that erewhilc blazed 
 brightly on the ample hearth, now decayed in its own 
 ashes, and the occasional light of the dying embers, as 
 it shed a faint glare upon the tall forms and ferocious 
 features around him, was not calculated to dispel the 
 gloom of his heart. Plunged in a deep reverie, he 
 brought to his mind's eye all the varied scenes of his 
 past life, and he sighed at the sad retrospect. Among 
 the faithful few that shared his desperate fortunes, was 
 a harper — a last lingering child of the interesting min- 
 strel race. This son of song had fallen on evil days, 
 but he found himself in the house of his natural pro- 
 tector, for the 'Daly's were, in the olden days, the 
 heredtiary hards of the O'Sullivan Beara. 
 
 'O'Daly,' said the outlaw, 'my heart is desponding 
 and low; the music of your clarseaeh might lay the 
 spirit of melancholy; but let your song be one of sad- 
 ness, for your strains of joy must be reserved for hap- 
 pier hours. 
 
 The hoary minstrel took his harp, and after a short, 
 irregular prelude, he played a wild, melancholy strain, 
 which he accompanied with his voice, and this was 
 the burden of his song: 
 
 'Once upon a time there lived in a strong castle on 
 a tall cliff by the wild sea, a chieftain, and his name 
 went through the remotest ends of the land — r he 
 was the scourge of the oppressor, and the hope of the 
 defenceless. But these noble qualities drew upon him 
 the hatred of certain great men, who bore evil report 
 of him to the high king; and the king gave credit 
 to the report, and summoned the chieftain before him 
 to answer for his alleged crime; but tlie chieftain re- 
 fused to obey, for he saw that to comply would put his 
 life In danger, and then he was outlawed and a price 
 set upon his head. 
 
 'Then the chieftain fortified his castle, and set watch- 
 men in the towers to give notice of the enemy's ap- 
 proach; and foiled in all attempts to take him captive, 
 till one of his own followers at last betrayed him for 
 gold, and the enemy surprised him, and he was taken 
 and put to death.' 
 
 At this part of the song, one Scully, a confidential 
 domestic of the outlaw's, groaned deeply. It was not 
 a groan caused by bodily pain, but sueh a groan of 
 mental agony as might be produced by the keenest 
 sting of remorse. 
 
 'Then the betrayer of his master rose to distinction, 
 ann he became rich, and fitted out a strong ship, with 
 which ho traded to foreign parts. 
 
 'And as he was rctuning from a distant port with his 
 vessel richly laden, a dreadful storm arose; the raging 
 winds tore the sails to shreds, and the masts were 
 shivered to splinters. The sailors manfully braved 
 the storm, and struggled hard for life; but a cry of 
 horror burst from the crew when they perceived a 
 small boat ahead of the ship, in which sat a figure of 
 fierce and threatening aspect, and eyes that seemed to 
 glare ruin on them all. The small boat glided un- 
 harmed in the storm towards tlie rocky shore, and the 
 ship, by some strange attraction, followed in its wake.' 
 
 A second groan, which roused them that heard it 
 into fearful alarm. 
 
 'As they rapidly approached the rocks, the boat that 
 bore the spectre approached the ship and in a voice 
 that rose above the tempest of the deep, he threatened 
 to sink them to the bottom of the sea, if the captain 
 were not given up to him without delay. 
 
 'The sailors, for their own safety, hound the devoted 
 wretch, and lowered him into the small boat, and as 
 the dreadful spectre and his guilty victim retired 
 through the troubled sea, the tempest abated; and 
 while the despairing shrieks of the mortal, and the ex- 
 ulting yells of the spectre pierced the vault of heaven, 
 the boat and Its freightage sunk beneath the yawning 
 waters.' 
 
 Here the feelings of Scully were excited to madness 
 he sprung from his seat, exclaiming, -I am that mur- 
 derous traitor! — I have betrayed my master, and sold 
 the precious blood of an O'Sullivan;' then falling at 
 the outlaw's feet, and presenting his dagger, 'Sheath 
 ibis,' he said, 'in my perjured heart, and rid the world 
 of a ruffian.' 
 
 At this brief moment the tr.impling of feet gave 
 meaning to Scully's incoherent language, for thehonse 
 was surrounded with armed men. Its Inmates were 
 determined to fight to the last extremity, but this des- 
 perate resource was denied them. The villainous 
 Scully, whom the strangely coincident Eong of the 
 bard had roused to a horror of his treachery, had be- 
 trayed his master, and rendered all the fire-arms use- 
 less by soaking their contents with water. Here we 
 are enabled to record an act of devoted attachment on 
 the part of the outlaw's fosterer's, whose name like- 
 wise was O'Sullivan. In this hour of peril he gener- 
 ously resolved to procure his master's safety by his 
 own death. Having attired himself in the usual dress 
 of the outlaw, he rushed, sword in hand, against the 
 soldiery — every musket was levelled at the brave man, 
 and he fell beneath a shower of bullets. The work of 
 destruction was but begun, the house was fired in 
 every direction, and as the inmates rushed from the 
 flames, the leaden messengers of death arrested their 
 farther flight. No trace of the miserable Scully was 
 ever after found; and it is supposed that his despair in- 
 duced him to perish in the flames. As Murtough Oge 
 himself attempted to escape at a private outlet, a gen- 
 tleman of the neighborhood, who guided the troops 
 thither, lying in wait near the spot, and recognizing 
 the noble figure of the fugitive, shot him through the 
 heart. The principal actors in this affair now pre- 
 pared to convey the outlaw's remains to Cork, and a 
 passage by water was deemed the most eligible mode 
 of reaching that city. A boat was accordingly pro- 
 cured but owing either to hatred of the unfortunate 
 Murtough Oge, or to some superstitious observance, 
 or perhaps to a union of both, they would not permit 
 his bloody corpse on board; but the body was bound 
 with a rope to the stern of the vessel, and in that man- 
 ner trailed along the deep from Bearhaven to Cork. 
 On arriving thither, his head was fixed on the goal of 
 the south gate and the headless trunk exhibited for 
 many days to the greedy gaze of the multitude, and 
 finally thrown into a pit. Such was the end of Mur- 
 tough Oge O'Sullivan; his fine natural endowments 
 and social qualities would have dignified any station; 
 but his lot was cast upon evil days, and in the pursuit 
 of revenge, he spurned the laws of God, and incurred 
 the vengeance of that government within whose Iron 
 grasp he met his untimely fate. 
 
 An unfortunate son of genius, the late Mr. Call- 
 anan, has given a translation of an Irish elegy on 
 the death of JIurtougli Oge O'Sullivan, from which 
 we select the following stanzas: — 
 
 The sun on Ivera 
 
 • No longer sliines brightly. 
 
 The voice of her music 
 
 Ko louger is sprightly; 
 Kg more to her maidens 
 
 The light dance is dear, . 
 Shice the death of our durling, 
 
 O'Sullivan Bear! 
 
 Scully, thou false one: 
 
 You baeely betrayed him 
 Inliisetroug Lour of need — 
 
 Wlicu your right hand should aid him; 
 llu fed you— lie clnd you— 
 
 You had all could delight you; 
 You left him — you sold him — 
 
 May heaven requite you ! 
 
324 
 
 IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 Had he died calmly 
 
 I would not deplore lilm; 
 Or had Ibe wild Klrile 
 
 Of the sea-wnve closed o'er him; 
 But withroj)Cti round hifl white limbs, 
 
 Through ocenii to trail him, 
 like a titih after slaughter, 
 
 Tia therefore I wail him. 
 
 In the pit which the vile haiida 
 
 Of soldiers had made thee, 
 Unhonored, unshrouded, 
 
 Aud headless they laid thee; 
 Ko sigh to i«grct thee, 
 
 No eye to rain o'er thee, 
 Ko dirge to lament thee. 
 
 No friend to deplore theo! 
 
 Dear head of my darling! 
 
 How gory and pale 
 These aged eyes see thee 
 
 lligh-spiked on their gaol ; 
 That cheek in the summer's sun 
 
 Ne'er shall grow warm; 
 Nor that eye e'er catch light, 
 
 Save the hash of the storm. 
 
 A curse, blessed ocean I 
 
 Be on thy green water, 
 From the haven of Cork 
 
 To Ivera of slaughter— 
 Since thy billows were dyed 
 
 With the red wounds of fear. 
 Of Muiertach Oge, 
 
 Our O'Sullivau Bear! 
 
 DARBY AND THE RAM. 
 'Twas one of those daj's ivhcn the sun in its per- 
 pendicular altitude looks at two sides of the hedge 
 at once — a lovely midsummer day — when nature 
 was laughing till her sides ached, and mother earth, 
 in her gayest mood, was lavishing her promises and 
 her smiles to her often ungrateful children, the 
 lambs were skipping to and fro within their enclosed 
 pastures, and the cows, with grave and matron as- 
 pect, were lolling in the sun, and ruminating their 
 already gathered repast — every thing seemed happy 
 except the Shepherd Uarby. 
 
 Poor fellow ! A ' green and yellow melancholy,' 
 had settled on Ids manly cheek ; his grief he reveal- 
 ed not, but let ' concealment, like a worm i' the 
 bud," prey upon his spirits ; he stalked about the 
 field like a ghost, or leaned upon his crook in silent 
 despair. 
 
 Lord Amplefield and Squire Buckthorn were rid- 
 ing past to dinner. 
 
 ' 1 wonder,' said his lordship to the squire, 'what 
 can be the matter with my shepherd Darby. He 
 seems in a galloping consumption, and were I to 
 lose him, I would not see his like again for many a 
 long day. He is the most honest, steady, careful 
 creature in the -world, and never told a lie in his 
 life.' 
 
 ' Never told a lie in his life ! Good ! ^^^ly, my 
 lord, do you really believe such nonsense :' 
 
 'Decidedly I do. I know your opinion is not 
 very favorable as to the moral character of our de- 
 pendents, yet there are some among them not im- 
 •worthy of trust.' 
 
 They now advanced nearer, and his lordship held 
 up his whip as a signal and over bounded Darby. 
 
 • Well, Darby, that shower we had last night 
 served the pastures." 
 
 ' It did, my lord, and the cows will give a larger 
 meal, and require milking earlier this evening through 
 means of it.' 
 
 ' Darby, bring over my favorite ram, that this 
 gentleman may see it.' 
 
 ' Yes, my lord. Hallo, Sweeper, away for Ball- 
 face.' 
 
 In a few minutes the dog hunted the ram up from 
 the flock. 
 
 •That's a clever turn, my worthy,' said thesquire, 
 ' here's half a crown to drink.' 
 
 ' Thanks to your honor,' said Darby, ' but the 
 •worth of that in strong drink wUl serve me a year, 
 and yet I'll spend it on drink all in one night.' 
 
 ' Explain this riddle, Darby.' 
 ' ^\1iy, sir, when I feel myself merry enough with- 
 out it, whc re's the use in taking it ? That stream 
 can slake my thirst as well. Vet I'll not speak for 
 otlicrs — many a one there are, who must have strong 
 drink to give them false spirits. On tliem will I 
 spend it to open their hearts, and make them forget 
 their day's toil.' 
 
 ' You are a worthy fellow, and a philosopher," 
 said Lord Amplefield, with a look of triumph, as lie 
 and the squire rode off. ' M'lmt say you to my 
 shepherd now ?' 
 
 ' A mighty plausable fellow, indeed ! Yet proud 
 as you are of him, my lord, I bet a score of sheep 
 that before two days I'll make him tell you a bare- 
 faced lie, out and out." 
 
 ' Done !' said his lordship, the wager was laid, 
 and the squire set out on his lie-making expedition. 
 He soon ascertained the cause of Darby's melan- 
 choly. There had been a quarrel between him and 
 the girl of his heart, the lovely Cauthleen. Pride 
 prevented a reconciliation, though both would have 
 given the world to be in each other's arms. To her 
 the squire bent his steps, succeeded in drawing out 
 the secret that she loved Darby with a heart and a 
 half, and then artfully upbraiding her with unkind- 
 ness in neglecting the ' worthy young fellow,' who 
 was dying for her, contrived to inveigle her, by a 
 series of falsehoods, into a plan to get reconciled to 
 Darby, and while in the height of his happiness, to 
 coax the ram from him. It succeeded next day to 
 admiration — and the laughing girl tripped home, 
 leading the animal with a kerchief taken from her 
 snowy bosom. 
 
 Darby was now left to solitary reflection. The 
 hour was rapidly approaching when his lordship 
 usually took his round, and he would infallibly miss 
 his favorite ram — what was to be done ? To tell a 
 lie appeared to his honest mind the very essence of 
 degradation — to equivocate was meanness execrable 
 — yet an excuse must be had ! A sudden thought 
 seized him — he resolved to see how a lie would look 
 before he told it ; and placed his hat on it, in order 
 to personate himself, he retired to a little distance, 
 and in the character of his lordship, hailed the ef- 
 figy as follows : — 
 
 ' Good morrow. Darby." 
 ' Good morrow, my lord." 
 ' How are the flocks, to-day. Darby ?' 
 ' Pretty fair, my lord." 
 
 ' Darby, I don't see my favorite ram — where is 
 he?' 
 
 ' Oh, my, lord, he — he — he.' 
 ' He what. Darby ?' 
 ' He was drownd-ed — my — my lord !' 
 ' Darby, if I did not know your general character 
 for carefulness, I should feel exceedingly annoyed, 
 but I presume it was an accident. Send the fat 
 and hide up to the castle." 
 
 ' That won't do !' murmured Darby, slowly turn- 
 ing away. He resolved to try again. 
 ' Good morrow, Darby." 
 
 • Good morrow, my lord." 
 
 • Are the flocks well to-day. Darby ?' 
 ' Bravely, my lord." 
 
 • And my ram. Darby, where is lie r" 
 ' My lord, he — be — ." 
 
 ' Is there any thing wrong ? tell me at once.' 
 'Hewassto — len, my — lord.' 
 ' Stolen ! stolen ! 1 ;-iw him this morning as I 
 
 was riding past ! "\Mien was be stolen f" 
 
 'That won"t do either," exclaimed the poor shep- 
 herd, as he turned away the second time. ' Cruel, 
 cruel C'auth!" 
 
 ' Something seemed to whisper to him, ' Try if 
 perhaps the truth will do !" Presh courage ani- 
 mated bis desponding mind, and wheeling about, 
 he recommenced the colloquy, and on coming to the 
 usual iaterrogation, ' where is the ram,' he dropped 
 
 on his knees, and exclaimed : — 
 
 ' Oh, my lord, I liad a tailing out with my sweet- 
 heart, and she would not make it up with me un- 
 less 1 made lier a jjresent of your lordship's favorite 
 ram. Discharge me, my lord, do with me whatyou 
 please, but I could not bring myself to tell your 
 lordship a lie !" 
 
 'Tliatwill do," shouted Darby, springing from 
 his knees, and walking up and down with a feeling 
 of honest exultation. He had scarcely time to com- 
 pose himself when his lordship and the squire ap- 
 peared. Darby, on the usual interrogation being 
 put, dropped on liis knees, and told ' tlie truth, the 
 whole truth, and nothing but the truth ;' and in- 
 stead of seeing a frown gathering on his lord»hip"s 
 countenance, he beheld him turn with a look of 
 triumph towards the squire, while he exclaimed : — 
 'An honest man's the noblest work of God.' 
 
 The ladies a:e informed, in conclusion, that the 
 squire's forfeited sheep were given to Cauthleen as 
 a dower, and in taking the liand of her shepherd, 
 she promised never again to put his truth and con- 
 .stancy to so severe a trial. 
 
 T. E. 
 
 RARE DISCOVERV. 
 
 A TACT. 
 
 Not a hundred years ago, there lived on tho banks 
 of the river Moy, county of Mayo, a person who, 
 though neither a very well educated man or pro- 
 found naturalist, was — what is perhaps, of more 
 consequence in the eyes of t)ie world — a wealthy 
 farmer, and a justice of the peace for one of the neigh- 
 boring counties. It happened that his worship, who 
 was in the frequent habit of visiting his numerous 
 farms on this beautiful river, was obliged to cross a 
 small stream in its vicinity, and, although on horse- 
 back, he was apprehensive of wetting a portion of 
 his dress, out of which he took no small pride, and 
 which he denominated his ' yalla-gaiters.' He there- 
 fore, divested himself of those useful and ornamental 
 appendages, and placing them across the shoulders 
 of his horse, pursued his way, and after some time 
 arrived at the town of Ballina. Here, to his great 
 horror, he discovered that he had dropped his ' yalla 
 gaiters,' and was pondering on the proprietj' of re- 
 turning immediately in search of them, when his 
 magisterial attention was attracted by a crowd of 
 gaping rustics assembled round the caravan of an 
 itinerant Polito, on which were depicted, in glow- 
 ing colors, the various animals contained within. 
 The magistrate forced his way into the crowd, and 
 got in front of the caravan just as the showman, who 
 had been delivering to the bye-standers a long cata- 
 logue of attractions, summed all up by announcing 
 a pair of fine alligators found on the banks of the 
 Nile. 
 
 ' Yalla gaiters,' roared the magistrate, springing 
 from his horse, and seizing the astonished showman 
 by the collar, ' you rascal, them is my yalla gaiters, 
 give them up to me this minute, or, if you don't, 
 I'll cram you into jail for I'm a magisthrate." 
 
 'Your alligators," says the astonished and af- 
 frighted showman, ' why them there alligators were 
 found on the banks of the Nile ?' 
 
 ' Found on the banks of the do-il,' said the mag- 
 istrate, ' none of yoiir thricks upon me, you rascal, 
 I say they were found on the banks of the Moy, and 
 they are my ' yalla gaiters.' 
 
 All the protestations of the poor showman as to 
 his innocence would probably have been vain, had 
 not a friend of the worthy justice, who happened to 
 pass at the time, and who was better skilled in nat- 
 ural history, explained to him his mistake, on which 
 he slipped a crown into the hand of the terrified 
 showman, and desired him to say nothing about the 
 matter. C. 
 
 He only is an acute observer who can observe 
 minutely without being observed. 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 325 
 
 CASTLE AND HOUND TOAVER OF KILDARE. 
 
 Very soon after the arrival of the English in this 
 country, the town of Kildare came into their possess- 
 ion. It was then famous as a place of learning and 
 piety; and a castle was erected by De Vesey, to whom 
 the town and district around were granted, for the 
 protection and defence of his extensive possessions. 
 About the year 1 290, a quarrel of a very violent na- 
 ture arose between the Lord of Ophaly, and William 
 de Vescy, then Earl of Kildare and Lord Justice of 
 Ireland. Fitz Thomas of Ophaly offered to decide 
 the dispute according to the chivalrous custom of the 
 times, by single combat in the lists, and God protect 
 and defend the just cause. De Vescy refused; and 
 then Filz Thomas laid his cause before the king, when 
 the king deprived De Vescy of the town and manor of 
 Kildare, and most of his other possessions, which he 
 granted to the Lord of Ophaly, who then became the 
 first Earl of Kildare of the line of Geraldine. This 
 latter circumstance took place aboit the year 1.316, 
 after the De Vescys holding the property by 'he right 
 of arms for upwards of a century. 
 
 In the year 1294, the Prince of Hy Falia, called Col- 
 brach O'Connor, invaded the English possession, and 
 took the castle of Kildare, and burned all the records 
 and deeds of the manor; and, as the old account has 
 it, destroyed the tallies, a species of wooden accounts 
 kept between lord and menial, at a time when writing 
 was considered a very high attainment. O'Connor 
 held possession upwards of twelve years, and was then 
 defeated by the Lord Ophaly, and obliged to return to 
 his own district, in what is now called the King's 
 County, and county of Westmeath. Hy Falia was 
 a man composed of a union of the Hy Maghlonagh, 
 Hy Da Leigh Hy Conair, &c., or the country of the 
 O'Malones, O'Dalys, O'Melaghlins, (now M'Lough- 
 lin,J O'Connors, &c., comprising a very extensive 
 tract in Lcinster. In l.^Og, a parliament was held in 
 Kildare, but the records must have been destroyed, as 
 there is no account of the nature of the business trans- 
 acted. In the reign of Queen Elizabeth this town was 
 made the theatre of repeated depredations, being plun- 
 dered several times, and the inhabitants massacred or 
 obliged to fly. Bishop O'Daly was turned out of his 
 house, almost naked, three times, and all his property 
 carried away; so that the town was reduced to a heap 
 of deserted ruins, with scarcely a single inhabitant. 
 
 In 1643, the castle was repaired and a garrison 
 placed in it by the Eurl of Castlelmvcn and Kildare 
 began again to assume the appearance of a town; as 
 
 the protection afforded by the garrison encouraged the 
 people to come and build houses again. During the 
 wars of the period, the cathedral was nearly destroyed 
 — having the steeple beaten down by cannon. 
 
 In 1647 this town was taken by Colonel Jones, but 
 it was afterwards taken by the Irish forces, in whose 
 possession it remained until the summer of 1649, when 
 the lord lieutenant again became possessed of it. The 
 round tower, which it situated near the cathedral, is in 
 good preservation, and seems to have been built of 
 two kinds of stone. From the foundation to about 
 twelve or thirteen feet is composed of a kind of white 
 granite, and the remainder of a common kind of stone 
 of a dark color. The entrance or door is placed about 
 fourteen feet feet from the ground, and it is full one 
 hundred and thirty feet in height. 
 
 The present town of Kildare has improved very 
 much of late years and seems not to be placed on the 
 site of the ancient town, but some east, on a clear ris- 
 ing ground. It formerly sent two members to the 
 Irish parliament, the patronage in the Duke of Leiu- 
 ster — it has four fairs in the year. •/. L, L. 
 
 A FISHERMAN'S TALE. 
 
 A curious story is told in the North, which from 
 the time that the incident of which it is the subject 
 occurred, and the evidence of it that remain, seems 
 entitled to some share of credit There was always 
 a great plenty of bream in Lough M. till within the 
 last si.xty years, when they disappeared on a sud- 
 den, and though persons have constantly fished in 
 the lake since, there has not been a single one taken. 
 
 by the guager. From this out, Morris was seldom 
 seen sober, and though he before gave good bread to 
 his family, he now worked but seldom, spending 
 the most of his time in a shebeen house. Whilst 
 Morris was thus becoming a beggar, Brady was get- 
 ting prosperous, and was able to increase his stock 
 with a cow, and to grow more flax than he used. 
 His success made him hateful to Morris, who look- 
 ed with a wicked eye, and he would even sometimes 
 tell his friends, that Brady informed and got money 
 for it ; but to make a long story short, Morris with 
 two others, happened to go out to fish, one night in 
 summer, and taking too much of the potheen, they 
 began to quarrel with each other, when one of them 
 observing Brady, as he watched his lines seated in 
 his cot, told his companions, who rowed up, and 
 seemed at first friendly, but they shortly accused 
 him of informing on them, which raised a fight, and 
 whilst his companions were seizing on Brady, Mor- 
 ris took an oar and drove it through the bottom of 
 the boat, which filled and sunk with Brady. His 
 two companions fled from the country, but Morris 
 being taken was tried, yet for want of proof he was 
 acquitted ; he lived in this place for seven years af- 
 ter, and it was remarked that as often as he went on 
 the water, the lake became disturbed and heaved 
 the cots about as if it blew a storm, though the day 
 itself was calm. At length when Morris was dying, 
 he called together his neighbors and told them the 
 whole story, and, said he, ' no person can ever catch 
 a bream, till all who were on the lake the night 
 of Brady's murder are dead.' As yet, says the 
 old man, Morris's words are true, for one of his com- 
 
 whilst perch and roach are caught in great abun 
 dance. On inquiring from an old man, who lives , panions is, they say, alive in America, and in my 
 close to the lake, the cause of this strange affair, he memory, I never saw a bream come from the lake, 
 told me the following story. though I have always lived beside it. 
 
 For some years before the flight of the bream, C. J. S. 
 
 there were two men named Morris and Pat. Brady, »-•-•-< 
 
 who constantly fished here : they knew every part | Spenser's Fairy Queen When Spenser had 
 
 of the lake, and had great success in taking the finished his poem of the Fairy Queen, he carried it 
 bream ; for several years they agreed well enough, to the Earl of Southampton, the great patron of 
 
 till some men set up a still in the adjoining bog, 
 they persuaded Morris to give up his old employ-- 
 ment and join with them in the still — but here, says 
 the old man, the bad work begins. It was not more 
 than half a year after the still was set up, when some 
 one informed against Morris and his friends, who 
 shortly after saw their still and their all curried away 
 
 the poets of that day. The manuscript being sent 
 up to the Earl he read a few pages, and then order- 
 ed his servant to give the writer £20. Reading on, 
 he cried in a rapture, 'carry that man another £20. 
 Proceeding further he exclaimed, 'give him £20 
 more.' At length he said, 'turn that fellow out, 
 for if I read farther I shall be ruined." 
 
326 
 
 HUSH mSCELLANT. 
 
 THE O'SULLIVAN BEAR. 
 
 The lollowing nflToctinK incidents rclotivo to n mcm- 
 bor of the once powerful family iilluilud to in the story 
 which wc liiivo ;;iven in our preceding pauos, wo copy 
 from iin interesting volume entitled, 'Sketches in Ire- 
 land,' by C. O. 
 
 After the sack of his stronghold, O'Sullivan, wiih 
 his wife, children, retainers, and cattle, took shelter in 
 the woods of Glengariff. Tyrrel and O'Connor Kerry 
 held communicaiion with him along the ridge of 
 Sliovelogher. Eugene M'Kijan, the Apostolic Vicar, 
 was in the centie of the M'Curihies of Carbcrry. Bui 
 the lonl president was not to be withstood; f.nd his 
 lieutenant, Sir Charles Wilmot. who was as good a 
 guerilla as Tyrrell, and who knew the fastnesses of 
 Slicveloglicr and Desmond as well as if he were the 
 son of a Sullivan, surj)rised the O'Sullivans in Glen- 
 gariff. The rriiue of Bear and Buntry, amidst his 
 own rocks, bogs and woods, fought in the face of his 
 wife, children, and people; — the battle was for the de- 
 fence of the cattle, their only subsistence — their all. 
 Through the whole Munster war, never was a field so 
 desperately contested. From rock to roek, and ridge 
 to ridge, the Irish suffered the assault of the English; 
 and still the well-armed and fearless assailants carried 
 one position after another, until the O'Sullivans gave 
 way, and scattered over the hills like sheep, leaving 
 their herds a prey to the spoiler. 
 
 And now Tyrrell, finding the left of his position on 
 Slievelogher, turned by Wilmot — perceiving the game 
 was up in Munster, and hopeless of further Spanish 
 aid, with the decision and disj-atch for which he was 
 notorious, retreated along the eastern parts of Kerry, 
 through Limerick, Ormond, and Ely O'Carrol, until 
 he reached in safety, with all his partizans, into his 
 own country. O'Sullivan still clung, with craving 
 hope to his native rocks — but winter coming on, 
 famine stared him and all belonging to him in the face 
 — for AVilmot had wasted all Bear, Bantry, and the 
 whole of Kerry — not a cow, garrane, goat or sheep did 
 he leave from Slieumiss to Glentlesk. O'Sullivan, 
 therefore, consigning his wife and children to the care 
 of his faithful gossip, Gorrane M'Swiney, determined 
 to follow Tyrrell's example, and retreat to the confed- 
 erates that siill held out at Breffny and Ulster. He, 
 therefore set out in company with William Burke, 
 O'Connor Kerry, and one hundred of faithful and vet- 
 eran Bonnaughts. 
 
 Gorrane, whose whole soul was in his charge, re- 
 turned with them to a boolie he had set up under the 
 foot of the Eagle's Precipice at Glengariff. This boo- 
 lie or hut was so contrived that Wilmot and his Saxon 
 devils, (as Gorrane called ihcm,) might scour the 
 mountain over and never see or suspect that there was 
 in such a desert a human habitation. It was erected 
 against the face of a rocky ridge, the roof sloped down 
 till it touched the moor, and wcs covered with scraws 
 or sods of heath, so thai the place was undisiingusha 
 ble from the shelving slope of the mountain, and the 
 entrance being by a long, distant, and winding pas- 
 sage in the rock, and charcoal burned on the hearth for 
 fire — it was secure from suspicion. But how was the 
 Princess of Bear and Bantry to be supported, not one 
 cow was there to give milk, no com, nor root, nor 
 pulse. Gorrane had one salted salmon, wrapped up 
 in a cow's hide; that was all his provision when they 
 entered the t>oolie, and where to go seek for food, Gor- 
 rane knew not under heaven; famine had spread over 
 the southern land— as Spencer says, 'the people of 
 Munster were brought to such wretchedness that even 
 a heart of stone would have rued to see the same; for 
 out of every comer of the woods and glynnes they 
 came creeping forth on their bands and knees, for their 
 le"S could not bear them; they looked like anatomies 
 of death, they spake like ghosts, crying out of their 
 graves, they did eat the dead carrion, happy were they 
 when they could find them, yea, and one another, 
 sometime after, insomuch that the very carcasses they 
 spared not to scrape out of their graves, and if they 
 fonnd a plot of water-cresses or shamrock there thej 
 flocki d as to a feast.' 
 
 In tliis extremity of desolation was the south-west of 
 Cork and Desmond, when Gorrane took home his 
 charge to his boolie, and the poor fosterer knew not 
 what to do — all his trust was that God was good, and 
 the Virgin Mother, his protectrees, would not fail in 
 his hour of need; and as thus one morning he was 
 ruminating, as he rambled undei the precipice, where 
 year after year the eagles of the valley had nested ami 
 reared their young; and looking up, he saw one of 
 these huge birds sailing on steady wing, with a hare 
 within its talons, and now it alighted on its rock-nest, 
 and anon the young eagles were shrieking with tri- 
 umi)h over the divided prey. 
 
 'Arrah, now is it not the greatest pity in life that 
 these young hell-birds that look for all the world like 
 the childer of these cramming, beef-eating devils, the 
 Saxon churls — my heavy curse upon them — that these 
 greedy guts should be after swallowing the game that 
 nobody has any right to but O'Sullivan, and my sweet 
 mistress and little ones, all the while starving. Now 
 its I that have a thought in my head, wliich no living 
 soul but the Virgin herself could have put into it, and 
 it's myself knows what I will do.' 
 
 So home Gorrane went, and all day long he was 
 seen busy twisting firmly with all his might a rope 
 made from the fibres of the bog-fir, and towards even- 
 ing he took out from his store, his salmon, and gave 
 the greater part of it to be broiled for supper, and long 
 before the following daybreak, Gorraine got up from 
 his bed of heath, and he awoke Phadrig, his son, a boy 
 about fourteen years old: — 'Phadrig, avich, get up — 
 come along with me.' 
 
 The boy, light and active, was beside him in an in- 
 stant, and out they both started — the father, with his 
 woolen rope in his hand. Just as the d.ty was break- 
 ing, they came to the brink of a mountain ridge that 
 ascends from the precipitous valley, where the eagles 
 build their nest, and just as the}- arrived at the verge 
 of the chasm, they saw the old eagles soaring away to 
 meet the sun, and to seek for their prey over land and 
 sea. 
 
 'Phadrig a cushla, look down there,' says the father, 
 'look down below, and see that bird's nest; down there 
 you must go, by the help of this rope, if you have any 
 regard for the life of the mother that bore you, and of 
 the sweet mistress, for whom we are bound to live or 
 spend our blood and die. You must go down by the 
 help of the rope, and tie these straps that I will give 
 you, round the necks of yonder gaping greedy-guts; 
 don't choke them for the life of you, but just tie their 
 ugly necks so tight that not one morsel shall they 
 swallow.' 
 
 'And now, father, sure its I myself that would de- 
 sire no better sport than to gel down and wring their 
 necks off, and bring them up to you; but sure, father, 
 the Lady O'Sullivan must be cruel hungry when she 
 would eat eagles.' 
 
 'Oh, that would not do at all, Phadrig, jewel, that 
 would be the spoiling without cure of the whole thing 
 — no, my honey, handle them gently, treat the nasty 
 things as if thcr were your mother's daughters — only 
 do, Phadrig, just as I bid you.' 
 
 'Well, father, mind you hold tight and I will do 
 your bidding.' 
 
 So Gorrane fastened well the rope about the boy's 
 waist and between his legs, and down he lowered him, 
 in the name of God and all the saints. The youth 
 soon got to the nest — as he was bid, tightened well the 
 necks of the young eaglets, so that they could not 
 swallow, and then he w;>s safely drawn up. For an 
 hour or two the father and son waited near the nest, 
 and at length were gratified with seeing the old ones 
 come soaring down the wind, otrc with a rabbit, an- 
 other with a grouse in its talons, which they deposited 
 in the nest, and after a time flew away. 
 
 Now, Phadrig, avoumeen, down with you again. 
 
 and in thin manner wero the family in the boolie fed, 
 until the English retreated from the country, and the 
 wife of O'Sullivan and her faithful followers could 
 reach a place of more plently and security. 
 
 In the meanwhile, O'Sullivan, William Bourke, and 
 O'Connor Kerry had set out on their perilous retreat; 
 they took their way through Murdering Glen, and 
 around the foot of the Ivelearagh mountains, and 
 through the district of Mu-kerry. That uncertain 
 turncoat, Teige M'Carthy, safe with no man, and true 
 to no party, attacked them in the passage of the Leo, 
 and they lost some of their best men. John Barry of 
 Buttevant, who was neither fish nor flesh, whose blood 
 was bad because there was English in it, a false Irish- 
 man, because a mixed mongrel, he, instead of giving 
 them welcome at Liscarroll, turned, churl, as he was, 
 the guns of his castle on them; and moreover, he sent 
 out all his men on garrans, to press and prey them on. 
 Siill onward they went leaving to the left the Bally- 
 hour mountains. They descended into the plains of 
 Limerick. Here they found for a few days food for 
 themselves and pasture for their horses; and then 
 northward they rode until passing under the Galtee 
 chain, they reached the rich valley of the Suir. Here 
 O'Sullivan and O'Connor trusted that in this very fer- 
 tile vale which the Catholic church had appropriated 
 to herself, and amidst the opulent abbeys that raised 
 their cloistered fronts along its beautiful stream, they 
 would have been refreshed. Thus they stopped at 
 Athassel, but the Sa.\on spoiler had driven the peace- 
 ful dwellers from this splendid monument of the piety 
 of De Burgo, the red earl — and they passed on to the 
 Rock of Cashel. But here again was no rest for the 
 hoofs of their horses, for the lord president had ad- 
 vised by bis scouts, the shcrifli' of the Cross in the Pal- 
 atinate of Tipperary, that traitors to the queen's high- 
 ness were traversing his bailiwick, and the raising of 
 the loyally of the Palatinate was on horse to pursue 
 the fugitives, who fltd northward along the left skirts 
 of the plain that lies between the Suir and the moun- 
 tains of Clanwilliam. They saw, and only saw, the 
 tower of Holycross at a distance, and receiving as 
 much refresment as the poor monks of Monaincha 
 could supply, tbcy turned to the left under Benduff, 
 the black mountain out of which the Suir and Noro 
 take their rise. Proceeding by the borders of Ormond 
 and Ely O'Carroll, they reached the Shannon, where 
 it spreads broad and beautiful under the old Bardic 
 College of Terryglass; and here what was to be done? 
 The whole English rising, headed by the sheriflTs of 
 the Cross and Liberty of Tipfierary, were behind, and 
 within a few miles of them — before them the Shannon, 
 spreading like an inland sea; and 'shall,' says O'Sul- 
 livan, 'the Saxon churls after all our battles, and all 
 our escapes, shall ihey here take us, like foxes they 
 have driven into a bag — shall our quarters dangle from 
 these trees, as piecemeal food for carrion crows? No; 
 by the assistance of Saint Patrick and the Virgin, it 
 shall not be — come, let us turn our good nags into 
 nevoges, and ride on them over the Shannon. Come, 
 boys, out with your skeins, let each man cut his good 
 horse's throat, and more's the pity to do it, and we 
 will make coraghs of their skins, and dress a stake to 
 satisfy hunger even from their flesh.' Accordingly, 
 they set to work — the horses were slaughtered in the 
 wood of Dromina, that overhangs the ancient abbey of 
 Terryglass, and the old fortress of the O'Griflin. They 
 made basket boats, and covered them with their horse 
 hide-s, and just as the 'possee comitatus' of Tipperary 
 with the sheriffs at their head, were riding down the 
 Ormond hills overhanging the Shannon, where they 
 expected to find and ovenvhelm the runaways, O'Sul- 
 livan and his troop were afloat on the bosom of the 
 Shannon, which, as in pity to their adventure, spread 
 its waveless bosom to receive them, and across they 
 wafted themselves in sight of their surprised and dis- 
 appointed enemies. And now, having landed on that 
 
 —and to be sure it's I that will hold you tight;— gut moorland district of Galway, which in those days was 
 the game, throw the garbage to the young ones, it's called Tough Kilnalehera, they here rested as long as 
 right and natural they should have it, and bring up their horse-flesh lasted, and then were forced to press 
 under your two arms O'Sullivan's rightful property, onwards, towards Clanrickard, where they were at- 
 All thU the boy did with address and expedition; ' tacked by Sir T. Bourke and Captain Maltby, who at 
 
 J 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 327 
 
 that time held tliis portion of Connaught for the queen. 
 
 The confederates retired to a roeky fastness, pro- 
 teeted in (he rero hy the precipitons ledge of a moun- 
 tain range hefore thffni, and in the only accessible point 
 of attack, was a narrow defile, overhung with wood, 
 and from behind a rock, the confederates could see and 
 dt fend all approach to their position. Mallby, in the 
 meantime, who was a fine tall soldier, but a hot, im- 
 petuous chanicter, rushed forward into the defile. 
 O'Connor Kerry had known him in peaceable limes, 
 and at a banijuet given by the Lord President of Mun- 
 ster to the assembled nobility of Munster and Con- 
 naught, O'Connor had given to this Maltby the right 
 hand of fellowship. He therefore now called out — 
 
 'Maltby, my old friend, come not a foot farther, or 
 you are a dead num. Captain, I have you covered 
 with my good arquebuss which never missed its aim. 
 I once gave you my hand in friendship — that hand 
 would be reluctantly raised to send you into eternity. 
 Whv pursue usi Wliy seek our lives? Let us pass 
 through your country in peace. Give us food and rest 
 for a law days, and not a cow or garrane of yours shall 
 we touch. Come, my ancient friend, open the way for 
 us, let us pass into the O'Rourke's country.' 
 
 'What!' cried the fiery Maltby, 'shall it ever be said 
 that I parlied with traitors. No! down, rebel, with 
 yonr arms, and submit to the queen's clemency.' 
 
 'Clemency!' cried O'Sullivan, 'Oh ye spirits of my 
 peoptl.murdered in rcl 1 blood at Dunl oy.bcar witness 
 to Saxon clemency. Fire, fire! in memory of Dun- 
 boy. Hurra — O'Sullivan, aboo — fire!' 
 
 The well-directed volley was discharged, and Malt- 
 bv, struck by a bullet in the forehead, fell dead, and 
 manv of his men being killed or wounded, onwards 
 rushed the confederates; they must fight or die, and 
 plunging on like desperadoes, they overturned, con 
 quered, and dispersed the Connaughtmcn, and efl'ected 
 their retreat unmolested into O'Rourke's county. 
 
 Female Intrepiditt. — It is recorded that a battle 
 was fought near Newtownhamilton, in the barony of 
 Fews, country of Armagh, between O'Neil of Ulster, 
 denominated Black Beard (Fesng Dhu) and one of the 
 princes of Louth, in which many -were slain on both 
 sides, and where O'Neilalso fell; the quarrel is said to 
 have orignated at a feast given on the spot, by the 
 Princeof louth setting fire to 'Neil's beard, who did 
 not relish so warm a reception. The beard seems to 
 have been the seat of honor amongst the Milesians, 
 and any affront offered to its flowing locks could only 
 be expiated with the life of the offender. In later days 
 the neighborhood of the Fews has been infested by 
 robbers, and three miles from Newtonhamilton a bar- 
 rack was built to keep the freebooters in check. Two 
 of their scattered party entered the country house of 
 Mr. Kelso, in that place one evening, knowing that he 
 and his lady had gone to dine at a friend's, and that 
 the men servants were absent; the robbers easily se- 
 cured the two female domestics and proceeded to the 
 parlor, where Miss Kelso was alone — a girl about 
 eleven years old; they ordered her on pain of death to 
 show till m where the plate and money were kept, and 
 she led them to a closet which contained all the valua- 
 bles; whilst they were engaged in ransacking the 
 presses, she silently lefc the room and shut the door, 
 which had a spring lock; and as there was but one 
 small window, secured by iron bars, she felt certain 
 that the robbers could not possibly escape; meanwhile 
 Miss Kelso went to the kitchen and released ilie ser- 
 vant women, who were tied hand and foot, and with 
 their assistance collected straw, dry sticks, and what- 
 ever ccmbustibles were about the place, and making a 
 heap of these, lighted them on an eminence which 
 would be seen ''rom the house where her parents were. 
 The plan succeeded — the blaze soon attracted observa- 
 tion — and Mr. Kelso returned as soon as possible, with 
 all the assistance he could assemble, to extinguish the 
 supposed fire in his house. On his arrival, he was 
 agreeably surprised to learn how matters stood, and 
 
 eized the robbers without difficulty. 
 
 ANECDOTE OF A WEASEL! 
 
 On a fine morning in the spring of 1828, while 
 walking on the road from Ncwry to Warrenpoint, en- 
 joying the pleasure to be derived from the most en- 
 chanting scenery, and inhaling with delight the invig- 
 orating breeze, as it came fresh and bracing up the 
 valley, impregnated with saline particles from the far- 
 famed Lough of Carlingford, my attention was sud- 
 denly aroused, by observing, at a short distance in 
 front, a weasel descending from a hedge and endeav- 
 oring to convey, with great apparent difficulty, the 
 dead body of another animal towards a marsh on the 
 opposite side of the road; on my near approach, it re- 
 linquished its burden and retreated to its former posi- 
 tion. On arriving at the spot, 1 was rather surprised 
 at finding what I hid conceived to be the body of a 
 rat, lo be tliat of a full grown weasel, grey with age. 
 As I never before had an opportunity of examining 
 this animal closely, I was highly gratified with my 
 prize, and returned homewards, intending to preserve 
 it. I had not proceeded far, when casually looking 
 behind me, I was astonished at perceiving the live an- 
 imal within a few paces of me, exhibiting, in the most 
 lively manner, by its gestures and appearance, the 
 most intense anxiety and distress. I stopped, and so 
 did it, and after looking in my face for a few seconds, 
 it seemed to gather courage and gradually drew 
 nearer; I then held the dead body behind me, it imme- 
 diately went behind and varying its position as I 
 ehanaed mine, seemed determined not to lose sight of 
 the object of its solicitude. 
 
 I had before lieaid of the spitefulness and venom tf 
 weasels, and own I at first felt apprehensive it would 
 attack me, but on examining the countenance of my 
 new acquaintance, 1 found in it no traces of ferocity, 
 on the contrary it evinced nothing but supplication 
 and despair, moving his head continually from side to 
 side, and keeping its ej'es fixed intently on what I be- 
 gan to consider the body of a beloved parent, it still 
 watched my motions and followed me a considerable 
 distance. 
 
 During this extraordinary pantomime, I was joined 
 by several persons, the novelty of the circumstance in- 
 ducing them to stop, and among others, by a gentle- 
 man of Newry, who requested me to lay down the 
 body, that we might see the result; on my doing so, 
 the other seized it by the back, not fiercely, but with 
 the greatest care — and nothing disturbed by the pres- 
 ence of nearly a dozen spectators — with the greatest 
 apparent labor, suceceded in bringing it under a gate 
 into the marsh. The gentlemen followed, but, (as I 
 felt rather chagrined at losing my prize,) I did not, 
 and so cannot say how it eventually disposed of it. 
 
 "William Needham Thompson, Esq., collector of 
 Newry, the gentleman alluded to above, can vouch for 
 the authenticity of this anecdote. R. A. 
 
 inactive, it was deemed, would be almost equal to a 
 victory; but to eflect it appcarecT difficult. In this 
 conjuncture. Sir Patrick Lawless, an Irish gentleman, 
 then a colonel in the French army, boldly tendered his 
 services to carry this important matter into execution, 
 and charged himself singly to secure the person of the 
 duke. Having previously concerted all his measures, 
 he repaired to the ducal palace, as charged with a 
 .special commission from Philip. He invited the duke 
 to take a walk on a fine terrace, in order to converse 
 the more freely. As the conversation became more 
 interesting, they insensibly rambled to a considerable 
 distance from the suite of the duke, until they came to 
 a passage which led to the high road, where the colo- 
 nel had a carriage in waiting. Lawless now changed 
 his tone, and in a few words, told his highness that he 
 muit directly, and without the least appearance of con- 
 straint, take a seat in the coach; as he had engaged, at 
 the hazard of his head, to bring him to Madrid, where 
 he would find Philip ready to receive him with open 
 arms. The determined tone with which these words 
 were uttered, the appearance of the man, and, above 
 all, his character for resolution and bravery, induced 
 the duke to acquiesce, rather than adopt the more dan- 
 gerous altenative of resistance. They soon arrived at 
 Madrid, where he met with a most gracious reception. 
 The battle of Almanza, which happened some time 
 after, made the duke deem his visitor his presrver, as 
 well as that of his immense estate. Lawless was raised 
 in a short time to the rank of lieutenant-general and 
 governor of Majorca, and in the course of a few years, 
 Philip appointed him his ambassador to the court of 
 Versailles. 
 
 INTREPIDITY OF AN IRISH GENTLEMAN! 
 
 At the commencement of the 18th century, the suc- 
 cession to the crown of Spain was disputed by two 
 claimants, Charles, Prince of Bavaria, son of the Em- 
 peror of Germany, and Philip, son of Louis, Duke of 
 Anjou. Recourse being had to arms, a war, which 
 cost both parties much, as well in blood as in treasure, 
 was carried on for a long time with various success; 
 but, at length, by the famous treaty of Utrecht in 
 171.3, Philip was seated securely on the throne, and 
 the crown of Spain thus became vested in a branch of 
 the house of Bourbon. In the course of the war, the 
 following remarkable instance of intrepidity and dar- 
 ing is recorded to have taken place, which, we think 
 possesses interest for our readers. 
 
 In consequence of the defeat at Saragossa, and the 
 very low state to which France was thereupon reduced, 
 Pliilip greatly apprehended that he should be obliged 
 to relinquish his pretensions. Many of the Spanish 
 nobility preserved a sort of dubious neutrality, and 
 some were even suspected of being secretly in the in- 
 terest of his competitor, Charles. Among the latter 
 was one of the most distinguished and influential, the 
 Duke of Medini Celi. To render so powerful a prince 
 
 Ikish Soldiers. — 1544. 'In the siege of Bonl- 
 logne, the Irish stood the armie in verie good sted, for 
 they were not only contented to burn and spoil all the 
 village thereunto adjoining, but also they would range 
 twenty or thirty miles into the mainland, and furnish 
 the campe with beefe. The French, with their strange 
 kind of warfaring astonished, sent an ambassador to 
 King Henrie, to learn whether he brought men with 
 him or devils, that could neither be wonne with re- 
 wards, nor pacified by pilie; which the king turned to 
 a jest. After that Boullogne was surrendered, there 
 encamped on the west side of the towne, beyond the 
 haven, an armie of Frenchmen, amongst whom there 
 was a Thresonicall Golias, that came to the brinke of 
 the haven, and there challenged anie one of the Eng- 
 lish armie, that durst be so bardie as to bicker with 
 him hand to hand. And albeit the distanse of the 
 place, the depth of the haven, and the nearness of his 
 companie, imboldened him to the challenge, yet all 
 this notwithstanding an Irishman named NichoU 
 Welsh, who after retained to the Earl of Kildare, 
 louthing and disdaining his proud brass, flung into the 
 water, and swam over the river, fought with the chal- 
 lenger, strake him for dead, and returned back to 
 Boullogne with the Frenchman, his head in his mouth, 
 before the armie could overtake him; for which ex 
 ploit he was, of all his companie, highly commended, 
 so by the lieutenant he was highly rewarded. — HoUins- 
 hcd's (Jhronide. 
 
 The 'Uses of Adversity.' — The most advan- 
 tageous situation in which human creatures can bo 
 placed, is that in which they are surrounded by super- 
 able diflicultics. Where there are no difficulties there 
 is no stimulus to exertion; where difficulties are in- 
 superable, there is no hope of success. But o due ra- 
 tio between the impediments opposed to national pro- 
 gress and the means of removing them — between natu- 
 ral obstacles and the human faculties — constitutes the 
 maximum of human advantages. It is neither just 
 nor accurate to suppose that the best jirodigality of 
 Nature is shown in gifts which are palpable to sight. 
 There is a richer and a dearer beauty, perceptible 
 only to the mind, in his ver)- parsimony; for, if she 
 sometimes allows to nations a prosperity attained by 
 greater labor, she makes that prosperity more noble 
 and more secure. 
 
IRISH SnSCELLAISir. 
 
 Brickcen Bridge in the Lakes of Killarney repre- 
 sented above, unites the extremity of the promon- 
 torj- of Mucniss with Brickecn Island ; it consists of 
 one CJothic arch, whose altitude is seventeen feet, 
 and span twenty-seven, and was built by the late 
 Colonel Herbert. An interesting article, concern- 
 ing a day's tour on the Lakes, by our correspondent, 
 ' J. E. F.,' will be found on our tenth page, to 
 which wc refer the reader. 
 
 THE BECCARMAN AND THE BLACKSMITH. 
 
 About the beginning of the last century a weal- 
 thy farmer lived in the lonely district of Kilmacre- 
 nan, in the north of Ireland. Ilis cottage was sur- 
 rounded with hills, which were used as a sheep 
 walk, their surface was unsheltered, except where 
 occasional clusters of stunted hawthorn and elder 
 trees were scattered. About half a mile from the 
 farmer's dwelling were the ' cross-roads,' distin- 
 guished by the white-washed forge and cabin of 
 Taddy JIurphy, the blacksmith, and called from 
 this circumstance the ' Carthan ba^\-n.' It was late 
 in October, 1703, when the farmer, baring collected 
 what at that time was deemed a good sum, by his 
 sales at various fairs, was suddenly called from home 
 to attend the funeral of an aunt, which took place 
 at a considerable distance from his neighborhood. 
 The money his tratfic had brought him was neces- 
 sarily left, in his absence, in the care of his wife. 
 On the third evening after his departure, the ser- 
 vant girl was washing the potatoes for supper, when 
 a sturdy looking beggarraan approached the house. 
 
 ' Mistress, mistress, dear," cried Sally, • there's a 
 strange bocaugh coming ; any how, I don't like the 
 look of him at all ! He's the biggest man I ever see, ' 
 beats the master out and out, and more by token, he | 
 has the devil of a wicked look !' 
 
 ' Shut the door then," said the mistress of the cot- 
 tage. 
 
 Sally was about to obey, when it struck her mis- 
 tress that, lonely and unprotected as they were, 
 civilitj- was their best play ; as if the beggarman | 
 should choose to enforce his admission by violent I 
 means, they would not be able to offer resistance. 
 
 BRICKEEN BRIDGE 
 
 He entered and unceremoniously seated himself by 
 the fire. 
 
 ' '\\Tiat are you getting for dinner ?' he asked. 
 
 'Beef and potatoes,' replied Sally. 
 
 ' If you mean that bit of meat,' rejoined the boc- 
 augh, • it won't he enough to give a taste to the 
 boys.' 
 
 JIrs, JIac Gunshigan looked surprised. 
 
 ' Ay, mistress, you'll have company here by and 
 by, this is a cold, raw evening, and they'll want 
 something comfortable." 
 
 'Put down more then,' said the farmer's wife. 
 
 Dinner was nearly ready, when the blacksmith of 
 the ' Carthan bawn ' entered. 
 
 'Then it's myself that's proud to see you,' said 
 Sally to him in a low voice. 
 
 Paddy Murphy's appearance did not please the 
 bocaugh, who sturdily asked him, what brought him 
 there. 
 
 Paddy looked astonished, but answered ' that he 
 merely called upon his way from a neighbor's to see 
 how his friend, Mrs. Mac Gunsliigan was.' 
 
 ' Then you may take yourself off again," said the 
 bocaugh, ' we don't want you here.' 
 
 ' And who are you that orders me off:' asked Pad- 
 dy Murphy. 
 
 ' I'll show you in no time,' said the mendicant, 
 flourishing his shillelah. 
 
 ' jVnd if it comes to that, begad I'll have a hit too, 
 before I leave this house at your bidding,' said 
 Paddy. 
 
 The beggarman aimed a blow at Paddy's head, 
 but he dexterously avoided it, and his hammer de- 
 scended with such fat.il force on liis opponent's tem- 
 ple that the huge beggarman fell dead upon the 
 ground with a single groan ! 
 
 ' Oh, murder, murder,' cried the women 'you've 
 kilt him.' 
 
 ' By dad," said Paddy, coolly, ' it would have been 
 the murder not to kill him ;' and he opened the coat 
 of the pretended mendicant, and exhibited his belt 
 well furnished with pistols— a whistle hung from 
 his neck. ' Xow,' said the blacksmith, ' we'll havej 
 all the murder out, if you can only fiie a pistol.' 
 
 ' I can fire right weU,' said Sally. | 
 
 'I'll try and fire, too,' said Mrs. Mac Gunshigan. 
 
 At this juncture the farmer unexpectedly return- 
 ed, to the great delight of his Mfe and .Sally. 
 
 ' AVhat lumber's this ?' he exclaimed stumbling 
 over the body of the bandit. 
 
 ' It's a corpse !' said his wife. 
 
 ' Lord save us ! who's kilt ?' 
 
 ' The captain of a gang of robbers, and if I had 
 not settled him, he and his gang would have left no 
 one here to tell tales to-morrow,' said the black- 
 smith. 
 
 The farmer lifted up his hands, struck with as- 
 tonishment. 
 
 ' If we only manage cutely,' said Paddy Murphy, 
 ' we'll have the other birds. The night is dark ; 
 you, and I, and the women, will take a pistol each ; 
 we'll stand outside the door, and blow the whistle ; 
 and when the gang are pressing in, we will slap at 
 them.' 
 
 The fanner acquiesced — the whistle was blown 
 loud, and the trampling of feet was soon heard, and 
 half a dozen ruffians rushed in through the open 
 door of the cottage, directed by the tire-light with- 
 in. As they passed the little party, four pistols 
 were effectively discharged at them, killing nd 
 wounding an equal number of men ; the two otheis, 
 terror struck at so unlooked for a reception, hastily 
 fled through a door that opened to the farm yard — 
 leaving their less fortunate companions behind. 
 
 The blacksmith was tried, acquitted, and honor- 
 ed with the thanks of the jurj-, for his steadiness 
 and heroism. The grateful farmer gave him more 
 substantial thanks. 
 
 A poor woman in the country went to hear a ser- 
 mon, wherein, among other practices the iniquity 
 of using dishonest weights and measures was ex- 
 posed. AVith this discourse she was much affect- 
 ed. The next day, when the minister, according 
 to his custom went among h's hearers, and called 
 upon the woman, he took occasion to ask her what 
 she remembered of his sermon. The poor woman 
 complained much of her bad memory, and said 
 she had forgotten almost every word, 'but I remem- 
 bered to burn my bushel' 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 329 
 
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 dag and the time of its adoption, is very meagre, and the 
 only data we are at present able to collect are the simple 
 facts that the yellow banner, emblazoned with the dead 
 scrpcntand the rod of Moses, was boine by thcstandard 
 bearer of Roddick O'Connor, King of Connaught when 
 that monarch had an interview with Henry the Second of 
 England; while Brian Borohme bore on his standard, at 
 Clontarf, the sun bursting through a cloud. A quartering 
 of the royal standard of England, having emblazoned on 
 it an Irish harp, is now the only recognl-^ed emblem of Ire- 
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 to you. 
 
 'An Old Man.' We have received your letter, but it is 
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 flesh or fowl.' 
 
 IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 BOSTON, SATURDAY, JULY 3, 1858 
 
 A NATION'S BIRTHDAY. 
 
 Before we shall again have an opportunity of addressing 
 our readers, the eighty-second anniversary of American in- 
 dependence — that day on which was promulgated the great 
 and tublime truth that 'all men are created free aud equal' 
 — will have been numbered with its predecessors. During 
 this brief period, the country, Irom (comparatively speak- 
 ing) a mere handful of residents has swollen into the pro- 
 portions of a gigantic and powerful nation; from thirteen 
 sparsely populated states with a few millions, the national 
 banner has emblazoned upon it thirty-two stars, and the 
 population has increased to upwards of thirty-three millions 
 — a number we are sure, far exceeding the most sanguine 
 expectations of the fathers of the republic. If the policy 
 of the founders of the republic had been of that narrow, 
 bigoted and illiberal nature of the so-called "-native Ameri- 
 cans' of the present day, we should have had a very differ- 
 ent result. 
 
 A proscriptive policy in the dutset, would have left this 
 country a fourth rate power, and as weak as the elFeminate 
 Mexican nation, which not being possessed of sufficient 
 power to chastise its enemies, seeks consolation by inflicting 
 wounds on herself. With the ideas of Ameiicaniimthen as 
 now understood, emigration — and especially Irish emigra- 
 tion—that great boon to all new and struggling countries, 
 would have been checked, and where now stand stately 
 cities, enveloped with all the blessings of civilization, there 
 would still be standing the primeval forest, through which 
 might be heard the murderous yell of the savage. But 
 wiser men, of more foresight and judgment, were at the 
 helm and who, knowing the worth aud sterling qualities of 
 such men as Carroll, Barry and Montgomery, did not see 
 tit to disdain their services because they were Irishmen, 
 and to whose deeds the success of the Revolution is in a 
 great measure attributable. In later times, the deeds of 
 the gallant Shields and the brava fellows who gave this 
 country her renown in the Mexican war, were not unac- 
 ceptable to the nation at large, because there was Celtic 
 blood in their veins; and even at the present day, should 
 there be a war. Irishmen and the sons of Irishmen, would 
 be the main stay. Of the expedition sent against the Mor- 
 mons, by far the greater portion are natives of the 'green 
 isle,' and iu the fray they will render a good account of 
 themselves aud so add another leaf to the laurel wreath of 
 their native land. 
 
 But we are pleased to think that the enlightened— the 
 cultivated and inteligent Americans— the *men who make 
 a state,' have a due consideration and appreciation of our 
 countrymen and are ready to award them the full meed of 
 approbation. It is only the ignorant and the bigoted— for 
 where there is ignorance the greatest amount of bigotry is 
 to be found— who do dot understand us or the history of 
 ourland. that treat us with jeers and frowns, and who for- 
 get, like apostates as they are, that not many generations 
 back, the same blood which animates us, coursed in the 
 veins of their ancestors. It is such as these who would 
 give the lie to the sentiment that 'all men are created tree 
 and equal,' and look upon us, exiled children of a nation 
 once more powerful than their own, as beneath the south- 
 ern elaves iu point of moral aud intellectual capacity. Let 
 us by our deeds, give a refutation to such thoughts in what 
 ever quarter they may exist. Above all, let us respect our- 
 selves, and thus be respected by others. 
 
 We trust the day is not far distant, when down-trodden 
 Ireland will once more take her place among the nations, 
 and wlien that time docs arrive, we will show to the world 
 a laud teeming with plenty, thriving with the hum of busy 
 industry, and governed by laws as perfect a» the ingenuity 
 of man can devise. 
 
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 the blowing up. The picture is now in the hands of Mr. D. 
 M. Carter of New York, an artist of eminent ability, and 
 who, we are sure, will do the subject every justice, if we 
 may judge from his famous military picture of 'covering 
 the retreat at Breed's Hill.' 
 
 The size of the picture will be seventeen inches by eleven, 
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330 
 
 IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 Wrillfu I'ortlic Miscellany. 
 A SONC. 
 
 DV DAUDY MOKBOH. 
 
 Air— 'My Dear Irish Boy.' 
 
 On B cslm siimrapr'sovcniiiR, by yon Rusliinp rountain, 
 'Vo view clmriniug nature I waniler«<l along— 
 Where briglit epurkling rilio tumble down from the moun- 
 tains 
 And the rallies re-eeho the \T»rblcr'» sour. 
 
 t;ay nature wan rolx'd in swx-et garments of glory— 
 The tiekls vales and dowers were bathed in soft dew; 
 Tlierc in sweet, plaintive tones I llrst told ray love story 
 And won tiK- fond smile of my own Callien dhu. 
 
 Like the fresh blooming rose, she is mild, pure and tender 
 As the soft ripple flows lier glossy black hair; 
 Her ucck like the snow— and her waist i.'s so slender: 
 With my peerless Mary no queen can compare. 
 
 Uer smile spreads a light so lustrous and charming, 
 Her teeth pearly white BJid lier eyes a sweet blue- 
 Like an augcl so bright is the form o( ray darling: 
 My fond lieurfs delight, my own Callien dhu. 
 
 Uer voice soft and clear, so melodious to hear, 
 Ae slie sings the sweet strains of her own native Isle; 
 Of the chiels, bards and sages to Kriu 80 dear. 
 Ere tlie Sassanah did her fair bosom delile. 
 
 Mild ami kind as the dove is my own sentlc love. 
 To the cross and t e green she is faitlifiil and true ; 
 And pure as the fountain that glides down Irom yon moun- 
 tains 
 In bri"lit silver streams, is ray own Callien dhu. 
 
 In a sad, gloomy hour, by that vile Saxon power, 
 I was (oroed to abandon my own native shore; 
 Each fond stieam of childhood, by streamlet and bower 
 And the sweet smile that cheered me from her I adora. 
 
 But strong U the fond hope encircling ray bosom, 
 
 Ucar Erin, of vengeance and freedom lor you; 
 
 When the green flag so glorious shall wave yet victorious, 
 
 O'er tlie land of my heart and my own Callien dhu. 
 
 Written for the Miscellany 
 THE FOURTH OF JULY, 
 
 BY MOSOKIA. 
 
 To-day Freedom's banner was proudly unfurled. 
 And its folds lirst embmced the bright sun's dawningray, 
 
 Andttiedeath knell of tyranny over the world 
 Was tolled, when that llagwas upliit d f r in e. 
 
 Ah! true hearts and bold had those men who had risen. 
 To sunder for ever oppression's toul chain, 
 
 And far sweeter to them was the gloom of a prison. 
 Than a home which was darkened by slavery's stain. 
 
 Tlieir fame still illumes the whole earth with its brightness, 
 ^ "e slave as he sees it looks back to the west, 
 
 deems that his clmius are endowed with more light- 
 neffi 
 And longs to be there where the sun sinks to rest. 
 
 Ah! you on whom smiles the fair goddess of freedom, 
 Rememtiernnd guard your inheritance well; 
 
 liOt her smiles those illumine who wish for and need em, 
 Till the world shall be bound with the magical spell. 
 
 Look yonder, and sec there your brother repining 
 
 Where perchance in the days of thy youth thou did'st 
 rove. 
 
 Then think that on him freedom's rays are ne'er shining — 
 That freedom whose smile you so cherish and love. 
 
 From Poland's cold clime, to that land of bright foun- 
 tajns 
 Italia, where once fyeedom's goddess had reigned ; 
 On thy plains, once proud Greece, on Cireassia's moun- 
 tains, 
 Tliatgoddess bath long been imprisoned and chained. 
 
 And westwartj a little there is a green island 
 Which sighs for the days when again to her shore. 
 
 Her sous shall return,- to their own, unto my land. 
 And bring her fair freedom to reign there once more. 
 
 Oh! that these glad eyes may see that bnght morrow! 
 
 Let me live until then— let me see how the brave 
 Shall banish trom Erin her woe and her sorrow. 
 
 And then let me sleep in my forefather's grave. 
 
 Written for the Irish Miscellany. 
 
 INK DROPS: 
 
 rnOM TltE PEN OF THE 'Qt'EEB COVE.' 
 
 No. 8. — He 'Icttcth out" on the weather, &c. 
 
 Bj'roi\ says, in Don Juan: — 
 
 'I like to be particular on dates.' 
 Unlike 'George Gordon Noel, Lord Uyron of Roch- 
 diUe,' dates arc nothing to me. Although personal- 
 ly present at my own nativity, (u nuitter, by the 
 way, in which I was nut consulted or my own feel- 
 ings taken into eonsideration) 1 cannot remember 
 the exact date thereof; and why should I, when 
 we reflect on the immature period of existence at 
 which I had arrived, when that interesting event 
 transpired! I repeat then, I know nothing (politi- 
 cally, I belong to another party) about dates, and 
 possibly I may be out of my reckoning, if I set 
 the present season down as that portion of the 
 year, known by canine fanciers as the 'dog days.' 
 I fancy that 
 
 'The dog star rages,' 
 for like that monarch of blessed memoi-y (God 
 save the mark!) James the 7th of Scotland or the 
 1st of England, which ever you may choose to have 
 it, and other kinds of animals, my tongue is inces- 
 santly lolling out of my mouth, no doubt occasion- 
 ed by the heat of the weather, or perhaps with a 
 longing desire for 'juleps,' 'cobblers,' cold punch,' 
 (Jlr. Pickwick's favorite 'tipple') or any other of 
 those delectable compounds which are well iced, 
 and sent down to us no doubt by OUmpian Jove 
 himself, for the express purpose of keeping us poor 
 mortals cool during this unbearable weather. I 
 can even now cry out with Shelley, to the celestial 
 cup-bearer. 
 
 Tour iorth heaven's wine, Idean Ganymede,' 
 for, as one of that race whose only glory is, that 
 of being born within sound of Bow bells, would 
 observe, 'I ham werry 'ot.' 
 
 liut it is not the heat alone which annoys me; it 
 is the transition from rain to shine — this incessant 
 attempt at atmospher'cal tears and smiles — nature, 
 with all the years she has on her head, vainly at- 
 tempting to imitate some love-siek girl, who, de- 
 lighted, and enveloped in smiles and her 'best bib 
 and tucker' while her inamorita is present, imme- 
 diately on his departure, pumps up, (for no one 
 more thoroughly understands the system of hy- 
 draulics than a woman) a few 'liquid pearls,' as 
 one of the old poets of the Hen'ick and Cowley 
 school has it, which being exhausted, she 'dries up' 
 and — and — well, flirts with the next 'galliant so 
 brave,' who chances for the moment to please her 
 fancy. Of a surety, women, young ones, especial- 
 ly, are as Pope says of children — 
 
 'Pleased with a rattle, tickled with a straw ' 
 
 Shakespeare tells about 
 
 'The uncertain glory of an April day.' 
 
 There is no doubt but since the time of that per- 
 sonage, the seasons have 'slightually' undergone a 
 change. They have been, like the crysalis, in a 
 transition state. The 'leafy month,' as June has 
 been termed, appears to have taken a retrogade step, 
 to have partially lost its individuality, and in a de- 
 gree, partakes, at present, more of the nature of 
 the hydropathic month of April. If the 'rain, 
 raineth every day," as we are told, I feel confident, 
 although nothing of an agriculturalist, that the 
 green com, (a most delicio'as esculent, Mr. Editor, 
 to which I am excessively partial, and which has a 
 sttinning eflect on one's comrais.'ariat department, 
 when judiciously boiled, buttered and peppered,) 
 will have, as whilome, in the 'merrie days' of 
 Oberon and Titania, 
 
 'Botted, ere his youth attained a beard,' 
 and thus deprive me of one of the enjoyments of 
 life. My savage friend, 'The Old Dog' is also la- 
 boring under this apprehension, and says in 'mourn- 
 
 ful numbers' 'Kain all time Old Dog and squaw 
 have no com, go we live on fire water", while the 
 Mustang Colt makes rejoinder, 'Com be d — , me 
 live all the time on fire water and homeopathic 
 pills!' What a .style of diet must that be. 
 
 Having thus paid my respects to the weather, 
 allow me to do likewi.se by you, Mr. Editor, for, I 
 now intend to seek apartments in an ice house, with 
 the hope that I will be able, as the Oak Uall adver- 
 tisements say, to 'keep cool.' 
 
 Writteu for the Miscellany. 
 NOTES FROM A JOURNAL. 
 
 BY 3. E. F. 
 
 No. 3 — A Day on the Lakes of Killamcy. 
 
 We provided ourselves to-day with a basket con- 
 taining a cold dinner, and a bottle of the 'crathur' 
 for the rowers, and at 8 A.M. our boat was shoved 
 out from beneath the ivy-mantled and frowning 
 ruins of Koss Castle. We were no sooner out 
 than our boatmen commenced their stories of 
 O'Donoghue, who is seen they say, every seven 
 years, riding over the lakes on a milk-white steed, 
 and those who have courage to follow him can walk 
 on the lakes dry shod and be rewarded by him 
 with 'lashings of goold." Among the many objects 
 shown us, "was his pigeon house, a natural rock, 
 with innumerable holes in it; then the pulpit from 
 which he used to address his followers; but the 
 most remarkable of all was his library, a number 
 of stones which really have the appearance of books 
 strewn around in confusioir, and one of the largest 
 was pointed out to us as his Dictionary, with the 
 remark that there was 'a dale of hard words in 
 it.' 
 
 We landed at the Isle of Innisfallcn, where we 
 visited the ruins of an abbey founded twelve centu- 
 ries ago, and of which but a small portion remains. 
 There are some magnificent ash and holly trees here, 
 one of the latter being twelve feet round. The 
 island is clothed with the richest and greenest veg- 
 etation and is certainly an island paradise. Moore's 
 oft-quoted lines on Innesfallen are beautiful, but 
 he, even, cannot find words to describe its pictur- 
 esque scenery: — 
 
 'Sweet Innisfallen, fare-thee-well. 
 
 May calm and sunshine long be thine; 
 How fair thou art let others tell, 
 While but to feel how fair be mine.' 
 
 Leaving here, we soon entered Muckross or the 
 Middle Lake, with its solitary Devil's Island. The 
 island is said to be the piece Satan took out of the 
 mountain near here; and it is said to be a fact, (the 
 truth of which I do not vouch for) that it will ex- 
 actly fiU up the gap in the mountain. This is ra- 
 ther hard to swallow — the island, I mean, not the 
 story. The Devil's Punchbowl is seen to good ad- 
 vantage from here. 
 
 Arriving at the Old Weir Bridge, we disembark- 
 ed, as it is hard to pull the boat against the swift 
 current, and is attended with danger. Some one 
 who probably tried it, writes: — 
 
 'Trust not the Old Weir for the river is deep. 
 
 The stream is rapid, the rocks they are steep; 
 
 The sky though unclouded, the landscape thoughfair; 
 
 Trust not to the curreut, for death may be there ' 
 
 After rowing some time past the 'meeting of the 
 waters," we got opposite the 'Eagle's Nest,' the 
 height of which is 1100 feet, and in which eagles 
 have built their nests for centuries, two of whom 
 we had the good fortune of seeing. It is almost 
 inaccessible; but there is a story told, by Mrs. Hall 
 I believe, of a soldier who at one time attempted to 
 rob the eyrie. He watched until the old eagles de- 
 parted, and was then let down by a rope from the 
 top. While thus engaged, one of the old birds re- 
 turned and spying Mr. Redcoat, immediately at- 
 tacked him. The soldier begged for mercy, and it 
 seems from the story that the Killarney eagles can 
 talk, for the eagle is said to have asked the soldier 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 331 
 
 ^\^lat he wanted?' He replied by saying that 'he 
 was cui-ious to see what was in the nest.' 
 liagle — "I don't believe it.' 
 Soldier — 'Honor bright, that's all." 
 To settle the dispute, it was agreed to leave it to 
 the deci.-iion of O'Donoghue, whose spirit would 
 answer from the opposite mountain. 
 Accordingly, the eagle bawled out, 
 'Did he come to rob the eagle's nest?" taking eare 
 to speak the first three words in a lower key than 
 the last. 
 
 The spirit answered, or rather the echo, 'To rob 
 the eagle's nest.' 
 
 So the eagle hurled the soldier to the bottonx of 
 the waters of the Long Range. 
 
 The echoes here are indeed beautiful, and being 
 provided with a bugle, one of our boatmen sounded 
 it, the effect of which was wonderful. 'The soli- 
 tary note rebounds from hill to hill, from cliff to 
 crag; now soft, now loud, sometimes in rapid suc- 
 cession, at other times pausing, as if for an answer, 
 until it finally dies away in soft, faint whispers. 
 Again the bugle is sounded — this time in a succes- 
 sion of rapid notes — and instantly the mountains 
 seem alive with harmony; far and near, around, on 
 every side, note follows note in soft, wild confu- 
 sion; some reverberating loudly, others mellowed 
 by distance, and the whole producing an effect 
 which words cannot describe.' 
 
 The echo of 'Paddy Blake and his scolding wife,' 
 is an amusing one, and it is said, if you ask Paddy, 
 'How are your' he says 'Very well, I thank you.' 
 
 I think this is rather a stretch of the imagination; 
 but one thing is certain: if you say to Paddy, 'You 
 lie!' he gives you the lie back; his wife then echoes 
 him, and we were rowed off with 'You lie,' still 
 ringing in our ears. 
 
 In the Upper Lake, stories were again told us of 
 O'Donoghue, and of the famous jump he took, 60 
 feet, and the prints of his brogues are seen on the 
 rock he leaped upon. On one of the islands here, 
 goats' milk is sold by women from. the mountains, 
 mLxed with a 'little of the stuff that never saw a 
 guager.' 
 
 There are yet some wild red deer among the 
 mountains and we saw one of them grazing on the 
 top of the Tore mountain. The bugle was again 
 sounded, and he bounded out of sight in a moment. 
 Landing at Dines island, we dined off fresh trout 
 caught m the lakes, roasted on arbutus slicks, and 
 make a capital dinner. AVhile here, a man came 
 up and wanted us to buy some arbutus canes, 
 which grow on the borders of the lakes, at the 
 same time remarking that when Abbott Lawrence, 
 the American Minister was here, he bought six 
 sticks from him. 
 
 It now commenced to rain, so we were obliged to 
 get back as quick as possible, leaving, I suppose, 
 more than half unseen. The swilt strokes of the 
 oarsmen as they approached Ross Castle, started 
 out some ten or a dozen swans, who, with necks 
 proudly arched, glided off in the direction of Innis- 
 fallen. Thus ended our day on the Lakes. 
 
 From the Dublin Celtic Union. 
 
 AN INCIDENT IN THE LIFE OF AN IRISH 
 ARTIST. 
 
 BY CAROLAN. 
 
 Seafaring folk speak of vessels on the ocean, tum- 
 bling, and tossing, and heaving about most tumultu- 
 ously, buffetted by boisterous winds, and hoisted 
 into the high skies, by pitch-and-toss loving billows, 
 who, having amused themselves thus, to their hearts' 
 content, fling their unfortunate play-things on the 
 floor of the great sea, as a tired cat would a worried 
 mouse, to eke out the minute portion of resist.ince 
 still lingering about it, as well as the poor torment- 
 ed victim is able. The result of all this merciless 
 chastisement usually is, that the exhausted bark 
 
 drifts about for a short time, swilling water into its 
 thirsty fevered carcase, at every opening pore, until 
 at length, it rights itself with a last eHbrt; settles — 
 stands fairly upright, with the weight of death at 
 its choked heart, and then sinks plump downwards 
 into the terrible abyss of the insatiate main. I had 
 just arrived at the tossed aside, and not fit for any- 
 thing stage of the forgoing nautical description, and 
 was gloomily sitting in my solitary .studio, nearly 
 settled and ready to sink ; for, it was two months 
 ago since I painted my last portrait. It was on a 
 sunny morning, too. and a Monday morning I well 
 remember, because my landlady's lodging bill duly 
 advised me thereof, and I likewise remember that I 
 was lavishing a lot of free touches on a portrait of 
 myself which lay languidly leaning back upon my 
 easel ; and that I wore a severe, sarcastic, cynical 
 smile upon my lips, as I thus contributed gratuitous- 
 ly to the wealth of a base world : ' ay, ay,' I thought 
 bitterly ; ' I have decorated the walls of the rich 
 and of the mighty with specimens of art, which call- 
 ed forth the admiration of thousands, and gained 
 for me a place and a name amongst men whom their 
 country is bound to honor and to remember, but 
 what of that ? this shadow of me on this square bit 
 of canvas will soon be the only memento of him 
 whom fortune first fondled, and then deserted for- 
 ever ' (here I broadened the temple of my portrait 
 some two or three lines more, and concentrated the 
 shading that gave depth to the full eye.) This last 
 improvement was effected with an air of severity 
 intended to add more and more poignancy to the 
 late repentance of sorrowing mankind. Gentle 
 reader, you may be assured that it is only a desper- 
 ate state of inanity, or the other e.xtreme of unwont- 
 ed felicity, that ever induces an artist, particularly 
 a young artist, to lay hands upon himself (I mean, 
 to paint his own portrait ! — no more,) and again, 
 you may be equally satisfied, that when he betake; 
 himself to eulogistic soliloquy that there is some 
 thing monstrously wrong in the state of his financei 
 as well as his fame ; so that, in this confession of 
 myself and my mental communings, I trust I M'ill 
 stand exonerated of the charge of egotism, and only 
 be held guilty of the fact of ' need.' 
 
 The wliole summary of the stiite of my affairs, was, 
 tha* I found myself in what is poetically termed a 'fix,' 
 and not likely to be a 'fixture' in my present locality, 
 unless dame Fortune altered her tune to some more 
 grateful melody than her present 'slow march.' In 
 the meantime I had to live— and what was to be done? 
 ay, that was the rub! At this juncture, and in the 
 midst of this cri'ical press of emergencies, I heard a 
 measured tiead leisurely mounting the staircase; 'twHS 
 ray landlady's, perhaps, or some snper-resolved, cold- 
 blooded creditor, calmly resolute in his fi.xcd and firm 
 determination to make this his last peaceable visit; it 
 couldn't be a client could it? 
 
 I attitudinised artistically before my easel, and the 
 step marched into my chamber. 
 
 'Mr. O'Carroll," said a (juiet voice, enquiringly. I 
 turned around with an air altogether dramntic, and 
 recognised an old gentleman, with whom I had had 
 some slight acquaintance, professionally. He held a 
 letter in his hand, and received my salute and recogni- 
 tion with the greatest suavity. 
 
 'I am come on rather a singular mission to yon, Mr. 
 O'Carroll,' said he, slightly referring to the document 
 in his hand; 'and yet it is in the way of your profes- 
 
 ' A friend of mine writes to me from the country, 
 to say that he has had the misfortune to lose a dear- 
 ly beloved brother, whose death has grieved him 
 sorely, and of whom he ardently desires to have 
 some memorial. He wishes to have a cast of his 
 face taken, and urges me to send to him at once an 
 artist, such as I can confidently recommend, and 
 that money will be no object.' 
 
 The last sentence tickled me hugely, and I instant- 
 
 down the dear fellow's distinguished name, and 
 ever-to-be honored locality. 
 
 'Not so fast, my dear sir,' said ray kind patron, 
 smilingly ; ■ there is something else to be said upon 
 the matter — you must knovif that the deceased has 
 been interred a full week.' 
 
 ' A week !' I unconsciously ejaculated. 
 ' Yes,' he replied, ' but the weather is not at all 
 warm, and there may not De as yet any decomposi- 
 tion,' 
 
 My face reddened .and my heart sunk, and I ar- 
 dently wished that the old gentleman had never 
 done me the honor of coming to tantalise me. My 
 patron seeing my temporary hesitation, rightly di- 
 vined that the design was repugnant to my feel- 
 ings ; so, politely intimating to me that he would 
 leave me to consider on the matter, until next morn- 
 ing, and then wait upon me ag.iin, bowed and de- 
 parted. ' Dead and buried a fuU week,' I exclaimed 
 aloud, as I heaid the last beat of the retreatiilg steps 
 sound in the hall, as the door slammed to. 'Money 
 no object,' was the next consideration; I took up 
 my hat and went out into the open air to think upon 
 what was best to be done. 
 
 The landlady coughed as I passed out, as much as 
 to say, ' I am here, sir, if you're coming to pay the 
 rent,' — but I hurried away to have a marvel over 
 my strange engagement with some of my profession- 
 al brethren in the city. That night, I supped on a 
 grilled bone with a friend, and after vainly endeav- 
 oring during the whole evening to be most jocose on 
 my adventure of the morning, returned mournfully 
 homeward, about eleven o'clock, still quite unde- 
 termined whether or not, to accept of the horrid 
 proposition. However, a pressing note fiom Snip 
 the tador in Anglesea street duly deposited in my 
 chamber candlestick, and a surly enquiry of the ser- 
 vant, from my landlady, as to whom it could possi- 
 bly be who was coming into her house at that un- 
 seasonable hour of the night, at once convinced me 
 of the absolute and inevitable necessity of throwing 
 all scruples to the dogs, or of being thrown into a 
 much more unpleasant domicile than I, at that mo- 
 ment, so very dubiously occupied. And so I went 
 to bed, and dreampt all night long of grilled bones 
 and cross bones, and death's heads, and tailors' bills, 
 and a variety of minute statistics immediately con- 
 nected with lodging-house warfare. 
 
 The next morning my amiable patron came, true to 
 his appointment, and found me not only placable and 
 compliant, but most eager and anxious to enter upon 
 all preliminaries, and to set off to ihe work without 
 any delay. A cheque for ten pounds to pay ray trav- 
 eling and other expenses opened the ball— this was 
 followed up by an introdnetory letter to a police eon- 
 stahle in the south of Ireland, who once acted under 
 the command of the deceased officer, upon whose 
 countenance I was now about to officiate, and who 
 was to see the body exhumed, and to afford me every 
 facility and assistance in the carrying out of my very 
 
 novel project. 
 
 A handsome sum was then agreed upon, as a re- 
 muneration for my services upon the completion of 
 my undertaking. 
 
 That morning, my landlady, with the character- 
 istic keenness of all her tribe, sent up an apology for 
 her mistake of the last night, with an assurance tha*t 
 she had been dreaming, and was always in the habit 
 of speaking in her sleep, since the death of her poor 
 dear husband, who always, poor man, kept late 
 hours, and was vei-y aggravating to her nervous 
 temperament, to which was added a douceur of two 
 real fresh eggs brought that morningfromthe coun- 
 try, and which she hoped would strengthen me on 
 my journey. 
 
 Poor soul! she had been hstening in a little side 
 room or closet, to all our conversation; and tacked her 
 sails accordingly, with the adroitness of a veteran, 
 well versed in all the variations of the raising of the 
 
 ly took out mypoeket-book. most reHgiously to take I tjlet^ I^T^I^II.^ V7oZ:::::i 
 
332 
 
 IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 80 indocj that she affcctcil to weep nt my good nature , 
 as she liuiukil mo the receipt in full duo to her, for oc- 
 cupatioti of hcrfurnisliid apartments, up to and ending 
 that 24ih day of October, 1832. Snip, loo, exhiliitcd 
 to mo several fushioiialde patterns that self same morn- 
 ing, which he had originally deposited in his pocket 
 for a very difterent person, and a very ditferent pur- 
 pose, but which, from some hints he got below stairs, 
 when ho came in armed with a certain legal document 
 of a biting nature, he at once converted into a medi- 
 cine more consonant with my altered fortunes. 
 
 I paid Mr. Snip, however, and ordere<l him off the 
 premises too, in a voice sufficiently ferocious all folk 
 within hearing (as all were, and over were,) with the 
 romantic fact, that I was accustomed to competency, 
 and was not to bo trilled with on any account whatso- 
 ever lierci\fler. 
 
 Uaving settled these little domestic preliminaries, 
 and re-established my very weakened prerogative, I 
 began to think that I had forty long Irish miles to 
 travel before night, and that I should set forward v, ith 
 as much despatch as possible. So, supplying myself 
 with plaister of Paris for my cast, and some other in- 
 dispensable necessities for the use of the inner man of 
 my own individuality, I took the coach in Dawson 
 street, and forthwith set oft' on ray travels. 
 
 It was lato in the evening when wo trundled into the 
 little town of C , then in the zcnilh of its prosper- 
 ity, and I lost not a moment in seeking the police Ser- 
 jeant, to whom my introductory billet was addressed, 
 But at the very first police office in the town where I 
 sought information of this very important personage, I 
 was told that the man 1 wanted, and the station in 
 which he was to be found, were full three miles away 
 
 from C . 
 
 I was now obliged to hire a car at the coach hotel, 
 and putting upon it my little box of plaister, weighed 
 anchor once more for tho redoubtable village of Land- 
 duff. 
 
 After nearly an hour's drive over a most execrable 
 road, during which time my teeth and limbs wore kept 
 in a perpetual clatter. I was at length set down, and 
 at the very door of the mach desiderated police sta- 
 tion. 
 
 The worthy scrjeant received me most courteously, 
 and afcer a most harmonious apology, leant on his 
 desk of office, and proceeded to peruse the contents of 
 my famous sesame billet. An air of astonishment 
 which went off in a little safety-valve of the gentlest of 
 all gentle minute whistles, oxjiressed the utter amaze- 
 ment of the reader, as, lowering the letter a little, he 
 took a full eye-gaze at me over the margin of the pa- 
 per. 
 
 I was smoking a cigar, and was quite collected. 
 'Sir,' enquired the scrjeant, with a most meaning 
 smile, ' I believe you arc exactly aware of the length 
 of time this deceased gentleman is buried.' 'A week 
 or so,' I remarked, quite carelessly. 'Nearly two of 
 them,' he retorted, almost triumphantly; 'twelve days 
 at least, to a certainty.' The cigar drojiped from my 
 lips at this most shocking announcement, and my evi- 
 dent confusion made the scrjeant my fast friend, for he 
 piqued himself not a little on being able to disconcert 
 any antagonist, civil or military, and my apparent 
 coolness had put him upon his mettle. 'No matter, 
 Mr. O' Carroll," he continued brusquely, 'I'U turn out 
 the men at six in the morning, and after we exhume 
 the body, we will then be the better judges; in the 
 meantime, I will show you the way to our little inn, 
 where you can have some refreshment and a comforta- 
 ble bed.' I was not in much humor to make any ob- 
 servations verbal or oecular, as I accompanied the Ser- 
 jeant down the narrow and only street of this seques- 
 tered locality, but moved as mechanically forward as 
 if I were in custody for something serious. This very 
 moroseness advanced me more and more in the graces 
 of my self-satisfied guide, who was, in truth, a worthy 
 soul and a jovial one to boot, as he abundantly proved 
 by partaking of a right substantial supper, before we 
 parted .'or the night — smoking more than one half of 
 my stock of cigars, two at a time, out of sheer wag- 
 gishness, and punishing much more than a moderate 
 
 modicum of pottcen punch, supplied with an air of the 
 utmost secrecy, bnt sabsequenily charged for, in tho 
 most open and bandit-liko fashion imaginable, I was 
 aroused from my sound slumber at daybreak next 
 morning, and awoke to a horrible consciousness of a 
 splitting headache, and a vile taste of roasted tobacco 
 leaf upon my tongue — however, there was nothing for 
 it, but to be up and stirring, and up 1 sprang acrard- 
 ingly, and huddling on my clothes, found my friend 
 the Serjeant, and si.x of his men fully accoutred with 
 shovels aud mattocks awaiting my arrival. 
 
 It was a sad and melancholy looking moniing, as 
 we wended our gloomy way through the deserted vil- 
 lage street, and turned into a miry bohrecn leading to 
 tho solitary graveyard. Tiio wind blew coldly and 
 bitterly, and a light, drifting spraycy rain pained our 
 cold features as wo pushed along. The shriveled up 
 leaves of autumn showered down upon us from the al- 
 most naked trees as we stepped into the open dormi- 
 tory of the dead; and a horrid feeling took possession 
 of me, as I withdrew my hand from the wet, slippery 
 stones that formed the slenderly built stile that af- 
 forded us its narrow mode of ingress. I will not for- 
 get the churchyard, of Landcluff in a hurry — neither 
 will I over cease to remember my artistic performan- 
 ces within its melancholy precincts. It is dearly be- 
 fore my mind's eye, as my pen runs along the paper; 
 its lank grass and its nettles — its shattered tombstones 
 and its crowded graves, and the loose green-stained 
 stone wall or rather fence, that let tho damp winds 
 rumble through it. I wished from my soul I had 
 never come to Landcluff. 
 
 In tlie very midst of this most impressive desolation, 
 was the last resting place of the body which I was 
 about to disturb. The men dug away gallantly, 
 whilst the Serjeant superintended the operations with a 
 quiet, satisfied sort of air, partly produced by my dis- 
 astrous looking appearance. I put down my little box 
 of plastcrof-Paris, however, and essayed to enter into 
 an intermittent kind of colloquy, pending the lilting 
 up of the cofBn from its gloomy abode. Thump — 
 thnmp — thump went the sturdy strokes of the strenu- 
 ous workmen. Oil! such sad and melancholy sounds 
 as they were over that bleak little cell of death, and in 
 the wild, grey light that struggled from the murky 
 firmament. Uow awfully the long puddly ropes 
 dragged their tortuous lengths along the sounding 
 boards, as the cofiin grated against the sides of the 
 opened grave; and the men labored on without ever 
 once raising their voices beyond the earnest tones of 
 queries and directions. 
 
 The morning light broke steadily down upon us, 
 and the coffin was safely deposited upon terra firma. 
 Two of the men proceeded to loosen the screws, which 
 operation they performed with very visible repugnance 
 — the remaining number of the party, at the same 
 time, shifting oft' sllngingly away, and affecting to be 
 very busy in examining into the condition of the many 
 mouldering grave-stones; or deeply .inquisitive into 
 the arcana of the half obliterated inscriptions — or en- 
 tering into most excitable conversations about the 
 weather, and the state of pending politics of the cour- 
 try; even my friend, the imperturbable serjean',was evi- 
 detly ill at ease. As to myself, I was in possession of 
 about thirty-three pints of crimsoning blood, nearly 
 up to tho temperature (according to my own exagger- 
 ated imprescions) of 212 Fahrenheit. Tho last screw 
 was removed, and the men instantly removed them- 
 selves, leaving tho theatre of future action fully open 
 to my own individual performances. There was noth- 
 ing for it but to dash, in medias res, or to retreat. I 
 raised up the lid, at tlic feet of the corpse, hurriedly 
 and abruptly, and a wild gust of wind which came 
 sweeping along from the distant mountains, joined in 
 my precipitancy ; for it blew tho loose shroud totally 
 away from the naked limbs of the deceased. The 
 flesh looked sound — I put the joint of my finger upon 
 it — it was firm. I began to breathe more freely. The 
 Serjeant, very obtrusively, (I thought) removed the lid 
 altogether from the coffin — and the wide white wind- 
 ing-sheet flapped about most dismally, in the gradual- 
 ly increasing gale. The face was stark, fixed and 
 
 sunken, like stained marble ; and the flesh was by no 
 means as firm as that on the limbs, but it was whole 
 and unbroken, and likely to remain so, with the ex- 
 ception of a certain space aboat the nose, which wore 
 a pur]ilish decomposing tinge. No mutter — it was 
 much better altogether than I could possibly have ex- 
 pected ; and I actually began to pluck np courage, and 
 to bo resolved to set to work in right down-earnest ; 
 so, tossing oft' ray coat, with a bearing so assured as 
 to make the worthy seijeant look somewhat discon- 
 certed, I forthwith proceeded to mix uji tho P.irlsian 
 paste, and incontinently to smear it, with all due pre. 
 cautions, over the pallid countenance of tho dead. At 
 this juncture, the truant policemen began to return, 
 and I could observe a stray head or two, cased in gold- 
 en straw hats, peeping furtively over the distant walls. 
 Tho ample white shroud still flapped away in the 
 wind, as I daubed over the snowy cement with a hur- 
 rying hand, and kept haloing out my breath to avoid 
 inhaling the cadaverous odor that constantly impreg- 
 nated the gusty winds. At last, the jiroccss was com . 
 pleted, and right glad was I to come to a finale ; for 
 between the ghastly look of the dead, the feel of the 
 soft clay beneath my feet, and the dismantled, unnat- 
 ural appearance of the alderod, and nettled, and grassy 
 and moss-slobbcrcd gi'aveyard, I was rapidly becoming 
 heart-sick, and could not have held out much longer. 
 It was now time to withdi-aw for about an hour to let 
 the plaister ' set ;' so, I resumed my garment, and ac- 
 companied by my noncoramissioned fi'lend, proceeded 
 to the village, and to breakfast, ' with what appetite I 
 eould.'. 
 
 The drizzling mist has now passed entirely away, 
 and the bright sunlight, over the eastern barriers of 
 Landuff, arose majestically in the heavens — the clouds 
 set their big broad sails, and broke oft' from the centre 
 of the vast concave, leaving a deliciously blue field of 
 ether in the midst, as the dark dampen tresses rolled 
 scumbllngly backward, revealing the placid features of 
 the ever peaceful sky. Full of the fond anticiptt ons 
 of being able very soon to bring my untoward under- 
 taking to a happy issue, and gastronomically comfort- 
 ed, too, by a copious breakfast, garnished with spicy 
 provocatives, to bring my collapsing nerves to some- 
 thing of their forenight's level, I sot out again, and 
 almost hilariously, to the scene of action. Numerous 
 heads bivouacked in numerous brazen-looking hats, 
 were now planted chin deep, in various portions of the 
 griiveyard wall, the most prominent features upon tho 
 front of which were the eyes and the mouths, both be- 
 ing intensely open. The coffin lay uncovered still up- 
 on the grass, but the shroud now clung closely to the 
 dead, defining the outline of the body, and rendering 
 it doubly conspicuous in the refracted light of the 
 arisen sun. I was afterwards told that many of the 
 poor peasimtry — cajoled, no doubt, by my friend, the 
 Serjeant — imagined I was about to restore life to all 
 the occupants of the graves ; and one poor fellow who 
 had but lately succeeded in interring a most formida- 
 ble virago of a wife, was greatly concerned at my un- 
 conscionable and unfeeling interposition. With a most 
 confident air, I removed the white coverlid from tho 
 bust of the deceased, and directing one of the police 
 to place his hand firmly on the top of the head, essay- 
 ed to raise off the plaister — bnt what was my chagrin 
 and utter vexation to find that it had not 'set,' that it 
 had not hardened at all — that the composition was ex- 
 ncrable — and that all my hideous labor had gone for 
 nothing ! 
 
 In this horrid emergency, the good-natured seijeant 
 came to my relief — 
 
 'Never mind, Mr. O'Carrol,' said he, 'the morning 
 has been damp and wet — let it alone for a few hours 
 more, under the heat of tho mid-day sun, and all will 
 be right.' 
 
 I felt that it was a bad business, worse indeed than 
 I wished to dwell upon, so I stood up, after carefully 
 adjusting the shroud, and walked away with my kind 
 sympathiser. As we passed along, my wandering eye, 
 vacantly uninterested, caught a glimpse of a large 
 stone cross, of a most antique shape, which oceupiel 
 the verj- centre of the Uttle cemetery — it was a diver- 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 sion to my troulik'd thoughts, and I wished, too, to 
 shnke oil' the scrjeant for awhile, until I could collect 
 my scattered senses, and think what was to he done, if 
 my journey and its ohjcct should turn out a miserable 
 failure. Calling his attention, theicfore, to the ohjcct 
 of my feigned attraction, I took out my sketch-book, 
 and begged ho would leave me to myself for a time, 
 and that I should join him again at the barracks, as 
 soon as I had finished. To this ho very cheerfully 
 assented, and I sat down before tEe huge stone cross, 
 and began to draw up in my mind a brief summary of 
 my undertaking ; its ill luck — its consequences — and 
 the absolute necessity of changing my lodgings in 
 Dublin. In this reverie of revolving communings, my 
 eyes were fixed on the object before which I sat, and I 
 gradually began to become more and more conscious 
 of its presence and its propinquity — and at last, I riv- 
 etted my gaze upon it closely — when my admiration 
 of it as a piece of art, set everything else to flight out 
 of my head for the time being. 
 
 It was one of those purely Celtic remains of art, 
 only to be found in Ireland, characterised as well by 
 the quaintness of its formation, as the beauiiful artistic 
 designs which everywhere were traced over its whole 
 surface. It was strange as well as most interesting, to 
 imagine the appearance and costume of the wild arti- 
 ficer who hewed out this huge stone from its parent 
 block — the rude heart that bad conceived its present 
 construction — the bright, proud freeman's eye that so 
 long had scanned its every minute proportion — and 
 the bron-n, brave hand, that, with most imperfect in- 
 struments, had given a convincing record to coming 
 ages, that both faith and art had dwelt as twin spirits, 
 so very, very long ago in blessed Ogygia of the Saints. 
 "What added too, most graphically, to the effect which 
 this fine pure old relic of antiquity produced upon my 
 mind, was a group of peasants — if I may so term two 
 females — the one, old and infirm ; the other, young 
 and interesting, who formed the foreground to that 
 blessed emblem of Christianity. 
 
 The young woman was kneeling on the earth, her 
 two arms and her head leaning heavily down upon a 
 sunken, greyish, letterless stone, which I suppose 
 marked the last resting place of some poor mortal 
 once dearly and tenderly beloved ; her dishevelled hair, 
 long, loose, and raveny black, hung down in one dark 
 screen over the back of the cold stone, and the heaving 
 shoulders alone, which were in almost constant agita- 
 tion, betokened the intensity of the too real grief that 
 disturbed her fresh young heart. 
 
 The old woman looked moarnfully on — tearless, 
 moveless, silent, her features wasted, blank and vacant, 
 as if the storm of sorrow had long passed over that 
 human space, leaving all its once living sensibilities 
 scathed and destroyed, and incapable of all farther im- 
 pressions either of sunshine or of shadow. 
 
 It was a picture of intense desolation. I forgot my 
 own mean disappointments, in the immensity of their 
 evident afflictions, and proceeded with my sketch with 
 a beating heart and a choking sympathy, and long be 
 fore I had finished it, the love of art had so much 
 mastered all my anticipations of my mundane exigen- 
 cies, that I absolutely cared little or nothing either for 
 the issue of my LanclufF expedition, or the utmost 
 malice of my lean landlady in Mountpleasant-avenue, 
 of the metropolis. Sick at heart, and much and deep- 
 ly depressed in mind and body, I at last put by my 
 sketch-book, and giving one more sympathising gaze 
 npon the heart-broken mourners of this solitary corner 
 of the old countiT, I sauntered away from the scene of 
 graves, into the gabbling little village, determined not 
 to revisit my work of confusion again until I had for- 
 tified myself with as much dinner as I could bolt, des- 
 pite of all desire, and only in compliance with the 
 ukase of goodly dame Nature, who has so long ago 
 announced her unqualified detestation of that untoward 
 interruption of her machinery called 'a vacuum.' 
 
 The Serjeant was my guest, and we dined at the vil- 
 lage inn, as afore mentioned, and upon dishes of that 
 distinguished individual's own particular choosing and 
 ■which had nigh been my death — viz : roast goose, hog's 
 puddings, and potato-loaves, together with a flanking 
 
 plate of salTron-colored fat pork — a surfeit even in 
 t bought. I know I ate some of the goose, for I taste 
 it still upon my palate in all its rich rankncss; and my 
 imagination will never permit mo to forget, that I 
 really and actually saw every one of the viands already 
 enumerated — indicative, as each of them severally was, 
 if tolerated upon the floor of an insensible stomach, of 
 after-visitations of violent dyspepsia, of hideous night- 
 mare, or even of mania aggravata. But the Serjeant 
 met the enemy at the point of the fork, and if not a 
 conqueror in the main, at least discomfitted the whole 
 force, beyond even a chance of reorganization. But 
 there was no blinking the great and odious work of the 
 day. We returned once more to the graveyard, and, 
 as I had anticipated, found the plaister of Paris as dis- 
 inclined as ever to leave its adhesive position upon the 
 face of the dead. 
 
 The good Serjeant now again interposed, strongly 
 advising me to let the matter rest until morning — pro- 
 posing to remove the coffin into the porch of an old 
 ruined church which was in oar immediate neighbor- 
 hood, and to leave a couple of his men to guard it from 
 spoliation until the morrow. 
 
 To this, I at once assented; indeed I was ready, and 
 with an amazing amount of alacrity, to agree to any 
 suggestion, even if it had been that of my most im- 
 placable enemy. Accordingly, it was so arranged to 
 the satisfaction of all parties except the men intended 
 for the night watch; but those good souls, I afterwards 
 found out, when nightfall came on, unhesitatingly de- 
 serted their charge, after having bracfd up the coffin 
 well with sturdy ropes, to guard against the inroads of 
 prowling dogs or vermin. 
 
 That whole night I tossed about uneasily upon my 
 restless couch, at one time endeavoring to persuade 
 myself that I cared not a curse for the issue of my 
 undertaking, one way or the other; another, that it 
 would mayhap serve as food for laughter and merri- 
 ment for me hereafter; and I recollect having some- 
 thing like a private intention of trying a tramp, like 
 Oliver Goldsmith, as citizen of the world; and instead 
 of eoquettiifg with destitution, to plunge manfully into 
 its vortex, and become a peripatetic philosopher. But 
 in the midst of my many and intermittent cogitations, 
 I fell bodily and mentally off down right into the arms 
 of Morpheus. I then began to dream away like mad; 
 and I dreamt, again, a scene which I and a brother 
 artist actually enacted about a twelvemonth before, in 
 a small town in the S. E. of Ireland, not more than 
 an hour's railway panting from my native city. 
 rConclusion next week.] 
 
 Deaths of Eminent Persons. — Edward VI. 
 died of inflammation of the lungs after measles. 
 
 Queen Mary was always of weak and unpromising 
 health, for which frequent bleedings and exercise on 
 horseback were prescribed. Aloes and chalybeates 
 would probably have been preferable. She died of 
 dropsy, a disease easily brought on in sieklv constitu- 
 tions by repeated venesection. 
 
 Dr. Bate, one of the physicians of Oliver Cromwell, 
 has given an account of his last sickness in the work 
 entitled 'Elenchus Motuum Nuperorum in Anglia.' 
 The Protector, encouraged by the assurances of his 
 chaplains, imagined to the last that he should recover, 
 and, with this expectation, consented to be removed 
 from Hampton Court to London. On examination, 
 there was increased vascularity of the brain and slight 
 inflammation of the lungs, but the spleen was a mass 
 of disease, and filled with matter Uke the lees of oil. 
 
 There is a report of the last illness of Charles II., 
 drawn up by his first physician. Sir Charles Scarbor- 
 ough, deposited in the library of the Antiquarian So- 
 ciety. The fatal disease was a fit of apoplexy, under 
 which he lingered for four days with the insensibility 
 which forms a part of the malady. This will account 
 for his making no answer to the religious exhortations 
 addressed to him; a fact which seems to have surprised 
 Bishop Burnet, who attributes it to anything bnt the 
 plain, obvious reason— the stupefaction of apoplexy. 
 
 The immediate cause of the death of William III. 
 was a full from his horse in Hampton Court Park, by 
 
 which ho not only broke his collar-bone, bat detached 
 an old adhesion of the lungs to the pleura. This oc- 
 casioned inflammation and suppuration, which termi- 
 nated fatally. 
 
 Queen Mary, his consort, died of the small pox. 
 Bishop Burnet attributes the fatal termination of the 
 case to the negligence or unskilfiilness of Dr. Rad- 
 cliff'e, but, in Sir Henry Halford's opinion, without 
 any reason. 
 
 Dryden appears to have died of senile gangrene — a 
 mortification occurring in the extremities of aged per- 
 sons from ossification of the arteries. His body lay 
 in state at tho College of Physicians for ten days. 
 
 Sir Henry thinks that Swift's irritability was of that 
 peculiar natnre which accompanies palsy. In his youth 
 he suffered from lieadache. dizziness and deafness ; af- 
 terwards from a plethoric state of the cerebral vessels; 
 and he finally died of effusion of water into the ven- 
 tricles of the brain, or serous apoplexy. 
 
 George I. and II. both died suddenly; the former of 
 apoplexy, in his carriage, the latter of a rupture of the 
 right ventricle of tlie heart. Tlie disease which termi- 
 nated the life of the Duke of Gloucester was seated 
 in the liver, and produced such extreme irritability of 
 the stomach as to incapacitate it from receiving tho 
 smallest nourishment. 
 
 Pride of a Cow. — A correspondent informs Tis 
 that, while on a visit at the country-house of a lady, 
 it one day happened that they were pas.sing the cow- 
 house just at the same time when the dairy-maid 
 was driving home the cows to be milked. They all 
 passed in quietly enough, with the exception of one, 
 which stood lowing at the door, and resisted every 
 effort of the dairy-maid to induce her to enter. 
 When the maid was interrogated as to the cause of 
 this obstinacy, she attributed it to pride ; and, when 
 surprise was expressed at this, she explained that, 
 whenever any other of the cows happened to get ia 
 before her, this particular cow would seem quite af- 
 fronted, and would not enter at all unless the others 
 were turned out again, and she had an opportunity 
 of walking in before them. This statement having 
 excited curiosity, and a wish to ascertain its accu- 
 racy, the maid was desired to redouble her exertions 
 to induce the cow to enter ; on which she chased 
 the animal through every comer of the yard, hut 
 without success, untU she at last desisted from want 
 of breath, declaring that there was no other remedy 
 than to turn out the other cows. She was then per- 
 mitted to make the experiment ; and no sooner were 
 the others driven out than in walked the gratified 
 cow, with a stately air, her more humble-minded 
 companions following meekly in her train. 
 
 Elephant.— The first instance of an elephant 
 being brought to the west was in tho year 807, 
 when the Caliph Haroun al Rashid presented one to 
 Charlemagne. The first which came to England 
 was presented by the King of France to King Jlen- 
 ry III., in the year 1255 ; a notice of the arrival, as 
 well as a sketch of which was preserved by Matthew 
 Paris, in his own manuscript of his ' Chronicle * 
 now preserved in the British Museum. (MS. Cot- 
 ton. Nero, D. I.) It arrived at Sandwich, and was 
 conveyed to the Tower of London, where the sher- 
 iffs of London had been directed, by the king's pre- 
 cept, to build a house for it, forty feet in length and 
 twenty in breadth. (Rot. libcrat. 39 Henry III., m. 
 11, Rot. Claus. Gjusd. anni. m. IG.) The animal 
 was ten feet in height to the top of the back, and 
 was ten years old. It lived to tho forly-first Henry 
 III., in which year it appears upon the Chancellor's 
 Rolls that, for the maintainance of the elephant and 
 his keeper from Michaelmas to St. Valentine's Day, 
 immediately before the elephant died, the charge 
 was no less than £19 13s. Id. Its keeper was one 
 John Goach. 
 
 Generosity, wrong placed, bccometh a vice ; a 
 princely mind will undo a private family. 
 
m 
 
 IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 Thk Oalway Steamers. — The London Morning 
 Herald, speaking of the advantages to be derived 
 from the new line of steamers between Galway and 
 the United States, says: — 
 
 'When the contract between the Post Office and 
 the City of Dublin Steam Packet Company comes 
 into operation, it will be easy for a passenger from 
 London to reach Galway in thirteen or fourteen 
 hours, and if he intends to proceed to America, he 
 will then find himself as far westward on his jour- 
 ney as he would be had lie left I.ivorpool thirty six 
 hours before in one of the Cunard steamers. With 
 the new boats now constructing for the service be- 
 tween Uolyhead and Kingstown, the passage will 
 be made in two or three hours, and without any of 
 the inconveniences hitherto experienced in crossing 
 the Chaimcl; so that, by taking the Galway route, 
 supposing it to be established — and that will obvi- 
 ously depend upon the support it may receive — the 
 passenger between England and the Vnitud States 
 ■will not only get rid of nearly two days of a sea 
 Toyage, ■shich must be esteemed a great relief by 
 the majority of people, but will save an equal space 
 of time iu his journey. For all with which speed 
 is essential, viz., letters and high class passengers, 
 a glance at the map and an acquaintance with the 
 means of rapid transport across Great Britain to 
 Galway will sulfice to show that tho latter port has 
 superior attractions. We hope, therefore, we may 
 augur the best success to this enterprise." 
 
 MocNT Vesvvics The following account of tho 
 
 late eruption of Vesuvius, is given by a correspond- 
 ent of the London Times, under date of the 27th 
 of May: — 
 
 'The entire of the lower part of the great cone of 
 Vesuvius appeared on fire, and thick masses of 
 smoke were thrown up, mixed with red hot stones 
 and flakes of lava; travelling over a most rugged 
 ■way of old lava, \vc made our ■way up the point 
 whence the stones, lava and smoke seemed to rise 
 in greatest quantities, and we arrived on a rise just 
 over the greatest fissure. A\'o went quite close up 
 to the largest crater, which we were enabled to do, 
 as the wind blew steady and strong down the valley 
 and thus we got ■nithin eight or ten yards of the 
 next open; from this we counted five or six distinct 
 fountains of fire, the largest putting forth volumes 
 of smoke, stones and lava; from another a literal 
 fountain of burning matter was ejected, and from 
 all lava and smoke poured forth in greater or less 
 quantities, the ■whole torrent of lava uniting into a 
 regular stream of burning liquid pouring down the 
 incline side of the valley. The eruption evidently 
 was on yie increase, and acres upon acres seemed 
 putting forth in fire. T"he stream of burning lava 
 now in the twilight became awfully visible, and 
 rolled along at a rapid pace to the bottom of the 
 valley, up to the vei-y sides of the Jlonte Somma. 
 We were perfectly amazed at a sight no pencil could 
 portray or pen describe.' 
 
 Cool Houses.— The Scientific American, excel- 
 lent authority on the subject, gives the following 
 method of securing cool houses during the warm 
 season: — 
 
 'The first necessity is a thorough draft. This can 
 always be obtained by opening every door and win- 
 dow in the basement, the top of every window- 
 above and by throwing each door wide open; but 
 above all, be sure that the trap door in the roof is 
 open, and there is plenty of air room from it down 
 the stairs, so that whichever be the direction of the 
 wind, there will be at least one ascending current 
 of air in the house. Another requisite is shade. 
 Our common slat shutters answer well for the win- 
 dows, but the most cheap and convenient shelter 
 for the roof is to cover it thickly with straw, dried 
 reeds or rushes. 
 
 These will resist the infiuencc of the noonday 
 sun and keep the garret almost us cool as the base- 
 ment. One of the most simple methods and at the 
 same time cheupest means of lowering the tempera- 
 ture of a room, is to wet a cloth of any size, the 
 larger the better, and suspend it in the place you 
 want cooled; let the room be well ventilated and 
 the temperature will sink from ten to twenty de- 
 grees in less than an hour. The above hints will 
 be useful to many; and, as a last suggestion, we 
 will inform the reader, that in summer, it is well to 
 keep a solution of chloride of lime in the house, 
 and occasionally sprinkle it in the more frequented 
 parts, as the passages and stairs.' 
 
 Mf.zzofanti as a Linguist. — Looking back over 
 the naiTative of Cardinal Mezzofanti's life, we can 
 trace u tolerably regular progress in the number of 
 languages ascribed to him through its several stages. 
 In 1805, according to Father Carronni, ' he was com- 
 monly reported to be master of more than twenty- 
 four languages.' Giord:ini's account of him, in 1812, 
 seems, although it does not specify any number, to 
 indicate, a greater total than this. Stewart Rose, in 
 1817, speaks of him as 'reading twenty languages, 
 and conversing in eighteen.' Baron von Xach, in 
 1820, brings the number of the languages spoken by 
 him up to thirty-two. Lady Morgan states, that 
 by the public report of Bologna, he was reputed to 
 be master of forty. He himself, in 1826, stated to 
 M Mazzinglii that he knew forty-five ; and before 
 1830 he used to say that he knew ' fifty and Bologn- 
 ese.' In replj' to the request of M Jlouravieff, a 
 little later, that he would give him a list of the lan- 
 guages that he knew, he sent him a sheet containing 
 the name of God in fifty-six languages. In the year 
 1846, he told Father Bresciani that he knew seven- 
 ty-eight languages and dialects, and a list communi- 
 cated to me by his nephew, Dr. Gaetano Minarelli, 
 by whom it has been compiled, after a diligent ex- 
 amination of his deceased uncle's books and papers, 
 reaches the astounding tottil of one hundred and 
 fourteen. — Dr. llussell'sLife of Mczzofanti. 
 
 Chinese Mode of Stilling a Stoum. — The vari- 
 ous customs mentioned by Father le Comte are still 
 in vogue on board the Chinese junks, whenever bad 
 weather is apprehended, and it is really curious to 
 obseire how the cunning and trickery so common in 
 China are manifested also in their religious practices. 
 The devotion of the Chinese appears often to con- 
 sist in deceiving their gods by some artifice, doing 
 them ill turns, and catching them in a trap, from 
 ■which they cannot extricate themselves. If a storm 
 is very violent, they say the spirit of the sea wants 
 to swallow the ship for a prey, and then the captain, 
 instead of animating the courage of his sailors, and 
 manceuvering the ship in the best way he can, cun- 
 ningly gives orders to make a miniature ship to de- 
 ceive the wrathful spirit, and the crew set to work 
 'with an incredible mixture of simplicity and knave- 
 ry. Nothing is omitted to render the deception com- 
 plete ; the little junk has its masts, its cordage, its 
 sails, its flags, compass, rudder, boat, arms, even its 
 cooking utensils, pro^visions, and merchandise, down 
 to the very account books, with as many paper fig- 
 ures as there are of real men on board. When this 
 absurd and disgraceful lie is complete, the Chinese 
 physiognomies expand into cunning smiles at the 
 success of the artifice. Tiien the tam-tamsand tam- 
 bourines sound, fireworks are let off, and the Uttle 
 mock ship is thrown overboard with a thousand im- 
 precations, and in the midst of the most deafening 
 clamor ; all eyes follow it with an.\iet\', and as soon 
 as it is shallowed by the ivaves the crew burst into 
 shouts of laughter, and rejoice to think how nicely 
 they have tricked the spirit of the sea. 
 
 Flowers are beautiful and significant gifts, and 
 are seldom unacceptable or inappropriate. 
 
 MISCELLANEA. 
 
 ' Why, it's as plain as two and two make four,' 
 said a man in an argument. ' But I deny that, too," 
 said his disputant, ' for 2 and 2 make 22.' 
 
 Good morning, Jlr. Ilenpeck,' said a Yankee 
 printer, in search of female compositors, ' have you 
 got any daughters that would make good type-set- 
 ters ?■ ' No, but 1 have got a wife that would make 
 a very fine ' devil.' ' 
 
 An Irishman had occasion to visit the South some 
 time since. When he returned he remarked to a 
 friend that the Southern people were very extrava- 
 gant. L'pon being asked why so, he remarked that 
 where he stayed, they had a candle-stick worth 
 eleven hundred dollars ! 
 
 'Why, how in the world could itcostthat much ?' 
 inquired a friend. 
 
 ' Och, be gorry ! it was nuthin' mor'n a big nagur 
 fellow holdin' a torch for us to eat by.' 
 
 A country fellow just come to London, gaping 
 about in every shop he came to, at last came to a 
 lottery office, where seeing only one man sitting at 
 a desk, he could not imagine what commodity was 
 sold there, but calling to the clerk : — 
 
 ' Pray, sir,' said he,' 'what do you keep to sell, 
 here ?' 
 
 'Loggerheads!' cried the clerk. 
 
 ' Do you ?' answered the countrjTnan, ' by jingo, 
 then you have a special good trade, for I see you 
 have but one loggerhead left.' 
 
 There is a common Scotch story of a conversation 
 carried on over the counter in vo-wels. A matron 
 is ' shopping,' and, on looking up from the fabric 
 under inspection, puts the question, ' Go ?' ' A,' 
 is the reply. 'A oo •' is the next interrogative. 
 Again the draper replies affirmatively ; and his cus- 
 tomer has but one more question to ask, ' A' ae oo r' 
 for she must not only know that the article is ■ wool,' 
 and 'all ■wool,' but that it is ' all one year's wool.' 
 
 The Duke of Slarlborough passing the gate of the 
 Tower, after having inspected the fortress, was ac- 
 costed by an ill-looking fellow thus : — ' How do you 
 do, my lord duke ? I believe your grace and I have 
 been in every jail in the kingdom.' I believe, friend,' 
 replied the duke, with surprise, ' this is the only 
 jail I have ever visited.' ' Very hke,' replied the 
 fellow, ' but I have been in all the rest.' So saying, 
 he touched his hat to the duke and walked off' with 
 the greatest sang froid imaginable. Marlborough 
 started, as well he might. 
 
 ADVERTISEMENTS, 
 
 WILLIAM K. O'BRIEN, 
 
 77 THIBD AVENUE, HEW TORK. 
 
 — Manufacturer of— 
 LOOKING-GLASS, PORTRAIT 
 
 AND 
 
 PICTURE FRAMES, 
 
 'iVholesaU and Retail. 
 
 Oil Pnintinge and Engravjnps framed and varnished. 
 
 Orders promptly executed, packed aud shipped to any part 
 
 my22 of the country. 3o»* 
 
 T. P. FOYNES & CO., 
 
 COSMEBCIAL, OAKD, PLAIN AND 
 
 ORNAMENTAL JOB PRINTERS, 
 
 No. 40 Devonshire Street, 
 Comer of Water street, (formerly Gazette Office.) 
 
 jy3 
 
 ff 
 
 WILLIAM PEARCE, 
 
 PL UMBER, 
 12 AND 28 ClTV EXCUANOE, 
 
 DEVONSHIRE STEEET, 
 
 BOSTON. 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 335 
 
 ADVEKTISEMBNTS. 
 
 FINK READY iSlAUE CLOTHING 
 
 CUSTOM TAILORING. 
 
 SPRING OVERCOATS, 
 
 BUSINESS COATS, 
 
 FROK AND DRESS COATS, 
 
 TANTS AND VESTS, 
 Good, Stylish, Well Made Gakment8, 
 Such as men of taste nud good judgmeiit will wear, can at 
 all times be found at our store. 
 Our aim is to produce for our customers the best Ready 
 Made Uormeuts at the lowest possible pkioes sovl 
 CASH. 
 
 Read ers of this Journal are earnestly solicited to exam- 
 ine our goods before purchasing. 
 
 J W. SMITH & CO., 
 
 Dock Sqdake, corner Elm Street. 
 my 11 tf 
 
 LEURNHAM, (formerly junior partner in the firm of 
 . litiuxHAM liuoTHEUs,) has taken the Old Staud, 58 
 & (JO Cornhiil, occupied by the late lirm, and holds himself 
 in readiness to supply all orders with which he may be fa- 
 vored. 
 
 Te Antique Booke Store still flourisheth, 
 
 Asytte dide in days of yore; 
 
 And ye Buunham still catereth 
 
 Tor ye lovers of ancieut lore. 
 
 al7 3t 
 
 SOUTH END CATHOLIC BOOK STORE, 
 
 And Depot for the Sale of the 
 
 JHETROPOLITAN AND YOUTHS' BUGAZINES. 
 
 WILLIAM KEATING, Agent, 
 
 8 1-2 Harrison Avenue, or at his New Periodical Store, 176 
 
 Harrison Avenue, Boston, Mass., 
 
 Where a great variety of the most popular Books and 
 
 Papers cam be had at the very lowest prices, 
 
 WILL supply Clubs, Agents, Canvassers, &c.. on the 
 same terms as the Publishers. The following are 
 the terms — 3 copies will be sent by mail, to one address, tor 
 onevear.i?o; 6 copies for SIO; 13 copies forli?20; 20 copies 
 for S.30. 
 
 0:1?=' On the receipt of S3, three copies of the Catholic 
 Youth's Magazine and one copy of the Metropolitan will 
 be mailed regularly lor one year. 
 
 OTT^ A few sets of the Magazines from the beginning, can 
 b§ had of the Agent. Also, all new books furnished as 
 soon as published. ap24 3mos 
 
 GENERAL TICKET OFFICE 
 
 — EOR THE — 
 
 S O UTHERN AND WESTERN STATES 
 
 AND 
 
 THE CANADAS, 
 No. 2 Albany Street, Boston. 
 
 EDWARD RYAN, Agent. 
 
 N. B. — Passage to and from Liverpool, and Bills of Ex- 
 change on England, Ireland and Scotland. 
 
 ap24 ly 
 
 SAMUEL MASURY. 
 
 PHOTOGRAPH AND DAGUERREOTYPE 
 
 ARTIST. 
 
 289 Washington Street, 
 
 (Up one Hight of stairs) 
 
 Boston. 
 Photographs taken of every size and Unishcd in Oil, Wa- 
 ter, India Ink and Pastel Colors. Daguerreotypes takeu in 
 the most superior manner. myl 
 
 WILLIAM D. PARK, 
 
 SHADES HOTEL, 
 
 NO. 2 MORTON PLACE, 
 
 BOSTON. 
 
 WHY BURN GAS BY DAYLIGHT? 
 
 STEPHEN ROE i CO., 
 
 INVENTORS and Manufacturers of the Improved Day- 
 light Rellector, for diffusing the healthy light of day 
 Into all dark places. No. 23 State street, Boston, and No. 
 
 I operation. 
 
 6mfl3 
 
 B. 
 
 S. TKE^VNOR, ATTOKKEY and COUK.SKLLOK 
 
 - AT LAW, 15 MaKsachusetta Block, Court Sauarc, 
 
 Boston. 
 
 (CT^rartJcular attention paid to Conveyancing, and the 
 examination of titles of Keal Estate. fcblS 
 
 AMUSEMENTS. 
 
 BOSTON TllEATIIE. 
 
 Thomas Baruv, Lcfesee and Manager. 
 
 Doore open at 7 ; rerformnnce commences at 7 1-2 o'clock 
 rrices of admission— I'rivatu lUixey $0; I'ttiijuette, Bal- 
 
 ony un d 1st Tier 60 cts; Family Circle 25 cts; Amphithea- 
 
 ro 15 ct 8. 
 
 BOSTON MUSEUM. 
 W. II. Smith, Stage Manager. 
 
 Open for the production of Tragidies, Comedies, Spec- 
 tacles, Farces, &c. 
 Exhibition Hall opens at6 1-2; commences at 7 1-2. 
 Admitjsion 25 cents: Reserved Seats 50 cents. 
 
 HOWARD ATHENiEUM. 
 
 Jacob Barkow, Lessee and Manager. 
 
 Henry Wallack, Stage Manager. 
 
 The Grand Combination every night 
 
 Doors open at 7; Performance commences at 7 1-2. 
 Dress Boxes 75 cts; Circle boxes 50 cts; rarqiiette 50 cts; 
 Orchestra 75 cts; Upper Boxes 25 cts; Gallery 13 cts. 
 
 GILMORE'S SALEM QUADRILLE BAKD. E. UP- 
 TON, Jr., Prompter. Apply to P. S. GilmokEj Es- 
 sex House, Salem, Mass. 3i 
 
 febia 
 
 P . M O R K I S , 
 
 APOTHECARY, 
 
 Corner of Federal and Purchase streets, foot of Summer 
 
 street, Boston. 
 
 STRICT personal attention paid to compounding Physi 
 clan's Prescriptions. A choice selection of Family 
 Medicines constantly on hand. A ^vell selected stock of 
 genuine imported Perfumery and Fancy Goods. Soda 
 Watei'with choice Syrups. A large assortment of genuine 
 Havana Segars constantly on hand. ap5 
 
 NORTHERN HOUSE, 
 
 NORTH SQUARE— BOSTON. 
 
 JOHN GLANCT Proprietor. 
 
 This House has rooms equal to any first class Hotel, and 
 permanent or transient Boarders can be accommodated 
 nearly one half cheaper than at any other House in the 
 City. 
 
 In the Reading Room can be found all the morning and 
 evening papers, and periodicals of the day, together with 
 an extensive Library, for the free and exclusive use of 
 the Boarders. 
 
 N. B. Strangers visiting Boston, can always find this 
 House a Home. 
 
 THE SOUTHERN CITIZEN, 
 
 IS published weekly at Knoxville, Tennessee, by JOHN 
 MITCHELL & WM. G. SWAN, at Si;2 per annum, or 
 $1 for SIX months, payable invariably in ad^■ance. 
 
 Mr. Mitchell having commeneed in the 28th number of 
 the paper, a series of Letters addressed to the Hon. Alex- 
 ander H. Stephens of Georgia, which when completed will 
 furnish an entire history of 
 
 THE IRISH TROUBLES Oi*' 1848,. 
 
 With their Causes and Consequences, 
 
 The Southern Citizen will be the more interesting to both 
 American and Irish readers. Besides these contributions 
 from Mr. Mitchel, the Southern Citizen will continue to 
 have its usual quantity of original matter upon political 
 and literary subjects prepared by him. The circulation, 
 though large and constantly increasing, the proprietors 
 have thouglit will be much more extended by an announce- 
 ment in this form. 
 
 Communications with remittances may be addresedto 
 Mitchel & Swan, Knoxville, Tennessee, or to any of the 
 following Agents: 
 
 S G Courtenay & Co, Charleston, S C; Thomas B O'Con- 
 nor, Savannah, Ga; J C Morgan, New Orleans, La; Jas A 
 Gentrv, Qichmond, Va; Alexander Adamson, Washington 
 citv; tallinage&Tunner, Cincinnati. O; PM Havertv, 110 
 Fulton slr-jet, N Y; S H Goetzel. 33 Dauphin struct. Mobile 
 Ala; Benj B Davis, Masonic Builriing, iMontgomerv, Ala ; 
 Ross & Toucey, 121 Nas.^au street, N Y. supplv denh'Vs only 
 upon reasonable terms; James McGinn, 121 Kearney street 
 San Francit^co. 
 
 %* Clubs of ten will be supplied with the paper for $15. 
 
 DO'ROUKKE, respectfully informs his friends and the 
 • public, that he keeps constautlv on hand CUFUNS 
 of all .size.-* and kinds, lit bin Collii; 'Manufactory, No. 347 
 Fcdural, bctWL-en Bench and Kneeland Streets, Bo^^ton, 
 whicli he will sell as reasonable as ciiu be boughtat any oth- 
 er ^)i:iec in the city. 
 
 N. B. — Ordurs punctually attended to. day or night. 
 
 Residence, No. 28 South street, Boston. 
 
 K>"Grave-Clothe8 furnished to order at short notice. 
 
 feblS 
 
 SUBSCRIBE! SUBSCRIBEI SUBSCRIBE! 
 THE IRISH MISCELLANY 
 
 PICTURE GALLERY. 
 Iitducemknts to Kkw Suisbcribers. 
 
 On Saturday, the 3d of July next, we shall precent to 
 each subsL-iilKT to thu Irish Pictorial Miscellany, a .-plenUid 
 Litlii)^'niiilnc Kii^'vuviug, representing the glorious scene, 
 whicli (Kximril ^liortly before the eapturv of Limerick, 
 when (.iinuil .--:u>liL-ld, who comnmudcd the Irihli horse, 
 having kaiiicil that a large supply of huavy i-eige guns wae 
 on the way to the camp of the I'rince of Grange, ^f^olved 
 to capture them. Crossing over the country by a diilicult 
 and circuitous rout, so as to intercept the convoy, he came 
 up in front of it at Killenuniona. attacked William's 
 troops, deleated them and compelled them to retrtat before 
 the Irish horse, leaving their artillery in the hands of Sars- 
 field. 
 
 Having to rejoin the garrison at Limerick, Sarsfield knew 
 it would be impossible to carry with him the heavy Eng- 
 lish guns through the mountain passes, and determined to 
 destroy them. He ordered them to be charged to their ut- 
 most capacity, and imbedded deeply in the earth, with the 
 whole of the baggage train, which also tell into his liands. 
 A train being laid, the spark was applied and in a few sec- 
 onds the seige artillery of William was shattered into innu- 
 merable fragments This gallant feat astonished the Eng- 
 lish troops, gave new courage to the Irish, and added to 
 the great popularity of the gallant Sarslield. The explo- 
 sion shook the '^arth for miles around, and was heard at an 
 immense distance. 
 
 It is at the moment of the explosion of the English ar- 
 tillery which our artist has siezed upon for the subject oi 
 his pencil. 
 
 This memorable event will be faithfully and accurately 
 portrayed. It hasnot hitherto, given int^piration, as tar as 
 we can learn to any of our lii^li artists, aiid thyil now have 
 amble justice done it. It will make a beautiful picture. 
 We shall present it to our readers on a sheet of line draw- 
 ing paper, separate from the Miscellany, suitable for 
 framing. 
 
 It win at once be seen that we cannot do this without a 
 great outlay of capital. We expect to be reimbursed by a 
 very large addition to our subscription list, as no person 
 will be entitled to it who has not paid on or before the 3d 
 of July next one years' subscription in advance, dating 
 from our first number. 
 
 Non subscribers will be supplied at Sl,50 for each plate. 
 
 We are resolved that our subtcrihers shall pot.'^ess a -pic- 
 ture gallery' worthy of the events we propose to commem- 
 orate. This will be the first ol a series of national pic- 
 tures we propose presenting gratis to our regular subscrib- 
 ers the second picture of the series will be ready early in 
 October^ the subject of which is not yet dccided'on. 'We 
 should feel obliged to any of our friends who possess old 
 pictures of remarkable events in Irish history, or portraits 
 of distinguished Irishnjen, to forward them to us. They 
 shall be taken good care of. and returned. 
 
 Let our friends see to their subsoriptions in season. Our 
 Picture Gallery will be fit to adorn the walls of any gentle- 
 man's house in the country, and will, we hope, eventually 
 supersede the wretched daubs which are often met with. 
 
 Our arrangements for the first picture are almost com- 
 pleted. It will be absolutely necessary that we should 
 know immediately the number of plates we shall want, 
 i^et our subscribers therefore, send in tlieir subecriptiona 
 without delay, and be careful to give us their correct ad- 
 dress. We shall not strike ofl" anymore copies than are 
 ordered before the above date. 
 
 Will our friends of t'-e press please notice this new fea- 
 ture in our publication, and we will take care that their 
 sanctums are adorned with choice copies oi this nutional 
 picture. 
 
 THE IRISH VINDICATOR, 
 
 A WEEIvLY NEWSPAPER, 
 
 The Best and Cheapest Published in America. 
 
 THIS splendid Paper, which is little over nine months 
 in existence, has met with the 
 MOST WONDERFUL SUCCESS, 
 
 and has been pronounced by the Press and the Public to be 
 superior to any other IrisJi Weekly in the United States. 
 
 It contains each week, the very 
 Latest News from every County in Ireland ; 
 Original and entertaining 
 STORIES AND ANECDOTES, 
 and a varietv of MisceIlaneou.« Reading matter, of a charac- 
 ter which cannot fail to elevate and chasten the intel- 
 lectual appetite. The Irish Vindicator is devoted 
 
 TO THE INTERESTS OF IRISHMEN IN AMERICA, 
 and is so cheap as to be within the reach of the poorest. 
 
 ONLY THREE CENTS A COPY. 
 
 the following are the terms 
 
 To any part of the United States, for one year, SP1.50 
 
 Do. do. do. for 8 months, 1.00 
 
 Do. do. do. for 4 months, 0.60 
 
 Do. do. do. fori month, 0.12 
 
 To any part of Canada or the Briti.'ih Provinces, one year, 
 
 S2,00 — All payments in advance. 
 
 pon advertising, 
 
 12 lines, single insertion SI. 00 I 12 lines, 1 month, 92.50 
 
 12 do. 3 months, 5-50 j 12 do. 1 year, 16.00 
 
 Published every week, at the Office, No 10 Spruce street, 
 
 New York, by the Proprietors. 
 
 EDWARD DOWNES CONNERY & CO. 
 New York, march 27 
 
 PASSENGER CERTIFICATES. 
 
 TO OLD COUNTRYMEN. Owen Mc Namara has 
 Passage Certificates und Drafts always on hand and 
 for sale. As lie does busine.e« for that nio-^t rcf nectable 
 house, (Williiim.s & Guion) in New York. Old Couiitr.men 
 desiring to send for their friends, or remit money, would 
 do well to give him a call atNo. 4Goruam St..' opposite 
 Summer St., Lowell, Muss &p2tt 
 
FB M®BR1 TEI 1Q)PES TEAT ILIAfI ME, 
 
 ^dcctei) rrprrssb for i\t |ri$Ij llXiscdlaim. 
 
 MUSIC BY SIR JOHN STEVENSON, WORDS BY THOMAS MOORE. 
 
 FOR ONE, TWO, OK THREE VOICES. 
 
 Tendcrlr. I *i' _ ^ _ __ S Jj, ^ 
 
 Tendcrlr. I « ^ ^ _ __ • W J ^_ 
 
 y ♦• ^?\ 
 
 1. I'd mourn the hopes that leave me.If thy smiles had left it too ; I'd weep when friends deceive me,If thou wert.like thcm.nntruc.But while I've thee before me, With 
 
 
 2 ris not in fate to harm me, wnile tnte leaves tny love to me; lis notm joy locnarmme.uniessjoy uesnar a witn tnee.une minute s dream aoout t nee wen 
 loco. U I U«* 
 
 
 i( 
 
 heart so warm and eyes so briKlit.So clouds can linger o'er me.That smile turns them all to light I 
 
 worth a lon^.au endless vear (Jf waking bliss without thee.Mv own love.my only dear. 
 
 ?i / •/ — i J.< — </ \/ 1 — i- 
 
 '^- 
 
 1 
 
 Jt 
 
 ;»lft»i 
 
 
 f 
 
 ^^ 
 
 ?=rrj»-^— I N '-— — ^<^ •---•—>- • •-r~T-^rf> -^r»^T-*r"^ -•(-•-ar-^t-^-a -»••— r- 
 
 3. 
 And though the hojio be gone, love, 
 
 That long sparkled o'er our way, 
 Oh ! we shall journey on love, 
 
 More safely, without its ray. 
 Far better lights shall win me 
 
 Along the path I've yet to roam, 
 The mind that bums within me, 
 
 And pure smiles from thee at home. 
 
 Tlius, when the lamp that lighted 
 
 The trav'ier at first goes out, 
 lie feels awliile beuighted, 
 
 And looks round in fear and doub'i 
 But soon, the prospect clearing, 
 
 By cloudless starlight on he-treads, 
 And thinks no lamp so cheering 
 
 As that liglit which Heaven sheds ! 
 
'Kitvi^'^ 
 
 VOLUME I— NUMBER 22. ] 
 
 BOSTON, SATURDAY, JULY 10, 1858. 
 
 [ PRICE FOUR CENTS. 
 
 ST. VINCENT DE PAUL ORPHAN ASYLUM. 
 
 CAMDEM STREET, BOSTON. 
 
 We this week present to our readers a view of 
 the new and commodious building recently erected 
 in this city at the corner of Camden street and 
 Shawmut avenue, for the St. Vincent De Paul 
 Female Orphan Asylum. 
 
 This institution was established in this city in 
 1832, under the direction of the late Rt. Rev. Ben- 
 edict Fenwlck, the then bishop of the diocese, by 
 three Sisters of Charity, from the parent institution, 
 St. Joseph's, Emnietsburg, Maryland, and from 
 which, most of the as)-lums of a kindred nature 
 throughout the country, have derived their exis- 
 tence. 
 
 Of the three sisters who came to this city in '32, 
 two are still engaged in their work of charity — one 
 of them. Sister Ann Alexis Shorb, being now as 
 originally, the lady superior. The other. Sister 
 Gregory, is no longer living. They first opened a 
 free school for indigent children in Hamilton street, 
 and after a few years removed to Atkinson street, 
 from thence to the estate corner of High and Pearl 
 streets, known as the Harris estate, enlarging their 
 sphere of operations, so as to provide a home^^ as 
 well as the advantages of education for such asv.'ere 
 in need of domestic care and shelter. 
 
 Feeling the want of ample accommodations, the 
 Sisters began to hold occasional fairs, the first be- 
 ing held in Concert Hall, with the hope of obtain- 
 
 ing a sufiicient amount to enable them to purchase 
 such a building as they required. Their efforts in 
 this direction were very successful, and in. due 
 time they procured the estate on Purchase street, 
 which they have occupied for twelve years. But 
 even this establishment soon proved insufficient for 
 their purposes, and they continued to hold fairs 
 from time to time, looking forward to the erection 
 of a building of their own, which should forever 
 satisfy all the necessities of the institution. 
 
 In 1843, a legislative act of incorporation was 
 granted, with a capital of $50,000; under this act, 
 the present building was projected, and about a 
 year ago started upon. It is now completed and 
 occupied by ten Sisters of Charity, and one hiui. 
 
 ST. VIXCKNT Dli PAUL UUl'li.VX ASYLUJI. 
 
338 
 
 IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 drcd and twenty children. The last legislature j Robert Stniple, painter; Madden & liiekey, plumb- | with which moBt persons, both high and low, attend 
 granted nn increase of capital of $150,000, making ' ers; W. K. Nowlan, gas titter. The marble work the reniains of their fellow niortuU to the tomb ; but 
 the entire cupitnl .■"i'iOO.OOO. was furnisliid by Alexander (iurvey; the kitchen i among the lower orders, wliose habits are free from 
 
 The corporation consists of live directors, ap- ' range by \V. & AV. K. AVhite; the furnaces arc from | the restraints of etiquette, this indecency of be- 
 pointed by the lit. Itev. Bishop for life, or during ' Chil.-on's establishment; iron work by James Bu- j liavior (I can give it no milder epithet) is most visi- 
 good behavior. Those at present holding office are I channan; plastering by Peter McCann; Venetian blc. 
 
 Messrs. Edwin A. Palmer, secretary; George F. ' blinds in the tower and verandah by J. W. l^'owlu & i I joined a gioup of men, on one side, who seemed 
 
 Co. The freestone work was executed by John rather surprised at meeting a person of my appcar- 
 Footc. Tlie whole building is elegant in its ap- , nnec in such a retired spot ; however, it was but 
 pcarance, and is a valuable addition to the many momentary ; for the conversation was soon resumed 
 
 Emery, treasurer; Nathaniel Wade, John Boman 
 and Hugh O'Brien. 
 
 The new structure appears to be in all particulars 
 suited to its purposes. Internally, every advant- 
 age of convenience and comfort has been provided. 
 E.xternally, it is of imposing proportions, and is a 
 public omament. It is in fact, an establishment 
 ■where the noble aims of the institution can be ful- 
 ly and perfectly curried out. It is built of brick, 
 with a ba.'-e of freestone, in the most massive and 
 substantial manner. The walls, from the founda- 
 tion up to the second story, are 2 1 inches thick, 
 and thence 20 inches thick to the roof. The front, 
 on Camden street is IGl foot four inches in length. 
 Its depth is 45 feet. The lot of land on which it is 
 located, measures 264 feet by 158 feet— about an 
 acre. The front part of the lot is enclosed by a 
 handsome iron fence. The main building stands 
 back 20 feet from the street, but the tower, which is 
 
 benevolent institutions of our city. 
 
 THE STEEL BOY. 
 
 FOXJXDBU ON FACT. 
 
 On some fond breast tbo parting eoul relies; 
 Some pious drops tlic closing eye requires; 
 E'en from tlie tomb tbe voice of uiiturc cries, 
 Een iu our ashes live their wonted llres. 
 
 Gray. 
 
 ^^'nlk^ng, one fine day in autumn, through a re- 
 tired part of the county of , I saw, at some 
 
 distance, a verdant hill, crowned by a couple of trees 
 and something like ruins, which tempted me to 
 turn oft' tlie road, and take a nearer view. 
 
 A genuine old Irish boreen (road,) composed, as 
 used for the main entrance and stairways, and i they usually are, of large stones in a kind of irregu 
 
 ■which is 20 feet square, and 13G feet high, projects 
 to the sidewalk. The building is four stories high 
 with attic and basement. -\t the rear are three 
 tiers of verandahs, eleven feet deep and extending 
 the entire length of the edifice. Its entire cost will 
 be about .<!90,000. 
 
 On the basement floor are spacious and well 
 lighted rooms for -washing, ironing and storing of 
 clothes, four large furnaces by which the building 
 is heated throughout, and the bakery, with store 
 room for flour, &c. On the first story are the kitch- 
 en and pantry, of abundant size and convenience, 
 the dining room for the children, arranged with 
 rows of long tables, the separate dining room for 
 the Sisters, the bathing room, in the centre of 
 which is a large deep basin, capacious enough for 
 the little ones to swim if they choose, and around 
 the sides of which are the wash stands, so arranged 
 that each chUd may be supplied with constantly 
 fresh water, without the possibility of one child 
 using the water that has been used by another; and 
 the play room about forty-five feet square. The 
 second story is occupied by the chapel and the ves- 
 tries; the infirmary, so arranged that it can be 
 opened and made to form a part of the chapel; the 
 reception room for visitors; private rooms for the 
 Sisters, and one of the school rooms, forty-five feet 
 square. The verandah of this floor, is connected 
 with the infirmary, so that convalescent patients 
 may enjoy the advantages of ficsh air. On the 
 third story are two school rooms, of the same size 
 and a number of small apartments for the accommo- 
 dation of the Sisters. The fourth story and the 
 attic are wholly occupied by the dormitories, in 
 which all possible provision is made for the chil- 
 dren's comfort. The means of ventilation through- 
 out the building are abundant, with twelve passa- 
 ges for the admission and circulation of fresh air on 
 each floor. Every room is lighted with gas. The 
 land surrounding the building is tastefully laid out 
 with flower gardens at each end, and a play ground 
 in the rear. There is ample accommodation for six 
 hundred children. 
 
 It is not intended for the benefit of female desti- 
 tute children of this city only; on the contrary, its 
 charity will embrace all who are really orphans, as 
 far as its limits and means will allow, of the entire 
 diocese of Boston. 
 
 The following is a list of persons directly engag- 
 ed in the construction and fitting up of the estab- 
 lishment: — 
 
 G. J. F. Bryant, architect; James Devine, master 
 builder; Murphy & Bulger, master carpenters; 
 
 lar pavement, led from the highway to the foot of 
 the hill, and traversing the green sward to the sum- 
 mit, I found, on a closer approach, that what ap- 
 peared to be ruins was, in fact, a receptacle for the 
 ruins of human nature, i. e. a burial ground ; the 
 trees, two noble ash, planted by some sorrowing 
 children of man, to mark the spot of earth that con- 
 tained the remains of a beloved object. 
 
 Somewhat fatigued by a long walk, I sat on an 
 elevated tomb, and, from the lofty situation of the 
 place, commanded an extensive prospect of the sur- 
 rounding country, which was not remarkable for 
 the picturesque ; its features were rather wild and 
 bare, save that on thS southwest there was some 
 planting, and the varied huesof the foliage appeared 
 to peculiar advantage in the light of a brilliant sun 
 and cloudless sky. 
 
 With such sad mementos as those by which I was 
 surrounded, I naturally fell into a train of serious 
 reflection on the vanity and uncertainty of all sub- 
 lunary things ; and I felt inclined to exclaim, with 
 the poet: — 
 
 ' Dust to dust concludes the noblest song.' 
 "VNTiile ruminating on ' days of langsyne,' I was 
 aroused to the recollection of existing circumstances 
 by hearing the funeral cry, harmonized by distance, 
 like the wild notes of the yEolian harp. I can -well 
 recollect when I would run any length to avoid 
 hearing the funeral cry, from a foolish dread of it 
 imbibed during childhood, and many years elapsed 
 ere I became reconciled to its wild tones, which, at 
 a distance, are not unharmonious. 1 cannot say so 
 much when in its immediate vicinity. I turned 
 round, and beheld a long procession ascending the 
 hill. There were, in front, a number of females, in 
 w^hite and very light colored gowns — the two first 
 carrying what is called a garland, viz. a pole, with 
 hoops horizontally fastened to the upper part, cov- 
 ered with curled paper — with the figures of long and 
 short gloves, cut in paper, suspended to it — sur- 
 mounted by a cross. Following these, were a good 
 many girls, two and two, each bearing a white rod 
 tipped with curled paper. This part of the proces- 
 sion appeared to be regulated by a man each side, 
 who kept the crowd from mingling with the garland 
 bearers. There was no regularity among those who 
 followed, save that, as is usual in this part of the 
 country, the females take the lead at funerals. 
 
 I should have liked to witness the ceremonies of 
 this interment unperceived ; but here there was no 
 chance ; so I went forth to meet them, and returned 
 
 by the younger part of them. 
 
 ' Bad luckt'ye, Barney,' said a fine-looking young 
 fellow, with a set of teeth that rivalled the whitest 
 ivory, ' but that was a nice trick ye pled on the 
 girls last night ; myself was kilt out vrid the laugh- 
 in'.' 
 
 ' I'm the boy to phisc them,' replied Barney, a 
 bold, dissipated-looking young man, with his hat 
 set upon the back of his head. 'Fwhisper boys,' 
 and he added something I could not hear, which set 
 them a-laughing. 
 
 'Isn't a wondher but yc're ashamed iv sich be- 
 havior,' said an old man, ' an' doesn't know how 
 soon ye'r own turn '11 come.' 
 
 ' Soon enough to bid the devil the time iv day, 
 fwhen ye meet 'im,' retorted Barney, and then, with 
 his companions fell behind. 
 
 I suppose it was in reply to the old man's remark 
 that another said : — 
 
 ' Och ! the Lord tit and prepare us for that day ! 
 amen, achiernah. Arrah, Billy, had ye's a good 
 fair r fwhat -way was the pigs ■' 
 
 The person addressed made a suitable answer, 
 and these sober men entered into a discussion on 
 the probable rise and fall of swine, which disgusted 
 me just as much as the hilarity of the youths, and 
 I passed on to the rear of the females. 
 
 Two young girls, who just left the criers, next 
 engaged my attention. 
 
 ' That's a purty pathem in Peggy Burke's g0T\-n,' 
 said one. ' D'ye know fwhere did she buy it. Bid- 
 dy?' 
 
 ' Musha, then, it'd be hard for me, an' it not her 
 own,' replied the other. 
 
 ' O virra ! an' as grand as she is,' continued the 
 first. 
 
 ' Aye, faix, shure its fwhat she borret (borrowed) 
 from the cook at the big house,' said the other. ' An' 
 afther all she got from the gantleman, ye know, sor- 
 ra dacent faggot she has now, barrin' that red 
 shawl, an' that same's no great things wid the con- 
 stant washin.' 
 
 Two old women came between me and the young 
 
 ones, talking vehemently. Now, I shall hear some 
 
 sympathy for the friends of the deceased thought I. 
 
 ' Molly, avournecn, the heart widin me is sore,' 
 
 said one, as they pushed before me. 
 
 ' Och ! an' shure its no wondher,' returned the 
 other. 
 
 ' Strugglin' an' slavin' from daylight tal night, in 
 could and wet,' continued the first, ' an afther all 
 to think iv one's arnin' going .sich a way.' 
 
 'The girls is a great throuble to us any way,' said 
 the other. 
 
 ' Ne'er a word iv lie ye say, Molly ; and wid my 
 will, sorra ring ever Barney Doyle '11 put on my lit- 
 tle girl's finger,' replied the first. 
 
 ' There worse nor him in the world," said the oth- 
 er ; ' he's not a bad doin" boy.' 
 
 ' Sugh ! bad luck to his breed,' cried the first, 
 spitting on the ground. He'll never join any one 
 belonging to me. I'd sooner crj- over my little 
 girl on the table, nor a beggarly Doyle id have her.' 
 Young and old, thought I, are the same, each 
 solely occupied in their own concerns. I moved 
 hastily forward, and entered the cemetery among 
 the foremost. 
 
 The usual ceremony of going thrice round the 
 site of the ruined edifice was performed, and then 
 
 among the crowd. 
 It is melancholy to ■witness the apathy and levity 1 the coffin was set down on a tomb-stone, until the 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 339 
 
 grave was du<;. J)uring this process, a number of 
 women rushed to different parts of the yard, some 
 to scream, «ne some to pray at the graves of their 
 relatives. The uproar was really astounding ; and, 
 to be as much away from it as possible, I went to 
 the most remote corner, and seated myself, by an 
 old man, on a stone. 
 
 ' A p !or sight, sir.' said he. ' God help us, and 
 look down on the sore hearts this day.' 
 
 ' Death," I replied, ' is an awful event ; we cannot 
 tell when his stroke may fall on ourselves ; we 
 should, therefore, strive to be always ready to meet 
 him.' 
 
 ' Och, ocli ! thruc for yc, sir — thrue for ye, dear. 
 Lord, prepare us for that hour.' 
 
 ' This is an unmarried person they are interring ?' 
 said I. 
 
 'Aye, sir, as purty a young girl as you could see 
 in the three parishes, God rest her soul ! she didn't 
 lave her fellow afther her. Och ! more's the pity 
 she to be taken, and sich as me left on the world.' 
 
 ' AVe should not question the will of God.' I re- 
 marked. 
 
 ' No, no, sir ; I ax his pardon. Sure, fwhy 
 wouldn't he know fwhat's best. Only, sir, it's a 
 sore sight to look at the poor young girl's mother ; 
 and she has none but her, God comfort her this 
 day." 
 
 ' WTiat caused her death :' I asked. 
 
 ' Faix, sir, mysel' doesn't rightly know ; some 
 says one thing, and some says another ; any way, I 
 think it was throuble kilt her entirely.' 
 
 'That is strange in a young person,' said I. 
 
 ' Young enough, sir — not two score out ; for all 
 that, she had throuble plenty.' 
 
 ' Was she deceived by any person ?' 
 
 ' Och ! no, sir. God forbid ! It's a long story, 
 sir. Didn't ye hear iv the night-walkers that was 
 goin' through the counthry, callin' themselves 
 Steel Boys?' 
 
 I replied in the affirmative, adding, that I was sur- 
 prised — having imagined the country quiet. 
 
 ' An' so it ought, sir, an' every counthry. Fwhat's 
 the use in night- walkin'? Ne'er a ha'porth, only 
 bringin' throuble on all belongin' to them, as ye may 
 see, sir, afore ye now. My heavy hathred on them 
 that couldn't let us alone.' 
 
 My curiosity was aroused ; and finding the old 
 man went home by the way I intended to go, we 
 set out together, and, during a long walk, I learned 
 from him the following particulars, which I shall 
 communicate in my own way, divesting them of the 
 endless ' sayshes ' and ' says shes ' that accompanied 
 the narration. 
 
 Thomas MoUoy was the youngest son of a widow, 
 and resided with his mother, in the mud-wall cabin 
 where he first saw the light. Tom, as he was gen- 
 erally called, was good tempered, sober, and indus- 
 trious. I do not mean to say that he was a rara 
 avis ; he loved sport as well as most young men, and 
 frequented the ball-alley, fairs, markets, wakes, and 
 dances ; but still he contrived to have his work 
 regularly done, and was ready to pay the rent when 
 called on. Moreover, Tom was a well made, hand- 
 some, young fellow, who had a good coat, black 
 silk cravat, and other appropriate necessaries for 
 dress, which so captivated the matrons, on their 
 way to the chapel on Sundays, that they usually re- 
 marked, ' Tom iloUoy's a clane, dacent boy ; an' 
 it'll be happy for the girl that gets him.' 
 
 In consequence of such remarks, the girls, one 
 and all, were throwing sheep's eyes at Tom, but in 
 
 Yain so at least thought the fair ones. However, 
 
 one Sunday, at a cake he proved himself not insen- 
 sible. 
 
 For the information of those who may not be eru- 
 dite in country amusements, I may observe that, in 
 rustic dialect, cake and dance are synonymous 
 terms. AMien a cottage vender of the native, viz. 
 poteen, has a good stock on hand, she (for in this 
 
 case the female is the active partner) gets a large 
 cake made, containing plenty of sugar and carraway 
 seeds. This, on the appointed day, generally Sun- 
 day afternoon, is covered with as white a cloth as 
 can be had, and placed on a churn dash stuck in the 
 ground. A fiddler is engaged, young people collect, 
 and dancing commences. 
 
 Now, among all ranks dancing is a thristy amuse- 
 ment ; therefore, there are frequent demands on the 
 native. The evening is concluded by a general 
 drinking bout ; and the young man who conceives he 
 has most money to spend, takes down the cake, puts 
 it into the lap of the girl he most prefers, who makes 
 a division of it among their friends. 
 
 It was on an occasion of this nature that Tom 
 provoked the envy of half the girls in the parish, by 
 gallantly taking down the cake, and putting it into 
 the lap of Mary Collins, a blooming, black-eyed dam- 
 sel of eighteen. From this time they were all in all 
 to each other. But when did the course of true love 
 run smooth? Mary's father was averse, to the 
 match. Collins was what is called vvell to do in the 
 world, and looked higher for his daughter. He ac- 
 knowledged Tom MoUoy was ' a likely (handsome) 
 cleverly boy, that no one could fault; but he'd 
 like a young couple to have something to begin 
 wid.' 
 
 ' It's little was between yerseT an' me the first 
 day,' his wife would reply, who was won over by 
 her daughter's importunity, 'an' fwhat are we the 
 worse iv it now ?' 
 
 ' Sorra hair I care,' was the reply. ' Iv I was a 
 fool, its no reason I'd let my child be one, nor I 
 wont.' 
 
 But after much importunity and cavilling, and 
 on the widow's giving up the bit of land, Collins at 
 length was brought round. The bride's clothes 
 were bought, and everything was settled for the 
 marriage. 
 
 Two days before, there was a market in a neigh- 
 boring town, to which Tom went on some business. 
 He set out alone, and light of heart, whistled as he 
 went, not for want of thought ; for the delightful 
 idea that Mary was to be his own in two days, was 
 never absent a moment. 
 
 I have said Tom was sober ; but he met many ac- 
 quaintances, and could not avoid sharing in many 
 treats of spirits ; for among a certain class of our 
 countrymen, friendship and good neighborhood 
 are nothing, if not occasionally cemented by a glass. 
 
 When evening drew on, and he was about to re- 
 turn, he encountered a neighboring young man. 
 
 ' Shure, Paddy,' said Tom, 'I didn't know ye wor 
 for the market, an' we might be together.' 
 
 'I didn't know it mysel' at the time,' replied the 
 other. ' An' fwhere's this ye' re for now, boy.' 
 
 ' Home.' 
 
 ' Whooh ! time enough this two hours ; wait for 
 me an' I'll be wid ye. Come in, and take a dhrop 
 iv something.* 
 
 ' Thank ye, kindly, Paddy, butltuk plenty — sorra 
 dhrop could I take.' 
 
 ' Well, come in any way — shure we wont eat ye.' 
 
 ' No, nor drink me, I'll warrant, fwhere ye can 
 get better stuff,' said Tom, as they entered the pub- 
 lic house. 
 
 In one of the rooms they met a company of seven 
 or eiaht men, among whom, it appeared, Paddy had 
 previously been. 
 
 Just about this time, the hitherto peaceable coun- 
 try had been disturbed by parties of the deluded 
 peasantry, assuming the name of Steel Boys, and 
 going about at night, taking up arms. 
 
 Tom had been repeatedly solicited to join them, 
 but always declined, which exasperated some of the 
 leading spirits, who swore that he should be one of 
 them by the way of no thanks. 
 
 It was into a party of these midnight legislators 
 that Tom was now introduced ; but they did not at 
 once betray the cloven fcot. His approacliing mar- 
 
 riage was no secret, and for some time, furnished a 
 theme of conversation and country wit. 
 
 Tom had already drank more than usual, and a 
 few extra glasses put him so much off his guard, 
 that they administered the oath which bound him to 
 their cause. 
 
 Sometime after night had fallen they all left the 
 town, and being neighbors, took the road that led 
 to their own townland, but, at a certain cross-road, 
 turned out of the direct way. 
 
 'Fwhere are ye's goin', boys ?' asked Tom, who 
 was not so much elevated as to mistake the road, 
 ' Shure this isn't the way.' 
 
 ' He's in a hurry to his darllnt,' said one. ■ Take 
 id asy, Tom ; many's the day in seven years.' 
 
 ' Aye, faix, an' night too,' said another. 
 
 ' Shure it can't be ye're goin' to do any thing the 
 night, boys,' continued Tom. 
 
 ' An' what iv we have a bit iv a spree r we're the 
 boys that's steel to the back bone !' cried two or 
 three together. 
 
 ' Ye may go then,' said Tom ; Sorra toe I'll go 
 wid ye.' 
 
 ' Arra, wont ye ?' replied his friend Paddy. ' Be 
 all the books that ever was shut an' opened, ye'll 
 never sleep tal we see fwhat stuff ye're med iv. 
 Now turn back, iv 5'e dare.' 
 
 'Iv ye didn't like to be one iv us, fwhat med ye 
 swear, Tom '-' asked one of the men. 
 
 'Swear! — an' did I swear?' said Tom. Shure 
 it's jokin' ye are?' 
 
 ' There's no joke like a true one ; and ye swore 
 without doubt,' replied the same man. 
 
 'That's enough, boys; no goLs' beyant an oath,' 
 returned Tom, and accompanied them in silence. 
 
 'Have a care iv him,' whispered Paddy to the 
 next man. 
 
 ' Never fere ; he'll not part from us alive,' replied 
 the other. 
 
 Surprise, at finding himself thus trepanned, com- 
 pletely sobered Tom ; and after a train of most un- 
 easy reflections, he resolved that this night once 
 over, he never would be in the same situation again. 
 ' I'll do fwhat a man ought,' thought he, ' an' not 
 lave it in any one's power to say I'm a coward.' 
 
 Their first essay, on that night, was at the por- 
 ter's lodge of a gentleman's demesne, where, their 
 scouts informed them, there were only women in 
 the house ; and so little were they expected, that 
 the iron gate was only latched, it not being quite 
 nine o'clock. They had no difficulty in possessing 
 themselves of a gun, the only arms the lodge con- 
 tained. The poor woman was much frightened, 
 and offered them whatever money she had, begging 
 of them to spare her life. 
 
 ' We're no robbers,' one of them replied ; ye may 
 put up yer money i we're dacent boys; sorra hair 
 o' yer head we'll touch ; only give us all the arms.' 
 
 At length they departed, in high glee at their 
 success, and proceeded across the country, to an- 
 other house they had set. But here they entered 
 not so easily. The family were in bed, and the par- 
 ty on the outside had some work ere they forced in 
 the door, and secured two men who were in the 
 house ; but, ere they found the arms, one of the 
 men left to watch on the outside ran in, saj'ing, 
 there were some persons approaching — the night 
 was so dark he could not say how many. Friends 
 thev could not be, as they knew not of any other 
 party out that night ; therefore, there was a general 
 rush to the door. The last man had just gained the 
 outside, and the light of two candles, gleaming 
 through the open door, revealed them to the ap- 
 proaching party, and they plainly heard a voice ex- 
 claim, ' There they are !— there they are ! Fire, 
 boys !' And in an instant the report of more than 
 one musket was heard, followed by a heavy fall and 
 deep groan. The gallant Steel Boys waited not to 
 assist the fallen, but, without delay, escaped favor- 
 ed by darkness. 
 
340 
 
 IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 The police, for suili the other pnrty were, headed the safety of Tom's ncconipliccs than any thing else. I 'What rewaiil have I then for all my laborl' 
 by the "entleman whose lodge had been attacked, 1 'Tom, dear,' ho said, ' it was a sore lot was laid I What reward! a large, comprehensive soul, purged 
 leaving two men to secure the wounded gave instant out for ye, an" ye must go through it. Oh, virra ! | from vulgar fears or prejudices, alilc lo interpret the 
 chase, but in vain. i it's soon for ye to die; but there's no help for it; [ works of man and God. A perpetual spring of fresh 
 
 In tlic mean while, the wounded man, for there any way, ye'U die like a man.' ideas, and the conscious dignity of superior intelli- 
 
 was but one, Avas carried into the house in a state • Och, och ! Ned, dear,' replied the .sufferer, 'must genco. Good HeavensI what other reward can you 
 of insensibility, and various were the comments I leave the world, an' my darlint Mary.' i ask! 
 
 passed on hira. An old woman, holding a candle ; 'Tom, avourneeni mind fwhat I tell ye : the doc- | 'But is it not a reproach upon the economy of prov- 
 
 ovcr his face, exclaimed :— tor says, there's no help for ye in this world ; then idcncc that such a one, who is a mean, dirty fellow, 
 
 'Och, och! but he's the purfy buy !— more was die like a man— don't let anyone be eursin'yer bones should have amassed enough to buy half a nation? 
 
 the pity !-the Lord between us an' harm.' in the ground.' Not the least. He made liimself a mean dirty fellow 
 
 ■Is he kilt out --'asked another. 1 'Fwhy should they be cursin' mc?' demanded ' for that very end. He h.is paid his health, his eon- 
 
 'Onlywounded, I think,' said a policemen; 'he's Tom. . [ science, and his lii.eny for il. Do you envy him his 
 
 be-inning to come to. If he staid quietly at home, ] • F why, wouldn't they Iv ye turn Infonncr-fwhat bargam? Wdl you hang your head in his presence 
 
 thil wouldn't happen him.' 1 good will it do yo, or any one bclongin' f ye ? Och, j because he outshines you in cinipagc and show? Lift 
 
 'Thrueforve sir dear,' replied the old woman; Tom, darlint, don't disgrace yer family an' yer own ! "P y"""- '-row with a noble conhdence, and say to 
 
 . sorra -ood e^-cr cum out iv ni.^d.t-walking. Forrcer bones in the clay. i y"'"'^«'f. 'I ''"™ ""' "'^'''^ ''""««■ ''\ '« ""''' >>« it is 
 
 cair' the youn-sters doesn't think so.' Ills inoili.r made no recpiest, but she pressed his because I have not desired nor sought them; it is be- 
 
 'Och ' God help every poor sinner that must go hand, an.l the young man groaned deeply, hut did not <=^'''^ I P««s««s something better. I have chosen my 
 
 through fwhats allotted 'for him.' said another old reply. Before he spoke agnin.a minister of his church j '"'^ ^ ''"' ^'""'^n' ""l' «""^fi'^'|- ^ 
 
 = came to give him its last rites. 1 The most eharactenstic mark of a great mind is to 
 
 ".»,,.■ 1 ^ i T> i. „..„„;.,i,;,„r v,^w nnvinna nponln :„ n.„npial lire choose somc ouc object, Which it Considers important, 
 
 This doctrine of fatalism IS too prevalent among ' It is astonishing how anxious people, m genei at, are .,.,•., u it t<- • 
 
 , <• .u .„ „„.,,.„„r,;^.,.o ho.i no,v= T.,r,r Mirv Pnllins wn« and pursuc that object through life. If we expect the 
 
 thelower orders of our country ; and one of the to communicate had news. ioor M.iry l^ollins was, i j h f 
 
 policemen was about to show the error of it, when early that day, abruptly informed her betrothed was 
 the wounded man, slowly uiidosing his eyes, mur- killed ; and, for hours, she was attacked by fainting 
 
 , j fits. Next morning when it seemed necessary to pre- 
 
 "^Mother ayourneen! Mary, darlint ! fwhere am serve her life, her parents reluctantly consented that 
 I >-fwhat happened me at all ? Mary, asthore ma- she should see Tom ; but they bad not gone more than 
 cHree ' don't ery-I won't go from ;-e ; we'll be ' '>«'f-«-''y '^ "'« town, when they met bis remains con- 
 marret the morr'a, a-rah, girl. Och ! Jhe pain about keying to his father's house. He had died the evening pens singularly enough ,hat two vcsse s of greater 
 . o o , ,. ., i before, and, much to his friends' satisfaction, carried length and more remarkable character, have been ad- 
 
 mv heart ' and feebly putting his hand on ms side, ' ' „, , i ■ . , • ■ t ■ i • u > 
 
 mj iK-aii, . J 1 D , j|^^ secret of his accomplices to the grave. The he.irt- , vancing to compleiion m Liverpool without the gerer- 
 
 he remained sUent. „ ,, , .., rendini; scene that followed may be supposed. Poor al public being even cognizant of their existence. These 
 
 The Avoman were greatly affected, and, with | s ■' . . V . . . . 
 
 streaming eyes, frequently exclaimed, ' Wirra strua !' 
 The men, albeit unused to the meltin: 
 
 purchase we must pay the price. 
 
 New Vessels Longer than the Levjathan. — 
 While public attention has been attracted so strongly 
 by the unusual dimensions of the Leviathan, that the 
 
 ime of that vessel is in every body's mouth, it liap- 
 
 seen to draw the backs of their hands across their 
 eyes 
 
 The policemen endeavored to moralize on the oc- 
 currence, and point out the evils that this system of 
 lawlessness brought on families and the country 
 generally. But they talked to the winds ; for the 
 ■women, though they seemed to assent, saying: — 
 
 'Thrue for ye, sir,' and 'Ne'er a word of lie in 
 it,' knew not well what they said, but constantly 
 interrupted them thus : ' Oh ! wirra ! wirra ! God 
 look down on your poor mother this night, but it's 
 she has the sore heart afore her ! and the little girl, 
 fwhafU she do : .'t .cr ye ": Och, hone ! The Lord 
 purtect all belongin' to us.' 
 
 It was a considerable time before the party return- 
 ed from the pursuit, and unsuccessful. On the first 
 appearance of day-light, the wounded man was con- 
 veyed, on a car, to the next town, for the benefit of 
 medical assistance. 
 
 The magistrate vainly endeavored to make him 
 confess who were his accomplices. But, during the 
 intervals of consciousness, the poor young man ut- 
 tered only lamentations, calling on his mother and 
 Mar)', pleading with them, in the most heart-felt 
 tones, not to forsake him. 
 
 The opinion of the medical man was decidedly 
 unfavorable ; the wound he pronounced mortal, and 
 that the patient could not survive many hours. 
 
 It is to be supposed the men who were poor Tom's 
 companions gave information to his family of what 
 had occurred ; for early in the day his mother and 
 brother made application to see him. That the in- 
 terview was a most affecting one, may be imagined ; 
 but my informant knew no more of it than that 
 Tom bitterly lamented his folly in being tempted to 
 drink so much ; for if he had been sober he never 
 ■would have joined the steel boys. And the old man 
 added : — 
 
 ' Och I my curse on the fwhiskey ! it's it kilt him 
 out an' out.' 
 
 I afterwards learned, from another person, that 
 his poor mother was like one distracted, and unable 
 to speak or weep, sat ■ivith his hand in hers the 
 image of despair. After the first ebullition of feel- 
 ing was past, the brother appeared to think more of 
 
 Mary's hopes of happiness were buried with him, on 
 
 J i the day that was to have been her bridal one. She 
 
 ood, were "J , , , , . .. , 
 
 never held up her head, and, in a very short time, fol- 
 lowed him. 
 
 Her's was the interment I witnessed in the lonely 
 church-yard. 
 
 PHILOSOPHY AND CONSISTENCY. 
 
 Among all the excellent things which Mrs. Bar- 
 bauld has written, she never penned any thing better 
 than her essay on the incons-isteney of human expecta- 
 tions; it is full of sound philosophy. Every thing, says 
 she, is marked at a settled price. Our time, our labor, 
 our ingenuity, is so much ready money which we are 
 
 vessels are each seven hundred feet long. They have 
 been constructed by Messrs Vernon & Son, from the 
 Oriental Inland Steam Company, and are intended for 
 the navigation of the Indian rivers. The purpose of 
 their peculiar features of construction, is to enable a 
 large cargo to be carried at a good rate of speed upon 
 a light draught of water. The great rivers of India, 
 though penetrating far into the interior, and though 
 containing lurge volumes of water, are, nevertheless, 
 shallow during the dry season. The vessels navigming 
 them must therefore float very light, and they must 
 have displacement enough to carry a good cargo. They 
 must have strength enough not to sutler injury if they 
 should get aground, and they must present such little 
 resistance to the water as to be able to achieve a satis- 
 
 to lay out to the best advantage. Examine, compare, f^^.^^,.^ ^^,,^ ^f ^^^^^^^^^ „„^i„^^ „^^ ^^^^^^ ^^ 
 
 choose, reject, but stand to your own judgment, and do 
 not, like children, when you have purchased one thing, 
 repine that you do not possess another, which you 
 would not fiurchase. Would you be rich? Do you 
 think that the single point worth sacrificing every thing 
 else to? You may then be rich. Thousands have be- 
 come so from the lowest beginnings by toil, and dili- 
 gence, and attention to the minutest articles of expense 
 and profit. But you must give up the pleasures of 
 leisure, of an unembarrassed mind, and of a free un- 
 suspicious temper. You must leam to do hard, if not 
 unjust things, and as for the embarras'sment of a deli- 
 cate and ingenuous spirit, it is necessary for you to 
 get rid of it as fast as possible. You must not stop to 
 enlarge your mind, polish your taste, or refine your 
 sentiments, but must keep on in one beaten track, 
 without turning aside to the right hand or to the left. 
 
 'But,' you sny, "I cannot submit to drudgery like 
 this; I feel a spirit above it.' 
 
 'Tis well; be above it then; only do not repine be 
 cause you are not rich. 
 
 Is knowledge the pearl of price in your estimation! 
 That too may be purchased by steady application, and 
 long, solitary hours of study and reflection. 
 
 'But,' says the man of letters, 'what a hardship is it, 
 that many an illiterate fellow, who cannot construe the 
 motto on his coach, shall raise a fortune, .ind make a 
 figure, while I possess not the common necessaries of 
 life.' 
 
 Was it for fortune, then, that you grew pale over 
 the midnight lamp, and gave the sprightly years of 
 youth to study and reflection? You then have mis- 
 taken your path, and ill-employed your industry. 
 
 these indications are admirably fulfilled in these ves- 
 sels. 
 
 The Power op Vision.— A shepherd upon one of 
 the mountains in Cumberland, was suddenly enveloped 
 with a thick fog or mist, through which every object 
 appeared so greatly increased in magnitude, that he 
 no longer knew where he was. In that state of con- 
 fusion he wandered in search of some known object by 
 which he might direct his future steps. Chance at 
 last brought the lost shepherd within sight of what he 
 supposed to be a very large mansion, which he did not 
 rememper to have seen before ; but on entering this 
 visionary casile to enquire his way home, he found it 
 inhabited by his own family. 
 
 It was nothing more than his own cottage But his 
 organs or sight had so far misled his mental facaliies, 
 that some little time clap>ed before he could be con- 
 vinced that he saw real objects. Instances of the same 
 kind of illusion, though not to the same degree, are 
 not unfrequent in these mountainous regions. From 
 these ctfects of vision it is evident that the pupil and 
 the picture of an object within the eye, dilate at the 
 same time. 
 
 'You have only yourself to please,' said a married 
 friend to an old bachelor. 'True,' replied he, but you 
 cannot tell what a difficult task I find it.' 
 
 As we approve of a youth that has something of the 
 old man in him, so we are no less pleased with an old 
 m an that has something of the youth. 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 841 
 
 Strancally Castle, the suhject of the above sketch, 
 and residence of John Keily, Esq., is beautifully situ- 
 ated on the river Blackwater, about five miles from the 
 to^vn of Tallow and seven from Youghal. It is a 
 modem structure, built in the Gothic style, from the 
 design of Mr. G. R. Payne, of Cork. Prom the porch 
 front, which is high and tastily executed, may be seen 
 the termination of the navigable river Bride. It af- 
 fords a pleasing and never ending scene of countless 
 market boats, passing and repassing between the above 
 mentioned towns; underneath the castle there is both 
 shelter and anchorage for ships of a heavy burthen, 
 and from the conservatory side may be seen the river, 
 as far as old Strancally Castle, whose once massive 
 walls have by the hand of time, been humble and ce- 
 mented with its rocky base, and forms beneath the 
 water's surface a most cxtroardinary and impenetrable 
 mass, although presenting at present little more than 
 the traces of its former site. Leaving ihe 'Old Castle,' 
 and passing up the several windings of the river, no 
 place can boast of more variety or be more truly pic- 
 turesque than the irregular embrasure towers and 
 other ornamental parts of the new edifice, crowning 
 the foliage of an apparently endless forest, which on 
 the other side a still more varied scene of wild land- 
 scape terminates with the park and mansion of H. V. 
 Stuart, Esq., opposite which is Camphier House, in 
 the cottage style, and a little further on the town of 
 Cappoquin. E. H. 
 
 ADVANTAGES AND DISADVANTAGES OF 
 MATRIMONY. 
 
 The following extract from a latiu work, published 
 three or four hundred years since, on a similar suhject, 
 might not prove uninteresting to our readers. It is en- 
 titled, ' Jacobus de Voragine's twelve Motions to miti- 
 gate the Mi>^ery of Marriage. 
 
 1. Hast thou money ? You have one to keep and 
 increase it. 
 
 2. Hast thou none 'i Thou hast one to help thee to 
 get it. 
 
 3. Art in prosperity? Thy happiness is doubled. 
 
 4. Art in adversity ? She will comfort — assist to 
 bear a part ef the burthen, to make it more tolerable. 
 
 5. Art at home ? She'll drive away melancholy ? 
 
 6. Art abroad 1 She looks after thee going from 
 home, wishes for thee in thy absence, and joyfully wel- 
 comes thy return. 
 
 7. There's nothing dcliaht.some without society ; no 
 sojiety so iwjct as marriage. 
 
 STRANCALLY CASTLE. 
 
 8. The band of conjugal love is adamantine. 
 
 9. The sweet company of kinsmen increaseth ; the 
 number of parents is doubled, of mothers, sisters, and 
 nephews. 
 
 10. Thou art made a father by a fair and happy is- 
 sue. 
 
 11. Moses curseth the barrenness of matrimony; 
 how much more a single life. 
 
 12. If nature escapes not punishment, surely thy 
 will shall not avoid it. 
 
 AN ANTIPABODIA. 
 
 1. Hast thou means ? Thou hast one to spend it. 
 
 2. Hast thou none ? Thy beggary is increased. 
 
 3. Art in prosperity ? Thy happiness is ended. 
 
 4. Art in adversity ■? Like Joli's wife she'll aggra- 
 vate thy misery, vex thy soul, and make thy burthen 
 intolerable. 
 
 5. Art at home 1 She'll scold you out of doors. 
 
 6. Art abroad ? If thou be wise keep thee so ; 
 she'll perhaps graft horns in thy absence, and scold on 
 thee coming home. 
 
 7. Nothing gives more content than solitariness ; no 
 solitariness like a single life. 
 
 8. The band of matrimony is adamantine; no hopes 
 of losing it — thou art undone. 
 
 9. Thy number increaseth ; Ihou art devoured by 
 thy wife's friends. 
 
 10. Thou art made a cornuto by on unchaste wife ; 
 and shall bring up other folks children instead of thine 
 own. 
 
 11. Paul commends marriage ; yet prefers a single 
 life. 
 
 12. Is marriage honorable ? what an immortal cro\vn 
 belongs to virginity ! 
 
 PARALLEL OF THE SEXES. 
 
 Man is strong — Woman is beautiful. 
 • Man is daring and confident — Woman is diffident 
 and unassuming. 
 
 Man is great in action — Woman in suffering. 
 
 Man shines abroad— Wom.an at home. 
 
 Man talks to coiniiicc — Woman to persuade and 
 plea,sc. 
 
 Man has a rugged heart — Woman a soft and tender 
 one. 
 
 Man prevents misery — Woman relieves it. 
 
 Man has science— Women taste. 
 
 Man ha.s judgment— Woman sensi)iility. 
 
 Man is a being of justice — Woman of mercy. 
 
 Highland Heroism.— Roderick Mackenzie, ft 
 young gentleman of the north of Scotland, nearly of 
 the same age with Prince Charles, and who strongly 
 resembled him in person, was one of the many who 
 knew of the Pretender's retreats, while the British gov- 
 ernment set a price upon his head, and the British sol- 
 diers hunted him through the realms of his fathers, 
 and he was one of the few who were permitted to con - 
 tinue in his train, and who assisted in his numerous 
 escapes. One day while the prince was sitting with 
 his little band of faithful friends, in a highland cottage, 
 the alarm was given that troops were closing around 
 it. Escape was impossible, but he was forcibly carried 
 by the party into a hiding place, and young Macken- 
 zie remained firm in his stead. When the soldiers had 
 hurst the door, he rose, and walked calmly up to them, 
 saying : 
 
 ' I know whom you want — there — stab the son of 
 your King !' and he threw his plaid olf his breast. 
 
 Their swords were instantly througli his gallant 
 heart ! They hacked off his head, threw it into a 
 sack, and setoff to present it, a meet and acceptable 
 offering to their Duke. At Edinburgh, it wa.s thought 
 proper to ascertain that it was really the prince's head, 
 and Robert Morrison, his barber was sent for to iden- 
 tify it. Fainting with hon-or, the poor man was shown 
 this shocking spectacle. After examining it, he became 
 satisfied, that it was not the head of his master ; butho 
 had the presence of mind to conceal his feelings, and 
 said, that although he was not able to swear to the 
 identity of the head, in that situation, the resemblance 
 was so strong, no person could doubt that it was the 
 head of Prince Charles. This evidence satisfied the 
 butchers for the ti.Tie ; and, the fury of the pursuit 
 abating, the prince escaped to France. What his feel- 
 ings were on returning from his hiding place in the 
 hut, and finding the mangled body of his friend, gen- 
 erous hearts may imagine, but few would be able to 
 describe. 
 
 IIocseTlies. — These troublesome little insects may- 
 be effectually destroyed without the use of poison. 
 Take half a spoonful of black pejiper irt powder, one 
 tenspoonful of brown sugar and one tablespoonful of 
 cream ; mix litem well together, and place them in the 
 room on a jdnte, where the flies are troublesome, and 
 they will soon disappear. 
 
 Promises are blossoms, but deeds are the fruit. 
 
$4^ 
 
 IRISH MISCELLAxNV. 
 
 POPLAR LEGENDS OF THE SOUTHi | 
 
 No II. 
 
 A Legend of BInrncy. | 
 
 'Whv, thin, ye tell me you never heard tell o' the | 
 famous Castle o' Blarney, the town ittelt", or any of ] 
 the fine sights about it,' says Paddy O'Callughan, with 
 a look of surprise, at the extreme ignoraiiee of his 
 componions, seated snug and suathu, after dinner, lic- 
 forc a line lire in the servant's hall of ii wealthy squire 
 in the north of England, 'never heard o' the Castle o' 
 Blarney^ Meilla a niurther, wislia may be so; why, 
 thin, I thought, sartcn sure all the world heard o' the 
 place; the groves so eliarming — the sweet, silent 
 streams — the grottos — the rock clo^e, and the witches' 
 Bt«in o' Blarney, not forgetting the lake, 
 •\Vitl» the boat on. 
 
 So cttlm to tloiit on,' 
 a lookin down on the fishes as they sport along. Sure 
 I'd be tired before I'd be half done, if I was to give a 
 description av it; yc should go there yourselves, and 
 take a day or two to it, you should, indeed, — for, as I 
 said, ther's a world o' fine things to be seen in Blar- 
 ney. Well, I'm going to tell you a story about the 
 castle or the manshin, that's where the ould Macs used 
 to live long ago, an sure you don't know who they 
 were, small blame to you, but that's no mutter, 'tis 
 about the manshin, as I say, all the same as the ca»tle, 
 stuck up to it, as may be the wings of their house, (as 
 you call 'im,} make part o' the court itself. Well, 
 you know the bearings of the case as well as myself, 
 now. Easy awhile, till I tell ye: — There was a great 
 man there last summer, from a near these parts, as 1 
 could hear from a sisther's sun o' mine, who came up 
 here from Lunun, where he was at work, to sec me, 
 why; thin, he tould me 'this gentleman come all the 
 ways from Scotland to see Blarney;' so you see he was 
 curis to see it. Well, a great man he was, he the 
 powers, as Jim toald me, (that's my sister's sun,) an 
 a hetfl and a foot to boot. He wint to see the cjstle, 
 an the town, ao the lake, an all the fine sights, an sure 
 enough, he was greatly diverted and wonderfully 
 pleased wid all he seen, no doubt. An he wint to the 
 top of the castle, an he seen where 
 
 •Oliver Cromwell, 
 
 He did it pom well, 
 And made a great brach in the battlements.' 
 There he seen where Oliver hot the castle a fair clout 
 ov a cannon ball, from a hill opposite, and the iron 
 strap put there to keep the stones together, for they 
 got a great shake be rason of the ball not haven far to 
 travel, you see. Why, thin, the identical stone the 
 ball hit, that's the Blarney stone, as they call it, that 
 if any ore kisses, he'll be sure to have a sweet tongne 
 all the dear days of his life; that is, he'll h.ive plinly o' 
 the plain maurh' on the top ov it. a.s they say in Ire- 
 land. Well, he walked about on the lop ov the castle 
 for some time, with his stick in his hand, taken a fine 
 Tiew for himself of the country round, from it, for it's 
 murtherin high, yon see; so as that the highest tree 
 does not reach halfway up the walls, no indeed. Why, 
 thin, he wint down be the dark stairs, and faix, it give 
 him enough to do, that same, cause of their be'n very 
 narrow and slippery for stones, an his havin a lame 
 foot, an be'n an ungainly sort of a man that way in 
 himself. Nevertheless, he was mighty courageous an 
 very eager to see everything curiz, that wa-s to be seen. 
 He wint into the Earl of Clancarihyts room, an its no 
 easy matther to get there, as you'd know if you knew 
 the castle as well as myself. Well, he got into it some 
 way or other, an be see it, an he axed a great many 
 questshins about it, and he sec the nails that held the 
 velvet covering the walls, the ould people must be 
 very grand, long ago, you'll think, an to have velvet 
 a papcrin their walls. Why, thin, so they had, for you 
 can see to this day the little bits of velvet a hanging to 
 the nails, is indeed; sure his honor axed Jim to draw 
 out one av uni, till he'd look at it, so he did, an he ad- 
 mired greatly to see the bit o' velvet a hanging to it. 
 He was very curis in other rispects about the castle, an 
 axed Jim a power of queslshions, an fai.x, answered 
 the half ov nm himself, he was so knowledgable a man 
 aboat all concarning ould btiildings, an the good times 
 
 long ago. Well, he wint ont o' the cattle, and down 
 to see the caves in the prison, and have n view of the 
 castle from the west side, for 'tis from that side it looks 
 best; an, my dear life, all his coropanv kept follin him, 
 one here, an another there, admiring at everything 
 But the ould gentleman himself kept close to Jim, put- 
 tin qucstshions to him about what he knew and heard 
 o' the place. Why, thin, they came into the roek- 
 dose to sec it, an' 'lis a very contrary sort o' spot that 
 you'd go asthray in, in a minute, between the onguinly 
 trees, an the rocks, and the sirpiniine walks av it, so 
 you would; an, sure enough, the company, one here; 
 an another there, as lluir curiosity drove um, not 
 mindin the guide, but follying llieir own inelinashions, 
 soon got scattered about the place, and lost Jim nn the 
 poet, who, havm seen everything worth while left the 
 close, an walked on 'twards the castle agin. Why, 
 thin, whin his honor got opposite the manshin, he 
 stops, and he ses to Jim — 
 
 Mames,' says he, ivs he was a mighty civil sort av a 
 gentleman that was in himself, 'James,' says ho to my 
 sisther's sun, 'I spose that's a ruin many a day now?" 
 
 'Wisha, faix, thin it isn't, nor long at all, at all, so 
 it ain'r; for 'twas the priscnt man threw it down, sir, 
 for a dirty trille o' lucre, not worth the spakin about; 
 bad manners to him.' 
 
 'Oh, dear,' says the ould gentleman, clapping his 
 hands, 'what could ha bewitched him to do the like? 
 Oh, my! 
 
 'I d'know; a( it were not for the lucre, it must be 
 the spirit he seen in it, that made him do it.' 
 
 'A spirit, ' says his honor. 
 
 'Is, indeed, sir,' s.iys Jim; 'a ghost he met in the 
 king o' Sweeden's room; there is the windey av it, 
 right fornentin you. (there it is, and the room idin it 
 was a tine spasliis one too. I was often in it; they 
 called it the king o' Sweeden's room, afiher the king 
 that dined in it an a time, sir.' 
 
 The king o' Sweedtn,' says his honor, 'and did he 
 dine in it. ayea?' 
 
 'F..ix, thin he did,' ses Jim, 'an he come all the way 
 from Sweeden to dine at Blarney Castle, never a one 
 av him but did,' says Jim. 
 
 'An do you give belief to that, James?' ses he. 
 
 'Surely,' says Jim, or how would it come to be called 
 the King of Sweeden's room?' 
 
 'Be gosh, that's true,' ses his honor. 
 
 'True, as your stannin there,' ses Jim. 
 
 'The king o' Sweeden, my dear,' says he. 
 
 'The king, and nobody else, make sure av it,' ses 
 my sisther's sun. 
 
 'Wisha, faix, may be so,' ses he. 
 
 •Devil a doubt of it,' says Jim. 
 
 'Ecod, then, he come a good way to see the groves 
 o' Blarney,' ses he. 
 
 'I s'pose he did,' ses Jim, 'but people come from 
 furren parts to sec the same, I can tell yer honor.' 
 
 'Why, thin, will you point out whore it was to me?' 
 ses he. 
 
 'Jim did, and showed him the dimenshions. 
 
 'By gosh, thin, it must be a line room; or, I see,' 
 scj he, 'an worthy to dine a king in,' ses he. 
 
 'You may say that,' ses Jim.' 
 
 'Many's the fine ould nn.shicnt prince feasted in it, 
 in the good times; is faix, good as ever the king o' 
 Sweeden was for the life of him, dined there, I'd make 
 bould to tell you — an many's the fine lady an gentle- 
 man 'stirred the foot' to the rnosic of the harp (for 
 twas that insthrimint we used long ago,) yer honor. 
 But no matter, thim times arc gone — oui glory is gone 
 — an that av the manshiii av Blarney Castle to boot!' 
 
 'Well, well,' says his honor, ses he, 'there's no help 
 for those things, James; they threw down a site ov old 
 costles and fine places m my country — dismantled and 
 disordered um — bad luck to um; so, you see 'tisn't 
 jou have a story to tell. But,' ses he, sitten down 
 an beckonin to Jim to do the same be him, 'come,' ses 
 he, 'on tell me something about the ghost that struck 
 such fear into that 'goth' of a man, as I cant help call- 
 ing of him that threw down that fine old relic ov a 
 place.' 
 
 'Tis well you call him, or the likes of him,' ses Jim, 
 
 I 'I sposo that word 'gntli' have a very ondacent signifi' 
 ( ashion in the Scotch tongue.' 
 
 'You may bible it,' says his honor, that any man in 
 
 i my country would he ashamed av called lie it.' 
 
 'Why, then,' ses Jim, 'more luck to your honor, to 
 
 I bring it over to Ireland with you, for we wanted it 
 
 ! badly, or worse for a friend o' mine, to call him by — 
 that deserves the title well; hut uo maihcr, the shame 
 ov his work will follow him, an maybe that's enough.' 
 'Quite enough,' ses the gentleman, ses he, 'and now 
 for the story, James, fore the company come upon 
 us.' 
 
 'Very well, yor, honor shall have it as I heard it 
 from my aunt. Nance Calhighun, that was thro-servant 
 in the house, and knew a deal of the goings on, and 
 no donbt to he able to gi' me a correct account; sure 
 she bard the masther, himself tell every word av it. 
 
 ' >> by, thin, 'iwas on a Satlmrday niglit, av all 
 nights in the year, and the masthur come from Cork, 
 afther selling some o' the timber there; for he was be- 
 ginning the the work o' disthruction aboct this lime. 
 Why, thin, he dismounted from his horse, an he very 
 wet all over, be raison ov a great deal of rain that fell 
 (lurin the day, an in, my dear life, he walks to the king 
 o' Sweeden's room, and sits down to the fire, blazin 
 fine, to dry himself. Why, thin, he requested ov the 
 sarvents to bring him his dinner — they did — and he 
 dined there, and took a couple o' tumblers, or may be 
 more, very hearty; an bcin fttigucd, he lay down upon 
 the chairs, (a custom of his,) to take a sauvaunecn . 
 after his meal. Well, he slept very sound and very 
 long, and by gosh, they were loath to wake him; but 
 they left his man, Tady Hogarty, up be the fire in the 
 servant's hall, if he should call or want any thing — 
 cause, your honor, all the bells in the house rung in 
 that part — an faix, the other servants went to bed. 
 Very well, the masther slept mighty sound till he 
 woke, just twelve be the castle clock, and shakin him- 
 self, he laid hould o' the bell to give it a pull for Tody. 
 Why, thin, he had his hand on the bell-rope, when he 
 heard a step on the siair, an lookin over agin him to 
 the door, who should he see enterin the room for him, 
 but a tall, fine; grand-lookin ould gentleman av a man 
 dressed in a shuit of black clothes, ov the ould cut, 
 with a pouthcred wig on his head, and a goold-headed 
 cane in his fist. When he come into the room, which 
 he did, very robuslic, as if 'twas his own, (an sui^ it 
 was,) he shut the door afiher him as he found it, an 
 givin a nod to the masther, (lookin migh;y bewildered 
 over b« the fire-place, with the bell-handle in his hand, 
 still,) he walked very conscquenttd, straight ahead, 
 over to the windees fornentin him, and looked out (or 
 a while on the plain below him. Well, my dear life, 
 when he sees, for be could not help seein, all the fine 
 threes cut down, an sthrcwed on the ground, he shook 
 his head, and tumin round to the masther, 'cock -a- 
 northa in the corner,) the earl, (for 'twas the Eorl of 
 Clancarty himself.) give him a bitther look that made 
 his very heart's blood run coulil, an his body to trim- 
 ble like one in the aigey, for the bare fright. He thin 
 pointed with his goold headed stick to the plain, draw- 
 ing his attcnshin, ture, to the threes he destroyed 
 there, all the while starin at him, an shakin his head. 
 Why, thin, the ould man stood this way a spell, and 
 at long last he began to move over to the fire-place, 
 with his stick over head, an his eyes roulin and fierce 
 enough to take the comple.xshin aft' any man- Well, 
 while you'd be saying 'be your leave,' he stood iden 
 arms lenth o' the master, ready to slain him, Lord save 
 us! Och, ihe masther give himself up for lost, and the 
 passpara-^bin a flowin from him, like a well, whin he 
 seen his condition; but t'was nothing 'till the earl giv'n 
 a mighty stamp on the floor, that made it shake agin, 
 .so as to floor the masther, with the strength of it — be 
 the powers, down he came, dead as a door nail; bell- 
 rope, wires, an all, roulin topsy turvey under the chairs 
 he was elecpin on; table, decanters, mogs an jugs 
 down a tap ov him — there he lay in a dead faint, snug 
 and snnrtha, under urn all. Well, bey.ant that he 
 coalun't tell what became o' the Earl Clancarthy, 
 whether he remained afther the racket, or walked aff 
 whin he had his revingeov him, rwhat, he could not 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 343 
 
 tell; but no matter, he got enonjih to remember nil the 
 dcnr ilavs of his life, tho' there wasn't a word bemno 
 um, only by siiins. Well, there he liy on his hard 
 bed, an all the racket over him, as I said, an he was 
 warm enough, I'll be bound, bo raisin av his bein in a 
 high fever from the Ihraiimcnt he got. Very well, 
 there he lay till mornin bre:ik, ilU one o' the sarvenis, 
 Judy Casey, be name, eome into the room to clane it; 
 and whin she found himself under all tho furniture, an 
 in the state he was in, she got a great fright, no doubt, 
 bein a narvous, fritjhtful young woman, that way in 
 herself; she gave a biilher scream, (whin she see him 
 for dead, as she thought,) that brought all the other 
 servants a runnin up to the king's room, to see what 
 'twas all about. Why, thin, they rubbed him all over 
 wid whiskey, an got a drop, he a great deal to do, 
 down his throat; an at long lust he give signs of the 
 life in him, an come to himself again. But he was 
 very weak for a long time afiher, on account av the 
 fright, and the cruel usage he got fiom the Earl Clan 
 carthy's ghost; an that day night he was removed to a 
 neighbor's house, for he swore he'd never u'd give an- 
 other night in the castle — an sure he didn't, for 'iwas 
 thrown down be his orders soon afiher, so it was; an 
 there's my story for you, an the raisin, they say, the 
 manshin was deslhroyed, sir. But indeed, I hear some 
 people, knowledgable people, too, and those that come 
 from the city to see the place, say, 'twas all in my eye 
 about the ghost, but that the masther give it out as 
 excuse for what he done. Well, bless me, af I know 
 which story to give belief to, but I think 'twas a dirty, 
 onnalhural thing to spile the pride o' Blarney, even af 
 it was through the fear atself.' 
 
 'I concur in yer apinion, James,' ses the gentleman, 
 'an I say it here an above boord,' ses he, hitten his 
 stick agin the ground, 'an I'm ashamed of him for the 
 like,' ses he. Be this time the company were comin 
 up to him. 'I thank you for your story, an' you'll ac- 
 cept o' this trifle for yer civility, handin him a crown 
 piece, 'an I'm indebted to you in the bargain, so I 
 am.' 
 
 'Don't minshin a word about it, yer honor,' ses Jim, 
 'I'd do more than that to sarvc yer honor, so I would; 
 but there's one favor I'd be aftlier axin yer honor.' 
 
 'Why, thin, what's th.it?' ses he. 
 
 Tex, just thin, just yer name, yer honor, av you 
 please, for I intinds, this very identical evenin, af I'm 
 a livin man to do it, to dhrink your honor's health 
 over yonder, in the village, that I mi^hn't do an ill 
 turn, bat I do.' 
 
 'Why, thin, 'tis a queer name they calls me by, Jim, 
 ses his honor, '.in I'll tell it to you.' 
 
 'Af yer honor pleases.' 
 
 'Why, thin, they call me the 'Great Unknown' now.' 
 
 'Great Unknown, by gor, then, it's an odd name, no 
 doubt,' sea Jim. 
 
 'Isn't it, now?' se-. his honor. 
 
 'Devil a doubt av it,' ses Jim. 'Great Unknown, 
 mauriagh. I'd make bould to ask what country yer 
 honor come from.' 
 
 'I'll tell you that, too, Jim,' ses he, 'from Scotland, 
 thin, all the ways.' 
 
 'Is, so I thought,' says Jim. 'I spose jour family 
 are a sthrong facshin over there, but I never heard o' 
 one o' your name before now; ro matther, yer dacent 
 people, I make no doubt, in your own country; an 
 more luck to you an )Ours, every day yon rises, I say, 
 an God speed you on yer road, yer honor, an I'm 
 obleeged to you.' 
 
 'By this time his honor was in the carriage, an all 
 the company wid him, and never a one of him hut 
 kissed hands to my sisther's son, at his goin; an aff 
 they wint, himself an his company, very well pleased 
 with all they see, and the attenshin Jim ped um. So 
 there's what I had to tell yon, genteels, about Blarney, 
 that you never heard l)efore, an how do you like my 
 story, now?" says Paddy, addressing his company, 
 when he had finished. 
 
 They all, indeed, I am happy to inform the reader, 
 expressed themselves much pleased with it, and one 
 from among them, the builer, a ehiel from the land o' 
 cakes, proposed the health of Mr. Patrick O'Calla- 
 
 ghan, which was received with great applause; and 
 Paddy returned thanks in neat words, on the occasion. 
 I was near forgetting, though, to inform tho reader, 
 that the butler, in proposing the health of Mr. O'Cal 
 laghan, intimated to the »'ompany that ho knew who 
 Mr. Great Unknown was very well, (the person al- 
 luded to in the tale,) and begged leave to thank our 
 friend for the kind manner in which ho had spoken of 
 his countryman. 
 
 STAGE COACHES 
 
 IN 1742. 
 To the Editor of the Dublin Penny Journal. 
 
 Sir — If history be an old alman.ic, then an old al- 
 m.tnac is history; and a curious feature in the historj' 
 of civilization in Ireland, I now olfer to you, taken 
 from one of those rare annuals, imprinted in Dublin, 
 for the year 1 742. 
 
 'The Athlone Stage Coach sets up with James 
 Vaughn, in New Clinrcb street, facing Tom of Lin- 
 coln. Sets out from Dublin on Thursday morning, at 
 7 in the Winter, and 8 in the Summer; comes in on 
 Tuesday, between 6 and 7 at night. Rate for each 
 person, 13s. — which is all forfeited, unless the person 
 comes at the time appointed; but the money will be 
 returned if the undertakers [ominous determination!] 
 happen to get another customer.' 
 
 'The Belfast Stage Coach sets up with James 
 Smith, at the Unicorn, in Capel street. Sets out from 
 Dublin every Monday, and from Belfast every Thurs- 
 day. In Winter, it takes three days, and leaves Dub- 
 lin at 8, and Belfast at seven the morning. In Sum- 
 mer it will take only two days, and set out from each 
 place about 6 in the morning. This Coach will always 
 run with 6 able horses.' 
 
 'The Kilkenny Stage Coach sets up with the 
 Widow Walsh, at the Coach and Horses, in George's 
 lane, [now South Great George's street.] Sets out in 
 Summer and Winter, at 6 in the morning, on Mon- 
 days and Thursdays; comes in on Tuesdays and Fri- 
 days. To Naas, 4s.; to Kilcullen Bridge, 5s. 5d.; and 
 so on; To Kilkenny 13s. 
 
 'The KiNNEGAD Stage Coach takes in passengers 
 at Henry Halls, grocer, Smithfield. Sets out in the 
 AVintcr at 8 in the morning on Wednesday and Satur- 
 day; returns on Mondays and Fridays — rate 6s. 6d.' 
 
 'The Newrt Stage Coach sets up with James Bell, 
 at the Bunch of Grapes, facing the Linen Hall. Sets 
 out in Winter at 8 in the morning on Friday, and re- 
 turns on Tuesday. Rate, to Drogheda, where it stops 
 the first ntght, 5s. 5d., and to Newry. 13s. In the 
 Summer it goes out twice a week, viz,: On Tuesday 
 and Saturday, and returns on Monday and Friday.' 
 
 The Drogheda Stage Landau sets up with Thomas 
 Robinson, at the Boot Inn, Bolton street. Sets out 
 on Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday, at 9; comes in 
 Monday, Wednesday, and Friday.' 
 
 'The Dublin Ferry Boat plies in the Winter from 
 Daylight till 9 at night.' 
 
 This Ferry was exactly where Carlisle Bridge now 
 stands; but then the ajsproach to it from the College 
 was through one of the most barbarous and cut-throat 
 lanes possible; 1 think it was called College lane. I 
 have touched, with my hands extended, the houses on 
 each side. 
 
 It is extraordinary that there was no Stage Coach to 
 Cork, Waterford, or Limerick. In fact, above forty 
 years subsequent, there were none to any of these 
 towns, and travellers were obliged to hire a chaise for 
 the whole way, for there was not even posting. I re- 
 member in the year 1784, some friends who had to 
 travel from Dublin to Cork, and they had to hire a 
 chaise and pair to fetch them; the price was five guin- 
 eas, and they took the same horses the whole way, and 
 arrived on the fifth day at their destination. The same 
 year I travelled with my family, and w-c had to take 
 the chaise the whole way to Waterford, wliich we 
 reached at two o'clock on the third day, and were de- 
 layed at the ferry (for there was no bridge,) for nearly 
 two hours; it took thirty-five minutes to cross in the 
 horse boat, and about twenty-five in what was called 
 
 the light boat; two or throe men at each oar — tho men 
 ■standing, and rowing in tho eddy tide for about threo 
 hundred taking wiiat they called mud-strokes, and 
 then, when so far above the opposite ferry, calculating 
 'hat tho rapid tide would bring them right to the other 
 slip, which, if they overshot, as was often the ease, the 
 labor was most severe to pull uj) again. 
 
 Does any one remember Doniiniok Roche and his 
 llrogheda Coach? It would make a capital carica- 
 ture! It started — oh! inappropriate word, — at 9, and 
 reached Drogheda at 4. I think I see him, as he 
 drove me in 1788; ho had a v/ig, at all variance with a 
 •larvio's true Caxon, and yet it was not a lawyer's, nor 
 a bishop's — it was a 'sui-generis' concern. He had a. 
 blue coat, a red waistcoat over a pot-belly, leather 
 breeches, blue stockings, and buckles in his shoes. 
 Dominiek was the proprietor as well as driver of the 
 above coach, which was thickly studded with brass 
 nails, like a hair-bottom chair. The machine had two 
 iron affairs called springs, but nearly perpendicular, 
 and searcely flexible. These were in front, but be- 
 hind, there were two stout posts and chains, and woe 
 be to the person whose teeth were loose! He stopped 
 at the Black Bull — where is that now? — within five 
 miles I think, of Dublin, for nearly an hour; then at 
 Swords, and at the Man of war for about one hour and 
 a half He had the same horses to the latter place, 
 and but a pair. Every one knew him, and he had a 
 word for all; he was about seventy years of age the 
 last time I saw him, and you might as well bend one 
 of his springs, or posts, as to put him out of his way. 
 You may talk of old times — and perhaps I may give 
 you some more of them — but for one, I am content 
 that they are p assed by, and supplied by others in this 
 and similar respects, at least, if not in all points, far 
 preferable. 
 
 Dublin Eighty Yeahs Ago. — Dublin was at 
 that day the most jovial, joyous city in the king's flo- 
 minions. There was nobody in it sick, sore, or sorry. 
 Trade was good, taxes were light and provisions 
 cheap. A gentleman could import for his own use the 
 best claret the cellars of Bordeaux could supply, and 
 drink it at his own table at the rate, in price, of six- 
 pence a bottle. The innkeeper, who paid a duty, 
 could afford to sell it at from two shillings to two and 
 sixpence; and excellent port at eighteen shillings or a 
 guinea a dozen. During eight months in tho j'ear, 
 Dublin was filled with a resident nobility and gentry, 
 liberal, and hospitable, and expensive in their habits; 
 and scenes were then and there acted, in which indi- 
 viduals of the first class in society, were the perform- 
 ers, that might challenge comparison with the most 
 whimsical freaks of the Second Charles and his favor- 
 ite Rochester, or even rival the adventures of Prince 
 Henry and the fat knight of Gadshill. Absentees of 
 large propi'rty were comparatively few. They did not 
 tlien, as now, crowd the streets of Florence, Rome and 
 Naples. Paris was the principal resort, and the ultima 
 Thule of their foreign travels. How limited in dis- 
 tance were their excursions may be inferred from the 
 wonder excited in Dublin by a voyage made to Jeru- 
 salem by tho late Mr. Thomas Whaley, the brother of 
 the Countess of Clare. Mr. Whaley boasted his in- 
 tention to visit that city, but his friends, although 
 aware ot the ecceniricity of his character, were incred- 
 ulous. An leronaut now taking flight to the moon, 
 would not be considered more frantic or extravagant. 
 One of Mr. Whatcly's friends proposed a bet of £500 
 that he would not complete this extraordinary, and, in 
 his opinion, dangerous and impracticable journey. 
 Mr. Whaley accepted the bet, went and returned from 
 Jerusalem, won the £500, and with it a title. 
 
 An old schoolmaster, who usually heard his pupils 
 once a week, through Watt's Scriptural History, and 
 afterwards asked them promiscuously ench questions 
 as suggested themselves to his mind, one day desired 
 a votinf; urchin to tell him who Jesse was, when the 
 boy briskly replied, 'The Flowero' Dumblane.' 
 
244 
 
 IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 DERRVNANE ABBEY. 
 
 On looking over several volumes having reference 
 to the history nnd statisties of the County of Kerry, in 
 which the foregoing building is situated, the followin};, 
 from 'Smith's Kerry,' published in the year 1752, is 
 the only record of the place we have been able to dis- 
 cover: — 
 
 Speaking of the parish in which Mr. O'ConnclI's 
 residence is situated, Mr. Smith says, 'At Aghmore, 
 towards the western extremity of the parish, are the 
 remains of a small abbey of canons regular of St. 
 Austin, founded by the monks of St. Finbar, near 
 Cork, in the seventh century. It is situated in a small 
 island near the mouth of the river of Kcnmare, having 
 its walls so beaten by the sea, that they will .soon be 
 entirely demolished. About a league to the southwest 
 of this island, which is at low water joined to the shore, 
 there arc two islands called Scariff and Dinish; the 
 former is a hiyh mountain in the sea, and hath one 
 family on it, who take care of some cows, and make a 
 considerable (lu^mtily of butter; on the top of the high- 
 est ground in the island, is a ruined hermitage. These 
 islands, with the continent, are faimed from the Earl 
 of Cork and Orrery, by Jlr. Daniel Coiinel, who has 
 on a part of the said land, named Derrynane, built a 
 good house, and made other improvements, the only 
 plantation hereabouts ' 
 
 From a recent traveller, the late Mr. H D. Inglis, 
 who made the tour of Ireland in 183-1, wo copy the fol- 
 lowing particulars relative to the district in which 
 Derrynane Abbey is situated; — 'J[y course now lay 
 through the wilds of Kerry; and first, to Cahirsiveen, 
 and Valcntia Island, which, with the exception of the 
 little islands called the lilaskets, is the nearest point of 
 Ireland to the coast of America. The distance from 
 Killarney to Cahir-sivecn, which, on the maps, is gen- 
 erally marked Cahir, is about forty English miles, and 
 the road is altogether a very interesting one; both on 
 account of the scenerj- ihrtuch which the traveller 
 passes; and on account of the peculiarities that attach 
 to the pe jple of these parts, which are said to have been 
 colonised by Spanish settlers, and which long held a 
 close intercourse with the Pmiusula. 
 
 * ♦ * » « » 
 
 Nothing can be finer than the road skirting the sea, 
 after leaving Lord Headly's property. In the magnifi- 
 cence of its mountain and sea views, it is inferior to 
 any of the celebrated roads which have been construct- 
 ed along the shores of the Mediterranean; and is every 
 
 DERRYNANE ABBEY. 
 
 way superior to the road from Bangor to Conway, in 
 North Wales. I am sorry I cannot say so much for 
 the population and their dwellings. I never passed 
 more wretched cabins than on some parts of this road. 
 Some of the worst of these are situated on the proper- 
 ty of Lord Lansdowne, but are held ander his lordship 
 by middle-men. 
 
 'I was now in O'ConnclI's country; here was 'be 
 property of Daniel O'Connell, Esq., or the Liberator, 
 as the people called him; there, the property of Charles 
 O'Connell, Esq., and there again, the property of an- 
 other O'Connell; but the greater part of the O'Connell 
 property — all that of 'the' O'Connell, is held under 
 head landlords; and he, is only an extensive middle- 
 man. Near to Cahir-siveen is the birth-place of tlic 
 great agitator. It is a ruined house, situated in a hol- 
 low near to the road; and when I reached the spot, the 
 driver of the car p\illcd up, and inquired whether I 
 would like to visit the house. But the driver of my 
 car was not a native of these parts; for be it known to 
 the reader, that O'Connell is less popular in his own 
 country than he is elsewhere If you a.sk an innkeeper, 
 or an innkeeper's wife, any where in O'ConnclI's dis- 
 trict, what sort of a man their landlord is? 'Oeh, and 
 sure he's the best o' landlords! — be takes the cbildher 
 by the hand, and he wouldn't be over proud to dhrink 
 tay with the landlady.' But if you step into a cabin, 
 the holder of which owns Daniel O'Connell, Esq., as 
 his landlord, and if yi u ask the same question, he'll 
 scratch his head, and say little any way. Shortly be- 
 fore I visited Cahir-siveen, there was a road presenta- 
 tion in that neighborhood, and the rate payers, who 
 have now a vote in these matti rs, refused at first to 
 p.nss it unless the O'Connells would pay two thirds of 
 the expense; because, said they, 'the O'Connells have 
 lived long enough out of road presentations.' 
 
 I reached O'ConnclI's town, Cahir-siveen, in time 
 for an excellent fi.sh dinner of haddock and mullet, and 
 the three or four hours that intervened between dinner 
 and bed-'imc, I spent in rambling about the environs 
 of the vilhiye, and in the neighboring countr)-. The 
 town is said to be improving, though, from its situa- 
 tion, I cannot think the improvements can ever be 
 great, for it lies within a very dangerous navigation, 
 high up the stream that there forms an inlet of the sea; 
 and in strong westerly winds, the only safe entrance, 
 between the mainland and Valcntia Island, is all but 
 inaccessible. 
 
 'The country around Cahir-siveen is extremely wild 
 and but very partially reclaimed; and the condition of 
 the people far from being comfortable. 1 visited sev- 
 eral wretched cabins, and found the inmates paying 
 exorbitant rents. Land is not let here by the acre; 
 but by the quantity of land fit to su])port a cow. I 
 found one man owning land for six cows, paying at 
 the rate of 50s. per cow, and at that time, the price of 
 butter was such, that not more than 40s. could be got 
 for the produce of each cow. Others 1 found paying 
 in precisely the same proportion. The greater indus- 
 try of the people — and I may add, the greater intelli- 
 gence universal among the Kerry peasantry — help 
 them with their indill'erent bargains. I saw in many 
 of their cabins beanliful examples of industry — every 
 branch of a family occupied in doing something useful; 
 and I did not address one indivdual, from whom I did 
 not receive answers that would have done credit to 
 persons of any education; and yet on asking one indi- 
 vidual who had convcrsid wiih me readily and sensibly 
 upon many subjects, how many weeks there were in a 
 month — I was answered, that there were two. Nature 
 has done much for these people, education little.' 
 
 Such are the observations made by Mr. Inglis, a 
 man who li.is been described as an individhal of ultra- 
 liberal sentiments, an advocate for poor-rates, and an 
 enemy to the tithe system, and whoso observations on 
 these points have been quoted in the House of Com- 
 mons. 
 
 Aphorisms. — The child that is permitted to run a 
 pin through a fly, is already prepared to run a dagger 
 through the heart of h.'s 'cllow-ercature. 
 
 Nobility may exist in name — the sovereign may 
 confer titles — the herald blazon out the descent — but 
 solid glory and real greatness are inseparably connect- 
 ed with virtue. 
 
 The wealth I require is the wealth of the heart — 
 
 The smiles of affection are riches to me. 
 
 Those only who have felt what it was to have the 
 genial current of their souls chilled by neglect, or 
 changed by unkindness, can sympathize in the feelings 
 of wounded atfcction, when the overflowings of a gen- 
 erous heart are confined in the limits of its own 
 bosom. 
 
 The spider's most attenuated thread is cord, is 
 cable, to man's tender tie of earthly bliss — it breaks at 
 every breeze. 
 
IRISn MISCELLANY. 
 
 245 
 
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 IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 BOSTON, SATUKDAY, JULY 10, 1868 
 
 SPIRIT OF THE IRISH PRESS. 
 
 The Intest papers from Ireland— those issued on the morn- 
 ing of the day of the Arabia's sailing— are exceedingly 
 biirren of interesting topics. The mutter which seems to 
 absorb the largest share of public iuterestjisthe new line of 
 eteumurs between Galway and this country, and in the lan- 
 guage of the Nation, the Irish journals have 'abandoned 
 every other toi)ic for that of direct communicatiou with 
 America.' That journal argues that the experimental trip 
 of the Indian Empire 'is not to prove that a ship may leave 
 Galway and loud a mail at Halifax,' and goes on to say 
 that 'the real object to be aimed atby such an experiment 
 ought to he the gi-eat moral elfcct and practical argument of 
 mails being actually shortened a day or two in transit. The 
 question therefore to be considered is, How many hours 
 will the Indian Empire land her mails before the Liverpool 
 packet of this morning? Tliat a superhuman effort will be 
 made to overhaul the Indian Empire we are prepared to 
 learn; that she will be overhauled we i^hall not he greatly 
 astonished to hear, altliough we need scarcely say how fer- 
 vently we hope that we may be disappointed.' Cei-tain it is 
 thatif the Indian Empire left Galway on the day appointed 
 (the 19th of June) she has, for all in-acticuble purposes, 
 pi'oved herself a miserable failure, and the sooner she is 
 withdrawn from the route and her place supplied by a ves 
 sel of better capacities, the better it will be for the success 
 of the line. 'The Liverpool packet of this morning' allud- 
 ed to above, arrived at Halifax in something leas than nine 
 days, while the Indian Empire has not yet bewi heard from. 
 Galway being nearer to Halifax than Liverpool by thirty- 
 six hours steaming, her delay is unaccountabl«, and we have 
 made up our mind to one of three things,— that she is either 
 'a very slow^ coach,' that she did not leave on the day ap- 
 poiuted, or thatsome uutoward accident has befallen her. 
 In reference to the 'accident' which did happen to her on 
 entering Galway, the same paper says, 'In our observations 
 on last Saturday, we anticipated some suspicious accident to 
 the vessel Whether we were over distrustful eveuts have 
 shewn; the pilots watched her arrival tor days, boarded 
 her and struck her most 'accidentally' upon the only rock 
 in the course — and one which few but able pilots could 
 strike a ship upon.' The pilots who so clumsily run the In- 
 dian Empire on the rock, have had a preliminary examina- 
 tion, and are held for trial, bail in their case being refused. 
 They were committed under the provisions of a statue of 
 the 9th of George Fourth, which enacts that 'if any person 
 should unlawfully and maliciously damage any ship, &c., 
 he shall be guilty oflelony, and be liable to be transported.' 
 
 The Tablet rejoices over the announcement made in the 
 House by General Feel, that ^it was the intention of the 
 government to appoint additional Presbyterian and Eoman 
 Catholic chaplains, in order to put the Koman Catholic and 
 Presbyterian soldiers, in proportion lo their numbers, on an 
 equal footing in this respect with the rest of the army.' 
 These additional chaplains were to be stationed wherever 
 there was most need ol their services, and as a matter of 
 course to be removed whenever a different distribution of 
 the troops was rendered necessary ; and with regard to their 
 pay, they were to be put upon the same footing asthe chap- 
 lains of the established church. In connection with this 
 matter, the Tablet observes, 'There are many other objects 
 which Catholics have yet to seek, and we are convinced 
 that the effectual mode of procuring tlierais the one that 
 has been adopted in this instance. Let due pains be taken 
 to prove and to establish the right so as to bring convic- 
 tion not only to the minds of those who desire to obtain, 
 butto the minds of those who have to grant, and by argu- 
 ments which will not only pass muster with friends, but 
 will stand the test of hostile criticism. Let the fatal blun- 
 der be avoided of omitting to insist upon a right, or to per- 
 form a duty lor fear that political adventurers may make 
 political capital for unworthy purposes out of the occasion 
 That is a common and a most destructive delusion. liight 
 ends sought by right means will always benefit the right 
 causeand no other.' This is most excellent and salutory 
 advice, which we heartily commend to the serious consider- 
 ation of all those who have griefs to complain of, and 
 wrongs to redress. 
 
 The Telegraph very justly finds fault with the English 
 press, for not publishhig the evidence Adduced before the 
 commission lor en([uiring into the destitution of the Done- 
 gal tenantry, and says, 'Their reporters may be present, but 
 their occupation is gone when the mere Irish are concern- 
 ed, unless it be when they can lampoon, traduce and mis- 
 re^ircscnt them. A meeting In nubibus of Italian cut- 
 throats and French anarchists is paid for handsomely— a 
 ribald mass of unchristian cahmuiy is recorded in huge 
 columsol the thundcrcr, till the procecdingsarc over; but 
 to the talc of distret's. misery and destitution which is told 
 in the simple but touching language of truth, the great 
 liabylon of the press, which boasts of its liberty iu Eng- 
 land, refuses to give a place. Landlordism and oppression 
 
 have their influences everywhere, and will not permit the 
 complaints of the masses to be so much as alluded to in 
 their columns.' This is not to be wondered at in the least, 
 for it is but a piece of the policy which has always been 
 adopted by England towards Ireland. 
 
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 forces ol the Prince of Orange by Sarslield, just previous to 
 the blowing up. The picture is now in the hands of Mr. D. 
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 who, we are sure, will do the subject every justice, if we 
 may judge from his famous military picture of 'covering 
 the retreat at Breed's Hill.' 
 
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 PUBLICATIONS RECEIVED. 
 
 From William Hickey, 128 Federal street, 'Alice Sherwin 
 a tale of the days of Sir Thomas More," by C J. M. A very 
 tastefully got up work, to which we shall more fully refer 
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346 
 
 miSfl mSCELLANY. 
 
 Wrllleu for tlie Miscclluuy. 
 AN ACROSTIC. 
 
 BY O E II A L D 1 N K . 
 
 Laftchienninor a noble race, 
 One whose bauiier iif'ur saw dii^graco; 
 Itouiid our memory let us twiuo 
 Deep iu our liearts tiucli deeds nstbiue. 
 
 Ever foremost in bis oountr>'*s cause, 
 Dt-maudiiiK I'uilb and rlgbteuus lawp, 
 AVben bloody Snxou's crushed his land 
 And laid her waste with sword aud brand, 
 Reck'd not be of place or lame. 
 Death was better than Erin's shame. 
 
 Fear was a stranger to bis heart, — 
 
 Iu life he boiv a hero's part; 
 
 The haud of France he grasped with glee,* 
 
 Zealous to make his Isle as free. 
 
 Grim lhou;;b the gallows, he could dare 
 
 England's lion to beard iu his lair. 
 
 Revere his name and virtue too. 
 
 And hope his race may yet prove true; 
 
 Life to him was scarce but a spau, 
 
 Dying nobly— 'it was for man.' 
 
 • It will be remembered that Lord Edward Fitzgerald 
 was deputed by the United Irisbmcn to proceed to France 
 to solicit aid iu l>ecing Ireland from the English yoke. 
 
 From the Dublin Celtic Union. 
 THE LEGEND OF THE CURRACH. 
 
 BY C .V U O L A N. 
 
 The broad moon looks down on the plains of Kildare, 
 On the gor^-e-dotted Currai^h, so ample and fair — 
 And as far as the eye glances over the scene, 
 JTeitl.er mountaiu or moat breaks the level between, 
 Ko tree marks the londscape — nor castle — nor hall — 
 Kor pfaceable sheeling— nor militant wall — 
 But all the vast plain is as smooth as the sea, 
 "When the grey gull skims closely iu search of her prey. 
 
 n. 
 Lo! Bometbiug moves out of the shadows, afar, 
 Tis coming! — and coming! — It troubles the air! 
 Twas a cloud! — 'tisa shape — it is caught by the moon. 
 Come hither — we now must discern it soon. 
 'Tis a war horse ! — lie comes with the speed of the tide — 
 Ue tosses his head iu his panoplied pride — 
 Ueisbere! — ha! the rider!— A warrior in mail! 
 Bis visor is up— and his visage, how pale! 
 And raised to the light, is his gauntletted hand, 
 'Which grasps in its hold, like the clutch of a brand, 
 A cup, all ablaze with a lustrous glow, 
 That shows to the night his wild courser of snow: 
 From the crest to the fetlock all milk-like ond bright. 
 Save the red dashing eyes staring out of the white. 
 
 iji. 
 Ob! he rides like the wind, and bis bearingis grand! 
 Who is bcT— what Magnate! what Prince of the laud! 
 Xark! how the swift hoofs of the wild courser shine! 
 Like the streaks, in the sun. oozing down the tall pine — 
 ^ever — never was seen on the bre ast of Kildare. 
 Such a knight!— such a steed!— such a proud pacingpair. 
 ■Who is he ;— who is he?— Oh! who should he be 
 But the heart of the laud! and the soul of tbe free! 
 The loverol Ireland iu lile and in death! 
 The strengthof her body!— the iwut of her breath! 
 The seed and the kindling! at home and away — 
 Of liberty's lightning! and free born sway! 
 Who is he?— a ray of the time honored Hue! 
 More loved than our kindred!— the staunch Geraldine! 
 
 Thus over the Currogh*- the chronicles say. 
 When se\'en long summers pass slowly away, 
 The Oeraldine ever, will ride o'er the plain- 
 On his white phantom steed, with the long flowing mane, 
 But when be apj)ear8 without cup in hi9 hand, 
 The last of his race will be gone Ironi the laud. 
 But should he ride forth and his steed be unshod 
 Of the bright silver shoes that so often have trode 
 The Curragh's rich sward, as to-night you have seen, 
 When they tlashed,a8 he pasted, in the moon's gentle sheen, 
 Then, soon will be come with bis fierce chivalry, 
 To make Ireland a nation — her children free ! 
 
 •There is a tradition, that at the end of every seven years 
 tbe Earl of Kildare may be leeu riding across the Curragb 
 on a white charger shod with silver and holding a cup in 
 bis hand ; and that when he shall appear without the cup, 
 his rsce will become extinct. But according to another le- 
 gend, when his horse's shoes are worn off, he will return to 
 destroy the enemies of Ireland. 
 
 Written lor the Miscellany. 
 NOTES FROM A JOURNAL. 
 
 ny J. r.. r. 
 No. i — ICiUamcy to Glciigarijr. 
 
 Sending our luggage by the conch to Glcngaiff, 
 we set out on foot in order to visit places of inter- 
 est on the road. Some two miles from Killarncy, 
 stands Mucruss Abbey, a most i)icturesque ruin, the 
 property of Mr. Herbert, now chief Secretary for 
 Ireland. Seme of its rooms are in a jjood state of 
 preservation, and in the centre of the cloister stands 
 the finest yew tree in all Ireland, its circumference 
 being 13 feet; its wide spreading branches, resting 
 on the walls, form a shade for the roofless building. 
 The eastern tvindow is very handsome, as is also 
 the doorway. The great fire place of the refecto- 
 ry attests the attention the friars gave to good 
 cheer. It was founded by Franciscan friars in 1140. 
 The Abbey ■was chosen by the ancient chiefs as their 
 place of sepulture, and among those whose moul- 
 dering remains rested beneath us, were O'Dono- 
 ghue, McCarthy More and U'Sullivan. On the 
 tomb which covers the dust of McCarthy More and 
 O'Donoghue, arc carved the following lines: — 
 
 'What more could Uomer's most illustrious verse, 
 Or pompous Tully's stately prose rehearse, 
 Thau what t'ais monumental stone contains. 
 In death's embrace, McCarthy More's remains. 
 Hence, reader, learn the sad and certain fate 
 That waits on man, spares not the good and great; 
 And while this venerable marble calls 
 Thy patriot tear, perhaps, that trickling falls, 
 Aud bids thy thoughts to other days return. 
 And with the spark of Erin's glory burn; 
 While to her fame most grateful tributes flow. 
 Oh ! ere you turn, one warmer drop bestow ! 
 If Erin's chiefs deserve thy generous tear, 
 Heir of their worth, O'Donoguhe lies here.' 
 
 There is a modem grave j'ard attached to the Ab- 
 bey, and I noticed quite a number of to r.b -tones on 
 which the ages of those beneath were ovei a century 
 and one is -written that Peter O'Dowd lived 114 
 years in this transitory ■world. 
 
 About two miles further on, we procured the key 
 to the gate that led to the Tore waterfall. The path 
 that leads to the fall is by the side of a dashing 
 stream, which seems to hasten to throw itself into 
 the placid waters of the lake, after takitig its leap 
 of 70 feet. The roar of the water is heard as you 
 approached, but it is concealed by the trees until 
 you are close upon it. Then it bursts upon us with 
 a thundering roar, first in a broad sheet, and after 
 which it is narrowed and goes dashing along from 
 cliff to rock in wild magnificence, until it finds its 
 level in the lake. Coming out on the road again, 
 we soon came to the Tunnel rock, from which we 
 had a good view of the Gap of Dunloe, a narrow 
 pass, on each side of which the mountains rise to 
 the height of 1500 feet. 
 
 The road now gradually ascended, and when on 
 its highest part, we turned around to gaze on the 
 valley as it 'lay smiling before' us. From here the 
 spectator sees the mountains like a dark wall, re- 
 flected in the lakes, which lie mirror-like at their 
 base. 
 
 At Kcnmore, we dined, and made a short stay in 
 the town. It is situated on the bay of the same 
 name and has a pretty suspension bridge, the only 
 one of the kind I believe in Ireland. Our road 
 again lay over as wild and barren mountains, as 
 those we had been tra\c'ling over during the day. 
 One of these mountains is called Hungry Hill, 
 which might be justly applied to every hill in Ker- 
 ry. The distance from Kenmare io Glengariffis 18 
 miles, which wc shortened a few miles by climbing 
 up a mountain 1000 feet high. Arriving on the 
 other side, we found out, by enquiring of an ur- 
 chin, that we had left Kerry and had entered Cork. 
 There did not seem to be much difl'erence at first, 
 but soon ■»e beheld the little paradise of Glenga- 
 i'\S, whose valleys are richly wooded and sprinkled 
 
 with many pretty country houses. At the 'Glen- 
 gariff Ban try Arms Hotel" we found our luggage, 
 and here, after a toilsome day's travelling, we con- 
 dutled to stay for the night. The hotel stands in 
 front of the bay, and commands a btantiful pros- 
 pect; many preferring it even to Killarncy. The 
 bay has numerous islands in it, and some of these 
 were used years aeo by smugglers to conceal their 
 goods. On a point of land running out into the 
 sea, there is a small battery erected in 1798, when 
 it was said the French would land here and help 
 the Irish to free themselves from the yoke of the op- 
 pressor. Procuring a boat, we were rowed down 
 the bay by moonlight, and although we were upset, 
 when near the shore and got our stomachs full of 
 salt water, yet we felt fully repaid by the exquisite 
 scenery. 'Mine host' of the hotel entertained us 
 till past midnight, with legends and stories of Glen- 
 garifl" and when in the arms of Morpheus our dreams 
 were of rapparce and rebel, and of enchanted 
 ground. 
 
 To be Continued' 
 
 AN INCIDENT IN THE LIFE OF AN IRISH 
 ARTIST. 
 
 BY CAROLAN. 
 
 Concluded. 
 
 We had just painted the town and county out and 
 out, and had lowered our terms to the verge of 
 meanness, so much so, indeed, that sporting gro- 
 cers' shopman, and some pretentious attorneys* 
 clerks, began to offer us disgraceful tees, commenc- 
 ing with off-hand part-payments and warm assur- 
 ances of future patronage. We saw it was time to 
 ttit, and that the novelty of our presences was no 
 longer looked upon as worthy of any further ob- 
 servance. But then we had hitherto lived upon our 
 prompt pajTnents, which were now utterly exhaust- 
 ed, so that not only our further locomotion, but 
 even our very means of subsistence, depended upon 
 a few decent debts, for the immediate liquidation of 
 which, we, on one eventful morning, sent out the 
 most polite, but at the same time most pressing, 
 epistolary requests. The morning, however, passed 
 away without any considerate debtor responding to 
 our applications ; and the short hours of noon be- 
 gan to strike despair into our hearts ; to add to our 
 chagrin, too, we heard the little dowdy, dumpy, 
 matter-of-fact, slatternly, odious, suspicious and 
 prying, sunburnt maid-servant tramping up stairs 
 to demand the market money ; I could have kicked 
 her out of the street door. On she came, with her 
 insolent demand upon her blubber lips, a cold eyed 
 wench, that only minded her business and nothing 
 else, hang her ! I seized a fiddle, as she waddled 
 into the room, and commenced, with the deadliest 
 care, to eliminate one of Ward's sonatas, my eyes 
 directly presented at futurity, my elbows squared 
 with a military exactness, an,d my ears undergoing 
 a severe apprenticeship to horrible sounds. I stole 
 a squint at my companion — ah ! he was York.shire 
 too — we both were pupils, and apt ones too, under 
 old Professor Adversity. He had totally abandoned 
 himself to the occupation of purifying a stained 
 pallette — and so soul-absorbing seemed this delect- 
 able undertaking to him, that he resembled the 
 famous Grecian statue of the crouched knife grind- 
 er listening to the conspirators. We heard our per- 
 secutor's unsympathising demand for the ' where- 
 withal' repeated over and overagain, with the most 
 stoical indifference. I looked into her potatoe face 
 as into a dark void — and my Grecian brother did 
 the caves' dropper, over his pallette, with the most 
 commendable assiduity. The cold-hearted jade 
 stood astounded — she evidently could make nothing 
 of us ; for, as Coleridge says in his ' Ancient Mar- 
 iner,' 
 
 ' I held her with my glittering eye.' 
 
 My stolid face, too, began to alarm her, and my 
 companion's occupation did not tend in any way to 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 347 
 
 lessen her apprehension, for as she afterwards told 
 her mistress in confidence, ' the young man was 
 scouring a bit of a stick, as if his life depended upon 
 it. I think she would hare bolted precipitately 
 from our mysterions propinquity, had not a loud 
 double knocking at the hall door suddenly disen- 
 chanted the knife grinder ; at least, to all appear- 
 ance, it seemed to have that effect ; for he sprang up- 
 on his feet, flung up the window, and after one 
 sharp glance down into the street, exclaiir.ed with 
 an air of supernatural exultation : — 
 
 ' A letter by a livery servant of Gorman's you dog ! 
 with a seal on it as big as a pewter dish in the Old 
 Man's Hospital.' 
 
 Then turning savagely upon the more and more 
 alarmed dumpling servitor, he commanded : — 
 
 ' Off to the door. Harpy ! and bring us up the let- 
 ter from the intelligent young lad knocking for ad- 
 mittance.' 
 
 She fled. It was all right. We ate our dinner 
 that day right heartily, and improvisatrised the mum- 
 scene of the morning over and over again to our 
 heart's most innate glee and satisfaction ; but the 
 dumpy servant always regarded us ever after with 
 the genuine and evident symptoms of wary suspi- 
 cion. The breaking morning found me thus dream- 
 ing away fantastically, and I awoke only to recall 
 with bitter anticipations the odious work before 
 me. I could not rest, and think of it ; so up I start- 
 ed, and dressing myself hurriedly, snatched up a 
 small deal bo.x containing a few artistic implements, 
 in case of success (and here I chuckled maliciously 
 at myself) and set forth with dogged resolution to 
 encounter the besmeared corpse in the porch of the 
 ruined old church. The rude starting stones hurt 
 me sorely as I heedlessly strode along the narrow 
 bohreen, and the grass and the lank weeds wetted 
 me to the skin, as I tramped across the hemlocked 
 paddock to the place of my destination. I now 
 loathed the unnatural desecration of the dead — and 
 in proportion as my worldly aggrandizement faded 
 away into uncertainty, the consciousness of the un- 
 chrtstianlike nature of my undertaking took forcible 
 possession of my convictions. But there was no 
 mode oi retrogression — my task must be accom- 
 plished, or, I must be laughed at — lose my engage- 
 ment and its perquisites— and give up all future 
 hopes of patronage from the same quarter — and then 
 to leave the business half done, why, this must at 
 once appear to be the result of fear, squeamishness, 
 or incapacity — for, of course, I thought nobody 
 would give me credit for abandoning it through a 
 scruple of conscience ; although I am sure a poor 
 man has a right to get tick, for that same very at- 
 tainable commodity, before either a rich man or a 
 skeptic. 
 
 WtU, I tapped the corded coffin at my feet with my 
 wet boot — the sound was as dull as lead — there was no 
 fear of any one stealing away I he body in the night. 
 Oh no! Ah, how gingerly I handled the half rotted 
 ropes, and how cold and fltliby they felt, and how my 
 heart sickened in anticipation of the rank effluvia that 
 the opening of the lid would eliminate. But this mode 
 of proceeding would never answer. The winds began 
 to moan through the rents of the old building, and 
 there was an earthy smell upon the air, which, with 
 the raw coldness of the morning, and the dampness 
 of my clothes, began to drive me into so abject a slate 
 of mind that I was ready to cry with chagrin and utter 
 di-comf)Vt. It required a smart dasli of resolution to 
 put an end to this state of things, so, with a contempt- 
 uous 'pshaw!' at my own debasement, I flung open the 
 coffin, and with trembling fingers proceeded to try the 
 consistence of the cursed cranky plaister of Paris. I 
 wore a smile of self-derision as I made the cxpeiiment, 
 for I confidently anticipated the result. But judge of 
 my joyful disappointment, when I found it as hard as 
 marble, and as dry as a hoard. I flung myself on my 
 knees, not to pray — for, somehow, young men rarely 
 or never think of being thankful to God for anything 
 
 — hut to find out was fortune equally propitioua to mo 
 in aflbrding a facility of removing the composition, and 
 of fuUv disengaging it from the decomposing features 
 of the dead. I placed my hand firmly upon the scalp, 
 and then essayed to make a lateral movement of the 
 whole solidified mass; it came with mo, but came so 
 freely that I feared it was bringing the cadaverous flesh 
 alonu with it. I lurnd round to get a small vial of oil 
 that stood near me, and actually cried out aloud and 
 involuntarily, as a big, apoplectic, broad, grinning face 
 almost came in contact with my own, the worthy Ser- 
 jeant had stolen march upon me, and as I joined, or 
 tried to join in his uproarious merriment — a miserable 
 failure by the way — I saw that the old church was ac- 
 tually beset by spectators. Five or six white faces, 
 surmounted by turf bronzed straw hats peered, goggle- 
 eyed, through a dilapidated arched window above us — 
 others were twisted, serpent-wise, about the ancient 
 doorway, their shock-haired heads protruding exten- 
 sively inwards — and others bestrode a detached por- 
 tion of the dismantled walls, to which they clung with 
 an evidendy muscular tenacity, through apprehension, 
 of course, that the horrors about to be revealed below 
 bv the rifler of the dead might be such as to overcome 
 their powers of preserving their just equilibrium. I 
 now felt that I was called upon to act heroically, or if 
 need should be, to cover my defeat with the assured 
 glorification of success — with the generalship of a 
 Gregg — with the brazen audacity of a Gavazzi — so I 
 flung off my coat, crumpled back my shirt sleeves, 
 and gave a splash of the cement to my bare arms; 
 added to this, I threw my hat on the ground, and 
 tossed my hair rakishly off my forehead, at once 
 transforming myself into a sort of artist brigand, much 
 to the consternation and dire expectation of all my 
 rustic spectators. I was resolved that they, at least, 
 should know nothing of i-ny discomfiture, if such there 
 should be. The seijeant clapped me on the back, and 
 so I went to work with a will, and most valorously 
 into the bargain. I tried the composition again, and 
 lifted it half off the poor human subject. My heart 
 beat violently against my ribs — I looked beneath the 
 plaister — all 'igbt — the cheek had not even been 
 abraded, but as I thought to liberate it altogether, it 
 held fast about the nose. I was stifling with fear and 
 disgust — I could stop to manccuvre it no longer — but 
 plucked it away. I saw with a glance that merely the 
 nasal tip had been separated— so, twisting the winding 
 sheet rapidly over the body, I snatched a large napkin 
 from my deal box, folded up the cast in a twinkling, 
 slammed down the coffin-lid, and seizing upon my 
 coat and hat, strode, with the white box under my arm, 
 in the most nccromaniie looking manner possible, out 
 of the theatre of my daring diablerie. A groan of 
 wild horror followed my retreat, to the effect of which 
 the seijeant added fearfully, by discharging a large 
 horse pistol 
 
 The poor peasants, dropping from their perches at 
 all parts of the old building, fled like maniacs across 
 the country; indeed, the retreat from Corrunna was 
 hut a fly-crawl, compared to the fugitive powers of the 
 bewildered inhabitants of the vicinity of Lancluff, who 
 never before had witnessed any Christian-looking man 
 invading the habitations of the dead, and in the double 
 capacity, too, of a mountebank and a plunderer. 
 Little did they dream, and never would they believe, 
 that the principle performer in the scene they had just 
 witnessed, was, at that moment, inwardly protesting 
 that, 'not for Pamer's estate' would ho ever be induced 
 to act as priino buffo any more on so discreditable an 
 occasion Arrived at my little inn, I flung off my wet 
 garments, indulged in a luxurious shave, and after a 
 copious and most refreshing ablution, stepped down 
 stairs to breakfast, and in the highest spirits. The 
 Serjeant was waiting for me, and wiih the agreeable 
 information, loo, that he had a loan of a jingle from a 
 friend, on which he nnderlook to drive me into the 
 town of C , whence I was to take coach for Dub- 
 lin. 
 
 The said jingle had nigh dislocated every bone in 
 my body, but that apprehension was not half so pain- 
 ful as the fear of its cruel convulsions breaking my 
 
 plaister-cast, and rendering all my dreadful pilgrimage 
 nugatory. This fear haunted me whilst I bid farewell 
 to die good natured Serjeant, and accompanied me 
 into my lodgings at Dublin — not the Serjeant but the 
 fear. 
 
 When I was safely ensconced within my quarters, 
 I opened my deal box with many a dismal forebod- 
 ing ; but every card I now held appeared to be 
 trumps ; everything was safe and sound. The hol- 
 low shell of cement exhibited a perfect model of the 
 dead man's features, except where a small portion 
 of the nose adhered ; but this I knew I could easily 
 remove with a sponge and a little warm water. Up 
 to this time I had been nearly an hour locked up at 
 my mysterious employment, and lo ! very contrary 
 to usage, a death-like stillness pervaded the whole 
 house; the cause of which I afterwards ascertained 
 to be, that my landlady suspected I had failed in my 
 mission, on account of the taciturnity with which I 
 received her interested welcomings (home r) and 
 knowing the constitution of my purse previous to my 
 departure, apprhension seized her mind, that the atro- 
 phy of my means might prove contagious, and cause 
 an endemic disease within her well-beloved treasury. 
 But when I found that (as Richard said to Rich- 
 mond) ' the chance was mine,' I lugged at the bell- 
 pull in the most furious manner, and gave such a 
 minatory order for warm water and a basin, as set 
 all untoward suspicions of my solvency at rest, at 
 least for the present. So I cleaned out my cast, 
 well and thoroughly, oiled it elegantly, and poured 
 into it a skilfully prepared emulsion of composition, 
 undulated it, skilfully and artistically, until it 
 sraoothened to a beautiful surface ; and, after a 
 short time, had the rapturous felicity of producing 
 a most perfect mask, which, after minute and most 
 satisfactory examination, as well as a series of men- 
 tal comments and muttered apostrophes, and duly 
 deposited in a secure little cupboard, there to await 
 the arrival of its owner on the following morning ; 
 for which purpose I sent him a note, apprising him 
 of my arrival and of my success. Then I tumbled 
 out the contents of my purse upon the table — count- 
 ed it out — amount fifteen shillings ; twelve of which 
 in the blandest and most killing manner possible, I 
 handed to my rapacious old landlady, not knowing 
 how soon I might want to draw upon her patience 
 again, and merely remarking to her at the time, that 
 possibly she might want money, and that I had so 
 much to spare. 
 
 Then, after listening impatiently to the acrid old 
 vixen's repeated assurances of her never-faltering con- 
 fidence in my hcmor and integrity, with the air of an 
 injured nobleman, I glided into the street; the hall- 
 door paused, in the depth of its respect to me, and I 
 had turned the sharp angle of the pathway hefure it 
 ventured to close, very humbly and very obsequiously 
 U|!on my honored heels. Away I went to seek the 
 domiciles of a few of my most intimate confederates, 
 and to regale their ears with my most notorious ad- 
 ventures. 
 
 On the next day my p.atron paid me a visit, and be- 
 ing highly pleased with the excellence of the mask, 
 gave me a cheque for twenty pounds on David La 
 Tom he and Company, under the influence of which I 
 sat down and wrote without once pulling up, this rude 
 sketch of 'An Incident in the Life of an Irish Artist.' 
 
 JOHN SMITH. 
 
 [The following sketch, published many years ago 
 in the New York Evening Post, is so good, that we 
 have been tempted to rescue it from oblivion, for 
 the benefit of the twenty thousand readers of the 
 Miscellany.] 
 
 By the Liverpool packet, a double letter, folded and 
 se'ilcd in a way which led to the belief that money was 
 enclosed, and nddiesscd to Mrs. John Smith, was re- 
 ceived at oar post-office. It h.ad not long been depos- 
 ited in its proper box, before a short, fat, smirking 
 little woman made her appearance at the window 
 
348 
 
 IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 in a broad, Irish accent, inquired, 'Ilavo you ivcr a 
 lotlor for Mrs. Smith!' 
 
 'Yes, here is one for Mrs. Smith — Mrs. Caibarino 
 Smith — is that jour niinu-, good woman!' 
 'No. that's not it — my iiamo is Bridget?' 
 
 'Ah, here is one. Tray, what is your hnsband's 
 name!' 
 
 'Out on the vngabone — liis name is John." 
 
 The clerk was about to give the letter to the woman, 
 but bis experience had taught him that John Smiths 
 were as plenty as blackberries, and he held it back, 
 while bo asked a few more questions. 
 
 'And where did you expect a letter from, Mrs. 
 Smith!' 
 
 'Oh, from Cincinnati or Now Orleans, or therea- 
 bouts. The villain obn Smith— that I should say 
 so! — promised to write me these two months, and not 
 the bit scrape of his ugly pen have I seen at all, at 
 all.' 
 
 'But this letter is from Liverpool, my good woman, 
 and of course is not for you.' 
 
 'Liveri)00l, did you say! Oh, the ruflian, hits he 
 then deserted me entirely, and gone back to the ould 
 country!, 
 
 'Supposing be has, you would probably expect to 
 receive money from him.' 
 
 'Is it money you mane? Sure, then, you have put 
 your fut in it. The sadille is on the tother horse. It 
 would be asking for money, not sending mc any, that 
 John Smith would be after. No, no, sharp's the eye 
 that ever sees the color of John's money, more nor 
 himself, and the man where he bnys his whisky.' 
 
 'I fear, if that is the ease,' said the clerk, 'thai I shall 
 not be able to give you this letter. It appears to con- 
 tain a large sum of money, and must be for some 
 other person ol your name.' 
 
 The woman went away grumbling and scolding, 
 and vowing, 'it was all a chate,' and threatening, if 
 there was law in the land, she would have her letter. 
 In about an hour after, a tall, sallow-looking man, 
 whose slntight black hair, keen eye, and Indian gait, 
 denoted him as one <it that portion of our countrymen 
 who style themselves 'half-horse, half-alligator, and the 
 a little touch of the snapping turtle,' walked up to the 
 place of letter delivery. 
 
 'I say, stranger, I want a letter for John Smith'' 
 
 'There is none addressed to that name,' said the 
 clerk; 'bnt here is one for Jlrs. John Smith.' 
 
 'Ah, that's me, or what's the same thing, it's my 
 woman; so shell it out here in a little less than no 
 time.' 
 
 'Stay a moment, my frient; where did you expect a 
 letter from?' 
 
 'Whar from!' exclaimed the Kcntuckian, in surprise. 
 'Look here, stranger, I reckon you want to poke fun 
 at me. Now let me tell you, I'm a pretty considera- 
 ble sort of a chap — I'm a riiig-Uiil roarer, all the way 
 from Salt River. So none of your cockalofiical ca- 
 vorting about me, or I'll be into you like a streak of 
 lightning.' 
 
 "I merely wish to know where you expect a letter 
 from, to avoid mistakes, as there are so many John 
 Smiths. This letter contains money.' 
 
 'That's why I want it. And so you're gwaing [go- 
 ing] to keep the letter for the sake of the shiners. 
 Maybe ym think I am't worth bo money. I tell you 
 what, stranger, my old man's a heavy dog, and thinks 
 no more of a hundred dollars (State Bank, you tce.and 
 not the rale specie,) than you do of a hundred cents. 
 Why should he? Am't he a director, and what ac- 
 count is money to him!' 
 
 'But this letter is from England. Tour father is not 
 an Englishman, is he?' 
 
 'Look here, stranger, if you mean to insult me, jnst 
 step out here, and I'll lick you within an inch of your 
 life. Englishman! I reckon if you had seen me at 
 Orleans, with old Hickory, you wouldn't a' thought 
 there was much English hlood in me, though there 
 war a pretty considerable smart chance of it on to me. 
 And my wife's rale Kentuck to the backbone, too; 
 none of your half-and-half Yankee r sh. If the letter's 
 from England, she shouldn't touch it, if i coniainei 
 
 ever such a powerful heap of money.' And so saying, | such circumstances : — Young and enthusiastic, a poot, 
 the stranger turned indifnantly from the office, satis- an artist, and an exile. My fancy followed his thoughts, 
 lied that a letter from England could not be intended as he continued gazing on the changing cloud. Was 
 for him or his. it not an emblem ol Erin, the land of his birth 1 First, 
 
 The next applicant for a letter for John Smith was how the inner glow struggled through the gloom, till 
 a small dapper gentleman, with hair of a reddi,«h cast, the heaven-horn light permeated and sublimated all ; 
 light eyes, and sandy complexion. The bosom of his I then how from peak to peak shone a more intense and 
 vest was traversed in every direction with strings of golden lustre, on which the world must gaze with won- 
 sllk braid and safety chains, and his collar was rolled der and joy ; next came the majestic voice — a voice to 
 back with great precision, so as to display to the best command and awe the nations. But, last, stole forth, 
 advantage a curiously plaited bosom to his linen, and j in grey, the herald of coming night. And night do- 
 a set of gilt-mounted studs, with which it was adorned. : sccnded, and the glory was not. Yet, O beautiful 
 Ilis upper lip was shaded with some dozen or twenty Erin ! shall there bt a morning for thee, after all thy 
 hairs, which, as the weaver said of the threads of his dreadful darkness, after all thy tears, even as bright 
 carpet, wore not as neighborly as they should be; but and calm and blessed as this now encircling my homo 
 they glistened with bear's grease, and hid been forced ^ at Ivywall. 
 
 with infinite pains from their bristling to a supine po- My home at Ivywall. It is neither a cottage nor a 
 sition, so that they presented quite a smart apology for : castle. It has ample room for its inhabitants, and for 
 mustachios. Our beau was highly indignant that a their friends. Without pretence, it is pretty, and very 
 post-office clerk should dare to question him, or with- | comfortable, and very dear to our hearts. Something 
 hold a letter addressed 'to his lady' — hut said it was no j will be found to please the eye of taste ; and even the 
 more than might be looked for under a rascally Jack- ' walls have a soul in them, for large landscapes are 
 son administration — told him wit!i impressive earnest- I painted thereon. Look where we may, and in all sea- 
 ness that ho was a gentleman — threw down his card i sons alike; trees and green hills, rocks, streams, moun- 
 
 with the look of an angry Ciesnr, and uttered mighty 
 throats in a very weak an effeminate voice, which was 
 not without a certain quaver, that seemed to denote 
 that the speaker was not altogether sure whcilier the 
 
 tains and waterfalls, are round us, at least rendering 
 more vivid our memory of the grace and grandeur of 
 nature. Then my library, where I pass so many 
 pleasant hours with pen, or pencil, or books, or living 
 
 ntennediate wall afforded a protection to his exquisite I frrends — where I look from the ' glory-window,' on 
 
 person. The clerk, however, receiving no satisfactory 
 answers to his inquiries, was not iniiniidnted into giv- 
 ing the dandy the letter, and the disappointed appli- 
 cant walked off in a most unbecoming passion. 
 
 A long, blue-eyed, red-cheeked, raw-boned, awk- 
 ward looking man, from 'down east,' was the next to 
 ask for the much-claimed letter for Mrs. John Smith; 
 he was succeeded by a chuliby negro woman, and a 
 thickset, heavy-looking Dutchman followed her. None 
 of them, however, gave satfsfactory answers to the 
 ([uestions which the careful clerk thought it his duty to 
 ask, and were obliged to go away as they came. At 
 last a small, pretty woman, with high cheek bones, 
 and rosy complexion, dressed in a neat, close habit, a 
 gipsy hat, having altogether a John Bull air, came to 
 the post-office window, and modestly asked if there 
 was a letter by the Liverpool packet for Mrs. John 
 Smith. Noticing that the clerk felt some little hesita- 
 tion at giving it to her, she authorized him to break 
 the seal, telling him the amount of money it would 
 probably be found to contain, and one or two other 
 facts, which would establish her claim beyond doubt. 
 The contents of the letter proved her right to it, and 
 mnch to the joy of the cleik, the troublesome epistle 
 passed out of his custody. 
 
 Written for tlie Miscellany. 
 
 WALKS AND TALKS. 
 
 BY VERNON, 
 
 'As I walked by myself, 
 I talked to myself, 
 
 Aud thus myself said to me.' 
 
 trees and gardens and sunsets, and from all the others 
 on gardens and trees and the ' unsmoked ' sky. My 
 own garden, too, is a jileasure to me, with its winding 
 walks, grass, flowers, the seats in the shade, and the 
 dial in the sun. What though a city pavement of 
 harsh bricks be near my porch, I sit within my gate 
 and forget it when I choose, for I have placed my 
 house away from it — and so the grass and roses and 
 trees help me. Would I more completely ignore sur- 
 roundings, I ascend to the belvedere on the roof, and 
 there safely look out, over the whole city, over the huge 
 Capitol itself, and all steeples and towers, and see the 
 fair course of the lovely Potomac, with its white sails 
 and forest fringed shores, even as far as our hero's 
 resting place, Mount Vernon. 
 
 Only a few words more of Ivywall, and after so 
 much 'talk,' we will begin our 'walk.' When my 
 home was being built, of course I was often witli the 
 mechanics, feeling that interest so natural to one who 
 is producing in fact the long-cherished dream of fancy 
 — giving to 'airy nothing' 'a local habitation,' as I 
 have since given it 'a name.' The two-story bay-win- 
 dow, on the south, had )irogress(d so far that the work- 
 men were about to insert the first casement. Just then 
 two country youths stopped before the building, and 
 surveyed it some time with considerable wonder. At 
 last one of them spoke : — 
 
 'Well, I declare, Jim, the strange gentleman's go- 
 ing to put a 'chimley' in front of his house!' 
 
 'Yes,' replied the puzzled Jim, 'and he's going to 
 have a winder in the chimley!' 
 
 'My!' exclaimed the other. 
 
 I could not resist it; so, lest they should 'burst 
 in ignorance,' as Hamlet saith, I informed them that 
 the 'winder' was placed there to cool the cook! 
 And with this explanation they departed well satis- 
 fied. 
 
 Even so let us depart, for the brceza still prevails 
 and a friendly cloud has come over the sun. 
 
 Wherever we walk there are trees along the pave- 
 Washington is a forest city. Nor is there 
 
 r 
 
 A breezy day of June. Last evening the sun went 
 down in a magnificent cloud of purple and gold, and, 
 ere its glory faded into grey, ' the cloud spoke.' But 
 only a few raindrops followed the thunder, not enough 
 to revive lie drooping vines and flowers of ' Ivywall,' 
 nor to extinguish for a moment the swift-moving lights 
 of the fite-flies. I sat with a friend at the 'glory win- 
 dow ' of my library, (for it looks toward the 6unset,_) i ™cnt 
 admiring the unusual splendor of the sky, the graceful , «"}' <"''S'' containing so many and beautiful public 
 forms of the still trees, and the soft, vanishing outlines gardens. The taste of the Government, in this ro- 
 of the distant hills. It was Sunday, and the church- ' speet, has also been generally diffused among our 
 bells were ringing, far off, and moat musically. And ! citizens, especially where their dwellings are their 
 the hour, and the scene, and thiit gladly-solemn, soli- ' ow" property. These private Edens especially 
 tary sound, came gladly to our hearts, and lingered abound in the northern part ot the metropolis, in 
 there, and whispered to old memories, sweet or sad, the neighborhood of Ivywall, where ground is com- 
 whieh had been slumbering long, waking them to the parativcly cheap, and the fortune of Corcoran is 
 repetition of tales of other days. My friend seemed to not required to enable one to enjoy trees and vines 
 be esp-icially under this dreamy influence. Nor could and flowers. At times, here, the air is 'filled to 
 it be otherwise, with such a mind as his, and under fatness with perfume.' O, we of these northern 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 349 
 
 heights truly pity tlie dwellers of most other cities, 
 tliosc who nre doomed to small space and little and 
 poisoned air, and to whom a tree or a rosebud, ex- 
 cept the 'Chiistmas-treo' and the artificial flower, 
 would be almost a curiosity. 
 
 A\'c arrive on Pennsylvania Avenue at about the 
 central point of the city, and hesitate a moment, for 
 an attraction invites us each way — to the east the 
 Capitol and gardens, to the west the President's 
 mansion and gardens, while, directly in front, rise 
 the Smithsonian towers, and wind the ever-alluring 
 paths of nature's gentle student. Downing. Like 
 the lover in the song of 'L. E. L.', who was bewil- 
 dered with beauty: 
 
 'Alas, whatever choice we make 
 Ths other we must lose I' 
 
 But the loss shall only be for to-day. And now, 
 as ill our last walk, we called in at the Capitol, to 
 make our visit more complete, we'll go there again 
 this morning. Passing the gay and thronged stores 
 — passing the marble hotel of the Browns', and the 
 great and famous 'National', where Members 'most 
 do congregate' — passing refectories and ooarding- 
 houses innumerable — and passing Tiber creek — that 
 stream made classic by the muse of Moore: 
 
 'And what was Goose creek ouce is Tiber now' — 
 passing all these, but ever impressed as we walk, 
 with the grand dimensions of this avenue, and 
 dreaming of the time — is it far? — when it shall dis- 
 play two rows of palaces — we arrive at the iron 
 gate of the Capitol garden, guarded, just within,by 
 the 'keeper', cosily seated in his miniature cottage. 
 Broad stone paths and winding gravel ways conduct 
 us among beautiful trees where children and wo- 
 men are the cherubs and angels of the shadows 
 over the grass, and where, here and there, the most 
 beautiful flowers appear, well attended in their star 
 and diamond beds. Yonder are the marble basins 
 where fountains will be, when the strong Potomac 
 shall leap into town next December. One of these 
 basins is temporarily floored over, forming a plat- 
 form for a band of musicians, who, once a week, 
 delight the 'good people all, of every sort', by or- 
 der of our Uncle. Ascending the stone steps, we 
 approach an oval basin filled with water and red 
 fishes, and defended by an iron railing. From the 
 midst of this water rises a monument to Decatur 
 and others, ornamented with statues of Commerce, 
 Navigation, America, and Victory. Immediately 
 beyond the pool is the fountain, which supplies it, 
 the water being brought by pipes from a spring 
 about a mile off. We now ascend to the terrace, 
 surrounding the Capitol, and find another garden, 
 on the eastern front, with another pool and more 
 fishes. In this garden stands, or rather sits, the col- 
 ossal statue of Washington, looking like a half- 
 robed Roman, a Ca;sar badly got up for village the- 
 atricals. A railing, with lamps, protects it — from 
 every touch but that of birds and the elements. 
 The elements have touched it rudely, several cavi- 
 ties being seen, where the rains are wearing it away. 
 Nor do I think that its total destruction would be 
 regretted by any American, for it impresses no one 
 with a single idea of him who is, 'first in the hearts 
 of his countr)-men.' 
 
 But let us forget the unpleasing monster of mar- 
 ble, and think only of the man and patriot. Lotus 
 hope that a true soul will yet dwell in this land to 
 conceive properly and justly represent our great 
 Father. Away with copies of old Greece and 
 Rome! Appear, Spirit of American Art! 
 
 These broad-spreading trees invite to rest. Leave 
 the iron benches for those who may seek them: for 
 us, let us recline on the soft grass, and look up at 
 the varied foliage and softly-moving clouds, while 
 the breeze shall fan us, the birds shall sing to us, 
 and the flowers nod us cheerful welcome, as we 
 dream of poetry and youth and eternal love! 
 [To be Continued.] 
 
 ARRIVAL OF THE INDIAN EMPIRE. 
 
 ACCIDENT TO HEU MACHINEIIY. 
 
 We stop our press for the purpose of announcing 
 to our readers the joyful intelligence of the arrival of 
 the Indian Empire oft' Halifax. A dispatch from 
 that place, dated Jidy 2d, gives us the following 
 particulars: — 
 
 'Steamship Indian Empire, from Galway, eve- 
 ning of the 19th ult , called off this harbor at 11 
 o'clock last night, landed Mr. Miles of London, the 
 mails for British North America, and proceeded at 
 four o'clock this morning for New York. She re- 
 ports a few days after leaving Galway, broke her 
 port piston; after 8 hours delay, continued on her 
 course with one engine. Had light westerly winds 
 until 24th, when she encountered a severe gale 
 which lasted twenty- four hours. The remainder of 
 the passage was pleasant. Off Cape Race met 12 
 large icebergs.' 
 
 The passage, considering the difficulties under 
 which the ship labored is a fair one, and the experi- 
 ment has proved to us that there can be no obsta- 
 cle to the permanent establishment of a line of 
 first class steamers between Ireland and the United 
 States. 
 
 A Wateuspout at Sea. — A passenger in a large 
 American ship, which left England in the autumn 
 of last year, for Melbourne, mentions in a letter to 
 his friends the following extraordinary phenome- 
 non: — 
 
 'Sunday, the 11th of October, was a memorable 
 day to us all. It had been exceedingly hot ther- 
 mometer at 9i degrees — and we were all lyinc 
 about in the cool, previous to having tea, when C. 
 drew the captain's attention to the peculiar appear- 
 ance of the sky to the windward. With the glass 
 he soon made it out to be a tornado or waterspout; 
 his looks at the time sent a chili through us all. 
 Instantly all hands were at work shortening sail, 
 barring just one to steer by (in case we should be 
 so fortunate as to feel the wind that drifts them 
 along.) Mr. C. and I helped to haul down the roy- 
 als. By this time we could all plainly see it drift- 
 ing towards us; it had at first the appearance of a 
 dense cloud of steam, but as it approached it seem- 
 ed to condense itself into a long, low black cloud 
 hanging more down towards the middle. When 
 very near, T. felt the wind and shouted to the man 
 at the wheel to 'heave the wheel up,' which just 
 turned us to leeward and caused it to pass astern of 
 us. A few minutes after it burst, casting thi 
 waves about for a quater of a mile. The end of 
 the cloud burst over us, and came down in the 
 most extraordinary showers of rain that any one on 
 board ever witnessed. From the time that the men 
 had eased the ship to its bursting, (about twentv 
 minutes, not a soul had spoken; we all stood look- 
 ing as if fascinated and there were men amongst us 
 who had laughed at many a gale. It was the most 
 awful suspense I ever endured. Many a fine India- 
 man and other vessels, reported as missing, have 
 foundered from these waterspouts bursting over 
 them. We spent the evening in conversing upon 
 t e wonderful laws of God, and before we retired 
 I read aloud the first one of Robertson's sermon 
 on 'God's revelation of Heaven' not without mutu 
 al benefit. ' 
 
 Voltaire had an actor named Paulin at Ferncy 
 who played the tyrants in his private theatricals! 
 Voltaire slept very little, passing half the night in 
 changing his pieces. About 3 o'clock one morning 
 having thonght of a new speccli for Paulin, he woke 
 his servant and told him to carry it to the actor. 
 'The poor man is'nt up,' said the servant. 'Go to 
 him,' cried the poet, 'tyrants never sleep!' 
 
 A CAUDLE LECTURE REVERSED. 
 
 The following rich, rare and racy, is a 
 capital hit at some husbands, and may be 
 read profitably by all who are inclined to 
 find fault, when there is no fiiull. 'A place 
 for everything and everything in its place,' 
 is a rule that would prevent many lectures 
 were it practised more. But just hear Mr. 
 Caudle : — 
 
 ' Now, Mrs. Caudle, I should like to know 
 what has become of my hat ? Here I've 
 been hunting all over the house and lost ten 
 minutes that should have been given to the 
 Mutual Life Insurance Company. Now, I 
 say, what have you done with my hat ? You 
 have not seen it ? Ot course not ; never do 
 see it. Frank, go and get my hat, and Jane, 
 fetch me my cane. What's that? You can't 
 find my hat? Now, Mrs. Caudle, I should 
 like to know why you will persist in training 
 ?/o«r children in such a heedless manner.^ 
 He cant find my hat ! To be sure not ; how 
 can he, if you don't learn him how to look ? 
 Did I not leave it in the kitchen when I went 
 there last night after something to eat? 
 How the deuce should you know ? I say it's 
 your business to know, and to have things 
 all ready for me in the morning, and not to 
 have me lose so much of my time. Eh, you 
 have too much else to do ? Of course you 
 have, with three servant.s and two children ? 
 Be calm ! Oh yes, I will be calm ! You 
 see I am calm, and if you would only be so I 
 should have been able to have found my hat 
 long ago, instead of staying here to listen to 
 your excuses, when I ought to have been 
 down town attending to business. I wonder 
 how you expect I'm going to keep this house 
 agoing, if I'm to be kept here waiting for my 
 hat.? What, how can you help it? Why, 
 Madam, it's the easiest thing in the world ! 
 It's simply this modern management. Now 
 do you suppose things would go on in this 
 way, if you'd only see that articles are in 
 their right places ? But I suppose that you 
 haven't got time to do that even ! Of course 
 Dot. Well, there is no use of talking, I must 
 go to the office bareheaded. Your bonnet, 
 madam! Your bonnet! But why should' 
 I be surprised if you should offer me your 
 skirls also, since 1 seem to have lost all au- 
 thority in this house! It's not your fault ! 
 And pray, then, whose fault is it ? I will 
 
 repeat ir, over twenty times, if you wish it 
 
 Whose fault is it? What, the servants? 
 No, madam; I tell you, you are mistaken! 
 It s not the servants, I tell you its your fault. 
 I wonder who oversees the servants? Who' 
 madam, but you ? Then, it's dearly your 
 fault that I can't find my hat (Sits down) 
 Well, it's no use talking— I shan't go to the 
 office today, and you, madam, shan't go to 
 Newport— d'ye hear? It's no use asking, 
 you shan't go! You needn't suppose I'm 
 going to be deprived of my hat in this way 
 and then allow you to spend my money at 
 Newport. No, madam, I'm no such fool as 
 all that comes to. No, madam, he;e I am 
 and here I'll stay all day, madam, and— eh .■> 
 What? You wish 1 wouldn't talk so much ? 
 I tell you I will talk— I'll talk all dav if I 
 please, and smoke too— d'ye hear ihat? I'll 
 smoke in the dining room, and yes, by Jove, 
 I'll smoke in the parlor, and, by Jove, mad' 
 am, I'll scent the curtains, I'll siuoke all over 
 the house.' 
 
 • Here,' says Mrs. Caudle, ' the horrid 
 wretch was about putting his odious precept 
 into practice, when Jane came in with his 
 hat, naving found it where it had been left bv 
 him in a corner of the large oak tree chair, 
 on the back porch.' 
 
350 
 
 IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 The Coolv Tiiadf..— The Overland Friend of j hulf past twelve o'clock. The average voyage by 
 China, of the 30th of March, contains the details uf j the Cunard and Collins lines has been eleven days 
 a prosecution that was instituted against a firm that j and twenty-two hours. Ten days is considered a 
 was extensively engaged in ths Cooly trade, who tirst class passage, but the Indian Empire, it is ex- 
 had shipped on board a vessel for Uavana, a num- ; peceed, wiU reach Ualifax in nine days at the ut- 
 ber of -apprentices' considerably in excess of the ' most, and perhaps in eight. To meet the wishes of 
 TCssel's register. The proof appeared to be conclu- the public, the directors of the Midland Railway 
 Bive enough, and a verdict was brought in for the • will, we understand, run two special trains to Gal- 
 prosecution— a mere nominal verdict— amounting to way at very reasonable fares; and to give greater 
 but a verv mild censure of the shippers. The trial eclat to this truly national project, the Lord Lieu 
 
 assure himself of her safety, so strong was the im- 
 pression of her death implanted on bis mind by the 
 omen.' 
 
 is chiefly interesting to us however, in so far as it 
 unveils the process of transferring human beings 
 into merchandise for the Cuba market. In the 
 first place, the ship herself had long been off the 
 register of 'lettered' shipping, and had been beg- 
 ging a purchaser at Hong Kong for iis insignificant 
 a sum as £700 but a short time before the contract 
 was entered on! And yet no less than two hun- 
 prcd and sevcnty-flve human beings were confided 
 to her custody or protection, for a voyage of many 
 thousands of miles The shippers alleged on the 
 trial, that they had agreements with every Cooly 
 on board, but being challenged to the proof, only 
 Bixty-nine could be found. After leaving Angicr 
 the ship encountered adverse winds and had to an- 
 chor in the straits of Sunda, till the 12th of April, 
 
 A Maniac Sailor. — A most fearful scene was 
 witnessed in South Shields (England) Market place 
 on Tuesday night. A sailor, named Thomas Cook, 
 who had just returned from a voyage that morning, 
 was noticed to run into St. Hilda's churchyard,and 
 with the agility of a eat clamber up by a spout on 
 during which period the t}-phus fever broke out, (q (i,^ ,.oof ^f that edifice. He then crept along a 
 and by the time they reached St. Helena, on the ; ,vater-way to the steeple, and clinging with his feet 
 
 tenant, we learn, has been invited, and it is to be 
 hoped no prior engagements will prevent his pres- 
 ence on so important an occasion. The Lord May- 
 or and some of our principal citizens will also be 
 present. It is probable, if the ocean cable be safely 
 deposited, that one of the first messages flashed 
 along its wire of three thousand miles will be the 
 arrival of the Indian Empire at Halifax, after a rap- 
 id run of eight days.' 
 
 28th of June, (one hundred and six days from 
 Hong Kong) fifty-five Coolies had died. After 
 .leaving St. Helena, another disease came on and 
 many of the strongest were taken ill and died at a 
 day's notice. The result was that of two hundred 
 and seventy-five who left Hong Kong, the captain 
 was able to land in Cuba only one hundred and 
 seventv-five alive. Thus, one hundred of the poor 
 wretches perished by the way. The prosecution 
 pictured the cruelties practiced on board these Cooly 
 transports as so atrocious as to be almost incredi- 
 ble. The term ot service is nominally eight years, 
 but, the probability is, that not a soul will ever re- 
 turn. 
 
 The IxniAX Empibe.— The Dublin Freeman gives 
 the following account of the Indian Empire, the 
 pioneer of the new line of steamers recently estab- 
 lished, to mn between Galway and the United 
 States:— 
 
 'The gentleman who has undertaken this nation- 
 al enterprise has been punctual in fulfilling his ob- 
 ligation. After all the doubts and suspicions cast 
 on Mr. Lever, he started the Indian Empipe from 
 Southampton at half-past three o'clodt i*.M. on 
 Sunday, and not on Saturday, as erroneously sta- 
 ted in the telegraph messages. To those who think 
 the Indian Empire is not fitted to compete with the 
 Cunard steamers, we may mention that her tonnage 
 and power are not unsuited to the enterprise she is 
 about to inaugurate. Some idea of her capabilities 
 may be formed from the facts that her working pow- 
 er exceeds 1,000 horse power, her paddle wheels 30 
 
 to a ledge running round the sides, not an inch in 
 breadth, dug his fingers into the lime between the 
 stones in the sides of the tower and in a most" mi- 
 raculous manner wrought himself to the outside of 
 it. He looked like a fly on the side of the tower, 
 and the crowd below expected that every moment 
 he would fall and be smashed to pieces. Having got 
 to the outside, he dropped with his hands on to the 
 ledge, and with the weight of his whole body upon 
 thera, managed to make the entire circuit in safety. 
 Having got back to the roof of the church, he 
 smashed his watch and threw it amongst the people 
 He then took off his necktie, coat and linen shirt, 
 tore them into fragments and pitched thera among 
 the crowd, which by this time had numbered sev- 
 eral hundreds. Having disburthened himself of 
 the principal part of his dress, he scattered a quan- 
 tity of coppers and cigars amongst the crowd, 
 and it was thought that he was making ready to 
 leap from the roof to the flags beneath, when he 
 must inevitably have been killed, but the police 
 and a number of young men broke through the bel- 
 fry on to the roof, and though he made a fierce at- 
 tack upon them, they overpowered him and he was 
 removed to the police station, where he was put in- 
 to a strait waistcoat. 
 
 Looking Glass Omens. — To break a looking 
 glass is accounted a very unlucky accident. Should 
 it be a valuable one, this is literally true, which is 
 not always the case in similar superstitions. Mirrors 
 were formerly used by magicians in their diabolical 
 operations; and there was an ancient kind of divi 
 
 feet in diameter, and revolving seventeen times per I nation by the looking glass: hence it would seem, 
 minute. Her length exceeds 300 feet and her j has been derived the present popular notion. The 
 breadth across the paddle boxes is 63 feet. She is breaking of a looking glass betokens that its owner 
 
 worked by a crew of no less than ninety men, and 
 can easily accommodate 1,000 passengers. Durin] 
 the Crimean war she was chartered by the govern- 
 
 will lose his best friend. Potter, in liis antiqui- 
 ties of Greece, says — 
 
 'When divination by water was performed with 
 
 _nent at the rate of £7,500 per month, exclusive of I a looking glass, it was called Catopromancy; some- 
 coals and engine stores, which the government were j times they dipped a looking glass into the water 
 bound to provide. The mail of which the Indian when they desired to know what was to become of a 
 Empire is to take charge, will leave Euston square ' sick person; for, as he looked well or ill in the 
 at five o'clock on Thursday evening, reach the Dub- ' glass, accordingly tbey presumed of his future con- 
 lin Post Office about seven o'clock on Friday morn- 1 dition. Sometimes glasses weie used without wa- 
 in"', and leave the terminus of the SUdland Railway ter.' Grose tells us that 'breakmg a looking glass 
 b/special train, which the directors wiU generously | betokens a mortality in the family, commonly the 
 supply, at half-past eight. The distance to Galway , master.' Buonaparte's superstition upon this point 
 wiU be accomplished in three hours, and then by is often recorded. 'During one of his campaigns 
 allowing one more hour, for the purpose of finally ' in Italy," says M. de Constant, 'he broke the glass 
 completrng the other arrangements in Galway | over Josephene's portrait. He never rested till the 
 th« Indian Empire wUl start on her voyage by ' return of the courier he forthwith diapatched to 
 
 MISCELLANEA. 
 
 He who receives a good turn should never for- 
 get it ; he who does one should never remember it. 
 
 Astrology is to astronomy what alchemy is to 
 chemistry — the ignorant mother of a wise daughter. 
 
 MTiich are the laziest fish in the sea r Oysters — 
 because they are always found in beds. 
 
 "Why do the ladies like the Northeast wind ? Be- 
 cause it brings chaps to their lips. 
 
 ' Boy, boy, where does this road go to ?' 'I don't 
 think it goes anywhere. I always sees un here 
 every morning.' 
 
 There is a young lady in Louisiana who has won 
 a medal for her modesty. She dismissed her lover 
 for remarking in her presence that there was a pros- 
 pect of the wind shift-ing. 
 
 A boy reading the verse, ' This is the heir ; come, 
 let us lull him,' readout, 'this is the haircomb' 
 — and the noise of the other boys drowned the re- 
 mainder. 
 
 Said a friend to the younger Dumas at the Champs 
 Elysees. ' It is astonishing how much those little 
 trees have grown during the past year.' ' Xot at 
 all, retorted the author of Camille, ' they had noth- 
 ing else to do.' 
 
 On one of the state trials, the judge shook his 
 head while Curran was speaking. He could not 
 restrain his wit to the jury : — 'Believe me, gentle- i 
 men, if you remain here many days, you will your- j 
 selves perceive that when his lordship shakes his ] 
 head, there's nothing in it.' 
 
 Husband (out for a night'e rational enjoyment.) 
 That's what I always tell my wife, (hie) bless her 
 little soul. My love, (hie) says I, the only ones 
 that liquor affects are those who can't tell when 
 they've had enough. 
 
 Friend (waking up.) At's 20 ! oldfelah! 
 
 It is not what we earn, but what we save, that 
 makes us rich. It is not what we eat, but what we 
 digest, that makes us fat. It is not what we read, 
 but what we remember, thar makes us learned. 
 All this is Very simple, but it is worth remeraber- 
 
 AUVEKTISEMENTS, 
 
 WILLIAM K. O'BRIEN, 
 
 77 THIKD AVEMUE, NEW YOKK. 
 
 — Manufaotarer of— 
 
 LOOKiyG-GLASS, PORTRAIT 
 
 AND 
 
 PICTURE FRAMES, 
 
 TT/tolesalc and Rtlail. 
 
 Oil Paintings and Engravings framed and varnished. 
 
 Orders promptly executed, paclicd and shipped to any part 
 
 my22 of tlie country. 3m* 
 
 T. P. FOYNES & CO., 
 
 COMMERCIAL, CABD, PLAIX ASD 
 
 ORNAMENTAL JOB PRINTERS, 
 
 No. 40 Devosshibk Street, 
 Corner of Water street, (formerly Gazette Office.) 
 J}3 tf 
 
 WILLIAM PEARCE, 
 
 PL UMBER, 
 
 12 AND 28 CITV EXCHANOE, 
 
 DEVONSHIRE STfiEET, 
 Boirea. 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 351 
 
 ADVEBTISBMENTS. 
 
 riNiS READY MADE CLOTHING 
 
 CUSTOM TAILORING. 
 
 6PRIKG OVEKCOATS, 
 
 BUSINESS COATS, 
 
 TEOK AND DEESS COATS, 
 
 PANTS AND TESTS, 
 Good, Stylish, ^yELL Madk Gakhents, 
 Such as men of tnste aud good judgment will wear, can at 
 all times be louud at our store. 
 Our aim is to produce for our customers the best Ready 
 Made Garments at the lowest possible ritiOEs ffou 
 CASH. 
 
 Readers of this Journal are earnestly solicited to exam- 
 ine our goods before purchasing. 
 
 J W. SMITH & CO., 
 
 Dock Squake, cokkkk Elm Stkket. 
 my 11 tf 
 
 LBUKNIiAM, (formerly junior partner in the firm of 
 • Bdknham iiROTllERS,) has takeu the Uld Stand, 68 
 & UO Cornhill, occupied by the late tiriu, and holds himself 
 in readiness to supply ail orders with which he may be fa- 
 vored. 
 
 Ye Antique Booke Store still flourisheth, 
 
 Asytte dide iu days of yore; 
 
 And ye Bcexham still catereth 
 
 For ye lovers of ancient lore. 
 
 al7 
 
 3t 
 
 SOUTH END CATHOLIC BOOK STOEE, 
 
 And Depot for the Sale of the 
 
 METROPOLITAN AND YOUTHS' MAJiAZlNES. 
 
 WILLIAM KEATING, Ageht, 
 
 8 1-2 Harris 
 
 Que, or at his New Periodical Store, 176 
 Harrison Avenue, Boston, Mass., 
 Where a great variety of the most popular Books and 
 Papers cam be had at the very lowest prices, 
 
 WILL supply Clubs, Agents, Canvassers, &,c.. on the 
 same terms as the Publishers. The lollowing are 
 the terms — 3 copies will be sent by mail, to one address, tor 
 one year S5 ; 6 copies for SIO ; 13 copies for S20 ; 20 copies 
 for S30. 
 
 (ET* On the receipt of g?3, three copies of the Catholic 
 Youth's Magazine and one copy of the Metropolitan will 
 be mailed regularly tor one year. 
 
 07^ A few sets of the Magazines from the beginning, can 
 be had of the Agent. Also, all new books furnished as 
 eoon as published. ap24 3mos 
 
 GENERAL TICKET OFFICE 
 
 — FOK THE — 
 
 SOUTHERN AND WESTERN STATES 
 
 AND 
 
 THE CANADAS, 
 No. 2 Aleaky Street, Boston. 
 
 EDWARD RYAN, Agent. 
 
 N. B. — Passage to and from Liverpool, and Bills of Ex- 
 change on England, Ireland aud Scotland. 
 
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 SAMUEL MASURY. 
 
 PHOTOGRAPH AND DAGUERREOTYPE 
 
 ARTIST. 
 
 289 Washington Street, 
 
 {I7p one flight of stairs) 
 
 Boston. 
 Photographs taken of every size and finished in Oil, Wa- 
 ter, India Ink and l*astel Colors. Daguerreotypes taken in 
 the most superior manner. myl 
 
 WILLIAM D. PARK, 
 
 SHADES HOTEL, 
 
 NO. 2 MORTON PLACE, 
 
 BOSTON. 
 
 WHY BURN GAS BY DAYLIGHT? 
 
 STEPHEN ROE ^ CO., 
 
 INVENTORS and Manufacturers of tlie Improved Day- 
 light Reflector, for diffusing the healthy light of day 
 into all dark places. No. 23 State street, Boston, and No. 
 34 Park street, Baltimore. 
 N. B. Call and see it in operation. 6mfl3 
 
 BS. TREANOR, ATTORNEY anb COUN.SELLOR 
 • AT LAW, 15 Massachusetts Block, Court Square, 
 Boston. 
 
 [C7*Particular attention paid to Conveyancing, and the 
 examination of titles of Real Estate. febl3 
 
 AWrLLIAMS & CO., Wholesale Agents, for the Ieish 
 . Miscellany. The Tiade supplied with Books, Pe- 
 riodicals and Newspapers. Special Agents for Harper & 
 
 AHUSEMENTB. 
 
 BOSTON THEATRE. 
 TiiOMAB Bahuy, Lessee and Blanager. 
 
 Doors open at 7; Performance commences at 7 1-2 o'clock 
 Prices of admission— Private Boxes ISG; I'arquettc, Bul- 
 
 )nv an d 1st Tier 5U cts; Family Circle 26 cts; Ainphithea- 
 
 ■e 16 ct 6. 
 
 BOSTON MUSEUM. 
 
 W. H. Smith, 
 
 Stage Manager. 
 
 Open for the production of Tragidies, Comedies, Spec- 
 tacles, Farces, &c. 
 Exhibition Hall opens at 6 1-2; commences at 7 1-2. 
 I 25 cents; Reserved Seats 50 cents. 
 
 HOWARD ATHENJSUM. 
 
 Jacob Baiuiow, Lessee and Manager. 
 
 Henry Wallack, Stage Manager. 
 
 The Grand Combination every night 
 
 Doors open at 7; Perfoi-mance commences at 7 1-2. 
 Dress Boxes 76 cts; Circle boxes 60 cts; Parquette 50 cts; 
 Orchestra 75 cts; Upper Boxes 25 cts; Gallery 18 cts. 
 
 GILMOEE'b SALEM QUADRILLE BAND. E. UP- 
 TON, Jr.. Prompter. Apply to P. S. Gilmoke, Es- 
 se.x House, Salem, Mass. 3m febl3 
 
 P . MORRIS, 
 
 APOTHECARY, 
 
 Corner of Federal and Purchase streets, foot of Summer 
 
 street, Boston. 
 
 STRICT personal attention paid to componnding Physi 
 clan's Prescriptions. A choice selection of Family 
 Medicines constantly on hand. A well selected stock of 
 genuine imported Perfumery and Fancy Goods. Soda 
 Waterwilh choice Syrups. A large assortment of genuine 
 
 ap5 
 
 »T iiici witu eiiuice oyjups. .rt. jarge 
 
 Havana Segars constantly on band. 
 
 NORTHERN HOUSE, 
 
 NORTH Sf^UARE— boston. 
 
 JOHN GLANCY Proprietor. 
 
 This House has rooms equal to any first class Hotel, and 
 permanent or transient Boarders can be accommodated 
 nearly one half cheaper than at any other House in the 
 City. 
 
 In the Reading Room can be found all the morning and 
 evening papers, and periodicals of the day, together with 
 an extensive Library, for the free and exclusive use of 
 the Boarders. 
 
 N. B. Strangers visiting Boston, can always find this 
 House a Home. 
 
 THE SOUTHERN CITIZEN, 
 
 IS published weekly at Knoxville, Tennessee, by JOHN 
 MPICHELL & WM. G. SWAN, at S2 per annum, or 
 SI for SIX months, payable invariably in advance. 
 
 Mr. Mitchell having commenced in the 28th number of 
 the paper, a series of Letters addressed to the Hon. Alex- 
 ander H. Stephens of Georgia, which when completed will 
 furnish an entire history of 
 
 THE IRISH TROUBLES OF 1848, 
 
 With their Causes and Consequences, 
 
 The Southern Citizen will be the more interesting to both 
 Amei'ican and Irish readers. Besides these contributions 
 from Mr. Mitchel, the Southern Citizen will continue to 
 have its usual quantity of original matter upon political 
 and literary subjects prepared by him. I'he circulation, 
 though large and constantly increasing, the proprietors 
 have thought will be much more extended by an announce- 
 ment in this form. 
 
 Communications with remittances may be addresed to 
 Mitchel & Swan, Knoxville, Tennessee, or to any of the 
 following Agents: 
 
 S G Courtenay & Co, Charleston, SC; Thomas B O'Con- 
 nor, .Savannah, Ga; J C Morgan, New Orleans, La; Jas A 
 Gentrv, Qichmond, Va; Alexander Adamsou, Washington 
 cifv; tallinage& Tunner, Cincinnati, O; PM Havertv, 110 
 Fulton street, N Y; S H Goetzel, 33 Dauphin street. Mobile 
 Ala; Benj B Davis, Masonic Building, Montgomerv, Ala; 
 Ross & Toucey, 121 Nassau street, N Y, sunpiv dealers only 
 upon reasonable terms; James McGinn, 121 Kearney street 
 San Francisco. 
 
 •,* Clubs of ten will be supplied with the paper for .?15. 
 
 SUBSCRIBE! SUBSCRIBE! SUBSCRIBE! 
 
 THE IRISH MISCELLANY 
 
 PICTURE GALLERY. 
 
 iMDtJCEMEKTS TO NEW SDBSCRIBERB. 
 
 On Saturday, the 8d of July next, we shall present to 
 each subscriber to the Irish I'ictorial Miscellany, a ^pk•udi(^ 
 Lithographic Engraving, representing tlie glorious scene, 
 which occuried shortly before the capture of Limerick, 
 when General Sarslield, who commanded the Irish horse, 
 having learned that a large supply of heavy seige guns waa 
 on the way to the camp of the I'rincc of Orange, resolved 
 to capture them. Crossing over the country by a difhcult 
 and circuitous rout, so as to intercept the convoy, lie came 
 up in front of it at Killenuniona, atlacked William's 
 troops, deleatcd them and compelled them to retreat IJelore 
 the Irish horse, leaving their artillery in the hands of Sars- 
 field. 
 
 Having to rejoin the garrison at Limerick, Sarsfield knew 
 it would be impossible to carry with him the heavy Eng- 
 lish guns through the mountain pastes, and defeiniiued lo 
 destroy them. He ordered lliem to be charged to their ut- 
 most capacity, and imbedded deeply in the earth, witli the 
 whole of the baggage train, which also fell into his hands. 
 A train being lain, the spark was applied and in a few sec- 
 onds the seige artillery of William was sbatlered into innu- 
 merable fragments This gallant feat astonished the Eng- 
 lish troops, gave new courage to the Irish, and added to 
 the great popularity of the gallant Sarsfield. The explo- 
 sion shook the earth for miles around, and was heaid at an 
 immense distance. 
 
 It is at the moment of the explosion of the English ar- 
 tillery which our artist has siezed upon for the subject of 
 his pencil. 
 
 This memorable event will be faithfully and accurately 
 portrayed. It has not hitherto, given inspiration, as far as 
 we can learn to any of our Irish ai tis-ts, and shall now have 
 amble justice done it. It will make a beautiful picture. 
 We shall present it to our readers on a sheet of hue draw- 
 ing paper, separate from the Miscellany, suitable for 
 framing. 
 
 It will at once be seen that we cannot do this without a 
 greatoutlay of capital. Vv'e expect to be reiniburted by a 
 very large addition to our subscription list, as i,o person 
 will be entitled to it who has not paid on or before tlie 3d 
 of July next one years' subscription in advance, dating 
 from our firstnumber. ^ 
 
 Non subscribers will be supplied at Sl,.''i0 for each niate 
 
 We are resolved that our subscribes shall pottcss a -pic- 
 ture gallery' worthy of the events ive propose to coniniem- 
 orate. This will be the first of a series of national pic- 
 tures we propose presenting gratis lo our regular subset ib- 
 ers the second picture of the series will be ready early in 
 October, the subject of which is not yet decided on. We 
 should feel obliged to any of our friends who possess old 
 pictures of remarkable events in Irish history, or portraits 
 of distinguished Irishmen, to forward them to us. Thev 
 shall be taken good care of. and returned. 
 
 Let our friends see to their subscripfionsin season Our 
 Picture Gallery will be fit to adorn the walls of any gentle- 
 man's house in the country, and will, we hope, eventuallv 
 supersede the wretched daubs which ate often met with 
 
 Our arrangements for the first picture are almost com- 
 pleted. It will be absolutely necessary that we should 
 know immediately the number of plates we shall want 
 i.et our subscribers therefore, send in their subscriptions 
 without delay, and be careful to give us their correct ad 
 dress. We shall not strike ofl- any more copies than are 
 ordered before the above date. 
 
 Will our friends of tl'C press please notice thisnewfea- 
 tnre in our publication, aud we will take care that their 
 sanctums are adorned with choice copies of this national 
 picture. 
 
 
 DO'ROURKE, rcspect(\illy informe his friends and the 
 , public, that he keeps constantiv on hand COFFINS 
 of all sizes and kinds, at his Collii: 'Manufactory, No. 317 
 Federal, between Beach and Kneeland Streets, Boston, 
 which he will sell as reasonable as can be bought at any oth- 
 er place in the city. 
 
 N. 1!.— Orders punctually attended to, day or night. 
 
 Residence, No. 23 South streel, Boston. 
 
 {E?~Grave-Clothe6 furnished to order at short notice. 
 
 feblS 
 
 THE IRISH VINDICATOR, 
 
 A WEEKLY NEWSPAPER, 
 
 The Best and Cheapest Published in America. 
 
 THIS splendid Paper, which is little over nine months 
 in existence, has met with the 
 MOST WONDERFUL SUCCESS, 
 and has been pronounced by the Press and the Public to be 
 superior to any other Irish Weekly in the United States. 
 
 It contains each week, the very 
 Latest News prom every County in Ireland ■ 
 Original and entertaining 
 STORIES AND ANECDOTES, 
 and a variety of Miscellaneous Reading matter, of a charac- 
 ter which cannot fad to elevate and chasten the intel 
 lectual appetite. The Irish Vindicator is devoted 
 TO THE INTERESTS OF IRISHMEN IN AMERICA 
 and is so cheap as to be within the reach of the poorest. 
 
 ONLY THREE CENTS A COPY. 
 
 the following ark the terms 
 
 To any part of the United States, for one year SI 60 
 
 Do- rio. do. for 8 months', 1.00 
 
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 T . /,°- ., .^°- fo''! month, 0.12 
 
 To any part of Canada or the British Provinces, one year 
 
 ii?2,00— All payments in advance. ' 
 
 FOR ADVERTISING, 
 
 12 lines, single insertion Sl.OO I 12 lines, 1 month, 82.50 
 12 do. 3 months, 5.60 1 12 do. 1 year, 16.00 
 
 Published every w-cek, at the Office, No 10 Spruce street 
 New York, by the Proprietors. ' 
 
 EDWARD DOVVNES CONNERY & CO 
 
 New York, march 27 
 
 PASSENGER CERTIFICATES. 
 
 ■^0 OLD COUNTRY3IEN. OWEN Mc Namaea han 
 . Passage Certificates and Drafts always on hand and 
 rsalc. As be docs bu.-iine.«s for that liio-t resnectnhlo 
 
 desiring to send for their friends, or remit mone," Would 
 ^°_"l'iJS.^'i«'"'?. »."=»" at No. 4 GORBAM St.. opposito 
 
 «p2u 
 
 Siinuner St., LowtU, Mass 
 

 
 
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 * 
 
 Selects tvprcssli) far tljc |ri$Ij |ili$tcllaiii). 
 
 ge^Erf 
 
 8. 4. 5. 
 
 " O Erin, my country ! though sad and forsaken, "Where now is my cabin door.fast by the wild wood ? "But yet. all its fond recollections suppressing, 
 
 In dreams I revisit thy soabeaten shore ; Sisters and sire, did ye weep fcir its fall V One <lyin2r wish my (bud bo?om shall draw ; 
 
 But, alas ! in a far, forei>;n land I awaken, Where is the mother, that looked on my childhood ? Erin ! an exile bequeithes thee his blessing I 
 
 And sigh for the friends that can meet me no more ; And where is my bosom friend, dearerthan all V Land of my fbrcfaihei-s 1 Erin go braph ! 
 And thou, cruel Fate I wilt thou never replace me Ah ! my sad soul, long abandoneil by pleasure ! Buried and cold, when my heart stills its motion, 
 In a mansion of peace, where no perils can chase me ? Why did it dote on a fast-fadin;; treasure ? Green be thy fields, sweetest isle of the ocean ! 
 
 Ah I never again shall my brothers embrace me ! Tears, like the rain drops, may fail without measure, And thy harp-striking bards sing aloud, with devotion, 
 
 They died to defend me, or live to deplore. But rapture and beauty they cannot recall. Erin ma vourneeu I sweet Erin go bragh !" 
 
 • There was a rontmversy, fbr jome time, going on »l>oul the nuthorslilp of Ihw beiuliful song. Fora long while it wa? atlrihuted to the Feotti«h pc<-l. Thomas Caniplwll ; and even 
 Moort. believed U ; but the sworn erldenee. very lengthy and clrcunist.intbl, of Minj llcynolds. the sliter of the lale Owrji^ N'ug.nt Iteynol l.i. of WMtmcath. proves it » have been tha 
 prodiirtlon of her brother, for she was in the habit of wrilinjj hU poetical oomposlllons, and took down from hU lips the " Kiilo of Krin," which ho addressed to his eiiloJ friend, In America, 
 Joo McConnlck. the companion of Macneven and Kmmet In prison. 
 
VOLUME I— NUMBER 23. ] 
 
 BOSTON, SATURDAY, JULY I7, 1858. 
 
 [ PRICE FOUR CENTS. 
 
 THE GATE OF VOUCHAL. 
 
 The town of Youghal, although situated in a retired 
 district in the southern extremity of our island, con- 
 tains many interesting remnants of antiquity. The 
 collegiate church, which was generally esteemed the 
 finest specimen of pointed architecture to be met with 
 in Ireland, as well as several other remains, will be 
 found minutely descrbed in the present number of the 
 Miscellany. The town lies at the foot of a long and 
 steep hill, and consists of one street, about a mile in 
 length, with several smaller streets, branching from 
 the chief line of thoroughfare. 
 
 It was a walled town, and several detached remains 
 of the walls, and the towers by which they were sup- 
 ported, may still be traced in different parts of the 
 suburbs. The engraving which we present below, 
 gives a correct representation of the clock-gate. 
 
 In 1579, the Earl of Desmond, then in rebellion, laid 
 siege to the town so long fostered by his family, and 
 on the surrender of the place, he gave it up to indis- 
 criminate plunder, not excepting even the religious 
 foundations. It was, for a short time, garrisoned in 
 favor of the rebel earl, by his relative, the seneschal of 
 
 Imokilly. In the confusion of the plunder all the in- 
 habitants, save one poor friar alone, had fled from the 
 town; and the seneschal was soon under the necessity 
 of relinquishing this place, through a want of provis- 
 ions. It was then garrisoned by the Earl of Ormonde, 
 and Coppinger, the mayor, who had surrendered to 
 Desmond, was hanged at his o\vn door. 
 
 In 1.5S2, the seneschal of Imokilly endeavored to re- 
 gain this place, and succeeded in scaling the walls, but 
 was ultimately repulsed, with the loss of fifty of hit 
 followers. 
 
 THE GATE OF YOUGHAL. 
 
354 
 
 IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 Kichanl, first Karl of Cork, choso Youghal for his 
 qnarters in the civil wars which commenct'd in 1641, 
 and ho died hero in Soptemlu r, IGt.'l. An iirmy, in 
 iho Irish inlcn-st, unler the coiimiiind of the Earl of 
 Cnsilchavon, hiy lieloro YoUKlial for nearly ten weeks, 
 in 1613: hut the uMsnilunta were not prcpurtd for a 
 regular siej-e, and they retired on succor arriving to 
 the town from Lord Rroghill. Itwii.s here ihat Oliver 
 Cromwell conoluded his terrilic pro-^-iess through Ire- 
 land. The place yielded to him wiiliout any ciVort 
 at resistance, and he embarked I'niui this port for Eng- 
 land. 
 
 As you enter the town from the C\)rk side, the first 
 tiling that strikes the eye is the new convent, a plain 
 building of coiisiderahle size, hut of no arcliirectural 
 pretensions. Close by is the new church, wlii.-h was 
 built a few years ago as chapel-ofease. It is rather a 
 neat looking huiljing, hut in that spurothic Guios 
 stvle, which we have had, more than once before, oc- 
 casion to censure. Both edilices arc built on the 
 grounds formerly occupied by an abbey of black friars. 
 In digging the foundation of the church, an innumera- 
 ble quantity of sculls, and other human hones were 
 discovered, which clearly indicated it to have been a 
 cemetery. Two stone collins were fiund, but were 
 again carefully placed in their oiiginal position. 
 
 The church of St. M.ry's has long been coniiidered 
 the certre of attraction iu Voughal — not so much for 
 the magnificent burial-ground which surroumls it, as 
 for the architectural beauties of that once truly noble 
 edifice. It is situated at the north part of the town; 
 but little of its former splendor is now to be seen, with 
 the exception of the choir, which still retains traits of 
 its 'former glory.' The rest is so di.sguised in 'modern 
 improvements,' that it would puzzle an experienced 
 antiquarian to recognize this once beautiful church. 
 The tripplo roof has given place to a shapeless, sunken, 
 patchcd-up covering, ornamented on either side with 
 dormant windows. A square belfrey stands at the left 
 hand side of the church, wrapped in a mantle of ivy, 
 proudly scowling down upon those unworthy innova- 
 tions. About eighty years since, the last of the fretted 
 ceiling was taken down, several accidents having oc- 
 curred by the falling of portions of it. The ground 
 ■was of rich blue, on which was represented the host of 
 heaven; the stars being of Irish oak, richly gilt. The 
 present is a plain, plastered ceiUng. Gone as 'its 
 glory' is, however, the east windows of the unroofed 
 choir will amply compensate the time of the visitor. 
 
 Youghal has undergone a considerable change within 
 the last few years, by the rebuilding of several old and 
 tottering houses — the introduction of gas — the regular 
 cleansing and paving of the streets. The Devonshire 
 Inn may be reckoned among the improvements,as also 
 the savings' bank — a very neat little building, with cut 
 stoue front. 
 
 Several other favorable circumstances have recently 
 operated in its favor. It is now a place of considera 
 ble business in the com and provision export-trade, 
 and may, altogether, be esteemed as a place of consid- 
 erable respectability. 
 
 THE DREAMERS. 
 
 A T.VLE or IRIS)! LIFE. 
 
 It was on a fine harvest morning, when nature, 
 decorated in her rich robe of matured beauty, wears 
 the smiling appearance of pleasure and plenty, that 
 old Nona na bocough (Nona the Cripple) sat on the 
 little bench out.slde of her cabin door. She was up, 
 'and stirring earlier than usual on this particular 
 morning, and she ga/.ed round her enquiringly, as 
 the rising sun darted his yet nearly horizontal beams 
 OTcr the landscape full against the walls of her cot- 
 tage, which was situated in a little woody dingle by 
 the side of a large rath, and at a little distance be- 
 fore her door ran a sweet clear babbling brook. 
 Nona lived alone — a solitary being — no person knew 
 who she was, for she came a stranger to the coun- 
 try, and she had the wisdom to keep her own secret. 
 She knew no one out of the village, and few except 
 her near neighbors ever paid her a visit ; but by 
 
 them she was loved and respected. Still she seemed 
 a person who had at one time mixed with M'hat 
 might be comparatively termed genteel society ; she 
 had much experience and worldly wisdom, and 
 made herself as useful to the simple people about 
 her, by her advice and instructions, as by her skill 
 in fashioning their different articles of dress. She 
 was shrewd, yet su4)erstitious withal, and a great 
 observer of signs and prognostics. She visited the 
 sick, and prescribed simple remedies, cliielly com- 
 posed of herbs with the nature of some of which she 
 seemed to be partially acquainted ; and the rustics 
 had more faith and eontidence in her medicines than 
 i in the prescription of the most celebrated physician 
 She looked sharply about her as she sat at her cab- 
 in door this beautiful morning. 
 
 ' Well,' she said, thinking aloud, ' it's not for 
 nothing that the rap came to my door so early, be- 
 fore the birds were awake on the boughs — and it's 
 not a good sign to see a black beast or bird first in 
 the morning — and I did not like that raven I saw 
 flying about Ulick Maguire's house when I looked 
 out — besides, I have been dreaming that one of my 
 teeth fell out last night ; umph ! I'll lose a friend 
 — I'll lose a friend that's certain ; however the will 
 of God be done ; he knows what is best for us, what 
 we can't know ourselves ; and that he'll give us, 
 glory be to his high and holy name. But as I live 
 here's Kathleen coming in haste — I hope there is no 
 harm." 
 
 The person she spoke of was a young girl about 
 fourteen or fifteen years of age who with flying hair, 
 flushed countenance, kilted petticoat, and bare legs, 
 came running to her. 
 
 ' Well, Kathleen, do you want me, or what is the 
 matter with you ?' 
 
 ' Oh, Nona, the misthress wants you above the 
 world ; she says you must come over immediately ; 
 she has something to say to you.' 
 
 ' Is she sick, Kathleen ? — is Ulick sick ? — or has 
 anything happened good or bad ?' 
 
 ' Why they are all well, thank you kindly, Nona 
 — but the misthress is some way uneasy in her mind 
 and wants to see you about it.' 
 
 ' Well, tell her, Kathleen, that^ I'll be over after 
 you the very mlnit I put on my clean cap and ker- 
 chief. I'll make no delay.' 
 ' Well, good morning, Nona.' 
 ' Good morning, Kathleen, and God bless you, 
 child ; and mark you to his holy grace and amen.' 
 Away ran Kathleen with the speed of a frightened 
 doe, and old Nona pursued her soliloquy. 
 
 ' Well, as I said before, the Lord bless us and 
 keep us, I am afraid there is something bad over 
 some one in the neighborhood — Heaven preserve 
 Ulick Maguire and his family at any rate, for they 
 are good.' 
 
 Ulick Maguire was a farmer in Nona's neighbor- 
 hood, who married about six months previous an 
 interesting girl to whom he had long been attached, 
 and by whom he was tenderly beloved. He was in 
 very happy circumstances, and generally esteemed 
 by those around him as an obliging neighbor and a 
 good, sensible, well conducted young man. Mary, 
 his handsome wife, was sitting, in a melancholy 
 posture with her head leaning on her palm, by the 
 fire side, when old Nona made her appearance at 
 the cottage door. 
 
 • God bless and save this house and all that's in 
 it, and all that's out of it belonging to it ; may 
 neither sickness, sorrow, trouble, or unquietness ever 
 enter under the roof,' said Nona, devoutli crossing 
 herself as she entered. 
 
 ' You're welcome Nona,' said Mary, ' sit down 
 here and rest yourself.' 
 
 'Well, child,' said Nona, taking a seat opposite 
 the young woman, and looking earnestly and anx- 
 iously into her face ; ' what is it that troubles your 
 mind ': — You don't look to-day, Kko the smiling 
 girl, I saw here on Sunday last — but tell me, what 
 is it that troubles you ?' 
 
 ' Oh ! Nona, I had such a horrid dream last night, 
 that I think still that it is half real it terrified mo 
 so, my heart is beating fearfully yet. 
 
 ' Dreams my child,' said the sagacious old wo- 
 man, ' often come from (iod; but there are many 
 which we do wrong in attending to ; indeed almost 
 every one, so don't let this trouble you.' 
 
 ' Hut Nona, this was such a one as I never dream- 
 ed before in my whole life ; it nmkes me shudder 
 even now ; but I will tell you, Nona, and you are 
 a wise woman to judge for yourself. I thought I 
 was on the road by Shemus dhumorc O'Flanagan's, 
 (big black James) who you know was courting me a 
 long time, and was so very mad when I married 
 Ulick that he vowed he'd have revenge ; and though 
 the priest told him the sin of it, and the badness of 
 what he said, still he is a dark budhough (churl) 
 and won't forget; well, I thought I was there, and 
 that I had a beautiful hound along with me that I 
 was very fond of, and that a great raven dashed at 
 liiin and killed him in an instant ; and that he then 
 tore out his bowels and flew away with his heart. 
 I then thought I was running home when I met a 
 funeral and all the people sprinkled with blood ; 
 and a stream of blood flowed from the coflin down 
 to the ground. I thought they stopped me and laid 
 the coflin at my feet, and they opened the lid and. 
 shewed me Ulick all murdered, and his heart tore 
 out. I was so frightened that I awoke and I can't 
 content me to do even my business about the house.' 
 'The Lord preserve all we wish well,' said Nona, 
 ' and keep them out of the hands of their enemies 
 and — ' 
 
 Here she was interrupted by Taudien, a poor 
 harmless idiot, Ulick's first cousin, whose parents 
 were dead ; he lived with Ulick and was attached to 
 him with that degree of fondness which a dog bears 
 his master. Paudien thrust his face in at the door, 
 with an unmeaning grin, which betrays the imbecile 
 being who is deprived of reason. 
 
 ' Ha ! ha ! ha !' he mirthfully exclaimed. 
 
 •Riddle me, riddle>e right, 
 
 Tell me what I dhrearat last night? 
 
 All the birds in the air, all the lish in the fay, 
 
 CouUl'Dt tell me what's that dhreaiu to-day.' 
 ' Oh, Paudien, go away,' said Mary, your break- 
 fast is not ready yet, avick, go away like a good 
 boy.' 
 
 ' Let him alone,' said Nona, ' till we hear what 
 he says about his dream.' 
 
 ' Did you dream too •' he asked as he advanced 
 cautiously inside the door ; then recognising Nona, 
 ' the queen ov the fairies scatther a shower of bless- 
 ings on you.' 
 
 'There was an ould woman that lived alone, 
 Alone, alone. 
 
 She'd a cat, three ducks and a hen, all her own, 
 Her own, her own.' 
 
 ' But I'll vinture to gether a bag ov misheroons 
 (mushrooms) as big as the horn of Knockarce for 
 any of you's that 'ill guess my dhrcam." 
 
 ' Come, Paudien,' said Nona, soothingly, ' come 
 like a good boy, and tell me, your dream! to me 
 Paudien.' 
 
 'lla! ha! ha! jiushccn cat, 
 (Jod bless yoursuwl and j;i' ine that.' 
 ' Well, then, I'll tell you — listen to it all ; listen 
 
 I say !' 
 
 'Hie beak was dripping with warm gore, 
 The bowels fl-om out the good hound he tore; 
 Willi his rnven wing lie flapped his prey, 
 Then he croaked and (lew v\ilh the heart away.' 
 'Then again, are you's listenin' :' 
 'Then there cnme a coffin and pall. 
 With a crowd, and bearers, and kccncrs and all, 
 And blood was sprinkled on all around, 
 And streamed from the coflin along the ground.' 
 'Oh, Nona dear,' said Mary, convulsively seizing 
 
 the old woman's hand, ' my very dream ! as I live 
 
 and breathe there is something in such dreaming ; 
 
 you look sad too, Nona, what do you think :' 
 
 ' Make yourseK easy,' said Nona, ' he might have 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 355 
 
 been listening to you telling me about it. The dream 
 itself is certainly an ujijly one I acknowledge, but 
 then, God is good and _ merciful, and you are too 
 good, Mary, and Ulick's too good to deserve the 
 Almighty's anger, so don't fret child ; but put your 
 trust in him that never deceives, and pray to him 
 to turn away any evil that may hang over you.' 
 
 Nona sought to calm the agitation of the trem- 
 bling girl, catching even at the shadow of a proba- 
 bility to hide the ftars that rose in her bosom, and 
 the evident alarm created by the coincidence of Ma- 
 ry's fearful dream with that of the innocent Pau- 
 dien. Still Mary was uneasy ; thoughts that she 
 could not control forced themselves on her : 
 
 *A secret srief was at her heart.' 
 Secret even to herself. 
 
 Ulick came in to his breakfast, and observed Ma- 
 ry silent and sad, though she was evidently forcing 
 herself to taste the victuals ; but he soon perceived 
 the efforts she was making to appear even easy. 
 
 'Mary dear,' he ten^derly enquired, 'what is 
 it that makes you so downcast this morning ? has 
 any thing occurred to fret you ? you don't look so 
 pleasant as you used to do ; why don't you take 
 your breakfast, Mary dear ?' 
 
 ■ ' I can't, TJlick, I can't eat ; my heart is full and 
 my mind is uneasy ; I can't eat any thing this morn- 
 ing.' 
 
 ' AVell, tell me, Mary, what troubles you, you 
 know I can't bear to see you so; and Mary, if you 
 love me,' (here his tone assumed a something of ear- 
 nestness, and Mary looked up in his face anxiously 
 and reprovingly, yet tenderly,) ' and I know you 
 do,' he added mildly, ' tell me what it is that has 
 made your heart full.' 
 
 ' Oh ! Ulick,' she sighed, ' I am very foolish I be- 
 lieve, and I shouldn't give way to half the fancies 
 that come into my weak head ; but you have sense 
 TJlick, and won't mind what a poor giddy girl like 
 me thinks ; but don't laugh at me ; tell me I am 
 wrong, but don't laugh at me when my heart is sor- 
 rowful.' 
 
 'No, Mary dear,' tenderly replied the now alarm- 
 ed husband, ' I won't laugh at you ; but for heaven's 
 sake don't keep me in this state any longer ; if it is 
 any thing bad, tell me at once ; I am thinking of 
 fifty things ; wliat is it that makes you miserable, 
 and makes me miserable looking at you ?' 
 
 'Oh ! Ulick, I was dreaming about you last night 
 a terrible bad dream, and I was so frighted that I 
 Bent for Nona na bocough this morning, and she 
 Bays ' , 
 
 ' Psha ! and is that all,' interrupted Ulick, ' and 
 are'nt you or ought'nt you be ashamed to give way 
 to such fooling, and to alarm and frighten people 
 from their breakfast with such childish nonsense 
 that even the omedhaun Paudh wouldn't think of 
 such things.' 
 
 Here Paudien thrust in his wliimsical physiog- 
 nomv and sung in his wild strains : — 
 
 'Hie beak was dripping, with warm gore. 
 The bowel.i from out the good hound he tore; 
 With raveu wing lie flapped hia prey, 
 Then he croaked and Hew with the lieart away.' 
 
 'Ha! ha! ha! who'd think the ugly prjhaun 
 (raven or crow) could kill such a purty dog all out! 
 but where was Shcmus dhu more and his gun ? fire ! 
 In : h:i! ha!" 
 
 ' Then there came a cofiin and paH, 
 
 With a crowd, and Ceurers, and keenera and all; 
 
 And blood was sprinkled on all arodud, 
 
 And it atreamed from the colliu along the ground.' 
 
 ' There now, listen to that — see if poor Paudien 
 
 hasn't been dreaming the very thing that I dreamed : 
 i O, Ulick ! there is something in this — there is% 
 
 heavy cloud hanging over me that I can't account 
 
 for, I am so much afraid — ' 
 ' ' Well, well, sure no one ever heard the like ! — a 
 
 woman and a fool — get out of that you rhyming 
 ' omedhaun, and if I catch you out of the com field 
 
 this day, I will lay the blackthorn on your lazy 
 back.' 
 
 ' Oh ! Ulick, don't speak cross to him the creature 
 — the hand of God is heavy on him, and he's so 
 quiet and harmless tliat no one could have the heart 
 to hurt him.' 
 
 ' Well for God's sake, Mary let me have no more 
 of this ; I'm going to the fair, so make yourself easy 
 till I come back, — you know I'll be home early.' 
 
 The fair was held in a little town, about twomiles 
 from the house of Ulick Magulre ; his business was 
 but of a trifling nature, and he expected to be soon 
 home ; but the meeting with one friend or another 
 delayed him, and the night was falling fast and dark- 
 ly, when Ulick turned to retrace his way to his own 
 comfortable fire-side — but he never reached it alive ; 
 yes, it is useless to conceal the thing for the sake of 
 eff'ect, Ulick was murdered that very night. 
 
 Poor Mary was anxiously expecting him the whole 
 evening — night fell and she could not conceal her 
 fears : hour after hour passed, still no sign of Ulick, 
 and she became more and more alarmed, she pro- 
 ceeded to the town with one of the servant boys and 
 the girl Kathleen ; they inquired at every place 
 where it was likely he might have called during the 
 day, but they only heard that he was leaving the 
 town in the evening by himself. They came home 
 again — the night passed, a sleepless night with Ma- 
 ry — the morning dawned, no sign of Ulick, all was 
 wonder and alarm. But what can paint their as- 
 tonishment and horror ? what words that 1 could 
 use could convey an adequate idea of the scene, when 
 poor Paudien leapt from his bed, and exclaimed, 
 with all the energy he was capable of using. 
 
 ' Ulick is kilt !— Shemus dhu more kilt him, and 
 buried him under the new ditch at the back of the 
 garden; I dhreamt it all last night, every word of 
 it. Now the ugly prehaun done his duty.' 
 
 The neighbors crowded in ; some went to amagis- 
 trate, and informed him of the mysterious affair; 
 he came to the hou;e, and heard the story from the 
 distracted Mary. The new ditch at the back of 
 O'Flanagan's garden was quickly levelled, and, be- 
 neath a certain part, the body of Ulick Maguire was 
 discovered, with the skull nearly severed in two ; 
 search was made, but in vain, for O'Flanagan, he 
 had absconded. 
 
 The murderer is destined never to enjoy peace ; 
 waking or sleeping, his conscience acts the coujuror 
 to his terrified imagination, bringing up in dreadful 
 array the varied scenes of horror and crime in which 
 he has been engaged. So it was with James O'Flan- 
 agan, who, after making his escape, pursued his 
 way to Dublin, where he enlisted in the reg- 
 iment of foot, then embarking for England. But 
 he was a man different in manners and appearance 
 from his light-hearted, frank, gay, and careless 
 comrades, with whom ho mixed but little ; he never 
 joined in their drinking bouts — shared in their noisy 
 revel, or took part in their gleesome mirth. Re- 
 served and dark, he appeared apart from the rest 
 coiled up in himself— a shadow seemed to rest on 
 him. He seldom smiled, and when he did, it was 
 the heartless corrugation of bitterness, without the 
 slightest brightning of pleasure. His nights were 
 disturbed and restless ; his sleep broken and un- 
 retreshing, often starting with a wild terrific scream 
 from his horrifying dreams. His mooily manner was 
 at first remarked by his comrades as strange, and 
 would wear away, or they thought his melancholy 
 occasioned by sorrow for leaving those who were 
 dear to his heart. But when some months passed 
 away, and when instead of being in some degree 
 reconciled to his new life, or making free with the 
 companions of his barrack-room by day, and his 
 guarded-watch by night, he became more apathetic 
 and morose, they shunned him as a ra.nn who had 
 some hidden crime weighing on his mind, though 
 what that might be, they of course could not tell. 
 
 One night he was on guord with some twenty 
 
 Grenadiers, (the company to which he belonged ;) 
 those who were not actually at their post, were a."!- 
 sembled round a blazing fire, telling old stories of 
 their young home-days, or chatting of their old ad- 
 ventures by ' flood and field.' O'Flanagan did not 
 join the group ; he lay extended in silence and alone 
 on the guard bed. 
 
 ' Come, Dick Anderson, give us a song, we'll all go 
 noddin', like Jem Flanagan there, if you don't sing 
 us something to rouse us,' said one of the men, to a 
 young hale Englishman with a fair brow, who sat 
 enjoying the fumes of his pipe, with all the gusto of 
 an epicure. 
 
 ' Then by gom, you shall wait Jack, till I ha' got- 
 ten this yere smoke to an end ; I have no notion 
 as how a man can sing and smoke a pipe at one 
 time.' 
 
 ' Whistle, and chaw male,' said a deep sonorous 
 Irish brogue-tipped voice in the corner. 
 
 ' Why, that's true Dick,' said the man who first 
 made the request, ' take your whiff— pull away my 
 hearty,' and Dick enjoyed his pipe some minutes 
 longer. 
 
 I say, comrades,' said another, ' did you hear the 
 news r' 
 
 'No,' said one, ' what ?' said another. 
 
 ' Why,' said the first, ' t hear there's a man to be 
 flogged to-moirow, three hundred on the bare back.' 
 
 ' Who is he ?' asked one, ' what did he do ?' in- 
 quired another. 
 
 ' Why, he kept his pipe in his mouth till he smoked 
 it down to the very bottom," answered the first 
 ' such being contrary to the general rules and reon- 
 lations, the standing orders, and mutiny act, and 
 conduct unbecoming a soldier and a man.' 
 
 Dick quietly resigned his pipe to this indirect 
 claimant. 
 
 ' Gome now, Dick, let us have a verse my son, 
 your own favorite.' 
 
 ' Why, now,' said Dick, ' I think I feel as though 
 I should loike to have a drink of water.' 
 
 ' Come, fetch Dick the bucket,' and with a long 
 and deep draught he slaked his thirst. 
 
 'Now,' said Dick, 'the very best day of my life 
 I should prefer a good pull of yale to that there pure 
 sort of stuff.' 
 
 * Ay, ay, Dick, we don't doubt you, but let us 
 have the song,' and Dick after a few hems to clear 
 his pipes, with a full harmonious voice trolled forth 
 this merry ditty. 
 
 SOLDIER'S SONG. 
 
 Come my love— O come with me, 
 
 And oh ! how happy we shall be : ^ 
 
 O'er the mountain — o'er the sea, 
 
 We'll rove along so merrily. 
 
 Woe, shall never come us night, 
 
 Sorrows always pass us by ; 
 
 Leaving reckless as the wind. 
 
 Care a long day's march behind. 
 
 Hark the bugles blithely play. 
 Come, with thy soldier, come away; 
 To let me go aloue's a sin. 
 Life's campaign let both begin ; 
 Thine eye shall be my banner star. 
 My hope, my ibrtuuein the war: 
 My pride, my glory all shall be, 
 A look, a smile, a kiss from thee. 
 
 Hark the sprightly fife and drum. 
 Call thee away, come then love come; 
 Though the battle plain may be our bed, 
 Jly cloak the curtain round us spread — 
 Scathe uor danger need'sl thou iear, 
 My love, my life. I'll still be near; 
 Ten thousand hearts but half thine own, 
 Are not worth one that's thine alone. 
 
 Our care but small, our wants but few, 
 Thy pillow still this bosom true; 
 I'ond and constant at tli)' .«ide. 
 Harm nor hurt shall thee betide; 
 All things sweet I'll thee provide, 
 It then wilt be thy soldier's bride; 
 And bli.'-s shall smile, and honor shine, 
 When I think my love that thou art mine. 
 
ye 
 
 IRISn MISCELLANY. 
 
 ' Bravo Dick — thnt you may never lose the use of 
 your voiie.' 
 
 ' Bravo, bruvo I' was echoed from all quarters. 
 
 Still O'l'lunagan lay extended motionlens on the 
 guard-bed, uudisturb<>d by the noisy mirth around 
 him. 
 
 'Now,' said Dick Anderson, with the tone of one 
 who has a ri^ht to make a demand, ' I should loike 
 very well to hear Moran there, spin us a yarn about 
 them ere fairies, and such loike folk as he knows so 
 well about. 
 
 ' Xo e.xcuse Moran, you heard Dick's song, and 
 you must give him a story ; out w ith it old boy.' 
 
 • Oh !' said another, ' let him alone for that, Moran 
 was never backward in his part where fun or light- 
 ing was going on.' 
 
 ' Well, an sure boys." began Jloran, with all the 
 readiness of his nation, and the rich patois af a Con- 
 naught brogue, ' myself id be sorry to refuse you's 
 any thing in rason, when we're so leg'lar entirely. 
 Now I'll tell you's about an aunt's cousin, ov ray 
 own, and what happened him one night. Do you's 
 know where Lough Corrib is ? O, the sorra know 
 1 suppose ; well iv you don't, I do ; and that'll do 
 for us all, so you's all know Lough Corrib now as 
 •well as I do. Well, tlicre was a young man once 
 upon a time, coortin a purty young girl ov course, 
 they were coortin for a long time, and used to meet 
 every night in a shweet little shpot down by the 
 lake. But to make my long story short, the big 
 blackguard decaved the crethur, 'till she didn't 
 know what id become ov her. ' Will you marry me 
 Teady Jewell,' says she one night, ' an I in the con- 
 dition I am in ?' ' Divil a bit at thispresint, Aileen,' 
 says he ; ' I'm goin to go to England, but maybe it 
 id do phen I come back.' 'Well becomes her,' says 
 she ; I'll go .to Father Luke, an he's my cousin 
 Biddy's aunt's daughter's second cousin's son, and 
 you'll see iv he won't do somethin on you, you bad 
 man.' With that you see, Teady got frikened, and 
 then he grew vexed, and that I may never enther a 
 senthry box, but the villain murthered her on the 
 spot, and threw her into the lake.' 
 
 Here O'Flanagan started to his feet, with a deep, 
 hoarse smothering groan of agony, and exclaimed, 
 <0 God!' 
 
 The soldiers stood up alarmed, and inquired what 
 •was the matter ? 
 
 'Nothing, nothing,' said he, recovering his self 
 possession ; and he lay down quietly again, and 
 Moran resumed his tale. 
 
 ' Well, you see, afthcr the devil temptin Teady 
 that way, he got no rest or pace, for she used to oe 
 hauntm him day and night ; and one night as he 
 was goin in his cot to a little island across the lake, 
 who should he see comin sailin afthcr him like the 
 wind, but the poor unforthenate Aileen that he 
 murthered, an she all bloody. He shouted meelua 
 murdher — but the divil a use it was, for she jumpt 
 into the boat, and the minit she got in she caught 
 hould of him, and down sank the boat in the mid- 
 dle ov the wather, an he or it was never seen af- 
 thcr.' 
 
 Flanagan again leapt up all wild and terrified ; 
 his large fur cap hung behind at the back of his head, 
 the strap which fastened it under his chin had 
 slipped up to his forehead, his eyes and teeth were 
 set in terror, and his hair stood erect.' 
 
 • For God's sake,' he imploringly screamed, ' have 
 done — say no more. My God, my God,' apostro- 
 phising himself, 'what will become of me.' 
 
 The Serjeant, a keen old veteran, fixed his pene- 
 trating eye steadily on O'Flanagan, and observed 
 with astonishment the workings of his countenance. 
 O'Flanagan caught his eye on him, and quailed be- 
 neath its searching glance ; he appeared confused 
 for a moment, but mastering his emotions with a ' 
 strong effort, he continued : — | 
 
 'My God ! what a horrid dream I've had— I'm I 
 
 not right even yet ;' and he paused as if recollecting 
 his scattered thoughts. 
 
 ' No,' said the Serjeant, ' I dare say not, nor will 
 be for some time | a mind ill at ease gives frightful 
 dreams.' 
 
 ' What do you mean ?' said Flanagan, fiercely, 
 my mind is at ease ; yes,' ho added, lowering his 
 high tone, ' my mind is quite at ease.' 
 
 • AVhy,' said the Serjeant, ' I mean what I say, 
 just ; but few folks say what they mean as I do, 
 and I always suspect people to be either fools or 
 knaves who act dUferent from other men, without 
 having some good reason for what they do.' 
 
 ' I'sha-a !' said O'Flanagan, assuming a manner 
 half careless and half contemptuous, and again ex- 
 tended his length in silence and darkness on the 
 guard-bed. 
 
 Nods and winks were exchanged among the men, 
 and half whispered surmises went round, little to 
 the credit of O'Flanagan. 
 
 The conversation gradually flagged round the fire, 
 till at last it ceased entirely. The song of the sing- 
 er was done, and the story-teller was silent for the 
 night. The weary watchmen began to slumber 
 about the tire, now waxing faint and dim, and the 
 candles were fitfully flickering in their sockets, 
 throwing the shadows of the herculean group in gi- 
 gantic figure* on the opposite wall. Jem Flanagan 
 was sleeping alone, and entirely in the shade of the 
 cold guard-bed, but his slumbers were broken and 
 undisturbed ; he moaned painfully, and a slight 
 convulsive shivering ran through his frame ; his 
 breathing became thick, short, and heavy ; his 
 moaning gradually grew loud and long, till at last 
 extending into one wild, terrific, unnatural shriek, 
 O'Flanagan again stood erect panting and motion- 
 less ; the flickle light exhibited his features pallid 
 and distorted as he screamed in horror conveying 
 yells :— 
 
 ' Who said I killed TJlick Maguire ? — who called 
 me a murderer ? — eh ?' — and the last sound seemed 
 to expire hollowly and fearfully in the uttering. 
 
 ' Ha,' said the Serjeant, ' Is that the quarter the 
 land lies ; my fine fellow, I think I am right still.' 
 
 ' 'WTiat is that you say ":' asked O'Flanagan, fran- 
 tically ; ' was it you that said it ? was it you that 
 dared to call me a murderer? — there,' — and with 
 one desperate blow, he felled the veteran to the 
 earth. 
 
 He was soon overpowered, and made a prisoner. 
 The Serjeant next morning made a formal report of 
 the transactions of the night. The colonel inquired 
 the time O'Flanagan joined the regiment : — 
 
 ' Exactly the twenty- fifth of August last,' answer- 
 ed the clerk. 
 
 ' Let me have the Iluc-and-Cry of that week,' said 
 the colonel ; it was handed him, and he examined it 
 with attention. He then proceeded to the prisoner's 
 cell, aecompaned by the serjeant and one or two of 
 the ofiieers. 
 
 O'Flanagan stood before him without changing a 
 feature ; he was much altered in his appearance, by 
 even one night ; his face was pale, his lip was com- 
 pressed, and his look firm and determined, yet tem- 
 pered with something like calm resignation. 
 
 ' O'Flanagan,' said the colonel, you are from — ' 
 
 ' I am,' said O'Flanagan, coldly and collectedly. 
 
 'Listen, while I read,' said the colonel. 
 
 O'Flanagan inclined his head, and bent his eyes 
 on the ground. 
 
 ' On the night of the 12th of August, on his re- 
 turn from the fair of , a farmer named Ulick 
 
 Maguire, was barbarously and in'aumanly murdered, 
 and a man accused of the murder named James 
 O'Flanagan, otherwise Shemus dhu more O'Flana- 
 gan, has since absconded. The said O'Flanagan, 
 is about six feet three and a half inches in height, 
 black hair, dark complexion, and .' 
 
 ' You need read no more, colonel,' interrupted 
 the prisoner, ' I am the man.' { 
 
 ' You are an unfortunate man, then,' said the 
 colonel, ' and I am sorry I can't do any thing for 
 you." 
 
 ' I thank you, sir, but I don't want you to do any 
 thing for me,' said O'Flanagan firmly. ' I couldn't 
 live with the load of such -a crime bending me 
 through life. I thought to live — I thought tirao 
 might relieve me of tlic burden ; but I daily grew 
 worse and worse. I don't wish to live; I couldn't 
 live now. Day and night he was before my eyes 
 mangled and bloody ; now my life will pay for his, 
 and I am satisfied to give it up ; but I wish to be 
 alone, as my bosom is relieved of its fearful secret." 
 
 The soldier who brought O'Flanagan his dinner, 
 found him calm and easy ; he merely requested a 
 drink of water. Next morning the constables came 
 to receive him from the military ; they opened the 
 cell, but Shemus dhu more O'Flanagan was a life- 
 less corpse ; they found him hanging by his braces 
 out of a clothes rack, and the chair on which he was 
 mounted was lying broken against the wall, on the 
 opposite side of his cell, with, such violence and de- 
 termination did he kick it from under him. 
 
 He was buried that evening in the dark, and with- 
 out the honors of a soldier. 
 
 Tri.vl of Courage. — Early in the last century 
 apnrtyof jovial and rather youthful companions 
 were assembled drinking at a tavern in London in 
 the neighborhood of a churchyard. One of the set 
 had annoyed the others by boasting of his courage 
 in various nocturnal adventures that he related. At 
 length, another of the party said that, 
 
 'Brave as he was, he would not venture at that 
 hour to visit the churchyard, and bring thence a 
 skull.' 
 
 'Done,' said the boaster; and off he went. 
 
 He soon reached the place and found a skull; 
 twelve o'clock — 'the witching hour' — struck as he 
 seized it, and a hollow voice from the adjoining 
 tomb said: — 
 
 'That's my father's skull.' 
 
 'Let him have it then,' returned the better, as he 
 threw it from him a little alarmed and took up an- 
 other. 
 
 A voice still more hollow uttered — 
 
 'That is my mother's skull.' 
 
 'I'll leave it for her then,' replied the person trem- 
 ulously, as he dropped it and searched for an- 
 other. 
 
 -\s he grasped the third, the voice uttered in a 
 stronger and more sepulchral tone — 
 
 'That is my own 'skull!' 
 
 The person held it firmly, saying — 
 
 •Then you must have a race for it,' and set off 
 more alarmed, w hieh alarm increased as he heard J 
 footsteps in rapid pursuit. • 
 
 Exhausted and terrified he rushed into the room 
 at the tavern, where the party was seated, and 
 flinging the skull on the table, exclaimed — 
 
 'There's the skull for you, but the owner's at the 
 door!" 
 
 One of those who had heard the bet laid, had 
 slipped out before the boaster, and posted himself 
 behind the tomb, having reached the churchyard 
 before the other arrived there. However, when his 
 companion set off with the third skull, he became 
 frightened, and followed him as closely as he could 
 fearing some spirit might seize himself. 
 
 Sir Walter Raleigh, when on a visit at the coun- 
 try house of a nobleman, overheard early in the 
 morning, the lady of the house enquiring whether 
 the i^gs had had their breakfast. AVhen she came 
 down stairs, Sir Walter, after the first compliments 
 jocosely asked her, whether the pigs had breakfast- 
 ed. 
 
 'No,' replied the lady; 'not all of then, for you 
 have hot had yours yet." 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 357 
 
 THE VILLAGE OF FINCLAS. 
 
 About three miles from town, on the Ashbourne 
 road is the far famed village of FInglas. There are 
 few who have not heard of it, being equally celebrated 
 for its 'May sporis' — its ass races, its pigs, with their 
 tails shaved, and a host of other amusements — as for 
 having been, from time to time, the theatre of some 
 important scenes in Irish history. Indeed, there are 
 few villages in Ireland can lay claim to much greater 
 antiquity than the village of Finglas. It is supposed 
 by many to have been a place of some notoriety even 
 before Christianily was introduced into this country, 
 from the May sports to which I have alluded, as these 
 are known to be the remains of feasts instituted to cel- 
 ebrate the spring, or perhaps in honor of Ceres, the 
 goddess of grain and husbandry. One thing is certain, 
 that those feasts are evidently o'' Pagan origin. The 
 Romans and many other nations had games and feasts 
 in honor of spring. In England they were very com- 
 mon till the time of Henry the Eiglith, when some 
 commotion arising at one of tliem, of which he was a 
 spectator, he expressed his personal dislike to then^ 
 and also reprimanded the mayor of the town secretly. 
 After this they gradually disappeared in England; but 
 May day is still a kind of holiday in most villages 
 throughout England and Ireland. 
 
 I think I am not in error by asserting that Finglas 
 existed long before Christianity in this country, for in 
 the first years of the Christian era, we find the author 
 of it (St. Patrick,) residing in this town. He also 
 founded an abbey here; and it should be a place of 
 some note, and consequently of some age, to induce 
 him to go to so mich expense at that early period. 
 
 In the year 1014, Brian Boihoime marched by Fin- 
 glas, going to the memorable battle of Clontarf, where 
 he lost his life. 
 
 During the time the Danes were masters of Dublin 
 both before and after the battle of Clontarf, they fre 
 quently plundered Fingall, and it is reasonable to sup 
 pose that Finglas had its share from them. 
 
 In 1171, Dublin, being in the possession of Strong- 
 bow and the English adventurers, was closely besieged 
 by the monarch Roderick O'Connor, and reduced to 
 great straits. Strongbow was about to surrender, but 
 the Irish insisted on such extravagant' terms as broke 
 off the treaty. It was then advised to make a sudden 
 and desperate sally on the besiegers; and, accordingly. 
 Miles de Cogan and five hundred chosen men broke in 
 oa the Irish lines at Finglas, and entirely routed them. 
 
 THE VILLAGE OF FINGLAS 
 
 1 rather think this battle was fought about half a mile 
 one side of the town, at a place called Finglas Wood, 
 on the banks of the Tolka river. There is an old 
 quarry there, which is almost filled up with clay, &c., 
 and some time ago, the soft part of it was broken with 
 a plough, when a great number of human bones were 
 found, though greatly decayed, and several pieces of 
 rusty armor, so eaten away that it could not be said to 
 what part of the body they belonged, also broken 
 swords, &c. Tradition says there was a great battle 
 fought there, but ascribes it to the Danes and natives. 
 Another circumstance that makes me think this is the 
 %pot is, there is a very steep hill rising over the quarry 
 and along the river on that side, which would be ex- 
 tremely favorable to such an encounter as the above 
 must have been. It is probable that it was down this 
 hill thiit Miles de Cogan rushed with such irresistible 
 force, on the Irish host, and nearly took King Roder- 
 ick prisoner, who was at that time enjoying the then 
 luxury of a bath. 
 
 In 1271, Fulke de Saunfort, Archbishop of Dublin, 
 dying in his manor ot Finglas, his body was conveyed 
 to the Chapel of the Virgin, in St. Patrick's Cathedral, 
 and there deposited. 
 
 In 1532, we find this town giving the title of baron 
 to some family; for in the rebellion of Silken Thomas, 
 'ihe Archbishop (Allen) and Baron Finglas were 
 obliged to shut themselves up in the castle, and stand 
 to their defence.' I cannot say to what family the tiile 
 belonged. 
 
 In 1649, Cromwell's army marched through Finglas 
 going to the siege of Drogheda, and threw down the 
 ancient cross. 
 
 The enclosed is a sketch of Finglas, taken from a 
 field opposite to Dr. Duncan's Lunatic Asylum, which 
 is the house seen to the left of the drawing. 
 
 The air of Finglas was formerly accounted the best 
 about Dublin, and hither all the victims of disease 
 were ordered, before the mountain air of Dundrum 
 was brought into notice. However, it is still consid- 
 ered salubrious, as there are no less than three lunatic 
 asylums within a quarter of a mile of each other. To 
 one of them we have already alluded, the other two be- 
 long to Doctors Ilarly and Gregory. They are all 
 tasty buildings — particularly St. Helena, the seat of 
 Dr. Harty. 
 
 Tradition says that King James slept a night, dur- 
 ing hia retreat, or rather flight, from the Boyne, in the 
 
 house now occupied by Mr. Savage, Finglas Wood— ' 
 it is just beside the quarry before mentioned. 
 
 In 1690, King William III. had his army encamped 
 at Finglas after the battle of the Boyne; and from Fin- 
 glas he went to the Church of St. Patrick, to return 
 thanks to the Almighty for his victory over the unfor- 
 tunate James. 
 
 iNSTRtJCTivE Axioms. — The following axioms 
 will be found beneficial to both sexes: — 
 
 1. "Whatever your profession is, endeavor to ac- 
 quire merit in it; for merit is esteemed by every 
 body, and is so precious a thing that no person can 
 purchase it. 
 
 2. ©f this be certain, that no trade can be so bad 
 as noneat.all, nor any life so tiresome as that which 
 is spent in continual visiting and dissipation. To 
 give all one's time to other people, and never re- 
 serve any for one's self, is to be free in appearance 
 only and a slave in effect. 
 
 3. Though your profession should not lead you 
 to study, love and respect people of letters; and if 
 you are not learned yourself, esteem those who are 
 so. 
 
 4. Be easy of address and courteous in conversa- 
 tion, and then everybody will think it a pleasure to 
 have any dealing with you. 
 
 5. Have the same regard for all the world, that 
 you would wish them to have for you. 
 
 6. By honesty and integrity you will gain credit 
 everywhere, and your word will be thought more 
 valuable in any business you may be concerned in, 
 than all the lawyers' bonds in the world. 
 
 7. You will find no greater enemy than your- 
 self, more especially Lf you suffer your passions to 
 govern you. 
 
 8. Receive your relations and friends with a 
 smiling and engaging air; if you do otherwise, you 
 lose the pleasure of seeing them. 
 
 9. A necessitous man who gives costly dinners, 
 pays large sums to be laughed at. 
 
 10. There arc some men whose enemies are to be 
 pitied much, and their friends more. 
 
 11. Men will wrangle for religion; write for it; 
 fight for it; die for it; do anything but live for it. 
 
 12. Bigotry murders religion, to frighten fools 
 with her ghost. 
 
358 
 
 IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 POPULAR LEGENDS OF THE SOUTH. 
 
 No III. 
 
 The Mill wife. 
 
 Now cnil yonr eyes RroiinU wlille 1 <U»«oIve 
 The mi^iitniKl tiliiiH tlmt iiiortiil cyett iiivnivo; 
 I'ur^e IVom yum- night the dro.4K uiitl iiittkeyou see, 
 The Bhnpe of each iiveugiug Deity. 
 
 Uryileu'8 Virgil. 
 
 'Tvfas on a bright Snnday morninp, in the liitter 
 dny9 of June, that the congngiition hegnn to thicken 
 fast, in the neighhorhooil of Ivi-knne Clmpcl, tlic white- 
 washed Willis of the 8acre<l eilifioe waxeil brigliter in 
 the rays of the fumincr sun, over the right hank of the 
 Ariglin, whose waters incnnilering along their green 
 and beautiful banks, appeared in the reflection of the 
 sun, like islets of light, glciiniing amid an emerald .sea, 
 till, sweeping round the oak crowned elitf of Daniel 
 the Outlaw, they receded from the .sight. The sonilire 
 hue of the surrounding mountains, was relieved by 
 groups of the peasantry, directing their steps across 
 thcYiurple heather, from every direction towards the 
 chapel, the lively appearance of the females adding 
 greatly to the beauty of the scene. 
 
 Among a group thai ba^ked in the long grass of ihe 
 chapel yard, wailing the arrival of the llev. Father 
 M'Naughtin, was placed Tim Murphy. Tim was an 
 old man of infinite humor, and keen remark, the oracle 
 of the hamlet where he resided, and his memory the 
 store-house of legendary lore; his grey locksjmng neg- 
 ligently over his decent frieze coat; the head of his 
 clegh-alpeen was neatly set with bright brass nails, 
 while the red worsted garters surmounting the blue 
 woollen stockings just below the knee of the old fash- 
 ioned breeches, spoke one determined to maintain the 
 fashion of the olden days, in contempt of modern in- 
 novations. 
 
 'In trath, Nell, you were the decent girl when you 
 and I danced a moneen together at Cullin, forty thrte 
 years ago, come next Latceien's day; many an old 
 body an a young one too, wished us married, and said 
 we were the smartest couple on the green, though now 
 wc re old and stiff, glory be to God.' 
 
 This apostrophe was directed by Tim to an old 
 woman with n black patch over her right eye, who just 
 bad entered the chapel gate, and was directing her tot- 
 tering steps beyond the circles that surrouniled Tim 
 Murphy. She had been, time out of mind, the mid- 
 wife of the neighboring districts, and though she never 
 studied any of those volumes that treat of the obstetric 
 art, Nell gave universal satisfaction in the way of her 
 profession. 
 
 'I wonder,' said an arch wag, with a laugliter-loving 
 eye, 'I wonder, Tim, as Nell and you were such a 
 pretty pair of dancers, an well acquainted, av coorse, 
 that vou took no notion to get the blind side of her.' 
 
 •Arrah, Andy, avic,' answered Tim, 'it does not be- 
 come the like of you to crack jukes at elderly people — 
 your days are not over yet, ma bochal, and your own 
 father, — God rest his soul in glory — if he lived could 
 Bay that he saw Nell Conner with two bright blue eyes, 
 till one of the good people, at the fair of Millstreet 
 struck out her right eye with the point of his switch — 
 God between the hearers and hann!' 
 
 'Never mind the Dhaltecn,' said a voice in the 
 group, 'give him up to the clargy; we long to hear 
 how Nell Connor, poor, dear woman, lost her eye.' 
 
 'Why, then, in less than no time,' said Tim, direct 
 ing his eyes round the circle of anxious auditors, 'you 
 shall hear it word for word, as it left Nell's mouth, at 
 cold Andrew Hicky's wake, when that young joker 
 there, young Andy, with his gography and wild book 
 keeping, was but a broth of a gomulach, not cute 
 enough to roast a brohoguc.' 
 
 After a hem or two, Tim commenced his narration, 
 the substance of which is as f.)llows: — 
 
 The family of Nell Connor hud all retired to bed,' on 
 a wet stormy, December night, when a loud knocking 
 at the door, and a strange, shrill voice demanding the 
 midwife's attendance on a sick woman, aroused the in- 
 mates from their slumber, the rain paitend against 
 the single pane that formed the only window of the 
 apartment, and the wind whistled mournfully through 
 the chinks of its mud wall. Nell, ever faithl'ul to the 
 
 duties of her profession, rose unreluctaiitly, flung her 
 mantle of frieze upon her shoulders, and opened the 
 door. 
 
 'Tis a fearful wild night to venture abroad in,' said 
 she, accosting a tall, dark-looking man, mounted on a 
 fine grey horse, 'hut it is strange acushia, I don't kuow 
 ye — have we (^T to goV 
 
 'Not far," said the dark man, in a superhuman tone, 
 that thrilled to the midwife's soul. 
 
 He caught her hand, and Nell felt herself raised as 
 light as a feulber, into the pillion behind him. They 
 shot 'ilong wiih the lighining's rapidity, and though a 
 pitchy darkness enveloped earth and heaven, the grey 
 horse movid with s-uro and steady speed. After pass- 
 ing many a hollow clell and rising moorland, during 
 which no sound betrayed the tramp of the horse's 
 hoofs, thev came to ihe banks of the swollen and r.ijiid 
 Ariglin; the roaring rush of the muddy river, the blue 
 gham of the lightning flashing over its troubled wave, 
 and the fiiful moaning of the savage blast struck terror 
 to ihe midwife's heart. 
 
 'God and the blessed Virgin preserve us,' she ex- 
 claimed, in a paroxysm of despair, and the hollow 
 cliffs that part the dashing waters reverberated ihe 
 sounds. 
 
 'Utier these names again, and abide the eonse- 
 (lucnce,' said the mysterious horseman, angrily, then 
 plunging into the wild stream, 'be silent,' he contin- 
 ued, and fear nothing, though you were sailing in a 
 turf kish on the broad sea.' 
 
 Gaining the opposite bank, they drove at tlje same 
 rapid Tate with which they at first set forward, till they 
 reached the fort of Doon, which Nell well recognized, 
 as the rising moon flung her pale melancholy light 
 athwart the horizon. Alighting from his horse, the 
 tall dark man struck the ground wilh his foot, which 
 opening, discovered a long flight of steps that ltd into 
 the bosom of the earth; he instantly descended, and 
 called upon his terrified companion to follow him. 
 
 They entered a winding passage that led into a lofty 
 hall, illuminated with burning tapers. The tables 
 groaned beneath the splendid feast; the unearthly thril- 
 ling of the melting harp stole softly on the car, while 
 a circle of lovely ladies and polished gentltemen flew 
 through the mazes of the dance, to the stirring sound 
 of the 'brisk awakening viol,' these were the promi-^ 
 nent sights that caught Nell's attention, as her conduc- 
 tor led her hastily through the hall, to an inner cham- 
 ber, where lay a female, whom she was called on to 
 assist in travail. Afier Nell had announced the birth 
 of a fine boy, the tall dark man, who still remained in 
 the room, gave her a vessel, containing a greenish 
 ointment, with which he ordered her to anoint the new- 
 born babe from head to foot, but he cautioned her to 
 suffer none of it to touch any part of her except the 
 hand that performed the operation. 
 
 When this unction was concluded, and the child 
 dressed and laid in a superb cradle, Nell Connor, feel- 
 ing a certain twitching sensation in her right eye, in- 
 stinctively clapped her hand to that organ, when she 
 perceived the objects in the chamber suddenly undergo 
 a strange metamorphosis, and assume an undefinable 
 two-fold appearance, in which the true and unreal were 
 blended together in an indescribable way. She righily 
 consideied that this arose from the viriue of the oint- 
 ment, which gave her right eye the facility of seeing 
 the things of this sirange souterrain in their proper 
 shape; upon closing her left eye all this delusion van- 
 ished. The beautilul 'lady in the straw,' appeared a 
 withered hag; ihe lovely boy a shapeless, cross-grainjd 
 squaller, and the all mysterious horseman was sudden- 
 ly changed into a little red-haired chap, of three feet 
 high, wearing a conical red cap — his deformed, skinny 
 mouth, extended from ear to car. and his restless, 
 piercing eyes seemed to search the midwife's soul, 
 whenever she met their malignant regard. 
 
 'Nell Connor,' said the little red-haired man, 'I feel 
 obliged by your civility, and here is a trifle for your 
 trouble.' 
 
 So saying, be put into her hand what seemed to her 
 left eye to be two bright pieces of gold; but which the 
 right one detected as two ivy leaves, clipped round all 
 
 the edges. In pn.ssing ont, the hall and its guests wcr 
 sadly altered — the polished genllemcn and lovely ladies 
 were short, red-capped fellows and deformed beldames. 
 Instead of delicious music, mere vilainous discordant 
 sounds; and the bright tapers were twinkling rush- 
 lights; upon emerging into mounlight, the 'gallant 
 grey that travelled so fleetly to Doon, proved nothing 
 more than the beam of an old plough, which had lain 
 since the preceding sjiriiig across the stone gap at tho 
 corner of Nell's cabin; quaking with terror, she mount- 
 ed behind her conductor. The beam performed its 
 part to admiration, outstript tho passing wind — re- 
 crossed tho roar ng Ariglin' and, after some hard can- 
 tering over mush and nmorland, set Nell Connor 
 down, pretty much to her satisfaction, at her own door, 
 as the March cock upon the roost within proclaimed 
 the decline of the the tardy night. 
 
 Mill-street fair happened'on the next day, and Nell 
 Connor having business there, was surprised on enter- 
 ing the town, to see her little red-haired acquaintance 
 busily employed in selecting and carrying off the 
 choicest cows, and substituting in their stead, clods or 
 slones, or other inanimate things, which in the strict 
 resemblance they were made to bear to the animals 
 thus abstracted, deceived every mortal eye but Nell's; 
 she attentively watelied his progress during the busy 
 afternoon; at length she entered a crowded tent, where 
 sat a fine looking country girl and her sweetheart, rc- 
 fieshing themselves with a cake and a glass of punch; 
 the busy purloincr of the cows approached the maiden 
 and thrusting a thranccn up her nostril, caused her to 
 sneeze three successive times, he 'grinned horrible a 
 ghastly smile,' at the first and second sneeze, but at the 
 third, when Nell Connor exclaimed, 'Christ and the 
 Blessed Virgin between you and the evil one, ma col- 
 leen bawn,' the disappointed fairy gnashed his teeth in 
 anger; his malignant eyes beamed with fury, and dart- 
 ing, like the lightning's flash, through the guests of the 
 crowded tent, to the spot where Nell Connor stood, 
 and striking out her right eye wilh the point of his 
 switch, immediately disappeared. 
 
 Al the conclusion of this singular legend, the influx 
 of the crowd to the chapel gate announced the priest's 
 arrival; the reclining groups were soon in moiion, and 
 Tim's auditors rehiciantiv retired to hear mass. 
 
 FEMALE VIRTUE. 
 
 The following interesting example of female virtue 
 is taken from the eniertaining letters of Samuel Der 
 rick. Dublin, 17G6 He writes to the i5ari of Cork.- 
 
 My Lord, — In a large room, with white walls, badly 
 liglited, and not encumbered wi h ornament, here is an 
 assembly once a fortnight, at which you will find some 
 very handsome females, dressed in the pink of the 
 mode, I was particularly charmed with the appearance 
 of one, whose name I conceal, on account of the short 
 story I am about to rel ite. Let it suHiee, my lord, 
 that 1 assure you everybody who knows her allows lur 
 to be well made; her limbs in the most delicate pro- 
 portion; her air graceful; her countmaiice modest, ele 
 ftant, and striking; her conversation easy and sensible; 
 her manner polished and engaging. 
 
 This amiable girl, who is of good family, and has a 
 moderate fortune, was courted by a young fellow of 
 the name of Sullivan, whom she looked upan as her 
 inferior, and gave him therefore very littli; eiicourage- 
 nient; but his visits being cuuiitcnanccd by her moth- 
 er, she received him with her natural cheerfulness and 
 good humor. At length, urged by the violence of pas- 
 sion, and weaiied out with tedious expceia ion, he 
 broke into her mother's house at the dead of night, and 
 taking her forcibly out of bed, carried her off, placing 
 lur before him, almost naked, upon a horse, in spite of 
 her tears, outcries and resistance. The place he had 
 prepared for her reception was an old unfrequented 
 castle, about twcn'y miles from Co.k, in a desolate, 
 uninhabited part of the county of Limerick, and here, 
 with the assistance of some savage vassals, he satiated 
 all the rage of his brutal nppeiite. The place of his 
 retreat being found out, the castle was invested by the 
 sheriff of the county, assisted by a party of the army. 
 SuUivan was actually fool-hardy enough to attempt to 
 
 J 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 359 
 
 defend it, and several sliots were exclinnged, witliout 
 any pei^on being hurt. Tho place being at length 
 taken by assault, bo endeavored to make his escape 
 througli a back door, but was pursued and taken. 
 The unhappy ladj was found in a neighboring fiekl, 
 concealed in a kind of arlior, wliich had been built for 
 the same purpose, slic was covered witli leaves, had 
 scarcely any clothing, and was half dead, with fear, 
 cold, fatigue and ill usage. She had been conducted 
 hither on tlio first approach of Lord L'islo, (who was 
 then high sherifl',) and forbidden to move, on pain of 
 death. 
 
 Sullivan was lodged in Cork goal, and an indict- 
 ment being found against him, ho was tried, convicted, 
 and sentenced to be hanged — a punishment which he 
 afterwards sulfered, but which was greatly inadequate 
 to the flagrancy of his crime. Lord L'isle attended 
 the execution in p; rson, at the head of a re^'iment of 
 horse, to prevent a rescue, which was threatened. 
 
 During ihe course of the trial. Lord Chief Justice 
 Caulfield, with infinite benevolence and a warm repri- 
 mand, over-ruled one of the prisoner's council, who 
 endeavored to throw this amiable woman in confusion, 
 by a question both impertinent and indecent. 
 
 'Ask your own heart, (says this good "old man) if 
 any one who had the feelings of honor, or the least 
 touch of compassion, could ever think of putting such 
 innocence and so much beauty to the blush ' 
 
 Before sentence was pronounced on the prisoner, he 
 begged leave to ask the young lady one question, 
 which was this — 
 
 'Madam, matters have been carried on against me 
 with a very high hand; they are now come to an ex- 
 tremity, which it is in your power to palliate; if you 
 will marry me, the court may perhajis consider the 
 case in another light, and save my life.' 
 
 'Sir,' answered this injured woman, with a spirit of 
 resolution void of rancor, and free from bitterness, 'if 
 I loved you to distraction, I would not stir a step to 
 save your life; the punishment you are about to suffer 
 will never restore my blasted honor, but it may stand 
 as an example for protecting innocence from villainy.' 
 Every considerate person must, I think, applaud her 
 resolution, and agree with me in this sentiment, that 
 her image should be erected in the temple of virtne, 
 as the guardian of the privileges of her sex, and the 
 scourge of savage and illiberal passions. — I am, my 
 lord, &c., &c.' 
 
 CHARLES II. AND HIS IRISH ADHERENTS. 
 
 Derrick, in his entertaining letters, from which the 
 story above is taken, and which are written in a grace- 
 ful style, says, 'The conduct of Charles IL on his res- 
 toration, is notorious; he confirmed the grants made 
 to Oliver's soldiers, while his most loyal subjects were 
 betrayed and abandoned to misery. Among these un- 
 happy sufferers, no man's case was more deplorable 
 than that of Lord Viscount Fermoy, the head of the 
 Roches, a numerous and loyal clan in the county of 
 Cork. This nobleman, refusing to compound with 
 the usurper, abandoned a very fine estate, and in 16.')2, 
 went abroad, and entered into the Spanish service. 
 When Charles was at Brussels, Fermoy, being c colo- 
 nel of a regimens, assigned to the king almost all his 
 pay, reserving a mere trifle for the maiutainance of 
 himself and his family. This generosity having ruined 
 him, he was obliged to sell his regiment to pay his 
 debts; and after the restoration, coming to London 
 with a wife and six children, the king, though pressed 
 by the Duke of Ormond and Lord Clanricardc, far 
 from restoring him to his honors and estate, refused to 
 hear of him, and had it not been for the benevolence of 
 these two illustrious noblemen, this unhappy lord and 
 his family must have been starved.' 
 
 'How melancholy an object,' Derrick adds, 'a peer 
 so ancient as to have been summoned to parliament em 
 a baron even in the commencement of the fourteenth 
 century being the reign of Edward the Second, almost 
 dying for want, under the eye of a king to whom he 
 had given bread!' 
 
 This is but one instance in a thousand of the ingrat- 
 itude of that most heartless and profligate member of 
 
 a race almost wholly worthless. After his restoration, 
 liis court was for a considerable time beset with the 
 unfortunate Irish gentlemen, who were beggared by 
 their adherence to his cause, in the vain hope of ob- 
 taining some portion of their property, or some com- 
 pensation for their losses, by an ajjpcal to his honor 
 and justice; and their descendants, even to this day, 
 traditionally preserve, and relate with graphic spirit, 
 many circumstances of the interview of their ances- 
 tors with tho royal buffoon, which have not hitherio 
 appeared in print. For a while these applicants were 
 received without reluctance, for it afiorded him an op- 
 portunity of amusing himself and his courtiers by act- 
 ing the hypocrite with an indecent levity, and a per- 
 fection for which he had every requisite. To the seve- 
 ral bodies of Irishmen, who usually went up to levco 
 in groups, he had the same sorrowful countenance, and 
 the same soothing and commiserating speech, begin- 
 ning, 'My poor people, how my heart bleeds for you,' 
 &c., but the daily repetition of the farce became irk- 
 some and annoying. His hypocrisy was seen through, 
 and the Irishmen, who found that they had nothing to 
 hope from his honor or generosity, were accustomed 
 to give vent to their feelings, with the bold spirit char- 
 acteristic of their country. Such was the indignant 
 reply of one of those unfortunate gentlemen, we be- 
 lieve a Colonel Costelloe, to the king's usual address; 
 'Please your majesty, I ask no compensation for my 
 services and losses in your majesty's cause; I see that 
 to your friends, and to my countrymen in particular, 
 you give nothing, and that it is your enemies alone 
 who receive favor and reward. For ten years service, 
 for many wounds, and for the total loss of my estates, 
 I ask nothing; but in the ardor of my yonth, and in 
 the belief that I was asserting the sacred cause of lib- 
 erty, I fought for one year in tho service of the usurper 
 — give me back such portion of my estates, as that 
 year's service entitles me to.' 
 
 Such uncourtly visitors could hardly fail of becom- 
 ing unacceptable to the royal presence, and in fact, at 
 length their appearance used to inspire him with such 
 vexation and Horror that he resorted to every practica- 
 ble art to avoid encountering them. Having heard of 
 a fresh arrival of petitioners from Ireland, he one day 
 asked one of his merry courtiers — the Lord Falkland, 
 to whom he bore a strong resemblance, to personate 
 him at the meeting, and rid him of their importunities. 
 Falkland consented, on condition that his majesty 
 should be present. The Irishmen were introduced, 
 and Falkland, imitating to the life his usual look and 
 speech, beginning, 'My poor people,' made it a difK- 
 cult matter for the surrounding courtiers, and even for 
 his majesty himself, to refrain from loud laughter. 
 But the humor was irresisible, when, in conclusion, he 
 directed their attention to the monarch himself, and 
 added, in the following words, 'There's my poor friend 
 Falkland; look at his care-worn countenance; he has 
 been a constant follower of my fortunes — has lost 
 everything in my service — and has had my royal word 
 repeatedly given, that he should be restored to his 
 property — and yet — there he is, poor Falkland still!' 
 
 CURIOUS ADVERTISEMENTS 
 
 IN 1750. 
 
 The progressive increase of the prices of many of the 
 luxuries of life, in Ireland, from the year 1750, up to 
 this period, must afford a very interesting subject of 
 contemplation; but to the lovers of good wine, the fol- 
 lowing advertisement from a Dublin newspaper of the 
 above year, must prove how very reasonably our pre- 
 decessors might enjoy their national propensity, which, 
 we are thankful to say, even were the prices ax low as 
 formerly. In fact, both claret and whiskey were too 
 cheap — and, we are satisfied, were the greatest means 
 of retarding the advancement of civihzation and of 
 morals. 
 
 Christopher Qliin. 
 
 At the sign of the Brazen Head, in Bridge street, 
 being determined to continue the Wine trade, as usual, 
 has fitted out said house with neat accommodations, 
 and commodious cellars for said business, and being 
 
 /ately arrived from Bourdeaux, has imported a paroe 
 of choice Clarets of different growths, the vintage of 
 1747 and 1748, which he sells by wholesale and retail, 
 
 at tho following reasonable rates, viz.: Neat Claret 
 
 of the 1st growth of Obrcjono, at £18 per hogshead, 
 [£1G 123. .•Jd.] and 18s. per dozen. Neat Margoux 
 and Medoc Claret, at lOs. per dozen. Graves Claret, 
 at 14s. per dozen. Neat Red and White Port, at I2s. 
 per dozen. Mountain, Sherry and Lisbon, at 143. per 
 dozen. Neat Pruniac Whitcwine, at I3s. per dozen. 
 Plain Whitcwine and St. Martin's Renish, at 128. per 
 dozen. Genuine old Canary, at 20s. per dozen; with 
 Kood encouragement to those who buy the hogshead. 
 [The above all in Irish currency ] 
 1750. 
 This is to give notice to the Public, that the Battle 
 which was to be fought in Dublin, at the Back-sword, 
 between Mr. James Dalzel of England, and Mr. Ed- 
 ward Sill of Ireland, is at the request of several noble- 
 men and gentlemen, to be decided at the Cockpit at 
 Kilcullen Bridge, the day that Black and all Black 
 runs at the Curragh, for 50 guineas and the whole 
 house, and whoever gives Ihe most bleeding wounds 
 in nine bouts, shall, hy approbation, have all the 
 money. Tho doors to be opened at 9 o'CIock in the 
 forenoon, and fight between 11 and 12. Front seats, 
 5s. 5d. 
 
 .Spa, Tralee:— 1750. 
 Tralee. — Whereas it is expected by the Corporation 
 and inhabitants of Tralee, tliat many gentlemen and 
 others, intending to drink the Spa Waters contiguous 
 thereto, will frequently resort to said to^vn for the ac- 
 commodation of diet and lodgings; and in order that 
 such persons may be fully satisfied that no exorbitant 
 or unreasonable charges shall be made on account 
 thereof; we the undernamed inhabitants of said town, 
 do hereby agree to, and promise to abide by the fol- 
 lowing regulations: that is to say, the best lodgings in 
 said town, that is, one room furnished with bedding, 
 and other conveniences, and also fire and candle-light, 
 at half-a-guinea a week; and so in proportion down- 
 wards, as to all other lodgings, and all other articles, 
 as the chief Magistrate for the time being of said Cor- 
 poration shall adjudge and appoint. And as to diet— . 
 for dinner and supper, 8s. British, a week; for dinner 
 only, 6s. British, a week. — N. B Assizes times are ex- 
 cepted. 
 
 John M'Donough, Dennis Leavy, 
 
 John Fitzmaurice, John Haly, 
 
 G. Connell, Daniel Tuomy. 
 
 Assize of Bread. 
 By order of the Lord Mayor: — June 29, 1750. 
 Penny Loaf (Wheaten) lloz 6dr. 
 Fourpenny, do. do. 21b. 14oz. 7dr. 
 Sixpenny, do. do. 4lb. 6oz. 3dr. 
 Twelvopenny, do. do. 81b. 12oz. 6dr. 
 Penny Loaf, (Household) 15oz. 2dr. 
 Fourpenny, do. do. 31b. 13oz. Odr. 
 Sixpenny, do. do. 5lb. lloz. 6dr. 
 Twelvepenny, do. do. 1 1 lb. 4oz. 7dr. 
 Middle price of Wheat per quarter, £1 19s. 6d. 
 
 Alliteration. — A Latin poem was published at 
 Niverstadt, in 1669, consisting of three bundled and 
 two hexameter lines, comprising one thousand five 
 hundred words, which, with the title page, author's 
 name, &c , began every one with the letter P. It is 
 called, 'Pugna porcorum per Pctrum Porcinutn, Para- 
 clesis pro potatore.' It takes for its motto — 'Pcrlege 
 porcorum pulchcrrima proclia, Potor, Potondo poteris 
 placidam proffere poesin.' It ccmmcnced with the 
 line — 'Plaudite porcelli, porcorum pigra propago.' 
 The whole is correct Lai in, the verso perfect in its 
 quantities, and the fable conducted on tho best rules of 
 Aristotle. It is, perhaps, the greatest literary curios- 
 jty in existence. 
 
 I am transported to sec you, as the thief said to tho 
 kangaroo. 
 
360 
 
 IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 RUINS 
 
 These ruins, as shown in the above engraving, de- 
 rive as much interest from their association with 
 the names of Boyle and Spencer's 'Shepherd of the 
 Ocean,' ihe gallant, the accomplished, but unfortunate 
 Raleigh, as from any arcliitectural beauties which they 
 now present, or probably ever possessed. The College 
 of Youghal was founded in 1464, by Thomas, Earl of 
 Desmond. This foundation was alterwards confirmed 
 by his son James, in 1472, and subsequently by his 
 brother Maurice in 1496. The church is of prior date, 
 but was rebuilt and beautified by the Earl of Desmond 
 soon after the erection of the college, and repaired, at 
 a later period, by the Earl of Cork. The community 
 of the college consisted at first of a warden, eight fel- 
 lows, and eight singing men, who had a common 
 table, together with other necessaries, and a yearly 
 stipend allowed to ihem — the whole donation being 
 originally worth £6iio per annum. It was endowed 
 with several parsonages and vicarages in different 
 pans of the county of Cork. The foundation charter 
 and the several appropriations were conlinncd, at va- 
 rious periods, by the Bishop.s of Cloyne, Pope Julius, 
 Pope Paul, and other pontiflTs. This church enjoyed 
 its revenues and privileges for some time after the 
 reformation; for, in the year 15S7, Dr. Witherhead 
 was collated to the wardenship by the then Bishop of 
 Cork and Cloyne. He was succeeded by Nath. Ba.x- 
 ter, who, finding his tenure precarious, and that this 
 was likely to share the fate of other monastic institu- 
 tions, privately authorized Godfrey Armitage, Edmund 
 Harris and William Parker, to dispose of the college 
 revenues, who accordincly demised them and the col- 
 lege house to Sir Thomas Norris, then Lord President 
 ofMunsier. Dr. Merciliih Hammer, the author ot the 
 Chronicle of Ireland, succeeded Baxter in the warden- 
 ship, and renewed the lease made by his predecessor, 
 by demising the college revenues, &c. to William 
 Jones, in trust for Sir Walter Raleigh, reserving, how- 
 
 FuUerton, having obtained a patent for concealed 
 church lands, laid claim to the property of this college. 
 His title, or pretended title, was also purchased by the 
 
 YOUGHAL. 
 
 illustration. The beautiful window in this ruin, though 
 'curtailed of its fair proportions,' the bottom having 
 been built up, is well deserving of admiration. It is 
 Earl of Cork, who contrived to obtain possession until divided into two distinct compartments, each of which 
 the year 16;54, when Sir AVilliam Reeves, the then at- j consists of tM'o slender muUions, surmounted by open 
 torney-general, exhibited charges against him with re- raoery and term naiivg in a trefoil ornament. These 
 spcct to the mode in which he obtained possession of com])artments or windows become one by the outside 
 the college; all these, together with other charges of line of their arches uniting in a common point over the 
 rapacity brought against hira by Strafford, the earl ' doulile massive muUion, which is thus made the centre; 
 says he satisfactorily answered. Be that as it may, he and this diamond-shaped space is occupied by a Cath- 
 was fined .£15,000 by the award of Strafford, who pre- '■ arine wheel. The transepts are now chiefly used as 
 vailed tipon him to refer the matter to his decision, j cemeteries. That to the south belongs to the Boy Ic 
 At this period, we have little evidence as to the mode ; family, being purchased for that purpose in 1606, from 
 in which the Earl of Cork obtained his princely estates I the Mayor and Corporation of Youghal, by the first 
 
 save his own and the equally suspicious testimony of 
 his avowed enemies. We certainly have many still 
 existing proofs of his zeal for the improvement of this 
 country, in the towns which he founded, and the pub- 
 lic works, such as bridges, schools, &c., which he 
 erected or endowed. We have, however, his own tes- 
 timony that his private interests were not neglected, as 
 we find him landing in Dublin in 1583, being then 
 
 Earl of Cork, in the deed of which he is bound not to 
 disturb the ancient burials in the place. It contains a 
 fine monument of tha' nobleman, and several others of 
 interest, for here repose the ashes of many of the 
 mighty earls of Desmond— the seneschals of Imokilly, 
 and other chiefs of the Fitzgeralds and other noble 
 families. 
 But the monuments, chancel, and all, save the nave. 
 
 possessed of £27 .Is. in money, and two tokens which , arc utterly neglected, and hastening fast to decay; and 
 bis mother had given him, viz., a diamond ring and a ' ibis eirumstancc is the more surprising when wc re- 
 bracelet of gold, worth about £10; a taffety doublet, fleet that it is in the estate of the Duke of Devonshire, 
 cut with and upon taffety; a pair of black breeches and in it stand the monuments of that family through 
 laced; a new Milan fustian suit laced and cnt upon which he derives his extensive Irish estates — estates 
 taffety; two cloaks, and competent linen and necessa- on which the disadvantages of the proprietor's ab- 
 ries, with his rapier and dagger.' And, in I64I, we sence are less felt, than, peihaps, on any other in Ire- 
 find his revenues amounting to £50 a day, exclusive land. 
 
 of demesnes, parks, royalties, &c. 
 
 The Collegiate Church of Youghal was in its origi 
 nal state, one of the finest specimens in Ireland of that 
 style of pointed architecture, now generally known as 
 'the decorated English st.tle,' and its east window was 
 considered to be the most beautiful of its kind in the 
 island. 'The original form of the building was that of 
 
 The decay of this church is singular, as the pride 
 of three noble houses, namely, Devonshire, Cork and 
 Shannon, may be supposed interested in its preserva- 
 tion. 
 
 According to tradition, Cobhett's 'accursed root,' 
 th'^ potato, was first planted there, in the roUegc gar- 
 den, by Sir Walter Raleigh. 
 
 True Friends. — As to true friends, choose them 
 with great care, and let their number be small. Have 
 
 s, and consisied of chancel, nave, and transicpts, 
 ever, the Parsonige of Carrigaline and the Rectory of, to which was joined, on the north s'de of the church, a 
 Mallow. About the year 1602, Sir George Carew i square belfry, about fifty feet high. The nave, which 
 took the college for the purpose of residing in it, and I was adorned with side aisles, formed by six pointed ; 
 
 obtained a grant of the college and revenues from | arches, is now used as a parish church. Its length ' no friend who does not fear God, who is not wholly 
 James the First. He afterwards sold his estate in it from cast Ui west, is forty-five yards, and its breadth governed by the truths of religion. To friends like 
 to Sir Richard Boyle, who purchased Jones' interest, , twenty-two. The chancel, which is twcnty-niue feet these, open your heart without reserve, and keep noth- 
 hen he purchased the Raleigh estate. Sir James i wide, is unroofed and in ruins, as represented in the j ing from them but the secrets of others. 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 36t 
 
 THE 
 IRISH MISCELLANY 
 
 l8 published weekly, fiiul devoted to the interests and vin- 
 dication of the Irish people throughout the world. 
 
 The Misttllany republishes each week one whole number 
 of the old • DonuN I'enmv Journal,' w ith original and 
 selected essays, reviews, poetry, &c., by Irishmen, of flrst- 
 rale ability. It also contains beautifnl Tiotorial Illustra- 
 tions of Irish scenery and other objects of interest, among 
 which may be enumerated engravings oi the ancient cas- 
 tles and round towers, the ruins of the old churches, the 
 plundered mouasteries, convents and abbeys of Ireland. 
 
 It will also contain correct Pictorial representations ot 
 works of art executed by Irishmen of the present day, as 
 well as in former times, iu this country and throughout 
 Europe. 
 
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 WALSU & CO. rUOI'RIETORS, 
 
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 Six lines or less constitute half a square. 
 
 Larger advertisements charged in proportion. 
 
 Business Notices, solid .... 10 cents per line. 
 
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 BUSINESS CARDS OT six lines ok less. 
 
 For On Month, . . . .151.50 | Six Months, . . . SB.OO 
 
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 •,*A11 advertisements payable in advance. 
 
 CUE AGENTS. 
 John J. Dyer, & Co., 35 School St., Boston. 
 
 A. Williams & Co., 100 Washington St., " 
 
 Fedheren & Co., 9 & 13 Court St., " 
 
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 William Keating, 176 Harrison Avenue, " 
 
 Daniel J. Geary, Salem, Mass. 
 
 James O'Connell, North Bridgewater, Mass. 
 
 Edwd. J. Kelleher, Bangor, Me. 
 
 Dexter & Brother, U & 16 Ann St., New York. 
 
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 Hawks & Bro., Cleaveland, 
 O. S- Wallcut, Columbus, 
 E. Louis Andrews, Chicago, 
 J. A. Roys, 
 
 Thomas Duggan, St. Louie, 
 Auglim & Co , London, 
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 The jWsMtfany may also be had retail, of newspaper and 
 periodical dealers throughout the country. 
 
 Troy, N. Y. 
 
 Philadelphia. 
 
 Ohio. 
 
 Detroit, Mich. 
 
 Missouri. 
 
 Canada West. 
 
 ew Orleans, La. 
 
 travelling agents. 
 John Warren, 50 Andover street, for Boston and vi- 
 ;inity. 
 Jaraes Doyle, of Millbury, Mass. 
 Michael F. Hackett of Providence, R. I. 
 William Hession of Waterbury, Ct. 
 James Cnllen of West Troy, N. Y. 
 Daniel A. Brosuan of rhiladelphia. Pa. 
 
 'Dauhy MoKeon.' We must decline your last favor. 
 It does not approach mediocrity. Song writing Is, un- 
 doubtedly, the most diflicult of all species of poetical oom- 
 j)osition, and a poor song, in the language of Dogberry, 'is 
 most tolerable and not to be endured.' 
 
 'IxioN.' As a general rule, C is soft when preceding, and 
 hard when succeeding a vowel; the word should thei'efore 
 be i)ronounced as if spelt 'Selt.' We arc unable at present, 
 for lack of data, to answer your other question, but will do 
 so in our next. 
 
 'Eugene,' Lowell. The disgraceful flight of James from 
 his kingdom, was considered a sulhcient justification for the 
 disposal of the crown by the Lords and Commons. We 
 are not aware that he ever made a formal abdication. You 
 had better consult Macaulay aud Dr. Liugard on the point. 
 
 IRISH MISCELLANY, 
 
 BOSTON, SATURDAY, JULY 17, 1858 
 
 PICNIC OF THE 
 
 Iui9H Readino Uoom Akbooiation of Salkm. 
 We have received a polite invitation to attend the annual 
 Picnic of the above named ascociation, whicli iu to be held 
 in Standley'8 Grove, North IJeverly, on Thursday, the iBth 
 instant. The muKic is to be turnished by Oilmore'H Bund, 
 and ali who attend will Imvc a pleasant time. TickctsSO 
 cents— children half price. We regret that other engage- 
 ments will prevent our attendance. 
 
 THE CALWAY LINE. 
 
 We regret to say, that up to the present time the Galway 
 line of steamers— for the welfare of which there were so 
 many heartfelt prayers, and anticipations of perfect success 
 —has turned out au utter failure. In our last issue, we an- 
 nounced the arrival of the Indian Empire, the pioneer of 
 the line, oft" Halifax on the night of the 29th ult. ; that she 
 landed the liritish North American mails, and at4 o'clock 
 in the morninf^ proceeded on her way to New York. Ten 
 days have elapsed since that time, yet we have met with no 
 account of her arrival at that city. Can it be possible that 
 some calamity has befallen her? It is far from our wishes 
 to prognosticate ill luck, but in this interim of ten days, 
 what has become of her? That her machinery was defect- 
 ive when she left Galway, there can be no denial, for we 
 have the authority of the Irish papers in stating that the de- 
 lay originally in Galway, was occasioned by a worn out 
 boiler that required patching; besides this, the fact of break- 
 ing her piston is another proof of the weakness of her ma- 
 chinery. Now a bad boiler is apt to collapse or blow up at 
 any moment, and thus destroy a ship. Again, the ship, 
 when off Cape Race encountered a number of icebergs, aud 
 is it unnatural to suppose that after leaving Halifax sheen- 
 countered one of those ocean terrors, aud met the fate of 
 the Arctic? God forbid that any accident has befallen her. 
 Let us rather, hope, that after landing her mails at Halifax 
 she returned to Galway instead of proceeding on to New 
 York. But if such is not the case, we cannot account for 
 her unprecedented delay in arriving at New York, except 
 irom the causes above mentioned. 
 
 Turning from this disheartening view of the case, how- 
 ever, it gives us infinite pleasure to quote Irom the Nation 
 of the 26th ult , which says: 'we are glad to see that Mr, 
 Lever, the spirited proprietor of the line of direct steam 
 communication between this country and America, has al- 
 ready provided a second ship to follow the Indian Empire. 
 The American Empire will sail direct from Galway on the 
 27th of July, with passengers and freight. We have only 
 time to direct attention to this important announcement, 
 which satisfactorily demonstrates the determination oi the 
 enterprising projector of this American line to carry it out 
 to the last.' The, American Empire is one of the fastest 
 steamers afloat. 
 
 NOTICES TO CORRESPONDENTS. 
 
 0;;^ Communications intended for insertion in tbis paper, 
 Bhould be addressed 
 
 'To the Editors of the 
 Iri.^h Miscellany, 
 Boston, Mass.* 
 All letters of a private nature must be accompanied with 
 a ptamp to defray postage, as otherwise no notice can be 
 taken of them 
 
 Communications from subgcribers, should be directed 
 from the township, county and state in which they reside. 
 ^[y- We cannot take any notice of communications in- 
 tended for inpertion, if written on both sides of the paper. 
 
 [r7* Correspondent« must furninh us with their names, in 
 confidence, or their favors cannot be published. 
 
 0:7" We cannot rtturn any manuscript scntue for publica- 
 tion. 
 
 (Q=" Oiru CouuKflroNnENTft should forward commnnica- 
 
 Mons intended for insertion in the Misrrllnny, not later than 
 
 tie Saturday before the day of publication, as our increas- 
 
 ig circulation compels us to go to press every Monday 
 
 aoming. 
 
 *JoHN O'BcYLE,' Newton, Long Island; 'James O'- 
 Keeffe,' Savannah, Georgia; and 'Thomas Brady,' Al- 
 bany, N. Y., will find their questions answered on refer- 
 ence to an article entitled 'To Subscriber* ' 
 
 OUR PICTURE GALLERY* 
 
 TO AGENTS AND SUUSCKlBETiS. 
 
 Owing to the length of time which must of necessity be 
 occupied in the production of our Gift picture, we are re- 
 luctantly compelled to postpone its presentation for a short 
 period. 
 
 We have, also, determined to change the subject some- 
 what, and instead ot the blowing up of the siege and bag- 
 gage trains, intend to give the surprise and rout ol the 
 forces of the Prince of Orange by Sarsficid, just previous to 
 the blowing up. The picture is now in the hands of Mr. D. 
 M. Carter of New York, a:i artist of eminent ability, and 
 who, we are sure, will do the subject every justice, if we 
 may judge from liis famous military picture of 'covering 
 the retreat at Breed's Uill.' 
 
 The size of the picture will be seventeen inches by eleven, 
 with suitable margins, and will be a splendid subject for 
 framing. 
 
 In reply to numerous enquirie?, we beg to say that every 
 person who has taken the Miscellany from the first, either 
 by paying us in advance, or by purchasing it regularly at a 
 periodical store will be entitled to all our Gifts. Persona 
 intending to become subscribers shftuld forward us their 
 subscriptions at once. 
 
 New subscriptions can commence at any time previous to 
 the publication of our first picture, which will be issued at 
 the earliest possible moment. 
 
 A casual purchaser of our paper cannot expect to receive 
 a picture worth SI, 50. We again ask our agents and sub- 
 scribers to send in their orders immediately? 
 
 TO SUBSCRIBERS* 
 
 Wc are continually in the recipt of letters, from person! 
 who take the Miscellany, asking for inlormation concern 
 ing our Gift Pictures. For instance: J. McDermot ir 
 Bramford, Ct., writes that he 'would like to know how ii 
 will be with a person who has taken the paper from'tht 
 first number, from a newsboy who goes on the cars.' Ir 
 answer to that enquiry in particular— and it will co-ver the 
 cases of all others in a similar position— we would reiterate 
 that all persons who have taken the Mi.scellany from the 
 first, will be entitled to our pictures. Our agents— those 
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 tion to those only who have taken the paper from the first, 
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 sure method is, to send the amount of subscription direct 
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 is issued. This Is the only way which we can guarantee the 
 picture to our subt-cribcrs, for this course makes us person- 
 ally responsible for its safe delivery. 
 
 The picture is now in thehand.H of our lithograithic ar- 
 tist, who is paying it all the attention which its merits de- 
 mand, and we are iu confident exjiectations of presenting 
 it to our readers with the close of the liret volume 
 
 OUR NEXT NUMBER. 
 
 The next number of the Miscellany for the week 
 ending Saturday, July 24th, will contain large and 
 spirited views of the Ruins of the Franciscan Abbey, and 
 the Castle and Bridge of Adair, iu the county of Limerick; 
 also, a full page rural view entitled 'Returning from Mar- 
 ket,' a scene in the county Kilkenny. Music— 'Home, 
 Sweet Home,' by Sir H. Bishop, with an accompaniment, 
 for the Piano Forte. The usual variety of original 
 and selected matter will be presented and the number 
 will be a rich one. Send in your orders at once. The 
 paper will be issued on Monday, the 19th inst., and will be 
 sold by all periodical dealers and newsmen generally. 
 
 NOS. FOUR AND FIVE. 
 
 Having completed the necessary arrangements, we will 
 with our regular number for the 17th of July, issue an ex- 
 tra edition of No 4; aud on the following week, No. 5. 
 Will our agents take notice of this fact, and send in their 
 orders as soon as possible? 
 
 TRAVELLING AGENTS WANTED. 
 
 A CHANCE TO MAKE MONEY. 
 
 We have determined to appoint a number of Travelling 
 Agents, to travel in the various States of theUuionand 
 canvass for subscribers for this paper Wc do this at the 
 earnest request of many warm friends, who think we do 
 not take the requisite steps to make the paper known as ex- 
 tensively as it ought to he. 
 
 Persons desirous of becoming Travelling Agents, who 
 can be well recommended, are requested to apply at our 
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 ply. To such a liberal commission will be allowed. Apply 
 at ourPublication Office,,* Water street, Boston. 
 
 CLUBS! CLUBS!! CLUBS!!! 
 
 There is no town or village so small, but a club of six or 
 more subscribers for the Irish Miscellany can be easily ob- 
 tained. Will those of our friends who are well-wishejs ol 
 the land of their birth, do us the favor of getting up Clubs. 
 Our terms will b.e— 
 To a club of six persons sent to one address, SIO.OO 
 
 Toa club of twelve, la.OO 
 
 The whole of the money must invariably be sent at one 
 remittance, and in advance. 
 
 In addition to this great reduction of price, each member 
 of a Club will be ciitltled to copies of all our splendid Gift 
 Pictures. Let our friends exert themselves, and by their 
 patronage make the Miscellauy the foremost Iriah journal 
 on this continent. 
 
 BACK NUMBERS. 
 
 Back numbers ol the Misctllany, from the commence- 
 ment of the paper, nmy be procured through any of our 
 regular agents, or by sending direct to the office of publi 
 cation. No. 4 Water street, Boston. Will our Iriends in 
 want bear thia fact in miud? 
 
362 
 
 IRISH SnSCELLAlSY. 
 
 Wiilli'ii foitlie Mifccllnuy. 
 ■ WAITAWHILE.' 
 
 D Y THOMAS ft. I> O N O a O . 
 
 ■ Tlic mnple, with its silver leaf, 
 
 The willow, wnvliiR grewriilly, 
 Tlieir loviiiR bmnchcii intcrliicc 
 Above « sweet, scqiieBtcred pliice,— 
 
 The (lenn-sf spot of eiirlli to me! 
 For niemopy'n oluirin— nll'ectiou'a smile — 
 Hallow my homo at •Wuitttwhile!' 
 
 Fleasuit It is, in Siiimiier hours. 
 
 With her 1 love these paths to roam, 
 Gazing on suum't's giitherinK glow, 
 Listening the winilstliat come and go, 
 
 From heaven, to heaven, with songs of home! 
 Sorrows of earth— Wrong, U»te and Uuile, 
 Learn tVom the love of 'Waitawhilel' 
 
 Even in that little word it dwells, 
 
 A word of peace, and faittt and power. 
 Wandering around the world, wcsaw, 
 W'hen doubt grew dark, that living law. 
 
 And joj', a sunburst, gilt the hour. 
 Word that all ills can reconcile, 
 Heart and home motto: 'Waitawhile!' 
 
 If seeming good, when sought, retire, 
 If seeming evil, shunned, draw nigh, 
 
 ■Whether the wreath— or threatening rod— 
 
 'Be still, atKl know that I am (Jon !' 
 Chastens the hoiw, or calms the sigh. 
 
 Love all! Fear none! Live on and smile; 
 
 Earth's watch-word— Ueaven's— is- Waitawhile' 
 
 Written for the Miscellany. 
 THE EXILE. 
 
 BY J . 8 r O T T I 8 W O D E . 
 
 When the sun 'neath western hills descends. 
 
 To brighten other climes; 
 And the sound of vesper bell ascends 
 
 When summer uay declines; 
 Each son of toil released from care. 
 
 At evening's advent, goes 
 To seek a balm for the wear and tear 
 
 Continued labor knows. 
 
 The farmer speeds to his rustic home 
 
 Seated amid the hills, 
 Where in life's morn he loved to roam 
 
 With mild unvexed by ills; 
 And now in manhood's sober day 
 
 He tastes a sweet alloy, 
 Of labor and care, that alternate 
 
 With calm, domestic joy. 
 
 The merchant from his warehouse goes, 
 
 Dismissing thoughts of gain, 
 Which mar content and serenity, 
 
 Till sunrise greets.again ; 
 Thoughts oj society, home or Iricuds 
 
 Vosscss his lolty mind, 
 While every dream of sordid ends 
 
 Is banished far behind. 
 
 But different far from the.«c I eing. 
 
 When the busy world's at rest. 
 Are the thoughts that shades of evening bring 
 
 Lnto the exiles breast; 
 With undiminished love of Ifome, 
 
 O'er space, through lapse of years, 
 His raptured mind docs backward roam 
 
 To more endearing splieres. 
 
 • To the rural cottage where he dwelt 
 
 When life was young and pure, 
 Tothe village church where tirst he knelt 
 
 To pastor, meek and poor; 
 To the little school of stone and thatch 
 
 And unasuming height. 
 And the fields where on in life's first dawn, 
 
 He bounded tree and light. 
 
 But grief with saddening wing soon comes 
 
 The retrospect to mar, 
 For friends of youth— loved forms of home, 
 
 Kow dead or distant far. 
 Though 'mid a bustling world he dwells 
 
 Their abfcuce o'er his heart 
 Sheds darkuing gloom, until beseems, 
 
 To live from lUe apart. 
 
 Written lor the Mitcelliiiiy. 
 NOTES FROM A JOURNAL. 
 
 iiY J. E. r. 
 No. 5 — Glengariffto Skibbcrecn. 
 
 around llic door of the hotel in tlie cvi-niiig, and one 
 of tlicm sung out : — 
 
 ' Toss u copper, sir, und sec us scramble for it.' 
 l)ut not liking this kind of aiuuseinent, wc de- 
 clined. 
 
 [To be continued.] 
 
 Before breakfast to-day, we visitud Cromwell's 
 liridge, .said tn have been built in the following man- 
 ner : — 
 
 Cromwell, of bloody memory, in his work of de- 
 molishing the splendid churches and custles of Ire- 
 land, came to the river here, and there being no 
 bridge, he was unable to cross it with his army, 
 lie immediately issued an edict to the peasantry, 
 commanding them to have a bridge built in twenty 
 four hours, and if they failed he would hang a man 
 f ir every minute's delay. Oliver's reputation for 
 hanging beina satisfactory to the peasant's, they 
 passively obeyed, and thus the bridge was built. It 
 is now unused, and in ruins. 
 
 The mail-coach now rumbled by, and after swal- 
 lowing a hasty breakfast, -we took our seats on top, 
 and a red-faced ' Jehu ' was soon driving four-in- 
 hand over the serpentine road to Bantry. ^V^len 
 within two miles of Bantry, we alighted, and told 
 the driver to send our luggage to Skiljjpereen, and 
 we would walk thither ; preferring it to being stif- 
 fened for want of room on the coach. 
 
 About noon we arrived at Bantry, containing but 
 few good houses, the inhabitants being principally 
 fisherman. The bay on which the town stands is 
 well sheltered, and it is said all the fleets in the world 
 might safely anchor in it. Here according to Jloore, 
 the colonists from Spain landed above a thousand 
 years ago. There are excellent oysters here, and we 
 had a 'dozen on the shell,' at the hotel, the 'host' 
 telling us the anecdote of the man who was troubled 
 with a poor appetite, and as a remedy he was ad- 
 vised 10 cat some oysters before dinner. He tried 
 the experiment, and said, although he eat a hundred 
 every day, he noticed that his appetite got no bet- 
 ter ! 
 
 After a stay of a couple of hours we ' took up 
 our line of march' towards the classic region of 
 Skibbcrecn, where we arrived at six P. M. This 
 being Saturday, the streets were crowded with many 
 of ' the finest peasantry in the world ' doing their 
 marketing. AVe had pictured to ourselves a raiser- 
 able town, where wretchedness would be everywhere 
 visible, and were agreeably disappointed to find a 
 very stirring town, containing many fine buildings, 
 and a populations of some 6000. We disposed of 
 ourselves and a supper at the Commercial Hotel, and 
 then strolled out to view the town. 
 
 Skibbcrecn being the centre town of a large dis- 
 trict, it does a good business in butter and eggs, 
 which are sent from here to Cork to export, and I am 
 of the opinion that the consumers of the former 
 would not have much relish for it if they could see 
 the manner in which it is pawed and handled, pre- 
 paratory to being pitched into carts. 
 
 Getting into conversation with a Catholic clergy- 
 man, he gave me a terrible picture of ' death's de- 
 vastating doom,' in the memorable years of the 
 famine, when in the silent hour of midnight the 
 carts rumbled through the streets with their loads 
 of coffinleas dead. Many and many were the eases 
 whcrcjhe fever and famine stricken beings were 
 obliged to eat the flesh of dogs and horses, to stay 
 the gnawings of hunger; and iHany were the cases 
 where the dogs in turn made a meal on some unhap- 
 py wretch who had made ' the earth his bed, the 
 sky his covering,' and lain down to die by the road- 
 side. That overstocked graveyard on the hill, where 
 they were buried by scores at the time, tells a sad 
 story, and the overstocked Work-house, confirms 
 it. But the picture is sickening, and those days 
 have pas.sed, never, I hope, to return. 
 
 The town is fast looking up, yet beggars are very 
 niunerous. A crowd of ragged urchins collected 
 
 Written for the Iriuli Miscellany. 
 INK DROPS: 
 
 PUOM THE PEN OF TItE 'QUEER COVE." 
 
 No. 9. — He celebrateth the Glorious Fovtrth. 
 
 Determined, in common with all patriotic lovers 
 of their country, Mr. Editor, to pay due honor and 
 respect to the birth day of this ' great and gloriou* 
 kedentry,' and with a desire to gratify my aboriginal 
 friends the ' Old Dog,' and the ' Mustang Colt,' with 
 a view of the sights, on the eventful morning of the 
 5th, I took the advice of Mr. Hurdis, as contained 
 in one of his ' pomes,' (although I am not in the habit 
 of taking the advice of any individual, ' whatsomc- 
 dever,') and 
 
 ' Rose with the lark.' 
 
 After performing my ablutions, an operation per- 
 formed by Musselmen, as well as Cliristians, for 
 which Allah be praised ! I 'sailed out' to 'scent 
 the morning air,' as Hamlet's ghost hath it, and to 
 inhale the boquet of a delicious glass of ' cold with- 
 out.' Feeling my ardor begin to mount, I invested 
 largely in a species of portable gun, manufactured 
 by the natives of the ' central flowery kingdom,' and 
 which find a ready and extensive sale hereabouts 
 on certain occasions. Injudiciously, I placed the 
 combustibles, together with a bunch of ' lucifers ' 
 in my 'cadi,' and, like one of the patriarchs, ' went 
 on ray way rejoicing.' I had not proceeded many 
 steps, however, when I was startled by the noise of 
 a terrific explosion. I looked around — nothing was 
 to be seen ; into the air, and there — ' horror of hor- 
 rors ' — 1 beheld the infinitisimal portions of what 
 was once a hat, and clusters of ' Hyperion curls !' 
 Making for the nearest barber's shop, I incontinent- 
 ly had my head shaved, and at this moment, Mr. 
 Editor, I present the appearance of a lunatic who 
 has been permitted to wander forth without person- 
 al restraint. 
 
 My curiosity was attracted by a party of 'mum- 
 mers,' conspicuous among whom, were mj' Indian 
 friends. I rescued them, 'rather the worse,' even 
 at that unseasonable hour, (5 A. M.) for cheap 'fire 
 water.' Took breakfast, and feeling ' recthcr bet- 
 ter,' as Bailey Jr. observed to Poll Swcedlepipes, 
 we dropped into that abortive arrangement at the 
 foot of the Common, facetiously or ironically, I 
 know not which, termed the ' public garden,' but in 
 the language of Shakspeare let me say : — 
 
 'Ficon't! tie! 'tis an unwceded garden 
 That grows to seed; things rank and gross i 
 Possess it merely.' 
 
 I nature, 
 
 Purchased large quantities of flowers, which wilt- 
 ed as soon as they came in contact with the exuding 
 pores of my moist hand, from a nymph with pink 
 eyes and a blue dress — no, with a blue dress and 
 pink eyes. The Old Dog, with an eye to the beau- 
 tiful, and attracted by the softness of her voice, 
 (King Lear, you know, says of Cordelia — 
 
 'Her voice was ever soft. 
 Gentle and low; an excellent thing in woman,') 
 
 insisted on dancing a barbaric polka for her amuse- 
 ment ; while the Mustang with an expressive ' ugh !' 
 said : — 
 
 ' Squaw no good; she no cook a deer steak, or 
 make big Indian moccasins.' 
 
 In this respect, ilr. Editor, I think he -was quite 
 right ; for the young women of the present day, 
 
 'The maidens of blushing fifteen,' 
 as Sheridan calls them, are sadly deficient in theii 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 363 
 
 'bringing up," with regard to culiuary iinil other 
 household duties. Cook a doer steixk ! ' My duke- 
 dom to a beggarly denier' they know not how to 
 boil a potatoe or make a bed — more'sthe pity. 
 
 On to the eonimon. My ears dinned with a con- 
 fusion of sounds, emanating from a mob of trum- 
 pets, cannons, drums, anvils, ' wry-necked iifes,' and 
 bra«^n throats — the latter instruments creating such 
 a frightful roar, that the Old Dog, who had become 
 slightly obfusticated, and who, like Young Norval, 
 was is possession of a 
 
 'Beudeil bow and quiver full of arrows,' 
 discharged one of them at random into the crowd, 
 under the delusion that it was a herd of buffaloes. 
 This was occasioned by the fact that his ' visual orbs' 
 had become partially obscured. 
 
 AVitnessed the various processions, which were 
 like Falstaft'.s soldiers, 'exceeding bare and beggar- 
 ly,' and one of them, by the way, 'went two and 
 two, Newgate fashion'; saw those truly practical 
 hydropathists, the 'boys' who 'run wid der mer- 
 ehiue,' and wished that I was a conflasration, that 
 I might be put out there and then. (At this point, 
 the Mustang took it into his 'nowl' to discharge a 
 heavily loaded gun, and the result was his being 
 landed on top of an awning, where we left him to 
 collect his scattered senses, and enjoy a comforta- 
 ble 'snooze.') 
 
 From this time until the afternoon, I am not 
 cognizant of how the time was spent. It must 
 have been frightfully 'out of joint.' I have a glim- 
 mer — a very faint one however — of a recollection 
 that I was affected like David Copperfield the 
 younger, on that memorable occasion when he in- 
 formed Agnes Wickfield confidentially, thafhe was 
 'nerrerberrer.' 
 
 Having recovered my wonted energy and taking 
 the Mustang down from his eyrie, we again visited 
 the Common for the purpose of beholding the bal- 
 loon ascension. Having decided objections to a 
 'back Seat' we 'squeeged' onrselves, as Mrs. Gamp 
 would say, through the crowd, and soon, by dint 
 of perseverence, found onrselves inside of the en- 
 closure. The balloons were on the point of going 
 up, when the ilustang, with the intention of hav- 
 ing an aerial ride, siczed the rope which bound the 
 machine to earth; a sudden jerk nearly tore his arms 
 from their sockets; he was picked up senseless, ta- 
 ken to the hospital 'on the usual mode of convey- 
 ance, a shutter; and at the present time, is, like the 
 ancient Hebrew monarch, David, 'stretched on the 
 bed of languishing ' 
 
 Being in a good position to see the fireworks, the 
 Old Dog and myself concluded to stay where we 
 were. As darkness succeeded the gloaming, and 
 the rockets and fiery cressets were traversing the 
 air, the Old Dog, that he might the better see the 
 display, insisted on climbing into a tree. In his as- 
 cent, however, one of those 'institutions' which run 
 along upon a cord and resemble a fiery boa con- 
 strictor, ^came full against his head, and as that was 
 much softer than the serpent, why the Old Dog, 
 was, as a matter of course as Plato expresses it, 
 'knocked into a cocked hat!' 
 
 This ended the day. Feeling an hungered, I 
 sought my chateau; sat down to a hearty supper; 
 and, like the title of 'grandfather' in the Weller 
 family, have 'lain dormouse' ever since. 
 
 CORRESPONDENCE. 
 
 PitoviiJEN-CE, July 8th, 1858. 
 Editors of the Miscellany ; — 
 
 The glorious fourth wa%rcndcrcd still more glo- 
 rious to the Catholic popvdation of our city, by the 
 imposing ceremonies on the occasion of the dedica- 
 tion of the Church of the Immaculate Conception, 
 to the worship of Almighty God. 
 
 At thirty-five minutes past ten o'clock, the pro- 
 cession left the sacristy and proceeded down the 
 
 left aisle to the front door, ivhcn the Bishop offer- 
 ed up a prayer, after which the procession moved 
 round the church, chaunting the /JOth psalm — the 
 Bishop in the mean time sprinkling the walls 
 with holy water. After the psalm, the chaunters 
 took up the litany of the Saints. On arriving at 
 the front door, the procession re-entered, and pro- 
 ceeded up the right aisle to the altar, wlicre the lit- 
 any was concluded. It then proceeded in like man- 
 ner round the inside of the church, ch'aunting the 
 118th, 119th and 120th psalms. 
 
 The following is the order of procession: — 
 Cross bearer and acolitcs 
 Altar boys 
 Master of ceremonies — Rev. John Sheridan, of the 
 
 Cathedral 
 Chaunters — Very Rev. James Hughes, V.G. of 
 Hartford; Rev. Thomas Quin of Meriden, 
 Conn.; Rev. James O'Niel of the Ca- 
 thedral; and Rev. P. Brown 
 of St. Joseph's, Prov. 
 Priests in vestments^Rcv. Patrick Delaney of 
 Pawtucket; Rev. P. F. Glennen of 
 the Cathedral 
 
 Right Rev. F. P. McFarland, Bishop of the 
 diocese, and train bearers. 
 
 After blessing the church, the grand high mass of 
 SS. Peter and Paulf was commenced — the Rev. P. 
 Lambe, of St. Patrick's, celebrant; Rev. P. Dela- 
 ney, deacon; Rev. P. F. Glennen, sub-deacon; Rev 
 J. Sheridan, master of ceremonies. 
 
 The preacher of the day. Rev. Dr. Moriarity of 
 Philadelphia, not having arrived, the Rev. Thomas 
 Quin of Merriden, Connecticut, delivered an im- 
 promptu address, having had no Intimation of it 
 until a short time previous to the celebration of 
 mass. His sermon as well as that of the bishop at 
 vespers, was an able production. 
 
 The building was commenced July 29th, 1857. 
 It is built of brick, is 112 by 64 feet, surmounted 
 with a wooden spire 160 feet in height, and is in- 
 tended to accommodate 1000 persons. The design 
 was furnished by the celebrated architect P. C. 
 Keely, Esq., of Brooklyn, N.Y. The mason work 
 was done by Messrs. Read & Martin of this city. 
 The carpentering by M. McCormick of Newport; 
 and the frescoing by Meyers & Co., of Boston. 
 
 This beautiful edifice is the fifth monument of 
 the zeal which the Catholic population of our city 
 has manifested, and still continues to manifest, in 
 the cause of their faith. The interior of the edifice, 
 owing to the time specified in the contract having 
 expired, is yet in an unfinished condition, but when 
 completed, will be the handsomest church edifice in- 
 ternally, in the city. 
 
 The Irish American Society were in attendance 
 at the church, arrayed in their regalia, numbering 
 about one hundred and twenty members. Thev 
 also paraded on the 3th,- as did also the Ancient Or- 
 der of Hibernians, and by their good conduct made 
 a favorable impression on the minds of our fellow 
 citizens towards us. Frank. 
 
 CLEANINGS FROM IRISH JOURNALS. 
 
 We select the following items from the latest pa- 
 pers, by the arrival of the Niagara, which left Liv- 
 erpool on the 26th ult : — 
 
 What our Fathers were when O'Connetj, was 
 Born. — A 'Layman' in Limerick, writes thus of 
 O'Conncll and the times in which he was born. It 
 shows that only he was a man of extraordinary 
 • pluck ' he never could have achieved what he did. 
 
 ' It is unnecessary to remind you of what your 
 fathers were when the Liberator was bom. Who 
 that reads their slavish petitions but will ' hang his 
 head with shame.' Remember that in 1791, four 
 millions of (Jatholics could not get one man to pre- 
 sent their petitions to Parliament. The policy of 
 England made it necessary to allow Catholics to get 
 
 leases to hold property, and in 1793, Catholics were 
 culled to the bar. Read the description historians 
 give of those Catholic barristers used by the Gov- 
 ernment, and afraid to acknowledge themselves 'Pa- 
 pists ;' read the speech of the ' Young Kerry Bar- 
 rister' in 1813. In 1815, first called the counsellor, 
 read his reply to Attorney-General Saurin, in the 
 presence of Mr. Secretary Peel, before the judges of 
 the King's Bench. Saurin was the champion of 
 Protestant ascendancy in this country. Peel and 
 Saurin, and all the Government of that day— judges 
 and jury— all were of the Orange ascendancy ; were 
 sworn implacable enemies of the Irish race and Irish 
 faith. Saurin heaped calumny on the CathoHcs of 
 Ireland; he bearded them, he sneered at them, 
 O'Connell dared the braggart to the field ; he with- 
 ered before his fierce invective and denunciations. 
 He fell, and Protestant ascend.aney got then in that 
 court a blow it never recovered. The judges thought 
 to stop him. He folded his arms — he hurled his 
 'high and haughty defiance' at "the minions of the 
 Government, and exclaimed, in a voice which sent 
 dismay and terror into their tyrant hearts — ' You 
 have listened to the villification of the Catholic 
 Board ; you must now listen to their vindication !' 
 And remember this was said when, to use the words 
 of one of Ireland's orators, ' Irelrnd could be traced 
 through the statute book like a wounded man, by 
 her blood.' ' 
 
 .Address to Lady Londonderry A deputa- 
 tion from the tenantry of the Lame estates of the 
 Earl of Antrim, which are shortly to be sold under 
 the Incumbered Escates Court, waited upon the 
 Marchioness of Londonderry, on Friday last, at 
 her town residence, Holdernesse House, London, 
 to present to her ladyship an address, inscribed 
 'To the Most Noble Frances Anne, Marchioness of 
 Londonderry'— an address, (signed by almost every 
 tenant on the Antrim estates) of a character as nov- 
 el as it must be gratifying to the noble lady princi- 
 pally interested. The Larne estates of the Earl of 
 Antrim, as we have said, are shortly to be sold in 
 the Incumbered Estates Court. The tenantry upon 
 the estates seeing the prosperity of those who hold 
 lands under the Marchioness of Londonderry, 
 adopted the unusual but gratifying course of send- 
 ing this deputation to her ladyship, requesting her 
 to purchase the property now about to change 
 owners, that they also might experience the bene- 
 fits which they knew those upon the adjoinin" es- 
 tate to enjoy. Circumstances have prevented the 
 Marchioness from adopting the course suggested, 
 although her own heart was set upon it; but the 
 reply given to the deputation was kindly and char- 
 acteristic, and the transaction presents a new and 
 pleasing feature in the relations between landlord 
 and tenant in Ireland. 
 
 A Relic of '98. — As some laborers were cuttin" 
 turf in a bog near Ballynahinch, on the 15th inst. 
 they came upon the skeleton of a man, who had 
 been buried in his clothes. The garments had all 
 rotted away, but round his neck was a green silk 
 handkerchief, in a perfect state of preservation, after 
 having been there for sixty years ; for it is known 
 that his body is that of one of a party of five or six 
 who were cut down by the troops while attempting 
 to escape from the battle of Ballynahinch. The hair 
 still remained on the head. Some sugar loaf and 
 flat buttons were found beside the skeleton. 
 
 A man in praising porter said it -was an excellent 
 beverage ; that though taken in great quantities it 
 always made liim fat. ' I have seen the time when 
 it made vou lean.' ' When, I should be glad to 
 know .-• said the eulogist. ' Why, no longer since 
 than last night — against the wall.' 
 
364 
 
 IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 Wrilli'U for lllu ML-ci'lluiiy 
 WALKS AND TALKS. 
 
 IIY VKUNU.N, 
 
 'As I walked by niyiwlf, 
 I lulki'd to mvK'lf, 
 
 Auil ttius ni}t«lf g&iil to lUi*.* 
 
 The Colonel. 
 
 • — I went to school with the Colonel. That was 
 twenty-live yeorsngo. 
 
 These few, simple words, how they bring back 
 our tciichcr, in all the majesty of his little school- 
 house — our joyous young comi>nnions 
 
 Hut I must not allow so wide a field to memory. 
 If I begin to wander there, stories will rise at every 
 Btcp, like the small starry flowers on the green 
 plains of Spring. 
 
 The Col-nel will be the single pprtrait I shall 
 sketch to-day. In boyhood, we called him ' Jack 
 Jones," and whence his military title, nobody knows, 
 nor anjthing more about it than that is universally 
 given him, to tlie exclusion of every other name 
 whatsoever. 
 
 Jack was a poor boy, but a bright one. Never- 
 theless, our teacher used frequently to say that 
 ' Jack would never die of hard study." Nor did he 
 seem at all in danger of such a death, for his cheeks 
 were round and rosy, his eyes quick and piercing ; 
 the whole outward boy was in excellent condition 
 of most unstndent-like health, and the inner boy 
 a perpetual bonfire of fun. Yet who could learn a 
 lesson sooner that Jack Jones ? — if he chose ! He 
 didn"t often choose, however ; and if the rod leaped 
 out to enforce duty, as sometimes happened — not a 
 correct recitation from Jack for a week after ! He 
 was a wonderful Jack for stubbornness. Persuasion 
 would help him along, but persuasion was a sorry 
 truant in those days, and seldom found at school. 
 Still, Jack being a good-hearted, merry lad, and a 
 general favorite among his mates, they assisted his 
 recitations by whispers at the important moment, 
 and, further aided by careful readings from ingenious 
 inscriptions on his finger nails, he managed pretty 
 well, after all. 
 
 In one part of school duty he was particularly ex- 
 pert, namely, in obedience to the order, ' Lay by 
 your books and slates !' And though, as we have 
 confessed, he was not the first boy in school, he 
 certainly was the first boy ' out " of it, with a bound 
 and a shout, too, that, by their exuberance, endan- 
 gered his being brought back, to learn, in solitary 
 confinement, that sublime lesson : ' moderation in 
 pleasure!" 
 
 During 'play time," Jack frequently entertained 
 himself, and the little admiring crowd, by perform- 
 ing on the flute, which he did daintily, though ig- 
 norant of a .single note of music. Everybody said 
 he was a genius ; and Jack believed everybody, and 
 was proud of it. There was his ambition ; what 
 were books to Jack Jones ! 
 
 That flute led him ' on to fortune ' — and misfor- 
 tune. 
 
 Trifling circumstances often change the current 
 of human events, just as a stojie, near the source of 
 a river, may divert the course of all the mighty 
 waters. 
 
 Jack left school. He had finishedhis 'book-lcam- 
 in"," for his father's humble means could assist him 
 no longer — and, in truth, the boy's disposition taught 
 him to consider the parent's poverty as rather a for- 
 tunate ciicumstance. Jack was sixteen years of 
 age. Now he went to work in earnest — not at the 
 dull task assigned him in the shop, but to perfect 
 his education— on the flute. Many wcrt the stolen 
 hours devoted to this darling object. 
 
 One day he was playing finely in an obscure al- 
 ley — the happiest boy in town — surrounded by ju- 
 venile male and female blacks, whose big rolling 
 eyes expressed delightful appriciation 
 
 WiiKS (This must begin a sentence, for here 
 
 the cards of Fortune ' turn up Jack,') a digni- 
 fied gcntlcnutn, passing along the neighboring street, 
 stopped. — 
 
 Stopped a long time, and listened with evident 
 pleasure. 
 
 Even the discord of politics may not, in some 
 souls, frighten away the delicate .spirits of harmony 
 which have once found there congenial homes. Thus 
 the Honorable listener still owned the charms of 
 music. Thus, he did not forget to speak of the flute 
 boy, that day, at dinner. His Honorable lady, her- 
 self an admirable musician, was deeply interested in 
 the description : — 
 
 ' \Ve must have him here !' 
 
 And he came ; and those rich parlors seemed more 
 rich, pervaded by the magic melody of that poor 
 boy's flute. 
 
 ' A friend in the Court," says Shakspearo, ' is bet- 
 ter than a penny in the purse." Jack had both. 
 
 A new name was soon heard at roll-call among 
 the romantic highlands of the Hudson. On Satur- 
 day afternoons, a new flute whispered, surpassing 
 all the old ones, from a window of the Cadets' bar- 
 racks. Nor was there a more soldier-like youth at 
 West Point than Jones. The recitation-rooms, too, 
 gave a good report of him. A glorious prize would 
 reward his toil ! A proud ambition awoke in his 
 soul ! On ! on ! 
 
 All loved him. All praised Mm. All predicted 
 a triumphant future ! 
 
 Curses on the wine cup ! And thou also, Music, 
 even thou — how often dost thou ruin those who love 
 thee, those whose simple, generous spirits thou ren- 
 dercst so susceptible to the siren — Praise ! 
 
 Ah, how few can resist the siren, when, smiling 
 rapturously, she offers the rosy wine ! 
 
 The scene changes. 'The Colonel' is again in his 
 native town — in lowest poverty, disgrace, and con- 
 tinual drunkenness. He has taken possession of a 
 ruinous hut, in the suburbs. A little ragged boy 
 is with him. 'Charley' calls the Colonel father. 
 Alas, poor child of such a father ! A woman is 
 there, too — a picture more sad than the man — a 
 drunken woman — a cruel mother — a mother, but 
 not a wife. 
 
 The Colonel occasionally condescends to drive a 
 cart, when pressed for money ; at other times he 
 will ' get a drink,' now almost his only want, by a 
 tune on the old flute — a dull, stammering instru- 
 ment at present — ' the soul of music fled.' 
 
 He wanders about the field surrounding his house 
 — frequently wanders all night, even in the most 
 stormy weather, a bottle in one hand, a gun in the 
 other, drinking from the bottle and firing the gun, 
 alternately ; now sings a profane song, now a devout 
 hymn ; now curses, now prays ; or calls his dog — 
 only to beat him back ; or calls ' Char-ley,' (pro- 
 longing the last syllable,) only to send for more 
 whiskey. 
 
 There is an echo in the neighborhood. The Colo- 
 nel, in his nightly wanderings, is often answered by 
 it. He calls ; — 
 
 ' Char-ley !" 
 
 Echo repeats : ' Char-ley !" 
 
 The Colonel becomes furious. 
 
 ' You ungrateful scoundrel ! Is that the way you 
 moek your father, sir ?' 
 
 ' Father, sir •" 
 
 Then will he swear for an hour, and threaten the 
 child's life, but finally decides to ' make it up ' 
 again: — 
 
 ' Char-ley !' he cries. 
 
 but still the heartless echo mocks him, as all the 
 joys of life have done ; as all the hopes of life will 
 do. 
 
 Has not every city, or village — though less than 
 this National Metropolis — a Jack Jones within it ? 
 Ay, and the world is to them as just as the echo 
 that lives but a moment after their own voice* are 
 hushed. It remembers them no more. 
 
 From tlic London Family Herald. 
 MV FIRST LESSON. 
 
 ■ Ani>Y PuNUEBSox — yes, that was the name of my 
 first schoolmistress. She was one of the stiffcst, 
 nicest, and most thoroughly prim old maids that ev- 
 er took care of other people's children. She taught 
 in a little red school house in 'Shrub Oak,' about 
 half a mile to the back of Fall's Hill. I like to be 
 particular in the geography, though I had never 
 opened an atlas in my life, when Miss Punderson 
 received me into her alphabet class. 
 
 I see her now, sitting so very upright in her high 
 backed chair — solemnly opening the blue paper 
 covers of our primers, and calling me by name. I 
 see the sharp pointed scissors lifted from the chain 
 at her side. I hear the rap, rap, of her thimble 
 against the leather covers of that new spelling 
 book; yes, I feel myself dropping that bashful little 
 courtesy and blushing under those solemn grey eyes 
 as she points down the long row of Koman capitals 
 and tells me to read. I remember it all: she had on 
 a brown cotton dress; her hair was parted plainly, 
 and done up in a French twist behind, there was a 
 good deal of grey in that black hair, and around 
 her grim mouth any quantity of fine wrinkles; but 
 her voice was low and sweet; she was stih', but not 
 cross, and the little girls loved her in a degree, tho' 
 she did give them long stretches of hemming and 
 over-seams to sew. 
 
 My first schoolmistress came from some neighbor- 
 ing town. She was neither Episcopalian nor Pres- 
 byterian; but wore the nicest little Methodist bon- 
 net, made of silver-grey satin, without a bow or bit 
 of lace — a Quaket bonnet cut short. Then she had 
 a dainty silk shawl, tinted like a dove's wing, and 
 always carried her handkerchief folded when she 
 went to piayer meeting. 
 
 The school house stood upon the bank of a small 
 stream which turned a mill just above; it was so 
 overshadowed by young hemlocks that you could 
 (miy hear the singing of the waters as they stole by 
 the windows. Some forty feet of meadow lay be- 
 tween the windows and the bank, and a noble pear 
 tree, full of golden fruit, flung its shadow over the 
 school house, as we got our lessons. Those great 
 bell pears were cruelly tantalizing as they grew and 
 ripened amid the green leaves! but when they came 
 rushing down from the boughs and fell in the grass 
 directly under uj, so plump and mellow; it was re- 
 ally too much for human nature. 
 
 Hut Miss Punderson was strict; she read the gol- 
 den rule every day, and kneeling at her high back- 
 ed chair, prayed diligently night and morning, 
 while we stood mutely around. Indeed her control 
 was so perfect that we hardly ventured to look at 
 the pears when they fell; the idea of touching them 
 never entered our heads. 
 
 But one thing troubled us very much; just as 
 the fruit grew ripest. Miss Punderson began to take 
 her dinner basket and cross into the meadow at the 
 back of the school house, where she would disap- 
 pear down the hemlock bank and stay sometimes 
 during the entire hour of noon. 
 
 One day I was startl^ at ray lesson by a splen- 
 did pear that came rushing from the topmost boughs 
 of the tree, and rolled down towards the millstream. 
 Dan Haines, who was sitting on the second class 
 bench close by me, whispered from behind his spell- 
 ing book 'that the mistress would be after that pear 
 about noon time." 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 335 
 
 Mary Boll, a little girl in my class, looked suddenly 
 up and nodded her head. We bad found it all out ; 
 that was why the mistress crossed the bank every noon. 
 She was fond of pears, and wanted them all to herself 
 — j;reedy old thing ! We began to feel very angry und 
 ill-used ; not one of us would have thought it. What 
 right had she to the pears? They did not belong to 
 her more than to us. In fact, JMary Bi U's fiither, 
 who owned the mill, tind lived in the great house with 
 pointed gnbles, just in sight, was the only person who 
 had a claim on that tree or its fruit. 
 
 When the recess came, we were upon the watch. 
 Just as usnal, the mistress took her dinner-basket, and 
 getting over the fence, went towards the hemlock bank. 
 Once she stooped, as if to tie her shoe. 
 
 ' See, see 1' whispered Dan, who was on his knees 
 peeping through the rail fence. ' She's making believe 
 to tie her shoe, but she's only picking up a pear ! Let's 
 jump over and see the mean old thing eat it !' 
 
 Dan climbed the fence as he spoke, and we followed, 
 a little frightened, bat very resolute to find out the 
 truth. 
 
 Dan went before, treading very softly and looking 
 everywhere in the grass. Onee he stooped, made a 
 dart at a tuft of clover, and up again. I caught a 
 glimpse of something yellow in the hand he Wiis push- 
 ing with considerable hurry and trouble into his pock- 
 et, that swelled out enormously after. But Dan look- 
 ed straight-forward into the hemlocks and began to 
 whistle, which frightened us half out of our wits-, and 
 we threatened to run back again unless he stopped. 
 
 Dan grew cross at this, and went back in high dudg- 
 eon, trying to cover his pocket with one hand. Mary 
 Bell and I would have gone back too, I think, but at 
 that moment we heard a voice from the hemlock 
 bank. 
 
 ' Come, come,' whispered Mary Bell ; ' let's see if 
 she has really got it.' 
 
 We crept forward very softly, and looked over into 
 the stream. It had a dry pebbly shore, broken with a 
 few moss-covered stones, all in deep shadow — for the 
 hemlocks overhung the spot like a tent. Upon one of 
 these stones sat our schoolmistress singing. Her voice 
 was soft and clear, and joined in with the murmers of 
 the stream, solemn and sweet. 
 
 The old maid sung her little hymn, and, casting a 
 timid glance up and down, to be sure that she was in 
 solitude, knelt down by the mossy stone, which had 
 been her seat, and began to pray. 
 
 The mistress was alone with her God ; she had on- 
 ly very simple language in which to tell him her wants, 
 but its earnestness brought the tears into our eyes. 
 
 Poor soul ! she had been grieving all the time that 
 DO one of the scholars ever knelt by her side at prayer. 
 She besought God with such meek earnestness to 
 touch our hearts, and bring us humbly to Hia feet, 
 kneeling, as she did, for a blessing, or in thankfulness. 
 She told Him, as if he had been her only father, how 
 good and bright and precious we were, lacking nothing 
 but his holy grace. She so humbled herself and 
 pleaded for us, that Mary Bell and [ crept away from 
 the bank, crying softly, and ashamed to look each oth- 
 er in the f.ice. 
 
 Dan Haines was sitting in a crook of the fence, eat- 
 ing something very greedily ; but we avoided him, and 
 went into the school house quite heart-broken at our 
 own naughtiness. After a little the mistress eamc in, 
 looking serene and thoughtful as if she had been com- 
 forted by some good friend. 
 
 Mary Bell and I were still and serious all the after- 
 noon. Once or twice I saw her beautiful blue eyes look- 
 ing wistfully over her spelling book, but we knew that 
 it was wrong to whisper, and for the world would not 
 have disobeyed the mistress then. 
 
 At last the classes were all heard. The mistress 
 looked, we thought, sadly around at the little benches, 
 arose, laiil her hand on the high-backed chair, and 
 sunk slowly to her knees. The children stood up, as 
 usual. I looked at Mary Bell ; she was trembling a 
 little ; the color came and went on her face. My heart 
 beat quick, I felt a glow on my cheek, something soft 
 and fervent stirring at my heart. We both rose hand 
 
 iiThand, walked through the scholars up to that high- 
 backed chair, and knelt softly down by the mistress. 
 She gave a little start, opened her eyes, and instantly 
 they filled with tears ; her lips trembled, and then came 
 a burst of thanksgiving to God for having answered 
 her prayer. She laiikher hand first ujion one head, 
 and then upon the other. She called down blessings 
 upon us, she poured forth her whole soul eloquently, as 
 she had done under the hemlock boughs. 
 
 I have heard many prayers since, but never one that 
 entered the depths of my memory like that. 
 
 The next day Mary Bell and I followed the mis- 
 tress down to the mill-stream, for we felt guilty till she 
 knew all. But she persisted that God himself had led 
 us to the bank. No matter though Dan Ilainos ap- 
 peared to have done it. Wicked instruments were of- 
 ten used to work out good. God had answered her 
 prayer, and it was enough. She only hoped we would 
 not be ashamed of having knelt by our lonely school- 
 mistress. 
 
 Ashamed ! For the first time in our lives we threw 
 our arms round Abby Punderson's neck and kissed 
 her. Poor soul ! she hardly knew how to take it; 
 those withered lips had been so long unused to kisses 
 that they began to tremble as ours touched them. We 
 were very young, and could not comprehend why she 
 hid her face between those stiff hands and wept so 
 piteously. 
 
 Troubles of a Tukkish Mcsic Master. — Mrs. 
 Hornsby, who has recently published a work giving 
 her 'Adventures in and around Stamboul,' says that 
 while there she became much interested in a young 
 French lady, who, in giving an account ot the fallen 
 fortunes of her family, also describes a new trouble. 
 Mrs. Hornsby says: — 
 
 'It seems that her younger brother, who is remarka- 
 bly good-looking and showed a great talent for music, 
 was sent to Vienna in their prosperous days for his 
 education. His pianoforte-playing is thought much of 
 here; and being so poor, and the sultan having set the 
 fashion of Turkish ladies learning music, he now gives 
 lessons to the wives and danghlers of several pachas 
 on the Bosphorus. He is married, greatly attached to 
 his wife, and has two pretty children; added ro this, 
 he is a grave, shy young man. Well, Dhudu's trouble 
 for her brother is this: He goes quietly in the morning 
 to give his lesson. Perhaps there are two or three 
 veiled ladies in the room into which he is ushered by 
 the attendants. Sometimes the pacha himself is there, 
 but very seldom; there are always two or three black 
 attendants. 'The lesson begins,' says Dhudu, in a 
 melancholy voice, 'and they are generally rather stupid. 
 The men who guard them soon grow tired of looking 
 on and stroll away to their pipes. They are hardly 
 outside the door, when down goes the yasmak of one 
 of the ladies. She is very pretty, but very tiresome, 
 my brother is afraid to look at her. What should he 
 do if the pacha were suddenly to return, or one of the 
 slaves to enter and report this to him! So he turns 
 his head away and tries to induce her to go on with 
 the lesson. Would you believe it,' says Dhudu, still 
 more indignantly, 'the other day she took hold of his 
 chin, and turned his face to hers, said laughing, 'Why 
 don't you look at me, you pig?' What can my brother 
 dol The pasha would never believe that it is not his 
 fault. Sometimes one of them will creep under his 
 pianoforte, and putting her finger into his shoe, tickle 
 his foot. Yesterday they slipped two peaches in his 
 pocket, tied up in muslin with blue ribbons, clapping 
 their hands and laughing when he found it out. You 
 know what those peaches mean? They mean kisses,' 
 said Dhuilu, coloring, 'and it made ray brother so ner- 
 vous, for the men were in the outer room, and might 
 have heard all about it. He would be sorry to have 
 them punished, yet they mike his life miserable. 
 That pretty one is the worst of all, she is so daring. I 
 visit at the harem, and went with my brother one 
 morning. Knowing them so well, I took him in at 
 the garden entrance, the way I always go myself. 
 We heard somebody laugh a loud, merry laugh, and — 
 
 oh, what a fright I was in — there she was up in a 
 peach tree. My brother turned his head away, and 
 walked on very fast; she pelted peaches at him, then 
 got out of the tree, and would have run after him if I 
 had not stopped her.' And here poor Dhudu fairly 
 cried. 'What can my brother do?' 
 
 LiTEBARY Politeness. — The Parisians are laugh- 
 ing over the last good story from the German Water- 
 ing Places. It appears that the Princess N., who re- 
 sided in a suraptuDUS chateau, near the Baths of Neu- 
 wied, sent a dinner invitation, according to her hospita- 
 ble custom, to the Mitjor P., an officer on service at the 
 garrison near by. The Major chanced to be on duty, 
 and was obliged to decline ; but on sending his excuse 
 by his faithful sergeant, he told him to bring him his 
 dinner as he came back — meaning, of course, that he 
 should go for it to the neighboring restaurant. The 
 subaltern chanced to be very literal in his habit of mind 
 and he delivered the two errands at once, to the ser- 
 vant at the gate of the chateau. 
 
 Very much astonished, at first, that her proposed 
 guest should send for his dinner, the Princess soon en- 
 tered into the joke; and ordering a huge tray to be 
 sumptuously laden from her kitchen, she despatched 
 it by the hands of the sergeant and her own footman. 
 
 Astounded as the magnificence of the 'dinner for 
 one,' the Major summoned up his messenger and soon 
 came to an explanation; but quite too .spirituel to lose 
 the enjoyment of the luxurv, he invited in a couple of 
 brother officers and they made a capital feast. Only, 
 before sitting down, he gave the Serjeant five dollars 
 and instructed him to go to the confectioner and pro- 
 cure a splendid castle of sweatmeets, taking it with his 
 compliments to the princess. 
 
 All dutifully done — but her highness, in considera- 
 a?ion of the subaltern's so well performing his duty, 
 sent him out a dollar, for his perquisite as messenger. 
 
 'Excuse me,' said the literal serjeant, as he looked 
 at the one dollar, and supposed that of course it was to 
 pay for the confectionary he had bought, 'Excuse me, 
 but it cost five! Four dollars more, if you please.' 
 
 The Princess by this time understood the char- 
 acter of the man, and she gravely sent out the other 
 four dollars! 
 
 The major was still at dinner with his feasting 
 brother officers, when the faithful sergeant entered 
 with the military touch to his cap, and laid down 
 the five dollars npon the teble. 
 
 How many of his military buttons the gallant of- 
 ficer burst off, in containing his rage while the re- 
 turn of those five dollars was explained, is not told 
 in this story! 
 
 John Smith. — John Smith is a sort of omnipres- 
 ence. A learned scholar contends for the universality 
 of John Smith's name, not only in our own, but 
 among all lands. Commencing with the Hebrews, 
 he says they had no Christian names, and consequent- 
 ly Johns — in Hebrews, the name stood simply Shemi, 
 or Sliemit. In other nations, however, the John 
 Smith is found full, one and undivided. Juet us traco 
 it: — 
 
 Latin — Johannes Smithius. 
 
 Inlian — Giovanni Smithi. 
 
 Spanish — Juan Smithas. 
 
 Dutch — Hans Smidt. 
 
 French — Jean Smeets. 
 
 Greek — Ion Skmitton. 
 
 Russian — lonloff Schmittowski. 
 
 Polish — Ivan Sehmittiweiskki. 
 
 Chinese— Tohn Tchmmit. 
 
 Icelandic — Tahne Smsttson. 
 
 Welsh — Jiohn Scmidd. 
 
 Tuscarora — Ton-ta Smittia. 
 
 Mexican — Jontli F'Smitlx. 
 
 To prove the antiquity of the name, the same saran 
 observes, that in the temple of Osiris, Egypt, wag 
 found the name of 'Pharaoh Smithosis, being the ^(h 
 in the ISth dynasty of the Theban kings. He wa8 
 the founder of the celebrated temple of Smithopolis 
 
3G6 
 
 IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 LITERATURE. 
 
 Alice Sofhwis: n Tale of tlif Y)ays of Sir Tliomns 
 More. Bv C. J. M. Now York. U. & J. Smllier 
 &. Co. Boslon: William Ulikcy, 128 Fudfral St. 
 Tliis liook, written in that charming, ronmntic style 
 of Jiiincs and Ainsworih, is one of the tinest liiororv 
 gems we have met with for many a day. It is a work 
 of the deepest interest — the action of the story lieing 
 laid m the period of English history so frau;;ht with 
 startling events— the reign of that royal Bluebeard, 
 Henry VIII. In it the reader is made familiar with 
 such mighty minds ns the Chancellor, Sir Thomas 
 More, Fisher, and the Imtchcr's illustrious son, the 
 fonnder of the greatest seat of leiirning the world ever 
 saw— Eton Colhgi— the Cardinal Wolsey. These 
 and many other eminent personages of the period, are 
 brought prominently on the stage of action, and hard, 
 historical facts and details are treated with such a 
 charm as to nnder them as pleasing to the reader as a 
 story of our youth. The gentle Alice Sherwin is a 
 beaiitifully conceived character, and in fact, we do not 
 think there is a single weak portrayal in the book. 
 
 The work is produced in that unexceptionable man- 
 ner which characterizes all the publications of the 
 Messrs. Sadlier, and we would advise all our readers 
 who wish to derive ft substantial benefit, in a literary 
 point of view, to procure a copy immediately. 
 
 Peath Scenks of Distinguished Personages. 
 
 -j-lie last words of Napoleon, after a formal, and it is 
 
 to be hoped, devout compliance with all the rites of 
 the Catholic Church, were— 'Tete d'arnic," proving 
 that the Hitting spirit of the warrior was still hove-ing 
 amidst the scenes of his ancient glory. 
 
 Madame dc Stacl, who had contracted the evil habit 
 of swallowing opium, indulged it to great excess dur- 
 ing her last illness. At intervals of mental conscious- 
 ness she exclaimed — 'My father awaits me on the other 
 shcrc!" A short time before she expired, she said, 'I 
 think I now know the nature of our passage from life 
 to death, and I feel assured that the goodness of God 
 alleviates its pang. Our ideas become confused, and 
 our sufferings not very acute.' 
 
 The famous surgeon, Dupuytrcn, who, during his 
 life had lent a seeming countenance to the prevailing 
 scepticism and infidelity of the times, upon his death- 
 bed testified in these words to the great truths of re- 
 ligion: 'Whatever freethinkers may say. I am resolved 
 to die in the communion of a fuith which I have not 
 always lived up to, but in which I have always placed 
 my conltdcnce.' 
 
 The last moments of Sir 'Walter Scot' are thus de- 
 scribed bv his son-in law; 'Lockhart,' he said, 'I may 
 have but a minute to speak to you; my dear, be a good 
 man. Nothing else will give you any loinfort when 
 you come to lie here." He paused, and I said, '.shall 
 1 send for Sophia and Anne?' 'No,' said he, 'don't 
 disturb them, poor souls! I know they were up all 
 niglit — God bless thorn all ' 
 
 Lord Byron's dying words are reported to have been 
 
 'I'oor Greece! poor town! my poor servants! — Why 
 
 was I not aware of this sooner? My hour is come; I 
 do not care lor death, but why did I not go home be- 
 fore I came hire!' At another moment he said — 
 'There are things which make t"lie world dear to me, 
 for the rest I uin content to die.' He spoke also of 
 Greece, saying, 'I have given her my time, my means, 
 my health, and now I give her my life; what could I 
 do more?' At length, saying, 'I shall now go to 
 sleep,'' he lell into that slumber from which he never 
 awakened. 
 
 Madame Roland, who fell a victim to that very rev- 
 olnlionarv frenzy of which her own writings and advo- 
 cacy bad fanned the flame, inclined herself, on the 
 scaffold, towards the statue of liberty, and exclaimed, 
 'Oh! liberty, what crimes are committed in thy name!' 
 T*e reconciliation effected by that modem Maehia- 
 yel, Talleyrand, on his death-bed, with the Catholic 
 church, partook of the wariness which had distin- 
 guished every action of his life. Protocol after proto- 
 
 col had been exchanged with ecclesiastical authority, 
 before terms of adjustment could be linully arranged; 
 so that the ex-episcopal diplomatc's revived spirit of 
 religion seemid less like the onlinary terror of death- 
 bed repcDtanee, than a calm predeterniiiiaiion to go 
 out of the world respectably enoii||li to entitle himself 
 to Christian'burial. His last moments were character- 
 istic of the man. The attendants were reciting by his 
 bed-side the prayers for the dying, which he appeared 
 too senseless to uudersumd; but ujion invocation being 
 made of Saints Charles and Mauriie, the patron name- 
 sakes of the expiring man, he opened his eyes, a smile 
 of complacency gleamed across his countenance, indi- 
 cative, as it wore, of consciousness and acknowledg- 
 ment, ho quietly breathed his last. 
 
 David Hume died in a quiesceut state of confirmed 
 atheism — of all degrees of spiritual blindness the most 
 fearful. 
 
 The infidel Mirabeau compared himself on his death 
 bed, to Achilles. 'Hold up my head; it is the sound- 
 e^t one in France,' he observed to one of his attend- 
 ants. To a friend that visited him, he exclaimed, 'My 
 friend, I shall die to-day. Nothing now remains but 
 to wrap ourselves in perfumes. You promised to 
 spare me all needless sullciing.' He then elamond 
 icpealedly for opium, and died nnder its iuriuence. 
 
 Of David, the French historical painter, who, during 
 the frenzy of the French revolution, ofliciated as mas- 
 ter of the ceremonies in the revival and arrangement 
 of the Pagan pomps organized to supplant Christiani- 
 ty — the last woids were, in allusion to bis own picture 
 of the Thermopylic, a sketch of which had been plac el 
 before him. 'I alone could have imagined the head of 
 Leonidas.' 
 
 So strongly impressed were habits of business, com- 
 bined viilh a certain happy quainlness of humor, on 
 the mind of the late eminent Chief Justice of the 
 Court of Queen's Bench, that upon his phyiicians 
 taking leave of him, a short time previous to his disso- 
 lution, he said to them, 'Gentlemen, you are dis 
 charged,' the words in ordinary use, addressed by a 
 judge to the jury, upon releasing the latter from their 
 official duties. 
 
 George IV. seems to have experienced, and closely 
 analyzed, as it were, the very nature of the death pang. 
 For it is recorded of his last moments, that, being 
 rather suddenly seized with some violent spasm, he 
 exclaimed, 'Oh, this is death!' and immediately ex- 
 pired. 
 
 Irving, the celebrated Scotch preacher, died recitin"- 
 the Psalms in Hebrew. 
 
 When, staggering beneath the fatal blows of his as- 
 sassins, St Thomas of Canterimry felt the blood trick- 
 ling down his face, he joined his hands and bowed his 
 head, saying, 'In the name of Christ and for the de- 
 fence of his church, I am ready to die." In this pos- 
 ture, turned towards his murderers, without a groan 
 and without a motion, he awaited a second stroke, 
 which threw him on his knees; the third laid him on 
 the floor, at the foot of St. Bennet's altar. The upper 
 part of his skull was broken in pieces, and Hugh ol 
 Horsea, planting his foot on the archbishop's neck, 
 with the point of hfs sword drew out the brains, and 
 strewed them over the pavement. 
 
 Bayard, the mirror of Catholic chivalry, when he 
 received his death-wound, exclaimed, '.Icsus, mon 
 Dieu! je suis mort.' He refused to be removed from 
 the melee, saying that he had no mind at that last 
 hour, to turn his back for the first time upon an ene- 
 my. Feeling his end approach, with instinctive devo- 
 tion, he grasped and embraced the hilt of his sword, in 
 which his fancy recognized the form of a crucifix, and 
 confessed his sins to his esquire at arms. Just before 
 he died, the constable of Bourbon approached, and 
 loudly deplored the impending event, but Bayard ex 
 claimed. It is not I that need compassion, but rather 
 you who are fighting against your king and country.' 
 \\ hen the holy viaticum was brought into the death 
 chamber of St. Theresa, she exclaimed, 'Come, Lord! 
 the hour is then at hand when I am to leave this abode 
 of exile — the moment of my deUverancc is near.' 
 She expired, reciting many times over the Fgalm 
 
 'Miserere,' and repeatedly dwelling on the verse — 'A 
 contrite and humble heart, O Lord, thou wilt not de- 
 spise.' — The Metropolitan. 
 
 MISCELLANEA. 
 
 A chaplain at a State Prison ^vns asked by a friend 
 how his parishoiiers were. ' All under ' conviction ' ' 
 was the reply. 
 
 A sailor, looking serious in a chapel, was asked 
 by the minister if he felt any change. ' Not a cent,' 
 said Jack. 
 
 'When ^yas Rome built ':' inquired a ' compcta- 
 tivc ' examiner. ' In the night, sir.' ' In the night, 
 how do you make that out r' ' Why, sir, you know 
 Rome wasn't built in a day.' 
 
 Sheridan said beautifully, ' Women govern us ; 
 let us render them perfect ; the more they are en- 
 lightened, so much the more shall we be. Oji the 
 cultivation of their minds depends the wisdom of 
 men.' 
 
 An old Dutch tavern keeper at the lower end of 
 the ' borough,' had his third wife, and being asked 
 for bis views of matrimony, replied : — 
 
 '\'ell den, you see, de first time I marries for love 
 — dat wash goot; den I marries for peauty — dat wash 
 goot, too ; about as goot as dc first ; but dis time I 
 marries for monish — and dis is petter as poth ! ' 
 Old Cooney took a practical view of things. 
 
 ' Father, what docs a printer live on •' 
 
 'Live on r — like other folks. Why do you ask ?' 
 
 ' Because you said you hadn't paid anything for 
 your paper, and the printer still sends it to you.' 
 
 ' Wife, spauk that boy.' 
 
 ' I shan't do it.' 
 
 ' ^\'hy not ?' 
 
 ' Because there is no reason.' 
 
 ' No reason ! — yes there is ; spank him I tell you.' 
 
 ' I won't do any such thing.' 
 
 ' He's too smart.' 
 
 ' That comes of marrying me.' 
 
 ' How so ? What do you mean r' 
 
 ' I mean just this, the boy is smarter than his 
 father, and you can't deny it.' 
 
 ' That's queer talk, and I wish — ' 
 
 ' I don't care what you wish ; the boy knows 
 enough to see that a man, printer or no printer, 
 can't live on nothing ; I should think you would be 
 ashamed to cheat the poor printer.' 
 
 And then bang goes the door, and out goes the 
 father and husband, grumbling like a bear with a 
 sore head. 
 
 ^^ 
 
 ADVERTISEMENTS. 
 
 WILLIAM K. O'BRIEN, 
 
 77 THIRD AVENUE, KEW YORK. 
 
 — Manufacturer of.— 
 
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IRISH MISCELLANY". 
 
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 in readiness to supply all orders with which he may be fa- 
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mUE L©¥E ^Ml I^l'SI^ "^fmMiTT. 
 
 Sclectci) txftssk for % |ri$| |B'i$ccItamj. 
 
 -^;^oi^3DS B^ r xj i^ I. o :]sr o- 
 
 nSwdiXJSIC B"Y LOAT^EI^ 
 
 11 TenderlTi but not too SIow.^ ^ 
 
 1. "True lovo can ne'er for- get, 
 
 2. " Long years are past and o'er 
 
 l^^EEEf^ELE 
 
 Col 
 
 Fond - ly as wh 
 Since, from tbis fa 
 
 we mot; Dear - est, I love thee yet, 
 t\\ shore. Cold hearts and cold winds bore 
 
 jfv dar - ling one !" Thus sang a rain - strel gay Km sv 
 
 
 My love from me." 
 
 <ray Ills sweet, im - pas - sinned lay, Down by the 
 Scarce -"ly" the min - strel s^ke. When, quick, with flash - iug stroke, A boat's light 
 
 'iiiki_=i33!li^ 
 
 ^t 
 
 =ci 
 
 3: 
 
 T" P. _:„ .f .„„ -Rnf wWl, . prp^ wns the min-strel's sisht : Morn to him was dark as night ; 
 
 ocean's spray. At rise of sun 
 oar the silence broke - ver the sea. 
 
 But with - ered was the min-strel's sight ; Morn 
 Soon, up - on her na - - tive strand, Doth 
 
 to him was dark 
 love - ly la 
 
 as night ; 
 dy land ; 
 
 ii?_3 
 
 «:r3: 
 
 
 
 EEEi* 
 
 V--iX 
 
 3^ 
 
 
 Yet his heart was full of light, As he this lay be - gun : " True 
 
 While the min - strel's love-taught hand Did o'er his sweet harp run, " Irue 
 
 love 
 love 
 
 can ne'er for - get, 
 can ne'er for - get, 
 
 
 ^^^^ 
 
 ee::3 
 
 
 !eS^ 
 
 
 w^m. 
 
 one. 
 one.' 
 
 Where the minstrel sat alone, 
 There that lady fair hath gone ; 
 Within his hand .she placed her own : 
 The bard dropped on his knee ; 
 From his lip soft blessings came ; 
 He kissed her hand, with tmest flame; 
 In trembling tones lio nrimed her name. 
 Though her he could not see. 
 
 But, ! the touch, the bard could tell. 
 Of that dear hand, remembered well. 
 Ah ! by many a secret spell. 
 
 Can true love trace his own ! 
 For true love can ne'er forget, 
 Fondly as when they met ; 
 He loved his lady yet, 
 
 His darling one. 
 
 Founded on the fact rola.od of Carolar,, the Irish bard, that, afu,r hi» loM of sight, and th. lapM of t«nty ycarf, l.o rocop.lKa hi- flnt low by tho touch of h« hand. 
 
 
VOLUME I— NUMBER 24. ] 
 
 BOSTON, SATURDAY, JUlY 24, 1858. 
 
 [ PRICE FOUR CENTS. 
 
 FRANCISCAN ABBEY, ADAIR. 
 
 The ancient town of Adair, or as some antiqua- 
 rians write it, Adare, in the barony of Coshma, and 
 county of Limerick, is about one hundred and ten 
 miles from the city ol Dublin, and nine from Lim- 
 erick. There is not, perhaps, in the whole province 
 of Munster so beautifully situated a village as Adair. 
 Its lonely and unfrequented shades, and the vener- 
 able and magnificent ruins of its castle, and once 
 splendid religious edifices, raise in the mind of the 
 occasional visitor sensations and emotions the most 
 
 sublime and delightful. From ancient records we 
 find its name written Athdare or Ath-daar, which 
 signifies the ' Ford of Oaks ;' and it must have heen 
 formerly a place of great beauty, consequence, and 
 strength. It contains three large religious estab- 
 lishments ; and above we present our readers with 
 a view of the Poor Abbey, as it was called, being a 
 foundation of Friars ilinors, of the strict order of 
 St. Francis. The remains of this abbey are elegant- 
 ly picturesque ; its mouldering walls being covered 
 with a mantle of ivy. It was a very extensive build- 
 
 ing, in the old Gothic style of architecture. It ia 
 said to have been founded in the reign of the first 
 Edward, by John, earl of Kildare, having attached 
 to it a large tract of ground on the north side of the 
 river. On the south side an Augustinian abbey 
 was founded, known by the name of the black ab- 
 bey, of which there still exist some very beautiful 
 and romantic remains in good preservation. But 
 what appears to have been the most important es- 
 tablishment was the white abbey, or the house of 
 the Holy Trinity, instituted for the redemption of 
 
 RUINS OF THE ^1{.A^CISCAN ABBE\, AD. 
 captives, and founded by an earl of Kildare about ' find that in 1610, the rectory of A.shdare belonged 
 the year 1271, to which was attached very large i to the nunneries of the white abbey, 
 possessions, which were granted with all their ap- The Rectory of Adair is at present in tlie posses- 
 purtenances and other premises, on the fourth of sion of the Croker family — the vicarage only belongs 
 November, in the 37th of Queen Elizabeth, to Sir j to the church. 'I'he Quin family (Earls Dunraven) 
 H. Wallop, Knight. The entrance to this abbey | are the Lords of tlie soil ; and it has two fairs, which 
 was by a low gate on the west side, which is yet ( arc held in Mar* and October. 
 
 partly standing, and with the other ruins of this .-....>-». 
 
 very large edifice, present a gloomy yet fanciful pic- That mind which will not be contented with its cou- 
 ture to the eye of the spectator. What, perhaps, is ] dition, i.-: its own tormentor. Persons are miserable, 
 a curious circumstance in ecclesiastical historj', we | only because tlioy are not in tlio place where they 
 
 want to be; are not employed in the things they 
 would gladly be busied in; or do not enjoy what they 
 desire. But do you continue with pleasure wherever 
 you are obliged to be. Perform, without repining, nil 
 that it may be requisite for you to do; be satisfied 
 with whatever you possess, and you will then be as 
 '"'PPy> "<" '0 say happier, than those who command 
 over, and exceed you in wealth and power. 
 
 Why is love like a canal boat? 
 internal transport. 
 
 Because it is in an 
 
370 
 
 IKlon itii&ijELLANY. 
 
 BONNIE JEAN. 
 
 Tuniv- 'The Boniiii> Law of KnllDKlimyle.' 
 
 TouSv raen upon the budding thorn, 
 
 And on thv flower thnt (helters urnr, 
 
 The deir-<lrop, sweetest ohild of mom. 
 
 Like orystui, trenibliuj^ pure aud olenr; — 
 Oh! then you liavereen inj- lassie dear. 
 On Kraid's romantic bauki* so green ; 
 Iilke jou brijihtstar amid the sphere, 
 Appears tlie glauce of bonuie Jean. 
 
 iilie's sweeter than tlieiulant rose: — 
 
 She's fair«r tlian tlie muuntaiu snow; — 
 And milder than the breeze lliat blows, 
 
 When opening Dowers tlicir beauties slow ; 
 To look upon her iovely brow. 
 
 Where care nor sorrow ere hatli been ; 
 Vou'll feel like mo, your bosom glow, 
 
 With unfeigned love for bounie .lean. 
 
 i have wandered in the winding vale, 
 
 As day light sunk behind the liill ; 
 And listened to the linnet's tale, 
 
 Koraptured by the rippling rill; 
 And drank at fancy's dream at will, 
 
 When all wassilent and serene; 
 "i'et ne'er have had such joys ns till 
 
 My heart, at sight of blue eyed Jean. 
 
 Whene'er the lark at early dawn, 
 
 Enraptured hails reluming day, 
 You'll llnd her wandering o'er the lawn. 
 
 Enamored with his cheerful lay ;— 
 With such a maid to pass away 
 
 Life's tedious toilsand Joys unseen, 
 In virtue's paths I still would stray, 
 
 Bless'd with my bonuie blue eyed Jean. 
 
 Had I the hills and vales of Braid, 
 
 From Sleroish round to Tullymore; 
 And the flocks that there have strayed 
 
 Since the Halckrock began to roar; 
 I'd think of other maids no more. 
 
 With her still happy I'd be seen. 
 For in my bosom's inward core. 
 
 Dwells Ballymena's bonnieJean. 
 
 VALOR AND CONSTANCY. 
 
 TJp-wards of twenty years since, when the British 
 arms were actively engaged in a foreign country, 
 there lived in the north of Ireland a poor farmer, 
 called Walter O'Brien, who possessed a neat cot- 
 tage and a few acres of land, on "ivhich he daily la- 
 bored for the support of his family. O'Brien had, 
 in his early days, felt the strokes of adversity ; for, 
 being bequciithed a considerable property from a 
 distant relative, after having enjoyed it some years, 
 he was engaged in a law-suit, which, although it 
 terminated in his favor, so drained his purse, that 
 he was obliged to di.spose of the greater part of his 
 land, and retire to the humble cottage in which we 
 now find him — carrying with him a wife, his only 
 child, Alick, a boy of si.\ years old, and Mary M' Car- 
 ter, the orphan child of a neighboring farmer, whom, 
 deprived of both parents in extreme youth, he had 
 adopted in his prosperity, and now treated always 
 as his own. His wife did not long survive her change 
 of fortune ; she died a .short time after their removal 
 to the cottage, after giving birth to an infant boy. 
 At the period in which our narrative commences, 
 Alick was a fine manly lad of nineteen — Mary a 
 most beautiful and interesting creature, two years 
 younger — and little Willie had just completed his 
 tenth year. 
 
 It was about the middle of June, and Alick had 
 gone to a distant fair to dispose of some cattle ; he 
 had been absent for three days, which was much 
 longer than his wonted time, and wasan.\iously ex- 
 pected by the inmates of the cottage. Mary had 
 paced the garden all day, straining her eyes along 
 the road, and was now returning in despair to the 
 house, when she saw Alick's favorite little dog run- 
 ning down the hill, followed by his master. She ran 
 joyfully to tlie gate, and after welcoming her dear 
 brother, (as she always called him,) chided him 
 for his unusual delay. It is almost unnecessary to 
 observe, thai a strong attachment subsisted between 
 
 this Youtliful pair. 'WTien children, Mary 'waa al- 
 ways Alick's little wife, and they now looked for- 
 ward to the eonsununation of tlitir hupiiiness. But 
 Alick had of late began to feel the diHieulties of his 
 situation. His father's farm was very small ; and 
 he could neither bear the idea of being a burden to 
 him, or of marrying hi8 beloved Mary, without a' 
 home to take her to. The lovers entered the cot- 
 tage together, and Alick was warmly received by 
 the old man, who was just returned from his daily 
 labor, attended by little 'Willie. 
 
 After he had taken some refreshment, his father 
 questioned him about his success at the fair, and 
 the cause of his delay. He briefly told his story ; 
 the fair was badly attended, and he had found great 
 difficulty in disposing of his cattle. 
 
 ' But I am going to leave you, father,' said he, his 
 eyes filling with tears. ' I am going into the service 
 of my country ; and maybe it may be God's will 
 that I should come home, with some means of sup- 
 porting you in yotir old age.' 
 
 ' And where are you going, my OTvn boy r' said 
 Walter. ' Sure you would not leave your poor old 
 father and little Mary, whom you are to marry so 
 soon ' 
 
 • Father, I am listed,' said Alick. ' I could not 
 bear to be any longer a burden to you ; you are 
 yourself more than sufficient to labor the little land 
 ■we have left ; and here is Willie, old enough to take 
 my place. As for Mary, how can I ask her to mar- 
 ry me, till I have some way to support her ? Sure, 
 you -would not have me to rear up a family to de- 
 vour my poor father's substance ? The sergeant 
 tells me, if I conduct myself well, -when the regiment 
 comes home, I will get a pension for life ; but, father 
 he told me more than this — he said it was a shame 
 to see a stout boy, like me, staying idle at home, 
 ■while my eountrj'men ■vvcre fighting so many bloody 
 battles. He said, I owed it to my country to go ; 
 and, dear father, with God's blessing, and your's I 
 ■will pay the. debt Mr. Elliot was at the fair, and 
 pledged himself I would be with the sergeant before 
 night to-morrow.' 
 
 The old man tenderly embraced his son, and sob- 
 bing over him, exclaimed : — 
 
 ' My child ! my child ! — it is now done — you are 
 pledged, and must go. We ■will miss you sorely ; 
 but, perhaps, it may please the Lord to bring you 
 home safe, to close the eyes of your poor old father. 
 But remember, Alick, you are an Irishman ; and, 
 although it would be a sore blow to me if any eril 
 happened to you. I would rather hear of you dy- 
 ing in battle, in the service of your country, than 
 see you return laden with gold, after turning your 
 back on that country's foes.' 
 
 ' With God's blessing,' said Alick, ' I shall never 
 disgrace my country ; and if it be his will that 1 
 should fall, I shall, at least, die in my duty.' 
 
 ' Oh ! no ! no !' exclaimed Mary, who during the 
 conversation, sat, pale and motionless, in a corner 
 of the room. ' Oh, no ! dear Alick, you must not 
 go-' 
 
 ' Dearest Mary, do not thus distress me,' said 
 Alick. My duty calls me for a short time, and I 
 shall soon return to claim my wife.' 
 
 Poor Mary sobbed bitterly, and quitted the apart- 
 ment. Alick joined his father in making some ar- 
 rangements previous to his departure, and then went 
 I in quest of Slary. He found her in the garden, sit- 
 I ting on a rustic scat, in which they had often learn- 
 cd their tasks together in happier days. He explain- 
 ed to her the necessity for his departure ; and after 
 exchanging mutual pledges of inviolable constancy, 
 I they returned to the cottage, and ek(^ retired to 
 j rest. 
 
 I At an early hour, the following morning' they all 
 I sat down to a meal, which each partook of in silence. 
 It was now time for Alick's departure ; and ha^-ing i 
 I packed his little bundle on his back, and taken an I 
 I affectionate leave of the disconsolate Mary, and his | 
 
 little brother, he get out, accompanied by hia father, 
 who InBistcd on walking ■with him to the town 
 of , whore he joined the other recruits. 
 
 The poor man returned in the evening, bringing 
 
 with liim, Mr. Elliot, land-steward of Lord , 
 
 from whom Walter rented his little farm. Elliot 
 had been always an occasional visitor at the cottage, 
 and a great admirer- of Mary, by whom he was 
 greatly disliked. He was of a haughty, imperious 
 disposition ; but, being the person who collected 
 the rents on that portion of his master's cstatCB, he 
 exacted great respect from the poor cottagers. 
 
 ' And so your brother is gone to the wars, Mary,' 
 said he, as he entered the cottage. ' And when do 
 you think he will return ?' 
 
 ' You ought to know that better than me, sir,' 
 was the reply. 
 
 'Why, I see no chance of an end to this ■nar,' 
 said Elliot ; ' and I think he cannot come back be- 
 fore twenty years, or so.' (Mary sighed.) But I 
 suppose you will soon be getting married now. Miss 
 Mary,' said her tormentor. 
 
 ' By your own account there is but little pros- 
 pect of that," replied Mary, ' for twenty years, oi 
 so.' 
 
 ' I said, Alick would not come home for that 
 time ; but surely you do not intend waiting lor him 
 to be present at your nuptials ?' 
 
 ' She and Alick are engaged to be married to 
 each other for many years,' said the old man, inter- 
 rupting him ; ' and I trust he may be spared for her 
 sake, as well as mine, as if anything hapjjened him 
 it would break her heart.' 
 
 Elliot professed total ignorance, although he well 
 knew of the attachment subsisting between them ; 
 and having long determined on making Mary his 
 own wife, he had meditated some plan of getting 
 rid of his rival. At length he formed one. Know- 
 ing that Alick was gone to the fair, he also repaired 
 thither, and persuaded the recruiting sergeant to use 
 every art to engage Alick in his service. We have 
 already seen how he succeeded ; and the very day 
 his first victim was embarked for a foreign land, he 
 began to practise his ivilcs on the lonely and unlor- 
 tunate Mary. 
 
 Several weeks had now passed, and the inmates 
 of the cottage by degrees became more reconciled to 
 their loss. Willie was able to assist his father in 
 cultivating the farm, and attended the neighboring 
 markets. But months rolled on, and they now be- 
 gan to be uneasy at not hearing from Alick, w hen 
 one evening Elliot entered the cottage, apparently in 
 deep alHiction. 
 
 ' Oh ! my friends,' said he, •! am sorry to be the 
 bearer of such sad news.' 
 
 ' He is killed ! he is killed !' exclaimed Mary, and 
 sunk lifeless on the floor. 
 
 Elliot assisted Willie in restoring the unfortunate 
 girl, and then resumed his seat beside her father. 
 
 ' Oh ! tell me true,' said the poor man, ' is my 
 Alick dead ?' 
 
 'Alas! it is but too true," said Elliot. 'I had, 
 this morning, a letter from a servant of my master, 
 and he mentioned that he had teen killed in the first 
 battle he was engaged in.' 
 
 ' Oh ! my darling boy,' sobbed the poor old man, 
 and he ■wrung his hands in an agony of grief. 
 
 Mary was carried to bed, and remained in a state 
 of insensibility. In the morning, Elliot brought a 
 medical person to see her, and she was pronounced 
 in a high fever. 
 
 Poor Walter suppressed his own grief, and gave 
 all his attention to the unhappy girl, who, after 
 lingering in a dangerous state for upwards of three 
 months, began gradually to recover. But more 
 misery was yet in store for them. She was scarcely 
 able to walk a little in the garden, when Willie, who 
 had been unremitting in his care of her, was seized 
 with the fever, and died after a few weeks' illness. 
 Walter was now reduced to the lowest ebb of grief 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 371 
 
 niul despair ; he had to lament his two darling boys, 
 and had no prospect of any moans of support for the 
 future. lie felt his own days were nearly ended ; 
 but lie could not bear the idea of leaving Mary in 
 the wretched condition from which he had formerly 
 rescued her. Elliot was most assiduous in his kind- 
 nesses. He not only never called for the rent — all 
 of which Walter had spent in providing comforts 
 for Mary, during her illness — but advanced a large 
 sura of money to stock the farm, which had fallen 
 to decay since Willie's death. By this artful con- 
 duct, he not only entrapped his victims into a be- 
 lief of his sincerity, but got them completely into 
 his power. He now began to importune Jlary about 
 consenting to their union ; but she determined, as 
 long as she could make any effort for her father's 
 support, she would never marry a man she could 
 not love. 
 
 Mary had received a good education, and she 
 now determined to turn it to some account. She 
 ■went round the neighboring farmers, and persuaded 
 many of them to send their children to her for a few 
 hours every day, offering to teach for a small re- 
 muneration. The old man was now become infirm 
 and being unable to work his farm, gave it up, ex- 
 cept the small plot of ground before the door of the 
 cottage. They were supported for a year by the 
 products of Mary's little school, when a violent 
 fever broke out among the children. They were 
 all taken from her, and once more were these un- 
 fortunate people reduced to the brink of despair. 
 
 Elliot had been absent in a distant part of the 
 country for some time, and, on his return, found 
 affairs just in the situation suitable to his purposes. 
 He called at the cottage — obtained an interview — 
 represented the ruined state of her father's affairs — 
 the ardor of his own passion — and finally mention- 
 ed the sum he had advanced during her illness, of 
 ■which she had never been told previously. He told 
 her he could immediately turn them both out at a 
 minute's notice, to beg upon the highway. Mary 
 entreated him to leave them unmolested for one 
 week, and promised, at the expiration of that time, 
 to consent, if she could devise no other means of 
 relief. He consented, and the unfortunate girl, now 
 left to herself, began to ponder on the difficulties of 
 her situation. She must marry a man she detested, 
 or, by her means, her poor old father would be 
 turned out of his own house, without a morsel to 
 eat, or a roof to shelter him. It would unquestion- 
 ably kill him, and she ■ivould be the murderess of 
 that more than parent, who had saved her from that 
 very fate which she would bring on him. No, no ; 
 it must not be. She ■went straightway to her father, 
 and signified to him her having consented to marry 
 Elliot that day week. 
 
 Five days had now passed in sad expectations of 
 the coming event ; and on the evening of the sixth 
 day, as Mary was reading aloud to her father, by 
 the fire, a gentle tap was heard at the door. Mary 
 ran, and opened it, thinking it was her destined 
 husband, but started back in affright, ■vvhen she 
 saw a tall, thin, ghostly-looking figure standing be- 
 fore her. 
 
 ' Marj- !— dearest Mary !— don't you know your 
 own Alick ?' exclaimed the stranger. 
 
 She -would never have known his face, but his 
 ■well-known voice struck her like magic. In a mo- 
 ment they were in each other's arms. 
 
 ' My Alick !— my de^r, dear, long-lost Alick !— 
 and is it you, alive and well ?' exclaimed Mar)-. 
 ' But you are weak. Come, and see our father, 
 and take some rest. Father, here is AUck, come 
 back, as he promised, to be a comfort to you in your 
 old days.' 
 
 ' -\nd are you my Alick ?' said the old man. ' No, 
 no ! you are not like my handsome, blooming boy ; 
 but I suppose you too have met afHictiorxS. If you 
 are really my own boy, come to my arms, for I am 
 too weak to rise.' 
 
 Alick approached, and was pressed fondly to his 
 father's breast. 
 
 ' Yes» yes ; you are indeed my son — I know you 
 now. But why did they tell us you were dead, and 
 why did you never write to us, my own boy ?' 
 
 ' jVnd who told you I was dead ?' exclaimed Alick. 
 ' Did I not write to you constantly, and did not you 
 Mary, get a letter from me last month, telling you I 
 was coming home ?' 
 
 ' AVe never got one letter since you left us, Alick,' 
 said Mary ; ' and about a year after you set out, 
 Mr. Elliot told us he heard from a servant of my 
 lord's that you were killed.' 
 
 ' Then he must be a villain,' said Alick. ' I sent 
 
 all my letters along wtih Lord 's despatches, 
 
 enclosed to him, and he must have kept them. But, 
 by heaven, he shall atone for this if he has deceived 
 me.' 
 
 ' You little know,' said his father, ' at what a mer- 
 ciful time you have come to us ; but you are wearied, 
 and must take some refreshm.ent, and go to rest, and 
 I shall tell you all to-morrow. But, gracious Provi- 
 dence ! have you lost your arm. Alick ?' 
 
 ' I have father, but it was lost in a good cause, 
 and I can make good use of my left ; but, I pray 
 you, tell me this mysterious story now ?' 
 
 'Mary,' said the old man, 'will tell it you, for I 
 am very weak.' 
 
 Mary related their whole history from the time of 
 his departure, with all of which our readers are al- 
 ready acquainted. When she related the manner in 
 whice Elliot had extorted her consent to their union, 
 his face was distorted with rage, and he uttered many 
 solemn threats of vengeance. After taking some 
 food, Alick retired to rest, and on the following 
 morning he told his story to his father and sister ; 
 but as it was related with that true modesty which 
 characterises real valor, we shall briefly tell it for 
 him, with more impartiality. 
 
 When he joined his regiment, he was rejoiced to 
 find it composed almost entirely of Irish, and com- 
 manded by Lord , his father's landlord. Soon 
 
 afterwards, the brigade of which his regiment formed 
 a part, was ordered to join a division of the army 
 
 which lay encamped near . During the march 
 
 they were engaged in frequent skirmishes with the 
 enemy, and even then Alick gave proof of that cour- 
 age for which he was ever after distinguislied. Not to 
 tresspass on the patience of our readers, suffice it to 
 say that for a period of two years he distinguished 
 himself in several engagements, and was at length 
 wounded and taken prisoner, with several of his com- 
 rades. In about three months he was liberated in an 
 exchange of prisoners, and on rejoining his j-cgiment 
 was made Serjeant of the regiment to which he former- 
 ly belonged. A short time alter the regiment was de- 
 tached, with some others, to escort provisions, and on 
 passing through a narrow defile, were suddenly at- 
 tacked by a strong force of the enemy, whicfi lay in 
 wait for them. The commander formed his little band 
 as well as the emergency would admit of, but Alick's 
 regiment being in front, were almost cut to pieces; he 
 himself fought with heroic courage; when, seeing the 
 color of his legiment in the hands of the enemy, he 
 determined to rescue it or perish. He turned round 
 to the soldiers near him, and pointed to the color; it 
 was enough; in a moment he was followed by a body 
 of heroes into the thickest of the enemy— he pressed 
 forward, making devastation wherever he went — struck 
 to the ground the person who was hearing off the prize, 
 and sci-/.iiig it in his right hand, waved it over tlie 
 heads of his comrades; the next moment a ball struck 
 his arm, and it fell powerless by his side — he seized the 
 color in the other, and still encouraging his men to a 
 second charge, he fell to the ground from loss of blood. 
 A reinforcement now came up, the enemy were re- 
 pulsed, and Alick was carried off the field, still grasp- 
 ing the rescued ensign; he was obliged to suffer ampu- 
 tation, and was confined to hospiud for several months. 
 On his recovery ho was presented with a large sum of 
 money as a present recompense for his wounds and 
 
 services, and promised, on his landing in England, 
 comfortable pension for life. He repaired immediate- 
 ly to the sea-coast, and there found Lord , his 
 
 former commander, wailing for a ship to embark for 
 England; he had not seen Alick since his last glorious 
 achievement, and he now paid him a very handsome 
 compliment on his bravery, and promised, when they 
 arrived in England, to procure him a pension trom 
 government without obliging him to present his own 
 memorial. 
 
 Once landed on his nritive shore, Alick lost no time 
 in hurrying to his homo, anxious to find if the only 
 ties which still bound him to earth were in existence. 
 Vi e are already acquainted with the sequel. 
 
 Alick had scarcely finished his story, when a little 
 boy came running in to say that a gentleman had fallen 
 from his horse and was killed on the road. Alick ran 
 out, and saw a man apparently lifeless, lying at the 
 foot of a precipice which bounded the road; he imme- 
 diately descended, and with the assistance of the boy, 
 raised the unfortunate man from the ground and car- 
 ried him to the house; they placed him on a bed, and 
 Mary assisted her brother in washing the blood from 
 his face; when this was done, he showed some signs of 
 life, when Mary immediately exclaimed, 'Good God! 
 it is Elliot!' 
 
 It truly was this unhappy man, who on riding to 
 claim her promise met this unhappy fate. Fear of 
 death struck him with remorse, and he now made a con- 
 fession of his crimes. He had written a letter to Alick 
 immediately before the false account of his death, stat- 
 ing that he and Mary were married, in hopes of driv- 
 ing him to some rash act (but this letter had never 
 reached its destination, J and he acknowledged that he 
 had detained all Alick's letters. 
 
 'Mary, you forgive mC?' faltered the dying man. 
 
 'I do,' said Mary, 'and may God also forgive you.' 
 Ere she had finished the sentence hfe had fled. 
 
 We must now come to a conclusion. Lord 
 
 visited his estates in a few days, and calling at the cot- 
 tage, informed Alick he had procured him a comforta- 
 ble pension. Learning the fate and villainy of his 
 steward, he conferred the situation on Alick, and was 
 himself present at his nuptials, which were celebrated 
 in the village church a few days after his arrival. 
 
 Alick and Mary would never consent to leave the 
 cottage, but built an addition to it, and made it more 
 comfortable. The old man survived his happiness for 
 some years and died of a good old age, after witness- 
 ing the birth of two grandchildren. 
 
 POPULAR LEGENDS OF THE SOUTH. 
 
 No IV. 
 
 The Headless Horseman.of Shanacloch. 
 It was one of those wild nights which frequently 
 visit us in the month of December, when the floodgat( s 
 of heaven pour their torrents, tlie winds rush angrily 
 through the heavens, and the lightnings glance along 
 the air, that a social and happy circle formi d round 
 the hospitable hearth of Tom Cahil, of Shanacloch. 
 Though the rafters cracked in the weight of the savage 
 wind, and the lofty ash trees, that rose amid the ruins 
 of the adjacent castle, groaned to the elemental war, 
 and the echoes of the neighboring cliffs bore to our 
 ear the hollow roaring of the foaming Bride, yet hap- 
 py in the contemplation of our exemption from the 
 storm, and enlivened by the much-loved strains of Jack 
 Piggot, the purlilind piper, we turned a deaf ear to 
 nature's present fit of ill-humor. Th; servant, domes- 
 tic and outward, were footing it lightly to the music of 
 the pi])es in the kitchen. Jack, seated in the broad 
 chimney-corner, had already gulphcd down five good 
 tumblers of punch, made in the parlor I)y Mrs. Ca- 
 hill's own hand. Tom, maugre his aldcrman-likc ro- 
 tundity of belly, was jigging it among the youngsters. 
 The stacks were well secured, the barns rcjileni^hed, 
 the snug mansion afforded a bed for a friend, and a 
 keg of whiskey, poteen, or parliament, as the case may 
 
 l)g lie rent was paid, and the house well thatched — 
 
 in short we may say, with Burns, 
 
372 
 
 HUSH MISCELLANY. 
 
 Pcthiip8 ilio (jcnile render would <jranl mc a mo- 
 ment's indiilgciK-o, wiiilo I iiitnidiico Shiinnlorh to his 
 notice. Tom Ciiliill's smi;; residence is ^ittmtcd on tlie 
 bank of ilio vrinding rirer Briile, between Riitlicormno 
 mill Olenville. Tlic farm tiikes its niimc from ibe 
 
 their blond, like ditch wsther for the bnd bird that bo- 1 
 fouled Iiis own neat, The greiil guns were pluiitcd 
 ngninst the castle over-right us there at Bushy-park, 
 and they ronrcd night and day; but though the ballets 
 buttered the. w.ills, and did a power of daniagc, the 
 hoys at Slian.u-loeh ped thiin oft" in llieir own ci.in. 
 So, my dear, one dark night thev stole upon the castle, 
 ruins of an ol.l castle which defended the possessions ] ^^i„g aetnrmined by all nceounVi to wke the Barrys 
 of the Barrys in this .luarliT. This mined castle, like | „£ „„ „,„,,|„sh, but they peppered ihcm with bullets 
 almost all others, in Ireland, has many tales of super- i fr„,„ the port-holes; and whin the inen.v drew off, they 
 stiliou connected with it. I: was a strong, square r„||o„.ed thim down the bi- field, to the Bride, and. 
 
 building, and its brave garrison made a noble defence, 
 till at length it was taken by treachery, and its defend- 
 ers murdered in cold blood. The extraordinary 
 breiulth of the massive walls has enabled ihe edifice to 
 partially resist the assaults of time, who has, nt Icngih 
 fiung a green mantle of sheltering ivy over the ruin, as 
 if anxious to preserve it from the storm of .iges. But 
 the hand of man has (flTccted wide dilapidations— the 
 instniments of war have levellid its fiont to the dusi; 
 and I am .sorry to recoid that the V.tndalism of my 
 friend, Tom Cahill, has been busy with the rest, a sac- 
 rilege which will not lie forgiven by me, eiilier in this 
 world or in the world to come. 
 
 At Sh inacloch, the duties of that loveliest of virlues 
 — hospitality, arc wril observed. To its well-known 
 mansion, the homeless wanderer turns his weary feet, 
 certain of receiving food and shelter; the house never 
 lacked a train of strollers; but nnscli and Piggot, the 
 piper, were the most frequent and welcome visitors. 
 By .some strange coinciiicnee, wc generally came to 
 Shanacloch at the same time, and it was a remark, 
 that when your humble servant gave the 'God sav<i all 
 here,' blind Piggot was not far behind. Piggot's fea- 
 tures were cast in nature's coarsest mould' hut when 
 he tuned bis pipes to one of his Irish airs, the express- 
 ion of benevolence and calm delight on his misliapcn 
 face was truly interesting. Jack's music, indeed, had 
 a powerful cflTect npon those who heaid his strain. My 
 heart has throbbed, and my eyes swam in tears, as he 
 poured the full tide of the billowy air, Cosh-na-brecda, 
 on my raptured ear; and when he struck up one of the 
 martial tunes by which the minstrel of the olden day 
 roused the clansmen to war and glorj'. I have seen 
 the rude peasants who hnng upon the strain, start for- 
 ward with a wild shout, and flourish their sticks in the 
 air. My chief motive for these frequent visits was to 
 her Piggot's matchless music, and glean lengendary 
 lore from Biddy Moylan, an ancient retainer of the 
 Shanacloch family. 
 
 'God bless us,' said Biddy Moylan, from her straw- 
 bottomed chair in the corner, 'what a dreadful hour it 
 is at sae! This wild hour will lave many fatherless 
 childher afther it. Jack I'iggot, dhrop that music, and 
 let us all pray for the sowls of the poor sailors that are 
 this blessed minute sinking under the waves, to made 
 food for fishes.' 
 
 'Don't you know, Biddy,' says .lark, laying his 
 chan'er horizontally across his knees, 'that music often 
 calmed a storm; and that whin the wicked one had 
 Paddy Barret in the houk of the devil's cave, when 
 be played up the 'Graces,' instead of the wicked thune 
 the company axed for, their spells were broken, and 
 poor Paddy set at liberty.' 
 
 'Enough is good as a faist,' rejoined the old woman, 
 'and too much of wan thing is good for nothing. It 
 was coshering and dancing they war, when Jlarcach- 
 na-Shanacloch gave his last visit; the music drowned 
 his voice, and honest people lost their good luck.' 
 
 As I was a great favorite of old Bridget's, upon ex- 
 pressing a wish to hear the 'Legend of the Horseman,' 
 she kindly complied. The dancing ceased, and the 
 pipes were bagged. After Birldy Moylan had struck 
 the ashes from her dudeen, and Jack Piggot called out 
 'Tention,' she thus began: — 
 
 'Long and merry ago, when Shemish-a-cocca, that 
 lost ould Ireland, bad 'cess to him, was fighting it with 
 some Orangeman, or other, that kcm from England, 
 
 mavrone, the battle-axes of the Barry's used to strike 
 oll'hcails and arms like tops o' thistles, and they pur- 
 sued tlicm into tlm river, and the Bride, that this 
 blessed night is so muddy an dark, was thin red with 
 blood. .Soon after the English captain hoist his sails, 
 and off with him, horso an foot, with a flay in his ear. 
 But as the hodachs wor passing through Bunkilly in 
 their way to Mallows, a man kim against iliim mount- 
 ed on a black horse, with a great |>arcel of brogues in 
 a kish. 
 
 'Hillo, frind,' says the captain, 'who are you, and 
 where might you be throtting to at that rate?' 
 
 'I'm an honest brogue-maker, saving your honor's 
 presence, and carrying this kish ol' brogues to the gar- 
 rislion at Shanacloch,' says the horseman. 
 
 •Will you come back to-nighiJ' says the captain, 
 
 'Is it to come back, your honor manes? By Jam- 
 inic, if I put my eyes on Kippins, the boys wouldn't 
 let me quit to-night. I'll be bail for lashings of whis- 
 key there, an' hay iin oats galore for tliis ould baste.' 
 
 'Harkye, friend,' says the captain, 'you dgnt seem to 
 be overburthened with money, and if you got a fistful! 
 of yellow guineas, would you have any objection to do 
 me a thrifle of sarvice.' 
 
 'Yet '0 make my long story short, tlic murdhering 
 thraitor agreed for a sum of money to betray the Bar- 
 rys, and let the inemy in .upon thim in the dead o' the 
 night. The poor min that wor harraslicd and worn 
 out from watching and constant fighting, took a dhrop 
 e.xlraornary for joy that the English hodachs legged it, 
 and every man wint to sleep, when the brogue-maker 
 promised to keep watch till morning, But by the 
 time the min were dead asleep, the English returned, 
 and the thief of the world opened tlie gates, and every 
 mother's sonl in the castle was murdered in cold blood. 
 Eighteen Redmonds of the Barrys, that were sworn 
 stand or fall together, were stabbed (the Lord save 
 us!) in their sleep. AVliin this massacree was fin- 
 ished, the brogue-maker claimed the reward, and re- 
 quested to be let go, as the daylight was fast approach- 
 ing. 
 
 'I'll give you all you bargained for, and a thrifle 
 over,' says the captain; an when he ped the money 
 down on the nail, he struck off the villian's head for 
 betraying tfie noble fellows, whose blood flowed 
 through every room of the castle that nght. 
 
 'From that time forward a headless horseman was 
 seen every nigh", riding round Shanacloch, and it is 
 not said that he ever did the laste injury to any body. 
 In the coorse of years, this very bourse that I'm tell- 
 ing the story in, (God bless all that's in il!) was built 
 upon the Horseman's Walk, by the masther's grand- 
 father, and every night he intered the kitchen by the 
 door, and wint out through the opposite wall that 
 closed afiher him, as if no Christian sowl passed 
 through it, and they always put out the candle, to al- 
 low him to go by unnoticed. But the night the mas- 
 ther's aunt (God rest her soul!) was marrying, in the 
 micdle of the piping and dancing, the horseman called 
 out at the door — though I wonder how he could, for he 
 never a head upon him. T.he jieojile of the wedding 
 didn't hear, or were afeard to answer him, not know- 
 ing, poor, dear people, what trouble they might be 
 brought to. The headless horseman of Shanacloch 
 was never seen or heard of since. They say his time 
 was out, and his horrible thrcachery atoned for; and 
 
 hat, on this last night, he came to thank them for 
 
 EXTRAORDINARV ADVENTURE. 
 
 Lonis the Fifitenlh dispatched into Germany a con- 
 fidential person on a mission of imporlunce; on this 
 gentleman returiung post, with four servants, night 
 surprised him in a poor linmlct, where there was not 
 even an ale-house. He askid could he lodge at the 
 manor one night, and was answcrid that it had been 
 forsaken tome time; that only a farmer was there by 
 daj -light, whose house stood apart from the manor, 
 which was haunted byspirils that came again aiid beat 
 people. 
 
 The traveller fiiid that he was not afraid of spirits, 
 and to show tliat he wiis not, his attendants should re- 
 main in the hamlet, and that he would go atone to the 
 house, where he would be a niutcli for any spirits that 
 visited there — that lie had beard much of the departed 
 coming again, and he bad long had curiosity to see 
 some of them. 
 
 He esiablislied himself at the manor-house — had a 
 good fire lighted — and as he did not intend going to 
 bed,* had pipes and tobacco brought, with wine; ho 
 also laid on the table two brace of loaded pistols. 
 About midnight he beard a dreadful rattling of chains, 
 and saw a man of large siaiure, who beckoned, and 
 made a sign for his coming to him. The gentleman 
 placed two pistids in his belt, put the third in his pock- 
 et, and took the fourth one in one hand, and the candle 
 in the other. lie ibtn followid the phantom who, 
 going down the stairs, crossed the court into a pas- 
 sage. 
 
 But when tlie gcnilcman was at the end of the pas- 
 sage, his footinp failed, and be slipped down a trap- 
 door. He observed, through an ill-jointed partition, 
 between him and a cellar, that he was in ihe power of 
 several men, who were deliberating whether they 
 should kill him. He also learned by their conversa- 
 tion, that they were coiners. He raised his voice and 
 desired leave to speak to them. This was granted. 
 
 'Gentlemen,' said he, 'my coming hither shows my 
 want of good sense and discretion, but must convince 
 you that I am a man of honor, for a scoundrel is gen- 
 erally a coward; I jiromise upon honor, all secresy re- 
 specting this adventure. Avoid murdering one that 
 never intended to hurt yos. Consider the conse- 
 quences of putting me to death; I have upon me dis- 
 patches, which I am to deliver into the King of 
 France's hands; four of my servants arc now in the 
 neighboring hamlet. Depend upon it such strict search 
 will be made to ascertain my futc, that it must be dis- 
 covered.' 
 
 The coiners resolved to take his word, and they 
 swore him to tell frightful stories about his <idventurcs 
 in the manor. He said the next day that he had seen 
 enough to frighten a man to death; no one could doubt 
 of the truth, when the fact was warranted by one of his 
 character. 
 
 This was continued for twelve years; after that peri- 
 od, when the gentleman was at his country seat with 
 some friends, he was informed that a man, with two- 
 horses, that he led, waited on the bridge, and desired 
 to speak to him, that he could not be persuaded to 
 come nearer. When the gentleman appeared, accom- 
 panied by his friends, the stranger called out, 
 
 'Stop, sir, I have but a word with you; those to 
 j whom you promised, twelve years ago, not to publish 
 what you knew regarding them, arc obliged to you for 
 the observanceof iheir seciet; and now they discharge 
 you from your promise. They have go't a competen- 
 cy, and arc no longer in the kingdom; but before they 
 would allow mc to follow them, they engaged me to 
 beg your acceptance of two horses, and here 1 leave 
 them.' 
 
 The man, who had tied the two horses to a tree, 
 setting spurs to his horse, went oft' so rapidly that they 
 instantly lost sight of him . Then the hero o'' the story 
 related to his friends what had happened to him. 
 
 with armv, to destroy the Catholics, Shanacloch, that ''"■■''■ P*'' t^'i'lness Vt him. 
 then belonged to the Barrys Cthe rap M'Adamecs )was ' 'Thanks be to heaven, spirits and ghosts arc going 
 ., J ., •'■''' I away very fast, bekase wars and murders are at an md; 
 
 garnslioned With stout boys, that defended the place and 'the clargy, more power to em, has sent a great 
 for James, and well, in their way, they wor to spill | many sowls to the Red Say.' 
 
 A new umbrella has been manufactured in Conneti- 
 cut, called the 'lending umbrella.' It is made of 
 brown paper and willow twigs, intended exclusively to 
 accommodate a friend. 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 373 
 
 THE CASTLE AND BBIDGE OF ADAIll. 
 
 The above engraving represents the bridge of 
 Adair, over the river Maize (which is navigable for 
 large boats ;) and the castle of the Earls of Desmond, 
 built as if to command and guard the passage. The 
 ruins show that it must have been a place of great 
 strength ; and its situation was chosen by a warrior 
 •who knew the value of the pass which it was raised 
 to defend. It was finally and completely dismantled 
 in the rebellion of 1641. 
 
 THE GERMAN WALTZER. ■ 
 
 In 1806, 1 was in love with a fair creature, who seem- 
 ed to be all my fond heart could wish, and I flattered 
 myself that I possessed her affection. Although her 
 reserve had never permitted her to bid me hope, still, 
 from the graciousness with which she listened to my 
 suit, and the evident pleasure that her countenance ex- 
 pressed at my approach, I ventured to open my mind 
 to Mrs. Baker, the mother of my mistress, who gave 
 me the most favorable answer, and assured me that 
 modesty alone prevented my Murgaret from person- 
 ally avowing to me her predilection in my favor. My 
 mother, therefore, proceeded to settle the nuptial pre- 
 liminaries with Mrs. Baker. My fortune was much 
 more than Margaret was entitled to expect ; as love 
 turned the scale, I rejoiced that I could prove my dis- 
 interestedness. Full of the most delightful anticipa- 
 tions, I went to Dublin, to give directions to my so- 
 licitor concerning the settlements ; on my parting with 
 Margaret, she would not even allow me to take her 
 hand, though, sweetly smiling, she whispered her con- 
 sent that it should become mine on my return ; this 
 maidenly reserve charmed me still more. Tired by 
 the legal delays, I returned to my residence before the 
 settlements were completed. So anxious was I to see 
 her I loved, that I proposed to visit Mrs. Baker the 
 day of my return ; she lived in a town about ten miles 
 from Elnivillc, my abode. 
 
 'You will meet Margaret at the ball this evening, 
 Charles,' said my mother , ' I think as I propose go- 
 ing there you may delay your visit for a few hours.' 
 
 I agreed. We set oft' for F after dinner, and 
 
 from some delay on the road, did not arrive till past 
 nine o'clock. 
 
 ' Let us drive to Mrs. Baker's,' said I, as we entered 
 the town. 
 
 ' Oh, no, Charles, it is too late, she is certainly gone 
 to the ball.' 
 
 ' But suppose she did not go there, I shall be so 
 mucli longer without seeing Margaret.' 
 
 ' Well, let us ask at the assembly room as we pass 
 mg.' 
 
 Accordingly we proceeded there. The strains of a 
 fine military band were soon audible ; the room was 
 brilliantly lighted, and the street seemed illuminated 
 from the lamps in the ball room ; my heart began to 
 beat violently at the anticipated meeting. 
 
 ' Margaret will be surprised to see me,' I said. 
 ' Certatnly, I fancy her reserve will be overcome by 
 the pleasure she will feel,' observed my mother laugh 
 ing. 
 
 The carriage stopped ; I asked an attendant whether 
 Mrs. Baker's family were at the ball. 
 
 ' That they are, sir, and all the world with them — a 
 power of company there, sure enough, as ever you 
 see.' 
 
 We alighted, made our way through the crowd on 
 the staircase, and entered the ball room, the centre of 
 which was occupied by the military beaux, in full waltz 
 with their partners, and every form and chair engaged 
 by lookers-on at the strange movements. 
 
 ' What on earth is this V I asked as our progress 
 was impeded, my head too beginning to reel with 
 the whirling of the waltzers. 
 
 ' O, the troops have been exchanged for Germans 
 since you went to Dublin, and this is i^he waltz,' said 
 my mother. 
 
 At this moment Mr. Bolton, an old friend of ours, 
 joined us : — 
 
 'Is this Franklin V he asked, surprised at my sud- 
 den appearance. ' Well, you are come back to see 
 strange sights — very fine work this is — I'd rather see 
 my girls dead than making such a scandalous exhi- 
 bition.' 
 
 ' O, fie, Mr. Bolton,' said a lady who had jnst ceas- 
 ed attempting to waltz, Mt is a very pretty dance.' 
 
 'I dure say you think so,' he returned, 'hut I hope 
 these foreign dunces may never tidie root here, we are 
 bud enough without them.' 
 
 'The German ladies are very graceful,' said Mrs. 
 Bolton. 
 
 'Yes,' returned her spouse, 'they really twiri about 
 gracefully, which our countrj-women never can do; 
 and the Germans only look on,theso frisks and em- 
 bri\ees as their national dance, but the ease is verj' dif- 
 ferent with our Irish lasses.' 
 
 I vow,' said another gentleman, who jumped "off 
 the form on whi' h he had been standing, 'it is a great 
 sight to see Miss Baker waltzing with Baron Knyp- 
 hausen.' 
 
 As I stood, confounded and puzzled, my Margaret 
 whisked past in the arms of the German. The sight 
 left my eyes — I staggered to the wall My mother 
 was greatly shocked. 
 
 'Charles, you must desire Margaret not to waltz; it 
 is very strange she could think of doing so, but I'm 
 sure she did not expect to see you here.' 
 
 I groaned — 'Oh, Margaret, Margaret, that I thought 
 wise as fair.' 
 
 With great difficulty, my mother prevailed on me to 
 remain and speak to my lost love; accordingi}' I made 
 way to her, just as her partner hud waltzed her to a 
 seat, and softly uttering, 'I tank,' with a graceful bow, 
 and his hand on his heart, he retired; her eyes fol- 
 him. I spoke to her — she answered evidently preoc- 
 cupied by him, and expressed neither surprise nor 
 pleasure at my sudden return; her mother saw by my 
 countenance that there was something amiss, a d in- 
 terposed, with a profusion of civility to me, and vari- 
 ous conciliatory whispers to Margaret — but the charm 
 was dissolved — the mischief was done — I was not such 
 an absolute fool as to marry one who would permit 
 such familiarities. How Baron Knyphausen made love 
 could only puzzle those who knew not love was an 
 universal language. His English was confined to 'I 
 tank,' and Margaret's German to understanding Mcta 
 was her name in it. Her lover w.is soon called away 
 to sterner scenes, and fell in an engagmcnt shortly 
 after he went to Spain. Again Margaret sweetly 
 beamed her most gracious looks on me, and her pa- 
 rents made many pressing offers for a renewal of my 
 suit, but I declined firmly, and since that period the 
 fair sex have never made any impi'cssion on your 
 humble servant. 
 
 Two young misses, discussing the (|ualities of a 
 
 young gent, were heard at it thus: 
 
 'I like Charley; hut he is rather girlish. He hasn't 
 
 the least bit of beard.' 
 
 'I say he has a beard, but he shaves it oflF.' 
 
 'No be hasn't either, any more than I have.' 
 
 •I say he has, too, and I know it, for it scratched 
 
 my cheek the other day.' 
 
374 
 
 IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 CItACE KEVIN! 
 
 I bad been 6ro years curate uf the amall parish of 
 Bunulttw, wlien, a^i I was going out early one morn- 
 ing my u:<uiil round, I met several men, accompanied 
 by two or ilirce I'eclcrs, wlio bore between lliem the 
 body of a man laid on u'slmltur. 
 
 'Who is it?' I inquiicd. 
 
 'Farmer Uyan, bir, whom wo found in the Held by 
 Bu Mary's well.' 
 
 'What has happened to him!' 
 
 The I'ecler drew lusiile the great coat that was 
 thrown over him, and showed me the face of the dead. 
 He had met with the fute of Sisera— a nail was tixid 
 in his temple. I shrunk back with sudden disgust — a 
 sick and miserable feeling came over nic. It was the 
 first time I had looked upon such a spectacle, and the 
 comjiosure with which every oilier eye was li.\cd upon 
 it, even at that painful moment, struck me forcibly. 
 
 'How did you discover him!' was my tiist question, 
 when I .spoke again. 
 
 'Our attention, sir, was excited by the peculiar 
 barking and unusual movements of a liltln dog, which, 
 1 btlieve, belonged to the dijceaiied. We followed it, 
 and in a dry ditch we discovered the body.' 
 
 'Have you any traces — any suspicion.-.!' 
 
 The Peelers looked down and were silent. I took 
 the hint, and asked no mure questions. I went away 
 sorrowful and desponding. None hue those who have 
 experienced them, can tell the painful leelings with 
 which a clergyman beholds these terrible proofs that 
 ho preaches in vain. It was but \esterday morning 
 tliat I had seen farmer Kyan in health anil strength, 
 and had urged upon him — for he was a Protestant, 
 though a dissenter — ihe absolute necessity of changing 
 the dissolute life ho led. Ot all my piirlsliioners, he 
 was the least lit for the awful eternity into ;vhieh he 
 had entered so suddenly. I recalled the evil tenor of 
 his past life, and his faint assurances of amendment 
 for the future, in reply to my earnest expostulations; 
 and now no time had been given him — lie was gone, 
 and his great account with him! At that moment, I 
 felt as if I had not spoken with sutHcient warmth — as 
 if the forms of human society, and the respect for indi- 
 vidual feeling, hud made that voice weak, and those 
 words cold, to which I would now have given a tre- 
 mendous energy. At the time, I thought that my zeal 
 had almost verged on imprudence; but under the im- 
 mediate impression of his sudden death, it appeared as 
 if my remonstrance had been languid and feeble. The 
 next day I was required to be present at the inquest 
 held on the body of farmer Ryan. On one point my 
 testimony was important. I was believed to have 
 been the la.st person who had seen him alive; but the 
 evidence obtained proved that this was not the case. 
 From my house he had gone to that of a woman who 
 sold whiskey, and there his diunken habits had so far 
 prevailed over his good resolutions, that he staid 
 drinking till nearly intoxicoted, and then lift the 'pub- 
 lic' to go home. A man, however, proved that he did 
 not reach hia own house, but was seen to enter the 
 cabin ol Grace Kevin, from whence no evidence was 
 adduced in proof of his departure. It is wonderful 
 bow often the most triflini; circumstauccs lead to the 
 detection of murder. The man who gdve his evidence 
 declared, that he should not have known it was farmer 
 Ryan, but that as he went in at the little gate his coat 
 caught in a nail, and he heard him continually say, 
 'damn it;' oilietwise, the evening was so far advanced, 
 and the deceased's hat so slouched over his face, that 
 he should not have been able to have sworn posiiivcly 
 to his idcniiiy. The police now came forward, ai.d 
 staled that the steps which had been traced from the 
 field in which the farmer was fuund, to the cabin of 
 Grace Kevin and her mother, answered to the feet of 
 both tliose persons. The coroner went himself to ex- 
 amine the footmarks, but rain had since fallen heavily 
 and most of them were elfaced. One or two, how- 
 ever, were found by the hedge, and under the shelter 
 of its bushes had remained entire. They were those 
 of a naked foot, and bad this singularity, that they 
 were the steps of persons who came from the held to 
 the house — there was no trace of any fiom ihe houiie 
 
 to the Held. Both the women were in custody, and 
 llio police further deposed that they had asked them if 
 farmer Kyun had been at their house the day before, 
 and that they had posilivel; denied the fact. They 
 were hriiught hi, and closely examined, but not pub- 
 licly. What transpired to alli.x guilt ufiun them was 
 not generally known; but they were fully committed 
 for trial at the approaching assi/.es, and removed im- 
 mediately to the county gaol. The Countenance of 
 Grace was so hid by the hood she wore, that I did not 
 sec it; on that of her moilier every evil passion was 
 impressed, mi.xed with a troubled exjiression of coun- 
 tenance. She did not appear to have expected her 
 committal, and it had dcstrovi^d hir previous equanim- 
 ity. The crowd without received them in proiuund 
 silence — neither blessings nor execrations attended 
 their removal. Uyaii was a Protestant — the girl and 
 her mother were Catholics. The beauty of Grace had 
 been to her a fatal dower. Three years hi fore, Ryan 
 hud fallen in love with her, and she had lived some 
 time with him as his mistress, in the enjoyment of 
 vulgar splendor and wastid wealth. Her brothers had 
 been maintained by Kyaii in idleness and while these 
 advantages lasted all had gone well; but on the loss 
 of her child, Grace .seemed to lose her hold on the af- 
 fections of Ryan; they had Irequently diU'ercd, and at 
 length quarrelled more seiiously. From being less 
 lavish to her brothers, he grew in time less friendly, 
 and at last positively refused to support them, or be- 
 stow on them some ground he had before promised to 
 let them cultivate, rent free. Frequent and bitter dis- 
 sensions ensued; till on some act of deliberate unkind- 
 nesrs to her mother, she left him, and took shelter with 
 her in a miserable cabin, where they had often in the 
 bitterness of their hearts been heard to curse Ryan, 
 and menace hira wiih vengeance. Ryan, who had 
 missed Grace more than ho had anticipated, would 
 willingly have received her agam; but as her family 
 were not included in his renewed advances, they were 
 scornfully rejected. They ceased to sec each other; 
 and her brothers left the country. It was supposed 
 that in his drunken lit Ryan sought the cottage, and 
 had there met with a death fearfully sudden. These 
 were all the circumstances yet known; but the assizes 
 were near, and every one looked with intense anxiety 
 to the trial. 
 
 * # * # # ■ # 
 
 The assizes came at last, and after some minor cases 
 had been dismissed, tliii'. of Grace Kevin stood next on 
 the list. I was obliged to be in court to give evidence, 
 ard being once there, I was compelled to remain; 
 there was no possibility of release until the trial was 
 over. The grand jury had found a true bill against 
 hei mother and herself, for the wilful murder of Far- 
 mer Ryan. When Grace was asked, 'guilty or not 
 guilty,' by the cuuri' her lips moved, but no audible 
 sound issued from them; her counsel said she pleaded 
 not guilty, and that plea was recorded — I thought, 
 with a feeling of impatience on the part of the accused. 
 The police deposed to the footmarks, and their agree- 
 ment in size with those of the accused; they further 
 stated they had picked up a leather thong caught ap- 
 parently in a nail, which corresponded exactly with a 
 failure in the shoe of the deceased. The shoe and the 
 leather thong were produced, and as iheir exact agree- 
 ment was made obvious to all, a change appeared for 
 the hrst time on tho face of the younger prisoner. She 
 
 turned, and fixed her eyes sadly upon her mother 
 
 something like reproach was in them, while the old 
 woman, on receiving that wild glance, smote her 
 breast, and groaned audibly. The speech of the yonng 
 advocate for the prisonous made a visible impression 
 on the jury. The judge summed up the evidence, and 
 gave full weight to every extenuating circurnstance— 
 hope beat high in many an anxious heart in that 
 crowded court; and an expression of renewed confi- 
 dence sat on every face. Grace, in the meantime, 
 stood with downcast eyes, and a countenance of in- 
 tense thought. While her advocate had dwelt so elo- 
 quently on her wrongs, a thousand rapid emotions had 
 pivssed over her countenance, and the mention of her 
 child seemed to excite a thriU of agony; but these fluc- 
 
 tuations of feeling had now passed away, and she stood 
 as if the strife of her thoughts had annihilated all feel- 
 ing within her. Tliii could not lust long — shebecamo 
 sensible of her situation, ua tho jury were about to 
 withdraw, and in a lone which, low and almost sepul- 
 chral as it was, was yet heard by every one in the re- 
 motest corner of the court-house, she called upon the 
 jury to stop. A new and wilder light biul returned to 
 her eyes— she flung back the mass of dark, waving 
 hair that shaded her face; her breath came hurriedly, 
 and as she turned her face towards ihe judge, there 
 was something in her eye that made the spectators 
 tremble. 
 
 'I am guilty,' she exclaimed, 'why should I fear your 
 verdict, when I have looked on the face of the dead 
 and shed no tears.' 
 
 She sank back exhausted, and a silence more elo- 
 quent than words ensued. Her counsel was the first 
 to speak, and to direct the attention of the judge to tho 
 wildness of her manner, and the iucoherency of her 
 words — but she rejected the plea. 
 
 'True for ye,' she said, 'the words arc wild, but the 
 deed was « ilder still. ' Wo had been separated long; I 
 sought him not, for my soul loathed hiip entirely; ho 
 came into our cabin in the dark hour, when human 
 passions stir wildly in the unhappy; his words were 
 few, yet degrading, when, already intoxicated, he fell 
 asleep on the rush pallet which was our only bed. Ho 
 slept— all my wrongs rushed into my mind as I gazed 
 upon him; my blighted youth — the hopeless future, 
 and the poverty, and the famine against which we had 
 struggled in vain; but my father's last words were his 
 knell, and he died almost without a sigh. Shrink 
 from me if you will,' she continued; the passionate 
 emotions of her mind now fast heightening into fever- 
 ish excitement — 'I killed him; brief though keen was 
 the pang he sufl'ered. Your creed knows no purgato- 
 ry for the sinful, but what is his reward who brought 
 me here?' 
 
 While she spoke, every breath had been held. Tho 
 jury remained where her words had first arrested their 
 steps — she alone, indili'eient, perhaps unconscious of 
 their gaze, stood before them, her slender figure dilated 
 to its full height; yet true to woman's nature, when 
 she turned and met her mother's eye fixed in mute 
 agony upon her, the strong nerves gave way, she fell 
 upon her neck and burst into a passion of tears. Her 
 counicl made one more effort to save her, which, like 
 his preceding one, was made in vain. Ryan, he said, 
 had sought her house unexpectedly; the deed was 
 done in sudden passion, exasperated probably by tho 
 language of the deceased. But the prisoner rejected 
 the plea thus held out The tempuuion she said, was 
 sudden, but deliberately yielded to. 'Aly mother did 
 not return till all was over; you will not condemn her ■ 
 that she did not denounce her child,' she added, with 
 trembling eagerness. The old woman moved forward 
 a few steps, and strove to plead for her daughter. She 
 looked vildly on the faces of fixed and speechless in- 
 terest around her; hut age and sorrow had paralysed 
 her nerves, as want had long undermined her health, 
 and she dropped her head upon her breast with an air 
 of mental imbecility. The judge, though greatly 
 moved, proceeded to pass sentence, and when he put 
 on the fatal black cap, the old woman's countenance 
 suddenly became of a livid crimson, and then fading 
 again to unearthly paleness, she sank over the bar. 
 They raised her, but the glazed eyes were fixed, the 
 clenched hand relaxed, and life irrecoverably gone. 
 She was borne away without the fatal intelligence hav- 
 ing been communicated to her daughter. The awful 
 sentence was concluded amidst the bursting sighs of 
 some, and the audible sobs of others. It was doubiful 
 if Grace heard it throughout; her eyes were fixed on 
 the door through which her mcther had been carried, 
 and the long and exciting emotion she had gone 
 through, was now producing its natural results; her 
 strength was fast failing her, she was led gently from 
 the bar, and every one turned to catch a last glimpse 
 of one whose hours were numbered. I left the court 
 immediately, and it was some lime before the strong 
 emotion excited by this scene had at all subsided 
 
 ■ong 1 
 
 J 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 375 
 
 Never had the blighting effects of sin been so vividly 
 brought before me. Grace Kevin had occupied my 
 thuughts long after her condemnation; but knowing 
 her to have been brouglit uj) in the Roman (latbolic 
 pLTSuasion, conirary to the oninion of some zealous 
 ladies, I refused to bewilder her last hours. While 
 the subject was yet fresh in my mind, I received a visit 
 from Mr. Morton, the Catholic priest. He had been 
 educated in France, and escajjcd to Ireland on the first 
 revoluiion of 1703; he was au old man of a truly ven- 
 erable aspect, and a heart too replete with kind and 
 excellent feelings to be happy as a parish priest iu Ire- 
 land. 
 
 'I am come to you,' be said, 'on an unusual errc.nd; 
 Grace Kevin, who now lies under sentence of death, 
 lived long enough with Ryan to imbibe a prejudice for 
 his creed. Strange power of novelty over the human 
 mind, which can attach us to doctrines that admit of 
 such practices. Her predilection for the reformed re- 
 ligion has survived every other feehn^ ; she listens to 
 me as though she heard me not, and God forbid that 
 at this awful hour, I should suffer individual or per- 
 sonal feelings to influence me. Yeu sec, Mr. Talbot, 
 he added, vnih. a faint smile, 'I depend upon your be- 
 lieving me.' 
 
 'I do,' I said 'implicitly,' and I spoke with warmfi. 
 'You will then, sir, see this poor girl? Make her 
 neither yours, nor mine, bnt bring her, if you can, a 
 penitent to her God. She has some excellent qualities 
 — she was early led astray. A young and affectionate 
 heart has many enemies to struggle wiih — hers de- 
 ceived her. She is still ignorant of her mother's 
 death, and they purpose to keep her so. I cannot re- 
 sign my interest in her, and I was unwilling that she 
 should become the prey of enthusiasts of your party. 
 Farewell, sir, she is prepared to see you, and this order 
 will admit you to the prison.' 
 
 I had a magistrate's order, and was conducted at 
 once to the prisoner. She was alone, sitting on a low 
 stool; her head leaning on her hand, her figure rock- 
 ing slowly to and fro, in the vain effort to lull the an- 
 guish of the mind by the monotonous movement of 
 the body. The cell, compared with the bright day I 
 had left was partially gloomy, but the slanting rays of 
 the sun were striking on the opposite wall of the court 
 below, and its splendor was faintly reflecled through 
 the iron gate, and threw a glow of light around her. 
 She was in the same dress that she wore on the trial, 
 with this only difference, that her cap was removed, 
 and her hair hung in large dibhevelled ringlets down 
 her shoulders. Their raven blackness was strongly 
 contrasted with the brightly reflected lights that played 
 in the folds of her crimson handkerchief She started 
 at my entrance, and rose with the bewildered look of 
 one who collects their ideas with pain and difficulty, 
 her eyes were eagerly fixed on the door long after it 
 had closed, and then wandered timidly to me, as if to 
 ask the occasion of my entrance. 
 
 'I was informed you wished to see me, Grace,' I said 
 gently; 'in what way can I serve you'?' 
 
 Her ideas gradually cleared, then clasping her hands, 
 she saiil, 
 
 'Let me see my mother; what have they done with 
 her? Intercede for her, I implore you— she is inno- 
 cent." 
 
 I resolved to communicate her mother's death, but 
 tenderly as it was done, I trembled for the result. The 
 blow which I thought would have destroyed her half- 
 paralysed faculties, had a directly contrary effect. 
 This fresh calamity roused her completely; the loss, 
 which in a more healthy state of her inind would have 
 overcome it, now only stimulated it to salutary reflec- 
 tion. She wept long and bitterly, and was rational. I 
 saw her daily, ami without attempting to offer an ex- 
 cuse for a crime like hers, it was impossible not to feel 
 the deepest compassion for a creature so richly en- 
 dowed by nature, and so marred by vices not original- 
 ly her own. Xotwithstanding that her education had 
 been in general superior to her station, her ignorance 
 of her religion^uties was deplorable; the few prayers 
 she knew were in a language of which she was igno- 
 *ant; and the rest of her religious knowledge waa of a 
 
 similar description. I attempted not to teach her any 
 particular form; it was sufficient to awaken her to the 
 general principles of religion, to teach her to feel her 
 own unwortbiness, and to lead her to her Saviour as 
 her sole mediator. She was reprieved for six weeks, 
 to give her time to learn to die. She expressed — I be- 
 lieve felt — no wish to live; but she dreaded the awful 
 eternity — now first contemplated as a reality, upon 
 which she was almost ready to enter! She was sin- 
 cerelv penitent, and at length better, though humble 
 hopes dawned on her mind. It was impossible to sec 
 the workings of this young creature's heart without 
 the most vehement compassion, and as her last hour 
 drew near, I felt a degree of anguish she did not herself 
 experience. By slow degrees her mind was led at last 
 to feel that all other things were indilferenf, compared 
 with the awful change she was about to experience; 
 and to acknowledge that it was fitting she should make 
 every expiation to the offended laws of her country 
 My eyes were wet with irrepressible tears, but her- 
 were dry; she continued to detain me with delusive 
 eao-erness, as if, while 1 remained, the awful summouf 
 was delayed. I endeavored to direct her attention to 
 the cheering promise of our Saviour, Tome unto me 
 all ye that labor and are heavy-laden, and I will give 
 you rest ' 
 
 'Say that agnin,' she said, and when I had done so, 
 and pointed it out to her in the Testament she held in 
 her hand, I made a faltering movement to depart. 
 
 'You are eager to go,' she exclaimed, 'cannot you 
 bear with the few dreary moments I have left me!' 
 
 Then seeing that it was the excess of my emotion 
 that made me silent, she besought my forgiveness, and 
 prayed in her own wild language that God might bless 
 me entirely; and then, with a generous consideration 
 of what I was sufferini.', bade me farewell. 
 
 The first person I accosted the day atter the exeeu- 
 tion of Grace Kevin, was Mr. Morton; he had staid 
 with hbr to the last. 
 
 'Others will tell you,' he said, 'of her calmness and 
 composure; mv conviction is, that terror had com- 
 pletely benumbed her faculties.' 
 
 A discussion followed, on the moral difference in 
 crime, in which he displayed a mind acute and intelli- 
 gent in no common degree; and when we parted, it 
 was with regret I heard that he was about to leave 
 Ireland. He had been educated in France, and was 
 now going to return there. Father Finn, whose place 
 he had supplied, was sufficiently recovered to resume 
 his duties in the village, and the remaining years of 
 Mr. Morton's life he intended to devote to learned 
 leisure and religious seclusion. 
 
 AN ENGLISH MASTER AND AN IRISH 
 SERVANT. 
 
 The first question in a whimsical dialogue between 
 an English gentleman, on his arrival in Ireland, and 
 Terence, his servant, a native of that country, re- 
 lates to rain, and is therefore—' Apropos of Rain.' 
 
 Master — Does it ram ? 
 
 Terry— No, Sir. 
 
 M— I see the sun shines— Post nubila Phccbus. 
 
 T — The post has not come in yet. 
 
 M— How long did you live with Mr. T ? 
 
 T— In throth. Sir, I can't tell. I passed my time 
 so pleasantly in his service, that I never kept any 
 account of it. I might have lived with him all the 
 days of my life— and a great deal longer if I had 
 pleased. 
 
 M — What made you leave him ? 
 
 T — My young mistress took it into her head to 
 break my heart ; for I was obliged to attend her 
 to church, and to the play, and wherever she vis- 
 ited. 
 
 M — Was not your master a proud man ? 
 
 'X' The proudest man in the kingdom — he would 
 
 not do a dirty action for the universe. 
 
 M — What age are you now ? 
 
 T I am just the same age of Paddy Leahy ; he 
 
 and I were born in a week of each other. 
 
 M— Uow old ia he ? 
 
 ■T — I can't tell; nor I don't think he can toll him- 
 self. 
 
 M — Were you born in Dublin ? 
 
 T— No, Sir ; I might if I had a mind ; but I pre 
 ferred the country ; and, please God, if I live and 
 do well, I'U be buried in the same parish I was born 
 in. 
 
 M — You can write, I suppose ? 
 
 T — Y'es, Sir ; as fast as a dog can trot. 
 
 M— Which is the usual mode of travelling in this 
 country ? 
 
 T— Why, Sir, if you travel by water, you must 
 take a boat; and if you travel by land, either in a 
 chaise or on horseback ; those that can't afford 
 cither one or the other are obliged to trudge it on 
 foot. 
 
 M — Which is the pleasantest season for traveling? 
 
 T — Why, Sir, I think that season in which a man 
 has most money in his purse. 
 
 M — I bclicT* your roads are passably good ? 
 
 T — They are passable, Sir, if you pay the turn- 
 pike. 
 
 M — I am told you have an immensity of black 
 cattle in this country. 
 
 T — Why, we have, Sir, plenty of every color. 
 
 M — But I think it rains too much in Ireland. 
 
 T — So every one says ; but Sir Boyle says he will 
 bring in an act of parliament in favor of fair weather ; 
 and! am sure the poor hay-mokers and turf cutters 
 will bless him for it. God bless him, it was he that 
 first proposed that every quart bottle should hold a 
 quart. 
 
 M — As you have many fine rivers I suppose you 
 have abundance of fish. 
 
 T — The best ever water wet — the first fish in the 
 world except themselves. Why, master, I won't 
 tell you a lie ; If you were at the Boyne you could 
 get salmon and trout for nothing ; and if you were 
 at Ballyshanny you'd get them for less. 
 
 M — Were you ever in England ? 
 
 T — No, Sir; but I'd like very mach to see that 
 fine country. 
 
 M — Your passage to Liverpool, or the Head, 
 would not cost more than half a guinea. 
 
 T — Troth, master, I'd rather walk it, than pay 
 half the money. 
 
 Shrews. — Socrates used to say to his friends that 
 his wife was his greatest blessing, since she was a 
 never-ceasing monitor of patience, from whom he 
 learned so much within his own door, that all the 
 crosses that he met with elsewhere were light to him. 
 
 Pittacus, who was as blessed in this respect as Soc- 
 rates, but was fivmous chiefly for his valor, wisdom, 
 and justice, invited, upon one occasion, a party of 
 friends to his house, who had never had the pleasure 
 of feasting at his table before. It was intended to be 
 a sort of bachelor's party; but in the midst of the din- 
 ner, his wife, angry, probably at her exclusion, rushed 
 into the room, and in a great fury, kicked over the 
 tabic, and tumbled every thing upon it on the floor. 
 The guests did not know how to look, or what to say, 
 on tRe occasion; but Pittacus relieved them from their 
 confusion, by observing, 'There is not one of us all 
 but hath his cross, and one thing or other wherewith 
 to exercise his patience; and for my own part, this is 
 the only thing that cliecketh my felicity, for were it 
 not for this shrew, my wife, I were the happiest man 
 in the world.' 
 
 'But before these," says the author of reflection on 
 modern marriages, 'commend me to that glorious in- 
 stance of resolution in an English wife. This lady, 
 (who had been a widow,) when her new husband, 
 blessed before with peace and plenty, with all the afflu- 
 ence heaven could give, told her he married her to 
 teach him patience, and carry him that way to heaven, 
 well knowing that she was greater than Zantippe as a 
 scold. She resolutely answered him, 'I will let you 
 know that, whatever I h.4ve been, I scorn to be any 
 man's pack-horse.' She acconliiigly became the most 
 peaceable, calm, and tractable >f »ll" English wives, for 
 her whole life iifterwaidii 
 
376 
 
 IRlSfl MISCELLANY. 
 
 With virtue, with capiicitT, and gontl conduct, a ' insignificnnt mutter, an almost nothin);, will cause as i stores of knowlcd|!:c, wliich would lie buried in the 
 man mnv yet be onbcarulilu. Ceriuiii wiits of lioh'a- to be tlioiij;lit b»ngbt/, uncivil, cniilcnipruoiis, diso- mind that possessed tliem, if the desire of applause 
 vior, wliiih miiy bf nojilti-K-d beiiinhc ihoiiKht too t'i- bliging; nnd, fiir more than iill iliis.mny niiike us to or at least of esieem, diil not sometimes impel the 
 flinR, will frei|iiently make the world juil);e well or ill bo considered ns the very opposite. , mnn of (;ci)ius lo share its Inasuro wit h mankind; and 
 
 of us. A slight endeiivor at civility and politeness ii proper decree of vanity is useful in introducing tal' 
 
 jnny prevent their thinking unfavorably ol us. An I'ride would too oflen content itself with collecting ^.nt imo nmi^o Pride may bo compared to the sun 
 
 ^W 
 
 whih ripens the plant m silence, vanity to the breeze verse — its proper attractions nil pone, its destiny. ■ son, of nny class or school, err read the Scnptnres 
 which spreads its fragrance through 1 he world. j thwarted, and its whole future nothing but darkness [regularly and thoroughly without being or becoming, 
 
 I desolation and death. I not onlv religious, but sensible and consistent.' 
 
 ReliL'ion,the tic that connects man with his Creator, j I ■ 
 
 and holds him to his throne. If that tie is sundered | The most inflaential and widely circulated political I Some people tarn up their noses ^his world as if 
 or broken, he floats away a worthless atom in the uni- j newspaper in the world says, ' We question ii' any per- 1 they had been keeping company with a better. 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 377 
 
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 IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 BOSTON, SATURDAY, JULY 24, 1858 
 
 THE BROTHERS CORMACK. 
 
 Thecase of these unfortunate men, who were recently 
 judicially butchered for the alleged assassination of a Mr. 
 Ellis, excites a great amount of teeling and indignation 
 throughout the whole of Ireland It appears that Burke, 
 one of the most material witnesses for the prosecution, has 
 made a confession in the presence of two police-constables, 
 that he had committed perjuryin swearing away the lives of 
 these unfortunate men. Burke swore on the Coroner's 
 inquest, that he did not know who murdered Ellis, and on 
 the trial declared his former oath to be false; yet, after, ad- 
 mitting his perjury, he was forced on the jury by Mr. Juftice 
 Keogh as a reputable witness, and who held that his perjury 
 on the inquest was no disqualification to him as a witness 
 lor the crown. In its coments on this matter, the Tablet 
 observes: — 'We say nothing of the extraordinary means 
 taken by the crown to secure conviction on this doubtful 
 evidence, the placing the wretched prisoners a second 
 time on their trial the very day after the first jury had re- 
 fused to convict, a step which is almost without precedent, 
 at least in modern times, in either England or Scotland. 
 It is absolutely false to say there is anything whatever in 
 the state of the country to warrant, or even palliate, this 
 outrage on humanity and justice. Murders of any kind 
 have grown to be rare in Ireland, much more so than in 
 England or Scotland, and what were called aggrarian mur- 
 ders have almost, if not quite disappeared. There was but 
 little sympathy felt for the Cormacsinthe country until the 
 extraordinary means taken for their conviction, and the 
 conduct of the judge and prosecutors, joined to the absence 
 of trustworthy evidence against them, forced on the con- 
 viction that they were going to be put to death innocently. 
 It is certain that no English jury would have convicted in 
 a capital case on such evidence as was given against the 
 Cormacks, and certainly no English judge would have 
 urged a jury to convict and send two men to death on such 
 testimony as that of the mif-creants Spillane and Burke. 
 The administration of justice should be not only pure but 
 above suspicion, not merely of partiality, but of cruelty and 
 vindictiveness, II the country were in a state of disturb- 
 ance, and something like martial law were thonglit necessa- 
 ry, we could understand the extra vigor and unscrupulous 
 energy employed to secure the conviction of these wretched 
 men, and also the stern denial of mercy to the mostear- 
 nest entreaties of tho-e who interceded in their behalf, and 
 who could not by any stretch of misrepresentation be made 
 appear as sympathisers with crime.' It is further urged 
 that inasmuch as the country was never so free from crime 
 as at the present time, it was 'an outrage on the humanity 
 of the country to send two wretched men to death on the 
 doubtful evidence of informers, accomplices and admitted 
 perjurers, and in the face of a most earnest remonstrance 
 from the people of all classes and grades, who, living on 
 the spot and being familiar with every circumstance of 
 the case, were most firmly convinced of their innocence 
 
 [Ilr* We cut the following paragraph from the Philadel- 
 phia Press: — 
 
 •The Irish Miscellany, a weekly journal of literature and 
 antiquities, established in Boston five months ago. has evi- 
 dently taken root in the City of Notions. It contains a re- 
 print of the Irish Penny Journal, with illustrations. It is 
 scarcely justified, we think, in assigning the authorship of 
 'The Exile of Erin' to (Jeorge Nugent Reynolds. There are 
 the strongest proofs that Thomas Campbell wrote it in Ger- 
 many, and published it in London immediately after it was 
 composed.' 
 
 Thanks lor the notice. 'Approbation from Sir Hubert 
 Stanley is praise indeed.' But appropos of the 'Exile of 
 Erhi;' the foot-note attached to the music attributing the 
 paternity of the song to Heynolds, did not come under our 
 notice uiUil too late to make the necessary alteration. We 
 never for a moment imagined thatany other than Campbell 
 wrote the song, and would be the last in the world to rob 
 the Scottish poet of apnrticic of the honor which is his just 
 due. Forgive us this time, Doctor, and we will promise to 
 'siunomore.' 
 
 PICNIC OF THE 
 
 YoHKO Catholics' Friend Society. 
 We have received a polite invitation to attend the fifth 
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 who, we are sure, will do the subject every justice, if we 
 may judge from his famous military picture of 'covering 
 the retreat at Breed's Uill.' 
 
 The size of the picture will be seventeen inches by eleven, 
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78 
 
 miSH MISCELLANY. 
 
 Writti'u lor Ilii- Jli»ci!lluny. 
 THE DOOMED CITY. 
 
 BYTUOMAe* t». UONOUO. 
 
 In > far-ofl' vcninnt vnlley, 
 
 SuMi^t' ini>iiiitulii« round It, 
 B)- a (J rent Suit Ij«ke, a Clly, 
 
 Slrungt'l) buill, nnd Firangcly peopled, 
 Like a Ctirifitiaii Clly ulccplcd, 
 Kifi'ii.— Who bas found il? 
 
 To tlie Kfd Tribe* is it known, 
 
 Tu tlitt Iribvo ulf lance mid bow, 
 To IlieOveldecr ia It known, 
 
 And llio beaUlont; buflalo: 
 Tke.-e hute looked upon it. piu^inf;, 
 
 Tliew bate >ceu with nouderini; eyee, 
 Then away anioug tlie mounluino, 
 Tlirougb the l'orv»t, o'ertlie prairies, 
 
 Swept witb Ibelr surprise! 
 
 In tlic ivildernesf , a City : 
 
 Yet llic world, witb love or pity, 
 
 All the world lias heard its name: 
 8ouie have lienid it. and received it, 
 As a sacred thing believed it. 
 And, with pilgrim-like devotion. 
 
 Day and night, and day and night. 
 O'er the billsaud vales of ocean, 
 
 Jouruicd to Ihe Latter Light. 
 Others, when they heard the story. 
 Saw the tin.<*l of the glory. 
 Saw the strange deceit, the madness, 
 Saw the end that was not yet. 
 
 All the while the City numbered, 
 
 l)ay by day, its pilgrims more; 
 All who came within it, slumbered, 
 By a wondrous magic cumbered. 
 
 Dreaming dreams of earth-heaven o'er. 
 Unto them camo God in dreams, 
 
 Angels, prophets came to them. 
 With a promise— thus it seems — 
 
 Of the whole world's diadem! 
 All should yet be theirs: each nation 
 
 "Keath their hot hands melt like snow; 
 But with them was true salvation ; 
 
 They the triumph-trumpshould blow. 
 
 Women lie; d lliem— to their wiles 
 Gave the « iichcry of their emiles, 
 
 Uearls and bauds on them bestowing, 
 For 'twas thus, and thus alone, 
 Should the heavenly bliss be known, 
 Aid gained the universal throne- 
 Such the revelation's showing. 
 
 Kow it was the reign of lust. 
 And Ihe reign ' f law was done;— 
 
 'Why should li> u'.* own lalchion rust? 
 Draw the stee and all ia won!' 
 
 'Treason!' on raciflc's shore, 
 
 'Treason !' by Atlantic tide 
 Rose, and met. And ro.se and met 
 
 Men with souls of hero pride. 
 
 Men in Truthsgreat battlctried, 
 O'er whose memories the past 
 A halo-light of glory cost, 
 
 I'romising new glory yet 
 
 In the far-oir Mormon valley. 
 
 Solitude claimed every home; 
 Those who dwelt therein departed, 
 Brokeu-beart ed— broken-hearted- 
 Whither shall they roam? 
 
 Like an exhalation. Error 
 
 Flames along the startled sky ; 
 
 Look, but do not look in terror— 
 'Tis decreed to Hash and die. 
 lTywall,July, 185.S. 
 
 Written for the Miscellany. 
 I'M WEARY. 
 
 I'm weary, very weary. 
 
 And burthened down with cares; 
 My <V>> s »'"' nights pass dreary, 
 
 And life few pleasures wears: 
 In my lifetime's early morning 
 
 When my heart was full of glee, 
 My hopes and aspirations were, 
 
 To tee poor Erin Iree. 
 
 Ouu weok another followed. 
 
 And year passed iil^er year, 
 Hope alter hope I've burrowed, 
 
 To sum the rising tear; 
 But still my country's weeping — 
 
 And still I hear her sigh, 
 I see the tear of sorrow leave 
 
 Thecryslul of here>e. 
 
 Oh Erin ! Jewel, mavourneen ! 
 
 Through the thickness of my gloom, 
 One hope my bosom's moving, 
 
 Bright and golden as the moon : 
 To see thy green old banner 
 
 'Neath the arch of heaven's sky. 
 In triumph rise above thy soua! 
 
 Then lay me down to die. 
 iikee, June 29lh, 18S8. 
 
 Written for the Irish Miscellany. 
 INK DROPS: 
 
 FROM Till: I'EN OF THE 'QUEEll COVE." 
 
 No. 10. — He enjoyethan Aquatic E.xcursion, 
 
 Rryan Walter Proctor, better known as Barry 
 Cornwall, sings of 
 
 'The sea, the sea, the open sea,' 
 and as I have a love for aquatic and piscatorial ex- 
 cursions, in company with the Old Dog and the 
 Mustang Colt, the former of whom has partially, 
 and the latter, fully recovered from the eflects of 
 'all tliose mouthed wounds' as Hotspur says with 
 regard to 'revolted Mortimer,' which they received 
 on the celebration of Independence, I went 'down 
 below,' one day last week, for the purpose of ob- 
 taining a little recreation from the cares of this 
 'work-day world' and endeavoring to di.spel an ennui 
 of some days duration. 
 
 As Laertes informs Ophelia — 
 
 'Our necessaries were embarked,' 
 and on setting foot on the deck of the yacht 'The 
 Ponderous Urick,' which we had freighted for the 
 occasion, the Mustang became delighted at her pro- 
 portions, and expressed a desire to 'buy the big 
 canoe,' at the same time offering the skipper a few 
 pieces of tin and a string of beads, a species of the 
 'wherc-with-air which 'does not go down,' in this 
 portion of the civilised world, in payment for her. 
 He examined her with the air of a connoisseur in 
 naval architectui e, and I verily believe that tlierc 
 was not a portion of her, from her run to her truck, 
 which did not undergo his personal scrutiny. In 
 'good sooth,' he was in this respect, like Ariel on 
 the King of Naples' ship — 
 
 'Now on the beak, 
 Kow in the waist, the deck, in every cabin.' 
 
 The Old Dog, who still experiences a slight trou- 
 ble in his 'caput' from the effects of his collision 
 with the liery serpent, was all this time performing 
 an incantation scene around the mainmast, and the 
 only inteligible words of his 'rune' that I could 
 glean, were 'foo-foo' and 'pah-pah.' The words, I 
 believe, mean something in the Cherokee language, 
 but for their purport, Mr. Editor, you must consult 
 Schoolcraft's Algic Researches. 
 
 Abreast of (Governor's Island. AVe partake large- 
 ly of a breakfast, the component parts of which 
 are 'lob xcouse,' 'plum duff," and other 'fixins,' 
 washed down by copious draughts of a nectar 
 yclept 'dog's nose, ' and which was brewed by the 
 Mustang out of equal parts of Hollands and 'hold 
 hale.' 
 
 We were rapidly gliding past Long Island head, 
 when a somewhat sudden lull of tlie wind left us 
 becalmed, and like the Ancient Mi.rinere 
 'We lay, nor breath nor motion, 
 
 As idle us a painted sliip 
 Upon a painted ocean.' 
 After 'whistling for a wind' some minutes, a gentle 
 breeze spning up and we soon passed by the Graves 
 on our way to the fishing ground. The peculiar 
 undulating motion of the craft here caiued the Old 
 
 Dog to hang his head over the side in a mo»t lach- 
 rymose manner, and to make u noise bearing a very 
 Htrong resemblance to that n-ade by a person after 
 having partaken of wine of antimony, ippecuc, or 
 any other emetic. 
 
 The 'galliaiit saylcur boys,' arc now busily en- 
 gaged in opening elams, which species of bivalves 
 are used as a bait to lure unsuspecting codlings from 
 their haunts in the coral groves. Ily the way, 
 Cleopatra, 'the «erpent of old Nile," had an exten- 
 sive idea of piscatbrial sports, if we may judge from 
 the following speech to her attendants: 
 
 'Give me mine angle,— We'll to the river: there 
 My music pla> ing far oil', I will betray 
 Tawney-tinu'd lislies; my bended hook shall pierce 
 Their slimy jaws; and us 1 draw them up, 
 I'll think them every one an Antony, 
 And say, Abba! you're caught.' 
 But we have arrived at the proper spot, and 
 over go the lines. While 'feeling for a bite,' I hear 
 a voice, 'by distance mellowed o'er the waters 
 sweep,' chanting the following verse of a song 
 written many years ago, and attributed to that 
 clerical wag, Ilev. Mather Byles: — 
 'Ye monsters of the mighty deep 
 
 Y'our Maker's praises spout ; 
 Uptrom the brine ye codlings peep. 
 And wag your tails about.' 
 Stop! 'By my hallidame' a nibble! It has re- 
 solved itself into a palpable bite. 1 have him. Like 
 Black Eyed Susan's Sweet William — 
 
 'The cord glides swiftly through my glowing hands, 
 And quick as lightning on the deck it stands;' 
 and what is it? A sculpin, 'by all the Gods on 
 high Olympus.' 
 
 A cry of 'man overboard!' now arrests my atten- 
 tion, and rushing to the bows, I behold the Mus- 
 tang floundering about in the 'drink,' and appa- 
 rently struggling with something which was attach- 
 ed to his line. One moment his head might be 
 seen cresting the waves, and anon he would sud- 
 denly disappear, coming up in a short time, like a 
 whale, for breath, and discharging large quantities 
 of saline water from his gills. Fearing that his 
 strength would become e.xhausted, I jumped into 
 the small boat, and seizing the boat-hook, twined it 
 into his 'scalp lock' and by almost superhuman ex- 
 ertions succeeded in dragging him on board, still 
 clinging with the greatest tenacity to his 'hook and 
 line, bob and sinker.' We draw in the line, and at- 
 tached to it is a catfish of gigantic proportions. No 
 sooner did the Mustang behold his prize, than he 
 commenced a series of the most extravagant antics. 
 Approaching his face aather too close to the ani- 
 mal, however, in one of his capers, the beast, who 
 has biting propensities similar to those of a snapp- 
 ing turtle, 'shut pan' on him, to borrow o military 
 expression, and made a meal of half fhe Mustang's 
 nose. Of course we could not prosecute the tish 
 for mayhem, so 'o \ u ;ish him we threw him over- 
 board! The Mustane has been fitted with a patent 
 nose, but he informs me 'tis a difficult matter to 
 blow it. He thinks the catfish was a 'oncer' and 
 that 'what he knows he 'nose.' 
 
 Having caught fish enough, we had our chowder, 
 and the Old Dog, becoming delighted with the ap- 
 pearance of some live lobsters, which were in a do- 
 ry close to, we bought one for his amusement. He 
 was incautiously playing with, and perhaps irritat- 
 ing it, when one of the large claws closed with a 
 crash on his dexter hand, and in a thought bereft 
 him of four fingers. Symptoms of lock-jaw setting 
 in, we crowded all sail for the city, and having 
 placed the patient under proper medical treatment 
 I sought my couch, and like those 'brave foercen' 
 James Fitzjames tmd Koderick Dhu — 
 'Slept until the morning bright 
 Checkered the cast with streaks of light.' 
 
 Of what noted poem was Adam an exemplifica- 
 tionJ 'Nothing to wear.' 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 879 
 
 I 
 
 ■Written for the Slisctlluuy. 
 WALKS AND TALKS. 
 
 BY VERNON. 
 
 *As I walked by myself, 
 I talked to myself, 
 
 And thus myself said to me.' 
 
 Afternoon at Ivywnll. While the sultry .sunbeams 
 yet fall over the greater part of my garden, here is a 
 recess of perfect shade, wherein a balcony offers rest 
 and coolness. The south wind visits it, the trees 
 wave over it, and the 'ivy green' clambers toils 
 iron railing. AVith my wife, and newspaper, and 
 cat, behold me on this balconj' — 'my custom al- 
 ways in the afternoon.' A little way within the 
 casement, and easily reached, stands a goblet, brim- 
 ming with a fragrant lemonade, well guarded by 
 cigars. Thus, after my task of the day, I choose to 
 solace ' my own self,' conversing with my other 
 self, or reading to her pleasant things from ' The 
 States,' varied by occasional admiration of the atti 
 tudes and intelligence of ' Sam,' the cat aforesaid, 
 by incidental sips of the icy nectar, or patriotic puffs 
 of tlie American leaf. 
 
 The sound of slowly-rolling wheels approaches. 
 For awhile I can see nothing, so dense the foliage 
 toward the street, but anon both my wife and self 
 e.-iclaim : ' It is Kitty !' 
 
 Now be it understood that 'Kitty ' is a venerable 
 ■white mare, as generally known and welcomed as 
 the Mayor of Washington. Even the quiescent 
 Sam looks up, at the tidings, then gets up, thrice 
 w:aves his ample tail, by way of salutation, and ac- 
 tively descends to the door ; for Sam is ever polite 
 to the coming or departing guest, who may have 
 won his regard. Meantime, Kitty comes so quiet- 
 ly to the carriage-step, and so quietly stops there, 
 that it is difficult to decide at what moment that 
 motion ceased, or, indeed, if she moved at all, or 
 stopped at all. But Sam reassures us, for he bounds 
 toward the gate. Kitty is at the stone, with down- 
 cast head, as usual; calmly standing in the shade, 
 and in the most dreamy of her moods. The very 
 flies seem to appreciate her pacific disposition, and 
 ' disturb not her slumbers.' So Kitty is there, and 
 Kitty is attached to the old, plain-looking carriage, 
 without a top ; and in the carriage is seated a tall, 
 somewhat bent form of a plain-looking gentleman, 
 in the act of lowering an umbrella. Our visiter is 
 ' Ion.' Who has not heard of him ? AVho has not, 
 for many years past, read his letters, so clear, so 
 strong, so full of political information and wisdom ? 
 The ' power behind the throne,' who knows not to 
 what extent Ion has influenced the destiny of 'our 
 country ? Veteran statesmen seek him in the hour 
 ot doubt and dread, anxious to obtain supplies from 
 his great store of acquired and self elaborated knowl- 
 edge. Yet this man, so influential, so trusted, how 
 simple and composed his manner and daily conver- 
 sation ! How little, at first sight, would a stranger 
 dream of the comprehensive intellect in State af- 
 fairs ; how little of the warm-heartedness, generosi- 
 ty, hospitality, and lovely child-like character of 
 Ion ! 
 
 In the neighborhood of Ivywall is a large square, 
 partly enclosed by a high fence, partly by a hedge 
 of osage-orange. Among the trees within it, just 
 peep out the roof and chimneys of a cottage. 
 This place is ' Strawberry Knoll,' and the cottage 
 is the home of Ion. 
 
 Let us enter the arched gateway. Roused by the 
 click of the latch, several small dogs, but none ol 
 'low degree,' spring playfully toward us. Chici 
 among these for diminutivcncss and grace, and the 
 pet of the establishment and all visiters, is ' Dandy,' 
 in a suit of shining sable, touched with brown. 
 They give joyous note of our coming. 
 
 A broad, straight path, with trees, roses, bowers, 
 on either side, conducts to the dwelling, which is 
 but one story in height, rambling, and quite exten- 
 
 sive. A cool grotto is near, overgrown with ivy 
 and other plants. Fragments of statuary, from 
 classic lands, lie in the ground, half concealed by 
 the tall grass, by flowers, and by ivy. Up one of 
 the grand old trees runs ivy, clothing the rough 
 bark in beauty and poetry. A densely covered 
 bower of honeysuckle and grape vines begins a 
 short distance from the cottage, spanning the path, 
 and extending to the ample porch, where great rus- 
 tic arm-chairs at once express welcome and com- 
 fort. A lamp hangs from the ceiling of this open 
 hall. A door to the right admits to a charming lit- 
 tle room, of curious form, tastefully furnished, 
 where Ion may often be found, surrounded by pyr- 
 amids of newspapers from all quarters, to most of 
 which he is himself a contributor. Here the favor- 
 ed visiter may meet the lady of Strawberry Knoll — 
 a lady, indeed; in whose presence one may appre- 
 ciate the full influence of dignity, kindness and re- 
 finement. 
 
 Back of this reception room, is another 'like un- 
 to it,' the dining apartment, papered in dark oaken 
 panels. Here, at the roiuid table, has been many a 
 feast of body and soul, when the rich board was 
 proud of a circle of sages, statesmto, sculptors, ar- 
 tists, poets and wits. The Secretaries and Attor- 
 neys General of several Cabinets have met here 
 without formality; 'most potent, grave and rever- 
 end' Senators, here assembled, have held learned 
 debate on mighty affairs, and united in praise of 
 the e.xquisite viands and rosy wine; while Members 
 of the House, perhaps with more spirit, and certain- 
 ly with more noise, have aided the flight of the joy- 
 ous hours. The -bold, yet modest; thundering, yet 
 genial Dimitry ('Alexander' the Great) — whose 
 brain is a Babel of languages, without the confu- 
 sion — here has elevated his heroic voice and defiant 
 arm, as if chalenging the world to battle. Thomas 
 Francis Meagher and John Savage, brothers in 
 heart and companions in noble deeds for freedom 
 and for Erin, here have renewed the stiuggling 
 past, and prophecied the glorious future. And all 
 the while sat Kingman, the placid Ion, listening 
 with beaming countenance, now and then speak- 
 ing a few words, so slowly, so almost drowsily, yet 
 words of power, falling heavily when they would 
 oppose, lightly and soothingly as the dew when ap- 
 proving. Again a change came over him; his 
 whole form was excited, his face glowed with the 
 highest pleasure, and language, full and bright and 
 swift as the arrowy Rhine, and abounding in classic 
 recollections, displayed his energy of heart and 
 mind. 
 
 Born in Massachusetts, Mr. Kingman graduated 
 at Brown University, Rhode Island, and edited a 
 newspaper in Boston. For several years he resided 
 in Virginia. His friends are of all parts of the 
 Union. 
 
 We have time for only a few words more about 
 Strawberry Knoll. From the dining-room we en- 
 ter the large parlor, where paintings and antique 
 busts and statues attract and well reward our at- 
 tention; then pass to the library, with its collec- 
 tion of rare books and curious military weapons. 
 But even here, alluring as it is, we cannot tarry. 
 Other rooms, equally tasteful and elegant, must be 
 imagined. An addition to the cottage has just been 
 erected, two stories high, containing delightful 
 apartments. This is not yet occupied. In anoth- 
 er part of the garden is a tower, with bath room, 
 breakfast room, and observatory. The view from 
 this height is varied and beautifu', similar to that 
 from the belvedere of Ivywall. Excellent fruit and 
 richest flowers in the open air and in the green- 
 house, add to the luxury and loveliness of this re- 
 treat and a visiter would see at a glance the ap- 
 propriateness of its name — Strawberry KnoU. 
 
 As we approach the gate again, we hear a rust- 
 ling among the bushes. Our friend, the gentle Sav- 
 age, issues- forth. He brings a pretty rose-bud. 
 
 Well do I know for whom! — The fair Avonia! Yes 
 for the charming young actress, Avonia Jones. 
 Confess, Sir Bard! The offering, too, will only be 
 a proper one and a natural: — 
 
 'Sweets to tlie eweetl' 
 Admit, moreover — for everybody says so— that 
 Avonia will represent the heroine of a tragedy to be 
 produced next winter. Fortunate and thrice happy 
 Bard, to write so well, and have your verse spoken 
 by the beautiful queen of the drama! 
 
 Take the following couplet into careful keeping, 
 till you shall experience its truth: — 
 I thought the words were mhie: — fond thought! 'tis flown! 
 Avouia's music made them all her owul 
 
 HOW PAT TRICKED THE JEW PEDLAR. 
 
 An Irishman was at one time coming from the Fens, 
 in England, (a certain part of that country where the 
 harvest comes in earlier than in other parts,) with five 
 sovereigns in his pocket — the reward of his summer 
 labor. His habiliments were such as are worn by the 
 miijoriiy of his countrymen on such a mission, namely, 
 the dilapidated remains of an old hat on which tlio 
 marks of a blow from a shillelagh might be visibly 
 seen, and banded with a hay ribbon, sat comically on 
 his pericranium; his coat, though much older, was re- 
 markably safe from the ravages of old Father Time, 
 save the points at the elbows, which were somewhat 
 fractured; his unmentionables bore a strong relation- 
 ship to the other parts of his attire which I have al- 
 ready described, and his hose, though well ventilated, 
 with their extremes hidden in a pair of heavy brogans, 
 were of remote antiquity. Thus might be seen our 
 hero with his hook thrown carelessly ov. r his dexter 
 shoulder, cased in the same material as his hat, strut- 
 
 ing along on the road from L to E . 
 
 As it was the first time Pat ever left home for the 
 purpose of going to England to the 'harvest,' he re- 
 solved to be as careful as possible in money matters. 
 Therefore, he was bound to keep as little change as 
 convenient about him, as will be seen by the sequel. 
 The inner man requiring a little refreshment, Pat 
 walked into a respectable tavern and called for some- 
 thing to eat, to which order the landlord condescend- 
 ed. When Pat was fooling the bill, he eccentrically 
 remarked to the great astonishment of mine host, 
 that — 
 
 'He wotUd leave what change was' coming to him 
 out of the gold piece (a sovereign,) till such time as he 
 would call again.' 
 
 The reluctant landlord remarked there were so 
 many travellers, calling and putting up at the hotel, it 
 would be out of his power to recoguiie him.' 
 
 'Well, then,' says Pat, 'do yon see this caubeen (old 
 hat) on my head?' 
 
 'I do,' replied the landlord, looking Pat wildly in 
 the face. 
 
 'Very well,' says Pat, 'when I twirl this caubeen on 
 my head three times, it will be suflicient notice for you 
 that it's me in it.' 
 
 The landlord, though not seeing his motive for de- 
 positing his change in his hands, acquiesced to Pal- 
 rick's request. The latter then strode off unceremoni- 
 ously, with a short pipe placed in an angle of his 
 mouth, leaving the landlord to contemplate upon Pat's 
 simplicity. In this manner Put deposited his five sov- 
 ereigns, or at least what change he had, for lie was 
 sure to change one whenever he fell like eating, in 
 
 some respectable tavern, on his journey to E . 
 
 After the money being all deposited and not obtain- 
 ing any lucrative employment, which was the greatest 
 object Pat had in taking the aforesaid route, he began 
 to think about his returning, when he was accosted by 
 a Jewish pedlar, carrying with him a pack and a small 
 hand-trunk. After the latter interrogated Pat as to 
 his destination, he remarked that in seeing no chance 
 of doing any business in his line, (for the place was 
 very solitary where they met,) he should like Pat to 
 accompany him to the town of E , to which re- 
 quest the latter complied, remarking at the same time, 
 that it was his determination to go that route, before 
 
380 
 
 IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 he met the pcdlcr, but would jounu-y with him for 
 the sake of companionship. 
 
 The reader is lUrendy aware that this route is the 
 one Pat already travelled, and seeing he could get 
 no work from any of the farmer's on the road us he 
 came along, and being out of money, he was, deter- 
 mined to retrace his steps as was shown above. 
 
 Our travellers shortened the way cosiderably, by 
 telling long yarns, anecdotes, &c., for the Jew, as 
 pedlers always are, was very loiiuacious, and of 
 course. Put, for you never knew an Irishman that 
 wouldn't crack a joke and tell a plcas:uit story as 
 well as other men. liut to proceed to our narrative ; | 
 when our brace reached the above town, the Jew 
 felt some like nourishing the inner man, but be- j 
 fore he had time to consult Pat about it, an invita- 
 tion was extended to him by the latter, to walk in 
 to have some refreshments, of course Pat went into 
 the last tavern he deposited his change in. After 
 both partook of necessary stimulcnts, Pat asked 
 the landlord what was the bill, giving the old hat 
 on his head, at the same time a twirl or two. 
 
 • Oh ! oh !' says the latter, ' there is nothing to 
 pay, but change coming to you," passing Pat his 
 change. 
 
 This was sulficient to draw the attention of the 
 Jew, who asked Pat, when they got again on the 
 highway, the nature of what he \vitnc>*scd ; the lat- 
 ter, with a smile in the corner of his hazel colored 
 eyes, remarked he would solve th; whole mystery 
 by and by. The pedler, however, was fully con- 
 vinced that there was some virtue in Pat's old hat ; 
 for the next place, after calling for refreshments, in- 
 stead of paying, he again got change back from the 
 landlord. Putting up at the next tavern for the 
 night, the one where Pat deposited his third sover- 
 eign, and enjoying themselves in draughts of ale, 
 smoking, &c., the old hat was reverted to by the 
 Jew. 
 
 'Now do you know what it is," rejoined Pat, 'if 
 you have, Mr. Jew, any doubt respecting the virtue 
 of the eaubecn, take and put it on your head, if you 
 don't have any objection, and step up t> the land- 
 lord, and ask what is to pay, at the same time give 
 the caubeen a twirl, or two, and if you do not get 
 back change instead of paying money, you may call 
 me ' Davy." The pedler put the old hat, according 
 to Pat's orders,' on his head, and proceeded to speak 
 to the landlord, asking what was his bill against 
 him and his companion, giving his old hat a twirl. 
 
 ' Oh ! oh !' replies the latter, ' there is nothing to 
 pay, but change comir.g to you,' passing the Jew 
 what change out of the sovereign was due to Pat. 
 
 ■\Vith the greatest exultation the Jew went to the 
 latter, and demanded what he would take for the 
 old hat. 
 
 ' I have silks of the very best quality in that pack, 
 and jewels of all description in that small hand 
 trunk you sec yonder, all will I give to you for your 
 old hat,' quoth the Jew. 
 
 ' The caubeen, you mean to buy ?' says Pat' ' no, 
 sir, double the amount of goods you possess would 
 not purchase this caubeen from me ; for sure,' says 
 Pat, ' it's in the family since the time of the flood, 
 all my ancestors have worn it before me, so you see, 
 Mr. Jew, I could part with it for love or money.' 
 
 ' Strange then,' says the pedler, 'you are so shab- 
 by in your habiliments." 
 
 ' True, and very true,' says Pat, ' but you see, sir, 
 that the antiquity of the caubeen is such, that it's 
 appearance looks somewhat ridiculous, you know, 
 thtn, sure enough, that 1 must wear other regiment- 
 als to go with it.' 
 
 Your explanation is very good,' replies the Jew, 
 ' but would not a change in your appearance relish 
 considerable to your desire, for I hope you do not 
 mean to walk in that apparel through the residue of 
 your life.' 
 
 Pat hesitated some time, and then with a deep 
 sigh, as though he was about parting with some- 
 
 thing dear to him through life, replied he would 
 trade for novelty sake providing that at the end of 
 five years, . if they should happen to meet, they 
 should exchange again. 
 
 The Jew very willingly complied, and agreed with 
 Pat's suggestion and placed the old hat on his liead, 
 giving Pat his, and all his jewels and silks, amount- 
 ing to the value of thousands of pounds sterling. 
 
 After making their trade, seemingly more to the 
 satisfaction of the Jew than to Pat, they both jogged 
 along together, the former uneasy to try the next 
 experiment on the virtue of the old hat. His ex- 
 pectations were realized to his great joy and satis- 
 faction, when he and Pat went into the tavern where 
 the latter deposited his second sovereign, and of 
 course got his change from the landlord, when the 
 old hat was tw irled by the Jew. 
 
 After making their exit from the tavern, they both 
 agreed to separate ; Pat with heavy heart spoke of 
 many reminiscences connected witn his caubeen-, 
 while the poor deluded Jew was highly pleased with 
 his bargain. 
 
 Going in different directions, we will now leave 
 Pat to take care of his precious goods, and see how 
 the pedler succeeded. Proceeding with remarkable 
 haste to the the next town, he stepped into the first 
 tavern where I'at had deposited his change. Call- 
 ing here for some ale, and by twirling his old hat 
 at the landlord, immediately the latter gave him 
 change, and the Jew left swearing to himself that 
 he would not give back the old hat for any amount 
 of money. 
 
 Journeying along, contemplating on his recent 
 good fortune, he was overtaken ■ by a gentleman 
 mounted on a splended looking horse. The gentle- 
 man accosted the worthy Jew in this manner — 
 
 ' Good day, sir.' 
 
 ' Good day to you, sir.' 
 
 'It seems,' says the gentleman, 'that you area 
 traveller.' 
 
 'Yea,' replied the Jew, 'that was my former 
 business, for sir, I will give you to understand that 
 I was one of the richest jewellers that ever peddled 
 an article in that line, and being tired of that way 
 of living, 1 had the good fortune to meet with an 
 Irishman with whom I made a good speculation.' 
 
 ' How was that ?' says the gentleman, who was 
 no other than Pat, anxious to know how the Jew 
 felt about his caubeen. 
 
 ' Y'ou see this old hat ?' said the Jew. 
 
 Pat answered in the affirmative. 
 
 ' Well,' says he, ' I bought this old hat for what 
 I was worth then, and now, sir, I would not give it 
 back again, for treble the value.' 
 
 ' There must be some virtue in the old thing,' re- 
 plied Pat, with a smile, • oeside its appeaiance, for 
 it is really grotesque like.' 
 
 'This, I admit," replied the Israelite, 'but, sir, it 
 possesses such extraordinary virtue, sir, that by 
 tw irling it once or twice on your head, when, aftei; 
 satiating yourself with the best and most luxurious 
 things of the season, in whatever public house you 
 chance to call you will always be sure to get change 
 from the landlord, instead of paying any.' 
 
 ' Wonderful ! indeed," replied Pat. 
 
 About this time they reached, the town of H . 
 
 ' Well, well," says Pat, ' if you would not have 
 any objection, I would like to have you try its vir- 
 tue in my presence.' 
 
 The Jew with pleasure acquiesced. Both stepped 
 into the tavern and called for some ale, and after 
 quenching their thirst, the landlord was interrogated 
 by the Jew to know what was to ])By, giving at the 
 same time, a well known twirl to his old hat. 
 
 The former quietly told him the amount. 
 
 ' Ah, but man,' says the Jew, ' what's to pay r' 
 giving anothei twirl to the hat. 
 
 Again the landlord told him what it was, and 
 again did the Jew ask the same question, keeping 
 I the old hat in motion on his bald pate. 
 
 Pat, with all his seeming gravity, could scarcely 
 resist laughing when the landlord ordered the poor 
 Jew to be put out, the latter still asking the ques- 
 tion 'what's to pay," and twirling theoldhat rapid- 
 ly on his head. 
 
 ' That man must be a maniac,' said the landlord, 
 ' I'll get the police to take charge of him." 
 
 The poor Jew was accordingly taken in custody, 
 and put in an asylum. 
 
 Pat paid the reckoning, and, after doing so,mount- 
 ed his horse and rode off. 
 
 There might be seen by the casual observer, a 
 magnificent mansion built on an eminence sloping 
 gradually from the bank or verge of the romantic 
 river Shannon, in Ireland, surrounded with groves 
 and plantations, variegated with evejgreens. In 
 this mansion, Patrick O'Shaughnessy, Esq., the 
 subject of the above story, had his residence, all of 
 which he obtained by his old caubeen. 
 
 
 From the Louj*tircu Jourual 
 THE CARPET AND ITS HISTORY. 
 
 One of the most pleasing characteristics of our 
 times is the great inteligence as well as learning, 
 science and taste, which are brought to operate up- 
 on ordinary pursuits and callings. The exercise of 
 the higher faculties of the mind is no longer re- 
 stricted to the comparatively few arenas of the 
 colleges and schools, but find scope at the work- 
 shop and forge, in the garden, and in the farm- 
 yard, and not least, in the vast and complicated 
 operations of the manufactory. No matter what 
 the kind of manufacture be, we shall find pcisons 
 who have brought an amount of inteligence to bear 
 upon it which excites the suiijrise and wonder of 
 those who are accustomed to tliink that taste and 
 learning, science and art, are the peculiar province 
 and property of the favored few. 
 
 The strict application of the word carpet does 
 render illegitimate the use ot the term in a wider 
 sense in discoursing upon its original signification, 
 for here let it be premised that the carpets and tap- 
 estry of ancient and mediaeval times cannot be sep- 
 arately treated — the frequent transposition of the 
 terms and the variety of the purposes to whith 
 these articles were mutually applied quite frustra- 
 ting such a distinction. 
 
 Concerning the process among the ancients we 
 have no precise information, as indeed, none is re- 
 quired — the weaving of carpels and tapestry being 
 then a slow work of the needle for the delicate 
 hands of an Helen or a Penelope. Of Helen is 
 somewhat sagaciously remarked by Athena?us, that 
 her fondness for this employment proved her tem- 
 perance and modesty. King Lemuel, also in set- 
 ting iorth the character of a virtuous woman, sJ\s 
 that — 'She maketh herself coverings of tapestry.' 
 It was an ancientClialdcan gossip that Sardanapalus 
 attired in female garb, was wont to card purple 
 wool for his females who wrought carpets for the 
 royal household. 
 
 In Greece, however, the carding of wool was the 
 more \isual occupation of slaves, as in the 'States- 
 man,' of Plato, where elaborate analysis of the 
 arts of weaving and felting are given. According 
 to Pliny, the thick, flocky wool has been esteemed 
 for the manufacture of carpets from the remotest 
 ages. Early allusion to the shuttle is made In con- 
 nection with this art, and it appears to have been 
 ! used alternately in the same web with the cmbroi- 
 ! dery needle, if not identical therewith. 
 
 The several parts of the loom apparatus in active 
 operation are mentioned by Ovid: — 
 
 'The web is tied around the beam; the sley sep- 
 arates the warp; the woof is inserted in the middle 
 with sharp shuttles, which the fingers hurry along, 
 and being drawn within the warp, the teeth notch- 
 ed in the moving sley strike it.' 
 
 But whether this poet be guilty of anachronism 
 in placing a boxwood shuttle in the hands of Miner- 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 381 
 
 va we cannot determine. From his description, 
 she was challenged by Arachne, a Colophonian 
 ^^■oman, who was very expert in weaving tapestry, 
 to a trial of skill. Uer father Idnion, used to dye 
 the soaking wool in Phocian purple, and her son 
 Closter was the accredited inventor of the spindle. 
 Such was the magnificence of her embroideries, and 
 so graceful her manner of working, that the nymphs 
 hovered around her loom to admire. Minerva ac- 
 cepted the chalenge, but the result yielded a doubt- 
 ful victory, whereat the goddess was dulj' incensed, 
 and a scuffie ensuing, -V.rachne hanged herself and 
 was transformed into a spider. The story of Mi- 
 nerva's vengeance is thus recorded: — 
 
 'A great fly-.shuttle in her hand sbe took, 
 And more than once Arachue's forehead struck,- 
 The unhappy girl, impatient of tlie wrong, 
 Her injured person from the breast-beam liung.' 
 
 We find the carpets of the ancients to have been 
 for the most part beautifully colored and inwrought 
 with various figures. The carpets of Babylon were 
 particularly extravagant, having represeptations of 
 anmials both natural and fabulous embroidered on 
 them. Egypt emblazoned her rugs with hieroglyphs 
 and portraits of her kings, and her tapestries were 
 bespangled with the constellations of heaven and the 
 twelve signs of the zodiac. Plautus notices that 
 the Alexandrine tapestries are said to have been fig- 
 ured over with beasts and shells. Sophron too, 
 speaks of carpets embroidered with figures of birds 
 as of great value; and it was in Gaul they were first 
 made w-ith chequers and tartans. Entire histories 
 and stories from mythology were w-oven in carpets. 
 Homer discovers Helen herself weaving the history 
 of the Trojan wars. Catullus makes mention of 
 carpets used to decorate the wedding feast of Pele- 
 us, representing with wondrous art, the story of 
 Theseus and Ariadne. 
 
 The higher classes of Rome seem to have been 
 considerable patrons of the carpet workers of that 
 period. Purple carpets were generally sought af- 
 ter by the wealthy patricians of Home. MetuUus 
 Scipio, in the accusation which he brought against 
 Cato, stated that even in his time Babylonian cov- 
 ers for couches, were selling for 800,000 sesterces, or 
 £4,600; aud these in the time of the Emperor Nero 
 had risen to four millions, or £23,000. Lollia Pau- 
 lina, the great beauty of Rome in the time of Calig- 
 uly, rendered herself notorious by the enormous 
 prices given for her rich Babylonian carpets and 
 coverlets. 
 
 Commg down to more recent times, we are told 
 that the Florentines carried on a large import trade 
 with England; so that, with the commencement of 
 the fifteenth century, this country received regular 
 supplies of eastern merchandise. For although car- 
 pets were introduced so early as the Crusades, they 
 were not yet articles of English commerce. Even 
 in the sixteenth century, we meet with few, the 
 Norman practice of spreading rushes on the floor 
 being then generally prevalent. 
 
 Aerlin, a French physician, who visited England 
 in the reign of Edward VI., relates of the London 
 taveni-keepers that ' they strew hay over the floor 
 and place pillows and tapestries underneath their 
 travellers.' And Lievinius Lemnius about the same 
 time remarks, ' The pavements are sprinkled upon, 
 and floors cooled w-ith springing- water, and then 
 strewed w-ith sedge, and the parlors trimmed up with 
 greene boughes, freshe herbes, and vyne leaves, 
 ■which things no nation do more decently, more 
 trimmerly, nor more sightly then they do in Eng- 
 land ; and besyde this, the neate cleanliness, the 
 pleasante and delightful furniture in every part of 
 household, wonderfully rejoyced mce.' We get a 
 very difterent account of the same custom in a let- 
 ter of Erasmus to Franciscus, physician to Cardinal 
 Wolsey, where he ascribes the plague and sweating 
 ►sickness, then prevalent in England, to the filth and 
 slovenliness of this usage. 'The floors,' he writes, 
 
 ' commonly of clay, strewed with rushes, under 
 which lies unmolested a i)utrid mixture of beer, 
 stinking fragments of food, and all sorts of nastiness.' 
 
 In connection with this, it nuiy not be uninter- 
 esting to quote a further illustration from an inci- 
 dent occurring when Erasmus was at the dinner- 
 table of Sir Thomas More: — 'A while after,' nar- 
 rates his daughter Margaret, ' Genelius asked leave 
 to see Erasmus, his signet-ring, -«'hich he handed 
 down to him. In passing it back, William, who 
 was occupied in carving a crane, handed it so neg- 
 ligentlie that it felle to the ground. I never saw 
 such a face as Erasmus made when 'twas picked out 
 from the rushes ; and yet oiirs are renewed almost 
 daylie, which manie think over nice. He took it 
 gingerlie in his fair woman-like hands, and washed 
 and wiped it before he put it on which escaped not 
 my step-mother's displeased notice.' 
 
 The first tapestry manufactory in France of w-hich 
 we have any authentic record, was that established 
 by an edict of the castle of Paris, 1295. Henry IV. 
 also brought weavers from Flanders to carry on the 
 manufacture in Paris. The town of Poictiers and 
 Arras, in the thirteenth century, likewise contained 
 large manufactories ; but these are now no more, 
 and the most ancient still in existence is the nation- 
 al manufactory at Gobelin. Louis XIV. purchased 
 the b)|jlding then known as La Follie Gobelin for 
 the purpose of its establishment. It was here that 
 the brothers Gobelin, descendants of the secretary 
 to the Pope Pius II., exercised their craft of dying, 
 a knowledge of which they were said to have bor- 
 rowed from the Evil One. Other three manufac- 
 tories arose shortly afterwards ; one at Aubusson, 
 another at Felletin, and a third at Beauvais. To 
 this day th»?y continue their ingenious but arduous 
 work, which, partly owing to the low price of labor, 
 but mainly in consequence of government encour- 
 agement, is no inconsiderable manufacture. ^ 
 
 Efi'orts towards its introduction on a similar e.x- 
 tensive scale into England have been so many fail- 
 ures, attributable to various causes. King James 
 I. established a manufactory at Mortlake, in Surrey, 
 under the superintendence of Sir Francis Crane. It 
 was here that King",Charles II. afterwards caused 
 Raphael's cartoons to be executed in tapestry. 
 
 Carpets on the principle of those of Persia and 
 Turkey, ivith a tufted pile, are now commonly made 
 in Europe. In France they have attained consider- 
 able excellence. Originally confined to Paris, they 
 are now manufactured in Amiens, Turcoing, Nismes, 
 and other places. England has also produced some 
 of the best specimens. The Society of Arts was 
 amffng the first to encourage the introduction of 
 this manufacture. Very shortly after its institution 
 it offered premiums for the best imitation Turkey 
 carpets, and thus directed considerable attention to 
 the matter. The Duke of Cumberland, about, the 
 same time, lent his patronage to a manufactory of 
 such carpets ; and in the year 1775, Mr. AVhitty in- 
 troduced the manufacture into Axminster, whence 
 the fabric derives its name. The Axminster carpet 
 is now a matter of history, as it ceased to be fabric- 
 ated there several years ago. A\'ilton, however, well 
 sustains the character of this manufacture, the su- 
 periority of its productions entitling it to the high- 
 est credit. AVilton claims the first introduction of 
 carpet w-eaving into England, and this is the legend 
 concerning it : — 
 
 It seems that the Earls of Pembroke, desirous of 
 improving the condition of a small class of weavers 
 in Wilton, induced a skilful French carpet-weaver, 
 named Anthony Daff'eny to bo smuggled over from 
 France in a sugar-sask, for the purpose of commu- 
 cating a knowledge of his handicraft, which he did. 
 Within the last fifty years we ohscrve a very great ad- 
 vance in the fabrication of the Anglo-Persian carpets ; 
 nor must we omit commendably to notice the Scoto- 
 Pcrsian carpets of Kilmarnock and Edinburgh. This 
 is now a national manufacture of no small amount al- 
 
 though the introduction of other fabrics has operated 
 against a more extended use, and limited the produc t 
 to a smaller and perhaps a more select demand. 
 
 The three-ply carpet explains Its own condition. It 
 is simply difl'erent from the ingrain by being composed 
 of three distinct webs instead of two, and having the 
 advantage of a third solid color in the figure. To Mr. 
 Thomas Morton, of Kilmarno<-k, we owe the invention 
 of this triple carpet fabric. This ingenious mechanic, 
 among many improvements, also introduced the re- 
 volving barrel studded with pins to act instead of the 
 drawboy in regulating the pattern. Before the intro- 
 duction into England of the .laquard apparatus, this 
 proved very serviceable, but it is now entirely thrown 
 aside. 
 
 The Venetian and Dutch carpetings, as they are 
 called, are of a simple character, and of less capacity 
 for design. The Venetian consists mainly of a heavy 
 weft shoot, and is a weigh -y but a soft material. In 
 small diced patterns alone does it look well. The 
 Dutch, originally a cow-hair texture, is now made of 
 the lower qualities of wool ; it is also a single web, and 
 admits of nothing beyond srripes and cheques in its 
 design. We need not observe that these have little 
 connection with the places whence they derive their 
 name. 
 
 In treating of the Brussels carpet, we revert to the 
 capitol of Belgium to find little trace of such manu- 
 facture there, although its name corresponds to the 
 place of its origin. It is perhaps a fabric more thor- 
 oughly English in its present manufacture than of any 
 other country. 
 
 About the year 1735, we find the town of Kidder- 
 minster, hitherto famous fot broadcloth, becoming the 
 nursery of the English Brussels carpet. The progress 
 of the manufacture in this town has been slow but 
 steady ; and after the lapse of a hundred years we find 
 it, in 1 838, containing about 1 ,865 Brussels hand-looms, 
 besides a smaller proportion of ingrains and common 
 qualities, giving employment to upwards of 4,000 hands. 
 That was twenty years ago ; and since then the intro- 
 duction of the power-looms has caused many hand- 
 frames to cease ; and matters being thus in a transi- 
 tion state, there is a dlfiiculty in fairly computing sta- 
 tistics. A manufacturer may have so many hundred 
 looms, a considerable portion of which may be held ia 
 abeyance while he is introducing power. In 1S51 there 
 were upwards of 2,000 Brussels hand-looms in Kidder- 
 minster, besides many in Halifax, Durham, Kilmar- 
 nock, and districts in the north of England and the 
 south of Scotland. 
 
 One of the most remarkable improvements in carpet 
 manufacture was the invention of Mr. Richard Why- 
 tock, of Edinburgh, by which the woolen threads are 
 dyed before weaving with such exactness and nicety 
 that, when woven, each spot and shade of every indi- 
 vidual thread falls into its appropriate place in the 
 pattern, producing the perfect design without the com- 
 plicated and cumbrous arrangement of bobbins and the 
 constant intervention of the weaver's fingers. This is 
 a most surprising invention, and the manner in which 
 it is carried out is equally wonderful. 
 
 There are more carpets used in the kingdom of Great 
 Britain than on the whole continent of Europe; and 
 there are more used in the United Slates than in Great 
 Britain. Most of the carpets manufactured in Eng- 
 land are copied by nnmufacturers in America, and sold 
 at a lower price, while, at the same time, they are 
 equally good. 
 
 Obigin of Free and Acceptkd Masons.— Bands 
 of architects and workmen of different nations, who" 
 had been in the habit' of travelling over Europe in 
 search of employment, were incorporated by the Pope 
 towards the close of the twelfth century, and were at 
 the same time endowed with various inportant privi- 
 leges, under (he name of Free and Accepted Masons 
 This fraternity was known in Ireland and Great 
 Bruam, and erected the principal churches of both 
 countries. 
 
382 
 
 IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 LITERATURE. 
 
 A correspondent m-ks for inrurmntion concerning 
 'the best edition of Scott's novels which arc published, 
 and whicli wc slioiild recommend liini to purcliasc' 
 The best edition of the novels of Sir Walter, has been 
 considered to be that publisheii by Adam Uhick & t'o., 
 of Edinliurvrh, anil compri.icd in fortv-cij-ht volumes. 
 It is an expensive work, and the price of it would be 
 far greater than our correspondcflt would feel justified 
 in giving. An edition, equal, if not superior to this, 
 however, is now in the course of publication, by 
 Messrs. Ticknor & Fields of this city, who issue two 
 volumes monthly, and at a very low-price. It is beau- 
 tifully got up, primed on clear white paper, and with 
 unexceptionable letterpress; the engravings, two of 
 which accompany each volume, are simdar to those 
 in Black's edition, and are fine works of art. We 
 cannot recommend the work too highly, and consider 
 it the very lK>st edition of ibe writings of the 'great 
 unknown' ever produced in this country, and fully 
 ei^unl to anything ever got up on the other side of 
 the water. Any single novel may be purchased at a 
 time, thus bringing it within the means of all, whereas 
 other editions of the work have to be )]urchased com- 
 plete, thus making a large drain on the pockets of a 
 poor man. On the whole, the best investment our 
 correspondent could make would be in Messrs. Tick- 
 nor & Fields' edition. 
 
 Wc have received the 'Seventh Annual Report of 
 the Boston Young Men's Christian Association,' with 
 the by-laws, list of officers, members, &c. The book 
 is published from the rooms of the association, and 
 represents the society as being in a highly flourishing 
 condition. 
 
 A MOVKET ANn THE PiTCHER PLANT. — Two 
 brothers, Englishmen, were once travelling on foot 
 from Dondra Head, the southern extremity of the Is- 
 lan I of Ceylon, towards Candy, in the interior, about 
 one hundred and twenty miles northward. They 
 started upon their journey very early in the morning, 
 and expected to accomplish it in three or four days; 
 though as the sun is so exceedingly warm in that 
 country, they intended to rest during the heat of the 
 day under the shade of the many broail-Uaved palm- 
 trees that grew by the side of the road. 
 
 They had travelled some distance when the younger 
 brother slopped, and gazing inquiringly around, said; 
 'I surely heard a cry, Robert, as if some one was 
 hurt. 'Let us look and see wV.at it can be,' 1 e added, 
 as a low moan now distinctly reichcd their cars; it 
 proceeded from a gronp of cocoa-nut trees that grew 
 on their right hand. 
 
 The brothers sprang hastily but cautiously forward, 
 and searched carefully around, till at last the elder ex- 
 claimed, laughing: 
 
 'Here it is, Atthur, come and see,' and as his broth- 
 er turned towards him, he pointed to a monkey, who, 
 having fallen from one of the branches of the fruit tree, 
 had hurt himself very severely. 
 
 'Poor fellow!' said Arthur; and taking him up, he 
 tore a strip from his bandcherchief and hound the 
 wounded limb, and then turned to resume his journey 
 with the monkey in bis arms. 
 
 •You surely," said Robert, 'do not intrn-l to take that 
 disgusting animal as your companion to Candy.' 
 
 'Do you think,' replied Arthur, 'that I would leave 
 this poor, helpless creature to die of his wound? No; 
 ho shall be my companion until he i.s cured, and then 
 be may return, as soon as he likes, to bis home in the 
 forest.' 
 
 The two brothers travelled on their way, though the 
 elder could not sometimes refrain from jokini; the other 
 about his companion. They had journeyed two days, 
 and were about halfway from their destination, when 
 the heat became exceedingly oppressive, and the nu- 
 merous springs, which had heretofore flowed along the 
 side of the road, became dried up, and they began to 
 suffer from the want of water. Their strength was 
 failing — they felt as thongh they could proceed no 
 
 further, and on the morning of the fonrth day, when 
 within about thirty miles of Candy, both brothers sunk 
 down at the foot of a palm tree, exhausted and parched 
 with thirst. 
 
 'Musi wo die here?' exclaimed Robert with a groan. 
 
 'Trust in God," replied Arthur, raising his eyes to- 
 wards heaven. 
 
 Suddenly the monkey, who was resting by his side, 
 sprang up and ran eagerly along the rood, as if be 
 were searching for something. At last he returned, 
 and seizing Arthur by the arm, endeavored to draw 
 him along with him. 
 
 'How strangely ho acts.' said the young man, 'what 
 can he have found!' and summoning all his strength, 
 he arose and followed the animal. 
 
 When he reached the spot, what met his delighted 
 eyes? There, growing in luxuriant abundance was 
 the silky, downy pitcher plant, or monkey cup, so 
 called on account of its being sought alter by those an- 
 imals for the purpose of ijucnihing their thirst. The 
 flower is in the shajie of a cup, about six inches in 
 length, and one and a half in diameter, it has a lid, 
 which opens and shuts with the changes of the weath- 
 er, and is filled with pure water, a secretion from the 
 plant. 
 
 The two brothers drank of the water, and were re- 
 freshed, and when they at last reached their home, they 
 related to their astonished friends how the monkey had 
 been the means of saving their lives. 'Lord, how tftrn- 
 ifold are Thy works! in wisdom hast Thou made them 
 all.' 
 
 HoTV TO Prosper in Business. — In the first place 
 make up your mind to accomplish whatever you 
 undertake; decide upon some particular employ- 
 ment and persevere in it. All the difficulties are 
 overcome by diligence and asiduity. 
 
 Be not afraid to work with your own hands, and 
 most diligently too. 'A cat in gloves catches no 
 micei' 
 
 Attend to your own business, and never trust it 
 to another, 'A pot that belongs to many is ill stir- 
 red and worse boiled.' 
 
 Be frugal. 'That which wUl not make a pot -will 
 make a pot-lid." 
 
 Be abstemious. 'Who dainties love shall beggars 
 prove.' 
 
 Rise early. 'The sleeping cat catches no poul- 
 try.' 
 
 Be sure and treat evcrj' one with respect and ci- 
 vUity. 
 
 Everj'thing is gained and nothing lost by civility. 
 Good manners cnstire success. 
 
 Never anticipate wealth from any other source 
 than labor. 'He who waits for dead men's shoes 
 may have to go for a long time barefoot.' 
 
 Heaven helps them that help them.selves. 
 
 If you implicitly follow these precepts, nothing 
 will hinder you from accumulating. 
 
 MISCELLANEA. 
 
 ' Sambo, you black tief, Sambo, you betray dat 
 secret I told you de odcr day •" ' I betray the se- 
 cret ? I scorn de "putation. I found I couldn"t 
 keep um, so I told um, to somebody that could !" 
 
 An old baron who had lost an eye in the wars, 
 had a glass one, which his page used to take away 
 on a plate every night. It happened that the page 
 in question being absent, another fellow, an entire 
 novice in the affair, was employed to supply his 
 place. The old gentleman gave without any cere- 
 mony his glass eye to his new servant. As the fel- 
 low did not move, the master said : — 
 
 ' Friend, what do you wait for r" 
 
 • For t'other eye," replied he. 
 
 A couple of idle fellows strolled into the colored 
 church at Ilighshire, a few evenings since, to enjoy 
 the fun ; but when the colored minister rose up to 
 preach, before announcing his text, he leaned for- 
 
 ward on the pulpit, and looked around on the con- 
 gregation. 
 
 ' Brethren," says he, at length, ' May dc Lor' hab 
 mercy on all de scofTers." (Long pause.) ' Jlay de 
 Lor' hab mercy on all dc laughers." (Solemn pause.) 
 ' May de Lor" hab mercy on de two peanut-eaters 
 down by dedoor." 
 
 The two young men did not wait for the bene- 
 diction. 
 
 The following rich scene recently oeeurred in one 
 of our courts of justice, between the Judge and a 
 Dutch witness all the way from Rotterdam : — 
 
 Judge — ' What is your native language f" 
 
 Witness — 'I pe no native.' 
 
 Judge — ' What is your mother tongue ?' 
 
 Witness — ' Ich hab no mudder. Mynheer.' 
 
 Judge (in an irritable tone) — ' What did you first 
 learn r A\Tiat language did you speak in the cra- 
 dle ?" 
 
 Witness — ' I tid not speak no language in the cra- 
 dle; I only cry in Dooteh!" 
 
 There was a general laugh, in which the Judge, 
 jury, and audience, joined. The witness was inter- 
 rogated no further about his native language. 
 
 During the summer of '57, says the Knickerbock- 
 er, com being scarce in the upper country, and one 
 of the citizens being hard pressed for bread, having 
 worn threadbare the hospitality of his generous 
 neighbors by his extreme laziness, they thought it 
 an act of justice to bury him. Accordingly he was 
 carried to the place of interment, and being met by 
 one of the citizens, the following conversation took 
 place ; — 
 
 * Hallo, what have you got there ! " 
 
 'Poor old Mr. S.' 
 
 ' What are you going to do with him ■' 
 
 'Bury him." 
 
 ' AVTiy, is he dead ? I had not heard of it.' 
 
 ' No, he is not dead, but he might as well be ; 
 for he has no com and is too lazy to work lor 
 any." 
 
 ' That is too cruel for civilized people. I'll give 
 two bushels of corn myself rather than see him buried 
 alive." 
 
 Old S. raised the cover, and asked in a draggling 
 tone — 
 
 ' Is it shelled r" 
 
 ' No, but you can shell it.' 
 
 ' Drive on, boys.' 
 
 ADVERTISEMENTS. 
 
 WILLIAM K. O'BRIEN, 
 
 77 THIRD ATENUK, NEW TORE. 
 
 —Manufacturer of— 
 
 LOOKING-GLASS, PORTRAIT 
 
 A>r> 
 
 PICTURE FRAMES, 
 
 Wholexale and Retail. 
 
 Oil Paintings and Enj^ravings ft-nmcd and varnislicd. 
 
 Orders promptly executed, packed and shipped to any part 
 
 my22 of the country. Sm* 
 
 T. P. FOY"NES & CO., 
 
 COUHKRCIAL, CARD, PLAIN AltO 
 ORNAMENTAL JOB PRINTERS, 
 
 No. 40 DrN-OKBHiRE Street, 
 Comer of Water street, (formerly Gazette Office.) 
 jy3 tf 
 
 WILLIAM PEARCE, 
 .PL UMBER, 
 
 12 AND 28 CITT EXCHANGE, 
 
 DEVONSHIRE STREET. 
 
 BOBTOK. 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 383 
 
 ADVEBTISEMENTS. 
 
 FINE READY MADE CLOTHING 
 
 — AND— 
 
 CUSTOM TAILORING. 
 
 SPRING OVEKCOATS, 
 
 BUSI^■ESS COATS, 
 
 TKOK AlHD DKESS COATS, 
 
 PANTS AND VESTS, 
 Good, Stylish, Well Made Gakments, 
 Such as meu of taste aud good judgment will wear, can at 
 all times be fouud at our store. 
 Our aim is to produce for our customers the best Ready 
 Made Garments at the lowest possiblk prices for 
 CASH. 
 
 Readers of this Journal are earnestly solicited to exam- 
 ine our goods before purchasing. 
 
 J W. SMITH & CO., 
 
 Dock Square, corker Elm Street. 
 myll tf 
 
 BURXH^VM. (formerly junior partner in the tirm of 
 j» BtJRNHAM Brothers,) has taken the Old Stand, 58 
 
 Ye Antique Booke Store still fiourisheth, 
 
 Asytte dide in days of yore; 
 And ye Buunham still catereth 
 
 For ye lovers of ancient lore. 
 
 all ; 
 
 SOUTH END CATHOLIC BOOK STOKE, 
 
 And Depot for the Sale of the 
 
 HIETROPOLITAN AND YOUTHS' MAGAZINES. 
 
 WILLIAM KEATING, Agent, 
 
 8 1-2 Harrison Avenue, or at his New Periodical Store, 176 
 
 Harrison Avenue, Boston, Mass., 
 
 Where a great variety of the most popular Books and 
 
 Papers cam be had at the very lowest prices, 
 
 \\l ILL supply Clubs, Agents, Canvassers, &c.. on the 
 
 tV , same terms as the Publishers. The following are 
 
 the terms — 3 copies will be sent by mail, to one addiess, for 
 
 one year S5; 6 copies for S^IO; 13 copies for®20; 20 copies 
 
 for S30. 
 
 BI?* On the receipt of @3, three copies of the Catholic 
 Youth's Magazine and one copy of the Metropolitan will 
 be mailed regularly tor one year. 
 
 QTT^ A few sets of the Magazines from the beginning, can 
 be had of the Agent. Also, all new books furnished as 
 soon as published. ap24 3mos 
 
 GENERAL TICKET OFFICE 
 
 —for the— 
 S O UTHERN AN D WESTERN STATES 
 
 THE CANADAS, 
 No. 2 Aleaht: Street, Boston. 
 
 EDWARD RYAN, Agent. 
 
 N. B. — Passage to and from Liverpool, and Bills of Ex- 
 change on England, Ireland and Scotland. 
 
 ap24 ly 
 
 SAMUEL MASUKY. 
 
 PHOTOGRAPH AND DAGUERREOTYPE 
 
 ARTIST. 
 
 289 Washington Street, 
 
 (Up one flight of stairs) 
 
 Boston. 
 Photographs taken of every size and finished in Oil, Wa- 
 ter, India Ink and Paatel Colors. Daguerreotypes taken in 
 the most superior manner. myl 
 
 WILLIAM D. PARK, 
 SHADES HOTEL, 
 
 NO. 2 MORTON PLACE, 
 
 BOSTON. 
 
 WHY BURN GAS BY DAYLIGHT? 
 
 STEPHEN ROE ^ CO., 
 
 IN'TENTOR.S and Manufacturers of the Improved Day- 
 n-'lit Reflector, for dilfusing the healthy light of day 
 into all dark places. No. 23 State street, Boston, and No. 
 S4 Park street. Baltimore. 
 N. B. Call and nee it in op eration. GmflS 
 
 B^v'^/M'^V^'^i?'^^''"'''^''^'^'^' ^^'^ COUNSELLOR 
 • AT LAW, lo Massachusetts Block, Court Square, 
 Boston. * ' 
 
 0=-l'articuIar attention paid to Convevancing, and the 
 examination of titles of Real J-:>tate. ' Jebl3 
 
 AWILLIAM.S & CO.. Wholesale Agents, for the Irish 
 . .Miscellany. The Trade .supplied with Books, Pe- 
 nodicals and Newspapers. Speciaf Agents for Harper & 
 •^r?H?" Publications, ^o. lUO Washington street 
 
 feb20 
 
 Boston. 
 
 AiroSEMENTS. 
 
 BOSTON THEA IKK. 
 Thomas Barry, Lessee and Manager. 
 
 Doors open at 7; Performance commences at 7 1-2 o'clock 
 Prices of admission— I'rivate Boxes .fti; Parquette, Bul- 
 
 )uv an d 1st Tier 60 cts; Family Circle 25 cts; Ampliithea- 
 
 ■0 15 ct 8. 
 
 BOSTON MUSEUM. 
 
 Stage Manager. 
 
 Exhibition Hall opens at6 1-2; commences at 7 1-2. 
 Admission 25 cents; Reserved Seats 50 cents. 
 
 HOWARD ATHEN^UM. 
 
 Jacob Barrow, Lessee and Manager. 
 
 Henry Wallack, Stage Manager. 
 
 The Grand Combination every night 
 
 Doors open at 7; Performance commences at 7 1-2. 
 Dress Boxes 75 cts; Circle boxes 50 cts; Parquette 50 cts; 
 Orchestra 75 cts; Upper Boxes 25 cts; Gallery 13 cts. 
 
 GILMORE'S SALEM QUADRILLE BAKD. E. UP- 
 TON, Jr., Prompter. Apply to P. S. Gilmore, Es- 
 sex House, Salem, Mass. 3m febl3 
 
 P . M O K K I S . 
 
 APOTHECARY, 
 
 Corner of Federal and Purchase streets, foot of Summer 
 
 street, Boston. 
 
 STRICT personal attention paid to compounding Physi 
 ciau's Prescriptions. A choice selection of Family 
 Medicines constantly on hand. A well selected stock ot 
 genuine imported Perfumery and Fancy Goods. Soda 
 Water with choice Syrups. A large assortment of genuiu' 
 
 Havana Segars constantly on hand. 
 
 ap5 
 
 NORTHERN HOUSE, 
 
 NORTH SQUARE— BOSTON. 
 
 JOHN GLANCY Proprietor. 
 
 This House has rooms equal to any first class Hotel, and 
 permanent or transient Boarders can be accommodated 
 nearly one half cheaper than at any other House in the 
 City. 
 
 In the Reading Room can be found all the morning and 
 evening papers, and periodicals of the day, together with 
 an extensive Library, for the free and exclusive use oi 
 the Boarders. 
 
 N. B. Strangers visiting Boston, can always find this 
 House a Home. 
 
 THE SOUTHERN CmZEN, 
 
 IS published weekly at Knoxville, Tennessee, by JOHN 
 MITCHELL & WM. G. SWAN, at S2 per annum, or 
 SI for SIX months, payable invariably in advance. 
 
 Mr. Mitchell having commenced in tlie 28th number ot 
 the paper, a series of Letters addressed to the Hon. Alex- 
 ander H. Stephens of Georgia, which when completed will 
 furnish an entire history of 
 
 THE IRISH TROUBLES OF 1848, 
 
 With their Causes and Consequences, 
 
 The Southern Citizen will be the more interesting to both 
 American and Irish readers. Besides these contributions 
 from Mr. Mitcliel, the Southern Citizen will continue to 
 have its usual quantity of original matter upon political 
 and literary subjects prepared by him. I'he circulation, 
 though large and constantly increasing, the proprietoi-s 
 have thought will be much more extended by an announce- 
 ment in this form. 
 
 Communications with remittances may be addresedto 
 Mitchel & Swan, Knoxville, Tennessee, or to any of the 
 following Agents: 
 
 S G Courtenay & Co, Charleston, S C; Thomas B OTon- 
 nor, Savannah, Ga; J C Morgan, New Orleans, La: Jas A 
 Gentrv, Qichmond, Va; Alexander Adamson, Washington 
 citv; tallinage& Tunner, Cinciunati.O; PM Haveitv, 110 
 Fulton street, N Y ; S H (ioetzel, S3 Dauphin street. Mobile 
 Ala; Beiij B Davis, Maj^onic Building, Montgomery, Ala; 
 
 San Francisco. 
 %** Clubs of ten will be supplied with the paper for S15. 
 
 SUBSCRIBE! SUBSCKIBE! SUBSCKIBEl 
 
 THE IRISH MISCELLANY 
 
 PICTURE GALLERY^ 
 
 lN3>tJCEMEKT8 TO KkW SUBSCRIBERS. 
 
 On Saturday, the 3il of July next, we shall present to 
 each subscriber to thi.- iii>li licuuial Mi^celliiiiv, a splendid 
 Lithographic Engravinj^, itiu. ^ci.ih.k Hk- gluViuiih ccene, 
 which occurred shortly litiuii- the eiipiure o! JJniejick, 
 when General SarslieUl, who eoiuiniuuicd the Ii i^li lior«, 
 having learned that a large supply ui heavy seige guns was 
 on the way to the camp of the I'rince of Orange, resolved 
 to capture them. Crossing over the country by a dilt.cult 
 and circuitous rout, so as to intercept the convoy, he came 
 up in front of it at Killcnumona. attacked William'e 
 troops, deiealed them and compelled them lo retreat betore 
 the Irish horse, leaving their artillery in the hands of Surs- 
 field. 
 
 Having to rejoin the garrison at IJmerick, Sart-tield knew 
 it would be impossible to carry with liim ihc Iit;nj Eng- 
 lish guns through the mountain pu.^t-ts. ami deUi mined to 
 destroy them. He ordered them to he charged to their ut- 
 most capacity, and imbedded deeply in the earth, with the 
 whole of the baggage train, which also lell into his hands. 
 A train being laid, the tpark was applied and in a lew sec- 
 onds the seige artillery of William was shattered into innu- 
 merable fragments This gallant leat astonished the Eng- 
 lish troops, gave new courage to the Irish, and added to 
 the great popularity of the gallant Sarslield. The explo- 
 sion shook the earth for miles around, and was heard at an 
 immense distance. 
 
 It is at the moment of the explosion of the English ar- 
 tillery which our artist has siezed upon for the subject of 
 his pencil. 
 
 This memorable event will be faithfully and accurately 
 portrayed. It has not hitherto, given inspiration, as far as 
 we can learn to any of ourlrisli artists, aud shall now have 
 amble justice done it. It wiil make a beautiful picture. 
 We shall present it to our readers on a sheet of fine draw- 
 ing paper, separate from the Miscellany, suitable for 
 framing. 
 
 It will at once be seen that we cannot do this without a 
 great outlay of capital. We expect to be reimburi-cdby a 
 very large addition to our subscription list, as no person 
 will be entitled lo it who has not paid on or belore the 3d 
 of July next one years' subscription in advance, dating 
 from our first number. 
 
 Non subscribers will be supplied at Sl,50 for each plate. 
 
 Wc are resolved that our subscribers shall possess a 'pic- 
 ture gallery' worthy of the events we propose to commem- 
 orate. This will be the first of a series of katiokal pic- 
 tures we propose presenting gratis to our regular subtciib- 
 ers the second ijicture of tlie series will be ready early in 
 October, the subject of which is not yet decided on. We 
 should tleel obliged to any of our friends who possess old 
 pictures of remarkable events in Irish hi.^tory, or portraits 
 of distinguished Irishmen, to forward them to us. They 
 shall be taken good care of. and returned. 
 
 Let our friends see to their subscriptionsin season. Our 
 Picture Gallery will be fit to adorn the walls of any gentle- 
 man's house in the country, and will, we hope, eventually 
 supersede the wretched daubs which are often met with. 
 
 Our arrangements for the first picture are almost com- 
 pleted. It will be absolutely necessary that we should 
 know immediately the number of plates we shall want, 
 j^et our subscribers therelbre, send in their subscriptions 
 without delay, and be careful to give us tiicir correct ad- 
 dress. We sliall not strike ofl" anymore copies than are 
 ordered before the above date. 
 
 Will our triends of tl'C press please notice this new fea- 
 ture in our publication, and we will take care that their 
 sanctums are adorned with choice copies ol this national 
 picture. 
 
 DO'ROUKKE, respectfully informs his (riends and the 
 . public, that he keeps constantly on hand Ct>KM^S 
 ol all .'-lyes unci kiiids.at iiis Coilh: Manufactory, No. 34" 
 led.ral, bclw i i.-ii Beach and Kneeland Streets, Boston, 
 whieli he will .--ell us reasonable as can be bought at any oth- 
 er place in the city. 
 
 Is. 11.— t)rders punctually attended to, day or night. 
 
 Kesidence, No. 28 South street, Boston. 
 
 [IIT^G rave-Clothes furnished to order at short notice. 
 
 feblS 
 
 THE IRISH VINDICATOR, 
 
 A WEEKLY NEWSPAPER, 
 
 The Best akd Cheapest Published in America. 
 
 THIS splendid Paper, which is little over nine months 
 in existence, has met with the 
 MOST WONDERFUL SUCCESS, 
 and has been pronounced by the Press and the Public to be 
 superior to any other Irish Weekly in the United States. 
 
 It contains each week, the very 
 Latest News from every County in Ireland ; 
 Original and entertaining 
 STORIES AND ANECDOTES, 
 and a variety of Miscellaneous Reading matter, of a charac- 
 ter which cannot fail to elevate and chasten the intel- 
 lectual appetite. The Irish Vindicator is devoted 
 
 TO THE INTERESTS OF IRISHMEN IN AMERICA, 
 
 and IB so cheap as to be within the reach of the poorest. 
 
 ONLY THREE CENTS A COPY. 
 
 the followiko aue the terms 
 
 To any part of the United States, for one year, S1.50 
 
 Do. do. do. for 8 months, 1.00 I 
 
 Do. do. do. for 4 months, 0.50 
 
 Do. do. do. fori month, 0.12 
 
 To any part of Canada or the British Provinces, one year, 
 
 ^2,00— All payments in advance. 
 
 FOR ADVERTISING, 
 
 12 lines, single insertion Sl.OO I 12 lines, 1 month, S2.50 
 
 12 do. 3 months, 6.50 | 12 do. 1 year, IG.OO 
 
 Published every week, at the Oflice, No 10 Spruce street, 
 
 New York, by the Proprietoii 
 
 PASSENGER CERTIFICATES. 
 
 TO OLD COTTNTRYMKN. Owen Mo Namara has 
 Passage Cerlilicaies and Drafts always on hand and 
 for sale. As he dues business for that most respectable 
 house, (Williams & Gnion) in New York. Old Countrymen 
 desiring to send for their friends, or remit money, would 
 do wellto give him a call atNo. 4Gorham St.. opposite 
 Summer St., Lowell, Maes ap2tl 
 

 ^clcctci) cvprcssli] for tk 3(risl) !!|liscelt;um. 
 
 ^V\^OIlDS BY JOH:Nr PIO^V^I^D P^YNE 
 
 
 
 \ 
 
 
 1 . Mid pleasures and pal - a-ces, thro' we may roam, 6b it ever so humble.there's no place like home; A charm from the skies seems to hallow ub 
 
 
 2. An cx-ile from home, splendor dazzles in vain ; Oh ! give me my lowly thatch'd cottage again. The bii-ds singing gaily, that come at ray 
 
 Lzzz4:35isrJ:Jti:i?— ^II:s.8zgz±Sz^E3s:t:f:^4^SzttS:S.J^ 
 
 ^^zM53E=:^:!;iziF=zpzif.-3:;z»itzzS^if=t^z!^z&ti^ 
 
 ^'trzizj.^rg.'z.vfij^^' ^-t}^^ 
 
 there, Wliich seek thro' the wide world.is ne'er met with elsewhere. Home,home,sweet,sweet home, Be it ever so humble, there's no place like liome. 
 
 -i*-^- 
 
 call ; Give me them, sweet peace of mind, dearer than all. Home, home, 8weet,sweet home.Be it ever so humble, there's no place like home. 
 
 •5>^>fez^»Fip=p_^iKE^=P4zpzti:3HSp^ 
 
 J 1 N 
 
 ^:^:?>-g7M-«:.:ISbr;:S:Izz|_z*-p%zt-p z3z"-W±3zPzzd^^ 
 ±z_?z^p.:±?zi;zzz:v:ji-i=p:^ii-^:f=J-E-ip=%-5^fi^ 
 
 ' The Snull Notes io tliiii Bar ar<> to bo suoit to ibit fus-odiI 
 
VOLUME I— NUMBER 25. ] 
 
 BOSTON, SATURDAY, JULY 31, 1858. 
 
 [ PRICE FOUR CENTS. 
 
 CLENARM CASTLE, 
 
 Represented below, stands in the vicinity of the lit- 
 tle town of Glenarm, whi.;h lies on the route from 
 Belfast to the Giant's Causeway, by Cawiekfergus 
 and Lame. The village itself contains nearly two 
 hundred neat, whitened cottages ; it is romantically 
 situated by the shore side, in a deep ravine or se- 
 questered glen, being closed in on either side by 
 lofty hills, and washed by the silver waters of a 
 mountain stream ; on the opposite bank of which, 
 in a commanding situation, stands the ancient cas- 
 tle, bearing the same name as the town, and which 
 for many years had been the residence of the An- 
 
 trim family. In this direction, also is seen the 
 gracefully rising spire of the parish church — it stands 
 on the beach, surrounded by a neatly enclosed bur- 
 ial-ground. In the vicinity of the village is a fine- 
 ly wooded glen, leading to a little deer park, a place 
 of singular construction, and well deserving the at- 
 tention of the curious traveller. It is bounded at 
 one side by the sea, whose waters have hollowed its 
 sides into caves and archways — and at the othei by 
 a natural wall of solid basalt, rising two hundred 
 feet high, which is a perpendicular and regular as 
 the fortification of a city, and presents a more im- 
 passable barriei than could possibly be raised by the 
 
 hands of man. From this point there is an exceed 
 ingly fine prospect of the coast and surrounding 
 couhtry. 
 
 The castle is a stately, ancient pile, still bearing 
 in its appearance something of the character of a 
 baronial castle of the fifteenth century. The ap- 
 proach to it is by a lofty barbican, standing on the 
 northern extremity of the bridge. Passing through 
 this, a long terrace, overhanging the river, and con- 
 fined on the opposite side by a lofty, embattled cur- 
 tain wall, leads through an avenue of ancient lime 
 trees, to the principal front of the building ; the ap- 
 pearance of which, from this approach, is imposing. 
 
 GLENARM CASTLE. 
 
380 
 
 HUSH MISCELLANY. 
 
 X 
 
 THE IRISH FUNERAL CRY. 
 
 I III anciunt times it wm Iho jluiy of Uic bard, wlio 
 
 ,„,,., , , . ... _ was attnrheil to the family o( cncli cliief or nolilc, m- 
 
 Tlie we known iiis cm, so ong nscii in this conn- , ..,,,., • . r i 
 
 • ^ I sisied hy some o llio honnehoU , to rnisic tho funeral 
 
 try, of keening, or InnieniinK over the dead, In of the 
 most remote antii|nily History informs ua, that it 
 was known to tlio Greeks and Romans, who, however, 
 seem to have borrowed it from the Eastern nations, 
 among whom it probiihly had its ori;,'in; and from the 
 8rri(Jinrc3 we learn that it was pnictised among the 
 Israelites. Dr. O'Brien tells ua, that the wor<l in tho 
 Irish language, as ojiginally and more correctly writ- 
 ten, is eino, and not, as modern orthoijpists have it, 
 caoinc; and this makes it almost identical with the 
 Hebrew word cina, which sij;nifics lamentation or 
 weeping with clapping of hands. The learned Jc/.recl 
 Jones, in speaking of the Sliillah or Tarninzeght, a 
 language or dialect of the inh^iliiiants of (he mountain- 
 ous part of southwestern Barbiry, in a lemr to John 
 Chamberlayne, dated •Wcsiinona<tcrii, 24 Dcccmlir. 
 1714,' declares that 'ihc Sliilhenses have the same cus- 
 tom as the Arabs, the Jews, and the Irish, of lament- 
 ing over tho dead, uttering various ciii s of pritf, tear- 
 ing their hair, and asking the deccnsid why did he die? 
 why did be leave ihem? and desiring ibat death would 
 seize them also, in order th;)t they might rejoin him 
 whom they lamented.' According to an old work, 
 Armstrong's History of Minorca, the peasantry of that 
 island in their lament, ask the dead 'if he had not food, 
 raiment, and friends, and wherefore then did ho die!' 
 Sir Waiter Seoit informs us that the coronach of the 
 Highlanders is precisely similar to the ululatus of the 
 Bomans, and the ullaloo of the Irish; that the words 
 of it arc not always articulate, but when they are so, 
 they express the praises of the deceased, and the loss 
 the clan would sustain by bis death. 
 
 The funeral song introduced in Shakspeare's beauti- 
 ful play of Cymlielinc, where the scene is laid in 
 Wales, upon the supposed death of the disguised Imo- 
 gen, will, no doubt, recur to some of our readers. 
 
 From the fourth volume of the Transactions of the 
 Koyal Irish Academy, we transcribe the following 
 passages, descriptive of the ancient observance of the 
 custom — 
 
 'The Irish have been always remarkable for their 
 funeral lamentations, and this peculiarity has been no- 
 ticed by almost every traveller who visited them; and 
 it seems deiived from their Celtic ancestors, the prim- 
 aeval inhabitants of this isle. Cambrcnsis, in the 
 twelfth century, says, the Irish then musically ex- 
 pressed their griefs; that is, they applied the musical 
 art, in which they excelled all others, to the orderly 
 celebration of funeral obseijuies, by dividing the 
 mourners into two bodies, each alternately singing 
 their part, and the whole at times, joining in full 
 chorus. 
 
 The body of the deceased, dressed in grave clothes, 
 and ornamented with flowers, wa.s placed on a bier, or 
 some elevated spot. The relations and keeners (sing- 
 ing mourners) then ranged themselves in two divis- 
 ions, one at the head, and the other at the foot of the 
 corpse. The bards and croteries had before prepared 
 the funeral caoinan. The chief bard of the head cho- 
 rus began by singing the first stanza in a low doleful 
 tone, which was softly accompanied by the harp; at 
 the conclusion, the foot semichoms began the lamenta- 
 tion, or ullaloo, from the final note of the preceding 
 stanza, in which they were answered by the head semi- 
 chorus; then both united in one general chorus. The 
 
 «ong, but, at a more recent period, this has been en 
 trusted to hired monmers, who were remunerated ac- 
 cording to the estimation in which their talents were 
 held. We are told that formerly the metriial feet of 
 thiir compositions were mneli atten<lcd to, but on the 
 decline of tho Irbih bards, these feet were gradually ne- 
 glected, and ihcy fell into a kind of slip-shod metre 
 among the women, who have entirely engrossed the 
 office of keeners or mourners. 
 
 From Mr. T. Croflon Crokcr, the talented chronicler 
 of many of our old legends and customs, wo ([uote the 
 following highly grahpic account of the performance of 
 a keener hy profession, of the present day: 
 
 'Having a curiosity,' he says, 'to hear the keen more 
 distinctly snng than over a corpse, when it is accom- 
 panied liy a wild and inarticulate uproar as a chorus, I 
 prevailed on an elderly woman, who was renowned for 
 her skill in keening, to recite for me S'-me of these 
 dirges. This woman, whose name was Harrington, 
 led a wandering kind of life, travelling from cottage 
 to cott.ige about the country, and tho'igh in fact sub- 
 sisting on charity, found everywhere not merely a wel- 
 come, but had numerous invitations on account of the 
 vast store of Irish verses she had collected and could 
 repeat. Her memory was indeed extraordinary, and 
 the clearness, quickness, and elegrnce with which she 
 translated from the Irish into English, though unable 
 to read or write, is almost incrodihlo. Before she 
 commenced repeating, she mumbled for a short lime, 
 probably the beginning of each stanza, to assure her- 
 self of the arrangement, with her eyes closed, rocking 
 her body backwards and forwards, as if keeping time 
 to the measure of the verse. She then began in a kind 
 of whining recitation, but as she proceeded, and as the 
 composition required it, her voice assumed a variety of 
 deep and fine tones, and the energy with which many 
 passages were delivered, proved her perfect compre- 
 hension and strong feeling of the subject; but her eyes 
 always remained shut, perhaps to prevent interruption 
 to her thoughts, -or her attention being engaged by any 
 surrounding object. 
 
 Till about the middle of the last century, the cus- 
 tom was veiy generally adhered to in Ireland, as well 
 in families of the highest condition, as among those of 
 the lower orders; and many of the elegiac poems, com- 
 posed on such occasions, have come down to us, which 
 by their hgurative langugae, and highly poetical im- 
 agery, evince astonishing genius and are strongly in- 
 dicative of the natural talent of our people. The 
 learned Dr. Adam Clarke has preter\'cd one of consid- 
 erable beauty, the music of which, he tells us, though 
 rude and simple, is nevertheless, bold, highly-impas- 
 sioned, and deeply affecting, and is often used among 
 the descendants of the aboriginal Irish on luneral oc- 
 casions. We, however, prefer giving the following 
 'lament of Morian Shehone for Miss Mary Bourke," 
 which is literally translated from the original Irish. 
 
 'Silence prevails; it is an awful silence. The voice 
 of Mary is heard no longer in the valley. 
 
 'Yes, thou art gone, O Mary! but Morian Shehone 
 will raise the song of woe, and bewail thy fate. 
 
 'Snow white was thy virtue; the youths gazed on 
 thee with rapture; and old age listened with pleasure 
 to the soft music of thy tongue. 
 
 Thy beauty was brighter than the sun which shone 
 
 chorus of the first stanza being ended, the chief bard of : around thee, O Mary! hut thy sun is set, and has left 
 
 the foot semichoms began the second gol, or lamenta- 
 tion, in which they were answered by that of the head, 
 and as before, both united in the general full chorus. 
 Thus alternately, were the song and the choruses per- 
 formed during the night. The genealogy, rank, pos 
 
 the soul of thy friend in darkness. 
 
 'Sorrow for ihec is dumb, save tho wailings of Mo- 
 rian Shehone; and grief has not yet tears to shed for 
 Mary. 
 
 'I have cried over the rich man; but when tne stone 
 
 sessions, tlie virtues and vices of the dead were re- "as 'a'J »pon '"s grave, my grief was at an end. Not 
 
 hearsed, and a number of interrogations were addressed 
 to the deceased; as why did he die! If married, wheth- 
 er bis wife was faithful to him, his sons dutiful, or good 
 hunters or warriors^ If a woman, whether her daugh- 
 ters were fair or chaste? If a young man, whether ho 
 
 so wiih my heart's darling; the grave cannot hide 
 Mary from the view of Morian Shehone. 
 
 'I see her in the four comers of her habitation, which 
 was once gilded by her presence. 
 
 'Thou didst not fall off like a withered leaf, which 
 
 had been crossed in love, or if the blue-eyed maid of hangs trembling and insecure; no, it was a rude blast 
 Erin had treated him with scorn. I which brought thee to the dust, O Mar) ! 
 
 'lladst thou not friends? Hadst thou not bread to 
 eat, and raiment to put on ! Hadst thou not youth 
 and beauty, Mary? Then niigh'.csi thou not have been 
 happy? 
 
 'But the spoiler came and disordered my peace — 
 the grim tyrant has taken away my only bupjiort in 
 Mary. 
 
 'In thy state of probation, thou wert kind hearted to 
 all, and none envied thee thy good fortune. Oh! that 
 the lamentations of thy friends — Oh! that the burning 
 tears of Morian Shehone could bring hack from tho 
 grave the peerless Mary! 
 
 'But alas! this cannot be; then twice in every year, 
 while the virgins of the valley celebrate the birth and 
 death of Mary, under the wide-spreading elm, let her 
 spirit hover round them, and teach them to emulate 
 her virtues. 
 
 'So f dls into the depths of silence the lament of 
 Morian Shehone.' 
 
 Of late years the custom has fallen greatly into dis- 
 u-ic, and is now of rare occurrence, except in some 
 very few old families, and among the peasantry, and 
 witli them it has now generally degenereted into a 
 mere cry of an extremely wild and mournful character, 
 which, however, consisting of several notes, forming a 
 very harmonious musical passage, approaches to a 
 species of song, but is almost always destitute of 
 words. • 
 
 The crowd of people, who assemble at the funerals 
 of the peasantry in some parts of the country, is amaz- 
 ing, often exceeding a thousand persons, men and 
 women. They gather, as the bearers of the hearse 
 proceed on their way, and when they pass through any 
 village, or approach any bouse, the wail swells out still 
 louder than before, which gives notice that a funeral 
 is passing, and immediately the people floek out to fol- 
 low it. In the province of Munstcr it is said that it is 
 a common thing for the women to follow a funeral, to 
 join in the universal cry with all their might and main 
 for some time, and then tp turn and ask, 'Arrah, who 
 is it that's dead? who is it we're crying for?' 
 
 The peasantry everywhere are wonderfully eager to 
 attend the funerals of their friends and relations, and 
 they make their relationships branch out to a great 
 extent. The proof that a poor man has been well be- 
 loved during bis life, is his having a crowded funeral. 
 Even the poorest people have their own burying places, 
 that is, spots of ground in the churchyards, which arc 
 situated sometimes in the wildest parts of the moun- 
 tains, their situation indicated by some remnant of a 
 ruin, and a few scattered tombstones and the low green 
 hillocks of the graves. Here, they say, their ancestors 
 have been buried ever since the wars of Ireland, and 
 tliough these burial places should be many miles from 
 the place where a man dies, his friends and neighbors 
 take care to carry the corpse thither. 
 
 The first time I ever heard the funeral cry, I was 
 greatly stnick by it, owing, perhaps, in some degree 
 to its coming upon me qnite unexpectedly. I was 
 riding along an unfrequented road in one of the most 
 retired parts of the county of Meath; I well remember 
 it was a lovely moniing early in spring; the trees were 
 rapidly assuming their most brilliant clothing of green, 
 there was a genial warmth in the air, the sun shone 
 out brightly, and the lively songs of the birds added 
 their animating influence at once to cheer and tran- 
 quilize the feelings, and I sauntered on in that delight- 
 ful state of mind which one enjoys, when all the cares 
 and anxieties of life for a few short moments utterly 
 forgotten, one is engaged solely in drinking in a vari- 
 e'y of undefinable, but yet highly pleasurable emotions 
 from every quarter. A faint, wailing sound, so wild 
 and indescribable, that it seemed almost something 
 unearthly, came floating on the light morning breeze, 
 but so indistinct and so faint from distance, that it was 
 repeated more than once before I could be quite cer- 
 tain it was more than mere imagination. However, I 
 heard it again and again at inten-als of a few seconds, 
 the sound becoming each time more distinct as I ap- 
 proached the quarter from whence it came, or the wind 
 bore it a little more strongly towards me. From a 
 sort of murmur, it swelled out into a full tone, then 
 
IlllSH MISCELLANY. 
 
 38f 
 
 died away into silence; I know nolliing it resembled 
 so much as iho sounds of an Eolian harp, as tliey rise 
 gradnally in strengtli, and then sink into tlie softfst 
 cadences. At length, reaching a turn in the road, I 
 perceived lU some distance a vast crowd of people ad- 
 vancing towards me, and stretching along a eonsider- 
 alile extent of ground; part of them only I was nhla to 
 see, the remainder were concealed from my view by 
 the windings of the road. In the front where the 
 crowd was most dense, I distinguished hy their cloaks, 
 (several of which being scarlet, gave a highly pictorial 
 effect to the group,) twenty or thirty females, and in 
 the midst of them a bier carried by men, who were oc- 
 casionally relieved by others of those nearest them. I 
 soon perceived that the funeral song was begun by 
 some of these women, that it was gradually swelled by 
 the voices of the remainder, and the men joined occa- 
 sionally their deeper tones. The effect of the whole 
 was most striking, and had something even grand in 
 it; the song was guttural, but by no means monoto- 
 nous, and whether the contrast with the bri.ht and 
 joyous spring morning may not have rendered it more 
 melancholy and lugubrious I know not, but it certain- 
 ly struck me as the most singularly plaintive and 
 mournful expression of excessive grief that could well 
 be imagined. 
 
 As I drew nearer I perceived that the persons who 
 composed the cortege were affected by very different 
 feelings indeed. Some few of those who followed close 
 to the coffin, were evidently overcome by the most 
 heartfelt and poignant affliction. Some of the women 
 especially, gave way to the most unrestrained and ve- 
 hement expression of the liveliest sorrow, weeping 
 loudly, throwing; up their hands and clapping them to- 
 gether, or striking them violently against their bosoms. 
 It occurred to me involuntarily that it was no small 
 trial of the true pathos of this ancient melody to see 
 that it bore with undiminished effect so close a juxta- 
 position with the real demonstration of genuine and 
 unartificial grief; indeed I fancied at times that some 
 of them, even in the utmost abandonment of their sor- 
 row, joined in the wail of the other women, who, by 
 their undisturbed countenances and unagitated de- 
 meanor, pointed themselves out as the professional 
 keeners who assisted on the occasion. 
 
 As soon as the foremost persons came up to me, I 
 raised my hat for a moment, and turned my horse's 
 head about, aware that it is deemed unlucky if any 
 person meeting a funeral passes it without turning 
 back to accompany it at least a short distance. I am 
 always anxious to yield to such prejudices as this 
 among my countrymen; it costs not much trouble to 
 show some slight respect to their feelings, and I think 
 one is especially called on to do so upon such occa- 
 sions. It always appeared to me that trifles like these 
 sflrve greatly to draw together the bonds of charity and 
 friendly feeling between the different classes in this 
 much divided country, which it is to be lamented are 
 often heedlessly and rudely broken through by many 
 who, unobservant of mankind, know not that it is one 
 of those immutable laws inherent in our very nature, 
 and no where of more force than in the bosoms of our 
 warm-hearted countrymen, that a far deeper feeling of 
 gratitude and affection is engendered by an expression 
 of sympathy or participation either in sorrow or joy 
 than by labored kindnesses, which in truth are often 
 felt as absolutely oppressive. 
 
 By reigning in my horse, I gradually allowed the 
 ■whole crowd to pass mc by, though it seemed almost 
 to be interminable; I was astonished at (inding that it 
 extended probably along upwards of a mile of the road 
 . and consisted of not less than two thousand people. I 
 then resumed my journey, and in a few minutes the 
 intervening ground hid the entire procession from my 
 view, and the funeral wail gradually became distant, 
 and at last totally died away. 
 
 I 8ubsef|uenlly learned that the deceased was a Tcry 
 extensive farmer, claiming to he a descendant of one 
 of the old native families, who derive their lineage from 
 the ancient princes of our land; that ho had just ter- 
 minated a long life spent from his childhood on his 
 paternal inheritance, in constant intercourse with the 
 
 poor peasantry, by whom he was much beloved, not 
 only in consequence of ancient descent, but from his 
 having had the character of exercising lavishly the 
 hospitality of the olden time, besides possessing pre- 
 eminently in his own person many of the other virtues 
 and qualities which stand highest in the estimation of 
 our countrymen. 
 
 It is an interesting fact that Curran who was from 
 his -infancy familiar v/ith the language of his country, 
 and in his youthful days took especial pleasure in con- 
 stantly mixing in the social meetings of the peasantry, 
 has been known to declare that ho derived his first no- 
 tions of poetry and eloquence from the compositions of 
 the hired mourner over the dead. 
 
 THE BROKEN FIDDLE. 
 
 A. SKKTCII PKOM REAL LIFE. 
 
 Poor blind Jemmy Connor!— he played the sweet 
 and plaintive melodies of our Green Isle with a deep 
 and touching pathos. I have listened to him foi hours 
 with a mixture of sadness and pleasure; and as he 
 drew the varying heart touching strains from the 
 strings of his fiddle, I do not feel'asbamed to own that 
 he drew the tears from my eyes. He was taught by 
 iiffiiction. But perhaps you have never heard the story 
 of Jemmy Connor and his broken fiddlel Well, then, 
 I Will tell it you. 
 
 The calm sunshine of domestic happiness bright- 
 ened and mode glad the yonng days of Jemmy Con- 
 nor. He had married early in life the object of his do- 
 voted affection, whose faithful love and cheerful atten- 
 tion to household duties had endeared to him his little 
 home. He never missed the clean and tidy room, the 
 comfortable and wholesome repast, and the welcoming 
 smile, at his return from his work; and his sober and 
 industrious habits bad gained for him the esteem and 
 confidence of his employer. Jemmy and Mary Con- 
 nor were happier in their humble dwelling than many 
 a lordly owner of a proud and princely palace. 
 
 Years of peace and joy rolled over their heads, and 
 though they had wept at the grave of two of their in- 
 fant offspring, still they were happy; for their eldest, a 
 sweet, blue-eyed girl, was spared to them; and shortly 
 after, a son opened its smiling eyes upon the glad pair. 
 But, in giving birth to the last child, poor Mary Con- 
 nor had taken cold, which brought on that wasting 
 harbinger of death that follows so many families, and 
 was hereditary in hers. Consumption laid its blight- 
 in"- hand upon her shrinking frame, and left the heart- 
 stricken and inconsolable husband a young widower. 
 How uncertain are the enjoyments of the world — how 
 fleeting are its pleasures! 
 
 In that same room, about six years af er, Jemmy 
 Connor lay upon a sick bed; he had taken the small- 
 pox from his little son, who had recovered; but the 
 doctor seemed to have little hope that he would rise 
 from that bed again. His daughter, now twelve years 
 of age, tended aud watched him with untiring solici- 
 tude and affection; nor would she quit him, though 
 entreated to leave that scene of dangei. He did re- 
 cover—he rose from that bed of sickness— but his sight 
 was gone forever. 
 
 'Dear father,' said Mary Connor, as she sat busily 
 engaged at her needle — the setting sun shining upon 
 them, and the summer breeze, as it passed over the 
 box of blooming mignionettc at the o^^ened window, 
 filling the room with fragrance— 'Dear father, I am 
 just thinking how good the Lord has been to us, in 
 raising up for us such kind friends. I would not have 
 found it easy to get this work, were it not for that be- 
 nevolent lady, who exerted herself among her friends, 
 and so earnestly recommended mo to them; and how 
 could we have managed to keep this little room so 
 long, but for your kind employorf 
 
 'True, my dearest child, wo have great reason to be 
 
 thankful. The Lord is good! And though I have 
 
 met with my own share of allliction, my heart is re- 
 
 ned, and I am still hapjiy- very, very happy— since 
 
 'Reach mo down my fiddle, my dear child,' said he 
 'and I will play you one of your favorite little airs." 
 
 Jemmy had amused many a leisure hour, in his 
 younger and happier days, by striving to become a 
 proficient on the instruraentj The fiddle, which Mary 
 now htinded down to him, was one which his lamented 
 wife had herself purchased for hira, and he prized it 
 above all he possessed on earth, next to his beloved 
 Mary and his little Jemmy. Since he had the misfor- 
 tune of losing his sight it had been a constant source 
 of pleasure to him, and had soothed away many a bit- 
 ter pang. 
 
 I said that consumption was an hereditary complaint 
 in his wife's family. Alas! it soon showed itself in 
 Mary's delicate frame, in the hectic flush of her cheek, 
 and the short oppressive cough. Poor Jemmy Con- 
 nor! his story is a sad one. His fond, affectionate 
 daughter— the child of his heart— his good, his pious 
 Mary, was carried to an early grave, and it was many 
 a day before he recovered from the efiects of this over- 
 whelming shock. 
 
 Taking his little boy hy one hand, and his fiddle in 
 the other, he left the home where all the ties that bound 
 him to earth were breaking one by one. He could not 
 bear to be any longer a dependent on the generosity of 
 his former master, and was now determined to make 
 his fiddle, which was hitherto only his amusement, the 
 means of his own and his son's subsistence. Kam- 
 bling through the country, from one farm-house to an- 
 other. Jemmy Connor and his son became well known 
 and universally liked; and, as he played the old Irish ■ 
 airs sweetly and clearly, you would scarcely see a dry 
 eye among those who were grouped in listening silence 
 around him. 
 
 It was a beautiful day in autumn; the sun was shin- 
 ing on hill and valley, on wood and stream; the song 
 of the lark was breaking from the far-off golden clouds 
 in strains of thrilling melody, which the wrapt fancy 
 might mistake for a cherub's hymn of praise; the rich 
 meadows filled the air with fragrance; and the produce 
 of the fields, which were lately white with the harvest, 
 was conveyed by the busy husbandmen into the well- 
 filled graneries of the farmer. All was cheerfulness, 
 and praise, and love. Even tho very beasts seemed to 
 partake of the general joy. And cold must be the 
 heart that could gaze on such a scene without being 
 lifted up in thankfulness to him who giveth the rain, 
 and the sunshine, and the abundance of the harvest. 
 
 There was one that passed through that scene, and 
 though he saw it not, yet felt his bosom expand with 
 gratitude. The sweet fresh air gladdened his up- 
 turned brow, and Jemmy Connor passed along, led by 
 his little son. They were invited to a farmer's house, 
 and they were now taking a short cut through a path- 
 way across t!.:e fields. Suddenly the joyous and ex- 
 citing halloo of the huntsmen came upon the wind, 
 mingled with tho deep-toned yoUings of the hounds. 
 A hare, closely pursued, darted, with the speed of des- 
 deration, by the father and son; almost in the next 
 instant, the hounds and the huntsmen came thunder- 
 ing on. 
 
 'Out of the way, you wandering vagabond!' roared 
 a hoarse voice, in startling execration. 
 
 'Hasten, dear father!' — hasten!' said the trembling 
 boy. 
 
 The father, unused to such harsh words, and alarmed 
 at tho danger he could not see, dropped his fiddle, and 
 the hindmost hoofs of the flying hunter striking against 
 it, shivered it to pieces. 
 
 'Your music is finished,' laughed out tho unfeeling 
 huntsman, as he bounded over a hedge. 
 
 Oh! who could portray the deep, tho heart-felt 
 agony of poor Jemmy! All the afflictions of his life 
 seemed crowded together in that last misfortune. Had 
 he been offered a purse of goM in exchange for his 
 fiddle, he would have spurned at it, so hallowed had it 
 become in his remembrance. It was the long-cher- 
 ished gift of his first and only love; it had been the 
 delight of bis dear, his departed daughter, who oft had 
 nglcd her sweet song with its notes; it was the 
 
 you are spared to me to bless my darkeneil hours 
 
 As Mary took his extended hand aflectionately in soother of his cares, and the means of supporting his 
 
 hers, he felt a tear fall upon it. 
 
 I remaining child, his faithful Jemmy. 
 
38« 
 
 IKISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 When tlio noise haJ pained away, he itooped down, 
 and said, in a tone of agonj-, for ho heard the crash, 
 •Is it broke, Jcniiuyl' 
 
 'Broke! broke!' exelaimid ihe Utile fellow, sobbing 
 bitterly. 'Aye, dear father, it i» broke into a thoasand 
 pieces!' 
 
 The poor blind man clasped his hands, and stoo<l in 
 nnutternbloanKQish; the cliild cried and solibedas if his 
 heart would break; and a man twice nddrossid them, 
 In a voire of condolence, ere ihey were aware of his 
 approach. It was the farmer who had invited ilicm to 
 his house. He had seen the huntsmen sweeping by- 
 bad heard the rough and cruel c.iclaniation— and, fear- 
 ing that stmc accident liad occurred, he hastened to- 
 wanls Ihcm.and yaw the scntlcrid fragments which 
 the boy was taking from the bug and laying on the 
 grass. 
 
 'Curso on the hardhearled villain!' said he. 'May 
 Ihe ltd vengeance hotly pursue him, and may he 
 break' — 
 
 •Hush, hush!' said poor Jemmy, roused from the 
 depth of his sorrow. 'Curse him not; vengeance is 
 not fitted for our weak and erring hands. May tlie 
 Lord forgive him— and I forgive him, though he has 
 bid this desolate heart completely bare by that one 
 blow.' 
 
 'Como, come,' said the farmer, dashing away the 
 tears of pity which filled bis eyes, 'yuu are heartily 
 welcome to my fire-side siill. Come, botli of you— I 
 will take no excuse. But rouse jourstlf, man, and 
 with the blessing of God, you shall have another fiddle 
 as good as the one you lost.' 
 
 'Never, never!" said the blind man; 'never will I 
 handle the like of that again. It was dear and more 
 precious to me iban the eyesight which I lost. When 
 I felt it in my hand— when I heard its soothing tone, 
 it illumined my soul with the light of former days, 
 and then my wife, my child, my happiness that van- 
 ished when they were gone, came floating through my 
 mind like a sweet dream. It was the gift of my wife. 
 Ah! little did the thoughtless huntsman think that 
 when he broke that precious gift, ho broke the min- 
 strel's heart!" 
 
 Alas! and so it did. The worthy farmer strove to 
 cheer his guest — in vain; he never rose from his bed 
 again; and a few days after, he was laid in his last 
 home. His parting moments were brightened by the 
 kindness and attention of the farmer, who promised to 
 adopt the little Jemmy— he had no son of his own— 
 which he faithfully fulfilled; and, in course of time, he 
 gave him his daughter in marriage. 
 
 Such is the sad tule; and I never meet one of those 
 wandering minstrels, who are, in general such favor- 
 ites among our peasantry— particularly if he should 
 happen to be blind— that I do not think of poor Jem- 
 my Connor and his broken fiddle. 
 
 glass to keep the cold out of his stomach; another him to a sense of his condition, restrain him from ex- 
 
 aflcr breakfast to a-ssist digestion; two or three glasses cess, and gradually transform him from a stupid, slov- 
 
 in the course of the day, to oblige his various employ- cnly and wonhltsB druukaid, into a smart, dean, and 
 
 crs, who pascnted the glass and process together; and reputable soldier ; therefore, do not grieve Mary, at 
 
 two or three tumblers of strong punch just before bed- what may tave )our son from ruin, and you from un- 
 
 limc, as a necessary refreshment after the fatigues of happiness ; he may yet sec his error in a proper view, 
 
 iho day. And this vile system soon became a con- and bo reclaimed from it.' 
 
 firmed habit with this young man, who could no! pass Mary became a little more composed, particularly 
 
 half a day without his dose of poison, the tflects of when I promised to prevail on sou>e person of more in- 
 
 wbich were already visible in the sallowness of his fluence than a man of my rank in life could possess, to 
 
 eves and in the inanimate expression of his features. request the favorable atiemion of the commanding of- 
 
 But let us have poor Mary's story in her own words: ficer to Mick, in the event of his becoming a sober man, 
 
 'Och, Mr. Doyle dear, (wringing her bands and still a very problematical matter however, 
 
 twisting the apron) och, Mrs. Doyle, jewel, (my wife She declared that if be ever grew to be a Serjeant, 
 
 and I were playing the parts of Darby and Joan to- she should be the proudest of mothers ; fully under- 
 
 geiher,) Mick is listed! Och, is it for that his four ; standing, however, that all depended on himself, on his 
 
 bones came into the world! Is it for that I'm rearing total abstinence from the detestable poison which had 
 
 and looking at him since the day he was first bora? 
 Och, murthcr, munher, to go with the sodgicrs!' 
 Ilcie again grief rendered her inarticulate. 
 
 'I .iin glad, Mary," said I. 'it is not worse; if Mick 
 wishes to go into the army, there is nothing discredit- 
 
 hitherto been his curse — on there being every proba- 
 bility, that if he even put his lips to it, his resolution 
 would fail, when punishment, not promotion, would bo 
 the result. 
 
 She added, as a clincher, that she would compel 
 
 able in doing so — quite the reverse — a well conducted him to take his voluntary allidavy against sperila for a 
 
 soldier is always respectable, and often gets promotion 
 — but how do you know it to be true?' 
 
 Mary then told Mrs. Dojle and me, that Mick hav- 
 ing come to town on the preceding day on some pro- 
 cess-serving business, got 'hearty,' and seeing a re- 
 
 year and a day. 
 
 Thb Shobtest Wat. — Some twelve years ago, 
 Napoleon, Indiana, was celebrated for two things^-ooe 
 for ibe carousing propensities of its inhabitants, and 
 
 cruiting party of the Rcgt., was suddenly seized ' ^^^^ ^,1,^^ f^^ ,1,^ i^^gj. number of its roads. It appears 
 
 with a tit of military mania, and enlisted. t|,at an earnest collector had stopped at Dayton and 
 
 'His mother,' as she expressed herself, 'saw him ' ^,|,pQ^g m.q„^ny,,i ,y|,|, „„ qIj drover, who appeared 
 
 TOO FOND OF A CLASS. 
 
 Mary Dempsey, my ploughman's wife, came to roe 
 in great distress the other day, and after twi.sting in 
 her fingers the corner of her apron with which she 
 had been wiping her eyes, and exhibiting sundry other 
 manifestations of an irritated or excited mind, told me 
 (bursting into a loud lamentation,) that her son Mick 
 had enlisted. 
 
 Sobs for Borao time prevented her telling mc the 
 particular causes which had induced this young man, 
 who had been serving as under steward in the employ- 
 ment of a very respectable gentleman in my neighbor- 
 hood, to leave his place. 
 
 Mick had been a guy, thoughtless fellow— *ell prin- 
 cipled, and beloved by all the workmen in Mr. C.'s 
 employment, bnt unhappily too fond of a gla.ss. 
 
 In consequence of repealed irregularities, attend- 
 ance at wakes and dances, and every idle pastime the 
 country afforded, he was at length dismissed from his 
 service; and then, unfortunately for himself, became 
 process-server and bailiff in a neighboring district. 
 
 In thU situation, in which tcmpwtions to dram 
 drinking eonUnually occurred, Mick's besetting sm 
 took fast hold of him— in the morning he took his 
 
 yoked wiih a sodgicr, a tinkereen of a fellow, that 
 wasn't within a head and shoulders of Mick. 
 
 'Mother,' says he, 'walk up the street till I discourse 
 you.' 
 
 'So I followed him to the next public-house (my 
 curse on every one of them,) and went in with 'im. 
 
 'Mother,' says he, 'be after raising your heart with 
 this glass,' and he looked sorrowful like; 'tell Mr. 
 Doyle,' says he, 'I'm listed — do as I bid you." 
 
 'So I opened my two eyes, to see if he was joking, 
 bnt what did I see but the cockade in his hat. I knew 
 t'was all over wid him in arnist; so with that I faced 
 tlic tinkereen of a corp'Iar, and says I — 
 
 'What brings the likes of you wid dacent boys, to 
 be after crimping 'em ft-om their people, and trans- 
 porting 'em to the wars?' when, well became him, he 
 stood up like any lord, and says he, 
 
 'My good woman, says he, 'the young man is in the 
 king's service, and in my care, so you had better go 
 about your business.' 
 
 'Myself filled up, and Mick, seeing me about to rise 
 a contention with the corplar, — 
 
 'Mother,' says he, "tis better for you to howld your 
 tongue, and to do as I bid you.' 
 
 'Och, it was then that I knew he was in hoult; but 
 Mr. Doyle, dear, (and Mary looked most imploringly 
 at Mrs. Doyle and me,_)won't you speak to the Major 
 — that's the raal moral of a fine man, and weighs 
 twenty stone, the Lord increase him ; or to ihe adjutant, 
 that's a mighty pretty, pleasant young gentleman, and 
 looks good nalured like ; or the captain.' 
 
 We desired Mary Dempsey, not to take this affair 
 so much to heart, as in all probal)ility it would end 
 better than she expected ; and I held forth to her in the 
 following strain : — 
 
 ' Mary your son must remain, if possible, where ho 
 is, (my only fear is, that Doctor L , the regi- 
 mental surgeon, will judge from his drunken and de- 
 bilitated look, that he is unfit for the service,) and I'll 
 tell you why : — 
 
 'First, you know that he is becoming a confirmed 
 drunkard, and that if he remains under his present 
 temptations, he has no reasonable chance of changing 
 his degrading course, (here Mary looked piteously, and 
 admitted that the whiskey was her son's ruination.) and 
 in the second place, he is setting a bad example in the 
 country ; it Ls better for all oar sakes, that hi should 
 
 to be well posted as to the geography of the country. 
 
 ' I wish to go to Greenfield,' said the collector ; — 
 ' now which is the shortest way ?' 
 
 ' Well, sir,' said the drover, 'you had better go to 
 Napoleon, and take the road leading nearly north.' 
 The traveller noted it down. 
 ' Well, if I wish to go to Edinburgh ?' 
 ' Then go to Napoleim and take the road west.' 
 ' Well, if I wish to go to Vcmon ?' 
 ' Go to Napoleon and take the road southwest. 
 'Or to Indianapolis?' asked the collector, eyeing 
 the drover clo sely, and thinking he was being imposed 
 upon. 
 
 ' Go to Napoleon and take the road northwest." 
 The collector looked at his note-book ; every direc- 
 tion had Napoleon on it ; he began to feel his mettle 
 rise, and he turned once more to the drover with — 
 ' Suppose, sir, that I wanted to go to the devil !' 
 The drover never even smiled, but he scratched his 
 head, and after a moment's hesitation said — 
 
 ' Well, my dear sir, I don't know of any shorter 
 road you could take than to go to Napoleon." 
 
 Got Him Tiikiie. — While a number of lawyers and 
 gentlemen were dining together at Wiscasset a faw 
 years ago, a jolly son of the Emerald Isle appeared 
 and called for dinner. The landlord told him he 
 should dine when the gentlemen were done eating. 
 
 ' Let him dine with us,' whispered a limb of the 
 law, 'and we shall have some fun with him." 
 
 The Irishman took his seat at the table. 
 
 ' You were not bom in this country," said one. 
 
 ' No sir ; I was born in Ireland.' 
 
 ' Is your father li\-ing ?' 
 
 ' No sir ; he is dead.' 
 
 • What is your occupation ?' 
 ' Trading horses.' 
 
 ' Did your father ever cheat any one while here ?' 
 ' I suppose he did cheat many, sir." 
 
 • Where do you suppose he went to ?' 
 
 • To heaven, sir." 
 ' Has he cheated any one there r' 
 
 • He cheated one I believe.' 
 ' AMiy did they not prosecute him ?' 
 ' Because they searched the whole kingdom of 
 
 heaven and couldn't find a lawyer.' 
 This last answer spoiled the whole of the fun in 
 be admitted into ihe army, where he will be carefally | the estimation of the limb of the law. 
 
 watched, and assuredly punished if he offends. ■ ■ ~ " ' 
 
 ' The dread of disgrace and punishment may arouse I Eternity is the lifetime of God. 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 -■^. 
 
 BALLYMENA. 
 
 The subject of the above illustration, is a flour- 
 ishing market town, situated in the centre of the 
 county of Antrim. Within the last ten years it has 
 been rapidly progressing in size and respectability. 
 At present it contains about one thousand houses, 
 with between four thousand and five thousand in- 
 habitants. 
 
 There are in Ballymena two Presbyterian houses 
 of worship, one meeting house in connection with 
 the Seeeders, a Koman Catholic chapel, an Episco- 
 pal church and a Methodist chapel. There are two 
 academies and a free school for the children of the 
 town and neighborhood, whose circumstances pre- 
 vent their attendance on the schools. 
 
 The country around Ballymena presents a very 
 beautiful appeaiance, being well cultivated, and 
 much ornamented by planting in various directions. 
 A little hill, standing to the westward of the town, 
 commands towards the south, a pleasant view of a 
 rich and cultivated valley, as well planted and as 
 amply ornamented with houses, orchards and hedge- 
 rows, as any vale in England. The cottages and 
 farm houses present that appearance of neatness 
 and comfort which distinguishes the province of 
 Ulster from many other parts of Ireland; the squal- 
 id misery, and extreme wretchedness apparent else- 
 where, and so irksome to the feelings of every be- 
 nevolent mind, not being apparent here. The peas- 
 antry are rather well infonned, and have in general 
 that idea of independence which gives to the lower 
 orders of this portion of the country such a decid- 
 ed advantage over those of the other districts of Ire- 
 land. They are, however, very superstitious, and 
 attached to many old customs and pastimes. 
 
 A short distance from the town is a rath or mound 
 of earth, connected with another mound, in the form 
 of an ampitheatre. It is fifty feet high, and being 
 planted with trees, forms a very pretty object, and 
 it is very well worthy of the inspection of the curi- 
 ous. 
 
 About seven miles irom Ballymeny, and in the 
 back ground of our illustration, is the celebrated 
 hill, Sleive Mish, where St. Patrick is said to have 
 tended the swine of Milco. 
 
 Rather more than two milcsfrom Ballymena, on 
 the Ahogill road, in the handsome village of Grace- 
 hill, a MoraFian settlement, which consists o'' about 
 
 forty houses and four hundred inhabitants, and forms 
 three sides of a. quadrangle — in front of which is a 
 very beautiful hedge-rowed pleasure-ground. Midway 
 to this Place is Galgorme cattle, at present the property 
 of Lord Mountcashel, and partially fitted up and in 
 habited by one of the agents to the estate. There is a 
 legend here relative to a former proprietor, who is Siiid 
 to have sold himself to the devil for a certain rernuner 
 ation in gold. The box which contained the treasure 
 being still to be seen in ope of the rooms of the castle. 
 
 This settlement was commenced about seventy-flve 
 years since, on a townland containing about two 
 hundred and twenty acres, taken from Lord O'Neill, 
 the entire of which is in a high state of cultivation, 
 numbers of comfortable cottages, and thriving gardens, 
 surrounded with luxuriant hedges, appearing in every 
 direction. 
 
 Midway from Ballymena to Ballymoney, somewhat 
 to the left, are seen the Craigs rocks, or Fort of Craigs, 
 which form a square of nine thousand feet in area, 
 with a very deep trench, close to which are three pillars 
 erect and tapering, supposed to have been placed there 
 in honour of some valiant chieftain slain in battle; and 
 but a short distance from them, in the hollow of a 
 high and craggy ridge, there is a cromlech, or druidical 
 altar — a slab of black heavy stone, one foot in thick- 
 ness, ten feet long, and eight broad, originally placed 
 upon five supporters. Beneath this is a chamber 
 which communicates with two others, about seven feet 
 square, and arched over — the whole standing within a 
 circle of hundred and thirty-five feet in circumference, 
 the ground underneath having formerly been hollowed 
 into a kind of cavern. A writer in Mason's Statistical 
 Survey, speaking of this place, observes — that it must 
 have been the theatre of great events in former times; 
 that it possesses more remains of antiquity than he has 
 any where seen in the same space of ground. The 
 place where the altar is erected is lonely and awful — it 
 induces thought, and brings back the memory to form- 
 er days, over which the mind broods with pleasure. 
 Here Fingal and his clans of Mournc and Boiskcnc 
 may have displayed their valor — Torgis and his Scan- 
 dinavians committed their ravages — Sourleboy ( i. e. 
 Yellow Charley) and his Scotch played off tlieir strata- 
 gems — or De Courcey and his English showed forth 
 their heroism. All are now gone; a total change of 
 laws, manners, religion, and war, has taken place — 
 and a rational religion and mild government have 
 blessed us with peace and knowledge. 
 
 Heroic Devotiok to his Art. — Mrs Mathewg, 
 in her ' Anecdotes of Actors,' gives an amusing in- 
 stance of this. In that scene in the play of ' Corn* 
 mittee,' where Obadiah has to swallow, with feigned 
 reluctance, the contents of a black quart bottle ad- 
 ministered to him by Teaguc, Munden was observed 
 one night to throw an extra amount of comicality 
 and vigor into his resistance, so much so that John- 
 stone, (' Irish Johnstone ') the Teague of the occa- 
 sion, fired with a natural enthusiasm, forced him to 
 drain the bottle to the last drop. The effect was 
 tremendous. The audience absolutely screamed 
 with laughter, and Obadiah was borne off half dead, 
 and no wonder. The bottle, which should have 
 contained sherry and water, was by some mistake, 
 half filled with the rankest lamp oil. We will let 
 Mrs. Mathews tell the rest : — 
 
 When the sufferer had in .some degree recovered 
 from the nausea the accident caused, Mr. Johnstone 
 marvelled why Munden should have allowed him, af- 
 ter his first taste, to pour the whole of the disgusting 
 liquid down his throat. ' It would,' Johnstone said, 
 ■ have' been easy to have rejected, or opposed a repeti- 
 tion of it, by hinting the mistake to him.' 
 
 Mr. Munden's reply — by gasps — was as follows : — 
 
 ' My dear boy — I was about to do so — but there was • 
 such a glorious roar at the first face I made upon 
 swallowing it, that I hadn't the heart to spoil the-scena 
 by interrupting the effect, though I thought I should 
 die every time you poured the accursed stuff down my 
 throat.' 
 
 An Irishman describing the trading powers of the 
 genuine Yankee, said : 'If he was cast away upon a 
 desolate island, he'd get up the next mornin' and go 
 round sellin' maps to the inhibitants.' 
 
 'Now, Thomas, what are you burning off my writing 
 table V said an author to his servant. 
 
 'Only the paper that was written all over. I have 
 not touched the clean,' was the reply. 
 
 Why are railway companies like laundresses? Be- 
 cause they have ironed all the continent of America, 
 and sometimes do a little mangling. 
 
 How pleasant it is for a father to sit by his child's 
 board. It is like the aged man reclining under the 
 shadow of the oak which he has planted. 
 
390 
 
 IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 THE COCK-FIQHT. 
 
 I and she liked » boy to hnve some spunk (spirit ;) 
 
 The course of our story lends us to the bank of 1 they nlwuys m«de better husbunds than one of your 
 a considerable river, on a lovelvevcning towards the I dead wigs. , , , , • J . i 
 
 la .e nd of April son.e of the earlier trcH.s in a* It m-t here be remarked, that the ep.thet boy 
 wood on .he opposite shore, were alr.-«dy clothed | is common to young men, and mdeed men who are 
 In soft green, and among their boughs innumerable not young 
 
 tenants of the nir were pouring forth their vesper 
 Bong ; not a breeze rippled the culm surface of the 
 stream, now tinged by the roseate hues of the de- 
 clining sun. 
 
 Two girls were seated close to the river in earnest 
 conversation, their cans filled with the pure ele- 
 ment, ready to put on thrir heads. 
 
 ' Yc wor'nt at the chapel a Sunday, Kitty," said 
 one. 
 
 •No i' said Kitty, ' my mother wasn't well.' 
 
 'I wish ye wor in id, nera one but the sight 'most 
 left my eyes fwhen I seen Xiuicy Brady." 
 
 • Ahfwhy so, Teggy ?" 
 
 ' Orah, Kitty, dear, she. was so drest ; sorra the 
 leks iver ye seen ; a fine new Lighorn bonnet, wid 
 a power of yalla ribbins, an a black veil." 
 
 ' Is it a veil ?" 
 
 • Aye indeed, a veil, agrah, sorra a many was on 
 her granny's ;' continued Peggy ; ' but stay tal ye 
 hear all ! A silk coat, my dear, an a scarlet shawl 
 near down to her heels ; new glous (gloves,) and to 
 be sure, a handkercher in her list." 
 
 < An a silk coat, too," repeated Kitty, 'Iwhat color 
 ■was it ?" 
 
 'Lik a dull green," said Peggy, ' I doubt it's a 
 cast off she bought from a dealer — it hadn't the skin 
 iv a new one. Och, iv ye seen her Kitty, sorra one 
 iv her knew iv she was on her head, or her feet, so 
 grand as she was.' 
 
 • I'm thinkin, Peggy dear, yc minded Nancy Bra- 
 dy more nor yer prayers." 
 
 'How could I help it, Kitty, wasn't she the shew 
 iv the whole chapel ? an all the boys afther her lik 
 any thin, an Frank Davis up to her hip lik a pock- 
 et." 
 
 • Frank Davis !' exclaimed Kitty. 
 
 < Aye indeed,' said Peggy, ' an fwhy would'nt he 
 an well as another, an faix a handsome boy he is 
 sorra the lek of him was in the chapel, an Nancy 
 Brady's very well, too, only she put a power iv paint 
 on her face — it was the moral iv the fire.' 
 
 She might have run on much longer uninterrupt- 
 ed by Kitty, who was immersed in thought. After 
 a silence of some minutes Peggy resumed. 
 
 ' Ah, then, I believe, Kitty, its fwhat ye're think- 
 in iv Frank Davis yerself; I hard it afore, an' yer 
 mother tellin that she'd never give in to it." 
 
 ' She didn't say so,' replied Kitty. 
 
 ' Nera word iv lie in it, myself was standin by." 
 
 ' Fwhat can any one say agin him, Peggy r" 
 
 ' The boy's well anough, Kitty, lowersha, it'd be 
 hard to meet his match, only they say he's too much 
 rfther the sport, an that his maslher faults him for 
 it." 
 
 ' That's some of Norah's lies, Peggj', bekase.he 
 wouldn't marry her daughter.' 
 
 ' Faux, may be so ; mysel doesn't know, only as 
 the people ses.' 
 
 Just then a loud voice was heard from the hill be- 
 hind them, calling out — 
 
 ' Horo, Peggy, will yc stay there all night r' 
 
 'There's my mother,' said the girl, 'will ye ciun 
 Kitty r 
 
 But Kitty was not in a hurry, and the other put- 
 ting her can on her head set off. Kitty was dis- 
 turbed by the gossip of lier companion ; she had 
 been long attached to Frank Davis, and the flame 
 was mutual. Her mother, who was a widow, did 
 not like the young man ; she said he was a gambler, 
 and said truly, that gamblers seldom make good 
 husbands. However, though Kitty heard Frank's 
 
 ' Ax me any thing in the world, an I'll do it,' re- 
 plied he. 
 
 ' It's only," and she hesitated a moment, • its only, 
 Frank, that ye won't cock-light any more,' 
 
 ' Here's my hand an word for ye, Kitty, that from 
 this day out, PU shun cock-fights, an not go agin 
 yc in anything.' 
 
 Frank Davis polled his little boat over the river 
 with a light heart that night, for the dearest Avish 
 of his heart was about to be realized ; he was fond- 
 ly attached to the pretty Kitty Moore, and longed 
 to call her his own. He was very young, and had- 
 made no provision for housekeeping; in fact, had 
 no money save what would he expended on the mar- 
 riage ; but what of that, thought he, I am strong 
 and willing to work, and God never sends mouths 
 into the world, but He sends them bread to eat, it 
 is better to marry than do worse.' 
 
 ■\Vith these fallacious arguments, too frequently 
 brought forward by our young countrymen and 
 women, Frank Davis put to silence a few qualms of 
 conscience. 
 
 The next day was the last of the week, and after 
 Mr. Arden's laborers had been dismissed, and that 
 gentleman was returning to his house, Davis follow- 
 ing him in silence. 
 
 ' Do you want any thing, Frank ?' said Mr. Ar- 
 den. 
 
 'To speak a word, ivye please. Sir.' 
 ' 'Well, what have you to say :' 
 ' I was wantin a little money the night, if it's con- 
 venient yer honor.' 
 
 ' Money, Frank, to be spent in gaming, if so, I 
 shall not give any.' 
 
 ' Shure sir, I'm no gambler, I wondher who told 
 yc lies iv me.' 
 
 'I want no one to tell me, Frank, you cannot be 
 ignorant that your work is neglected, or performed 
 in a slovenly manner, and how is your time spent? 
 at cock-fights, ball-alleys, and such like places.' 
 
 ' An beggin yer pardon, sir, shure that's no gam- 
 blin.' 
 
 ' Then pray inform me what you call gambling ?' 
 ' Playin wid the cards, pitch-an-toss, an' the lek, 
 Sir, I never cared for them, sorra card in the deck I 
 know beyant another.' 
 
 ' I trust you may long be so, Frank," said Mr. 
 Arden. 
 
 He then endeavored to explain the nature of 
 gaming, and warn the young man against it. 
 
 '■\VcU, well, see that now," replied Frank, 'I'm 
 thankful to ye. Sir, an never will folly the leks 
 agin.' 
 
 'Take care, Frank, do not be too confident in 
 your own strength ; and now let me tell you, that 
 if you do not give up all such practices we must 
 part. I shall give you the money, and hope it may 
 not be squandered in gaming.' 
 
 ' \Vid the help iv God, it won't, Sir.' 
 ' Seek that help, Frank, and you may be certain 
 of doing well.' 
 
 Though passionately fond of the cruel (certainly 
 miscalled royal) pastime of cock fighting, and hav- 
 ing two birds training for tlie usual battle on Kast- 
 
 But that Frank Davis should be paying attention 
 to any other, Kitty did not approve. She conceived 
 herself, and very justly, superior to Nancy Bjady 
 in personal channs ; to be surf she had not a silk 
 coat, nor a Lighorn bonnet with yalla ribbons, an a 
 black veil, and she would tell him her mind when 
 they met. 
 
 Immediately on Peggy's departure, a little boat 
 was pushed from amongst the reeds of the opposite 
 shore, and a man stepping on board, polled it noise- 
 lessly across the river, a short way in tlie rerc of 
 where Kitty was sitting; having drawn it ashore, 
 he stole lightly up, and putting his hands on her 
 eyes, cried — 
 
 ' A penny for yer thoughts." 
 
 She quickly disengaged herself, and said grave- 
 ly— 
 
 ' I want none iv yer freedom, Frank Davis." 
 ' Don't make so free, tal ye're better acquainted,' 
 replied the young man laughing and seating him- 
 self close by her, adding, ' be the laws, Kitty, ye 
 done it to the life, as cowld lookin as the snow ;' 
 and he took her hand, which she snatched from 
 him. 
 
 ' Faix, maybe it's in amest ye are,' he resumed. 
 'It's just in arnest I am,' she said, 
 'llooh, fwhat cum over ye the night?' 
 ' Nothin at all, thank God, but 1 might ax fwhat 
 cum over ye this whole week ?' 
 
 'It's not always I can get out, the masthcr watch- 
 es very closely — ye know Kitty, I'd cum iv I possi- 
 bly could." 
 
 ' Times was when ye would, but times is greatly 
 althcred.' 
 
 ' Not wid mc, Kitty, I'm always the ould six-and- 
 eight-pence.' 
 
 ' Only fwhen ye meet fine drest girls at the chap- 
 el.' 
 
 'Well, well,' interrupted Davis, 'some gabby 
 person was tellin ye that I was talkin to Nancy 
 Brady, last Sunday ; och, fwhat news they had." 
 
 ' An if ye leked, fwhy not ; she's a purty girl, a 
 dacent father an mother's child, an has grand 
 clothes,' said Kitty, endeavoring to speak calmly, 
 though she was greatly agitated, and her eyes lilled 
 with tears. 
 
 ' Iv I leked,' repeated Frank, ' an do ye think, 
 Kitty, bad as I am, I'd ever fancy sich a painted 
 thing r' 
 
 ' Shure hasn't slie a fine Lighorn bonnet, an a 
 veil :' said Kitty. 
 
 'ToBottamy wid her bonnet, an veil to boot," 
 cried Frank, ' fwhat do I care for her ; ye shouldn't 
 be listenin to lies.' 
 
 ' It's no lie that ye wor wid her afther mass a 
 Sunday," said Kitty, ' an iv ye think, Frank"— she 
 hesitated and he said — 
 
 ' Iv I think fwhat, Kitty ; I was walkin a piece j er Monday, yet Frank Davis resolved from that 
 wid Nancy Brady a Sunday, but it was to make time to give it up. His master did not approve of 
 game iv her, she was so proud. I tould ye often, it, and he did not wish to part so good a master ; and 
 an now agin, there isn't a girl in the world wide I i Kitty Moore, the prettiest girl in the parish, so dear- 
 
 care for but yersel,' and he added with emotion, 
 ' though they say this an that iv me, I wouldn't tell 
 ye a lie for the boat full iv gould.' 
 
 There is an old saying, that the falling out of lov- 
 ers more strongly rivets the chain ; and so it hap- 
 
 ly loved, and so soon to be his wife, wished him to 
 give it up — and he could not deny her any request. 
 He would part his cocks on the following day, and 
 never go to a cock-pit again. 
 
 Kitty Moore was early stirring the next morning, 
 
 pened on the present occasion. Before they parted ( not that she had many preparations to make against 
 
 it was arranged that on the ensuing Monday, being 
 the first after Easter, they were to be married; 
 she was to meet him in the evening, and then 
 
 love of pleasure very generally commented on, she ' proceed to the priest's house. 
 
 did not entirely credit it. The boy, she thought, is • An now, Frank dear," said Ki'.ty, ' I have one 
 
 fond of sport, and why not ? sure all boys ore so ; | thing to ax ye." 
 
 her marriage. Her wardrobe was not extensive, 
 therefore, she had not many choices ; but she was 
 restless, and so nervous that every sound startled 
 her. She was about to take an important step with- 
 out her mother's permission ; to unite herself to a 
 person to whom indeed she was warmJy attached. 
 
IRISH MSCELLANY. 
 
 391 
 
 but who she feared was greatly addicted to pleasure. 
 But marriage will settle him, she thought, having 
 heard old woman frequently say it was the only 
 thing to a tame wild young man. 
 
 We have heard dowagers in a more elevated rank 
 of life aver, that reformed rakes make the best hus- 
 bands ; but we think it rather a hazardous experi- 
 ment for a young female to unite herself to a dissi- 
 pated man, with the hope of reforming him ; in a 
 hundred instances to one it fails. But Kitty Moore 
 was young, and moreover deeply in love, therefore 
 did not pause to balance consequences. 
 
 'It's a fine day,' said her mother, 'Kitty, fwhy 
 but ye go to the chapel ; an share ye might go to 
 the cock-fights, or the dance afihcr.' 
 
 But Kitty did not wish to go out until evening. 
 In the course of the day she sought her friend Peg- 
 gy, and informed her what was to take place in the 
 evening. 
 
 ' Didn't I know well,' Peggy exclaimed, ' ye wor 
 fond iv Frank Davis, an God knows, a dacent clane 
 boy he is, but Kitty, acushla, fwhat does yer mother 
 say r' 
 
 ' She doesn't know any thing iv it, nor won't for 
 a fwhile,' replied Kitty. 
 
 ' Well the Lord send ye luck, any way ; did ye 
 see Frank the day, Kitty ?' 
 
 ' No, I'm not to meet him fwhere I tould ye, in the 
 evcniu' late, an' Peggy, avourneen, ye won't for- 
 get.' 
 
 'Never fere, Kitty, I'll do it." 
 
 What Kitty reminded her friend of, was to meet 
 her after the marriage, that they might walk home to- 
 gether. 
 
 The full orbed moon was emerging from behind the 
 eastern hills, as Peggy quitted the dance to meet her 
 friend ; she had to walk about half a mile, and after 
 getting away from her companions, all was silence, 
 save the occasional bark of a distant dog and the low 
 plantive notes of the night singing bird. Peggy was 
 tolerably stout-hearted ; however, she occasionally 
 looked around with a rather timid air, tor the field she 
 was traversing contained one of those forts said to be 
 the favored resort of fairies. But Peggy passed 
 through and arrived at the place of meeting without 
 encountcrin"- any of the gentry, where a scene awaited 
 her that absorbed every thought. 
 
 On tho ground lay Kitty Moore, insensible, with 
 Frank Davis kneeling, and holding up her head ; his 
 face all smeared with blood and dirt, his head bound 
 with a handkerchief, his clothes torn and muddy. 
 Pcgy clapped her hands and stood aghast for a mo- 
 ment. 
 
 'Aye, ye may well wondher,' said Frank, seeing the 
 gure, but not knowing to whom he spoke, 'she's lyin' 
 there an' I kilt her.' 
 
 'For God's sake,' at length cried Peggy, 'fwhat's 
 the matther wid Kitty V 
 
 'Didn't I tell ye I kilt her,' replied Davis. 
 
 'Ah Frank, fwhy Ijut ye open her cloke an' let the 
 win' about her,' said Peggy, tearing it open, she then 
 carried water in the hollow of her hand from a pool, 
 with which she plentifully wet Kitty's face, but for a 
 long time in vain, so that tho girl, in great alarm, 
 feared her friend was dead. However, she persevered, 
 and at length signs of reluming animation began to 
 appear. 
 
 When Kitty was able to speak she requested to be 
 brought home; Frank Davis wished to accompany 
 them, but this neither would permit. lie was reluc- 
 tantly persuaded to leave ihcm, on Peggy's promising 
 to see him in the morning, and let him know how Kit- 
 ty had passed the night. 
 
 It will be recollect d that Frank Davis set out that 
 morning with the determination of parting liis cocks, 
 and giving up fighting with them. 
 
 'Yu're early on the road tho day, Frank," said a 
 friend of his on overtaking him, 'goin' to prepare the 
 
 cocks, no doubt, an' a great fight it'll be ; Mr. , 
 
 is to have bis birds there.' 
 
 'I'm goin to sell my cocks,' replied Davis in a liesi- 
 tating tone. 
 
 'Is id sell yer cocks,' exclaimed the other, 'jokin' ye 
 are.' 
 
 "Faix, Billy, I'm in arnest.' 
 
 'The masthcr won't let yc keep them its lek.' 
 
 'Sure enough he's not very fond iv sport, but that's 
 not it all out, Billy, I'm goin' to bo marret.' 
 
 'Goin' to be marret I ' repeated Billy stooping short, 
 laying hold of Frank by the shoulder, and starting at 
 him earnestly. 
 
 •'I'ts truth^I tell you,' said Frank. 
 
 'Berthershin (may be so, any way it's quare how 
 quite ye kep it ; an' whoso the girl 1' 
 
 "Sure you might guess.' 
 
 'Nera one iv me knows ; maybe its Peggy Noon.', 
 
 'No, in troth.' 
 
 'Ye might see worse in a day's thravel, i'rank, but 
 I give it up.' 
 
 'Fwhat would ye think iv Kitty Moore, Billy V 
 
 'Kilty Moore,' repeated Billy, and a dark cloud 
 passed over his brow. 
 
 'Is'nt she a good girl V said Frank after a pause. 
 
 'Sorra betthcr," replied the other, assuming a tone 
 of cheerfulaess, 'an' I wish ye every luck, Frank ; but 
 sure that's no rason yc should give up yer fine two 
 cocks, an' sport — there's not the leks iv them in the 
 counthry round.' 
 
 'They're well trained, Billy, an'll be^shure to win, let 
 who's will get them.' 
 
 'Hooh, man don't let any one get them, tal ye take 
 one spree out iv them afore ye're tied for life.' 
 
 'I can't Billy, I gave my hand an' word to Kitty, I 
 would' nt keep them ; any way I'm to be marret the 
 night.' 
 
 'Neel arugher (no help for it,) cum along tal we see 
 fwhat ye'U do wid the cocks.' 
 
 On arriving at the place, they met many others on 
 the same intent ; of course they must treat each other. 
 Naggin led to naggin, and half pint to half pint, for 
 some would not be outdone by others, until the unsea- 
 soned heads of the party, among whom was Frank 
 Davis, was tolerably light. 
 
 Those who determine to forsake any besetting pro- 
 pensity, should, as a preliminary', avoid being led into 
 temptation : importunity and op|3ortunity are not easi- 
 ly withstood, and so poor Frank Davis found it. 
 
 Already elated by the spirits he had drank, the 
 bustle at the eock-pit put to flight all his new formed 
 resolutions, and he was all himself again. 
 
 We shall not enlarge on the scene of degradation. 
 
 Frank entered his cocks against those of Mr. , 
 
 they were beaten and he lost all the money he possess- 
 ed. He then got completely drunk, and- was well 
 drubbed by his friend Billy, who cut him deeply over 
 the eye, and left him nearly insensible in a ditch ; for, 
 in fact, Billy was himself fond of Kitty Moore. 
 
 It was late in the evening when Frank awoke to 
 consciousness ; and perfectly sober, he then recollected 
 his appointment, and how utterly impossible it was 
 for him to fulfil his promise to Kitty ; the thought 
 was bitter in the extreme, but he determined to go to 
 the place of rendezvous at all events. He bound a 
 handkerchief round his head, and crawled, as well as 
 ho was able, to where Kitty had long been waiting 
 with agonized thoogbts and fears for his delay, and 
 when he did appear Ijefore her in that state, we shall 
 not attempt to describe her feelings : warm and afl'ec- 
 tionatc, they received a shock, time alone could heal ; 
 and on hearing him distractedly tell his hopeless tale, 
 animation Hed, and in this stale she was found by 
 
 Peggy. 
 
 The sequel is soon told. Kitty Moore, before, the 
 dawn of the following day, in the presence of Peggy, 
 solemnly promised her mother, never more to see or 
 speak to Frank Davis ; and the young man on hear- 
 ing this death blow to his hopes, enlisted in a regiment 
 bound for foreign service, and left the country never 
 to return. Dissipation, and the burning sun of a 
 tropical climate, soon finished his career, and he fell, 
 another victim added to tlie many who are yearly im- 
 molated at the shrine of gambling. 
 
 An Ai.THnNATivn. — An old Scotch tailor hap" 
 pened to have a helpmate of a very peevish and 
 querulous turn in her temper. 
 
 ' I'm gaun to dee, Andrew,' said the wife. 
 
 'Are yof replied the tailor, as coolly as if ho had 
 been trying the temper of his goose. 
 
 ' Are ye ?— is that the way you speak, when I'm 
 telling you that I'm gaun to leave you forever ? — 
 Ye're na to lay my bancs here amang the riffraff o' 
 Linlithgrow, but take them to Whitburn, and lay 
 them beside my gude mother and father." 
 
 Andrew, esteeming a promise made to a person 
 on the verge of time as sacred, and not wishing to 
 put himself to the expense, (which indeed he could 
 ill afford) waived giving any answer, but led on a 
 different conversation. 
 
 ' Do you hear, Andrew ?' 
 
 ' Oh, yes, I hear.' 
 
 ' Weel, mind what I'm saying ; take me to With- 
 
 bum, or I'll rise and trouble you night and day ; 
 
 do you hear ?' 
 
 ' Y'es, yes, I hear perfectly. Is that pain in your 
 side troubling ye yet ?' 
 
 ' Oh, aye ! I'm a' pain thegither ; but the maist 
 pain to me is, that you'll lay my dust here at Lin- 
 lithgrow.' 
 
 'Oh, woman, dinna distress yoursel' about that 
 simple eireum stance. 
 
 'Mind, I'U no lie here ; ye maun take me to With- 
 burn ! I'll trouble ye if ye dinna, and ye may de- 
 pend on't.' 
 
 ' AVeel, weel, then, if ye maun be buried at With- 
 bum, I canua help it ; but we'U try ye at Linlith - 
 grow first.' 
 
 A»f Indian Lovek. — Miss Bishop, the writer of 
 'Floral Home,' who went to Minnesota as a teacher, 
 received an offer of marriage from an Indian. He 
 came to her dwelling decked in all his finery — scarlet 
 flannel, rings, feathers, newly secured brass ornaments 
 and bear's claws, and through an interpreter an- 
 nounced to her that she must be his wife. It was 
 urged that he had one wife. He replied, 'All the band 
 have as many as they can keep, and I have but one.' 
 As an extra inducement, he promised that she could 
 have the best corner of the lodge, hunt by his side, and 
 eat with him, while the dark squaw was to hush the 
 papoose, cook the food, carry the game, plant and hoe 
 the corn, and provide wood ami water. Miss Bishop 
 a little in fear of the 'green-eyed monster,' even if the 
 other claimant did hold an inferior position, declined 
 the distinction. The Indian then begged a dollar to 
 buy a shirt, and left with a haughty air. Next day he 
 was drunk. But Miss Bishop's associate almost fared 
 worse; she had been only a few weeks in the country, 
 and was ignorant of Indian customs; a young warrior, 
 smitten with her, called often; hoping to be rid of him 
 she gave him a ring; he interpreted it as a token of 
 partiality, and returned to take her to his lodge; tho 
 next day he again returned with six young braves to 
 compel her to go with him. Explanations and inter- 
 ference saved her. 
 
 The origin of the word 'wife' has recently been the 
 subject of some discussion. Trench, a hijih authority 
 on the 'study of words,' remarks the word belongs to 
 the same family as weave, woof, web, and the German 
 weben. It is the title given to a person who is en- 
 gaged at the web and woof, those having been the 
 most ordinary branches of female industry, and wifely 
 employment, when the language was forming. So 
 that in the word itself is wrapped up a hint of earnest, 
 in-door, stay-at-home occupations, as being fittest for 
 her who bears the name. 
 
 ' My children,' said .m old lady, 'I am the root 
 and you are the branches.' 
 
 • Grandma,' said one. 
 
 ' What my child ?' 
 
 ' I was thinking how much better the branches 
 would flourish if the root was under the ground.' 
 
8^2 
 
 IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 The above engraving, which we have entitled 
 'Minding the Com,' is from a painting which was 
 received with great favor at the exhibition of the 
 British Institution. The subject, which is an Irish 
 peasant's child, engaged in preventing the crows 
 from committing their devastations on the young 
 com, i« one familiar to all those acquainted with 
 the rural scenery of their native land, and will com- 
 mend itself to all, for its simplicity and truthful- 
 ness to nature. 
 
 The Olean Adve rtiscr tells the following story of 
 a 'hoss doctor,' well known in and about those 
 parts: — 
 
 The doctor was at a neighboring village lately, 
 boasting that he could remove from any horse, 
 ring bones, spavins, and everything of that nature 
 — in short he could take off anything nature had 
 not placed on the beast. 
 
 'I have a horso in the stable,' says our friend, 
 'and he has something upon him I have been trying 
 to remove for six months past, without success, 
 and if you remoye it I will give you ten dol- 
 lars!' 
 
 'I can do it,' said the doctor; 'and if I fail, why 
 then I will give you twenty dollars. Show me the 
 animal!' 
 
 The two started, followed by a crowd of wits, 
 expecting an explosion. The doctor was shown a 
 
 MINDING THE CORN. 
 
 horse worth .fSSO, and without a blemish. He ex- I 
 amined his hoofs, legs, head and every part of him, | 
 and raising himself up to his full height, confident- I 
 ly declared — 
 
 'Nothing ails that are 'oss, as I can see!' | 
 
 'No,' said the wag, 'nothing ails the horse, but I 
 you allowed you could take anything off of him, 
 that nature had not put there.' 
 
 'Yes,' said the doctor, 'I can or I will forfeit the 
 twenty dollars. Show me the defect and I will re- 
 move it.' 
 
 'Here it is,' said the joker. 'It's a chatcl mort- 
 gage for §150!' 
 
 The doctor could not take this off, and was, of 
 course, 'sold.' 
 
 'Well, look a here, old feller, give us the pole, 
 will yer?' 
 
 And the pole was swallowed. 
 
 LiaviDATiNO A Debt. — The power of strong 
 drink was forcibly illustrated at one of the bar 
 rooms at Pittsficld, Miss., the other day. It ap- 
 pears that a certain old soaker had been building a 
 'bob sled' for the proprietor, and wetting his whis- 
 tle pretty freely at the bar 'on actount,' as the work 
 went on. At last the bar-keeper made the re- 
 mark: — 
 
 'What , you here again? 'Why you have 
 
 , drank that sled all up except the pole, now!' 
 I The customer was taken aback for a moment, 
 but leaning resolutely over the bar, he at length 
 exclaimed: — 
 
 BEfssELs Lace The spinning of the fine thread 
 
 used for lace making in the Netherlands, is an ope- 
 ration demanding so high a degree of exquisite 
 skill, minute manipulation, and vigilant attention, 
 that it appears impossible that it can ever be taken 
 from human hands by machinery. None but Bel- 
 gian fingers are skilled in this art. The very finest 
 sort of this thread is made in Brussels, in damp, 
 underground cellars, for it is so extremely delicate 
 that it is liable to break by contact with the dry 
 air above ground; and it is obtained in good condi- 
 tion only, when made an kept in a humid, subtcra- 
 neous atmosphere. There are numbers of old Bel- 
 gian thread makers, who, like spiders, have passed 
 the best part of their lives spinning in cellars. This 
 sort of occupation naturally has an injurious effect 
 on the health, and the eye-sight of the operatives 
 is impaired at an early age. 
 
 Hiou Blood High blood, like the finest wine, 
 
 may be kept so long that it shall entirely lose its 
 flavor. Hence, the last man of an old family may 
 be like the last bottle of a famous vintage — a thing 
 to talk of, not to use. 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 THB 
 IRISH MISCELLANY 
 
 Is published weekly, mid devoted to the interests and vlu' 
 dioatiou of the Irish people throughout the world. 
 
 Tlie MiseeUany republishes each week one whole number 
 ol the old ' Dublin Penny Journal,' with original und 
 selected essays, reviews, poetry, &c., by Irishmen, oi' lirst- 
 rate ability. It also contnius beautifnl Victorinl Illustra- 
 tions of Irish scenery and other objects of interest, among 
 which may be enumerated engravings ol the ancient cae- 
 tles and round towers, the mine of the old churches, the 
 plundered monasteries, convents and abbeys of Ireland. 
 
 It will also contain correct I'ictorinl representations ol 
 works of art executed by Irishmen ol the present day, as 
 well as iu former times, in this country and throughout 
 Europe. 
 
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 flhould be addressed 
 
 * To the Editors of the 
 Irish Miscellany, 
 Boston, Mass.' 
 All letters of a private nature must be accompanied with 
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 as they are not worthy of publication. 
 
 We shall attend to other corrcspondenU iu oar next. 
 
 IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 BOSTON, SATURDAY, JULY 31, 1858 
 
 OUR NEW VOLUME. 
 
 The next number of the Miecelluny, will complete the 
 first volume of our publication, and while making |he an- 
 nouncement, we seize the occasion tor the purpose of ten- 
 dering thanks to those of our friends who have so generous- 
 ly contributed to our support. To start, and successfully 
 carry on an ordinary newspaper, so that it will, in a rea- 
 sonable space of time, become remunerative to its jiroprie- 
 tors, is a task not easily accomplished, and which consum- 
 mation does not generally happen in one case out ot a hun- 
 dred. Our enterprise, being of a nature entirely different 
 from that of any other Irish paper heretofore established 
 in this country — requiring a much greater expenditure of 
 capital, and artistic talent — caused us serious misgivings, 
 and a constant fear that it would not meet the derires and 
 expectations of our patrons. How far our efforts have been 
 successful, It is for tliem to decide; but we trust that it wiil 
 not be considered egotistical on our part when we assert 
 that the Miscellany has far exceeded the most sanguine ex- 
 pectations of partial friends, and that even those who have 
 been enemies from the start, have made suitable acknowl- 
 edgement of its merit. 
 
 Since we have had the control of the Miscellany, our way 
 has not been— 
 
 'The primrose path of dalliance ' 
 We have been beset by obstacles innumerable j but having 
 a strong coniidence in our ultimate success, we were deter- 
 mined to surmount all barriers, and though we have not, 
 as yet, brought the paper to that pitch of perfection which 
 is our desire, we trust soon to make it as acceptable as is 
 possible to our readers. 
 
 With our new volume, we shall commence various inno- 
 vations, tending to the improvement of the paper. We 
 will appear with a new heading, which will be much more 
 graceful and suitable than the one we now have, and iu ev- 
 ery way an improvement; we shall also give each week, an 
 epitome of Iris'h news— not the hacknied local quotations 
 which interest only the few, but extracts from the leading 
 journals, which will be gratifying to the many. In this 
 respect, we will not be following in the steps of any of our 
 contemporaries, but, on the contrary, will be striking out 
 a path eminently our own. It will also be our aim to give 
 the best class of wood engravings which can be procured, 
 portraying national subjects, and as our outlay in this re- 
 spect will be infinitely largerthan that of any Irish journal 
 published in this country, we look for a commensurate re- 
 turn. In short, it is our irtention to make the paper meet 
 the requirements of all classes of readers. 
 
 As an inducement, therefore, to new subscribers, we offer 
 to each person who will pay one years' subscription in ad- 
 vance, commencing with the first number of the second 
 volume, directly to us or through any of our authorized lo- 
 cal or travelling agents, a complete file of the paper from 
 the beginning, together with a copy oi our Gitt Picture, 
 representing Sarsfield's Surprise of the Seige Train of the 
 Prince of Orange. When completed, each volume of the 
 Miscellany will form a book of four hundred and six- 
 teen {416) pages, and will, alone be worth the price of an 
 entire year's subscription. The same inducements are offer- 
 ad to clubs, as to single subscribers. 
 
 Our first Gift Picture, we are pleased to state, is so far 
 advanced, that we shall be enabled to present it to our sub- 
 scribeisat the close of the present volume. The design, 
 is from the pencil of D. M. Carter, Esq., of New York, 
 whose celebrated pictures of 'Covering the Retreat from 
 Breeds Hill,' and 'Decatur's Attack upon Tripoli,' have won 
 for him a reputation as an historical painter, second to none 
 in this country, not even excepting Col. Trumbull. The 
 det'ign is perfection; the grouping executed with masterly 
 effect: the costumes historically correct; and the whole 
 subject is treated in a manner that reflects the highest hon 
 or on the artist, and which would do credit to a Vcn.et. 
 The centre figure represents the gallant Sarslield, in all the 
 glow of youthful manliness, mounted on a charger, and 
 his sword "flashing witli bloody execution,' while around 
 him are his prostrate foes. The picture contains some two- 
 fcud-twenty figures, and is a spirited and life-like represen- 
 tation of a -heady fight.' The lithographing has been done 
 by Mr. Colo, a talented young artist of this city, and the 
 printing will beexecuted by ihe well-known firm of Power 
 & Wellcr, which is a guarantee that it will be perfornud in 
 the must faithful manner. 
 
 PICNIC OF THE 
 
 YouNO Catholics' I"iukm> .Sociktv. 
 The Picnic of the above named association, which was 
 postponed on account of the weather, is to take place in 
 Abington Grove, on Tuesday the 3d of August. The nu- 
 merous calls made upon the Society during the past winter, 
 having^conipletely exhausted their funds, they look to the 
 prooeeds of the Picnic to enable them lo meet their liabili- 
 
 ties. A band of music will accompany the party, and a 
 pleasant day may bo expected. We advise our friends to 
 attend. Tickets 75 cents— children 50 cents. Cara leave the 
 Old Colony Depot at A.M., and 12 1-2 P.M. 
 
 OUR PICTURE GALLERY- 
 
 TO AGENTS AND SUBSCKIBEllS. 
 
 Owing to the length of time which must of necessity be 
 occupied in the production of our Gift picture, we arc re- 
 luctantly compelled to postpone its presentation for a short 
 period. 
 
 We have, also, determined to change the subject some- 
 what, and instead ot the blowing up of the siege and bag- 
 gage trains, intend to give the surprise and rout of the 
 forces of the Prince of Orange by Sarsfield, just previous to 
 the blowing up. The picture is now in the hands of Mr. D. 
 M. Carter of New York, an artist of eminent ability, and 
 who, we are sure, will do the subject every justice, if we 
 may judge from his famous military picture of 'covering 
 tlie retreat at Breed's Hill.' 
 
 The size of the picture will be seventeen inches by eleven, 
 with suitable margins, and will be a splendid subject for 
 framing. 
 
 In reply to numerous enquiries, we beg to say that every 
 person who has taken the Miscellany from the first, either 
 by paying us iu advance, or by purchasing it regularly at a 
 periodical store will be entitled to all our Gifts. Persons 
 intending to become subscribers should forward us their 
 subscriptions at once. 
 
 New subscriptions can commence at any time previous to 
 the publication of our first picture, which will be issued at 
 the earliest possible moment. 
 
 A casual purchaser of our paper cannot expect to receive 
 a picture worth ffil,50. We again ask our agents and sub- 
 scribers to send in their orders immediately? 
 
 OUR NEXT NUMBER. 
 
 The next number of the Miscellany for the week 
 ending Saturday, August 7th, will contain large and 
 spirited views of 
 
 Tbestemship Indian Empire, also 
 
 A view of the city of Galway, taken from the deck of the 
 Innian Empire. 
 
 The Miscellany will contain the usual variety of original 
 and selected matter and the number will be a rich one. 
 
 Send in your orders at once. The paper will be issued 
 on Monday, the2d inst., and will be sold by all periodical 
 dealers and newsmen generally. 
 
 NOS. FOUR AND FIVE. 
 
 Having completed the necessary arrangements, we will 
 with our regular number lor next week, issue an ex- 
 tra edition of No 4; and on the following week, No. 5. 
 Will our agents take notice of this fact, and send in their 
 
 orders as soon as possible? 
 
 TRAVELLING AGENTS WANTED. 
 
 A CHANCE TO MAK.E MONET. 
 
 We have determined to appoint a number of Travelling 
 Agents, to travel in the various States of theUnionand 
 canvass for subscribers for this paper We do this at the 
 earnest request of many warm friends, who think we do 
 not take the requisite steps to make the paper known as ex- 
 tensivelj as it ought to be. 
 
 Persons desirous of becoming Travelling Agents, who 
 can be well recommended, are requested to apply at our 
 oflice forthwith. None but faithful, reliable men need ap- 
 ply. To such a liberal commission will be allowed. Apply 
 at ourPublication Oflice, 4 Water street, Boston. 
 
 CLUBS! CLUBS!! CLUBS!!! 
 
 There is no town or village so small, but a club of six or 
 more subscribers for the Irish Miscellany can be easily ob- 
 tained. Will those of our friends who are well-wishers ol 
 the land of their birth, do us the favor of getting up Clubs. 
 Our terms will be — 
 To a club of six persons sent to one address, ^10,00 
 
 Toa club of twelve, 19.00 
 
 The whole of the money must invariably be scut at one 
 remittance, and in advance. 
 
 In addition to this great reduction of price, each member 
 of a Clui) wil! be entitled to copies of all our splendid Gift 
 J*ictures. Let our friends exert them.^elvcs, and by their 
 patronage make the Miscellany the foremoftt Irish journal 
 on this continent. 
 
 BACK NUMBERS. 
 
 Back numbers of the Mi^eeIIany. from the commence- 
 ment of the poiKT. may be procured through any of our 
 regular agents, or by sending direct to the oflice of publi 
 cation, No. 4 Water street, lloston. Will our Iricuds in 
 want bear this fact in mind? 
 
39 4 
 
 IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 1 
 
 WriKin I'ortlii! ML-ocll»uy. 
 THE VOICE OF AN EXILE. 
 
 BY IIOHUHIA. 
 
 'Say, arc ye (Viciidi to freedom f 1 am licr's! 
 Li'l III', forget ru I of oil coiuuou fliuila 
 liully urouiid licr ehriuc' 
 
 Ulinll wc live forever aigbiug 
 
 OVrtliu glories nliioli arc tlcdr 
 Is ilio bright hope in us dying, 
 
 AVhich Aucli mdiuncc round ut) ttbeU.' 
 Are the dn'uiuD forever vunirlied 
 
 01 a nation proud and IVee.' 
 From our bcarls Imve wc this bnoishcd:— 
 
 Vcugeaucv ; we shall yet be IHx '. 
 
 Wrougtt unuumbcn-'d you have borne, 
 
 'Heath the fool oppressor'n yoke,— 
 Breaks the light on every morn. 
 
 But your chains arc still unbrokc; 
 Shinei^it brightly in dcrieiou 
 
 Of thy abject, sinile slate. 
 Like the light that through a prison, 
 
 Bursts upuu its lone inmate. 
 
 Airy phantoms e'er pursuing, 
 
 Luring to a boundless goal, 
 Still forever basely suing, 
 
 Lowly prostrating thy soul; 
 Digging up some ancient glory 
 
 From time's ruins, deep and wide, 
 Seeking in the page of story 
 
 Uow a hero lived and died. 
 
 Is that spirit now departed, 
 
 Which was thine in days of yore? 
 Have the the brave and noble-hearted, 
 
 All been driven from thy shore? 
 Where's the spirit pure aud warm 
 
 Of that epoch,' brief but bright, 
 When like lightning in a storm. 
 
 Burst upon fliee freedom's light! 
 
 Have thy martyred duels and sages 
 
 Shed for thee their blood in vain? 
 Uavc the cruel wrongs of ages. 
 
 Of the Saxon tyrant train 
 Been forgotten? Is thy spirit 
 
 Bowed down unto the earth? 
 Are there left no souls to rear it. 
 
 And regain thy native hearth? 
 
 Will you calmly gaze upon them 
 
 With a cold, unheeding eye.' 
 While your father's blood is on them, 
 
 Will you pa&jively stand by? 
 Will you hug the chains that bind you? 
 
 Has their disnuil clank grown sweet? 
 Do ul last, your tyrants lind you 
 
 Basely kneeling attheir feet? 
 
 Ob ;« nation which caresses 
 
 And exulting hugs her chain, 
 And the hand that binds them, blesses. 
 
 Never more can rise again. 
 Not lor this thy patriots iK'ri.^hcd 
 
 Who had strove to make thee fi-ec, 
 Kot such hopes as these they cherished 
 
 Wlicn their lives they gave to thee. 
 
 Oh! ye martyrs who had risen 
 
 To expel her tyrants all, 
 Po your. "hades within your prison, 
 
 Kver weep your country's fall ? 
 Yes, thy patriots they may banish 
 
 To those climes beyond the sea, 
 But their sjiirit shall not vanish,— 
 
 It will yet bear fruit lor thee. 
 
 Written lor the Miscellany. 
 THE LORD'S PRAYER. 
 
 BY J. 6P&TTI8WOODK. 
 
 Our Father who dwells on high, 
 
 Ever hallowed be Thy name. 
 As this Bowery earth and starry sky 
 
 Thy power and love proclaim; 
 
 May lliy kingdom come on earth, 
 
 And Thy holy will be done, 
 As the planets roll since creation's birth, 
 
 Obedient to the eon; 
 
 Cirunt us our daily bread, I 
 
 (;ive us this, night and day, 
 And when life like a troubled drvam has sped, 
 
 Kecoive our souls, wo pray ; 
 
 Our trespasses we rciwut, 
 
 Our weaker brother's fault 
 At Thy high conmmnd we here relent. 
 
 With no reserving thought ; 
 
 Fond vigil above ns keep. 
 
 From temptation point the way. 
 As the pole star o'er the trackless deep 
 
 Lends the sailor guiding ray; 
 
 The kingdom is Thine own. 
 
 The power and glory too,— 
 From the children of eailh unto Thy throne, 
 
 Are ceaseless praises due. 
 
 Written for the Mi.sccllany. 
 NOTES FROM A JOURNAL. 
 
 iiY J. li. r. 
 No. 6 — Skibbercen to Limerick. 
 
 After spending Sunday in Skibbercen, -vve took 
 our scats on one of Bianconi's cars, on our -way to 
 Bandon. Some of the thirsty passengers would 
 occasionally alight at one of the numerous way- 
 side inns, or shebeen shops, to take a 'drop of 
 somctliing warn>,' although the thermometer was 
 up to 80 dcgi ees in the shade. These shebeens 
 generally have sign-boards, bearing verses, devices, 
 latin quotations, &c. On one of them, said to be 
 kept by Judy JIahony, is the following verse, 
 printed under the picture of a bee-hive: — 
 'Within this hive 
 We're all alive, 
 Good liquor makes us funny; 
 If you are dry, 
 Step in and try 
 The flavor of our liouey.' 
 AVe passed through Rosscarberry and Clonahilty, 
 the latter of which is a pretty large town. 
 
 The mail-car arrived in Bandon at noon. The 
 town is very pretty, embosomed in trees and sur- 
 rounded by neat villas and country residences. It 
 is built on the river of the same name and has many 
 fine chm'chcs and public buildings. The town was 
 formerly noted for its Orangcism, and a report was 
 at one time made to the King that tlicre was 'no 
 Popish rccussant living in the town.' It is also 
 said that the following lines were carved upon the 
 bridge, leading into the town:— 
 'Turk, Jew or Atheist 
 May enter here, but not a Tapist.' 
 
 Some one, probably a Papist, wrote underneath, 
 these: — 
 
 'Whoever wrote it, wrote it well, — 
 The same Is written on the gate of hell.' 
 The times have changed, however, and Catholics 
 arc now numerous in Bandon. It was late when 
 we jumped aboard the train for Cork, arriving in 
 the second city in Ireland at dusk, and were sung to 
 sleep in the Imperial Hotel by some psalm-singers in 
 a church near by. 
 
 A\'e procured a post-car to proceed to Mallow, 
 to-day, and passing throush Blarney, we again 
 stopped at the Castle to witness the remarkable feat 
 of a lady kissing the huge stone which juts out, 
 some two feet from the top of the Castle. It seems 
 that a wager was laid between a lady and gentle- 
 man, as to whether the former would kiss the Blar- 
 ney stone, he betting she would not, anj she vice 
 versa. Tlie lady ascended to the top alone; flung 
 her glove at her opponent beneath, swung herself 
 over, gave the stone a ringing smack, (at least I 
 suppose so, for the distance was a little to far to 
 hear) and then descended to the ground amid the 
 cheers of the ciowd. 
 
 Vi'c now visited the subterranean cave, which 
 leads undemeatli the Castle, and had entered some 
 few yards, when our stock of matches, paper, &c., 
 gave out, BO wc were obliged to retrace our steps. 
 
 The light had a beputiful effect, rendering the damp 
 of ages on the walls like stalaetytes of glass, and 
 if provided with torches, wc would have explored 
 it to the end, notwithstanding the screeching of the 
 rats beneath ovr feet. 
 
 Mounting a jaunting ear, our 'Larry Doolan' of a 
 driver amused us with stories and anecdotes while 
 driving towards Mallow. NVhen within a few miles 
 of the town, we noticed a dilapidated looking cas- 
 tle, and 'Larry' told us that it was the famous Cas- 
 tle-Barrett, the wealth of whose ancient owner was 
 so great that the peasants could hear the jingling on 
 the castle stairs, of the golden tassels hanging from 
 his wife's dress, when half a mile off! I believe this 
 is tlie castle which once belonged to the English 
 Catholic family of Barrett, and which was destroy- 
 ed by one of the Irish chieftains, who, when told 
 that its proprietor was of the same religion as him- 
 self, replied: — 
 
 'A\'hat matter! I hate him for being an English 
 churl!' 
 
 Arriving in Mallow, we dismissed our driver and 
 went to visit the famous spa, said to have the effect 
 df either killing or curing a consumptive patient. 
 There are a number here now trying its efficacy. 
 While waiting for the train in the depot, I could 
 not help noticing the difference between its arrange- 
 ments and those in America. There are three re- 
 freshment rooms, for the first, second and third 
 class passengers, so that 'my Lord' with the gold- 
 headed cane, and 'honest Pat' with the time-honor- 
 ed shillelah, do not eat in one room, nor even walk 
 the same passage-way. Out upon such English 
 teachings! Give me America, where 
 
 ''fhe rank is but the guinea's stamp, 
 The man's the gowd for a' that.' 
 
 The arrival of the train put an end to my cogita- 
 tions, and we were soon steaming over the road and 
 in less than an hour alighted at Kilmallock. Here 
 wc intended to stop for the night, but the only ho- 
 tel in the ruined town was full; so after supper, we 
 thought it best to take a moonlight walk to Lime- 
 rick, a distance of only twenty miles! Passing 
 through numerous ruined gateways oi abbeys and 
 castles, we were soon on the highway. It was 
 8 o'clock, P.M., when we left, and at 9 we were in 
 Bruff, 1 miles on our journey. Here there had been 
 a fair held during the day, and it was with difficul- 
 ty we elbowed our way through the crowd, some of 
 whom seemed to have partaken rather freely of the 
 'crathur.' For a few miles further on our journey, 
 we had plenty of company, although not exactly 
 the kind we wanted, for some of them would step 
 up to us, and ask us if we had anything to say 
 against the 'SluUowneys,' at the same time flour- 
 ishing a 'kippeen of a stick' most scientifically, 
 within an inch of our heads. AVe Avould of course 
 make answer that the 'MuUowney's' all 'came from 
 daeent people,' and then there would be an invita- 
 tion to step into Paddy Hegarty's at the cross-roads 
 and take a 'sup of poteen,' at the expense of one of 
 the 'MuUowney's.' 
 
 The night soon became pitch dark, a heavy mist 
 prevailed, and no sound could be heard, save the 
 low moaninc of the wind as it whistled through 
 the trees; and the distant barking of some unruly 
 cur. Once, and once only, the black cloud rolled 
 away, and allowed the moon to illumine our path 
 for an in.stant, when to our terror we discovered a 
 bull on the road behind us, who immediately made 
 after us, seemingly wishing us to take a horn, which 
 we declined by using our stiffened limbs to some 
 advantage, although heaven kjiows, another 'horn' 
 would not be refused, for our lips were parched 
 with thirst. 
 
 A few miles tartber on, we discovered the outline 
 of a man sitting on a wall directly opposite us, and 
 going nearer wc saw that it was a policeman, gun 
 in hand. AVe stood looking at him for some time, 
 but he 'spoke not a word,' neither did we, and we 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 395 
 
 and we moved silently on, leaving the 'Peeler' 
 'alone in his glory.' 
 
 Being uncertain as to whether we were on the 
 right road or not, we determined to enqxiire of the 
 first person we met. Pretty soon the rumbling of 
 wheels was heard, and straining our eyes, we saw 
 a man sitting in a car, driving his nag at an easy 
 l)ace and 'whistling aloud to keep his courage up.' 
 We bawled o\it — 
 
 'Is this tlie road to Limerick?' 
 
 Tlie mim evidently did not see us, for the whist- 
 ling stopped and the crack of a whip was heard on 
 the horse's back, and away he went, thinking, no 
 doubt, that he met the 'ould boy,' or some other 
 highwayman! 
 
 Soon after this, we came upon a band of gipsies, 
 some six or seven in number, who had taken their 
 'lodging on the cold ground.' Not daring to rouse 
 them from their blissful ignorance, we stepped 
 softly by them and soon arrived at a gate on the 
 road, which impeded our further progress, so we 
 jumped over a wall, determined to wait, like Mr. 
 Micawber, 'for something to turn up.' We finally 
 dozed off, and forgot our perils in the dreamy god's 
 arms. 
 
 [To be continued.] 
 
 "Written for the Miscellany, 
 WALKS AND TALKS. 
 
 BY TERNON. 
 
 ' 'As I walked by myself, 
 
 I talked to myself, 
 
 And thus myself said to me.' 
 
 In our general glance at the Government buildings, 
 to-day, we notice their imitation ot old Roman and 
 Grecian models. It was intended that AVashington 
 should be a Rome or an Athens. Very well ; though 
 it shall be something better than either ; and, at 
 least, let its architecture be adapted to its climate, 
 and to the requirements of modern life. 
 
 Look at the Capitol, for instance, the first erect- 
 ed, the chief in importance, and which should be 
 the best of our National edifices. Long and low, it 
 wants dignity. I speak of it as before the exten- 
 sion — since, it is worse. Then, to give it elevation, 
 a huge dome crowned the centre, a thing misshapen 
 and out of proportion, overpowering what it was 
 designed to ornament. As the late addition of 
 wings began to rise, it became evident that the great 
 dome would never do — it wasn't high enough — and 
 many thousands of dollars were demanded to tum- 
 ble it down and erect a sort of church-steeple in its 
 place. The Capitol as it was, resembled a plate with 
 an egg on end in the centre, (perhaps in commemo- 
 ration of the egg-feat of Columbus ;) the Capitol as 
 it will be, will present the appearance of a larger 
 plate, with the centre marked by a lightning-rod. 
 This may induce the fiery element of the air to spare 
 it, but conscious earth caJinot. The original building 
 was too low, only a basement, two stories and attic ; 
 hence the dome, to 'heighten' its effect: — the ex- 
 tension made it appear lower still ; hence the steeple. 
 And the dome at first was ugly and out of propor- 
 tion to the building ; while now the building seems 
 ugly and out of proportion to the steeple ! It must 
 be admitted that the design of the steeple itself is 
 beautiful and grand ; it is only its location that 
 causes me to condemn it. It destroys the edifice, 
 sinks it into insignificance. The spectator will think 
 of nothing but the steeple ; it will appear to him 
 like a Chinese pagoda, rising tower-like at opce from 
 the earth. Tlie effect will be precisely such as that 
 of the equestrian statue of Jackson, in front of the 
 Presidential Mansion : there is no fitness of things. 
 The General is, no doubt, a very noble figure, but 
 his horse wars with him, and, for the first time, the 
 hero is conquered — quite killed by his cliargcr. 
 
 In all the years that I have been looking at the 
 
 Capitol, I looked without hope, unable to discover 
 a remedy for what seemed to me the chief defect of 
 the building — its lowness — till, one winter day, I 
 saw flames of fii'o issuing from its windows. Now, 
 said I to myself, it wiU rise from its aslics in a new 
 and perfected form ! Now we sliall have a temple 
 worthy the States — the States of which golden-rob- 
 ed California is a member ! No more of this white- 
 washed horror, but pure and ever remaining mar- 
 ble ! <» * * « * 
 
 * * — ' The engine companies repaired to the 
 
 spot with commendable alacrity and zeal, and soon 
 extinguished the conflagration.' 
 
 So the light of my joy went out ; and I can only 
 congratulate our good people, to be born two cen- 
 turies hence, on the magnificent Capitol which they 
 shall see, and I die dreaming of. 
 
 The pjorticos may also be mentioned. These are 
 very imposing, but nevertheless are impositions. 
 They are always full of sunshine, in summer, and 
 of rain and snow in winter. Costly, and useless. 
 Protect us from such protections ! Then the ' grand 
 flight ' of steps leading to them — who that cannot 
 fly but must dislike them, as he toils up, in sultry 
 days, or carefully treads their icy elevation in the 
 cold season, every foot of progress endangering his 
 neck. Our climate requires inner stairways. The 
 interior faults of the Capitol are too numerous for 
 this day's talk. It has a massive, Egyptian base- 
 ment, where a furnace is perpetually glowing, to 
 moderate the dampness, and gas is perpetually burn- 
 ing, to subdue the darkness ; it has long, narrow 
 passages, with ever-blazing gas again; long, narrow, 
 tortuous stairs, to which air never enters, where 
 danger lurks to cast you to the depth, and where, 
 once more, gas does the best it can for suffering hu- 
 manity. 
 
 No such blunders will be found in ihe extension: 
 there, all is airiness, light and roomioess: but the 
 union of the new wiih the old building is like the mar- 
 riage ot Beauty and the Beast. 
 
 The Treasury Department, wliere the chisel and 
 hammer of the workmen are now sounding, is another 
 failure. Its lojig line of close-standing colossal pil- 
 lars, supporting nothing important, darken the win- 
 dows. Every cloudy day gas must be lighted in the 
 upper rooms, directly beneath the ceiling of the colon- 
 nade — or the clerks must take holiday. The Depart- 
 ments near it are only of plain brick, erected before 
 1800, at which time they were considered rather ex- 
 travagant as to cost. They would have been long 
 since replace 1 by stone edifices, but that the Govern- 
 ment enjoys a bonfire, now and then; and these 1800- 
 buildings will make as pretty a one as did iheir late 
 companion, the Treasury. Yet, were.it not for their 
 infiammability, they have an advantage over the oth- 
 ers; because here one may see and breadie. 
 
 While in the neighborhood, we will glance at the 
 President's Mansion. Out of all proportion is the 
 portico, with its entrance for coaches, where foreign 
 and native dignitaries may alight under a roof — excel- 
 lently planned to give them the full benefit of sunshine 
 or storm. Like the Capitol, this building also is long 
 and low, (the standard two-stoiy of Government,) but 
 otherwise is nearly free from defects, except that it is 
 eonstraeted of free-stone. The portico was an after- 
 thought in the time of General .lackson: it wasted 
 much money, and spoiled this front. The south front, 
 looking toward ihe Potomac, remains as the architect 
 designed it, and is the one usually represented by ar- 
 tists. Thus the back view of the President's Mansion 
 iiuite eclipses the other, part of which effect is attrib- 
 utable to the graceful half-circle of the centre, and the 
 rest to the fact of the basement being hero above 
 ground, and so presenting more height. But the 
 dwelling of our Chief Magistrate is becoming crowded 
 among the Departments, four of which are situated in 
 the 'reservation' with it — not a large one, eillier. Ere 
 long, probably, he will be obliged to pass through a 
 liivc of clerks before he can reach his own door. 
 True, this fact has already obtained attention, and, 
 
 more, the notice of Congress, so that a new house ia 
 spoken of, with extensive gardens round; but mean- 
 while the intrusive blocks of stone come nearer and 
 nearer to the door of the 'Great Father,' and we fear 
 lest he should be entombed alive, like Sinbad. 
 
 llaK a mile eastward from this spot, each occupying 
 one of two adjacent squares, stand the General Post 
 Office and Patent Othee. Being so close together, 
 they are like 'two negatives in English,' which 'destroy 
 one another.' Yet these are the handsomest piles ia 
 Washington; and I often think, when looking at 
 them — 
 
 'How happy could I be with either, 
 Were t'other dear charmer away !' 
 
 Surely, when the Government assigns millions of dol- 
 lars to erect these palaces of the Republic, it should 
 not be so scant in the gift of ground. Each edifice of 
 this character is worthy of a park around it, and — 
 
 'Itich in statues, fountains, cypresses.' 
 Now and then, most generous Government, thou giv- 
 est us 'a thing of beauty,' which, doubtless, would 
 prove 'a joy forever,' wouldst thou also give us room 
 enough to see it to advantage. The earth is large, 
 good Government, and much thereof is thine, (while 
 'manifest destiny' says, 'Much more shall be!') there- 
 fore be liberal of gardens, I pray thee! 
 
 Now, what have I said? Nearly my whole 'talk' has 
 been condemnatory. I'm sorry for it — but how to help it, 
 when there is, unfortunately, so much that I must ob- 
 ject to — that every visiter dislikes — and which, in the 
 estimation of foreign travellers, reduces ou r taste, our 
 judgment? I speak thus to express the disapproval 
 of an American — the least among ten thousand, per- 
 haps — but still one of the ten thousand Americans 
 who disapprove — and hoping that the future may find 
 us more careful and more correct. An architectural 
 blunder in a private residence i s enough to ruin the 
 reputation of the designer, and yet in public works 
 blunder after blunder occurs. Shall we pass them 
 over in silence? Shall we walk in perilous and suffo- 
 cating darkness and dampness, and not complain? 
 Having witnessed inconveniences and serious accidents 
 from the causes alluded to, I have been taught — 
 
 'To feel another's woe'— 
 and my own, too — and therefore, however severe it 
 may seem, am not i n the least disposed — 
 'To hide the fault I see.' 
 
 CORRESPONDENCE. 
 
 PiiovinENCE, July 21st, 1858. 
 Editors of the Miscellany : — 
 
 It is with pleasure that I again inform the readers 
 of the Miscellany of the dedication of another Catholic 
 church in this community. The ceremonies were not 
 as imposing as on the former occasion, yet as Catiio- 
 lics the progress of our faith in this country must be 
 interesting to us. 
 
 The church of which we speak is situated in Spragno- 
 ville, Cranston, to the westward of Messrs. Sprague'a 
 Print Works. It stands on an eminence and com- 
 mands a fine view of the surrounding country. It is a 
 wooden building, 60 by 40 feet, and the chancel is 14 
 feet by 17; the height from floor to ceiling, is 20 feet. 
 It will accommodate about 400 persons. The design 
 was drawn by the llev. John Quinn, D. !>., in whose 
 mission the church is. The building was erected by 
 Messrs. W. II. and G. Dyer; the painting and fresco- 
 ing by Mr. B. McManus of this city. 
 
 At quarter to eleven o'clock the ceremony of bless- 
 ing the church was commenced. There were present 
 besides the pastor. Dr. Quinn, and the bishop, the 
 Rev. P. Lamhc, of St. Patrick's; Kev. M. McCallion, 
 of Warren, and Rev, James Gihson of Compton. 
 The two latter gentleman were not in season to take a 
 part in the services. 
 
 After die ceremony of blessing the church was con- 
 cluded. High Mass was commenced, the Kov. P. 
 Lambe, of St. Patrick's, officiating as celebrant. 
 
 At the gospel the bishop of the diocese. Dr. Mc- 
 Earland ascended the altar and addressed the congre- 
 
396 
 
 IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 gatton in an cloiiiiont and forcible manner. He said 
 ho niitjht truly apply to the building the words of 
 Jacob, when he beheld in his vi-ion a ladder that 
 reached from earth to heaven, angels ascending and 
 dcscinding thereon; that it is the house of God — the 
 house of prayer; nay more, it is a hou*e of sacrifice. 
 A temple was this day dedicated (o which the repent- 
 ant sinner could repair for forgiveness and pour forth 
 his prayers to the Throne of Grace. It was a temple 
 in which our children will be insinioted in the saving 
 principles of Catholicity, and not only our children, 
 but also our children's children, and those who will 
 come niter them. It will be a perpetuiil monument to 
 the faith that is in us, and our children's children will 
 point to this temple and say that it was erected by 
 their fathers. 
 
 Some one will ask the necessity of erecting this 
 church when there arc so many Protestant churches 
 aiDund ns. He called the attention of the cont;rega- 
 tion for a few moments to this matter of religion and 
 reviewed the claim of Protestantism to its being the 
 church of Christ. The church of Clirist possesses 
 marks by which it may bo known; it must be one — 
 one in faith, one in worship and one in government. 
 He argued that no one sect of Protestantism possessed 
 any one of these marks, but on the contrary, are split 
 np into divisions and subdivisions, professing doctrines 
 which their fathers repudiated, and repudiating doc- 
 trines which wcro held by their fathers as just and 
 right. 
 
 On the other hand he showed clearly that the Cath- 
 olic church possessed these marks. The Catholic 
 church is one in fiiith throughout the world. In every 
 country, 'from the rising of the sun to the going down 
 of the same,' her members profess the same doctrines, 
 receive the same sacramtnts, and the same sacrifice is 
 olTcrcd upon her altars. The Catholic church is as 
 old as the days of Christ; the apof ties were her firSt 
 bishops, and the seventy-two disciples were her first 
 priests, a fact which even her enemies are forced to ac- 
 knowledge. Wesleyaiiism, Luthcranism, Calvinism 
 and Pusevism were established by the men whose 
 names they bear, as were also other sects, and as 
 neither of these men were Christ, the churches which 
 they established cannot be the church of Christ. 
 
 Owing 10 the inclemency of the weather, the attend- 
 ance at the church was not so large as was expected. 
 
 i'RANK. 
 
 Jrom the Dublin Celtic Union. 
 ANNIE O'BRIEN. 
 
 ClUl'TER I. 
 
 'Come in the evening or come in the morning, 
 Come when yov'rc looked for, or come without warning, 
 KiNKM' end welcome you'll find here before you. 
 And the oficner you come here, the more I'll adore you.' 
 
 Davis. 
 
 Every one has a favorite walk. Mine is near the 
 ruins of an old church, by the side of a bright little 
 river. It is in the greenest of valleys, which elopes 
 down from the beautifullest blue mountain in all the 
 world. On Sunday last, while leaning on the brok- 
 en ' battlements' of the one-arched bridge, I was 
 roused from my cogitations by the usual salutation, 
 ' A fine day, sir,' uttered in a cheerj-, manly voice. 
 The speaker was a young peasant of my acquaint- 
 ance. He held a span new ' hurly" under his arm, 
 and with a bit of broken glass, was scraping away 
 some roughness from the handle. I saw that he 
 was in a hurry, and' merely asked where was the 
 hurling ? 
 
 'The Ballingary hoys, that challenged to meet 
 twenty-one of us, at Mohubber,' was the reply.— 
 'They're to be on the sod at 4 o'clock — what time 
 o' day might it be now, I wonder ":' 
 
 ' Within a quarter of four." 
 
 ' Begor it'll be tight on me to be there agin the 
 match is med— good evening, sir ;' he jerked the 
 piece of glass into the rivet;, and rolling up the skirt 
 of his coat into something approaching the shape of 
 
 a lady's ' bustle," dashed up the road towards ' the 
 flags' (a quarry so called) at a tremendous pace. — 
 AVhen he reached the rising ground he shaded his 
 eyes from the sun with his hat, and looked in the 
 direction of the place of rcndevous. I saw that he 
 was in time, for leai)ing over the wall, he whirled 
 the hurly round his head, and having executed a 
 couple of imaginary ' sky pucks' lie bounded over 
 the next fence and out of sight. 
 
 Trifling as this incident was, it touched some hid- 
 den spring of memory — and the past came rushing 
 upon me with painful distinctness. I remembered 
 how on a day just like this I accompanied my old 
 friend Frank MuUally over to the widow O'Brien's 
 comfortable thatched farm-house at ' the grove.' — 
 Mrs. O'liricn was after returning from mass — the 
 car stuffed with oaten straw, and covered with a 
 blue woollen quilt, was at the door. The good wo- 
 man was in the act of changing her black silk apron 
 for one ot a coarser material, preparatory to some 
 culinary operation, having reference to a shoulder 
 of mutton, which the 'servant girl' -was unrolling 
 from a snow-white cloth. The widow's only daugh- 
 ter, Annie, with her gloves and bonnet still on, was 
 mounted on a chair in the yard, trying to reach to 
 a great double wallflower which had taken a fancy 
 to blush, not 'unseen,' (and such a pair of eyes now- 
 flashed upon it) over the bam door. I take a long 
 walk into the country every Sunday, but a more 
 lovely girl than Annie O'Brien I shouldn't meet in 
 a month of Sundays. On seeing us she leaped from 
 the perch lightly as a bird, and blushingly bade us 
 welcome. While arranging her nosegay in a vase 
 on the window-sill, I thought I saw her give a 
 'longing, lingering look' at the blood-red wallflow- 
 er over the barn door. Impelled by a spirit of gal- 
 lantry, which has ever been my bane (my wig and 
 blue spectacles, notwithstanding) I got upon the 
 chair and with the help of my umbrella succeeded 
 in grabbing a handful of the flowers. But instead 
 of getting down in the ordinary way, I jumped back- 
 wards, not observing that an unruly bull calf had 
 nose at the moment under my coat-tails. The eon- 
 .sequence was, I alighted upon the animal's back, 
 he plunging forward with a very respectable attempt 
 at a bellow, carried me round and round the dung- 
 hill At the first start my blue specks dropped 
 down below my nose — then ' away went hat and 
 wig.' I felt conscious of cutting a rather ridiculous 
 figure, so that it was greatly to my relief the horrid 
 brute gave me a ' hois,' and deposited me safely in 
 a big trough. I soon recovered my equanamity, 
 and joined my friends in laughing at the misadven- 
 ture. But I remember being haunted, for several 
 weeks after, with very troublesome dreams, in which 
 Europa, John Gilpin, and your humble servant ap- 
 peared ' rolled into one' in a very extraordinary 
 fashion. 
 
 Half a glance told me that Frank and Annie were 
 lovers: Mrs. O'Brien, too, appeared to have mis- 
 givings on the point. The consequence of which 
 was that her behavior towards Frank was somewhat 
 variable — from the boiling point of cordiality down 
 to zero — and up again, 
 
 ' Ah then, Frank,' said Mrs. O'Brien, ' where wor 
 you this seven years r The not a sight o' you I 
 seen since the fair of Callan. Why wouldn't you 
 walk over an evenin,' and take a cup o' tay w ith us, 
 and tell us all the news r' Here a glance inter- 
 changed between Fiank and Annie brought Mrs. 
 O'Brien down to a very freezing mood — ' But,' she 
 added, ' it isn't gallavantin' about the country a 
 young man ought to be and time.- so busy — People 
 must be industher in this world, Mr. MuUally.' — 
 'That's true, ma'am,' was Frank's reply in a rather 
 melancholy tone ; while Annie's musical laugh 
 would peal out uncontrolled at these examples of 
 the antithetical on the part of her mother. 
 
 Between the shanahus of the portly widow, and 
 Annie's eloquent eyes, more than an hour flew by 
 
 very agreeably. Wc might have prolonged our story 
 till 'all hours.' but a rakish specimen of a slimar- 
 daghboy, with a formidable 'cro-moogo,' which he 
 ' streelcd' behind him in a rather ungainly fashion ; 
 after a series of unheeded becks and grimaces, at 
 length put his head into the window, and in a sort 
 of reproachful pig's whisper, said to Frank, ' They 
 arc waitin' for you. AVe rose to accompany our 
 friend of the ero-niooge — Larry Comerford — to ' the 
 meadows.' (For the benefit of the uninitiated, I beg 
 to remark that a ' ero-mooge' is a natural hurl-bat 
 in contradistinction to the artificially formed 'hurly* 
 the ! wattle' differs from both in having, at the end, 
 instead of a bend like the hurly and cro-moogc, a 
 nob about the size, and something of the shape of 
 a sheep's head. 
 
 ' Don't forget to call in on your way back, in the 
 evening,' said Annie. ' You know, Frank, however 
 busy the times may be, people can't be expected to 
 work much on Sunday evening,' and she glanccdat 
 her mother, who hurried to ' hush a chicken off the 
 half door as if its remaining there for another mo- 
 ment, would have caused the house to tumble down 
 at least. 
 
 On reaching ' the meadows' a scene presented it- 
 self, which for life and picturesqucncss, I have never 
 seen excelled. 
 
 CIIAPTEll II. 
 
 'And feats of strcngtli, and sleights of art went round.' 
 Ciotdsmith. 
 
 The picked men of the parishes were to hurl that 
 day. Groups of young girls wandered through the 
 fields, orrr.ved from place to place, their glossy hair 
 streaming behind them, and shining in the warm 
 sunrays. Others sat upon the green bank of the 
 river, sometimes stealing a glance at the reflection 
 of their own bright faces in the pellucid water ; and 
 hastily suppressing the revolutionary tendencies of 
 a rebellious tress, or tying a neck-ribbon into the 
 killingest bowknot imaginable, when ' somebody" 
 was seen approaching ; the said somebody exclaim- 
 ing as if he was .startled out of his seven senses by 
 the unexpectedness of the meeting, ' AVisher is that 
 yourself, Nelly,' just as if the ' schamer' hadn't re- 
 cognised Nelly's wavy form and lilac gown all the 
 way from the ' big tree' beyond ! But by far the 
 ■Teatest part -were linked, hand in hand, in lines and 
 circles reminding one of wreaths of flowers ; these 
 were engaged at various games, the mysteries of 
 which I am not sufKciently conversant with to di- 
 late upon them. 
 
 A crowd was collected in one ' place to witness a 
 trial of prowness betweeh two of the greatest stone 
 throwers in the country. With chest and throat 
 exposed, and arms bare to the shoulders, these men 
 were models of herculean strength and symmetry. 
 There was a grace too in the manner in which they 
 planted the left foot at the stand, and swung the 
 heavy stone round their heads, slowly wheeling 
 round till the back was turned towards the point to 
 which the stone was to be cast — then back to the 
 original position, while the body was bent back- 
 wards, the right arm extended in the same direction 
 'tiU the hand nearly touched the ground— the body 
 was bent backwards, the right arm extended in the 
 same direction till the hand nearly touched the 
 ground— the body was then thrown forward, every 
 mnsclc from the foot to the tips of the fingers 
 strained — and the huge stone was hurled with a 
 force that reminded one of the battering macliines 
 of tmcieut watfarc. 
 
 A shout proclaimed that Daniel Doheny (the he- 
 ro of the neighborhood) had put the stone up to 
 best mark. His oppcnent girded himself f r anoth- 
 er throw, but he was met with good humored 
 shouts of 'the one mark, the one mark,' meaning 
 that he should allow it to be a drawn battle. Not 
 appearing satisfied with this, after a good deal of 
 
 J 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 397 
 
 jostling and confusion, and cries of ' fair play, boys,' 
 it was agreed that his wish for ' another throw ' 
 should be eomplicd with. But now it was found 
 that the stone was missing. Some one dreading 
 the defeat of his favorite, had stolen it away and 
 dropped it into a pool of water at a little distance. 
 At this Daniel Doheny's opponent shook his head 
 with the air of an injured man, and untying the ' tur- 
 key red ' handkerchief from round his waist and 
 wiping his face with it, he gave vent to his feelings 
 in a soliloquy — uttered in a voice of the intensest 
 melancholy, to the following eifect : — 
 
 ' Heavens be with sweet Fethard ! — where no 
 man would be dceaved !' 
 
 And Drmiel Doheny's opponent heaved a heart- 
 rending sigh, and looked the very picture of resign- 
 ed martyrdom. 
 
 ' Begor, I had nothing to do with it,' said Daniel 
 Dohcny. 
 
 ' Don't tell me that at all, Daniel,' said his oppon- 
 ent, 'I'd be long sorry to suspect you for a piece of 
 maneness of that sort.' 
 
 ' Sure I know myself I'm not a match for you at 
 a heavy wheelin'-stone, whatever I might with the 
 pushin'-stone,' said Daniel Doheny. 
 
 This mollified his opponent consVlerably, and I 
 left them talking in quite a fraternal mood , while 
 a ' gorsoon ' was running up for a 281b. sledge to the 
 forge. 
 
 I now joined a gathering which was collected to 
 see a ' running-leap ' over the river. A slight mus- 
 cular, though somewhat 'nobbish' young fellow, 
 was in the act of handing his gold watch and chain 
 to a by-stander. He then took off his coat and vest, 
 and substituting an elastic belt round a rather lady- 
 like waist, for his braces, motioned with his hand 
 to clear the way. Taking thirty yards or so of a 
 run (with a sort of springy slowness at first, but 
 getting more rapid as he neared the leap) he sprang 
 from the ground, and actually sailing through the 
 air, alighted with the agility of a wild cat, on the 
 opposite bank. 
 
 ' Tare-an-agers !' exclaimed a six-foot-and-a-half 
 collier, ' but that was a bully leap ! — who is he ?' 
 
 ' ^Vho is he,' replied a stout little man about six- 
 ty, with drab eassimer shorts and blue angola stock- 
 ings, which set off a remarkably well shaped leg to 
 advantage. 'He's the best piece of flesh that ever 
 was reared in this parish. Be horns ! I'd go to 
 Kilkenny to see him play one game o' ball — and 
 tisn't to Kilkenny — but to the streets o' Dublin.' 
 And the stout little man spoke in a very oracular 
 tone. 
 
 ' Wish-a now ?' said the six-foot-and-a-half col- 
 lier. 
 
 ' I never seen so purty a left hand,' added the lit- 
 tle man in drab shorts and blueVingola stockings — 
 while his chubby face shone, andVsparkled with af- 
 fectionate admiration, as his eye rested on the young 
 man who had leaped the river ; and who was now 
 surrounded with as great a crowd of admirers as a 
 favorite race-horse after winning the first heat. 
 
 ' I'll tell you what I seen him do ; I happened to 
 be at the fair of Carrick, last Lady-day. IIow- 
 some-ever.' 
 
 Here I hurried off to witness the great event of 
 the day, leaving the delighted little man in drab 
 shorts to spin his yam — which he continued to do, 
 holding the long collier by the lowest button of the 
 waistcoat, and standing on his ' tippy-toes,' and 
 looking up as if it was to a man with his head out at 
 a sky-light he was talking. 
 
 The match was made and all the preliminaries ar- 
 ranged. No one could help remarking that the Bal- 
 lingary men had the advantage in height and strength; 
 every one of them measuring at least si.\-feet-two in 
 his vamps. While on the other hand the Jlullina- 
 hone boys, though of smaller stature, were so well 
 knit and swift of foot, and had so much never-say- 
 die pluck in them, that they were hardly even known 
 
 to come off second best. They were sure at the very 
 worst to have goal for goal in spite of the almost su- 
 perhuman efforts of their gigantic neighbors. 
 
 Frank MuUally with the leader of the other side 
 advanced into the middle of the field. Frank tossed 
 up the ball perpendicularly between thera ; their 
 hurlies crashed together as they struck at it — and 
 then came ' the tug of war.' Every eye flashed with 
 eager excitement, while 'more power, Ned' 'good 
 again, Tom ' — ' stick for id, Barney,' and similar 
 phrases of encouragement, might be heard from time 
 to time, from the panting competitors. 
 
 ' Our side takes the first goal — how-some-ever,' 
 exclaimed our oracular friend. 
 
 ' How do you make that out ?' said the six-foot- 
 and-a-half collier. 
 
 ' Because the ball is between Frank and Fitzger- 
 ald now, and one open puck will send it to the goal 
 — he has no chance with Frank when it comes to a 
 race.' 
 
 Frank strained every nerve. His adversary was 
 more strongly built, but not so swift a runner. So 
 instead of continuing tha race he seized Frank round 
 the body. They dropped their hurlies and grappled 
 with one another. In a moment there was a crowd 
 around them ; some calling out to ' put 'em asun- 
 der,' while others were for making a ring.' 
 
 ' Two hands under Fi'garald,' shouted Larry Com- 
 erford in an excited tone, while he cast a ' who 
 dare ' look around. 
 
 'Fi'garald' let go his grip, and 'took a fair 
 hoult.' 
 
 Considerable excitement began to be evinced now. 
 Some of the hurlers left their posts, and elbowed 
 their way fiercely through the wood. Sticks swayed 
 over the heads of the closely edged mass, and those 
 on the outstde, who could not see what was going 
 on, pushed against one another, exchanging looks 
 of defiance — as mutual suspicion of foul play cross- 
 ed their minds. The whole affair assumed the look 
 of an incipient faction fight. 
 
 ' Devil a fear of a fight where Frank Mullally is, 
 any way,' said an old man with long grey hair — 'I 
 see him throttle his own cousin at the fair uv Kil- 
 nacken for shoutin' caravat. If they want fightin', 
 as Frank says, 'tisn't with one another they ought 
 to fight. Doin' the work uv the inemy,' exclaimed 
 the old fellow with emphasis, as he struck his stick 
 against the ground and looked around him with the 
 air of an orator. 
 
 His prediction proved correct, for at this moment 
 the ' ring ' broke open, and the two young men, 
 both very red and almost breathless, hurried to re- 
 sume their plaies at the game — which during this 
 time was kept up by almost a score of the players 
 who were so well matched, that neither side could 
 get the goal. As Frank stooped for his hurly he 
 put his hand to his mouth and found he bled slightly 
 — his adversary looked anxiously at him, and as if 
 impelled by a single impulse, the two young men 
 rushed to meet one another. Their right hands were 
 extended and locked for a moment in a friendly 
 grasp, that showed there was no ill will between 
 them, and while the crowd cheered, till the hill of 
 Ballingary gave back the echo, they bounded after 
 the ball which at that moment flew past them. 
 
 CHAPTER III, 
 
 'Ah! but our hopes were splendid, 
 Annie, dear, 
 
 How sadly they have ended 
 
 Aniiio, dear; 
 
 The ring betwixt us broken, 
 
 When our vows of love were spoken. 
 
 Of your poor heart was a token, 
 
 Annie, dear. 
 
 The widow O'Brien's only son, a young man of 
 much promise, had died a few years before ; it was 
 supposed in consequence of over exertion at some 
 
 athletic exercise. The country people would to 
 you that he ' threw up his heart's blood.' A meet- 
 ing of the young folks for any purpose of amuse- 
 ment reminded Mrs. O'Brien of her loss; and the 
 wound in the mother's heart would open and bleed 
 afresh. Her daughter never left her side on these 
 occasions ; it required all her gentle tact to divert 
 her mother's thoughts from her bereavement. This 
 was the reason why Annie did not accompany us to 
 the hurling. 
 
 We met them on our way back. Mrs. O'Brien 
 entertained us with a dissertation upon the superi- 
 ority of the old ' red apple ' potatoe — the extinction 
 of which esculent she regretted very much. Frank 
 and Annie loitered behind. What the subject mat- 
 ter of their conversation was, I leave to the imagina- 
 tion of my fair readers. 
 
 A half suppressed groan made us turn quickly 
 round — it was from Frank. Annie gazed at him 
 with a look so sad, so sorrowful, so despairing, that 
 though I scarcely knew why, my heart swelled in 
 sympathy for her. He pushed back the rich dark 
 hair from his snowy forehead — then clasping her 
 convulsively in his arms, he pressed his lips to her 
 pale cheek, and was gone. 
 
 Annie stood like one turned to stone. Her mother 
 hurried towards her and inquired anxiously what 
 was the matter. She pressed her hand over her eyes 
 as if trying to recollect — then, while her lips parted 
 and her eyes — her magnificent eyes — opened, as if 
 in wonder at something she could scarcely compre- 
 hend, she said — 
 
 ' Frank Mullally is going to America !' 
 
 ' Poor things,' said Mrs. O'Brien after a long 
 pause, ' 'tis no wonder for 'em to be heart-broke at 
 parting one another ! And if I could help it,' ad- 
 ded the good woman, while she wiped away the fast 
 falling tears with her apron — ' if I could help it, the 
 say would never roll between 'em — but Frank him- 
 self knows the reason.' 
 
 Annie had moved into the house as if she were 
 walking in her sleep. I caught another glimpse of 
 her as she drew the curtain and let down the win- 
 dow of her own little room. Her face was still dead- 
 ly pale, and her hand trembled so much, that she 
 threw down the vase from the window sill. The vase 
 was broken, and the flowers were scattered. 
 
 Poor Annie ! — it was an emblem of your owa 
 young heart. 
 
 rConcIusion next week.] 
 
 Correct Speaking.— We advise all young peo- 
 ple to acquire in early life the habit of using good 
 language, both in speaking and writing, and to 
 abandon as early as possible any use of slan"- words 
 and phrases. The longer they live the more diffi- 
 cult the acquisition of correct language will be ; and 
 if the golden age of youth, the proper season for the 
 acquisition of language, be passed in its abuse, the 
 unfortunate victim of neglected education is very 
 properly doomed to talk slang for life. Money is 
 not necsssary to procure this education. Every 
 man has it in his power. He has merely to use the 
 language which he reads instead of the slan" which 
 he hears ; to form his taste from the best speakers 
 and poets of the country, to treasure up choice 
 phrases in his memory, and habituate himself to 
 their use— avoiding at the same time that pedantic 
 precision and bombast which show rather the weak- 
 ness of a vain ambition than the polish of an edu- 
 cated mind. 
 
 Obscurity.- You cannot but observe how thou- 
 sands are doomed to a plodding obscurity; how 
 tliousands pass from birth to death with no one ac- 
 tion of their lives to signalize themselves among 
 their fellows: how, like com, they grow, ripen, and 
 arc cut down, leaving behind them no mark of 
 their past existence. 
 
398 
 
 IRISH MISCKLLANY. 
 
 Haiiits or Anciknt and MonEnx AvTiions. — 
 Goethe, with all his love of nrt and passion for 
 bottuty, wrote in an iindecorntccl room, on n plain 
 table, with few books, and no pictuns or scenery in 
 view. Laraartine, in the days of his prospcrty, 
 composed in a studio, with tropical plants, birds, 
 and everj- luxury to cheer the senses, uround liini. 
 Kiehard Savage noted down a whole tragedy on 
 scraps ijf paper at the counters of shops, into which 
 he intcred .md asked for pen and ink, as if to make 
 a inemorandum. Bcrkcly composed his 'Minute 
 Philosophy' under the shade of a rock on Xcwport 
 beach. Jonathan Edwards meditated his profound 
 work on 'The Will,' as he walked in the shade of 
 an elm, still standing at Northampton. Hums 
 ■wrote a stanza as he ploughed in the fields. Schil- 
 ler evolved his finest play in a summer-house. Dr. 
 Johnson delved at his dictionary in a poor lodging 
 in London, with a cat purring near, and orange- 
 peel and tea at hand. Moliere tested the comic pow- 
 er of his plays by reading them to an old servant. 
 Poe's hand-writing was beautifully correct, yet his 
 habits and genius were erratic, perverse and way- 
 ward. Dr. AVilliam E. Channing used to perambu- 
 late the room while composing. 151oomficld, the 
 poet, relates of himself that nearly one lialf of his 
 poem, , The Farmer's Boy," was composed without 
 writing a word of it, while at work with other shoe- 
 makers in a garret. Sharon Turner, author of the 
 valuable history of the 'Anglo Saxon,' and who re- 
 ceived a pension of SI 500 a year from the British 
 Ciovcmnient for his services to lituaturc, wrote his 
 third volume of the ' Sacred History of the AVorld' 
 upon papei: that did not cost him a farthing. The 
 ' copy' consisted of torn and angular fragments of 
 letters and notes, of covers of periodicals, and shreds 
 of curling paper unctuous with pomatum and bear's 
 grease. Daniel Webster's famous supposed speech 
 of John Adams, beginning with the words ' Sink, or 
 swim, survive or perish,' was composed while the 
 great orator was riding in a chaise. His eloquent 
 oration on Bunker Hill was, in great part, composed 
 in a boat in Marshpce Brook ! 
 
 ever}' TCliide, and waits till it hius passed a square, for 
 fei^r of being splashed; and even in dry weather she 
 crosses on tliejoinls of her toes, and holds her dress 
 above her ankles. Her constant fulg.t wears the flesh 
 from her bones and color (rom hor cheeks. She never 
 can get a servant to stay long with her. We never 
 heard of but one particular lady who retained a do- 
 mestic longer than a year, but then she was us partic- 
 ular as her mistress. 
 
 The Particular Ladt — There is a coldness and 
 precision about this person's dwelling that makes your 
 heart shrink back, that is, if you have the least atom 
 of sociability in your nature, with a lonely feeling, the 
 same which you wdl experience when you go by your- 
 self, and for the first time among decided strangers 
 
 Everything is in painful order. The damask table- 
 cover has been in just the same folds ever since it 
 came from the vender's shop, eight years ago; and 
 the legs of the chair have been on the exact diamonds 
 in the drugget they were first placed on; by the bye, 
 do you ever remrmhcr of seeing that same drugget off 
 tbe carpet underneath? No, for she never has compa- 
 ny; the routing, the untidiness they would occasion, 
 would cause the poor soul to be subject to fits for the 
 rest of her natiKal, or rather unnatural, life. Though 
 untidiness is a fault all people should avoid, especially 
 the young, yet, for mercy's sake, urge them not to be 
 particular. She will become as hateful in the sight of 
 her friends as a sloven. 
 
 The parlii ular lady generally lives in the kitchen — 
 and an excruciatingly tidy one it is. The great par- 
 lors, with their crimson curtains, Turkish carpets, 
 mammoth mirrors, beautiful mantles, and elegant 
 paintings are always closed. Noliody visits them; no- 
 body enjoys them; the children tread on tiptoe to steal 
 a glance into ihcm, their eyes expressive of wonder- 
 ment and a cautions air of dread. 
 
 She is all the time dusting and washing and scrub- 
 bing, and scrubbing and washing and dusting. The 
 doo'r steps, the window sills and sashes, the wash- 
 boards must be daily scrubbed, diongh immaculately 
 white they already be. The very knives, forks and 
 spoons are rubbed thin and genteel by constant clean- 
 ing. 
 
 You can tell her crossing the street— she watches for 
 
 Small Footed Ladies:— We extract the following 
 from the letter of the London Times correspondent at 
 Shanghai : — 
 
 A fisherman and his wife push their way by. The 
 lady, who is not in her premiere jeunesse, has large 
 natural feet, and having tucked up her trousers, dis- 
 plays a pair of calves which an Irish porter might en- 
 vy. Taking advantage of their wake, stitlly totters 
 upon her small deer's feet an extraordinary China- 
 woman of the urban population. She has no calves 
 whatever. The muscles of her leg were destroyed by 
 the operation that produced that beautiful foot, and 
 from the knee downwards her leg is hut skin and bone. 
 Do you ask how this strange deformity is produced ^ 
 Stand back of the crowd, inside the entrance to Mr. 
 Heard's compound, and I will tell you. There are 
 small footed ladies at Hong Kong, who gain a very 
 fair livelihood by exhibiting their pedal extremities to 
 sea captains and other curious Europeans, at a dollar 
 a head ; but, as so superficial an examination of this 
 natural peculiarity did not satisfy me, I had a re- 
 course to some of my good friends among the mission- 
 ary. By their aid I obtained that some poor China 
 women should bring me a complete gamut of little 
 girls from the missionary schools. Many of these 
 female children probably owed their lives to the per- 
 suasion (aided by opportune donations of rice) of my 
 missionary friend and his lady, but their influence had 
 been powerless to prevent the torture of their feet. 
 On the appointed day they were all seated in a row in 
 my friend's library, and their feet, which I suspect, 
 had undergone a preparatory washing, were unbound 
 by their mammas. The first was a child of two years 
 old. Her penance had just commenced. When the 
 bandage of blue cotton was taken off, I found that the 
 great toe had been left untouched, but the other four 
 had been forced down under the ball of the foot, and 
 closely bound in that position. Therf'hild, therefore, 
 walked upon the knuckle joints of the four toes. The 
 toes were red and inflamed, and the ligature caused 
 much pair;. In the next three children (all of 
 ages advancing at small intervals) the preparation 
 was only to the same extent ; it was confined to the 
 four toes; gradually, however, these four toes, ceding 
 to the continual pressure, lost their articulation and 
 identity as limbs, and became amalgamated with the 
 sole of the foot. In the eldest of the four the red- 
 ness and the inflamation had entirely disappeared, 
 the foot was cool and painless, and appeared as 
 though the four toes had been cut off with a knife. 
 The foot was now .somewhat the shape of the trowel. 
 
 In the fifth girl I saw the commencement of the 
 second operation — a torture under which sickly chil- 
 dren frequently die. The sole of the foot was noiv 
 curved into the shape of a bow ; the great toe and 
 the heel being brought together as near as possible. 
 Take a jujube and double it till two points of the 
 lozenge nearly meet, and you will see what I mean. 
 This is done very gradually. The bandage is never 
 slackened — month by month it is drawn tighter — 
 the foot inflames and swells, but the tender mamma 
 perseveres — as the bone and tendon accommodate 
 themselves to the position constrained by the ban- 
 dage, so it is drawn tighter. At last the ball of the 
 natural foot tits into {he hollow of the 'sole, the root 
 of the great toe is brought into contact with the 
 heel. The foot is a shapeless liunp. The instep is 
 where the ankle was, and all that is left to go into 
 the slipper and to tread the gro und is the ball of the 
 great toe and the heel. This is the small foot of the 
 Chinese woman — a bit of toe and a bit of heel, with 
 
 a mark, like a cicatrice left after a huge cut, running 
 up between them. Two of the girls were yet suffer- 
 ing great pain, and their feet were hot and inflamed, 
 but in the eldest the oi>erntion was complete. She 
 hadattaincd tothe position of a small-footed woman, 
 and her feet were quite cool, had no corns, and were 
 not tender to the touch. One of the mammas, in- 
 fluenced, perhaps, by a little liberality in the article 
 of rice money, intrusted me with a Chinese mistere 
 de toilette. Somctijnes, it seeni.s, when a woman is 
 expected to have to do hard work, her toe and heel 
 are not .drawn so tightly together as to produce the 
 true ' small foot.' To disguise this imperfection 
 upon her marriage day, she has recourse to art. A 
 piece of cork, shaped like an inverted sugar-loaf, is 
 strapped on to her foot, and the small part goes into 
 her slipper and passes for her foot. Thus are we 
 poor men deceived ! 
 
 MISCELLANEA. 
 
 Old Maid — ' A\Tiat ! nine months oldand not walk 
 yet ! Why, when I was a baby I went alone at six 
 months.' 
 
 Young indignant mother (aside) — ' And she's been 
 alone ever since.' 
 
 ' Who was the first man recorded in history who 
 didn't pay,' said the elder Mathews, as he was hand- 
 ing a theatrical order to a friend. 
 
 ' Whj', really, I never gave it a thought," replied 
 the friend. 
 
 ' Why, Joseph, of course,' said Mathews, ' did 
 not his brothers put him in the pit for nothing ?' 
 
 Some time since a letter was received in New Or- 
 leans directed ' To the Biggest Fool in New Or- 
 leans.' The postmaster was absent, and on his re- 
 turn one of the youngest clerks in the office inform- 
 ed him of the letter. 
 
 ' And what became of it ?' inquired the postmas- 
 ter. 
 
 ' ^^^ly,' replied the clerk, ' I did not know who 
 the biggest fool in New Orleans was, and so I open- 
 ed the letter myself.' j< 
 
 ' And what did you find in it ?' inquired the post- 
 master. 
 
 'Why,' responded the clerk, 'nothing but the 
 words — ' Thou art the man !' ' 
 
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IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
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 THE IRISH MISCELLANY 
 
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 »ct. we shall present to 
 1 Miscellany, a tplendid 
 ing the glorious tcene, 
 niplun- ni JJin'M-ick, 
 
 having luiiiiiedtliiii ,. . 
 
 on the way to the r : ; i i . ■ , ■ <■ . .t 
 
 to capture them. ( m' , n.- ^ » » i n.. ■. i.in.i, i. , ,, i..;, i ,iit 
 and circuitous roul, ^.u u- tu uiKn:i:i,i iliu i.ui,^ .., , lit i:unie 
 up in front of it at Killenunionu. atlucKed' Wiliiam'u 
 troops, deieated them and compelled them to retreat bclore 
 the Irish horse, leaving their artillery in the hands of Saru- 
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 Having to rejoin the garrison at Limerick, Sarsficld knew 
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 A train Ijeing laid, the spark was applied and in a few sec- 
 onds the seige artillery of William w»s slmtfcrcii into innu- 
 mei'able fragments 'i'his gallant lent :I^l^llli^In■^l the Eng- 
 lish troops, gave new courage to tlir Iii^li. ;iim1 added to 
 the great popularity of the gallant ^;ii>iii.ld. 11 ii; explo- 
 sion shook the earth for miles around, iiud ^vuti heard at an 
 immense distance. 
 
 It is at the moment of the explosion of the English ar- 
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 This memorable event will be faithfully and accurately- 
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 ch27 
 
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 PASSEXrn-R CERTIFICATES. 
 ^0 OLl> (ul NI'KY.Mi:\. OwKN Mc Namara has 
 
 I'Hs.^^ugi' ( < rlUk-iil..- ;'nd I>rarts alwavt* on hand and 
 rsalr. A- he d.u-^ Imlhics^ for that mo«-t ret^pcctable 
 houM.. (Williadi' v't i.uu>u) inXewYnrk. Old Countrvmea 
 desiring to .<fnd for their IVieuds, or remit money, would 
 do well to give him a call atNo. 4 GoitHAM St.. opposite 
 Summer St., Lowell, Mass ap2;i 
 
11 f J.SI^¥ B©¥ 
 
 o^ 
 
 circtrt crprcssli) for % |ns^ HJisccllang. 
 
 "vu^ i^ I T T E nsr .^.isriD ooivCfoseid b^^ s. hlo'vei^, esgj, 
 
 A Tempo. 
 
 mim^m 
 
 1. A jMoth-er ciime 
 
 when 
 
 'mm 
 
 
 ,, i^^ ^^ I I A Toropor" ' 
 
 ;;=E^E== 
 
 E: 
 
 
 stai-s were ]);il - ing, Wail - ing round a lone - ly spring, Thus she cried while tears were fall - ing 
 
 », Thus she cried while tears were fall - inj;, Call - - iiii' on the 
 
 i> >_^r_t -(S— ^ z:=z; 
 
 
 :S3gl 
 
 '^^tiT-===^==P=i=t— ^ p=i— =1^— ^:r:jvz=:rpz=-z i»zz= 
 
 Fai - ry king. 
 
 s ^ — :i— 
 
 Why with spells 
 
 my child ca - ress - ing, 
 
 Courting him 
 
 :^=I:A:?^z:^z::^==:lzz^ 
 _«»,; — 1 
 
 with 
 
 -J. 
 
 =•1 ^ zfi ^ ^ '^ i*r ^ i^r 
 
 .--M-J* 1 0,-- .0 . ^ — —j-m 
 
 -^^-^—1 
 
 I— = llN 
 
 ±±z 
 
 l^-"^=^T 
 
 Why destroy a inoth-er's bless - ing ? Wherefore steal my ba - by boy ? 
 
 i^^ 
 
 1 
 
 -J^ S: =^ 
 
 
 
 l:p=: 
 
 r-" 
 
 O'er the mountain, through the wild wood, 
 
 Where his f;hililiio<xl lov'd to play. 
 Where the flow'rs are freshly springing, 
 
 There I wander, day by day; 
 There I wander growing fonder 
 
 Of the child that made my joy ; 
 On the echoes wildly calling. 
 
 To restore my Fairy boy. 
 
 But in vain my plaintive calling ! 
 
 Tears are falling, all in vain ; 
 He now sports with fair}' pleasure. 
 
 He's the treasure of their train ! 
 Fare thee well ! my child for ever. 
 
 In this world I've lost my joy. 
 But in the next we ne'er shall sever. 
 
 There I'll find my Angel boy. 
 
 When a bcautifal Child pines and dies, the Irish Peasant believes the healthy Infant has been stolen by the Fairies, and a sickly Elf left in its place. 
 
VOLUME I— NUMBER 26. ] 
 
 BOSTON, SATURDAY, AUGUST 7, 1858. 
 
 [ PRICE FOUR CENTS. 
 
 It will be remembered by our readers that in our is- 
 6ae of May 22d, we gave a copious sketch of the an- 
 cient city of Galway and its interesting annals. The 
 noble enterprise of Mr. Orrell Lever, has given addi- 
 tional interest to ths 'city ot the Tribes,' and at this 
 moment the eyes of the commercial world are fixed 
 upon her magnificent hay, and the extraordinary' facil- 
 ities which its geographical position offers to the com- 
 merce of Europe. 
 
 The bay of Galway from which our sketch is taken, 
 is 18 miles broad at its seaward extremity, diminish- 
 ing to about 8 miles inland, and is about 20 miles 
 long East to West. It is protected from the swell of 
 the Atlantic by the three Isles of Arran, which rise 
 five hundred feet above the level of the sea. 
 
 The waters of ..miii s Corrib, Mask and Carra, are 
 here emptied into the sea, and afford an immense water 
 power which must soon be converted to manufactur- 
 ing purposes. This extraordinary power which is 
 
 elsewhere made available to the production of wealth 
 and the promotion of industry, now runs idly along, 
 with the exception of turning a few mills which grind 
 Indian corn and wheat for home consumption 
 
 In the mountains of Gahvay lie mines of wealth 
 which the new enterprise must speedily develop. Her 
 marbles are among the finest in the world and the 
 proximity of the Bay to the North of Ireland will 
 make that port the great outlet for the manufactured 
 yarns and linens of that pan of Ireland. The impetus 
 thus given to Galway will re-act upon the surrounding 
 eouutry, and thus add to the material prosperity of the 
 rest of Ireland. 
 
 Tourists from this country will visit the romantic 
 scenery surrounding Galway, and stroll into other 
 parts of Ireland. They will be received with an Irish 
 welcome, from a people devotedly attached to this 
 country and its institutions, and thus become familiar 
 with Ireland and its people, and learn to appreciate a 
 
 nation which requires only the genius of free institu- 
 tions, to make it the finest nation in Europe. 
 
 Galway was well known to the ancients and held 
 constant intercourse with the great nations of antiquity. 
 Mr. Lever will, we trust, by his enterprise, restore her 
 to her former eminence as a great commercial city, 
 and though her commerce with the great Roman Em- 
 pire is numbered with the past, her commercial inter- 
 course with the Republic of America will yet excel in 
 material prosperity that which this ancient city enjoy- 
 ed in the days of Tacitus. The sailing of the Indian 
 Empire from Galway, is the opening of a new era for 
 Ireland, from which her future history will be dated. 
 
 Heat gotten by degrees, with motion and exercise, 
 is moie natural, and stays longer by one, than n hat 
 is gotten all at once by coming to the fire, so weilth 
 acquired by industry proves commonly more lasting 
 than that which descends by our ancestors. 
 
 GALWAY— FROM THE DECK OF THE INDIAN KMPIRE. 
 
402 
 
 IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 MARV CARR. 
 
 on Tllli Alll'l'CTION AND RESCIIB. 
 
 'I» there » liunmn fomi, that bears n heart— 
 A wretch! avilliuu! lout to love anil truth! 
 
 Thill can, n llh «tudiod, aly, ensnarlii); art, 
 Betray a uaiden's unsuspecting youtlit' 
 
 The brilliant sun of a fine morning in Augnst was 
 beaming into a cabin that stood on the side of a retired 
 road. A pole atui-k in the thatch, from which depend- 
 ed a rusty horse shoo, indicated the trade of the owner ; 
 and in a nnnall hole, Intended to represent a window, 
 a fractured jug and footless gla«s, as plainly as hiero- 
 glyphics could do, told that the weary traveller, or de- 
 tcimined sot, might be accoiuuiodated with mountain 
 dew — in plain language, poticn whi-,key. 
 
 On this morning the smithy exhibited, in a more than 
 usnal degree, the want of ie>;uhirly. There had been 
 some merry-making in the uei;;hboihoiH), at which the 
 heads of the house spent ihc previoui night, and every 
 thing, to use a common phrase, was through other. — 
 The muster of the house had, after a short sleep in his 
 clothes, arisen, and since that more than once paid a 
 Tisit to the spirit store of his prudent wife. Some 
 young men, who had been of the night party, dropped 
 in ; spirits was called for, as the prelude to a regular 
 drinking bout, when the tramp of a horse was hoard, 
 and a loud call, ' Is there any one widin,' brought the 
 smith to the door. 
 
 A man on horseback; with a female seated on a pil- 
 lion behind him, required to have a shoe mode for his 
 horse, who stripped one, and, in consequence was lame. 
 But the smith had no coals, therefore how could he 
 make a shoe. The man said he must proceed on his 
 journey, when Vulcan, in a voice rendered almost in- 
 articulate by inebriation, declared, ' that the poor baste 
 ■would be entirely knocked up afore they had travelled 
 a mile iv ground.' 
 
 ' No help for that same,' replied the other; 'sure I 
 can't be stanin" here all day wid a finger in my mouth 
 — I must be goin' to the next smith.' 
 
 ' Faix, an' ye'll have a long ride,' said one of the 
 men from within. 
 
 ' Is id far oft' !' asked the equestrian. 
 
 'Far ofl^!' growled the smith — 'sorra dacent work- 
 man, barrin' myself, widin tin mile iv ye.' 
 
 ' Well, I must only put up wid a botch,' said the 
 other. 
 
 ' Sure, if I had a handful iv coals, the ne'r a minit 
 I'd be makin' a beautiful new shoe,' returned the smith. 
 
 • That's live horse an' ye'll get grass,' muttered the 
 horseman — ' but where could ye get coals V 
 
 ' Hooh, isn't there lashins an' lavins iv coals in the 
 town bey ant,' replied Vulcan, staggering towards the 
 horse. 
 
 ' Musha, and what news ye tell the dacent man, ye 
 drunken brule,' exclaimed the mistress of the smithy, 
 rushing out and giving her good man a push towards 
 the door ; 'go long into the house, doesn't himself 
 know there's plinty iv every goodness in that place, 
 bat that wont put a shoe on his cliver baste, God bless 
 id, an' Bind him safe over his journey. Ye dirty 
 omodhaum, (fool) ye couldn't think iv sendin' to them 
 that stud yer frind many's the time, and when ye wor 
 on the shaughran.* God look down on me this day, 
 but I'm in a poor way wid ye.' Then elevating her 
 voice to a higher key, added, 'here, Judy Casey, cum 
 here acusla — slip over to the still-house, an' Fardy 'ill 
 give ye as much coal-turf as 'ill make a shoe for this 
 honest man's baste.' 
 
 The appearance of the horseman did not warrant her 
 using the epithet gentleman, and she was obliged to 
 pause literally for lack of breath. Judy Casey, a bare- 
 legged, half-clad girl, with staring fiery looks emerged 
 from the cabin, and set off across the fields in a sling 
 trot, but had not gone many yards when the mistress 
 hallowed after her not to be a minute away, and then 
 begged tlic equestrians would alight until a shoe could 
 be made. 
 
 The man appeared fatigned, and, besides, the crav- 
 
 ings of appetite began to annoy him; ho, therefore, 
 gladly availed himself of the opportunity to rest— but, 
 previous to alighting, he said, in the Irish language, to 
 those assembled at the door, that the young girl be- 
 hind him had run away from her ])iircnts ; ho was now 
 bringing her back, and that they should not mind any 
 tiling she might say to the contrary. 
 
 This was suflicient to attract all eyes to the female, 
 and the young ^ucn of the party openly expressed their 
 admiration, exclaiming, 'Nough gan nule a colleen ee' 
 — ' is she not a handsome girl ?' Her conductor, who 
 liked not these expressions, replied, in the same lan- 
 guage, to this etVect — ' handsome is that handsome 
 does ;' and Mrs. Valcan added her mite, ssying, 
 ' daunhttrs were ever a trouble to their parents,' as she 
 led the girl to a little gloomy space, partiiioncd off 
 the kitchen, dignified by the title of the room. The 
 nmn, knowing he should have to wait some time, in- 
 quired wheibcr be could have breakfast, adding, 'Faix, 
 tliravcllin' in a raw niornin' 's a hungry thing.' 
 
 ' Sorra doubt,' replied the old woman, who sat 
 smoking in the corner ; 'maybe ye'd take a blast iv 
 the pipe, it'll draw the win' (windj art' yer stomach.' 
 
 ' It's little goodness in one house wid me,' said the 
 smith — 'but, any way, ye'll be welcome to share iv 
 what we have.' 
 
 ' God look down on the poor, it's little they have in 
 this world at all,' rejoined the old woman. 
 
 ' Thrue fur ye,' said the horseman, ' tiie poor is hard 
 cru^hed — God reward them that laves them so.' 
 
 ' Och, amiu !' was ihe response of the woman. 
 
 ' The times is bad enough, to be sure," said a fine, 
 intelligent looking young man, who was leaning against 
 ihe wall, ' but there never was a lime, iv one was wil- 
 lin' to work, that he wouldn't be able to keep himself 
 above want, an' iv they don't work they have no one 
 to blame.' 
 
 ' Work !' repeated the equestrian, contemptuously — 
 ' many's the man who lives well an' doesn't do a turn 
 iv work.' 
 
 ' Ncrra one says agin that,' replied the young man, 
 who was called Willy Dolan, ' but ihera is gintlemen.' 
 
 ' No, sorra bit — no more nor yersclf.' 
 
 ' Then, barrin' they robbed or stole,' said Willy Do- 
 lan, ' what way could they do it, an' then shuro its 
 hung they'd be.' 
 
 ' There's many's the way iv makin' money widont 
 workin' or robbin' cither,' said the horseman. 
 
 ' Bethersbin (maybe so J,' replied Willy, 'but ne'r 
 a one iv them can be honest ways, afther all.' 
 
 ' Be gaura, Willy, it's a murdher yer mother didn't 
 make a priest or a counsellare iv ye — sure enough ye'd 
 be a great one,' remarked the smith. 
 
 'Musha, then, Willy,' said the old woman, ' but I 
 wondher at ye — what do ye know, that never was tin 
 mile from home, coniparin" wid this honest man.' 
 
 ' Every one can tell honesty from roguery, Nelly,' 
 replied ihc young man, 'an' it would bo well for the 
 world iv every one like us was content to earn his 
 bread in honesty, an' not be lookin' for it in any other 
 way. I say that man's a rogue in his heart that would 
 advise a poor boy to the contreary,' and looking defi- 
 ance at the stranger, he left the house. 
 
 •Monam aycah, but AVilly Dolan's grand the day 
 — any way, it is a fine thing to have the lamin',' 
 was the remark of the mistress, as she bustled about 
 preparing the breakfast. 
 
 James Carr was what is called a man well to do 
 in the world ; he held a large farm, and was compe- 
 tent to manage it. He had married early in life, 
 and when in more humble circumstances, a person 
 superior to himself in 'L:rth and education, who, 
 nevertheless, made an excellent wife, and brought 
 up their only child, a daughter, much better than 
 girls in her rank usually are brought up. Mary 
 Carr was, indeed, deserving of th3 admiration she 
 excited in all who beheld her ; a very beautiful and 
 modest girl— the delight of her parents and neigh- 
 bors. 
 
 James Carr's landlord was an absentee, and when 
 Mary was about seventeen his son came to the 
 
 country to frnnBuct some business. lie saw Mary, 
 and was chaniied by her extreme beauty; he i^ent 
 frequently to her father's, and, on conversing with 
 her, found, that though very diffident, she was su- 
 perior to her young companions. He became much 
 attached to her, and sought every opportunity of 
 explaining his sentiments, but Mary never remniiicd 
 an instant alone with him. He then hud recourse 
 to a servant woman of Carr's, whom he bribed lib- 
 erally to plead his cause, but she was not more suc- 
 eessful. Owing to the good instructions of her 
 mother, Mary Carr was Well aware that the son of 
 her father's landlord could scarcely be honorable in 
 his intentions to her, and, when pressed by the wo- 
 man to give him a private meeting, she replied — 
 
 ' I told you often, Peggy, that it's not right for 
 me to be listening to the like of this — he's not fit for 
 me, nor I for him. What would his father and 
 friends say if they heard it r" 
 
 ' Hooli, an' what cud they say, an' let them do 
 their best; shure many's the betther nor him mar- 
 ret a eounthry girl ; an', the heavens may bliss yer 
 purty face, ye'rc a wife for the fill of his masther. 
 Shure, any way, it's no harum to spake civil to him, 
 God help the poor boy, but he has a sore heart.' 
 
 But this, and many such speeches, were of no 
 avail. Mary would not see him except in her pa- 
 rents' presence. Peggy, afraid her gains would 
 cease if she gave not the young man some hopes, 
 told many lies; and one night, when Mary was 
 asleep, the wretch cut off a lock of her hair, and 
 gave it to the lover as if sent by her. 
 
 Transporlxid by this apparent proof ot her affec- 
 tion, he determined to brave the displeasure of his 
 family and marry her. He mentioned this to a eon- 
 fidential man who lived on the property. This man 
 was named I'addy, and t he bitter enemy of James 
 Carr. He expressed the greatest surprise and sor- 
 row for what his young master was meditating, say- 
 ing it would surely break the ould master's heart. 
 He used many arguments to convince the young 
 man that the Carrs were taking him in, and that he 
 might have the girl on easier terms than matrimony. 
 In fact, Paddy worked so much on him, that he 
 consented to give up his honorable intentions, and 
 agreed to a plan, proposed by his adviser, namely, 
 that a horse and pillion should be ready on a certain 
 night, at the end of a wood beyond her father's. 
 
 'An',' added Paddy, 'I'll engage to make Peggy 
 decoy her out, ready to thravel — ye'll not appear at 
 all — I'll take her to the place ye know, an' thin I'll 
 warrant she's yer own in spite iv the watch.' 
 
 It is needless to enter into further particulars — 
 the stratagem was successful, and it was the rulfian 
 Paddy, with Mary Carr strapped round his waist, 
 who arrived at the smith's, in consequence of his 
 horse having stripped a shoe. 
 
 The breakfast was ready, and still the girl with 
 the eoal-turf did not make her appearance, though 
 the mistress declared she would be back in a minute 
 — it was time enough — the day was long, and the 
 young girl was tired — a trifle of sleep would do her 
 good. But, notwithstanding this, while bustling 
 about, Mrs. Vulcan more than once muttered — 
 
 ' Sorra be in me, Judy Casey, but iv I had a hand 
 on yer lug, I'd put the life in ye.' 
 
 At length the messenger arrived, and, when taxed 
 with delaying, swore, most vehemently, she did not 
 delay one minute ; but the mistress sprung across 
 the floor, and would have laid violent hands on her, 
 did not the bystanders interfere and push Judy out 
 of the house. 
 
 Mary Carr was invited to partake of the break- 
 fast, but declined ; and when, after many delays, 
 owing to the badness of the fire and the drunken- 
 ness of the smith, the shoe was fastened on, she was 
 led to the door by the mistress. Paddy, having al- 
 ready got on horseback, desired the smith to put the 
 girl up behind him. A\'hile a chair was bringing 
 out to facilitate her ascent, Mary, with a blanched 
 
 I 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 403 
 
 chock, and a voice tremulous from excess of agita- 
 tion, exclaimed — 
 
 ' Ah, for the love of God, good Christians, help ; 
 will you sec a poor girl dragged from her family by 
 a villain ? — oh, you couldn't be Irishmen and stand 
 by to see it done. Help me, and may the great God 
 be on your side in time of need.' 
 
 ' Hould per prate,' roared Paddy ; ' don'fb'lievc 
 a word she says, boys, it's all a lie — put her up be- 
 hind me.' 
 
 The smith was about to do so, when Willy Do- 
 lan, rushing from the crowd, laid his hand on Vul- 
 can's arm, saj'ing — 
 
 ' Mick Kelly, iv you wish for whole bones, don't 
 put a hand on that girl.' 
 
 ' Why so ?' demanded the smith. 
 'Every why,' was the answer. 
 ' I tell you, boys, not to heed her,' cried Paddy. 
 'An' I tell ye, boys,' exclaimed Willy Dolan, 
 ' that's the liar, and the black villain into the bar- 
 gain ; I tell ye she'll never sit on one horse wid ye 
 while I can handle this,' and he flourished a stout 
 shillelah with great dexterity. 
 
 ' An', wid the help iv God, that won't be long,' 
 said Paddy, pulling a pistol out of his bosom, and, 
 ere any person was aware of his intention, firing at 
 Dolan, but, missing the object of his aim, the shot 
 took effect on a young man standing at the extreme 
 edge of the crowd, who, with a loud scream, fell to 
 the ground. 
 
 For an instant the people appeared as if paralys- 
 ed, so sudden had been the shot, b ut they soon ral- 
 lied. 
 
 ' Revenge, revenge !' shouted Willy Dolan, and 
 in an instant half a dozen cudgels were raised 
 against Paddy, who wisely considered it vain to 
 contend, and, setting off at full gallop, was soon 
 beyond the reach of his enemies. 
 
 On hearing the shot, Nelly left her place in the 
 corner, and, running up to where the young man 
 was IjTng, called out that the decent boy was killed, 
 and, clapping her hands, set up the usual cry, in 
 which she was joined by the mistress and Judy 
 Casey. 
 
 ' Is there any life in him ?' asked one of the men . 
 ' Sorra dhrop — he's dead as mutton, an, bleeding 
 like a pig,' replied Nelly. 
 
 ' Oh, wirra, wirra, what luck my poor cabin had 
 the day,' said the hostess; ' sorra's name the mur- 
 dherin' ruffian didn't go some other place an' get a 
 shoe made.' 
 
 ' You may thank nobody for that but yerself,' re- 
 torted her husband. 
 
 ' Don't bother us, ye brute,' she continued, 
 ' there's throuble enough at our door ; och, och, 
 who'll tell Nanny Gilaspy that her little boy's a stiff 
 corpse y 
 
 ' An' more was the pity,' replied Nelly ; ' lower- 
 sha, it's himself was the clane boy, an' the fine 
 dancer, sorra his equal ever stud on a flure. O, 
 weera deelish, thanks an' praise be to ye, sweet Sa- 
 ver, but it's a little thing knocks the breath out iv 
 a poor sinner, the Lord prepare us for that minit, 
 amin, a chiernah.' 
 
 ' Where did the fire hit him, Nelly, dear ?' asked 
 one of the people who were collected in a ring about 
 the fallen man. 
 
 ' The ne'r a ha'porth myself sees an him,' she an- 
 swered, ' only a little cut in the side iv his neck, 
 God bless the mark.' 
 
 ' ^\^ly but ye bring him Into the house ?' said 
 another. 
 
 ' JIaybe ye want us to be mad,' answered Nelly ; 
 ' no one can tich him till the comer (coroner) cums 
 to hould a jury on him.' 
 
 ' Glory be to God,' remarked one, ' but death's a 
 poor thing. It's little Barney thought this mornin' 
 the minit was so near. 
 
 ' Thrue fur ye. Pettier ; no one knows what's 
 afore him in the mornin' ; little fear but ids the 
 
 young id go — there's Lucause bockagh (lame Luke) 
 that'd be no loss, an' shure he wasn't tuk, glory be 
 to ye, sweet Saver,' and Nelly gave three distinct 
 knocks on her bare breast with her clenched hand, 
 while with the other she reached a pipe to the girl, 
 adding — ' Judy, alanna, run an' put a bit iv a coal 
 in the pipe, the heart is sore widin me.' 
 
 All this time the smith and his wife were in con- 
 sultation at the door, she rocking backwards and 
 forwards ; at length they seemed to agree, for she 
 called — 
 
 ' Here, Judy Casey, why but ye go in an' ready 
 the house, sorra good ye'll do stanin' there. Ah, 
 boys, dear, isn't it awondher but one iv ye steps 
 over for Nancj' Gilaspy — Lord comfort her sore 
 heart the day. An' shure another of yees ought to 
 run for the corner, an' let the poor boy, God rest 
 his sowl, be lyin' an the ground all night.' 
 
 Having issued all these orders in a breath, she 
 turned to Mary Carr, who had sunk on the chair, 
 almost unconscious of what was passing round her, 
 so much had she been terrified. The hostess came 
 close to her, saying — 
 
 ' Ah thin, that was an unlucky man that cum a 
 near my poor cabin the day. Lord reward him.' 
 
 Mary enquired whether any person was hurt. 
 
 ' Hurted ?' exclaimed Mrs. Vulcan, ' hurted ye say? 
 — faix, there's a dacent mother's son kilt, and the 
 like never happened at one dour wid me afore.' 
 
 ' Are you quite certain he is killed ?' said Mary. 
 
 ' Seein's bleevin,' replied the other, catching Ma- 
 ry's arm, and dragging rather than leading her to 
 where the body lay, surroiuided by the people, Nel- 
 ly smoking and talking vehemently. 
 
 Mary, on not perceiving Paddy, gained more 
 presence of mind, and said — 
 
 ' Why don't you stop the blood ?' 
 
 ' There's no use in id an he dead,' replied Nelly, 
 with a deriding sneer. 
 
 But Mary was not deterred ; she prevailed on the 
 smith's wife to get cold water and clothes to stop the 
 blood, Nelly all the while growling — 
 
 ' Don't make a fool of yourself, Hetty, sorra dhrop 
 in him more nor a stone.' 
 
 On cleansing the wound it appeared little more 
 than a scracth. They bathed his face plentifully 
 with cold water, and raised his head to the air ; still 
 Nelly said — 
 
 ' Let to yer nonsense, the boy's kilt out and out, 
 he'll never stan' on the green grass agin.' 
 
 However, in a short time, to Nelly's utter amaze- 
 ment, the 5'oung man was restored to animation, and 
 was walking towards the house, when his mother 
 rushed up, like a person deranged, followed by men, 
 women, and children. The young man was not in- 
 jured ; the ball slightly grazed his neck, the shock 
 of which, and extreme terror, deprived him of ani- 
 mation. Many were the exclamations of the crowd 
 on Mary's cleverness, and Nelly was loudest in ac- 
 cusing him of being so weak as to be killed by such 
 a trifle. 
 
 When Willy Dolan had left the house, as before 
 mentioned, he went to where the aperture that gave 
 light to the room opened. In fact, he was smitten 
 by the beauty of Mary, and thought — 
 
 ' Iv she run away afore, maybe she'll cum wid 
 me.' 
 
 Mary was leaning with her face at the window, 
 and in tears ; she was almost in despair, and did not 
 move on seeing him. He said — 
 
 ' Don't cry, Miss, don't be afeard, yer people 
 wcmt be angry now yer goin back agin.' 
 
 ' My people !' exclaimed Mary. ' What do you 
 mean ?' 
 
 ' Spake asy,' said Dolan — ' ani't ye goin back to 
 yer frinds, aftlier runnin away from them ? — but 
 never heed, ye're not the first that done the like, an 
 no one 'U cast it u]) to ye.' 
 
 ' Is thij the story the villain invented to destroy 
 me,' cried Mary ; and in a few words she gave an 
 account of the real state of the case. 
 
 Such is the force of truth, and perhaps coming 
 with more force from the lips of a beautiful girl, that 
 Dolan gave implicit credit to every word, and ex- 
 claimed — 
 
 ' Well, well, the thief of the world, I knew he 
 wasn't good — he'll pay for this,' then after a short 
 pause, he added, ' iv ye'll depind on me, Miss, I'll 
 do my best to help ye.' 
 
 ' There's something in your face that tells me you 
 will not deceive a poor girl ; I will depend upon you, 
 and may God reward you as you deal with mc. On- 
 ly I trusted in God I wouldn't be able to speak to 
 you now, praise to him he helped me to go through 
 last night.' 
 
 ' May I never sin, iv I could desave any girl, an' 
 ye above all the world,' in saying so Willy Dolan's 
 fine face was lighted up with a glow of honest affec- 
 tion ; he continued, ' when they want to put ye up 
 behind the villcn agin, go quitely (quietly) to the 
 door, ax the boys to help ye, and lave the rest to me; 
 I must be goin now.' 
 
 He then went among the young men, and put 
 them up to the rescue, which as has been seen, was 
 happily effected. 
 
 We are limited, and therefore cannot dwell much 
 longer on the affairs of the interesting Mary Carr. 
 It was determined she should proceed back to her 
 parents, accompanied by Willy Dolan, of whom 
 Mrs. Vulcan said — 
 
 ' An ye needn't be afeard, dear, to go wid Willy 
 Dolan, sorra quiter nor dacenter boy in the coun- 
 thry, for discreetness an modesty.' 
 
 However, before the horse could be got, Mary was 
 overjoved by the appearance of her father and some 
 of his neighbors. Peggy on seeing the distraction 
 of Mary's parents when she was missed, repented, 
 and acknowledged her share in the transaction. In 
 consequence, a pursuit was instituted, and, happen- 
 ing to take the same road, they intercepted Paddy, 
 in his fiight from the smith's, which led to the dis- 
 covery of Mary. 
 
 Paddy was tried at the assizes, and punished for 
 his part in the abduction of Mary Carr ; and, in the 
 end, she was married to Willy Dolan. 
 
 Smuggling in the Netheblakds. — Dogs of a 
 very large and strong breed for the purpose of draft, 
 are harnessed in the Netherlands, like horses, and 
 chiefly employed in drawing carts with fish, vege- 
 tables, eggs, &c., to market. Previous to the year 
 1725, such dogs were also employed in smuggling, 
 which was the more easy, as they arc extremely do- 
 cile. As it is probable that this mode of smuggling 
 may have been again resorted to since the year 
 1815, the following account will be found correct. 
 The dogs were accustomed to go backwards and for- 
 wards between two places on the fiontiers, without 
 any person to attend them. A dog of this kind was 
 worth six or seven lous d'ors, as the training cost 
 some trouble. Being loaded with parcels of goods 
 lace, &c., like mules, they set out, and only when it 
 was perfectly dark. An excellent, quick scented 
 dog, always went some paces before the other, 
 stretched out his nose to all quarters, and when he 
 scented custom house officers, &c., turned back, 
 which was the the signal for immediate flight. Con- 
 cealed in ditches, behind bushes, &c., the dogs lay, 
 till all was safe ; they then proceeded on their jour- 
 ney, and reached at last, beyond the frontier, the 
 dwelling of the receiver, who was in the secret. 
 But here also, the leader only at first shewed him- 
 self, but on hearing a certain whistle which was the 
 signal that every thing was right, they all hastened 
 up. They were then unloaded, taken to a convenient 
 stable, where there was a good layer of hay, and 
 well fed. There they rested till midnight, and then 
 returned in the same manner back, over the fron- 
 tiers. In London, the butchers make dogs draw 
 carts with a quarter of ox beef; and the poor peas- 
 antry of Ireland might make dogs diaw manure 
 when they could not afford to keep a horse. 
 
404 
 
 IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 SONG. 
 
 Along tbcdlreum of life wc row, 
 
 With coii»tant mind; 
 Stjil lightly touching db we go, 
 
 Eiich port we llnd. 
 The (lulIr^t epot ne carol by, 
 
 IVilh laoghand lay; 
 And be it still, with t^mile or sigh— 
 
 Touch, and away! 
 
 Wc never dream that tunny Loura 
 
 Were made to last; 
 But know, like tbeni, that storms and ehowe 
 
 MuHt ftoon be putit. 
 And time fpriugt paKf. and tipringft return ; 
 
 Joys come ami due — 
 And tober mot lals laugh and mourn — 
 
 We still are free: 
 
 CAROLIN, THE IRISH BARD. 
 
 The celebrated Irish liaril, Carolin, wlio lived to. 
 wards the close of the sivintccnth centHrT, and was 
 hlind from his infancy, had, from an error in his edu- 
 cation, at an early perioil of his life, contruitid a foiid- 
 ness for spirituous liquors, which he retained even to 
 the last stage of it. But inordinate gratification bear 
 their own punishment ; nor w as Carolin exempt from 
 this general imposition. His physicians assured him, 
 that unless he corrected this vicious habit, he would 
 soon put an end to his mortal career. He obeyed with 
 reluctance, and seriously resolved upon never tasting 
 that forbidden, though to him delicious, cup. The 
 town of Boyle, in the county of Rosscoinnion, was at 
 that time his principal place of residince. There, 
 while nnder so severe a regimen, he walked, or rather 
 wandered about in a reverie : his usual gaiety forsook 
 him ; no sallies of a lively imnginaiion escaped him; 
 every moment was marked by a dejection of spirits, 
 approaching to melancholy ; and his harp, his favorite 
 harp, lay in some obscure corner of his habitation, 
 neglected and unstrung. Passing one day by a gro- 
 cer's shop in the town, our Iiish Oqiheus, after a six 
 week's ((uaratine, was templed to step in ; undermined 
 whether he should abide by his late resolution, or 
 whether he should yield to the impulse' which he felt 
 at the moment. 'Well, my dear friend,' cried he to 
 the young man who stood behind the counter, 'you 
 see I am a man of constancy; for six long weeks have 
 I refrained from whiskey: was there ever so great an 
 instance of self-deniaH But a thought strikes me, and 
 surely you will not be cruel enough to refuse one grati- 
 fication which I shall earnestly solicit. Bring hither a 
 measure of my favourite liquor, which I shall smell to, 
 but indeed shall not taste.' The lad indulged him on 
 that condition; and no sooner did the fumes ascend to 
 his brain, than every latent spark within him was 
 rekindled. His countenance glowed with an unusual 
 brightness; and the solilo()uy which he repeated over the 
 cup, was the eft'usion of a heart newly animated, and 
 the ramblings of a genius which a Sterne would have 
 pursued with raptures of delight. At length, to the 
 great peril of his health, and contrary to the advice of 
 medical friends, he once more quaffed the forbidden 
 draught, and renewed the brimmer, until his spirits 
 were sufficiently exhilarated, and until his mind had 
 resumed its former tone. He immediately set about 
 composing his much admired song, which goes by the 
 name of Carolan's (and sometimes Stafford's) Receipt. 
 — He commenced the words, and began to mo lulatc 
 the air in the evening at Boyle, and before the following 
 morning he sung and played this noble offspring o^f 
 his imagination in Mr. Stafford's parlour at Elphin. 
 
 Carolin's inordinate fondness for Irish wine, as Peter 
 the Great used to call whiskey, will certainly not admit 
 of excuse; it was a vice of habit, and therefore might 
 have been corrected; but he seldom drank to excess; 
 and he seemed to think, nay, was convinced from ex- 
 perience, that the spirit of whiskey was grateful to his 
 muse, and for that reason he generally offered it when 
 he wished to invoke her. 'They tell me,' says Dr. 
 Campbell, 'that in later days he never composed with- 
 out the inspiration of whiskey, of which, at that 
 critical time, he always took care to have a bottle beside 
 him." 
 
 It is somewhat remarkable, that Carolin, in his 
 gayest mood, and oven when his genius was most 
 elevated by the 'flowing bowl.' never could eomjiose a 
 planxty for a Miss Brett in the Connty of Sli^o, whose 
 father's house he freqnentcd, and where he always met 
 with a reception due to his exi|uisite taste and mental 
 endowments. One day, aftiran unsuccestful attempt 
 to compose something in a sprightly train for this lady, 
 he threw aside his harp with a mixtui-c of rage and 
 grief; and addressing himself in Iii.-h, of which he was 
 a pleasing and elegant speaker, to her mother, 
 ' Madam," said he, 'I have often, from my great respect 
 to yonr family, attempted a planxty, in order to cele- 
 brate your daughter's perfections, but to no purpose. 
 Some evil genius hovers over me; there is not a string 
 in my harp lliat docs not vibrate a melancholy sound 
 when I set about this task. I tear she is not doomed 
 to remuin long among us; nay,' said ho emphatically, 
 'the will not survive twelve months.' The event veri- 
 fied the prediction, and the young lady died within the 
 period limited by the unconscious prophetic bard. 
 
 ANCIENT IRISH POETRY. 
 
 In the second volume of Hardiman's collection of 
 Irish poems is to he found some elegiac stanzas on 
 the dtaili of Oliver Grace, the heir of the baronial 
 house of Couristown, which we have illustrated in the 
 13ih nuralier of our paper, which, from the rare beauty 
 of their poetry, harmony of their numbers, and the 
 freedom of their structure from those alliterations and 
 other minute restrictions which have cramped the metre 
 of many of the other valuable compositions of our Irish 
 Bards, seem to me well worthy of a place in your 
 Journal, if you think it not sufficient to refer your read- 
 ers to Mr. Hardiman's work. I send you a literal 
 translation which I have attempted, and in which I 
 most strictly adhered to the original, which, however, 
 it will be necessary to understand in order fully to ap- 
 preciaie the beauties of the poem. Your readers will 
 perceive that the translation which I have sent you 
 does not differ materially from Doctor Drummond's 
 accurate metrieial version. 
 
 I should observe that Mr. Hardiman places the death 
 of Oliver Grace in the year 1604; but this is a mistake, 
 as will be evident by referring to the interesting 
 ■Memoirs of the Grace Family,' there being no person 
 of that family whom the elegy could possibly suit, ex- 
 cept Oliver Grace, of Inchmore, called File, or the 
 poet, to whom it is applicable in every particular. He 
 is stated, in the Memoirs, to be the son of Robert 
 Grace, Baron of Courtstown, by his wife Eleanor 
 daughter of David Condon, Lord of Condon's country, 
 i n the county of Cork, by Eleanor, daughter of Richard, 
 Lord Poer of Curraghmore: but by a reference to the 
 will of Sir Richard Shee, dated 24th December, 1603 
 (a copy of which is in my possession) — whose daugh- 
 ter, Letitia Shee, was married to John Grace, of 
 Courtstown, father of the said Robert Grace, and 
 grandfather of Oliver, of Inchmore — it appears that 
 Robert Grace's wife was the daughter of Patrick 
 Condon. The following are the extracts from the will 
 referring to this subject. 
 
 'Item, where-upon the agreement of rtiarriadge of 
 Mr. Patricke Condon, of my grandchilde, Robert 
 Grace, to his daughter, Mrs. Ellen Condon, the said 
 Patricke delivered unto me £100sterling current money 
 of England, in bullion, to be given in proferment to my 
 daughter, is daughter Margaret Grace that is with me, 
 I will that my wyfe and executors, with the advice of 
 some of my feoffees and brethern, shall provyde a fytt 
 husbande for her, and that myne executors of my 
 soules portion, shall deliver unto her and her husband, 
 in marriage goods, one hundred pounds sterling cur- 
 rent moncye of England, in Bullion; and if God shall 
 dispose of the said Margaret before marriadge, then my 
 will is, that my executors shall pay the same £100 to 
 her brethern, Richard and Edmund Grace, in regard 
 that they are poor orphans, haveinge noihiagc leaft 
 unto them for their mayntenance by their father and 
 mother; and if they should die before they receive the 
 said moneye, then I will that the said moneye be paid 
 
 unto their elder brother Robert Grace. Item, when 
 Mr. Patricke Condon is bounde by bonde to me that 
 Edmond Purcell of Ballyfoille, shall marry my grand- 
 child, Catherine Grace, or in lieu thereof to pay uDlo 
 her £300 sterling, current moncye in Englaml, for the 
 preferment of the saide Catherine Grace to a husband, 
 I earnestly beseech my sonne and heire, and the rest of 
 my executors, upon my hlessinge, if ncede be, by suyte 
 of law, upon the refusal of the saido Purcell, to compel 
 the said Patricke ('ondon, upon his bonde, to pay the 
 sayde moneye to the use aforesaide; and yf she should 
 happen ta (Jje before preferment, the said X300, to ha 
 to her brother, Mr. Robert Grace, in regard that ho 
 most lovelinglie and kindlie bestow his own marriadge 
 for iho benefytt of her and her sister by myne advice 
 and intreatie. Item, I leave to my father Lettisso 
 iShce's daughter, Margaret Grace, a flock of sheep, ia 
 number foure skore. (tern, I leave to piy saido daugh- 
 ter, is son and heir, Robert Grace, one of my double 
 gillt bowels of plate wiih his cover, wherein I common- 
 lie drincke aquavitae and clarett wyne, as a token of 
 remembrance of my love.' 
 
 The will of Sir Richard Shee has been lost by the 
 Preroga'ivc Office, where it was proved in IGOH, or it 
 CO uld not have escaped the accurate researches of the 
 author of 'Memoirs of the Grace Family.' 
 
 ELEGY ON THE DEATH OF OLIVEB GKACE. 
 
 By John Fitzwalter Walsh. 
 
 1. A gloomy mist is in each mountain, a mist that 
 appeared not before; there is a sullen silence in noon- 
 tide; the deep voice of sorrow alone is heard. 
 
 2. The sound of death is in the wind: alas! to ns 'tis 
 the approach of sorrow! The raven with hoarse voice, 
 portends the hour of the dead. 
 
 3. Is it for thee, O noWe youth of my heart, that 
 the banshee mournful wails, in the midst of the silent 
 lonely ni ght; plaintiff she sings the song of death. 
 
 4. Each wal I and tower replies to her with its lonelj 
 sullen echo: the cock has forgotten bis wonted call, 
 and anounces not time nor hour. 
 
 ii. Alas, youthful Oliver of my heart, it is thy death 
 the banshee laments — it is that wh ich brings night on 
 the day — it is it which brings sadnes s on the people. 
 
 6. Woe is me, nought now remains to us in the hero' 
 stead, but lamentation and tears: pouring out of tears, 
 weeping and lamentation, hereafter to us, and breaking 
 of hearts. 
 
 7. Alas! O death, thou hast laid low forever the blcj 
 som and beauty of our highest branch: — not satisfied 
 with thy conquest till the head of our race sunk into 
 the grave. 
 
 8. Strong was his arm in the clash of swords defend- 
 ing the right of his race and kindred, beneath the 
 standard of his father: — and Ormond* who acquired 
 fame afar. 
 
 9. Not usual in Courtstown is the mist of Lonon 
 that cannot be dispelled: the heart of its faithful 
 lord is wounded through the death of the youth Of 
 mighty deeds. 
 
 10. The true heir of his name, his fame and his 
 power, and the air of his domains in each region of 
 Erin: Stately as the oak was his aspect — he promised 
 to spread wide his branches. 
 
 11. But not thus was the hero's fate: — It was to de- 
 scend alone to the silent tomb. Alas! 'twas a long 
 woe to him in his day, and sorrow of heart to his 
 spousct for ever. 
 
 12. She is a mother oppressed with grief— descend- 
 ing swiftly to her spouse in the grave — the father of her 
 children, and her first love: — Alas, anguish is her lot. 
 
 13. No more shall he follow the chace under the dark 
 vales of the misty hills; — the sweet sounding horn no 
 
 • .lames the 12tb Earl, aud afterwards let Duke of Or- 
 mond. 
 
 t Joan, wife of Oliver Grace, was the daughter and heir 
 to Sir Cyprian Horsfall of Innisnagg, only son of John 
 llorsfall, Bishop of Ossory, a native of Yorkehirc, who suc- 
 ceeded to that see in 1086, and died there in 1C89. Oliver 
 Grace's son and heir, John Grace, was a member of the 
 council of confederate Catholics, and was permitted by 
 Cromwell to compound lor his estates. 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 405 
 
 more shall ho hear — nor the voico of the hounds on the 
 mountain top. 
 
 14. No more shall wo boholil him on his Hoot younf; 
 steed, bounding o'er fence and djke. — there is an 
 eclipse on his beauty forever; deep mist has descended 
 on his greatness. 
 
 15. Weak lies his bounteou"! hand; dead and power- 
 less is his manly heart — the descendant of heroes, and 
 friend of the bard, the lover of the miastrel's lofty 
 strain. 
 
 16. Thy fame needs not the light of song; but my 
 lament shall ascend on high, and my tears shall fall at 
 the close of each day, on the tomb o*^ the hero for 
 whom mv heart is broken. W. 
 
 ON THE IMPORTANCE OF A GOOD EDUCA- 
 TION. 
 
 To those who have enjoyed the blessings of a good 
 education, its numerous advantages need not be point- 
 ed out — conviction and consciousness establish the 
 tact beyond the possibility of disputation. It tends to 
 dispel the darkness, uncertainty, and gloom in which 
 ingnorance has fixed its dreary empire: ard as all men 
 are naturally fond of liberty and life — as the strong 
 exults in conscious powers — and, as thy eye is ravish- 
 ed with the cheering light of the morning, after the sun 
 has dispelled nocturnal darkness; in like manner the 
 mind, originally intended for contemplation and expan- 
 sion, experiences an inexpressible hilarity in the ac- 
 quisition of new ideas and conceptions, about which its 
 intellectual powers may be rationally engaged and 
 exercised. Wliat an extensive dominion of mind 
 then do they acquire, who merely learn to read! and 
 what a change do they perceive, in emerging from the 
 preceding darkness, which brooded over the mind! 
 
 By education we gain access to all those historical 
 facts discoveries, arts, inventions, improvements, and 
 instructions, which have been kept on record, and 
 transmitted to us from the earliest state of human 
 society. In tiie autedeluvian ages, the longevity of 
 men enabled them to acquire considerable knowledge 
 by observations and experience. Of course they 
 would have the less need of books and chronological 
 registers. The pastoral mode of life, too, in which 
 they were generally engaged, would render what is 
 now called education, in a great measure unnecessary. 
 Oar condition, however, is materially different. The 
 period of our lives is comparatively short — ouremploy- 
 ments are diversified, and our wants multiplied. Hence 
 the necessity of having recourse to books, and all other 
 means in our power, for instruction in whatever art, 
 trade, profession, or business we intend to pass our 
 time. Whatever rudeness we discover among the 
 ancients, when arts and sciences began to be introduced 
 among them, as their means and information were 
 comparatively limited, tlieir diligence and application 
 would be proportionably intense and vigorous. As 
 experience therefore is better than theory, their labo- 
 rious investigations are well entitled to our deference. 
 They, eis it were, supply the raw materials; and it is 
 our business to choose, select, work up, and apply it 
 for our own advantage, as circumstances may require. 
 
 Education is likewise most valuable, as an inlet to 
 the mind, since it affords its possessor enlightened, 
 rational and liberal views, on every subject with which 
 it is necessary ho should bo acquainted. -It induces 
 him to cultivate social intercourse with his superiors 
 in knowledge — .iflFords him amusement in solitude — 
 alleviates his miseries in adversity — and furni.shes him 
 with innumerable resources, in incidental difficulties, 
 which often produce despondency and desperation in 
 the ignorant and unlearned. 
 
 Observe this contrast between the unlearned peasant, 
 and the man who has obtained a liberal education. 
 The former is doomed to overwhelming darkness of 
 mind — has no true relish for enjoyments beyond those 
 that are gross and common to him with the inferior 
 animals — and can procure the necessaries of life, only, 
 by extreme toil ad corporeal exertions. The latter 
 on the other hand, has an extensive dominion of bis 
 
 own, which can never be successfully invaded, or great- 
 ly disturbed 
 
 In all our remarks, however, we must bo under- 
 stood, as speaking of genuine and correct education; 
 for, where the fountain is impure, the streams must he 
 so likewise. There is no greater curse, to which the 
 human family are obnoxious, than half-learned, up- 
 start, bungling teaclicrs; and there is none of equal 
 magnitude more common to bo met with. That man- 
 kind should have been gulled and cajoled in the dark 
 ages, when education was the attainment of a few, is 
 not wonderful; but that the tuition of youth, in the 
 nineteenth century — this era of boasted civilization and 
 refinement, should be intrusted to an unemployed 
 clerk, of indolent habits, who can perhaps read and 
 write a little better than the lower orders of society; or 
 to an unsuccessful mechanic, who, to avoid starvation, 
 turns teacher; — is monstrously absurd. Were parents 
 and guardians thoroughly sensible of the incalculable 
 advantages of a sound edncation, and the pernicious 
 cflTccts of the contrary, a few shillings a quarter would 
 be a matter of very little account, in preparing the 
 youth of the present generation, for fiilling up their 
 respective situations in life, with satisfaction and credit 
 to themselves, and advantage to society. The con- 
 sideration of a slight saving here, is wretched economy 
 indeed. It is to be penny wise and pound foolish, 
 with a witness! While the worthless quack endeavors 
 to acquire popularity by the amazing rapidity with 
 which his pupils advance and the immensely large 
 tasks they c<tn perform, it is the object of the genuine 
 instructor of youth, to ascertain as correctly as possible 
 the natural talents and capacities of his pupils — to lay 
 the foundation deep, and to rear the superstructure 
 slowly, in its first stages — to class boys judiciously, 
 according to their ages and abilities — to prescribe their 
 tasks in due proportion to their mental endowments — 
 to enforce their attention to the given task, by strict 
 and well-timed discipline — and never to take a lessim 
 oft' their hand ill prepared, if they be capable of getting 
 it better, by revisal and increased application. If 
 school-training go on in this manner, the progress of 
 the pupil, however slow, will be natural, regular, and 
 such as might be expected; the powers of his mind 
 will gradually expand, and his abilities improve; 
 difficulties, which at first seemed insurmountable, wilj 
 insensibly vanish; he will find a pleasure in the per- 
 formance of his duty; and will never be satisfied with 
 himself, while he is conscious that reproof and disgrace, 
 may be avoided, by a little additional exertion and 
 care. And, as he has been thus trained at school, so 
 will he incline to regulate his general conduct, when 
 free from the coercive restraint of academic denomina- 
 tion, and he becomes his own master. 
 
 As much depends on the first bias given to the mind 
 by parental instruction, we may be allowed to ofl'er a 
 few general observations on this point, and it can nev- 
 er be too often repeated, that education to be radically 
 efficacious and operative, not on the mere external be- 
 haviour, but on the heart of the pupil, must be found- 
 ed on, and fortified by the fair and consistent example 
 of the instructor — without this, precept will only make 
 hypocrites. There must be combined in the mind of 
 the anxious parent who desires to make a lasting im- 
 pression, that will influence while ho survives, and 
 even from the grave have power to speak to the alTec- 
 tions of his child, tenderness to engage love, candour 
 to attract confidence, gravity to command respect, au- 
 thority to secure submission, 'and affability to render it 
 a service of perfect freedom— there should be serverity 
 that has nothing revolting, compliance that has noth- 
 ing base, mildness that knows how to forgive, firmness 
 that can punish and repress, wisdom that can some- 
 times dissemble and seem ignorant at what it sees, 
 deep attention to discover the ruling passions, atten- 
 tion if possible more deep to counteract them, and yet 
 to conceal the discovery — in fine, almost as mjny 
 forms of proceedings, as there are children to educate, 
 for as every plant requires not the same kind of cul- 
 ture, so what would be useful in forming the mind of 
 one child, would be dangerous, or even fatal in form- 
 ing that of another — but where arc tho parents who 
 
 would know themselves in this representation 1 Sens i- 
 ble they may bo of its justice, but such a tax on their 
 time and attention is found incompatible with their 
 ordinary pursuits, incompatible with a life of clfemina- 
 cy and indolence, of business or intrigue, of play or 
 pleasure, of tr.anquility and repose— what is tho conse- 
 quence 1 Why, in the little they may do to forward 
 this great work, they fall into a thousand errors, be- 
 ing directed more by humour and impatience, than by 
 sound and serious reflection. 
 
 Some are even brutal to excess in the treatment of 
 their children, converting an occupation in which ten- 
 derness should take the le.ad, into a system of down- 
 right persecution; when called upon to reprehend, 
 they do it in words of wormwood and gall, when 
 forced to approve, their manner is cold and discourag- 
 ing, they neither do justice to the virtues, or can for- 
 give the weakness of youth ; no entreaties can mollify, 
 no tears disarm them — their families are the regions of 
 eternal tempests, where nothing is heard but the 
 moans of the oppressed, and the bellow of the tyrant. 
 Hence, the most ardent longing for emancipation, and 
 hence the youth of one sex plunge into vice early and 
 openly, more perhaps, from rage against their perse- 
 cutors, than from natural inclination ; and those of the 
 other fly into the arms of the first man who offers to 
 be their deliverer, from unequal matches, or become 
 victims of a far more deplorable misfortune. 
 
 They may be, however, and there often is, a defect 
 in the conduct of parents of a nature the very opposite, 
 namely, that of loving their children too much, or 
 more properly speaking, to their ruin. Dreadful are 
 the consequences of that blind affection which will see 
 no fault in a child, and suffer all the untoward propen- 
 sities of his nature to grow up and strengthen, for fear 
 of afflicting him by control ; parents, who are invested 
 with a species of sovereign authority over their chil- 
 dren, should use it with tender reluctance on all occa- 
 sions, but when necessary with inflexible justice, noth- 
 ing should stand between them and the most sacred 
 duty; but if from the beginning, education has been 
 rightly instituted, there will seldom, if ever be occasion 
 for the exercise of this unwelcome privilege. The 
 heart under proper regulation, will beat in sympathy 
 with the warm wishes and expectations of parental 
 love, and reward it by a life of virtue and benevolence. 
 
 MuLHEKN THE Irish Conjurbr. — A man of the 
 name of Koger Mulhern, who lived for many years 
 near Carlingford, had the reputation, while he lived, of 
 being a great conjurer; and his memory is still regard- 
 ed with great reverence by the Irish peasantry, of that 
 neighborhood. This impostor pretended, that by the 
 aid of a familiar spirit, he could tell the state of the 
 dead. Several people, anxious to know how tlieir 
 relatives fared in the other world, flocked to the house 
 of this sage, who gave them a nights lodging free of 
 expense, and by artful inquiries drew from his visitora 
 a knowledge of such circumstances in the life of the do- 
 parted friend, as enabled him to decide .whether he was 
 happy or miserable. His fame increased, and he was 
 taken up as an impostor, and bound not to continue 
 his practices. 
 
 This for some time deterred people from going 
 publicly to his house, yet they visiied him with the 
 greatest secrecy, under the veil of night; and he, as a 
 reward for their faithfulness, presented each person 
 with a shilling, besides giving them the most satisfac- 
 tory information respecting the deceased . 
 
 The manner of duelling in Japan is singular, and to 
 us may appear absurd and barbarous; the philosophi- 
 cal observer may, perhaps, consider it as rational as 
 an appeal to the sword or pistol. When two men of 
 honour (juarrcl in that country, the party who conceives 
 himself injured, rips up his own entrails with a large 
 knife, and presenting the instrument to his adversary, 
 invites him to follow his example. No Japanese gen- 
 tleman can decline the invitation, for if he does not 
 instantly plunge the knife into his own bowels, he is 
 dishonoured for ever. 
 
T 
 
 406 
 
 IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 LARRV MOORE. 
 
 ' If lubor j.'«paln, ami tliotif^bt is sorrow, 
 ^Vi^doIn will letul us out ol'thu way — 
 bring UK pleasure to-duy niid cart' tu-raorrow — 
 To-morrow that uover can hv to-day.' 
 
 'Think of to-morrow!' — that is what no Irish 
 peasant ever tlitl yet, with a view of providing for 
 it ; at least no one I have hail an opportunity of be- 
 ing acquainted with. He will think of any thing — 
 of every thing but that. There is Larry Moore, for 
 example : — who, that has ever vi.-.ited my own pas- 
 toral village of Bnnnow, is unaquainted with Lar- 
 ry, the Bonnow boatman — tlie invaluable Larry — 
 who tipsy or sober, asleep or awake, rows his boat 
 ■with undeviating power and pretision : — He, alas ! 
 is a strong proof of the truth of my observation. 
 Look at him on a tine sunny day in June. The clitfs 
 that sliirt the shore where his boat is moored are 
 crowned with wild furze ; while, here and there, a 
 tuft of white or yellow broom, sprouting a little 
 above the bluish green of its prickly neighbor, waves 
 its blossoms, and flings its fragrance to the passing 
 breeze. Down to the very edge of the rippling 
 waves is almost one unbroken bed of purple thyme, 
 glowing and beautiful ; and there Larry's goat, 
 with her two sportive kids — shy, cunning rogues ! 
 find rich pasture — now nibbling the broom bios- j 
 soms, now sporting amid the furze, and making the 
 scenery re-eeho with their musical bleating. The 
 little island opposite, Lurry considers his own par- 
 ticular property j not that a single sod of its bright 
 greenery belongs to him — but, to use his own words, 
 ' sure it's all as one as my own — don't I see it — 
 don't I walk upon it — and the very water that it's 
 set in is my own ; for sorra a one can put foot on it 
 widout me and the coble, (boat) that have been hand 
 and glove as good as forty years.' 
 
 But look, I pray you, upon Larry : there he lies, 
 stretched in the sun-light, at full length, on the firm 
 sand, like a man porpoise — sometime on his back — 
 then slowly turning on his side — but his most usual 
 attitude is a sort of reclining position against that 
 flat grey stone, just at high water mark ; he selects 
 it as his constant resting place, because (again to use 
 his own words) ' the tide, bad ecss to it ! was apt to 
 come fast in upon a body, and there was a dale of 
 throuble in moving ; but even if one chanced to fall 
 asleep, sorra a morsel of harm the salt water could 
 do ye on the grey stone, where a living merwoman 
 sat every new year's night combing her black hair, 
 and making beautiful music to the wild waves, who 
 consequently, trated her sate wid grate respict — 
 •why not ?' There, then is Larry — his chest leaning 
 on the mermaid's stone, as we call it — his long bare 
 legs stretched out behind, kicking, oecasionlly, as a 
 gad-fly or merry-hopper skips about, what he natur- 
 ally considers lawful prey : — his lower garments 
 have evidently once been tiowsers — blue trowsers; 
 but as Larry, w'hen in motion, is amphibious, they 
 have experienced the decaying effects of salt water, 
 and now only descend to the knee, where they ter- 
 minate in unequal fringes. Indeed, his frieze jacket 
 is no great things, being rubbed at the elbows — and 
 no wonder ; for Larry when awake, is ever employ- 
 ed, either in pelting the sea-gulls (who to con- 
 fess the truth, treat him with very little respect,) 
 rowing his boat, or watching the circles which the 
 large and small pebbles he throws in form on the 
 surface of the calm waters, and as Larry, of course 
 rests his arm while he performs the above named ex- 
 ploits, the sleeves must wear, for frieze is not ' im- 
 penetrable stuff.' His hat is a natural curiosity, 
 composed of sun-bumcd straw, banded by a mis- 
 shapen sea-ribbon, and garnished by ' delisk," red 
 and green, his cutty pipe stuck through a slit in the 
 brim, which bends it directly over the left eye, and 
 keeps it ' quite handy widout any trouble.' His 
 bushy reddish hair persists in obstinately pushin" 
 its way out of every hole in his extraordinary hat, 
 
 or clusters strangely over his Herculean shoulders, 
 and a low furrowed brow, very ui\promising in the 
 eye of o phrenologist : — in truth, Larry has some- 
 what of a dogged expression of countenance, which 
 is relieved, at times, by the humorous twinkling of 
 his little grey eyes, pretty much in the manner that 
 a star or two illume the dreary blank of a cloudy 
 November night. The most conspicuous jjart of his 
 attire, however, is an undressed, wide leather belt, 
 that passes over one shoulder, and then under an- 
 other strap of the same material that encircles his 
 waist : — from this depends a rough wooden case, 
 containing his whiskey bottle ; a long narrow knife ; 
 pieces of rope of various length and thickness ; and 
 a pouch which contains the money he earns in his 
 'vocation.' 
 
 ' Good morrow, Larry !' 
 
 'Uood morrow kindly, my lady ; may-be ye'rc 
 going across ?' 
 
 ' No, thank ye, Larry : — but there's a silver six- 
 pence for good luck.' 
 
 ' Ough ! God's blessing be about ye ! — I said so to 
 my woman this morning, and she bothering the sowl 
 out o' me for money, as if I could make myself into 
 silver, let alone brass : — asy, says I, what trouble ye 
 takes ! — sure we had a good dinner yesterday ; and 
 more by tokens, the grawls were so plased wid the 
 mate — the creturs ! — sorra a morsel o' prattee they'd 
 put into their mouths : — and we'U have as good a 
 one to day.' 
 
 ' The ferry is absolutely filled with fish, Larry, if 
 you would only take the trouble to catch it.' 
 
 ' Is it fish ? Ough ! Sorra fancy have I for fast- 
 ing mate — besides, it'smighty watery, and a dale of 
 trouble to catch. A grate baste of a cod leapt into 
 my boat yesterday, and I lying just here, and the 
 boat close up : I ihought it would ha' sted asy a 
 while I hallooed to Tom, who was near breaking his 
 neck after the samphire for the quality, the gomcr- 
 sal ! — but my jewel ! it was whip and away wid 
 it all in a minit — back to the water. Ough ! small 
 loss !' 
 
 ' But, Larry, it would have made an excellent 
 dinner.' 
 
 ' Sure I'm afther telling y'er ladyship that we had 
 a rale mate dinner by good luck, yesterday.' 
 
 ' But to-day, by your own confession, you had 
 nothing.' 
 
 ' Sure you've just given me sivpence.' 
 ' But suppose I had not !' 
 ' Where's the good of thinking of that, now :' 
 ' Oh, Larry, I'm afraid you never think of to- 
 morrow.' 
 
 ' There's not a man in the whole parish of Ban- 
 now thinks more of it nor I do,' responded Larry, 
 raising himself up ; ' and to prove it to ye, madam, 
 dear, we'll have a wet night — I see the sign of it, 
 for all the sun's so bright, both in the air and the 
 water.' 
 
 ' Then, Larry, take my advice ; go home and 
 mend the great hole that is in the thatch of your 
 cabin.' 
 
 ' Is it the hole ? — where's the good of losing time 
 about it now, when the weather's so fine ?' 
 ' But when the rain comes ?' • 
 
 ' Lord bless ye, my lady ! sure I can't hinder the 
 rain ? — and sure it's fitter forme to stand under the 
 roof in a dry spot, than to go out in the teams to 
 stop up a taste of a hole. Sorra a drop comes through 
 it in dry weather.' 
 
 ' Larry you truly need not waste so much time ; 
 it is ten chances to one if you get a single fare to- 
 day ; and here you stay doing nothing. You might 
 usefully employ yourself by a little foresight.' 
 
 ' Would ye have me desert my trust ? Sure I must 
 mind the boat. But, God bless ye, mu'am darlint ! 
 don't be so hard intirely upon me ; for I get a dale 
 o' blame I don't by no manner of means dcsarve. 
 My « ife turns at me as wicked as a weasel, because 
 I gave my consint to our Nancy's marrying Matty 
 
 Quough i and she says they were bad to come to- 
 gether on account they hadn't enough to pay the 
 priest ; and the upshot of the matter is, that the girl 
 and a granchild is come back upon us ; and the hus- 
 band is off— God knows where.' 
 
 ' I'm sorry to hear that, Larry ; but your son 
 James, by this time must be able to assist you.' 
 
 ' There it is again, my lady ! James was never 
 very bright — and his mother was always at him, 
 plaguing his life out to go to Mister Ben's school, 
 and saying a dale about the time to come ; but I 
 didn't care to bother thecratur; and I'm sorry to 
 say he has turned out rather obstinate — and even 
 the priest says it's because I never think of to-mor- 
 row !' 
 
 ' I am glad to find the priest is of my opinion ; 
 but tell me, have you fatted the pig Mr. Herriot 
 gave you r' 
 
 ' Oh ! my bitter curse (axing y'er pardon my lady) 
 be upon all the pigs in and out of Ireland ! That 
 pig has been the ruin of me ; it has such a taste for 
 ating young ducks as never was in the world ; and 
 I always tethers him by the leg when I'm going out ; 
 but he's so 'cute now he cuts the tether.' 
 
 • But why not confine him in a sty ? — you are 
 close to the quarry, and could build him a sty in 
 half an hour ?' 
 
 ' Is it a sty for the likes of him ! — cock him up in 
 sty ! Och, Musha ! Musha ! the tether keeps him 
 asy for the day.' 
 
 ' But not for the morrow, Larry.' 
 
 ' Now y'er at me again ! — you that always stood 
 my friend. Meal-a-murder ! there's Rashleigh Jones 
 making signs for the boat ! Oh ! y'er in a hurry, 
 are ye ? — wcU, ye must wait till y'er hurry is over ; 
 I'm not going to hurry myself, wid whiskey in my 
 bottle, and sixpence in my pocket, for priest or min- 
 ister.' 
 
 ' But the more you earn the better, Larry.' 
 
 ' Sure I've enough for to-day.' 
 
 ' But not for to-morrow, Larry.' 
 
 'True for ye, ma'am dear ; though people takes a 
 dale of trouble, I'm thinking, when they've full and 
 plenty at the same time ; and I don't like bothering 
 about it then, and it will be all the same in a hun- 
 dred years. Sure I see ye plain enough Mr. Rash- 
 leigh. God help me ! I broke the oar yesterday, 
 never thought to get it mended ; and my head's 
 splitting open with the pain — I took a drop too 
 much last night, and that makes me fit for noth- 
 ing — ' 
 
 ' On the morrow, Larry.' 
 
 ' Faith ! ma'am dear, you're too bad. Oh, dear ! 
 If I had the sense to set the lobster pots last night, 
 what a power I'd ha' caught I — they're dancing the 
 hays merrily down there, the cowardly blackguards ! 
 but I didn't think — ' 
 
 ' On the morrow, Larry.' 
 
 ' Oh, then, let me alone, lady, dear ! What will 
 I do wid the oar ! Jim Conner gave me a beautiful 
 piece of strong rope yesterday, but I didu't want it, 
 and — i believe one of the childer got hold of it— I 
 didn't think — ' 
 
 ' On the morrow, Larry. 
 
 ' By dad, I have it ! — I can poke the coble on with 
 this ould pitchfork ; there's not much good in it ; 
 but never heed — it's the maslher's, and he's too 
 much the jontleman to mind trifles ; though I'm 
 thinking times a'n't as good wid him now as they 
 used to be ; for Barney Clarey tould Nelly Pamell, 
 who tould Tom Lavery, who tould it out forenint 
 me and a dale more genteel men who were taking a 
 drop o' comfort at St. Patrick's, as how they bottle 
 the whiskey, and salt the mate at the big house ; 
 and if that isn't a bad sign I don't know what is : — 
 though we may thank the English housskeeper for 
 it, I'm thinking — wid her beaver bonnet and her 
 yellow silk shawl, that my wife (who knows the dif- 
 fer) says, after all, is only calico-cotton.' 
 
IRISH MISCELLAOT. 
 
 407 
 
 ' What do you mean by bottling the whiskey and 
 salting the meat, Larry f 
 
 • Now, don't be coming over us after that fashion ; 
 maybe ye don't know, indeed ? Sure the right way, 
 my lady is to have whiskey on draught ; and tlien 
 it's so refreshing, of a hot summer's day, to take a 
 hearty swig — and in winter — by the powers ! Ma'am 
 honey, let me take the liberty of advising you never 
 to desart the whiskey ; it'll always keep the could 
 out of y'er heart, and trouble from y'er eye. Sure 
 the clargy take to it, and lawyers take to it, far be- 
 fore new milk ; and his holiness the Pope — God 
 bless him ! — to say nothing of the king (who is the 
 first king of hearts we ever had) who drinks nothing 
 but Innishpwn — which, to ray taste, hasn't half the 
 fire of the rale Potteen. It's next to a deadly sin to 
 bottle whiskey in a jontleman's house ; and, as to 
 salting mate ! — sure the ancient Irish fashion — the 
 fashion of the good old times — is to kill the baste, 
 and thin hang it by the legs in a convanient place ; 
 and, to be sure, every one can take a part of what 
 they like best.' 
 
 ' But do you know that the English think of to- 
 morrow, Larry?' 
 
 ' Ay, the tame negers ! that's the way they get 
 rich, and sniff at the world, my jewil ; and they no 
 oulder in it than Henry the Second ; for sure, if 
 there had been English before his time, it'slong sor- 
 ry they'd ha' been to let Ireland alone.' 
 
 'Do you think so, indeed, Larry ?' 
 
 ' I'll prove it to ye, my la dy, if j'e'll jist wait till 
 I bring over that impudent chap, Kashleigh Jones 
 who's ever running after the day, as if he hadn't a 
 bit to eat ; — theie, d'ye see Mm ? he's dancing mad 
 — he may just as well take it asy. It's such as him 
 give people the feaver. There's that devil of a goat 
 grinning at me ; sorra a drop of milk we can get 
 from her, for she won't stand quiet for a body to 
 catch her ; and my wife's not able, and I'm not wil- 
 ling, to go capering over the cliffs. Never mind ! 
 sure whiskey is better nor mUk.' 
 
 At last Larry and his boat are off, by the assist- 
 ance of the pitchfork, and most certainly he does not 
 hurry himself ; but where is Rashleigh going to ? 
 As I live ! he has got into Mr. Durkin's pleasure- 
 boat, that has just turned the corner of the island, 
 and wUl be at this side before Larry gets to the 
 other. Larry will not easily pardon this encroach- 
 ment ; not because of the money, but because of his 
 privilege. I have heard it rumored that if Larry 
 . does not become more active he will lose his situa- 
 tion ; but I cannot believe it ; he is, when fairly on 
 the water, the most careful boatman in the county : 
 and permit me to mention, in sotto voce (I would 
 not have it repeated for the world,) that his master 
 could not possibly dismiss him on the charge of heed- 
 lessness, because he once possessed unencumbered 
 property by field and flood, wooded hills, verdant 
 vales, and pure gushing rivers. Those fair heritages 
 are, however, unfortunately, passing into the hands of 
 other proprietors ; and the hair of the generous, 
 good-natured landlord has become white, and sorrow 
 has furrowed his brow, long before sixty summers 
 have glowed upon his head. Hi's children, too, do 
 not hold that station in society to which their birth 
 entitles them ; and, latterly, he has not been so of- 
 ten on the grand jury, nor at the new member's din- 
 ners The poor love him as well as ever ; but the 
 rich have neglected, in a great degree, his always 
 hospitable board. Rats, it is said, desert a falling 
 house : have nobler ones the same propensity ? Be 
 it as it may, the parish priest told me in confidence, 
 that all the change originated in our excellent 
 friend's never thinking of to-morrow. 
 
 As a cross word begets a word that's cross, so will 
 a kind one beget its own likeness. If people only 
 knew the power they possess in being kind, how 
 much good would they not achieve for themselves, 
 and how much misery prevent for others. 
 
 A LEGEND OF FIN-MA-OOOL. 
 
 Lately taking a pedestrian excursion In the neigh- 
 bourliood of tlie wild, but romantic mountain region, 
 near Dublin; known as the Breaks of Ballynascorncy, 
 I was much struck with the singular appearance of a 
 great isolated granite rock near the road side, which 
 was evidently a monument or memorial of Pagan 
 times, and determined to discover if any tradition was 
 preserved in its neighborliood ot the oliject or period of 
 its erection. I accordingly entered an adjacent cabin, 
 in which I found a healthy and good-looking mountai- 
 neer, his wife and a half-a dozen chiklrcn seated round 
 a table, on which a little cairn or tumulus, such as you 
 describe that of New Grange to be, was piled up — not, 
 however, of stones, but right good laughing potatoes. 
 I was received with the cordial welcome which a 
 stranger is always sure of meeting in the cottages of 
 our peasantry : — the best stool was wiped for me by 
 the good woman of the house, and a pressing invitation 
 given to try the potatoes — accompanied with an ex- 
 pression of regret that they had nothing better to 
 offer — an offer too tempting to be refused. 
 
 The demolition of the pile was not a work of great 
 duration, and the gift, on my part, of a drop of the 
 native from a pocket-pistol — the companion of my 
 rambles — soon put me and my entertainers on the 
 familiar terms favourable to my purpose. 
 
 'Pray,' I commenced, 'what do they call that big 
 rock, like a house, which I passed as I came down the 
 road here?' 
 
 'Oh! be dad, sir, did you remark the big rock? that's 
 called Fin-Mac-Coole's finger-stone.' 
 
 'And why is it called sol' said I. 
 
 'Why, thin, indeed, sir, unlesss I tould you an ould 
 story, that maybe you wouldn't believe, I can't say.' 
 
 'Oh, tell it at all events.' 
 
 'Well, thin you must have heard of Fin-Mac-Cool, 
 sir — he was one of the giants in Ireland, in ould ancient 
 limes. — One day afther he had been out hunting on 
 the Curragh of Kildare, he came home to his house on 
 the Hill of Allen, in mighty low spirits, and his wife 
 axed him what was the matter? 'Why thin,' says he, 
 there's enough the matther; for there's the great giant 
 Ussheen, (Ossian,) is come over from Scotland to thry 
 my strength, and if he finds he's able to bate, me, 
 he'll murdher me intirely.' Well, at this news, sir, 
 the poor woman, his wife, looked very sorrowful — but 
 he bid her not to be cast down, for he hoped he'd out- 
 wit him and there would be no harm done. So with 
 [hat, he gother' himself up in a great huge child's 
 cradle, that was in the room, and bid the wife throw a 
 blanket over him, and to tell Ussheen, when he corned 
 in, if he axed any questions about who it was that 
 was lying there, it was one of Fin's gossoons 'and 
 now,' says he, 'mind what you're about, or its all over 
 wid me,' 'but, indeed, sir, he need'nt have said that, 
 for the women are always 'cute at a bit of roguery.' 
 This, my informant said with a good-humored glance 
 at his own wife. 
 
 'Oh, don't believe him, Sir,' says the woman laugh- 
 ing, ' he's always full of his jokes, and you'll be far 
 enough on your way to Dublin, before you meet a 
 greater rouge than himself.' 
 
 'Ow-wow, Biddy!' said the husband, 'is that the 
 character you're giving me — well, anyway as I was 
 saying to the gentleman; Fin gothered himself up in 
 the cradle, and the wife set about baking some cake 
 bread, when presently in comes Ussheen very civilly, 
 with his 'God save all here,' and axes, 'is Fin-Mac- 
 Cool at home.' 'No, in troth,' says the wife, not let- 
 ting on to know him, 'but I'm his wife, and maybe 
 I'd answer you as well; might I be bould to axe your 
 will!' says she. 
 ^Oh, says Ussheen, 'I want to see Fin himself to 
 have a ihrial of strength with him; and I've come from 
 Scotland for that same purpose, and I must wait till I 
 see him, for I'll not go back again tilll take the con- 
 sate out of him.' 
 
 'Well, with that, Sir, she invited him to sit down 
 very civilly, and tould him that Fin would be home 
 BOOn and would be very happy to show him any diver- 
 
 «ion. So down ho set by the fire, and he axed he 
 who V as she baking the fine large cakes for; 'In troth, 
 then. Sir,' says she, 'tln'y'rc for that dawshe (little), 
 crathur there anluep in the cradle.' So with ihat 
 Unshccn looks round, and sees Fin by the way of fast 
 asleep, and sure he was astonished at the size of him 
 intirely. 'Who is that mam?' says ho. 'That's tho 
 youngest of the children,' says she. 'Is it that big 
 fellow?' says he. 'Big' says she, 'in troth he's a dis- 
 grace to us,' says she, 'he'll never be half the size of 
 his father or brothers, tho crathur! Maybe you'd thry 
 one of these eakes, Sir,' says she then to Unshccn, I'm 
 sure you must be hungry afther your long walk.'— 
 'Troth I'm very agrt cable,' says he, 'to that same, I 
 thank ye.' So with that he took up the cake to ate it, 
 when behold you he gave a roar that made the house 
 ring. — 'Oh, murder, woman,' says he, 'I never ate 
 anything so hard.' And^vell he might say so. Sir; for 
 you see, the woman very cutely put a griddle into the 
 middle of it. 'Hard is itl' says she, 'why, then, I 
 don't know — the child there wonld'nt ate a taste of it 
 if it was softer.' Well, Sir, with that she pressed him 
 to take a little of the crathur to wash it down, and 
 handed him a mether that held a gallon or two of as 
 good stuff as ever was tasted — for you know in these 
 days that there was no 'Parlimint' — and in troth I 
 suppose your own that you have in the bottle, and that 
 you 'gave us a sup of — long life to you — wasn't bet- 
 ther,' 
 
 This was such a skilful 'put in' for another sup, as 
 I could'nt resist, so after again wetting his whistle, as 
 my host called it, he proceeded : — 
 
 'So, Sir, afther Ussheen took about a quart or so, 
 he handed the mether over to Fin's wife. 'Oh, by my 
 conscience. Sir, you'll not give the house a bad name 
 in that way; sure the boy in the cradle would think 
 nothing of dhrinking a gallon of it in a dhraft, so she 
 made him take another dhrink, and another, till she 
 made him purty well, I thank you. Well says she 
 then to Ussheen, 'maybe you'd like to seethe boy there 
 throw a stone, or any of the things his father does 
 be teaching him, while you're waiting.' 'Nothing in 
 life betther,' say Ussheen. So with that the womaa 
 gave Fin a shake; 'get up, alanna,' says she, 'and go 
 out and amuse the gentleman.' So, Sir, up he gets, 
 and goes out with Ussheen. 'Upon my word thi ',' 
 says Ussheen to him, 'you're a good sized boy, God 
 bless you, and I'd like to see how far you could throw 
 a stone.' 'With all the pleasure in life, Sir,' says Fin. 
 So with that he takes up the stone there beyant; Sir; 
 but that was then on the hill of Allen — and flings it 
 over here against the Sighan mountain, and there it 
 lies to this day — the mark of Fin's five fingers on it 
 when he gripped it, and it has always been known by 
 the name of Fin Mac- Cool's finger stone. Well, Sir, 
 Ussheen as you may judge, was very much surprised 
 at this; and he said, 'upon my conscience, you're a 
 a,smart chap. 'Now,' says he, "could you're father 
 throw a stone of that size much farther?' 'Is it my 
 father?' says Fin — 'by dad he'd throw it to Scotland 
 or Amerikay — it id be only like a marvel in his fin- 
 gers.' 
 
 'It would be marvellous,' I observed, 'sure enough,' 
 — 'Indeed it's thrue for you. Sir,' rejoined my host, but 
 without understanding my bad pun; 'and it sober'd 
 Ussheen completely — and the divil another question he 
 axed, but set off home as fast as he came, and the 
 divil another fut he'd ever set again in Ireland. And 
 that's the story the old people tell about Fin Mac- 
 Cool's linger stone.' 
 
 It is a pity that most people overdo either the ac- 
 tive or contemplative part of life. To be continually 
 immersed in business is the way to become forget- 
 ful of everything truly noble and liberal. To be 
 wholly engaged in study is to lose a great part of the 
 usefulness of a social nature. How much better 
 would it be if people would temper action with con- 
 templation, and use action as a relief to study. 
 
 No dust affects the eyes like gold dust, and no 
 glasses like brandy glasses. 
 
408 
 
 IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 A prudent and well disposed member of tne So- 1 ' Well,' replied the man of drab, • I haTC a little 
 ciety of Friends once gave the following friendly piece of advire to give thee, and tlint is, iievir marry 
 mdrice: — | a woman worth more than tlnm art. When I mar- 
 
 ' John,' said he, 'I hear you arc going to get mar- riod my wife, I vrus worth fifty (.-cnts, and slio was 
 lied?" worth sixty-two icnta, and wlioiiivcr any diffeicnce 
 
 ' Yts,' zeplifd John. ' I am." 
 
 ttp the odd shilling/ 
 
 ' 1 come for the saw, sir,' said an urchin. 
 
 ' Wliat saucer ?' 
 
 ' Why, the saw, sir, that you borrowed,' replied 
 
 has occurred between us sinee, she has always thrown' he urchin. 
 
 iy ii 
 
 4'h 
 
 iif. 
 
 lili'ili"ii hi-M., ! 
 
 I 1 L'AH 
 
 I ,1 
 
 i *fe.i# 
 
 .T'iif 
 
 'I borrowed no saucer.' ' Shon,' said a Dutchman, 'you may say what i •\\Tiy is it,' asked a yrenchman of a Switrer, 
 
 ' Sure you did, sir — borrowed our saw, sir.' [ you please 'bout bad neighbors; I had tc vorst 'that you Swiss always fight for money, while French 
 
 ' Be off, I never saw your saucer." neighbors as never was. Mine pigs and mine hens only fight for honor ?' 
 
 'But you did, sir — there's the saw, sir, now sir.' come home mit der ears split; and todder day two ' 1 suppose,' said the Switzer, 'that each nation 
 ' O, you want the saw !' ' of dem come home missing.' I fights for what it most lacks.' 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 409 
 
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 IRISH MISCELLANY 
 
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 should be addressed 
 
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 Boston, MasB.' 
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 or the IractiOD of a dollar. You are in time for the first 
 
 Picture. We have mailed the back numbers to the lady, 
 who will also receive our Gift Picture. 
 
 *J. B.,' Boston, Mass. The article you refer to on Mason- 
 ry, which appeared in our iss'ue of July 24th, was taken 
 from the Dublin Penny Journal. We are, therefore; not 
 responsible for its accuracy. In fact, we know nothing 
 about the 'craft,* and care lees. W^e look upon it as an un- 
 mitigated evil, (requeutly converted to the worst purposes' 
 although, doubtless, many good men are, and have been 
 members of the order. It is condemned by the Catholic 
 church for good reasons— that suflices for ua. 
 
 'A Constant Rkaber,' N.Y. Which of the rivers Lte 
 do you reler to? There are two of that name in Ireland. 
 One takes its rise in Lake Gongane-Barra. so eel ebrated in 
 verse by Callanan, runs Eatt, and falls into the harbor ot 
 Cork. The other takes its rise in the county of Kerry and 
 runs into the Bay of Tralee. 
 
 'Enquiuer,' Cincinnati, Ohio. The great battle of Clon 
 tarfwas fought on Good Friday, the 23d of April 1014. The 
 contest commenced at sunrise, and continued until late in 
 the evening, when, after one of the most desperate engage- 
 ments on record, the Northmen or Danes were totally de- 
 feated. They lost about 16,000 men including a chosen 
 band ot 1,000 Danish veterans, cased in armor from head to 
 foot. 
 
 'T. J. W.,( Quebec. The numbers you sent for have been 
 duly forwarded. There is one cent postage paid on each 
 paper, making in all, for the Miscellany and the others 
 which we paid for, about one dollar due us. 
 
 ■M. H. Bird,' Cincinnati. Let us hear from you forth- 
 with. 
 
 'J. B. of Ashton.' Much obliged for yourendeavors,but 
 the 'incident' is not suited to our pages. 
 
 'EuGE>E,' Lowell. Send us something of general inter- 
 est and we will be glad to hear from you. 
 
 IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 BOSTON, SATURDAY, AUGUST 7, 1858 
 
 'PER CALWAY.' 
 
 The wish of every lover oi Ireland is at length to be grat- 
 ified. Galway, 'the city of the tribes,' will have a regular 
 line of splendid steamers sailing from iier magniticent 1 ar- 
 bor to the shores of this republic. This is to Ireland a mat- 
 ter of deep interest; it will give an impetus to her decay- 
 ing commerce, infuse new life and energy into her industry, 
 develope her hidden resources, and confer blessings incal- 
 culable upon the entire couiitry. 
 
 Galway stands at the head of one of the finest bays in 
 the world, in which the entire shipping of America could 
 find shelter from the storms of the Atlantic, and ride out 
 the most terific gale with perfect safety. Standing as it 
 were, our next neighbor, being the first land met with on 
 the pasf-age from this country to Europe, it has long been to 
 us a matter of iurprise, that American enterprise aiid fore- 
 sight, should have neglected the superior advantages which 
 a Galway terminus would confer upon an American line 
 of steamers. But so it has been, and 3Ir. Lever, an Eng. 
 lish gentleman, will reap the advantages which thi.s coun- 
 try, in obedience to English prejudice, has looked upon 
 with indifieience if not with contempt. 
 
 The first stesmer of the line made the passage to this 
 country in a disabled condition ; in fact, as her commander 
 said, she travelled the Atlantic "upon one leg.' She has 
 been thoroughly repaired in New York, and is now on the 
 Atlantic returring to the port from whence she came, un- 
 der better and more fortunate circumstances. Her arrival 
 will be hailed with the joyful acclamations of the people of 
 Ireland. The other steamers of the line are all first class, 
 and we prophecy for the spirited owner the most biiUiant 
 
 It is in the power of the natives of Ireland here to assist 
 this entctprise to a great extent— nay, they alone can place 
 it beyond the possibility of failure. The cost of a steerage 
 passage in the Galway line, is, in dollars and cents, but a 
 little more than the coft of a pat^snge in a sailing vessel. In 
 the Irish etf umers the accommodations of steerage passcn. 
 gera are far superior to thot-e in a sailing vessel. The pas- 
 senger is provided in the former wiih his meals carefully 
 cooked, and he can sit down to a table and eat them like a 
 human being; while in the latter he must cook for himself, 
 fight his way in the 'galley,' and eat his food when and as 
 be can. The passage in the former will not exceed ten 
 days, while in tne latter, going to Europe.it will be three or 
 four weeks, and in returning of>ener six weeks. 
 
 We therefore urge our readers, who are sending for their 
 Oiends, to pay tlair passage in the Galway steamers; it 
 will, by the time the journey iscompleicd, co«l lets money 
 than by the old way, and will be quicker and »afer. 
 
 Let every letter and newspaper sent from here be marked 
 'Per Galway.' This will secure a large mail for the new 
 line, and add considerably to its profit. We can thus, even 
 the humblef't of us, help Mr. Lever in his endeavors, and 
 secure for Ireland the great benefits which aconstantand 
 speedy intercourse wiih this republic will confer. 
 
 [C?" The contributionsto our pages, of our valued corres- 
 pandent, ' Vernon,' are attracting conpiderable attention in 
 the highest walks of literature. 'The States,' the ablest and 
 most thoroughly independant paper published in the city 
 of Washington, thus notices one of the sketches of Ver- 
 non: — 
 
 ' Everybody has read the sententious and so frequently 
 quoted letters of loN.' Yet, though the name isamarked 
 one in the political literature of journalism, it is only the 
 initiated who know to whom the name of ^ the veteran and 
 sagacious correspondent ' belongs. Another correspond- 
 ent has had his eye on 'Ion.' ' Vernon,' who has been 
 writing some quaint and clever things for that excellent 
 weekly pictorial, the Irish Miscellany, of Boston, has given 
 us, in the last immber, a capital sketch of 'Ion ' and his 
 home, and ' Ion ' at home. ' Vernon ' must bean artist; 
 he sketches so suggestively. It is needless for me to endorse 
 what he says of 'Kitty,' who is as well known in our city 
 as the familiar figure of her master. 
 
 The Intelligencer, another very able paper published in 
 the City of Washington, has also called attention to the 
 productions of our friend. We congratulate our able cor- 
 respondent upon these evidences of his literary meiit. 
 
 OUR PICTURE CALLERY- 
 
 TO AGENTS AND SUBSCRIBERS. 
 
 Owing to the length of time which must of necessity be 
 occupied in the production of our Gift picture, we are re- 
 luctantly compelled to postpone its presentation for a short 
 period. 
 
 We have, also, determined to change the subject some- 
 what, and instead ot the blowing up of the siege and bag- 
 gage trains, intend to give the surprise and rout of the 
 forces of the Prince of Orange by Sarsfield, just previous to 
 the blowing up. The picture is now intlie hands of Mr. D. 
 M. Carter of New York, an artist of eminent ability, and 
 who, we are sure, will do the subject every justice, if we 
 may judge from his famous military picture of 'covering 
 the retreat at Breed's Hill.' 
 
 The size ot the picture will be seventeen inches by eleven, 
 with suitable margins, and will be a splendid subject for 
 framing. 
 
 In reply to numerous enquiries, we beg to say that every 
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 New subscriptions can commence at any time previous to 
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 earnest request of many warm friends, who think we do 
 not take the requisite steps to make the paper known as ex- 
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 Persons desirous of becoming Travelling Agents, who 
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 at our Publication Oflice, 4 Water street, Boston. 
 
 CLUBS! CLUBS!! CLUBS!!! 
 
 There itt no town or village so small, but a club of six or 
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 the land of their birth, do us the favor of getting up Clubfl, 
 Our terms will be- 
 To a club of six persons sent to one address, 910,00 
 To a club of twelve, 19.00 
 The whole of the money must invariably be eent at one 
 remittance, and in advance. 
 
 In addition to this great reduction of price, each member 
 of a Club wil! be entitled to copies of all our splendid Gift 
 Pictures. Let our friends exert themselves, and by their 
 patronage make the iliticellauy the foremost Irish journal 
 -'- this continent. 
 
 OUR NbXT NUMBER. 
 Our next number will bo issued on Monday, the 9th of 
 August. 
 
410 
 
 lUlSH MISCELLANY. 
 
 Wrltleu lor the MlHoellnny. 
 THOSE HONORED DAYS. 
 
 IIV A. (t. MALLOY. 
 
 lieniomboiYi] urotlinmj houorvd days, 
 When Erin in her own, wnsntroDR; 
 Wlieu MiKKlrvlii with tlieir Imrps did raise 
 liur Celtic liorocK' bnttlo^oiig: 
 Va»t nre tliot^u dnytt, 
 Aud MiiiHtn'18* lay8 
 Is'o more are tuDrd lo Erin's piliise; 
 For tmitorsto tlicir linrp^ now t>iug 
 Tlje victory* of a tyrant Icing. 
 
 No tmitore stained tho^e diiys of pride, 
 
 Ere Erin, vae^al trappings wore; 
 When with her Irno, she loes defied. 
 And drore them flying from herehore: 
 Her brightest day 
 Is but the ray 
 Of faded glories that now play 
 About the Island, when is seen 
 A bold attempt to raise the Green. 
 
 Enfeebled by the bigot laws, — 
 
 Yet still enough of strength remains 
 To wield the sword in thy own cause, 
 Acd burst at once the tyrant's chains: 
 'Tis thus the true 
 Will yet rescue 
 The ocean's gem, from England's claws, 
 And drive them from their native plains 
 As lirien did the nobler Danes. 
 
 The battle of the Boyne. 
 
 Written for the Miscellany. 
 WALKS AND TALKS. 
 
 UY VEK.NOX. 
 
 'As I walked by myself, 
 I talked to myself, 
 
 Aud thus myself said to me.' 
 
 One of the most intcrcstin;; branches of the Gov- 
 enunent, centering at Washington, is the Agricul- 
 tural DiWsion of the Patent Office. 
 
 To this, the sturdy farmers of every part of the 
 land look with longing, for the valuable information 
 furnished by its annual Reports, and for seeds and 
 cuttings, gathered around the globe. IIow an-xious- 
 ly will they regard the process of naturalizing these 
 foreigners — hereafter, perhaps, to return a thousand 
 fold all their care ; rising timidly, at first, in the 
 midst of the strange scene, one by one, till, far over 
 every hill and plain, extending thousands of miles, 
 they shall appear in beauty and strength, and for- 
 ever ble,s3 their new-found home ! 
 
 Nor are the lovely daughters of the country less 
 interested than the hardy sons. Their prettily writ- 
 ten requests come like snow-flakes. The desks, the 
 very floors of the Office are covered with them. For 
 these fair petitioners the seeds of new varieties of 
 flowers must be ready : only small packets it is true, 
 can be sent to each, but they contain most delicate 
 charms, slumbering now, but destined to bloom 
 brilliantly, and return smile for smile. 
 
 Applicants for this bounty of the Government are 
 numerous at all times, and especially during the 
 session of Congress. The Honorable gentlemen 
 themselves receive considerable quantities, for dis- 
 tribution among their constituents ; and then franked 
 packages, and franked bo.xes, and franked Reports, 
 are borne by every mail, in even- direction, even to 
 utmost California. Visitors at 'Washington, on busi- 
 ness or pleasure, call, are introduced, and, as far as 
 practicable, are supplied. Ladies rustle into the 
 presence of the Chief of the Division — ladies who 
 bless us with their smiles — ladies who bless others, 
 far away — all seeking flowers, and promising most 
 careful cultivation, and a report of the result. Yet 
 I must not say that these ladies, highly ornamental 
 as they are themselves, think only of ornament ; 
 but they frequently demand the useful : and superior 
 yegetables, in many a neat garden, -will tell of their 
 
 practical disposition also, and how they delight to 
 mingle the utile dulcequc. 
 
 And all the while the appointed dispenser of floral 
 beauties, rich fruits and cereals, receives the multi- 
 tudinous comers, decides for each what is adapted 
 to the climate and soil mentioned, explains whatever 
 may be required as to their nature and treatment, 
 then gives the order, which, when written, bears 
 his well-known monogram — ' d. j. ii.' 
 
 Now be seated, on chair or sofa, and, if you arc 
 lover true of nature, animate and inanimate — if your 
 mind be curious about the wonders of creation — 
 there will be no lack of entertainment and knowl- 
 edge, to be derived from the study and experience of 
 1). JAY HUoWNii, always freely, simply and modest- 
 ly communicated. Or, if he should be engaged 
 with his Report, or otherwise, look over these vol- 
 umes of the Government Naturalist, Mr. Glover. 
 Here will you find exquisitely colored representa- 
 tions of flowers, fruits, grains, and the insects inju- 
 rious to thent. What microscopic aud valuable la- 
 bor I This butterfly, for instance, how soft and gay 
 its glorious wings, and so life-like all, that one real- 
 ly apijroaches it with caution, lest it should flit 
 away ! 
 
 I notice that j'ou glance toward that luscious fruit 
 on the table : apples, pears, peaches, apricots, plums 
 and grapes. These are ' native here.' Can the world 
 produce better ? It is not surprising that you de- 
 sire to taste them : all visitors have a similar desire. 
 But, as a particular favor, you shall be welcome : 
 take your choice. 
 
 'It is stone !' 
 
 Indeed it is: or something like it: — Does not 
 Glover model finely ? 
 
 I leave you with the appropriate blessing : — 
 
 'May good digestion wait on appetite I' 
 and, though against office-rules, follow Mr Browne's, 
 messenger to the seed-room. It is at the other end 
 of the building — a square off". The written order is 
 presented, the seeds, in vari-colored papers, are sup- 
 plied, and the list is put on file. 
 
 — Where am I ? 
 
 Long tables — lines of boys 
 
 Does the Government ' keep a school ?' 
 
 These boys arc the seed-packers ; and in this room 
 they are busy, at certain seasons, from nine to three 
 o'clock, daily. They are generally the children of 
 poor widows. 
 
 In another npartn-ent men are employed measur- 
 ing the seeds, and dividing them into mailable quan- 
 tities. 
 
 But to turn from the machinery of the Division, 
 and to re- visit its engineer-in-chief, will now be my 
 more pleasant and profitable course. Mr. Browne 
 seems to have been designed by nature for the very 
 niche in which we find him. The full proportions 
 of his mind are here revealed. 
 
 New Hampshire, the State of his birth, received 
 the first fruits of his talent and industry. After a 
 short time at school, he began alone the intermina- 
 ble study of nature, and so progressed that ere long 
 his late companions in the lettered task, regarded 
 him with wonder. Still he went on, and on, till he 
 had served a regular apprenticeship, or preparation 
 by observation and actual labor, in every banch of 
 knowledge his present vocation would seem to re- 
 quire. Even at so early an age as eighteen, he was 
 in charge of the operations of an extensive dairy- 
 faim, where he was engaged daily from half-past 
 two o'clock in the morning until the closing of the 
 evening, and often till ten at night. Next, the 
 cultivation of garden-vegetables and seeds upon a 
 large scale, occupied his attention; then books 
 again; and teaching; varied by brief excursions at 
 intervals in several of the Atlantic States, with a 
 view of learning some of their natural features, in- 
 ternal improvements, and farm operations. Subse- 
 quently, in Boston, he edited a monthly publica- 
 
 tion called 'The Naturalist,' which embraced many 
 of his own compositions; at the same time pursu- 
 ing the study of the Romanic languages under Pro- 
 fessor Bachi, of Harvard University, and compara- 
 tive anatomy under the distinguished Boctors Spurz- 
 heim and Warren. 
 
 A cruise, as naturalist, in the United Slates' Ship, 
 Vandulia, in the West Indies, followed; then a resi- 
 dence on the cofl'ee and sugar plantations of Cuba, 
 where ho carefully studied their economy and manage- 
 ment. His 'Letters from the Canary Islands' give, 
 among other interesting suhjects, a detailed account of 
 his ascent of the Peak ofTenerill'c. In this volumo 
 the scientific reader will find satisfactory information, 
 and the romantic enough to lu re him on from page to 
 paye. 
 
 I must condense the incidents of his active and event- 
 ful life; indeed, must altogether omit even the mention 
 of many circumstances, now become of national im- 
 portance. 
 
 After various voyages, and surveys of lands and 
 soundings of rivers; after engaging in the laboratory of 
 Dr. Jackson, in Boston; alter his employment by the 
 State of New York as resident engineer on the western 
 division of the. Erie Canal enlargement; after editing 
 the American Agriculturisf; and after other pursuits — 
 besides the preparation and publication of his books on 
 Agriculture, which are still among the highest author- 
 ities of the land. — Mr. Brown was ])laced in charge of 
 the Agricultural Division of the Patent Office. By this 
 Office he was twice sent to Europe, where he travelled 
 extensively, and made arrangcracnls to procure in 
 future seeds, cuttings, &c., from the most reliable 
 sources and upon the most advantageous terms. 
 
 But the writings of the subject of this sketch, his 
 private and public books, are known to the whole 
 country, and will be found in the cottage of nearly 
 every farmer. These will suffice to prove his ability. 
 Of late, the introduction into this country of the Chinese 
 Sugar Cane, has added to the fumiliaiity of his name; 
 while other introductions may soon increase it, as, 
 ow ing to his efforts, we shall probably see the delicate 
 leaves of the tea-plant flourishing in our own 'celestial 
 empire' of the South. 
 
 As may be well supposed, even from the above brief 
 history, Mr. Browne's character is one of extraordinary 
 energy and activity. He is a most laborious stndent; 
 and his only sorrow in the world seems to be that life 
 is too short for all he would perform. • While so de- 
 voted to agriculture, he is not by iiny means indill'eront 
 to other matteis, only the subject of bis thought is ever 
 eminently practical. The motto of his ambition is 
 evident to all who know him; it is 'Do Good!' 
 
 What difliculties may be conquered by perseverance 
 what beauty and value may be jiroduced by the coin- 
 bmation of learning aud labor; how wide, and green, 
 and eternal maybe the circle of influence and blessing 
 described on the earth by a true-hearted and resolute 
 man: these are shown, however faintly in the sketch 
 I now present, and suggest examples for imitation. 
 
 Written for the Miscellany. 
 
 NOTES FROM A JOURNAL. 
 
 BY I. E. F. 
 
 No. 7.— 'The City of the Violated Treaty.' 
 
 Upon awaking this morning, what was our astpn- 
 ishment to find ourselves reposing in a grave-yard ! 
 Around us on every side lay bleached bones and 
 skulls, and I had even laid my head on a skull for a 
 pillow, supposing it was a stone ! The faint streaks 
 of daylight showed us plainly that we had lain upon 
 a new made grave, and not wishing for any further 
 adventures in a grave yard, we got over the walls a 
 little faster than the night previous. This time the 
 toll-gate was no impediment, for we scaled it in a 
 twinkling, and, to our surprise, found ourselves in 
 Limerick. 
 
 The watchmen were crying out the hour, ' f-o-u-r 
 o'-c-l-o-c-k, and all'* well,' as we strolled down 
 William street, I dare say not unlike men risen 
 
IRISH MISCEI.LANV. 
 
 411 
 
 i'roin the dead, for we were pale ' even unto death,' 
 and the watchmen looked enquiringly at us as w» 
 passed them, on our way to 'Moore's Hotel,' to get 
 something wherewith to refresh the inner man, and 
 perform sunjlry ablutions on the outer nmn. At 
 noon, however, our energies were recuperated, and 
 our nerves had somewhat recovered from the shock 
 of the morningt 
 
 Limerick is a city full of associations connected 
 with Irish history. One of the iirst objects of our 
 visit was the famous 'treaty-stone,' upon which 
 Sarsheld signed the treaty of peace with the Eng- 
 lish, which was afterwards so ignominiously broken 
 by the latter. It is at present used by a woman to 
 rest her can upon while she dispenses sour milk to 
 her customers. The stone stands but a short dis- 
 tance from St. Mary's Cathedral, and is a silent 
 Jlonument of England's perfidy. 
 
 Crossing Thomond Brid ge, we were admitted 
 within the walls of St. Mary's Cathedral. Upon 
 entering its lofty aisles you feel a grand solemnity, 
 which it is impossible to shake oif, surrounded as 
 you are by the statues and ashes of centuries. The 
 statue of the Earl of Thomond is probably the old- 
 est ; it was cut in two at the time of the ' rebellion,' 
 is indeed a rufle attempt at sculpture, and contrasts 
 strongly with those later works of art to the memory 
 of soldiers who ' fought, bled, and died ' for their 
 country in the trenches of Sebastopol. There is 
 also a slab to the memory of a soldier who was in 
 the Peninsular "War, and at the burial of Sir John 
 Moore when they laid him — 
 
 'Like a warrior taking bis rest, 
 "With bis martial cloak around him.' 
 
 There is a latin inscription on one near the chan- 
 cel, with the date 1621, and another inscription reads 
 as follows : — 
 
 An honest i 
 
 DAN HAYES, 
 an and a lover of his country. 
 
 We next ascended to the top of the belfry to see 
 the bells, which are said to be the subject of Moore's 
 beautiful poem: — 
 
 'Those evening bells! those evening bells! 
 How many a tale tbeir mueic tells.' 
 
 The story of these bells is singular and interesting, 
 and is nearly as follows : — They were broU(.'ht origmal- 
 ly from Italy, where they were manufactured by a 
 young native, who grew justly proud of their produc- 
 tion; he sold them to a neighboring convent, and with 
 the profits accuring from the sale bought a handsome 
 villa, where he had the pleasure of listening to the 
 chiming of the bells from iho convent cliff in the 
 bosom of his family. After a few yeai-s, iiowever, he 
 had a reverse ol fortune; he lost his wife, children, 
 property; — everything. The convent was raised to the 
 ground, and the bells were carried away to another 
 land. He became a wanderer over Europe. His hair 
 grew grey, his heart withered, and he at last sailed for 
 Ireland. The vessel sailed up the Shannon, and 
 anchored in the Pool, a short distance from the city. 
 He hired a small boat for the purpose of landing. The 
 old cily was now before him, and he beheld the gray 
 steeple of St Mary's cathedral lifting its turrcted head 
 above the smoke and mist of the Irishtown. It was an 
 evening calm and beauiilul, reminding him of the sun- 
 ny skies of his dear, native Italy. — The days of his 
 prosperity, were before his imagination and his mind 
 wandered to his old home where from the convent did' 
 he heard the hells summon the people to vespers. — 
 Suddenly, amid the general siillueas, ihc Cathedral 
 tolled, and the rowers rtstcd on their oars, to listen to 
 their sweet music. The Iialian sat in the stern of the 
 boat, calmly gazing at the lower; with his arms folded 
 on his breait. The boat soon touched the quay, and 
 upon speaking to the Italian, they received no answer; 
 he was dead I The bells he was once so proud ot 
 tolled his rfqniem. 
 
 This church is now Episcopal, but it was at one 
 time Catholic- 
 
 Lca\'ing St. Mary's, we paid a visit to Gairyowen, 
 
 so celebrated for the patrioti.sm of its inliabitants, 
 and saw the spot on which the women of Limeiick 
 stood at the time of the siege, and rained sucli a 
 storm of stones, bottles, &c., upon the Engli.sh, as 
 obliged thpm to retire. Hurrah for the women of 
 16901 
 
 Passing through Mary street, we dropped 
 awhile at the Exchange, and here saw a picture of 
 the first Mayor of Limerick, of whose election a 
 good story is told. It seems that the electors tried 
 to elect one several times, but could make no choice. 
 It was finally agreed that the first person crossing 
 the bridge coming into the city in the morning, 
 should be duly installed as Mayor. A watch was 
 accordingly set, and at an early hour a half oma- 
 dhawn of a fellow, nick-named 'Shane-a-scoob' in 
 Irish, or in English 'John of the Brooms,' having 
 brooms on his back to sell, made his appearance. 
 John Tvas forthwith made Mayor, exchanging his 
 frieze coat for a crimson cloak, his caubeen for a 
 chapeau, and his honored shillelah for a staff of 
 honor. John did not go home to his 'ould woman' 
 that night, and in the morning, Judy his wife, came 
 into the city to hunt up her missing husband. Pass- 
 ing by tire E.xchange, she was not a little surprised 
 to see John in his new rig. 
 
 'Och! an' it's myself that doesn't know you in 
 that fine shoot.* 
 
 'Faith, an' that's no wondher,' answered John; 
 'for be the powers of Moll Kelly's cat, I don't know 
 myself!' 
 
 It is said, however, that John made an e.xcellent 
 Mayor, and John and Judy's descendants now rank 
 among the 'quality.' 
 
 Noticing a crowd in front of Croise's Royal Ho- 
 tel, we soon ascertained that Prince Napoleon had 
 arrived in the city, and was stopping there. The 
 enthusiasm of the people soon manifested itself in 
 cheers, tar-barrels, music, &c., but they had to be 
 content with a view of him through the window. 
 He is said to resemble his deceased uncle. Napoleon 
 Bonaparte, and certainly he does not look unlike 
 the pictures of the 'Little Corporal.' I suppose he 
 knows that, for he walks with 'solemn steps and 
 slow,' and one hand behind his back, and the other 
 in his breast. He appears to be about 40, is inclin- 
 ed to corpulency, and dressed in a plain suit of 
 black, wearing a white hat. The band commenced 
 with 'Patrick's Day,' (of course,) and finished with 
 'Partant pour la Syrie.' His yacht, the 'La Heine 
 Hortense,' is down the harbor, and will convey 
 him to Galway to-morrow. There was much en- 
 thusiasm manifested, and it was midnight ere the 
 band left him to sleep in peace in the 'city of the 
 siege.' 
 
 CORRESPONDENCE. 
 
 DoBLiN, May 28, 185^-1. 
 My dear Miscellany: — 
 
 An illness of three weeks has prevented me from 
 discharging my weekly duty of furnishing you with 
 such matters of interest as occur in this country; 
 but I am glad to inform you that a three weeks' 
 residence in Clontarf, and a delightful tour of two 
 weeks' duration in the country, has completely re- 
 stored my strength, and enables me to enjoy the 
 pleasure of again addressing the readers of your 
 eminently national journal. 
 
 The matter most occupying pubUc attention, is 
 the case of the brothers Cormack. In one of my 
 former letters to you, I alluded to this matter and 
 ventured the opinion, that two young men who had 
 been well brought up and carefully instructed in 
 the principiles of their religion, could not die, after 
 partaking of the solemn and holy rites which the 
 church in such cases prescribes, with a lie upon 
 their lips. Therefore, seeing that, they protested 
 their innocence to the last, in the presence of the 
 holy priests who attended upon them ia their last 
 
 moments and in the presence of the assembled mul- 
 titudes, I could not believe in the guilt of such 
 men and so informed your readers. The result has 
 shown that I was right and proves the experience 
 of the past that no Catholic can die a hypocrite. 
 
 The brothers Cormack were charged with the 
 murder of a Mr. Elliss, a hard landlord and an im- 
 moral man, and were tried at Nenagh in Tipperary, 
 for the alleged oS'ence. The chief witness against 
 these unfortunate brothers was a fellow named 
 Burke, who swore most positively that the Cor- 
 macks were the murderers. This Burke was driv- 
 ing Mr. Elliss home at the time the deed was per- 
 petrated, and admitted that he drove him out of the 
 usual road, through an unfrequented by road, where 
 the car was stopped by a lot of brush placed in the 
 road, and where, he said, Mr. Elliss was shot by the 
 C'ormacks. Upon the evidence of such a vilUan, 
 himself a party to the crime, according to his own 
 showipg, the first jury refused to convict, but our 
 'Cawtholic' Attorney General Fitzgerald, must 
 have blood. He caused a fresh jury to be empan- 
 elled, taking care that it was composed of more 
 pliant tools than the first; before this jury he forced 
 on the case and obtained a verdict of guilty. We 
 may lift our hands with pious horror at the whole- 
 sale perjury of Burke, himself doubtless, the mur- 
 derer, but what shall be said of his associates in 
 the bloody deed — Fitzgerald and the jurors who 
 found them guilty upon such evidence. While the 
 name of Burke is cursed and execrated by the uni- 
 versal people of Ireland, let that ot the Whig 'Caw- 
 tholic' Attorney General Fitzgerald, be hissed into 
 perpetual infamy, and forever classed with that of 
 Burke. In the usual order of things we must soon 
 have a general election in this country, and I hope 
 if Fitzgerald has the temerity to offer himself as a 
 candidate for Parli.iraent to any Irish constituency, 
 that the blood of the Cormacks' whom he assisted 
 in murdering, will be required at his hands. 
 
 Considerable efforts are being made to screen 
 Burke and Fitzgerald, and .prevent the truth, with 
 all its attendant horrors from b eing made manifest- 
 but the press is doing its duty, and the judicial 
 murderers will be brought to the bar of public 
 opinion, if not to that of justice. The Nation is 
 pouring out its condemnation upon the perpetra- 
 tors of the foul deed, with that massive vigor and 
 eloquence which characterized its pages in days 
 'lang syne." The blood of the brothers Cormacic, 
 cries to heaven for vengeance. 
 
 You will recollect my predictions concerning the 
 war in India. Has not everything come out precisely 
 as I said it would; My information from the seat of 
 war is of the most reliable kind, and yonr readers may 
 depend upon its accuracy. The war is not yet ended. 
 It will take millions of treasure and rivers of blood 
 before the contest is terminated. The 'audacity of the 
 Sepoys,' as a military (iiend wiiting to me from India 
 terms it, is truly ast)nishing. It was but the other 
 day that they made a dash— a mere handful of them— 
 at the head quarters of the Commander-in-chief, Sir 
 Colin Campbell, and nearly captured the veterean Celt 
 himself So long as England could maintain a large 
 army in the ticdd and act in large bodies against the 
 Sepoys, the victory was sure to be with her. Her 
 army has had so many victories that a few more willl 
 jjrove her ruin! Thus, she r.as captured place after 
 place and has now to garrison them, the consequence is 
 her forces are divided, weakened, and are as>ailcd in 
 return by the gallant army of Hindoo Patriots who are 
 lighting for freedom and native land. 
 
 The contest is becoming imminent. England has 
 boasted that the elements arc her alius, hut in India 
 the elements are her greatest enemy. The Engli.shmen 
 are withering before the scorching rays of an Indian 
 sun, and drop dead upon the march to become food for 
 the beasts of prey following in tlie track of the army 
 It is an indi-putahle fact, tliat our own countrymen 
 endure ihe fatigues of the campaign and the rigors of' 
 the summer climate better tlian any others in the Brit- 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 ish army. Would to Ood that no child of Inisfail was 
 enlisted under the blood stained banner of St. GeorKC. 
 The empire in India, aye and in Ireland too, would 
 soon criimblo in the dust. 
 
 More native regiments will ha\-o to bo disbanded. 
 Tliey are beeoming danRcrous and a close eye has to 
 be kept upon the Sikhs. It is a fart that En[;lands 
 power in India depends upon the lulolity of native 
 soldiers. Ut these revolt, and the Governor General 
 of India mav pack up his traps and return to England. 
 I now tell you that they will revolt, and the brave 
 Sikhs will yet join thoir fellow countrymen in driving 
 out the foreign despoiler of iheir native plains. 
 
 You arc aware, doubtless, that the begging box is 
 being handed round this country in behalf of the family 
 ofJobnO'Connell Is it not a pitiable sight to sec 
 the family of a man who when living could keep his 
 Yacht, sport the unifonn of a British Militia Captiiin, 
 sit in parliament and die in a snug government birth, 
 thus become mendicants and bcrgarsi Talk of. Irish 
 pride! Iri>h mendacity and meaness will hereafter be 
 out characteristic. 
 
 The weather is charming. The country is blooming 
 with the choicest gifts of God and the harvest will be 
 munilicicnt. If thi- land was ours, unpolluted with 
 the foot of a stranger it would indeed be a land of 
 milk and honey, a land worth living for and worth 
 dying for. 
 
 New York, July 24, 1S58. 
 The steamship Indian Empire left her berth at pier 
 No. 45.Norih River, at half-p.ist four o'clock yesterday 
 on her return to Galwny, currying some 500 tons of 
 cargo, twenty one cabin and ninety-five steerage pa.s- 
 sengers. The scene at the time of departure was of 
 the most exciting character, thousands of spectators 
 crowding every available space, waiting to see the 
 noble ship start on her return voyage, and bidding her 
 a hearty God speed. 
 
 Capt. Smith of the Nappcr Tandy light Artillery, 
 with a detachment of his command, marched down to 
 the pier, haxing with them one of their guns. As 
 soon as the hawser was cast oft", the noble ship moved 
 majestically out of the dock amid the loudest acclama- 
 tions of the assembUd multitude. Pa-vsing the end of 
 the pier, the customary gun was Hred from the deck of 
 the Indian Empire, which was answered with a salute 
 of thirty-three guns from the gallant Napper Tandy's. 
 She soon after lay to in the stream and getting up 
 sufficient steam ftred another gun then took her depar- 
 ture amid the good wishes and pious blessings of the 
 loving children of Ireland assembled to witness her de- 
 parture. May propitious breezes waft her to the 
 shores of green Erin of the streams, and may she open 
 up a glorious future for our beloved native land 
 
 I ought to inform you that on the Wednesday pre- 
 vious a splendid collation was given on board the 
 Indian Empire, by theowners and agents, to about 
 fifty invited guests, including representatives of every 
 class in the community. Speeches were made and 
 toasts offend by Capt. C. II. Marshall, Capt. Courte- 
 
 Pawtpcket, July 24th, 
 'Wbeni'cr wc roam whatever rculm»wc see, 
 Our hearts uutnivollcd louilly turn to thee.' 
 Coiluiu iioiiuuimuni mutant ijui truus mare currant. 
 
 Editor of Irish Miscellany : — 
 
 SiK, — I have been 'a reader' and purchaser of your [ 
 paper from the commencent — I would not miss a copy 
 of it for ten times iti price — and feel pride and plea- 
 sure in being able to congratulate you which I do most 
 cordially on the decided success which has thus far 
 attended your patriotic enterprise. The genial and 
 national spirit which has prompted you to undertake 
 the publication of a periodical so expensive, superb, 
 and unique, as the charming and exquisite little 
 Miscellany proves conclusively that the fire of Amor 
 Patria which glows in your bosom has not been 
 dimed by the cold and sordid atmosphere of Purilania 
 or to use the words of my caption, 'that your position 
 not your mind or rather heart is changed by crossing 
 the Sea;' I have had it in contemplation for years to 
 
 most important ofHtinl position in the State, with- 
 tfut a murmur of complaint from cither an organ of 
 opinion in the press or an individual citizen. By 
 mutual consent his merits were acknowledged, and 
 so the true bont man of unbending honor and ad- 
 herence to principle achieved, midst a querulous 
 community, his distinguished position. In the ful- 
 filment of the arduous duties atteddant upon his 
 office, he endangered the delicate constitution injured 
 in former struggles forthc advancement of a country 
 he loved too well — if that were possible. Lest the re- 
 ports proceeding by this mail should create unneces- 
 sary alarm in the minds of his European and Ameri- 
 can friends, I WTite from good authority to say that 
 danger though there be, there is every hope enter- 
 tained by his two physicians, Drs. Brownless and 
 Motherwell, that he will soon be restored.' 
 
 Smith O'Buxen in New Ross. — On Tuesday eve- 
 ning last, the patriotic old town of Koss was honoured 
 publish a periodical similar in design to the one you I by the presence of that high-souled martyr-patriot, 
 
 have so successfully established; but just as I had my 
 materials (which arc ample and diversified) collected 
 vour spicy little weekly burst forth from the recesses 
 of oblivion like an Irish Philomel to charm all by 
 the beauty of its plumage and its charming melody. 
 Though you have taken the inside track of me, I wish 
 you every success, and to convince you of the sincerity 
 of my words I take this occasion to tender you the use 
 of such material as I may have on hand, calculated to 
 assist you in the developement of your design. You 
 may rest itssured that your well directed efl"orts to 
 revive in our recollection the majestic grandeur the 
 legendary lore, the traits and traditions of our beloved 
 native land will be gloriously appreciated by the sons 
 and daughters of Erin on this broad continent as soon 
 as they become cognizant of the e.Klstence of your 
 thrice welcome weekly. After the love of religion, 
 there is no emotion in the Irish heart holds so promi- 
 nent a place as love of country, and way should it not? 
 Pro Deo Pro Patria; — for God and our country has 
 always been the motto of the christian Patriot. 
 
 'What virtue in the liuman heart, 
 The proudest tribute can commaud! 
 
 The purest, holiest, loi'tie-st, best. — 
 The lasting love of Fatherland.' 
 
 Yours for the ditfusion of Irish literature, Irish 
 fortitude, and genuine unmitigated 'Irishism' 
 
 TUOMAS SWEENET, 
 
 Whilome publisher of the American Celt. 
 
 Illness or C. G. Duffy. — It will be seen from the 
 following extract of a letter from the Melbourne cor- 
 respondent of the Dublin Nation, that Charles Gav- 
 an Duffy, at the time of writing was dangerously ill. 
 We hope that the honored gentleman is by this time 
 restored to health, and enabled to perform the duties 
 of the important public office which he discharges 
 with so much honor to himself, and satisfaction to 
 the Colonists; 
 ,, ,„. ,,., , . The rumor prevalent in town.for the last few days, 
 
 nav of the Indian Empire; Mr. Pliny Miles, the agent , . , t ■ i •• r- i u r 
 
 nay, oi 111-. , , , u ui „„ii „f.„, and expressed in the Legislative Councd by one of 
 
 Thomas F. Meagher, who looks remarkably well after \ . , „ < . r.t. y r- r, a- 
 
 inomasx *'„„.„ „,■ ,h» tri h XV»« whn his ministerial colleagues, that Charles Gavan Duffy 
 
 his southern tour; Mr. Roche, of the Insh Aews, who , , . j , ■ n • <•. 
 
 made an admirable speech; the Rev. Dr. Sawyer, | was labonng under an alarming illness, gave gnef to 
 Capt Comstock af the Baltic, G.ner.l Wm. Hall and ^ >»any a heart, and numerous an.x.ous visitor., have 
 others The affair was of the most agreeable kind, I repaired to his country house, Auburn Lodge, Haw- 
 , _ , ., thorn, to ascertain the truth of this sad intelligence. 
 
 and passed off pleasantly. I • .u . u • . i in 
 
 Dr. Connerv, the Coroner, editor and one of the pro-! I am pamcd to say ^^"^ •"= '" 5" dangerously ill. 
 
 but that favorable hopes are entertained of his re- 
 
 nrietors of the Vindicator, a spiriieil and well conduct 
 
 cd newspaper, is again a candidate for the office of { covery. May God in his ;<H'rcy vouchsafe this— for 
 Coroner for this city. The fierce and malignant ! no more bitter calamity could overtake us of the old 
 assaults made upon him on a late occasion, by a por- i soil than any accident occurring to him, who has 
 tion of the press of this city, should arouse every adopt- | contributed so much to smash down unmerited 
 ed <itizen and sound democrat to the necessity of ex- prejudice, and give us hope and heart, equality and 
 ertion in his behalf. He is a scholar, a gentleman, a | the rights of freedom amongst the peoples gathered 
 agood democrat, has tendered efficient services to his i together in this auriferous land. A short twelve 
 plrty and should receive their undivided support. I , months of his active and untiring energy, his frank 
 wish him every success and will work hard to secure j and manly personal demeanor and great powers in 
 k to him. I ^'^e House of Assembly, have won for him that con- 
 
 'OwEN Roe. 
 
 William Smith O'Brien. Late in the evening it was 
 whispered about that he was stopping at Shanahan's 
 Hotel, and in a short time it was ascertained that, 'the 
 news was true.' Groups of people gathered in the 
 streets, consulting on the best means of giving a fitting 
 welcome, under the circumstances, to the worthy de- 
 scendant of the hero of Clontarf. A formal and ex- 
 plicit political demonstration would have been made 
 in compliment to him, and in approbation of the prin- 
 ciples in advocacy of which he ventured bis lite and 
 all else dear to him on earth ; but it was thougnt that 
 it might be intrusive as be has declined to enter into 
 political life. However, something should be done. 
 An Irish Rebel and the town of New Ross could not 
 meet and part so coolly. In accordance with the 
 earnest desire of the people, the New Ro.ss Amateur 
 Brass Band led them to the front of the hotel, and 
 there 'blew off some national and spirit stirring mu- 
 sic. The people oliserved a tall, portly man approach 
 the door, his features firm, but something softened, and 
 his hair well silvered. Some of those prcsint said it 
 was not O'Brien, as his hair, it was said, must be 
 darker, but they were quickly answered in e.xplana- 
 tion, that the Whigs and their Gueslcr, the 'black ser- 
 pent," in Van Dieman's Land, had put a halo of grey 
 hairs on his head, by the sufferings, physical and men- 
 tal, which they made him endure for his love of the 
 poor Green Isle. An impulsive honest Irish cheer, 
 which was continued for some time, received the man 
 they had met to welcome. There stood the Irish Ri- 
 enzi, foiled, more by trading and treacherous friends of 
 Ireland, than by the power of the alien government, 
 he of whom Daniel O'Connell, in the fullness of hon- 
 est gratitude, prophetically said, after his liberation 
 from Richmond Prison, 'if I am called away from you 
 on te-morrow you have a man, in the person of Wil- 
 son Smith O'Brien, that is able to step into my shoes 
 and lead you on to victory.' Reflections like these 
 could not but raise a warm enthusiasm in the minds of 
 Ross men. Alter the cheering subsided, Jlr. O'Brien 
 addressed the people for some time, thanking them for 
 the unexpected and warm manner in which ihcy re- 
 ceived him — stated that his silent visit to Ross was for 
 no political object — paid a tribute to the uniform and 
 consistant patriotism of Ross men — reverted to the na- 
 tional position of the town, with their fine river, navi- 
 gable to their doors — and regretted to see it so thinly 
 supplied with shipping and general commerce. Thank- 
 ed the Ross men for returning his friend C. G Duffy, 
 to whom he paid a high tribute of praise for his endur- 
 ance and superior services to Ireland. During his 
 address Mr. O'Brien was repeatedly and enthusiastic- 
 ally cheered. After he had retired, the band contin- 
 ued to play for some time, and look their departure to 
 the notes of 'Cheer Boys, Cheer.' — Dublin Nation. 
 
 A tender hearted widower fainted at the funeral 
 of his third beloved. 
 
 ' What shall we do with him ■' asked a friend of his. 
 ' Let hira alone,' said a waggish bystander, ' he'll 
 sidcrate respect and faith which placed him in the | soon re-wive.' 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 413 
 
 Pension to Mns. IIooan. — We arc gratified to 
 Icnrn that Lord Derby has conferred a pension of 
 £ltlO 11 year on iho widow of John Uogan. For this 
 kind consideration his family are hirgcly indebted to 
 tlie zeal of the Earl of Eglinton, who warmly seconded 
 the exertions of Ilogan's numerous friends and admi- 
 rers, and pressed the claims of bis family on tho gov- 
 ernment. Shortly after Hogan's death a most influ- 
 ential meeting was held, and though the subscriptions 
 were not so large as had been expected, yet it is credit- 
 able to Dublin that, amongst so many other claims, 
 such a very large proportion of the fund should have 
 been contributed by the citizens. Another result of 
 the meeting was a memorial — or rather two memorials 
 — one of which, very numerously signed, was present- 
 ed to Lord Eglinton by a depuiaiion composed of 
 Lord Talbot de Malahide, Lord George Hill, the 
 Provost of Trinity College, B. L. Guinness, and 
 Charles Bianconi, Esqrs., with the secretaries, Thomas 
 O'Hagan and Dr. Wilde. This memorial was for- 
 warded by the Lord Lieutenant to the Earl of Derby, 
 accompanied with observations which, no doubt, 
 strongly influenced the determination of the govern- 
 ment. The Irish members did not fail in duty to an 
 illustrious countryman, for a second memorial, signed 
 by more than one-half of 'he representation, was also 
 presented to Lord Derby by Serjeant Deasy. The 
 effect of these joint eff'orts has been a small provision 
 for poor Hogan's numerous family. — [Freeman. 
 
 Imitation op Peakls. — At a soiree lately held at 
 St. Bartholomew's Hospital, Mr. Quekctt exhibited 
 specimens illustrating the manner in which pearls 
 were produced naturally, and the manner in which the 
 natural production might be artificially imitated. He 
 «howed that the oyster shell was first perforated from 
 without by a boring worm, and when the inner layer 
 is reached, this layer is pnslied inwards, covered with 
 lustrous coating of the shell, and at length detached. 
 The introduction of wires and other foreign bodies 
 from without, imitated the action of the borer, and the 
 body became coated or plated with the pearly laver. 
 This is doubtless important in a commercial point of 
 view. 
 
 Razobs. — The fineness of the edge of a razor is by 
 most people injured or destroyed by the use of the 
 strop, so that they never can shave with any ease or 
 comfort. The hone or razor stone ought to be kept 
 constantly moist with oil. When the lazor lias been 
 finely honed, it should never be suffered to touch any- 
 thing, but the cheapest and best razor strop ever in- 
 vented. This is not a piece of calf leather, prepared 
 with paste or emery powder, nor any other composi- 
 tion, however celebrated by patent or otherwise, to 
 roughen and hack the edge of the razor, and make it 
 about equally fit for shaving as a butcher's knife, or a 
 carpenter's hatchet. The best strop ever invented is 
 the hand, moistened with its natural oil — a stro|i 
 which will fine the edge of your razor beyond concpp- 
 tion, if you are careful to let it touch nothing else ex- 
 cept the hone. To obtain the full advantage of it, 
 however, it will be necessary not to be sparing of your 
 labour. 
 
 From the Dublin Celtic Union. 
 ANNIE O'BRIEN. 
 
 [Conclued.] 
 
 CHAPTEK IV. 
 
 'God of justice,' I sighed, 'send your spirit down 
 
 On these lords so cruel ana proud, 
 And BoHen their liearts and relax their frown. 
 
 Or else,*—! cried aloud, 
 'Vouchsafe thy strength to the peasant s hand. 
 To drive them at length from out the land.' 
 
 Davis. 
 
 ■\Ve beg, now, to introduce the reader into a mis- 
 erable roadside cabin. There is nothing to distin- 
 guish it from the very -worst of its class ; but a 
 lace bound lady's pocket handkerchief, which, small 
 
 as it is, is nearly double the size of the ■window, 
 against which it hung by way of a curtain. 
 
 ' Annie,' said a weak voice from a bed, or rather 
 a bundle of straw, in a corner of the dark, damp 
 room, 'you wouldn't guess who I was dreaming 
 of.' 
 
 ' I don't know, mother — I hope you feel better.' 
 ' A little easier, avoumeen,' said Mrs. O'Brien. 
 Then recurring to her dream again, she added, 
 ' Frank Mullally ! of all the men in the world ! — 
 Don't you remember that it was this very day two 
 years he took his lave of you.' 
 
 Poor Annie made no reply, but her eyes filled, 
 and her lips trembled, and, in spite of her efforts to 
 check it, a big tear dropped upon her emaciated 
 hand, too well she remembered it ! ' The distaste- 
 ful viUian,' exclaimed the widow, while Annie look- 
 ed bewildered at her supposing that she alluded to 
 Frank. This idea was soon removed, for her moth- 
 er continued. 
 
 ' He knew well when he threatened to turn us out 
 if I took in a son-in-law, that if we had Frank to 
 look after the farm, with the help of his friends, 
 we'd be able to clear off the arrears, and hould the 
 place under the old lace in spite of him. But he 
 only wanted to have us unprotected under his 
 thumb. If that man '11 ever have luck 'tis a quare 
 world, Annie.' 
 
 ' Don't think of him at all, mother, there's no use 
 in it.' 
 
 ' Annie, as sure as I'm a livin woman, Frank 
 Mullally will come home again.' 
 
 ' Oh, mother, don't say that — how could we bear 
 to see him ?' 
 
 And she looked round the wretched hovel, while 
 the blood mounted up to her very forehead. 
 ' Is there e'er a drop of whey, alanna ?' 
 ' No, mother, but Ju'de Doran promised to be here 
 in the evening with some milk.' 
 
 ' Poor Jude is a grateful erather — well, Annie give 
 me a drink of the wather — the blessed wather, that 
 the good God sint in plinty to the poorest of us — 
 and I'll try and get another sleep.' 
 
 And this was the widow O'Brien of the Grove — 
 the bustling, open hearted, charitable — and in no 
 slight degree, the important and ostentatious ' Mrs. 
 O'Brien,' — she whose claim to the very pinnacle of 
 rustic respectability, none dared to gainsay, for it 
 was incontrovertable ; to wit — thirty cows, and a 
 brother a priest I 
 
 And that drooping girl, kneeling upon the cold 
 clay floor — she was ' the flower oF the parish,' the 
 favorite of old and young, the queen amongst the 
 fair maidens of the green valley. To this they were 
 brought by an act of legalized robbery, wfiich could 
 be perpetrated with impunity, only in a land like 
 Ireland — ruled over by the coldblooded stranger. 
 And had they no friends ? 
 
 Their relations could be counted by the hundred. 
 But the first cousins happened not to live so near 
 them as the second ; and the second were, of course 
 not so nearly related as the first ; and, what is every 
 body's business is no body's business. Yet they 
 had one true friend : so true that if laying her head 
 on the block would have lightened their sufferings, 
 the sacrifice would gladly have been made. This 
 true friend was Annie's old nurse, Jude Doran. 
 Poor Jude's worldly wealth consisted of one old, 
 limping, hairy, white goat — the most patient and 
 persecuted animal under the sun. AVhat she lived 
 on was a mystery. For if poor Gin but looked 
 crooked at a single blade of Attorney Prattle's grass, 
 woe to her. And so well did she know this, that if 
 she chanced to stray a little way along the road, 
 munching a bramble here and there, if a step was 
 heard approaching, she would shake her old tail in 
 terror, and hobble home as fast as her three good 
 
 legs would carry her. If her mistress happened to 
 be out, and the hasp on the door, (unlike the os- 
 trich, which hides her head,) poor Gin would stick 
 her other end into a cavity in the ditch, and look 
 fearfully in the direction of the coming footsteps. 
 The poor old goat managed to live, however; and 
 her poor old mistres brought a bowl of nutritious 
 milk morning and evening .to Annie and her sick 
 mother. 
 
 I do not remember who it is has said, ' The poor 
 are the best friends of the poor.' The words are as 
 true as if He who preached the sermon on the Mount 
 had spoken them. 
 
 ***** * 
 
 ' I didn't see so fine a funeral this many a day — a 
 power of jantin' ears !' 
 
 ' 'Tis a fine responsible funeral, sure enough — but 
 that's no wonder ; wasn't she related to the strong- 
 est families in the three parishes ?' 
 
 ' But is it true, Dick, they wor in such poverty ?' 
 
 ' Why then it is thrue, Larry ; and 'tis little any 
 one thought her father's child 'id ever see a poor 
 day. I'm tould they owed on'y the one year's rint ; 
 and be all accounts they'd clear up the last farthin' 
 if they got fair play.' 
 
 ' An' where was the great frinds thin, Larry ? Be- 
 gor, if they're only good for comin* to one's berrin' 
 I'd as lief be widout'em.' 
 
 The plumed hearse stopped opposite the stile 
 leading into the churchyard. The velvet pall was 
 removed, and — oh ! mockery — an unpainted, rough 
 deal, pauper coffin was exposed to view. So it was. 
 The widow O'Brien died rather unexpectedly, and 
 her ' friends ' forgot until the last moment that the 
 family dignity should be upheld. A hearse was 
 sent for in hot haste, to the next town. The reliev- 
 ing officer had provided the coffin. The family buri- 
 al place was railed round; Mrs. O'Brien's remains 
 were to be placed next the tomb of her brother, the 
 priest. Four highly respectable men, with silver- 
 mounted whips, carried the coffin inside the railing. 
 A poor old creature, with a patched cloak, crept 
 after them. 
 
 ' Stand back, my good woman.' 
 
 Ah ! sir, — she toiled for her, she watched for her, 
 she closed bar eyes, and placed her in the pauper 
 coffin ; will you not let her drop a tear into her 
 grave ? 
 
 ' Stop,' said the highly respectable man, as the 
 first shovel full of earth was about being thrown in- 
 to the grave. 
 
 The man stopped, and was obliged to go down 
 again into the grave — the head of the coffin required 
 to me moved one inch to the left. What a blessing 
 is a useful friend ! ! 
 
 ' Stand back, my good women.' 
 Poor Jude Doran ! — she retired to a little distance, 
 to pray and to weep. The highly respectable men 
 took a pinch of snuff'. 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 'And yet it is for gold I go. 
 
 And yet it is for fame, 
 That they may deck aiiotiicr brow. 
 
 And bless another name , 
 
 Ailecn, 
 
 And bless another name. 
 
 And when with both returned again, 
 
 My native land to see, 
 I know a smile will meet me there, 
 And a hand will welcome me, 
 
 Aileen, 
 And a hand will welcome me. 
 
 Bauim. 
 
 I looked up from my book. 'Surely,' I thought, 
 'that car had stopped at the gate.' The latch was 
 raised by some familiar hand; a stranger could not 
 have found it so readily. There was a hurried step 
 
414 
 
 IRISH iMISCELLANY. 
 
 upon the pmvel, followed by n loud knock at tho door. 
 1 drew back iho bolt, and Frank Mnllally grasped mo 
 by the hand. 'Is she alive?' 'Yes, she's alive — but' — 
 •Bui bile's dyinj,' — and a pauper. O God! why did I 
 not know all ibis in time.' lie tluD); himself into a 
 oliair, and eovered his faeo with his hands. I begged 
 of liim to be calm. 
 
 'I will be calm,' said iie, resting his forehead on the 
 back of the chair, 'but tell mc all.' 'Ii is a short story 
 Frank; and unfurtunately a common one in Irebind. 
 Bad crops, and the cattle disease first — tho landlord — 
 the poorhoHse — death afterwards. Annie received her 
 mother's blessing wiih her last brciilh, and was sent tho 
 next day to the hospital in a raging fevi r,' 'And her 
 friends?' he ai>ked in a hu.sky voice. 'I won't attempt 
 to excuse them,' I replied; 'liut neither will I wrong 
 them. There are few in this country now whom ruin 
 does not ibreaien; and when people's own cares weigh 
 hcavilv upon them, they are not apt to remember the 
 cares of others. However, Annie's uncle has resolved 
 to provide for her when she gets strong enough to 
 leave the hoiipital. But I will not conceal the truth 
 from vou, Frank: 1 was talking to the docter yester- 
 day, and lie fears that a more insiduous disease than 
 the fever is preying upon her." 
 
 'And it is for this I have toiled and struggled! My 
 own gentle Annie! whom I hoped to meet in the full 
 flush of womanly beauty — and have I come hack but 
 to see you laid in the cold grave? O! Annie your j 
 heart was broken! She was murdered,' he exclaimed, 
 in a voice, and with a look that terrifii'd me. 'Do not 
 suppose,' he continued bitterly, as if he guessed what 
 was in my mind, 'do not suppose that I will touch a 
 hairof the guilty wretch's head. Sending him to an 
 untimely grave could not bring the flush of health back 
 to the cheek of Annie O'Brien. 
 
 I could not prevail on him to retire to rest; he prefer- 
 red, he said, stretching upon the sofa. But when I 
 awoke at intervals, during the night, he was still pacing 
 slowly up and down the little room. 
 
 I went with Frank's sister, Mrs. Cormack, next day 
 to the poor-house. 'While making some inquiry in the 
 clerk's office, the vicechaimian of the Board entered. 
 He had brute written in eve>y lineament of his face; 
 and his face did not belie him. He called for the re- 
 turn of deaths during the week; and pored over the list 
 with a look that a savage might have worn, while 
 counting the scalps of his enemies. 'The devil 
 WDulilii't k:ll the Irish,' he exclaimed, as he flung the 
 book upon the desk * The rations were reduced to a 
 minimum the last Board-day — and the number of 
 deaths disappointed him. lie hiid hoped there would 
 be twice as miiny. This humane gentleman was the 
 late Mrs. O'Brien's landlord. On reaching the door of 
 the convalescent ward, we heard loud voices in angry 
 altercation. 'Let the girl alone. Peg the Boar — do you 
 think she'd talk to a rip of your sort.' 
 
 'Silver tongue — mind your own business — blast' — 
 but I won't pollute my pnge with their disgusting 
 ribaldry. 
 
 CH.M'TER VI. 
 
 'I do not think where'er thou art, 
 
 Tliou hast iorgotteu me 
 And I, perhaps may soothe this heart, 
 
 lly thinking too of thee; 
 Yet there was round thee such a dawn, 
 
 Of light ne'er t<eon before, 
 As fancy never could have drawn, 
 
 And never can restore.' 
 
 Kev. Cliarles Wolfe. 
 
 It was all in vain — all that skill, and kindness, and 
 genteel care could do. The soft Apr^l days had come, 
 and the air was laden with a thousand balmy odours — 
 but in vain, Annie O'Brien was dying. The shadows 
 were lengthening; it was evening. There was some- 
 thing awe-inspiring in the dreamy stillness that reign- 
 ed in and around the house. It was only broken by 
 the ticking ot the clock, and the mufUed 'hah, hah — 
 
 hah, hah,' of the Hail from the burn; and these only 
 served to make tho silcDco more palpable. Mrs. Cor- 
 mack read the 'Litany for the dying.' The fair girl's 
 lips moved as she repeated the n^sponscs, and she look- 
 ed upwards, as if the earthly lilin had iilieudy drooped 
 from her eyes, and the spiriiuiil had become visible to 
 her. 'Raise the window.' It was raised — and now all 
 was again silent. A shadow flitted across the room; a 
 bird had lighted upon the window-sill. Scarcely had 
 their eyes turned in the direction when a dear, flute- 
 like 'cuckoo, cuckoo,' pealed through the silent room. 
 Mrs. Cormack made the sign of the cross. The inci- 
 dent was extraordinary, and taken in connection with 
 the dying girl, she fancied there was something super- 
 natural in it. The bird having uttered its 'two-fold 
 sht^t,' flew away.' 
 
 'No harm in the world, Annie.' 
 
 'Mrs. Cormack, put on my habit.' Mrs. Cormack 
 proceeded to put on the robe, worn by persons belong- 
 ing to the Society of tho Blessed Virgin; a figure 
 started up from behind the bed to assist her. You 
 here too! you poor old cripple — and you have never 
 stretched your old rinimatic bones npon a bed for the 
 last three weeks. 'Hold the crucifix, Jude.' Jude 
 Doran knelt down, holdiug the sign of salvation before 
 the fallen eyes of her worshipped darling. 'The bless- 
 ed candle!' Mrs. Cormack hurried out to light it. 
 And now the whole household knelt around the door 
 to pray. A loud wail from the faitbtul old nurse told 
 that all was over. Frank rushed out into the lawn to 
 hide his emotion. He looked up to the blue sky to try 
 if he could not see her there. 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 'They'd right the suffering Isle they loved— those exiles far 
 away.' Martin M'Dermott. 
 
 The elder blossoms had twice fallen upon Annie 
 O'Brien's grave. On my wav to the old church, I 
 passed Jude Doran's mud-built cabin; the door wiis 
 hasped on the outside; and poor old Gin — not much the 
 worse of the wear — was lying across it, evidently de- 
 termined on making the most of the straw she was 
 munching, and occasionally turning up her right eye 
 towards the silvery clouds, with a knowing look — as 
 much as to say, 'I see something like rain up there — 
 for all how sunny it is.' Gin's fellow sentinels were a 
 pair of stumpy, sooty old hens, with bundles of straw 
 tied on their hacks to keep them from 'trespassing.' I 
 met Jude herself coming out of the grave-yard. She 
 was nearly bent double with age and infirmity, and 
 her old bones were so stiff now, she was obliged to 
 carry a short stick with a crook at the end, to help her 
 to move. 'What in the world brought you here, Jude?' 
 'Miss Annie, and the poor mistress, sir,' she replied, 
 pointing in the direction of their graves; and holding 
 up her beads, to signify that she was praying for them. 
 I blessed tfle faithful creature in my heart. 'I always 
 pray for Miss Annie,' she continued, 'with her own 
 weeny little beads, though my poor ould lingers can 
 hrrdly feel the stones they're so little. She brought it 
 from the nunnery in Thurles, sir,' and Jude placed a 
 little blue glass rosary in my hand. 'Oh, sir,' she con- 
 tinued, with the garulity of her class, 'if ever there was 
 a bom angel she was one. When she'd think the pain 
 jn the back 'id be at me, without pretindiu' to anything, 
 she'd make mc stop worken, and hould a skein o' 
 thread for her— or may-be 'tis out in the garden she'd 
 sind me to watch the bees for feard they'd be swarmin.' 
 Wasn't she as beautiful as waxwork, sir.' 'She was 
 indeed, Jude — and good as she was beautiful ' 'You 
 may say that, sir. 'Tis many's thescouldin' I gave 
 her for running like a wild thing through the fields; 
 she was cracked sftcr the flowers, sir.' 
 
 'Oh! whin the hlack villains turned 'em out, and 
 when the poor mistress used be frettin' and complainin'. 
 Miss Annie 'id put her arms round her neck and tell 
 her that God ofen sends us poverty and sufferin for 
 our good; it would do your heart good to listen to her 
 She had words at will, sir, and read a power o' books 
 though she usen't to pretind to id.' 
 
 '\\ell, Jude, go home now, and hive the sugar-bot- 
 tom chair ready for me, and I'll call on my way down; 
 jou ranat tell all about '98, and how bravely your 
 brother died; and how tho rascally yeomen put the rope 
 about your neck to frighten you into discovering on 
 him.' 
 
 'Yes, sir — and how they olTered him goold and his 
 life if he'd turn informer. But the good drop was in 
 him — he had a stout heart — he died brave — he died 
 brave,' and her eyes gleamed, and her withered face 
 lighted up with enthusiasm. 
 
 'But it is true, sir, that Frank Mullally joined the 
 army?" 
 
 'Well it is true, Jude.' 'Mavrone! 'tis little I 
 thought he'd ever bo a red coat.' 'But his coat is not 
 red, Jude.' 'Eh?' she exclaimed quickly, they're not 
 Sasenachs out there? May by they're like the French?' 
 'E.xactly, Jude — Frank is an oflicer in the Irish Ameri- 
 can army.' 
 
 Judo whirled her crutch, and bobbed ofl^hnmming a 
 line of an old '98 ballad: — 
 
 'And we'll plant the tree of liberty on the topof iSlievc- 
 iia-mou.' 
 
 I recalled Frank's last words to me, while replying 
 to my arguments against his leaving Ireland again; 
 and while he spoke was struck with his voice and man- 
 ner, and the lines thought had traced on his face. The 
 hot youth had become a man of purpose. On the 
 contrary, a just Providence would make them the in- 
 strument of breaking the chain, and humbling tho 
 oppressor. 'To that end my life shall be dedicated,' 
 said he, 'and if ever you see any signs of life in the old 
 land, and if the thought occurs to you that Frank 
 Mullally has forgotten his allegiance to her cause — go 
 stand under the elder tree in the churchyard, on the 
 hill, and you will doubt me no longer!' 
 
 I stood under the elder tree and saw what he alluded 
 to — it was this: — 
 
 Annie O'Brien. 
 Aged 20 years. 
 
 ADVERTISEMENTS. 
 
 WILLIAM K. O'BRIEN, 
 
 77 THIRD AVEKUE, NEW TOUK. 
 
 — Manufacturer of— 
 
 LOOKING-GLASS, ^PORTRAIT 
 
 AND 
 
 PICTURE FRAMES, 
 
 Wlwlcsalt and Rtlail. 
 
 Oil Paintings and Engravings framed and varnished. 
 
 Orders promptly executed, packed and shipped to any part 
 
 my22 
 
 of the country. 
 
 3m* 
 
 T. P. FOYXES & CO., 
 
 COMMERCIAL, CARD, PLAIN AND 
 
 ORNAMENTAL JOB PRINTS R S, 
 
 Ko. 40 Devonshirs Street, 
 
 Comer of Water street, (formerly Gazette Office.) 
 jyS tf 
 
 WILLIAM PEAKCE, 
 PL UMBER, 
 
 12 AND 28 CITY BXCHANOE, 
 
 DEVONSHIRE STREET 
 
 BOSTON. 
 
 P . M O K R I S , 
 
 APOTHECARY, 
 
 Corner of Federal and Purchase streets, foot of Summer 
 
 street, Boston. 
 
 STRICT personal attention paid to compounding Physi 
 cian's Prescriptions. A choicp .-eleciion of Family 
 Medicines constantly on hand. A well telectcd stock of 
 genuine imported Perfumery and Fancy Goods. Soda 
 Water with choice Syrups. A large assortment of genuine 
 Havana Segars constantly on band. apB 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 415 
 
 ADVEKTISEMEWTS. 
 
 FINE HEADY MADE CLOTHING 
 CUSTOM TAILORING. 
 
 SPRING OVEKCOATS, 
 
 BUSINESS COATS, 
 
 FKOK AND DRESS COATS, 
 
 PANTS AND VESTS, 
 Good, Sttxish, 'Well Made Gakmemts, 
 Such as men of taste nnd good judgment will wear, can at 
 all times be found at our store. 
 Our aim is to produce for our customers the best Ready 
 Made Garments at the 'lowest possible prices for 
 CASH. 
 
 Readers of this Journal are earnestly solicited to exam- 
 ine our goods before purchasing. 
 
 J W. SMITH & CO., 
 
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 myll tf 
 
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 BOSTON MUSEUM. 
 '\V. II. Smith, Stage Manager. 
 
 Open for the production of Tragidies, Comedies, Spec- 
 tacles, Farces, &c. 
 Exhibition Hall opens at6 1-2; coramciices at 7 1-2. 
 Admission 2o cents; Reserved Seats 60 cents. 
 
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 Jacob Barrow, Lessee and Manager. 
 
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 The Grand Combination every night 
 
 Doors open at 7; Performance commences at 7 1-2. 
 Dress Boxes 75 cts; Circle bo.xes 50 cts; l^arquette 60 cts; 
 )rchestra 75 cts; Upper Boxes 26 cts; Gallery 13 cts. 
 
 LBURNilAM, (formerly junior partner in the firm of 
 • BuKNHAM Brothers,) has taken the Old Stand, 58 
 & tiU Coruhill, occupied by the late firm, aud holds himself 
 in readiness to supply all orders with which he may be fa- 
 vored. 
 
 Te Antique Booke Store still Hourisheth, 
 
 Asytte dide in days of yore; 
 
 And ye Burnham still cateretll 
 
 For ye lovers of ancient lore. 
 
 al7 3t 
 
 GENERAL TICKET OFEICE 
 
 — FOR THE — 
 
 SOUTHERN AND WESTERN STATES 
 
 AND 
 
 THE CANADAS, 
 
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 SAMUEL JIASURY. 
 
 PHOTOGRAPH AND DAGUERREOTYPE 
 
 ARTIST. 
 
 289 Washington Street, 
 
 (Up one night of stairs) 
 
 Photographs tak( 
 ter, India Ink and Pastel Colors 
 the most superio 
 
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 ery size and finished in Oil, Wa- 
 Daguerreotypes taken in 
 myl 
 
 DO'ROURKE, respectfully informs his friends and the 
 • public, that he keeps constantly on hand COFFINS 
 of all sizes and kinds, at his Collin Manufactory, No. 347 
 Federal, between Beach and Kueeland Streets, Boston, 
 which he will sell as reasonable as can be bought at any oth- 
 er place in the city. 
 
 N. B. — Orders p'unctually attended to, day or night. 
 
 Residence, No. 28 South street, Boston. 
 
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 febl3 
 
 N O R T H E It N HOUSE, 
 
 NOiiTH SQUARE— boston. 
 
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 This House has rooms equal to any first class Hotel, and 
 permanent or transient Boarders can be acconinindated 
 nearly one half cheaper than at any other House in the 
 City. 
 
 In the Reading Room can be found all the morning and 
 ovenmg pajwrs, and periodicals of the day, togetlier with 
 an extensive Library, for the free and exclusi\e use ol 
 
 the BOARDKRS. 
 
 N. B. Strangers visiting Boston, can always find this 
 House a Home. 
 
 PASSENGER CERTIFICATES. 
 
 TO OLD roUNTKYMI'lN. Owen Mc Namara has 
 Passage Ccrlificates and Dralts always on liaiul and 
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 house. (Williams & Guiou) in New York. Old Countrymen 
 desiriug to send for their friends, or remit money, w 
 do well to give him a call atNo. 4GORHAM St.. opp 
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 opposite 
 
 BOSTON THEATRE. 
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 Prices of admission— Private Boxes .t6; Parquettc, Bal- 
 
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 INVENTORS and Manufacturers of the Improved Day- 
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 N. B. Call and see it in operation. 6mfl3 
 
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 METROPOLITAN AND YOUTHS' MAGAZINES. 
 
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 WILL supply Clubs, Agents, Canvassers, &c.. on the 
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 THE SOUTHERN CITIZEN, 
 
 IS published weekly at Knoxville, Tennessee, by JOHN 
 MITCHELL & WM.G. SWAN, at .•t2 per annum, or 
 SI for SIX months, payable invariabh' in advance. 
 
 Mr. Mitchell liuviu'g commenced' in the 28th number of 
 the paper, a series of Letters addressed to the Hon. Alex- 
 ander H. Stephens of Georgia, which when completed will 
 furnish an entire history of 
 
 THE IRISH TROUBLES OF 1848, 
 
 ■With their Causes and Consequences, 
 
 The Southern Citizen will be the more interesting to both 
 
 American and Ir 
 
 iMr. Jli 
 
 have its 
 and literiii 
 though hir 
 have I 111. u- 
 mc'iil ill Ihi 
 
 end 
 
 •ith 
 
 Besides tin 
 luthern Citizen \\i\ 
 if original matter ii 
 pared by him. Tli 
 iitly increasing, tin 
 1 more extended by i 
 
 THE IRISH MISCELLANY 
 
 Inducements to New Subscribers. 
 
 OUR NEW VOLUME. 
 
 The present luimbor of the Miscellany, completes the 
 first volume of our publication, and while making the an- 
 nouncement, we seize the occasion for the purpose of ten- 
 dering thanks to those of our friends who have so generous- 
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 1^* 
 
 
 ^H^iisi^iiiilgtelrS^ 
 
VOLUME 2— NUMBER 27.] 
 
 BOSTON, SATURDAY, AUGUST 14, 1858. 
 
 [PRICE FOUR CENTS 
 
 SLIGO ABBEY. 
 
 The town of 31igo lies low, and appears to be near- 
 ly surrounded by hills and mountains of a wild 
 though picturesque description. It is situated at 
 the head of an arm of the sea, and is distant about 
 five miles from the Atlantic. The houses, with few 
 exceptions, are indifferent, and the streets irregular. 
 It is divided by the river Garrogue, over which are 
 two bridges. The harbor does not allow vessels of 
 greater burden than about two hundred tons to come 
 up to the quays, where there is a commodious cus- 
 tom house. Considerable business is carried on 
 here in the exportation of provisions, and the im- 
 port of flax-seed, timber, &c. 
 
 The Abbey is an object well deser%'ing of the no- 
 tice of the antiquary, originally erected, according 
 to Ware, by Maurice Fitzgerald, Lord Justice, about 
 the year 1252. In 1414 it was destroyed by fire, but 
 Tery shortly afterwards re-erected in the present 
 style of architecture. It is a picturesque ruin of 
 very large dimensions, divided into several apart- 
 ments. The first has a beautiful window of carved 
 
 stone, under which is ths altar, likewise of cut stone. 
 Here are two ancient monuments — one bearing date 
 1616, and the other belonging to one of the O'Con- 
 nor kings ; the latter is in good preservation, the 
 figures and inscriptions being very legible ; at the 
 top is represented our Saviour on the cross, and be- 
 low this, in separate compartments, are the figures 
 of O'Connor and his wife, kneeling, their hands lift- 
 ed up in the act of supplication. The steeple or 
 dome is still entire, supported upon a carved arch 
 or cupola, the inside of which is also carved ; adjoin- 
 ing this are three sides of a square of beautifully 
 carved little arches, of about four feet in height, 
 which seem to have anciently separated from each 
 other, and probably formed cells for confession and 
 penance. Almost all the little pillars are different- 
 ly ornamented, and one in particular is very unlike 
 the rest, having a human head cut on the inside of 
 the arch. There are several vaults throughout the 
 ruins, containing the remains of skulls, bones, and 
 coffins. The abbey and yard are still used as a bury- 
 ing place. 
 
 O'Connor Sligo was a liberal benefactor to this 
 monastery. So was Pierce O'Timony, whose statue 
 was erected in the cloister. At the general sup- 
 pression, it was granted to Sir William TaafTe. It 
 is at present in the possession of Lord Palmerston, 
 who can be styled the ' Cecil ' of England in this en- 
 lightened century. Archdall observes that Crom- 
 well has done some injury to the monastery, but 
 * that merit ' rather belongs to Ireton and Sir Charles 
 Coote, who could perceive no fault in the ' frolics ' 
 of his soldiers when transfixing Irish innocent babes 
 with their bayonets, and elevating them on their 
 points, in order that the writhings of those ' inno- 
 cents ' would afford diversion to the puritan soldiery 
 of England. The ruthless Cromwell was never in 
 Connaught. 
 
 The country around Sligo is very beautiful — high- 
 ly cultivated fields and bright green pasturage, wild, 
 picturesque mountains and luxurious planting — 
 mighty ocean and lovely lake-^all that is wanting to 
 form scenery over which the eye wanders with in- 
 tense delight. 
 
 SLI'lO AliliEY 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 THE FAIRV WOMAN OF BALRATH. 
 
 A TALK FOfXDEU ON FACT. 
 
 Thf niidiiiglit tifjull — tbu moonllgtit cbarm — 
 Tht'ne wurt- her woupouB. guiul uiul ill. 
 
 It is truly lamentublo to behold what a firm foot- 
 ing old superstitions und ubsurd customs have ob- 
 tained ill the minds of our Irish peasantry. There 
 is not an ill which happens to them, but is ascribed 
 to some evil influence in which invisible or mystical 
 agents are concerned. Notan accident occurs cither 
 to their persons or properties, but has for its direc- 
 tor some spiteful fairy or malignant witch, and in- 
 stead of applying the proper remedies to an injury 
 } or a disease, they have recourse to counter charms 
 Si and incantations to circumvent the spells of their 
 magical or invisible enemy. In such eases, the 
 general result, as may be expected, will be loss and 
 misery, and as the passions of human nature are 
 enlisted in support of their wicked and superstitious 
 practices, more desperate consequences often follow. 
 Every district has its witch, fairy-mun, fortune- 
 teller, or prophet, and in parts every village is .sup- 
 plied with its own wise n^aJl, or knowing woman, 
 and in these ignorant, though cunning wrdtches, 
 the most implicit faith is placed by the misguided 
 and deluded people. 
 
 I remember one old beldame who was the tenor 
 of my boyhood, and who possessed the most horri- 
 ble character that ever fell to the lot of huiaan being 
 to be burdened with. It was said that when slie 
 was young, she caused the death of a false lover by 
 some horrible process. She was accused of depriv- 
 ing several farmers of their butter, and of causing 
 their cows to run dry. The poor man's pigs could 
 not be troubled with the measles, or his children 
 with the mumps, but Madge Moran was the author 
 of the affliction. His heifers could not be seized 
 with the black leg, or his wife with the weed, but 
 'the ugly ould witch, bad scran to her,' was always 
 venting her spite and malice on him, and a present 
 of plopitiation was usually made to render her more 
 friendly in future. Xo misfortune, either natural 
 or accidental, that befel the young or the old, but 
 was laid at her door ; still she was respected from 
 her dread — her wants supplied, and her comforts 
 attended to from very fear — she was hated, feared, 
 shimned, obeyed, dreaded, sought after and consult- 
 ed — all but despised or loved — the prophetess, phy- 
 sician and magician of Balrath. She was old and 
 small in stature, but invariably appeared dressed in 
 a clean white cap, and short red cloak. Her hair 
 was white, carefully and smoothly turned back on 
 all sides, forming what was^callcd a Tate, leaving 
 the wrinkled forehead completely bare, and exhibit- 
 ing with singidar effect her thin shrivelled counte- 
 nance. There was a spiteful expression about the 
 puckered mouth and peaked chin, and a designing 
 glance from the bleared eye, well calculated to im- 
 press the ignorant with a repulsed feeling. 
 
 Our village of Balrath was a sweet, quiet spot. 
 The road sweeping round the base of a wooded hill, 
 and plunging into the gorge of a tangled glen, was 
 lost in the deep shade of the trees, among which you 
 could distinguish the sound of a stream as it strug- 
 gled to force its way to the still smooth lake below. 
 On a barren, moory spot beside the lake, at the 
 skirts of the village, resided Madge Moran. 
 
 Even in a secluded rural village, you will meet 
 with almost all the characters, and in all their va- 
 riety of shade and mingling, to be found in the 
 wide and crowded city. The rake, the profligate, 
 the fool, the knave, the worthless and the abandon- 
 ed, and perhaps the good and the honest man. 
 Terence Magrath, the only son of a respectable far- 
 mer, reserved for himself the character of the rake. 
 The favorite of indulgent parents, he was allowed 
 at an early age to follow the bent of his own incli- 
 nations. Supplied with the little means which they 
 could £ifford for his amusement or gratification, he 
 
 was enabled to pursue the path of his passions with- 
 out interruption or hindrance. A youi)g man al- 
 lowed to run the round of folly und extravagance, 
 taking counsel alone for his high colored fancies 
 and passions, is a melancholy object. A young 
 tree may be permitted to spread its branches high 
 and wide in green and wild luxuriance, buf it must 
 undergo the cultivating hand of the pruner to make 
 it bear beautiful blossoms, or yield a profitable re- 
 turn of wholesome fruit. Terence was a laughing, 
 careless, good-natured, frolicsome young fellow; 
 on Sundays and holy days he was to be seen at the 
 dance in the village, the blythest of the thoughtless 
 throng. lie was seldom guilty of a malicious or 
 ill-natured wickedness, but ready to run first into 
 any thoughtless freak, and consulting but his own 
 pleasure and amusenu'iit for the moment. He was 
 early led into riot and dissipation, and still though 
 a 'devil may earc,' he was generally beloved. He 
 was also a special favorite with the fair — the most 
 lively and agreeable companion, the best dancer, 
 and the handsomest young man within miles, and 
 then so ofi'-handed, liberal and pleasant. 
 
 Terence Magrath could not be supposed to exist 
 without being in love. Love is the life, and inmost 
 soul of an Irishman ; his day-di-eam and his bliss, 
 his happiness and perfection. Terence, therefore, 
 selected for his heart's idol the daughter of a 
 neighboring farmer, who, though not so wealthy 
 in the estimation of his neighbors as the parents of 
 Terence, was yet comfortable and independent. 
 She was very young, innocent and engaging ; and 
 it would be paying a bad compliment to the taste 
 of Terence, if I could not say that she was hand- 
 some. She was lively, and Terence loved her deep- 
 ly and sincerely : and in return, Alice Moore loved 
 him tenderly and truly, and with all the enthusias- 
 tic devotedness of woman's young love. At first, 
 the parents of Terence did not notice their son's at- 
 tentions to the fair Alice, thinking it but the casual 
 gallantry usual among young people. As time pass- 
 ed, however, it seemed but to increase their affec- 
 tion, and their attachment became the topic of vil- 
 lage gossip ; they then took Terence severely to ac- 
 count on the subject. 'You must,!_ said his keen 
 old father, 'look a peg higher than Alice Soore, and 
 have the spirit of the Magraths in you ; what sig- 
 nifies what she could bring you to what I could 
 give you. Do you think that the careful gatherings 
 of my long life will go to make a beggar rich ? 
 No, I'd sooner see my only child a lifeless corpse 
 under me.' The obstacles thus thrown in his way 
 served but to inflame his ardent mind, so unused to 
 meet with contradiction. Private meetings in se- 
 cret places were agreed upon, and the lovers enjoy- 
 ed one another's society unknown to the world. 
 The privacy of their stolen interviews carried a fas- 
 cination into their very souls. The knowledge of 
 being obliged to enjoy in secret their deep-rooted 
 love, brought added and heightened delight, but 
 it was doomed to end in misery. One error— one 
 unguarded moment of passion and crime overwhelm- 
 ed both with calamity and unquenchable destruc- 
 tion. 
 
 The tale of shame was soon noised about with busy 
 tongue. Poor Alice Moore could not show her face 
 out of doors. The hearts of her miserable parents 
 were filled w'lth anguish and aflliction, and every 
 one pitied them for having so unfortunate a daugh- 
 ter. Terence still promised to marry her, and when 
 after dusk he could contrive to steal -to the little 
 window of her chamber, he would use all his en- 
 deavors to solace and comfort her. His parents be- 
 came more anxious than ever, and proposed that he 
 should marry a young woman who lived some miles 
 off, and who was said to possess what to them would 
 be a large fortune. It was even reported that the 
 marriage was about to take place immediately.though 
 Terence remained firm in his refusal. When poor 
 Alice heard this, she grew distracted, and what 
 
 served to conflrm her worst suspicions was, that for 
 two evenings past he had not paid his accustomed 
 visit. At last she determined to prove the skill of 
 Madgy, the fairy wonmn, and one evening after the 
 dark fell, she proceeded by a circuitous route, and 
 alone, to the lonely cabin of the witch. The door 
 was closed, but a faint stream of light c^e from 
 the window. Alice entered — the hag was seated 
 before the embers of a small turf fire, and alone. 
 She was smoking, and her face was scarcely visible 
 from the dense cloud that issued from her mouth and 
 .slowly rolled round her head. She saluted poor 
 Alice with a cackling chuckle. 
 
 ' Cha ha ! cha ha ! I knew you'd come,' said she, 
 * I was thinking you'd soon pay me a visit ; but sit 
 down, it does not answer you to stand long, sit down 
 achorra.' 
 
 ' Oh, Madgy avourneen machree !' said the heart 
 broken Alice, what'U become ov me ? Oh, asthorc 
 mavourncen, can you do anything for me at all? — 
 I'Udo anything in the world for you. I'll give you 
 anything that you ask that I have if you but help 
 me in my desolation. Oh, Terry, Terry ! little I 
 thought you'd do the like after all your oaths and 
 promises.' 
 
 ' Cha ha ! cha ha ! aye, aye,' again cackled forth 
 the old wretch, ' every one comes to me when they 
 get into misforthin ; and thin it's oh, Madgy, what 
 '11 1 do — ah Madgy won't you do this, and oh, Madgy 
 won't you do that, as if I could find remedies for 
 every bad thing they think well of doing.' 
 
 Madgy, jewel,' answered Alice with streaming 
 eyes, ' don't talk that way to me, my heart's sore 
 enough already, God knows ; and indeed I am hard- 
 ly to blame. Oh, if I took my mother's advice I 
 would'nt now be a daughter of shame to her grey 
 head. But sure I never considered that he could 
 deceive me or give me up for another afther the 
 hand and word he gave me so faithfully.' 
 
 ' Ah ! that same Terry Magrath,' said Madgy sol- 
 emnly, ' was always a jackeen since a yard made 
 him a coat. When he was a little boy he killed my 
 ducks and worried my cat, and threw stones at my 
 cocks and hens ; when he grew older he'd laugh and 
 grin and sneer at me, and ask me what were the 
 fairies doing last night, and make fine fun for him- 
 self and his companions of poor ould Madgy.' 
 
 ' Oh, God may convart and forgive him,' replied 
 Alice, ' but here's two shillings and sixpence, and 
 give me your advice and good will, and tell me what 
 is best for me to do.' 
 
 The old hag grinned with dcUght at the sight of 
 the money, and taking hei pipe from her mouth she 
 dashed the ashes from it, and laid it carefully by ; 
 she then turned the money over in her hand and de- 
 posited it in her pocket. 
 
 ' I'll tell you what, Alice Moore,' said she bright- 
 ening, ' I'll just prove your friend and settle the vil- 
 lain that desaved any honest man's child.' 
 
 ' May the holy virgin and her blessed son reward 
 you,' said the stricken young creature, eagerly catch- 
 ing at the faintest gleam of hope. 
 
 'I'll do it — I'll do it for him, for he deserves it 
 this long time, and I'm long watchinto ketch him,' 
 said the old one. 
 
 ' Oh, its the blessin of the distressed and heart 
 broken, may attend you,' fervently ejaculated Alice. 
 
 • Well, now listen, and don't tell the mother that 
 bore you, or the priest tliat christened you, what ' 
 passed betune us this night ; swear that for me,' 
 said Madge with earnestness. 
 
 ' I do — I do,' said Alice alarmedly.' 
 
 ' Swear it,' said the beldame. 
 
 ' I swear,' said Alice, ' I'll never tell it.' 
 
 ' That'll do,' she replied apparently satisfied, ' now 
 mind what I .say well. Bring me to-morrow night 
 a sheaf of clean com, bring three winnel sheets and 
 three mould candles, and as we must stay up all 
 night, maybe you'll bring something to keep the 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 sleep off us, and to comfort our hearts through the 
 night.' 
 
 ' I will, I will,' said Alice, 'is there anything 
 more that we'll want ?' 
 
 ' Yes,' said the liag, ' there is one thing more, iv 
 yiiu liave the courage to go through with it, which 
 can't he done 'ithout.' 
 
 ' I'll do anything — there's nothing in the world 
 too hard for me,' said Alice. 
 
 ' Then listen to me alanna," said Madge, in a half 
 whisper, ' you must hring a spade and go to the 
 churchyard at twelve o'clock and dig the grave !' 
 
 Alice started with horror — she comprehended the 
 full extent of JIadgo's designs, and shuddered as 
 the sensation awakened by the diabolical plan crept 
 over her body. 
 
 'Oh, no, no,' she exclaimed, 'I don't wish to see 
 Ms death. I wouldn't for the ransom of a king that 
 anything bad should come on him — oh no, Madgy, 
 I can never injure him.' 
 
 ' Well then what do you want me to do ?' said the 
 old one sulkily, 'go and see him married to another, 
 and watch them as they drive to 'the dragging home,' 
 and admire the fine clothes of the bride ; and say 
 she's handsome, and see the father of your child 
 made another's for life — while every one points to 
 you and sez, there's the woman without modesty.' 
 
 ' Oh, Madgy, you break my heart,' said the sob- 
 bing Alice, 'I couldn't survive that day — but even 
 then I couldn't hurt or harm him; try some other 
 remedy for the mother of glory !' 
 
 ' Aye, aye, fools will be fools still,' said the old 
 wretch, ' I wasn't that full of nonsense when I was 
 like you. No, no, revenge was sweet ; but no mat- 
 ter, there is only one other trialfor you now, and — ' 
 
 ' And what, avourneen ?' said the poor Alice. 
 
 ' 'Twill cost more money,' said Madge, 'nearly as 
 much more as what you gave me.' 
 
 'I don't careforthat,' said Alice, 'so you can do 
 anything to relieve me.' 
 
 'I'll do my best,' said Madge, 'send me two 
 shillings to-morrow morning, and come to me to- 
 morrow evening and I'll give you a powder which 
 you must make him drink, and then never b'lieve 
 me again if he doesn't leave the whole world for 
 your sake.' 
 
 Alice's blue eyes sparkled with joy at this declara- 
 tion, she looked her heart's warm gratitude to old 
 Madge, and the delight of her soul shone in her 
 flushed and anxious countenance. 
 
 ' Are you in airnest,' she said, ' or do you only 
 flatter ray weakness ?' 
 
 ' Ke'U quit the Queen of England for your sake,' 
 said Madge, assuringly. 
 
 'May Heaven bless you,' replied the now relieved 
 and confiding girl. 
 
 The powder was procured next evening, and a 
 private message despatched to Terence. He came 
 after dark — Alice in tears upbraided him with his 
 neglect and breach of promise, while he assured, 
 and explained, and vowed eternal truth over a^ain. 
 
 A servant girl brought in a warm posset to Alice, 
 •which she divided into two portions, taking care, 
 •while her lover looked another way, to slip the p6w- 
 der into the one designed for him. She prevailed 
 on him to drink it, with the qualification of a glass 
 of whiskey. It had no immediate cfi'ect, iind Ter- 
 ence departed in some short time after. Alice felt 
 her heart at rest, and retired to sleep with a mind 
 more at ease than it had been for some time before. 
 Terence awoke in the middle of the night from iin 
 uneasy and painful slumber. His head was reeling 
 and aching, and his senses were bewildered and ' 
 confused. He tossed about in a wild manner, and 
 spoke incoherently of Alice Moore and his father. 
 The morning came, but it brought the parents a 
 
 miserable sight — their only son a murmuring idiot 
 
 his eyes gazed with the vacant unmeaning stare of 
 a fool— and when spoken to, he answered wide and 
 ivithout a comprehension of the words uttered. 
 
 When alone he raved incessantly, and appeared to 
 sufl'cr much from pain. Physicians were sent for, 
 and remedies applied, but in vain ; they declared it 
 was no common disease, and acknowledged it was 
 beyond their skill. 
 
 Time and medicine relieved the pain, but lie was a 
 confirmed maniac, and ranted and raved ai times witli 
 all the blind fury of one in violent madness. At oth- 
 er seasons ho was dull and mopish, and silent and 
 moody ; bat at all times ho was fond of rambling, and 
 whenever he could, would break away and ramble for 
 miles through the country, and from town to town. 
 The parents beheld the wreck o*' their hojics with tear- 
 ful eyes and breaking hearts ; they blamed themselves 
 and blamed Alice; they applied to Madge, but the 
 old one told them with a sneer, 'she could not assist him, 
 nor was she willing to do it if she could.' Alice ! the 
 news fell on her like a thunder-bolt. Her expectations 
 were i rushed for ever, and she accused herself in all 
 the bitterness of despair. The health of the maniac, 
 after about tour months, appeared to decline rapidly ; 
 he grew easier, bnt as his mind settled into gloom, his 
 frame rapidly gave way. He no longTr was watched 
 so carefnlly, nor did he ramble past the little village, 
 for he seemed unable to venture on long journeys. 
 One night, however, he stole out unobserved, and pro- 
 ceeded towards the habitation of Alice Moore. There 
 was light in the house, though it was late, and he en- 
 tered. Alice was sick — the midwife in attendance, 
 and all was hurry and bustle about the house. Ter- 
 ence proceeded to the little chamber where Alice was 
 on hor bed of agony, and quietly sieatlng himself on a 
 chair, he looked an.xiously at the poor sufferer. She 
 turned and beheld him, and she shrieked with terror 
 and surprise. His wild eyes were fixed on her — in 
 his haggard and emaciated countenance tliere was a 
 strange expression of idiocy and affection. He start- 
 ed not at her shrill scream but, smiling faintly, he said : 
 'Alice, won't you come now and get married — 'tis 
 time — dress yourself, my love — see, I have brought 
 the ring;' and he produced a ring, which, it appears, 
 he had purchased before the fatal dose was adminis- 
 tered, for the special purpose of being united to Alice, 
 and had preserved it in all his madness and misery. 
 The attendants rushed in ; they were surprised to find 
 the maniac so quietly seated by her bed-side. They 
 endeavored to remove him by force, but he dashed 
 ihem aside, and again seated himself beside the bed. 
 ' Alice,' he said, 'you ought to remember your promise. 
 There'll be a iine dance to-morrow at the cross roads, 
 mind you mustn't dance with Jem Reilly. But won't 
 you marry me, after all 'i My father sez he's sorry 
 now he said anything agin us, so jou know we will 
 now be happy.' 
 
 'For heaven's sake,' said Alice, with agitation and 
 feeling, ', take him away, but don't hurt him — loax 
 him out, he'll do anything for kindness, but don't 
 speak cross to him.' 
 
 They began by promises and kind words to dra-\v 
 him away ; still'he gazed at Alice with unheeding 
 earnestness, until a sudden pain seemed to shoot 
 through his brain. He raised his hand to his brow 
 and uttered a short cry ; he remained motionless for a 
 time, yet it could bo observed that the features of his 
 face seemed moving as in agony. He withdrew his 
 hand — ' oh; God !' he exclaimed, with a deep-drawn 
 and convulsive sigh, aud slowly tottered from the 
 home. 
 
 Early next morning, as some labourers were going 
 to work, they observed a humau figure lying in a dry 
 ditch, not far from the house of Alice Moore. 'They 
 approached, and beheld, cold, still, and dead, the body 
 of Terence Magrath; at the same time the mournful 
 wail /or the dead arose on their ears, from the habita- 
 tion of the unfortunate Alice. She too had departed 
 — the shock of his appearance at such a time, was 
 more than lier exhausted frame and bursting heart 
 could bear. 
 
 Whoever is courteous, honest, frank, sincere, truly 
 honorable, generous, and candid, is a true gentleman, 
 whether rich, learned, or a labourer. 
 
 Ireund— The Irish Chabacteb.— The descrip- 
 lion given of our island by almost every writer who 
 has ever mentioned It, doc! not argue much in favour 
 of the taste displayed by our absentees. Spencer, who 
 cannot be accused of much partiality, describes it 
 thus:— 'And sure it is yet a more beautiful and sweet 
 country as any Is under heaven, being stored through- 
 out with many goodly rivers, replenished with all sorts 
 of fish abundantly, sprinkled with many sweet islands 
 and goodly lakes, like little inland seas, that will carry 
 even ships upon their waters; adorned with goodly 
 woods even fit for building homes and ships, so com- 
 modiously, as that if some princes in the world had 
 them, they would soon hope to be lord of all the seas, 
 and ere long of all the world; also full of very good 
 ports and havens opening upon England, invitinn- us 
 to come unto them to see what excellent commodities 
 that country can afford; besides the soyle it selfe most 
 fertile, fit to yield all kind of fruit that shall be com- 
 mitted thereunty. And lastly, the heavens most milde 
 and temperate, though somewhat more moist than 
 the parts towards the east.' 
 
 This descripi ion seems to warrant that higlily color- 
 ed one given by the Poet: — 
 
 'Far westward lies an isle of ancient fame 
 
 By nature blessed, and Scotia is her name ; 
 
 Eurolled ia books— exhaustless in her store • 
 
 Of veiny silver, and of golden ore; 
 
 Herfraitful soil forever teems in wealth, 
 
 Witli gems her waters— and her air witll health 
 
 Her verdant lields witll miili and lioney flow; 
 
 Her woolly fleeces vie with virgin snow; 
 
 Her waving furrows float with yellow corn; 
 
 And arms and arts her envied sons adorn. 
 
 No savage bear witlt lawless fury roves ; 
 
 No tiercer lions thro' her peaceful groves; 
 
 No poison there infects, uo scaly snake 
 
 Creeps thro' the grass, nor frogs auuoy the lake; 
 
 An island worthy of its pious race, 
 
 lu war triumphant— and unmatched in peace.' 
 
 The following portrait of the Irish character is de- 
 serving* of notice, as It is drawn by the celebrated 
 Cambden; and as in this scale their virtues will be 
 found considerably to preponderate over their vices, as 
 every body knows ; 
 
 'They are,' says he, 'of a middle stature— strong of 
 body — of an hotter and moisture nature than many 
 other nations — of wonderful soft skins — and by reason 
 of the tenderness of the muscles, they excel in nimble- 
 ness, and the flexibility of all parts of their body. 
 They are reckoned of a quick wit— prodigal of their 
 lives — enduring travail, cold, and hunger — given to 
 Hcshy lusts — light of belief— kind and courteous to 
 strangers — constant in love — Impatient of abuse and 
 injury, in enmity implacable — and in all affections 
 most vehement and passionate.' 
 
 Spencer says, 'I have heard some great warriors say, 
 that in all their services, which they had seen abroad 
 in foreign countries, they never saw a more comely 
 man than the Irishman, or that cometh more bravely 
 in his charge.' 
 
 An ignorant candidate for medical honors, having 
 thrown himself almost into a fever from his incapa- 
 bility of answer the questions, was asked by one of 
 the censors how he would sweat a patient for the 
 rheumatism ! He answered, '• I would send him 
 here to be examined." 
 
 On a child being told, the other day, that he must 
 be broken ^ a, bad hsibit, he actually replied : ' Pa, 
 hatln't I better be mended'?" 
 
 The strongest minded woman shrinks from being 
 caught in her night-cap. 
 
 " It is not proper for you to play school, ray dear, 
 to-day, for it's Sunday." " But it is Sunday-school 
 that I am playing.'' 
 
miSH MISCELLANY. 
 
 THE TENANT RICHT QUESTION. 
 
 Yes! pelf-ubasement paves the way 
 To villinn-boudi) auil dcBpot-swajr. 
 
 The deputation of the Irish iinil supposed Liberal 
 Members, including the 'Indepondent Opposition,' thnt 
 waited on the C'hanicllor of the Exdicquer, reproscpt- 
 ed to him that they htid been for some time giving 
 their ' cordial iind consistent sup|)ort' to his Rovcm- 
 mcnt; and that they expected as a retognition ol their 
 claim upon the Government that the Cabinet would 
 bring in a bill for the settlement of the question of land- 
 lord and tenant in Ireland; that they did not expect 
 any provision for unexhausted improvements; that the 
 country would be satislied with a ' very moderate' mea- 
 sure on the subject; and that they would accept as a 
 boon any measure securing fu ure or prospective im- 
 provements ! 
 
 Now, there arc three propositions that we dednce 
 from this, and about which there can be little dispute. 
 The first is, that the Independent (»pposition have 
 been heretofore acting and are now enrolled as sup- 
 porters of the Tory Governmeiu; secoiKlly. thai in so 
 doing, they have been guilty of a grave political delin- 
 quency; thirdly, that they seek, by a sacriBce of the 
 
 Tenanl Question, to socuro to themselves a show of 
 justification for the course they have pursued. Their 
 seeking for this justification, for the future, amounts to 
 an admission that thoir support heretofore of that Gov- 
 ernment is without excuse. Ehe recklessness of their 
 attempt now to secure that excuse in the extinction of 
 the Tenant Kight question, indicates very distinctly the 
 magnitude of the offence of which they have been guilty 
 We have heard of the perpetrators of some dark enor- 
 mity, who would if possible destroy the evidence of 
 their guilt by firing the edifice, the scene of their crime. 
 The ex-Indcpendent Opuosition woul(l|now super-add to 
 their daring tergiversation a stupendous act of political 
 arson. It cannot be ]irctended that for flinging the 
 fortunes of the Irish tenant at the feet of the Chancel- 
 lor of the Exchequer, they had the warrantor sanction 
 of any portion of the Irish people. Nay! they must 
 have lieen well aware that the public opinion in Ireland 
 would be mos\ averse to any such odious procteding. 
 In ISS.") the Aberdeen administration offered a bill, 
 secuiing compensation for the improvements of the 
 twenty yoars preceding. That oiler was rejected. It 
 is to be enduretl that we are now to court confiscation 
 for all the improyements by the industrious tenantry 
 of Ireland down to the present time? 
 
 _^-~ rfE*5<^ " 
 
 So far for the conduct of those eleven Irish members, 
 as regards the ((uesiion of Tenant Hight. It seems if 
 possible worse, when regarded under other aspects. 
 They, afl'ccting to represent Irish interests, tendered 
 their humble allegiance to the man that had perpetra- 
 ted the greatest financial wrong on Ireland on record; 
 the man that had selected Ireland groaning under the 
 weight of an oppressive taxation, for, of all the empire, 
 special, exclusive, and additional taxation. They, the 
 selected members for some of the most Catholic con- 
 stituencies of Catholic Ireland, appeared as lowly sup- 
 pliants at the foot-stool of the representative of an un- 
 disguiscdly Orange administration! That administra- 
 tion may cultivate kindly relations with the Catholic 
 King of Naples ; it may increase the number even of 
 Catholic chaplains in the army. General Peel, the 
 Secretary at War, may entertain and probably does 
 entertain rational views on that subject. But, we pub- 
 licly assert that the government is undisguisedly 
 Orange in Irehmd. It is t)riinge in its elements — it is 
 Orange in its antecedents — it is Orange in its appoint- 
 ments — for instance, in the recent appointment of Mr. 
 Moore, the secretary of an Orange lodge, as Crown 
 Solicitor — it is essentially Orange in its work of demo- 
 lition. 
 
 With the insniting words of the Irish Secretary 
 Lord Nass — still ringing in their ears, in pronouncing 
 the doom of the Dublin police, in proclaiming the ex- 
 tinction, by act of parliament, of the fine body of men 
 that noble lord nnhesitatingly avowed that their crime 
 was their Catholicity, that out of eleven hundred men 
 in the force, there were but 'fifty Protestants;' and 
 that tne Dublin police should therefore cease to exist. 
 With these words still ringing in their ears, these 
 eleven M.P.'s. presented themselves before Mr. Dis- 
 raeli, enumerated their claims on his gratitude, and 
 asked in return for the small boon we have above de- 
 scribed. Oh ! how the crafty ex-Jew must, in his in- 
 most sonl, have exulted at the deep humilia'ion — 
 the self-abasement of the representatives.of the Celt — 
 the countrymen ofO'Connell — thus exhibited before 
 him ! Oh ! how he must have felt, that the chain best 
 became the men that thus, in return for outrage and 
 insolt, could fawn on the oppessor! — (Wuterford 
 News. 
 
 'No More cpoy that Head.' — A fop in com- 
 pany, wanting his servant, called ont, ' Where's that 
 blockhead of mine ?' A lady present answered, ' On 
 your shoulders, sir,' 
 
 ROUND TOWER AT ROSCREA. 
 
 ROUND TOWER AT ROSCREA.' 
 
 This tower is eighty feet high, and fifteen feet in 
 diameter, with two steps round it * the bottom. At 
 fifteen feet from the bottom is a window, with a regu- 
 lar arch, and at an equal height is another window 
 with a pointed arch. If this latter is not a more recent 
 addition, which it probably is not, it certainly reduces 
 the date of this tower to the twelfth century, which is 
 rather earlier than the time allowed for the use of this 
 arch. 
 
 Anciently, a great annnal fair was held here on the 
 festival of St. Peter and St. Paul, for fourteen days. 
 The Danes, in the year 94i, formed a design to sur- 
 prise and pillage the merchants assembled here ; but 
 they were dufi-ated, with the loss of Olfinn, their com- 
 mander, and four thousand men slain. \^ hen the 
 English arrived in this isle, tbey soon extended their 
 power into Munster ; and, as they proceeded, secured 
 themselves by strong castles and garrisons. After 
 some contests with Mortogh, king of North Munster, 
 they obtained Roscrea; and in 1213, founded a strong 
 castle in it, as a barrier against the attempts of the na- 
 tives on that side. This ancient fortress is at present 
 in a good state of preservation, and no small ornament 
 to the 10^*11. as is seen in the back ground of this view. 
 
 The Press. — The Press, says Mr. Curran, is the 
 great public monitor; its duty is that of the historian 
 and the witness,, that ' Nil falsi andent, nil veri non 
 audeat dicere,' that its horizon shall be extended to the 
 farthest Tcrge of truth, that beyond that limit it shall 
 not dare to pass ; that it shall speak truth to the King, 
 in the hearing of the people, and to the people, in the 
 hearing of the King; that it shall not perplex the one 
 nor the other with a false alarm, lest it lose its charac- 
 ter for veracity, and become an unheeding warner of 
 real danger ; lest it vainly warn them against that 
 great transgression, of which the inevitable consequence 
 is death. 
 
 Emioratiok. — There is not a nobler answer record- 
 ed by Plutarch, of any of the great men of former days, 
 than that which was remarked by a Canadian chief to 
 some Europeans who wanted him to give up his patri- 
 mony. ' We were bom,' said he ' upon this spot ; our 
 fathers are buried here ; shall we then say to the bones 
 of our fathers. Rise up, and go with us to a strange 
 and ?' 
 
 I 
 
 Transported for Life — The man who marries 
 happily. 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 •TWILL BE ALL THE SAME IN A HUNDEED YEARS. 
 
 'Twill be all the samo in a hundred years ! 
 
 What a spell-word to coujure up smiles and tears! 
 
 O, how oil do I muse 'mid the tlxoughtless and gay, 
 
 On the murvellous truths these words convey, 
 
 And can it be so? Must the valiant and free 
 
 Have their tenure of life on this frail decree? 
 
 Are the trophies they've reared and the glories they've won 
 
 Only oastlea of frost-work, confroutinp the sun. 
 
 And must all that's as joyous and brilliant to view 
 
 As a midsummer dream, be as perisliing, too? 
 
 Then have pity, ye proud ones — be gentle, ye great, 
 
 O remember how mercy beseemeth your state ; 
 
 For the rust that consumeth the sword of the brave 
 
 Is eating the chain of the manacled slave. 
 
 And the conqueror's frowns and his victim's tears 
 
 VTill be all the same in a hundred years. 
 
 Twill be all the same in a hundred years? 
 
 What a spell-word to conjure up smiles and tears! 
 
 How dark are your fortunes, ye sons of the soil. 
 
 Whose heirloom is sorrow, whose birthright is toil ! 
 
 Yet envy not those who have glory and gold. 
 
 By the sweat of the poon and the blood of the bold ; 
 
 For 'tis coming, howe'ef they may flaant in their pride, 
 
 Tbe day when they'll moulder to dust by your side. 
 
 Death uuiteth the children of toil and of sloth. 
 
 And the democrat reptiles carouse upon both ; 
 
 For time, as he speeds on his viewless wings, 
 
 Disenamels and withers all earthly things ; 
 
 And the knight's white plume, and the shepherd's crook. 
 
 And the minstrel's pipe and the scholar's book. 
 
 And the emperor's crown, and his Cossacks' spears, 
 
 Will be dust alike in a hundred years ! 
 
 'Twill be all the same in a hundred years! 
 
 O most magical fountain of smiles and tears! 
 
 To think that our hopes, like the flowers of June, 
 
 Which we love so much, should be lost so soon! 
 
 Then what meaneth the chase after phantom joys? 
 
 Or the breaking of human hearts for toys? 
 
 Or the veteran's pride in his crafty schemes? 
 
 Or "the passion of youth for its darling dreams?" 
 
 Or the aiming at ends that we never can span ? 
 
 Or the deadly aversion of man for man? 
 
 What availeth it all? O, ye sages, say,— 
 
 Or the miser's joy in his briljiaut clay? 
 
 Or the lover's zeal for his matchless prize — 
 
 The enchanting maid, with the starry eyes? 
 
 Or the feverish conflict of hopes and fears, 
 
 If 'tis all the same in a hundred years.^ 
 
 Ah! 'tis not the same in a hundred years, 
 How clear soever the case appears; 
 For know ye not that beyond the grave, 
 Far, far beyond, where the cedars wave 
 On the Syrian mountains, or where the stars 
 Come glittering forth in their golden cars. 
 There bloometh a land of perennial bliss. 
 Where we smile to think of the tears in this ? 
 And the pilgrim reaching that radiant shore. 
 Has the thought of death in his heart no more. 
 But layeth his staifand sandals down, 
 For the victor's palm and the monarch's crown. 
 And the mother meets, in that tranquil sphere 
 The delightful child she had wept for here; 
 And the warriors sword that protects the right 
 Is bejewelled with stars of undying light; 
 And we quaff of the same immortal cup, 
 While the orphan smiles, and the slave looks up! 
 So be glad, my heart, and forget thy tears. 
 For 'tis not the same in a hundred years! 
 
 Capital Ponishment. — The ancient Irish always 
 regarded executions with horror, for capital punish- 
 ments were unknown to their laws. An historical fact 
 illn.strates their independence and humanity. When 
 Hugh O'Noil (who had learned the custom in England) 
 ordered Hugh Gavelock's head to be cut off, he could 
 find no executioner among his own subjects. Yet this 
 was so late as the reign of Elizabeth. 
 
 An Important Trcth.— The testimony of hu- 
 man naiure Ls superior to the asseverations of interest- 
 ed sycophancy ; and, when men who are denied the 
 privilege of their fellow-citizens, boast of their loyalty, 
 common sense is outraged, and nature contradicted. 
 
 An Oeiential Retort.— • Good news, Belhonl,* 
 said a wag at Balsora : ' the Caliph has appointed you 
 governor of all the apes and hogs in thekigdom.' 
 ' Prepare, then,' replied Belboul, ' to obey my com- 
 mands.' 
 
 [Translated from the French.] 
 ALEXANDER DUMAS'S JOURNEY. 
 
 M. Alexander Dumas, senior, left Paris the last 
 of June, by the Northern Railroad. He travels with 
 Count Gregory Kouchelef Besborodko, a gentleman 
 of the Russian Emperor's household. The illustri- 
 ous foreigner had retained a special car for him and 
 his suite. 
 
 Alexander Dumas will sojourn a month in the 
 capital of the Russian empire, and on the 19th of 
 July will assist at the marriage of M. Douglas Hume, 
 the celebrated medium, who espouses MUe. KroU, 
 sister-in-law of Count Kouchelef, and by him dow- 
 ered. Continuing in the company of his opulent 
 friend, our celebrated romancer will visit Moscow, 
 travelling by short stages and stopping at the nu- 
 merous marts. The relays of his route are marked 
 out by as many of the Count's estates, in each of 
 which he will find the magnificence of Besborodko's 
 palace, and that special orchestra always ready to 
 play for the owner's pleasure. 
 
 From Moscow he will descend to Odessa, traverse 
 the Crimea, enter Tiflis, and ascend the Caucasus, 
 greet Schamyl, and pass a night under his tent. 
 Who knows the inspirations that this romantic meet- 
 ing may furnish him ? Perhaps it will bring^orth 
 a drama, of which the Circassian chief shall be the 
 hero. 
 
 This carious and charming escapade will not last 
 more than four months, by which time the great 
 Dumas will reappear among his friends, his pocket 
 stuffed with notes and his head stuffed with souvenirs. 
 Some evil ones attribute this journey to a cause by no 
 means literary; they pretend that M. Dumas approach- 
 es the snowy North in order to whiten his skin, and 
 affirm that he will return an Albino. Whoever lives 
 will see ! On leaving his home in the Rue d'Amsterdam 
 Alexander Dumas said: ' I depart with Balsamo and 
 Monte Cristo.' ' Ah ! Mon Dieu,' his servant ex- 
 claimed, ' I have forgotten to put them in your trunk!' 
 This perhaps evinces that one may be a very intelligent 
 cook, (having received from M. Dumas himself special 
 lessons in cooking,) and yet not comprehend his fignr- 
 alive style. For M. Dumas by no means thonght to 
 carry in his clothes-hag two romances that he knows 
 by heart, and which may charm every body, himself 
 excepted. He employed a metaphor, and meant : 
 'I go with two persons, one of whom resembles Joseph 
 Balsomo, the magnetic physician and supernatural 
 man ; the other, tlie Count of Monte Cris to, the 
 powerful and opulent man, between the rich and 
 powerful.' 
 
 But as yet, cooks are not obliged to understand 
 figurative language, and M. Dumas was wrong to 
 laugh in her face. Instead of ridiculing this brave 
 girl, he might have been more humane, more paternal 
 to let her know the two personages with whom he was 
 going to travel, and give her, for instance, the tollow- 
 ing information : ' My Joseph Balsamo is Douglas 
 Hume, that mysterious man, whose existence so many 
 peeple still refuse to believe, and who is going truly 
 to be married in a month, that I have seen with my 
 eyes and touched with my hands. Monte Cristo is the 
 Count Gregory Kouchelef : yet the comparison lacks 
 exactness; and I ought to say to this Russain Lord 
 pardon me, sir, if I give to you the name of a poor 
 nabob of my invention, whose imaginary treasures were 
 not comparable to the very real ones that you possess. 
 My Croesus was in prosperity, and you arc rich.' 
 
 Count Kouchelef has, it is said, an annual income 
 of 4,0()i),0ll0f ; he never journeys without a retinue of 
 twenty-four jjcrsons. His daily expenses during his 
 sojourn at the hotel of the 'Three Emperors ' would suf- 
 fice for the maintenance of an ordinary family the vear 
 round. He owns castles, lands, villages and towns in 
 all the Russian provinces, and possesses thousands of 
 serfs. He disposes right royally of his hours nnd of 
 his budget. Let us hasten to add, that he uses very 
 nobly his immense fortune. Another in his place would 
 believe himself exempted from science and talent. 
 Uo^ wishes to be not only an intelligcDt man, but more 
 
 — a distinguished man, and doing good. A patron at 
 once generous and excellent, he supports art and en- 
 courages artists : he has always with him a painter, a 
 musician, a physician, and oven a poet. Great lords 
 formerly had also their servants, and this name did 
 not awake then the idea that it does now. The ser- 
 vant of a grandee was he who lived under his roof, had 
 his table, like a friend, unconstrained, and almost as 
 an equal. ' My cousin. La Rocheport," said the Car- 
 dinal of Retz, ' was the Prince of Conde's servant.' 
 La Rocheport was indeed of a good house, and the 
 Cardinal had very nice self-love. 
 
 Count Kouchelef is not satisfied with loving litera- 
 ture and encouraging the arts : he cultivates them him- 
 self with rare success. He has written novels, which 
 are much esteemed, under this title: 'Feuillets de 
 Voyage;' he has dedicated to his charming wife an 
 album of romances of his own composition, which 
 connoiseurs say are very good. It is he who endows 
 the betrothed of M. Hume, for without him, MUe. 
 Kroll would have much less money than beautv. He 
 is determined to establish at St. Petersburg a period- 
 ical review, similar to the 'Revue des Deux Mondes.' 
 This publication, which will probably appear soon, 
 will be named ' La Parole Rasse.' 
 
 The Countess Kouchelef is young and pretty, and 
 the peasants return in love what she bountifully 
 bestows on them. Her visit to one of her estates is 
 announced as an event, and feasted with universal 
 gladness. These brave people can be emancipated, 
 but there is no fear that they will forsake the glebe 
 whereunto such sweet claims attach them. 
 
 The jewels of the Countess Kouchelef are worth 
 more than two millions ; it is known that she is in 
 possession of the most beautiful sapphire in the world, 
 which was given to an ancestor of her husband by 
 some Eastern monarch. It is as large as an egg, and 
 the jeweller, who was charged with setting it, exclaim- 
 ed, on receiving it : ' Heavens I it any one should steal 
 it, my whole shop and those of my colleagues would 
 not he sufficient to pay the value of it.' This precious 
 stone is attached to a necklace composed of eight rows 
 of pure pearls, and at night, under the reflection of the 
 chandeliers, it throws jets of blue light, the effect of 
 which is indescribable. 
 
 How TO Keep Mind and Boey in Health. — '1 
 am always obliged to breakfast before I rise — my con- 
 stitution requires it,' drawls out some fair votary of 
 fashion. ' Unless I take a bottle of port after din- 
 ner,' cries the pampered merchant, ' I am never 
 well.' ' Without my brandy and water before I go 
 to bed, I cannot sleep a wink,' says the comfortable 
 shopkeeper ; and all suppose they are foUowing Na- 
 ture , but sooner or later the offended goddess sends 
 her avenging minister in the shape of vapors, gout, 
 or dropsy. Having long gone wrong, you must get 
 right by degrees ; there is no summary process. 
 Medicine may assist, or give temporary reliet ; but 
 you have a habit to alter — a tendency to change — 
 from a tendency to being ill to a tendency to being 
 well. First study to acquire a composure of mind 
 and body. Avoid agitation or hurry of one or the 
 other, especially just before and after meals, and 
 whilst the process of digestion is going on. To this 
 end govern your temper — endeavor to look at the 
 bright side of things — keep down as much as possi- 
 ble the unruly passions — discard envy, hatred, and 
 malice, and lay your head upon your pillow in 
 charity wits all mankind. Let not your wants out- 
 run your means. Whatever difficulties you have 
 to encounter, be not perplexed, but think only what 
 it is right to do, in the sight of Him who seeth 
 all things, and bear without repining, the result. 
 When your meals arc soUtary let your thoughts be 
 cheerful; when they arc social, which is better, 
 avoid disputes, or serious argument, or unpleasant 
 topics. 'Unquiet merfls,' says Shakspeare, 'make 
 ill digestions ;' and the contrary is produced by 
 easy conversation, a pleasant project, welcome news, 
 or a lively companion, [Walker's Original. 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 ll->om the Irieli Qunrtoily lievii'w.) 
 JOHN HOCAN, THE IRISH SCULPTOR. 
 
 ills I'AIIENTAOK. 
 
 Like nil our great uioilern siulpiors, Hopan s]irnn(; 
 from the ariisan clasii. Cnnova's fnllier was a sioiic 
 cutter ; TliorwaUlson's, a rude carver in wood ; Chris- 
 tiaii Kauch siooil beliind a royal carriage; and Don- 
 ncckcr may have cleaned the slaliKa of a duke. 
 Scbwanihiilir claimed no high descent, though he 
 brought up the rear of a line of artists. Tenernni and 
 Uiin/.oni, yiaxman and Chaniry were all of the people. 
 Hogan's father, however, though he hold no higher po- 
 sition than that of master builder, came of an old tribe, 
 mentioned in the ' Annals of the Four Masters,' and 
 onco possessed of castle, chapel, and wo may hope 
 good rents in the county Tii>pernry. The artist's 
 mother, if not of bluer blood, hud notable ancesteis in 
 times less distant from our own. She was a Miss 
 Frances Cox, of Dunmainvay, County Cork, great 
 grand-daughter of Sir Kichard Cox, Lord Chief Jus- 
 tice of Ireland, in the reign of William and Mary, and 
 Lord Chancellor under Queen Anne. She was an or- 
 phan, and while living under the care of certain rela- 
 tions, whoso family mansion was in the course of un- 
 dergoing alterations, according to the directions of the 
 elder Hogan, met the young ariisan at the table of his 
 employer. She was evidently attracted by the manly 
 carriage and respectable manner of ihe young builder ; 
 and appears soon to have discovered, with a true wo- 
 man's instinct, that he, with his pride of independence 
 and steady industry, was worthier of her hand and 
 heart, than any of the here litary squirearchy of her 
 own estate. At all events, she responded in faith and 
 generosity to his honorable suit. How good was the 
 exchange is told in a word : — she left without one sigh 
 of regret her aristocratic relations and guardians, 
 ■whose indignation at the supposed mesalliance was 
 made the excuse of refusing to pay the marriage por- 1 
 tion of £2,000 she was eniilled to, and chose for her 
 own liege lord, a man who, valuing her for herself 
 
 alone, declined to urge his claim to the money so dis- 
 honorably withheld. 
 
 HOGAK'S first Al"rE.VIt.\.>tF. IN LONDON'. 
 
 Flaxman, 'a mean-looking, decripit man,' he did 
 not admire, either in himself or his works, 'although 
 he is tliought a great deal about by his countrymen.' 
 A lecture given by him was attended by most of the 
 Koyal Academicians, the president, Sir Thomas 
 Lawrence, 'wearing a cocked hat in the chair.' In 
 the Adelphi, Ihe young Irishman saw Barry's pic- 
 tuxes, 'a great sight, no doubt ;' and in the same 
 hall, was much struck with some figures by Bacon, 
 ■which he took for antiques, so good was the execu- 
 tion. In "Westminster Abbey, he admired Eoubil- 
 iac's monuments to the Buke of Argylc and Lady 
 Nightengale; and 'two exquisitely beautiful chil- 
 dren, ■with two female figures extremely graceful' on 
 the pediment of Matthew Trior's monument by llys- 
 brack ; he adds — 
 
 •At the other side of the abbey there are five or 
 six grand and sublime compositions by Bacon, Nol- 
 lekens, AVcstmacott, &c. Bacon's especially is of 
 the Earl of Chatham, who is at the top in a line 
 speaking attitude, and under his feet are very large 
 and noble figures, representing Ocean and Earth in 
 great attitudes, with other allegories, &c.; it is about 
 forty feet high, and the marble of it alone, I should 
 suppose, cost £1,000— a master-piece, undoubtedly. 
 I could not cxamiue the rest, because the rulHau of 
 a "uidc hurried us from one to the other, and would 
 not sutfcr any person to remain beliind after the rest 
 of the company had seen it.' 
 
 In the hall of the British Museum he noticed 'a 
 most delightful and inimitable statue of Shaks- 
 peare by Koubiliac ;' there are, he thinks, some 
 very fine t:_uies there, and a great number of indif- 
 ferent one . Iljg remarks o» the Elgin Marbles are 
 noteworth., , proving how bold was his criticism, 
 
 stowed upon them by the English. 1 know if they 
 were in my possession, I shouUl throw half of them 
 into the Thames.' 
 
 HIS LISTTEnS FHOM ROME. 
 
 15ih August, 1825. 
 This day, at Santa Maria Mnggiore, 1 have received 
 the Pope's benediciion, ho is in right good health at 
 present, is about my height, with broad shoulders, and 
 fine proportioned frame, aged abont sixty years, con- 
 sidered rather young for the head of the church. Five 
 days ago he sentenced three very young men to death, 
 the crime was robbery, not murder, hut that such is 
 the justice of Leo, that after having them to hear mass 
 and receive the sacrament they were placed kneeling in 
 the Piazza di Bocca dclla Verila, opposite the beautiful 
 tempte of Vesta, and in that posture received the con- 
 tents of the carbines of about forty soldiers; not a word 
 nor a'groan, nor a kick, was heard or seen from them 
 after. At the execution I saw bnt two women, and 
 those were of the lowest class; by it you have an idea 
 of the tenderness of the Roman dames, but when I 
 rtflect on a poor devil aliout to be hanged in Cork I 
 see battalions of the sex posted on all sides of Gallows- 
 green. 0! my country. 
 
 HIS FinST STVDIO. 
 
 Now for the main object — a subject which gives 
 pleasure to my father. I therefore shall, in a few 
 lines, give a brief but true account of all. A short 
 time before Mr. Rice left this, I discovered that a 
 studio was about to be let for twenty-four crowns a 
 year in Vicolo dcgli Incurabili vicino al Corso, an 
 excellent situation. Knowing that the English paid 
 about fifty or sLxty annually, I -without losing a mo- 
 ment, entered into an agreement ■with the padrone, 
 paid twenty-two seudi for stands, benches, irons, 
 clay, &c., and, as it is expected that Rome shall be 
 crowded with English nobility next year, I go slap- 
 bang on speculation, commence modelling, and fin- 
 ished a figure in plaster, that I might have some- 
 thing to show against that time ; the subject, a shep- 
 herd boy recumbent, with his pipe in one hand, and 
 by his side a goat, which I understand form an ad- 
 mirable pyramidal composition. My model was a 
 stout sabine lad ; I had him employed for fifty hours, 
 for which I paid him five crowns, and, when done, 
 wet his whistle with a jorum of wine ; I paid a for- 
 matore twelve scudi to cast it in gesso. Cammuci- 
 ni, a first-rate Italian painter, Gibson, and all the 
 English artists here, confess that it is very like na- 
 ture, and modelled with a great deal of spirit, breadth 
 and force. One or two of my intimate friends say 
 that some things I have done, particularly a oust, 
 look as solid as stone, or appear more like casts of 
 marble than from clay ; but this I attribute to my 
 practice in timber, which gave me a lightness in ex- 
 ecution which few possess. Let no person read this 
 as I puff myself. Who knows but some fellow would 
 take a liking to it, and order it to be cut in marble ; 
 if so I finger the cash when finished. I am about to 
 commence immediately Sir John Leicester's figure 
 in clay, and am resolved to pay all due attention 
 and application to the same. Although I have made 
 several sketches for it, I am not yet determined on 
 any particular one. My first intention was a danc- 
 in" figure, but Canova and others have done so 
 many of that class, that there scarcely remains an 
 original attitude. 
 
 THE dhuxkex faun. 
 
 The next work in order is the famous Drunken 
 Faun. In the letters we find him modelling ' an ac- 
 tive, light and strong figure o" a laun,' which, he 
 says, has gained him infinite honor, being consider- 
 ed perfectly original in composition and full of na- 
 ture ; and this we know to be true. Cammucini 
 was delighted ■\vith it, and that artist's praise ivas a 
 great stimulus to the young sculptor, and ' acted in 
 
 party of artists, threw out the observation, that any- 
 thing original in the classic style ■was now impossi- 
 ble, all attitudes, expressions, and variety of forms 
 having been already done into marble by great mas- 
 ters. The sense of the company on the occasion ■we 
 allude to may be inferred from the fact that on Ho- 
 gon boldly declaring that he could not believe any 
 such thing, one of the party, Gibson, it is said, ad- 
 dressing the young Irishman somewhat sneeringly, 
 replied, ' then perhaps you. Sir, can jiroduce an 
 original work I' The brave Hogan, who us we have 
 seen, had been but a few years devoted to his art, 
 and who indeed was even then still occupied with 
 his first work in marble, returned to his studio, 
 and tliought ; and the Pruiikcii Faun, which Cam- 
 mucini, and all the artists of Rome admitted to be 
 original and perfect and which Thorwaldscn pro- 
 nounced worthy of an Athenian studio, was the re- 
 sult of his thinking. 
 
 TllORWAl.nSKN. 
 
 One of their first interviews, perhaps wc should say 
 encounters, was rather a lr\ingoncfor our country- 
 man. Hogan had just inodclkd a figure in clay ; with 
 the timidity of a young artist, and we may suppose a 
 nervous desire for the iipproval of so imperial a judg- 
 ment, he asked Thorwaldscn to come see his model, 
 and putting a slick into his hand, requested him to 
 mark any defeats he might perceive in the figure. 
 The remorseless master actually cut the figure in 
 pieces, to the terror and dismay of the poor sculptor, 
 who, with tuch hitter feelings as we can imagine, 
 rushed into the studio of a neighboring fellow-artist, 
 and told him his melancholy story. ' Never mind,' 
 was the answer — ' may be Thorwaldscn is jealous — 
 don't show him a clay model again.' Hogan took the 
 hint, and not until the cast -ivas completed of the 
 Drunken Faun, requested Thorwaldscn's presence in 
 his studio — not this time for ihe purpose of making 
 correclions. ' Ah !' said the Dane, striking the artist 
 suddenly on the shoulder, 'You are a real sculptor — 
 Avcte fatto un mirtcalo !' The other day, wc held in 
 our hand a bronze medal, which Thorwaldscn gave 
 I Hogan, when he took leave of him on his own land — 
 ' My son,' said Thorwaldscn, cmlnacing him warmly, 
 ' You arc the best sculptor I leave aftir me in Home !' 
 
 HOW HOGAN" WORKED. 
 
 Many sculptors are utterly unable to handle their 
 own works except in the plasiic clay in which the 
 model is first produced, and forevery subsequent oper- 
 ation are obliged to depend 0'> the skill and cxpertness 
 of tradesmen. But it was not so with Hogan. He 
 was generally his own fonnatore, making the waste- 
 mould for this clay and eiisting the plaster model, and 
 also, as we have said, when there was difliculty, or 
 nicety, he took upon himself the harder manual labor 
 of the scarpellins. Thus to his own hands are to be 
 attrihuted the delicate softness of the flesh, and the 
 peculiar grace of many a fold in his works in the rigid 
 marble. It is said of Michael Angelo that he chiselled 
 a statue out of a block of marble, without the prelim- 
 inary step of modelling it, and Hogan has been 
 known to deviate boldly from his model in transfcring 
 work to marhle, a thing which would be impossible 
 unless he held the chisel in his own hand, and which 
 mnst have required great skill in guiding it, and no 
 little courage in atiempiing an alteration in such a 
 material. Hogan prided himself on his knowledge of 
 anatomy, a study indispensable* to the sculptor, and a 
 deficiency in which has often made artists fall into 
 most egregious errors, A muscle wrongly inserted, or 
 unnaturally developed, was always inexcusable in his 
 eyes. A human skeleton which he amused himself in 
 carving when a young man, and which skilful anato- 
 mists have pronounced to be scientifically accuraie, he 
 generally kept by him in after life while modelling liis 
 figures. He was also an admirable draughtsman, his 
 academy figures in crayons being beautiful specimens 
 
 and how . '. Iv he began to think for himself in all the same manner as the sound of a trumpet to the 
 that regaraei his art. 'I do not think,' he says. I ears of a war-horse.' It was •'"> — » f^"-' 
 'the Elgin Marbles deserve so much praise as is be- 
 
 of drawing, both in outline and shadows, and conse- 
 the same Cammucini, j quently he was very quick in detecting incorrect draw- 
 we believe, who in Hogan's presence, at an evening ing in a picture. 
 
IRISH MISCELLAI^Y. 
 
 HOO\N IN ms FAMILY. 
 
 llis wife and children were the whole world to 
 him ; the more his heart \vns rung with anxiety and 
 bitter care, the closer he drew them about him. 
 'If I could only live to see ray childrijn settled in 
 some way,' he used to say, to a very dear friend, to 
 whom llis hopes and his sorrows were ever freely 
 poured out, 'If they were safe, for my own part I 
 would be delighted to go to my God.' To his chil- 
 'dren, even if he had left them thousands, he would 
 be an infinite loss ; he kept them so carefully, 
 watched over them with such vigilance. They are 
 children in years, but for more so in guileless bear- 
 ing. They were kept apart from the world, as from 
 all evil, by the jealous care of their father. He 
 himself could not bear to be away from them. 
 AVhen he accepted an invitation, he was never at 
 rest until he got back again. It was a very odd 
 time indeed that he was to be met with in society. 
 Occasionally he attended a soiree of the Provost 
 of Trinity College, or was a guest of Dr. Wilde ; 
 but the latter, who all through Hogan's latter years 
 showed him such constant and disinterested kind- 
 nes_s, as we have seldom known, and Mrs. Wilde, 
 who seems to love everything in the shape of talent, 
 were trusted and valued friends of the artist. Lord 
 Cloncurry, calling on Hogan one day, found hira at 
 dinner, seated, according to his custom, at the head 
 of the table, with one of the younger children at 
 each hand, and the rest ranged in order along the 
 sides. The noble Cloncurry lifted up his hands in 
 amazement, and said it was the finest sight he ever 
 saw ; and next day — how like him ! — he sent, un- 
 der some pretence, £20 to Mrs. Hoean, rightly 
 judging that the mother of such a race could be at 
 no loss to know what to do with a gift of the kind. 
 In the evenings it was the artist's custom to sit with 
 his family, and while the children were engaged 
 with their studies, he would read some amusing 
 book ; now and then as some passage struck him, 
 translating it into the sweet native Italian for his 
 wife. At nine o'clock the whole simple household 
 was dispersed for the night, unless when some spe- 
 cial occasion, as one of the great festivals of the 
 church, occuiing, he would have more particular 
 family devotions. 
 
 A BROTHER'S LAMENT. 
 
 On the 18th of February 1782. I taw a young man, said 
 to be deranged, standing on the sea sliore, watching a spot 
 where bis sister was drowned five years before, returnin"- 
 from Ij-eiaud. [Sinclair's Norway. 
 
 That ocean wave, that ocean wave. 
 
 It rolls above my sister's grave. 
 
 Hymning a requiem deep and dull. 
 
 O'er her who once was beautiful. 
 
 ■When last yon harvest moon was bright, 
 
 She roved in thought beneath its light: 
 
 Yon harvest moon is waning low. 
 
 And Isabel, where is she now? 
 
 I saw her die, I saw her die. 
 
 She Ii,\ed on me her closing eye, 
 
 In fond farewell I rushed to save. 
 
 But she was in her ocean grave. 
 
 She passed away, she passed away 
 
 Like sunsiiiue on an April day; 
 
 The harvest moon looked down from high. 
 
 But she was in eternity. 
 
 When life, when love, when all was o'er. 
 
 The wave crept gently to the shore; 
 
 The winds slept, and the sullen sea, 
 
 Seemed weeping for its cruelty. 
 
 But all too late, I wandered home. 
 
 Hopeless as tenant of the tomb, 
 
 For 1 had not one friend to bless 
 
 My cottage hearth of loneliness. 
 
 The bee hummed by my silent bower, 
 
 Tlic thrush sung hlytlie to shrub and flower, 
 
 And summer wind came laughing by 
 
 As if to mock my agony. 
 
 They felt not grief, they could not kuow 
 
 A sister's death, a brother's woe- 
 
 They could not,— but my brain-ray brain- 
 
 'Tis frenzied, racked, and seared again! 
 
 So fare thee well, so fare thee well. 
 
 My sister— ocean rings thy knell. 
 
 And sea nymphs in their cavern's rude 
 
 Keep sacred thy sweet solitude. 
 
 NATURE, SCIENCE AND ART. 
 
 An instrument called the opthalmoscope, by the 
 aid of wliicli the human eye may be internally ex- 
 amined, has recently been brought'to the notice of 
 the soientiflc world. The instrument is in the form 
 of a concave mirror, with a hole in the centre, in 
 which a lens is inserted ; to this another lens is 
 added, which, however, is separate and movable. 
 When the iu.strument is used, a lighted candle is 
 placed by the side of the patient. The concave mir- 
 ror is then held in front of the eye to be examined, 
 while the movable lens is suspended between the 
 light and the mirror in such a manner as to con- 
 centrate the rays of the first on the second. The 
 reflected rays converge on the retina, and on passing 
 through it diverge and render luminous the whole 
 interior of the eye, which the observer can see by 
 looking through the lens placed in the mirror's 
 centre. The retina and the lens form a microscope, 
 the multiplying power of which is about five hundred. 
 
 TniVEL OVER Snow by SxEiii. Letters from St. 
 Petersburgh state that a Polish exile in Siberia has 
 invented a means of applying steam power to the 
 traction of the sledges, by which journeys may be 
 made on the froxen rivers and steppes covered with 
 frozen snow which abound in the Russian dominions. 
 
 Silica is a mineral substance, commonly known 
 as Flint ; and it is one of the wonders of the veg- 
 etable tribes, that, although flint is so indestructa- 
 ble that the strongest medical aid is required for its 
 solution, plants possess the power of dissolving and 
 secreting it. Even so delicate a structure as the 
 wheat straw dissolves silica, and every stalk of wheat 
 is covered with a perfect, but inconceivably thin 
 coating of this substance. 
 
 Amid all the wonders of nature which we have 
 had occasion to explain, there is none more start- 
 ling than that which reveals to our knowledge the 
 fact that a flint stone consists of the mineralized 
 bodies of animals, just as coal consists of masses 
 of mineralized vegetable matter. The animals are 
 believed to have been infusorial animalculse, coated 
 with silicous shells, as the wheat straw of to-day 
 is clothed with a glassy covering of silica. The skel- 
 etons of animalouloe which compose flint, may be 
 brought under microscopic examination. Geologists 
 have some difficulty in determining their opinions 
 respecting the relation which these animalculae bear 
 to the flint stones in which they are found. Whether 
 the animaloulas, in dense masses, form the flint ; or 
 whether the flint merely supplies a sepulchre to the 
 countless millions 'of creatures that, ages ago, en- 
 joyed each a separate and conscious existence, is a 
 problem that may never be solved. And what a 
 problem ! The buried plant being disentombed, after 
 having lain for ages in the bowels of the earth, 
 gives us light and warmth ; and the animalcule, 
 after a sleep of ages, dissolves into the sap of a 
 plant, and wraps the coat it wore, probably "in the 
 beginning, when God created the heavens and the 
 earth, and when the earth first brought forth liv- 
 ing creatures," around the slender stalk of waving 
 corn ! 
 
 GuAKO is a productive manure, because it contains 
 with other suitable elements, an abundance of the 
 silicious skeletons of animalcula;. 
 
 Wheat-Cuops greatly exhaust the soil, because, as 
 well as the carbon and the salts, which form the 
 straw and the grain, it draws off from the soil a 
 great amount of silica. And straw is frequently 
 used as a manure, for the reason tliat it gives back 
 with other substances, a cousidenible portion of 
 silica, in that form which adapts'it to the use of the 
 succeeding crop. 
 
 When the perfume of flowers is unusually per- 
 cepible, wet weather may bo anticipated, for the 
 reason that when the air is damp, it conveys the 
 odors of flowers more effectively than it does when 
 dry ; also, when swallows fly low, wet weather may 
 may be expected, because the insects which the 
 
 swallows pursue in their flight are flying low, to 
 escape the moisture of the upper regions of the 
 atmosphere. Ducks and geese go to the water, and 
 dash it over their bucks on the approach of rain, 
 because by wetting the outer coat of their feathers, 
 before the rain falls, by sudden dashes of water over 
 the surface, they prevent the drops of rain from pen- 
 etrating to their bodies through the open and dry 
 feathers. Horses and cattle stretch out their necks 
 and snuff the air on the approach of rain, because 
 they smell the fragrant perfume which is diffused 
 in the air by its increasing moistness. 
 
 A writer in Blackwood, in criticising the produc- 
 tions of British artists, mentions a picture of "The 
 Nativity," in which the head of the infant Christ ap- 
 pears encircled by a peculiar halo which vei-y much 
 resembles a broad-brimmed straw hat! What an asso- 
 ciation of ideas ! 
 
 Many have wondered by what means gossamer 
 spiders are enabled to float through the air. Hav- 
 ing no wings, and being deficient in the active 
 muscular powers of other spiders, they have been 
 endowed with the power of spinning a web which is 
 so light that it floats in the air, and bears the body 
 of the gossamer spider from place to place. Each 
 web acts as a balloon, and the spider attached 
 thereto is a little aeronaut. 
 
 Few persons are aware that it is only the female 
 glow-worm which emits a light. The female glow- 
 worm is without wings, but the male is a winged 
 insect. The female, therefore, is endowed with the 
 power of displaying a phosphorescent light. The 
 light is only visible by night, but it is, nevertheless 
 beautifully adapted for the purpose stated, because 
 the male is a night-flying insect, and never ventures 
 abroad by day. 
 
 The Wounded Sailors.— During the war of 1812, 
 it will be remembered, a bloody combat took place ofif 
 the southern part of Nantucket, between the Ameri- 
 can privateer Neufchatel, and the boats of the British 
 frigate Endymion. The wounded of both p.arties were 
 landed at Nantucket. Among them were two mess- 
 mates, one of whom had his under jaw dreadfully 
 shattered by a musket ball, and the other was so 
 wounded in the wrist as to render necessary the am- 
 putation of his hand. Soon after the requisite sur- 
 gical operations had been performed, they were in- 
 vited to dine at a friend's house, where they were 
 observed to stick by each other with peculiar ten- 
 acity. The company fell to ; but our maimed her- 
 oes were respectively disabled from performing those 
 manual and maxillary exploits which were exhibiting 
 around them. After having complacently surveyed 
 the scene without any offer of assistance from the 
 busy guests, whose diffidence perhaps outweighed 
 their inclinations, he with 'one flipper,' thus sternly 
 though with much point and humor, addressed his 
 broken-jawed companion : 'I s.ay, .Jack, since you can't 
 grind, nor I carve, and the land lubbers are all 
 tucking the beef under their jackets, what say you 
 for splicing ? ' if you '11 cut for me, I '11 chew for 
 you !' 
 
 Patriotism. — The objects of true patriotism are, 
 he temporal and eternal welfare of our fellow-citi- 
 izens, the honor, beauty, and improvement of our 
 native land. It is not like that base allection for the 
 world which is declared to lie at enmity with God. 
 The true patriot will lie emulous of every vir'ue, he 
 will be brave in a lawful cause, like Joshua, Judith, 
 David and Maccabees. He will love peace, practice 
 charity, and endeavor to reconcile his contending breth- 
 ren, if, like ihe Israelites ii» Egypt, they should 'do 
 wrong one to anotlicr.' Like the great St. Paul, he 
 may sometimes shake his chains, and see that his char- 
 tered rights of citizenship be not invaded. He will in- 
 dustriously court instruction for himself, and eagerly 
 impart it to his more occupied, or less stadious coaa- 
 trymen. 
 
IRISH MISCELLAIST. 
 
 Bairack Bridge, (formerly Bloody Bridge,) was 
 Originally built of wood in 1671, but afterward3 con- 
 strutted of stone. It consists of four plain scraicircn- 
 lar arches. The erection, at the south end, of a grand 
 gothic gateway leading to Kilmainham Hospital, and 
 the scenery in the back ground, give to this bridge at 
 present, a very romantic appearance. 
 
 The Queen's Bridge, seen beneath the other, con- 
 sists of three arches of hewn stone, and though .small. 
 
 BARRACK AND QUEEN'S BRIDGES, 
 orders of a like nature. Number Fn-E will imme- 
 diately follow. 
 
 RAILROAD INCIDENT. 
 
 It was late. The lamps of the car burned dimly. In 
 one seat were a "happy couple" rejoicing in a carpet 
 bag, two band boxes, an umbrella, a brown paper 
 parcel, and a ".sleeping cherub." Suddenly, cherub, 
 being but 140 feet in length, is neat and wcll-propor- ■ a girl of some three years experience in this strange 
 tioncd. It was erected in 1763. On the site of the 1 world, awoke from one of those long, nndisturbed 
 present structure, Arran-bridgc formerly stood, which slumbers that are among the inalienable preroga- 
 was built in 160.3, and swept aw^iy by a flond in 1763. \ tives of blameless childhood, and climbed up so as to 
 Rclutive to the original construction of the former } stand and look over the bock of the seat. Two care- 
 Bridge, we have been favored l>y a correspondent with ! worn travelers, weary and half-awakened men, sat 
 the following : - 1 directly in front of the innocent little creature. They 
 
 ' Pa.ssing over the bridge that leads from Watling [ looked as if they had been on board of railroad cars 
 Street across the Liffey, I in(|uircd its name, and found for a month, and had journeyed from the regions 
 
 it was called Bloody Bridge, from a great battle that 
 was fought there during the rebellion ot 1641. I was 
 told again, it derived its name from n number of ap- 
 ■prenticcs who were hung on its battlements during 
 the ' affair of '98 ;' and some other causes are given 
 
 about sunset. The great curious' eyes of the child 
 fell upon them. She scanned carefully the faces of 
 each, and one would have deemed her to be an infan- 
 tile physiognomist. Presently one of them looked at 
 her. It was evident that she rather liked him of the 
 
 for its sanguinary tiile. These contradictory reports j^g j^^j l,ac| about made up her mind to speak to 
 
 induced me to consult history. Its origin is as fol 
 lows: — A. D. 1408, the Duko of Lancaster made ex- 
 traordinary preparations for subduing the I'ish of 
 Leinster, who, under the command of the King Art 
 M'Murchard O'Cavanagh, were fearfully encroaching 
 on the Pale. The consequence was, a most sanguina- 
 ry conflict took place between the two armies at the 
 western extremity of Dublin, where the Phoenix Park 
 now stands. The English were defeated with dreadful 
 slaoghter, and hotly pursued to the gates of ihe city. 
 Before they could enter the city, they had to cross the 
 Liffey by a ford. Here the confusion became fearful 
 
 him ; for instantly her little voice was heard, as she 
 piped out the query : — 
 
 "Does you love little girls ?" 
 
 The man looked at her a moment gruffly, and then 
 replied : " No I don't." 
 
 A shade of unutterable disappointment and sur- 
 prise was instantly daguerreotypcd upon the sweet 
 and blooming countenance of the child, but passed 
 away when she replied : 
 
 "Yes, 3*n do." 
 
 The man raised himself and took another look. He 
 
 —the Irish enemy were upon them, and before the half was evidently both puzzled and interested ; and ho 
 
 of the defeated army had crossed, the ford was complete- | said : 
 
 ly choakcd up with the dead and dying, and the water 1 "How do you know?" 
 
 And she replied : 
 
 "Cause you looked as if you did." 
 
 This thawed him out some, and he said : 
 
 "I have got a little girl at home.'- 
 
 The little questioner now evidently felt that she ^ ^^^ ^^^ ^^^^ 
 
 commanded the English, was wounded near the walls ! was on the "right track," and after a look that ehowed j .^^_^^^jj^ artlessness were powerful enough to break 
 of Dublin, and soon after breathed his last.' ! that this intelligence presented a new and unexpect- | ^j^^^^j^ ^^^ roughness, the weariness, the reserve, 
 
 ed views of the affair, renewed the conversation car- i ^^^ ^^^ indifference of the travel worn men of the 
 
 world, and to melt them to tears. 
 
 contiuued red for three days, whence it got the name 
 of Ath Cro, i. e. the Bloody Ford, whirh name was 
 communicated to a bridge afterwards built over the 
 ford. Whether the present bridge is the original one 
 or not, I cannot say. The Duke of Lancaster, who 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "Is she a real good little girl?" 
 "Sometimes she is !" 
 "Is she naughty sometimes ?" 
 "Yes." 
 
 "Does she go down in the kitchen when she hadn't 
 ought to?" . 
 
 "Yes, sometimes." 
 
 "Do you whip your little girl when she is naugh- 
 ty?" 
 
 "Sometimes." 
 
 "Does she cry when you talk to her and tell her 
 she is naughty ?" 
 "Yes." 
 
 "Then do you whip her ?" 
 "Sometimes." 
 
 "When she says she is sorry do you whip her 
 then !" 
 
 "No never." 
 
 The little creature's eyes danced and sparkled at 
 this, and drawing conclusions, and no doubt from her 
 own own experience she exclaimed: 
 "I's real glad, I is '." 
 
 Then looking at the other man who had refused to 
 answer the question she had put to him, she said to 
 her newly made frieud with a look of wonder." 
 
 "That man won't speak to me ! Does he love lit- 
 tle girls?" 
 
 The man had a, heart somewhere, and he thawed 
 out. Rousing himself, he extended his brawny hand 
 and said : 
 
 "How do you do, sissy ?" 
 
 And the little creature, not altogether at her ease, 
 replied : 
 
 "I's pretty well— how is you ?" 
 By this time all within hearing of the colloquy 
 were moved to tears— the eyes of the parents of the 
 little prattler were full to overflowing— and those 
 who were nearest heard one of the men she had 
 questioned say to the other : 
 "She's a little witch." 
 And 80 she was ! Her blooming beauty and her 
 
 NtTMBEK Four of this paper has been printed ; , , , „ • ,i „„„„„j 
 
 ,„ . „, , , ' ' , , , neatly, and the following collo<iBy ensued 
 
 re have endeavored to supply the numerous dc- """•'' 7 . ,,„ 
 
 n-ands for it, and shall be happy to attend to other I 
 
 Does you love your little girl?" 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 TO CORRESPONDENTS. 
 
 (T/" Communiontions intended lor insertion in tliis puper 
 should be nddrc'tised 
 
 ' Editors of the Irish Miscellniiy, 
 
 Boston, fliass.' 
 
 Comnmnicntions from subscribers, sliould be directed 
 ft-om the township, county imd stute in which tlicy reside. 
 
 117* Our CoiiUKsroNDicwTS should forward cominunica- 
 tioua intended for iusertion in tlie Miscrllauy, not later than 
 the Saturday before tlie day of publication, as our increaa- 
 inp circulation compels us to go to press every Monday 
 morning. 
 
 'Silken Thomas.' New York.— llupli O'neil deftated 
 Cromwel on the occasion reierred to. He had a lorce of 
 about sixteen hundred brave nortliern troops, and with this 
 mere handl'ul of men. maintained his guard fortwo months 
 ajjainet Cromwell, who commanded twenty thousand sol- 
 diers, killing nearly two thousand five hundred English 
 mercenaries in one assault, which, Lingard says, lasted four 
 hours. The town was linally evacuated in cont^equence of 
 want ol powder and provisions. O'Neil withdrew his 
 troops so skilfully as to escape the notice of Cromwell, 
 who gave the unarmed townspeople honorable terms ol 
 capitulation, believing that the garrison was still in the 
 town. 
 
 ' A Down Mak.'— The River Bann rises in the County 
 of Down, as stated by you, about eight miles east of the 
 town of Kewry, in the high lands near the coast. You do 
 not describe its course accurately. It flows in a north-west 
 direction to Lough Neagh, which it enters near the south- 
 western corner, and issues from the north-western part of 
 the Lough, flowing through Lough Beg, and thence nearly 
 north to the Korth Sea, which it joins about four miles 
 north-west of Cpleraine. 
 
 , ' Charles O'Keil,' Philadelphia.— Baltinglase was once 
 a place of considerable importance. The name is supposed 
 to he derived from Beal — tinne— -glass, which signified the 
 'Fire of the Mysteries of Beal.' Some persons suppose it 
 to have been the grand Beal— tinne of the southern states 
 of Leinster. Several Druidical remains are in the neigh- 
 borhood. At Sunder's Grove, in the vicinity of the town, 
 in 1787, numerous graves, or tombs, were discovered, com- 
 posed of large flag-stones, set edgeways, without a bottom, 
 and covered on the top with various shapeless stones. The 
 entrance to the tombs, which contained arms made of baked 
 earth, was full of burnt bones and ashes. Sliebh GuJh, or 
 Church Mountain, is about seven miles north-east of Bal- 
 tinglass. 
 
 ' Pateicitts,' Boston. — Every county in Ireland has a 
 Deputy Lieutenant. The Lord Lieutenant is the Queen's 
 deputy, or representative; that is, he is supposed to act for 
 her and in her stead. 
 
 ' Frank,' Providence.- Received. 
 
 J. O. H., Jr.. Frankfort, N. T. — Inasmuch as you have 
 regularly received the Miscellany through another source 
 from the commencement, by remitting to this ofiice, as you 
 propose doing, one dollar, you will oe entitled to a copy 
 of our Gift Picture. 
 
 The siege of Orleans, memorable as one of the most ex- 
 traordinary in history, commenced on the 12th of October, 
 1418. Joan of Arc was captured in a desperate rally from 
 Compiegne, on the 23d of May, 1430. She was burnt to 
 death at the stake in the old market at Rouen on the 31st of 
 May, 1431. 
 
 IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 BOSTON, SATURDAY, AUGUST 14, 1858 
 
 THE TRIUMPH OF THE ACE! 
 
 The Eastern and Western hemispheres are no lon- 
 ger separated : Neptune's domain has been invaded, 
 and they are conjoined. After repeated unsuccessful 
 endeavors, the Atlantic cable, on board the United 
 States steam frigate ' Niagara' and British steam pro- 
 peller 'Agamemnon,' was successfully laid from Valen- 
 tia Bay, Ireland, to Trinity Bay, Newfoundland, on 
 Thursday, the 5th of August. Beyond doubt, this 
 great undertaking is the grandest achievement that 
 Science has yet made, and the mighty results which 
 are to flow therefrom, revolutionizing as it must all 
 former modes of transacting business, renders futile 
 every attempt at prognostication. From such data as 
 we have at hand, we compde an epitome of the opera- 
 tions of the 'New York, Newfoundland, and London 
 Telegraph Co.,' from its inception in April, 1854, lit- 
 tle more than three years ago : At that time, the co- 
 lonial government of Newfoundland gave to this cor- 
 poration certain grants ofland and subsidy, conferring 
 the exclusive right to land a telegraphic line upon the 
 coast under its jurisdiction, extending the entire length 
 of Newfoundland and Labrador. The government of 
 Prince Edward's Island and the State of Maine like- 
 wise, encouraged the enterprise. 
 
 The stock of the company is divided into 350 shares, 
 of one thousand pounds each. The proportions in 
 which the shares were taken, were one hundred and 
 one in London, eighty-eight in America, eighty-six in 
 Liverpool, thirty-seven in Glasgow, twenty-eight in 
 Manchester, the remainder in olhcr part.< of England. 
 After due experiments, it was decided to adopt a 
 telegraphic cable composed of seven fine copper wros, 
 
 twisted into a cord of one-sixteenth of an inch thick. 
 This strand was coated with gutta percha, forming a 
 small ropo ihrec-eighihs of an inch thick ; then coated 
 with Iiempcn. twine twice soaked in pitch and tar > 
 lastly, an external sheathing of 18 iron wires, each 
 wire being a strand of seven finer wires, making in all 
 126 wires. The weight of the cnble is about one ton 
 per mile, and it is capable of bearing a direct strain of 
 ovi r five tons without fracture. 
 
 The first attempt to lay the cable was made on the 
 5th of August, 185', at which six steamers assisted. 
 An accident happened on the following day, which was 
 repaired, but on the 11th, after 380 statute miles had 
 been submerge d, the engineer concluding that there 
 was too much 'slack,' the cable snapped, and so end- 
 ed the experiment of last year. The vessels first nam- 
 ed above and their ' tenders ' left I'lymonth, England, 
 on the 10th of June last ; after encountering very 
 boisterous weather, the first splice was made on the 
 morning of the 26th, when, each ship having paid out 
 about three miles, the cable broke on board the Niag- 
 ara. A fresh splice was made, and the work proceed- 
 ed beautifully until early next morning, when the sig- 
 nals suddenly ceased. The wire was cut, though no 
 satisfactory explanation of this accident has been given. 
 
 The Niagara and Agamemnon met a third time on 
 the 28th, and a third time connected the cable. They 
 then started afresh, and the Niagara having paid out 
 over 150 miles of cable, all on board entertained the 
 most sanguine anticipations of success, when the fatal 
 announcement v. as made on the 29th, at 9 P. M., that 
 the current had ceased to flow. Accordingly this im- 
 mense vessel, with all her stores, &c., was allowed to 
 swing to the cable, and in addition a strain of four 
 tons was placed upon the breaks ; yet, although it was 
 blowing fresh at the time, the cable held her, as if she 
 had been at anchor, for over an hour, when a heavy 
 pitch of the sea snapped the rope, and the Niagara 
 bore away for Queenstown. It was subsequently as- 
 certained that the cable parted about six fathoms from 
 the stern of the Agamemnon. About 400 miles of ca- 
 ble were lost during these trials. 
 
 Notwithstanding these failures the managers contin- 
 ued undaunted. The fleet sailed a second time from 
 Queenstown on the 17th of July, joined the cable on 
 the 29th, and the news of its final accomplishment has 
 thrilled with astonishment and delight the civilized 
 world. The total cost of this cable is $1,258,250. 
 
 A network of telegraphic communication, then, cen- 
 tres in Ireland, and we fondly hope that, now she has 
 at length steam communication established on a solid 
 basis with the American continent, her speedy disen- 
 thrallment will follow, that she may take her place 
 among the nations of the earth. She is attached by 
 chains of electric light to the Republic of the West, 
 and the manacles of the oppressor must forthwith be 
 cast off. In the latter part of May 1 852, Ireland was 
 brought into instant communication with Britain by 
 means of the submarine telegraph. 
 
 The distance between the points of connection — Hol- 
 lyhead and Howth — is sixty-five miles, and the great- 
 est depth five hundred and four feet. There was only 
 one wire in this cable, with the indispensable coating 
 of gutta perchn, which was protected and strengthened 
 by the iron wire covering the outside. It was laid at 
 the rate of four miles per hour, and fell so evenly that 
 only three miles fmore than the actual distance trav- 
 ersed was required. Scotland and Ireland were con- 
 nected by a cable of six wires in May, 1853. The dis- 
 tance is about thirty miles, and was traversed by the 
 steamer in not more ten hours. 
 
 The bard of Avon was indeed a prophet. In ' Mid- 
 summer's Night Dream,' he says through Obcron : 
 ' I'll put a girdle round about the earth in forty min- 
 utes !' Even erratic K. W. Emerson utters the follow- 
 ing pretty sentiment :— ^ 
 
 And. henceforth, there shall hi; no chain, 
 
 .Save underneath the sea; 
 The wires shall murmur througli the maiu 
 
 Swcft songs ol' liberty. 
 
 The coiiKciouR stars accord above, 
 
 The WBlcm wild below. 
 And under, through the cable wove, 
 I Her ticry errands go. 
 
 IRISH LANDLORDISM. 
 
 A singular exposition of the character of Irish 
 landlordism has been made, in a memorial recently 
 prepared by the tenants of the Marquis of Lands- 
 downe, in the County of Kerry. The Marquis is 
 reputed to be an amiable and just man, who has 
 gained a flattering reputation by the meek wisdom 
 which he has displayed in the political arena. But 
 in the management of the Irish estates, he follows 
 the 'system,' and leaves his vasscls to the tender 
 mercies of his agent. This agent is a Mr. John Stu- 
 art French, and he seems to issue his edicts and make 
 laws with almost Imperial potency. By the law of 
 the Landsdowne estates, no tenant can marry, or 
 procure the marriage of his son or daughter, without 
 permission from the agent. 
 
 But the right to marry and to be given in mar- 
 riage is not the only one of which these unfortunate 
 Landsdowne serfs are robbed by their parentalland- 
 lord. Under the French regulations, no tenant can 
 entertain for the shortest time, the stranger who 
 seeks his hospitality, nor even his nearest relatives 
 or friends ; and no tenant can give a cottage to, or 
 keep elsewhere than in his own house, the farm la- 
 borers, married or unmarried, that may be required 
 for the proper working of his farm. If these regu- 
 lations are violated, the offenders must pay a fine 
 imposed by the agent, or leave the estate. 
 
 Other regulations of a stringent character are en- 
 forced, so that the tenants have less individual lib- 
 erty than Russian serfs. They may, it is true, re- 
 fuse compliance with the rules of Agent French, and 
 accept the alternative of ejection. 
 
 Such is the character of Irish landlordism, because 
 what is true of the Landsdo-wne estate is true also of 
 others. Three-fourths of the tenant or agricultural 
 population of Ireland are in a condition little better 
 that that of abject serfdom , and yet their tyrant 
 can talk of British liberty as if it was a pervading 
 power which protected the weak and restrained the 
 strong. 
 
 Beautiful Poetky. — The appreciative reader will 
 not fail to notice the fine poem on the 10th page fur- 
 nished by our esteemed Washington contributor ; 
 and few we opine, will hesitate to give their assent 
 to the devout wish expressed by the writer towards 
 the close of his effu.sion, that posterity may con with 
 the same satisfaction that cotemporaries experience 
 the delightful effusions of this graceful bard. 
 
 That sterling production — ' 'Twill be All the Same 
 in a Hundred Years,' — which appeared originally in 
 the Dublin Telegraph, and a choice morceau from 
 the Penny Journal — ' A Brother's Lament' — are al- 
 so printed elsewhere in this number of the Miscel- 
 
 OuR Gift Pictuke. — All regular subscribers to 
 the Miscellany will have sent them this week a 
 copy of our magnificent Gift Picture. The artistic 
 merit of this work needs not to be pointed out : it 
 speaks for itself, addressing the most unpractised 
 eye. We are not mistaken in saying that a similar 
 gratuitous offering has never been issued from the 
 American Press. Our friends owe it to our enter- 
 prise and liberality, that we shall be adequately re- 
 quited. Agents will be supplied with copies of the 
 drawing ne.xt week, as it is impossible to print rap- 
 idly enough this fine plate, to meet all demands 
 for it. 
 
 Our Paper. — Whatever imperfections may ap- 
 pear in this issue of the Misckllany, must be attrib- 
 uted to the confusion incident to printing back 
 numbers. When this diificulty is overcome, we 
 hope in the mechanical department, at least, to grat- 
 ify the most exacting. But take it all in all, we 
 think the present issue of our Journal a good one, 
 and really worth the low price it is sold for. 
 
10 
 
 IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 Wrilteu lur the ilKsovlluiy. 
 HOURS AT HOME. 
 
 BV TIIOUAS 8. UONUllO, 0» IVVWALL. 
 
 God blcM lliee, Mays! Thia stiltiy nflomooD, 
 ^Vi'ur}' ■>"■' ^*<' 0' iIioukIk, I oust me down, 
 
 Ji(v<iliig, but ulucpiuK not : do kind a boou 
 Then hopi'IcKi. Like ii poor, beleuguorcd towu, 
 
 Witliiii iiiy heart wiui sorrow meeting sorrow, 
 
 Aud uouc thttt ever dr«amcd ot brighter morrotr. 
 
 1 cloiii'd mine oye«. Kow softly through the room 
 
 I lieard the cnreful steps of lier I love; 
 And pi-1'.sently there spread n pleusnnt gloom 
 
 Around nte, for tite sun stiono brlglit above, 
 Too briglit for slumber. I'roheutly 1 knew 
 tshv stood, aud gazed, iiud watched eaoh breath I drew. 
 
 Then stole awoy so tenderly— one look 
 A long and sweet uue, ns she pas.«ed the door, 
 
 Emnplng with her ucwly-opcucd book, 
 Her slow steps mounting to our chamber Uoor. 
 
 or this a part I saw, and fell n part, 
 
 For love obtcrveth, even from the heart! 
 
 Over my sorrows came the smile of peace. 
 
 As over stormy waves the sunset ray, 
 Till, less and less disturbed, at last they cease. 
 
 And calmly mirror back the golden day. 
 Over the deluge of my soul came love, 
 Itearing an olive-branch, like >toah's dove. 
 
 And then 1 loncicd brighter time, and then 
 Distinctly rope a vine-clad cottage wall, 
 
 Fardoivn the forest wiudiug of a glen, 
 Aud near the tinkling of a waterfall ; 
 
 And this was all mine own, and she was here. 
 
 Making my happy state. O doubly aear! 
 
 Aud friends were mine, good ft-iends, though only few, 
 Who shared, in sumuier days, my fragrant bower, 
 
 Or by my social hearlh, in winter, drew, 
 While verse and story sped the pensive hour. 
 
 Kot far the city lay : at Sabbath time, 
 
 Over tke hills, we heard the church-bells chime! 
 
 What merry parties on the grassy plain! 
 
 What rambling ride.i among the bending trees! 
 Often with Irienda, but oil, and oil again. 
 
 Only dear Mave and I; the perfumed breeze 
 Waving her auburn curls, as, gladsomely, 
 Her proud steed bounded on, so wild and free! 
 
 On sprang our steeds, through sun and checkered shade, 
 Down the green vale aud up the gentle hill. 
 
 Or instantly, in full career, obeyed, 
 Aud stood with arching necks, waiting our will! 
 
 Dismounting, then we rested by a spring. 
 
 Drank the cool tide, and heard the linnet sing: 
 
 And watched the brood oak leaves that whirliog fell ; 
 
 And through the forest vista looked alar, 
 Talked quietly, and, loving all things well, 
 
 Came slowly homeward 'neatli the evening star; 
 To pass, perchance, the early hours of night 
 With books that made the very darkness light! 
 
 We lived not for ourselves alone : we taught 
 Wiiate'cr of wisdom and of good we knew. 
 
 And our reward was— only this we sought— 
 The gratelul smile that often met our view. 
 
 The consciousness that children loved us more, 
 
 And old men, entering, blessed our cottage door! 
 
 In the lone forest sometimes would I stray, 
 And mid the inspirationc breathing there, 
 
 Would let my thoughts pursue their music way, 
 Singing of all things bouutiful and fair; 
 
 Trusting they sliould exist, and oft be read, 
 
 When he who wrote them slumbered with the dead. 
 
 Again, when desolate the wintry scene. 
 In the small book-room would we sit together. 
 
 Where some sweet page preserved our own world green, 
 EDChauling il beyond all gloomy weather: 
 
 Or, also there, would come the lightsome rhyme. 
 
 With which our hearts, forever young, kept time! 
 
 And this— I know not how it wos— was now; 
 
 We were not old, but looking forward yet 
 Right trustfully, with calm, exalted brow 
 
 To many joys, before our sun should set, 
 Kor fearing loss of all ; when sank that light : 
 Do not the sUrs shine out to bless the uight.' 
 
 Such were my fancies, and the sweetest still 
 Were those that pictured her conliding soul, 
 
 Faithful and kind, confronting every ill; 
 And, where her tenderness could not control, 
 
 Sootliing and cheering, by ber angel love. 
 
 Farting the cloud, revealing heaven above! 
 
 Her smiling face!- 1 woke! It was before me. 
 
 Smiling as I beUeld II In my sleep: 
 And as so lovingly 'twas bonding o'er me, 
 
 I gnzed, I smiled; thou could not choose but weep. 
 My strength returned, the storm that darkly lowered 
 ■tolled back, by Love's omcipolcnce o'erpowered! 
 
 WALKS AND TALKS. 
 
 BY VERNO.N. 
 
 ^As I walked by myself, 
 I talked to myself. 
 
 And thus n)>self said to me.' 
 
 Somctirat's I use the legs of a horse to add dis- 
 tance and delight to my ' walks.' 
 
 — 1 like a solitary ride. 
 
 There is pleasure in thus wandering among the 
 shady woods, along paths seldom trodden, or wliere 
 no paths exist ; studying the many forms and tints 
 of the foliage, the flowers and the rock.s — making 
 hoart-pieturcs of them all. Or, dismounting on a 
 brce/.e-visitcd hill, to_ rest, and look over the land- 
 scape, till it gradually melts into a dream, and I am 
 neither where nor what I am. 
 
 A leaf falls on my face. 
 
 Now I observe that the sun is going down ; and 
 so resume my ramble. 
 
 A brook, rnnning among the rocks in a cool vale, 
 tempts me. The tall trees, like the guardian angels 
 of the ark, bend over its sacred beauty. 
 
 I follow the brook. 
 
 Hero it presents a little lake, reflecting the bushes, 
 vines and flowers of its emerald border ; here the 
 water takes a sportive leap, and murmurs its en- 
 joyment. Ah, sweet one, I see and share it. I 
 will stop and talk with thee awhile ; and what thou 
 sayest to me, I will tell again, in verse, to all who 
 can love thee and me. More than this, and to ac- 
 company this, I will show with my pencil how 
 pleasant was thy look when I met thee in the 
 woods : — 
 
 *And many who know not thy face, 
 Shall know that it is fair !' 
 
 — I like a ride in company. 
 
 With friends — those who can appreciate the sen- 
 timent, the soul of nature, as well as the form. 
 
 The party will not be large. 
 
 Hut two may be company — and often are the 
 best — while, for true pleasure, 1 would never wish 
 many — never a crowd. 
 
 Slowly riding beneath the trees, we converse mer- 
 rily — we sing — we are silent and thoughtful — we 
 are whatever our mood may suggest : a nameless 
 electricity of sympathy passing from each to each, 
 and constantly exchanging signals. Then silence 
 itself is not the dull, dead thing it is so often deem- 
 ed, but a ' delicate Ariel,' swift of wing, and dis- 
 pensing delicious fancies. 
 
 Or, on the level, winding road, where, alternate- 
 ly, sunshine and shadow rest, and never much of 
 either, (thy image, life.!) our horses leap gallantly 
 on, 'devouring the earth.' We breast the rushing 
 air ; we brave it, we battle through it ! We are 
 not of the world: we arc a band of flying spirits ! 
 What can resist us. Now and then brother looks 
 in the face of brother, and reads liberty ! happiness ! 
 — and himself becomes more free, more blest ! 
 Now is no need of speech : a glance is a glossary. 
 
 Our gladness is complete. 
 
 Is it so ? 
 
 Beautiful is a summer day, though its sky be 
 clouded ; nevertheless, the sun would render it 
 more charming ! Lovely is the summer night, with 
 stars : — but lo ! the glory of the rising moon ! 
 
 Shall I omit— 
 
 A gallop with the girls ? 
 
 — liemember, good friends, that th; sublime Ju- 
 piter himself, high seated on Olympus, knew not 
 felicity till the riant llebe, goddess of youth, stood 
 by his throne, presenting the golden cup of nec- 
 tar!— 
 
 And now, indeed, may we exclaim : 'Eureka !' 
 
 Dear girls, never did your eyes shine brighter, 
 or tongues move faster, or laughter sound more 
 melodiously I How the breeze fans your animated 
 faces ! . Hoses bloom on your soft cheeks, disposses- 
 sing the lily. 
 
 I have sketched the ride solitary, the ride in com- 
 pany, and the gallop with the girls ; showing what 
 pleasure each of the three modes offers; but yester- 
 day all were combined in one long ride — to the 
 Great Falls of the Potomac. 
 
 Before the sun rose, in the slillness and coolness 
 and sweetness of the morning, I stood on the porch 
 of Ivy wall, waiting for — 
 
 John Savage, who, being my near neighbor, camc° 
 first. He was mounted on an active-looking steed 
 and strong, young, lively and, doubtless, of a right 
 poetical disposition, — who would : 
 
 Share with his lord the pleasure and the pride !' 
 
 Leading his horse in company with mine, where 
 they immediately proceeded to touch noses and ex- 
 change opinions as to the contemplated journey, 
 John entered the gate, cordially exclaiming : 'Ben- 
 edicte !' To which, of course, Vernon appropri- 
 ately added : 
 
 * Wliat early tongue so sweet saluteth me ?' 
 Before my friend could reach the porch, he was 
 stopped by a clattering on the street, and, turning, 
 saw a mighty rider on a fierce charger, impetuous- 
 ly advancing. The rider was Alexander, (Dimitry,) 
 who now, as he sat aloft, showed royally, his Her- 
 culean form being in good keeping with the stal- 
 wart Bucephalus. Halting, jVle.xander raised his 
 salutary beaver, well worn by the courteous fingers, 
 and with that peculiar beamy smile which one can 
 see, at times, running round his usually serious 
 lips, brightening as it flies, like sunlight chasing 
 from a pleasant view the shadow of a cloud, siiid : 
 
 which, being translated, signifies — something ele- 
 gant, and similar to 'top-o' the morning!' 
 
 'Ila, Jack !' — thus spoke the Knight of the Beam- 
 ing Countenance, grasping, vice-like, the hand of 
 the gentle Savage, and 'Vernon, my son!" letting 
 the sinister manus descend, with a ponderous bles- 
 sing on the shoulder of Ivywall's little lord — 'A 
 morning for the god's ! — But answer me, my sons: 
 Where's Ion ?' 
 
 The question was unnecessary : Deliberately 
 drawn by Kitty, Ion approached, and ' .spoke for 
 himself.' 
 
 With tragic air, and elevated arm, Alexander 
 stood before the great correspondent, and in the 
 words of Richard the Third, demanded: 
 
 'Who saw ' The Sun ' to-day ":' 
 
 Ion smiled his placid smile, and nothing more of 
 the sun was thought of. 
 
 Next came a group of girls on horseback — a joy- 
 ous company ; then another group of girls ; then 
 carriages, with more girls; and then amental count 
 was undertaken, the result of which proved that 
 each male could be mated. Ion had made no choice 
 of the fair : it was hard to choose : perhaps he was 
 debating the subject, and recalling authorities from 
 the time of Paris : — when one — her eyes sparkling, 
 and with an active bound, — leaped from a carriage, 
 and shouted musically : 
 
 ' I go with Ion !' 
 
 Ion also leaped down, with marvelous agility — a 
 youth again ! — and met the damsel, and, as a moat 
 precious thing, as she was, placed her where he 
 should — 
 
 ' Hear and see her all the while. 
 Fondly speak and sweetly smile!' 
 
 Now all was arranged : the provisions were se- 
 curely packed — the wine-bottles wouldn't break — 
 notliing could go wrong. 
 
 The march began. 
 
 Away dashed the gentle Savage, accompanied by 
 the ever-charming Avonia ; Vcmon, with a fair 
 companion, unkno mi to fame, cantered after ; Alex- 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 11 
 
 andcr (who, so Southernly-courteous nnd so win- 
 ning a lover of tlic bcnutiful, had inamiged to carry 
 oif the ' queen of the goodlie coiiipanic !') rode next, 
 like Mara attended by Venus. The carriages follow- 
 ed soberly, and Kitty more sobei^' still, though 
 bearing many bottles and a brace of demijohns. 
 
 The rising sun lighted ijp quaint old Georgetown, 
 as we hurried over its lonely streets ; the sun stole 
 in and out among the trees and hills and vales of 
 the romantic College-grounds beyond the town ; the 
 sun was brighter and warmer on the broad road by 
 the dazzling river : but still we went on — or halted 
 — or some wandered into the woods — some talked 
 — some sang— and some only looked — yet how much 
 those looks expressed ! 
 
 I cannot repeat the pleasant conversation ; I can- 
 not describe the ever-varying scenery by the way 
 — its succession of forests, hills, dales, rocks, fields 
 and streams, I can only add : We arrived at the 
 Falls. 
 
 The girls repaired to upper rooms in the log- 
 hotel, near the river, where we may imagine the 
 restoration of curls, collars, and robes. We, the 
 lords of creation, threw ourselves majestically down 
 on the grass, under trees, sipped wine, puffed cigars, 
 talked lazily, and waited for the descent of the 
 angels. 
 
 More bright and beautiful than ever, the girls re- 
 appeared ; and our party proceeded on foot through 
 an avenue of trees, garlanded with vines and flow- 
 ers, to the Falls. 
 
 Presently, clambering over the rocks, the grand 
 scene suddenly burst on the sight ! * * * 
 * 4f * * * * 
 
 But who can describe the rush, the whirl, the 
 foam, the spray of water ? How it bounded from 
 rock to rock, restless and powerful ! How its 
 thunder filled the air, so that those who stood near 
 each other could not hear the loudest tone of voice ! 
 Precipices of moss-grown, tree-crowned rocks were 
 on every side. All was wild, confused, sublime. 
 Various points of view increased the pleasure and 
 the wonder of the prospect. Long the party lin- 
 gered, seated in the shade. Each rejoiced in the 
 journey's reward. A day of happiness ! A day to 
 be remembered ! 
 
 We dined on the green, near the Falls. The 
 grand trees were our canopy, and the waters made 
 organ-like music. But we enjoyed other music, too: 
 the sweet voices of maidens, accompanied by gui- 
 - tars; the classic, sonorous songs of Dimitry, in 
 
 which the torrent waves of his strong soul rolled 
 and reveUed ; and the acted songs of our protean 
 Savage, closing with that wonder of verse and mu- 
 sic and diablerie, the Temptation of Saint Anthony. 
 Alexander could not refrain from joining the re- 
 frain, though at the risk of drowning it — nor from 
 imitating the ' good Saint' in keeping his eyes — 
 
 ' So firmly fixed upon his book ' — 
 during the various temptations — nor from rolling 
 them gloriously upward when : 
 
 'A laughing woman, with two bright eyes— 
 0, she is the greatest devil of all !'— 
 
 conquers at last ! Ion forgot his political gravity. 
 He strode over the grass. In his enthusiasm, he 
 rubbed his hands, and raised his arms aloft in air. 
 He performed sundry singular gesticulations. 
 
 The pet dog, ' in shining sable, touched with 
 tan' — the astonished 'Dandy,' barked at him ! 
 
 Down goes the gorgeously-clouded sun. AVe lin- 
 ger to gaze on his departing ; and we proudly tell 
 him that our pleasure does not wait on his pleas- 
 ure, for yonder shines the golden moon, to light us 
 home '. 
 
 The horses, refreshed, paw the ground, impa- 
 tiently. 
 
 ' Is all right ■' 
 
 'Arrange my robe.' 
 
 ' Yes, there it is — that's mine !' 
 
 'Avonia I' 
 
 ' Jack, my boy ! How is't with thee r' 
 
 ' Where's Ion ? I've lost Ion !' 
 
 'Why, Mary: of course he's coming — there's 
 Dandy !' 
 
 'Vernon's gone ! see ! see !' 
 
 ' O, look at the moon !' 
 
 ' Look at the road !' 
 
 'Listen! We hear the Falls yet !' 
 
 — But soon the rush of the waters faded in the 
 dark distance, as we hurried through the woods, 
 teaching their gloomy recesses unaccustomed sounds 
 and laughter. 
 
 The night was happier than the morning. 
 
 Lights ! 
 
 The lights of Georgetown : Now we pass again 
 the College garden ; now over the noisy, noisy 
 streets : — and now the echoing bridge — the Ave- 
 nue — the President's — 
 
 To the north — march ! 
 
 ' Have we not done bravely ? we have ridden 
 forty miles !' 
 
 ' There's your castle, Vernon.' 
 
 Quiet and cozy among the leaves — like a bird in 
 its nest ! We'll wake it ! Come ! 
 
 Written for the Miscellany. 
 NOTES FROM A JOURNAL. 
 
 ET J. E. r. 
 No. 8. ^Environs of Limerick. 
 
 There are many places of interest and beauty in the 
 vicinity of Limerick. Some few miles west of the city, 
 stands the ruined castle of Carrigogunnel, or the Rock 
 of the Candle. This castle is the subject of many a 
 story and legend, and Gerald Griffin chooses it for the 
 theme of one of his most interesting stories. It was 
 here we spent a pleasant day, listening with interest to 
 its history, from an old man whose forefather had 
 lived in the cottage at its base. How it derives its 
 name it is impossible, almost, to tell, so numerous and 
 conflicting are the stories of the candle. One version, 
 as told me, is nearly as follow.? : — 
 
 At one time there lived in this castle an old witch, 
 who vowed vengeance on the human race. It was her 
 custom to place a lighted candle on the highest point 
 of the castle, and whoever happened to see the light, 
 was immediately struck dead. St. Patrick happened 
 to come along one night on the other side of thu 
 river, and fieling thirsty, went into a house and asked 
 for a drink. While drinking, he noticed that the man 
 who opened the door had been struck dead by the fatal 
 candle, so he immediately turned round and blew it 
 out, and the old witch was never able to light it ajjain. 
 
 Some of the peasants at present tell you that when 
 night throws her sable mantle over Carrigogunnel, the 
 ' good people ' hold their revels on the rock ; and should 
 a person be so unfortunate, or fortunate, rather, as to 
 be found there in the dark, he will he compelled to 
 stay all night and partake of their hospitality. It is a 
 pity that I can't believe this, for if 1 did, I should cer- 
 tainly make one among the fairies to-night, and there 
 would not be much need of compulsion, provided the 
 ' wittles ' were good. 
 
 The castle is built on a high rock, and when on top 
 of the castle the beholder sees before him a panorama, 
 seldom equalled in nature. At its base courses the 
 lordly Shannon, lined on both sides by the splendid 
 residences of the 'solid men ' of Limerick ; while the 
 river itself is filled with countless crafts, plying up and 
 down, and ever and anon the puffing and blowing of 
 the ICdrush steamer is heard, giving variety to the 
 .scene. Far in the distance, you can trace the dim out- 
 line of the Kerry Mountains, mingling, as it were, with 
 the clouds. On your right are fields of waving corn, 
 tinged with the rich, golden color of harvest, ititer- 
 spersed with fields clothed in their rich mantle of 
 green. To judge from the huge masses of stone and 
 mortar which have rolled to the bottom of the rock, it 
 must have been some trouble to its destroyers, and it 
 
 took not a small share of powder to level it to its pres- 
 ent state. The outer wall, of which a part is yet re- 
 maining, is wide enough on top tor a coach-and-four to 
 be driven on. The whole ruin now covers some two 
 or three acres. 
 
 Another pleasant day was spent at castle Connell, . 
 some seven miles from the city. On the road leading 
 to this town wo passed some beautiful demesnes and 
 residences, and the proprietors seem to vie with each 
 other in ornamenting their ground. The ruined castle 
 here is but a pile of rocks, and like that at Carrigogun- 
 nel, huge masses of stone and mortar are scattered 
 about at some distance. It is said that at the time of 
 its destruction, the report occasioned by the quantity 
 of powder used, broke the windows in Limerick, seven 
 miles distant I 
 
 The rapids on the Shannon at this place, are beau- 
 tiful, and procuring a boat, we were rowed to the oth- 
 er side, a few rods above them. There were many 
 disciples of Isaak Walton playing with hook and line 
 here, occasionally getting a bite. 
 
 After crossing to the Clare side of the river, we 
 stopped awhile at a ruined turret, in a picturesque 
 spot, from the top of which the visitor has a glance at 
 another of these exquisite pictures of nature, scarcely 
 anywhere to be found but in the Green Isle variegated 
 landscape, embracing here and there no less than seven 
 ruined castles, any of which alone would be a fit sub- 
 ject for a painter. 
 
 It being early when we returned to Limerick, we 
 hired a post-car to visit another edifice, — Bunratty Cas- 
 tle, said to be the oldest in Clare. Part of this castle 
 is covered in, and is now used as a police-barrack. 
 The stoiyof its being haunted, I believe to be true; for 
 the ancient kingly owners of it must rise from their 
 graves and haunt these 'Peeler's' for turning it to so 
 base a use. Getting inside, we were puzzled for some 
 'ime to reach the top, so numerous are its intricacies 
 and windings. On a large stone on top, we saw the 
 figures '1397,' although the castle is probably much 
 older. In one room the plastering on the wall partial- 
 ly remains, and figures of men in armor, animals, de- 
 vices, &c., could be seen in a kind of stucco-work. 
 From this flag-staft' floats the cursed Union Jack, 
 which, but for the 'Peeler' at our side, would be made 
 'stripes' of, and you would undoubtedly see 'stars' 
 through it, by the aid of a jack-knife in the possession 
 of my fellow-tourist. 
 
 Leaving Bumatty, we passed by Drumoland, the 
 seat of Sir Lucius O'Biien, brother of the disinterested 
 and noble patriot, William Smith O'Brien. It was 
 yet early when we reached Ennis, the county-town of 
 Clare, so well known on account of its being the place 
 where the election was held, in 1^28, that sent 0' Con- 
 nell to Parliament, thus striking the first blow to- 
 wards Catholic Emancipation. It is an ancient town, 
 with narrow streets, and a population of 6000. About 
 a mile from rhe town, near the Fergus River; stands 
 the ancient Abbey of Ennis, built in the year 1277. 
 This is a fine ruin, destroyed by Cromwell. It is built 
 in the chastest style of Gothic architecture. The long 
 windows, divided by stone mullions, the delicate car- 
 ving and other architectural ornaments, bespeak the 
 age and expense bestowed upon this beautiful abbey. 
 Connected with the abbey is a graveyard, and there 
 are quaint inscriptions on some of the tombstones. 
 The following is a literal translation of one of these: — 
 'Underneath these carved marble stones, 
 Lieth Conor O'Flanigan's body and bones; 
 Which monument was made hy Anabel his wife, 
 Who lived with liim twenty years of his life.' 
 The date of this is 1G44, making it 214 years since 
 Conor was put under these 'stones,' and his loving 
 Aniibel 'made' them. Re-entering Ennis, we hauled 
 up at Carraody's Hotel, and to-morrow go on a short 
 visit to the 'wilds of Clare.' 
 
 An Athenian who lacked eloquence, but was a brave 
 and capable man, li-tencd to his rival's eloquent speech, 
 and then said, 'Men of Athens, all that ho said, I will 
 do.' Wu have not a few in our tiroes who say much 
 more than they do. 
 
12 
 
 IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 (From the Dublin Nation.) 
 AN IRISH LEGISLATURE. 
 
 We said lust week that the only mcansof oflTectinga 
 real anJ permanent improvement in the condition of 
 IreliHul lio.i in a Native Legislature. The triilli of the 
 proposition has been aflirmed over and over again by 
 the Irish peoplo in the fare of the world. Assembled 
 in hundreds of thousands on Irish phiins and hill- 
 sides, with one loud and solemn voice they spoke that 
 Credo, and vowed to act in accordance with it. But a 
 sickness nearly mortal fell upon the land, and the 
 Btrcngih wasted from her limbs, and memory seemed 
 to have fled her brain for ever. Many who witnessed 
 the events of that period arc here today to testify to 
 them, and the facts arc written too deeply in the 
 world's history ever to be blotted out. 
 
 By the twdside of the snftercr then stood the nation 
 against whose might she had contended, not fer an un- 
 worthy object, and not with foul weapons, and that 
 nation smiled to see her pain, and gloried in her weak- 
 ness, she grudged the morsels of food that went to 
 sustain her life, and added insult to the drink that wet 
 her lips, and when death seemed near at hand she 
 raised her voice and boasted loudly that the country 
 which had plaogcd her so long for her plundered 
 rights and liberties was down — down at last. 
 
 But the wasted and weakened one did not die. The 
 trial wae a severe one, but she passed it through ; she 
 arose again from her bed of pain^and slowly but sure- 
 ly her strength returned. Now her cruel enemy con- 
 gratulates her, but hopes that she has indeed forgolten; 
 asks that she will think no more of that which former- 
 ly seemed to be so dear to her ; ank expects that for 
 the future she will play the drudge contentedly. Wc 
 believe that her heart is unchanged, that her spirit is 
 unbroken, and we hope to see her soon again plant- 
 ing, and toiling, and battling her way to Freedom. 
 
 If during the long period of Ireland's prostration 
 and inaction a large share of the rights for which she 
 had struggled so emergetically had been conceded, we 
 can understaud how we might now adopt another poli- 
 cy without dishonor, and how men might say that the 
 further portion of those rights would probably be ob- 
 tained in due time without any great national effort 
 and without any special organization. But there has 
 been no concession, there is no change to our benefit 
 in the political relations between Ireland and England 
 since the period when we declared with such remark- 
 able emphasis that those relations were unjust and in- 
 tolerable. We are now as we were then over-taxed 
 and insufficiently represented, now as then our national 
 resources are undeveloped, our harbors are empty, and 
 trade of every sort is being more and more withdrawn 
 from us, now as then we arc burdened with an over 
 proportion of England's debt, our revenues are applied 
 to purposes in which wc have no concern, our blood 
 and money are being squandered to preserve and ex- 
 tend a tyranny which we have no sympathy, to force 
 on the world manufacturers from whiih we derive no 
 benefit, and to make great the name of the very people 
 who insult and oppress us. It is unnecessary to dwell 
 on this point — the fact is patent — nothing has been 
 done to alter the grounds on which our claim to Legis- 
 lative Independence was put forward ten or fifteen 
 years ago. The necessity which was then so distinctly 
 recognized is stiil in existence, and the arguments by 
 which the Irish people supported their demands have 
 not been in the least invalidated. 
 
 But we know some faint-hearted friends will re- 
 mark that the great efforts already made for the re- 
 covery of Ireli^nd's independence failed to effect 
 their object, and therefrom perhaps they will con- 
 clude that future efforts must be equally unsuccess- 
 ful. Such conclusion, however, is not at all war- 
 ranted ; a moment's reflection will show the absur- 
 dity of such a line of argument. Every living man 
 has seen successes achieved after repeated failures ; 
 history is full of instances of the kind. If all cir- 
 cumstances were to remain the same, if the world 
 had come to a dead stand stUl, probably like efforts 
 would be attended with like results, but we cannot 
 
 sec that anything like this hag occurred. A great 
 change has come over the aspect of all affairs in 
 which the British Empire is concerned, and it is 
 still progressing. The future ia pregnant with grand 
 events. We may, if we chose, turn these circum- 
 stances to our ttUvantngc. A few years ago Eng- 
 land could afford to defy our active hostility, now 
 a merely passive resistance on our part woulil prove 
 her ruin ; ten years ago England, idle and full of 
 bread, could mock at our demands, could fill our 
 coutry with troops, and threaten to drown our 
 fields in blood — now if our might were organized 
 as it should be, she would not dare to offer us in- 
 sult, but would readily grant much more than we 
 asked for on occasions when she spurned us with 
 indignity. Our power is intact and undiminished, 
 it may yet be used more effectively even if it should 
 be in a less showy manner than it has been, but the 
 power of England, we repeat, has declined. Her 
 weakness is well known to other nations and to her- 
 self. At this moment she presents a miserable spec- 
 tacle to the world — bleeding, panting and vainly 
 struggling with a distant people who have rebelled 
 against her sway, and shrinking up and shrieking 
 whenever the ruler of a neighboring nation as much 
 as points his finger at her. We would do well now 
 to gather up our strength again and show our readi- 
 ness to avail of the existing and the forthcoming 
 opportunities. God, it has well been said, reaches 
 us many favors, by our own hands — shall we not 
 as much as stretch out our hands for those He has 
 placed so nigh to us ? 
 
 All things considered, the time has come when the 
 patriotism of Ireland should re-assert itself. We be- 
 lieve tho young men of Ireland are willing and will be 
 proud to accept the duties, and, if need be, the dangers 
 of the position to which they have succeeded ; we be- 
 lieve they do not intend to let that struggle which, how- 
 ever ineffectual it may have proved, is still, in the 
 midst of such circumstances as have surrounded it, a 
 glory and an honor to the Irish race, die out with their 
 fathers. Wise and good men — tried and true friends 
 of Ireland — are yet amongst us, to aid and guide us, to 
 present to the young band the glorious old colors, and 
 to demonstrate, by their presence, the perfect continuity 
 of the struggle. All over Ireland, into its remotest 
 parts, there are gallant hearts, yonng and old, an.xious 
 to set the good work going ; the people and the press 
 are ready for it — the initiative alone is wanting. May 
 we hope that the friends of Ireland will not remain 
 longer scattered abroad without cohesion or connec- 
 tion, but will soon meet together, and, calmly, and de- 
 liberately, directed by experience gained from the past, 
 in accordance with the circumstances of the present, 
 and with due thought and care for the future, lay broad 
 and deep the foundation of anew Irish organization. 
 
 A movement has already been made in this direc- 
 tion. Dr. Cane of Kilkenny, a patriot long and hon- 
 orably known 'to his country, has opened the sub- 
 ject in the pages of the Celt. He has entered into 
 communication with many of the most trusted men 
 in Ireland, and many excellent Irishmen in foreign 
 lands on the subject, and he has been assured that 
 the materials for such an organization will be forth- 
 coming. We willingly unite our efforts with his. 
 We do not stay to inquire whether the purposes of 
 the proposed organization will, in every respect, 
 come up to our views ; we know we can go a certain 
 way together,_ and, therefore, we give the project 
 our hearty support. We support it, and we recom- 
 mend it ; for we desire to see again in Ireland some 
 organization thinking and working for Ireland; 
 teaching a sound political doctrine to our people, 
 counteracting the efforts made by our enemies to 
 provincialise our country materially and in spirit, 
 combating the low and slavish opinions which those 
 who profit by our degradation seek to propagate 
 amongst us — some association which will strike and 
 keep up the key-note of a manly policy, which will 
 remind us by its very presence of what we should 
 aspire to. and stimulate us to honorable exertion, 
 and, at the same time, be as a sign to England and 
 to all countries that Ireland is not contented in her 
 abasemcment, does not accept the yoke which has 
 been fastened on her, but still desires, and claims, 
 and struggles for — her perfect right— a native Gov- 
 [ emment, and the position of a Nation amongst the 
 Nations. 
 
 JOHN SHAW. 
 
 DY J. FBNIMORK CUOPEB. 
 
 Among the many brave Irishman who, first and last, 
 have manifested tfciir courage, and shown how strong 
 is the sympathy between the people of their native is- 
 land and this country, the subject of this sketch is en- 
 titled to occupy a highly hoiiorable place. There was 
 a short period, indeed, when his name and services 
 stood second to none on the list of gallant seamen with 
 which the present navy of the republic commenced its 
 brilliant career. Those whose memories extend as far 
 back as tho commencemenf of the century, and who 
 are familiar with naval events, will readily recall how 
 often they were required to listen to his success and 
 his deeds. 
 
 The family of John Shaw was of English origin. — 
 In 1790, however, his grandfather, an officer in tho 
 commissariat of King William's army, passed into 
 Ireland, on service, where he appears to hare married 
 and established himself. The son, who was the father 
 of our subject, served as an officer in the fourth regi- 
 ment of heavy horse, on the Irish establishment. He 
 was actively and creditably employed with his regi- 
 ment in the war of '6G, serving no less than four years 
 in Germany. During this time he was present at sev- 
 eral battles, including that of Mindcn. In 1763, this 
 gentleman returned to Ireland, shortly after marrying 
 Elizabeth Barton, of Kilkenna. In 1779, he quitted 
 the army altogether, retiring to a farm The family 
 of Barton, like that of Shaw, was also English, and 
 had come into Ireland with the army with which 
 Cromwell invaded that country, in 1649. 
 
 John Shaw was bom at Mt. Mellick, Queen's coun- 
 ty, Ireland, in the year 1773, or, while his father was 
 still in the army. There were several older children, 
 and the family becoming numerous, his education was 
 limited, from necessity, to such as could be obtained at 
 a country school, of the ordinary character. The 
 means of providing for so many children early, occa- 
 picd the father's thoughts, and at the proper time, the 
 matter was laid fairly before two of the older sons, for 
 their own consideration. One of these sons was John. 
 This occurred in 1790, when the lad was in his seven- 
 teenth year. The father recommended America as the 
 most promising theatre for their future exertions ; the 
 advice agreeing with the inclinations of l\e youths, 
 John and an elder brother sailed for New York, which 
 port they reached in December of the same year. Af- 
 ter remaining a short time in New York, the subject 
 of our sketch proceeded to Philadelphia, then the po- 
 litical capital and largest town of the infant republic. 
 Here he delivered various letters of introduction, when 
 he determined to push his fortunes on the ocean, of 
 which he had had a taste in the passage out. 
 
 In March, 1791, young Shaw sailed for the East In- 
 dies, being then nearly eighteen years of age. The 
 destination of the ship was, in truth, China, all those 
 distant seas going, in the parlance of seamen, under 
 the general name of the Indies. The first voyage ap- 
 pears to have produced no event of any particular in- 
 terest. It served, however, to make the youth familiar 
 with his new profession, and to open the way to pre- 
 ferment. In the intq'vals between his voyages to 
 Canton, of which he seems to have made four in the 
 next si.v years, he was occupied in improving himself, 
 and serving in counting-houses as a clerk. On the 
 second voyage, the ship he was in, the Sampson, was 
 attacked by a number of Malay prows, during a calm. 
 This occurred in tho Straits of Banca, and in the night. 
 The attack appears to have been vigorous and the sit- 
 uation of the vessel critictl. Notwithstanding she kept 
 up so brisk a fire from four six-pounders as to compel 
 several of her assailants to haul off, to repair their 
 damages. A breeze coming, the Sampson was brought 
 under command, and soon cleared herself from her en- 
 emies, who ran for the island of Boneo. This was the 
 first occasion on which Shaw met with real service. 
 
 While on shore, young Shaw had joined that well- 
 known body of irrigular volunteers, known as the 
 Macpherson Blues. This corps was probably, when 
 Its size is considered, the most respectable, as regards 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 13 
 
 efficiency, discipline, appearance, and the characters 
 of its members, that ever existed in the country. Sev- 
 eral hundred of the most respectable young men of 
 Philadelphia were in its ranks, and many of tlie more 
 distinguished citizens did not disdain its service. It 
 volunteered in 1794, to march against the insurgents 
 in western Pennsylvania, young Shaw shouldering his 
 kit and his musket with the rest. The troops did not 
 return to Philadelphia until the close of the year, hav- 
 ing marched early in the autumn. 
 
 [jAn anecdote is related of one of the ' citizen-sol- 
 diers ' in this expedition, which is worthy of being re- 
 corded. The person referred to was a German by 
 birth, of the name of Koch, and was well known in 
 Philadelphia, in his day, as a large out-door underwri- 
 ter. He died some ten or twelve years since, in Paris, 
 whither he had gone for the benefit of the climate, 
 leaving a fortune estimated at $1,200,000. Mr. Koch, 
 like young Shaw, was a private in the Macpherson 
 Blues. It fell to his lot one night to be stationed sen- 
 tinel over a baggage wagon. The weather was cold, 
 raw, stormy and wet. This set the setinel musing. — 
 Alter remaining on post half an hour, he was heard 
 calling lustily, ' Corporal of der guartz — Corporal of 
 der guartz.' The corporal came, and inquired what 
 was wanting. Koch wish %o leave a few minutes, having 
 something to say to Macperson. He was gratified, and 
 in a few minutes he stood in the presence of the general, 
 ' Well, Mr. Koch, what is your pleasure V asked Mac 
 pherson. ' Why, yeneral, I wish to know what may 
 be der value of d*t d — d wagon over which I am shen- 
 tinel !' ' How should 1 know, Koch f ' Well, somet- 
 'ing approximative — not to be particular." ' A thous- 
 and dollars, perhaps.' ' Very well, Yeneral Macpher- 
 son, I write a sheck for der money, and den I will go 
 to bets.'] 
 
 In the third of his voyages to Canton, young Shaw 
 was the third officer of the ship, and the fourth he 
 made as her first officer. This was quick preferment, 
 and furnishes pi oof in itself that his employers had 
 reason to be satisfied with his application and char- 
 acter. 
 
 Four voyages to China gave our young sailor so 
 mach professional knowledge and reputation, as to 
 procure him a vessel. Near the close of the year 1797, 
 he sailed for the West Indies, returning to Baltimore 
 ' the succeeding May. This was a moment when the 
 Ameiican trade was greatly depredated on by the 
 French privateers, and Mr. Shaw had much reason to 
 complain of the treatment he received at their hands. 
 The spring of 1 798, or the moment of his return to this 
 country, was precisely that when the armaments 
 against France were in progress, and Mr. Shaw felt 
 strongly disposed, on more aci'ounts than one, to take 
 service in the infant navy. Dale sailed in the Ganges, 
 the first vessel out, on the 22d of May, the very month 
 when the brig of Mr. Shaw reached Baltimore. 
 
 Soon after this important event an application was 
 made to the Navy Department in behalf of Mr. Shaw, 
 and being sustained by the late General Samuel Smith, 
 and other men of influence in Baltimore, he was com- 
 missioned as a lieutenant. Mr. Shaw's place on the 
 list must have been about the thirtieth, though promo- 
 tions soon raised him much nearer to the top. Rodg- 
 ers, Preble, James Barron, Bainbridge, Stewart, Hull 
 and Sterret were all above him ; while he ranked 
 Chauncey, John Smith, .Somers, Decalur, &c. At 
 this time, Mr. Shaw was five and twenty years of age. 
 
 Soon after receiving his appointment, our sulijecl 
 was ordered to join the Montezuma, 20, Capt. Alex- 
 ander Murray ; a ship brought into the service, as one 
 of the hasty equipments of the period. From the date 
 of his commission, there is not much doubt that Mr. 
 Shaw was the senior lieutenant of this vessel ; at all 
 events, if he did not hold his rank on joining her, he 
 obtained it before she had been long in service. 
 
 The Montezuma did not get to sea until November, 
 1798, when she proceeded to the West Indies, the Nor- 
 folk 18, Capt. Williams, and Retaliation 12, Lieut. 
 Com. Bainljridge, sailing in company. While cruis- 
 ing off Guadaloupe, the same month, the Americans 
 were chased by two French frigates, le Volontaire and 
 
 rinsurgente. The Retaliation was captured, and the 
 ship and brig escaped only by the address of Lieut. 
 Com. Bainbridge, who induced the French command- 
 er to recall I'lnsurgente by signal, by exaggerating the 
 force of the two Americans. The Montezuma remain- 
 ed in the West Indies, convoying and cruising, until 
 October, 1790, when she was compelled to come home 
 to get a new crew, and to nfit. This year of active 
 service in a vessel of war, added to the seamanship 
 obtained in his voyages to Canton, made Mr. Shaw a 
 good officer. Capt, Murray having come out of the 
 war of the Revolution, though only a lieutenant in 
 rank, with the reputation of being one of the most ac- 
 tive and best man-of-war's men of the service. 
 
 Our young Irishman had no reason to complain of 
 his luck in the country of his adoption. He had now 
 been at sea but nine years, and in America the same 
 time, when he found himself fairly enlisted in an hon- 
 orable service, and in the possession of very respecta- 
 able rank. His good fortune, however, did not stop 
 here. During the late cruise Mr. Shaw had won the 
 respect and regard of his commander, who was a gen- 
 tleman of highly respectable family, and who possessed 
 considerable naval influence in particular, being allied 
 to the Nicholsons, and other families of mark. — 
 Through the warm recommendations of Capt. Murray, 
 Mr. Shaw was appointed to a separate command, and 
 was at once placed in the way of carving out a name 
 for himself. 
 
 The vessel to which Lieut. Com. Shaw was appoint- 
 ed, was built on the eastern shore of Maryland, and 
 was a schooner that was pierced for twelve long sixes, 
 a species of gun that preceded the use of the light car- 
 ronades. She was called the Enterprise, and subse- 
 quently became celebrated in the service, for her ex- 
 traordinary good fortune and captures. A few years 
 later. Porter had her lengthened at Venice, and pierced 
 for two more guns, and in the end she was converted 
 into a brig, terminating her career under the late Capt. 
 Galligher, by shipwreck, in the West Indies. In the 
 course of her service, the Enterprise fought nine or 
 ten actions, in all oJ which she was either completly 
 successful, or come off with ere(^t. It was her offic- 
 ers and men, too, in a great measure, that carried the 
 Philadelphia, in the hirb.-jr of Tripoli, and Decatur's 
 own boat was manned from her, in the desperate hand- 
 to-hand conflict that occurred under the rocks before 
 that town. In one sense, she was more useful than 
 any other craft that ever sailed under the flag. 
 
 Lieut. Com. Shaw got to sea in the Enterprise, with 
 a crew of seventy-six men on board, in December, 
 1799. He proceeded to the Windward Island station. 
 In February, 1800, on his return, from Curacoa, ofl" 
 the east end of Porto Rico, Shaw fell in with the Con- 
 stellation 38, Com. Truxton, thirty-six hours after her 
 warm engagement with la Vengeance, a ship of larger 
 size, heavier and more guns, and a stronger crew. — 
 The Constellation, as is well known, had been partly 
 dismasted in the battle, and was now making the best 
 of her way to Jamaica. Com. Truxton sent the En- 
 terprise to Philadelphia with despatches, where she ar- 
 rived fifteen days later, having experienced heavy 
 gales on the coast. 
 
 Lieut. Com. Shaw left the Delaware again, in 
 March, having orders to preceed off Cape Francois 
 with dispatches for Com. Talbot. Having delivered 
 his despatches, he proceeded on to join Com. Truxton 
 at Jamaica. Off the eastern end o6the island, howav- 
 er, he fell in with an English sloop of war, and ascer- 
 tained that the Constellation had sailed for home, 
 when he immediately hauled up for St. Kitts, the ren 
 dczvous of the windward squadron. While ofl^ the 
 Mona Passage, working up toward her station, the 
 Enterprise saw a large brig to the southward and east- 
 ward, to which she gave chase, with the American en- 
 sign flying. Gaining on the chase, the latter showed 
 Spanish colors, and opened a fire on the schooner, when 
 about a mile distant. Lieut. Com. Shaw stood on. 
 keeping his luft' until he hud got well on the brig's quar- 
 ter, when, determined not to be fired on without resent- 
 ini' it, he poured in a broadside upon the Spaniard. A 
 sharp conflict ensued, the brig mounting eighteen guns, 
 
 and having heavier metal than her antagonist. After 
 exchanging their fire for twenty minutes the vessels 
 separated, without any explanations, each being seem- 
 ingly satisfied of the national character of the other. 
 This was the first affair of the gallant little Enterprise, 
 and it might be taken as a pledge of the spirit with 
 which she was to be sailed and fought, during the twen- 
 ty succeeding years. Both vessels suffered materially 
 in this combat, though little was said of it, even at the 
 time, and it appears not to have led to any political 
 dissention. The American went into St. Thomas to 
 refit. 
 
 In the port of St. Thomas there happened to be ly- 
 ing, at the time, a large French Lugger, that mounted 
 twelve guns, and is said to have had a craw of a hun- 
 dred souls on board. The commander of this lugger 
 sent a civil message to Lieut. Shaw, naming an Bonr 
 when he should be pleased to make a trial of strength 
 in the offing. As soon as this proposal was mentioned 
 to the crew of the American schooner, it was accepted 
 with three cheers, and the enemy was duly apprised of 
 the fact. 
 
 At the time named in the challenge, Lieat. Shaw 
 got under way, and stood into the offiing. Here he 
 hove-to, waiting for his antagonist to come out. Ob- 
 serving that the lugger did not lift her anchor, he fired 
 a shot in the direction of the harbor. This signal was 
 repeated several times, during the remainder of the 
 day without producing any eflFeet. After dark, the 
 Enterprise bore up, and ran down to leeward of St. 
 Croix, where she continued cruising for several days; 
 during which time she captured a small letter-of- 
 marque, and carried her into St. Kitts. 
 
 After filling up his water and provisions, Lieut. 
 Com. Shaw sailed again immediately. A day or two 
 out, or in May, 1800, he fell in with, and brought to 
 action a French privateer schooner, called la Seine, 
 armed with four guns, and having a complement of 
 fifty-four men. The combat was short, but exceeding- 
 ly spirited, the Frenchman making a most desperate 
 resistance. He did not yield until he had twenty-four 
 of his crew killed and wounded, and his sails and 
 rigging cut to pieces. The Enterprise had a few men 
 hurt also. The prize was manned and sent into St, 
 Kitts. 
 
 The Enterprise next went off Porto Rico. Hero 
 Lieut. Com. Shaw heard that two American mariners 
 were sentenced to death for having killed two French- 
 men in an attempt to recapture their vessel. These 
 seamen had been twice taken to the place of execution 
 and reprieved, suffering, in addition to this cruel 
 trifling, much in tho way ot ordinary treatment. In 
 the struggle in which the Frenchmen fell, they had ac- 
 tually succeeded, but were recaptured before they 
 could reach a pore. Shortly after the Enterprise went 
 into St. Kitts, when Lieut. Shaw made knorni the 
 ituatiou of these captives to the American agent for 
 prisoners, and an abortive attempt was made to obtai 
 their release. The affair was not finally disposed of 
 however, before rhe Enterprise sailed on another 
 cruise. 
 
 Lieut. Com. Shaw now passed between Antigua and 
 Desirade, where he made a large three-masted French 
 lugger, which he immediately recognised as the vessel 
 that had sent him the challenge at ^St. Thomas. The 
 Enterprise closed in expectation of an engagement, 
 but, after exchanging a few shot, the lugger hauled 
 down her colors. This vessel proved to be the same 
 as that which had sent the challenge, and from the 
 feebleness of her resistance, in connection with the other 
 circumstances, we are left to suppose some artifice led 
 to her defiance. On board the prize were several offi- 
 cers of the French army, one of whom proved to be of 
 the rank of a mnjor-general. The Enterprise went 
 into St. Kitts with the lugger, and no sooner did she 
 arrive than Lieut. Com. Shaw put the general and a 
 captain in close confinement, as hostages for the secu- 
 rity of the two condemned Americans. Care was 
 taken to let this fact be known at Guadalope, and it 
 had iis influence. 
 
 In the mean time Com. Truxton arrived on the 
 station, and ho supported Mr. Shaw in what he ha,j 
 
u 
 
 IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 done. Matters now looked so serious that the pjnernl 
 asked perniUaion (o be sent, on his pitrole, to Gaadn- 
 leupe, to arniiiLje ilicdilKeulir in person, ilis rv<|uest 
 was grained, and, wiiliin the month, ho returned, 
 brini^ingr buck the liberated Americans in his company. 
 Wr. Shaw's spirit and decision obtained for liim mneh 
 credit with the nulliorities of the period, and wen? 
 doubtless the means of saving two brave men much 
 additional sutTerin);, if not ignominious deaths. 
 
 While the afl'air of the condemned mariners was in 
 progress, Lieut. Com. Shaw did not keep his schooner 
 idle in port. She had now become a favorite little 
 cruiser, and was seldom at anchor longer than was 
 necessary to rvpair damai^es, or take in supplies. In 
 June she was cruising to leeward of Guaduloupe, when 
 she fell in with another privateer called I'Aigle; a very 
 fosc'and destructive cruiser, of nearly the Enterprise's 
 force, as she carried ten guns, and hud seventy-eight 
 men on board. I.'Aiglo hud cut up both the English 
 and American trade very extensively, nor had her com- 
 mander anv objections to engage, although the Eotor- 
 priso was so handled as to leave her no choice. The 
 vessels crossed each other on opposite tacks, the 
 American to leeward, but close aboard her enemy. 
 Each delivered her broadside in passing, with consider- 
 able etfect. The liclin of the Enterprise was put down 
 in the smnkc, and she slioi rapidly up into the wind, 
 taking directly athwart the Frenchman's wake. This 
 was done so quickly as to enable the American to dis. 
 charge four of her six gnns fairly into the enemy's 
 stern, raking her with great effect. The enemy was 
 now evidently in confusion, and his schooner coming 
 round, Mr. Shaw laid the enemy aboard to windward, 
 firing but one more gun; eleven in all. The Ameri- 
 cans met with no resistance, finding the crow of I'Aigle 
 below. At first this circumstance excited surprise, 
 the French commander having one of the greatest repu- 
 tations of any privatetrsman in the West Indies; and 
 being known to be as resolute as he was skilful. 
 
 On examining the state of the prize, however, it 
 was ascertained that a round »liut liad struck the 
 French commander on the upper part of his forehead, 
 tearing away the scalp, and he lay for dead, on deck. 
 He recovered his senses in the end, and survived the 
 injury. Another shot had passed directly through the 
 breast of the first lieutenant. Nor was the fate of the 
 second lieutenant much better than that of his com- 
 mander. A shot had also grazed his head, carrying 
 away a part of one ear, and much of the skin, throw- 
 ing him on deck senseless. It was owing to these 
 singular casualities that the men, finding themselves 
 without leaders, deserted their quarters when the 
 American boirdcd. 
 
 L'Aigle had three men killed and nine wounded, in 
 this short affair. Three of the Enterprise's people 
 were wounded, but no one wai slain. The prize was 
 sent in, as usual, and Mr. Shaw immediately prepared 
 for further service. 
 
 In July, this gallant little schooner, then cruising to 
 leeward of Dominico, fell in with Le Flambeau, an- 
 other privateer of note in those seas. This vessel. 
 a brig, was every way superior to the Enterprise, 
 mounting the same number of guns, it is true, but of 
 heavier metal, and liavmg a crew on board of one 
 hundred and ten souls. .She had also a reputation for 
 sailing and working well, and was cammanded by a 
 brave experienced seaman. 
 
 The Flambeau was seen by the Americans over 
 night, but could not close. Next morning, she was 
 discovered sweeping toward them in a calm. Lieut. 
 Com. Shaw allowed her to approach, until the sea- 
 breeze struck his schooner, when he immediately set 
 every thmg and crowded-sail in chase. The brig spread 
 all her canvas, and both vessels went off free, for some 
 time, with studding-sails set. The Flambeau was ap- 
 parently disposed to observe before she permitted the 
 Enterprise to come any nearer. While running, in ibis 
 manner, at a rapid rate, through thewater, the French- 
 man, who was tlitn enrrying studding-sails on both sides 
 suddenly hauled up close on a wind, hoarding his star- 
 board tack. The Enterprise did the same, hauling np 
 nearly in her wake. In this manner the chase continu- 
 
 ed, the Enteprri*c gaining, antil the vessels got within 
 range of m'.skctry, when the Flambeau opened a 
 heavy fire with that species of arms. The Enterprise 
 returned the fire in the same manner, until close aboard 
 of her enemy, when Lt. Com. Shaw edged a little off, 
 shortened sail, and received a broadside. This dis- 
 charge was iuiinediiuely returned, and a spirited fire 
 was kept up for about twenty minutes. Finding him- 
 self getting the worst of the combat, the Frenchman 
 hauled all his sheets Hat aft, luffed, and tacked. The 
 Eniorpriso endeavored to imitate this nianccuvre, but 
 unluckily she missed stays. There remained no other 
 expedient for Lieut. Coin. Shaw hut to trim every 
 thing that. would draw, get roimd as fust as he could, 
 and endeavor to got along side of his enemy by his su- 
 periority of sailing. This was done, and the firing 
 recommenced. The foretopmast of le Flambeau had 
 been badly wounded, and men were seen aloft endea- 
 voring to secure it, when, a flaw of wind striking the 
 brig, the spar came down, carrying si.x men with it 
 overboard. As the Flam'.icau was running away from 
 the spot where the accident happened, and the Enter- 
 prise was fast coming up to it, the latter lowered a boat, 
 and saved all the Frenchmen. A few minutes later, 
 she ranged close along stde her enemy, when le Flam- 
 beau struck. The action lasted forty minutes, and had 
 been hotly contested on both sides. Le Flambeau had 
 forty men killed and wounded, and the Enterprise eight 
 or ten. The Frenchman was hulled repeatedly, and 
 among ether accidents that befell him a shot passed 
 through his medicine chest, while the surgeon w.is busy 
 operating on the hurt. The prize was carried to St. 
 ICitts, and, in the end, all the proceeds were adjudged 
 to the officers and people of the Enterprise, as having 
 ca|)tured a vessel of superior force. In the engage- 
 ment, the Enterprise mustered eighty-three sonls, all 
 told. 
 
 This was one of the warmest actions of the war of 
 179S. It added largely to the reputation of the schooner 
 and her gallant commander, the services of both having 
 been usually brilliant in the force employed. Active 
 as our subject had been, he was not content to remain 
 idle, going to sea again as soon as he had repaired 
 damages. 
 
 In August, Lieut. Shaw, cruising in the Antigua 
 passage, fell in with another French privateer in the 
 night. The French endeavored to escape, but, after a 
 chase of five hours, the Enterprise got him fairly under 
 her guns, when he struck. The vessel proved to lie la 
 Pauline, of six guns and forty men. Tlie French con- 
 sul at Porto Rico was a passenger in this vessel. La 
 Pauline was sent into St. Kitts, like all her predeces- 
 sors. 
 
 In September, still cruising in the Antigua passage, 
 Lieut. Shaw captured after firiugu few guns, a letter- 
 of marque, called le Guudaloupiienne a vessel of seven 
 guns and forty-five men. On board the prize was 
 found the same general officer who had been taken in 
 the three-masted lugger and exchanged, and who now 
 became a prisoner, the second time, to Lieut. Com. 
 Shaw, in the same season. 
 
 How much longer this success and activity would 
 have continued, it is hard to say; but, by this time, the 
 health of Mr. Shaw was suffering severely through the 
 influence of the climate, and. induced to follow the ad- 
 vice of his medical attendants, he asked to be relieved. 
 The malady was a continued diarrhoea, and was not to 
 he neglected in that latitude. Hii^hly as thcaetivitvof 
 Mr. Stiaw was appreciated, he was ordered to transfer 
 the command of the Enterprise to Lieut. Sterrel, late of 
 the Constellation, and permitted to sail for the United 
 States in the Petapsco, sloop of war, where he arrived 
 late in November. Lieut. Shaw did not reach Wash- 
 ington until early in January, 1801, where he was pcr- 
 sonallv thanked by the President for his services. The 
 Secretary also paid him a similar compliment. He 
 was promised promotion, and had actually received 
 verbal orders to prepare to go to Boston, where he was 
 to assume tlie charge of the Berceuu, a prize corvette 
 of twenty-six guns, which wasa post-captain's com- 
 mand. This arrangement, however, was defeated by 
 the progress of the negotiations, and a treaty of 
 
 peace waa ratiflod by the Senate the following 
 month. 
 
 In March, IbOl, Mr. Jefferson's administration 
 commenced, and the pence establishment law, which 
 had been passed under the government of his pre- 
 decessor in olKce, was now carried into effect. The 
 Ilcrceau was restored to the French by the condi- 
 tions of the treaty, and so far from promoting any 
 of inferior rank, there existed the necessity of dis- 
 banding the greater portion of the gentlemen already 
 on the list of captains. Of more than thirty cap- 
 tains and commanders then in service, but nine of 
 the former rank were to be retained. The law, 
 however, directed that thirty-six lieutenants were 
 to continue on the list. This was a reduction of 
 nearly three-fourths, and it became a serious ques- 
 tion who was, and who was not to be detained. 
 
 Under ordinary circumstances, there is little 
 question that Mr. Shaw, a native of a foreign coun- 
 try, and without political support, with less than 
 twelve years' residence, and not yet three years' 
 service in the navy, would have been among those 
 who would be compelled to retire. I3ut, the cruise 
 of the Enterprise had been far too brilliant to suffer 
 this injustice. In six months that schooner had 
 captured eight privateers and letters-of-ncarque, and 
 fought five spirited actions ; two of which were with 
 vessels of superior force. In four of these actions 
 she had actually captured her antagonists, and in 
 that in which the combatants separated as not being 
 lawfully belligerents as respects ealh other, she had 
 nobly sustained the honor of the flag. It was im- 
 possible to overlook such service, and Mr. Shaw 
 was retained in his proper rank. His name appears 
 as fourth on the list of lieutenants, under the peace 
 establishment law, leaving Stewart, Hull and Ster- 
 ret above him. 
 
 In the spring of 1801, the government sent the 
 George Washington 28 armed in flute, into the 
 Mediterranean, with the tribute for Algiers. To 
 this vessel, Lieut. Commodore Shaw was appointed, 
 as honorable a command as could be connected 
 with such duty After delivering the stores, the 
 ship remained out, convoying and looking after the 
 interests of the American trade, until the following 
 year, when she returned to America. The whole 
 service occupied about a twelve-month ; the usual* 
 extent of a cruise in that f'ay, when ere is were 
 shipped for only a year. On her return home, the 
 George Washington, which hid been an In liaman 
 bought into the navy, was sold and returi.ed to her 
 original occupation. 
 
 By the new law Mr. Shaw was now put on lieu- 
 tenant's half-pay, which, at that period of the his- 
 tory of the navy, was only twenty dollars a month. 
 Necessity compelled him to ask for a furlough, on 
 receiving which, he made a voyage as master to 
 Canton, touching at the Isle of France. On this 
 voyage he was absent about eighteen months, re- 
 turning to the United States in September, 180-f. 
 Previously to this, Mr. Shaw had mamed a lady of 
 Philadelphia of the name of Palmer. Elizabeth 
 Palmer was of a family of Friends, but attachment 
 to the subject of our biography induced her to break 
 the rigid laws of her sect, and, of course, submit to 
 being rejected by her church. It was this mar- 
 riage, and the birth of one or two children, that 
 compelled Mr. Shaw to seek service in the India- 
 man just mentioned. 
 
 During his absence on the India voyage, or May 
 22d, 1S04, the rank of master commandants was re- 
 stored to the navy, by the promotion of the eight 
 oldest lieutenants. Of course. Captain Shaw be- 
 came the fourth officer of that rank then in service. 
 This was at the moment when Preble was carrying 
 on his brilliant operations before Tripoli, and the 
 subject of gun-boats was much discussed in the na- 
 val circles. Early in Januar)-, 1805, Capt. Shaw 
 addressed a letter to the Secretary, offering to carry 
 a flotilla of these ciaftiiito the Mediterranean. His 
 idea was to build them in time to sail in March, 
 
IRISH fflSCELLANY. 
 
 15 
 
 expecting to be able to reach the point of opera- 
 tions in the succeeding May. To this offer, Capt. 
 Shaw annexed a request that the conunodoru on 
 tlie station shoidd be instructed to give him the 
 command of the gxinboats he should succeed in nav- 
 igating in front of the enemy's port. Tlic arrival 
 of Commodore Preble, in this country, induced the 
 government to construct the boats, but Capt. Shaw 
 himself, was appointed to the command of the John 
 Adams 23, and in May he sailed for the Mediter- 
 ranean, having three of the gunboats in company. 
 On their arrival on the station, it was foimd that 
 peace had been made, and shortly after, the John 
 Adams returned home. The ship was now laid up 
 in ordinary, at Washington, at which port she had 
 ajTived in December, after a cruise of seven months. 
 
 Capt. Shaw received orders to repair to New Or- 
 leans in January, 1S06, or the month after his return 
 home, with directions to construct a flotilla of gun- 
 boats, for the service of those waters. This was the 
 commencement of the great gunboat system in the 
 country, those already in use having been built for 
 special service abroad. The following winter he 
 was made acquainted with the existence of the plot 
 of Burr. This compelled him to use extraordinary 
 exertions to equip a force equal to commanding the 
 river, under circumstances of this nature. Early 
 in February, he appeared off Natchez, with a flotil- 
 la mounting sixty-one guns, and'manned with four 
 hundred and forty-eight seamen and soldiers. The 
 two ketches, JEtna and Vesuvius, had joined him in 
 the river, composing more than a third of this force. 
 The services of Capt. Shaw, on this occasion, met 
 with the approbation of the government. 
 
 After the dispersion of Burr's force, Capt. Shaw 
 was ordered to Washington, and was sent to Rich- 
 mond, as a witness on the trial of the accused. At 
 the close of the year 1807, he was commanded to 
 sit on the court which tried Com. Barron, for the 
 affair of the Chesapeake, having been promoted to 
 the rank of a post-captain the 27th August, pre- 
 viously. 
 
 After the court rose, Capt. Shaw received orders, 
 of the date of May, 1808, to take charge of the na- 
 vy yard at Norfolk. On this station he continued 
 until August, 1810, when he was commanded to 
 proceed, once more, to New Orleans. On this oc- 
 casion, he repaired to his station by land. On reach- 
 ing Natches, he met Governor Claiborne, who had 
 been directed to seize Baton Rouge. A flotilla of 
 gunboats had been lying off Natches some time, 
 and taking command of it, Capt. Shaw covered the 
 debarkation of the troops that effected this piece of 
 service. 
 
 During the year 1811, Capt. Shaw was principally 
 engaged in making preparations to defend New Or- 
 leans, in the event of a war with Great Britain. 
 He (jjcamined all the approaches to the place, though 
 the storm blew over, and little was done by the 
 government toward effecting this important object. 
 These labors, however, w,ere of service when the 
 war so suddenly and unexpectedly broke out, the 
 following year. As the enemy paid no great atten- 
 tion to this part of the country until late in the 
 war, Capt. Shaw had little otljer duty to perfonn, 
 while he remained on this station, than to make 
 such preparations as his means and orders allowed. 
 Among other things, he commenced the construc- 
 tion of a heavy block ship, that subsequently was 
 used in the defence ot the place. In 1813, Gen. Wil- 
 kinson seized Mobile, Capt. Shaw commanding the 
 maratime part of the expedition. On this duty the 
 latter was employed about three months, having 
 a strong division of gunboats and light cruizers un- 
 der his orders. On this occasion, the navy trans- 
 ported the guns and stores to the point, where the 
 troops erected the work subsequently rendered dis- 
 tinguished by the repulse of a British attack by 
 water. The communication with New Orleans, by 
 sea, was also kept up by means of the flotilla. On 
 his return to New Orleans, Capt Shaw was much 
 
 cngaced in procuring cannon, ammunition and gun- 
 carriages, for the defence of that important place. 
 To obtain the latter, a quantity of mahogany was 
 purchased, and on this material, about forty heavy 
 guns were mounted. These guns were subsequently 
 used by the army that repulsed the enemy, in 18b5. 
 
 In the spring of 1814, Capt. Shaw left the station 
 and repaired to Washington, 5t which place he ar- 
 rived early in May. After settling his accounts, he 
 obtained a short leave of absence to visit his friends. 
 After discharging this domestic duty, he proceeded 
 on to Connecticut, and took command of the squad- 
 ron lying in the Thames, between New London and 
 Norwich. This force consisted of the United 
 States a, Macedonian 38, and Hornet 18. As these 
 ships were vigilantly blockaded by the enemy, the 
 Hornet alone was enabled to get out. She effected 
 her escape under Capt. Biddle, and subsequently 
 captured the Penguin IS, but the two frigates were 
 kept in the river until peace ; or March, 1815. 
 
 As soon as the war terminated, the United States 
 proceeded to Boston, imder Capt. Shaw, with or- 
 ders to prepare for a cruise in the Mediterranean. 
 In September of the same year, she joined the 
 squadron under Bainbridge, at Malaga. Peace with 
 Algiers, however, had been made by Decatur, and 
 there being no necessity for retaining the large force 
 that was out in the distant sea. Com. Bainbridge 
 came home, leaving the station in command of Capt. 
 Shaw, the next senior to himseK in the Mediterra- 
 nean. The force left with Com. Shaw consisted 
 of his own ship, the United States 44, Constellation 
 38, Capt. Crane, Ontario, 18, Capt. Elliott and Erie 
 18, Capt. Ridgely. The Java 44, Capt. Perry, joined 
 him soon after. 
 
 Com. Shaw retained this command until the fol- 
 lowing J'Car, cruising and visiting the different ports 
 of that sea, when he was relieved by Com. Chaun 
 cey, in the Washington 74. Capt. Shaw continued 
 out, however, until November, 1817, when he eX' 
 changed for the Constellation, and came home, that 
 ship requiring repairs. The Constellation anchored 
 in Hampton Roads, December 26, 1817, making the 
 cruise of her commander extend to about twenty 
 eight months. Com. Shaw got leave to visit his 
 family in Philadelphia, from which he had now 
 been separated, on service, nearly five years. 
 
 Com. Shaw never went to sea again, in command. 
 He was shortly after put in charge of the Boston 
 navy yard, where he remained the usual time. 
 AVhen relieved, he was placed in command at 
 Charleston, South Carolina, a station rather of hon- 
 or, however, than of much active duty. September 
 17, 1823, he died at Philadelphia, where he had been 
 taken ill, the place that he considered his home, 
 and where he had first established himself, on his 
 arrival in the country, thirty-three years before. 
 As Com. Shaw was bom in 1773, he was just fifty 
 when he died. 
 
 Com. Shaw was twice married. His first wife 
 was Elizabeth Palmer, the Quakeress already men- 
 tioned. By this lady he had several children, all 
 of whom, but two daughters, died young. Of these 
 two daughters, Elizabeth, the eldest, married Fran- 
 cis H. Gregory, Esq., of Connecticut, a captain in 
 the navy, and now in command of the Raritan 44 ; 
 and Virginia, the youngest, is the wife of Wm. H. 
 Lynch, Esq., of Virginia, a lieutenant in the navy 
 of fifteen years' standing, and late commander of 
 the steamer Poinsett. By Mrs. Gregory, there are 
 seven grandchildren, the descendants of Com. Shaw; 
 and by Mrs. Lynch, two. 
 
 Com. Shaw was a man of great probity and sin- 
 cerity of character. As a seaman, he was active, 
 decided and ready. No man was braver, or more 
 willing to serve the flag under which he sailed. As 
 has been saiJ, the cruise of the Enterprise, in 1800. 
 if not positively the most useful, and, considering 
 the force and means employed, the most brilliant, 
 of any that ever occurred in the American navy, | 
 it was certainly among the most useful and brilliant. 
 
 Of itself, it was sufficient to give a commander an 
 established reputation. His other services were of 
 a respectable order, though circumstances never 
 placed him subsequently in situations to manifest 
 the same qualities. 
 
 Com. Shaw was a man of fine presence, and had 
 the manly bearing and frank demeanor of a sea- 
 man. His character answered to his exterior. 
 There was a 'warm-heartedness in his demeanor to- 
 ward his friends, that denoted good feelings. Few 
 officers were more beloved by those who served un- 
 der him, and he was disposed to deal honorably and 
 justly by all mankind. 
 
 OUR PICTURE GALLERY ! 
 
 No. 1— Captdee of the Siege Teaik ! 
 
 With the present number of our journal, we present to 
 eacli subscriber to the Irisll I'ictorial Miscellany, a ^pIendid 
 Litlio^iitpliic Engraving, representing the glorious scene, 
 whicli uecui-red shortly betore the capture of Limerick, 
 when (General Sarslield, who coniiiunKieil the Irish hoi-sc, 
 having learned that a lai'ge supplj' <•] iie:iw ^ei;;e guns was 
 on the way to the camp of the I'liuce ul (ti;iiige, resolved 
 tocapture them. Crossing over thecuuntry by a ditllcult 
 and circuitous rout, bo as to intercept the convoy, he came 
 up in front of it at Killenuniona, attacked William's 
 troops, defeated them and compelled them to relieat before 
 tMe Irish horse, leaving (heir aitillery in the hands of Bars- 
 field. 
 
 Having to rejoin the garrison at Limerick, Sarsfield knew 
 it would be impossible to carry with him the heavy Eng- 
 lisli guns through the mountain passes, and determined to 
 destroy them. He ordered them to be charged to their ut- 
 most capacity, and imbedded deeply iu the earth, with the 
 whole of the bagga^te train, which also tell into his hands. 
 A train being laid, the spark was applied and in a few sec- 
 onds the seige artillery of William was sh.-ittered into innu- 
 merable fragments 'ibis gallant feat astonished the Eng- 
 lish troops, gave new courage to the Irish, and added to 
 the great popularity of tlie gallant Sarstield. The explo- 
 sion shook the earth for miles around, and was heard at an 
 immense distance. 
 
 This memorable event is very faithfully and accurately 
 portrayed. It has not hitherto, given inspiration, as lar as 
 we can learn, to any of our Irish artists, but now has quite 
 amble justice done it. It makes a most beautiful picture, 
 and we present it to our readers on a sheet of tine draw- 
 ing paper, separate from the Miscellany, suitable for 
 framing 
 
 It will at once be seen that we cannot do this without a 
 great outlay of capital. We expect to be reimbursed by a 
 very large addition to our subscription list, as no person 
 will be entitled to it who has not paid on or before the 
 the end of the year a year's subscription in advance, dating 
 from our first number. 
 
 Kon subscribers will be supplied at $1,60 for each plate. 
 
 We are resolved that our subscribers shall possess a 'pic- 
 ture gallery' worthy of the events we propose to commem- 
 orate. This will be the first of a series of national pio- 
 TUKEswe propose presenting gratis to our regular subscrib- 
 ers: the second picture of the series will be issued in 
 due time, the subject of which is not yet decided on. We 
 should feel obliged to any of our friends who possess old 
 pictures of remarkable events in Irish history, or portraits 
 of distinguished Irishmen, to forward them to us. They 
 shall be taken good care of. and returned. 
 
 Let our friends see to their subscriptions in season. Our 
 Picture Gallery will be fit to adorn the walls of any gentle- 
 man's house in the couutrv. and will, we hope, eventually 
 supersede the wretched dim'bs which aie olleu met with. 
 
 Will our Iriends of tie press ^ilease notice this new fea- 
 ture in our publication, and we will take care that their 
 sanctums are adorned with choice copies of this national 
 picture. ^ 
 
 NOETHEKN HOUSE, 
 
 NORTH SQtTAIlE— BOSTON. 
 
 JOHN GLANCY Peopkietob. 
 
 This House has rooms equal to any first class Hotel, and 
 permanent or transient Boarders can be accoumiodated 
 nearly one half cheaper than at any other House in the 
 City. 
 
 In the Reading Eoom can be found all the mornmg and 
 evening papers, and periodicals of the day, together with 
 an extensive Libbaky, for the free and cxclusiie use of 
 the Boarders. 
 
 N. B. Strangers visiting Boston, can always find this 
 House a Home. 
 
 DO'HOUHKIC, ro.-peellully informs his Iriends and the 
 , public, tliiit he keeps constantly on hand COl'l'IN S 
 ot all -i/c s ill, ■! kinds, ul his CotKn Jlunufactory, No. 347 
 i'VcliMnl. liiivMiiL lleaoh and Kneclund Streets, Boston, 
 which lie will ^ell us reusunabic us can be bought at any oth- 
 
 N. U.— Orders punctually attended to, day or night. 
 Kesidence, No. 28 South'street, Boston. 
 QI/^Grave-Clotbea furnished to order at short notice. 
 febl3 
 
16 
 
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 IS published weekly at Knoxville, Tennessee, by JOHN 
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 VOLUME 2— NUMBER 28.] 
 
 BOSTON, SATURDAY, AUGUST 21, 1858. 
 
 [PRICE FOUR CENTS 
 
 CAHRICKFERGrS CASTLE. 
 
 Carrickfergus Castle is placed on a rock, and in a 
 convenient position for commanding the best har- 
 bor on the north-east coast of Ireland. It is a 
 very natural supposition that this place should have 
 been early selected as the site of a fortress, which is 
 said to have been a strong hold of the Dalaradians, 
 and distinguished by the name of Carraig-Feargusa, 
 or the rock of Fergus, after a king of that name ; 
 ■who was drowned near the place. 
 
 John de Courcey having received from Henry II. 
 a grant of all the land he might conquer in Ulster, 
 set out from Dublin with a small band of seven 
 hundred followers to secure his prize. Observing 
 the convenient position of the strong fort, he erected 
 here, according to the Norman practice, a castle, 
 which, with subsequent additions, now remains, 
 and may justly be considered as one of the noblest 
 fortresses of the time now existing in Ireland. 
 
 De Courcy having fallen into disgrace with the 
 succeeding English monarchs, his castles and pos- 
 sessions fell into the hands of the De Lacy family, 
 who becoming oppressive and tyrannous, were in 
 their turn ejected by King John — fled to France — 
 were restored — again became obnoxious to the Eng- 
 lish monarch, and the Lord Justice Mortimer being 
 sent against them, they fled a second time, and 
 passing over into Scotland, invited Edward Bruce 
 the brother of the famous Robert Bruce, to invade 
 their country, and become their king. 
 
 In May, 1315, Lord Edward Bruce, having obtain- 
 ed the consent of the Scotch parliament, embarked 
 six thousand men at Ayr, and accompanied by the 
 De Lacys, and many nobles of the Scotch nation, 
 landed at Olderfleet, for the purpose of conquering 
 Ireland from the English. Numbers of the Irish 
 chiefs flocked to his standard ; and having in a battle 
 totally routed the Earl of Ulster, and slain and tak- 
 
 en prisoners various of the Anglo-Norman nobles, 
 he laid siege to Carrickfergus. During the progress 
 of the siege, he had well nigh been discomfited by 
 the courage and desperation of the garrison. Thom- 
 as, lord Mandeville, who commanded, made a sally 
 upon the Scotch army, who were apprehending no 
 danger, their only guard being sLxty men under 
 Neill Fleming, a man of great courage and address. 
 He perceiving that the Scotch army would be sur- 
 prised and probably routed, despatched a messenger 
 to inform Bruce of his danger, and then with his 
 sixty men, threw himself in the way of the advanc- 
 ing English, crying out, ' Now of a truth they wOl 
 see how we can die for our lord !' His first onset 
 checked the progress of the enemy, but receiving a 
 mortal wound, he and his little party were cut to 
 pieces. Mandeville, dividing his troops, endeavor- 
 ed to surround the Scotch army ; but was met in 
 person by Bruce who with his guards was hurrying 
 
 -i-nJ^ 
 
 ^.rU-tiV^.^^^^ 
 
 CAUniCKFERGUS CASTLE. 
 
18 
 
 IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 forward. In front of llruce's party was one Gilbert 
 Harper, a man famed in tlic Scotcli army for valor 
 and strength, and he knowing Mandevillc by the 
 richness of his armor, rushed on him and felled him 
 to the (jround with his battle-axe, and then liruee 
 despatched hini with a knife. The loss of the Kng- 
 lish commander so disheartened the soldiers, that 
 they fled bnek towards the castle ; but those who 
 remained in the garrison, seeing the Scots close be- 
 hind, drew up the drawbridge, leaving their com- 
 rades to the mercy of enemies. 
 
 Soon after the garrison agreed to surrender with- 
 in a limited time, and on the appointed day thirty 
 Scots advanced to take the possession of the place. 
 But instead of surrendering, the garrison seized 
 them as prisoners, declaring they would defend the 
 place to the last extremity ! And to a deplorable 
 extremity they were at last reduced, for before they 
 did surrender, it is said that the want of provisions 
 . made them devour the thirty Scotchmen whom they 
 had treacherously taken prisoners ! 
 
 Uruce having secured Carrickfcrgus, advanced to 
 Dublin, and came so near as Castleknock, within 
 four miles of the city, lint finding the citizens pre- 
 pared for his reception, he entered the county of 
 Kildare, and advanced near Limerick, laying waste 
 the country by fire and sword. Hut having again 
 to retreat northwards, he was attacked near Dun- 
 dolk by Sir John liirminghani, was slain, and his 
 army totally routed. King Robert Bruce arrived 
 with a large army ; but on learning the fate of his 
 brother, he returned to Scotland, and thus this un- 
 fortunate expedition, which had been originally un- 
 dertaken, not for the good of Ireland, but to grati- 
 fy the pride and rebellious spirit of an Anglo-Nor- 
 man chieftain, left the country in a state of greater 
 desolation than any former period of history re- 
 cords. 
 
 Carrickfcrgus continued for many long years to 
 be a stronghold of the English ; and even when 
 their power was conf ned and limited, and the rev- 
 enues of the Pale so low as that the Irish govern- 
 ment thought it too much to maintain a standing 
 army of 1 10 horse, the lofty and securely built cas- 
 tle remained in their possession. In the ye.ir 1508, 
 Con O'Xeill, chief of south or upper Clandeboy, 
 whose castle was that of Castlercagh, was confined 
 here, on account of the following affair. Having 
 about Christmas, 1602, a 'grand debauch' at 
 Castlercagh, with his ' brothers, friends and follow- 
 ers," he sent his servants to Belfast for more wine. 
 They, in returning, quarrelled with some English 
 soldiers, near the Knock church, and they lost the 
 wine. Con was doubtless not a little ve.xed ; and 
 having learned from them that their number exceed- 
 ed the English soldiers, he swore by • his father, and 
 souls of his ancestors,' that they should never be 
 servants of his until the had beaten the ' buddagh 
 Sassenagh soldiers.' This threat roused their cour- 
 age — they returned, attacked the soldiers, several of 
 whom were killed in the affray. Con was soon after 
 seized as an abettor, and confined for some time. 
 But though he was permitted, after a time, to walk 
 out through the town attended by a soldier, Con 
 did not lelish his limited liberty. But one Thomas 
 Montgomerv-, the master of a bar<(uc which traded 
 to Carrickfcrgus with meal for the garrison, being 
 employed by his relation Hugh Montgomery, to 
 effect Con's escape, and letters having been convey- 
 ed to the prisoner that measures were planning, he 
 made love to Annas Dobbin, the daughter of the 
 provost-marshal, and marrj-ing her, she (and small 
 blame to her) got O'Xeill conveyed on board her 
 husband's vessel, and set sail for Ayrshire. Con 
 was afterwards pardoned by James the First, but in 
 the meantime he had been simple enough to make 
 over the greater part of his estate of Clandeboy to 
 the cunning Hugh Montgomery, who procured a 
 new patent, and entered on the possession. 
 
 During the wars of 1611, and following years, 
 
 Carrickfcrgus became an object of interest to the 
 contending parties, being alternately in the keeping 
 of the Scotch, English and Irish. 
 
 The year 1760 is memorable us being the year in 
 which the French, under the conmiand of Commo- 
 dore Thourot, landed in Carrickfcrgus, and attacked 
 the town. Though the castle was in a most dilap- 
 idated state, a breach being in the wall next the 
 sea fifty feet wide, no cannon mounted, and the 
 garrison few in numbers, yet Colonel Jennings, en- 
 couraged by the mayor and other inhabiiants, brave- 
 ly met the invaders, and when driven back by the 
 superior strength of their assailants, they retreated 
 into the castle, and repulsed the French even though 
 they forced the upper gate. But uU the ammuni- 
 tion being expended, a parley was beaten, and the 
 garrison capitulated on honorable terms. During 
 the attack, several singular circumstances occurred. 
 When the French were advancing up High street, 
 and engaged with the English, a little child ran out 
 playfully into the street, between the contending 
 parties. The French officer, to his honor be it re- 
 corded, observing the danger in \vhich the little 
 boy was in, took him up in his arms, ran with him 
 to a house, which proved to be his father's, the sher- 
 iff, and having left him safe, returned to the engage- 
 ment. This really brave and humane man was kill- 
 ed at CaiTickfergus castle gate. During the plun- 
 dering which took place, two French soldiers enter- 
 ed the house of an old woman named Mave Demp- 
 sey, and one of them took her silk handkerchief, 
 Mave, who was a pious Roman Catholic, presented 
 her beads, doubtless expecting that he would be 
 struck with compunction at so forcible an appeal to 
 his conscience. 'Ah,' said the soldier, with a sig- 
 nificant shrug, ' dat be good for your soul ; dis be 
 good for my body !' 
 
 The French kept possession of Carrickfcrgus for 
 some time ; but the alarm having been carried all 
 over the country, and troops gathering fast to at- 
 tack them, they were constrained to embark on 
 board their vessels and set sail ; and two days af- 
 terwards were attacked off the Isle of Man by an 
 English squadron, wh n Commodore Thourot was 
 killed, and the French ships captured, and so ended 
 an expedition which was better executed than plann- 
 ed, cost the French money, men and ships, without 
 one single advantage to be derived which any man 
 of experience and military discernment could pos- 
 sibly look for. 
 
 A Generous Monarch. — Alfonso V. of Aragon, 
 was born in 1385, and died 1454. His character, 
 chivalrous and generous is illustrated by the following 
 anecdotes : — One day his treasurer was paying him 
 ten thousand ducats ; an officer who was present said 
 in a low voice, not meant for the king's C'^r, ' That 
 sum is all I need to make me hnppy.' The king, how- 
 ever, heard him, and paid, ' TlioH shall be happy, 
 then ;' and immediately ordered the ten thousand du- 
 cats to lie paid to him. To render himself more pop- 
 ular, Alfonso was in the luiliit of walking in the streets 
 of his capital on foot and unattended. 'When repre- 
 sentations were made to him of the danger there was 
 in thus exposing himself, he replied, ' A father who 
 walks in the midst of his children has nothing to fear.' 
 One of his courtiers having asked him who were those 
 of his subjects whom he loved the most ? ' Those,' 
 he answered, ' who fear for me more than they fear mc' 
 Seeing, one doy, a galley filled with soldiers on the 
 point of sinking, he ordtr'd immediately that succor 
 should bo given. Seeing those round him hesitate, 
 he leaped into a boat, and cried, ' I like better to be 
 ihc companion than the spectator o." their death.' The 
 soldiers were saved. Alfonso seems to have had wit 
 as well as nobleness. He was in the habit of saying, 
 that to continue a happy household, it was necessary 
 that the husband shoidd be deaf and the wife blind. 
 
 Tsu stick to me like true friends, as the hammer 
 said to the nail. 
 
 THE CITY OF THE LAKE. 
 
 On a fine morniu;; in autumn, Billy Walsh emerged 
 from the sheltering fence of elder and hawthorn that 
 surrounded his father's white-walled house, which 
 overtopped a green field that sloped gently to the 
 bunk of the romantic Daloo. He was equipped in 
 a pair of smart pumps; at the knees of liis corduroy 
 small-clothes waved a flowing knot of ribbon. His 
 coat was broadcloth, and a new hat, lately purchas- 
 ed at Mitchelstown, rose above the ( urling yellow 
 locks tlwit shaded his forehead ; while the accurate 
 knot of his yellow grinder, . proved that the time 
 employed at the looking-glass had not been spent in 
 vain. One hand was conecided in the left pocket of 
 the small-clothes, and the right flourished a slender 
 hazel twig, which, tradition taught him to believe, 
 could put to flight all the powers of darkness, as 
 St. Patrick made use of a hazel staff to expel every 
 evil and venomous thing from the favored island of 
 his adoption. 
 
 From the evasive answers which Billy gave to his 
 mother's inquiries concerning his afternoon excur- 
 sion, and the more than usual attention bestowed 
 on his dress, the inmates of the house suspected that 
 he had some very particular afl'air on hands ; and 
 each furnished his own conjecture on the occasion. 
 One supposed he was going to Mai a's benefit dance, 
 which was to take place that night ; but then why 
 should he set off so early ? Another that Kitty Daly 
 of the Commons, had a hand in the affair, else why 
 should he turn out so gaily ? A third, that he was 
 certainly going to his uncle's at Broadford, to en- 
 gage ill the conquering goal to-morrow ; but this 
 sage remark was given to the winds, for he left his 
 favorite hurley behind. The fact was, a few weeks 
 before, he danced at the patron of Coolavoto with 
 Peggy Noonan, a smiling blue-eyed girl, with fine 
 auburn hair. The next Monday he attended and 
 enjoyed the same satisfaction. In short, this blue- 
 eyed dancer had taken such complete possession of 
 his fancy, that he could neither work, nor eat, noi 
 rest, with thinking of her pretty ajicle and graceful 
 air. Peggy was not altogether insensible to his pas- 
 sion, for on this evening she had promised to meet 
 him, about a mile from her father's house, at the 
 churchyard of Kikorkcran. 
 
 Billy Walsh moved along with a light foot and 
 elastic tread, whihtling his favorite reel, ' I wish I 
 never saw you,' and decapitating all the unfortunate 
 thistles and wild flowers that grew to the right and 
 left within range of his hazel plant. He left the 
 town of Newmarket to the right, and struck across 
 Barleyhill towards the ruined castle of Carrigcashel. 
 As he crossed a brook that ran gurgling along its 
 pebbly bed, he perceived the stream diverted into a 
 narrow channel, which wound around the sloping 
 side of the glen. At that time irrigation was un- 
 known in this part of the country ; and buckcen 
 considered the stream led to the poteen still. He 
 pursued the water course, which conducted him to 
 a wretched and nearly roofless cabin, through every 
 aperture of which the smoke issued, and rising, 
 formed a beautiful blue column in the still air to a 
 considerable height above. Ashe passed with silent 
 tread over the heaps of grain that rose around, his 
 farther progress was arrested by the appearance of a 
 short, thick-set man ; his broad shoulders and ex- 
 pansive chest, indicated considerable strength, his 
 olive coniplexioned face, embrowned with smoke, 
 and shaded by enormous whiskers, displayed almost 
 savage ferocity, while with a stem tone he demand- 
 ed the stranger's business. 
 
 ' My business is easilj- told,' answered the other, 
 unhesitatingly, ' I'm cutting across the country to 
 Coolavoto, and have followed the strahane, think- 
 ing it might lead me to a glass of poteen to help me 
 across the hill.' 
 
 ' May be young man, you're come spying about 
 what shouldn't consani you, and — ' 
 
 ' Tut, tut ! Falvey, leave off your ramish,' said 
 
HUSH MISCELLANY. 
 
 19 
 
 a man emerging from the smoke of the hovel, and 
 ■whom Billy recognized as an old boon-compimion, 
 • lliUy Walsh's father's sou is not the buy to bring 
 hoiH'st people to trouble, or give to say that any of 
 liis name ever turned spy to a blackguard ganger." 
 The stern expression on Falvey's fealures now re- 
 laxed into a rugged sinile, and grasping Walsh's 
 hand, he cordially invited him to a glass of poteen. 
 Upon removing a stone from the wall of the hov- 
 el, they drew forth a small jar and a black wooden 
 cup, that supplied the place of a. glass. 'J-hen Fal- 
 vey tilled the cup, and after drinking to the health 
 of the new comer, drained it dry. The cup was re- 
 plenished and emptied in quick succession ; and 
 Billy Walsh was so taken with his new acquaint- 
 ance, and the potent beverage which is loved alike 
 throughout every grade in Ireland, from the peas- 
 ant to the peer, and finds its way into the cellars of 
 some commissions of excise, flung such spells around 
 him, that Peggy Noonan and the tristing-place at 
 the old church of Kilcorkeran, w^cre completely 
 forgotten, 
 
 The shadows of tree and tower, were lengthening 
 m the decline of the evening sun, as his engagement 
 flashed across the mind of Billy Walsh. He lightly 
 rose, and bid his companions farewell. He soon 
 crossed the wood iind gained the summit of the ad- 
 jacent hill ; the influence of the poteen, and the 
 dread of missing his blue-eyed girl, added wings to 
 his flight, but the sun was gone down, and the 
 evening star twinkled bright in the west, before he 
 reached Kileorkeran. The burying ground was re- 
 moved from the road and seated in the midst of ex- 
 tensive fields, and the dim twilight which was fall- 
 ing fast around, was not calculated to improve the 
 sad and silent scene. He peeped over the style that 
 led into the lonely abode of the dead — he called 
 Peggy Xoonan in vain — the echoes of his voice, as 
 they rose from the ivy-clad ruins of the old church, 
 seemed to be unearthly tones mocking his eager 
 call. The wild bird rushing from the sheltering 
 thorn, and the hollow whistle of the autumnal 
 night-blast along the tomo, shook his courage ; 
 all the tales that superstition taught his childhood to 
 believe, rushed upon his imagination. He wished 
 himself far from this fearful church-yard ; but the 
 foolish hope of seeing Peggy Xoonan, who doubt- 
 less, returned home displeased at his breach of 
 promise, chained him to the spot ; he sat down at 
 the gateway, and aft r cursing Falvey, the poteen, 
 and his own intemperate folly, fell fast asleep. 
 
 It is not recorded in his authentic story, how long 
 Billy Walsh slept at the gateway of the church- 
 yard, when he was roused by some one that called 
 him by name. He fancied it was Peggy Noonan's 
 voice : but great was his surprise to see an elderly 
 gentleman on horseback, dressed in black, with 
 cloth leggings ; and his face shaded by a broad- 
 brimmed beaver ; ' God save you Billy Wash ;' 
 says he, ' what brings you to be fast asleep in so 
 lonesome a spot, and so far from your own place at 
 this hour of night.' Billy AValsh rose, and taking 
 off his hat, saluted the priest, for he knew him to 
 be line from his dress, and because he carried the 
 check wallet behind him, containing the vestment 
 and holy utensils used in the celebration of mass; 
 and which, until lately, the priests themselves con- 
 veyed from place to place as occasion required. 
 
 ' I was waiting for a frind, plase your reverence, 
 an' as the place was lonely an' quiet, I fell fast 
 asleep ; bnt I can't say how your reverence knows 
 me, for I never placed my two-looking eyes on you 
 afore.' ' I know more than you may imagine,' said 
 the stranger, and Billy if you left Falvey and the 
 poteen in proper time, you need not disappoint Peg- 
 gy Xoonan, but I have a mass to read at I'2 o'clock 
 to-night at a distance from this, and I hope you will 
 not refuse to act as elerk.' 
 
 ' Thunder and turf thin ! begging your reverence's 
 pardon, you ar'nt half so cute as you prctind, (or 
 
 may be 'tis throwing it over me you are) not to know 
 that Billy AValsh never received any laming, nor an- 
 swered mass in his life. Besides, if I'm to be coo- 
 logue, to straddle bare-backed behind your rever- 
 ence, would destroy my new breeches.' 
 
 ' I warrant,' said the priest, ' that you can answer 
 mass in style ; and as to the breeches, we shall pass 
 so smoothly along, that not a thread of it will 
 sufl'er.' 
 
 Reluctant to refuse his reverence, Billy Walsh 
 mounted behind him ; and the priest directed his 
 course northward across the country, without let or 
 hindrance from hedge or river, over which they 
 glided like the morning mist, pursued by the early 
 beams of the sun. Though our hopeful clerk sat 
 quite at his ease, and altogether unshaken in his 
 seat, he did not much relish this nocturnal ramble, 
 and was never a professed admirer of early masses. 
 So as they passed along by his uncle's place at 
 Broadford, he endeavored to fling himself off, but 
 found that he was as it were, rivetted to the horse's 
 back. He next attempted to cry out for assistance, 
 but his tongue refused its wonted office, and like 
 Virgil's hero, under nearly similar circumstances, 
 vox faucibus hoasit. In the course of the night they 
 reached Lough-guir, a romantic lake that expands 
 its broad bosom a few miles below Bruff, and then 
 shone a field of liquid silver beneath the mild influ- 
 ence of the lovely harvest moon. On reaching the 
 bank, his companion bid Billy Walsh hold fast, and 
 fear nothing. The first part of this advice was need- 
 less, for he held with might and main his breath 
 drawn, and his teeth firmly set The other he flung 
 to the four winds of heaven, for on taking the fatal 
 plunge, he mentally besought pardon for aU his 
 sins, and the help of every saint in the calendar, for 
 he firmly believed that on reaching the bottom, all 
 the eels of the like would make a supper of his un- 
 fortunate carcase. 
 
 As the waters closed over their heads, Billy Walsh 
 instead of instant suffocation, and the monstrous 
 eels which his fears taught him to expect, was de- 
 lighted to find they were travelling along a broad 
 road shaded on each side with spreading trees, and 
 approaching a fine town whose lamps glittered in 
 the distance, like a multitude of bright stars. This 
 town which consisted of one principal street, exceed- 
 ed in beauty every idea that he had previously form- 
 ed of splendid cities. All the windows were light- 
 ed, and the richly-dressed inhabitants thronged the 
 street, as if it were some great festival. Upon reach- 
 ing the centre of the street, they stopped at a splen- 
 did church, at whose ample gate an immense crowd 
 were pouring in. Our travellers also entered by 
 the sacristy. Billy assisted the priest in vesting, 
 laid the altar with great cleverness, and then taking 
 his place at its lowest step, answered the mass from 
 the Introibo, to the last verse of the De Profundis, 
 with so much propriety and decorum, as would 
 have added credit to the best schoolmaster in Du- 
 hallon. AVhen all was concluded, and the cheek 
 wallet had received its usual contents, the venerable 
 priest turned round and addressed the congregation 
 that crowded the long aisle, and the spacious gal- 
 lery to the following effect : — 
 
 ' My brethren, you have seen with what propri- 
 ety and decorum Billy Walsh has acted the part of 
 clerk at the holy service. AVe have been long en- 
 deavoring to procure a suitable person to fill that 
 situation, and you all know how difhcult it is to 
 find one capable of discharging its duties properly. 
 I hardly think the young man can have any objec- 
 tion to remain in this splendid city, and as his mer- 
 its cannot be enhanced by any recommendation of 
 mine, I am sure there is not an individual in the 
 crowded assembly, but will be delighted to secure 
 his services.' 
 
 AVhen the priest had ended, the walls of the lofty 
 aisle resounded with the clapping of hands — the 
 gentlemen nodded assent— and the beautiful ladies 
 
 waved their ' white handkerchiefs, that streamed 
 like meteors of light in the glare of the brilliant 
 chandeliers, in token of approbation. 
 
 'You must be proud,' said the clergyman, spc^ak- 
 ing to Billy AValsh,, ' you must be proud to find 
 yourself such a favorite with all classes here, and 
 especially the ladies. You shall have in this city 
 every delight — the best eating and drinking — love- 
 ly ladies to dance with — and hurling matches to 
 your heart's content. Stay with us Billy AValsh ; I 
 know you are too sensible to throw away your good 
 luck.' 
 
 ' I have given my hand an' word to mind cool at 
 the hurling match on the common to-morrow even- 
 ing ; and more than that, I wouldn't part Peggy 
 Noonan for all the gold of Damer.' 
 
 The gentlemen entreated— the beautiful ladies 
 .jvept— and the priest promised that he should have 
 Peggy Noonan with him to-morrow night. He 
 continued as unyielding as the savage rock, round 
 whose brow the winds of heaven rage, and upon 
 whose changeless base the ocean pours its thousand 
 waves in vain. ' He would be no clerk at all.' 
 
 In short, the obstinate Billy Walsh was driven 
 amid groans of disapprobation from the church into 
 the street, and pursued with shouts and yells of 
 anger along the avenue which led to the border of 
 the lake. On arriving thither, a fearful whirlwind 
 caught him up like a straw, and hurled him ashore. 
 The dark waters of the troubled lake rose in an- 
 "ry waves, and the reeds of its sedgy borders waved 
 mournfully to the breeze of the gray morning as 
 Billy AValsh arose, and pursued his way homewards, 
 giving at every step his hearty curse to all young 
 men, who, ever again, would form assignations at 
 lonely church-yards. 
 
 Ffmale Intkepiditt. — It is recorded that a battle 
 was fought near Newtonhamilton, in the barony of 
 Fews, county of Armagh, between 0' Neil of Ulster, 
 denominutad Black Beard, (Fesgo Dim) and one of 
 the princes of Louih, in which many were slain on 
 both sides, and where O'Neil also fell : the quarrel is 
 said to have originated at a feast given on the spot, by 
 the Prince of Louth setting fire to O'Neil's beard, who 
 did not reUsh so warm a reception. The beard seems 
 to have been the seat of honor amongst the Milesians, 
 and any affront ofterid to its flowing locks could 
 only be expiated with the life of the offender. In later 
 day's the neighborhood of the Fews has been infested 
 by robbers, and three miles from No wtonhamilton a bar- 
 rack was built to keep the frecbooiers in check. Two 
 of their scattered party entered the country house of 
 Mr. Kelso in that place one evening, knowing that he 
 and his lady had gone to dine at a friend's, and that 
 the men servants were absent ; the robbers easily secu- 
 red the two female domestics and proceeded to the par- 
 lor, where Miss Kelso was alone, a girl about eleven 
 years old ; they ordered her on pain of death to show 
 them where the plate and money were kept, and she led 
 them to a closet which contained all the valuables : 
 whilst they were engaged in ransacking the presses, she 
 silently left the room and shut the door, which had a 
 spring lock ; and as there was but one small window, 
 secured by iron bars, she felt certain that the robbers 
 could not possibly escape ; meanwhile Miss Kelso went 
 to the kitchen and released the servant women, who 
 were tied hand and foot, and with their assistance col- 
 lected straw, di7 sticks, and whatever combustibles 
 were about the place, and making a heap of them, 
 lighted them on an eminence which would be seen from 
 the house where her parents were. This ,)lan sueceed- 
 cd-tho blaze soon attracted observalion-and Mr. 
 Kelso returned as soon as possible, with all the assis- 
 tance ho could assemble to extinguish the supposed 
 firo in his house. On his arrival he was agreeably 
 surprised to learn how matters stood, and seized the 
 robbers without dilTicuhy, 
 
 Joke when you please, but always be careful to 
 please when you joke. 
 
20 
 
 IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 The JTorth Gate of Carrickfergns is the only pictnr- 
 esqae remnant of the external defences of this impor- 
 lant borough town. The Roman style of its architec- 
 tnro indicates the period of its erection in the reign of 
 James the First, when the gothic or pointed style was 
 laid aside. It was originally entered by a draw-bridge. 
 A tradition goes conceniing the archway, that it will 
 stand nntil a wise man becomes a member of the cor- 
 poration. The satirical nature of the old saying, has 
 perhaps caused it to be lepcatcd and remembered, and 
 either tends to prove, that the Currickfergnssians have 
 Tery high ideas of the standard of wisdom, and that 
 though certainly no fools, they have modesty enough 
 to shrink from the assumption of positive wisdom — or 
 that perhaps, like other Irishmen, they have appella- 
 tions by contraries, as we have heard a man in another 
 district notorious for his sagacity, universally called 
 ' Paddy the fool.' Be thisi as it may, the old arch still 
 stands; proving, no doubt, that none of the present 
 corporaton are in any danger of being submitted to the 
 usual ordeal of those counted as dealing in witchcraft 
 and the black art. This train of thought leails us, as 
 the political history of this town was formerly 
 noticed, to give an account, as occurring here, of the 
 last trial for witchcraft that took place in Ireland, 
 which is reported as follows by Mr. M'Skimin, the ex- 
 cellent and accurate historian of his native town. 
 
 ' 1711. March 31st, Janet Mean, of Braid-island ; 
 Janet Latimer, Irish-quarter, Carrickfergns; Janet 
 Millar, Scotch-quarter, Carrickfergns; Maggy Mitchel, 
 Kilroot; Catherine M'Calmond, Janet Listen, alias 
 SoUcr, Elizabeth Seller, and Janet Carson, the four 
 last from Island Magce, were tried here, in the County 
 of Antrim court, for witchcraft. Their alleged crime 
 was tormenting a young woman called Mary Dunbar, 
 
 THE NORTH GATE, CAERICKPERGUS. 
 
 about eighteen years of age, at the house of James 
 Hattridge, Island Magee, and at other places to which 
 she was removed. The circumstances sworn on the 
 trial were as follows: — 
 
 'The afflicted person being, in the month of Feb- 
 ruary, 1711, in the house of James Hattridge, Island 
 Magee, (which had been for some time believed to be 
 haunted by evil spirits) found an apron on the par- 
 lor floor, that had been missing some time, tied with 
 five strange knots, which she loosened. On the fol- 
 lowing day she was suddenly seized with a violent pain 
 in her thigh, and afterwards fell into fits and ravings ; 
 and on recovering, said she was tormented by several 
 women, whoso dress and personal appearance she min- 
 utely described. Shortly after, she was again seized 
 with the like fits; and on recovering, she accused five 
 other women of tormenting her, describing them also. 
 The accused persons being brought from different parts 
 of the country, she appeared to suffer extreme fear and 
 additional torture, as they approached the house. It 
 was also deposed, that strange noises, as of whistling, 
 scratching, &e. were heard in the house, and that a 
 suiphorous smell was obsened in the rooms; that 
 stones, turf, and the like, were thrown aboutthe house, 
 and the coverlets, &c. frequently taken off the beds, 
 and made up in the shape of a corpse; and that a bol- 
 ster once walked out of a room into the kitchen, and 
 with a night gown about it '. It lilewise appeared in 
 evidence, that in some of her fits, three strong men 
 were scarcely able to hold her in the bed ; that at times 
 she vomited feathers, cotton yarns, pins, and buttons; 
 and that on one occasion she slid off the bed, and was 
 laid on the floor, as if supported and drawn by an in- 
 visible power. The aSlieted person was unable to give 
 any evidence on the trial, being luring that time i 
 
 dumb; but had no violent fit during its continuance- 
 
 The evidence sworn upon this trial were. Rev. 
 
 Skevington, Rev. William Ogilvie, William Fenton, 
 John Smith, John Blair, James Bljthe, William 
 Hartley, Charles Lennon, John Wilson, Hugh Wilson, 
 Hugh Donaldson, James HiU, James Hattridge, Mrs. 
 Hattridge, Rev. Patrick Adair, Rev. James Cobbam, 
 Patrick Ferguson, James Edmonston, and Jami- 
 son. 
 
 In defence of the accused, it appeared that they 
 were mostly sober, industrious people, who attended 
 public worship, could repeat the Lord's prayer, and 
 had been known both to pray in public and private ; 
 and that some of them had lately received the com- 
 munion. 
 
 Judge Upton charged the jury, and observed on the 
 regular attendance of the accused on public worship ; 
 remarking, that he thought it improbable that real 
 witches could so far retain the form of religion, as to 
 frequent the religious worship of God, both publicly 
 and privately, which had been proved in favor of the 
 accused. He concluded by giving his opinion, 'that 
 the jury could not bring them in guilty, upon the sole 
 testimony of the afflicted person's visionary images.' 
 He was followed by justice Macartney, who differed 
 from him in opinion, ' and thought the jury might, 
 from the evidenc, bring them in guilty ;' which they 
 accordingly did. 
 
 This trial lasted from si.x o'clock in the morning till 
 two in the afternoon , and the prisoners were sentenced 
 to be imprisoned twelve months, and to stand four times 
 in the pillory in Carrickfergns. 
 
 Tradition says, that the people were much exaspe- 
 rated, against these unfortunate persons, who were 
 everely pelted in the pillory, with boiled cabbage 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 21 
 
 stalks, and the like, by which one of thorn had an oyo 
 beaten out.' 
 
 The above curious recital proves to our satisfaction 
 two points : — first, that the above-mentioucd Judfjc 
 Macartney might, on the strength of our tradition, 
 have walked with perfect safety, at all limes of his lei- 
 sure, under the north gate, and secondly that the 
 Carrickftcgussians hereby exhibit their Caledonian 
 origin — witchcraft and sorcery being much practised 
 on the opposite coast, and both king and kirk having 
 there exhibited 'full clearness' in spacing the interfer- 
 ence of evil spirits on the affairs of this world. In Ire- 
 land, as far as wo know, there has not been since the 
 days of Alice Kettle, much ado about witches, though 
 much concerned, it is true, in the matter of ghosts, 
 banshees, and good people. But in Scotland, even at 
 the period of this curious trial in Carrickfergus, witch- 
 finding was still a propensity, and the lawvers, minis- 
 ters, and magistrates, could not refrain from dealing 
 oat their deserts on those suspected of the black art, as 
 is shown as follows, in that interesting work of the 
 late Sir Walter Scott, ' Letters on Deraonology and 
 Witchcraft.' 
 
 ' Sir John Clerk, a scholar and an antiquary, the 
 grandfather of the late celebrated John Clerk, of Eldin, 
 had the honor to be amongst the first to decline acting 
 as a commissioner on the trial of a witch, to which he 
 was appointed so early as 1678, alleging dryly, that he 
 did not feel himself warlock (that is, conjurer) suffici- 
 ent to bo a judge upon such an inquisition. Allan 
 Karasay, his frien i, and who must be supposed to 
 speak the sense of his many respectable patrons, had 
 delivered his opinion on the subject in the ' Gentle 
 Shepherd,' where Mause's imaginary witchcraft con- 
 stitutes the machinery of the poem. 
 
 Yet these drawings of sense and humanity were 
 obscured by the clouds of the ancient superstition on 
 more than one distinguished occasion. In 1576, Sir 
 George Maxwell, of Pollock, apparantly a man of 
 melancholic and valetudinary habits, believed himself 
 bewitched to death by six witches, one man and five 
 women, who were leagued for the purpose of torment- 
 ing a clay image made in his likeness. The chief evi- 
 dence on the subject was a vagabond girl, pretending 
 to be deaf and dumb. But as imposture was after- 
 wards discovered, and herself punished, it is reason- 
 ably to be concluded that she had herself formed the 
 picture or image of St. George, and had hid it, where 
 it was afterwards found, in consequence of her own 
 information. In the meantime five of the accused were 
 executed, and the sixth only escaped on account of 
 extreme youth. 
 
 A still more remarkable case occurred at Paisley, in 
 1697, where a young girl, about eleven years of age, 
 daughter of John Shaw, of Bargarran, wa.s the princi- 
 pal evidence. This unlucky damsel, beginning her 
 practices out of a quarrel with a maid-servant, continu- 
 ed to imitate a case of possession so accurately, that no 
 less than twenty persons were condemned upon her 
 evidence, of whom five were executed, besides one 
 John Reed, who hanged himself in prison, or, as was 
 charitably said, was strangled by the devil in person, 
 lest he should make disclosures to the detriment of the 
 service. But even those who believed in witchcraft 
 were now beginning to open their eyes to the dangers 
 in the present mode of prosecution. ' I own,' says the 
 Rev. Mr. Bell, in his MS. Treatise on Witchcraft, 
 ' there has been much harm done to worthy and inno- 
 cent persons in the common way of finding out witches 
 and in the means made use of for promoting the dis- 
 covery of such wretches, and bringing them to justice; 
 so that oftentimes old age, poverty, features, and ill 
 fame, with such like grounds not worthy to be repre- 
 sented to a magistrate, have yet moved many to sus- 
 pect and defame their neighbors, to the unspeakable 
 prejudice of Christian charity ; a late instance whereof 
 we had in the west, in the business of the sorceries ex- 
 ercised upon the Laird of Bargarran's daughter, anno 
 1697, a time when persons of more goodness and 
 esteem than most of their calumniators were defamed 
 for witches, and which was occasioned mostly by the 
 orwardness and absurd credulity of divers otherwise 
 
 worthy ministers of the gospel, and some topping pro- 
 fessors in and about the city of Glasgow.' 
 
 Those who doubted of the sense of the law, or rea- 
 sonableness of the practice, in such cases, began to 
 take courage, and state their objections boldly. In 
 the year 1704, a frightful instance of popular bigotry 
 occurred at Pittenween. A strolling vagabond, who 
 aft'ectcd fits, laid an accusation of witchcraft against 
 two women, who were accordingly seized on, and im- 
 prisoned with the usual severities. One of the unhap- 
 py creatures, Janet Cornfoot by name, escajied from 
 prison, but was unhappily caught and brought back to 
 Pittenween, where she fell into the bands of a ferocious 
 mob, consisting of rude seamen and fishers. The 
 magistrates made no attempts for her rescue, and the 
 crowd exercised their brutal pleasure on the poor old 
 woman, pelted her with stones, swung her suspended 
 on a rope betwixt a ship and the shore, and finally end- 
 ed her miserable existence by throwing a door over 
 her as she lay exhausted on the beach and heaping 
 stones upon it till she was pressed to death. As even 
 the existing law against witch craft was transgressed 
 by this brutal riot, a warm attack was made upon the 
 magistrates and ministers of the town, by those who 
 were shocked at a tragedy of such a horrible cast. 
 There were answers published, in which the parties 
 assailed were zealously defended. The superior autho- 
 rities were expected to take up the affair, but it so hap- 
 pened, during the general distraction of the country 
 concerning the Union, that the murder went without 
 the investigation which a crime so horrid demanded. 
 Still, however, it was something gained that the cruelty 
 was exposed to the public. The voice of general opin- 
 ion was now appealed to, and, in the long run, the 
 sentiments which it advocates are commonly those of 
 good sense and humanity. 
 
 The officers in the higher branches of the law dared 
 now assert their official authority, and reserve for 
 their own decision cases of supposed witchcraft 
 which the fear of public clamor had induced them 
 formerly to leave in the hands of the inferior judges, 
 operated upon by all the prejudices of the country 
 and the populace. 
 
 In 1718, the celebrated lawyer, Robert Dundas, 
 of Amiston, then King's advocate, wrote a severe 
 letter to the Sheriff-depute of Caithness, in the first 
 place, as having neglected to communicate officially 
 certain precognitions which he had led respecting 
 some recent practises of witchcraft in his county. 
 The advocate reminded this local judge, that the 
 duty of inferior magistrates, in such eases, was to 
 advise with the King's Counsel, first, whether they 
 should be made subject of a trial or not ; and, if so, 
 before what court, and in what manner, it should 
 take place. He also called the magistrate's attention 
 to a report, that he, the Sheriff-depute, intended to 
 judge in the case himself ; ' a thing of too great dif- 
 ficulty to be tried without very deliberate advice, 
 and beyond the jurisdiction of an inferior court.' 
 The Sheriff-depute sends, with his apology, the pre- 
 cognition of the affair, which is one of the most non- 
 sensical in this nonsensical department of the law. 
 A certain carpenter, named William Montgomery, 
 was so infested with cats, which, as his servant- 
 maid reported, 'spoke among themselves,' that he 
 fell in a rage upon a party of these animals with 
 his Highland arms of knife, dirk, and broadsword, 
 and his professional weapon of an axe, making such 
 a dispersion that they were quiet for the night. In 
 consequence of his blows, two witches were said to 
 have died. The case of a third, named Nin-Gilbert, 
 was still more remarkable. Her leg being broken, 
 the injured limb withered, pined, and finally fell 
 off; on which the hag was enclosed in prison, where 
 she also died : and the question which remained 
 was, whether any process should be directed against 
 persons whom, in her compelled confession, she 
 had, as usual, informed against. The Lord Ad- 
 vocate, as may be supposed, quashed all further 
 procedure. 
 
 In 1720, an unlucky boy, the third sou of James, 
 
 Lord Torphichen, took it into his head, under in- 
 structions, it is said, from a knavish governor, to 
 play the possessed and bewitched person, laying 
 the cause ot his distress on certain old witches in 
 Calder, near to which village his father had his 
 mansion. The women were imprisoned, and one or 
 two of them died ; but the crown counsel would not 
 proceed to trial. The noble family also began to see 
 through the cheat. The boy was sent to sea, and 
 though he is said at one time to have been disposed 
 to try his fits while on board, when the discipline of 
 the navy proved too severe for his cunning, in pro- 
 cess of time he became a good sailor, assisted gal- 
 lantly in defence of the vessel against the pirates of 
 Angria, and finally was drowned in a storm. 
 
 In the year 1722, a Sheriff-depute of Sutherland, 
 Captain David Ross, of Littlodean, took it upon him 
 in flagrant violation of the then established rules of 
 jurisdiction, to pronounce the last sentence of death 
 for witchcraft which was ever passed in Scotland. 
 The victim was an insane old woman belonging to 
 the parish of Loth, who had so little idea of situa- 
 tion as to rejoice at the sight of the fire which was 
 destined to consume her. She had a daughter lame 
 both of hands and feet, a circumstance attributed to 
 the witch's having been used to transform her into 
 a pony, and get her shod by the devil. It does not 
 appear that any punishment was inflicted for this 
 cruel abuse of the law on the person of a creature 
 so helpless ; but the son of the lame daughter, he 
 himself distinguished by the same misfortune, was 
 living so lately as to receive the charity of the pres- 
 ent Marchioness of Stafford, Countess of Sutherland 
 in her own right, to whom the poor of her exten- 
 sive country are as well known as those of the high- 
 er order. 
 
 Since this deplorable action, there has been no 
 judicial interference in Scotland on account of witch- 
 craft. 
 
 There is another proof, if any were required, that 
 the inhabitants of Carrickfergus had a community 
 of manners and customs with their neighbors across 
 the channel, in their deeming it necessary to restrain 
 the too common and noisy nuisance of woman- 
 scolding, as the following extract from the town 
 records shows : — 
 
 ' October, 1.574, ordered and agreede by the hole 
 Court, that all manner of Skolds which shal be open- 
 ly detected of Skolding or evill wordes in manner of 
 Skolding, and for the same shal be condemned be- 
 fore Mr. Major and his brethren, shal be drawne at 
 the Sterne of a boate in the water from the ende of 
 the Peare rounde abought the Queenes majesties 
 Castell in manner of ducking, and after when a cage 
 shal be made the Party so condemned for a Skold 
 shal be therein punished at the discretion of the 
 Major.' It appears that a cage was got soon after, 
 and delinquents punished in the manner noticed ; 
 and that regular lists were kept of all scolds, and 
 their names laid before the grand juries. The cage, 
 or ducking stool, stood on the quay ; in a deed grant- 
 ed to John Davys, July 6th, 1671, is the following 
 notice of it. ' One small plot of land or house 
 stead, situated upon the Key, on the north-east, 
 adjoining to the Ducking-stool on said Key, now 
 standing.' ' 
 
 It would appear from a recent report of the com- 
 missioners of the island revenue of Great Britain and 
 Ireland, that the adulteration of tobacco, prompted by 
 the high duty levied on that article, is carried to a 
 great extent, especially in Ireland — sugar, alum, tar, 
 molasses, chicory leaves, dried rhubarb leaves, liquors, 
 oil and lampblack, (the two last being used as coloring 
 matcriah) being extensively employed for that purpose. 
 SnufT is found to be mixed with sard, salt, orris root, 
 ferruginous earths, chalk colored with prcoxide of iron, 
 roasted oat meal, fustic and the promate of potash ; 
 the capacity of tobacco to absord water is a quality of 
 which the adulterators largely avail themselves. 
 
22 
 
 IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 INTELLECTUAL IMPROVEMENT. 
 
 At^rceinj; in opinion with a (x'K-hratt'd writer in iho 
 Spoclutor, timt ' nliiit si'iilpluix' is to ik block of mar- 
 ble, KiliK-nlion is to the mind of man— thiit the philo- 
 soplier, ihc poet, the Iiero, the wise, the t:rent, or the 
 gooil man, very often lie hid in a plcbinn, which ii pro- 
 per cdiie«tionmii;lit bring to linht ;' and convineed as 
 we nro, that we eould not render a greater service to 
 .many of our renders, than by occasionly turning a 
 Birions attention to the subject, we shall make no ex- 
 cuse for laying before ihcin the foUowieg extract from 
 a very popular American work, repuldished in Eng- 
 land and Scotland, and which has already, within a 
 verv short time, gone through several editions of vari- 
 ous sizes and forms. 
 
 Thi great mass of mankind consider the intellectual 
 powers as susceptible of a certain degree of develop- 
 ment in childhood to prepare the individual for the 
 active duties of life. This degree of progress they 
 suppose to be made before the age of twenty is attain- 
 ed, and hence they talk of an education being tini^lled! 
 Now if a parent wishes to convey tiic idea that his 
 daughter has closed her studies at school, or that his 
 son has finished his preparatory professional studies, 
 and is ready to commence practice, there is perhaps no 
 strong objection to his using the common phrase that 
 the education is finished; but in any general or proper 
 use of language there is no such thing as a finished 
 education. The most successful scholar that ever 
 left a school, or took his honorary degree at college, 
 never arrived at a good place to stop in his intellectual 
 course. In fact, the farther he goes the more desirous 
 he will feel to go on ; and if you wish to find an in- 
 stance of the greatest eagerness and interest with which 
 the pursuit of knowledge is prosecuted, you will find it 
 undoubtedly in the case of the most accomplished and 
 thorongh scholar which the country can furnish, who 
 has spent a long life in study, and who finds that the 
 further hegois, the more and more widely docs the 
 boundless field of intelligence open before him. 
 
 Give up then at once all idea of finishing your edu- 
 cation. The sole object of the course of discipline aj 
 any literary institution in our land is not to finish, but 
 just to show you how they begin; — to give you an im- 
 pulse and a direction upon that course, which you 
 ought to pursue with unabated and uninterrupted ar- 
 dor as long as you live. 
 
 It is unquestionably true that every person, whatever 
 are his circumstances or condition in life, ought at all 
 times to be making some steady etTorts to enlarge his 
 stock of knowledge, to increase his menial powers, and 
 thus to expand the field of his intellectual vision. I 
 enpposc most of my readers are convinced of this, and 
 arc desirous, if the way ran only be distinctly pointed 
 out, of making such etforts. In fact, no inquiry is 
 more freiiuenily made by intelligent young persons 
 than this, — ' What cour.-e of reading shall I jiursue ? 
 What book shall I select, and what plan in reading 
 them shall I adopt .'■ These inciuiries I now propose 
 to answer. 
 
 The objects of study are of several kinds; some of the 
 most important I shall enumerate. 
 
 1. To increase our intellectual powers. Every one 
 knows that there is a ditf rence of ability in dirtVrcnt 
 minds, but it is not so distinctly understood that every 
 one's abilities may be increased or strengthened by a 
 kind of culture adapted expressly to this purpose; — I 
 mean a culture which is intended not loaddto'he 
 stock of knowledge, but only to increase intellectual 
 power. Suppose, (or example, that when Uoliinson 
 Crusoe on his desolate island had first found Fiiday 
 the savage, he had said to himsolf as follows : 
 
 'This man looks wild and barbarous enou;;h. Ik- 
 is 'o stay with me and help me in my various plans, 
 but he could help me much more cfl"'^<'iu dly if he wis 
 more of an intelleciual being, and le>sofa mere animal. 
 Kow I can increase his intellectual powur by culture, 
 and I will. But what shall I teach him V 
 
 On reflecting a little further upon the subject, he 
 would say to himself a^ follows: 
 
 • I must not always teach him things necessary 
 
 for him to know in order to assist mc in my work, j A very fine example of this is the study of conic 
 but I must try to tCBcb him to think for himself, sections, a difficult branch of the course of mathc- 
 
 Then he will be far more valuable as a servant than 
 if he has to depend upon me for everything he does.' 
 Accordingly, some evening when the two, master 
 and man, have finished the labors of the day, Kob- 
 inson is walking upon the sandy beach with his wild 
 savage by his side, and he comraeneos to give him 
 his first lesson in mathematics. He picks up a 
 slender and pointed shell, and with it draws care- 
 fully a circle upon the sand. 
 ' What is that ?' says Friday. 
 • It is what we call a circle,' says Robinson ; 'I 
 want you now to come and stand here, and atten- 
 tively consider what I am going to tell you about 
 it." 
 
 Now, Friday has, we will suppose, never given 
 his serious mental effort upon any subject for five 
 minutes at a time, in his life. The simjile mathe- 
 matical principle is a complete labyrinth of perplex- 
 ity to him. He comes up and looks at the smooth 
 and beautiful curve, which his master has drawn in 
 the sand, with a gaze of stupid amazement. 
 
 'Now, listen carefully to what I say,' says Rob- 
 inson, ' and see if you can understand it. Do you 
 see this little point 1 make in the middle of the 
 circle ?' 
 
 Friday says he does, and wonders what is to come 
 from the magic character which he sees before him. 
 ' This,' continues Robinson, ' is a circle, and that 
 point is the centre Now, if I draw lines from the 
 centre in any direction to the outside, these lines 
 will all be equal.' 
 
 So saying he draws several lines. He sets Friday 
 to measuring them. Friday sees that they are equal, 
 and is pleased, from two distinct causes ; one that 
 he has successfully exercised his thinking powers, 
 and the other that he has learned something which 
 he never knew before. 
 
 I wish now that the reader would understand 
 that Robinson does not take this course with Fri- 
 day because he wishes him to understand the na- 
 ture of the circle. Suppose we were to say to him, 
 ' Why did you take such a course as that with your 
 savage ? You can teach him much more useful 
 things than the properties of the circle. What good 
 ■will it do to him to know how to make circles ? Do 
 you expect him to draw geometrical diagrams for 
 you, OE to calculate and project eclipses ?' 
 
 'No,' Robinson would reply, 'I do not care 
 about Friday's understanding the properties of the 
 circle. But I do want him to be a thinking being, 
 and if I can induce him to think half an hour stead- 
 ily and carefully, it is of no consequence upon what 
 subject his thoughts are employed. I chose the cir- 
 cle because that seemed easy and distinct — suitable 
 lor the first lessson. I do not know that he will 
 ever have occasion for the fact that the radii of a 
 circle are equal, as long as he shalHive — but he will 
 have occasion for the power of patient attention and 
 thought, which he acquired while attempting to un- 
 derstand that subject.' 
 
 This would unquestionably be sound philosophy, 
 and a savage who should study such a lesson on the 
 beach of his own wild island, would for ever after 
 be less of a savage than before. The effect upon his 
 mental powers of one single effort like that would 
 last, and a series of such efforts would transform 
 him from a fierce and ungovernable but stupid ani- 
 mal, to a cultivated and intellectual man. 
 
 Thus it is with all education. One great object 
 is to increase the powers, and this is entirely dis- 
 tinct from the acquisition of knowledge. Scholars 
 very often ask, when pursuing some difficult study, 
 ' What good will it do me to know ihis r' But that 
 is not the question. They ought to ask, ' What 
 good will it do me to learn it ? What effect upon 
 my habits of thinking, and upon my intellectual 
 powers will be produced by the efforts to examine 
 and to conquer these difficulties f' 
 
 mntics pursued in college ; n study which from its 
 difiiculty, and its apparent UKelessness, is often very 
 unjiopular in the ela.ss pursuing it. The question is 
 very often asked, ' What good will it ever do us in 
 after-life to understand all these mysteries of the Pa- 
 rabola ani the Hyperbola, and the Ordinates and 
 Abscissas, and Asymtotes ?' The answer is, that 
 the knowledge of the facts which y'lU acquire will 
 probably do you no good whatever. That is not 
 the object, and every college officer knows full well 
 that the mathematical prineiiiles which this science 
 demonstrates, are not brought into use in after-life 
 by one scholar in ten. But every college officer, 
 and every intelligent studint wlio will watch the 
 operations of his own mind and the inllucncc which 
 such exercises exert upon it, knows equally well 
 that the study of the higher mathematics produces 
 an effect in enlarging and disciplining the intellec- 
 tual powers, which the whole of life will not oblit- 
 erate. 
 
 Do not shrink, then, from difiicult work in your 
 efforts at intellectual improvement. You ought, if 
 you wish to secure the greatest advantage, to have 
 some difficult work, that you may acquire habits of 
 patient research, and increase and strengthen your 
 intellectual powers. 
 
 Evil Effects op Lovk. — A greater number of 
 young girls between the ages ot fifteen and eighteen, 
 and of young men between eighteen and twenty- 
 four, fall victims to what they call love, than to any 
 other particular class of disease ; and more particu- 
 larly in England and Ireland, than in any other 
 country upon earth. This is from the force of early 
 impressions peculiar to these countries, and of com- 
 paratively recent growth, the effect produced by a 
 certain class of romance writers. These writers give 
 an obliquity to the young mind which leads to de- 
 struction. Scarcely has a young girl laid down her 
 ' Reading made Easy,' than she becomes a sub.scrib- 
 er to some trashy library ; and the hours which, in 
 the country, or in a land -where education is un- 
 known, they would employ in jumping about in the 
 open air, are now consumed w ith intensity of thought 
 upon the maudlin miseries of some hapless heroine 
 of romance, the abortion of a diseased brain. Her 
 ' imitativcness,' as Spurzheira would phrenologically 
 observe, becomes developed, and she fixes on her 
 favorite heroine, whom she apes in everything — sigh- 
 ing for her sorrow, and moaning to be as miserable. 
 She fixes immediately upon some figure of a man — 
 some Edwin, or Edgar, or Ethelbirt — which she 
 thinks will harmonize with the horrors of the pic- 
 ture, and she then employs her tears and her tor- 
 tures to her heart's satisfaction. Langor, inaction, 
 late hours, late rising and incessant sighing, derange 
 her digestion — the cause continues, the effects in- 
 crease, and hectic fever puts an end to the romance. 
 We have known a young Irish lady who read her- 
 self into this situation. She was, at the age of thir- 
 teen, as lively, as healthy, and as beautiful a little 
 promise of womanhood as the country ever produc- 
 ed. When the Leadenhall street troop of roman- 
 cers crossed her way, an officer of a very different 
 sort of troop became her hero. She would 'sit in 
 her bower' (the second fioor window,) and gaze — 
 and gaze — and gaze upon his steed, his helmet and 
 his streaming black-haired crest, as he passed to 
 mount guard, until she sobbed aloud in ecstacy of 
 melancholy. She never spoke to this ' knight,' nor 
 did she seek to have an acquaintance — lest, perhaps, 
 that a formal proposal, a good leg of n'Utton dinner, 
 and all the realities of domestic happiness might dis- 
 sipate the sweet romantic misery she so much de- 
 lighted in. A year passed over — ' she pined in 
 thought, and within a green and yellow melan- 
 choly,' entered a convent, where she died in a few 
 months ! 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 23 
 
 Pkactical Advick to Irisiimun. — Ono com- 1 
 plrtini ai;iiinst Irblimon ii, thiu they arc unstable and 
 pioiul. It is conimonlv said, ' You c;innot trust an 
 Irishman.' VVIiy '. Simply from tills oireunistanco 
 — that Irishmen are warm ami lively in their tempera- 
 ment — in other words, volatile. Now, the springs 
 fiom — from what? Is it from the climate, from the 
 soil, or from what ? Why, our oouutrymcn have not 
 been educated to restrain themselves. Murk what we 
 say. We refer all the dift'erence between Irishmen 
 and others to education — ind that may be corrected. 
 But if in sayinp that an Irishman cannot be trusted, 
 it is meant to be said, that ho is unstable in his friend- 
 ships, unstable in the performance of his moral duties, 
 unstable in all those things which render him worthy 
 of confidence, many affecting instances refute the as- 
 sertion. But the cause of this objection lies in a cir- 
 cumstunce which will he readily appreciated. Ireland 
 has been so long the scoff and the derision of Eng- 
 l.ind, that Irishmen are extremely — morbidly — sensi- 
 tive or every thing relative to their own country. They 
 cannot endure that a whisper should be heard against 
 her. They would almost break friendship with one to 
 whom they were much attached, if he gave utterance 
 to a sarcasm on the land of their birth. And the 
 feeling is natural. It springs from that principle In 
 the human heart which causes us to resent with hatred 
 the contempt of others . But we should control it. If 
 our country is sneered at, let us not indicate soreness, 
 wrath, or vexation. No ! We should act as if we 
 were above these things. Wc should show by our 
 disposition that a time is rapidly coming when Ireland 
 will not afford a sneer. And instead of boasting, we 
 should act ; let all the world not merely know, but let 
 them see, that from the Emerald Isle, some good can 
 come. To attain this, let every Irishman labor that 
 whatever he is doing, shall be done well. 
 
 Again, Irishmen are blamed for being hasty in what- 
 ever they do. They form hasty attachments — break 
 them as hastily — are easily pleased — easily provoked 
 
 -soon excited by jealousy — and quickly convinced by 
 candor. Let us take care to avoid this characteristic 
 — for by it we lose a great deal — much more than we 
 gain. A pretty face will make Paddy mad to get 
 married — a fine fellow will make him anxious to get 
 acquainted — a sour look will make him throw every 
 consideration to the winds, and he will fight his friend 
 — a generous action will make him clasp you to his 
 heart, and offer you all he has in the world. But let 
 us avoid this also. Try to keep a guard over this im- 
 petuous feelings — be wary— be prudent — and when 
 necessary, be siill-minded. If Paddy, with bis warm 
 heart, had Sandy's caution and John Bull's bluffncss, 
 what a fine fellow he would be ! 
 
 Social Improvement. — A principal characteristic 
 by which men is distinguished, is the faculty of growing 
 wiser by experience. Every other race of animals 
 seems destined to remain for ever, nearly what it was 
 at its first formation, while human creatures, instructed 
 and improved by the lessons of their predecessors, be- 
 queath, in their turn, to those who follow them, the 
 precious legacy, not only of their wisdom, butoftheir 
 folly. — [Chenevix on National Character. 
 
 Apologde. — Wise men say nothing in dangerous 
 times. The lion, you know, called the sheep to ask 
 her 'if his breath smelt?! She said, 'aye.' Ho I>it 
 off her head for a fool. He called the wolf, and asked 
 him. He said, 'No.' He tore him in pieces (or a 
 flatterer. At last he called the fox, and asked him. 
 ' Truly he had got a cold, and could not smell. — 
 [Selden. 
 
 A FoVL Joke Who was the greatest chicken- 
 killer, according to Shakspcarc "- King Claudius, 
 in Hamlet, who did 'murder most foul.' 
 
 Faiuies. — Sir Walter Scott in his ' Letters on 
 Dcmonolgy and Witchcraft, quotes the following 
 story from an old work entitled ' Saddueismu.s tri- 
 umphatus,' by Joseph Glanville, printed at Edin- 
 burgh in 1700, as illustrative of the superstitious 
 notion among the Irish that persons when engaged 
 in some unlawful or sinful action were more than 
 usually exposed to the power of the fairies. 
 
 The butler of a gentleman, a neighbor of the Earl 
 of Orrery, who was sent to purchase cards, in cross- 
 ing the fields saw a table surrounded by people ap- 
 parently feasting and making merry. They rose to 
 salute him, and invited him to join in their revel ; 
 but a friendly voice from the party whispered in hi.s 
 ear, ' do nothing which the company invite you to.' 
 Accordinglj^ when he refused to join in feasting, the 
 table vanished and the company began to dance, and 
 play on musical instruments ; but the butler would 
 not take part in these recreations. They then left 
 off dancing and betook themselves to work ; but 
 neither in this would the mortal join them. He 
 was then left alone for the present ; but in spite of 
 the exertions of my lord Orrery, in spite of two 
 bishops who were guests at the time, in spite of the 
 celebrated Mr. Greatrak, it was all they could do 
 to prevent the butler from being carried off bodily 
 from amongst them by the fairies who considered 
 him as their lawful prey. They raised him in the 
 air above the heads of the mortals, who could only 
 run beneath to break his fall when they pleased to 
 let him go. The spectre which formerly advised the 
 poor man, continued to haunt him, and at length 
 discovered himself to be the ghost of an acquaint- 
 ance who had been dead for seven years. ' You 
 know," added he, ' I lived a loose life, and ever 
 since I have been hurried up and down in a restless 
 condition, with the company you saw, and shall be 
 till the day of judgment.' He added that if the but- 
 ler had acknowledged God in all his ■ways, he had 
 not suffered so much by their means ; he reminded 
 him that he had not prayed to God in the mornin] 
 before he met with the company in the fields, and 
 that he was then going on an unlawful business. 
 
 It is pretended that Lord Orrery confirmed the 
 whole of this story, even to the having seen the but- 
 ler raised into the air by the invisible beings who 
 strove to carry him off, only he did not bear witness 
 to the passage which seems to call the purchase of 
 cards an unlawful errand. 
 
 SlNoiNO IN rAUT.s.— It is a question worthy of 
 careful investigation, whether a person whose voice 
 i s broken is not all the more competent to sing in 
 'pieces.' 
 
 Influence op Female Society. — It is better 
 for you to pass an evening once or twice in a lady's 
 drawing-room, even though the conversation is slow, 
 and you know the girl's song by heart, than in a club, 
 tavern, or the pit of a theatre. All amusements of 
 youth tCk which virtuous women are not admitted, rely 
 on it, are deleterious in their nature. All men who 
 avoid female society have dull perceptions, and arc 
 stupid, or have gross tastes, and revolt against what is 
 pure. Your club swaggerers, who are sucking the 
 butts of billiard cues all night, call female society in- 
 sipid. Poetry is inspid to a yokel; beauty has no 
 charms for a blind man ; music does not please a poor 
 beast who docs not know one tune from another; aud 
 as a true epicure is hardly ever tired of water sauchy 
 and brown hrend and butter, I protest I can sit for a 
 whole night taking to a well-regulated, kindly woman, 
 about her girl coming out, or her hoy at Eton, and like 
 the evening's entertaining. One of the great bent fits 
 a man may derive from woman's society is, that he is 
 hound to be respectful to them. The habits is of great 
 good to your moral man, depend upon it. (Jur edu- 
 cation makes of us the most eminently selfish men in 
 the world. We fight for ourselves, we push for our- 
 selves, wc yawn for ourselves, wc light our pipes, and 
 say we won't go out; wo prefer ourselves, and our 
 ease ; and the greatest good that comes to a man 
 from a woman'.s society is, that he has to think for 
 somebody besides himself, somebody to whom he is 
 hound to he constantly attentive and respectful. — 
 Thackary. 
 
 ExTiiAORDiNAnv ADVENTURE. — Louis the Fif. 
 teenth despatched into Germany a confidential peison, 
 on a mission of importance ; on this gentleman re- 
 turning post, with four servants, night surprised him 
 in a jioor hamlet, where there was not even an ale- 
 house. He asked could he lodge at the manor one 
 night, and was answered that it had been forsaken 
 some time ; that only a farmer was there by day-light, 
 whose house stood apart from the manor which was 
 haunted by spirits that came again and beat people. 
 The traveller said that he was not afraid of spirits, 
 and to show that he was not, his attendants should re- 
 main in the hamlet, and, that he would go alone to the 
 manor-house, where he would be a match for any 
 spirits that visited there — that he had heard much of 
 the departed coming again, and he had long had curi- 
 osity to see some of them. 
 
 He established himself at the manor-house — had a 
 good fire lighted — and as he did not intend going to 
 bed, had pipes and tobacco brought, with wine; he 
 also laid on the table two brace of loaded pistols. 
 About midnight he heard a dreadful rattling of chains, 
 and saw a man of large stature, who beconed, and 
 made a sign for his coming to him. The gentleman 
 placed two pistols in his belt, but the third in his pock- 
 et, and took the fourth in one hand, and the candle in 
 the other. He then followed the phantom, who going 
 down the stairs, crossed the court into a passage. 
 But when the gentleman was at the end of the passage, 
 his footing failed, and he slipped down a trap door. 
 He observed, through an ill-jointed partition, between 
 him and a cellar, that he was in the power of several 
 men, who were deliberating whether they should kill 
 him. He also learned, by their conversation, that 
 they were coiners. He raised his voice and desired 
 leave to speak to them. This was granted. ' Gen- 
 tleman,' said he, ' my coming hither shows my want 
 ijf good sense and discretion, but must convince you 
 that I am a man ot honor, for a scoundrel is generally 
 a coward, I promise upon honor, all secresy respecting 
 this adventure. Avoid murdering one that never in- 
 tended to hurt you. Consider the consequences of 
 putting me to death : I have upon me dispatches, 
 which I am to deUver into the King of France's 
 hands ; four of my servants are now in the neighbor- 
 ing hamlet. Depend upon it such strict search will 
 be made to ascertain my fate, that it must be discov- 
 ered.' 
 
 The coiners resolved to take his word ; and they 
 swore him, to tell frightful stories about his adventures 
 in the manor. He said, the next day, that he had seen 
 enough to frighten a man to death ; no one could 
 doubt of the truth, when the fact was warranted by 
 one of his character. This was continued for twelve 
 years, after that period, when the gentleman was at 
 his country seat with some friends, he was informed 
 that a man, with two horses, that he led, waited on 
 the bridge, and desired to speak to him, that he could 
 not be persuaded to come nearer. When the gentle- 
 man appeared, accompanied by his friends, the stran- 
 ger called out, ' Stop, Sir, I have but a word with you, 
 those to whom you promised, twelve years ago. not to 
 publish what you knew regarding them, are obliged to 
 you for the observance of this secret ; and now they 
 discharge you from your promise. They have got a 
 competency, and are no longer in the kingdon ; but 
 before they would allow me to follow them, they en- 
 gaged me to beg your acceptance of two horses, and 
 here I leave them.' The man, who had tied the two 
 horses to a tree, fetting spars to his horse, went off so 
 rapidly, that they instantly lost sight of him. Then 
 
 the hero of the story related to his friends what had 
 
 happened to him. 
 
 The following is an infallible criterion for ascertain- 
 ing a true Irishman : 
 
 By Mnc niid O 
 
 You'll always know 
 True Irishmen, they say; 
 
 For, if they luck. 
 
 Both O and JIac, 
 Ko Irishmen are they. 
 
24 
 
 IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 Carrickfergas is the assize town of the coantry. It 
 was at a very early period considered rather an impor- 
 tant situation, and was the scene of several sanguinary 
 conflicts. Wo are informed by Mr. M'Skimmin in his 
 History of Carrickfergus, that the walls, which were 
 flanked with seven bastions, are still pretty entire, 
 about six feet thick on the top towards the land, and 
 about eighteen feet high, coarsely but strongly built in 
 the manner called grouting ; the comers of the bas- 
 tions of cut yellowish freestone, diff'ercnt from any 
 stone found in thut neighborhood. The land side was 
 also strengthened by a wet ditch, now nearly filled up. 
 There were four gates anciently distinguished by the 
 following names : Glcnarm or Spittal gate. Spittal 
 gate, now North gate, and West gate, now Irish gate, 
 were formerly entered by drawbridges ; the drawbride 
 and deep trench of the latter remained within memory, 
 and part of the arch over tlie former is yet standing. 
 Water-gate and Quay gate were defended by battle- 
 ments over them. 
 
 Adjoining, on the south of the town, is an ancient 
 castle belonging to the crown, occupied as a miUitary 
 garrison, and magazine to the northern district. It 
 stands on a rock that projects into the sea, so that, at 
 common tides, three sides of the building are enclosed 
 by water. The greatest height of the rock is at its 
 Bouthcrn extremity, where it is about thirty feet, 
 shelving considerably towards the land, the walls of 
 the castle following exactly its different windings. 
 Towards the town are two towers, called from their 
 shape half moons, and between these is the only en- 
 trance, which is defended by a straight passage, with em- 
 brasures for fire-arms. About the centre of this pas- 
 sage was formerly a drawbridge ; a part of the barbi- 
 can that protected the bridge can still be seen. A 
 dam west of the castle, is believed to have originally 
 been made to supply the ditch at this place with water. 
 Between the half-moons is a strong gate, above which 
 is a machicolation, or aperture, for letting fall stones, 
 melted lead, or the like, on the assailants. Inside this 
 gate is a portcullis, and an aperture for the like pur- 
 pose as that just mentioned ; the arches on each side 
 of this aperture are of the Gothic kind, and the only 
 ones observed about the building. In the gun room 
 of these lowers arc a few pieces of light ordnance. A 
 
 TOWN OF CAEEICKFEKGtrS. 
 
 window in the east tower, inside, is ornamented with 
 round pillars ; the columns are five feet high, including 
 base and capital, and five inches and a half in diame- 
 ter. The centre column seems to be a rude attempt 
 at the Ionic ; the flank columns have the leaves of the 
 Corinthian ; their bases consist of two toruses. With- 
 in the gates is the lower yard, or balium ; on the right 
 are the guard room and a barrack ; the latter was 
 built in 1802. Opposite these are large vaults, said 
 to be bomb proof, over which are a few neat apart- 
 ments occupied by the officers of the garrison, ordnance 
 storekeeper, and master gunner. A little southward 
 are the armourer's forge and a furnace for heating 
 shot ; near which, on the outer wall of the castle, is a 
 small projecting tower, called the lion's den. 
 
 Southward, on the right, is the passage into the in- 
 ner yard or uppeubalium, by a gate with a semi-circu- 
 lar acrh, above which is a long aperture, circular at the 
 top. Inside, this aperlure opens considerably ; and, 
 on each side, are nitches in the wall, apparently to 
 protect those who defended the gate — northward of 
 which are several like apertures, and on the south a 
 square tower, near which is a small door, or sally-port, 
 with semi-circular arch, and ornamented. The open- 
 ings above this gate, and in the wall, appear to have 
 been originally intended for the discharging of arrows; 
 the top of the wall overhead seems to have been for- 
 merly garrated for a like purpose. 
 
 Within this yard, which is encompassed by a high 
 wall, is a small magazine, built a few years since, sev- 
 eral store-houses, and the keep, or donjon, a square 
 tower ninety feet high. Both the south and the east 
 sides of this tower face in the inner yard, its west wall 
 forming a part of the outside wall of the building ; its 
 north wall faces the outer yard. The walls of the 
 keep are eight feet ten inches ihick ; the entrance is on 
 the east by a semi-circular door tn the second story. 
 On the left of the entrance is a small door, now built 
 up, by which was formerly a passage in the south-east 
 comer, by helical stone stairs, to the ground floor and 
 ' top of the tower. In this passage were loop holes for 
 [ the admission of air and light ; and opposite each 
 story a small door that opened into the ditVerent apart- 
 ments. At present the ascent to the top is party by 
 wooden stairs inside. The ground story of the keep 
 
 is bomb proof, with small slite, looking into the inner 
 yard. It is believed to have been anciently a state 
 prison, and is now the principal magazine in this gar- 
 rison. Several rooms in the other stories are occupied 
 as an armory, and for other military stores. On the 
 top of the tower are two small houses ; that on the 
 south-east comer covers the month of the passage ; 
 the other, on the south-west corner, seems to have 
 been intended for a sentinel. 
 
 This tower is divided into five stories ; the largest 
 room was formerly in the third story, with semi-circu- 
 lar windows. It was called Fergus's dining-room, 
 and was twenty-five feet ten inches high, forty feet 
 long, and thirty-seven feet deep, the water of which 
 was anciently celebrated for medicinal purposes. This 
 well is now nearly filled up with rubbish. 
 
 The following notice of this cai-tle is given in a sur- 
 vey by George Clarkson in 1567; ' The building of 
 the said castle on the south part is three towers, viz., 
 the gate-house, tower in the middle thereof, which is 
 the entry to a draw-bridge over a dry moat ; and in said 
 tower is a prison and porter lodge, and over the same 
 a fair lodging ; and in the conrtain between the gate- 
 house, and west tower in the comer, being of divers 
 squares called Cradyfergus, is a fair and comely build- 
 ing, a chapel, and divers houses of oflice, on the 
 ground, and above the great chamber, and the lords' 
 lodging, all which is now in great decay as well in the 
 conventure being lead, also in timber and glass, and 
 without help and reparation it will soon come to utter 
 ruin.' 
 
 Since the first appearance of ' potato disease,' as it 
 is called, there never was at this date so little of it to be 
 seen in the county of Kerry, and we might almost say 
 it has not appeared at all but for a few patches in isola- 
 ted places that are not as yet on tUc increase. In the 
 item of corn the farmers will book less and less, as till- 
 age is on the decline, particularly turnip culture, on 
 account of the increase in the value of labor. The crops 
 of wheat and oats never looked more promising as to 
 produce. Meadows are heavier than they have been 
 in the memory of that great authority, ' the oldest in- 
 habitant,' and, accordingly, the price of hay is fifty per 
 cent, under 185". [Tralee Chronicle. 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 26 
 
 TO CORRESPONDENTS. 
 
 [C7" Our CoitUKSFONniiNTS should forward communiOH- 
 tions intended for insertion in the Mhcfllninj, not Inter thitn 
 the Snturdfty before tlie day of publication, as our increiis- 
 ing circulation compels us to po to press every Moniiiiy 
 morniui;; and should be addressed— ' Editors of the Irish 
 Miscellany, lloston, Mass.' Subscribers should mention tlie 
 township, county and State in which they reside. 
 
 *J. E. F.,* Lowell.— Too late for insertion tbis week. It 
 will appear in our next. 
 
 ' iNQUiREU-'-The number of Catholios in Prussia and Po- 
 land is believed to bo near 15.000,000. 
 
 'J. O'Brien,' New York.— It is stated on fjood authority, 
 that upwards of two millions of the Irish people speak the 
 Irish language almost exclusively. 
 
 *Dardt McKeon.'— Your last efHision is laid over, be- 
 cause, before receiving it, wo had in type our allotted por- 
 tion of original poetry. 
 
 ' John Sheehan ' Albany, N. Y.— Many thanks for your 
 kind favors. We sliall be happy to hear from you often. 
 Application will induce devotion to literature, and what 
 may at first (Seem irksome, will very soon afford you the 
 highest pleasure. ^ 
 
 'J. O'D.' Dublin, Ireland.— We have forwarded to your 
 address all the numbers save one of the Miscellany, asked 
 for by you, and shall forward that by next mail. We feel 
 gratetul for your prolTered aid, and hope by-and-by to be 
 able to avail ourselves of it. Meantime, any communication 
 from so able a source would be thankfully received. The 
 ' Celtic Union ' reaches this office regularly. 
 
 *J W. S.,' Albany.— In answer to your inquiry as to who 
 wrote the best early history of England : it is considered by 
 many that that of Mons. Kapin is tne best; but to our view, 
 notwithstanding his intense English proclivities, Dr. Lin- 
 
 fird is by all cads the most impartial narrator of British 
 istory, and is daily becoming more and more appreciated. 
 
 'Irishman,' Jlilwaukie, Wis.— Dean Swift was born in 
 the city of Dublin, Ireland. His well known patriotic lines 
 has settled forever this question. We quote from memory : 
 'Britain, confess this land of mine 
 First gave you human knowledge and divine; 
 Whose saints and sages went from hence, 
 And made your sons converts to God and sense.' 
 
 ' H. 0-' — J. Howard Payne, an American, was the author 
 of 'Home, Sweet Home,' which was set to an old Sicilian 
 air, by Sir Henry Bishop. Mr. Payne was for several years 
 American Consul at Tripoli. Hedied poor, without a home 
 and without friends, spending much of^the latter part of his 
 life trying to obtain his lost consulship. Dr. Mackay save 
 it is a pity the aforementioned air is not Enj^lieb or Scotch; 
 but in our humble opinion, it is as great a pity that it is not 
 Irish. 
 
 ' M.' — The poet Spenser, while living on the banks of the 
 beautiful ' Mullagh,' at Kilcolman, in the County of Cork, 
 suggested that the ' mere Irish ' should be reduced to sub- 
 jection by destroying all the crops and compelling them to 
 live upon grass! He also represented to the English gov- 
 ernment that, unless the bards of Ireland were extermina- 
 ted, the people would never be subjugated. His advice was 
 followed. The ' gentle ' English bard, who sang in Erin of 
 her hills and .streams, and wrote his 'Faerie Queen' by Avon- 
 dhue, took £50 a year, and 328 fertile acres of the gallant 
 Desmond's estate. What matters it if he had to fly from the 
 land he had outraged, and lost six of his twelve books of 
 the ' Faerie Queen ' on his passage to England! 
 
 IRISH MISCELLANY 
 
 BOSTON, SATORDAT, AUGUST 21, 1858 
 
 BRITISH INDIA. 
 
 By the latest foreign news, we learn that 80,000 Eu- 
 ropean troops are requisite for the complete suppres- 
 sion of the insurrection in India, and that only 26,000 
 is the actual nnmher now available for field service. 
 Of course, under these circumstances, ' confusion 
 worse confounded ' reigns in the Circumlocution Of- 
 ffce ; and the newspapers are clamoring that Lord 
 Stanley should, before Parliament rises, make somesat- 
 isfactory statement on this important subject. But 
 there is little room to hope that the government will 
 gratify anxious inquirers as to the actual state of 
 things in the East : its whole system is too rotten to 
 admit of being exhibited to public investigation ; be- 
 sides, it has so long pursued a devious course, that 
 any other policy than mystifieaiion would be fatal to 
 the ministry, the exchc((uer, and even the ihronc. 
 Still, the general uneasiness in Kngland, touching 
 the manly resistance of the Sepoys, compels certain 
 interrogatories to the ministrj-; and to put the best face 
 possible on its forlorn condition, my Lord Stanley, in 
 reply, said it was impossible to form an estimate of 
 the present strength of the mutineers. The total num- 
 ber of the Queen's force in India, or on their way out, 
 was 78,416 : but 74.'j8 were reported sick, and 11,053 
 were drafts on their way. At the latest returns there 
 were 60,000 effective, and 11,006 drafts. As to the 
 East India Company's forces, there were 18,858 Eu- 
 ropeans on the l8t of July. After a deduction for 
 casualties, there was then a total of between 86,000 
 
 and 87,000 European troops in India. 'With regard to I 
 the Indian Loan, £4,421,000 had been borrowed. Ac- 
 cording to the London Morning Herald, the War Of- 
 lice has ' given its sanction ' to the raising of seventeen 
 regiments of cavalry. How considerate, yea, conde- 
 scending in the War Office. But where are the regi- 
 ments to bo had ? Not at home, certainly, and, after 
 the ignoble figure cut in the United States by Cramp- 
 ton & Co , ' Great ' Britain is not likely again to make 
 our territory a camp ground to obtain food for powder 
 from either John Chinaman or the followers of the King 
 of Oude and Nena Sahib. The plight to which ' per- 
 fidious Albion' is reduced may be inferred from the fact 
 that an order accompanies the ' sanction ' of the War 
 Office to the efi'ect that ' men of five feet two inches 
 will be accepted !' We remember the time when re- 
 cruiting sergeants would scorn any size short of five 
 feet six and one-half inches, and when they had in all 
 their depots standards for exact measurement; but this 
 was ere the famine thinned out, at Skull, Skibbereen, 
 and elsewhere, the men who unfortunately were only 
 too ready to fight for, instead of against, the usurper 
 of their fair native land. Now, any one capable of 
 holding a gun is gladly accepted. Can not the hand 
 of Providence be traced in all this '! 
 
 The ridiculous accounts transmitted from time to 
 time over the wires of ' brilliant success ' over the in- 
 surgents can excite in thinking minds only contempt ; 
 yet such stuff is indispensable to keep up the six per 
 cents. French and other sources furnish melancholy 
 evidence of the immense loss of life in the vain en- 
 deavor to hold in subjection any longer the orientals. 
 
 RUSSIA. 
 
 De Tocqueville, in his ' Democracy of America,' 
 instituted a comparison between the United States and 
 Russia, as new countries, which had risen to inflence 
 and power in distant quarters of the world, almost be- 
 fore their existence was recognised by the rulers of 
 the ancient nations. Recent movements in Russia are 
 attracting attention from watchful eyes in all parts of 
 the civilized world, and the social transformations now 
 in progress in that vast empire reveal that a new era 
 has been inaugurated which gives promise of great 
 national progress and development. • With vital 
 vigor,' says a recent writer, ' the Russian Government 
 has, within the past six months, taken hold of some of 
 those mighty problems which the national needs and 
 aspirations mark out for it. Important liberties have 
 been granted the Press ; large educational advances 
 have been made ; a series of gigantic political reforms 
 has been instituted, and a career of commercial and in- 
 dustrial exploitation commenced.' 
 
 The movement for the emancipation of the serfs — 
 the literary fertility which now marks the Russian 
 mind, — the wide and increasing popularity of public 
 journals and reviews — the remarkable dramatic deve- 
 lopment of the past two years — the rcconstitution of 
 the Russian Bible Society, by the present Emperor, 
 which was suspended under Nicholas, are so many in- 
 dications of an awakening to mental and spiritual life. 
 The New York Times in a recent able article on this 
 interesting subject observes : — ' It is these symptoms 
 of a mental awakening in Russia that are prophetic. 
 Russia looks abroad from her isolation. Letters from 
 St. Petersburgh state that the Emperor is gathering 
 about him every day men belonging to the progressive 
 party, and the Cabinet is impressed with the importance 
 of approaching western civiliz.ition. The railroad and 
 the telegraph are running Russia into the very heart of 
 civilization ; the new and magic words. Progress, Cul- 
 ture, begin to echo on her mouth. To France and 
 America she must look as her teachers. Happily, the 
 best understanding unites nil these countries. For 
 Russia, health is only to !)e found in avoiding exclusion, 
 in the full appreciation of the solidarity that binds to- 
 gether all people— a solidarity that does not prevent the 
 free development of their own national individualities. 
 We will watch with increasing interest the advancing 
 solutionof this great problem in Ru.ssia. She carries 
 great things with her. She carries with her the immense 
 destinies of the mighty Slavic race.' 
 
 Opinions of the Phess. — Our contemporaries in 
 Boston and elsewhere have in the kindest manner 
 alluded to the MiscELi.ANr. On starting upon a 
 second volume and issuing our gift picture, they have 
 again spoken well of our humble endeavors to supply a 
 want long felt in Irish American literature ; and in 
 selecting from among the number that have come to 
 hand, the following very hearty notices, we would 
 remark that no pains shall be spared to make our 
 paper a welcome visitor in every house ; — 
 
 The Illustrated Irish Miboellaky, a neatly printed 
 paper of 16 pages, publistied at No. 4 Water street, has just 
 entered on its eecoud volume, and prceeiite to sulincribers 
 this week a tine lithographic representation of apcene mem- 
 orable in Irish annals—' General SarsficUi's Capture of the 
 Siege Train under WiJliam, Prince of Orange, at Killenemo- 
 na, near Limerick, in 1690.' The contending parties are 
 well delineated by a New York artist, and the picture must 
 awaken proud emotions in every Irishman's bosom, recall- 
 ing as it does tlie glorious memory of the brave defender of 
 the ' City of the Violated Treaty.' The Miscellany repub- 
 lishes every week a complete number of the Dublin I'enny 
 Journal, a standard literary magazine wliich flourished in 
 Ireland some years ago. In its general direction, the Mis- 
 cellany exhibits enterprise, tact and ability, and we wish it 
 every success. Indeed, from our knowledge of one of the 
 parties connected with it, we have no doubt it will deserve 
 the cordial support of our Irish fellow-citizens. [Boston 
 Transcript. 
 
 'The Pictorial Irish Miscellany.' — This excellent 
 paper has now been established half a year, and continues to 
 grow in favor with the public. Its mighty patriotic toue, 
 and excellent style of general management, furnish good 
 reasons for the popular partiality in its favor. We are in- 
 debted to the publishers, Walsh & Co., 4 Water street, for a 
 copy of a presentation plate — ITinches by 11— of 'Sarsfield's 
 Surprise and Capture of William's seige train, at Killeua- 
 mona, near Limerick, August, 1690.' The picture is from a 
 painting by D. M. Carter, Esq., of New York, and repre- 
 sents, with striking eifect, what must have been a dreadful 
 strife. It is well worth the price of a year's subscription it- 
 selfj and we hope the generous and enterprising spirit 
 which prompts its presentation may be met with ample re- 
 ward. [Boston Ledger. 
 
 The Irish Mibcellant.- We have received from the 
 the publishers, Walsh & Co., 4 Water street, Boston, No 1, 
 of the second volume of the Irish Miscellany, a baudsome 
 16 mo newspaper, devoted to literature and the advance- 
 ment of the Celtic race. A splendid painting 17 by 11 inch- 
 es — is also issued this week, and delivered gratuitously to 
 subscribers. Two dollars a year is the subscription price, 
 and the picture, which represents ' Sarsfield's Capture of 
 the Siege Traiu under William, at the Siege of Limerick in 
 1690, is undoubtedly worth the money. We should think 
 this neat illustrated journal would prove very interesting 
 to Irishmen, since, besides reproducing their standard lit- 
 erature, it presents three or four cuts in each number, rep- 
 resenting the many beautiful ruins of Ireland, such as tow- 
 ers, castles, monasteries, churches, &c. Success to it! 
 [Worcester Bay State. 
 
 The Fcblisuers of the Irish Miscellany have sent us a 
 lithograph representing the capture of William the Third's 
 siege train, at Killeuemoua in 1690, by the celebrated Gen. 
 Sarsfleld. This is a notable event in Irish history. The pub- 
 lishers of the Miscellany present each of their subscribers 
 with a copy of this engraving. [Boston Post. 
 
 Chehbourg. — The aspirations of many successive 
 dynasties in France, to establish on the frontier a for- 
 midable harbor for their navy, has been successfully 
 accomplished by Napoleon III. Great preparations 
 have been made for months past to celebrate in a wor- 
 thy manner on the 6th of August, the completion of 
 a stupendous arsenal at Cherbourg, when a colossal 
 statue of Napoleon le Grand was to be placed on its 
 pcdesdal. Strange and incrediable as it may seem, 
 the royal puppet of the English aristocracy was in- 
 vited to witness the interesting ceremonies, and she 
 and her husband have actually complied with the po- 
 lite request! That is to say, after having drawn Eng- 
 land into conflict with Russia, onlv to exhibit her' de- 
 crepitude ; inducing her to wage war with the Ccles- 
 titls, for the purpose of making her a mere attendant; 
 and holding I'abncrston and his successors in complete 
 subjection. Napoleon now points his guns towards the 
 shores of Britain. — distant onlv 60 miles, — and com- 
 mands Victoria, the Queen, to see what he has in store 
 for her country. If this is not humiliation, what is ! 
 
 The CoKNBtt Stone of the new St. Patrick's 
 Cathedral, on 51 st street and Fifth avenue, New York, 
 was laid on Sunday last. 
 
2\) 
 
 IRISH JUSCELLANY. 
 
 [Wriltuii fur Ilio Mifcvllitny.] 
 >Ik. EhiToii: — I unclose you a few 'verses' for 
 publication, und, as you will doubtless notice that 
 they end abruptly, I shall rela:e an incident that 
 wrought this injury to the fair proportion of my 
 lines, and brought atfiiction to my own spirit. After 
 I had linished my fourth verse, and was standing on 
 a walk of the Common, gazing witli uplift eyes on 
 the stars, and drinking in their ins]>iration with a 
 glow of enthusiasm, the end of my shilleluh pro- 
 truding behind from under my Kft arm, caine in 
 most unwelcome contact with the crinoline of a 
 fair lady, and, ere I could turn round to repair 
 damages to her feelings, — I will not add, her hoops, 
 — behold ! a star of another kind appeared — a most 
 unpoetic star — n starthnt inspires ideas of dungeons, 
 gibbets, and other ungodly things, and threatened 
 me with punishment as an 'obstruction,' and a 
 ' nuisance.' I stoutly repelled these Imputations, 
 and maintained that I was a philosopher and a poet. 
 My remonstrance only began to prevail when I gave 
 my name as Loafer; (ihe 'star' evidently mistook 
 tne for a brother,) and we — I mean myself and shil- 
 Iclah — were suffered to depart to our little attic in 
 Broad street ; safe in body, but minus my green 
 spectacles, my pride, and the balance of my poetry. 
 If you, Mr. Editor, or some of your readers will 
 present me with a pair of green glasses, I shall be 
 loud in praise of Irish generosity. 
 
 VERSES. 
 
 COMrOSED DUlirSO AS liVE.MAG HAMBI.E OK BOSTOK 
 
 COMMOK. 
 
 BY LARRY LOAFER. 
 
 I love, in the quiet eveniog hour 
 
 Tliat borders tlie summer iii^lit, 
 "When above the laudsenpe gli<les the moon, 
 
 DiinisiiiK her mcUow light — 
 To saunter along these gravel walks 
 
 Where loveliest verdures line. 
 And stateliest trees above our lieads 
 
 Their foliage thick eutwiue — 
 
 To list to the many pleasing sounds 
 
 That float on the cooling breeze, 
 Suggesting that wise are those who grasp 
 
 At pleasure, as swift it flees— 
 The maidenly laugh and playful jest 
 
 That lighten the promenade, 
 The innocent shout that issues out 
 
 Id the moonlight, from the shade. 
 
 How many a thousand pair sat here 
 
 lu the evening's long ago, 
 Maturing their plans to trend life's path 
 
 Together, in weal or woe! 
 ■With vision unsound does loving mmds 
 
 Still picture their coming joys, 
 In glittering hues, all calm and bright, 
 
 As the tiry lake here lies. 
 
 In generous times, these sylvan shades 
 
 With musical concert rung; 
 But rapturous swells my Celtic soul 
 
 At melodies now oft sung: 
 In beautiful notes sometimes ring out 
 
 The patriot song of Moore, 
 Awakening many a sleeping thought 
 Of our gifted land, ihough poor! 
 
 Two French Kin^s — Louis XVIII was a mod- 
 erate of the old system, and a liberal-minded inheritor 
 of the cightccDili century ; Charles X was a true emi- 
 grant and a submissive bigot. Tlie wisdom of Louis 
 XVIII. was egotistic and sceptical, but serious and 
 sincere. When Charles X acicd like a sensible king 
 il was through propriety, from timid and short-sighted 
 complaisance, from hting carried away, or from tlie 
 desire of pleasing — not from conviction or natural 
 choice. Through all the different cabinets of his 
 reign, wheiher under the Abbe MonteMiuicu, M. De- 
 Cii7.cs, and M de Villcle, the government of Louis 
 XVIII. was ever consistent with itself. Without false 
 calculation or prcmediiated deceit, Charles X. wavered 
 from contradiction to contradiction, from inconsisten- 
 cy to inconsistency, until the day when, given up to 
 his own will and belief, he committed the error which 
 cost him his throne. — Gui/.oi's Memoirs. 
 
 HVrlii.n lor the Irish Jli-celluny.J 
 EVENING THOUGHTS. 
 .To the soul replete with sadness, 
 To eye^ that fuin would weep. 
 How lull of sweetest gladness. 
 
 To gaze upon the deep. 
 And to watch its waves In motion, 
 Itoll onward to the ocean, 
 While the sunset rays are gleaming. 
 And the moon's flrst rays are beaming. 
 
 And when the sun is blending 
 
 With Luna's silver light, 
 And beneath the waves descending 
 
 To leave us here in night. 
 And the dew has wet each flower. 
 And glad voices in each bower. 
 Sweet and lovely strains are singing. 
 And the eveniug bells are ringing. 
 
 Kot ou music, myrth or bower, 
 
 My thoughts arc dwelling now; 
 Kot the gladness of each bower, 
 
 Can soothe my rutlled brow. 
 For my thoughts far distant wander, 
 And my memory ftill grows fonder 
 Of those blithe sweet days of childhood, 
 When 1 roamed o'er hill and wood. 
 
 Ah! those days are past and buried 
 
 In the sepulchre of time; 
 And this lonely heart is wearied, 
 
 Pining in another clime. 
 Oh! an Eldorado's treasure 
 I would give, to feel that pleasure 
 Which was mine ere care possessed me. 
 When sweet peace of mind had blessed me. 
 
 But a hope as bright as morning 
 
 Hovers o'er my aching heart; 
 With its brightness all adorning, 
 
 Which forbids a tear to start. 
 Speaks in tones so calm as even, 
 With uplifted hand to Heaven, 
 Thei'C shall be a brighter morrow, 
 Where ne'er enters care or sorrow. Monokia. 
 
 (rrora the Dublin Celtic Union.] 
 RELICS OF OLD READINGS AND COSSIPINCS. 
 
 Ko. lU. 
 
 ' As sure as the day comes, the General's wrath 
 will scorch it into ashes' — and he left the room as 
 he was uttering the words. 
 
 'Tell the regicide I dare him, and that he shall 
 never do the deed you promise for him.' 
 
 'As sure as Heaven witnesses, it shall be done, 
 son of Baliol !' retorted the Puritan, now lustily, 
 for he had gone into the hall and taken up his arms. 
 
 Aylward strode after him furiously, calling at the 
 top of his voice — 'No Roundhead ranter shall ever 
 enter these halls again ! Aylward sends the regi- 
 cide and his foul brood defiance ! He never shall 
 burn Aylward Castle !' But the 'Babe' had now 
 resumed his saddle, not feeling entirely safe, as the 
 Irish servitors began to assemble at the sound of 
 their mastcrs's loud voice, and seemed inclined not 
 to obey his gestures, as he waived them away. So, 
 on all hands, the hardy Kepublicin, fearless and 
 heedless though he really was, thought it the .better 
 part of valor to move on — which he did, inconti- 
 nently, vowing all the way, as he rode back to the 
 camp, to be the first man, ne.Kt day, to set the den 
 of the vile son of Baliol in a blaze, and above all to 
 give no quarter to any living thing on the premises, 
 and the more and especially and above all others 
 did he not except Aylward, its lord and master. 
 
 The Lieutenant General of the English Parlia- 
 ment foamed with rage when he heard the defiant 
 reply of the contumacious rebel, and sso moved was 
 he thereat, th«t although he was i)eremptorily sum- 
 moned to England on the next day, yet he resolved 
 to procrastinate for the gratification of inflicting 
 summary vengeance on Aylward, his castle, and 
 every living thing surviving within it. Nothing 
 less would sate his blood-thirsty heart. 
 
 History tells us that when Herod was in his death- 
 agony, he ordered his sister's husband, Ale.xas, to 
 summon all the heads of the Jews to repair to Jcri- j 
 cho on a set day, under pain of death, and upon j 
 their arrival, ordered them to be shut tip in the ' 
 
 ('ircus. He then gave Alcxas Btriet charge to butch" 
 ex them nil without reserve. Oliver had taken a 
 leaf from Herod's book, and left Clonmel with pre- 
 cisely the same hellish intent towards the Irish at 
 Burncourt that his teacher entertained for the Jews. 
 
 He divided his forces, accordingly, into three 
 large divisions, despatching two of them to the right 
 and left, whilst he himself marched with the third, 
 directly, towards the scone of the intended annihi- 
 lation. By these means he expected to be able so 
 securely to surround the doomed fort and its inhab- 
 itants, that he should not be played the same Se- 
 poy-trick as that of Hugh O'Neill's in Clonmel. 
 
 The arch-Puritan, too, acted with great caution 
 and circumspection on the present occasion, taught, 
 no doubt, by the serious loss his fanatical presump- 
 tion had caused Jiim to incur on the occasion of the 
 late siege, by despising the power of his opponents. 
 He thought, also, that Hugh O'Neill might have 
 left some of his garrison in Aylward Castle, or that 
 some unlooked-for force might have been eonccn- 
 truted there to baffle hiin once more in his siege- 
 operations. 
 
 Deeply revolving these things in his mind, Crom- 
 well rode on at the head of his Ironsides, with several 
 pieces of his artillery in his front, and powder and ball 
 in innumerable waggons in his rere — enough, indeed, to 
 blow up twenty such fortresses a.s that towards which 
 he was now so furiously hastening. 
 
 On they rode through the mountain defiles of Tip- 
 pcrary, horses galloping, waggons trundling and labor- 
 ing, colors flying, and the bright arising sun flashing 
 from the naked swords and rude iron hreast-jilates of 
 a thousand armed Republicans. On tliey strode, in 
 dull leaded silence — a silence that was wont on all oc- 
 casions, with cruel old Noll, to portend a coming har- 
 vest of blood and death. On they rode, until the 
 whole troop came suddmly upon the summit of a bold 
 commanding height, which looked down upon the 
 whole campain beneath, and over an area of very 
 many miles in advance. Here Cromwell suddenly 
 drew rein, and with a loud aud bitter exclamation of 
 rage and disappointment, pointed with his truncheon 
 to an object upon which every eyes was instantaneously 
 concentrated. 
 
 The Puritan was foiled — Aylward Castle was no 
 more. Its lord and master had made his word good, 
 ' that Cromwell should never burn or despoil it ' — ho 
 burned it nim.sclf ! ! And there now were its charred 
 walls and fallen battlements — one huge black wreck — 
 the thick, heavy, figgy smoke heaving up now and 
 then from the smouldering ruins, and jets of lurid 
 flame occasionally springing from bencalli the pros- 
 trate masonry. Cromwell was foiled ! Aylward had 
 gone on to Waterfonl, with all his men and retainers, 
 to rejoin the gallant Hugh O'Neill, and the only satis- 
 faction left to Clan Oliver was, that his di.scotnfuture 
 g.ive a new name to the scene of its enactment; for, 
 ever after and to this day, the place is called Burn- 
 court, and the story of the Aylward of Burncourt is 
 still well known and often repeated in many an Irish 
 homestead in Tippcrary. Caklan. 
 
 Tub Tklkgrvpii Tersiini. — Bull's Bay, or Bd- 
 houl Bay, is a bay on the tast side of Newfoundlaod, 
 in hit. 47:a5 N., Ion. 52:20 W. 
 
 Vttlentia or Kinmore, a picturesque island off the 
 west coast of Ireland, 7 miles long and two broad, is 
 separated from the mainland by a strait, a mile and a 
 half in breadth, and contains the most westerly harbor 
 in the British Isles. The harbor is deep, capacious, 
 and land-locked, and has lately attracted considerable 
 attention, as the proposed westerly terminus of railway 
 communication, and principal station for Atlantic 
 steamers. 
 
 Books. — Books arc standing counsellors and 
 preachers — always at hand, and always disinterest- 
 ed ; having this advantage over oral instructors, 
 tnat they are ready to repeat their lesson as often 
 as ■we please. 
 
HUSH MISCELLANY. 
 
 27 
 
 [From the Dublin Celtic Union. 1 
 OUR NATIONAL LANGUAGE. 
 
 The merest tyro in politics perceives the impor- 
 tance of Inngiiage to a nation. It comliines all tlie 
 other elements that constitute nationality, preserves 
 the national idea, long after those have ceased to 
 exist, and even after the lapse of centuries, calls the 
 nation to life and inde])cndcnce again. Language 
 alone traces the geographical limits of Italy, and is 
 the only preservative of German unity. The Latin 
 has preserved those municipal laws that are blended 
 in the jurispnulence of modern states, and it is only 
 by the light thro-\vn from her literature that wc are 
 enabled to study the political and social life of an- 
 cient Home. In our own time Greece has received 
 independence solely from the literary interest \v4iich 
 invested every mountain and valley and rivulet of 
 that classic land. 
 
 With these facts before us it is strange that we 
 have so long neglected the cultivation of our national 
 tongue. Perhaps we have been rendered indiiferent 
 by the reflection that, in the Anglo-Irish, we pos- 
 sess a literature as foreign in spirit to that of Eng- 
 land as it is to the literature of any other country, 
 ■without considering that, after all, this very litera- 
 ture confirms and naturalizes that corrupt and arti- 
 ficial union if/e have so much reason to deplore. On 
 the continent, the fact of the Irish using, and pre- 
 ferring to use, the English language, furnishes the 
 assumption that we are one and the same people, 
 governed and inspired by the same laws and insti- 
 tutions, made and founded for the national good. 
 Our literature is discussed as a part and parcel of 
 England, and people talk of translations from the 
 ' English ' of Tom Moore. 
 
 But the Irish is not dead. It is spoken in the pul- 
 pit and market place and cottage, and is used by 
 the untutored peasant to body forth his national 
 loves and hatreds and wrongs. The writings of 
 our poets, statesmen, and divines, are scattered 
 throughout the libraries of Europe, and while a lit- 
 tle spirit and industry would suffice for their circula- 
 tion we have become a bye-word among the people, 
 for suffering those memorials of our ancient glory 
 to deca^ Those writings should be of more interest 
 to an Irishman than the productions of other ancient 
 countries, and the study of Irish affords the precise 
 advantages, which directors of educational institu- 
 tions tell us are derived from the study of Latin, as 
 those acquainted with the genius of our elaborate 
 and constructive language will readily perceive. 
 But, in fact, it has more advantages still ; unlike the 
 Latin, once acquired, it can be put to immediate 
 use. A language that has existed for two thousand 
 years must possess every possible formula necessary 
 to modern requirement, and there is in itself, noth- 
 ing to prevent its being used in the tribune, the 
 press, epistolary correspondence, and even in the 
 fashionable saloon. 
 
 Though the most enthusiastic nationalist doubts 
 and perhaps does not desire the probability of this 
 last, it is quite possible to place it in a state of bril- 
 liancy, commensurate only, it is true, with the politi- 
 cal state of the country, yet in a condition to at- 
 tract the admiration and sympathy of surrounding 
 nations. The young democracy of Italy in the mid- 
 cle ages starting into life amid the debris of Bar- 
 barian monarchies moulded the modern Italian on 
 a Latin basis, though the printing press was not 
 then invented, though a book was not in Italy then, 
 what is in Ireland now, a necessary in every home- 
 stead of the land. 
 
 In fact, the revival or creation of a national lan- 
 guage is, more than any other political movement, 
 of a purely artificial character. 'IViing warning 
 from the failure of previous isolated attempts, every 
 one attached to the old country and cause should 
 aim at giving a helping hand. Knowing how with- 
 ering is the blast of arisloci'atic patronage, our so- 
 cieties and literary clubs should neither seek the al- 
 
 liance or e.\pect the encouragement of a local snob. 
 At present every available support might be given 
 to the Ossianic Society, but we may e.\pect, in the 
 South and West at least, other societies with the 
 same general purpose formed to carry out a certain 
 object not coming within the sphere of that institu- 
 tion. It may be not improper to remark ' en pas- 
 sant,' that a subscription of five shillings per annum 
 constitutes a member of the Ossianic .Society, and 
 that members are entitled to the yearly volume of 
 the society's publications. This volume which is 
 large and thick, (annually increasing in bulk) is 
 brought out in an elegant and proper style. 
 
 This is not enough. Irish should be at present, a 
 vehicle for the national thought ■? It is strange that 
 joarnuls professing to express the wishes of the Irish 
 people nevi'r contain an article a paragraph, or even a 
 sentence in the Irish tongue. In other countries such 
 nationality would be ridiculed and suspected. In 
 America emigrants from the other countries of Europe 
 have their newspapers published in the language of 
 their fatherland, in central Enrope a newspaper contains 
 articles in two and even three languages, in Belgium 
 there is an ancient journal published in a dialect spoken 
 only by a few thousend persons, and while the German 
 Legion was in England a German newspaper was pub- 
 lished in London supported solely by subscriptions 
 from the aame. Local journals in the east and north 
 of Ireland could not be expected to be foremost in the 
 experiment, but there is no" excuse tor the editors of 
 the west and south. 
 
 Let then those who guide, instruct and amuse the 
 people only commence the work of love, other and per- 
 haps more ardent labourers may follow. The compi- 
 lation, the treatise, the fictions, the ballad and lyric 
 will appearin proportion as personal interest is brought 
 within the iuflucnce of the current. 
 
 It would be frivolous to allude to a higher order of 
 literature, it cannot be created with a dash of the pen. 
 A poet is a spontaneous production of his age — a 
 brilliant form glitteringon the waters, filmy and frothy 
 it may be, but reflecting all the huss ef Heaven, and to 
 most men a thing of substance whose evolutions be- 
 guile many a dreary hour of life. To sing to a free 
 people the glories of onr old race, whose pride is proud- 
 er than Guelph or Ghihbeline, — to lisp in the language 
 of Tyre tmd Sidon, as Tasso did in the language of 
 Pisa and Genoa — to accomplish for Ireland what Dante 
 accompliilied for Italy, what Goethe accomplished for 
 Germany, to be the suggestive idea of Sesostris and 
 Napoleon, the connecting link between Moscow and 
 New York, is a destiny greater than the destiny of 
 Homer, or Virgil or Milton; and which none but one 
 greater than any of these may be called on to fulfil. 
 And it will be fulfilled, — so sure as the fragments of 
 that race shall gather to their native soil to build up a 
 young nation from their old traditions — a nation which 
 our Cloncurry said shall be the home of civihzation and 
 freedom. 
 
 The Eouhth a Great Day in oub. History as 
 A Nation. April 4, 1609 — Hudson discovered the 
 Bay of New York. 
 
 July i, 1776 — Declaration of Independence. 
 
 Oct. 4, 1777 — Battle of Gemiantown. 
 
 Oct. 4, 1777 — Articles of Confederation adopted 
 by 13 of the Colonies. 
 
 Dec. 4, ns.'i — Washington resigned command 
 of the American Army, and retired to private life. 
 
 July 4, 181.5 — The Algerine Admiral captured by 
 an American squadron ; the Dey makes advan- 
 tageous terms of peace to America. 
 
 Mai eh 4 — Presidential Inauguration. 
 
 Aug. 4, 18.38 — Arrival of the Atlantic Telegraph 
 fleet both upon British and American shores. 
 
 [Written for the Miscellany ] 
 ACROSTIC. 
 
 II erc's to thee, Erin, the joy of my heart, 
 
 I love thee the better, crushed tliougli thou art; 
 
 B ut still I have bopcx that thou wilt yet rine 
 
 E rect in your strength, and once more be wise. 
 
 It enmin no longer ii nation of slaves, 
 
 N o longer unwritten your patiiot's graves; 
 
 1 n bonor nnd glory I hope yot you'll be— 
 
 A nation unsullied—' the gem of the sea.' 
 
 Sioiis and Tf.ars.— a poor victim of a husband 
 complains that crinoline should be the source of .so 
 much sentiment and .sorrow, for he notices thtit 
 nothing but copious tears are always resulting from 
 its enormous sighs ! 
 
 A Bold, but Beautiful Figure. — During the 
 delivery of a sermon, last Sunday, in St. Patrick's 
 Catholic Church, at Washington, D. C, the sp aker, 
 Rev. Francis X. Boyle, made use of the following 
 beautiful figure in connection with the Atlantic Tele- 
 graph :— 
 
 'What is it, after all, when compared with the in- 
 stantaneous communication between the Throne of 
 Divine Grace and the heart of man ? Olfer up your 
 silent petition for grace. It is transmitted through 
 realms of unmeasured spuce more rapidly than the 
 lightning's flash, and the answer reaches the soul ere 
 the prayer has died away en the sinner's lips. Yet 
 this telegraph, performing its saving functions ever 
 since Christ died for us on Calvary, fills not the world 
 wiih exultation and shouts of gladness — with ill'i,mina- 
 tions aud bonefires and boomingof cannon. The rea- 
 son is, one is telegraph of this world, and may produce 
 wonderful revolutions on earth ; the other is the sweet 
 c.ommnrion between Christ and the Christian's soul, 
 and will secure a glorious immortality in Heaven.' 
 
 Variety is pleasing, as the sailor said when he 
 married his fourth wife. 
 
 We came off' with flying colors, as the ensign said 
 when he ran from the enemy. 
 
 We both had many a brush in our day, as the old 
 sailor said to his cocked hat. 
 
 Industry must prosper, as the pickpocket said 
 when he stole three handkerchiefs before dinner, 
 r* I'll ratify you after I put my concluding claws to 
 you, as the cat said watching the mouse. 
 
 ' I AM ready to go oflF by the train,' as the barrel 
 of gunpowder said to Guy Fawkes. 
 
 Gold and silucr are in these days the most prized 
 and effective of all bcUe-metals. 
 
 A Pleasant wife is a rainbow in the sky, when 
 her husband's mind is tossed with storms and tem- 
 pests. 
 
 Why is a boy throwing eggs against a stone-wall 
 like a men running off! Because he makes his eggs 
 hit, (exit. J — J. s. 
 
 Why is an assistant clergyman of a parish the most 
 noted of all men for his exactness ! Because he is 
 accurate (A Curtte.) — j. s. 
 
 An Irishman writing home says — ' Dear Nelly 
 
 Ameriki is the finest counthry in the woorld ; the first 
 three weeks you are boarded gratis, and afther that 
 you're charged nothin' at'awl. So come along, and 
 bring the childhre. 
 
 A Patent has been granted to a citizen of Utica, 
 for a new kind of over-shoe, designed for persons tra- 
 velling by sea and land. It is made of braided straw. 
 Straw being a non-conductor of heat, the natural 
 warmth of the foot is retained, without being subject to 
 dampness by the foot sweating— an advantage of great 
 importance— the straw being porous, and either ab- 
 sorbing the dampness or allowing it to pass. 
 
 Insoittion over a door in a part of Engl.ind : 
 
 'John Gibbons, tailor, schoolmaster, and astronomer- 
 i also keep A young man to do all Sorts of black- 
 smith's and Carpenter's Work, and to hang c hurch 
 Bolls, any gentle-man as Bespeaks a coat on Mon- 
 day may have it on Friday or Saturday without fail. 
 N. B. it is rumored that i intend to leave off Business 
 on account of being elected church ward-n ; i hope 
 my friends will not give ear to such blood-thirsty re- 
 ports— by their friend and humble servant, John 
 UI13B3N8. 
 
28 
 
 IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 A STORV OF TUE FKKXCll INVASION IN "98. 
 
 Of that intrepiil banil of licrocs who forsook the 
 peaceful laliors of the field for the hazards of insurrec- 
 tionary war, none broujjht to the fearful struggle of the 
 French invasion in 179S, a hohier heart, a 8tron;;er 
 arm, ora deep hatred of oppression, than Larry Gilles- 
 pie, whose emerprisini; feats of muscular powers at 
 Castlcbar caui^ht the attention of the armed loyalistii, 
 and who, when the outbreak ended in disaster, was 
 one of the men with a price set on their heads. En- 
 gaging with a mounted dragoon near Sion Hill, he no 
 sooner had liim borne ort" his saddle by a thrust of his 
 long handled pike than he was assailed by three of his 
 mounted companions. Ere they could reach him with 
 their naked blades, his foot was on the throat of his 
 fallen foe, and wrenching the carbine from his gripe, 
 he shot one antagonist of the three. 'Bravo Larry,' 
 said a stentorian voice behind liim, ' you will not 
 havo all the glory — no by japurs, one at a time is 
 enough,' and in a moment he recognised his friend. 
 Captain Tinlin (the famous outlaw, aftenvards gibbeted 
 at Castlebar), who rushed at one of the fellows, and 
 while a candle would be snufliing horse and man were 
 put into the dike, and down the rider tumbled with 
 Timlin's pikehead kissing his ribs. ' Quarter, quarter,' 
 shouted the trooper. ' Lie there in the dike," said 
 TimliiT, ' I scorn to kill a wounded man ; I make King 
 George a present of you for the rest of the campaign.' 
 
 Larry during this time was engaged with the other 
 trooper. He was a powerful swordsman, and for a 
 while parried Larry's pike thrusts, when Timlin turned 
 from the wounded trooper. ' Bravo,' said he to Larry, 
 ' spike him in the arm-pit.' So Larry thrusting the 
 steel as desired, down fell the trooper on the ground. 
 
 A tremendous cheer burst from the vast insurgent 
 host, blended with the vivas of the republicans. The 
 rout was general. Down Stoball relied the retreating 
 tide, across the narrow bridge swept the beaten squa- 
 drons and battalions of the King — after them rushed 
 the insurgent mass. A singla curricle gun manned by 
 Corporal Gibson , and about a dozen of Highlanders, 
 for a moment stopped the rebel torrent. 
 
 Foremost in that second Macedonian Phalanx were 
 Timlin and his friend Larrj' ; they dashed against the 
 gun whilst the Highlanders fell back under the bridge, 
 and in the tumnlt the brave gunner was bonie with 
 the wedged mass, and a voice was heard crying, 
 ' Hurragh for the green, hurragh for the green,' and a 
 thousand voices responded. Lake and Hutchinson 
 were routed ; the former sought ia India to redeem 
 his lost prestige, and the latter among the sand hills of 
 Egypt. 
 
 Next day Larry aud his friend Timlin parted, never 
 to meet in this world, and early ne.xt morning Larry 
 Gillespie was to be seen with a broken pike shaft in his 
 hand passing the narrow defile of Barnanagee. 
 
 In a villaj^e on the nsrthern shore of Lough Con, 
 Larry's choicest treasure, next to the honor of his 
 country, a young and faithful wife panted his return. 
 Surrounding it were the studded and sylvan groves of 
 Deel Castle. The Deel swept on through a meadowy 
 valley here and there thickly wooded, and the princely 
 piles of Deel Castle, the old Elizabethian fortress of the 
 Gores, and the new mansion erected by Colonel Cuft'e 
 and embosomed in the foliage of autumn. The broad 
 blue lake expanded from bis door, and the giant moun- 
 tain crags of Pontoon and Addergoolc, with Mount 
 Nephin soaring upwards until it kissed a cloud of fleecy 
 whiteness, and rose in tapering grandeur towards the 
 sky. Here was a scene over which Naiades might 
 preside, and it was through this valley, among these 
 groves, and in the depth of those woods, along the 
 flowery banks of the lake and river, that Larry Gilles- 
 pie and his young bride sauntered when their lips 
 sealed those vows which ended in the holy bonds of 
 matrimony. It was from among those scenes that he 
 left her to take a run into Ballina to see the French, 
 with a promise that he would be back in three days, 
 and to the moment, he entered with his broken pike in 
 his hand, and a standard torn from the retreating red 
 coats. When Peggy Gillespie gazed on her young 
 husband a smile of delight lit her fine open, guileless 
 
 countcnaneo, just losing its former natural blush, for 
 she was fast approaching to be a moiber. 
 
 ' Arrali Larry avourneen,' said she, ' I hope you did 
 not come without leavin' a legacy with ibem bloody 
 red coats. I hope acushia you paid them us Davy 
 Rorko paid the Tithe Proctors long ago, by givin' 
 tliini an ounce o' lead for every sheaf of corn.' 
 
 'Troth, Peggy,' said the gallant Larry. 'I left a 
 dozen of the spalpeens killed and wounded in the 
 dike ; I am sorry I did not meet big Jack Ormsby, I'd 
 make his big stomach as flat as a tomb-stone, and lot 
 his inside see the light o' day any how.' 
 
 Mrs. Gillespie being impatient to see the French, she 
 and Larry took their departure for Ballina next day, 
 carrying with him his broken pike shaft and the torn 
 ensign of King George. Passing on through the fields, 
 the thrilling sound of martial music was heard blended 
 with the wild shouts of the peasantry. It was a largo 
 body of the insurgents going out to rob and loot the 
 houses and cellars of the aristocracy. Meeting this 
 lormidable gang with their leader Hugh M'Guire, the 
 latter accosted Larry, and called on him to go to the 
 fun. ' No, Hngh,' said Larry, ' I have an arm to 
 strike a blow for our country, but not one forsmashin' 
 locks and robbin' cellars,' (pointing with exultation to 
 his broken pike shaft and the torn flag}, ' come on, 
 ^'^eeyi I of'*^" heard Father Roche, say, that Ireland 
 was lost in Wexford by drinkin' up the cellars. 
 
 Larry and his young bride entered Ballina, and going 
 down by the Druid's monument, (clochothogaul), there 
 was a large lire with several pots boiling beef, and an 
 idle gang of half armed stragglers lounging along the 
 ditches. Seeing that Mrs. Gillespie was approaching 
 to be a mother, a stout matronly looking woman stuck 
 the long prongs of a stable fork into the meat, and run- 
 ning over presented it to the young wife. ' By the 
 pot hooks, ma'am,' said she, ' you never will pass until 
 you keep the youngster's tongue in ; here, this is no 
 harm, take it.' Mrs. Gillespie called for a knife to cut 
 a slice ofli' the beef, and called for a pinch of salt. 
 'Bless you ma'am,' said the female cicerone, 'salt is 
 as dear in Ballina as diamond dust at the jewellers.' 
 So Mrs. Gillespie, to keep the youngster from putting 
 his tongue out, cat the beef without salt. 
 
 When Larry went as far as the market cross he had 
 the pleasure of showing his wife one ofthe French 
 detachments left after the invading army. ' Why 
 Larry,' said Peggy, (pointing at one of the officers) 
 ' this gentleman is light enough to dance a jig on the 
 palm of your hand.' 
 
 ' Then Peggy,' said Larry, ' these little fellows have 
 all Europe under their feet.' 
 
 ' Shame on my countrymen," said Peggy, ' to lie 
 under their heavy load of rents, tithes, and taxes, and 
 duty-work, when these little Lochramauns of fellows 
 havo all Europe under their feet.' 
 
 A few weeks rolled on, Humbert commited the fault 
 of Hannibal after Canae ; he made a second Capua of 
 Castlebar, and rejected the advice ofthe Irish leaders 
 to march direct for the South. The triumph of Lake 
 at Ballinamuck scattered the insurgent hosts, and Ire- 
 land was crushed beneath the heels of her oppressors. 
 Larry Gillespie was a prisoner in Ballina, and tried be- 
 fore Lord Portarlington ; Colonel Jackson and Captain 
 Ormsby sat there, and mercy was stifled in the cry for 
 blood. As soon as the tall, erect and powerful figure 
 of Larry was brought in tied and manacled, ' On my 
 honor as a Peer of Ireland,' said the fat lord, 'it is a 
 pity to swing this fellow, we will send him to His Ma- 
 jesty's Ally, the King of Prussia ; he will make a 
 splendid Grenadier ofthe Royal Guard.' 
 
 ' Swing him,' said Colonel Jackson, ' he has a trai- 
 tor's eye, the king's enemies must perish.' 
 
 ' 'Tis false, I am no traitor,' said Larry. ' I loved my 
 country and stuck to her cause to the last. 
 
 'Away with him, guard,' said Jack Ormsby, 'if 
 there is a rope in Ballina he must be hanged.' 
 
 ' I fear,' said Portarlington, ' you arc too rash ; 
 what proof is there that this man carried arms, and 
 levied war on the king V 
 
 ' He has a rebel's face, and a traitor's eye,' said Col- 
 onel Jackson, ' which is all the proof I require.' 
 
 ' If we don't gibbet them in scores,' said Jack Orms 
 by, ' the king's authority is a dead letter. I was told 
 that this very fellow was one of the first that struck 
 down the gunner on the bridge of Castlebar.' 
 
 ' But we V. ill put him (rom ever doing harm to the 
 king,' said Portarlington, ' by making a present of him 
 to the King of Prussia.' 
 
 ' We will give up our swords to the king,' said Jack- 
 son, ' unless his enemies are put to death.' 
 
 The cruelty of faction drowned the voice of justice ; 
 though PoUirlingSon's heart was not insensible to the 
 voice of pity, the blood thirsty cruelty of local statraps 
 frustrated the natural bent of his mind. Larry Gilles- 
 pie was removed as a condemned felon with the sen- 
 tence of deith upon his head. As he was dragged from 
 Colonel King's mansion across the street to the military 
 barrack, one gazed on that noble and athletic frame, in 
 whose bosom all hope was not lost — it was his beloved 
 wife. No tear dropped from her blue and dazzling eyo , 
 her life she resolved to devote for his, and if every 
 resource failed, the proud consciousness remained, that 
 she was bearing in her bosom the pulsation of youug 
 life, that might in the course of events avenge a 
 father's death. The intrepid hero recognised her, and 
 his face beamed radiant when he saw that she preserved 
 her wonted courage unimpaired. A smile of recogni- 
 tion lighted up his lip, and the eye fixed for a moment 
 told, that he felt her expression of sympathy would 
 follow him to the grave. 
 
 On an evening in October, 1798, Larry Gillespie 
 heard the blows of a hatchet in the guard-room where 
 he w^as confined ; they were the blows of the carpenter 
 constructing the rude scaffolding for his execution with 
 his brother felons. On an ash tree in Lloyd's Garden, 
 with only a narrow street-way between itself and the 
 barrack, the tragedy of the death was to go on. bitting 
 under the shadow ofthe high wall opposite the towering 
 instrument of terror as if counting the blows, sat a 
 woman, young, pale and thoughtful, evidently soon to 
 be a mother; it was the young wife of Larry Gilles- 
 pie. 
 
 The early shades of night had fallen, the loud blast 
 of the equinox shook the huge tree and scaffolding, 
 nature seemed to conspire in wrath against this tragedy 
 of blood, and though the trees and houses creaked in 
 the storm, and the sentinel sought the shelt^ of the 
 sentry-box, there sat that lone woman with the young 
 life that throbbed in her bosom ; her hour had come ; 
 ' where there is a will God sends a way ;' the night 
 favored her, she rose at last when night waned in the 
 storm and footsteps ceased about the barrack. Step- 
 ping over to the sentry she said, ' please Sir to take a 
 small drop, the night is long and cold, a cruiskeen 
 will keep out the cold,' 
 
 'E!i lass, you are my guardian angel, 'tis honey to 
 me now,' said the soldier with an English accent, tak- 
 ing a full swing from a wooden measure which she fill- 
 ed out of a half-gallon jar. 
 
 Said the soldier with his frank English nature, ' I 
 expect, lass, some dear friend is abont to swing np 
 here to-morrow,' pointing with his screwed bayonet 
 towards the tree. ' Tes in troth, my poor husband 
 will be murtbered there,' said she ; ' they condemned 
 him without judge or jury.' They'd do anything ia 
 Ireland, from cutting a throat to hanging an innocent 
 man ; her gentry are tyrants, her middlemen are rob- 
 bers, and her soldiers are cowards, only fit for killing 
 innocent people,' said the soldier. 'I myself saved 
 dozens from the yeomen.' ' God bless your English 
 heart,' said Mrs. Gillespie, ' I feel as strong as a troop- 
 er's horse by the courage you give me,' and she filled 
 another goblet which the soldier drank to the bottom. 
 
 "I'hc two hours on guard passed away, the soldier 
 told her not to stir, and that he would get her in to 
 see her husband. He got time to tell his comrade, who 
 succeeded him, of the succor that was at hand, and 
 af^er giving him a full cruiskeen she was led to the 
 guard-house. 
 
 Tiiis was a long dark room without any fire-place, 
 and in a comer a few sods of half-kindled turf raised a 
 smoke which half obscured the one candle that threw 
 a dim flickering flame, the soldiers neglecting to nse 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 29 
 
 the sDufVcrs. Grouped together on a heap of straw hiy 
 four prisoners, three reclined nt full length in a sound 
 sleep, while one alone sat with his back against the 
 wall, his folded arms showing that sleep could not 
 drown the deep mine of thought which Hashed in his 
 brain. 
 
 When the gentle figure of the pale young wife enter- 
 ed she only east a fleeting look at the stern features of 
 her husband. Moments were precious, a life was to be 
 rescued from the talons of the law, and knowing she 
 was a welcome guest with her 'jar of the true religion,' 
 she began to divide it with the guard. 
 
 'Your minutes are worth years to you,' said her 
 friend the first guard, 'give me that and go over to 
 your husband for the short lime you have to stay, 
 which is two hours, before the officer of the guard goes 
 rounds,' and the generous soldier took the first goblet 
 and handed it to the gallant rebef. 
 
 The mountain dew went round, the minutes were 
 passing fast. Mrs. Gillespie placed a few damp sods 
 on the fire which increased the smoke, the moment for 
 action came ; ' Larry, Larry,' said she, ' for the sake 
 of all the saints in glory put on this cap and jock and 
 be out the back way, the sentry will let you out, he 
 will think it's me. ' Arrah Peggy aeushla,' said 
 Larry in a low whisper, 'they'll hang you.' ' Mever 
 mind,' said Peggy, ' not till what I'm carrying is born 
 anyhow.' Larry bounded into the yard and giving a 
 gentle tap, the door was opened, then stooping so as 
 not to look too tall, out he went, the soldier bidding 
 the good Irish gal good night. 
 
 Larry cast an eye at the tree and tall scafTolding 
 where his fellow rebels were to be hanged on the mor- 
 row, and favored by the darkness and the storm he 
 struck through a lane. into the fields, and in the morn- 
 ing was far away from his enemies. 
 
 The next day the work of death went on, the three 
 swung from the ash tree, and a green leaf never grew 
 on it since. Two other trees were also there and still 
 are in the same garden, this day in beautiful bloom, 
 old, tall and stately, but not as much as a vestige of 
 a leaf on the other is to be seen, and any person com- 
 ing to Ballina can be pointed out this speaking blight. 
 
 Mrs. Gillespie fell into a deep slumber, and slept 
 soundly. In the morning she was recognised crouched 
 among the condemned. The report was made to Lord 
 Portarlington, who said with a smothered smile of 
 satisfaction, ' I thought to make a present of that fel- 
 low to the King of Prussia, and nothing would satisfy 
 them but his blood. Let them follow him, and let the 
 woman go, I will not order a court martial.' 
 
 Larry Gillespie struck straigh' for the wilds of Erris. 
 Fortunately Captain C'Malley the Irish smuggler, who 
 saved many a rebel leader from the gallows, was land- 
 ing a cargo of brandy and tobacco. 
 
 Larry Gillespie formed one of a dozen rescued from 
 the vengeance of the law, and was landed at Flushing. 
 There the flag of the great Republic gave him protec- 
 tion, and joining the French army he became a candi- 
 date for glory on the battle field. 
 
 In Napoleon's second campaign of Italy, he often 
 thought of the Deel and Lough Con, in his bivouac on 
 the Adige. In the grand army of Boulogne for invad- 
 ing England, his heart yearned for a field where he 
 would meet the oppressors of his country. And at 
 TJlm, Jena, and Friedland he escaped the carnage of 
 those days. His prowess at Friedland caught the 
 eagle eye of Napoleon, and he was joined to the old 
 guard. Having joined Murat's expedition to Spain, he 
 found a field congenial to his wishes during the whole 
 peninsular war, and in Soult's division felled many 
 an English soldier, until Toulouse ended the bloody 
 fray. In the last charge of the old guard at Waterloo, 
 the prowess of the tall Irishman was felt, and one of 
 the last who departed on that bloody rout was Captain 
 Gillespie. 
 
 In the year 181 6, a tall stranger in military appear- 
 ance came to Ballina. A deep scar on his right cheek, 
 and the loss of two fingers showed that he had been a 
 warrior in arms. It was Captain Gillcsjiie ; he went 
 to his native village and the haunts of his early bliss, 
 and^seeing a tall young man of eighteen digging pota- 
 
 toes in a field, the lines of his dear wife's countenance 
 wore marked in his. Making careless inquiries about 
 the village his heart burst with joy when ho learned 
 that his wife was there. Not communicating the 
 parentage to his son, they walked together to the hum- 
 ble cottage, where, rich with two acres of land , a cow, 
 but never deserted by hope they lived together. A 
 woman with bluff and healthy appearance, approach- 
 ing forty, was over her spinning wheel, lifting her head 
 and gazing on the tall soldier-like man ; his face and 
 features were much changed, but looking at the grey 
 twinkling eye, her heart burst, and she fell into a 
 swoon lisping the name of Larry. There she was, a 
 spotless Irish mother worthy of his exiled heart. As 
 he lifted her gently up, he implanted a kiss on her lips, 
 her eyes opened, and on his breast she saw the Cross 
 of the Legion of Honor. 
 
 In three weeks afterwards, father, mother, and son 
 were on their way to America. 
 
 CONAL Ceaknach. 
 [Dublin Celtic Union. 
 
 FOREIGN INTELLIGENCE. 
 
 IRELAND, 
 
 All the public lectures delivered at the Catholic 
 University this summer term have been very well 
 attended. 
 
 A further dividend of Is 6d in the pound, to the 
 depositors in the Tipperary Bank, is announced by 
 the Official Manager. 
 
 We understand that Mr. Dargan has men engag- 
 ed at Arklow, Enniscorthy, and Wexford, in taking 
 an account of the traffic passing through these 
 places, with a view to future railway movements. 
 [Wexford People. 
 
 At a stated general meeting of the Royal Hiber- 
 nian Academy, held on the 17th inst., Terence Far- 
 rell, sculptor, and James F. M'Carthy, architect, 
 were duly elected associate members of that body. 
 
 On Monday evening, Mr. Shine Lalor delivered 
 his lecture on ' The Irish Brigade,' in the hall of 
 the KiUamey Young Men's Society, to a large and 
 highly respectable audience, numbering at least 500 
 persons. Upon the platform and the reserved seats 
 at either side of it, were most of the leading gentle- 
 men and ladies of KiUamey, and the Roman Cath- 
 olic clergy of the locality. The lecture, which oc- 
 cupied over two hours in the delivery, was received 
 with marked enthusiasm. [Tralee Chronicle. 
 
 With truly unaffected regret, we announce the 
 premature and lamented demise of the Rev. Mr. 
 Downing, S F, the young and amiable Superior 
 of the Franciscan Convent, Waterford, which took 
 place last Sunday in that city. He was but a few 
 months returned from Rome, where he completed 
 his studies in the convent of Saint Isidore, and had 
 entered with characteristic ardor on the duties of 
 his new mission, in the discharge of which his rare 
 talents, and his rarer virtues, shone brightly con- 
 spicuous. Requiescat in pace. 
 
 Died at Dehomet, county Down, in his hundred 
 year, John, third son of Robert Malcomson of same 
 place. He was a man of good mental powers, and 
 was one of the few surviving members of the cele- 
 brated Irish Volunteers. Bom in the latter end of 
 17.58, he had all but completed the span of 100 
 years, and was active as a United Irishman in 1798. 
 Throughout the whole of his protracted life, he lived 
 a much respected member of society, and leaves 
 many mourners to regret his demise. [Northern 
 Whig. 
 
 The Channel Fleet. — We understand from good 
 authority, that, after the celebration of the fetes at 
 Cherbourg, the Channel fleet will visit our harbor. 
 This would be a most welcome event, as it is now 
 so considerable a time since any large number of 
 ships of war have been collected here. We should 
 be glad if the Emperor were to send some of his 
 navy at the same time, that they might contrast our 
 harbor with the boasted work which has now been 
 completed, after such enormous toil and expense. 
 
 It is expected that the fleet will arrive towards the 
 end of August. [Cork Reporter. 
 
 We understand the Emperor Napoleon has just 
 confeiTed a signal mark of his favor on the Roman 
 Catholics of Aughrim. His Imperial Majesty, it 
 seems, has been graciously pleased to direct that a 
 set of the richest sacerdotal vestments be forwarded 
 from Paris, to be used from time to time, as our in- 
 formant saith, in the chapel of Aughrim, at the cel- 
 ebration of mass for the sweet repose of the soul of 
 Saint Ruth, a French general of historic fame, who 
 fell in the battle of Aughrim, July 12, 1G91. The 
 spot where Saint Ruth was slain is still shown to 
 the tourists, on the hill of Kilcomoden, within a 
 short distance of the village. [Western Star. 
 
 The Queen's Colleges. — Mr. Blake, M. P., 
 Waterford, has given the following notice of motion 
 for early next session : — Select committee to inquire 
 and report on the working of the Queen's Colleges 
 in Ireland, how far they have fulfilled the objects for 
 which they were instituted, and the best means that 
 could be adopted to induce their being more exten- 
 sively availed of by the classes for whom they are 
 intended ; also to report on thebest mode of placing 
 on a footing satisfactory to all denominations 
 throughout the country, preparatory schools for the 
 above, whether by a special grant, or by compelling 
 a better system of administering the funds of the 
 endowed schools. 
 
 ENGLAND. 
 
 The London Life Association have refused to pay 
 £5,000 policy on the life of the late John Sadleir. 
 
 After a storm which occurred a few days ago, in 
 the neighborhood of Duckinfield, thousands of small 
 toads were found. 
 
 It is now asserted that the great trial, Earl Talbot 
 V Scott and others, for the possession of Alton Tow- 
 ers, &c, will take place in Middlesex. 
 
 The cabinet woods of Canada and the Western 
 States are coming to use. Several careoes of black 
 walnut are now landing at Liverpool direct from 
 the Upper Lakes. 
 
 The inauguration of the Newton Statue, on St. 
 Peter's Hill, Grantham, will take place on the 21st 
 of September, the day before the meeting of the 
 British Association at Leeds. 
 
 FRANCE. 
 
 General Fleury has left Paris to make arrangements 
 with the prefects for the imperial journey through their 
 respective departments. M. Mont-Fortis, painter to 
 the Minister of Marine, and Conservator of the Ma- 
 rine Museum, accompanies the Emperor to Cherbourg, 
 Brest, and L'Orient. He is to paint a picture repre- 
 senting the opening of the docks. 
 
 The Constitutionnel expresses a fear that the guilty 
 parties at Jeddah may escape the vengeance of the 
 Porte, and that innocent blood may be shed through 
 the incapacity or misconduct of the Ottoman func- 
 tionaries. 
 
 It is announced that after leaving Cherbourg, the 
 Empress of the French will go on a pilgrimrge to 
 Auray, a small village in Brittany, celebrated for its 
 butter, and a shrine of the Virgin, which enjoys a wide 
 reputation. Like that of De) Pilar in Spain, its vir- 
 tues are akin to those which pagan superstition as- 
 signed to Lucina — a fact which has given rise to a re- 
 port of an early addition to the imperial family. 
 
 The city of Rome has been enriched with two very 
 fine tombs — that of the sculptor Carlo Pinelli, execu- 
 ted under the direction of Kinaldo Rlnalpi; and that 
 of Cardinal Angleo Mai executed by Benzoni. 
 
 The Presse d'Orient gives an account of three 
 Frenchmen having swan across the Bosphorus, from 
 the landing place of Stenia to the Asiatic coast, near 
 Kandlidja — a feat which took them about fifty minutes 
 to perform. 
 
 Accounts from Tegernsee speak favorably of the 
 improved health of the King of Prussia, but hold out 
 no hope of his Majesty being ever able to resume the 
 reins of power. It appears the doctors' opinions arc 
 unanimous to that effect. 
 
30 
 
 IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 (Krum ' Cniiluiii Kuck in I.uniiun.') 
 REDMOND BARRV. 
 
 Charitv — unci, uLovu all, l',nj;lis|i cimrity — is ostcn- 
 Itiliuus. Tliu lufi liaiid is (juiit-rnllv mm\v a(i|iiiiiiit«il 
 wiiii the iliiiiulioii of ibc ri;;lit ; iiiul even this ij iilwiivs 
 scjtoty, unless ciUlcil I'orili by pnblie luvctinKS or nuws- 
 p»p«r paru(;rttph8. Kut;lisli benuvolcncc, it woulil ap- 
 pear, disdains to an silcuilv ; the names of henelae- 
 tors must be aunuunecd, or nothing will be (,'iven ; 
 and those who solieii arc so well awaie ol' iliis, that 
 they hang out the eatnlogue of subscribers aa regular- 
 ly as the shopkeeper displays his showboard. Noth- 
 ing less than a famine or an inuuitntiun is enleulated 
 to open privaie purses ; and while thousands are sent 
 to distant slates, hundreds of individuals groan at 
 homo in absolute misery, notwithstanding all their 
 national institutions for relieving distress. 
 
 ' I had Haltered my>elf,' says a eonttmporary, ' that 
 the days of Dryden and Otway and Savage were past 
 for ever — that the progress of knowledge and philoso- 
 phieal experieueo hud shown the world, that any ad- 
 vanee made on its part for the encounigement of ge- 
 nius was certain to be refunded in a thousand-fold by 
 the operation of its influer.ec on the movements of 
 soeicty. I thought that no man who by eonnection 
 with, or the possession of, talent, eould lay just claim 
 to the gratitude of his country, would ever find that 
 gratitude cold or reluctant in England — far less, totally 
 wanting. I thought, too, that we had aequired that 
 simplicity of wi^dom which would teach us to express 
 our sense of merit rather by the practical benefits con- 
 ferred on the wcll-deservcr than by marble honors and 
 empty pageans— which are, in reality, nothing more 
 than offering to our own vanity and self-conceit. I 
 was very widely in error. Barry, the painter, has a 
 monument in St. Paul's cathedral — he was followed 
 to the grave by a public procession ;— Redmond, his 
 brother, and a brave servant of his country, who lost 
 his sight in her wars, has jnst died of want in the me- 
 tropolis of Great Britain. 
 
 To whom is this owing ? AVhy was not his situa- 
 tion made known ? 
 
 Kind and compassionate reader — it was — it was. 
 I>ct mc answer your indignant question in my own 
 way. 
 
 There is in this city a society which yon may have 
 heard of. It is called the society for the encourage- 
 ment of Arts, &c. This society pos.'iesses large 
 funds, and distributes tlicin (to do juvticej very liber- 
 ally. 'Twas hut the other day they held an annual 
 meeting at the Opera House, when rewards (medals, 
 money, and othenvise) were flung about in showers to 
 makers of wheelbarrows, straw plats, and I cannot 
 tell what not. 1 have not patience to refer to the list 
 of distributions ; but you will find there that sums of 
 money, from twentv to fifty pounds and upwards, 
 have been accorded for the most trivolous, and, indeed, 
 contemptible occasions which it is possible to conceive. 
 That society are in po.'ssession of a great number of 
 the paintings of the celebrated artist, Barry. Thev 
 are, I believe, to be seen in their room8 at the Adclpbi 
 at this moment. To that society it was very natural 
 that poor Redmond (after the loss of his eyes by 
 lightning had incapacitated him from serving his 
 country, and supporting himself any longer) should 
 have applied for relief and assistance. He did so ; a 
 subscription was set on foot, and forty pounds were 
 procured for him. This sum the poor honest man ap- 
 propriated to the payment of bis debts, and conse- 
 quently found himself as destitute as ever. The socie- 
 ty would do no more. To say they could do no more 
 would be to say that which is not true. They left 
 their painter's brother to starve. The poor man wan- 
 dered into the stieets, and supported himself for a 
 time by begging ! These means failed him. He was 
 threatened with a goal by his landlord. He had never 
 been in prison. Poor fellow ! he had fancied some- 
 thing horrid beyond conception of such a place. The 
 sum he owed was five shillings and sispcnce ! ! For 
 this he was told ' his ohl bones shold rot in a prison ! ' 
 He dragged bis feeble limbs from the garret where he 
 ay, and crawled out of the house of his inhuman 
 
 I creditor. He was found by two friemls sitting near 
 I a church door asking alma. They raised him between 
 them Hunger and lear had completely destroyed the 
 old man's laeulties ! He slirniik jiiid trembled ! The 
 idea of ihi^ prison alone occupied his mind. He said 
 he hoped they would not send him thither. His was 
 unable to go on. Ho rlnsptd his hands— fell on his 
 knees— raised his eyes to Heaven— and expired, in the 
 act of imprecating its justice on his persecutor. 
 
 About eleven months since, I recollect havingmy 
 attention arrested, as I passed through Kuston 
 Place, by a venerable looking old man who was 
 leaning on a stall', and asking an alms of the passen- 
 gers. Something or another in his appearance in- 
 terested me— and I so far fell in with Theodore 
 Hook's ideas of charity as to drop a small piece of 
 coin into his hat. I was afterwards informed that 
 this was the constant haunt of Kedniond Barry ; 
 and should have been persuaded that it was the 
 same I had met, even if after circumstances had not 
 enabled mc to come to a certain judgment upon the 
 subject. The case, I believe, has made its way in- 
 to the newspapers ; but the manner in which it 
 first came to my knowledge was such as I shall not 
 easily lose the remembrance of. 
 
 Ijct my pliilosopliical readers fi.\ the cause — I can 
 only content myself with saying, that I am subject, 
 in a very high degree, to the influence of that facul- 
 ty which is more or less infused into the dispositions 
 of many men — I mean the power of deriving a sat- 
 isfaction from the contemplation of human sorrow. 
 Perhaps it is merely the love of excitement in any 
 sort — perhaps it is the impulse of sympathy — it cer- 
 tainly is not a cruel principle — nor does it ever lead 
 to unworthy results. Well, be that as it may, un- 
 der the influence of this feeling it was that I found 
 myself a few days since making my way into the 
 workhouse of St. Giles's. 
 
 The only striking object which presented itself on 
 my entering — one which was sulRciently so to arrest 
 and fix my whole attention — was what I shall now 
 describe : — A few deal boards were laid together 
 and elevated from the floor. On these lay the corpse 
 of an old man. There was no cofhn — because, as 
 the people informed mc, there was nothing to pro- 
 cure it. The dead person was to sue, in forma 
 pauperis, for a corner of the nearest churchyard. I 
 approached the bier, such as it was. An asrcd wo- 
 D.an stood near the body — she parted the hair upon 
 his forehe'id— gazed on his face — and wept with- 
 out speaking. She had been the wife of the deceas- 
 ed. I thought, as the light fell through the smoked 
 and murky window upon the features of the corpse, 
 that I had seen them before. I was not long in 
 doubt. 
 
 RUSSIA, CONDITION AND PROSPECTS. 
 
 When the Kmperor Nicholas died so suddenly in 
 the midst of a gigantic conflict with England and 
 France, all eyes turned upon his son Alexander, 
 the heir to his throne, with great curiosity as well 
 as immense interest. He had grown up so com- 
 pletely under the shade of the parent tree that no 
 one had ever thought much of him. 
 
 His j'ounger brother of more impetuous spirit 
 and not so amiable a disposition, attracted far more 
 regard from the haughty nobles, most in favor at 
 his father's court, while the grave, quiet young man, 
 who sat regularly at his fathcrs's council board, 
 learning how to act when it should come his turn 
 to preside, seems to have given but few indications 
 of the changes he was going to initiate. The least 
 change of policy must produce great effects among 
 sixty-five millions of subjects, spread out on a ter- 
 ritory that comprises fully one-seventh of the land 
 of the entire globe, and extending over more than 
 half the circuit of the earth in longitude by as much 
 as thirty degrees. 
 
 Jlarried to an amiable wife, he divided his time 
 between domestic life and the routine of the duties 
 
 ' of the Council Chamber, being the most complete 
 young man of the red tape school, in all the domin- 
 i(ms of his father. Indeed, that father was the 
 younger man of the two, to the day of his death. 
 Younger in headstrong ambition, and the most un- 
 steady in those domestic relations from which men 
 of his exalted power have, alas, so many tempta- 
 ; tions to turn aside. It is probable, indeed, that 
 ' the viciousness of the Russian court produced that 
 , general demoralization of the Russian officers of all 
 grades, civil and military, which told so fatally 
 tipon the strength and efticiency of that nation in 
 the late war. 
 
 Nicholas was a sort of Henry ^^II in every re- 
 spect except cutting off" his wives' heads, and now 
 his son bids fair to arise upon Russia, somewhat as 
 Edward VI. did upon England. In both we see 
 the same real, earnest, and supreme purpose to live 
 for the good of their people. In both, that sort of 
 disposition to make wholesale and sweeping re- 
 forms so perilous to immediate success, although, 
 where successful, the foundation of all true great- 
 ness. Alexander seems a worthy successor of his 
 uncle of the same name, whose exalted moral char- 
 acter adorned the adversity of his early fortune, as 
 much as the subsequent prosperity by which his 
 later life was gilded. The nephew has, hov\'evcr, 
 entered upon the work of reformation with so bold 
 and sweeping a hand, that while all statistics show 
 him to be right, if he cannot be immediately sup- 
 ported, he puts in peril his throne and the prosj)cr- 
 ity of the dominion to the last degree. One false 
 step, and all order, the succession of the throne, and 
 all progress in Russia, may be di'iven back for tifty 
 years or more. Should Constantine conspire with 
 the nobles against the freedom of the serfs and the 
 crown of his brother, no one can forsee the con- 
 sequences. Or should there be any successes on 
 the part of the liberated serfs, a panic against free- 
 dom may more than undo all his work, if it does 
 not undue him. 
 
 In Russia the nobles form an oligarchy and de- 
 spatch matters very summarily, conspiring and put- 
 ting an unpopular monarch out of the way, with as 
 little ceremony as they would have done in Scot- 
 land three hundred years ago. Still the power of 
 the sovereign is becoming greater, and that of the 
 nobles less every year. This last stroke of libera- 
 ting the serfs, twenty millions in number, is the 
 most gigantic effort of the kind in the history of 
 our race. If successful, it will lower the power 
 and pride of the nobles, and establish the house of 
 the monarch in the affections of the people for cen- 
 turies. 
 
 So far he has moved on steadily and with seem- 
 ing success. But the British West India movement 
 shows that it may take twenty or thirty years to ena- 
 ble the world fairly to judge of success or non-suc- 
 cess in these sudden movements. A similar effort 
 which he is making in regard to hereditary rank, 
 called Tshim, may prove equally perilous or power- 
 ful for good. In fact, his reforms may prove too 
 headstrong and wholesale for success ; but there is 
 no doubt but that, if he can fairly turn the tide, 
 his system will devclope the resources of his empire, 
 and make his the most splendid and powerful mon- 
 archy the world has yet known. 
 
 TiiK Calcutta letter of the London Times (Junc2dJ 
 has the following : — ' Colonel Stratton, of her Majesty's 
 7"tlif has aiTived from Australia, marched his men to 
 Uundum, eight miles, with their stocks on. An hour 
 after he and his instructor in rifle practice were both 
 dead of appopkxy.' 
 
 The comment of the Times upon the above was as 
 follows: — ' When the justice of Heaven falls, or whrn 
 the laws of Nature vindicate themselves, it was wrong 
 to rijoicc ; but we cannot commit the hypocrisy of 
 ufl'eciing to mourn the death of Colonel Straiten, if in- 
 deed, he fell in such a cause.' 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 31 
 
 TiiR Gkoohai'iiy op tub Ska. — LWut. Maiiiv 
 has imiilo mmiy contributions to science which will 
 ciiiisc liis i\:iini^ to 1)0. remembered for yeiir.'i to come. 
 In lii-i woili, 'The Geography of the Sen,' ho states 
 faet.s of fjreat interest, and dr^iws deduction.? of the 
 most reaching eonscqnence. lie states lliat the d^ ep- 
 est phicc to the sea is supposed to be tlio ])arallels 
 of 35 depf. and 40 dep;. of north latitude, immediately 
 to the south of the Grand Banks. Soundings have 
 revealed tliai the ocean has not so great a depth as it 
 was once supposed to have. The greatest dejiths 
 which have been reached are 25,000 feet, or four miles 
 and three-quarters. As regards tlie saltness of the 
 sea, it is said that taking the average depth of the 
 ocean at two niilo's, and its average saline strength at 
 three and a b.ilf per cent , its salt would cover to the 
 thickness of one mile, an area of seven millions of 
 square miles, all of which passes into the interstices 
 of sea water without increasing its bulk. 
 
 The rivers of the Southern Hemisphere are supplied 
 with their waters by the North-east trade winds ; but 
 us the evaporating surface — that is, the area of sea 
 over which they blow — contains between the parallels 
 of 7 and 10 degrees North, only 25,000,000 of square 
 miles, while the evaporating surface in the Southern 
 Hemisphere is 75,000,000, the quantity of rain which 
 falls in the latter is comparatively small. The mean 
 annual full of rain, which is evaporated principally 
 from the seas of the Torrid Zone, is estimated at above 
 five feet. If we suppose it all to come from that 
 zone, it would be equivalent to the waters of a lake 
 24,000 miles long, 3000 n>iles broad, and 16 feet deep ; 
 and this water is annually raised up into tlie sky, and 
 brought down again by the exquisite though complex 
 machinery of the atmosphere, ' which never wears 
 out nor breaks down, nor fails to do its work at the 
 right time and in the right way.' 
 
 Under the head of Drift Currents, Lieutenant Mau- 
 ry describes a commotion in the water, called ' Tide 
 Rips,' revealving a conflict of tides or currents. They 
 arc generally found near the equatorial calms, starting 
 up without any wind, and moving along at the rate of 
 60 miles an hour with a roaring noise, ' as if they 
 would dash over the frail bark, helplessly flapping its 
 sails against the masts.' To other unexplained move- 
 ments of the sea, the name of Bores and Eagres has 
 been given. The Bores of India, of the Bay of Fun- 
 dy, and of the Amazon, are the most remarkable 
 They are tremendous tidal waves, which roll in period - 
 ically from the sea, engulfing deer, horses, and other 
 wild beasts that frequent the beach. The name Eagre 
 is given to the Bore of Tsien-Tang river. I' attains 
 its greatest magnitude opposite to the city of Hang- 
 chau, one of the busiest in Asia ; and when it appears, 
 it is announced with loud shouts from the sailors, 
 drowned in its noise of thunder. All work comes to 
 a stand. A wall like one of chalk, or rather a catract, 
 4 or 5 miles across and 30 feet high, advances with a 
 velocity o'' 25 miles an hour. It pa.^ses up the river 
 in an instant with diminishing velocity, occasionally 
 reaching a point 80 miles from the city. The rise and 
 fall of the wave is sometimes 40 feet at Hang-chau, 
 and it is supposed to be produced by a peculiar con- 
 figuration of the river and its estuary. 
 
 Recent events have given new interest to every 
 thing that relates to the sea ; and to tho.>e persons 
 who wish to peruse a work of rare me'it on the sub- 
 ject, wc commend the volume of Lieutenant Maury. 
 The principal foreign reviews have m de it the basis 
 of elaborate essays, and the fame of the author has 
 extended to all parts of the civilized world. He has 
 brought new honors upon his country. He has brought 
 new honors upon his country, and fiaincd a name 
 among the most noted men of the times. — Boston 
 Transcript. 
 
 'Whom the Gods Love T)ir. Yorvr!.' — It was 
 among the loveliest custom of the uucients lo bury 
 the young at morning twilight; for, as they strove 
 to give the softest interpretation to death, so they 
 imagined that Aurora, who loved the young, had 
 stolen them to ber embrace. 
 
 CUE PICTUKE GALLERY ! 
 
 A'O. 1 — CAPTtritK OF TUK .SiKOK TuAIN ! 
 
 With the present number of otn* journal, we present to 
 each subscriber to the Irish I'ictorinl Wisecllanj', a ^plcnllid 
 Lithosrnpliio EngraviuR, representing' the glorious scone, 
 which occurred shortly before the capture of Limerick, 
 wliea General Sarsflcld, who connnuuded the Irisli horse, 
 having learned that a large supply of heavy Beige guns was 
 on (lie way to the cnmp of the I'rince of Orange, resolved 
 to capture them. Crossing over the country by a difficult 
 and circuitous rout, so as to intercept the convoy, he came 
 up in front of it at Ivillenumona, attacked William's 
 troops, defeated them and compelled tbem to retreat before 
 the Irisli horse, leaving their artillery iu the bands of Sars- 
 lield. 
 
 Having to rejoin tlie garrison at Limerick, SarsHeld knew 
 it would be impossible to carry with liiin the lienvy Eng- 
 lish guns tlirougli the mountain pa.s-cs. ami ili-tciniiiicd to 
 destroy them. Ue ordered thciu t.> be cliaigc.l [u their ut- 
 most capacity, and imbedded ilccpiv in llic .ailh, with the 
 whole of the baggage train , whiili als(. till iiilci liis hands. 
 A train being laid, the spark w a.^ aiiplic .1 aa.l m a lew sec- 
 onds tlio seige artillery of William uas ^hallciv.l inli. iiinu- 
 merablo fragments This gallant li-at a^lnlIi^lH .1 ihc Eng- 
 lish troops, gave new courage tu tlie Iri^h, ami added lo 
 the great popularity of the gallant Sarslield. The explo- 
 sion shook tlie sarth for miles around, and was beard at an 
 immense distance. 
 
 Tins memorable event is very faithfully and accurately 
 portrayed. It hasnot hitherto, given inspiration, as lar as 
 we can learn, to any of our Irish artists, but now has quite 
 amble justice done it. It makes a most beautiful picture, 
 and we present it to our readers on a sheet of line draw- 
 ing paper, separate from the Miscellany, suitable for 
 
 it wifl at once be seen that we cannot do this without a 
 greatoutlay of capital. We expect to be reimbursed by a 
 very large addition to our subscription list, as no person 
 will be entitled to it who has not paid on or before the 
 the end of the year a year's subscription in advance, dating 
 from our first number. 
 
 Non subscribers will be supplied at WjSO for each plate. 
 
 We are resolved that our subscribers shall possess a 'pic- 
 ture gallery' worthy of the events we propose to commem- 
 orate. This will be the (irst of a series of natiohal pic- 
 TUKEs we propose presenting gratis to our regular subscrib- 
 ers: the second picture of the series will be issued in 
 due time, the subject of which is not yet decided on. We 
 should feel obliged to any of our friends who possess old 
 pictures of remarkable events in Iri.sh history, or portraits 
 of distinguished Irishmen, to forward them to us. They 
 shall be taken good care of. and returned. 
 
 Let our frieuds see to tlieir subscriptions in season. Our 
 Picture Gallery will be fit to adorn the walls of any gentle- 
 man's house in the country, and will, we hope, eventually 
 supersede the wretched daubs which are often met with. 
 
 Will our friends of the press please notice this new fea- 
 ture in our publication, and we will take care that their 
 sanctums are adorned witb choice copies of this national 
 picture. 
 
 »-9-« 
 
 OUE AGENTS. 
 
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 Cleaveland. 
 
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 The Miscellany may also be had, retail, of newspaper and 
 periodical dealers throughout the country. 
 
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 DO'FOriiKE, respectftilly informs his friends and the 
 • public, that he kee]>sconst»nitv on hand CdFI'INti 
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VOLUME 2— NUiMBER 29 ] 
 
 BOSTUN. SATURDAY. AUGUST 28 1858. 
 
 [PRICE FOUR CENTti 
 
 MEMOIR OF DANIEL 
 O'CONNELL. 
 
 [In the annexed cut; the 
 Liberator is represented 
 leaning on the arm of his 
 favorite son. John.] 
 
 The personal history of 
 Mr. O'Connell is identi- 
 fied with the political his- 
 tory of Ireland for nearly 
 the last half century. To 
 publish, therefore, in the 
 columns of a newspaper 
 more than a sketch of his 
 life would be impossible. 
 
 Daniel O'Connell was 
 the eldest son of Morgan 
 O'Connell of Carhen, Esq. 
 and of Catherine, sister of 
 the O'MuUane, of White- 
 church, in the county of 
 Cork, a most respectable 
 and ancient Irish family. 
 He was bom at Carhen, 
 about a mile from the 
 present post town of Ca- 
 hirciveen, in the county 
 of Kerry. His birth oc- 
 curred on the 6th of Aug., 
 1775 — a year rendered 
 memorable by the com- 
 mencement of the contest 
 between England and her 
 American Colonies. It 
 was a date which he was 
 accustomed to notice with 
 no small complacency, for 
 he took much pleasure in 
 reminding the world that 
 he was bom in the year 
 during which the Ameri- 
 can colonies began to as- 
 sert their independence, 
 and he sometimes succeed- 
 ed in persuading his ad- 
 mirers that that incident, 
 taken in connection with 
 others, shadowed forth his 
 destiny as a champion of 
 freedom. In this place 
 his childhood and boyhood 
 were pa sed — with the ex- 
 ception of protracted vis- 
 its to Darrynane, the scat 
 of liis father's eldest broth- 
 er, Maurice O'Connell, 
 who, being childless him- 
 self, adopted his nephews, 
 Daniel and Maurice, and 
 took, in a great measure, 
 the charge" of their educa- 
 tion upon himself. A 
 
 poor old hedge-school- 
 master, named David Ma- 
 honey, was the first per- 
 son who taught Daniel 
 O'Connell his letters. 
 Happening, upon one of 
 his rounds in quest of 
 charitable assistance, to 
 call at Carhen house, he 
 took young 'Dan,' then 
 four years old, upon his 
 lap, and was playing with 
 him, when, perceiving that 
 the child's hair, which 
 was long, had got much 
 tangled, he took out a box 
 comb, and combed it thor- 
 oughly without hurting 
 hin; ; in gratitude for 
 >vhich the child readily 
 consented to learn his let- 
 tei i from the old man, and 
 perfectly and permanently 
 mastered the whole alpha- 
 bet in an hour and a half! 
 At the age of thirteen, 
 he was sent to the school 
 of the Rev. Mr. Harring- 
 ton, the first held by a 
 C itholic priest since the 
 penal laws. At the end 
 of a year his Uncle Mau- 
 rice took him and his 
 brother from this school, 
 and .-ent them to the Con- 
 tinent. He proceeded 
 from Dover to Ostend, 
 and at the former place 
 Mr O'ConncU's first ac- 
 qu lintance with England 
 \N 1 ! marked by a ducking 
 in the surf, the boat hav- 
 in.; capsized through some 
 mismanagement in beach- 
 ing her. Arriving at 
 Luge, he was found to 
 have passed the age when 
 bo^s could be iidmittedas 
 students; and was, there- 
 fore, obliged to return to 
 I ouvain,.to await instruc- 
 ti ins from home, ^\^lile 
 thus d tained, Maurice 
 g u c himself up to boyish 
 amusenunts, but Daniel, 
 prompted by his nobler 
 instincts, entered as a vol- 
 untfer in one of the halls 
 at Louvain, and ere ".h • 
 arrival of letters from home 
 had risen to a high place 
 in a clciss of 1 '^Q boys. 
 
34 
 
 IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 They were ordered to St. Omcr's, where they re- 
 raained a year, wlicn they removed to the English 
 college of Douny for some months. At St. Omcr'a 
 Danii-1 rose to the first place in all the classes. Dr. 
 
 lion was next to nolhing ; and great therefore was the | afternoon exhibitions, when the man of legal points, 
 displinsiire which this union occasioned. It-took |)laco [ formal precedents, and absirusive urKiinientJf wanlrans- 
 privaiely on the 23d of June, lb02, at the lodpings of formed into a fearless rollinn ntjitator, dcclaimln(» in a 
 Mr. James Connoi , the hroiher-ln-law of the bride, in popular meeting, playing with u master's liund, now 
 
 Stapylton, i)residcnt of the college there, writing to Danic-strect, Dublin. This occuireni-e lor some ! on the laughing faculiies, and anon on the deepest sym- 
 
 hia uncle, made the following almost prophetical 
 remark: 'Vith cspect to tlie elder, Daniel, I have 
 but one sentence to write about him, and that is, 
 that I never was so much mistaken in my life as I 
 .shall be, unless he be destined to make a remarka- 
 ble figure in society." 
 
 Hare hunting and fishing were amongst his dar- 
 ling pastimes; and these means of rela.xation con- 
 tinued to fill his leisure hours, even when his years 
 had approximated to thrce-.seore and ten. His 
 eagerness in the amusement of harc-lumting nearly 
 cost him his life in 1798. He reninined at a peas- 
 ant's house in wet clothes, and got cold, which end- 
 ed in a violent typhus fever. In the delirium of the 
 crisis, which threatened a fatal issue, he was con- 
 stantly heard repeating the following lines from the 
 tragedv of ' Douglas ': — 
 
 months remained a secret, but eventually all parties j pathies anil passions, of his auditory, depicting with 
 became reconciled. Mrs. O'Ocnncll was deservedly terrible vividness the wrongs of bis country, and launch- 
 
 * Unknown I die: no toiif;iie shall speak of me: 
 Some noble >'pirits. judf;)ii|; by themselves, 
 May yet conjecture what I might have proved 
 And think life only wnntiriR to my fame.' 
 During the rebellion, Mr. O'ConncU served as a 
 private in the ' Lawyers' Artillery.' His service 
 was signalized by several deeds of bravery and hu- 
 manity. 
 
 From 17 to 70 the energy of his intellect and the 
 ardor of his passions seemed to suffer no abatement. 
 A large and well-used law-library, numerous lia- 
 sons, a pack of beagles, and a good collection of 
 fishing-tackle attested the variety of his tastes, and 
 the vigor of his constitution. 
 
 On the 21st of December, 1793, the day the un- 
 fortunate Louis was beheaded at Paris, the broth- 
 ers set out in a voiture for Calais. As soon as they 
 got into the English packet-boat, they eagerly tore 
 out of their caps the tri-color cockade, which the 
 commonest regard for personal safety had made 
 indispensable at that time in France. Mr. O'Con- 
 ncU has often said that the horrors of the French 
 Revolution made him very nearly a Tory in heart. 
 In this state of mind, and before he had completed his 
 20th year, he became a law student of Lineoln's-inn 
 into which society he was received on the 30ih January, 
 1794. Previous to the year 1793, Roman Catholics 
 were not admitted to the bar, and Mr. O'Connell was 
 among the earliest members of that chur.;h who be- 
 came candidates for legal advancement. His entrance 
 upon the profession of the law, as a barrister, took 
 place on the 19th of .May, 179S, and it must be ac- 
 knowledged that he spared no pains to qualify him- 
 self for that arduous pursuit. Though of a joyous 
 temperament, self-indulgent, he still was not indispos- 
 ed to hard labor, so that be became almost learned in 
 the law before he ever held a brief. Conformably wiih 
 the custom of the Irish bar, Mr. O'Connell prepared 
 himself for any sort of business that might come with- 
 in his reach, whether civil or criminal — whether at 
 common law or in equity. He attended Hardy's trial 
 with strong prejudice against the accused, and sym- 
 pathy with KIdonas the vindicator of law and social 
 order. In the pjogress of the trial, however, he was 
 fully converted, and confirmed in his natural detesta- 
 tion of tyranny and in his desire to resist it. There 
 was no man of the same standing on the Munster 
 circnit, or at the Irish bar, who knew more of his pro- 
 fession than young Mr. O'Connell ; and in a short 
 time he became a very efficient lawyer of all-work. 
 
 Mr. O'Connell had bean four years at the bar, and 
 had entered upon the 28th year of his age, before he 
 contracted matrimony. His fiither and his uncle 
 pointed out more than one young lady of good fortune 
 whose alliance with him in marriage they earnestly 
 desired ; but he felt bound in honor not to violate the 
 vows which he had interchanged with his cousin Mary, 
 the daughter of Dr. O'Connell ofTralee. Her father 
 
 esteemed by her family and friends, while she enjoyed 
 a large share of her husband's all'ection. 
 
 Mr. O'Connell's first public effort as an orator was a 
 speech against the Union. This was a bold siep in a 
 young man. Terrorism reigned over the land — even 
 Protesianis who manifested any national feeling fell 
 under the lian of a bloody intolerance. Undeterred by 
 consider.stions of this kind, he delivered liis maiden 
 speech at a meeting i.f the Cachulics ot Dublin, assem- 
 bled in the I{oyal Knchangi", on the 19tb of January. 
 1800, 10 petition against the proposed incoriioniiion of 
 the Irish with the Hiitish I'uiliament. The pulilie 
 have long been fimiliar with the grounds upon which 
 Mr. O'Connell was accustomed to urge the claim'; of 
 hi< native country to the possession of an independent 
 legislature. !• is believed that he never urged those 
 claims with more effect than in his earlier speeches ; 
 the very liist of which has been extolled as a model 
 of eloquence. 
 
 The great body of the Roman Catholics were only 
 too happy to patronize an aspiring barrister of their 
 own persuasion ; the attorneys on the Munster circuit 
 found that his pleadings were much more worthy of 
 being relied on than those of almost any other junior 
 member of the bar; and soim this description of'husi- 
 ness pound into his hands so iihuniluntly thiit he em- 
 ployed first one, and then s second amimuensis. At 
 nisi prius his manr.er alone was er.eugh to persuade 
 an Irish jury that his client must be right. His antici- 
 pation of victory always seemed so unfeigned that, aid- 
 ed by that and other arts, he seldom fail d to create in 
 the minds of every jury a prijudiee in favor of which- 
 ever party had the good fotune to have hired his 
 services. His astonishing skill in cross-e.xamination • 
 the caution, dexterity and judgment which he dispbived 
 in conducting a cause ; the clearness and precision 
 with which he disent ingled the most intricate mass of 
 evidence, especially in matters of account, procured for 
 him the confidence of all those who had legal patroua"-e 
 to dispense ; before a common jury no man could be 
 more successful than the subject of the present memoir 
 for this, among other reasons, that a large fund of the 
 greatest humor usually enabled him to have the laugh 
 on his side. In the Rolls Court also, where Mr. 
 Curran at that time presided, Mr. O'Connell was in the 
 highest favor. 
 
 The calamitous occurrences of 1803 connected with 
 ' Emmett's rebellion,' found Mr. O'Connell already in 
 good practice as a lawyer. He was called on to serve 
 in the ' Lawyers' Infantry,' when a deep impression 
 was made on his mind by the wanton cruelty which 
 an exasperated citizen soldiery are often too ready to 
 commit, of the tendency that a man has 'when he has 
 arms in his hands, to be a ruffian.' 
 
 Many anecdotes have been at various times retailed, 
 showing the pains which he took to mitigate the atroci- 
 ties of that period ; he certainly manifested throughout 
 his life a strong aversion to actual deeds of blood 
 
 In 1 804 the ' Catholic Board' was dissolved by a 
 Government proclamation ; but it was revived again 
 under the name of the ' Catholic Committee.' The 
 first regularly reported debate of the Catholic body is 
 to be found in the Dublin newspapers of January, 1808, 
 They met in what was loug after called the 'Exhibition 
 House,' in William-street , subsequently, and still, the 
 corporation house of assembly. It was then that Mr. 
 O'Connell commenced his more active exertions for 
 Catholic Emancipation, in which he preserved amidst 
 the greatest discouragements, arising chiefly from the 
 divisions and servility of the Catholics themselves. 
 Many of our readers will recollect Mr. Shell's graphic 
 description of the every day life of the Agitator about 
 this time— of Us early vigils and devotions, his dimly 
 lighted study, his bustle among the attorneys, bis hur 
 
 was esteemed in his profession, but her marriage per- 1 lying to the Four Courts, his forensic displays, and his 
 
 ing startling denunciations against her oppressors. In 
 a letter to Lord Shrewsbury, pulilished in 1842, Mr. 
 O'Connell himself gives the following account ofhis 
 labors : — 
 
 ' For more than twenty years before Emancipation, 
 the burden of the cause was thrown upon mo. I had 
 to arrange the meetings — to prepose resolutions — to 
 furnish replies to the correspondence — to examine the 
 case of each person compUiningofpractieid grievances 
 — to rou>c the torpid — to animate the lukewarm — to 
 control the violent and inflainatory — to avoid the shoals 
 and breakers of the law — to guard against multiplied 
 treachery — and at all times to oppose, at every peril, 
 the powerful and mubiiudinous enemies of the cause. 
 At a period wlieti my minutes were counted by the 
 guinea— when my einolnmcnts were limited only by 
 the extent of my physical aijd waking powers — when 
 my meals were shortened to the narrowest space, and 
 my sleep restricted to the earliest hours before dawn — 
 at that prioi', and for more than twenty years, there 
 was no day that I did not devote from one to two hours, 
 often much more, to the working out of the Catholic 
 cause ; and that niihoui riceiving or allowing the offer 
 ofSny romuiieratiun, ev, n for the personal expenditure 
 incurred in the agitation of the cause iuscll.' 
 
 To sustain hiin-elf in the position which O'Connell 
 held thion;;hjui the uicridiau of his career required 
 great animal energy and unwearied activity of mind. 
 He possessed both. Long before he reached middle 
 life he had become the most industrious man in Ire- 
 land. As early as five o'clock in the morning bis 
 matins weie coududcd, his toilet finished, his morning 
 meal discussed, and his amanuensis at full- work; by 
 eleven he was in court ; and at three or half-past at- 
 tending a board or a committee ; later in the evening 
 presiding at a dinner, but generally retiring \o rest at 
 an early hour, and not only abstaining from the free 
 use of wine, but to some extent denying himself the 
 national beverage of his country. 
 
 He was often heard to say, ' I am the best abused 
 man in all Ireland, brperhaps in all Europe.' Amongst 
 those who delighted to pour upon him the vials of their 
 wrath, the municipal authorities of Dublin were per- 
 haps the most prominent. The old corporation of that 
 city was so corrupt, so feeble, and so thoroughly 
 Orange in its politics, that Mr. O'Connell reckoned 
 confidently upon ' winning golden opinions' from his 
 party, while he indulged his own personal vengeance, 
 by making the civic government of Dublin an object of 
 his fiercest hostility. In the year 181.') this feud bad 
 attained to its utmost height, and various modes of 
 overwhelming their tremendous adversary were sug- 
 gested to the corporators. 
 
 On the 31st of January, 1815, occurred one of the 
 most painful events of Mr. O'Connell's life, the fatal 
 duel with Mr. D'Esterre, a member of the Dublin 
 corporation, which Mr. (J'Connell called ' beggarly' — 
 ' a beggarly corporation.' This was the ofl'ence for 
 whieb he was challenged. Mr. O'Connell's second 
 was Major M'Namara, the late member for Clare. 
 Mr. D'Esterre was accompanied by Sir Edward Stan- 
 ley. They met in Lord Ponsonby's demesne, about 
 twelve miles from the city. D'Estene fired first and 
 missed. Mr. O'Connell's shot took effect in his ad- 
 versary's thigh, which bled profusely. He died in a 
 few days ; Sir Edward Stanley politely informed Mr. 
 O'Co nell that there would be no prosecution. 
 
 Mr. O'Connell did not then feel the remorse and 
 horror at the crime of duelling which he afterwards 
 so often expressed. 
 
 In a few months after the fatal event just record- 
 ed, Mr. O'Connell received a communication tend- 
 ing towards hostility from Sir Robert (then Mr.) 
 Peel, who at that time filled the office of Chief Sec- 
 retary at the Lord Lieutenant of Ireland. Sir 
 
IRISH MISCELLAI^y. 
 
 35 
 
 Charles Saxton, on the part of Mr. Peel, had an in- 
 terview first with the friend of that gentleman, Jlr. 
 Lidwell. The business of exchanging jirotocols 
 went on between the parties for three days, when 
 at length Mr.O'Connell was taken into custody and 
 bound over to keep the peace towards all his fellow- 
 subjects in Ireland ; thereupon Mr. Peel and his 
 friend eventually proceeded to the Continent. Mr. 
 O'Connell followed them to London, but the me- 
 tropolitan police, then called -Bow street officers,' 
 were active enough to bring him before the Chief 
 Justice of England, when he entered into recogniz- 
 ances to keep the peace towards all his majesty's 
 subjects ; and so ended an affair which might have 
 compromised the safety of two men who since that 
 time have tilled no small space in the public mind. 
 
 The period which this narrative has now reached 
 was still many years antecedent to the introduction 
 of the Roman Catholic Relief Bill. Down to that 
 moment Mr. O'Connell prosecuted with unabated 
 vigor his peculiar system of warfare against the 
 supporters of Orange ascendancy, while he pursued 
 his avocations as a lawyer with increasing and em- 
 inent success. As early as the year 1816, his pro- 
 fessional position quite entitled him to a silk gown, 
 but his creed kept him on the outside of the bar, 
 where he continued to enjoy the largest and most 
 lucrative business that ever rewarded the labors of 
 a junior barrister. Meanwhile, that body called the 
 Catholic Association, with O'Connell at its head, 
 carried on the trade of agitating the Irish populace. 
 The latter years of the Regency were marked by a 
 new and more soothing policy towards Ireland. 
 Upon the accession of George IV., he visited that 
 country ; in the early part of his reign the princi- 
 ple of conciliating the O'Connell party was main- 
 tained and extended ; the Liberalism of the Can- 
 ning policy began to prevail ; ' Emancipation ' was 
 made an ' open question.' Mr. O'Connell was, 
 however, like many others, deceived by the prom- 
 ises of George IV.; and he took an active part in 
 hailing his visit to Ireland. On the day of his em- 
 barkation, the Liberator, at the head of a Catholic 
 deputation, presented him with a crown of laurel, 
 which was received ' with sufficient graciousness.' 
 
 For the purpose of reviewing the career and ap- 
 preciating the character of Daniel O'Connell, it is 
 not necessary that the public should now be pre- 
 sented with a detailed history of the Catholic Asso- 
 ciation, or this narrative would ba interrupted by a 
 tedious episode compoundeTd of state trials, of dis- 
 quisitions on the veto, on coercion acts, and on a 
 multitude of other topics, which would tend very 
 little to illustrate the personal history of a man with 
 whom the reader is by this time too well acquaint- 
 ed to require aid from an historical account of pub- 
 lic transactions in Ireland during the time that 
 O'Connell's club went by the name of the ' Catholic 
 Association.' 
 
 Among those who opposed Mr. O'Connell's poli- 
 c as to the veto, and other questions, was Mr. 
 Shell. In 1821 the great leader addressed one of 
 his powerful manifestos to the people of Ireland. 
 Mr. Shell applied himself with all the force of his 
 brilliant eloquence to destroy its impression on the 
 public mind, declaring that his object was to ' de- 
 monstrate the fallacy of his reasoning, andpointout 
 the pernicious tendency of his advice.' Mr. O'Con- 
 nell quickly replied to this ' rhapsody,' as he called 
 it, and complained of the bad names the rhetorician 
 had given him, such as ' a flaming fragment,' ' lava,' 
 ' a straw in amber,' ' a rushlight with fretful fire,' 
 &c. These two great men, however, afterwards be- 
 came cordial friends, and worked together very 
 harmoniously in the Catholic Association. 
 
 With regard to the formation of the Catholic As- 
 sociation in 1823, Mr. John O'Connell contradicts 
 the statement that the first idea of it occurred to Mr. 
 O'Connell and Mr. Shell at a friend's house in the 
 county of Wieklow. He says the idea had origi- 
 
 nated long before in his father's own mind ; and 
 that, wlien he mentioned it to Mr. Shell on the oc- 
 casion in question, the latter expressed his fears and 
 doubts as to the working ; when the other said, he 
 ' would make it work.' The first meeting was held 
 in Dempsy's Hotel, Sackville street. Lord Killeen 
 in the chair. This was on the 12th May, 1823. 
 The meetings were afterwards held at Mr. Coyne's, 
 Capel street. It is remarkable that Mr. ^Enas M'- 
 Donnell, with others, objected to Protestants hav- 
 ing a deliberative voice in the meetings — an objec- 
 tion which Mr. O'Connell overruled. One of the 
 rules requiring that unless there were ten members 
 present at half-past three o'clock, the meeting should 
 be adjourned, it often happened that there was ' no 
 house.' This was sometimes effected by design, to 
 the great annoyance of the leader. On one occa- 
 sion he defeated the plan for securing an adjourn- 
 ment, by almost forcing two young priests into the 
 room. 
 
 Mr. O'Connell took a leading part in the oppo- 
 sition to the Kildare Place Society, when it was de- 
 tected in proselytising practices. From the time 
 the Catholic Association was established to the 
 granting of Emancipation, there was a very hot cru- 
 sade carried on in Ireland against ' Popery.' The 
 leaders in it were Captain Gordon and the Rev. Mr. 
 Pope, a very eloquent clergyman. O'Connell and 
 Sheil encountered them in controversy on the Bible 
 platforms, often leaving the court-house for the 
 purpose, when on circuit. This crusade, the object 
 of which was really political, was almost immedi- 
 ately abandoned as soon as Emancipation was car- 
 ried. 
 
 The parliamentary career of him — the 'member 
 f r all Ireland ' — now more immediately claims our 
 attention ; and it naturally takes its commencement 
 from the first occasion upon which he was returned 
 for Clare. 
 
 Mr. O'Connell was, on the 5th of July, 1828, re- 
 turned to Parliament by a large majority of the 
 Clare electors. He lost no time in presenting him- 
 self at the table of Commons, and expressed his 
 willingness to take the oath of allegiance, but, re- 
 fusing the other oaths, he was ordered to withdraw. 
 Di.scussions in the House and arguments at the bar 
 ensued ; the speedy close of the session, however, 
 precluded any practical result. Agitation through- 
 out every part of Ireland now assamed so formida- 
 ble a character that ministers said they apprehend- 
 ed a civil war, and early in the next session the Ro- 
 man Catholic Relief Bill was introduced and car- 
 ried ; Mr. O'Connell was, therefore, in the month 
 of April, 1829, enabled to sit for Clare without tak- 
 ing the objectionable oaths ; but it was necessary 
 that a new writ should issue, under which he was 
 immediately re-elected. 
 
 The death of George IV. of course led to a now 
 Parliament, when O'Connell withdrew from the 
 representation of Clare, and was returned for the 
 county of Waterford. In the House of Commons, 
 elected in 1831, he sat for his native county (Kerry.) 
 Dublin, the city in which the greater part of his 
 life was spent, enjoyed his services as its represen- 
 tative from 1832 till 1836, when he was petitioned 
 against and unseated, after a long contest, before a 
 committee of the House of Commons. He then 
 for some time took refuge in the representation of 
 Kilkenny ; but, at the general election in 1837, he 
 was once more returned for Dublin, and in 1841 for 
 the county of Cork. Mr. O'Connell had a seat in 
 the House of Commons for eighteen years, under 
 the rule of three successive sovereigns, durin" six 
 administrations and in seven several Parliaments. 
 
 Every reader is aware that he took an active par', 
 in all the legislation of the period, as well as in the 
 various struggles for power and place in which the 
 political parties of England have been engaged dur- 
 ing the last twenty years ; and right vigorously did 
 he bear himself throughout those changing scenes. 
 
 Grattan once said, in reference to Flood, 'An oak 
 of the forest is too old and too great to be trans- 
 planted at fifty. But O'Connell had reached the 
 age of fifty-five before he underwent the process of 
 transplantation; yet his parliamentary character 
 was of hardy and flouishing growth. 
 
 On subjects distinct from the party squabbles of 
 his countrymen, scarcely any one addressed the 
 House more effectively than did Mr. O'Connell ; 
 and it is generally acknowledged that in his speech- 
 es upon the great question of Parliamentary Reform 
 he was surpassed by very few members of either 
 House. His parliamentary speeches are numerous ; 
 but the events of his parliamentary life have been 
 few in number ; yet several propositions have been 
 brought forward in the House of Comm.ons by Mr. 
 O'Connell. Amongst the most remarkable of these 
 was his motion for a repeal of the Irish union, sub- 
 mitted to Parliament on the 22d of April, 1834. 
 Upon that occasion he addressed the House with 
 his usual ability for upwarus of six hours ; and Mr. 
 Rice (now Lord Monteagle) occupied an equal 
 length of time in delivering a reply which might ad- 
 vantageously h.=.ve been reduced within half its di- 
 mensions. After a protracted debate the House di- 
 vided, only one English member voting with Mr. 
 O'Connell, the numbers being 523 to 38. Those 
 who supported him on that remarkable occasion 
 consisted of persons returned to Parliament by the 
 Irish priests, at his recommendation, and pledged 
 to vote as he directed ; they were, therefore, called 
 ' the O'Connell tail ;' and no doubt, when politi- 
 cal parties were balanced, the 30 or 40 members 
 whom he commanded could easily create a prepon- 
 derating influence. Thus it was his power which, 
 from 1835 to 1841, kept the Melbourne Ministry in 
 office. To reward such important aid, the greater 
 portion of the Irish patronage was placed at his dis- 
 posal. The return of the party called Conserva- 
 tives to power in 1841, was the signal for renewed 
 agitation in Ireland, and this led to a lengthened 
 interruption of Mr. O'Connell's parliamentary la- 
 bors ; here, therefore, a fitting opportunity pre- 
 sents itself to state one or two circumstances which 
 were not immediately connected with that portion 
 of his career. In 1834, he received a patent of pre- 
 cedence next after the King's second Serjeant. 
 When the Dublin corporation was reformed, he was 
 elected Alderman, and filled the office of Lord Mayor 
 in 1841-2. Mr. O'OonneJl was appointed a magis- 
 trate of Kerry 'in 1835, but during the violent ex- 
 citement which prevailed in 1843, the Lord Chan- 
 cellor thought it necessary to remove him from the 
 commission of the peace. It is scarcely necessary 
 to remind the reader that, to some extent, the sub- 
 ject of this memoir belonged to a political party, and 
 though at times he would call his political friends 
 'base, bloody and brutal Whigs,' yet, usually, when 
 the Liberals occupied the Cabinet, he endeavored 
 to keep Ireland in a state favorable to Ministerial 
 interests; but on all occasions when the Tories 
 were in the ascendant, the full might of democratic 
 agitation was brought into the field. In the au. 
 tumn of 1841, Sir R. Peel became First Lord of the 
 Treasury. Early in the spring of the following 
 year a repeal of the union was demanded by everv 
 parish, village and hamlet, from the Giant's Cause- 
 way to Cape Clear, while a fierce activity pervaded 
 the Repeal Association. In the course ot the next 
 year, a (1843) ' monster meetings' were held at the 
 royal hill of Tara, on the Curragh of Kildare, on 
 the Rath of Mullaghmast, and in a score of other 
 wild localities; the Irish populace were drilled and 
 marshalled, and marched under appointed leaders 
 whose commands they obeyed with military preci- 
 sion, while the master-spirit who evoked ;md ruled 
 this vast movement announced to all Europe that 
 he was 'at the head of 500,000 loyal subjects, but 
 fighting men." The Irish press enjoined 'Young 
 Ireland ' to imitate the example of 1798, and open 
 
36 
 
 IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 rebellion was hourly apprehcnJcd. At length the cri- 
 sis arrived ; the great Clontiirf meeting was summon- 
 ed ; a Government |iroc'lamalion to prohibit that as- 
 semblage went forth, the military wore called out. 
 The iniendod meetini; at Clontarf was fixed tor the Sih 
 of October, 1843; on the Uth of that month O'Con- 
 nell received notice to put in bail ; on the 2[id of No- 
 vember proceedings commenced m the Court of 
 Queen's Bench ; the whole of Michailnias term was 
 consumed by preliminary proceedings, and the actual 
 trial did not begin until the IGtli of January, 1S44. 
 Twelve gentlemen of the bar appeaR'd on behalf of the 
 Crown, and sixteen defended the traversers ; who, 
 then, can womler that this r.markablo triil did not 
 close till the twelfth of February ; The attention of 
 the court was occupied with that subject alone for the 
 space of five-and-twoniy days. Ai length Mr. O'Oon- 
 Dell was sentenced to p ly a fine of £20110 and be im- 
 prisoned for a year. He immediat'ly appciled lo iho 
 Honse of Lords by writ of error, but p tiding ihe pro- 
 ceedings on the question thus rai-ie>i, he wis sent lo 
 the Richmond Penitentiary near Du'diir, where for 
 about three months ho siemcd lo spmd his dajs and 
 nights most joyously On the 4tli of Si ptember the 
 House of Lords reversed the judgment against D'Con- 
 nell and his associates. Lords Lyndhurst and Brough- 
 am being favorable to affirming the proceedings in 
 the Irish Queen's Bench, while Lords Denham', Camp- 
 bell and Cottenhara were of an opposite opinion. Mr. 
 O'Connell was, therefore, immediately liberated, and a 
 vast procession attended him from prison to his resi- 
 dence in Jlerrion stiuare. 
 
 Will) regard to the question of Repeal, we must 
 charitably think that Mr. O'Connell belli ved in its 
 practicability and speedy accomiilishnient ; otherwise, 
 there would have been great criiuiuality in those posi- 
 tive and vehement promises made to the people, and 
 ratified by solemn appeals to Heaven. 
 
 In 1845, he expressed his determination to repair to 
 London during the ensuing session, to support a repeal 
 of the Com Laws. When he re-entered the House of 
 Commons in 1846, it became evident to every observer 
 that he had suffered very materially in health ; that, 
 though his mind wa.s still unclouded, his physical en- 
 ergy had disappeared, and that he could never again 
 hope to Jie the hero of a ' monster meeting.' Still a 
 considerable portion of his ancient influence had not 
 yet passed out of his hands, and when the Whigs once 
 more came into office, he was restored to the commis- 
 sion of the peace, and exercised no small authority 
 over the Irish patronage of the Crown, of course giv- 
 ing Lord John Russell, in return, the full benefit of his 
 support, to the great dismay of the ' Young Ireland ' 
 party, who regarded his adhesion to any British Min- 
 istry as a traitorous 'surrender of repeal.' Long and 
 loud was the controversy between those belligerenis ; 
 but the reader may well be spared the trouble of pe- 
 rusing even an abstract of the gross invectives poured 
 on his head by a swarm of indignant followers, or a 
 detail of the concessions wrung from him by a-hard 
 necessity. 
 
 How far these contentions aided and developed the 
 disease which now undermined and threatened his ex- 
 istence is difficult to say. But it was evident, on his 
 revisiting London, that a faul change had taken place ; 
 that the strength and spirit of the man were gone. He 
 lingered, however, as we have seen, and undertook a 
 pilgrimage, as much of devotion as of health, towards 
 Rome, when his life and journey closed at Genoa ! 
 
 This memoir of O'Connell may be appropriately 
 brought to a close with the following eloquent out- 
 burst of sentiment : — 'If Ireland is bound to pay a trib- 
 ute of tears and grief to him who had announced him- 
 self as her ' Liberator,' it will be to that magic and in- 
 spired voice which she will hear nojnoie ; to that ar- 
 dent soul which animated an entire people with its 
 breath ; to that eloquence winged like a canticle, mel- 
 ancholy like a psalm, varied like a drama, and through 
 which, occasionally poured the disordered inspiration 
 of ancient prophets : it is, in a word, to the consoler 
 of the afflicted that Ireland owes her regret, and not to 
 ibe avenger of the oppressed.' 
 
 THE FRENCH PRESS ON INDIA. 
 
 Several times already we have intimated, says 
 the Southern Citizen, that those who desire to know 
 the truth about Indian affairs (or for that matter 
 about imy other affairs,) had better look elsewhere 
 than to the English papers.' With respect to India 
 and the war in that country, we have endeavored 
 to penetrate through the British falsehoods to the 
 facts, and to present these latter naked to our reod- 
 ers. It is gratifying to find that a leading French 
 paper, after taking similar pains, has arrived at ex- 
 actly similar conclusions — as follows : — 
 
 To harass the English ; to kill them in skirmish- 
 es ; to occupy them in pursuit from place to place, 
 from fortress to fortress, from province to province ; 
 to reckon, in their cause, on the efficacy of the cli- 
 niotc, and the extension of the rebellion from the 
 Himaleya to the extremity of the Deccan — such are 
 the tactics, such the hopes of the Native Chiefs. 
 
 The insurrection still reigns supreme throughout 
 the plains of the Ganges from the north of llohil- 
 cund to the southern extn-raity of the Kingdom of 
 Oude, whence the insurgents return en masse. The 
 insurrectionary movement, although less violent, 
 continues in the provinces situate to the south of 
 Oude, and particularly in Uehar, despite of the re- 
 cent victories of General Lugard, and the death of 
 the old Kour Singh. The Mussulmans inspire 
 lively apprehensions in the important town of Pat- 
 na, between Benares and Calcutta. In the imme- 
 diate neighborhood even of this latter city, at Bar- 
 raekpore, three Sepoy Regiments, -which are being 
 closely watched, are the subject of constant inqui- 
 etude. Central India is now, as it has been, the the- 
 atre of incessant struggles. Nagpore.in the centre of 
 Berar, threatens again to revolt. The insurrection 
 has re-appeared in the Mahrattahs, at the south- 
 west of Bombay. Through fear of its spreading 
 throughout the Mahrattahs, notwithstanding the death 
 of two insurgent chii fs, reinforcements have been de- 
 spatched 10 Belgaum and Kolapour. 
 
 Nearer still to Bombay, at the east of this city, in 
 the Poolinah district, the capital of the territory claim- 
 ed by Nena Sahib, the Rohillas and Arabs have taken 
 up arms. They pillage the towns ; and it is feared 
 that the revolt will spread throughout the whole Ni- 
 z;im territory, where exists so much of the inflam- 
 mable element, especially amongst the Mussulmans, 
 who are the most fanatical in Hindostan. Let us add 
 that grave symptoms of discontent have been apparent 
 in Cashmere, the defection of which would also draw 
 the Punjaub in the same course. Communication is, 
 it is true, more open than it was some time since be- 
 tween Delhi and the Lower Ganges. Bat it is still so 
 little to be relied upon that they dare not send to Cal- 
 cutta the King of Delhi, whom they are in all haste 
 anxious lo have conveyed to the Andaman Isles ; and 
 the last intelligence represents a body of insurgents 
 as having sacked the town of Khanpour, on the Grand 
 Trunk Road. There are dangers of which we have 
 have not yet spoken, which could, at a given moment, 
 cause a singular complication in the already critical 
 position of England. The revolt, purely military at 
 first, has rendered theemployment of native troops ex- 
 ceedingly precarious. There are, nevertheless, 7.5,000 
 men now in the Punjaub, composed in great part of 
 Sikhs. The Sikhs rendered great service at the siege 
 of Delhi, for they have a profound hatred to the Em- 
 pire of Mogul. But of the throne of Delhi there now 
 remains but the remembrance. The Sikhs have ac- 
 complished their task, and the prophecies are fulfilled ; 
 no national interest attaches them further to the Eng- 
 lish cause ; and those who best know the Indian char- 
 acter fear that these warlike disciples of Nanik will, in 
 their turn, raise the standard of revolt. The latest in- 
 telligence informs us even of a conspiracy having been 
 disco\'ered in one of the Regiments of the Punjaub, of 
 the fidelity of which no doubt was entertained. Were 
 such a defection lo take place, the English cause would 
 indeed be seriously compromised ; for the Sikhs, es- 
 sentially martial, are the best soldiers of India, and 
 may, in many respects, bear comparison with European 
 troops. 
 
 RE>ESTABLISHMENT OF THE MILITIA IN 
 IRELAND. 
 
 Every one recollects the very shameful way the 
 Militia were treated after the Crimeon war. The 
 indignation felt throughout the country was beyond 
 expression, and the feeling of disgust at the penu- 
 rious spirit that dictated so iuipolitic a step was 
 wide-spread. Men who had been lured by fair 
 promises from their ordinary avocations, and partial- 
 ly unfitted for a return to them, were summarily 
 and suddenly flung back on the rural districts with- 
 out the means of a week's subsistence. We doubt 
 much that any promises, or any amount of advant- 
 ages, would induce these men to return to a service 
 in which they had been so ungratefully and cruelly 
 treated. The scene at the disbanding of the Tip- 
 perary Militia must be fresh in the memory of the 
 public, and no one will feel surprised at the effect 
 that scene had, and continues to have, on the coun- 
 try at large. The time has now come, however, 
 when the men are urgently required who were then 
 so heartlessly flung upon the world to shift for 
 themselves as chance might direct. Many of these 
 are probably in the alms-bo jse, many no longer in 
 the country, and some may have contracted habits 
 which have thrown them amongst the worst and 
 most abandoned classes if society, so that they are 
 to be found at the hulks, in jails, or in convict set- 
 tlements. But the Indian mutiny, the general as- 
 pect of affairs in various parts of the world, and 
 even the home defences, require the aid of all the 
 military power that the country can afford. Con- 
 sequently the present Govornment has been com- 
 pelled to frame a measure for the permanent embod- 
 iment of the Militia on a system more satisfactory 
 than the one which has hitherto existed. It is not 
 so easy, however, for either governments or indi- 
 viduals to regain confidence where it has once 
 been grievously and wantonly abused, and those 
 who would under other circumstances have readily 
 joined the Jlilitia, will now hesitate and wait till 
 they see the working of the new system before they 
 place any confidence in it. They will say, and very 
 naturally, too, ' The Government are in a difficulty 
 for men now — there is a scarcity of them — the re- 
 cruiting for India has taken a large number of our 
 disposable people away, and the Militia are called 
 out to supply the place in the thinned ranks of the 
 line. Fair promises will be made again in this time 
 of needj but when the Indian revolt is over, and 
 things assume a more tranquil appearance, these 
 promises will probably be as far from performance 
 as those which were given before.' No one will 
 blame men for expressing such opinions as these. 
 Experience has thought them to be cautious,and they 
 will not be so easily deluded as when they last left 
 their respective callings to enter on a career which 
 ended so much to their disadvantage, and rendered 
 their fniure position so much mote precarious. 
 There is, however, orit advantage attending these 
 results — it will afford another lesson to British Gov- 
 ernments, whether Whig or Tory, in their treat- 
 ment of the people of this country. There is scarce- 
 ly a promise made by any English ministry, from 
 Castlereagh down to the one now in office, that has 
 been fairly carried out — no contract entered into 
 from the Union down to that with our Militia that 
 has not been violated. The Government of Lord 
 Derby, therefore, if it be wise, will avoid the rock on 
 which its predecessors have suffered shipwreck, and 
 will perform to the letter any and every stipulation 
 on which they may enter. England cannot subsist 
 without the aid of Ireland — and it is but common 
 prudence, therefore, to say nothing of common jus- 
 tice, to seek to gain, and when gained, to retain the 
 confidence of every class of Irishmen, in order that 
 the Union may be a reality, and the two countries 
 be indeed sisters, acting in unifoim concert for the 
 advantage, well-being, and prosperity ot both. 
 [Dublin Telegraph. 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 :i7 
 
 ON THE RELATIVE VALUE OF COOD SENSE 
 AND BEAUTY IN WOMAN. 
 
 Notwithstanding the lessons of moralists, and the 
 declamations of philosophers, it cannot be denied 
 that all mankind have a natural love, and even re- 
 spect, for external beauty. In vain do thev respect 
 it as a thing of no value in itself, as a frail and per- 
 ishable flower : in vain do they exhaust all depths 
 of argument, all the stores of fancy, to prove the 
 worthlessness of this amiable gift of nature. How- 
 ever persuasive their reasonings may appear, and 
 however we may for a time, fancy ourselves con- 
 vinced by them, we have in our breasts a certain in- 
 stinct, which never fails to tell us, that all is not 
 satisfactory ; and though we may not be able to 
 prove that they are Wrong, we feel a conviction that 
 it is impossible they should be right. 
 
 They are certainly right in blaming those who are 
 rendered vain by the possession of beauty, since vanity 
 is at all times a fault ; but there is great difference 
 between being vain of a thing, and being happy that 
 we have it ; and that beauty, however little merit a 
 woman can claim to herself for it, is really a quality 
 which she may reasonably rejoice to possess, de- 
 mands, I think, no very labored proof. Every one 
 naturally wishes to please. Important it is that the 
 first impression we produce should be favorable. 
 Now. this first impression is commonly produced 
 through the medium of the eye ; and this is frequent- 
 ly so powerful as to resist for a long time the op- 
 posing evidence of subsequent observation. Let a 
 man of even the soundest judgment be presented to 
 two women, equally strangeis to him, but the one 
 extremely handsome, the other without any remark- 
 able advantages of person, and he will without de- 
 liberation, attach himself first to the former. All 
 men seem in this to be actuated by the same prin- 
 ciples as Socrates, who used to say, that when he 
 saw a beautiful person, he always expected to see it 
 animated by a beautiful soul. The ladies, however, 
 often fall into the fatal error of imagining that a fine 
 person is in our eyes, superior to every other accom- 
 plishment; and those who are so Iiappy as to be en- 
 dowed with it, rely with vain confidcnc on its irre- 
 sistible power, to retain hearts as well as to subdue 
 them. 
 
 Hence ihe lavish care bestowed oa the improvement 
 of exterior and perishable charms, and the neglect of 
 solid and durable excellence ; hence the long list of 
 arts that administer to vanity and lolly, the countless 
 train of glittering accomplishments, and the scanty 
 catalogue of truly valuable acquirements, which com- 
 
 RENVYLE CASTLE, CONNEMARA. 
 
 nose, for the most part, the modern system of fashion- 
 able female education. Yet so far is beauty from be- 
 ing in our eyes an excuse for the want of a cultivated 
 mind, that the women who are bb ssed with it, have, in 
 reality, a much harder task to perform than those of j 
 their sex who are not so distinguished. Even our I 
 self-love here takes part against them; we feel ashamed 
 of having suffered ourselves to be caught like children, 
 by mere outside, and perhaps even fall into the con- 
 trary extreme. Could ' th-: statue that enchants the 
 world' — the Venus de Medicis, at the prayer of some 
 new Pygmalion, become suddenly animated, hosv dis- 
 appointed would he be if she were not endowed with a 
 foul, answerable to the inimitable perfection of the 
 heavenly form? Thus it is with a fine woman, whose 
 only accomplishment is external excellence. She may 
 dazzle for a time ; but when a man has once thought, 
 ' wbtt a pity that such a masterpiece should be but a 
 walking statue,' her empire is at an end. On the other 
 hand, when a woman, the plainness of whose features 
 prevented us noticing her at first, is found, upon nearer 
 acquaintance, to be possessed of the more solid and 
 valuable perfections of the mind, the pleasure we feel 
 in being so agreeably undeceived, make:? her appear to 
 still greater".>idvantage ; and as the mind of man, when 
 left to itsslf, is naturally an enemy to all injustice, we, 
 even unknown to ourselves, strive to repair the wrong 
 we have involutarily done her, by a double portion of 
 attention and regard. 
 
 If these observations be founded in truth, it will 
 appear that, though a woman with a cultivated 
 mind may justly hope to please, without even any 
 superior advantages of person, the loveliest creature 
 that ever came from the hand of her Creator can 
 hope only for a transitory empire, unless she unite 
 with her beauty the more durable charm of intel- 
 lectual excellence. 
 
 The favored child of nature, who combines in 
 herself these united perfections, may be justly con- 
 sidered as the masterpiece of the creation, as the 
 most perfect image of the Divinity here below. 
 Man, the proud lord of the creature, bows willingly 
 his haughty neck beneath her gentle rule. Exalted, 
 tender, beneficent, is the love which she inspires. 
 Even time himself shall respect the all-poworful 
 magic of her beauty. Her charms may fade, but 
 they shall never wither ; and memory still, in the 
 evening of life hanging with fond affection over the 
 blanched rose, shall view through the veil of lap,sed 
 years, the tender bud, the dawning promise, whose 
 beauties once blushed before the beams of the morn- 
 ing sun. 
 
 The above view of Renvj'le Castle, in Connemara, 
 is from a drawing by Samuel Lover, the popular 
 Irish novelist, poet, musician, lecturer, and artist. 
 The Castle is a remarkable ruin overlooking the 
 sea. Here history and romance, with their thous- 
 and recollections, spring up to people the locale with 
 the phantoms of the past, as if specially to heighten, 
 as it were, the present charms of that singularly 
 lovely landscape, by reminiscences of the turbulent 
 and bloody deeds of which it was the site. 
 
 Head Rent of the King's Manors op the Citt 
 OF DcBMN. — Ncere to the citie of Dublin arethefonrc 
 ancient manors annexed to the crowne, which are 
 named to this daie, the King's Innd, to wit, Newcastell, 
 Massaggard, Eschire, and Cromlin. The manor of 
 Crumlin paieth a greater cheso rent to the prinse than 
 anie of the oiher three, which proceeded of this. The 
 seneschal bfiog offended with the tenants for thiir 
 misdemeanor, took thom up verie sharplie in the 
 court, and with rough and minatorie speeches began to 
 menace them. The lobbish and desperate clobberious- 
 nesse (commonalty) taking the matter in dudgeon, 
 made no more words, but knockt their sencschall on 
 the co.'^tard, and K-ft him there sprawling on the ground 
 for dead. For which detestable murihiT their rent 
 was iohansed, and they paie at this daie nine pence an 
 acre, which is double to anie of the other three ma- 
 nors.' 
 
 Quere. Conld not this old mode of checkirg the 
 venerable practice of knocking out the brains of agents 
 be now advantageously adopted f 
 
 The Plaid, ou Clotu of Many Colors. — The 
 different ranks in Ireland were formerly distinguish- 
 ed by the number of colors in their garments. The 
 King wore seven ; the Olhams, or Doc tors, wore 
 six ; and the peasant only one. In Scotland, to 
 this day, the several elans are distinguished by the 
 arrangement of colors, which compose their plaids. 
 The royal plaid contains seven, viz : — red, blue, 
 purple, brown, yellow, white and green. 
 
 The Duke of Hamilton's family being strangers 
 in Scotland until the time of Bruce, have been long 
 honored with the royal plaid, on account of their 
 fidelity and services to the nation and the throne, to 
 which nt one time they were declared the immediate 
 heirs. In the precursory proofs, that Israelites of 
 the tribe of Joseph, came from Egypt into Ireland, 
 it is asserted that the plaid had its orisin in the 
 commemoration of the coat of many col rs which 
 Jacob had prepared for his beloved son. Indeed, 
 the plaid has never yet been satisfactorily account- 
 ed for in any other way. 
 
38 
 
 IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 1 
 
 THK LAD OF GENIUS. 
 
 fiT TBB AtJTlloIl Of 'THE riUITAH'8 GRAVE,' kc. 
 In the following di-lincation, there is so nuiih of 
 truth, and a species of truth, which, if rightly taken 
 up, inny be of infinite service to a very interchting 
 class of renders— our young friends — who, dreaming 
 of the success of one or two celebrated authors, are 
 disposed to try their fortune In the world of litera- 
 ture, that we think one or two pages cannot be bet- 
 ter occupied than affording some idea of what may, 
 generally speaking, be the result of those high hopes 
 and expectations, but too frequently cherished by 
 individuals esteemed by friends as lads of literary 
 genius, Unfortunately, this class is by no means 
 limited to a few. ^\'e have known many, who con- 
 ceiving themselves poskcsscd of literary abilities, 
 have left their quiet homes, and humble occupa- 
 tions, in search of that fame which but few acquire ; 
 and which in the possession of a few, has generally 
 proved a most unprofitable article to trade on. "We 
 know of no profession or calling more humiliating 
 than a * poor author.' There are few worse paid 
 than even clever men obliged to write for their daily 
 bread. The ignis fatuus of authorship has led many 
 a clever youth to ruin ; and with all respect foi the 
 craft, we candidly confess we should rather see our 
 •ons decent shoemakers or tailors — than authors by 
 profession. AVe trvist, therefore, that the moral of 
 the following story may not be lost upon those for 
 whom it is specially intended : 
 
 Ferdinand Ilarwood was the son of honest par- 
 ents, as most people aie whose parents, are not 
 thieves : he was bom, not to the inheritance of 
 wealth, for his father and mother had gone to leave 
 him ; nor to the inheritance of genius, it might be 
 supposed, for his father and mother had quite as 
 little of that as of wealth. But as some persons 
 make shift to get wealth, though not bom to it, 
 80 it sometimes happens that genius is the possession 
 of the son though not of the father or mother. The 
 father of Ferdinand occupied a small fami under a 
 great man, whose name was Sir Arthur Bradley, 
 Bart. ; and it was at a very early age indeed that 
 young Ferdinand knew that Sir Arthur's name was 
 not Bart., but Bradley, and that bart. meant bar- 
 onet. 
 
 The poet Gray, speaks of ' many a flower bom to 
 blush unseen,' ond oil that kind of thing ; but, for 
 the most part, geniuses who have fathers and moth- 
 ers, seldom blush unseen, if they blush at all. 
 Young Ferdinand's genius was first discovered by 
 his father and mother : by them it was communicat- 
 ed to the parish clerk, who happening to be a school- 
 master in a small way, was mightily pleased to 
 reckon among his scholars so great a prodigy. As 
 the youth grew up towards manhood he manifested 
 still further proofs of genius, by his decidedly anti- 
 agricultural propensities. The ordinary implements 
 of husbandry were his utter aversion ; no persuasion 
 in the world could induce him to handle the plough 
 or the spade, harrows were his abomination, and 
 from scythes and sickles he turned away w ith un- 
 disguised disgust. His father was too amiable a 
 man to horsewhip the lad, though he often said, 
 that he did not know what the dickens would be- 
 come of him if he did not leam to work. He loved 
 the fields and the groves, for he would wander 
 therein with a marvellous lackadaisicalness, making 
 poetry while his mother was making puddings. So, 
 in a short time, he became the talk of the village ; 
 and when he was sitting on a gate and reading 
 Thomson's Seasons, the agricultural operatives 
 would pass by gazing with astonishment at the won- 
 drous youth who could find a pleasure in reading ; 
 for it was a striking peculiarity of the lads of the 
 Tillage to think that they had read quite enough at 
 school, and to regard reading for pleasure with as 
 much astonishment as they would look upon ama- 
 tetir hedging and ditching. 
 By the instrumentality of the parish clerk, and 
 
 the parson to boot, the fame of Ferdinand reached I 
 the hall, and became known to Sir Arthur Bradley, 
 who, though no genius himself, was a great admirer 
 of genius in others. Sir Arthur was more than as- 
 tonished, that a young man who was born in a vil- 
 lage, and had never been at college, could write 
 verses; for Sir Arthur himself had been at college 
 upwards of three years, ond notwithstanding all the 
 mathematics, port, ond, morning prayers that he 
 hod undergone there, he could not write si.\ lines of 
 poetry for the life of him. In an evil hour, it hap- 
 pened that Sir Arthur expressed a wish to sec some 
 of that wonderful stuff called poetry, which had 
 bein fabricated by Ferdinond Harwood, ashc swung 
 upon gates or strolled through copses. So the par- 
 son told the clerk, and the clerk told Ferdinand's 
 father, and Ferdinand's father told Ferdinand's 
 mother, and Ferdinand's mother told Ferdinand's 
 self, who forthwith set about mending his pens and 
 ruling his paper, making as much fuss with the 
 purity and neatness of his manuscript as a Jewish 
 Kabbi when transcribing the pentateueh. In a few 
 days the transcription was completed ; and then 
 the difficulty was how to convey the precious treas- 
 ure to the sublime and awful hands of the great and 
 mighty baronet. It was mentioned to the clerk, 
 by whom it «as conveyed to the parson, by whom 
 it was communicated to the baronet, that young 
 Ferdinand Uarwood had transcribed a poem, which 
 he was anxious to lay at the feet of Sir Arthur 
 Bradley. 
 
 As the baronet was now committed as a patron 
 of genius, what could he do better in the way of 
 patronage, than give the genius a dinner ? An in- 
 vitation was sent accordingly ; and then did Fer- 
 dinand, the poet, scarcely know whether he stood 
 upon his head or upon his heels. For a while he 
 doubted whether he was destined to dine at the 
 baronet's own table, or in the housekeeper's room. 
 It was a marvellous thing for him to wear his Sun- 
 day clothes on any other day than Sunday, and still 
 more marvellous for him to wear gloves on any day ; 
 therefore when he found himself on the way to the 
 hall with his Sunday clothes upon his back, and a 
 pair of new gloves on his hands, which stuck out 
 on either side of him, like the tins of a frightened 
 fish, he was overwhelmed with astonishment, and 
 thought that if any of the agricultural operatives 
 should meet him in this guise, they would think 
 him mad. A terrible bumping of his heart gave 
 him notice that he was approaching the mansion ; 
 and while he was hesitating whether he should en- 
 ter by the principal or a side entrance, a servant ap- 
 peared on the steps of the front door, to usher in 
 Mr. Ferdinand Harwood. When the young gentle- 
 man heard his name, for the first time in his life, 
 loudly and seriously announced as Mister Ferdinand 
 Ilarwood, the blood rose to his cheeks, and he proud- 
 ly thought to himself, what a fine thing it is to be a 
 man of genius! 
 
 When the drawing.-roora dooi was opened for 
 him, he was almost afraid to enter it, for the carpet 
 looked too fine to tread upon, and the chairs by far 
 too elegant to sit down on. The voice of Sir Ar- 
 thur Bradley encouraged the youth ; and after the 
 first shock was over, and when he saw w ith his own 
 eyes that persons actually were sitting on these very 
 fine chairs, and were apparently insensible to the 
 awful beauty of the furniture, he, also, at Sir Ar- 
 thur's invitation, seated himself. Having thus de- 
 posited himself, he was next at a loss what to do 
 with his fingers and eyes ; and having looked at the 
 rest of the company, to see how they managed those 
 matters, he found them aU so variously employed, 
 that he knew not what to select as a model. As to 
 the matter of his tongue, he felt as though it was 
 under enchantment, and whether it cleaved to the 
 roof of his mouth, or whether in his fright he had 
 swallowed it, he could scarcely tell. From this 
 state of perplexity he was in time relieved, but only 
 
 to undergo still greater perplexities; for the dining 
 room posed him more than the drawing room had, 
 and he felt very much as one of the uninitiated 
 wotild hove felt, hod he by stealth introduced him- 
 self among the adepts of the heathen mysteries. 
 But when he had taken a glass or two of w ine, he 
 felt the Inspiration of initiation coming upon him, 
 and he was no longer a stranger ; and when Sir 
 Arthur Bradley talked of poetry, Ferdinand Har- 
 wood's countenance brightened up, his tongue was 
 loosened, and he discoursed most eloquently con- 
 cerning Thomson's Seasons, and Young's Night 
 Thoughts 
 
 This visit, gratifying as it was to the literary am- 
 bition of Ferdinand and to the' honest pride of his 
 parents, was not the most propitious event that 
 could have happened to Ferdinand, for it set him to 
 making comparisons, and comparisons are odious. 
 He compared the sanded floor of his father's cottage 
 with the carpeted rooms of the hall ; he compared 
 the splendid sideboard in Sir Arthur's dining room, 
 with the little corner cupboard which contained his 
 cottage crockery ; he looked up to the cottage ceil- 
 ing — it was not far to look, — and there, instead of 
 Grecian lamps, he saw pendent flitches of unelassic- 
 al bacon ; he compared the unceremonious table of 
 his patern.il home wiih the well appointed table of 
 the baronet ; he compared bacon and cabbage with 
 turbot, venison, and such like diet, and gave the 
 preference to the latter. In the next place, all the 
 neighbors thought him proud of having dined at 
 the baronet's house; and they endeavored to mor- 
 tify him and his parents, by making sneering re- 
 marks about genius, and by expressing their won- 
 der that Ferdinand was not brought up to some- 
 thing. But his mother said — and I love her for say- 
 ing so, though she was wrong — his mother said, 
 ' With his talents he may do anything.' So said the 
 parish clerk, so said the parson, so said Sir Arthur 
 Bradley. The worst ot those talents w ith which a 
 man can do any thing, is, that they are at the same 
 time the talents w ith which the owner does nothing. 
 Thus it proved with Ferdinand Harwood ; in pro- 
 cess of time his father and mother both died, and 
 left him sole and undisputed heir to all their pos- 
 sessions. 
 
 Now came upon him the perplexities of business ; 
 he had some difficulty to ascertain what he was worth. 
 The farm which his father had cultivated, and the 
 house in which he had dwelt, belonged to Sir Ar- 
 thur Bradley ; but the furniture of the house, and 
 the stock of the farm, after paying off his father's 
 debts, belonged to Ferdinand ; therefore, the heir 
 with a laudable diligence and propriety of proced- 
 ure, set himself to examine into the amount of the 
 debts, and the extent of the property ; and when he 
 set the one against the other, they seemed as well 
 fitted, as if they had been made for one another; 
 and, thus, when all was settled, nothing remained. 
 Ferdinand consulted with his friends what was best 
 to be done. He spoke first to the parish clerk, his 
 old schoolmaster ; and he was decidedly of opinion 
 that Ferdinand had better consult his friends. M'ith 
 this recommendation he called upon the parson, 
 who was exactly of the same opinion as the clerk, 
 saying that the best thing that he could do, would 
 be to consult his friends. From the parson he went 
 to Sir Arthur himself, who gave him a most cor- 
 dial reception, shook him by the hand with amazing 
 condescension, and expressed his great readiness to 
 serve the young man, according to the best of his 
 power. That was just the thing that Ferdinand 
 wanted. 
 
 ' Do you intend to carry on the farm r' said the 
 worthy baronet. 
 
 ' I should be very happy to do so,' replied Fer- 
 dinand, • only I have no capital, and I don't very 
 well understand farming." 
 
 [Conclusion in our next.J 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 39 
 
 CoNNi'iiiAL AiTECTioN. — I havc oftcn had occa- 
 sion to remark the fortitude with which woman sus- 
 tains the most overwhelming reverses of fortune. 
 _^Thosc disasters which break down the spirit of a 
 man, and prostrate him in the dust, seem to call 
 forth all the energies of the softer sex, and give such 
 intrepidity and elevation to their character, that at 
 times it approaches to sublimity. Nothing can be 
 more touching than to behold a soft and tender fe- 
 male, who had been all weakness and dependence, 
 and alive to every trivial roughness while treading 
 the prosperous paths of life, suddenly rising in men- 
 tal force to be the comforter and supporter of her 
 husband under misfortune, and abiding, with un- 
 shrinking firmness, adversity's liitterest blasts. As 
 the vine which has long twined iis graceful foliage 
 about the oak, and been lifted by it into sunshine, 
 will, when the hardy plant is razed by the thunder- 
 bolt, cling round it with caressing tendrils, and bind 
 up its shattered boughs ; so it is beautifully ordered 
 by Providence that woman, who is the mere de- 
 pendent and ornament of man in his happier hours, 
 should be his stay and solace when smitten with 
 sudden calamity, winding herself into the rugged re- 
 cesses of nature, tenderly supporting the head, and 
 binding up the broken heart. I was once congratu- 
 lating a friend who had around him a blooming 
 family, knit together in the strongest affection. ' I 
 can wish you no better lot,' said he with enthusiasm, 
 ' than to have a wife and children. If you are 
 prosperous, there they are to share your prosperity, 
 if oiherwise, they are there to comfort you.' And 
 indeed, I have observed, that a married man falling 
 into misfortune is more apt to retrieve his situation 
 in the world than a single one, partly because he 
 13 more stimulated to exertion, by the necessity of 
 the helpless and beloved beings who depend upon 
 him for subsistence ; but chiefly because his spirits 
 are soothed and relieved by domestic endearments, 
 and his self-respect kept alive by finding, though all 
 abroad is darkness and humiliation, yet there is still 
 a world of love at home, of which he is the mon- 
 arch. Whereas a single man is apt to run waste 
 and self-ncglectcd, to fancy himself lonely and aban- 
 doned, and his heart falls to ruin, like some desert- 
 ed mansion, for want of an inhabitant. 
 
 Death Watch. — Wallis, in his history of North- 
 umberland, gives the following account of the in- 
 sect so caUed, whose ticking has been thought by 
 ancient superstition to forbode death in a family. 
 The small scarab, called the Death Watch, Scara- 
 boeus gallarus pulsator, is frequently found among 
 dust and decayed rotten wood, lonely and retired. 
 It is one of the smallest of the Vagipemia, of a dark 
 brown, with irregular light brown spots, the belly 
 pliciated, eind the wings under the cases pellucid ; 
 like other beetles the helmet turned up, as it is sup- 
 posed for hearing, the upper lip, hard and shining. 
 By its regular pulsations, like the tickings of a 
 watch, it sometimes surprises those who are strang- 
 ers to its nature and properties — who fancy its beat- 
 ings portend a family change, and the shortening 
 of the thread of life. Put into a box, it may be 
 seen and heard in the act of pulsation, with a small 
 proboscis against the side of it, for food more prob- 
 ably than for hymenial pleasure, as some have fan- 
 cied. He furnishes us too, with tlie means to avert 
 the omen, as given by the satirist, well known as 
 Dean Swift. 
 
 ' But a kettle of scalding water injected 
 Inlallibly cures the timber afTected; 
 The omen is broken, the danger is over, 
 The maggot will die and the yick will recover.' 
 Grose tell us, ' the clicking of a Death Watch is 
 an omen of the death of some one in the house where 
 it is heard.' 
 
 Relieve misfortune quickly. A man — like an egg 
 — the longer ho is kept ia hot water the harder he is 
 when taken oat. 
 
 On thi; Pokmation or Dinv. — Every one knows 
 that as soon as the sun begins to set, the dew begins 
 to fall ; but as many are ignorant of the cause of this, 
 we shall endeavor to explain it. The rays of the 
 sun act more feebly on the ground, and whatever 
 covers it, just before the sun sets, on account of 
 their taking a slanting direction. The air necessari- 
 ly becomes colder, and, as it may be perceived, the 
 grass under foot feels cold and damp. Now all 
 bodies receive heat from the sun during the day- 
 time, and on the return of night emit that heat, 
 and become colder, unless they receive other heat 
 to make up for what they have lost from the absence 
 of the sun ; if this were the case they would conse- 
 quently remains as warm as before, but as it is not 
 so they become cool, and the heat which they have 
 emitted in cooling, surrounds them in the state of 
 a warm vapor, which, coming in contact with the 
 cold body, is condensed and becomes moisture. 
 This is the cause of dew : after sunset, the grass or 
 plants, and even the earth underneath them, emit 
 the heat received during the day ; therefore, their 
 temperature becomes colder, and the warm vapor 
 coming in contact with the surfaces, is condensed, 
 and deposited upon them in the form of little pearly 
 drops of water which is called dew. On calm and 
 clear nights, and during the presence of southerly 
 or westerly winds, the dew is much more abundant 
 than in stormy weather, or during a northerly or 
 easterly wind. For if the night be windy, the warm 
 vapor which is emitted is constantly kept in motion, 
 and the temperature of the earth and herbage remain 
 the same as before ; but if the night be calm, the 
 vapor is condensed without interruption. A south- 
 erly or westerly wind greatly helps the formation of 
 the dew, as these winds carry with them much 
 moisture, on account of their having to pass over 
 a large tract of sea before reaching any large tract 
 of country. 
 
 Dkunkenness. — Many fashionable young men of 
 the present age seem to take a degree of pleasure 
 in inebriety. They will insinuate, even to ladies, 
 their fetes of the bottle, by innuendos, ' I've been 
 keeping it up last night,' &c., but this is founded 
 upon bad principles, and worse taste. If they 
 would reflect that drunkenness particularly de- 
 grades a man from the station he holds relative to 
 the fair sex, it would soon be out of fashion. The 
 Athenians made severe laws against drunkards, and 
 in magistrates it was punished with death, by a 
 law of Solon. The Lacedemonians also proscribed 
 it, and used to e-xpose drunken slaves before the 
 youths to excite disgust. The Nervii used no wine 
 lest they should become effeminate. AVomen were 
 punished severely among the Romans, for that vice. 
 Neither Carthagenians nor Saracens used wine ;' 
 and Mahomet had wise reasons in forbidding it. 
 The Spanish word for drunkard is baraehio (a pig 
 skin) evidently figurative, and a term of degrada- 
 tion, because they carry their wine in a skin tied 
 at both ends ; and even the Cherokee Indians have 
 enacted the severest penalties against the use of 
 spirituous liquors. 
 
 Irish Honor. — In the beginning of the war in Ger- 
 many, after the surrender of the Saxons near Pima, 
 the King of Prussia did every thing that a brave prince 
 sliould not do, to corrupt the Sa.xon troops ; he sooth- 
 ed, he flattered, he menaced, and his endeavors were 
 very successful. He applied against a circle of officers, 
 to one O'Cavanagh, an Irishman, wlio was colonel of 
 the King's guards. ' Sire,' rcjilied the hero, ' my life, 
 my fortune you may dispose of, as they are in your 
 power, but my honor, far beyond the greatness, you 
 shall not, you caunot wound. I have given my faith to 
 the King of Poland, and this faith I will carry unsullied 
 to the grave.' This bold speech was honorably men- 
 tioned in L'Observatcur Hollandois, and other conti- 
 nental papers of that day. 
 
 Inoenuitv oi- A Fox. — The southern shore of 
 Island Magce is steep and craggy, and the cavaties of 
 the rocks inhabited by foxes ; concerning one of these 
 the following anecdote is related : — A fox was observed 
 to have his den in the cavity of a rock, in a situation 
 which seemed to bid defiance to the approach of either 
 man or dog ; many conjectures passed how the animal 
 ascended or d' sccnded thither ; when one morning 
 heirg closely pursued, he was observed to enter in the 
 following manner : some briers growing on the verge 
 of the precipice, and hanging towards his den, he laid 
 hold of them in his month, and slung himself down to 
 a part of the rock which projected, from which he could 
 easily reach his den. The first time after this that he 
 was observed abroad, a man went and cut the briars 
 nearly through, by which he descended, then hunting 
 him with a dog, he proceeded to his usual place of 
 refuge, and caught hold of the briers with his wonted 
 confidence — they gave way, and he was killed with the 
 fall down the precipice. 
 
 A curious instance of the sagacity of the fox occur- 
 red at the Zoological garden, Dublin. A fine fox, 
 preserved there, escaped from the enclosure, and having 
 been seen by two young gentlemen riding in the park, 
 and well mounted, they gave Reynard chase for an 
 hour, during which time he made several ineffectual 
 attempts to get over the boundary wall. He ultimate- 
 ly escaped their pursuit, but on the following day pre- 
 sented himself at the entrance gateway to his old quar- 
 ters, and quietly surrendered himself a prisoner. 
 
 King James the Second. — The wreath of laurel 
 which this unfortunate monarch won by sea was lost by 
 land. Having been a spectator of the battle of the 
 Boyne, on the 1st of July, 1690, he thought it most 
 prudent, while the fate of the day was yet undecided, 
 to seek for safecy in flight. In a few hours he reached 
 the Castle of Dublin, where he was met by Lady Tyr- 
 connell, a woman of spirit. 'Vour countrymen, (the 
 Irish) Madam,' said James, as he was ascending the 
 stairs, can run well.' 'Not quite so well as your Ma- 
 jesty,' retorted her ladyship, ' for I see you have won 
 the race.' Having slept that night in Dublin, he lude 
 the next day to Waterford, a distance of two hundred 
 English miles, in the space of twenty-four hours. On 
 his iirrival in that city, he went immediately on board 
 a ship that lay rcidy for him in the harbor, in order to 
 carry hira to France. As he was passing along the 
 quay a sudden gust of wind carried off his hat, and, as 
 it was night. General O'Farrell, an old ofljcer in the 
 Austrian service, presented him with his own. James 
 took it without any ceremony, observing as he put it 
 on his head, that if he had lost a crown by the Irish, he 
 had gained a hat by them. 
 
 ' Philantrophy, my friends, is of no particular 
 sect ; it is confined by no paltry form of rule; it knows 
 nodisiinction, but that of the happy or unhappy ; It is 
 older than the gospel, eternal as that great source liom 
 whence it springs, and often beats higher in the hea- 
 then's heart, than in those of many who are called 
 Christians ; who, though under the influence of the 
 most benevolent of all possible systems, yet not nn- 
 frequently refuse both relief and compassion to the 
 petitions of the wretched, and the entreaty of the un- 
 happy. God forbid that the genuine feelings of human- 
 ity were confined to this or that mode of "aith ! Ood 
 forbid tliat any ridiculous prejudice should hinder me 
 from reverencing the man, (however we may difl^sr in 
 speculative notions, j whose gentle spirit Hies out to 
 sooth the mourner; whose ear is attentive to the voice 
 of sorrow; whose pittance is shared with those who 
 are not the world's friends; and raiment to the naked ; 
 and whose peaceful steps, as he journeyeth on his way, 
 are blessed, and blessed again by the uplifted eye of 
 thankful .ndigencc, and the sounds of honest gratitude 
 from the lips of wretchedness.' Dean Kirwan. 
 
 Ifyoa wish to increase the size and prominence of 
 your eyes, just keep account of the money you 
 spend foolishly, and add it up at the end of the 
 year. 
 
40 
 
 IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 ADMIRAL HAMELIN. 
 
 Ferdinand Alphonsc Ilniiulin was bom in 1700 
 and comincuced liis t-nrcer iii the Frcncli nuvy in 
 hie oltvintli your, under the protection of liis unile, 
 then Captain of the frigate Venua, and afterwurda 
 Admiral Uaron Hamelin. He was present ot the 
 battle of tirand Port, in the Island of Kcunion, and 
 a subsequent close encounter, in which the Venus 
 was totally destroyed. Ilamelin fonnally entered 
 the navy immediately after this affair, as naval Kn- 
 eign ; in 1813 he became Lieutenant, and sailed a 
 year later ns Adjutant to hi» uncle, appointed to 
 command the squadron off the Scheldt. In IS'27 
 he rendered valuable services to commerce in iin 
 expedition against tlie Algerian pirates, who then 
 infested the Mediterranean ; he was recompensed 
 for this service with the rank of Captain. He ne.tt 
 made a cruise to the South Atlantic, and returned 
 in time to command the corvette Acteon, one of the 
 vessels employed in the expedition against Algiers. 
 Under the government of July he became Kear- 
 Admiral and Vice Admiral, and was appointed 
 commander of the naval forces of France in the Pa- 
 cific, aud subsequently Maritime Prefect at Toulon. 
 In 1853 he was appointed by the Emperor to com- 
 mand the French squadron, then at anchor in Uesi- 
 ka Bay, under Admiral La Sussc ; and on the 17th 
 of October the combined fleets of France and Eng- | 
 land passed the Dardanelles. It was not, however, 
 until the third of January, 1854, that they entered j taken from the Russians, until the end of Starch, 
 the Black Sea. The combined squadrons rendered } when war was declared against Russia by France 
 the Turks a defensive service, enabling them to vie- 1 and England. Shortly afterwards a partial attack 
 tual Batoum and Fort St. Nicholas, which they had \ was made on Odessa, and some military stores were 
 
 ADMIRAL HAMELIN, OF THE FRENCH 
 NAVY. 
 
 destroyed. Sebastopol was guarded, Redout-Kaleh 
 bombarded, and the moutlis of the Danube were 
 placed in a state of blockade. In September the 
 military expedition to the Crimea was undertaken, ' 
 and the co-operation of the (leets with the army 
 commenced. On the 17th of October the siege bat- 
 teries of the allied armies having opened their lire 
 upon Sebastopol, the fleets assailed the forts, the 
 French attacking the Alexander and Quarantine 
 forts to the south of the entrance of Sebastopol. 
 The lire of the fleet did but little damage to the 
 forts, while the ships received serious injury. The 
 per.sonal conduct of Admiral Hamelin during the 
 attack, which he conducted, was marked with great 
 gallantry. A correspondent, who was himself en- 
 gaged in the naval operations, thus describes an in- 
 cident of the day :— 'A shell fell on the Ville de 
 Paris, and blew cip neaily the whole of the poop, 
 on which were standing at the time Admiral Ham- 
 elin and four of his Aides-de-Camp. The Admiral 
 was thrown some feet into the air, but without 
 being hurt. After having glanced at his Aides- 
 de-Camp, one of whom was cut in two, another had 
 both his legs carried away, and a third was slightly 
 wounded, he merely exclaimed, ' Poor fellows !' 
 and resumed the command with as much coolness 
 as before." In December, Admiral llamelin's time 
 of service having expired, he returned to France. 
 Admiral Hamelin was appointed Minister of Ma- 
 rine and of the Colonies on the death of M. Duces. 
 The degree conferring the appointment was made 
 during the Emperor's visit to England, and bears 
 date 'Windsor Castle, April 19, 18.55.' 
 
 VAf.RKTtA Harbor, the Transatlantic Packet Sta- 
 tion, from its extreme westerly position, was long 
 considered the most eligible place to establish it. 
 It is formed by a strait, which separates an island of 
 the same name, 6,418 acres in extent, from the main 
 land ; it has two passages, north-west and south- 
 west, and is well sheltered. The north-west passage, 
 which is that generally used, has deep water through- 
 out ; it is too narrow, however, for the accommoda- 
 tion of large vessels, being only 450 feet in width at 
 low water spring tides. The south-west entrance 
 from Lough Kay is much wider, but it has a bar on 
 which at low water there is only eleven feet; with- 
 in the harbor there is good shelter in from five to 
 seven fathoms water. Near the north-west entrance 
 is Beg Innis Island, on which Cromwell placed a 
 fort, and where there is a lighthouse ; the lantern, 
 fifty-four feet above the level of the sea, displays a 
 fixed white light, seen at a distance of twelve miles, 
 and a signal tower has been erected on Brcahead, 
 the most southern part of Valentia Island The 
 harbor certainly possesses great advantages, from 
 its contiguity to the Skelligs, which consist of three 
 islands. The great Skellig is 7 3-4 miles south-west 
 
 VALENTIA, FROM THE NORTH. 
 
 of Breahead, and 8 miles north-west of Bolushead, 
 and is composed of a mass of slated rock, rising per- 
 pendicularly to the height of 160 feet, and then 
 forms two pyramids, one of which is 1,500 feet above 
 the level of the sea. There are two lighthouses here, 
 they arc 650 feet apart, and are distinguished as the 
 upper and lower Skellig lights ; their lanterns, 372 
 and 173 feet above high water, displaying two fixed 
 white lights, seen respectively at a distance of twcn- i 
 ty-five and eighteen miles at sea. The soundings | 
 about these islands are in ninety fathoms water, , 
 and abound with a great Vdriety offish. St Finan's 'i 
 Bay, formed by the main land, is directly opposite, 
 and BalUskelligs Bay, more to the southward,'the en- 
 trance to which is formed by Bolushead on the 
 north, and Hogshead on the south, near to which 
 arc the Hog Islands, and further south-east is the 
 bay or river of Kenmare, so much frequented by 
 the ancients, and which is navigable at high water to 
 the town of Kenmare, twenty-five miles from the 
 sea. Balladonogan Bay lies between Codshead and 
 Dursey Island, which with three others, the Bull, 
 Cow, and Calf, are near the north-west entrance to 
 the Bantry Bay, which is formed by Blackhallhcad i 
 
 on the north, and Sheepshead on the south. This 
 was also a competing harbor in 1851 for the GoT- 
 emmcnt Transatlantic Packet Station. On Roan- 
 harriek Island, is placed a lighthouse; its lantern, 
 fifty-five feet above the level of the sea, di-plays a 
 fixed white and red light, but there should be a 
 leading light placed on the Bull, which lies out well 
 into the Atlantic for the purpose. Valentia Island, 
 about five miles long and two broad, is situated near 
 the south-west of Ireland, a short distance south of 
 Dingle Bay. One of the largest ships forming the 
 Spanish Armada, commanded by the Prince of As- 
 cule, was wrecked near here, and all on board per- 
 ished, except a cabin boy. Dunmoie Head, lying 
 inside of these islands, is the most westerly point on 
 the main land ; it forms, with the Douglas Head on 
 the south, the entrance to Dingle Bay, which is of 
 considerable width, and affords good anchorage 
 within a mile from either shore. The harbors are 
 Dingle and Ventry on the north ride, and Castle- 
 maine at the eastern extremity, but with the excep- 
 tion of Ventr)-, they are only adapted to vessels re- 
 quiring a moderate draught of water. The bay 
 abounds with fish. 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 41 
 
 TO CORRESPONDENTS. 
 
 [C/*" Oxrtl CoRKKSi'oNunxTS slumlii t'orwnrd comnuinictt- 
 tioim iiiti'mkvl lor iuM'iliuii in tin' iVisrrllnni/, nut lali-r than 
 
 tllf Sutur.hiv bi-airi' lln' (lilv ol i)ubliciilii i» (iiir inciens- 
 
 inj; ciicilhilion colii|ii'N UB to no In ^)^e^s evfiy JliMidiiy 
 monuiii;; uiul shoulil bu uckliT.sscd— ■ Kdilors ol Ibe Irisli 
 MiscellHuy, Uoslou, Muss. SubfCinburB slioukl nienliuu the 
 township, cuuuty uliU tflate iu wliich Ibey rcsiUti. 
 
 HIT* We euunot return any manuticript sentut) for publica- 
 tion. 
 
 IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 BOSTON, SAO'URDAY, AUGUST 28, 1858 
 
 IRISH AMERICAN STEAMSHIPS. 
 
 The reported success of the Atlantic Telegraph 
 enterprise has not ceased to be the engrossing top- 
 ic of conversation in all circles, and many things, 
 some foolish, others wise, have been written, said 
 and sung about it. Among the silly things we have 
 the suggestion, made in many ways from various 
 quarters, to the effect that lightning may yet take 
 the place of steam as a motive power, and that, as 
 our thoughts can be conveyed from America to Eu- 
 rope in a few seconds of time, so may our bodies, 
 be they lean ones or fat ones, be flashed across the 
 ocean by the powerful agent which has already done 
 such wonderfulithings. This notion is scarcely less 
 odd than the one expressed a few days since by a 
 gentleman who was listening attentively to a debate 
 concerning the probabilities of success in the case 
 of the Atlantic Telegraph. He thought that it 
 would be a failure, and he said, that the first dis- 
 patch over the wires would be brought to America 
 by the next steamship from Liverpool to New York. 
 Setting aside the bull contained in the aforesaid 
 answer, we would remark that the genileman enun- 
 ciated a very truthful thing. The kernel of the 
 truth is as follows : Slow coaches bring safest pas- 
 sengers and most reliable news. The Telegraph is 
 but a long step made by the Society for the Diffu- 
 sion of Useful Ignorance. The faster news may 
 travel, the more boldly will the news tell lies. But 
 we will speak of this thing in a future article, mean- 
 while thanking God that packet-ships have not 
 quite gone out of fashion. Let us beg people to be 
 at least content with steamships, until Professor 
 Morse or somebody else may contrive a plan for 
 tossing us bodily over the wires even as he now 
 proposes to transmit our thoughts. 
 
 Inasmuch as we must, for the present, be con- 
 tented with the slow steam coach or vessel, it is 
 worth while to make steam do its duty, and come 
 as near as may be to the requirements of our would- 
 be time and space annihilating age. Among the 
 more obvious means to secure that end was, to 
 shorten the passage across the Atlantic — to start 
 from the westernmost part of the Old World, and 
 land at the easternmost shore of the new. Africa 
 and South America, so far as mere space is concern- 
 ed, would answer the purpose, but, only think of a 
 line of steamships from Guinea to Brazil ! The un; 
 lucky passenger would be in a position to sympa- 
 thise with the man who left Liverpool for New Or- 
 leans. The ticket agent told him that America was 
 not a great country, that Quebec was in America, 
 BO was New Orleans, and that he might as well 
 take a steerage passage to Quebec. He did, and, 
 after on overland journey of two or three thousand 
 miles or so, and having expended four times as 
 much money as would have served him during a 
 voyage direct from Liverpool to his city of refuge, 
 he arrived at New Orleans, a wiser, though a poor- 
 er man. 
 
 The western coast of Ireland has for many years 
 been regarded as the most favorable place for 
 the European side. The men who speak the Eng- 
 lish language, expect and hope, whether for good or 
 for evil, to get the lion's share of the profits whicli 
 may result from such modern discoveries as affect 
 chiefly trade and commerce. But two, aye, we are 
 
 sorry to say it, — three obstacles were presented as 
 against an Irish American line of steamships. , 
 
 In the first place, it was thought that a Liverpool 
 terminus on the other side of the water would pay 
 better than an Irish landing place. This opinion is 
 still held by many old fogies. Now money, — the 
 Dollar, is not only the capstone of the pyramid 
 which represents the type of civilization of the 
 nineteenth century, — it is not only the keystone of 
 the arch which supports the temple of Mammon, but 
 it is also the god before which people in our enlight- 
 ened age fall down and adore with a devotio"n more 
 intense than that which the worshippers of Baal 
 ever rendered to their favorite iaol. Dollars and 
 cents make and unmake bays and harbors, as well 
 as men and communities. But it would seem that 
 even the old fogies are beginning to confess than an 
 investment in an Irish landing place for steamers of 
 the first class would not be an unprofitable invest- 
 ment. This first difficulty is then likely to be over- 
 come. 
 
 In the second place, Liverpool is an English city, 
 and the millions upon millions expended by her 
 monied men upon the harbor and docks, and the 
 very great interest which Liverpool must conse- 
 quently have in the preservation by the city of its 
 name as a commercial centre, must naturally tend 
 to look with avaricious and malignant watchfulness 
 upon every attempt to divert any considerable por- 
 tion of her trade even to an English port, to say 
 nothing of an Irish one. The whole world knows, — 
 didn't Lord Lyndhurst say it ? — that the Catholics 
 of Ireland are aliens in blood, in language, and in 
 religion. The idea of Liverpool giving up the su- 
 premacy in her line of business even to an English 
 rival, was not to be endured, — but, to surrender to 
 the Pope as represented by the Irish papists, was a 
 thing to be resisted ' to the bitter end.' And so it 
 would appear that the complete failure of an Irish 
 line, talked of some eight years ago, and the vexa- 
 tious delays and mysterious accidents which afi'ect- 
 ed the line of steamers now established, may be the 
 handiwork of men interested in the Liverpool trade, 
 and who would see their mammonist city itself 
 buried in the ocean rather than act a subordinate 
 part to the mercantile community of any Irish sea- 
 port. Nevertheless, the world moves on, and Liv- 
 erpool must move with it, and take its turn to move 
 on the sunless side. Men who have read about the 
 rise, progress and decay of seapori towns, from the 
 destruction of Tyre to the culminating fortunes 
 of Liverpool, know that the work of changing a 
 busy place into a lonely one, and a solitude into a 
 lively city, is of constant recurrence in the pages of 
 history, and that it would be no wonderful thing if 
 Liverpool should find herself compelled, at least to 
 share the profits of trade, perhaps to yield them to 
 some Irish city, and resign her supremacy of the 
 seas. She will not do it gracefully. Money, dip- 
 lomacy, British pride and pluck will help her, but, 
 if the Irish route be the cheaper one, — if the god 
 Dollar chooses to perch upon one of the towers of 
 Ireland, then what was once liiverpool must become 
 the foundation of an immense Irish city. Its ashes 
 and ruins would suffice to fU up and pave the 
 streets of the new commercial town. The Atlantic 
 Telegraph has forced men of the world to think of 
 this matter, and we believe that when the cable was 
 laid, the star of Liverpool began to set — men will 
 have, not only news, but goods, by the shortest 
 possible route. 
 
 The last obstacle in the way of a really good line 
 of Irish steamships is this. A large proportion of 
 the capital will come from other than Irish sources, 
 and, as a necessary consequence, the Irish nation 
 may not at first seem to be the gainer by this move- 
 ment. The cuckoo lays her eggs in a nest which 
 she did not build. AVe may offer some suggestions 
 concerning this point in another number of the 
 
 MiSClSLLANY. 
 
 PUBLICATIONS RECEIVED. 
 
 The Demockatic Rkvikw for August. There 
 are several readable articles in this number, among 
 them, a sketch of the life of Mortimer, a noted mem- 
 ber of the Livingston family. A good portrait of 
 the subject is also given. The politics of the Re- 
 view are intensely democratic and progressive with- 
 al. The article on Choate and Gushing will please 
 most readers. That on Neapolitan affairs is a ro- 
 mance scarcely founded on fact. Some one, in an 
 article on Non-intervention, calls Kossuth Heaven- 
 inspired, and asks, — Where is Hungary ? Let Kos- 
 suth go and see. 
 
 Harper's New Monthly Magazine : Septem- 
 ber. This has rather above the average merit of 
 Harper. Some of the illustrations are very comi- 
 cal. We shall have occasion to say a word or two 
 about this magazine in a future number. 
 
 Graham's Magazine. Perhaps the best of its 
 class. The picture of the Idle Boys is a very good 
 one. Lady readers will, of course, be the only prop- 
 er judges of the goodness of the illustrations which 
 Graham gives, apparently without regard to cost. 
 
 New Catholic CnnRCH at Lockport, N. T. — 
 Laborers are again at work upon the walls of this 
 edifice, and the probability is that the outside will he 
 completed late this fall. The building is to be finish- 
 ed by the 1st of September, 1859. It is estimated 
 that the wood work will cost about SIO.OOO — which 
 will make it by far the most costly building in the vil- 
 lage. The windows are to be 26 feet 6 inches high, 
 exclusive of the Gothic termination. There will be 
 seven outside doors, the main one in front being 11 
 feet 5 inches wide, and 20 feet high. The depth of 
 the church on the inside of the walls, will be 120 feet, 
 and the breadth 60 feet ; and when completed, will 
 seat 1464 persons. 
 
 Impartial. — The editor of the Philadelphia Sunday 
 Transcript thus candidly replies to a correspondent, in 
 its last issue : — ' The Irish people are not so stupid, 
 by long odds, as many would have you believe ; the 
 stories, hnmoroas and otherwise, related at their ex- 
 pense, being in nine cases out of ten extremely apoc- 
 ryphal. Some may be 'inveterate blunderers,' and 
 others ' inexplicably ignorant,' but as a general thing, 
 the race has as much intelligence as any other that has 
 suffered through centuries of despotism and degrada- 
 tion. Their elevation to the condition of freemen is 
 marked by gradual social as well as intelleciual ad- 
 vancement, and their offspring, born here, generally 
 become leading and useful citizens.' 
 
 A Splendid Edifice. — The new St. Patrick's 
 Cathedral, in New York, it is estimated, will be com- 
 pleted in five years, and cost §750,000. It will be 140 
 feet front and .325 feet deep. The ground plan is a 
 Latin urn. It is to be built in the Gothic style, with 
 three aisles, separated by lofty arches supported on 
 marble columns, with a small chapel opposite each 
 arch of the nave. The height of the interior will be 
 120 feet in the clear. It will piobahly i-urpass in size 
 and cost any ecclesiastical struciure in America. 
 
 Our Picture. — Agents and others who have not 
 already received our gift picture, will be supplied 
 this week. Dexter & Bro., of N. Y., require so many 
 copies at once, that we are compelled to' lay their 
 order over until next week. 
 
 The Submarine Telegraph Map sold by A. Wil- 
 liams & Co., is the best and most reliable, while 
 it is at the same time, the cheapest that has been 
 published. , 
 
 Bishop McGill, of Richmond, Vs., has received 
 from Archbishop Hughes of New York, a present 
 of a magnificent pair of carriage horses. 
 
 Mr. .John Kvan has retired from the Lawri'nce Senti- 
 nel, which will be conducted by B. F. Watson. 
 
42 
 
 IltlSH MISCELLANY. 
 
 Wrlllen lor the Ml»cfll»liy. 
 ROUND TOWERS OF IRELAND. 
 
 BY TUO.MAS e. DONOIIO, OK IVVWALL. 
 
 Lonely, and dark, and woudcrful they staud, 
 
 UiRautJo ntyHteries of uros pant, 
 In many a vale of Eriu'fi fairy land; 
 By many a river, flowing; wild anil TaHt; 
 On tieatliy hill, and dai\v-i>panf;lrd plain ; 
 On mo»ty rocks; l>c«do tbe moaning iftaln: 
 On flowery i»\vH, that calm and lovely rcKt, 
 In Aoft and sinlesH sleop, upon the lakeV fair brea»t- 
 
 And tbu» like solemn wntiDcIti they »eem, 
 
 81leut and titern throuj^li every change of time, 
 While natiouK pasfl away, an fuden a dream, 
 And centuriei>, with mingled truth and crime, 
 Move to Kternity. And still each tower. 
 Like man tninel'oruu'd by necromantic power, 
 Is doomed to witiieiio, impotent and cold, 
 Tbe slow decay and death of all it knew of oldl 
 
 We know not, and |>erchance we ne'er may know. 
 
 Their iise and orij;i", but Mi.< alone: 
 
 They sprang from earth three thousand years ago; 
 
 And who, with patient toil upreared the stone, 
 
 Swarthy Egyptian, Ilrllou. Christian, Dane? 
 
 Or why : an tombs or temples?— yet io vain 
 
 We ask. Some sagis even doubt their date. 
 
 Those antiquarians keen, whose lives are all debate. 
 
 No legends now exist, or tale, or song. 
 No writlcn page, their history to tell; 
 But Time has made thent sacred. Peasants throng 
 Around them, as unto a holy cell. 
 And there, beside some ancient cro.«s, they pray. 
 At misty morn, or golden close ol day. 
 Kneeling among the tombs, or by the wall 
 or sculptured abbey gray, slow tottering toils fall. 
 
 Tis Fame! These pillars rising Ihrough the Isle, 
 
 Their u.se. their origin, their date — all douhi^ 
 Like pyramids along the reedy Nile 
 Eternal, but eternity without 
 
 The name 't was meant tliey should immortalize: 
 Priest, warrior, king, the trustful founder dies. 
 Ambition! view the Pyramids and Towers! 
 They whisper thee of pride, vain hopes, and wasted 
 powers! 
 
 [Written for tbe Miscellany.) 
 WALKS AND TALKS. 
 
 ot tlmt hour — in carriages of all kinds, and on horses 
 of all kinds. Many ladies (how ewquisitc!) went 
 by, their cuntcrin); steeds seeming prmid, as they 
 should be, of the lovely burdens — of the laughing 
 nymphs — the swift-talking, witty maidens ! 
 
 And the Secretaries of our land, and the Minis- 
 ters of many another, with their happy faniilies, 
 were abroad also, to breathe the free, pure air, and 
 to see, and be seen. 
 
 AVc passed an open carriage, drawn by two fine 
 horses, and driven by a servant not in livery It 
 was a phiin equipage, substantial and comfortable, 
 but not at all likely to attract particular attention — 
 indeed, inferior to others on the street. An old gen- 
 tleman, quite alone, sat on the back seat. The sun 
 was behind a cloud at the moment, and the old gen- 
 tleman had taken advantage of the circumstance, 
 and removed his hat. The breeze stirred his white 
 hair. He looked not so much exhausted by the heat 
 of the day as by cnres and an.xieties. You would 
 think him a person who, after having been very ac- 
 tive since morning, and much disturbed by busi- 
 ness — some lawyer, perhaps, with hard cases — was 
 now returning to his country home, and making an 
 effort, by the way, to take all things coolly In 
 form he was tall and stout — but evidently worn in 
 body and spirit ; yet, undoubtedly, was he a man 
 who had taken up ' arms against a sea of trouolcs," 
 and probably by ' opposing ' would ' end them.' 
 There were indications of great kindness of heart on 
 the marked features of the gentleman, and also of 
 great force of character. With a beaming smile he 
 returned our salutation. Yes, it is now evident 
 from the expression of his face, that James Buchan- 
 an is not only the profound statesman and sage, 
 but the good and genial-souled man. Those who 
 know him intimately love to speak of his simple 
 manners, his cordial friendship, and his frequent 
 outbursts of gentle wit and merriment. 
 
 He is going, at present, to his rural retreat, ' The 
 Soldier's Home,' about five miles distant. We shall 
 arrive there before him, and have time to glance at 
 the building. 
 
 Boundary street is passed. Ascending a great 
 hill, from the summit of which is a wide view of 
 the city and the river, we find ourselves at Colum- 
 bia College, a large and venerable edifice, surmount- 
 ed by a belvedere and belfry, and surrounded by 
 extensive grounds, open and wooded, where the 
 scattered dwellings of the Professors appear. We 
 will not stop now, but only, as passing, look 
 through the long, wide hall, (the doors being open 
 at either extremity,) — ob.serving a group of stu- 
 dents there — and some entering from the side rooms 
 — while a few stand on the porches, and others are 
 exercising in the garden. The belfry sends out its 
 old familiar sound, and the students dart away 
 supper-ward. 
 
 A little further, and we leave the main road, and 
 pursue our favorite way, which is more like a path, 
 and winds among noble trees, and over hills and 
 dales. Yonder white tower, far up in the blue air, 
 is the Soldier's Home. Here's the gate. A par- 
 tially disabled warrior opens it for us, and we ride 
 in — on a well-kept road — bordered by flowers and 
 trees — past a beautiful, ivied cottage — and to the 
 
 BY VEUNON. 
 
 •As I walked by myself, 
 I talked to myself, 
 
 And thus myself said to me.' 
 
 — I was in the mood for it. Indeed, 1 had no 
 inclination for anything else. And when the pro- 
 position was made to Savage, he was in the mood, 
 too. For we were both weary of the book and the 
 pen, and longed for the refreshing leaves of nature. 
 
 My friend knew but little of the vicinity of Wash- 
 ington. His few excursions had been confined to 
 high-ways, where the chief object of interest was the 
 toll-gate ; and so, when I mentioned a certain 
 charming bywoy, that wound about carelessly 
 through the woods, and where no such impertinent 
 'stand and deliver' should ever be seen — he was de- 
 lighted. Of course, he was delighted. 
 
 ' Let us be olf !' he said ; and we yere off, in less 
 than half an hour thereafter. 
 
 Surely tljere never was a more beautiful afternoon 
 than that of our August day ; with its breeze-tem- 
 pered sunshine, beautiful for everything : — and es- 
 pecially for a ride on horseback. 
 
 We had dined together at Ivywall, and had 
 lounged on the sofa after dinner; but still it was ' grand marble porch, beneath the tower. Dismount- 
 ing, we admire the broad lawn in front, where the 
 
 blue Potomac, and its dreamlike, sacred shores ! 
 We gaze around the blooming circle, and still, at 
 every view, exclaim : • How beautiful !' 
 
 The sound of a closing gate attracts attention — 
 and, pressing along the same winding road hy which 
 we came, we sec the President. Now he descends 
 at the wide piazza of yonder stone villa, and quietly 
 enters the door. Peace at last! The Pilgrim-bur- 
 den has fallen from his weary shoulders, and, at 
 least till the morrow, he may rest. 
 
 \Vc often turn and look back at the marble tow- 
 er as we proceed along the sequestered road, and 
 a sentiment is in our hearts that keeps us silent: 
 we compare the great Magistrote of the I>and to the 
 sun which now is calmly rutiring to the western for- 
 est, after a glorious and beneficent course. 
 
 Reapers on the f eld. They bind the sheaves of 
 grain. They form, unaware, a picture for us, which 
 we see on the golden-bordered canvass ; they in- 
 spire, unaware, a poem for us, which makes music 
 in the sunny air, and in the mysterious cloisters of 
 the heart. The scene recalled to my companion an 
 incident in Ireland, relating to John O'Mahony, 
 who, being outlawed for his patriotism, was sud- 
 denly compelled to leave his residence, and seek the 
 close woods and wild bills. His com stood on the 
 field, ripe for the gatherer. But ^he harvest of 
 ' Moulough ' should not be lost ; its master had 
 gone — yet the people loved and remembered him 
 and his course. My friend was present, and from 
 that day he took 'his fate with O'Mahony." As 
 we passed along our solitary path. Savage sang, with 
 deep emotion, the following stanzas from his poem 
 commemorating the incident : — 
 
 ' From far and wide the reapers came— through love bis 
 course they bore — 
 From Commeragh's wild to Slievenamon — from Grange 
 to Galfeemore — 
 Like streamlets rushing to the sea, like wrecked men to a 
 rock. 
 They hurried down and gathered at tbe Reaping of 
 Moulough! 
 
 God bless the hardy Reapers! and Lord bless the mind that 
 gave 
 The thoughts that made their sinners aid and help the out- 
 lawed brave! 
 The mind that lives in noble deeds, all earth-made vaunted 
 mock — 
 And souls like yours are Freedom's hope, ye Reapers of 
 Monlough! 
 
 Oh, bend the Reapers joyfully! — the hook with fervor plies! 
 And maidens of the sunny South bind up the falling 
 prize ! 
 Oh, may the tyrants of oursoil so fall before onr wrath, 
 And wives of Irish conquerere aid to bind them in their 
 path!' 
 
 With such glowing reminiscences, and with bold 
 fancies and hopes, we slowly returned to I^'ywall, 
 feeling that truth and liberty should yet — 
 
 ' Rain influence, and adjudge the prize!' 
 The stars of evening were then over us. We look- 
 ed to the stars, and read the destiny of man ! 
 
 early. iTie small bronze clock on the mantel struck 
 five as we were leaving the room. 
 
 Maye mine, and the fairest ' gentle Savage,' wav- 
 ed us and spoke us loving farewells, from the cas - 
 mcntofthc 'Rose,' with sundry charges 'not to 
 forget to come back,' and 'be sure to find a pretty 
 ride, for they would be our companions next time.' 
 Our horses exhibited unusual animation, as they 
 bore us along Fourteenth street, toward the north- 
 ern boundary. For this street is a broad and long, 
 straight and level one, and the chosen for eques- 
 trian exercise ; beside which, it leads to the most 
 p leasant part of tlie country. Everybody was abroad 
 
 starry banner ttoats on the breeze — the flowers — the 
 winding paths, and the ever-pleasing variety of sun- 
 shine and shade. Visiters arc seen here and there — 
 here and there are parties of uniformed soldiers.' 
 
 Let us ascend the tower. This is a magnificent 
 hall — these are princely apartments on either side — 
 the dining room is majestic indeed — but we must on 
 quickly, up the great iron stairs — up the narrow 
 stairs of the tovscr, till now we issue on its roof, 
 protected by a marble balustrade. 
 
 O, how beautiful ! Woods, and hills, and vales, 
 cultivated farms and sheltered homes, tbe city, the 
 
 Eaiu.y Tkaining. — It was the remark of a man 
 of sagacity, if we were left to choose any ten years 
 of the life of an individual in which to form his 
 character, he should select the first ten. Admit- 
 ting the correctness of this judgment — and the wisest 
 of men hath said, ' Train up a child in the way he 
 should go, and when he is old, he will not depart 
 from it ' — is there not a strong possibility, amount- 
 ing to almost a moral certainty, that good princi- 
 ples instilled into the minds of children, moral 
 principles inculcated, and wisely enforced, will, 
 with the blessing of God, enter so deeply into the 
 formation of their character, and gain such strength 
 and influence, that nothing but the most desolating 
 torrent of moral degeneracy can evei sweep them 
 away. 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 43 
 
 [Written for the Irish Misoclhiiiy] 
 
 PADDY'S INVITATION TO NAPOLEON. 
 
 BY DAUBY MOKEOH. 
 
 Mnvronc iisthorc, 1 invite 5011 o'er 
 To Imve fun galore in poor I'luUiy'w land. 
 
 There 's ' Cead meaJa faulties ' for you in store, 
 And thousands to meet you upon tlic strand. 
 
 Then you shall hear a pood Irish clieer, 
 
 With acclamations oi lieartfelt joy 
 Keverberating round from Cape Clear 
 
 O'er the glorious plains of old Fontenoy! 
 
 Our holy island, with verdure smiling. 
 Has scenes beguiling, beauteous, and rare: 
 
 Green vales and mountains, bright gushing fountains, 
 And streamlets flowing through boners fair; 
 
 That for past ages nursed saints and sages, 
 liold warriors, patriots, and martyrs too. 
 
 Whose names shine glorious in history's pages 
 For deeds of valor the world through. 
 
 That greedy Saxon, so fond of taxin' 
 Our virtuous, faithful, queen-mother isle, 
 
 Will feel outrageous bekase I 'm axin' 
 Your Highness over to spend a while. 
 
 That do n't alarm us : the power to harm us 
 
 He lost that morning at Inkerman; 
 The toothless boaster and proud imposter. 
 
 Whose laorels faded at the Kedan;— 
 
 Perfidious villain, whose blood-stained sbillin' 
 Starvation forced ns to take too long, 
 
 To bind the chains on our nation's plains, 
 And shed our blood in the cause of wrong. 
 
 We curse that power, and await tlie hour 
 
 Of retribution, that '8 coming fast. 
 One hope shone bright through our dreary night — 
 
 That hope of vengeance is ours at last ! 
 
 Our lovely Erin they 've robbed and plundered. 
 Her children banished to every land; 
 
 They bound her bleeding with woes unnumbered, 
 Her temples ruined, her iaith they bann'd. 
 
 But still, despite of all persecution, 
 She stands arrayed in her virgin green, 
 
 With robes unstained by their vile pollution. 
 Bright, pure, and spotless, like Heaven's queen. 
 
 Her exiles over the Western Ocean 
 
 Bid me invite you to take a cruise. 
 Their big hearts beating with wild emotion, 
 
 In hopes some morning to hear the newe. 
 
 They bid me state it;— they 've watched and waited. 
 
 With joy elated, well knowing you 
 Can have affairs all soon regulated 
 
 To wipe the stain out from Waterloo! 
 
 [Written for the Miscellany.] 
 
 NOTES FROM A JOURNAL. 
 
 liT J. E. F. 
 
 No. 9 — County of Clare. 
 
 The County of Clare possesses not a few places of 
 interest and picturesque scenery. It has many pretty 
 coantry towns and villages, and not the least among 
 these are the towns of Ennistymon and Lahinch, the 
 latter of which is on a small scale what Brighton is to 
 London, to the western towns and cities of Ireland. It 
 has a beautiful strand, extending for miles, and at pre- 
 sent the white-washed cottages have a neat and tidy 
 look. The day on which we visited Lahinch was the 
 occurrence of an annual festival called ' Garland Sun- 
 day,' and on this day the people for miles around flock 
 here to celebrate it in every conceivable way. Early 
 in the afternoon, there was a race between two horses 
 under the saddle for a small purse, and, to judge from 
 the excitement among the crowd, you would think 
 the sweepstakes of the ' Derby ' were up for compe- 
 tition. 
 
 Leaving early we proceeded along the coast of the 
 broad Atlantic, lentil our arrival at Miltown, another 
 watering-place, though on a smaller scale. Near Mil- 
 town, at a place called Spanish Point, there are some 
 great curiosities, called the ' Puffing Caverns." Ger- 
 ald Griffin, in his ' Tales of the Museum Festivals,' 
 gives the followmg description of one of these : — ' Tht 
 puffing-hole is a cavern near the. base of a elift' which 
 vaalts the enormous mass of crag to a considerable 
 
 distance inland, where it has a narrow opening, ap- 
 pearing to tlie eyes of a stranger like a deep natural 
 well. When the tremendous sea abroad rolls into this 
 cavern, the eft'cct is precisely the same ns if wati r was 
 forced into an inverted funnel, its impetus of course 
 Increasing as it descends through the narrow neck, 
 until, at length reaching the perpendicular opening, or 
 puffing-hole, it jels frequently to an immense height 
 in the air, and falls in rain on the mossy ticlds behind.' 
 There was another party at Spani,h Point to day, 
 among whom was a most conceited top, as his sections 
 plainly showed, and gaing near to the edge of the cliff 
 to get a better view, the cavern puffed unexpectedly, 
 drenching the fop completely, and he went away mur- 
 muring idat ' it-aw-was too bad-aw !' amid the laugh- 
 ter of the lookers on. Spanish Point is said to have 
 been so named from the fact that some ships of the 
 famous Spanish Armada, were wrecked off this point, 
 and some say tfiere are many kogs of doubloons at the 
 bottom of the sea, a few rods f.om the shore. At the 
 caverns we witnessed a curious phenomenon ; rainbow 
 on the spray, which seemed at first a reflection from the 
 sky, but the day was too scorchiag for a rainbow in 
 the heavens. 
 
 Passing through the town at Ennistymon on our 
 return, I will say a few words about it. The town has 
 a population of about 2,000, of the better class — the 
 land is principally owned by Col. Francis Macnamara, 
 whose father. Major Macnamara, was O'Connell's 
 second in his (fuel with D'Esterre, and who was said 
 to so much resemble George IV. as to be frequently 
 taken for the royal personage. The Colonel has a 
 handsome estate in the town, but he is an absentee, 
 and his time is mostly spent in I ondon. The river at 
 Ennistymon comes dashing over some ten or a dozen 
 rocks in succession, and as you look upward at these 
 Niagara Falls in miniature when the river is swollen, 
 it has more the appearance of art than of nature. 
 There is a pretty walk for visitors by these cescades, 
 and this leads you into a beautiful and romantic glen 
 by the side of a murmuring brook, in which the sport- 
 ing trout are seen leaping in its limpid waters. The 
 brook is occasionally crossed by rustic bridges, some 
 of which are fifty feet above the scrap, and it is some- 
 times no easy task for a person of weak nerves to cross 
 them. A few years ago, a schoolmaster accidentally 
 slipped off one of the bridges and was drowned in the 
 keep pool beneath. The place is since called ' Poul- 
 masther-sheuUa." 
 
 Ennistymon is the centre of a great many interest- 
 ing places, and at the coach-office of Mr. Russcl, (a 
 most accommodating gentleman) we hired a post-car 
 to visit Moher. 
 
 The Cliffs of Moher, on the West coast of Clare, 
 are indeed well worth a visit from any part of Ireland. 
 They are on the estate of the late Cornelius O'Brien, 
 who represented Clare in Parliament for many years. 
 There is a slope fiom the land for about a mile, ter- 
 minating abruptly at the cliffs, and the beholder looks 
 down upon the waters of the Atlantic from an altitude 
 of 800 feet. The huge rocks at the base seem like 
 pebbles, and a boat seems but a speck upon the wa- 
 ters. From the top of the tower, which is built at the 
 edge of the cliffs, with the aid of a telescope we could 
 see numerous vessels on their way to America. There 
 is said to be no land west of this hut America, and 
 the numerous vessels sailing out of English ports have 
 to come opposite to where 
 
 * Moher frowns over the fathomless deep.' 
 ere they are on the straight rond to ' the land ol the 
 free.' Across the bay, the Coiinemara Mountains, 
 cone and pyramid-shaped, seem to mingle with the 
 clouds, and seemingly at their base stands the town of 
 Galway. Mid-way between us and Galway, are the 
 Isles of Arran, inhabiied chiefly by fishermen and 
 their families. The men wear blue woolen jackets 
 and trowsers, sou'-westers, and shoes made from the 
 skin of the ass. The women mostly wear red cloaks, 
 and shoes of the same material as the men. 
 
 The sides of the Clift's are alive with various kinds 
 of birds, whose screaming borne upward by the wind 
 seems like the music of the Irish pipes. There are 
 
 a few men here who gain a livelihood by descending 
 the cliffs by means of a rope tied around their waists 
 to collect guano, eggs, birds, sea-weed, &c. Four 
 men hold the end of the rope on top, and the 
 person descending is provided with a basket, in 
 which he puts whatever is to be hauled up. 
 This is a perilous tqsk, and not a few accidents have 
 occurred, yet they would descend any time, for a 
 few pence. Some two weeks since, one of the 
 •cliff-men,' as they are called, let his daughter down 
 about mid-way, to a shelving rock, on which she 
 could stand, to till the basket with guano, to be 
 hauled up by those above. The signal was to pull 
 on the rope when she had it full, and she had ac- 
 cordingly pulled it when they commenced to haul. 
 By some means she got her arm« entangled in the 
 basket, and was drawn up to within a few feet of 
 the top, when her hold loosened, and she was dash- 
 ed to pieces Ijng ere she reached the bottom. 
 
 One of the cliff-men told us that at another time, 
 while he was being drawn up by those above, the 
 rope broke, and he fell a great distance, but the 
 force of the descent was broken by falling on a pro- 
 jecting rock, and he came off with some very bad 
 bruises. 
 
 We descended the cliffs, not cliff-men fashion, 
 but by a serpentine path where they are not so steep. 
 This in itself is a dangerous task, for if you make 
 a mis-step, you will fall headlong to the bottom, and 
 of course be killed. But we reached the base in 
 safety, and when we looked up at the cliffs the sight 
 was magnificent in the highest degree. From the 
 top of the cliffs you get a view that is simply grand, 
 but from here there is something sublime in the im- 
 posing mass which seems to overhang you, and 
 threatens to tumble down as you stand gazing at it, 
 with something akin to awe. 
 
 Not earing to ascend the cliffs again, we hired a 
 boat which lay moored near the mouth of a cave, 
 but neither money nor entreaties could induce 
 the boatman to row us into it, as he said it was once 
 the abode of pirates, and whoever dared enter would 
 get his throat cut by the ghost of one of these Kydd- 
 ites, who guards the plunder in the cave. 
 
 A few hours rowing brought us to the village of 
 Liseanor, where our post-car was waiting for us, 
 and in less than an hour we had reached Ennisty- 
 mon, pleased and satisfied with our day at the Cliffs, 
 
 The Jubge and the Witne;ss. — The Boston Post 
 of Monday has the following ' good 'un' : — ' Our 
 Brown brings us a story from one of the southern 
 cities of the Empire State, which he says is as true as 
 any fact in ' York State.' Judge G. is well known 
 to the bar of the southern counties as a decided 
 ' character,' and more good stories are told about him 
 than any man on the bench in that region. The 
 judge's manner in court is dogmatic, pregmatie, and 
 arrogant, and nothing pleases the bar so well as to see 
 him heartily laughed at. They had a fine chance one 
 day when an Irish witness was on the stand, who, being 
 rather unmanageable, was taken in hand by the jndge 
 with a manner which said very plainly ' You shall see, 
 gentlemen, how I will handle him.' 'Well, Dennis,' 
 said the judge, blandly, 'tell me the contents of that 
 chest.' ' Yes, ye'r worship,' said the witness, eagerly, 
 ' First, there was a picture of Dan O'Connell — the 
 great Irish pathriot — maybe yer honor's heard of him?' 
 ' Certiiinly,' said the judge, ' go on with the invent- 
 ory.' ' Then there was a picture of our Lord and 
 Saviour Jesus Ciirist — mayhe yer honor's heard of 
 him V The unaffected look of inquiry and doubt 
 that accompanied the witness's words set the audience 
 in a roar of laughter — and the judge will never hear the 
 last of it. 
 
 Tub Right Rkv. Dr Wat.sh, Archbishop of 
 Halifax, died at the Episcopal residence in that city a 
 few days ago. He had long suffered from sickness, 
 anil was highly and widely esteemed for )iis talents and 
 virtues. 
 
44 
 
 IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 (From the Dublin Ci-ltlc Union.) 
 THE 'EMPIRE- AND THE IRISH PROVINCE. 
 Drowning men arc said to ciitrh at straws and in 
 the confusion of a pori^liing and blind agony to clutch 
 at nothings with energies that, differently and rightly 
 directed, would have achieved security. 
 
 Thus the country has its eyes rivotted upon a packet 
 from Galway to America, as if its return was to bring 
 to them the gold of California, the independence of 
 the Americans, and the glory of the stripes and stars. 
 Nay, the very ship looks beautiful in their eyes, as 
 though the woH-dog was couched beneath Bryan's 
 harp, upon her stem, and the glorious sun-burst of 
 Old Ireland fluttered over her deck; while the projeclor 
 of this very proper Britisli speculation, is hailed and 
 honore<l as a patriot and a national benefactor. 
 
 Do wo exaggerate this Galway Packet business ? 
 Do wo sneer at the interest felt in its success ? 
 
 We neither exaggerate nor sneer. We wish to the 
 city of the tribes all the commercial adviftitages which 
 a direct communication with America may bring to 
 her desolate ijuays ; and it shall gladden our eyes to 
 behold new docks and warehouses, and a large traffic 
 resulting from this enterprise. And if after long years 
 tall ships disgorge the traffic of two worlds upon Gal- 
 way's shores, and long Iuggat;e trains will carry them 
 with hissing steam to the ea.stem bay of old Dunleary, 
 thence to enter England ; our heart sliall bo so far 
 gladdened with the increased industry and employment, 
 which shall give the Connaught capital comparative 
 prosperity. 
 
 We once knew a noble-minded merchant who, having 
 failed in the world and fallen into the very depths ot 
 poverty, was yet too proud to hog, and with a big 
 national heart pulsating in his breast, he stood upon 
 the quays of Livirpool, and from the earnin(;s of hum- 
 ble porterage he wrung an honest livelihood, and in 
 years came back to his own Ireland to stand there as 
 he onc« had stood. 
 
 tjalway brings back his story to our memory. If 
 this packet trip succeeds, she is destined to be free. 
 No! to carry England's commerce on her shoulder, 
 and make something by it. She is to be John Bull's 
 special portir as Ireland is his special vassal. 
 
 Galway may grow richer, the shares of the Western 
 Railway Company may rise in value, but what will it 
 benetit Cork or Londonderry ? 
 
 It will not lessen British taxes in Ireland, it will not 
 create a national commerce, or national manufactures; 
 it will not extend our fisheries, reclaim our bogs or 
 open our mines. 
 
 It will not bring freedom or domestic legislation. It 
 is 0. good, but only a local good. No doubtit is agood 
 worth looking at, and as such we watch it with interest; 
 but we would ask the eyes that look most yearningly 
 after it, not to rest there, but to look beyond it, and to 
 look determinedly for that home rule which will secure 
 it, and a thousand greater blessings with it. 
 
 Local improvements, local advances are of value. 
 We value them most when we bihold them progressing 
 in the direction of the common good of the common 
 country. We value them least if they tend to isolate 
 the locality or its interest from that of the country at 
 large. 
 
 A cold shadow passes over our heart when we think 
 of a petition which was presented to the Irish Commons 
 in 1800 praying for a union «ith Great Britain, because 
 the petitioners, who were southern merchants, did be- 
 lieve the union would personally aggrandise them by 
 giving to the south the trade which Dublin was sure 
 to lose when she would lose her parliament. Selfish- 
 ness is the mother of treason. Let us not be misunder- 
 stood. We do wish that the Galway project shall suc- 
 ceed. We pray for its success because, though the 
 modicum be small, it is yet a good and therefore desir- 
 able. But it should not be permitted to turn the Irish 
 aspirations aside from greater things ! 
 
 When we hear of this packet coming and hear 
 
 men earnestly speculating upon its arrival, the 
 
 words of Tell rush upon us—' But when will liberty 
 
 be here ?' 
 
 One circumstance connected with the sailing of the 
 
 'Empire' from Galway has afforded us much interest; 
 we allude to the impression gone abroad that Liver- 
 pool jealousies were used foully to damage the success 
 of the undertaking. 
 
 How far thii be true or false wc will not presume in 
 this special case to prejudge. Two wretched human 
 beings will most probably have been tried for the 
 ott'ence ere this article shall meet the light, but in no 
 case would we. before that trial, seek to prejudice the 
 public mind by word or sentence against tbeiu. Wo 
 only hope that if there be guilt, and deep and terrible 
 guilt, it would bo as well jfgciust the country 
 as against human life and happiness, that 
 the criminals who instigated the offence may be dis- 
 covered and reached even in their hidden security, for 
 if ever the principle of ' Facit per all urn facit per so' 
 had force, it should be iu the case of such an atrocity 
 as this. 
 
 If the Empire was piloted in the direction of that 
 hidden rock thnmgh tlie stupidity or ignorance of the 
 pilots who undertook a duty they were unequal to, then 
 do we trust that their punishment shall be simply a 
 declaration of their incapacity to ever act as sea-guides 
 again ; but if it should appear that the ruin which 
 threatened the ' Empire ship,' and the consequent 
 certain failure of the attempt to make Galway the 
 European port for America was the result of premedi- 
 tation, we hope that Irish lawyers will be found to sift 
 to the bottom the motives and the influences which 
 could tempt men to such a crime, and that if there be 
 instigators to the foul deed they shall be reached, and 
 that ihcy shall be the parties upon whom a condign 
 punishment may tall, for he who bribes and tempts to 
 crime by the reward he offers to the perpetrator is as- 
 suredly far guiltier than the wretch whose necessities 
 may have laid him open to the tempting offer, and 
 who might well exclaim 'My poverty and will consents.' 
 In such a case the real criminals would be the mer- 
 chants, the class, the party or the peoiile who, actuated 
 by a jealous rivalry of Ireland, had purchased the 
 serrices of other men to do a deed they would not 
 stain their own hands or names with, forgetful that 
 the crime should stain their consciences and blast their 
 very salvation. 
 
 In this light have we, for long years, viewed the 
 bribery and corruption witli which English jealousy 
 has sought to degrade and destroy everything Irish, 
 pouring its hatiful poison through every vein of the 
 state, from an ermined judgeship, down to a village 
 schoolmaster, pervading all classes, all grades, all pro- 
 fessions, all occupations, and so staining the body 
 politic herewith a sort of foul leprosy, that some re- 
 flecting men have been led to think our country un- 
 fitted for liberty, or for moral or physical regeneration, 
 and that it is destined to remain branded by provincial 
 degredation, a thing tabooed, because of its meanness, 
 amongst the natives of the earth. 
 
 Is this our belief '. Heaven forbid, and yet we can 
 understand why reasoning men have so thought. 
 
 Failure through corruption, failure by reason of 
 bribery with plaie or money, has been the chronicled 
 history of Ireland's attempts at liberty, under all her 
 Norman-Saxen rulers, from Strongbow to StraH'ord, 
 from Straftord to Castlercagh, and from Caotlereagh 
 to Russell and Clarendon. 
 
 For seven years she has been ruled by bribery in 
 one shape or other, until the highest offices and places 
 in Ireland have become accessible, not by eagh s as the 
 proverb hath it, but by slimy reptiles who crept from 
 the low places. 
 
 And the toad was crowned with a precious stone 
 upon his forehead, and became a thing to honor and 
 worship, iri^limen, how long, oh ! how long shall 
 this continue ? It cannot outlive your discovery of it, 
 if your souls imlignantly repel the contaminated and 
 the contaminators. Truly has Grattdn said when 
 speaking of such a s'jite of things, ' In a free country, 
 the path of public treachery leads to the block, but in a 
 nation governed like a province, to the helm !' 
 
 Is tt)cre no remedy ? there is a remedy. Domestic 
 legislation! a home parliament, properly representative 
 of the people, ideotilied with the people, and resolutely 
 
 careful of the real interests of the people and of the 
 country. Therein lies the remedy. 
 
 Will Irishmen awake and look for this remedy, or 
 are they satisfied that Ireland shall remain ' but a 
 suburb to England, sunk in her shade?' 
 
 Ireland needs bnt the resolve of her people to at 
 once avail herself of far greater benefits and greater 
 blessings than can result from a mere transatlantic 
 traffic with Galway. 
 
 She needs extended trade — that oommerce for which 
 nature fitted her with the finest bays and harbors in the 
 world ; those manufactures for which she possesses 
 such immense water power, and such cheap labor. She 
 wants bog< reclaimed — mines worked — church and 
 sect a,scendancy pulled down — landlord and tenant 
 differences adjusted — laws made for her own soil and 
 people — weighty taxes diminished — honest educaetion 
 for her children — honorable and manly training for her 
 youth. A patronage that will reward and not degrade. 
 Home resources to be fostered and nursed into luxu- 
 riant growth — foreign advantages to be sought after 
 and secured. Home rule can do those things, and it 
 is only home rule can do them. This is no new thought; 
 sixty years ago such thoughts found utterance in Ire- 
 land, and were poured forth in words, which the travel- 
 ler who visits Lord Rosse's monster telescope may 
 not find engraved upon a tablet in Birr Castle ; but 
 which nevertheless sheds an honor upon the name of 
 Parsons in Ireland prouder than the discovery of even 
 a new star ; for they bear evidence to a high apprecia- 
 tion of what Ireland might be, mingled with sad regrets 
 over her fall and degradation. ' Who,' e.tclaimed 
 Lord Rosse's ancestor, 'Who out of Ireland ever hears 
 of Ireland ? What n imc have we amongst the nations 
 of the earth? Who fears us? Who respects us ? What 
 notion have foreign states of us ? Where are our 
 ncgociaiors ? Where are our ambassadors ? What 
 treaties do we enter into ? What alliance do we form ' 
 With what nation do we make peace, or declare war 1 
 Are we not a mere cypher in all these? and are not 
 these what gives a nation consequence, and glory, and 
 fame ? All these arc sacrificed to the union with Eng- 
 land ; absorbed in her, we forego everything that is 
 great and aspiring, and are satisfied with our humble 
 and obscure situation !' 
 
 Discontent grows with years, and the time is coming 
 which will prove all are not satisfied with Ireland's 
 ' humble and obscure situation.' 
 
 This very business of the Empire ship will turn 
 men's eyes and direct their thoughts to ihe considera- 
 tion of English jealousy of the growth of trade in Ire- 
 land. Even men who have already swallowed the 
 camel, and now strain at the gnat, will have their 
 blindness removed , but they must not cry out at poor 
 men becoming criminals against their country for 
 British gold, while they tolerate, in the highest places 
 of the land, fouler corruption still. The accident, be 
 it accident or design, is valuable too, in its own hum- 
 ble way, as a straw upon a great river to show how the 
 current runs. It iudicatcs what will be done to keep. 
 Ireland down, and what shall be done to raise Ireland 
 up by those in the country who are yet honest enough 
 to love her, and independent enough to avow it. Men 
 who can resist temptation, and are bold enough to ex- 
 claim in the words of poor Egan, the chairman of 
 Kilmainham, who recording his vote against the ac- 
 cursed union expressed him.self, ' Ireland for ever, and 
 to H — II with Kilmainham !' 
 
 Irish Indefendknce. — Now that Ireland, says the 
 New York Herald, has become, by the establishment 
 of the Ailaniie telegraph and the Galway steamship 
 line, the highway of the nations between the two hem- 
 ispheres, it becomes of the utmost importance that her 
 government should be fairly and impartially adminis- 
 tered, and that no one nation should, have exclusive 
 jurisdiction over the island. Great Britain has now 
 both termini of the great telegraph on her dominions. 
 It is not meet that she should have this power. She 
 ought to be well satisfied with the exclusive control of 
 one of them. Irehind must be either neutral or inde- 
 pendent. 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 45 
 
 FOREIGN INTEULICENCE. 
 
 IRELAND. 
 
 The Rev. Mr. Hogan, of the Irish College, Paris, 
 the Kcv. Mr. Hognn, Professor of St. Sulpice Col- 
 lege, Paris, and the Kev. 11. O'Brien, of All Hallows 
 College have arrived in Limerick. 
 
 A man named Ryan, died suddenly in New-street, 
 on Monday night. An inquest was held on the body 
 by James J Shee, Esq., coroner, and a verdict returned 
 according to the facts. [Tipperary Examiner. 
 
 An inquest was held in Waterford, on Monday, on 
 the body of an old man, uamed Patrick Cashen, who 
 was accidentally drowned, on the Sunday week pre- 
 viously, at Ferrybank. Verdict — Accidental death. 
 
 The Right Rev. Dr. O'Brien, Roman Catholic 
 Bishop of Waterford and Lismore, has appointed 
 the Rev. Mr. Delaney, President of St. John's Col- 
 lege, in this city ; the Rev. Michael Terry has been 
 appointed Catholic Curate of Knobkamore and Kill- 
 ■watei-moy. [Waterford Chronicle. 
 
 A handsome iron screw steamer was launched a 
 few days since from the shipping-j'ard of Mr. Rob- 
 inson, and now lies in the river, awaiting the com- 
 pletion of her external gear. She is called the Bil- 
 boa. She is about 100 horse power — tonnage in 
 proportion. Her trading destination is not yet pos- 
 itively known. [Cork Reporter. 
 
 An old tradesman, resident in the Glen of Aherlow, 
 was recently married at Caher, by Father Keane, upon 
 a certificate which he obtained from him thirty years 
 ago, at a time when he was about bestowing his 
 affections on the person of a juvenile character. The 
 old bridegroom stated that as he was unable to 
 succeed then in luring the young girl into the 
 bonds of Hymen, he kept the certificate, and after 
 so long a lapse, he has at length turned it to profitable 
 account. 
 
 On Sunday, the 25th ultimo, the Rev. John Do- 
 herty expired at his parochial residence, Clonmaney. 
 This is the third Priest of the diocese of Derry who 
 has died within the short space of little more than 
 two months. Father Doherty was comparatively a 
 young man ; he died in the 54th year of his age, and 
 in the 30th of his Ministry. He entered the mission 
 in 1828 as Curate of Strabane, having succeeded 
 there the present venerable Pastor of Culdalf. He 
 remained here about si.x years, at the end of which 
 time he was appointed Parish Priest of Dungiven. 
 
 A movement has been made in Belfast to aid in 
 the collection for the large orphanfamily of poor no- 
 ble John Hogan, the sculptor. We hope Belfast 
 ■will do its duty well in this matter. The local hon- 
 orary secretaries are Messrs H. H. Bottomly and J. 
 M. Thompson, who will gladly receive subscrip- 
 tions from all lovers of Irish art and genius. We 
 earnestly hope that in this movement for the relief 
 of the helpless family of a great Irishman, the Cath- 
 olics of Belfast will not hold back. We shall be 
 glad to take chargeof any subscriptions entrusted to 
 us. [Ulsterman. 
 
 SEKiors Riot in Cashel. — On Tuesday evening 
 a private of the North Tipperary Light Infantry was 
 arrested by the constabulary in Cashel, for being 
 drunk and disorderly. Immediately after his ar- 
 rest, a number of his comrades rescued him, and a 
 serious emeute took place between them and the 
 police. Stones were thrown by the militia, and 
 cries to break open the arms store freely used. The 
 police had to retreat into their barracks, and one of 
 them was badly wounded on the head, and a wo- 
 ■wan was also seriously hurt from blows of stones. 
 The infuriated Light Infantry then attacked the bar- 
 racks, and broke the windows ; after which they 
 proceeded to demolish the windows of the inhabit- 
 ants, who had to close their shops to save their 
 property from destruction. The Hon. Martin J. 
 French, R M, was quickly on the spot, and read the 
 Riot Act, after which he ordered the constabulary 
 to load with ball cartridge, tin order which was at 
 once obeyed. 
 
 Friday week, at a meeting of the Harbor Board, a 
 tender from Mr. John Murphy, of George's street, was 
 accepted to erect a new Crune and build its platform, 
 opposite Exchange street, (or £280. Mr Francis Ste- 
 phenson, C. E., was appointed to superintend the 
 erection. [Waterford Chronicle. 
 
 Dr. Callan held an inquest on Monday week, near 
 Carlingford, on the body of a woman named Anne 
 Comiskey, who was killed on the Saturday evening 
 previous by a flash of hghtning, as she was on her way 
 towards Dundalk. A woman named Eliza Hamill 
 was about three feet behind her when she was 
 struck down and expired. Verdict nccordingly. Dr. 
 Callan held another inquest on the same day at 
 Mansfieldstown on the body of Pat M'Shane, who died 
 suddenly on Sunday evening, of disease of the 
 heart. Verdict — Died from natural causes. [Dundalk 
 Democrat. 
 
 During a thunder&torm on Saturday last, a young 
 woman named Stundon, was killed by lightning, at 
 Glouner^allive, near Rattoo in this county. It appears 
 that the deceased and a little girl were driving a flock 
 of geese when the thunder came on ; the little girl got 
 frightened and ran home. The deceased not having 
 returned, a lad was sent to look for her and found her 
 on her knees quite dead, with a mushroon in her hand, 
 as if she had at the moment stooped to pick it up. The 
 geese were scattered about dead, many of them torn 
 in pieces. Our informant told us that on a farm 
 in that locality two colts were killed at the same time. 
 [Keny Post. 
 
 The New Chapel at Tipperary. — This edifice is 
 hastening towards completion, and already the massive 
 framework of the high antique roof is being erected, 
 and the tower — of chiselled limestone — is fini.^hed 
 externally to the height of about forty feet. When 
 completed this tower will be one hundred and sixty 
 feet high, including the spire, which is to spring from 
 the distance of eighty-five feet from tbe ground. The 
 large lancet windows in the east and west gables are, 
 in the centre, thirty-four feet in length, and when 
 finislied, will be filled in with stained glass, the gift of 
 the most Rev. Dr. Leahy and Dr. Howley, P. P., 
 Tipperary. There is yet much of the interior and 
 decorative works to be carried out, and it is not expect- 
 ed to be completed before the early part of next year. 
 
 FRANCE. 
 
 Napoleon is training his soldiers to swim and fight 
 in the water. The Paris papers say that several reg- 
 iments of the Guard were exercised on Saturday morn- 
 ing, the 17th ult., in the Champ de Mars, under the 
 command of General Melinet. Duringthe manoeuvres, 
 200 of the 2nd regiment of Grenadiers, were ordered 
 to swim across the Seine and to discharge their mus- 
 kets as they did so, at an enemy supposed to be on the 
 opposite bank. The movement was well executed 
 and without any accident. 
 
 The Univers has an article on England and Eng- 
 lish affairs. Coming to Cherboug, it says : — ' But we 
 have just written a word which darkens every brow in 
 England Our neighbors are hard to be pleased. 
 After all they have done, permitted, and written for 
 the last six months, they arc not yet satisfied with 
 being invited to our festivities, as if we had nothing to 
 reproach them with. It is true that the Times, which 
 has most shown its hatred against France, sees a sort 
 of derision in the invitation sent to the Queen of Great 
 Britain to be present at the inauguration of the port of 
 Cherbourg, the completion of which it regards as a 
 direct menace against England. It almost delects a 
 declaration of war in this invitation. The Times has 
 forgotten the adage, ' Si vis pacem para helium.' The 
 best way for people to have peace with England is to 
 show that we do not fear her, and she has everything 
 to lose by war. The works of Cherbourg are, there- 
 fore, a gn.irantee of peace with Great Britain, When 
 the United States have to complain of Juhu Bull they 
 point to their cotton fields, .ind John Bull becomes 
 pliant and accimodating. So, when wc see .John Bull 
 assume airs a little too superb towards ourselves, we 
 will .show him Cherbourg, and this will be to tell him 
 that we wish to live on good terms with him. 
 
 Desciuption of CiiERBouno. — The exact position 
 of Cherbourg may be better described than by quot- 
 ing latitude and longitude from the Admiralty chart, 
 or its bearings by compass from Dover ; information 
 superfluous to the pilots and useless to everybody 
 else. Briefly, then, if the Isle of Wight could cut 
 loose from its moorings, and drift in nearly a straight 
 line across the Channel, it would be received in the 
 arms of two capes which terminate the great penin- 
 sula of the coast of Normandy. Into the bay be- 
 tween these points the tight little island would near- 
 ly fit and fill up the hollow. In the deepest recess 
 of this bay, and at the centre of its shore, lies the 
 town of Cherboutg. It is nearly equidistant fronf 
 Plymouth, Weymouth and Portsmouth ; those places 
 would be cut by three lines radiating from Cher- 
 bourg like the sticks of a fan. The illustration is 
 not strictly scientific, and might be fatal to a can- 
 didate in a competitive examination, but it is suf- 
 ficient for all practical purposes. Between the 
 French port and the English coast roll sixty or sev- 
 enty good miles of ocean ; and when you have in- 
 spected Cherbourg, you will not wish the Channel 
 one league less in breadth. The town itself, it need 
 scarcely be said, is not the place — it is the least im- 
 portant part of it ; the real Cherbourg consists of 
 the harbor, the military port, the breakwater and 
 the fortifications. Cherbourg would be nearly all 
 it is if the town did not exist. The immense works 
 are not intended for its defence only ; its little ex- 
 port and coasting trade do not require those moles, 
 piers, quays and armed towers whose foundations 
 are driven into the deep. The works front the 
 town, and flank it on each side, and rise behind it. 
 All that the art of the military engineer can do to 
 give strength to the natural position has been done ; 
 the position has called the works into existence, and 
 the works are the place ; the town is only an acci- 
 dent, not an essential part of it. Civil Cherbourg, 
 or the ville, as distinct from the military port, is 
 very provincial ; it has not the commercial physi- 
 ognomy of Havre, nor the watering-place aspect of 
 Boulogne and Dieppe ; its proximity to England has 
 not produced any connection extensive enough to 
 color its life with their insular peculiarities. Rela- 
 tively, Paris is more visibly and audibly Anglicised; 
 the English language and Alsopp's ale have invaded 
 the Boulevards from the Madeleine to the Bastile ; 
 but the beer and speech of Cherbourg are still na- 
 tive, the last struggling with all the old difficulties 
 of orthography, when it attempts to be English. 
 Cider, for instance, that Norman produce, is an- 
 nounced to the puzzled Briton by the proprietor of 
 a ' vaults' for the sale thereof as ' cither.' The Eng- 
 lish invaded Cherbourg in the last century, but it is 
 evident they have not settled there. There is some 
 degree of pleasure in finding a French town that is 
 wholly French. The fashionable quarter of Paris 
 is fairly annexed and ' translated.' 
 
 The Correspondentia Autografa, a semi-official organ 
 of Madrid, of the 29ih ult., says : — ' The English 
 Government, has just given saiisfaction to the com- 
 plaiuts of Spain on the subject of the insulting conduct 
 of the commander of the English cruiser Buzzard, 
 who visited vessels in the waters of Cuba. The Eng- 
 lish Government, which on the first news of what had 
 taken place, hastened to declare throuf,'h its representa- 
 tive, that it disapproved in the most formal manner 
 the conduct of its cruiser, has just confirmed in writ- 
 ing that declaration, and in a manner the most satis- 
 tory to Spain. As if nothing should bo wanting for 
 the satisfaction of our national dignity in this affair 
 the Minister of Foreigu Affairs of the United States 
 has addressed to General Dodge, the American Minis- 
 ter in Madrid, a note, in which he proclaims that the 
 conduct of the authorities of Cuba could not have been 
 more worthy or amicable than it was to the Govern- 
 ment of America This must tend to draw closer the 
 relations between that country and Spain.' 
 
 By the end of the present year, every regiment in 
 the Prussian army will be provided with rifle musketa 
 ot a new and improved description. 
 
40 
 
 IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 (From the Dublin Nutlou.) i 
 
 CHERBOURG. 
 
 It miiy ho that tlie word whicli tliis week hangs on 
 every Frcnchnmn's tonRno, and is whispered by many 
 a British lip, will jasiify the importance assi^rned by ' 
 the public opinion of tV-.e day, and realise the fears and 
 hopes, the overthrow and pride, with which it scorns i 
 to be aasociatid on cither side ol" the Straits ol Dover. 
 ' Cherbourg ' shouts the Briton as a call to arms j 
 against she summons of a foe ; ' Cherbourg ' shouts | 
 the Frank as the promise of victories which shall re- ; 
 Biorc the glory that was lost when the death tlirocs of, 
 L'Oricnt shook tlie echoes of the Nile. 
 < As a naval fortress, Cherbourg may now be placed 
 on a par with Oronstadt or Sebastapol, while ihe ditli- 
 culties which have been overcome in its construction 
 have been infinitely greater than engineers liad to eon- 
 tend with in either. Never in such a work has art 
 achieved so vast a triumph over natural obstacles. A 
 hnndrrd and fifty years since, Cherbourg was a wretch- 
 ed fishing village situated on the centre of a semicir- 
 cular bay. indenting the coast and fronting eastward, 
 whoso extreme headlands are those of I.a Hoguc, pro- 
 jecting on the North West, and another of less height 
 and magnitude to the East. The channel and bay 
 were then unprotected and utterly incapable of shelter- 
 ing a fleet at anchor. Fronting this semicircle an im- 
 mense breakwater, two miles and a half in length has 
 been constructed of a hundred thousand tons of gran- 
 ite, in thesea. This surprising work was commenced 
 several years ago, and was completed in 1853, at a 
 cost of £2,680,000. It is one hundred and fifty yards 
 in breadth, with forts in the centre and at either end, 
 togeteher with six batteries in the intervening spaces 
 whose guns sweep the ofiing in every direction. 
 Neither Cronstadt or Sebastopol, miracles of colossal 
 labor though they be, present anything to parallel this 
 gigantic work. But Cherbourg has an additional ad- 
 vantage over those fortresses, which is that its means 
 of offence are more concentrated. The number of 
 forts and redoubts protecting the docks, basins, and 
 harbor, and the landward fortifications on the hills are 
 so constructed as to level their fire on the narrow en- 
 trances at the end of !he mole and to sweep the chan- 
 nel beyond. In Seba.-topol, from the position of the 
 towns and hills, it was impossible to. erect such a num- 
 ber of batteries ranging on a single point, and hence 
 the Russians were obliged to sink a number of vessels 
 at the entrance of the harbor in order to prevent the 
 allied fleets liom entering. In Cherbourg, the en- 
 trances to the harbor are so narrow, and so thoroughly 
 commanded by the forts, breukwaler and hill fortifica- 
 tions that any fleet attempting to force a passage would 
 inevitably be shattered to atoms from the ovenvhelm- 
 ing torrent of shot concentrated on them from the nu- 
 merous fortifications and chains of forts which extend 
 to the extreme points of the port and rise in successive 
 elevations on the crescentic concave of the hills. It is 
 enough to say that a man-of-war entering the harbor 
 would be subjected to the raking fire of three thousand 
 guns of large calibre, and it is caleuluicd that even ilie 
 fire of Fort Imperial and Forte de Querqnevdle, with 
 the land batteries fronting them, would of themselves 
 be capable of sinking the largest vessel of war forcing 
 its way through the narrow channel, east and west, in 
 an instant of time. On the landside there are iwcnty- 
 ■four regular forts and redoubts, and other batteries 
 could be constructed in case of emergency. The 
 docks for buihling vessels, and nine basins which have 
 been cut out of the ^olid granite are scarcely less stu- 
 pendous as monuments of skill and enterprise. Th ■ 
 first was commenced in 1819, the last, called the Dock 
 of Napoleon III., and which has cost £640,000, now- 
 completed, is the subject of the forthcoming ioaugura- 
 tive ceremony Cherbourg has been the work of near- 
 ly a hundred years ; from the days of Louis XIV. to 
 Louis Napoleon its execution has been the dream of 
 French statesmen. Hitherto France has been in a 
 certain degree at the mercy of England, in&smuch as 
 she has never had a great naval fortification and har- 
 bor on the North. The first Napoleon, when he de- 
 termined to compete with England the supremacy of 
 
 the sea, formed the design of making Antwerp the 
 rival of Ix>ndon, and bad already carried out some of 
 his vast plans when ihu disastrous Uussian campaign 
 led to its abrogation. In the treaty of jieacc signed ul 
 Paris in 1814, England insisted on the destruction 
 of the doeks, arsenal, &c., of the Belgian port, con- 
 scious tliat the dismantlement would secure her com- 
 mercial monopoly and naval predominance. And 
 hero her jealous policy is negatived — here, at last, 
 a new Antwerp, infinitely stronger and more danger- 
 ously positioned, has arisen, possessing every formida- 
 ble element of defence and attack, and brought to per- 
 fection at an immense cost of time, talent, wealth, and 
 labor. In Cherbourg we see the entire I'oice of France 
 concentrated at one point, and that opposite the white 
 coast of her hereditary enemy — a gigantic achievement 
 successfully executed, at once a defiance of England 
 and of nature. 
 
 The projected visit of her gracious Majesty Victoria 
 to Cherbourg at the invitation of her gracious ally, the 
 hero of the 2d of December, promises to be,one of the 
 best practical jokes ever played off by one crowned 
 head upon another. Not content with having con- 
 structed a French Sebastopol oppoiiite unprotected 
 Plymouth, capable of containing the entire Imperial 
 fleet, and connecttd by lines of railroad with all the 
 great military stations of the country, the Emperor 
 mu>t have the little Queen over to inspect the enor- 
 mous work he has perfected for England's destruction. 
 Truly, it is only the French who can do such things ; 
 no other people have the address to execute an insult, 
 such as this in so polished a manner as tliey We fancy 
 the inextinguishable laughter which the occasion will 
 excite in Petersburg and Vienna, among rulers and 
 diplomatists in all parts of the world at the utter de- 
 gradation to which Britain is about to be suhjecttd . 
 Here is a cannon loaded and pointed at England's 
 heart, and here comes England's Queen (by invitation 
 which she dnre not refuse) to examine the pretty in- 
 strument, and have its destructive powers explained 
 to her with affectionate courtesy by the Imperial can- 
 noner who holds the match in his hand. The Moni- 
 teur de la Flotte, the official organ of the Emperor on 
 naval matters, expatiates on the Queen's visit with 
 grave humor. How fortunate it was, says this journal, 
 that the gigantic projects of Vauban, commenced by 
 Louis XIV., was not brought to perfection during the 
 long reign of that Monarch ! How pre-eminently 
 fortuitous is it that this immense naval fortification 
 and harbor in which the whole force of this country, 
 naval and military, can be concentrated in a few days, 
 has become a fait accompli under the peaceful reign of 
 the present Emperor. Of course, the occasion must 
 be a source of rejoicing and of congratulation to both 
 nations. Properly viewed, then, the docks, fleets, 
 fortresses, connected with all the barracks of France, 
 and its position directly opposite the English coast, 
 will be seen to constitute a new and indissoluble link 
 in the alliance. ' This is, no doubt, the reason,' says 
 the Moniteur, 'why the Emperor Napoleon HI., 
 whose tact in such matters is so delicate, has not hesi- 
 tated to invite Queen Victoria to add, by her presence, 
 an additional charm and prestige to the Rjoicings at 
 Cherbourg, and it is also the reason that the English 
 queen, with an equally exquisite tact, has accepted 
 with cordiality the invitation of the Emperor!' It is 
 in this style that the official organ of the Emperor 
 chafes his devoted ally. 
 
 The English press, however, cannot bring itself to 
 regard the festivities which are to be celebrated in the 
 midst of threatening fleets and fortifications, only sixty 
 miles distant from Plymouth, in the same cheerful and 
 amiable light as their French contemporary. Humi- 
 liated England sees that what is play to France just 
 now will yet be death to her. All her organs of opinion 
 are glum, depressed, and disheartened. Contemplating 
 Cherbourg to he completed, stored, armed, shielding 
 in an impregnable harbor a navy equal to that of Eng- 
 land, capable of embarking an army whose march on 
 London she has no power to oppose, even the Times 
 trembles. The Empire of Britain is the sea ; that, 
 once lost, she is notliing, and here is a rival, whose 
 
 fleet can at any inomont dispute her dominion. The 
 very extent of her possessions constitutes a new peril. 
 England's navy is of aocossiiy scattered over the world, 
 guarding her colonies and dependencies. That of 
 Franco, whose colonics arc insignificant in comparison, 
 is domesticated at Brest and Cherbourg. It is the 
 same with the armies of the respective countries. That 
 of England at its highest war footing comprises but a 
 fifth of the force at the command of her ally. At pre- 
 sent she has but twenty-two thousand men at home, 
 and the remainder are hopelessly engaged in the re- 
 conquest ol India. The French army concentrating in 
 France can be moved en masse on any point of the 
 Empire in two days. There are a sufficient number 
 of transports at Cherbourg and Hrest to carry a 
 bundled thousand men across the channel under the 
 protection of a swift and overwhelming steam fleet, 
 and this miltiary force could be projei'tcd on London 
 before the next day's sun had set. It is impossible to 
 deny those facts ; how to encounter them is the ques. 
 tion. To be sure Louis Napoleon's foreign policy has 
 been of a singularly wise and pacific character hitherto. 
 He has been content to make France respected abroad 
 while laying the demon of a Red Republicanism at 
 borne. His allinnce with England rendered him supe- 
 rior to the national enmities of the past, and was es- 
 sential to him during the Russian War. But if he has 
 not inherited the aggressive genius of his Uncle, he is 
 the heir at least of his ideas, many of which up to the 
 present have been executed with quiet irresistibility, and 
 perfect success — and it is certain that not a few of 
 those traditional projects already accomplished are 
 direct preparatory steps for the realization of the lead- 
 ing idea of the first Emperor — namely the destruction 
 of Englands maritime predominance. The comme'cial 
 classes of France would endure any strain of taxation 
 to sustain a war whose certain issue would aggrandize 
 their wealth and honor. Her army, tired of inactivity, 
 conscious of their atrengtband incapable of being much 
 longer controlled, would but too eagerly expiate the 
 disgrace of W.iterloo in the occupation of London. 
 Her navy, so long a secondary power in the empire, 
 would desire nothing better than to grapple under 
 equalised chances with the enemy who overcame their 
 inferiority at Trafalgar and render the nama of France 
 equally dominant by sea as by land. The preparations 
 are vast, their united effect irresistible, and whether 
 once strong ai.d arrogant England is to continue a 
 nation or a dependency, now really rests upon the dicta 
 of one man, whose fatalistic devotion to the triiilitions 
 of the First Emperor has been evidenced since the day 
 he founded his throne in the blood of Paris, by the ex- 
 ecution of vast series of projects, respecting whose 
 ultimate object there can be no dispute. He has put 
 the Suez Canal in progress, he has completed Cher- 
 bourg — thus menacing England in the North and East. 
 The last and greatest Napoleonic idea still remains un- 
 achieved. We are much mistaken if the current of 
 events are not now precipitating to a crisis which will 
 shake Europe with its thunders, and change for some 
 centuries to come the aspect of the world. 
 
 Death of a. fat Boy. — The Savannah News says : 
 ' One of our city physicians has handed us the follow- 
 ing extract from a letter written to him by a profes- 
 sional brother in the upper country, describing a singu- 
 lar case, we believe of rare occurrence in surgical prac- 
 tice : ' I must put in a slip, to give you an instance 
 of death from the rapid accumulation of fat. We had 
 ayonngman, residing 18 miles from this place, who 
 was one of the miracles of nature. At the age of 22 
 ho weighed !i65 pounds ; he continued gradually to 
 increase in flesh until he weighed over 600 pounds; he 
 was able to get about with tolerable ease to himself 
 and attended to his planting interest. Some weeks 
 ago he commenced increasing in flesh very rapidly, and 
 gained one and a half pounds per day. List week 
 he died suddenly in his chaise, I think from the accu- 
 mulation of fat around the heart. Three days prior to 
 his death he weighed 646 pounds ; and had he been 
 weighed the day of his death no doubt he would have 
 gone over 660 pounds. I have often seen him. and 
 visited his family a few months ago professionally.' 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 47 
 
 Salutations Among Diftkkknt Nations. — The 
 expressions used as salutations among liitt'crcnt nations 
 have, under their common aspect, something characte- 
 ristic and interesting even for the most casual observer. 
 In the East, some of these expressions savor, in a 
 more or less degree, of the Scripture, and of the serene 
 and patriarchal sentiment of the inhiiliitants. One 
 recognises the immobility of tliese pastoral warlike 
 people, standing aloof from all human progress. 
 Nearly all have a foundation in religious sentiments, 
 and express pence to those to whom they are addressed. 
 The salutation used by the Arab, ' Salem' or 'Shalum,' 
 means peace and is found in thewotd Jerusalem. The 
 Arab salutes his friend thus, ' May you have a happy 
 morning ;' ' May God grant you his favt rs ;' ' If God 
 wills it, yon are well.' The last expicssion plainly 
 betrays iheir fanaticism. Tlie Turks have a formula 
 which can only be used in a sunny clime — ' May your 
 shadow never be less.' An Englishman would never 
 think of wishing a fiiend a fine shadow. The climate 
 of Egypt is feverish, and perspiration is necessary to 
 health ; hence the Egyptian, meeting you, asks, 'How 
 do you perspire V ' Have you eaten ?' ' Is your 
 stomach in good order V asks the Chinaman, a touch- 
 ing solicitude, which can only be appreciated by a 
 nation of gourmands. ' Good cheer,' says the modern 
 Greek, in nearly the same language that the ancients 
 were wont to LTCet their friends. A charming saluta- 
 tion which could only have originated among the hap- 
 py, careless Greeks. The Romans, who were hereto- 
 fore robust, indefatigable and laborious, had energetic 
 salutations, expressing force and action : ' Salve,' 'Be 
 strong," 'Be healthy,' and 'Guydayis,' 'What do you?' 
 or 'What make you V The Genoesa of modern times 
 says 'Health and wealth,' which is very appropriate 
 for an active and commercial people. The Neapolitan 
 devoutly says^' Grow in sanctity ;' and the Picdmon- 
 tese, ' I am your servant.' The ' How stand yon V of 
 almost all Italy, forcibly indicates the nonchalance of 
 that sunny land. The Spaniard grave, haughty and 
 indifferent, wishes you 'Good morning,' to which we 
 respond, 'At your service, sir.' Another salutation 
 which the Spaniard uses, ' God be with you, Senor,' 
 shows a melange of respect for one's self and religious 
 sentiment. The ordmary salutations of the German is 
 ' Wiegents 1' — ' How goes it V and has a vagueness 
 partaking somewhat of the dreamy character of the 
 German. To bid one adieu he says ' Leben sie whol' 
 — 'Live quiet and happy.' This last plainly exhibits 
 his peaceful nature and love for the simple joys of life. 
 The travelling Hollander asks you ' Hoe waart'age ■■' 
 ' How do you go V The thoughtful, active Swede 
 demands, ' Of what do you think V whilst the Dane 
 more placid, uses the German expression, 'Liv-vei' — 
 ' Live well.' But the greeting of the Pole is best of 
 all. 'Are )0u happy ?' The EagUsh have the ' Good 
 bye,' a corruption of the wofds 'Good be with you,' and 
 some others, but that which exhibits best the character 
 of the English is, ' How do you do?' as the activity of 
 this people is shown in this demand where the do is 
 spoken twice. Nothing is more characteristic, more 
 lively, or more stirring than this. The ' Comment 
 Touz portez vouz V of the French is equally character- 
 istic. The Frenchman is more active than laborious, 
 more ardent, more ])assionate than thoughtful ; 
 hence the principle with him is not to do but 'o go - 
 to be lively, to show himself. There is something in 
 this expression ' Comment vouz portez vouz ? ' How 
 do you carry yourself?' which bespeaks at once his 
 frank manner and pleasant face. [French Paper. 
 
 A Late Parisian invention con.sists in making a 
 parasol so that it can be folded in the form of a fan, 
 instead of folding it in the common manner. A small 
 piece of brass is attached to the end of the shank of 
 the parasol, and on the two sides of this plate two 
 other plates are hinged. To these latter, the ribs of 
 one half of each plate of the parasol are secured by 
 joints which only allow them to move in the same 
 plane of the plate. The two sides of the parasol fold 
 together like a fan, and the shank or handle is joint- 
 ed, to fold between the two in the usual manner. 
 
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48 
 
 IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 COMPLIUKNT TO A WORTHT CiTIZEN. — W* 
 
 undeniUknil that a few of the friends of Cornelia!) 
 Dohorty, Esc|., who has recently returned from Europe, 
 rep^iired to his residence Tuesday evening, accompa- 
 nied by the Germania Band, to congraiulutc him on 
 his safe return home. Mr. Doheriy appeared, bade 
 them enter and partake of his hospitalities. The 
 inner man having been satisfied, the feast of reason 
 then commenced. An officer of the Columbian Asso- 
 ciation expressed the gratification of the party at Mr. 
 Dohcrty's safe return, and offered reneweil assurances 
 of future friendship and esteem. Mr Dolierty res- 
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 his friends. The procccdingji were creditable to all 
 concerned, and the reception honorable alike to Mr. 
 Doherty and his fair lady, who we understand had no 
 previous intimation of the matter. 
 
 The Gauvav Line of Steamships. — The steam- 
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 for St. Johns and Boston, is a sister ship to the Prince 
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 new ship, having been constracted ut the same time 
 and place and for the same purpose as the Prince 
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 ' fall in' with those composing the Galway and New 
 York line whenever her services arc requisite. She is 
 one of Mr. Lever's steamships. (New York Ilerald. 
 
 Priv.kte Tvition. — AVe invite the attention of 
 our city readers to the advertisement in another 
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 August 17th, 1858. aug28 
 
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 IRISH MISCELLANY 
 
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VOLUME 2— NUMBER 30.] BOSTON, SATURDAY, SEPTEMBER 4, 1858. [PRICE FOUR CENTS 
 
 NAPOLEON III. AT CHER]?OUK(i 
 
50 
 
 IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 A CHASE OFF THE WEST COAST OF 
 IRELAND. 
 
 The following nnitiintci) niul deeply interesting 
 description of a three dnys' ihusc, off the West coast of 
 Ireland, is taken from Cuptain Hall's •Fragments of 
 Voyages and Travels : — 
 
 On the 8th of November, I81C, when wo were lying 
 in that splendid harbor, the Cove of Cork, and quietly 
 refitting onr ship, an order came for us to proceed to- 
 sea instantly, on a cruise of a week oft" Capo Clear, in 
 qaest of an enemy's vessel, n-portcd lo have been seen 
 from some of the signal towers on the west coast. We 
 were in such a predicament, that it was impossible to 
 start before the next morning, though we worked all 
 night. Oft" we went at last ; but it was not till the 
 nth that wo reached oir appointed station. Towards 
 evening it fell dead calm, at which time there were 
 two strange sails in sight ; one of them a ship, which 
 wo ' calculatcil' was an American, from the whiteness 
 of his sails— the other ":i< a very suspicious, roguish- 
 looking brig ; but as both of them were hull down, 
 much of this was guess-work. 
 
 As the night fell, a light breeze sprung uj), and we 
 made all sail in the direction of the brig, though she 
 was no longer visible. In the coarse of the middle 
 watch, wo fortnnatelT got sight of her with our night- 
 glasses, and by two in the morning were near enough 
 to give her a shot. The brig was then standing on a 
 wind ; while we were coming down upon her right be- 
 fore it, or nearly so. The sound of onr bowchaser 
 could hardly have reached the vessel It was fired at, 
 before her helm was up ; and in the next iastant her 
 booms were rigged out, and her smdiling-sails, low 
 and aloft, seen dangling at the yard-arms. The most 
 crack ship in His Jliijesty's service, with every 
 thing prepared, could hardly have made sail more 
 smartly. 
 
 For onr parts, we could set nothing more, having 
 already spread every stitch of canvas ; but the yards 
 were trimmed afresh, the tacks hauled closer out, and 
 the haulyards sweated up till the yards aclually press- 
 ed against the sleeve-holes. The best helmsman on 
 board was placed at the wheel ; and the foot of the 
 foresail being drawn slightly up by the bunt slab-line, 
 he could just see the chase clear of the foremast, and 
 so keep her very nearly right a-liead. The two fore- 
 castle guns, long 9-pounders, were now brought to 
 bear on the brig ; but as we made quite sure of catch- 
 ing her, and did not wish needlessly to injure our 
 prize, or lo hurt her people, orders were given to Hre 
 at the sails, which, expanded as they now were be'"ore 
 ns, like the tail of a peacock in his fullest pride, offer- 
 ed a mark which could not well be missed. Neverthe- 
 less the little fellow would not heave to, for all wo 
 could do with our forecastle guns. At four o'clock, 
 therefore, we managed to get one of the long I8-pound- 
 ers on the main-deck to bear upon him from the 
 bridle-port. Still we could not stop him, though it 
 was now broad moonlight, and there was no longer 
 any tenderness about hurting his people, or injuring 
 his hull. The vessel, however, at which we were now 
 peppering away with round and grape-shot, as hard as 
 we could discharge them from three good smart guns, 
 was so low in the water, that she olTered, when seen 
 end out, scarcely any mark. How it happened that 
 none of her yards and masts came rattling down, and 
 that none of her sails flew away, under the influence 
 of our fire, was quite inexplicable. 
 
 The water still continued quite smooth, though the 
 breeze had freshened, till we went along at the rate of 
 six or seven knots. When the privateer got the wind, 
 which we had brought up with us, she almost kept her 
 own, and it became evident that she was one of that light 
 and airy description of vessels which have generally 
 an advantage over larger ships when there is but little 
 wind. We, therefore, observed, with much anxiety, 
 that about half-past four the breeze began, gradually, 
 to die away, after which the chase rather gained than 
 lost distance. Of course, the guns were now plied with 
 double care, and onr best marksmen were straining 
 their eyes, and exerting their utmost skill, confident of 
 hitting her, but all apparently to no purpose. One or 
 
 two of the ofTicers, in particular, who pi(iued themselves 
 on knowing how to level a gun on principles quite un- 
 erring, in vain tried their infallildo rules to bring 
 our persevering chase to acknowledge himself 
 caught. 
 
 By this time, of course, every man and boy in the 
 ship was on deck, whether it was his wutch or not ; 
 even the marine officer, the purser, and the doctor, 
 left their beds — a rare phenomenon. Every one was 
 giving his opinion to his neighbor ; some said the shot 
 went over, some that they fell short ; and ihe opinion 
 that she was a witch, or tlie Flying Dutchman, or some 
 other phantom, was current amongst the sailors, 
 whilst the marines were clicking their Hints, and pre- 
 paring to give our little gentleman a taste of the small 
 arms when within their reach. 
 
 Whilst things were in this anxious but very pleasur- 
 able stale, our foresail flapped slowly against the mast; 
 a sure indication that the breeze was lulling. The 
 cpiadraplc rows of reef points were next heard to rattle 
 along the topsail.s — sounds too well known to every 
 car as symptoms ot an approaching calm. The 
 studding-sails were still full, and so were the royals ; 
 but, hy ;ind by, even their light canvas refused to belly 
 out, so faint was the air which still carried us, hut very 
 gently, along the water, on the surface of which 
 not a ripple was now to be seen in any direction. As 
 the ship, however, still answered her helm, we kept 
 the gnns to bear on the chase without intermission, 
 arid with this degree of effect, that all her sails, both 
 low and aloft, were soon completely riddled, and some 
 of them were seen hanging in such alisolute rags, that 
 the slightest puff of wind must have blown them away 
 like so many cobwebs. By five o'clock it was almost 
 entirely calm, and we had the mortification to observe, 
 that the chase, whose perseverance had kept him thus 
 long out of our clutches, was putting in practice a ma- 
 noeuvre we could not imitate. He ilirust out his 
 sweeps, as they are called, hnjic oars requiring five or 
 six men to each. These when properly handled, by a 
 sufficiently numerous crew, in a small li:.ht vessel, 
 give her the heels of a large ship, when so ncarlv calm 
 a.s it now was with us. We were not going more than 
 a knot tlirough the water, if so much, which was barely 
 enough to give us steerage wa}'. 
 
 The Fr. nchman got out, I suppose, about fifteen or 
 twenty of these sweeps, and so vigorously were they 
 plied, that we could see by the moonlight, and still 
 more distinctly when the dawn appeared, that the foam 
 was made to fly in sheets at each stroke of thesegigan- 
 tic oars, which were worked together, by their looms 
 being united by a hawser stretching fore and aft. Our 
 chief anxiety now was to pitch a shot amongst his 
 sweeps, as one successful hit there, would have sent 
 half his crew spinning about the decks. But we were 
 not so fortunate ; and in less than an hour he was out 
 of shot, walking from us in a style which it was im- 
 possible not to admire, though our disappointment and 
 vexation were excessive. By raid-day he was at least 
 ten miles ahead of us ; and at two o'clock, we could 
 jnst see his upper sails above the horizon. Wo had 
 observed, during the morning, that our indefatigible 
 little chase, as soon as he had rowed himself from 
 under the relentless fire of our guns, was busily em- 
 ployed in bending a new suit of sails, fiihing his splin- 
 tem yards, shifting his top-gallant masts, and rigging 
 out fresh studding-sail booms — all wounded, more or 
 less, by our shot. As the severe labor of the sweeps 
 was never intermitud, we knew to a certainty that the 
 chase, though small, must be full of hands, and, con- 
 sequently, it was an ebject of great importance for us 
 to catch him. Of this, however, there now seemed 
 vcrj- little chance ; and many were the hearty maledic- 
 tions he received, tho«gh shared, it is true, by our own 
 crack marksmen, now quite crest-fallen, or diiven to 
 the poor excuse of declaring ihat the moonlight on the 
 water had deceived them as to the distance. 
 
 It really seemed as if every one on board had been 
 seized with a fever — nothing else was thought of, but 
 the French brig ; every glass, great aud small, was in 
 requisition, from the pocket spy-glass of the youngest 
 midshipman, to the forty inch focus of the captain. 
 
 Each telescope in its turn was hoisted to the cross-trees, 
 and pointed with a sort ot sickening eagerness towards 
 the lessening speck on the distant horizon. One might 
 also have thought, that the ship was planted in a grove 
 of tree*, in the height of spring time, so numerous were 
 the whistlers. This prai'tice of whistling for a wind is 
 one of our nautical superstitions, which, however 
 groundless and absuid, fastens insensibly on the 
 strongest-minded sailors at such times. Indeed, I have 
 seen many an anxious officer's mouth taking the 
 piping form, and have even heard some sounds escape 
 from lips which would have vehemently disclaimed 
 all belief in the efiicacy of sueh incantations. 
 
 But it would be about as wise a project to reason 
 with the gales themselves, as to attempt convincing 
 Jack that as the wind bloweth only when and where it 
 listeth, his invoking it can be of no sort of use one way 
 or the other. He will still whistle on, I have nu doubt 
 in all time to come, when he wants a breeze, in spite 
 of the march of intellect ; for, as long as the elements 
 remain the same, a sailor's life — manage it as you will; 
 cannot he materially altered. It must always be made 
 up of alter ate severe labor and complete indolence — 
 of the highest imaginable excitement, and of the most 
 perfect lassitude. If I were not anxious at this mo- 
 ment to get back to my chase, I think I could show 
 how these causes, acting upon such strange stuff as 
 sailors are made of leads to the formation of those 
 superstitious liabiis by which they have always been 
 characterised. 
 
 In the course of the afternoon, wc perceived from the 
 mast-head far astern, a dark line along the horizon, 
 which some of our most experienced hands pronounced 
 the first trace of a breeze coming up. In the course of 
 half an hour, this line had widened so much that it 
 could easily be perceived from the deck. Upon seeing 
 this, the wnistlcrs redoubled their efforts; and whither, 
 as they pretended, it was owing to their interest with 
 the clerk of the weather office, or whether the wind, if 
 left alone, would have come just as soon, I do not 
 venture to pronounce ; but certain it is, long before 
 sunset, our hearts were rejoiced by the sight of those 
 numerous flying patches of wind, scattered over the 
 calm surface of the sea, and called by seamen calspaws, 
 I presume from the stealthy, timorous manner in which 
 they seem to touch the water, and straightway vanish 
 again. By and by, the true wind, the ripple from which 
 had marked the horizon astern of us, and broken the 
 face of the mirror shining brightly every where else, 
 indicated its approach, by fanning out the skysailsand 
 other flying kites, generally supposed to be superfluous 
 but which, upon such occasions as this, do good ser- 
 vice, by catching the first breath of air, that seems 
 always to float far above the water. One by one the 
 sails were filled ; and as the ship gathered way, everj 
 person marked the glistening eye of the helmsman, 
 when he felt the spokes of the wheel pressing against 
 his hand, by the action of the water on the rudder. 
 The fire-engine had been carried into the tops, and, 
 where its long point could not reach, buckets of water 
 were drawn up and thrown on the sails, so that every 
 pore was filled, and the full effect of the wind was 
 exerted on the canvas. 
 
 The ship now began to speak as it is termed ; and 
 on looking over the gangway we could see a line of 
 small hissing bubbles, and yet desen-ing the name of 
 spray, but quite enough to prove to us that the breeze 
 was beginning to tell. It was near the middle of 
 November, but the day was as hot as if it had been 
 summer; and the wind, now freshening at every second, 
 blew coolly and gratefully upon us, giving assurance 
 that we should have no more calms to trouble us, what- 
 ever might be our other difficulties in catching 
 Monsieur Frenchman. 
 
 Of these difficulties, the greatest by farwas the keep- 
 ing sight of the brig after it became dark. We over- 
 hauled him, however, so fast, that we had great hopes 
 of getting near enough to be able to command him 
 with the night-glasses, in which case we made pretty 
 sure of our prize. The night-glass, it may be right to 
 explain, is a telescope of small power, increasing the 
 diameter of objects only about eight times. It has a 
 
IRISH MISCELLAI^Y. 
 
 51 
 
 largo field-glass; and, in order to save the interception 
 of light, has one lens fewer than usual, which omission 
 has ilie eftect of inverting the olijeet looked at. Bnt 
 this, though inconvenient, is of little consequence in 
 cases where the desideratum is merely to get sight of 
 tlie vessel, without seeking to make out the details. 
 
 Meanwhile, as wo spanked along, rapidly accelerat- 
 ing our pace, and rejoicing in the cracking of the ropes, 
 and bending of the lightest and loftiest spars — that 
 butterfly sort . of gear which a very little wind soon 
 brushes away — wa had the malicious satisfaction of 
 observing that the poor little privateer had not yet got 
 a mouthful ol the charming wind wliich, like the well- 
 known intoxicating gas, was by this time setting us 
 all a-skipping about the decks. The greater part of 
 the visible ocean was now under the influence of the 
 new-born breeze ; but, in the spot where the brig lay, 
 there occurred a belt or splash of clear white light, 
 within which the calm still lingered, with the privateer 
 sparkling in its centre. Just as the sun went down, 
 however, this spot was likewise melted into the rest, 
 and the brig, like a poor hare roused from her seat, 
 sprang off again. We wore soon near enough to see 
 her sweeps rigged in— to the delight, no doubt, of her 
 weary crew, whose apprehension of an English prison 
 had probably kept up their strength to a pitch rarely 
 equalled. 
 
 As the twilight — the brief twilight of winter — 
 loped away, a hundred pairs of eyes were almost 
 jumping out of their sockets in their attempts to pierce 
 the night ; while those who had glasses kept scrubbing 
 them without mercy, as if thry imagined more light 
 would be let into the tube the more they injured the 
 lenses. One person, and only one, continued, as he 
 asserted, to see the chase, faintly strung, like a bead, 
 on the horizon. I need not say that this sharp-sighted 
 gentleman was called to his post, and ordered on no 
 account to move his head, fatigue orno fatigue. There 
 happened to be a single star, directly over the spot to 
 which this fortunate youth was directing his view, 
 with as much anxiety as ever Galileo peered into the 
 heavens in search of a new planet. This fact being 
 announced, a dozen spy-glasses were seen wagging up 
 and down between this directing star and that part of 
 the horizon, now almost invisible, which la,y immediate- 
 ly below it. Many were the doubts expressed ot the 
 correctness of the first observation, and many were 
 the tormenting questions put to the observer as to 
 which way the brig was standing 1 what sail she had 
 set f whether we were drawing up with her or not ? as 
 if the poor youngster had been placed alongside the 
 vessel. These doubts and fears were put an end to, or 
 nearly so, by bidding the boy keep his eye fixed on 
 what he took to be the chase, and then, without ac- 
 quainting him with the change, altering the ship's 
 course for half a minute. This experiment had hardly 
 been commenced before he cried out, ' I have lost 
 sight of her this very moment ! I saw her but an 
 instant ago !' And when the ship's head was brought 
 back to the original course, he exclaimed, ' There she 
 is again, by jingo ! just to the right of the star.'. 
 
 This star served another useful purpose at the same 
 time. The man at the wheel could see it shining be- 
 tween the leech of the fore-top-sail and that of the top- 
 mast studding sail, and was thus enabled to steer the 
 ship with much greater steadiness than he could possi- 
 bly have done with the compass alone. Before mid- 
 night, as the breeze had freshened greatly, and we 
 were going at the rate of nine knots an hour, we had 
 drawn up so much with the privateer that every one 
 could see her with the naked eye, and the gunner with 
 his mates, and the marksmen who had lost their credit 
 on the preceding night, were fidgctting and fussing 
 about the guns, eager to be banging away again at the 
 prize, as they now began, rather prematurely, to call 
 her — little knowing what a dexterous, persevering, 
 and gallant little fellow they had to deal with, and how 
 much trouble be was yet to give us. 
 
 It was not till about two o'clock that we once more 
 came within gun-shot of him ; and as it had been 
 alleged that the guns were fired too quickly the night 
 before, and without sufficient care in pointing, the ut- 
 
 most attention was now paid to laying them properly ; 
 and the lanyard of the trigger never pulled, till the 
 per-son looking along the gun felt confident of his aim. 
 The brig, however, appeared to possess the satno witch- 
 like, invulnerable quality as ever ; for we could neither 
 strike her hull, so as to force her pcccavi, nor bring 
 down a yard, nor lop off a mast or a boom. It was 
 really a curious spectacle to see a little bit of a tiling 
 skimming awny before the wind, with such a huge 
 monster as the Endymion, tearing and pkinging after 
 her, like a voracious dolphin leaping from sea to sea 
 In pursuit of a flying fish. 
 
 In time this must have ended in the destruction of 
 the brig ; for as we gained upon her rapidly, some of 
 our shot must by and by have taken effect, and sent 
 her to the bottom. She was destined, however, to 
 enjoy a little longer existence. The proper plan, per- 
 haps, would have been to stand on, firing at her sails, 
 till we had reached within musket-shot, and then to 
 have knocked down the helmsman, and every one else 
 on her deck. This, however, was not our captain's 
 plan — or perhaps he became impatient — at all events 
 be gave orders for the whole starboard broadside to be 
 got ready ; and then, giving the ship a yaw, poured 
 the whole discharge, as he thought, right into his 
 wretched victim ! 
 
 Not a mortal on board the frigate expected ever to 
 see the poor brig again. What, then, was our surprise, 
 when the smoke blew swiftly past, to see the intrepid 
 little cocky gliding away more merrily than before. 
 As far as good discipline would allow, there was a 
 general murmur of applause at the Frenchman's 
 gallantry. In the first instant, however, this sound 
 was converted into their hearty laugh'er over the 
 frigate's decks, when, in answer to our thundering 
 broadside, a single small gun, a 6-pounder, was fired 
 from the brig's stern,as if in contempt of his formidable 
 antagonist's prowess. 
 
 Instead of gaining by our manoeuvre, we had lost 
 a good deal, — and in two ways. In the first place, by 
 yawing out of our course, we enabled the privateer to 
 gain several hundred yards upon us ; and secondly, 
 his funny little shot, which had excited so much mirth, 
 passed through the lee fore-top-sail yard-arm, about six 
 feet inside the boom iron. Had it struck on the wind- 
 ward side, where the yard was cracking and straialng 
 at a most furious rate, the greater part of the sails on 
 the fore-mast might have been taken in quicker than 
 we could have wished — for we were now going at the 
 rate of eleven and a half, with the wind on the quar- 
 ter. 
 
 Just as we made out where his first shot had struck 
 us, another cut through the weather main-top-gallant 
 sheet ; and so he went on, firing away briskly, till 
 most of our top-sails were fluttering with the holes 
 made in them. His own sails, I need scarcely add, 
 were by this time so completely torn up by our shot, 
 that we could see the sky through them all ; but still 
 he refused to heave to — and, by constantly firing his 
 single stern-chaser, was evidently resolved to lose no 
 possible chance of escape. Had one or two of his shot 
 struck either of our top-masts, I really believe he might 
 have got oft'. It therefore became absolutely necessary 
 that we should either demolish or capture him without 
 further loss of time. The choice we left to himself, as 
 will be seen. But such a spirited cruiser as this, was 
 an enemy worth subduing at any cost ; for there was 
 no calculaliuv the mischief a privateer so admirably 
 commanded, might have wrought in a convoy. There 
 was a degree of discretion, also, about this expert 
 privateer's-man, which was very remarkable, and 
 deserving of such favorat ourbands as wehad to spare, 
 lie took care to direct his stern-chaser so high, that 
 there was little chance of his shot striking any of our 
 people. Indeed, he evidently aimed solely at crippling 
 the masts— knowing right well, that it would answer 
 none of his ends to kill or wound any number of his 
 enemy's crew, while It might Irritate their captain to 
 show him less mercy at the last moment, which, as will 
 be seen, was fast approaching. 
 
 On we flew, right down upon our prey, like the enor- 
 mous rock-bird of the Arabian Knights. We had 
 
 ceased firing our bow-chasera, that the smoke might 
 not stand between us and the lesson we meant to read 
 to our resolute pupil, eo that tlicre was ' silence deep 
 as death' along our decks — and doubtless on his ; for 
 he likewise had intermitted his firing, and seemed pro- 
 pared to meet bis fate, and go to the bottom like a man. 
 It was possible, also, we thought, that he might only 
 be watching, oven in his last extremity, to take advan- 
 tage of any negliganee on our part, which should allow 
 him to hand suddenly across our bows, and, by g ittiog 
 on a wind, have a chance of escaping. This chance, 
 it is true, was very small ; for not one of his sails was 
 in a condition to stand such a breeze as was now blow- 
 ing, unless when running nearly before it. But we 
 had seen enough, during the two days we had been to- 
 gether, to apprehend that his activity was at least a 
 match for ours ; and as he had already shown that he 
 did not care a fig for shot, he might bend new sails as 
 fast as we could. 
 
 At all events, we were resolved to make him surren- 
 der, or run liim down : such was our duty, and that 
 the Frenchman knew right well. He waited, however, 
 udtil our flying jib-boom end was almost over his 
 taCFrail ; and that the narrow space between us was 
 filled with a confused, boiling heap of foam, partly 
 caused liy his bows, and partly by ours. Then, and 
 not till then, when he must have seen into our ports, 
 and along the decks, which were lighted up fore and aft, 
 he first gave signal of surrender. 
 
 The manner in which this was done by the captain 
 of the privateer was as spirited and as characteristic as 
 any part of the previous conduct. The night was very 
 dark ; but the shi|)S were so near to one another, thai 
 we could distinguish the tall figure of a mao mount 
 the weather main-rigging of the brig, where he stood 
 erect, with a lantern in his hand, held out at right 
 angles from his body. Had this light not been seen, 
 or its purpose not understood, or had it been delayed 
 for twenty seconds longer, the frigate must, almost in 
 spite of herself, have gone right over him, and the salvo 
 of a double-shotted broadside would have done 
 the last and fitting honors over the Frenchman's 
 grave. 
 
 Even as it was, it cost us some trouble to avoid run- 
 ning, him down ; for, although the helm was put over 
 immediately, our lee quarter, as the ship flew up in the 
 wind, almost grazed his weather gangway. In passing, 
 we ordered him to bring-to likewise. This he did as 
 soon as we gave him room ; though we were still close 
 enough to see the effect of such a manoeuvre at such a 
 moment. Every stitch of sail he hiid set was'blown, 
 in one moment, clean out of the bolt-ropes. His haul- 
 yards, tacks, and sheets had been all racked aloft, so 
 that everything not made of canvas, remained in its 
 place ; — the yards at the mast heads, and the booms 
 rigged out — while the empty leech and foot-ropes hung 
 down in festoons where, but a minute before, the tatter- 
 ed sails had been spread. 
 
 We fared, comparatively speaking, not much hettet ■ 
 for although, the Instant the course was altered, the 
 order was given to let fly the topsail-haulyards, and 
 every other necessary rope; and althoug the downhaul- 
 tacklcs, clewlines, and buntlines,were all ready manned 
 in expectation of this evolution, we succeeded with 
 great difficulty iu saving the fore or main-topsails • 
 but the top-gallantsails were blown to pieces. All the 
 flying kites went off in a crack, whisking far away to 
 leeward, like dried forest-leaves in autumn. 
 
 It may be supposed that the chase was now com- 
 pletely over, and that we had nothing further to do 
 than take possession of our prize. Not at all ! It was 
 found next to impossible to board the brig, or, at least 
 it seemed so dangerous, that our captain was unwilling 
 to hazard a boat and crew, till day-lightr came. The 
 privateer having no sail set to keep her steady, became 
 so unmanageable, that the sea made a clean breach 
 over all, rendering it out of the question to board her 
 on the weather side. Nor was she more easily ap- 
 proachable to lee-ward, where a tangled net-work of 
 broken spars, half-torn sails, shattered booms and 
 smacking ropes'-ends, formed such a line of ' chevaux 
 de frisc' from the cathead to the counter, that all 
 
52 
 
 IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 Bttempls to get near her on that side, were useless. 
 The gale increased before moniinj; to such a pitch, 
 that m there was still a doubt if any boat could lire, 
 the intention of boarding our prize was of course fur- 
 ther delajed. But we lock care lo keep close to her, 
 a little to windward, in order lo watch her proceedings 
 as narrowly as poshiblc. It did not escape ournotice, 
 in the meaniime, that our friend — (ho was no longer a 
 foe, though not yet our prisoner) — went on quietly; 
 even in tho height of the gale, shifting his wounded 
 yards, reeving new ropes, and bending (resh sails. 
 This caused us to redouble our vigilance during tho 
 moniing, and the event showed that we had good need 
 for such watchfulness. About three o' deck in the 
 afternoon, tho brig having fallen a little to leeward, 
 and a furious squall of wind and rain coming on at the 
 same moment, she suddenly bore up, and set oft" once 
 more right before the wind. At the height of the squall 
 we totally lost sight of our prize ; and such a hubbub 
 I hardly recollect to have heard in my life befoie. 
 
 ' Where is she ? — Who was looking out '. — Where 
 did yon sec her last ^' — and a hundred similar questions, 
 reproaches, scolds, and the whole of the ugly family of 
 oaths, were poured out in abundance ; some on the 
 privateer, whose adroitness had thus overreached our 
 Tigilance ; some upon those who, by their neglect, had 
 given him the opportunity ; and many imprecations 
 were uttered merely to express tho depth of anger and 
 disappointment at this stupid loss of a good thing, 
 which had cost them so much trouble to catch. All 
 this passed over in the first burst — sail was made at 
 once — the topsails, close reefed, were sheeted home 
 like lightning — and oft" we dashed into the thick of the 
 squall, in search of our lost treasure. At each mast- 
 head and at every yard-arm there was ])lantcd a look- 
 out man, while the forecastle hammock-netting was 
 filled with volunteer spy-glasses. For about a quarter 
 of an hour a dead silence reigned over the whole ship, 
 during which anxious interval every eye was strained 
 to the utmost ; for no one knew exactly whereto look. 
 There was, indeed, no certainty of our not actually run- 
 ning past the privateer, and it would not have surprised 
 tis much, when the squall cleared up, had we seen him 
 a mile or two to windward, far beyond our reach. 
 These fears were put an end to by the sharp-eyed 
 captain of the fore-top, who had perched himself on the 
 jib-boom end, calling out with a voice of the greatest 
 glee— 
 
 ' There he goes ! there he goes ! right a-head ! un- 
 der his topsails and foresail !' 
 
 And,' sure enough, there we saw him, springing 
 along from wave to wave, with his masts bending for- 
 wards like reeds, under the pressure of sail enough to 
 have laid him on his beam ends had he broached to. 
 In such tcmpestous weather a small vessel has no 
 chance whatever with a frigate ; indeed, we could 
 observe, that when the little brig fell between two high 
 seas, her foresail flapped to tho mast, fairly becalmed by 
 the wave behind her. 
 
 In a very few minutes we were again alongside, and, 
 doubtless, the Frenchman thought wc were at last 
 going to execute summary vengeance upon bira tor his 
 treachery, as we called it. Nothing daunted, however, 
 by the style in which we bore down upon him, the 
 gallant commander of his pretty little eggshell of a 
 vessel placed himself on the weather-quarter, and with 
 a speaking trumpet in his hand, indicated by gesti- 
 culations, a wish to be heard. This could not well be 
 refused ; and we steered as close as we could pass 
 along without bringing the two vessels in contact, or 
 risking the entanglement of the yards, when we rolled 
 towards one another. 
 
 ' I have been compelled to bear up,' he called out in 
 French, ' otherwise the brig must have gone to the 
 bottom. The sea broke over us in snch a way that I 
 have been obliged, as yon may perceive, to throw all 
 my guns, boats, and spars, overboard. We have now 
 several feet of water in the hold, in consequence of your 
 shot, which you may likewnse observe have nearly de- 
 stroyed our upper works. If, therefore, you oblige 
 me to heave to, I cannot keep the vessel afloat one 
 hour in such weather.' 
 
 ' Will you make no farther attcmps to escape t' ask- 
 ed the captain ef llic Endymion. 
 
 'Asyitlhave made none,' he replied firmly; 'I 
 struck to you already — 1 am your prize — and, feeling 
 as a man of honor, I do not consider myself at liberty 
 to escape, even if I had the power— 1 bore up when 
 the B(|uall came on, as a matter of necessity. If pou 
 will allow me to run before the wind with you, till the 
 weather moderates, you may take possession of the 
 brig when you please— if not, I must go to the bottom.' 
 Such was the substance of a conversation, very diffi- 
 cult to keep up across tho tempest, which was whistling 
 at a great rate. Although wc certainly distrusted our 
 companion, therefore, most grievously, wo sailed along 
 most lovingly together, as il we had been the best pos- 
 sible friends, for sixty or seventy miles ; during the 
 greater part of this interval the frigate had scarcely 
 any sail set at all ; and we sometimes expected to see 
 our little friend pop fairly under the water, and so 
 alluilc us by foundering, or escape by witchcraft. — by 
 the protection of which, in the opinion of the Jolmies, 
 he had been so long kept from us. 
 
 At eight o'clock iu the evening it began to moderate, 
 and by midnight we succeeded in getting a boat on 
 board of the prize, after a run of between three and four 
 hundred miles. Such is the scale of nautical sport ! 
 And where, I now beg to ask, is the fox hunting, or 
 the piracy, or anything else, more exciting than this 
 noble game ? 
 
 The brig proved to be tho Milan privateer, from St. 
 Malo, of 14 guns, and 80 men, many of whom were 
 unfortunately wounded by our shot, and several were 
 killed. She had been at sea eighteen days, but had 
 made no captures. The guns, as I have already men- 
 tioned, had been thrown overboard to lighten her. In 
 tho morning we stopped the leaks, exchanged the 
 piisoners for a prize crew, and put our heads towards 
 the Cove of Cork again, chuckling at our own success 
 in having nabbed the very vessel we were sent after. 
 But this part of tiie exploit, it seemed, we had no title 
 to claim merit for, since the Milan had not seen land, 
 nor been within many miles of it. This was a trifle, 
 however ; and we returned right merrily to 
 tell our long story of the three days' chase. 
 
 The captain's name was Lcpelletier — I have pleasure 
 in recording it — M. Pierre Lepelletier, of St. Malo ; 
 and wherever he goes, I will venture to say he can 
 meet no better or more resolute man than himself.' 
 
 At tho close of this interesting narrative. Captain 
 Hall gives the commentary of one of the ablest and 
 most judicious officers of the British navy, to whom he 
 had related it, and which concludes in these words : — 
 ' It is always useful to have good practical examples 
 of what perseverance and well directed zeal may accom- 
 plish, especially with very small means. Don't let us 
 forget the example of your little brig, for it is no matter 
 from whence instruction comes, from friend or foe, pro- 
 vided it be good.' 
 
 STORY OF MORGAN PRUSSIA. 
 
 George the Fourth, when Prince Regent, remarkable 
 for his dexterity in telling a story, was fond of collect- 
 ing instances of the whim and humor of Irish 
 peasantry. One of those was — the History of Morgan 
 Prussia. 
 
 Morgan, the gay and handsome son of a low Irish 
 farmer, tired of home, went to take the enhances of the 
 world, and seek his fortune. By what means he tia- 
 versed England, or made his way to France, is not 
 told. But he at length crossed France also, and, 
 probably without much knowledge or much care 
 whether he were moving to the north or the south pole, 
 found himself in the Prussian territory. This was in 
 tho days of the first Frederic, famous for his tall 
 regiment of guards, and for nothing else ; except his 
 being tho most dangerous compound of fool and mad- 
 man among the crowned heads of the Continent. He 
 had but one ambition, that of inspecting twice a-day a 
 regiment of a thousand grenadiers, not one of whom 
 was less than six feet and a-hnlf high. Morgan was 
 an Irish giant, and was instantly seized by the Prussian 
 recruiting sergeant, who forced him to volunteer into 
 
 the tall battalion. This turn of fate was totally out of 
 the Irishman's calculation; and the prospect of carrying 
 a musket (ill his dying day on the Potsdam parade, 
 after having made up his mind to live by bis wits and 
 rove the world, more than once tempted him to think 
 of leaving his musket and his honor behind him, and 
 fairly trying his chance for escape. But the attempt 
 was always found impracticable ; the frontier was too 
 closely watched, and Morgan still marched up and down 
 the Potsdam parade with a disconsolate heart ; when 
 one evening a Turkish recruit was brought in ; for 
 Frederic looked to nothing but the thews and sinews 
 of a man, and the Turk was full seven feet high. 
 
 ' Howmnch did his Majesty give for catching that 
 heathen!' said Morgan to his corporal. 'Four hundred 
 dollars,' was the answer. He burst out into an excla- 
 mation of astonishment at his waste of royal treasure 
 upon a Turk. ' Why, they cannot be got for less,' 
 replied the corporal. ' What a pity my five brothers 
 cannot hear of it !' said Morgan, ' I am a dwarf to any 
 one of them, and the sound of half the money would 
 bring them all over immediately ' As the discovery 
 of a tall recruit was the well known road to favoritism, 
 five were worth at least a pair of colors to the corporal; 
 the conversation was immediately carried to the ser- 
 geant, and from him through the gradation of officers 
 to the colonel, who took the first opportunity of men- 
 tioning it to the king. The colonel was instantly 
 ordered to question Morgan. But he at once lost all 
 memory on the subject. ' He had no brothers: he had 
 made the regiment his father and mother and relations, 
 and there he hoped to live and die.' But he was 
 urged still more strongly, and at length confessed, 
 that he had brothers, even above the regimental stan- 
 dard, but that nothing on earth could stir them from 
 their spades. 
 
 After some time, the king inquired for the five 
 recruits, and was indignant when he was told of the 
 impossibility of enlisting them. ' Send the fellow 
 himself,' he exclaimed, 'and let him bring them back.' 
 The order was given, but Morgan was broken hearted 
 ' at the idea of so long an absence from the regiment.' 
 He applied to the colonel to have the order revoked, 
 or at least given to some one else. But this was out 
 of the question, for Frederic's word was always irre- 
 vocable ; and Morgan, with a disconsolate face, pre- 
 pared to set cut upon the mission. But a new difficulty 
 struck him. How was he to make his brothers come, 
 unless he showed them the recruiting money ?' This 
 objection was at last obviated by the advance of a sum 
 equal to about three hundred pounds sterling, as a first 
 instalment for the purchase of his family. Like a loyal 
 grenadier, the Irishman was now ready to attempt 
 anything for his colonel or his king, and Morgan 
 began his journey. But, as he was stepping out of the 
 gates of Potsd.im, another difficulty occurred ; and he 
 returned to tell the colonel , that of all people existing, 
 the Irish were the most apt to doubt a traveller's story, 
 they being in the habit of a good deal of exercise in 
 that style themselves ; and that when he should go 
 back to his own country and tell them of ihe capital 
 treatment and sure promotion that a soldier met with 
 in the guards, the probability was, that they would 
 laugh in his face. As to the money ' there were some 
 who would not scruple to say that ho stole it, or tricked 
 some one out of it. But, undoubtedly, when they saw 
 him walking back only as a common soldier, he was 
 sure that they would not believe a syllable, let him say 
 what he would about rising in the ser^'ice.' 
 
 The objection was intelligible enough, and the 
 colonel represented it to Frederic, who, doubly out- 
 rageous at the delay, swore a grenadier oath, ordered 
 Morgan to be made a sous officer, or upper sergeant, 
 and, with a sword and epaulette, sent him instantly 
 across the Rhine to convince his five brothers of the 
 rapidity of Prussian promotion. Morgan flew to his 
 home in the county CaHow, delighted the firesides for 
 many a mile round with his having outwitted a king 
 and a whole battalion of grenadiers, laid out his recruit- 
 ing money on land, and became a man of estate at the 
 expense of the Prussian treasury. 
 
 One ceremony remains to be recorded. Once a 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 53 
 
 yo;ir. on tho anniversary of the day on which ho left 
 Potsiliim ami its giants behind, he climhod a hill within 
 a short distance of his house, tnrned himself in the 
 direction of Prussia, and with tho most contemptuons 
 gesture which ho could contrive, bade good-by to his 
 majesty ! Tlie ruse was long a great source of amuse- 
 ment, and its hero, lilie other heroes, bore through life 
 the name earned by his exploit, Morgan Prussia. 
 
 A Suroeon's Story. — Some three or four years 
 since, a friend of mine, whom I shall call Ormsby, re- 
 moved from his chambers in the University, and enter- 
 ed himself as a resident medical student in Stevens's 
 Hospital, Dublin. He was a very young man at that 
 time, an orphan, and he knew that he should have to 
 trust his own abilities and exertions alone, to win an 
 honorable name in the profession, of which he was an 
 enthusiastic member. He was of a thoughtful and 
 profound temper, tinged with a shade of melancholy 
 poesy ; it was his delight, like Manfred, to essay 
 
 * Philosophy and science, and the springs 
 Of wonder, and the wisdom of the world,' 
 
 and to seek for jthat secret analogy which exists between 
 the immaterial spirit and its fleshy encasement ; and 
 the returning midnight still found him in his solitary 
 apartment, bending over the folios of Albinus and 
 Haller, or patiently investigating the drawings of 
 Leonardo Da Vinci. His principal reason for residing 
 in the hospital, was to avail himself of the facility with 
 which immediate post mortem examinations could be 
 obtained ; as he was then engaged in preparing a 
 treatise in which he advanced an original theory, which, 
 if he could succeed in elucidating, (as he confidently 
 
 expected) would have proved anew era in the literature 
 of medicine. 
 
 The day on which the incident [ am going to relate 
 occurred, a brother student had dined with him in his 
 rooms, and the cloth had only been removed, when a 
 porter entered, and told Ormsby in a wliisper, that the 
 patient in the fever ward had just died. 'Very well, 
 bring him to the dead-room. Drnry, you will wait, I'll 
 show you a beautiful operation.' 
 
 ' No, I thank you, I have got quite enou jh of the 
 work to-day ; I have attended demonstration — chemi- 
 cal lecture — remained six hours in Park-street, and 
 egad I'll have no more otit — it is now after six o'clock, 
 and I must bo off — bon soir.' 
 
 ' Thoughtless fellow ! said Ormsby, as he took up 
 his candle, and proceeded to tho dissecting-house. To 
 an uninitiated stranger it would have appeared a horrid 
 and ghastly sight : gentle reader, I shall not describe 
 it : yet so much are we the slaves of habit, that the 
 young surgeon sat down to his revolting task as indif- 
 ferently as, reader, you would open your chess-board : 
 the room was lofty and extensive, badly lighted ; his 
 flickering taper scarcely revealing the ancient writings 
 that he was about to peruse. On the table before him 
 lay the subject, wrapped In a long sheet, his case of in- 
 struments resting on it ; he read on for some time in- 
 tently, unheeding the storm which raged without, and 
 threatened to blow in the casements against which the 
 rain beat in large drops ; and this, said he, looking on 
 the body, and pursuing the train of his thoughts, this 
 mass of lifelessness, coldness, and inaction, is all we 
 know of that alteration of our being, that mysterious 
 modification of our existence by which our vital in- 
 telligence is launched into the worlds beyond — a breath, 
 
 and wo are here — a breath, and wo are gone. Ho 
 raised his knife and opened a vein in his foot, a faint 
 shriek, and a start, which overset tho tabic an d ex- 
 tinguished (ho light, were tho effects of his temerity^— 
 though somewhat shocked-, Ormsby was not daunted — 
 and then turning to relight his taper, he heard through 
 the darkness a longjdrawn-sigh, and in weak and sickly 
 accents — ' Oh ! Doctor, I am a great deal better now,' 
 Ormsby said nothing, but returning deliberately, cover- 
 ed up the man thus wonderfully re-awakened from aa 
 almost fatal trance, carried bim back, and laid him in 
 bed. In a week after the patient was discharged from 
 the hospital cured. 
 
 Anecdote of Toirao Tom Sheridan. — One day 
 the junior Sheridan, who inherited a large portio n of 
 his father's wit and humor, dined with a party of hia 
 father's constituents, at the Swan, in Stafford ; among 
 the company were of course, a number of shoemakers 
 — one of the most eminent of them, being in the chair, 
 in the course of the afternoon called on Tom for a 
 sentiment. The call not being immediately attended 
 to, the president, in ratber an angry tone, repeated it; 
 Sheridan, who was entertaining his 'neighbors with a 
 story, appeared displeased with this second interrup- 
 tion, and desiring that a bumper might be filled, he 
 gave — ' May the Manufacture of Stafford be trampled 
 upon by all the world.' It is needless to say that this 
 sally, given with apparent warmth, restored him to 
 the favor of the president. 
 
 ' Well, Robert, how much did your pig weigh V 
 ' It didn't weigh as much as I expected ; and I al- 
 ways thought it wouldn't.' 
 
 Ballinac\rrig, or 'The Hamlet of the Rock,' is i 
 situated ia the barony of the east division of East Car- 
 berry, in the County Cork. The castle is a tall, square 
 pile, ninety-six feet in height, built, as its name im- ] 
 ports, on a rocky ledge which overhangs a lake of mod- 
 crate extent. Tlie hall is rudely vaulted, and occu- 
 pies neariy the entire extent of the cistle. The thick- 
 ness of the walls is very great, and intimates the great 
 necessity for strength which existed in the troublesome ' 
 times when the castle was founded. A narrow spiral 
 staircase ascends to the top of the building, leading, in 
 the course of its ascent, to three small apartments, and 
 at top to a large room, which was probably the princi- 
 pal apartment in the days when the castle was inhabit- j 
 ed, as it possesses two large windows, one looking over 
 the lake, and the other commanding a dreary view of 
 he great bog of Monenenrig, and the low, furzy h ills' 
 
 BALLINACARRIG CASTLE. 
 
 which form its northern boundary. These windows 
 are extremely curious. They exhibit the round Saxon 
 arch, and the stones which form their castings are rude- 
 ly adorned with various devices. On thcsouihcrn win- 
 dow appears the Virgin and Child. (>n the northern 
 window is the dale l.'jSr), with the initials R. M. C. C, 
 which tradition explains as implying the names of Ran- 
 dal M'Carthy, and his wife, Catherine Collins, the 
 founders of the castle. On this window arc also the 
 forms of a ladder, a cock, a hand, a heart pierced with 
 transverse swords, and some masonic emblems, roughly 
 cut in the stones which compose the arch. A long, low 
 stone scat extends the whole length of the apartment. 
 Immediately under the rock on wliich the castle is built, 
 flows a rapid, brawling stream, ted by the neighboring 
 lake, which is here constrained into temporary tran- 
 quillity by the milldam of Mr. John Neagle, whose 
 
 snug cottage, mills, and garden, form a veljj' pleosltlff 
 feature in the scene. On Sundays and holidays the 
 neighboring peasants exhibit their agility by walking 
 round the summit of tho castle ; an exploit which re= 
 quires no commcm share of nerve, and steadiness of 
 head ; as in addition to the height of the building it' 
 self, the rock at its base fall» almost pcrpcndiiularly 
 down to the stream, to the depth of thirty or forty feet. 
 In front of the castle stands a small, circular watcll 
 tower, completely isolated. It formerly guarded an 
 ann-lc of the wall, which enclosed the court of the build- 
 ing, and of which few vestiges now remain. This lit- 
 tle tower is overgrown with ivy, ferns and briony — like 
 the castle, it is roofless. Up to 1815, ("when the chapel 
 of Ballinacarrig was built) divine service was perform- 
 ed for a series of years in the hall of Ballinacarrig 
 ^Castle. 
 
54 
 
 HUSH MISCELLANY. 
 
 THE LAD OF GENIUS. 
 
 »Y TUB Al'TUOR OF 'THE rVSITAN'B ORAVB.' 
 
 [Concluded from our Isst.] 
 These were cirtn inly objections, and the bnrunct 
 ■aw the force of thom, niid he replied, »a}iiig : — 
 
 ' The best thing that you can do is to cunbult your 
 friends, and see if they can assist you." 
 
 Now Ferdinand llarwood, who had talents equal 
 to any thing, found himself at a loss to discover who 
 ■were his friends. Very likely he is not the first in 
 the world tlint has been so puzzled. For a few 
 
 er order of genius — thot is, epic poem and tragedy 
 genius. 
 
 ^\^u■n he had presented all hfs letters of introduc- 
 tion, he found that all to whom he liad been intro- 
 duced were unanimous in the opinion that the pres- 
 ent was the worst possible time for a young man to 
 come to London on a literary speculation. Hut 
 there was another point on which tiiey were also 
 unanimous, and that was a very important one — 
 they were all quite willing, and would be most hap- 
 py, to do anything to serve him. AVith this copsol- 
 
 wecks he was invited, now to this neighbor's, and i '"S thought, he took himself to lodgings, and set 
 now to that ; not no much, it appeared, out of com- [ "''""^ writing an epic poem. Wliut a very great 
 passion to his wants, as out of compliment to his j 8^"'"". "r "''at a very sniuU stoniacli, a man must 
 genius ; but this sort of thing cannot last long ; j '">^'<' ^^'l'" <""' ^''"''-' "»" fP>c po^m in less time than 
 people in the country prefer pudding to poetry, and | ^^ '^''" spend five guineas in victuals and drink and 
 Ihcy cannot think why people who have hands should | ''"^g'"S !— especially when one pound sixteen shil- 
 not support tiiemselves. So they one and all began i ''"S** "'"' sixpence have been deducted from that 
 to think and to say, that it was a pity that a young ■''"'" ^'^^ travelling expenses. liut with genius so 
 man of such ability as Ferdinand Hiirwood should 
 bury his talents iu a country village ; that London 
 was the only place in the world for a genius to 
 thrive in ; and thus they unanimously recommend- 
 ed him to try his fortune in London. Kind-hearted 
 people do not like to see their friends starve, and it 
 is rather expensive to feed them, so they endeavor 
 
 great, or with stomach so small, Ferdinand liar- 
 wood was not gifted; therefore, his money was all 
 gone before his epic poem was finished. That was a 
 pity. Still there was no need to be cast down, for 
 he could but call on those friends who would be most 
 happy to do any thing to serve him. He called ac- 
 cordingly ; but that very thing which would have 
 to get rid of them. The parish clerk knew nothing i I'"'" °^ 'he greatest immediate serviceto him, viz., a 
 of London, but the parson did, and was ready ! <i^nncT, none of them would give him ; he did not 
 enough to give Ferdinand letters of introduction to I "^'f them, to be sure — but it was their business to 
 
 some men of letters, by whose means he might be 
 brought into notice. The baronet was also willing 
 to give him five guineas towards paying his ex- 
 penses ; and the parish clerk was willing to give him 
 a copy of Cocker's Arithmetic, to teach him how to 
 make the best use of the five guineas. "With five 
 guineas. Cocker's Arithmetic, Thomson's Seasons, 
 and Young's Night Thoughts, and the blessings and 
 good wishes of the whole parish, who were proud 
 of his talents and glad to get rid of him, Ferdinand 
 journeyed to London, in search of a livelihood and 
 immortality. All the way along did he amuse him- 
 self with thoughts of what should be his first litera- 
 ry production — whether an epic poem, or a tragedy ; 
 anything lower he thought would be degrading. 
 At length, when he entered the great city, he was 
 
 a^k him : it was not, however, their pleasure. Gen- 
 erous people, I have fuqucntly had occasion to ob- 
 serve, like to do good in their own way — they ob- 
 ject to all kind of dictation ; so it was with Ferdin- 
 and Harwood's friends. They did not give him a 
 dinner, which, at best, would have served him but 
 a single day. They gave him good advice enough 
 to last him for many months ; they recommended 
 him to finish his poem as soon as he could, and, in 
 the mean time, perhaps, his friends, they said, would 
 afford him some temporary assistance. 
 
 'Alack! Alack!' said Ferdinand to himself, •! 
 wish my friends would tell me who my friends are !' 
 
 It happened, in the course of his multifarious 
 reading, that Ferdinand had somewhere seen it set 
 down in print that booksellers, are the best patrons 
 
 fullof poetry and covered with dust. Nine o'clock j °fg<^"'"s; so he went to a very re.-ipcctable book- 
 at night, in Fetter Lane, in the middle of March, is se'li^'i and, after waiting two hours and three quar- 
 not a very poetical season; nor are the sights, M^rs, was admitted to an audience. Ferdinand thought 
 sounds, and smells of the closer parts of a great ' ^^ '""1 never seen such a nice man in his life — so 
 metropolis, vastly conducive to inspiration. Ferdin- I plt'asant, so polite, such a pray-take-a-chair-ative 
 
 and could not help congratulating the Dryads, 
 Oreads, Nymphs, and Fauns, that they were not 
 under the necessity of putting up even for a single 
 
 tyle of address, that by a hop, skip, and jump ef- 
 fort of imagination, Ferdinand, with his mind's eye, 
 saw his potm already printed, and felt his mind's 
 
 night, at the 'WTiitc Horse, Fetter Lane — a very j fingess paddling among the sovereigns he was to re 
 good inn, no doubt, in its way, but far from being I ceive for the copyright. At the mention of an epic 
 
 a poetical object to the eye of an unsophisticated 
 villager. 
 
 It was the first concern of our genius to deliver 
 his letters of introduction, in which he supposed, of 
 course, that he was described as a genius of the first 
 order, and by means of which he expected to receive 
 a cordial and admiring welcome, lie was, there- 
 fore, not a little surprised to hear, from the very first 
 
 poem, the bookseller looked serious ; of course, it is 
 all right that he should look so — as an epic poem is 
 a serious matter. 
 
 ' What is the subject — sacred or profane ?' 
 'Sacred, by all means,' replied Ferdinand; 'I 
 would not for the world write any thing pro- 
 fane.' 
 
 ' Certainly not,' said the bookseller r I have a 
 
 person to whom he presented himself, that the great abhorrence of profanity. What is the title of 
 
 present «1ls the very worst time forany one to come 
 to London with a view to literary success. 
 
 'Which do you think would be the best time?' 
 said Ferdinand, with much seriousness and sincerity, 
 and with a real de^re of information. 
 
 ■ You are disposed to be waggish,' said his new 
 friend. 
 
 your poem ? 
 
 ' The Leviticud : I am doing the whole book of 
 Leviticus into blank verse. It appears to me to be 
 a work that is very much wanted, it being almost 
 the only part of the sacred scriptures that has not 
 been versified.' 
 
 The bookseller looked more serious, and said, 'I 
 
 There, however, the worthy gentleman was in am afraid. Sir, that I cannot flatter you with any 
 error, for Ferdinand llarwood was as little inclined great hopes of success, for poetry is not in much re- 
 to waggery as any man living. He was a perfect quest, and especially sacred poetry, and more es- 
 realist ; he thought that every thing was what it peeially .still, epic poetrj-.' 
 
 was ; he knew that people did laugh sometimes, but ' ' Now that is passing strange !' said Ferdinand, 
 he could not tell why they laughed, nor did he know I ' Poetry 'not in request ! Pardon me. Sir, you ought 
 what they laughed at ; besides, he was a genius, and of course to know your own business ; but I can as- 
 tlicre is a certain solemnity in genius incompatible I sure you that poetry is very much in request. Is 
 with laughter and waggery, especially in the high- I not Milton's Paradise Lost in every library ? and 
 
 have not I, at this very moment, the tenth edition of 
 Y'oung's Night Thoughts in my pocket ?' 
 
 'All that niay be true,' replied the bookseller, 
 relaxing from his seriousness into an involuntary 
 smile! ' but modern pocirv-, unless of very decided 
 excellence, meets with no encouragement.' 
 
 On hearing this, Ferdinand's hopes were raised to 
 the acme of full assurance, for he was satisfied that 
 his poetry was decidedly excellent. Exultingly, 
 therefore, he replied, saying : — 
 
 • Well, sir, if that be all, I can toon satisfy you, 
 for I wrote some verses on the river Dee, which 
 runs by the village where I was bom, and I showed 
 them to Sir Arthur Uradley, who said he had never 
 read anything so tine in his life, and that they were 
 equal to anything in Thomson's Seasons ! Have you 
 read Thomson's Seasons, Sir ?' 
 
 Then drawing his MS. from his pocket, he pre- 
 sented it to the bookseller, saying : — 
 
 ' Just have the goodness to read two or three hun- 
 dred lines of the poem, and I will venture to say 
 that you will pronounce them to be equal to any 
 thing in Thomson's Seasons. I am in no hurry — I 
 can stay while you read them, or, if you prefer it, 
 I will read them to you.' 
 
 The bookseller chose neither ; but speedily, though 
 not discourteously, dismissed the genius from the 
 audience, hopeless of allnegoeiation. 
 
 ' Bless me,' said Ferdinand, to himself, as soon as 
 he was alone, 'what a strange plate this world is! 
 I never saw any thing like it in the course of my 
 life ! The man would not even read my poetry, 
 and I was not going to make any charge for reading 
 it.' 
 
 There are more booksellers than one in London, 
 so Ferdinand tried another — another — and another ; 
 they were all on the same story. They had evident- 
 ly entered into a conspiracy against him ; but who 
 was at the bottom of the conspiracy it was imjiossi- 
 ble for him to say or conjecture. It was a manifest 
 absurdity, bethought, that all the world should ad- 
 mire Thomson's Seasons, and yet that nobody should 
 admire him whom Sir Arthur Eradlcy had pro- 
 nounced to be equal to Thomson. 
 
 It now occurred to him that about this time Sir 
 Arthur Bradley himself might be in London. He 
 knew that the baronet had a house in town, but he 
 did not know where, so he inquired of one or two 
 people in Holborn, and they could not tell him ; but, 
 finding a court guide on a bookstall, the secret of 
 Sir Arthun's town residence was revealed to him ; 
 and, having ascertained that it was at the west end 
 of the town, he prepared to seek it out, and, for a 
 while he was puzzled to find the west end of the 
 town, for it appeared to him that the town had no 
 end. However, as they who seek till they find will 
 not lose their labor, so it happened with Ferdinand 
 Harwood, who did at last discover the residence of 
 his patron, far away, indeed, from any end of the 
 town, for it was in the midst of many squares and 
 streets. It seemed to the unfortunate genius that 
 he was destined to meet with'wondcrs and parado.x- 
 es wherever he went, for the servant who opened the 
 door to him told him that Sir Arthur Bradley could 
 not be seen. Is he in«sible ? thought Ferdinand, 
 and so thinking, he looked astonishment.* 
 
 ' Indeed, Mr. Harwood,' said the servant, ' my 
 master is in such a state that he can see no one !' 
 
 ' Is he blind ?' said Ferdinand. 
 
 'No,' replied the porter. 
 
 ' Is he deaf?' 
 
 'No,' said the porter. 
 
 ' Then I wish you would tell him that I am starr- 
 ing !' 
 
 Now the domestics of Sir Arthur Bradley bad not 
 any idea of starving; therefore the porter looked 
 upon Ferdinand Harwood with much astonishment, 
 and seemed for a moment to regard the starving 
 man as a great natural curiosity ; but when the fir.st 
 shock of his wonder was over, he felt compassion 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 55 
 
 for the youth ; for, though he did not know what 
 starving was, so far as lumself was concerned, yet 
 he knew it was something greatly to be dreaded, 
 and as lie found it a serious inconvenience even to 
 wait for l\is dinner, of course he concluded that it 
 must be a far greater inconvenience to have no din- 
 ner to wait for. The domestic, notwithstanding the 
 invisibility of Sir Arthur Bradley, invited Ferdinand 
 into the house, and into the housekeeper's room ; 
 and, when the servants heard that he was starWng, 
 they all lifted up their hands, and eyes, and voices, 
 saying, ' Law bless us ! what, the young man what 
 used to make such nice poetry !' They were incredu- 
 lous, forgetting that poetry is not good to eat. But, 
 when the housekeeper brought him out some cold 
 beef and pickled walnuts, they all saw that he had 
 a marvellously good appetite. While he was eating 
 they kept asking him many questions, to few of 
 which he had leisure to make reply. But at last he 
 finished, and when he had satisfied his hunger, he 
 was desirous of satisfying his curiosity ; he made en- 
 quiries into the cau se of Sir Arthur's invisibility, 
 and he heard that the baronet was in great trouble 
 because his daughter had married against his con- 
 sent. 
 
 ' I should not care who was married or who was 
 single,' said Ferdinand to himself, 'if I had such 
 nice cold beef and pickled walnuts to eat every 
 day of my life. Then, addressing himself to his in- 
 . forraant, he said, ' and I pray you, what is the great 
 evil of this marriage that the baronet takes it so 
 much to heart ?' 
 
 ' Sir Arthur is angry that his daughter has not 
 only married without his consent, but that she has 
 degraded herself by a low connexion,' was the an- 
 swer. 
 
 A\'lien Ferdinand Harwood heard this he supposed 
 that she might have married the parish clerk or the 
 village blacksmith ; but when he heard the degra- 
 dation went no farther than to a marriage with a 
 merchant in the city, he was rather more surprised 
 at the fastidiousness of Sir Arthur Bradley than at 
 the humble taste of his daughter, and he replied, ' it 
 is well it is no worse.' 
 
 ' But he is of such low origin,' said the cook. 
 
 'Not lower than Adam, who was formed out of 
 the dust of the ground,' replied Ferdinand. 
 
 ' Sir Arthur swears,' said the butler, ' that he will 
 not leave her a single shilling ; and that if any of the 
 servants carry any letter or message to her, they 
 shall lose their places ; and that if her brother 
 keeps up any acquaintance with her, he shall be dis- 
 inherited.' 
 
 ' Bless me, what a Turk !' exclaimed Ferdinand ; 
 ' I could not have thought that, when he admired 
 my poetry, and said it was equal to Thomson's 
 Seasons, he was capable of being in such a towering 
 passion.' 
 
 While he was speaking, a message came from Mr. 
 Bradley, the son of Sir Arthur, to desire that Mr. 
 Harwood would favor him with his company in the 
 library for a few minutes. Ferdinand obeyed the 
 summons, and the son of the angry baronet said : — 
 
 ' Mr. Harwood, understanding that you were in 
 the house, I took the liberty to send for you to ask 
 will you have the goodness to take a small parcel 
 into the city for me.' 
 
 ' Sir,' replied Ferdinand, whose spirits and grati- 
 tude were amply excited by the opportune refresh- 
 ment of the baronet's pantry, ' I would wolk to tlie 
 world's end to serve any individual of the house of 
 Bradley.' 
 
 ' I don't wish you to walk so far as that,' replied 
 Mr. Bradley ; ' but if you will deliver this packet 
 to its address, you will oblige me. You can keep a 
 secret r' 
 
 ' Ay, that I can,' said Ferdinand, and he was 
 about to tell Mr. Bradley how many secrets he had 
 kept by way of proof and illustration, but the young 
 gentleman had not time nor inclination to hear them, 
 
 and he cut the matter short, by saying : " You 
 have heard from the servants of my sister's marriage, 
 and of my father's disapprobation of it. This parcel 
 is addressed to her, and I must beg that you will de- 
 liver it into her hands, and bring me, at your ear- 
 liest convenience, an answer.' 
 
 Mr. Bradley, with the parcel, put also a piece of 
 money into the messenger's hand, arid the messenger 
 put the money into his pocket without looking at it ; 
 but he made as much haste out of the house as he 
 possibly could, in order that he might ascertain 
 whether it was a shilling or a sovereign. He would 
 have been glad of a shilling, but of a sovereign glad- 
 der still — and it was a sovereign. So he walked 
 along light-heartedly, singing jubilate, and for a mo- 
 ment he forgot the Leviticud. Then he said to him- 
 self, ' I shall get more by going errands than by 
 writing epic poems.' 
 
 When he arrived at the merchont's house, which 
 was quite as handsome and well furnished as Sir 
 Arthur Bradley's, and saw the baronet's married 
 daughter, the lady very readily recognised him as 
 the Mr. Harwood who was distinguished for his 
 poetical talents. 
 
 ' So you have come to London to exercise your 
 poetical talents,' said Mrs. Marshall ; ' I hope you 
 find it answer.' 
 
 ' I cannot say much for the matter at present,' re- 
 plied Ferdinand. 
 
 ' I believe that poetry is not done at a premium 
 now,' said the merchant, who happened to be pres- 
 ent at the colloquy. 
 
 ' Ah, sir,' said Ferdinand, not exactly apprehend- 
 ing the mereantile metaphor, but perfectly under- 
 standing the word premium, ' I only wish that a 
 premium were offered for poetry — I think I should 
 win it. But the publishers are in a conspiracy 
 against me and will not let the public judge of my 
 talents.' 
 
 ' Then if I were in your plact I would conspire 
 against the publishers, and- not let them have any 
 more manuscripts.' 
 
 ' But, Sir, how can I live without it ?' 
 
 ' How do you live with it ?' 
 
 'Not at all,' replied Ferdinand ; but what else 
 can I do r I have no skill in fanning, and no cap- 
 ital to stock a farm withal." 
 
 ' Then of course, you cannot be a farmer. Can 
 you write ?' 
 
 ' Admirably.' 
 
 ' Do you understand accounts ?' 
 
 ' Perfectly.' 
 
 ' Will you try a seat in my counting house ?' 
 
 ' Most thankfully.' 
 
 Twenty years after this Sir Arthur Bradley was 
 reconciled to his daughter ; and Mr. Marshall re- 
 tired from business, and Ferdinand Harwood suc- 
 ceeded him, rejoicing that he had not succeeded as a 
 poet. 
 
 Mind and Body. — The necessary connection of 
 the condition of the body and of the mind, is matter 
 of universal and constant experience. Mental influ- 
 ences affect the physical health ; and the state of the 
 body on the other hand, exerts a powerful effect on the 
 mind. In treating of health, it is therefore necessary 
 to consider the management of the thoughts and pas- 
 sions. In some diseases, physical and mental disor- 
 ders are so complicated and blended together, that it 
 is impossible to tell in which the derangement had' its 
 origin. Even when the disturliance docs not go to 
 the length of disease, the mutual influence of the mind 
 and body may play an important part in the question 
 of health. The body is constantly acted on through 
 the mind, and this way of reaching and influencing 
 the corjiorcal health deserves more attention than it 
 usually receives. 
 
 A HELPING word to one in trouble is often like a 
 switch on a railroad track — but one inch between 
 wreck and smooth-rolling prosperity. 
 
 A Haiidy Admiral. — In the reign of Queen Anne, 
 Captain Hardy, whose ship was stationed at Legara 
 bay, received intelligence of the arrival of seventeen 
 Spanish galleons, under a convoy of the like num- 
 ber of men-of-war, in the harbor of Figo, and with- 
 out any directions for so doing, sailed to Sir George 
 Cooke, the then commander-in-chief in the Medi- 
 terranean, and gave him such advice as induced him 
 to make the best of his way to Figo, where he took 
 all the before mentioned ships. Sir George was 
 sensible of the importance of the intelligence, and 
 the successful expedition of the captain. But when 
 the victory was obtained, and the proper advantage 
 made of it, he summoned Captain H. on board, and 
 with a stem countenance, said, ' you have done an 
 important service to your country, and to the 
 Queen ; you have added to its honor, and enriched 
 it by your diligence. But do you not know, sir, 
 that you are liable this moment to be shot for quit- 
 ting your station without orders ?' ' He is unworthy 
 to hold a commission in her Majesty's service,' re- 
 plied the captain, ' who holds his life as aught, when 
 the glory and interests of his Queen and country 
 require him to hazard it.' On this heroic answer, 
 he was despatched home with the first news of the 
 victory, and letters of recommendation to the Queen, 
 who instantly knighted him and afterwards made 
 him a rear-admiral. 
 
 Expediency of Attending to the Eye-Lashes. 
 It is no less strange than true, that European beau- 
 ties are quite inattentive to the growth of their eye- 
 lashes ; though in Circassia, Georgia, Persia, and 
 Hindostan, it is one of the first objects of a mother's 
 care to promote the growth of her children's eye- 
 lashes. Hair left to itself seldom grows long, but 
 either splits at the top into two or more forks, or be- 
 comes smaller and smaller until it ends in a fine gos- 
 samer point. When it does so, it never grows longer, 
 but remains stationary. The Circassian method of 
 treating the eye-lashes is founded on this principle : 
 the careful mother removes, with a pair of scissors, 
 the forked and gossamer like points (not more) of the 
 eye-lashes, and every time this is done their growth is 
 renewed, and they become long, close, finely curved, 
 and of a silky gloss. This operation of clipping may 
 be repeated every month or six weeks. The eye-lash- 
 es of inftnts and children are best tipped when they 
 are asleep. Ladies may, with a little care, do the of- 
 fice for themselves. This secret must be invaluable to 
 those whose cye-Iashes have been thinned and dwaifed, 
 as often happens by inflammation of the eyes. 
 
 How TO Water Plants. — As a rule, water should 
 never be given, until the further withholding of it 
 would be detrimental to the plants. Habitual water- 
 ing does, in the majority of cases, more harm than 
 good. Plants left to battle with drought, send their 
 roots down deep in search of moisture, and when rain 
 does come, they benefit more by it than those that 
 have regular waterings all along. If the ground is 
 dug deeply, and kept in good heart, plants that have 
 once got established will bear drought for any length 
 of time, but things lately planted, and that have not 
 had time to 'get hold,' must be kept supplied or their 
 beauty may vanish for half the season. Succulent 
 vegetables, too, which ought to bo growing quick, 
 must have abundance, and of course, plants in pots 
 must, of necessity, have sufficient. Tliero arc two 
 important points to be attended to in giving water, 
 one is to expose the water to the sun before using it, 
 to render it soft and warm, and the other is to give a 
 thorough soaking at once, sufficient to keep the ground 
 moist a week. Supposing the supply to be limited, 
 but regular, the best way of economising both water 
 and time is to take the garden, piece by piece, water- 
 ing each piece thoroughly every evening, and thep 
 beginning again as at first. [Floral World and Gar- 
 den Guide. 
 
 He who sorveth none but himself, is a slave to 
 1 foel. 
 
56 
 
 IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 There are two entrances to Cherbourg, one at the 
 cast and the other at the west end of the strongly 
 fortified mole. At the eastern extremity the chan- 
 nel is narrowed by the island of I'elee, upon which 
 is erected a large fort, tailed Fort Imperial, which, 
 with the corresponding fort on the eastern side of 
 the mole, commands the narrow passage, and its guns 
 cross tire with other forts to be afterwards mention- 
 ed. The western channel is equally protected by an 
 immense fort, called Vort de (iuerqueville, on the 
 main land, and which is immediately opposite the 
 fort at the west end of the cmb.inkmcnt. The depth 
 of water in these channels is marked on the French 
 Admiralty charts at from twelve to thirteerf metres 
 (thirty-nine to forty-two feet ;) but these immense 
 forts one would consider sufficient to sink in an in- 
 stant any ship which would attempt to effect an en- 
 trance. They form, however, but a fraction of the 
 fortifications with which the place abounds, A ship 
 entering the outer basin by the western channel 
 would not only receive the concentrated fire of the 
 forts on each side of the channel ; but there is an- 
 other huge fort erected upon a rock, dry at low- 
 water, called Fort Cavaignac, which is between, 
 but a little in the rear of, the west end of the mole 
 and the great Querqueville Fort. Having run the 
 gauntlet of these works, ships would find them- 
 selves in a tolerably capacious basin, where, from 
 every point of the compass, in whatever position 
 they might lie, they would be riddled by the cross 
 fire of the batteries and forts, which swarm in every 
 direction, and which help to swell the aggregate of 
 3000 guns of large calibre, which are mounted in 
 the works in different parts of the apparently im- 
 pregnable position. Along the face of the docks 
 there are numerous small forts and batteries which 
 command not only a portion of the entrance by the 
 mole, but assisted by other batteries on the shore, 
 ■would ' sink, bum, destroy ' anything which had 
 passed the ordeal of the outer forts. The docks are 
 formed of a large basin communicating with one to 
 the north, and this again with a large one to the 
 west ; there are three smaller basins beyond these at 
 the north, and there are three at the southern 
 part of the excavation, into which an entrance 
 is also obtained through the central opening and 
 basin. There are nine basins in all, and it is the 
 completion of the inner floating dock, called Dock 
 
 VIEW OF CHERBOtTEG AND FORT ROTJLE. 
 
 Napoleon III., which forms the subject of the unpar- 
 alleled celebration. At the entrance of the dock is 
 a gigantic fort, built on what is marked on the 
 French Admiraltj' charts as Basse dn Chenal. It is 
 a rock dry at low water, and upon this has been 
 constructed the huge work called Fort des Flaniands. 
 The fire of Fort dcs Flamands crosses with that of 
 Fort Imperial at the eastern end of the mole, and it 
 would appear absolutely impossible for any vessel 
 to pass the concentrated fire of these mounted forts. 
 To make security doubly sure, this Fort des 
 Flamands is supported by a redoubt called Tour la 
 Ville. Approaching nearer the entrance of the dock 
 there is Fort du Galet; still nearer. Fort du Long- 
 let and Fort du Hommet. We now come to the 
 other fortifications which surround Cherbourg on 
 the land side, and which completely command the 
 whole of the town and harbor. There are fourteen 
 forts and redoubts, which form two semicircles 
 around the town on the land side, the outer one 
 consisting of a chain of detached star forts, and the 
 inner being foimed of aline of redoubts. These 
 are all in a commanding position, and the guns 
 would sweep the outer harbor as well as the en- 
 trance channels. The chain of forts which surround 
 the town in parallel lines with the redoubts consist 
 of the usual bastions and re-entering angles. They 
 command the country on the land side, as well as 
 the harbor and works seaward. There are, there- 
 fore, twenty-four regular forts and redoubts for the 
 I protection of Cherbourg, in addition to the six bat- 
 j teries on the mole. Other batteries on the land 
 could, of course, be quickly constructed in case of 
 I emergency. Along the docks there in a series of 
 large buildings constructed for arsenals, magazines, 
 an'd naval stores of every description. 
 
 The country around Cherbourg is very beautiful. 
 I hilly, and richly wooded, though the town itself is 
 on a plain that extends from the foot of the hills to 
 the shore of the bay. From most of the ground now 
 covered by the town the sea has receded, and at a 
 comparatively recent period. The best view of the 
 whole place is from the heights behind it, where 
 you have the town at your feet ; the military port, 
 with its dockyard, roofs, and bastions on the left ; 
 ' and the breakwater, the inner road, and the eight or 
 nine line-of-battle ships at anchor, as the centre of 
 I the picture. To the right is the height, almost a 
 
 cliff, ofLaRoule, crowned by a fortified barrack, 
 with embrasures looking, as all the guns do every- 
 where, seaward. The barrack, or fort under that 
 name, is one of the new constructions, and its fresh 
 white masonry contrasts well with the grey, weath- 
 er-stained face of the height on which it stands, 
 whence a slope of bare rock descends almost into 
 the town. The new railway from Paris turns round 
 the foot of this height, and the station is built, so to 
 speak, in its shadow : the platform is, in every sense, 
 'under the guns' of the fort. The dais epn- 
 structed for the Emperor, for the ceremony of the 
 inauguration of the line, directly fronts this height 
 of La Roule ; and when the decorations were com- 
 plete, and the semi-circular galleries for the spec- 
 tators filled, the mountain and its fort, rising 
 from the station itself, formed a m.ignificent back- 
 ground to the tableau. No scene-painter could have 
 devised anything so effective had he been required 
 to furnish a decoration expressly for the scene. 
 
 Another view of Cherbourg, and also a good one^ 
 may be taken from the end of the jetty of the com- 
 mercial port. At that point the ships and the break- 
 water are behind the spectator, the military port on 
 the right ; and the eye sweeps over the trading ves- 
 sels in the basins (of commerce always understood) 
 and the town, to be arrested again by the La Roule 
 mountain and fort, alwaysthe dominant feature, and 
 the less elevated hills that shut in the view, with 
 their fields and woods of the richest and softest 
 green, beautifully tinged by the sunset of a summer 
 evening. The foreground of the view from the jet- 
 ty is they quays. On the one to the right, between 
 the jetty and the distant military port, is the statue 
 of the great Emperor, closely boarded in, awaiting 
 its inauguration. Report speaks well of ihc statue 
 as a work of art, bui only the top of the Emperor's 
 hat is visible above ihe screen. The place of this 
 memorial is most appropriate, for though, some- 
 thing had been done for Cherbourg before the Con- 
 sulship, all the military works are the crcadon of 
 Napoleon, and his efligy fronis the greatest of them ; 
 his right hand pointing to the military port and 
 dockyards. As less present interest attaches to 
 what Cherbourg was in the time of the Roman oc- 
 cupation of Gaul than to what it is now, the im- 
 mense mass of erudition local research has col- 
 lected may be passed over. 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 57 
 
 TO CORRESPONDENTS. 
 
 ITT" OOTt CoHUEsroNPENTs sliould forward communicfl- 
 tiow? inteiuicd ("or iiif^ertiou in the Misctllatnj^ not later tliun 
 tbe Satiirdnv before the day of publicntioit, as our iiicrcus- 
 iiijr circulation compel? us to j;o to press every Monday 
 Tnoruiup; and whould be addressed— ' Kditor? of tlie Irish 
 Miscellany, Uoston, Mass.' SubscnborBshould mention the 
 townshlp.'county and State in which they reside- 
 
 (C?* We cannot return any manuscript sent ua for publica- 
 tion. 
 
 The Ueqpest of our reverend ^friend af Salem has been 
 complied with. 
 
 Dr. H. L. of Worccster'will please accept our thanks for 
 his very kind eflbrts in behalf ol this paper. 
 
 T. GLEPfNAN.' You must accept Dr. Lingard's dictum 
 on the historical question to which you allude, at least till 
 a better authority appears, which is not at present the case. 
 
 A RocHESTEu correspondent must excuse us for not pub- 
 lishing his selected verses. We are daily in receipt of orig- 
 inal poetry quite equal to that forwarded, which necessarily 
 linds it5 place where we have deposited his — the waste-bas- 
 ket. Now, don't be unreasonable ! 
 
 We are continually receiving letters from different quar- 
 ters inquiring for the Gift I'icture. I'arties who take the 
 Miscellany at periodical stores will receive pictures there, 
 and only there. Injustice to our agents at a distance, how- 
 ever, we must add that they have not yet received their 
 supply. 
 
 'B. F. & J. S., Chatham, Miramichi.' We have on our 
 books no evidence of your having taken the Miscellary be- 
 fore the 9th of August, the date of your first letter to this 
 olBce. To insure ourselves, therefore, we cannot violate 
 our invariable rule, which is. to give copies of our costly 
 PiCTtXRE to none but subscribers from the start or those 
 who take all the back numbers, which we should be happy 
 to send you when ordered. 
 
 A Correspondent asks: 'Who is the author of ' Mary's 
 Dream,' commencing — 
 
 ' The moon had climbed the highest hill' ? ' 
 
 John Lowe, a Scotchman, born in 1750 and died in 1798, 
 son of the gardener at Renmore Galloway and a student of 
 divinity, was the author of this fine ballad. It was written 
 on the death of a gentleman named Millar, a surgeon at 
 sea. who was attached to a Miss M'Ghie of Aieds. The poet 
 was tutor in the family^ of the lady's father, and was be- 
 trothed to her sister. He emigrated to this country, how- 
 ever, married another woman, became dissipated, and died 
 in great misery near Fredericksburg. Lowe was the author 
 of many other pieces, but this one only ia worthy of pres- 
 ervation. 
 
 IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 BOSTON, SATUEDAY, SEPTEMBER 4, 1858 
 
 THE LION'S SHARE. 
 
 Who will gain the profits which most people think 
 must he derived hy Ireland from the fact that the At- 
 lantic cable is fastened to her shore 1 Will the 
 fortunate men be Irish, or moneyed English, or canny 
 Scotch, or keen Americans 1 This question was sug- 
 gested in the closing paragraph of an article in our 
 last number on the new Cable, and we propose to add 
 a few words now to what we have already said con- 
 cerning this little-great accomplished fact of 
 the practical annihilation, so far as commercial and 
 manufactured news may be involved, of those puzzling 
 quiddities heretofore called Time and Spice. 
 
 Of coarse our hope is, that Ireland will be a heavy 
 gainer by this new development of electric force. 
 But hope, like faith, is not worth much without solid 
 works. It has too long been the custom with men 
 who at different times had been elected by the Irish 
 people or hy themselves as public leaders, to make 
 hope tell a flattering tale in reply to all questions like 
 that which we have proposed. 
 
 Of course, too, we believe that Ireland can give to 
 the world men who would be quite equal to the work 
 of at least making the telegraph pay a very handsome 
 toll to the Irish flag. Still that ii not the question. 
 No small amount of rhetoric has been given to show 
 what Ireland might Ho for herself and for the world if 
 her chihiren would be loyal to her and united among 
 themselves. The question is, — how far may the past 
 and the present record of Irish history justify the hope 
 that Ireland, so far as the benefits to he derived from 
 the cable are concerned, will be on the same footing 
 with the most favored nations ■? 
 
 Of course, too, we are ready to admit that, in the 
 prosecution of this work until it may have been su- 
 perseded hy some future invention which will be 
 called in its turn useless as the Cable was called a few 
 months ago, many Irishmen by the accident of birth 
 may win for themselves a fortune, or a name, or both. 
 Still, this is not the question before us. We a.>-k what 
 Ireland, as a nation, will gain by the Cabled We 
 
 can hardly repress a feeling of sadness when we read 
 a newspaper article, an essay, or a book got up to 
 show that the glories of the Irish nation are increased 
 by the work.i of Irishmen done, not in Ireland, hut in 
 strange lands which they have made their own; — not 
 for Ireland, but, in the first place for themselves, 
 and, lastly, for Austria, for Spain, for France, for 
 Great B. itain, for America, for even Turkey, — for any 
 country excepting their own. You are a successful 
 soldier, we would say to one, — why did yon not fight 
 for your home 1 You are an accomplished statesman, 
 — why was not your diplomatic talent employed in he- 
 half of the Irish nation ? You are a prosperous mer- 
 chant, — how much has Ireland gained from the fact 
 that you were born on Irish ground ? Yon are an in- 
 ventor, — a capitalist, — a scientific man, — have your in- 
 ventions, your money or your science caused Ireland 
 as a nation to advance a single step ? What good has 
 the Irish people, taken as a nation, received from the 
 circumstance, that Wellington, Castlereagh, Palmers- 
 ton, and a host of other Irishmen who have lived and 
 labored for themselves and England, — that the O'Don- 
 nels, Nugents, and others of Spain, Austria and 
 France, — that so many men of whom we read as hav- 
 ing done something in America, were born in Ireland 
 or were of pure Irish descents We do not ask 
 whether they loved their fatherland or not, — we ask 
 how much positive good, beyond the knowledge of the 
 fact that these fortunate men were once her children, 
 or sons of her sons ■? 
 
 Here, then, is the state of the question. It maybe 
 that some individual Irishmen may gain money by the 
 new invention, but will they spend their money in Ire- 
 land 1 It may be that Irish manufacturing towns will 
 find in the Cable a source of renewal or increase of 
 trade ; but will the factors, and the capitalists, who will 
 get the lion's share of the profits, spend their money 
 in Ireland ? Will even a majority of them he Irish- 
 men ? The Irish port of entry will show signs of re- 
 newed life, but, will it be really an Irish port, or a vast 
 Irish storage place, or temporary depot for the recep- 
 tion of English or American goods owned by men 
 who do not care a button for Irish national interests, 
 or for any but their own 1 
 
 The cuckoo lays her eggs and hatches her young in 
 a nest which she did not help to build. The rewards 
 of Ireland's life as a nation show how, from the ear- 
 liest times, foreign birds well-feathered their nests on 
 Irish ground. From the day of Henry II and Strong- 
 bow down to the unfortunate time of Henry VIII and 
 his daughter Elizabeth, the Normans and their de- 
 scendants pretended to a right to divide the land 
 among themselves, and to make the 'mere Irish' 
 hewers of wood and drawers of water. It is possible 
 that the Irish, by their indomitable preseverence, would 
 have driven the enemy beyond the channel, or have 
 reserved his body to fatten the soil, were it not that a 
 new and terrible element in the sixteenth and seven- 
 teenth centuries was added to the already suflScient ly 
 embarrassing difficulties of the Irish question, and 
 which has hindered ever since a hearty union of ele- 
 ments which might and should constitute an Irish na- 
 tion, — hinders that union now, and may hinder it for 
 many years, — perhaps ages to come. This is the 're- 
 ligious element.' Differences afl"ecting origin, or race, 
 were comparatively easy to be overcome. The Nor- 
 man invaders who stole land and kept it under the 
 Plantigenets became, as coiemporary writers say, — 
 ' more Irish than the Irish themselves.' But centuries 
 have passed since Elizabeth hunted the native Irish- 
 men, — sinfc James founded the Ulster Plantation, — 
 since Cromwell told the Catholic Irish to go to hell or 
 to Conaught, since William, after the battle of the 
 Boyne, rivetted the chains of Irish slavery with prnal 
 laws and other such religious materials, and yet, Ireland 
 as a nation stands where she did three hundred years 
 ago. The cuckoo has not only hatched her eggs in a 
 nest which she did not build, but she says now, and 
 has said all along the two last centuries, that they are 
 the builders and owners of the nest, and that it is not 
 an Irish, but a true English nest. Shasthone wisha ! 
 It is so, nevertheless, and six rebellions have not 
 
 changed the state of the case, unless for the worse. 
 Loaders, societies, all sorts of moans, good, indiffer- 
 ent, and bad, wise and foolish, promising and un- 
 promising, have been tried, and yet, the Irish difliculty 
 has not been solved, — the cuckoos have not yet been 
 driven by the wronged ones from the stolen nests. 
 During these weary ages of Anglican domination, a 
 few thousand men have controlled the earthly desti- 
 nies of millions of Irishmen. Each concession that 
 has been made from time to time, came, not fromjlove 
 but from indifference, from a spirit of mockery, 
 from contempt, from selfishness, or from fear. 
 And, at this day, we see that the dominant 
 class is really as estranged from the masses of tho 
 Irish population as they ever were at any time these 
 two hundred years, if we except the few periods of 
 war or revolt. This rule admits many exceptions, 
 but these are not numerous enough to destroy the rule, 
 the more so inasmuch as Catholics have never been 
 wanting who, for the sake of wealth or of office, would 
 sacrifice simply Irish to purely Imperial interests. 
 We are not now discussing the merits of their policy, we 
 merely state a fact. 
 
 The members of this comparatively small dominant 
 class: are quite sure that, in their day, no democratic 
 revolution will succeed. Most of them are bound to 
 England by the celebrated ties named by Lord Lynd- 
 hurst, — blood, language and religion. An almost per- 
 fect identity of interests, and a tolerable similarity in 
 social and civil life might with some reason be added 
 to the list of causes which bind together the dominant 
 races in England and Ireland. Your Irish great man 
 of the dominant class is seldom called an Irishman in 
 history, — he is called an Englishman, — a British sub- 
 ject. He is ranked as an Imperialist, — often as an 
 Englishman, rarely as an Irishman. His treasure, 
 his lime, talent, labor, his life are given to increase the 
 glory of the British empire, upon which 'the sun 
 never sets,' and we all know that in reality, that em- 
 pire means England. 
 
 The foregoing considerations appeared to us to be 
 worth discussion in answer to the question, — what good 
 will the Cable do to Ireland as a nation 1 Will it be 
 a new chain wherewith England will bind the sister 
 kingdom to the wheels of her chariot? Let us wait a 
 little while, and think, before we indulge in any exu- 
 berant demonstrations of joy. ' 
 
 A Fair in aid of the Catholic Church in Chelsea, 
 (Rev. Faiher Strain's) will be held at the City Hall, 
 commencing on Monday the 20th instant, and remain 
 open one week. The Pioneer of that city states that 
 the movement has excited quite a public interest among 
 all classes of people, aid having been liberally extend- 
 ed to it by all sects. It will undoubtedly prove a suc- 
 cess. One of the most instrumental in forwarding it, 
 expressed to us her gratification at the favor which her 
 appeal had received at the hands of the Protestants of 
 Chelsea. It is pleasant to know that such a liberal 
 sentiment exists. At the time when God is breaking 
 away the natural barriers that have divided nations, 
 the harriers that have divided men in spirit should not 
 be cherished, and we hope to see a large attendance on 
 the forthcoming occasion. 
 
 Fortune & Pelletiiir, 379 and 381 Washington 
 street, advertise in another column a large, varied, and 
 warrantable stock of dry goods and other indispensa- 
 ble articles of wearing apparel. These gentlemen have 
 been but a comparatively short time competitors for 
 public favor, yet they are eminently deserving of ex- 
 tensive patronage, as their numerous customers can 
 attest. 
 
 We heartily commend the sweet morsel of orig- 
 inal poetry on the next page to the kind regards of 
 such as may read this number of the Miscellany. 
 From personal knowledge, wc can assure our friends 
 that the writer has for some years been very favor- 
 ably known to the literary world. Read 'The Lit- 
 tle Maid Kathleen ' attentively. 
 
58 
 
 IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 [Written lor Hit Irisli Mi'Ci-llnny.) 
 THE LITTLE MAID CATHLEEN. 
 
 BY A. THKVEIITUX UV TRKVKUTUX HALL. 
 
 ' Come hero, my little maid Catbleea, 
 
 My I'vus arv dim and weak, 
 And yet uiclhouj;ht I i>aw but uow 
 
 A tear drop on thy cheek. 
 Why wi'C|i« the little Irish RirlT 
 Why stray her brown loctu out of oarif* 
 
 'This morn,' began the blue-eyed child, 
 
 * 1 looked acroiw the field, 
 And iu the bright nun saw a man 
 
 Ilin shining sickle wield ; 
 IliH Jacket and his hut of straw 
 
 Were like the ones my father wore.' 
 
 'And does yoor Hither live, Cathlccuf 
 
 Ijulck came the sob and tear, 
 ' II 't was not that his grave is green 
 
 I 'd not be toiling hero; 
 He held me to his punting breast 
 Vutil 1 cunnot toll the rest. 
 
 • Wb lived in sncli a pretty spot! 
 
 The hill-tops touehcd the sky; 
 
 There was a river running ncur. 
 
 The flowers grow red and high ; 
 Ho would not let me toil and trend, 
 I wa» Ills ' motherless child,' be said. 
 
 So I would keep our cottage clean 
 
 And sweep its earthy floor, 
 And knit and sing and welcome him 
 
 When bis day's work was o'er — 
 And dish the milk and spread the meal, 
 And love him through all woe and weal. 
 
 But then the Tumine cnme; alas! 
 
 HoK^ slowly day by day 
 Wc put off hopes of better times, 
 
 Kvengrvw too wenk to pray; 
 Till one dread night he .suflercd less — 
 At morning 1 was fatherless.' 
 
 ' Come here, Cathlccn, wipe off the tears. 
 
 And listen while I say 
 You shall not be my little maid 
 
 From this sweet summer's day ; 
 Kny, start not with that look so wild; 
 Come to my heart and be — my child.' 
 
 A Mother's Love. — In some spring freshet, a 
 river wildlv wnslud its shores, nnd rent away a boui^h 
 whereon a. bird had built a cottiiKe for her summer 
 liopcs. Down the white and whirling stream drifted 
 the green branch, with its wickercup of unfledged 
 song ; and fluttering beside it, as it went, the mother. 
 Unheeding the roaring river, on she kept, her cries of 
 agony and fear piercing the pauses ot tlic storm. 
 How like the love of the old l'a.-.hioned mother, who 
 followed the chihl she had plucked from her heart, all 
 over the world. Swept away by passion that child 
 might he, it mattered not ; bearing away with him, 
 the fragments of the shattered roof tree, though he 
 did, yet that mother was with him, a Ruth through 
 all his life, and a Rachel at his death. [Lamartine. 
 
 Steamkr 1-or Galwat. — The steamship Prince 
 Albert sailed from New York on the 21st ult. for Gal- 
 way, with 246 passengers and 400 tons of cargo. A 
 demonstration was got up on the occasion of her de- 
 parture by several Irish and American cirizens. A 
 steamer escorted her down the hay as far as the High- 
 lands, having a band of music on board, and firing 
 200 ),nns, which were returned by the Prince Albert. 
 Several other vessels also sainted her by firing gnns 
 and otherwise us she passed along, and among ihcm 
 was the Spanish frigate Barrenguela. The captain of 
 the Prince Albert expressed himself confident of; 
 reaching Galway in less than nine days. A collation , 
 was given on board the Prince Albert at Stuten 
 Island. .^.^^ j 
 
 Eepvblicanism.— The following incident is relat- 
 ed of President Buchanan : — 
 
 The President, on his return to Washington, 
 stopped at the Relay House, with other passengers, 
 decidedly dusty, and in want of a wash and brtish. • 
 He stripped off coat and neckcloth, patiently waited 
 his turn in the bar-room, for a wash basin, and en- 
 joyed a glorious douse, quite as unostentatiously as , 
 the poorest man iu the country. 
 
 Compiled for the Mirollauy. 
 AN EPISODE IN UNITED STATES HISTORY. 
 
 On the eleventh of March, seventeen hundred and 
 eighty-nine, delegates from eleven States, which had 
 then rendered the Constitution effectual by their 
 acceptance and ratitication of it, met at New York, 
 in Federal Hall, a new and elegant building, pre- 
 pared for their reception. Though great difference 
 of opinion had lately existed relative to the new 
 form of government, there was but one sentiment as 
 to the itidividunl who should be elected its supreme 
 Magistrate. All men, of whatever party (jxed their 
 attention upon the late cominandor of their armies, 
 as the fittest person to till the important station of 
 President. I'pon opening and counting the votes, 
 it was found that George Washington was unani- 
 mously elected President, and John Adams Vice 
 President, by a great majority. 
 
 The intelligence of his election having been com- 
 municated to hiui while on his farm, in Virginia, 
 to which ho had retired, unambitious of farther 
 honors, he set out soon after for New Y'ork. On 
 his way thither, the road was crowded with count- 
 less numbers, an.xious to enjoy a sight of the 'Man 
 of the people.' Large escorts of Militia and many 
 gentlemen of the first character and station, attend- 
 ed him from town to town, and he was everywhere 
 received with the highest honors which a grateful 
 people could confer. Addresses of congratulation 
 were presented to him by the inhabitants of every 
 place of consequence through which he passed ; to 
 all of which he returned such modest, unassuming 
 answers, as were in every respect suited to the oc- 
 casion. So great were the honors with which he 
 was loaded, that they could scarcely J\ave failed to 
 produce haughtiness in the mind of any ordinary 
 man ; nay, had he not been such a cool, self pos- 
 sessed, humble, yet self-reliant man, of whose like 
 we have no counterpart in modern or ancient histo- 
 ry, pride must have so elated him as to have made 
 him forget himself, yet never has it been said he 
 either forgot himself, the people or th - Great Dis- 
 poser of events, and that in every success he only 
 saw good for the future of his country, while in his 
 vicissitudes and adverse circumstances he only was 
 nerved for greater efforts and more active prepara- 
 tion for what he was positively assured in the Di- 
 vine will, was in the future for his countrymen. 
 On all occasions, he behaved to all men with the af- 
 fability of one citizen to another. He was truly 
 great in deserving the applause of his country, but 
 much greater in not being elated by it. 
 
 ^\'hcn he arrived at the river Schuylkill, the 
 bridge over which he had to pass was highly deco- 
 rated with laurels and evergreens. At each end of 
 it were erected magnificent arches composed of 
 laurels, and on each side of the bridge was a laurel 
 shrubbery. As he passod the bridge, a youth or- 
 namented with sprigs of laurel, assisted by machi- 
 nery, let drop above his head (unperceived by him) 
 a civic crown. Upwards of twenty thousand per- 
 sons lined the fences, fields and avenues, between 
 the Schuylkill and Philadelphia. Through these 
 he was conducted to the city by a very numrrous 
 and respectable body of citizens, where he partook 
 of a sumptuous entertainment provided for the oc- 
 casion. The pleasures of the day were succeeded 
 by on elegant display of fire-works. On crossing 
 the river Delaware, and landing on the Jersey shore, 
 lie was saluted with repeated cheering by the in- 
 habitants of the vicinity ; and when he came to the 
 brow of the hill, on his way to Trenton, a triumph- 
 al arch was erected on the bridge, by the direction 
 of the ladies of the place. The crown of the arch 
 was highly ornamented with imperial laurels and 
 flowers, and on it was displayed, in large letters, 
 ' December 26, 1776 ;' in allusion to General Wash- 
 ington's victory over the Hessians on that day in 
 the neighborhood of Trenton. On the sweep of the 
 arch beneath was this inscription : — ' The defender 
 
 of the mothers will also protect the daughters.' On 
 the north side was ranged n number of young girls 
 dresed in white, with garlands of flowers on their 
 arms ; in the second row stood the young ladies, 
 and behind them the married ladies of the town. 
 The instant he passed the arch, the young girls be- 
 gan to sing the following ode : 
 
 ' Welcome, mighty chief once more. 
 
 Welcome to this gratcf\il shore; 
 
 Now uo mercenary foe 
 
 Aims again the fatal blow. 
 
 Virgins fair and matrons grave. 
 
 These thy conquering arms did save. 
 
 Build for thee triumphal bow'rs; 
 
 Strew, ye fair, his way with flow'rs — 
 
 Strew your hero's way with flow'rs.' 
 As they sang the last lines, they strewed the flow- 
 ers on the road before their beloved deliverer. His 
 situation on this occasion, contrasted with what he 
 had in December 1776, felt on the same spot, when 
 the affairs of America were at the lowest ebb of de- 
 pression, tilled him with sensations that cannot be 
 described. 
 
 He was rowed across the bay from Elizabeth- 
 town to New York, in an elegant barge by thirteen 
 pilots, while all the vessels in the harbor hoisted 
 their flags. Stairs had been erected and decorated 
 for his reception, and upon his landing, universal 
 joy diffused itself through every order of the people ; 
 and he was received and congratulated by the Gov- 
 ernment of the State, and the olHcers of the corpo- 
 ration, lie was conducted from the landing place 
 to the house which had been fitted up for his re- 
 ception, and was followed by a procession of Militia 
 in elegant uniforms, and by great numbers of citi- 
 zens. In the evening the houses of the inhabitants 
 were brilliantly illuminated, and fireworks displayed 
 in many places. 
 
 Soon after his arrival, a day was appointed for 
 his taking the oath of ofiice ; and- on this occasion 
 he was wholly clothed in American manufactures. 
 On the morning of the day Hxed for this purpose, 
 the clergy of different denominations assembled 
 their congregations in their respective places ol wor- 
 ship, and offered up public prayers for the Presi- 
 dent and the people of the United States. About 
 noon a procession, followed by a multitude of citi- 
 zens moved from the President's house to Federal 
 Hall. AVhen they came within a short distance of 
 the hall, the troops formed a line on both sides of 
 the way, through which General Washington, ac- 
 companied by the Vice President, ilr. Adams, pass- 
 ed into the Senate Chamber. Immediately after, 
 accompanied by both houses of Congress, he went 
 into the gallery fronting Uroad street, and before 
 them and an immense concourse of people, took the 
 oath prescribed by the Constitution, which was ad- 
 ministered by Mr. Livingston, Chancellor of the 
 State of New Y'ork, and was in the following words : 
 ' I do solemnly swear, that I will faithfully execute 
 the oftiee of President of the United States, and wiD 
 to the best of my abilities, preserve, protect, and de- 
 fend the Constitution of the United States.' 
 
 An awful silence prevailed among the spectators 
 during this part of the ceremony: it was a minute 
 of the most sublime political joy. The Cliancellor 
 then proclaimed him President of the United States, 
 which was followed by a salute from thirteen pieces 
 of cannon, and by the voices of the surrounding 
 spectators who rent the air with their acclamations. 
 The President bowed most respectfully to the peo- 
 jjle, and the air again resounded with shouts of ex- 
 ultation. He then retired to the Senate Chamber, 
 where he made an animated speech to both houses ; 
 in which his language not only expressed his own 
 feeling on this solemn occasion, but likewise discov- 
 ered his anxiety and concern for the welfare and 
 happiness of the people in whose cause he had so 
 often ventured his life. Several circumstances con- 
 curred to render the scene ot his Inauguration un- 
 usually solemn and impressive. The presence o 
 the beloved father and deliverer of his country ; the 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 59 
 
 impressions of gratitude for his past services ; the 
 vast concourse of spectators j the devout fervency 
 with which he repeated tlie oath, and the reverential 
 manner in which he bowed to kiss the sacred vol- 
 ume — these circumstances, together with that of his 
 being chosen to the most dignified office in the coun- 
 try, and pcrliaps in the world, by tlie unanimous 
 voice of more than 3,000,000 of enlightened free- 
 men, all conspired to place this among the most in- 
 teresting and august scenes which have ever been 
 exhibited on the face of the globe. 
 
 Note. 'It seemed from the number of witness- 
 es,' said an intelligent spectator of this sublime 
 scene, * to be a solemn appeal to heaven and earth 
 at once. Upon the subjeet of this great and good 
 man, 1 may, perhaps, be an enthusiast ; but I con- 
 fess, I was under an awful and religious persuasion, 
 that the gracious ruler of the universe was looking 
 ' down at that moment with peculiar complacency 
 on an act, which, to a part of his creatures, was so 
 highly important. Under this impression, when 
 the Chancellor pronounced, in a very feeling man- 
 ner, 'Long live George Washington,' my sensibility 
 was wound up to such a pitch, that I could do no 
 more than wave my hat, without the power of join- 
 ing in the repeated exclamations which rent the 
 air. 0. 
 
 [Written for the Miscellany] 
 C AT O CT I N . 
 
 PART.JIRST. 
 
 How we heard of it. 
 
 Not through the papers. 
 
 Not from the enthusiastic lips, all rippling at 
 once, of a score or so of ' delicious schreechers ' just 
 home from the season thereat ; but, from — 
 
 The Reverend Doctor Whitehead. 
 
 How inappropriately persons are often named. 
 Dr. AVhitehead was not, is not, grey at all ; nor yet 
 old, — by no means so. He is ' decidedly youn ;' 
 though not in the sense that Latimer seemed to im- 
 ply, in looking at Coppwfield. 
 
 He is tall, gentlemanly, slender, student-like pale; 
 a face somewhat thin, from the cares of bodies as 
 well as souls ; for, unfortunately ladies, 
 
 the fact, 
 
 ' I'm wae to think upo' '- 
 
 ' E'en for your sakes,' 
 
 but — 'pity, 'lis, 'tis true' — the Doctor is — married. 
 
 Now, that the murder is out, I fear you feel no 
 interest in the color of Dr. Whitehead's hair ; though 
 it is chestnut, and curling; or his eyes, a mild, 
 slumbering, bright hazel, surmounted by brows of 
 a somewhat darker hue, and perfectly arched. 
 Nor would you care the least to see those long- 
 fringed lids lifted from the pure well of those eyes ; 
 in whose depths Tru'h indeed dwells ; and see the 
 light of Heaven reflected thankfully, faithfully back, 
 as that soft voice murmurs a prayer, or invokes a 
 blessing. 
 
 But here I wrong you ; I have gone too far. 
 
 When the Missionary stands in holy places you 
 view him as a statue ; Pygmalion-like ; with the 
 Sun of Righteousness halo-ing his brow, and hear 
 him as speaking of miracles. 
 
 Doctor Whitehead rang my door-bcU about a week 
 ago ; was ushered into the parlor by A\'innie — (Win- 
 nie is our housemaid — and a good one too,) and the 
 Doctor took an arm-chair, and awaited our coming 
 down stairs. 
 
 I am almost ashamed to say, that we keep very 
 late hours. Though, we have said it so often, I am 
 aftaid we have nearly overcome the disposition to 
 blush at the confession. 
 
 On reflection, we keep rather early hours, for re- 
 tiring. It is frequently one, two, and sometimes 
 nearly three o'clock in the morning, ere any of us 
 thinks of Rarham's lines, 
 
 ' Look at the clock, .Sir ! 
 Look at the clook!' 
 
 Aye! and for rising, also; one o'clock sounds re- 
 markably early — if you do not add — in the after- 
 noon. 
 
 But now, it was only nine. Little Ida ran down 
 the steps, and into the parlor, in her white night- 
 slip ; and was drawn tenderly on the Doctor's knee, 
 to chatter away to him until ' papa and mama were 
 ready to come down.' 
 
 Litttler Hal — a one year old, brown headed and 
 blue eyed, the proud possessor of three or four 
 sprouting teeth, alike to which, 
 
 ' No pearl ever lay, under Oman's green water,' — 
 was tumbled over to the tender mercies of his nurse, 
 ' Little Mary.' ' Little,' in contradistinction to her 
 Aunt — another Mary ; older and bigger. 
 
 ' Good morning. Doctor ! We are glad to see 
 you.' 
 
 A shake hands apiece ; and seated triangularly 
 opposite each other, the Doctor thus introduced to 
 us, — Catoctin. 
 
 ' Hang it !' cries the reader. 'When will he come 
 to it ?' 
 
 Patience ! Catoctin is a long way off ; and needs 
 a good deal of rambling to reach it. 
 
 Besides, you are — powerful though you may be — 
 like the genii conquered by Solomon of old ; or, the 
 snakes and toads vanquished by St. Patrick, (if you 
 be envenomed critics,) you are imprisoned — in my ink 
 bottle. 
 
 So, manifest becoming resignation — or, in goes the 
 stopper, and overboard you go, for what may seem to 
 you another century. 
 
 ' Madam !' began the Doctor. The Dr. always ad- 
 dresses the ladies in preference. ' How would you, 
 and your husband, (I bowed,) like to go up in the 
 mountains for a few weeks, and take the children 
 along V 
 
 ' Very much indeed. Sir !' replied my wife. ' I 
 drove out yesterday to Ellaville, in search of country 
 board ; thinking the air, and the Bladensburg Spa, 
 would be of service to the children. I am to have an 
 answer fjom Mrs. Green, Thursday — whether she will 
 then be able to receive us.' 
 
 ' Well Madan ' — continued his Reverence — ' if you, 
 with your family, will join a little party of my friends, 
 and yours, going up to Springfield Farm, in the Ca- 
 toctin Mountains — a chain of the Blue Ridge — I can 
 promise you finer air and accommodations than can 
 be obtained at any watering place elsewhere. 
 
 ' Who compose the party, Doctor ■? And when 
 are they going f asked I. 
 
 ' Here is Mr. and Mrs, S — , Sir ; your Sister Maye ; 
 myself, and probably Mrs. W. and the children. But 
 that I cannot decide, until my return to Washington, 
 after conducting the party to Catoctin, and paying a 
 short visit to Berley on church bnsiness.' 
 
 ' Why, that will be splendid, Wife !' exclaimed I. 
 Let us go, by all means !' 
 
 But wife preferred to go by small means, and judi- 
 ciously asked the question, 
 
 ' How much will it cost. Doctor, to get there '! And 
 how much to stay V 
 
 ' I intend writing, madam, to Mr. Miller, imme- 
 diately on getting your answer ; to ascertain upon 
 what terms we can be accommodated, and when they 
 can receive us. But, I can safely state, that the cost 
 of travelhng will not exceed four dollars apiece ; nor 
 of lioard, &c. while there, three dollars per week.' 
 
 ' We'll go ! ' said I. 
 
 ' When do wc start?' asked wife. 
 
 ' Four o'clock, Thursday morning,' answered the 
 Doctor. 
 
 ' Will you call for us 1 ■ I inquired. , 
 
 ' Certainly — he sure to he ready.' 
 
 ' Oh never fear ! ' was the reply. 
 
 And Doctor Whitehead shut the garden gate, — we, 
 the hall door ; and instantly set about our prepara- 
 tions. 
 
 We charm the hearts of men and gain them over, 
 by teaching them with meekness, and in a humble 
 manner. 
 
 Napoleon and Wkllinoton. — Both owed their 
 success to the care with which in combining their 
 operations, they employed the means which were at 
 their disposal, suitable to the character of their na- 
 tion, and to the diversity of the institutions to 
 which they were bound to conform. Napoleon at 
 the head of an English army, would have found in- 
 surmountable difficulties, arising even from the na- 
 ture of his own genius, and Wellington, had he 
 been called to the command of the enthusiastic 
 troops of a victorious republic, would have been in 
 a no less embarrassing situation. Napoleon strikes 
 the imagination, and advances, as one may say, by 
 a succession of prodigies ; Wellington addresses 
 himself to men's reason, and attains success by or- 
 dinary means. There is not one proclamation of 
 Bonaparte's in which glory is not exalted, and duty 
 forgotten ; there is not one of Wellington's orders 
 of the day which makes even an allusion to glory, 
 or in which any other motives are appealed to, save 
 duty and patriotism. An imagination fond of prod- 
 igies, and insatiable, aiming at the infinite and the 
 impossible ; the most vast and versatile faculties ; 
 boundless conceptions, united with a singular sus- 
 ceptibility of ideas and impressions, were the prin- 
 cipal characteristics of Napoleon's genius. Solid 
 judgment, cool reasoning powers, a glance of mar- 
 velous accuracy, both in the field of battle and 
 closet ; the most piercing good sense, raising itself 
 to a height nothing could weary, and which noth- 
 ing could distract ; impertubable steadiness in the 
 greatest danger, were some of the charaeteractics of 
 Wellington — so great a figure in the nineteenth cenj 
 tury. It was with giant steps that Napoleon ran a 
 career that bore him for a moment to the summit of 
 human greatness ; by the rapidity of his rise, he 
 amazed the world, and everything about him bears 
 the stamp of magical improvisation. His rival, on 
 the contrary, raised himself with a patient and mod- 
 est slowness, by courageous reflection. He never 
 receded ; he continually advanced with successful 
 moderation ; and his glory has followed an advance 
 which always had the skill to avoid reverses. To 
 speak vividly to the imagination of men, to fasci- 
 nate them, to awaken their enthusiasm, to labor by 
 every possible means to inspire them with an ad- 
 miration not unmingled with terror, was the con- 
 stant study of Napoleon, who, when occasion re- 
 quired, did not disdain the tricks of theatrical dis- 
 play. Always simple, the Duke of Wellington nev- 
 er attempted to produce any cSect except upon men's 
 reason — under no circumstances did he ever lend 
 himself to anything like a dramatic effect. Duty 
 was his only rule, and this he imposed on others ; 
 he had a horror of charltanism and falsehood, he 
 never sought to influence the minds of his troops ; 
 but on one or two occasions he reminded them that 
 they were expected to shed their blood freely, be- 
 cause such was their duty. Wellington, obliged 
 to respect the laws and institutions of his country, 
 met with obstacles unknown to the French generals, 
 and to which all resistance was necessarily fruitless. 
 As chief of the army, he had to obey statesmen 
 who knew nothing of military affairs, and who yet 
 pretend to direct them ; a pretension as fatal as ri- 
 diculous, but in strict conformity to the spirit of 
 constitutional governments. Napoleon, on the con- 
 trary, executed his resolutions with control. Dur- 
 ing his reign, the press hrd no liberty, and the na- 
 tion in general, had no right save that of obedience. 
 The Emperor had nothing to do but to require of 
 France, her last man and her last shilling, and 
 France was willing to give both without a murmur. 
 
 CAnToucHE, the French robber, was once request- 
 ed by a young man to be engaged in his band. 
 ' A\niere have you served ?' asked Cartouche. 'Two 
 years with an attorney, and six months with an in- 
 spector of police." ' Well,' answered the chief, 
 ' that whole time shall be reckoned as if you had 
 served in my troop.' 
 
60 
 
 IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 FOREIGN INTELLIOENCE. 
 
 IBEL.VNU. 
 
 The recent assixcs is the tenth that has passed over 
 within tJic last six years without a capital convic- 
 tion in tho South Hiding of Tippcrary. 
 
 At the present time a greater number of houses, 
 merchants' premises, and public buildings, are be- 
 ing erected in Uclfast than at any time for some 
 years past. 
 
 Sir Jolm Acton, Bart., it is said, has purchased 
 the Dublin Review, as proprietor and editor. It 
 has hitherto been conducted by Mr. Bagshaw, Q. C, 
 and Cardinal AViseraan. 
 
 Charles Dickens is to visit Belfast in the latter 
 end of the present month, for the purpose of giving 
 two readings of some of his most popular works. 
 
 On Wednesday evening the Kev. Dr. O'Brien, 
 Professor of -\.ll Hallows College, delivered to the 
 members of the St. Muuthin's Young Men's Soci- 
 ety, Limerick, a very eloquent and instruclive lec- 
 ture. There was a large attendance of members 
 and visitors. 
 
 It is much more than probable that the title of 
 Lord Caher— supposed to be e.xtinct — will shortly 
 ba revived in the person of a gentleman who re- 
 sides not one hundred miles from Clonmel, he being 
 lineally descended from Earl Desmond of Dromana, 
 to whose grand-daughter — daughter to Lord De- 
 cies — his great grandfather was united, as was also 
 his great grand-daughter to the Lord Caher of those 
 days. [AVaterford Mail. 
 
 It has given us much pleasure to be informed that 
 the Catholic young nun of Charleville, have follow- 
 ed the example set by those of so many other towns 
 and cities in this country, by founding a branch of 
 the Young Men's Society there. The society was 
 inaugurated on Sunday, by the Very llev. Thomas 
 Croke, P.P. andV.G., to whose exertions the young 
 men of Charle\-ille are much indebted for the intro- 
 duction of an institution which must confer on them 
 as it has on others, in other places, so many ad- 
 vantages. 
 
 The Encumbered Estates Court died on the 28th 
 July. It is stated that the total amount of pur- 
 chase money that has passed through the Court from 
 the commencement, is over £22,000,000, out of 
 which about £3,000,000 or not quite so much, were 
 purchased by English and Scotch purchasers. The 
 number of estates sold were 2,380, divided into 
 more than 11,000 lots, and 8,235 conveyances have 
 been executed by the commissioners. The court 
 will be re-established under the Leases and Sales of 
 Landed Estates Act. 
 
 On Thursday week, at Riversdalc, two laborers, 
 Michael and James Fitzgerald, were employed by a 
 farmer in that neighborhood at some work, and 
 ■while e-xcavating under a bank, a large mass of more 
 than a ton weight of earth fell on them. Next day, 
 Friday, they were brought to the County Infirmary ; 
 Michael's leg was in a state of mortification, spread- 
 ing fast up to the thigh. James suffered a fracture 
 of the thigh in two places — knee joint severely in- 
 jured, and compound dislocation at the ankle joint. 
 The bone protruding, it was removed by Dr. 
 Crumpe at once. On Tuesday morning one of the 
 unfortunate men died in the county infirmary, 
 leaving a wife and five children to deplore his loss. 
 [Kerry Post. 
 
 Lord Palmerston, who, as everybody knows, is 
 an Irish Viscount, has gone on a visit to his large 
 estates in the ' Green Isle.' Alas for fallen great- 
 ness; nobody takes any notice of the ex-Premier. 
 Pretty soon, Mr. Disraeli will be in the north of 
 Ireland, in compliance with urgent invitations, and 
 then there will be a different scene. The brilliant 
 orator, for Mr. Disraeli is one of the most brilliant 
 living, will find appreciative and enthusiastic au- 
 diences. Ireland, indeed, is to be quite lively with 
 gaieties and merry-makings. Mr. Brigh, the en- 
 gineer of the Atlantic cable, has been invited by the 
 
 I Lord Mayor of Dublin to a public dinner, which [ felt no pity for the nations they have outraged and 
 
 is to be given at the Mansion House on the 1st of 
 September. To make the honor more marked, the 
 Lord I.,ieutenant has consented to be present. 
 
 It is with regret we have to announce the death 
 of Miss Curtis, daughter of Mr. Curtis, county 
 Louth, and sister to the Kev. M. Curtis, C. C. Cam- 
 lough. She entered the convent of the Sisters of 
 Charity in this town last April twelvemonth, and 
 shortly afterwards proceeded to Paris to complete 
 her noviciate, but having fallen into ill healtli there, 
 she, on the advice of the physicians of the place, 
 came home in May last, but lingered till the 29th of 
 July, when she gave up her soul to him in whose 
 service she longed to labor. Her remains were in- 
 terred in Knockbridge burying-ground, and were 
 followed by as large a concourse as ever was seen 
 in Louth, the procession extending over a mile. 
 [Xewry Examiner. 
 
 On Tuesday, a young man named Thomas Brien, 
 employed in Mrs. lleid's Blanket Factory, Green's 
 Bridge, met with a shocking accident. At G o'clock 
 A. M., when the mill was set to work, he placed 
 his ear close to the carding machinery, for the pur- 
 pose of detecting whether there was any friction, 
 when his neckcloth was caught Dy the fly-wheel, 
 and in this way his throat was brought in contact 
 with the machinery — the consequence to the poor 
 fellow being a fearful lasccration of the front of his 
 neck, tearing the windpipe to pieces, from the chin 
 to the neck. Surgeons Kcams and James were at 
 once in attendance, and as suffocation was immi- 
 nent, an opening was made in the lower part of the 
 wound, through which, by means of a silver tube, 
 the poor sufferer is enabled to breathe freely. How- 
 ever, from the nature of the injury, his medical at- 
 tendants have very little hope of his recovery. 
 [Kilkenny Journal. 
 
 Riots in Kilkenny. — The Kilkenny Journal says 
 we regret to announce that the peace of the city has 
 not only been seriously endangered for some days 
 past, but that acts of violence have been perpetrated 
 in several parts of the country, by a large body of 
 laborers from this and the surrounding counties, 
 who have been thrown out of employment by the 
 introduction of machinery for agricultural purposes. 
 On Sunday, the 8th, upwards of 400 persons as- 
 sembled in our streets, most of them armed with 
 reaping hooks, yelling in a most frightful manner, 
 to the great dismay of the citizens, who were hour- 
 ly expecting nothing 1 ss than the sack of the city. 
 On Monday, the mob had possession of the streets, 
 shouting and yelling, and on Monday morning they 
 held a sort of council of war, at which it was de- 
 cided that all the machinery in the county should 
 be forthwith destroyed, as the only chance of em- 
 ployment for the laborer. They proceeded to this 
 work, and some of the owners looked on quietly at 
 the smashing of their reaping machines, knowing 
 that resistance was useless. Others defended their 
 property and were roughly handled by the rioters. 
 Two companies of dragoons, hourly expected from 
 the Curragh camp, will restore order. 
 
 The English press and the English people arc in 
 a panic. They believe thatXapoleon the Third, no 
 matter what his language to the contrary may be, 
 is preparing for their destruction. In vain he tells 
 them that they need not fear him. In vain the 
 French press declares that Cherbourg, although 
 strong, will prove a harmless thing. The English 
 see more than harm in i'. They behold in Cher- 
 bourg, aftcr^jghtcenturiesof enmity between them- 
 selves and the French, a real, living menace of a 
 French invasion — a starting point from which may 
 issue in a year, or in six months, the power which 
 shall make them the vassals of Gaul. And at the 
 very idea of such things, they shriek and howl, as if 
 they saw the day of doom, and haS no hope of es- 
 caping. Well, let them enjoy their terror and dis- 
 may. They are invaders themselves. They have 
 
 scourged. They are torturers and enslavers, and 
 they never felt a pang of remorse for all their butch- 
 eries. [Dundalk Democrat. 
 
 ENOLANn. 
 
 The Daily News throws considerable doubt on the 
 story in Wednesday's Times, alleging to be about a 
 young lady who escaped the massacre at Cawnj)orc. 
 The Times itself does not put much faith in the 
 yarn, and even if it be true, it gives no corrobora- 
 tion to the atrocity stories. 
 
 The Channel Fleet. — Colonel H. Packe, com- 
 manding this division of Royal Marines Light In- 
 fantry, has received an order from the Admiralty, 
 that the corps of Royal Marines is to be augmented 
 by 6,000 men, in consequence of the number of ma- 
 rines that ■will be required by the Channel fleet. 
 
 Letters received early this week from Birming- 
 ham represent Mr. Sheridan Knowles, the eminent 
 dramatist, as in a dying state, and that but faint 
 hopes are entertained of his ultimate recovery. The 
 intelligence has caused much an.xiety here, where 
 Mr. Knowles was so well known and so much re- 
 spected. [Glasgow Paper. 
 
 The Herald says that a case of breach of promise 
 of marriage of an extraordinary character, will be 
 tried at Bristol assizes. The defendant is a repre- 
 sentative of an Irish constituency ; the lady was 
 formerly connected with a west-end establishment. 
 The letters are so voluminous that they have been 
 printed for convenience of evidence, and form a 
 moderately large volume. 
 
 Two children have been drowned by their mother 
 — a married woman — in a small bay on the coast of 
 Somersetshire. The eldest child was a girl two years 
 and a half old ; the other was a boy, about a twelve 
 month old. The mother afterwards surrendered 
 herself at the police office at Flax Burton, eight 
 miles from Bristol. She confessed the crime but 
 did not state her motive. 
 
 A captain in a crack cavalry corps, says the Uni- 
 ted Service Gazette, has lieen compelled to retire 
 from the service, by the sale of his commission, for 
 knocking down a subaltern in the same regiment. 
 The quarrel arose about the captain accusing the 
 cornet ofbeing of Jewish extraction, which appeared 
 very galling to the young man's feelings. 
 
 Four human skeletons have been discovered by 
 the -workmen employed in digging for the founda- 
 tions of the AVestminster Palace Hotel. They were 
 found in the centre of the ground where formerly 
 stood some old structures of a very disreputable 
 character. The remains were probably those of 
 persons who had been murdered ; but an inquiry 
 would now be fruitless, from lapse of time. 
 
 The dead body of a youth, sixteen years of age, 
 was discovered a few days ago in a hayrack in a 
 stable at Wick, near Berkely, Gloucestershire. He 
 had been missing for two days, and had last been 
 seen in company of two carters, named Daniels and 
 Bailey. It was Daniels who first announced the dis- 
 covery of the body, which he did in a very cool and 
 flippant manner. He and Bailey have been appre- 
 hended and committed for trial on a charge of wilful 
 murder. 
 
 At a meeting held recently, of the U. P. Presby- 
 tery, of Aberdeen, Mr. Turner, of Craigdam made 
 the following statement ; — ' So far as his observa- 
 tions extended — speaking of the country districts — 
 it would seem that a servant, male or female, about 
 farm i)laccs, who has not been guilty, and is not 
 known to have been guilty of the violation of the 
 law of chastity, is the exception not the rule ; and 
 again, that it is the exception if a master has not 
 been chargeable, some time or other, with corrupt- 
 ing those under him.' [Edinburgh Courant. 
 
 FRANCE. 
 
 The first of the celebrations of fetes took place on 
 the afternoon of the 4th of August. It was the in- 
 auguration of the new line of railroad that connects 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 61 
 
 Cherbourg with Paris. The completion of a line of 
 railroad from Paris to this port is in itself an event; 
 it is one of the imperial works, as it has been grant- 
 ed since IS52. The Cherbourg station was, of course, 
 the scene of the inauguration. It has been carefully 
 prepared, both to accommodate the immense num- 
 ber of spectators and to make it the theatre of a 
 brilliant scenic display. 
 
 The statue of the First Napoleon was inaugurated 
 at Cherbourg, on Sunday. Their Majesties then 
 embarked on board the Bretagne, which sailed for 
 Brest. 
 
 The following remarks occurred in the Emperor's 
 speech at the inauguration of the statue : — 
 
 'It seems tobeapart of my destiny to accomplish, 
 by peace, the great designs of the Emperor conceiy- 
 ed by him during war. His principles obtain their 
 triumph at the present day by the force of reason. 
 It is thus, for instance, that the question of the free- 
 dom of the seas has in our time been solved. Pos- 
 terity, indeed, will always be found to realise the 
 ideas of a great man. But, whilst we refer these 
 great results to the design of Napoleon I., we must 
 also do justice to the efforts which had been made 
 by preceding governments, not only by that of Louis 
 XVI., but as far back as Louis XIV. The present 
 government, relying on the support of the will of 
 the great masses of the nation, does not wage war 
 except when it is forced to defend the national hon- 
 or, and the great interests of the people. Let us 
 continue in this course without distraction ; let 
 us continue to develop in peace the resources 
 of our country ; let us invite foreigners to visit us 
 as friends, and not as rivals ; and let us show that 
 France is a nation in which confidence and unity 
 reign, and that maintaining such internal union as 
 resists all passionate impulses of the day, she abides 
 mistress of herself, obedient only to the dictates of 
 honor and reason.' 
 
 The Moniteur publishes the following account of 
 the dinner given on board the Bretagne by the Em- 
 peror to Queen Victoria. Their Imperial Majesties 
 embarked at 6 o'clock, with their suite, to go on 
 ■ board. As soon as the Imperial barge appeared it 
 was saluted by three salvoes from all the French and 
 English vessels and from the artillery of the forts. 
 The yards were manned and the sailors cheered 
 lustily. At 7 o'clock the barge of her Majesty the 
 Queen of England left the Royal yacht and pulled 
 towards the Bretagne. The salute was renewed. 
 The Emperor received his august guest at the foot 
 of the companion-ladder of the Bretagne. The 
 cheers of the crew and the repeated shouts of ' Vive 
 la Keine d' Angleterre ' informed the squadrons that 
 the Sovereign of the United Kingdom had put foot 
 on board a French ship. The table was laid for 70. 
 During the dinner the band of the Guides of the Im- 
 perial Guard performed various pieces. At dessert 
 the Emperor rose and proposed the following toast: 
 ' I drink to the health of her Majesty the Queen of 
 England, and to that of the Prince who shares her 
 throne, and to that of the Koyal Family. In pro- 
 posing this toast in their presence, on board the 
 French Admiral's ship in the port of Cherbourg, I 
 am happy to show the sentiments we entertain to- 
 wards them. In fact, facts speak for themselves, 
 and they prove that hostile passions, aided by a few 
 unfortunate incidents, did not succeed in altering 
 either the friendship which e.xists between the two 
 nations to remain in peace. Therefore I entertain 
 the sincere hope that if attempts were made to stir 
 up old resentments and the passions of another epoch, 
 they would break to pieces upon public common 
 sense, as the waves break upon the breakwater which 
 at this moment protects the squadrons of the two 
 empires against the violence of the sea.' 
 
 Prince Albert rose and spoke as follows : — 
 ' Sire, — The Queen desires me to express to your 
 Majesty how sensible she is of the proof of friend- 
 ship which you have just given her by proposing a 
 
 toast in her honor, and by pronouncing words 
 which will always remain dear to her. Your Maj- 
 esty knows the sentiments of friend.'hip which we 
 entertain towards you. Sire, and towards the press, 
 and I need not remind you of them. You are also 
 aware that the good understandingbetwcen our two 
 countries is the constant object of her desires, as it 
 is of yours. The Queen is, therefore, doubly hap- 
 py at having the opportunity, by her presence here 
 on this occasion, of joining you. Sire, in endeavor- 
 ing to strengthen as much as possible the bonds of 
 friendship between the two nations. That friend- 
 ship is the basis of their mutual prosperity, and the 
 blessing of Heaven will not be denied it. The 
 Queen proposes the Health of the Emperor and 
 Empress.' 
 
 After dinner their Imperial and Eoyal Majesties 
 went on deck to witness the fireworks. The band 
 of the Guides played aU the time on board the 
 Bretagne. 
 
 The Queen took leave of their Majesties about 
 half-past ten. The Emperor in person accompanied 
 her Majesty back to her yacht. At this moment all 
 the vessels were brilliantly illuminated, and a Roy- 
 al salute from the ships and forts announced the 
 termination of a festival favored by magnificent 
 weather, and which will leave never-to-be-forgotten 
 reminiscences in the minds of those who had the 
 happiness to be present. 
 
 The correspondent of the Times says that the Em- 
 peror has commenced a pyramid of granite, to be 
 erected at Cherbourg at the head of the dock, to 
 perpetuate the remembrance of Queen Victoria's 
 visit. 
 
 It is reported that the Emperor and Empress will' 
 pay her Majesty a private friendly visit at Osborne, 
 during the autumn. 
 
 The Gazette de France contains the following re- 
 marks on Prince Albert's speech : — 
 
 "We should have been better pleased had Prince 
 Albert announced that the Suez Canal would be 
 commenced, that Perim would be evacuated, and 
 that the English plenipotentiary would unite with 
 France in opposing the intrigues of Austria in the 
 Principalities. — When England talks of her friend- 
 ship, we feel inclined to ask for genuine proofs ; the 
 past authorises this want of confidence. Up to the 
 present moment, we have not succeeded in discov- 
 ering what France has to gain by the friendship of 
 England. 
 
 The Paris Correspondent of the Daily News says, 
 that the Emperor has decided that all France shall 
 join in a Te Deum at the moment when he and the 
 Empress are prostrate at the shrine of St. Anne, in 
 Brittany, on the 15th of August. The Imperial 
 commands are promulgated in a circular addressed 
 by the Minister of Public Instruction and Worship 
 to the Archbishops and Bishops. Detailed accounts 
 have not yet been received. More than 100,000 
 medals are to be struck at the mint to commemorate 
 the pilgrimage. 
 
 The introduction of bull-fights into the south of 
 France is denounced in the last annual report of the 
 French Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to 
 Animals ; and the public are called upon to aid in 
 their suppression. The society also reprobates the 
 iniquitous practice of sending worn-out horses to 
 the marshes for the nourishment of leeches. 
 
 The French people who dramatise everything, are 
 already preparing for the Boulevard du Crime a 
 drama founded on the Jeddah massacre. The last 
 act will wind up with the marriage of M Emcral 
 and Mad'Ue Eveillard ; M Emeral will receive the 
 appointment of successor to the young lady's mur- 
 dered father. 
 
 Large Fire at Paris. — A serious conflagration 
 took place on the 12th ult., at La Villette. It com- 
 menced in an extensive sawmill belonging to Messrs 
 Lombard Brothers, one side of which is on the Quai 
 de la Loire, and the other in the Rue d'Allemagne, 
 
 and it spread so rapidly that it quickly reached the 
 adjacent buildings and houses. The extent of dam- 
 age done has not yet been ascertained, but some 
 opinion may be formed of it from the fact that eight 
 warehouses were burned to the ground. Marshal 
 Magnan, the commander-in-chief of the army of 
 Paris, the Archbishop of Paris, and the Prefect of 
 Police, soon arrived at the theatre of the catastrophe. 
 Prince Napoleon came at midnight, and mounting 
 a high pile of wood, he at once formed an opinion 
 which prompted him to give orders to the firemen, 
 and it is said that the measures commanded by him 
 materially contributed tonic extinction of the flames 
 in several places. About thirty were more or less 
 hurt, but no loss of life is as yet believed to have 
 taken place. A soldier of the 79th regiment, who 
 assisted the firemen, is missing. 
 
 Australia and Ireland. — With feelings of in- 
 tense pleasure we publish a report of a large and in 
 every way successfnl meeting lately held in Australia, 
 having for its object the relief of the afflicted people of 
 Donegal. Honor and a nation's thanks to those faith- 
 ful Irishmen, and to thoseworthy men of other nations, 
 Englishmen, Scotchmen, and Australian?, who were 
 present, who so nobly responded to tbe cry for help 
 which has gone forth to wherever the Irish race has 
 found a home. Honor and undying gratitude to the 
 men who proposed and are putting into execution that 
 plan which will afford to the stricken brethern in Ire- 
 land, who are now being starved and cleared off their 
 native soil by a club or company of legal robbers, a 
 permanent shelter — some one spot on the face of 
 God's earth where they may be allowed to live, to toil 
 indeed, but then to reap the fruits of their own indus- 
 try—some spot where no saintly Nixon or improving 
 Hill shall come to claim their crops, to deprive them of 
 their food, to charge them for the very weeds and 
 brambles of the place, to strip them of their clothing 
 and take away from them even the cradles of their little 
 children. Honor to those good men in far Austtalia, 
 and success to the project of the new, and, in one sense, 
 better Donegal. The historic glories of the old country 
 will not be entirely left behind ; they will to some ex- 
 tent accompany the exiles, and be transferred to that 
 new ground beneath the Southern Cross, where future 
 generations of good patriots may yet make noble 
 history, may share in grand events, and give true 
 heroes to their country's cause, while they forget not 
 the dear old land of their fathers, and still cherish in 
 tale and song the names and the fame of O'Neill and 
 O'DonnelL But while we wait the completion of the 
 steps now being taken by our countrymen in Australia, 
 let us read the lesson which their action conveys. Our 
 people have not a government desirous or capable of 
 attending to their wants or rendering them simple jus- 
 tice — why should we not supply the need ourselves ? 
 In Australia and in America, where Irish people are 
 freer and Irish property is more secure than it is in this 
 country, societies h.tve been founded for the benefit 
 and protection of Irishmen and Irish interests. Is it 
 not fitting that we establish here on Irish soil a great 
 central organization for the advancement of similar 
 ends, one to which those societies in Ameria, Austra- 
 lia, and England may be affiliated, thus giving breadth 
 and force, and su«tainment to its operations? Assuredly 
 it is fitting, and the time is favorable. We have already 
 urged the subject on the attention of the public. Let 
 those who desire to see the idea realised now bestir 
 themselves, let each forward the good work as far as 
 his power goes, and it will be accomplished. [Dublin 
 Nation. 
 
 General Summary. — This military personage, 
 General Summary, to wit, is often .spokert of in the 
 papers. From the latest observations we are pre- 
 pared to affirm, or autumate that he is going into 
 winter quarters in order to prepare himself for a 
 spring into the same summery place out of which 
 he rushed a few days since, at a most unseasonable 
 time. 
 
62 
 
 IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 VARIOUS ITEMS. 
 
 BoY3 are like vimijar: whoa tlieru is much mother 
 in thiai they ure iilwavs sharp. 
 
 When vou have occiision to utter rcbuko, let yonr 
 words be soft, and your arjjuuioiits hard. 
 
 Punch snys it rrquircs an early start now-a-days 
 for a man to get around his wife. 
 
 Thb man who plants a birch tree little knows what 
 he is eonferrin); on posterity. 
 
 When does a cow become real estate 1 When she 
 is turmd into a field. 
 
 That government is stj]) the safest that makes trea- 
 son lau^hiilile. 
 
 The treasure of a wife's affection, like the grace of 
 God, is given, not bought. 
 
 He that can please nobody, is not so much to be 
 pitied, as he whom nobody can please. 
 
 A boy's rendition of a proverb — ' Spoil the rod and 
 spare the child !' 
 
 Why is a dandy like a piece of venison ? He is a 
 bit of a buck. 
 
 Why is an invalid cured by sea-bathing like a 
 confined criminal ( Because he is (sea) cured. 
 
 PEorLE who wish to lead peaceful lives should nev- 
 er "O to balls — for hops produce great bitterness. 
 
 An Irish writer spcakingof a lady's black eyes, says : 
 Thev were in mourning for the murders they had com- 
 mitted. 
 
 A FRIEND complained to a clergyman, of the length 
 of his discourse. ' Yes,' said the preacher, ' but I had 
 not time to make it shorter.' 
 
 Light which left a star of the twelfth magnitude 
 when the Israelites left Egypt, has not yet reached 
 the earth. 
 
 Some one remarks, that politicians make fools of 
 themselves ; pettifoggers make fools of others ; and 
 pretty girls make fools of both. 
 
 An auctioneer, vexed with his audience, said — ' I 
 am a mean fellow — mean as dirt— and feel at home in 
 this company.' 
 
 Men are bom with two eyes, but with one tongue, 
 in order that they should see twice as much a.s they 
 say. The same is also applicable to women and boys. 
 An Irishman being asked on a rainy day what he 
 would take to carry a mcss;ige from Kensington to 
 the Navy Yard, answered — I'd take a coach. 
 
 An editor in Iowa has become so hollow from de- 
 pending on the printing business alone for bread, that 
 he proposes to sell himself for stove-pipe at three cents 
 a toot. 
 
 A crRiODS freak of nature has been discovered at 
 Hightetown, N. J., in the shape of a log containing 
 three different kinds of wood— white-oak, maple and 
 
 hickory all grown together in the most perfect manner. 
 
 NoTHiNO is so difficult as the apparent ease of a 
 clear and glowing style. Those graces, which, from 
 their presumed facility, encourage all to attempt an 
 imitation of them, are usually the most inimitable. 
 
 'Ikever compl=tined of my condition,' says the 
 Persian poet, Sadi ; 'but once, when my feet were 
 bare, and I had no money to buy shoes ; but I met a 
 man without feet, and became contented with my lot.' 
 Take b company of boys chasing butterflies ; put 
 long tailed coats on the boys, and turn the butterflies 
 into guineas, and you have a beautiful panorama of 
 the world. 
 
 An Irish post-boy, having driven a gentleman a long 
 stage during torrents of rain, the gentleman civilly 
 said to him, ■ I'addy, are you not very wet V 'Arrah ! 
 I don't care about being very wet, but, please your 
 honor, I'm very dry.' 
 
 TitK Munstcr Bar entertained the Judges, Baron 
 Green and Justice O'Brien, at a sumptuous banquet 
 given in the new saloon of the Victoria Hotel, Cork. 
 Gkn. PiKUCF. and lady arc now in the south of 
 Franco, on their way to Paris. The distinguished 
 traveller will be the guest of the American minister 
 there, Mr. Mason. 
 
 Down East there resides a certain M. D. One very 
 cold night he w;is arouied from his sluiuber by a loud 
 knocking at the door. After some hesitation, he went 
 to the window and asked, ' Who's there 1' 'Friend.' 
 • What do you want V ' Want to stay hero all night.' 
 ' Slay there, then,' was the benevolent reply. 
 
 A Good woman is not thoroughly known before 
 marriage. Of how many sweet domestic virtues may 
 not she be pos.scssed, of which even he who values her 
 most highly is unaware, until he bos placed her in his 
 own mansion, to be the guardian angel of his house- 
 hold happiness. 
 
 ' How are you count V said a noted wag to a spruce 
 looking specimen of the genuine snob. ' Sir !' exclaim- 
 ed the indignant swell, ' who are you, and why do 
 you call mo a count V ' Why, I saw you counting 
 oysters in New York, last week, and I supposed you 
 were of royal blood,' said the wag. Snob vamosed. 
 
 A CHEERFUL facc is nearly as good for an invalid as 
 healthy weather. To make a sick man think that he 
 is dying, all that is necessary is to look half dead your- 
 self. Hope and despair are as catching as cutaneous 
 complaints. Always endeavor to feel sun-shiny, es- 
 pecially in a sick room, and look so, too. 
 
 In Chicago, on Friday last, a carpenter named James 
 McGee, was shot dead while at work, by a yo nng law- 
 student named Francis Bush. The murdered man 
 was in the employ of a man who was building a house 
 on a lot adjoining the residence of Bush's father, about 
 which there was a dispute relating to tresspass, and 
 young Bush threatened to kill those who committed 
 the tresspass. At the lime of the murder McGee was 
 standing on a ladder pulling off clapboards according 
 to his employer's orders. 
 
 A Frenchman's Pitt. — A group was standing to- 
 gether on one of the wharfs of New York, when a car- 
 man's horse backed into the river. The cart was got 
 out, but the horse was drowned ; and every one began 
 pitying the poor carman's ill luck. A French merchant, 
 of the name of Jumel, instantly took a ten dollar bill 
 out of his pocket, and holding it up, cried out, ' How 
 much you pity the poor man ? I pity him ten dollars. 
 How much you pity him V By this piece of wit he 
 soon collected seventy dollars, which were put into the 
 poor fellow's hat. 
 
 There was once a poor preacher, who supplied an 
 equally poor congregation, up somewhere in the woods, 
 under a contract to have so much rye for his year's 
 
 Jbrbold said to an ardent young gentleman, who 
 burned with a desire to see hiui.self in print, ' Be ad- 
 vised by me ; don't take down the shutters before 
 there is something in the window.' 
 
 Harpkh'h Cycloim^dia oi' Commerce has the fol- 
 lowing first rate notice of protection : — 
 
 ' Protection, in commercial legislation, means the 
 protection or bolstering up of certain branches of do- 
 niestiti industry by prohibiting the importation of the 
 produce of such branches from abroad, or loailing it, 
 when imported, with heavy duties. This policy was at 
 one time universally prevalent. But its extremely in- 
 jurious iuHucnce having been denioiiblrated over and 
 over again, it has been abandoned by all intelligent 
 statesmen. And notwithstanding the powerful inter- 
 ests by which it was supported, it has nearly disappear- 
 ed from our legislation ; and it will, no doubt, eventu- 
 ally disappear from the legislation of all countrtes.' 
 
 Writing for the Prkss. — The Philadelphia Bul- 
 letin, in an article on the amateur writers for the Press, 
 who are greatly disgusted when their favors are not 
 published, and who straightway console themselves by 
 questioning the motives of the editors, remarks : 
 
 There is no class of people more frequently sneered 
 at than editors. It is the easiest thing in the world to 
 chat ge them with being mercenary ; to say that such 
 and such an article was paid for; that anybody can 
 have anything praised or abused in a paper, if he will 
 pay for it, and says a wiseacre, every now and then, 
 ' If I had a newspaper here, wouldn't I pitch into this 
 or that, and wouldn't I show the Philndelphians what 
 an independent paper is Y Well, my friend and pitcher, 
 why not establish a paper and ' pitch into ' everything 
 and everybody ? Nobody can object to your doing so. 
 The papers that are in tlie habit of pitching into every- 
 thing are the easiest in the world. It is only well 
 practised and matured editors that possess that wis- 
 dom and that true independence which consists in re- 
 fusing to ' pitch in ;' that manliness which can with- 
 stand a public clamor, that can scorn personalities, 
 and c«n treat public questions with the dignity and so- 
 berness that can alone secure respect for the press. 
 
 We have had frequent illustrations of the mode usu- 
 ally adopted by the gentlemen who know so much bet- 
 ter than professional editors how a paper ought to be 
 conducted. They write us articles, every now and 
 then, and think they are doing us a favor. They send 
 them anonymously, as they do not wish to be held re- 
 sponsible to the public, but think editors, being such 
 brainless and soulless wretches, can be responsible for 
 anything. They may have a railroad, or a manufac- 
 turing or a financial speculation to promote by the pub- 
 Ueation of their articles, and because the editor refuses 
 to advertise it gratuitously and help it along by recom- 
 
 mending it to the public through his editorial columns, 
 preaching, if they saw fit to retain him for a year. He ! they think he is a poor, mean-spirited creature, totally 
 was very fearful" that he should get the sack prema- i wanting in independence ! There never was an article 
 turely, and did all he knew to fend off that appalling | rejected by an editor, without the writer's declaring 
 calamity— among other precautions, going round to I that the editor was a miserable wretch, who had no in- 
 the leading members of the congregation, to learn how | dependence, and only wanted to be paid to make him 
 his preaching suited them. ' Brethien,' said he, 'just publish anything, 
 tell me frankly how you like my doctrine ; and, if you 
 
 don't like it, tell me what doctrine I shall preach to 
 please you — for I must have that rye ?' 
 
 Female Pllck. — On one occasion during the 
 revolution, all the able-bodied men in Eastern Massa- 
 chusetts, had been summoned to Rhode Island, to 
 defend Providence and Newport against an anticipated 
 attack of the enemy. It was planting season, and the 
 
 John Dean. — Mr. Dean is not at all the offensive 
 looking fellow he has been pictured. On the contra- 
 ry he is a comely, smart, sober, well-dressed man, fit 
 to pass muster anywhere. His hair is black — not red, 
 as the sensationists who pen paragraphs for newspa- 
 pers state — and were it not for his accent he would pass 
 for an American. Mr. Dean thinks there would not 
 have been so much said about him were it not that he 
 
 year's crop imperilled by their protracted absence, 
 
 The pastor of the country church liling up to a farm- j is Irish ; hut he could not help it if he would, and 
 house one day, designing to pay a parochial visi', was I would not if he could. Mr. Dean went to Williams 
 met at the gate by a sturdy matron, equipped in her burgh in hopes of realizing that privacy for himself and 
 husband's frock and boots, with a hat on her head und lady, whiih after the unpleasant bruiting of their names, 
 In former times it was a maxim that a voung wo- a whip in her hand. Not far oft" stood the oxen yoked far and wide, they felt to be so desirable ; but even in 
 man should not ge't married until she had spun herself to a plough. 'My good woman,' said the astonished this, it appears, he ha-v thus fur been disappointed. At 
 a set of bodv and table hnen. From ihis custom all minister, 'whut does all this mean?' ' Mean ?' she all events, we trust no respecwble journal will after 
 rid w'omen were termed spin-,ters— an app.-lla- answered, with a stamp of the heel and a crack of the this give currtncy to any offensive statements m rela- 
 tion "hey still retain in England in all deeds and legal I whip. ' Lord North says we shall not plant, but I swear j tion to the Deans, for reaUy there is no warrant for that 
 
 ,. we will.' kind. 
 
 proceedings. ''* '*"'■ 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 63 
 
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 THE IRISH MISCELLANY 
 
 Inducements to Nkw Subscrirkrs. 
 
 OUR NEW VOLUME. 
 
 Having favorably commenced the second volume of our 
 publication, we seize the occasion ior the purpoise of ten- 
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 Since we have bad the control of the Sliscellany our way 
 basnot been — 
 
 'The primrose path of dalliance ' 
 
 We bave been beset by obstacles innumerable; but having 
 a strong contideuce in our ultimate success, we were deter- 
 mined to surmount all barriers, and though we have not, 
 as yet, brought the paper to that pitch of perfection which 
 is our desire, we trust soon to make it as acceptable as is 
 possible to our readers. 
 
 In beginning a new volume, we introduce various inno- 
 vations, tending to the improvement of the paper, in 
 every way that is possible. We shall give each week, an 
 epitome of Irish news— not the hacknied local quotations 
 which interest only the few, but eJttracts from the leading 
 journals, which will be gratifying to the many. In this 
 respect, we will not be following in the steps of any of our 
 contemporaries, but, on the contrary, will be striking out 
 a path eminently our own. It will also be our aim to give 
 the best class of wood engravings which can be procured, 
 portraying national subjects, and, as our outlay in this re- 
 spect will be infinitely largerthan that of any Irish journal 
 published in this country, we look for a commensurate re- 
 turn. In short, it is our intention to make the paper meet 
 the requirements of all classes of readers. 
 
 As an inducement, therefore, to new subscribers, we offer 
 to each person who will pay one years' subscription in ad- 
 vance, commencing with the first number of the first 
 volume, (not the second, as inadvertantly stated in previous 
 numbers,) directly to us or through any of our authorized 
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 Miscellany will form a book of four hundred and six- 
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 entire year's subscription. The same inducements are offer- 
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 • CLUBS! CLUBS!! CLUBS!!! 
 
 There is no town or village so small, but a club of six or 
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 Our terms will be — 
 To a club of six persons sent to one address, $10,00 
 
 To a club of twelve, 19,00 
 
 The whole of the money must invariably be sent at one 
 remittance, and in advance. * 
 
 In addition to this great reduction of price, each member 
 of a Club will be entitled to copies of all our splendid Gift 
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 patronage make the Miscellany the foremoat Irish journa 
 on this continent. 
 
 TRAVELLING AGENTS WANTED. 
 
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 earnest request of Ejany warm friends, who think we do 
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 ADVERTISEMENTS. 
 
 THE IRISH VINDICATOR, 
 
 A WEEKLY NEWSPAPER, 
 The Best amd Cheapest Published in America. 
 
 THIS splendid Paper, which is little overnine months 
 in existence, has met with the 
 
 MOST WONDERFUL SUCCESS, 
 
 and has been pronounced by the Press and the Public to be 
 superior to any other Irish Weekly in the United States. 
 
 It contains each week, the very 
 
 Latest News from every Coumty in Ireland ; 
 
 Original and entertaining 
 
 STORIES AND ANECDOTES, 
 
 and a variety of Miscellaneous Reading matter, of a charac- 
 ter which cannot fail to elevate and chasten the intel- 
 lectual appetite. The Irish Vindicator is devoted 
 
 TO THE INTERESTS OF IRISHMEN IN AMERICA, 
 
 and is so cheap as to be within the reach of the poorest. 
 
 ONLY THREE CENTS A COPY. 
 
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 To any part of Canada or the British Provinces, one year, 
 
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 Published every week, at the Office, No 10 Spruce street, 
 
 New York, by the Proprietors. 
 
 THE SOUTHERN CITIZEN, 
 
 IS published weekly at Knoxvillc, Tennessee, by JOHN 
 MITCHELL & WM. G. SWAN, at S2 per annum, or 
 $1 for SIX months, payable invariably in advance. 
 
 Mr. Mitchell having commenced in the 28th number ot 
 the paper, a series of Letters addressed to the Hon. Alex- 
 ander H. Stephens of Georgia, which when completed will 
 furnish an entire history ot 
 
 THE IRISH TROUBLES OF 1848, 
 
 With their Causes and Consequences, 
 
 The Southern Citizen will be the more interesting to both 
 American and Irish readers. Besides these contributions 
 from Mr. Mitchel, the Southern Citizen will continue to 
 have its usual quantity of original matter upon political 
 and literary subjects prepared by him. The circulation, 
 though large and constantly increasing, the proprietors 
 have thought will be much more extended by an announce- 
 ment in this form. 
 
 Communications with remittances may be addresedto 
 Mitchel & Swan, Knoxville, Tennessee, or to any of the 
 following Agents: 
 
 S G Courtenay & Co, Charleston, S C ; Thomas B O'Con- 
 nor, Savannah, Ga; J C Morgan, New Orleans, La; Jas A 
 Gentrv, Qichmond, Va; Alexander Adamson, Washington 
 city; Tallinage& Tunner, Cincinnati, O; PM Havertv, 110 
 Fulton street, N Y; S H Goetzel, 33 Dauphin street, aiobile 
 Ala; Benj B Davis, Masonic Buildin";, Montgomery, Ala; 
 Ross & Toucey, 121 Nassau street, N \, supply dealers only 
 upon reasonable terms; James McGinn, 121 Kearney street 
 San Francisco. 
 
 %* Clubs of ten will be supplied with the paper for ®15 
 
 WILLIAM K. O'BRIEN, 
 
 77 THIRD AVENUE, NEW TOKK. 
 
 — Manufacturer of— 
 LOOKING-GLASS, PORTRAIT 
 
 AND 
 
 PICTURE FRAMES, 
 
 Wholesale and Retail. 
 
 Oil Paintings and Engravings framed and varnished. 
 
 Orders promptly executed, packed and shipped to any part 
 
 my22 of the country. 3m* 
 
 DO'ROURKE, rcppectfullv informs bis triends and the 
 • public, that he keeps cnnstantlv on hand COFFINS 
 of all sizes and kinds, at his Cullin 'JIanufactory, No. 347 
 Federal, between Beach mid Kneuland Streets, Boston, 
 which he will sell as reasonable us can be bought at any oth- 
 er place in the city. 
 
 N. li.— Orders punctually attended to, day or night. 
 
 Residence, No. 28 South street, Boston. 
 
 {ET^Grave-Clothes furnished to order at short notice. 
 
 febia 
 
 PASSENGER CERTIFICATES. 
 
 TO OLD CitUNTRYMEN. Owen Mc Namaua has 
 Passage Certilicutes and Drafts always on hand and 
 for sale. As he does business for that most respectable 
 house. (Williams & (.uion) in New York. Old Countrymen 
 desirinff to send for their friends, or remit money, would 
 do wellto give him a call atNo.4GouHAM St.. opposite 
 Summer St., Lowell, Mass ap"*.; 
 
 BS. TKEvVNOR, A'iTURNEY ant> COUNSELLOR 
 • AT LAW, 16 Massachusetta Block, Court Square, 
 Boston. 
 
 [Cr'ParticuIar attention paid to Conveyancing, and the 
 examination of titles of Real Estate. febl3 
 
 ADVERTISEMENTS. 
 
 W. J. HENNESSY, 
 ARTIST, 
 
 No. 37 FRANKLIN STREET, 
 NEW YORK CITY. 
 
 FRANCIS GODFREY, 
 
 IMPORTER AND RESTORKU OF 
 
 ITALIAN PAINTINGS, 
 
 AND MANUFACTURER OF GILT FRAMES, 
 
 12 Franklin Stkeet, Boston. 
 
 DCr* Engravings, Lithographs, Crayons, fee, on sale 
 8m aug28 
 
 MERCANTILE AND WRITING SCHOOL, 
 
 E. J. GLEESOX, Mastek. 
 
 This School is now opened at No. 23 Poktlaitd Stkeet, 
 a few doors south of Dooley'e Exchange Hotel, where a 
 select and limited number of the Youth of both sexes will 
 be admitted ; time from 9 A. M. to 12 M., and from 2 P. il. 
 to 5 P. M. 
 
 TERMS MOBERA TE. 
 
 EVENING SGHOOL! 
 
 This school will be opened in the same place on the first 
 evening of next month, where adults and those of riper 
 years, will be carefully and assiduously instructed in the 
 various branches of learning, suitable to their calling. 
 
 BOOK-KEEPING : 
 
 Mr. Gleeson ventures to say, and pledges himself without 
 hesitation, that he will qualify young gentlemen for the 
 Counting Room, in half the time that is consumed in simi- 
 lar institutions in this city, and at considerable less ex- 
 pense. 
 
 August 17th, 1868. aug28 
 
 FINE READY MADE CLOTHING 
 
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 JOHN GLANCT Proprietor. 
 
 This House has rooms equal to any first claes Hotel, and 
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 nearly one half cheaper than at any other House in the 
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 an extensive Libra iiY, for the free and exclusi\e use ot 
 
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 i'eiiia 
 
64 
 
 IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 Markiaqe in Hion Life.— Baron Limbourg, tho 
 genilemiiDly Ambassador from tlie Nelherlands, and 
 Miss Cass, iluuglitor of the Democratic Secretary of 
 State, were united in holy matrimony Wednesday 
 
 Miss EsMONnE. — Wc are pleased to hear that this 
 gifted young lady is shortly to appear before a Bos- 
 ton audience, and give one of her highly intellectual 
 • Evenings with the Poets of Ireland." This will, 
 
 ttftc-rnoon. 25ih ult., by the Rev. Mr. Weston, rector of i we understand, be the last time that the people of 
 Calvarv Church, Stonington. Tho old gentleman ; this city will have the pleasure of listening to this 
 
 was present, and gave away the bride. The ceremony 
 was markeil, at least inside 'he sacr«d walls, by the 
 absence of all display — nuiet and plain, becoming to 
 sensible folk. The nuptials over, the party returned 
 for a little while to the Wadawaiink House. The 
 Ueneral in the meantime wended his way afoot to the 
 depot, where, soon after, came the happy bride and 
 bridegroom, on the route for Newport, and, after a few 
 minutes' conversation, he bid them a fatherly farewell. 
 
 Christiam Beskvoi.ence. — Tho congregation 
 worshipping in St. I'eter's churcli, Cambridge, pre- 
 sented Sunday week, i'lad ult., SUOU to their pastor 
 Kev. Mr. Uoherty, intended merely as their first instal- 
 ment towards the purchase of a Parsonage. The 
 amount would have been much larger, were it not that 
 they have been repeatedly appealed to by strangers 
 during the past year. Within that period they gave 
 for religious purposes, out of their own parish, over 
 twenty-three hundred dollars. The congregation is 
 chieBy composed of laboring men and women, who arc 
 principally domestics in American families. Their 
 church is a neat structure, composed of brick, and will 
 seat nearly 70O persons. Th-.- pew holders punctually 
 pay their dues quarterly, the society is but a few years 
 formed, and under the ministrations of their pastor, 
 has flourished almost unprecedentedly, reflecting un- 
 doubted credit to their humble and generous hearted 
 btnevolence. _ 
 
 The Atlantic Cable amply demonstrated to tho 
 most incredwious on the 26th ult. the complete revolu- 
 tion destined to be wrought by its use. 'jEleven day's 
 later news from Europe,' rushed npon the reader's 
 mind with marvellous effect, and now intelligence is 
 received daily from London. The following dispatch, 
 transmitted on Thursday last, and dated Trinity Bay, 
 25th, was the first general news sent to the daily pa- 
 pers : — 
 
 A Treaty of peace has been concluded with China, 
 in which indemnification has been secured to England 
 and France. 
 
 Later India news has been received, Bombay dates 
 to 19th July having reached England. The mutiny in 
 that country was being rapidly ([uelled. 
 
 The papers to-day have a long and interesting 
 report, by Mr. Bright, the Atlantic Telegraph Com 
 pany's engineer. 
 
 The steamship North America, the Canadian, and 
 the Asia, with the Boston mails, sail from Liverpool 
 on Saturday next. The steamer Fulton for Soulhamp- 
 toQ for New York on the same day. 
 
 London, Fridaj-, August 27. 
 The Emperor of France returned to Paris on Satur- 
 day. 
 
 The King of Prussia was loo ill fo visit Queen Vic- 
 toria, at Potsdam. Her Majesty returns to England 
 OB the .30ih inst. 
 
 St. Petersburg dales of 2lst inst,, state the conditions 
 of the peace settlement between England and France 
 and China. The Chinese Empire is to be open to all 
 trade ; — the Christian religion is to be allowed and re- 
 cognised;— foreign diplomatic agents are to be admitted 
 to the Empire ; and indemnity is to be made to Franc-e 
 and England. 
 
 A dispatch from Alexandria, of the 9th says, the 
 Steamer Madras arrived at Sui z on the 7th, with news 
 from Bombav to the I9th ol Julv. The Gwalior in- 
 surgent army, in India, has been broken up and much 
 progress has been made in the establishment of order 
 throughout all the distuibed districts. 
 
 No commercial news of any description has been 
 transmitted through the Cable yet, nor will any be 
 until after the line shall have been thrown open to the 
 public. 
 
 The only news dispatches thus far received through 
 
 lady, as she is about retiring from public life ; we 
 would therefore suggest that she be requested to 
 deliver her very able lecture in defence of Ireland's 
 poets against the slanders of the Scotchman Maekay, 
 which was received with such favor in New York 
 and the Western States. We trust our fair country- 
 woman will receive the welcome her talents deserve. 
 
 The Satukdav Evening Exfkebs.— Oar neigh- 
 bors, Messrs. Jones & Parker, at No. 2 Water street, 
 have just issued No. 1 of a large family newspaper 
 of 32 columns, filled with choice, sparkling original 
 and selected matter. The number before us is a guar- 
 anty that the readers of the paper will receive their 
 money's worth of intellectual pabulum, as we doubt 
 not the intelligent gentlemen who are its conductors 
 will strive to uiuke their juumal, what indeed it 
 promises to be, the^leading hebdomadal in New Eng- 
 land. The subscription price of the Express is only 
 S2 per annum, or five cents for single copies. 
 
 SOUTH END CATUOLIC BOOK STORE 
 
 And Depot for the Sale of the 
 
 METROPULITAS AND YOUTHS' MAQAZINMS. 
 
 WILLIAM KEATIXG, Aoknt, 
 
 8 1-2 Ilarrlsou Avenue, or at his New ferloilical Store, 176 
 
 Harrison Avenue, Itostoii. Mass., 
 
 Where a great variety of the mort popular Itooks and 
 
 W^'apers cam be liad at the very louesl prices, 
 ^L suiiply Clubs, Ap'nts, Cnuvassers, &o.. on the 
 same terms as the I'ublislieni. The following are 
 the terms— 3 copies will be sent by mail, to one flfldreiut, lor 
 one year S5 ; 6 copies for SlU ; 1^ copies for 820 ; 2U copies 
 for*80. 
 
 O" On the receipt of »3. three copies of the Cntliolic 
 Youth's MaKa/liic and one copy of the Metropolitan will 
 be mailed regularly for one year. 
 ITT" A few sets of the Slaguziiies from the bcglniilnK. can 
 
 lied 
 
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 soon as published. 
 
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 nine imported I'erfuniery and Fancy Goods. Soda 
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 aug28 
 
 CATHOLIC BOOK STORE. 
 
 WILLIAM HICKliY, Catholic Bookseller, and Agent 
 for the Kxtensivc rublishing House of D. & J. 
 Sadliek & Co., of New York. 
 The latest and most varied stock of Religious Erints, 
 
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 and all the Current Literature, constantly on hand. 
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 BOSTON, MASS. 
 
 the Cable "have been addres-ed to the Agent of the 
 
 Associated Press, New York. No special or private 
 
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 this Une to any other address, and none will be nntil than elsewhere in the market ; iu proof of which he invites 
 
 after the Cable will have been opened to the pabtic. ' purchasers to give him a call •"»!« 
 
 OLD COLONY HOUSE. 
 
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 rons and the public generally that he has constantly 
 on hand ut his old anil well-known stand, 
 
 THE OLD COLONY HOUSE, 
 
 CORySR OF KNEELANB A.\D SOUTH STREETS, 
 
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 BRANDIES, AVINES, SCOTCH & IRISH 
 
 AVIIISKEY', CIG.UIS, &c. &c., 
 
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 THE 
 MISCELLANY 
 
 aug28 
 
 Is published weekly, and devoted to the interests and vin- 
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 o( the old ' Dublin I'knny Journal,' with original and 
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 which may be enumerated engravings ol the ancient cas- 
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 plundered monasteries, convents and abbeys of Ireland. 
 
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VOLUME 2— NUMBER 31.1 
 
 BOriTON, SATURDAY, SEPTEMBER 11. 1858. 
 
 [PRICE FOUR CENTS 
 
 CORK AND ITS ASSOCIATIONS. 
 
 • The sweet city o' Cork,' as the ' natives ' denom- 
 inate it, has from time immemorial been the head- 
 quarters of Irishry, or rather the principal town in 
 it, for it has for many a day been an English strong- 
 hold,- and until the sudden growth of Belfast, it wag 
 the greatest, if not the only commercial town in Ire- 
 land. The name is said to be derived from Corough 
 or Curkey, an Irish word, meaning morass or swamp, 
 as the site was formerly a cluster of marshy islands, 
 often overflowed by the river Lee. Its identity with 
 that of the well known bottle-stopping wood, has 
 furnished materials for a great variety of jokes, some 
 of which Croker has recorded amongst graver mat- 
 , ter. One is told of Foote, who, on being asked, at a 
 convivial entertainment given by an Irish noblemaji, 
 if he had ever been at Cork, replied, 'No, my Lord, 
 but I have seen a good many drawings of it this 
 
 evening ;' another of Curran, who apologising to a 
 foppish companion for wearing a shabby coat, on 
 his return in the packet from England to Ireland, 
 said — ' I always make it a point to go to sea in a 
 ' Cork jacket.' ' 
 
 In the year 1600, Cork consisted of but one street, 
 like any Irish village of the present day, and -was 
 thus described by Camden. ' Enclosed within a 
 circuit of walls in the form of an egg, with the river 
 flowing round about it, and running between, not 
 passable through but by bridges, lying out in length, 
 as it were, in one direct broad street, and the same 
 having a bridge over it !' The river was not made 
 navigable in the south channel till 1670, and about 
 that time, the town, which, till then, was but a re- 
 ceptacle for provisions from the surrounding coun- 
 try, began to improve rapidly. The eastern marshes, 
 on which the best part of Cork now stands, were 
 
 drained, and a bowling green and pleasure garden' 
 established upon them ; but these were destroyed 
 by the Earl of Marlborough (afterwards Duke,) in 
 1690, when besieging the place. The fortifications 
 gradually decayed from this time forward, and were 
 replaced by useful buildings ; canals were arched 
 over, the marshy islands united with one another, 
 and the city assumed its present appearance, which 
 fully entitles it to the praises its inhabitants bestow 
 on it. But it was a long while before it became cel- 
 ebrated for its gaiety. Lord Orrery, in writing to 
 Dean Swift in 1736, drew a woful picture of its dul- 
 ness, a description which would now-a-days, we 
 hink, be applicable to no town in Ireland but Der- 
 ry. ' The butchers,' says he, ' are as greasy, the 
 Quakers as formal, the Presbyterians as holy and as 
 full of the Lord as ever ; all things are in statu quo ; 
 even the hogs and pigs grunt in the same cadence as 
 
 Sll-\XDON S'llCEl-l.E. CORK 
 
G6 
 
 llMSli .MISCKLLANY. 
 
 of yore, unfurninhcd with variety, and drooping un- 
 der the natural dulnes.i or the place ; materials fur a 
 letter arc as hard to be found as money, sense, hon- 
 esty, or truth." 
 
 To enliven the place a little, a theatre was opened 
 in 17(50, by Spronger Harry, and the lirst night was 
 signalized by a very uncommon occurrence. There 
 had been an execution that morning for robbery, 
 and the body of the culprit after lianRing for the 
 usual length of time, was cut down iind delivend to 
 his friends. One of the actors, named tJlover, hav- 
 ing a taste for surgery, and fancying the nw>n was 
 not dead, used means to rc.-torc animation, and 
 succeeded. Patrick Ue.lniond, fur such was the 
 name of the hapless wis'it, having indulged rather 
 freely in whiskey on the sjimc evening, in honor of 
 his restoration, went to the theatre, and on seeing 
 Uluver, rushed on the stage, to the terror of the an- 
 diencc, and thanked him publicly in the most up- 
 roarious manner. Even at this period Cock was 
 Timed for its handsome women, who made their ap- 
 pearance in the height of the mo;le, though London 
 was then nt a fortnight's distance, and Paris beyond 
 reach of all persons of moderate e.tppctations. There 
 were assemblies held once a fortnight, and smirtler 
 ones weekly, called drums, for admission to which 
 a trilling charge was made, and the company sang, 
 danced, walked, or played cards, without re^tr.iint. 
 
 No town in Ireland, Dublin alone excepted, will 
 bear comparison with Cork as regards the number of 
 historical reminiscences connected with it. Limerick 
 boasts itself the ' city of the violated treaty ;' Dcrry, 
 the 'maiden ciiy," as having sustained the ever 
 memorable siege, which Orangemen, in their cups, 
 to this day celebrate with jubilation ; but for a real 
 city of broils, and tumults, and wars, and rumors of 
 •wars, and changes, and revolutions, give us Cork. 
 It was here that Perkin Warbcek, the pcrsonator of 
 the murdered Duke of York, first made his appear- 
 ance upon the scene ; and the first who saluted him 
 king was John AVatley, a wealthy Cork citizen, af- 
 terwards mayor ; and when the impostor had been 
 balKed in England, bafllod in Scotland, and bafilod 
 in France, hither he returned to recruit his failing 
 fortunes, and hence he hurried to his doom in Lon- 
 don. This business caused Cork for the first time 
 to feel the effects of royal displeasure. Henry VII. 
 deprived it of its charter, but soon restored it, how- 
 ever. Towards the dose of the tificenth century, 
 Cork was a thriving place, bi& strange to say, the 
 citizens all intermarried with one another, for the 
 simple and cogent reason, that the whole of the sur- 
 rounding country being in possession of the Irish 
 clans, who treated the towns-people a.s Sassenachs, 
 the latter never dared to show their noses outside 
 the walls, much less go abroad for the purpose of 
 making love. During the great wars of Hugh O'Xeill, 
 in Elizabeth's reign, the inhabitants of all creeds. 
 Catholic as well as Protestant, continued faithful to 
 England; but when James I. succeeded to the 
 throne, they became insubordinate and dissatisfied, 
 being unwilling to be ruled by a Scotsman. The 
 Catholic party broke out into open rebellion, and 
 signified their abhorrence of the new dynasty by 
 burning all the bibles and prayer-books they could 
 lay their hands upon. Lord Slountjoy, however, 
 put an end to the tumult on his arrival in May, ICO'i, 
 and hanged the ringleaders. In the revolution of 
 1641, Cork adhered to the royal crtuse, even after it 
 had become desperate ; but as soon as Cromwell 
 made his appearance before it, it specdity surren- 
 dered, terrified by the • crowning mercies' which 
 that personage declared I'rovidence had bestowed ; 
 on the republican arms in other (luartera. On this | 
 occasion, Oliver, probably for the first time in his | 
 stern, rigid, and sanctimonious life, was pleased to 
 be facetious. But the joke he perji-'rated was grim, 
 severe, and sarcastic, as became the witticisms of a 
 general of the Coinmonwcallh. He had ordered 
 the church bells to be all taken down and converted 
 
 into sii'gc artillery. Tho clergy remont-trated, as did 
 also the citizens. He simply- remarked in reply ; 
 ' that since gunpowder wns invented l)y a priest, he 
 thought the best use for the bells would be to make 
 cannons (c.inons) of them." 
 
 Prince Uuperl proclaimed Charles II. at Cork in 
 Itili), but Ailmiral Ulake appearing in the harbor at 
 the head of u largo fleet, the inhabitants were over- 
 awed, and would have remained quiet, if they had 
 not been excited to resistance by the instigation of 
 Lord liroghill. In IGoo, under the parliamentary 
 regime, very severe laws were enacted against the 
 Catholics, none of whom were allowcrl to reside 
 within the walls. On the 18lh of May, IGGO, 
 Charles was again proclaimed, eleven days before his 
 restoration in England ; and during his reign, Cork 
 made rapid progress in trade and commerce, and 
 the (.Catholics once more regained the ascendancy in 
 the city. C;onsef)uently, when William of Orange 
 landed, it declared for Janiesrand in his interest re- 
 ceived a garrison of Irish troop*, and his adherents 
 maltreated the l*rotcstaiits, in which they were coun- 
 tenanced by James himself, when he made his ap- 
 pearance there. 
 
 The battle of the Itoyne did not discourage the 
 Stuart party, and they still held out, till William 
 sent a large force, under the Duke of Marlborough, 
 to reduce the town. He arrived in the harbor in 
 September, 1690, and the garrison surrendered a 
 week afterwards. The Duke of Grafton, a natural 
 son of Chailcs II., was killed during the siege, and 
 there were many romantic displays of valor on both 
 sides. One of these is worth recording. The be- 
 siegers, having seized the cathedral, posted two files 
 of musketeers in the steeple, for the purpose of gall- 
 ing the garrison of an old fort with their fire. They 
 succeeded so well, that the latter turned two guns 
 against the church, and the steeple soon began to 
 totter. The men in the tower got frightened, and 
 were preparing to go down, in spite of the remon- 
 strances of their oiKcer, Lieutenant Horace Town- 
 send, when he kicked away the ladder by which 
 they had ascended, and thus cut off all means of es- 
 cape. His gallantry met with its reward, for next 
 day the fort surrendered. 
 
 Some slight ebullitions of Jacobite feeling in 171-5, 
 aid again in 17-15, are the only political incidents 
 worthy of notice which have since taken place. 
 
 Rich as Cork is in historical reminiscences, in lit- 
 erary and artistic association^t is probably still 
 richer, if we may be allowed to include the county 
 with the city. Who does not know that it was in 
 the latter that the gentle author of the ' Faerie 
 Queen' lived, and loved, and labored, and fled in 
 the night from his burning homestead at Kilcolman, 
 with the yells of Tyrone's kerns ringing in his ears ; 
 thus paying the penalty of his Saxon origin, and be- 
 ing in no way respected for his poetical abilities, 
 which the clans were but ill prepared to appreciate ? 
 His ' View of the State of Ireland,' composed in his 
 retreat at Cork, is a faithful description of the coun- 
 try at that period, and abounds in acute observa- 
 tions, and sound criticisms on the men and manners 
 of the time. Three books, at least, of the ' Faerie 
 Queen ' were written in the same romantic retreat : 
 here, too, he was visited by Sir A\'alter Raleigh, the 
 'courtier, scholar, soldier,' and one of the warmest 
 of his friends. Raleigh had been commissioned in 
 1.530, in the army that was sent to repress the rebel- 
 lious Earl of Desmond, who was aided by Spanish 
 and Italian auxiliaries, and, during the summer of 
 1581, being left in command of the Queen's forces 
 by the Eail of Omiond, lay in the woods about Lis- 
 morc, and in the neigliborhood of Cork, carrying on 
 a partisan warfare with the insurgents, and occasion- 
 ally residing at Cork. It was at the close of these 
 troubles that Spenser came to Ireland, having -been 
 presi'nted by Elizabeth with tl ree thousand and 
 twenty-eight acres of the lands of the unfortunate 
 Desmond in the county of Cork, but on condition 
 
 that he should reside on his properly. When Raleigh 
 returned from his American voyage, he, too, took a 
 part in the ' Munster Plantation," by taking posses- 
 sion, under royal Utters patint, of twelve thousand i 
 acres of the conquered territory. The house in , 
 which he resided, and the garden in which he first 1 
 planted the potato in Ireland, are still shown to 
 the visitor at Youghal. On his return from the ex- 
 pedition against Spain and Portugal in 1589, hepa'd | 
 a visit to his estates, and saw Spenser i^ his shady i 
 retreat on the pleasant banks of the MuUa. The poet J 
 celebrated his friend's return by the poem entitled 
 
 • Colin Clout's come Home Againe," the dedication i 
 of which he dates from ' his house at Kilcolman." 1 
 
 It was in Cork that Pcnn, the great William Penn, '■ 
 first became a Quaker. The new society made their 
 appearance there about IC.5.5, and Penn, having at- 
 tended one of their meetings, was so struck by tho 
 homily preached by Thomas Lowe upon the theme, 
 
 • There is a faith that overcomes the world, and there I 
 is a faith that is overcome by the world," that he J 
 adopted the broad briius and straight collars on tTie 
 spot. 
 
 He did not escape the persecutions with which all 
 dissenters were visited at that day. He was arrest- 
 ed in 1667, with several others, and carried before 
 the mayor, who, however, knowing his father"s in- 
 fluence in England, offered to liberate him, if he 
 gave a bond for his future good behavior. Penn, 
 however, being of opinion that he could beliavehim- 
 self suflieiently well to satisfy the expectations of all 
 reasonable men without any bond at all, sturdily re- 
 fused, and was therefore committed to gaol. A man- 
 ly letter addressed to Lord Orrery procured his re- 
 lease, but eighteen of his companions in misfortune 
 were left to languish in confinement. During his 
 imprisonment, John Exham, another Quaker, an en- 
 fhusiastic disseminator of the new doctrines, and an 
 old soldier of Cromwell's army, walked through the 
 streets, clothed in s.ickcloth, and with ashes on his 
 head, preaching repentance and amendment of life. 
 The authorities, considering, we presume, that these 
 things were not so necessary as Exham imagined, 
 shut him up also, for a long period, but could not 
 damp his ardor. He lived till 1720, when he was 
 ninety years of age, and whenever he found himself 
 at liberty, persevered in his old course. 
 
 A host of other celebrities have in later times 
 made their appearance in Cork. Harry, liutts, Gro- 
 gan, and Cavanagh 5Iuri)hy, in the fine arts, and 
 15oyle. the famous Earl of Cork, in science, would 
 alone be sufHeient to render the place illustrious. 
 The writers who, in the columns of the Nation, in 
 ISIIJ and 184 1, poured forth so rich a stream of bal- 
 lad poetry, and shed lustre on the follies of the 
 O Connellite agitation, received some of their most 
 ardent and gifted recruits from the banks of the Lee. 
 And the city, too, was well beloved by the witty, 
 the humorous, the polished, and well-read Rev. 
 Francis Mahony, author of the ' Prout Papers," and 
 parish priest of Watergrasshill. This is a little vil- 
 lage, in the midst of bogs, and brakes, and dells, on 
 the coach-road from Dublin to Cork, and if wemls- 
 tako not — for it is now a long time since we travelled 
 it — the last stage before the end of the journey. 
 Stages are now done away with ; even llianconi's 
 cars — those capacious vehicles which in the olden 
 time swept the tourist through the south of Ireland, 
 are steadily receding before the mighty railway en- 
 gine, and Watergrasshill is relapsing into obscurity. 
 It is surrounded by the chosen home of elves, and 
 faiiiei, and goblins, and ghosts, the classic ground 
 of myth and legend; and here for many a year the 
 good father tended his flock, and amused the world 
 of London by his quaint disquisitions and squibs in 
 the pages of ' Eraser's Magazine.' He belonged to 
 the old school of parish priests ; well read in for- 
 eign literature, haters of broils, and lovers of jovial 
 companions and good wine. Peace to their ashes ! 
 In Father Prout, Cork lost a son who, in all bis wan - 
 
IRISn MISCELLAJ^y. 
 
 G7 
 
 ilerings, looked to her with fondness and regret. 
 The church of Slinndon, a very ccfnspicuous object, 
 came in for a huge sliare of his regard. It stands 
 ui)on the ruins of Old Slinndon Castle ; and the bel- 
 fry, with its beautiful peal of bells — built on one 
 side, strange tu say, of grey stone, and on the other 
 of red — is associated in the mind of every genuine 
 Corkonian with his dearest and tendorost recollec- 
 tions, oThis native place. Long ago, when Irish- 
 men were obliged to seek refuge daily in foreign 
 lands from the misery and ruin which reigned in 
 their own, a ballad was composed by some of the 
 exiles, beginning, 'Farewell to thee, Cork, with the 
 sugar-loaf steeple,' full of pathos and beauty, in 
 which Shandou tower received its due meed of hon- 
 or. Father Prout pays it a tribute no less exquis- 
 itely beautiful, in the well-known lines — 
 
 TUE BEtLS OF SUAXDON. 
 
 With deep aflcction and recollection 
 
 1 ot'teu thiuk of tliosc :Stiandou bells, 
 Whose souuds so*wild would, in dnjsof childhood, 
 
 Flnio round my cradle their mii^ic spells. 
 On this I ponder where'er 1 wander. 
 
 And thus grow fonder, sweet Cork, of thee; 
 With thy bells of iShandon, 
 That sound so grand on 
 The pleasant waters of the River Lee. 
 
 I 've heard bells chiminj!; full many a clime in, 
 
 Tolling sublime in cathedral shrine; 
 While at a glibe rate brass tongues would vibrate, 
 
 But all their music spoke nought like thiiie : 
 For memory dwelling on each proud swelling 
 Of thy belfry knelling its bold notes tree, 
 Made the bells of Sliandon 
 Sounds far more grand on 
 Tlie pleasant waters of the Kiver Lee. 
 
 I've heard bells tolling ' old Adrian's Mole ' in. 
 
 Their thunder rolling from the Vatican, 
 And cymbals glorious swinging uproarious 
 
 lu the gorgeous turrets of Notre Dame; 
 But thy sounds were sweeter than the dome of Peter 
 Flings o'ei'" the Tiber, pealing solemnly. 
 01 the bells of Shaudon 
 Sound far more grand on 
 The pleasant waters of the Kiver Lee. 
 
 There 's a bell in Moscow, while on tower and kiosko 
 
 In St. .Sophia the iurkman gets, 
 And loud in air calls men to prayer 
 
 From the tapering summit of tall minarets. 
 
 Such empty phantom I freely grant them; 
 
 But there 's an anthem more dear to me — 
 
 'lis the bells of Shandou, 
 
 That sound so grand on 
 
 The pleasant waters of the Kiver Lee. 
 
 With the mieniion of one other name we shall 
 conclude this notice ; but this is a greater one than 
 any — the late Father Mathew, of temperance celeb- 
 rity — who has worked so great a revolution in the 
 social habits of the Irish people. He was a native 
 of Thomastown, and was educated at Maynooth. 
 He took religious vows as a Capuchin friar, and en- 
 tered upon his labors at Cork. The frightful con- 
 sequences resulting from excessive whiskey drink- 
 ing amongst the peasantry struck him at once, and 
 he formed the noble resolution of devoting his whole 
 life and energies to the extirpation of this pernicious 
 habit. He commenced holding meetings twice a 
 week, in which he detailed to his hearers, in simple 
 but forcible language, how much evil their drinking 
 customs brough: upon them, and called upon them 
 to take the total abstinence pledge. This was ad- 
 ministered in the shape of a simple vow, dictated by 
 the father himself, after which he added, ' May God 
 give you strength to keep your resolution ;' at the 
 same time presenting the individual with a meda'. 
 His efforts were crowned with an almost marvellous 
 degree of success. Hi.s brother, a distiller on an ex- 
 tensive scale, was ruined by the movement, and the 
 worthy friar hUnself was impoverished by his phil- 
 anthropic labors. As a tribute to his worth, the 
 government settled on him a pension of £.'iOO a year, 
 but this, we believe, was barely .sufficient to pay the 
 premium of an insurance policy which he placed as 
 a security in the hands of his creditors. A monu- 
 
 ment was erected in his honor by his fellow-citizens, 
 but we regr6t to say, that, owing either to poverty 
 or apathy, it has never yet been completed. It 
 stands upon the Chai lotto Quay, near the Capuchin 
 church. 
 
 THE VENTRILOQUIST. 
 
 There were three men and a very handsome girl 
 loading an immense cart of hay. AVe walked on, 
 and at length this moving hay-stack overtook us. I 
 remember it well, with a black horse in the shafts, 
 and a line light grey one in the traces. We made 
 very slow progress ; for Naesmith would never cease 
 either sketching or stopping us to admire the scenery 
 of nature. 
 
 Indeed, our progress was so slow, that up came 
 the great Lothian peasant sitting upon the hay lash- 
 ing on his team, and whistling his tune. We walked 
 on, side by side, for a while, I think about half 
 a mile, when, all at once, a child began to cry 
 in the middle of the cart-load of hay. I declare I 
 was cheated myself; for, though I was walking 
 alongside of Alexandre, I thought there was a child 
 among the hay ; for it cried with a kind of half- 
 smothered breath, that I am sure tliere never was 
 such a deception practised in this world. 
 
 ' What is the meaning of this ?' said Terry. ' You 
 are smothering a child among your hay.' 
 
 The poorfellow, rough and hurley as was his out- 
 er man, was so much appalled at the idea of taking 
 infant life, that he exclaimed in a half articulate 
 voice : • I wonder how they could fork a bairn up to 
 me frae the meadow, an' me never ken !' And with- 
 out taking time to descend to loose his cart-ropes, 
 he cut them through the middle, and turned off his 
 hay, roll after roll, with the utmost expedition ; and 
 still the child kep^ crying almost under his hands 
 and feet. He was even obliged to set his feet on 
 each side of the cart for fear of trampling the poor 
 infant to death. At length, when he had turned 
 the greater part of the hay upon the road, the child 
 fell a crying most bitterly amongst the hay, on which 
 the poor fellow (his name was Sandy Burnet,) jump- 
 ed off the cart in the greatest trepidation. ' Od ! I 
 hae thrawn the poor thing ower !' exclaimed he. 
 ' I's warrant it's l^led ' — and he began to shake out 
 the hay with the greatest ( aution. I and one of my 
 companions went forward to assist him. ' Stand 
 back ! st.and back !' cried he. ' Ye'U maybe tramp 
 its life out. I'll look for it mysel'.' But after he 
 had shaken out the whole of the hay, no child was 
 to be found. I never saw looks of such amazement 
 as Sandy Burnet's then were. He seemed to have 
 lost all comprehension of evei-y thing in this world. 
 I was obliged myself to go on to the brow of the hill 
 and call on some of the haymakers to come and load 
 the cart again. 
 
 Mr. Scott and I stripped off our coats, and assist- 
 ed, and, as we were busy loading the cart, I said to 
 Sandy, seeing him always turn the hay over and 
 over for fear of running the fork through a child, 
 ' What can hae become o' the creature, Sandy ?— for 
 you must be sensible that there was a bairn among 
 this hay.' 
 
 ' The Lord kens, sir,' said Sandy 
 
 ' Think ye the lasses are a' safe enough an' to be 
 trusted ?' said I. 
 
 ' For any thing that I ken, sir.' 
 
 'Then where could the bairn come frae?' 
 
 'The Lord kens, sir. That there was a bairn, or 
 the semblance o' ane, naebody can doubt ; but I'm 
 thinking it was a fairy, an' that I'm hauntit.' 
 
 ' Hid you ever murder any bairns, Sandy ?' 
 
 ' (Jh no ! I wadna murder a bairn for the hale 
 world.' 
 
 •But were ye ever the cause o' any lasses murder- 
 ing their bairns :' 
 
 ' Not that I ken o'.' 
 
 ' Then where could the bairn come frae f — for you 
 are sensible that there is or was a bairn among your 
 
 hay. It is rather a bad looking job, Sandy and I 
 wish you were quit of it.' 
 
 ' I wish the same, sir. But there can be nae doubt 
 that the creature among the hay was either a fairy or 
 the ghaist of a bairn, for the hay was a' forkit off 
 the swathe in the meadow. An' how could ony body 
 fork up a bairn, an' neither him nor me ken ?' 
 
 We got the cart loaded once more, knitted the 
 ropes firmly, and set out; but we hadnot proceeded 
 a hundred yards before the child fell a-crying again 
 among the hay with more choaking screams than 
 ever. ' Gudcness have a care o' us ! Heard ever 
 ony leevin the like o' that ! I declare the creature's 
 there again!' c*ied Sandy, and flinging himself from 
 the cart with a summerset, he ran off, and never once 
 looked over his shoulder as long as he was in our 
 sight. W ; were very sorry to hear afterwards that 
 he fled all the ways info the highlands of Perthshire, 
 where he still lives in a deranged state of mind. 
 
 ' We dined at ' The Hunter's Trystc,' and, spent 
 the afternoon in hilarity ; but such anight of fun 
 as Monsieur Alexandre made us I never witnessed 
 nor never shall again. The family at the inn consist- 
 ed of the landlord, his wif,', and her daughter, who 
 was the landlord's step-daughter, a very pretty girl, 
 and dressed like a lady ; but I am sure that family 
 never .spent an afternoon of such astonishment and 
 terror from the day they were united until death 
 parted them — though they may be all living yet, for 
 any thing that I know, tor I have never been there 
 since. But Alexandre made people of all ages and 
 se.xes speak frinn every part of the house, from un- 
 der the beds, from the basin stands, and from the 
 garret, where a dreadful quarrel took place. And 
 then he placed a bottle on the top of the clock, and 
 made a child scream out of it, and declare that the 
 mistress had corked it in there to murder it. 'I'he 
 young lady ran, opened the bottle, and looked into 
 it, and then losing all power with amazement, she 
 let it fall from her hand and smashed it to pieces. 
 He made a bee buz round my head and face until I 
 struck at it several times and had nearly felled my- 
 self. Then there was a drunken man came to the 
 door, and insisted in a rough, obstreperous manner 
 on being let in to shoot Mr. Hogg ; on which the 
 landlord ran to the door and bolted it, and ordered 
 the man to go about his business for there was no 
 room in the house, and there he should not enter on 
 any account. We all heard the voice of the man 
 going round and round the house, grumbling, 
 swearing, and threatening, andall the while Alexan- 
 dre was just standing with his back to us at the 
 room-door, always holding his hand to his mouth, 
 but nothing else. The people ran to the windows to 
 see the drunken man go by, and Miss J ane ventured 
 to the corner of the house to look after him ; but 
 neither drunken man nor any other man was to be 
 seen. At length on calling her in to serve us with 
 some wine and toddy, we heard the drunken man's 
 voice coming in at the top of the chimney. Such a 
 state of amazement as Jane was in I never beheld. 
 'But ye need nae be feared, gentlemen,' said she, 
 ' for I'll defy him to win down. The door's boltit 
 an' lockit, an' the vent o' the lumb is nae sae wide 
 as that jug.' ^ 
 
 However, down he came, and down he came, un- 
 til his voice actually seemed to be coming out of 
 the grate. Jane ran for it, saying: — 
 
 ' He is winning down, I believe after a'. He is 
 surely the deil !' 
 
 Alexandre went to the chimney, and in his own 
 natural voice ordered the fellow to go about his 
 business, for into our party he should not be admi- 
 ted, and if he forced himself in he would shoot him 
 through the heart. The voice then went again 
 grumbling and swearing up the chimney. We ac- 
 tually heard him hurling down over the shates, and 
 afterwards his voice dying away in the distance as 
 he vanished into Mr. Trotter's plantations. 
 
 The world knows nothing of its greatest men. 
 
68 
 
 IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 
 RUIXS OX DEVENISH ISLAND, LOTJGH EBNE. 
 
 ISLAND OF DEVENISH.I 
 
 Ireland has had to complain of many things ; bat 
 of none so much, perhaps, as that Irishmen are so 
 much wanting to themselves and to their country. 
 Their fatherland presents much to interest the inquiring 
 traveller in its varied surface and its ' many-colored 
 life," in the strongly contrasted lights and shades of 
 its society, and in its cities and cultivated plains, which 
 present beauties of art and nature, that may vie with 
 those of any other country. 
 
 The woods and lawns and island-studded lakes pre- 
 sent many a charm ; but, alas ! they remain almost 
 unknown, 'carent quia vate sacro !' England has the 
 philosophic annalists of her smilling plains and 
 anciont towns : she has the poets of her lawns and 
 rivers. Scotland can exult in her gifted sons, who 
 have made her romantic land known to fame : she 
 may especially, while she laments, exult also in her 
 admirable novelist and poet, who has celebrated and 
 made accessible her picturesque mountains, her beau- 
 teous and storied lakes. But a few years since, and 
 the most striking beauties of Scottish scenery were 
 known only to the secluded highlander and wild moun- 
 taineer, or to the venturous traveller, who feared not 
 danger, and disregarded toil. 
 
 At length the Northern Winstrel attuned his lyre to 
 sing these beauties, or interweave them with the win- 
 ning tale, and straightway not only the reader, who 
 could feel the power of his compositions, and could 
 enjoy truly the scenes he drew so well, hastened by sea 
 and land to see, but even the tasteless learned to affect 
 an admiration of the beauties set before them, and the 
 country, till then in a great part accessible only to the 
 pedestrian, was thrown open to th(^luxurious lounger 
 in the fashionable barouche*. 
 
 Sir \V. Scott may justly have felt pleasure in having 
 produced this effect by his writings; and Scotland may 
 well take pride in her Wizard Minstrel. But who has 
 done — who will do so much for Ireland ? Our poets 
 early leave their native land, and with it seem to leave 
 behind them all feeling for, or remembrance of it. He, 
 of whom we boast especially as our poet, has ranged 
 the wide varied climes and kingdoms of the Eastern 
 world in search of subjects for his muse. He has 
 wandered through Egyptian land, and threaded the 
 windings of its wondrous buildings : he has winged his 
 flight heaven-ward, and caught the view of Peris and 
 Angels, and sung their fortunes. But while thus 
 ranging sea and land and earth and heaven, he over 
 
 looked the glories, — or if he will, — the sorrows of his 
 country — he seemed to show the honors that irradiated 
 the ancient name of Ireland, and, if we may judge from 
 this neglect, we may conclude he would gladly forget 
 it. He has indeed written a few songs, but they are 
 snch as, a very few excepted, 4hat they had better 
 have remained unsung: nor are songs the kind of verse 
 from which a man would make fame to himself, or 
 honor to his country. And yet Ireland can show him 
 many interesting traditions, as subjects for a poem, and 
 her lakes and hills many attractive scenes to transfer 
 to his verses, and become their ornament. 
 
 The island, which furnishes the subject of the draw- 
 ing, prefixed to this essay, presents, as the drawing 
 shows, some attractive olgects for the antiquary, and is 
 itself part of a beautiful portion oi Lough Erne scenery. 
 For many years past, our Irish tourists have gone in 
 crowds to visit the lakes of Cumberland, and a Cum- 
 berland gentleman familiar with those lakes from his 
 infancy, declared on seeing Lough Erne, that he con- 
 sidered it equal in beauty to any of his own. 
 
 The island of Devenish in this lake is not in itself 
 very remarkable for picturesque beauty. Its soil is so 
 very fertile, that it has been asserted, that no manure 
 bad l)een applied to it for many years preceding. A 
 popular writer of the present day, who has published 
 very interesting sketches of India and lively ' reminis- 
 cences of the Peninsula' (he is not an Irishman) has 
 introduced this island into ' a Story of a life.' Per- 
 haps he will see this publication of ours, and when he 
 finds notice taken of this 'Story,' and a statement in 
 it respecting this island denied, it is hoped he will not 
 he offended. When an Irishman takes up metapho- 
 rical cudgels, and his adversary is at a safe distance, it 
 is expected, no uneasiness will arise. 
 
 The writer in his wild and interesting Story, in the 
 character of a lady, writes thns — ' There is a large and 
 beautiful lake in my dear native land, called Lough 
 Erne. Islands innumerable stud its silvery bosom.' 
 ' One only spot in the whole scene had any aspect of 
 gravity and sadness.' ' This small island, called 
 Devenish, lay not very distant from that part of the 
 main shore, on which stood our pretty mansion. It 
 had a deader, duller and paler look than any of the 
 other islets on the lake. The herbage was thinner and 
 coarser, and more sand was mingled with the soil.' 
 
 Now to this description, those who know the island 
 and its real chara ter, will immediately demur. The 
 soil is, as has been already said, remarkably fertile, and 
 
 therefore far from deserving such a description. It is 
 true, the description is supposed to be given hy a 
 female with her mind much prepossessed by the gloomy 
 tales of a croning old nnrse. 
 
 Bat the writer had actually seen the island, had 
 surveyed it in its length and breadth, (which, by the 
 bye, are not very great) had noted its ruined priory, — 
 ' the very tall round tower, which reared its grey 
 columnar form, like a monumental pillar.' He has 
 pointed out too as worthy of observation ' the curious 
 old relic among the weeds, a long narrow ccfSn ofsicne 
 long without a tenant.' He notices the virtues tradi- 
 tionally ascribed to this relic ' as a prophetic touch- 
 stone whereby we may learn our present and future 
 fate, and is for this much boasted by the old peasant- 
 chroniclers : and guidfd by the legend, they, who dare, 
 it is said, may read of their future weal or w oc ly lying 
 down in it, as it fits or otherwise, and according to the 
 postures, in which they lie and turn in it, so read they 
 of their doom.' 
 
 It is plain, that the writer has seen and examined the 
 island. We may allow a young lady, who perhaps is 
 not much of a farmer, to underrate or misjudge a piece 
 of ground, especially if she happen to have been reared 
 by an old croning nurse, and if — to crown all — she be 
 in love — and that unhappy love. But the writer was 
 not obliged to describe the island so. He could have 
 disposed his materials as he pleased. He could, if he 
 chose, have made the lady a very good farmer, and 
 particularly skilled in the mysteries of the dairy, and 
 then she could consistently have noticed and admired 
 the richness of the soil, notwithstanding the profundity 
 of her love and sorrow. 
 
 Perhaps another edition will profit by this hint, and 
 the mistake will be corrected. — Verb : sap. 
 
 It is however a venial fault : it is found in a work of 
 fancy, in which the writer may have considered him- 
 self privileged to follow the leadings of his own lively 
 imagination. But can we so gently dismiss from our 
 reproof the sober antiquary, the man of line and rule, 
 of note book and pencil, whose boast it is, that ' What 
 Time forgets, he's sure to learn V 
 
 An improved edition— and notwithstanding some 
 faults, an improved edition it was — of Guthrie's geo- 
 graphy was published in Dublin about 1780. The 
 enlargements were made chiefly in what concerned 
 Ireland. Now here is bis addition respecting this 
 island : 
 
 ' Nearly two miles below Enniskillen lies the Island 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 69 
 
 of Devonisli : it contains near 200 acres of the richest 
 land in tho country, ami is reinarkvhlo for possessing 
 one of tlio complotest round towers in Ireland. This 
 round tower is built of blacic stono cut into hloelcs, 
 which seemed unitjd indjpjndjnt of centicnt. There 
 is also on this island the ruin of an ancient church, an 
 object generally found to accompany these towers. 
 There are the ruins of three churches, and this, by- 
 tho-bye, whether tho towjrs are the accompaniment to 
 the churches, or tho churches to tho towers, is a ques- 
 tion not yet decided. Gjneral opinion seems to boar 
 to the opinion, that the towers are the appendage. 
 However that may be, if thojwriter meant the ruin, the 
 drawing of which accomp.inies this, the observation 
 was incorrect. The tower was bnilt — we know not 
 when, except that it must have been in a time far 
 remote : and the priory was erected in a time compa- 
 ratively modern, viz. A. D. 1449. This date appears 
 with other circumstances cut in relief on a stone, which 
 i s built into the wall of the priory-tower. The other 
 mistakes in the quoted passage m.iy be bast corrected 
 by 8 plain statement of the actual dimensions of the 
 island, and by a brief detail of what concerns the 
 tower. 
 
 The island contains between 70 and 80 Irish acres. 
 Viewed from the water in some points it presents an 
 oval outline in the gently swelling and sloping 
 grouid, of that description, which so frequently meets 
 and pleases the traveller's eye in the county Down 
 and which gave rise to the well-known homely, yet 
 apt comparison of the hills in that county to eggs laid 
 lengthways in a bowl of salt. This is the only beauty 
 the island possesses ; and either from neglect, or from 
 the great value of the land, the island is utterly naked 
 of planting. 
 
 The tower is indeed one of the mostt beautiful — 
 p erhaps, the most beautiful in Ireland. Its stone work 
 is complete even to its top-stone — and that — we may 
 say — without any thanks to the proprietor. That 
 stone is now, and has been for some years toppling to 
 its fall. 
 
 Some seeds of the elder have been borne to the sum- 
 mit of the tower by the wind ; there they took root and 
 flourished. The effect on the stones has been to dis- 
 place them very much, and, if soma steps be not taken 
 to preserve the interesting structure, it will in a few 
 years be added to the numerous ruins. 
 
 The outline of the tower is beautiful. The stones, 
 of which it is built, were accurately cut in the external 
 and internal end to the curve, according to which the 
 tower is constructed. The summit, or cap, is built of 
 accurotely cut stones laid on in diminishing series, till 
 it is crowned by a single stone fashioned to a cone. 
 The stones of the structure are cemented with mortar ; 
 but the quantity of cement laid in is so small, that an 
 accurate and close inspection is necessary to discern it 
 The stones are not black. The author of 'A Story' 
 well and briefly depicts the effects of the weather on 
 their outer surface, when he speaks of tho 'grey colum- 
 nar form,' of the tower. The stones are a light brown 
 sand-stone found in that neighborhood, and most ex- 
 cellently adapted for building ; as it can be cut to any 
 scantling, and it hardens with the weather, 
 
 The cornice is divided into four parts, and the points 
 of division marked by four carved heads, which look 
 to the cardiudl points. Each division is neatly wrought 
 with a carving peculiar to itself. There are several 
 windows, or openings in the tower, four close under 
 the cornice and ;)ieir places marked by the carved 
 heads ; and others at different distances below them. 
 Within about seven feet from the ground there is an 
 opening evidently intended for a door-way; it is about 
 four feet high, and has on the inner jumb on the left, 
 hand side an iron hinge strongly fastened into the stone. 
 At a small distance above there is a fractured spot 
 indicating the place, where the corresponding hinge 
 had been. 
 
 A few years since an attempt was made to ascertain 
 the height of the tower. From observation the height is 
 supposed to be about 90 feet : the circumference at the 
 baae is 48 feet. 
 
 The roina of the Priory were even a few years back 
 
 much more extensive than they are at present. But 
 Turks are not tho only people, who pull down and 
 destroytho interesting remains of the olden time. Tho 
 lads ot; the neighboring town, ifj report speaks truth, 
 have shown much activity in clearing away walls and 
 fallen masses, that in their judgement perhaps encum- 
 bered the ground. Old Time has been to them a mere 
 child in the work of devastatio n , 
 
 The Statbn Island Men. — The New York papers 
 of last week contain long accounts of the destruction 
 of the quarautine buildings on Staten Island, and the 
 consequent loss of life. The riot undoubtedly grew 
 out of the determination to get rid of the quarantine 
 buildings in the locality where they wjro placed, a t 
 whatever cost, from the belief that there was danger to 
 the inhabitants from the vicinage of hospitals for the 
 cure of infectious diseases. If this was the case, there 
 is far more cause of alarm now than prior to the des- 
 truction of the buildings, as many persons prudently 
 detained in quarantine, because coming from places 
 seriously afflicted by the pestilence, are let loose in 
 tho community. As usually happens, the mob has 
 overreached itself. The New York press are unani- 
 mous in condemning this lawless outbreak. The 
 New York Commercial remarks:^ 
 
 'During the past two nights events have occurred 
 within sight of this great city of commerce and 
 wealth, which may well create alarm in the breast 
 of every citizen who has any property at stake and 
 any interest in the supremacy of law and constitu- 
 tionally defined government. The same practical 
 disregard of law and contempt of order which, 
 under the cloak of superior admiration of law and 
 order, overthrew the government of San Francisco 
 and New Orleans, has in a neighboring county de- 
 fied the law of the state, openly destroyed its prop- 
 erty and that of private citizens, and perilled the 
 lives of women and children and the sick and dying, 
 under a similar cloak, and to the popular cry of 
 'abating a nuisance.' Private citizens, without a 
 shadow of authority from any source whatever, 
 have done this, trusting that the popular sentiment 
 will screen them from the consequences of their 
 crime as it has done on a former occasion; and if 
 the security from punishment has produced such 
 fruit, what will be the eiTeet hereafter if the perpe- 
 trators of this outrage *gain escape unrewarded ? ' ^ 
 
 On the ClimaA; of Ireland. — It is a well 
 known fact that the variation of climate is not entirely 
 owing to the distance at which a country is situated 
 from the Equinoctial line; for had such been the case, 
 places lying at a considerable distance from it could 
 not be hotter than others which are some degrees 
 nearer. 
 
 To account for the great difference of our climate, 
 we must suppose Ireland to be a vast mountain, the 
 apex of which runs in a winding direction nearly 
 across the entire island ; leaving (or nearly so) the 
 province of Leinster and Connaught on the south side, 
 and that of Ulster on the north. Though the largest 
 mountains, when compared to the size of the globe, are 
 but mere hillocks, yet it is evident that the side facing 
 the sun must be hotter, and consequently more fertile 
 than the opposite one ; for the mountain, along with 
 shading its south side from the nipping blast, with- 
 holds the sun's rays from falling upon that of the 
 north. In order to make this better undestood, let 
 tho reader divide eight equally, then take one from one 
 of the quotients, and add it to the other, and he \Vill 
 have five in one of them, and only ihreo in the other, 
 which is, perhaps, less than the difference produced by 
 the mountain on its sides. 
 
 What I have now stated is hut mere conjecture, as I 
 never had tho opportunity of laying a foot on any of 
 the above named provinces, yet, perhaps, the course 
 of our large rivers is sufficient for the bold remark. 
 
 He that hinders not a mischief when it is in his 
 power, is guilty of it. 
 
 MY GENTLE ISABEL. 
 
 From Eichard the Second, in Trison, to his Queen Isabella, 
 
 in France. 
 
 BV MHB. CltAWFOKD. 
 
 Air — 'Gramachree.' 
 They told me thou wert changed, and smiled 
 
 On otlierH more tlian rae, 
 And haply 1 hud been beguiled 
 
 To think thut such might be,— 
 But that a voice within my breast 
 
 Did plead thy cause HO well, 
 As put to silence all the rest, 
 
 My gentle Isabel. 
 
 It told me spirits chaste as thine 
 
 Were chary of their love,— 
 Too delicate, too purely fine. 
 
 Like common minds to rove; 
 And therefore 't is I love thee so. 
 
 As words but poorly tell ; 
 Ah I who like me thy heart can know, 
 
 My gentle Isabel. 
 
 Then let them tell me what they will, 
 
 ' I '11 never more believe; 
 
 As fragrant flowers their balm distil, 
 
 So memory shall leave 
 So rich and sweet account of thee 
 
 ' As will forever dwell. 
 When thou art far away from me. 
 My gentle Isabel. 
 
 Cautions in Visiting Sick Rooms — Never 
 venture into a sick room if you are in a violent per- 
 spiration, (if circumstances require your continuance 
 there) for the moment your body becomes cold, it is 
 in a state likely to absorb the infection, and give you 
 the disease. Nor visit a sick person, (especially if the 
 complaint be of a contagious nature) with an empty 
 stomach ; as this disposes the system more readily to 
 receive the contagion. In attending a sick person 
 place yourself where the air passes from the door or 
 window to the bed of the diseased, not betwixt the 
 diseased person and any fire that is in the room, as the 
 heat of the fire will draw the infectious vapor in that 
 direction, and you would run much danger from 
 breathing it in. 
 
 Bishop Lynch. — A fdw days since the Bishop of 
 Charleston reached this city, on his return from Cin- 
 cinnati, having under his protection si-xUrsulino Nuns, 
 who are to be located in his diocese, at Columbia, the 
 capitol of South Caiolina. During their brief stay 
 amongst us, the Ursulines were hospitably entertain- 
 ed by the Carmelite Nuns, in their convent. The 
 Bishop preached last Sunday in the Cathedral to an 
 attentive audience. On Monday the whole party took 
 passage for Charleston by the Bay route. We are 
 glad to add that thsy were all in the enjoyment of ex- 
 cellent health. [Catholic Mirror, Baltimore. 
 
 Arrival of the (jalway Steamer, — Iri i 
 steamship Propeller, Captain Thacher, from Qalway 
 21st ult., via St. Johns, N. F,, 30th, arrived at .this 
 port Friday afternoon. She brings a small amount of 
 merchandise and thirty-eight passengers. This is the 
 first steamer of the new Galway line that has touched 
 at this port. 
 
 The Rev. Eleazer Williams, who has lately claimed 
 to ho ' The Dauphin,' died at Hogansburg, Franklin 
 County, New York, on the 28th ult. A writer in the 
 Journal of Commerce, who visited the home of the de- 
 ceaced, thinks there'is "no doubt that he suffered at 
 last from the want of attention and the necessaiies of 
 life. 
 
 Madame le Vest, of Mobile, is at present sojourn- 
 ing with her family at the St, Nicholas Hotel. Derby 
 & Jackson are about publishing a new volume of her 
 Souvenirs of Travel, with a portrait. 
 
 A Brussels paper says : "Dr. Andre Schleier- 
 macher, one of the greatest scientific notabilities of 
 Germany, died suddenly at Darmstadt, on the 11th 
 inst." 
 
ro 
 
 IRISJI iMlSCELLANY. 
 
 The Piit»ician'8 Last Vi»it. — 1 niisoil ilic iniin'- 
 led raiipcr aiiJ kiioi'ktd p iilly iit iliu Imll-Uoor, nlnili 
 was soon opeiicil li_v ii vnuiin r<;iiii\!i', who, in answrr 
 to my iiiipiifi'S, iiiruniuil mil' iIiiu Mrs Soniirvillt had 
 not lifi hir il.iii:;hior's npiirinii'm hince my hut visit 
 1 ihi n |iiis.scil i|uii'kly across thi; Imll, ami having ns- 
 cindi'd the slair nisi-, which I liiul so ofien trod in hope- 
 less anxiety, reached the door of tlie poor invalid's 
 rhamber. Here 1 hesilatcil awhile ; a solemn siillncss 
 interrupted ai intervals hy a short convulsive >ol>, per- 
 vaded all. After a few moments of gloom; rcfliction 
 on the scene which 1 was ahout to witness, I entered 
 softly, and having advantvd to ihe foot of the bed, 
 cautiously driw aside the curtain whieh oliscured the 
 fading brilliancy of those eyes that were fast closin;; in 
 eternity. Kever, never i»n 1 forget the picture of 
 intense anguish which was then placed before me ; as 
 the distracted moiher firmly grasped the cold and 
 clammy hand of her dying cliild ; who, in return gazed 
 on her alliicicd parent wiili that serenity and calmness 
 of countenance, whieh so forcibly characterizes the 
 dying Christian. Alas ! what a contrast thought I, 
 was then before me. The one deeply Inmcniing tlie 
 premature deparinre of an earthly comfort, and the 
 other looking f irward with a mixture of joy and meek- 
 ness, to the blisses of an everlasting world. 
 
 Soon was this wondeiful scene interrupted by my 
 appearanee ; as Mrs. Somerville, on seeing me rose 
 from the bed-side and advanced towards mo. 
 
 ' I fear. Doctor,' said she, in a low stilled tone of 
 voice, ' all is over with my poor child !' 
 
 ' Yes, ma'am,' I replied, ' the terniiiiation of her 
 protracted sutlerings is fast approaching.' 
 
 ' Well, then,' said she, with an apparent degree of 
 firmness, ' God's will be done.' 
 
 Wishing to terminate this painful interview, I turned 
 to my poor patient, who appeared to have been per- 
 fectly sensible of what had passed. She gazed unin- 
 terruptedly on bur despairing parent. The big drop of 
 compassion stood on her pallid cheek — she attempted 
 to speak but grief choked articulation. After a short 
 pause I raised her meagre hand, whieh bad been engag- 
 ed picking ihe blanket and other portions of the bed 
 clothes. I felt for the pulse — i' was scarcely pereepli- 
 ble , having dwtndlc.l away into a wiry, intermittent 
 thrill. A cold, clammy perspiration bedewed her 
 emaciated framt — a frequent forenmner of death. 
 ' Well, Miss Somerville,' said I, ' how do you feel to- 
 day >.' 
 
 ' Kather easy, Doctor,' she answered, in a faint 
 tremulous tone, ' I feel no pain whatever, but, there is 
 a great weight on my chest, and a chill which 1 never 
 feltl>cfore. It is I think,' she continued afier a short 
 pause, as if to take breath, ' the hand ot death.' 
 
 liere she was suildeuly interrupted by an a-onizing 
 burst of grief from her distracted mother, who, at the 
 same time. fell on her knees, and raising licr hands 
 firmly clasped, to heaven, ' oh God ! oh God !' she 
 exclaimed, ' save, save my child, and do not leave me 
 comfortless in my old age' 
 
 She now sunk agaii«st the bed and sobbed heavily. 
 I tried tu comfort her, hut to no purpose, as she ap- 
 peared quite unconscious of anything I said. On 
 turning my aiieniii<ii to the poor invalid, I observed 
 remarkable an.xieiy and suffering pourirayed in her 
 sinking features. Her glazed eyes remained rivetted 
 on the dearest object of her atl'ections ; and every sob 
 appeared to sink as a dagger to her oah Hultering 
 heart. A deatli-hkc p.iuse ensued for a few moments, 
 w iieii the disiraeteil paieiit «a« roased by the endearing 
 call of ' mother,' from the lips ol her dying child. She 
 rose (juickly, and rushed towards her daughter, who 
 held out her hand as if to ihecr her sinking sjjirits. 
 
 ■ .Mother, dearest mother,' said she, ' do tiot cmbit- 
 Jer my last moments with your aDIiciion ; why should 
 y.jii lament mv departure — shall we not meet in a hap- 
 pier ' Here her voice suddenly fidled — her eyes 
 
 remained steailily fixed — and after a few moments a 
 violent eonvuls on seized her .-.battered frame — intense 
 sallering w.is depicted in her distorted features — all 
 became tranquil again — a placiti smile supervened, 
 and tlie baud uf death was upon her. 
 
 PAODV WELSH, FISHERMAN OF THE SUCK. 
 
 Paddy Welsh was a roving hhidi — peeiiliiir in 
 everything — in habits, in temper, in thuu^it, in 
 appearance, in expression, but especially in gait — 
 one of the class known only to those well acquaint- 
 ed with the peasantry of this country — thoroughly 
 and peculiarly Irish. By trade — oh, I'addy hud no 
 trade — he was not a tradesman, if by that term is 
 meant a sober mechanic, following his special call- 
 ing from week's end to week's end — .Sundays, holi- 
 days, whole Mondays, and half Saturdays e.\cepted, 
 in pulling wa.\-.nds, thickening hats, or stitching 
 frieze, turning hacks and pcarns, or in building 
 walls, plaining planks, hooping churns, or sliocing 
 horses. No, he could, it is ti ue, perform each and 
 all of these feats at a pinch just as well as many, 
 and better than some of those that served their time 
 to the trade ; but he had no genius for such com- 
 mon, continuoxis, evcry-day avocations. Neither 
 was he an agriculturist ; he held land, it is undeni- 
 able, and had a snug house upon it, built by his 
 own two hands, but that was for the \eife and chil- 
 dren, and the farm was generally tilled by ' the wo- 
 man of tlie house,' ' the little boy,' and an occa- 
 sion»l hired servant, with a lift now and then from 
 a neighbor or two at the sowing and digging of the 
 potatoes. Neither was he a trader or a dealer, at 
 least as a legitimate calling. S mctimes when pigs 
 were ' looking up,' he jobbed upon a few slips from 
 market to market, and may be turned a pound into 
 a ."O shilling note thereby; but pig-jobber he was not. 
 
 If Paudeen Ijrannagh (Angliee, Patrick Wel.sh) 
 had any special calling more than another, he was 
 a hacklei, as was his father before him, from whom 
 he inherited (all the poor man had to leave) the best 
 tempered pair of hackles in the country. With 
 these Paddy, in his younger days, when flax was 
 much grown in Connaught, and before he became 
 an adept at another line of life, might be seen trav- 
 ersing the country, his little hackle-boxes, resemb- 
 ling creepy stools, slung across his shoulders, one 
 hanging behind and another before. 
 
 Though Paddy wasnot a tradesman, nor a labor- 
 er, nor a dealer, nor any great scholar either, he was 
 an artist — a thing, by the way, he never heard of. 
 He knew nothing of the ' holiness of art," nor the 
 purifying effects of art, nor the religious influence 
 of iirt, nor medieval ages and illuminated missals — 
 the likes were never heard of in Connaught in those 
 days. There was no detinitioii of such in the old 
 whitey-brown papered Toraray-and Ilarry-illustra- 
 ted, rough-cast-covered Universal Spelling Hook, 
 nor in 'The Genteel-writer and Young Gentleman's 
 True Principles of Politeness,' sewed up into the 
 back of it. Where would he hear of it ? His spe- 
 cial trade of hackling he had by hereditary descent 
 from his father ; his readings were confined to 'Ray- 
 mond the Fox,' ' The Irish Rogues and Rapparees,' 
 
 • Moll Flanders,' ' The History of Freney the Rob- 
 ber,' and ' The Battle of Aughrini,' — the latter a 
 play of some merit, and not only much read, and 
 frequently committed to memory, by the more in- 
 telligent of the peasantry, but also at times enacted 
 in barns and unoccupied houses in the small towns 
 and villages. He was an artist, nevertheless — a 
 fisherman — the best we ever met, and that is a great 
 saying. For knowing where to find trout, when 
 and how to get them, what to rise them with, and 
 how to ^ay and kill them, we never met his equal. 
 He had other accom])lishments to be sure : he was 
 a good .shot, and could creep upon a flock of grey 
 plover, driving an old cow or a horse before him tu 
 screen him from the wary birds, with any other 
 man ir the barony. He wasn't a bad fiddler either, 
 particularly at a rousin' tune — 'Mol! in the Wad,' 
 
 • Rattle the Hasp,' ' The Grinder,' or any of the 
 cla.ssic, but now almost forgotten airs of ("onnanght. 
 He could feed, and clip, and spur, and 'hand' a 
 cock with any man that ever stood in the pit of an 
 Easter Monday. There wasn't a pile nor a stag 
 
 in the three porishcj, but he knew its whole seed, 
 breed, parentage and education. Ihining Pat Ma- 
 grccvy, he was the greatest authority on such mat- 
 ters from ' the Uarony' to Sliehe Hnwn, and no 
 main was ever fought without his presence; but 
 latterly he didn't like to have the subject evened 
 to him, by reason of a false accusation made against 
 him by an enemy, some years before, of having .stol- 
 en out of the county Sligo, a game chicken that had 
 been hatched in a sealil-crow's ni'st. 
 
 Among the many popular superstitions attendant 
 upon the breeding and rearing of game fowl, it was 
 believed that if an igg was extracted from a hawk's 
 or raven's, or a hooded cr^jw's nest, and a game 
 egg placed therein, that nothing could heat the bird 
 so reared — that it always partook of the carniver- 
 ous ])ropcnsity and indomitable courage of its nurse 
 and the family with which it had been brought up. 
 
 Like St. i'atriek's aunt, Mistbcr Welsh • under- 
 stood di-stillin',' though he seldom undertook the 
 office of illicit distiller ; but whenever anything 
 went wrong with the ordimry manufacturer, when 
 the burnt beer had too great a tack, or the wash 
 rose into the still-head, or ran through the worm, 
 he knew what to do with it, and could keep it down 
 with a dead chicken, or someihing worse — and he 
 was famed for making the best lurrogue, or luteing, 
 to keep in the liquor in an old leaky still, of any 
 other person in the seven parishes ; but we repeat, 
 he was not by trade a distiller. 
 
 Paddy was great at a wake, where his arrival 
 was hailed as would be that of Strauss or Lanner 
 in a folks-ball at the Sperl or Goldencn Piern at 
 Vienna, for nobody knew the humors of that festi- 
 val beyond Paudeen Brannagh. He could tell them 
 how to slap, and play forfeits, and sluiflle the 
 brogue, and rehearse ' tVie waits ;' or he could sing 
 the ' Black Stripper,' and ' Nell Flaherty's Drake,' 
 or repeat a rhan beyond compare. The young, and 
 those unconcerned in the mournful spectacle, wel- 
 comed him with loud applause ; even those in grief 
 would smile through their tears, and the nearest 
 relative of the deceased would exclaim : — 
 
 ' Oh, thin, musha Paddy, you summahawn, bad 
 cess to you, is it here you're coming with your 
 tricks, and we in grief and sorrow this night?' 
 
 ' llould your whist, sthore ma chrce, sure it's for 
 that I slept over, just to keep ye from ihinkuig, 
 and to anosc the colleens. Never mind till you 
 see how I'll press the garlands, and curl the paper 
 for you coming on morning.' F'or this was one of 
 Pat's aceomplishnients. He could assist the wonun 
 to lay out the corpse ; but in case of the death of a 
 young unmarried person, he could peel, and dress 
 with cut paper, the sally wands to be carried at 
 the funeral, and could .shape the white-paper gloves 
 whieh were to hang on the hoops — the principal 
 decoration of the garland that was to be placed in 
 the middle of the grave. Full of fun and frolic as 
 he was, he was always doing a good turn, ami 
 everybody said — 'There is no harm in life in him.' 
 
 Paddy stood five feet nothing in his stocking-feet, 
 no, not that either — in his barefoot ; first, because 
 he never had feet to his stockings, and secondly, be- 
 cause, if he put both feet to the ground, he would 
 be nearly sLx inches lower than the standard we 
 have assigned to him ; for, owing- to some natural 
 defect, his left les was by so much shorter than his 
 right. To commence with his lower extremities, 
 which were the most remarkable feature about 
 him, we must inform our readers that he wore 
 neither brogues, pumps, shoes, galouches nor boots, 
 neither Hessians, tops, nor Wellingtons ; but a 
 pair of short laced buskins, made by a brogue- 
 maker, which caused all the difference to the wear- 
 er in the matter of economy. 
 
 He was i-ain, — who is not ? — and consequently 
 never attempted the knees and long stockings, but 
 clad his nether man in corduroys, or borrogue, a 
 sort of coarse, homt-made tw illed linen, formed of 
 
HUSH MISCELLANY. 
 
 71 
 
 tow-viiru. Tlis only other garment — nt letist the 
 only other one which we could discover thiit he 
 wore for iiiuny years- -was an old whitish, drah- 
 eohired, double-called greatcoat, the long skirts of 
 which, liist rolled into a sort of twisted rope, were 
 then tucked up below the small of his back, where 
 they formed a sort of male bustle, which with his 
 fiddle stuck under it, and the acquired set of an 
 eager and habitual fisherman, gave him an extraor- 
 dinary angular appearance. A sharp, shrewd coun- 
 tenance, prominent nose and cheek-bones — small, 
 keen grey eyes, expressive of naturally great, as well 
 as long-practised observation— a face which would 
 have exhibited as many freckles as a turkey's egg, 
 but that it was, particularly in summer time, too 
 much tunned and sunburnt to let them be seen, ex- 
 hibited f.t once hardihood and cunning. The pecu- 
 liar chestnut hue of his face — the result of constant 
 exposure to wind and sun — descended, like a gor- 
 get, to about the middle of his chest, overa remark- 
 ably prominent throat, in which, if Paddy inherited 
 his peculiarity of a remarkably projecting larynx 
 from mother Eve, more than one half of the apple 
 must have stuck in her throat. Whiskers he had 
 none, but scanty beard, and scarcely a vestige of 
 eyebrow. To make up, however, for the want of 
 hair upon this portion of his face, he possessed a 
 peculiar power over the part whereon it should 
 have grown; for he could elevate it, particularly 
 toward the outward side, half-way up his forehead 
 and temples, and again depress it so as almost com- 
 pletely to obscure his eye. Although his face was 
 thus devoid of hair, he possessed a plentiful head of 
 tow-like wool, of a yellow, sandy color, which was 
 generally surmounted by an old glazed hat, rather 
 battered in the sides, and invariably encircled, dur- 
 ing the fishing season, with casting-lines and trout 
 flies. Oh ! what a business it was for some of the 
 young tyros to engage Paddy in conversation about 
 the effects of the last flood, or whether there was 
 too much rain overhead, or how long-the dry weath- 
 er would last, or when the green-drake would be 
 out, or to get him to tell the story of the otier that 
 seized the trout he was playing under the bridge 
 of Balloughoyague, while the others, creeping care- 
 fully round, examined what hackles and foxes, or 
 fiery browns and hares' ears, he had last been fish- 
 ing with. The genteel part of Paddy was his hand. 
 No lady of gentle blood, or pure aristocratic de- 
 scent, ever possessed a more delicate finger or a 
 finer touch. Signs on him, he was the boy that 
 could mount a Limerick hook on a stout bristle, 
 and mix the color, strip a hackle, or divide a wing 
 with e'er an angler in Connaught. The real won- 
 der about Paddy was his extraordinary powers of 
 progression, Although a baccough, no one could 
 beat him *' at the long run ' on the road ; and as to 
 crossing a country, we could never tell how he got 
 over the fences, or passed the drains, but he was 
 always as soon as his companions. 
 
 Some folks accused Paddy of being a poacher, but 
 this we stoutly deny, lie woidd go any distance 
 to destroy a net, or inform upon the owner of one ; 
 but wherever manual dexterity or adroitness were 
 X'alled in question, he had no qualms as to the 
 means employed. Thus, if Paddy was sauntering 
 by the river of a hot, bright, calm summer's day, 
 when no trout in its senses would rise, and that he 
 saw a good lump of a fish standing, or balancing 
 itself in a still pool, or lying in the shade of a weed 
 or rock, he at once set ofl" after a neighboring cow, 
 which he soon inveigled into a ditch, or pinned in 
 a corner, that he might pull a lock of hair from her 
 tail, wiih which, fastened upon the end of a long 
 switch, he soon formed a snare, slipped it adroitly 
 over the gills of the unsuspecting fish, and in an 
 instant lifted it out of its native element ; or, if that 
 was not attainable, he would walk into the stream. 
 
 Paddy's residence was on the banks of the Suck, 
 in the gentle fords and long deep retches of which, 
 between Ballymoe and Castlccoote, through the 
 deep alluvial pastures of Koscommon, he plied his 
 skilful angle between spring and summer, and in 
 winter he shot great quantities of duck, teal, and 
 widgeon. His house was approached by a deep 
 narrow boreen, generally so wet and muddy that 
 one had to walk on the top of the ditch on either 
 side more frequently, than traverse the gully beneath. 
 The mansion being placed on the side of a hill, re- 
 quired but three walls, the back being dug out of 
 the bank. This, however, made but little difference 
 in the material, for the remaining walls were formed 
 of tempered yellow clay, generally called daub, 
 mixed with chopped straw. It was comfortably 
 thatched, and the ridge fastened down with a sort 
 of backbone, about four inches thick and a foot 
 broad, of ihe same material as the walls. Out of 
 this rose the wicker framework of the chimney, well 
 Ijlastercd, both within and without. Upon the hip 
 of the roof, to the right of the doorway, grew a 
 luxuriant plant of hou-e-leek, to preserve the house 
 from fire, and the inmates from sore eyes.. Upon 
 the threshold was nailed an ass's shoe, to keep off 
 the fairies, and preserve the milk; and on the lin- 
 tel w as cut a double triangle, like what the free- 
 masons have adopted for one of their mystic signs, 
 in order to guard the children from the evil eye ; 
 for Paddy adhered with great pertinacity to the 
 customs of the good old times. 
 
 Having crossed rhe causeway which led over the 
 sink or dung-pit which stood in front, and entered 
 the cabin, the visitor would find a much neater and 
 more comfortable residence than outward appear- 
 ance would lead him to expect. Out of the back 
 wall was dug a small shallow excavation, crossed 
 by shelves, which served for a dresser, in which 
 some white-staved noggins, and divers jugs, bot- 
 tles, and pieces of old-fashioned crockery were dis- 
 played. To the right of the door was the domicile 
 of the pig, with above it the roost, and a couple of 
 odd-looking mat-work bags, with apertures hi the 
 sides for the hens to lay in. The watling couples 
 and rafters of the roof were of a tarnished jet, from 
 long exposure to the turf smoke, setting off' to ad- 
 vantage the wheateu straw crosses of St. Bridget 
 stuck here and there throughout it. 
 
 ' St. Bridget's.cross hung over door, 
 Which did the Louse from lire secure.' 
 
 Around the bed, which was a fixture, was hung 
 from the roof a thick straw matting, with a small 
 aperture in it to gain access to the interior, over 
 which hung a phial of holy water, and a bit of bless- 
 ed palm. This was Paddy's own couch, and with- 
 in it was hung his gun, and the most valuable of 
 his fishing gear. The room, which was separated 
 by the chimney and a low partition from the rest of 
 the house, we need not enter, for all was darkness 
 there. Throughout the small, but snug dwelling, 
 were to be seen various articles expressive of the 
 owner's more especial calling — rods, landing-nets, 
 fish-baskets, and night lines stowed carefully away 
 in the roof. 
 
 Besides the 'man of the house,' the inmates con- 
 sisted of, first, his M ife, a tall, dark, strapping, 'two- 
 haiidcd' woman, pushing for forty, or, as some said, 
 the wrong side of it ; but having become a 
 
 other at eighteen, she showed the wear and tear 
 of married life more, and took less pains to conceal 
 it than many a spinster of fifty. It w as looked upon 
 as an event fraught with benefit to the hunuiu race, 
 and to their immediate neighborhood in particular, 
 when Paddy carried ott' his bride ; for Peggy was a 
 Welsh too. 
 
 The result of this marriage was a son and a 
 daughter, the former of whom, partaking of the 
 
 upo 
 
 even to his middle, in the hope of tickling the trout dark complexion, and tall, slight figure of the 
 under a stone. | mother, was now a handsome youth, just stretch- 
 
 ing into manhood ; the latter, who took after the 
 fathoi'i was a year younger than her brother. As 
 Paddy was not much at home, but lived chiefly by 
 the river side, or among the houses of the neighbor- 
 ing gentry, his son Michael, or Michauleen, as he 
 u-ed to be called when ahoy, generally looked after 
 the afliiirs of the little farm, but occasionally ac- 
 companied the father upon his piscatorial excur- 
 sions, particularly when the May-fly was out in 
 early summer, and Paddy required an assistant at 
 the cross-line. The boy was of rather a romantic 
 turn, quiet, taciturn and thoughtful — much given 
 to fairy lore, of which both father and mother pos- 
 sessed not only a plentiful stock, but peculiar pow- 
 ers of narration. There was not a rath nor forth 
 in the whole country side but Michael knew the le- 
 gend of it. He believed in the good people, and 
 the leprehauns, and pookas, and banshees, and 
 thivishes or fetches, with as unwavering a faith as 
 he did in Father Crump's power to turn a man's 
 hair grey, or twist his head on his shoulders, or old 
 Friar Geughegan's ability to wallop the devil out of 
 a madman wi',h a blackthorn. Then he knew the 
 history of Ballintober Castle, and the story of the 
 Well of Oran, and how, if a man lifted the sacred 
 stone which stands beside it, all Ireland would be 
 ' drowned' ^in no time. 
 
 His father, though no great scholar himself, de- 
 termined to have learning for his child ; and many 
 a half-crown, which Paddy got for a bodough trout 
 at some of the neigboring houses, went to Tim Dun- 
 lavy for a quarter's schooling for the little boy, who 
 could soon not only read and write tolerably well, 
 but had gone through the ' coorse o' Voster' as far 
 as 'Tret and Tare;' and there is no knowing to 
 what pitch of learning he might have arrived, nor 
 for what sacred office he might have been prepared, 
 had his mother had her will, and his father been 
 more agriculturally inclined ; but, as neither of 
 these benign influences beamed upon him, he was 
 soon obliged to relinquish such pursuits for the 
 more profitable ones of setting potatoes and footing 
 turf. Still his literary predilections remained, and 
 these he indulged whenever he had an opportunity. 
 It was one of the great inducements to young AVelsh 
 to accompany his father a-fishing, that during the 
 dull hours of the day, from twelve till two, when 
 ' the, rise ' had gone off the trout, and Paddy was 
 taking a smoke, or lying asleep on the grass till a 
 • curl ' would come on the calm waters, that he could 
 learn off the ' Battle of Aughrim, or the Fall of St. 
 Kuth,' or the 'Battle of Ventry Harbor,' out of one 
 of his father's fly-books. 
 
 Young Michael was an object of special respect 
 among the people, from the circumstances of his de- 
 scent and birthright. A Welsh by both father and 
 mother was not to be found everywhere, and of this 
 the boy was rather proud ; and when even yet a child, 
 never winced under the operation of having his thumb 
 bound tightly with a woollen thread, and the point 
 pricked with a needle, to extract the blood with which 
 the afllicttd person was "touched. 
 
 What between the produce of the little farm, Peg- 
 gy's industry, and the matter of eggs and chickens, and 
 Paddy's earnings, which, though very irregular, were 
 often considerable, the family were well enough to 
 live, and might, people said, have made more of ihem- 
 stlvos if all that was told of Paddy's doings was truth. 
 It was said he had found a crock of gold in one of the 
 towers of 'he old bawne of Ballintober, which was not 
 more than a mile and a half distant from his cabin, 
 and where Paddy and his son were often seen in the 
 twilight, looking, they said, for moihs aud wall-fiiea 
 among the old ivy, or bats and starlings to manufac- 
 lure li»hing materials ; at least, so they said, but the 
 people thought otherwise. We often endeavored to 
 worm the story out of the cunning angler ; but, drunk 
 or sober, he was always on his guard, aud generally 
 passed it otl'wiih ii joke, or— 
 
 'Sure, Master Willie, you dou t give into the likes , 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 I'AUiJV WELSH, THE FISHERMAN OF THE SUCK, 
 
 'lf« Oaly ffaid -Women's talk, It's myself that would saw, sure enough, a little crock, about the bigness of foot slipped, and the clay and robbish began to grro 
 bo glad to owu to it if I got the goold, and not be slav- tlie bottom of a pitcher, and it full of all kinds of way under us. ' Lord betune us and harm,' says the 
 hg myself, summer and winter, by the river's brink, i money, goold, silver and brass. When I woke next i gossoon ; and then, in the dapping of your hand, there 
 ■slam-' I morning, I said nothin' about it, bat in a few nights ! was u wonderful wind rushed in through the dureway, 
 
 ' Yes i but Paddy, they say you made the attempt, after I had the same dhnvme over agin, ony I thought and quinched the lights, and pitched us both down 
 at all erents. Cannot yon tell ns what happened to 1 was lookin' down from the top of the tower, and that , into the hole ; and of all the noises you ever heard, it 
 you '' ' all the flures were taken away. Peggy knew be me was about us in a minute. M'anum san Deowl ! but 
 
 • Oh, then, it's only all gollymoschonght. But that's that I had a dhrame, fur I wasn't quite ascy in myself; I thought it was all over with us, and sorra wan of 
 •nighty parlimint— parlimint, used in contradistinction so I ups and tell? her the whole of it, when the childcr me ever thought of as much as crossin' myself; but I 
 to potteen, or illicit whiskey — your honor has in the had gone out. 'Well, Paddy,' ^ays she, ' who knows made out as fast as I could, and the gossoon after me, 
 Ihtle flask } tis a pity it doesn't honld more, and the but it would come thrue, and be the making of us yet; and we never stopped running 'till we stumbled over 
 devil a tail we are rising to keep up our spirits.' but yon must wait till the dhrame comes nfore you the ' the wall of the big intrance, and it was well we didn't 
 
 •Come, now, Paddy, since you know very well it third time, and then, sure, it can do no harm to try, go clane into the moat. Troth, you wouldn't give 
 Will bo quite too bright and dull these two hours to | anyways.' It wasn't long till I had the third dhrame, i three haypence for me when I was standin' in the road, 
 Btir eves a roach, let alone a trout — don't you perceive I and as the moon was in tlie lastijnarter, and the nights the bonchal itself was stouter— with the wakeness that 
 there isn't a cloud in the sky, and I can ace the hot- , mighty dark, Peggy put down the grisset, and made a ' came over me. Och, millia murdher ! I wasn't 
 torn as plain as my hand ; look, even the cows have [ lock of candles ; and so, throwin' the loy over my the same man for many a long day ; but that was 
 left off feeding, and are standing in the ford switching [ showlder and giving Michaulccn the shovel, wc sel ' nawthin' to the turmintin' I got from every body about 
 their tails to keep off the dags 7 just stick the rods, \ out about twelve o'clock, and when we got to the cas- j findin' the goold, for the shovel that we left after us 
 and lie on your face in the grass there, and tell me all { tie, it was as dark that you wouldn't see youi hand be- was dishcovered, and there used to be daelers and gin- 
 about the night you went to look after the money in fore you ; and there wasn't a stir in the ould place, i tlemin from Dublin — antitrarians, I think they call 
 the old bawne. Do, and you'll see PU squeeze anoth- barrin' the owls that wor snorin' in the chimley. To them — comin' to the house continually, and axin' Pcg- 
 er mouthful out of the crniskeen.' work we went just in the middle of the flare, and I gy for some of the coins we found in the ould castle. 
 
 ' Well, but you're mighty cute and disquisitive after cleared away the stones and the rubbish, for nearly the [ ' There now, you have the wholeof it — wet the Itnd- 
 ould stories and pishogues. I suppose I may as well course of an hour, with the candles stuck in pataties, ! in'-net agra, and run after that beautiful green-drake 
 be after telling it to you while the breeze is getting up ; 1 resting on sume of the big stones a wan side of us. ! that's just gone over us, while I see whether there is 
 but keep an eye to the river, awcurncen, and try could i (Jf coorse, sorra word we said all the while, but dug anything left in the bottle.' 
 
 you see e'er a rise ; and be sure you don't miss a gray j and shovelled away as hard as halters, and a mighty The popular opinions with respect to hiddden treas- 
 coughlln or a merrow, if e'er n one flies past you ; tough job it was to lift the flure of the same buiklin'. ure arc, that they are generally under the guardiun- 
 we'U want them coming on evening. But don't be i Well, at last the loy struck on a big flag, and my ship of spirits, who assume various hideous shapes to 
 tellin' on me, nor let on at the big house that I told , heart riz within me, for [often heard tell that the crock 
 you the likes at all. Sure the mistress 'ud never for- , was always covered with a flag, and so I pulled away 
 give me for putting such things in your head ; and for the bare life, and at last I got it cleared, and was 
 maybe it's Father Crump she'd be after repeatin' it to just lifting the edge of it, when — was that a trout I 
 the next Sunday he dines in Dundearmot; and if she heard lep there abroad !' 
 
 did, troth I wouldn't face him ioramonth of Sundays. ■ 'No, Paddy, you know very well it wasn't. Go on 
 Maybe it's to St. Ball or to St. John's Well, he'd send ! with your story. Didn't you see a big goat with four 
 me for my night walkiu'.' horns and terrible red eyes, sitting on the flag, and 
 
 ' Oh, never fear, I'll keep your secret.' I guarding the gold. Now tell the truth." 
 
 • Well, then, awoumeen, to make a long story short, 'Oh, what's the use in tellin' you anything about it ; 
 Idhramed one night that I was walking about in the I sure, I know by your eye, you don't believe a word I 
 bawne, when I looked into the old tower that's in the am sayin'. The dickens a goat was sitting on the flag ; 
 left hand comer, after you pass the gate, and there I but when both of us were trying to lift the stone, my 
 
 affright mortals who seek to discover them. Some- 
 times the good people interfere, and some of their 
 special favorites are, under their guidance and permis- 
 sion, enabled to obtain possession of the hiilden gold ; 
 but it is strictly imposed upon those to ^vhom the se- 
 cret is revealed, either in the form pf a dream or as a 
 direct revelation, that they must seek the treasure at a 
 particular time, not utter a word during the search, 
 and keep the secret of its discovery for seven years 
 after. Several of the great lake serpents and water- 
 cows of our Irish Fairy Mythology are supposed to 
 guard treasures ; in some instances black cats are 
 similarly employed. 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 73 
 
 IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 BOSTON, SATURDAY, SEPTEMBER 11, 1S58 
 
 DIFFUSION OF USEFUL IGNORANCE. 
 
 In ft recent article wo ventured the remark that the 
 new Cable may deserve the name of the hitost inven- 
 tion of the Society for the Difl'usion of Useful I(;no- 
 rance. We wish now to explain the meaning ot the 
 foregoing sentence. It means simply that news from 
 abroad will be more scanty and loss reliable. It means 
 also, that such political news as we may get, will be 
 made to order for the American market at the Foreign 
 News Manufactory — an interesting institution which we 
 shall briefly describe in the course of this article, or in 
 a subsequent one. 
 
 The ruhng spirit of the age is the spirit of Industry, 
 Tade and Commerce. Its emblem, Greaf Seal, and 
 idol is, — Gold. It has but one commandment, viz. — 
 Buy in the cheapest, and sell in the dearest market. 
 We fear that too many add a second commandment, 
 in a sly, secret way. It is, — Cheat every one but 
 yourself, and keep this side of the State Prison walls. 
 Now it is plain that the commercial world will be 
 served, as a general rule, firstly, secondly and lastly, 
 by the earth-embracing cable. It cannot be otherwise, 
 while our type of civilization continues to be the indus- 
 trial type. It is also clear that the news forwarded by 
 telegraph, concerning the rates of money, prices of 
 cotton, and of all greatly marketable goods, will be al- 
 most always reliable. Of course, an enteprising mer- 
 chant here who may have a faithful and far-seeing 
 agent abroad, may receive a despatch some hours in 
 advance of his rivals, and the trifling difference in time 
 may be worth to him thousands ot dollars, either by 
 refusing to purchase goods for which there is no pres- 
 ent market, or by buying goods for which there may 
 be a sudden demand. 
 
 It is also true, that some roguish speculator may oc- 
 casionally contrive to enrich himself at the expense of 
 merchants here, by sending false news about the prices 
 current for certain articles. But we believe that all 
 this has been foreseen, and, to a great extent, provided 
 for by the party chiefly interested, — the mercantile 
 world. 
 
 Political news, too, at times sorely test the strength 
 of the moneyed and mercantile interest. News of an 
 insurrection, of an attempt upon the life of a sovereign, 
 ot the sickness of an Imperial iufmt, of a general elec- 
 tion, of the birth of an heir to a throne, cause the funds 
 to fall or rise in value, according to the quality of the 
 news, and the effect which the event may have upon 
 the market. Hence, it is fair to conclude that news 
 of this description will be, for the most part, reliable 
 news. King dollar laid the cable ; king dollar must 
 have the lion's share of the good which may come of it. 
 As we all and singly are bound, directly or indirect- 
 ly, to the chariot wheels of this industrial type of 
 civilization, whose emblem is the gold dollar, we all 
 will be more or less, — directly or indirectly, blessed by 
 this yellow god of our age, — King Dollar. Some rich 
 men will become richer, — others poorer. Here and 
 there a poor man may become rich, as if in order to 
 show, that, even in our money making age, a poor 
 man can rise. It was a comparatively easy thing for 
 him to rise some forty years ago, before locomotives, 
 steam engines, to say nothing of the telegraph, were 
 pressed into our service. 
 
 Whether the masses of workmen will find their con- 
 dition and prospects improved, — whether the a.oniz- 
 ing Song of the Shirt will cease to be sung, — whether 
 the laborer will find himself nearer to that millenium, 
 when there will be all play and no work, — whether 
 these and similar consequences may ensue in favor of 
 the hard-workiug masses of mankind, — these are ques- 
 tions which the telegraph obstinately refuses to answer. 
 Some Mr. Merchant or Manufacturer Boundcrby, who 
 was once very pooi — some Friend and Father who iikcs, 
 onte a year, to give nn address, and, perhaps, a treat to 
 
 the Dignity of Labor, and, pointing to l^maelf, may 
 say, — men, what I have done, each one of you can do. 
 Still, ho would be puzzled to tell yon how it is that 
 so very few succeed, — that of the few who succeed, 
 so many fail and become poor again, — that honesty, 
 for a while, and not seldom for a long and wearisome 
 while, seems to be not the best policy for this world, 
 and that almost every improvement in the steam and 
 telegraph may tend to empty farm-houses, multiply 
 mushroom cities, till them with discontented crowds 
 of operatives who seem every year to grow poorer 
 and more dissatisfied with their lot. Friend and 
 Father would be puzzled to tell you how it is that, 
 whereas fifty years ago a few hundreds or a few 
 thousands in cash, would enable a man to commence 
 a respectable business, hundreds of thousands, mil- 
 lions, are now required .He could scarcely explain 
 to you how it is that a branch of business which 
 was once managed by hundreds of men who gained 
 slow and small, but sure profits therefrom, is now 
 carried on by a very few individuals who reckon 
 their business, their profits and losses by millions 
 of dollars. 
 
 If the working men who have been rejoicing for 
 the last month over the success of the Cable busi- 
 ness are satified that it will improve their condition 
 in a worldly sense, why, so are we. Yet it is worth 
 while to consider that the history of the building of 
 the huge pyramid of Improvements, of which this 
 Cable is, we trust, the top stone, tells in every 
 page how the rich became fewer and richer, and 
 how the poor became more numerous and poorer. 
 We can listen with patience to the men who are in 
 raptures with the emblems of modern progress, — 
 the labor, space and time-saving machines, — until 
 they try to make the masses believe that their gol- 
 den age is waning at last. 
 
 As for ordinary news, sought for by common men 
 in common newspapers, it is not all likely that any 
 change, unless it be for the worse, will ensue. The 
 class of people who continually ask, — what news, 
 what news 5 — is a very large and a constantly grow- 
 ing class. The best proof of this may be found in 
 the great number of newspapers now in existence ; 
 the daily additions made to the already overgrown 
 sum, and the enormous circulation of some of the 
 principal journals. The people, the whole people, 
 ask for news, — they will have news, and, of course, 
 news-venders are at hand to supply them with 
 news. The newspaper men understand this, and 
 also understand well the axiom which holds in all 
 branches of trade, — particularly when the goods be 
 sold to strangers, ignorant customers, or hasty trav- 
 ellers, and when the goods be of a perishable or evan- 
 escent description, — worth something to-day, — ut- 
 terly worth]ess to-morrow, — and the axiom in ques- 
 tion is, — when a customer will buy, 'sell' him. 
 Sell him what you may have, and what you think 
 may suit him. If you can't give him a good article, 
 give him an indifferent or a bad one ; but, by. all 
 means, ' sell ' him. Make the bad article put on, 
 for the moment, a good face. He may never dis- 
 cover the cheat, and, if he do, he will be miles 
 away, or he may be quite indifferent to the result. 
 All this is eminently applicable to the News Man- 
 ufacturing Company. The gentleman who com- 
 ppf,e that distinguished body know well that, as a 
 general rule, people are predisposed to read and re- 
 tail as fact whatever they find in their own favor- 
 ite papers, — that they are neither angry nor surprised 
 when, by any chance, they find that they were de- 
 ceived, unless when their own interests might be 
 concerned, — and that, after all, ' a lie will travel 
 seven leagues while truth is putting on her boots.' 
 Do we not everj' day see how easy it is to make 
 people believe almost any story, — especially a tale 
 of scandal, if told in the papers, and how hard it is 
 to make thutii listen to a refutation of the same, 
 or to repair the dairutge done i News Manufactu- 
 
 In the old times — some old-fashioned people will 
 ridiculously insist upon calling them ' the good old 
 times' of the slow packet ship and the Adams hand 
 press, newspapers were comparatively few and 
 small, readers perhaps quite as numerous, in pro- 
 portion to the supply, as they are now, and, what 
 was of greater importance, the news was far more 
 reliable than now, when we grumble because a cable 
 for which, we gave, perhaps, neither a cent nor a 
 blessing, fails to bring us at night the London morn- 
 ing news, which may, for aught most people know 
 or care, turn out to be manufactured news. 
 
 In the aforesaid good or bad old times, credit was 
 habituall given to a newspaper statement which 
 was often refused to the assertion of an individual, 
 and, oddly enough, not seldom even when the in- 
 dividual asscrtor and the writer of the paragraph 
 were one and the same person. It was regarded as 
 sufficient proof of the truth of a statement to be able 
 to show that ' it was in the paper." People have 
 not quite lost this feeling yet, — jjerhaps they never 
 will entirely lose it, and the news manufacturers 
 know this well, and trade to some purpose on their 
 knowledge. 
 
 When the steamship began to cross the Atlantic — 
 it being pretty evident by that time that America 
 was to be a great Power in the world — a marked 
 chance took place in the transmission of news. 
 Before that period, an editor would receive his for- 
 eign papers, select such news and articles as might 
 answer the design of his paper, and publish them 
 without previous arrangement with any one. But 
 it occurred to the European agitators of all sorts 
 that the public opinion of this country was worth 
 having, so a shop was set up to manufacture news 
 for the American market. Skilful agents in Eng- 
 land and France, some of them Jews, all of them 
 revolutionists or ismites, were employed to cull from 
 the floating gossip of the day such news as Brother 
 Jonathan and his rapidly increasing family would 
 like to hear. Editors on this side, who were also 
 ismites, and who could afford the expen.se, sent 
 out special correspondents to help along the news 
 manufacturing business. And so it grew and pros- 
 pered. The Slievenaraon and the Kossuth delusions 
 are instances in point, — hundreds could be mention- 
 ed, to show how successful the News Manufactory 
 was in its work in diffusing useful ignorance. Per- 
 haps as striking an illustration as any that could 
 be adduced may be found in the popular estimate 
 of Louis Napoleon, as forced upon the Amer- 
 ican mind by the foreign and native news manufac- 
 turers, and which shows that the mass of news- 
 paper readers here know little more about the Em- 
 peror than do the Japanese. The Cable will only 
 serve, in this respect, the news manufacturers, at 
 the e.xpcnse of the mass of readers. It has become 
 a proposition susceptible of complete demonstration, 
 that the truth of news is in an inverse ratio with 
 the speed of its transmission. The faster the news 
 fly, the more unblushingly will the news lie. This 
 is not the fault of the cable, but of designing men, 
 who take advantage of the increased cost of the 
 transmission of news, the avidity of people to hear 
 the news, and the gain to be gotten by making them 
 believe false news, in order to obtain the help of 
 Americans in their designs against the peace of Eu- 
 rope and of the world. 
 
 The text of our article on Cork and its Asso- 
 ciations has been in great part extracted from a re- 
 cent English publication, wliich will account for the 
 presence of certain objectionable passages. We have 
 erased offensive sentences, and, had not the 'imp' 
 been importuning us for 'copy,' should not have 
 allowed the rest to appear as it is. 
 
 his thousand operatives, from whose ranks he ongi 
 
 Daily sprung, may say some pretty things concerning I rers understand all this well 
 
 To Our SunscRinKKS. — We beg to direct the at- 
 tention of otir read'-rs to an article ()ri page 7" conccrn- 
 inj: our Gift ri'-tnre, whieii will aectmiit lor tlio .lelay in 
 its delivery to a portion of our subscribers and agents. 
 Answers to correspondeDts will be found on same page. 
 
74 
 
 IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 WiliiiMi lortlio SliMi'llKiiy. 
 THE CHIEFS OF FORTV-EICHT. 
 The reljL'l <'iiiil» of Korrv-Kijilitl in exile, or Bway, 
 JJ) Krlii'D stminii', lu Reuial olliiie, tlil» ccoruhiiig Imncst 
 
 «lu}, 
 Ak di'iir a" vvrr lo our hoarls, niiU clievriiig lu our tdfilit, 
 An ubrii III' ill^llilV'(l pimluiix hluuU, ill graud, Ihiterual 
 
 iiiiKlii: 
 O. «oll-iriiHl, pvirc, iiiiM-insli nicii '. >c suirun-cl 8orc luclccO, 
 lly boiiKlinii'iit nml brutal Iuihvvs, who Miofled ye iu your 
 
 lieeil ; 
 Hut eluiiilcr vile, from cowHi'd elavuij, lor whom yc bore it 
 
 all, 
 cms difi^r Ihuu the tyrant's chains, who triumph'd iu your 
 
 liill. 
 The Celt of other limes was « ild, and Uercely, bravely 
 
 rude, 
 Hut those who etood the baariia baoghail' had all his grat- 
 itude; 
 No Kcaruaght tall uor liallowglass,! in Tailure or del'ent, 
 'i hrew down his batlleaxe, or pike, to hasten his retreat ;— 
 No chioltain in llie olden time lit beacon lire in vain, 
 For down swept Beet men from the hills and up they rusb'd 
 
 from plain ;— 
 Then, should Ihe loe prove con<iucror, they 'd wisely bide 
 
 their lime 
 To light ohce more,— to soothe their chief by coustancy 
 
 sublime! 
 
 In Cahirmoyle, dispensing good, tlic rojal martyr's seen, 5 
 His one great aim— to raise us up; his only Hug— the 
 
 greciil 
 A IComan hero lives afar, in pleasant TeDUCssec, 
 Whose martial soul and lirm resolve would guard bis coun- 
 try irecl- 
 And hei-v 's our gallant Irieud and chief, sweet Suir's gifttd 
 
 son. 
 As faithful to the ' good old cause' as Sepoy to his gun!— 
 Tho ' Felon's Track' may yet be trod by lipperary's guide, 
 Witli 'Wild-Geese, '11 brave as Tliomoud's men, to bailie by 
 his side! 
 
 Uow will the brave ' Confederates,' in cvry clime and 
 
 laud. 
 Are trnc to Freedom's creed to-day, and Ireland's peerless 
 
 band, 
 Tltt-ir loyal love, in joy and woe, may well attest the claim, 
 For proudly sliil they drink and toast each leader's spotless 
 
 name ! 
 The Star of Uopc is rising o'er the ' City of the Tribes,' 
 Annihilating placemen's cant and Whi" and Tory bribes— 
 (jod guide the Irish sbiia to port, through storm and raging 
 
 foam. 
 And may our Chiefs ride proudly back to Freedom, friends 
 
 and 11o.uk! 
 New York. IticiiAiu) Oulaoax. 
 
 • ISearna Baoghail— The Gap of Danger, the brunt of 
 battle. 
 
 t Ivearnagh— A horse-soldier. 
 
 t Gallowglass- A foot soldier. 
 
 i This plain stanza (plain to the true Irishman, however 
 lowly his lot, like my own, may be) relers, successively, to 
 four of our living guides: O'Brien, Mituhel, Meagher, and 
 IJoheny. 
 
 II The 'Wild Geese' was the llgurativc name applied to 
 the recruits leaving Ireland to Join the Irish Brigade in 
 France. 
 
 A PnojiLEM. — AVhoever originated the following 
 deserves to have his name handed down to posterity : 
 
 If a despatch from England lo America gains on 
 the sun 60 as to reach here i 1-2 hours by the clock 
 before it left England, at what time would it reach 
 the point of departure, were a chain carried entirely 
 round the world ■ AVould it not arrive the day be- 
 fore it Icftf less only the time exhausted in making 
 the circuit ? If so, then with a continuous tele- 
 graph line around the world, why not send a de- 
 spatch around and round until it reached to Adam, 
 and let him know what his children arc about in 
 these ' latter days ?' 
 
 The oiistQCtES of the late Rev. Mr. XIcEvoy, 
 Catholic pastor of Rochester, were celebralcd. Thurs- 
 day morninj.', with impressive pomp, in St. Mary's 
 (R. C.) Cliurcli, corner of Ridge, and Grand streets, 
 Ji'i w Yoik. The deceased was on a vi«it to New York 
 lor the purpose of making arrangements for the eoiu- 
 pletion of a new church which he had nearly finished 
 in Kochesior, vihen he was untxpeetedly taken ill, and 
 died, on 1 uesilay lust, at the residence of his brothers, 
 n Grand street. 
 
 I Wiilten for the Mir-celluny.) 
 
 NOTES FROM A JOURNAL. 
 
 IIY J. K. i\ 
 
 No. 10 — Ualliiialarken Cnstlcand an Irish I'ipcr. 
 
 Castles and ruined cliurehes arc no less numerous in 
 Cliire Ihun in other ••ouniies of IrcUnd, and ilie former, 
 it is said, nt one time numbered 170. Some two miles 
 from the mineral springs of Lisdoonvarna there is a 
 fine old castle, which is ivy-mantled, and siandini;, as 
 it dues, upon a rock liigher than itself, eimiiiianding a 
 iew of the bay of Galwuy, the site was well chosen liy 
 Its ancient pro|irietor. Sending "a ' gorsoon' for the 
 key, we amused ourselves during his absence by craw- 
 ling into a cave in the rock, which is said to ho the 
 sulilcrranean entrance to the easlle, but having to gu 
 ill on all fours, we ciimc out again without accomplish- 
 ing any tiling but the tearing of our eloiius and the 
 ' harking' of our shins. 
 
 Tho inside of Ballinalacken Castle is like most of 
 the other Irish casiles, ahiiust wlioUy sirippid of the 
 beautiful sculptured onniincnts witli wliieli it was said 
 to be decoraied, and all that remains here is part of a 
 richly ornamented mantel-piece, and no doubt the 
 remainder would be carried olf hut for fear of the wall 
 falling on the robbers, as I might call them. Bayard 
 Tiylor, iuhis Travels in Central Alrica, condemns 
 those tourists who mmilate tho Pyramids and the 
 Sjih^nxes by chiseling their names upon them, and 
 certainly ihey deserve a good caning who would de- 
 liberately go to wciik with hammer and chisel and luuk 
 10 pieces ornaments imbedded in the walls of casiles 
 and abbeys, as 1 have seen them in Ireland, fur the 
 sake of seeing ' Harry AVilliams, Esq.,' upon them, 
 rendering the original sculpture almost wholly illegible. 
 There is a dale on this mantel-piece, but ' Esq. 
 Williams' has almost obliterated it. 
 
 The dungeon of the castle was certainly a gloomy 
 looking hole, lighted only by a narrow grated window, 
 and its dampened walls do doubt could tell stories of 
 many a proud foe who ended his days wiihin its dreary 
 solitude. 
 
 Being provided with a cold dinner, we sat down in 
 the hall, (in which no doubt, in the ' good old days of 
 yore,' lords and ladies tripped the li^lit fantasiic toe, 
 lo the soft strain of the harji,) and did justice to the 
 eatables. 
 
 Today happens to be the 4th of July, 1857, and it 
 occuned to us that, even if we were yuuo miles Irom 
 the land of Washington, we ought to celebrate it in 
 some manner. We accordingly sent a short dis- 
 tance for a piper, and soon ' Yankee Doodle' and 
 'Hail Columbia,' were played from the summit of the 
 castle in line style. 
 
 This piper had lost the use ot his legs and his brother 
 had bceoiue an idiot in one night, and as the story has 
 never been in print before 1 will give it as I heard il, 
 adding, hoivever, that the story is substantiated by 
 several respectable persons, who knew them both when 
 ' they were as clane and dacent boys as ever danced at 
 a fair.' 
 
 Edward and Michael Connors were ever foremost 
 at a'hurling iiiateh, could dance down all the rest at 
 ihe fair, and would usually have all tliegiils at a pat- 
 tern setting their caps for them, and happy wouhl a 
 dark-eyed beauty feel when Ned or Mick would solicit 
 her hand as a partner for the next darci-,and would put 
 in the extras when the piper played die 'Koxnunter's 
 
 Jig.' - 
 
 It was at a fair in a neighboring town, some fifteeti 
 years since, that the, two brothers, meeting with many 
 of theirfriend.s during the day, got more of the 'craihur' 
 in their heads than was good lor the clearness of their 
 \i,ioni.ry organs, and late at night they set out for home, 
 not a little ' elevated.' Their house stood in a lone- 
 some spot, and on the road to it they wsre ob igid to 
 pass a field, which was saiil to contain one of those 
 magic ' fairy circles.' As the night was rather dark, 
 they felt a superstitious dread uf the ' good people,' 
 and devoutly crossed ihemselves as they neared the 
 field. Fate was however against themrfor by some 
 power unknown to them, they were ere long stretched 
 
 at full length In the centre of die ' cln-le." How they 
 passed the remainder of ilio nii-hl, they hare no rercil- 
 leciion ; but ihose who passed by that way the ni xt 
 morning found them hoili asleep, and ujion awaking 
 them, one gazed round with a vacant siaie — an idiot, 
 and the other had lost the use of his legs. 
 
 This story seems like fiction, but II is none the less 
 true. Of course I Ho not b-lieve the fiiries hncl any- 
 thing to do with tbein, hut it was simply caused by the 
 combined eft'ecis of the liquor and ihe night air, yet 
 their story addeil nut a Mule to ihe magic influence of 
 the fairy circle. 
 
 Michael, who had lost the nse of his lees, was soon 
 to hare been married to ' the handsomest girl in the 
 three parishes,' and the Sunday followin;; the accident 
 he sent for Kitty to release her from her jiromise. She 
 heard him through, and then sai I : 
 
 ' No, Mick, as long as your heart beats I'm yours ; 
 and though God has afflicted you, Kitty loves you now 
 as much as before.' 
 
 They were married, and Michael soon learned to 
 play the bagpipes, wiili which he earned a comfortable 
 livelihood. Man\ of the peasants say that Mick must 
 have taken some lessons from the ' good people,' fur 
 ' no inonal man ever heard before sich mu-ic as he 
 used to squeeze out of 'cm.' Like the )iiper in the old 
 song, 
 
 ' Neither wedding nor wake was worth an old shake. 
 If Mickey was not lirst invited.' 
 
 His brother, Ned, is a harnih ss idiot, and has beei 
 nicknamed 'Ned of the Hill,' but whether it is after 
 Lover's hero of the same name I cannot say, but cer- 
 tainly ihe characters are widely different. 
 
 W^e returned by way of Lisdoonvarna, and here 
 there was quite a crowd collected to witness some good 
 dancers, and I noticed that some of the girls were bare- 
 foot, yet it was surprising to see them ' double shuffle' 
 on the hard road. The\ probably felt not the want of 
 shoes. There was no celebration of the Fourth at this 
 place, but it was probably owing 10 the Know Nothings, 
 who have control of its affairs. I entered a small shop, 
 and inquired for some India • r ekers. The man in 
 attendance said he had none, but he had some prime 
 biscuits baked that day ! I could not help smiling, hut 
 resolved to try him again, and then asked for Roman 
 candles. He looked puzzled, scratched his head, and 
 finally said, 'Be gor. Mister, I have none of them 
 either ; but one of my mould candles will give you 
 more light than any candle that ever see Rome !' 
 
 This answer put an end to my searches lor fireworks 
 in Lisdoonvarna. 
 
 It was late when wc turned our horse's head towards 
 Ennistymon, but the lull round moon threw more light 
 on our road than would all the rockets ih.it ascend to 
 night from every city and town in the United States. 
 
 Wk .saw a *atement made by a correspondent of a 
 Boston paper, the other day, that foreigners were the 
 principal ones to express dissaii-faction in regard to 
 the wages they receive, and are always clamoring for 
 better pay ; insinuating that they have no right to do 
 this. Suppose U'at they do lead off in demanding 
 their rights, is it not an evidence of their common 
 sense. In the name of Heaven have not fori igners as 
 much right to demand their dues as Americans '. Is 
 it possible that ihe laborer can raise himself to his 
 due position in society, if we are to favor Americans 
 and crush foreigners ? We think not. According to 
 Heaven's hi. best edict the one has just as much liberty 
 and as much right to contend for that liberty as the 
 other. Difference of birth cannot m-ike ihn least dis- 
 tinction. Whether one is horn an American, an Eng- 
 lishman, Irishman or Welshmau, sncli a one belongs 
 to the human family as much as another, and certainly 
 one portion of humanity cannot snfl'er witbi ut tho 
 other portion sympathising with it, by way of punish- 
 ment in the end. We contend that all men w, re horn 
 free and equal, being posses_sed of certain ina ienaSlo 
 rights. Let us have no distinction. America was 
 designsd by the God of heaven to be the asylum of the 
 oppressed. Let all lovers of liberty unite to oppose 
 the spirit of oppression. [Workmen's Advocate. 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 75 
 
 Tiiii PoT.vTO KoT — 'I'lu' jioinni r it has niiide its 
 a|i|ie«rmict) in Nt'cilhiiin, Dovlt, >.'!iiiik i.tul oilur 
 neifrhhiirins towns. 
 
 'l."li« I'rovidenoe Journal says that the rot is nuikins; 
 S!«l liiivoc niiionj; the potato (ii'lils in liristol coiinty, 
 Miissnchtisctts, and in Bristol e. uiity, Khode Islond. 
 One fiiniier in Swaiizfy, who has n field ol' ten acres, 
 will lose nearly his whole crop — in fact, he > as almost 
 ahandoned the idea ot'dif;)iirii^ thctn as tli« sounil ones 
 will nut pay for the Inhor of securing them. From 
 Bristol, Warren and Biirrington, iinti the neis:hliorino; 
 towns in Mrtssnchiisctts, we hear llio same general 
 complaint. Some of the farmers in iho,se towns will 
 not average half a crop, while not a lev,- will scarcely 
 save enough, of sonic' kinds, for set-d tor ancnher year. 
 
 Owing to the unn-ually wet season thus far, says the 
 Newburyport Herald, the jiotato crop, of some kinds, 
 will not be worth harvestint;. We know of one gentle- 
 man who has ploughed up his potatoes on land which 
 he calculated would yield one thousand bushels and 
 jilanteil turnips. We think the rot is more prevalk:iit 
 thissea.-on than last. Uur market, in i onsei|uerrce, is 
 crowded with potatoes, ^\'h^ch arc disjjostd of at forty 
 and lifry cents p-^r bushel. 
 
 A Fajiily SavjiD at a Fikk. — At a fire in 
 Cincinnati, policenuiii George Carr, a noble fellow 
 aid brave officer, ventured up a ladder and inio a 
 room, at the ri>k of his life. Water was frcelv played 
 on, and he soon appeared bearing Mrs. Duncan. As 
 she was safely brought down, ihc leelinns of the crowd 
 burst into loud cheers and clapping of bands. Carr 
 ventured in again and brought out a child, whii'h was 
 passed down. A third time he entered and broiight 
 out the lemaining child. Each time he appeared with 
 his precious human freight, the lai'j^e crowd gave him 
 hearty cheers. 
 
 Mrs. Duncan and children were taken into the 
 building on the corner of Hamn.ond and Fourth 
 streets, where their w.mts were cared for. Geo. Carr 
 was taken to Scanlan's drug store in a dreadful con- 
 dition He had inhaled great quantity of smoke, and 
 was in intense pain. His loud breathings as he endea- 
 vored tojretthe smoke from his lungs, could be heard 
 throtigh the closed doors out in the middle of the street. 
 The next morning he could not speak, and his condi- 
 tion was very critical. 
 
 Mns. Gladstane SpisAiiS Irish. — We have been 
 reliably informed, that this beantil'ul and ace mplished 
 actress is an Irish lady, and that she speaks the Mile- 
 sian toni;uc in the most graceful manner. We are 
 glad. We thought the first night we saw her at the 
 Arch, that no small share of Hibernian loveliness could 
 be detected in her. Nothing would please us more than a 
 Shanaghus with her in the rich dialect peculiar to the 
 romantic vales of Monster. In fact it is so long since 
 we had a piece of chat in Irish with a beauty from the 
 ' South of France' that we would give any thing now 
 for one. We shall not soon forget the delightful con- 
 fabulation we once had with Lola Montez in the poetic 
 tongoe of Ireland. Lola from the ' Beautiful town of 
 Limerick' can write verses in Irish. [Fitzgerald's City 
 Item. 
 
 A Hint. — Do not expect the editor to make honor- 
 able mention of you and your business every few weeks 
 fur nothing. The space in the paper, and a man's time, 
 are worth something, and every notice comes back to 
 the drawer of the recipient in dollars and cents. An 
 editor should not be allowed to go hungry, bare-backed 
 or bare-footed. They 'eat, driud and wear, just like 
 other people.' [Ibid. 
 
 Congressional Brains. — The Lowell Courier tells 
 of a Congressman from Maine who paid a political 
 editor SlU to write his acceptance of the nomination, 
 and SIO more to write his speech to his constituents on 
 the occasion of his re-election. The price is entirely 
 too cheap. The 'honorable' member doubtless valued 
 the brains of the editor at the price he put upon his 
 constituents and his own. 
 
 How TiiE South and Nuhtii Diiikk. — The 
 nichmond South conchidca an anicle, containing 
 glowing accounts of the reception of the news of the 
 Ocean Telegraph in the Kree Slates, as follows: Thus 
 throughout the States North of t'ls does the excitement 
 and furore rage and foam nnil bubhle and boil. Here- 
 abouts and south of us the mania appears in ^ milder 
 form. It presents none of those violent spasms which 
 wo observe in the Free btatcf, biit is a sober, calm 
 satisfaction with the results achieved, and nothing 
 more. And yet it is not the calmness of iudifference. 
 Not at all. The people of the Southern .Mates are as 
 deeply interested in this triumph as those of New 
 York, and appreciate its greatness far more acutely. 
 Why, then, are they not more enthusiastic, more ex- 
 cited ? How is it that they have given no outward, 
 visible expression of their interest and jojfnlness ■? It 
 is because they are less superficial, less noisy, less de- 
 nionstraiive,less excitable i ban their Northern brethern. 
 There is less of the mob element in Southern society, 
 and that is the element which exhibits these antics of 
 intoxication. An intense conservatism is the predo- 
 minant peculiarity of Southeru character, and it is just 
 that guaranty of staliility which free society lacks to 
 preserve it from those violent popular ebullitions which 
 now swell into a hurricane of pleasurable and innocent 
 excitement when the cable is laid, and which to-morrow 
 may sweep away every barrier of good order and good 
 government, when baser passions stir and move the 
 multitude. Northern society is a sleeping volcano, but 
 with powerful tire forces ragmg internally and ready to 
 burst forth in devouring and consuming flames without 
 a moment's notice. 
 
 The Providence Journal in a somewhat similar strain 
 of remark, thus contrasts the lively demonstrations on 
 this side of the water with the stoical indifl'crence of 
 the Knglish : — 
 
 The tameness of the English rejoicin{;s over the 
 Atlantic Telegraph is in marked contrast with the 
 jubilant character of the American demonstrations in 
 honor of the great event. This is due to two causes; 
 the English do not make near so general a use of the 
 telegraph as the Americans. The press and the peo- 
 ple employ it much less, the rates are higher, and the 
 habits of the people are less accustomed to the go-ahead 
 notions which the telegraph represents. Another rea- 
 son is that the masses ot ihe English people concern 
 themselves much less with public matters. Those 
 who understand the telegraph know all about it, and 
 know very little about anything else. The people are 
 more phlegmatic and not so easily aroused to a sense 
 of the importance of the work or to any great enthusi- 
 asm over it, oven if its importance were fully a|jprecia- 
 ted. Moreover the space devoted to ilie ac- 
 counts of the celebration by the telegraphic despatches 
 here, spread the news simultaneously all over ihe land, 
 and the enthusiasm in one place kindled it in another, 
 till the whole country blazed with fire works and rung 
 with the reverberating echoes of cannon. In England 
 they care much less about it ; and they take with more 
 coolness the things that they do care about. 
 
 Advice to Authors. — Write according to your 
 vein, and follow the bent of your feelings and fan- 
 cies, but don't struggle after wit, or try to imitate 
 
 the sharp sayings of such men as D and B . 
 
 Only write what is congenial, or that comes easy to 
 you Remember the ballad of 'AuldKobin Gray j' 
 perhaps few compo.sitions have ever been so success- 
 ful, or obtained such a wide and lasting popularity ; 
 but if the author of that song had endeavored to 
 compose a brilliant satire, or a funny story, she 
 might have been quite unsuccessful. Discover, 
 therefore, where the vein of your genius lies ; fol- 
 low the perhaps narrow streak of ore, and do not 
 dig up the mud that may lie on either side. 
 
 A (iREK.N Vermontcr enlisted in the naval service 
 and upon his first visit to his ship, espying the ma- 
 rine in the gangway, pacing backwards and forwards 
 with his musket, he accosted him with—' Hello, 
 Capting, out a-shootin' luncs this morning — hey !' 
 
 The Mkaghku Ci.vb. — This body, composed of 
 the true and sterling friends of Thomas Francis 
 Meagher, celebrated their anniversary with due 
 pomp and ceremony, on Thursday. The whole 
 proceedings passed off with entire eehit. Among 
 the victims of British oppression that have blended 
 their destiny with this free and happy republic, 
 there is none can compare with the gifted Meagher. 
 Like another Emniett, he did not lose his head 
 upon the scaffold, but he offered it for Ireland, and 
 boldly and manfully confronted his judges. Tried 
 upon an ex post facto law, he was wrongfully con- 
 demned. All through, he stood out, tendering his 
 heart, his hand, his life for the Liberty of Ireland. 
 As a true patriot and martyr to her cause, there is 
 none with his high accomplishments, purity of 
 heart and disinterested sincerity, that can compare 
 with Thomas Francis Meagher. He differs in every 
 respect from the great bulk of that class which we 
 call 'Irish Refugees.' He was a fighting man, and 
 proved himself — like the immortal Emmctt — as such. 
 If he did not lose his head for Ireland, he offered it 
 for her cause, and with his brilliant oratorical pow- 
 ers, and his many accomplishments, republican in 
 heart and sentiment — we are proud to find him re- 
 spected and honored by his Irish and American 
 friends in their clubs. We honored Thomas Addis 
 Emmett. We made him a judge. He was, like Wolf- 
 tone and other true and genuine patriots, an e.xtir- 
 minated victim of Briti.sh oppression. His talents 
 are here on record. Many of the higher grades of 
 intellect have, since his time, sought refuge upon 
 our shores ; and, without making anything in tlie 
 shape of invidious distinctions, we must pronounce 
 that none of them thus victimized, — we will except 
 
 Thomas A. Emmett, Mitchel, and a few others can 
 
 at all compare with the subject of this cursory no- 
 tice. We believe that he understands the system 
 of our government with as much intelligence as if 
 he were bred up in America, and is a Democrat in 
 heart, of true feeling. As an accomplished and 
 highly educated Irish gentleman, he is an acquisi- 
 tion to that class or our adopted citizens in Ameri- 
 ca, and his countrymen feel a just pride in him, as 
 well as the highest men of the land, who have, since 
 he came among us, accorded to him every due meed 
 of respect. [New York Daily News. 
 
 ExPbesident Pierce.— We have been favored 
 with the subjoined extract of a letter from Ex-Presi- 
 dent Pierce, received in this city yesterday morning by 
 a frbnd of this distinguished irentlcman. It is dated 
 August the 10th, at Hotel Byron, near Villencuve, 
 Switzerland. It communicat-s most graiifvin- int 1- 
 ligence to the many friends of Gen. Pierce and lady in 
 this city : 
 
 'You will be gratified to learn that Mrs. Pierce's 
 health has improved decidedly since we left the United 
 States. Nothing could have been more agreeable than 
 our six months in Maderia. The climate in winter is, 
 I believe, unrivalled — the atmosphere at once bland 
 and bracing, and the scenery extremely grand and 
 beautiful. That we were especially rtfreshod by the 
 complete repose which it was our privilege there to en- 
 joy, you will readily understand. Wc left Funchal on 
 the 12th of June, but lingered by the way, visiting 
 Lisbon, Cadiz, Seville, Gibraltar, Marseilles, Lyons 
 and Geneva, and arrived here only a week ago. With 
 constant care to avoid overexertion and exposure, 
 Mrs. P. has been able to enjoy a good deal, and now 
 we find this place of rest quite charming. The hotel, 
 which is at the northein exiremiiy of Lcman, is spa- 
 cious, clean and airy, and commands magnificent views 
 of the lake and mountains The castle of Chillon is 
 close by — Clarcns, sweet Clarens, within the range of 
 a pleasant walk ; Vevay, Lausanne, Bex, &c. in the 
 neighborhood. ^> e may remain here during the re- 
 mainder of August, and then perhaps proceed to 
 Interhikcn by the way of Berne. If the weather is 
 favora'ile we may cross the Simplon or Splugen, and 
 pass into Italy in September.' [Washington Union. 
 
76 
 
 IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 FOREIGN INTELLIGENCE. 
 
 An arraiigemcni in the breach of promi^i" of marriage 
 case has been made. It is said the member for VVetiC- 
 meath is to pay £2,000 lo the lady. 
 
 Mi9> Nii;htion.; 's health is such that she has again 
 been obliged to resort to Malvern for the benefit of the 
 water cure. 
 
 The Bombay mail brings news down to the 19th of 
 July, but the best news it brings is, that there is scarce- 
 ly any news al all. 
 
 The Jesuits in Ireland have purchased Miltown 
 Park, county of Dublin, the residence of Calvert 
 Stronge, Esq., police magistrate, for X4,u00. [Tralee 
 Chronicle. 
 
 We regret deeply to have to announce the death ef 
 the RcT. Wm. Wade, O. P , a most esilmalile clergy- 
 men, who wa.s until a recent period attached to the 
 Dominican comnuiiiiiy in the ciiy of Cork. 
 
 The I.crd Lieutcn.mt's .■ipeech ai Londunderry, and 
 his statistics, show that for peace and order, and the 
 absence of crime, Ireland is it at present in a state to 
 invite comparison with any country in the world. 
 
 Lord Palmcrston has within the last few days grant- 
 ed a site for a Catholic chapel at Clilfony, and he has 
 subscribed £40 for its erection. He has also granted 
 a site for a schoolhouse to the Rev. Owen Feeny. 
 
 His Emineni-c, Cardmal Wiseman, has acceded to 
 the request of Sir John Br idstreet, B irt., president, 
 and the council of Ireland of the Society ot St. Vincent 
 de Paul, to deliver a public lecture tor the society in 
 Dublin on his return from Ballinasloe. 
 
 The Uev. M. Flood, for many years parish priest 
 of Ba^liciv, died at GaUvay on iheSth, rather suddenly. 
 This venerated pastor had reached his 68th year, and 
 was universally respected for his many Christian 
 ririucs 
 
 The Rev. R. Campl)ell late curate to the Right Rev. 
 Bishop Suthcr, at St. Andrew's Chapel, Aberdeen, 
 and since assistant to the Rev. Gilbert Rorisen, St. 
 Pet> r's Church. Pelershcad, has been received into the 
 Catholic Ciimmunion. [Union. 
 
 On Sunday, a sermon was preached in the Cathedral 
 of Killarney by the Rev. Father Cooke, of the Ob- 
 lates of Mary, in aid of a fund in process of collection 
 for completing the chapel of the Convent of Mercy in 
 that town. The collection amounted to £50. 
 
 The solemn consecration of the Church of St. Mi- 
 chael the Archangel, at Ballinasloe, is fixed for Wed- 
 nesday, the 25ih instant, and the consecration sermon 
 will be preaclied l)y his Eminence the Cardinal Arch- 
 bishop of Westminster. 
 
 Preparations on a most extensive scale continue to 
 be made for the county meeting, on the case of the 
 Cormncks. There huve been meetings of the commit- 
 tee, and the accounts from all parts of the county state 
 that the meeting will be one of the largest thai has been 
 hold for many years in Tipperary. Among those who 
 have signed the requisition is his Grace the Archbishop 
 of Cashel and Emly. [Limerick Reporter. 
 
 Riot in Closmkl.— On Sunday night the neigh- 
 borhood of the Main street was thrown into the utmost 
 confusion by the riotous condiict of the reapers who 
 were congregated in large numbers on the street, wait- 
 ing to be hired by the farmers. The day being wet, 
 there were very few of them employed, and the weather 
 having become moie favorable in the evening, a great- 
 er demand for laborers necessarily followed, and the 
 men demanded a higher rate of wages than the em- 
 ployers were inclined to offer ; in consequence the far- 
 mere were set upon and assaulted in a violent manner, 
 and had to run for their lives. One gentleman, Mr. 
 John Mulcahy, was knocked down and trampled upon, 
 and only for the assistance rendered to him, the most 
 serious consequences would most likely have resulted. 
 The police, who patrolled the town up to a late hour, 
 under the ordcis of Alderman Kenny, J P, (in the ab- 
 sence of the mayor,) had returned to their barracks 
 previous to the riot. We regret to add that a similar 
 scene was enacted on the ensuing morning, and the 
 reapers hod the town to themselves, but di 1 not commit 
 any other violence than assaulting some farmers who 
 declined to agree to their terms. 
 
 At the York races, Mr. Ten Bro 'ck's American horse 
 Babylon won the ' Chesterfield handicap ' against a 
 field of seven competitors. 
 
 Lord Prtlmerston, who was visiting his estates in Ire- 
 land, had delivered a speech at Sligo in defense of bis 
 administration. 
 
 A great county demonstration, in honor of the suc- 
 cessful laying of the Atlantic cable, in the shape of a 
 banquet to the Directors of the Company, was being 
 organized at Killarney. A project was also on foot for 
 running a railway to Valeniia Biy. 
 
 The great event of the week in Ireland has been the 
 meeting of the League. The resolutions put to the 
 meeting en ma.sso, and unanimously voted, are a suf- 
 ficient indication of the general purpose of the League, 
 as well as of the conflicting opinions and policies of 
 some of its more prominent members. The League 
 refused the advice of the Freeman's Journal, and, by 
 the seventh resolutions, granted the demand of the In- 
 dependent members, that a certain time should be 
 given for Ministers to bring their Bill forward. 
 
 On Sunday week an entertainment was given by 
 William Smith O'Brien, Esq., at his residence, Caher- 
 moyle, to the children attending the schools upon his 
 estates in that d. strict. Nearly 100 male and female 
 pupils, with their teachers, attended, and the delighted 
 group enjoyed the refreshments plentifully supplied, 
 after which dancing commenced, the members of Mr. 
 O'Brien's family taking part. Mirth and happiness 
 beamed on the countenances of the juvenile party, 
 comprising the sons and daughters of the tenants of 
 their good and excellent landlord. [Limerick Chron- 
 icle. 
 
 At three o'clock onFriday week Joseph Lyons, Esq., 
 J P, lodged informations before Captain Whelan, R, 
 M, to the effect that he believed and feared thit an at- 
 tack would be rande on him at his farm, Moyanna, near 
 Stradbilly, where he had a reaping machine at work. 
 Twelve police with bed and bedding were immediately 
 despatched to Moyanna. Mr. Lyons's feared that the 
 machine would be smashed before the constabulary 
 would arrive. On this day (Saturday) he will be 
 working the machme under the protection of thirty 
 policemen. [Leinster Express. 
 
 Dr. Cane is no more. On the I7th of August he 
 departed this life at the early age of fifty-two years. 
 Kilkenny may well feel proud of his memory, for nev- 
 er was there a purer soul than his — never a milder 
 nature. The sad intelligence of his premature demise 
 cast a universal gloom over the city, and for many a 
 long day the shadow of his death will pass into other 
 lands, wherever Irishmen have made their homes, 
 bringing sorrow to the hearts of ' our e.xiles far away.' 
 His pufilic life commenced in this city with the Reform- 
 ed Corporation. He was chosen thefirst Catholic chief 
 magistrate for Kilkenny, but resigned in favor of Mr. 
 Edmond Smithwick. The following year Dr. Cane 
 wai again appointed to the civic chair of our city. 
 Shortly afterivards he was elected alderman, a distinc- 
 tion which he held till his death. About the same 
 time he was appointed to the commission of the peace, 
 but his connection with the Repeal Associatio n induced 
 the government to deprive him, as they deprived O'Con- 
 nell and many others, of his commission. In 1848 he 
 suffered a dreary incarceration of nine months in the 
 popular cause ; and on his liberation in 1849 his fellow 
 citizens elected him once more to the chief magistracy 
 of the city, which he adorned by his genms and his 
 virtues. When O'Connell was released from prison 
 in 1844, and when the corporations of Ireland tendered 
 thiir congratulations to the Liberator, Robert Cane was 
 chosen as the head of the deputation from Kilkenny- 
 [Kilkenny Journal. 
 
 On Friday week, at seven o'clock, Thomas Han- 
 non, a private soldier of the 3d Buffs, now stationed 
 at Boherbuoy barracks, received fifty lashes in the 
 presence of the depot of his regiment, which was 
 drawn up so as to form a square in front of the 
 triangles. At a few minutes to seven o'clock the 
 fifes and drums marched through the barracks play- 
 ing a rather brisk but somewhat melancholy air, af- 
 ter which the pri«oiici was marched from the guard- 
 
 room under a corporal's guard to the place of pun 
 ishment. The finding and sentence of the court 
 martial and its affirmance by supreme military au- 
 thority being read to him, he was stripped to the 
 waist and secured to the triangle. The unhappy 
 fellow bore the punishment without wincing; no 
 blood was drawn, but the shoulders and back were 
 marked by dark blue and red lines. When released, 
 his back was dressed with the usual remedy applied 
 on all such occasions, and he was then removed to the 
 hospital. Ho has also to undergo, in addition to 
 the punishment which he has received, 112 days 
 imprisonment with hard labor. The offence for 
 which this soldier was punished was for attempting 
 to stab his corporal. — [Limerick paper. 
 
 No Irish Need Apply. — So says Lord Mayor 
 Garden, following in the wake of advertisements 
 from ladies of delicate nerves, who once read sketch- 
 es of Irish charrcter out of a magazine of the past 
 century. These last would be content to send the 
 buxom and vigorous Hibernian, who should be so 
 ill advised as to neglect the warning, about her bus- 
 iness. The Lord Mayor thinks, no doubt, that it 
 would be inconsistent with the dignity of his posi- 
 tion to do so little. Accordingly, when an Irish- 
 woman comes before him, he adds to the floggee of 
 twenty-one days' hard labor, a preachee, in which 
 he insults an entire nation. On Wednesday, Mary 
 Horrigan was brought before him for smashing an 
 earthen jug over the head of Mary Cohen. Such 
 things are done, we are sorry to say, in most coun- 
 tries, and it would be somewhat rash to draw na- 
 tional deductions from such fragmentary evidence. 
 The broken pitcher, however, elicits from that sound- 
 est of all earthen vessels. Sir W. Garden, the follow- 
 ing remarks: — 'I wish,' he exclaims, ' that I had 
 the power to send all the Irish who come here back 
 to their own country. It is the most beautiful 
 country in the world they say, and I wish they'd 
 think so, and stop there. It would save a great 
 deal of my time, half of which in this court is taken 
 up with Irish quarrels.' 
 
 Certainly a great Inducement is here offered to 
 the Irish to stay at home, inasmuch as by so doing 
 they will 'save a great deal' of Alderman Garden's 
 time. The good use to which he, no doubt, puts it, 
 renders this an object of more importance. The 
 only cause for hesitation lies in the fact. We have 
 looked over the reports of the Mansion House, and 
 really do not see that Irish quarrels occupy much 
 time either of the Lord Mayor or of any one else. 
 When they do occur, which is by no means more 
 often than those of other people, they are disposed 
 of summarily enough, as was the case in the in- 
 stance in question. Something like half of the val- 
 uable lime spent in disposing of it was occupied in 
 simple abuse of the Irish nation. 
 
 The Lord Mayor would do well to consult the 
 Commander-in-chief, or, if that personage is inac- 
 cessible to him, the first recruiting sergeant he 
 meets, before he reiterates the wish that all the Irish 
 would remain in their own beautiful country. If 
 they did, it would seriously diminish British tri- 
 umphs abroad, whatever might be the effect on Sir 
 W. Garden's leisure moments at home — Morning 
 Chronicle. 
 
 The Brussels journals announce the death, at an 
 advanced age, in that city, of Mrs. Jones, the 
 mother of the well known carriage makers, who, 
 they say, was the oldest resident English woman, 
 not only of Brussels, but of all Belgium. She ar- 
 rived in Belgium in 1794, where she remained to 
 her death. 
 
 The Journal du Havre, in announcing the depar- 
 ture of Mrs Harriet Beecher Stowe from Rouen for 
 Paris, says that she has collected notes on Norman- 
 dy with a view of writing a work founded on a 
 French subject. 
 
 A treaty of commerce and navigation was concladed 
 between Belgium and the United States on the 7th nit. 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 77 
 
 Now Haven Correspondence of the Mitccllnny. 
 
 MILITARY EXCURSION OF THE EMMET 
 
 GUARDS. 
 
 On Wednesday, the 26th ult., the Emmet Guards 
 of this city held their first annual target excursion at 
 Branford. After parading the principle streets of the 
 city, the company marched to the steamboat wharf, 
 and went on board the steamer Champion, which they 
 had chartered for the occasion, accompanied by their 
 invited guests and some four hundred other persons. 
 Arriving at the Point, preparations were made for tar- 
 get firing — Messrs. Pinkerman and William Downes 
 of New Haven and Sergeant Bell of the Irish Fusileers 
 of New York, being the judges on the occasion. After 
 some excellent firing, the following prizes were 
 awarded : 
 
 The 1st prize, a Silver Pitcher, bearing a represen- 
 tation of Dr. Kane in the Arctic Regions, and present- 
 ed to the Company by Thomas Yeatman, Esq., was 
 won by Capt. Thos. W. Cahill. The 2d prize, a Sil- 
 ver Cake Basket, presented by Mr. P. A. Pinkerman, 
 was won by Michael Green. The 3rd prize, a Silver 
 Pitcher, presented by Michael Healey, was won by 
 Corporal Cook. The 4th prize, a Silver Caster, pre- 
 sented by James Lawler, was won by Thos. F. Me- 
 CatFrey. The 5ih Prize, a Silver Pitcher, presented 
 by Barthomolew Healy, was won by John MeCnsker. 
 The 6th prize, a Sih-er Pitcher, presented by Patrick 
 McCarten, was won by Daniel Hefferan, of Eairhaven. 
 The 7th prize, a Silver Cake Basket, presented by 
 Sergt. Bell of the Irish Fusileers of New York, was 
 won by Lieut. Maher. The 8th prize, two Silver Gob- 
 lets, presented by Thomas Healey, was won by Pat- 
 rick Reily. The 9th prize, a Silver Cup, presented by 
 Michael Leaden, was won by Sergeant McLaughin. 
 The 10th prize, a Silver Tea Set, presented by Patrick 
 Carroll, was won by James Hope, of Fairhaven. The 
 llth prize, a Gold Pen and Silver Case, presented 
 by Wm. Downes, was won by Patrick McGown. 
 The 12th prize, a Silver Watch, presented by Patrick 
 Ward, was won by Lawrence Curtiss. The 13th prize, 
 two volumes American Cyclopedia, presented by Rev. 
 E. J. O'Brien, was won by Michael Fahy. The Uth 
 prize, a Gold Pen and Silver Case, presented by Wm. 
 Brinley, was won by James Gunnip. The 15th prize, 
 one copy McGeoghan's History of Ireland, presented 
 by Patrick Morrissy, was won by Edward Lynch. 
 The 16ih prize, the sum of $.5.00 presented by Rev. 
 M. Hart, was won by Corporal Sheriden. 
 
 The line of march being taken np, the company, with 
 their friends and visitors, returned to the city ; ihe 
 Guards proceeded to their Armory, and were address- 
 ed by Wm. Downes, Esq., in his usual forcible and 
 eloquent manner. Having commended the Company 
 for their creditable display and soldier-like appearance, 
 he passed in brief but eloquent review, the Military 
 history of the Irish nation, from the Battle of Clon- 
 tarf to that of Vinegar Hill, and dwelt wiih rapture on 
 the military services of Irishmen in every State of 
 Continental Europe — their devotion to liberty as dis- 
 played in the service of the misused colonies of Spain 
 in South America, where Deveraux, the O'Higgins, 
 O'CarroUs, and McKennas, proved themselves worthy 
 compatriots of Bolivar and San Martin. The speaker 
 then sketched the services of Irishmen in the estab- 
 lishment and maintenance of the glorious system of 
 government under which it is our good fortune to 
 dwell. Wherever the banner of this republic had 
 been borne in battle, whether on land, lake or ocean, 
 there had ever been found Irishmen and the descend- 
 ants of Irishmen, gallantly fighting in its defence, 
 freely pouring out theie heart's blood on the spray of 
 the billow, the bayonet of the fo°, or the tomahawk of 
 the Indian. The lecturer concluded wiih an allusion 
 to the troubles which Irish Military Companies en- 
 dured in this State, from the bigotry of past Admin- 
 istrations, and a warm appeal to the Guard to be ever 
 mindful to encourage among themselves the integritv, 
 virtues and patriotism of Emmet, whose name they 
 bore. 
 
 The prizes were the most splendid ever contested 
 for by any company in this city. They -vere classified 
 
 as selected by the winners. The excursion was the 
 most pleasant of the season, and nothing occurred to 
 mar the enjoyment of the Guards and their guests, 
 who numbered over five hundred. Not the slightest 
 evidence of liquor could be detected among the excur- 
 sionists during this most joyous occasion. 
 
 Yours, truly, AvocA. 
 
 TO OUR SUBSCRIBERS— OUR CIFT PICTURE. 
 
 During the last fortnight we have received a large 
 number of letters from our subscribers in different 
 states, complaining of not having received our Gift 
 Picture, in accordance with a positive promise made 
 by us in a previous number of the Miscellany, 
 While we admit the justness of these complaints, 
 we beg the attention of our subscribers to a brief 
 statement of facts, which will, we think, satisfy 
 them, that the delay in the delivery of the picture 
 is owing to no fault of ours, but consequent upon 
 circumstances beyond our control. 
 
 When we first decided upon presenting our read- 
 ers with a picture illustrative of one of the most 
 daring and gallant exploits in the war with Wil- 
 liam, we applied to a large number of artists for a 
 sketch worthy of the subject. We received numer- 
 ous drawings from different individuals, every one 
 of which we were compelled to reject. Mr. Carter, 
 of New York, author of the celebrated painting, 
 which was for a long time on exhibition at Soule & 
 AVard's, in Summer St., in this city, entitled 'Cov- 
 ering the Retreat,' representing the retreat from 
 'Breed's Hill' to 'Bunker's Hill,' most kindly, at 
 our request, furnished us with a sketch which we 
 at once adopted. The difficulty in procuring a 
 suitable design caused a delay of several weeks. 
 
 However, we at length made an arrangement 
 with an artist to copy the sketch on stone, and en- 
 tered into a MOST positive agreement with a firm 
 of lithographic printers in this city to print us the 
 number requisite for our subscribers. The price 
 per hundred for printing was fixed upon in the 
 presence of witnesses, and we were promised two 
 hundred copies a day. About half of the requisite 
 number was delivered to us, with which we sup- 
 plied all our New England agents and subscribers, 
 and many of our agents and subscribers in the 
 south and west. Judge, then, our surprise when 
 we were waited upon by the junior member of the 
 firm in question, who demanded from us just twice 
 AS MUCH per hundred for the printing as they had 
 agreed to execute them for ! 
 
 It was in vain that we explained, argued and 
 reasoned. The gentleman relied upon some 'tech- 
 nicality' of the trade to bear him out in his exac- 
 ture, and was inexorable. The result is, they re- 
 fused to deliver us any more of our pictures, and 
 brought an action at law against us for the recovery 
 of their charge for those previously printed. This 
 action will be tried and settled in a few days, and 
 we much mistake the principles of common sense 
 and common justice, if such 'tricks of trade' can 
 triumph over a positive and deliberate agreement, 
 by which we have always been willing to abide. 
 
 We regret this occurrence very much, on account of 
 our subscribers, with whom we are anxious to keep 
 good faith. They will see at once the necessity of 
 resisting this shameful attempt at imposition, and we 
 trust they will bear the disappointment for a short 
 time longer. Knowing that we were pledged to the 
 delivery of the picture to our subscribers within a cer- 
 tain time, this conduct was essayed with the hope 
 that we would at once submit rather than disappoint 
 the large number of our subscribers yet unsupplicd. 
 We, therefore, under these circumstances, throw our- 
 selves upon the kind consideration of our friends, and 
 trust they will approve of the stand we have taken, 
 and exonerate us from nil blame in the matter. The 
 picture shall be delivered to ihcm as soon as possible, 
 even if we have to get a fresh drawing upon stone, and 
 employ other printers to fulfil the contract so unscru- 
 lously violated. 
 
 It is but justice to our indefatigable New York 
 agents, Messrs Dexter & Brothers, and to all supplied 
 by ihem, to say that they have not yet received any 
 copies of the picture. Our arrangements were made 
 last week to supply Ihem with their lull complement in 
 one lot, when this unpleasant dispute took place. We 
 deeply regret its occurrence ; but no foresight of ours 
 could guard against it. Let our friends have patience 
 a little while longer. We have so often had to tres- 
 pass upon their kindness, it is with great regret we 
 have to do it once more. Our difficulties have been 
 innumerable. We trust this is the last of them. 
 
 The Corner Stone of St. Peter's College in Troy, 
 N. Y., was laid with appropriate solemnities on 
 Thursday morning last. The ground is located at 
 the head of Washington street, and the foundation 
 has already been constructed. Upon this a hand- 
 some edifice is to be erected, well adapted for the 
 educational purposes for which it is to be used. The 
 building will be 200 feet long, the walls 72 feet, divided 
 into four stories. There will be two towers, each 90 
 feet in height, one designed for an observatory and the 
 other to contain a bell. From a plan of the b'oilding 
 shown us representing it as it will look when comple- 
 ted, this College will be a remarkably handsome edifice 
 and an ornament to Troy. 
 
 St. Peter's College has been organized mainly 
 through the efforts of Rev. Ptter Haverraans, and 
 when completed, will add another to the many build- 
 ings in that part of the city — among them a Hospital, 
 Orphan Asylum, and Schools — all monuments to his 
 unwearied efforts and patient labors. Father Haver- 
 mans is now soliciting subscriptions in aid of the Col- 
 lege, and his efforts have thus far been met with the 
 utmost success The exercises attending the laying 
 of the corner stone were of the most interesting and 
 imposing character, and attracted many visit- 
 ors. 
 
 Animal Conflagration. — It has been seldom our 
 misfortune, says the Cincinnati Examiner, to hear of 
 anything at our own doors, so truly sickening to 
 a well-disposed mind, as that which has this week be- 
 fallen a life of honest industry, in the person of Wm. 
 Hogan. Summed up, the facts all come to this; a 
 whole farmyard of live stock, cows, and horses, and 
 other domestic animals, the property of an honest Irish 
 dairyman, were burned alive, and reduced to cinders ! 
 This happened on Tuesday night, 24th ult., about 
 10 or 11 o'clock, and is attributed to malicious incen- 
 diarism ; but poor Hogan, when asked if he suspect- 
 ed any particular villain, replied in the negative, say- 
 ing he was not conscious of having ever made an en- 
 emy. We hope that this honest dairyman will not lose 
 his customers — that they will consider his hard lo', 
 and make no contracts that would prevent them from 
 again giving him their patronage, when it shall please 
 a favoring Providepce to enable him again to ask it. 
 
 TO CORRESPONDENTS. 
 
 CT" Our Corkespondents should forward commnnica- 
 tioHS intended for insertion in the MisctUany, not later than 
 the Saturday before the day of publication, as our increas- 
 ing: circulation compels us to po to press everv Monday 
 morning; and should be addressed— ' Editors of the Iri.sh 
 Miscellany, lio.ston, Mass.' Subscribers should mention the 
 township, county and State in which they reside. 
 
 'JosEPU Hart,' St. Louis, Mo. — Your paper is forwarded 
 regularly from tliis oflice every Tuesday. We cannot ac- 
 count for its not reacliing vou. The fault must be in the 
 Tost Oflice. We sent you the gift picture through the same 
 source a fortnight before the receipt of your letter. Let us 
 know if you have received it. >Ve hope it has not been 
 stolen. 
 
 OtJR Newport friend must remember that our terras are 
 cash in advance. We can make no exception to this rule. 
 We will supply a club ot ten for Sl*i. 
 
 'Helena,' New v'ork.— The sentiment of your poetry 
 docs you credit; but the verses do not come up to our 
 standard. 
 
 'James Coutes.' New York. — We will endeavor to 
 answer your questions in a luture number. 
 
 ' Garryowen,' St. Louis. Mo. — The palace of Kincora 
 was situated on the banks of the Shannon, near Killaloe. 
 There is not at present a vestige of it standing. 
 
 ' KNyriRKit,' Boston.— Colonel Villars commanded the 
 convoy which was snpri-ed by Sarsdeld, as represented in 
 our gift picture of that gallant e.vploit. The most daring 
 feature in the affair was the fact that it took place in close 
 proximity to William'! oamp. 
 
n 
 
 IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 VARIOUS ITEMS. 
 
 TiCERE is a clock in Now Uuviu three hundred 
 and forty-nine ytars old. 
 
 What is the lightest shi]) tlmt man ever embarked 
 in ? Courtship. 
 
 Don't meet trouhles lialf way, for thiy are not 
 worth the complinunt. 
 
 The old lady who believes every calamity that 
 happens to herself a trial, luid every one that hap- 
 pens to her tiicnds a judgment, is not yet dead. 
 
 AVoMAN has found her true ' sphere ' at last. It 
 is about twenty-seven feet round, and is made of 
 hoops and crinoline. 
 
 It is the opinion of a 'Western editor that wood 
 goes further when left out of doors than when well 
 housed. He says sonic of bis went half a mile. 
 
 A member of the Lazy Society was complained of 
 for running. His defence was that he was going 
 downhill, and that it was more labor to walk than 
 run. 
 
 An exchange speaks of a chap with feet so large 
 that when it Tains or when he wants to get in the 
 shade, he lies down on his back and holds up one 
 foot. It fully answers the purpose of an umbrella. 
 Laoies don't know whether they like smoking 
 or not. AVith special favorites they like it; with 
 general favorites they dislike it ; with no favorites 
 they detest it. 
 
 Like the colored bottles in the ehemist's win- 
 dow, is rouge on the cheek of a maiden ; it attracts 
 the passers by, but all know the drug they adver- 
 tise. 
 
 'I wovi.i) go to the end of the world to please you,' 
 said a whir.ing lover to his adored. ' Well, sir, go 
 there and stay,' was the kind reply, ' and I shall be 
 pleased.' 
 
 AVuv is a pretty young lady like a locomotive 
 engine r Don't give it up — there are lots of reasons. 
 She sends off the sparks, transports the mails 
 (males) has a train follow her, and passes over the 
 plain. 
 
 A QiAKF.u having sold a fine-looking, but blind 
 horse, asked the purchaser : 'AVell, my friend, dost 
 thou see any fault with him ?' ' No,' was the an- 
 swer. ' Neither will he see any in thee,' said old 
 Broadbrim. 
 
 A YOCNG lad recently ran away from home and 
 went to a lavern, where he was founi! by a friend, with 
 a cigar in his mouth. ' What made you leave home V 
 ' Oh, confound it,' said be, father and mother were so 
 saucy I couldn't stand it any longer, and I quit 'em.' 
 A FiiENCH writer has said that ' to dream glo- 
 riously, you must act gloriously while you are 
 awake ; and to bring angels down to converse with 
 you in your sleep, you must labor in the cause of 
 virtue during the day.' 
 
 Dan Gray, an old fisherman, caught a large perch 
 a day or two ago, in which a plain gold ring, with 
 the initials, ' K. F. O.' was found. What a roman- 
 tic interest and history may that little band of gold 
 embrace ! 
 
 A MEMDEK of the Hope Hose Company of Phila- 
 delphia, attending, with the company, the funeral 
 of a fallen member, dropped dead in the Cemetery 
 while the officiating clergyman was addressing those 
 present on the uncertainty of life. 
 
 ■\VnEX Lord Townsend was Lord Lieutenant of 
 Ireland, the then I'lovost of Dublin lost no oppor- 
 tunity of repeating solicitations for ' places.' ' My 
 dear Uvly,' said his lordship, • you have a great 
 many things, and I have nothing to give but a cap- 
 taincy of Dragoons.' ' I accept it then,* replied the 
 Provost. ' What, you take a captaincy,' answered 
 his lordship. 'Zounds! it is impo^sible; I only 
 meant it as a joke.' 'And I accept it," said the 
 Provost, ' merely to show you how well I can take 
 a joke. 
 
 Wm. Mbasb, a slave, recently bought himself at I 
 auction, in Memphis, Tenne-sce. ] 
 
 Dli. .McKkszib, the lilernry editor of the Philadel- 
 phia I'ress, says the original of Wilkiiis Miiawlur, in j 
 ' Diniil Coppcrfi^ld,' was Dii kens' own father. j 
 
 ' I ALWAYS sing to pleoiie myself,' said a gentleman, | 
 who WHS humming a tune in company. ' Then you | 
 are not at all dillieult to please,' said a lady who sat I 
 nr.Nt to him. j 
 
 TiiK value of slave properly in Mississippi, is $229,- 
 0UO,2'iO Each slave in the parish ol St. Mary, Loui- 
 si.Hia, nets his in«ster S174 a year, almost tliirly-lhree 
 percent, of his assessed value. 
 
 Tiiti use of guano in Great Britain has more than 
 treblid within a year. The importation iu 1857 amount- 
 ed to hut 5'J,038 tons, while in 1858 it amounted to 
 174,801. 
 
 A DisTiNGVisuEi) lady once reproved the librarian 
 for putting books written by male and female au- 
 thors upon the same shelf. ' Never do it,' said she, 
 ' withoat putting a prayer-book between them.' 
 
 It is not knowledge alone which makes us hiippy ; 
 it is the quidity ol the knowledge. Perfect knowledge 
 is conviction ; and it ii lonvictioti which makes us i 
 happy, which ab^olutely saii-lies us, and which changes 
 dead knowledge into living. 
 
 We have a span of horses, said a Yankee the other 
 day at our place, that support themselves without any 
 cost. ' W!iy, how is it 7' exclaimed alistener. 'Why, 
 you see,' lemnrked the questioned, ' ope is a rocking- 
 horse and the other a clothes-horse. 
 
 'Pa,' simpered a young boarding-school piece of 
 codfish, ' are you going to have a eoat-of-arms paint- 
 ed on the panels of our new carriage ?' • Yes, child,' 
 replied the sober-minded parent, ' a saw and a buck, 
 for with that I earned my first money.' 
 
 Gov. MoKUis, wliile the surgeons were amputating 
 hi* leg, observed his servant standing by, weeping. 
 ' Totn,' said Mr. MoiTis, 'why are you crying there? 
 It is rank hypocrisy — you wish to laugh, as in future 
 vou will have but one shoe to clciin instead of two.' 
 
 ' TnitouGH every part of my literary career, I have 
 felt pinched and hampered at my own ignorance.' This 
 candid and ruthcr sad conlession of Sir Walter Scott, 
 in his biography, is one of those rare examples of 
 honest self-humiliation, which might be imitated with 
 profit by thousands of later authors. 
 
 It is a characteristic of narrow-minded men, that 
 they grasp the few ideas which lie within the limited 
 circle of their comprehension, with a clearness which 
 often deceives us in our estitnate of their intellect. 
 They are like beggars, who know the stamp and date 
 of every penny in their pockets. 
 
 The ship Roger Stewart, Capt. Turner, from 
 Havre, arrived at New Orleans on Saturday, 13th 
 ult., with nineteen cabin and twelve steerage pas- 
 sengers. Among the former were seven Catholic 
 priests, five sisters of charity, and four nuns, the 
 greater portion of whom, we are informed, are en 
 route for Texas. 
 
 ' Massa says you must sartin pay de bill to-day,' 
 says a negro to a New Orleans shop-keepet. ' AV hy, 
 ho isn't afraid I'm going to run away, is he ?' ' Not 
 e'zactly dat, but look ahea," said the darkey, myste- 
 riously, 'he's gwine to run away heself, and darfor 
 wants to make a big raise !' 
 
 Messrs. Tiffany & Co., jewellers. New York, 
 have purchased from the .Atlantic Telegraph Com- 
 pany, the 80 miles of cable now on board the Niaga- 
 ra, and they propose to cut it up in small parcels for 
 distribution throughout the country. 
 
 An Ohio editor recently attempted to describe the 
 powerful effects of warm weather, and here is one 
 instance : — ' A small negro hoy injudiciously leaned 
 up against the sunny side of the house yesterday, 
 and fell asleep. In a few minutes he began to soft- 
 en, and in three quarters of an hour he run all over 
 the yard. His mother dipped him up in a wash tub.' 
 
 Tmrillino Scknk at CArB May. — A cori:cnpnnd- 
 ent of the I'hihuli Iphiii Inquirer descrihis a ihrilling 
 seine at Alhintic Ciiy a few days since, owing to iho 
 
 perilous position of Miss T , ol ."ienuloi Slidcll's 
 
 family, who, wiili Mr. Boimi'Tilie, from New Orleans, 
 while liaihing, got heyond the surf. The lady said she 
 was sinking, and Mr. U., who could not swim, louml 
 himself helpless in his etfori-. to rescue her. I was u 
 spectator ol the scene. The gentleman struggled and 
 sunk, but the yining lady upptarid to he floating easily 
 and rapidly went fiv with ihe receding tide. When 
 the perils of these hathcrs weie fully appreciaied llio 
 shrieks of femah s and ihe cries of men added lo the 
 general alarm. This case seemed hopeless, for there 
 was no boat, no cord, no stiik by which it could bo 
 deemed safe to upproiieh the suffering parties. Still 
 some hold Iieart9 went to work, and by great effort 
 succeeded in catching Mr 15., who was dragged, ap- 
 parinrly IllVhss iqion the beach. K\cn after this was 
 done the lady still floated otiwiud, hut by the energy 
 of Mr. Clayton was aroused from a stale ol syncope, 
 and made to seize a j)hitik by wliiih she was drawn to 
 the beach. Her preservation was miraculous, for 
 having learned the rules tor flnatnig, she thi'ew herself 
 into the proper position helbre hhe became insensible 
 and thus her body ki pt upon the suifaee of the wave. 
 Had she clung to her companion both must have been 
 drowned. 
 
 RoBHKKY AT THE U. S, MiNT — On Widnpfday 
 last two wcll-d rctsed youi g men visisid the Uiiilid 
 Statt s Mint, at Phihidel|iliia, and whilst in the build- 
 ing succeeded in loMiii'g the c.diir.et of eoius. An 
 attendant acconipanicd ilicm through several depart- 
 ments, but while in the ' specimen loom,' or cabinet 
 where there is a very lurge collection of old and new 
 valuable coins, no one was in their company. After 
 passing about twenty minutes at the Mint they took 
 their leave, and returned their thanks to the cfticcrs for 
 the kindness all'orded them in having been permitted 
 to inspect the many objects of interest thi rein exhibited. 
 But shortly alter their deparlurc it was discovered that 
 one of the cases of the cabinet had been ojiened by 
 means of a false key, and the fidlowing articles feloni- 
 ously taken theiefroin : A square slug of gold, valued 
 at f irty dollars ; one twenty live dollar gold piece ; 
 and a twenty dollar California gold piece. Information 
 was forwarded to the office of recoider Eneu, where a 
 a description of the stolen proper ty, and those suspected 
 of the roblicry, was given to detective officer Edward 
 G. Carlin, who within an hour of the robbery arrested 
 two persans giving the names of Charles Mervineand 
 Charles Morris, and hy positive evidence succeeded in 
 fixing the crime upon them. The prisoners are both 
 young men of refined address, and when questioned as 
 to their places of residence refused lo give any answer. 
 It is thought that the names whii'li they have given 
 are assumed ones. They were committed in detault of 
 S2,500 bail euch. [National Intelligencer. 
 
 The Police of Lonuon. — The police of London 
 are seven thousand strong, and are believed to be 
 the most efficient body of the kind in the world. A 
 letter to the New York E.xpress says : — ' They are 
 bold men, perfectly fearless, most of them of long 
 experience, and ready at any moment to grapple 
 with a rogue or ruffian. I have seen them handle 
 two or three fellows who were disposed to resist 
 their authority in a way which was a caution to 
 peace disturbers. 
 
 They are about everywhere, especially active in pre- 
 serving order on the Salibath, and in walking the streets 
 of London ir is difficult to be heyond the sight or call 
 of a policeman. As they are retained during good be- 
 havior, and are not subject to political change, and do 
 not feel anxious about offending pothouse politicians, 
 or hesitate to refuse to fraternize with drunken row- 
 dies, they are doubly ellicieni, and are ever prompt in 
 ihe discharge of duty. Their uniform is neat, ai.d 
 every man seems to average six feet.' 
 
 Cyrus W. Field I a. crossid the Atlantic 21 times 
 in the service of the Atlantic Telegraph Company. 
 
IKISn MISCELLANY. 
 
 SUBSCRIBE! SUBSCRIBE! SUBSCRIBE! 
 
 THE I H I S H M I S C H I. L A N Y 
 1NDUCKMKNT9 TO NliW yuiiSt'U! r.KltS. 
 
 OUR NEW VOLUME. 
 
 Ilnviii}? fiivontbly comnK'Uccil the secoini volume of our 
 publiontioii, wc seize the oocusion for t)ie purpose of teu- 
 during tliiiuks to those of our frieuds who Imve so generous- 
 ly coutributcd to our support. To stnrt, itiid successfully 
 onrrj' on nn ordinary newspnpcr, so that it will, in a rea- 
 sonable space of tinte, become remunerative to its proprie- 
 tors, isa task not easily accomplislied, and whicli consum- 
 mation does not generally happen in one case out of a hun- 
 dred. Our enterprise, being of a nature entirely dill'erent 
 from that of any otiier Iri.-h paper heretofore established 
 in this country— requiring a much greater expenditure of 
 capital and artistic talent— cau-^ed us serious misgivings, 
 and a constant ftnr that it would not meet the desires and 
 expectations of our patrons, llow far oujuflorts have been 
 sueccssful, is for them to decide; but, we trust that it will 
 not be considered egolitlical on oui- part when we assert 
 that the lli.^^cellany has far exceeded the most sanguine ex- 
 pectations of partial friends, and that even those who have 
 been enemies from the start have made suitable acknowl- 
 edgment of its merit. 
 
 Since we have had the control of the Miscellany our way 
 lias not been— 
 
 'The primrose path of dalliance ' 
 
 yVe have been beset by obstacles innumerable i but having 
 a strong coulidence in our ultimate success, we were deter- 
 mined to surmount all barriers, and though we have not, 
 as yet, brought the paper to that pitch of perfection which 
 is our desire, we trust soon to make it as acceptable as is 
 possible to our readers. 
 
 In beginning a new volume, we introduce various inno- 
 vations, tending to the improvement of the paper, in 
 every way that is possible. We shall give each week, an 
 epitome of Irish news— not the hacknied local quotations 
 which interest only the few, but extracts from the leading 
 journals, which will be gratifying to the many. In this 
 respect, we will not be following in the steps of any of our 
 contemporaries, but, on the contrary, will be striking out 
 a path eminently our own. It will also be our aim to give 
 the best class of wood engravings which can be procured, 
 portraying national subjects, and, as our outlay in this re- 
 spect will be infinitely largerthan that of any Irish journal 
 published in this country, we look for a commensurate re- 
 turn. In short, it is our irteiition to make the paper meet 
 the requirements of all classes of readers. 
 
 As an inducement, therefore, to new subscribers, we offer 
 to each person who will pay one years' subscription in ad- 
 vance, commencing with the first number of the first 
 volume, (not the second, as inadvertantly stated in previous 
 numbers,) directly to us or through any of our authorized 
 local or travelling agents, a copy of our first Gilt' I-'icture, 
 representing Sarslield's Surprise of the Seige Train of the 
 Prince of Orange. When completed, each volume of the 
 Miscellany will form a book of four hundred and six- 
 teen (41lj) pages, and will alone be worth the price of an 
 entire year's subscription. The same inducements are oft'er- 
 ad to clubs, as to single subscribers. 
 
 CLUBS! CLUBS!! CLUBS!!! 
 
 There is no town or village so small, but a club of six or 
 more subscribers for the Irish Sliscellany can be easily ob- 
 tained. Will those of our friends who are well-wishers of 
 the land of their birth, do us the favor of getting up Clubs. 
 Our terms will be — 
 To a cl ub of six persons sent to one address, $10,00 
 
 To a club of twelve, 19.00 
 
 The whole of the money must invariably be sent at one 
 remittance, and in advance. 
 
 In addition to this great reduction of price, each member 
 of a Club will be entitled to copies of all our splendid Gift 
 Pictures. Let our friend*exert themselves, and by their 
 patronage make the Miscellany the foremost Irish jourua 
 on this continent. 
 
 TRAVELLING AGENTS WANTED. 
 
 We have (letermined to appoint a number of Travelling 
 Agents, to travel in the various .States of the Union and 
 canvass for subscribers for this paper We do this at the 
 earnest request of many warm friends, who think we do 
 not take the reciuisite steps to make the paper known as ex- 
 tensively as it ought to be. 
 
 I'ersons desirous of becoming Travelling Agents, who 
 can be well recomniended, are requested to apply at our 
 olKcc forthwith. None but faithful, reliable men need ap- 
 ply. To such a liberal commission will be allowed. Apply 
 at ourrublicafion Olhce. 4 Winter strpc*. liosti>n. 
 
 Back Numbei-.b of the Miscellany, from the commence- 
 ment of tlie paper, maybe procured through any of our 
 regular agents, or by sending direct to the ollicc of publi- 
 cation, No. 4 Water street, Uostou. Will our Irieuds in 
 want bear this fact in mind? 
 
 ADVEETISEMEWTS. 
 
 W. J. IIENNESSY, 
 ARTIST, 
 
 No. 37 I'KANKLIN STKEET, 
 NEW YORK CITY. 
 
 FRANCIS GODFREY, 
 
 IMrORTER AND liE.SIOUEI! OF 
 
 ITALIAN PAINTINGS, 
 
 AND MANUFACTURER OF GILT F AMES, 
 
 12 Eeakklin Stkeet, Boston. 
 Sy Engravings, Lithographs, Crayons, &c., on sale 
 
 MERCANTILE AND WRITING SCHOOL, 
 
 E. J. GLEESON, SI.vstek. 
 
 This School is now opened at No. 23 Tohtland Street, 
 a few doors south of Dooley's Exchange Hotel, where a 
 select and limited number of the Youth of both sexes will 
 be admitted ; time from 9 A. M. to 12 M., and from 2 1'. M 
 
 tosr. M. 
 
 TERHTS lilODERATE. 
 
 EVENING SCHOOL! 
 
 This school will he opened in the same place on the first 
 evening of next month, where adults and those of riper 
 years, will be carefully and assiduously instructed in the 
 various brauchtsot learning-, suitable to their calling. 
 
 BOOK-KEEPING : 
 
 Mr. Gleeson ventures to say, and pledges himself without 
 hesitation, that he will qualify young gentlemen for the 
 Counting lioom, in half the time that is consumed in simi- 
 lar institutions in this city, and at considerable less ex- 
 pense. 
 
 August 17th, 1858. aug28 
 
 FINE READY MADE CLOTHING 
 
 SPUING OVERCOATS, 
 
 BUSINESS COATS, 
 
 FKOCK AND DEESS COATS, 
 
 PANTS AND VESTS, 
 Good, Sttlish, Well Made Garments, 
 Such as men of taste and good judgment will wear, can at 
 ail times be found at our store. 
 Our aim is to produce for our customers the best Eeady 
 Made Garments at the lowest possible prices pok 
 CASH. 
 
 Readers of this Journal are earnestly solicited to exam- 
 ine our goods before purchasing. 
 
 J W. SMITH & CO., 
 
 Dock Square, cokkeii Elm Street. 
 my 11 tf 
 
 GENERAL TICKET OFEIQE 
 
 — for the — 
 
 SOUTHERN AND WESTERN STATES 
 
 THE CANADAS, 
 No. 2 Albamy Street, Uobton. 
 
 EDWARD RYAN, Agent. 
 
 N. B. — Passage to and from Liverpool, and Bills of Ex- 
 change on England, Ireland and Scotland. 
 
 ap24 ly 
 
 NORTHERN HOUSE, 
 
 KORTH SQtJARE — BOSTON. 
 
 JOHN GLANCY' Proprietor. 
 
 This House has rooms equal to any first class Hotel, and 
 permanent or transient Boarders can be accommodated 
 nearly one half cheaper than at any other House in the 
 City. 
 
 In the Reading Room can he found all the morning and 
 evening papers, and periodicals of the day, together with 
 an CNtcnsivc Library, for tlie free and exc]u6i\e use of 
 tlic Boauderb. 
 
 N. B. Slr.Trgcre visiting Boston, can always And this 
 House a Home. 
 
 G 
 
 ILMOKE'b SALEM yUADRTLLF, BAND. E. I'P- 
 TTON, .Jr.. Prompter. Apply to V. S. Gilmork. Es- 
 , Salem, 3Iass. Sm fehl3 
 
 ADVERTISEMENTS, 
 
 THE IKISII VINDICATOR, 
 
 A WEEKLY NEWSPAPER, 
 
 The Best and Cueapubt Publisheu in Aweuica. 
 
 THIS splendid Paper, which is little over nine mouths 
 in existence, has met with the 
 
 MOST W O N D E R F U L S U C C E S S , 
 
 and has been pronounced by the Press and the Public to be 
 
 BUijerior to any other Irish Weekly in the United Stales. 
 
 It contains each week, the very 
 
 Latest News pitoM every County im Ireland ; 
 
 Original and entertaining 
 
 STORIES AND ANECDOTES, 
 
 and a variety of Miscellaneous Reading matter, of a chara6- 
 ter which cannot fail to elevate and cliasten the intel- 
 lectual appetite. The Irish Vindicator is devoted 
 
 to' THE INTERESTS OF IlilSHMEN IN AMERICA, 
 and is so cheap as to be within the reach of the poorest. 
 
 ONLY THREE CENTS A COPY. 
 
 the following are the terms 
 
 To any part of the United States, for one year, SI. 50 
 
 Do. do. do. for 8 months, 1.00 
 
 Do. do. do. for 4 months, 0.60 
 
 Do. do. do. fori month, 0.12 
 
 To any part of Canada or the British I'roviiices, one year, 
 
 ^2,00 — All payments in advance. 
 
 POR advertising, 
 
 12 lines, single insertion §1.00 | 12 lines, 1 month, »2.50 
 
 12 do. 3 months, 5.50 1 12 do. 1 year, IC.OO 
 
 Published every w^eek, at the Office, No 10 Spruce street, 
 
 New Y'ork, by the Proprietors. 
 
 EDWARD DOWT^ES CONNERY & CO. 
 New York, march 27 
 
 THE SOUTHERN CITIZEN, 
 
 TS published weekly at Knoxville, Tennessee, bv JOHN 
 MITCHELL & WM. G. SWAN, at S?2 per annum, or 
 81 for SIX months, paA able invariably in advance. 
 
 Mr. Mitchell having eommenced in the 28th number ot 
 the paper, a series of Letters addressed to the Hon. Alex- 
 ander H. Stephens of Georgia, which when completed will 
 furnish an entire history ot 
 
 THE IRISH TROUBLES OF 1848, 
 
 With their Causes and Consequences, 
 
 The Southern Citizen will be the more interesting to both 
 American and Irish readers. Besides these contributions 
 from Mr. Mitchel, the Southern Citizen will continue to 
 have its usual quantity of original matter upon political 
 and literary subjects prepared by him. The circulation, 
 though large and constantly increasing, the proprietors 
 have thought will be much more extended by an announce- 
 ment in this form. 
 
 Communications with remittances may be addresed to 
 Mitchel & Swan, Knoxville, Tennessee, or to any of the 
 following Agents; 
 
 S G Courtenay & Co, Charleston. S C; Thomas B O'Con- 
 nor, Savannah, Ga; J C Morgan, New Orleans, La; Jas A 
 Gentrv, Qichmond, Va; Alexander Adamsnn, Washington 
 
 city; tallinage&Tunncr, Cinch ti.d: P.M Havertv,110 
 
 Fulton street, N Y; S H Goetzel. ;:; li;ui]iliiii street. Mobile 
 Ala; Benj B Davis, Masonic Buiidiiiix. ^lourgoniery, Ala; 
 Ross & Toucey, 121 Nassau street, Is Y, supply dealers only 
 upon reasonable terms; James McGinn, 121 liearney street 
 San Francisco. 
 
 *#* Clubs of ten will be supplied with the paper tor SI5. 
 
 WILLIAM K. O'BRIEN, 
 
 77 third avemhe, new york. 
 
 — Manufacturer of.— 
 
 LOOKING-GLASS', PORTRAIT 
 
 AND 
 
 PICTURE FRAMES, 
 
 W/ioltsalr and Rtlail. 
 
 Oil Paintings and Engravings framed and varnished. 
 
 Orders promptly executed, packed and shipped to any part 
 
 my22 of the country. 3m* 
 
 DO'ROURKE, respectfully informs his friends and the 
 . public, that he keeps constantiv on luiud COFFINS 
 of all sizes and kinds, at his Collir. ■.^liuiuliietorv. No. 347 
 Federal, between Reach and Kiieihiuil Slicels', Boston, 
 which he will sell as reasonable as can be houghtat any oth- 
 er place in the city. 
 
 N. B.— Orders punctually attended to, day or nigbt. 
 
 Residence, No. 28 South street, Boston. 
 
 [C?"Gravc-Clothes ftiruished to order at short notice. 
 
 feblS 
 
 PASSENGER CERTIFIC.VTES.j 
 
 TO OLD CdlM I.VMrx. Owen Mo Namara has 
 Pai^sage Ciiiin. :iii :ii 'I I'nifts always on hand and 
 
 for sale. As \v Hn, - in. ■- lor that most respectable 
 
 house. (Williiini> .t iMihnii ni .N.-w York. Old Countrvmen 
 desiring to send liir tli.ir ineiiils, or remit money, would 
 do welfto give him a call atNo. 4GuuuAM St.. opposite 
 Summer St.. Lowell. Mass Dp2;: 
 
 BS. TliEANOK, ATKlliNEY AND CDINSELLUR 
 . AT LAW, 15 Ma.ssacliu.<etl8 Block. Court Square, 
 Boston. 
 
 P.. /*I*articular attention paid to Conveyancing, and tlie 
 examination of titles of Real Estate. fcbl3 
 
80 
 
 IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 The Democratic Statb Convkntion in session 
 at Worcester, rt'-nominatcd the Hon. Ernsmus D. 
 Beac'li of SpriiigtifUl, for Governor, on Thur.-day last, 
 by a handsome miijority, whiili was subsequently made 
 unanimous, amid great enthusiasm. As a polilieian, 
 Mr. Beach has always stood before the public as a 
 strici party man on questions involving puny princi- 
 ples. He was first introduced to the nsseml)led De- 
 mocracy of the State as President of a Springfield 
 Convention, in which capacity he made a very favora- 
 ble impression, which proved permanent ; but he be- 
 came more widely known in 1851, when, as a mem- 
 ber of the Stale Senate, he firmly stood aloof from the 
 coalition of the Democrats and Freesoilers, by wliich 
 Charles Sumner was elicted a United States Senator. 
 Mr. Charles Thompson of Charlcstown, was nomina- 
 ted al the same time, for Litutenant Governor. He 
 is an iron merchant doinj; business in this city, and 
 has loni; been au active member of the Democratic 
 party, particularly in Middlesex county. He has 
 been a member of the State Senate. Mr. Ezra Wil- 
 kinson ot Dedham, the nominee for Attorney General, 
 is one of the ablest and most experienced lawyers with- 
 in the Democratic ranks in Massachusetts. He was 
 for a long period Attorney for the Commonwealth for- 
 the Southern District. Mr. Silas Pierce of Boston, 
 the nominee for State Treasurer, is a respectable 
 merchant, whose int grity is above all question, and 
 whose responsibility is ample. Mr. John M. Cole of 
 Williainstown, is the nominee for Secretary of the 
 Commonwealih, and Mr. Seymour L. M'-ad of Nan- 
 tucket, the nominee for State Amlitor. Tlie Boston 
 Courier, so long the great exponent of Whig doc- 
 trines, and at this moment the foremost journal in New 
 England, has pi .ced at the head of iis columns the 
 Democratic State ticket. So intense is the feeling 
 everywhere against the 'liiile politicians t ho 
 guide the ship of S ale, that we confidently look for 
 the clectiun of ihe above-named gentlemen. Harmo- 
 nious efi"ort now on the part of Unionists will ett'ec- 
 tually overthrow the malignant philanthropists and 
 corrupt seciionalists who have only too long disgraced 
 Massachusetts politics both at home and abroad. 
 
 Tub Tblborapb Jdbii.bb in New York on the 
 1st and 2nd instant, proved an immense attraction, 
 and the city was literally thronged with visitors. The 
 parade of the military and the procession of the trades 
 and civic societies were in the highest degree imposing. 
 In the afternoon, the Crystal Palace was the- centre of 
 attraction, wIhtu presentations were made toC\rus 
 W. Field, Capt. Hudson, Mr. Everett, and the Niag- 
 ara seamen, with an address of congratulation and 
 compliment Arrangements were made for a splen- 
 did illumination in the evening, and many of the 
 buildings on Broadway, were gorgeously arrayed. 
 Haughtwout's warehouse showed 8000 variegated 
 lights. Thursday, a graml banquet was given at the 
 Metropolitan Hotel, at which Lord Napier and other 
 distinguished guests were piescnt. 
 
 The Trial of Steam Engines on Boston Common, 
 Wednesday and Thursday, was very interesting. In- 
 cluding both days, four steam fire engines were pre- j 
 sented for exhibition and passed through the critical ' 
 tests proposed by the committee. It would be difficult 
 to convey to our readers any adequate view of tlie 
 comparative merits of the several machines, unless in 
 a detailed account, for which we have no space. 
 
 SOUTH END CATHOLIC BOOK STORE, 
 
 And Deput fur the Sale of the 
 
 METROPOLITAN AND YOUTHS' MAGAZINES. 
 
 WILLIAM KEATINCi, AoKNT, 
 
 8 1-2 HarriKOn Avenue, or at his New Periodical Store, 178 
 
 HurriKOn A\-eiuie, HoKtoii, Mass., 
 
 Where a >;real \ ariuty of the most |iupul.ir itoukn and 
 
 I'aperR cam be liad at the very lowest prices, 
 
 WILL Bupply Clubs, Agents. CauvaxHers, &c.. on the 
 same terms as the TublisherB. The following are 
 the terras— 3 copies will be sent by mail, to one adUrcim, lor 
 one year So; G copies for SIO; 13 copies for 820; 20 copies 
 for l?30. 
 
 Sy' On the receipt of 83. three copies of the Catholic 
 Youth's Maga^diie and one copy of the Metrupolituu will 
 be mailed regularly for one year. 
 
 [T?" A lew sets of the Magazines from the beginning, can 
 be had of the Ageut. Also, ail new books furuished as 
 soon as published. ap24 3mos 
 
 P . M O U U I S , 
 
 APOTHECARY, 
 Comer of Federal and Purchase streets, foot of Summer 
 1 street, Boston. 
 
 STRICT personal attention paid to compounding Physl 
 ciau's Prescriptions. A clioice selection of Family 
 Aledlcines constantly on hand. A well selected stock of 
 genuine imported Perfumery and Fancy (joods. Soda 
 Waterwitli choice Syrups. A large assortment of genuine 
 Havana Segars constantly on hand. ap5 
 
 ADVERTISEMENTS, 
 
 Bhidopout, Conn., Aug. 28th, 1858. ' 
 Editor of the Irish Miscellany :— When the forma- 
 tion of the Know Nothing Party first disgraced this 
 glorious republic, one of their leading propositions was 
 the disbandment of foreign military companies, mean- 
 ing thereby companies, a majority of whose members 
 were citizens of Irish birth, or the sons of Irishmen. 
 This proposal was carried out in Massachusetts and 
 Connecticut, by Governor Gardner of the former and 
 Governor Minor of the latter State ; the other States of 
 the Union, though they had material enough to work 
 on, were not so despotic as to deprive citizens of one »f 
 the privileges guaranteed by the Constitution of the 
 United States, the right to have amis, &c. 
 
 As its but fair that the Irish and their children should 
 know the two men who singled them out as being un- 
 worthy of the right of Freemen, I would suggest that 
 you procure a likeness of those Governors and give 
 them in the Miscellany, merely stating the year of their 
 election, and the deed that will make them rank among 
 tyrants. Montoomebt. 
 
 P. S. Why don't the members of the companies 
 disbanded in Massachusetts form independant com- 
 panies ? It would be a sore blow to the party, and a 
 source of brotherhood and good feeling amongst our 
 countrymen. 
 
 The Hartford Press learns that on Sunday after- 
 noon, at the Almshouse, a woman whose name is given 
 as McCarthy, was shut in a room in the fourth story 
 for being disorderly during religious services, jumped 
 ont, and falling to the ground, broke her neck and died 
 instantly. 
 
 F*TAL AccinEKT.— A man named Patrick Conlon, 
 being ont after rabbits, in Ashbornhara, on Sunday, 
 the '.;ath ult., was accidentally killed while taking his 
 guu out of the wagon. The charge entered the left 
 breast and went to the heart, killing him instantly. 
 
 FORTUNE & PELLETIER, 
 
 ARE KECEIVING DAILY THEIR STOCK OF 
 
 F.A.Z.I1 PRESS GOODS, 
 
 IiilBIZIS' CIiOTHS, 
 
 EMBROIDERIES, 
 
 &c,, &c., &c. 
 Their arrangements will enable them to offer the newest 
 importations throughout the seasou at prices that will gen- 
 erally be found 
 
 LOWER 
 
 than any bouse in the trade. Their customers are protected 
 by their system of 
 
 03SrE FE,ICE1 
 
 marked in plain figures upon all their Goods. 
 
 sve <se 3S1 ■^wA-smasroTOKr stkbet 
 
 6cpt4 3w 
 
 T. P. FOYXES & CO., 
 
 COMMERCIAL, CARD, PLAIN AKD 
 
 ORNAMENTAL JOB PRINTERS, 
 
 No. 40 Devonshire Street, 
 
 Comer of Water street, (formerly Gazette Office.) 
 Jj3 tf 
 
 J. & R. MURPHY, 
 
 MANUFACTtTRERB OP 
 
 SURGICAL AND DENTAL INSTRUMENTS, 
 CUTLERY, 
 
 AND STEEL WORK OF EVERY KIND, 
 No. 3 HARVARD PLACE, (opposite the Old South,) 
 
 BOSTON, Mass. 
 Kp-Cutlery and Instruments of all kinds Repaired, 
 ly aug28 
 
 A WILLIAMS & CO., Wholesale Agents, for the Irish 
 , Miscellany. The Tiacle supplied with Hooks, Pe- 
 riodicals aud Newspapers. Speciaf Agents for Harper k 
 Bi others Publications. No. 100 Washington street. 
 tch20 ' Boston. 
 
 LAWRENCE BRICADE BAND. J. De.smond, Lead- 
 er. Are prepared to I'uraisli Alusic for 3Iililary and 
 CivicPaiiides. Pic-Nics, Festivals, &c. Also, a Quadrille 
 Baud lui-nished, if desired. Address J. Desmond, care of 
 Kev. J. O'Donuell, Lawrence, Mass. 
 
 OUR AGENTS. 
 
 Bcston — John J. Dyer, & Co.,a5 School street; A. Wil- 
 liams & Co., 100 Washington street: Fedheren & Co., 9 and 
 13 Court street; Wm. Uickey, 128 Federal street; Howe & 
 Co., 11 Court Aveuue; and William Keating, 17t) Harrison 
 Avenue, 
 
 Bangor, Me. — Edward J. Kelleher. 
 
 New York.— Dexter & Brother, 14 & 16 Ann street. 
 
 Troy, N. Y. — Francis Koark. 
 
 Philadelphia.— A. Winch, 320 Chestnut street. 
 
 Ohio.— M. li. Bird, Cincinnati, and Ilawks & Brothers, 
 Cleaveland. 
 
 Detroit, Mich— J. A. Hoys. 
 
 St. Louis. Missouri. — Thomas Duggan. 
 
 New Orleans, La. — .lames M. Shine. 
 
 The Miscellantj may also be had. retail, of newspaper and 
 periodica] dealers throughout the country. 
 
 travelling agents. 
 John Warren. 50 Andover street, for Boston and vicinity. 
 James Dovie, of Millburv, Mass. Edward II. Keenau, of 
 North Ferrisburg, Vt. Michael F. Hackett, of Providence, 
 K.I. James Sufiivan. of New Haveu, Ct. Robert Crowe, 
 of Brooklyn, N. Y. James Cullen, of West Troy, N. Y. 
 Daniel A. Brosnan, of Philadelphia, Pa. 
 
 CATHOLIC BOOK STORE. 
 
 WILLIAM HICKEY', Catholic Bookseller, and Agent 
 for the Extensive Publishing House of D. & J. 
 Sadlter & Co., of New Y"ork. 
 The latest and most varied stock of Religious Prints, 
 
 MISSALS, PRAYER BOOKS. CROSSES, 
 
 and all the Current Literature, constantly on hand. 
 
 No. 128 Federal (corner of AVilijams) street, 
 BOSTON, MASS. 
 
 RATES OF ADVERTISING. 
 
 FOR EAOH SQUAKKOK TWELVE LINKS. 
 
 First insertion, . . . Sl.OO | Three months, . . $6.00 
 
 Each subsequent do . 60 | One vear, .... 16.00 
 
 Six lines or less constitute Iialf a nquare. 
 
 Larger advertisements charged in proportion. 
 
 Business Notices, solid . . . 10 cents per lint. 
 
 '* '* leaded ... 16 " " " 
 
 BUSINESS CARDS of six lines or less. 
 For On Month,. . . S1.50 1 Six Months, . . . S6.00 
 
 Three Months, . . . S3.00 1 One Year «8.00 
 
 •.•All advertisements payable in advance. 
 
 OLD COLONY HOUSE. 
 
 PATRICK HOLLY begs leave to announce to his pat- 
 rons and the public genemlly that he has eoustautly 
 on hand at his old aud well-known stand, 
 
 THE OLD COLONY HOUSE, 
 
 CORNER OF ENEELAND AND SOVTH STREETS, 
 
 A CHOICE ABSOKTMENf OF 
 
 BRANDIES, AVINES. SCOTCH & IRISH 
 
 WHISKEY, CIG^VRS, &c. &c., 
 
 all ot the very lirst quality, which can be obtained too at 
 
 LOWER RATES 
 
 than elsewhere ju the iiiurket; in proof of which he invites 
 purcha«er* to give him a call. ftUgSft 
 
 TUE 
 
 IRISH M I 8C E LLA N Y 
 
 Is published weekly, and devoted to the iuterests and Tin- 
 dication of the Irish people throughout the world. 
 
 The MiseeUany rcpubliKhec each week one whole number 
 of the old ' Dublin 1'enny Journal,' with original and 
 selected espayc. reviewn, poetry, &c., by Irishmen, of first- 
 rate ability. It also coiitaiiiN beuutiftil I'ictorial Illustra- 
 tions of Irish scenery and other objects of interest, among 
 which may be enumerated engravings ot the ancient cas- 
 tles and round towers, the nuns of the old churches, the 
 plundered monasteries, convents and abbeys of Ireland. 
 
 It will also contain correct FictorisI representations ot 
 works of art executed by Irishmen ot the present day, as 
 well as in former timesj in this country aud throughont 
 Europe. 
 
 Tbrhb.— S2,00 per year, invariably in advance. 
 
 WALSH & CO. PROriUETOKS, 
 
 No. 4 Water Street, Boston, SIass. 
 
VOLUME 2— NUMBER 32.] 
 
 BOSTON, SATURDAY, SEPTEMBER 18 1858. 
 
 [PRICE FOUR CENTS 
 
 TOURING IN IRELAND. 
 
 In our last ve gave 'Cork and its Associations ;' 
 we now give illustrations of scenery from other 
 
 parts of the south. The first of the engravings is a I what promises to be the scene of vast mining indus- 
 fketch of Crookhaven, a most picturesquely situated I trial enterprise in this part of Ireland, as it would have 
 little town, the focus, or at least the future focus, of | been long hetore this but for the untoward circum- 
 
 stances, now happily fast passing away, which 
 hitherto retarded the prcsperity of the interesting 
 tion of the empire we are at present speaking of. 
 
 barracks, an inn, and several white- 
 washed houses. Here we again obtain 
 a view of the river Lee, which runs 
 close by the village. After quitting 
 Inchigeela, a short and pretty drive 
 brings us in sight of the lakes, about " 
 three miles in length. Here the Lee ^ 
 expands itself into a broad sheet of ?i 
 water, and three continuous lakes pre- = 
 sent in their entire coarse a diversified 
 series of the most animated scenery, - 
 dotted with little islands. The road I 
 along the side of the lakes is very . 
 beautiful, and winds round the north- 
 ern margin of the shore, from which 
 point the best view is Gougane. 
 
 Quitting the northern shore of the 
 lake, we follow the course of the Lee, 
 and enter a lonely vallcv, encompassed 
 with mountains, and, after a few milc»' 
 ride, arrive at the village of Ballin- 
 gcary, or 'the Place of the Wilder- 
 nes," thirty miles distant from Bandon, 
 and within four miles of the Kource ot 
 the river Lee. A spaci.ms chapel, a 
 national school house, a roadside inn. 
 
 CKOOKHAVEN HARBOR. 
 
 have I Reverting again to the main road, on the way to I of the annexed smaller illustrations. Inchigeela 
 
 por- Killarney, and between Crookstown and Gougane I is about twenty-four miles distant from Bandon, 
 
 I Barra, we come to the spot indicated in the second ] possessing a church, parsonage, chapel, police 
 
 .and some few houses, 'constitute the 
 village, from the bridge of which is 
 a wild moory glen, through which 
 flows the B llingery stream, winding 
 down the valley, and emptying itself 
 noiselessly into the Lee. A rude and 
 ancient church stands upon an emi- 
 nence, about a mile up the glen, and 
 several antiqu ited buildings are observ- 
 able in the vicinity. A few miles further 
 on, we approach Gougaiie, through a 
 narrow road, situated at the base of a 
 steep mountain, presenting the appear- 
 ance of a cragcy wilderness, and arrive 
 at the head of Keimancigh Pass.wilhin 
 a short mile of the Holy Lake of Gou- 
 gane Birra, situated at the bottom of 
 a circular chain of mountains, wild in 
 the aspect of its surrounding scenery; 
 but the touri-t can form no conception 
 of the scene of lovely loneliness till he 
 contemplates it within its perfect am- 
 pi itheairo of rugeed hills. A short 
 curve in 'he pathway at once displays 
 the whole scene to view, and a more 
 complete picture of wild desolation or 
 
 IXCIIIGEELA (APTLF, ON THE ROAD TO BANTRY BY SOr(JANK UARKA 
 
82 
 
 IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 mnjcBtic mounlnin grandeur it U impossible to con- 
 ceive. Tlic »niiill islund, wlicncc its farrcdncsii, is 
 ncarl}' niidwaj in the luke ; end on the island are a 
 group of prnctful ash trees, and the ruins of a chapel, 
 the heimitage of Saint Finnibar of the Silver Locks, 
 before he journeyed to found his great church at Cork. 
 The well here was supposed to lie coosecralcd, and 
 there was a great biannual pilgrimage of pea.'.antK, 
 who had faith in iho power of water to cure all dis- 
 eases, both of man and beast. The lake of Gougano 
 covers Kve hundred acres. Its waters aie generally 
 placid, at.d in iheir .'.till depths the giant hills around 
 are reflected. Proceeding along a causeway, we are 
 brought to the litilc verdant inlet where numirous 
 small fountains gush out in tiny streams, ihv sciurco 
 of the ' Silver Lake.' 
 
 Shonid the tourist have an opportuniir, vie would 
 advise him to ascend the top i.f ihc mountain whi(h 
 overlooks ihe Li ke ol Gouganc, and which is accessi- 
 ble, although with much toil and difBculiy, in the sum- 
 mer season. The sun mit is a mass of Hack rock, in 
 the form of a dniid's alicr, from which a magnificent 
 view of Banlry Bay is ohtainid ; the Killainey, Glen- 
 garitVand Uercbavtn mountuins arc also seen to great 
 advantage, while underneath, the Pass of Ki-imancigh, 
 and the surrounding scenery of Gnngane, torin a glo- 
 rions landscape. Keturning from this lonely scene, 
 we re-enter the main road, and a hearty luncheon hav- 
 ing been disposed ofnt the refreshment room provided 
 there, and a change of horses eflcctcd, we stun again, 
 and soon arrive at the cilebraled Pass of Keimaneigh, 
 thirty-four miles from Bandon. Mr. John Windele, 
 in his ' South of Irelaid,' speaking of Keimaneigh 
 Pass, observes: — 'Nothing in mountain scenery of 
 glen, or dell, or delile, can well equal this gloomy 
 pass. The separation of the mountain ground at 
 either side is only just sufficient to afford room for a 
 road of moderate breadth, wiih a rugged channel at 
 one side for the water, which, in the winter season, 
 rushes down from the high grounds, and, meeting 
 here hastens onward to pay the first tribute offered to 
 the Lee. A romantic or creative imagination would 
 her« find a grand and extensive field for the exercise 
 of its powers ; every turn of the road brings us to 
 some new appearance of the abrupt and shattered 
 walls, which at either side rise up darkling to a great 
 height, and the mind is continnally occupied with the 
 quick succession and change of objects so interesting, 
 resolving and comparing realities, sometimes giving 
 form and substance to airy nothings.' 
 
 On arriving at the end of the puss, a beautiful view 
 of Bantry Bay opens before us, and presently we ap- 
 proach the Atlantic Ocean. Weeding our way round 
 the head of this splendid harbor, by an excellent and 
 picturesque road, we enter the cnehanling valley of 
 Glengariff, fifiy-ihrec miles from Bandon. 
 
 It is of this ravishing spot that the cynic, Mr Michael 
 Angclo Titmarsh, throwing aside for once his captious 
 ness, exclaims : — ' Were such a bay lying upon Eng- 
 lish shores, it would be a world's wonder ; perhaps if 
 it were on the Mediterranean or the Baltic, English 
 travellers would flock to it in hundreds. Why not 
 come and see it in Ireland ■? It is less than a day's 
 journey from London, and lies in a country far more 
 strange to most travellers than France or Germany 
 can be. The best view of this exquisite scene — the 
 charm of a soft climate enhancing every other — is ob- 
 tained from the height of the hilly road loading to Kil- 
 lamey, and at the foot of which is a pretty cottage, 
 preferred as a residence for many years by Lord Bantry 
 to the stately mansion at Bantry. The summit of this 
 hill, which is, in fact, within a private demesne, may 
 be attained if the tourist will make up his mind for a 
 fatiguing walk ; but the result will amply reward him.' 
 
 Not long since there existed at GlcngarifT only a 
 single hotel, and even that was an icdilfercnt one. Bnt 
 now that Qneen Victoria has made an Irish tour the 
 fashion, visitors will find in the very centre of the fairy 
 solitude of this ' rugged glen ' (for such is the literal 
 tra nslation of ' Glengaritf ') not an ill-furnished and 
 uninviting wayside posada, but a splendid caravansary 
 
 on the n.ost comprehensive and elaborate metropolitan 
 scale, chaigcs ixctptcd ; for in this respect, Mr. Eochc, 
 the landlord, is fortunately rot ambiiiousof rivalling 
 the Babylonian Bonifaces; and the same may with 
 truth be said of his diligent and wellcateiing neighbor, 
 the proprietor of liccles' most admirable hotel. By 
 boat Glengaiift is seen to the fullest advantage. Hav- 
 ing taken a general vii w of the delighiful amphiiheatre 
 surrounding Roche's Hotel, we |iroceed to Cromwell's 
 Bridge, passing Gainish and Brandy Islands, and en- 
 ter the limpid waters of the Glengariff Kiver. 
 
 ONE GOOD TURN DESERVES ANOTHER. 
 
 When the Duke of Uruiond was on his passage 
 to Ireland to undertake the government of it as 
 Lord Lieutenant, in the reign of Queen Anne, he 
 was forced by contrary winds upon the then almost 
 barren island of Ha. There was no house in this 
 place where his grace could find tolerable accom- 
 modation but a poor clergyman's house, in which 
 were three small rooms, and the'se very poorly fur- 
 nished; however, these inconveniences were com- 
 pensated by the happy disposition of the landlord, 
 and the frugal but decent hospitality, with which 
 his excellency was particularly pleased. The wind, 
 some days after, shifting about, the duke and his 
 retinue prepared for again setting out on their pas- 
 sage, but before he went on hoard, he asked his 
 landlord what his living was. 
 
 'Twenty-tn'o pounds a yea'',' replied Joseph, for 
 that was his name. 
 
 At which the duke, being surprised, asked again 
 how he came to have his establishment so decent 
 and neat on such a small salary. 
 
 'Why,' replied Joseph, 'my wife, Rebecca, is an 
 excellent housewife, and as we have two cows, she 
 sells the milk and cheese, and almost supports the 
 family, whilst we reserve my twenty-two pounds 
 for clothes and our children's education, which, at 
 all events, I am determined to give them, and then 
 the world is before them, let them shift for them- 
 selves.' 
 
 Ormond was charmed at the sight of so much 
 contentment, which this poor but generous clergy- 
 man enjoyed; and having made Rebecca a hand- 
 some present, he promised to advance Joseph in the 
 church, and immediately went on board. 
 
 Joseph having waited with anxiety for some time 
 to hear from the viceroy, at last resolved on going 
 to Dtiblin, and pushing his fortune, for which he 
 seemed to have had only this single chance in his 
 whole life. He set off, and soon arrived in Dublin. 
 He imagined the best way of succeeding would be, 
 if possible, by preaching before the Duke of Or- 
 mond, and using every stroke of address to make 
 him recollect who he was, and what he had prom- 
 ised. Joseph therefore applied to the dean to be 
 permitted to preach in the cathedral next Sunday. 
 The dean, who knew nothing about him, seemed 
 surprised at the request, and being of a humane 
 disposition, he did not peremptorily refuse it, but 
 judging it necessary to be acquainted with the abil- 
 ities of the person to whom he was to grant this 
 favor, he entered into a conversation with the stran- 
 ger on various subjects, and fineling him to be pos- 
 sessed of a considerable share of ability, he per- 
 mitted him to preach next Sabbath forenoon, before 
 the viceroy, and both houses of the Peers and Com- 
 mons. 
 
 Joseph mounted the pulpit, and chose that re- 
 markable text, 'But the chief butler remembered 
 not Jo.seph, but forgot him." lie enlarged on the 
 text in the manner he judged best calculated to pro- 
 mote his purpose, and then made the following ap- 
 plicatioi.: — 'Xow, my honored hearers, let us turn 
 our thoughts inward, and question ourselves, 'did 
 ever I get a kind ofllce done me by one of an infe- 
 rior station in life, one, who, like the poor widow- 
 in the gospel, freely gave a mite, though it was all 
 her living; and have I overlooked such generosity, 
 
 and basely forgot to reward it seven-fold ? Have I 
 ever been exposed to the inclemencies of the storm, 
 and ■tthcre conflicting elements seemed to conspire 
 for my ruin? and did ever any of a low but con- 
 tented station of life, with open aims receive me 
 and my weather-beaten attendants into his house, 
 although he had no hopes, or at least, no certainty 
 of retaliation on my part, and have I allowed such 
 benevolence to pass unrewarded, and ashamed to 
 acknowledge my benefactor, have suffered him to 
 langui^h under the iron grasp of poverty r' 
 
 Here the duke could not help examining his own 
 conduct, and, upon recollection, found that he was 
 guilty of some pieces of negligence equally criminal, 
 and perfectly similar to this, which had just now 
 been described in such affecting colors; but he was 
 still more excited, when, upon a thorough exami- 
 nation of the preacher, he found that he strickingly 
 resembled his own hospitable landlord in the island 
 of Ila; upon which he turned to one of his lords 
 and asked him 'if this was not their old landlord in 
 Ila?' He replied that he thought it was. The duke 
 desired the parson to be invited to dinner that day. 
 Joseph came accordingly, and the duke asked him 
 did he not come from Ila to remind him ot his 
 promise to provide for him ? Joseph aelcnowledged 
 that such was his intention, 'as he thought the ne- 
 glect of him only arose from the important concerns 
 of the government with which his excellency was 
 entrusted.' 
 
 To which the duke replied, 'you are a worthy 
 man,' and after dinner ordered some of his clerks to 
 loolc over the vacancies of the church. The clerks, 
 upon searching, told the duke there was only a liv- 
 ing of four hundred pounds per annum, and he im- 
 mediately preferred Joseph to it. The Duke of 
 Ormond was soon afterwards divested of all his 
 dignities, and escaping a trial by retiring to France, 
 he was fugitated, and his large fortune was for- 
 feited to the crown. The generosity of his friends 
 for some time supplied him; but these aids were 
 soon withdrawn, and the once great Duke of Or- 
 mond, Lord Lieutenant of Ireland, Lieutenant Gen- 
 eral of Her Majesty's armies, &c., &c., now found 
 hin^self surrounded with all the horrors of indi- 
 gence, contempt and death. 
 
 The generous Joseph, hearing of his benefactor's 
 misfortunes, consulted with his wife, whether they 
 could not live upon one hundred pounds a year out 
 of his living of four hundred a year, and remit three 
 hundred of it annually to the duke. She readily 
 consented, and immediately Joseph remitted to his 
 grace the first quarter of his annuity. Struck with 
 this second act of kindness, his grace wrote an ac- 
 count of it to a certain great personage at court, 
 who, although in different interests, yet still pre- 
 served the ties of friendship inviolable. Being de- 
 lighted with such real generosity in a poor man, 
 the courtier got Joseph preferred to a second living, 
 which raised his income to eight hundred pounds 
 yearly; but, prior to the second preferment, the 
 Duke of Ormond died in exile. 
 
 This story was related by an officer in the army, 
 who declared he was descended from the hero of it, 
 Joseph of Ila. 
 
 An Anecdote. — The celebrated Bentlcy, when 
 in France, went to visit the Countess of Ferrers, 
 then on a party of pleasure at Paris. He found 
 with her so large a party that he was quite embar- 
 rassed how to behave, what to say, or what coun- 
 tenance to show. Soon tired of this painful situa- 
 tion, which he much felt, he retired as awkwardly 
 as ho entered. So soon as he was gone, Laay Fer- 
 rers was asked who that man was that they all 
 thought so ridiculous, and on whom every one had 
 something to say and to remark. 'He so learned a 
 man,' replied Lady Ferrers, 'that he can tell you in 
 Greek and Hebrew what a chair is, but does not 
 know how to sit on one.' 
 
IRISH MISOELLMSY. 
 
 83 
 
 ON THE AURORA BOREALIS. 
 
 Till' uuroiM l)ai-o;iUs, norlhoni lig-lits,or streamers, 
 is n kind of meteor appearing in the northern part 
 of the heavens, mostly in the winter season and in 
 frosty weather. It is not known at what time this 
 meteor was first observed. The first recorded in 
 Britain was tlio remarkable one, on the 30th Janu- 
 ary, 1.560. From that period till about thirty or 
 forty years aso, they were generally seen in Ireland 
 almost every winter season ; and sometimes every 
 night during certain periods of the year. It is re- 
 markable, however, that of late years, t^icy hnvo 
 scarcely been seen in this country ; but I undestand 
 a very brilliant aurora borealis was observed in the 
 winter of 1833 in Scotland. 
 
 This phenomonon was certainly known to the 
 ancients, and is described by Aristotle in his Mete- 
 orology, lib. 1, c. 4 — 9, as well as by many others of 
 the ancient philosophers. They generally begin in 
 the north, extending towards the west, but some- 
 times inclining to the east, a few hours after sun- 
 set, or between that and midnight, by a cloud ap- 
 pearing in the horizon, sometimes a few degrees 
 above it, seldom so high as forty degrees, and 
 scarely above 50 degrees ; or the cloud is separated 
 from the horizon, so that the blue sky may be seen 
 between them. When the phenomenon increases 
 so as to spread to a considerable extent, its progress 
 shows itself by a general movement of the whole 
 mass; numerous breaches are formed in the arch, 
 and instantly disappear, while vibratory corrusca- 
 tions of lit;ht strike, as by shocks, every portion of 
 the matter constituting the phenomenon. 
 
 It is in the northern latitudes ot Sweden and 
 Lapland that the aurora boreales are so singularly 
 beautiful, and afford travellers, by their almost 
 constant effulgence, a very beautiful light during 
 the long winter nights. A more interesting specta- 
 cle can scarcely be conceived; but whoever sees it 
 for the first time, cannot behold it without terror, 
 for, fine as the illumination is, it is attended with a 
 hissing noise through the air, terrific in the extreme. 
 The natives describe what they then hear by the 
 expression, 'Spolachi codjat,' that is, the raging 
 heat is passing ; and in some parts of Lapland the 
 inhabitants believe that it is the spirits of the dead 
 engaged in battle. And so fearful is the sound, 
 that the dogs of the hunters on the borders of the 
 icy sea are so frightened, that they lie down, and 
 will not move till the noise has passed. 
 
 Various theories have been formed by philoso- 
 phers in order to account for the streamers; but 
 their origin, with their appearing and non appear- 
 ing, is even at this day a matter of doubt. They 
 were by the ancients considered to arise from vapors 
 and exhalations, which, rising from the earth, mix 
 together, and at length take fire ; others again im- 
 agine that the ice and snow of the polar circles re- 
 flect the solar rays towards the concave surface of 
 thfi upper regions of the atmosphere, whence they 
 were sent back to us, and produced all the appear- 
 ances that accompany the aurora borealis. 
 
 Among the modems, Mairan supposes that the 
 phenomenon takes place when the solar atmosphere 
 approaches so near the earth as to be more exposed 
 to the attraction of our planet than to the sun's at- 
 traction, and must, therefore, fall into our atmos- 
 phere, and by the more rapid circulation of parti- 
 cles of air in the equatorial regions, it is soon re- 
 pelled towards the poles ; and tliis he states as the 
 reason why the aurora borealis appears oftenest in 
 the north, and then proceeds to explain the other 
 circumstances of the phenomenon, and also the zo- 
 diacal light. Hut it has been calculated that the 
 streamers are sometimes elevated more than 780 
 miles above the surface of the earth, so in order to 
 maintain his theory' he was obliged to give the at- 
 mosphere a height incomparably greater than is 
 generally ascribed to it, or than it really has ; be- 
 sides it is plain, according to this hypothesis, that 
 
 the streamers should proceed from the equator to 
 the poles, instead of proceeding from the poles to 
 the equator, as they invariably do. 
 
 Euler next proposed a theory which supposes the 
 particles of our atmosphere to be driven by the im- 
 pulse of the solar rays to a great distance, and to 
 become luminous by these rays being reflected on 
 their surface. He extends this explanation to the 
 appearance of the tails of comets, and the zodiacal 
 light, but it is needless to follow him, as his whole 
 theory is founded on gratuitous assumptions. 
 
 The next, and probably the true theory, is that 
 of the celebrated Dr. Franklin. According to him, 
 the electric fluid conveyed from the equator to the 
 polar regions, by clouds that are charged with it, 
 fiiUs with the snow on the ice that covers those re- 
 gions, and being accumulated there, breaks through 
 the low atmosphere at the pole, and runs along the 
 vacuum over the air towards the equator, diverging 
 as the degrees of longitude enlarge, till it finds a 
 passage to the earth in more temperate climates, or 
 is mingled with the upper air, and gives all the ap- 
 pearance which the northern lights assume. 
 
 Now it can be shown, experimentally, that in ex- 
 ceedingly rarified air, the color of the electric spark 
 passing in through it is green; in denser air it has a 
 blue tint, and passed to a violet and purple as the 
 condensation of the air is increased. In making 
 experiments, it is found that in proportion as the 
 medium is more rare, its conducting power in- 
 creases, and a smaller intensity of electricity is re- 
 quired for the production of light. In the ordinary 
 vacuum of the air-pump, the passage of electricity 
 is rendered sensible by streams or columns of differ- 
 ent light, occasionally varying in their breadth and 
 intensity, and exhibiting movements which give 
 them a marked resemblance to the corruscations of 
 the aurora borealis, and almost confirming the the- 
 ory of Franklin. 
 
 The ingenious Mr. Dalton, in his Metereologisal 
 Observations and Essays, supposes the aurora bo- 
 realis to be a magnetic phenomenon, whose beams 
 are governed by the earth's magnetism; as it is 
 highly probable that magnetism is nothing but a 
 kind of electricity, they of course are the same, or 
 the one only a modification of the other, similar to 
 electricity and galvanism ; Mr. Dalton's theory dif- 
 fers in that ease but little from that of Dr. Frank- 
 lin. 
 
 The latest theory of the aurora borealis is that of 
 the ingenious Swedish philosopher, M. Libos, or, as 
 Dr. Gregory spells it, Libes. (See Haug's Nat. 
 Phil. Trans, by Gregory.) He proceeds by stating 
 that the production of hydrogen gas is next to noth- 
 ing at the poles, therefore as often as the electricity 
 is put into an equilibriated state in the atmosphere, 
 the spark, instead of passing through a mixture of 
 hydrogenous and oxygenous gas, at the poles as it 
 does in our climates, must pass through a mixture 
 of oxygenous and azotic (or nitrogenous) gas, and 
 therefore cause a production of nitrous gas, nitrous 
 acid and nitric acid, all which give birth to ruddy 
 vapors, whose red color will vary according to the 
 quantity and proportion of those different sub- 
 stances which are generated ; those vapors are car- 
 ried towards the meridian, where the air is most 
 dilated, so that they approach more and more to- 
 wards the spectator, and it is probable that their 
 motion may be assisted by a north wind. Lastly, 
 the slight detonations which are sometimes heard 
 depend upon the small quantity of hydrogenous 
 gas which is found in the upper regions of the at- 
 mosphere, and which combines with the oxygen to 
 form water. 
 
 These principles, at the same time that they ac- 
 count, in M. Libes's estimation for all the phenom- 
 ena accompanying the aurora borealis, explain also 
 why it is so common towards the poles, and so rare 
 in temperate regions ; while thunder, which is fre- 
 quent in the torrid zone, is scarcely ever heard in 
 
 the polar regions. The disengagement of hydrogen 
 gas is very considerable at the equator, and in all 
 the torrid zone, but very little towards the poles, 
 and when we excite the electric spark in a mixture 
 of hydrogen, o.xygen, and azote, it combines in 
 preference the bases of the two former gases, that is 
 hydrogen and oxygen. The electric spark ought, 
 therefore, to occasion thunder solely in hot coun- 
 tries, and to produce aurora borealis alone in cold 
 ones. This is, in part, found to be the case ; the tor- 
 rid zone is the ordinarv theatre for thunder storms; 
 at 40 or 50 degrees they rarely occur out of the 
 summer season, and near the poles they scarcely 
 occur at all. 
 
 The rain of a thunder storm is accompanied by 
 lightning, and generally proceeded by a period of 
 heat, which greatly facilitates the decomposition of 
 water; there must, therefore, be a great quantity of 
 disengaged hydrogen, which is raised into the supe- 
 rior parts of the atmosphere, and this hydrogen, 
 when passing into the gaseous state, carries with it 
 a great quantity of electricity. Now it cannot be 
 doubted that lightning is produced b}' the electric 
 fluid; but as to the rain that is formed the moment 
 the lightning traverses the air, it can only arise from 
 one of the two following causes: either from sud- 
 den precipitation of the water which was dispersed 
 in the atmosphere, or from the combination of the 
 oxygen and hydrogen gas, occasioned by the electric 
 spark. 
 
 Libes remarks that the rain of a storm takes 
 place very frequently without there having been 
 any cloud to disturo the transparency of the atmos- 
 phere; yet it cannot be supposed that the water, 
 which is in very small quantities, and perfectly dis- 
 solved in the air, can be so precipitated at once as 
 to form an abundant rain. Hence, he recurs, on the 
 contrary, to the electric spark, which, in its pas- 
 sage, effected with inconceivable rapidity, meets 
 with mixtures of oxygen and hydrogen gas, the 
 combination of whose bases becomes effected, and' 
 gives birth to those violent explosions called thun- 
 der, as well as to a quantity of rain, proportional 
 to the quantity of iciform fluids; or, in other words, 
 proportional to the oxygen and hydrogen gas, whose 
 bases have been combined by the electric fluid pass- 
 ing throngh them. This hopothesis explains clear- 
 ly how there may be lightning without thunder, 
 though there may be many clouds in the air at that 
 time ; and why there should be many thunder 
 storms in hot countries, and few in cold ones. 
 For if there be not the proper proportion of oxygen 
 and hydrogen gas in that part of the atmosphere 
 through which the electricity darts, no explosions 
 can take place. 
 
 This theory is most ingenious, but it is not with- 
 out its difficulties. Could it be satisfactorily proved 
 that thunder was really the noise occasioned by the 
 explosion of the two gases, as the report of a can- 
 non is caused by the ignition of the powder, it 
 would stand a fair chance of being the prevailing 
 theory; but many objections can be urged against 
 it. It kas however, been almost univessally adopt- 
 ed by the northern philosophers on the continent. 
 
 Ballymena Co., Antrim. J. Getty. 
 
 r. S. Similar lights have frequently been ob- 
 served towards the South Pole, called Aurora Aus- 
 trales. Sec Philosophical Transactions, No. 461, 
 Sec. 23—25; and Vol. 54, No. 53. 
 
 The following remarkable occurrence took place 
 shore, some years since, at Ballyvaston, on the sea 
 county of Down— A strong wind setting in on 
 the land raised) the sandy soil about ten feet from 
 the bottom, and thereby overwhelmed and nearly- 
 destroyed a rabbit-warren ; by which storm the ves- 
 tiges of several cottages were discovered, and the 
 hearth-stones and wooden chimney frames sur- 
 rounding them appeared. From these traces it is 
 manifest that this place was formerly inhabited. 
 
84 
 
 IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 ROMANCE OF IRISH HISTORY. 
 
 LABBAlU.LOIMiSKAtll, OK THE DVMB rillNCE, 
 
 In ilie year of the worlil 36C5, the monnrch Cobihach 
 reigned in Ireland. He wided ihrongh sys of blood 
 to the throne, murdering with his own band his only 
 brother, Lopnry, the lawful king. He then seized on 
 the regal uulhcrily, and cnustd Olioll Ayncy, the son 
 of Logury, and nil his family, to be ba>ely murdered, 
 with the exception of Muyne or Mnon, the son of Olioll, 
 a child of about ten years, who was so shocked and 
 horrified nt the deeds of blood which he had witnessed, 
 that he lost both his sen.^es and his speech, and thus 
 escaped the tyrant's hale, as a person not likely to dis- 
 turb \\U reign of usurpation. 
 
 The unfortnnatc Wayne was removed by some friends 
 of his father' ij cause to the court of Scoria, Prince of 
 Corca Duivny, now known as the biirony of Barry- 
 more, county of Coik, where he was proucteil until 
 he perfectly rccoverid the use of his senses, though he 
 still remained dumb. 
 
 Such was the situation of afl'iiirs in Ireland, when 
 one sweet evening in summer, a beautiful young lady 
 walked from the palace of Scoria. She was tall and 
 exquisitely shaped, wiih lier curling and fair hair fall- 
 ing gracefully down her shoulders, and round her high 
 and polished brow. It was Moria, the daughter of 
 the Prince of Corca Duivny ; she was accompanied by 
 a young man who had just reached the dawning of 
 manhood. 
 
 The darkening shades of twilight were slowly falling 
 over the landscape, the mountain-tops looked dim and 
 distant, and the breeze was softly sit;hing itself to rest. 
 The lady and her companion wandered (br some time 
 without an object, and at length sat down on a moss- 
 covered shelving bank of rock which hung over a 
 mountain rivulet, and the youth placed himself at her 
 feet. He was gazing upwards with an intent and anx- 
 ions gaze. The twilight was now past, and the sum- 
 mer's moon was rising lonely in the heavens. 
 
 'Alas ! poor boy,' murmured the princess, ' well 
 mayest thou look towards yonder heaven ; 'tis the only 
 resting-place thou art likely to find. As the base 
 bound takes the young wolf dog by the throat, so the 
 usurping tyrant stretches forth his hand against thy 
 life.' 
 
 The last sentence, though partially uttered and bro- 
 ken by a sigh, was caught by the quick ear of the boy. 
 He turned his pallid features to her with an agonized 
 expression of gratitude. His countenance thanked her 
 for the interest she had taken in his forlorn fortunes ; 
 he would have spoken, hut he could not — he was dumb. 
 The tears stood in his eye. She laid her hand upon 
 his shoulder with an action of affection and sympathy. 
 
 ' Look not so troubled, playfellow, of my childish 
 days,' said she, ' my father has the will and the power 
 to shield you, and Moria loves you tenderly and faith- 
 fully !' 
 
 The youth arose, and as he turned towards her, the 
 moonbeams fell full upon his face. It was agitated 
 and convulsed by many feelings — he gasped as if for 
 utterance — his eyes rolled in his head, and an agony 
 seemed to shake him, and pronouncing the name, 
 ' Moria,' he fell senseless to the earth. She was wild 
 with surprise and terror at hearing the dumb youth 
 speak ; and she was on the point of running for assist- 
 ance, when her father, with a party of soldiers, came 
 to the spot. He gazed on the prostrate young man, 
 and his brow grew dark with sorrow. ' What !' said 
 he, ' have they already dabbled in his blood t have the 
 weapons of the murderers drank the pure gore of their 
 lawful kingV 
 
 He stooped down, and finding no traces of blood, 
 and that life was not extinct, he ordered the soldiers 
 to bear him to the palace. 
 
 ' He still lives,' he continued, ' and may yet baffle 
 the usurper's vengeance ; but,' seeing his dangbter, 
 said, ' Moria, what do yoa do here, or what is the rea- 
 son of all this V 
 
 The young woman endeavored to explain, and the 
 old man eyed her sternly, as she related how she 
 beard the young prince pronounce her name. 
 
 In a few days after, and when Mayne bad recover- 
 ed the perfect use of his speech, a barque was privately 
 prepared, and he was conveyed to the shoie, where a 
 favoring breeze filling bis sails, he embarked for France, 
 where he was kindly lectivtd by his relative, the king 
 of that com. try. Here his courfgc and superior abili- 
 ties soon raised him to distinction, and, finally, to the 
 (iiiimaiid of the armies of the kingdom. 1 he love of 
 Moriu, and the ftelings of the patriot were lulled in 
 his hofoni by the tlow of honors and fortunes that cov- 
 ered him ; and the dangers and bustle of the busy life 
 which ho was obliged to lend, gave little time for re- 
 Ik cting on his usurped crown in the green isle of his 
 heart ; and new friends, honor, fume, ambition, and a 
 new home, chased from his breast nil the warmth of 
 ihcfielings which inspired it on leaving bis native 
 country. Years flew over him, nnd found him still the 
 favdiie warrior of the French king nnd the French 
 pe»ple. 
 
 He was sittlnf; one evening in an alcove that opened 
 into a beautiful gnrdrn. in a listless, jci an unpleasant 
 kind iif mood, the sounds of a harp fiom a brake of 
 rose trees in the garden fell on his ear. It proceeded 
 from a wandering minstrel from a strange country, 
 who, having delighted the eai-s of the menials, they 
 placed him there to try if his matchless fkill in the in- 
 strument could dispel lor a while the melancholy that 
 had dwelt with their master for some time. The first 
 sounds of the music that reached the ear of Mayne 
 made him start, for they were those of his far-off home, 
 and notes well-known and cherished in his by-gone 
 days. 
 
 it was one of those sweet thrilling effusions that to 
 this day characterize the music of his conntry. The 
 air ceased, and another as well known and beautiful 
 succeeded — both were favorites with him in the days 
 of bis youth, and, like the spirits of dcpai-ted friends, 
 their melodies arose within him, upbraiding him with 
 having forgot the land of his birth, and the lips that 
 used to breathe them in tones of surpassing sweetness 
 and tenderness. But what was his surprise when, in his 
 own still well-remembered and soft flowing native 
 tongue, the minstrel accompanied the music by words 
 similar in meaning to the following : — 
 
 SONG. 
 
 There is a home to which I stray 
 
 In thoughts by day, and dreams by night; 
 Its fields to me are ever gay. 
 
 Its skies to me are ever bright; 
 
 Loved land! 1 turn, with what delight, 
 Aud bless the hour that once again 
 
 Will give thy rude cliffs to my sight. 
 High rising o'er the foamy main. 
 
 I would not be a glittering thing, 
 
 To live in countries far away. 
 For all the wealth tlie world could bring, 
 
 To lure or captivate my stay! 
 
 Earth could not show a bower so gay, 
 But it would make nie love it more; 
 
 ]Nor power a glory could display, 
 To tempt me from its em'rnld shore. 
 
 There live the friendc I've loved and tried. 
 
 That is the land my fathers won ; 
 
 And shall I throw their name aside 
 
 And never say I am their son ? 
 
 .Shall I a base life still drag on, 
 
 A hireling on a foreign straud. 
 
 And live and die alike unknown, 
 A stranger in the stranger's land? 
 The words had scarcely died away on the breeze of 
 evening, when M.ayne, springing from his couch, 
 rushed into the garden to where the minstrel was ex- 
 ercising his art. A few brief words passed between 
 them, when, rushing into each other's embrace, they 
 shed tears at the meeting, and long and loving was 
 the first kiss of greeting. Gentle reader, the minstrel- 
 wanderer was Moria I 
 
 » * * .■ « * 
 
 It was winter, and Cobtb uh's palace of Dcntrrea, 
 near Rosscarberry, was the sc ne of feasting and mirth. 
 The day had been spent cla>i.ig the deer over the hills 
 of Erin, and the night was now passing in joyous fes- 
 tivity. The monarch was reclined on a magnificent 
 couch in the midst of his princes and nobles, when 
 an old man, enveloped in a grey mantle from head to 
 
 foot, entered the ball of banquet, and placed himself at 
 the fire. He whs dressed in a druid's habit, appeared 
 very aged and feeble, and, without speaking, he glano 
 ed a keen dark eye on each and all, and took his seat 
 The king and nobles eyed him with wonder and aston- 
 ishment, but did not speak ; there was a mystery about 
 his oppearunce which the (king did not feel inclined in 
 his heart to elBcidatc. But among the young warriors 
 there were sneers and suppressed titters, until one, 
 bolder than the rest, addressed the old roan. 
 
 ' My father is old,' said he ; 'why should he wander? 
 He should have rested in his oak crowned cell this 
 frightful night.' 
 
 'Nay, my son,' replied thefdruid, fear not for me ; 
 the storm effects not the rock, though it be old in the 
 ocean ; the winds and the waves dash harmlessly 
 round it.' 
 
 ' But,' replied the young man, ' the rock is always 
 young in its strength, and age has fallen heavily on 
 my fniher.' 
 
 ' My head is hcary,' leplicdMhe druid, ' but — ' 
 
 'Aye,' interrupted another, ' it is certainly vjry ven- 
 erable, but time has dealt unfairly by this curling 
 tress,' and he held up to the view of the rest a long 
 black tress of hair. The laugh became general;against 
 the druid, in which the king was fain to join. The 
 druid spoke not, but his eyes flashed terrific lightnings 
 on all around. The king met his glance, and quailed 
 beneath the fury of its meaning ; an increasing haired 
 and dread was inspired'within him, and he ordered the 
 druid to leave his presence. It was then that the 
 druid stood erect, and casting otT his hoary disguise, 
 with his long giey mantle, he appealed a youth- 
 ful warrior, covered from helmet to heel in glittering 
 armor, and with a poweiful axe in his hand. 
 
 ' Seize him,' cried the king aleud ; 'seize the trai- 
 tor;' but no one stirred to do his bidding. 'Traitor, 
 will you not stir,' said he, fiercely striking one of the 
 nobles that stood near him. The stroke roused the 
 nobleman from his astonishment. 
 
 ' Death to my honor,' he cried aloud, 'a blow from 
 the blood-stained hand of Cobthach the usurper;' and 
 unshcnthing bis blade, he rushed furiously upon the 
 monnrch, but numbers threw themselves between him 
 and Cobthach. Strife of the most deadly nature was 
 about taking place in the hall of feasting, for some ot 
 the princes and nobles siding with their injured com- 
 peer, and others joining the king, were about (forgetting 
 the druid) to commingle in bloody broil, and the king, 
 in the contusion, endeavored to cfl'ect bis escape ; and, 
 gliding from the combatants, made for a private door ; 
 but the mail-clad stranger, with the uplifted axe, stood 
 ready to receive him. Cobthach turned to another en- 
 trance, but there the stranger stood before him again. 
 Cobthach eyed him maliciously, and drawing his 
 sword, rushed on the stranger with determined cour- 
 age ; but the young man stepping from before the 
 deadly thrust, with the uplifted axe dashed the usur- 
 per's skull to pieces. A cry arose from one who be- 
 held the king fall, and saw the streaming axe raised 
 high in the stranger's hand. The nobles gazed in as- 
 tonishment, and the stranger spoke. 
 
 ' The vengeance of my father's house is on my steel,' 
 he cried ; ' here in this hall, where Cobthach murder- 
 ed my grandfather Logary, the king, and my father, 
 Olioll Avne, the Good ; here have I, Mayne, reveng- 
 ed their fall.' 
 
 Some shouted 'long live the grandson of Logary !' 
 but the greater number shouted, ' Kevengo on the 
 murderer of Cobthach !' and again wild tumult and 
 the clash of arms arose within the hall. Mayne put a 
 small horn to his mouth, and blew a shrill blast, which 
 was answered from without ; and soon the guards of 
 the palace, surprised and unarmed, were seen flying 
 before a band of strange soldiers, clad in polished ar- 
 mor, and soon the hall was filled with the victorious 
 foreigners. 
 
 It is useless now to dwell longer on our history. The 
 crown was given to Mayne, who then obtained the title 
 of Labrach Loingseach, and who in a short time after 
 espoused the beautiful and faithful Moria, as it was to 
 her love and fidelity he owed the kingdom. 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 85 
 
 On Vfiv. — Wit, in ICingCiarlos the sucoud's reign, 
 soeiued to bo tlie fmtiioa of tlie times ; in the next, it 
 gave vv.iy to polities and religion; while King William 
 was on the throne, it revived, under the protection of 
 Lord Somerj and some other noblemen, and then those 
 genimoi reeeived th^it tincture of oleganee and polite- 
 ness which al'cerivirds made such a figure in the Tat- 
 tlers, Spsotators, etc., through the greatest part of the 
 reign of Q leon Anne ; but since it has broken oat 
 only by tits and starts. Few people of di-stiaction trou- 
 ble themselves about the name of wit, fewer under 
 stand it, and hardly any have honored it with tlieir ex- 
 ample. In the next class of people it seems best 
 known, mast admired, and nust frei|U!ncly p.'actiseJ ; 
 but their stations in life are not eminent enough to daz- 
 zle us into imitation. Wit is a start of imigination in 
 the speaker, th;vt strikes the imagination of the hearer 
 with an idea of beauty common to both, and the im- 
 mediate result of the comparison is the flash of joy 
 that attends it; it stands in the same regard to sense, 
 or wisdom, as lightning to the sun — suddenly kindled 
 and as suddenly gone ; it as ofcen arises from the de- 
 feet of the mind as from its strength and capacity. 
 This is evident in those who are wits only without be- 
 ing grave or wise. Just, solid and lasting wit is the 
 result of fine imagination, finished study, and a happy 
 temper of body. As no one pleases more than the 
 man of wit, none is more liable to offend ; therefore 
 he should have a fancy quick to conceive, knowledge, 
 good-humor and discretion to direct the whole. Wit 
 often leads a man to misfortunes, that his prudence 
 would have avoided ; as it is the means of raising a 
 reputation, so it sometimes destroys it. He who af- 
 fects to be always witty, renders himself cheap, and 
 perhaps ridiculous. The great use and advantage of 
 wit is to render the owner agreeable, by making him 
 instrumental to the hippiness of others. When such 
 a person appears among his friends, an air of pleasure 
 and satisfaction diffuses itself over every face. Wit, so 
 used, is an instrument of sweet music in the hands of 
 an artist, commanding, soothing, and modulating the 
 passion into harmony and peace. Neither is this the 
 only use of it — it is a sharp sword, as well as a musi- 
 cal instrument, and ought to be drawn against folly 
 and aft'ectation. There is at the same time an humble 
 ignorance, a modest weakness, that ought to be spared ; 
 they are unhappy already in the con sciousness of their 
 own defects, and 'tis fighting with the lame and sick to 
 be severe upon them. The wit that genteelly glances 
 at a foible, is smartly retorted, or generously forgiven ; 
 because the merit of the reprover is as well known as 
 the merit of the reproved. In such delicate conversa- 
 tions, mirth, tempered with good manners, is the only 
 point in view, and we grow gay and polite together ; 
 perhaps there is no moment of oar lives so pleasantly 
 occupied, certainly none so agreeable. Wit is a qual- 
 ity which some possess and all covet ; youth affects it, 
 folly dreads it, age despises it, and dullness abhors it. 
 Some authors would persuade us that wit is owing to 
 a double cause ; one, the desire of pleasing others, and 
 one of recommending ourselves; the first is made a 
 merit in the owners, and is therefore ranged among the 
 virtues ; the last is styled vanity, and therefore a vice, 
 though this is an erroneous distinction, as wit was never 
 possessed by any without both, for no man endeav- 
 ors to excel without being conscious of it, and that 
 consciousness will produce vanity, let us disguise it 
 how we please. Upon the whole, vanity is insep:irable 
 from the heart of man ; where there is excellency it 
 may be endured ; where there is none it may be cen- 
 snrcd, but never removed. 
 
 Irish Legislation. — In May, 1784, a bill, intend- 
 ed to limit the privilege of franking, was sent from 
 Ireland for the royal approbation. In it was a clause 
 enacting that any member who, from illness, or other 
 cause, should be unable to write, might authorize 
 some other person to frank for him, provided that, on 
 the back of the letter so franked, the member doth, at 
 the same time, give under his hand a full certificate of 
 his inability to write. 
 
 ANCIENT CROSS OF FINCLAS. 
 
 It is generally known that Finglas was the reputed 
 residence of St. Patrick, who conferred upon it many 
 endowments and privileges. He blessed a well, which 
 is said to have singular virtues in healing diseases, and 
 there are, to this day, to be seen, on the bushes about, 
 various bits of cloth, said to be the cast-off bandages 
 of those who were healed, which they hung up as vo- 
 tive tablets, to commemorate their cure. He also 
 prophesied that his favorite residence should be, here- 
 after, an eminent city, and, according to Joceline, 
 'should be lifted up into the throne of the kingdom,' 
 and so become the future capital of Ireland. 
 
 To commemorte these and sundry other important 
 benefits, a cross was erected, at a very early period, in 
 this village to his memory, and held in such estima- 
 tion that two baronies of the county. Upper and 
 Nether Cross, were denominated after this famous 
 monument, in one of which it stood. It was set in a 
 romantic glen, called the Watery Lane, and resorted 
 to by all the country. 
 
 When Cromwell's army were proceeding to the 
 siege of Drogheda, they passed through Finglas, and, 
 observing the cross, they cast it down and broke it. 
 The people of the parish, anxious to preserve it from 
 further violation, secreted it by burying it in conse- 
 crated ground; so it disappeared, and the memory of 
 it alone remained among the traditions of Finglas. 
 In the year 1816, the Kev. Robert Walsh, then curate 
 of the parish, was much interested about this cross, 
 and made inquiries into the truth of the tradition. 
 There was in the parish an old talkative man, named 
 Jack White, who, amongst other stories, frequently 
 mentioned this, and to him Mr. Walsh applied. 
 White informed him that he had heard from his father, 
 who was a very old man, th.it his grandfather had 
 pointed out to him the spot where the cross was actu- 
 ally buried, and offered to show him the place, which 
 was within the precincts of the present churchyard. 
 Workmen were immediately procured, and, after some 
 labor, the cross was actually found, buried in the spot 
 which the traditions of the village had pointed out, 
 and disinterred, after it had remained concealed in the 
 earth, if the tradition be equally true, for one hundred 
 and sixty-eight years. 
 
 The cross is of granite, being, with the plinth or 
 pedestal, abont ten feet high. It is formed of arms, 
 issuing from a circle, like that at Clonma(^|^^( it 
 is not so highly ornamented with sculptnre.^^^^oso 
 inspection, it appears as if the sionc was decomposed 
 on the surface, leaving indistinct indications of figures. 
 
 among which fancy has traced serpents and dragons, 
 as if in allusion to those venemous reptiles which St. 
 Patrick had banished from the country. The cross at 
 Clonmacnois is supposed by Ledwich to have been 
 erected in 1280; judging from the diff'eicnt state of 
 preservation, and ruder structure, it is probable that 
 the Finglas cross is much more ancient. 
 
 When it was found, the shaft was broken in two, oc- 
 casioned, apparently, by violence, and also, perhaps, 
 because it was thin and weak, and not proportionate to 
 the great weight of the head of the cross. The parts 
 were re-united by iron cramps, and the whole was re- 
 erected near the place where it had been found. It 
 was a time of scarcity, and the parishioners entered 
 into subscriptions for the poor laborers of the parish, 
 and this was one of the works on which they were em- 
 ployed. 
 
 The Bogs of Ireland. — Whether these morasses 
 were at first formed by the destruction of whole for- 
 ests, or merely by the stagnation of water in places 
 where its current was choaked by the fall of a few trees, 
 and by accumulations of branches and leaves, carried 
 down from the surrounding hills, is a question never 
 yet decided. In a report of the Commissioners on the 
 Bogs of Ireland, published some years since, it is sta- 
 ted that three distinct growths of limber, covered by 
 three distinct masses of bog, are discovered on exami- 
 nation ; and it was given as the opinion of Professor 
 Davy, that in many places, where forests had grown 
 undisturbed, the trees on the outside of the woods grew 
 stronger than the rest, from their exposure to the air 
 and sun ; and that, when mankind attempted to ( stab- 
 lish themselves near these forests, they cut down the 
 large trees on their borders, which opened the internal 
 heart, where the trees were weak and slender, to the 
 influence of the wind, which, as is commonly to be 
 seen in such circumstances, had immediate power to 
 sweep down the whole of the internal part of the forest. 
 The large timber obstructed the passage of vegetable 
 recrement, and of earth falling towards the rivers ; the 
 weak timber, in the internal part of the forest, after it 
 had fallen, soon decayed, and became the food of fu- 
 ture vegetation. Mr. Kirwan, who wrote largely on 
 the subject, observes, that whatever trees are found in 
 those bogs, though the wood may be perfectly sound, 
 the bark of the timber has uniformly disappeared, and 
 the decomposition of this bark forms a considerable 
 part of the nutritive substances of morasses ; not with- 
 standing this circumstance, tan is not to be obtained 
 in analysing bogs ; their antiseptic quality is, however, 
 indisputable, for animal and vegetable substances are 
 frequently found at a great depth in bogs, without 
 their seeming to have suffered any decay ; these sub- 
 stances cannot have been deposited in them at a very 
 remote period, because their form and texture is such 
 as were common a few centuries ago. In 1786, there 
 were found, seventeen feet below the surface of a bog, 
 in Mr. Kirwan's district, a woollen coat of coarse, but 
 even net-work, exactly in the form of what is now call- 
 ed a spencer. A razor, with a wooden handle, some 
 iron heads of rows, and large wooden bowls, some 
 only half made, were also found, with the remains of 
 turning tools; these were obviously the wreck of a 
 work-shop, which was probably situate on the borders 
 of a forest. These circumstances countenance the sap- 
 position that the encroachments of men upon forests 
 destroyed the first barriers against the force of the 
 wind, and that afterwards, according to Sir H. Davy's 
 suggestions, the trees of weaker growth.whieh had not 
 room to expand, or air and sunshine to promote their 
 increase, soon gave »ay, and added to the increase. 
 
 EoYi-TiAN AztuE.- This beautiful pigment, which 
 has preserved its brilliancy of tint for more than sev- 
 enteen hundred years, may be easily and cheaply 
 made:— fifteen parts of the carbonate of soda, with 
 twenty of powdered opaque flints, and three of copper 
 filings, when strongly heated together for two hours, 
 will produce a substance, which, when powdered, wiU 
 be of a fine, deep sky blue, and closely resemble the 
 Egyptian azure in tint. 
 
86 
 
 IRISH. MISCELLANY. 
 
 THE BRIDGE OF TENACHELLE. 
 
 IIV SAMll'L fKIUIVSON, ESQ. 
 
 The dawn of an autumn duy was beginning to 
 expose the havoc of a stom>, chelast gusta of which 
 still shrieked through the stripped forests of Baun 
 Kegan, wlien two mounted fugitives appeared among 
 its tangled and haggard recesses, urging their horses 
 over the plashy brakes and cumbered glades at a 
 speed which plainly told that they were flying for 
 life or death. In the grey uncertain twilight, as 
 they flitted, wavering and swift, from shadow to 
 shadow, it was barely distinguiiihable that one was 
 a female , and, but for the deep panting of their 
 exhausted horses, and the snapping and rustling of 
 the leafy ruins underfoot, as they plunged down the 
 thickly strewn alleys of the forest, they might have 
 passed for the spirits of some stormy hunter and 
 huntrcs, chasing the night shadows for their game, 
 so ghostly, wan, and unsubstantial, seemed every- 
 thing around them. But the assiduous hand of the 
 horseman on the slackening reins of his companion, 
 the whisperings of encouragement and assurance at 
 every pause in their speed, and, above all, the fre- 
 quent look behind, would soon have betrayed their 
 mortal nature, their human passion, their love, and 
 fear, and danger. 
 
 They were the lady Anna Darccy and the Earl of 
 Kildare, who had fled together from Dunamare, 
 where ho had been lately under arrest, and were 
 now hastening to the Geraldine's county of Offalcy. 
 Their story is soon told : the noble prisoner had 
 won the daughter of his keeper to aid in his escape, 
 and to accompany his flight and fortunes. 
 
 By degrees, as the morning advanced, the evidence 
 of their sufferings, through the wet night they had 
 passed, became more and more apparent. The earl's 
 plume hung dripping and torn over his brows ; his 
 cloak fluttered in rent shreds or clung to his stain- 
 ed armor ; his face was torn with briars, and his 
 horse's flanks were as red from the high furze and 
 goring thickets as from the spur ; for they had at- 
 tempted their passage by a horse-trace of the deep 
 lorest, and had strayed in the tempestuous mid- 
 night from even that dangerous pathway. It was a 
 sad sight to look on such beauty as shone through 
 the wretched plight of his companion, clad in so 
 forlorn and comfortless a wreck of all that a tender 
 woman needs upon an inclement journey. But, al- 
 though the rain had beaten down her long hair till 
 it hung heavily against her cheek, it had not weigh- 
 ed the rich curl out of it ; nor had her eyes been 
 dazzled into any dimness by the lightnings ; her 
 cheek was blanched, it might be as much from the 
 washing of the recent showers and chill dews as 
 from apprehension ; but neither fear, nor the vio- 
 lence of piercing winds and rain, had subdued an 
 unconquerable grace and stateliness, that asserted 
 its innate nobility over her whole person, rela.xed 
 although it was, and sinking under almost insup- 
 portable fatigue. 
 
 •I would give the best castle in Offaley," cried 
 the earl, in deep distress and impatience, 'for one 
 sight of the bridge of Tenachelle, with my ten true 
 men upon the hill beyond. Uold up a little longer, 
 dearest lady ; had we crossed yonder ridge, we 
 should sec the Barrow beneath us, and that once 
 passed, all would be well. Alas, for thy poor 
 hands ! how they tremble on those reins. Would 
 to God that I could bear this in thy place." 
 
 ' Better this,' xhe replied, her faltering voice at- 
 testing how much she suflered, ' better even this 
 than what I fly from ; and I am not yet so weary — 
 although my hands are numbed upon this cold 
 damp bridle. I think more of my poor Sylvio's 
 hardships' — and she patted the drooping neck of 
 her palfrey, willing, perhaps, to hide a tear, that 
 she could not restrain, by bending aside — 'Alas, my 
 lord, the poor animal is falling momentarily. I 
 shall never be able to urge him up this hill.' ^\^lile 
 commiserating her palfrey's weariness, Lady Anna 
 
 had turned her eyes from the face of her compan- 
 ion, and it was well that she did not sec the sick 
 and despairing pang that crossed his features, as he 
 looked along the opening glade in the opposite di- 
 rection, for, right between them and the yellow 
 sunrise, there came down a party of horsemen, 
 their figures and numbers distinctly marked against 
 the sky, although still more than a mile distant ; 
 and, as the earl cast his eyes over the broad ex- 
 panse of tree-tops and green hills, he all at once 
 saw them on the ridge of the horizon. ' Lady An- 
 na,' said he, in alow voice strangely altered, 'Anna, 
 love, the road is here more level ; let us hasten 
 on.' 
 
 ' Hast seen any one, my lord ?' she inquired, 
 hastily, raising herself at his words, and looking 
 around in alarm, but the pursuers were already out 
 of sight, within the shadow of the hill. ' Is there 
 any new danger, Gerald?' she again asked, as he 
 put his hand to her reins, and shook out her pal- 
 frey into a canter in silence. 
 
 ' None, dearest ; no more danger than we have 
 been in all the night — but, lash your horse,' he 
 cried with involuntary earnestness ; lash hira now, 
 love, and do not spare !' and then again, endeav- 
 oring to conceal the cause of his agitation — ' If we 
 be not at the bridge by dawn, my men may have 
 been withdrawn out of sight of the O'iloore's coun- 
 try ; therefore, hurry on, for the sun is already up, 
 and we may not find them there.' 
 
 They strained up the hill at the top of the ex- 
 hausted palfrey's speed, and the lady for a while 
 seemed saisfied. ' Why dost thou look behind so 
 often, my lord ?' she said at length, turning her 
 head along with him. ' I see nothing but the tops 
 of trees and the red sky,' 
 
 ' Nor do I, Anna,' he replied: ' but do not turn 
 in the saddle; for, weary as thy palfrey is, he needs 
 all the care ; hold him up, dearest — on, on !' 
 
 ' We are pursued then,' she cried, turning deadly 
 pale, and the earl's countenance for a moment be- 
 spoke hesitation whether to stop and support her at 
 all hazards, or still to urge her on. 'AVe are pur- 
 sued,' she cried ; ' I know it, and we must be over- 
 taken. Oh, leave me, Gerald, leave me, and save 
 thyself!' The earl said not a word, but shook up 
 her palfrey's head once more, and drawing his dag- 
 ger, goaded him with its point till the blood 
 sprung. 
 
 ' Oh, my poor Sylvio !' was all the terrified girl 
 could say, as stung with pain and reeling from 
 weakness, the creature put forth its last and most 
 desperate efforts. 
 
 They had struggled on for another minute, and 
 were now topping the last eminence between them 
 and the river, when a shout rang out of the woods 
 behind. The lady shrieked — the earl struck the 
 steel deeper into her palfrey's shoulder, and stoop- 
 ing to his own saddle-bow, held him up with his 
 left hand, bending to the laborious task till his head 
 was sunk between thd horses' necks. 'Anna !' he 
 cried, ' I can see nothing for Sylvio's mane. Look 
 out between the trees, and tell me if thou seest my 
 ten men on the hill of Clemganne.' 
 
 ' I see," replied the lady, ' the whole valley flood- 
 ed from side f^ side, and the trees standing like 
 islands in the water. 
 
 ' But my men, Anna, my men ! look out beyond 
 the bridge ?' 
 
 ' The bridge is a black stripe upon the flood. I 
 cannot see the arches.' 
 
 ' But beyond the bridge,' he cried, in the inter- 
 vals of Ids exertion, now becoming every moment 
 more and more arduous ; for the spent palfrey was 
 only kept from falling by the sheer strength of his 
 arm — 'beyond the bridge, beside the pollard elm — 
 my ten men— are they not there ?' 
 
 'AJasJ no, my lord, I cannot see them. But 
 Mother of Mercies !' she shuddered, looking around, 
 ' I see them now behind us !' Another shout of 
 
 mingled voicen, execrating and exulting, sounded 
 from the valley as she spoke. 
 
 The earl struck his brow with his gauntlcd hand, 
 yielding for the first time to his excess of grief and 
 anguish, for he had raised his head, and had seen 
 all along the o]iposite hills the bare, unbroken soli- 
 tude that offered neither hope of help nor means of 
 escape. Yet he girded himself up for a last effort, 
 he drew his horse close to the palfrey's side, and, 
 'Dear Anna," he said, 'cast thine arms now round 
 my neck, and let me lift thee on before me ; black 
 Memnon will bear us both like the wind — nay, dally 
 not,' for the sensitive girl shrunk for a moment from 
 the proposal ; ' remember thy promise in the chap- 
 el on the rock,' and he passed his arm round her 
 waist, and, at one effort, lifted her from the saddle ; 
 while she, blushing deeply, yet yielding to the im- 
 perative necessity of the moment, clasped her hands 
 round his neek, and aided in drawing herself up 
 upon the black charger's shoulder. The palfrey, the 
 moment it lost the supporting hand of the earl, 
 staggered forward, and, though relieved of its bur- 
 den, fell headlong to the ground. The pursuers 
 were now so near that they could see plainly what 
 had been done, and their cries expressed the meas- 
 ure of their rage and disappointment ; for the strong 
 war-horse, although doubly burdened, yet thun- 
 dered down the hill at a pace that promised to keep 
 his start ; and hope once more revived in the faint- 
 ing hearts of the earl and the lady. 
 
 ' Now thanks to Heaven !' he cried, as he found 
 the powerful charger stretching out under them 
 with renewed vigor ; ' thank Heaven that struck 
 down the slow-paced loiterer in this good time ! 
 Now, Memnon, bear us but over yonder hill, and 
 cam a stall of carved oak, and a rack of silver. Ah, 
 the good steed ! ihou shall feed him from thine own 
 white hands yet, lady, in the courts of Castle Ley ! 
 Look back now, love Anna, and tell me what they 
 do behind.' 
 
 The lady raised her head from his shoulder, and 
 cast a glance along the road they had traversed. 
 ' I sec them plying whip and spur,' she said, ' but 
 they are not gaining on us — Kcd Kayniond rides 
 foremost, and Owen and the three rangers; I know 
 them all — but oh, Mary mother, shield me ! I see 
 my father and Sir Robert Verdun ; oh-, speed thee, 
 good horse, speed !' and she hid her face again upon 
 his breast, and they descended the hill which over- 
 hung the Barrow. 
 
 The old channel of the river was no longer visi- 
 ble ; the fl'od had overspread its banks, and far 
 across the flat holms on the opposite side swept 
 along in a brown, eddying and rapid deluge. The 
 bridge of Tenachelle spanned from the nearer bank 
 to a raised causeway beyond, the solid masonry of 
 which, resisting the overland inundations, sent the 
 flood with double impetuosity through the three 
 choked arches over its usual bed ; for there the 
 main current and the backwater rushing together, 
 heaved struggling round the abutments, till the 
 watery war swelled and surged over the range-wall 
 and fell upon the road-wall of the bridge itself with 
 solid shocks, like seas upon a ship's deck. Eager 
 for passage, as a man might be whose life and the life 
 of his dearer self were at stake, yet, for an instant, 
 the earl checked his hore, as the long line of penin- 
 sulated road lay before him— a high tumultuous 
 sea on one side ; a roaring gulf of whirlpools, foam, 
 and gushing cataracts on the other. The lady gave 
 one look at the scene, and sank her head to the 
 place when she had raised it. As he felt her clasp 
 him more closely and draw herself up for the effort, 
 his heart shamed him to think that he had blench- 
 ed from a danger which a devoted girl was willing 
 to dare ; he drove his spurs into his horse's flanks, 
 and Memron sprang forward on the bridge. The 
 roadway returned no hollow reverberation now, for 
 every arch was gorged to the keystone with a com- 
 pact mass of water, and, in truth, there was a gur- 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 87 
 
 gHng and hissing as the river was sucked in, and a 
 rushing roar where it spouted out in level waterfalls, 
 that would have drowned the trampling of a hun- 
 dred hoofs. Twice did the waves sweep past them, 
 rolling at each stroke the ruins of a breach in the 
 upper runge wall over the road, till the stones dash- 
 ed against the opposite masonry ; and twice were 
 both covered with the spray flung from the abut- 
 ments; but Memnon bore them on through stream 
 and ruin, and they gained the causeway safe. 
 
 The earl's heart liKhtcnod as ho found himself 
 again on solid ground, though still plunging girth 
 deep at times through the flooded hollows ; but 
 hey passed the embankment also in safety, and 
 ■were straining up the hill beyond, when the cries 
 of the pursuers, which had been heard over all the 
 storm of -waters ever since their entrance on the 
 bridge, suddenly ceased. There was the loud re- 
 port of an arquebuss, and Memnon leaped oif all his 
 feet, plunged forward, reeled and dropped dead. 
 Red Raymond's arquebuss was still smoking, as he 
 sprang foremost of his troop upon the bridge. Be- 
 hind him came Lord Darcy, furious with rage and 
 exultation. ' Secure him first,' he cried, ' secure 
 him, before he gets from under the fallen horse — 
 bind him hand and foot ! Ah, villain, he shall hang 
 from the highest oak in Clan Malir ! and, for her. 
 Sir Robert, she shall be thy wife — I swear it by the 
 bones of my father, before that risen sun hath set ! 
 Come on !' and he gave his horse head, but sudden- 
 ly his reins were seized on right and left by his at- 
 tendants. ' Villains, let go my reins !' he cried ; 
 ' would ye aid the traitor in his escape ?' and, strik- 
 ing the rowels deep into his steed, he made him 
 burst from their grasp ; but, almost at the same in- 
 stant, he pulled up with a violence that threw him 
 on his haunches, for a dozen voices shouted, 'back, 
 Raymond, back!' and a cry arose that the bridge 
 was breaking, and the long line of roadway did 
 suddenly seem to heave and undulate with the un- 
 dulating current. It was well for Lord' Dacy that 
 he did so ; for the next instant, and before his horse's 
 fore feet had ceased to paw the air, down went the 
 whole three arches with a crash, swallowed up and 
 obliterated in the irresistible waters. Among the 
 sheets of spray and flashing water thrown up by 
 the falling ruin and the whirlpools of foamy froth 
 from the disjointed masonrv, and the tumult of 
 driving timbers, and the general disruption of road 
 and river, the musqueteor and his horse were seen 
 sweeping for one moment down the middle of the 
 stream, then rolled over and beaten under water, 
 and tumbled in the universal vortex out of sight 
 forever. 
 
 Stunned, horrified, his horse trembling in every 
 limb, and backing from the perilous verge abrupt 
 at his feet, the baron sat gazing at the torrent that 
 now rushed past him. The frightful death he had 
 escaped — the danger he was even then in — the sud- 
 den apparition of the river's unbridled majesty, 
 savage and bare, and exulting in its lonely strength, 
 all the emotions of awe, terror, and amazement, 
 crowded on his soul together. His daughter and 
 her lover, it might be her husband and her para- 
 mour, lay within a gun-shot upon the hill, before 
 his eyes, for Anna hai thrown herself by the side of 
 the fallen and unextricated earl ; but he saw them 
 not, he thought not of them. He got ofi' his horse 
 like a man who awakens from sleep-walking, and 
 grasped the nearest of his servants by the arm, as 
 if seeking to make sure of the reality of their pres- 
 ence. 
 
 ' Ha !' he exclaimed, ' this is a perilous flood, 
 Geoffrey ; we must have the scarp of ihe ditch look- 
 ed to ; but how is this f . Ho, villains ! where is my 
 daughter ? fiends of hell, am I here !' and he 
 started at once to a full consciousness of his situa- 
 tion. He tore off his helmet and heavy breast- 
 plate, but his servants crowded round him and 
 withheld h'tn fiom the river, for he cried that he 
 
 would swim the torrent himself if none else would. 
 ' Dogs !' ho cried, ' take off your hands ! would you 
 aid the rebellious girl — the traitor's Icman — the le- 
 man of a Geraldine ! Raymond, reload your ar- 
 quebuss — red hound where in he ? Ha ! drowned ? 
 O slaves and cowards, to lot him be lost before your 
 eyes and stand idly by! Owen Garreboylo, thou 
 art my foster-brother ; Sir Robert Verdun, thou 
 hast been my son in bounties numberless ; will you 
 see me robbed of my child in my old age ; nor strike 
 a stroke for gratitude or fealty ? Is there no man 
 here will venture in for the love of my father's son ?' 
 
 At this last appeal, his foster-brother threw off 
 his cloak. ' Give me your hands, comrades,' he 
 said to his companions, ' for though the Barrow 
 were a river of fire, I would go through it for the 
 love of Mac Roger More.' 
 
 ' Not so,' cried the distracted old man ; not so, 
 my trusty kinsman ; enough lost already without 
 thee, my bold and loyal brother. But, Sir Rob- 
 ert Verdun, I had looked for other conduct from 
 thee to-day ; there is the lady that I would have 
 given to thee this morning — there, sitting by her 
 paramour upon the hill-side ; and I tell thee I would 
 rather let her marry him, Geraldine and rebel as he 
 is, than bestow her on a faint-hearted craven, as 
 thou hast this day shown thyself to be.' 
 
 ' You wrong me my lord,' replied the knight ; 
 ' you wrong me vilely. I would rather be the mer- 
 est Irishmen in Connaught, than son-in-law of such 
 a cruel tyrant and unnatural father. ' 
 
 ' Get thee to Connaught, then, ungrateful traitor ! 
 'Go!' cried the enraged baron; and the knight, 
 turning, indignantly from his side, was soon lost to 
 sight amongst the overhanging woods. 
 
 But, as he disappeared, there rose into view on 
 the opposite hill a party of troopers, making at a 
 rapid pace for the river. 'They are the traitor's 
 men,' cried Darcy, ' they will rescue him before my 
 eyes — and my child — oh, would that she were rath- 
 er dead ? Shoot, villains ! let fly a flight of ar- 
 rows, and slay them where they lie !' But he knew 
 as he uttered the unnatural command, that they 
 were far beyond arrow-range, and that, even were 
 they not so, no man of his company would bend a 
 bow in obedience to it. A few shafts were dis- 
 charged against the party descending the hill, but 
 they fell short, and disappeared in the water or 
 among the rushes and underwood of the flooded 
 holm. 
 
 ' Gunpowder and lead alone can reach them,' cried 
 Garreboyle. But the arquebuss is gone, and here 
 is nought save wood and feather. Let them shout,' 
 for a shout of scorn and defiance sounded across 
 the flood, as the servants of the earl relieved him 
 from the fallen horse, and found him, past hope, 
 unhurt — ' let them shout ; we shall meet yet with 
 a fairer field between us. My lord, they are mount- 
 ed again, and going.' 
 
 ' Let them go,' said Darcy, without raising his 
 eyes to witness his departure. He suUenly resum- 
 ed his armor, sprung in silence upon his horse, 
 struck him with the spurs, and turning his head 
 homeward, galloped back by the way he came. 
 
 IwsH Prudence. — In 1705, a pamphlet was pub- 
 lished in Dublin entitled ' The Report of the Com- 
 missioners aopointed to inquire into the Irish For- 
 feitures,' which contained matter highly offensive 
 to the government. On its being discovered that 
 Francis Annesly, one of the commissioners, and a 
 member in Parliament for the borough of Down- 
 patrick, was one of the authors of said report — he was 
 expelled the House. It was afterwards found that 
 James Hamilton, TuUamore, John Frenchard, and 
 Henry Langford, were also authors of said report ; 
 but on the House learning that Mr. Hamilton was 
 dead, they prudently entered the folio wing resolution 
 in their journals : — ' The House being informed that 
 James Hamilton of Tullamore, is dead, tlie House 
 thought fit not put farther question on, him.' 
 
 IRISH SNAKES. 
 
 There is something bordering on the ridiculous in 
 the very title of our essay, St. Patrick having not 
 only extirpated the 'vermefit' from owld Ireland, 
 but also prohibited, under severe pains and penal- 
 ties, any again coming hither. Their e.\pulsion has 
 been handed down by tradition, and faithfully re- 
 corded in our annals in both verse and prose. 
 
 From this period, Ireland remained free from 
 snakes, toads, and all other venomous creatures, a 
 fact acknowledged by all authors, whether natives 
 or strangers. Donat, bishop of Fesulae, says, when 
 noticing Ireland, 
 
 'No poison there infecte, no scaly snakes.' 
 
 Joceline, of Fumes, in his Life of St. Patrick, 
 confirms this statement, and Sir James Ware says, 
 'This island does not nouiish any venomous crea- 
 ture,' nor will they breed in it, though they were 
 imported. 
 
 Even old Fynes Moryson, who cannot be accused 
 of any partiality to the country, bears witness to its 
 truth; he says, 'I may not omit the opinion com- 
 monly received, that the earth of Ireland will not 
 suffer a snake or venomous beast to live.' Modem 
 authorities also furnish us with additional informa- 
 tion on this subject. About 1797, a gentleman is 
 said to have imported from England into Wexford, 
 a number of vipers; but mark the result of his 
 patriotic labors ; no sooner were they loose among 
 our shamrocks and shining daisies, than they were 
 as dead as a herring before you could have said 
 Jack Robinson.' 
 
 We are sorry to record that the virtues of the 
 good old times have passed away, as snakes are at 
 this moment free denizens of the county of Down, 
 and gamboling in its shrubberies and plantings — 
 aye, and within a few miles too of the place where 
 the ashes of our saint are said to repose. The par- 
 ticulars regarding the introduction of these serpents 
 are as follows: — 
 
 In the summer of 1831, a gentleman by way of 
 experiment, to ascertain whether snakes would sur- 
 vive in Ireland, brought from Scotland a few pair 
 of what are usually called the common snake, (col- 
 uber matrix). These he put into plantation at 
 Milecross, near Newtownards, where they soon, 
 from their number, gave evidence of becoming as 
 fruitful as if they had been in South Carolina. 
 About July, 1832, some of these snakes were ob- 
 served basking about the bottoms of the hedges 
 where they had been placed, and one of them hav- 
 ing crawled into an adjoining field, was killed by a 
 blow of a stick. It was a female, full of eggs, and 
 measured three feet three inches in length. 
 
 Tjp to this time the introduction of the snakes at 
 Milecross had been only known to few, who con- 
 cluded that they had perished long since, but the 
 news of the astounding fact, that they were not 
 only alive, but had also propagated their kind, be- 
 coming known, it excited the utmost alarm. It 
 was immediately reported that they were rattle- 
 snakes, and that their number were increased to 
 several thousands ; some old women even declared 
 that they had heard the noise of their rattles, above 
 a mile from where the defunct snake had been slain; 
 and to complete the alarm, their powers of fascina- 
 tion were said to be such, that birds were seen 
 dropping into their mouths, as they attempted to 
 fly over the trees where these monsters lay. 
 
 In the meantime, the report of an enormous rat- 
 tlesnake having been killed near Newtownards 
 reached Belfast, and presently all the virtuosi of 
 that town, from the puny naturalist to the execu- 
 tioner of butterfles and moths, were seen hastening 
 in the direction of Milecross, anxiou-^ly inquiring 
 for the great serpent, which rumor had now en- 
 larged to the length of ten feet and a half. To the 
 great joy of these humble disciples of Linna-us, the 
 dead snake was at length discovered, but shrivelled 
 like dried eel-skin. It was, however, considered 
 a very valuable prize, and was conveyed with all 
 pos.sible care and despatch to Belfast, and deposited 
 in its Museum. Wu have only to add that the 
 alarm soon subsided in the county of Down, and 
 that the remaining snakes still peaceably repose 
 I among the shrubberies and mosses of Milecross. 
 
88 
 
 IKISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 TeRJiosriCKASjOrasit is now called, Torfickmi. i?' 
 K haiidfome villapc in ihe county of Louth, four miles 
 north of Drofibcda, pleasantly situated on a small 
 river (over which is a handsome cut-stone hridge), half 
 a mile from the sea-shore, and is chiefly resorted to in 
 summer for the benefit of sea-bathing. 
 
 The name signifies the sanctuary of Saint Fechan, 
 who was Abbott of Fowre, in the couniyof WeS'tmcnth; 
 of whom Colf;an says that he ' founded the noble mim- 
 astery of Esdara, which the lord of the territory of 
 Liny er.dowid with gnat possessions, and with the 
 tract of land extending from the river, which leaves 
 the moLastiry to the sea;' and we learn from Ware, 
 that there was hero an abbey of Regular Canomssi s, 
 tlie possessions of which were contirmed by Pope Ce- 
 Icstinc the 1 bird, A. I) 1195. 
 
 In former limes ilie founder of a church was obli(;ed, 
 prior to its consecration by the bishop, to endow it with 
 certain properties for the maintenance of the clerf;y 
 connected with the establishment. To these lands, 
 which were denominated Erenach or Termon lands, 
 various privileges were annexed : they were exempt 
 from all lay charges, and became sanctuaries ; and 
 strictly ' territorium ccclesiastiam ' — and were, in 
 some respects, equivalent to our glebe lands ; and hence 
 the name, Termonfickan. 
 
 The paribb church of Saint Fechan is handsomely 
 situated on a rising ground over the river, and is a 
 neat commodious structure, having a good steeple 
 and spite, but cannot boast of much antiquity. In the 
 churchyard is an futique slouc cross, about six feet 
 high, with has-relitfs of the usual description, but much 
 defaced ; the church also contains some handsome 
 mural monuments. 
 
 A short distance from the church, and commanding 
 the rodd to the sea-shore, ia a lofty, square, embattled 
 tower, apparently of the reign of Henry the Eighth, in 
 very good preservation. It consists of three stories, 
 having a parapet at the top, with a look-out tower ; and 
 a platform on the side next the coast. From its situ- 
 ation and appearance, it has evidently been Intended 
 as a defence, and even yet might be used us sut h to 
 advantage, being very strong, and commanding the 
 country all round. It is now inhabited by mendicants, 
 and is called the ' curate's house ;' for what reason I 
 could never learn. 
 
 Termonfickan has been the residence of two remark- 
 able characters — Doctor James Ussher and Doctor 
 Oliver Pl\U)ket ; the one celebrated for his learning, 
 
 TERMOXFICKAX. 
 
 the other for his misfortunes. Of the latter it m.iyi 
 suffice to say, that he was characterized by Bishop 
 Burnett as ' a wise and sober man ; who was for living 
 quietly, and in due submission to the government.' 
 He was con\icted of an iinpo-sil.le crime, and sentenc- 
 ed to an ignominious death. He was dragficd on a 
 sledge to Tyburn, and executed on the 1st of July, 
 1681, in the presence of an immen.se multitude of 
 spectators. 
 
 After his execution, his head was severed from his 
 l)ody, which was divided into qu!ir;ers, and buried in 
 f-t. Giles's churchyard in the fields. At the end of 
 two ytais it was laiscd, and conveyed to a monastery 
 of English Bintdiclines at Lanibspring, in the Duke 
 of Brunswick's territoiies in Gomany, and re-buritd 
 there with muih pon.)i. The hcael, however, even 
 jct adorned with silvery brir, is preserved in a monas- 
 tery of Dominican nuns at Droghcda, in an ebony cas- 
 ket, in very good preservation, and even yet retains in 
 its feiiturcs the beniun and peaceable character of the 
 archbishop's countenance. 
 
 Legend of the Fbiar'b Lotou. — About five 
 miles to the northwest of Burrisokimc, and a little to 
 the west oILcrah, in the barony of Lower Oimond, 
 ai:d county of Tippcrary, the Friar's Lough is situated. 
 Jn winter it expni ds to a considerable breadth, but in 
 summer is no more than fifteen or sixteen perches in 
 circuit. Its appearance is no way interesting, as being 
 partly in a swaniiiy, niiwooded country, and rearly 
 surrounded by an old cut-away bog. 1 he neighboring 
 licasantry have a strange story respecting this Lough, 
 but for which, indeed, it would not be at all worthy of 
 notice. Tradition rceords that a huge monster, in the 
 form of a serpent, comniittcd great ravages through- 
 out all pans of Ireland (and especially in the neigh- 
 j borhood of the Lough), in which men, cjittlo and 
 bouses were elestroycd. If it was possible that a sin- 
 gle man had it in his power to kill the enormous rep- 
 tile, he might do it at pleusure, lor he would not 
 think it worth while to devour a single individual, us 
 not being sutlieient to give him one bit, whereas a 
 hundred men would not be able to do him the least 
 injury, lor they dare not go within hU reach, else he 
 would instantly swallow them up. Alter being a long 
 lime wandering through the island (to the great de- 
 structiou of the inhabiutnts, aa well as of cattle and 
 even timber, (or trees were devoured when no other 
 foe>d was to be had), a friar took it into his hands to 
 
 ovoicome hirn. The holy man walked up to the uion- 
 ster'.s side, and ordered him to go on towards the west, 
 which comniiind he instantly obeyed. Having arrived 
 at his destined place, he looked on the friar, and asked 
 him how long he was doomed to remain cnder wa- 
 ter? The answvr was, till the day of judgment, 
 which gave the monster much uneasiness, and caused 
 him to turn on a man who was ploughing in an adja- 
 lent field, and devour him along with the plough and 
 horses ; no sooner was this done than he plunged into 
 the deep. As soon as the friar saw him under water 
 he covered him with a lar^e pan, and thus prevented 
 the huge reptile from destr ying the entire island, 
 with its inhabitants. 
 
 I have been informed by good auiho.ity that a line 
 with a plummet was let down about thirty years ago, 
 in order to ascertain the depth of the Lough, but, al- 
 though the line was over a hundred yards in length, no 
 bottom could be met with. I have also been informed 
 that on a fine summer's day, if a stone should be cast 
 into ihe Lough, in about three minutes after the stone 
 has immergcd iu the surface of the water, a gurgling 
 noise is heard, as if the stone struck against metal ; 
 however, I cannot declare the latter to be a fact. The 
 track of the monster, as he passed on to the Lough, is 
 still pointed out by the peasantry inhabiting that quar- 
 ter. Inreed the serpentink way which they shew 
 is very remarkable; it commences about three miles 
 cast of the Lough, in the bog of Kilcarne. Suffice it 
 to say, when a new road (which is part of the direct 
 line between the town of Banagher and Burisokaiie), 
 was making through the bog, the workmen atone 
 time gave up ever having the shaking swamp (across 
 which the road bad to pass) filk'd up, notwithstanding 
 it being no more than three or four yards iu breadth. 
 
 Hoi'sE Flies. — The troublesome little insects may 
 he effectually destroyed without the use of poison. 
 Take half a spoonful of black pepper in powder, one 
 leaspooiifiil of brown sugar and one tablespooiiful of 
 cream ; mix thcni well together; aud place them in a 
 room, on the plate, where the flies ate troublesome, 
 aud they will soon disappear. 
 
 Garlic. — The smell of garlic, which is formida- 
 ble to many ladies, is perhaps the most infallible 
 remedy in the world against the vapors, and the 
 nervous tlisordcrs to which women are so often 
 subject. 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 89 
 
 TO CORRESPONDENTS. 
 
 O* OUR ('ni:Rii8POWi>KNT8 sliould tofward ooinmunioa- 
 tuiHs iiiUsuii'd lor iiisertiou iu the A/(>^//n/i</, not Inter tliun 
 tlie Sutindiiv before the diiy ofpublicatioii, as our inorens- 
 iux circulufioii ouuijiels us' to ro to piesK every Mouduy 
 ni.)ruin-; and shouhi bt- luidri'^sed— ' Kdito^^ of the Irish 
 Misceiiaiiy. lio:*tou, Mass.' t^ub.-^cnbers should mciitiou the 
 towiiship," county and Statf in which they retfiide. 
 
 'W.McC." Bo.^toii.— AVe do not receive pay for un insertion 
 ot'thisiiaturt'. l-jtcut-e us lor not iiit^ertiufj'lreland't; Free- 
 dom.' Could you uot rend seme work on the 'Art oi' Toe- 
 trv' before you try af^nin? 
 
 'T. I. VV'alsu,' t^uebec.— Many thaukct. The question 
 asked will be all^w■ered next week. 
 
 IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 BOSTON, SATURDAY, SEPTEMBER 18, 1858 
 
 THE MAN FOR CALWAY. 
 
 Our readers will find elsewhere an account of pro- 
 ceedings attending a supper given last week by a large 
 party of gentlemen, most of whom are Irishmen, to 
 C'apt. Thatcher and the ofRcers of the ' Propeller,' of 
 the new (ialway line, which has just reached our 
 shores. This vessel is the second thus far sent to 
 us, and, as it is the first step that costs in such 
 things, and as that step has been taken with as great 
 a degree of success as the more thoughtful friends of 
 the scheme were prepared to look for, we hope that 
 Mr. Lever, who seems to be the backbone of the 
 whole thing — that is, the lever that started the 
 machine — may turn out to be the very man destined 
 by Providence to carry it out to a thoroughly suc- 
 cessful termination. That he may cause stock in 
 Irish- American steamships to pay, and to pay well, 
 — that the new line may swell the purse, not of 
 England only, but of Ireland, too, — that if it do not 
 directly help all Ireland, in a money point of view, 
 it may turn out to be a permanent and safe invest- 
 ment for Galway. If she wake up, even at this 
 eleventh hour, and insist upon having her fair share 
 of the cost, the responsibility, the profits, and the 
 glory of the new enterprise, she may become rich 
 once more ; and not only all Ireland, but England 
 and America, will fii d that a new element has been 
 added to the commercial world, which should make 
 it more united, stronger, richer, and perhaps better 
 than it was before. The man who may do all this 
 will assuredly be the man for Galway. Perhaps he 
 may be the man for whom Ireland has looked so 
 long. Who knows ? In our Iron Age, national 
 independence is measured by national wealth, and 
 King Dollar, its emblem, is the product of labor- 
 saving machinery, electricity, and steam. Anything, 
 from any quarter, which may tend to save work, 
 and reduce time and space to their lowest terms, 
 is welcome to the spirit of the age. It makes King 
 Dollar's face grow more golden colored, and it makes 
 him grow in weight, size, and, consequently, in res- 
 pectability. If this Galway line become a perma- 
 nent Irish institution, the ambassadors of the com- 
 mercial powers — the merchants — will bethink them- 
 selves of hastening to give Ireland ' assurances of 
 their most distinguished consideration.' How long 
 since Ireland heard that music, think you ? 
 
 The telegraphic cable is as yet but an experiment. 
 We mean the inter-continental cable, stretching 
 along the bottom of a thousand or more miles of 
 ocean. AVe have a degree of interest in the cable 
 which will enable us to wait with the most exem- 
 plary patience until the aforesaid inter-continental 
 highway for King Dollar's news shall have become, 
 not a brilliant, because yellowish looking experi- 
 ment — not a partially successful enterprise, but a 
 thoroughly worked-out fact in the commercial or 
 King Dollar's world, in the gambling or King 
 Speculator's world, and in the professor's or Iving 
 Positive Science's world. 
 
 In the meantime, our world must move on, cable 
 or no cable. It may require a period of three years 
 or more until the enterprising managers of the cable 
 may be in a position to prove to the last deuionstra- 
 tionthat the wire will transmit intelligence regularly, 
 Bafely, speedily and surely ; that it is iu no especial 
 
 danger of destruction other than that superinduced 
 by the inevitable law of decay, and that an invest- 
 ment in the existing cable, or in any new and rea- 
 sonable project of the kind, would be us safe as an in- 
 vestment of money in land, upon which you can 
 walk, and in houses which you can see and inhabit, 
 or let or sell. There are many men who are rich 
 enough to help this new sea-serpent, and to send 
 two more on their wriggling way across the deep, 
 who, nevertheless, regard it just now as safe as a 
 Spanish chateau, or a castle in the air, or a front 
 row of house lots in the moon, would be as a thing 
 on which to stake money. Some years must pass 
 before these men will declare themselves satisfied, 
 and they may then step in and sow where they did 
 not reap. They may gain the ultimate profits, if 
 there are to be any. As for the glory of having in 
 vented and established the thing, why, let the in- 
 ventors have the glory. It is not worth much in 
 the market no w-a-days. It may bring a procession, 
 a dinner, a few speeches and newspaper articles — 
 nothing more. 
 
 But, in the meantime, it is certain that the tele- 
 graph from Galway to London, and of that from 
 Newfoundland to New York, will be an accomplish- 
 ed, and, therefore, a paying business. English cap- 
 italists have lately dusted the forgotten maps of the 
 western coast of Ireland and the eastern shores of 
 America, and, to their utter astonishment, they find 
 that Galway is really nearer to America than Liver- 
 pool is. Then they consider that, even if the cable 
 turn out to be a complete success, only kews can 
 be sent by it — it cannot shoot across the Atlantic 
 men and merchandise. These must be carried by 
 vessels, by the shortest route and the best vessels ; 
 for whoever crosses the ocean with goods for the 
 American market, or for supplies therefrom to be 
 sold in foreign parts, must remember that in trade 
 the maxim ' first comer to be first served' is the 
 law, and that thousands — millions — may be won 
 or lost by the gain or loss of twenty-four hours in a 
 voyage across the Atlantic Ocean. And the practi- 
 cal conclusion drawn from these and similar consid- 
 erations is, that, whatever may become of the cable, 
 Galway furnishes a most available port for the en- 
 try and shipping of men and of merchandise in this 
 inter-continental business. If the cable fulfil its 
 promises the news from America can be used by the 
 managers of the Galway enterprise as surely as by 
 the London and Liverpool merchants, and the 
 steamer from Ireland may have the advantage of the 
 shorter passage, and, accidents excepted, may al- 
 ways expect to reach the American market certainly 
 hours, and, with good management, even days in 
 advance of the arrival of the English steamers. — 
 Should the cable prove a splendid failure, Galway 
 has still the advantage of the shorter route, with the 
 additional security that the cable cannot be used in 
 England against the interests of what is comically 
 styled the sister kingdom, and that Galway may 
 bring not only to America the freshest goods but 
 also the latest news. 
 
 All this sounds finely in our imaginative ears, 
 perhaps, and we have been so accustomed to take 
 what might, could and should be done for what 
 will, must, and shall be done by Irishmen at home 
 and abroad for Ireland, that wx almost instinctively 
 put on a grave countenance when a project like this 
 promising one of the Galway line is mentioned. It 
 is like the old and yet ever new syllogism — ^such a 
 nation will be free if it ought to be. But it ought 
 to be ; 80 it will be. The will does not seem to be 
 wanting, at any rate. 
 
 But when, good gcnilemen ? Of course, there is 
 a good time coming, if not in this world, certainly 
 in the next, when time shall have been re-annexed 
 to eternity. The ' good time coming ' has been for 
 many years the staple out of which orations, 
 speeches, sungs and ' talks ' have been manufactur- 
 ed by orators, specch-mukers, songsters and talkers, 
 
 and yet the staple is only the worse for wear — no 
 manufactured goods appear — when you can find a 
 market for it in London and Liverpool, and in New 
 Y'ork and Boston the stock will rise, and the talkers 
 will say — we told you so ! 
 
 The stock will rise in value, but for whose benefit? 
 Will Ireland be the gainer ! Will she have a fail 
 share of the profits ? 
 
 And here we wish to off'er a suggestion, which 
 may or may not be of service. At the supper given 
 in honor of Capt. Thatcher and his officers, it was 
 noticed that our ' solid men of Boston ' were not 
 present. We here refer to our American fellow-citi- 
 zens who stand high in a social or political sense. 
 And we believe that some few regarded the absence 
 of these gentlemen as a misfortune likely to affect 
 the destinies of the new Galway line. 
 
 Y'ou are mistaken, gentlemen, utterly mistaken ; 
 and it is a singular thing that experience, especially 
 your American experience, has not taught you that 
 a procession, or a dinner, or a ball, means only a 
 procession, a dinner or a ball. We could name at 
 least a hundred men, distinguished strangers for the 
 most part, who dreamed the same dream, awoke, 
 and found it not only a dream, but a nightmare. — 
 Take the case of Kossuth. What a triumphal entry 
 was that of his into New Y'ork — what a regal tour 
 through the Eastern States, and what a humiliating 
 decline and fall was his until the day when he left 
 the country, as one disappointed, heart-broken Al- 
 exander Smith ! And where is he now ? He occu- 
 pies a lower position than he did any time these ten 
 last years. ' Distance lends enchantment to the 
 view.' In Hungary and Turkey he was regarded by 
 many as a hero — in America and in England he 
 turns out to be one of the band who are forever 
 singing about ' the good time coming.' And what 
 we say of Kossuth may be said of several persons, 
 famous and otherwise, who have alternately played 
 the part of the ' hero of the day ' at processions, 
 dinners and balls, and who found that the people 
 only wanted a holiday, the magnates wanted a din- 
 ner, and the women expected a dance. As for the 
 hero of the day, why he might go and beg his bread 
 after the nine days wonder created by his advent 
 had been effaced by the appearance of some other 
 hero or shero. 
 
 No, Cromwell was right when he said — ' Trust in 
 God, BUT keep tour powder dry.' Another genius 
 enunciated the same truth when he said, 'Help your- 
 self and God will, in all cases, help you.' And so 
 Mr. O'Connell loved to repeat the lines — 
 
 ' Hereditary bondsmen, know ye not 
 
 Who would be iiee, th]£Msei,ves must strike the blow,' 
 It is as true now as it was then. 
 AVhy do you attach so much importance to a 
 speech, a nod or a wink from others, when the 
 work, if done at all, must be done by yourselves ? 
 Y'ou CAN do it. Very well, then, up and do it ! A 
 respectable and tangible beginning has been made 
 whereby Galway and Boston may shake hands. 
 Take care that neither by an over reliance upon oth- 
 ers less interested than you are, or by a division of 
 purpose and action among yourselves, you postpone 
 for another decade, and perhaps for an age, the ful- 
 filment of a promise which has been made so often 
 to you, that it bears to you the sound of sure proph- 
 ecy. 
 
 Irishmen in Ireland, and Irishmen and their de- 
 scendants in America, imn do this work. Will they 
 do it ? In another number we may offer a few sug- 
 gestions which may serve to solve this question. 
 
 SEKGiiA.sT O'Neil, who Is Well known amongst 
 us for the services he has rendered in advocating the 
 establishment of a Galway line of steamers to this 
 country, has, 'to suit the action to the word,' sent 
 to Ireland per steamer 'Propeller,' which sailed for 
 Galway on the 11th inst., $150 for Irish manufac- 
 tured goods, for family use. 
 
«)0 
 
 IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 [SouB time ago a reverend correspondent in the 
 West wished us to give ti.e orininnl ballad from which 
 tlie two lines .luoied in our ' prospectus ' were taken. 
 Wo have not been able to procure a copy in print ; but 
 a friend, who often heard ii sung;, has supplied us with 
 the followinj,', from memory. We believe it will be 
 found us nearly accurate as possible.— Ed. Irish Mis.) 
 
 THE IRISH STRANGER. 
 O, pity till' full' ul n poor Iri.-h siniii(;>.r 
 That '8 wttuiicred thus far IVom his liome; 
 I sigh lor protecliou from want, woo and danger. 
 And know not which way for to roam. 
 Shall I ever return to Uihernia's green bowers, 
 Whore tyranny has trampled the sweetest offlowcrs, 
 That gave comfort to me iu ray lonelicut hours? 
 But they are gone— shall I ever see them more! 
 With wonder I gaied on that proud lofty building 
 As in grandeur it rose for its lord ; 
 With sorrow I belitld my own garden soon yielding 
 The choicest of fruits for hi.« board. 
 O, where is my lather's low cottage of clay, 
 Wherein I've spent niauy a long happy day! 
 Alas! his lordship has contrived it away; 
 It has gone— shall I ever see it more! 
 Wheu nature was seen on each sloe-bush and bramble, 
 I sat smiling nydst beautiful bloom; 
 Through the llelds, without danger, 1 used for to ramble. 
 And lavish amidst their perfume. 
 1 have ranged thiough the fields when the sweet feathered 
 
 throng 
 Would joyfully sing tlieir loud echoing song. 
 Tho.se days of my pleasure passed sweetly along; 
 
 But they are gone— shall 1 ever see them more! 
 
 Wlien the sloes and the berries hung ripe on the bushes, 
 
 I've gathered them oft' without harm; 
 
 I have gone to the ttelds and shorn the green rushes, 
 
 I'repariug for w inter's cold storm. 
 
 I have sat by the fire on a cold winter's night, 
 
 Along with my friends, telling tales of delight; 
 
 Those days gave me pleasure, I then could invite; 
 
 But tlicy ai-c gone— will I ever see them more! 
 
 lirin, sad Erin! it grieves me to ponder 
 The wrongs of thy oft injured isle; 
 
 Thy sons, many thousands, deploring do wauder 
 On shores far away iu exile. 
 But give me the pleasure to cross o'er the main- 
 America might yield me some shelter from pain— 
 
 1 am only lamenting whilst here I remain. 
 The past joys I shall never see more. 
 Farewell, then, sad Erin, and those 1 left weeping 
 Upon thy disconsolate shore; 
 
 Farewell to the graves where my fathers lie sleeping— 
 
 Their graves I shall ever adore. 
 
 Farewell to each pleasurt—l once had a home; 
 
 Farewell, now a stranger in England I roam; 
 
 But give me my Irecdom or give me a tomb. 
 
 And, in pity, 1 shall ask for no more. 
 
 (Written for the Miscellany.] 
 
 NOTES FROM A JOURNAL. 
 
 nv .J. E. F. 
 
 No. 11.— A ride throu^jh the district of Burren. 
 
 A visit to the rocky and mountainous district of 
 Burren, is one that should not he misicd by the trav- 
 eller in Clare. In drivinc thitlier, we skirted along the 
 Atlantic, by way of Black Head, which, althouph not 
 remarkable for reraantic scenery, htus a wildness that 
 breaks the monotony of a drive by the sea-shore. On 
 our riehi lav the rusgcd, rocky mountain, and on our 
 left stretched the calm and placid waves of Galway 
 
 Bay. 
 
 The town of Ballyvaughan stands on the coast, and 
 in a line almost directly opposite to Galway. It is 
 but a small town, and the best building it can boast of 
 is the work house. A few miles further on is another 
 small village called New Quay, and it wa.s here we 
 hauled up for a couple of hours to refresh the inner 
 man, and test the merits of the celebrated ■ Poldoody 
 oysters.' The present and only proprietor of the oys- 
 ter beds is a Mr. Ryan. There are not many beds 
 here, and yet ovstermen all over I.eland cry out— 
 • Poldoodv oysters !' knowing their reputation. The 
 bivalves are certainly good, yet it would ' puzzle a con- 
 jurer' to tell the difference between them and some we 
 tried from neighboring beds, who do not rejoice in the 
 name of ' Poldoody.' 
 
 Ketnrning to Ballyvaughan, our driver took a differ- 
 
 ent route homeward, ascending Corkscrew Hill, as it 
 is called, by the seri)eniine road. From the top of this 
 hill, the view is very fine. On three sides are hills 
 covered with limestone, with here and there a tuft of 
 grass shooting forth, on which sheep (their noses sharp- 
 ened) lire fattening themselves for the knife of the 
 butcher. At your feet lies the Vale of Biillyvaughnn, 
 with its casilo, town and neat country houses, looking 
 like an oasis in a desert. 
 
 After leaving Corkscrew Hill, a couple of hours 
 jaunting" changed tliea.'ipeet of the country from rock 
 to peat; and for miles the eye can scarcely see any 
 thing but 'black turf.' Some of the customs of the 
 Irish peasantry are to be despised, while others are 
 worthy of imitation. One of the first is the constant 
 putting the hand to the hat when they meet a well- 
 dressed man on the road ; and the latter is of invok- 
 ing n blessing on persons working in the fields as they 
 pass by them. You will scarcely ever see an Irish- 
 man pass a field of laborers without first stopping a mo- 
 ment and saying, in Irish, ' God bless the work.' In 
 meeting one another, too, their first salutation gener- 
 ally is, 'God save you, to which is responded, ' God 
 save you kindly,' and if it ' rains pitchforks,' they will 
 usually say, ' it is a fine day, glory to God !' These 
 things we frequently witnessed on the road. 
 
 The scene again changed from rock to rock, as we 
 approached the ruined Castle of Lemenegh. This is 
 in a tottering condition, and it is no easy task to pick 
 your steps on the crumbling stairs. From the top the 
 scene is not variegated, as you do not see woods, lakes, 
 rivers and mouniains, but rocks, rocks, rocks. The 
 lower part of the castle is at present used as a stable, 
 and the crows have taken possession of the upper 
 part. In one of the rooms there is a trap-door, open- 
 ing into a cellar, of whose depth and tenants there are 
 marvellous stories. There is a story of this castle 
 being inhabited at one time by a cruel and vindictive 
 woman, who hjd obtained the soubriquet of ' Red 
 Mary,' from her bloody deeds. Her custom was to 
 invite travellers to partake of her hospitality, lodge 
 them one night, but the next morning they were sure 
 to step on the fatal trap, and they became travellers to 
 another world. 
 
 Our driver hauled up at the little village of Corofin. 
 A change of horses was made here, and towards even- 
 ing we were skirting the romantic Lake of Inchiquin. 
 The road leads up the side of a hill, which is thickly 
 wooded, and as you stand at the edge of the lake, and 
 look upward at the trees, rising one above the other, 
 and then look at the mirror-like lake, in which you see 
 the reflection of the hill, it would certainly need no 
 coloring to make a charming picture for an artist. 
 
 The lake is said to contain excellent trout, and the 
 place is much resorted tor pleasure-excursions from 
 surrounding towns. There are a few swans gliding 
 over its smooth waters. We fain would have wished 
 that the ' shades of evening ' would ' steal not o'er us,' 
 but it was 8 o'clock P. M., and the darkening shadows 
 made cur driver give an extra touch to ' Rosinanta,' 
 and the little lake of Inchiquin was soon far behind. 
 
 Kilfenora, another small town, remarkable for noth- 
 ing except its age and some ancient stone crosses, was 
 passed, and, as there had been a fail there during the 
 day, there was a goodly number ot the ' finest peas- 
 antry in the worid,' strolling about the town, in search 
 ot friends to treat, or foes to maltreat. During the 
 day they carefully tuck up the ends of their long rid- 
 ingcoats under their arms, to prevent them from being 
 trodden upon, but now they were loose, and woe be- 
 tide the luckless wight who stepped upon one ol them ; 
 yet this is an impossibility, unless the wearer kindly 
 consents to stoop a little, lor the sake of a friendly 
 
 • scrimmage.' , . , . 
 
 This town was famous at one time for its faction 
 fights, but, happily, they now seldom occur; and on 
 fair evenings the citizens can sleep in peace without 
 being disturbed at night by the cry of ' High for Nca- 
 gle !' and 'High for Kelly!' and the bloody recep- 
 tions they gave one another. The Irish peasants are 
 growing wiser every day, and my prayer is, that they 
 may continue so to do until they are wise cnoogh to 
 
 know that Ireland belongs to themselves ; and let 
 them never use their shillelah but to knock out the 
 brains of a soldier when their ' opportunity' comes. 
 
 To-morrow we bid adieu to Clare, proceed to Lim- 
 erick, and thence in a few days to Dublin. 
 [To be Continued.] 
 
 Fiiii.ADiiLi'iiiA, Sept. 7, 1858. 
 To the Editor of the Irish Miscellany ; — 
 
 Gentlemen — The first volume of the Miscelldny lies 
 before me, and a very valuable and interesting book it 
 makes. Its well illustrated pages of men and places 
 of poor Ireland recalls to memory many a scene of 
 days gone by, never, I hope, to be forgotten by Irish- 
 men. 
 
 ' Wherc're we go, whatever forms we see, 
 Our hearts, uutramelled, fondly turns to thee.' 
 I cannot help congratulating you on the success the 
 Miscellany has met with ; it is just the paper that is 
 wanted. The Miscellany, I have no doubt, will have, 
 if it has notalready, the greatest circulation of any Irish 
 American paper published in this country. 
 
 The ' cable' — the ' cable ' that cable that connects 
 Ireland to the United States— would it were something 
 stronger than a wire rope that joined Ireland to the 
 United States. The past week has been one of unu- 
 sual excitement in Philadelphia. On Wednesday, 
 Sept. 1, we had a celebr.ition on the success of the lay- 
 ing of the Atlantic Telegraph Cable. In the morning 
 the military, various societies, citizens, &c., paraded, 
 and made a very creditable display. At noon, there 
 was a meeting in Independence Square. The meeting 
 was opened with prayers by some of our prominent 
 ministers, after which the Hon. Wm. D. Kellcy deliv- 
 ered a very able and eloquent oration on the ' Cable,' 
 in the presence of two or three thousand persons. 
 
 In the evening the firemen had a torchlight proces- 
 sion, with mosic, banners. &c. It was not as good as 
 was expected. We also had fireworks on a very grand 
 scale. The houses and stores on the principal streets 
 were nearly all illuminated, with representations of the 
 laying of the cable, Valentine Bay, Trinity Bay, &c., 
 with curious inscriptions, some of which I give you : — 
 • The United friends of human progress ;' ' Chemistry 
 and Electricty — Hand in hand they annihilate space.' 
 Under a portrait of. Franklin was — ' He drew the Pro- 
 methean fire from Heaven ;' under a portrait of Morse, 
 ' He harnessed it and made it obedient to man ;' under 
 portraits of Morse and Dagucrre was—' Telegraph 
 and Photograph ;'— the combination is simple, yet con- 
 tains much. Morse taught the lightning to convey 
 thoughts, and Dagucrre the sun to paint in truthful 
 form. Another: 
 
 'The cable laid beneath the sea. 
 Shall breed perpetual peace betwixt you and me.' 
 But enough. I have occupied loo much of your 
 valuable space already. Perhaps I will say more of 
 the 'cable' in a future letter; but I do not think it will 
 benefit this country as much as most people suppose. 
 I rather think it will prove more of an enemy than a 
 friend to the prosperity of these Uniied States. I 
 hope otherwise. 
 
 Wishing you that success which industry and an 
 endeavor to please so fully deserves, 1 am, 
 
 Truly yours, J. J. D. 
 
 An Enolish Jury.— Ann Coate, a Taunton nymph, 
 was indicted for stealing £2 13s 6d from the person of 
 a soldier at Taunton. The foreman of the jury, who 
 hiid been specially requested by the Clerk of Assize to 
 assume the seat of honor, (we presume from some 
 fancied intelligence upon his features,; said— 'We find 
 her guilty; but the evidence is very unsatisfactory,' 
 (laughter.) The Judge— 'Then you ought to find her 
 not guilty.' A Juryman (confidently to his lordship) 
 
 'Why jou see the case rests entinly on the evidence 
 
 of one man, who was three part* drunk, and that is 
 very unsatisfactory to an upright mind. The Judge 
 
 'If you do not thiuk the evidence sufficient, you 
 
 should acquit her.' The Foreman— 'Gnilty.' The 
 Judge (to the prisoner)— 'You will be kept in coafine- 
 ment six weeks.' 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 91 
 
 [Written for tlie Misoellnuy ] 
 THE WARRIOR'S CRAVE. 
 
 UY LARUV LOAFER. 
 
 ' Alter life's Btflil fever he sleeps well '— SuAKiiSrEAnE. 
 
 Life's fever o'er, he sleeps serene, 
 
 Enclosed in silent tomb; 
 Ambition's flame within his breast 
 
 Finds now no genial room; 
 His charging cry is heard no more 
 'Bove clashing steel and cannon's roar; 
 His sword and plume hang up at last, 
 Memorials of his prowess i)ast. 
 
 Shrill trumpet's blast and beatot drum 
 
 May tell new conHict 's near. 
 And victor hosts ring out their loud 
 
 lleverberating cheer; 
 Unheeded as the gentle breeze 
 Of summer through the leafy trees, 
 These martial sounds above him roll — 
 Tbey gladden not again his soul. 
 
 His ear is deaf to music's strain 
 
 And tramp of squadron's feet; 
 Kor banners wavering in the air 
 
 His grateful eye shall meet ; 
 His steed, to whom the battle's roar 
 Than wild waves music on the shore 
 More joyous seem'd, now drops his head 
 Grief-stricken for the mighty dead. 
 
 Though death, with sullen gloom, invests 
 
 The air around this grave. 
 Say not that with lite perisheth 
 
 The laurels of the brave ; 
 His grateful country shall uprear 
 The marble column high in air 
 His fame to tell, and history's page 
 Extol his deeds through future age. 
 
 (Translated from the Eeveu de la Presse, May 3.) 
 DETAILS REGARDING THE LIFE OF THE POPE. 
 
 Generally speaking, the more exalted a man's 
 dignity is, the more arduous is his life. I know 
 people suppose the very reverse to be the case, 
 yet it is nevertheless true. There is not so much 
 freedom in the palace of the prince as in the lowly 
 dwelling of the laborer. The highest dignitary in 
 the world is, beyond contradiction, the Pope — the 
 Pope, the supreme head of religion on earth, High 
 Priest of God, Bishop and Pastor of all the faithful, 
 spiritual father of monarchs as well as of their sub- 
 jects. There is moreovr, no man who leads a more 
 austere life than the Pope, more laborious, more 
 toilsome, and more difficult. From noon till night, 
 and from the first to the last day of the year, he is 
 literally the slave of his .sublime duty, and the ser- 
 vant of the servants of God, as the Sovereign Pon- 
 tiffs designate themselves in their bulls and decrees. 
 You are, perhaps, anxious to know, dear reader, 
 how the day passes with the Pope. Our Holy Fa- 
 ther, Pope Pius the Ninth, is a handsome and ma- 
 jestic old man, of a tall commanding figure, a coun- 
 tenance mild and earnest, and a voice sonorous and 
 sympathetic. The palace which he inhabits is call- 
 ed the Vatican, and adjoins the basilica of St. Pe- 
 ter's. The vast halls of the Vatican are magnifi- 
 cently and yet simply decorated ; the walls are all 
 covered with scarlet, and, except the Pontificial 
 throne, there are no other scats but arm chairs 
 of wood. After a long range of apartments, the 
 first of which are set apart for the attendants and 
 the guard, according to their rank, and the next for 
 the different persons that compose the Pope's house- 
 hold, we come to the part especially designed for 
 his Holiness. These apartments are small, and more 
 simple than the rest. The first is the study of the 
 Holy Father. There everj* day he grants the nu- 
 merous audiences of which wc shall speak presently. 
 He is seated in an arm chair, richly gilt, and cov- 
 ered with scarlet velvet ; before him is a large square 
 table, covered with silk of the same color as the 
 walls ; above the chair is suspended a dais or cano- 
 py of the same dye, emblazoned with the Pontifical 
 
 wood, and you have the entire furniture of this 
 cabinet. 
 
 This first chamber communicates with a second, 
 perfectly like it, except that at its end there is a 
 bed, draped with red silk. This is the Pope's bed- 
 chamber. Then there is a third apartment, the 
 dining-room, again furnished in the same manner. 
 The Holy Father always eats alone, from a table 
 covered with red silk, like that in his study. The 
 last of the suite is the library, a large and hand- 
 some apartment with four or five windows ; it is 
 here that the Pope usually holds his council of minis- 
 ters. 
 
 His Holiness is always attired in white, and wears 
 on his head a calotte, or cap of white silk ; his sou- 
 tan is of blue cloth in winter, of light woollen and 
 white silk in summer. His large belt or girdle is 
 also of white silk with tassels of gold. His slip- 
 pers, which still retain the ancient name of mules, 
 are red, with a cross embroidered on the instep of 
 the foot. It is this cross which is always kissed 
 by those who approach the Vicar of Christ. 
 
 When the Pope goes forth from his chamber, he 
 puts over his soutane a lace surplice, a purple cope, 
 trimmed with white fur, and which is called mo- 
 sette, and, lastly, a stole embroidered with gold. 
 He^ covers his head with a large hat of red silk, 
 a little turned up on each side, and ornamented with 
 a gold tassal. The usage of the Pontifical court 
 does not permit him to appear in the streets except 
 in a carriage ; beyond the city gates he often takes 
 long walks on foot, delighting to stop on his way to 
 speak to the poor and the children, and giving his 
 holy benediction to all whom he meets. The mo- 
 ment the Pope is seen, those who meet him un- 
 cover and prostrate themselves before him, in testi- 
 mony of the respect due to the character of the Su- 
 preme Pontiff. 
 
 The Holy Father rises at an early hour. After 
 prayers he proceeds to his chapel to celebrate the 
 Holy Mass. This chapel is small, and near the 
 Pope's apartment. The Holy Sacrament is always 
 kept there, and Pio Nono, in his devotion towards 
 the Divine Eucharist, watches himself over the re- 
 plenishment of the two lamps that burn perpetually 
 before the tabernacle. He celebrates the Mass slow- 
 ly and in a saintly manner ; his august visage is 
 often bathed in tears, whilst he holds in his hands 
 the hidden God whose Vicar he is. Ordinarily he 
 says Mass at half-past seven, and is present repeat- 
 ing acts of thanksgiving at a second Mass celebrated 
 by one of his chaplains. Then he recites on his 
 knees, with one of the prelates of his suite, a part of 
 the Breviary, and afterwards returns to his apart- 
 ment. 
 
 The Pope's breakfast consists of a simple cup of 
 coffee without mUk. Italian sobriety is proverbial, 
 and this is the first meal of nearly all the Romans. 
 Up to about ten o'clock the Holy Father is engag- 
 ed every day with his Prime Minister, who is a Car- 
 dinal, and who is called a Secretary of State. He 
 is the person who has the principal charge of the 
 temporal affairs of the States of the Church. 
 
 At ten o'clock the audiences commences — a most 
 laborious task, which would be extremely onerous, 
 exhau.sting and wearying if they did not relate to 
 questions of the highest importance, and the most 
 grave interests of religion and society at large. Car- 
 dinals, Bishops, Princes, Ambassadors, Priests, and 
 the faithful, come from every part of the world, lay- 
 ing before the feet of the Head of the Church their 
 requests, their homage, or their wants. The Pope 
 remains seated during all these audiences. In his 
 presence every one remains on bended knees, or if 
 he permits it, standing ; the Cardinals and the 
 Princes alone having the privilege of seating them- 
 selves on the ottamana, to which -n'c have already 
 alluded. On entering this presence-chamber of the 
 Pope, the persons admitted perform three genuflcx 
 
 having advanced half way, and the third, at the 
 Pope's feet ; they then kiss his foot or his hand, 
 after which ceremonies the audience commences. 
 As soon as this is over the Holy Father rings a lit- 
 tle hand bell, and another visitor is announced, and 
 at once introduced by one of the prelates in atten- 
 dance. Gentlemen alone are thus admitted into 
 the Pope's apartments by an invariable rule. As 
 ladies, they arc admitted to an audience once or 
 twice a week, in a spacious saloon forming part of 
 the museums of the Vatican. 
 
 The forenoon audiences last generally more than 
 four hours in succession, ^^^len finished, at about 
 two or half-past two o'clock, the Pope proceeds to 
 his dining-hall, and partakes of a frugal repast. 
 Then he recites, again on his knees, the remainder 
 of his breviary ; and after some brief moments of re- 
 pose, he drives out to take a little exercise. Often 
 the destination of these recreative drives is some 
 venerable sanctuary where a feast is celebrated some 
 hospital, or some prison. If the weather be unfa- 
 vorable, the Holy Father contents himself with 
 walking for a short time in his library on the cover- 
 ed corriders of the Vatican. At the close of the day, 
 indicated in Italy by the sound of the Angelus, and 
 hence called the Ave Maria, the opeP re-enters his 
 palace, recites with his suite the Angelical Saluta- 
 tion, adding the De Profundis for all the faithful 
 departed who have died during the day throughout 
 the world. The audiences are then recommenced. 
 Papers are here substituted to his Holiness for sig- 
 nature ; the decrees of the different Koman congre- 
 gations who share amongst themselves the supervi- 
 sion of the religious affairs of the whole Catholic 
 world, are next laid before the Pope for his sover- 
 eign approval and final decision. These audiences 
 continue till ten or eleven o'clock at night, after 
 which the Holy Father takes a slight collation, con- 
 sisting of some fruit and vegetables. He then fin- 
 ishes the recital of his breviary, and afterwards 
 takes some hours of repose, so saintly and laborious- 
 ly earned. AVith very rare exceptions, such are the 
 days of the Pope. A life like this, notwithstanding 
 the honors which attend it, is a continued subjec- 
 tion, an incessant abnegation of himself. More- 
 over, when a Sovereign Pontiff enters into God's 
 views, as is the practice of our Holy Father the 
 present Pope, the holy and admirable Pius IX., his 
 life is perfect before the Lord, and merits more than 
 any other life, the great and blessed recompense 
 promised to the faithfnl servant. 
 
 and royal arms ; the stools or ottomans for the Car. 
 
 dinals and the pi'inccs, then two or three seats of ' ions ; the first at the threshold, the second, after 
 
 Debt. — Ferdinand Armiue had passed the Rubicon. 
 He was in debt. If youth hut knew the fatal misery 
 that they are entailing on themseivs the moment they 
 accept a pecuniary credit to which they are not en- 
 titled, how they would start in their career ! how pale 
 they would turn ! how they would tremble and clasp 
 their hands in agony at the preclj>lce on which they 
 are disporting! Debt is the prolific mother of folly 
 and of crime; It taints the course of life in all its 
 dreams. Hence so many unhappy marriages, so many 
 prostituted pens, and venal politicians. It hath a 
 small beginning, but a giant's growth and strength. 
 When we m-nke the monster, we make our master, 
 who haunts us at all hours, and shakes his whip of 
 scorpions forever in our sight. The slave hath no 
 overseer so severe. Faiistus, when he signed the bond 
 wirh blood, did net secure a doom more terrific. But 
 when we are young we must enjoy ourselves. True; 
 anil there are few things more gloomy tlun the recol- 
 lection of a youth that has not hec-n enj.iyed. What 
 prosperity of manhood, what splendor of old age, can 
 compensate for it? Wealth is power, and in youth, of 
 all seasons of life, we require power, because we can 
 enjoy every thing that we can command. What then 
 Is to done? I leave the qncsiion to the schoolmen, 
 because I am convinced that to morall/.e with the In- 
 experienced availeth nothing. 
 
 What is the difi'crence between a man and a woman? 
 Hard to tell. One can't conceive. 
 
IKlSfl MISCELLANY. 
 
 From the Loudon Timoa. 
 IRELAND PAST AND PRESENT. 
 
 Thirty joars «■,') tlij coii'iition of In'liintl was a dii 
 grace, not to Knglami, but to Eiirjpo in.'ll' N'owliero' 
 was (hero a people «o ill-fed, so ill-dotlied, so ill- 
 hoased. For these misfortunes and inlirniities which 
 briog upon the poor-books a twentieth of the people of 
 prosperous England, and as much as a twelfth, or 
 even a tenth, of some thriving agricultural districts, 
 the Irish people had no legal resource except that lib- 
 erty to beg which an English statesman once alluded 
 to OS a tolerable equivaL-nt. For those who were 
 ashamed to beg, and strong enough to dig, there re- 
 mained the lowest description of husbiindry known in 
 the world, small holdings without proper buildings, 
 implements, or stock, yet so necessary to the exi<t- 
 enco of the cultivator, that he allowed himself to bo 
 rack-rented out of all proportion or power. To de- 
 fend his position when he could pay no rent, when an- 
 other bid more, or when the landlord attempted a bet- 
 ter system, he had no legal resource except comliina- 
 tion to murder — a practice wtiich has not yet received 
 the sanction of any British statesman. Besides his 
 rent to his landlord, generally an absentee, he had to 
 pay tithes to a clergy whom he believed to be the 
 agents of a satantic heresy, and who had precisely the 
 same opinion of him and his creed. The mure he 
 paid the more he dcnonnced, and when he dischirged 
 his legal obligations it was only to feed the flames of 
 an odious persecution. Of course he did combine 
 against landlord and clergy ; he devised methods suit- 
 able to his condition and class, and found chiefs equal- 
 ly ready and fit. 
 
 So, thirty years ago, there raged a social war, which 
 the greatest captain of the day pronounced to be not 
 only fatal to our credit, but dangerous to our weal, 
 and pregnant niih the worst consequences, if not met 
 with timely concessions. A most able and unscrupu- 
 lous man, who found his own line of greatness in 
 ripening and organizing the social disorders of his 
 country, and who set at noujiht every con.-ideration 
 that came in his way, held the heart of Ireland in his 
 hand, aud could do what he pleased with that excita- 
 ble race. Thus at the same time there raged three 
 fierce wars in the island — the political, the religious, 
 and the predial. 
 
 The first brought its chief to beard the legislature in 
 its own halls; the second actually suspended for years 
 the legal provision for the established clergy; the third 
 threatened every day to send every landlord to the 
 grave, where already lay, in many instances, his most 
 active agents, his most improving tenants, and several 
 of his relations and friends. The result of this was a 
 social misery, an uncertainty of life, and a precarious- 
 ness of condition utterly incompatible with happy and 
 healthy existence. 
 
 The landlord would not reside where he hated and 
 was bated in return; where he dispensed wretchedness, 
 and where his life was sought, ilis wife could not 
 bear a country where she lived half the year with the 
 lower windows boarded with three-inch planks, where 
 an obnoxious color provoked angry missiles, where 
 her husband had given a site for a popish mass-house, 
 and where every servant about the house was in secret 
 league with the foe. So their visits were few and far 
 between, and they generally resided where provisions 
 were not so cheap, or life either, in this peaceful coun- 
 try. Every week, sometimes every morning, the land- 
 lord had letters from persons playing a double game 
 between him and a band of assassins. He was duly 
 informed of the proceedings of clubs that met every 
 night for the enforcement of rude justice at the ex- 
 pense of landlords and their agents. He had to check 
 the letters one against another, and to secure, if possi- 
 ble, by calling in frtsli aid, that they were not all in 
 collision against him. 
 
 When thus up to the arrangements of the shooting 
 season, he would find his information verified by a 
 murder or an attempt. It was, of course, gratif\ ing to 
 find himself on the right scent, and that his life cer- 
 tainly was sought. True, the assassins often faded, 
 and the victims, or intended victims, had their conso- 
 
 litiou'i. The assassins seldom failed to kill somebody, 
 though often the wrong man. When one man was 
 shot f)r another, the one had the comfort of feeling 
 j that he was the victim of a mistake, and the other was 
 at least equally pleased to have the benefit of it. This 
 was Irish society thirty ycirs ago. The natural con- 
 sequence of absenteeisrti and mutual hatred was some- 
 thing worse thin barbarism. Yet there were also riot 
 and extravagance. There were ideal income, over- 
 whelming debt, consuming mortgages, millstones of 
 settlement, huge castles never lived in or paid for, and 
 every evil of public or private life, enough to have 
 brought on a hundred bloody revolutions, but for the 
 immensely preponderating powjr of wealthy and Pro- 
 testant England. 
 
 Could it have been imagined thirty years ago that, 
 in the year 185S, two men of different parties, an Irish 
 Viceroy and an ex-Prcmier, would be drawing such a 
 picture of Irish peace and prosperity as that given in 
 the speeches of Lird Eglinton and Lord Palmorston? 
 Woald a prediction of the Atlantic telegraph have 
 been more dislielieved! How has this change come to 
 pass! It is the result, wu freely admit, rather of events 
 than of any human wisdom. It is the work, mainly, 
 of heaven, and not of man. Among the causes which 
 have contributed we must reckon the gold discoveries, 
 and that great prosperity which has raised the condi- 
 tion of labor, and given a man his duo all over the 
 world, nowhere so much as in Ireland. 
 
 Such is the part which events have had in the mat- 
 ter. Legislation, too, has done something; but it has, 
 wisely perhaps, acted only a secondary part. It has 
 followed in the train of events, mending, as it were, 
 the ravages of the tornado, rebuilding after the confla- 
 gration, but finding even that work better than its 
 own. We have to thank Providence for Ireland as it 
 is, and it is no small encouragement to those who des- 
 pair of the improvements they have set their hearts 
 upon, that they little know the vast openings and op- 
 portunities that any day may bring. 
 
 M.vcBiitcii Arrested im Frasce. — The French 
 authorities have not yet forgotten the affair of Dr. 
 Bernard and the attempted assassination of the Em- 
 peror in January last. An Irish gentleman who, un- 
 fortunately for himself, possesses the Christian name 
 of Bernard, and who has been domiciled for some lit- 
 tle time in Brittany, was arrested the other day in the 
 lawful discharge of his avocations, and committed to 
 prison, simply because one of his names happened to 
 be Bernard. The gentlemen to whom I refer is Mr. 
 William Bernard M'Cabe, the author of the ' Catholic 
 History of England,' and very well known upon the 
 London and Dublin press. Mr. M'Cabe, it appears, 
 is one of the ' own correspondents ' of the London 
 Morning Post, and in that capacity, assisted by the ac- 
 complished Paris correspondent of the aristocratic 
 journal, visited Cherbourg to describe the fete, and pay 
 his respects to the Enii)eror, to whom he is personally 
 known. Mr. M'Cabe was allowed to ' circulate ' about 
 undisturbed, until at length the mayor of some little 
 town fancied he smelt a rat, and having in his mind's 
 eye visions of the decoration of the Legion of Honor, 
 and other distinctions, caused Mr. M'Cabe to he arrest- 
 ed, simply because his name was William Bernard 
 M'Cabe. He was accordingly taken (at his own ex- 
 pense) to the nearest jail, some miles distant, and in- 
 carcerated until furtlicr orders. The legal functionary 
 of the district was tlun sent for, who declared thcafi'air 
 to be a mistake, as B.:rnard was not the sirnamc of 
 the prisoner, but M'Cabe, and that, said he, ' is evi- 
 dently some English name, which nobo ly can under- 
 stand.' He, however, declared that Mr. M'Cabe's pass- 
 port was not regular, because it was not sealed ! So 
 foreign pas-ports are sealed, so that the whole proceed- 
 ing was grossly illegal, tyrannical, and nnjast. Mr. 
 M'Cabe was permitted to retarn home afier a deten- 
 tion of several hours, if not days ; but no apology was 
 off"ercd; neither was he refunded the amount which he 
 was compelled to disburse for a conveyance to jail, and 
 for the pay and maintenance of two gendarmes to ar- 
 rest him. This was certainly adding injury to insult. 
 [Freeman Correspondent. 
 
 HOIIHIBLH CllUELXr TO AN ENCILlgR WoMAN. — 
 
 This it will be seen is a piece of the mobbing out busi- 
 ness. The woman had been the wife of an Irishman, 
 and therefore she was hunted out of Egland when a he 
 became destitue . — 
 
 A resp.'ctable looking and modest young woman, 
 accompanied with a child, presented herself at the bar 
 of the Cork police office, and made the following state- 
 ment : — Her name is Susan Dunne, and she is the 
 widow of an Irish cooper named Joseph Dunno, who 
 had been in England from his infancy until his death, 
 about two years ago; she is a dressmaker by trade, 
 and by birth an Englishwoman, having been born in 
 St. George's in the East, and lived there from her in- 
 fancy ; her husband was a Cork man ; after his death 
 she supported herself by working at her trade of dress- 
 making, until she got a rheumatic fever, which com- 
 pelled her to apply for relief at St. George's in the 
 East ; upon her recovery she desired to leave the work- 
 house hospital, and go out to work at her trade as be- 
 fore, but the guardians would not permit her ; she was 
 forcibly brought before a magistrate (she thinks Mr. 
 Yard ley) and made to depose to her deceased hus- 
 band's parish, which, as she had heard from him, was 
 Cork ; she objected to be sent to Cork, stating that 
 she was a native of England, and had no business 
 whatever in this city ; despite her remonstrance, she 
 was forcibly removed on board the steamer Adler, and 
 landed at Cork on the following evening ; she was 
 provided with five shillings, and 'consigned' to the 
 care of a man named Fitzgerald in Lcitram street, on 
 whom she had an order for two night's bdging; she 
 desired to be sent back to London again, as she was 
 very well able to support herself at her trade, and had 
 no business whatever in this town, where she was a 
 total stranger, her husband having left it in his in- 
 fancy. 
 
 Mr. Tooker — Your case is a very gross one, and I 
 would advise you to go into the work-house here for a 
 day or two, to enable the guardians to take it into their 
 consideration, and bring it under the notice of the pro- 
 per authorities. 
 
 Applicant said she had a claim for another nijzht's 
 lodging on Fitzgerald, and had part of the five shil- 
 lings with which she was provided in her possession, 
 and that she would prefer staying at the lodgings to 
 going into the work-house. The magistrate then direct- 
 ed her to stand aside til 1 he should take her case into con- 
 sideratfon, with a view to sending her back to London. 
 
 Applicant, who fpeaks with an English accent, 
 which lefi no doubt of the |)lace of her birth, is a young 
 woman of great propriety of deportment, and evident- 
 ly a respectable person in every way, but having been 
 the wife of an Irishman, she came in for her share of 
 the injustice systematically inflicted on the country 
 which gave him birth, but never had the benefit of his 
 industry. — [Cork Ueporterr. 
 
 E.MIGRATION TO AcsTRALn. — The John and Lucy 
 sailed from Birkenhead for Melbourne on Monday 
 last with four hundred government free emigrants, 
 the majority of whom are Catholics. They are ac- 
 companied by the Rev. Mr. Dunne as their chnplain, 
 who has volunteered his services in order to initiate a 
 step ^vl]ich would do more to promote emigration from 
 Ireland to Australia than all the promises which the 
 government could hold out. It is hoped the Aus- 
 tralian government will see the necessity of regularly 
 appointing chaplains on board their emigrnnt ships if 
 they wish to draw a virtuous and useful population to 
 their shores. The Kev. Mr. Dunne intends, we be- 
 live, to return to his native land as soon as he delivers 
 up his charge. — | English paper. 
 
 Fat Men, Attention ! — The editor of the Ohio 
 Cultivator, whom we thus judge to be fond of huge 
 jokes, proposes in good faith to bestow a premium of 
 a broadsword to the heaviest man who makes his ap- 
 pearance at the approaching Ohio State Fair. Each 
 competitor will be equipped with fan and handkerchief, 
 and, after being proved upon the scales, will parade as 
 the 'Falstaff Guards.' The prize is open to the world. 
 
 I 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 93 
 
 FOREIGN INTELLIGENCE. 
 
 IltKLAND. 
 
 Dn. Cahii.l in Yougiial — In addition to the 
 plciisure which iho rcyatta atVoidcd, the inlmbitnnts 
 ofYouf;hal haw, during the past wtck, bten highly 
 interested and instructid hy a series of srientifie lec- 
 tures delivered in the Mull Ilonse by Dr. Cahill. The 
 first of this course of lecture- was delivered at eif;ht 
 o'clock on MoLday evening before a crowded audience, 
 principally composed of the elite of Youghal. The 
 subject was ' Astronomy.' After some hriet introduc- 
 tory remarks, and a simple, yet forcible description of 
 the h\ws of the planets, the solar system, and the at- 
 traction of gravitation, he proceeded to illustrate bow 
 the sun had its orbit, and how, instead of being in tlje 
 centre of the system, as was generally supposed, it was 
 distant .'iOO.OOO miles from it. By this position, the 
 sun counterpoised the rest of the planets, which, if 
 centrally situated, it would not have succeeded in ef- 
 fecting. The learned lecturer then dwelt, at consider- 
 able length, upon the planetary changes and the effects 
 produced bp them, desciibing each topic so lucidly as 
 to render it intelligible to the most juvenile or least 
 mentally endowed of his auditors. The delivery of 
 the lecture nearly occupied two hours, and at its con- 
 clusion the reverend gentleman was warmly applauded. 
 The second lecture was delivered on Tuesday evening, 
 the subject being the ' Tides.' It was, if possible, 
 more fashionably and numerously attended than the 
 preceding one. Tt.e learned lecturer described the 
 composition of water, and, in speaking of the onimal- 
 cula to he found in it, observed, as a consolatory cir- 
 cumstance, that the ' drink divine ' was endued with 
 the power of destroying any quantity of them. After 
 the lecturer had described the action of the sun and 
 moon on tides, he related how, from personal abserva- 
 tions he had made on the latter planet, he discovered 
 that there were no clouds in it, consequently no water, 
 and, as a necessary result, no vegitation and no in- 
 habitants. During the course of his lecture, he re- 
 ferred to that well discussed subject, 'the state of the 
 Thames,' and expressed his opinion that the city of 
 London could not be purified of its inodorous vapors, 
 in consequence of its being situated at such a distance 
 from the sea as to render it impossible for the tidal 
 current to reach it and cleanse the river. The gifted 
 lecturer was repeatedly interrupted in the delivery of 
 his discourse by well deserved plaudits. He is to give 
 a course of lectures this week in Cloyne, and we 
 promise our fiiends there a rare intellectual treat, 
 which they should not fail to avail of. — [Cork Ex- 
 aminer. 
 
 Cardinal Wiseman in Ballinasloe. — A prince 
 of the church has come amongst us, and he has got a 
 prince's welcome; and more than that, for no scion of 
 that royaitVjWhose glories are of this world, and whose 
 power lies in fleets and armies, could awaken in the 
 hearts of his subjects that glowing love and glad en- 
 thusiasm with which this dignitary of a religion long 
 proscribed, but never abandoned, long persecuted but 
 ever cherished, and very long, and even yet, a bar and 
 a disqualification to its followers, has been received in 
 Ireland. No earthly potentate beholds that enlight- 
 ened reverence or hears that unbought cheering which 
 have greeted the appearance of his eminence amongst 
 us, and which go with him like an atmosphere. 
 This is no more than we expected, yet our gladness 
 is not abated by our want of a surprise at the splendid 
 demonstration of popular respect and affection for his 
 eminence and his exalted position in the church which 
 has taken place in that good old town in the very heart 
 of Catholic Ireland. The scene on Tuesday evening 
 was splendid and inspiring. Thousands upon thous- 
 ands of the Irish people rent the air with their accla- 
 mations, and blight green boughs, more emblematic 
 of the country, were waved to and fro — and again 
 there was a hush, and the people were motionless upon 
 their knees, and all was silent save one voice that only 
 spoke a blessing ! And when night fell, the brilliant 
 illumination of the whole town betokened well the 
 peaceful delight of the immense crowds assembled 
 to honor the occasion. On Wednesday the cere- 
 
 I mony of the consecration of the new church was 
 
 ! gone through with great solemnity and splendor. 
 
 i The spacious building was thronged with a con- 
 gregation assembled from all parts of Ireland, 
 and representing all classes. The consecration 
 was performed by the venerated bishop of the diocess, 
 assisted by his clergy; the High Mass was cekbrated 
 by His Grace the Archbishop of Tuam, and the ser- 
 mon preached by his eminence the Cardinal Arch- 
 bishop of Westminster. Happily suited to the place 
 and the occasion, it thrilled every heart, awaking at 
 once, and in perfect harmony, the deepest chords of 
 national feeling, and the highest tones of religious de- 
 votion. — [Irish paper. 
 
 I Sailing of the Pacific from Galwat. — Again, 
 punctual in every way, Mr. Lever's steamer Pacific 
 has departed for Halifax and New York, full of pas- 
 sengers and goods, and with the mail bags for British 
 America and the United States. The passengers of 
 all classes were highly satisfied with the arrangements 
 and berths provided for them. Many of the passen- 
 gers were Americans. In the evening the Bishop of 
 Galway, accompanied by many of his clergy, visited 
 the Pacific, and thoroughly inspected her. They all 
 expressed their admiration of her highly fiaished 
 saloons, and the accommodation provided for all 
 classes, particularly the third. His lordship was so 
 much gratified with what he saw and heard, that he 
 piomised to use every means in his power to promote 
 the Galway route for those who purposed to emigrate 
 to British America and the United Slates, or back, as 
 a matter of national duty, and thereby advance the 
 prosperity of Ireland. Cardinal Wiseman was fully 
 expected to visit the Pacific before her departure, and 
 would have done so could he possibly — having regard 
 to his other duties — have arrived in time. At three 
 o'clock Mr Lever received a telegram announcing that 
 his eminence would not arrive in time. — [Cor. Freeman. 
 
 The Dublin Police Bill Again. — The London 
 correspondent of the Post says: — 'The members of the 
 Irish government, with the approval o'' Lord Eglin- 
 ton, have applied for and obtained the sanction of the 
 government to prepare for the reproduction of the 
 Dublin Police Bill of last session, and to obtain all 
 returns and statistics that may be considered necessa- 
 sary by the promoters of that bill for the destruction 
 of the police force, on the pretence that it contains too 
 large a portion of Catholics. The bill is to be brought 
 forward ugain at the opening of the next session; and 
 the whole strength and power of the government will 
 be put in requisition to carry it through. Indeed, my 
 informant assures me that some returns have already 
 been called for in Dublin, connected with the renewed 
 movement.' 
 
 Direct Trade WITH America — We are happy 
 to report that our local manufacturers are beginning 
 to enourage direct shipments of goods from Ireland to 
 the United States. Messrs. Charley and Malcolm, 
 the respectable and active agents for the new line, 
 have forwarded the following goods from thts port for 
 shipment in the Pacific steamer. Captain Thompson, 
 from Galway for New York, 24th August:— Linen 
 thread, 10 boxes, 6,. '330lbs., value ^400; sewed mus- 
 lins, 7 boxes, .£100; linens, 49 boxes, .39,066 yards, 
 value £3,.'i09; linen handherchiefs, 24 boxes, 6,688 
 dozen, value £2,280; and 82 first, second, and third 
 class passengers. — [Belfast Mercantile Journal. 
 
 On Wednesday evening, the 17th August, about 
 sunset, a curious atmospheric phenemenon resembling 
 that known in Germany as ' the spirit of the Brocken,' 
 
 presented itself to those who happened to be on the ca- 
 nal walk below the first seat, opposite the college lawn. 
 The clouds were broken with flying showers, and a 
 sudden burst projected a gigantic imago or reflection 
 of the steeple and spire of St. Mary's Church against a 
 cloud. The image was dark and well-defined, and 
 lasted for the space of about five minates, when i 
 vanished. The sun was setting at the time, and there 
 was a sheet of mist falling between that luminary and 
 the object reflected. The image wa.s about the height 
 of itself above the spire. — [Kilkenny Moderator. 
 
 Linen Trade. — The symptoms of revival in the 
 various branches of the linen trade, we are happy to 
 say, become every day more decided, with an upward 
 tendency for nearly all classes of goods. At Bally- 
 mena, on Saturday, the supply was very fair for the 
 season, buying being bri-k at late rates. The Armagh 
 market on Tuesday was also fairly supplied ; demand, 
 however, was not so active for the jiast few markets. 
 The supply at Lurgan is very small, w iihout alteration 
 in prices. Linen Yarn — Tows continues in active 
 demand, as do also the lower numbers of linen. Stocks 
 of all kinds very moderate. — [Belfast Mercury. 
 
 We are informed by a correspondent that Guy 
 Lloyd, Esq., Grogban, has called on all his tenant- 
 ry to take leases of their holdings for twenty-one 
 years. Such a procedure, strangely at variance with 
 the 'mopping out' being practiced by a great num- 
 ber of the landlords of the country, reflects the 
 greatest credit on Mr. Lloyd, as a Christian and a 
 landlord. We heartily wish that others would fol- 
 low the example so nobly set them, and afford to 
 the tenantry the protection which is denied them 
 by the British legislation. 
 
 DoNNETBROOK — Sunday, being what is called 
 ' Walking Sunday,' over 20,000 persons visited the 
 scene of the celebrated f.iir. A few tents were erected 
 in the vicinity. of ' the green' for the sale of refresh- 
 ments. The crowd was most orderly, and the police 
 arrangements prevented any confusioil arising in the 
 ordinary carriage thoroughfare. 
 
 FRANCE. 
 
 The Paris 'Presse' enumerates its recent grounds of 
 complaint against England. It says : 
 
 'She found us good to take Sebastopol ; she then 
 greatly appreciated the services of our fleets and 
 armies; but, peace signed, by what concession did she 
 recognize this co-operationi She deserted our alliance 
 for that of Austria; she sacrified to her new friend the 
 union of the principaliites, which she had herself de- 
 manded; she opposes at Constantinople the cutting of 
 the isthmus of Suez, required in the interest of the 
 whole world; in profound peace she takes possession 
 of the island of Perim, in order to find herself in a 
 position to command the Red Sea, when the day shall 
 arrive on which she can no longer prevent its being 
 opened. She had as ambassador to Constantinople a 
 declared enemy to France, haughty, whimsical, and 
 passionate, combining in supreme perfection all the 
 tdults of the English character, crowned by an avowed 
 hatred of our country. While the blood of our soldiers 
 flowed at Inkermann to save the English army, Lord 
 Stratford, at Constantinople, worked against us, and 
 now, after an absence of some months, he is sent back 
 to Turkey to continue the same manceuvrcs. Hon- 
 estly speaking, is that the conduct of an ally or an 
 enemy? If England thinks she has need of the alli- 
 ance, let her change her tone and conduct; tlie time 
 has passed when Lord Melbourne could threaten, in 
 open Parliament, to sweep our fleets from the Mediter- 
 ranean. Since then, France has risen and England 
 has descended. Other relations and other conduct are 
 required.' 
 
 AUSTRIA . 
 
 The Cologne Gazette sa3-3: — 'During the late milita- 
 ry manoeuvres at the Camp of Neunkirchen, near 
 Vienna, an incident took place, the motives of which 
 have not yet been cleared up. The Hungarian Regi- 
 ment Don Miguel fired hall cartridges at a German 
 regiment drawn up in front of it, killing three men 
 and seriously wounding eight others. 
 
 A private letter of the I4th ult., gives some explana- 
 tion of this aft'air. It appears that in an order of the 
 day lately published, General U^genleld praised the 
 good conduct of a regiment of infantry of Bohemia at 
 the expense of another regiment composed of Italians 
 and Hungarians. The latter are said to have been 
 much enraged at this circumstance, and did not hesi- 
 tate to revenge what they call an insult oflTcred to their 
 corps and the nationality. For want of halls, they 
 loaded their muskets with stone ; the result was, as 
 stated, that several men of the other regiment were 
 killed, and a greater number severely wounded. 
 
94 
 
 IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 Mh. Cuarles Dickkn9. — AVhcn you first step 
 into St. Murtiii'!« Uall, and you sec Mr. Dickens 
 trip lightly out of a side room, and skip on to the 
 platform, and place himself under a reflector so in- 
 geniously fixed in relation to a crowd of flaming 
 gas-jet that he stands in quite a flood of light, your 
 first internal exclamation is — Well, what a swell, to 
 be sure ! Of all dress coats the dressiest, with its 
 imposing collar and rosette fixed in one breast; most 
 immaculate of white vests, and formidable white 
 choker, that would infallibly make its wearer stick 
 fast in Temple Bar, were he trying to get through; 
 labor of the 'nobbiest' trouser maker fn London, 
 encasing those limbs, which describe exactly the 
 letter V inverted, as they now stand, (fixed in that 
 position, we afterwards perceive, for the night ;) 
 work of a dexterous coitfeur, that hircsuit show! 
 Its the old story. Haven't all the novelists been 
 swells? But he opens the book — done up, by the 
 way, in the same 'nobby' style as its author. All 
 the lights in the hoU are lowered, save those flaming 
 jets which shine on the reflector set over the nov- 
 elist's head. The audience are in gloom; the reader 
 is bathed in quite a golden flood of light. He, 
 truly, looks well. What an eye ! large, luminous, 
 piercing. Still, a hearty, open, English look about 
 that face, as we come to look longer at it, in spite 
 of the profuse beard, which, at the first glance, 
 gives a Continental feeling to it. He reads. A 
 voice rich, deep, and flexible, amply atoning by 
 fluent ease and rai>id varieiy of inflection for lack 
 of power. If it wants width of compass, it has a 
 command of all that is serviceable in rendering the 
 pathos and the humor blended so exquisitely in the 
 reader's stories. Those who have heard Mrs. Fan- 
 ny Kemble read a play of Shakspeare's may form 
 some idea of the flexibility of Mr. Dickens's voice as 
 well as of the flexibility of his face. The two move 
 in harmonious, because effortless, unison; a change 
 in the one is always accompanied by a correspond- 
 ing change in the other. As we look and listen, 
 we wonder at the singular combination of dramatic 
 and literary power. Mr. Dickens is the greatest 
 mimic and one of the greatest story-tellers of the 
 age. Mr. Dickens's dramatic power has only one 
 drawback. It is too perfect. Its very excellence 
 exposes all the deficiencies of the works which he 
 reads. His strength as a reader demonstrates his 
 weakness as a novelist. No deformity in the mat- 
 ter can escape detection, so perfect is the form in 
 which it is presented. The reading throws so 
 strong a light upon each picture in the book that, 
 if they are daubs — and many of them to deserve no 
 higher name — their imperfections are exposed to the 
 most listless ear. 
 
 Colonel Lewis and John Bvbne Again. — On 
 Friday, the 1.3th instant, the court house of Carrack- 
 macross presented a scene of excitement rarely wit- 
 nessed in that quiet locality, and excited an interest 
 rather unusual there. However, the circumstance of 
 Colonel Lewis and John Bryne again coming before 
 the public sufficiently accounted for the tact, and 
 amply repaid the audience for its attendance. On the 
 bench were Thomas Johnston, of Longfield, Esq., J. 
 P.; and Plunket Kenny, J. 1*. The collectors were 
 Mr. Swanzey for the gallant (!) colonel, and Mr. Gib- 
 son was concerned for poor, persecuted Byrne ; and 
 the charge against him whs, that on the morning of the 
 8th instant, four cows, two heifers, and a goat, the 
 property of Byrne, were found trespassing on a part 
 of the lands from which he was lately evicted. The 
 colonel's start", to sustain his cases, were two brothers 
 named John and Edward Clendenning, assisted by a 
 worthy named Roundtree, and the colonel's school- 
 master, who rejoiced in the old Milesian name of 
 O'Connor; each and every one of whom swore to find- 
 ing the catile on the sanctitied farm at the 'dead and 
 stilly' hour of two o'clock in the morning of the 8th 
 inst.; and Byrne's defence was that the cattle were 
 taken by Roundtree off" the present farm, which was ' 
 
 taken for him for his cattle, and which is situated in 
 county Armagh, and intentionally put on the waste 
 farm with the undoubted desire of lining him for tres- 
 pass. The swearing on each side was diametrically 
 opposite, Byrne distinctly maintaining that at or about 
 the hour stated he heard cows passing from the direc- 
 tion of his present farm past his door, and upon going 
 from his bed in pursuit, he recognized the two Clcn- 
 dennings and Roundtree, each armed with a gun, and 
 having cattle on the waste farm, from wljich ho was 
 recently evicted; and upon liis asking who had re- 
 moved his cows, that trespass was demanded. Byrne 
 also stated that he had on the same morning called at 
 the police station and communicated the fact to the 
 men. The magistrates staled that so contradictory 
 swearing ihej bad never lieurd; but that on due con- 
 sideration they came to the conclusion of dismissing 
 the case, a decision which appeared to have at least 
 justice on its side. The colonel has summoned a good 
 many others from the same locality, but the cases wore 
 of no public interest. Byrne's trial lasted for up- 
 wards of two hours. 
 
 Anicdote of Locis Napoleon. — The following 
 anecdote is related by the Paris correspondent of one 
 of the New York journals, as having occurred soon 
 after the Crimean war: 
 
 The emperor is without doubt an eccentric man, 
 but eccentric in the most agreeable manner; for, by his 
 universal philanthropy, he has removed the time-hon- 
 ored impression from the public mind, that benevo- 
 lence, urbanity and wisdom were incompatible with 
 the title of sovereign, which so often is but another 
 name for tyranny, hastiness and imbecility. The last 
 little story, or rather truth, which is told of him is, 
 that in years past, when he was in the days of his sur- 
 veillance and adversity, a soldier had it in his power 
 to insult, mortify and degrade him. However, time 
 rolled on and released him, not only from the hands of 
 his brutal enemy, bat placed him on the throne of 
 France. In the meantime, the soldier had gone to 
 the Crimea, and there showed sufficient bravery to 
 warrant his name being put on the list as a candidate 
 for the medal. This list was, of course, submitted to 
 the emperor, and, when he recognized the name of his 
 former tormentor, he directed that he should be brought 
 before him. 
 
 The man approached, not without fear and hesita- 
 tion, for he, as well as the emperor, had not forgotten 
 what had taken place. ' Well,' said the emperor, ' do 
 you remember when I was in your care how you treat- 
 ed nic ?' The soldier bowed, al)asbed. ' Very well,' 
 continued his majesty, ' your name is on the list; tell 
 me, if our situations were once more reversed, would 
 you forget and forgive the past ■? What would be 
 your object in summoning me as I have done you — 
 with reproaches or a punishment even more cruel than 
 that V ' Your raajusty,' replied the man, ' I cannot 
 hope for your forgiveness, and were our situations re- 
 versed, I do not think I could grant pardon, and, 
 therefore, do not expect from another that which I 
 could not accord myself. You have doubtless sum- 
 moned me before you to overwhelm me with disgrace. 
 But I beseech you, sire, to remember I only did my 
 duty.' 'And not on that occasion only did you per- 
 form your duty,' rejoined his majesty, ' for you have 
 acted bravely during the war, and I have sent for you 
 that I might place this medal with my own hands upon 
 your breast. Never shall it he said that Louis Napo- 
 leon permitted personal feeling to withhold a well 
 earned reward from a brave soldier.' 
 
 Pbbrt's Flao Ship. — Capt. Norman, of Erie, is 
 raising the remains of the flag ship Lawrence, of Com- 
 modore Perry's fleet. A large portion of the hull has 
 been taken up. The timber is in good condition, not- 
 withstanding the fact that it has laiu in the water for 
 a long series of years. Some of the planks and heavy 
 timbers bear the murks of cannon balls, and arc con- 
 siderably shattered. The timber will be sold at the 
 Periy celebration at Put-in Bay, on the lOih inst., for , 
 the benefit of the Perry monument fund. I 
 
 VARIOUS ITEMS. 
 
 During the attack of the English and French fleets 
 on the Chinese forts at the mouth of the Pi-Ho river, 
 as an English purser was coming on deck from below, 
 a round shot took ofT his hat in a most unceremonious 
 manner. 'Hillo!' ho exclaimed. ' that was a close 
 shave ! ' and the next moment he fell dead. The con- 
 cussion of the atmospherj had destroyed his hold on 
 life, it seems, and yet left him time to make the cx- 
 clamition. Similar instances to the cffeet of what is 
 termed the wind of a ball have been recorded. 
 
 Montelambert, in a recent essay, says : — ' The crav- 
 ing for public olhce is one of the worst of social mala- 
 dies. It spreads through the entire nation a venal 
 and a servile humor, which by no means excludes the 
 spirit of faeiion and love of anarchy. It creates a 
 crowd of hungry beings capable of the utmost fury to 
 assuage their appetites, and ready for any business 
 when the appetites have been appeased. A people of 
 place-hunters is the most worthlessof all populations." 
 
 A Hanover paper tells the world that the ' silly pre- 
 judices against liorse flesh ' has altogether vanished in 
 Denmark and Northern Germany, and that in the city 
 of Hanover alone, in the course of Whitsunweek, about 
 two thousand pound of horse flesh were consumed. 
 The number of horses slaughtered for eating in that 
 city is between two and three thousand a year. 
 
 Mr. and Mrs. Barney Williams closed their Lon- 
 don engagement on July 31, and preceeded to Rissin - 
 gen, in Bavaria, on a tour of health. They were to 
 return to London about the middle of September to 
 open the new Adelphi. They have been in England 
 twenty-five months, and have pltiyed twenty-seven 
 successful engagements. 
 
 'Come here my little Eddy,' said a gentleman to a 
 youngster of seven years of age, while sitting in the 
 parlor, where a large company was assembled ; ' do 
 you know me ? ' 'Yes, sir, I think I do." ' Who 
 am I then ? ' let me hear.' You ara the man who 
 kissed sister Angeline last night in the parlor. An- 
 gellne fainted. 
 
 General Lee once found Dr. Cutting, the army sur- 
 geon, who was a handsome and dressy man, arranging 
 his cravat complacently before the glass. ' Cutting,' 
 said he, ' you must be the happiest man in creation.' 
 ' Why, General ? ' Lee replied, ' Because you are in 
 love with yourself, and have not a rival on the earth.' 
 
 The British government have under consideration 
 an application to send two Irish scholars to the ruins 
 of Carthage, to examine whether any remaining in- 
 scriptions there can be identified with the Irish lan- 
 guage, as there is so much reason to believe that the 
 Phcenicians spoke the language of the Gael. 
 
 A vendor of cement, describing its action, said it 
 was particularly useful in mending jars. A witty 
 purchaser asked him if would mend the jar of a door. 
 ' There is no occasion for its use in that case, said the 
 pedlar, ' for that is generally sound enough.' 
 
 \^ HAT Not ? — A duel was fought in Mississippi 
 last month by S. K. Knoot and A. W. Shott. The 
 result was, Knott was shot, and Shott was not. In 
 those circumstances, we should rather been Shott than 
 Nott. 
 
 The Dublin correspondent of the Times says : — 
 ' The eldest son of the late Maurice 0'Connell, and 
 the heir to the residue of the Derrynane estate, 
 is serving his time to an English architect.' 
 
 'Will you have the kindness to hand mo the butter 
 before youl ' said a gentleman politely to an ancient 
 maiden. ' I am no waiter, sir.' ' Well, I think jou 
 have been waiting a long time.' 
 
 It is stated that within the last three months no less 
 than four thousand clerks have left New York for want 
 of employment. 
 
 There are more lies told in the brief sentence ' lam 
 glad to see you," than in any other single sentence in 
 the English language. 
 
 Why is a bar-room like a pump ? Because it is 
 rarely without two suckers. 
 
 Why is a creditor like the grass ? Because he looks 
 better after he gets his dues. 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 96 
 
 SUBSCRIBE! SUBSCRIBE! SUBSCRIBE! 
 
 THB IRISH MISCELLANY 
 
 Inducements to New Subscribers. 
 
 OUR NEW VOLUME. 
 
 Hnviiig tnvornbly commenced tlic second volume of our 
 publication, wo seize the occasion lor the purpose of ten- 
 dering thanks to those of our friends who have so generous- 
 ly contributed to our support. To start, and successfully 
 carry on an ordinary newspaper, so that it will, in a rea- 
 sonable space of time, become remunerative to its proprie- 
 tors, is ft task not easily accomplished, and which consum- 
 matiou does not generally happen in one case out ol a hun- 
 dred. Our enterprise, being of a nature entirely ditfereut 
 from that of any other Irish paper heretofore established 
 in this country— requiring a much greater expenditure of 
 capital and artistic talent— caneed us serious misgivings, 
 and a constant fear that it would not meet the desires and 
 expectations of our patrons. How far oureflbrts have been 
 suecessful, is for them to decide; but we trust that it will 
 not be considered egotistical on our part when we assert 
 that the Miscellany has far exceeded the most sanguine ex- 
 pectations of paptial friends, and that even those who have 
 been enemies from the start have made suitable acknowl- 
 edgment of its merit. 
 
 Since we have had the control of the Miscellany our way 
 has not been— 
 
 'The primrose path of dalliance ' 
 
 TVe have been beset by obstacles innumerable; but having 
 a strong conlidence in our ultimate success, we were deter- 
 mined to surmount all barriers, and though we have not, 
 as yet, brought the paper to that pitch of perfection which 
 is our desire, we trust soon to make it as acceptable as is 
 possible to our readers. 
 
 In beginning a new volume, we introduce various inno- 
 vations, tending to the improvement of the paper, in 
 every way that is possible. We shall give each week, an 
 epitome of Irish news— not the hacknied local quotations 
 which interest only the few, but extracts from the leading 
 journals, which will be gratifying to the many. lu this 
 respect, we will not be following in the steps of any of our 
 contemporaries, but, on the contrary, will be striking out 
 a path eminently our own. It will also be our aim to give 
 the best class of wood engravings which can be procured, 
 portraying national subjects, and, as our outlay in this re- 
 spect will be infinitely larger than that of any Irish journal 
 published in this country, we look for a commensurate re- 
 turn. In short, it is our intention to make the paper meet 
 the requirements of all classes of readers. 
 
 As an inducement, therefore, to new subscribers, we offer 
 to each person who will pay one years' subscription in ad- 
 vance, commencing with the first number of the first 
 volume, (not the second, as inadvertantly stated in previous 
 numbers,) directly to us or through any of our authorized 
 local or travelling agents, a copy of our firbt Gift Picture, 
 representing Sarstield's Surprise of the Seige Train of the 
 Prince of Orange. When completed, each volume of the 
 Miscellany will form a book of four hundred and six- 
 teen (416) pages, and will alone be worth the price of an 
 entire year's subscription. The same inducements are ofier- 
 ad to clubs, as to single subscribers. 
 
 CLUBS! CLUBS!! CLUBS!!! 
 
 There is no town or village so small, but a, club of six or 
 more subscribers for the Irish Miscellany can be easily ob- 
 tained. Will those of our friends who are well-wishers oi 
 the land of their birth, do us the favor of getting up Clubs. 
 Our terms will be — 
 To a club of six persons sent to one address, $10,00 
 
 To a club of twelve, 19.00 
 
 The whole of the money must invariably be sent at one 
 remittance, and in advance. 
 
 In addition to this great reduction of price, each member 
 of a Club will be entitled to copies of all our splendid Gift 
 Pictures. Let our friends exert themselves, and by their 
 patronage make the Miscellany the foremost Irish journa 
 on this continent. 
 
 TRAVELLING AGENTS WANTED. 
 
 We have determined to appoint a number of Travelling 
 Agents, to travel in the various States of theUnionand 
 canvass for subscribers for this paper We do this at the 
 earnest request of many warm friends, who think we do 
 not take the requisite steps to make the paper known as ex- 
 tensively as it ought to be. 
 
 Persons desirous of becoming Travelling Agents, who 
 can be well recommended, are requested to apply at our 
 office forthwith. None but faithful, reliable men need ap- 
 ply. To such a liberal commission will be allowed. Apply 
 at ourPublication Office, 4 Water street, Boston. 
 
 Back Nustders of the Miscellany, from the commence- 
 ment of the paper, maybe procured through any of our 
 regular agents, or by sending direct to the office of publi- 
 cation. No. 4 Water street, Boston. Will our iricnds in 
 want bear this fact in mind? 
 
 ADVEBTISEMENTS. 
 
 W. J. HENNESSY, 
 ARTIST, 
 
 No. 37 FKANKLIN STUEET. 
 
 NEW YORE CITY. 
 
 FRANCIS GODFREY, 
 
 IMPORTER AND RESTORER OF 
 
 ITALIAN PAINTINGS, 
 
 AND MANUFACTURER OF GILT F AMES, 
 
 12 FHANKLIN StKEET, BoSTON. 
 
 IC?" Engravings, Lithographs, Crayo 
 
 Sm 
 
 &c., on sale 
 aug28 
 
 MERCANTILE AND WRITING SCHOOL, 
 
 E. J. GLEESON, Master. 
 
 This School is now opened at No. 23 Portland Street, 
 a few doors south of Dooley's Exchange Hotel, where a 
 select and limited number of the Youth of both sexes will 
 be admitted; time from 9 A. M. to 12 M., and from 2 P. M 
 to 5 P.M. 
 
 TERMS MODERA TE. 
 
 EVENING SCHOOL! 
 
 This school will be opened in the same place on the first 
 evening of next month, where adults and those of riper 
 years, will be carefully and assiduously instructed in the 
 various branches of learning, suitable to their calling. 
 
 BOOK-KEEPING : 
 
 Mr. Gleeson ventures to say, and pledges himself without 
 hesitation, that he will qualify young gentlemen for the 
 Counting Room, in half the time that is consumed in simi- 
 lar institutions in this city, and at considerable less ex- 
 pense. 
 
 August 17th, 1858. aug28 
 
 FINE READY MADE CLOTHING 
 
 CUSTOM TAILORING. 
 
 SPRING OVERCOATS, 
 
 BUSINESS COATS, 
 
 FROCK AND DRESS COATS, 
 
 . PANTS AND VESTS, 
 Good, Stylish, Well Made Garments, 
 Such as men of taste and good judgment will wear, can at 
 all times be found at our store. 
 Our aim is to produce for our customers the best Ready 
 Made Garments at the lowest possible prices for 
 CASH. 
 
 Readers of this Journal are earnestly solicited to exam- 
 ine our goods before purchasing. 
 
 J W. SMITH & CO., 
 
 Dock Square, corner Elm Street. 
 my 11 tf 
 
 GENERAL TICKET OFFICE 
 
 — FOR THE — 
 
 S O UTHERN AND W E S T E R I^ STATES 
 
 AND 
 
 THE CANADAS, 
 No. 2 Albany Street, Boston. 
 
 EDWARD RYAN, Agent. 
 
 N. B. — Passage to and from Liverpool, and Bills of Ex- 
 change on England, Ireland and Scotland. 
 
 ap24 ly 
 
 NORTHERN HOUSE, 
 
 NORTH SQUARE— BOSTON. 
 
 JOHN GLANCY Proprietor. 
 
 This Houpe has rooms equal to any first class Hotel, and 
 permanent or tranKient Boarders can be nccommodatod 
 nearly one half cheaper than at any other Houtie in the 
 City. 
 
 In the Reading Room can be found all the morning and 
 evening papers, and periodicals of the day, together with 
 an extensive Library, for the fVee and exclusive use oi 
 the Boarders. 
 
 N. B. Strangers visiting Boston, can always find this 
 
 Ho 
 
 Ho; 
 
 (ULMORE'S SALEM QUADRILLE BAND. E. UP- 
 TTON, Jr., Prompter. Apply to P. S. GlLMORE. Es- 
 PCX House, Salem, Mass. 8r ' 
 
 feilS 
 
 ADVERTISEMENTS. 
 
 THE IRISH VINDICATOR, 
 
 A WEEKLY NEWSPAPER, 
 The Best and Cueai'est Published in America. 
 
 THIS splendid Paper, which is little over nine months 
 in existence, has met with the 
 
 MOST WONDERFUL SUCCESS, 
 
 and has been pronounced by the Press and the Public to b© 
 superior to any other Irish Weekly in the United States. 
 
 It contains each week, the very 
 
 Latest News from every County in Ireland ; 
 
 Original and eutertaiuing 
 
 STORIES AND ANECDOTES, 
 
 and a variety of Miscellaneous Reading matter, of a charac- 
 ter which cannot fail to elevate and chasten the intel- 
 lectual appetite. The Irish Vindicator is devoted 
 
 TO THE INTERESTS OF IRISHMEN IN AMERICA, 
 
 and is so cheap as to be within the reach of the poorest. 
 
 ONLY THREE CENTS A COPT. 
 
 the following- are the terms 
 
 To any part of the United States, for one year, $1.60 
 
 Do. do. do. for 8 months, 1.00 
 
 Do. do. do. for 4 mouths, 0.50 
 
 Do. do. do. fori month, 0.12 
 
 To any part of Canada or the British Provinces, one year, 
 
 ®2,00 — All payments in advance. 
 
 for advertising, 
 
 12 lines, single insertion Sl.OO I 12 lines, 1 month, S2.50 
 
 12 do. 3 months, 5-50 j 12 do. 1 year, 16-00 
 
 Published every week, at the Oflice, No 10 Spruce street, 
 
 New Y'ork, by the Proprietors. 
 
 THE SOUTHERN CITIZEN, 
 
 IS published weekly at Knoxville, Tennessee, by JOHN 
 MITCHELL & WM. G. SWAN, at $2 per annum, or 
 $1 for SIX months, payable invariably in advance. 
 
 Mr. Mitchell having commenced in the 28tb number of 
 the paper, a series of Letters addressed to the Hon. Alex- 
 ander H. Stephens of Georgia, which when completed will 
 furnish an entire history of 
 
 THE IRISH TROUBLES OF 1848, 
 
 With their Causes and Consequences, 
 
 The Southern Citizen will be the more interesting to both 
 American and Irish readers. Besides these contributions 
 from Mr. Mitchel, the Southern Citizen will continue to 
 have its usual quantity of original matter upon political 
 and literary subjects prepared by him. The circulation, 
 though large and constantly increasing, the proprietors 
 have thought will be much more extended by an announce- 
 ment in this form. 
 
 Communications with remittances may be addresedto 
 Mitchel & Swan, Knoxville, Tennessee, or to any of the 
 following Agents: 
 
 S G Courtenay & Co, Charleston, S C; Thomas B O'Con- 
 nor, Savannah, Ga; J C Morgan, New Orleans, La; Jas A 
 Gentry, Qichmond, Va; Alexander Adamson, Washington 
 city; Tallinage& Tunner, Cincinnati, O; PM Haverty, 110 
 Fulton street, N Y; S H Goutzel, 33 Dauphin street. Mobile 
 Ala; Benj B Davis, Masonic Building, Montgomery, Ala; 
 Ross & Toucey, 121 Nassau street. N V, supply dealers only 
 upon reasonable terms; James McGinn, lal Kearney street 
 San Francisco. 
 
 *#* Clubs of ten will be supplied with the paper for $15. 
 
 J.. & E. MURPHY, 
 
 MANUFACTURERS OF 
 
 SURGICAL AND DENTAL INSTRUME , 
 CUTLERY, 
 
 AND STEEL WORK OF EVERY KIND, 
 No. 3 HARVARD PLACE, (opposite the Old South.) 
 
 BOSTON, Mass. 
 Q:^Cutlery and Instruments of all kinds Repaired, 
 ly aug28 
 
 DO'ROURKE, respectfully informs his friends nnd the 
 . public, that he keeps constantly on hand COFFIXS 
 of all sizes and kinds, at his ColTin 'Manufactory, No. 347 
 Federal, between Beach and Kuceland Streets, Boston, 
 which he will sell as reasonable as cau be bought at any oth* 
 er place in the city. 
 
 N. B. — Orders punctually attended to. day or night. 
 
 Residence, No. 28 South street, Boston. 
 
 [0=-Urave-Clothe8 furnished to order at short notice. 
 
 febl3 
 
 PASSENGER CERTIFICATES.j 
 
 TO OLD COUNTRYMEN. Owen Mc Namara has 
 PassaRc Certificates and Drafts always on hand and 
 for sale. As lie does bnsines,s for that most respectable 
 house, (Williams & GuionI in New York. Old Countrymen 
 desirinff to send for their friends, or remit money, would 
 do well to give him a call at No. 4 (jORHAM St.." opposite 
 Summer St.. Lowell, Mass apSt; 
 
 BS. TREANOR. ATTORNEY and COUNSELLOR 
 • AT L.WV, 15 Mas^sachusetts Block, Court Square, 
 Boston. 
 
 (C7*Partioular attention paid to Conveyancing, and the 
 examination of titles of Real Estate. I'ebl3 
 
96 
 
 IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 COMPLIMENTARY DINNER TO THE OFFICERS 
 OF THE STEAMER 'PROPELLER.' 
 
 Last weuk, tlic lirsC of ii lint- uf stoiim>liipa between 
 Galway, Irclaiiil, and Boston and New York, arrived 
 at tills port, and the event was duly announced in the 
 pspcrs. Many of our Irish eiiizens, however, regard 
 the esiiiblishing of direet coinmunieutiou with IreUind 
 as an event uf eonsiderAlile importance, as it really is, 
 and determined to celebrate it by a banquet at the 
 Farker House, given in honor of Captain Thatcher 
 and his officers, of the steamer 'Propeller,' the pioneer 
 of the line. The dinner took place on Thursilay even- 
 ing, and was a highly successful affair, there being no 
 less than sixty persons present. 
 
 A few minutes past eight o'clock, the company sat 
 down to well-filled tables, presided over by Patrick 
 Donahoe, E>q., while on his right was C ipt. Thatch- 
 er, and on his left the other officers of t he st e amer. 
 ~ The large dining room^of the Parker House was 
 very tastily decorated with American, English and 
 Irish flags, and even a harp was not forgotten. 
 
 A few minutes before ten, Mr. Donahoe calhd the 
 company to order, and alluded to some of the advan- 
 tages which were likely to result from a direct commu- 
 nication with Ii-ebind. 
 
 The toast-master, Sirjeant O'Neil, read the first 
 regular toast, which was 'the President of the United 
 Statrs.' It was responded to by John 0. Crowley, 
 Esq., with his usual felicity. He welcomed Captain 
 Thatcher to Boston, and prophesied the most happy 
 results from the establishment of the new line ot 
 steamers. Ue thought that IrLlanii.with her great ad- 
 vantages for trans-Atlantic enterprises, would yet ful- 
 fil her mission, in defiance of bigoted legislation. 
 
 The next regular toast was: — 'Captain Thatcher and 
 the Officers of the steamer Propeller. Our knowledge 
 of them, though recent, jet acquired by personal inter- 
 course and information gained from passengers on her 
 first trip to this country, satisfies us that they are pre- 
 eminently adapted to their positions. As the pioneers 
 of a new era in the commercial enterprise of the old 
 land, we hope often to hail their presence among us 
 with delight.' 
 
 Capt. Thatcher was greeted with cheers when he 
 arose to respond. He said that 'he wished the task 
 had fallen to some other person to acknowledge the 
 hospitality and kindness which he had received from 
 the citizens of Boston, and especiKlly the Irish portion. 
 He said that the proprietors of the steamers were 
 wealthy men, and were dctermiind to put the best 
 steamers upon the line that ever could be produced. 
 He felt prouder of the little hooker which he had 
 biouglit over than if she were a splemlid steamer. He 
 concluded by slating that the Board of Trade of Bos- 
 ton entertained the most favorable opinions respecting 
 the project of establi.^hing steam between Galway and 
 Boston. 
 
 Mr. Ambrose A. Thayer then sang an original song, 
 which was warmly ap^jlauded. 
 
 Captain Thatcher bejigtd to propose a toast, which 
 was drank standing: — 
 
 'The sons cf Ireland, wherever they are.' 
 The next regular toast was the 'City of Boston,' and 
 it was responded to by B. S. Treanor, Esq., the vice 
 president. Ue didn't like the action of the city coun- 
 cil in not receiving Capt. Thatcher and officers with 
 appropriate honors, in honor of the prospect of u new 
 line of steamcis. If the city has neglected the pleas- 
 ure, the Irish citizens have not, and he was glad to be 
 present to help honor the occasion. 
 
 The next toast waf: 'John Orrell Lever, the founder 
 of the Galway line of >tiamcrs.' 
 
 Mr. T. J. Jones was called upon to respond, but he 
 declined in favor of Capt. Thatcher, who pledged his 
 word to bring Mr Lever to Boston the next trip, even 
 if he had to 'bag him.' 
 
 Other toasts were given and re-ponded to by Mr. 
 John Spottiswoode. Sergeant O'Ncil, and Mr. Hyan. 
 While Mr. O'Neil was speaking in response to a toast 
 complimentary to Father Peter Daley, of Ireland, he 
 Slated that a huge cane, made of hickory and suitably 
 inscribed, was to be placed in Captain Thatcher's 
 
 hands to be carried to the good priest, a present from 
 the Sergeant. 
 
 The evening was passed quite pleasantly, and the 
 company did not separate until a late hour. 
 
 The 0.vi.w\v Line of Sti'.ami;ks. — The advant- 
 ages claimed in favor of this line of steamers are — 
 that Galway possesses unrivalled natural advanta- 
 ges as a packet station for the transmis.sion of mails 
 and passengers, it being .'iflO miles nearer to Hali- 
 fax than Liverpool ; that it is within three hours' 
 direct railway eommunicati >n with Dublin; that 
 it also has iron foundries where steam machinery 
 can be made and repaired ; that it possesses numer- 
 ous warehouses capable of being used as the Amer- 
 ican grain and produce depot for the United King- 
 dom, and that its hotel accommodation is not sur- 
 passed by that of any city in Great Britain. Besides 
 these advantages, the saving of insurance on ships 
 and cargoes is 25 per cent less than it is on the 
 channel ships, as the dangers of that navigation are 
 avoided. An annual loss of 500 ships and 1000 
 lives in the channel creates the extra demand of the 
 Insurance Companies. Decreased consumption of 
 coal, stores and provisions, will enable the Galway 
 line to run at cheaper rates of freight and passage 
 than any other — and should not only command a 
 large traffic, but commend itself to the public, here 
 and on the other side of the Atlantic, as a great in- 
 ternational benefit. Everything in the future bids 
 fair to constitute Galway the great highway of com- 
 munication for passengers, freight and mails between 
 the United States and Europe. 
 
 ADVERTISEMENTS 
 
 The 'Lady Egunton ' xt Quebec. — The citizens 
 of Quebec extended a complimentary ball and supper 
 to the officers of this steamer upon her arrival at Que- 
 bec There were speeches made by the Mayor, Capt. 
 Bishop, Purser Berriman. and others. 
 
 ADVEBTISEJytEWTS. 
 
 FORTUNE & PELLETIER, 
 
 A.RE RECEIVING DAILY THEIB STOCK OF 
 
 tajmIi dress goods, 
 
 IiADIES' CX.OTH3, 
 
 SAIBROIBERZSS, 
 
 &e., &C., &C. 
 Their arrangements will enable them to oirur the newest 
 importations througliout the season at piiCL','< that will gen- 
 erally be found 
 
 LOWER 
 
 than any house in the trnrte. Their customers are protected 
 by their sysleni of 
 
 OI^;rB FHICEl 
 
 marked in plain figures upon all their Gooils. 
 
 379 Sc 381 'WT'.A.SHII^OTOIsr STREET 
 sepl4 3w 
 
 CATHOLIC BOOK STORE. 
 
 WILLIAM HHKEY, Catholic Uookscller, and Agent 
 for the Extensive rublisliiiig House of D. & J. 
 Sadliek & Co., of New York. 
 The late.'it and mojt varied stock of Religious rriiits, 
 MISSALS. PRAYER HOOKS. CROSSES, 
 and all the Current Literature, constantly on hand. 
 
 No. 128 FeDERAI, (CORNER OF WILIJAMS) STREET, 
 BOSTON, MASS. 
 
 OLD COLONY HOUSE. 
 
 JATRICK HOLLY beg« leave to announce to his pat- 
 roii'< and tin* piililic generallv that he has constantly 
 hniHl ut his old mid Mc-ll-kiin«n sliiiid, 
 
 THE OLD COLONY HOUSE, 
 
 CORXER OF KS-EELAND AS'D SOUTH STREETS, 
 
 A CHOICE ASSORTMENT OK 
 
 BRANDIES. WINES, SCOTCH & IRISH 
 
 WHISKEY, CIGARS, &c. &c., 
 
 all Ot the very timt quality, which can be obtained too at 
 
 LOWER RATES 
 
 than elsewhere in the market ; in proof of wbicb he invites 
 purcbasorf to give him a call. aug 28 
 
 SOUTH END CATHOLIC BOOK STORE, 
 
 And Depot fur the Sale of the 
 METROPOLITAS ANU YOUTHS' MAGAZINES. 
 
 WILLIAM KEATIXO. Aobkt, 
 
 8 1-2 Harrison Avenue, or at his New Periodical Store, 176 
 
 Harrison Avenue, Iloston, Mans., 
 
 Where a great variety of the most popular books and 
 
 Papers cam be had at tlie very lowest prices, 
 
 WILL supply Clubs, Agents, Canva-ssers. &c.. on the 
 same terinn as the Publishers. The lollowiiig arc 
 the terms— 3 copies will be sent by mail, to one addrew, (or 
 onevearS5; 6 copies for SIO; 13 copies forS20; 20 copies 
 for 830. 
 
 (C?* On the receipt of 83. three copies of the Catholic 
 Youth's 31agaziiie and one copy of the Metropolltau will 
 be mailed regularly lor one year. 
 
 D"7" A few sets of the Magazines from the beginning, can 
 be had of the Agent. Also, all new books furnished as 
 soon as published. ap24 Sinos 
 
 P . MORRIS. 
 
 APOTHECARY, 
 
 Comer of Federal and Purchase streets, foot of Summer 
 
 street, Hoston. 
 
 STRICT persoiinl atlentiun paid to compounding Physl 
 ciau's Pre^criptioiiH. A choice seleciiou of Family 
 Medicines constuiitly on hand. A well selected stock of 
 genuine imported PerfuiiUTV and Fancy (jouds. Soda 
 Water with choice Syrups. 'A large assortment of genuine 
 Havana Segars constantly on hand. ap5 
 
 T. P. FOYNES & CO., 
 
 COMMERCIAL, CARD, PLAIN AND 
 
 ORNAMENTAL JOB PRINTERS, 
 
 No. 40 Devonshire Street, 
 Corner of Water street, (formerly Gazette Office.) 
 
 jya 
 
 If 
 
 TEN READY WAYS Tu MAIvE MiiXICY, being ten 
 original receipts for the maiiufucture of usefularti- 
 cle;^, which comtnuiid a quick sale, and insure a full pocket. 
 Foi mci-lv sold I'or .«5; but now «ciit to auv per-^on lor one 
 gold dollar. Address T L REILLY. Peace Dale, R. I. 
 
 al8 
 
 3t 
 
 LAWRENCE BUICiADE HAND. J. Desmond, Lead- 
 er. Are prepared to furnish Music for Military and 
 Civic I'arades. I'ic-Nics, Festivals. &c. AL-'O, a Quadrille 
 Baiid fui-ni^hed, if desired. Address J. Desmond, care of 
 Rev. J. O'Douuell, Lawrence, Mass. 
 
 OUR AGENTS. 
 
 Boston —John J. Dyer, & Co., 86 School street: A. Wil- 
 liams & Co., 100 Wasliingtoii street: Fedheren & Co., 9 and 
 13 Court street; Wm. Hickey. 128 Federal street: Howe k 
 Co., 11 Court Avenue; and William Keating, 176 Harrison 
 Avenue. 
 
 Bangor, Me. — Edward J. Kelleher. 
 
 New York —Dexter & Brother, 14 & 16 Ann street. 
 
 Trov, N. Y.— Francis Roark. 
 
 Phiiadelphia— A. Winch, 320 Chestnut street. 
 
 Ohio.— M. 11. Bird, Cincinnati, and Hawks & Brotliers, 
 Cleavcland. 
 
 Detroit. Mich —J. A. Roys. 
 
 St. Louis. Missouri. — I'hdmas Duggan. 
 
 New Orleans, La.— James M. Shine. 
 
 Tlie Miscellany may also be had, retail, of newspaper and 
 periodical dealers throughout the country. 
 
 TRAVELLISO AGENTB. 
 
 John Warren, 50 Aiidover street, for Boston and vicinity, 
 J:imes Doyle, of Jlillbury. Ma.-s. M. Findlay McKay, 
 ol'Ame>burv. Mass. Edward H. Kcenan. ot Ndrtlj Ferris- 
 burg. Vt. Michae F. Uackett. uf Pio% ideiice. R. I. .James 
 SulPivali. of New Haven. Ct. Uoberl Crowe, of Brooklyn, 
 N. Y. James Ciillen, of Wtht Troy, N. V. Daniel A. liros- 
 nan, of Pliiladelphia, Pa. 
 
 RATES OF ADVERTISING. 
 
 POR EACH SQUARE OK TWELVE LINES. 
 
 First insertion. . . . 81.00 | Three months, . . M.OO 
 
 Each .subsequent do . 50 | One vear 16.00 
 
 Six lines or less constitute hnit a square. 
 
 Larger advertisements charged in proportion. 
 
 Business Notices, solid . . . 10 cents per line. 
 
 " '* leaded ... 16 " " " 
 
 BUSINESS CARDS of bix links or less. 
 
 For On Month.. . . .«! .60 1 Six Months, . . . 85.00 
 
 Three Months. . . . S3.IXI | due Year, .... S8.00 
 
 *,*AII advertiseuielits payable in advance. 
 
 IRISH MISCELLANV 
 
 Is published weekly, and devoted to the interej^ts and vin- 
 dication of the Irish people throughout tlie world. 
 
 The yrisffttany republislies each week one whole number 
 of the old • Dublin Penny Juoenal,' witli original and 
 selected essays, reviews, poetry, &c., by Irishmen, of iirst- 
 ratc ability. It also contains LcautiHil Pictorial Illustro- 
 tions of Irish scenery and other objects of interest, umoug 
 which may be enumerated engravingj) ot the aucient cas- 
 tles and round towers, the ruins of the old cburches, the 
 plundered monasteries, convents and obbeys of Ireland. 
 
 It will also contain correct Pictorial representations ot 
 works of art executed by Irishmen ot the present day, ae 
 well as in former times^ in this country and throughout 
 Europe. 
 
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VOLUiME 2— NUMBER 33] 
 
 BOriTON, SATURDAY, SEPTEMBER 25, 1858. 
 
 [PRICE FOUR CENTS 
 
 WILLIAM SMITH O'BRIEN. 
 
 The accompanvini^ liearl is an exi"ellent and authen- 
 tic lilceness of William Smith O'Brien, who has, after 
 a tedious exile, rsturDed to his native land, and the 
 home of his fathers. He is the second son of Sir Ed- 
 ward O'Brien, of county Clare, who sat for several 
 years in the Irish parliament. Born on the 17th of 
 October, 1803, and is now ahout 55 years of aj^e. 
 He was educated at Harrow School and Cambridge 
 University, and in 1830 was elected a member of par- 
 liament for the borough of Ennis. Though someiimes 
 acting with the whigs, he did not consider himself a 
 party man. He spoke occasionally wiih effect, and as 
 he exhibited an aptitude for business, was placed on 
 several important commit- 
 tees. In 1837, he voted 
 against a measure intro- 
 duced by the whig minis- 
 try, and his voting having 
 placed the government in a 
 minority, the ministers were 
 forced to resign. Mr.OCon- 
 nell denounced him on that 
 occasion, but he was sus- 
 tained by his constituency, 
 and returned to parliament 
 from Limerick. In 1843, he 
 opposed the passage of the 
 arms act for Ireland, and 
 received the thanks of the 
 Repeal Association for his 
 vote. He became an active 
 member of that association, 
 but withdrew, with others, 
 on the passage of Mr. John 
 O'Conncll's peace resolu- 
 tions, joining in the new 
 party that resulted there- 
 from. Mr. O'Brin belongs 
 to the most anciant family 
 (in a heraldic sense) in Eu- 
 rope. He traces, very dis- 
 tinctly, his relationship to 
 the celebrated Brien Bo- 
 roimhe (liricn of the cow- 
 tribute), ihe victor King 
 of Ireland, who. in 1014, 
 at Clontarf, defeated the 
 Danes, a grand and last en- 
 gagement, having previous- 
 ly defeated them in filiy- 
 seven battles, and freed his 
 country forever from their 
 yoke, though he lost his 
 own life in the last hour of 
 victory. At the coronation 
 of King Brien, at Tara, in 
 1008, the scnachies (her- 
 
 alds) traced hack hi'* lineage for fo^-ty generations, to 
 Ollial Ollial, King of Muns'er, four hundred years be- 
 fore Christ. In the various struggles of the native 
 chiefs with the English invaders, the O'Briens were 
 found to he an unconquerable clan. Whichever side 
 they espoused was generally successful in ibe end. It 
 was, unfortunately for Ireland, too much the practice 
 of the native chiefs to battle with each other, insiead 
 of with the coipraon enemy. But, more disastrous 
 still, they sometimes souuht the aid of the Anglo-Nor- 
 man invaders to bear down upon their border rivals. 
 The aid was freely given, with a view, of course, to 
 establish more firmly the English power in the coun- 
 try, and, by weakening and dividing the native princes, 
 
 ■WILLIAM SMITH O'BRIIiN. 
 
 prepare the way for more extended conquests, at each 
 change in the chess-board of chieftain ambiiion. The 
 O'Briens were one of the five families, of roy«l blnod, 
 to whom Henry the Sicoiid accorded special privi- 
 leges ; and, during the first four hundred years of Eng- 
 lish connection, their extensive possessions in Limer- 
 ick and Clare were not much diminished, f r they 
 generally managed to ki'cp up a good understnnding 
 with the English, and had subsequently taken the 
 English titles of Earls ef Thomond and Lords of In- 
 chiquin, by which they forfeited mmh of their popu- 
 larity with their clansmen. At the Reformation, and 
 particularly during the dreadful reign of Eliz:iheth, 
 the various chief members of this ancient family suf- 
 fered the loss of much of 
 their possessions,and would, 
 it is likely, have been srtip- 
 pcd of all, but for the expe- 
 dientof the widowed mother 
 of the young O'Briens of 
 Clare, who advised one of 
 itwo sons to conform to the 
 Protestant worship, and the 
 othfir to retnaio in ilie Cath- 
 olic faith, as, by these 
 tneans, the famWy estate 
 would be preserved, which- 
 ever party triumphed. It 
 was this circumstance, we 
 believe, which g&ve to tho 
 Protestant churcit the an- 
 cient family of O'Brien. 
 Sir Eilward O'Brien, the 
 father of Willti.m, retained 
 a goodly remnant of the 
 ancient property, and Mr. 
 William Smith O'Brien is 
 himself the po<scs'ior of Ca- 
 hermnyle, a handsome in- 
 heritance and mansion near 
 Adair.in the county of Lim- 
 erick. He was married to 
 the daughter of Alderman 
 Gabbett of Limerick, and 
 erjoys, in his elegant home, 
 all the happiness which it is 
 possible for a human being 
 to enjoy. A peculiar inde- 
 pendence of spirit seems ever 
 10 have distirguLshed Mr. . 
 Smiih O'Brien. Upon one 
 occasion he refused to stand 
 for the county of Limerick, 
 if his {'onsritueiiis persever- 
 ed in tluir intention to seek 
 the ii fluence of O'ConneU 
 in his liehalf, against the 
 opposing candidate. In par- 
 
98 
 
 IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 liament he ever stood aloof from llic parties ; as a 
 Protestant, lie was ever libernl, and voted for the 
 emaneipalion of the Catholics nnd ihe dissenters. At 
 one time (1835) he was very anxious to have n stale 
 provision extended to the Calholie eler(r_v, and aciunlly 
 put a notice on the bonks of pRrliiiment to that efleot. 
 But it was from an ndmiraiion of that cxaltid body of 
 men, and thorouj;h knowled^-e of their wants and pri-' 
 vations, and not wiih the deep Machiaveliau object of 
 connecting them with the state, and siUncini; their ad- 
 vocacy of the people's liberties by a bribe. Mr. 
 O'Brien is, we believe, averse to such a ineusure now. 
 Id parliament he is a good debator, a talker of matter, 
 not of words merely. He was universally respected 
 by both jides of the house,and has proved, in the Koe- 
 bnck battle, how cooly and calmly he can smile, in 
 bitter contempt, upon the assembled insolence of Eng- 
 land. Mr. O'Brien bears about his person an indis- 
 pensable dif;nity, a perfect gentleman in manners and 
 in air, the Bayard of the House iif Commons. Every 
 step of his, as he walked up the floor of the British 
 parliament-house, procbiimed him a hero, and the 
 descendant of heroes. When he spoke, the minister 
 listened ; and when the suggested, the minister de- 
 ferred. His motion, in 1843, for a comn.iitee of in- 
 quiry into the state of Ireland, split up the House of 
 Commons into twenty pirties. A leader of the aris- 
 tocracy — one of themselves — he brought forward 
 charges against English legistion which, coming from 
 O'Connell or any other man, would lack the force of 
 partisanship, but coming from one of those great pil- 
 lars upon which sovereignly resposes, it shook the en- 
 tire structure of that thing called British government. 
 Mr. 0'Brien,in conjunction with several (jtlier members 
 of parliament from Ireland, non repealers, presented to 
 the British parliament a solemn appeal or petition, 
 setting forth the many grievances which Ireland en- 
 dured, and demanding various specilic remedies. This 
 most solemn appeal was signed by many of the Irish 
 peerage and baronetage, by a great number of the 
 landed gentry, bankers, and merchants. It was an 
 nnusually solemn and last appeal for justice to Ireland, 
 and the motion now made by Mr. O'Brien was to test 
 the disposition of the English parliament to hearken 
 to the voice of the most wealthy and respectable men 
 oflrcland. 
 
 His speech was, indeed, a traly able one. He prov- 
 ed that in the distributionof high official appointments 
 in Ireland, twenty-seven in every thirty offices were 
 given to English or Scotchmen ; in the minor grades, 
 connected with excise or customs in Ireland, thirty-six 
 in even,- thirty-seven, were English or Scotchmen ; th^t 
 in the distribution of church incomes, the Protestant 
 hierarchy enjoyed annual millions from the soil, while 
 the Catholic hierarchy depended upon the voluntary 
 support of the people ; that in the franchise of the peo- 
 ple, and the number of their representatives, England, 
 with sixteen millions of pojiulalion, was represented 
 in the House of Commons by five hundred and eight 
 members, while Ireland, with nearly nine millions 
 possessed but one hundred and five memliers ; that 
 Irelund contributed full four millions annually of net 
 revenue to the support ofEnglnnd, but in the outlay of 
 that immense sum, not more than a few th, u^nnd ever 
 came back; that while England habitually expended, 
 under the head of navy stores, six millions per annum, 
 not more than eight thousand pounds, under that head 
 were expended in Ireland. The wasting absentee 
 drain, the grinding grand-jury tax, poor law, and tithe 
 system, were all exhibited by Mr. O'Brien to England, 
 in their true colors, in a clear, methodical and convinc- 
 ing manner. The debate lasted three days. All the 
 leading men, on every side, delivered their sentiments 
 and the diversity of opinion as to the best means of re- 
 storing peace to Ireland rivAlled the fabled blessings of 
 Pomona's horn. Some contended for the destruction 
 of the Irish church, others for the distribution of its 
 wealth among the other religious ministers of Ireland. 
 Some proposed that Catholic bishops should have seats 
 in the house of lords. Others urged the extension of 
 franchise, and more members in the House of Com- 
 
 mons for Ireland. Others, again, were tor a tcnnrc 
 bill ; for the construction of railways at the public ex- 
 pense. The high conservative members proposed as 
 sweeping alterations in the government of Ireland as 
 did the wliigs ; and the premier could not, in his re- 
 ply, conceal the diflicultifs under whiih he labored. 
 The motion was, however, resisted by a clear major- 
 ity of seventy. William Smith O'Brien thin entered 
 a solemn protest, signed by himself and several other 
 members, upon the journal of the H luse, which de- 
 clared it ineupable or unwilling to do justice to Ireland, 
 and soon after seceded from jiarliament and joined the 
 Kepeal Association. 
 
 O'Connell and the leaders in Conciliation Hall re- 
 eeived this debate with ixtraordinary pleasuie. He 
 declared that all bis hopes for Ireland would be real- 
 ized ; that on reading this dcbaie, he gave hln):.elf up 
 entirely to pleasure, and spent one day in peifiet idle- 
 ness — a political holid.iy, in the enjoyment of unniixud 
 delight. . 
 
 Mr.O'Britn was refu-ed a committee of iniiniry. The 
 House adjourned, without doing anything for Ireand. 
 He travelled through Europe during the recess, 
 to look into the state of society abroad, and to revive 
 his exhaus'ed frame. On his return, he found Ireland 
 almost in rebellion. O'Coniull and the repeal leader^ 
 arrested, and the whole island in a state of blockade. 
 He decided i-oon to stand by his country. He delib- 
 erated upon the step he was about to take. He knew 
 he was about to tear himself from those fascinating 
 circles in which he bad moved from infancy ; to turn 
 friends and relatives into fues ; to incur the charge of 
 apostacy from his caste ; to become the follower of 
 O'Connell, and incur the taunts and rudeness of the 
 whole circle of partisan journals. 
 
 Had he been a thing of fashion or foppery, he 
 never would have had courage to do this; but he 
 has the heart of a true patriot and a hero. He did 
 abandon all his personal friends ; and ir. a letter, 
 Avhich O'Connell designated an 'event,' joined the 
 Loyal National Kepeal Association of Ireland. The 
 following extract from this able letter will disclose 
 to the reader a glimpse of his mind : — 
 
 'Ireland, instead of taking her place as an integ- 
 ral of the great empire which the valor of her sons 
 has contributed to constitute, has been treated as a 
 dependent tributary province ; and at this moment, 
 after forty-three years of nominal union, the at- 
 tachments of the two nations are so entirely alien- 
 ated from each other, that England trusts, for the 
 maintenance of the connection, not to the affection 
 of the Irish people, but to bayonets which menace 
 our bosoms, and to the cannon which .she has placed 
 in all our strongholds.' And then he goes on to 
 show that, as a member of parliament, he attended 
 in his place, session after session, night after night, 
 trying to extort from the minister of England 
 some attention to the affairs of his country. And 
 then he describes his recent visit to the con- 
 tinent. He says : 'After visiting Belgium, and all 
 the principal capitals of Germany, I returned home, 
 impressed with the sad conviction, that there is 
 more human mi.sery in one county in Ireland, than 
 throughout all the populous cities and districts 
 which 1 had visited. On landing in England, I 
 learned that the ministry, instead of applying them- 
 selves to remove the causes of discontent, have re- 
 solved to deprive us even of the liberty of complaint. 
 I should be unworthy to belong to a nation which 
 may claim, at least, as a characteristic, virtue that 
 exhibits increasing fidelity in the hour of danger, 
 if I were to delay any longer to dedicate myself to 
 the cause of my country. 
 
 •Slowly, reluctantly convinced that Ireland has 
 nothing to hope from the sagaeitj', ihc justice, or 
 generosity of England, my reliance shall be hence- 
 forward placed upon our country and her patriot- 
 ism." 
 
 The effect of this junction upon Ireland we will 
 not endeavor to describe at present. It is impossi- 
 
 man of the highest station, wealthy and indepen- 
 dent in mind, of powerful abilities and indomita- 
 ble resolution, tears himself forever from his nristo- 
 eratic relatives, and flings himself into the arms of 
 the common people, to live among them or die at 
 their hand. The people were electrified with joy, 
 and not without cause. A grand banquet was giv- 
 en to him at Lin;crick, at which O'Connell presided, 
 and on that memorable occasion, a new alliance 
 was formed in favor of Ireland, which should have 
 lusted forever. Mr. O'Brien seemed determined 
 to be true to that alliance. lie had been 
 in every post of difficulty or danger. When the 
 Clontarf meeting was dispersed, he offered to hold a 
 monster meeting of his constituents in Limerick, 
 and take the chair upon the occasion, in detlance 
 of the government. When O'CJonnell was put upon 
 trial, he was at his back every day in the courts ; 
 and, during O'Connell's celebrated speech in de- 
 fence, he stood up behind him the entire day. When 
 O'Connell was sent to prison, O'Brien issued an 
 address to the people, signed with his own name, 
 in which he declared 'war to the knife' against the 
 oppressors of Ireland, and, in the Kepeal Associa- 
 tion, next day, madcuseof these remarkable words : 
 'They have sent a man to prison who has submitted 
 quietly to their decree, but who, if he chose to raise 
 his finger, could call around hira two millions of 
 men that would die rather than see him go to 
 prison.' 
 
 AVhen Sheriff Porter proposed a national militia 
 of one hundred thousand men, to give the Irish 
 members 'pluck,' Smith O'Brien, in the association, 
 echoed the call, and said he wished he might not 
 die till he saw an Irish army in Ireland, ready to 
 protect Ireland from all invasion. AA'hen, in Feb- 
 ruary, O'Connell resolved not to go to the English 
 parliament, but to hold a little parliament at home, 
 O'Brien said, in Conciliation Hull, 'Although no 
 monarch, with sound of trumpet, opens our par- 
 liament, the uncrowned monarch of Ireland is 
 amongst us, guiding our councils and animating our 
 hearts. We adopt the sentiment of the men of 
 178'2, and we declare that no power on earth, mor- 
 ally speaking, has the power to make laws for this 
 country, save the king, lords, and commons oflrc- 
 land.' When Mr. Macaulay, on the Maynooth 
 debate, went out of his way to denounce the repeal 
 and repealers — when he said that, though Ireland 
 were in open rebellion, though the fleet of France 
 were confronting the British fleet in the Channel, 
 though the repealers of America were in the Shan- 
 non, yet the union should not be repealed until 
 England was shaken from her place among the na- 
 tions—Smith O'Brien replied, in Conciliation Unll, 
 'If Ireland were once in the field, if the fleet of 
 France confronted England in the Channel, if the 
 American repealers were coming in the Shannon, 
 then the future history of Ireland would be written 
 as that of an independent nation.' 
 
 These three or four traits in Mr. O'Brien's char- 
 acter will be sufficient to give our readers an idea of 
 the firmness and fearlessness of the man whom the 
 people of Iieland had placed in command, and, in 
 their estimation, next to O'Connell. Between him 
 and O'Connell, there existed the most afieclionate 
 friendship. O'Brien owned O'Connell, the chief of 
 Ireland, her guide and her advocate ; he took no step 
 without consulting bim ; nor, on the other hand, did 
 the Liberator take any serious step wiihout consulting 
 the member for Limerick. 
 
 After the French revolution of 1848, he was very 
 bold in^he expression of his views, both in parliament 
 and in Ireland, and was brought to trial with Mr. 
 Meagher for sedition. The government failed to con- 
 vict him, and he was liberated. He was afterwards ar- 
 rested, tried for treason, and sentenced to death ; but 
 his punishment was commuted to transportation to 
 Van Uiemen's land. During the Eastern war he re- 
 
 ble to exaggerate it. Mr. O'Brien, a Protestant, a ' ceived permission to visit Europe, and latterly to re- 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY-. 
 
 99 
 
 turn 10 Great Britain, of wliich he iim,. . . 
 
 himsulf. lie is a man of grout aliility, jrrcat resn- 
 liiiion, nml a sincne lover of his native land. We 
 hi.Te (lose for the present our biography of this cele- 
 brated patriot. 
 
 THE DANCER OF PROSPERITY. 
 
 A SVPrOSKl) DIALOGUE BETWEEN SOCR,VTES AND HIS 
 PUPIL, ALCiniADES. 
 
 What can afford greater happiness than uninter- 
 rupted prosperity ? This vi-as a question proposed 
 by Alcibiades to his tutor, as they sauntered on the 
 banks of the Ilissus. It was suggested by a pre- 
 vious conversation on the history of Xerxes, and on 
 the changes to which everything earthly is liable — 
 a liability sirikingly displayed in the life of that ex- 
 traordinary monarch. 'Prosperity,' said Socrates, 
 'marked with her favors the commencement of his 
 reign. The Persian diadem was placed upon his 
 head, while his elder, but less fortunate brother, 
 Artabazanes, was passed by with cruel and unjust 
 neglect. Xerxes received the kingdom in a flour- 
 ishing state, and seemed qualitied by nature to 
 maintain all the glory and all the power which his 
 father had acquired ; nor was there, if we may cred- 
 it the assertions of his panegyrists, in the extensive 
 empire of Persia, one so worthy to manage its affairs. 
 Though the dominion he received on his accession 
 to the throne was vast, he established his fame, in- 
 creased his wealth, and added to his almost bound- 
 less possessions by the conquest of revolted Egypt. 
 Yet, in the midst of all his glory and his greatness, 
 while on the march to universal monarchy, his 
 pride was mortified, and his progress checked, by a 
 handful of Spartans at the pass of Therraopyla?. 
 Subsequent defeats completed the ruin ot his pro- 
 jects, and sent him back to Persia covered with dis- 
 grace. In a small fishing-smack, he re-passed the 
 Hellespont, which but a few months before, he had 
 pretended to chain, and lash into obedience. To 
 complete the tragic tale, scarcely had he reached his 
 home and begun to lose the memory of his sorrows 
 and disgrace, in the gratification of every sensual 
 desire, when the assassin's dagger disturbed his 
 effeminate repose, freed the unhappy monarch of his 
 earthly cares, but sent him to those dismal shades 
 reserved in Tartarus as the abode of tyrants, and 
 fixed his residence in the place allotted for the pun- 
 ishment of those who attempt the destruction of the 
 peace and happiness of man.' From this detail of 
 facts, which had transpired within his own memory, 
 Socrates furnished his disciple with many moral re- 
 flections, obviously deducible from the history, and 
 peculiarly adapted to allay the raging thirst for pow- 
 er, which was parching the soul of that noble youth. 
 ' You may always,' said he, 'rest upon this observa- 
 tion, that uninterrupted prosperity never has been, 
 nor shall be the lot of man. Adversity clouds his 
 brightest scenes, and embitters his sweetest draughts. 
 Xight does not more regularly succeed the day, 
 nor winter the summer, than misfortune follows a 
 train of prosperous events.' 
 
 'Wherefore, then,' raurmurred Alcibiades, after 
 having remained for a time wrapped in thought, 
 'wherefore have the gods denied us such a source of 
 happiness ; for what can be more conducive to the 
 happiness of n.an than uninterrupted prosperity ?' 
 
 'My young friend,' said Socrates, 'from which of 
 these two sources do you imagine the purest felicity 
 to spring — a life of virtue or of vice ?' 
 
 'Doubtless' replied the youth, 'from a life of vir- 
 tue. You have frequently proved to my satisfac- 
 tion that the more virtuously we live, the more do 
 we approximate to the life of the gods— that how- 
 ever distant the result, misery is the inseparable at- 
 tendant of crime, and happiness the invariable re- 
 ward of virtue.' 
 
 'Well, then,' said Socrates, 'wherein think you, 
 does a virtuous life consist ? In the action of apa- 
 
 »hv or sloth, or in the e.\ertions of industry and 
 appheaiux. . •' 
 
 'Certainly,' replied Alciuio 
 
 -., ., , , ' , *'"> nroper ex- 
 
 ertion 01 both corporal and mental powers lui ».. 
 
 attiiinment of justifiable objects.' 
 
 'And do you not perceive,' continued the philos- 
 opher, 'that while prosperity damps and deadens the 
 energies of man, adversity appears to recruit bis fac- 
 ulties with unusual vigor, and affords powerful in- 
 centives to renewed, redoubled efforts ?' 
 
 'Procceed,' said Alcibiades; 'when I disapprove, 
 I shall signify it by a negative.' 
 
 'To refer,' said Socrates, 'to those interesting 
 events which just now occupied our attention, do 
 you imagine that prosperity would so completely (if 
 at all) have elicited the fortitude of I.eonidas, or so 
 effectually called his valor into action, or so signally 
 developed his patriotism, as the adverse circum- 
 stances in which he was placed actually have done. 
 Had Greece been in a prosperous state, would The- 
 mistocles so readily have sacrificed his ambition for 
 the welfare of his country, as he did, when he saw 
 destruction impending over Athens, and waved his 
 claims, and permitted his rival, Eurybiades, to com- 
 mand tho confederate fleet, a post of honor to 
 which the former thought himself alone entitled 
 to aspire ? Is it possible that victory would have 
 crowned him with glory, and emancipated Greece 
 from the fear of bondage, in the naval conflict at 
 Salamis, had not the Grecians perceived themselves, 
 by the artifice of their general, reduced to the des- 
 perate alternative of submitting to slavery, or ob- 
 taining a triumph ? 
 
 'If we refer for illustrations to the events of pri- 
 vate life, the young merchant possessed of but a 
 small patrimony engages with avidity in commer- 
 cial concerns, and gives up all his soul to the ac- 
 quisition of gain. Prosperity crowns his exertions, 
 and pours the treasures of India at his feet. But 
 the golden flood, as it fills his coffers, drowns and 
 smothers all his energies, which once gave life and 
 vigor to his efforts. His desires are satisfied, and 
 unless some fresh stimulus to action is presented, 
 he becomes at once the prey of indolence, resigning 
 the conduct of his commercial pursuits into the 
 hands either of a stranger or a hireling : he bids a 
 last farewell to the busy scenes of the Pij-oeus ; and 
 either choosing some splendid mansion in the city 
 for his future residence, there wallows in lu.xury and 
 debauchery, or seeking some retired corner of At- 
 tica, buries himself in the slothful apathy, which 
 too frequently pollutes the villas of the great. As 
 virtue then is the true source of felicity, and as pros- 
 perity is generally found fatal to active exertion, I 
 wish to draw the conclusion.' 
 
 Alcibiades remained .silent, while his venerable 
 instructor proceeded in the argument. 
 
 'To take one more view,' said he, 'of the subject, 
 whether do you think the gratification of a selfish 
 individual, or the good of mankind, of the greater 
 importance ?' 
 
 'Beyond all question," replied the youth, 'the good 
 of mankind.' 
 
 'And,' continued Socrates, 'if these two objects 
 be set in competition with each other, which should 
 have the preference r' 
 
 'Certainly the latter.' 
 
 'Pvemember,' said Socrates, 'what you have ad- 
 mitted, and recognising these sentiments, turn for 
 an exeinpliHcation of the argument to the history 
 that has furnished us in a groat measure the matter 
 of this dialogue. Suppose that the prosperity of 
 Xerxes had been uninterrupted, and that he had 
 conquered Greece (may the gods avert the omen), 
 his vanity would have been flattered, his pride fed, 
 and every sclRish desire of his heart gratified— but 
 how i> By the misery of Greece. One worthless 
 individual would have succeeded in the most infa- 
 mous designs; while millions of the human race 
 were hurled into the abysses^of adversity and woe. 
 
 Look through the world, and see the connexion that 
 
 exists between the different members of society. 
 
 Like the several parts of the body, to each of them 
 
 •'•o f.itpg j,ayp allotted some particular ofiice to fulfil, 
 some paniv,,-. * ' 
 
 „,,„.,. ,, ■■">,in which to move. If one 
 
 member were allowed to aw... . 
 
 engross the nourishment which shouffl^s^!"^^ f "'^ 
 another, the body would become monstrous ; and 
 if this were to continue for any length of time, the 
 whole corporal system would be disorganized. The 
 same appears to me precisely applicable to the rela- 
 tion which the individuals of society bear to each 
 other. The desires of one thwart the wishes of a 
 second ; and the desires of the second will be found 
 to run counter to the wishes of a third. If unin- 
 terrupted prosperity were to attend the plans of the 
 ambitious man, what could you expect but that de- 
 struction and death would devastate the globe ? If 
 uninterrupted prosperity were to crown the sordid 
 pursuits of the covetous, in what caves should the 
 helpless widow, the unfriended orphan, hide their 
 devoted heads ? If uninterrupted prosperity were 
 to smile upon the malignant devices of the envious, 
 the infamous stratagems of the debauched, the deep 
 laid schemes of the unjust, where could we provide 
 an asylum for virtue, or a refuge for chastity, or a 
 sanctuary for justice ? Explain. But were the gods 
 to grant prosperity to all, the flood gates of misery 
 would be opened, and the world deluged with blood. 
 Anarchy, worse than primaeval, would destroy the 
 noblest works of Deity, and the reign of chaos re- 
 commence with tenfold horrors.' 
 
 'You have convinced me,' cried Alcibiades ; I am 
 ashamed of my rash exclamation ; I see that were 
 the gods to grant what I murmured against them 
 for denying, the spark of virtue that lingers in the 
 human soul would become extinct ; and every bond 
 that holds society together would be annihilated." 
 
 'Instead, then,' said Socrates, 'of seeking a tem- 
 porary happiness from the intoxicating di-aughts of 
 prosperity, seek that true and lasting felicity of 
 which virtue is the only source.' 
 
 Smuggling in the Nethkelands— Dogs of a 
 very large and strong breed for the purpose of draft, 
 are harnessed in the Netheriands, like horses, and 
 chiefly employed in drawing carts with fish, vegeta- 
 bles, eggs, etc., to market. Previous to the year 1725, 
 such dogs were also employed in smuggling, which 
 was the more easy, as they are extremely docile. As 
 it is probable that this mode of si^uggling may have 
 been again resorted to since the year 1815, the following 
 account will be found correct. The dogs were accus- 
 tomed to go backwards and forwards between two 
 places on the frontiers without any person to attend 
 them. A dog of this kind was often worth six or seven 
 lous d'ors, as the training cost some trouble. Being 
 loaded with pircels of goods, lace, &c., like mules, 
 they set out, and only when it was perfectly dark. An 
 excellent, quick scented dog, always went some paces 
 before the other, stretched out his nose to all quarters 
 and when he scented custom house officeis, &e., turn- 
 ed back, which was the signal for immediate flight. 
 Concealed in ditches, behind bushes, &c., the dogs lay 
 till all was safe ; they then proceeded on their journey, 
 and reached at last, beyond the frontier, the dwelling 
 of the receiver, who was in the .'^ecret. But here, also 
 the leader only at first shewed himself, but on hearing 
 a certain whistle, which was the sigiialthat everything 
 was right, they all hastened up. They were then un- 
 loadcil, taken to a convenient stable, where there was a 
 good layer of hay, and well (cd. There they rested 
 till iniilnight, and then returned in the same manner 
 back, over the frontiers. In London, the butchers 
 Blake dogs draw carts with a quarter of ox-beef ■ ond 
 the poor peasantry of Ireland might make dogs draw 
 manure when they could not afi'ord to keep u horse. 
 
 'How would you divivde druclim.'' asked one printer 
 of another. 'Why,' replied the other, '1 wo«ld drink 
 one half.' 
 
100 
 
 IRISH MISCEIJ.ANY. 
 
 A VISIT TO JOANNA. 
 
 BY TnE HON. MPS. CRSKINK NOItTON. 
 
 I do not rfcollcrt ever having l>i'"" "■ .... 
 
 , ,. . . ..,1.11 Ounn).' n niornm;' msii 
 
 Ihr course of uiv;-. , , , 
 
 J ., u small ulund tu inu norlli ol 'he rbaniiil 
 
 of the Mo2anilii(iut. It is iuln.bitcd by a horde of 
 Arabs, who, as fur as I coiild make out, took possess- 
 ion of it betwitn two and. three centuries since, nnil 
 have remained unmolested, as well by their Kavaj,'e 
 neighbors of Sliulagascar, aa by iliose of the opposite 
 continent; their only enemies arc the Mainotes, iuhab- 
 iianis of an island near them. 
 
 We anchored before Joanna early in the morning uf 
 the 22d of Jnly, 1821. 
 
 Whilst I was dressing, I observed a canoe coming 
 otV, and presently after, from the bustle on deck, I 
 knew visitors had airiied. Of course I was prepared 
 by the descriptioiis I had received, yet I found it a 
 verj- difficult matter to preserve my gravity on being 
 introduced in form by my husband to his old acquaint- 
 ances Cfor he had been here twice bcf. re,) Lord Wel- 
 lington, Lord Sidmoutb, Admiral Rodney, and the 
 prime minister, who, although ilie most distinguished 
 among them, bore only the siinple title of Bombay 
 Jack. Lord Wellington wore, over his loose and 
 rather ragged drab trousers, an old red coat, with a 
 pair of epaulettes, which had seen good cervice on 
 some gay marine, and a cocked hat to match. Admi- 
 ral Rodney sported a naval coat with two pairs of 
 epaulettes, one laid over the other on each shoulder. 
 Bombay Jack and Lord Sid mouth were in plain 
 clothes, that is to say, arrayed according to their own 
 fa.shion, with, however, sundry amusing decorations; 
 all without shoes and .stockings. 
 
 They spoke English, Bombay Jaik particularly 
 well. He was a keen, shrewd, little old man, and had, 
 under his king, governed Joanna for many years. He 
 had received the appellation of Bombay Jack from the 
 following circumstance. A ship belonging to the East 
 India Company had been wrecked on some part of the 
 coast of Joanna; the crew were most hospitably and 
 kindly treated by these poor Arabs. Two vessels 
 passing soon after for Bombay, part of tlie sufferers 
 were put on board of one, and the prime minister, 
 with the remainder, embarked in the other. They ar- 
 rived at Bombay, and the Company, always noble in 
 Us rewards and encouragement, promised to send 
 them every year a present of a little cloth, and some 
 other articles valuable to them; this promise, I believe, 
 has been punctually performed, and has not only se- 
 cured the assistance and good will of these islanders, 
 bnt ha* also proved an inducement to their neighbors 
 to 'go and do likewise.' 
 
 'Yon shall sec, masters,' said Jack, when seated in 
 our cabin, with a glass of wine before him, 'that Bom- 
 bay Jack be no fool. Long, long time since (early in 
 1800), Frenchmen came here, like Joanna very mnch; 
 ask no f|uestionB, come on shore, build huts, buy food, 
 and then begin plant cotton. I no like this. French- 
 men very civil, but very sly; when cotton grow and 
 money come, they take Joanna, and wo go into the 
 »ca; no, no, that not do — Bombay Jack too cunning. 
 Cotton planted — cotton coming up well. One dark 
 night, when Frenchmen all sleep, wo go very quiet, 
 boil water, and pour it very quiet over all cotton plants. 
 Next morning Frenchmen wake — cotton plants all 
 dead; they come to me; I tell, 'Cotton always do so — 
 a little time good, good, then all die in one night.' 
 Very well. Frenchmen next day pack up, go on 
 board little ship and go away. Good-bye, good-bye,' 
 continaed Bombay Jack, standing up, however, and 
 waving his hands in exultation; then turning to us, 
 he said, 'what people say if I not do this? Why, they 
 no more call me Bombay Jack — but they call me — 
 Jack-Ass." 
 
 Each of these Joanna noblemen had with him a 
 packet of papers, containing characters given to him 
 by the commanders, officers, or passengers of differ- 
 ent vessels, recommending the bearer as a good and 
 honest washerman, &c. Some also, had their pa- 
 tenta of nobility drawn up and signed by the different 
 
 I commanders, who had dubh"-' •' 
 
 ihev lin™ , , I . , -I 
 
 I .AS It was early, and they promised to treat n» with 
 
 i plenty f,f (roiid milk, eggs and mflVe, on tlmre, we 
 ' vned 10 accept their invitation to breakfa.-it; accord- 
 ingty, a young litily who who with me, and myself, ]iut 
 on our bonnets, and the boat was ordered. While we 
 were assembled on the deck, ready for oar trip, Lord 
 Sidmonth came up to us, and whispered, 'Tou no give 
 washing to Lord Wellington; great rascal he — not 
 wash well, and always steal pcojile clothes; better wait 
 and give to Prince of Wales on shore; he very good 
 washerman, and very honest.' Wo extricated our- 
 selves from this little court intrigue by snying, that as 
 we had so lately left the Cape, ;ind should remain so 
 short a time at Joanna, it was probable we should not 
 re<[uire their services in this respect. 
 
 We were soon on shore. The village (or city, per- 
 haps I ought to call it), was composed of small, low, 
 imgular liabiiatiuns, looking extremely hot, silent, 
 and dull; the two last qualifications I attributed to the 
 total absence of women, who, perhaps on account of 
 our visit, were kept more out of sight- than usual. The 
 abode of the king was singular; it was built of wood, 
 in ihe shape of a ship, upon an arch. We went un- 
 derneaih the arch, where a small door opened to a nar- 
 row flight of stairs, which conducted us to his majes- 
 ty's apartments; they consisted, as far as we saw, of 
 three small rooms; the first was an armory, containing 
 a tolerable display of muskets, neatly arranged and in 
 good order; the second was tliu presence chamber, 
 where, at the head of a rude table, elevated on cush- 
 ions, and wearing a scarlet mantle, trimmed with tar- 
 nislied gold lace and fringe, white petticoat trowsers, 
 and a turban, sat the old king, hight George the Third; 
 round his neck and on bis turban he wore what he in- 
 tended to be taken for precious s'oncs. Near him 
 stood the Prince of Wales, a fine, intelligent young 
 man, dressed neatly after the fashion of his country. 
 No one sat down. 
 
 The king nodded graciously to ns (the two ladies,_) 
 and asked my husband which of the two belonged to 
 him, and then enquired why and wherefore the other 
 one was not disposed of, with sundry oiher cjueer 
 questions, which I began to think the sooner I put an 
 end to the better. I therefore requested his majesty's 
 permission 40 pay our respects to the queen and prin- 
 cesses, which was immediately granted, and we were 
 conducted by the Prince of Wales through a short, 
 narrow, dark passage, which was ended by a curtain. 
 This being withdrawn, we discovered, after peering 
 about a little, three female figures seated on cushions 
 on the floor; they had handkerchiefs placed rather 
 gracefully over their heads, the rest of their persons 
 were concealed by shawls. 
 
 The two girls, so far as the dim light permitted us 
 to observe, were good-looking, with line, but heavy 
 eyes; their whole appearance indicated melancholy 
 and indifference; they stared at ns, but I could not 
 trace in their look either curiosity or interest. The 
 old lady, who seemed to have a little more life in her, 
 put one or two questions through her son. How long 
 had I been married' How many children had 1? 
 She then spoke a few words in her own language to 
 her son, and we courtesied and took our leave; the 
 three bowed their heads like automatons, and I was 
 glad to escape from a scene which presented my sex 
 in so miserable and degraded a condition. 
 
 On returning up the dark passage, we went into the 
 thinl apartment, which contained a table and a few 
 chairs; the table was covered with a cloth (not over 
 clean, considering there were so many washermen); 
 cups, saucers, and plates, of English white ware, were 
 placed on it, with two large bowls of milk; here we 
 look our seats. A great deal of talk and bargaining 
 were going forward in the presence chamber for things 
 wanted from our ship. When these important affairs 
 were settled, my husband joined ns, and rice, fresh 
 eggs and cofi'ce were placed on the table, and we man- 
 aged to make a very good breakfast, after which we 
 took oar leave of the shrewd and merry old king, and. 
 
 Hccordins; to a promise wc had made, proceeded to the 
 resilience of the I'rinre of Wales, wlioic wc were to 
 pass the morning, until the barguin that had been con- 
 cluded was executed. 
 
 As we walked along I heard from one of the huts a 
 bu/.zing, humming luiic, like a set of schoolboys at 
 their tusks. I popped my head in, and found I was 
 not mistaken, and, from the glance 1 had of the school- 
 master, I was sure he was a European; but we were 
 so hurried along, on account of the intense heat, that I 
 had no time for fiinher observation. The residence of 
 the Prince of Wales, I was gratified by remarking, 
 evidently showed the improvement of the rising gene- 
 ration; it had a cheerful verandah, aud two or three 
 little rooms behind, which were airy and clean. The 
 walls of the verandah were entirely covered with pic- 
 tures, prints, and wuod-cuts, &c-, with a number of 
 little common looking-glasses, children's toys and 
 beads. 
 
 After we had taken ofl' our bonnets and rested, and 
 fanned ourselves until we were as cool as we could be 
 in a shade where the heat was at least 96 degrees 
 Faih., we accepted the prince's proposal to introduce 
 Us to his wife, and accompanied him into a back 
 apartment, very superior in all respects to that of the 
 queen. A curtain that was suspended in the centre 
 was looped up, and behind it sat the princess, on a 
 low couch. She was young, and near her first ac- 
 couchment, more animated, but not so pretty as 
 her sibters-iii-law. An old woman was seated on 
 the floor opposite the couch, who, we understood, 
 was her mother, and who seemed wrapped up in 
 the contemplation of her daughter's grandeur. She 
 was not, however, grand enough to satisfy her hus- 
 band, who whispered something to her, on which 
 she reluctantly pointed to a bundle on a shelf be- 
 hind her; this he took down, and opening it, threw 
 a shawl over her, which, I suppose, he considered 
 richer than the one she had on, and, having laid 
 another on the couch, put back the bundle and left 
 us. 
 
 As soon as he was gone, she spoke to her mother 
 and smUed a little, as if she were amused at what 
 he had done; she then turned to us with some at- 
 tention and curiosity, and touched and examined 
 the materials of our dresses, but as we could do 
 nothing but stare and smile at one another, I was 
 not sorry when his royal highness returned. As he 
 appeared the most civilized of their community, I 
 ventured to ask him whether the princess would 
 not prefer sitting out with us In the verandah. He 
 smiled, and shook his head. 'Not to-day, lady, too 
 much stranger.' He then inquired what wc called 
 the relationship that would exist between hfs father, 
 the king, and the child that was expected. I 
 explained to him the terms grandson, granddaugh- 
 ter, grandchild, grandchildren, which he quickly 
 understood, and repeated with a good accent. We 
 soon took our leave, and returned to the verandah. 
 
 The island of Joanna, which, I believe, is about 
 the size of that of JIadeira, is very beautiful and 
 fertile; a wild lu.xuriant vegetation covers its sur- 
 face, undulating with hill and dale to the very mar- 
 gin of the sea; towards the interior it is very moun- 
 tainous. Every thing that has yet been tried thrives 
 exceedingly well, not even excepting cotton; of 
 coffee there is abundance. The inhabitants them- 
 selves are eager for improvement, and very capable 
 of it, and their veneration for the English is so great 
 that I am sure, with a little management, we might 
 effect any change we judged proper. 
 
 When the breeze sprung up we took leave of Jo- 
 anna, her monarch, and his court. As the island 
 fadad on our view, I could scarcely believe what I 
 had witnessed was real life. If, reader, you have 
 ever had the luxury of sitting out a solemn play by 
 strolling actors in a bam, with their robes, and 
 their rags, their tinsel and poverty, their assumed 
 dignity and inexorable gravity, you will be able to 
 form a just idea of my impression — only that yours 
 was produced by representation, and mine by reality. 
 
miSH MISCELLANY. 
 
 101 
 
 Glemcaikne Abbbt, situated on the same margin 
 of tlie river BUcliWdter witii Lisraore Castle, from 
 which it is about three miles distant, is a pretty edi- 
 fice, in the abbey style, and forms a prominent feature 
 amongst the many beautiful and' truly picturesque ob- 
 jects with which the banks of the abo%'e river are orna- 
 mented. It belongs to the family of the late Henry 
 A. Bushe, Esq., by whom it was finished; and we re- 
 gret to remark, that notwithstanding the bold situa- 
 tion, and the judiciously designed and highly finished 
 compartments of the interior, yet (owing to the origi- 
 nal projector), the exterior of the walls, with the ex- 
 ception of the butresses, are a composition of plaster in 
 imitation of limestone, which, although at present 
 wearing so very pleasing an appearance to a super- 
 ficial observer, must, in a few years, inevitably mould- 
 er to decay. 
 
 We the more readily make the above remark, as the 
 immediate and surrounding country abounds with 
 limestone, which might be procured at no great ex- 
 pense, and this prevent the defects to which plaster 
 must be liable. 
 
 Wearing thejMjinufactubes of our own Coun- 
 try A Means of Employing the Poor. < Every 
 stranger who travels through this beautiful island 
 seldom finds much fault with the farm of a gentle- 
 man ; but all his sympathies are called forward at 
 seeing the miseries and wretched cimdition of the 
 Irish cottager. As far as the eye can reach, tracts 
 of ground are in the possession of these poor people, 
 ■who have nothing to lay out upon them but the 
 sweat of their limbs, extort by reiterated toil what 
 will support their families and pay their rents, but 
 are utterly unable to spare from such claims a shil- 
 ling to improvement. Persons of this description 
 make the most part of the Irish community, and, for 
 many reasons, moral and political, their ameliora- 
 tion ought to be a matter of the first concern.' This 
 is the observation of a person gontrally esteemed an 
 intelligent traveller, and there can be no doubt that 
 the amelioration of the condition of the Irish labor- 
 ing poor is a matter of prime importame. The most 
 difficult point, however, appears to bi- how to give 
 those who are capable of working, an alternative 
 from the labors of the field in manufactures, and 
 thus prevent such a pressure upon one source of in- 
 come, as must inevitably lower the prices of labor, 
 
 GLENCAIENE ABBEY. 
 
 from the multitude of applicants. One great means 
 of amelioration would be to inspire those persons 
 who compose ' the greater part of the Irish com- 
 munity' with that proper pride which would pre- 
 vent their marrying till they have the means of sup- 
 porting their w ives and children upon better fare 
 than potatoes and water. If these and a few other 
 obvious sources of amelioration were assiduously 
 toUowed up, we should no longer see immense tracts 
 of grounds wasted under inadequate cultivation, 
 and crowds of people, in whom idleness engenders 
 the propensity to turbulence, sharjiened by that 
 distress which arises from that discomfort of bad 
 dwellings, scanty clothing, and wretched fare, the 
 consequences of improvident poverty. It is much 
 to be desired that some person, thoroughly ac- 
 quainted with the subject, would point out the par- 
 ticular manufactures that, unpreoccupied by Eng- 
 land, could give support to our redundant popula- 
 tion, which has increased, is increasing, and ought 
 not to be diminished, provided it be employed. It 
 is true amongst individuals as among nations, that 
 idleness is the parent of vice, and that the only last- 
 ing cure for disturbance there, will be found in giv- 
 ing occupation to the people, and inculcating upon 
 their minds the principles of industry and right 
 notions of independence. 
 
 Employment is always preferable to gratuitous 
 assistance, because it sustains the dignity and inde- 
 pendence of the human character, and keeps alive 
 those feelings in the heart of man, which render him 
 honest and useful ; but how, will it be asked, is 
 employment to be created ? We will answer— by 
 
 WEAKING THE MANUFACTURES OF OUR OWN COUNTRY. 
 
 In whatever degree this is done, in the same pro- 
 portion will the poor be effectually relieved ; but if 
 it were univkhsally practised, poverty might not 
 disappear, but its worst consequences would vanish, 
 and the face of the country instead of being disfig- 
 ured and disgraced l.y swaims of mcdicants, would 
 assume a cheerful aspect, and that wholesome hue 
 of industry, which is indicative of naiional pros- 
 perity. 
 
 Irish linen has acquired perfection in its manufac- 
 ture. AVhy r Because it is universally worn. The 
 North exhibits an appearance as different aS light 
 and darkness, from the wretchedness of the South 
 and West, why."' because its population is employed. 
 
 Such are the effects of using as a small portion of 
 our clothing, the manufacture of our country — if it 
 was entirely composed of materials worked up by 
 our own people, those good effects would be still 
 more widely extended, and everj' part of Ireland 
 would gradually assume the grateful aspects of the 
 northern districts. ^ 
 
 If every man in Ireland determined this day to 
 wear. Irish woUen cloths, in three years that manu- 
 facture would equal anythingthat England can pro- 
 duce ; and if every woman came to the same deter- 
 mination, in the same period our cottons, cambrics, 
 etc., would be on a par, if not superior to the British 
 fabrics. That such a universal feeling should pre- 
 vail, there is little hope ; few people act upon sys- 
 tem, or feel rationally an J judiciously for the poor, 
 though they have a tear for every notel, and a half 
 penny for every street beggar ; but theie are still 
 many who judge more wisely, and act more consist- 
 ently, and they will, 'perhaps, listen to those sug- 
 gestions, and adopt them. Their example, by a _ 
 happy contagion, may, perhaps, extend itself, and 
 of this they may be assured, that wherever it pre- 
 vails, the consequences to the poor and to themselves 
 will be most fuTOrable. 
 
 That some general measure of this kind must be 
 proceeded upon, in behalf of the poor, there cannot 
 be the shadow of doubt. If there are many now 
 who suffer the penalties of indigence from the want 
 of occupation, what will be the state of the country 
 in but a few years hence, when its population may 
 be increased by a third, or eventually doubled ? 
 Are the people, according to Swift's modest pro- 
 posal, to eat one another, or to sit with their hands 
 before them, and die of want in the rags and tatters 
 of garments made in another country. 
 
 Sir Francis Blake Dblaval represented the 
 borough of Andover, in the British parliament, in 
 1771, and, it is related, he obtained his clectiou by 
 a very singular mana-uvre. He got a culvcrin, and, 
 at the time of polling, he discharged five hundred 
 guineas, which, flying among the voters, soon de- 
 termined their choice. This might literally bo 
 called bombarding the town, and taking it by sur- 
 prise. Such a 'coup dc main' would succeed at most 
 elections. 
 
102 
 
 IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 SALLV M'DONNELL. 
 
 About the beginning of the last century there 
 lived an npothocnry at the entrance of a village in 
 one of the northern counties in Ireland. His name 
 was Stewart, and he practiced medicine and surgery 
 very successfully. Owing to his triple profession 
 and economical habits, he was reputed well to pass 
 in the world, and every year added to his wealth. 
 The rear of his dwelling looked to some lields, and 
 the court-yard that belonged to it was enclosed by 
 a low wall ; yet, though unprotected, both from his 
 eituation and the state of his premises, Stewart had 
 hitherto lived in security. One uight he was, as 
 usual, attending some of his patients, when Sully 
 M'Donnell, his only servant, who on such occasions 
 attended the shop, and took care of the house, was 
 preparing to go to bed as the clock had struck 
 twelve. She knew that her master would not return 
 till morning was advanced, and she shut the shop 
 and bolted all the doors and windows, raked the 
 kitchen tire, and went into a small room that open- 
 ed from it, where she slept. She began to undress 
 herself, when she heard a noise from the rear, as if 
 some per<^on was trying to break info the kitchen 
 from the winHow ; she concealed the light from her 
 candle and listened ; the noise ceased, and was re- 
 sumed at intervals, as if the persons were fearful of 
 alarming the inhabitants ; hardly knowing what 
 she did, she seized a cleaver, and placing herself by 
 the window waited the result in silence. The at- 
 tack on the window soon recommenced — the shut- 
 ter gave way, the window frame and panes of glass 
 were broken, and two heads pushed in throiigh the 
 apcriure. Sally made blows at both with all her 
 strength, and they were withdrawn ; heavy groans 
 followed, and after a while all remained siknt. She 
 listened anxiously, expecting another attempt, but 
 none being made, she secured the broken window 
 as well as she could, by placing the kitchen table 
 upright against it and several weights, and, locking 
 the kitchen door, she repaired to the room behind 
 the shop ; here she relighted the fire, and remained 
 till Sir. Stewart's return early in the morning. She 
 related all that had passed, and said she feared 
 having seriously wounded the assailants. He ex- 
 amined the court-yard and passage through the 
 fields, and, from the traces left, agreed in her opin- 
 ion. This event caused much conversation and 
 speculation in the hitherto peaceful village. Some 
 weeks rolled away, during which Stewart made 
 every effort to discover the perpetrators of the out- 
 rage, but in vain ; an impenetrable mystery seemed 
 to hang over the transaction. 
 
 One market day, a handsome young man, of gen- 
 teel appearance, came to the shop to have a hurt 
 dressed in his hand. He paid liberally, and, as he 
 seemed uneasy about it, though Stewart did not 
 consider the injury material, he desired the stranger 
 to cull whenever he came to the village, and that he 
 would dress it. One day that the patient came 
 Stewart was otherwise engaged; and as Jones said 
 he was in haste to return home, Sally was desired 
 to attend to his hurt, nnd continued to do so ; but 
 as the wound in the hand healed by her judicious 
 management, she inflicted another by her bright 
 eyes ; her patient became in love with her. Sally 
 was pretty, and not iufcnsible to the admiration 
 she e.\cited — she returned the compliment, and fell 
 desperately in love with lur engaging patient. He 
 liroposcd marriage as s-oon as she acknowlidgrd her 
 partiality for him. She consented to make him 
 happy, and w ished to inform Stew art of the ap- 
 proaching change in her situation. 
 
 'Alas, my sweet girl," said Jone.s, 'that would 
 ruin me entiri ly ; it i» easy to see he never would 
 consent, for he intends you for himself. I have not 
 been coming here so long without finding that out.' 
 
 Sally felt that her lover had reason for his sur- 
 mises ; and she ageeed that their marriage should 
 be private. Jones told her that her master would 
 
 easily forgive her when it was over, and he saw the 
 good circumstances in which Jones was. 
 
 In the north of Ireland, runway matches were 
 considered in a less unfavorable light than in the 
 south. In Sally's class of life they frequently oc- 
 curred ; and having arranged all the necessary pre- 
 liminaries with Jones, as to where they were to be 
 married, one fine night in April ^lic stole out after 
 Stewart had retired to rest, and carefully closing the 
 hall door, proceeded on her expedition. Jones was 
 waiting for her according to appointment ; they 
 then walked down the road that ltd from the village, 
 and, cheered by the soft whispers of love, she recov- 
 ered her spirits. He had left his horse in a ruinous 
 house, and, leading him forth, placed Sally on him, 
 and then mounting before her, struck into a brisk 
 trot. After travelling for sometime, she asked, had 
 they far to go ? He replied that a few miles would 
 bring them to his friends. He soon turned off the 
 high road down a lane. Sally asked why he did 
 so. 
 
 'I prefer this short cut, as there is less danger of 
 pursuit ; who ever heard of runaways keeping to 
 the public road ?' 
 
 The rapid rate at which they travelled prevented 
 their conversing much, but Sally fancied that Jones's 
 manner was changed — his answers were short and 
 dissatisfactory; and when he laughed at her ques- 
 tions, it made her tremble — it was not like a human 
 laugh. Though the moon did not shine brightly, 
 there was sufhcient light to guide tlK-m. He now- 
 entered on a common that led to the remains of a 
 forest ; the ground became rough and rocky, much 
 encumbered with underwood, and some tine old 
 trees were scattered through it. 
 
 'Do your friends live here r' asked Sally in sur- 
 prise. 
 
 'You shall know.' 
 
 She became alarmed, and tried to get off the 
 horse ; but Jones grasped her, and with Herculean 
 strergth whisked her before him, swearing dread- 
 fully that if she did not keep quiet she never should 
 reach the ground alive, He soon afterwards alight- 
 ed, and led the horse, still holding her finnly. At 
 length he stopped and whistled — she strained her 
 eyes but could not perceive any house. The whis- 
 tle was soon answered, and a man appeared through 
 the gloom and took the bridle, telling Jones 'that 
 they had been waiting for him since nightfall.' He 
 took Sally off, and told her 'she was now near the 
 end of her journey.' She begged to know where he 
 was bringinc her, and struggled to get away. 
 
 'Come, come,' said he, 'this is soon ended ;' and 
 taking her in his arms, he carried her down a slop- 
 ing path concealed by the underwood, till a rock 
 seemed to impede his further passage ; here he let 
 Sally down, still holding her firmly, and slipped 
 behind the rock, dragging her after him through 
 so narrow a passage that none but those acquainted 
 with it could think it led to any cave. The en- 
 trance to it was so low that Jones was obliged to 
 enter on his hands and knees ; after he had passed 
 the narrow inlet, next they entered a tolerably sized 
 apartment ; a bog wood fire afforded light — some 
 women were seated around it, their fero'ious coun- 
 tenances looking still more appalling from the fitful 
 gleam cast on them. 
 
 'Here,' said Jones, bringing Sally forward, 'here 
 I have brought her to you, and a tough job I had 
 of it, sure enough.' 
 
 A yell of savage joy burst from the women, 
 and they crowded round her exclaiming, 'are you 
 come dear r' it is you that is welcome, dear ; the 
 devil will have you soon, dear ; now you shall pay 
 for the death of my brother, of my father, of my 
 husband.' 
 
 'Let me at her,' roared one, 'until I murder her 
 in style.' 
 
 'No,' said another, 'we must share and share like 
 in the job.' 
 
 'Let's think how we can worry her most,' shout- 
 ed all together, and they devised many horrid plans, 
 that made the poor girl's heart cease to beat, and 
 were going to seize her when Jones interposed. 
 
 'Softly, ladies— fair and softly is the word — is 
 Mother Beldruni here ?' 
 
 'Xo, no, noble captain, she isn't ; but what of 
 that,' bowled the rest. 
 
 'Then hands off, hands off every one of you, or 
 
 by ;' here he swore an oath that made even the 
 
 female fiends draw back. 'Vou must stop proceed- 
 ings,' resumed Jones in his usual mild manner, 'till 
 the old girl comes ; she must not be baulked of her 
 revenge.' 
 
 'Aye, aye, that is but fair, for Judy lost her only 
 son by the first blow this dearie struck.' 
 
 'Hut,' said another, ' Mother Beldrum can't re- 
 turn till past midnight at soonest, and must we wait 
 till then, noble captain ?' 
 
 'Why, I say you must,' said Jones, authorita- 
 tively : for Judy is not to be vexed nor cheated at 
 no rate — a mother's claim is always first on the list ; 
 you know the rales.' 
 
 Sally wept, begged, entreated Jones for mercy — 
 rcminded^him of the love he had professed, to lure 
 her from her home, &c. 
 
 'Love ! love !' said Jones, sneeringly — 'talk to 
 me of love, indeed — do you know who I am ■ Pretty 
 love mine is, you fool.' 
 
 She hung on him, renewing her supplications for 
 mercy. He scowled at her like a demon, and flung 
 her from him, saying she must have as much mercy 
 as she showed to others. 
 
 'Take her into your charge,' he said to the wo- 
 men ; 'I have done my part — I have performed my 
 promise — do you do therist ; but, mind, not a hair 
 of her head shall be touched till Mother Beldrum's 
 return ; and now get me my supper, for the night 
 air has made me in proper tune for it.' 
 
 One if the women approached Sally, saying, 
 'Come along, dearie.' 
 
 The poor girl followed her in silent agony. They 
 passed through a similar passage as in the entry, 
 and, after some windings, the woman stopped, laid 
 down a lamp, and unlocked a door, then opening 
 it, pushed in Sally, saying, 'Make the best of your 
 time, dear, nonee.er left -this room but to die — 
 we'll soon be coming for you.' She left the lamp, 
 then locked the door, and departed. 
 
 "What had passed at first seemed to Sally as a 
 frightful dream ; but, by degrees, her fortitude re- 
 turned, and she resolved to try for some chance of 
 escape. In this faint hope she examined fevery part 
 of her prison, and perceived a tremulous motion 
 in some of the stones that seemed to compose the 
 wall. 'Surely,' thought Sally, ' if there be any pas- 
 sage hence, it cannot be known to the present inhab- 
 itants, or I should not be left here. I cannot be 
 worse off, so come what may of it, I will try the 
 chance for my life.' 
 
 Again she felt the wall — a stone fell ; she remov- 
 ed more with as little noise as possible, and after 
 much labor succeeded in enlarging the aperture 
 sufficiently to admit her; she pushed through, and, 
 guided by the rays from the lamp she carried, pro- 
 ceeded along a winding passage of considerable ex- 
 tent, and reached the end ; here she was impeded 
 by another door- way, built up as the former ; she 
 labored hard, and had just removed sufficient to 
 permit her to get through it, when a hoirid shout 
 resounded through the windings of the cave ; urged 
 by despair, she forced through and found herself in 
 the open air. It was now nearly dark, and she ran 
 at hazard, stumbling against the rocks and over the 
 underwood : at last she was stunned bv striking 
 against the trunk of a large tree ; hardly recovered 
 from the blow, she looked back, and fancied she 
 saw light gleaming at some distance. This roused 
 her completely — she doubted not that it was from 
 the gang in pursuit. She climbed the tree, and 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 103 
 
 placed herself Bmongst the Uishest liranchcs : she 
 had hardly eflueted this when the li^lit approaehed 
 more rapidly, and she discerned the party in pur- 
 suit, carrying lanthorns, and carefully exploring the 
 underwood. As they came sufheiently near to hear 
 what was said, curses and execrations were liberally 
 bestowed both on herself and on those who had con- 
 fined her in that apartment. She distinguished the 
 voice of Jones, exclaiming, as they paused in con- 
 sultation under the tree — 
 
 'I wash my hands of it, Mother Beldrum. I 
 kna!)bed her — I brought her herr, and gave her to 
 those cursed jades that could not keep the bird in 
 the hand^so Judy, don't be bothering me — we may 
 catch her yet, woman — she can't be gone far.' 
 
 Judy broke into furious reproaches against the 
 other women, who returned her abuse, by saying 
 she deserved it all for being so close and not letting 
 them into all the in and outs of the cave. The vocal 
 storm raged more and more fiercely, and from words 
 they proceeded to 'deeds of arms.' Jones now in- 
 terposed his authority, and commanded peace, re- 
 minding the fair combatants that they were losing 
 time, and that they had better disperse and con- 
 tinue their search, that Sally must be near at 
 hand. 
 
 'But what good is in that,' said Mother Beldrum, 
 in her sharp, shrill tones, 'if she were even under 
 our feet ; there are twenty holes she could hide in, 
 and we never the wiser — so we lost pretty Peggy.' 
 'Aye,' said another, 'but if we did, she could run 
 like a deer, and had light to run too.' 
 
 'Beware,' said Jones, in an elevated tone, 'how 
 you provoke me by referring to by-gones. Search 
 away, for as the dawn comes on, we have no busi- 
 ness here. To-morrow is the fair of A , and 
 
 the cattle will soon pass. Hush, I hear a noise — 
 could they be coming already ?' 
 
 'What is worse," said Judy, 'the sky is getting 
 someways reddish — look here and there, and every 
 where for her.' 
 
 'Shall we blow out the lights ?' asked one of the 
 party — 'the light shows Tar.' 
 
 'Hush, you fool,' said Jones, 'are we not near the 
 fairy mount — they will think the fairies are dancing 
 if they see the lights, and won't like to interrupt 
 them. I only fear the cattle — they will push on 
 right a head, and the drovers must follow.' 
 
 Shortly afterwards Sally heard a distant bellow- 
 ing — it soon afterwards struck Jones.' 
 
 '-\ye,' said the robber, 'it is as I said — here are 
 the drovers. Quick, quick — search those bushes 
 and this dry dyke, and then back with us, and 
 there's an end to it.' 
 
 The search continued till the noise of the cattle 
 became so distinct that the gang feared detection, 
 and, cursing their bad luck, they went off. 
 
 Sally remained in the tree, in violent agita'ion, 
 dreading their return; but these painful moments 
 were soon ended. The dawn rapidly advanced, so 
 as to enable Sally to distinguish objects, and to her 
 great comfort, she recognized amongst the foremost 
 drovers a cousin, to whom she imparted her .situa- 
 tion, and placed herself under his care. He restor- 
 ed her to Mr. Stewart that evening, who rewarded 
 her by marriage for her sufferings in his cause. The 
 gang of freebooters quitted their retreat, and though 
 it was explored, they left no clue by which they 
 could be traced. 
 
 In childhood I have often wandered over the 
 scene of the above tale, and was shown the wreck 
 of the fine tree that had sheltered Sallv M'Donnell. 
 
 LAMMAS' FLOOD— FTINN'S ROOK. 
 
 A TRUE STOllY. 
 
 Who that has travelled the Dublin and Dcrry 
 road but must remember the picturesque little 
 town of Newtownstewart, just twenty miles from 
 Derry, with Bessy Bell hanging over it, in majestic 
 grandeur, on the one side, and the pellucid stream 
 of Mourne rolling rapidly along the other side, 
 threatening, in its circling course, to sap the founda- 
 tion, not merely of the town, but of Bessy Bell 
 herself. A little above the town are the beauSful 
 vale and glebe house of Moyle, embosomed in the 
 sombre shade of Mary Gray, and almost surround- 
 ed by the rivers Monterlony and Strool, which, 
 uniting — 
 
 *Gie a liuzzaw, 
 Wi' joy tliat they run through the bouny Ardstraw.' 
 
 The united river is thence called the Mourne, and 
 if the traveller, by coach or car, can prevail on the 
 driver to slacken pace, about three quarters of a 
 mile below the town, where the river, running 
 pretty close to the road, forces its rapid way 
 through the rocky channel, in a deep ravine of 
 about two hundred yards over, and cast his eye 
 right towards the centre of the river, rather up the 
 stream from the principal ledge of rocks, there he 
 will perceive a single stone, having nearly a cubical 
 form, and which, on account of its size and pecu- 
 liar shape, was formerly known by the sobriquet of 
 the Giant's Finger-stone, but latterly, from the cir- 
 cumstance which I am going to relate, it has becu 
 called Flinn's Kock. 
 
 To persons living in the neighborhood of moun- 
 tains, the effects of Lammas' Floods are very well 
 known. At that season the rains often come on 
 suddenly, and the mountains, coming in for a large 
 share, and having their surfaces encrusted, as it 
 were, by the summer's drought, frequently send the 
 floods down the glens with such precipitance, and 
 in such vast quantities, that the river bed, which, 
 but a few minutes before, was little more than an 
 empty channel, will present to your view, a roaring 
 torrent, filled from bank to bank; and, very often, 
 to the no small detriment of the farmer, bursting 
 its boundaries — forcing its irresistible course over 
 meadows, corn and potato fields, and bearing alon 
 on its foaming Surface the produce of the holmes 
 
 cure coils of rope, which, being done, the bridge 
 afforded a convenience for extending the rope from 
 side to side, over the i ivcr; the rope was then borne 
 along, 08 quickly as possible after Flinn, who, not 
 being a swimmer, still kept fast to the tree, some- 
 times carried to one side of the river, sometimes to 
 the other, according to the course of the stream. 
 The tree was now approaching the rocks before 
 mentioned, and the humane persons, who were hur- 
 rying to Charley's relief, were yet far behind. 
 
 Many and loud were the cries of the spectators, 
 as Flinn drew near the rocks, through which it was 
 impossible for him to pass without being dashed to 
 pieces. He was just entering on the scene of hor- 
 ror, and seemed launching into eternity, when the 
 end of the tree struck into a cleft in the Giant's 
 Finger-stone, and stood as fast as if moored by an- 
 chors. Now was the time for Charley to attempt 
 escaping from his perilous seat. He crawled along 
 the tree, and clambering up the side of the rock, 
 got himself safe on the top of it. The men bearing 
 the rope were hastening to his relief as quickly as 
 circumstances would permit, but they had still a 
 considerable way to come, and the flood was in- 
 creasing so rapidly, that there was every appear- 
 ance of the rock, on which Flinn stood, being cov- 
 ered before the rope reached him. The shores, by 
 this time, were crowded with people; some project- 
 ing schemes, some shouting to the men coming 
 down the river, and a great many offering prayers 
 to heaven for that deliverance to Flinn which no 
 exertion of theirs could effect. 
 
 At this time, Flinn himself was on his knees, 
 imploring the assistance of the Most High; and it 
 was evident, from the signs he made to the people 
 on the shore, that he was recommending himself to 
 their prayers, for, from the roaring of the flood, as 
 its waters bounded from rock to rock, not a word 
 could be heard, even by those who would speak to 
 each other on shore. The water was now dashing 
 up against his feet, and the next roll was expected 
 to carry him off, when the men succeeded in reach- 
 ing him with the rope. Signs were made to him 
 how he should act, but he could not understand 
 them. 
 
 The prospect of deliverance brightened upon him; 
 besides, the current was now tumbling over the 
 
 he 
 
 It was, I think, in the August of 1812, that Char- ro<:k. ^^<^ he could keep his place no long 
 
 - gave the rope a turn round his body, and consigned 
 
 An Athenian, who was liesiiatinR whether to 
 give his daughter in marriage to a man of worth 
 with a small fortune, or to a rich man, who had no 
 other rocommendaiion, went to consult Thcmistodes 
 on the subject. 'I would lustow my daughter,' said 
 Thcmi-tocles, 'upon a man wi,liout money, ratlicr 
 than upon money without a man.' 
 
 ley Flinn, a wheelwright, residing in the town of 
 Newtownstewart, and the subject of my story, was 
 exposed to one of the most singular adventures that 
 the history of Lammas' Floods contains. Flinn 
 had been felling trees in a wood, some distance 
 above the town,and seeing a freshet in the river, on 
 this day, he availed himself of it to float his timber 
 down to his own yard, which was convenient to the 
 strand. He had just hauled out a portion, about 
 fifty yards above the bridge, and was in the act of 
 landing a very large ti-ee, when the water, of a sud- 
 den, began to extend around him and his assist- 
 ants; and it was evident, from the dark and gloomy 
 appearance of the atmostphere, in the direction of 
 the river's source, that tliere was heavy rain in that 
 part. 
 
 The flow of waters increased, until the spot whore 
 they a few minutes before stood was occupied by a 
 fast increasing torrent. In the meantime, the tree, 
 notwithstanding the efforts of a number of men, 
 was floating down the stream, and Flinn, in order, 
 as he thought, to manage it better, threw liiraself 
 astride over it. The river was still rising very fast 
 —so much so, that poor Flinn had scarcely got 
 himself balanced on the tree, when the men were 
 no longer able to hold it, and away it floated, into 
 the middle of the stream, bearing Charley along 
 with it, in the least enviable situation imaginable. 
 
 The alarm spreading over the town, men, wo- 
 men and children were running in every direction. 
 Many plans were mentioned for rescuing Charley, 
 1 but the only one considered practicable was to pro- 
 
 himself to the mercy of the boiling surge. The 
 river here was aoou't one hundred yards over, and 
 the rock upon which Flinn had stood was consid- 
 erably towards the eastern shore; but that side be- 
 ing much rougher than the western, he chose the 
 latter, although the distance was much greater. 
 The men on that side kept pulling the rope, but no 
 trace of Charley could be observed from the time he 
 left the rock, and it was thought he had struck 
 against the bottom, and had lost his hold; however, 
 at length he rose to the surface, within about three 
 yards of the shore, but just when his friends were 
 hurrying to take hold of him, and the open arms of 
 his shrieking wife were extended to embrace him — 
 as if fate had decreed that Charley should be 
 drowned — the rope broke, and he was once more 
 sunk in the raging element. 
 
 This was the moment for acting, not thinking; as 
 the rope gave way, two men leaped into the flood; 
 one missed, the other succeeded in taking hold of 
 some part of Flinn's clothes, and, by the hold, drew 
 him ashore, but apparently lifeless. Every means 
 which could lie applied on the instant were had re- 
 course to, and, in a little time, he began to exhibit 
 signs of life, his strength gradually increased, and 
 in a few hours he was so far recovered as to be able 
 to walk home. 
 
 Clttings of Kussia leather laid in a chest 
 amongst clothes are an infallible preservative against 
 moths. 
 
104 
 
 IRISH MISCELLAjnr. 
 
 SCENERV AND TRADI- 
 TIONS or IRELAND. 
 
 Tkim is iliu n-iiizi; lown 
 
 (if tliu coiiiily of Miuth, ami 
 
 lies on the banks of the 
 
 pleasant Boyiie, a river as 
 
 lanious in Irish bistorv as 
 
 the Tiber wiu in that of the 
 
 IComan. U Is of nucicnt 
 
 date, and its castle, rugged 
 
 and mined — a relic of llic 
 
 age of iron — shows that 
 
 formerly it was a )>hue of 
 
 great importance. Indeed, 
 being within what is called 
 the ' I'alc.'and distant only 
 lwent> -two miles from 1 >ub- 
 lin, it was one of the strong- 
 holds of the Anglo-Nor- 
 mons. The castle was erect- 
 ed by the I)e Lacys, who 
 figure BO conspicuously in 
 the transactions of the |ie- 
 riod when Henry II. des- 
 poiled the monarclis of 
 Menth of tlieir possessions, 
 
 and parcelled them out, by a mere stroke of the pen, 
 among advantunr-, who had to obtain and keep pos- 
 sassion of the booty by the sword, and a stout heart 
 and strong arm. Trim belonged to the O'ilelaghlins, 
 and they were so dissatisfied with the arrnn^ienient, 
 that for centuries afterwards the 'stern alarms of war' 
 rung their horrible discord over the fruitful and beau- 
 tiful plains of Moath. The castle was the home of 
 «arriors, and, although now raDuldering in ruins, suf- 
 ficient is left to give an idea of its former almost regal 
 splendor. 
 
 The walls arc in circnmfrance four hundred and 
 eighty-six yards, defended by ten flanking towers, at 
 almost equal distances, including those of the gates, 
 one of which is in a good state of preservation, as well 
 as the arches over the ditch, and barbiton beyond it. 
 The south gate had its portcullis, the groove for which, 
 and the recess for the windlass, may still be very dis- 
 tinctly traced. This great safegu.ird of the ' Knglish 
 adventurers' was partly erected by Hugh de Lacy, the 
 constable of whom Scott has made such great u<e in 
 one of his und\ ing romances. As a soldier and states- 
 man, he was far in advance of the cge ; but, like all 
 the descendants of the roving men of the north, had 
 rather strong peculiarities on the subject of the rigrits 
 of property. This idiosyncracy provoked the hostility 
 
 TRIM CASTI.E. 
 avaricious, and, beyond all moderation, ambitious of 
 personal honor and distinction.' 
 
 However, whatever were the defects in his character, 
 his body was much esteomcd,for two Abbeys contended 
 for the honor of its possession ; and the Pope had to 
 adjust the quarrel by giving his head to one and his 
 trunk to another of the holy edifices. 
 
 The castle is not the only object ol interest, in Trim. 
 There is ' the yellow tower," part of a tall temple 
 which marks the site of a famous abbey, said to have 
 been founded by St. Patrick, and dedicated to the Vir- 
 gin. Close beside it is a small building, which, in the 
 age of chivalry, was the residence of that renowned 
 soldier Sir John Talbot, ' the scourge of France ' — 
 
 " So much feared abroad, 
 
 i the mothers still their babes." 
 
 That with h 
 About seven miles from Trim stands what remains 
 of the early dwelling place of the modern foe to France, 
 the Duke ot Wellington. The duke, who then signed 
 his name 'A. Wesley,' represented Trim in the liish 
 parliament from June, 1789, to September, 1793, but 
 seldom resided at Dangan, the family seat of the 
 VVellesleys. This mansion was sold by the Marquis 
 of Welleslcy, and being let on lease to the notorious 
 Koger O'Conner, was largely insured by him, and 
 shortly afierw.irds ' accidentially ' consumed by fire, 
 of the original possessors of the land, and; no doubt, 'ij j^ „o^ but a coUeetiou of bared and broken walls 
 was the eau.^e of his death at the hands of the assassin. ^ _^ ^„^ shell, and the demesne is completely stripped ; 
 Cambrensis describes this event in a mann;r which | ind^^j^ so extensively have been the ravages, that, 
 gives us a picture of the Anglo-Norman .«ddier in the | „.i(h ihe exception of a few stunted and very aged haw- 
 uUlitarian garb of a builder. He was giving some in- thorns, not a single tree remains of the hundreds that 
 struciions concerning the hewing of a block of timber, | flourished when the marquis and duke were boys. The 
 and, says the chronicler, 'as each man was busily oc- ' ^rj.^.^ ^f the house is inhabited by a farmer and his 
 cupied, some lading, some graving, the General also f^niily, who show the place to strangers, and veracious- 
 digging with a pick-axe, a desperate villian among : j^ ^^^^„ that on the day of the battle of Waterloo, just 
 them, whose tools the nobleman was using, espieing 'f sunrise, a great battle was fought in the air right 
 both his hands occupied, and his body inclining gy^^ Dangan House; and that, with the charg- 
 downwards, still as he stroke, watched when he so jng and struggling of men, tearing of horses, and smoke 
 stooped, and, with an exe, cleft his head in sunder, ^f t^e yuns, it was a verv terrible sight indeed. This 
 little esteeming the torments that for this traitorous legend, or rather stale co'iuiige of the brain, is not sufii- 
 act ensued.' Such was the inglorious death of the | eiomly interesting to detain a visitor very long at Dan- 
 great Hugh de Lacy, whose portrait, as given by j g^n, for the dreaiy and ghost-like appearance of the 
 Cambrensis, is not very flattering:— walls is suflicicnt to drive the most enthusiastic ad- 
 
 'He was of dark complexion, with black and deep- 1 .hirers of the ' Duke ' from the locality. We gladly 
 seated eyes, a flat nose, and his right cheek, down to 1 hastened away, and, thinking of Moore, directed our 
 his chin, sadly scarred by an accidental burn. He had \ s,^pg ,o the renowned ' Hill of Tara,' and with the 
 a short neck, and muscular and hairy chest. He was ' sweetest of melodies on our lips, found the place as 
 low, and badly made. His character was firm and described, dreary and desolate— a succession of grass 
 resolute, and he was as sober as a Frenchman. He covered mounds ; and the imagination had some 
 was always most attentive to his own business, and i djffieultv in conceiving that its owner was tread- 
 most watchful, not only over his own department, but jng on the ashes of a city. We felt with the poet 
 
 also over every thing that was to be done in common 
 Although skilled in military aflTairs, his frequent losses 
 in expeditions show that he was not lucky as a 
 general. After his wife's death he indulged in habits 
 of general profligacy. He was desirous of money, and 
 
 that — 
 
 ' The liarp that once througli Tara's 
 
 The soul of music shed, 
 Kow hunj;s ac mute on Tara's walls 
 
 As if the buul were lied.' 
 
 balls. 
 
 This poem, sparkling 
 though it be with gems of 
 thought, contributes little 
 towards convincing us of 
 the existence of the early 
 Irish ci'y to which it alludes, 
 with its palace ' 900 feet 
 bquarc, containing one hun- 
 dred and fifty apartments, 
 150 dormitories, and in 
 height 27 cubits.' A thou- 
 sand guest' sat daily down 
 to dinner, and 150 drinking 
 horns were kept in constant 
 requisition. The antiqua- 
 rian helps us out of the difB- 
 culty, and it may safely bo 
 as.-umed. we think, that 
 ' Tara ' was for ages the 
 chief Seat of the monarchs 
 of Ireland, and from thence 
 were promulgated the laws 
 that governed the country. 
 It was also the resort of 
 Druids and musicians, and 
 the great strougholds of the 
 Druid priesthood for centuries. One hundred and 
 forty two monarchs occupied its throne, and it was not 
 until 565 that it was finally abandoned as the scat of 
 monarchy. The hill was cursed by a saint, who, sailh 
 tradition, 'with a bishop that was with him, took their 
 bells which they had, which they rung hardly, and cursed 
 the king and place, and prayed God, that no king or 
 queen ever after would or could dwell in Tara, and 
 that it should be wast for ever, without court or palace, 
 as it fell out accordingly.' Druidism received its death 
 blow at the hands of St. Patrick, and the roasting of a 
 sanguine adherant to the mysteries of the oak and the 
 shade ptosiratcd it completely. This personage was 
 Lucad the Bald, and the story of his untimely end is 
 rather curious. St. Patrick, it seems, had invited him 
 to an amicable display of their respective powers, and 
 the trial water was among the number. 
 
 The legend says : 'All things being done between 
 the magician and St. Patrick, the king says to them, 
 ' cast your books into the water, and him whose books 
 shall escape uninjured, we will adore.' Patrick an- 
 swered, ' I will do so ;' but the 'magician said, ' 1 am 
 unwilling to come to the trial of water with this man, 
 because he has his water as his god ;' for he had heard 
 that baptism was given by St. Patrick with water. 
 And the king answering said, • Allow it by fire ;' and 
 Patrick said, ' I am ready ;' but the magician being • 
 unwilling, said, ' This man, alternately in each year, 
 addresses as god water and fire.' And the saint said, 
 ■ Not so ; but thou thyself shall go, and one of my boys 
 .■•hall go with thee into a separate and closed bouse, 
 and my vestment shall be on thee, and thine on him, 
 and thus together jou shall be set on lire.' And this 
 counsel was approved of, and there was a house 
 built for them, t .e half of which was made of green 
 wood, and the other half of dry ; and the magician was 
 sent into that part of the house that was green, 
 and one of the boys of St. Patrick, Binneus by name, 
 with the vest of the magician, into the dry part of the 
 honse. The house being then closed on the outside, 
 was set on fire before the whole multitude. 
 
 ' And it came to pass in that house, by the prayers 
 of Patrick, that the flames of the fire consumed the 
 magician with the green half of the house, in which the 
 garments ol St. Patrick remained untouched, because 
 the fire did not touch it. But th ■ fortunate Binneus, 
 on the contrary, together with the dry half of the house 
 according to what is said of the tUrec children, was 
 not touched by the fire ; neither was he annoyed, nor 
 did he experience any inconvenience, only the garment 
 of the magician, which he bad about bim was des- 
 troyed.' This was the ruin of Tara ; the people turned 
 Christians, and in a few more generations every vestige 
 of its existence was swept away. 
 
 ' But where we sought for IIion'6 walls, 
 The quiet thcep feeds aud the tortaise crawls.' 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 105 
 
 IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 BOSTON, SATUK1>AY, SEPTEMBER 25, 1858 
 
 CHINA AND THE WORLD. 
 
 Some fifteen years ngi>, we heard a story aoout a 
 Chinese schoolmaster. He improvised a map of the 
 world out of a pail full of water. Said he — 'Young 
 men, tlie pail represents the world in which we 
 live. The water in the pail means the Celestial 
 Empire of China. The drops on the edge of the 
 pail stand for the outside barbarian nations, such 
 as England, Spain, France and America. Young 
 men, you have here a striking representation of the 
 relative importance of China and the world.' 
 
 China has certainly regarded herself as, not only 
 precisely the first and most powerful nation on the 
 earth, but also as the nation, the empire subsisting 
 through all ages, and entitled, as a matter of course, 
 to rule the world. All other races and nations are 
 but as drops adhering temporarily to the edge of 
 the pail. Either they evaporate, or they trickle 
 down the outside, or they help to swell the column 
 of water in the pail. In any ease, they lose their 
 individuality in that of the Celestial Empire. The 
 emperor is the brother of the sun. Very few of his 
 high officers, not one of his common subjects, not 
 an outside barbarian, were he Napoleon, Francis 
 Joseph, or James Buchanan, can look upon his face 
 and live. The annals of the empire, which were 
 systematically arranged by Confucius, fill twenty- 
 seven thousand volumes. We have seen specimens 
 of these quaint volumes, huge quartos, which 
 would by modern printers be reduced to the size 
 of small duodecimos. Nor need the reader wonder 
 at the number of volumes required to tell the his- 
 tory of China in a manner satisfactory to the Ce- 
 lestials. Xt appears that the Chinese nation is now 
 nearly thirty-four thousand years old, that is, the 
 annals say so, ai'd who can dispute their testimony, 
 seeing that they were compiled about thirty thous- 
 and years after the foundation of the empire, and 
 the compiler was Confucius, the greatest, wisest 
 and best man China and the world ever saw? 
 
 One singular prop to the national pride of the 
 Celestials has been the fact that most of the scien- 
 tific inventions which have helped to make us, out- 
 side barbarians, Europeans and Americans, what 
 we are, be the same more or less, are claimed by 
 the Chinese as inventions of their own. Gunpow- 
 der was no novelty to them ; neither was the print- 
 ing press. Almost every new invention, or ma- 
 chine, got up by us, the drops on the edge of the 
 bucket, may be said by them to have been in use 
 in China for centuries. And it has not seldom 
 turned out that the boasting talk of the Chinese was 
 in some cases founded on fact. Even as the recent 
 scientific travellers in Egypt have found, as they 
 think, that Herodotus, until now called in history 
 the father of lies, told a story about Egypt which 
 may be true in the main, so modern travellers who 
 have studied Chinese and Eastern matters closely 
 say that Marco Polo's book is as reliable as Hume's 
 History of England, to say the least. 
 
 The fact, as stated, of the priority of invention, 
 on the part of the Ohinese, in many things which 
 we regard as proofs of our advanced grade of civili- 
 zation, is not wonderful. China is certainly an old 
 country, although not so old as she pretends to be, 
 and her territories are, and have been for ages, veuv 
 densely populated. Perhaps no country in the 
 world can show as much cultivation and as many 
 men to the square mile as China can. Its popula- 
 tion is so redundant that the sickly male, and the 
 female infants likely to be a burden to their parents, 
 are drowned. This is not only a common thing, 
 but it is recognized as a rightful proceeding. Cath- 
 olic missionaries in China have saved, perhaps for 
 heaven, certainly for this world, thousands upon 
 thousands ot these exposed infants. 
 
 China has also been always a self-sustaining na- 
 
 tion. She, the water filling the pail to its brim, I 
 never needed the drops that clung to the edge. As [ 
 a general rule, admitting very few e.Tceptions, for- 
 eigners, or, as they call us, outside barbarians, were [ 
 never permitted to enter China, much less to travel : 
 through the Flowery Land — another name for it — 
 with open noses, eyes and ears. A certain class of 
 strangers were tolerated in particular places at 
 stated times. These were strangers who called 
 themselves ambassadors, and who had a few ships 
 with guns, which would unluckily fire effectively. 
 Then there were Catholic missionaries who, as we 
 shall see hereafter, preached the gospel of Christ 
 even in the remotest parts of the empire, and who 
 willingly accepted a violent death, which was not 
 seldom their portion, as the full reward of their 
 labors. The Chinaman, however, was always expect- 
 ed to stay at home. Why not, seeing that it was his 
 heaven on earth? Emigration was forbidden by 
 stringent, highly penal, and, in general, pretty well 
 executed laws. A travelled Chinese could hardly 
 publish his book of travels with a reasonable de- 
 gree of safety. The rule was, that the man who 
 went out of the empire was civilly dead, so that no 
 ruffian who would rob or murder him was in dan- 
 ger of punishment. Because of the overgrown size 
 of the empire it was never so easy to enforce this 
 rule in all cases as it was in the small empire of 
 Japan, nevertheless, the rule was, down to the com- 
 mencement of the present century, carried out with 
 a degree of strictness sufficient to cause a Chinaman 
 in Europe or in America to be regarded as a curi- 
 ous being, worth staring at and looking after. Since 
 the discovery of gold on our Pacific shores, China- 
 men have ceased to cause much remark in the 
 streets of large seaport towns. This rule, then, af- 
 fecting both emigrants and immigrants, and kept 
 with fair Chinese strictness, made China and the 
 Chinese a comparatively unknown land and people 
 to us outside barbarians. China lived upon her 
 own means, quite careless, as she said, whether we 
 would or would not trade with her. If she exported 
 teas and other goods, we should pay a good price, take 
 such goods as she might choose to sell, and acknow- 
 ledge ttiat we were highly favored by her condescen- 
 sion in our regard. With the exception of opium, few 
 things of consequence were imported until of late 
 years. China was the world, and the world was Chi- 
 na. The few drops on the edge of the bucket might be 
 at times 'full of sound and fury,' but they signified 
 nothing. In the Patent Office report, published peri- 
 odically at Washington, we read that Mr. Jones has 
 invented a machine, that Mr. Smith has designed an 
 improvement in the same, that Mr. Johnson has im- 
 proved Mr. Smith's improvement, and so on to the 
 end of improvements, whatever that may be. That is 
 not because we love money better than the Chinese 
 do, but because our country is less thickly settled ; 
 the races inhabiting it are not resolved into a unit; we 
 are a new people in a new world ; we are a nation of 
 freemen, theoretically at least — perhaps too much so 
 in one sense, practically, if Judge Lynch is to be ad- 
 mitted as authority. AVe enjoy or suffer, as the case 
 may be, an almost untrammelled intercourse with 
 foreign countries, and, finally, we are of the race 
 which is dominant in the world — whether Celts, Sax- 
 ons, or Teutons, we are the children of Japhet, and 
 all history goes to confirm the prophecy that the sons 
 of Japhet shall be the rulers of the children of Shem 
 and of Ham. 
 
 In China, then, there is no Patent office, as there 
 is in Paris, London and Washington. As the tree 
 may fall, so shall it lie, saith the Bible. As the in- 
 vention may come from the hands of the inventor, 
 so let it stand, saith poor, old, cracked China. No 
 improvement can be registered, or permitted. And 
 so China and the Chinese of a ihousand years ago 
 are as nearly as possible what China and the Chi- 
 nese were twenty yeai> ago. There have been al- 
 ways good and skilful mechanics, engineers, and 
 
 other scientific men in China, but their work, once 
 done in China, for the Chinese, remained to the end 
 in its original state, so far as its conception was con- 
 cerned. Y'cars, ages passed, but the same old ma- 
 chine was used. Travellers who had the privilege 
 of cultivating a certain degree of acquaintance with 
 the Chinese would often find, to their astonishment, 
 that such things as the motive strength of powder, 
 steam, electricity and magnetism had been familiar 
 to the Chinese mind for ages. In fact, no ninth 
 day wonder from the first printing press down to the 
 feats of Signer Blitz, the juggler, or magician, could 
 be described by you to a Chinaman, without your 
 being forced to hear him say — 'O ! that is an old 
 affair — we have known all about it for many centu- 
 ries! ' The fact that Chinese inventions have fallen, al- 
 most still-born, from the brains of Chinese inven- 
 tors, and that improvement in their action is, in 
 China, reckoned as an absurdity, might be illustra- 
 ted by hundreds of example's. We will select three 
 — painting, the press, and the gun, merely glancing 
 at each topic. 
 
 You know what odd affairs the pictures on Chi- 
 na plates and dishes are. Compare them with draw- 
 ings from Egyptian and Assyrian monuments, and 
 you will be convinced that the Chinese, the Egyp- 
 tian and the AssjTrian studied under the same mas- 
 ter, and that the differences in the several styles are 
 chiefly accidental, depending upon such causes as 
 climate, religion and laws. Gcncrically, the three 
 styles sufficiently agree. The Assyrian and Eg)-p- 
 tian empires have long since disappeared, but their 
 cotemporary, China, remains yet a nation in the 
 world. The three agreed in this rule, among oth- 
 ers, — to walk in Indian file. No successor dared 
 to do otherwise than follow the footsteps of his pre- 
 decessor. And so a Chinese picture is now what it 
 
 would have been if painted ages ago. The rule is 
 
 follow rigidly the copy, or model before you, and 
 by no meansdeviateintheleast detail from the regu- 
 lations laid down no one knows how many centu- 
 ries ago, by the masters of our art. Follow your 
 predecessor, and follow copy. So, if you have your 
 portrait taken by a Chinese artist of the first class, 
 it will be a curious, if not a fine specimen of art. 
 The fidelity with which he -Hill copy every trifling 
 detail is wonderful. If your face be dirty, your 
 hair disarranged, or if there be a rent in your'^ar- 
 ments, down goes upon the canvass the deformity, 
 the dirty face, the rent in your garment, or what- 
 ever disagreeable or laughable thing may be visible 
 to the painter. 'How can we paint handsome face 
 if no handsome got ?' was the question put by a 
 Chinese artist to an enraged sitter, who beheld'his 
 own ugliness too faithfully represented in the pic- 
 ture. The answer reminds one of the retort of 
 Stuart, when a lady expressed her dissatisfaction 
 with his portrait of her not very agreeable face. 
 ' Madam,' said he, ' you have brought me a potato, 
 and you ask me to paint a peach.' The Chinese 
 artists also contrive to make you look like a China- 
 man, and that, without erring in any detail worth 
 mentioning, so far as you can see. Could a Chinese 
 painter, of the fifth century of our era, rise from the 
 dead, and take your portrait, you would not find 
 his work very different from that of the Chinese 
 artist of to-day. 
 
 As for Chinese printing, it is enough to say that 
 it is almost precisely where it was in its infancy, 
 and very far behind what a book printed in Europe 
 was one year after the invention of printing. 
 
 The Chinese gun, which looks at you so savagely 
 as you pass a fort, is not always a real gun. Like 
 the guns which Gasparoni occasionally used, when 
 he did not wish to do more than to frighten travel- 
 lers, the Chinese guns were often made of wood or 
 of paper. They made a terrible show, however, and 
 frequently answered the purpose as well as real 
 guns. And when the Cliinanian had a serviceable 
 piece, he would not mount it on a pivot or on a 
 carriage ; he would fasten it, with mortar, into a 
 stone wall, where it would point in one direction, 
 and only one. If you were exactly opposite, it 
 might hit you, if not, why, so much the better for 
 you. This old nation, then, which has endured for 
 so many ages, and which forms a connecting link 
 between our times and the old Semitic period, is 
 now, at last, open to the European and American 
 world of trade. So says the last telegraphic des- 
 patch. We have some questions thereupon, which 
 we must reserve for discussion in a future number. 
 
lOG 
 
 IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 IWrlllvii fur lilt' Irish Miscvlluiir J 
 LOUCH CON, OR O'OONNELL AND HONORA. 
 
 UV Ct>r^PKLLOK TtUUK. 
 
 J>ear l.ou);li Con's augry wavc);irt shore, 
 Mooii ISriun'ti cottage, ti'affligu lore*; 
 His well-titled lieldit and pastures rare. 
 Were young O'UonneirsooltsIaut euro; 
 or wealth he liad a goodly Himre — 
 Hut he hud nuuglit wan hulf.su luir 
 As his durliitg duughter 'Kora. 
 
 ^'or did Ibis young and rustic queen 
 KscapeU'UouDeH'B fancy dreuui— 
 lie snn her form on every hill, 
 Her voice he heard in every dell: 
 The secret u-uich he long suppressed. 
 His every deed and word conlessed— 
 He Ibved the young Uunoni. 
 
 At length, oue eve, as the setting sun 
 His gulden beams threw un Lough Con — 
 When the thrush hud sung his last wild note. 
 And the lark on his lingering wing did flout — 
 Kear the pehly shoic ihey strayed together. 
 And there, they vowed to love forever: — 
 O'Uunnell and Uunora. 
 
 Ah I I'eace and Love, how could ye dwell 
 Where tyrants vanquished, patiiuts fell? 
 To happier climes you now may soar. 
 And fur a while leave Lough Con's shore; 
 For Ireland's rights, to avenge her wrongs, 
 U'Douuell joined the rebel bands, 
 And httdo farewell to '^'oru. 
 
 liehold him, in the thick of light! 
 8ee how he handles sword or pike! 
 With force he strikes terrilic blow! 
 At every blow, a foe lies low ! 
 And though amid the crush and rattle 
 Of Killallu's sharp-fought battle, 
 He ne'er lorgets Uouora. 
 
 Kow, after many a hard-fought day. 
 
 The ranks, though not the hearts, gave way; 
 
 ^'o\v, Krin wept her valient dead. 
 
 And o'er their late her heart now bled; 
 
 Whilst the scutfold reeked with patriot's blood. 
 
 On Lough Con's shore once more they fituud — 
 
 O'Douuell and ilonora. 
 
 But hark! they hear the beating drum, 
 And random shots now reach Lough Con; 
 Haste! haste! O'LlonLell! >'ora cries; 
 Haste! ha.ste! the listening wave replies. 
 Ik'Iow my lather's boat is moored. 
 And the yeoman's liearts, ma sthorct, are heard, 
 i^uotb the gentle-hearted 'A'ura. 
 
 They quickly bend o'er the pliant oar. 
 And shape their course to the distant shore; 
 The swelling waves their oars now lash; 
 Through the maddening spray they onward dash ! 
 The wind is high, the night grows dark; 
 "i'e Fates! preserve the slender bark 
 Of 'Donnell and Houora. 
 
 The billows loud and louder roar. 
 And lightning shows the tar-olf shore; 
 The rain in torrents now descends. 
 And thunder with the lightning blends. 
 A fearful shriek! the deed is done! 
 Oh, give us back, give back. Lough Con, 
 
 O'DONNELX. AND HoNOUA. 
 
 •House of plenty. 
 
 tA term of endearment, as 'my dearest treasure.' 
 
 (Written for the Miscellany] 
 SHANOON STEEPLE. 
 Old Shandon steeple, fare thee well. 
 
 That stands erect o'er the pleasant Lee; 
 Thy stately grandeur in verse I'd tell. 
 
 Had the pleasing duty been left to me. 
 Thy lol\y spire is renown'd in pagcj^. 
 
 When* words of praise are submitted free, 
 By Father Prout. and other sages, 
 
 Extolling Shandon and the Uiver Lee. 
 What a pleasing picture the artist paiut'd; 
 
 Vcs, 'lis natiirnlly dear to me. 
 For in my boyhood I ofl'did wander. 
 
 In view ot Shandon by the Hiver Lee. 
 In the early morning thy bells are chiming 
 
 Fromthe tall tunimit of thy minaret; 
 Although I'm far o'er the wide Atlantic, 
 
 In dreams I hear their sweet sounding yet. 
 Farewell meet Shandon, with thy tow'rinp steeple, 
 
 Farewell sweet Cork, and thou pleasant Lee, 
 You lads and la.sses, and kind-hearted people. 
 
 Whose rival 'moog nations 1 cannot see. 
 
 J. H. S. H. r. 
 
 THE HAUNTED INN. 
 
 liobirt, ail iiin-koeper in a small, Hourishing 
 town on the I'pper Khiiie, Imd become rich throu};h 
 the custom which his house had for many years en- 
 joyed. All ut once, however, it fell olf; for travel- 
 lers who had been in the habit of putting; up there, 
 either avoided the place entirely, or preferred the 
 inferior accommodations of another inn. Of the 
 cause of this decline of his trade he could not long 
 remain ignorant. The fact was, that his house was 
 haunted by a ghost, and what traveller, weary with 
 his journey, would like to liave his rest bioken at 
 night by the pranks of a spectre? 
 
 Sigismund, a distant ri'lative, who had an eye on 
 the fair Kosiiia, tlie only daughter of the host, had 
 of late years been freiiuently in this house, cither 
 on visits to the family, or when traveling upon 
 business. He was accustomed always to sleep in 
 the same ro im, in the upper story; and there he 
 was destined to make the discovery, so unlucky to 
 his kinsmen, that the house was haunted. 
 
 One night, when all the family had retired to bed, 
 and were in their first sleep, Sigismund was roused 
 by the spectre. Almost beside himself with terror, 
 he rushed out in his shirt, ready to break his neck, 
 down stairs, and called up the master of the house. 
 It was not without great difficulty that llobcrt 
 could draw from him an e.xphmatfou respecting the 
 nature of the circumstance that had thrown him 
 into such a vehement alarm. Having at length 
 somewhat recovered from tlie fright occasioned by 
 the apparition, he gave the landlord the following 
 account: — 
 
 'I was fast asleep, when a white, deathlike figure 
 opened my door, which I had locked before I went 
 to bed. The noise awoke me. The spectre had a 
 bunch of keys in one hand, and in the other a lamp 
 which gave but a feeble light. It walked past my 
 bed, paced the room several times, then set the lamp 
 down on the table, and slipped into bed to me. I 
 endeavored to cry out, but could not. Fear and 
 horror paralysed my senses. God knows how 1 got 
 out of bed without falling a prey to the hideous ap- 
 parition.' 
 
 The trembling Robert awoke his people, and after 
 maturely considering the pros and cons, he ven- 
 tured, in their company and well armed, to ap- 
 proach the haunted chamber. He found the door 
 fast; Sigisniund, as far as he could recollect, had 
 pulled it after him, that the ghost might have less 
 chance of overtaking him in his flight. As he had 
 taken out the key of the door after locking it when 
 he went to bed, and laid it on the table by his bed- 
 side, it was found necessary to fetch the master-key 
 before they could gain admission. This was ac- 
 cordingly done, and all eyes looked round for the 
 spectre, but in vain — it was gone. Sigisraund, 
 however, dur.st not resume possession of his desert- 
 ed bed for the remainder of the night. . 
 
 llobert could not tell what to think of the story 
 of his kinsman. He was too well acquainted with 
 his character to suspect that he was playing off a 
 hoa.x; he knew, too, that he was not a greater cow- 
 ard than himself; he had, therefore, no just cause 
 to doubt the accuracy of his statement. At the 
 same time, he was vexed when he reflected that the 
 spectre niight think tit to return; his house would, 
 in consequence, get a bad name, and his business 
 might be ruined. In spite, then, of his excessive 
 fear of ghosts, as there was a possibility of delusion, 
 he deemed it incumbent on him to investigate the 
 matter more closely. To this end he repaired, the 
 following night, accompanied by Peter, the most 
 trusty of his people, well armed, to the haunted 
 chamber. He assigned to Peter the post of danger 
 and honor by the door, while he h.mself took pos- 
 session of an easy chair, at the remotest corner of 
 the room. The great house-lantern, containing a 
 liglited candle, was placed on the table. 
 
 Long did they they thus wait ia vain for the visit of 
 
 I ihe spectre. Both of ihein found it difllciilt to keep 
 their eyes open, and nothing hut t c hnpposcd danger 
 of their enterprise furnished them with unusual powers 
 of vigilance. Sleep, nevertheless, began to exercise its 
 despotic sway over the landlord. lie could not help 
 nodding, and it was but no* and then, and with inco- 
 herent words, that he answered tlic observations ad- 
 dressed to him by Peter. The latter, meanwliile.hcard, 
 as he| thought, so'iiething coming up stairs , and 
 imagined that lie could diaiinguish soft steps. » 
 
 The ill. ct on his sleepy senses was powviful and in- 
 stantaneous. He gave his master notice of the im- 
 pending atuick. Sleep, however, had completely over- 
 powered the landloid, and, unilcr these eircamslanecs, 
 Peter deem d hiinslf justifled in leaving his p.ist, and 
 rousing his master by no very gentle shake to the con- 
 flict. Boih trembling, drew their cutlasses, and took 
 post behind the arm-chair. The spectre was already 
 at the door, and the bunch of keys which it carried 
 rattled like chains. The door opened, and the fignre 
 of a living corpse presented itself. It was covered 
 from head to foot by a white shroud, walked twice 
 round the room, and then glided, with a deep sigh, into 
 the bed. 
 
 Glad to see the coast thus far clear, Hohcrt seized 
 the lantern and made a pn cipitatc retreat down stairs, 
 not only leaving his arms in the possession of the ene- 
 my, but, in his haste, dashed the lantern wiih such 
 force against the balusters that it was shattered to 
 pieces. 
 
 Peter, who, at the first appearance of the speclic, 
 had squeezed his eyes together, and in his (right com- 
 mended his soul to all the saints, had meanwhile sunk 
 on the floor behind the trm-chair. He saw nothing, 
 heard but little of what was passing about hira, and 
 awaited his fate with patient resignaiion. The crash 
 of the lantern, wliieli should have recalled his senses, 
 only served to increase his siupef.iciion. 
 
 Robert hurried bark to bid, wi bout undressing, and 
 covered himself over he.id and ears with the clothes, 
 so low had his courage fallen after its late excitement. 
 Next morning, at a very early hour, he called up his 
 servants and family, and eagerly inquired how poor 
 Peter was; but no one had seen or heard anything of 
 him since the preceding night. 
 
 The cheering light of day, which dispels fear, and 
 restores courage to the fiiint-hcarted, once more raised 
 Robert's spirits. Accompanied by his people, he weilt 
 in quest of his lost attendant, to the place where he 
 had left hira. Peter, probably fatigued and exhausted 
 with terror, had sunk into the arms of bis kind deliv- 
 erer, sleep, and lay snoring at full lenctli on the floor 
 behind the arm-chair. His good-natured master re- 
 joiced sincerely at this sight, for he was sorely afraid 
 lest the spectre had bodily carried ofli' the poor fel- 
 low. 
 
 The adventure of the night was soon known to all 
 the towns-folk. The more sensible of them laughed 
 heartily at the landlord's absurd conduct, and called 
 him a stujiid, supcrsiitious, chicken-hearted coward. 
 This language soon reached his ears, and vexed him 
 to such a degree, that he rapaired immediately to the 
 burgomas'er of the town, to make aftiJavit of the par- 
 ticulars of the affair. At the same time he requested 
 the magistrate to take measures for ascer aining the 
 reality of the apparition, and the truth of his superna- 
 t ir^kl adventure, for in no other way could iic retrieve 
 his lost honor in the estimation of the incredulous 
 public. 
 
 The mngistraic complied with his request, and the 
 lown-serjeant was sent for, with four courageous fel- 
 lows, to pass the next nigh' in the haunted cliamher. 
 Whether the spirit deemed its opponents in this in- 
 stance too formidable, or whether it had actually de- 
 camped, so much is certain, that it did not think fit to 
 show itself to the party which was anxious for its ap- 
 pearance. The men repaired to their post the two 
 succeeding nights, but the obstinate ghost was not to 
 be seen. 
 
 Robert had thus put himself to a useless expense, 
 and, if he had previously been the talk ol the whole 
 town, he now became the butt of general ridicule. 
 
Iinsn MISCELLANY. 
 
 107 
 
 It WHS not long liet'oro Sigisniund, in conipiiny with 
 a tViunil, ncnin piisscii ilirou(;h the phice. He wiis in- 
 fvirmert ihiu tlie .'■lu'cire, which hail once given him 
 Biich appiillind evidence of its existence, hiul since ter- 
 rified the hmdhird iind Peier almost out of iheir lives, 
 and resolved not to sleep i\ny more at his kinsman's. 
 The courteous soliiitations of the fair Hosinti, how- 
 ever, hud (jreat itifluenee over him; he could not re- 
 fuse her invitation, and ventured once more to lodfjo 
 under the same roof with her, hut only on the express 
 condition that he should not lie in the haunted cham- 
 ber. 
 
 His friend and fellow-traveler was of a different way 
 ot ihinkiiiy;. Desirous of an interview with a ghost, 
 he irsistcd on having a bed prepared for him iu the 
 very room which ihe spirit had been a<'Customtd 
 to vi-;it. The landlord was not a little gratified to 
 think that he had at last met with a person willing to 
 avenge, as he termed it, ihe honor of his house. 
 
 Sigismnnd's friend took his measures with coolness 
 and deliberation. He placed on the talile by his bed a 
 brace of loaded pistols, provided himself with a couple 
 of candles, in addition to the night-lamp, went to bed 
 unconcerned, slept soundly, and awoke next morning 
 without hearing or seeing anything of a spirit. He 
 did not fail to impress upon the mind of his compan- 
 ion the silliness of the fear of apparitions, and begj^ed 
 him, as a friend, to bear him company the following 
 night, that he might not appear a coward in the eyes of 
 his Rijsina. 
 
 Sigismund, sensible that his friend's exhortations 
 ■were well-meant, plucked up a spirit and repaired with 
 him at bedti'ne to his former chamber. All the in- 
 mates of the house had retired to rest, and not a sound 
 disturbed the midnight silence. All at once, faint 
 steps were heard ascending the stairs, and slowly ap- 
 proaching nearer and nearer to the room. The same 
 pale spectre, dressed in white, which had terrified him 
 once before, again made its appearance. Sigismund, 
 overwhelmed with horror, never thought of the pistols, 
 which I'ly near the bed, but again sought safety in 
 flight, leaving his friend to cope by himself with the 
 ghost. 
 
 His fellow-traveller, though not a little startled, 
 closely watched the apparition. It approached him ; 
 and he could not help shuddering when he saw it pre- 
 paring to get into bed to him ; he sprung out, and had 
 a uood mind not only to quit that, but, like Sigis- 
 mund to abandon the Held altogether. On second 
 thought, however, he mus'ered courage, seized a pis- 
 tol in one hand and a candle in the other, drew back a 
 little, and thus awaited what was to happen. 
 
 The ghost seemed to take no notice of its armed an- 
 tagoni.-i; but so much the more closely did ho watch 
 the apparition. It seemtd to be of the female sex, to 
 judge from the bosom, whi"h was not very carefully 
 covered, lie approached nearer to the bed, on which 
 the unwelcome visitor lay most quietly, and scrutiniz- 
 ed his features. His terror gradually subsided and 
 ceased to bewilder his senses. Heavens ! how agree- 
 ably was he surprised, to recognise in the slumbering 
 figure the lovely Rosina I For fear of disturbing the 
 fair night-walker, he durst not, though strongly tempt- 
 ed, steal a single kiss, but softly quitted to room to call 
 her parents and his friend. 
 
 None of them, however, was in any hurry to obey 
 the«ummons. The jocose and confident manner in 
 which their guest spoke of his di>covery, and a wotd 
 which he whispered in the car of the landlady, induc- 
 ed the latter to follow him alone to the haunted cham- 
 ber, for the purpose of ascertaining the nature of the 
 roctuinal apparition. Ashamed to be surpassed in 
 courage by a woman, Robert and Sigismund could not 
 stay behind. They sneaked after the advanced guard, 
 and before they ventured to go into the chamber, cau- 
 tiously peeped in at the door, while the mother's eyes 
 had been for some time fondly fixed on her darling. 
 She knew from former experience that Ro>ina had a 
 predisposition to walking in her sleep, and she was 
 too thoroughly convinced ot her virtue and innocence 
 to attribute her being in such a situation to any other 
 cause than that singular disorder. 
 
 It Wiis long before hfr timid spouse would trus 
 cither the assurances of his better-half or his own 
 senses, till at last Rosma herself furiii.-hed evidence 
 too strong to be resisted. She quitted the bed with 
 her eyes shut, took up the night-lamp which had gone 
 out, and walked through the astonished company, who 
 made way for her, out of the room. They followed 
 her in 8ilence,bccause they had cither not had sufficient 
 presence of mind to wake her at first, or because they 
 wishcil to spare her the embarrassment of so awkward 
 a situation. 
 
 She found the way down stairs, without once trip- 
 ping, to her chamber. All retirect again to rest, and 
 Sigismund, in particular, resumed the place which his 
 Rosina had occupied with very different feelings from 
 those which he had left it. The inference which he drew 
 in regard to her sentiments towards him fiom her be- 
 haviour in the liveliest of all dreams, could not but be 
 exceedingly flattering to him. Nothing, therefore, 
 could prevent him next morning from making Rosina a 
 formal offer of his hand, and explaining to her pa- 
 rents his further views. They had little to object, and 
 the heart of Rosina still less. 
 
 Thus the horror and apprehensions of a supernatu- 
 ral visitation terminated in a joyous wedding, which 
 was CBHsummatcd in the same chamber where the in- 
 nocent Rosina had twice filled her lover with inexpres- 
 sible alarm. 
 
 Giants — The belief in the existence of giants ap- 
 pears to have been founded upon so many seeming 
 evidences of authority, that, iu the fondness of man 
 for wonders, it is not surprising that he has, nearly to 
 our own times, entertained this fallacy. First among 
 the circumstances which have fostered this belief, is 
 the very common opinion that, in the earliest ages of 
 the world, men were of greater stature than at pre- 
 sent. Pliny observes of the human height (vii. 16) 
 that "the whole race of mankind is daily becoming 
 smaller," a most alarming prospect if it had been true. 
 But all the statements made on this subject tend to 
 convince us that the human form has not degenerated, 
 and that men of the present age are of the same sta- 
 ture as in the beginning of the world. In the first 
 place, though we read in sacred and profane history 
 of giants, yet they were, at the time of their existence, 
 esteemed as wonders, and far above the ordinary pro- 
 portions of mankind. All the remains of the human 
 bodv, as bones, and particularly the teeth, which have 
 been found unchanged in the most ancient ruins and 
 burial places, demonstrate this point clearly. The 
 oldest coffin, or rather sarcophagus, in the world, is 
 that found in the great pyramid of Egypt, and is 
 scarcely six feet and a half long. From looking also 
 at the height of mummies whith have been brought to 
 this country, we must conclude that the people who 
 inhabited Egypt two or three thousand years ago 
 were not superior in size to the present inhabitants of 
 that country. Neither do the inferences from the 
 finding of ancient armour, as helmets or breast plates, 
 or from buildings designed for the abode and accom- 
 modation of men, concur m strengthening the proofs 
 of any diminution of stature in man. 
 
 Passing over the fables of the giants of profane his- 
 tory, we come to their mention in scripture before the 
 Flood, in "the sixth chapter of Genesis, vi. 4 — "there 
 were giants in the earth in those days" — where, the 
 Hebrew word ' ncphilini ' does not signify giants, as 
 commonly translated, but violent men. Some think 
 that instead of giants in stature, monsters of rapine 
 and wickedness were intended to be represented, and 
 Dr. Johnson says that the idea of a giant is always 
 associated with something fierce, brutal and wicked. 
 The context in the next verse that ' the wickedness of 
 man was great in the earth,' renders the above inter- 
 pretation more probable than any in relation to the 
 stature of man. In the thirteenth chapter ot number 
 v. 3^, the reference to ' the giants, the sons of Anak, 
 which came of the giants,' implies the family of 
 Anakim to have been of great stature, and the con- 
 text states circumstances of comparison, in the people 
 
 being as grass-hoppers in Iheir sight ; still, the fears of 
 the spies may have ningnilied the dimensions of this 
 family into the gigantic. 
 
 The notion of the existence of giants formerly ha.s 
 also, in many instances, been founded on the disi overy 
 of the bones of ditferent large animals belonging to 
 extinct species, which have been ascribed to human 
 subjects of extraordinary stature. The bones of an 
 elephant have even been iigurtd atid desciibed by 
 Burton as remains of human giants, in the supple- 
 ment to his classical work. The extravagance of such 
 suppositions have been completely exposed by geolo- 
 gists, and the supposed fossil remains of gigantic 
 human bones are ))roved to have belonged to the 
 ' Megiitherium ' and ' Paloetnerium,' and other indivi- 
 duals, which certainly proves that in remote ages there 
 existed animals of much larger dimensions than any 
 now in being, though we have no reason to suppose 
 that the variety extended to our own species. 
 
 In more modern times the belief in giants has been 
 fostered by the exaggerated accounts of the colossal 
 stature of the Patagonians, such as have been already 
 explained. Blumenbach observes : — ' The supposed 
 Patagonian giants have sunk, in the relations of tra- 
 vellers from Magalheens' time down to our own, from 
 twelve feet to seven feet, and, at best, are little taller 
 than any other men of good stature.' 
 
 The practice of associating certain stupendous 
 phenomena of nature with giants has, doubtless, 
 strengthened belief in them, especially in the minds 
 of the young; the 'Giant's Causeway' in Antrim is 
 an example. Indeed, the majority of such phenom- 
 ena, which strike the beholder with their magni- 
 tude, have been referred by ignorant persons to 
 giants, or 'the devil.' Such are the 'Devil's Punch- 
 bowl' in Hampshire; 'the Devil's Arrows,' in York- 
 shire; and the 'Devil's Jumps,' a conspicuous group 
 of barren and somewhat conical hills in Surrey, 
 apparently the remaining portion of a stratum of 
 sand, reduced by abrasion to their present irregu- 
 lar form. Cromlechs, and other huge stones, and 
 Barrows, or the burial-places of heroes, and even 
 Stonehenge itself, have probably caused the exist- 
 ence of giants to linger in the minds of weak per- 
 sons, until an acquaintance with geology has en- 
 abled them to trace these phenomena to natural 
 causes. 
 
 Coleridge has oppositely exposed the fallacy of 
 the belief in giants, by imagining a traveller in sonve 
 unpeopled part of America, to be attracted to the 
 mountain burial-place of one of the primitive in- 
 habitants. He digs into it, and finds that it con- 
 tains the bones of a man of mighty stature; and he 
 is tempted to give way to the belief, that as there 
 were giants in those days, so all men were giants. 
 But, a second and wiser thought may suggest to 
 him, that this tomb would never have forced itself 
 upon his notice if it had not contained a body that 
 was distinguished from others — that of a man who 
 had been selected as a chieftain or ruler for the very 
 reson that he surpassed the rest of his tribe in sta- 
 ture, and who now lies thus conspicuously inhumed 
 upon the m"untain-top, while the bones of his fol- 
 lowers are laid unobtrusively together in the plain 
 below. 
 
 The best account of giants, at once scientific and 
 popular, that we have seen, will be found in Jame- 
 son's Journal, 18.5.'?. It is by the eminent natural- 
 ist M. GeofFroy St. Hilaire, and e.\tcnds to nearly 
 fifty pages of the above journal. 
 
 Nothing to Do.— Idleness is fatal to longevity, as 
 proved by returns concerning classes who are not sol- 
 diers. At the age of thirty, an agricultual laborer may 
 expect to live forty-one and a half years longei^; a no- 
 bleman, the lord of parks and broad acres, only thirty- 
 one years! The laborer is commonly badly lodged 
 and poorly fed; but he works, and works every day; 
 the nobleman rarely does anything that Can be digni- 
 fied with the name of work — hence he dies of ennui 
 and self-indulgence. — Chambers. 
 
108 
 
 IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 (n'rllteu for tliB Mii-cellaiiy 1 
 
 NOTES FROM A JOURNAL. 
 
 lir J. li. r. 
 
 No. 12— Adaiv, aud Abhefuale Loilgiags. 
 
 Ilavint; finished our riiiul)les in Cliirc, w<! onco 
 morv took our plaoes on ilio imiil-ioach, and early in 
 the afiernoon we found ourselves aj;aiQ in Limeriek. 
 Tlio ciiy at present is lull of stningers, and iho streets 
 at eve present a basy and animated aiipeiirance. Lim- 
 erick is noted for its beautiful women and beautiful 
 laeo, and certainly it is justly so in rojjard to the for- 
 mer; but I am not so good a julgool tlie latter. 
 
 The next morning, wo got on board the train for 
 Adarc, nine miles from the city, and in less than half an 
 hour we were in the center of that pretty town. I'ro- 
 turiiig a pass from ' mine host" of the Uunraven Arms 
 Hotel to cater the demesne of the Earl of Dunriivcn, 
 we presented it at the porter's lodge, and were at ouco 
 admitted within the gate. Our first visit was to the 
 ruins of the Franciscan Abbey, which are altogether 
 dilJerent from any we have ever yet visited, being di- 
 vided into cells or tompartniciits, and nil decorated 
 with ornamented stone sculpture. We then crossed 
 the demesne, and entered the castle of the Earl of 
 Desmond, the last of the noble race of Fitz;,'eralds. 
 Well might the poet D.ivis, in describing the ancient 
 glory of the Geraldines, exclaim : — 
 
 'What gorgeous shrines, what brcbon lore, 
 
 Wliat minstrel feasts there were. 
 In uiid arouud Mii> nooth's gray keep. 
 And palace-tilled Ai^.vRi:!' 
 
 Wc asccniled to the top of this castle, not by the an- 
 cient staircase by which the Desmonds were worn to 
 ascend, hnt one of later years, which the present Eurl 
 of Dunravon has built for the accommodation of visi- 
 tors. His estate has no less than six old ruins upon 
 it, and upon one of these the Catholic Church is built, 
 and the I'rote>taiit upon another. 
 
 The Earl's own house is certainly a splendid build- 
 ing, built of the most beautiful cut stone, and sliaped 
 into turrets and towers innamerablo. There is an in- 
 scription running the full length of the front of the 
 building in text letters of cut stone, as follows : 'Ex- 
 cept the L>,rd build the hou.sc, tlie labor is but lost of 
 those that baild it.' Tiicre are also various other in- 
 scriptions on diflfcreat parts of the building, among 
 which are the following : 'Love God only.' 'Honor 
 and Obey the Queen.' ' Eschew evil and do gool.' 
 'This goodlv house was erected by William Henry, 
 Earl of Dunraven,and Caroline, his Countess, without 
 borrowing, selling, or leaving a debt.' 
 
 Leaving the demesne, and not feeling fatigned, we 
 started tor Rtitlikeale, six miles firther on. This is a 
 stirring town, with about four thousand inhabitants. 
 After dining here, we pushed on to Newcastle, some 
 six or eight miles distant. At our entrance into this 
 town, we met some of the fair sox belonging to upper 
 tendom, whose amplitude was as great as the most 
 fashionable belles of Washington street, Boston, a.s 
 'hoops' had been carried to Newcastle. There was a 
 crowd in the town, it being a fair day, and it was more 
 difficult to get through the streets than it would be to 
 push through 'crinoline,' many of the men seemingly 
 having a mortgage on both sides of the town, and con- 
 tinually walking from one side to the other, yet keep- 
 ing on the road homewards. 
 
 About a mile outside the town, as two men were 
 walking arm-in-arm, and profes.-ing eternal friendship 
 to one another, they became warm over some trifling 
 dispute, and soon talked of settling it by an appeal to 
 their blackthorns. Other persons coming along, en- 
 deavored to prevent them, but they being unsuccessful, 
 took sides in the 'scrimmage.' Now commenced the 
 fight in earnest, and such a one I never want to see 
 again. Each man was provided with a shillelah, which 
 they brought dowu with telling fjrcc upon one another, 
 seemingly not caring whether friends or foes, for I 
 noticed that the two who first commenced it were both 
 beating one man, and then one another. We, not rel- 
 ishiug such amuseinents, doubled our pace up the 
 mouatain road, but not until six men passed lu, hotly 
 
 parsuad by the police. The men who passed us were 
 more or less iiivered with blood, one of whom was an 
 old man upwards o( Ci) years, who was hardly able to 
 walk from los'^ of blood, and was at last obliged to take 
 refuge in a cabin by the roadside. 
 
 We were soon on the side of the inounlnin, and 
 night fast closing around us. The road was a dreary 
 one. Oil our right was a valley of hog land, from 
 whence a thick mist was arising, illuinloated occasion- 
 ally by some ignus fatus, or 'Will o" the Wisp,' and on 
 our left, the bleak mountain. There was scarcely a 
 house to be seen, and wo kept vainly endeavoring to 
 pierce the darkness in search of a friendly light, to as- 
 certain our distaftce from Abbeyfeale, where we intend- 
 ed to stop for the night. 
 
 Discerning one at last, we inquired the distance to 
 the town, and asked for a drink. Two bowls of milk 
 were given to us, but whether by man, woman or child, 
 we could not tell, and when we olVoreil money it was 
 refused by a sturdy 'No!' The light was extinguish- 
 ed when we knocked at the door, and a little urchin 
 was sent to the cross roads to show us the way, who 
 told us it was yet three miles to Abbeyfeale, and it 
 was midnight ere we reach eii it. 
 
 A travelling theatrical company having pitched 
 their tent in the center of the town, we went thither, 
 and inquired of a man in the crowd for a hotel. He 
 went with us to it, where we knocked loud and long, 
 until at last a gruff voice bawled out through the key- 
 liole — 'What do you want t' Wc modestly answered, 
 •A night's lodging.' The gruff voice exclaimed — 'All 
 full I' and then went off muttering something about 
 being called out of bed at this hour of the night. The 
 man who directed us here then brought us across the 
 ■street, and roared out, in a voice loud enough to be 
 heard all over town, we thought, — 'Paddy Neil ! Pad- 
 dy Neil! the.e's two gintlomin from Limerick here 
 who wants a bed.' Somebody with a red nightcap on 
 (Paddy, I suppose,) put his head out a window and 
 said : 'Divil a bed is there in the house; they are all 
 full!' The prospect was beautiful; midnight, pitch- 
 dark, no lodging fo be had, and the next town ten 
 miles off. The man thought ic was too bad ; and we 
 thought so too, remembering our grave-yard adven- 
 ture, and fearing something like a repetition. 
 
 He finally brought us to a little cabin (we would go 
 almost anywhere), and rousing the inmates, who came 
 pcerin'^ at us in their night-gear, made them get a bed 
 ready. Afier htilf an hour's delay, an old woman 
 ushered us up a ladder into a dingy room with six 
 beds in it, and then left us to giope our way to bed by 
 the flickering light of a piece of bogdeal. Dirty as the 
 room looked, our bed was scrupulously clean, and after 
 fervently recommending ourselves to Providence, we 
 lay down. The actors playing Hamlet kept me awake 
 some time, and one of them just said — 'I am thy fa- 
 ther's spirit !' when some one took hold of me and 
 told me to move over. Thinking it was my compan- 
 ion, I obliged him, when I heard the same voice tell 
 him to 'move over.' I now became alarmed, and ask- 
 ed the 'spirit' what he wanted. He replied, by asking 
 me if I was his brother ? Not being aware sf having 
 one, I told him no ; but that my other bedfellow and 1 
 were travellers, and had stopped at this 'hotel' for the 
 night. The fellow then sloped, and visions ol throats 
 cot from ear to ear vanished, to revisit us only in our 
 dreams that night. 
 
 Lowell, Sept 14, I8.'58. 
 To the Editor of the Irish Miscellany : — 
 
 Your neat piper is eagerly read each week by nu- 
 merous subscribers in Spindledom, and it is the wish 
 of all that jou may meet with complete success in 
 your endcaiors to ph asc your patrons The' congre- 
 [ gallon of St. Patrick's Catholic Church lately went on 
 I an excursion to Harmony Grove, Westford, aicom- 
 ' panied by their good pastor. Rev Mr. O'Brien, and 
 j the aff.iir passed off satisfactorily, the net proceeds 
 being over S.300, which is to be devoted to charitable 
 purposes. The management of the picnic was en- 
 trusted to the Mathew Institute, and the reverend gen- 
 I tleman highly complimented them on their success in 
 
 currying it out, which certainly was no easy task, the 
 party iiumhering abi ve fifteen hundred, being the 
 largest picnic that eve left this city. 
 
 The Mathew Insti ute is n society formed at the 
 time of Pather Mathew's visit to this city, and has 
 sent forth since, lawy rs, clergymen, and orators. It 
 numbers among its ranks some of the leading young 
 men of the city, who have dashed forever the wine-cup 
 from their lips, and become disciples of the Apostle of 
 Temperance. They have a good library, and are add- 
 ing to it constantly. The Institute, at its semi-annual 
 election I'ist week, elected the following officers: — 
 President, James Marren; Vice President, A. JF. An- 
 derson; Clerk, Owen Morris; Collector, Thos. Cos- 
 tcllo; Treasurer, Cornelius Driscoll; Librarian, James 
 Barry; Cor. Secretary, Edward Oatcs; Trustees, F. 
 M'Anulty, G B. Lang, J. E. Fitzgerald, James Daf- 
 fy, Frank Haviland. Yours, &c , Gerjildinb. 
 
 Thiv OitjECT OF Queen Victoiiia's Visit to 
 Beui.ix. — A precious bit of scandal is going the 
 rounds in England. It is said that the object of 
 (Jucon Victoria's visit to Prussia was to try the in- 
 fluence of her presence in appeasing the storms that 
 have disturbed the peace of the young couple united 
 but eight months ago I 
 
 Nor, says rumor, are these conjugal tiffs merely 
 light breezes that create a momentary ripple on the 
 surface of the waters, but perfect liurricanes, scat- 
 tering destruction and ruin. The young Prince, who 
 had, as it was formerly reported, been as really in 
 love with the English Princess for two years before 
 he married, as though he had a right to make a love- 
 match, now carries his antipathy to as great an ex- 
 treme — the quarrels they have together are so fierce, 
 that the Princess is said to have complained to her 
 mother of personal ill-treatment. This rumor is 
 treate<l with derision by those who judge from the 
 behavior of the Prince and Princess in public by their 
 smiling looks. The Princess, when a child, was noted 
 for a spirit of obstinacy and contradiction of no or- 
 dinary stamp, and which, if it has not since been 
 checked, may be the cause of unhappincss to herself 
 and those around her. There used to be a little an- 
 ecdote extant, that fully illustrated her childish dis- 
 position. She was reprimanded one day by the 
 Queen for addressing Mr. Brown, the apothecary to 
 the royal family, witliout the title of Mr. The 
 Princess took no notice of the reproof, but continued 
 to do so, on which her mother told her if she again 
 did it, she should be sent to bed. The next time 
 the apothecary made his appearance in the nursery, 
 the Princess said, 'Good morning. Brown, and good 
 evening, too, Brown, for I'm going to bed. Brown !' 
 This is very childish, but .shows what was the 
 natural temper of little Miss Absolute. 
 
 Tbk East India Companv. — An evenj of some 
 importance in the history of Great Britain, and indeed 
 in the history of the world, has just transpired, viz : 
 the political death of the great East India Company. 
 Henceforth the crown will be supreme in the govern- 
 ment of India, and the house in Leadenhall sTeet will 
 'shrivel into an association of receivers of dividends.' 
 'Thi-: day,' says the London Times of September 1st., 
 'will have a place in chronologies for another great 
 event, but one which might almost have slipped from 
 notice, for it looks to the past. To-day the East India 
 Company ceases to htdd a place among stales and sov- 
 ereignties. Like the many princes whom it has de- 
 posed from power, and left in ihe enjoyment of lr< ve- 
 nues and titles, it has long been deprived of aetunl do- 
 minion. The company has only a name and an in- 
 come; or, only adding to those what India herself 
 supplied to her conquerors — the modest officers of in- 
 formation and advice. But, as the Great Mogul no 
 longer exists, even in name, the East India Company 
 has now wholly ceased from political existence. This 
 d.-iy Queen Victoria becomes the sovereign of India, • 
 without any fiction of tradition of the past coming 
 between her and her just titles.' 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 109 
 
 Biography op Paul Morput.— Paul Morphy is 
 a niilivc of tlio city of Now Orleans, and was educated 
 at Spring Uil! Cottage, nc.ir Moliile, Alabama. His 
 father was boiu in (.Itiarleston, Sontli Carolina, of 
 Spanish parents, and became >ine of tiic most eminent 
 Judges of the Suprenc Coun nf rli- Stato nf Louisiana. 
 UuiteJ to a French CreoU' la>lj of the latter State, the 
 subject of our sketch was born on the 22d June, IS.')? ; 
 and at the early age of ten years, learned the moves 
 of chess from his father, at his own earnest solicitation. 
 The family of Morphy has long been known in the 
 South and West of the Republic, for the eminence of 
 its members in tlie mysteries of Caissa ; and foremost 
 among them stood the uncle of our hero, Mr. Ernest 
 Morphy. This gentleman is of equal strength with 
 Mr. Rosseau of New Orleans, who has, for many years, 
 been a frequent visitor at the leading clubs of Loudon 
 and the Continent. At a very early age, young 
 Paul had played some hundred games with his 
 uncle, and about half as many with Mr. Ronssea, al- 
 most all the games towards the last being won by their 
 youthful opponent. Whilst still a mere boy, he play- 
 ed 30 games with Mr. James M'Connell, winning all 
 bat one, and on the 22d and 25th of May, 1850 (not 
 yet 13 years of agej, he encountered the celebrated 
 Hungarian, Herr Lowenthal, the result being in some 
 measure, no doubt, owing to Mr. L's underrating his 
 youngantagonist, Morphy, 2 ; Lowenthal, ; drawn, 1. 
 It is not unfair to suppose that the desire to wipe out 
 this defeat, had something to do with Herr Lowenthal's 
 challenging his youthful victor in the match pending. 
 For several years past, Mr. Morphy had only played 
 with amateurs, to whom he gave the rook or knight — 
 odds in which, from his brilliant style ot play^ probably 
 no one living can surpass him. But the meeting of 
 the hrst congress of American chess-players last year, 
 in New York, offered a field for the display of his ex- 
 traordinary powers, and his visit to the Empire City 
 was hailed with satisfaction by nearly all the leading 
 athletes in the States. Comparatively little is known 
 in England of the strength of American players ; at the 
 time of the congress, the New York club contained 
 such men as Mead and Thompson, gentlemen well 
 known at the Cafe de la Regence, and who received 
 only small odds from Kiezcritzky, and players of equal 
 grade. Lichtcnheim, a trifie stronger, had been Presi- 
 dent of the Konigburg Club ia Germany, and Charles 
 H. Stanley is no new name to Englishmen. In other 
 cities of the Union were amateurs of equal force, such, 
 for instance, as Montgomery of Philadelphia and Paul- 
 sen, then unknown to fame. 
 
 The Hon. A. B. Meek, Judge of Probate in the 
 State of Alabama, and one of the leading jurists and 
 orators in America, was the first to give the New 
 York Club an idea of Paul Morphy's powers. When 
 he informed the members that the youthful Louisianian 
 would certainly carry off the prize in the tournament, 
 he incurred a good deal of bantering ; one gentleman 
 answering : 'Because he beats you. Judge, you think 
 he must necessarily beat everybody else,' — a reply 
 which, however brilliant, proved unsound. Mr. Paul- 
 sen also gave it as his decided opinion, previously to 
 Mr. Morphy's arrival, that he would vanquish all 
 competitors ; and he frequently expressed his belief, 
 during the congress, that should Morphy visit Europe, 
 he would prove his superiority over every living player. 
 Mr. Paulsen's admiration for the young Louisianian 
 was so great, that whenever the latter was engaged in 
 a game, he could not be lured from watching him. 
 But it is not merely over the board that Paul Morphy 
 exerts his powers. As a blindfold player, no one ever 
 before succeeded in conducting seven games, with the 
 exception of Paulsen, and he has frequently stated in 
 New York that he felt satisfied Morphy could play as 
 many games as himself. The latter is considerably 
 stronger blindfolded than Paulsen, and some of his bat- 
 tles are surprising examples of brilliant strategy. We 
 are happy to announce to our renders that Mr. Morphy 
 intends playing eight blindfold games simultaneously 
 during his visit to London. Mr. Morpliy is about five 
 feet three inches , and his alendcrness of figure is such 
 as to give him a remarkably yoathtul appearance. 
 
 FOREIGN INTELLIGENCE. 
 
 niELANU. 
 
 TiiB Pacha Xp Egypt — Ini.sH MANorACTfRE. — 
 Amongst the many specimens of native skill in art 
 manufactures which have recently been exhibited, 
 nothing has been produced better calculated to sus- 
 tain its high character than some magnificent speci- 
 mens of lace embroidery executed for his Koyal 
 Highness, Ali Said Pacha, Viceroy of Egypt, which 
 we examined yesterday at the warerooms of the 
 Messrs. Cordner & Co., Dame street. The lace is 
 intended for the internal decoration of a grand state 
 carriage now being built in England for his high- 
 ness, and, strange as it may appear to those who 
 are but too fond of seeking to depreciate anything 
 in the shape of manufacture produced by Irishmen 
 at home, it could not be produced from some emi- 
 nent establishments in England in the ornate and 
 costly style which was demanded. The drawing of 
 the pattern was furnished and forwarded from the 
 East by Mr. R. Stephenson, the eminent engineer, 
 and 'on its being received by Messrs. Cordner, they 
 readily undertook the order, and sent back a speci- 
 men of their work with judicious alterations on the 
 pattern for approval. They received an immediate 
 order to proceed with the work, irrespective of cost, 
 and acting on these instructions they producea an 
 article ii> every way worthy of native skill, and well 
 suited to show how much Irishmen could accom- 
 plish with the air of common fair play and encour- 
 agement. The lace is of the finest silk texture, 
 made to represent a silver ground, upon which are 
 embroidered the Ottoman emblems in gold — a star 
 within the horns of the crescent. These emblems 
 are relieved with exceeding good taste by a mono- 
 gram of arabesque characters in hlack silk embroi- 
 dery of the viceroy's name. The edges of the lace 
 are of rich purple, adorned with miniature stars and 
 cresents. The tassels are composed of rich purple 
 silk, magnificently braided with massive bullion 
 wire. Some estimate may be formed of the splen- 
 dor of this product of our Irish looms when it is 
 known that two ounces of gold are wrought into 
 every yard, of which seven or eight hundred yards 
 are required. The state equipage for which this 
 lace must be appropriate must rival in splendor the 
 chariots of the Assyrian; and we are only too hap- 
 py that the Messrs. Cordner have given a convinc- 
 ing proof, if any was required, by the manner in 
 which this gorgeous fabric has been cunningly 
 woven, how much Irish skill and Irish enterprise 
 can accomplish when receiving encouragement and 
 patronage, [Freeman. 
 
 William Smith O'Brien in Louisbubgh. — A 
 Louisburgh correspondent writes : — On the night of 
 the 26th ult., our little town was honored with a 
 visit by our truly honorable and highly distinguish- 
 ed countryman, the pure and uncompromising Wil- 
 liam Smith O'Brien. He was accompanied on his 
 way hither from Westport by our revered curate, 
 the Rev. Martin M'Hale, at whose residence he 
 was entertained, as were also the Rev. Michael Cur- 
 ley, our zealous parish priest, the Rev. Patrick 
 Donoghue, and other clergymen. On hearing that 
 the great patriot had arrived, the people simulta- 
 neously rushed forth, eager to catch a glimpse of 
 the noble descendant of Brian. In honor of their 
 renowned guest, the inhabitants erected a large fire, 
 and then began to illuminate their windows. Light 
 tollowed light in rapid succession, until the town 
 appeared one flaming mass. Willing to testify their 
 esteem for him, who earned it so dearly and so 
 well, they raised thunder shouts of joy and exulta- 
 tion that rent the welkin asunder, and wakened the 
 wild echoes of many a mountain-dell. An Irish 
 piper struck up several national airs, the liquid 
 sounds of the national music floating in the night 
 breeze, summoned to the gay scene many a lad and 
 lass, who on 'light fantastic toe' bounded along 
 through the mazes of the merry Irish jig. In the 
 
 cour.w of the night, Mr. O'Brien addressed the peo- 
 ple in flowing and pathetic language, which it were 
 vain attempting to describe, and which called forth 
 loud and long continued burets of applau.se. The 
 heroic chief vi.sitid the Rev. James M'Girn, PP. 
 ClareLsIand, the following day. From Olareisland 
 he proceeded to Aehill ; and is now on his way, I 
 dare say, roond the north-western coast of Mayo. 
 May God speed the brave ! 
 
 William Smith O'liniEN in Westpokt. — Our 
 distinguished countryman and incomparable patriot. 
 Smith O'Brien, arrived in this town to-day, from 
 Connemara, where he had been taking a tour of the 
 Western Highlands, with the romantic and pictu- 
 resque scenery of which he was highly pleased. He 
 was accompanied by Martin O'Flaherty, Esq., and 
 if it had been known that the town would be hon- 
 ored by a visit, brief though it was, from him, noth- 
 ing would exceed the manifestation of popular feel- 
 ing and enthusiasm that would have taken place on 
 such an auspicious occasion. He was received by 
 the principal men of the town, and after receiving 
 their congratulations, and partaking of the hospi- 
 talities of the worthy curate. Father Cavanagh, Mr. 
 O'Brien left for Louisburgh, en route to Clare Island, 
 in company with the Rev. Mr. MacHale, whose 
 guests he will be this evening. His stay lasted only 
 a few hours. [Tuam Herald. 
 
 Cardinal Wiseman. — Our illustrious visitor has 
 been travelling rapidly over the country, everywhere 
 receiving demonstrations of affection and respect from 
 the people. At Athlone his reception was an ovation 
 — from Athlone his eminence proceeded to Parsons- 
 town to inspect the celebrated monster telescope of 
 Lord Rosse, and here again he was surrounded by 
 thousands of people anxious to see him and to get his 
 blessing. At Moatc similar scenes were icpeated, and 
 in fact, unless his eminence is being hurried through 
 the country by railway, he is never without an attend- 
 ing throng of persons anxious to do him honor. On 
 Wednesday, at twelve o'lclock, his eminence returned 
 to Dublin from Athlone, where he had been on a visit 
 to Mr. John Ennis, M. P. At seven o'clock in the 
 evening he proceeded, in company with the Hon. and 
 Rev. Monsignor Talbot, to the banquet at the Man- 
 sion House, given by the Lord Mayor in honor of 
 Mr. Bright, the engineer of the Atlantic Telegraph 
 Company, and to celebrate the successful laying of the 
 cable. [Nation. 
 
 Clonmel Art Exhihitiox. — -The van containing 
 the Government and her Majesty's collection to- 
 wards this exhibition, has arrived at the railway 
 station here, and through the kindness and atten- 
 tion of Mr. Whitestone, has been carefully locked 
 up in a special covered store. Nearly two hundred 
 and fifty season tickets have already been sold, and 
 some large cases of paintings and statuary have been 
 received ; on the whole, the forthcoming exhibition 
 promises to be eminently successful. An early ap- 
 plication for season tickets is desirable, lest, at the 
 time of opening, there may be a difficulty in pro- 
 curing them. [Clonmel Chronicle. 
 
 Mr. Dargan has in contemplation to run a steam- 
 er from Foynes to Kilbaha, and con.struct a rail- 
 way from thence to Kilkee, a distance of only four 
 miles, to be completed by public subscriptions, 
 without the intervention of an act of parliament. 
 
 The employees of the Gas Company are actively 
 engag(5d, under the superintendence of Mr. Kearney, 
 in putting up the gas fittings in the Court-house, 
 for the Clonmel Art Exhibition, which opens on the 
 8th September next. [Tipperary Examiner. 
 
 The Dublin Mercantile Advertiser states that the 
 quantity of land under tillage this year will be over 
 20,000 acres more than in 1857. 
 
 Prince Lucien Bonaparte is now making a tour 
 through Scotland, visiting Ivcrness and the High- 
 lands. His object is mainly to study and investi- 
 gate the Celtic language. 
 
no 
 
 IKlbM MlOV^JiLiLlAl^ X . 
 
 VARIOUS ITEMS. 
 
 A sTnANCE affair has occurred iit Constantinople. 
 A resident pliysician, Dr. /iillonia, an Austrian, 
 was called in to prescribe for the favorite wife of a 
 grtot Turkish personane, and on questioninj; her in 
 tho harem, he found that she was suffering from nn 
 inflammation of the bowels. Jle slightly touehcd 
 with his finger the part affected; on which, a 
 eunuch, who was in attenduiice, misinterpreting the 
 act, rushed on him, knocked him down, and beat 
 liini until he was half dead. The woman's husband, 
 hearing the noise, hurried in, and being told what 
 had taken place, stabbed the physician in the thigh 
 with a dagger. The blow was so violent that the 
 weapon broke. The wounded physician, bathe i in 
 blood, was removed to the street, and left to got 
 home as well as he could. Dr. Zallonia a few days 
 after died of the injuries which he had received. 
 
 As the 1 1 .20 Hudson River train was on its way 
 from Albany to Troy, Tuesday, two men were 
 walking upon the bridge which crosses the ^Vy- 
 luintskill Creek. One hastened to jump off. The 
 other took lus time, supposing that the train was a 
 local one, and would stop at the station. When he 
 discovered his mistake, there was no escape from 
 certain death for him but to jump into the Wy- 
 nantskill, about twenty-five feet below. This he 
 did, and striking the hard, pebbly bottom, was so 
 bruised and shocked as to be rendered senseless for 
 some three hours. The Hudson Star says he is 
 now doing well. 
 
 LtrrF.ns from Salt Lake City narrate the history 
 of a habeas corpus case instituted for the recovery 
 of a child which was abducted from its father in 
 England four years since. The plaintiff is Mr. 
 Henry I'olydore, the father ot the child, whose 
 mother, Mrs. Polydore, carried to L'tah after de- 
 serting her husband for the Mormons. The woman 
 was formerly a Roman Catholic. The ease is con- 
 ducted under instructions from Washington, and at 
 the request of the British government. 
 
 The future Duchess of Malakoff, who is related 
 to the empress, and was brought up by her mother, 
 is a handsome person, thirty years of age, much ad- 
 mired in her own country and in France. She 
 came there with the Countess of Montijo.and it was 
 noticed that she was constantly with the empress 
 at Cherbourg. The marshal has already arrived in 
 Paris for the publication of the banns. It is said 
 that the marriage was to take place on the 8th of 
 September, the anniversary of the taking of the 
 iialakoff. 
 
 On- the arrival of a train at Chicago, from De- 
 troit, the other evening, the crowd of people about 
 the depot were greatly astonished to .sec a man, or 
 the semblance of one, covered with a thick coating 
 of dust, emerge from beneath one of the passenger 
 cars. Scraping the dirt out of his eye.s, he gazed 
 about with a wild, bewildered look. To the ques- 
 tions that were put to him, he stated that he had 
 ridden from Michigan city to Chicago on the tru:;k 
 beneath the floor of tlie cars! 
 
 HvME, the American medium, is actually married 
 to Mile. KroU, or Kroff, who brings him the sum of 
 <S1GO,01)0 in cash. Since his marriage, it is said tlie 
 spirits have left liim, for in one of his attempts to 
 evoke the shadow of a deceased aunt of one of hit 
 new reUtives, the spirits refused utterly to obey. 
 But he has played his cards out, and has secured a 
 fortune and a wife at twenty-nine years of age; he 
 had better retire on his laurels, says the New York 
 Times. 
 
 By the death of a Mr. Hobson, of Calcutta, a 
 youth, now in tlie employ of a printer in London, 
 is suddenly put in possession of more than a million 
 and a half sterling. It is said the young man had 
 no previous knowledge of the relation, e.vcept as to 
 having once heard his mother say she had a brother 
 in India. 
 
 Weiohino a Thkit. — A citizen missed two 
 pounds of fresh butter, which was to be reserved 
 for himself. The maid, however, Jind not .only 
 stolen it, but fastened the theft on the cat, observ- 
 ing, moreover, she caught her in the oct of finishing 
 the last morsel. The wily cit immediately put the 
 kitten into the scales, and found it to weigh but a 
 pound and a half. This city mode of reasoning be- 
 ing quite conclusive, the girl confessed her crime. 
 The most desperate piece of coolness we have 
 heard of recently was that of a young man named 
 Muynard, in Bad .V.x county, ^\'isconsln, whose leg 
 was recently amputated. During the operation he 
 asked for a chew of tobacco, and inquired the price 
 of a cork leg, saying that he intended to have one 
 as soon as he got well and could earn it. 
 
 The question as to whether it is lawful to re- 
 prieve a man against his will, was discussed in Co- 
 lumbus, Ohio, on Friday last, in consequence of 
 the indifference manifested by one Myers when his 
 pardon was received just as they were preparing the 
 drop. A large crowd sympathized with him in liis 
 apparent disappointment. 
 
 They tell a story about a man out west who had 
 a hair-lip, upon which he performed an operation 
 himself, by inserting into the opening a piece of 
 chicken flesh; it adhered, and filled up the space ad- 
 mirably. This was well enough, until, in compli- 
 ance with the prevailing fashion, he attempted to 
 raise moustaches, when one side grew hair and the 
 other feathers. 
 
 Jack in Malta. — A few days since one of our 
 tars was seated outside a cafe (as is usual with cus- 
 tomers during the summer,) his legs extended in 
 another chair, a boy at each foot cleaning a shoe, 
 while Jack himself was eating an ice cream, which 
 he complained of as not being strong enough. 
 
 The tight between. Charles Lynch, an-Amcrican, 
 and John Sulilvan, a young aspirant for fisiic hon- 
 ors in the English prize ring, took place on the 17th 
 ult., near London. After twenty-nine rounds, at 
 the expiration of forty-eight minutes. Lynch was 
 declared the victor. 
 
 A MAN named \Vm. Farrell, residing in Cincin- 
 natti, pursues a novel occupation. He was arrest- 
 ed recently for an offence, and in complainant's 
 affidavit he was stated to be a clerk to a keeper of 
 a house of ill-fame. 
 
 M. PoiTEVis, the intrepid French aeronaut, whose 
 excursions on horseback caused so much excite- 
 ment in London, has met the fate of several of his 
 predecessors. He fell into the sea, near Malaga, 
 when descending with his balloon, and was there 
 drowned. 
 
 Within a week, says the New York Tribune, ten 
 thousand children have applied for admission to the 
 public schools in that city, and have been turned 
 away because there was no room for them. The 
 rejection of these ten thousand prevents twenty or 
 thirty thousand more from ;i|iplying. 
 
 In New York city, Saturday night, three burglars, 
 who were arrested, made a desperate resistance. 
 Each of them drew revolvers and fired at the offi- 
 cers, who gallantly returned the shots, severely 
 wounding one of the burglars and 'scratching' all 
 the others. 
 
 Theue is a woman in Cin( innati who beats her 
 husband severely whenever he does not earn his 
 daily twenty-five cents. The neighbors had to res- 
 cue him the other day, for tlie lady he had sworn 
 to protect was giving him too much of a large stick 
 for comfort. 
 
 Persons who are too shy and awkward to take 
 their due part in the bustling world, console them- 
 selves by assuming that the active and forcible 
 qualities possessed by the real actors in life's stir- 
 ring scenes are incompatible with others which 
 they choose to deem liigher and more important. 
 
 TiiK ship Junior, which has become well-known 
 by the horrid mutiny which occurred on board of 
 her, is fitting out for the north Pacific whale fishery, 
 and is to sail under the command of Capt. Lafayette 
 Rowley, of Edgartown. 
 
 A FEW morning vincc, a New Y^ork rag-picker 
 came upon a bundle in Broadway, and put it in his 
 bag, supposing that he had made a succcs-ful ven- 
 ture. On arriving at home, he found that it was a 
 dead baby. 
 
 LiEi-T. Peouam, who distinguished himself in the 
 fight with pirates in the East Indies, during the 
 Perry expedition, has been appointed to the com- 
 mand of the steamer Water Witch, fitting out for 
 Paraguay. 
 
 It is announced in the English papers that Queen 
 Victoria has granted a free pardon to a young man 
 named Wm. t/'raft, who was sentenced to six years' 
 imprisonment at hard liibor for an assault in kissing 
 a young lady »gamst her will. 
 
 A Miis. Pi.anteu was recently brought before a 
 London Police Court for having nine husbands. 
 She owned up to four of them, but of these she did 
 not know what had become of two of them. They 
 had probably transported them.selves. 
 
 'The Ultimate Objects of Napoleon IH.' is the 
 title of a spicy little pamphlet, which believes that 
 Bonaparte means his queen shall do her shopping 
 in Regent street, London, with her own guards 
 around her carriage. 
 
 A SON of Rogers, the sculptor, was recently bap- 
 tized in St. Peter's church at Rome. Many Amer- 
 icans were' present, among them Mr. Rogers him- 
 self, who is not a Catholic. 
 
 Theue are no less than six respectable gentlemen 
 who claim to be the originators of the Atlantic Tel- 
 egraph project. Have we got to go through a cele- 
 bration with each one? 
 
 John McKeon, the gentleman whose services 
 were totally dispensed with by the government, is 
 now one of the writers of the Tribune, says the 
 New Y'ork News. 
 
 PBOFEsson Mouse, of telegraphic fame, studied 
 painting in England, and was the first person to 
 deliver a course of public lectures upon Art in 
 America. 
 
 There is a talk of a combined English and French 
 expedition against Madagascar, simply becanse the 
 ladies and gentlemen there have eaten a few English 
 men flavored with garlics — (Gallics.) 
 
 A Good Dutch Reason. — 'Mynheer, do you 
 know what for we call our boy Hans?' 'Do not, 
 really.' 'Well, I will tell you. Der reason we call 
 our boy Hans is, it ish his name.' 
 
 Fickleness of the Sex. — A girl at school would 
 like to have two birthdays every year. When she 
 grows up a woman, she objects to having even 
 one. 
 
 The eyes of other people are the eyes that ruin 
 us. If all but myself were blind, I should never 
 want a fine house nor fine lurniture.— Franklin. 
 
 Civilization Man's struggle upwards, in which 
 
 millions are trampled to death, that thousaiftis may 
 mount on their bodies. 
 
 What can be more John Bullish than a London 
 paper's discovery of Mr. Morphy the American 
 chess-player's 'capability of improvement?' 
 
 The price of the passage of the three horses pur- 
 chased in this vicinity for Louis Napoleon, by the 
 Vanderbuilt steamer Ariel to Havre, was §.500. 
 
 A Mass for the repose of the souls of Lopez and 
 his companions was celebrated in the Saint Louis 
 Cathedral, in New Orleans, on the 1st inst. 
 
 Ben Jonso.v wrote somewhere, 'He makes a 
 wicked led.' In Mississippi, in praising a dancer, 
 they say, 'She makes a mighty fine leg.' 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 Ill 
 
 SUBSCKIliE! SUBSCRIBE! SUBSCRIBE! 
 
 THE IRISH MISCELLANY 
 
 iKDUOEMItNTB TO NEW SnBBORIBEKB. 
 
 OUR NEW VOLUME. 
 
 Having riivornbly coinmonced the second volume of our 
 publicntion, we seize tlic ocension lor the purpose of ten- 
 dering thanlis to tliose of our friends wlio liavo so generous- 
 ly contributed to our support. To start, and successfully 
 carry on an ordinary newspaper, so that it will, in a rea- 
 sonable space of time, become remunerative to its proprie- 
 tors, isa task not easily accomplished, and which consnm- 
 mntion does not generally happen in one case out ot n hun- 
 dred. Our enterprise, beinR of a nature entirely dill'erent 
 from that of any other Irish paper heretofore established 
 in this country— requirinfi a much greater expenditure of 
 capital and artistic taleWt— caused us serious misgivings, 
 and a constant fear that it would not meet the desires and 
 expectations ot our patrons. How far our efforts have been 
 suecesslXil, is for them to decide; but we trust that it will 
 not be considered egotistical on our part when we assert 
 that the Miscellany has far exceeded the most sanguine ex- 
 pectations of partial friends, and that even those who have 
 been enemies from the start have made suitable acknowl- 
 edgment of its merit. 
 
 Since we have had the control of the Miscellany our way 
 has not been — 
 
 'The primrose path of dalliance ' 
 
 We have been beset by obstacles innumerable; but having 
 a strong conlideuce in our ultimate success, we were deter- 
 mined to surmount all barriers, and though we have not, 
 as yet, brought the paper to that pitch of perfection which 
 is our desire, we trust soon to make it as acceptable as is 
 possible to our readers. 
 
 In beginning a new volume, we introduce various inno- 
 vations, tending to the improvement of the paper, in 
 every way that is possible. We shall give each week, an 
 epitome of Irish news — not the hdcknied local quotations 
 which interest only the few, but extracts from the leading 
 journals, which will be gratifying to tlie many. In this 
 respect, we will not be following in the steps of any of our 
 contemporaries, but, on the contrary, will be striking out 
 a path eminently our own. It will also be our aim to give 
 the best class of wood engravings which can be procured, 
 portraying national subjects, and, as our outlay in this re- 
 spect will be infinitely largerthan that of any Irish journal 
 published in this country, we look for a commensurate re- 
 turn. In short, it is our ictenfion to make the paper meet 
 the requirements of all classes of readers. 
 
 As an inducement, therefore, to new subscribers, we offer 
 to each person who will pay one years' subscription in ad- 
 vance, commencing with the first number of the first 
 volume, {not the second, as inadvertantly stated in previous 
 numbers,) directly to us or through any of our authorized 
 local or travelling agents, a copy ot our first Gift Picture, 
 representing Sarsfield's Surprise of the Seige Train of the 
 Prince of Orange. When completed, each volume of the 
 Miscellany will form a book of four hundred and six- 
 teen (416) pages, and will alone, be worth the price of an 
 entire year's subscription. The same inducements are offer- 
 ad to clubs, as to single subscribers. 
 
 ADVEBTISEMENTS. 
 
 ADVERTISEMENTS 
 
 W. J. IIENNESSY, 
 ARTIST, 
 
 No. 37 FRANKLIN STREET, 
 NEW YORK CITY. 
 
 FRANCIS GODFREY, 
 
 IMrORTER AND HESTOKEK OF 
 
 ITALIAN PAINTINGS, 
 
 AND MANUFACTURER OF GILT FRAMES, 
 
 12 FRA^'KLIN Stkeet, Boston. 
 
 DC?* Engravings. Lithographs, Crayons, &c., o.^ eale 
 3m aug28 
 
 CLUBS! CLUBSI! CLUBS!!! 
 
 There is no town or village so small, but a club of six or 
 more subscribers for the Irish Miscellany can be easily ob- 
 tained. Will those of our friends who are well-wishers oi 
 the land of their birth, do us the favor of getting up Clubs. 
 Our terms will be — 
 To achib of six persons sent to one addresa, 3E10,00 
 
 Tea club of twelve, 19.00 
 
 The whole of the money must invariably be sent at one 
 remittance, and in advance. 
 
 In addition to this great reduction of price, each member 
 of a Club will be entitled to copies of ail our splendid Cilt 
 Pictures. Let our friends exert tliemselves. and by their 
 patronage make the Miscellany the foremoAt Irish journa 
 on this continent. 
 
 TRAVELLING AGENTS WANTED. 
 
 We have determined to appoint a number of Travellin;; 
 Agents, to travel in the various Stafes of the Union and 
 canva.«8 for subscribers for this paper We do this at the 
 earnest requent of many warm friends, who think we do 
 not take the requisite steps to make the paper known as ex- 
 tensively as it ought to be. 
 
 I'ersons desirous of becoming Travelling Agents, who 
 can be well recommended, are requested to apply at our 
 office forthwith. None but faithful, reliable men need ap- 
 ply. To such a liberal commission will be allowed. Apply 
 at oiirrublication Ofllce, 4 Water street, Boston. 
 
 Back Numbers ot the Miscellany, from the commence- 
 ment of the paper, may be procured through any of our 
 regular agents, or by sending direct to the office of publi- 
 cation, No. 4 Water street, Boston. Will our Irieuds in 
 want bear this fact ia miud? 
 
 MERCANTILE AND WRITING SCHOOL, 
 
 E. J. GLEESON, Master. 
 
 This School is now opened at No. 23 Portland Street, 
 a few doors south of Dooley's Exchange Hotel, where a 
 select and limited number of the Youth of both sexes will 
 be admitted ; time from 9 A. M. to 12 M., and from 2 P. M 
 to 5 P.M. 
 
 TERMS MODERA TE. 
 
 EVENING SCHOOL! 
 
 This school will be opened in the same place on the first 
 evening of next mouth, where adults and those of riper 
 years, will be carefully and assiduously instructed in the 
 various brauchts of learning, suitable to their calling. 
 
 BOOK-KEEriNG : 
 
 Mr. Gleeson ventures to say, and pledges himself without 
 hesitation, that he will qualify young gentlemen for the 
 Counting Room, in half the time that is consumed in simi- 
 lar institutions in this city, and at considerable less ex- 
 pense. 
 
 August 17th, 1858. aug28 
 
 FU?JE READY MADE CLOTHING 
 
 SPKING OVERCOATS, 
 
 BUSINESS COATS, 
 
 FROCK AND DRESS COATS, 
 
 PANTS AND VESTS, 
 
 Good, Stylish, Well Made Garmkmts, 
 
 Such as men of taste and good judgment will wear, can at 
 
 all times be found at our store. 
 
 Our aim is to produce for our customers the best Ready 
 
 Made Garments at the lowest possible prices for 
 
 CASH. 
 
 Readers of this Journal are earnestly solicited to exam- 
 ine our goods before purchasing. 
 
 J W. SMITH & CO., 
 
 Dock Square, corner Elm Street. 
 myll tf 
 
 GENERAL TICKET OFFICE 
 
 —FOR THE— 
 
 SOUTHERN AND WESTERN STATES 
 
 AND 
 
 THE CANADAS, 
 No. 2 Albany Street, Boston. 
 
 EDWARD RYAN, Agent. 
 
 N. B. — Passage to and from Liverpool, and Bills of Ex- 
 change on England, Ireland and Scotland. 
 
 ap24 ly 
 
 NORTHERN HOUSE, 
 
 NORTH SQUARE— BOSTON. 
 
 JOHN GLAKCY Proprietor. 
 
 This House has rooms equal to any first class Hotel, and 
 permanent or transient Boarders can be accommodated 
 nearly one half cheaper than at any other House in the 
 City. 
 
 In tlie Reading Room can be found all the morning and 
 evening papers, and periodicals of the day, together with 
 on extensive Library, for the free and exclusive use of 
 
 the lJuARUER9. 
 
 N. B. Strangers visiting Boston, can always find this 
 House a HoMiu. 
 
 THE I K I S H VINDICATOR. 
 
 A WEEKLY NEWSPAPER, 
 
 The Best and Cheapest Publisukd in Auerioa. 
 
 THIS splendid Paper, ^vhich is little over nine months 
 in existence, has met with the 
 
 MOST W O N D E li K U L SUCCESS, 
 
 and has been pronounced by the I'res.s and the Public to be 
 superior to any other Iri^h Weekly in the United States. 
 
 It contiiiiiK each week, the very 
 Latest News from every County in Ireland ; 
 Original and entertaining 
 STORIES AND ANECDOTES, 
 and a variety of Miscellaneous Reading matter, of a charac- 
 ter which cannot fail to elevate and chasten the intel- 
 lectual appetite. The Irish Vindicator is devoted 
 
 TO THE INTERESTS OF IRISHMEN IN AMERICA, 
 
 and is so cheap as to be within the reach of the poorest. 
 
 ONLY THREE CENTS A COPY. 
 
 1.00 
 0.50 
 0.12 
 year, 
 
 THE following AltE THE TERMS 
 
 To any part of the United States, for one year, S 
 
 Do. do. do. for 8 months, 
 
 Do, do. do. for 4 months, 
 
 Do. do. do. for 1 month, 
 
 To any part of Canada or the British Provinces, one 
 
 $2,00— All payments in advance. 
 
 FOR ADVERTISING, 
 
 12 lines, single insertion .$1.00 | 12 lines, 1 month, 
 12 do. 3 months, 5.50 | 12 do. 1 year, 
 
 Published every week, at the Otlice, No 10 Spruce 
 New York, by the Proprietors. 
 
 EDWARD DOWNES CONNERY & 
 
 New York, march 27 
 
 street, 
 CO. 
 
 GILMOREb SALEM (jUADRILLE BAND. E. UP 
 TON. Jr.. Prompter. Apply to P. S. Gilmork, Es 
 MX House, tiAX£M, Mass. 8m feblS 
 
 TPIE SOUT^IERN CITIZEN, 
 
 IS published weekly at Knoxville, Tennessee, by JOHN 
 MITCHELL & WM. G. SWAN, at $2 per annum, or 
 $1 for six months, payable invariably in advance. 
 
 Mr. Mitchell having commenced in the 28th number of 
 the paper, a series of Letters addressed to the Hon. Alex- 
 ander H. Stephens of Georgia, which when completed will 
 furnish an entire history ol 
 
 THE IRISH TROUBLES OF 1848, 
 
 With their Causes and Consequences, 
 
 The Southern Citizen will be the more interesting to both 
 American and Irish readers. Besides these contributions 
 from Mr. Mitchel, the Southern Citizen will continue to 
 have its usual quantity of original matter upon political 
 and literary subjects prepared by him. The circulation, 
 though large and constantly increasing, the proprietors 
 have thought will be much more extended by an announce- 
 ment in this form. 
 
 Communications with remittances may be addresedto 
 Mitchel & Swan, Knoxville, Tennessee, or to any of the 
 following Agents: 
 
 S G Courteuay & Co, Charleston, S C; Thomas B O'Con- 
 nor, Savannah, Ga; J C Morgan, New Orleans, La; Jas A 
 Gentry, Qichmond, Va; Alexander Adamson, Washington 
 city; tallinage& Tuuner, Cincinnati, O; PM Haverty, 110 
 Fulton street, N Y; S H Goetzel, 33 Dauphin street, Mobile 
 Ala; Benj B Davis, Masonic Building, Montgomery, Ala ; 
 Ross & Toucey, 121 Nassau street, N \ , supply dealers only 
 upon reasonable terms; James McGinn, 121 liearney street 
 San Francisco. 
 
 *#* Clubs of ten will be supplied with the paper for S15. 
 
 J. & R. MURPHY, 
 
 MANUFACTURERS OF 
 
 S'JRGIDAL AND DENTAL INSTRUMENTS, 
 CUTLERY, 
 
 AND STEEL WORK OF EVERY KIXD, 
 No. 3 HARVARD PLACE, (opposite the Old South,) 
 
 BOSTON, MaS.S. 
 K^Cutlery and Instruments of all kinds Repaired, 
 ly aiig28 
 
 DO'EOURKE, respectfully informs liis friends and the 
 . public, that he keeps constantly on hand t'OFKINS 
 of all sizes and kinds, at his Codir. "Manufactory, No. 347 
 Fedei-al, between Beach and Kneetand Streets, Boston, 
 which he will sell as reasonable as cau be bou^'lit at any oth- 
 er place in the city. 
 
 N. B.— Orders punctually attended to, day or night. 
 
 Ke.sidence, No. 28 South street, Boston. 
 
 (ET^Grave-Clotlics furnished to order at short notice. 
 
 febl3 
 
 PASSENGER CERTIFICATES.i 
 
 TO OLD roUNTUYMUN. Owen Mc Na.mara has 
 Passage Certiticates and Drafts always on hand and 
 for sale. As he does business for that most respectable 
 house, (Williams & Guion) in New York, old Countrymen 
 desiring to send for their IViends. or remit money, would 
 do wellto give him a call at No. 4 Uouham St.. opposite 
 Summer St., Lowell, JIa.ss cj.;:; 
 
 BS. TREANOR, ATTORNEY and COUN.SELL0R 
 . AT LAW, 15 Jlassachusetts Block, Court Square 
 Boston. 
 
 [C?-rarlieular attention paid to Convsyancing, and ho 
 exomiuation of iitl«s uf Heal Kiitate. febl 
 
112 
 
 IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 The Late Banuvbt to the officers of the Oal- 
 •wny 8ti-amer, aside from its having surpnssed the 
 most sanguine expectations of the projectors thereof, 
 resulted in one good, which cannot too often recur, 
 namely: bringing together in fraternal union the 
 real friends of poor Erin lUid of whatever conduces 
 to her substantial benefit. In foreign climes and 
 particularly in large communities, the emigrant — 
 whose path, even under favorable auspices, is not 
 altogether free from brambles — loses a certain por- 
 tion of his individuality ; and, in illiberal locali- 
 ties especially, the genial promptings of his nature 
 become, as it were, choked up. Ueunions like that 
 referred to, where a common object is in view and 
 disinterestedness the watchword, tend powerfully 
 to bring out man's better self Having had ample 
 opportunity for testing this fact, it urtords us ex- 
 treme gratitication to make honorable mention of 
 two gentlemen who were most active in ieting the 
 officers of the Propeller— r.iTKicK Hoi.lv, of the 
 Old Colony House, South street, and John Glaxcy, 
 of the Northern House, North Sq. Representatives 
 olike of the extreme sections of Boston, they may 
 be said truly to typify the Irish character— the one, 
 a fine specimen of the old Irish gentleman, to whom 
 our people. are indebted for originating the late cred- 
 itable proceedings, and who, with almost prodigal 
 liberality, kept open house throughout for commit- 
 tees- the other, a noble pattern of the untainted, 
 youthful Irishman, whose zeal and activity as com- 
 mittce-ir.an and treasurer could not be surpassed. 
 ■\Ve know how distasteful it must be to those gen- 
 tlemen thus to parade their names and actions in 
 print ; but, essaying a feeble requital, we allude to 
 them here, not because they are patrons of this pa- 
 per, nor that they arc in deservedly easy circum- 
 stances, but simply because in promiscuous gather- 
 ciings modest merit is almost always certain to be 
 overlooked. To be sure, where all were so busy, it 
 may look like invidiousness to single out one or 
 more co-operators in a good work, and indeed, un- 
 der ordinary circumstances, nothing could be more 
 repugnant to our feelings than to do so ; but a sense 
 of justice has impelled us to pen the foregoing, and 
 wc only reiterate the sentiments of all the other 
 gentlemen on the committee, when we add that the 
 enthusiasm, the self-denial, and the laborious efforls 
 of Messrs. Holly and Glancy will not be forgotten 
 
 • Till Time's eflacing fingers 
 
 Has swept the lines where mcm'ry liugers.' 
 Of Mr. Mooney, who not merely, in his capacity 
 of Custom House officer, superintended the steamer 
 from the moment of her arrival until her departure, 
 but inspected, directed, and successfully carried out 
 the arrangements, and of Mr. Donahoe, on whom 
 •was actually forced the honor of presiding at the 
 banquet, where he so happily and with so much 
 dignity discharged his duties,- it would afford us 
 exceeding pleasure to write according to their rich 
 desert ; but, mindful of the futility of attempting to 
 'paint the lily or gild refined gold," we forbear. 
 
 Correction. — The staiiment in our last to the 
 effect that Sergeant Tho-i. O'Ntill had sent to Ireland, 
 per steamer Propeller, lor one liundred and fifty dol- 
 lars' worth of Irish raanuiactored poods, 'for family 
 use,' was incorrect. In justice to that gentleman, we 
 would now state that the sum remitted was twice that 
 stated, and that the goods were not ordered 'for family 
 use,' but merely as specimens, consisting of good liil- 
 kinnv bUnkets. Frieze cloth tor overcoats, ladies' 
 woollen dress patterns, Iri»h flannel, and a small quan- 
 tity of Limerick lace, now sold in this country as 
 French. Mr. O'Neill, practising what lie preaches, 
 wishes to see Irish manafaciur.d goods in ihe Amer- 
 ican market, as Irish goods, not as English, and is 
 determined lo have specimens to show the public, and 
 will practically demonstrate that the Irish people, who 
 laid the foundation of English manufactures, can yet 
 produce the most splendid fabrics. We hope to see 
 the noble example set by Mr. O'Ntill followed by other 
 of our citizens. 
 
 DEPAnTDnKOrTUEO»LW.VY STKAMKllPnOrLI.KR. 
 
 U having been publicly announced by placard that 
 the Galway steamer Propeller would have tin* port on 
 Tuesday afternoon last, at 4 o'lloik, that the eleamer 
 John Adams had been charicnd to accompany her 
 ilown the harbor, and that the Lafayette Guard, Cap- 
 tain Muore, would be on board, and honor her with 
 a salute of one hundred gnns, caused considerable ex- 
 citement among the friends and promoters of the new 
 enterprise. As eariy as 2 o'clock, Long and Central 
 wharves presented signs of animation and excitement. 
 The convoy was gaily dressed, and crowded to her ut- 
 most capacity. The Ai tillcry company having march- 
 ed on hoard, and all arrangements being completed, 
 the Propeller and her convoy cast otV at half past 4 
 o'clock. This was the signed for enthusiastic cheers 
 from the multitudes assembled on the wharves and in 
 the rigging of the vessels, and from those on boanl the 
 two steamers, who continued to keep up mutual salu- 
 tations. The scene presented was not unlike a naval 
 tournament. It -vas a joyous affair. We think wc 
 are safe in saying that no other people in the world 
 could 90 deeply feel the interest attached to a new en- 
 terprise, as do the Irish in this. They freely poured 
 forth blessings upon tiie ship, her captain, and the un- 
 dertaking. After proceeding ten or twelve miles, the 
 Galway steamer hove to, and the convoy steamed 
 twice around her, when those on board returning to 
 Boston took a final farewell, and returned on board 
 the John Adams. The Propeller now put on her 'seven- 
 leagued boots,' and was soon out of sight. Darkness 
 closing in, rockets were sent up from the returning 
 steamer. The Irish people may well feel proud of the 
 festivities given in honor of the arrival of this pioneer 
 ship, while to those who started and carried out the 
 arrangements, too much honor cannot be awarded. 
 Capt. Thatcher is to command the first large vessel to 
 this port, and he declares that Boston will have a regu 
 lar Une. 
 
 Marriage of Mr. Donahoe's Daughter. — The 
 Catholic Cathedral in Franklin street was densely 
 crowded on Tuesday forenoon, 14th inst., by young 
 and old of both sexes, who attended to witness the 
 marriage of Mr. Patrick Hughes of Toronto, Canada 
 West, with Miss Mary E. Donahoe, daughter of 
 Patrick Donahoe, Esq., proprietor of the Boston 
 Pilot. The ceremony was performed by Bishop 
 Fitzpatrick. In the afternoon they left the city, 
 en route for Saratoga, from whence they will pro- 
 ceed to their Canada home. We wish, heartily wish 
 the happy couple all the felicities incident to the 
 state on which they have so auspiciously entered. 
 
 ADVERTISEMENTS . 
 
 OLD COLONY HOUSE. 
 
 PATltICK IIOI-LY bem leave to nnnouiicc to liiii pat- 
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 on hand ul his olil uiul «.-ll-knmvii stiinil. 
 
 THE OLD COLONY HOUSE, 
 
 CORNEK OF KNimi.AiW AXU SOUTH l^TliEETS, 
 A CHOICE ARSORT.MKXT OF 
 
 BRANDIES, WINES, SCOTCH & IRISH 
 
 WHISKEY, CIG.\RS, So. &c., 
 
 all ol the very first quullly, which can be obtained too at 
 
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 SOUTH END CATHOLIC BOOK STORE, 
 
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 METROPOLITAN AND YOUTHS' MAGAZINES. 
 
 WILLIAM KEATIKG, AOKNT, 
 
 8 1-2 Harrison Avenue, or at his New Periodical Store, 176 
 
 Harrison Avenue, BoBton. Mass., 
 
 Where a great variety of the most popular Hooks and 
 
 Papers cam be had at the very lowest prices, 
 
 WILL supply Clubs, Agents, Canvassers, &c.. on the 
 same terms as the Publishers. The following are 
 the terms— 3 copies will be seiil by mail, to one address, tor 
 one year 35; 6 copies for SIO; 13 copies for S20; 20 copies 
 
 \Cr On the receipt of S3, three copies of the Catholic 
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 be mailed regularly for one year. , , . . 
 
 a-7=- A few sets of the Magazines from the begiuninB. can 
 be had of the Agent. Also, all new books furnished as 
 soon as published. ap24 3moB 
 
 CATHOLIC BOOK STORE. 
 
 WILLIAM mcKEY, Catholic Booktcllcr, and Agcn t 
 for the Extensive Publishing House of D. & J. 
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 The latest and most varied stock of Kcligious Prints, 
 MISSALS, PRAYER BOOKS. CROSSES, 
 and all the Current Literature, constantly on band. 
 
 No. 128 Federal (cokxer op Wilijams) street, 
 BOSTON, SIASS. 
 
 We have received from Messrs. Alexander Williams 
 & Co , 100 Washington street, a copy of the Old 
 Farmer's Almanac for 18.'i9, which is just published. 
 We also received from the same enterprising house 
 an amusing hook for children, entitled 'Goody Right- 
 Thursty,' by Magpie, with fifteen illustrations. Like- 
 wise, for a map of Frazer's River Gold Regions. 
 
 Jobs Savage's New Tragic Play 'Sibil.'— 
 Mr. Savage's five act tragic play, entitled 'Sibil,' (yet 
 in MS.), WHS produced in St. Louis on Monday, the 
 6th inst. Miss Avonia Jones personated the heroine, 
 and Mr. Cha.les Pope the hero. We are delighted to 
 learn by the St. Louis papers that it was a decided 
 success. 
 
 P . MORRIS, 
 
 APOTHECARY, 
 
 Comer of Federal and Purchase streets, foot of Summer 
 
 street, Boston. 
 
 STRICT personsl attention paid to compounding Phyei 
 clan's Prescriptions. A choice selection of I'amily 
 Medicines conslantlv on hand. A well bclecled slock of 
 ircnuine imported Perfumery and Fancy Goods. &o(la 
 Waterwith choice Syrups. A large assortment of genuine 
 Havana Segars constantly on hand. apo 
 
 OUK AGENTS. 
 Boston -John J. Dyer, & Co.. 35 School street; A. Wil- 
 liams & Co., 100 Washington street: fcdiiercu 8t Co., 9 and 
 3 Court street ; \Vm. Hickev. 128 Federal street : Howe & 
 Co., n Court Avenue; and William Keating, 17« Harrison 
 
 liangor, Me.— Edward J. Kellcher. 
 
 New York.— Dexter & Brother, 14 fe 16 Ann street. 
 
 Tiov, N Y— Francis Roark. 
 
 Philadelphia —A. Winch. 320 Chestnut street. 
 
 Ohio— M. H. Bird, Cincinnati, and Hawks fc Brothers, 
 Cleaveiancl. 
 
 Detroit. .Mich —J. A. Roys. 
 
 St. Louis. Missouri —Thomas Duggan. 
 
 New Orleans, La.— James M. Shine. 
 
 The Mhrfllnny mav alto be had, retail, of newspaper and 
 periodical dealers throughout the country. 
 
 travelling agents. 
 John Warren, 50 Audover street, lor Boston and v'Cm'ty • 
 James Doyle, of Millbury, Mass, M. I indlay Mchay, 
 ofAmcsburv. Mass. Edward H. Kcenan, ol North lerns- 
 buiir Vt. Michael F. Uackelt. of I-rovKlcnce. K. I. Jamee 
 SulPivan, of New Haven, Ct. Robert Crowj- ol «rooklyn 
 N. Y. James Culleu, of West Troy, N.^. Daniel A. Bros- 
 nan, of Philadelphia, Pa^ ^^^^^^^^_^^_ 
 
 TEN KEAIiY WAY.s TO MAKE MONL\, being ten 
 oriL'iluil rcciipl- lor the niuuufacture ol usclul arti- 
 cles which cuninmiid a (|uick sale, and insure a lull pocket. 
 Formerly sold for So; but now sent lo any person lor oue 
 EOld dollar. Address T L. REILLY, Peace Dale, K. I. 
 Bis 3t 
 
 LAWKEXCE BRIGADE BAND J. De-smond, Lead- 
 er. Are prepared to lurnish Mesic lor Military and 
 Civic Parades. PicNics. Festivals. &e. Also, a (iuadnlle 
 hand furnished, if desired. Address J. Desmond, cure 01 
 Rev. J. ODonuell, Lawrence, Mass. 
 
 4 WILL1AMS& CO., WholcsaleAgents, for the Irish 
 A.. MISCELLANV. The Tiadc supplied with Books, 1 c- 
 nodicals and Newspapers. Speciaf Agents lor Harper a 
 Brothers Publications. No. 100 Washington street. 
 
 THE 
 
 IRISH MISCELLANY 
 
 Is published weekly, and devoted to the interests and vin- 
 dication of the Irish i«ople "'™">-''!."" >''^ *°'; <>■ „„b„ 
 
 The MisctUany republishet each wees one whole number 
 ol he old -DUBLIN PENNV JorRNAi,.' With original and 
 selected essavH. reviews, poetry. !tc.. by Irishmen, o lirst- 
 rate abilitv. It also contains beautilal Pictorial Illustra- 
 tions of Irish scenery and other objects of interest, among 
 whkh mav be enumerated engravings ol the ancient cas- 
 llerandriund toners, the ruins of Ihe old churches, the 
 ulundered roonattcrics. convents and abbeys ol Ireland. 
 
 It will also contain correct Pictorial rcpresciilations ol 
 works ofart executed by Irishmen (.1 Ihe present day, a. 
 well as in former times, in this country and throughout 
 Europe. , . ,_, , j 
 
 Terms.— S2,00 per year, invariably in advance. 
 WALSH fc CO. PROPKlCTOItS, 
 
 Ko. 4 Water Strkkt, Boston, BIabs. 
 
VOLUME 2— NUMBER 34.] 
 
 BOSTON, SATURDAY, OCTOBER 2, 1858. 
 
 [PRICE FOUR CENTS 
 
 SCENERY AND TRADITIONS OF IRELAND. 
 
 The maritime county of Donegal, in the province 
 of Ulster, has scattered over its surface the ruins of 
 many ancient castles, strongholds of the earlier Irish 
 chieftains, or the English settlers by whom they 
 ■were dispossessed. Of these, Donegal Castle, lying 
 near the clean little town of the same name, is per- 
 haps the most interesting. 
 
 It was for ages one of principal residences of the 
 O'Donnels, the chiefs and princes of Tyrconnell — 
 the land of Connell, from Connell, one of the most 
 eminent of their ancestors. In the annals of the 
 Four Masters, they are called 'siol na Dallagh,' i. e. 
 the seed of Dallagh, from Dalagh, another of their 
 chiefs. There was also a celebrated monastery 
 here, in which the aforesaid Annals of the Four 
 Masters were written, and they are sometimes 
 called the Annals of Donegal from that circum- 
 stance. 
 
 During the terrible civil wars of 1641, the castle 
 was abandoned, and has since been left to the ex- 
 clusive guardianship of old Father Time. It is now 
 a picturesque ruin, and, standing close to the river 
 ■ Easky, is one of the most conspicuous objects in the 
 neighborhood. 
 
 On the fall of the O'Donnell family, in the reign 
 
 of King James the First, and the attainder of the 
 celebrated Bed Hugh O'Donnell, and of Rory, 
 Earl of Tyrconnell, their immense possessions were 
 sequestered as forfeited to the crown, and granted 
 to English and Scottish settlers, who are the ances- 
 tors of the present possessors of the estates. 
 
 This castle was granted by patent, dated 16th 
 November, 1610, to Captain Basil Brooke, for 
 twenty-one years, if he should live so long, with 
 one hundred acres of land, the fishings, customs, 
 and duties, extending along the river from the 
 castle to the sea. Captain Brooke was knighted 2d 
 February, 1616, by Sir Arthur Chichester, Knight, 
 Lord Deputy, and had a regrant of twenty-one 
 years, or his life of the castle, by patent, dated 27th 
 July, 1620, and on the 12th February, 1623, he had 
 a grant of the fee of the castle for ever. 
 
 Sir Basd Brooke repaired the castle, and resided 
 in it until his death, in 1633. He was a branch of 
 the family of Brooke, of Norton, in Cheshire, and 
 his lady was Anne, daughter of Thomas Leicester, 
 of Toft, in that county. Henry Vaughn Brooke, 
 Esq., Member of Parliament for the County of 
 Donegal, was his descendant and heir at law, who 
 left the estates of his family to his nephew, Thomas 
 Grove, Esq., who took the name and arms of 
 
 Brooke, by royal sign manual, in 1808. He died 
 without issue, and the estates of the family went to 
 Thomas Young, Esq. of Lough Esk, who also took 
 the name of brooke by royal sign manual, dated 
 16th July, 1830, and is its present possessor. 
 
 The castle stands close to the side of the river, 
 above the bridge, and is in tolerable preservation. 
 At present it is surrounded by a garden belonging 
 to the inn, and great care seems to be taken to pre- 
 serve it from further decay. On entering it, the 
 visitor first comes into a large hall, arched above, 
 and communicating with other apartments on the 
 gr lund floor. From this a staircase leads to a large 
 room on the second flonr, which seems to have been 
 formerly used as a banqueting hall, and still re- 
 tains some vestiges of its former magnificence. At 
 one end there had been a splendid window, reach- 
 ing from the floor to the ceiling, but this is now 
 nearly destroyed. 
 
 The castle is well worth visiting. The family to 
 whom it belonged, though they are now nearly for- 
 gotten, or only remembered by those to whom they 
 are endeared by the traditions of the country, or by 
 the few who find a pleasure in dipping into the an- 
 cient history of Ireland, once acted a very promi- 
 nent part in the civil transactions of the kindom ; 
 
 DONBGAL CASTLE. 
 
114 
 
 IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 they received, perhaps, within these walls, embas- 
 sies from foreign princes, and tliough it may be said 
 of the last of their race, that 
 
 'In the fields of their couutry tlicy found not a uravc,' 
 yet they long continued to hold a distinguished 
 place in the courts of foreign princes, and graced 
 the hostile camps of Europe while fighting agaiunt 
 their native land. 
 
 'Compell'd unwilling victories to gain, 
 And doomed to perish on a foreign pUiiu.' 
 
 Even as connected with the polite history of the 
 age, the castle has some interest from the ficquent 
 mention made of it in I,ady Morgan's novel of 
 O'Donnell. 
 
 The scenery around is extremely fine. The castle 
 and town lie at one end of the most magnificent 
 defile in Ireland, It is known as the Pass of Barnes 
 Gap, and is thus described by those graceful writers 
 Mr. and Mrs. S. C. Hall: — 
 
 'It is above four miles in length, between moun- 
 tains of prodigious height, which soar above the 
 comparatively narrow way, and seem linked with 
 the clouds that continually rest above them. The 
 road is level the whole distance, nature having, as 
 it were, formed it between these huge mountains in 
 order to surmount a barrier that would be other- 
 wise completely impassible. All along the course, 
 from its commencement to its termination, rushes a 
 remarkably rapid river, foaming over enormous 
 masses of rocks, which every now and then divert 
 its passage, forcing into a channel that, after taking 
 a circuitous route, again progresses onw.irds by 
 the side of the traveller. The mountains pour doT^Ti 
 innumerable contributions, which seem to the far- 
 off spectator only thin and narrow streams, but, 
 approached nearer, become broad and deep rivers, 
 forming cataracts at almost every yard. 
 
 'Our visit to this singularly stupendous pass was 
 made at a lucky period; the day previous there had 
 been a heavy fall of rain, and while we rode through 
 it, as it were that we might see the great natural 
 marvel to advantage, the reader will imagine that 
 every tiny rivulet had been converted into a rapid 
 river, while the river had been swelled into an ab- 
 solute torrent. When this had been nearly passed, 
 •we found ourselves on the brow of a high hill, from 
 which we looked down on a rich and fertile valley, 
 in the centre of which was Lough Eske, one of the 
 smallest, but one of the most pleasing and beautiful 
 of the lakes of the counrty.' 
 
 Of the chieftains who, by their deeds of heroism 
 and ferocity, have rendered this pass famous, we 
 could not select a more distinguished one for a pass- 
 ing notice than Sir Cahir O'Dogherty, a determined 
 enemy of the English and Scots, and whose revolt 
 n 1608 led to the plantation scheme of James I. 
 This intrepid warrior had been provoked to revolt 
 by a personal insult, and was in the outset very 
 successful, slaying the English governors of the 
 TJlster towns, and levying contributions on the 
 whole country side. James' favorite plantation 
 scheme had not as yet been carried out, but already 
 many Scots had settled themselves along the allu- 
 vial lands that border the Loughs Foylc and Swil- 
 ly, and it was Sir Cahir's most desired end and aim 
 to extirpate the intruders. At length, in a desperate 
 battle with the English, he and the greater portion 
 of his followers perished, and peace was restored to 
 these fine districts. 
 
 [Of the manner in which this renowned chieftain 
 met his death, there are many conflicting state- 
 ments, but a tradition implicitly believed by the 
 peasantry of the country, is too romantic, and, con- 
 sidering the condition nf the province and character 
 of the people at the period, too probable to be lightly 
 passed over. We refer our readers for an account ot 
 Sir Cahir's death to No. 6, vol. I., Irish Miscel- 
 lany.] 
 In a wUd coast district, 1 ke Donegal, with its 
 
 rugged cliffs and innumerable indentations, it is not 
 to be wondered at that, nniongt the uneducated, a 
 belief in fairies should be as rife as in the remote 
 and perhaps less polished regions of the west. In 
 Donegal, the 'good people,' or, as Ossian and other 
 bards call them, 'the spirits of the hill,' are very 
 much respected. They arc supposed to dwell in 
 pleasant hills, raths, moats, &c., and although in 
 their original shape but a few inches high, have the 
 power to assume any form, and frequently, cither 
 for benevolent or mischievous purposes, take upon 
 themselves the humiin one. 
 
 They difier materially from the fairies of England, 
 and we think we shall amuse our readers by making 
 them more familiar with these genuine Irish spirits, 
 or elves, or, as the natives term them, partly from 
 fear, and partly from affection, 'good people." They 
 have an airy, almost transparent body, and so del- 
 icate is their form, that a dew drop, when they 
 dance on it, trembles, but never breaks. Both 
 sexes are of e.xtroadinary beauty, and mortal beings 
 cai.not be compared with them. They do not live 
 alone or in pairs, but always in large societies. 
 They are invisible to man, particularly in the day- 
 time, and as they can be present and hear what is 
 said, the peasantry never speak of them but with 
 caution and respect, terming them the good people 
 or their friends, as any other name would offend 
 them. If a great cloud of dust rises on the road, 
 it is a sign that they are about to change their res- 
 idence and remove to another place, and the invisi- 
 ble travellers are always saluted with a respectful 
 bow. Every part of their dwellings is decorated in 
 the most splendid and magnificent manner, and the 
 pleasing music which has issued from them in the 
 night has delighted those who have been so fortu- 
 nate as to hear it. During the summer nights, 
 when the moon shines, and particularly in harvest 
 time, the elves come out of their secret dwellings, 
 and assemble for the dance in certain favorite spots, 
 which are hidden and secluded places, such as 
 mountain valleys, meadows near streams andbrooks, 
 churchyards where men seldom come. In the first 
 rays of the morning sun, they again vanish with a 
 noise resembling that of a swarm of bees or flies. 
 
 Their garments are as white as snow, sometimes 
 shining like silver. A hat or cap is indispensable, 
 for which purpose they generally select the red 
 Howers of the fox-glove, and by it different parties 
 are distinguished. The secret and magic power of 
 the elves is so great as scarcely to know any bounds. 
 Before their breath all human energy fails. They 
 sometimes communicate supernatural knowledge to 
 men, and if a person is seen walking up and down 
 alone, moving his lips as one half distraught, it is a 
 sign that an elf is invisibly present and instructing 
 him. They are marvellously temperate, merely re- 
 freshing themselves with dew drops, not mountain, 
 which they collect from the leaves. Their power 
 over the human race is peculiar, and in some <-e- 
 grce unlimited. It is believed that they punish all 
 who inquisitively approach or tease them; to those 
 who are friendly and confide in them they are 
 obliging and well-meaning. They remove humps 
 from the shoulder, make presents of new articles of 
 clothing, and undertake to grant requests. 
 
 But they are supposed to have another and very 
 peculiar connection with mortals. It seems as if 
 they divided among themselves the souls of men, 
 and considered them thenceforth as their property. 
 Ucnee certain families have their particular elves, 
 to whom they are devoted, in return for which, 
 however, they receive from them help and assist- 
 ance in critical moments, and often recovery from 
 mortal diseases. But as, after death, they become 
 the jjroperty of their elves, the death of a man is 
 always to them a festival, at which one of their 
 own body enters into their society. Therefore they 
 require that people shall be present at funerals, and 
 pay them reverence. They celebrate an interment 
 
 like a wedding, by dancing on the grave, and it is 
 for this reason thut they select churchyards for their 
 favorite places of resort. 
 
 The different parties of these supernatural beings 
 hate and make war on each other with as much an- 
 imosity as nations among mankind; their combats 
 take place in the night, in cross-roads, and they 
 often do not separate until daybreak parts them. 
 This connection of men with a quiet and good trine 
 of spirits, far from being frightful, would rather be 
 beneficial, but the elves appear in a dubious char- 
 acter, both evil and good are combined in their na- 
 ture, and they show a dark as well as a fair side. 
 T'hey are angels expelled from heaven, who have 
 not fallen into hell, but are in fear and doubt re- 
 specting their future state, and whether they shall 
 find mercy at the day of judgment. This mixture 
 of the dark and malevolent is visibly manifested in 
 their actions and inclinations. If, in remembrance 
 of their original happy condition, they are benifi- 
 cent and friendly towards man, the evil principle 
 within them prompts them to malicious and injuri- 
 ous tricks. Their beauty, the wondrous splendor 
 of their dwellings, their sprightliness, is nothing 
 more than illusive show, and their true figure, 
 which is frightfully ugly, inspires terror. If, as is 
 but rarely the case, they are seen in the daytime, 
 their countenances appear to be wrinkled with age, 
 or, as people express it, 'like a withered cauli- 
 flower;' a little nose, red eyes, and hair hoary with 
 extreme age. 
 
 One of their evil propensities consists in stealing 
 healthy and fine children from their mothers, and 
 substituting in their room a changeling who bears 
 some resemblance to the stolen infant, but is, in 
 fact, only an ugly and sickly elf. He manifests 
 every evil disposition, is malicious, mischievous, 
 and, though insatiable as to food, does not thrive. 
 When the name of God is mentioned, he begins to 
 laugh; otherwise he never speaks, till, being obliged 
 to do so by artifice, his age is betrayed by his voice, 
 which is that of a very old man. The love of music 
 shows itself in him as well as extraordinary pro- 
 ficiency; supernatural energies are manifested in 
 the power with which he obliges everything, even 
 inanimate objects, to dance. Wherever he comes 
 he brings ruin; a series of misfortunes succeed each 
 other; the cattle become sick, the house falls into 
 decay, and every enterprise proves abortive. If he 
 is recognized and threatened, he makes himself in- 
 visible and escapes; he dislikes running water, and, 
 if he is carried on a bridge, he jumps over, and, 
 sitting upon the waves, plays on his pipe, and re- 
 turns to his own people. 
 
 Such are the attributes of ths good folk who used 
 to inhabit the romantic nooks and corners of Ire- 
 land, buj who now, sad to relate, are fast disap- 
 pearing before the march of those ruthless conquer- 
 ors — reason and common sense. The elves, wicked 
 and good, must all vanish in the beams of the sun 
 destined at no distant day to rise over the gem of 
 the western sea, and lend brilliancy to the 'good 
 time' for which it has so long waited. 
 
 FoRMEn Times. — Light is intended by our Maker 
 for action, and darkness for rest. In the fourteenth 
 ccnturv the shops in Paris were opened at four in the 
 morning. The King of I'rance dined at eight in the 
 fnorning, and retired to his lied chamber at the same 
 hour in the evening. During the reign of Henry the 
 VIII., faijIiionaMe people in England breakfasted at 
 seven in ih»morning, and dined at ten in the forenoon. 
 In Eliz:iheth's time, llie nobility, geniiy and students 
 (lined at eleven forenoon, and supped between five and 
 six afternoon. In the reign of Charles the II , four in 
 the afternoon whs the appointed hour for acting plays. 
 The diversions of the day were touniament, tennis, 
 hunting, racing, and such active exercises. Formerly ac- 
 tive exercises prevailed among robust and plain people ; 
 the milder pleasures of society prevail as manners refine. 
 
IRISH MISCELLAI^y. 
 
 115 
 
 >VELINESS IN IRISH mMnurn 
 
 I Imd well iiigli ndor'd Evelina, 
 So late tVom the Coiitiucnt come, 
 
 But I thouglit upon feithl'ul Malviim, 
 A.s I'uir, but a ' keeper at home.' 
 
 Agniu, from this bright Evelina, 
 
 Adorned in a pay 'I'upcan hat, 
 I was rescued in time by Malvina, 
 
 In a bonnet of Irit^h straw plat. 
 
 In a rich Cashmere shawl, Evelina 
 Aimed a wound at my wavering heart; 
 
 But an Irish silk scarf, my Malvina 
 Waved between, and averted the dart. 
 
 A glove of Eripon's, Evelina 
 Drew gracefully over her arm; 
 
 But the Limerick one ot Malvina 
 Had a native and conquering charm. 
 
 In a French broidered robe, Evelina 
 
 My wandering senses beset; 
 But my guardian stept Ibith in Malvina, 
 
 Attired in our own tabinet. 
 
 Decked by Spain, India, France, Evelina 
 At the revel was ' murdering sleep ' ; 
 
 While in fancy I saw fair Malvina 
 View industry's ruins, and weep. 
 
 Adieu then, said I, Evelina- 
 She hummed one ofltitly's songs; 
 
 But I heard the sweet harp ot Malvina 
 Complaining of green Erin's wrongs — 
 
 That her heaven-favored sons ever hasted 
 To leave her forlorn and .distressed ; 
 
 And the wealth of her rich valleys wasted, 
 In regions less lovely and blest. 
 
 THE EFFECTS OF FEAR. 
 
 A NARRATIVE Or FACTS. 
 
 The circumstances which give rise to fear are of 
 very dissiinilar natures — sometimes the cause is lu- 
 dicrous, often, too often, serious. Sometimes fear 
 arises from a natural cause, and not unfrequently 
 from a. supposed supernatural ; but arise from what 
 cause it may, ludicrous, serious, natural, or super- 
 natural, it is admitted by all that fear is a very un- 
 pleasant sensation to the person laboring under its 
 iufiuence — has frequently led to very serious 
 results, and the paroxysm has often ended in the 
 most lamentable manner. Pear we believe to be as 
 inherent a principle of nature, and as closely bound 
 up with humanity as the passion of love, or any 
 other of the many feelings that either honor or dis- 
 grace human nature : it is an involuntary convul- 
 sion ; and an individual could as easily prevent a 
 fit of coughing while laboring under influenza, as 
 an attack of fear when induced by time, place, cir- 
 cumstances and matter. 
 
 It is not our intention to enter into a philosophi- 
 cal definition of the passion of fear. There are none 
 who do not know what it is; and therefore, without 
 further preface, we proceed to give a practical illus- 
 tration of its effects. 
 
 John M'V , or, as he was familiarly called, 
 
 Tippy Bobby, not many years since carried on the 
 
 business of a barber in the town of D . In 
 
 person, he was rather diminutive, not exceeding 
 four feet eight inches ; but in his youth possessed 
 as great a share of life, and as high an opinion of 
 himself, as ever was contained in a body twice the 
 dimensions; for as he was wont to say, if he had a 
 small body he had a large soul, and, 'it is not the 
 size of a man, but the spirit of a man that consti- 
 tutes the man ;' and certainly, as he bustled through 
 the street, with head erect, and elbows squared, to 
 attend the many calls on him to beautify the per- 
 son, and bedizen the locks of his numerous fair 
 customers, his appearance proclaimed his self-suffi- 
 ciency and the consequence he attached to his office 
 in no very small degree. 
 
 But it was within the walls of his domicUe that 
 John shone forth in all his glory, while operatin" 
 on the visages of his penny-a-shave customers ; and 
 to do him justice, few could equal him in the case, 
 smoothness and rapidity of his shave. Light and 
 
 de-frize of 'd'^iill4>|,5!j'? moved down the chevaux- I 
 of every description of jaw, or dug into the Tl'dijVKS. 
 of a deeply pock-pitted countenance. Obliged to 
 use a stool to reach the elevation of the chin, which 
 ho mounted with the air of a Cicero ascending the 
 rostrum, he tucked in the napkin in the most scien- 
 tific manner, and flourished his razor and applied 
 his brush with inimitable grace, filling the ears 
 with his oratory, as he occasionally did the mouth 
 with his suds ; for John thought, that as he had a 
 prescriptive right to take every man by the nose, he 
 might, without offence, be indulged in a joke ; and 
 being on the whole a very useful member of society, 
 and withal a right merry little fellow, he was in- 
 dulged, and his shop was the resort of all those who 
 duly appreciated the luxury of an anodyne shave, 
 heightened and seasoned by a sprinkling of news, 
 flattery or scandal. 
 
 Thus John's batchelorship rolled on ; but man 
 is not born for a life of enjoyment ; and these palmy 
 days of his existence could not last for ever. Gold- 
 smith says in his Vicar of Wakefield, that 'the for- 
 tunate events of a man's life are generally those of 
 his own procuring;' he might have added the unfor- 
 tunate ahso, so it proved at least with John. In an 
 evil hour he took unto him a wife — and verily she 
 was aTartar — the perfect reverse of himself — coarse 
 and bulky, strong and lusty, an Amazon in her ap- 
 pearance, and a termagant in her manner ; before 
 the influence of her malignant star John's sun quick- 
 ly set. She soon began to assert her superiority ; 
 and alter a few incfticient kicks, the meek and gen- 
 tle spirit of the little man quailed beneath the light- 
 ning of her frown, and gradually but surely his 
 spirit was broken, and the poor fellow settled down 
 despondingly into that most abject of humanity — a 
 hen-pecked husband. 
 
 In addition to her other good qualities, Mrs. M'V. 
 was s confirmed dramraer ; and I still can fancy her 
 fiery, bloated, overgrown appearance, as she filled 
 with arms akimbo the door of John's once happy 
 home, and poured forth her vituperation and abuse 
 on all who came within the range of her discursive 
 fancy. Her unfortunate helpmate, of whom per- 
 haps you might catch a glimpse under her elbow, 
 generally came in for the largest share ; while crest- 
 fallen and chop-fallen, only the shadow of what be- 
 fore was scarcely more than a shadow, he would lis- 
 ten in silence until the tempest would exhaust itself. 
 Occasionally, when beyond the shot of her battery, 
 a flash of his native fire would break forth — his 
 tongue would become unchained — his elbows would 
 again mechanically square, and his head would 
 erect itself as of old ; but a single twinkle of herbasi 
 lisk eye was sufficient to recall him to a sense of 
 his hopeless situation, dispel his day-dream of hap- 
 piness, cast a blight on his enjoyments, and crush 
 him into hopeless nothingness. 
 
 ' 'Tis a long lane has no turn.' So says the pro- 
 verb. After a few years thus spent in connubial 
 bliss, the native fire of her temper, aided by the ar 
 titicial fire of the whiskey, kindly came to John's re 
 lief, and drying up the springs of life, inflammation 
 of the liver took her off, with the unanimous con- 
 sent of all her friends. She left a few pledges of her 
 love behind, and John felt himself again a man, and 
 once more began to breathe freely. But, reader, 
 have you ever observed a high mettled horse, or 
 perchance a pony, his native fire subdued — his will 
 conquered and kept within bounds by a strong rein 
 and powerful liand — he becomes submissive to the 
 will of the rider ; suddenly the rein snaps, and all 
 his former impetus returns ; on he dashes, heedless 
 of consequences and reckless of danger, ami proud 
 in the consciousness of regained liberty, perhaps 
 rushes madly over a precipice — just so it was with 
 poor John : his drag being removed, and freed 
 from the incunus that so long incumbered him, the 
 recoil of his spirits hurried him beyond the bounds 
 
 of propriety; he plunged eagerly into company, 
 drank deeply of the liquid poison, neglected hig 
 ruin. ' '"US hastening rapidly to 
 
 His friends beheld with pain the course lie was 
 pursuing ; they expostulated with him on the folly 
 of his conduct ; they set before him the melancholly 
 consequences, but without effect ; and knowing the 
 instinctive dread of his wife, which still hung about 
 him, they determined to try an experiment to fright 
 him into propriety. Accordingly, one night, after 
 he had as usual retired to rest in a state of intoxi- 
 cation, he was suddenly roused from his slumber, 
 and beheld a figure enveloped in white, the face, as 
 far as was uncovered, deadly pale, standing by his 
 bed, which announced itself to the terrified 
 man as the ghost of his dear, departed Mary 
 Anne. 
 
 John's teeth chattered, and a cold sweat bedewed 
 his forehead as he gazed on the apparition, which 
 commanded him in a hollow voice instantly to arise 
 and fall on his knees ; always accustomed to obey, 
 he mechanically crept from his bed and did the spec- 
 tre's bidding. Truly did he promise that he would 
 no more offend, and dreadful were the denuncia- 
 tions of wrath should he break his promise ; and 
 the scene was closed by swearing him, that he would 
 not for twelve months drink more than a naggiu 
 of spirits per day, to wit — one half in the morning, 
 and the other at noon ; after which he was ordered 
 to bed, and the ghost departed. 
 
 In the morning he awoke to a full consciousness 
 of the terrific events of the past night ; he would 
 willingly persuade himself it was all a dream, but 
 even a dream in which his wife was a party was not 
 one of the most agreeable description ; and to avoid 
 as much as possible, a recurrence of one of the same 
 nature, he arose, determined to fulfil to the letter 
 the import of his oath, and to commence the world 
 a new man ; but alas, little did he reckon on the 
 frailty of human nature. On entering his shop, his 
 friends were there to see how their plan worked. 
 Unfortunatelv they could not keep their own coun- 
 sel, but too plainly betrayed by their enquiries, and 
 suppressed mirth, the hoax they had played. The 
 truth flashed upon his mind ; and from sheer vexa- 
 tion that he should be made the object of their 
 sport, and the butt of their ridicule, he plunged 
 deeper into the mire, and that evening was put to 
 bed in a state of perfect insensibility. 
 
 Determined not to be foiled by the failure of their 
 first attempt, and foolishly wishing to enjoy the ter- 
 ror and perplexity of their unfortunate victim, they 
 that night made a second attack. Boused from 
 sleep by the most alarming noises and rough 
 usage, poor John was horrified Ut beholding not 
 only the spectre of his wife, but several others 
 around him. In a voice of fury she upbraided him 
 with the breach of his oath in the most cutting terms; 
 she rehearsed the various acts of her love and kind- 
 ness to him while on earth ; and finally declared, 
 that as there was no hope of his recovery here, she 
 was determined to bring him with her. John lis- 
 tened with a vacant stare to all that was said, his 
 teeth were clenched, his eyes were set, he neither 
 spoke or moved ; but \vhen they proceeded to put 
 her threats in execution by pulling him forcibly by 
 the heels out of bed, his whole frame became con- 
 vulsed : he gave a piercing scream of agony — it was 
 his last. They had carried their joke too far ; hu- 
 man nature could not bear it. Poor John was seiz- 
 ed with a fit in the hands of, shall I say, 
 his murderers, and before morning he was a 
 corpse. 
 
 The matter was hushed up ; it was supposed he 
 had died of apoplexy. The unlucky actors in the 
 tragedy certainly made the only reparation in their 
 power, by protecting and providing for his family ; 
 and at the present day, his son occupies his shop, 
 and fills his former situation in society. 
 
116 
 
 IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 EDWARD COLLINS. 
 
 A -nu'B sToy,^,,, together for five 
 jcSTa man Edward and Ellen Collins, during which 
 time three children blest their union, two of whom 
 died at a very early age ; but the tirst born, a beautiful 
 little girl, remained. 
 
 'Twas the approach of Christmas, and in those days 
 when that happy time was hailed with pleasure by the 
 peasant and the mechanic, music was heard under the 
 windows for many nights successively, and all seemed 
 joy and gladness of heart. Uow altered are the times 
 now. No waits now break the still gloom of the win- 
 ter's night, or cheer the few mechanics who sit up to 
 finish their labors. No servant is now called before 
 daylight to brighten her kitchen utensils. Now no 
 poet composes the new carol, nor even arc the old 
 ones repeated or sung. All seem mute and mclnn- 
 cholly. 'Tis ti-ue, indeed, ihut the season is observed 
 by some ; but it is only looked lo as ii time of drunk- 
 enness and immoraliiy. But to turn back to the good 
 old times. 
 
 A week or so before the festival, Edward Collins left 
 his home with four pounds in his pocket, to buy his 
 Christmas beef, coals, groceries, etc. Evening came, 
 no Edward returned. Ellen .sat by the window in sad 
 saspcnse, anxiously awaiting his return; her little girl 
 sat in the middle of the floor neglected and unheeded, 
 playing with some little toys. At length, wearied with 
 disappointed hope, Ellen's patience forsook her, she 
 could remain no longer in suspense. Heedless of the 
 interrogatories of her infant, she snatched her cloak 
 and OQt she ran. After searching many places in vain, 
 she returned home, and although in frantic plight, still 
 indulging the pleasing e.\peciaiion that Edward might 
 have returned during her absence — but her hopes were 
 vain : nothing had been heard of, or from him. She 
 fonnd her dear little infant with its head resting on the 
 sill of the window, where it had cried itself to sleep, 
 and removing it gently lo its bed, again rushed forth 
 in the hope of receiving some information relative to 
 her husband. Hetuming home the second time in a 
 slate of distraction, she recollected that he bad told 
 her while at breakfast that he had a tavern near 
 George's-qnay to call lo, to regulate some bells. This 
 cast a momentary gleam of joy over her hopes. Away 
 she ran to the place, where she learned that he had been 
 robbed of the four pounds, and that he had gone in 
 pursuit of a person who was suspected. This intelli- 
 gence, in some degree, relieved her mind, thinking 
 within herself that he had overtaken the ihief and had 
 thereby been detained. But hope had only been re- 
 Tived to find again a still greater depression. Twelve 
 o'clock was struck in long and heavy chimes, by the 
 parish clock — still no Edward. The whole long night 
 she sat by the window, her attentive car marking every 
 distant footstep. At last the lazy winter's morn broke 
 the murky mist — but no Edward returned. 
 
 Bills were now posted in every direction. 'Twas all 
 in vain — no information — no gleam ol hope shot a ray 
 across her benighted soul. She now got boats with 
 drags, thinking he might, in pursuing the robber to 
 some of the coal barges, have fallen or been thrown 
 overboard ; and by the persuasions of an old woman, 
 used the charm of the floating sheaf, and every time 
 the eddies would lam it, did she order the drag to the 
 ■pot. 
 
 She waa at length informed that had a person an- 
 swering the description of her husband been seen on 
 the quay the day before mentioned it would be impos- 
 sible for him to escape the press-gang ; a tender hav- 
 ing dropped down the channel, and there having been 
 a hot press foi men all the week, but on that day in 
 particular they had made a sweeping haul. 
 
 After some further inquiry, she found herself in some 
 degree relieved. She hastened home, kissed her child, 
 telling her that her father would soon return. But 
 this, instead of setting her young mind at rest, made 
 her more anxious. She daily continued to tease her 
 poor afflicted mother with — 'Oh my, oh my, when will 
 dada come home t I wonder what keeps him — he 
 
 promised me. a dtliWwJu* home."^ The mother's tears 
 would flow copiously, as she strove lo frame some ex- 
 cuse to the child ; and when the infant would see her 
 weep, she would weep also,though ignorant of the cause. 
 
 A considerable time passed away ere she received 
 any intelligence of her lost one. At length one morn- 
 ing as she sat at breakfast her ears 'were assailed by 
 the postman's loud call, 'Ellen Collins — ship letter — 
 one penny.' 'Oh 1 thank God," exclaimed Ellen, at 
 last — and seizing on the letter, she broke the seal with 
 all the cagi mess of hope and love. The substance of 
 the letter confirmed the report of the coal master. He 
 was pressed and hurried away in spite of all his impor- 
 tunities, and had no hope of being released. He ad- 
 vised Ellen to sell his tools, and with the money turn 
 her hand to some business till his return. This was a 
 dagger to her soul ; she swooned away, and it was a 
 considerable time before she was again brought to 
 consciousness The following week she rfceived an- 
 other letter, with an order to receive monthly money, 
 Edward's half pay. As soon as her health permitted, 
 she applied for and was regularly paid. Siill buoying 
 herself up with the hopes of his relurn, she in the sim- 
 ple fondness of her heart kept Edward's tools and 
 workshop ; the rent of which, with the apartments she 
 held herself, took within a few pence of the monthly 
 money. To maintain herself and child she labored 
 with self-destroying attention at plain work, by which 
 she could merely procure a scanty support. 
 
 Thus she went on for two years and a few months, 
 still hoping. One day as u^ual, she attended the cus- 
 tom-house for the allowance she received. The clerk 
 who used to pay her, seeing her stand amongst a 
 crowd of women, cast his eyes to the book, and said, 
 Mrs. Collins, I am sorry to inform you that your 
 money is stopped. 
 
 Imagination can scarcely portray her distress, she 
 staggered and was prevented falling by the women who 
 her carried her away. 
 
 Her situation now became alarming. 'Tis true she 
 had plenty, of work, but taking one shilling and six- 
 pence rent out of her earnings, left her but three, and 
 sometimes only two shillings and sixpence, to support 
 herself and daughter, still living in hope that her Ed- 
 ward would yet return. She was now advised to go 
 to the war-office and know at once if he was dead or 
 alive. She did so. After some search the clerk laid 
 open the book before her, where it appeared that in the 
 list of the killed in a recent action, three of the name 
 of Edward Collins had fallen. 
 
 For three weeks after this she was unable to attend 
 to her work through lowness of spirits. In this state 
 of affairs the landlord would come in every week and 
 carry away some article to the amount of his rent, 
 telling her at the same time how sorry he was to see 
 her so reduced, that he would not sell her goods, and 
 that anything he took would bo safe until in her power 
 to redeem them. 
 
 After this she continued to struggle for nearly two 
 years. She had now given up all hopes of ever see- 
 ing her Edward again on earth. Oft did she wish to 
 be released from her earthly prison, that she might 
 meet him in the realms of never ending bliss. 
 
 One dark hazy morning in the beginning of Decem- 
 ber, a respectable dressed man entered a baker's shop 
 in the neighborhood where she lived, and asked the 
 baker's wife who was attending the shop, if one Ed- 
 ward Collins lived thereabouts. The baker's wife told 
 him all about the unfortunate circumstance ; how he 
 was taken by the press-gang and dragged away ; then 
 of the misery in which poor Mrs. Collins lived. Whilst 
 they were thus conversing, a beautiful little girl came 
 in, called for a quart of raspings and laid down a half- 
 penny. 
 
 'You saw that little girl 1 that is a daughter of the 
 unfortunate Collins.' 
 
 'Eh ! the daughter,' exclaimed the stranger, clap- 
 ping his hand on his eyes, and rushing out of the door, 
 darted down the street, overtook the child, and threw 
 some shillings into her bosom, and disappeared in an 
 instant. 
 
 jiooat twelve o'clock at noon, a woman ovpoarg,! 
 waddling up the street under a basket, heavy laden 
 with beef and mutton. Entering the court, she cried 
 out in a coarse loud voice, 'Is it here Mrs. Collins lives?' 
 
 The first to answer was the landlord, who, on seeing 
 the load, told her, that a Mrs. Collins lived there, but 
 such a basket could nut be for her, she must mistake. 
 
 The basket woman insisted she was right. There 
 she was ordered to leave it, and there she would leave 
 it, and no where else. 
 
 'Oh ! very well, very well,' was his reply, ' you'll 
 soon be walking back for it 1 can tell you. 'Pon my 
 word, a iine basket for a beggar and not able to pay 
 her rent.' In he ran to his wife. 'Be dad,' said he, 
 'this is not a bad thing neither. There is a basket of 
 beef and mutton gone into Mrs. Collins fit for an al- 
 derman's table. No matter, she owes me three weeks 
 rent today, and as there is nothing in her room of that 
 value, I think a piece of that beef will just match me. 
 However, I'll wait till evening, that I may be certain 
 whether it be her's or not, though I'm pretty sure the 
 right owner will be srnding for it soon.' 
 
 In the meantime the basket woman drove in the door 
 of the gloomy room. 
 
 'Is it here where Mrs. Collins lives ?' 
 
 'Yes. What's your will, my good woman,' was the 
 answer. 
 
 Without further questions the basket woman turned 
 her back to an old deal table to disengage her neck from 
 the leather strap of her basket, and began to unload it. 
 
 'What i^^eans this '.' said Mrs. Collins, in amazement. 
 
 'Why, ma'am, have I done any harm to the table '!' 
 was the reply. 'Troth, there's no one could think so 
 plentiful a gintlenian would have such a bad furnished 
 kitchen. God bless him at any rate ; sure its myself 
 1 ughtn't to make remarks; for I may go home for the 
 day and get a glass too out of the liulf-ctown he gave 
 inc.' By the time she had run over this soliloquy, her 
 basket was emptied. 
 
 'My good woman,' said Mrs. Collins, 'I hope you 
 counted the sundry joints ; I know you'll soon be back 
 for I hem.' 
 
 'Faix, ma'am, I never was mistaken yet in anyplace 
 that 1 was sent to. Good day, an' God bless you.' 
 
 What to think of this day's events, puzzled poor 
 Ellen, 'Ah, mother,' cried her little daughter, 'maybe 
 it was that good gintleman that gave me the four shil- 
 lings this morning that sent it. Shall I cut a bit of it 
 and broil it, mother 1 It's so long since I tasted a bit 
 of meat that I'm longing for a morsel of it.' 
 
 'Don't attempt the like,' replied Ellen, 'till we see 
 farther. My gracious ! who could have sent it V 
 
 While she was thus speaking to her daughter, the 
 tramp of four coal porters were heard entering the 
 court, each bearing a bag of coal on his back. 
 
 'Is it here Mrs. Collins lives ;' was their shout. 
 
 Out ran the landlord. '1 believe you're all mad to- 
 day,' said he, in a surly tone, 'you'll find her in the 
 back parlor.' 
 
 'Ye might answer a body civil, whoever ye are,' re- 
 plied the porters. 
 
 'Here's the coals, Mrs. Collins ; where shall we throw 
 them.' 
 
 'What coals ? I ordered no coals,' said poor Ellen. 
 
 'Oh ! but were ordered to leave them here.' 
 
 'By whom '!' questioned Mrs. Collins, with hasty 
 speech. 
 
 'Begad, ma'am, we can't say, but the masiher of the 
 vessel bid us leave them here, and not take them back 
 for any one.' 
 
 'Good gracious,' said Ellen, 'what can all this mean," 
 as she heard another shout in the court. 
 
 'Is it here, Mrs. Collins lives ?' 
 
 'Yes, I am Mrs. Collins,' was her reply; when an 
 other porter entered with hams, butter, bacon and every 
 other thing that a huxter's shop could produce. Those 
 were laid on the floor. While this basket was unload- 
 ing again, the shout of another porter was heard : — 'Is 
 it here Mrs. Collins lives 1' 
 
 This porter brought tea, sugar, wine and whiskey, 
 with numerous etceteri.s ; nor did he leave the room 
 till the baker and chandler shouted, 'is it here, Mrs. 
 Collins lives !' 
 
 The landlord stood directing, yet almost distracted 
 to know what it all could mean ; even the windows of 
 the court were crowded with gapers. As to poor Ellen 
 she sat motionless, looking at it all. She left her 
 door wide open. 'If any one comes to claim them,' 
 said she, 'they cannot say that I had them concealed. 
 
 'I hope no one will come for them,' replied the 
 daughter — 'sure all that's here would open a shop.' 
 
 While she was thus discoursing, another voice was 
 heard at the thrcshhold— 'Is it here, Jlrs. Collins lives?' 
 'Oh ! Edward, Edward !' she exclaimed, springing to 
 the door — 'twas Edward Collins himself. 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 117 
 
 THE IRISH SKYLARK. 
 
 Of the many birds passing under the 
 notice of the ornithologist, all ar« 
 found adeciuatcly endowed by nature ; 
 some with a perfection of form, and 
 others with beauty and brilliancy of 
 plumage. Some there are whicli to a 
 casual observer nature would appear to 
 have neglected, and left destitute of 
 any attractions. To which we miglit 
 reply — she has done so, but only to 
 lavish all her resources in enriching 
 them with a matchless and over-com- 
 pensating melody. To this class be- 
 long the unrivalled songsters of every 
 clime — the mocking bird of the far 
 West, the red-wing of Norway, the 
 nightingale of England, and the sky- 
 lark of Ireland. Thus is the skylark 
 introduced to our notice, not as the 
 favorite of a class, but of the commu- 
 nity, its admirers ranking equally 
 amongst the noblest as the lowliest. 
 Unobtrusive in habits as in its plu- 
 mage, its crouching attitude in the 
 meadow and stubble-field, concealed 
 during summer by the height of the 
 meadow grass, and in winter by in- 
 equalities of the broken earth, together 
 with its habit of never perching upon 
 trees, might cause it to appear more 
 sparingly distributed than it really is 
 were it not for its impatient song, 
 which prompts it to bid farewell to 
 fear, and soar heavenward with its 
 melody. Breeding on the ground, its most favorite 
 place to nidify in is the impressed footmarks of the 
 cattle, made in damp soil, which offers, when harden- 
 ed by the sun, a sufficient protection for the young. 
 It must be a matter of surprise that the brood of the 
 skylark, apparently so inadequately protected, should 
 escape the stray footsteps of cattle, or the numerous 
 enemies the open situation e.Kposes it to. 
 
 As to the song of this species, so pre-eminently de- 
 lightful, we might well feel delicate in venturing on a 
 subject which has formed a favorite theme with the 
 poets of all Europe. From the quaint style of Chaucer 
 to the ' bonnie lark ' of Burns, all have selected this 
 ' neebur sweet ' as the most worthy of their choicest 
 praise. 
 
 When singing on the earth, before and after the 
 breeding season, a clod or bank is the station general- 
 ly chosen, from which it pours forth its melody. But 
 it is at daybreak that 
 
 ' His large heart in little breast exulting sings.' 
 Then, amid the silence of early dawn — 
 ' Up springs the lark, 
 
 Shrill-voiced and loud, the meesecger of morn. 
 
 Ere yet the shadows fly, he, mounted, singe 
 
 Amid the dawning clouds, and from their haunts 
 
 Calls up the tunelul natione.' 
 
 Although generally the song of the lark is asso- 
 ciated with morning, on several occasions we have 
 heard it as late as midnight; but these were nights of 
 unusual moonlight and brightness, and at such times, 
 if disturbed, the skylark utters a few hurried notes 
 whilst flying off. Its song, whilst on the ascent and 
 descent, is so varied, that many persons can easily de- 
 tect the difference without observing the bird, the 
 notes in the ascent being of a gushing impatience, 
 hurried ont, as it were, from an excessive overflow of 
 melody, which, becoming gradually modulated when 
 at an elevation, as if satislicd wiih its efforts, it sinks 
 gradually towards the earih, with a sadder and more 
 subdued sirain. None of the poets have been attentive 
 enough to observe this except the great Florentine, 
 who, in his Divina Comcdia — 
 
 ' Like to the lark. 
 
 That, warbling in ttic air, expatiates long; 
 
 Then, thrilling out her lust sweet melody, 
 
 Drops, satiate with the sweetness.' 
 If the term bird-worship be allowable, we know no 
 
 THE IRISH SKYLARK, 
 people of any country in the world to which it is more 
 applicable than our own, jior any bird more worthy of 
 that eminence than the skylark. 
 
 Mentioned in a recent work on Natural History as 
 being so valuable for its song as to bring the extrava- 
 gant price of twelve or fifteen shillings in London, if 
 the author had the opportunity of pricing some of the 
 birds exposed at the windows of the working shoe- 
 makers in Dublin, he would find that they would aver- 
 age from one to three pounds, and the majority could 
 not be purchased for ' love or money." Such has been 
 the answer of many who would starve themselves, if 
 necessary, to feed their worshipped bird. Such was 
 the answer of Huggart, a poor chandler in Belfast, 
 who refused the offer of a cow for his favorite skylark. 
 
 We know that the emigrant, who, having reared 
 some favorite lark, takes it with him to another land, 
 with a sod of Irish earth placed beneath it, that one 
 day a portion of clay from the old land may cover 
 him. 
 
 ON COMETS. 
 
 There is no branch of physical astronomy more dif- 
 ficult to explain or understand than the theory of 
 comets, which is at present but very imperfectly in- 
 vestigated, even by the most skilful astronomers. 
 Comets have no visible disc, and shine with a faint 
 nebulous light, accompanied with a train or tail turned 
 from the sun. They appear in every region of the 
 heavens, and^movein every possible direction. In the 
 ages of ignorance and superstition, they were regarded 
 as the infallible harbingers of great political and physi- 
 cal convulsions; wars, pestilence, and famine, were 
 among the dreadful evils which they foretold. But 
 we trust that the age of mental darknesivand supersti- 
 tion is now fled, for, although modem philosophy is 
 yet unable to discover the ualure and use of comets, 
 they lire at present regarded only as bodies attached to 
 the different systems of the universe for some useful 
 pur[jpsc, which the sagacity of some future ages will, 
 perhaps, be able to explain. The laws by which thsy 
 move, or, in other words, the elements of no less than 
 ninety-seven, have been observed and calculated from 
 the year 837 till the present time, of which 24 have 
 passed between the orbits of Mercury and the sun, 33 
 between the orbits of Mercury and Venus, 21 between 
 the orbits of Venus and our earth, 15 between the or- 
 
 bits of the earth and Mars, 3 between 
 the orbs of Mars and Ceres, and I be- 
 tween the orbit of Ceres and .lupiter. 
 Their orbits are inclined in every pos- 
 sible angle ; but there are only eight 
 whose inclination is less than ten de- 
 gress, consequently there is less dan- 
 ger of their interfering with the planet- 
 ary bodies. When we examine a 
 comet with a good telescope, it appears 
 like a mass of vapor, surrounding a 
 dark nucleus, of different degress of 
 density in different comets. As it ap- 
 proaches the sun, its pale cloudy light 
 liocomes more brilliant, and when it 
 reaches its perihelion, it is often bright- 
 er than the planets. The tails are 
 generally concave towards the sun, the 
 fixed stars are always visible through 
 them, and sometimes they are so bril- 
 liant that they have been distinguished 
 during full moon, and even after the 
 ri^ing of the sun. Astronomers have 
 entertained various opinions respecting 
 the comets. The Peripatetics sup- 
 posed they were meteors generated in 
 the higher regions of our atmosphere, 
 after the nature of falling stars. But 
 it has been demonstrated that they 
 move in higher regions than the moon, 
 and consequently they are above the 
 earth's atmosphere. Tycho Brahe and 
 Appian imagined that the tail was oc- 
 casioned by the rays of the sun trans- 
 mitted through the nucleus of the 
 comet, -which they supposed were transparent like a 
 lens. Kepler thought that it was the atmosphere of 
 the comet driven behind it by the impulsion of the 
 sun's rays. Descartes ascribed the phenomenon to the 
 refraction of the nucleus. Sir Isaac Newton main- 
 tained that the tail of the comet is a thin va- 
 pour ascending by means of the sun's heat, as smoke 
 or vapour does from the earth. Enter supposed that 
 the heat is produced by the impulsion of the solar rays 
 driving off the atmosphere of the comet, and that the 
 curvature of the tail is the combined effect of this im- 
 pulsive force, and the gravitation of the atmospherical 
 particles to the nucleus of the comet. Dr. Hamilton, 
 on the other hand, thought it a stream of electric mat- 
 ter issuing from the body of the comet. From these 
 and various other accounts, the reader will probably 
 coincide with the writer's opinion, which is, that the 
 theory of comets has never yet been discovered. 
 Neither is there sufficient authority for maintaing that 
 they are so intensejy hot when approaching the sun. 
 The chemical properties of their atmosphere may be 
 such as will totally exclude the action of the calorific 
 rays of the sun from producing any great heat on the 
 nucleus of the comet ; and to maintain that these bodies 
 are emploved to convey back to the planets the electric 
 fluid, which some philosophers imagine is continually 
 dissipating — that one of tbem occasioned the great de- 
 luge which seems to have over-run our globe, and that 
 they are intended to supply the fuel dissipated by the 
 sun — is to give loose reins to conjecture, without con- 
 tributing in the smallest degree to the progress of 
 science. 
 
 Leplace, who, as an astronomer, is entitled to 
 our highest respect, observes that the fears which the 
 appearance of comets at one time inspired have been 
 succeeded by an apprehension of another nature, lest 
 among the great number which traverse the planetary 
 system in every direction one of them should destroy 
 the earth. But, he says, they pass so rapidly near us 
 that the effect of their attraction is not to be feared. It 
 is only by striking the earth that they could produce 
 the dreadful effect ; but the shock, though possible, is 
 very improbable in the course of an ago. Nevertheless, 
 the small probability of such an event, if it be consi- 
 dered with respect to a long course of ages, may be- 
 come very great. We may imagine the effect of such 
 a shock upon the earth. 
 
118 
 
 IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 LADV BRINOON~AN OCCURRENCE OF THE 
 LAST CENTURV IN DUBLIN. 
 
 Id the good old diiys, or, an an Irishinun would 
 My, the real noctrcs umbrosiann, when sJiopa were 
 not called saloons, nor markets bazaars, when hair- 
 dressers did not advertise as artists, 'pour couper 
 lc8 cheveuB,' and charity sermons were not jobbing 
 speculations — which period, for exactness sake, we 
 will lay down obout seventy years ago — lived the 
 Dowager Lady Urindon, the disconsolate widow of 
 three worthy and short-lived consorts. AVhetlier 
 this occurred by fate, or the singular good fortune 
 of the lady, is not for nie to hint nt ; certain it is 
 that she obtained and got rid of them all at a quicker 
 pace tlian the young ladies of the present time, 
 albeit pupils of Logier and Montagu, can reasonably 
 calculate on being able to waltz away their help- 
 mates' properties, or music themselves into a suit of 
 sables. Lady Brindou, at the time of our story, 
 had been twenty years, or so, a widow, and never 
 could be prevailed on, or, as she said herself, to lis- 
 ten to a suitor's vows after the last irreparable 
 aflliction. She inhabited a very large, gloomy 
 looking mansion, which, by an ancient map of 
 our metropolis, I find to have stood in the centre 
 of a field not far from M church, as the build- 
 ing mania had not encroached so far then into the 
 country, as in our house-breaking generation. The 
 house was surrounded by a high dead wall, and 
 the mouldy wooden gate was never unbarred, except 
 to chosen and favorite visitors ; she was immensely 
 rich, kept up a numerous suite of servants, (there 
 never was a relative seen at her table), went twice 
 a year to the Castle, once a quarter disturbed the 
 dust in her crimson cushioned pew in Christ church, 
 and amused herself the remainder of the day with 
 her old China, and the novels of Pielding. Her 
 'une grande passion' was cards ; every variety of 
 game (I am wrong, she did not play ecarte), that 
 the invention of Iloyle could devise, were as famil- 
 iar to her as quacking to Dr. L , or pruning 
 
 to Sam llogers ; they were her manuscripts, her 
 library. She played high, bragged with spirit, and 
 always wagered considerably on the 'odd trick.' I 
 am told that when she lost, her anger, her fury was 
 dreadful ; she would curse the winners, and, dash- 
 ing the gold on the table, pour an entire flask of 
 wine into a large heraldric-mounted silver goblet, 
 and drain it at a draught. One of her companions 
 was a great tragedian, who is condemned to immor- 
 tality in the writings of him ' who blazed the comet 
 of a season ' — a man of great talent, who brought 
 her all the newest and most sinful tales of scandal 
 — revived her spirits when she was low, by quoting 
 Voltaire and Marmontel, and calmed her conscience 
 by the aid of French philosophy. He was invalu- 
 able, for he was also her ladyship's butt, and he 
 bore it all as he expected a legacy ; and he got one 
 — a stuffed parrot. The last of the respectable tri- 
 umvirate, was a gentleman who exercised the pro- 
 fession of medical doctor, and who, from rather a 
 curious coincidence, attended all her ladyship's hus- 
 bands in their last illness. His success, be it good 
 or bad, in this part of his practice, certainly had 
 such an effect in his neighborhood, that no one ven- 
 tured to call him in afterwards. He sustained no 
 loss,* however, by the desertion, for, after the death 
 of Lord Brindon, he set up his carriage and became 
 more intimate than ever with the dowager, over 
 whom he e.\erci-^ed a most unbounded and myste- 
 rious influence. She dreaded, hated, and was chain- 
 ed to him. In her wildest temper, a look or a frown 
 would paralyze her into motionlessness ; while be- 
 fore strangers he would be all cringing and syco- 
 phantic servility. The doctor's house adjoined her 
 ladyship's, with whopi he spent more hours than 
 he allotted to his family, to whom his behavior was 
 cruel and tyrannical. Many rumors, prejudicial to 
 the character of all, were circulated respecting their 
 meetings and intimacies, and were not disbelieved. 
 
 Lady Brindon was considered to be the worst and 
 most disgusting of human beings — a bad old wo- 
 man. 
 
 It was a Saturday evening in January i the usual 
 party were assembled in the drawing-room at an 
 early hour, as it was Lady Brindon's intention to go 
 to the castle that night. She had dined before the 
 customary time, to enjoy a hand at loo before she 
 retired to dress. The housekeeper was sitting in 
 her own apartment (a snug little Brussels carpeted 
 room, whose wainseottcd walls were hung with 
 tapestry and Hogarth's prints), reading the works 
 of Thomas Acquinas (translated), and enjoying a 
 pinch of Mr. Lundy Foot's sndff, which had not 
 yet come into fashion. The college bell was tolling 
 for night roll ; and, as she remarked the hour, won- 
 dered also at the length of time her mistress pro- 
 longed the game ; then giving the fire a stir, wliich 
 made it throw out an enlivenini; radience, reflected 
 in the burnished fender and opposite mirrors, which 
 testified her own diligence and economy, she^com- 
 posed herself again to her volume. Her thoughts 
 were not this night on the proper tension for study ; 
 the characters were passed over by her spectacle 
 aided optics, leaving no impression or idea behind ; 
 and the worthy old gentlewoman, perceiving her sit- 
 uation, wisely shut up the book, went over with it 
 to her private shelf, where she deposited it, and re- 
 turned wilh a large bottle labelled poison, but which 
 was varacious French brandy, and what was better, 
 smuggled. Wishing a relish for her cordial, she 
 pulled a bell, which was answered by Mr. Mahony 
 himself, the tasselled and powdered guardian of her 
 ladyship's cellar. By his agency a cold pie was pro- 
 cured, and the worthy subordinates sat down, like 
 the mice in the fable, to the remnants of the day's 
 feast. 
 
 'Did you hear any noise, Mrs. Lambert, last night 
 on the lobby r' 
 
 'Bless me ! what do you mean, Mr. Mahony ? 
 Do not alarm me — you know how timid I am, and 
 my residence with her ladyship is not calculated to 
 strengthen the delicacy of my nerves.' 
 
 'Well, I'd better not mention it. A glass of wine, 
 Mrs. Lambert. But had you been as long here as 
 I have staid, and seen one of the many horrid acts 
 I have been forced to look at, you would be afraid 
 to walk up stairs alone.' 
 
 'I declare I wish I was safe home out of this 
 house, the loneliness of it (a little more paste if you 
 please), and the violent passions of her ladyship, 
 
 make me quite unhappy. I really must but 
 
 bless me, there is the bell rung ! — again — gracious, 
 what noise is that ? 'tis like her voice.' 
 
 A crashing — a loud scream — and another vio- 
 lent pulling at the bell, interrupted and ended 
 their sociality, and hurried Mahony up stairs. When 
 he entered the room, the party had risen from their 
 seats ; the card-table was overturned — the cards 
 blazing in the fire — the gentlemen in loud and angry 
 altercation, and Lady Brindon fainting on a chair. 
 
 ' Give your mistress a glass of water, she is un- 
 well.' 
 
 She rallied her energies when she heard the com- 
 mand. 
 
 'No sir, I am perfectly well — I want no aid. 
 Send Lambcit to my toilet, Mahony, and have my 
 carriage brought round quick. Leave the room !' 
 
 The aslmishcd man rushed down stairs, and 
 gaspingly inquired : 
 
 'Mrs. Lambert, for God's sake tell me how many 
 gentlemen were playing cards with my mistress to- 
 night ?' 
 
 'A foolish question to ask me; surely n(f others 
 but Mr. M and Dr. Thompson.' 
 
 'Then, as certainly as I am a living man, there 
 was another in the room when I went in first. There 
 were three round the fire, which burnt up higher 
 than ever I saw it— but I could not see his face — but 
 it was dressed like my old master. But she is 
 
 ringing again ; Mrs. Lambert, hurry up to 
 her.' 
 
 'God help me, she'll be in one of her tempers to- 
 night.' 
 
 An hour after, the gentlemen having left the 
 house, Lady Brindon, hooped and diamonded, tak- 
 ing the key of her dressing room with her, was 
 handed into her earriogc and drove olf. 
 
 The Master of the Ceremonies had just made his 
 most exquisite and elaborate congee at the conclu- 
 sion of a minuet, when a bustling ever-green cour- 
 tier, a colonel in the Battle-axe Guards, forced a ' 
 [laasage among the long trains and lappets of alder- 
 men's, and other civic ladies, and whispered through 
 the rouge and false curls, a message into the cars of 
 Lady Brindon. She immediately left the vicc-rcgal 
 presence, and, pale, and passionless, faltered into 
 her carriage. As she drove through the streets, 
 she perceived a rushing of the people, a crowding 
 of the mob towards the direction she was driving in. 
 She pulled the check string and inquired the cause 
 from her servant. His answer was drowned in the 
 hollow rattling of a fire engine which flew past her 
 over the pavement ; and the air was heavy and 
 suffocating with a dense fog of sulphur and smoke. 
 When she turned into her own street, a loud cheer- 
 ing, as if in derision and scorn, called her attention 
 to a house blazing in conflagration, and darting up 
 its fiery particles to the black clouds that frowned 
 down in anger on the ruin. Her heart was sickened, 
 for she knew it to be her own. A passage was made 
 for her through the mass of firemen, spectators, 
 idlers and plunderers ; she stepped out, and calmly 
 looked on ; she thought not then of her plate, her 
 jewels and her pictures. Her mind was engrossed 
 by another and far difi'crent design. Thompson 
 was most zealous in his attempts to save some of 
 the property, and succeeded in rescuing various 
 parchments and leases of the estate. She drew him 
 aside and asked him in tones of horror, had he been 
 in her boudoir. 
 
 'It was impossible,' said he, 'to penetrate to it. 
 In that room, which you always kept locked, the 
 flames burst out first.' 
 
 The water which was now flooded upon the 
 flames, momentarily darkened their awful splendor; 
 but vain was every effort to subdue them — they, 
 like Medea's gifts, ceased not until they utterly 
 destroyed. Lady Brindon here remarked a young 
 stranger in a naval dress among the foremost in the 
 perilous task of working the engines ; she was told 
 by Thompson that he was his son, who had returned 
 that day after a voyage from China. She called him 
 to her and said : — 
 
 'Sir, I have seen your bravery, and it shall be re- 
 compensed — you can still befriend me. Listen — 
 dare to struggle up the staircase, in the first room 
 on your left, you will find a small bo.x on the table, 
 — it is clasped with iron, and is marked with my 
 name engraved in silver on it ; I have sworn on the 
 penalty of my soul, never to sleep a night without 
 that box being in my room. If you value your fa- 
 ther's life, and my immortal welfare, bring it to me, 
 for it contains what may hang your father and my- 
 self. Bring it, I say, and I will share with you one 
 half of the wealth still left me.' 
 
 'Lady Brindon, I shall try to save it, but not for 
 the sake of your polluted gold.' 
 
 He dashed among the falling walls, like Curtius 
 into the gulf, and an impenetrable cloud of smoke 
 greeted his entrance. There was a cry — he was 
 never seen more. 
 
 The heart of Thompson was unmoved — he heeded 
 not his perished son. He and his partner in villainy 
 grew pale, so very pale that the flames were reflect- 
 ed in their pallid ghastly features. With a demo- 
 niac smile he turned round to her, and asked her to 
 walk into his house, as she saw nothing more could 
 be done, and the night air was anwholesome. 
 
 'Not yet, Thompson, not yet. It is but right that 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 119 
 
 I should aec the bonfire that is provided at my own 
 expense ; 'tis the dearest I ever witnessed, and I 
 shall it out.' And she remained and saw it out. 
 
 \Vl>en the Inst spark was queufhed, and the last 
 beam of her mansion consumed, l.ady Brindon re- 
 tired to her room in Thompson's house. When 
 they met the ne.xt morning, the haggard counte- 
 ■ nanees of both evidenced the agonizing pangs with 
 which late awakened remorse had visited their har- 
 dened consciences. When the Sabbath bell rung 
 for service, Thompson, who had not been seen in a 
 consecrated temple for years, suddenly rose from 
 the breakfiist-table, and, beckoning in silence to his 
 youngest son to follow him, Kft the house. Lady 
 lirindon viewed him with wonder, but oifered no 
 remark, and shortly after sat down to write, at 
 which employment she continued the remainder of 
 the day. Thompson entered his parish church with 
 the air of a terrified and pursued criminal, who 
 seeks at the altar a sanctuary and asylum from ene- 
 mies who hunt him for his blood. He avoided his 
 own seat where his family always attended, and hid 
 himself in one of the back aisles, among the poor 
 and contrite, who go to pray and not to criticise. 
 He listened patiently to the conclusion of the ser- 
 vice, and then took a short path to his own house 
 through the unbuilt-on and unreclaimed fields. 
 His manner was less morose to his son, and he at- 
 tended in silence, and interrupted not the childish 
 prattling of the boy, who perceived his parent's de- 
 jection, and tried to cheer it away. 
 
 'Father, do you know what they say was the 
 cause of the fire last night i' 
 
 'How could I. But they will give a wise reason, 
 I dare say ; tell it to me.' 
 
 'I am almost afraid to say it ; but don't be angry 
 with me. It is reported that the devil was one of 
 your party at cards, and that he lost, and flung the 
 cards into the fire, and breathed upon all the room, 
 and ' 
 
 'Fie, AVilliam, to listen to the servants' ignorant 
 and superstitious stories ; never again repeat such 
 nonsense. But wait, William, you are not able to 
 get over that stile ; let me go first, and then I can 
 assist you.' 
 
 The son was much astonished to see his father 
 (when he had ascended the last step which led over 
 the wall which separated the field they were in from 
 Thompson's garden) start back, and grasp at the 
 branch of a tree, against which he reeled. 
 
 'So soon,' he murmured ; 'is it to be so soon ?' 
 
 'Father, what is the matter ? You look unwell.' 
 
 'William, tell me,' and he took his son's hand 
 
 'you are a good boy, and have been taught to speak 
 the truth ; tell me, did you see any figure leaning 
 over that wall and looking upon me ; it was like — 
 but did you see it ?' 
 
 'No, indeed, sir, I saw nothing, and how could 
 you ?' 
 
 'Peace, you foolish child, let us hurry home.' 
 
 Lady Brindon was still writing when they return- 
 ed. Thompson desired his family to leave the room 
 and having locked the door, took a chair and sat 
 down opposite her. 
 
 'You are busy to-day, madam, so have I been. I 
 have a message for you.' 
 
 He wrote down some words on his tablet, and 
 handed them to her. She trampled the writing 
 under her feet. 
 
 'You dreaming coward, what infernal scheme are 
 you how planning against me ?' 
 
 •None, madam ; but we are playing a game in 
 which I think we will both be losers.' 
 
 'Then you must have been grossly deceived by 
 imagination ; you never saw it.' 
 
 'It was not in the darkness of the night, when 
 imagination may be cheated by unreal phantasies, 
 and the faculties are powerless and weak, I saw it. 
 No. in the brightness of the noon-day gun, in com- 
 pany wiih my child, whose spotless purity should 
 
 have protected me, he confronted me, and fascinated 
 me with his accursed presence. The fiend has not 
 forgotten.' 
 
 'Then heaven have mercy on us both !' 
 
 'Amen, madam, we need it much.' 
 
 And their last conference was ended by the 
 prayer. 
 
 Thompson, complaining of a faintness and be- 
 numbing coldness, retired early to his bed chamber, 
 and was found next morning dead on the sofa, as if 
 in a tranquil and spirit-stealing slumber. 
 
 On the evening of the day on which his remains 
 were committed to the tomb. Lady Brindon, having 
 been left alone in her room, rung the bell violently. 
 As the servant hastened to obey the summons, he 
 heard a tremendous noise in the room, as though two 
 individuals were engaged in a scuffle, which was 
 succeeded the next moment by a dreadful crash 
 and heavy fall ; and, on opening the door, he found 
 her ladyship lying senseless on the floor— -the chair 
 on which she had been seated, together with the 
 tables on which the candles had been placed, all 
 overturned. And he afterwards positively affirmed, 
 that, as he entered the room, he saw something, 
 bearing a form which he could not well describe, 
 dash through the window in a vivid flame. A sur- 
 geon was instantly procured ; and after nearly an 
 hour's exertion, her ladyship once more gave signs 
 of animation ; but, on opening her eyes, with an 
 agonizing shriek, she exclaimed — 'there he is ! — 
 and again sunk back into a kind of swoon, from 
 which she never recovered. 
 
 The extraordinary circumstances which thus 
 caused her dissolution, formed, tor a considerable 
 time the table talk of the day, while the friends of 
 the deceased endeavored to make it appear that it 
 was merely the reflection of the candles, as their rays 
 flashed across the windows in their progress from 
 the table to the floor, which had operated on the 
 servant's vision in such a way as to produce a su- 
 pernatural appearance. 
 
 With the fame of the celebrated lady above referr- 
 ed to, we have no doubt that the greater proportion 
 of our Irish readers are well acquainted. As, how- 
 ever, there are two versions of the story, so far as 
 regards her ladyship's concluding days, we think it 
 well to mention, for the benefit of our readers, 
 that, by many, the concluding part of the 
 story, relative to her ladyship either having been 
 carried offer frightened to death by his black majes- 
 ty, or one of his satellites, is altogether a fiction ; 
 that, after the death of Thompson, she gave up the 
 world and never afterwards resumed her station at 
 the cathedral, castle, or card table. We understand 
 that her monument is still pointed out, adorned by 
 descending angels and weeping cupids, holding up 
 a tablet, which commemorates her charities and her 
 virtues, and we have little doubt, that as she was 
 rich and highly connected, she got an excellent 
 character in the newspapers of the day — at least, if 
 she did not, the newspapers of former days must 
 have been very different from what they are at 
 present. 
 
 Electioneering Ankcdote. — At the close of an 
 election at Lewes, the Duke of Newcastle was so 
 pleased with the conduct of a casting voter, that he 
 said — • My dear friend, I love you dearly ; you 're the 
 greatest man in the world ! I long to servo you ! 
 What can 1 do for you 1 ' ' May it please your grace, 
 an exciseman of this town is very old. I wish to suc- 
 ceed him as soon as he shall die.' 'Aye, that you 
 shall with all my heart. As soon as he is dead, set 
 out to me my dear friend ; be it night or day, insist 
 upon seeing me, sleeping or waking. If I am not at 
 Clarcmont, come to Lincoln's-inn-tields; if I am not at 
 Lincoln's-inn-liclds,come to court; if I am not at court, 
 never rest till you find me ; nay, I'll give orders for 
 you to be admitted, though tlie King and I were talk- 
 ing secrets together in the cabinei.' The voter swal- 
 lowed everything witb ecsiocy. The exciseman died 
 
 the following winter. As soon as the Duke's friend 
 was apprised of it, ho set off for London, and reached 
 Lineoln's-inn-fielda about two o'clock in the morning. 
 The King of Spain had, about this time, been seized 
 by a disorder, which seme of the English had been in- 
 duced to believe, from particular expresses, he could 
 not possibly survive. Amongst these the Duke of 
 Newcastle was the most credulous. On the very first 
 moment of receiving this intelligence, he had sent 
 couriers to Madrid, who were commanded to return 
 with the utmost haste, as soon as the death of his 
 Catholic Majesty should have been announced. Igno- 
 rant of the hour in which they might arrive, the Duke 
 gave the strictest orders to send any person to his 
 chamber who should desire admittance after he had 
 retired to rest. When the voter asked if he was at 
 home, the porter answered — ' Yes ; his grace has been 
 in bed some time, but we were directed to awaken him 
 as soon as you came.' ' Ah ! heaven bless him I I 
 know that the Duke always told me that I should 
 be welcome by night or by day. Pray show me up.' 
 The happy visitor was scarcely conducted to the door, 
 when he rushed into the Duke's bed chamber, and, 
 transported with joy, cried out — ' My lord, he's dead.' 
 
 ' That 's well, my dear friend ; I am glad of it, with 
 all my sonl. When did he die "! ' 
 
 'The morning before last, and please your grace.' 
 
 ' What ! so lately ? Why, my worthy good crea- 
 ture, you must have flown — the lightning itself could 
 not travel half so fast as you. Tell me, you best of 
 men, how I shall reward you ? ' 
 
 ' I beg that your grace will please to remember your 
 'sind promise, and appoint me to succeed him.' 
 
 ' You, you blockhead ! you. King of Spain ! What 
 family pretensions can Tou have 1 Let me look at 
 you 1 ' 
 
 The astonished Duke drew back the curtain, and re- 
 collected the face of his electioneering friend ; but it 
 was seen with rage and disappointment ; the voter was 
 dismissed with all the violence of anger and refusal. 
 At length the victim of the Duke's passion became an 
 object of his mirth, and, when he felt the ridicule that 
 marked the incident, he made the voter an excise- 
 man.' 
 
 Docility and Faodltibs of Domestic Animals. 
 Birds of prey teach their young not only to fiy at and 
 seize their prey, but also to catch it dexteriously on 
 the wing. M. Dureau Delamalle has observed fal- 
 cons and hawks training their young in this man- 
 ner. I lodged, said he, from 1794 to 1798 in one of 
 the combles of the Louvre. The building was not 
 then finished, and contained many birds of prey, 
 which, not being molested in a city where it was not 
 permitted to shoot them, were quite tame. My win- 
 dow looking into the square court of the Louvre, I 
 had many opportunities of seeing the birds. At the 
 time when the young were beginning to fly, I have 
 often seen the old birds coming w ith a dead mouse or 
 sparrow in their talons, hovering over the court, and 
 calling to the young birds which remained in the nest. 
 The latter came forth on henring their parents, and 
 fluttered under them in the court. The old birds then 
 rose perpendicularly, apprizing their scholars of the 
 circumstance by a loud cry, and let fall the prey, on 
 which the young birds precipitated themselves. At 
 the first lesson, with whatever care the old birds 
 dropped the mouse or sparrow, so as to fall near the 
 young ones, it was seldom that the latter caught the 
 object; and when they failed, the old birds came down 
 like a ball, and carried it ort' before it had reached the 
 ground. They then ascended to repeat the lesson, 
 and never allowed their pupils to eat the prey until 
 tliey had caught it in the air. When the young birds 
 had become perfect at this exercise, the old ones 
 brought them Uving birds, and repeated the manceuvre 
 until the former were able to catch them, and had 
 conscquentK learned to provide for themselves. 
 
 The most ignorant have knowledge enough to de- 
 tect the faults of others ; the most clear sighted are 
 blind to their own. 
 
120 
 
 IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 THE SALMON. 
 
 Salmon fishing is a sport both profitable and en- 
 tertaining, and is by no means local in its character, 
 being equally pursued, and with common success, 
 either in the old or the new world. The engraving 
 given herewith represents a famous fishing station 
 in Ireland, known as Hasling Place, a very prolific 
 one as it regards the annual yield of this delightful 
 representative of the finny tribe. The salmon is so 
 well known for its quality as an article of food, as 
 well as for the immense quantities in which it is 
 taken, that it requires no other claims to recom- 
 mend it strongly to our notice, and probably in no 
 country of the world, in proportion to its size, are 
 the fisheries so extensive, or the value of so much 
 importance as in Ireland. The number of fish ob- 
 tained in, the spring in a proper state for food is 
 small compared with the quantity procured as the 
 summer advances. During the early part of the 
 season the salmon appear to ascend only as far as 
 the rivers are influenced by the tide, advancing with 
 the flood and retiring with the ebb, if their progress 
 be not stopped by any of the various means employ- 
 ed to catch them. It is observed that the female 
 fish ascend before the males ; and the young fish of 
 the year, called grisle till they have spawned once, 
 ascend earlier than those of more mature age. As 
 the season advances, the salmon ascend higher up 
 the river beyond the influence of the tide ; they are 
 observed to be getting full of roe, and are more or 
 less out 01 condition, according to their fom-ard 
 state as breedish fish. They shopt up rapids with 
 the velocity of arrows, and frequently, clearing an 
 elevation of eight or ten feet, gain the water above, 
 and pursue their course. If they fail in their attempt 
 it is only to remain a short time quiescent, and thus 
 recruit their strength to enable them to make new 
 efforts. They often kill themselves by the violence 
 of their exertions to ascend, and sometimes fall upon 
 the rocks and are captured. The fish having at 
 length gained the upper and shallow pools of the 
 river, the process of spawning commences. A 
 pair of fish are seen to make a furrow, by working 
 up the gravel with their noses ; when the furrow is 
 made, the male and female retire to a little distance, 
 one on each side of the furrow ; they then throw 
 themselves on their sides, again come together, and 
 Tubbing against each other, both shed their spawn 
 
 SALMON FISHING AT HASLING PLACE. 
 
 into the furrow at the same time ; it requires from 
 eight to twelve days to lay all their spawn, and they 
 then betake themselves to the pools to recruit them- 
 selves. The adult fish having spawned, are out of 
 condition and unfit for food. With the floods of 
 the end of winter and the commencement of spring, 
 they descend the river from pool to pool, and ulti- 
 mately gain the sea, where they quickly recover 
 their condition, to ascend again in autumn for the 
 same purpose as before. The fry are observed to 
 collect in small pools ormill-dam heads preparatory 
 to quitting the river. The descent begins in March, 
 and continues through April and part of May. It 
 rarely happens that any salmon fry are observed in 
 the rivers late in June. The salmon fry at first keep 
 in the slack water by the sides of the river ; as they 
 become stronger they go more towards the mid 
 stream ; and when the water is increased by rain 
 they move gradually down the river. On meeting 
 the tide they remain for two or three days in that 
 part -where the water becomes a little brackish from 
 the mixture of salt water, till they are inured to the 
 change, when they go on to sea all at once. There 
 their growth appears to be very rapid, and many re- 
 turn to the brackish water increased in size in pro- 
 portion to the the time they have been absent. Fry 
 marked in April or earlv in May have returned by the 
 end of June weighing from two to three pounds and 
 upwards. These small fish, when under two pounds 
 weight, are by some called salmon-peal ; when larg- 
 er, grilse. These fish of the year breed during the 
 first winter ; they return from the sea with the roe 
 enlarged : the ova in a grilse being of nearly the 
 same comparative size as those observed in a sal- 
 mon, but they mature only a much smaller number. 
 The growth of the salmon from the state of fry to 
 that of grilse has been shown to be very rapid ; and 
 the increase in weight attained during the second 
 and each subsequent year is believed to be equal, if 
 not to exceed, the weight gained within the first. 
 The increase in size is principally gained during 
 that part of the year in which the fish may be said 
 to be almost a constant resident in the sea. That 
 the food sought for and obtained to produce and 
 sustain so rapid an increase of size must be very 
 considerable in quantity, as well as most nutritious 
 in quality, cannot be doubted. That the salmon 
 ii a voracious eater may be safely inferred from the 
 
 degree of perfection in the arrangement of the teeth, 
 as well as from the well known habits of the species 
 most closely allied to it. From the richness of the 
 food on which the true salmon solely subsists arises, 
 at least to a certain extent, the excellent qualities 
 of the fish as an article of food. The salmon is a 
 noble fish, and most deservedly retains the very- 
 highest rank in the angler's estimation. He is the 
 prince of fresh water visitors ; and his title to pre- 
 cedence has never yet been questioned. Ilis magni- 
 tude, his keen and lively eye, his muscular powers, 
 his rapid and graceful motions, his beautiful propor- 
 tions, his shining silvery scales, his intellectual in- 
 stincts, and his superior, rich, and delicate flavor, 
 unite in establishing his decided superiority over all 
 other fish. 
 
 Neither should it be forgotten that salmon 
 fishing is considered the angler's highest sport, 
 whilst it aff'ords the best criterion of his profession- 
 al skill. Indeed, angling for this noble fish may 
 be deemed the measure or standard of the angler's 
 dexterity, the test of his professional proficiency, the 
 legitimate object of his loftiest aspirations, affording 
 an undeniable proof of his fitness to take his stand 
 amongst the most accomplished adepts of this inter- 
 esting craft. The salmon reaches a considerable 
 size in many of the rivers of both this country and 
 Europe; some attaining the enormous weight of 
 seventy or eighty pounds. The general weight is 
 greatly below this ; and from ten pounds to five 
 and twenty, may be considered a high average, even 
 in the best salmon rivers. During the spring and 
 summer the markets of our cities and towns are 
 abundantly supplied with this much esteemed 
 fish. 
 
 Idle Visits. — The idle are a very heavy tax upon 
 the iadustrious, when, by frivolous visitations, they 
 rob them of their time. Such persons beg their daily 
 happiness from door to door, as beggars their daily 
 bread, and, like them, someiimee meet with a rebuff". 
 A mere gossip ought not to wonder if we evince signs 
 that we are tired of him, seeing that we at« indebted 
 for the honor of his visit solely to the circumstance of 
 his being tired of himself. He sits at home until he 
 has accnmulated an insupportable load of ennui, and 
 then sallies forth to distribute it among his acquain- 
 tances. 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 121 
 
 IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 BOSTON, SATUKDAY, OCTOBER 2, 1858 
 
 CHINESE MANIFEST DESTINY. 
 
 Our readers will remember that we showed in 
 our last number how it was that China awoke to 
 a consciousness of the disagreeable fact that she was 
 not the greatest nation on the face of the earth. 
 Russia, England, France and America — four drops 
 on the edge of the bucket — have proved to her that 
 they were as great, to say the least, as she, and that 
 each of them was a pail full of water. If any one 
 of the parties were but a drop on the edge of the 
 pail, it was China. And so China turned pale, and 
 gave up the matter in despair. Such a disagreeable 
 consciousness at times is had by men of a genera- 
 tion passing away, and who almost wonder at and 
 hate the rising generation which hustles them out 
 of their places, because they pity the ignorance of 
 the young men, and are enraged with their pre- 
 sumption, and think that they themselves, who 
 have so long enjoyed power, should be allowed to 
 retain it in peace so long as a spark of life remains 
 in their bodies. China is more than old; she is 
 fossilized. Old nations, like old men, are com- 
 pelled to yield to the exigencies of the times, and 
 make way for the young ones, who are more fully 
 alive to the spirit of the age. The change is not 
 seldom a disastrous one, hut, in the case of China, 
 it is likely to bring about good results. 
 
 Of course England, in the time of the opium war, 
 and again lately, by the active demonstrations of a 
 warlike nature which she, in concert with Prance, 
 has made in the Chinese seas, must be said to have 
 helped materially in giving this wholesome lesson 
 to old, worn out, cracked China. The moral sup- 
 port afforded by the presence of the American fleet 
 aided the development of the result in question. 
 But another younger and too powerful nation seems 
 to have settled the thing in a very quiet manner. 
 We mean Russia. While the others fought a little 
 on the southeastern borders of China without being 
 able to force their way to the capital, much less to 
 conquer the nation and overrun the land — while 
 they talked long and loudly — so loudly that most 
 people thought that England alone would be the 
 bull able to break everything in the China shop, 
 Russia quietly spins her web at the north and 
 northeast; takes possession of a valuable portion of 
 territory long a subject of negotiation between her 
 and China, and which not only brings her into im- 
 mediate contact with the Chinese in a part of the 
 country where she will not be for years, if for ages, 
 disturbed in her operations by any other western 
 power, but gives her a new highway to the ocean, 
 thereby vastly increasing her means for doing good 
 or evil in the world, and enables her to communi- 
 cate directly with Pekin, the capital which the eyes 
 of few outside barbarians, except Russians and 
 Catholic missionaries, ever saw. In truth, Russia 
 and the missionaries have known the interior of 
 China longer and have seen more of it than either 
 party would like to tell to everybody. 
 
 The Chinese, like many old men once strong, but 
 now approaching their second childhood, are very 
 proud, tenacious of old opinions and ways, and 
 yield not to reason, but to superior force. Now 
 Russia has always exhibited herself to China in the 
 attitude of a very strong nation. Mere trade and 
 commerce seemed scarcely even a secondary object 
 with her. She would have lands ; the free naviga- 
 tion of rivers forming outlets to the ocean which 
 might one day turn out to be of immense consequence; 
 she would have silent, but overpowering influence 
 in China; she thirsted for more and more power, 
 and her recent transactions with China have en- 
 abled her to make a stride in the coveted direction 
 which astonishes the world. If she sent a hundred 
 traders to China, she detailed for them a thousand 
 
 stout and devoted guards. The Russian sword, 
 generally covered gracefully with u diplomatic veil, 
 was ever pointed at the Chinese heart. 
 
 France, as a first rate power, was hardly known 
 to the Chinese, because of her (until of late years) 
 comparatively inferior navy, and because her war- 
 like operations have been confined chiefly to Eu- 
 rope, America, Africa and western Asia — all drops 
 on the edge of the Chinese bucket. Now, indeed, 
 she exhibits herself to China in the light of a power 
 wdich would dispute with other nations the su- 
 premacy of the seas. And it seems probable that 
 she has obtained from the sick Chinaman her full 
 share of the gain looked for as the result of the late 
 or present contest, and she stands in this respect on 
 the same footing with 'the most favored nations,' 
 Russia excepted, of course. She has not only con- 
 sulted her interests, but also her deeply rooted 
 Catholic instincts, in demanding that Christianity 
 shall be hereafter openly and freely professed in 
 China. Many of the missionaries in that country 
 or Frenchmen or Belgians. It was well that France 
 should make her first very notable appearance on 
 the Chines^ stage as a strong man, armed and fully 
 prepared for battle. 
 
 England, on the contrary, has appeared for the 
 most part, to John Chinaman as a 'nation of shop- 
 keepers — an armed trading company. Indeed, she 
 has given some reason to the Chinese for thinking 
 so. The right-minded public men of China regard 
 her with more horror and dislike than a temperance 
 lecturer would express for a low rumseller whom he 
 is not strong enough to put down, and who 
 smuggled bad liquor into his house, and into the 
 the houses of his friends and neighbors. England 
 appeared on the Chinese stage as a trader in opium, 
 and one who, in buying or selling, would always 
 drive a hard bargain, get the best end of it, and, if 
 necessary, would bring out the soldiers to sustain 
 the impositions of the traders. Nevertheless the 
 Chinese have begun to learn a thing that has been 
 patent to the world these hundred years past, 
 namely, that when England chooses to e.xert her 
 power in an earnest, dogged way, she becomes an 
 enemy not to be despised by any enlightened, 
 young ana strong nation, still less by China, a na- 
 tion which is old, falling into pieces, and fast sink- 
 ing into the barbarous state. It would appear that 
 England has also compelled the government of 
 China to agree that Christianity may be freely and 
 openly professed in the empire. This is natural 
 enough. Franceranks as a Catholic nation, although 
 she tolerates Protestantism ; hence, when she says 
 that religion must be free in China, she means the 
 Catholic religion. England ranks as a Protestant 
 nation, although she is forced to recognize the claims 
 of Catholiciiy to a certain extent. But she never 
 does so unless upon compulsion, and without grum- 
 bling and bellowin2 like a sick bull. Hence, when 
 she says that religion must be free in China, she 
 means Protestantism first, and, if possible, through- 
 out and last. 
 
 America, like Russia, seems to have obtained all 
 the privileges granted to the 'most favored nations,' 
 at the expense of some treasure, but of no blood. 
 It is true that her face is comparatively new to the 
 Chinese people, and they were somewhat disposed 
 to regard Brother Jonathan as a son of John Bull 
 with at least all the good qualities of his father ; 
 some of his bad ones, and, withal, a thorough 
 knowledge of the ways of trade. But it was always 
 noticed by the suspicious and keen-witted Chin^^sc 
 that the American, being a sort of cosmopolite, be- 
 haved better than the Englishman, who, in his se- 
 cret soul, more than half believes that England is 
 the sun which gives light and licat to all other na- 
 tions. To him, England is the water in the well- 
 filled pail, and other nations are the drops adhering 
 to the edge of the bucket. So the Englishman is 
 prone to appear in foreign lands as if he were 'mon- 
 
 arch of all he surveyed,' as if there were no man 
 hardy enough to dispute his title to reign. He 
 speaks to no one whom he does not know ; holds 
 his head at an angle of twenty degrees skyward, and 
 looks and talks, when he may talk, as if the whole 
 world worth speaking of were England, and as if 
 England were the whole world worth mention. — 
 The American, on the contrary, is, or was until very 
 lately, rather noted for his modest deportment in 
 foreign lands, and when under the observation of 
 the people. This was true of him, whether he were 
 a merchant or a traveller. In China, he is simply 
 a merchant, of course. He goes thither that he 
 may bring a fortune back to his own home. He 
 
 behaves very like the traveller who was liungry 
 
 entered a cottage and asked for a pot of hot water. 
 He dropped a clean round stone into the water. 
 
 When asked why he did this, he answered, 'I am 
 
 making soup.' ' Soup, of water and a stone ? Poor 
 man !' ' Perhaps you will give me an old bone that 
 I might throw into it ?' ' Here are two good shin 
 bones.' ' Perhaps a little bread, that I might toast 
 and cut up, would be afforded to me ?' ' Certainly, 
 here it is.' Have you a morsel of salt, pepper and 
 mustard ?' ' Of course, here they are. Poor man ! 
 only think of his trying to make soup out of a stone 
 and a pot of water ! He must be used to a hard 
 life.' ' Will you make me forever your debtor, by 
 giving me a little of carrot, parsnip and onion, that 
 I may flavor the stone in this boiling pot ?' • Of 
 course, poor man ; here they are.' And so the trav- 
 eller, who must have been an accomplished Yankee 
 of the school of Sam. Slick, got a good dish of soup. 
 
 The Indians in Asia, and our own North Ameri- 
 can Indians, were not much differently treated by 
 the Sam Slicks of the East India Company, now 
 happily dead, and by their brethren, the Pilgrim 
 Fathers of this continent. In both instances, the 
 settlers, or weary travellers, or strangers, asked for 
 very little — only air enough to breathe, water enough 
 to quench thirst, and land enough to raise a few 
 hills of corn. All the world knows how the East 
 India Company grew until, from a handful of scared 
 traders on a small scale, it became a sovereign 
 power, ruling the best parts of Asia. And the 
 world knows well how the Pilgrim experiment on 
 this continent succeeded, until the little band which 
 humbly besought of the Indians leave to breathe a 
 little air, drink a little water, and plant a few rows 
 of corn, has become a powerful nation, and the 
 original owners of the land are, like their East In- 
 dian brethren, removed, killed if rebellious, and 
 gradually exterminated from the land, so far as such 
 extermination may be required by the political, 
 civil or social exigencies of the times. 
 
 Brother Jonathan has been, in his capacity as a 
 trader, rather meek than otherwise in his dealin''s 
 with the Chinese. He is as modest as he was when 
 he was a poor, hungry Pilgrim Father, and he knows 
 well the state of the board, and what move to make 
 next. John Chinaman sees and, to a certain extent 
 appreciates all this, and so thinks that Brother 
 Jonathan, if he bring plenty of money, is, on the 
 whole.a much more endurable person than John Bull. 
 
 Besides, Russia — omnipresent Russia — has doubt- 
 less done to America some service in this respect. 
 Russia has her agents, open and secret, everywhere. 
 Her eyes are always open, her ears attentive, and 
 her reasoning powers are strong. She knows pre- 
 cisely what she wants ; how much she can get ; 
 when to recede ; when to advance ; who will help 
 her ; who will be a tool ; who wiU be an enemy, 
 and who will keep a neutral stand. America has 
 hitherto stood less in the way of Russia than any other 
 of the great Powers, Prussia not excepted. America, 
 too, is, as yet, conveniently distant from Russia, 
 and the chances are that the two countries will not 
 come into serious colIi^ion until the ne.xt century. 
 Their interests promise to harmonise sufficiently for 
 many years, bome writcj-s give another reason Jor 
 the somewhat extraordinary good feeling which has 
 generally obtained between America and Russia. 
 Both are despotisms, say they. One is the despot- 
 ism or autocracy of the crowd ; the other is the 
 autocracy of one man. Extremes meet here, under- 
 stand one another, and shake hands. 
 
 Be all this as it may, it seems highly probable 
 that the Chinese government has been led to regard 
 America with a more favorable eye, in consequence 
 of the timely representations of Russian agents, who, 
 of course, have minute instructions from their own 
 government. Russia may regard English and French 
 operations in the East with feelings oi jealousy, but 
 there is no reason why she should not regard 
 America as perfectly neutral, at least, and, in most 
 cases, a reliable friend in need ; an enemy, under 
 existing circumstances, never. 
 
 In our next number we will pursue our specula- 
 tions on the manifest destiny of the Flowery Land. 
 
122 
 
 HUSH MISCELLANY. 
 
 [Written for the Irish Mlscillnuy.J 
 THE DAWN OF FREEDOM. 
 
 li«lioia thut ray on yon distuit liighlnuill 
 Valuntia'8 harbor now gleams iu ll((ht, 
 
 And Coinnierco ijiulles on old Arrun's Island— 
 Vc men of Erin, behold tlic isiglitl 
 
 With (jnlwuy steamers and oueau cable, 
 The d»«u of freedom brenkn o'er the laudi 
 
 Ueouwliile, in bond«;;e, you are uniible 
 To hail its advent with untied liuudl 
 
 Ko horseman mounts his cmbatfkHl charger — 
 Ko Irish Boldler trampa o'er her pinin— 
 
 Ko lortre.w frowns over mounttiiii j.-i'i'se, or 
 Well-amied galleys defend her miiiu. 
 
 Surrounding nations behold with wonder. 
 
 How calmly you in such bondage sleep 1 
 With • Deolli to tyrants: ' iu tones of lliuuder, 
 
 Your brotli«rs grwt you beyond the deepl 
 
 Degraded serfs, but our brothers no less, 
 And sons to heroes of high reuown, 
 
 Does uittrtiol flume in your bosoms glow less- 
 or shrink you still 'neutb the Saxon Irown? 
 
 Has Cherbourg's (etc no inspiriug prestige 
 
 To rouse to action your race to-duy. 
 
 Or see you not e'cu of hope a vestige. 
 
 Your foul dishonor to wipe awny? 
 
 Your ancient foe— the British lion- 
 La Mauchc's fortress chains iu his den, 
 
 Which gives assurance, you may rely on- 
 Your land 's your own if— von be but men I 
 
 Awnkc, arise then, ye sons of Brian, 
 And take your stand on your mountain crag, 
 
 With naked glaves. and with mien defiant, 
 To Heaven high, fling your own green flag! 
 
 Away with party, foul feud, and faction — 
 These are the bonds which you still retain — 
 
 With firm resolve, and united action. 
 Together strike for your isle amain ! 
 
 When shall tlie Saxon cease to defame you— 
 The venal heard from your shore shall flee— 
 
 The God of Battles will then proclaim you 
 A victor i>eople I— a nation free! 
 Boston, Sept- 25. T. F. 
 
 [Written for the Irish Miscellany.] 
 
 WASHINGTON. 
 
 BY ALFHOSSCS W. HEAKKE. 
 
 A thoughtful mind, high aim, and iron will, 
 Are attributes which mark the truly great; 
 Such men have noble missions to fullill, 
 And leave cxamphs all should imitate. 
 In times of discord they accelerate 
 The progress of events, and history's pages 
 Classes them with the few, the fortunate. 
 Whose names are brilliant honors to their age. 
 Whether a poet, statesman, general or sage. 
 
 One name, whose splendor makes most others pale— 
 This land doth proudly boa,«t one glorious name— 
 'Tis Wasui>oton, the patriot, whom we hail 
 With filial love and truest heart-acclaim; 
 Of myriads he has won the purest fame, 
 The tyrant's tamer, yet the |)eople'8 friend, 
 He bowed the Gcssler's neck, yet fed no flame 
 Of grovelling passion to attain his end. 
 But climbed the higher path to heights which still transcend. 
 
 His name will last forever. He is not 
 Of those who pass away. His fame and ti.me 
 Arc coexistent for that he has wrought 
 On deathless annals his career .sublime. 
 And sounded one great lesson through the clime. 
 Which Freedom canopies, ' How froil the reed 
 On which the monarch leans.' By this will climb 
 The great of future ages, and the breed 
 Of birth, throned tyrants crushed,fair Freedom will succeed. 
 
 JoHS Brodoham strains the Atlantic cable un- 
 der the head of ' The Shot in Davy Joues's Locker," 
 thus: — 
 
 Toy of despots, type of slaugher. 
 
 Let it plumb the yielding wave; 
 Deep beneath the placid water 
 May it ever find a grave ! 
 
 Iron arm of mad ambition, 
 
 Soon thy hurtfulness shall cease; 
 Sent upon a gentler mission, 
 
 Brno IT sow TO KEEP THE PEACE. 
 
 (Written for the Miscellany [ 
 
 C AT OCT I N . 
 
 BY ■OUANMOItE.' 
 
 Part Second. — Trnvelliiij;. 
 The gns burned late that night iu number 3G0, 
 MnssBchusetta avenue. 
 
 Tirt'd as we all were, we would have gladly 
 turned it off and turnud-in, rntliir thiui turn-to, 
 and transfer those huge snow-drifts of summer gar- 
 ments from the piano-lid to beneath the lids of the 
 trunks and bandboxes ' heaped and pent' around 
 us. 
 
 The trunks, as we sound them, with reference to 
 the reception of the snow drifts aforesaid, reveal — 
 
 ' in that lowest depth, a lower deep 
 
 Still threatening to devour them—' 
 and soon, like butter, they melt in their mouths, 
 leaving no sign, save the moisture on our brows. 
 
 What need to specify the various articles, besides 
 clothing, compressed miraculously therein. Every- 
 body knows there should be a certain number of 
 things provided for use or comfort in so isolated a 
 region, that one would not care to hold up to the 
 eyes of Argus, or publish on the house-top, but 
 concerning which curiosity should be satisfied by a 
 confidential whisper to the effect that— 'It's all 
 right; they're in.' 
 
 There's no great harm in mentioning Havana 
 cigars, and Blackberry Cordial, and trout lines, and 
 pistols, expecting to find coffee there, and no enemy 
 to meet — one of the raciest enjoyments of a run to 
 the country. 
 
 The trunks are packed. Packed doesn't express 
 it; crammed, rammed, jammed, solidified. Nothing 
 short of box-wood or ebony can be closer in com- 
 parison, or heavier in the mass, and, i'faith, noth- 
 ing short of 'Ebony.' can lift them. 
 
 The spring-locks have caught, the lashes are 
 strained over the lids, and sidewise, like crabs, the 
 creaking, rumbling burden cars are wheeled on 
 their castors convenient to the hall door, and to the 
 stage driver. 
 
 The doors and gates are locked and bolted, and 
 the burners turned off tightly everywhere, but in 
 our own rooms, where one jet is reduced to a sick- 
 ly, sleepy-blue, will-o'-the-wisp looking flame, that 
 radiates no light nor heat, and attracts no mosqui- 
 toes, for we sleep 
 
 ' all night by a fire-fly lamp,' 
 
 or, what is the nearest artificial approach to one. 
 And soon our lids are closed and sealed with the 
 kiss of sleep. 
 
 Yet we were scarce conscious of it. So gently 
 does the ministering angel shower Lethean dew 
 from his shadowy wings, that, refreshed and won- 
 dering at, and applauding our endurance, with a 
 vanity similar to that of the 'self-made man,' we 
 awoke at cock-crow, equally foolishly exultant. 
 
 'I really can't sleep a wink. I'm astonished at 
 myself. I've lost so much rest, too, and I feel as 
 fresh as though I had gone through no fatigue at 
 all.' 
 
 •So do I!' 
 
 Such, in amount, were the first words in the 
 morning. 
 
 'It is three o'clock. We must hurry. Awake the 
 children.' 
 
 'Plenty time for that — poor little things! Let 
 them sleep until Mary comes in to dress them.' 
 'Well, but we'll be late.' 
 'Call to Winnie, please, and tell her to hurry up 
 breakfast— anything.' 
 
 And Winnie was a wake too, miraculously. Prob 
 ably she hadn't slept either, or 'little Mary,' who 
 followed her down stairs. 
 
 'Tempus fugit.' All of us know thit much Latin, 
 and that much 'hard fact.' 
 
 Breakfast, which was very good — all W^innie's 
 meals are capital — was not more than well begun, 
 
 when the heavy rattling, jingling, and rumbling, 
 peoiliar to a stage-coach, grew momentarily more 
 audible, until it swallowed up all other sounds, 
 and with a creak, and a crash, and a drug, hushed 
 at the door. 
 
 A short, rapid 'rat-tat-tat,' with the knuckles, 
 on the door, intimated the intimacy of a certain 
 friend of ours (nommc de plumed' 'Vernon,') who 
 never pulls the bill. 
 
 All ready?' he asks, hurriedly, as he follows the 
 queston into the hall. 
 
 All ready,' I reply, pushing back my chair, and 
 hastening, cup of coflee in hand, to the door, to sec 
 who's aboard.* 
 
 'Good morning, Mrs S. Good morning sir," to 
 Mr. S. Where's Doctor Whitehead?' 
 
 He was to haVe breakfasted with me at half-past 
 four this morning, but did not come. I can't im- 
 agine the reason. I have sent Hannah around to 
 learn; she'll be here presently.' 
 
 'We havn't a minute to spare, wife,' I said. 'Are 
 the children ready?' 
 
 'Almost; by the time Hannah gets back.' 
 
 'Ah, we can't wait for the girl at all!' impatiently 
 exclaimed S. 'I told her to tell the doctor we had 
 gone down to the cars, and to follow us right away. 
 Make haste, driver; up with the luggage, and let's 
 be off — only fiiteen minutes left.' 
 
 'Then,' replied I, 'its no use going. You had all 
 best jump out, take a good breakfast, which is on 
 the table, and go in the eight o'clock train.' 
 
 'No!' impulsively said S. 'We cau drive like 
 mad, and be down there in no time. Where's the 
 babies?' 
 
 'Amelia!' I called; 'where's Ida and Hal?' 
 
 'Winnie, tell Mary to hurry with the children; 
 we're off.' 
 
 'Ah!' exclaimed S., 'arn't they ready? I'd a kept 
 them ready dressed, and standing on their heads all 
 night, for the matter of that, but I'd have 'em all 
 ready to start.' 
 
 'Here they are,' cried Winnie, in a sharp treble. 
 
 'Hurry up — quick!' vociferates S., as Mary, armed 
 with Hal, and drowsily pulling along Ida, shuts 
 to the gate. 'Hurry up! We can't wait here all 
 day!' 
 
 'AH aboard?' cries the driver. 
 
 'Go ahead!" 
 
 'Good-bye, Winnie. Take good care of the house, 
 and fruit, and everything, and tie up the chande- 
 liers.' 
 
 'Indeed X will, ma'am, and God bless you, 
 ma'am. Good-bye, ma'am.' 
 
 Another 'Good-bye, AVinnie,' in a shrill child's 
 voice. 
 
 'Good-bye, Miss Ida. Good-bye, Halley!' in re- 
 sponse. 
 
 'Bye-bye!' Gee-e! Get up!' prattles Hal. Every- 
 body laughs and 
 
 'Smack goes the whip, round go the wheels. 
 Were never folks so glad.' 
 
 'Just as I expected!" I exclaimed, a few minutes 
 after, pomting to a long, dense, spiral column of 
 white smoke, floating like a streamer over a line of 
 passenger cars, sweeping around the ctirve of Capi- 
 tol Hill. 
 
 'The d — dickens!' emphatically growls Savage. 
 
 (At the same time that he excuses himself to the 
 ladies, I will to the reader for the mention of a 
 name intended to be suppressed.) 
 
 Now, as the Irishman said, in his search for the 
 last penny, which he knew was in his pocket, 'Con- 
 cealment is useless.' 
 
 'The dickens! What shall we dor' 
 
 'What 1 at first proposed,' I suggested, 'with this 
 difference.' 
 
 'Well?" 
 
 'Leave our traps in charge of the baggage master, 
 until we return, in time for the eight o"clock train; 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 123 
 
 come to my house, and finish that fine breakfast 
 you whilom disdained.' 
 
 'Be it so! 'lis the best we can do.' 
 
 •MassB,' volunteered a negro porter, respectfully 
 touching the badge — 'Willard's Hotel' — on his hat. 
 'De eight o'clock train doesn't connect, so as you 
 kin git to Fredrick fo' night. You'll have to wait 
 dar, at de Eelay House, all day, till five o'clock in 
 de evening.' 
 
 A succession of mingled groans and sighs issued 
 from the window of the stage-coach at this an- 
 nouncement from the sable porter. 
 
 'Thank you, uncle,' we recovered sufficiently to 
 gasp. 'Then we'll stop at the Relay all day. We 
 can't lose another night's rest, in order to get up in 
 the morning.' 
 
 The luggage was left, the horses were turned, and 
 a few minutes galloping deposited us once more at 
 the door of '360.' 
 
 How soon we become reconciled to what 'needs 
 must be.' We had not reached my house ere we 
 had planned at Irast half a dozen ways of spending 
 the day at the Relay. 
 
 Some of us went to breakfast, and others 'didn't 
 feel like it," but more like tasting those magnificent 
 plums, that so gracefully bow the branches over the 
 mossy rock, imbedded in my front garden. So, up 
 the tree gallantly I went, and a glass dish soon held 
 a pyramid of the tempting purple, fit for royalty. I 
 should rather say, for a 'sovereign.' 
 
 That old grey rock. It weighed several tons, and 
 it was 'at some little cost' and trouble, that I was 
 enabled to 
 
 'Place it where it stands.' 
 
 It is a fine specimen, and elicits the admiration 
 of every one of taste, -whose eye catches its pictu- 
 resque, jagged outline; its grey, and yellow, and red 
 tints, mingled with moss, scarred by the elements, 
 indented with the tooth of time. 
 
 I found it 'out of town,' of course, and with the 
 aid of a couple of crowbars, backed by a couple of 
 colored men, it was tumbled into a cart, drawn a 
 quarter of a mile, and deposited where it now lies, 
 under the plum tree. It is part of a landscape gar- 
 den (I confess, on a limited town-scale,) but this 
 old rock is, by general consent, pronounced ' a 
 study.' 
 
 Early in the spring, I had my garden put in 
 order, and one day discovered the man working 
 very industriously about that rock with a spade, 
 while a wheelbarrow, tipped over on its side, was 
 lying in wait to carry it away. I explained — to his 
 astonishment. 
 
 'Half-past seven! Jump in.' 
 
 'All in?' 
 
 'AH in.' 
 
 'Drive on!' 
 
 This time we are in time. Luggage is checked, 
 quarter paid to porter, tickets bought, seats se- 
 cured, preliminary Bteam-scream given, fastenings 
 uncoupled, when — 
 
 'Why, here's Doctor Whitehead!" exclaim the 
 ladies all together, as the reverend gentleman comes 
 in smiling, and takes an opposite seat. 
 
 No time for explanations — we're off at last. 
 
 Fretting about Trifles. — As regards the 'ca- 
 reer of small anxieties,' one great art of managing 
 with them, is to cease thinking about them, ju-it at that 
 point wheie thought becomes morbid. It would not 
 do to say that such anxieties may not demund some 
 thought, and, occasionally, much thought. But there 
 comes a time when thought is wasted upon these anxl- 
 elies ; when yourself, in your thoughts, going over the 
 same ground ;igain and again to no purpose, deepening 
 annoyance instead of enlarging insight and providing 
 remedy. Then the thing would be to be able to speak 
 to these fretting little cares, like I-ord Burleigh to his 
 gown of state, when he took it off for the night, "Lie 
 there, Lord Treasurer.' 
 
 BiiAUTiFY TOUR Home. — Every man should do 
 his best to own a home. The first money ho can 
 spare ought to be invested in a dwelling, where his 
 family can live permanently. Viewed as a matter of 
 economy, this is important, not oidy because he can 
 ordinarily build more cheaply than ho can rent, but 
 because of the expense caused by frequent change of 
 residence. A man, who early in life builds a home for 
 himself and family, wilt save some thousands of dol- 
 lars in the course uf twenty years, besides avoidmg ihe 
 inconvenience and trouble of removals. Apart from 
 this, there is something agreeable to our better nature 
 in having a house that we can call our own. Ii is a 
 form of property that is more than property. It speaks 
 to the heart, enlists the sentiments, and ennobles the 
 possessor. The associations tnat spring up around 
 it, as the birthplace of children, as the scene of life's 
 holiest emotions, as the sanctuary where the spirit 
 cherishes its purest thoughts, are such as all value; 
 and whenever their influence is exerted, the moral 
 sensibilities are improved and exalted. The greater 
 p;irt of our happiness in this world is found at home; 
 but how few recollect that the happiness of to-day is 
 increased by the place where we were happy yesterday, 
 and that, insensibly, scenes and circumstances gather 
 up a store of blessedness foi the weary hours of the 
 future! On this account we should do all in our power 
 to make home attractive. Not only should we culti- 
 vate such tempers its serve to render its intercourse 
 amiable and affectionate, but we should strive to adoru 
 it with those charms which good sense and refinement 
 so easily impart to it. We say easily, for there are 
 persons who think that a home cannot be beautified 
 without a considerable outlay of money. Such people 
 are in error. It costs little to have a neat flower gar- 
 den, and to surround your dwelling with these simple 
 beauties, which delight the eye far more than expen- 
 sive objects. If you will let the sunshine and dew 
 adorn your yard, they will do more for you to brighten 
 the landscape, and make it agreeable to the eye. She 
 hangs the ivy around the ruin, and over the stump of 
 a withered tree twmes the graceful vine. A thousand 
 arts she practices to animate the senses and please the 
 mind. Follow her example, and do for yourself what 
 she is always laboring to do for you. Beauty is a 
 divine instrumentality. It is one of God's chosen 
 forms of power. We never see creative energy with- 
 out something beyond mere existence, and hence the 
 whole universe is a teacher and inspirer of beauty. 
 Every man was born to be an artist, so far as the ap- 
 preciation and enjoyment of beauty are concerned, and 
 he robs himself of one of the precious gifts of his being 
 if he fails to fulfil this benificent purpose of his crea- 
 tion. 
 
 MusiLENA, a famous Andalusian bandit, the terror 
 of travellers in the south of Spain, whose exploits 
 rival the most renowned of the robber race, has just 
 been killed. The soldiers traced him to his birthplace, 
 to which he repaired after a successful booty foray in 
 Cordova, but the first search revealed nothing. A 
 spy, who had been brought up by ihe authorities, in- 
 sisted that Musilena must be in the house, when all 
 the soldiers but four were sent off'. The officer, post- 
 ing his attendants outside, re-entered the house, and 
 asked a female to show him over it. She willingly 
 consented and conducted him to a low, dark room, the 
 door of which was immediately shut and a pistol dis- 
 charged at him. Here was the bandit; but the officer 
 was not hit, and a desperate fight took place between 
 the two. Those outside heard the scuffle, and broke 
 open the door just in time to save the ofticcr and kill 
 the robber — to the joy of the Cordovans. 
 
 The Univkbse.— Suppose the earth to be a ball of 
 one foot in diameter. On that scale of proportion the 
 sun would be one hundred feet in diameter, and the 
 moon three inches. The sun would be two miles from 
 us, the moon thirty feet — Jupiter ten miles from the 
 sun, and Herschcl forty. The highest mountains on 
 ihe face of the earth would be one-eighteenth of an inch 
 in height. Man would be an imperceptible atom. 
 
 Mannkks. — The custom- house officers of every na- 
 tion 1 have yet travelled through have a different man- 
 ner of examining your Ingguge. Your crusty, phleg- 
 matic Englishman turns over each article sep irately 
 but carefully; your stupid Bi:lgian rummages your 
 trunk as if he were trying to caich a li/.ard; your cour- 
 teous Frenchman either lightly and gracefully turns 
 up your lino linen, as though he were making a lobster 
 sidad, or, much more frequently, if you tell him you 
 have nothing to declare, and are polite to him, just 
 peeps into one corner of your portmanteau, and says, 
 'C'est assez.' Your sententious German ponders deep- 
 ly over your trunk, pokes his fat fureiinger into the 
 bosom of your dress-sliirts, and motions you to shut it 
 again. But none of these peculiarities had the Rus- 
 sians. They had a way of their own. They twisted, 
 tliey tousted, they tnrned over, they held wriiing-cases 
 open, bottom upwards, and shook out the manuscript 
 contents, like snow-flakes; they held up coats and 
 shirts, and examined them like p'lwnljrokers; they 
 fingered ladies' dresses like Jew clothesmen; they 
 punched hats and looked into their linings; passed 
 Cashmere shawls from one to the other for inspection; 
 opened letters and tried to read their contents (upside 
 down); drew silk stockings over their arms; held boots 
 by the toes and shook them; opened bottles and closed 
 them again with the wrong corks; left the impress of 
 their dirty hands upon clean linen and virgin writing- 
 papers; crammed ladies' under-garments into gentle- 
 men's carpet-bags, forced a bootjack into the little 
 French actress's reticule; dropped things under foot, 
 trod on them, tore them, and laughed; spilled 'eau de 
 Cologne,' greased silk with pomatum, forced hinges, 
 sprained locks, ruined springs, broke cigars, rumpled 
 muslins, and raised a cloud of puif-powder and den- 
 triflce. [Cooper. 
 
 The Mount of Olives. — I am told that, a month 
 ago, the Mount of Olives was covered with beautiful 
 flowers ; now they are all over, and as most of the 
 corn is cut, it is rather bare. It is dotted over with 
 scattered olive trees, which, in our Saviour's time, 
 were probably thick groves, giving a good shelter 
 from the heat of the sun. Its present look is peculiar ; 
 the rock is a light gray limestone, showing itself in 
 narrow ledges all up the sides; the soil is whitish, and 
 the grass now burned to a yellowish color on the 
 ledges in narrow strips, forms altogether a most deli- 
 cate and beautiful color, on which the gray green 
 olives stand out in dark relief. The evening sun makes 
 it at first golden-hued, and afterwards, as Tennyson 
 writes, the purple brows of Olivet. * * In the af- 
 ternoon we walked up to the top of the Mount of Olives, 
 whence yon overlook the whole city, and also to the sea, 
 the Dead Sea, which is really only fifteen miles off, 
 and which looks qnite close. This is one of the most 
 impressive views in the world, and if I have time I 
 will certainly paint it, hut I fear that I shall not be 
 able. On the top of the Mount of Olives are gardens, 
 and corn-fields stretch down its sides, but all beyond 
 seems perfectly barren rock and mountains. The 
 Dead Sea seemed motionless, and of a blue so deep 
 that no water that I have seen can compare with it. 
 The range of mountains beyond is forty or fifty miles 
 off", and a thin vail of mist seemed spread between us 
 and them over the sea, through which they appeared 
 aerial and unreal ; and, as the sun sinks, the projec- 
 tions become rose-colored, and the chasms a deep vio- 
 let, yet still misty. When the sun left them, the hazy 
 air above them became a singular green color, and 
 the sky over rosy red, gradually melting into the blue. 
 [Memoir of Seddon, the Artist. 
 
 Lord and Ladv Palmkrston hare been staying 
 in Paris, and visited Count Walewski previously to 
 his departure for the waters of Vichy. The e.\-pre- 
 mier has also been twice received by the emperor at 
 St. Cloud, and on one occasion accompanied his ma- 
 jesly on a morning's shooting excursion in the pre- 
 serves. There are, of course, all sorts of rumors afloat 
 respecting this 'cordial reception,' and it is whispered, 
 that the old Briiish fo.\, not lion, has come to Paris to 
 make matters smooth before his return to office I 
 
124 
 
 IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 THE NEW REVOLUTION IN IRELAND. 
 
 We plcnd guilty of Imving tliou);lit thiit ilie moral 
 force priuciple of llio great O'Coiinill would not all'uct 
 au amelioraiion of the oppressiun under wliuli the 
 Irish people struggled; mueh less make them free and 
 independent, giving them the repeal of the union, 
 versus nationality. To us it appeared as if ihcj had 
 petitioned and begged about long enough, and that as 
 long as they kept on memorializing, the government of 
 Britain felt no fear, nor cared a fig. The men of 
 ninety-eight (^who fears to speaks of ninetj-eight,) 
 had for us a much nearer affinity of sentiment, and, 
 living or dead, we hallow them as patriots of purpose 
 and ol will, not of theory or gasconade. The movers 
 of ninety-eight were of like conviction and material, 
 and their cause had our whole heart, and, especially 
 that it was a failure, do we wish to be ideniitied in 
 their cause and with them, who, although defeated, re- 
 pudiated the 'Beggar's Opera,' and believed in God, 
 justice, and their own right arm. The Cromwellian 
 doctrine of 'trust in God and keep your powder dry' — 
 the principle 'that God helps them who helps them- 
 selves' — is our conviction." 
 
 The idea never struck us that salvation would come 
 CO Ireland without a light, a manly stand-up light, in 
 •he face of God and all mankind ; and, although un- 
 armed, and every chance against them, we believed it 
 would have been 'better to have died by the sword 
 than by famine. JJinety-eight and forty-eight are 
 passed forever, leaving their memories and impressions 
 behind them, and Ireland slowly recovers from the 
 famine and its hand-maid, the plague, to face her old 
 oppressor in a new character, in a new and more 
 promising warfare, one that all her sons can legally 
 engage in, one that mu.st create a unity of purpose.and 
 engage the warmest elVorts of all her children. Al- 
 thoujih not the O'Connell movement, yet a movement 
 that that great man would, if living, have entered into 
 with all his might, with his great heart and indomita- 
 ble will — a moral force movement, which presents 
 Ireland to the world as the key of Europe, the con- 
 necting link between the two continents, the nearest 
 and by lar the safest port in Europe, for Europe and 
 America to transact their world-wide business through. 
 Already has a revolution commenced, which places 
 England a little in the background, and which has 
 caused a world-wide discussion of the questions — 
 'Where is Ireland?' and 'What has she done for free- 
 dom?' — a revolution which will show her competency 
 as pre-eminently skilled in the manufacture of the 
 most beautiful fabrics, and must bring to light her too 
 l*Dg dormant resources, giving her capitalists a chance 
 for honorable invcstment,and her willing sons a proper 
 remuneration for their labor. A new life infused, a 
 new epoch in her history is commenced. She dates 
 her salvation from the first Gahvay steamer reaching 
 these United Spates. The laying of the 'ocean cable' 
 proved her proximity; its success or its failure estab- 
 lishes that important fact. Opposition will soon cease, 
 'commerce is king,' and will not be retarded by a 
 newspaper war. 
 
 Governments have to follow in the wake of the na- 
 tion's interests, and make the best of circumstances 
 they may not like. The line to New York is to be 
 followed by a line to Boston, and the ten or twelve 
 line of feeders which are running to Galway from the 
 principal ports in Europe to supply them with freight, 
 will ere long be increased to twenty, and safely may 
 Mr. Lever see, without being a prophet, that many 
 years will not elapse ere a steamer will leave Galway 
 for the United States per diem. Irishmen everywhere 
 will help, as well as rejoice, in the new and mural force 
 revolution, which will ere long be felt in every hamlet 
 in the old laud, and which has already presented our 
 country to the world in a new and more iuteresting re- 
 lationship, where she will be read and known of all 
 men. 'Erin go brah!' O. 
 
 VISIT OF THE SIXTY-NINTH REGIMENT NEW 
 VORK MILITIA TO IRELAND. 
 
 Wo must coiilcs.s we are not so sanguine as many 
 of our friends that this regiment, composed of citizens 
 of Irish birth, will receive permission from the British 
 government to visit the homo of their nativity. Under 
 the often enunciated doctrine of 'sclfpreservition is 
 nature's first law," we are of opinion that that govern- 
 ment will refuse it. We think the cabinet of England 
 may consider it a political law also. If this law or 
 doctrine is true individually, why not so in relation to 
 governments ? It is so, and particularly so with des- 
 potic governments, who dread the advent of republi- 
 can sentiments more than the bayonets of a mail-clad 
 foe; and ignorant must the man be of the wisdom and 
 foresight of British statesmen, if he thinks they will 
 see no danger in such a visit. Is not history before 
 their eyes? The revolutions in France have always 
 awakened the Irish people, and led them to look 
 round for leaders to direct them in severing their con- 
 nection with Great Britain. The American Revolu- 
 tion united them for fatherland, raised up the army of 
 volunteers of eighty-two, which declared Ireland free 
 and independent. The cause of the two countries, if 
 not exactly identical, helped each other, and procured 
 the independence of both. We believe British states- 
 men know all this, and will act upon it. Would it be 
 to them politic, that a rej^iment of American soldiers, 
 clothed in green and gold, drilled to perfection, before 
 whom no equal number of men in the world could 
 stand in fight, but recently exiled by the oppression of 
 that government, should return to the homes of their 
 childhood, without stirring the Iiish heart, or being 
 stirred thereby themselves? Is the Irish soul dead — 
 its chivalry a dream — its impulsiveness become ex- 
 tinct — its love for freedom or home less now than ever? 
 We say no, emphatically, no. If we know ourselves and 
 our countrymen, we think the tombs would open, and 
 the graves give up their dead, at such a sight, and be- 
 lieving as we do, in the moral character of the men 
 composing the 69th regiment, and in the great prin- 
 ciple of subordination, which perfection in drill incul- 
 cates, yet we say, believing we know a little of the 
 Irish heart, we can not expect the men composing this 
 fine regiment, under all the surrounding circumstances 
 of home, and friends, and country, to so conduct them- 
 selves in demeanor and language as to receive the ap- 
 probation of that government which slew their brethren 
 by halter and famine, and drove their cherished teach- 
 ers into penal sevitude, and sent themselves outcasts 
 and exiles upon a heartless world. If it should be 
 granted, we will rejoice in it, none more so, only we 
 are not so sanguine as many of our friends; and if it 
 does take place, we shall lean back in our old straw 
 bottom, take a whiff at our dudeen, and assert that the 
 millenium is come. Yes, we repeat it, then will 'the 
 wolf have Iain down with the lamb,' the 'Atlantic 
 cable' and 'Galway line' appear insignificant and small 
 matters in our eyes. Then will we say nothing is im- 
 pos.iible. What next? That's all. O. 
 
 Scraps of leather burned under a plum tree will 
 effectually kill the curculio insects -which destoy 
 the firtiit. 
 
 France and Ireland. — The Laborer's Hall, Col- 
 lege street, Glasgow, was recently crowded to hear 
 Mr. George Archdeacon deliver the first of his third 
 series of lectures to the Irish people. The bill call- 
 ing the meeting was headed France and Ireland, and 
 showed the warm sympathy which existed between 
 the two nations, when such men as Sarsfield and 
 Dillion bore arms for France at Fontenoy and other 
 great battle fields. The lecturer, after briefly but 
 forcibly alluding to Cherbourg, and the changed 
 condition of France and England in the channel, 
 glanced at the difficulties of former naval command- 
 ers of France, when attempting decents on Ireland 
 or England, diflieulties, he said, now removed for- 
 ever by immortal Cherbourg, which lights and 
 points the way to invasion. Mr. A., next read at 
 length from The Nation, the magnificent speech of 
 the venerable Archdeacon Fitzgerald, pronounced a 
 glowing eulogy on that reverend pastor — called on 
 the meeting to endorse the glorious sentiments con- 
 tained in this now world-known address — and fin- 
 
 ished this port of his subject by reading the manly 
 reply of Sir Charles Napier to Roebuck, Lindsay, 
 and others who returned from France to sneer at 
 her prodigious resources. The only thing, he added, 
 that seems strange in Sir Charles's letter is, that he 
 even doubts the cordial ally, and says, in a time of 
 profound peace. Napoleon III. might suddenly 
 lend a hundred thousand men to sack England. 
 ' For shame, Sir Charles !' humorously said Mr. 
 Archdeacon. 'Is this your dependence on govern- 
 mental alliances ?' The Rev. Mr. Kenyon's speech 
 was then quoted from amidst the most enthusiastic 
 cheers of the vast audience, after which the lecturer 
 ended his discourse by an appeal to his countrymen, 
 one and all, to aid the national movement which he 
 hoped to see soon in progress. The Irish Protec- 
 tive Association, he said, had already done much 
 good in Glasgow, and would soon be able to effect 
 much more by the aid of its newly acquired strength. 
 Mr. Walter Freen, in a very neat address, proposed 
 a vote of thanks to the lecturer, who, he said, had 
 effected much good in Glasgow, and whose name 
 had now become a household word amongst the 
 Catholic Irishmen of the city. He trusted they 
 would soon give the talented, patriotic, and veteran 
 lecturer a more solid proof of their esteem and affec- 
 tion. Mr. Michael M. Loughlln seconded this mo- 
 tion, which was carried with enthusiasm. Mr. 
 M'Quade said he came in to listen, and he was truly 
 delighted with the convincing, eloquent, and patri- 
 otic address of Mr. Archdeacon. It was time again, 
 he said, to band together ; he wished to see reli- 
 gious tolerance fully borne out, and wished to see 
 Ireland obtain justice ; his object now was to in- 
 quire about their society, and to tell them he would 
 be with them again at Mr. Archdeacon's next lec- 
 ture. — [The Nation. 
 
 Comet of 1858. — This remarkable comet is now 
 visible to the naked eye, as predicted by Dr. Gould 
 some weeks ago. It is now only one hundred and 
 forty millions of miles distant, and is rapidly ap- 
 proaching the earth, and already shows through a 
 common opera-glass a well defined tail. We are 
 told that during, the first week in October the comet 
 will be of the most striking brightness, possibly the 
 largest of the century, and at that time will be seen 
 near Arcturus, perhaps even surpassing that bril- 
 liant star in splendor. It is now visible for about 
 an hour after sunset, and an hour before sunrise, in 
 a line with the two stars called the pointers, and 
 forming nearly a right angle between these and 
 Arcturus. It Is now best seen at four o'clock, in 
 the morning. 
 
 A Smart Dog. — A shepard once, to prove the 
 quickness of his dog, said, in the middle of a sentence 
 concerning something else, ' I'm thinking, sir, the 
 cow is in the potatoes.' Though he spoke in an un- 
 concerned tone of voice, the dog, who appeared to be 
 asleep, jumped up, and leaping through an open win- 
 dow, scrambled up to the turf roof of the house, from 
 which he could see the potato field. Not seeing the 
 cow there, ha ran and looked into the bam where she 
 was, and finding all right, came back again. The 
 shepherd again said the same words, and the dog re- 
 peated his lookout ; but on the false alarm being a 
 third time given, he got up, looked his master in the 
 face with so comical an expression of interrogation 
 that he could not help lau.;hingat him, on which, with 
 a slight growl, he laid himself down in his warm corner, 
 as if determined not to be made a fool of again. 
 
 Adopted Americans. — The following were the 
 names of the foreign bom citizens, who signed the 
 Declaration of Independence, and the places of their 
 birth; Matthew Thornton, Ireland ; Francis Lewis, 
 Wales ; John Witherspoon, Scotland ; Robert Mor- 
 ris, England ; James Smith, Ireland ; George Tay- 
 lor, Ireland ; James Wilson, Scotland and Button 
 Gwinnett, England. 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 125 
 
 The London Gn/.ette of Friday gives the following 
 account of the acts of bravery for which Gunner Con- 
 nolly, an Irish hero, received the decoration of the 
 Victoria Cross from the Queen : — 
 
 'Bengal Horse Artillery — Gunner William Connolly 
 date of act of bravery, July 7th, 1S57. This soldier is 
 recommended for the Victoria Cross for his gallantry 
 in action wiih the enemy at Jhelura, on the 7th of July, 
 1857. Lieutenant Cookes, Bengal Horse Artillery, 
 reports that 'about daybreak on that day I advanced 
 my half troop at a gallop, and engaged the enemy with- 
 in easy musket range. The sponge-man of one of my 
 guns having been shot during the advance. Gunner 
 Connolly assumed the duties of second sponge-man, 
 and he had barely assisted in two discharges of his 
 gun, when a musket ball, through the left thigh, felled 
 him to the ground. Nothing daunted by pain and loss 
 of blood, he was endeavoring to resume his post, when 
 I ordered a movement in retirement, and, though se- 
 verely wounded, he was mounted on his horse in the 
 gun team, and rode to the next position which the guns 
 took up, and manfully declined going to the rear when 
 the necessity of his so doing was represented to him. 
 About eleven o'clock A. M., when the guns were still 
 inaction, the same gunner, whilst sponging, was again 
 knocked down by a musket ball striking him on the 
 hip, thereby causing great faintness and partial un- 
 consciousness, for the pain appeared excessive, and the 
 blood flowed fast. On seeing this, I gave directions 
 for his removal out of action, but this brave man hear- 
 ing me, staggered to his feet and said, 'No, sir, I'll 
 not go there ivhilst I can work here,' and shortly after 
 he again resumed his post as sponge-man. Late in the 
 afternoon of the same day my three guns were engag- 
 ed at one hundred yards from the walls of a village 
 with the defenders — viz., the 14th Native Infantry. 
 mutineers — amidst a storm of bullets, which did great 
 execution. Gunner Connolly, though suffering se- 
 verely from his two previous wounds, was wielding his 
 sponge with an energy and courage which attracted the 
 admiration of his comrades, and while cheerfully en- 
 couraging a wounded man to hasten in bringing up 
 the ammunition, a musket ball tore through the mus- 
 cles of his right leg, but, with the most undaunted 
 bravery, he struggled on, and not till he had loaded 
 six times did this man give way, when, through loss of 
 blood, he fell in my arms, and I placed him on a wag- 
 gon, which shortly afterwards bore him in a state of 
 unconsciousness from the fight.' 
 
 Society for the Promotion and Cultivation 
 OP THE Irish Language. — The committee of this 
 society recently met for the transaction of busi- 
 ness. They beg to acknowledge the receipt of the 
 'Poets and Poetry of Munster,' fromW. S. O'Brien, 
 Esq. The following subscriptions were announced : 
 Very Kev.T. H. O'Ryan, V. G., St.CroLx; Rev. J. 
 A. Tracy, CO., High street; and Adam Armstrong, 
 Esq., Ballygawley, 5a. each, being the first yearly 
 subscription from these patriotic gentlemen. The 
 committee report that the subscriptions are to go to 
 pay rent, printing, postage, &c., and for the effec- 
 tive working of this thoroughly national and non- 
 political society, friends are earnestly solicited to 
 forward their subscriptions, which will be duly ac- 
 knowledged. As names are being taken for a class 
 for ladies, parties wishing to join are respectfully 
 BoUcited to signify their intention. 
 
 The picturesque little village of Belleek during 
 the past few months has become a scene of unusual 
 activity and bustle of preparation, owing to the dis- 
 covery of a valuable and prolific bed of the mineral 
 substance requisite for the manufacture of porcelain 
 on the banks of Lough Erne, above Castlecaldwell. 
 It is due to the enterprise of a Dublin commercial 
 gentleman of the highest respectability, that this 
 discovery has been turned to account, and there is 
 every reason to believe that the speculation will 
 prove a remunerative one. [Ballyahannon Herald. 
 
 Galway and New York — All Hallows Col- 
 lege.— -We are much pleased to announce that first- 
 class berths for eight young missionary priests, from 
 the above inestimable college, have been engaged in 
 the Prince Albert on her ne.\t voyage, by the Very 
 Rev. Mr. Rush, at the West Convent, for the United 
 States and British America. This is a feature in 
 the intercourse between Ireland and America which 
 is peculiar to both nations. Irish priests must ac- 
 company the Irish people as long as a policy of em- 
 igration prevails, and the propagandism of Catho- 
 licity in the United States will be through the me- 
 dium of Irishmen and women. [Galway Vindicator. 
 
 The Invasion of Ireland. — There is a singular 
 coincidence connected with the visit of Cardinal Wise- 
 man to Ireland. He landed in Dublin on the same 
 day that Cromwell did two hundred years before — pass- 
 ed through Drogheda, on the same day as that on 
 which the siege was commenced by the Puritan, and 
 ho preached his sermon in Dundalk on the 3rd of Sep- 
 tember, exactly two hundred years to a day after that 
 on which the bloody tyrant and fanatic died. What 
 a contrast between the sanguinary route of the one 
 over the mangled corpses of women and children, and 
 priests, and the ovation of the distinguished ecclesias- 
 tic who has come on a mission of peace and love. 
 [Drogheda Argus. 
 
 We have heard with regret that the Irish Metro- 
 politan Magazine has been numbered with the 
 dead, and that in giving birth to the present off- 
 spring, she passed away to be recorded with the 
 many other Irish productions that have had a hard 
 struggle for life, and ultimately perished. We have 
 upon various occasions noticed the very spirited 
 and agreeable articles that have from time to time 
 appeared in the magazine, and we cannot but re- 
 gret that the enterprising proprietors should not 
 have been successful in this national speculation. — 
 [Saunders. 
 
 Value of American Wheat in Ireland. — 
 This day (Saturday) thirty tons of American wheat, 
 part of the cargo of the Prince Albert, was purchas- 
 ed by Messrs. Miller and Campbell of this town, 
 from the shippers, Eennell, Power & Co., of New 
 Orleans, at nine pounds ten shillings per ton, which is 
 within 6d. per cwt. of the value of new Irish wheat 
 in Galway. [Galway Vindicator. 
 
 We understand that the National English Opera 
 Company, following the example set them by Mdle. 
 Piecolomini, have chosen the Galway route for their 
 trip to the United States. They sail per the Prince 
 Albert on the 14th inst. 
 
 The Lighting of Ballina. — On Wednesday 
 evening the important event of the lighting of Bal- 
 lina with gas was inaugurated by a public ban- 
 quet, which did ample credit to the town, and par- 
 ticularly to those to whom the arrangements con- 
 nected with it were confided. Robert Paget Bourke, 
 Esq., was in the chair. 
 
 On Thursday morning, some fishermen who were 
 at work in a fishing hooker on the 'Maid' Bank, 
 about three miles outside Cork Harbor Light, took 
 a monster halibut. The fish was with some diffi- 
 culty brought up safely, and proved to be one of the 
 largest specimens of that description of flatfish ever 
 met with, weighing nearly five hundred pounds. It 
 was captured with a hand line. 
 
 PRANCE. 
 
 General M'Mahon, instead of being governor of the 
 colony, is only 'Commandant Superior of the land and 
 sea forces in Algeria.' There is, however, a rather 
 curious clause in the decree constituting his new office, 
 under which, in case of need, he may exercise quite as 
 much power as the governor-general could have done. 
 Art. 4 authorizes the 'commandant superior' to take 
 all measures necessary to 'cause the authority ot the 
 emperor to be respected, and to insure the execution of 
 the laws, and enable him, in case of urgency, to sus- 
 pend the execution of meaaures ordered by the gen- I 
 
 erals and prefects.' It is clear, therefore, that while 
 Prince Napoleon will have full latitude to try his hand 
 as a governor. General M'Mahon is empowered to de- 
 clare himfclf dictator in Algeria whenever he pleases. 
 General M'Mahon is in the prime of life, under fifty 
 years of age. He is a tall, handsome, active man, of 
 gentlemanly manners, and large private fortune. He 
 has been twenty-five years in the army, and before the 
 Crimean war saw a great deal of service in Algeria, 
 where ho now goes with such a high command. It 
 will be remembered that General M'Mahon was the 
 only senator who voted against the 'Public Safely 
 Bill' in February last, and it is to the credit of the 
 emperor that this act of independence has not stood in 
 the way of his promotion. 
 
 A Fortune in a Bottle. — A bottle has been 
 picked up on the beach between Trouville and 
 Honfleur, which, on being broken, was found to 
 contain a paper dated 3d August, on board the 
 Crocodile, and purporting that the writer, on board 
 the vessel, which was about to founder, having 
 neither heirs nor relations, bequeathed his fortune 
 to whoever might find the paper. This fortune the 
 writer declares to amount to 340,000f., and to be 
 deposited in the hands of M. Faiseau-Lavanne, Rue 
 Vivienne, Paris. The writer also expresses a wish 
 that his house at Valparaiso shall be converted into 
 a chapel in which mass should be celebrated on the 
 3d of every month for the repose of his soul. 
 
 The 'Sieele' denies the boasted superiority of the 
 English navy over that of France, and maintains 
 that, extraordinarily numerous as are the vessels of 
 England, they are not proportioned to the vast ex- 
 tent of her colonies. And, alluding to the project 
 of making Paris a seaport, it speaks of the effect 
 which such a project in the brain and heart of 
 France would produce among the French in gen- 
 eral, adding that this is all that is required to make 
 France a nautical state. 
 
 ENGLAND. 
 
 Oaks in England — The Parliamentary Oak in 
 Clipston Park is said to be 1500 years old. This 
 park existed before the Conquest, and belongs to 
 the Duke of Portland. The tallest oak was the same 
 nobleman's property ; it was called the Duke's walk- 
 ing stick, and was higher than Westminster Abbey. 
 The largest oak in England is the Calthorpe Oak, 
 Yorkshire; it measures 78 feet in circumference at 
 the ground. The Three Shire Oak at Worksop is 
 called so from forming parts of the counties of Not- 
 tingham, Derby and York. This tree had the great- 
 est expanse of any recorded in this island, drooping 
 over 777 square yards. The most productive oak 
 was that of Gelenos, in Monmouthshire, felled in 
 1810; the bark brought 200 pounds, and its timber 
 670 pounds. In the mansion of Tredegar Park, 
 Monmouthshire, there is said to be a room 42 feet 
 long and 27 feet broad, the floor and wainscot of 
 which were the production of a single tree — an oak — 
 grown on the estate. [Sir W. Symonds. 
 
 American Copfee and English Beer. — In the 
 United States the consumption of coffee is eight timea 
 as great as in Great Britain, and probably the con- 
 sumption of beer in Great Britain is eight times as 
 great as m the United States. 
 
 One day last week one of the kitchen gardeners 
 at Dangstein House, Rogate, was moving a heap of 
 rubbish, and found in it nearly 200 snakes. [West 
 Sussex Gazette. 
 
 Scotland is to erect a monument forthwith to the 
 Ettrick Shepherd, James Hogg. ThevaleofEttrick 
 is the select site for this mark of national gratitude 
 and aflfection. . 
 
 GREECE. 
 
 A Catholic King The son of Otho, King of 
 
 Greece, refuses to renounce Catholicity to enable 
 him to sit upon the throne of Greece. He declines 
 joining the Greek church, and adheres to the ancient 
 faith, like his father before him. 
 
126 
 
 IRISH mSCELLANY. 
 
 Thk Hauntkd Cuambeb. — A room in the prioei- 
 pal inn of a country town had iho repaiation of being 
 haunted. Nubo<l}' would sleep In it, and it was there- 
 fore shut up ; but it is so happened that at an election 
 
 The Cunning op thb Raten. — In the narrative 
 of tbo Arctic voyuj^ of Capt. McOlnre, of tlio British 
 nary, is the following story of the two ravens which 
 bccmne doraiciled on board the Investigator. The 
 
 the inn was chock full, and there was only the haunted raven, it appears, is the only bird that willingly braves 
 room unoccupied. A gentleman's gamekeeper canio I a Polar winter, and in the depth of the season he is 
 to the inn, exceedingly laligued by a long journey, j seen to (lit through the cold and sunless atmosphere 
 and wanted a bed. lie was informed that unless ho j like an evil spirit, his sullen croak alone breaking the 
 chose to occupy the haunted room he roust seek a bed [ silence of the deaihliko scene. No one of the crew 
 elsewhere. j attempted to shoot the ravens, and they consequently 
 
 ' Haunted 1 ' exclaimed he ; stuff and nonsense ! 
 I'll sleep in it! Uhost or demon, I'll take a look at 
 what haunts it.' 
 
 Accordingly, after fortifying himself with a pipe and 
 tankartl, ho took up his (|uariers in the haunted 
 chamber, and retired to rest. He had not lain down 
 many minutes when the bod shook under him most 
 fearfully. He sprang out of bed, struck a light, and 
 made a careful examination of the room, but could 
 discover nothing. The courageous fellow would not 
 retam to bed, but remained watching for some time. 
 Presently he felt the bed shake violently ; the floor 
 was firm; nothing moved but the bed. Determined, 
 if possible, to find out the cause of this bed-qnake, he 
 looked in the bed, under the bed, and near the bed, 
 and not seeing anything to account for the shaking, 
 which every now and then seemed to seize on the bed, 
 he at last pulled it from the wall. Then the ' murder 
 came out.' The signboard of the inn was fastened 
 to the outer wall by a nut and screw, which came 
 through to the hack of the bed, and when the wind 
 swung the signboard to and fro, the movement was 
 commnoicaicd to the bed, causing it to shake in the 
 most violent manner. The gamekeeper, delighted at 
 having hunted up the ghost, informed the landlord the 
 next morning of the real nature of his unearthly visi- 
 tor, and was handsomely rewarded for rendering a 
 loom, hitherto useless, now quite serviceable. All the 
 ghost stories on record might, no doubt, have been 
 traced to similar sources, if those to whom the 'ghosts' 
 appeared had been as ' plucky ' as our gamekeeper. 
 
 Some years ago a tall, gaunt, knock-kneed, red- 
 headed, crosseyed Hoosier, who was a hunter of the 
 classical Wabash, conceived the idea of making a visit 
 to the home ot his progenitor in old Kaintuck. He 
 did so — ranted round amongst the girls some, and 
 was, of course, from his native impudence and un- 
 earthly ugliness, the ' ob.served of all observers.' One 
 morning the whole neighborhood was astonished with 
 the news that the ugly Hoosier had eloped with Mrs. 
 B., an amiable, good looking woman, wife of Mr. B., 
 and mother of half a dozen little B.'s. For two long 
 years tlie disconsolate husband mourned over his un- 
 toward bereavement. At the end of that period, how- 
 ever, to his utter astonishment, in popped Mrs. B., 
 looking as bright and rosy as ever. After the first 
 greeting was over, the injured B. thus addressed his 
 truant spouse : — ' Nancy, how could you take up with 
 that thar onairthly ugly Hoosier, and leave me and 
 the children all forlorn, as you did ? ' ' Well, Josh,' 
 said Nancy, ' that thar ugly critter from Indarany was 
 a leetle the best whistler I ever hern tell on. You 
 know I was always fond of good whistlin'; I used to 
 think vou could whistle some, but I never heard 
 whistlin' as is whistlin' my senses clean away, and I 
 fullered him otf on that account. A .short time ago, 
 however, he caught the measles, and they spilt his 
 whistlin' forever — the charm was broken, and so I 
 concluded to come back to you ; but O Josh ! that 
 Hoosier was the awfulcst whi>tler that ever puckered!" 
 
 Novel Appucation of AaTiLixitT. — A road 
 contractor in France near the Pyrenees, having lately 
 found the process of blasting an overhanj:ing rock 
 rather difliiult, and a mortar battery of the lOih rcgi- 
 
 became very bold, as will be seen from the following 
 story :— ' Two ravens now established themselves as 
 friends of the family in Mercer Bay, living mainly by 
 what little scraps the men might have thrown away 
 after meal times. The ship's dog, however, looked 
 upon these as his especial perquisites, and exhibited 
 considerable energy in maintaining his rights against 
 the ravens, who nevertheless outwitted him in a way 
 which amused every one. Observing that lie apjieared 
 quite willing to make a mouthful of their own sable 
 persons, they used to throw themselves intentionally 
 in his way just as the mess-tins were being cleaned out 
 on the dirt-heap outside the ship. The dog would 
 immediately run at them, and thev would just fly a 
 few yards ; the dog then made another run, and again 
 they would appear to escape him but by an inch, and 
 so on, until they had tempted rod provoked him to the 
 shore, a considerable distance oft'. Then the ravens 
 would make a direct flight for the ship, and had gene- 
 rally done good execution before the mortified-looking 
 dog detected the imposition that had been practised 
 upon him, and rushed back again.' 
 
 In speaking of the Duke of Malakoff' 's raarriaee, 
 the Paris correspondent of the Philadelphia Bulletin 
 says : — ' The bridegroom certainly is neither young 
 nor handsome ; but be can ofl^er a name that fame has 
 borne to every part of the civilized world, and well- 
 earned titles. He can place in the marriage corbielle 
 twenty Russian flags, and as many India shawls, or 
 volants d'AngUteiTC — and what fair one could resist 
 such inducements ? Mile. Sophia Valera is twenty- 
 eight years old ; her mother, the Marchioness of 
 Faniaza, is an intimate friend and relative of the 
 countess of Montijo, with whom the bride resides dur- 
 ing her stay in Paris. The lady and one of the suite 
 were in the excursion to Cherbourg, %vhere it is said 
 the proposals were made. She is not rich ; but the 
 Emperor, who has the marriage at heart, will bestow 
 a handsome wedding portion on the bride, who is a 
 great favorite with the Empress. The way in which 
 the old lion was taken captive by this young gazelle is 
 rated as follows : — The Duke had, last winter, much 
 admired the Andalusiaa belle at the Tuileries, but 
 when the subject of marriage was broached, he always 
 replied that he was too old. While walking one day 
 in the gardens of St. Cloud, Mile. Valera gathered a 
 rose, and the Marshal asking if she intended to bestow 
 it upon him, she replied with rare apropos, 'No, 
 Monsieur le Due, you only like laurels.' On this plain 
 hint, the veteran took courage and spoke — or rather 
 he lost it, and fell into the toils' 
 
 The Paris papers give an account of the duel be- 
 tween the Due de Grammont and the Count de la Boc- 
 ca as follows ; — A young French duke, of illustrious 
 mime, entered the Cirque de I'lmperalrice, a fair lady 
 on bis arm, and passed before a Sardinian nobleman, 
 aid-de-camp to the gallant sovereign of Piedmont. In 
 passing, be bowed to the Sardinian, hut the salute was 
 not responded to. 'Sir,' said the duke, presently re- 
 turning to the officer, 'I believe that I am of sufliciently 
 good family for my salutation to be rctui-ned.' 'It 
 docs not please me to salute you, M. Ic Due,' was the 
 reply. 'Then I shall compel you to do it,' retorted the 
 other, and he removed the officer's hn; from his head 
 
 ment happening to be passing along, he telegraphed to and made a motion with it as if bowing to himself. A 
 Paris for leave to open fire upon a crag seventy yards blow was the reply to this aggression. The next day 
 above the road, over which it impended. A few rounds the parties fought with swords. The Frenchman was 
 of ten-inch shell soon brought the entire mass to frag- wounded in the wrist, and the seconds put an end to 
 ments. About ten minutes served for the operation. | the combat.' 
 
 VARIuuo ... 
 
 A Fhench mtisic teacher in New York, a gay 
 youth of fifty, with a wife and children, made love 
 to one of his pupils, a miss of sixteen. She injudi- 
 ciously encouraged him in proposals to elope, but 
 instead of keeping her appointment, sent some broth- 
 ers with raw hides, who made the teacher siiig a 
 dismal tune while they dusted his coat most 
 soundly. 
 
 Queen Victoui.v at the palace of Pottsdam was 
 conducted by her daughter to the rooms formerly 
 occupied by Frederick the Great, and in which no 
 alteration has been permitted to be made since the 
 death of that celebrated monarch. 
 
 The last new wrinkle is 'cable punch,' at which 
 intemperate youths take a long pull, a strong pull, 
 and a pull altogether. 
 
 The following notice was lately fixed, says a Lon- 
 don paper, to a church door in Ilcrfordshire, and 
 read in the church : — -This is to give notice, that 
 no person is to be buried in this churchyard, but 
 tlwse living' in the parish ; and those who wish to 
 be buried, are requested to apply to the parish 
 clerk.' 
 
 An English ofHccr writes from India of the tak- 
 ing of a Kajah and the sacking of his palace. They 
 found in the treasure vaults bags containing 320,000 
 rupees and £80,000 in gold, with jewels estimated 
 at £200,000. Pleasant flghting when it comes to 
 the palaces. 
 
 The petite Poccolomini, who is to sail from Gal- 
 way this, month for this country on a starring ex- 
 pedition, was drawn in her carriage by the students 
 of Trinity College, Dublin, from the theatre to her 
 hotel in Sackville street. Afterwards she appeared 
 on the balcony and bowed her acknowledgments. 
 
 Mr. Ledyahi) writes a most sensible letter touch- 
 ing the thirst for blood and vengeance that e.xists 
 in England towards the natives of India, and says — 
 'It is better that we should forget than that we 
 should endeavor to perpetuate their recollection by 
 palpable inventions. Lord Wellesley pulled down 
 the column which marked the sight of the Black 
 Hole of Calcutta ; let us not raise fresh monuments 
 to render perpetual the hatred of races. The most 
 glorious monument that we could show in India, 
 after the deadly struggle in which we have been 
 engaged, would be a people reconciled to us, after 
 all that has passed, by our justice and moderation.' 
 
 A GR.VND nephew of the famous Ivleber testifies 
 to the good character, bravery, reputation for cour- 
 age, &e., of Capt. de la Riviere, the galla;it Zouave, 
 who has been somewhat conspicuous lately. 
 
 Jacob Bkoome, Know Nothing, in a speech made 
 at the Cooper Institute, N. Y'., urging a union be- 
 tween the Americans and Republicans, said he was 
 in favor of sinking all quarrels and shaking hands 
 until they killed the democratic party, and when 
 they had done that, they might fight like devils 
 amongst themselves. 
 
 Officer — 'Didn't you guaranty, sir, that the 
 horse wouldn't shy before the fire of an enemy?' 
 'Xo more he wont ; it is after the fire that he 
 shies.' 
 
 In boring an Artesian well at Bourn, Lincolnshire, 
 a spring was struck which throws the water twenty- 
 five feet above the earth's surface at the rate of 
 three hundred and sixty-five gallons per minute, or 
 191, 811, 000 gallons in twelve months. It has only 
 one equal, and that is in Paris. 
 
 'Sir,' exclaimed a matter of fact and rather iras- 
 cible author to a waggish bookseller the other day, 
 'I hear that you have lately seid in the presence of 
 
 others, that you intend giving me h , the next 
 
 time I entered your store. 'That's so,' replied the 
 other, 'and here it is,' handing him Dante's Hell 
 bound in good antique. The gentleman pocketed 
 the insult and walked quietly off. 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 SUBSCRIBE! SUBSCRIBE! SUBSCRIBE! 
 THE IRISH MISCELLANY 
 
 INDUOKMKNTS TO NkW SUBSOUIBEUS. 
 
 OUR NEW VOLUME. 
 
 UaviufT fftvorably cmirnK'nued the secoiul volume of our 
 publication, we seize the occnsiou tortlie purpose ol' teii- 
 dei'iug thanks to those of our friends who huve so generous- 
 ly contributed to our supjiort. To start, nnd successfully 
 carry ou an ordinary newspaper, so that it will, in a rea- 
 eonable space of time, become remunerative to its proprie- 
 tors, is a task not easily accomplished, and which consum- 
 mation docs not generally happen in one case out ot a hun- 
 dred. Our enterprise, being of a nature entirely dilFerent 
 IVom that of any other Irish paper heretofore established 
 in this country— requiring a much greater expenditure of 
 capital and artistic talent— caused us serious misgivings, 
 and a constant fear tliat it would not meet the desires and 
 expectations of our patrons. How far our efforts Lave been 
 successful, is for them to decide; but we trust that it will 
 not be considered egotistical on our part wlien we assert 
 that the Miscellany has far exceeded the most sanguine ex- 
 pectations of partial friends, and that even those who have 
 been enemies from the start have made suitable acknowl- 
 edgment of its merit. 
 
 Since we have had the control of the Miscellany our way 
 has not been— 
 
 'The primrose path of dalliance ' 
 
 "We have been beset by obstacles innumerable; but having 
 a strong confidence in our ultimate success, we were deter- 
 mined to surmount all barriers, and though we have not, 
 as yet, brought the paper to that pitch of perfection which 
 is our desire, we trust soon to make it as acceptable as is 
 possible to our readers. 
 
 In beginning a new volume, we introduce various inno- 
 vations, tending to the improvement of the paper, in 
 every way that is possible. We shall give each week, an 
 epitome of Irish news — not the bAckuied local quotations 
 which interest only the few, but extracts from the leading 
 journals, which will be gratifying to the many. In this 
 respect, we will not be following in the steps of any of our 
 contemporaries, but, on the contrary, will be striking out 
 a path eminently our own. It will also be our aim to give 
 the best class of wood eng^avings which can be procured, 
 portraying national subjects, and, as our outlay in this re- 
 spect will be intinitely larger than that of any Irish journal 
 published in tbis country, we look for a commensurate re- 
 turn. In short, it is our intention to make the paper meet 
 the requirements of all classes of readers. 
 
 As an inducement, therefore, to new subscribers, we offer 
 to each person who will pay one years' subscription in ad- 
 vance, commencing with the first number of the riEST 
 volume, (not the second, as inadvertantly stated in previous 
 numbers,) directly to us or through any of our authorized 
 local or travelling agents, a copy of our first Gift Picture, 
 representing Sarslield's Surprise of the Seige Train of the 
 Prince of Orange. When completed, each volume of the 
 Miscellany will form a book of four hundred and six- 
 teen (416) pages, and will alone be worth the price of an 
 entire year's subscription. The same inducements are offer- 
 ad to clubs, as to single subscribers. 
 
 ADVERTISEMENTS 
 
 CLUBS! CLUBSi: CLUBS!!! 
 
 There isno'town or village so small, but a club of six or 
 more subscribers for the Irish Miscellany can be easily ob- 
 tained. Will tho.^e of our friends who are well-wishers ol 
 the land of their birth, do us the favor of getting up Clubs. 
 Our terms will be — 
 To a club of six persons sent to one address, S10,0U 
 
 To a club of twelve, 19.00 
 
 The whole of the money must invariably be sent at one 
 remittance, and in advance. 
 
 In addition to this great reduction of price, each member 
 of a Club will be entitled to copies of all our splendid Gift 
 Pictures. Let our friends exert tliemselves, and by their 
 patronage make the Miscellany the foremost Irish journa 
 ou this continent. 
 
 TRAVELLING AGENTS WANTED. 
 
 We have determined to appoint a number of Travelling 
 Agents, to travel in the various States of the Union and 
 canvass for subscribers for this paper We do this at the 
 earnest request of many warm friends, who think we do 
 not take the requisite steps to make the paper known as ex- 
 tensively B^ it ought to be. 
 
 Persona de.'^irous of becoming Travelling Agents, who 
 can be well recommended, are requested to apply atour 
 office forthwith. None but faithful, reliable men need ap- 
 ply. To such a liberal commission will be allowed. Apply 
 at our Publication OOice, 4 Water street, Boston. 
 
 Back Nttjibers o( the Miscellany, irom the commence- 
 ment of the paper, maybe procured through any of our 
 regular agents, or by sendiug direct to the office of publi- 
 cation, No. 4 Water street, Boston. Will our frienda in 
 want bear this fact In mind? 
 
 W. J. HENNESSY, 
 ARTIST, 
 
 No. 37 FKANKLIN STOEET, 
 
 NEW YORK CITY. 
 
 FRANCIS GODFREY, 
 
 IMrOKTER AKD ItESTOltER OF 
 
 ITALIAN PAINTINGS, 
 
 AND MANUFACTURER OF GILT FRAMES, 
 
 12 Franklin Street, Boston. 
 
 D:^ Engravings, Lithographs, Crayons, &c., o.^ sale 
 3m aug28 
 
 MERCANTILE AND WRITING SCHOOL. 
 
 E. J. GLEESON, Master. 
 
 This School is now opened at No. 23 Poktlasd Street, 
 a few doors soutli of Dooley's Exchange Hotel, where a 
 select and limited number of the Youth of both sexes will 
 be admitted; time from 9 A. II. to 12 M., and from 2 P. M 
 to 5 P.M. 
 
 TERMS MODERATE. 
 
 EVENING SCHOOL! 
 
 This school will be opened in the same place on the first 
 evening of next month, where adults and those of riper 
 years, will be carefully and assiduously instructed in the 
 various branches of learning-, suitable to their calling. 
 
 BOOK-KEEPING: 
 
 Mr. Gleeson ventures to say, and pledges bimself without 
 hesitation, that he will qualify young gentlemen for the 
 Counting Room, in half the time that is consumed in simi- 
 lar institutions in tbis city, and at considerable less ex- 
 pense. 
 
 August 17th, 1858. aug28 
 
 FINE READY MADE CLOTHING 
 
 SPBING OVERCOATS, 
 
 BUSINESS COATS, 
 
 FROCK AND DRESS COATS, 
 
 PANTS AND VESTS, 
 
 Good, Stylish, Well Made Garments, 
 
 Sucb as men of taste and good judgment will wear, can at 
 
 all times be found at our store. 
 
 Our aim is to produce for our customers the best Ready 
 
 Made Garments at the lowest possible prices rOR 
 
 CASH. 
 
 Readers of this Journal are earnestly solicited to exam- 
 ine our goods before purchasing. 
 
 J W. SMITH & CO., 
 
 Dock Square, corner Elm Street. 
 myll tf 
 
 GENERAL TICKET OFFICE 
 
 — FOR THE — 
 
 SO UTHERN AND WESTERN STATES 
 
 AHD 
 
 THE CANADAS, 
 No. 2 Albany Street, Bobtok. 
 
 EDWARD EYAN, Agent. 
 
 N. B* — PassflRe to and from Liverpool, and Bills of Ex- 
 change on England, Ireland and Scotland. 
 ai)24 ly 
 
 NORTHERN HOUSE, 
 
 KORTU SQUARE— BOSTON. 
 
 JOHN GLANCT Proprietor. 
 
 This House has rooms equal to any first class Hotel, and 
 permanent or transient Boarders can be accommodated 
 nearly one half cheaper than at any other House in tlie 
 City. 
 
 In the Reading Room can be found all the morning and 
 evening papers, and periodicals of the day, together with 
 an extensive Library, for the free and exclusive use of 
 the I'.riAitnv.us. 
 
 N. B. Strangers yisiting Boston, can always find this 
 House a Ho:mk. 
 
 C-~t IL.VORE'S SALEM (JUADHILLE BAND. E. UP- 
 XTt)N, Jr., Proniptor. Apply to P. S. Gilmore, Es- 
 sex House, Sales, Moiii. 8ia feblS 
 
 ADVEKTISEMENTS. 
 
 THE IRISH VINDICATOR. 
 
 A WEEKLY NEWSl-APER, 
 The Best amd Cheapest I'nnLiSHKD iv America. 
 
 MOST WONDERFUL SUCCESS, 
 
 and has been pronounced by the T'ress and the Public to be 
 superior to any other Irish Weekly in the United States. 
 
 It contains each week, the very 
 
 Latest News from every County in Ireland ; 
 
 Original and entertaining 
 
 STORIES AND ANECDOTES, 
 
 and a variety of Miscellaneous Reading matter, of a charac- 
 ter which cannot fail to elevate and cliaston the intel- 
 lectual appetite. The Irish Vindicator is devoted 
 
 TO THE INTERESTS OF IRISHMEN IN AMERICA, 
 and is so cheap as to be within the reach of the poorest. 
 
 ONLY THREE CENTS A COPY. 
 
 THE rOLLOWIKG ARE THE TERMS 
 
 To any part of the United States, for one year, $1.50 
 
 Do. do. ;do. for 8 mouths, 1.00 
 
 Do. do. do. fori months, 0.50 
 
 Do. do. do. for 1 mouth, 0.12 
 
 To any part of Canada or the British Provinces, one year, 
 
 S2,00 — All payments in advance. 
 
 FOR ADVERTISING, 
 
 12 lines, single insertion »1.00 I 12 lines, 1 month, $2.50 
 
 12 do. 3 months, 5.50 | 12 do. 1 year, 16.00 
 
 Published every week, at the Otiice, No 10 Spruce street, 
 New York, by the Proprietors. 
 
 EDWARD DOWNES CONNEEY & CO. 
 
 New York, march 27 
 
 THE SOUTHERN CITIZEN, 
 
 IS published weekly at Knoxville, Tennessee, by JOHN 
 MITCHELL & WM. G. SWAN, at S2 per annum, or 
 $1 for SIX months, payable invariably in advance. 
 
 Mr. Mitchell having commeneed in the 28th number of 
 the paper, a series of Letters addressed to the Hon. Alex- 
 ander H. Stephens of Georgia, which when completed will 
 fhrnish an entire history ol 
 
 THE IRISH TROUBLES OF 1848, 
 With their Causes and Consequences, 
 The Southern Citizen will be the more interesting to both 
 American and Irish, readers. Besides these contributions 
 from Mr. Mitchel, the Southern Citizen will continue to 
 have its usual quantity of original matter upon political 
 and literary subjects prepared by him. The circulation, 
 though large and constantly increasing, the proprietors 
 have thought will be much more extended by an announce- 
 ment in this form. 
 
 Communications with remittances may be addresed to 
 Mitchel & Swan, Knoxville, Tennessee, or to any of the 
 following Agents : 
 
 S G Courtenay & Co, Charleston, S C; Thomas B O'Con- 
 nor, Savannah, Ga; J C Morgan, New Orleans, La; Jas A 
 Gentry, Qichmond, Va; Alexander Adamson, Washington 
 city; Tallinage& Tunner, Cincinnati, O; PM Haverty, 110 
 Fulton street, N Y; S H Goetzel, 33 Dauphin street. Mobile 
 Ala; Benj B Davis, Masonic Buildin.^, Montgomery, Ala; 
 Ross & Touoey, 121 Nassau street, N 1 , supply dealers only 
 upon reasonable terms; James McGinn, 121 Kearney street 
 San Francisco. 
 
 *»* Clubs of ten will be supplied with the paper for S15. 
 
 I & R. MURPHY, 
 
 MANUFACTURERS OF 
 
 SURGICAL AND DENTAL INSTRUMENTS, 
 CUTLERY, 
 
 AND STEEL WORK OF E\T?RY KIND, 
 No. 3 HARVARD PLACE, (opposite the Old South,) 
 
 BOSTON, Mass. 
 [)^~Cutlery and Instruments of all kinds Repaired, 
 ly aug2S 
 
 DO'ROURKE, respcctflilly informs his friends and the 
 . public, that he keei)s constantlv ou hand COFFINS 
 of all sizes and kinds, at hi.« Coffin 'Jlanufactory, No. a47 
 Federal, between Beach and Kneeland Streets, Boston, 
 which he will sell as reasonable as can be bought at any oth- 
 er place in the city. 
 
 N. B. — Orders punctually attended to, day or night. 
 
 Residence, No. 28 South .street, Boston. 
 
 [C^Grave-Clothes furnished to order at short notice. 
 
 febl3 
 
 PASSENGER CERTIFICATES.j 
 
 TO OLD COUNTKYMF.N. Owkm Mo Namara has 
 Passage Ccrtilicatos and Drafts always ou hand and 
 for sale. As he ilixs bn.^iness Uir that mo.«t re>|)ectable 
 house, (Williams & Gnion) in New York. Old Countrymen 
 desiring to send lor their friends, or remit money, would 
 do well to give him acall at No. 4 Gorham St.. opposite 
 
 -St.. Lowell, Ma 
 
 B. 
 
 S. TKKANOR. ATPORNEY and COUNSELLOR 
 AT LAW, 15 Ma,s8achusetl« Block, Couil Square, 
 
 [CT-Particular attention paid to Conveyancing, and ha 
 
 examination of titles of Real Estate. 
 
128 
 
 IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 TO CORRESPONDENTS. 
 
 ISy Ova CoRKEsrosDENTS should forward oommimloa- 
 tioiu iuteiuled for iuwrtJun iu tliv Mitctllanii, not Uler than 
 the Saturday b«for« the day of publicatiou, as our increas- 
 ing circulation oonipeU us to go to prVM every Monday 
 morning; and sliould be add retted — * lulitorti of tlie Iriitli 
 Mii>cellany, Bonton, Uaiu).' Subticnbersstiould mention the 
 township, county and Slate iu which tliey rvside. 
 
 O*" We cannot return any manuscript sent us for publica- 
 tion. 
 
 A Catholic, Trovidence, It. I.— We arc wi'll nwarc of the 
 objectionable nature of some of the sentiments and opin- 
 ions set forth iu the publication referred to, uh we have 
 frequently bad occasion to erase them. Last week the 
 gentleman whose duty it is to attend to this department 
 was sick, and the work fell upon other hands. We repu- 
 diate such language, and it will not be repeated. We 
 thank you lor calling ouratlentiou to these mutters. 
 James O. Kavaxaqh. I'rovideuce, R. I.— It wasUr. Drcn- 
 nan who lirst designated our country the ' Emerald Isle.' 
 He was the writer of the test of the United Irish Society, 
 and the author of the well-known ode 'To the Memory of 
 William Orr.' and other of the ablest compositions to be 
 found among tlie political literaturt; of his time. 
 Darby MclvJiON.— Our old IVicnd Darby must not take it 
 amiss that his last blast has not yet been beard. The 
 sound of his bugle shall ring through the columns of the 
 Miscellany next week. Would that its music could re- 
 sound from every Irish hill top, and reverberate through 
 every vale and glen of Ireland. 
 A. G. SlALLOY, Buraboo. — Your impromptu on a 'Lady of 
 Fasiiion ' is a good hit at the modern style of ladies' 
 dresses; but we must 'shut ourejcs'to all such 'delicate' 
 matters. ' The Crusader ' shall appear. 
 A Friend, Boston.— Valentine Lord Cloncurry was im- 
 prisoned in the Tower of London during the years 1799 
 and ISOO lor a supposed complicity with llie patriots of '9S. 
 J. A , Sonadeusis, Fa.— We are much obliged; but the por- 
 trait you send is not good enough. The authorship of the 
 verses is doubtful. 
 GLEXiioKE, Boston —The first stanza is very smooth, but 
 the other two are not so perfect. We will see what can be 
 done for you. 
 MosoMA. N. Y.— Your ' Lines to a Friend' will appear in 
 season ; but the subseijucnt poetic tale is more suited to 
 publication in pamphlet form than to our limited space. 
 The Schoolboy, by J. Meagher Kavanagh, is excellent, 
 and shall appear iu due course. A little patience friends. 
 Correspondents not replied to in this number will meet 
 with as early attendance as possible. 
 
 Massachusetts Rei>ublicanism. — Taxing the 
 poor man to pay for the property of the rich is distinc- 
 tively Maisacbusetts Kepublicanisra. Not content with 
 adding two years to the period of probation of adopted 
 citiz>-ns, by the late Rcpul)lican Legislature of Mass- 
 achusetts — feartul of the great democratic element 
 which tliey possess — the state authorities have resorted 
 to another dodge to deprive that hardworliing class of 
 citizens of their vote at the coming election. 
 
 It is now found out that the poll tax should cover 
 one-sixth of the whole state tax, thus making the poor 
 man, who cannot afford to pay any taxes (nor should 
 he pay any,) pay a per ratio from his small pittance, 
 for the relief of property; otherwise the poor man, who 
 has nothing hut his labor without property or other 
 means, must be taxed to protect and help the wealthy, 
 and pay a share from his family's necessity, of that 
 debt which wealth alone owes the state. We are 
 much mistaken, however, if the love of relieving the 
 property of the rich is the real cause of this fanatical 
 movement. It is rather the fear of the growing 
 power and strength of the adopted citizens' vote which 
 is the real cause. 
 
 We rail a poll tax nothing better than a property 
 nualification, and that the working man may be shut 
 out from the ballot-box, is this high-handed policy 
 now resorted to. Where is the voice of the democracy 
 that from every stump docs not assail this foul in- 
 fringement of the citizens' right?— where the law that 
 disfranchises him because he is not wealthy? If it 
 exists blot the foul stain from the statute which makes 
 the distinction between wealth and labor. We are 
 very much mistaken if this thing can long exist; nay, 
 it must be crushed out. Property alone owes the 
 debt and must be made to pay it. O. 
 
 Mr. Jajles Svluvax, our indefatigable travel- 
 ling agent, will visit the state of Connetieut on 
 business for the Miscellany this week, when we hope 
 our friends there will give hint a cordial welcome. 
 
 West Trot, Sept. 15, 1858. 
 Editors of the Irish Miscellnny — 
 
 Sirs — Hermit mo to ask your reason for discontinu- 
 ing publishing the sheet of music which you were wont 
 to insert in your paper? It is indeed a sore stroke to 
 many of your (rieiuls, as many of them look your 
 paper solely on account o( that ' soul-stirring Irish 
 music' It would, indeed, bo a pleasure to all your 
 fi lends to behold once more a sheet of musie in your 
 paper. Amicus. 
 
 In publishing a newspaper, or a literary periodi- 
 cal like the Irish Miscellany, it is difficult to meet 
 the tastes of every class of readers. Thus one reader 
 complains that we do not publish Dr. Cahill's very 
 able letters ; another that we do not give more news 
 from Ireland ; a third says he does not want such 
 news in a literary publication ; a fourth that the space 
 devoted to music might be occupied wiili better inut- 
 tcr,and soon to iheend of thecliaptcr. We cannot mtet 
 the wishes of all our friends, and must therefore steer 
 a course guided by the chart we have maile. Our pros- 
 pectus is our guide, moditicd by such circumstances as 
 time and experience dictate. We have, therefore, to 
 say in answer to our friend 'Arnicas,' and others who 
 have written to us on the same matter, that we have 
 not discontinued the publication of our fine old airs. 
 We look upon that department of our paper as one of 
 its great features ; but we intend to publish them only 
 occasionally. We thus hope to meet the wishes of our 
 readers, and preserve the musical feature of our sheet. 
 — [Ed. Irish Mis. 
 
 ADVERTISEMENTS 
 
 Lawrence Brigade Band. — This fine band, un- 
 der the excellent leadership of the gentlemanly Mr. 
 Desmond, composed of a body of young men con- 
 nected with St Mary's Catholic Church, Lawrence, 
 Mass., who have devoted their time and talents to the 
 study and practice of the ' divine art,' have now reach- 
 ed a degree of perfection which unremitting applica- 
 tion alone can produce. Their deserved popularity is 
 fully attested by their numerous and well attended 
 concerts at the City Hall, Lawrence, and at Hunting- 
 ton Hall, Lowell. The celebration of last St. Patrick's 
 Day, in Dover, N. H., by the Irish Benevolent Asso- 
 ciation of that city, who secured their services, and 
 again, on a recent excursion of that society to Alton 
 Bay, called forth on their performances the highest 
 enconiums of ihe Dover press. It affords us pleasure 
 to perceive that these young men, who thus devote 
 their time to so laudable an object, should receive 
 due encouragement and support, and we would recom- 
 mend all our Irish societies, and friends in general, 
 when they wish to enliven their occasional festivities, 
 to secure the services of the ' Lawrence Brigade.' 
 
 OvR Gift PicTrRE Once More. — "UTien we first 
 announced to our subscribers our intention to pre- 
 sent them with a picture representing one of the 
 most gallant exploits recorded in military annals, as 
 illustrative of that brave and daring spirit which 
 has characterized our race on many a battle field, 
 we little thought of the care, anxiety and trouble 
 which we had marked out for ourselves. However, 
 we rejoice to say that it is now over. The difficulty 
 which occurred between the gentlemen who agreed 
 to execute the picture for us and ourselves is at an 
 end. They have since acted towards us as became 
 respectable business men, and we think the whole 
 diffirulty arose through a mistake. They have done 
 everything befitting men of integrity and honor to 
 end the dispute. Every one of our subscribers will 
 now have their picture with the ne.xt number of this 
 paper. 
 
 TEN READY WAYS TO MAKE MONEY, being ten 
 original receipts for the manufacture of usefularti- 
 cies. which command a quick sale, and insure a I'ull pocket. 
 Formerly sold for So; but now sent tc any person lor one 
 gold dollar. Address T L. KEILLY, I'eace Dale, K. I. 
 
 al8 
 
 3t 
 
 LA'SrRF^-CE BRIGADE BAND. J. DEaMONi>, Lead- 
 er. Are prepared to fUruish Music for Military and 
 Civic Faradts. I'ic-Nics, Festivals, &c. Also, a Quadrille 
 Band furnished, if desired. Address J. Dearaond, care of 
 R«v. J. O'Donnell, Lawrenca, Hau. 
 
 OLD COLONY HOUSE. 
 
 PATRICK HOLLY begs leave to announce to his pat- 
 rons uud Ilie public geuenillv tliul he has coustautly 
 ou hand at liis old and well-kuun'u stuud, 
 
 THE OLD COLONY HOUSE, 
 
 CORNER OF KNEELAND MID SOUTH STREETS, 
 
 A CHOICE ASSORTMENT OF 
 
 BRANDIES, WINES, SCOTCH & IRISH 
 
 WHISKEY, CIGARS, &c. &c., 
 
 all of the very first quality, which can be obtained too at 
 
 LOWER RATES 
 
 tlian cUewhcre in the market; in proof of which be invllea 
 purchusurn to give litni a cull. aug 28 
 
 SOUTH END CATHOLIC BOOK STORE, 
 
 And Depot for the Sale of the 
 
 METROPOLITAN AXD YOUTHS' MAGAZINES. 
 
 WILLIAM KEATING, Aobnt, 
 
 8 1-2 Uarriiion Avenue, or at his New Periodical Store, 176 
 
 Harrison Avenue, BoBtou, Ma»8., 
 
 Where a great variety of the most popular Books and 
 
 Papers cam be had at the very lowest prices, 
 
 WILL supply Clubs, Agents, Canva>;sers, &c.. on the 
 same terms us the Publishers. The lollowing are 
 the terms— 3 copies will be sent by mail, to one uddrcHS, for 
 one vear S5; 6 copies for $10; 13 copies for 820; 20 copies 
 for S30. 
 
 \C?^ On the receipt of S3, three copies of the Cathotio 
 Youth's Magazine and one copy of the Metropolitan will 
 be mailed regularly lor one year. 
 
 or?* A few sets of the Magazines from the beginniue. can 
 be had of the Agent. Also, all new books fumifincd as 
 soon as published. ap24 3mo8 
 
 CATHOLIC BOOK STORE. 
 
 WiLLIAM HICKEY, Catholic Books^eller, and Agent 
 for the Extensive Publishing House of D. & J. 
 Sadlier & Co., of Kew York. 
 The latest and most varied stock of Religious Prints, 
 MISSALS, PRAYER. BOOKS, CROSSES, 
 and all fbe Current Literature, constantly on hand. 
 
 No. 128 Federal (corner of Williams) street, 
 BOSTON, MASS. 
 
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 Corner of Federal and Purchase streets, foot of Summer 
 
 street, Boston. 
 
 STRICT personnl attention paid to compounding Physi 
 cian's Prescriptions. A choice selection of Family 
 Medicines constantly on hand. A well selected stock of 
 genuine imported Perftiraery and Fancy Goods. Soda 
 Water with choice Syrups. A large assortment of genuine 
 Havana Segars constantly on hand. ap6 
 
 OUR AGENTS. 
 
 Boston.— John J. Dyer, & Co., 36 School street; A. Wil- 
 liams & Co., 100 WashinRton street ; Fedheren & Co., 9 and 
 13 Court street: Wm. Hickey, 128 Federal street; Howe fc 
 Co., 11 Court Avenue; and William Keutiug, 176 Harrison 
 Avenue, 
 
 Bangor, Me.— Edward J. Kelleher. 
 
 New York.— Dexter & Brother, 14 & 16 Ann street. 
 
 Troy, N. Y. — Francis Roark. 
 
 Philadelphia.— A. Winch. 320 Chestnut street. 
 
 Ohio.— M. H. Bird, Cincinnati, and Hawks & Brothers, 
 Cleaveland. 
 
 Detroit. Mich.— J. A. Roys. 
 
 St. Louis. Slissouri. —Thomas Duggan. 
 
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 The Miscellany may also be hud, retail, of newspaper and 
 periodical dealers throughout the country. 
 
 TltAVELLlNO AGENTS. 
 
 John Warren, 60 Andover street, for Boston and vicinity. 
 James Doyle, of Millbury, Mass. M. Fiudlay McKay, 
 of Amesbury. Mass. Edward H. Keeuan, ol North Ferns- 
 burg, Vt. Michael F. Hackett, of Providence, K. I. James 
 SulRvan, of New Haven, Ct. Robert Crowe, of Brooklyn, 
 N. Y. James Cullen, of West Troy, N. Y. Daniel A. Bros- 
 nau, of Philadelphia, Pa. 
 
 THE 
 
 IRISH MISCELLANY 
 
 Is published weekly, and devoted to the interests and vin- 
 dication of the Irish people throughout the world. 
 
 The MisceUany republishes each week one whole number 
 of the old ' Dublin Penny Jouunal,' with original and 
 selected essays, reviews, poetry, &c., by Irishmen, of first- 
 rate ability. ' It also contains beantifnl Pictoriar Illustra- 
 tions of Irish scenery and other objects of interest, among 
 which may be enumerated engravings ot the ancient cas- 
 tles and round towers, the ruins of the old churches, the 
 plundered monasteries, convents and abbeys of Ireland. 
 
 It will also contain correct Pictorial representations ol 
 works of art executed by Irishmen ot the present day, as 
 well as iu former times, in ttiis country and throughout 
 Europe. 
 
 Tbbhb. — S2,00 per year, invariably in advance. 
 WALSH & CO. PROPRIETORS, 
 
 No. 4 Water Strbbt, Bostom, 11aS8. 
 
 ii 
 
VOLUME 2— NUMBER 35.] 
 
 BOSTON, SATURDAY, OCTOBER 9, 1858. 
 
 [PRICE FOUR CENTS 
 
 FATHER MATHEW— HfS BIRTHPLACE. 
 
 Our illustration presents a -view of Thomastown 
 Castle, in Ireland, the birthplace of Father Mathew. 
 The scene is not without interest, since the 'apostle 
 of temperance ' made that country the field of his 
 labors, administering the pledge of total abstinence 
 to hundreds of thousands of his countrymen and 
 others, and became widely known throughout the 
 world. Father Mathew was quite a marked man in 
 his personal appearance. We very well remember 
 a clerical-looking gentleman, attired in a suit of 
 black, with small clothes and silk stockings, a bene- 
 volent e.\pression on his rather large but handsome 
 features, with a bright intelligent eye, and the man- 
 ners of a gentleman. Our readers are all familiar 
 with the career of this remarkable man. For years 
 he was engaged in the work of redeeming his fellow- 
 countrymen from the grasp of intemperance. His 
 labors resulted in eminent blessings to them in his 
 native land. Some years ago he visited America, 
 travelled through the length and breadth of the 
 land, administering the pledge, and left the impress 
 so distinctly marked here, that multitudes hail him 
 even at the present time as their deliverer from the 
 power of a vice debasing and destructive of every 
 hope of honor or advancement. We need not eulo- 
 gize him ; his name is written upon the imperisha- 
 ble tablet of many a heart, and he will long be re- 
 membered as the apostle of temperance, and regis- 
 
 tered as a public benefactor, when many a marble 
 record of factitious greatness shall have been effaced 
 by the tooth of time. The Rev. Theobald Mathew 
 was born on the 10th of October, 1790, at Thomas- 
 town, near Cashel, in the county of Tipperary. 
 Mr. Matthew lost his parents at an early period of 
 life, and was then adopted by Lady Elizabeth 
 Mathew. About the age of thirteen, he was sent 
 to the lay academy of Kilkenny, and after remain- 
 ing there seven years, he was sent to Maynooth, to 
 pursue his ecclesiastical studies. After some time, 
 stimulated by the example of two old Catholic friars 
 of Kilkenny, he joined their order. On Easter 
 Saturday, in the year 1814, he was ordained Roman 
 Catholic priest, and soon after proceeded to Cork. 
 In the discharge of his ministerical duties he has 
 ever been zealous and untiring. He has made the 
 
 1 poor and the deserted the objects of his special care, 
 and the more wealthy classes placed full confidence 
 
 j in his integrity. As a witness to, and the executor 
 of wills, he has had a large portion of the wealth of 
 Cork pass through his hands. With the manage- 
 ment of all the public charities there he was more 
 or less connected, and the time he was long able to 
 devote to meetings of committees, &c., was the as- 
 tonishment of every one. By his exertions, and 
 almost entirely at his own expense, he had also 
 established there a cemetery, which is one of great 
 beauty. Although frequently called the ' Apostle 
 
 of Temperance,' the Rev. Mr. Mathew was not the 
 originator of temperance societies. They were first 
 formed in the United States ; and the Rev. George 
 Carr established the first in Europe in August, 1829, 
 at New Ross, Ireland. Shortly after, one was formed 
 at Cork, and Mr. Mathew, from his great popular- 
 ity, was invited to assist in carrying out the designs 
 of the founders, who belonged chiefly to the Society 
 of Friends. At first there was but little progress 
 made ; but at length, and particularly in 1838, the 
 rapidity of the advancement of the temperance 
 cause was astonishingly great. At this period, two 
 days in each week were devoted by Mr. Mathew to 
 administering the pledge. Day after day the streets 
 of Cork were crowded with those who came to take 
 the pledge. It seemed as if some. mania had seized 
 the people ; it was a movement which none could 
 doubt, and yet which few could understand. The 
 people came from all parts — from places near and 
 from others at a great distance. They came unasked 
 and unsolicited, and they braved every hardship, 
 want and fatigue to accomplish the journey. Hisiu- 
 flcnce over his fellow-man is almost unparalelled. 
 
 Thomastown Castle has been occupied by Father 
 Mathcw's family ever sin 'C they went to Ireland from 
 Wales, in 1610. The castle witli ils domain is con- 
 sidered as one of the most beautiful phices in Ireland. 
 It is situated in what is called the Golden Valley, abottt 
 four miles from Cashel, in the countj' of Tipperary. 
 
 ^:^^k^^ 
 
 BIRTHPLACE OF FAIIIEK MA TllLW — THOMASTOWN CASTLE, COITNTY TIPPERARY. 
 
130 
 
 IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 MORNING ON R08TREV0R MOUNTAIN. 
 
 ''Yin uioruiug— frum their heutluT tt'U 
 
 The curllug luistaariNe, 
 Aud olroliDg diirk Slievudonard'tf hoad, 
 
 Afccud ihe drowtiy t*kies. 
 Tis moruing! aud beside Cloch-mhor 
 
 In solitude 1 ataud, 
 A stronger uu my natal shore, 
 
 And this, my fatherland. 
 
 Kostrevor! each illumin'd line 
 
 or early lil'es romuUL-e, 
 Deep iu this magic page of thino 
 
 le mirror'd to my glance : 
 Clouallau's spir*, Koectta's shades. 
 
 From Classic Arno's Vale 
 To Ballyedmoud's groves and glades— 
 
 Ijind ofmy homage, hail! 
 
 You orb— the bcaulil\il, the bold, 
 
 llath Iclt his ocean bride, 
 And ft'om her couch of wavy gold 
 
 Comes forth iu regal pride. 
 Fair sun— I've seen that crown of mys 
 
 As gallautly put ou, 
 Aud uiurfd thy robes ofcriinsou haze 
 
 O'er other waters thrown. 
 
 Rock'd on the billowy bed that htaves 
 
 Beneath the burning liuc, 
 I've seen where the borizou weaves 
 
 Its purple threads with thiue, 
 Aud bail'd iu all their pride of birth. 
 
 Thy purest lustrec given. 
 To gladden scenes more fair than earth — 
 
 The sea — the sea and heav'u ! 
 
 Yes! and where Uunga's mighty streams 
 
 Their sacred water's spread, 
 I've seen beneath thy worshipped beams 
 
 Ten thousands bow the head : 
 And by the IJrahmiu's funeral pile 
 
 In that far hemisphere. 
 Sunrise, alas! I've met thy smile, 
 
 Mocking the burning bier! 
 
 In Saugur's sickly jungle met — 
 
 Met on the arid sand. 
 Where the dark domes of Juggernaut's 
 
 Profane pagoda's stand — 
 Met in Calcutta's graveyard gloom, 
 
 Piercing the tainted air, 
 Thy sick'uing rays — a marble tomb 
 
 Engulfs my memory there. 
 
 Once high o'er Afric's southern seas, 
 
 In solitary mood, 
 ■VVithin the ' Vale of silver trees,' 
 
 On Table Hill I stood; 
 The fresh free air, the morning beam, 
 
 The vapour crested brow, 
 01 Collee-Uolland— as a dream. 
 
 All pass before me now. 
 
 Again, adown and deep ravine, 
 
 I gaze on fruit and flower — 
 A labyrinth maze of silky green — 
 
 A mauy-tinted bower: 
 Tall aloes crown the rocky steep; 
 
 Pomegranite blooms are spread, 
 And the umkoba branches sweep 
 
 Acro.'is the torrent's bed. 
 
 Blushes the crassula, as when 
 
 Its scarlet blossoms lay 
 In the wild tig or sumach glen, 
 
 That looks ou Table Bay; 
 Aud ships bear up by Kobcn's Isle, 
 
 From larthest India's shore. 
 False dreams, away ! ye but beguile — 
 
 I stand beside Cloch-mhor. 
 
 THE FEMALE AUCTIONEER. 
 
 ^Who 'II buy a heart?' sweet Harriet cries — 
 Harriet the blooming and the fair, 
 
 "Wbose lovely form and dove-like eyes 
 Can banish grief and sooth despair. 
 
 * Come, bid— my heart is up for sale ; 
 
 Will no one bid ? Pray, sirs, consider, 
 ^is kind, and sound, and fond, and bale. 
 And a great bargain to the bidder.' 
 
 ' I bid,' savs Gripus— ' I will pay 
 A thousand guineas promptly told.' 
 
 'That's no bid, sir — let me say 
 A fealthful heart 's not bought with gold.' 
 
 ' I bid, with marriage faith, and plight 
 A heart,' says Frank, ' with love o'erflowing.' 
 
 * Ay. that 's a bid — that' something right — 
 
 And now my heart is — going! going 1 ' 
 
 OLD NANNIE BOVD. 
 
 One evening, during the .sivire winter of 1799, 
 B8 Niinnie lioyil ciime in from the bhyre (cow- 
 house), with a pail of milk in her hand, she thus 
 nddrcssed her family — 'This is yaun to be a very 
 severe night, childcr. I saw in the morning that 
 the tup o' blievo Bawn, between u« and the glens, 
 was while wi' snu' ; 1 hae been now upwards 
 of forty years living in this place, and I danna re- 
 member to hac seen a mair gloomy and disniul- 
 looking evening. Gang you. Bub, and put the sheep 
 in some s-afe and sheltry place : they are a' come 
 t.own from Knoekrammer, as if led by .some natural 
 foreboding to Knockcoghram, on purpose, it would 
 seem, to be near the houses and human aid : and 
 gang you. Jack, and bring in mair peats ; for you 
 may depend it will be an easier task now than in 
 the morning : and, Jean,' said .she to the girl, 'bring 
 in plenty o' water.' 
 
 ller orders no one disputed. Her son, wrapping 
 him.sclf in his g'eat coat, set cH' w ith the dog to the 
 hill. The tuvf and water were soon brought in ; 
 and a large tire put on. Nannie took her seat at 
 her wheel in the corner, and several of the neigh- 
 bors' girls, who, according to custom, come in with 
 their wheels, formed a semi-circle round the fire, 
 and commenced their nightly task with one of 
 Uurns's songs — 
 
 'The gloomy night is gathering fast.' 
 
 An hour had elapsed, when Nannie stopped her 
 wheel, and said — 
 
 'I wonder what detains Bab sae lang on the hill r' 
 
 'Hoot,' said one of the girls, 'do ye think that 
 Bab will be in Knockcoghram, and no gang owre to 
 the Brownstown, and see his sweet-heart.' 
 
 Nannie seemed satisfied, and resumed her wheel. 
 
 The wind had now risen, and a choking drift was 
 falling fast. A rap came to the door ; but as every 
 one lifted the latch, and came in without any cere- 
 mony, little attention was paid to it ; till a second 
 was given, when one of the girls rose, and opened 
 the door. A man of genteel appearance entered, 
 covered with snow, from which being disengaged, 
 he thus addressed the family : 
 
 'This is a very snowy night, and I believe I have 
 nearly lost my way. Is there any one in this house 
 will conduct me safe to Broughshane, and I will re- 
 ward him handsomely.' 
 
 'I'm thinking,' said Nannie, 'ye had beter come 
 forward to the fire, an' warm yersel' ; its an unco 
 cauld night ; and I doubt there's nane in the town 
 could gang wi' ye, but my son, Bab ; and he's no 
 in at present. Sit down at the fire, aud we'll see 
 what can be done." 
 
 The stranger took a seat ; and Nannie, without 
 saying a word, lighted a candle, stepped into the 
 room, and soon returned with a plate of butter, 
 some oat-cakes, and the heel of a cheese, which she 
 placed on the kitehen table, saying to the stran- 
 ger— 
 
 'Turn round your chair, and take a bite o' bread ; 
 ye nae, maybe, travelled a lang road the day, and 
 ye canna be the worse o' eating something." 
 
 The gentleman thanked her, turned round, and 
 took a hearty luncheon, adding 'that he had come 
 from Cushendall, by what the people there told him 
 was the shortest way to Broughshane, though I 
 suspect,' said he, 'that they intended to put me 
 wrong ; yet, I must acknowledge, that they told 
 me also that the road I was travelling would take 
 me to my destination." 
 
 'Might I raak sea free,' said Nannie, 'as to ask 
 what business ye follow, that obliged ye to come 
 owre the hills at this season o' the year. It was 
 weel the ground was frozen ; otherwise ye might 
 hae been lost a' the gither.' 
 
 'Indeed, Madam,' said the stranger, 'I am a sol- 
 dier : at present under strict orders to join my regi- 
 ment now in Ballymena ;' giving his name at the 
 aame time. 
 
 At the mention of the word soldier, one of the 
 girls slipped out. 
 
 'And if ye be a soldier,' said Nannie, 'why but 
 ye hae on a red coat ? I ay like to see folk appear- 
 ing in their proper colors.' 
 
 'That is very right," said the gentleman ; 'but I 
 only arrived from Scotland yesterday ; and as the 
 people in this country were so lately in a state of 
 insurrection, I thought it safest to put on colored 
 clothes, lest I might meet with some insult, or, per- 
 haps worse, from the inhabitants, among whom I 
 am a total stranger." 
 
 ' Ye needna hae been sae scar'd," replied Nannie, 
 • for ye woudna hae met wi' ony thing but civility 
 either in the glens or in the braid ; that is, provided 
 ye conducted yersel' discreetly, as a stranger ought 
 to do ; for though the glens folk are maistly Homan 
 Catholics, and, we in the braid, maistly Presbyter- 
 ians, yet we live on the best terms. When ony o' 
 folk gangs down there, they are treated wi' the ut- 
 most kindness and friendly feeling, and when they 
 come up here we do what we can to make a re- 
 turn. 
 
 ' I wish, Madame," answered the stranger, ' that 
 this was the universal practice in Ireland ; but I 
 forget Broughshane, which, if possible, I must be 
 in to-night." 
 
 ' Indeed," answered Nannie, ' I just think ye may 
 be thankfu' that ye"re in bigged we"s. Do ye hear 
 how awfu' the storm is raging without, an" the drift 
 whirling through the air — (I wish Bab was hame); 
 look at that window and see how its blinded wi" the 
 sna. Ye man e"en content yersel" whar ye are till 
 the marning ; I can gie ye a clean bed and plenty 
 o" blankets, which ye'U find usefu' Ou sae cauld a 
 night." 
 
 The gentleman went to the door, looked out, and 
 returned, saying ' he would be happy to accept of 
 her friendly offer, as the night was getting still 
 worse." 
 
 Shortly after, her son Bob returned, almost 
 choked with drift, and covered with snow ; from 
 which being disengaged, he sat down at the fire, 
 saying that he never had experienced so severe a 
 night. 
 
 ' This is a stranger," said his mother, ' that wants 
 somebody to conduct him to Broughshane ; but I 
 think he is better here than out in sic a night ; he"s 
 a military man, and gaun on some important busi- 
 ness I suppose ; but nobody could g'ang out the 
 night on ony account." 
 
 ' It would be," replied her son, ' a tempting o' 
 Providence to gang the length o' Skirry, through sic 
 storm ; he will, I hope, content himself whar he is 
 till the marning." 
 
 The stranger and Bob soon got into conversation ; 
 the former related many interesting anecdotes in 
 military life, and described many of the towns in 
 which he had been quartered, and some of the most 
 remarkable highland hills, glens, and mountains 
 that he had visited, and with which he seemed quite 
 familiar ; but when he told them that the city of 
 London contained more inhabitants than the coun- 
 ties of Antrim and Down put together, they were 
 amazed, and scarcely gave credit to his assertion. — 
 Bob, on the other hand, told him that the place 
 where he now was, was called the Fourtowns of 
 Skirry in the braid ; that though it was a moun- 
 tainous district, the inhabitants were a tolerably 
 well-informed class, having a respectable book-club, 
 and the newspapers circulating regularly among 
 them, &c. 
 
 In this way the night passed till bed-time, and 
 after all the night"s avocations were finished. Bob 
 brought forward the ' bigha bible, ance his father"3 
 pride," and seating himself, said, with becoming 
 gravity, ' let us worship God.' Choosing a psalm, 
 he commenced singing, in which he was joined by 
 the stranger and all the family, and afterwards he 
 read a chapter in the bible, and then knelt down to 
 
IRISH MISCELLAISY. 
 
 131 
 
 piay, offering up the thanks of a grateful and pious 
 heart to the dispenser of all good, for the protection 
 ■which his humble roof afforded them in such a 
 dreadful night ; imploring His protecting care over 
 such as were so unfortunate as to bo overtaken by 
 the storm, or, perhaps, perishing in the snow. 
 
 The gentleman, after all was finished, remarked 
 that he almost fancied himself at home in Scotland, 
 observing, at the same time, that from the accounts 
 which he had been taught to believe, he did not 
 suppose that any portion of the inhabitants of Ire- 
 land %vere so strictly religious ; but he was assured 
 by Bob, that what he now witnessed was a common 
 practice in many districts of Ireland. 
 
 The night still continued wild, while the tempest 
 o'er the chimney top sounded a melancholy dirge. 
 They all repaired to rest, but Jack still thought 
 on — 
 
 ' Ilk happing bird, we helpless thing, 
 That iu the merry months o' spring 
 Delighted me to hear thee sing; 
 
 What comes o' thee? 
 Whare wilt thou cow'r thy chittering wiug. 
 
 And close thy e'e?' 
 
 It is enough to say that the next morning was as 
 bad as the preceding night ; and the storm contin- 
 ued with unabated fury till the following morning, 
 during which time the stranger amused himself 
 reading a newspaper and some of the books belong- 
 ing to the club ; and after the weather became set- 
 tled, it was deemed impracticable to go any length 
 from the house. 
 
 'Since path is none, save that to bring 
 The needful water from the spring.' 
 
 But in a few days the road was deemed passable, 
 and he, after proffering Nannie a handsome remune- 
 ration for her trouble, which she peremptorily re- 
 fused, proceeded, under the guidance of Bob, to the 
 road leading to Broughshane, which, after much 
 difficulty, they gained. Here the gentleman again 
 requested Bob to accept of some recompense for his 
 trouble, but this he absolutely refused ; and, after 
 a cordial shake of hands, and many thanks on the 
 part of tlie stranger, they parted. 
 
 It is generally known that the leaders of the in- 
 surgents in the county of Antrim, in case they were 
 defeated, had appointed the mountain of Slemish, a 
 high and conspicuous hill, near the centre of the 
 county of Antrim, as their chief place of rendez- 
 vous, and at this place they were to consult what 
 was next to be done. 
 
 It happened that a Mr. A. H y, who had the 
 
 command of the pikemen, or at least a large party 
 of them, at the battle of Antrim, was wounded by a 
 musket ball in the front of his shoulder, which pen- 
 etrated so far that it had to be extracted from the 
 opposite side ; with difficulty and peril, he made his 
 way to Slemish, and through some means or other, 
 got shelter, though a perfect stranger, iu Nannie 
 Boyd's till his wound would be whole, which it 
 was at the time of the stranger's calling, though he 
 was still unable to use it. Mr. A. H y happen- 
 ed to be in a neighbor's house, the night already 
 mentioned, and the girl hearing the stranger say 
 that he belonged to the military, she conjectured he 
 
 was a spy, and so she warned Mr. A. 11 y not to 
 
 venture into the house till the stranger had left the 
 place, in consequence of which he remained where 
 he was till the gentleman's departure. At this 
 period orders had been issued by the military, who 
 then had the administration of the law, that a paper 
 containing the names of all the family, males and 
 females, should be posted on the outside door of 
 every inhabited house. This was done to Nannie 
 Boyd's; but the stranger either did not, or seemed 
 not to take any notice of it. He well knew, how- 
 ever, that all the family were not at home ; for Nan- 
 nie had informed him that she had two other sons, 
 who were tradesmen, and would not be home for 
 some time. 
 
 During the summer of that year, one night, when 
 
 all the family were fast asleep, old Nannie was 
 awakened by the trai^ling of feet about the house, 
 and a loud and furious knocking at the door, de- 
 manding entrance. She rose hastily, and lighted a 
 candle, when she found, to her great dismay, that 
 the whole house was surrounded by a large party of 
 military, foot and horse ; she opened the door, in 
 great trepidation, as was denianded, and an officer, 
 accompanied by a number of soldiers, entered ; but 
 the moment the officer saw her he ordered the men 
 to retire, and, stretching out both hands to her, 
 asked how she was. 
 
 She drew back, saying, ' That she didn't think he 
 would hae been sae unkind as to come about her 
 house at that hour o' the night, wi' a parcel of 
 soldiers to frighten her sae ; nor did she think she 
 had deserved such treatment at his hand.' 
 
 He clasped both her hands while a tear started 
 in his eye. ' No, m3''good woman, don't think me so 
 base ; I knew nothing of the)place I was coming to, 
 being conducted by an informer, who told the com- 
 manding officer in Ballymena, that he would, for a 
 certain sum, bring us to a house in which was one 
 of the rebel leaders ; but it is, perhaps best, that I 
 was appointed to command the party.' So saying, 
 he stepped out, and ordered the men to keep their 
 stations round the house, and let no one escape; 
 adding that he was acquainted with the people of 
 the house, and would search it himself, which he 
 did very strictly ; but there was one place that he 
 did not come near, and there lay concealed poor Mr. 
 A. H— — y, in trembling expectation of his fate. — 
 Finding none but the family, he ordered the men 
 away, and with a hearty shake hands, and warm 
 and fervent prayer from old Nannie for his welfare, 
 he took his leave. Long after the officer left the 
 
 country, Mr. A. H y was made a prisoner, and 
 
 lodged in Carrickfergus gaol ; but as no witness ap- 
 peared against him, he was at length liberated, 
 when he went to Glasgow, and died there only a 
 few years ago. Some years after her son's mar- 
 riage, Nannie went to reside with her daughter at 
 Kaloo, where she died, and is buried in lialoo 
 graveyard, near Lame. Her son Bob died in America 
 in 1852. Many years after, when Jack had, by 
 his industry, advanced himself to a higher grade in 
 society, he happened to spend an evening among a 
 number of literary characters and other gentlemen 
 in Belfast ; one of whom related, by way ot anec- 
 dote, some of the principal events above mentioned ; 
 Jack viewed him more minutely, and discovered 
 that he was the same person who had lodged with 
 Nannie during the snow storm, and on making 
 himself known, and reminding him of some minute 
 circumstances, it is impossible to describe the kind- 
 ness and friendship which he experienced from the 
 officer, whose inquiries about Nannie and her family 
 were sincere and affectionate. 
 
 Simple Science. — Nature presents us with numer- 
 ous instances of minute subdivisions, which utterly 
 baffle our powers of conception. 
 
 Thus human hair varies in thickness irom the 250th 
 to the 600.h part of an inch, and each one is a capil- 
 lary tube. The fibre of the coarsest wool is about the 
 500th part of an inch in diameter, and the finest only 
 the ISOOtli part The silk line, as spun by the worm, 
 is about the 5000 ih part of an inch thick; but a spi- 
 der's line is, perhaps, six times finer, or only tlio 
 30,0110th part of an inch in diameter, insomuch, that a 
 single pound of this attenuated, yet perfect substance, 
 would bo sufficient to encompass our globe. 
 
 Animalcula; are so small, that many thousands to- 
 gether are smiiller then the point of a needle. Lee- 
 wtnhock says there are more animals in the milt of a 
 codfish, than men on the whole earth, and that a sin- 
 gle grain of sand is larger that four thousand of these 
 animiils. Moreover, a particle of the blood of one of 
 these auimalcuhe has been found, by a calculation to 
 be as much less than a globe of 1-lOth of an inch in 
 diameter, as that globe is less than the whole earth. 
 
 lie states that a grain of Band, in diameter but the 
 hundredth part of an inch, will cover 125,000 of the 
 orifices through which wc perpirc, and that of some 
 animalcula;, .'{.OOO arc not equal to a grain of sand. 
 
 It is ascertained by the microscope, that the smallest 
 insects with which wc are aei|uainted are themselves 
 infested with other insects as much smaller than them- 
 selves, as those are smaller than the larger animali 
 that they infest. How inconceivably small then must 
 be the parts of such organized creatures ! But by 
 analogy we may carry our reasoning still further by 
 conceiving that even these creatures may again be in- 
 fested with others proportionably smaller, till we are 
 as much lost in the scale of descent, as we are in that 
 of ascent through the regions of the universe. 
 
 Hence this part of the creation, and the laws of or- 
 ganization, confound the inquiries of men even more 
 than the vastness of the universe ; for our most pow- 
 erful microscope enables us to magnify with effect only 
 40 or 50 thousand times, whereas the atoms concerned 
 in producing the phenomena of nature are doubtless 
 millions of times less than the smallest object that can 
 be seen with the naked eye. 
 
 Odors are capable of a much wider diffusion, if we 
 are to ascribe their action to the radiation of atoms, 
 and not, as many suppose, at any affection of the 
 medium by which they are surrounded. A single 
 grain of musk has been known to perfume a room for 
 the space of twenty years. 
 
 And a piece of wire gilt eight grains, or the sixtieth 
 of an ounce of gold, may be drawn out to a length of 
 15,00o feet, the whole surface of it still remaining cov- 
 ered with gold. 
 
 A graio of gold may be beaten to cover 50 square 
 inches, whiih is then only the hundred-thousandth part 
 of an inch thick ; and still it maintains all its qualities 
 as gold. 
 
 If a grain of gold be melted with a pound, or 5,760 
 grains of silver, and a single grain of the mass be dis- 
 solved in diluted nitric acid, the gold, though only the 
 5761st part of a grain, will fall to the bottom and be 
 visible, while the silver remains dissolved in the 
 acid. 
 
 A grain of silver may be beaten till a microscope 
 shows 1000 distinc; parts ; if one of these be then dis- 
 solved, it will tinge 18000 grains of water; a grain is 
 therefore divisible into 18,000,000 sensible parts. 
 
 A pound of cotton has been spun so fine that it 
 would extend 168,000 yards, or 25 miles. A quantity 
 of vitrei being dissolved and mixed with 9000 times as 
 much water will tinge the whole ; consequently it will 
 be divided into as many parts as there are visibl-; por- 
 tions of matter in that water. If a candle be lighted, it 
 will then be visible about two miles aronnd, and, con- 
 sequently, were it placed two miles above the surface 
 of the earth, it would fill with luminous particles a 
 sphere whose diameter is four miles, and before it had 
 lost any sensible part of its weight. 
 
 It is not, however, to be hence presumed that the 
 space is filled with luminous rays, for rays of light 
 travel 200,0j0 miles in a second, and 20 per second 
 produce continuous vision. Hence, if we divide the 
 circumference, 12 miles, or 7,200,000 tenths of an inch, 
 there will, at one time, be but 1,440 rays emanating 
 from the candle, so as to produce distinct visions two 
 miles distant in every tenth of an inch. The effect of 
 odors may be similar. Indeed, a caudle fixes oxygen 
 while it parts with light. 
 
 Montserrat had Irish colonists for its early settlers, 
 and the negroes to this day have the Connaught brogue 
 curiously and ludicrously engrafted on the African jar- 
 gon. It is said that a Connaughtman, on arriving at 
 Montserrat, was, to his astonishment, hailed in a verna- 
 cular Irish, by a negro from one of the first boats that 
 came alongside. ' Thunder and turf,' exclaimed Pat, 
 ' how long have you been here ?' Three months,' said 
 Quasliy. Three months! and so black alraady! 'Hanum 
 a diaoul," ' says Pat, thinking Quashy a ci-devant 
 countryman, ' I'll not stay among ye ' ; and in a few 
 hours the Connaughtman was on his return, with a 
 white skin to the emerald isle.' 
 
132 
 
 IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 LEGEND OF OSSHEEN, THE SON OF FIONN. 
 
 'Of all till' uumiroiiB illii Hint wnit ou ugt, 
 
 >V'ltatetuinp0 the wriukludeepvttt ou tlic brow? 
 To tiiiU cuch loved ony blotted from life'ti page, 
 And be aloue on enrtli, »» 1 nm now.* — ItYiiON. 
 When St. Tatrick was laboring to extend llie Cliris- 
 tian faith in Irohini), the Ii gend sajs that in his pcti- 
 grination he met n very aged man, whose gigantic 
 dimensions far exceeded the ordinary .stature of men 
 who lived in that age. He described himself to be 
 Os.sheen, the son of I'ionn Mac Cumlial, the famous 
 king or commander of the l''iann Eirion, the celebrated 
 domestic troops of the kingdom that lluurished in the 
 commencement of the third eentnry of the Christian 
 era. 
 
 These brave 'heroes of the western isle' had disap- 
 peared from the earth, and the fame of their extraordi- 
 nary prowess lived then, as now, in the traditionary 
 records of the lund. Ossheen aluno survisod the lapse 
 of ages, borne down by the weight of years, and the 
 melancholy memory of liy-gonc da\ s, among a strange 
 and degenerate race. lie had been conveyed to 'Tire- 
 nan-Oge, the clysium of the heathen Iri.sh, and on this 
 permitted return to earth, the gallant baud which he 
 left in all the pride of chivalry were gone, 
 'And of their name and race, 
 Left searce a token or a trace.' 
 The passage of Ossheen to the 'Country of the Im- 
 mortals,' and his return to earth, happened in the fol- 
 lowing manner. 
 
 The Fiana Eirion, which formed the national guard 
 to defend the land against foreign invasion or domes- 
 tic treachery, were, it is said, quartered on the people 
 during the winter season; but from May to November 
 they lived on their romantic hills, supported by the 
 produce of the chase. Lough Lene was a favorite 
 summer haunt, and often did the liunter's cry, and the 
 matchless speed of the tall Bran, force the mountain 
 deer to lave his panting breast in the waters of the 
 lake. The wild district by the banks of the western 
 Ariglin, in the county of Cork, where the writer of 
 this legend resides, bears testimony to the trace of their 
 footsteps. Dramscarla, or the partihg hill of heroes, 
 near that stream, is yet pointed out as the fort to 
 which Goal Mac Morna, the leader of the northern 
 troops retired, when he withdrew in anger from Fionn. 
 The troops were hunting in the last-mentioned dis- 
 trict in the harvest season, when they received intelli- 
 gence that a corn-field in the neighboahood of the 
 camp was on diti'erent nights much trodden down by 
 some unaccountable means; for though the field was 
 well minded, the perpetrator of the mischief remained 
 undiscovered. Many of the soldiers watched in vain, 
 and at last Ossheen, the son of Fionn, volunteered his 
 service. In the stillness of the night lie heard a rust- 
 ling in the corn, and by the light of the moon, he dis- 
 covered a beautiful white colt, without a spot. The 
 hero advanced, and the colt slowly retreated; but as 
 they approached the ditch, he bounded forward and 
 seized the animal by the mane, which floated in the 
 midnight breeze. 
 
 The alarmed colt fied with an eagle's speed, and 
 the pursuer perscveringly followed. The chase had 
 not continued long when the earth suddenly opened; 
 he held by the floating mane, and shortly after their 
 descent, he found himself in a fair, extensive country, 
 and the white colt, the object of hi.s pursuit, metamor- 
 phosed into a beautiful lady, whose yellow ringlets 
 were yet strained in his determined grasp; with an in- 
 eflfable smile, whose magic completely took away the 
 intention of returning, she welcomed hira to Tire-nan- 
 Oge; and the pleasures of the chase, and the society of 
 his brothers in war were things forgotten as if they had 
 never been. 
 
 When Ossheen had spent some time in the region of 
 immortal youth and unfailing spring, he felt strongly 
 inclined to visit the green land of liis birth, and regain 
 the society of his former friends. Upon intimating 
 this wish to the lady, she assured him that to seek the 
 Fian Eirion would be fruitless toil, for that race of 
 heroes bad long since disappeared from the earth. 
 'Ah!' taid he, 'why attempt to deceive me? Fionn, 
 
 the king of men — Oscar, my dhuntle.ss son — Uearmid, 
 of the eagle's speed — Conan,thc subtle — heroes whom 
 I left only twelve months since, arc not surely dead." 
 
 'You have already spent three hundred years here,' 
 said she, for the longest mea.sure of duration on earth 
 is but as n moment in our estimation ; yet if you are 
 determined to revisit your favorite haunts, you may 
 proceed; this horse will safely convey you to earth ; 
 but if you alight from his back during the journey, it 
 will preclude your return to this place,' and you will 
 find your youth and strength vanished, and yourself 
 laden with three centuries of years and infirmities.' 
 
 He departed, revisited the cloudy Mangerton, wind- 
 ed his course beneath the savage Turk, stretched his 
 view into the far prospect from romantic Clarah, and 
 roused the red deer of the Galtys, but in vain. No 
 long-remembered friend met his eye; the land was oc- 
 cupied by a feeble and diminutive rac- ; the very face 
 of nature was changed — rivers had abandoned their 
 ancient channels — deep vallies were level plains, and 
 the wavy forests became barren moors — he had not 
 known it as the land of his love, hud not the multi- 
 form hills, and the firm-set, everlasting mountains been 
 the unchangeable landmarks of hia memory to guide 
 him through the altered scene. 
 
 Filled with the deepest i-elancholy, he retraced his 
 foot-steps to Tire-nan-Oge; but as he came to the 
 bank of a deep river, he saw one of the degenerate 
 men of that time, vainly endeavoring to raise a sack 
 of corn which had slipped from his horse's back into 
 the middle of the stream. Ossheen hud not forgotten 
 his military oath, one clause of which bound the an- 
 cient Irish soldier to assist the distressed. He spurred 
 into the current, and endeavored without alighting to 
 raise the sack with his foot, but it remained unmoved. 
 Surprised that a weight so apparently light should 
 mock his efl'ort, he sprung into the water, when both 
 his horse and the treaeherous apparition disappeared, 
 leaving him a wretched and forlorn being, bent be- 
 neath a load of years. 
 
 'The Dialogue of Ossheen and Patrick' can tell the 
 difficulty that apostle had in converting the haughty 
 worshipper of Crom to the mild and humble doctrines 
 of the Christian religion. He became a member of 
 the saint's household, and when he lost his sight 
 through extreme old age, he had a .servant to conduct 
 his steps. It appears that Osshcen's appetite corres- 
 ponded with his stature, and that the saint's house- 
 keeper dealt his portion with a niggard hand, for when 
 the old man expostulated with her one day on the 
 scantiness of his repast, she bitterly replied, that his 
 large oat cake, bis quarter of beef, and miseawn of 
 butter, would suffice a better man. 
 
 'Ah,' said he, his memory adverting to the days of 
 his strength, I could yet show you an ivy leaf broader 
 than your cake, a berry of the quickheam larger than 
 your miseawn, and the leg of a blackbird that would 
 outweigh your quarter of beef.' 
 
 With that want of respect to the aged and desti- 
 tute which indicates the ill-tempered and rude of that 
 sex, she gave him the lie direct, but Ossheen remained 
 silent. 
 
 Some time after, Ossheen directed his attendant to 
 nail a raw hide against the wall, and to dash the pup- 
 pies of a bitch of the wolf-dog species that had lately 
 littered, against it. They in succession fell howling 
 and helpless to the gtound, except one, that clung 
 with tooth and nail in the hide. He was carefully 
 reared, and when he was full grown and vigorous, 
 Ossheen one day told his attendant to conduct him to 
 the plain of Kildare, and to lead the dog in a leash. 
 As they went along, Ossheen at a certain place asked 
 his guide if he beheld anything deserving of particular 
 notice; and be replied that he saw a monstrous plant 
 resembling ivy, that projected from a rock, and almost 
 hid the light of the sun, and also a largo tree which 
 bore a red fruit of enormous bulk. Ossheen carried 
 away the leaf and the fruit. They shortly reached the 
 plain of Kildare, and he again demanded whether any 
 strange object met the servant's attention. 
 
 'Yes,' said the other, 'I perceive a dallan of extraor- 
 dinary size.' 
 
 He then desired to be led to the stone, and after re- 
 moving it from its place with one giant (ffort, he took 
 from the cavity beneath, a Cran-tubal, or sling, a ball, 
 and nn ancient trumpet. Silting on the upturned 
 dallan, he blew the musical instrument. The loud 
 blast seemed to pierce the concave .sky, and though 
 the sound appeared to sweep the earth, it was sweet 
 and harmonious. After the lapse of some hours, the 
 blind musician inquired if his attendaet beheld any 
 thing uncommon. 
 
 'I perceive,' said he, 'a flight of birds advancing 
 from every quarter of the heavens, and alighting on the 
 plain before us.' 
 
 He continued the magic strain, when his attendant 
 exclaimed that a monstrous bird, the thadow of whose 
 bulk darkened the field, was approaching. 
 
 'That is the object of our expectation,' said Os- 
 sheen, 'let slip the dog as that bird alights.' 
 
 The wolf-dog bounded wiib open jaws to the fight, 
 and the bird received his attack wiih matchless force. 
 The thrilling blasts of the truni|iet seemed to inspire 
 the combatants with renewed rage; they fought all 
 day, and at the going down of the sun the victorious 
 wolf dog drank the life of his prostrate foe. 
 
 'The bird is dead,' said the aft'righted servant, 'and 
 the dog, bathed in blood, is approaching to devour 
 us.' 
 
 'Direct my aim,' said the hero, 'towards the dog.' 
 
 Then launching the ball from the cran-tubal, it ar- 
 rested the rapid progress of the savage animal, and 
 felled him lifeless to the earth. 
 
 The leaf, the berry, and the leg of this amazing 
 blackbird, were the spoila optima he produced to the 
 housekeeper in proof of his veracity. This was the 
 expiring eftbrt of the warrior bard, for the legend re- 
 cords, that indignation at this woman's insulting lan- 
 guage shortly afterwards broke his heart. 
 
 Such is the legend of Ossheen, the son of Fionn, 
 and which, in some of the more distant districts of Ire- 
 land, is handed down from father to son, as being 
 the true history of this last of the noble race to whom 
 it alludes. 
 
 The Wind and the Weather. — Nothing is 
 more difficult than to form any tolerable theory as to 
 weather or wind, and yet it is a most amusing specu- 
 lation. In Ireland the wind generally does half the 
 duty of the sun; it dries the ground, and saves the 
 harvest ; without it the country would be scarcely habit- 
 able — fanned by the zephprs, we have the winters of 
 Italy and the summers of Tempe. Other countries i n 
 our laiitude are perished in .spring and early summer, 
 by cast and north winds, caused by the melting of the 
 snows on the continent, or the rurificution of the air at 
 the Eciuator. This we seldom experience to any in- 
 convenient degree. The Sirocco sometimes visits us 
 
 the Bise very rarely. It is true that our zephyrs are J 
 
 not always of the mildest — when the condensed vapors I 
 of the Atlantic are precipitated on the Emerald Isle, j 
 there is a pressure of the atmosphere, and a disen- j 
 gagement of air, that often threatens to sweep all be- 1 
 fore it. 
 
 Young trees thrive better in Ireland than in any 
 other country; but when there is not great shelter, 
 they cannot grow large — the oak is twisted, the larch i 
 bent, the fir and the elm blown down; yet formerly [ 
 Ireland was celebrated for fine timber— so she may be i 
 again, if planted largely and in masses. This is not 
 a country for screens and clumps— she wants woods. 
 The best ))laces to plant, are the east and north sides 
 of hills, in general the most sterile, though most shcl- . 
 tered part; on the plain the tree is exposed to every 
 blast, on the hill-side to but one. If all tenants were 
 obliged to plant a few acres to the west of their farms, 
 (perhaps ten per hundred,) it would give ornament, 
 shelter and fire wood. The best timber for Ireland are 
 oak, ash, larch, birch, Canada poplar, timber sally, and 
 the common Norway pine. 
 
 What is that which increases the effect by diminish- 
 ing the cause 1 A pair of snuffers. 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 133 
 
 RAMBLES IN THE COUNTY OF MEATH — THE 
 RUINS OF NEWTOWN. 
 
 At a short ilistiinfo from the well-known Yellow 
 Stci'jilc of Trim, on swelling hanks wilhin a {jlorious 
 sweep of that ' darling of iho ocean,' the Buyne, on 
 both sides of wliich they extend, are the extensive re- 
 mains of the religious foundations of Newtown, the 
 principal of which are the monastery, «vith its custom- 
 ary appendages, and the ruins of the cathedral of St. 
 Veter and St. Paul. It was tounded in the year 1206, 
 by Simon de Rochfort, the first English prelate who 
 assumed the title of Bishop of Mi.ath, removing the 
 episcopal chair from Clonard, the cathedral church of 
 his Irish predecessors in the see, to the new structure 
 at Newtown, which he designed as an Abbey of Canons 
 Regular of the Order of St. Victor. About this period, 
 this haughty churchman appears to have possessed al- 
 most unbounded sway over the broad plains of Meaih, 
 and to have enjoyed the confidence and support of the 
 powerful De Lacys. He abolished several of the minor 
 bishoprics, and had himself erected sole Bishop of 
 Meath, under which title he and his successors sat next 
 in rank to the Archbishop, as lords spiritual in the Irish 
 Parliament. 
 
 The Cathedral of St. Peter and St. Paul is one of 
 the most elegant structures amongst the remains of 
 the monastic establishments to be encountered in all 
 directions about Trim, and it is said one of the very 
 earliest specimens of the light-pointed Gothic in the 
 kingdom. The portions of the southern wall, and of 
 the eastern and western ends, which still remain, are 
 luxuriously mantled with ivy, particularly the eastern 
 window, which now lies open to the ground, and is 
 some fifty feet in height. In the walls of a small par 
 ish church adjoining is the sculptured tomb of one of 
 the mitred ecclesiastics, besides portions of exquisitely 
 carved imposts, capitals, mouldings, and other frag- 
 ments of the abbey. 
 
 In the front of the chapel are the remains of the 
 splendid tomb erected to the memory of Sir Lucas Dil- 
 lon, an able jurist, and Chief Baron of the Exchequer, 
 in the reign of Elizabeth. It is an altar tomb, with 
 the recumbent figures of the knight and his wife, Jane 
 Bath, and inscribed with the armorial bearings of the 
 Dillons, Baths, and Barnewalls, and with a shield hav- 
 ing two bends. 
 
 Sir Robert Dillon, father of Sir Lucas, was Attorney 
 General to Henry VIII., and, at the dissolution of 
 the monasteries, received from that monarch a grant 
 of the lands of Newtown, where his brother Thomas 
 was prior in the year 1511. In 1568 Sir Lucas had a 
 further grant of the Abbey of the Virgin Mary in Trim, 
 and of the towns of Canonstown, Grange of Trim, 
 Ladyrath and Rathnally. Ho was the ancestor of the 
 Earls of Roscommon. The inscription, which is now 
 illegible, is thus given by Lodge : — 
 
 Militis hie Lucce Dillonis ossa quiescunt, 
 Concitiis Kegni Summus, Baroq supremus 
 MCDse Februarii deciraus cum septraus instat, 
 Tempora lustrali profusue tlumine clausit, 
 Terrenos lin<juens ccelestes surapsit honores. 
 
 A portion of the adjoining ground is still used as a 
 graveyard, and it is to be regretted that fragments of 
 the ancient sculpture of the Abbey are so frequently 
 employed as head-stones by the peasantry. 
 
 A synod was appointed in Newtown in 1216, and, in 
 1485, one of its priors, Thomas Sctirlock, was appoint- 
 ed Treasurer of Ireland. Two years later its prior, 
 who, like those of his brethren at Trim, was implicated 
 in the rebellion of Lambert Simnel, received the royal 
 pardon. The last prior was Laurence White, who sur- 
 rendered the priory and its possessions in .lune, 151.'1, 
 and three years afterwards the house was finally sup- 
 pressed by Parliament, and granted to Henry VIII., 
 wlien the establishment was found to consist of ' a 
 church, two towers, a hall, store-house, kitchen, l)rew- 
 bouse, two granaries, a pigeon-house, and liaggart ; 
 also of four messuages, twenty, acres of aral)le land, 
 being part of the said demesne, on the north side of 
 the Boyne, and the close containing an acre of pasture, 
 with three gardens in Newton — annual value, besides 
 reprisal, one hundred and one shillings and fourpence'; 
 in addition to 550 acres of the first land in Meath, a 
 
 NEWTOAVN CHURCH. 
 
 eastle, several villages, gardens and messuages scatter- 
 ed through the adjoining country. This, therefore, 
 must have been one of the richest monastic establish- 
 ments in Ireland. 
 
 Immediately adjoining the bridge, on the southern 
 side of the river, are the remains of a massive square 
 keep, with square towers at two of its angles. From 
 it a regular range of buildings e.Ktends somewhat lower 
 down to the river, along the water's edge, to a smaller 
 tower, near which is the eastern gable of a small chapel 
 with a fine triple window. At a short distance by the 
 roadside is a light circular turret, which probably 
 commanded the gate, as it did one of the approaches 
 to Trim. Within the walls of this extensive enclosure 
 are also the remains of the Hospital or Priory of St. 
 John the Baptist, of the thirteenth century, for friars of 
 the order of Couched Friars, or Cross-bearers, and to 
 which the Bishops of Meath were great benefactors. 
 This fraternity wore a cross embroidered on their 
 habits, and devoted themselves to tl. e redemption of 
 Christian captives. — [Irish Lit. Gazette. 
 
 THE MISERIES OF AUTHORSHIP. 
 
 An author by profession may always be known by 
 certain outward, unquestionable appearances of pov- 
 erty, which are sure indications of genius and a total 
 disregard for decency. His exalted pursuits elevate 
 him above the paltry considerations of cleanliness ; the 
 luxury of a change of linen, or the perplexing extrav- 
 agance of two coats, would only distract his attention 
 from h.s literary pursuits, or frighten his bookseller 
 out of all recollection of his person. His face should 
 resemble a dried mummy, and his eye be sunk deep in 
 the socket, like the wick of an expiring parish lamp ; 
 the skinny exterior of his upper lip should be well 
 covered with snuft", and his teeth give proofs of his at- 
 tachment to a social pipe ; his hat should be of the 
 fashion of his boyish days, pinched into a thousand ec- 
 centric forms, by way of amusement, while wailing in 
 anxious expectation of a great man's notice, or a book- 
 seller's liberality; his boots should be waterproof — i. e. 
 one hole to let the water in, and another to let it out — 
 his pocket-handkerchief (if he does not use the sleeve 
 of his coat^ should have more holes than the French 
 admiral's flag at the battle of the Nile, and must on 
 no account be washed above once in six mouths, for 
 fear of wearing it out. In his carriage, he should pre- 
 serve a gentle bend, by way of reducing his altitude to 
 the level of common-place understandings. Ho should 
 be exceedingly cautious how he frowns, lest it should 
 be misconstrued into contempt ; nor can he be too 
 particular in the iudulgment of a laugh, lest it should 
 be taken for derision. He may accept any invitation 
 to dinner, and is never expected to return the compli- 
 ment ; nay, he may pop into any family, where he has 
 the least footing, without hesitation, and take pot-luck, 
 and charity prescribes the necessity of their pressing 
 him to stay. 
 
 He must always be ready with a good joke, cut and 
 dried, to suit the hnmor of his company, to defend his 
 host with, or amuse the family party. Everything he 
 says will be sure of applause, as coming from an author, 
 and, above all, he must endeavor to be egotistical. If 
 he should lack wit, and be without conversational tal- 
 ents (no unusual thing for a modern to want), he need 
 not be uneasy, if he can only manage to pass for an 
 eccentric, and then his excessive stupidity will be plac- 
 ed to the account of his deep study and total abstrac- 
 tion. He should, on no account, shave more than 
 once a week, because a long beard may be considered 
 a mark of singularity inseparable from original genius. 
 He must never think of paying his debts ; first, because 
 such a practice is wholly unprecedented, and would 
 ruin the whole profession by example ; secondly, be- 
 cause, if any one has trusted him, he maybe sure they 
 did so from motives of charity and without hope of 
 payment ; or, thirdly, if any one has been mad enough 
 to indulge in such a chimerical expectation, his folly 
 deserves correction. His residence should be in the 
 attic of some old-fashioned building, where, in times 
 past, a clebrated poet was starved to death, or some 
 distinguished literary character has since committed 
 suicide. His furniture should be a truckle-bedstead, 
 with a flock mattrass, and an old great coat for a cov- 
 erlid ; his couch or settee formed by the side or end of 
 it; his box, for if he has no wardrobe to fill it with, he 
 still should have a box, to give him consequence with 
 his landlady, and serve the double purpose of shutting 
 out prying curiosity from his papers, and forming a 
 writing-desk by his bedside. In writing he should be 
 ambidex'rous, and, in catching an idea or a passing 
 thought, jump instantly out of bed and commit the 
 subject to paper on the inspiration of the moment. If 
 he ever is imprisoned for debt, he should attribute such 
 an occurrence not to any wild hope of enforcing pay- 
 ment, but merely as a friendly act, done in the idea 
 that seclusion from the world may correct his idleness, 
 better his fortune, and afford him at once the oppor- 
 tunity and incitement to pursue his labors. If he has 
 not tasted of all these, and ten times more miseries 
 than arc here related, then he is no true author. 
 
 There are a set of dull, heavy, leaden-headed college 
 mechanics, who, having served an apprenticeship to the 
 art of translating the classic languages, as lliey are 
 called, lard their conversation with a succession of mis- 
 placed quotations, in monkish Greek or Latin, in the 
 hope of passing for authors. Now, be it known, we 
 utterly reject any such pedantic persons, and any such 
 claims to the rights and privileges of genius, or the de- 
 lightful sensations of the miseries of authorship. 
 
 Look upon a field of corn. The ears which lift their 
 heads the highast have the least in them. It is the 
 same with men. Be assured that the heads of those 
 who are most elated by vanity have the least judg- 
 ment, merit, or capacity. 
 
134 
 
 IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 THE MURDERED 1 RAVELLER. 
 
 AN INCIDENT ON THK BC'CTUERN IIOAP, 
 
 ' Hallo, wniter,' 
 
 •Coming, 8ir.' 
 ' Ha» my horse been fid r' 
 ' lie has just had his oats, sir.' 
 ' Did you sec that his near hind shoe was secured, 
 as I desired f' 
 
 'All is right, sir ; the smith is only this moment 
 gone.' 
 
 ' Well, my good fellow, please to have him sad- 
 dled and brought round in about half on hour ; in 
 the meantime, you may amuse yourself by making 
 out my bill.' 
 
 Tlie servitor vanished, and the gentleman was left 
 alone in his meditations and a pint of port. Ue was 
 evidently an old and experienced traveller, well 
 appointed in all respects for tBe road ; he was a 
 Btout built, well-fed Englishman, exhibiting that 
 thoughtful and practical expression of countenance 
 •which so much characterises the man of business 
 in Egnland. lie had already travelled twenty 
 Irish miles, and nearly the same number yet inter- 
 Tcned between where he then was and the village at 
 which he purposed to put up for the night. He had 
 not been long in Ireland, and the tales he had read 
 and heard repeated (too often grossly exaggerated) 
 of pikes sixteen feet long, of houghings, burnings, 
 and other aboriginal amusements, had not conveyed 
 an over favorable impression regarding the country 
 he had undertaken to journey through. Evening 
 was fast closing in ; and when from the window he 
 looked on the wide black bog through which his 
 road lay, presenting as it did, after a heavy day's 
 wet in November, a dismal contrast to the level sur- 
 face of the English ' turnpike road," and then turned 
 alternately to the pleasant turf fire which glowed 
 upon the hearth, and to the fine old wine that 
 sparkled seductively in his glass, he sighed at the 
 thought of resigning the comforts which these con- 
 ferred, for the cheerless misery which that presented. 
 He was not a man, however, to be easily depressed ; 
 so finishing his port, and ordering a few more sods 
 to the tire, he mixed, by way of a finisher, a fiery 
 tumbler, strongly impregnated with the ' spirit of 
 the mountain.' He then turned his huge 'Peter- 
 sham ' so as to acquire more of the genial influence 
 of the blazing turf, and proceeded to examine his 
 arms. These consisted of a case of pistols splendidly 
 mounted, fcather-springed, and detonating. Having 
 perfectly satisfied himself that no tricks had been 
 played with their charges, he placed them carefully 
 in the two breast-pockets of his great coat, situated 
 inside the lining, so as to protect them alike from 
 damp and prying observation. With such compan- 
 ions, he thought himself capable to face Collier or 
 even Captain Rock himself, should either venture to 
 oppose him. The waiter now entered, and announc- 
 ed that his horse was ready ; so, settling his bill, he 
 arose, and tying a silk handkerchief around his 
 throat, and pulling on his large 'fearnought,' he 
 mounted his horse, a fine strong animal, who an- 
 swered his rider's caress by a spirited neighing ; 
 then, placing in his mouth a lighted cigar, and slip- 
 ping a 'douceur' into the ready hand of the officious 
 hostler, who, in rather a mysterious tone, wished 
 him ' safe journey," the traveller rode off. 
 
 The night was becoming pitchy dark, and the 
 rain, driven full in his teeth by a biting gust, was 
 falling fast ; but his horse, which possessed great 
 strength and action, having been well refreshed, 
 bore him gallantly ; and, after nn hour's good 
 going, he calculated upon having distanced the inn 
 eight or nine mUes. As he advanced, however, ihe 
 road became more hilly, broken, and difficult, and 
 was in some places so narrow that he was in danger 
 
 roads crossed, and seeing a light in a miserable | held the reins tightly, and prepared for the attack 
 
 hovel, which was situated in a small field, a little 
 from the wayside, he «ecured his liorse to a tree, 
 and advanced towards it, in order to ascertain his 
 way correctly. His path, though short, like some 
 passages in music, he found very difficult to get 
 through. He had sunk kncc-dcep in the mire, and 
 on att<'mpting to cross a trench, fell into a jjocil of 
 green and stagnant water, scrambling out of which, 
 he straightway found himself in eonpany of aporth- 
 animal, ' epicuri degrege porcum," who, with her 
 infant progeny, had been enjoying a profound re- 
 pose. The noise occasioned by his unceremonious 
 entree seemed to cause great alarm in the hovel ; 
 the rushlight which had gleamed from the four- 
 paned window (three of straw and one of glass,) 
 was instantly extinguished, and a loud and boister- 
 ous chorus became hushed in silence. Having made 
 good his entrance, he found himself in a small 
 earth-floored room, furnished with a deal table, 
 flanked by low forms of the same material ; at the 
 head of the table sat three men, dressed in dark 
 freize coats, all busily employed in inflicting sum- 
 mary justice upon a coarse cheese of home manu- 
 facture, and oaten bread, while occasionally they 
 made acquaintance with a large black bottle, whose 
 contents appeared somewhat more calorific than 
 ' blessed water from the spring.' At the lower end 
 of the table sat the mistress of the establishment, 
 and four ragged half-starved children, engaged at 
 their vesper-time meal, composed of that root which 
 Malthus vituperates, and Sadler praises. 
 
 Our friend ^having procured the necessary infor- 
 mation, requested the assistance of one of the 
 youngsters, to guide him through the difficulties of 
 the way. While he was speaking, he observed that 
 one of the freize-coated personages, a pale, thin, 
 determined looking man, was eyeing him most 
 serutinizingly. Accompanied by the boy, the trav- 
 eller took his departure — previously, however, re- 
 questing the company to feel no uneasiness from his 
 visit, for he was neither a spy nor a still-hunter, a 
 proctor nor a process-server on a professional tour. 
 As he left the room, he noticed that the opposite 
 apartment was used for a stable, and contained 
 three horses ready saddled in their stalls. Having 
 passed the most difficult part of the road — 
 
 ' Good night, my tine little fellow,' said the trav- 
 eller, ' you have conducted me safely, and here is 
 a shilling for your trouble.' 
 
 The boy closed his band fast upon the coin, and, 
 running home, enterc'd the room, exclaimed 'moth- 
 er, mother, look what the gintleman sint you — a 
 white shillin' !' 
 
 ' A shillin', you gossoon !' said the woman, hold- 
 ing it up to the light ; ' for a shillin' it's mighty 
 heavy an' yellow intirely.' 
 
 'You 'omadhawn !' isn't it a 'suvrin' — a rael gool- 
 den one,' shouted the pale man, as rising he snatch- 
 ed it from her, and, in his impatience, struck with a 
 hazel switch his astonished companions. ' lllood 
 an' fire, boys,' he continued, ' what are yees at ? 
 Don't yees see the gintleman is gone, that threw 
 away his suvrins as if they were fardins, an' carries 
 no smaller change than yallow goold. What a beau- 
 tiful ' dish of throut ' we let slip through our fin- 
 gers,' and he bit his lips in vexation. 
 
 ' It's not too late yet,' said one of his comrades ; 
 ' an a canther will do us no harm.' 
 
 ' Thrue for you, 'a bouchal ;' so I'll just fresh 
 prime the poppers, an' be with the yees in no time. 
 Whelan, bring out the 'uorses.' 
 
 In two minutes the robbers were in fall chase. 
 Through the {stillness of the night air, the hurried 
 tramp soon reached the ears of the pursued. 
 
 'There is no use in flying th;m,' thought he, as 
 of being swamped in the deep drains which ran par- j the terrible suspicion burst upon his mind ; ' they 
 allel on either side, and he was therefore obliged to are fresh, and I am weary ; I will therefore await 
 dismount and lead his horse by the bridle. Having | them, and prepare for the worst.' He then took 
 proceeded a little further on, he came to where four I ouv a pistol, cocked it, and drawing up his horse. 
 
 -1 
 
 the attack f 
 
 They were now up with him. 
 
 ' Ha, the three of them !' exclaimed he, as turn- 
 ing an angle of the road, they broke upon his view. 
 'The long odds are against me, but the knowing 
 ones may be taken in.' 
 
 ' Stop, stop !' shouted two of the villains, riding 
 furiously up, and hailing one at each side of him, 
 while the third held back in the rear. 
 
 ' Who dares stop me ? Cowards, stand off!' ex- 
 claimed the traveller, sternly. 
 
 ' He aisy now, my darlind,' said ihe pale-faced 
 ruffian, ' an' ive'U be civil to you,' — and at the 
 same time, both, the robbers were covering him with 
 their short carbines — ' we only want whatever loose 
 cash you may happen to have about you ; an' to 
 save both of us trouble an' uneasiness, give it 
 dacently.' 
 
 A shot from the traveller cut short his harangue ; 
 and the robber's horse, startled by the report, 
 broke away, leaving his rider dead upon the ground. 
 ' Oh, ye murtherin' thief,' roared one of the re- 
 maining assailants, 'you've kilt my brother; but 
 it'll be the dearest shot you ever fired ;' and as the 
 echo of the traveller's pistol died away, a ball from 
 the carbine passed through its victim's back. The 
 gentleman reeled, but fell not, and, with instinctive 
 courage, wheeling round his horse, sprung the bay- 
 onet of his discharged weapon, and, with all theen- 
 ergy of coming death, stabbed his tlayer to the 
 heart. They fell together to the earth, gory and 
 lifeless. 
 
 Early next morning, the mhabitants of the village 
 
 of B were surprised at the appearance of a 
 
 horse straying through the street, with a broken 
 bridle, and saddle stained with blood. The alarm 
 spread, and search being made, the bodies were 
 found lying as they fell— the clothes of one of them 
 torn, and his pockets rifled. None of them could 
 be recognized ; they were all strangers in that part 
 of the country. The requisite forms of the laws 
 were complied with, and after the inquest, the re- 
 mains of the unfortunate gentlemen were decently 
 committed to the earth. A case of handsome pis- 
 tols were found on the fatal spot, which were 
 deposited with the sheriff of the county — sole memo- 
 rials of the dead. Time rolled on, and mystery 
 dwelt upon the matter — until even thememoiy of 
 the dead had well nigh passed away. 
 
 About seven years afterwards, however, a man 
 having been condemned to suffer the extreme pen- 
 alty of the law, in the assize to-An of T , sent 
 
 for the governor of the gaol, the night before execu- 
 tion, and.presented him with a small copy of ' Fal- 
 coner's Shipwreck," as a memorial of the scene of 
 the kindness he had experienced from him ; but he 
 made no confession whatever. In a blank leaf were 
 the initials, ' W. H,' which were found to corres- 
 pond with those engraved on the pistols that had 
 belonged to the murdered traveller. 
 
 Anecdotp: of Strongbow and His Son. — When 
 Stroiigbow was marching to Wexford, through the 
 barony of Idrone, to relieve Fitzstephcn, he was brisk- 
 ly assaulicJ by O'Rian and his followers; but O'Rian 
 licing slain by an arrow, shot at him by Nichol, the 
 monk, the rest were easily scattered, and many of 
 them slain. It was here that Strongbow's only son, a 
 youth about seventeen year's old, frighted with the 
 nnmbers and ululalions of the Irish, ran away from 
 the battle, and made towards Dublin ; but being in- 
 formed of his father's victory, he joyfully came back 
 to congratulate him. The severe general, however, 
 having first reproached him with cowardice, caused 
 him to be immediately executed, by cutting him off 
 in the middle with a sword. So great an abhorrence 
 had they of distardiness in those days that, in imita- 
 tion of the Romans, they punished it with a severity 
 which, how commendable soever it may be in a gene- 
 ral, was nevertheless unnatural in a father. 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 135 
 
 SOMNAMBULISM. 
 
 Wo have many striking instances that the mental 
 faculties are by no means torp.d during the tinid of 
 sleep; but in the following circumstances, fully au- 
 thenticated, there is ample proof that the powers of 
 the mind may, at that period, sustain greater labor 
 than during our waking moments. The subject is 
 one well-deserving of attention, both in a medical 
 and a philosophical point of view. Some time 
 since, John Buckridge, son of a wealthy and re- 
 spectable farmer, residing near Leeds, in Yorkshire, 
 was placed at a grammar-school, within a few miles 
 of that town, kept by the Rev. Mr. Dunne. 
 
 Young Buckridge, who was e^i-tered as a boarder, 
 displayed very little inclination for learning during 
 the first month of his probation; he talked inces- 
 santly of the plough and harrow, the dairy and the 
 farm-yard, and wished often and heartily that he 
 was amongst them, and free from the tedious and 
 disagreeable task of poring over books, the contents 
 of which he neither knew nor seemed to wish to 
 know. He thought 
 
 *Where ignorance is bliss, 
 'Tis folly to be wise.' 
 
 However, the principal of the establishment neg- 
 lected no means to endeavor to call forth whatever 
 share of intellect the boy might have; still he 
 evinced no thirst for improvement, and his retentive 
 faculties being extremely defective, he seldom re- 
 membered in the morning any part of the lesson 
 committed to keeping on the preceding evening. 
 In this manner the boy continued to plod on weari- 
 ly with his studies, until the expiration of another 
 month, when a visible change was remarked in the 
 manner that he performed the various school busi- 
 ness allotted to him; he that before was only re- 
 markable for dullness and stupidity, became the 
 most correct and generally perfect student in the 
 entire academy; but the cause of this most singular 
 change still remained a mystery. 
 
 During the usual hours for business he was, as 
 before, listless and inattentive — neither did he relax 
 in his accustomed amusements, so that he did not 
 seem to devote one hour more to study. It hap- 
 pened, however, that one of the ushers, who occu- 
 pied an apartment contiguous to the school-room, 
 hearing a noise in the passage, betwi.\t the hours of 
 twelve and one, when the family had all retired to 
 rest, was induced to watch, on the supposition that 
 thieves might have broken into the house. On 
 partly opening his door, all was dark and silent; 
 but in a few minutes after, young Buckridge as- 
 cended from the kitchen with a lamp alight in his 
 hand, which he had brought from thence. 
 
 The usher's fears now gave way to curiosity, and 
 be determined to watch the movements of the boy, 
 who was evidently enjoying a profound sleep. 
 Buckridge passed on with a rapid, though cautious 
 step, to the door of the school-room, which he 
 unlocked, and proceeded directly to the place that 
 he generally occupied, opened a desk in which his 
 books were deposited, took them out, and arranged 
 them in due order before him, and instanly fell to 
 study. 
 
 The extremely astonished usher, imagining that 
 it might have been a trick of the boy's, shook and 
 pinched him repeatedly, but to no purpose; he 
 seemed insensible to everything, save only the pur- 
 suit of learning, and after having successfully pe- 
 rused the different lessons marked for his business 
 on the following morning, he arose from the seat, 
 and repeated them at the principal's desk, as if he 
 had been there for examination, in the most perfect 
 and satisfactory manner. 
 
 The usher having faithfully reported this singular 
 discovery, Mr. D. resolved to watch the following 
 night, and be enabled to question the lad; he 
 accordingly did so, and about the same hour 
 as on the preceding night, young Buckridge 
 arose from his bed, and went through the same 
 
 ceremony, with the addition of writing his English 
 exercises, which were not included in the business 
 of the former day. Having completed this impor- 
 tant affair, he proceeded as before to Mr. Dunne's 
 desk, where that gentleman now really stood, to- 
 gether with the usher, and here he repeated in reg- 
 ular succession his various lessons, replied to many 
 questions put to him by Mr. D., and finally, hav- 
 ing delivered in his e.xercises for examination, re- 
 turned to the kitchen with the lamp, which he care- 
 fully extinguished, and went back to bed. Being 
 closely questioned, in the morning, as to how he 
 had become so perfect in his school business, he 
 could not assign any reason whatever for his being 
 so, and declared that it surprised himself. One 
 thing is certain, that the sleep was by no means 
 counterfeit, the lad knew nothing of it, but almost 
 invariably quitted his bed at the same hour, and 
 went through his school business with the same un- 
 remitting regularity. 
 
 On this subject a writer in the ' Medical Adviser ' 
 gives it as his opinion, that although the brain, dur- 
 ing sleep, performs no functions of reason or instinct, 
 yet the pressure occasioned by the passing of the 
 blood through it, while in that state, produces sen- 
 sations that agitate in a confused manner the 
 shadows of those realities which it has been accus- 
 tomed to bear. It is a recurrence of the sensorium 
 to those actions of thought to which it has been 
 familiar, unmixed with, and unregulated by any 
 impressions from the external senses. It is common 
 to see people move their lips, tongue, and limbs 
 during sleep. The same cause moves the sleep- 
 walker to the various actions which he performs ; 
 and somnambulation is only a dream of more extend- 
 ed power than others. There has been no effectual 
 remedy against this unpleasant and dangerous af- 
 fection. In many instances, terror properly regu- 
 lated during the action of sleep-walking might be 
 
 cd to be haunted. A friend having been on a vif it 
 at the house, the conversation turned upon the cir- 
 cumstance of the haunted apartment, when the guest, 
 who was a young man not to be frightened by a 
 ghost, proposed to sleep in it. This was acceded to, 
 and he retired to the ' abode of horrors,' amidst the 
 prayers and pity of the wondering domestics. — 
 About one o'clock, while he was yet sitting at the 
 table reading, the door was opened, and a female, 
 in a long white robe, entered. The figuT<? proceeded 
 to different parts of the room, and at length sat down 
 to an old spinette, and played some pretty airs. 
 The young man now perceived it was no ghost, but 
 'bona fide' his host's daughter. He approached her 
 to applaud her performance, and the lady having 
 stood up, took her hand to conduct her to the door, 
 when she awakened, and perceiving her situation, 
 retired almost overcome with terror. This adven- 
 ture completely cured her. We would recommend, 
 in cases of sleep-walking, to seize the arms sudden- 
 ly, and halloo in thee ears until the sleeper awake, 
 or the application of a jug of cold water, by pouring 
 it suddenly upon the head. In this latter case, how- 
 ever, care should be taken to have the body well 
 rubbed with dry towels alter the operation. 
 
 A Truly Brave Man. — When the American 
 army was at Valley Forge, in the winter of 1777, a 
 Captain of the Virginia Line refused a challenge 
 sent him by his brother officer, alleging that his life 
 was devoted to the service of his country, and that 
 he did not think it a point of duty to risk it, to 
 gratify the caprice of any man. His antagonist 
 gave him the character of a coward throughout the 
 whole army. Conscious of not having merited the 
 aspersion, and discovering the injury he should sus- 
 tain in the minds of those unacquainted with him, 
 he repaired one evening to a general meeting of the 
 
 officers of that line. On his entrance, he was avoid- 
 tried with benefit on persons who are not very ner- ed by the company, and the officer who had chal- 
 
 vous or delicate. The following cases may serve to 
 strengthen this opinion. 
 
 Edward Harding, a student of Trinity College, 
 Dublin, who inhabited an attic in the left wing of 
 the University, was in the habit of walking upon 
 the roof in his sleep. One night, having taken a 
 relation, who was locked out, to sleep with him, 
 they had not been in bed more than two hours, 
 when the latter saw him deliberately get up, put on 
 his clothes, strike a light, and sit down, apparently 
 to study. This, however, did not surprise him, as 
 he thought his friend was preparing for the ap- 
 proaching examinations. In a few moments he ob- 
 served him opening the window, and immediately 
 proceeding to walk out of it upon the roof. Kecol- 
 lecting that his friend had the habit of of sleep- 
 walking, he pursued him cautiously. The day was 
 just dawning, and he could see him distinctly walk- 
 ing along the parapet with destruction within an 
 inch of him. Actuated with strong fear for his 
 triend's safety, he proceeded in the gutter of the 
 roof, until he came behind Mr. Harding, who now 
 stood at the extreme end of the building, and seem- 
 ed to look upon the distant earth with the greatest 
 'sang froid,' and, seizing him suddenly by the arm, 
 pulled him upon him into the gutter, there holding 
 him by force, notwithstanding his violent exertions 
 to disengage himself, until at length he became 
 quite awake and sensible of his perilous situation. 
 He never afterwards walked in his sleep, although 
 he used to get out of bed at night, and mope about 
 for a moment or two ; but he would wake in the 
 greatest terror, which, however, soon dissipated, 
 and he rested well the remainder of the night. 
 
 A lady in Scotland is said to have been cured by 
 a similar effect. She was the daughter of a gentle- 
 man who inhabited an old romantic house in Dum- 
 fries-shire, and sundry strange noises, music, &c., 
 having been heard by himself and his domestics 
 about midnight, in a certain room, it was consider- 
 
 lenged him insolently ordered him to leave the 
 room — a request which was loudly re-echoed from 
 all parts. He refused, and asserted that he came 
 there to vindicate his fame ; and after mentioning 
 the reasons which induced him not to accept the 
 challenge, he applied a large hand grenade to the 
 candle, and when the fuse had caught fire, threw it 
 on the floor, saying, ' here, gentlemen, this will 
 quickly determine which of us will dare brave dan- 
 gers most.' At first, they stared upon him for a 
 moment with stupid astonishment, but their eyes 
 soon fell upon the fuse of the grenade, which was 
 fast burning down. Away scampered colonel, gen- 
 eral, ensign, and captain, and all made a rush at 
 the door, simultaneous and confused. Some fell, 
 and others made way over the bodies of their com- 
 rades ; some succeeded in getting out, but for the 
 instant there was a general heap of flesh sprawling 
 at the entrance of the department. Here was a col- 
 onel jostling with a subaltern, and their fat generals 
 pressing lean lieutenants into the boards, and blus- 
 tering majors and squeaking ensigns wrestling for 
 exit, the size of the one and the feebleness of the 
 other making their chance of departure pretty equal, 
 until time, which does all things, at last cleared the 
 room, and left the noble captain standing over the 
 grenade with his arms folded, and his countenance 
 expressing every kind of scorn and contempt for the 
 train of scrambling red-coats, as they toiled and 
 bustled and bored their way out of the door. After 
 the explosion had taken place, some of them ven- 
 tured to return, to take a peep at the mangled re- 
 mains of their comrade, whom, however, they found 
 alive and uninjured. When they were all gone, the 
 captain threw himself on the floor as tlie only possi- 
 ble means of escape, and fortunately came off with 
 a whole skin and repaired reputation. 
 
 A governess, advertising (or a situation Bays 'she is 
 perfect mistress of her own tongue.' 
 
136 
 
 IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 
 
 ROSSTREVOR. 
 
 The Villagk of Rosstrevor, far famed for its I handsome cut-stone ohelisk, standing on a very prom- 1 other witnesses besides himself. One or two ncighbonj 
 bcaulifnl and romantic scenery, and fine strand for inent situntion, npon a base which forms a number of i were called up, and the keys of the churchyard procured 
 bathers, is situated about seven miles from the town of steps, composed of the same material. On the four ] after some delay. There burned the light still, and 
 
 fides the various fngagements in wliicti the gallant I thoujrh their eyes were anxiously tixed upon it a.s the 
 
 Newry, in a little cove formed in the northern side of 
 the widely extended bay, which Is completely open in 
 front to the waters of the Irish Sea, and is truly a rural 
 retreat ; lying at the foot of a beautiful romantic 
 mountain of the same name, which is closely covered 
 with full-grown oaks, and other trees of dift'erent 
 heights and hues, and which forms a part of that ex- 
 tensive range of mountains which stretch along the 
 shores of Moumc, it is well defended from the seveiity 
 and force of those storms which frequently sweep 
 along the coast of Ireland. From its little quay, a de- 
 lightful walk, completely covered over by trees, con- 
 ducts the stranger lor nearly a mile's distance along 
 the banks of the bay, giving to view at every step, 
 from some new point, some prospect which had not 
 previously attracted his attention. 
 
 As a watering place, Uosstrcvor has been long cele- 
 brated, and is not only a popular place of resort in the 
 summer and autumn sea.sons to the inhabitants of the 
 northern and eastern districts of Ireland, but is much 
 fre<iuented by the smoke-dried denizens of the manu- 
 facturing towns of Lancashire. With the inhabitants 
 of Liverpool it has long been a favorite, and we are 
 not surprised at their partiality, for it is indeed a love- 
 ly spot. The town, or, perhaps, to be more correct, 
 vdlage, is situated on an acclivity, ascending graceful- 
 ly from the margin of a land-locked bay, and backed 
 by precipitous and lofty mountains; villas, noble man- 
 sions, rustic cottages, and every variety of rural dwell- 
 ing completing a scene wherein there is a combination 
 of mountain, ol low land, and of wood and water 
 
 general bore a conspicuous part arc recorded, espeiial- 
 ly that in which he lost his life. It stands in the mid- 
 dle of a field or park, which is enclosed by a deep fosse 
 and embankment. From this point several fine views 
 to the right and left may be taken Not far from this 
 is a handsome cottage, erected by the late General, 
 and in whidi Mrs. Ross continued to reside during the 
 summer seasons. In this direction also are the ruins of 
 an old ' ivy-mantled castle,' said to have been built in 
 ' days of yore,' by one of the lords of Iveagh, but at so 
 remote a period that even the legend concerning its 
 lordly owner has been carried down the stream of dark 
 oblivion. 
 
 The traveller will observe on the summit of Ross- 
 trevor mountain a stone of enormous size, lying im- 
 mcdiatcl}' above the wood ; it is called the Clough- 
 morn stone, and is generally visited by persons stop- 
 ping any lime at Rosstrevor, as the prospect from it is 
 most extensive and sublime. There is also an enchant- 
 ing spot close by the village, called Fairy Hill — the 
 scenery surrounding which is beautiful beyond concep- 
 tion. 
 
 AN ADVENTURE 
 
 It is many years since a gentleman happened to 
 take up a night's lodging in a room which overlooked 
 a church-yard, situated in the midst of a small town. 
 Whether he was a stranger, a visitor, or a resident 
 theie, I cannot at this moment call to mind ; nor do I 
 mention the name of the town, for obvious reasons. — 
 The rank of the inhabitants contributes to the neat I The gentleman wa-s young, strong, and by no means 
 and beautiful appearance of the place, and the public visionary, so that if he looked out of his window be- 
 decorations are in character with the sublimity of the I fore he retired to rest at midnight, it was most probably 
 surrounding landscape. A handsome church and , to speculate upon the weather. Once having looked, 
 steeple at the upper extremity of the marketplace ; however, he could not withdraw his gaze— his eyes 
 strongly relieve the dark front of the mountain be- [ were rivcttcd upon the church, for be perceived, to his 
 hind, and a little way np the hill is a neat shool-house, i great surprise, that a light was burning within it, cast- 
 and also the Roman Catholic chapel, from the west | ing a dull gleam from the windows which surround 
 Bide of which there is a delightful view of the village. | the altar. He watched for a few n)omeuts in silence, 
 Rosstrevor is the united surnames of two respectable I and, it may be supposed, with as much awe as curiosity, 
 
 families, whose properties were here united by a mar- 
 riage of their representatives. On the beach stands a 
 slender and graceful obelisk erected to the memory of 
 the brave General Ross, who fell whilst heading an at- 
 tack on Baltimore in the last American war. It is a 
 
 until he was certain that there could be no deceit, for 
 the light remained burning in the same place. He 
 was resolved to ascertain what so singular an appear- 
 ance could mean ; but he would not go alone — perhaps 
 he durst not — perhaps he wished for the company of 
 
 gate creaked upon its rusty hinges to admit then 
 neither faded or moved. They approached the build- 
 ing; the windows were so high that, to gain any view 
 of what might be passing in the interior, it was neces- 
 sary to have recourse to a ladder ; this, too, iifter some 
 delay, they obtained. They applitd it to the large 
 window of the chancel, and there was some delibera- 
 tion as to who should lirst ascend. The gentleman 
 who had given the alarm at last volunteered the ser- 
 vice, and with a panting breath, and a brow covered 
 with beads of dew, reached the top and looked down, 
 the rest huddling together behind him, and pressing 
 closely one upon the other. The sight he saw was suf- 
 ficient to shake the courage of the stoutest. The com- 
 munion-table had been uncovered, as for the rite, and 
 drawn a short distance from the wall. Two candles 
 had been brought from the vestry, lighted, and placed 
 thereon ; three figures were seated round it, playing at 
 cards. They were young men of licentious habits and 
 notorious impiety, and their flushed countenances and 
 disordered clothes showed that their present audacious 
 act of sacrilege had been planned at some debauch. — 
 But there was a fourth at the table — that fourth a 
 corps c. which had that day been buried in a vault 
 within the church. It had been dragged from its grave 
 by these blasphemous rioters to assist at their game, as 
 if they were resolved that no horror should be wanting. 
 You may think how ghastly the dead lace looked when 
 contrasted with their rude and glaring countenances ; 
 how chilling was its motionless silence in return to 
 their infernal ribaldry. Those who beheld looked long 
 ere they could believe that living men could dare to 
 perpetrate so enormous a crime. Other inhabitants of 
 the neighborhood were presently collected, the church 
 door unlocked, and the gamesters interrupted — who 
 could have dared to wait until the game was played 
 out? They were immediately taken into custody, and 
 it was further discovered that the criminals belonged 
 to some of the most respectable families of the place 
 How they had gained an entrance, or what had tempt- 
 ed them to so fearfully wicked an act, was never known, 
 or, if it was known, was never told ; for, in considera- 
 tion of their families, the matter was hushed up, the 
 
 miscreants allowed to escape from , to re-appear 
 
 , there no more. 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 137 
 
 IRISH MISCELLANY 
 
 BOSTON, SATURDAY, OCTOBER 9. 1858 
 
 PRESSURE FROM WITHIN. 
 
 In the few preceding nrticlea on Chinese affairs, 
 ■we have seen how the 'Flowery Land' has been 
 forced, by a strong pressure from without, to en- 
 dure, not only on her borders, but also within her 
 boundaries, the presence of outside barbarians. She 
 endured it with all the patience which Massachu- 
 setts — in some respects a sort of China in its own 
 respectable way — endures the presence of a southern 
 gentleman who rcay be looking hereabout for an 
 unhappy colored gentleman in difficulties, who pre- 
 ferred to leave his one master, the south, and a 
 home, such as it was, for a host of masters, a north 
 which promises hira everything and gives him noth- 
 ing, and for a home, such as it is, which can never 
 be to him a home. 
 
 The pressure from without on China came chiefly 
 from those insignificant drops of water on the edge 
 of the bucket— England, France, America and Rus- 
 sia. To the action of these powers, at times work- 
 ing separately, at times in real or apparent concert, 
 the opening of the Chinese oyster to the hungry 
 world is in a great measure due. But there has been 
 also a pressure from within which has materially 
 helped to make China somewhat more like other 
 countries, inasmuch as it has lent a hand to unlock 
 the inside fastenings of the Chinese gates, so that 
 strangers may come in. This pressure from within 
 came from three causes— emigration of the native 
 Chinese to newly discovered gold regions, revolu- 
 tion, and the mysterious fact that, notwithstanding 
 so many cruel laws against Christianity, Roman 
 Catholic missionaries might at any time be found 
 by those who needed their services in the very heart 
 of China. 
 
 Before the discovery of the yellow dust of the 
 Califomian regions, a Chinaman was an object of 
 curiosity to the multitude of outside barbarians. 
 He might be seen occasionally in a seaport town, 
 but it is probable that there were more Chinese in 
 Rome and Naples, in IS-ll, than in America and 
 England. The policy of China has always been to 
 keep her children at home. As we intimated in a 
 former article, she was never able to enforce this 
 law with Japanese strictness, because of the far 
 greater number of her subjects and the immense ex- 
 tent of the territory which she had to guard. But, 
 with her knowledge and consent, few or no Chi- 
 nese went abroad, and no stranger came in if she 
 could prevent his entrance. She is one of four 
 powers which have clung to this policy with some 
 success. Japan carried it out so faithfully that, 
 while foreigners could not enter the land and live, 
 native Japanese sailors who were so unlucky as to 
 have been shipwrecked, and who had been rescued 
 by some foreign vessel, were not permitted to re- 
 turn to their own country. If the humane captains 
 ■who rescued them landed them at a Japanese port, 
 they were either imprisoned at once and tor life, or 
 otherwise disposed of, or returned as damaged 
 goods to the captain's hands. Nativeism is by no 
 means an American institution — it was borrowed 
 at second hand by our know-nothings from old, 
 cracked China and worn-out Japan. Know-noth- 
 ingism, should it succeed in the long run, would 
 prove to be a startling evidence of the decay of our 
 civilization. 
 
 Paraguay, under the late dictator. Dr. Francia, 
 was in this respect a faithful imitator of China and 
 Japan. And Central American travellers occasion- 
 ally allude to a mysterious tribe, said to be the last 
 remnant of the aborigines of America— not our In- 
 dians, not the Aztecs of Me.xico, but a nobler and 
 far more civilized race. They are, or were supposed 
 to inhabit a plain almost entirely separated from the 
 rest of the world by mountains and natural barriers 
 
 of every description. No man can leave t)ie place; 
 the stranger who stumbles upon it is imprisoned, or 
 put to death, or, in rare cases, adopted by the tribe, 
 and becomes a genuine Native American, the only 
 conditi'^-n being that he must thenceforward know 
 nothing of the world outside. 
 
 Since the year 18-18, however, Chinamen have 
 been no novelty to us outside barbarians. Since 
 the discovery of the yellow treasures in California, 
 the Chinese managed to escape by twos, threes, 
 dozens, and, finally, by hundreds, from their o^wn 
 country to the golden land, until California is tired 
 of seeing them coming in such numbers. Of course, 
 most of these adventurers are from the open sea- 
 ports, such as Canton, Shanghae and Hongkong, 
 because there is a frightfully large class of hungry 
 people in those places; because their intercourse 
 with English and American merchants teaches them 
 that China is not all the world, and because the 
 means of escape by way of these ports are easily 
 obtained. The few thousands who run away are 
 but as a drop in the Chinese ocean — no one misses 
 them. It is known that they ran away only when 
 they return with gold, and gold, in China, as in all 
 other lands, affords an inducement strong enough 
 to cause hordes of men to leave friends, family and 
 home, and submit to every species of privation and 
 danger. My neighbor, who is not half so enter- 
 prising as I am, went to California, and returned, 
 after a few years, a rich man. I will go too. The 
 conclusion is as reasonable in China as it is in New 
 England. Perhaps more reasonable, because a sum 
 which would be regarded as a very poor pittance 
 here, or a moderate allowance at best, would be a 
 splendid fortune to a Chinaman at home. The 
 Chinese adventurer always means to return to his 
 native country. A Chinaman naturalized in a for- 
 eign land, declaring in good faith his intention of 
 becommg an adopted citizen, is indeed a rare speci- 
 men of humanity. So the imported Chinaman 
 spends little, lives by himself, and takes all that he 
 can get. He does not, in the least degree, help to 
 enrich the community, to which he sticks like a 
 leech. His color, race, manners, habits, customs, 
 language, and religion, are all strange to his new 
 fellow gold-hunters. He came, say the enraged 
 Californians, a miser, a rascal, a heathen, and a 
 beast; as such he stays with ua)> and as such he 
 goes away with a full pur.se, out of which the state 
 has gained less than nothing. If he would stay at 
 home, we might let the thing pass, but presently a 
 horde of his cousins, friends and neighbors rush in 
 to fill, not only his place, but ours. 
 
 And so it has come to pass that Chinamen have 
 become so numerous in California as to afford 
 ground for suspicion and alarm among white men, 
 who mean to spend their money somewhere in 
 America. The Chinese form a community more 
 distinct from ours, less resolvable into ours, and 
 more repugnant to our feelings than even the Mor- 
 mons or Indians. Christianity is an element in the 
 real constitution of this land; often outraged, it is 
 true, but still a living element. The Chinamen not 
 only bring with them their hideous customs, their 
 droll way of living, their dog and rat-eating pro- 
 pensities, but also their whole ritual of idolatrous 
 and demon worship. The American market for 
 Chinamen was, even four or five years ago, regarded 
 by the yellow men in so favorable a light that at 
 least two companies of jugglers and actors visited 
 the land, and astonished our Yankees with their 
 grotesque capers. These companies amused us all, 
 at any rate, and so they did more good to the coun- 
 try than the Chinese gold diggers ever did. One 
 result of the Chinese rush upon us was, that the 
 few old-fashioned Chinese tea merchants in the 
 country, who formerly sported their odd costume 
 in the streets, enjoying the notice taken of them, 
 and the prospect of gaining money by making of 
 themselves wtilking advertisements, now dress like 
 
 the rest of mankind in these parts. The Chinaman 
 dressed for dinner, and eating after the manner of 
 his people, was once a godsend to a collector of 
 curiosities. But who turns to look at him now? 
 
 The California mines, and the prospect of quick 
 gains, proved strong enough to open the gates of the 
 Celestial Empire to out-goers and to in-comers. 
 And those gates will never again be closed. So 
 long as we outside barbarians of Europe and Amer- 
 ica talked to them about our strength, numbers, 
 civilization, literature, arts, sciences, inventions, 
 and of our religion, John Chinaman laughed at us. 
 He pretended that, in each of these and other men- 
 tionable things, he was not our scholar, not even 
 our equal — he was our master. We could not 
 name a thing which he did not know before we 
 knew it, and which he did not know better than 
 we. But, when we told him that across the Pa- 
 cific, in a land almost opposite his shores, gold in 
 
 China a very scarce commodity, a little of which can 
 do much — was to be had for the mere trouble of 
 picking it up, he admitted that China needed one 
 thing which America had, and so he crossed the 
 ocean and built for himself a China in miniature, 
 which might answer his purpose until he could re- 
 turn in the shape of a Chinese millionaire. 
 
 The mysterious revolutionary movement which 
 has shaken China to her centre, and which has trou- 
 bled the land for several years past, has aided the 
 Chinaman who would emigrate in the accomplish- 
 ment of his purpose. No one, Russia always ex- 
 cepted, knows the precise condition of that move- 
 ment. We only know that it is an uprising of the 
 native Chinese against the Tartar dynasty, which 
 took possession of the government and of the fat of 
 the land a few centuries ago. The leader— a sort of 
 Brigbam Young in his way — claims to be not only 
 the inheritor of the rights of tlie deposed Chinese 
 emperors, but also an emissary from heaven. It is 
 not yet known how many thousands have been 
 killed in this war ; we only know that it has been 
 a very cruel civil contest, and that it bid fair to 
 revolutionize the whole empire. Occurring, as it 
 did, contemporaneously with the demonstrations of 
 the western powers against China, it helped quite 
 materially the cause of England and France. A 
 man whose house is in ^flames cannot stop to look 
 after the enemy who is thundering away at his 
 gates. But what induces us to speak of the revolu- 
 tion here, is the fact that it has thrown the empire 
 into a confused state ; it has made the administra- 
 tion of the laws more uncertain, and, in this con- 
 nection, it has made it just now far more easy to 
 the Chinaman to emigrate,make his fortune abroad, 
 and return without attracting much notice And 
 this state of affairs, providentially, comes at the very- 
 time when Chinamen have greater inducement than 
 they ever had to leave the empire for a season to 
 seek their forture, and when western merchants, 
 anxious to find their fortune, are as eager to "ct in- 
 to China as some Chinese are to get out of it. 
 
 We may here observe that the new branch of 
 Chinese traflic, the Coolie trade, has been materially 
 aided by the state of the Chinese mind which we 
 have attempted to describe. These Coolies are to 
 be slaves, of course, and the trade, besides being in 
 substance a revival of the old slave traffic, is a great 
 wrong done to the Chinese, who are told, of course, 
 that they will be transported without charge to the 
 golden regions in America, and that, after they may 
 have compensated, by light work, for the expenses 
 of their passage and keeping, they will be free to 
 dig for as much gold as they can ask for, and roll 
 in it, if they wish to make their yellow skins ap- 
 proach nearer to a rich gold.n color. The poor 
 wretches believe all this ; they live, or vegetate at 
 the starvation point at home, and so they agree to 
 become coolies, and find that, if death do not meet 
 them on their way, as he often mercifully does, they 
 have consigned them.selves to a state of slavery in 
 many respects more hopeless, more abject, more 
 wretched, than that of the imported negro. 
 
 We will conclude our remarks on this subject in 
 
13S 
 
 IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 JOHN SAVAGE'S NEW PLAY OF "SYBIL." 
 
 The tlraniu'ie [»lont of Irishmen has loni^ been a 
 matter of priJe iind exultation to the stnileiii of Irish 
 literature. Congreve, Farquhar, Arlhur Murphy, 
 Goldsniiih, Kellcy, Hrin.sley Sheridan, Shiel, Sheridan 
 Knowles, Uanim, Broui;haDi, Bonriicault, arc narncn 
 familiar as household words to the lovers of dramatic 
 gcniu!.. To the lonR array of Irish dramatic authors, 
 whose works have stood the test of the most aecute 
 critics of the day, and still live, enriching our liter- 
 ature, and shedding honor upon oar country, is now 
 to lio added the name of John Savage. It will be 
 seen by the followinfj notii-ts of his new trafiedy of 
 " Sybil," which we take from some of the leading 
 American papers, that it has met with complete suc- 
 cess wherever performed, and received with intense 
 cnthu.--ia.-ra by the most intellifjent audiences. 
 
 We rongr.itulale our young countryman upon this 
 new jiroof which he has given of the versatility of his 
 literary genius. I'oet, journalist, historian, are titles 
 which but few, if any, of his years can boast ; yet Mr. 
 Savage has distinguished himself in all these depart- 
 ments of literature, and his play of " Sybil " now 
 places him in the front rank of dramatic authors. 
 But to our notices : — 
 
 " The New York correspondent of the London 
 Morning Post of August 31 calls the reraembiance of 
 the readers of that journal to 'John Savage, who, at 
 a very early age, became foolishly implicated in the 
 troubles of 1S48, and was expatriated inconsequence.' 
 The 'world of London' is informed that Mr. Savage 
 is now domiciled in Washington as a journalist, in 
 connexion with our spirited contemporary "over the 
 way,' and, further, that ' he has recently completed a 
 tragedy in live acts, entitled ' Sybil, 'which is to be pro- 
 duced during the winter, the principal 'role' being fill- 
 ed by a gifted young actress, who is now studying the 
 part. She is enthusiastic concerning the merits of the 
 piece, and I am informed by those who have seen the 
 'Sybil' that it really is a meritorious production. As 
 a matter of course, it is devoted to the delineation of 
 female character, and the author's delicate perceptions 
 of v\omiinly feeling and instinct have been highly 
 commended.' The 'gifted young actress' alluded to 
 in the London Post is Miss Avonia Jones of this city, 
 who has so justly attracted the attention and applause 
 of the critical and dramatic world. We perceive by 
 the St. Louis papers that 'Sybil' has been produced 
 there, and that a decided success, for both actor and 
 author, has been the result" 
 
 We clip the above from the National Intelligencer 
 of the 25ih. In the St. Louis Repuldican we find un- 
 equivocal endence of the result alluded to by the In- 
 telligencer ; — 
 
 " SyiiiL, A Put, by John Savage. — A few days 
 since, we stated that, from lack of room, our remarks 
 concerning the new play, as performed at the Si. Louis 
 Theatre, must appear in a future number of the Re- 
 publican. Whenever, as in the present instance of a 
 success such as 'Sybil' has merited and may boast, we 
 can obtain the manuscript from which to copy sen- 
 tences, more than ordinary pains may properly be 
 given to description and analysis. The piece is simple, 
 partially founded on fact, and possessing little real in- 
 terest as a .story. Something of a similar narrative 
 makes the groundwork for many a play, but in the use 
 of colors which compose a picture, ignorance or skill 
 on the part of the artist has much to do with the grand 
 effect. Mr. Sarnge gains for himself much credit for 
 faithful exposition of dcmagoguism and villainy, no 
 less than for the descriptive progress of his plan to 
 make just retribution. The character of Colonel 
 Sharpe is one too frecjuently met with and too seldom 
 shown np to the public gaze, either on the stage, or 
 by the press. He is a smoothfaced villain, utterly un- 
 worthy a position of trust, but by connivance easily 
 obtaining such position; utterly destitute of moral in- 
 tecrity, but an acknowledged favorite at the club! In 
 the di-lineation of this character Mr. Savage has been 
 most happy, and the good actor finds room for the 
 display of talent, as in strict accordance with the daty 
 
 of his profession, he holds the mirror up to nature, and 
 shows vice her deformity. Eustat-e Clifden is a line | 
 fellow, of course the opposite to Sharpe, and quite I 
 justly is made to become the instrument of Sybil's i 
 vengeance. It is fit that the man who so loved her 
 should be the niorlnl banc of him who so betrayed her. i 
 William Acton, a young lawyer and an early suitor 
 for the liand of Sybil, very magnanimously forgetting 
 his rejection by her, caring more for the just punish- 
 ment of Sharpe and the acquittal of Clifden, is ai)rom- 
 inent part in the mechanism of the piece. The char- j 
 acters of Lowe, Old Acton and linrnabas, are required i 
 for the setting forth of the author's meaning; but like 
 the ladies, other than the heroine, they do not assist in 
 the unraveling ot the plot, and as Mr. Macready once 
 said ol the character of Glavis in the Lady of Lyons, 
 'although needed he would not be mis.sed." 
 
 Such women as Sybil have lived, have been wronged, 
 have thirsted for vengeance, and have died when ven- 
 geance was accomplished. Thus much for hints at 
 the general tenor of the play. It contains many bril- 
 liant passages, and in its situations and conversations 
 there is a degree of interest sufficient to compel the 
 attention and applause of the audience. But it is a 
 piece which calls for acting of no common order. The 
 materials of an edifice may be furnished ready for use, 
 but your good architect must see that all is in proper 
 place, and the truth of original design never forgotten. 
 As evidence of his skill in description of matters polit- 
 ical, (for a long time a resident at Washington and 
 understands how politicians pull infernal wires,) we 
 quote a few lines ol the conversation between Sharpe 
 and Barnabas, in reference to Sharpe's opponent, 
 young Acton. 
 
 'Every line a man writes is political capital for his 
 enemies. Then he is obscure, that's certain. Little 
 known among the masses, and for a good reason, he 
 does not mix with them; he is a. haughty aristocrat , a 
 man who only knows the people when he wants their 
 vote. 
 
 Bar. — Is that really the case? 
 
 Sharpe — Simpleton, we must make it appear so. 
 It may or may not be — what is the difference to usl 
 That he is shy and reserved is, I understand, the fact. 
 Well, it is just as likely it is from pride as from any- 
 thing else. Perhaps ho is a fellow of delicate feelings. 
 Delicate feelings are very unpopular things. They 
 alone, would go very hard against him. If we could 
 persuade him to wear kid gloves, it would save us a 
 few thousand. Kid gloves are not popular; if any- 
 thing, ihey are more ruinous than delicate feelings. 
 Then he is cautious of taverns. Couldn't the popular 
 eye discover a demijohn in his study ! Pride, tender 
 feeling, kid gloves, private demijohns, political death, 
 certain.' 
 
 Sybil is first discovered firing at a mark, which prac- 
 tice, she tells us in her soliloquy, has been followed by 
 her for five years, that she might acquire the 
 steadiness and certainty of aim necessary for the ac- 
 complishment of her revenge, viz: the death of him 
 who had betrayed her. From the first vision of Sybil 
 to the fall of the green curtain, there was no lack of 
 interest on the part of the audience in the performance 
 of the piece. 
 
 As f the goodness and purity of heart, which in her 
 girlhood had been hers, had given place to one over- 
 rnliog desire and determination of revenge, Sybil told 
 her dreadful story, and vowed to consummate her pur- 
 pose. Her first converse with Eustace is well written 
 by the author, and most naturally spoken by Miss 
 Jones. But the real interest of the piece dates from 
 the acceptance of his band upon the condition that he 
 is to be her avenger. The dialogue is earnest, natu- 
 ral, and sometimes beautiful. The recitation was one 
 of the best exhibitions of dramatic reading we have 
 ever heard. The scene in which Col. Sharpe aUas 
 Alfred Stevens, was urged by Sybil to leave her hus- 
 band's house, and that in v/hich she exposed his vil- 
 lainy, aud then her endeavor to prevent Clifden from 
 risking his lite in an encounter, v/ere so vividly and 
 beautilully played that the audience, when the curtain 
 fell upon the act, called the Sybil before it and greeted 
 her with tremendous applause. 
 
 The acting of Miss Jones in her wild appeal to the 
 jury, in the fifth act, we do not remember to have seen 
 equalled by any actress in a similar sapposiciouB poBi 
 
 tinn. It was, perhaps, the best point in the play. 
 On the whole, the piece was a decided success, and 
 many anxious inquiries have been made for its repe- 
 tition. But the engagement of the actress closed last 
 evening, and Sybil cannot be played hero until her re- 
 turn. We hope for that return, and pray it may bo 
 speedy. No one on the stage has in the same space of 
 time, accomplished as much, or been as richly repaid 
 for intense study, by heartfelt plaudits, as Miss Avonia 
 Jones. 
 
 ALIENS IN THE UNITED STATES ARMY. 
 
 As chroniclers for the Celtic race, we feel pleased to 
 notice anything which has for its object the good of 
 our race. The follnwing is the correspondence which 
 has taken place between Sergeant Thomas O'Neill and 
 the Hon. the Secretary of War, relative to the enlist- 
 meiu of aliens in the United States army. It is grati- 
 fying to see that the Secretary attaches so much im- 
 portance to the matter, and we may soon expect to 
 hear of the evil being remedied. Wc understand that 
 a similar correspondence has taken place with the 
 Hon. the Secretary of the Navy, which we will pnbliih 
 in due time : — 
 
 BosTOB, Sept. 20, 1858. 
 To the Hon. the Secretary of War: — 
 
 Dear Sir — I wish respectfully to call your attention to the 
 fact which has many times came under my personal obser- 
 vation, and which 1 think the Honorable Secretary will 
 deem worthy of ooueideration. 
 
 It is well known that a great portion of the army of regu- 
 lar service of the United States are Irishmen, and that one- 
 fourth of that number are not naturalized. There are many 
 men in the service who have no tie to the country pave the 
 oath of enlistment. To the country this is no evil, as I 
 know, from experience, they faithfully serve the land they 
 wish to adopt; but to them it is a gicat misfortune that — 
 before or at the time of enlistment— the service does not re- 
 quire the applicant for service to declare his intention to 
 become a citizen of the republic, thus, when his five years 
 expire, he could receive the certificate of citizenship, and 
 not be an alien in the land he loves, and for which he has 
 very likely shed hie blood. 
 
 Believing the Secretary will give this matter bis kind con- 
 sideration, I remain obediently, and very respectfully, 
 
 THOMAS O'KEILL. 
 
 Hon. John B. Floyd, Secretary of War. 
 
 War Defartmext, 1 
 Washington, Sept. 23, 1858. ) 
 Sir— I have to acknowledge the receiptor your letter of 
 the 20th iust., in regard to the proposed requirement from 
 aliens enlisting in the army, that they should first declare 
 their intention to become citizens of the United States. I 
 have already given this subject my attention, and take oc- 
 casion to say that I fully concur with you in regard to the 
 policy indicated in your communication. 
 
 Very respectfully your obedient servant, 
 
 JOHN B. FLOYD, Sec. of War. 
 Thomas O'Neill, Esq., 7 Milton place, Boston. 
 
 THE LAUNCH OF THE 'GENERAL ADMIRAL.' 
 
 On Tuesday, September 21, the largest wooden ship 
 in the world was launched from the ship-yard of Mr. 
 William H. Webb, on the East River. The vessel is 
 the ' General Admiral,' a man-of-war, budt by Mr. 
 Webb for the Emperor of Russia. Her keel was laid 
 on the 21st of September, 1857, (the anniversary of the 
 Grand Duke Constanlinc's birthday,) by the Russian 
 Minister and a number of Russian officers, with all the 
 ce:emony usual on such occasions, and it is expected 
 that she will be completed by next October. The 
 model is what is called the long, flat floor, full bilge, 
 sharp ends, lound stern, no poop nor cutwater, shoit 
 forecastle deck. She is expected to attain a speed of 
 fourt.en knots under sail, and her draught of water 
 will not exceed twenty-five feet. Her dimensions are : 
 Length on spar deck, 307 feet; breadth, 55 feet; length 
 over all, about 325 feet ; depth to spar deck, about 34 
 feet. She is pierced with forty-four side ports, and two 
 stern ports on lower deck. Her armament will consist 
 of forty shell guns of large calibre on gun deck, and 
 twenty long guns and two pivot guns of the largest size 
 on her spir deck. The ship is built of white oak. She 
 will be propelled by two direct horizontal engines, each 
 cylinder of which will be eighty-four inches in diame- 
 ter and three feet nine inch stroke, with a nominal 
 power of 800 horse, but an actual horse power of 2000. 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 139 
 
 The following lines were written by request on 
 the niclnncholv lieHth of a heaatiful younij; woman 
 who had rctunu'd lo lur friends In ihis ciiy, from a 
 late visit across the Ailaniic to the home of her early 
 audjojous childhood, and who was about to be mar- 
 ried to a respectable and worthy young man of llox- 
 bury : — 
 
 Yes, she cross'd the stormy ocean, 
 
 Bade her dearest friends adieu, 
 
 "With fond hopes and warm emotion 
 
 Love's young token to renew — 
 
 Faitlilul Annie — 
 
 Paths of virtue to pursue. 
 
 Ah sweet girl! when on the billow 
 Sailing for New England's shore, 
 
 Sleepless on my lonely pillow 
 I have wfttch'd thy coming o'er, 
 Longing, praying, 
 
 Thr)u 'd be mine forever more. 
 
 Soothing zephyrs softly breathing, 
 Sparicling dew drops, vernal rain, 
 
 Morning blushes gently stealing 
 O'er thy weak and slender form — 
 
 Thou hast fallen in their train 
 
 Thy fond hopes, dear girl, are over- 
 Weeping willows drape thy bed- 
 In the grasp of thy cold mother. 
 Thou art sleeping with the dead; 
 Mould'ring beauty, 
 All my joys with thee are fled. 
 
 Ah ! no more those bright orbs cheering, 
 
 'Neath thy placid brows serene, 
 Nor thy smile of hope endearing 
 
 T'wards the goal of 'love's young dream' ; 
 Bride celestial, 
 Fled all fleeting joys terrene. 
 
 Far from home, lov'd natal Erin, 
 
 Low beneath the willow tree 
 Sleeps as pure and fair a maiden 
 
 As e'er cross'd the dark blue sea; 
 Guileless girl. 
 Truth and virtue bloom'd in thee. 
 
 Ah, loved Annie! why thus leave me 
 
 Pensive, languid and alone; 
 Thy bereavement sorely grieves me — 
 
 Sweetest treasure thou art flown 
 Up to heaven. 
 There with virgin spirits 'thron'd. 
 
 Sad we watch'd thy wasting form 
 On death's painful couch impaled. 
 
 Sad to see the heaving storm 
 In thy bosom still prevail— 
 Drooping lily, 
 
 Steep'd in anguish, languid, pale. 
 
 Chaste and lovely mould'ring form. 
 
 Angels guard thy sombre home. 
 Till the great devouring storm 
 And the final trump is blown. 
 Then, lone captive 
 Rise immortal from the tomb ! 
 South Boston, Sept. 21. Tolaitd. 
 
 [Written for the Jtiscellany 1 
 
 CATOCTI N. 
 
 BY 'ORANMOEE.' 
 
 Part Third— Past and Present. 
 
 Soon the classic precints of ' Swampoodle,' or 
 ',EngUsh Hill," swim circling backward from the 
 view, and the last glimpse, for the present, is ob- 
 tained of its equally free-soil and sagacious pigs 
 and populace. The view being momentarily shut 
 out by the castle of the 'Little Giant '—hight, 
 Douglas — who, by enchantment, has there had con- 
 fined a peerless damosel, yclypt, Cutts, the daugh- 
 ter of a mighty auditor — the descendent, pcrchanco, 
 of 'Fine-car' — a famous auditor in Fairy History. 
 
 The mansions of Senator Rice, and Vice-Presi- 
 dent Ureckinridge, built in the same style, adjoin. 
 
 On the other hand— the right— peering over the 
 spinning hill top, whirl the huge iron pillars of the 
 new Capitol dome, circumgyrating in the mazes of 
 Fulton's • Last Waltz.' On their broad capitals 
 rests, apparently, nothing else, as yet, other than the 
 vault of heaven, frescoed with cumuli. Finally, 
 the dome itself ducks behind the lengthening, rock- 
 
 ing-road that backward e.\tends over the hill-top, 1 
 and forward conducts to ' the country.' 
 The well-known song says : 
 
 ' Oh, my lovely 'Cinda! 
 I saw her at the winder.' 
 But, travelling in the cars, and seated at the win- 
 dow, a far more provoking cinder strikes the eye, 
 without the privilege of seeing either the cause of 
 yoar tears and distress, or anything else. Thus, just 
 as I was about to make a note, I caught a mote. 
 
 As soon as this ' atom ' — the ' History of ' which 
 Dean Swift never wrote — had been dislodged, I was 
 enabled to see — 
 
 First — Pierce's Mill. A picturesque, romantic 
 scene ; my favorite, from childhood, of all the 
 charming spots around Washington. Ever since the 
 first holiday afternoon, I trudged up yonder red 
 clay road, with a pillow-case of chestnuts, or shell- 
 barks, or chinquapins (as the case might be), swung 
 over my shoulder, one hand scarce containing the 
 ' candies ' I had culled for future use ; the other 
 grasping an ' Indian bow and arrow ;' specimens of 
 the handicraft of liind-hearted Ham Degges, one of 
 the big boys at Strahan's^ — our school. 
 
 Ham (naturally associated with days of imprison- 
 ment) is now a stalwart six-footer, master-builder, 
 and President of a Fire Company. 
 
 These recollections of Pierce's Mill, and a train of 
 thoughts beside, enough to make a volume, sweep 
 o'er my mind more rapidly than the train of cars 
 around the curve, that removed the Old Mill from 
 sight, and brings into view the wood-crowned 
 heights of ' Eckington ' the peaceful retreat of the 
 admired sage — the truly honorable Joseph Gales ; 
 and full also is this sweet place of associations. 
 Here have I and my brother, at the same tender 
 period alluded to, often drank nearly a pitcher of 
 milk, at the urgent bidding of the matronly ' Biddy, 
 the dairy maid.' 
 
 ' Dhrink enough of it now, and may God bless 
 you for a good boy, as you are !' 
 
 Later in life — one or two autumns ago, the last 
 occasion — seated under the golden-leaved forest 
 trees, our ears filled with the harmonies of nature, 
 and hands employed in transferring the lineaments 
 of the landscape to a sketch book ; our reveries and 
 occupations have been sweetlyj interrupted by the 
 rapidly spoken, gentle-toned salutation, and beauti- 
 ful smile of him who has been rightly named — 
 ' Pleasant Gales.' 
 
 That great mind and great heart! Long may 
 they pour oil on life's troubled waters. It is a 
 peculiar enjoyment, simply to have had that open, 
 noble countenance kindly smile upon you. One is 
 made happy long after with the cheerfulness it im- 
 parts. Much could I write concerning this beloved 
 and distinguished man, far more interesting to the 
 reader than anything these papers can contain ; but 
 this is beyond the limits of ray present plan. 
 
 Ere you would think the iron-horse could recover 
 his breath, from the long, shrill neigh he gave at 
 starting, his glad ' ha ! ha !' peals forth again, 
 trumpet-toned, as he plunges, now like a war- 
 horse, up to the battle-field of Bladensburg. 
 
 History's story of Bladensburg all the world 
 knows ; but, apart from that, it has for us an inter- 
 est, connected with a sojourn for the season, now 
 and then, at ' Kirkwood Hame,' about three miles 
 over the woods there te the west. 
 ■ Memories there also.' 
 Recollections of bright, rudy faces, and music ' i' 
 the air,' breatlied from the lips like dewy rose-buds ; 
 as redolent of poetry, purity, and perfume, as new 
 mown hay-fields. 
 
 Ileigho ! Over my door is long ago inscribed— 
 
 ' Here lives Beneilick, the married man.' 
 ' What hoi' my fancy, whither wilt thou lead 
 me?' Back from Kirkwood Hame, its spring and 
 brookside to — Bladensburg station. 
 
 Yonder, over the old, rude, bannisterle<» bridge, 
 
 leisurely cross the smiling young folks. Hat, flat, 
 or Bunbonnct on, and polished tumbler in hand, 
 they go to take 'another drink of the Spa.' In ad- 
 vance of them, already within the paling enclosure, 
 a group similarly compo.sed is assembled. Some 
 are dipping glasses into the sunken cask, contain- 
 ing the spring, which is protected at the surface by 
 parallel iron bars. Others have drank and retired; 
 others await their turn. 
 
 Dashing equipages, open barouches, &c., are 
 drawn up outside, filled with sunshades; a scene 
 all crinoline and silk. A gay encampment, every 
 'fille du regiment' laughing merrily. The horses 
 are drinking from the trough, which overflowing, 
 still receives the surplus ebullition of the Spa. 
 Liveried coachmen and footmen stand by, with gal- 
 lon stone jugs in hand, waiting an opportunity to 
 fill them. This water thus finds its way to Wash- 
 ington and Baltimore, and further. 
 
 All this we see and note while the train stops a 
 moment, and in a moment we leave the spring to 
 summer, which it will be ere our return. 
 
 Next, Beltsville. 
 
 More reminiscences. Recollections of Carroll's 
 Mills, and Laurel Mills, and the Powder Mills. 
 
 And of old Uncle Peter, of the Powder Mills, 
 who was blown up so high one day as to enable 
 him to cast an eye so far over the country that he 
 lost it. That is, he came down with only the left 
 eye right, and his face tattooed with gunpowder, to 
 the admiration of a New Zealander. 
 
 Poor Uucle Peter! He surpassed that exploit 
 next time. In a subsequent explosion he was blown 
 higher still — at least, I presume so, as he never 
 came down again anywhere. I sincerely hope — in 
 fact, I trust he is in heaven. 
 
 And well I recollect old Mr. Carroll. A perfect 
 'fac simile' of the benevolent Peter Parley, with the 
 additions that 
 
 'The stump of a pipe stuck fast in his teeth. 
 And the smoke it encircled his head like a wreath,; 
 a bit of stick in one hand, and a bit (a shilling) in 
 the other, one of which— the coin, which I least de- 
 served — was regularly extended to me, on our meet- 
 ing, during my growth from his knee-breeches to 
 his waistcoat pocket. 
 
 Well, well, I haven't time, nor you patience to 
 recall the half I know of old Mr. Carroll or Uncle 
 Peter, or the 'Big Boys.' 
 
 Oh! the Big Boys. They would make a story of 
 themselves. Clnly think of three old bachelors, 
 brothers, named AVhat? 
 
 Nobody knows. They call themselves Shadrach, 
 Meshac, and Abednego, and doubtless they have 
 passed through a fiery furnace, to induce them to 
 lead the hermit lives they do, shunning all com- 
 munion with their fellow men, and flying, terror- 
 stricken, from the face of woman, if accidentally 
 encountered. The last temptation of St. Anthony — 
 'A laughing woman, with two blue eyes.; ' 
 
 would, in their case, have been the most signal in 
 its failure, except that, literally, in their opinion, 
 she is 
 
 'The wickedest devil among them all.' 
 They must have passed through the fiery furnace 
 innumerable times, to have so long battled imperti- 
 nent curiosity, and preserved their 'incognito.' 
 
 The Big Boys are waited upon by Ned, 'Black 
 Ned,' or 'Bachelor Ned,' for he is called each of the 
 three. Bachelor Ned is as ascetic as his masters. 
 Nobody knows where he or they came from; 
 whether he belongs to them, or serves them through 
 afiection. He is cook, farm-hand, milk-maid, 
 washerwoman, chambermaid, and assistant nurse, 
 in case of sickness in the family. He is also some- 
 thing of a doctor and something of a parson. The 
 dogs on the farm are bulls and maslitt's, and those 
 of the fiercest natures, and the female of every crea- 
 ture, .save where indisijensubly useful, has been 
 sedulously excluded from the singular home of the 
 Big Boys. 
 
 These strange beings cannot now be short of sev- 
 enty years of age each, at least, and Bachelor Ned, 
 si.vty. They are really Big Boys, fully or over six 
 feet high, and proportionately stout. 
 
 The cars leave Beltsville, and the next point to 
 note is the Relay Ilou.se. Here we must remain 
 until live o'clock. Ou this accouut, it is suggested 
 it shall be called the Delay Hauee. 
 
140 
 
 IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 [Wrilteu lor tliu Mi»ci'lliiiiy.| 
 ENLISTING FOR THE QUEEN. 
 
 DV DAR8T SICKEOH. 
 
 Aip — ' Shan V«n Vooth.' 
 
 I'm ciiliatlni; Tor llie Quccu, 
 
 Sayii the Shau Vau Vooth, 
 
 That no klud to you hag been, 
 Says the Shan Van Vocth ; 
 
 That miUt and gentle Queen, 
 
 That ruled in Skibbereen. 
 
 That bann'd our Holy Urven, 
 
 Sayiithe Shau Vau Vouth. 
 
 That lady without guile. 
 
 Sayp the Shan Van Vocth, 
 From our tVieudly sister isle, 
 
 Says the Shan Van Vocth ; 
 That lady without guile. 
 That our pure aud lovely isle 
 Doth plunder and revile. 
 
 Says the Shan Van Vocth. 
 
 She's a charming little wench. 
 Say ((the Shan Van Vocth, 
 
 You wont tee her in a pinch. 
 Says the Shan Vau Vocth; 
 
 She adore.s you in her pinch, 
 
 To 8tick you in a trench, 
 
 As targets lor the French, 
 
 Says tlie Shan Vau Vocth. 
 
 Wont you die to save bcr throne! 
 
 Says the Shan Van Vocth, 
 That blood-stained Saxon throne. 
 
 Says the Shan Van Vocth; 
 Wont you proptl'.at falling throne. 
 With your Irish blood and bone, 
 That robbed you of your own? 
 
 Says tlie Shau Van Vocth. 
 
 There will soon be warm play. 
 Says the Shan Vau Vocth, 
 
 On the land aud on the sea. 
 
 Says the Shan Van Vocth ; 
 
 She wants you for that day, 
 
 Your lives to throw away. 
 
 To uphold her cruel sway. 
 
 Says the Shan Van Vocth. 
 
 Will you fight to bind the chains. 
 
 Says the Shan Vau Vocth, 
 On your own dear native plains? 
 Says the Shan Van Vocth ; 
 Will you die to bind the chains. 
 For some lilthy sordid gains, 
 Round your bleeding mother's veins? 
 Says the Shan Van Vocth. 
 
 A war cloud 's coming fast. 
 
 Says the Slian Van Vocth, 
 
 Her bloated power to blast. 
 
 Says the .Shan Van Vocth; 
 
 May itti licrcest vengeance ikat 
 
 Her every effort blast. 
 
 For now and for the past. 
 
 Says the Shan Van Vocth. 
 
 May our Erin's deadly foe, 
 
 Says the Shan Van A'octh, 
 
 Meet a totai overthrow, 
 
 Says the Shan A'an Vocth; 
 
 May Erin's brutal foe, 
 
 Forever be laid low. 
 
 Bad luck to them says no. 
 
 Says the Shan Van Vocth. 
 
 SiLKUT Inflcknce — It is the bubbling spring 
 wbieh 6ows gently, the little rivulet which runs along, 
 day and night, by the farm-house, that is useful, rather 
 than the swollen flood or cnteract. Niagara excites 
 our wonder, and we stand amazed at the power and 
 greatness of God there. a.s ho ' poured it from the hol- 
 low of his hand.' But one Niagara is enough for the 
 world, while the same world requires thousands and 
 tens of ihoasands of silver fountains and gently flowing 
 rivulets, that water every meadow, and every garden, 
 and that flow on very night wiih their gentle, quiet 
 beauty. 80 with our livts. It is not by great deeds, 
 like those of the martyrs, that good is to be done ; it is 
 by the daily and quiet virtues of life, the Christain 
 temper, the meek forbearance, the spirit of forgiveness, 
 in the husband, the wife, the father, the moiher, the 
 brother, the sister, the friend, the neighbor, that is 
 done. 
 
 CORRESPONDENCE. 
 
 [l'"or the Irish Mi»cclliiny.| 
 
 Messrs. Editors — As a warm admirer of your excel- 
 lent little journal, I cannot wiihhoKl from you that 
 need of praise which you so richly deserve. Gratitude 
 is a quality of the Irish heart, and it readily aeknow- 
 ledjjes merit whore it is due. I have been an utien- 
 live reader of your admirable and patriotic Miscellany 
 from the beginning, and am proud to say that you 
 have not only fullilled your promise, in giving us a 
 magazine suited to our tastes and feelings, but have 
 more than realized our most sanguine expectations. I 
 an.KJOHsly wait the arrival of every Saturday that 
 brings round your thrice welcome ' vi.-itor,' and would 
 readily forego the pleasure of a good dinner in order 
 to digest its well-lilled pages. ' 
 
 Your Miscellany covers a void for which my heart 
 long yearned. I have longed to see the day when I 
 would behold a magazine devoted to Irish interests 
 and nationality, that would show to the world Irish 
 genius in all the walks of literature, from the mirthful 
 tale 10 the most elaborate essays upon science, politi- 
 cal economy and jurisprudence. It has many claims 
 upon our hearts and atfections ; it lays before us, as in 
 a mirror, scenes that were near and dear to us in the 
 land we love best, revives the polished literature, there- 
 by giving the lie to our adversaries, who slanderously 
 say that Ireland is only productive in ' potatoes and 
 pigs.' 
 
 Many thanks to Messrs. Editors for the patriotic 
 steps you have taken in bi inging out a ' rale ' Irish 
 journal, full of fun, wit and anecdotes ; the most en- 
 chaming descriptive scenery, and the most charming 
 poetical eft'usions, which, fur depth of pathos, were 
 never before equalled, e.xcepting in the case of the 
 Jews, (luring their captivity, when sitting down by the 
 rivers of 15abylon, their minstrels unstrung their harps 
 uinl pour.d out the full tide of their grief when they 
 rciueiubered Zion. 
 
 The condition of the Irish race is not unsimilar to 
 the Jews of old, banished from country, and among your 
 poets may be found some favored sons of the muses 
 that ' pour out the full tide of their patriotic hearts ' 
 upon the wrongs of Ireland, in ' thoughts that breath 
 and words that burn ' Among these may be reckoned 
 the author of the 'Poor Irish Stranger,' in the Miscel- 
 lany of the 18th inst, which, for 'Amor patria ' feeling 
 and pathos, is not surpassed by the Scottish poet, in 
 his soul-stirring strains of the ' E.xile of Erin.' 
 
 These are the qualities which endear the Miscellany 
 to us ; but I fear there are some who do not encourage 
 any laudible eflfort made to elevate the standard of 
 their country and race by contributing to its support. 
 It is a burning shame for Irishmen to permit maga- 
 zines, devoted to their interests, to languish for the 
 want of that patronage which they so richly deserve. 
 If they would reserve the small sum of two dollars a 
 year for a sabscription to some useful paper, how soon 
 would their condition be improved. It would elevate 
 their moral tone, and be a source of pleasure to the 
 family circle, instead ot laying it out upon ' rot-gut in 
 the doggeries,' or to be domiciled under the bed for a 
 ^ rainy day.' 
 
 Up, therefore, my countrymen ! and repel the charge 
 that jou are not a ' reading cla-is,' by subscribing to 
 the Miscellany in which you will find a ' lu.\uriou8 
 treat ' of all that is ' rich, racy and spicy.' 
 
 As for myself, I say 'Esto pcrpetua' and in gunuine 
 Celtic courtesy, I hail it with a ' cead nieilla faltia,' 
 and am yours, Messrs. Editors, for the dill'usion of 
 Irish literature. M. Uownino. 
 
 Indianapolis, Ind. Sept. 20th, 1S5S. 
 
 Heat «f Moonlioht. — Professor Piazza Smith, 
 the astrommier royal for Scotland, in his interesting 
 account of the recent scientific expedition made by him 
 to the Peak of Teneriflfe, has set at rest the vexed 
 question of the heat of the moonlight. He says that 
 his thermometrical instruments were sensibly affected 
 by the moon's rays, even at the lowest of two stations 
 occupied by him at different elevations. 
 
 I INDIA YET ALIVE. 
 
 Having heard nothing from India lately, wo cilme to 
 I the conclusion that the patriots were all med up by 
 British bayonets, or blown from the cannon's month ; 
 I hut Mr. Russell, the correspondent of the London 
 j Times, does not think British interests quite safe thei'e 
 ] yet. Hear what he says : — 
 
 WHAT A DlKn 18 LIKE. 
 
 Part of the road is crowded with the baggage of a 
 Sikh regiment returning towards the Punjaui). What 
 piles of Moot!' — I am told that that is a more exjiressive 
 word than either ' pillage ' or ' plunder,' — each sur- 
 mounted by a gaily dressed lady, while the lean-limbed 
 sinewy Sikh, in his dust-colored turban, carkce tunic, 
 and tiglit irowsers, strode along lightly hy the side of 
 the cart, laughing and singing with deli^'ht at the pros- 
 pect of a return to his native deserts. It is a serious 
 thing to reflect upon, that there are seventy and odd 
 thousand of these fiery soldiers, who, now faithful to 
 us, are full of Punic faith and more than Oriental cun- 
 ning, and who were but too often the foremost and the 
 most sanguinary among the ringleaders of the mutiny 
 — seventy-three thousand of them drilled, equipped 
 and armed, fighting for us south of the Sutlej, and 
 talking of the time when they may have to fight against 
 us. Their present ' Goroo ' is John Lawrence ; but 
 there is no one in India more deeply sensible of the 
 danger which may come from the race he rules with 
 such facile and mighty hand than tho greiit administra- 
 tor of the Punjaub. These fellows are 'clinquant' with 
 gold. They have huge ear-rings of the precious metal, 
 and cables of it with fringes of inohurs round their 
 necks. Their sword-hilts are nuggets; the richest 
 scarfs and shawls encircle their lithe waists. With 
 their flashing black eyes, fine thin noses, glossy black 
 mustaches, beard, and upturned whiskers, light, grin- 
 ning smile opening up the rows o'' sharp teeth, their 
 quick, light tread and lithe movements, they put one 
 more in mind of tigers than any race of men I ever be- 
 held. 
 
 WILL THE SIKHS REBEL HEREAFTER ? 
 
 The tiger has tasted blood in the plains below, but 
 his meal will content him for the present. It must not 
 be supposed that the beast did not give trouble now 
 and then. Like the Hindoo, he regards the cow as a 
 sacred creature, and in one instance we had to give or- 
 ders that no oxen should he slaughtered except at a dis- 
 tance from the camp, in order that the Sikhs might not 
 be offended. Some of these regiments, such as Wilde's 
 and Brayser's, the Ferozepore regiment, have fought as 
 hard, if not more fiercely, done as much service and 
 lost as many from the enemy as any of our English 
 battalions ; hut it cannot be denied that much depends 
 upon their officers. The men can, of course, march 
 better, and resist the heat of an Indian summer better 
 than ordinary Europeans. Some men they will follow 
 to the death — for others they will not stir an inch. The 
 general relation of the European to the native soldier 
 is admirably expressed in a metaphor suggested, I be- 
 lieve, by Sir Colin Campbell himself, in describing 
 the merits of the two races; — 'Take a bamboo and cast 
 it against a tree, the shaft will rebound and fall harm- 
 less ; tip it with steel, and it becomes a spear which 
 will pierce deep and kill. The bamboo is the Asiatic — 
 the steel point is the European.' Of the Sikh this is 
 true only to a certain extent. He is midc of tougher 
 and denser material than bamboo ; he is at least of oak, 
 and hardens in the fire. Ilodson's horse relnsed to 
 charge, if my letters tell me trnth, tho other day at 
 Nawabgunge ; but the Sikh never absolutely refuses to 
 face the enemy. 
 
 ■\Vhen the transport Birkenhead struck a rock near 
 the Cape of Good Hope, and broke in two, there were 
 only boats enough to save the women and children. 
 There was no rushing or crowding then. Col. Moore 
 called his brave Inniskillens and formed them into 
 line on the deck of the sinking steamer, while their 
 wives and children embarked in the boats. The 
 noble fellows, as they stood in line, gave three 
 hoarse cheers for their departing dear ones, and 
 maintamcd their ranks unbroken till the deck was 
 swept from under their feet. 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 141 
 
 FOREIGN INTELLIGENCE. 
 
 We make the toUowing extracts from our latest 
 foreign exchanges : — 
 
 IRELAND. 
 
 Galway and Amehica. — The success of the Lever 
 line of packets is even more than an accomplished 
 fact. In proof, the following circumstances are men- 
 tioned in connection with the sailing of the Prince 
 Albert, which is destined to make her second out- 
 ward trip across the Atlantic on Tuesday next. 
 Every berth on board the Prince Albert is engaged 
 — first, second and third class ; and orders were 
 yesterday issued to the agents at the different locali- 
 ties to enter no more passengers, just to prevent 
 disappointment. There is to-day, in Gahvay, await- 
 ing shipment by the vessels of this line, more thnn 
 twice as much as can be carried in the vessel for 
 ne.xt week, and we may state that such arrange- 
 ments are being made by Mr. Lever, for putting ad- 
 ditional vessels on the line as will obviate any in- 
 convenience or disappointment for the future. We 
 speak of these things not in a mere boastful charac- 
 ter, but as facts of great significance. To-day we 
 had an opportunity of looking over the book which 
 registers the goods received for shipment to America 
 at the Galway terminus of the IViidland Great Wes- 
 tern Railway. Every day, and by every train since 
 Monday, large consignments of goods have been re- 
 ceived from almost every manufacturing district of 
 England, Ireland, and Scotland. Take for instance, 
 on Wednesday, the 8th ult., there appeared on the 
 goods' list of the early train the following entry : 26 
 hhds of porter to Hubert and Parish, New York j 
 City of Dublin Steam Packet Company, to W. H. 
 Butler, 48 oases goods ; Jones, to ditto, 16 boxes of 
 linen. By next day's train there arrived, addressed 
 Jones to Butler, 61 boxes of linen, 66 boxes of linen, 
 7 cases of muslin, 12 bales of prints. In making 
 mention of these we do not, of course, pretend to 
 enumerate all the miscellaneous articles intended 
 for exportation. This morning Captain Waters re- 
 ceived a communication from Mr. Lever, requesting 
 to know whether it would be possible to fit up ad- 
 ditional accommodation for the number of first and 
 second class passengers who were offering ; but, on 
 consultation with Captain Thompson, R. N., the 
 managing marine director of the line, who is in Gal- 
 way at present, and actively assisting in the fitting 
 out of the Prince Albert, he thought it better to ad- 
 vise that no more passengers should be taken than 
 what the ship was prepared to carry according to 
 her ordinary complement. In the propriety of this 
 arrangement we entirely concur, as it is best to 
 study the comfort and convenience of the passen- 
 gers already entered rather than grjsp at too many. 
 A ship from Liverpool, the Ballot, bringing a cargo 
 of the primest steam coal to Mr. William Evans, our 
 enterprising fellow citizen, arrived in the harbor. — 
 Her anchor was scarcely dropped when the cargo 
 ■was purchased by the agent of Mr. Lever, Mr. W. 
 H. Butler, and the vessel was hauled alongside the 
 Albert, and the coals shipped for her outward voy- 
 age. Yesterday Captain Waters and Captain Thomp- 
 son were engaged in seeing to the shipment of water 
 and stores in abundant supply, and it is now cer- 
 tain that when the Blue Peter is hoisted at the fore 
 on the afiemoon of Tuesday ne.xt, the Prince Albert 
 will be in as good trim, as well filled, as well found, 
 and as well regulated, in every respect, as any first- 
 class ship that ever crossed the Atlantic, from the 
 shores of Great Britain. — [Galway Vindicator, Sep- 
 tember 18th. 
 
 ' No Irish need Apply.' — Words, dear fellow- 
 countrymen, taken from the foot of English adver- 
 tisements, and published for the information of such 
 Irishmen or women as may be seeking for employ- 
 ment in England — spoken and published while Irish 
 soldiers are getting -killed and maimed in foreign 
 lands in the service of England, and while English- 
 men are fattening and rioting on the property of 
 
 the Irish people, 'No Irish need apply,' say the 
 English advertisement for small employments, and 
 where the letter is not written the spirit is acted on. 
 Amongst the people of Ireland, we are sorry to 
 say, there are some who, though born and bred on 
 the soil, have never felt one indignant heart-trob at 
 the reading of such words. They always fancied 
 somehow or other tliat they were not included in 
 the insult, they fancied it was only the poor 'Papists' 
 that were objects of antipathy in England, they felt 
 certain that ' enlightened Protestants ' would be al 
 ways welcome, even though they should have been 
 nursed in the very greenest of the green fields of 
 Ireland ; but they were mistaken. On them, too 
 lay the English insult, on them, too, aye even 
 though they should have on the very blackest of 
 black coats, and the very whitest of white neckties, 
 and have in their hands the very largest of English 
 bibles — on them, too, did the English people spit 
 every time they used the words, ' No Irish need 
 apply.' 
 
 A very fair proof has been given in the followin 
 advertisement taken from the columns of the saintly 
 Record : — 
 
 ' Wanted immediatedly, a curate of decided piety, 
 and possessing a missionary spirit, to assist the Vicar 
 of a very populous parish in the diocess of Lichfield 
 A title can be given. No Irish need apply. Address 
 (prepaid) S. J., Ivy House, Penn Road, Woli 
 hampton.' 
 
 To us this would seem a very hard hit, but prob- 
 ably the Irish curates and their folks accept it as a 
 particular favor. We believe they would take much 
 more of the same class sf article without complaint 
 they are too busy pitching into the ' Romanists ' to 
 heed a hiss and a few kicks from their English mas- 
 ters. — [Nation. 
 
 DuNBRODY Abbey. — We have received an account 
 of the last meeting of the Kilkenny and south-east 
 of Ireland Archieological Society, by which it ap- 
 pears that the correspondence between Mr. Knox 
 (Lord Templemore's agent) and the Rev. James 
 Greaves (honorable secretary of the society) was 
 under consideration. The society having turned 
 their attention to the ruins of Dunbrody, brought it 
 before Lord Templemore, and his lordship directed 
 his agent to say that he would give £100 towards 
 repairing the abbey, if a certain antique seal in the 
 possession of Captain Alcock, of Wilton, were hand- 
 ed over to him. The Rev. Mr. Greaves procured 
 the seal from Captain Alcock, and wrote to Mr. 
 Knox that he was ready to carry out the agreement 
 proposed, but Mr. Knox raised objections, and after 
 considerable delay, and some sharp letter-writing, 
 the seal was returned by Mr. Greaves to Captain 
 Alcock. The society passed a resolution approving 
 the conduct of Mr. Greaves in the transaction. — 
 [Wexford People. 
 
 Encouragement to Recruiting. — The mother of 
 two brave young fellows now in the 18th Royal 
 Irish in India, and with it in the whole of the ser- 
 vice which the regiment has gone through, was 
 obliged to beg twopence on Monday last in this city 
 to release a letter which reached the Post Office, ad- 
 dressed to her by one of her sone. She has children 
 at home dependent upon her. She is a woman of 
 excellent character and the best habits. She would 
 not be in want if her two sons were with her. She 
 has the gratification now, after a long interval, of 
 knowing they live. But the recompense she receives 
 from the British Government, by which the 'bravery 
 and glory of our army,' is vaunted, medals and rib- 
 bons and crosses dispensed to it — a relief fund in- 
 voked—and tributes and thanks formerly offered, is 
 what? — the liberty to beg.— [Munster News. 
 
 O.NE nuNijREfi artillery are encamped at Glastoon 
 (Kingstown), employed in mounting guns on the 
 Dublin Martcllo towers. 
 
 TuREE officers of Dublin garison compromised 
 for £15 to prevent legal proceedings, for armoying 
 respectable females at Dalkey. 
 
 prance. 
 
 Prince Napoleon gave a grand dinner at the Palais 
 Royal to General MacMahon, and the superior 
 functionaries of the department of Algeria, to some 
 political and literary personages, and to several 
 chiefs. " 
 
 The following is from the Gazette de France : — 
 
 'Whenever the French have been able to attempt 
 the boarding of an English man-of-war they have taken 
 it. In consequence, in the construction of vessels, 
 English builders have endeavored to render boarding 
 more difficult, by making them larger below than 
 above, so as that there may be a considerable distance 
 between the gunwales of the rival vessels. If a mari- 
 time war were to break out, the military superiority of 
 France would necessarily give her the advantage over 
 England, who has no soldiers, and who cannot find 
 enough to re-conquer India, the empire which has be- 
 come necessary not only to her commerce but to the 
 maintainance of her consiitution. We would make 
 war on sea as on land. We would tuke her liners in 
 double quick time, as we do redoubts and entrenched 
 camps. A battalion of Zouaves or Chasseurs de Vin- 
 cennes, thrown on to a three decker, would soon be 
 masters of her, and at the end <jf the war we could 
 reckon up the number of liae-of-battle ships which 
 each country would possess. Boarding is what would 
 decide the question ol preponderence between the two 
 nations ; and that is so much the French way of making 
 war, that, at the very beginning of the conflict, Eng- 
 land herself might easily be taken by the boarding of 
 our heroic soldiers. We examine these hypothesis, 
 not to embitter our neighborly relations with England, 
 or to menace and humiliate oui allies, but to show 
 them that a rupture on their part would be sheer mad- 
 ness ; to prove also that it is an established fact in 
 politics that the best means of consolidating peace is 
 to demonstrate to those who may be tempted to trou- 
 ble it, the impossibility of susiaining a conflict with an 
 equality of chances, which is the least that can be- 
 hoped for in war. Our readers will therefore find, in 
 the considerations which precede, an addiiional reason 
 for entertaining confidence in the duration of peace.' 
 
 A Paris letter in the Nord of Brussels has the fol- 
 lowing : — Lord Palmerston, during the last days of his 
 residence at Paris, saw more than once Lord Stratford 
 de Redcliffe, Lord Cowley, Lord Howden, Baron de 
 Rothschild, and M. Thiers. M. Thiers came up from 
 his retreat at Franconville, where he is completing the 
 last two volumes of his history of the Empire, to see 
 ihe ex-minisier. At one of their meeting at the Hotel 
 Bristol, Lord Stratford de Redcliffe was present, and 
 the conversation having turned ou the state of Turkey; 
 M. Thiers asked Lord Palmerston if he thought the 
 'sick man' was about to die. The English statesman 
 replied, according to his custom, by pleasantry — 'I was 
 one day walking in the streets of London,' said he, 
 'when a person told me that my pocket handkerchief 
 was hanging out of my pocket, and that I should lose 
 it ! Thank you, sir, I answered, but I believe that un- 
 less some one pulls it out, it will not fall ! Well, 
 Turkey is in the same position — if she be not thrown 
 down she will, I am convinced, maintain herself per- 
 fectly !' 
 
 An order has been given by the French government 
 for si.x new screw frigates, of 900horse power each, 
 two to be built at Rochcfort, two at L'Orient, and two 
 at some other port, each to be 'blinche' or 'cuirasse,' 
 as the term goes, with plates of polished steel, each 
 weighing twenty-two cwt., five feet in length, two and 
 a half feet in breadth, at a cost of .£57 each plate ; 
 these plates are to be inserted between the planks of 
 every part of the frigates above high water mark, and 
 will render them impervious to shot and shell. The 
 iron hail storm will pour down on them in vain, 'im- 
 pavidum jactantur.' Steel shot have been fired at the 
 plates from short and long ranges in the Polygon at 
 Vincennes, and they have sustained less injury than 
 Ichabod Crane when the ghost threw its head at him 
 in Sleepy Hollow. 
 
 A new kind of man-of-war is constructing at Cher- 
 bourg, to be called the Battering Ram. 
 
142 
 
 IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 (Abreviatcd from the Loudon Slar.l 
 THE OLD IRISH CHURCH. 
 
 The reputation and accuracy of Dr. Merle D'Au- 
 bigiie as a historiuii arc very seriously questioned, 
 ill a volume which kas appeared from the pen of a 
 learned lady of Dublin,* and whicl^has been writ- 
 ten not only with a view to oppose some of his con- 
 clusions respecting the early Uritish Church, but to 
 show how far the church, wliich existed in Ireland 
 in the first few centuries of the Christian era, dili'er- 
 cd from churches which exist now, and how little 
 its real character and history are understood and 
 appreciated. Mrs. Webb, the writer to whom we 
 refer, proves tliat Dr. D'Aubigne has made a great 
 historical blunder respecting the country of the an- 
 cient Scots, assuming that it was Xorth Britain and 
 not Uibcmia, and that through this blunder he has 
 been led to act with apparent injustice towards Ire- 
 laud. 
 
 In exposing the fallicies of Dr. D'Aubigne, we 
 cannot help thinking that Mrs. Webb assumes a too 
 hi-'h position for that writer. His volumes have 
 been eagerly read, very much quoted, apd upon the 
 whole have furnished much entertainment to a wide 
 circle of readers in England ; but they are evidently 
 too parlizan to take rank as dignified and reliable 
 history. The true historian, anxious only for the 
 display of facts, should like the naturalist or the 
 translator of language, as much as possible confine 
 himself to the explication of what lies before his 
 eyes, and should certainly never go to work aa a 
 barrister would do with his brief, or the leader of a 
 party with his dissertation, the one only being anx- 
 ious to support his client, and the other to uphold 
 foregone conclusions. Dr. D'Aubigne penned his- 
 tory for the sake of defending the Protestant reli- 
 gion, and only for that end, and the consequence is, 
 ■what we see in Mrs. Webb's Annotations, that he 
 put aside that which did not serve his purpose. It 
 is clearly the duty of Dr. D'.\ubigne to revise his 
 sketch of the Early British Church, if not to write 
 a new one altogether. 
 
 Leaving Dr. D'Aubigne and his errors, we will 
 now call attention to some uf the interesting histori- 
 cal illustrations which Mrs. Webb supplies of the 
 doctrines and operations of that old Irish Church, 
 ■with which St- Patrick and St. Gallas were associ- 
 ated. The Church of Home, notwithstanding all 
 Mrs. M'ebb has written, may still claim the Irish 
 Church which existed previous to the uUith century 
 as her own, and, if so, we can only say that the 
 Church of Home will thereby only rise higher in 
 the public estimation. In the first place, the anno- 
 tations before us show that, as members of this 
 Irish institution were placed by the Carlovingian 
 munarchs of Europe, and during a brief period of 
 literary revival, in the most important positions, 
 such as the principals of univeroities, the seminaries 
 in which these men were educated must necessarily 
 have been vastly superior in literature, science, and 
 philosophy to what they have been generally repre- 
 sented. Mrs. Webb endeavors to prove, on the au- 
 thority of ancient continental writing, that the 
 founder of the University of Paris was an Irishman 
 under the patronage of Charlemagne. 
 
 Indeed, she not only mentions that Claude of 
 Turin was an Irishman, but also that the founder of 
 the University of Pavia, the chief Italian school of 
 that age, was his fellow-countryman who went over 
 with him to France in the year o92.t The philo- 
 
 •AnDOtations on Dr. D'Aubigne's Sketch of the Early 
 Britub Cburcb, witb an Essay on tbe Introiluction of Al- 
 pbabetical Writing into Ireland. By M. Webb, Wertheim 
 and Hackintosb. 
 
 lApropos to this, Mr. Savape has an interesting note in 
 his popular 'Ninety-Eight and Forty-Eigbl.- He cava : Its 
 (Ireland's) tcholars bad been the school-founders and pre- 
 ceptors of Europe. To have studied in Ireland, like Alfred 
 the Great and Wiliibrord the iiorthuinbriau— who, says 
 Alcuiue (a famous Saxon writer and correspondent of .Eri- 
 gena, quoted by Anderson,) 'studied twelve years in Ire- 
 land, under masters of high reputation, being intended for 
 
 sophical researches and the profound insight of such 
 Irish scholars us Virgilius, who in the eight century 
 wrote on the rotundity of the earth, and of Erigcna, 
 who, in the ninth century, was the founder of scho- 
 lastic theology in continental seminaries, are adduc- 
 ed, by the writer, along with others, to prove that 
 neither the learning of the Irish schools, nor the 
 principles of the Irish Church have been faithfully 
 represented. As an illustration of the speculations 
 of the Irish philosophers of these times, we may 
 mention a curious fact relative to Erigcna, namely, 
 that one thousand years before the appearance of 
 Br. Gall, the phrenologist, this Irish churchman 
 had not only conceived a phrenologicol system, but 
 had gone so far with it as to map out the human 
 functions on the human cranium. It is said a copy 
 of Erigena's craniological chart will be found either 
 at Oxford or Cambridge. It certainly would be 
 worth the search, not to aid the phrenologists, for 
 that may be a matter of no importance, but as evi- 
 dence of the extent to which an old church were al- 
 lowed to carry their speculations. 
 
 With respect to St. Patrick, our authoress fi-xes 
 the present French town of Bonneval, in the depart- 
 ment of Eure de Loire, as his birth-place, and, after 
 following him to Ireland, she quotes from his tradi- 
 tionary ' confession ' to show the simplicity of his 
 manners, the apostolicity of his creed, and the earn- 
 est missionary zeal he displayed. After St. Patrick 
 came the celebrated Columba, or Columbkille, and 
 the manners and principles of Christianity in that 
 age are exhibited by a characteristic incident. The 
 tyrant Diarmid ruled over a province, and, excited 
 by his oppression, Columba undertook to pray when 
 a battle became inevitable, that the enemies of the 
 prince might triumph. They did so, but the Church 
 declared that Columba, in taking any part or lot in 
 war contentions, had violated the precepts of the 
 Son of God, and there was mourning and grief on 
 that account. In the days of Columbanus there was 
 an incident of much the same kind, ^\"hen he 
 resided in Switzerland, a war had broken out be- 
 tween Thierry and Theodobert. Thierry was the 
 common enemy of the Church and of the principles 
 of justice, and Columbanus was solicited to pray for 
 the success of Theodobert. 'No,' replied the priest, 
 ' for that is contrary to the spirit of our religion, 
 seeing we are commanded to pray for our enemies.' 
 
 King Thierry once appeared at the threshold of 
 his monastic or educational establishment, attended 
 with several followers, and for the purpose of forci- 
 ble entry to discover what was going on. Colum- 
 banus, however, terrified the intruder out of his 
 wits, by the exclamation, ' King Thierry, know 
 that if you seek to violate the discipline here estab- 
 lished, you stand out in defiance of God and his ser- 
 vants, and I tell you that your kingdom shall be 
 destroyed, and with it all your royal race.' 
 
 To the Annotations is appended an essay on the 
 Introduction of Alphabetic Writing into Ireland, 
 which contains come singular deductions from re- 
 markable facts that bear on the authenticity of an- 
 cient Pagan chronicles. It is an essay to which the 
 attention should be directed of those who take an 
 interest in the history of Irish literature, or in the 
 enthology of European nations. 
 
 a preaclier to many people,' was one o( the greatest recom- 
 mendations ol Cbristianity as well as learning. The Latin 
 and Greek o) the Irish was famed, and Erigena even trans- 
 lated one ol Aristotle's works into Chaldaic and Arabic as 
 well as Latin. In the two earliest schools of learning in 
 Europe, I'aris and I'avia, were tbe celebrated Irish scholars, 
 Clcmeut and Albin.' 
 
 Trail of the Menapii, In 'Ninety-Eight and Forty- 
 Eight,' &o Bj John Savage. New York: Kedlield. 1856. 
 There is an evident confounding of Claude and Clement. 
 Mrs. Webb no donbl alludes to to the Claudius (a contem- 
 porary ol Clement,) among other tbiugs is famous (or a 
 comm'culiiry on Gaiulians (which wu.- prmted,) and a work 
 ou .MullheH. uhich is in the i.ritisli Muteu.n. In the ' His- 
 torical Sketche.- of the Ancient Irish," Alcuine, the instruc- 
 tor of Charlemagne, is the aulhonty given lor Clement's 
 presence at I'aris. At all events it is admitted that an Irish- 
 man, whether Claudius or Clement, was a chief instructor, 
 if not the founder of the Univerfiity of Faria. 
 
 - VAR OUS ITEMS. 
 
 Why arc sheep the most dissipated and unfortu- 
 nate of animals ? Because they gambol In their 
 youth, frequent the turf, arc very often black-legs, 
 and are universally fleeced. 
 
 Bemi's, a spruce young man from the city, "was 
 riding out into the country a few days since, with 
 his ' gal," and as the sun was hot, he stopped under 
 the shade of a tree to let his horse breathe. The 
 ' skeeters ' were very thick, and Bemus, thinking to 
 have a little fun, called to a farmer at work in the 
 field : ' Hallo, sir ; ' what do you feed your mus- 
 quitoes on r' ' We feed 'em on little city fellers and 
 bosses.' Bemus whipped up. 
 
 'John did you ever bet on a horse-race?' 'No, 
 but I've seen my sister Bet on an old mare.' 
 
 Lies are hiltless swords, which cut the hands that 
 wield them. 
 
 One of the best looking girls in a certain semi- 
 nary is a red-headed girl from Vermont. Out of 
 compliment to her hair, they call her ' the torch of 
 love.' Rather more poetic than romplimentary. 
 
 A POOR son of the Emerald Isle applied for em- 
 ployment to an avaricious hunks, ivho told him he 
 employed no Irishmen : ' For the last one died on 
 my hands, and I was forced to burv' him at my own 
 charge.' 'Ah, your honor,' said Pat, brightening 
 up, ' an' is that all ? Then you'd give me the place, 
 for sure I can get a certificate that 1 never died in 
 the employ of any master I iver served.' 
 
 Perhaps men are the most imitative animals in 
 all the world of Nature. Only one ass spoke like a 
 man, but hundreds of thousands of men are daily 
 imitating him. 
 
 Were it not for the tears that fill our eyes, what 
 an ocean would fill our hearts ! 
 
 Some one has defined an editor as a poor fellow 
 who empties his brains to fill his stomach. 
 
 You seem to walk more erect than usual, my 
 friend.' ' Yes, I have been straightened by circum- 
 stances." 
 
 When you go to drown yourself, always put oflf 
 your clothes ; they may fit your wife's second hus- 
 band. 
 
 The last rain showed one ludicrous sight — an at- 
 tempt to crowd two fashionably dressed women un- 
 der one umbrella. 
 
 HusinoLT tells us that he met, one day, in his 
 travels, with a naked Indian, who had painted his 
 body so as to represent a blue jacket and trowsera 
 with black buttons. 
 
 A merchant lately advertised for a clerk ' -who 
 would bear confinement.' He received an answer 
 from one who had been seven years in jail. 
 
 ' I'd have you to know, Mrs. Stoker, that my un- 
 cle was a banister of the law.' ' A fig for your 
 banister,' retorted Mrs. Grumly, turning up her 
 nose, ' haven't I a cousin as is a corridor in the 
 navy ?' 
 
 'Ah, doctaw,|does thecholerawawfect thehighaw 
 awda r' asked an exquisite of a celebrated physician 
 in New Orleans. ' No,' replied the doctor, ' but 
 it's death on fools, and you'd better leave the city 
 immediately.' The fellow sloped. 
 
 ' PoMPEY, ■why is a journey round dis world like 
 a cat's tail?' ' Well, Culf, I doesn't 'zackly see any 
 semblance 'twix de two cases.' 'Well, den, nigger, 
 I 'spec I'll hab to tell you. Bekase it am fur to the 
 end of it.' 
 
 DiGGS saw a note lying on the ground, but knew 
 that it was a counterfeit, and ^walked on without 
 picking it up. He told Smithers the story, when 
 the latter said, 'Do you know, Diggs, that you have 
 committed a very grave offence ?' ' A\'hy, what have 
 I done ?' ' Y'ou have passed a counterfeit bill, know- 
 ing it to be such,' said Smithers, without a smile, and 
 fled. 
 
 1 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 143 
 
 ADVEBTISEMENTS 
 
 W. J. HENNESSY, 
 
 ARTIST, 
 
 No. 37 FRANKLIN STREET, 
 
 NEW YORK CITY. 
 
 FRANCIS GODFREY, 
 
 IMPOETEE AND RESTORER OF 
 
 ITALIAN PAINTINGS, 
 
 AND MANUFACTURER OF GILT FRAMES, 
 
 12 Fn^iNKLiN Street, Boston. 
 
 CT* Engravings, Lithographs, Crayons, &c., o„ sale 
 Sm aug28 
 
 MERCANTILE AND WRITING SCHOOL, 
 
 E. J. GLEESON, Masteii. 
 
 This School is now opened at No. 23 Portland Street, 
 a few doors south of Dooley's Exchange Hotel, where a 
 select and limited number of the Youth of both sexes will 
 be admitted; timefrom9A. M. to 12 M., and from 2 P. M 
 to 5 P. M. 
 
 TERMS MODERATE. 
 
 EVENING SCHOOL! 
 
 This school will be opened in the same place on the first 
 evening of next month, where adults and those of riper 
 years, will be carefully and assiduously instructed iu the 
 various branches of learning-, suitable to their calling. 
 
 BOOK-KEEPING : 
 
 Mr. Gleeson ventures to say, and pledges himself without 
 hesitation, that he will qualify young gentlemen for the 
 Counting Room, in half the time that is consumed in simi- 
 lar inetitutions iu this city, and at considerable less ex- 
 pense. 
 
 August 17th, 1858. aug28 
 
 FINE READY MADE CLOTHING 
 
 SPKING OVERCOATS, 
 
 BUSINESS COATS, 
 
 F-ROCK AND DRESS COATS, 
 
 PANTS AND VESTS, 
 Good, Stylish, Well Made Garments, 
 Sach as men of taste and good judgment will wear, can at 
 all times be found at our store. 
 Our aim is to produce for our customers the best Ready 
 Made Garments at the lowest possible prices for 
 CASH. 
 
 Readers of this Journal are earnestly solicited to exam- 
 ine our goods before purchasing. 
 
 J W. SMITH & CO., 
 
 Dock Square, corker Elm: Street. 
 my 11 tf 
 
 GENERAL TICKET OFFICE 
 
 — for THE — 
 
 S O UTHE RN AN D WESTERN STATES 
 
 THE CAN AD AS, 
 No. 2 Albant Street, Boston. 
 
 EDWARD RYAN, Agent. 
 
 N. B.— Passage to and from Liverpool, and Bills of Ex- 
 change on England, Ireland and Scotland. 
 
 ap24 ly 
 
 NORTHERN HOUSE, 
 
 NORTH SQUARE — BOSTON. 
 
 JOHN CLANCY Proprietor. 
 
 This House has rooms equal to any first class Hotel, and 
 permanent or tranttient Boarders can be accommodated 
 nearly one half cheaper than at any other House in the 
 City. 
 
 In the Reading Room can be found all the morning and 
 evening papers, and periodicals of the day, together with 
 an extensive Library, for the free and exclusive use ot 
 the Boarders. 
 
 N. B. Strangers visiting Boston, can always find this 
 House a Home. 
 
 Gy^JJP^/'^ SALEM QUADRILLE BAND. E. UP- 
 TON, Jr., Prompter. Apply to P. 8. Gilmore, Ea- 
 Nx Hoaw, Aaljuc, Uam. Sm feblS 
 
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 $1 for SIX months, payable invariably in advance. 
 
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 THE IRISH TROUBLES OF 1848, 
 
 With their Causes and Consequences, 
 
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 DO'ROUKKE, respectfully informs his friends and the 
 • public, that he keeps constantly on hand COFFINS 
 of all sizes and kinds, at his Coffin Manufactory, No. 347 
 Federal, between Beach and Kneeland Streets, Boston, 
 which he will sell as reasonable as can be bought at any oth- 
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 desiriup to send for their friends, or remit money, would 
 d-o well to K've him a call at No. 4 Gohham St.. opposite 
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 mation does not generally happen in one case out ol a hun- 
 dred. Our enterprise, being of a nature entirely different 
 from that of any other Irish paper heretofore established 
 in this country — requiring a much greater expenditure of 
 capital and artistic talent— caused us serious misgivings, 
 and a constant fear that it would not meet the denires and 
 expectations of our patrons. How far our efforts have been 
 successful, is for them to decide; but we trust that it will 
 not be considered egotistical on our part when we assert 
 that the Miscellany has far exceeded the most sanguine ex- 
 pectations of partial friends, and that even those who have 
 been enemies from the start have made suitable acknowl- 
 edgment of its merit. 
 
 Since we have had the control of the Miscellany our way 
 has not been — 
 
 'The primrose path of dalliance ' 
 
 We have been beset by obstacles innumerable; but having 
 a strong confidence in our ultimate success, we were deter- 
 mined to surmount all barriers, and though we have not, 
 as yet, brought the paper to that pitch of perfection which 
 is our desire, we trust soon to make it as acceptable as is 
 possible to our readers. 
 
 In beginning a new volume, we introduce various inno- 
 vations, tending to tlie improvement of the paper, in 
 every way that is possible. We shall give each week, an 
 epitome of Irish news— not the hacknied local quotations 
 which interest only the few, but extracts from the leading 
 journals, which will be gratifying to the many. In this 
 respect, we will not be following iu the steps of any of our 
 contemporaries, but, on the contrary, will be striking out 
 a path eminently our own. It will also be our aim to give 
 the best class of wood engravings which can be procured, 
 portraying national subjects, and, as our outlay in this re- 
 spect will be infinitely largerthan that of any Irish journal 
 published in this country, we look for a commensurate re- 
 turn. In short, it is our irteution to make the paper meet 
 the requirements of all classes of readers. 
 
 As an inducement, therefore, to new subscribers, we offer 
 to each person who will pay one years' subscription in ad- 
 vance, commencing with the first number of the firbt 
 volume, (not the second, as inadvertantly stated in previous 
 numbers,) directly to us or through any of our authorized 
 local or travelling agents, a copy of our first Gift Picture, 
 representing Sarsfield's Surprise of the Seige Train of the 
 Prince of Orange. When completed, each volume of the 
 Miscellany will form a book of four hundred and six- 
 teen (416) pages, and will alone be worth the price of an 
 entire year's subscription. The same inducements are offer- 
 ad to clubs, as to single subscribers. 
 
 CLUBS! CLUBSII CLUBS!!! 
 
 There is no town or village so small, but a club of six or 
 more subscribers for the Irish Miscellany can be easily ob- 
 tained. Will those of our friends who are well-wishers oi 
 rhe land of their birth, do us the favor of getting up Clubs. 
 Our terms will be — 
 To aclub of six persons sent to one address, S10,00 
 
 To a club of twelve, 19.00 
 
 The whole of the money must invariably be sent at one 
 remittance, and in advance. 
 
 In addition to this great reduction of price, each member 
 of a Club will be entitled to copies of all our splendid GiJft 
 Pictures. Let our friends exert themselves, and by their 
 patronage make the Miscellany the foremost Irish journa 
 on this continent. 
 
 TRAVELLING AGENTS WANTED. 
 
 We have determiued to appoint a number of Travelling 
 Agents, to travel iu the various States of the Union and 
 canvass for subscribers for this paper We do this at the 
 earnest request of many warm friends, who think we do 
 not take the requisite steps to make the paper known as ex- 
 tensively as it ought to be. 
 
 Persons desirous of becoming Travelling Agents, who 
 can be well recommended, are requested to apply at our 
 office lorthwith. None hut faithful, reliable men need ap- 
 ply. To such a liberal commission will be allowed. Apply 
 at ourPublicution Office, 4 Water street, Boston. 
 
 Back Nitmbeus of the Miscellany, from the commence 
 meut of the paper, may be procured through any of our 
 regular agents, or by seuding direct to the office of publi 
 cation. No. 4 Water street, Boston. Will our Iriends 
 want bear this foot In mind? 
 
144 
 
 IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 Thb Galway STEAMKns.— We respectfully coU 
 attention to the advertisement of Nazro Uros. 
 & Sweonoy, who arc the agents for the New York 
 and Gahvay line of ateamcrs in Boston ; and, we 
 have no doubt, will be the agents for the Boston and 
 Galway line, when all the arrangements for that en- 
 terprise have been fully completed. In doing so, 
 •wo plainly and positively tell our fellow country- 
 men that it is for their interest as well as their duty 
 to give this undertaking all the support in their 
 power. The miseries and vices of the emigrant 
 ship arc henceforth abolished, and instead of want 
 and ship-fever, where, ten chances to one, the sick 
 died, and were thrown overboard, and the unsus- 
 pecting maiden was lured to destruction, there will 
 be room, cleanliness, health, proper food, order and 
 religious services, to say nothing of the shorter sea 
 voyage, being londed in Ireland instead of England, 
 where they were subject to land-sharks and every 
 indignity, and al.so subject to a second voyage by 
 sea, upon the deck of a channel-steamer back to 
 their own country, which they had already passed 
 Mr. Lever does not attempt to hide the object 
 which has led him to this new undertaking— not 
 Irish patriotism, but to make money— yet he will 
 be much pleased if it benefits Ireland. He has look- 
 ed at the w hole subject, obstacles and all, and feels 
 satisfied that the business will pay. The most of 
 his passengers being Catholics, he will have on board 
 each vessel a Catholio clergyman, who will act as 
 chaplain. Now, if with Mr. Lever, it is a great busi- 
 ness transaction, surely, with us, it should certainly 
 be more than interest — patriotism. To Ireland it is 
 a chance for redemption, infusing a new hope, a 
 new life, a new inspiration, which is well calculated 
 to lead to the greatest results. In next week's pa- 
 per we may have some remarks to offer on Ire- 
 land's resources ; in the meantime, asking every 
 Irishman to aid the • Galway line ' for which Nazro 
 Bros, and Sweeney, No 5 Chatham Row, are the 
 Boston agents, we lend ourselves to the undertak- 
 ing, as we consider it the best means "for the per- 
 manent uplifting and vindication of Ireland, and her 
 ability as a manufacting, agricultural, and commer- 
 cial nation. 
 
 Loss OF THE Steamship Austuia. — We feel it a 
 melancholy duty, indeed, to note the loss of this 
 steamship, by which about five hundred human be- 
 ings met a terrible fate. Our limited space does not 
 permit us to give the statements of the rescued pas- 
 sengers. 
 
 The barque Lotus arrived at Halifax on the 26th 
 ult. with 12 of the 67 passengers who were saved 
 from the steamer Austria, which was burnt at sea 
 on the 13th ult. The passengers report that a little 
 after 2 o'clock, in the afternoon of the 13th, a dense 
 ■volume of smoke burst from the after entrance of 
 the steerage. The speed of the steamer was instantly 
 slackened one half, at which speed she continued 
 until the magazine exploded, when the engineers, it 
 is supposed, were instantly suffocated. The fire next 
 burst through the lights amidships, and then trav- 
 eled aft with fearful rapidity. 
 
 A boat let down on the port side was instantly 
 crushed; another on the siarboord side was swamped 
 Dy the number who rushed into it. All of the first 
 cabin passengers who were on the poop, excepting 
 a few gentleman, must have been smothered in tlie 
 smoking room. Many persons from the second 
 cabin were also on the poop, but a number were 
 shut up in the cabin by the fire. Some were pulled 
 up through veniilators, but a great number perished. 
 The last woman who was drawn up said that six 
 ■were already suffocated. Several men and women 
 on the poop jumped into the sea by twos and threes. 
 The clothes on some of the women were already in 
 flames; others hesitated till they were driven into 
 the sea at the last moment by the advancing flames. 
 In half an hour not a soul was left on the poop. 
 
 AMUSEMENTS. I 
 
 Fiin.AV, Oct. 1, 1858. 
 
 Mrs. Ilayne still continues at the 'Bofton,' and 
 appears nightly in one of her favorite characters. 
 She is well supported by Mr. Barry's excellent 
 company; this is her last week. She will be suc- 
 ceeded by the ItaUan Opera and that by Mr. Bur- 
 ton of New York, the celebrated low comedian. 
 All persons who love a hearty laugh had better im- 
 prove this opportunity of seeing that gentleman ; he 
 does not often condescend to visit villages. 
 
 At the 'Howard,' Mr. Cooper's Opera Troupe are 
 giving English versions of the principal Italian 
 Operas. Miss Milner sings sweetly, but acts indif- 
 ferently. Mr. (JiUmetto both sings and acts finely. 
 Mr. Miranda is occasionally acceptable in his parts. 
 The other members of his company do not deserve 
 much notice. 
 
 At the 'Museum,' Miss Eliza Logan is delighting 
 crowded houses every evening. She has not, in our 
 humble opinion, a superior on the American stage, 
 in some of her parts. We were delighted some years 
 since with the ability displayed by this lady when 
 we first saw her. We promise the readers of the 
 Miecellany that they will not regret spending an 
 evening at the Museum during Miss Logan's engage- 
 ment. 
 
 At the 'National,' Mr. & Mrs. Chanfrau are the 
 'cards,' and never fail to delight the North-enders. 
 
 Mr. Ordway's 'bill of fare' for amusement-seekers 
 is good. 
 
 ASVEBTISBUBITTa. 
 
 OLD COLONY HOUSE. 
 
 PATUICK HOLLY beffs leave to ami 
 ronii uiitl llii.. iiuLlic K>MK'ntllv Unit lie 
 ou linud lit liin uld mill ui'll-kiiuvvii Miiiiil. 
 
 ? to tils pat- 
 conHtautly 
 
 THE OLD COLONY HOUSE, 
 
 CORNER OF KNEELAND AND SOUTH STREETS, 
 
 A CnOICK AS80RTMKST OF 
 
 BRANDIES, WINES, SCOTCH & IRISH 
 
 WHISKEY, CIGARS, &o. fcc, 
 
 oil of the very flmt quality, which can be obtained too at 
 
 LOWER RATES 
 
 than elsewhere In the iiiiirket; in proof of which he invltea 
 purchaserd to give him a cull. aag 28 
 
 Mr. James Sullivan, our zealous travelling agent, 
 will be in Connecticut on business for the Miscel- 
 lany this week, and we trust our friends there will 
 receive him with a hearty welcome. 
 
 STEAM TO ALL PARTS OF GREAT BRITAIN 
 
 — VIA THE — 
 
 ATLANTIC nOYAL MAIL STEAMSHIP COS 
 
 NEW YORK AND GALWAY LINE. 
 
 rriHIS is the shortest route between Europe and Amer- 
 .■ . composed of powerful and fust fail- 
 
 JL ica. The I 
 ing steamship: 
 
 rrequ 
 
 ofhcei-ed, and lurnished 
 nder the voyage safe and agreeable. 
 New York lor Galway will be as fol- 
 
 The departures fro 
 
 lyws, uutil further nonce, viz:— 
 
 I'UINCE ALBEKT, T. J. Waters Thursday, Oct. 16. 
 
 INDIAN EMI'lltIi, E. Courtenay Thursday, Oct. 28. 
 
 I'ACIFIC, William C. Thompson Thursday, Nov. U. 
 
 Persons visiting Ireland reach their destination in three- 
 fourths the time taken by any other route, and all have an 
 opportunity ol visiting places and scenery of unrivalled in- 
 terest in Ireland. 
 
 Price ofiiiissnge, including free tickets by the usual rail- 
 road routes from Galway to any of the principal cities ol 
 Great Britain, at the following reduced rates:— First class 
 S9fl. second doss S60, third class S.30. 
 
 Those wishing to bring their friends to this country can 
 purchase tickets for their passage in third class from Gal- 
 wav at S80, or from other cities in Great Britain, accessible 
 bv railroad, 538. A liberal cabin table will be provided, 
 aiiil cooked provisions for third class passengers to and 
 from Galway. 
 
 Eor freight and passage and further particulars apply to 
 the undersigned, at their offices, Nos. 01 Hudson street, 
 corner of .lav, and 64 Broadway. Application lor freight 
 and passage inay also be made at any of the offices of the 
 company on theirexpress routes, or to NAZKOBUOTUEKS 
 & SWEliNEY', No. 5 Chatham Row, Boston. 
 
 AMERICAN EXrilESS CO., Consignees. 
 aLEX. KOLLAND, Manager. 
 
 New York, Sept. 30. tf 
 
 SOUTH END CATHOLIC BOOK. STORE, 
 
 And Depot for the Sale of the 
 
 METROPOLITAN AND YOUTHS' MAGAZINES. 
 
 WILLIAM KEATING, AOKKT, 
 
 8 1-2 Harrison Avenue, or at his New Periodical Store, 176 
 
 Harrison Avenue, Boston. Mass., 
 
 Where a great variety of the most popular Books and 
 
 Papers cam be had at the very lowest prices, 
 
 WILL supply Clubs, Agents, Cauva.ssers, «tc.. on the 
 same terms as the Publishers. The following are 
 the terms— ^ copies will be sent by mall, to one address, lor 
 one vear SG ; fi copies for SIO ; 13 copies for S20 ; 20 copies 
 for S30. 
 
 C?" On the receipt of S3, three copies of the Catholic 
 Youth's Magazine and one copy of the Metropolitan will 
 be m.iiled regularly lor one year. 
 
 \Cf A few sets of the Magazines from the beginning, can 
 be had of the Agent. Also, all new books furuislied as 
 soon as published. ap24 3mo8 
 
 P . MORRIS, 
 
 APOTHECARY, 
 
 Corner of Federal and Purchase streets, foot of Summer 
 
 street, Boston. 
 
 STRICT personal attention paid to compounding Physi 
 clan's Prescriptions. A choice selection of Kamil}^ 
 
 Medicines constantly on hand. 
 
 fcnuiiie imported Perfumery ai 
 Vaterwith choice Svrups. Ala 
 Havana Segors constantly on liai 
 
 lected stock of 
 Fancy Goods. Soda 
 assortment of genuine 
 ap5 
 
 W^ 
 
 CATHOLIC BOOK STORE. 
 
 ILLIAM HICKEY', Catholic Bookseller, and Agent 
 for the Extensive Publishing House of U. & J. 
 Sadlieii & Co., of New York. 
 The latest and most varied stock of Religious Prints, 
 MISSALS, PRAYER BOOKS. CROSSES, 
 and all the Current Literature, couslautly on hand. 
 
 No. 128 Fedeual (couner of Williams) street, 
 BOSTON, MASS. 
 
 TEN READY WAYS TO MAKE MONEY, being ten 
 original receipts for the manufacture of useful arti- 
 cles, which command a itiiicksalc, and insure a full pocket. 
 Formerly sold for S5: but now sent to ony person for one 
 gold dollar. Address T L. KEILLY, I'eace Dale, R. I. 
 
 LAWRENCE BRIGADE BANU, J. Desmond, Lead- 
 er. Arc prepared to furnish Music for ililitary and 
 Civic Parades. Pic-Nics, Festivals, &c. Also, a (luadrillc 
 Band furnished, if desired. Address J. Desmond, care of 
 Rev. J. O'Dounell, Lawrence, Mass. 
 
 OUR AGENTS. 
 
 Boston —John J. Dver, & Co.. 85 School street; A. Wil- 
 liams & Co., 100 Washington street: Fedheien & Co., 9 ond 
 13 Court street; Wm. Uickey, 128 Federal street; Howe & 
 Co., 11 Court Avenue; and William Keating, 176 Harrison 
 Avenue, 
 
 Bangor, Me —Edward J. Kelleher. 
 
 New York.— Dexter & Brother, 14 & 16 Ann street. 
 
 Troy, N. Y. — Francis Roark. 
 
 Philadelphia.— A. Winch, 320 Chestnut street. 
 
 Ohio — M. H. Bird, Cincinnati, and Hawks & Brother!, 
 Cleaveland. 
 
 Detroit. Mich— J. A. Roys. 
 
 St. Louis, Missouri. — Thomas Dupgan. 
 
 New Orleans, La.— James M. Shine. 
 
 The Misr.rUani/ may also be had, retail, of newspaper and 
 periodical dealers tliroughout the country. 
 
 tratellinq agents. 
 John Warren, 60 Andover street, lor Boston and vicinity. 
 James Dovie, of Millburv. Mass. M. Findlay McKay, 
 ofAmesbuVv. Mai.s. Edward H. Kieiian, ol North Ferris- 
 burg, Vt. Michael F. Hackett. of Providence. It. I. James 
 SulRvan. of New Haven, Ct. Robert Crowe, of Brooklyn, 
 N. Y'. James Cullen, of West Troy, N. Y. Daniel A. Bros- 
 uau, of I'liiladelphia, Pa. 
 
 «•-• • — 
 
 RATES OF ADVERTISING. 
 
 FOR EACH SgUARE OP TWELVE LINES. 
 
 First inseHio 81.00 I Three mouths, . . 86.00 
 
 Each 6Ubsei|Ucnt do 60 ] One year, .... 16.00 
 
 Six lines or less constitute half a square. 
 
 Larger advei-tisenients charged in proportion. 
 
 Businesj 
 
 per line. 
 
 BUSINESS CARDS op blx lines or less. 
 
 For On Month, . . . S1.50 I Six Months, . . . M.OO 
 
 Three Mouths, . . . S3.00 1 One Year, .... 88.00 
 
 •.•All advertisements payable in advance. 
 
 THE 
 
 IRISH MISCELLANY 
 
 Is published weekly, and devoted to the interests and vin- 
 dication of the Irish people throughout the world. 
 
 The MiiceUany republishes each week one whole number 
 ol the old ' Dublin Penny Journal,' with original and 
 selected essays, reviews, poelr)-, &c., by Irishmen, of tirst- ' 
 rate ability. It also contains beautiful Pictorial Illustra- 
 tions of Irish scenery and other objects of interest, among ' 
 which may be enumerated engravings ol the ancient cas- 
 tles ond round towers, the ruins of the old churches, the 
 plundered monasteries, convents ond abbeys of Ireland. 
 
 It will also contain correct Pictorial representations 01 
 works of art executed by Irishmen ol the preseut day, as 
 well as in former times, in this country and throughout 
 Europe. 
 
 T»BM8.— $2,00 per year, invariably in advance. 
 WALSH & CO. PROPRIETORS, 
 
 No. 4 Water Street, Boston, Mass. 
 
VOLUME 2— NUMBER 36.] 
 
 BOSTON, SATURDAY, OCTOBER 16, 1858. 
 
 [PRICE FOUR CENTS 
 
 THE ABBEY OF HOLY CROSS. I Eurl of Morion, to all justices, barons, &c., as well 
 
 This magnificent rain, which is j;enerally considered j French as English, Welsh and Irish, and all other 
 
 as one of the finest remains of the pointed style of liege men of Ireland, greeting — Know ye that, for the 
 
 architecture in Ireland, is situated on the river Suir, 
 about two miles below Thurles, in the county of Tip- 
 perary. It was originally founded in the year 1182, 
 for Cistercian monks, by Donald O'Brien, Kinjr of 
 Limerick, and not by his son, Donagh Cairbreach, as 
 stated by Archdall, Ledwich, Goagh, and other com- 
 pilers, as may be seen from the foundation charter, 
 which still exists, and is given at length in the Monas- 
 
 love of God, and for the salvation of my own, and the 
 souls (if my predecessors and successors, I have grant- 
 ed and given, and by these presents do grant and give, 
 to God and the blessed Miry of the Holy Cross, and 
 to the Christian monks serving Giid there, in free, 
 pure and perpetual alms, the underwritten lands, as 
 fully and freely as Donald O'Brien, King of Limerick, 
 gave and granted, and by his charter confirmed, to the 
 
 ticon Anglicanum, beginning thus : — ' Donald, by the Cistercian monks of the Holy Cross, to wit: Kelkater- 
 
 grace of God, King of Limerick, to all kings, dukes, 
 earls, barons, knights, and Christians of whatever de- 
 gree throughout Ireland, perpetual greeting in Christ.' 
 This charter is signed by Christian, Bishop of Lis- 
 more, Legate of the Holy See in Ireland, Maurice, 
 
 laraunu, Ballydubal, Ballyidugin, Ballygirryr, Bally- 
 mvolttobin, Ballj-theloth, Gardath, Ballaschelagh, 
 Ballythoughal, and Ithologin. These lands I have 
 given f jr the salvation of my soul, and those of my 
 predecessors and successors, and for the souls of my 
 
 Archbishop of Cashel, and Britius, Bishop of Limer- soldiers who lie theie. To en'oy peaceably, with all 
 
 ick. According to Mr. O'Halloran, in his "Introdnc- liberties and free customs, without any secular exac- 
 tion to the History and Antiquities of Ireland,' the tions, in fields, ways, forests, fisheries, &c , I have also 
 
 abbey was erected in honor of a piece of the true cross, j granted that they shall be free from all mulcts in ray 
 
 which Pope Pascil II., about the year ^ : 
 
 1110, sent as a present to Mnrtough 
 
 monarch of Ireland, and which was 
 
 covered with gold and set with precious 
 
 stones. A present of this kind was 
 
 made to one of the Munster Kin,;s b' 
 
 the Papal See, as we have notices m 
 
 our annals of the same period of prts 
 
 ents to some of the other Pro\incial 
 
 Kings of Ireland of pieces of the cross 
 
 and it is certain that a relic of tins des 
 
 cription has been preserved with re\er 
 
 ence in this abbey from a very reraotu 
 
 period, and exists even to this dav 
 
 On this account, as it appears, it w is 
 
 trom its very foundation endowed with 
 
 peculiar privileges and very extensive 
 possessions, and the original charter of 
 the founder was confirmed, in 11 86, by 
 King John, during his visit to Iitland, 
 as appears by the following record — 
 ' Edward, by the grace of God, King 
 of England, Lord of Ireland, Duki. ol 
 Aquitain, to all to whom these prf.ents 
 come greeting. Know yc that brotliir 
 Thomas, abbot of the church of Mary 
 of the Holy Cross, near Cashel came 
 into our Chancery of Ireland the day 
 after the feast of Michael the Arch- 
 angel, io the 13th year of our reign, at 
 Cashel, and exhibited in our said 
 Chancery a certain charter not can- 
 celled, nor in any respects vitiatid, un- 
 der the seal of John, formerly Lord of 
 Ireland and Earl of Morton, in these 
 words : — 'John, Lord of Inland and 
 
 TirE ABBEY OF lloLV Cii06. 
 
 courts, for what cause soever they sh ill be amerced, 
 and also free of all toll whatever; they shall also sell 
 or buy, for their own use, throughout my land of Nor- 
 mandy, England, Wales and Ireland ; and that their 
 lands be not put in plevine. Witnesses — A., Bishop 
 of Ferns ; John de Courcey, de Angulo, Riddell, 
 Chrtncellor, and David of Wales.'" 
 
 The charter of John was also confirmed by King 
 Henry III , in 1223, who, on the 30th of September, 
 took this house under his royal protection, and renewed 
 that protection in 1224, and subsequently, as we have 
 already stated, by King Edward HI., in 1320, and by 
 King Richard II., in 1395. 
 
 In a general chapter of the order, in 1249, the abbey 
 was subjected by the Abbot of Clairvaux to that of 
 Furness, in Lancashire. 
 
 This abbey is said to have been a daughter of the 
 abbey of Nenagh, or Maig, in the county of Limerick ; 
 and the abbot, who was a baron of parliament, was 
 styled Earl of Holy Cross, the lands of the abbey be- 
 ing an earldom, distinguished by the name of the 
 
14G 
 
 IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 Connty of the Holy Cross of Tippcrary, nnd wliicli 
 crjoyeJ, us Camilon informs us, ' pcoulinr privileges, 
 in honor of n pioie of our Lord's cros-s formerly ki-pt 
 there.' He was also usually VioarGeneral of the Cis- 
 tercian order in Ireland. 
 
 William O'Uwyer was the first abbot; and in the 
 fifth year of the reign of Elisabeih, the abbey and ils 
 extensive posse.<sions were jjranted to Thoma.s (not 
 Gerald, as Archdall and Ledwiih state), Earl of Or- 
 mond, 'in lapiie,' at the annual rem uf i."li 10s 4d. 
 
 It appears from Camden, and other writers, that tlic 
 crowd of persons who ihronjjid to this alihey, from 
 reverenee to the holy relic preserved there, was incred- 
 ible ; nor were these persons exclusively of the lower 
 or middle ranks of society, but imludid the greatest 
 nobility of the land. In IJG'J, the great O'Neil made 
 a pilgrimage here, as did one of the Desmonds in 
 1579. 
 
 Wo have already stated that this ideiUical piece of 
 the cross still exi~ts. It is in the hands of the IJoman 
 Catholic dcrpy of the place, and is described by 
 Doctor Milner as being about two inches and a half 
 loug, and about half an inch broad, but very thin. It 
 is inserted in the lower shaft of an archiepi>copal 
 cross, made of some curious wood, and inclo-ed in a 
 gilt case. The doctor also says that tliis rel.c was 
 preserved from sacrilege in the reign of Henry Vlll. 
 by the Ormond family, and by them transmitted to the 
 family of Kavenagh, a surviving descendant of which 
 deposited it in the hands of its present keepers. 
 
 The architecture of the building was the most beau- 
 tiful Gothic then in use, consequently, as its erection 
 was nearly coeval with the AiitiloNorman invasion, 
 and the founder was evidently Irish, it afTbrds another 
 proof of the progress which Gothic architecture had 
 made in Ireland previous to the age of Henry II. The 
 groins and vaultings of that portion which is still roof- 
 ed have an air of elegance that nothing can exteed, so 
 that the contrast they present makes the beholder 
 keenly regret the dilapidations to which it had once 
 been subjected. 
 
 Its very ruins, which to this day occupy a con- 
 siderable space, evince the former greatness of this 
 celebrated establishment. Its steeple, supported by an 
 immense Gothic arch, with ogives springing diagonally 
 from the angles, has been greatly esteemed. The 
 choir is forty-nine feet broad, and fifty-eight long, with 
 lateral aisles. On the south side of the choir are two 
 chapels, intersected by a double row of Gothic arches, 
 and on the north side are two other chapels, finished 
 in the same style as the former. 
 
 The architecture of the nave is inferior to that of the 
 transepts, choir, and tower, which is supported on 
 cither side by a beautiful Gothic arch ; the roof is 
 groined and pierced with five holes, to admit of the 
 passage of the bell ropes. The two transepts are also 
 groined, and each is divided into two chapels, one of 
 which contains the baptismal fonts and an altar-tomb, 
 now in a state of decay, probably the tomb of the 
 founder. This chapel was lighted by a window of 
 very curious design. 
 
 In the choir are two rich monumental relics, of a 
 very original and gloomy style of architecture, a 
 cut and description of which we will give in a future 
 number of the Miscellany. 
 
 When one of Ireland's oppressed sons, wearied with 
 his day's labor, stops at eventide to contemplate the 
 ruins of the old abbey, other personages occupy his 
 Ihonghts. On these stones, which the sinking sun is 
 gradually leaving in darkness, he reads a whole history 
 of foreign oppression, of civil wars, of defeat and 
 misery. An O'Brien founded the church, probably 
 one of the descendants of that old King of Munster, 
 Biian Boru, celebrated in song as Brian the Brave, 
 who, abandoned by the other kings, accompanied by 
 bis five sons, his grandson, his fifteen nephews, and all 
 his faithful followers, met the Danes on the plains of 
 Clontarf, and drove them back to their vessels, after a 
 bloody engagement, in which the valiant old Kinn, 
 then ninety years of age, together with his bravest 
 ■oQS, and the flower of his clan, was clain. 
 
 ' A LEGEND OF BALLVLEBANE CASTLE. 
 
 At Ballylcbnne, upon the biub road lending from 
 Athy to L'astlcconier, there stands, or stood a few 
 years ago, the ruins of a small castle belonging to 
 the Ilovcndcn family. Time had not spared it, and 
 little remained to assist conjecture as to its former 
 figure or extent ; only a few feet of mouldering 
 wall, or bare foundation, marked the .'■ituation of 
 the inner square tower, or keep ; while all the outer 
 fortifications, with the exception of a shattered 
 Hanking turret, built over a deep draw-well, hud 
 entirely disappeared. The local traditions say, that 
 Owen Roe, enraged at the death of a favorite piper, 
 whom the Uovendens shot as he was sitting on top 
 of a baggage-cart, had [stormed the castle, and re- 
 duced it, with dreadful slaught- r of its defenders, 
 to this state of desolation ; be this as it may, it is 
 certain that, somehow or other, it fell into a ruinous 
 condition, and was deserted by the Uovendens, who 
 pulkd most of it down in order to build a dwelling- 
 house upon the site. 
 
 The Hovendcns are descended from one of those 
 seven adventurers, who obtained such extensive 
 giants of lands in the Queen's County, from Sir 
 Henry Sydney, after the bloody and treacherous 
 mas.sacro at Mullaghmast, in l.^T?, where ihe pro- 
 prietors were nearly all slain. The original founders 
 of these seven tribes, as they have been called, may 
 be taken as the very type of the early English set- 
 tler in Ireland. Conscious that they were held in 
 utter abhorrence by the native Irish, who still be- 
 lieve that none of their dcscendcnts ever lived to see 
 his eldest son attain the age of twenty-one, they 
 maintained a pei'petual war with, and oppressed 
 them by every means in their power. All the cruel- 
 ties that the most diabolical invention could sug- 
 gest were hourly perpetrated upon the wretehcd 
 and unarmed people around ; the blood actually 
 freezes with horror at the mere recital of the crimes 
 committed by Cosby, wlio met his fate from the 
 O'Byrncs, at Glondaloiigh, by Bowcn, whom young 
 O'Moore, the sole survivor of Mullaghamast, shot at 
 his eastle-gate, or, by Hartpole, whose memory isto 
 this day held in such detestation, that, when his 
 monumental effigy was accidentally found in Car- 
 low, a few years ago, it was dragged through the 
 streets by the populace, and thrown, with every 
 mark of indignity, into a quarry-hole near the pres- 
 ent court-house, and when this generation had 
 passed away, when their descendants could no 
 longer take the lives of the people by the sword, 
 and the English trooper had slowly merged into the 
 Irish landlord, they became grinding rack-renters 
 and heartless exterminators ; proud, ignorant, ra- 
 pacious, and besotted, they plunged headlong into 
 the wildest career of wickedness and dissipation. 
 The Hovendens, if they never imitated the others 
 in their earlier barbarities, seemed fully determined 
 upon rivalling them in their latter extravagance. 
 Ballylebane Castle, if we may believe tradition, ex- 
 hibited an unchanging scene of drunken riotings for 
 years together; acre after acre passed from their 
 hands — frittered away, as well from the demands of 
 their mortgages as from the expenses of a continuous 
 litigation between whole hosts of spurious claimants 
 to the property (the Hovendens, somehow or other, 
 never having been great admirers of the holy state 
 of matrimony,^ until, at length, they, who once 
 lorded it over all from -the Barrow to the Dincrn, 
 dwindled down to the impoverished masters of three 
 or four townlands. 
 
 Gradually, as the property became more and more 
 subdivided, they deserted Ballj'lebane, and erected 
 a number of houses, with tall, narrow windows and 
 high gable-ends, in various pans of the country. 
 The castle consequently fell into ruin, and was held 
 in great disrepute by the country people generally, 
 as much on account of its lonely situation, and the 
 unholy lives of its former proprietors, as because it 
 was currently believed to be inhabited by several 
 
 ghosts, and by ' the spirit ' of one hard-drinking, 
 fox-hunting llovenden in particular, who was 
 known, in his old age, by the name of Daddy Jack. 
 It is with it in this stage of its existence that we 
 have to do at present. 
 
 On a winter's evening, in the year 18 — , thcrewas 
 assembled in Ned Murphy's house a large circlt; of 
 his friends and acquaintuncc, who had met to con- 
 gratulate with him on the joyful occa'-ion of the 
 christening of his first son. Ned declared he was 
 the hapjiTt'st of mortals. The company in general 
 did not appear to labor under any depression of 
 spirits, but seemed bent upon doiig ample justice 
 to the good things which, in the exuberance of his 
 joy, he placed before them so plentifully. Xed was, 
 in the eyes of his neighbors, a rich man ; he had ten 
 acres of land, well tilled and well stocked ; his rent 
 was paid to the day, and it was reported that he had 
 money in the bank ; he remained a bachelor so long 
 'that half the girls of the parish gave him up in des- 
 pair, when suddi nly he took a trip down the county 
 Carlow, and, after u fortnight's absence, came back 
 a Benedict. He was a round, dapper little fellow, 
 with a roguish, laughter-loving black eye, in perfect 
 keeping with the expression of dry humor perpetu- 
 ally Hitting around the corners of his mouth. On 
 this night, however, all was evidently not right ; a 
 vague shadow of uneasiness that crosses his face oc- 
 casionally, with a furtive glance at the door now 
 and then, showed that he apprehended some unwel- 
 come visitation. Kcport stated that he was the most 
 obedient of hus'.ands, in other words, that he was 
 dreadfully licnpeeked ; his wife had the reputation 
 of being a money-maker, or skin-flint, and it was 
 even said that she kept the honest man upon short- 
 commons occasionally. Hence his alarm, for, how- 
 ever improbable, still he dreaded lest she might pay 
 him a visit every moment ; when he had matters his 
 own way he had determined 'to do the thing dacent 
 for wanse.' 
 
 Nevertheless, not without some misgivings as to 
 the result, when ' the misthress ' should come to 
 hear of his extravagance, still he strove to conceal 
 his nervousness, and, with the help of a few stiff 
 dandies of Cassidy's best, partially succeeded. 
 
 But whatever anxiety honest Ned might feel, his 
 guests seemed to be no way alarmed as to the con- 
 sequences of his indiscretion. Never were people 
 better disposed for enjoying themselves ; as the glass 
 circulated freely, the laugh, the joke, the quaint 
 burst ol humor, and the racy anecdote, showered 
 merrily arouild. By-and-by, Matty Fahy's appear- 
 ance with the pipes was greeted uproarously, and 
 the room was immediately cleared up for a dance. 
 Light hearts and glorious strains ye were made for 
 each other ! Sure, never did mortal piper play so 
 sweetly! And, whilst the young, with nimble feet, 
 thus kept time to Matty's soul-stirring music, the 
 old yielded themselves up to enjoyments more tran- 
 quil, but not less dear. Some looked on at the 
 merry dance, now chiding, now reproving, kindling 
 now with the contagious spirit of the moment, and 
 enthusiastically beating time to some old favorite 
 air, while ever and again reverting back, with a 
 sweet melancholy, to those long-past, well-remem- 
 bered times, when, at evening's close, they too were 
 summoned to like festivities by the same delightful 
 strain. But the greater number thronged round the 
 fire, gravely discussing the fate of the weather, the 
 last harvest, the stirring politics of the day, and a 
 thousand other such topics. Gradually the conver- 
 sation takes another turn. The loud hum of many 
 voices is stilled, while all are bending forward in 
 attitudes of eager attention, as they listen to some 
 story or other that Jack Farrell — the greatest 'shan- 
 ahus' in all Slievemarigue — is telling. Subdued 
 sounds of admiration and astonishment burst forth 
 occasionally — at these times his voice assumes a 
 deeper tone, and his gestures become more ener- 
 getical. 
 
 J 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 147 
 
 Jack 19 a strange character. Originally a gar- 
 dener, he is now a self-taught mason ; and in the 
 various ramblings, incidental to his new vocation, 
 has cultivated an extensive acquaintance with the 
 old walls and older traditions of the neighborhood. 
 He is profoundly skilled in prophecies, and, I be- 
 lieve, entertains no doubt as to the authenticity of 
 them all. He knows as much about records as a 
 college of heralds — it is even reported that he has all 
 the tomb-stones in the parish by heart. As a proof 
 of his skill in genealogies, he has publislied his own 
 pedigree, in which, with what justice does not ex- 
 actly appear, he claims descent from Patrick Sars- 
 field, the chivalrous Earl of Lucan, and from the 
 O'Moores of Leix. In consequence, he has long 
 since repudiated the vulgar name of Jack Farrell, 
 and, at the time of the late census, was, by his own 
 request, enrolled among the rest of her Majesty's 
 subjects, under the name, style, and title of John 
 Sarsfield Moore O'Favrell. Nevertheless, I am sorry 
 to state, that this claim of his,however well-founded, 
 is as yet far from being generally acknowledged ; 
 while some evil-minded persons, irritated, I sup- 
 pose, at the results of certain inquisitive propensi- 
 ties which he occasionally manifests, have strangely 
 perverted it into Sarch-field Farrell. 
 
 Now, before introducing him more close ly to our 
 readers, it may be as well to premise that his accu- 
 racy as to dates or occurrences is not always un- 
 questionable. His stories generally, indeed, have 
 some foundation in fact ; but so much of the mar- 
 vellous has, in process of time, been mixed up with 
 the reality, that it is now impossible to distinguish 
 between them. Bearing this caution in mind, how- 
 ever, we may now safely return to the chimney- 
 corner, where we left him flourishing away a little 
 while ago. 
 
 He had just concluded, in his own felicitous way, 
 what he was pleased to term a historical account of 
 the causes which led to the erection of Cobler's 
 Castle, a nondescript ruin near Stradbally, and was 
 drinking in, with gratified ear, the long murmur of 
 wonder and applause that greeted the peroration, 
 when Larry Doolan exclaimed : 
 
 'Why, thin, Misther Farrell, it's yourself, long life 
 to you, that has a power of fine stories, anyhow ! 
 An' talkin' iv these ould, anshient places now, did 
 any iv yiz, boj's, ever hear him tell about this one 
 here above in Ballylebane ? Lord presarve us ! 
 there's a dale iv spirit in it.' 
 
 Jack shook his head sloivly, as he replied: 'I 
 often hard th' ould man sayin' that, barrin' the rock 
 ov Punamase itself, there was no place in the whole 
 counthry to aiqual it in the regard iv the quare 
 noises by night. Troth, I have stories about the 
 same that id make the hair stan' on yer heads wid 
 pure fright, stout as many iv yiz think yerselves.' 
 
 ' Lord save us and bless us !' ejaculated Larry, 
 ' it's they that wor the terrible wicked set, I'm sure. 
 I was often tould that there was acthilly no ind to 
 the dhrinking', an' swearin', an' fox-huntin', an' 
 ballyraggin' iv all soorts that used to be there. 
 Eegor they must have been shockin' rich to hould it 
 out so I'^ng.' 
 
 ' K.ich,' said Jack. ' Faix, you may say that, 
 ' alanna !' -^rrah! did none of yiz ever hear how 
 one iv em kem back from the wars in a grand coach, 
 wid six grey horses, and the world's ind of goold in 
 the boot ? It's he that was the rale divil, too ! 
 Nothing a'most was too hot for him. Such atin' 
 an' dhrinken' never was seen as was in his time, an' 
 he was able to use as much tin himself. Begor, he 
 had the right sort of an appeytite, an' no wondher 
 ayther! Many's the morning', whin he was out in 
 the wars, and aftlier fastin' for three or four days 
 together, maybe, that he'd have to sit down to take 
 his share iv an ould horse, an' be thankful to get 
 that same. Troth, I think the hunger iv thim times 
 never left his breast, especially the hardships he wint 
 through at the siege of Jerusalem. That was the 
 
 awfullest siege I ever hard till iv. I believe it hap- 
 pened a couple iv year afthcr the big frost. Such 
 thundenn' iv cannon, such murdhcr, or such con- 
 fusion, never was afore. He was shut up in the 
 town, while the Frinuh peppered away at the walls ; 
 but divil the much harm they were able to do thira, 
 they wor so desperate high an' strong ! Sum say it 
 was Boney himself that follied thim hot-foot from 
 Aygipt, but I'm iv the opinion that it happened 
 long afore his time. Ilow.suraever, Captain Hoven- 
 den was shut up inside, an' things soon began to run 
 mighty short. Min, wimmen, an' childer wor fam- 
 ishin' wid hunger, till they were ready to swally 
 one another a'most. Ev'ry ateable thing was soon 
 gone, an' at last yiz might see more given for a rat 
 or a mouse maybe, than id buy a pair iv bullocks 
 here. An' this was how the captain med the money. 
 His company was posted in a great ould barrack iv 
 a place, wid more undherground cellars, an' shores, 
 an' hidin'-places, than wor in all the rest iv the 
 town, an' the whole iv em wor swarmin' wid rots 
 an' mice ' galore.' So he set his thraps, an' inthired 
 into the purvision thrade. As he sowld his mar- 
 chandize a thrifle undher the market price, he soon 
 got wondherful call intircly. All the goold iv Jeru- 
 salem, an' the plate, an' the diamonds, wor powrin' 
 into him like hail, so that he was in a fair way of 
 makin' his forthin all in a slap, whin the guvenor 
 surrendhered, an' he was forced to go home wid his 
 ridgemint. 
 
 Well, my dears, he kem back in the greatest 
 splindhur, as rich as a Jew, an' he held his head as 
 high as any lord. Many said he was to be married 
 to th' Earl of Ossory's daughter ; an' so he would, 
 too, I believe, only she didn't fancy him much, be- 
 kase he was so yallow in the face after all the var- 
 min he e't at the siege. The goold was mostly in 
 great long bars, an' I'm tould, he med no more ov 
 one iv thim nor ov it was a lump iv coal, so that yiz 
 might see 'em lyin' about the castle in all directions. 
 He lived on in great pomp, every one, high an' low, 
 payin' their coort to him, in the hopesiv athumpin' 
 leo-acy, for he had nayther chick nor child of his 
 own. But faix he was able enough for thim all. 
 He knew well what they wor about, an' that it was 
 his money, not himself, they liked ; so he hid it 
 about the place everywhere — down in the draw-well 
 an' undher the foundations, an' in every hole an' 
 cranny he could think iv. Thin he run out one 
 mornin' in his shirt, roarin' 'millia murther,' an' 
 cryin" that the whitefeet wor after robbin' him of 
 every pinny in the world. Begor, there was a grate 
 change in his friends from that minit. He was in- 
 vited to a grand dinner at Bambrick's iv Maiden- 
 head for that very night, but whin they hard what 
 happened, they sint him word they wor sorry they 
 couldn't have the pleasure iv his company — Mrs. 
 Bambrick was so bad wid the toothache— and they 
 cut him dead at church nixt Sunday. A'most every 
 one did the same ; so he shut himself up in th' ould 
 castle, an' tuck to atin' an' dhrinkin' tin times as 
 hard as afore. No livin' man could stan' it long, 
 an' he dhropped down in a fit one mornin' while he 
 was swarin' at the sarvint boy for not havin' his 
 glass ready whin he called for it— so the saycret 
 died wid himself. All the goold iv Jerusalem, an' 
 all the plate, an' all the dimons, was hid no one 
 knew where, an' no one, barrin' he dhremt about it, 
 ever found a pinny to this day. There's not many, 
 to tell the thruth, id like to go nigh the place afthcr 
 nightfall ; but I know well that there's a dale ov it 
 down in the draw-well still, for wasn't there a silver 
 spoon found below in Ballynamurrougha well, an' 
 every one ov yiz knows there's an undherground 
 passage between 'em.' 
 
 'Begor, Misther Farrell,' said Larry Doolan, 'you 
 are right enough in that. Arrah, boys, look at uz 
 sthrivin' here, in could an' hardship, an' lashions iv 
 goold rottin' away down there, widout as much as 
 one to look at or pick it up. What'a to hinder uz 
 
 from makin' it our own?' ' Tut, tut, Larry,' re- 
 plied old Jack Lawlor, ' what's the use of talkin' in 
 that wild way ? The never resave the pinny iv it 
 nayther you nor any one else 'ill ever handle while 
 Daddy Jack has it undher his thumb. It's a shock- 
 ing place for speirits, the Lord be praised.' 
 
 'Faix !' answered Larry very stoutly, ' I wouldn't 
 fear man nor the divil, ov I was sure iv the money, 
 an' I think there's more iv uz so, too. AVhat do 
 you say, Misther Farrell f' 
 
 ' I'm afeard, Larry, that it's a bad job. How- 
 sumever, there's no use in talkin', the goold is in it, 
 and so are the sperrets ; but I often hard it said, 
 that whin nine or ten go together, they don't like to 
 face thim — especially ov all go in stout, lettin' on 
 not to care a 'thraneen about 'em.' 
 
 ' Well, boys, what 'ill yiz do !' said Larry. ' There 
 is enough in it for us all, and if yez wait till mornin', 
 it'll turn to slates upon us. So don't be faint hearied. 
 Faix, I think, we've all so much ot Misther Muiphy'a 
 irood sperrits inside of us — an' here's many happy days 
 to himself an' the little one — that we needn't stan' in 
 dhread iv any bad sperrits that may be outside. So 
 sind round the gl.iss, an' let us be oft' in God's name 1 
 Misther Farrell 'ill show huz where to sarch.' 
 
 Although ' Misther Farrell ' did not seem to relish 
 the proposal mucii, still, after privately rummaging the 
 cupboard for some preservative against evil spirits, he 
 o-ave his consent. Larry's eloquence, or the dread of 
 being esteemed cowards, induced nine or ten others to 
 volunteer, and it was resolved to set out upon the ex- 
 pidition instantly, much to the consternation of old 
 Jack Lawler, who looked upon tliem as doomed men. 
 The appearance of the night was certainly not calcu- 
 lated to renew their courage. It was pitchy dark; the 
 rain was falling in torrents, while a bitter cold wind 
 swept furiously along, Larry, however, who was be- 
 ginning to get rather uproarous, declared this to be just 
 the sort of a night that answered. 'For, boys, you 
 see.' cried he, ' it so mortial dark, that av there was a 
 dozen ghosts right forninst us now, the uuver as much 
 as one iv thim we'd be able to see !' 
 
 Few seemed to coincide with him in this opinion, 
 but appeared to be silently engaged in calculating the 
 probabilities of Daddy Jack, or some other equally 
 dreaded ' sperrit ' being lurking on every bush on the 
 way. A nearer approach to the castle did not tend to 
 allay their fears. Many actually began to meditate on 
 the possibility of effecting their retreat unobserved. 
 Nevertheless, desperation kept them together, and all 
 entered the old court-yard in silence. 
 
 Just then, a momentary gleam ofmoonlightrevealed 
 to them the figures of the twelve apostles, caivtd in 
 stone, which the Hovcndens, not for devotional pur- 
 poses, it may be well presumed, had, at some remote 
 period, built into the wall. This ' Misther 'Ferrell ' 
 hailed as a propitious omen. They at once fell to 
 work accordingly, and, under his directions, began to 
 clear away the rubbish from a ruinous archway, lead- 
 ing, as he assured them to the vaults. One of the 
 company was set to watch, lest any ' sperrit ' should 
 come on them unawares ; and, as every one, under a 
 great appearance of zeal, wished to be as much out of 
 the way of all apparitions as possible, such mutual 
 objargations as these might be heard on all sides : 
 
 ' Purshune to you Larry ! do you mane to throw the 
 wall o' top iv me i' " Oh, ' millia murther,' Tim 
 Darcy, my leg's just bruek wid you !' 'Misther Far- 
 rell, will you see how this vagabono Collier has me juBt 
 kilt !" 
 
 Nevertheless, the breach was at length reported 
 practicable, and ' Misther Farrell,' not without some 
 internal misgivings as to the preservative powers of the 
 holy-water he had taken with him from Ned Murphy's, 
 entered first, hearing his light in hand. The aspect of 
 the vault was not very inspiriting. It was large and 
 "loomy, with an indescribable feeling of dampness and 
 raouldlness about it — unpleasantly suggestive of the 
 presence of a couijle of ghosts at the least. Slowly, 
 therefore, and cautiousty, they followed, prepared to 
 retreat upon the least noise. There was no gold, how- 
 
148 
 
 imSH xMlSCELLANY. 
 
 ever, nor the appcarnnrc of any, and 'MisthcrFarreHV 
 heart sunk within him nx ho reflected that the spoils of 
 Jurnsalem must hnvu hcon hidden somewhere clae. 
 Suddenly, at the further end of tlie vault, he stumbles 
 upon somelhini;. Ileiivens ! it 8 a bar — Ion); and thick ! 
 and how clearly it ranj; upon the pavement just now. 
 
 Ah, gold '■ gold ! let no one say he cares not for thee, 
 until he has been tempted tisrt. But u moment ago, 
 and he vowed to share treasures untold with his com- 
 panions — now he dreams only of appropriating this 
 single bar. Mentally lie estimates its value, as it lies 
 before him — a thousand pounds at least — and resolves 
 10 live like a gentleman for the rest of his days. His 
 own hurried ghtnce alone marked it as yet. How 
 shall he hide it trom them forever I A happy thought 
 strikes bim. He lets the light fail, as if accidi ntaliy, 
 and placing the bar in his breast, shouts in an agonized 
 voice, ' Oh, Lord, presarveus ! here's Onddy Jack.' 
 
 The word was enough. With a yell ot de>pnir, that 
 will long be remembered in Ballylebane, all rushed to 
 the narrow entrance, battling, shrieking, and trampling 
 one another down, like a very incarnation of terror, 
 forced their way out. Down the steep hillside, bruised 
 and bloody, they broke away, nor paused till each, at 
 his ovm fireside, told in breathless haste, bow the 'sper- 
 ret' had chased him, how, as he lied lleeter than the 
 wind, it was agony to feel its fiery breath, growing 
 fiercer every moment, while he dared not look behind, 
 until, at his own door, it vanished in the most approved 
 manner, with a hideous howl, p>ile, blue flames, and a 
 strong sulphureous smell. Next morning a thousand 
 additional terrors were discovered, the fame of Daddy 
 Jack being wondrously increased thereby, until he was 
 universally dreaded by the whole parish as the most 
 formidable ' sperrit ' of whose :. pearance tliere is any 
 record in ancient or modem time. 
 
 To return to our friend ' Misther Pan-ell.' Chuck- 
 ling over the success of his stratagem, he bent his steps 
 homeward, rejoicing ; over the green fields of Coom- 
 beg, and by the pledsant hedge-rows of Castletown, he 
 sauntered along ; what delightful visions occupy his 
 soul. Poising the bar in his hand, he ponders whether 
 it will be more advisable for him to purchase an estate 
 or to invest it In the funds ; filled with their pleasing 
 cogitations he arrived at his own door. What can 
 have occurred ? Why tliis house is positively smaller 
 than when he last saw it, and he registers a vow to ex- 
 change his residence on the morrow. Rat-tat-tat-tat I 
 was there ever such a dignified nock as his .' Did ever 
 a bom gintleman pace his drawing-room more grace- 
 fully than John Sarsfield Moore U'Parrell walks up 
 and down, m silent though tfulness, upon his cabin- 
 floor? Old Rose can bear it no longer. 
 
 ' For shame ! you ould vagabone, what a time it is 
 for you to be out dhrinkin' an' gallivantin , disturbiu' 
 me from my night's rest, and showiu' sich example to 
 the childer.' 
 
 •Rose,' replied he, pompously, 'you should lam to 
 speak more grammatically ; your accent is shockm' 
 Tulgar, an' I'm afeard 'hat 1 must get the masther to 
 tache you for a long time afore I can bring you into 
 any soort iv dacent society ! why you'll moke a holy 
 show iv me afore the quality.' 
 
 ' Oh, you misforthunate ould man, its blinded wid 
 the dhrink you are, or gone cracked entirely ! Boys, 
 will yiz get up, an'hclp me to put your father to bed ? ' 
 
 ' Whist, woman ! an' look at that. Light a rush, 
 an' look at that bar iv goold — feel the weight iv that 
 yer sowl — there's sumthin' to be talkin' about.' 
 
 ' A bar iv goold, morriah ! ' said Rose, as she took 
 it in her hand, ' didn't 1 know, you old vagabone, 
 that you wor blinded wid the dhrink — musha, look 
 at what he calls a bar iv goold, a lump iv a rusty ould 
 crowbar.' 
 
 ' Misther Farrell ' got a lesson. He has not since 
 alluded to the siege of Jerusalem, though he was heard 
 to say ' that the sperrit gave him a shockin' mala- 
 Toguin in the vault.' Certain it is, that he appeared 
 in public next day, with his face in a woful state of 
 delapidation ; but we leave it to our readers to deter- 
 mine whether old Rose or Daddy Jack knows the most 
 about it. 
 
 A HAUNTED CHAMBER. 
 
 Give an Irish peasant, after the labors of the day, a 
 conil'orlal>le turf fire — place him around it with all the 
 young and old of his acipiaintances — let the tale of 
 ghost and goblin go around — let him listen to the gar- 
 rulity of old Hge, as it records the wondrous adven- 
 tures that happened while the bloom of youth were 
 yet upon its cheek, and lis will deem hiinstif ha)>picr 
 than the sons of the noble and the wealthy of the land, 
 for whom the proud mansion shines in splendid mag- 
 nificence, while the sounds of merriment and rivalry 
 re-echo through its halls. 
 
 No country ever abounded more in tales of the won- 
 derful than Ireland ; not a sod throughout its wide 
 extent that is not associated with the recollection ol 
 some preternatural occurrence. Walk with a peasant 
 through any part of the country, and this was the resi- 
 dence of a ghost — thtt was the abode of the fairies; here 
 a horrid murder had been committed, which accounts 
 for its being shunned by the weary traveller, and there 
 some faithless damsel had broken the plighted vow, 
 while even hence her whiie shaddowy form is seen to 
 glide in the moonlight across the green sward, which 
 .'lad been witness to her perfidy. Superstition is natu- 
 ral to man, and it has existed in all ages; it is strange, 
 however, that all nations, though characterised each by 
 a sort of superstition peculiar to themselves, yet agree 
 in one pointt, namely — a firm belief in the existence of 
 a mysierious connection between this and the world of 
 spirits. Philosophy m.iy endeavor to prove the fallacy 
 of such opinions, and no doubt can do so to a consid- 
 erable extent, but yet some regard must be paid to the 
 general concurrence of mankind, and in deference to it 
 'tis only fair to imagine that, at one period of the 
 world, the grave was not ' the bourne from which no 
 traveller returns,' but that the spirits of the dead have 
 been permitted to revisit the set ne of their early pil- 
 grimage. Ireland, however, the land of fay and of 
 fairies, of glen and of valley, peopled with strange and 
 incorporated beings, is more filled with wondrous 
 stories, that excite in us ' thoughts beyond the reach- 
 ing of our souls,' than any other country perhaps in 
 the world. After all, it may not be unprofitable that 
 such things should have been believed "in ; by means of 
 them semblances of its early national character have 
 been preserved, and a knowledge of the manners and 
 customs of its original inhabitants, which would 
 otherwise have been lost, has come down to us, lighted 
 through the dark vista of successive generations, by the 
 adventitous lustre of traditionary legends. The diflfusion 
 of Christianity now tends to we.iken and almost to 
 destroy our creduality, but nevertheless, it is pleasing 
 occasionally to lift the veil of oblivion, which time has 
 spread over the events of by-gone days, and view the 
 state of the human mind before the light of revelation 
 had spread its refulgence over the woild. 
 
 In the western part of Ireland stands a large and 
 beautiful castle, the residence of a very old and wealthy 
 family. It is finely and romantically situated ; all the 
 beauties of nature seemed to be clustered together in 
 rich profusion around it ; a large lake rolls its glossy 
 waters in front, thickly planted around with trees of all 
 kinds, which in some parts rearing their vast foliage to 
 a considerable height, are reflected back in sombre re- 
 lief from its clear and mirror like surface. Behind it, 
 at some distance, a long range of mountains, in some 
 parts thickly planted to their summits, rise in sublime 
 grandeur till they almost lose themselves in the clouds; 
 the castle itself, which has been lately rebuilt, except 
 one old ivy covered tower that has been allowed to 
 remain as evidence of its antiquity, is large, spacious, 
 and now embellished with all the beauties of modern 
 architecture. From parts of it may be seen the broad 
 sweep of the Atlantic, heaving along in majestic swell; 
 a spacious piazza in front, supported by massive mag- 
 nificent pillars of the Corinthian order, give it at first 
 view a dark and imposing appearance. Before the 
 castle was rebuilt, a large fissun. in the wall was very 
 remarkable, the more so, as, according to the story, it 
 could never be repaired. Frequent attempts have been 
 made, but all proved ineffectual ; the work went on 
 very well by day, but after the interval of ona night it 
 
 resumed its former appearance. Parties had often sat 
 up in order to discover the means by which such a 
 strange counteraction of the labor was cfl'ectcd — they 
 saw nothing, they heard nothing, and yet in the morn- 
 ing the same old crack was visible in the wall. The 
 reason that is given for it is this : — Some centuries be- 
 fore there was one room in the castle which was said 
 to ho haunted ; strange and confused noises had been 
 heard in it, till at last it was shut up and completely 
 deserted, no one willing to expose themselves to the 
 horrors which had been endured by those who had al- 
 ready ventured to sleep in it ; many daring persons 
 had made the experiment, and the account given by 
 them was truly wonderful. Some had the most fright- 
 ful and appalling dreams of bloodshed and murder, 
 which they saw perpetrated before them, while the bed 
 on which they lay was floating in a boundless sea of 
 blood, which was lit up by a blue sulphury light. — 
 Some imagined that they were to the top of a high 
 precipitous clilf, beneath which lay the infernal regions, 
 while by some unseen power they were plunged into 
 the fiery abyss below. Some thought that they were 
 conveyed to a dismal vault lined round with skeletons, 
 each holding a torch, which emitted a blue sulphurous 
 light, while a taper of the same kind seemed to cast its 
 horrid glare through the empty sockets of their eyes, 
 and oeeasionally they sent forth an unearthly laugh 
 that re-echoed through the vault. Others thonghtthat 
 they had seen the devil stalking through the room. It 
 was also remarked of all who had ever slept in the 
 room, that they never survived long, but generally 
 pined away without any apparent cause. The wonder- 
 ful events connected with this room spread far and 
 wide, and though it was now completely shut up, yet 
 the domestics were frequently frightened by the horrid 
 noises which proceeded from it. A belief existed in 
 those days that the devil had frequently selected par- 
 ticular places on earth, which he visited with his pres- 
 ence; such selection was generally supposed to indi- 
 cate that the place thus pitched upon had, at some 
 period, been the scene of some dreadful murder, or 
 other crime, by which it has been pointed, and it was 
 supposed that he could not be dispossessed of his thus 
 strangely acquired tenement, or the place itself freed 
 from its defiltment, except by some mysterious mode 
 of exorcism and subsequent purification, known only 
 to the priests, who never failed to prove the high 
 value which they set upon this secret knowledge! by 
 the exorbitancy of their demind whenever applied to 
 to exert their sacerdotal influence. In accordance 
 with this belief, a neighboring monk was applied to, 
 and when the terms, upon which he agreed to expel 
 the evil spirits were finally settled, he took up his resi- 
 dence at the house ; he went through a long and toil- 
 some ordeal of preparation, such as fasting, praying, 
 and other torts of penitential duties for some weeks. 
 At length, when the necessary preliminaries were ar- 
 ranged, he took up his night's abode in the room ; he 
 brought with him his missal, a pair of wax candles, 
 and a human skull ; what use he made of the skull 
 could never be discovered. On the first night nothing 
 remarkable happened ; on the second the noise was 
 long and more confused than usual ; on the third night, 
 which was to determine the event, the noises increased, 
 a dense body of smoke issued from the room, and to- 
 wards the approach of morning, a terrible crash, which 
 shook the house to its foundation, was heard, and the 
 priest came out exulting in his victory; the devil had 
 sprung through the wall and had caused the fissure,! 
 which never could be filled up while one stone of the| 
 old wall remained. The priest was handsomely re-' 
 warded, and the fame of the occurrence soon spread 
 over the kingdom ; long was the spot through which 
 the devil had escaped pointed out to the spectators. 
 The form of all, however, is now changedj; never since 
 have any noises been heard, and people sleep in it, for- 
 getful that even once it had been the scene of so extra- 
 ordinary an occurrence. 
 
 Foe every bad there might be a worse ; -when a 
 man breaks his leg, let him be thankful it was not 
 his neck. 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 149 
 
 THE GIANT'S CAUSEWAY. 
 
 la number 5, vol. I., wo guve an il- 
 lustration and sketcli of thj Giant's 
 Causeway, Ireland. VVo now present 
 our readers with tlireo more cuts and a 
 short skeich on the same subject. The 
 entrance to the causeway through the 
 Giant's Gateway is most imposiny. 
 Colonnades of perfectly-fjrmcd basal- 
 tic pillars rise up against the face of 
 the clirt' m apparently the greatest or- 
 der, and near it is the Lady's Chair, so 
 called from the fact that it is frequently 
 made use of as a seat by the fair visit 
 ors to the Causeway. Whether it pos- 
 sesses any of the virtues ascribed to it 
 we cannot say. Like the Giant's Well, 
 the erection of this far-famed stone is 
 partly the work of human hands. 
 
 The general elfect of the Causeway 
 on the mind of the visitor is one of awe 
 andsoleainity. ' What shall [ siy uf the C m^eway? ' 
 inquires Lord John Manners. ' There are three prom- 
 ontories running Into the sea on the level with the waves, 
 or nearly so, composed of upright blocks, of stone, 
 each, it may be, a yard in circumference, hexagonal, 
 pentagonal, octagonal, and one or two nonagonal in 
 shape ; some of the cliffs, too, are fluted in this man- 
 ner, with columns thirty feet high, resembling at a lit- 
 tle distance the pipes of an organ. A very steep and 
 narrow track took us from the Causeway to the sum- 
 mit of the cliffs — an ascent of about 300 feet, and a 
 walk of a couple of miles along their edge to the Pleas- 
 kin Rock. It rained furiously, so that it was only 
 now and then we could obtain a fair view of the dark 
 creeks, and bold rocks, and strange formations of 
 whinstone, which diversify this mvsterious coast.' 
 
 At short distances from the coast the sea is studded 
 with numerous small uninhabitable islands, and the 
 coast itself is intersected with many deep and solemn 
 looking caves, which can only be explored bv means 
 of boats. A rock called 'Sea-Gull Island,' from the 
 fact ot those birds frequenting it in vast numbers, lies 
 to the east of the Chimney Tops. This rock, proba- 
 bly, formed part of the mainland at some distant period 
 of time. The view seaward is grand indeed. 
 
 On the cliffs all round the coasts of Doncijal and 
 Antrim similar masses of columns are observable. 
 The pillars called the Chimney Tops are among the 
 most singular and remarkable phenomena belonging 
 to the Causeway. They are three in number, the 
 tallest standing upwards of torty feet from the face of 
 the cliff. These rocks, according to Mr. S. C. Hall, 
 were mistaken by the crew of a ship belonging to the 
 Spanish Armada for the chimneys of Dunluce Castle 
 and were fired upon accordingly. The story goes 
 that the giants, in revenge for the insult, huni' out 
 lights from the cliffs, whii;h so bewildered the ship's 
 crew that they fouled among the breakers, and were 
 lost on the coast. At any rate, there is a little bay 
 here called Port-na-Spania. 
 
 SEA-GULL ISLAND— GIANT'S CAUSEWAY. 
 
 In order to view the Causeway with effect, and to 
 enjoy its varied aspects, the artists and the true lovers 
 of nature will not be satisfied with one hasty view of it 
 and its surrounding wonders. They will contrive to 
 see it at sunrise, when the dawn first flings its kaleid- 
 escope tints on those myriad groups of columns ; also 
 at sunset, when the red light of departing day. alter- 
 nating with deep shadow, brings forth in beautiful re- 
 lief the outlines of each pillared mass ; and, loveliest of 
 all, when the summer moonlight flings its mystic lustre 
 over a scene surcharged with endless shapes of gran- 
 deur and sublimity. The Causeway, as a whole, can- 
 not, as already intimated, be properly seen or enjoyed 
 from the land- The tourist will have to embark in one 
 of the many well-manned and serviceable row-boats 
 which are always in waiting either at the Causeway 
 itself, or at the shore near the village of Eallinatory. 
 
 LADY'S CHAIR. 
 
 THE CHIMNEY SWALLOW. 
 
 The following curious account of a settlement of 
 chimney swallows we extract from ' An Account of 
 the Habits of the Birds of the United States,' by J. 
 Audubon, recently published : — 
 
 ' Immediaiely on my arrival at Louisville, in the 
 state of Kentucky, I became acquainted with the hos- 
 pitable and amiable Major William Crogban and his 
 family. While talking one day about birds, he asked 
 me if I had seen the trees in which the swallows were 
 supposed to spend the winter, but which they only en- 
 tered, he said, for the purpose of roosting. Answering 
 in the affirmitive, I was informed that on my way back 
 to town, there was a irce remarkable on account of ihe 
 immense numbers that resorted to it, and the place in 
 which it stood was described to me. I found it to be 
 a scyamore, nearly destitute of branches, sixty or 
 seventy feet high, between seven and eight feet in 
 diameter at the base, and about five for the distance of 
 forty feet up, where the stump of a broken hollowed 
 branch, about two feet in diameter, made out from the 
 main stem. This was the place at which the swal- 
 lows entered. On closely examining the tree, I found 
 it hard, but hollow to near the roots. It was now 
 about four o'clock in the aficrnoon, in the middle of 
 July. Swallows were flying over JefforsonviUe, and the 
 woods ar.jund, but there were none near the tree. I 
 proceeded home, and shortly after returned on foot. 
 The sun was going down behind the Silver Hills ; 
 thousands of swallows were flying closely above me, 
 and three or four at a time were pitching into the hole, 
 like bees hurrying into t;icir hive. I remained, my 
 head leaning on the tree, lis'cning to the roaring noise 
 made within by the birds as ihey settled and arranged 
 themselves, until it was quite dark, when I left the 
 place. I had scarcely returned to Louisville, when a 
 violent thunder storm passed suddenly over the town, 
 and its appearance made me think that the hurry of 
 the swallows to enter the tree was caused by this anx. 
 iely to avoid it. 
 
 Next morning, I rose early enough to reach the 
 place long before the appearance of daylight, and put 
 
 my head against the tree. All was 
 silent within. I remained in that pos- 
 ture probably twenty minutes, when 
 suddenly I ihoughl the great tree was 
 giving way, and coming down upon 
 me. Instinctively I sprung from it, 
 but when I looked up to it again what 
 Mas my astonishment to see it standing 
 'IS firm as ever. The swallows were 
 now pouring out in a black continued 
 stream. I ran back to my post and 
 j:.listcncd in am.izcment to Ihe noise 
 within, which I could compare tonoth- 
 ^ ing else than the sound of a large 
 !^^ wheel revolving under a powerful 
 l^J^ stream. It was yet dusky, so that I 
 5ii~^ could hardly see the hour on my watch, 
 but I estimated the time which they 
 took in getting out at more than thirty 
 minutes. After their departure no noise 
 was heard within, and they dispersed 
 in every direction. I immediately formed the project 
 to examine the interior of the tree, which, as Major 
 Croghan had told me, proved the most temarkable I 
 ever met with. This I did, in company with a hunt- 
 ing associate. We went provided with a strong line 
 and rope, and succeeded in throwing the line across 
 a broken branch. Fastening the rope to the line we 
 drew it up and pulled it over until it reached the 
 ground again. Provided with the longest cane we 
 could find, I mounted the tree by the rope, and at 
 length seated myself on the broken branch ; but my 
 labor was fruitless, for I could see nothing through 
 the hole, and the cane, which was about fifteen feet 
 long, touched nothing on the sides of the tree within 
 that could give any information. I came down, fa- 
 tigued and disappointed. The next day I hired a. 
 man, who cut a hole at the base of the tree. The 
 shell was only a few inches thick, and the axe soon 
 brought the inside to view, disclossing a matted mass 
 of exuviae, with rotten feathers, reduced to a kind 
 of mould, in which I could perceive fragments of in- 
 sects and quills. I made a passage through this. 
 mass. This operation took up a good deal of time, 
 and knowing that if the birds should notice it, they- 
 would abandon the tree, I had it carefully closed. 
 The swallows came as usual that night, and I did 
 not disturb them for several days. At last, provided 
 with a dark lantern, I went with my companion 
 about nine in the evening, determined to have a fuU 
 view of the interior of the tree. I scrambled up the 
 sides of the mass of exuviae, and my friend followed. 
 Slowly and gradually I brought the light of the lan- 
 tern to bear on the sides of the hole above us, when 
 we saw the swallows clinging side by side, covering 
 the whole surface of the excavation. In no instance 
 did) I see one above another. Satisfied with the 
 sight, I closed the lantern. We caught and killed 
 with as much care as possible more than a hundred, 
 stowing them away in our pockets and bosoms, and 
 slid down into the open air.' 
 
 GLAJ^TT'S GATE. 
 
150 
 
 IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 AN IRISH WAKE. 
 
 BY WILLIAM CAULETON. 
 
 I have often, indeed always, felt that there is 
 Bomelhing extremely toxiching in the Irish cry ; in 
 fact, that it breathes the very spirit of wild and nat- 
 ural sorrow. The Irish peasantry, whenever a 
 death takes place, are exceedingly happy in seizing 
 upon any contingent circumstances that may occur, 
 and making them subservient to the excitement of 
 grief for the departed, or the exultation and praise 
 of his character and virtues. 
 
 My entrance was a proof of this. I had scarcely 
 advanced to the middle of the floor, when my inti 
 
 about the moral constitution of the people of other 
 nations, giving them a morbid Imbit, which leaves 
 them neither .strength nor tirniness to resist calam- 
 ity, which they feel less keenly than an Irishman, 
 exactly as a healthy man will feel the pangs of 
 death with more acutencss than one who is wasted 
 away by debility and decay. 
 
 The Irishman seldom or never hangs himself, be- 
 cause he is capable of too much real feeling to per- 
 mit himself to become the slave of that which is fac- 
 titious. There is no void in his aftcctions or .senti- 
 ments, which a morbid and depraved sensibility 
 could occupy ; but his feelings, of what character 
 
 macy with the deceased, our boyish sports, and even soever they may be, are strong because they are 
 
 our quarrels, were adverted to with a natural elo 
 quence and pathos, that, in spite of my firmness, 
 occasioned me to feel the prevailing sorrow. They 
 spoke, or chanted mournfully, in Irish ; but the 
 substance of what they said was as follows : 
 
 ' Oh, Denis, Denis, ' uvouraeen !' you're lying 
 low this raomin' of sorrow !— lying Ion- are you, 
 and does not know who it is (alluding to me) that 
 is standin' over you, weepin' for the days you spent 
 togetlier in your youth ! It is yourself, acushla 
 Bgus asthore machrce ! (the pulse and beloved of 
 my heart I) that would stretch out the right hand 
 warmly to welcome him to the place of his birth, 
 ■where you had both been so often happy about the 
 green hills and valleys with each other. He's here 
 
 fresh and healthy 
 
 For this reason, I maintain that when the domes- 
 tic affections come under the influence of either 
 grief or joy, the peasantry of no nation are capable 
 of feeling so deeply. Even on the ordinary occa- 
 sions of death, sorrow, though it alternates with 
 mirth and cheertulness, in a manner peculiar to 
 themselves, lingers long in the unseen recesses of 
 domestic life ; any hand, therefore, whether by law 
 or violence, that plants a wound here, will suifer to 
 the death. 
 
 When my brother and I entered the house, the 
 body had just been put into the coffin ; and it is 
 usual after this takes place, and before it is nailed 
 down, for the immediate relations of the family to 
 
 now, standin' over you. and it's he, of all his family, i embrace the deceased, and take their last look and 
 kind and respectable as they are, that was your ' farewell of his remains. In the present instance, 
 own favorite, Denis, ' avoumeen dhelish !' He alone the children were brought over, one by one, to per- 
 was the companion that you loved ! with no other I form that trying and melancholy ceremony. 
 could you be happy ! For him did you fight, when j The first was an infant on the breast, whose little 
 he wanted a friend in your quarrels 1 and if you had j innocent mouth was held down to that uf its dead 
 a dispute with him, were you not sorry for it • Are , father; the babe smiled upon his still and solemn 
 you not now stretched in death before him, and ! features, and would have played with his grave 
 will he not forgive you :' I clothes, but that the murmur of unfeigned sorrow, 
 
 All this was utterred, of course, extemporane- which burst from all present, occasioned it to be 
 ously, and without the least preparation. They | removed. The next was a fine little girl of three or 
 then passed on to an enumeration of his virtues as I four years, who inquired where they wore going to 
 a father, a husband, son, and brother ; specified his ' bring her daddv, and asked if he would not soon 
 worth as he stood related to society in general, and i come back to iiEii. 
 his kindness as a neighbor and a friend. ' Sly daddy's sleepin' a long time,' said the child, 
 
 An occurrence now took place which may serve, • but I'll waken him till he sings me, 'Peggy Slevin.' 
 in some measure, to throw light upon many of the i I like my daddy best, bekase I sleeps wid him, and 
 atrocities and outrages which takes place in Ire- ' he brings me good things from the fair ; he bought 
 
 land. Before I mention it, however, I think it 
 necessary to make a few observations relative to it. 
 I am convinced that those who are intimately ac- 
 quainted with the Irish peasantry, will grant that 
 
 me this ribbon,' said she, pointing to a ribbon which 
 he had purchased for her. 
 
 The rest of the children were sensible of their loss, 
 and truly it was a distressing scene. His eldest son 
 
 there is not on the earth a class of people in whom and daughter, the former about fourteen, the latter 
 the domestic affections of blood-relationship are so ' about two years older, lay on the coffin kissing his 
 pure, strong, and sacred. 1 lips, and were with difliculty ton", away from it. 
 
 The birth of a child will occasion a poor man to ' Oh !' said the boy, • he is goin' from us, and 
 break in upon the money set apart for his landlord, night or day we will never see him or hear him more, 
 in order to keep the christening, surrounded by his I Oh, father, father, is that the last sight we are ever 
 firiends and neighbors, with due festivity. I to see of your face r — why, father dear, did you die, 
 
 A marriage exhibits a spirit of joy, an exuber- and leave us forever? — forever — wasn't your heart 
 ance of happiness and delight, to be found only in good to us, and your words kind to us — oh ! your 
 the Green Island ; and the death of a member of a last smile is smiled — your last kiss given — and your 
 family is attended with a sincerity of grief scarcely j last kind word spoken to your children, that you 
 to be expected from men so much the creatures of' loved, and that loved you as we did. Father, core 
 the more mirthful feelings In fact, their sorrow is of my heart, are you gone forever, and your voice 
 a solecism in humanity — at once deep and loud — ; departed ? Oh, the murdherers! oh, the murdher- 
 mingled up, even its wildest paro.xysms, with a ers, the murdherers !' he exclaimed, ' that killed my 
 laughter-loving spirit. j father j for only for them, he would be still with 
 
 It is impossible that an Irishman, sunk in the | us ; but, by the God that's over me, if I live night 
 lowest depths of affliction, could permit his grief to and day, I will not rest till I have blood for blood. 
 
 indulged In it for some time, they checked. But 
 the resolution of revenge was stronger than their 
 gricf.for standing over his dead body, they repeated, 
 almo.st word for word, the vow of vengeance which 
 the son had just sworn. It was really a scene dread- 
 fully and terribly solemn ; and 1 could not avoid 
 reflecting upon the mystery of nature, which can, 
 from the deep power of domestic afl'ection, cause to 
 spring a determination to crime of so black a dye. 
 
 During all this time the heart-broken widow sat 
 beyond the coffin, looking upon what passed with 
 a stupid sense of bereavement ; and when they had 
 all performed this last ceremony, it was found neces- 
 sary to tell her that the time was come for the pro- 
 cession of the funeral, and that they only waited for 
 her to take, as ihe re.st did, her last look and em- 
 brace of her hu.sband. When she heard this, it 
 pierced her like an arrow ; she became instantly col- 
 lected, and her complexion assumed a dark shade of 
 despairing anguish, which it was an affliction even 
 to look upon. She then stooped over the coffin, and 
 kissed him several times, after which she ceased 
 sobbing, and lay silently with her mouth to his. — 
 The character of a faithful wife sorrowing for a be- 
 loved husband has that in it which compels both 
 respect and sympathy. There was not at this mo- 
 ment a dry eye in the house. She still lay silent on 
 the coffin ; but as I observed that her bosom seemed 
 not to heave as it did a little before, I was convinced 
 that she had become insensible. She was then 
 brought to the air, and, after some trouble, recov- 
 ered. I recommended them to put her to bed, and 
 not subject her to any unnecessary anguish, by a 
 custom which was really too soul-picrcing to en- 
 dure. This, however, was, in her opinion, the vio- 
 lation of an old rite sacred to her heart and affec- 
 tions — she would not hear of it for an instant. 
 Again she was helped out between her brother and 
 brother-in-law ; and after stooping down, and doing 
 as the others had done — 
 
 ' Now,' said she, ' I will sit here, and keep him 
 under my eye as long as I can — surely you won't 
 blame mo for it ; you all know the kind husband he 
 was to me, and the good right I have to be sorry for 
 him! Oh,' she added, ' is it thruc at all? — is he, 
 my own Denis, the young husband of my early, 
 and my first love, in good airnest dead, and goiug 
 to leave me here— me, Denis, that you loved so 
 tindherly, and our children, that your brow was 
 never clouded against ? Can I believe myself, or is 
 it a dhrame ? Denis, ' avick raachree ! ' avick ma- 
 chree !' your hand was dreaded, and a good right it 
 had, for it was the manly hand, that was ever and 
 always raised in defence of them that wanted a 
 friend ; abroad, in the faction fight against the op- 
 pressor, your name was ever feared, 'acushla I' but 
 at home — at home — where was your fellow ? Denis, 
 ' agrah,' do you know the lips that's spakin' to 
 you ? — your young bride— your heart's light — oh, I 
 remimber the day you was married to me like yes- 
 terday. Oh! 'avoumeen,' then and since wasn't 
 the heart of your own Honor bound up in you ? — 
 yet not a word even to me. Well, 'agrah machree," 
 it isn't your fault, it's the first tmie you ever refused 
 to spake to your own Honor. But you're dead, 
 ' avoumeen, or it wouldn't be so — you're dead be- 
 fore my eyes — husband of my heart — and all my 
 hopes and happiness goes into the coflin and the 
 grave along wid you, forever !' 
 
 flow in all its sad solemnity, even tor a day, without 
 some glimpse of his natural humor throwing a faint 
 and rapid light over the gloom within him. No ; 
 there is an amalgamation of sentiments in his mind 
 which, as I said before, would puzzle any philoso- 
 pher to account for. 
 
 nor do I care who hears it, nor if I was hanged the 
 next minute.' 
 
 As these words escaped him, a deep and awful 
 murmur of suppressed vengeance burst from his 
 relations. At length their sorrow became too strong 
 to be repressed, and as it was the time to take their 
 
 Yet it would be wrong to say, though his grief i last embrace and look of him, they came up, and af- 
 has something of an usettlcd and ludicrous charac- ter fixing their eyes on his face in deep aflliction, 
 ter about it, that he is incapable of tfie most subtle j their lips began to quiver, and their countenances 
 and most desolating intensity of sorrow. I became convulsed. They then burst out simultanc- 
 
 But he laughs off those heavy vapors which hang | otlsly into a tide of violent grief, which, af: -rhaying 
 
 Anecdote of the Eakl of Dhshond — In the 
 reign of Elizabeth, Gerald, Earl of Desmond, was de- 
 feated, wounded, and taken prisoner, by his great rival, 
 Butler, Earl of Ormond, with whom he was always at 
 war. As the Ormondians were conveying him frou 
 the field, stretched upon a bier, his supporters, with a 
 natural triumph, exclaimed, ' Where is now the Earl 
 of Desmonii (' ' Where,' returned with energy the 
 *'ounded chief, ' where, but in his proper place, on the 
 necks of the Butlers.' 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 151 
 
 |.\ ooiwi.omlont of the Dandiilk Democrat, who | in the diplomacy of Spam. IIU services, however, 
 
 wimessi'il a coarsin)^ match in tlic coiiniy of Moalh, 
 and which was very pompously described in a local 
 p.iper, irivcs the Pcinoirat the tolluwin;; verses. lie 
 seoms 10 have no friendly feelinf; tor that jolly good 
 soul ' Leander,' ' the wit of all circle*,' and Farney's 
 white-heeded hoy ! ] 
 'UKOVES OF Jil.AKNEY' IN THE COUNIY MEATH. 
 
 My muse Tm Coicin' to describe ii cour-ia' 
 That lately happened in Drumcondra town, 
 
 Where the worthy lord, like a mighty grand lord. 
 In wealth and splendor came rowlin' down. 
 
 To paint the qnality in all their jollity. 
 
 An' genteel farmers that ligured there, 
 I've no ability, but with all humility, 
 
 I will enday vor I do declare. 
 There were hares in plenty, with grey-hounds twenty, 
 
 All bent on mischief I'm grieved to thiiik, 
 Besides the beaters, likewise spectator.'!. 
 
 All cowld and hungry for want of drink! 
 
 There was the Earl of Beclive, a real detective. 
 Looking most elVeclive, heeling through the furze, 
 
 ■While MickO'Hara was as good as Pharaoh, 
 Or the Lord of Tara, in boots and spurs. 
 
 There was a Misther Adam among the madams. 
 Dispensing eatables with wine and punch. 
 
 And the famed 'Leander,' a mere by-stander. 
 Till their honors twigged him, and gave him lunch. 
 
 There were two distillers, besides several millers. 
 With the Lady Killeeu of fame and might. 
 
 And tenant- righters, all splendid fighters. 
 When opposition is out of sight. 
 
 There were famed attorneys that came lODg journeys, 
 (The precious emblems of Kilkenny cats), 
 
 And those handsome Saxons, the Misther Jacksons, 
 Show'd their attractions in jerry hats. 
 
 I'm not a jaynious, or I would explain yez 
 The line divartiou with hound and hare; 
 
 As my understandin' is not commandin'. 
 Besides for sportiu' I little care 
 
 Tet, altho' 'tis winter, was I a printer, 
 I'd surely venture to paint the scene^ 
 
 The verdant rushes and the large wiiiu bushes— 
 Where thievin' foxes are all serene. 
 
 So now to fioish, I must dii 
 Since 1 can't replenish m 
 
 But a far-famed gamnionei 
 Will tip the blarney somf 
 
 inish, 
 
 slender rhyme, 
 
 in the Newry Examiner, 
 
 other time. 
 
 CATHOLIC GENTLEMEN IN THE PENAL TIMES. 
 
 BY LADY MORGAN. 
 
 ' Pray, was O'Donnel the Red, an ancestor of 
 yours, Colonel O'Donnel :' 
 
 ' My immediate ancestor, madam,' he replied ; ' a 
 very brave and very unfortunate man, who lived 
 the lord of this region, and died with only this 
 sword to bequeath to his posterity. You will find 
 the name of Hugh O'Donnel mentioned with honor 
 in all the histories of Ireland, whether traced by 
 her enemies or her friends. But I believe the most 
 authentic, though the simplest account of him, will 
 be found in the old national chronicle, called the 
 ' Annals of the Four Masters,' from which the pages 
 you have read aje extracted.' 
 
 As he spoke, he took the volume which lay on the 
 desk, and running over its pages, he said : ' This is 
 one of our most curious chronicles extant. The 
 late master of this retreat, my dearest friend, and 
 nearest kinsman, was engaged in translating from it 
 the history of our family, when death clo.sed his 
 own. You must perceive that what has been done 
 by my late venerable kinsman has been done care- 
 lessly, and is indeed rather a loose abridgment than 
 a just translation, exhibiting that want of connexion 
 so frequently obvious in the last efforts of declining 
 intellect, when all links of association hold feebly 
 together, when the mind only recovers itself by 
 starts and imagination, if not whoUy extinguished, 
 sends forth but brief and sudden sparks from its 
 decaying fires ; yet the author of these feeble frag- 
 ments had once nerve, spirit, and talents, adequate 
 to till the highest station, to crown the boldest en- 
 terprise. The Abbe O'Donnel distinguished himself 
 
 less known than felt, were marked rather by their 
 success than their recompense.' 
 
 ' It is lamentable,' said Mr. Glentworth, ' that 
 talents so rarely found should be employed in the 
 service of any country but their own.' 
 
 'True,' said O'Donnel, 'it is indeed lamentable — 
 destructive to the country and fatal to the indivi- 
 dual. But to command the services of genius, it 
 must be unrestricted. It is the equal right, the 
 equal hope, shining on all alike, which gives vigor 
 to ability, and a right direction to the vague im- 
 pulses of ambition. Sink the individual in the scale 
 of social consideration, withdraw from him the na- 
 tural motives which should give strength to resolu- 
 tion and energy to action, and you banish or degrade 
 him ; he remains at home, alternating between the 
 torpor of disgraceful indolence and the wildness of 
 suUen disaffection, or he retires to other countries, 
 to offer those talents, those energies, to foreign states, 
 for which he finds no mart at home. Like the liquid 
 element, the human mind flows cloudy and polluted 
 through narrow and prescribed channels, and de- 
 rives its brilliancy, its purity, its wholesomeness, 
 and its utility, alone from the freedom of its course, 
 and the agitation of its own natural and unrestrain- 
 ed motions. 
 
 ' To this alternative of idleness or banishment 
 were the gentlemen of Ireland reduced by religious 
 disqualification, at the period when the original of 
 that picture, accompanied by a younger brother, 
 bade adieu to the land of his fathers. The brothers 
 offered their services in causes with which their 
 feelings held no alliance. The younger O'Donnel 
 entered the Austrian army, where so many of his 
 kinsmen had already distinguished themselves. He 
 rapidly attained the rank of a general olKcer, lived 
 in honor, and died in glory. 
 
 The elder brother, with an early imbibed taste 
 for philosophical diplomacy, became an efficient 
 agent in the court of Madrid, and expiated his illu- 
 sion by his disappointment. He found himself in- 
 volved in the narrow and illiberal views of a crooked 
 and intricate policy, and discovered, too late, that 
 the labor of an unforfunate alien, received altern- 
 ately with an enforced confidence or a natural dis- 
 trust, are accepted with reluctance, and rewarded 
 with parisimony. 
 
 In a moment of this melancholy conviction (his 
 strong passions ever veering to extremes), he aban- 
 doned the world, ^nd threw himself into the Abbey 
 of La Trappe. He was soon, however, again sought 
 for, because his talents were soon missed, and the 
 royal entreaty and papal authority once more drag- 
 ged him on the scene of life, at the moment he was 
 found digging his grave. 
 
 Y"et when death, after a course of years, robbed 
 him of the prince he served, he remained unrecom- 
 pensed, unprovided for, advanced in life, and care- 
 worn in spLi'its. Then it was that his affections 
 (having completed the circle of objects, which in 
 turn possess the bosom, and mark the stages from 
 the cradle to the tomb,) returned to the goal from 
 whence they started. His country, his home, awak- 
 ened his heart's last warm impulses, and the fond 
 desire so common among the Irish, that his eyes 
 should be closed by the hands of kindred affection, 
 led him back to that paternal roof, and to those 
 ties, whose images time and abscence had rather 
 strengthened than obliterated from its remembrance. 
 He had left an elder brother, the representative of 
 the faded honors and lessened fortunes of his family, 
 and to the sons of this brother he looked forward 
 for the bright reflection of his own ardent youth, for 
 the solace of declining jears. He returned after 
 thirty years of exile, but found no home, nor brother, 
 nor brother's children. 
 
 There was, at the period to which 1 allude, a 
 penal statute in force, which struck at once against 
 the law of God and man, and tore assunderthe holy 
 
 bond, which forms the type of every social institu- 
 tion, the tie of filial and parental love. By this law 
 it was enacted that the son of a Catholic parent, 
 by conformity to the established church, could 
 legally possess himself of the property of his 
 family (when so gained) from the rightful heirs. A 
 crime thus sanctioned, did sometimes — not often — 
 find its motive in the sordid selfishness of human 
 depravity. 
 
 Oh, then many a blessed tie was rent asunder — 
 many a grey head was bowed with shame and sor- 
 row to the grave. Brother raised his hand against 
 brother.' He paused again in emotion, and then 
 continued : ' In a word, such was the event which 
 hailed the Abbe's return to this country — the 
 youngest of the two nephews had abjured a faith 
 which only entailed misfortune, and, reaping the 
 fruits of his apostacy by taking the letter of the law, 
 left his family and the natural heir destitute. 
 
 The injured brother, maddened with the double 
 wrongs of himself and his infant son, gave vent to 
 nature's bitterest indignation. The brothers fought 
 — fratricide was added to apostacy, and the guilty 
 survivor, not aole to appear on the scene of his 
 crimes, left his country forever.' 
 
 Hall of Taka.— In the Library of Trinity College, 
 Dublin, there is preserved a fragment of an ancient 
 Irish manuscript, containing a description of the Ban- 
 quetting Hall of Tamar, or Tara, which is very curious. 
 It states that ' The Palace of Tamar was formerly the 
 seat of Conn, of the hundred battles ; it was the seat of 
 Art, and of Cairbre Liffeachar, and of Cathar Mor, and 
 of every king who ruled in Tamar on the time of 
 Niall. 
 
 In the reign of Cormac, the palace of Tamar was 
 nine hundred feet square ; the surrounding rath seven 
 diu, or casts of a dart; it contained one hundred and 
 and fifty apartments, one hundred and fifty dormito- 
 ries, or sleeping rooms for guards, and sixty men in 
 each ; the height was twenty-seven cubits ; there were 
 one hundred and fifty common drinking horns, twelve 
 porches, twelve doors, and one thousand guests daily, 
 besides princes, orators, and men of science, engravers 
 of gold and silver, carvers, modellers, and nobles. 
 
 The eating hall had twelve stalls, or divisions, in each 
 wing, with tables and passages round them ; sixteen 
 attendants on each side, eight to the astrologers, histo- 
 rians, and secretaries in the rear of the hall, and two 
 to each table at the dooi ; one hundred guests in all . 
 two oxen, two sheep, and two hogs, at each meal di- 
 vided equally to each side. 
 
 The quantity of meat and hatter that were daily 
 consumed here, surpasses all description ; tliere were 
 twenty-seven kitchens, and nine cisterns for washing 
 hands and feet, a ceremony not dispensed with from 
 the highest to the lowest. 
 
 Umbrellas.— In the Female Tatler, of the 12th of 
 December, 1709, we meet wish the following advertis- 
 ^ent ; — 'The young gentleman belonging to the Cus- 
 tom House, that I'or fear of rain, borrowed the umbrel- 
 la at Willis's coffee house in Cornhill of the mistress, 
 is hereby adve^ti^ed, that to be dry from head to foot 
 on the like occasion, he shall be welcome to the maid's 
 pattens.' It would seem, from the satire conveyed in 
 this notice, that this uselul invention had at first been 
 considered as too effeminate for men, When the Em- 
 peror Joseph II., while on his travels, under the name 
 of Count Falkenstein, at Metz, he attended a review. 
 The count had no parapluic. Tlie major general of- 
 fcrcd his to the count, which he refused, saying, 'I 
 value not a shower, it hurts nothing of a man but his 
 clothes.' The instant after, all the umbrellas were 
 folded up and disappeared. When the late Marques 
 of Cornwallis was leaving a nobleman's house, and 
 stc)iping into his carriage, a servant offered to hold an 
 umbrella over him. 'Take that thing away,' said his 
 lordship, 'I am neither sugar nor salt, to ^suffer by a 
 shower of rain." 
 
152 
 
 IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 SCENERY AND TRADITIONS OF IRELAr.D. 
 
 Tlu- name of Spenser is so associated with Kilcol- 
 m«n Castle that we feel assured we shall {^'ratify our 
 readers by laying before them a sketch of all that 
 Temains of the poet's princely residence in the 
 county of Cork. 
 
 The ensile is now, alas! in ruins, although within 
 its deserted halls the proud Desmonds once held 
 almost ngal sway. The situation of this architec- 
 tural fragment of a former age now looks bleak and 
 cheerless, owing to the surrounding mountains be- 
 ing completely destitute of timber ; but a well- 
 founded tradition exists that the woods of Kilcol- 
 man extended to Buttevant, three miles distant. 
 The estates have long since passed from the poet's 
 family, which are now supposed to be extinct. The 
 chief portion of the property was forfeited by a 
 grandson of Spenser's through his attachment to 
 the cause of the unfortunate James II. And upon 
 this incident we may observe that, although the 
 Stuart family were supported by the noblest and 
 bravest in the realm, although rivers of blood were 
 poured forth in their behalf, the dearest ties sev- 
 ered, and the fi)nde>t associations broken, yet all 
 'would not do — their power passed away. 
 
 Spenser was created poet-laureate to Queen Eliz- 
 abetli ; but for some time wore only the barren 
 laurel, for no pension was attached to the posses- 
 sion of the honor. As the .Scotch say, the lord- 
 treasurer, liurleigli, did not 'fash' himself much 
 about mere 'poet-creatures.' Perliaps, owing to his 
 devotion to the sci-ere and dry duties of statesman- 
 ahip, he was unable to appreciate the melody of 
 words orderly arranged, and, in a spirit of econo- 
 my, protected the civil list from uniither addition to 
 its burdens. It was said that he disobeyed the 
 queen's express order, and intercepted the bounty 
 intended for the poet. We should scarcely think 
 this probable; no minister would have dared s'^ to 
 triflle with the masculine character of Elizabeth. 
 However, where the fault lay is still a mysterj'; 
 and we have it upon record that Spenser resented 
 this ungracious treatment by writing his 'Mother 
 Hubbard's Tale,' in which he painted the misfor- 
 tune of depending upon courts and great persons in 
 a very lively manner. But though Spenser had no 
 interes with ihe lord then in power, he was, never- 
 theless, held in considerable esteem by the most 
 
 KILCOLMAX CASTLE. 
 
 eminent men of the time; and upon Lord (jrcy | 
 being appointed deputy of Ireland, he was presented 
 with £60 a year and a large grant of land, 3'28 acres 
 of which belonged to the unfortunate Earl of Des- 
 mond. 
 
 It was the 'gentle poet' who advised the English 
 government, it its wars with the Irish people, to 
 burn their fields of standing corn, and so brought 
 war's worst desolation upon the land. He also 
 represer.tpd to the English government the extermi- 
 nation of the Irish bards, that the people might the 
 more easily be subjugated. One of the conditions 
 upon which he received the land was, that no Irish 
 should he permitted to live upon it. The 
 result of this harsh and inhuman policy — for most 
 of the English settlers were similarly restrained — as 
 might have been foreseen, was to increase the hatred 
 with which the Irish naturally regarded these in- 
 truders, and to expose the latter, more openly to 
 the vengeance of their enemies. The desolate pile 
 resting in lonely grandeur on the banks of the 
 'Slulla fair and bright' shows how ineffectual was 
 oppression to banish the memory of a wrong. The 
 castle seems brooding over its vanished greatness, 
 and the poet's favorite stream rolls sadly along, as 
 if in mourning for the bard, who had fallen a vic- 
 tim to the bad passions which a vindictive policy 
 encouraged. • 
 
 It was in 1586 that Spenser took up his residence 
 in this ancient castle, and, in the retirement found 
 within its walls, devoted himself to the Muses. 
 As he wandered along the banks of his beloved 
 MuUa — & poetical name substituted by him for the 
 harsh name of Awbeg, which the river still retains 
 — it is pleasing to imagine that the glorious vision 
 of— 
 
 'Heavenly V'ua, and her milk-white lumb' 
 burst upon his mind, and that as he rambled, re- 
 garding nature with a poet's eye, he drew the out- 
 line of his beautiful poem, 'The Faery Queen' — a 
 work, for brilliancy of fancy, richness of thought, 
 and noble imagery, unsurpassed by anything of a 
 similar nature in the English language. Through- 
 out his poems we find numerous allusions to the 
 scenery in the neighborhood of Kilcolman, and of 
 Castletown Roche, where he possessed another small 
 estate. In ' Mutability ' he celebrates the barony 
 of Aimor>-, or Fermoy, under the name of Annilla, 
 
 and in ' Colin Clout's come home again,' he bestows 
 the tribute of his admiration upon his favorite 
 Mulla. In this poem there is a chaste and beautiful 
 memorial of the friendship which subsisted between 
 Spenser and Sir Walter Raleigh. The poet describes 
 his friend as a shepherd of the ocean coming to visit 
 him in his retirement. The lines are exquisite, and 
 we cannot resist the temptation to quote them. 
 * I Fate US was my tiade, 
 
 Under the foot of Mole, that mountain liore; 
 
 Keeping my slieejj aniongf-t the cooly shade 
 
 Of the green alders of Blnlla s fhoie. 
 
 There a strange shepherd chanced to find me out; 
 
 Wlietlier allured by my pipe's delight, 
 
 Whose pleasing ^oulld sliiillcd far about, 
 
 Or thither led by chance. I know not right; 
 
 Whom when I asfied from what place he came, 
 
 And how he liight? himself he did yclep, 
 
 The Shepherd of Ihe Ocean by name, 
 
 And said he came far from the main sea deep.' 
 The last line alludes to the roving disposition of 
 Sir Walter Raleigh, and how touching is the affec- 
 tion which the bard manifests for his kindred spirit. 
 
 Seated in 
 
 'Tlie cooly shade 
 Of the green alders,' 
 we may imagine the kind of conversation with which 
 two such congenial souls would rob time of its tedi- 
 ousness. Raleigh, with the ardor of the adventurer, 
 and the fire of the bravest soldier that ' ever set 
 squadron in the field,' would glowingly describe the 
 countries he had vi.siied, enumerate their resources, 
 and expatiate on the advantages which would accrue 
 to England from their possession. The poet would 
 listen with greedy ear — for who loves not the mar- 
 vels of strange lands ■ — and then he would, at a 
 bound, mount iiis Pegasus, and, perhaps, pulling 
 forth a manu.script, written in a most ' text and 
 clerk- like hand,' read to the delightful enthusiast by 
 his side, himself no mean poet, a few pages of ' The 
 Faery Queen.' 
 
 When the rebellion of Tyrone, in 1598, broke out, 
 Spencer was compelled to fly to England, to escape 
 the retalliations which were everywhere being di- 
 rected against the English settlers. He saved his 
 life, but his castle was burned, and his only child 
 perished in the flames, and all his property plun- 
 dered by what the English government called rebels. 
 He died the same year, utterly crushed in spirit, 
 and was buried in Westminster Abbey. 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 BOSTON, SATURDAY, OCTBER 16, 1858 
 
 HARPER'S MONTHLY MAGAZINE. 
 
 One fault, easily amended, would make this peri- 
 odical always distasteful to a large and rapidly 
 growing portion of the reading community. We 
 allude to the sectarian tone which, from time to 
 time, is found to be so unreasonably prominent in 
 it. We would say nothing about this matter if the 
 magazine would show its colors, and declare that it 
 was and is designed to suit the peculiar tastes of the 
 Protestant middle class reading public. When we 
 take up a number of Blackwood's magazine, we 
 know, to a comma, what we are to have as reading 
 matter. We shall find in it tales, essays, sketches, 
 reviews, and political articles, written in the very 
 best English that can be tound in the superior class 
 of publications of our age. The ambitious student, 
 who would be noted for his pure English, should 
 give his days and nights to the study of Blackwood 
 rather than of Addison. Many writers have tried 
 to imitate him successfully, but most have failed. — 
 As Horace says, while commenting upon the inim- 
 itably simple style of Ca2sar's narrative of his wars, 
 the ambitious imitator will, in most eases, sweat 
 profusely and labor in vain. 
 
 But every reader of Blackwood knows very well 
 that the magazine is High Church in religion, and 
 High Tory iii politics, and intensely British through- 
 out. It has no good word for dissenters, and it pro- 
 fesses to abhor 'Romanism,' the more especially 
 since the O.xford movement, and the conversion of 
 so many High Church clergymen and others of lofty 
 standing to the Roman Catholic church. Black- 
 wood is fair in this respect ; he tells you what dishes 
 he will set before you. If you find him an enemy, 
 you have an honorable one, who told you from the 
 beginning that he had no love to waste upon you. 
 
 An American, who might take up a copy of a 
 magazine published in a slave state — say the South- 
 em Literary Messenger, if it be in existence yet — 
 would e.xpect to find its politics shaped to suit 
 southern tastes. Frequent.and otten able, apologies 
 for the institution of slavery, and as able indications 
 of the doctrine of State Rights, would be naturally 
 looked for in such a periodieal,and the northern man 
 who might find in this thing matter of accusation 
 would be a silly fellow. 
 
 The same principle applies to our ne w Atlantic 
 monthly, of which we have on some accounts reason 
 to be proud. It is generally understood that most 
 of ths contributor J to ;his magazine are disposed 
 to support the Free-soil or Republican party. Hence, 
 no intelligent reader should be surprised, although 
 he might be sorry, to find in it elaborate articles, 
 written in opposition to the doctrines concerning 
 slavery as held by the Democratic party, and as ex- 
 pounded by Presidents Pierce and Buchanan. 
 
 It ia so with all newspapers and other periodicals, 
 with the exception of that class which may be re- 
 garded upon their own showing as purely scientific 
 or literary pubfications. Xo Republican would 
 dream of reading the Boston Post for articles on his 
 side of the question, and i.o Democrat would be 
 ■willing to take the Atlas and Bee as a guide in pol- 
 itics. The Protestant who would read the Boston 
 Pilot for any other purpose than to be well inform- 
 ed as to what the Catholics were doing would be no 
 true Protestant, and the Catholic who would read 
 an avowedly sectarian paper, with the remotest ex- 
 pectation of finding in it anything like justice to 
 Catholicity, would be an ass, to say the least of it. 
 
 Assuming that the lower class of readers are con- 
 tent only what are called ' flash novels and papers,' 
 and assuming that the higher class of readers, when 
 they look at a magazine, open only such as the 
 Atlantic and Blackwood, we may safely assume that 
 Harper's magazine has a very liberal, and, in most 
 
 respects, a deserved share of the patronage of that 
 immense and highly respectable, but most impressi- 
 ble body — the middling class of American readers. 
 Now, these men and woir.cn may be, and are, of all 
 shades and shadows of religious and political belief, 
 opinion, or whim. Harper expressly acknowledges 
 this in his standing advertisement, printed on the 
 cover of the magazine. He says that the publishers 
 ' will contrive to fill the magazine with articles in- 
 culcating sound views in life and morals, leaving, as 
 heretofore, the discussion of sectarian opinions in 
 religion, and sectional questions in politics, to their 
 own appropriate organs. Wise men and true 
 patriots agree upon points far more numerous than 
 those upon which they differ. The object of the 
 magazine will be to unite rather than to separate the 
 views and feelings of the people of different sections 
 of our common country.* 
 
 Now that is an excellent programme for a maga- 
 zine that enjoys the very great and respectable pat- 
 ronage which Harper's books can show. And, in 
 most points, the magazine fulfils the promise made 
 by its proprietors. In literature, it is tolerably 
 eclectic — selecting specimens from nearly all schools 
 of English literature — one, perhaps, excepted ; and 
 its selections are generally made with taste and skill, 
 and few things may be found in it offensive to the 
 major and minor morals. To be sure, its leaning 
 is towards sentimentalism, but this must be regarded 
 as a recognition of the quality of the reading which 
 Harper's great public likes best. It occasionally 
 betrays the Free- Soil tendencies of its conductors, 
 but this seems to occur without design, not to say 
 malice aforethought. It always gives a good supply 
 of readable jokes, and an excellent summary of pas- 
 sing events. Its reviews of books are commonly 
 fair, and its ' voyage, travel, and excursion articles,' 
 furnish entertaining and sometimes instructive mat- 
 ter. 
 
 But, Harper's is a sectarian magazine, after all, 
 and the man who buys it, under the supposition that 
 it is not, commits a singular mistake. It is essen- 
 tially a magazine prepared to suit the tastes of the 
 middling class of American Protestant readers, and 
 serves up dishes for them skilfully made. Since 
 the appearance of the so-called American party, that 
 is to say, within the last four years, this thing has 
 been quite noticeable — somewhat painfully so. 
 This has been apparent not so much in the general 
 tone of the articles, as in the appearance, from time 
 to time, of some elaborate letter, sketch, or essay, 
 written by a bigoted Protestant, describing his per- 
 sonal experience in countries really or nominally 
 Catholic, and who knew too little of history, and of 
 the doctrines of Catholicity, and of the bearings of 
 those doctrines on religious, social, political and 
 civil life in those countries to enable him to stand 
 up as a competent, fair and honest witness. Now 
 we would respectfully submit that there are several 
 good reasons why this sectarian course should not 
 be pursued. 
 
 In the first place, the promise given by Harper to 
 his readers is no; kept. A Catholic takes up the 
 magazine expecting to find in it useful or entertain- 
 ing matter, without the admixture of anything of- 
 fensive to him as a Catholic. He sees that great 
 care is taken in order that the feelings of no mem- 
 ber of any of our prominent sects shall be wounded, 
 and, trusting to the assurance given by the conduc- 
 tors, he takes it for granted that his religion, too, 
 will be let alone. But it is not so. He finds arti- 
 cles, often illustrated with grotesque cu's, showing 
 up his church and its workings in various lands as 
 anything but proper, respectable or religious. Har- 
 per docs not keep his promise. 
 
 Then, nothing is gained by this course. The arti- 
 cles in question are not numerous ; the mischief is, 
 that you may pitch upon one of them in any num- 
 ber. Now, it would be 'carrying coals to Newcastle' 
 to tell Harper that he could provide good matter in 
 
 place of this aflti-Popery sTViff, and so placse all his 
 readers without giving just grounds of offence to 
 any. 
 
 In the next place, let us observe that it is not good 
 policy in a periodical like Harper's to ignore the 
 already great and daily increasing number of per- 
 sons born in the Catholic church in this country, 
 who are, or might be, readers of such magazines as 
 his. Honesty is the best policy also in literary life. 
 It may be natural enough for professed 'anti- Popery' 
 writers, speakers and preachers, to treat Catholicity 
 as they do ; but, in other walks of life, a different 
 spirit is at work. In France, during the awful 
 years of the first revolution, God was not recognized 
 in political, civil, social, or literary life. He has 
 since vindicated His ways in all these things. In 
 many lands the Catholic church is officially declared 
 to be politically, socially, civilly, not to say reli- 
 giously, dead. And yet Catholicity everywhere 
 ' still lives.' How does this happen ? Macaulay 
 cannot tell you, although, in his essay on the His- 
 tory of the Popes, he has a paragraph containing the 
 most sublime description of the hold of the Catholic 
 church upon the world to be found in any book. 
 It is not good policy, then, ever for the conductors 
 of a literary magazine to ignore a power which has 
 endured for eighteen centuries, which ' still lives,' 
 which somehow contrives to fatten on dry bones 
 and rough treatment, and which says that, as she 
 has heretofore lived always and everywhere, so wiU 
 she live everywhere and always to the end of time, 
 in spite of her enemies— yea, in spite of her friends. 
 
 Again, a conspicuous feature in Harper's is the 
 biographical, historical, and traveller's articles, 
 some of them very readable withal. Now, apart 
 from the pleasure obtained from the perusal of 
 things of this sort, the main object should be, on the 
 part of the conductors, to make their readers satis- 
 fied that the descriptiors or notices in question are 
 reliaole and true. No doubt. Harper would have 
 it so. Otherwise, the articles would be merely bits 
 of historical or biographical romance, and should be 
 published under some such heading. Indeed, not a 
 few of them should be so published, if published at 
 all. Then the reading public would know what to 
 say to them, as the judicious readers of Scott know 
 what to say to such absurd pictures as may be found 
 in the ' Abbot ' and ' Monastery.' But here is an 
 article, for instance, on Italy. Mr. Blank, a Roman 
 Catholic, who reads Harper's, and rather likes the 
 magazine, and who has, perhaps, spent more years 
 in Italy than Harper's man has months, looks over 
 the article, and tosses it and the magazine aside in 
 disgust. He conceives at once a condemnatory 
 judgment, or, at least, a suspicion against ever 
 historical, biographical, or traveller's article in th 
 magazine, and not without at least a good show of 
 reason. He says Harper gives his word and honor 
 that ALL articles of this sort shall be written by 
 competent, intelligent, and trustworthy persons. 
 But I KNOW that of the statements in this article be- 
 fore me some are absurd and some are false, so that 
 the whole article is a lie. If I detect a man in the 
 utterrance of statements concerning places, men and 
 events which I know to be untrue, how can I trust 
 him when he writes about men, things and places of 
 which I have no personal knowledge ? The infer- 
 ence seems to be a just one, particularly where 
 Catholic persons, events and places are concerned. 
 
 The Galway Line of Steamers. — Arrangements 
 have been perfected in New York for presenlins a 
 flag to Captain Waters, upon the next sailing of the 
 Prince Albert on the 18th inst. Miss Theresa Es- 
 mond, the dramatic reader, has consented to make 
 the presentation. The design of the flag is the 
 American ministerial crest, encircled by the sham- 
 rock, inclosing the harp of Erin, and having the 
 inscription, 'To Captain Thomas J. Waters, Prince 
 Albert,' beneath. 
 
154 
 
 IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 [From tilt Irish I,||i'niry Gii/i-llj.) 
 BLARNEY. 
 The Rrovcs of Blariu'v tlu'v »rc ^o elmrininf; 
 
 All by the purling ofBWift sileul hrooki.; 
 Bfini; banked with pu'^ies thnt hpoiittineuus grow there, 
 
 rianted in ui-der In the rocky nookit. 
 Tifl tberv'0 the daisy, and the sweet caruation. 
 
 The blooming pink, and the rose i-o fair; 
 Likewise the Illy and the dHlVudowiidilly, 
 
 All Oowers thnt fceut the sweet frairraut air.' 
 
 This famous place occupies the midst of a fertile 
 vnlc about five miles west of the c.ty of Cork. The 
 village itself is in nn insignitiount lutnilet, contain- 
 ing a plain and spireless church, a single hostelry, 
 and a pump — a venerable monument of Eld. Near- 
 ly a century ago it was a thrivin;; town, with thir- 
 teen mills at work in its vicinity, and a market 
 place, in wliieh considerable business was transact- 
 ed weekly; but its prosperity has long since died 
 away, the only evidences of it now existing being a 
 paper manufactory, and Sir. Slahony's wooUen 
 mill. 
 
 The rustic chapel of IJlamcy is situated at the end 
 of a romantic glen, and in close proximity to it 
 arises a round tower. Apropos of this tower, we 
 may indulge in a pardonable self-gratulation at the 
 advantage we possess, in this instance, over all who 
 have written on this vexatious 'erux' of antiquaries; 
 for, inasmuch as they have long wrangled and still 
 dispute about the origin of these cylindrical puzzles, 
 ■we can unhesitatingly decide on that of ihc Blarney 
 •clogtheagh,' which was built by the late parish 
 priest, the llev. Mathew Hargan, a ripe Irish 
 scholar, and one of the most simple minded and 
 hospitable of men. The proportions of the tower 
 are by no means symmetrical; it is misshapen and 
 sttinted, and has been happily compared to a mon- 
 ster ehum. 
 
 The chief object of interest at Blarney is the 
 castle. Square, hoar and massey, its walls appear 
 above the verdure in which they are embosomed, 
 effectively contrasting with the vivid greenery of 
 the richly foliaged trees. It is said to have con- 
 sisted of four towers similar to that now existant, 
 but not a vestige of the extinct towers remain, 
 although the mounds and hollows in the vicinity of 
 the castle attest its former extent and importance 
 as a stronghold. Before describing the castle, how- 
 ever, we will briefly glance at the deeds of the more 
 prominent members of the ancict clan for whose 
 defence it was erected. 
 
 The M'Carthy Slore family were formerly the 
 chief sept in Desmond, or South Munstcr. In an- 
 tiquity of descent, the M'Carthies may vie with any 
 of the oldest families in Europe. Long before the 
 English set foot on the -Island of Saints,' members 
 of this race held sway over Munster as its kings. 
 Their name is derived from Carthach, King of 
 Munster, who flourished about the beginning of the 
 eleventh century. His great grandson, Dairmid, 
 Prince of Desmond, has gained an unenviable noto- 
 riety by his treacherous surrender of Cork to a 
 handful of Anglo-Xorman adventurers, in 1172. 
 His son rebelled against, captured, and imprisoned 
 him, but he was soon reliused trom durance by 
 the timely aid of Ra)Tnond le (iros, to whom he 
 made extensive grants of land in return for this 
 service. Dairmid subsequently repented of his 
 base surrender of Cork, and was slain in a second 
 unsuccessful attempt to recover the city. In 1185. 
 Soon after this event, began one of those intersenine 
 feuds between the M'Carthies and the O'Briens of 
 Thomond, which stain the page of Irish history. 
 
 This strife had scarcely subsided, when a new 
 and more deadly one arose between the Sl'Carthies 
 and the almost equally powerful sept of the Geral- 
 dines, a branch of 'those degenerate Xormans,' to 
 use the words of an eminent writer, 'who had for- 
 gotten their origin, and had adopted the Celtic lan- 
 guage and manners. For nearly two centuries the 
 feud between the rival clans desolated the province. 
 
 The minor septs of the Donovans, O'Driscolls, 
 M'Mnhans, and .SHccniea, took part with either of 
 the two ])rincipal chins, by which they weakened 
 themselves, and contributed to the aggrandisement 
 of the M'Carthies and Geraldines. About the 
 middle of the thirteenth century, Munster was de- 
 vastated by the contending factions, and its valleys, 
 now so peaceful, rang with their fierce slogans. 
 
 A trait of social life in those rude times, highly 
 illustrative of the period, has been handed down to 
 us. Bards were then held in deep veneration, were 
 hospitably entertained in the houses they visited, 
 and the place of honor allotted them at table. It 
 is said that Donald Hoe M'Carthy, in the thirteenth 
 century.contested the palm of hospitality and gene- 
 rosity with Maguirc, prince of Fermanagh. In 
 order to decide their contention on this head, a 
 bard, after having spent a year in each of their 
 houses, awarded the prize to Maguire, in a poem, 
 in which he declares that the latter possessed a more 
 numerous retinue, and consumed a larger quantity 
 of victuals in his household than his rival, M'Car- 
 thy More, with his far more extensive territory. 
 
 In 119o, the head of the M'Carthies, of Desmond, 
 was created Lord Muskerry, and in 1660, Donogh 
 M'Carthy obtained the title of Earl of CUmcarty. 
 The fourth Lord Muskerry, Cormac Laider, or the 
 Strong — an ominous title for his weaker neighbors 
 -—built the eastle of Blarney in 1449, together with 
 other castles and abbeys, among them the friary 
 and castle of Kilcrea. The English settlers paid 
 him a tribute of £40 per annum for his protection. 
 Cormac met a violent death by the hand of his 
 brother, in 1495, and the fratracide hin^self was 
 slain by a near relative — unnatural crimes, that re- 
 call those prompted by the ruthless ambition of 
 Eastern princes. Cormac Oge Laider, who suc- 
 ceeded Cormac the Strong, defeated .larnes, Earl of 
 Desmond, in a sanguinary engagement at Mourne 
 Abbey, near Mallow. The eighth lord, Cormac 
 JIac Teige, was a brave, accomplished, and able 
 chieftain. He gained a decisive victory over the 
 Earl of Desmond's brother, for which he was 
 knighted and made sheriff of Cork. He warmly 
 espoused the English cause. In October, 1601, he 
 reinforced Sir G. Carew, Lord President of Mun- 
 ster, with a large body of Irish at the siege of Kin- 
 sale; but having been accused by his cousin, Teige 
 M'Cormac Carthy, of a secret understanding with 
 the Spaniards within the town, he was arrested and 
 imprisoned. Having escaped from prison, he suc- 
 ceeded in obtaining pardon from James I. His des- 
 cendant, Cormac Oge M'Carthy, was summoned 
 to parliament in the reign of James I., as Baron of 
 Blarney. That monarch subseqvently conferred on 
 him forever the lordship of the lands of Blarney, 
 including the castle and village. Donagh M'Car- 
 thy, Lord Muskerry, engaged in the civil war of 
 1741, taking a prominent part in favor of the mon- 
 archy. He was opposed by O'Brien, Earl of Inchi- 
 quin, who defeated him in a well-contested fight. 
 He was consoled for this discomfiture by being ap- 
 pointed Lord President of Munster by Charles I. 
 Lord Biohill, who took part alternately with the 
 king and the parliament, as his interests dictated, 
 besieged and took Blarney Castle, in 1643, and oc- 
 cupied it for some time. After the restoration. 
 Lord Muskerry was created Earl Clancarty, and his 
 estates restored to him; and at the Revolution, his 
 son, Donagh, embraced the cause of James II. 
 During the wars of this period. Earl Clancarty im- 
 prisoned the Protestant citizens of Cork in Blarney 
 Castle. After the unsuccessful efforts of James to 
 regain the throne, the extensive Clai.carty estates, 
 yieding a yearly revenue of £200,000, were confis- 
 cated, and their lord exiled on a paltry pension of 
 £.300 per annum. Blarney Castle and grounds then 
 came into the possession of Dean Davies, of Cork, 
 from whom they were purchased by the HoUow- 
 Hword-blade comptmy. In 1703, Sir James Jef- 
 
 fereys obtained the lands by purchase, and they still 
 continue in that family. 
 
 liobert, the fourth Earl of Clancarty, after serv- 
 ing as captain in the English navy, nettled in 
 France, where high honors were bestowed on him. 
 At the age of sixty-three, he married, for the second 
 time, a young wife, 'of whom," says Mr. Win- 
 dele, in his invaluable 'Xutices of Cork,' 'it is re- 
 lated that the earl, having been left a legacy of 
 £'J0,000, by a relative who died in England, sent 
 over his wife to receive it, and that she, after hav- 
 ing obtained its possession, remained with it in 
 England. The dove returned no more.' After 
 passing a thoughtless, convivial life, he died at the 
 advanced age of eighty-four. His sons left no issue, 
 and the title has become extinct. 
 
 Having thus rapidly sketched the fortunes of 
 some members of the once potent lords of Blarney, 
 we shall return to the castle and 'groves.' [For 
 engraving and description of Blarney Castle see 
 No. 7, Vol. I., Irish Miscellany.] The remains of 
 the former are still in good preservation. It is 
 about one hundred feet high, and stands on a lime- 
 stone rock, at whose base fiows a stream called the 
 Comanc. The walls are surmounted by a parapet, 
 supported by corbels, the whole crowned by crene- 
 lated battlements. A narrow, winding staircase 
 leads to the apartments (if we may dignify thtm 
 with that term,) which are so small, gloomy, and 
 cheerless, that they are better suited for the lairs of 
 wild beasts than for the habitation of man. The 
 uppermost apartment constituted the kitchen, in 
 which are two spacious fire-places. The great hall 
 occupies one of the higher stories, and its vaulted 
 roof often rang with the merry shouts and songs of 
 man}- an O and Mac, as they quaffed deeply from 
 the wassail bowl, or the huge wine stoups and 
 flagons of the olden time. The 'Earl's Chamber,' 
 (so called from having been the favorite apartment 
 of the late Lord Clancarty), overhangs the Comanc. 
 It is a narrow, vaulted room, with a tiled floor, 
 lighted by a projecting bay window, and with some 
 tattered remnants of tapestry hanging from the 
 walls. On the very topmost point of the castle is 
 that miraculous stone to which the castle, and, in- 
 deed, Blarney itself, is chiefly indebted for its ce- 
 lebrity, neither the keep nor the place being in- 
 vested with much historical or legendary interest. 
 The virtues of the stone are said to be derived from 
 the cannon of Broghill, by which it was displaced. 
 It was subsequently secured in its position, where 
 it is duly and often kissed by pilgrims from almost 
 every land. Among these was Sir Walter Scott, 
 who, in August, 1825, applied a credulous osculta- 
 tation on the stone. This magic stone imparts the 
 gift of telling what is commonly termed a 'bouncer,' 
 with the most imperturbable countenance, and a 
 tongue so -»heedling and dulcet, as to render him 
 who has paid homage to its shrine irresistable among 
 the fairer portion of the human family. 
 
 The genuineness of the stone, however, is dis- 
 puted, and another is considered as the veritable 
 one. It is in the face of the outer wall, about 
 eight feet from the sumn-it, and from its position 
 the attempt to kiss it would be attended with great 
 danger. At the base of the eastle, on the northern 
 side, are situated the prisons. They consist of two 
 gloomy holes, the inner one so pitch dark and ill- 
 ventilated that it must have been a horrible place 
 of punishment for the hapless prisoners who were 
 confined there. A little to the west of the donjons 
 is the 'cave,' a low, dark, subterranean passage, in 
 which the following lines occur in the well-known 
 ballad, 'The Groves of Blarney' — 
 
 •F or 'tis there's the cave where no daylight enters. 
 But bats and badgers are forever bred; 
 
 Being moss'd by natur, that makes it sweeter 
 Than a coach and ^ix or a feather bed.' 
 
 The fine family mansion of the Jeffreys adjoined 
 the eastle; but a w ayward member of it, 'more Hi- 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 155 
 
 bernico," had it totally dismantled, in order, it is I verse from which we quote at the head of our ar- 
 
 said, to make a ruin in keepinf^ with the old fortiil- | 
 ice! This gentleman also sold the statues that once 
 adorned the groves, and whifh, though rudely 
 east, invested the place with a classic elegance that 
 heightened its natural charms. Father 'I'rout,' the 
 living representative of the late erudite presbyter of 
 Wtttergrass Hill, thus bewails their loss: — 
 
 Ob! the muse shed a tear 
 When the cruel auotioueer, 
 
 ■\Vith a hammer in his hnnil to sweet lilainey came! 
 And, again, referring 'to their purchaser. Sir 
 Thomas Deaue — 
 
 Who bought the castle furniture and fixtures, O! 
 Aud toolioiriu a cart, 
 ("I'was euougli to break one's heart,) 
 All the statues made of lead, and the pictures, O! 
 Quitting the old keep, with its reminiscences of 
 the past, and its weather-stained, time-worn walls, 
 we must glance at the other attractions of Blarney. 
 Of these, the groves ai'e among the most prominent. 
 The grounds are thickly planted with stately trees, 
 which, interlaced in many places overhead, afford 
 an emerald canopy, that shields from the ardent 
 heat of the summer sun. Verdant glades spread 
 away on all sides, through which the sunlight plays 
 with a misty shimmer, and beneath which the dap- 
 pled kine are seen to stray. These glades are alter- 
 nated with expanses of rich grazing land, and care- 
 fully cultivatad ground under crops; for the present 
 proprietor, St. John Jeffreys, Esc^., is well skilled 
 in farming, adopting all the improvements of drain- 
 ing, subsoiling, &c., introduced by the late Mr. 
 Smith, ofDeanstown, of agronomial renown. 
 
 In the immediate, vicinity of the castle is situated 
 the 'Rockclose.' This is an enclosed space of a few 
 acres of ground, very tastefully laid out. Masses 
 of rock, covered with lichens and heath-blossoms 
 ares skillfully arranged, so as to appear as if they 
 were the natural productions of the soil. Shady 
 . retreats and arbors are disposed in positions which 
 command charming prospects of the surrofinding 
 scenery ; in a word, nature here is dressed, but not 
 disguised, by art. 
 
 A flight of steps, roofed in by massive stones, 
 leads down to a verdant inch, laved by the waters 
 of the Comane. This is known as 'the Witch's 
 Stairs,' and certainly this gloomy passage has an 
 eldritch aspect, well-suited for the unholy rites of 
 the weird sisterhood. Adjoining these stairs is the 
 •witches' kitchen,' a fire-place cut out of the rock. 
 On the inch, to which we have referred, stands a 
 Cromleagh of immense size, luxuriantly mossed and 
 lichened. This primitive altar attests that the 
 Druidical worship of Baal was once celebrated in 
 Blarney, and proves its importance at a very early 
 period. 
 
 About midway in the well-wooded park the lake 
 spreads its glassy sheet of water. It is nearly half 
 a mile in circumference, and is of considrable 
 depth. Among the fishes with which the song says 
 it is 'well stored,' is a knowing red trout, who ob- 
 stinately refused to be blarnied into taking a 'bite.' 
 A legend records that, on fine .summer nights a 
 number of enchanted cows rise from the lake, and 
 pasture on its banks. "While feeding they are 
 milked by fairies, 'deeny-dawny little crathers,' as 
 our cicerone said. This milk is said to possess such 
 healing properties that a thimblefuU of it, it is 
 averred, would restore the weakliest of mortals to 
 vigorous health. As happens usually with beings 
 pertaining to the spiritual world who visit our 
 sphere, the enchanted cattle and the tiny elves 
 vanish at cock-crow. Tradition also asserts that 
 the last scion of the Clancarthys buried the family 
 plate in the lake, and that the part of it in which 
 the treasure is hidden is never to be divulged until 
 one of the race regains their ancient inheritance. 
 
 The attractions of Blarney have been extolled in 
 various songs. The best known of these is 'The 
 Groves of Blarney,' by Kichard Millikin, of Cork, a 
 
 tide. From another ballad, less popular, but quite 
 as humorous, styled, 'Blarney Castle, my darling,' 
 we shall transcribe a few stanzas. After lamenting 
 the dilapidated state of the castle, the poet pro- 
 ceeds; — 
 
 'Bad 'cess to that robber, old Cromwell, and to nil 
 
 his long battering train, 
 Who rolled over here like a porpoise, in two or 
 
 three hookers from Spain ; 
 And because that he was a Freemason, he mounted 
 
 a batleriug ram, 
 And he loaded it up of dumb powder, which 
 in at its mouth he did cram. 
 
 'It was now the poor boys of the castle looked over 
 
 the battlement wall. 
 And they saw that rutiian, old Cromwell, 
 
 a feeding upon powder aud ball, 
 And the fellow that married his daughter, with 
 
 a great big grape shot in his jaw 
 'Xwas bald I-er ton they called him, and he 
 
 was his brother-in-law.' 
 
 The ballad then mentions a singular effect of 
 Cromwell's diab'^lical art; — 
 
 'Black Cromwell he made a dark signal, 
 
 For in the black art he was deep ; 
 So, though the eyes in the people stood open. 
 
 They found themselves all fast asleep.' 
 
 The following is Father Front's version of the 
 last verse of this amusing song: — 
 
 'Then the gates he burned down to a cinder. 
 And the root he demolished likewise. 
 
 On, the rafters, they flamed out like tinder. 
 And the building flared up to the skies. 
 
 And he gave the estate to the Jeffers, 
 With the dairy, the cows, aud the hay. 
 
 And they lived there in clover, like heifers, 
 As their ancestors do to this day.' 
 
 In treating of Blarney, we cannot omit an event 
 so interesting as the visit of the Prince of Wales to 
 this shrine for imparting fluent and mendacious 
 tongues. His royal hiehnes^, accompanied by the 
 gentlemen of his suite, proceeded from Cork in a 
 'jaunting car.' After exercising his lungs and legs 
 in climbing the broken stone staircase to the top, 
 being doubtful which of the rival stones was the 
 true one, he declined to kiss either, in reference to 
 which abstentation on the part of the prince, the 
 following verse occurs in a sneering doggrel, which 
 appeared in Punch, and which attempts to be witty 
 at the expense of our warm feelings, forgetting that 
 the flunkeyism (e.xouse the vulgarism) of English- 
 men, not alone to royalty, but to all great person- 
 ages, is sometimes disgusting to behold. 
 
 'And Captain de Ros, too, it's well he was close to 
 
 The royal oftspring, his legs to secure. 
 While Biddy Casey, that keeps the kays, she 
 
 Was takin' it aisy on the secood flure. 
 Little she was dhramin' how the Prince was schamin', 
 
 To be let cranin' down over the wall. 
 For a kiss o' the stone there, which it's well known there. 
 
 Makes a man a deludher, for good aud all.' 
 
 The 'groves' are a favorite resort of pic-nic par- 
 ties from Cork, and, from the exuberant joviality 
 which prevails at them, it would seem as it the pic- 
 nickers (to mint an expression), were inspired by 
 the miraculous stone, whose peculiar virtues per- 
 meate the surrounding atmosphere, and penetrate 
 even to Dr. Barter's hydropathic establishment, 
 where the patients, stimulated, doubtless, by the 
 magic influence of the stone, are always lively and 
 chatty. 
 
 We must close here for the present, as it will re- 
 quire another article to describe this tine establish- 
 ment. 
 
 The Comkt One of *he grandest comets men- 
 tioned in history is at present visible to the naked 
 eye in the heavens. Its first appearance is not ac- 
 curately defined, although it is presumed to be the 
 same as the one which appeared A. D. 104, and 
 again in the summer of 683, and it is thoroughly 
 identified with that which made its appearance in 
 August, 976, in the summer of I'iOl, and in the 
 spring of 1556, The advent of this wanderer in 
 12G4 is recorded in terms of wonder and astonish- 
 ment by nearly all the historians of the age. It 
 was at the height of its splendor in August and the 
 first of September. Both European and Chinese 
 authorities testify to its enormous magnitude. The 
 tail appeared fully one hundred degrees in length, 
 and in China it appeared curved like a sabre. Its 
 movement was from Leo, through Cancer and 
 Gemini, into Orion. It continued visible until the 
 second of October, the night of the death of Pope 
 Urban IV., of which event it was considered the 
 precursor. At the close of February, 15.56, this 
 comet again became vsible in the constellation 
 Virgo, and was closely observed by Paul Fabricius, 
 astronomer at the court of the Emperor Charles V., 
 at Vienna, and its course, which lay through Virgo 
 and Bootes, past the pole of the heavens in Cepheus 
 and Cassiopea, was traced and. published the same 
 year by Lycosthenes, or Conrad Wolfhardt, at Nu- 
 remberg. It was last seen by the Europeans about 
 the end of the third week in .\pril, and by the Chi- 
 nese about the tenth of May. Dr. Halley calcu- 
 lated the elements of the comet of 1556, from the 
 observations of Fabricius; and Mr. Dunthorne, fifty 
 years later, attempted the determination of the orbit 
 of the comet of 1264, and the results were so simi- 
 lar that the two bodies were declared to be identi- 
 cal, and the period being about 292 years, Mr. 
 Dunthorne expected a reappearance about 1848. 
 His memoir is published in the Transactions of the 
 Royal Society of London. About twenty years 
 later, M. Pingre examined the subject critically, 
 and arrived at the same conclusion which Mr. Dun- 
 thorne had drawn. This valuable memoir on the 
 subject was published by the French Academy in 
 1760. Between 1843 and 1847, Mr. ffind. Secre- 
 tary to the Koyal Astronomical Society of London, 
 made a careful calculation of the orbit of this comet 
 upon the basis of Fabricius and the chart of Lycos- 
 thenes, correcting some manifest errors not noticed 
 by Pingre. After making due allowance for de- 
 lays and perturbations caused by conjunction with 
 the planets, Mr. Hind prognosticated a reappear- 
 ance at the next perihelion of the comet, about the 
 second of August, 1858. We can testify to the 
 wonderful accuracy of his calculations. 
 
 It is stated that the number of absolutely vicious 
 newspapers sold yearly in England is 11,702,000. In- 
 fidel and polluting publications have a yearly eircu- 
 
 Fate of the Apostles. — St. Matthew, the apostle 
 and evangelist, is supposed to have suffered martyr- 
 dom, or to have been slain with a sword at a city in 
 Ethiopia. St. Mark was dragged through the streets 
 of Alexandria in Egypt, until he expired. St. Luke 
 was hanged upon an olive tree in Greece. St. John 
 was put into a cauldron of boiling oil, and escaped 
 death ; he afterwards died a natural death at Ephesus. 
 St. Peter was crucified at Rome, his head downwards, 
 at his own request, thinking himself unworihy to die 
 in the same posture anil manner as his lilcssed Master. 
 St. James the Less was thrown from a pinacle or 
 tower wing of the Temple, and then beaten to death 
 with a fuller's club. St. Philip was hanged up against 
 a pillar at Hieropolis, a city of Phrygia. St. Bartholo- 
 mew was flayed alive by command of a barbarous 
 king. St. Andrew was bound to a cross, whence he 
 preached to the people until he expired. St. Thomas 
 was run through the body with a lauce at Coromandel, 
 in the. East Indies. St. Jude was shot to death with 
 arrows. St. Simon Zelotes was crucified in Persia. 
 
 lation of 110,400,000; periodicals of the worst class, St. Matthias was lirst stoned and then beheaded. St. 
 520,000. The circulation of innoxious publications Barnabas of the Gentiles was stoned to death by the 
 is less extensive bv several millions. Moral and en- ;ews at Salonicai. St. Paul was beheaded at Rome 
 lightened England! I by the tyrant Ncrc. 
 
156 
 
 IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 (Written lor the>Iiscellaiiy.l 
 THE EMIGRANT'S FAREWELL. 
 
 JcMy ilurliii', I miiM Ictivr lliuo, 
 
 Tu other luiids ulur I roam, 
 
 Oh: let not our purling grieve thee, 
 
 I go to tieek for tliee » home. 
 
 Uy heavy heart I leave with thee. 
 
 And lighter feel to Jouruoy on, 
 
 For well I Icnow you'll think on me. 
 
 And pray lor Dermod when he'tf gone. 
 
 Uow Dad our fate that naught reiievea. 
 To 6oe our country '0 sad decay. 
 For all the Lord ■ above ' un gives. 
 The lord ' below ' soon takes away ; 
 Thus am I driven to forrin parts, 
 Tbo' smiling plenty round nie lies, 
 For *t is the ' rent ' has ' rent ' our hearts, 
 And bath'd in team thy soft blue eyes. 
 
 How sweet it iviu in by-gone times 
 To ' see the plow ' reward our toil ; 
 But uow we leave for other climes. 
 And 'plow the sea,' but not the soil. 
 For oh ! the cruel landlord spurs 
 Our father's prayers, our mother's tears— 
 Ueeds not their age, but rudely turns 
 Tliem from the home of happier years. 
 
 Our cow acrO!« iiis fields had fled, 
 And fur a pound, in ' pound ' he put her; 
 We liad none else to give us ' bread,' 
 And did not look for any ' but-her ' ; 
 And there he kept her many a day, 
 Wliile we with grief were overpowcr'd; 
 She died — w« fell, but dare not say. 
 That our • brave " landlord was a ' cow-herd.' 
 
 The rent was due— the cow was dead— 
 The pig was seized- the corn taken — 
 We prayed for food; he laughed and .^aid, 
 I'our bread is baked, your pig is ' bakin.' 
 The little ass you used to ride, 
 Hy Jessy dear, on market day. 
 Be took that too; the children cried 
 To see it kick'd ard led away. 
 
 'We toiled and starved while lite held on, 
 And how we lived lie never axed us, 
 Till land and food, aye all was gone. 
 With les.1 to give, the more he ta.\ed us. 
 Our clargy, too, we could not pay ; 
 But then for his lie took our praties; 
 I'hus for his sowl we paid, to pray 
 But oh: it got our curses gratis. 
 
 See: where yon sun now sinks to rest, 
 There lies the land our home sliull be. 
 With Freedom, plenty, doubly blest, 
 And thou to share it. love, with me. 
 Hark ! 't is the bell— one last embrace, 
 Until for thee I send or come. 
 To lead thee to that happy place. 
 My Jessy dear, thy Western home. 
 
 J. MacE — 
 
 (Written for the Miscellany.) 
 
 NOTES FROM A JOURNAL. 
 
 BT J. E. F. 
 
 No. 13. — Sights in the Metropolitan City. 
 
 Rough as was our couch, and trouhled though our 
 dreams lost night, we arose tiiuch refreshed. The ad- 
 ventures of the previous day and evening seemed at 
 first bat a dream, but when we surveyed our bed- 
 chamber, and recollected our ghostly visitant, who 
 wanted us to 'move over,' we were forced to believe 
 that the scenes were truly real. 
 
 Making our toilet as best we could, we followed the 
 example of our room-males, and 'went below.' A 
 substantial breakfa-st was awaiting the 'gintlcmin from 
 Amerikey,' and as it looked tempting, we did not keep 
 it waiting long. Wc were asked several (jucstions 
 about America; if it was 'true they burned no turf at 
 all, at all, but burned timber in iron boxesl' One man 
 asked me my opinion as to 'the best place to go to, 
 New York or the United Staees?' 
 
 We now called for our bill, and after sundry calcu- 
 lations between our 'landlord' and 'landlady,' they told 
 US that the sum total was eighteen cents; three cents 
 each for our bed, and six cents each for our breakfast! 
 Living must be cheap in Abbeyfeale. 
 
 Leaving our 'hotel,' we proceeded to a coach-office, 
 hired a post-car to go to AskeatOD, and we went thence 
 to Limerick by rail. 
 
 The following morning found us on board the cars, 
 steaming it for Dublin, where we arrived early in the 
 afternoon. We >)uiirtcred ourselvci ul the Angel 
 Hotel, Inns Quay, anil after dinner strolled down to 
 sec some friends go oH" in the Liverpool steainor. 
 There were seemingly many emigrants preparing to 
 go on board on their way to America, and on looking 
 at ilio ro,«y checks of the women, the ruddy, liealililul 
 look of the men, and contrasting them with the chuiige 
 America would produco in a few years, 1 could not 
 help cursing the laws which forced them to seek else- 
 where that freedom which they are here denied, and 
 that reward for their labor which is here refused them. 
 
 But hark! the hell of tlio steamer sounds, lo give 
 warning to those who arc not passengers to go ashore. 
 Now are the parting embraces given, and the last 
 adieus said. Many persons came as fur as Dublin to 
 see their friends oft", and here they part with them for 
 a time, but many, nias, forever. 
 
 I noticed two incidents here which made a deep im- 
 pression on my memory, and I asked myself the ques- 
 tion why it was that a people loving their country like 
 the Irish would not themselves lie masters of her soil. 
 An old woman, apparently about si.vty, sat on a 
 box on the dock before the steamer Wt. I stood close 
 to her, and saw her open a piect of paper, then sti. op- 
 ing down, fill it with dust, and carefully put it in her 
 bosom. I was curious to know why she did it, and 
 asked her, when she told me that her daughter, who 
 was sick in America, requested her lo bring out some 
 Irish earth, to be placed in her coftin when she died, 
 I have rend of the Irishman who made a request that 
 the sod of lurf which he had with hira mi;.ht be placed 
 with him in his 'narrow house ' when he died; but here 
 I was witness to a real scene, and believed that which 
 I formerly doubted. 
 
 The second was this— Leaning against the bulwarks 
 and aloof f. om the general confusion, I noticed a tall, 
 muscular-looking Irishman, dressed in a frieze coat 
 and knee-breeches, with a little bundle on the end of 
 a stick over his shoulder He seemed agitated, and 
 frequently threw down the bundle, as if he was going 
 to step ashore, and then pick it up again. The second 
 bell struck; he sprung over the side of the steamer, 
 and kneeling down, kissed the ground, saying, 'Ould 
 Ireland, I'll kiss you before I leave you forever,' and 
 then jumped on board the steamer as it slowly moved 
 out. 
 
 Crossing the Liffey by Carlisle Bridge, we wended 
 our way through streets, lanes and alleys to St. Pat- 
 rick's Cathedral. Sending a youngster to the sexton's 
 hou.se tor the key, he sent his daughter (by the way a 
 very handsome girl,) to conduct us through its lofty 
 aisles. Previous to the Reformation it was a Catholic 
 church, but since then it belongs to the established 
 church, that is, the church established by the English 
 law in Ireland. 
 
 The first object of interest shown us was the tomb 
 of the eccentric and well-known Dean Swift, one of 
 the most celebrated wits that ever lived. Next to this 
 is a slab to the memory of his 'friend,' Mrs. Hester 
 Johnson, better known to the literary world as 'Stella.' 
 There are numerous monuments to archbishops, 
 bishops, &c., some centuries old, and there are also 
 slabs to the memory of soldiers who fell in the Bor- 
 mese and Crimean wars. Over the grave of some 
 soldiers of the 18ih Royal Irish are two Hags which 
 that gallant corps carried in England's war from '37 
 to '50, and the way in which these flags are riddled, 
 proves the gallant ISih nobly did their duty for the 
 arch enemy of freedom. 
 
 On the wall, near the ceiling, are flags ranged all 
 along, which belong to the knights of St. Patrick. 
 Xe.ir ilie iiiiiin. union table is a cunnon ball suspended 
 by a. chain, said to be the one by which Gen. St. Ruth 
 was killed at the battle of Aughrim. Near the door is 
 a small tablet to the memory of Swift's servant, Alex- 
 ander McGee, erected by the Dean 'in memory of his 
 discretion, diligence, and fidelity in that humble sta- 
 tion.' Leaving this gloomy mausoleum of the dead, 
 which was interesting to us as containing so many 
 objects of antiquity, and doubly interesting when 
 
 I described by our fair conductress, who was very intel 
 ' lectuale. Wcame down Dame street, and entered the 
 I grounds adjoining 1'rinity College. Here wo met 
 I many of the students, in cap and gown, poring over 
 I huge volumes. What a host of lunjiiiaries the classic 
 j walls of Old Trinity have sent into the world! 
 
 The shadas of evening warned us to depart, so we 
 came out and turm d down Westmoreland street to 
 [ Cai lisle Bridge. From here a good view of Dublin 
 hy gaslight can bo had. Sackville street, with its 
 splendid stores and crowded sidewalks; the Lifley re- 
 flecting back the countless lamps which line its sides; 
 the numerous boats plying U]) and down beneath your 
 feet; and the endless number of jaunting-cars flying 
 pa-st you, gives tt good idea of the Metrojiolitan City 
 by gas-light. 
 
 [To be Continued.] 
 
 (For the Irish Miscellany.) 
 
 Niiw Haven, Conn., Oct. 11. — The 26th of Octo- 
 ber will long be held in grateful, remembrance by the 
 Catholic population of New Ilaven, it being the oc- 
 casion of the consecration of divine 'worship of an- 
 other church, under the name and auspieccs of St. 
 John, the apostle and tlie evangelist, which was 
 dedicated by the Right Rev. Praucis P. McFarland, 
 bishop of the Diocess, assisted by the Rev. John 
 Smith the pastor, and Rev. E. J. O'Brien, of St. 
 Mary's, M. Hart, of St. Patrick's, llcndrickson of 
 Waterbury, Lynch of Birmingham, and Smith of 
 Bridgeport. The sermon was preached by the justly 
 celebrated Father Larkin, S. I., who selected his 
 te.xt from the first verse of the eighty-third psalm, 
 ' How lovely are thy tabernacles, O Lord of hosts 
 — my soul longeth and fainteth for the courts of the 
 Lord.' To attempt to give a rei)ort of the sermon 
 would do injustice to the illustrious preacher ; suf- 
 ficient to sny it was one of the most eloquent dis- 
 courses ever delivered in this city,replete with Chris- 
 tian sentiments, a vast store of theological love and 
 philosophical reasoning. The edifice is built on the 
 same spot occupied by the first Catholic church in 
 this city, which was destroyed by fire some ten 
 years since, and adjoining is the old Catholic bury- 
 ing-ground, in which repose many of the early Irish 
 settlers and some of their descendants. The build- 
 ing is of the Celtic style of architecture, which was 
 prevalent in Ireland during the eleventh and twelfth 
 centuries, and reflects great credit on the architect, 
 Mr. P. A. Keeley of New York, and the principal 
 builder, Capt. Thomas W. Cahill of this city. 
 
 In the afternoon the Right Kev. Bishop delivered 
 an instructive and interesting discourse on the 
 ' Sacremcnt of the Eneharist.' Twenty-four years 
 ago, the first church (Christ Church) was dedicated. 
 Then there were scarcely two hundred of a Catholic 
 population ; now there are three large and hand- 
 some churches, with a Catholic population of about 
 ten thousand. • 
 
 Vii-AFRANCA. — The harbor of Villafranca was 
 taken possession of fraudulently by Louis Xl\'. in 1691, 
 and he kept it forcibly for five years. France took it 
 again in 1705 after a terrific siege, and it was only re- 
 stored to Savo.i by the treaty of Utrecht. Again was 
 siege laid to it. and a sea blockade by a combined 
 French and Spanish ficel in 1044 — 60,000 men were in 
 camp on the land side, and the King of Savoy was 
 forced to take refuge on board an English squadron, 
 while this army fell back on the Vado. Marshal Bel- 
 lisle recover! d it again fiom Savoy for France, 1746. 
 It seems this insignificant ' coal box ' was worth 
 fighting for in those days. 
 
 By a telegram from Tnrin it appears that the Pied- 
 monicsc Ga/.ettc, which is the official journal, declares 
 that the pretended sale said to have been made to 
 Russia of the port of Villalranca consists in the 
 simple gratuitous concession of an abandoned estab- 
 lishment for convicts, which is to be transfered into a 
 depot for coals and stores. 
 
IKISH xMISCELLANY. 
 
 157 
 
 FOREIGN INTELLIGENCE. 
 
 IRELAND. 
 
 G.iLWAY AND Amisrioa. — Who that visited the 
 good city of the Tribes, even so late as twelve montlis 
 ngo, would have believed it would at this moment ho 
 the very centre of attraction, as it were, of the United 
 Kingdom ? Parliament is not sitting, the queen is 
 gone to Scotland ; everybody, therefore, is any and 
 everywhere but in the Babylon of England, which, for 
 the nonce, and as far as novelty goes, might as well he 
 called the great desert of Zahara. Liverpool, Man- 
 chester, Belfast, and last, though not least, even Dub- 
 lin, now that the cardinal is gone or going, are dull 
 and drear}' sojourns. News there is none, and conver- 
 sation flags, save and except when it turns on the 
 Lever line, and a cheap, expeditious, and pleasant trip 
 across the broad Atlantic and back. Never did fairy 
 wand work more sudden and wonderful changes than 
 a brief month or two have witnessed in he city of Gal- 
 way. A seven days' voyage from that noble port to 
 America has actually become a fact, as Brother Jona- 
 than would exclaim. Of all the fast men of the day 
 commend us to Mr. John Orrell Lever. Here is a 
 private gentleman, who, whilst the world around him 
 stands spell-bound, petrified, and lost in wonderment 
 at his venturing even one argosy on such a speculation, 
 suddenly employs vessel af.er vessel in the same enter- 
 prise, till he has nearly brought a little Armada to- 
 gether. The passage, which some few years ago was 
 a terrible undertaking, now becomes almost a pleasant 
 pastime. Everything is done to render it agreeable — 
 the invariable courtesy of the officers — the admirable 
 accommodation— the excellent ' cuisine,' the good 
 cheer, and the good company. Passengers are already 
 more numerous, and goods for transit more plentiful 
 than the vessels, though so capacious, will carry. The 
 Prince Albert, which sailed on Tuesday for New York, 
 had all htr berths engaged, and so large was the quan- 
 tity of merchandize sent for shipment that she was 
 .compelled to leave a considerable portion behind. — 
 The importance of Galway as a commercial port is, 
 therefore, already unquestioned, and the benefits it 
 must produce to England as well as Ireland are re- 
 garded by those most competent to form a correct 
 opinion on the subject as far beyond present calcula- 
 tion. All that is required to render success doubly 
 sure, and the results doubly more beneficial in every 
 respect, is substantial aid and co-oporation on the part 
 of Government. This, after the fair promises which 
 have been so temptingly held out, will, we sincerely 
 trust, not be found wanting. There mast be no lagging, 
 no niggardliness, no hesitation, no too nice a balancino' 
 at a juncture when, for the first time since the union 
 of the two countries, there appears a reasonable hope 
 for prosperity to Ireland. England and Ireland may 
 be likened to two sisters, one of whom has received 
 her mairiage dower and her inheritance, whilst the 
 other is left to struggle on for herself, without parental 
 assistance, encouragement, orcountenanceof any kind. 
 It is time that there should be an end to this unfair 
 division of substance, this inequitable law of primo- 
 geniture, leaving one of the same family friendless and 
 forlorn, whilst the other is pampered with luxuries 
 and overladen with wealth. Ireland, through Galvvay, 
 makes a just demand ; let England be as just in con- 
 ceding it, and with as good a grace as she applies her 
 millions to the strengthening of her coast defences the 
 embellishment of her cities, and the convenience, com- 
 fort, and accommodation of her peeplo wherever their 
 interest or well-being may require the outlay. — [Cath- 
 olic Telegraph. 
 
 We may live to see the capitalists of Lancashire 
 making Galway a great cotton port, and setting up 
 their mills and looms in the west of Ireland, and thus 
 evadinu that heavy toll which Liverpool levies upon 
 Lancashire, and through Lancashire upon Great 
 Britain and the world. If this is ever done it will not 
 be done in a day, bat every improvement in the west of 
 Ireland, every step towards order, industry, and con- 
 tentment, will render it more probable and feasible 
 
 [Globe. 
 
 The Tenant Rioiit Question. — On Tuesday a 
 large and influential meeting of the friends and pro- 
 moters of the Tenant llight cause was held at Mill- 
 street, in this county. The proceedings excited a 
 rather unusual stir in this remote country town, the 
 streets, from an early hour in the forenoon, being 
 thronged with substantial looking farmers from 
 the country for many miles around, who had come 
 to attend the meeting, while a large number of cler- 
 gymen also arrived for the same purpose. The 
 baronies of Duhallow and Muskerry were very fully 
 represented, numbers having come from the districts 
 of Newmarket, Kanturk, Bonteer, Shinnagh, Ma- 
 croom, AhaboUogue, Clonrohid, Sec, &c. 
 
 It has been calculated that upwards of 4,000 visi- 
 tors have taken up their quarters at the Royal Vic- 
 toria Hotel during the present season. Judging 
 from this number, and the vast numbers that have 
 been at the railway, the lake, and the other hotels 
 in the neighborhood, irrespective of lodging-houses, 
 there must have been at least 20,000 visitors at Kil- 
 larny during the present season. On one occasion 
 lately an accurate census of the number who slept 
 in the different hotels on a certain Saturday night 
 was taken and found to be 526. — [Tralee Chronicle. 
 
 Fortification of Spike Island. — We have 
 learned from a correspondent that it has been deter- 
 mined greatly to strengthen and extend the defences 
 at Spike Island, which occupies so commanding a 
 position at the entrance of the harbor to Queens- 
 town. For a long time there has been a convict 
 depot on Spike Island ; but our correspondent states 
 that some of .the convicts have already been removed 
 to other establishments, and that it is in contempla- 
 tion ultimately to break up the depot there. It is 
 understood that all the defences in Queenstown, 
 including Carslile and Camden Forts are to be 
 placed in the highest state of efficiency. — [Mercan- 
 tile Advertiser. 
 
 On Monday evening the Clonmel exhibition 
 rooms were thrown open for the benefit of the work- 
 ing classes, the charge of admission being only one 
 penny. On repairing to the court-house to ascer- 
 tain if the opportunity was availed of by the people, 
 we were glad to learn that so great was the demand 
 for the tickets that the efficient manager, Mr. Wor- 
 shop, was, after a short space of time, obliged to 
 order the police to keep the doors closed and refuse 
 further admittance, so speedily and densely were the 
 rooms thronged. Large numbers of people assem- 
 bled in the hall and waited anxiously their turn to 
 enter, according as the crowds lessened by the de- 
 parture of those who had gratified their laudible 
 curiosity, and all were delighted with the very 
 pleasing retreat which had been afforded them. — 
 [Press. 
 
 Mr. Wra. L. Cole, editor of the Irish American, 
 New York, who is taking a tour through Ireland, in- 
 jured his foot by accidentally sliding off a rock, while 
 crossing the Gap of Dunloe, Killarney. He is at the 
 Railway Hotel, under the care of Dr. Murphy, who 
 thinks that the accident is not serious. 
 
 great BRITAIN. 
 
 Opposition to Machinery in England. — The 
 application of machinery to the manufacture of 
 boot tops has been the cause of considerable alarm 
 to the cordwainers of Stafford, where the large ma- 
 jority of the population, male and female, are en- 
 gaged in that manufacture. Several attempts have 
 been made by the manufacturers to introduce the 
 machine into Stafford, but they have been as fre- 
 quently and promptly oppo.sed by the workpeople. 
 Wiih the view, however, of producing goods at a 
 cheaper rate, and thereby maintaining a standing in 
 the home market, Messrs Newell and Springthorpe, 
 shoe manufacturers, called their workmen together 
 last week, and intimated their intention of using 
 the machine, and issuing machine-bound tops for 
 them to mako up, to which the workmen declined 
 
 to give any answer, stating that they must first con- 
 sult the trade societies. Accordingly, a meeting of 
 the trade societies was convened for Tuesday night, 
 at the Cow and Hare public house, and after a 
 lengthened and patient consideration of the subject 
 they decided upon resisting the introduction of the 
 machine. Another meeting was also called by the 
 public crier, and about 2,000 persons of both sexes 
 assembled between six and seven o'clock in the new 
 covered market. Mr. Newell was present, and ad- 
 dressed the meeting. He contended that it was 
 perfectly useless for them to oppose the progress of 
 machinery, and argued that such opposition, if per- 
 sisted in, would have the effect of injuring the trade 
 of the town. On the other side, several operatives 
 addressed the meeting. They drew a most deplor- 
 able picture of the poverty and destitution the use 
 of machines would entail on their homes. A reso- 
 lution, pledging themselves not to manufacture any 
 machine-turned tops was passed amid acclamation 
 by the whole meeting, not a single hand being held 
 up against it. The artizans appear to be in an un- 
 settled state. 
 
 Meeting of the British B.\rd3 at Llangollen. 
 — Most extensive preparations have been made in 
 this, the 'loveliest of vales,' for the coming forsedd, 
 accompanied by an eistedfod, and with the royal 
 chair of Powis, will commence on Tuesday, and 
 extend over three successive days. It being the 
 greatest possible event that the real Cymry (AV'elsh) 
 can boast of, and of which they are so justly proud, 
 an immense gathering is anticipated. The object 
 of the eisteddfod is to promote the study and culti- 
 vation of the poetry, music, and general literature 
 of the Cymry, to preserve the Welsh language, to 
 encourage native art and manufacture, and to res- 
 cue from oblivion the national usages o£the princi- 
 pality. Prizes to the amount of £.500 will be given 
 away to the most successful competitors in poetry, 
 prose, oratory, music, works of art, &c. Among 
 the prizes are £10 each to the male a.-d female who 
 shall wear, during the eisteddfod the most elegant 
 and appropriate dress in the national costume of 
 the principality. The meetings are to be held in a 
 marquee built for the occasion, at a cost of £200, 
 capable of accommodating 7,000 persons. 
 
 The Funeral Car of Napoleon I The fune- 
 ral car of Napoleon, now completed for transmis- 
 sion to Paris, was on Wednesday inspected by a 
 large number of visitors, the vehicle having been 
 placed near the Dial-square at the Royal Arsenal, 
 for the convenience of Mr. Butters, a photographic 
 artist, who attended with his apparatus, and took 
 several views. The car has been fitted up in a 
 most complete and superb manner. The drapery is 
 of black cloth, festooned and looped, and the front 
 and sides of the vehicle are hung with deep black 
 silk fringe and tassels. At each corner of the iron 
 rod a fine plume of black feathers is affi.xed. The 
 car will be carefully packed and forwarded to its 
 destination in a few days. 
 
 Upwards of 1000 68-pounders and other heavy 
 guns have recently been sent to the various ports 
 and towns on the English coast, the whole of which 
 are fully equipped, and are furnished with appli- 
 ances for projecting red-hot shell and other missiles 
 of the most destructive description. This number 
 does not include the large number of 18-pound bat- 
 tery guns, &c., which have likewise been applied to 
 the above named stations. 
 
 The Times strongly advise the purchase of the 
 Great Eastern for the Royal Navy to be used as a 
 floating ram, observing that ten yeai-s hence, when the 
 ship is no longer saleable. Parliament will be asked for 
 a million pounds to build just such a vessel from the 
 keel, and it will cost two million pounds. 
 
 It is intended, says the Bristol Mercury, that a 
 powerful steamer shall run between Bristol and 
 Galway, in connection with the Galway line of 
 American steamers. 
 
158 
 
 IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 IRISH MUSIC— THE HARPER O'CONNELLAN. 
 
 ThiTu is in'ilmps nuiliint; of wliicli an Irislinmii inny 
 reel more jiimly proud than the nniivc mvlodics of Ilia 
 country. Whuitvcr lone of feclinp llicy iissnme, 
 wlictlur of i-lietrfulncea or tfnikrness, of wild luerri- 
 mi'iii, or of iiii'|) sorrow, ihire is in ilitin a jjrnce and 
 delicacy of feeling' and a force and eurncslnc-s of pas- 
 sion, such Hs we in vnin look fiT in the nniional music 
 of any olher country in ilic world, and wliich, ns un 
 unerring iiidtx of national diaractcr is most honoral'le 
 to our little land of fO\>g. Our inisiiinnhle hard, 
 Tliomus Moore, lias trnd dcploralily in supposinu that 
 our line melodies must l>e of luoderii dale, because ' it 
 is dilHcull to conceive those polished specimens of the 
 art to be anterior to the dawn of modern improve- 
 ments.' True melody, the music of the soni, has no 
 mortal artist for its inventor ; it has hecn implanted in 
 man's nature «s a pure and heavenly fift l>y the great 
 Creator himself, and the greate.it masiers of the art in 
 modem days in vain attempt to rival the .soul possess- 
 int; and unnflVcted melodies ot the unlearned minstrels 
 ol ancient days. In what did the real secret of the 
 wizard Paganini's powers of nslonishinc or binding as 
 by a spell the feelings ol his hearers consist ? Not in 
 his extraordinary powers as an artist, great and match- 
 less as those powers were in mastering the ditheulties 
 of art — but in the deep passion, the entire soul which 
 he ihr«w into n simple melody. Those who remember 
 his performance of * the praytr ' by Rossini— the dead 
 Eileoce by which thousands were encliaintd — the palpi- 
 tating hearts, the streamingeyes— will lind how greatly 
 superior in its iffect a simple melody peiformed wiih 
 passionate exiris-ion is to the most elaborate and re- 
 fined labors of modern art. But it will be said this 
 magical melody is Italian. We reply it is not. It Is 
 bnt a slight variation of the well-known song, ' How 
 stands the glass around !' composed by our country- 
 man. General Wolfe, in the very soul and spirit of the 
 music of his country Our most beautilul melodies are 
 indeed the most simple and the most ancient; their 
 origin is involved in the dim obscurity of time. We 
 bad composers, however, within the last two centuries, 
 whose strains, while they betray an acquaintance with 
 the refinements of modern art still retain a great deal 
 of the simple and touching beauty that chacterises the 
 earlier melo<lies of our country. 
 
 Of the melodies of these musicians, thoseof Carolan, 
 the last great hard of Erin, are well known, but the 
 compositions of his immediate predecessor, Connellan, 
 are less familar to the public, and are far too little ap- 
 preciated. Unfortunately, but little is known of his 
 history, and but few of his melodies have been pre- 
 served, but those few are in their kind of unrivalled 
 beauty, and far superior to the compositions of Caro- 
 lan. From Mr. Hardiman's valuable ' Iri,-.h Min- 
 strelsy,' we learn that Thomas O'Connellan was born 
 at Cloony Mahon, in the county of Sligo, early in the 
 seyenteenth century, and died in Lough Gur, in the 
 county of Limeriik, sometime previous to the year 
 1700. Of the remaining airs generally attributed to 
 him are ' The Jointure.' ' If to a foreign clime I go.' 
 ' Love in secret,' which truly 'dallies with the inno- 
 cence of love like the old age.' ' I'lauxty Davis,' 
 which is known to the Scotch as ' The Battle of Killi- 
 crankey," and the ' Breach of Aughrim," which is more 
 popularly known under the name of -Farewell to 
 Lochaber." These latter melodies were introduced in- 
 to Scotland after his death by u brother of the deceased 
 bard, named Laurence. 
 
 According to tradition, the skill of O'Connellan as 
 a performer was etiual to his inventive powers a-s a 
 composer, and Mr. Ila.diman has preserved a little 
 Irish ode, addressed to him in praise of his matchless 
 powers, in a strain of poetic beauty worthy of the oc- 
 casion which gave it birth. We present it to our 
 readers in an English dress : — 
 
 Wherever liarp-notc ringetU 
 
 leroe's isle arouod, 
 Thy hand its swectuess Oingetb, 
 
 Sutpussing mortal souud. 
 Thy fpirit-music ep«;akc<tli 
 
 Abo\ L' the minstrel throng, 
 And thy rival vainiy seeketli 
 The bccral of thy toug. 
 
 lu the caatle, lo the thloldlug, 
 
 tu loreiKii kingly liall, 
 Thuu art muster of each feeling, 
 
 And honored Unit of all! 
 Thy wild and wizard linger 
 
 Stveeiieth chords unknuwu to art, 
 And nieludivs that linger 
 
 III the laemury of the heart! 
 
 Though fairy music slumhen 
 
 lt\ fu^e^t glude and hill, 
 111 ti.y unearthly numbers 
 
 Aien say 't Is living still! 
 All Its compass of wild sweetness 
 
 Thy master hand obeys, 
 As its fairy littiil Hcctiuss 
 
 O'er harp and heartstriug plays! 
 
 By thee the thrill of anguish 
 
 Is soniy lulled to rest ; 
 liy thee the hopes that languish 
 
 Rekiudled lu the breast. 
 Thy spirit cha.seth sorrow 
 
 Like morning mists away, 
 And gaily robes to-morrow 
 
 III the gladness of thy lay'. 
 — ILoughrea Journal. 
 
 Rising Star of Irelakd. — In consequence of the 
 enfranchisement of estates in Ireland by the operation 
 of the act providing for the removing of encumbrances 
 upon them, the introduction of a greater variety in 
 crops, and other measures, that kingdom has risen to a 
 good degree of prosperity. The rise of wages has been 
 further proinoted by the excessive emigration of iis 
 laboring population for several years to this and other 
 countries. A better husbandry has from these causes 
 succeeded the negligent and superticial culture of for- 
 mer times, and agricultural implements are being 
 brought into use still further to aid on the good work. 
 Nor can it be doubted that the establishment of Gal- 
 way for the port, whence a lino of a dozen steamers 
 will depart to various quarters of the globe, and to 
 which they will return, will cause it to expand to the 
 dimensions and opulence of a great city. This circum- 
 stance, together with the growing business of South- 
 ampton as a large maritime port, may perhaps impede 
 the hitherto rapid increase of Liverpool, situated be- 
 tween the two rising cities ; but the vast augmentation 
 of the commerce of the world will not sutler any of 
 thera to decay, though none will be likely to reach that 
 commercial supremacy which once entered into their 
 dreams. Ireland seems destined to shake the poppies 
 from iher brow, awake from her lethargy of centuries, 
 and run the race of successful adventure. The prolit- 
 able manufactures in her northern counties, the revival 
 of her agricultural labor, and now the termination of 
 the Atlantic telegraph within her soil, and the brilliant 
 commencement of commercial enterprise in Galway, 
 must send a magnetic influence into other parts of that 
 tine island, and arouse her from her ignoble slumbers 
 to a glorious destiny.— [Newark Daily Advertiser. 
 
 Warming and Ventilation. — M. Leon Duvoir, 
 a French ;acliiiect, has succeeded in warming and 
 ventilatihg the Neuker and Beaujon Hospitals, in ac- 
 cordance with the prescribed conditions, viz., keeping 
 up a permanent temperature 15 degrees centigrade, 
 maintaining a minimum ventilation of 60 cubic leet in 
 winter, and an eiiuivalent ventilaliou during the night 
 in other seasons, and providing each patient with 15 
 litres (about 27 pints) of water heated to 100 degrees. 
 The usual fires are sufficient to heat the water for 
 warming, and the external uir is admitted by means 
 of reservoirs placed in the garrets. Both in winter 
 and summer the air penetrates into the wards, through 
 vertical shafts immediately behind each patient's lied, 
 but in the former season it is warmed by previous con- 
 tact with the tubes for hot w.-ter. This system of 
 warming and ventilation is now applied to many pub- 
 lic buildings in Paris, among which we may mention 
 the Churches of the Madeleine and St. Surplice, the 
 Conservatory of Arts and Trades, the Institute, the 
 Imperial Mining Institution, and the Institution for 
 the Blind- 
 
 Wheii you bury animosity don't set a stone up over 
 its grayc. 
 
 VARIOUS ITEMS. 
 
 A FELLOW was brought to King James I., and it 
 was said he could eat a whole sheep at a meal. 'What 
 else can he do,' asked the king, 'more than olher men?' 
 •Nothing,' was the reply. 'Hang him, then,' said 
 James, 'for it is a pity a man should live who eats the 
 share of twenty men, and can do no more than one.' 
 
 A PitiNTKR'B Toast. — Woman, the fairest work of 
 creation. The edition being extensive, let no man bo 
 without a copy. 
 
 A GENTLEMAN Said at table that he wished he could 
 manage without servants, as they were more plague 
 than profit. 'Why not have a dumb waitirY' suggested 
 a fiieiid. 'Oh, no, 1 have tried them — they don't an- 
 swer.' 
 
 So.MB writer exclaims — 'What is beauty without 
 soap? ' Sometimes fashionable beauty is nothing with 
 soap. We have seen many a cheek from whidi the 
 beautiful rcdrose hue would vanish before that useful 
 article like a ghost before the sunrise. 
 
 A Dutchman was relating his marvellous escape 
 from drowning, when thirteen of his companions were 
 lost by the upsetting of a boat, and ho alone sayed. 
 'And how did you escape their fate?" a.sked one of the 
 hearers. 'I tid notco in te pote,' was the Dutehman'a 
 placid answer. 
 
 When young we trust ourselves too much, and wo 
 trust others too little when old. Rashness i« the error 
 of youth, timid cauti> n of age. Mauhood is the isth- 
 mus between the two exircines; the ripe, the fertile 
 season of action, when alone we can hope to find the 
 head to contrive, united with the hand to execute. 
 
 Proud men never have friends — neither in prosper- 
 ity, liccause they know nobodi; nor in adversity, be- 
 cause nobody knows them. 
 
 If a man be gracious to strangers, it shows that he 
 is a citizen of the world, and that his heart is no island 
 cut ofl' from olher lands, but a part of the continent 
 that joins them. 
 
 DuKi.vG the examination of a witness as to the lo- 
 cality of the stairs in a house, the counsel asked him, 
 'Which way did the stairs run?' The witnets, a noted 
 wag, replied that, 'One way they ran up stairs, but the 
 other way they ran down stairs. The learned coun- 
 sel winked his eyes, and then took a look at the ceil- 
 ing. 
 
 It is extraordinary how many defects we can dis- 
 cern in a friend after we have quarrelled with him. 
 The same remark applies to a woman after she has re- 
 jected us. 
 
 'CuFFY, why don't you kicic that dog?' 'What am 
 de use ob kickin' every cur what snarls at you? Don't 
 you know dat am de way he TaiiLs you to bring him 
 into notice?' 
 
 Friendship. — The light of friendship is like the 
 light of phosphorus — seen plainest when all around is 
 dark. 
 
 Cost of the Tender Passion. — Man's first love 
 is generally the cheapest — his last love the dearest. 
 
 The Washington correspondent of the New York 
 Times writes: — 'We had a little excitement the other 
 day in an elopement case. A young journeyman 
 printer in the printing office of Thomas Buell & 
 Blanchard ran off with the daughter of the Judge of 
 the Orphan's Court, two or three days since. Tlie 
 printer was poor, but perfectly honest and respectable. 
 The girl moved in the higher circles of life, and was 
 but sixteen. The judge and bis son came to the prin- 
 er's working olfice — with pistols and rawhide, say 
 some — and were very indignant; but, upon learning 
 that the couple had gone through the ceremonies cor- 
 rectlv, getting a license, and being mairied accoiding 
 to law, they were pacified, and both doubtless con- 
 cluded to make the best of it. 
 
 A SON of Hon. A. G. Talhott, M. C, cf Kentucky, 
 has made bis 'debut' in the ring as a clown. 
 
 Me.s- are said to be like bugles — the more brass they 
 contain, the farther you can hear them. 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 159 
 
 ADVERTISEMENTS 
 
 W. J. HENNESSY, 
 ARTIST, 
 
 No. 37 FRANKLIN STREET, 
 
 NEW YORK CITY. 
 
 FRANCIS GODFREY, 
 
 IMl'oini'.l! AM) liKSTOKEK OF 
 
 ITALIAN PAINTINGS, 
 AND MANUFACTURER OF GILT FRAMES, 
 
 12 FuANKLiN Street, Boston. 
 \ry Engravings, Lithographs, Crayons, &c., on sale. 
 
 MERCANTILE AND WRITING SCHOOL, 
 
 E. J. GLEESON, Master. 
 
 This School is now opened nt No. 23 Portland Street, 
 a few doors south of Dooley's Exchange Hotel, where a 
 select and limited number of the Youth of both sexes will 
 be admitted; time fromO A. M. to 12 M., and from 2 P. M 
 to 5 P. SI. 
 
 TERMS MODERA TE. 
 
 EVENING SCHOOL! 
 
 This school will be opened in the same place on the first 
 evening of next month, where adults and those of riper 
 years, will be carefully and assiduously instructed in the 
 various brauchtsotlearniu°-, suitable to their calling. 
 
 BOOK-KEEPIKG: 
 
 Mr. Gleeson ventures to say, and pledges himself without 
 hesitation, that he will qualify young gentlemen for the 
 Counting Room, in half the time that is consumed in simi- 
 lar institutions in this city, and at considerable less ex- 
 pense. 
 
 August 17th, 185S. aug28 
 
 FINE READY MADE CLOTHING 
 
 CUSTOM TAILORING. 
 
 SPEING OVERCOATS, 
 
 BUSINESS COATS, 
 
 FKOCK AND DKESS COATS, 
 
 PANTS AND VESTS, 
 Good. Sttlish, Well Made Garments, 
 Such as men of taste and good judgment will wear, can at 
 all times be found at our store. 
 Our aim is to produce for our customers the best Ready 
 Made Garments at the lowest possible prices pok 
 CASH. 
 
 Headers of this Journal are earnestly solicited to exam- 
 ine our goods before purchasing. 
 
 J W . SMITH & CO., 
 
 Dock Square, corker Elm Street. 
 myll tf 
 
 GENERAL TICKET OFFICE 
 
 —for the — 
 
 SOUTHERN AND WESTERN STATES 
 
 AND 
 
 THE CANADAS, 
 
 No. 2 ALJiANY Street, Boston. 
 
 EDWARD RYAN, Agent. 
 
 N. B.— Passage to and from Liverpool, and Bills of Ex- 
 change on England, Ireland and Scotland. 
 »P2-1 ly 
 
 NORTHERN HOUSE, 
 
 north square — BOSTON. 
 
 JOHN GLANCY Proprietor. 
 
 This House has rooms equal to any first class Hotel, and 
 permanent or transient Boarders can be accommodated 
 nearly one half cheaper than at any other House in the 
 City. 
 
 In the Reading Boom can be found all the morning and 
 evening papers, and periodicals of the day, together with 
 an extensive Lliii^iuv, for the free and o.vcliisiio uso o< 
 the Boarders. 
 
 N. B. Strangers visiting Boston, can always find this 
 House a Home. 
 
 GILMORE'S SALEM QUADRILLE BAND. E. UP- 
 TON, Jr., Prompter. Apply to P. S. GlLMORE, Es- 
 •ex House, Salem, Mass. Sm febl3 
 
 ADVERTISEMENTS. 
 
 THE IRISH VINDICATOR. 
 
 A WEEKLY NEWSPAI'ER, 
 
 TuE Best and Cheapest Published in America. 
 
 MOST WONDERFUL SUCCESS, 
 
 and has been pronounced by the Press and the Public to be 
 superior to any other Irish Weekly in the United States. 
 
 It contains each week, the very 
 
 Latest News prom every County in Ireland ; 
 
 Original and entertaining 
 
 - STORIES AND ANECDOTES, 
 
 and a variety of Miscellaneous Reading matter, of a charac- 
 ter which cannot fail to elevate and chasten the intel- 
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 TO THE INTERESTS OF IRISHMEN IN AMERICA, 
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 ONLY THREE CENTS A COPY. 
 
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 FOR ADVERTISING, 
 
 12 lines, single insertion SI. 00 | 12 lines, 1 month, S2.50 
 12 do. 3 months, 5.50 | 12 do. 1 year, 16.00 
 
 Published every week, at the Office, No 10 Spruce street. 
 New York, by the Proprietors. 
 
 EDWARD DOWNES CONNERY & CO. 
 
 New York, march 27 
 
 THE SOUTHERN CITIZEN, 
 
 IS published weeklv at Knoxville, Tennessee, by JOHN 
 MITCHELL & \VM. G. SWAN, at Si;2 per annum, or 
 $1 for si.\ months, payable invariably in advance. 
 
 Mr. Mitchell having commeneed in the 28th number ot 
 the papei-, a series of Letters addressed to the Hon. Alex- 
 ander H. Stephens of Georgia, which when completed will 
 furnish an entire history of 
 
 THE IRISH TROUBLES OF 1846, 
 
 With their Causes and Consequences, 
 
 The Southern Citizen will be the more interesting to both 
 American and Irish readers. Besides these contributions 
 from Mr. Mitchel, the Southern Citizen will continue to 
 have its usual quantity of original matter upon political 
 and literary subjects prepared by him. The circulation, 
 though large and constantly increasing, the proprietors 
 have thought will be much more extended by an announce- 
 ment in this form. 
 
 Communications with remittances may be addresedto 
 Mitchel & Swan, Knoxville, Tennessee, or to any of the 
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 S G Courteuay & Co, Charleston, S C; Thomas B O'Con- 
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 Gentry, Qichmond,Va; Alexander Adamson, Washington 
 city; Tallinage & Tunnel', Cincinnati, 0; PM Haverty, 110 
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 San Francisco. 
 
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 MANUPAOTURERS OP 
 
 SURGICAL AND DENTAL INSTRUMENTS, 
 CUTLERY, 
 
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 No. 3 HARVARD PLACE, (opposite the Old South,) 
 
 BOSTON, JIaSS. 
 llP^Cutlery and Instruments of all kinds Repaired, 
 ly augSS 
 
 DO'ROUKKE. respectfully informs his Irieuds and the 
 • public, that he keeps constiintiv on huud COFVINS 
 of all sizes andkind.s,at hi.-- Cotlin Mannlactory, No. Mi 
 Federal, bo) ween lleach and Kneeland Street.s, Boston, 
 hicli he will .s^l! as reasouable as can be bought at any oth- 
 
 ■pUic 
 
 I Ihi 
 
 is. 1'..— Orders punctually attended to, day or night. 
 Residence, No. 28 South street, Boston. 
 O^'Grave-Clothes furnished to order at fibort uotice. 
 febl3 
 
 PASSENGER CERTIFICATES.[ 
 
 TO OLD COUNTRYMEN. Owkn Mo Namara has 
 Passage Certilicates and Drafts always on hand and 
 for sale. Ah he does business for that mo^t respectable 
 houj^e. ( Wiiliams & Ouion) in New York. Old Countrymen 
 desiriucto send for their friends, or remit mouey, would 
 ■ ' • "■■■n tn pive hira a call atNb. 4Gokuam St.. opposite 
 baiumer St., Lowell, Mass i\^2:: 
 
 LAWRENCE BUIOADE UAMj. J. Desmond, Lead- 
 er. Are prepared to furnish Music for Military and 
 Civic Parades, Tic-Nics, Festivals, &c. Also, a Quadrille 
 Band furnished, if desired. Address J. Desmond, care of 
 Ro7. J. O'Doimeli, Lawreuoe, Mass. 
 
 SUBSCRIBE! SUBSCRIBE! SUBSCRIBE! 
 THE IRISH MISCELLANY 
 
 INDUOT£MK^T9 TO NEW SUBSOHIBERS. 
 
 OUR NEW VOLUME. 
 
 Having favorably commenced the second volume of our 
 publication, we seize the occasion (or the purpose of ten- 
 dering thanks to those of our friends who have so generous- 
 ly contributed to our support. To start, and successfully 
 carry on an ordinary newspaper, so that it will, in a rea- 
 sonable. space of time, become remunerative to its proprie- 
 tors, isa tai-k not cui-ily accomplished, and which consum- 
 mation does not generally happen in one case out ol a hun- 
 dred. Our cuterprise, being of a nature entirety different 
 from that of any other Irish paper heretofore established 
 in this country— requiring a much greater expenditure of 
 capital aud artistic talent— cau'^ed us serious misgivings, 
 and a constant fear tliaf it would not meet the desires and 
 expectations of our patrons. How far oureflbrts have been 
 successful, is for them to decide; but we trust that it will 
 not be considered egotistical on our part when we assert 
 that the Miscellany has far exceeded the most sanguine ex- 
 pectations of partial friends, aud that even those who have 
 been enemies from the start have made suitable acknowl- 
 edgment of its merit. 
 
 Since we have had the control of the Miscellany our way 
 has not been— 
 
 'The primrose path of dalliance ' 
 
 We have been beset "by obstacles innumerable ; but having 
 a strong confidence in our ultimate success, we were deter- 
 mined to surmount all barriers, and though we have not, 
 as yet, brought the paper to that pitch of perfection which 
 is our desire, we trust soon to make it as acceptable as is 
 possible to our readers. 
 
 In beginning a new volume, we introduce various inno- 
 vations, tending to the improvement of the paper, in 
 every way that is po.ssible. We shall give each week, an 
 epitome of Irish news — not the hdckuied local quotations 
 which interest only the few, but extracts from the leading 
 journals, which will be gratifying to the many. In this 
 respect, we will not be following in the steps of any of our 
 contemporaries, but, on the contrary, will be striking out 
 a path eminently our own. It will also be our aim to give 
 tlie best class of wood engravings which can be procured, 
 portraying national subjects, and, as our outlay in this re- 
 spect will be infinitely larger than that of any Irish journal 
 published in this country, we look for a commensurate re- 
 turn. In short, it is our intention to make the paper meet 
 the requirements of all classes of readers. 
 
 As an inducement, therefore, to new subscribers, we offer 
 to each person who will pay one years' subscription in ad- 
 vance, commencing with the first number of the first 
 volume, (not the second, as inadvertantly stated in previous 
 numbers.) directly to us or through any of our authorized 
 local or travelling agents, a copy of our first Gift Picture, 
 representing Sarsfield's Surprise of the Seige Train of the 
 Prince of Orange. When completed, each volume of the 
 Miscellany will form a book of four hundred and six- 
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 entire year's subscription. The same inducements are offer- 
 ad to clubs, as to single subscribers. 
 
 CLUBS! CLUBS!! CLUBS!!! 
 
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 the land of their birth, do us the favor of getting up Clubs. 
 Our terms will be — 
 To a club of six persons sent to one address, S10,00 
 
 To a club of twelve, 19.00 
 
 The whole of the money must invariably he sent at oue 
 remittance, and in advance. 
 
 In addition to this great reduction of price, each member 
 of a Club wilJbe entitled to copies of all our splendid Gift 
 Pictures. Let our friends exert themselves, and by their 
 patronage make the Miscellany the foremo&t Irish journa 
 on this contiuent. 
 
 TRAVELLING AGENTS WANTED. 
 
 We have Lleterniined to appoint a number of Travelling 
 Agents, to travel in the various States of the Union and 
 canvass for subscribers for this paper We do this at the 
 earnest request of many warm friends, who think we do 
 not take the requisite steps to make the paper known as ex- 
 tensively as it ought to be. 
 
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 can be well recommended, are requested to apply at our 
 cKfice forthwith. None but faithful, reliable men need ap 
 ply. To such a liberal commission will ho allowed. Apply 
 at ourPublicalion Ollice, 4 Water street, Boston. 
 
 Back Numhers of the Miscellany, from the commence 
 entof the paper, maybe procured through any of our 
 gular agents, or by sending direct to the office of publi 
 
 cation. No. 4 Water street, Boston. Will our h-ieuds 
 
 want bear this fact in miud? 
 
160 
 
 IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 (From the U<wton Lcdgor.) 
 
 BasTON, Oct. S 
 Mr. Editor: — I noticed in your evonin); ediiion of 
 Monday an article beaded 'Fa'iuen Coniin^; to Bos- 
 Ion,' in wliiili yoi stale that the llibernia Ilose Co. of 
 I'hiladelphia intended to visit Boston next month. 
 Allow me to correct the mistake. The company which 
 are making arrangements to visit our city is the Hi- 
 bornia i'irv Engine Co , No. 1, of Philudolphiu, and 
 not the llibernia Hose, as reported. The latter com- 
 pany does not belong to the Philadelphia department, 
 and has not for years. The company which contem- 
 plates visiting onrcity is the oldest orgiinized company 
 in the Unite<l States, their organitaiion dating as far 
 as 1752, and during the Hevoluiion the llibernia Fire 
 Engine Co. No 1 contributed towards carrying on the 
 war with Great Britain something like £70,000 (not 
 dollars) in nioucy, and upon its roll you will lind the 
 name of Kobert Morris, one of the signers of the Dec- 
 laration of American Independence, and upon the roll 
 of today yon will tind such prominent men as Col 
 James Page, President of the company; Hon. Culeb 
 S. Wright, John Thornley, Esq., &c. 1 hope th:it the 
 6rcnicn and citi.tens of Boston will give the old lliber- 
 nia a cordial reception. G. M. B. 
 
 G. M. B., wc Hatter ourselves, is no bigot, or he 
 would be better po^ted in those matters. He must 
 know there are neither firemen nor militiamen bear- 
 ing the Hibernian name in Boston, and it matters not 
 if all the signers of tbut 'culef>rated Declaration' were 
 nt their head, there would he one thing still lacking to 
 ensure them a warm reception — that, we opine, would 
 alter the case; let that company but substitute the 
 word 'Saxon' for 'llibernia,' then it mutters not if no 
 Arnold, a Burr, or a IIjII, be amongst its members, 
 they will be warmly received in Boston. Nor do we 
 ■wish i; otherwise, till Massacliuseits 'marches to the 
 music of the union.' 
 
 Ch-vhixstowx, Oct. 9. 
 Editors Irish Miscellany : — 
 
 I pursued with gratification the correspondence 
 published in your paper of this date, in regard to 
 aliens in the army of 'he United States. I think it 
 an imperitive duty of the government to see that the 
 recruit declare his intention to become a citizen 
 M'hcn entering our service. In this connection, I 
 ■would now inform you that Col. Dulany, of the 
 marines, now commanding at the Charlestown 
 Is'avy Yard, has taken a similar view of the matter, 
 and a large number of the men under his command 
 have already taken the necessary steps to become 
 citizens. 
 
 The sergent may remember that Col. Dulany, 
 with the marines, travelled the same road, and at 
 the same time, to the city of Mexico, as he did. 
 
 Yours, David Aumstrono. 
 
 We do ■well remember those brave marines, and had 
 some warm friends amongst them. They were con- 
 sidered as fine a body of infantry as ever stormed a 
 battery. They ■were especially noticed for perfec- 
 tion in drill. They excelled in all their social ar- 
 rangements, their commissarj' department being a 
 pattern for the whole army. The men were cared 
 for throughout the whole campaign almost as well 
 as if they had been in quarters or on board ship. 
 They, too, paid their contingent to the list of brave 
 fellows who died upon the field in bearing aloft 
 their country's flag. Col. Twiggs falling at Che- 
 pultepec while leading the stormers, as did also his 
 Bon at Puenta Naturcale. Success to the marines. 
 
 T. O'X. 
 
 Mr. J.\>ies Suu.n-AX, our travelling agent, will 
 visit our friends in Norwich, New London, Meri- 
 den, AVallinsford, etc. Wc trust all those waited 
 upon will assist him in making the Irish Miscellany 
 widely known among their friends and acquaint- 
 ances. 
 
 AMUSEMENTS. 
 
 FiiiiiAV, Oct. 8, 1858. 
 
 Tltc past week has been one of considerable activ- 
 ity among the managers of theatres. At the ■ Bos- 
 ton," Strakosch Operatic Company have produced 
 the most popular of the Italian operas, and every 
 evening met with the most decided success, the 
 houses being at each representation all that could 
 be desired either by the manager or his friends. It 
 gives us, indeed, unalloyed pleasure to witness 
 again the success of this, the finest theatre in the 
 country. The engagement of this company closed 
 Saturday afternoon at this hou.se. They give on 
 Sunday evening, at the Music IIall,Rossini'sStobat 
 Mater, in connection with the Handel and Haydn 
 Society. Mr. Burton will make his first appearance 
 at the • Boston ' on Monday evening. 
 
 At the ' Museum," Miss Eliza Logan will continue 
 another fortnight. She will be succeeded by Mr. J. 
 \V. Wallack, Jr. 
 
 At the ' National,' Mr. & Mrs. Chanfrau have met 
 with great success. Their engagement closes this 
 week. They probaly will be re-engaged. 
 
 Miss Davenport appeared at the ' Howard," Mon- 
 day and Tuesday evenings, and, on Wednesday the 
 manager announced that the theatre would be closed, 
 and reopen on Monday ne.xt. Miss Laura Honey an- 
 nounces her retirement from Mr. Barrow's company. 
 
 We have nothing to notice in connection with 
 Ord way's, mtjre than the continued e.xcellcnueof the 
 performances and the success of the establishment. 
 
 .UJVBBTISBMBNTS. 
 
 STEAM TO ALL PARTS OF GREAT BRITAIN 
 
 —VIA THE— 
 
 ATLANTIC KOYAL MAIL STEA-MSHIP CD'S 
 
 NEW YORK AND GALWAY LINE. 
 
 Tills is tlie sliortesl route between Europe and Amer- 
 ica. The line is coinijosed of puwerlul and lust t>ail- 
 iiiff steamsliips, ubiy olliceied, and luruishcd witli every- 
 tliTuj; requisite to render the voyage sate and aj^reeable. 
 Ihe departures from >i'ew York for (Juhvay will be as fol- 
 lows, until further notice, viz: — 
 
 I'KINCE ALBEKT, T. J. Waters Monday, Oct. 18. 
 
 INDIAN KMl'IUE, E. Courtenay yuturdav, (.)ct. 23. 
 
 rAClFlC, William C. Thompson Friday, Nov. 5. 
 
 Fersons visiting Ireland reach their destination in three- 
 fourths the time taken bv any other route, and all have an 
 opportunity of visiting places and t-cenery of unrivalled in- 
 terest in Ireland. 
 
 I'rice of passage, including free tickets by the usual rail- 
 road routes from Galwaytoany ot the principal cities oi 
 Great Britain, at the following reduced rates:— First class 
 SaO, second clas.s S50, thiid class S30. 
 
 Tlio^ie wishing to bring their friends to this country can 
 purchase tickets for their passage in third class from Gal- 
 way at §30. or from other cities in Great Britain, accessible 
 by railroad, $35. A liberal cabin' table will be provided, 
 and cooked provisions for third class passengers to and 
 from Galway. 
 
 For freight and passage and further particulars apply to 
 the American Express Company, Gl Hudson street, Ne^v 
 York, or to 
 
 2;azro BROTHEKS & SWEENEY, 
 6 Chatham Uow, Bo^ton. 
 
 CATHOLIC BOOK STORE. 
 
 WILLIAM HICKEY, Catholic Bookseller, and Agent 
 for tlie Extensive I'ablishing House of D. & J. 
 Saduer & Co., of New York. 
 The latest and most varied stock of Religious Prints, 
 MISSALS, PRAYER BOOKS. CROSSES, 
 and all the Current Literature, constantly on hand. 
 
 No. 128 Federal (cohner of Williams) stiieet, 
 BOSTON, MASS. 
 
 TEN KEADY WAYS TO .MAKE MONEY, being fen 
 original receipts for the niauufacturc of useful arti- 
 cles, which command a qaick sale, and insure a full pocket. 
 Formerly sold for So; but now sunt to any person (or one 
 gold dollar. Addre-s T L. liEILLY, I'eace Bale, U. I. 
 
 al8 
 
 m 
 
 A WILLIAMS & CO., Wholesale Agents, for the Irish 
 . IDscELLANT. Tlic Tiodc supplied with Books, Pe- 
 riodicals and Newspapers. Special Agents for Harper & 
 Brothers rublicatious. No. 100 Washington street. 
 fcb20 BoBTOs. 
 
 Tnt:AXOR & GLINEY, ATTORNEYS AND COUN.SEL- 
 LtJltS AT LAW, 16 Massachusetts Block, Court square, 
 Boston. 
 
 >rticular attention paid to Conveyancing, and be 
 
 examlualion of titles of Kcal litate. 
 
 fabi 
 
 OLD COLONY HOUSE. 
 
 PATRICK IKJLLY brgs leave to announce to his pat- 
 rons and the public K-enerHllv that he lias constantly 
 ou liiind ut Ins old and uell-lmown sliiiid, 
 
 THE OLD COLONY HOUSE, 
 
 CORNER OF KMEELAKD Ai\D SOUTH STREETS, 
 
 A CUOICB AB80UTMEKT OF 
 
 BRANDIES, WINES, SCOTCH & IRISH 
 
 WHISKEY, CIGARS, &c. &c., 
 
 allot the very tlrst quality, which can be obtained too at 
 
 LOWER RATES 
 
 than elsewhere in the market ; lu proof of which he InvitM 
 purchasers to give him a call. aug2d 
 
 SOUTH END CATHOLIC BOOK STORE, 
 
 And Depot for the .Sale of the 
 METROPOLiTAS ASD YOUTHS' AUGAZWES. 
 
 WILLIAM KEATING, Agent, 
 
 8 1-2 Harrison Avenue, or at his New Periodical Store, 176 
 
 Uarrisou Avenue, Boston, Mas-*., 
 
 Where a great variety of the most popular Books and 
 
 I'apers cam he had at the very lowest prices, 
 
 WILL supply Clubs, Agents. CauvaKsen*, &c.. ou the 
 same terms as the I'ubliKliers. The lollowing are 
 the terms— 3 copies will be sent by mail, to one address, lor 
 one year So; 6 copies for SIO; 13 copies forS2U; 20 copies 
 for SS3U. 
 
 0:7' On the receipt of 5?3. three copies of the Catholic 
 Youth's Magazine and one copy of the Metropolitan will 
 be mailed regularly lor one >ear. 
 
 or?" A few seti? of the Magazines from the beginning, can 
 be had of the Agent. Also, all new books furnished as 
 600U as published. ap24 8mos 
 
 LAWRENCE BRIGADK BAND. J. Desmond, Lead- 
 er. Are prepared to furnish Mu»ic for Military and 
 Civic I'aradeji. I'lc-Nics, FestivalB. &fc. Albo, a (Quadrille 
 Band funii>hcd. if der^ircd. Address J. Denmond, care of 
 Bay. J. O'DoDDell, Lawrence, MaM. 
 
 P . M O II R I S . 
 
 APOTHECARY. 
 
 Corner of Federal and Purchase streets, foot of Summer 
 
 street, Bobto>'. 
 
 STRICT porsonnl attention paid to compounding Phyri 
 cian's Prescriptions. A choice selection of Fatnily 
 Medicines constantly on hand. A well selected t^tock ot 
 genuine imported Pt*rfiimery and Fancy Ooodn. Soda 
 VVaterwitli clioicc Syrups. A large asi^ortraent of genuine 
 Havana Segars constoutly on hand. ap5 
 
 OUR AGENTS. 
 
 Bo.'itou —John J. Dver. & Co.. 35 School street; A. Wil- 
 liams & Co.. 100 Washington street : Fedheren & Co., 9 and 
 13 Court street; \Vm. Hickey. 128 Federal street: Howe & 
 Co., 11 Court Avenue; and William Keating, 17G Harrison 
 Avenue, 
 
 Bangor, Me. —Edward J. Kelleher. 
 
 New York— Dexter & Brother, U & 16 Ann street. 
 
 Troy, N. Y. — Francis Koark. 
 
 Philadelphia.— A. Winch. 320 Chestnut street. 
 
 Ohio.- M. H. Bird. Cincinnati, and Hawks & Brothers, 
 Cleaveland. 
 
 Detroit. Mich.— J. A. Roys. 
 
 St. Louis. Missouri.— Thomas Duggan. 
 
 New Orleans, Ln.— James M. Shine. 
 
 The Miscellany may al.-^o be had. retail, of new^tpaper and 
 periodical dealers throughout the country. 
 
 travklun'g agents. 
 John Warren, 60 Andover street, for Boston and vicinity, 
 James Doyle, of Millbnry. Mass. M. Kindlay McKa^, 
 of Amesburv. Mass. Edward H. Kcenan, of North Ferris- 
 burij, Vt. Michae' F. Hackett. of I'rovidence, U. I. James 
 SulPivan, of New Haven, Ct. Robert Crowe, of Brooklyn, 
 N. Y. James Cullen, of West Troy, N. Y. Daniel A. Bros- 
 nan, of Washingtoji. D. C. 
 
 RATES OF ADVERTISING. 
 
 POR EAOH ByUAnKOF TWELVE LINES. 
 
 First insertion. . . . Sl.OO I Three months, . . S5.00 
 
 Each eubscfiuent do . 50 ) One vcar, .... 16.00 
 
 Six lines or less constitute half a square. 
 
 Larger advertisements charged iu proportion. 
 
 Business Notices, solid ... 10 cents per line. 
 
 " " leaded . . . 15 •' *' " 
 
 BUSINESS CARDS of bix lines or less. 
 
 For On Month, . . . Sl.OO I SLx Months, . . . S6.(K) 
 
 Three Months, . . . $3.00 ) One Year, .... »8.00 
 
 •.•All advertisements payable in adrance. 
 
 THE 
 
 IRISH M I SC E LLA N Y 
 
 Is published weeklv. and devoted to the interests and vin 
 dication of the Ir'i.-'h people throughout the world. 
 
 The Miireltany republishes each week one whole number 
 of the old 'Dublin Pemty Journal,' with original and 
 selected essays, reviews, poetrj-, &c., by Irishmen, of first- 
 rate ability. It also contains heautintl Pictorial Illustra- 
 tions of Irish scenery and other objects of interest, among 
 which may be enumerated cn^^raviiigs ot the ancient cas- 
 tles and round towers, the rums of the old churches, the 
 plundered monasteries, convents and abbeys of Ireland. 
 
 It will also contain correct Pictorial representations ol 
 works of art executed by Iri>hmei: ot the present day, as 
 well as in former timesj in this country and throughout 
 Europe. 
 
 Tkrms. — S2,00 per year, invariably in advance. 
 WALSH & CO. PROPRIETORS, 
 
 Ko. 4 Water Stbebt, Boston. Mass. * 
 
VOLUME 2— NUMBER 37.] 
 
 BOSTON, SATURDAY, OCTOBER 23, 1858. 
 
 [PRICE FOUK CENTS. 
 
 SCENERY AND TRADITIONS OF IRELAND.; 
 
 Ireland is distinguished for it« niunber of ruined ! 
 castles, tbose stern abodes in which, in times of yore, 
 feudal power, in the prime and vigor of its strength, : 
 lorded it over the vast districts whit h their possessors. 
 had acquired by the sword. And in no county do 
 these picturesque remains more abound than in Wex- 
 ford, where the Anglo-Norman invaders first acquired I 
 a permanent footing in the island. The one we have 
 selected for our pictorial sketch this week is a view of 
 all that is left of the once stately abode of the powerful 
 Fitzstephen, who, in the month of May, 1169, landi.d 
 on the Wexford coast with a small army, consisting, it I 
 
 had with them as prisoners, to go to the walls of the 
 castle and confirm the truth of the statement, upon 
 which Fitzstephen and all his followers surrendered as 
 prisoners of war. Of'this tower, Mr. Shiel, in a speech 
 delivered by him at Wexford, thus cloquentlv exclaim- 
 ed : — ' Situate at the gorge of the mountain, and com- 
 manding the passage of the stream whose waters are 
 darkened by its shadow, it is invested with many mel- 
 ancholj' associations, and imparts to the solemnity of 
 the scene what I may call a political picturesque. 
 Years have flowed by, like the waters which it over- 
 shadows, and yet it is not changed. It stands as if 
 it were the work of yesterday ; as it was the first pro- 
 
 six centuries have effected in the condition of the 
 country, and cannot be considered any more an eye- 
 sore to the people of Ireland than those of England. 
 To the Wexford people it must ever be an object of 
 interest,ab the bulk of the inhabitants are descendants of 
 the Normans, Saxons and Welsh who first placed their 
 hostile feet on the shores of Ireland, and made the 
 county of Wexford their favorite ' location,' as a 
 Yankee backwoodsman would term it. However, if 
 such reminiscences as the following are rather numer- 
 ous, it would be as well not to be too curious in our 
 inquiries about this old building, interesting as it is, 
 both from association and historical recollection :— 
 
 is related, of no more than five hundred men, includ- 
 ing knights, esi|uire8, and archers. The ancient tower 
 is situate on the pinnacle of a rock, and is consider, d 
 one of the most picturesque objects in the kinpilom. In 
 this castle Fitzstephen was besieged by the men of 
 Wixford; but he repulsed all their attacks for the 
 time, and their object had ultimately to be accomplish- 
 ed by artifice Huving demanded a parley, the Irish 
 informed the English kniglits that Strongbow and all 
 the English adventurers had been destroy eiS, and that 
 an immense force was on the march to Carrick. The 
 intelligence was not much credited by Fitzstephen, 
 and 80 the Irish compelled three bishops, whom they 
 
 FITZSTEPHEN'S TOWER, NEAR CARRICK. 
 
 duct of English domination, so it is its type.' He 
 afterwards declared ihat it ought to have been pulled 
 down as a revolting object of Ireland's first degrada- 
 tion. We question whether Mr. Shiel, in his malurcr 
 years, would be so severe. No doubt, when used as a 
 fortress, the transactions that took place within its 
 walls partook of the character of the limes. But now 
 ' the head and front of iis oflcnding ' has disappeared, 
 and We hope it will long endure, as a relic of th'it past 
 to which the imagination so fundly loves to travel. It 
 belongs to the days of chivalry, of heroic adventure, 
 and of plunder on a scale of dazzling largeness ; so it 
 in a sori of landmark, pointing out the clianges which 
 
 A chieftnin named Wat Reoch, or Walter the Rough, 
 had suffered by the depredations of a neighboring Irish 
 leader called O'Morroe. Wat gave him warning that 
 the next foray should be the last, and he surprised and 
 captured the freebooter in the act of recrossing the 
 river with his prey. The moon was high, the tide low, 
 and a-i Wat observed the long bank of shingle left bare 
 by the receding waters, a horrid idea of retribution en- 
 tered his mind. It was eff.'ctcd on the spot, and at the 
 instant. A strong stake was procured, and fixed up- 
 right on the margin of the stream at low water mark. 
 To this the captive was bound, one arm pinioned be- 
 hind him, the other left free, and provided with a leaf 
 
1(52 
 
 TIJISH MISCKLLANY. 
 
 of bread. In lliU siiimiion ho was left, Biid for scvornl 
 buitt'».sivc liili'8 Will Uiocli wiitclicd his livinp virlim 
 from ihe wimlows of his lower. At lengih ihc Hood 
 lido rumc. One hiitlon after another in his jerkin dis- 
 appeared beueaih the water, whieli at Inst reaehed his 
 chin, nudboon ilosed over hin head forever. 
 
 An nei-iiunt ol u bailding so intimately councetcd 
 with Iri.-h history as ihit venerable tower of FilZ'iteplien, 
 wouhl be ineoniplcte wiiliuiit refennceto that niemor- 
 alile event, iho An(;K>-J{orman invasion. Wexford 
 lies direetly oppoMie to Cardiganshire, in Wales ; and 
 from the earliest period a friendly intercourse had sub- 
 sisted between the natives of boih pliues. It was at 
 lengih rudely broken by the stei n alarms of war. The 
 AnploNormnns had frequenilv vi.sifed the eounty, and 
 longed to obtiiin possession ofils fertile londs. A prc- 
 uxt soon offend iisilf, oeeusloned by a domesiie feud, 
 iu which a lady figured in a disgraceful tharacter. 
 Derniot >f«cMuri>5li, Kirgof I,ein.-tcr, having seduced 
 tlic wife t)'Roirkc, Princo of BrelVni, and tnken her to 
 his casile of Ferns, the bereaved husband, fail of aficc- 
 tion and wounded pride, addre>std himself to Kodcrie 
 O'lonnor, King of Connaugbi, complaining of the 
 wrong and scorn done him by tho King of Leinstcr, 
 and imploring his aid to revenge so great an outrage. 
 O'Connor, moved with honor and compassion, prom- 
 ised him his succor. Out of this guilty amour arose 
 the invasion of Ireland, and its subjugation by the 
 English ; and from this ' causa tcterrima lielli ' the 
 frail beauty has been called the ' Irish Helen.' The 
 crime of the seducer excited a general spirit of indig- 
 nation, and when Koderic marched an army into his 
 dominions, Derniot, finding himself deserted by his 
 subjects, tied to England, and la_id his case before 
 Henry II., at the same time swearing allegiance to 
 that monarch. Henry issued an edict, stating that 
 whosoever should ' aid and helpo his trustie subject, 
 Dermot, King of Leinstcr, for the recovcrie of his 
 land, might be assured of the favour and license of 
 his sovereign in that behalfc." The deposed mon- 
 arch's liberal offer of money .ind land, backed by 
 the recommendation of Henry II., led to proposals 
 on the part of Richard Earl of Chepstow, surnamcd 
 Strongbow. 
 
 The carl agreed to enter Ireland at the head of a 
 Buflieii.nt force, and restore Dermot to his throne, 
 and to receive, in payment for his services, the hand 
 of Dermot's only daughter, Eva, and a settlement 
 of Dermot's whole inheritance and property in Ire- 
 land upon him and his successor — a contract which 
 was afterwards fulfilled. Strongbow, however, be- 
 ing somewhat tardy in his preparations, was antici- 
 pated, as we have mentioned, by Robert Fitzstcphen, 
 who had agreed to assist Derniot on condition of 
 receiving a grant of the town of Wexford, with two 
 eantreds of land adjoining. After being joined by 
 Mauriee de Pendcrgast, another adventurer, with 
 i.n additional fore* often knights and two hundred 
 archers, the invaders fortified themselves on a bold 
 [.riijiction facing the Welsh coast until they obtain- 
 ed guides and assistance from Dermot, who remain- 
 ed secreted in his castle of Ferns, waiting the arrival 
 of the strangers. In a short time he was enabled to 
 send them his natural son, Donald, with five hun- 
 dred horse. Thus reinforced, they made their way 
 to Wexford, which, after a brief defence, surren- 
 dered, and so, at a comparatively little cost, the os- 
 tensible ohjtct of the invasion was attained, for 
 Dermot was restored to his throne, and the AVelsh 
 knights received the promised payment. In about 
 two years afterwads, Strongbow, in pursuance of 
 his bargain with Mac ilorogh, landed in the bay of 
 Waterford, acco-ipanied by two hundred gentlemen 
 of service and a thousand knights. He was followed 
 by Ucnry II. with a large army, and from that time 
 the Anglo-Xonnan warriors gradually obtained the 
 same footing in Ireland as they had done in Eiig- 
 la id. A county so colonised retains to this day 
 features quite distinit from those common to the 
 r.'st of Ireland. 
 
 THE STORY OF CONN-EDA; 
 
 OR THE COLOEN APPLES OF LOCi^ ERNE. 
 ITmusUtiil rromlhelrUhby Xlcliolnsd Keuiuey.EMi.J 
 It was long before the time the western districts of 
 ' Innis Fodlila*' had any settled name, but were in- 
 discriminately called after the person who took pos- 
 ses-ion of them, and whose name they retained only 
 us long as his sway lasted, a powerful king reigned 
 over this part of the sacred island. He was a puis- 
 sant warrior, and no individual was found able to 
 compete with him either on hind or sea, or question 
 his right to the conquest he made by strength of his 
 manly right hand, the point of his glittering javelin, 
 and keen edge of his blue sword. Thcgreat king of 
 the west held uncontrolled sway from the island of 
 Rathlin to the mouth of the Shannon by sea, and 
 iar as the glittering Shannon wound its sinuous 
 length by land. The ancient king of the west, 
 whose. name was Conn, was good as well as great, 
 aud passionately loved by his people. His queen 
 was a ' Breaton ' (British) princess, and was equally l 
 beloved and esteemed, because she was the very 
 counterpart of the king in every respect ; for what- 
 ever good qualification was found wanting in one, 
 the other was certain to indemnify the omission. It 
 was plainly manifest that heaven approved of the 
 career in life of the virtuous couple, for during 
 their reign the earth produced exuberant crops, the 
 trees fruit ninefold commensurate with their usual 
 bearing, the rivers, lakes, and surrounding sea teem- 
 ed with abundance of choice fishes, while herds and 
 flocks were unusually prolific, and kine and sheep 
 yielded luch abundance of rich milk, that they shed 
 it in torrents upon the pastures ; and furrows and 
 cavities were always filled with the pure lacteal pro- 
 duce of the dairy. All these were blessings heaped 
 by heaven upon the western districts of ' Innis 
 Fodhla,' over which the benignant and just Conn 
 swayed his sceptre, in approbation of the course of 
 government he had marked out for his own guid- 
 ance. It .s needless to state that the people who 
 owned the authority of this great and good sove- 
 reign were the happiest on the face of the wide ex- 
 panse of earth. It was during his reign, and that of 
 bis son and .successor, that reland acquired the 
 title of the 'happy isle of the west' among foreign 
 nations. Coim Mor, and his good Queen Eda, 
 reigned in great glory during many years ; they 
 were blessed with an only son, whom they named 
 Conn-eda, after both his parents, because the Druids 
 foretold, at his birth, that he would inherit the good 
 qualities of both. According as the young prince 
 grew in years, his amiable and benignant qualities 
 of mind, as well as his great strength of body and 
 manly bearing, became more manifest. lie was the 
 idol of his parents and the proud boast of his people; 
 he was beloved and respected to that degree that 
 neither prince, lord nor plebeian swore an oath by 
 the sun, moon, stars, or elements, except by the 
 head of Conn-eda. This career of glory, however, 
 was doomed to meet a powerful but temporary im- 
 pediment, for the good Oueen Eda took a sudden 
 and severe illness, of which she died in a' few days, 
 thus plunging her spouse, her son, and all her peo- 
 ple, into a depth of grief and sorrow from which it 
 was found difficult to relieve them. 
 
 The good king and his subjects mourned the loss 
 of Queen Eda for a year and a day ; and at the ex- 
 piration of that time. Conn Mor reluctantly yielded 
 to the advice of bis Druids and counsellors, and took 
 to wife the daughter of his Archdruid. The new 
 queen appeared to w alk in the footsteps of the good 
 Eda for several years, and gave great satisfaction to 
 her subjects. Hut, in course of time, having had 
 several children, and perceiving that Conn-eda was 
 the favorite son of the king, and the darling of the 
 people, she clearly foresaw that he would become 
 
 • ' Innis Fodhla,' Island of Fate, aa some think, au old 
 name ol Ireland. 
 
 succcsaor to the throne after the dcmigc of his father, 
 and that her son would certainly be excluded. 
 This excited the hatred and inllamed the jealousy of 
 the Druid's daughter against her stepson to such an 
 extent that iihc resolved, in her own mind, to leave 
 nothing in her power undone to procure his death, 
 or even exile from the kingdom. She began by cir- 
 culating evil reports of the prince ; hut, as he was 
 above suspiciim, the king only laughed at the weak- 
 ness of the queen ; and the great princes and chief- 
 tains, supported by the people in general, gave an 
 unqualified contradiction ; while the prince himself 
 bore all his trials with the utmost patience, and al- 
 ways repaid her bad and malicious acta towards him 
 with good and benevolent ones. The enmity of the 
 queen towards Conn-edu knew no bounds, when 
 she saw that the false reports she circulated could 
 not injure him, because he was a public man whose 
 oharacter was too well known and a])preciated to 
 sull'er the least injury from ibe poisoned sting of 
 calumny. As a last resource, to carry out lier 
 wicked projects, she determined to consult her 
 ' Cailleacheheuru ' (henwife), who was a reputed 
 enchantress. 
 
 Pursuant to her resolution, by the early dawn of 
 morning, she hied to the cabin of the ' Cailleach- 
 chearc,' and divulged to her the cause of her trou- 
 ble. 'I cannot render you any help,' said tho 
 Caillcach, ' until you name the duals ' (reward.) 
 
 'What duals do you require?' asked the queen 
 impatiently. 
 
 ' My duals,' replied the enchantress, ' is to fill the 
 cavity of my arm witKwool, and the hole I shall 
 bore with my distaif with red wheat.' 
 
 'Your duals is granted, and shall be immediately 
 given you,' said the queen. 
 
 The enchantress thereupon stood in the door of 
 her hut, and, bending her arm into a circle with her 
 side, directed the royal attendants to thrust the wool 
 into her house through her arm, and she never per- 
 mitted thcra to cease until all the available space 
 within was filled with wool. She then got on the 
 roof of her brother's house, and, having made a hole 
 through it with her distaff, caused red wheat to be 
 spilled through it, until the house was tilled up to 
 the roof, so that there was no room for another 
 grain within. 
 
 ' Xow,' said the queen, ' since you have received 
 your duals, tell me how I can accomplish my pur- 
 pose ■' 
 
 ' Take this chess-board and chess, and invite the 
 prince to play with you ; you shall win the first 
 game. Tho condition you shall make is, that who- 
 ever wins a game shall be at liberty to impose what- 
 ever ' geasa ' (conditions) the winner pleases upon 
 the loser. When you win, you must bind the 
 prince under the pi nalty either to go into ' ionar- 
 badth ' (exile), or procure for you, within the space 
 of a year and a day, the three golden apples that 
 grow in the garden, the ' each dubh ' (black steed), 
 and ' coilcan con na mbuadh ' (hound of supernat- 
 ural powers), called Samcr, which arc in the poses- 
 sion of the king of the Firbolg race, who resides in 
 Loch Ernet Those two things are so precious, and 
 so well guarded, that he never can obtain them by 
 his own power ; and, if he would rashly attempt to 
 seek them, he .should lose his life.' 
 
 The queen was greatly rejoiced at the advice, and 
 lost no time in inviting Conn-eda to play a game at 
 chess, under the conditions she had been instructed 
 to arrange by the enchantress. The queen won the 
 "ame, as the enchantress had foretold ; but so great 
 was her anxiety to have th.e prince completely in 
 her power that she challenged kim to play a second 
 game, which Conn-eda, to her astonishnunt, and no 
 less mortification, easily won. 
 
 ' Now," said the prince, ' since you have won the 
 
 tllioFirbolgs believed their elysium to be underwater; 
 and the Irish slill faucj that many of our laktS are peo- 
 pled. 
 
IRISH jnSCELLA^NY. 
 
 163 
 
 first game, it is your duty to impose your 'geis' 
 first.' 
 
 • My ijt'is,' said the quooii, • wliioh I impiisi' uiior. 
 you, is to procure me the 'each dubli' (black 
 steed), and ' cuilenn eon na mbuadh ' (hound of 
 supernatural jjowers), which are in the keeping of 
 the Firbolgs, in Loch Erne, within the space of a 
 year and a day ; or, in case you fail, to go into 
 'ionarhadh' (exile), and never return, except you 
 surrender yourself to lo-e your head and ' conihead 
 beatha ' (preservation of life.) 
 
 • Well, then,' said the prince, ' the 'geis' which I 
 bind you by is, to sit upon the pinnacle of yonder 
 tower until my return, and to take neither food nor 
 nourishment of any description, except what red 
 wheat you can pick up with the point of a bodkin ; 
 but, if I do not return, you are at perfect liberty to 
 come down at the expiration, of the 'year and a 
 day.' 
 
 In consequence of tl"? severe 'geis' imposed unex- 
 pectedly upon him, Coim-eda was very much trou- 
 bled in mind ; and, well knowing he had a long 
 journey to make before he would reach his destina- 
 tion, immediately prepared to set out on his way, 
 not, however, before he had the satisfaction of M'it- 
 nessing the ascent of the queen to the place where 
 she was obliged to remain exposed to the scorching 
 sun of summer, and the blasting storms of winter, 
 for the space of one year and a day, at least. Conn- 
 eda being ignorant of what steps he should take to 
 procure the ' each dubh ' and ' cuilean con na 
 mbuadh,' though he was well aware that human 
 energy would prove [unavailing, thought proper to 
 consult the Great Druid, Fionn Badhna, of Sliabh 
 I3adhna, who was a friend of his, before he ventured 
 to proceed to Loch Erne. When he arrived at the 
 ' bruighean ' of the Druid he was received with 
 cordial friendship, and the 'failte,'* as usual, was 
 poured out before him ; and, when he was seated, 
 warm water was fett'hed, and his feet bathed, so 
 that the fatigue he felt after his journey was greatly 
 relieved. The Druid, after he had partaken of re- 
 freshments, consisting of the newest of food and the 
 oldest of liquors, asked him the reason- for paying 
 the visit, and more particularly the cause of his sor- 
 row ; for the prince appeared exceedingly depressed 
 in spirit. 
 
 Conn-eda told his friend the whole history of the 
 transaction with his step-mother, from the beginning 
 to the end ; which, when the]Druid heard it, caused 
 him to nod his head significantly, but he made no 
 answer. 
 
 ' Can you not assist me ?' asked the prince, with 
 downcast coui.tenance, having observed the motions 
 of the Druid. 
 
 'I cannot, indeed, assist you at present,' replied 
 the Druid, ' but I will retire to my ' grianan' at 
 sun-rising on the morrow, and learn by virtue of 
 my druidism what can be done to assist you.' The 
 Druid, accordingly, as the sun rose on the following 
 mortiing, retired to bis * grianan,' and consulted the 
 god he adored through the power of his 'druid- 
 heacht.' When he returned, he called Conn-eda 
 aside on the plain, and addressed him thus: — 'My 
 dear son, I find you have been bound under a se- 
 vere — an almost impossible — ' geis,' intended for 
 your destruction ; no person on earth could have 
 advised the queen to impose it, except the CaiUeach 
 of Loch Corrib, who is the greatest Druidess now 
 in Ireland, and sister to the Firbolg king of Loch 
 Erne. It is not, 1 am sorry to have to inform you, 
 in my power, nor in that of the deity I adore, to 
 interfere in your behalf ; but go directly to Sliabh 
 Mis, and consult 'Ean chin-duine ' (the bird with 
 a human head), and if there be any possibility of 
 relieviivg you, that bird shall do it ; for there is not 
 a bird in the western world so celebrated as that 
 bird, because it knows all things that are past, all 
 
 • ' Failte means welcome, but It means much more in ori- 
 ginal 3ISS. 
 
 things that are present and e.xist, and all things 
 that shall hereafter tixist. It is difficult to find ac- 
 cess to his place of concealment, and more difficult 
 still to obtain an answer from him ; but I will en- 
 deavor to regulate the matter for you, and that is all 
 I can do for you at present.' 
 
 The Archdruid then instructed him thus; 'Take,' 
 said he, ' yonder little shaggy steed, and mount him 
 immediately ; for in those days the bird will make 
 himself visible, and the little shaggy steed will eon- 
 duct you to his place of abode. But lest the bird 
 should refuse to reply to your queries, take this 
 precious stone ('leag longmhar,') and present it to 
 him ; and then little danger and doubt exists but he 
 will give you a ready answer.' 
 
 The prince returned heartfelt thanks to the Druid, 
 and, having saddled and mounted the little shaggy 
 horse without making much delay, received the 
 precious stone from the Druid, and, after having 
 taken his leave of him, set out on his journey. He 
 suffered the reins to fall loose upon the neck of the 
 horsQ, according as he had been instructed, so that 
 the animal took whatever rode he chose. 
 
 It would be tedious to relate the numerous ad- 
 ventures he had with the little shaggy horse, which 
 had the extrordinary gift of speech, and was a 
 • draoidheacht ' horse, during his journey. 
 
 The prince having reached the hiding-place of the 
 strange bird at the appointed time, and having pre- 
 sented him with the ' leag longmhar,' according to 
 Fionn Badhna's instructions, and proposed his ques- 
 tions relative to the manner he could best arrange 
 for the fulfilment of his ' geis,' the bird took up the 
 jewel from the stone on which it was placed, in his 
 mouth, and flew to an inacessible rock at some dis- 
 tance, and, when there perched, he thus addressed 
 the prince : — 
 
 ' Conn-eda, son of the king of Cruachan,' said he, 
 in a loud croaking liuman voice, ' remove the stone 
 just under your right foot, and take the ball of iron 
 and the ' coma ' (cup) you shall find under it ; then 
 mount your horse, cast the ball before you, and, 
 having so done, your horse will tell you all the 
 other things necessary to be done.' The bird, hav- 
 ing said this, immediately flew out of sight, 
 
 Conn-eda took great care to do everything ac- 
 cording to the instructions of the bird. He found 
 the iron ball and 'corna' in the place which had 
 been pointed out. He took them up, mounted his 
 horse, and cast the ball before him. The ball rolled 
 on a regular gait, while the little shaggy horse fol- 
 lowed on the way it led, until they reached the mar- 
 gin of Loch Erne. Here the ball rolled into the 
 water and became invisible. 
 
 'Alight now,' said the 'draoidheacht' pony, 
 ' and put your hand into mine ear ; take from 
 thence the small bottle of ' ice ' (all-heal) and the 
 little wicker basket which you will find there, and 
 remount with speed, for just now your great dan- 
 gers and difficulties commence.' 
 
 Conn-eda, ever faithful to the kind advice of his 
 ' draidheaeht' pony, did what he had been advised. 
 Having taken the basket and bottle of 'ice ' from 
 the animal's ear, remounted and proceeded on his 
 journey, while the water of the lake appeared only 
 like an atmosphere above his head. When he en- 
 tered the lake the ball again appeared, and rolled 
 along until it came to the margin, across which was 
 a causeway, garded by three frightful serpents; the 
 hissings of the monsters were heard at a great dis- 
 tance, while, on a nearer approach, their yawning 
 mouths and formidable fangs were quite sufiicient to 
 terrify the stoutest heart. 
 
 ' Now,' said the hor.se, ' open the basket, and east 
 a piece of the meat you will find in it into the mouth 
 of each serpent ; when you have done this, secure 
 yourself in your seat in the best manner you can, so 
 that we may make all due arrangements to pass 
 those * draoidiieacht peists.' Take the pieces of 
 meat you shall find in the basket, and, with a 
 
 straight hand and well-directed aim, east one into 
 the mouth of each ' pcist.' If you do so unerringly 
 we shall pass them safely, otherwise we are^lost.' 
 Conn-eda flung the pieces of meat into the jaws of 
 the serpents with unerring aim. ^ 
 
 ' Bear a benison and victory,' said the ' draoid- 
 heacht' steed, 'for you are a youth that will win 
 and prosper.' 
 
 On saying these words he sprang aloft, and cleared 
 in his leap the river and ford, guarded by the ser- 
 pents, seven measures beyond the margin. 
 
 ' Are you still mounted. Prince Conn-eda r' asked 
 the steed. 
 
 'It's only half my exertion to remain so,' replied 
 Conn-eda. 
 
 ' I find,' said the pony, ' that you are a young 
 prince that deserves to succeed — one danger is now 
 over, but two others still remain.' 
 
 They proceeded onwards after the ball until they 
 came in view of a great mountain flaming with fire. 
 ' Hold yourself in readiness for another daneerous 
 leap,' said the horse. 
 
 The trembling prince had no answer to make, but 
 seated himself as secure as the magnitude of the 
 danger before him would permit. The horse in the 
 next instant sprung from the earth, and flew like an 
 arrow over the burning mountain. 
 
 ' Are you still alive, Conn-eda, son of Connmorer' 
 inquired the faithful horse. 
 
 ' I am just alive, and no more, for I am greatly 
 scorched,' answered the prince. 
 
 ' Since you are yet alive, I teel assured that you 
 are a young man destined to meet supernatural suc- 
 cess and benisons,' said the druidic steed. ' Our 
 greatest dangers are over,' added he, ' and there is 
 hope that we shall be able to overcome the next and 
 last danger.' 
 
 After they proceeded a short distance, his faithful 
 steed, addressing Conn-eda, said, ' Alight now, and 
 apply a portion of the contents of the little bottle 
 of ' ice ' to your wounds.' 
 
 The prince immediately followed the advice of his 
 monitor; and, as soon as he rubbed the 'ice' (all- 
 heal) to his wounds, he became as whole and fresh 
 as ever he had been before. After having done this, 
 Conn-eda remounted, and, following the track of 
 the ball, soon came in sight of a great city sur- 
 rounded by high walls. The only gate which was 
 visible was not defended by armed men, but by two 
 great towers, which emitted flames that could be 
 seen at a great distance. 
 
 'Alight on this plain,' said the steed, 'and take 
 a small knife from my other ear ; with, this knife 
 you shall kill and flay me. When you have done 
 this, envelope yourself in my hide, and you can pass 
 the gate unscathed and unmolested. When you 
 get inside you can come out at pleasure ; because, 
 when once you enter, there is no danger, and you 
 can pass and repass whenever you wish, and let me 
 tell you, that all I have to ask of you, in return for 
 any little service I may have rendered you, is that 
 you, when once you get inside of the gates, will 
 immediately return, and drive away any birds of 
 prey that may be fluttering around to feed on my 
 carcass, and more, that you will pour any little 
 drop of that powerful ' ice,' if such still remain in 
 the bottle, upon my flesh, to preserve it fromr- co 
 ruption. When you do this in memory of me, if it 
 be not too troublesome, dig a pit and cast my re- 
 mains into it.' 
 
 ' Well,' said Conn-eda, ' my noblest steed, be- 
 cause you have been so faithful to me hitherto, and 
 because I had the pleasure, as well as thehappiness, 
 to meet with you, and you still would have rendered 
 me further service, I consider such a proposal in- 
 sulting to my feelings as a man, and totally at vari- 
 ance with spirit which can feel the value of grati- 
 tude, not to speak of my feelings as a prince. You, 
 that propose to sacrifice your life for my welfare and 
 benefit— what a horrid revolting proposal your good 
 
1G4 
 
 IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 nature prompt* yuu to make — a proposal wliich 
 shall ncTcT be sanctioned by me, much Uss its dc- 
 laili) be i-arried into execuiinn. Ah, you, who have 
 been my doarcsi compiinioii, fuiihful friend and infalli- 
 ble couusellor, to deuinnd such a 6ucriliee at my hands ! 
 But as a prince I am able to say come what may — 
 come deatfl ilsclfio its mo^it hideou;* forms and terrors 
 — I nc%er will sacritico private friendship to personal 
 interest, no mailer what the urycneies or provocations 
 may be. Hence I am, I swear by my arms of valor, 
 prepared to meet the worst^vcn death itself — sooner 
 ihan violate ihc piineiples of hiimnniiy, honor and 
 friendship ! My life, in corrtiboraiion of what I sinic 
 Hs a prince nnd a hero, shall be sacriliced before I will 
 lay a single linger upon my noble need nnd eoiin>('llnr, 
 »o injure bis life. Come, O death, come In y. ur most 
 hideous forms, and you will Hnd what an Irish piinet-, 
 Kllcd wi[h grateful fet line's can ei.ilnr' , w ih not oulj 
 patienrc but clicerfulne-s ! Well, let me sny. yonr 
 death would lead me lo >ic;or<. But what wmi'd ilmr 
 victory he hut a iriumjih over a weak wuaian ,' What 
 a sacriliee you propose !' 
 
 ' Pshaw, man ! heed not that ; do whai I advise yuu, 
 and prosper.' 
 
 ' Never, never!' exclaimed the prince. 
 
 ' Well, then, son of the gnat western monarch,' said 
 the horse, with a tone of sorrow, ' if you do i ot follow 
 ray advice on this occasion, I can tell you iliat both 
 _>ou unil I shall perish, and shall never meet ai;ain ; 
 hut, if you act as 1 have instructed you, maciers shall 
 a.ssume a happier nnd more pleasing Kspecc ihun you 
 imagine. I have noi misled you heretofore, and if 1 
 have not, what need have you to doubt the most im- 
 portant portion of my ccuns 1 > Do e.\aeily as I have 
 directed you. else you »iil cause a worse fate than 
 death to befall me. And, moreover, I can tell you 
 that, if you persist in your resolution, I have done with 
 you lurever.' 
 
 When the prince found that his noble siced could 
 not be dissuaded from his purpose, he took the knife 
 out of his ear with leluctance, and, with a falterin>,' 
 mind and trembling hand, essayed experimcniuUy to 
 point the weapon at his throat. l,'onn-eda's eyes were 
 bathed in tears ; but no sooner had he pointed the 
 dniidic ' seian ' to the throat of his good steed, than 
 the dagger, as if impelled by .some druidic power, stuck 
 in his neck, and in an instant the work of death was 
 d'me, and the noble animal fell dead at his feet. When 
 the prince saw his noble steed fall dead by his hand, he 
 cast hiiES'-lf on the ground, and cried aloud until his 
 consciousness was gone. When ho recovered, he per- 
 ceived that the steed was quite dead, and, as he thought 
 there was no room left for hope of resuscitating him 
 he considend it the most prudent course he could 
 adopt to act according to the advive he had given him. 
 After many misgivings of mind, and abundant showers 
 of tears, he essayed the task of flaying him, which was 
 that only of a few minutes. When he found that he had 
 the hide separated Irom the carrion, he, in the derange- 
 ment of the moment, enveloped himself with it, and 
 proceeding towards the magnilicent city in rather a 
 demented state of mind, entered it \vithout any moles- 
 tation or opposition. It was a surprisingly populous 
 city, and an extiemcly wealthy place; but it's beauty, 
 magnihcence and wealth had no charm for Conn eda, 
 because the ihougbus of the loss he sustained in his 
 dear steed were paramount to those of all other earthly 
 considerations. 
 
 Ue had scarcely proceeded more than fifty paces 
 from the gate, until the last request of his beloved 
 ' druoidhcacht ' steed forced iiselt upon his mind, and 
 compelled him to return to perform the last solemn 
 injunction imposed upon him. When he came to the 
 spot upon which the remains of his beloved 'draoid- 
 heacht ' steed lay, an appalling sight presented itself; 
 ravens and other carnivorous birds of prey were tearing 
 and devouring the flesh of his dear steed. It was but 
 short work to put them to flight ; and, having uncork- 
 ed bis little jur of ' ice,' be deemed it a labor of love to 
 embalm the now mangled carrion with the precious 
 ointment. The potent ' ice ' had scarcely touched the 
 inanimate flesh, when, to the surprise of Conn-eda, it 
 
 commenced to undergo some strange change, and in a 
 few minutes, to bis unspeakable astonishment, and in- 
 expressible joy, it assumed the form of one of the 
 handsomest and noblest young men imaginable, and, 
 in the twinkling of an eye, the piiuce was locked in his 
 embrace, smothering him with kisses, and drowning 
 him with tears of joy. \Yhen one recovered from his 
 ecstacy of joy, and the other from his surprise, the 
 strange youth thus addressed the prince : — 
 
 ' Most noble and puissant prince, yuu are the best sight 
 I ever saw wiih my eyes, and I the most foriunato be- 
 ing in existence fur having met you. Biholdinmy 
 person, chanted to the iiaiurnl shape, your little shaggy 
 'diaoidhiacbt' steid. I am bruiher uf the king of this 
 city, and it was the wicked Druid, Fionn liadhna, who 
 kept lilt) so long iu hondngo ; but he was forced to give 
 me up when you came to ccmsull liiin, us my ' geis ' 
 was then broken ; yet ! could not reeuver mv pristine 
 sh< pe and uppiuiaiice niiless yuu had acted as you 
 have kindly duiK'. It was iiiv own sisier that urged 
 the (|iieen, your siep-iiiolber. to send _> on in quest of 
 the siceii and puwerliil puppy hound, which my 
 brother has long had in keeping. N5y sister, rest us- 
 suied, had no thought uf doing _\ou ilie least injury, 
 bu; mu.h good, as you shall iiiid hereafter; because, 
 if she were maliciously inclined towards yiin, she could 
 have accomplished her end without any trouble. In 
 short, she oidy wanted to f n e you from all future dan- 
 ger and disaster, ami recover me from my relentless 
 enemii^s through your instrumentality. Come with 
 nie, my friend and deliverer, and the steed, and the 
 puppy hound of extraordinary powers, and the golden 
 apides shall be thine, and a cordial welcome shall greet 
 yuu in tny brother's abode ; for you deserve all this 
 and much more.' 
 
 The exciting joy felt on the occasion was mutual, 
 and they lost no lime in idle congratulations, but pro- 
 ceeded on 10 the royal residence of i he Kmg of Loeh 
 Erne. Here they were both received with demonstra- 
 tions of joy by ihe king and his cliiefiains ; and, when 
 the purport of Conu-cda's visit became known to the 
 king, he gave a free consent to bestow on Conn-eda 
 the black steed, the ' coilean con na mbuadh,' culled 
 Samer, and the three golden apples of healih that were 
 growing in his garden, under the special condition, 
 however, that he would consent to remain as his guest 
 until he would set out on his journey, in proper time 
 to fullil his 'geis.' Conn-eda, at the earnest solicita- 
 tion of his friends, consented, and remained in the 
 royal residence of the Firbolg King of Loch Erne, in 
 the enjoyment of the most delicious and fascinating 
 pleasures during that period. 
 
 When the time of his departure came, the three 
 golden apples were plucked from the crystal tree in the 
 midst of the pleasure garden, and deposited in his 
 bosom ; the puppy hound, Samer, was leashtd, and 
 the leash put into his bund, and the black steed, richly 
 harnessed, was got in readiness for him to mount. The 
 king himself helped him on horseback, and both he 
 and his brother assured him that he might not fear 
 burning mountains or hissing serpents, because none 
 would impede him, as his steed was a passport to and 
 from his subaqueous kingdom at every time. And 
 both he and his brother extorted a promise from 
 Conn-eda that he would visit them once every year, at 
 least. 
 
 Conn-eda took his leave of his dear friend, and the 
 king, his brother ; the parting was a tender one, soured 
 hy regret on both sides. He proceeded on his way, 
 without meeting anything to obstruct him, and, in due 
 time, came in sight of the ' dun ' of his father, where 
 the queen had been placed on the pinnacle of the tower, 
 in the full hope that, as it was the last day of her im- 
 prisonment there, the prince would fail to make his ap- 
 pearance, and thereby forfeit all pretensions and right 
 to the crown of his father forever. But her hopes were 
 doomed to disappointment, for wnen it had been an- 
 nounced to her by her couriers, who had been posted 
 to waleh the arrival of the prince, .hut he approached, 
 she was incredulous; but when she saw him mounted 
 upon a foaming black steed, richly harnessed, and 
 leading a strange kind of an animal ot the dog kind by 
 
 a silver chain, she at once knew he was returning in 
 triumph, and that her schemes laid for his deslruciioa 
 were frustrated. In the excess of grief ui her disap- 
 pointment, she cast herself from the top of the tower, 
 and was instantly dashed in pieces. Conn-eda met a 
 welcome reception from his father, who mtumed for 
 him as lost to him forever, during his absence, and 
 when the base conduct of the queen became known, 
 the king and his chieftains ordered her remains to bo 
 consumed to ashes, for her perfidy and wickedness. 
 Conn-eda planted the three golden apples in his 
 I garden, and itist;intly a great tree, bearing similar 
 fruit, sprung up. This tree caused all the district 10 
 ' produce un i xuberance of crops and fruits, so that it 
 became as feriile and plentiful as the dominions of the 
 I Firhoigs, in consequince of the exlrordlnary powers 
 j possessed by the golden Iruit. The hound, Samer, and 
 ; the steed, were of the utmost utility to him ; and bis 
 I reign was long ami prosperous, and celebrated among 
 I the old people for ihe great abundance of corn, fruit, 
 I milk, fowl and lishes that pievailed during this ht<ppy 
 reign. It was after ihe name of Conneda the province 
 of Connacht, or ' Conneda, (,'onnachi,' was to called. 
 
 JoNATii.vN Simps in. the Uicuwayman. — He was 
 possessed of about XSOuU, but his expenses were so 
 ex truvagant that this large sum was soon exbausiid. 
 Ue they went to the highway, committed a robbcrv, 
 was uppreheiicled, and would certuinly have been hung 
 Imd not some ol his lich lelaiions procured a reprieve. 
 The difficulty of obtaining it may be guessed from the 
 fact that it arrived at Tyburn just when the rope was 
 ab. nt his neck. Such was his obduracy, that when 
 returning to Newgate behind one of the sheriflT's men, 
 the latter asked him what ho thought of the reprieve 
 when he had come to the gallows. Ue replied, ' No 
 more than I thought of my dying day." When he came 
 to the prison door, the turnkey refused to receive him, 
 saying that he was sent to be executed, and that he 
 was discharged of him, and would not permit him 
 to enter without a new warrant. Upon which Simp- 
 son exclaimed, ' What an unhappy cast-ofi" dog am 
 I, that both Tyburn and Newgate should in one day 
 refuse to entertain me. Well, I'll mend my ways 
 for the future, and try whether I can't merrit a re- 
 ception at them both, next time I am brought 
 thither.' He immediately recommenced his opera- 
 tions, and one day robbed a gentlemen of a purse 
 full of counters, which he supposed were gold. He 
 kept them in his pockets, always anxiously looking 
 out for his benefactor. About four months after he 
 met him on Baghshot Heath, riding in his coach. 
 ' Sir,' said he, ' 1 believe you made a mistake the 
 last lime 1 had the happiness of seeing you, in giv- 
 ing those pieces. I have been troubled ever since, 
 lest you should have wanted them at cards, and am 
 glad of this opportunity to return them ; only, for 
 my care, I require you to come at this moment out 
 of your coach, and give me your breeches, that I 
 may search them at leisure, and not trust any more 
 to your generosity, lest you should mistake again.' 
 A pistol enforced his demand, and Simpson found a 
 gold watch, a gold snuff-box, and ninety-eight 
 guineas, with five jacobuses. At another time he 
 robbed Lord Delamore of three hundred and fifty 
 guineas. He was almost unequalled in his depre- 
 dations ; in one day he robbed nineteen people, and 
 took above two hundred pounds, and in the space of 
 •six weeks committed forty robberies in the county 
 of Middlesex. Ue even ventured to attack the Duke 
 of Uerwick, and took from him articles to a great 
 value. But wickedness has a boundary over which 
 it cannot pass. Simpson attacked two captains of 
 the guards ; a desperate struggle ensued, his horse 
 was shot under him, and he was wounded in both 
 arms and one of his legs before he was taken. He 
 was sent to Newgate, and now found that he was 
 not refused entrance, and he soon also discovered 
 that Tyburn was equally ready to receive him. He 
 was executed on the 8th of September, 1686. 
 [Whitehead's Lives of Highwaymen, &c. 
 
 86. - li 
 
 J 
 
IRISH MISCKLI.ANY. 
 
 165 
 
 THE WOMAN OF THREE COWS. 
 
 TRA^'Sr.ATKD PROM THE IIII9II BY 0. MANOAN 
 
 Tilii biUiul, wli'ch i^ of a honrily cint, \vu 
 intondad a^ ii rehuke to tin sau«y pridti of a 
 wjman in hnm'>le lifj, who assumed airs of 
 con-iequjnce from heiric; tlia pT<so-!sor of tli t,e 
 cows. Its author's name is unknown ; hut its 
 age can be d'lormioed from the Un^uaj;c, as 
 belonging to the early p irt of the sevontecnlh 
 century. That it was formerly very popular in 
 Munster may he concluded from the f.ict th it 
 the phrise, ' E isy, oh, worninof three cows,' 
 has become a saying in chat province ou any 
 occasion upon which it is desinlile to lo ver the 
 pretensions of boastful or consetjuential persons : 
 
 O WoMAS of Three Caws, a?rath: don't lei your 
 tooKue thus rattle! 
 
 don't be saucy, don't be stiff, bacause you may 
 
 have cattle. 
 
 1 have seen— and, here's rav hand to you, I only s:ty 
 
 • what's true — 
 A many a cue with twice your stock not hilf so 
 proud as you. 
 
 r, and Qon^tbe their 
 
 Good luck to you, don't scjru 
 
 despiser, 
 For worldly wealth soon melts away, and cheats the very 
 
 miser; 
 And death soon strips the proudest wreath from haughty 
 
 human brows; 
 Tuaa dou't ks ^tilT, and don't bd proud, good Woman of 
 
 Three Cows! 
 
 See where Alomonia's* heroes lie, proud Owen Morels des- 
 cendants, 
 
 'Tis they that won the glorious name, and had the grand 
 attendants! 
 
 If they were forced to bow to Fate, as every mortal bows. 
 
 Can you be proud, can you be stiff, my Woman of Three 
 Cows? 
 
 The brave sons of the Lord of Clare, they left the land to 
 
 Mavrone !t for they were banished, with no hope oi their re- 
 turning — 
 
 "Who knows in what abodes of want those youths were 
 driven to house? 
 
 Yet Ton can give yourself these airs, O Woman of Three 
 Cows! 
 
 Think of Donnell of the Ships, the chief whom nothing 
 
 daunted — 
 See how he fell in distant Spain, unchronicled, unchanted! 
 He sleeps, the great O'Sullivan, where thunder cannot 
 
 rouse — 
 Then ask yourself, should Yotr be proud? good Woman of 
 
 three cows! 
 
 O'Ruark, Maguire, those souls of fire, whose names are 
 
 shrined in story — 
 Think how their high achievements once made Erin's great- 
 est glory — 
 
 Yet now their bones lie mouldering under weeds and 
 cypress boughs. 
 
 And so, for all your pride, will yours, O Woman of Three 
 Cows! 
 
 Th' O'Carrolls also, famed when fame was only for the 
 
 boldest, 
 Eest in forgotten sepulchres with Erin's best and oldest; 
 Yet who so great as they of yore in battle or carouse? 
 Just think of that, and hide your head, good Woman of 
 
 Three Cows! 
 
 big with vain 
 ne more, I see, 
 
 Your neighbor's poor, and you it seems ar 
 ideas, 
 
 Because, inagh!t you've got three cows— i 
 than she has; 
 
 That tongue of yours wags more at times than charity al- 
 lows. 
 
 But, ifyou're strong, be merciful, great Woman of Three 
 
 THK BDMMINO UP. 
 
 there you go!yoa still, of course, keep up yourfcorn- 
 
 ful bearing; 
 Im too poor to hinder you; but, by the clonk I'm 
 
 And 
 
 ■ing, 
 
 If I had but four cows myself, even though you were my 
 
 spouse. 
 Id thwack you well to cure your pride, my Woman of 
 
 Three Cows! 
 
 •Munster. 
 tMy grief. 
 tForsooth. 
 
 more curious than any of the rest. On enter- 
 ini; it one is induced to helicve himsclfin some 
 antiunt temple, decorated with all the expense 
 ind msirnifieance of art ; yet, notwithstanding 
 the spl 'ndor ami lieauty that catches the oyo on 
 (^ \ '-ide. there is something of solemnity in 
 I hion of the place, which causes iiself to 
 I 1 It hy the most indifferent spectator. The 
 (1 I covered with a crystalline substance, and 
 tl les in many places oncrnsted wilh the 
 
 fjshioned in style not unlike the (iotliic 
 'st\le of ornament, and the top is embossed with 
 \'!jinser (d p\ ramies of the like beautifully white 
 an 1 I) llucid niatnr. At the points of these 
 St dai tites are perpctaally hanging drops of 
 pellucid water, for when one falls another suc- 
 -vSccfcK These splendid gems contribute not a 
 litilc to the glorious appearance of the roof, 
 a~ will h, when illuminated, appears as if formed 
 ' 111 ihe puiest cry>tal Hero also are three ex- 
 traurdinary and beautiful congelations, which, 
 without the aid of a strong imagination, may be 
 taken for an organ, an altar, and a cross. 
 ExTRAORuiNAKY Caverns NEAR Kii.KiNNEY — i The former, except when strictly examined, appears 
 About two miles from the city of Kilkenny, in the to be a regular work of art, and is of considerable size; 
 neighborhood of the Park house of the Dun more fdtn- the second is of a pimple form, rather long than square, 
 ily, are a number of caves, as curious, though not so and tlie cross reaches from the iioor to the roof, which 
 extensive, as those mentioned in a previous article, ni.ay be about twenty feet. These curious figures are 
 They are thus mentioned by a visitor: — produced hy the water which distils from the upper 
 
 'After a diiiionlt descent of about one hundred feet, i part of the cave, impregnated with lime, which, by 
 the entrance to this subterranean world is gained. The ' gradual petrifaction, acquired at length those forms 
 
 THE WOMAN OF THREE COWS. 
 
 appearance of the first cavern is uncommonly awful, 
 and gives rise to the idea of a Gothic structure, grand 
 in ruin. The solemnity of this place is not a little in- 
 creased in its effect by contrast with the gayety of 
 those scenes which present themselves oii every side 
 previous to ertering it. The floor is uneven, and 
 stones or rocks of various sizes are scattered over it. 
 The sides are composed of ragged rock, in some parts 
 covered with moss, and in others curiously frosted, 
 and from the arched roof several huge rocks project, 
 that seem to threaten instant ruin. 
 
 'The circumference of this cave is not less than two 
 hundred feet, and its height above fifty. There is a 
 small but continual dropping of water from the ceil- 
 ing, and a few petrifactions resembling icicles. This 
 place has its inhabitants, for, on entering it, you arc 
 surprised by a confused noise, occasioned by a multi 
 tude of wild pigeons, disturbed by your intrusion. 
 From this apartment there is a passage to the left, 
 where, by a small ascent, a hole is gained resembling 
 the mouth of an oven, but larger, which introduces 
 you to a placs where, by the help of torches, day-light 
 being entirely excluded, a surprising scene of mon- 
 strous stones piled on each other, and chequered with 
 various colors, tremendous rocks, and an infinity of 
 stalactites, presents itself. 
 
 'Nature, one would imagine, designed the first cave 
 as a preparative for what remains to be seen; by it the 
 eye is familiarized with uncommon and anfjil objects, 
 and the mind totaHy fortified against terrors, the natu- 
 ral result of a combination of appearances so surpris- 
 ing, terrific and menacing. The spectator flatters him- 
 self that he has nothing to behold more awful, nor 
 anything more dangerous to meet, than what he iinds 
 in the first cavern. But he soon discovers his mistake, 
 for the bare want of that light which dresses nature 
 with gaiety, is alone sufTlcieiit to render the second far 
 more dreadful. In the first place he fancies ruin 
 frowns upon him from several parts ; but in this it is 
 more immediately threatened fiom a ihoiisand rocks 
 rudely piled on each other, bursting in on him from 
 the bending sides, or pending from the roof, while 
 by one (iilse step you are da«hfd to pieces in ihe 
 precipice beneath. It would, indeed, be impracticable 
 to range over the apartment, had not nature, as if 
 studious of the safety. of the curious, caused spars to 
 shoot from the surface of the rocks, which prevent 
 your feet from slipping beneath, and at the sides serve 
 as ladders, whereby you can ascend and descend with 
 tolerable facility 
 
 now so pleasing. 
 
 When this curious apartment has been sufficiently 
 examined, the guides lead you a considerable way 
 through winding passages, until a glimmering light 
 surprises yon. Here your journey — a quarter of a 
 mile from the entrance — terminates; but on returning 
 to the first cavern, an entrance into other apartments 
 as extensive, though less curious, presents itself. The 
 passages into some are so low that you are obliged to 
 creep through them; by these you proceed till tho noise 
 of a subterraneous river is heard — but farther none 
 have ventured.' 
 
 The church of St. John Lateran contains a trophy 
 of the victories of Chri.'tianity over Islamism, for 
 there is suspended, near the choir, the banner of John 
 Sohieski, at the famous battle of Vienna. There are 
 preserved in this place some of the most venerable 
 relics in the world. Behind a large grating at the 
 back of the choir, on the way leading to the sachrisiy, 
 is placed the table on which our Lord instituted the 
 Eucharist. The table appeas to be about twelve feet 
 long and about six feet in width. It was covered wiih 
 plates of silver hy the pontiff's. These were carried olT 
 by the constable of Bourbon in the sacking of Rome. 
 Near tliis are other relics, at the sight of which the 
 heart will be stricken with compunction. There is a 
 part of the purple vestment which was placed on our 
 Saviour's shoulders in tho pretorium, a pieee of the 
 sponge which was steeped in gall and vinegar, a part 
 of tho tunic which St. John the Evangelist wore when 
 he was brought prisoner to Rome from Ephesus, and 
 also part of the chain with which he was bound ; the 
 shouldcV of St. Laurence (his head may be seen on his 
 festival in the chapel of the Pope's sacristan, at the 
 Quirinal palace); the head of Si. Pancratius,somc of the 
 blood of St. Charles Borromeo and of St. Philip Neri, 
 and a tablet composed of the ashes of several martyrs. 
 When wo left the treasury, we went out into the clois- 
 ter, where there are some good remains of the palaco 
 of Constantine. There are several relics, but as their 
 authenticity rests merely on tradition, which is not 
 considered sufficiently authentic, ihiy are not exposed 
 to the veneration of the faiihful. 
 
 An Irishman attending a Quaker meeting heard a 
 
 young Friend make the following announcement: — 
 
 ' Brethern and sisters, I am marrying a daughter of 
 
 the Lord.' ' Faith, an' it will be a long time before 
 
 This astonishing passage leads to an apartment far I yon ca° see your father-in-law,' replied Patrick. 
 
106 
 
 IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 THE THREE DEVILS. 
 
 'Seymour, have jou licurd ilii; story Paddy Siilli- 
 ran Cells of liiinself !' 
 
 'No. U tliut the man that lives in the oeiit, white- 
 washed cottage on the bank of the river !' 
 
 'The same,' replied Richard Butler to bisi cousin, 
 Kir. Seymour, as they snt over their wine, on a heauti- 
 fiil suinincr evening. The whole of the surrounding 
 country belonged to him ; and there were lew of the 
 jieasanlry you met for a mile round who would not, 
 when asked who he was, n.'jdy, 'the Masther/ thinking 
 that explanation enough. 
 
 "The .larnc — hut you must hear him yourself. May 
 I trouble you to pull the liell — thank you— it is noth- 
 ing without hin own description. John (to a servant,) 
 send up to Paddy Sullivan, and tell liini I nill thank 
 him to come down.' 
 
 Paddy was soon seen 'spreading' down ; he seemed 
 A fine stout man about forty, who, when he unified the 
 room, exhibited a laughable exterior. His Sunday 
 coat was taken from 'the box,' and donned over his 
 CTcry-day waistcoat, and hin old working breeches 
 formed but a poor contrast to his bright light blue 
 stockings, part of the Sunday nttire also. And, to 
 crown all, the 'ould caubeen' surmounted his tall per- 
 son, like the 'cap of liberty' on a Itaypole. 
 
 'A fine evening, Paddy,' said Richard. 
 
 'Wisha, an" that's the truth for your honor, God 
 bless it !' was the reply. 
 
 'Paddy, I sent for you to beg you would tell the 
 story of the 'The Three Devils,' to Mr. Seymour, my 
 cousin.' 
 
 'Ya then, 'tis I would do so for your honor's dog, 
 let alone for this fine young gentleman, and 'tis sorry 
 I am 'tis not l>ettcr, Masther Richard. But the story, 
 sir. It was just next Michealmas five years, afher 
 our having most of the harvest gother in, in the little 
 haggart, when I came home from the wotk, an' sure 
 enough I was tired ; it was about five o'clock, an' 
 'twas for all the world such an evening as this. Well, 
 as I was saying, afther I came back, I went outside 
 the door and sat down ; an' sure I hadn't been there 
 long, when op comes three little dacent-looking men, 
 all in black, an', to tell the truth, I didn't like their 
 looks at all. Well, one of the fellows says to mo, 
 'Arrah, Paddy Sullivan, i»n't that your name V 
 
 'That's thrue for you,' says I, "twas that I was 
 christened surely ; but how did you know my name >.' 
 says I — (for if I was to be shot, I couldn't say sir to 
 the fellows.) 
 
 'Don't be afther axing what you know nothing 
 aboat,' says ihc little fellow. 
 
 'And sure that's my reason for axing,' says I, 'be- 
 kase I don't know it.' 
 
 •Why thin, Paddy," says he, 'do you think I'll make 
 yon as wise as myself?' 
 
 An' thin they all set up a laugh, an' such a laugh ! 
 An" thin says ano:her fellow to me, says he, 'Paddy, 
 do you know the way to the road V 
 
 'Faix, if I don't, I ought,' says I; an' wid that the 
 first fellow, who was the masther over them, iis you 
 arc over us, sir (not that I compare ye), says mighty 
 hard and slow — 
 
 'Paddy Sullii.'an,' says he, 'you had bctther answer 
 the gentleman,' says he, 'd'ye hear 1' 
 
 'Well I do, if that will plazc ye,' says I, though 
 smart I spoke I was shivering all ovet. 
 
 'An' if you do,' says the masther, ' nill you show it 
 to us as wc want to know the way V 
 
 'There's a word wantin',' says I. 
 
 •Oh, iss!" says he, an wid that he cocks up his 
 nose (an a fine one he had of his own, that is a big 
 one, I mane, for it was to a certainty the uglie.st 1 
 ever saw), 'oh, iss,' says he, 'if you plaze — will that 
 do ye:' 
 
 'Ay,' says I, 'that's what I likes, being polite." 
 
 But he cut me short, an' says he, 'dont be both- 
 erin' us wid your blathcrin" nonsense.' 
 
 So wid that I got afeard, an* up I got, an' says 
 1, "come along, an' I'll show you the road.' 
 
 Off we went to the road. Well, as we went 
 
 I along (I afore 'cm), they were laughing as hard as I 
 j they could pelt. I bore a long time all this, but at 
 I at laNt I turns round, 'an' says I, 'wi...hB, ewrc you 
 might as well let me into the joke; 1 likes a bit of 
 fun n.s well as any one," says I, (an' faix, that was 
 [ true for me, your honor.) 
 
 I Then the little man cocks himself up, nn' nays 
 he, 'Paddy Sullivan, liould your tongue, I bid ye, 
 ye'U know the joke, as you call it. perhaps sooner 
 I than ye wish.' 
 
 Afther that I never says a word till I got to the 
 I road, an' whin I got there, I siiys, 'there's the road 
 for yc, an' God bless ye.' 
 
 'If ever you mention that name afore nic again, 
 Paddy Sullivan," says the little fellow, 'I'll be the 
 death of you — that is, while we're together.' 
 
 •Faix, an" that won't be long,' says I. 
 
 •Longer than you think, maybe,' says he. 
 
 'Wisha, then, if that's the way you talk,' says I, 
 'good-bye to ye.' 
 
 Oh, musha! an' I did look, an' sure I wasn't in a 
 hurry to look again, for instead of three Christians 
 born, there were three black things, with long cars 
 an' tails! As soon as I had looked at 'em, the ould 
 fellow says, •You must come,' says he, 'wid us 
 now.' 
 
 •The divil take me, if I do,' says I. 
 
 'An' so we will take you, never fear,' says he; 
 'shove along.' 
 
 'There's two words to that,' says I. 
 
 'Maybe not,' says he. 
 
 So wid that, they tuck up three little kippens 
 off the road, an' no sooner did they touch them, 
 than they became, afore my eyes, rale shillelaghs!' 
 
 'Come, now, boys," says the maisther to the 
 others, 'use these," says he, an" sure enough they 
 were the lads that knew how. 
 
 'So one fellow ups wid his bit of oak, 'Come, 
 Paddy," says he, 'I'm tould it's mighty hard to hurt 
 you; try this, for I want to know if it's the ease,' 
 says he. 
 j So he hits me a crack, an' 'pon my conscience, 
 that was the rale delight, though, faix, I didn't 
 I think so at that time, to tell the truth. Afther that, 
 i I don't know how it was, but myself felt thp legs 
 runnin' away wid me; so off I pelted towards the 
 town, and the fellows afther me like mad, an' slap 
 into the town we went, on' that as hard as ever wc 
 could leg it, up one street and down another. Every 
 turn I'd make, slap afore me at it would one of the 
 fellows bo; an' sure, thin, if my shouldhers didn't 
 pay the piper, no mathcr. Well, at last, as I wont, 
 like a dog afther a hare, round a corner, to bo sure 
 the black lad was there afore, but I ducked as I 
 passed, and the fellow for once missed his aim. 
 Well, faix, I laughed, an' says I to myself (for I 
 was afeard to say it out), I'm a clever fellow, for I 
 bate the divil! (for didn't I tell your honor there 
 were three devils all the time!) Arr.ih, the word 
 wasn't thought of, when slap comes the lad ridin' 
 on my back", an' he cocks his legs out afore my 
 mouth! Widout sayin' a word, I up wid my hands, 
 an' I caught him by the calves of his legs, an' 
 pinched him as hard as ever 1 could, an' wid that 
 he began to roar like a bull, so that you might hear 
 him a mile off, and then he fell off my back like a 
 sack of whate! (I often heard that blacks were 
 mighty touchy about the legs.) Well, 'twas myself 
 was glad in my heart widin, an' sure enough I 
 didn't go far at all, when at a turn there was an- 
 other black afore me there — so, faix, myself tried 
 another duck, an' he missed his aim like the other. 
 'Oh, ho, my lad,' says I, 'you shan't get a ride at 
 all events'- but at that moment, smack came my 
 lad on my back. Ah! if the other fellow's shins 
 got it before, this chap got it ten times as hard, 
 and if the other roared, he never could equal this 
 lad. 
 
 •Well,' says I to myself, 'better have one than 
 three,' says I, 'and I suppose I'll soon be rid of him 
 too,' says I. 
 
 Arrah, the words weren't said (to myself ) when 
 the last fellow, who was the masthc, says, 'Paddy 
 Sullivan, 'tis jou that knows a great dale about the 
 niallher; faix, thin, I won"t jump on your back," 
 says ho, 'but I'll follow till yuu can run no more, 
 an' thin I'll have you n»y, an' 'tis I will punish 
 you for my broibors, for I'm the divil.' 
 
 'A blue look-out,' my» I, -but I'm not tired yet, 
 any how.' 
 
 So we pegged away like mad dog<, up one street, 
 down another, through main street and little street, 
 until, afther running a long time, I found myself 
 afore the market — an' a tine one it is, Masther 
 liichard — so slap I goes down it, an' slap comes the 
 divil afther me. I went dodging through the peo- 
 pie, an' afther a while I gives a look back, an' if I 
 went towards the door I should meet him, an' faix, 
 'twas Paddy Sullivan had no fancy for that same. 
 Well, jist thin, what sh'-uld I see but a big baker's 
 basket afore me, mighty invitin'. Widout delay, 
 in I jumps, but I suppose the ould follow seen me 
 as I went in, for afore I could say Jack Robinson, 
 he comes and hoiscs the basket, an' myself, on' all, 
 on his back, an' away he pegs. Well, to be sure, I 
 g.ive myself up for lost, an' sure well I might — the 
 follow legged up one street, down another; but 
 many's the time niy mother towld me that 'I banged 
 Banagher,' an' sure that follow, they say, banged 
 my black friend — so 'twould be quare if 1 wasn't a 
 match for him. Just as the fi How was runnin' like 
 a house afire by a little shop, I made a grab at the 
 sign-post. I caught it, an' there I hung, an', would 
 you bleeve it, sir, sorra a bit of the divil missed 
 me. Well, to be sure, 'twas myself that was glad 
 to get rid of him, but I soon got tired of my place, 
 for my arms were not able to hould up my big 
 body. 
 
 I hadn't been there long when out comes the 
 man of the the shop, a low, fat little man, and up 
 he looks. 
 
 'Wisha, then, bad luck to your four bones,' says 
 he, 'you omadhaw n of the divil, what are you doin' 
 there?' 
 
 'Oh, thin,' says myself, 'if you'll help me down, 
 'tis I that won't trouble this post any longer, an' 
 'tis I that's thankful to it, if you but knew all.' 
 
 'Ay,' says he, 'so you ought, for 'tis from a post 
 like that you'll be cndin' your- days yet.' 
 
 •But not till you go afore me to thry if the beam 
 is strong enough, an' 'tis your body that would give 
 it a good thrial,' says I. 
 
 Wid that the little man's face got very red, an' in 
 he walked, or waddled into the house, an' present- 
 ly out he comes wid a wattle in his fist, an' out 
 afther him comes a little boy, wid a chair — up he 
 gets on a chair, an' begins bangin' me, for he well 
 knew I could not touch him, in regard of being 
 obliged to support myself wid both my hands. 
 But at last, whin he wint too far, an' continued 
 pelting away, what do you think, your honor, Mr. 
 Seymour, I didr' 
 
 'Why, I suppose you let yourself drop down," 
 answered Mr. Seymour. 
 
 'Oh, the sorra bit, your honor; but I awore!' 
 
 'Awoke!' cried Seymour, 'surely you were not 
 asleep:' 
 
 'Wisha, an' that's thrue I was, an' instead of the 
 little man bein' batin' me, 'twas only the wife that 
 was thumpin' my head, to awake me to go to my 
 supper — so you see, sir, I only dreamt all about the 
 three devils.' 
 
 A WITNESS was examined before a judge in a 
 case, who required him to repeat the precise words 
 spoken. The witness hesitated, until he riveted the 
 attention of the entire court upon him; then, fixing 
 his eyes earnestly on the judge, began, •May it 
 please your honor, you lie and steal, and get your 
 living by stealing.' The face of the judge reddened, 
 and he immediately said, 'turn to the jury, sir.' 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 167 
 
 WORKS OF FICTION. 
 
 Fii'tion, when pro|ierly uscil, is the scarce of much 
 pleiKuro and iniprovenicnt. By means of it much 
 useful information and wholesoino moral lessons may 
 be inculcated ; and it is certainly llie simplest and 
 most Uf,'reoal)le mode by which (an be comiuunicatod 
 to us an accurate knowbdgo of the manners and cus- 
 toms of ditfcrent countries, a striking delineation of 
 the various passions which at all times a(;itated the 
 human heart, and an intimate and familiar acquaint- 
 ance with specimens of eliaite and elegant composi- 
 tion. To be able, however, to write fiction well, re- 
 quires not a few qualifications, a refined taste, a 
 sound judgment, a vigorous fancy, a fertile imagina- 
 tion, and a good command over languages, are all 
 necessary for him who would excel in this department 
 of letters. The narrator of facts requires merely to be 
 able to describe well. He has a direct course marked 
 out for him, from which he is not to deviate — his busi- 
 ness is only to give a clear detail of events as they 
 have occurred — to paint in the best colors the several 
 scenes that successively develop themselves upon the 
 landscape of time ; but the writer of fiction has no 
 such regularly placed train of circumstances lying be- 
 fore him, and he, therefore, requires more powers of in- 
 vention to suggest incidents and characrers, and a 
 higher degree of discrimination to enable him to select 
 the most suitable and proper. His field is imagina- 
 tion ; and as he wanders over his wide and beautiful 
 domain, he must not allow his attention to be distracted, 
 or his taste to be confused, by the diversity of pleasing 
 objects which are there presented to his view — Howers, 
 wild, sweet, and blooming, are scattered in rich pro- 
 fusion around him; he must not, however, pluck them 
 indiscriminately. Some he mnst pass over, which, 
 though pleasing to the sight, may yet contain an asp 
 under their leaves j while those which he does take, he 
 must so arrange and classify that they may not be 
 joined in a heterogeneous or ill-assorted union, but 
 that harmonising in a soft and bland assimilation, they 
 may coalesce with fitness and propriety. The Eng- 
 lish language abounds in fine models of fiction. The 
 novels of Sir Walter Scott, though generally founded 
 on historical facts, are yet interspersed with fictitious 
 scenes and personages, which impart to them their 
 chief attraction, and by means of which he has so 
 clearly depicted the peculiarities of the national char- 
 acter. No other writer has made fiction so ussful, by 
 combining so much real instruction with improvement. 
 In him, fancy is divested of all her wild absurdities — 
 she runs not out into extravagancies — she soars not 
 aloft, till amid the heights of her empyrean elevation, 
 she loses sight of the world and its realities — she still 
 hovers in view of m.ankind, and though she may 
 sometimes rise, she never wanders — and when she does 
 mount into the regions of ideality, 'tis but to bring 
 down from thence images and illustrations to embel- 
 lish the scenes and characters which are drawn from 
 actual life. 
 
 It is plain how many advantages the writer of fiction 
 has over the historian. The latter is subservient to 
 the train of events ; but the former has the train of 
 events subseivient to him : and thus, when he acts 
 with prudence and taste, he is enabled fully to follow 
 out a principle which he had laid down, and by a series 
 of well-arranged circumstances, to trace the primal 
 cause through all the variety of its consequences and 
 relations. He has an abundance of materials at his 
 command, and he has only to select the most suitable, 
 clothe them in the most appropriate verbiage, and put 
 them together in the most advantageous combination. 
 We read works of fiction for our amusement. Our 
 thoughts are then free and at ease. Other studios, 
 which we pursue merely for instruction, require a con- 
 tinuous tension of the mind, and are not so inviting ; 
 but works of fiction form a pleasing and agreeable re- 
 laxation. Other studies are the field through which 
 we have to search for objects worthy of our particular 
 attention ; but works of fiction are the neatly arranged 
 flower garden, where a sweet odor breathes continually 
 around. We recline upon beds of violets and roBes, 
 and listen to the gentle murmuring of the cascade 
 
 down its sloping declivity. By fiction, virtue and vice 
 are represented in their true characters — set before us 
 in such a way as to excite the propiT emotions of ap- 
 probation and dislike, and be always accompanied, 
 the one with the due rewards, the other with adequate 
 punishments. But there is another department of 
 literature with which fiction is intimately connected, 
 and which to some is the source of the highest intel- 
 lectual pleasure which our nature perhaps is capable of 
 enjoying — and that is poetry. Poetry — lovely poetry 
 — descends upon us in the hour of our pleasures to ex- 
 alt and elevate our feelings. In sweet and holy com- 
 munion she holds converse with us, shedding a fore- 
 taste of heaven's enjoyment's upon our minds, and 
 stilling and smoothing the perturbation of our thoughts 
 into a mild and a halcyon calm. Philosophy and 
 science are the sterner beings with whom at times we 
 associate for instruction; but poetry is the sweet com- 
 panion of our recreations, coming down upon us in 
 angelic mildness, and giving to all sublimary things 
 an investiture of purity and delight. And how closely 
 is fiction connected with poetry — 
 
 ''Tlie poet's eye, in a fine frenzy rolling, 
 
 Doth glance froin heav'u to earth, from earth to heav'n, 
 
 And, as imagination bodies forth 
 
 The forms of tliiugs unkuown, the poet's pen 
 
 Turns them to sliapes, and gives to airy uothing 
 
 A local habitation and a name.' 
 
 With fiction the mind of the poet peoples all his ideal 
 abstractions. Everything around him teems with ob- 
 jects that furnish food for his imagination, and he 
 either creates new groupes of images with which to 
 chequer his scenes, or those that do exist he puts to- 
 gether in new shapes, and diversifies by ever varying 
 alternations. The poet, however,' has fiction more 
 completely at his command. He is not subject to the 
 same restrictictions as the essayist or the moral writer. 
 The wilder and more improbable are the scenes which 
 he describes, the higher spirit of poetry sometimes does 
 he breathe ; while he who writes for instruction must 
 keep versimilitude always before his view, otherwise 
 his object will be defeated, from the deception being 
 too glaring not to be continually perceived. In 
 Shakespeare and Milton a great many of the characters 
 are fictitious; but then we know all along that they are 
 so, and we read them merely for the exquisiteness of 
 the poetry ; but it would detract very much from the 
 pleasure that we feel in reading any of the novels of 
 Scott, if the conviction were constantly intruding upon 
 us that no such events occurred in the particular man- 
 ner in which they are related ; for though, when we 
 close the volume, the consciousness that it is in great 
 part fiction will return, yet the events are so like what 
 might really have happened, that, unwilling to deprive 
 ourselves of the pleasure we experienced, we take 
 refuge in their probability, and almost believe them to 
 be true, and thus insensibly the moral of the tale steals 
 into our minds, and though afterwards we may be 
 somewhat skeptical as to the truth of the facts, yet our 
 judgment has long since decided upon the validity of 
 the precept. The chief thing then to be attended to by 
 writers of fiction is to keep _probal>ility always before 
 them — not turning aside to introduce fine descriptions 
 of scenes which have not in them the possihili ty of be- 
 ing real. Such things in stories of fiction are what the 
 golden apples were to Atalanta; for though she gained 
 possession of the fruit, yet, by stooping to obtain them, 
 she was conquered in the race. 
 
 A Point of Honor — There was something very 
 noble in the reply of the banished Queen of Den- 
 mark, who was suflTering, charged with a crime of 
 which -her answer alone would prove her innocence, 
 when solicited by her husband to return and be 
 reconciled. ' No,' she replied, and the sacrificed a 
 throne to the majesty of her resentment — 'No! if 
 the accusation is just, I am unworthy of his bed ; 
 if it is false, he is unworthy of mine." Her ac- 
 cuser, who could send her a homeless wanderer 
 into the world, was unable to deprive her of the con- 
 sciousness of lier integrity — and that feeling supported 
 her. 
 
 SALT. 
 
 This most useful •substance is found in various 
 parts of the globe, especially in Poland, Hungary, 
 Spain and England, In the province of Valencia, 
 in Spain, there is a mountain of salt, called Cardo- 
 na, five hundred feet high, and nearly three miles 
 in circumference. The salt mines near Cracow, in 
 Poland, which have been worked ever since the 
 middle of the thirteenth century, are computed still 
 to contain salt enough to supply the world many 
 thousand years. 
 
 The principal repository of salt is the ocean, 
 whence, in general, we are supplied with this use- 
 ful article, which is separated from the salt water 
 by evaporation. 
 
 Tho following is a brief account of the mode of 
 evaporating sea-water, for the production of salt, in 
 different countries:— 
 
 In the South of Prance, large trenches are cut 
 near' the sea, which fill with sea-water at high tide; 
 the water being confined in these by flood-gates, 
 the sun evaporates it, and the salt remains in the 
 trenches, whence it is laid up for use. 
 
 On the coast of Syria, the rocks on the shore have 
 been excavated into salt-pans, two or three yards long; 
 these being filled with sea-water, the aqueous part 
 evaporates, and a large quaniitj' of salt gradually 
 forms at the bottom. 
 
 At some places in Cheshire, they saturate the brine 
 with rock-salt, previous to its being evaporated in 
 boilers. One hundred tons of this saturated solution 
 produces about twenty-three tons of salt. 
 
 In the Landgrave of Thuringia a new method has 
 been adopted in the manufacture of salt. A number 
 of wooden vessels are placed firm on posts, six feet 
 from the ground, which may be covered or uncovered 
 in an instant by a movable roof, according as the 
 weather is dry or rainy; these vessels being tilled with 
 sea-water, the process of evaporation takes place mere- 
 ly by the heat of the sun. Salt thus produced is much 
 purer than that procured by evaporation in boilers. 
 Indeed, the salt of commerce is always impure; there 
 are generally combined with it portions of earthy salts 
 and other adventitious substances. The Cheshire salt 
 is of much greater purity than any of the several kinds 
 imported from France and elsewhere. 
 
 To dilate on the various uses of this most indispen- 
 sable substance is quite needless, as there are few per- 
 sons to whom the almost general use of it in our manu- 
 factures, domestic processes, &c., is unknown, still 
 there are some purposes to which it might be applied 
 more generally than it commonly is, especially in ag- 
 riculture, in which, as an article of manure, it is of in- 
 valuable efficacy. However, by a superabundant use, 
 it may produce a contrary effect, and render land sterile. 
 
 The inhabitants of the coasts ot Hindostan and 
 China sprinkle their rice fields with sea-water, using 
 no other manure. In the interior of these countries, 
 they sprinkle the land with salt before it is tilled; and 
 this practice has been followed for ages with the most 
 beneficial results. 
 
 Ill the feeding of cattle, salt is very advautagcous; 
 horses are very fond of it, and cows universally give 
 more milk when supplied with it. There arc some 
 persons in cities who, during the summer months, 
 avail themselves of the advantage of feeding cows with 
 grains preserved with salt; and these cows never fail 
 of continuing to give milk in the greatest abundance 
 whilst supplied with such food Dr. Mitchell relates 
 that, in the back settlements of America,whcrcver salt 
 abounds, the wild beasts of the forest assemble to re- 
 gale themselves, and these places (called by the na- 
 tives Licks), are so much frequented by them, that tho 
 ground is actually trodden to mud. 
 
 Another very useful purpose to which salt is ap- 
 plied is the glazing of stone ware. This mode of 
 glazing was first introduced from Holland into Eng- 
 land in 1700, since which time it has been used in 
 these countries with invariable success. The whole- ' 
 someness of this glaze, in articles intended for domes, 
 lie purposes, is so obvious that it needs no comment. 
 
1(J8 
 
 IRISH AIlSCELhANY. 
 
 CAlvKluAilouJA CASTLE. 
 
 CiRRiGAiiooLT Castle. — This castle is situated 
 at the end of a nook or inlet, in the hay of New- 
 port, in the county of Mayo, Ireland. The proper name 
 ii Carrickauile. It is a strong square tower, ahout fifty 
 feet high, divided into four stories, and at the north 
 and south angles uro two small projecting turrets. 
 The roof was raised considerahly above the parapet 
 wall that surrounds it, as may lie perceived by t!ic 
 gable ends, in one of which was a window. This 
 served as a banqueting room, as it has a chimney, the 
 only remains of one to be seen in the building. On 
 the south-west angle is a low round tower, which 
 terred as a guardroom this has two stones and loop- 
 holes for the discharge of musketry. 
 
 In this casile livid the famous Grace O'Malcy, 
 known among the Irish by the name of Grana Uile. 
 She was the dauglitcr of Owen O'AIaley, and widow 
 of O'Flahcrty, two Irish iliiefs in those puns. After 
 the death of the last, she married Sir Richard Bourke, 
 styled Mac William Eighter, who died in 1585, after 
 having by her three sons an4 one daughter. 
 
 In 1586, Lord Deputy Sidney wrote to the council in 
 England, 'that 'O'Maley was powerful in gallies and 
 men.' 
 
 Grana, who was a high-spirited lady, became fond, 
 at an early age, of the watery clement, and accom- 
 panied her father and his sept in many naval expedi- 
 tions. The coast was plundered of cattle and other 
 property, and many people were murdered during these 
 excursions. Grana was ever foremost in dangers ; 
 and courage and conduct secured her success. All 
 along the north-west coast the afTrightcd natives trem- 
 bled at her name. Her fame attracted many desper- 
 ate and hardy mariner^) from distant parts ; her larger 
 vessels were moored in Clare Island, where she had a 
 strong castle ; her smaller craft she kept at Carriga- 
 hooly. A hole in the castle wall is now shown, 
 through which passed a cable from a vessel, and fas- 
 tened to her bed, that she might be the easier alarmed, 
 »nd prevent surprise. 
 
 In 1575, Grace O'Maley brought four vessels of 
 force before llowth Castle, and landed a number of 
 men to besiege it. The cause of otTcncc was her mes- 
 ■eoger being refused admittance at dinner time. She 
 carried her purpose into effect, and the condition of 
 peace waf, shat the gates of Howth Castle shoald never 
 be shut at dinner time, a practice which was observed 
 for many years after. 
 
 A Fight with a Tiger. — A man entered thej 
 arena (of the Rajah of Coorg), armed only with 
 a Coorg knife, and clothed in short trowsers, 
 which barely covered his hips, and extended only 
 half way down his thighs. The instrument, 
 which he wielded in his right hand, was a heavy 
 blade, something like the coulter of a plough, about 
 two feet long, and full three inches wide, gradually 
 diminishing towards the handle, with which it form- 
 ed a right angle. This knife is used with groat dex- 
 terity b\ the Coorgs, being swung round in the 
 hand before the blow is inflicted, and then brought 
 into contact with the object intended to be struck 
 with a force and effect truly astonishing. The 
 champion who now presented himself before the 
 Knjah was about to be opposed to a tiger, which he 
 volunteered to encounter almost naked, and armed 
 only with the weapon we have just desvribcd. He 
 was rather tall, with a slight figure ; but his chest 
 was deep, his arms long and muscular. His legs 
 were thin ; yet the action of the muscles were per- 
 ceptible with every movement, whilst the freedom 
 of his gait, and the few contortions he performed 
 preparatory to the hazardous enterprise in which he 
 was about to engage, .showed that he possessed un- 
 common activity, combined with no ordinary degree 
 of strength. The expression of his countenance was 
 absolutely sublime when he gave the signal for the 
 tiger to be let loose ; it was the very concentration 
 of moral energy — the index of a high and settled 
 resolution. His body glistened with the oil which 
 had been nibbed over it in ord.r to promote the 
 elasticity of the limbs. He raised his arm for sev- 
 eral moments above his head when he made the mo- 
 tion to admit his enemy into the arena. The bars 
 of a large cage were instantly lifted from above ; a 
 huge royal tiger sprang forward, and stood before 
 the Coorg, waving its tail slowly backward and for- 
 ward, erecting the hair upon it, and uttering a sup- 
 pressed howl. The animal first looked at the man, 
 then at the gallery, where the Rajah and his court 
 were seated to see the sports, but did not appear at 
 all easy in its present state of freedo.n — it was evi- 
 dently confounded at the novelty of its position. 
 After a short survey, it turned suddenly round, and 
 bounded into its cage, from which the keepers, who 
 stood above, beyond the reach of mischief, tried to 
 force it, but in vain. The bars were then dropped, 
 
 and several crackers fastened to its 
 tail, which projected through one of 
 tlie intervals. A lighted match was 
 put into the hand of the Coorg ; the 
 bars were again raised, and the crack- 
 ers ignited. The tiger now darted 
 into the arena with a terrific yell, and 
 while the crackers were exploding, it 
 leaped, turned, and writhed as if in a 
 state of frantic excitement. It at 
 length crouched into a comer, gnarl- 
 ing as a cat does when alarmed. 
 Meanwhile, its retreat had been cut 
 off by securing the cage. During the 
 explosion of the crackers, the Coorg 
 stood watching the enemy, and at 
 length advanced towads him with a 
 slow but firm step. The tiger roused 
 itself, and retreated, the fur on its 
 back being erect, and its tail appar- 
 ently dilated to twice the usual size. 
 It was not at all disposed to com- 
 mence hostilities ; but its resolute 
 foe was not to be evaded. Fixing 
 his eyes intently upon the deadly 
 creature, he advanced with the same 
 measured step, the tiger retreating as 
 before, but still presenting its front 
 to its enemy. The Coorg now stop- 
 ped suddenly ; then moving slowly 
 backward, the tiger rai.sed itself to its 
 full height, curved its back to the necessary segment 
 for a spring, and lashed its tail, evidently meditat- 
 ing mischief. The man continued to retire, and as 
 soon as he was at so great a distance that the fixed 
 expression of his eye was no longer distinguishable, 
 the ferocious brute made a sudden bound forward, 
 crouched, and sprang with a short, sharp growl. Its 
 adversary, fully prepared for this, leaped actively on 
 one side, and, as the tiger reached the ground, swung 
 round his heavy knife, and brought it with irresist- 
 able force upon the animal's hind leg, just above the 
 joint. The bone was instantly severed, and the tiger 
 effectually prevented from making a second spring. 
 The wounded beast roared ; but, turning suddenly 
 on the Coorg, who had by this time retired several 
 yards, advanced fiercely upon him, its wounded leg 
 hanging loose in the skin, showing that it was 
 broken. The tiger, now excited to a pitch of reck- 
 less rage, rushed forward upon its three legs towards 
 its adversary, who stood with his heavy knife up- 
 raised, calmly awaiting the encounter. As soon as 
 the savage creature was within his reach, he brought 
 down the ponderous weapon upon its head with a 
 force which nothing could resist, laid open the skull 
 from ear to ear, and the vanished foe lell dead at his 
 feet. He then coolly wiped the knife on the ani- 
 mal's hide, made a dignified salaam to the Rajah, 
 and retired amid the loud acclamations of the spec- 
 tators. His highness informed us that the man had 
 killed several tigers in a similar manner, and that, 
 although upon one or two occasions he had been 
 severely scratched, he had never been seriously 
 wounded. The Coorgs, moreover, are known often 
 to attack the animals in the jungles with their heavy, 
 sharp knives, and with almost unfailing success. 
 Upon the present occasion, nothing could excel the 
 cool, cautious, and calculating precision with which 
 the resolute Hindoo went through this performance.- 
 
 ToiiAcco IN Engiand. — It is assumed by British 
 statisticians that the yearly consumption of tobacco 
 in Great Britain and Ireland amounts to 56,000 tons 
 about one half of which, it is supposed, is smug- 
 gled.owing to the excessive duties — upwards of 1000 
 per cent.— levied on the article under the tariff sys- 
 tem of that kingdom. The quantities of cigars and 
 snuff imported does not exceed two or three hundred 
 weight per annum. 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 169 
 
 IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 THOMAS O'NEILL Puoprietob,. 
 
 MICIL'VEL J. WALSH ....... Conbuctor. 
 
 BOSTON, SATUKDAY, OCTOBER 23, 1858 
 
 TO OUR READERS. 
 
 Having become proprietor of the Miscellany, our 
 spare hours hitherto devoted to other matters wiU 
 henceforth be devoted to this paper, leaving noth- 
 ing undone to make it a universal favorite. We 
 will, in our next number, commence to publish se- 
 lections from a work now ready for the press, and 
 kept back expressly to allow of selections being 
 made for this paper. ' Reminiscenses of a Soldier' 
 will, we flatter ourselves, be of much interest to the 
 profession of arms, and be a welcome visitor at all 
 our forts, and cspeciallyin every soldier's hospital. It 
 will not discuss tactics nor systems of drill, but be 
 a record of incidents left upon memory while in 
 both the service of England and the United States. 
 It is dedicated to our honored and highly esteemed 
 friend. General James Shields. 
 
 At the request of many friends, both in the city 
 and country towns, we will have, in connection 
 with the Miscellany, an office for naturalization, 
 where our friends will find a young man on hand at 
 all times to aid them in securing the great right of 
 citizenship. The acceptance of this great right we 
 have always inculcated as a positive duty ; it is the 
 weapon in the hands of the adopted citizen by which 
 he nullifies the acts of his traducers, and proves his 
 love and allegiance to the Union and the Constitu- 
 tion. 
 
 The paper being a literary one, politics, although 
 not excluded, will not be discussed, save in defence 
 of and in relation to our people. As in a newspaper 
 there should be no religion, save a sterling defence 
 of th*^ right of freedom of conscience, so will we in- 
 terfere with none, although we may be found mourn- 
 ing over the ruins of our ancient cloisters. The 
 sorrow will not be without hope that the day of 
 vengeance and redemption may soon come. 
 
 Our every endeavor will be — to stick close to our 
 ' prospectus,' to make a paper which will win its 
 way to every Irish heart, to every Irish home, and, 
 in this endeavor, we solicit all our friends to aid us 
 in spreading the Miscellany. Mr. Walsh continues 
 to conduct the paper as usual, having our strictest 
 confidence. Thomas O'Neill. 
 
 JUST OVER THERE, ACROSS THE WAV. 
 
 We read, not lonsr since, a story of the adventutes 
 of an Irishman who left home to seek a fortune, 
 and found it. He would go to America, but he did 
 not know where it was. A friend whom he con- 
 sulted said to him : — 'Is it America you would see ? 
 Why, America is just over there, across the way !' 
 as if he were pointing toward a house on the op- 
 posite side of the street. 
 
 Yet this expression conveyed the result of a feel- 
 ing not new to Europeans and Americans. The 
 Atlantic was once an ocean ; now most people call 
 it a pond, a big pond, but still a pond. Boston 
 men, who wished to visit New York thirty or forty 
 years ago, would make their wills.and spend a week in 
 getting there. Now one can cross over to Ireland 
 in almost the same time. And the telegraph prom- 
 ised to complete the work of uniting the two conti- 
 nents. When the messages were exchanged, peo- 
 ple here began to think and speak of Europe as a 
 place 'just over there, across the way.' And so, on 
 both sides of the ' big pond,' the people called each 
 other neighbor. The feeling grew strong that two 
 men might shake hands across the Atlantic, or 
 throw a stone from shore to shore, as readily as they 
 could exchange messages within a few minutes by 
 the telegraphic wires. Nay, some dreamers thought 
 that they were not far ahead of their own times 
 
 when they dreamed that a man in Galway might 
 send to his friend in America a message, and receive 
 an answer, as follows : — 'Will you dine with me to- 
 morrow, in Galway ?' ' Yes, if you will breakfast 
 with me the next morning in Boston.' In a word 
 the feeling was, that man had achieved a signal 
 triumph over nature, which brought him nearer to 
 omnipotence — that he had annihilated time and 
 space. He had almost blotted the word space from 
 the dictionary already, by the discovery of the mo- 
 tive power of steam. He had more than annihil- 
 ated Time, so he said, because he could send at 
 three o'clock in the afternoon, from Galway, a mes- 
 sage to his friend at New Y'ork, and his message 
 would reach New York at eleven o'clock or so the 
 same morning. That is, counting by solar time, 
 the message would be received four hours before it 
 was sent. 
 
 This is the reason of the great rejoicings over the 
 stipposed success of the experiment of laying the 
 Atlantic cable, and of the intense disappointment so 
 generally felt when the news of its failure began 
 to be credited. The beginning puffed up men with 
 pride ; the end sorely wounded the self-complacency 
 of us, the lords of creation. Some men began to 
 think that there was some truth in the promise which 
 the serpent who wriggled into the garden of Eden, 
 as formidable a serpent, to say the least, as that now 
 wriggling uselessly across the Atlantic, made to our 
 first parents, when he said to them, ' Ye shall be as 
 Gods !' ' Pride goeth before destruction, and a 
 haughty spirit before a fall.' 
 
 Yet, we believe that this telegraphic experiment 
 will be repeated without stint of time, labor, and 
 money, until it succeed. We have assigned our 
 reasons for this belief in preceding numbers of the 
 Irish Miscellany. They may be summed up as fol- 
 lows : The god of our age, which is gold ; the spirit 
 of the age, which is to live fast ; the want of the 
 age, which is to shorten the distance between market 
 and market — to do, as nearly as may be, many 
 things at once, and be in many places at the san\e 
 time — and, finally, the aroused pride of this proud- 
 est of all proud ages, which finds itself suddenly 
 thwarted by that contemptible thing called nature — 
 all these causes are at work to overcome the obsta- 
 cles presented by the aforesaid impertinent nature 
 against our talking with a friend across the water 
 as freely, though at a little more cost, as we would 
 with a friend in the next room of our house. 
 
 It is true that many thoughtful persons are dis- 
 posed to doubt the ultimate succeess of the cable 
 experiment. Some of them say that it is like the pro- 
 ject of building the tower of Babel, whose top was 
 to reach the heavens, and which, in the event of a 
 new deluge, would afford to the people a means of 
 escape from death by drowning. That was their 
 plan for the annihilation of time and space. Now, 
 God, who so often does wondrous things through 
 the agency of natural causes, set unexpectedly in 
 motion, told Noah to build a ship. He taught him 
 how to build it ; the deluge came, and Noah was 
 saved. The men of Babel took counsel of their own 
 wits, and began to build a high tower, so high that 
 no flood could engulph it, and the Lord suddenly 
 destroyed their work. And so, say some men, the 
 cable experiment will never be an accomplished fact 
 of life. It is a defiance hurled at nature, and na- 
 ture, after all, is God working through secondary 
 causes. In laying this cable, man said, in the pride 
 of his heart, just as he said when he began to build 
 the tower, 'I will be like unto the most High !' 
 liesides, the ruling passions which would hold this 
 cable fast to both worlds are pride, avarice, and a 
 curiosity never at rest. So the experiment ought to 
 fail. 
 
 There is certainly some truth in all this. Never- 
 theless, for reasons already assigned, we believe 
 that the great sea-serpent will have his way, in the 
 long run, or wriggle. Moreover, there is a saying 
 as old as can be, that 'what man has done, man may 
 
 do.' You will find the proverb illustrated in the 
 preface to Colburn's Arithmetic, where the author 
 tells a good story about a school master and a boy 
 named Samuel. What man has done, man may 
 do. It is certain that the cable was successfully 
 laid. It is also true that messages were sent from 
 England to America, and from here to the old 
 world. It seems to be true that, even now, signals, 
 not intelligible ones, but, for all that, signals, pass 
 along the wires. They are unintelligible, because 
 too faint to make a mark, but they indicate the 
 wiry existence of the electric substance spanning 
 the ocean, with one foot on America and the other 
 upon Europe. 
 
 What man has done, man may do. There are 
 too many worldly interests at stake in this matter to 
 permit men to stand idle in the market-place when 
 there is work to be done. To say nothing of the 
 earnings of manufacturers, mechanics and laborers 
 employed in one way or another in the business, 
 there are in our days almost too many inventors 
 and scientific men, who want a name in the world 
 and plenty of money, and there are too many fool- 
 ish persons who have an abundance of cash, with 
 which they scarcely know what to do, and who are 
 very often induced to risk their fortunes in new and 
 promising schemes, and there are always to be 
 found men shrewd enough to step in at the fortu- 
 nate moment — just at the turning of the tide — and 
 reap the crop sowed by the foolish men who lost 
 their money because they did not know how, when, 
 or where to invest it. 
 
 The difficulties which lie in the way of our sea- 
 serpent may be reduced to three, we beliove. The 
 first is, the nature of electricity. It may be a real 
 substance; it may be a form, modification, or simple 
 action of some unknown cause or causes. Hence, 
 electricians do not always know what to do with 
 it, especially when its action be disturbed by storms 
 or other like phenomena. Until they have a toler- 
 ably accurate knowledge of its nature, they cannot 
 tell what they must do with it. Like the fisher- 
 man who hauled up a sealed bottle, they find that 
 they have uncorked an evil genius, strong and wick- 
 ed enough to destroy ten thousand innocent fisher- 
 men. 
 
 In the next place, the instruments hitherto used 
 do not work well. And, finally, the cable itself, 
 being sunk into the depths, must, of necessity, be 
 subject to accidents which no man can foresee. No 
 man that we know of, Jonah excepted, ever returned 
 from those depths, and the creatures of the deep 
 ocean tell no tales. Very possibly, many whales, 
 some thrashers, and a few swordfish, have already 
 mistaken our sea-serpent for a living creature, and 
 all four have ' squared off' for a fight. Besides, the 
 great and sharp inequalities of the bed of the ocean 
 — a patent spring bed — must be taken into account. 
 
 As far as regards the first difficulty, ;he commer- 
 cial world, which is chiefly interested in this cable 
 business, does not care whether electricity be a sub- 
 stance or a shadow, provided always that a shade of 
 profit may be east by if. It is quite enough on 
 this point to know that you in Ireland can send to 
 me in America a message and receive an answer 
 within an hour or so. 
 
 As to the second difficulty, inventors andimprov- 
 crs of inventions are in the field in swarms. Some 
 one of them mxist succeed. The man who makes 
 the cable work pretty well will have a salary equal 
 to that of the President of the United States. It is 
 needless to say that time, labor, skill, money and 
 brains will not be wanting in this gold- worshipping 
 age of ours to make the cable a perfect success, if 
 such a thing be possible. 
 
 So far as the third obstacle is concerned, the par- 
 ties interested must, of course, take their chance. 
 When a cable leaks, or when it is snapped or broken, 
 or otherwise injured, one of two things can always 
 be done, so long as the money lasts. The defect 
 may be repaired, or a new cable laid. 
 
170 
 
 IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 ^ Karn how tu mniiiilaoture. They l.iil ihc rounilaiiun 
 
 ENGLAND'S GARRISON AND IRELAND'S RE' 
 
 SOURCES. ' r k f 1- 1 
 
 Mr. I.evtr-8 umark» upon the great uiulcrlukiiig ' •" ""•' '^"i^"'" n)umil.iiiure»,Irclanil al.iin- suppressed 
 of steam oommunUalioii betwcui Irilai.d a.iU the i ''^ '"'""'"^' '""'' ''•"K'"'"'"--' '"""•■til- A.M l» lUU, that no 
 United States are well worUiv the eoMsideratioii of ! ™""'^> '" •''« »"""l'' '* »" geoj-raphiially located for a 
 
 all Irishmen. lie engages in it, after mature delib- 
 eration, aa a safe invescnient, which he hasi no doubt 
 will pay. Munehejiter manufacturers engage in it 
 
 grint inaraiinie nation, the hall'-ivay house, ai il were, 
 lictween Kiirope and the Amcriean enniincnc. Topo- 
 graphieiilly, ^Ireland surpawcs other eountries fur 
 
 because it is safer, shorter, and eventually the mueh i '"'"•""''ili'.v as a nation, scolloped all around will, a 
 better wav than shipment bv Liverpool. The noble- I " '"""»■"»' '"»' ■'''">' '""■'"'■■^ "'l'"l'l« of safely shel- 
 n,.... .„.i i,„.,L.,. „f v.. i..'i -.1 lernig the Briiish fleets. It was this unerrinL' fitness 
 
 men ana bankers ot r.nglan(i engage in it because ^ " 
 
 >(,»..).„.... \r ... V. , - ■ . . • ■ ""■ nutionaliiy whieh made Mr. Goold, in the Irish 
 
 tliey nave Manchester interests in view, or are in- ' ,, ,. , , . 
 
 , . ,,. . 1 -.1 .1. . •. ri- ■ .■ : 1 arliament, deeliire against the union, in his mcmor- 
 
 terestedly connected with that city of living maehin- ... , ,^ , . , 
 
 ,..,.,. . , , ■ , , ' '»'''<-• speech, where he said ;— ■ There are foriv thous- 
 
 cry. It IS likewise a new idea, which has success i , n ■ ■ . • , , , .... 
 
 , ■. 1 r 1 , ., and Briiish troops in Ireland, and, with lortv thousand 
 
 stamped upon it, and, for that reason, they wish to , , , . , ..• 
 
 , . , . .. , . , . , , .,, ,, ' liayoneis at my breast, iho minister shall not plant 
 
 be identibed with It ; they know it will eventually , o- -i ■ ■ l 
 
 , ,, . , , ., . , , "noiher bieily in ihe bosom of the Atlantic. 1 want 
 
 Eupereede all others as the great postal, freight and i . . ,. , ,, „ , 
 
 "^ ■= I > o ' not the assistance of divine inspiration to forete, for 1 
 
 passenger route to and from Kuropc. 
 
 But why, may we ask, is it that Irish capitalists 
 have not seen this matter and taken it in liand : Is 
 there none of the nobility of Ireland who.se estates 
 are not mortgaged • or is it they have not Ireland's 
 redemption at heart ? Were the moniedmen all out 
 fox-hunting when Mr. Lever was making his busi- 
 ness calculations ? Honestly, let it be out-spoken, 
 they arc not Ikish.ml.n ; they are a portion of the 
 English garrison in Ireland. Nobility, clergy, gen- 
 tlemen, and, down through the middle class to shop- 
 keeper — yea, from judge on the bench to tlic school- 
 master — every ramitication of place, pioperty, or 
 authority, from lord-lieutenant to bum baliif — 
 are liritish slaves, whose hearts beat not with a 
 patriotic pulse, nor a first love for native laud, and 
 are either absentees, spending the wealth of Ireland 
 upon the Continent, or gambling away their lives 
 and esiates in debauchery at home. Undersianding 
 these facts, ihe peasant, the mechanic, and farmer, all 
 that labor,in f.ict, must remeoiber that Ireland's redemp- 
 tion depends upon them. They must put their shoul- 
 der to the wheel, their bands to the plough, for the work 
 is at their own door. 
 
 Only think, that to an enterprising Englishman or 
 Yankee must the honest and patriuiie Irishman look 
 for ihe siarting of some real project for Ireland's bene- 
 fit, and then on the toilers ainungst her children the 
 Success must depend. To the class of soulless slaves 
 of whom we are writing, Ireland prosperous would 
 be obligation to work. Ireland free would be contisca- 
 lion or a debtor's prison. They are the drones, the 
 curse of the land, in whose nostrils honest invest- 
 ment in any noble enterprise would be too plebeian. 
 We know not which, the foxliuniing parson of the 
 Anglican church, the titled owner of an estaie encum- 
 bered beyond its value, the would-be aristocrat, or the 
 ' sixtcen-tumbler-of-whiskey-punch drinking-squireen.' 
 the would-be gentlemen of Ireland, arc its greatest 
 plagtie. It would be happy for the country if they 
 were all at the bottom of the Shannon. Happy- 
 land when a new infusion of ideas takes place, 
 honest enterprise, a love for labor and usefulness, self- 
 reliance, an elevated opinion of labor, and a burning 
 love for home, takes possession of the hitherto poor — 
 but proud and work-haiing — genteel loafers. 
 
 We were going to look into Dr. Kane's ' Industrial 
 Kecources of Ireland,' but must defer that fcr the pres- 
 ent. Suffice it to .-.ay, we will not contend for large 
 quantities ol the precious metals in Ireland, although, 
 undoubtedly, both gold and silver have been repcatcdiv 
 found there ; but we contend that she has an abund- 
 ance of coal and iron, although Kngland for many 
 years prevented the working of Irish mines, and Ire- 
 land bad to burn English coals and use English iron. 
 Coal and iron arc more valuable, we believe, than gold 
 or silver as deposits. 
 
 Ireland has two oilier recources, unsurpassed In value, 
 which no other country has in like comparisons ; these 
 are water power and labor. No country iu the world, 
 we unhesitatingly say, can equal Ireland tor the four 
 great resources above mentioned. 
 
 The Irish people are quick at learning mechanical 
 
 am enabled by the visible and unerring demonstration: 
 of nature to assert, that Ireland was destined to be a 
 free and independent nation. Our patent to be a stale, 
 not a shire, conies direct from heaven. The Almighty 
 has, in majcsiic characters, signed the great charier of 
 our independence. The great Creator of the world has 
 given our beloved country the gigantic outlines of a 
 kingdom. The God of nature never intended that Ire- 
 land should be a province, and, by G — d, sbc never 
 shall.' 
 
 Gold and place were effectual then ; gold and place 
 are erteciual now. Ireland's nobility reside in London 
 squares; her capitalists invest in English stocks. An 
 Englishman undertakes an enterprise frought with 
 new life to Ireland, yet Irishmen keep buck to see if it 
 will be successful. They could build a ' Thames 
 tunnel, ' or canal the Isthmus of ' Suez,' or ' Darien ;' 
 but they leave the patriot priest go to London to beg 
 from a Tory administration the loan of a paltry sum to 
 build a pier at Gahvay, which would facilitate and se- 
 cure successfully tl:is great undertaking. Workers, 
 laborers of Ireland ! see that nothing you can do will 
 be left undone to advance the interests of direct steam 
 communic ition with Ireland, and show that the old 
 land has abundance of resources, energy, and a will 
 10 work them; that, commercially as well as agricul- 
 turally, or in manufacturing capacity as well as posi- 
 tion, she commends herself to the world as a candidate 
 for perfect freedom, for di^tinct nationality. 
 
 The city council of Gahvay has voted £5000 for 
 building temporary warehouses to protect freight; 
 which may be detained for transmition. This is a step 
 in the right direction, and should be followed up by 
 building the pier. ' God helps them who help them- 
 selves.' Why not, gentlemen of Gahvay, incorpcrate 
 a copcration or wharf association ? Would it not be a 
 safe investment 1 Go ahead; we in the 'Great Re- 
 public' will take stock, if you but prove yourselves 'the 
 men for Gahvay.' Remember the story of the lark 
 and her young ones. * # # 
 
 The SonTiiKRN Citizen Prcmoted. — We are 
 glad to see our friend John Mitchell in the list of pro- 
 motions. John's star is rising. May it never set. In 
 his paper of October 7 he says he is going to Wash- 
 ington to be 'an organ of the administrntion, precisely 
 in so for as the administration shall be the organ of the 
 Constitution.' Whether the Southern Citizen is to be 
 merged into the Union, or in what his promotion con- 
 sists, we do not know. We suppose, however, he is 
 made ' Lauee Corporal,' and tlict the brevet is in his 
 own hand writing. He means mischief, if we can un- 
 derstand the following extract : — 
 
 ' This confederation has two great enemies — first, 
 the Uriiish government, and, second, the party of 
 k-and-whiie Republicans. At \Vasnington we 
 
 shall be on the theatre of action, where the secret plots 
 and open movements both of the • Anglo-Saxons ' and 
 the Abolitionists may be more narrowly watched, and 
 more promptly brought under the probe of public 
 opinion.' 
 
 We should not wonder if he issued his mandates 
 from the capiiol as well as from the capita., and that 
 Iho White House should be to him a garden of exotics. 
 
 ^ One thing we antii-ipate— some effective medicine for 
 and artistic occupation ; they are not surpassed as | ,he isms, which we may readminister for the cure of 
 tradesmen the world over. They have not now to 1 , he sickly sentimentality now aplague in New England 
 
 1 Written for the MlFcellsny ) 
 
 C ATOCT I N. 
 
 B V ' O 11 .\ N M o 11 i; . ' 
 
 Part Fourth. — The Delay House. 
 
 We behold a long verandah; several men, women 
 children, corpet-bngs, baskets, &c., leaning and 
 I hanging around the front door — just 'come off' one 
 I train, and waiting to presently 'go on' some other, 
 A Yankee clock pedlar is mending an odd look-, 
 ! ing time-])ieee, with wooden works, built into the 
 I frame of a looking-glass, in the space usually as- 
 I signed to an Italian scene, daubed on glass, in glar- 
 ! ing green, blue, yellow and red paint, laid on about 
 I as delicately as Thisbe's. 
 
 I The parlor of the Delay House is quite large; 
 but was intolerably warm, in consequence of being 
 I closed so carefully. This is, no doubt, to prevent 
 injury to the valuable oil portraits, the size of a 
 tea-place, hung all around the room at intervals of 
 three feet, by cords and tassels long enough and 
 strong enough to have hanged the originals, and 
 thus spared the world these vile copies. 
 
 There is a bcU-rope in the parlor, with a ring at- 
 tached. You can amuse yourself with it all day 
 long, endeavoring to ring in some one. When you 
 despair, you can do anything else with it the rope 
 may suggest. 
 
 A piano is there also. Oh, that as soon as we 
 had made this discovery, we had prosecuted our 
 explorations outside; anywhere elsewhere. Then 
 we would not have been per-secuted. 
 
 The two little Misses Devill came into the room, 
 (not in response to the ringing, being themselves 
 belles), and, deliberately surveying the company, 
 individually and collectively, advanced, horrible to 
 relate, in the direction of that 'infernal machine.' 
 
 Their skirts stood out like toad stools, as they 
 'made bandboxes' on the piano-siools, as close to- 
 gether as the starch would let them stick, and be- 
 gan to play. 
 
 It's a good thing for you, reader, that I can't 
 ■write music. 'Twould be a cruel, and a bad thing, 
 if I could and did write that. Who it was that 
 first 'found the plague-spot' of singing 'in their 
 hearts, and spread it,' I do not know; but 'one 
 more unfortunate' I have seldom met. Some one 
 asked them. The reply was, from the little Devill, 
 'We don't know any nice songs together.' 
 I took this for the announcement of a free par- 
 don, but I reckoned without my host — 's children. 
 We were all as nervous as Hamlet's uncle, from the 
 playing; so, the first song, 'Roll on. Silver Moon,' 
 arosCj rolled on, wa.\cd and waned, without re- 
 ducing us to confirmed lunacy. 
 
 Then they sang 'Auld Lang Syne," and 'Old Dog 
 Tray,' and 'Old Uncle Ned,' and 'Old Folks at 
 Home,' and 'Old Virginny never tire,' and a hun- 
 dred other old things, about old things, until we 
 tired, and, scorching hot as the sun was, left them 
 alone in their glory, and started for the Iron Works. 
 
 'Jfyoushould ever come to'— 
 not Modcna — Washington, and 
 
 '.Stop tor a nionieut at the 
 Delay House, as you inevitably must, you will, of 
 course, visit the Iron Works. Let me, then, advise 
 you not to take the railroad track, and 'halt,' like a 
 cripple, over that corduroy road, stumping your 
 patent leather pumps, or your lasting gaiters — as 
 though they were everlasting — against the sleepers, 
 with a violence suHicient to arouse and cause 
 to turn over any other than log sleepers, as they 
 are. 
 
 Choose rather the run-down path, to the shady 
 banks of the pleasant Patapsco. A path you would 
 be disposed to run down every day, yet ncvei think 
 the less of it. 
 
 But, as you stand on the brink of the hill, look- 
 ing at the obelisk in commemoration of the comple- 
 tion of the grand stone viaduct; extending in gran- 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 171 
 
 deur and grace, arch ntter arch, across the valley at 
 your feet, Mipposc, ere we pniceed up the river, we 
 go down upoi\ the wooden liridgi', at the base of 
 the viaduct, and 
 
 'See what Is not (olten) to be seen.' 
 
 AVhat a sublime span! What solid masonry! 
 What a perfect arch! Verily, there is nothing 
 Moorish more graceful, and the I'yramids are folly 
 compared to this solid, uscf.il structure. 
 
 Walk out further on the bridge, stopping at the 
 locked gate, which bars travel to all, but the vehi- 
 cles of subscribers, who are provided with keys. 
 Look above! How proud a bend, magnificently 
 framing in a charming scene. This is the central 
 arch, and through it what a vision of loveliness the 
 delighted eye surveys. A view such as might behed 
 from the groined, cathedral-arched window of mo- 
 nastic Vallambrosa. No Italian sky was ever so 
 'deeply, darkly, beautifully blue.' The fabled lock 
 of Berenice translated to the stars could not have 
 floated off more dreamily or mystically than yonder 
 Tapory streamers of cloud-land. Nor Catharine's 
 Palace of the Ice Queen have reared its glittering 
 domes and turrets so dazzlingly pure and majestic 
 as yonder bank of cumuli resting on the dark 
 wooded hill-top. 
 
 How gracefully the hills descend on all sides, to 
 lie at the feet of the wandering, inconstant Pataps- 
 co, each one seeing its own image in her bosom, as 
 she hurries away, the -nhile laughing carelessly, 
 their brows smiling in light to her, and frowning 
 in shadow at each other. 
 
 The smoke curling lazily into view, first in a col- 
 umn, then, broken into breakers, playing at hide- 
 and-seek among the tree tops, whence it came and 
 whither it goes, equally unperceived from this 
 point, adds its share of interest to the scene, as well 
 as does the mysterious distant sound of falling 
 ■water. Near to us, tilling out the base of the arch 
 to the right and left, with a strong foreground, lie 
 several bright green little islands, covered with un- 
 dergrowth and fallen trees, at picturesque inclina- 
 tions. The water-line, broken by others, uprooted 
 by floods and tempests and time-blackened, is there 
 arrested by the obstructions of the strtam. Many 
 gay flowers peer out, just where the picture needs 
 them. 
 
 Look at your watch, and find that we have passed 
 over an hour here, absorbed in the scene. Nor 
 have we failed to notice the valley to the east; its 
 brick village, that looks like a town in the distance, 
 separated from us by a pastoral scene of exceeding 
 beauty, made up of little islands, like those de- 
 scribed, and the coquetries of the Patapsco among 
 them; her shallow, rippling tide lazily stemmed by 
 sleek, prettily marked 'ruminating cattle,' chewing 
 the cud, to the sound of the occasional bell, tink- 
 ling drowsily in the still air. 
 
 As we move on, passing between the gate post 
 and the railing of the bridge — a space sufficient for 
 pedestrians only — we perceive that it is illustrated 
 with various amatory indications of the presence 
 here of young lovers, mindful of their absent sweet- 
 hearts and swains. Some initials and names carved 
 in the soft pine; others verses , &c., written in 
 pencil. 
 
 What marvel that this rude old structure, facing 
 such a scene, should be 
 
 'The bridge of sigbe? 
 
 We leave it with a sigh, that the days are gone — 
 
 'When first we san^j to woman's ear 
 Our soul-felt Hamc,' 
 
 or, if we may be fair, 
 
 'At every cloee we bluched to bear 
 The one loved name.' 
 
 And the hollew footfall on the timbers mingles 
 its last echo with the sound of gushing waters be- 
 neath, and time and tide go on as ever, and 
 Charon's boat makes many a return trip for weary 
 
 pilgrims, who have finally crossed the bridge of 
 sighs over the valley of tears. 
 
 Let us ne.\t climb those almost countless granite 
 steps, with iron railings, that lead to the level of 
 the road above us. It is, indeed, a task, and we 
 stop, and pant, and proceed, assisting our ascent by 
 clutching the rail, and laboriously working our way 
 to the top. 
 
 'Thank goodness!' After a long puff and a laugh, 
 and we have a bird's eye view of the scenery up 
 and down the Patapsco — with but one opinion still. 
 
 'Look out!' 
 
 We clear the track, keeping close to the east rail- 
 ing, when — 
 
 'First the sbrilJ whistle, then the distant roar, 
 
 The ascending cloud of steam, the gleaming brass, 
 
 The mighty, moving arm, and on amain 
 
 The mass comes tbundei-iug, like an avalancbe o'er 
 
 The quaking earth; a thousand faces pass — 
 
 A moment, and are gone, like whirlwind sprites, 
 
 Scarce seen, so much the roaring speed benights 
 
 All sense and recognition for a while; 
 
 A little space, a minute, and a mile!' 
 
 'Whew!' And the ladies shake their skirts, and 
 the gentlemen make* temporary dusters of white 
 handkerchiefs, shaken out of their folds for the pur- 
 pose, and next we accomplish the 'running down' 
 the hill essential to the 'winding up of this adven- 
 ture. 
 
 We are again on the banks of the Patapsco, and, 
 as we 'stroll along pleasantly, drinking the breeze 
 that ruffles the stream at our feet, and playfully 
 fillips the leaves overhead, we all turn, as though 
 by preconcert, on the disconcerted Doctor White- 
 head, and demand the previous question. 
 
 'And now, doctor, tell us why you failed to meet 
 us this morning?' 
 
 The amiable doctor, in imitation of rustic shame- 
 facedness, put up one hand to conceal his blushes,- 
 and, while his eyes humorously twinkled, peeped 
 between his extended fingers, and, with well affected 
 diffidence, replied, deprecatingly — 
 
 'Now, please don't ladies; one at a time, gentle- 
 men. Don't you condemn me unheard. Give me 
 time to collect my thoughts.' 
 
 'The doctor will give you reasons as plenty as 
 blackberries, if you give him time to gather them,' 
 said one of the ladies. 
 
 'Fie! fie!' expostulates the doctor. 
 
 'Come, right away! We must have them right 
 away, doctor.' 
 
 'Not on compulsion, ladies. You'll certainly 
 permit me to lean upon the solid precedent of the 
 gallant Falstaff.' 
 
 'Shall he. Jack?' asks the pleasant wife of our 
 friend. 
 
 'Jack to my familiars,' he replies. 'He may. 
 'Tis just like the clergy — always looking for a flat 
 preferment.' 
 
 And the laugh was at, and with the doctor, who 
 must have laughed best, as he laughed last and 
 heartiest. 
 
 'But — the reason?' 
 
 'Well, ladies; I had set my alarm clock at' — 
 
 'Dickeiy,dickery dock,' mutters Savage. 
 
 'Be still. Jack, please,' says Mrs. S. 
 
 Husband — assuming to have supposed his offence 
 had been inaudible — begs pardon, and retires within 
 himself. 
 
 •At half-past three o'clock,' resumes the doctor. 
 
 'A very short time you allowed yourself,' re- 
 marked my wife, placidly. 
 
 'I dislike anything sudden,' replies the doctor; 
 'and all the prayers of the church are against it.' 
 
 'How would you like a short wife?' submits Ver- 
 non. 
 
 'Mrs. Whitehead is tall,' says the doctor, at 
 length. 
 
 'Or a short sermon?' asks Oranmore. 
 
 'Mine are always short,' briefly responds his rev- 
 erence. 
 
 'The doctor is divided against himself,' proclaims 
 Vernon. 
 
 'Then I am not unlike all things sublunary,' re- 
 turns the doctor, philosophically. 
 
 'But the reason — the reason?' recurs the ques- 
 tion. 
 
 'The clock was set at half-past three, and I de- 
 pended on Mrs. Whitehead to call me when the 
 alarm rung. She heard it, but states that, but 
 half-awake, she failed to connect the sound with 
 the idea of my departure, and so — fell asleep again, 
 which I had not to take the trouble to do.' 
 
 'You would not have found it very difficult to 
 resume where you left off, would you, doctor?' 
 
 'No, madam,' composedly from his reverence. 
 
 'A very lame excuse, 1 call that," exclaims Sav- 
 age. 
 
 'Byron could not have made a better one,' said 
 the doctor. 
 
 'Or Pan escaped from the frying-pan more 
 Ambly.' 
 
 'To fall into the fire of your wit,' adds the doctor. 
 
 'More limpid than limping. The doctor is in his 
 element, and sees his way through clearly. 
 
 'Is it in hot water, you mean?' from Savage. 
 
 'No; we are throwing cold water over him, but 
 he is too wary to flounder in a net readily.' 
 
 'He is an odd fish — is it?' 
 
 'Without the coin in his pouch,' adds the doctor, 
 with mock gravity. 
 
 And here he laid himself open to various pleas- 
 antries. And we came within view of the dam 
 across the Patapsco. 
 
 'Why could they not combine the 'utile et 
 dulce?' ' remarks Vernon. Rocks, that are so 
 abundant hereabouts, might have been preferred to 
 those methodical logs that stem the current, and 
 they would have made a picturesque feature in the 
 landscape; besides detaining the 'store o' water' re- 
 quired above.' 
 
 'What is the beautiful to them? They wanted a 
 DAM, and that's all they cared about it,' explains 
 Oranmore. 
 
 'It is profanity,' solemnly enunciates Doctor 
 Whitehead, adding, to the great relief of the last 
 speaker, 'to mar so lovely a scene.' 
 
 By this time we have reached the door of the 
 Iron AVorks, whose chimney stack had been visible, 
 puffing the mysterious smoke before mentioned, 
 and the din of its machinery audible the greater 
 part of the way. 
 
 The Heakt of Napoleon. — When the body of 
 Napoleon was opened at St. Helena, his heart was 
 taken out, and,preparatory to its final destination, put 
 in a basin of spirits and water, and left for the night 
 on the table in the bed-room of the medical man who 
 had charge of the matter. In the course of the night, 
 the doctor was awakened from a light slumber by a 
 heavy splash from the basin, and starting up, alarmed, 
 he rested on his elbow, and by the light of the taper, 
 looked eagerly around the apartment before he should 
 spring from the bed. Not the shadow of an intruder 
 was to be seen. What had moved the basin ? H*d 
 that mighty heart, scorning to be quelled even by 
 death, regained some of its terrible energies ? Was it 
 still leaping with life ! Ha ! catjhing the appearance 
 of something moving in the room, he saw the heart of 
 Bonaparte going into a hole in the wall, and jumping 
 from bed, was just in time to seize and rescue it from 
 the teeth of a rat. 
 
 Henry Hunt, the famous demagogue, having been 
 brought up to receive sentence upon a conviction for 
 holding a seditious meeting, began his address in miti- 
 gation of punishment, by complaining of certain per- 
 sons who had acccuscd him of ' stirring up the people 
 by dangerous eloquence.' Lord Ellenborough replied, 
 in a very mild tone, ' My impartiality as a judge calls 
 upon mc to say, sir, that in accusing jou of that they 
 do you great injustice.' 
 
172 
 
 IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 [For the Irliib MlMcllanyl 
 THE lOENTITV OF THE IRISH LANCUACE 
 
 WITH THE ANCIENT PHCEN ICE AN O R CAR- 
 THAGINIAN. 
 
 Il is an acknowledged maxim among lln);uists that 
 if as many as M-vcn words be Tuuntl eommon lo two 
 languages, linvin;; in both the same sounds and signi- 
 licaiions, those hinguaKes must have had a common 
 ori(;in, wholly or in part. 
 
 According to this maxim, wc ran easily prove the 
 Irish language identical wiih the Carthat:inian. So 
 complctily (lid Rome crush ils great rival, Cirihage, 
 that but very little, oven of the lant;uage of [hat famed 
 and ill-fated nation, has been transniitt<'d to us; hut the 
 remnant, (houjjh small, and, of course, misspelled to 
 suit the liuman pronunciation, furnishes ample evi- 
 dence to the Irish scholar that the lan;;uage of Hanni- 
 bal's gallant cohorts was the source whence his native 
 tongue was derived. 
 
 The names of persons and places which iho Roman 
 :iistorians have handed down to us, though Romanised, 
 ^re plainer Iiish than Anglicii;cd Irish names now in 
 use, and though an English cardinal, while avowing 
 the truth of the maxim at the head of this communi- 
 cation, sneers at an Irish bishop for afirniing the iden- 
 tiiy of ihose languages, we cannot hut conclude that 
 »n unprejudicetl investigator will find the following 
 testimony sufficient to justify the assertion couched 
 under the heading of this ariide. 
 
 History concedes that the Philistines of Scripture, 
 who adond Baal, and the Phoenicians, were one peo- 
 ple. So the God of ihe Phoinicians was Baul. or Bhal, 
 or Bhail, as difl'crcnt historians may choose to spell it. 
 The Irish nnme of Mayday, La Bhailiune, (the day of 
 Bhailsfin ), is a siill standing record beat ing conclusive 
 testimony that Bhail was worshi|>pcd by the pagan 
 Irish; they were, therefore, Phoeniciiin, at least in re- 
 ligion. Bhail, besides being the name of the god of 
 the pagan Iri-h, expresses lo this day, in the Irish lan- 
 guage, the principle of good, also the principle of in- 
 crease or inulriplieaiion. This is evident in the phrases 
 Bhailorih, Bhailieach; the latter, meaning multiplica- 
 tion of houses, or many large or great houses, is now 
 Anglicised Baltimore. 
 
 Dhec is an Iri-h word meaning want, and is cm- 
 ployed a« a negative, as we employ less, in toothless, 
 penniless, &c. Dheebhail is spelled in Irish Dhibhail, 
 and is the present Irish word for evil or harm; also, 
 with only an additional letter, it is the Irish for devil, 
 and this compound word, literally godless, seems to 
 us to be the origin whence are derived the Latin dia- 
 bolus, and the Engli5h devil, both these words having 
 a compound form, yet when divided into their compo- 
 nent parts, those parts have no meaning in their re- 
 spective languages which would be at all applicable to 
 his Satanic majesty. 
 
 Bhail, then, biing the god of the Phoenicians and of 
 the Pagan Irish, and being also expressive of the prin- 
 ciple of goo<l, no wonder that it is found a component 
 part of Pha;nician and Irish names, Asdrubul, Hanni- 
 bal, Donabhal and Conabhal, the ancient spellings of 
 Donald and Connell. Car, another Irish word, mm-. 
 ing friendly love, the root of Caradhas— friendship.ca.- 
 thanaght— charily, we find in Pha'nician and in Irish 
 names, as in Hamilcar, Oscar. 
 
 Cathoir, the Irish name for city, is evidently a com- 
 poand word composed from cath — battle and foir, 
 defence, battle-fence — citadel. There still exists in 
 high preservation near Derrynanc Abbey, one of the 
 crignal citadels called at the present day Cathoir Don- 
 abhal, Donald's city. It is merely a large circular 
 space enclosed by a wall of rough stone, now so en- 
 crusted with white lichen as to resemble, at a distance, 
 a whitened fortification. 
 
 Catharngh is the genetive form of the noun, and 
 Carthage is probably a Roman corruption of the name. 
 This probability amonnts to almost a certainty, when 
 we consider the names of the three parts into which 
 the city was divided— Cothon, the port, Birsa, the aris- 
 tocratic portion of the city, and Meghara the suburbs. 
 The Irish word, co, means equal with,a fellow or mate, 
 also contiguous to, or side by side; and thon is a wave, 
 
 I a plain etymology ; besides, the word cothon is in 
 
 ! use at present in Irish, and mcons common, low, or 
 lewd. The commonality is called cothonihcact; a 
 
 I lewd woman bhan cothon — the port-woman, the mar- 
 iner's companion in every seaport ancient and modern. 
 Birsa is tolerable Latin for Bairstheac, the houses of 
 the headmen, and Meghara is plainlr the Irish word 
 still in use, Mughura, a field, a country, in contradis- 
 tinction lo a town. Nolo Anahhail in Irish would 
 mean great good. Axlrubhail would mean change or 
 removal, asdru having both significations. 
 
 Mr. Editor — Out o( the very scanty Carihaginian vo- 
 cabulary transmitted lo us, when wc find seven words 
 the same in sounds and significations with Irish words, 
 we have full authority to identify one language with 
 the other. Regietirg that your want of Irish type 
 compels the use of Saxon signs for Celtic words, I 
 conclude. Erinagii. 
 
 [Wc some day trust to he able to present our Celtic 
 friends with reading matter in a Celtic dross; but our 
 
 *learncd friend certainly knows the signs used in the 
 Engli-h hinguage at the present day, arc not Saxon 
 but Roman signs. Neither is the language Saxon, 
 there being, according to the best authorities, nearly 
 forty per cent other than of Saxon origin. — Ed. Irish 
 
 Ml8. 
 
 The Boomkuang. — The boomerang of the Austra- 
 lian savage is a puzzle, and even mathematicians can- 
 not comprehend the law of the action. It is a piece 
 of cured hard wood, in the form nearly of a parabola ; 
 it is from thirty to forty inches long, about three inches 
 broad, pointed both ends, the concave part a quarter of 
 an inch thick, and the convex edge quite sharp. The 
 mode of using it is as singular as is the weapon. Ask 
 a black to throw it so that it may fall at his feet, and 
 away goes the boomerang for forty yards before him, 
 skimming along the surface at three or four feet from 
 the ground, when it will suddenly rise into the air for 
 forty or sixty feet, describing a curve, and finally drop 
 at the feet of the thrower. During its course it re- 
 volves as on a pivot, with a whizzing sound. That so 
 barbarous a people should have invented a weapon of 
 this description, which civilization never contemplated, 
 nor can explain, is a wonder, setting the laws of pro- 
 jection at defiance. In the hands of an European, 
 even, it is as dangerous to the thrower as to the ob- 
 ject aimed at, for it may return and strike himself, 
 whilst, in the hands of a native, it is a most formida- 
 ble weapon, and is literally like the gun which will shoot 
 round the corner. The weapon, no doubt, originated 
 in kangaroo hunting, it being necessary that the ani- 
 mal should not see his assailant. It is, nevertheless, 
 struck down with unerring certainty, even though a 
 copse intervene; the boomerang comes round the cor- 
 ner and breaks his legs. 
 
 CuKious Facts about Alugators. — Alligators' 
 nests resemble haycocks. They arc four feet high, 
 and five in diameter at their base, being constructed 
 of R-a~^ and herbage. First, they deposit one layer 
 of egg- on a layer of mortar, and having covered 
 this with a stratum of mud and herbage, eight inches 
 thick, lay another set of eggs upon that, and so on 
 to the top, there being commonly from one to two 
 hundred eggs in a nest. With their tails they beat 
 down round the nest the dense grass and reeds five 
 feet high, to prevent the approach of unseen ene- 
 mies. The female watches her eggs until they are 
 all hatched by the heat of the sun, and then takes 
 her brood under her own care, defending them and 
 providing for their subsistence. Dr. Lutzenburg, 
 of New Orleans, told me that he once packed up 
 one of the nests with eggs, in a box, for the Museum 
 of St. Petersburg, but was recommended before he 
 closed it to see that there was no danger of the eggs 
 being hatched on the voyage. On opening one a 
 young alligator walked out, and -was soon followed 
 by the rest, about a hundred, which he fed in his 
 house, where they went up and down stairs, whin- 
 ing and barking like young puppies. — [Lycll, the 
 Geologist. 
 
 FOREIGN INTELLIGENCE. 
 
 IKKLANI). 
 
 Irismme.n vs. Scotchmen. — The following para- 
 graph, extracted from that ' repertos riuni ' of lead- 
 ing articles, the Saturday lleview.hah found willing 
 admission to tlie columns of many English news- 
 papers. The narrow, envious spirit which dictates 
 the common postscript to an English advertisuincnt, 
 ' No Irish need apply,' is conspicuous in every line 
 of this precious farrago : — 
 
 'What is at present the result of rceruting the In- 
 dian civil .service by competition instead of nomina- 
 tion : Simply this. We are substituting Irishmen 
 for Scotchmen in the civil government of India. 
 Englishmen, who are impartial .'judges of the ques- 
 tion, may be allowed to ask whether the empire 
 gains by the exchange. There are some points of 
 national character in which Scotch and Irish agree. 
 They are equally noted at home for their local pat- 
 riotism and theii" narrow religious prejudices. Are 
 they then equally unfit to govern a strange country 
 and to deal with men of a strange faith ? The an- 
 swer must certainly be in the negative, as regards 
 Scotchmen. It is one of their oldest peculiarities 
 that, separated from their blessed n'ltive land, they 
 become the most cosmopolitan of human beings. A 
 Scotchman in India puts his nationality and his 
 Calvinism in his pocket, and no more thinks of ob- 
 truding his home habits on the native than of forc- 
 ing fakeers to dilute their Ganges water with whis- 
 key, or to sing Burns to an accompaniment of tomb- 
 tombs. As a fact, the Europeans who have most un- 
 derstood the natives,and have most sympathised with 
 them, and won most of their confidence, have been 
 .Scotchmen. When, then, we insist on substituting 
 Irishmen for them, it is a fair question whether the 
 favored race is distinguished by the fair characteris- 
 tics. Is it or is it not true that an Irishman is the 
 same everywhere — in New York as in Tipperary, in 
 San Francisco as in Dublin ■ Is it or it is not true 
 that he carries his religious prejudices everywhere, 
 that he can always be mastered by any one adioit 
 enough to use them, and that he is everywhere anx- 
 ious to secure their ascendency ! If this be true of 
 him, .t is not much to the purpose that the new Irish 
 civilian will be a universal genius at twenty, while 
 his Scottish predecessor was a long-legged and at 
 first ignorant animal, who generally developed 
 slowly, and rarely found all his wits till he was 
 close upon thirty. 
 
 It is not true that the result of the system ofcom- 
 petivc examination for appointments in the Indian 
 civil service is ' simply the substituting of Irishmen 
 for Scotchmen.' The real result is the recognition 
 of merit and knowledge as a better qualification for 
 office than the possession of hungry patronage, and 
 the substitution of educated and well-bred gentle- 
 men for mere dunces of quality. If, in competing 
 for Indian appointments. Irishmen are more suc- 
 cessful than their Scotch or English antagonistic — 
 and we are proud to say that such is the case — their 
 success is richly deserved, because it is owing to 
 their superior abilities and industry. 
 
 Nothing can be more indicative of innate mean- 
 ness of mind than this attempt to bolster up the an- 
 tiquated and corrupt system of patronage and inter- 
 est by evoking anti-national prepossessions and dis- 
 likes. It is new to us to hear Irishmen designated 
 as a ' favored race.' When were they favored ": or 
 who ' insists on substituting Irishmen for Scotch- 
 men ?' The public insists on having the most com- 
 petent and the best educated men in public situa- 
 tions, regardless of the accidint of their birth. 
 
 Irishmen have, in many instances, proved them- 
 selves worthy of a preference to English and Scotch 
 competitors. But why not freely acknowledge this 
 fact ? A^Tiy should a respectable journal pander to 
 the ignoble prejudices of disappointed place-seekers 
 and their compatriots r It is always better to en- 
 courage emulation than to stimulate envy. ' Emu- 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 173 
 
 lation looks out for merits, that she may exhnlt her- 
 self by a victory. Envy spies out blemishes, that 
 she may lower another by defeat.' The writer in 
 the Saturday lleview adopts the tactics of envy, 
 and, by sneers and insinuations, endeavors to dis- 
 parage the characteristics of Irishmen. But we 
 trust he will find that so pitiful a mode of warfare 
 win meet with its deserts among his own country- 
 men. — [Mail. 
 
 The Mechanics' Institote. — The President of 
 this excellent institution has received the following 
 letter from William Smith O'Brien, Esq., in reply 
 to a solicitation to deliver a lecture to the mem- 
 bers : — 
 
 Cahermoyle, Newcastle (West), Sept. 18, 1858. 
 
 Sir — Upon my return to Cahermoyle, I have found 
 your letter, in which you communicate a wish of the 
 members of the Limerick Mechai.ics' In.-tiiuie that I 
 should deliver a lecture to them. I fear that I cannot 
 at present make any engagement of this kind, as I 
 have promised to deliver an address 'o the meehatiies 
 of Dublin, and since variuus circumstances have pre- 
 vented me from accomplishing the promise (which was 
 made last year), they would naturally feel hurt if I 
 were to postpone their claim to that uf any other body 
 of men. 
 
 The mechanics of Ennis have also elicited from me 
 a qualilied engagement, which would naturally take 
 precedence of any other. 
 
 It alToids me much gratitication to find that the lec- 
 ture which I delivered last winter at the AthenaBum to 
 the mechanics of Limerick and others has met with 
 general approval. I understand that some gentlemen 
 who are connected with the city of Limerick intend to 
 publish it, along with my address to the people of Ire- 
 land, thus realizing the wish which you expressed in 
 a former letter for its publication in a permanent 
 form. 
 
 It has also given me much pleasure to learn from 
 the newspapers that iVIr. Monsell and Mr. De Vere 
 are disposed to deliver addresses to the mechanics of 
 Limerick. It is probable that other gentlemen con- 
 nected with the city of Limerick and Clare would, if 
 solicited, make a similar engagement. 
 
 It is desirable that the members of the Athenajum 
 and of the Mechanics' Institute should secure the de- 
 livery of a course of lectures by one of the public lec- 
 turers who are sent on circuit by the government, or 
 by the Dublin Society. I would especially recommend 
 yott to endeavor to obtain a course of lectures on 
 Chemistry from Dr. W. K. Sullivan, who, in regard 
 to scientific acquirements, is one of the ablest men in 
 Ireland. I have the honor to be, your obedient ser- 
 vant, William S. O'Eriest. 
 Mr. Michael O'Kegan, President of the Congregated 
 Trades. 
 
 Coast Defences The British government is 
 
 very busy erecting defences in various places on the 
 coast of England, and making some little improve- 
 ments in the few that exist on the coast of Ireland. 
 The best coast defence that could be given to Ire- 
 land would be a good tenant right measure; with- 
 out it, England may be sure this country 'is but 
 naked though locked up in steel." The government, 
 however, seems to place its reliance on Cair.den and 
 Carlisle forts and the Pigeon-house, a few guns on 
 the pier at Kingstown, and two or three ruined bat- 
 teries in Bantry Bay; but as these are manifestly 
 insuiBcient for the protection of the country, we 
 very decidedly advise the people to be making pre- 
 parations to proiect themselves. This is to be done 
 loyally and peaceaoly, by purchasing serviceable 
 weapons, fire-arms particularly, and making them- 
 selves acquainted with the use of them. Even 
 should those articles never be required, no one will 
 ever regret what they cost.' It degrades no man, 
 but, on the contrary, it elevates every man consid- 
 erably, in his own eyes and the eyes of others, to 
 know how to handle and to have in his possession 
 a lound and serviceable tire-arm. — [Nation. 
 
 The Habvest, &c., in Ireland. — Later reports ] 
 from the provinces show that the thunder and rain 
 storms of last Thursday and Friday were far more 
 severe and likely to be productive of more mischief 
 than was expected from the tone of the first ac- 
 counts. In Galway and Limerick the fall of rain 
 was more quite out of the common course; it was 
 more like the bursting of a water-spout, the flood 
 rising to the height of three feet on some roads. In 
 Galway two bridges were entirely carried away, 
 and Biancon's car, from Clifden, was well nigh 
 swamped in the rush of waters. The thunder storm 
 was ubiquitous, but its chief fury seems to have 
 been spent on the Wexford coast. Nothing ap- 
 proaching to it in violence has been witnessed since 
 June, 1822. In the north the alarm cry has been 
 again raised wirh regard to the potato crop, the 
 condition of which is said to have undergone an. 
 unmistakable change for the worse towards the end 
 of last week. It is, however, admitted that the vast 
 yield of this season must dissipate all idea of scarc- 
 ity, even supposing the blight to prove more exten- 
 sive than that of 18.57. — [Nation. 
 
 Two of the directors of the Irish Mining Com- 
 pany, accompanied by Sir Robert Kane, visited 
 Knockmahon a few days since, with a view to 
 further extensions of their undertaking, which now 
 employ such a large number of persons. Further 
 experiments are being made on Colonel Beresford's 
 property, near Stradbally, for copper ore, which 
 will, we trust, develope a profitable lode. The 
 preliminary operations -on Lord Stuart de Decie's 
 property at Slievegrine are proceeding. A tramway 
 and tunnel, which will top the side of the moun- 
 tain, are in course of construction, and as it will 
 save the expense of raising the ore to the top of the 
 mountain, and also be available for draining, it 
 seems calculated to effect the profitable working of 
 this mine. The specimens which have been tested 
 promise a very large return, and we hope this prom- 
 ise will be fully realized. — [Waterford Mail. 
 
 The Linen Trade. — The increase of orders in 
 the hands of the more e.xtensive firms in the white 
 goods trade has caused additional enterprise in the 
 finishing department. All bleach fields in the vi- 
 cinity of Belfast are in full work, and several are 
 obliged to employ extra hands to meet the require- 
 ments of clients on the other side of the Atlantic. 
 Cuba promises to a very extensive trade in the na- 
 tional staple, and the Brazils are taking large quan- 
 tities of medium and low-priced commodities. 
 Canada shows only a small amount of business, 
 but a great pro'portion of the trade with that col- 
 ony is carried on across the frontier, and conse- 
 quently goes to the accouut of the United States 
 
 [Banner of Ulster. 
 
 ExFORTATioN OP Cattle. — It is often a matter of 
 wonder to many where all the cattle come from that 
 are exported from time to time, and, no doubt, the 
 same remark is equally applicable to every other 
 Irish seaport. Without following the inquiry 
 further, it is enough to know that a great trade in 
 the exportation of cattle is daily going on between 
 Belfast and England and Scotland. Fat stock, 
 milch stock, and young stock are constantly shipped 
 here, and we are within the mark, we are sure, 
 when we say that from 1800 to 2000 head of cattle 
 leave our port weekly. Last Friday night, for in- 
 stance, one steamer alone, for Morecambe, took 
 away upwards of 200 head of young stock. — [Belfast 
 Mercury. 
 
 Ireland to Newfoundland in Six Days. — Gal- 
 way, Wednesday. The steamer Prope ler, Captain 
 Thatcher, from St. John's, Newfoundland, arrived 
 at 10 A. M , this morning, making the passage in a 
 little over six days, having left St. Johns on the 
 night of the 22d inst., and bringing news to that 
 date, which is now on the way to Dublin, the pas- 
 sage from port to port being 165 hours. 
 
 In the various shipyards of Belfast there are three 
 vessels almost ready for launching, all of them of 
 large tonnage, namely, a clipper Indiaman of 1400 
 tons, built by the Belfast Ship-building Company, 
 Queen's Island; an iron clipper Indiaman of 1000 
 tons, on Messrs. Hickson & Co.'s slip; and a clip- 
 per barque of 500 tons, in Messrs. M'Laine & Son's 
 yard. Mr. A. Cornell has also a neat schooner in 
 a forward state. — [Belfast Mercury. 
 
 INDIA. 
 
 Hostilites are still a foot in India. The latest tele- 
 grams bring the news that the Gwnlior rebels have 
 captured and plundered the town of Japra P.iteen (as 
 the name is printc il) and sent the pro-British Rana fly- 
 ing to the English camp for safety. They were en- 
 trenching and fortifying the place when the despatches 
 left. The fort of Poeuree, after having been shelled 
 for thirty hours surrendered to one of the Biitish gen- 
 erals. MacMuUen — some Irishman who ought to be 
 doing belter business than slaughtering the natives of 
 India for England's pleasure or advantage — met, we 
 are told, with the rebels at a certain village, and with 
 his Sikhs, drove them out, killing and wounding sixty. 
 Captain Dennehy, with a party of military police, dis- 
 tinguished himself in a, similar manner at Bearrah 
 (there is a Bearra in Irel.md, too, where brave men fell 
 fighting against the dominion of England, and where 
 bad Irishmen fought in the ranks of the invaders). 
 Adil Mahomed has taken possession of Poorassa and 
 threatened Bhalsa and Giijerat. Two of the disarmed 
 Sepoy regiments have broken into open rebellion, and 
 endeavi red to seize the guns of some English regi- 
 ments. Four of the British soldiers and one captain 
 were killed in the melee Peace, therefore, in India 
 there is none, the struggle is still going on, but unless 
 it assumes larger dimensions, immediate success is out 
 of the question. We are well aware that a continu- 
 ance of even the present state of affairs would be ruin- 
 ous to England ; we know that such a drain of blood 
 and money as is at present going on would, in the 
 course of some time, exhaust the strength of the fili- 
 busttrs ; but the liberation of the country rai^ht be 
 accomplished in a day by the union of its people. 
 The lesson has a moral for the world. 
 
 A son of the King of Cambodia, one of the divis- 
 ions of Anam, has been converted to the Church of 
 Rome. The Manchester Guardian says : — ' That an 
 Eastern Prince should have been induced by his 
 servants to abjure Paganism is, therefore, a signal 
 victory for the church of Rome; while, at the same 
 time, it shows how strong is the influence which 
 western civilization is beginning to exercise in those 
 countries from which it has till now been e.xcluded. 
 One cannot but think that the comparative success 
 of Catholic missionaries, ol which this conversion 
 is a striking instance, ought to teach our Protestant 
 churches to make better choice of instruments in 
 the work of converting the heathen. It is pleasant 
 to rail at the Jesuits, but certainly the thorough 
 training in the act of governing mankind by means 
 of superior knowledge, which the disciples of Loyola 
 undergo, fits them to encounter and overcome the 
 difficulties of a missionary life. Now, although 
 there are many Protestant missionaries who are by 
 no means obnoxious to the reproach that they have 
 undertaken a work to which they are unequal, yet, 
 as a body, they appear to command less respect than 
 is paid to their Catholic rivals. The only Catholic 
 monarch who has any influence in the east is the 
 Emperor of the French, and to him the missio._arie3 
 of China and Cochin China look for support and 
 countenance.* 
 
 Additional despatches from India state that four 
 native regiments, which had been disarimd as a pre- 
 caution, broke out in mutiny near Kurrachee, and en- 
 dcavond to seize the guns and arms of the Royal Fu- 
 sileeis. They were repulsed with slaughter. The 
 rebels were also moving in a menaiing manner in 
 other portions of the Bombay Presidency, and impor- 
 tant results mtiy soon be expected. 
 
174 
 
 IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 A RAMBLE IN THE COUNTY WICKLOW. 
 
 There are no persons whose ereduality is so iiiueh 
 taxed as tiavelU-rs and tourists ; their swallows 
 ahould be as rapacious as their purses, for really 
 there is a perpetual drain upon both one and the 
 other. I have been forcibly reminded of this truth 
 during the pa^t week, upon vi-iting the Vale of 
 Avoca and Si\-en Churches in tile County M'icklow. 
 At the fonner, a car-driver undertook to paint the 
 identical spot whence Tommy Moore viewed and 
 described the Meeting of the Waters half a century 
 ago, a question which can be easily decided by re- 
 ference to the 7th volume of his memoirs and jour- 
 nal, edited by Lord John Kussell — pages 10!) and 
 yei — from which it is quite obvious he did not write 
 a line there, and wishes to leave the mutter in the 
 mystery best suited to such discussions, lie quaintly 
 iMiys himself he ' should tind it\ery hard to substan- 
 tiate when, where, or how he wrote the ballad at 
 all." They went so far at one time as to say he pre- 
 sented the original copy fresh from the mint of in- 
 spiration to the landlady at the inn at the foot of 
 the vale, which is too good a story to spoil ; but 
 really, to behold sensible persons pulling twigs and 
 saplings as reminiscences of their researches on 
 the spot is green in the extreme. On this route the 
 tide of imposition does not completely set in until 
 you come to ' the Churches,' where you are immed- 
 iately surrounded by the guides, whom the proprie- 
 tor of the hotel would do well to separate from his 
 establishment ; for so ill-looking a group you would 
 not meet in a day's march, and assuredly should not 
 trust yourself to the pilotage on "that lake whose 
 gloomy shores,' Jic., unless you have a desire to be 
 fleeced and deceived by the moat monstrous legends. 
 The visitor's note book in the coffee-room makes 
 anything but honorable mention of their offices. — 
 Jordan's hotel is a comfortable and well aired one to 
 stop at, and is much frequented atthisSeason of the 
 year; but on getting rid of the guides, it would be 
 well he made up to some gentlemen of the fourth 
 estate, as there is not a newspaper in his house. He i 
 might as well be without a bed. 
 
 The new Catholic Church of Glendnlough, situate 
 on an eminence, is a prominent object of interest and 
 attention for the tourist. During three centuriis, 
 this vale, where once flourished a famous seminary, 
 which concentrated a great portion of the learning i 
 of the times, and where j 
 
 lu yon field below, 
 A thousand years of sileuced factions sleep, 
 
 each recurring anniversary festival of the saint, 
 whose memory is inscperably connected with the 
 locality, presented but a scene of wild revelry and 
 the grossest dissipation. Some years since, how- 
 ever, the Catholic administrator of the parish wish- j 
 cd, as far as was in his power, to rescue so venerable I 
 and holy a place from such abominable desecration, | 
 and as a step towards so desirable an object, restored ' 
 one of the ancient churches to its original use, ' 
 wherein he celebrated Mass on all Sundays and 
 church holidays, until the Protestant authorities, , 
 to whom the ground of building belong, forbade the 
 rites and the occupation of the little ancient church 
 for such purposes. This circumstance again reduced 
 the numerous Catholic population of the district to 
 travel several miles to receive the consolations and 
 attend the services of their religion. How true it 
 was of Cardinal Wiseman, in his farewell sermon at 
 Weslland-row, to have said that — ' Of all countries 
 in the world Ireland, was the last in which Protest- j 
 antism should dare to profess an interest in the 
 spiritual or temporal welfare of the people, and if it 
 did 30 now, it was for the most scllish and wicked of 
 purposes.' 
 
 The unfortunate state of affairs, however, to which 
 I have above alluded, was very soon after remedied 
 in the most gratifying manner,through the liberality 
 of a gentleman in the neighborhood. Captain Hugo, 
 who granted a site, rent free, for a new chnrch, the 
 
 first stone of which was laid the 3d of June, l8tG. I 
 The cdiflcc is certainly a noble one, consisting of an 
 exceedingly well proportioned chancel for the ceic- i 
 bratton of the sacred mysteries, and a very ample i 
 nave for the reception of its mountain congregation, i 
 The roof is extremely high in pitch, with timbers i 
 exposed, planed and chamfered to the angles, thus i 
 decorating the essential construction, and not con- ' 
 cealing it by plastfred ceiling. The side walls are | 
 pierced by long narrow lancet windows, exteriorly I 
 Hanked by buttresses of bold projection, the struc- I 
 tural value of which is to counteract the pressure of 
 the roof, while they ornament the outward appear- I 
 ance of the building by reli.-ving the flat surface of '■ 
 the walls. An appropriate sacristy is on the north i 
 side of the chancel, and a belfry of simple design, { 
 surmounted by an antique Irish cross, crowns the 
 western gable, underneath which is the principal 
 entrance door, with jambed shafts and characteristic 
 archvault mouldings. 
 
 The sie of Glendalough was established about the 
 middle of the si.xth century, and its first bishop was 
 St. Bevin, who, however, resigned the high office and 
 retired into a monastery some years before his death, 
 which did not occur until 618, and at the advanced 
 age of one hundred and twenty. The see of Dublin, 
 to which Glendalough was made suffragan, was not 
 created until nearly the middle of the seventh cen- 
 tury, and had l.ivinus for its bishop. The see of 
 Glendalough, after the resignation of St. Kevin, 
 continued under a regular succession of bishops to 
 flourish for nearly six centuries, when, on the death 
 of William Piro, in 1214, it was united to the see of 
 Dublin, at the suggestion of Cardinal Papare, the 
 Pope's legate. The union of the two sees was fully 
 contirmed by a bull of Pope Honorius III. in 121G. 
 
 The fact of Glendalough ever having been a 
 bishop's see is proof of it's having been a consider- 
 able town or city, for 'territorial' titles have never 
 been given to the episcopal jurisdictions of the 
 Catholic church. This, however, is not always the 
 case with the Protestant episcopacy, for in Van 
 Diemen's Land the Angelican bishop takes the title 
 of Tasmania from the territory, while the Catholic 
 derives his of Uobarttown, from the town. The 
 creation of a bishopric has at all times been the ex- 
 clusive province of the Pope ; the nomination or 
 appointment of the bishop in another matter alto- 
 gether, but is subject, nevertheless, to the ratifica- 
 tion of his Holiness, whose apostolic mandate must 
 be produced for the consecration of the bishop elect 
 ere it can be proceeded with. 
 
 In 1398, the city of Glendalough was completely 
 burned by the English forces, who reduced it to a 
 heap of scattered ruins, which even to this time im- 
 part a hallowed appearance to the part of the valley 
 in which they arc situated. — [Cath. Telegraph. 
 
 Blvth's Focr-WheelI'D Steasier — The Imperial 
 Danuliian Steam Navigation Company, which enjoys 
 the exclusive privilege of navigating llie Danube and 
 its tributaries, by virtue of a grant from the Austrian 
 government, have recently placed on that great river a 
 novelly-constructed sti:amer of very light draught, for 
 the purpose of overcoming a very great natural obstacle 
 to the navigation. Between Moldova and Orsova the 
 river narrows considerably, and rushes wiih fearful vio- 
 lence over a ledge of rocks, a circumstance which has 
 hiiheno obliged the company to disembark the passen- 
 gers and goods, and convey them by land to a spot 
 below the rapid, where they were re-embarked, the 
 vessel itself being tossed about in a frightful manner. 
 To overcome this difficulty, the company have had 
 constructed, by Messrs. Blyth, of Limehouse, a steamer 
 drawing only 12 1-2 inches, wich iwo pairs of paddle- 
 nhccls, and otherwise peculiarly constructed, with a 
 view to lightness and strent.th combined. The suc- 
 cess of the experiment has been complete; she went 
 0%'er the dangerous spot in a straight line, steered easi- 
 Iv, and was not at all disturbed by the violence of the 
 foaming waters over which she had to pass. 
 
 VARIOUS ITEMS. 
 
 WuY i» a philanthropist like an old horse ? Be- 
 cause he always stops at the sound of wo. 
 
 If petticoat government is not more oppicssive 
 now than formerly, it is certainly double in ex- 
 tent. 
 
 • I've three cent's left,' said a loafer, ' so I will 
 buy a paper with it.' 'What paper?' 'A paper 
 of tobacco,' n plied the loafer. 
 
 A celebrated actress, whose fresh smile and sil- 
 very voice favored the deception, always called her- 
 self sweet ' sixteen,' She staled her ago at six- 
 teen in a court-room as a witness. Her son was 
 directly afterwards placed on the stand, and asked 
 how old he was. ' Six months older than mother,' 
 was the honest reply. 
 
 In the street of Leicester, one day. Dean Swift 
 was accosted by a drunken weaver, who, staggering 
 against his reverence, said, * I have been spinning 
 it out.' 'Yes,' said Dean, 'I sec you have, and 
 now you are reeling it home.' 
 
 A PitiKsT was called upon to pray over the bar- 
 ren fields of his parishoners. Ho passed from one 
 enclosure to the other, and pronounced his benedic- 
 tion, until he came to a most unpromising case. 
 He surveyed its sterile acres in de.«pair. ' Ah !' 
 said he, ' brethren — no use to pray here — this needs 
 manure!' 
 
 Douglas Jekjiold calls woman's arms 'the ser- 
 pents that wind about a man's neck, killing his 
 best resolutions.' 
 
 One of our countrymen, who had been reading, 
 in the morning paper the di^patch from the 'relable 
 gentleman at St. John's, who is in a position to ob- 
 tain the earliest and most correct unoflicial intelli- 
 gence concerning the cable,' was overheard to ob- 
 serve to his comrade : — 'Honey, do you hear that? 
 All the intelligence comes this way, and domned 
 the ha porth will go beck. They needn't worrit 
 themselves about recording insthruments and the 
 signals. Nothing that conies from England on'st 
 to Ameriky will ever go back.' 
 
 A FuENCuMAN built a four story brick house, 
 adjoining his Dutch neighbor's two-story house. 
 Being on the roofs of their respective houses one 
 day, the one on the low house cries out to the 
 other : — ' What for you build so high up dare ?' To 
 which the Frenchman replied : ' De ground bees 
 very cheap up here.' 
 
 A SERVANT girl, on leaving her place, was accost- 
 ed by her master as to her reason for leaving. 
 ' Mistress is so quick tempered that I cannot live 
 with her,' sold the girl. 'Well,' said the gentle- 
 man, ' vou knew it is no sooner begun than it is 
 over.' ' Yes, sir, and no sooner over than begun 
 again.' 
 
 An editor of Iowa has be.n fined two hundred 
 and fifty dollars for hugging a girl in meeting. 
 ' Cheap enough !' says another of the fraternity ; 
 we once hugged a girl in meeting,and it has cost us 
 a thousand a year ever since.' 
 
 A QUEER genius being ask°d why he did not attend 
 the funeral of his wife, replied ' That he could not 
 leave his shop, and that it was bettor to attend to busi- 
 ness before pleasure.' 
 
 Bklievk misfortune quickly. A man is like an 
 
 egg iht longer he is kept in hot water, the harder he 
 
 is when taken out. 
 
 EriTAPH of a woman struck by lightning — She died 
 of thunder sent from heaven. In 1777. 
 
 A OESTLESiAN, at a tea-party, overhearing one lady 
 say to another, ' I have something for your private 
 car,' immediatily exclaiflitd, 'I protest against that, 
 for there is a law against privateering.' 
 
 • I woDt.D do anything to gratify you, I would go to 
 the end of the world to please you.' said a fervent lover 
 to the object of his atleciions. ' Well, sir, go there 
 and slay, and I shall be pleased.' 
 
 J 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 175 
 
 ADVERTISEMENT S. 
 
 MERCANTILE AND WRITING SCHOOL, 
 
 E. J. GLEESON, Masteh. 
 
 This Scliool is now opeiiecl nt No. 23 Portlanp Stkeet, 
 11 a-w iloorssoutli of Doolcy's Exohiiuge Hold, nlioie il 
 st-lfCt »iiU limited number of tlic Yoiitli of boHi Bexes will 
 be lulmittcd; time IVom9 A. M. to 12 U., nud from 2 V. SI 
 
 to 5 1". M. 
 
 TERHIS MnDEKATE. 
 
 EVENING SCHOOL! 
 
 This fchool will he o|ieiieil in llio i-!iine pliice on the first 
 evcuinj; of next mouth, wliere iiiliilts and those of riper 
 years, will bo carefully and assiduously instructed in the 
 various brauchts of learuiuy, suitable to their calling. 
 
 BOOK-KElsriXU : 
 
 Jtr. Gleeson ventures to say, and pledges himself without 
 hesitation, that he will qualify young gentlemen for the 
 Counting lioom, in half the time that is consumed in simi- 
 lar institutions in this city, and at considerable less ex- 
 pense. 
 
 August 17th, 1S3S. aug28 
 
 ADVERTISEMENTS. 
 
 FINE READY MADE CLOTHING 
 
 SPRING OVERCOATS, 
 
 BUSINESS COATS, 
 
 FROCK AND DRESS COATS, 
 
 PANTS AND VESTS, 
 Good, Sttlish, Well Made Gakments, 
 Such as men of taste and good judgment will wear, can at 
 all times be found at our store. 
 Our aim is to produce for our customers the best Ready 
 JIade Garments at the lowest posslblb prices fok 
 CASH. 
 
 Readers of this Journal are earnestly solicited to exam- 
 ine our goods before purchasing. 
 
 J W. SMITH & CO., 
 
 Dock Square, corner Elm Street. 
 myll tf 
 
 CATHOLIC BOOK STORE. 
 
 WILLIAM HICliEV, Catholic Bookseller, and Agent 
 for the E.vtensive Publishing House of D. & J. 
 Sadlier & Co., of New York. 
 The latest aud most varied stock of Religious Prints, 
 MISSALS, PRAYER J300KS, CROSSES, 
 and all the Current Literature, constantly on hand. 
 
 No. 12S Federal (corner of Williams) street, 
 BOSTON, MASS. 
 
 P . MORRIS, 
 
 APOTHECARY, 
 
 Comer of Federal and Purchase streets, foot of Summer 
 
 street, Boston. 
 
 STRICT per^^onal attention paid to compounding Physi 
 cians I'lv^ciiptions. A choice seleclion of Family 
 Meilii-iiii". i;iuistantly on hand. A well selected stock ol 
 geijiiine iiii|."iteil Perfumery and Fancy Goods. Soda 
 assortment of genuine 
 apo 
 
 nstantly on hi 
 
 GENERAL TICKET OFFICE 
 
 — for the — 
 
 S O U THERN AN D WESTERN STATES 
 
 AND 
 
 THE CANADAS, 
 No. 2 Albany Street, Boston. 
 
 EDWARD RYAN, Agent. 
 
 N. B. — Paiisage to and from Liverpool,' and Bills of K.x- 
 cliange on England, Ireland and Scotland. 
 
 ap24 ly 
 
 FRANCIS GODFREY, 
 
 IMPORTER AND RESTORER OF 
 
 ITALIAN PAINTINGS, 
 
 AND MANUFACTURER OF GILT FRAMES, 
 
 12 Franklin Street, Boston. 
 
 CT" Engravings, Lithographs, Crayons, &c., on sale. 
 8m aug28 
 
 THE IRISH VINDICATOR. 
 
 A WEEKLY NEWSPAPER, 
 The Best and Cueatest PunMSiiED in America. 
 
 T 
 
 HIS splendid Paper, which is little over nine months 
 " .1 existence, has met with the 
 MOST WONDERFUL SUCCESS, 
 
 and has been pronounced by tlie Press and the Public to be 
 superior to any other Irish Weekly in the United States. 
 
 It contains each week, the very 
 Latest News from every Cocmty in Ireland j 
 Oi'iginal aud entertaiuing 
 STORIES AND ANECDOTES, 
 and a variety of Miscellaneous Reading matter, of a charac- 
 ter which cannot fail to elevate and chasten the intel- 
 lectual appetite. The Irish Vindicator is devoted 
 
 TO THE INTERESTS OF IRISHMEN IN AMERICA, 
 and is so cheap as to be within the reach of the poorest. 
 
 ONLY THREE CENTS A COPY. 
 
 THE following ARE THE TERMS 
 
 To any part of the United States, for one year, fil.lJO 
 
 Do. do. do. for 8 months, 1.00 
 
 Do. do. do. for 4 months, 0.50 
 
 Do. do. do. fori month, 0.12 
 
 To any part of Canada or the British Provinces, one year, 
 
 $2,00— All payments in advance. 
 
 for advertising, 
 
 12 lines, single insertion Sl.OO I 12 lines, 1 month, li;2.50 
 
 12 do. 3 months, 6.60 | 12 do. 1 year, 16.00 
 
 Published every week, at the Office, No 10 Spruce street, 
 
 New York, by the Proprietors. 
 
 EDWARD DOVVNES CONNEEY & C' 
 New York, march 27 
 
 THE SOUTHERN CITIZEN, 
 
 IS published weekly at Knoxville, Tennessee, by JOHN 
 MITCHELL & WM. G. SWAN, at S2 per annum, or 
 SI for SIX months, payable invariably in advance. 
 
 Mr. Mitchell having commenced in the 28tli number ot 
 the paper, a series of Letters addressed to the Hon. Alex 
 auder H. Stephens of Georgia, which when completed will 
 furnish an entire history ot 
 
 THE IRISH TROVBLB S OF 1848, 
 
 With their Causes and Consequences, 
 
 The Southern Citizen will be the more interesting to both 
 American and Irish readers. Besides these contributions 
 IromMr. Milchel, the Southern Citizen will continue to 
 have its usual quantity of original matter upon political 
 and literary subjects prepared by him. The circulation, 
 though large and constantly increasin;;, the projirietors 
 have thought will be much more extended by an announce- 
 ment in this form. 
 
 Communications with remittances may be addresedto 
 Mitchel & Swan, Knoxville, Tennessee, or to any of the 
 following Agents: 
 
 S G Courteuay & Co, Charleston, S C; Thomas B O'Con- 
 nor, Savannah, Ga; J C Morgan, New Orleans, La; Jas A 
 Gentry, Richmond, Va; Alexander Adam-^ou, Washington 
 city; ■rallinage& Tunner, Cincinnati, O; PM Haverty, 110 
 Fulton street, N Y'; S H Goefzel, 33 Dauphin street. Mobile 
 Ala; Benj B Davis, Masonic Building, Montgo: 
 
 Ross & Toucev. 121 Nassau street, N Y , supply dealers 
 
 -- - 121 K 
 San Fr 
 
 upon reasonable terms ; James McGinn, 121 Kearney street 
 Clubs of ten will be supplied with the paper tor S;15. 
 
 SOUTH END CATHOLIC BOOK STORE, 
 
 And Depot for the Sale of the 
 
 METROPOLITAN AND YOUTHS^ MAGAZINES. 
 
 WILLIAM KEATING, Agent, 
 
 8 1-2 Harrison Avenue, or at his New Periodical Store, 176 
 
 Harrison Avenue, Boston, Mass., 
 
 Where a great variety of the most popular Books and 
 
 Papers cam be had at the very lowest prices, 
 
 flLL supply Clubs, Agents, Canva.«sers, & 
 
 SUBSCRIBE! SUBSCRIBE! SUBSCRIBE! 
 
 THE IRISH MISCELLANY 
 
 Inducements to New Subscribers. 
 
 OUR NEW VOLUME. 
 
 Having favorably commenced the second volnmcofonr 
 publication, we seize the occasion tor the purpose of ten- 
 dering thanks to those of our fricndswho havcsogencrons- 
 ly contributed to our support. To start, and succcBsltilly 
 carry on an ordinary newspaper, so that it will, in a rea- 
 sonable space of time, become remunerative to its proprie- 
 tors, is a task not easily accomplished, and which consum- 
 mation does not generally happen in one case out of a hun- 
 dred. Our enterprise, being of a nature entirely different 
 from that of any other Irish paper heretofore established 
 in this country — requiring a much greater expenditure of 
 capital and artistic talent— caused us serious misgivings, 
 aud a constant fear that it would not meet the desires and 
 expectations ot our patrons. How far oureflbrts have been 
 suecessful, is for them to decide; but we tru.rt tliat it will 
 not be considered egotistical on our part when we assert 
 that the Miscellany has far exceeded the most sanguine ex- 
 pectations of partial friends, and that even those who have 
 been enemies from the start have made suitable acknowl- 
 edgment of its merit. 
 
 Since we have had the control of the Miscellany our way 
 has not been — 
 
 'The primrose path of dalliance ' 
 
 We have been beset by obstacles innumerable; but having 
 a strong confidence in our ultimate success, we were deter- 
 mined to surmount all barriers, and though we have not, 
 as yet, brought the paper to that pitch of perfection which 
 is our desire, we trust soon to make it as acceptable as is 
 possible to our readers. 
 
 In beginning a new volume, we introduce various inno- 
 vations, tending to the improvement of the paper, in 
 every way that is possible. We shall give each week, an 
 epitome of Irish news— not the hacknied local quotations 
 which interest only the few, but extracts irom the leading 
 journals, which will be gratifying to the many. In this 
 respect, we will not be following in the steps of any of our 
 contijmporaries, but, on the contrary, will be striking out 
 a path eminently our own. It will also be our aim to give 
 the best class of wood engravings which can be procured, 
 portraying national subjects, and, as our outlay in this re- 
 spect will be infinitely larger than that of any Irish journal 
 published in this country, we look for a commensurate re- 
 turn. In short, it is our intention to make the paper meet 
 the requirements of all classes of readers. 
 
 As an inducement, therefore, to new subscribers, we offer 
 to each person who will pay one years' subscription in ad- 
 vance, commencing with the first number of the first 
 volume, (not the second, as inadvertantly stated in previous 
 numbers,) directly to us or through any of our authorized 
 local or travelling agents, a copy ot our first Gift Picture, 
 representing SarsHeld's Surprise of the Seige Train of the 
 Prince of Orange. When completed, each volume of the 
 Miscellany will form a book of four hundred and six- 
 teen (416) pages, and will alone be worth the price of an 
 entire year's subscription. The same inducements are offer- 
 ad to clubs, as to single subscribers. 
 
 W' sanie't'ermsasth'e I'liblisher.s. The follow „ 
 the terms— 3 copies will be sent by mail, to one address, for 
 one vearSu; G copies for »10; 13 copies for.S20; 20 copies 
 forS30. „ , ,. 
 
 CJ- On the receipt of S3, three copies of the Catholic 
 Youth's Magazine aud one copy of the Metropolitan will 
 be mailed regularly for one year. 
 
 OTT" A few sets of the Magazines from the beginning, can 
 be had of the Agent. Also, all new books Ihrnished as 
 soon as published. ap24 3mos 
 
 NORTHERN HOUSE, 
 
 NORTH SQUARE— BOSTON. 
 
 JOHN CLANCY Proprietor. 
 
 This House has rooms equal to any first class Hotel, and 
 permanent or transient Boarders can be accommodated 
 nearly one half cheaper than at any other House in tlie 
 t'i'-. 
 
 Ill the Reading Room can be found all the morning and 
 evenhig papers, and pfri'Mlicals of the day, together with 
 an extensive Librarv, for the free and exclusi\e use of 
 
 the BoAUDEllB. 
 
 N. B. Strangers visiting Boston, can always find this 
 House a Home. 
 
 CLUBS! clubs:: clubs::; 
 
 There is no town or village so small, but a club of six or 
 more subscribers for the Irish Miscellany can be easily ob- 
 tained. Will those of our friends who are well-wishers ot 
 the land of their birth, do us the favor of getting up Clubs. 
 Our terms will be — 
 To aclub of six persons sent to oneaddress, S10,00 
 
 To a club of twelve, 19,00 
 
 The whole of the money must invariably be sent at one 
 remittance, aud in advance. 
 
 In addition to this great reduction of price, each member 
 of a Club will be entitled to copies of all our splendid Gift 
 Pictures. Let our friends exert themselves, aud by their 
 patronage make the Miscellany the foremost Irish journa 
 on this continent. 
 
 TRAVELLING AGENTS V;/ANTED. 
 
 We have determined to appoint a number of Travelling 
 Agents, to travel in the various States of the Union and 
 canvass for subscribers for this paper We do this at the 
 earnest request of many warm friends, who think we do 
 not take the requisite steps to make the juiper known as ex- 
 tensively as it ought to be. 
 
 Persons desirous of becoming Travelling Agents, who 
 can be well recommended, are requested to apply at our 
 office forthwith. None but faithful, reliable men need ap 
 ply. To such a liberal commission will he allowed. Apply 
 at our Publication Ollice, 4 Water street, Boston. 
 
 Back Numbers ol the Miscellany, from the commence 
 meiit of the paper, may he procured through any of our 
 regular agents, or by sending direct to the ofrce of publi 
 cation. No. 4 Water street, Boston. Will our friends in 
 want bear this fact in aiind? 
 
176 
 
 IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 HARPER'S MAGAZINE. i A Galway Stbambr Cdt Aurift.— Of all the 
 
 To our rciBurks coiu-crning iliis periodiral.we would plagueii wliali infest tha city ol New Yorii, wo know of 
 aJd the following 8U^gt»lions. A wrong story, if nunc whicli ilcnmiuls the iiiicrpusiiion ofluwnn^l au- 
 a porsoii WILL nil it, should be well made up, and tliority more than the JehuB who, as runners, infest 
 calculuted to deceive everybody. It is no new thing to the wharfs, and annoy travellers in the Empire city 
 read in papers or books a story which will pass aa U appears bomo atlempta to suppress them have 
 true with the mass of readers, but must inevitably ho calKd forth their assassin proclivities, and they re- 
 disiovcn'd by a few persons, who will not only know I vcnged themselves by cutting the Prince Albert, of the 
 that the story is untrue, but will see, from internal evi- Gulway line, adrift. A great amount of damage was 
 denec, that the storyteller himself knew, or should done which will fall upon insurance companies. Can 
 hare known, that he was telling an untruih. Too many ' t.Scy not be found out ? The united sentiment of all 
 ' tales of travellers ' in Catholic countries are of this good citizens demand the disbandmeut of the vile 
 stump, and they are the more reprcheusiMe, inasmuch crew, whc are a curso to society, leagued as thpy arc 
 as they do not profess to belong to romance, but to the ; with thieves and brolhal ktipcis. It is hardly known 
 region of established fact. Yet men will writeand pub- I ihe amount of evil society suffers from them 
 lish these things, because ihcy know well an unpopular 
 
 ASVBBTISBMENTB. 
 
 S'lT.AM TO ALL PAIITS OF GIIEAT BRITAIN 
 
 —VIA TUB- 
 ATLANTIC nOVAI. MAIL.'srKAM.SllII'CO'S 
 
 NEW YORK AND GALWAY LINE. 
 
 rpil 
 
 III.S Is the shoneKt route bet 
 
 he line is cunipi>rM:d of |>o\v 
 
 iiig f<lruiiiftliipi«, iibly ullieered, and lurii 
 
 Kiir 
 
 Hi.; .1. p;uliJ 
 low... mil. I I 
 
 II New 
 notice 
 
 ■ York lurliaU 
 
 rful 1 
 
 •a)- 
 
 ill Lu 
 
 I lol- 
 
 tliing can be covered with such a heap of misrepresen- 
 tation that the popular mind may not see the truth for 
 years, perhaps for ages. The liar on the popular side is 
 sure of the ear of the mujoiity to-day, perhaps of that 
 of to-morrow. 
 
 Applying the general statement contained in the 
 last paragraph, but in a inoditicd form, of course, to 
 certain ariiiles which have appeared iu Harper's mag- 
 azine from time to lime, ami, in view of the reasons 
 which we have given for this remonstancc, we hope 
 that the enteiprising conductors will, at least, do Cath- 
 olics the favor to let Catholicity in other lands and in 
 other times alone, unless, indeed, they employ writers 
 who understand the subject and are willing to do it 
 justice. 
 
 No unfriendly feeling has caused these remarks. We 
 merely wish to call the attention of the Harpers to a 
 serious fault in their magazine, a fault easily remedied, 
 but which, as it stands, impairs the cliaracter of their 
 otherwise useful work to an extent which they cannot 
 perceive so clearly from the standpoint taken by,them. 
 
 The proprietor of the Miscellany is resolved, if pos- 
 sible, that no complaints shall be made in relation to 
 mailing and properly dircciing the paper. Any sub- 
 scrilicr not regularly served will please write to the 
 otKec. We, In all cases, comply wiih the regulations 
 of the post-office department, and trust the Miscellany 
 will receive due attention at the hands of the post- 
 masters. 
 
 Wb wish to cull the attention of our many old 
 friends in Washington, D. C , to the name of our 
 friend, as well as confidential agent, D. A. Brosuan. 
 Any business he transacts in our name we are fully 
 satisfied to endorse, and we are well pleased with his 
 intention of becoming a resident of that city, to which 
 we have such warm attachments and pleasant memo- 
 ries. 
 
 EvKRY information respecting passage to Ireland 
 in the Galway steamers can be obtained at the office 
 of the 'Irish Miscellany,' No. 4 Water Street. 
 
 ritlM K Al.lilCKT, r. J. Waters Mondav, Oct. 18. 
 
 l.NUiA.N i:.Ml'IUE, K. Courtcnay .... SatuidaV, Oct. M. 
 I'ACIHC, Williain C. Thompson Friday, Nov. 0. 
 
 Persons vlsltint; Ireland reach tbcir destination Iu three- 
 fourths the time mkeu by niiy otiicr route, and all have an 
 opportunity ot visiting places and scenery of unrivalled In- 
 terest ill Ireland. 
 
 Trice of pasMij-e, Includinfc free tickets by the usual rail- 
 road ruulen Iruiii Oalu uy tu uiiy ol the principal cities ol 
 Oreat Itrituiii, at the lulliiwin;; reduced rates: — First claaa 
 $00. second clusH $jU, tliiid cliisr S^. 
 
 Those wisliin)(tu brhi); tlieir friends to this country can 
 pui-chuse tickets lor tlieir pussui;e in third class from Ual- 
 way at $30, or from olhercllics in Oreat Urilaili, accesi'ible 
 by railroad, S3o. A liberal cabin table will be provided, 
 and cooked provisions for ttiird class passengers to and 
 from tjiahvay. 
 
 For freight and passage and further particulars apply to 
 the Aiuencau Express Company, til Hudson street. New 
 York, or to 
 
 NAZUO BEOTUERS & SWEENEY, 
 
 ol6 tf 5 CImthum Kuw, Uoston. 
 
 Irishuen is trk United States Navy. — From 
 the day when George -VVashington chose John Barry 
 first commodore of the United Stales Navy, down 
 through the history of that branch ot the public service. 
 Irishmen have been distinguished as in all other posi- 
 tions of danger or trust. They have aciiuittcd them- 
 selves with benefit lo their country and honor to them- 
 selves. Complaints have reached us that an Irishman 
 making application for service in the navy is formally 
 rejected ; but he can soon find a cue by which his na- 
 tivity is altered, and, by stating he belongs to Maine, 
 or some other maritime state, he is at once received. 
 And as it is common to serve three or f.jor periods of 
 enlistment, the mean Irishman finds himself an alien 
 when he retires from the service. We have been in 
 communication with the Honorable Isaac Toucy, Sec- 
 retary of the Navy, upon this suljcct, and we are satis- 
 fied that the attention of that department will be given 
 the subject which it deserves, and that the evil com- 
 plained of will be remedied. Iiishmen are as capable 
 as any men to sustain the flag first flung to the breeze 
 by a Barry and a Jones. Declaring their intention to 
 become citizens of the United States before entering 
 the service, they will have no need to belie the old and 
 honored land of their nativity. « » * 
 
 The Westurs Banner. — We are happy to be able 
 to add to the list of our exchanges 'The Western 
 Banner,' edited and published by Mr. Bernard Killian,at 
 St Louis, Mo. Mr. Kllian has done good service in the 
 Irish literary world. It will be remembered he was 
 with Mr. McGee on the American Celt, and likewise 
 upon the ' New York Tablet.' We are glad that in 
 the great West there will be able advocates of the 
 adopted citizen, amongst whom none .vill be found 
 more faithful to his trust than our warm friend Killiun. 
 Aiid, sooner or later, he will be felt, and his talents 
 
 An additional steamer has been placed on the line 
 between Galway and Liveipool by Mr. Lever. It 
 touches at Belfast for freight and passengers. 
 
 J. k R. MURPHY, 
 
 MANUFACTURERS OF 
 
 SURGICAL AND DENTAL INSTRUMENTS, 
 CUTLERY, 
 
 AND STEEL "WORK OF E\'ERY KIND, 
 ATo. 3 HARVARD PLACE, (opposite the Old South,) 
 
 BOSTON, Mass. 
 CC^Cutlery and Instruments of all kinds Repaired. 
 ly aug28 
 
 W. J. HENNESSY, 
 ARTIST, 
 
 No. 37 FRANKLIN STREET, 
 
 NEW YOKK CITY. 
 
 PASSENGER CERTIFICATES. , 
 
 TO OLD COUNTRYMEN. Owes Mo Namaka has 
 Passage Ccrtilicatcs and Drafts always on hand and 
 for sale. As he docs business for that mOFt respectable 
 house. (Williams & Guiou) in New Y'ork. Old Countrymen 
 desiring lo send for their friends, or remit money, would 
 do welFto give him a call at No. 4 Gorham St.. oppo.iite 
 Summer St., Lowell, Mass cp":: 
 
 OLD COLONY HOUSE. 
 
 PATRICK HOLLY' begs leave to announce to his pat- 
 rons und the public generally that he has couetaully 
 uu hand at his old und well-known stand, 
 
 THE OLD COLONY HOUSE, 
 
 CORNER OF KNEELAND AND SOUTH STREETS, 
 
 A CUOICK ASSOUTMEXT OF 
 
 BRANDIES, WINES, SCOTCH & IRISH 
 
 "WHISKEY, CIGARS, &c. &c., 
 
 all ol the very first qualily, which cap be obtained too at 
 
 LOWER RATES 
 
 than elsewhere in the market; in proof of which he invites 
 purchasers to give him a call. aug 28 
 
 OUR AUENTS. 
 Boston.— John J. Dyer, & Co., 35 School street; A. Wil- 
 liams & Co., 100 Washington street ; Fedheien & Co., 9 and 
 13 Court street; Wm. Hickey, 128 Federal street; Uowe k 
 Co., 11 Court Avenue; and William Keating, 17G Harrisou 
 Avenue, 
 
 Bangor, Me.— Edward J. Kelleher. 
 
 York— Dexter & Brother, 14 & 16 Ann street. 
 
 -Fro 
 
 i Roarkc 
 
 DO'ROURKE, 
 • public, that he keeps 
 
 'pectfully informs his Iriends and the 
 ecps constantly on hand COFFINS 
 of all "sizes and kinds, at his Collin JIauufactory, No 347 
 Federal, between Bench and Kuceland Streets, Boston, 
 which he will sell as reasonable as cun be bought at any oth- 
 er place in the citv. 
 
 N. B— Orders punctually attended to, day or night. 
 
 Residence, No. 28 South street. Boston. 
 
 [TT-ei rave-Clothes furnished to order at short notice. 
 
 feblS 
 
 rilEN READY WAYS TO MAKE MONEY, being 
 
 X oriKinal receipts for the manufacture of useful arti- 
 
 orlgil 
 
 il receipts for the mauufactu 
 cics, wlitcli command a quick sa 
 Formerlv sold for .?.5; hut now ' 
 gold dollar. Addre^ T L REILLY, I'eace Dale, K. I 
 
 sure a full pocket, 
 person lor one 
 
 al3 
 
 6t 
 
 fhiladeiphia.— A. Winch, 320 Chestnut street. 
 
 Ohio — M. U. Bird, Ciucinnati, and Uawks k Brothers, 
 Cleaveland. 
 
 Detroit, Mich. — J. A. Roys. 
 
 St. Louis, Alissonri. — Tho'mas Duggan. 
 
 New Orleans, La.— James M. Shine. 
 
 California— .John Mcijinn, of San Francisco. 
 
 The Miscellany may also be had, retail, of newspaper and 
 periodical dealers throughout the country. 
 
 TRAVELI.ISO AOEKT.'?. 
 
 John Warren, 50 Andover street, for Boston and vicinity. 
 James Doyle, of Millbury, Mass. M. Findlay McKay, 
 of Amesbury. Mass. Edward il. Keenun, of North Ferris- 
 bnrg, Vt. Michael F. Uackett, of I'rovidencc, R. I. Jamea 
 SulPivan, of New Haven, Ct. James Cullcn. of West Troy, 
 N. Y. Daniel A. Brosuan, of Wasbiugtou, D. C. 
 
 RATES OF ADVERTISING. 
 
 FOR EACH SQUARE OF TWELVE LIITSS. 
 
 Flmt Insertion, . . . Sl.OO I Three mouths, . . se.OO 
 
 Each subsetpient do . 60 1 One vcar, .... 16.00 
 
 Six lines or les.s constitute half a square. 
 
 Larger advertisements charged in proportion. 
 
 Business Notices, solid . ■ . 10 cents per line. 
 
 " '' leaded ... 15 ' 
 
 BUSINESS CARDS of six lines or less. 
 For On Month, . . . S1.50 1 Six Months, . . . 86.00 
 
 Three Mouths, . . . S3.00 | On« Year »8.00 
 
 *.*AII advertisements payable In advance. 
 
 and services fully appreciated bv a people who arc not i rpREANOR & GUINEY, ATfORNEYS and COUTsSEl^ 
 1 I L 1 , rl;.i,r.,i ,« >h» ,.1,1 UnH ! X LOKS AT LAW, 15 Massachusetts Block, Court square, 
 
 slow to reward those who are faithlul to the olil lana. ) iJ^^jm, 
 
 We understand he is cndorsid and highly recommend- 
 
 ed by the Most Rev. Archbishop Kendrick. Mr. Kil- 
 lian proposes to supply the adopted citizen with a good 
 paper, and we heartily wish him seccess, and the peo- 
 ple to read him. 
 
 LAWRENCE BRIGADE BAND. J. Desmond, Lead- 
 er. Are prepared to lurni.-li- Music for .Mililarv and 
 Civic Parades. I'lcNics, Festivals. &c. Also, a (juodrlllc 
 Band luruishcd, if desired. Address J. Deimond, car* of 
 B«r. J. U*DoDn«ll, Lawrenoe. Maw. 
 
 THE 
 
 IRISH MISCELLANY 
 
 Is published weekly, and devoted to the interests and vin- 
 dication of the Irish people throughout the world. 
 
 The MisctUany repuhlishes each week one whole number 
 of the old ' Dublin I'knny Journal,' with original and 
 selected essays, reviews, poetry, &c., by Irishmen, of first- 
 rate ability. ' It also contains beautiful I'ictorial Illustra- 
 tions of Irish scenery and other objects of interest, among 
 which may be euum'erated engravings of the ancient cas- 
 tles and round towers, the ruins of the old churches, the 
 plundered monasteries, convents and abbeys of Ireland. 
 
 It will also contain correct I'ictorial representations ol 
 woi'ks of art executed by Irishmen ol the pre.'^ent day, as 
 well as Iu former timesi iu this country and throughout 
 Eurojie. 
 
 TKiuie. — 82,00 per rear, invariably in advance. 
 THOMAS O'NEILL, I'ROPniETOR, 
 MICHAEL J. WALSH, Conductor, 
 
 Ko. 4 Watkb Strkkt, Bustom, Uaw. 
 
VOLUME 2— NUMBER 38.] 
 
 BOSTON, SATURDAY, OCTOBER 30, 1858. 
 
 [PRICE FOUE CENTS. 
 
 CLARE-CALWAY. 
 
 Amongst the monastic remains of Ireland Clare 
 Abbey, better known as Clare-Galway, beautifully sit- 
 uated on the banks of the Clare river, near its entrance 
 into Lough Corrib, and five miles north-east of Galway, 
 claims distinguished notice — not so much from the his- 
 torical recollections or traditions with which it is asso- 
 ciated, but from the singular perfection which the re- 
 mains present. They are evidently the relics of a build- 
 ing of very extensive magnitude, and of a date long pos- 
 terior to the occupation of Ireland by the English. The 
 style of architecture is a mixture of the Normon and 
 Saxon ; and, with the darkly flowing river in front. 
 
 unfit representative of the long-necked county of Gal- 
 way. Some forty or fifty years ago, one half of this 
 region was unknown, and the British law was as inop- 
 erative as in the centre of Africa. There was scarcely 
 a road over which a wheeled carriage could pass. In 
 Connemara nothing resembling an inn was to be 
 found, the owners of the soil reigned as supreme as the 
 Highland chieftains of Scotland did in the days of yore, 
 and the people, though of unquestioned courage, were 
 as rude and neglected as the bare rocks among which 
 they lived. Within the last twenty years much of all 
 this has been changed, and few portions of her Majes- 
 ty's dominions are now better known. Tourists and 
 
 uated, is the largest lake in Connaught, covering 
 30,000 acres, and having a subteianeous communi- 
 cation with Lock Mask at Cong, about two miles 
 from thence. After passing the ferry of Knock it 
 bacomes an extensive sheet of water until within 
 three miles of Galway, when it assumes the char- 
 acter of a river, which it retains until it falls into 
 that bay. 
 
 In connection, we would add that the old city of 
 Galway, which has been made a steam-packet sta- 
 tion for two lines of steamships to the United States 
 and British North America, as it were in spite of 
 the government inquiry, now bids fair to be visited 
 
 forms a scene of desolation highly picturesque, and in 
 no small degree characteristic of the condition of the 
 country. The social and political change* that have 
 occurred have scarcely left an ancient building in Ire- 
 land that is used at the present day. The hand of 
 time has most assuredly fallen very heavily on most 
 of the architectural remains ol Ireland, numerous as 
 they are, but on none greater than her monastic build- 
 ings. It would seem as if the furies had spared the 
 ronnd towers of the days of paganism to expend their 
 wrath upon the memorials of a religion that was once 
 universal in Europe. Clare Abbey has had its share 
 of the destructive element, and at this day looks no 
 
 CLARE ABBEY, CO. GALWAY. 
 philanthropists have done much for the regeneration 
 of the people, and the signs of improvement are agree- 
 ably prominent. About the year 1290, ,Iohn dc Cogan 
 built this monastery for Franciscan friars, in a very 
 elegant and expensive style. On the 7th of March, 
 1338, Tli0:nas, Lord Athenry, grunted the lands of 
 Cloy-melayn, which were contiguous to the town of 
 Clare, for the purpose of purchasing bread, wine and 
 wax, for the celebrating of wine in this friary. The 
 high tower in the centre of thu church, and erected on 
 arches, is a curious piece of architecture. De Burgo 
 erected a strong castle at this monastery. 
 Lough Corrib, near which Clare-Golway is sit- 
 
 by travellers and tourists from all parts of the 
 world. The facilities for inland travel have been in- 
 creased to a great extent of late years, giving the 
 lover of the historic and picturesque every oppor- 
 tunity to examine this remarkable locality of moun- 
 tains, valleys, rocks, sea, rivers, lakes, and ruins, 
 t!ie latter, indeed, in Ireland, too frequently 
 abound. 
 
 In relation to the government commission of 
 inquiry, for eBtabliehing a. trans-Atlantic packet 
 station in Galway, we refer our readers to the ar- 
 ticle upon that report on page 183 of this week's 
 Miscellany. 
 
178 
 
 IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 ALLEY SHERIOAN. OR THE RUNAWAV ; 
 
 MARRIAGE. 
 
 It would be diliicult to see a prettier country I 
 girl, when dressed in her rural lincry, than the 
 heroine of the following story. Alky Sheridan's 
 name, to use a phrase peculiar to her own class in i 
 life, 'went far and near for bein' the purtiest an' 
 Uic dacentest girl in the parish, let the other be 
 who she might,' a compliment to her beauty and | 
 goodness perfectly just. 
 
 Alley's father had been dead since her infancy; 
 but her mother was one of those notable, active, i 
 shrewd women, who verify the proverb, that one 
 pair of eyes are n'orth two pair of hands, llcr hus- i 
 band, Owen Sheridan, had been a tull, smoking 
 personage, remarkable for laziness and taciturnity 
 — slovenly in his dress, and careless in his business, 
 to such an incurable degree, that neither the energy 
 nor eloquence of his wife could throw life or activ- 
 ity into his habits, or train him to industry or ex- 
 ertion. Owen was well to do in the world, because 
 it so happened that his father had Kft him a large 
 farm at an exceedingly light rent, together with a 
 'skillet full of guineas,' which he seemed to accu- 
 mulate for no other purpose than that of leaving 
 them to his hopeful heir. 
 
 Vpon the old man's death, Owen occupied the 
 farm, somewhat according to the manner in 
 which Dominie Sampson occupied his new clothes, 
 and smoked over the corpse just as he would have 
 done over that of any other acquaintance. As for 
 the 'skillet of guineas,' he never took the trouble of 
 invading the privacy in which they lay until after 
 his marriage, when his wife insisted upon exercising 
 her right and skill in computing them, that she 
 might know at least their numerical amount. 
 
 ^^'hen Owen found himself at the head of the 
 farm, he continued to smoke on and saunter about 
 the hills as usual. Other men might have become 
 smart, and assumed a little consequence on the oc- 
 casion; but Owen was a stranger to that painful 
 secret — how to think. He knew, as was generally 
 supposed, that he had the farm in his own right, 
 although there were several who demurred even to 
 his knowledge of the fact. At all events, he inhab- 
 ited the house, and came to seek his meals — not at 
 the usual hours, 'tis true, but whenever he wanted 
 to light his pipe; for this being his great master 
 passion, eating and drinking were performed rather 
 by an association arising out of that act, than from 
 the impulse of appetite. 
 
 In this manner Owen smoked for several years, 
 uniil hia mother had judged it high time for a 
 change in his condition, and, accordingly, one even- 
 ing she desired him to put on his hat, and accom- 
 pany her on a short journey. Owen took it down 
 &om a peg behind the door, dropped it sluggishly 
 on his head, and, crushing his pipe against the end 
 of a half-burned turf, which he lifted from the fire, 
 put it into his mouth, and set out, without asking 
 his guide a single question. The honest woman 
 was on her way to 'make his match,' and brought 
 Owen along with her, because she thought it deco- 
 rous, at least to show his intended wife part of the 
 live stock belonging to the farm with which she was 
 so soon to be connected, and on which, careless of 
 every other object, her heart was fixed. 
 
 ^Mien Owen arrived, he planted himself in the 
 chimney comer, and whilst the negotiation in 
 which he was so deeply concerned went on between 
 the parties, he continued to smoke and pore over 
 the fire with his usual indifi'crence and assiduity. 
 It was near midnight when he and his mother re- 
 turned — the latter appealing in remarkably good 
 spirits, the former with the same imperturbable in- 
 clination to suck his 'doodeen.' 
 
 One morning, about a fortnight afterwards, she 
 desired him to put on his best apparel, and accom- 
 pany his friends and neighbors to Andy M'Urath's. 
 Owen, accordingly, having put on his Sunday 
 clothes, somewhat conscious, we must admit, that 
 
 he was about to take a prominent part in the pro- 
 ceedings of the day, at once set forward with the 
 party assembled. On their arrival they found Miss 
 SrOrath — to whom Owen was to oe bound in the 
 bunds of matrimony — with a large party, in gallant 
 trim, ready to proceed to the priest's house. 
 
 '.Vndy,' said he, 'don't you think — (puff) — um, 
 hem, um, um — (puff) — ha, hem, hem— (puff) — 
 don't you think — (puff) — um, um, hem, hem — 
 (putr, puff) — um, don't — (puff) — Andy, don't — 
 (puff, puff, puff,) — until he lost the thread of his 
 discourse, and left the matter in the dark recesses 
 of his own mind, undivulged and unknown, so 
 that the purport of what lie was about to say, like 
 most of his observations, literally ended in smoke. 
 
 All being ready, the party set out for its destina- 
 tion; but to Owen the priest's house seemed a sec- 
 ondary consideration; for, more attentive to his 
 pipe than to his bride, many u dismounting he had, 
 and many a cabin he entered, in order to obtain 
 'lave to light it.' 
 
 'Arrah, thin, honest man,' said an old -woman, as 
 he stood with his middle finger on the head of his 
 cutty pipe, his chin stretched out, his leathern 
 cheeks sucked into his jaws, and his eyes half-shut 
 — strong proofs of the absorbing delight he found 
 in the act of striving to revivify the expiring weed 
 — 'Arrah, honest man, maybe you'd be afther tell- 
 ing us who the bride and groom is?' 
 
 'Maybe you'd have a knittin'-needle widin?' said 
 Owen, who paid n" attention to her question. 
 'Dang this pipe! it's stopped, and I cau't get a blast 
 out of it.' 
 
 •Throth,' replied the woman, 'I'm sorry there's 
 not one widin the four walls wid me, or you should 
 have it wid a thousand welcomes.' 
 
 He then broke a sprig of heather off the oroom, 
 with which he attempted to 'red it,' but still to no 
 purpose. There was now but one remedy, and that 
 was to put the pipe into the fire, and burn out of it 
 whatever obstructed the draught. This having 
 been accordingly accomplished, without any ap- 
 pearance of hurry, the woman repeated the ques- 
 tion as to the names of the bride and bridegroom. 
 
 'I'm the 'groom' myself,' replied Owen; 'um — 
 (puff, puff,)— and the bride's one or other of Andy 
 M'Grath's daughters.' 
 
 'Musha, God grant you luck and happiness! 
 A\ hich of Andy's daughters? Clanc, dacent girls 
 they all are any way. AVhich of thim, aroon?' 
 
 'Um, um — (ptiff, puff,) — ha, ha, hem. Which o' 
 them is it? — why hem, ha, um — (puff, puff, puff, 
 puff,)' — and he proceeded on his way, leaving the 
 old woman shrouded in smoke and ignorance, for 
 the truth was that he himself felt by no means clear 
 upon this point. 
 
 The rest of the party had reached the worthy 
 priest's house half an hour before him, for the mo- 
 tions of his body were as slow as those of his mind 
 were dull and unobservant. On arriving, how- 
 ever, he sought his reverence's own room, where a 
 few of the particular friends on each side were as- 
 sembled — the rest being engaged dancing in the 
 barn. After a little chat, in which Owen had, as 
 the country people say, 'neither act nor part,' the 
 priest, who happened to be a new curate, only a 
 few days arrived in the parish, asked if it was not 
 time to perform the ceremony. 
 
 'I would rather,' said Owen, 'um, ha — that 
 Father M'ilahon himself would — hem, hum, ha — 
 marry us; he's an ould hand at it — hem, hum, ha.' 
 
 'He's not at home,' said the curate, with a smile; 
 'but you may rest assured that I'll tie the knot as 
 closely as he could for his life.' 
 
 'It must be done — huir. — it must be done — ha, 
 hum, um, hem, privately. You must all pack out, 
 neighbors, barrin' — hem, ha — the two Linahans, 
 and these colleens,' he added, pointing to two 
 young women who stood before him, cither of 
 whom he supposed might be the bride — 'we want 
 to hold some private discourse here first.' 
 
 The rest, imagining that there might be some 
 confidential matters to diseuxs, delicately withdrew, 
 and Owen, like a man in a dream, taking the hand 
 of the young woman ne.\t to him, desired the priest 
 to proceed. 
 
 'It's the best way, yer reverence,' said one of the 
 Linahans, giving his brother the wink, 'in regard of 
 Mr. Sheridan's bein' afeard that these rollikin' divils 
 in the barn widout 'ill be putting their jokes and 
 thricks upon him, and he wishes to give thtm the 
 slip, sir, so he does, plazc yer reverence, and it's 
 dancin' mad they'll be for this, any way.' 
 
 The two I.inahan's were Owen's servant men, 
 and the two young women their sisterp; but 
 whether the mistake proceeded from the bride- 
 groom's irreclaimable habits oi abstraction, or from 
 a preconcerted plan on their part, was never after- 
 wards discovered It is sutHiicnt to say thatwhilst 
 Andy M'Urath's daughter and the rest of the party 
 were exercising their heels in the priest's bam, 
 Owen was married to Alley Linahan, to the un- 
 bounded mirth of some, but certainly to the im- 
 placable resentment of M'Grath and his friends, 
 who, in conscqcnce of the affront, knit themselves 
 into a faction, between which and that of the Sher- 
 idans many a bloody battle was subsequently 
 fought. In one of these, poor Owen, about three 
 years after his marriage, got his skull broken, leav- 
 ing bis wife with two children — a boy, and the sub- 
 ject of the present sketch. 
 
 After his death, his widow, who was really an 
 industrious, stirring woman, now that she found 
 herself unencumbered by so sluggish aa incubus of 
 a husband, became more celebrated than ever as 'a 
 good manager.' Nor was this virtue, so rare in 
 our unhappy country, without the reward which 
 industry and perseverance ever meet. In a short 
 time her farm became like a garden on a large scale, 
 being so well stocked, so judiciously divided inio 
 pasture, plantation, and arable, that had it met the 
 eye of eo-opera'ivc Owen, he would have insisted 
 on initiating the widow into the doctrine of paral- 
 lelograms, in order to bring the establishment to 
 perfection. As it was, I question, howevct, if any 
 of his 'parallelogramraatical' systems could equal 
 it, which, I suppose, might be attributed to that 
 trite principle, called common sense, w"hich Mr. 
 Owen takes such desperate pains to evade. 
 
 Next to her farm, Mrs. Sheridan's mind was oc- 
 cupied by the instruction of her daughter Alley — 
 and next to Alley, was she interested in the figure 
 which young Owen ought to make as the inheritor 
 of such an independent properly. Her mode of edu- 
 cating these two hopes of her house was peculiar 
 to herself, but at the same time, such as might be 
 expected from a woman, who, although she knew 
 not a letter in the alphabet, contrived to succeed so 
 well in life without book knowledge. The latter 
 accomplishment was therefore excluded fiom her 
 system, not because she undeivalued it, but be- 
 cause there was not a school or schoolmaster within 
 seven miles of the remote comer of the country in 
 which she lived. Instead of this, she wisely sub- 
 stituted such practical acquirements as the habits 
 of her own life, the business of good housekeeping, 
 and the improvement of her farm, enabled her to 
 communicate to her children. 
 
 Owen and Alley were accordingly never sepa- 
 rated when she wished to exhibit any useful pro- 
 cess, or to read them in her own homely but intel- 
 ligible terms a course of lectures on the business of 
 country life, industry and economy. Alley, for in- 
 stance, could break a colt, reap a ridge of corn, or 
 hold a plough, quite as well as Owen — and Owen 
 could make up a churning of butter, and kill a goose 
 or turkey, with as much skill as Alley, or at least 
 with a tact which she could seldom surpass. The 
 mother's plan was to teach Owen everything com- 
 prehended within the employment of a farmer, in 
 the first place, and afterwards to superadd all that 
 she had planned out for the accomplishment of 
 
IRISH MISCELLAMY. 
 
 179 
 
 Alley. Alloy, on the other hand, received sound 
 instruction in whatever a young woman in her con- 
 dition in life ought to know, together with an ex- 
 perimental initiation into the whole agricultural 
 improvement of a farm, with all its correlative 
 dependencies, such as buying and selling cattle, 
 grain, &c., and a competent knowledge of farriery, 
 so far as farmers and graziers practise it in a simple 
 way. It was no uncommon thing to see Owen and 
 Alley out with the laborers, each of them in the act 
 of knitting a stocking, or, perhaps Alley leading a 
 'banwin' of men, when setting or digging potatoes. 
 
 It is not for us to discuss the advantages or de- 
 fects of Jlrs. Sheridan's system; we only relate it 
 according as the worthy woman put it into execu- 
 tion. It was, however, the subject of much mirth 
 among the neighbors, and indeed, through the 
 whole parish, as well as for some distance into the 
 skirts of the parishes adjoining. So far as Alley 
 was concerned, it had unlimited approbation, be- 
 cause the prejudices of the people were not against 
 it; but in Owen's case, whether mirth or contempt 
 were most strongly excited it was difficult to say. 
 Endless were the jokes and jibes to which his prac- 
 tice of housewifery gave rise — some in all the grav- 
 ity of affected simplicity, others in the broad carica- 
 ture of farcial humor. 
 
 As regarded Owen, all their taunts fell harmless, 
 for the truth was, that from fifteen up, he began 
 every day more and more to resemble his father. 
 At sixteen, his mother detected him with a 'cutty 
 pipe' in his mouth, as he lay stretched at his ease 
 on the head of a ridge of oats which she had just 
 reaped. This alarming propensity she determined 
 to extinguish, as the root of Indolence, neglect and 
 indilference in a j'oung man's character. Her at- 
 tempts were spirited and judicious, we must ac- 
 knowledge; but the habit descended from his father 
 with all the prominence and obstinacy of an heredi- 
 tary failing, difficult to be repressed, much less 
 rooted out of the disposition. She consequently, 
 after becoming weaker and more vacillating in her 
 opposition, ultimately abandoned it, and Owen be- 
 came more silent, indolent, and phlegmatic, and a 
 more inveterate smoker, in proportion as he grew 
 into confirmed manhood. In fact, when his dispo- 
 sition became fully developed, he was as accurate 
 a copy of his father as if he had been painted after 
 his likeness. The mother witnessed this with sor- 
 roiv; but as she was possessed of no secret which 
 had power to stimulate him into life and activity, 
 the result was, that like his worthy sire, he aban- 
 doned everything but the pipe, and sank into a 
 mere nonentity, without respectability or influence 
 — the imperturbable butt of all the wicked wit and 
 flying jests in the parish. 
 
 Totally the reverse of him in every thing was his 
 sister Alley, who had now advanced to the full prime 
 of womanhood. The reader, however, is not to sup- 
 pose her to be still engaged in those laborious and 
 masculine pursuits, to gain a knowledge of whict she 
 had been trained hy her mother. This shrewd woman 
 possessed too much good sense and decent pride to 
 make her daughter a slave to that which she had 
 taught her only as a resource against the contingen- 
 cies of her future life. 
 
 On the contrary, no sooner had her practice become 
 satisfactory, and her health and constitution been im- 
 proved by active labor, than she was taught to assume 
 all that dginity of character which a young woman 
 with a fortune of five hundred pounds ought to mani- 
 fest. A very obvious change was soon visible in her 
 dress and manner; but no maternal precept, however 
 dignified or rigorous, could banish from Alley that 
 sweetness of dispoi-ition and winning kindness of de- 
 portment, for which she had been ever since her in- 
 fancy so remarkable and so beloved. 
 
 Her person, which, despite of exposure to wind and 
 weather, had been always good, now that she led a 
 more feminine and domestic life, softened into beauty 
 of no common character. She was rather tall, her 
 
 linihs admirably proportioned, and her features regu- 
 lar and well defined Her auburn hair, which fell 
 about her neck in natural tresses, was luxuriant, and 
 her dark eyes were full of feeling, while her whole 
 countenance was lit into an arch expression of playful 
 humor, hy two red, laughing lips, within which, when 
 she smiled, wore disclosed a set of teeth equally regu- 
 lar and white. 
 
 It was at this period of her life that Alley began to 
 regret the want of some portion of literary education; 
 for she had too much sense not to feel acutely the con- 
 sciousness of her own inferiority on this important 
 subject. When she mingled in fairs and markets, and 
 bore a part in the social intercourse which took place 
 between friends and acquaintances, she perceived, with 
 evident chagrin, the obvious advantages which many 
 young women, far her inferiors in fortune and expec- 
 tations, had over her, in consequence of having been 
 taught simply to read. As her ignorance was known 
 to most of them, they seldom omitted an opportunity 
 of gratifying tlie envy which her lieauty, dress, and 
 wealth had raised, by some insulting display of their 
 own literary accomplishments. 
 
 This to Alley was certainly a trial which required 
 a considerable stock of patience to endure, and the 
 evil was rendered the more intolerable by the flouting 
 and contemptuous ostentation with which they over- 
 whelmed her by quotations from the 'Key of Paradise,' 
 .the 'Fairy Tales,' 'Porty Thieves,' 'Pifty Reasons,' 
 'The Irish Rogues and Rapparees,' or 'The Academy 
 of Compliments and Polite Letter-writer.' The two 
 latter were particularly obnoxious, for as they regard- 
 ed a subject in which she felt the deepest interest, viz., 
 love, the abilitj' to peruse their contents was consid- 
 ered by the simple girl as one of the most desirable 
 qualifications in which a young woman could be in- 
 structed. 
 
 Indeed, were it not for an old aunt, to whose bosom 
 she confided this aflfliction, such a defect in the system 
 of her education would have been much more severe 
 upon Alley's mind and spirits than it actually was. 
 This aunt had lived with the widow Sheridan since 
 Iier marriage, and, next to that good woman herself, 
 was the most authoritative person in the family. She 
 was, moreover, exceedingly capricious, having never 
 been trammelled with the fetters of wedlock — 
 and whenever a slight misunderstanding occurred 
 in the family, she would raise her voice from tlie chim- 
 ney-corner, where she constantly rocked herself to 
 and fro at her 'padreens,' in words of humble thank- 
 fulness uttered, however, in a tone of the bitterest re- 
 gret. 
 
 Though an old maid, she was inveterately wedded 
 to her own opinions, for which, whether right or 
 wrong, no human device or power could dislodge 
 her. In many things she was Alley's confidant ; 
 but never did she evince such an indignant sense of 
 scorn, as at the taunts to which her neice was com- 
 pelled to listen from her enemies, upon the vulgar- 
 ity of unlettered ignorance, and the melancholy fact 
 of ' not gettin' the larnin' and the edjicayshin '.' By 
 her advice. Alley procured a prayer-book, and on 
 the following Sunday sallied forth to mass, attended 
 by her aunt, with a determination to go through 
 the form of perusing it, by turning the leaves, and 
 moving her lips with as learned an air as possible. 
 This, however, proved a disasterous scheme to her 
 reputation, and a miserable specimen of her aunt's 
 sagacity ; for one of her adversaries who knelt just 
 at her elbow, had thus an opportunity of discover- 
 ing that the poor girl read with the wrong end of 
 the book up, and that the book itself, instead of be- 
 ing a prayer-book at all, as the knavish pedlar who 
 sold it had declared, was nothing more nor less than 
 ' The History of Reynard the Fox.' In a few min- 
 utes her opponent jogged her neighbor, and whis- 
 pered the joke, which soon went round, until a gen- 
 eral smile gradually rose to a suppressed titter of 
 the bitterest and most cutting ridicule. Poor Alley 
 had not moral courage to bear this detection ; and 
 the mirth was the less endurable, as she felt con- 
 
 scious of its justness. Her face became like crim- 
 son, and afterwards as pale as ashes ; for, looking 
 round, she observed every eye bent with a sneer on 
 herself — and what utterly overcame her firmness 
 was the presence of her sweetheart, young James 
 Mullen, who knelt a little to her left, and witnessed 
 the whole exposure. Her misery was most exces- 
 sive ; the book dropped out of her hand, and she 
 sank lifeless on the spot where she knelt. 
 
 Mullin saw with indignation the envy which pro- 
 duced her embarrassment ; in a moment he raised 
 her in his arms, and carrieij her out of the chapel 
 into the fresh air ; but not until he swore that if 
 Peggy Gartland were a man he would make her feel 
 bitterly the consequences of her heartless conduct. 
 
 ' Why, thin, Mullin, but that's manly, any way,' 
 replied Gartland's brother — who, in fact, was a re- 
 jected suitor of Alley's — ' and must we stan' by, 
 and hear our sister threatened ? Put this in your 
 pocket, Mullin, that you may thank the place that 
 it's in, or ye'd be made to ate yer words, a viok 
 machree — ay, indeed, swally them to thelast letther 
 of what ye said.' 
 
 'Eh, Gartland! an' have you a hand in this 
 scheme, too ?' replied Mullin. ' Whisper, a bouchal 
 — I'm proud to hear it ; for you and I'll meet where 
 there'll be no chapel over our heads. Chew your 
 cud upon that, young man.' 
 
 'I've been long wishin' for it,' replied Gartland, 
 who followed him out, ' and I'll tell ye a taste of 
 news — I'll be in the fair Monday fortnight ; ay, in 
 throth, and a couple o'dozen o' my frinds along wid 
 me — thigun thu ma — you understand me ?' 
 
 ' Tha sha maigh ! — it's well — take yourself off 
 wid you ; 'tis there I'll be, wid a sharp look-out 
 Ijin' in the corner o' my eye, for one Mike Gart- 
 land, that's a big rascal wherever he is — and we'll 
 have man for man, too, or our name's not Mullin. 
 Off wid ye, man, and let me and these dacent wo- 
 men bring the girl to herself, that's at death's door 
 through the manes of your unsignified sister.' 
 
 Gartland returned into the chapel, burning with 
 ungovernable rage, deepened by a hatred originating 
 in his own want of success with Alley, and a know- 
 ledge of her preddection for his rival, on whom he 
 now looked with the most concentrated detestation. 
 When Alley recovered her swoon, she felt herself 
 unequal to the task of again encountering the jeers 
 of those who envied her superior beauty. Young 
 Mullin, it is true, encouraged her from a principle 
 of heroic attachment, to meet her enemies face to 
 face, protesting with many oaths, that he would 
 take signal vengeance upon the male relations of 
 such of her female acquaintances as should dare, 
 after what had occurred, to tamper with her feel- 
 ings. On this point, however, she was immoveable, 
 though the down-cast and tender glances with which 
 she favored him, while her cheeks mantled with 
 blushes, gave very satisfactory intimation that his 
 generosity was not unfelt. She resolved, therefore, 
 to go home, and he, very naturally, determined to 
 accompany her. We wiU now leave them to pursue 
 their journey, and in the mean time proceed to give 
 a sketch of the state of Alley's heart, and of the two 
 principal claimants for its affections. 
 (To be coutinued.) 
 
 R. A. Milliken, the author of 'The Groves of Blar. 
 ncy,' or ' Dick,' as he was familiarly called by his 
 friends in Cork, was a most convivial soul, and kept 
 late hours. On one occasion, as a sedate citizen of 
 Cork called upon him one morning about some busi- 
 nest, Dick w.is still in bed. He hurried on his clothes 
 and came forth. ' Ah, Dick,' said his Quaker visitor, 
 ' thou wilt never be rich if thou dost not get up earlier » 
 it is the early bird that gets the worm.' Dick' 
 who did not care much to be schooled, replied' 
 
 ■ The d 1 mend the worm for being up so 
 
 early.' 
 
180 
 
 miSH MISCELLANY. 
 
 HOW PRINCE CHARLES WENT A-WOOINO TO 
 THE INFANTA OF fPAIN! 
 
 rnoM DK. uokak'b 'knioiuj and tueib dats.' 
 Tliin unhappy and ill-udviaeJ nfl'uir will ever rvmnin 
 one of ttio u«rk«t bleniiljc) un ihe uniformly pncitie 
 but inclorioul reign of the royal pupil of Buchanan; 
 the whole detail is an uneraie*ul one of iotrigao and 
 ill-faith. And however justly Buikingliam may h« ac- 
 cused of exerting his baneful influence to dissolve the 
 treaty — and that he did so in the wantonness of his 
 power is now past doubt — the disgrace which should 
 hnvc attached to him stilt hangs round the memory of 
 the timid king ond bis wT^ak yet gttllttntlydi--posed son. 
 I am more inclined to allow a high-niiniledness of feel- 
 ing to Chiirlcs than to his father. The king, who sup- 
 posed the entire art of reigning lay in dissimulalioii, 
 may not be charged with an over scrupulous nicety in 
 his observations of the rules of fair dealing; but the 
 young prince, at this period, had the sentiments with- 
 out the vanity of a knight-emini; his only error was in 
 the constitutional weakness which bent to the arro- 
 gance of Bnckingbam's somewhat stronger mind. 
 
 There is a work known to many, an J rend by a fow, 
 the 'K()istol«e Howeliana;,' consisting of a collection ot 
 familiar letters on m:iny su'Jects, by a certain Jumes 
 Howell. The author was a cadet of a noble family, 
 several members of which had been on the roll of 
 knighthood. He pu.shed his fortunes with all the vigor 
 of an aspiring younger brother. His letters exhibit 
 him agent to a glass factory at Vienna, a tutor, n com- 
 panion, a clerk, secretary to an embassy, agent again, 
 and finally, an attache to the privy council. Master 
 Howell, in these epistles, continually rings the changes 
 on the importance ot attending to the main chance; 
 bewails the stagnation which non-employment throws 
 round his fortunes; or congratulates himself on the 
 progress they are making to ugh his industry. At 
 the period of Charles's visit to Madrid, he was agenj 
 there for the recovery of a vessel taken by unlawfu) 
 seizure, and he contemplates the prince's arrival with 
 deliKht, viewing him as a powerlul adjunct to his 
 cause. He complains bitterly of the prince as showing 
 more condescension to the needy Spanish poor, than 
 politeness te an accredited agent of an English com- 
 pany. The agent's honor or ruin depended on the 
 ■occess of his mission, hence good Master Howell is 
 occasionally anxious and ill at ease. The success of 
 his mission, too, hung upon the happy termination of 
 the match; a marriage ho considers as the avant- 
 courier of his appointments, but should some un- 
 jucky reverse prevent the end he hopes for, why 
 then, to use one of the worshipful agent's most fa- 
 vorite figures of speech — then 'my cake's dough." 
 His letters are the chief authority for what fol- 
 low!. 
 
 It is quite consistent with the whole character of 
 the drama that the journey should be prosecuted 
 through France. Charles and his suite travelled in- 
 cognitio it is true, but Buckingham was rash enough 
 to introduce the prince at a court ball in Paris, 
 where he perhaps saw and admired the lovely Hen- 
 rietta Maria. From the gay court of France the er- 
 rant company speedily decamped, hurried rapidly 
 towards the south, and crossed the frontier just in 
 time to escape the strong arm of the governor of 
 Bayonne, stretched out to arrest their progress. On 
 Friday, the 7th of March, 1623, Charles and his at- 
 tendants arrived at Madrid, under the guise of very 
 homely personages. Buckingham took a name 
 which has since served to cover a fugitive king of 
 the French — that of (Thomas) Smith, and therewith 
 he entered Bristol's mansion, ' twixt the gloaming 
 and the murk,' with a portmanteau under his arm, 
 while Charles waited on the other side of the street, 
 not as the Prince of Wales, but as Thomas Smith's 
 brother John. Lord Bristol did not allow the son 
 of his monarch to remain long in such a situation. 
 Charles was conducted to the house, and on being 
 ushered into a bedchamber, he immediately asked 
 for writing materials, and dispatched a messenger to 
 hit father announcing ths lafs arrival in the Spanish 
 
 capital. Cottington and Porter arrived the next I 
 day, and even »o soon as this, a report was spread- 
 ing through the city thut James himself waa in 
 Madrid. 
 
 On the evening of Saturday, Buckingham went 
 privately to court, in his own person, ond told the 
 tale of the adventures of this knight to whom he 
 had acted as squire. The delight of all parlies was 
 intense. Olivarcz accompanied Buckingham on his 
 return to the Prince to express how immeasurably 
 glad his Catholic Majesty was at his coming. The 
 proud minister, who was the contemporary, and 
 perhaps the equal, of Kiehclieu, knelt and kissed 
 the prince's hand, and • hugged his thighs," says Mr. 
 Howell, like a slave as he was. (iondomar, too, 
 hastened to offer his respects and congratulations to 
 the young prince. At ten that night, too, came the 
 most distinguished as he was the most desired vis- 
 itor ; Philip himself appeared in generous haste to 
 welcome the person, and thank the noble confidence 
 of his almost brother-in-law. The meeting of the 
 parties appears to have been unaffected and cordial. 
 After the salutations and divers embraces which 
 past in the first interview, they parted late. 
 
 The stern severity of Spanish etiquette would not 
 permit of Charles's introduction to the Infanta, and 
 it was accordingly arranged that the princess should 
 appear in public on Sunday, and the prince meet 
 her on the Prado, just as the Knight Guzman sees 
 Inez, in the ancient ballad. In the afternoon of the 
 eventful day, the whole court, neglecting for the 
 occasion all sumptuary laws, appeared in all its 
 bravery. Philip, his queen, two brothers, and the 
 Infanta, were together in one carriage, and the prin- 
 cess, the cynosure of attraction, scarcely needed the 
 blue riband which encircled her arm as a sign by 
 which Charles might distinguish her. The knightly 
 lover, who had experienced some difficulty in mak- 
 ing his way through the exulting multitude, who 
 threw up their caps and cried. ' God bless him," was 
 in waiting, with ^his di j inutive court and Count 
 Gondomar, to view the defiling of the procession. 
 The royal carriage approached, and as the eye of the 
 princess first rested on her destined lord, she blush- 
 ed deeply, ' which,' adds the calculating Mr. Howell, 
 ' we hold to be an impression of love and affection, 
 for the face is oft ntiraes a true index of the heart." 
 The Infanta, at this period, was only sixteen, and 
 tall of ber age. 
 
 'A very comely lady," says the agent, 'rather of a 
 Flemish complexion than Spanish, fair haired, and 
 carried a most pure mixture of red and white in her 
 face ; she is full and big-lipped, which is held as 
 beauty rather than a blemish." 
 
 Charles was now honored with a complete court 
 establishment and apartments in the palace ; there 
 was revelry in tamp and city, and the gallantry of 
 the journey so touched this high-minded people 
 that they declared the beautiful bride ought to have 
 been made Charles's immediate reward. Gaiety was 
 at every heart, and poesy, in the person of Lope de 
 Vega, celebrated 'the Stuart," and 'Marie, his star.' 
 In all the festivals and carousals at court, Charles 
 was not once permitted to approach ' his star." The 
 royal family sot together under a canopy, but there 
 was ever some unwelcome intervener between the 
 lovers, and the prince was compelled to satisfy his 
 ardent soul with gazing. The worthy English agent 
 records that he has seen him 'have his eyes immovc- 
 ably fixed upon the Infanta half an hour together, 
 in a thoughtful, speculative posture, which,' he sa- 
 gaciously adds, ' would needs be tedious, unless af- 
 fection did sweeten it." 
 
 It was on one of these occasions that Olivarez, 
 with less poetic truth than energy of expression, 
 said that Chartes watched her asa cat does a mouse. 
 Whatever outward respect Charles may have volun- 
 tarily offered to the prejudices and observances of 
 Spanish ceremony, he, and perhaps the blushing 
 Infanta, thought it very cumbersome love-work for 
 
 young hearts. Words had passed between thtm, it 
 is true, but only through the medium of an inter- 
 preter, and always in the presence of the king, for 
 Philip • RBl hard by, to overhear all,' and under- 
 stand, if he could, the interpretations made by Lord 
 Bristol. Weary of this restraint, the prince toon 
 found means, or rather an opportunity, to break 
 through the pompous obstacles which opposed the 
 good old plan of love-making, and he, with Endy- 
 mion Porter to attend him, did ^ot fail to profit by 
 the occasion. 
 
 Near the city, but across the river, the king had 
 a summer-house, called Casa di Campo. Charles 
 discovered that the Infanta was accustomed to go 
 very often of a morning to gather May-dew. The 
 knight and e.-quirc accordingly donning a silken 
 suit for a spring morning, went out betimes, ond 
 arrived without let or hindrance at the Cata di 
 Campo. Their quality was a sure passport, and 
 doors immoveably closed to all others opened to 
 them. They passed through the house into the 
 garden, but, to their wonder and difOppointment, 
 the ' light of love " was not visible. The Infanta 
 had not arrived, or had fled, and disappointment 
 seemed likely to be the probable reward of their 
 labor. The garden was divided from an adjoining 
 orchard by a high wall ; the prince heard voices on 
 the other side, perhaps heard the voice, and hasten- 
 ed to a door which formed the only communication 
 of the two divisions. To try this outlet was the 
 work of a moment ; to find it most vexatiously 
 locked was the conviction of the next. The lover 
 was at bay, and Endymion's confused brain had no 
 resource to suggest. They looked at the wall. It 
 was high, undoubtedly, but was ever such a barrier 
 too high for a king's son — a knight and a gallant, 
 when it stood between him and such ' a star " as the 
 muse of De Vega made of the Infanta ? Charles 
 was on the summit of the wall almost as soon as the 
 thought of climbing it had struck him; with the 
 same eagerness he sprang lightly down on the other 
 side, and hastily made towards the object of his 
 temerity. Unfortunately, there was an old 'duenna' 
 of a marquis with her in quality of guardian, and 
 the Infanta, who expected perchance to see the in- 
 truder, was constructed, for the sake of appear- 
 ances, to scream with well dissembled terror. She 
 gave a shriek and ran back. Charles followed, but 
 the grim marquis interfered his unwelcome person 
 between the lovers- Turning to the prince, he fell 
 on his knees, conjuring his highness to retire; he 
 swore by his head, that if he admitted the prince to 
 the company of the Infanta, he, the grisly guardian 
 of the dove, might pay for it with his head. 
 
 As the lady, meanwhile, had fled, and did not re- 
 turn, Charles was not obdurate. Maria, though she 
 had escaped (because seen), couldnotbut be pleased 
 with the proof he had given of his devotion, and as 
 the old marquis continued to talk of his head, the 
 prince, whose business lay more with the heart, 
 turned round and walked slowly away. He ad- 
 vanced towards the door, the portal was thrown 
 open, and thus, as Mr. Howell pithily says, 'he 
 came out under that wall over which he had got 
 in." Endymion was waiting for him, and perhaps 
 for his story, but the knight was sad, and his squire 
 solemn. Charles looking an embodying of the idea 
 of gloom, and Master Porter with some ill-will was 
 compelled to observe a respectful silence. 
 
 The Infanta and her governor hurried back to the 
 palace, while her suitor and his followers were left 
 to rail in their thoughts against the caprice of la- 
 dies, and the reserve of roy al masters, and so ends a 
 pretty story of ' how a princess went to gather 
 May-dew.' 
 
 This solitary and unsuccessful love-passage was 
 the last effort which Charles made to engage the 
 good will of Maria. He at once retired to his apart- 
 ments in the palace, whence he seldom went abroad, 
 except for the purpose of attending a bull-fight 
 
 J 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 181 
 
 Buckingham was sick-a-bed, his offonded nobility 
 lay ill-disposed at court, and the palace residence 
 was gradually becoming irksome to all parties. 
 Charles could only have bed-chamber prayers, and 
 not possessing a room where he might have attend- 
 ed the services of his own church, the sacred plate 
 and vestments he had brought over were never 
 used. Moreover, the Knights of the Gartar, Lord 
 Carlisle and Denbigh, had -veil nigh set the palace 
 on fire, through leaving their lighted pipes in the 
 summer-house. The threatened mischief, however, 
 was prevented by the activity of Master Davies, my 
 lord of Carlisle's birber, who 'leapt down a great 
 height and quenched it.' 
 
 In the meantime, the Princess Infanta was pub- 
 licly addressed as Princess of Wales, and as an ac- 
 quaintance with the English language was a posses- 
 sion much to be desired by the bearer of so proud a 
 title, the Lady Maria began, ' her accidence,' and 
 turned her mind to harsh declensions and barbarous 
 conjugations. Though enthusiasm had somewhat 
 cooled, the business continued to proceed ; the most 
 serious interruption was occasioned by the death of 
 the Pontiff, as it entailed many of the ensuing ob- 
 stacles which at once began to rise. The unfinished 
 work of Gregory was thought to require a 'da capo' 
 movement from his successor Urban, and the new 
 hierarch commenced a string of objections and pro- 
 posals which were of. no other effect than to pro- 
 duce mistrust and delay. Buckingham, too, recov- 
 ering from his sickness, longed to return to Eng- 
 land, where it was now understood that the Pope's 
 tardiness was founded on hopes of the princes con- 
 version. 
 
 The people of New England were alarmed and 
 clamorous, Charles and the duke discontented and 
 impatient. The latter urged a return, and the prince, 
 in his expressing his wishes to Philip, stated as his 
 reasons, his father's age and infirmities, the mur- 
 murs of his people, aiid the fact that a fleet was at 
 sea to meet him. He added, a most close argument, 
 that the articles which had been signed in England, 
 bore, as a proviso, that if he did not return by a 
 specified month, they should be of no validity. It 
 honorably belied the supicions against the Spanish 
 Cabinet, that not the slightest opposition was made 
 to the return ; pro.^ies were named, and on the 
 termination of affairs with the Pope, Maria was to 
 follow Charles to England. The lady is said to have 
 remarked, that if she was not worth waiting for, she 
 was not worth having. Charles must have felt the 
 remark, but the duke was paramount, and the wind 
 which favored their departure, as speedily blew 
 away the popularity of a prince whose knightly 
 bearing, modest gallantry, and high virtues, so par- 
 ticularly formed him for the favorite of a romantic 
 nation. The treaty for the Spanish match was 
 broken. 
 
 der-horn, and I'll soon freo him; I'll blow up the stone 
 in an instant.' 
 At these words, the confasion and alarm of the mul- 
 
 THE HOLESTONE. 
 
 On a rocky eminence in the townland of Ballyver- 
 nish, about one mile from the village of Doagh, County 
 Antrim, stands a large whinstone slab, called the Hole- 
 stone. This stone is upwards of five feet in height 
 above the ground, and near the base six feet eight 
 inches in circumference, and ten inches in thickness. 
 At about three feet from the ground there is a ronnd 
 hole perforated through it, sufficient to admit a com- 
 mon-sized hand; it has evidently been made hy art, 
 but there is neither record nor tradiuon respecting the 
 purpose for which it was erected, nor by wliom. 
 
 About thirty years ago a man put his hand through 
 the aperture of this stone, but was unable to extricate 
 it; on which those who were with him gave the alarm, 
 and a crowd collected, whose conBictlng opinions only 
 served to increase the fears of the person in limbo. 
 Amongst those assembled, was a Mr. , a resi- 
 dent in the neighborhood, who, seeing so much need- 
 less alarm, determined to be a little waggish on this 
 occasion. 'Fly,' said he to a bystander, 'for my pow- 
 
 titude beggars all description while the cries of the 
 prisoner, which had hitherto been sunk n the no se, 
 became piercing in the extreme. During the confus- 
 ion, the gentleman had sent off privately for some 
 vinegar, and on the return of the messenger with it, 
 he began to pacify the prisoner, and to bathe his hand, 
 which had become swelled in the various attempts 
 made to gst it extricated ; and he at length succeeded 
 in effecting his liberation, without application to the 
 much dreaded powder-horn. 
 
 The writer is not aware of any similar stone at pres- 
 ent in Ireland; but it is said that within memory, a 
 large stone with a hole through it, stood on a hill, near 
 Cushindall. In Ross-shire, Scotland, there is a stone 
 exactly resembling the above; and near Kirkwall, 
 Orkney, at a place called Stennis, is a large stone 
 standing with a hole through it, said to have been a 
 Druid's altar. The place where it stands is still 
 consecrated to the meeting of lovers; and when they 
 join hands through the stone, the pledge of love and 
 truth there given is sacred, and rarely, if ever, has it 
 been broken. 
 
 Stones perforated in this manner are to be found in 
 most parts of Ireland, and particularly in the burial 
 grounds attached to very ancient churches. The 
 annexed cut represents one of those remaining 
 in the chuchyard of Castle Dermot, and which 
 is inscribed with some ancient Ogham characters or 
 
 letters, In use In Ireland previous to the Introduction of 
 Christianity. 
 
 There is also a remarkable perforated stone of this 
 description, inscribed also with Ogham characters, 
 
 near the church of Kilmelcheder, one mile from Smer- 
 wick harbor, in the county of Kerry. They have, 
 prol'ably an Eastern origin, for Mr. Wilford informs 
 us, in the Asiatic researches, vol. vi., p. 502, that per- 
 forated stones are not uncommon in India; and de- 
 vout people pass through them when the opening will 
 admit, in order to be regenerated. If the hole be too 
 small, they put the hand or foot through it, and with 
 a sufficient degree of faith, it answers nearly the same 
 purpose. 
 
 THE WORLD IN ARMS AGAINST TOBACCO. 
 
 Modern lovers of the pipe seldom think of the 
 worthies to whom they are indebted for its free en- 
 joyment ; and of those who delight in nasal ali- 
 ment, how few ever call to mind the Diocletion per- 
 secutions of their predecessors passed through for 
 adhering to their faith in, and transferring to their 
 descendants the virtues of tobacco. Europe frown- 
 ed and Asia threatened. Pagan, Mohammedan, and 
 Christian monarchs combined to crush them. James 
 I., foaming with rage, sent forth his ' Counterblasr,' 
 the half savage ruler of the Muscovites followed 
 suit ; the King of Persia, Amurath IV. of Turkey, 
 Jehan Geer, and others, joined the crusade. They 
 denounced death to all found inhaling the fumes of 
 the plant through a tube, or caught with a pellet 
 it of under their tongues. Those who used it as a 
 sternutative only were to be deprived of nostrils and 
 nose. 
 
 The modes adopted to exterminate the plant in- 
 creased the demand for it, till it was sought for 
 with an avidity that no penal enactments could 
 suppress. Royal and sacerdotal clamor had raised 
 its consumption ten thousand fold. The tide turn- 
 ed, and all began to praise the magic leaf. Ladiea 
 joined their lords in smoking after meals ; boys car- 
 ried pipes in their sachels to school, and at a certain 
 hour pedagogues and pupils whiffed together. Not 
 a bad subject for a painter. Mothers in the six- 
 teenth century filled their sons' pipes early in the 
 morning to serve them instead of breakfast. Peo- 
 ple went to bed with cigars or pipes in their mouths, 
 and rose in the night to light them. All classes be- 
 came consumers ; even priests were not excepted, 
 provided they refrained till after mass. To accom- 
 modate travellers, poor and transient persons, 'to- 
 bagies,' or smoking houses, were licensed on the 
 Continent in every marine and inland town, where 
 sailors and itinerants could, on moderate terms, be 
 made happy, either by inhaling the vapor of the 
 popular stimulant, or tickling their nasal mem- 
 branes with it. The ambitious sought fame by as- 
 sociating themselves with the introduction of the 
 plant and its cultivation ; hence we find it named 
 after cardinals, legates, and ambassadors, while, in 
 compliment to Catharine de Medicis, it was called 
 ' the Queen's herb.' Kings now rushed into the to- 
 bacco trade. Those of Spain took the lead, and be- 
 came the largest manufacturers of snuff and cigars 
 in Christendom. The royal workshops in Seville 
 are still the most extensive in Europe. Other 
 monarchs monopolised the business in their domin- 
 ions, and all began to reap enormous profits from 
 it, as most do at this day. Much has been written 
 on a revolution so unique in its origin, unsurpassed 
 in incidents and results, and constituting one of the 
 most singular episodes in human history, but next 
 to nothing is recorded of whence the various pro- 
 cesses ot manufacture and uses were derived. Some 
 imagine the popular pabulum for the nose of trans- 
 Atlantie origin; no such thing. Columbus first be- 
 held smokers in the Antilles, Pizarro found ehewers 
 in Peru, but it was in the country discovered by 
 Cabral that the great sternutatory was originally 
 found. Bra/.illian Indians were the fathers of snuff, 
 and its best fabricators. Though counted among 
 the least refined of aboriginees, their taste in this 
 matter was as pure as that of the fashionable world 
 of the East. Their snuff has never been surpassed, 
 nor their apparatus for making it. 
 
182 
 
 IRISH MISCEIJ.ANY. 
 
 THE MOTHER AND UNOLE OF NAPOLEON. 
 
 Caniiiml l'V.>cli, the umie of N.ipolcon, hiiviiig in- 
 Tiled tut lo in.spcct his gallery, I glmllj availed myself 
 of the ocauiiun, and paid my respccid to liim at his 
 pAJacc. I found his collcclion \fsa ruinarkablo tlian 
 nnmcrous. Not but there were tunny pit-lures of high 
 class amongst them ; but they were like gems scattered 
 here and there amid much tiu>cl and rubbish. His 
 aim was to apparently cover his walls, and in this ho 
 had amply surcecJed. His eminence kindly did the 
 honors himself. There was nothing particularly re- 
 markable ciilier in the attainments or the ccnvcrsaiion 
 of this prince of the church, unless it was the perfect 
 freedom with which ho spoko of the past. A bust of 
 his nephew, by Canova, led him to speuk of that ex- 
 traordinary man. ' The emperor." as he invariab y 
 entitled him, 'posses.scd in an unusual degree the 
 power of concentrating his ideas ; and that power was 
 one of the chief elements of his success.' On an ob- j 
 servBtion which I made ou the classic style of head, he 
 rather maliciously a«kcd mo whut I understood by a 
 ^•lassie stylo of head ; ' for certain it is that no man 
 ever less approached the classic period, in character or 
 ideas ; he was the slave of no ttadition — the disciple of 
 no school ; his mind, like his elevation, was unique in 
 the history of the world.' My reply explained to him 
 that I alluded more to the severe intellectual line of 
 beauty, extraordinary expanse of brow, and regularity 
 of outline, than affinity of character. ' There perhaps,' 
 he observed, ' you arc right ; and they are points of 
 resemblance of which he was not a little vain. In the 
 gallery at Florence is a bust of remarkable beauty, an 
 undoubted antique of Julius Ca;sar when young, which 
 is said to have resembled him ; at least, his flatterers 
 thought so. I question,' he added, ' whether with the 
 ancients, as with the modems, there was not a conven- 
 tional character in all their works of art ; a fixed ideal, 
 which, without destroying the resemblance, gave a 
 similitude of character to their works ; a severe senti- 
 ment of beauty, which often replaced the reality. We 
 see it alike in the statues of Trajan and Vespasian, in 
 those of Pompoy and Octavius ; and yet no characters 
 could be more dissimilar. The modern artists, who 
 painted or sculptured the busts and portraits of the im- 
 perial family, were not less flatterers than those who 
 immortalized the Ctesars. The celebrated statue of 
 my sister at Vienna is, aft<;r all, but a clever parody of 
 the Agrippinna. Here,' he added, pointing to a cameo 
 ring upon his linger, 'is a portrait of my nephew ; in 
 my judgment, more like him than all Canova ever ex- 
 ecuted.' 
 
 His eminence kindly drew it from his finger as he 
 spoke, and permitted me to examine it. It was cut 
 upon an Egyptian onyx of uncommon beauty, and 
 certainly convcyi-a but little of that classic character — 
 I use the term for want of a better— by which the por- 
 traits 01 Napoleon were generally characterised. Its 
 expression was more of cold determination than beauty 
 or dignity. 
 
 ' I value it exceedingly,' continued the cardinal ; ' it 
 was given to me on the proudest, though not, perhaps, 
 the most glorious, day of his life — the morning of his 
 coronation.' 
 
 • It must,' I obseired, ■ hare indeed been a proud 
 day ! the modem Charlemagne receiving the crown of 
 Gaul from the hands of the successor of St. Peter.' 
 
 ' You forget.' observed the cardinal, ' that the em- 
 peror refused to receive the crown from the hands of 
 the venerable pontiff. He was indeed anointed by him, 
 but the crown his own hands took from the altar and 
 placed it on his head. It was in vain that both Jose- 
 phine and myself combated his resolution ; his reply 
 was as charateristic as it was decisive ; ' France,' he 
 exclaimed, ' has given it to me ; Rome shall not con- 
 firm it.' 
 
 There was a tone of regret and sadness with which 
 the anecdote was related that embarrassed me ; deeply 
 as I felt interested, I hesitated to continue the conver- 
 sation, and tumcd to regard a picture by Cimabue, 
 in order to give his eminence an opportunity to change 
 the subject, which, either by accident or daiign, he 
 did. 
 
 ' Yon arc nn admirer of Cimnbuo,' he said. ' Many 
 pretend lo find in him the typo of Hatlaelle, an idea ' 
 which the picture lieforo you favors.' it was a St. 
 Catharine ; the features suave and expressive of virgin 
 he*uiy. ' How dilTirent from the moderns,' he added. 
 ' The decline of art, if I may venture to pronounce the 
 present age such, has not preserved one of tho beauties 
 which marked its dawn. Hard as arc the draperies of 
 Qiollo and his master, there is n tiuthfulncss and pur 
 pose in their pictures whi.'h I would gladly see imi- 
 tated. Angre, the actual president of iho French 
 Ac;idemy in Home, has endeavored to incorporate the 
 styles, but without success ; it is like those ' tableaux 
 vivanis ' of the hiiddle ages whivh I litvly saw rcprc- 
 .sented at the Princess Bjrghcsc's an ingenious ' trav- 
 cstc,' a ' melange ' — in which the moderns contrast un- 
 fiivorably wiih the oneients.' 
 
 lu sauntering from picture to picture, I listened with 
 considerable amusement to the observations of his em- 
 inence ; if they were not alwiiys profound, they 
 had at least the merit of being' original and somelimcs 
 odd. 
 
 ' To understand my collection rightly,' ho added, 
 'you must keep in mind the purpose I had in view in 
 forming it ; it was to present, in a series of pictures, 
 tho rise, progress, perfection, and decay of art in Italy. 
 For this purpose it was necessary to procure spicimens 
 of every master — every school ; to contrast the florid 
 painters of Venice with those of Sienna and Pisa ; the 
 Roman and Florentine with the Lombard, Bologncun, 
 and Parmagean schools. Numerous as my collection 
 is, it is fur from being perfect. I shall never live to 
 complete it.' 
 
 During the morning the conversation glanced at his 
 sister Madame Letitia, who, since the loss of her sight, 
 lived in complete retirement in her palace at the corner 
 of the Piar.zo d'Ventzia, in the Corso. 
 
 ' I would present you,' kindly observed the cardinal, 
 'but lately my sister receives no visitors ; the misfor- 
 tunes of her family have completely broken her spirit. 
 The death of the emperor she bore better than I could 
 have expected, but the I055 of her grandson was a 
 dreadful blow to her. Would you believe it, the em- 
 press did not even deign to communicate it to her. I 
 received the information from the ambassador of 
 France, who, having served my nephew, still ftels a 
 grateful interest in his family.' 
 
 I was aware of the truth of this in many instances. 
 The elder son of Lucien Bonaparte was, at the very 
 period his uncle conversed with me, a prisoner in the 
 Castle of St. Angelo ; the second an exile in America. 
 They both incautiously entered into the conspiracy of 
 the Carbonari, and were betrayed ; orders were given 
 to arest them ; the younger escaped, the elder shot the 
 officer of carbineers sent to apprehend him. His un- 
 cle's prayers, backed by the influence of the French 
 ambassador, alone saved him from the last conse- 
 quences of his rash act. 
 
 Cardinal Fesch is much respected in Rome ; it is 
 said that he is ambitious, probably he is so, but his 
 morals and his character as a churchman have ever 
 been exemplary. In all Napoleon's unjust attacks 
 upon the territory of the Holy See he sided with the 
 pontiff, and it is certain ihat Pius VII. honored him 
 with his confidence to the last. Old as he was, at the 
 period of which I speak, he still retained hopes of be- 
 ' ing allowed to end his days in France. Louis XVIII. 
 and Charles X. vainly tempted him to resign his sec, 
 the archbishopric of Lyons ; their offers — and they 
 were magnificent, it is said — were fruitless ; to ihe last 
 hour of his life he remained titular of his diocese. The 
 revolution gave him considerable hopes of a return ; it 
 is oven said that ho offered Louis Phillippe his vast 
 gallery for tho nation, to obtain permission, but in 
 vain. If he really did make such an offer, he little 
 knew the character and politics of the late ruler of 
 France — the Citizen King was a traitor only to the 
 elder bronch of his house, he was faithful to its polities. 
 Although I never had an opportunity of being pre- 
 sented to the mother of N.ipoleon, an occasion was af- 
 forded me of contemplating that remarkable woman at 
 my ease. Monsieur Grassini, one of the cardinal's 
 
 chaplains, frequently said mass in the private chapel of 
 her palace ; on one occasion ho allowed me to accom- 
 pany him ostensibly to servo the mass ; a friend in the 
 English college, whose figure resembled mine, kindly 
 lent me hU soutuin ; and thus accoutred, 1 presented 
 myself with the worthy priest, and assisted with him 
 during tho oflicc, which was no sooner commenced 
 than, leaning on the arm of one of her ladies of honor, 
 Madame Letitia made her appearance. The mother ot 
 the emperor bos generally been represented as bearing 
 a striking resemblance to her son. I confess that I 
 could not see it ; to be sure, ago and sorrow might 
 have changed her. Nothing could he more eimpio 
 than her costume — a plain dress of black velvet, with- 
 out ornament of any kind ; a large veil covered her 
 head-dress, and formed a sombre drapery round hor 
 shoulders. She was totally blind. If I may judge 
 from the portraits of her daughter, the Princess 
 Panline. she was the one of her children who most re- 
 sembled her. It was impossible to regard without res- 
 pect and interest the woman who was alike so respect- 
 able in her grandeur and her sorrow ; her womb had 
 teemed with kings, and yet all her race were exiled. 
 Well had the Romans named her the Niobe of modem 
 years. Her features, even at the advanced period of 
 life in which I beheld her, were regular ; but, as far as 
 1 can judge, must have been more remarkable for ex- 
 pression than beauty ; her figure slight ; her standard 
 below the average height of women, but erect and dig- 
 nified. During the celebiation of the sacred mysteries 
 it was impos.sible not to be struck by the deep devo- 
 tion she displayed. From the ' Sanctus ' to the ' Do- 
 mine non dignuc sum,' she remained kneeling in silent 
 prayer. It was evident that in religion she had found 
 force to contend against the reverses of life, the fallen 
 greatness of her race, and the destruction of those 
 hopes which were once so promising. It is said that 
 even in the midst of the greatest prosperity of her fam- 
 ily she never lost sight of the possibility of a reverse ; 
 it haunted her continually, and was the principle cause 
 of that economy with which she has so often been re- 
 proached. 
 
 ' Alas I' she exclaimed on one occasion, when it was 
 hinted to her that a more liberal expenditure of her 
 revenues would be more agreeable to the emperor, 
 ' who knows how soon I may have all these kings and 
 princes on ray hands ?' 
 
 Her foresight was prophetic ; but, like Cassandra, 
 she was unheeded. At the end of the mass, two 
 ladies, who accompanied her, conducted her to the 
 rails of the altar, where one of the officprs of the 
 household had already placed a cushion. I had the 
 honor to hold one end of the cloth, whilst she com- 
 municated. Nothing could exceed the fervent piety 
 with which that august act was accomplished. Long 
 after the mass she remained kneeling at her ' Prie 
 Dieu,' engaged in actions of grace. When I quitted 
 the chapel with the worthy priest, she was still 
 there absorbed in fervent prayer. The next time I 
 saw her she was in her coffin, in the little church 
 adjoining the Doria Palace on the Corso. An old 
 soldier of the Imperial Guard, who had been a faith- 
 ful attendant in her adversity, was leaning on his 
 ] musket by her side, while the cardinal, her brother, 
 pronounced the absolution over her remains. 
 
 * Mother of tiim whose giant mind 
 Aimed at the empire of mankind, 
 Gathered beneath his eagles' wings! 
 Mother: whose womb didst teem with klngt, 
 Tis past; tby carcwoni ppiril's fled. 
 And thou hast Joined the mighty dead! 
 I saw thee living, and could trace 
 Majestic sorrow in thy face — 
 The look resigned, the uuspoken care, 
 The withered heart, the sad despair; 
 Too proud for wordo. too deep for tears, 
 TliQu Niobe of modern yearel 
 This city of the dead, old Rome, 
 Was, in thy grief, a fitting home; 
 For there the records of the past 
 Around each step their shadows cast; 
 And thou didst Und, amidst their gloom. 
 All earth could yield— a living tomb. 
 
 For there, the wreck of empire flown, 
 
 J 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 183 
 
 The curule oliair, the rogal throne, 
 
 The trophieil eagle, must linve been 
 
 As visions that thy sou! had seen. 
 
 For years thy thoughts were o'er the wave, 
 
 Its yearnings round that lonely grave 
 
 Where rest the ashes which enshrined 
 
 The master-spirit of mankind: 
 
 There was thy worlds all else to thee 
 
 Was barren as that lonely sea, 
 
 Whose waters bear no living thing, 
 
 Uurutlled by the sea-bird's wing — 
 
 A scene accursed— a desert rude — 
 
 A barren waste— a solitude. 
 
 Thy — thy eagle boy was dead I 
 
 Joy — pride — ambition — all were tied ; 
 
 Thy children exiled from the land. 
 
 Whose sceptre filled their brother's hand; 
 
 Sundered ou earth from every tie. 
 
 What hadst thou left thee but to die? ' 
 
 EXPOSE OF A BRITISH COMMISSION. 
 
 We appropriately publisli remarks upon the pro- 
 ceedings of tlie Commissioners appointed by the Eng- 
 lish Treasury to inquire into the best harbor in Ireland 
 for establishing a packet station, from Marmion. This 
 commission, which was called ' The Trans-Atlantic 
 Packet Station Commission,' was composed of five 
 members, Right Hon. Earl Granville (chairman), Hon. 
 W. Cowpcr, Sir James A. Gordon, Sir John F. Bur- 
 goyne, and Captain Stephen Ellerby, all Englishmen 
 or Scotchmen, of course. They continued their sittings 
 at the Board of Trade from September, 1850, to May, 
 1851 ; and, after the examination of numerous wit- 
 nesses, and wading through a mass of written commu- 
 nications, they came to a conclusion, not very dif- 
 ficult to foresee even before the inquiry was entered 
 upon, that the establishment of such a station on the 
 S.S.W. or West toast of Ireland, although it might be 
 bentfitial to that country, would be prejudicial to Eng- 
 land and Scotland ; and they, therefore, could not re- 
 commend an}' change being made in removing the 
 packet station from Liverpool, where it had been 
 originally established, except occasionally delivering 
 and embarking the mails at Holyhead. A portion of 
 this report, however, in respect to ' the West coast be- 
 ing subject to fogs and hazy weather, and particularly 
 dangerous in the winter' season,' is not correct, nor 
 justified by the evidence or documents produced on 
 the inquiry, unless from such prejudicial naval author- 
 ities as Sir Edward Belcher, who, although he des- 
 cribed at great length the unfitness of these harbors for 
 packet stations, at the very onset admitted that he had 
 never been in one of them in his life, and that his 
 knowledge was derived from his inspection of charts in 
 connexion with them. Some idea may be formed of 
 the reliance to be placed on this man's testimony,when 
 he asserted that Liverpool possessed all the command- 
 ing features of a first-rate port, and was the most 
 eligible place for the arrival and dispatch of packets to 
 America, although it is notorious that the entrance is 
 most dangerous, from the shifting sands with which it 
 abounds, and the sunken and other rocks on the coast 
 between it and Holyhead, and that during four hours 
 of the ebb tide it is only accessible to vessels not much 
 larger than cockboats. To compare Liverpool with 
 the magnificent harbors of the Shannon, Galway Bay, 
 Cork, and Berchaven, is preposterous. The remainder 
 of his evidence is full of error, and can only be exceed- 
 ed by his prejudice; but, so much was it in accordance 
 with the views of the commissioners, that he was ap- 
 pointed by the Admiralty to the command of an 
 expedition sent out in pursuit of Sir John Franklin, 
 and for which he showed himself every way incompe- 
 tent, returning home without orders, when danger he- 
 came apparent, and leaving one of the vessels in his 
 charge in a most precarious situation. For this he was 
 tried by court-martial, and, although acquitted, his 
 conduct has been neither satisfactory to the Admiralty 
 or the public. It was to have been expected that this 
 inquiry would have dissipated the illusion that so long 
 existed in respect to fog or haze being more prevalent 
 on the West than on other parts of the coast. The 
 evidence of Captain William Randall, a gentleman of 
 great ability, and personally acquainted with it for 
 many years, clearly demonstrates, from the bold 
 
 and prominent formation of the West coast, and the 
 deep water to its base, which the Commissioners re- 
 port as rendering it dangerous, that it is utterly 
 incapable of retaining fog, and less likely to pro- 
 duce it than a coast that lies low, and where the sound- 
 ings are well defined. But what is to be thought of a 
 report that describes Berehaven, in Bantry Bay, the 
 most splendid natural harbor in Europe, ' as too nar- 
 row to be made by largo vessels at night or in hazy 
 weather.' How the Commissioners could corae to this 
 conclusion, with the evidence before them of Captain 
 John Washington, a gentleman of great nautical skill, 
 and long conversant with the coast, is very unaccount- 
 able. Does he say the entrance to Berehaven is too 
 narrow 1 No such thing. He describes it as a capa- 
 cious natural harbor, with ample depth of water, and 
 two entrances, and that it is the harbor 'par excillence' 
 of Ireland. And he further says there is no difficulty 
 in making it, a light-ship at the western entrance being 
 all that is required to define it moje clearly by night. 
 This opinion is confirmed by Captain George Evans, 
 who was employed, on the post-office commission in- 
 quiry in 1835, to inspect the harbors on the western 
 coast ; and he says, ' Berehaven is a very fine harbor ; 
 there is no harbor in Ireland equal to it ' ; and he 
 might have added, anywhere else. Liverpool and 
 Holyhead absolutely sink into insignificance when 
 compared with it; and, notwithstanding that there has 
 been £600,000 of public money exptnded, or rather 
 wasted, on the latter, it never ean be a harbor of great 
 utility. At low water spring tides there are only 252 
 acres covered with 2 fathoms, 188 with 4 fathoms, and 
 only 84 with 5 fathoms water, while Berehaven, which 
 has been fully described under that head, has 1900 
 acres with over 5 fathoms at dead low water. The 
 great objection to its being used as a packet station 
 arises from its being so remote from any railway com- 
 munication than from any defect in its naval superior- 
 ity ; but the distance is every da-y diminishing, to 
 bring it in connexion with the Great Southern and 
 Western Railway, and the Mallow and Killarneyjunc 
 tion, just completed, has done much towards accom- 
 plishing this object. The harbors selected by the 
 Commissioners as most eligible for packet stations 
 weie Cork, Long Island Sound, Crookhaven, Dun- 
 manus Bay, Berehaven, Valentia, Tarbert, and Gal- 
 way. Foynes, which was not originally mentioned 
 in the investigation during its progress, showed 
 itself so well qualified for a packet-station, on the 
 S. W. coast of Ireland, but without its assistance, 
 if there were a couple of fast going steamers from 
 one of the western ports, to be dispatched intermedi- 
 ately with Messrs. Collins and Brown's packets, no 
 doubt the government of the United States would 
 pay handsomely for the mails to be catried by them. 
 The report endeavors, as much as possible, to limit 
 the time and space between Holyhead and New 
 York, stating the time to be gained, contrasting it 
 with the south western ports, to be only from 6h. 
 19m. to 9h. 20 m. in their favor; notwithstanding, 
 there cannot be a doubt that the saving of time 
 would be considerably more, and that a steamer, 
 equal in power to Cunard's, dispatched from Galway 
 or the Shannon, would reach New York 36 to 42 
 hours earlier than from Holyhead and Liverpool, 
 and all the dangers of the Irish channel be avoided. 
 The electric telegraph between Holyhead and 
 Dublin is about being completed, and it is in action 
 on the Great Southern and Western, and Midland 
 and Great AVestcrn Railways ; the value of the in- 
 telligence conveyed by such a steamer would be be- 
 yond all calculation, and, combined with the other 
 advantages that the western coast possesses for 
 communication with America, would soon throw 
 the Liverpool line, notwithstanding its government 
 support, in the shade. It may not be uninteresting 
 to give here the particulars of the contracts entered 
 into by the governments of Great Britain and the 
 United States, for the conveyance of the mails be- 
 tween these countries. In 1839, the transmission 
 of the mails by government vessels was discontin- 
 
 ued, and a contract was entered into by the British 
 government with Messrs- Cunard and Co. for that 
 purpose, for which they now receive £145,000 an- 
 nually. The largest of their steamers ia about 
 2,000 tons burden, and of 800 nominal hor.se power; 
 it is 285 feet in length, and draws, fully laden, 
 19 1-2 feet of water. They leave Liverpool every 
 Satnrday from April to November, and every second 
 Saturday from December to March, alternately, via 
 Halifa.x to Boston, and direct to New York, return- 
 ing every Wednesday from May to December, and 
 every [second AVednesday from January to April. 
 Messrs. Collins and Brown's packets leave Liverpool 
 for New York respectively once a fortnight for eight 
 months, and once a month for four months in the 
 year; for the conveyance of the mails, the United 
 States government pays them .f 385,000, or £80,208 
 annually. There are two other lines between New 
 York and Havre, and Bremen and New York, 
 which leave for and return to their respective desti- 
 nations once a month, touching at Southampton. 
 For the conveyance of the mails by the former, the 
 United States government pays .$150,000, or £31,- 
 250, and for the latter, $200,000, or £41,666. Not 
 to have a single steame r on the whole line of the 
 southern and western coast of Ireland, in communi- 
 cation with America, for which it is so admirably 
 circumstanced, is a national disgrace ; nine-tenths 
 of the Irish emigrants for the United States are 
 obliged to proceed to Liverpool at considerable ex- 
 tra expense, to embark there, and it also well ac- 
 counts for the small amount of manufactured goods 
 shipped direct from Ireland to foreign countries, 
 where they must be in considerable demand, par- 
 ticularly Irish linen, cloth and yarn. And here it 
 may be asked, what has become of the Joint Stock 
 Company, with a capital of £500,000, formed at the 
 Mansion House, Dublin, 1851, to ensure a direct 
 steam eommunicatian between Ireland and America ? 
 If Cork, Limerick, and Galway, would cordially 
 unite and, establish a couple of first-rate steamers, 
 under the management of a Joint Stock Company, 
 to be dispatched monthly, from one of these ports 
 in rotation, to New York, a commencement would 
 be made to that direct communication which would 
 soon extend itself, and the country derive incalcu- 
 lable benefit therefrom. The metropolis and Belfast 
 would aid the efforts of these ports, not only in 
 taking shares in the undertaking, but in giving them 
 a preference for their shipments out and home. 
 These steamers should be built for the accomoda- 
 tion of both cabin and steerage passengers, notwith- 
 standing the interested evidence given by Mr. J. B. 
 Moore, a member of the Liverpool Coporation, be- 
 fore the Commissioners, to the contrary. It is the 
 opinion of a man whose judgment cannot be ques- 
 tioned in matters of this kind, Mr. Cornelius Van- 
 derbilt, the commercial king of America, that ocean 
 steamers will pay without the aid of cither one gov- 
 ernment or the other ; and, in confirmation of it, he 
 has established a line of steamers between New 
 York and Havre, to compet" with the post office 
 packets on that station. Why was not Mr. Vander- 
 bilt applied to by the commercial community of the 
 western ports, to assist them in this desirable object, 
 when they failed in persuading a government to do 
 so, that never did, and never will render Ireland a 
 service, should it interfere in the slightest degree 
 with English interests. But no prejudice or hostility 
 can prevent the western coast of Ireland from being 
 one day in close commercial intercourse with the 
 United States. Its extremely westerly position — its 
 proximity to the American continent — its magnifi- 
 cent harbors, now adapting themselves for extensive 
 commerce, by the construction of splendid docks 
 and other accommodation for the largest ships — its 
 water power, fuel, and the other natural advantages 
 it possesses for manufacturing purposes — all must 
 combine to direct the attention of a great com- 
 mercial nation, like the United States, to this coast, 
 and the extensive emigration of the Irish people, 
 who now form no inconsiderable portion of the pop- 
 ulation of the States, will contribute still further to 
 strengthen the link to bind these countries still 
 closer together for their mutual interest and ad- 
 vantage. 
 
184 
 
 miSfl MISCELLANY. 
 
 THE OOUDFINCH, 
 
 Aa rfgarda ila varied colors of l>right tcIIow, 
 btkck, and vermillion, is iho most beauiiful of 
 oar finches, and, at the same time, iho most 
 (elfoplnioncd little rdlon in the cniiro order ; 
 perfectly eogniziint of its beaiiish perfections, it 
 takes eyery opportunitr of dispiuyin); its at- 
 tractions ; bat possessing the most hnrmlrss, 
 UtcIt, and docile habits, we overlook its fiiulis, 
 if anr, and at once admit it to our conlldento 
 The colors of the female (goldfinch re^<eni!'l' 
 those of the mule, both in their dislritiuticii 
 and their markings, only they arc not so bril- 
 liant in their lints, and the red on the furcheud 
 and the chin is soraelimcs clouded with a few 
 black spots. The young have the head brown- 
 ish. There is not much scasonalbe chan^-c in thcj^j 
 plumage, only it is less bri(,'ht in winter, and ||^^ 
 the full beauty is not acquired till the birds are 
 in song. Like the twite, wo seldom observe the 
 (goldfinch unless in the cages of the ' fancy,' 
 and though occasionally met with in a wild 
 State in the county of Dublin, it is always rare, 
 and only increases in numbers as we approach Mcaih. 
 Atone time much more common than at present, the 
 continual forays of the bird catchers have so thinned 
 their numbers that now they are but rarely seen. The 
 habits of the goldfinch, where they occur in plenty, are 
 well worth our attention, and the erolutions of a large 
 flock are interesting in the extreme. Arriving at a 
 field well provided with ' bon chere ' of thistles and 
 ragwort, they sweep round or half across its extent, as 
 if perfectly heedless of the banquet below; approach- 
 ing the extremity, and apparently changing their in- 
 tention, ihcy return, and, suddenly dropping towards 
 the ground, each bird flutters, and shows its beautiful 
 plumage to the best advantage while hovering over 
 the thistles with which the field is covered. In a mo- 
 ment, the entire flock, yielding to the temptntion, are 
 activelv engaged pulling and tearing at the thistles in 
 eoarch of the pericap, whilst all are making the field 
 musical with their blithe, mellow call-notes of satisfac- 
 tion. 
 
 The song of the goldfinch, although pleasing, is de- 
 ficient of the mellow and beautiful modulation of the 
 more humbly attired linnet; and it is. perhaps, chiefly 
 for its plumage and aptness for instruction, that it is 
 such a favorite cage-bird. At times we see its docility 
 painfully turned to advantage in confinement, by caus- 
 ing it to minister to its own wants in drawing op the 
 vessela containing its food and drink, the bird being 
 •ccured bv a chain and a link fustened on the breast, 
 and iu only enjoyment, the complacent admiration of 
 Uclf in the looking-glass attached to the back of the 
 
 TirE IRISH GOLDFINCH. 
 
 cage. Sometimes in winter the goldfinch furnishes a 
 amall contingent to the large flocks of linnets and 
 other species. 
 
 Many can say with Hurdis — 
 
 ' I love to sQc the goldfinch twit and twit. 
 And pick the f^roundiiel's feathered seeds; 
 And tlien. in bower of apple-blossom perch'd 
 Trim his gay suit, and pay us with a fong.' 
 
 This is one of the favorite cage-birds, as well 
 as one of great beauty, in a state of nature. The 
 goldfinch is easily tamed, hardy, lively, capable of 
 being taught many little tricks, and, when properly 
 attended to, almost continually in song. It will 
 live longer in confinement than almost any other of 
 the little birds. For ourselves, however, we have 
 no delight in Imprisoning these beautiful and de- 
 lightful choristers. 
 
 The Green Finch, or green linnet, as it is some- 
 times called, differs from the other finches in the 
 form of its bill, in which it more resembles the spar- 
 rows, but its habits are more like those of the other 
 finches. 
 
 HAROLD'S CROSS. 
 
 Scarcely one mile from the Castle, in the direc- 
 tion of the Grand Canal, is a pleasant village. The 
 air in this neighborhood has long been considered 
 particularly favorable for invalids, and the village 
 has, therefore, been much frequented by persons in 
 a delicate state of health. 
 
 A BIRD AND SERPENT. 
 
 In a combat the bird first seizes the reptile bj 
 Iho neck in its beak. It might not have accom- 
 plinhcd this so readily had not the attention of 
 the snake been occupied by the children, thus 
 throwing it oft' its guard. Having succeeded in 
 seizing the reptile, the bird rose nearly in a 
 vertical direction to a height of many yards, 
 and then, opening its beak, permitted the ser- 
 pent to fall to the ground. His object wa« to 
 stun ihc latter by the fall ; and the more eflectu- 
 ally to do this, he would have carried the cobra 
 siill higher, had not the latter prevented it by 
 attempting to coil itself around his wings. Upon 
 letting fall his prey, the serpent eater did not 
 remain in the air. On the contrary, he darted 
 after the falling reptile, and the moment tho 
 latter touched the ground, and before it could 
 pnt itself in an attitude of defence, the bird 
 ' pounced' upon it with spread foot, striking it 
 a violent blow near the neck. The snake was 
 still but slfghtly damaged', and, throwing itself 
 into a coil, stood upon its defence. Its month 
 was opened to the widest extent, its tongue protruded, 
 its fangs were erect, and its eyes flashing with rage and 
 poison. A terrible antagonist it appeared, and for a 
 moment its opponent seemed to think so, as be stood 
 on the ground confronting it. But the bird soon be- 
 gan to advance upon it for a renewal of the attack, 
 though this advance was made in a cautions manner. 
 With the pinions of one of his strong wings spread 
 broadly out for a shield, he approached the reptile 
 sideways, and, when near enough, suddenly wheeled, 
 turned upon his leg as on a pivot, and atrnck sharply 
 out with his other wing. The blow was delivered with 
 good cflTect. It reached the head of the snake and 
 seemed to stun it. Its neck drooped, and the coils 
 became loosened. Before it could recover itself, it was 
 once more in the beak of the serpent eater, and trailing 
 through the air. This time the bird rose to a much 
 greater height than before, as he was not hampered by 
 the writhing of the serpent, and, as before, suflered the 
 reptile to fall, and then darted suddenly after. When 
 the snake came to the ground a second time, it lay for 
 a moment stretched at fall length, as if stunned or 
 dead. It was not dead, however, and would once 
 more have coiled itself, but, before it could do so, the 
 bird had repeatedly ' pounced' upon its neck with his 
 spread and homy feet ; and at length, watching his 
 opportunity when the head of the serpent lay flat, he 
 struck a blow with his sharp beak so violent that it 
 split the skull of the reptile in twain !j..Life was now 
 extinct, and the hideous form, extended to its fall 
 length, lay lithe and motionless upon the grass. 
 
 IIARuLiJ',~. CROSS. 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 185 
 
 IRISH MISCELLANY 
 
 THOMAS O'NJEtLL I'ropkietoh. 
 
 MICn.\EL J. WALSH Conductob. 
 
 BOSTON, SATURDAY, OCTOBER 30, 1858 
 
 SEE! THE CONQUERING HERO COMES! 
 
 When Frederick the Great endeavored to provide 
 bis army with tall and handsome officers, he found 
 that an unexpected difficulty stood in the way. 
 The officers would fight and kill their brethren 
 in arms as readily as ihey would the enemies of 
 their king. The causes which led to these bloody 
 results were commonly of the most trifling char- 
 acter. Wine, women, play, or wounded vanity, 
 made up most of the causes which led to deeds of 
 murder and suicide. Frederick found that the 
 rage for duelling grew upon the food it ate, and he 
 was not at all disposed to lose his finest officers by 
 allowing them to fight among themselves. So he 
 issued an order, requiring all officers of his army, 
 who would fight duels, to obtain first a written 
 permission from him. The gallant officers were 
 highly pleased; they thought that they had fallen 
 upon a restoration of the good old times, when the 
 scene of a duel between noblemen was frequently 
 graced by the presence of majesty, and when maj- 
 esty itself not seldom deigned to break a lance 
 against a knightly adversary on the field of half 
 mimic, half real battle. So two noblemen arranged 
 the details of a pleasant quarrel, and then went to 
 ask the king's leave to fight it out. Having heard 
 the merits of the case, his majesty told the gentle- 
 men that they were at liberty to fight. He even 
 declared his intention to be present as umpire and. 
 chief judge on the occasion. He named the officers 
 of the day, and selected the ground. The delighted 
 noblemen thought that the days of Charlemagne 
 had returned, and they rode with troops of friends 
 to the field assigned by the king. All of Prussia 
 that could get there was gathered together, you 
 may be sure, for, of course, no secret was made of 
 the coming fight. The king, being seated, the spec- 
 tators all ready, and the officers of the day at their 
 posts, the two gentlemen with their friends entered 
 the lists, and awaited from the king the signal to 
 begin. A gibbet newly erected in a conspicuous 
 part of the field arrested the attention of all pres- 
 ent. It was the work of the preceding night. The 
 noblemen asked the king what that offensive object 
 had to do with the business of the day? 'It may 
 sustain an importaut part,' answered the king. 
 'It is my will to hang upon that gibbet the gentle- 
 man who may kill his adversary in this duel. If 
 you kill each other — well; if not, I will have the 
 survivor hanged!' It is needless to say that the 
 two gentlemen refused to fight under such severe 
 terms. They knew that Frederick would keep his 
 word. He, meanwhile, gained his point, which 
 was to check the practice of duelling among his 
 noblemen. A fight would occasionally happen, 
 but the terms were severe. The conbatants were 
 to fight in such a way as almost to ensure the death 
 of both parties. If by any chance one escaped with 
 life, he was an outlaw, and the gibbet was in read- 
 iness for him should he venture to return to his 
 native land. 
 
 How would it do to apply with relentless severity a 
 law like this to the whole generation of prize fighters 
 who have grown so famous within the few last years ? 
 It seems pretty clear that these fights will take place, 
 and openly, the law and public sentiment to the contrary 
 notwithstanding. It may be a question whether it be 
 not within the legitimate powers of government to give 
 a lawful title to this business of bruising, maiming, 
 and killing in the ring. It would seem, on the one 
 band, that the authorities either cannot, or will not 
 prevent these fights. On the other hand, it is certain 
 that ia old times.and in other lands, at least nominally 
 
 Christian, the sovereign often made the best of a bad 
 business by taking into his own hands the superinten- 
 dence of affairs of honor, as they are sometimes called. 
 He always had an officer of rank who acted as superin- 
 tendent of public fights. The king could make what- 
 ever laws he pleased to regulate the proceedings, 
 although he seldom exhibited the wholesome severity 
 shown by King Frederick. Our sovcrign here, in 
 America, is the people, duly organized into a com- 
 munity, and acting through legally constituted officers. 
 Could they not first pass a law for the better regula- 
 tion of fights, and then save the parties concerned, and 
 the persons who will follow them and look on, the 
 trouble and expense of a journey to Conada 1 Could 
 they not have the fight take place at noonday, on the 
 Park, in the presence of all the fight-loving world, 
 with a clear understanding that if one man survive, he 
 shall be hanged upon a scoifold erected for that pur- 
 pose in the presence of the multitude 1 Would not that 
 be an improvement upon the existing state of things ^ 
 The country would thus get rid of people whom it can 
 well afford to spare. The Kilkenny cats may be 
 damaged by the process, but society would lose noth- 
 ing, to say the least. 
 
 It is not a pleasant subject for contemplation. Two 
 men can ostentatiously make arrangements for a fight 
 which may result in the death of one or both, and so 
 may render each guilty of the crimes of murder and 
 suicide. They can find newspapers willing enough to 
 be their organs, and so their movements are chronicled 
 as carefully as if they deserved favorable notice, and 
 as if they were the formost heroes of the age, — masters 
 of the destines of the world. They know, too, that 
 nearly all the papers, even the very respectable ones 
 will at least notice their doings as mere matters of 
 news. They know that when the time draws near, the 
 public — at least the noisiest portion of it — will be in a 
 state of feverish excitement, and that sums of money, 
 to be counted by hundreds of thousands, will be staked 
 upon the event. They see that, in consequence of all 
 this, excited crowds will be gathered together in the 
 principal cities, and that the telegraph and press will 
 make their names famous, and they are fully aware 
 that, upon the whole, t)ie news of their fight will create 
 as much stir through the length and breadth of the 
 land as did the battles of Buena Vista and Cerro Gordo. 
 And, lastly, they are thoroughly possessed of the 
 fact, that the police and the authorities, generally 
 will, in some way, contrive to let them alone. A 
 New York paper gives a queer reason for this thing. 
 It says that most of the persons interested directly 
 in these fights form a part of the machinery ol gov- 
 ernment. That is, they are employed by leading poli- 
 ticians ' to guard the polls.' ' That is, again, they 
 let such men vote as may be on their side, or on 
 the strongest side, if there be two sets of bullies, 
 and do their utmost to drive from the polls all 
 peaceful citizens who do not like their ways. 
 
 That is, finally, they, the fighters, virtually elect 
 the public functionaries, and are therefore their 
 masters. Of course, they can do what they please 
 under such a state of things. Perhaps the most 
 singular feature of this fighting business is, that 
 journals of good standing print the news, and men, 
 who are known to be utterly opposed to such things, 
 are seen to watch for the tidings ae eagerly as if they 
 had money staked on the event. 
 
 Considering that the system of prize fighting, as 
 managed in our times, is of English origin and 
 growth, and is John Bulldogism out and out, it is 
 .somewhat strange, as well as humiliating, to know 
 that so many of the prominent actors in these scenes 
 are of Irish birth and parentage. It is still more 
 mortifying to know that a question of religion is 
 occasionally involved to a certain extent in these 
 fights. It will be at one time given out that A will 
 defend the honor of Ireland, and B, that of America. 
 At another time, C is understood to be the Catholic 
 champion, and, D, the standard bearer of Protest- 
 antism. This is a most outrageous business. To 
 be sure, it has its quasi com i t side. We remember 
 
 the time when a man who had swallowed more 
 punch than was good for him stood, or tried to 
 stand,in one of the squares of the city, and, having 
 stripped off hia coat and turned up his shirt-sleeves, 
 he challenged all comers to fight, in order to prove 
 that his church, for which he was willing to die, 
 but was not willing to live, was the best church. 
 
 We hope that some efficient measures will be 
 taken to prevent these scenes, but we confess that 
 we hope almost against hope. 
 
 LETTER FROM CAPTAIN THATCHER. 
 
 Knowing the anxiety of our people for the success of 
 direct steam communication between Ireland and the 
 United States, we do not hesitate to place before them 
 a private letter received on the 21st inst. from Captain 
 W. Thatcher. We will take the responsibility of 
 bringing the captain before the pnblic : — 
 
 Liverpool, October S. 
 
 My dear O'Neill— Here we are in the little hooker, eafely 
 arrived, but after some trouble, and a little anxiety. 1 
 know you will be glad to have a line from me, to tell you 
 tbat I made a neat Bpeech on presenting the stick to th© 
 good Father Daly, who is not a little proud of the Jackron 
 Hickory; the Oalway people are enchanted. I send you 
 and Mr Donohue some papers. You will see that Mr. Lever 
 has had a favorable interview with government, so I hope 
 the line will go on and prosper. As 1 told you, the Propeller 
 ia going coasting, and 1 have resigned her command ; but 
 will see you early next year in a vessel that I can be proud 
 of. 1 can assure you that now, and ever through life, the 
 kindness I received from yourself and I'ellow-citizens will 
 be remembered by me as something to be proud of and 
 grateful lor. 
 
 Remember me to Mooney, Glancy, Holly, aad friend 
 Donohue, and all my kind friends. When I go to Boston 
 next spring I will give them a true Irish feast, and bring 
 Mr. Lever with me. All my exertions in London will be to 
 convince that a Boston lihe will be better supported than 
 even the New York one; and 1 am convinced your portion 
 of the community will keep it going ; nor have I a doubt of 
 the complete success of both lines. 
 
 I am very truly yours, 
 
 W. THATCHER. 
 
 The Irish FREsa. — The great object for present 
 consideration for those laboring in the cause of Ire- 
 land and the Irish people in the United States, is the 
 success of the Irish trans-Atlantic Steam Company. 
 Will not the Irish press, in view of this fact, press upon 
 the Postmaster-General the necessity of aiding this line 
 by contracting with the Lever Company for carrying 
 the mails. Already, the British government is satis- 
 fied of the gain to commerce by this line. Mr. Ham- 
 ilton, Secretary of the English Treasury, in reply to a 
 deputation who waited upon him on this subject, 
 made the following remarks : — ' GovemmeDt view 
 with considerable interest the new line of steamers be- 
 tween Galway and the British colonies in North 
 America, established by Mr. Lever, and the impar- 
 lance they attach to being able to communicate be- 
 tween London and Washington in six days.' We 
 tmst, then, that a united sentiment will go forth to 
 the Postmaster-General at Washington to aid and 
 recognise this advance in the interests of commerce, 
 and the desire of our people, who are now no mean 
 element in the United States. 
 
 Our Military Tales. — W^e call the attention of 
 our readers to the first of our military tales, which 
 appears in this number of the Miscellany. They 
 will be continued weekly, each story, if possible, 
 being complete in one number. They are recollec- 
 tions of realities, written from memory years after 
 their occurrence. Some, as that of this week, are 
 of a tragic, sad and melancholy nature, and their 
 recollection brings no joy in remembrance ; but 
 others, as will our next, be of a gayer cast, and 
 force a smile when, in our reveries, the mind recalls 
 the actors and the story of years gone by. They il- 
 lustrate the variety of soldier life, which, through 
 all its vicissitudes, have many pleasing passages, 
 and, amidst all its dangers, the true soldier will 
 dwell upon the brightest spots; although to-day it 
 may be all cloud3,he sees the morrow's sunshine ; if 
 to-day a storm, he sees the coming calm. 
 
186 
 
 IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 Kniertd acoortllni; to Act of Congnts, In the jt»r 18M, by 
 rbomiu iJ'Svllt, iu llie Uistriol Court aniMsaoliuacita. 
 
 KEMINISCEXCES OF TIIK 
 
 LIFE IF k ULilE^, 
 
 — IM THE — 
 
 ENGLISH AND AMEKICAN SERVICES. 
 
 BY THOMAS O'NEILI,. 
 
 DEDICATED TO GENERAL JAMES SHIELDS. 
 
 TIIK 81'ICIDE, 
 
 Jeremiah Kyaii w«s a native of Curriek-oii-Suir, 
 near C'loiimel, in the eountj- of Tiiiperiiry, Irclimd. 
 
 He enlisted in the regiment of llussurs, in the 
 
 year 183-, and for intelligence, aptitude to learn, 
 and plea.sunt, light-hearted disposition, no man 
 could surpa^ him. Prompt at drill and parade, 
 he was ever regular in the performance of the duties 
 assigned him. His powers of conversation, which 
 were great, his ready wit, together with being an 
 excellent singer, made him a general favorite. For 
 one, I early became warmly attached to him, and 
 while he lived he reckoned me among his most inti- 
 ni ate friends and conlidants. 
 
 He was well read, and versed in the history of 
 Ireland— a genuine nationalist. Whenever called 
 upon for a song, he always had one with a national 
 sentiment ready at the tip of his tongue — • The 
 Glories of Urien the Urave," ' before the Battle,' 
 'The Minstrel Boy," or something of that nature. 
 lie was great at declamation, or reciting pieces — a 
 practice quite common in England. In this his na- 
 tional feelings would always suggest the topic ; 
 among his favorites I remember were 'The Battle of 
 Aughrim,' 'The sword of former times,' or ' Em- 
 mett's immortal speech before the bloody-minded 
 Norbury.' 
 
 The nomes of Tone, and Eramett, and Lord Ed- 
 ward Fitzgerald, were ever on his lips, in words of 
 loving devotion. Their characters, designs, and 
 doings, formed his ideal of patriotic perfection. To 
 him the cause of these men was righteousness e.x- 
 emplitied, their examples, the only ones befitting a 
 true Irishman to follow. It was quite evident to 
 those who knew him intimately that he was fit for 
 any tnasonable design or plot which would tend to 
 separate the connection between the two countries. 
 He used no means to disguise his sentiments or cloak 
 liis principles. 
 
 Punctual and strict in the discharge of his du- 
 ties, it was seldom that he gave cause for fault-find- 
 ing, and whenever a non-commissioned officer 
 would complain, a< they did sometimes, unnecessar- 
 ily, he was sure to come out right, and fling back 
 their indignity with haughty scorn or contemptuous I 
 disregard. lie believed that discipline was a neces- i 
 Fary element of good order and authority; legitimate- 
 ly enforcing it, entitled to respect. Hut tyranny he ' 
 regarded as an usurpation of undue authority, and 
 therefore to be resisted. 
 
 I frequently endeavored to argue with him upon 
 the seeming inconsistency of his conduct and his 
 avowed principles, and at length, one day, asked 
 him, pointedly, why, with his intense hatred of 
 everything English, he did not emigrate to America, 
 instead of entering the British army. I shall never 
 forget the vchem.'nce of his reply. He dwelt pas- 
 sionately and feelingly upon the long catalogue of 
 Irish wrong which he would repeat like a litany. 
 He inveighed bitterly upon the effects of Saxon rule, 
 wherever it held sway. He uttered curses, both 
 loud and deep, upon those who fanned the dissen- 
 tions of the people, and kept them weak and di- 
 vided. Churchmen of all creeds shared about 
 equally in his sweeping tirade. He could not see 
 •why men could not worship their common God at 
 differtnt altars, and yet agree to fling the tyrant 
 that equally oppressed them beyond the Irish seas. 
 . Go to America !' he exclaimed, • for what ? to 
 nurse through life my hatred of English tyranny, 
 
 and die in despair in the land of the red man. But These outbursU of treasonable language had frc- 
 
 no,' he went on. • 'tis no longer the land of the red quently to be checked, such conversalionB being 
 
 man; a merciless civilization has driven him beyond siriclly prohibited. At length, Mr. liyan became a 
 
 its borders, because he would not, or, in his nature, marked man. 
 
 could not, conform to its creeds and usages. Were Gne afternoon he was severely taken to task by 
 
 it still his, and protected by his valor, and the pros- tJie troop sergeant major, who advised him to drop 
 
 pcct that he would smoke his pipe in piece above politics and leave their discussion to others. 'Sold- 
 
 my grave, while the free winds of heaven were sing- ier*,' said he, ' are required to be mere automatom. 
 
 ing their requium over the exile's last resting place, I never knew,' he added, ' a man who was either a 
 
 there would then be something congenial to my politician or a religious tontraversalist to get on 
 
 si)irit in the idea, something to induce me to tolerate «'*'• >" the army. The first is generally regarded as 
 
 it, but as it is, I cannot. Am I not nursing my a fool, while the latter is esteemed a knave. Still 
 
 hatred now ; That oath of allegiance, you allude better is a soldier fitted for his calling, if he is with- 
 
 to, which I have taken, what of it ,- Ah ! it is well out relatives or preferences for any particular coun- 
 
 enough against foreigners, but when the holy cause try or principles. Take my honest advice, keep 
 
 of my country, the cause of right against wrong, yourself from having either creditors or debtors, 
 
 of truth against perjury, of liberty against usurpa- have a civil tongue and keep a good oil rag, I pledge 
 
 tion and tyranny, demands the services of her vota- you my experience that you will get along well in 
 
 ries, I know then its value, and I know then that the army." Ryan, in reply, remarked, 'That if to 
 
 un Irishman in arms will be better than fifty with- become a good soldier, it was necessary to abdicate 
 
 out them.' the right of thinking, sooner than to become so 
 
 His hasty temper and quick irratibility could ill mean a thing, he would, if no other source availed, 
 
 brook the slightest indignity which the thoughtless deliberately blow out his brains, and so maintain 
 
 tyranny of petty authority will sometimes inflict this right of thought, by ending the power of exer- 
 
 upon those subordinate to it. His prompt resent- cisingit.' 
 
 ment often exposed him to censure, and occasion- '^'^"^ conversation was continued in rather a jocu- 
 
 ally to punishment, which he endured ivith the indif- '*"■ s^train, the sergeant major observing that he must 
 
 ference of a stoic, and the firmness of a martyr suf- "°' ^'°"' '''*' '""ains out, as that would be a misde- 
 
 fering for conscience sake. If ever an Irishman mcanor, his brains, of right, belonging to the gov- 
 
 lived, who felt, to the innerpiost core of his heart, "nment, who would doubtless find better use for 
 
 the deep degradation of his country, I believe poor ' ""-'™ *^'"' '" ^"^'^ t'^"^"" scattered about the barrack 
 
 Ryan did. Often have I heard him expatiate feel- ! ?*''''• Besides, he then thought that his brains 
 
 ingly and eloquently upon the impossibility of a I would not long trouble him, as it was talked at the 
 
 permanent union between tha two countries, with- I House Guards of sending the regiment to India. 
 
 out a reciprocity of interests, and a diifusion of 
 equal laws. And yet he believed that such a union 
 could never be effected ; the races, he would say, 
 are as distinctly different as the African and the 
 red man ; their mutual interest can only be ser%'ed 
 by honest rivalship. He entertained but little hope 
 of Irish freedom while the interests of England stim- 
 
 A few days after this conversation, Ryan delib- 
 erately gave away his kit, and took a friendly leave 
 of his comrades. When night came on he was mis- 
 sing, nor was he found tor nearly two years after- 
 wards, when he was recognised in London, arrested 
 as a deserter, brought back, tried by court martial, 
 and sentenced to three months solitary confinement. 
 
 ulatedher to keep the people at variance on the I ^^"^ '^""^'^ °"'°''P"*°" '" Sood health, but soincens- 
 subject of religion. ' Irish religion,' he would say, I <=<i against military servitude,that he resolved not to 
 ' was well defined by Dean Swift, to be ■ cutting ' soldier another year, let what would be the sacrifice, 
 each others throats for tlie love of God." j ^^ continued the usual quarrels with the non-com- 
 
 Our hero was frequently taken to ta.^k bj English- j missioned officers. Though not averse to the per- 
 men, who believed that there was a union, and that formancc of the regular duties of his station, his 
 the union was of mutual benefit, upon which much i ^P'"' ^belled against the msnner in which his or- 
 of their prosperity and strength depended. To these \ "^"'^ '■'■'"'' conveyed to him by those petty tyrants, as 
 he would reply :— he styled them. 
 
 , ,,,, . ■ . . ^ . .L . 1 ■ One Saturday afternoon he was about to proceed 
 
 ' Ihere is no union of interests, the true relation- . , , , . 
 
 ,. ^ ...... to town for pleasure, and had already dressed him- 
 
 ship at present existing is that of the strong against i , , , , , 
 
 self for the purjjosc, when the orderly sergeant 
 
 the weak, the right ot might; the odds are all in 
 favor of England. She is like a vampire, sucking 
 the life-blood out of her victim, draining her every 
 resource without remuneration. The very land of 
 Ireland is held by the English, or those mongrel 
 Irish devoted to the service and supremacy of Eng- 
 land. 'I'hc income derived from the cultivation of 
 the land is squandered in London. The country is 
 saddled wi»h the support of an English church, es- 
 tablished by law and German bayonets. The par- 
 liamentary representation is unequal, trade and 
 manufactures discouraged. In short, every right, 
 but the right to starve, is wrenched from the Irish 
 people by that same accursed 'act of union,' so- 
 cal led. This union was never assented to by the 
 Irish people. They were not consulted about it. It 
 was corruptly purchased by the English, and basely 
 treacherously.sold by the Irish lords and aristocrats. 
 
 ordered him to ' fatigue duty,' to dig up the riding 
 school. lie felt the disappointment greatly, and 
 said that it was out of his turn to perform that 
 duty. The sergeant — who was no fr'.end of his — 
 would hearken to no remonstrance, but, in a peremp- 
 tory manner, ordered him to perform the duty, then 
 find fault, and seek redress afterwards. Several of 
 his troop-mates offered to take his place, but he po- 
 litely declined, thanking them, and saying, 'I have 
 ever performed my duty, and will to the end of the 
 chapter, which is now nearly closed.' 
 
 Being dressed as above stated, to meet asocial or" 
 ' free and easy ' gathering, he now put on a fa- 
 tigue dress, and at once proceeded to the riding 
 school, where, with about twenty others, he dug up 
 the tan, and loosened the ride. During the per- 
 formance of this work he had some angry words 
 
 , , , , ,, , , with the scrgcan',, who was anything but affably 
 
 and what IS more, the people are compelled to pay i ,. , . , • ,i 
 
 ,. , , -,., . . ■; I disposed at any time, or towards any one, especially 
 
 was he unkind to Ryan, who would not take a word 
 of reprimand from the colonel, unless exemplified in 
 a becoming tone and manner. He now declared 
 that he would not soldier under him any longer. 
 He then left the riding school, as the men thought, 
 for the guard room. On being asked if he had fin- 
 ished at the riding school, he replied he would be 
 in a few minutes. Throwing a cloak upon his arm, he 
 proceeded to the stables, where he loaded his horse 
 
 the price at which then liberties were bartered 
 away.' Thus he would declaim, and then, as if to 
 settle the question, he would ejk, ' Whence the 
 necessity for keepidg up a garrison of fifty thousand 
 soldiers in Ireland r' and then, as ii reply, he would 
 repeat the lines : — 
 
 ' Yea, unprized are her sons till they Icam to betray.' 
 * Onward Ihf green banner bearing, 
 (jo tivfU every Hwurd to the hlU; 
 irtue and Erin, 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 187 
 
 pistol, from thence he proceeded to the riding school, 
 and,. before nil the men, iibused the BcrRonnt pretty 
 freely, calling him a sweep, and adding, ' I once 
 thought of shooting you, but it was for a moment 
 only; jou are not worth a ball. Live, slave, and be 
 miserable. Every man must dislike you, execrate 
 you. The colonel has committed a gross error in 
 placing, such a man as you over intelligent spirited 
 men.' He then drew the pistol from under his 
 cloak, and placing the muzzle beneath his chin, 
 pulled the trigger, and fell — a corpse. 
 
 A jury of inquest being held, a verdict of ' self- 
 destruction ' was rendered, a^d he was buried with- 
 out the honors of war. 
 
 Thus died a fine young man, sincerely devoted to 
 the land of his birth, national to the heart's core, 
 impetuous in his disposition, unheeding in his prin- 
 ciples, stern in hate, faithful and devoted in friend- 
 ship ; he was quick in resentment, and could never 
 forgive an indignity even from the highest ; too 
 nice.perhaps, in his sense of self-respect, for the po- 
 sition in which fate had placed him. He had his 
 faults ; let them rest under the sod which covers his 
 mortal remains. 
 
 In a few days after this melancholy occurrence, 
 the colonel sent for the sergeant, and gave him the 
 alternative of reduction to the ranks, or a court mar- 
 tial. He preferred to take the stripes off his arm. 
 But his life became a misery to him, for the men 
 seized every opportunity of treating him with the 
 greatest contumely and insult. Upon his own ap- 
 plication.he was transferred to the Emniskillen Dra- 
 goons, but his character had preceded him, and the 
 men made his life anything but happy; so miserable 
 in fact did they make him that he finally applied for 
 and obtained his discharge from the service, to which 
 he was neither an honor nor an ornament. 
 
 IWritten for the Miscellany.] 
 NOTES FROM A JOURNAL. 
 
 BT J. E. F. 
 
 No. 14. — Glasnevin and Mount Jerome. 
 
 After an early breakfast, we visited the Phccnix 
 Park, where a large number of troops were being 
 reviewed by the Lord Lieutenant. The Park, on a 
 review day, presents a beautiful appearance. The 
 many carriages of the gentry, the bright colors of 
 the different regiments, the splendid trappings of 
 the cavalry, glistening in the sunlight, and the 
 Park itself in its rich mantle of green, gives you a 
 picture not often met with. In the Park are the 
 Zoological Gardens, the admission to which is six- 
 pence on week days, but on Sunday afternoons it is 
 reduced to a penny. They will well repay a visitor, 
 though of course they are not so extensive as those 
 in London. There is a camel here which was cap- 
 tured from the Russians at Alma. 
 
 Leaving the Gardens, we proceeded to the village 
 of Glasnevin, some two miles from the city. Here 
 we visited the cemetery, rendered sacred by con- 
 taining the ashes of two of Erin's most gifted ora- 
 tors, O'Connell and Curran. The temporary tomb 
 of O'Connell is in the centre of an enclosure con- 
 taining some of the rarest flowers in the world, and 
 is surmounted by a monument in imitation of 
 marble. The sexton opened the door of the vault, 
 and we saw his coffin covered with crimson velvet, 
 ornamented with lace, with some fresh sprigs of 
 laurel laid upon it! His remains are embalmed 
 and placed in a lead coffin, and outside of this are 
 two of wood. 
 
 Going underneath the enclosure, we saw on an 
 iron door, in raised gilt letters, the words, 'Honest 
 Tom Steele." How simple and yet how touching ! 
 Here lies the companion and henchman of O'Con- 
 nell; the man who spent his property for 'Ould Ire- 
 land and Kepale,' as he used to say. A warmer 
 lover of his country, or a truer friend in her cause, 
 never breathed than was poor Tom. His epitaph 
 was rightly chosen, and all that was ever written 
 
 would not suit him any better. He now sleeps his 
 last sleep within a few feet of the great 'Liberator,' 
 whom he loved so well. 
 
 The sexton opened the tombs of many persons, 
 priests and laymen, and we saw many splendid 
 coffins in a good state of preservation. This is 
 truly a pretty place, and you meet objects of beauty 
 at every turn. 
 
 This spot not being the final restingplace of 
 O'Connell, we viewed the place that is to be. This 
 is a platform about one hundred feet square, and is 
 to contain an ecclesiastical group frequently met 
 with throughout Ireland, viz; a chapel, ornament- 
 ed cross, and round tower, of the earliest Chris- 
 tian architecture, and of the proper proportions. 
 The entire is to be composed of dressed granite. 
 The tower is not yet completed, but we entered the 
 vault that will ere long contain the Liberator's re- 
 mains. 
 
 Turning a little to the right, we stopped before 
 the tomb of Curran. This is in the form of a sar- 
 cophagus, wit;h simply the words 'Curran. born 
 1750, died 1817, aged 67.' He died in England, 
 and lay buried there 19 years ere Ireland claimed 
 the bones of her distinguished orator and patriot, 
 and raised over them this memento. Gazing on it 
 we can recall the diminutive figure, abrupt gesture, 
 strange grimace, and flashing eye, through which 
 that soul of genius electrified his auditory, and 
 which have now departed, or are mouldering away 
 beneath those stones? 
 
 At the house near the gate we wrote our names 
 and our residences, when at home, in a book kept 
 for the purpose, and on looking at the list of names 
 noticed quite a number who hailed from the United 
 States. 
 
 After dinner at the 'Angel,' we proceeded by rail 
 to Kingstown. This is a very handsome place, and 
 the railroad leads by the side of the Bay of Dublin, 
 through the magnif cent environs on that side of 
 the city. The town is named in honor of the visit 
 at George IV., in 1821, and to commemorate the 
 event there is a small obelisk erected at the south 
 side of the town. Kingstown, from the beauty of 
 its situation, the salubrity of its air, and the pictu- 
 resque country around, is much frequented as a 
 watering place. The town has some splendid 
 hotels, villas, and terraces, and has a fine harbor. 
 
 Returning to Dublin, we jaunting-car'd our way 
 through the city by Merrion Square, Stephen's 
 Green, Portobello, and Harold's Cross, to Mount 
 Jerome Cemetery, the burial-place of Thomas Davis, 
 the poet and patriot, and one of the early founders 
 of the 'Nation.' "We walked nearly all over this 
 cemetery, in order to find his grave, as but few 
 know it, for there is nothing to indicate wherein 
 sleeps one of Erin's truest and most gifted sons. 
 After enquiring of a great many persons, we at last 
 found it. He is buried in the company's vault, and, 
 as he himself wished, on 
 
 'An Irish green hill-side.' 
 
 The vault is near the chapel, and, the door being 
 locked, we climbed up over it, and could see the 
 inside. There were several slabs on the side, but 
 his name is on none of them. The sexton told us 
 that there was a subscription talked of some time 
 ago, for the purpose of erecting a tomb to enclose 
 his remains, but lately he had heard nothing about 
 it. 
 
 This cemetery is nearly as handsome as Glas- 
 nevin, and boasts some beautiful works of .sculp- 
 ture. It is farther from the city than Glasnevin, 
 and is but a short distance from the spot where 
 Robert Emmet was arrested during his residence at 
 Harold's Cross. 
 
 On our way back we drove through Aungeir 
 street, passing by No. 12, a plain, quaint-looking 
 house, now; as at the time of the poet's birth, used 
 as a grocery establishment, rendered famous as the 
 house in which Thomas Moore first saw the light. 
 
 In the graveyard attached to the Werburg street 
 church is a vault in which arc the remains of yet 
 another of Erin's martyrs on the altar of freedom, 
 Lord Edward Fitzgerald. As I stood gazing at this 
 plain vault, scarcely distinguishable from those 
 around it, I was astonished that those who prate 
 loudest about Erin's wrongs would not raise a 
 suitable monument to her heroic defender and 
 martyr. Lord Edward Fitzgerald. 
 
 In the evening, at the Theatre Koyal, we saw 
 
 good acting, and had the pleasure of seeing little 
 
 Cordelia Howard in the 'Strawberry Girl,' who is 
 
 travelling under the management of P. T. Barniun. 
 
 (Concluded in our next.^ 
 
 John or the Bridge. — John Flannagan, a true 
 Irishman, born at TuUamore, iu the King's County, 
 on the 22d of June, 17G4, died in 1856, at the ad- 
 vanced age of ninety-two years. In 1798, during the 
 struggles of Ireland, he was instrumental, in the hands 
 of Providence, in saving the lives of some thousands 
 of his proscribed countrymen, who had taken np arms 
 in defence of their civil and religious freedom. After 
 the battle of Munstereven, when they had been de- 
 feated by the king's troops, they broke open a distil- 
 lery belonging to one Sir John Cassidy, and, in the 
 hopelessness of their case, abandoned themselves to 
 the most reckless intemperance. The militia and in- 
 fantry, who had been severely punished throngh the 
 heroic bravery of these insurgents, had drawn off to 
 some distance, although masters of the field, and were 
 in a measure constrained to permit them to withdraw 
 from the town in a body, after they had satiated their 
 thirst in the manner already mentioned. When about 
 ten miles from the scene of action, however, and in the 
 midst of a bog through which a tributary of the river 
 Barrow ran, they crossed a small temporary bridge, 
 and overcome by fatigue and the effects of their de- 
 bauch, gained, something better than a musket-shot 
 from the deep river's edge, a sloping, grassy plot, 
 where, regardless of everything earthly, and without a 
 single sentinel to keep watch over their slumbers, they 
 all sank to sleep, with their almost useless arms scat- 
 tered about in hopeless confusion. There was one 
 eye and heart, however, which marked and pitied their 
 helpless condition. John Flannagan was at his daily 
 labor near the bridge they had just passed, and he dis- 
 covered at once that their situation wts most perilous, 
 should the enemy be on their track. He knew that 
 from the face of turf boats constantly passing and re- 
 passing, there was for a distance of nearly forty miles 
 but one bridge upon that river, and felt that if that 
 bridge were once destroyed, no horse or foot soldier 
 could approach the spot where the helpless multitude 
 lay, as there were no materials to be found in a region 
 so wild and inhospitable to construct iinother. His 
 resolve was taken, and, at the risk of being discovered, 
 he at once set to work and undermined the upright 
 which sustained the whole structure, until, in the 
 course of about two hours, he had the unspeakable joy 
 of seeing it precipitated bodily into the water, and 
 swept away with a spetd that insured his total success. 
 Scarcely had he completed his patriotic and humane 
 task, until down came some companies of the 7th and 
 9ih Dragoons, and four corps of Horse Yeomanry, to 
 finish the work of extermination began in the morn- 
 ing. But what was their rage and disappointment to 
 find the bridge totally gone, and their intended vic- 
 tims lying in perfect security out of the range of their 
 carbines. Flanniigan was sharply interrogated, but it 
 being a reasonable presumtion that the Irish had de- 
 stroyed the bridge after passing it, his life was spared. 
 Shttrlly afterwards, the insurgents, becoming sober 
 and refreshed with slumber, were apprised of their 
 miraculou.s escape, as the regular troops were obliged 
 to return to Munstereven, not wishing to attempt a 
 dangerous journey of forty miles to gratify their thirst 
 for blood. As may be readily supposed, Flannagan 
 was their idol for many a year. Shall no tombstone 
 tell where lies 'John of the Bridget' 
 
188 
 
 rpiSH MISCELLANY. 
 
 THE TUREE HOSES. 
 
 Jast wh«n the re<1 June ro»cs blov 
 She KHvr nic one a )ear »go. 
 A roiT wluiw crimson bremli reveal'd 
 The wcret that its heart ooiicealetl; 
 Aud whow halffihy, hair tender grace, 
 Iiliii«hed back upon the fiver's fhco. 
 
 A year axo — a > ear ago — 
 
 To hope was uot to kuow. 
 
 Just when the red June roses blow 
 
 I ptueked her one a month ago, 
 
 It^ hali-blowD oriimou to eclipse, 
 
 I tnid it nu her snuling lips; 
 
 The balmy Iragrauce oftlie south 
 
 Drew siveetiiesj fnim her sweeter mouth. 
 
 Swil^ly do golden hours creep — 
 
 To hold is not to keep. 
 
 The red June roses now are past — 
 
 This very day I broke the la>t, 
 
 And now its perfUm'd breath is hid, 
 
 With her beuealh a colhn lidj 
 
 There will its |>eials fall apart, 
 
 And wither on her icy lieart; 
 At three red roses' cost 
 My world was gain'U and lost. 
 
 StEAU COMMMINICATION BETWEEN IRELAND AND 
 
 Australia. — A company hits Intcly been formed in 
 London with a capitrtl of £3hi 000 for the establish- 
 ment of regular steam commnnication between Cork 
 and Aasimlin. Clipper screw steamers, to be ex- [ 
 prcssly constructed for this line, have already been 
 contracted for. London, being the emporiam of the 
 Pacific trade, is to be the terminal station ; bat to 
 afford the fullest time for the embarkation of mails and 
 passengers, the ultimate departure will be from Queens- 
 town, which will give an advantage of thirly-six hours 
 over any port now resorted to. The Great Southern 
 and We.stcm Uailway Company have promised to 
 Assist the undertaking by facilities of traffic over their 
 line. 
 
 The route proposed is the fl^estem one, via 
 Panama, stopping at the Azores as a mid Atlantic 
 •tation for coaling. It is computed that the passage 
 from Melbourne or Sydney to Panama under favorable 
 circumstances will not occupy more than twenly-five 
 days, and from Panama to England fifteen days, mak- 
 ing a total of forty days only, while the maximum 
 may be fixed at forty-five days. The selection of 
 Quecnstown as the ultimate port of departure, while 
 important in a local and national point of view, is also 
 one made on the clcareat and most conclusive evidence 
 of in immense advantage as a terminus for Australian 
 and Pacific communication. The evidence taken before 
 the Commons' committee of 1851 is decisive in favor 
 . of the westcrti roate. Captain Sir Edward Belcher, 
 R. N., the eminent commander of the last Arctic ex- 
 pedition, states that the Panama route is by far to be 
 preferred, the passage out being secure and smooth, and 
 the return not liable to so many dangers as either of 
 the other routes. On licing asked the difference of 
 distance between the voyage homeward round Cape 
 Horn and the route by the Cape of Good Hope, he 
 replied — ' I have not computed the distance, bat I 
 believe a sailing vessel would get home from Van 
 Dieman's Land, or rather from Wellington, round 
 Cape Horn, long bcfors a steamer would gc^ home by 
 the Cape. On the question of actual mileage, the 
 Pacific route presents considerable advantages, while 
 the very favorable navigation of the line may fairly be 
 considered equal to a reduction of two thousand miles. 
 The following ii a comparative statement of the dis- 
 tances on the two overland routes now adopted and 
 that proposed by the company. Pacific route : — 
 Queenstown to Colon, deducting 300 miles for advan- 
 tage of offing, 4,282 miles; Colon to Panama, 40; 
 Panama to Melbourne, 6,724: total, 11,046. Mel- 
 bourne to Adelaide, .V33; Queenstown to Adelaide, 
 11,579. Panama to Sydney. 6,574. Queenstown to 
 Sydney, 10,996. Sydney to Morcton Bay, 540 ; 
 Queenstown to Moreton Bay, 11,436. Route via 
 Marseilles and Suez : Dover to Alexandria, 2,277 ; 
 Alexandria to Suez, 238 ; Suez to Melboame, 8,822. 
 Dover to Melbourne, ll,.^?. Melboame to Sydney, 
 600; Dover to Sydney, 11,937. Via Straits of Gibral- 
 tar : — Southampton to Malta, 2,160; Malta to Mel- 
 bourne, 9,879; Sonthampton to Melbourne, 12,049; 
 Melbourne to Sydney, 800 ; SoDthamptoa to Sydney, 
 12,639.— [Irish Vindicator. 
 
 [From the Dublin Kallon.] 
 ETHNOLOCV. 
 
 August 12, 1868. 
 To the Editor of the Dublin Nation: — 
 
 Sir — A few weeks ago the Nation contoined some 
 important comments on ethnology, and as 1 hope to 
 see this subject suitably treated in your Celtic De- 
 partment, I take the liberty of suggesting to you 
 and your learned correspondent, that such ethno- 
 logical maps as the one published in the Belfast 
 ArchoDological Journal of October last would be a 
 most desirable preliminary acquisition to the study 
 of a subject which is mystified rather than eluci- 
 dated by the dogmatic style which ethnologists 
 in Pinkcrton'a times, and which still adheres to 
 to many of our modem expositors. Thus Sir Rod- 
 erick Murchison culls the Celts a 'zanthous race,' 
 whilst other authorities say that the dark complex- 
 ion is inherent in the Celtic race. 
 
 From Doctor Wilde's lectures, which he deliv- 
 ered fifteen years ago, I perceived that this contro- 
 versy about complexion was pursued with great 
 vehemence by the ethnologists, who discussed the 
 merits and characteristics of the Fir Bolgs, Tuath 
 de Danans, and Milesians. Some authorities held 
 that dark complexions indicated the absence of a 
 taste for music and of all generous qualities. 
 Molyneaux, in his 'Case for Ireland Stated,' as- 
 serted that the old Irish race was extirpated, and 
 claimed justice for the Irish of his day, on the 
 grounds that they were all of British extraction. 
 The ethnologist is still making up some kind of a 
 case, like Molyneux, for the world's admiration or 
 pity; but this may very well be left to the poets 
 who know what wonderful perfections Virgil be- 
 stowed on the Celtic Queen Camilla, and discover 
 in the hiresuit man, Esau, and the smooth man, 
 Jacob, types of two races ever ready to express 
 their mental antiquity by words and deeds. 
 
 Five years ago Lord Eglinton and his Scottish 
 compatriots put forward the claims of their country 
 in language very like that which the correspondent 
 of the Globe now uses in praise of Brittany. Has 
 the correspondent oeen inspired by the 'perfervidura 
 ingenium Scotorum,' and does he mean to get up a 
 national movement? Writing from Cherbourg, he 
 remarks that 'Brittany boasts of never being con- 
 quered by cither France or England, both of which 
 crowns only got hold of it by marriages, and that 
 the old land of Armorica is justly proud of its 
 sturdy independence through centuries of vicissi- 
 tude. The Duguesclin was the John O'Gaunt of 
 his day; its Dugnay Tronin was the first of France's 
 naval defenders; its Abclard was the earliest cham- 
 pion of free inquiry, and its Descartes was the 
 Bacon of continental philosophy." Contrast this 
 with the spirit in which English reporters have 
 written when Ireland was the theme: — 
 
 ' What can he tell who treads thy shore ! 
 yo legend of tliiue olden time — 
 No theme on which the Muse might soar 
 High as thine own in days of yore, 
 When man was worthy of thy clime.' 
 
 The .Times reporter, who was commissioned by 
 the Thunderer, some thirteen years ago, to enlighten 
 the world on the ethnology of the Irish, arrived a 
 la Strongbow, in Wexford, and favored the Stronb- 
 bownion race, as he called the men of Forth and 
 Bargy, with his earliest attention; he then went to 
 Dcrrynane, and drew a contrast between them and 
 the Celts of that locality. Afterwards he inspected 
 the counties of Fermanagh and Leitrim, and, like 
 Plutarch, drew parallel lines of the Enniskilleners 
 and men of Breffny. Such buffoonery may form an 
 episode in the ethnologists narrative when he de- 
 sires to show what ethnology is not. I hope to see 
 in your journal what is the present state of knowl- 
 edge on the subject, and the results which its ap- 
 plication to Ireland would naturally bring out. 
 
 /. M. 
 
 John Chinaman — The way he Fiohtb. — A cor- 
 respondent writes, ' I have seen the arms uied by 
 the Chinese in the fight at the storming of the ports 
 at the mouth of the Peiho. The first sight of them 
 shows the utter helplessness of this vast empire of 
 360,000,000 of population when it comes into con- 
 tact with European science and arms ond discipline 
 on the battlefield. They reminded me of the scenes 
 of my boyhood, when all the lads of my country 
 village were armed with wooden guns, furnished 
 with wooden locks and flints, which could snap, if 
 they could not fire. They ore ignorant of the rifle, 
 the percussion cap, and even of the flint, once used 
 in its place. The gun is a matchlock, and of such 
 formidable dimensions and weight as to need wheels 
 to carry it instead of their own shoulders. It is al- 
 most impossible to raise and level it, such is its 
 weight, and often another man, kneeling before him 
 who loads and Ires, bears the end of the gun upon 
 his shoulder, in the happy consciousness that if the 
 enemy chooses to kill him instead of the soldier at 
 the other end of the gun he is innocent of any man's 
 blood, and could not but be. And those match- 
 locks ! they are worthy of a place in any antiqua- 
 rian museum. Almost would the old Knights Temp- 
 lar of Malta start up again should these matchlock 
 guns be placed in the gallery besides their armor. 
 The matchlocks in combersomenessis fairly in keep- 
 ing with the barrel and stock ; some inflammable 
 material which is kept burning, taking the place of 
 a flint in a common gun, and coming down like the 
 tail of the comet when the tedious process of load- 
 ing is completed. Then there is the spears not to 
 be used by the hand in fight, but slender and armed 
 with an iron point, and fired with rockets. Then 
 comes the battle-axe, not heavy, and easily wielded 
 by the hand, but u-ieless except in close contact, 
 and then powerless compared with the sword and 
 the bayonet. Their cannon are either sunk in the 
 earth, and permanently levelled, or else mounted on 
 carriages which provide for no elevation or depres- 
 sion of the guns, or else make it so slow and diffi- 
 cult that after all the carriage is useless. In the at- 
 tack on the forts one of the steam gun-boats came 
 within range of the guns, and received several shots. 
 Very strangely and unlike a soldier ond gentleman, 
 OS John Chinaman thought, the Englishman did not 
 cho^e to remain in range, and presto ! with a puff 
 of steam was out of the reach of their guns, though 
 almost touching their nozzles.' 
 
 A correspondent of an exchange, reflecting on the sad 
 fate of the missing a:ronaut, has been 'induced to 
 compute the time he would be in falling to the earth ; 
 his mean velocity, as well as the momentum with 
 which he would strike the earth. His elevation was 
 thought to be three miles when he was last seen, ond 
 assuming this to be distance he fell, it would only re- 
 quire 31 1-2 seconds for him to reach the earth, at a 
 mean velocity of 495 feet per second. Assuming his 
 weight to be 160 pounds, he would strike the earth 
 with a momeniom equal to 150,800 pounds, or a little 
 more than 80 tons, a power sufficient to scatter his 
 body, bone and muscle into atoms so minute as scarce- 
 ly to be perceptible, if not to bury him deep in the earth.' 
 
 Thb London Shipping Gazette is informed that 
 Lord Bury leaves Galway in o week or two for 
 British North Americo, with instructions from the 
 Colonial office to obtain the opinions of the Legisla- 
 tures and people of Canada, Nova Scotio and New 
 Brunswick, on the subject of a confederation. 
 
 This is significant that he believes travelling by 
 the shortest route. 
 
 The papers publish a despatch from Lord Can- 
 ning, Governor Geneial of India, in response to 
 Lord Ellenborough's despatch. Canning complains 
 of the treatment he has experienced ; defends his 
 policy, and asks to be relieved if he has now failed 
 to satisfy the Oovertnnent. 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 189 
 
 FOREIGN INTELLIGENCE. 
 
 lUELAND. 
 
 Emancipation of soifs in Russia, and no sign of it 
 let in IrvUnd — 'a country ei jujinf; the blessings of the 
 boasted British Constiiutioii!' Will anyone tell us 
 that an Irish tenant-at-nill is not, to nil intents and 
 purposes, a serf? CaD ho do an} thing without the 
 bidding of the master that owns him? Can he vote 
 according to his conscience, or in any other way than 
 his landlord orders him? Can ho have his osvn will in 
 anything that clashes with the interests or prejudices 
 of his master? Can he even marry his sons or 
 daughters, in many instances, without first consulting 
 Legree, who can forbid the banns if he pleases? This 
 slavery shall exist no longer in Ireland any more than 
 in Uussia. The voice of the people must be heard 
 once more thundering for justice at the doors of an op- 
 pressive aristocracy. It is not in human nature to 
 bear it longer. The spiiit of liberty is abroad, and 
 even the Siberian loosens his chain at her approach. 
 We have no ill-feeling towards the aristocracy — we 
 only want them lo do justice to the poor, and until 
 they do this justice, they shall never know rest or 
 peace in Ireland. 'Justice for the poor oppressed is a 
 heavenly motto, and we invite all honest men to join 
 D3 in the struggle to attain it. — [Kilkenny Journal. 
 
 'And we invite all honest men to join us in the 
 struggle to attain it.' That's the doctrine, brothers. 
 The glorious British Constitntton is like a fine house, 
 horse, or dinner. It is for those who have the money 
 to buy it. Russian serfs and American slaves, which 
 your Irish geese gabble so much about, are in a far 
 superior position to the Irish who imagine they pos- 
 sess the blessings of the hoasted British Constitution. 
 Your Houghton philanthropy, which leaves home for 
 the negroes in our southern stutes, is your curse. He 
 belongs to a people (the Friends) whose very greatest 
 efforts in the cause of freedom were when they de- 
 manded the abolition of children being made chimney- 
 sweeps, and so proud were they of success, they then 
 united in a grand eft'ort of abolishing the London 
 dogcarts. Yet the world cou!d never see why lazy 
 dogs should not earn their bread by labor. 
 
 Floods in Kkret. — Instead of £3000, we regret to 
 find that the damage inflicted by the late floods will 
 cost this country £7000. Now we do not think that 
 the present generation should be left to bear the whole 
 weight of the great calamity with which it has pleased 
 God to visit us, grievously enhancing as that would 
 the incubus of the county cess and over-burdened 
 peasantry. We think that immediate steps should be 
 taken to .procure a loan from the board of Public 
 Works, the instalments in repayment of which should 
 be spread over the next twenty years. The honorable 
 manner in which the county of Kerry has fulfilled its 
 engagements heretofore is a sufficient guarantee that 
 those instalments will be met with scrupulous punctu- 
 ality. — [Tralee Chronicle. 
 
 At the half-yearly meeting of the Limerick and 
 Foynes Railway proprietors last week, the report 
 then submitted and passed showed that a steady in- 
 crease had occurred in the trafiic since the line had 
 been completed to the terminus at Foynes, in April, 
 and arrangements had just been completed by Mr. 
 Dargan, to run a powerful steam vessel from that port 
 systematically to Fortrush, which would further pro- 
 mote the trafBc. The experiments recently made had 
 shown the desirability of this step. The accounts ex- 
 hibited an increase of £535 in the traffic of the half 
 year. 
 
 The ninth and concluding annual report of the 
 affairs of the Incumbered Estates, just issued by 
 Mr. C. M. Ormsby, of the Statistics Office of the 
 Court, is a document of much public importance, 
 being compiled with such care that its accuracy is 
 undoubted. It appears that the entire number of 
 English and Scotch purchasers (thank God), as well 
 as foreigners, was only 32-t, while the number of 
 Irish purchasers amounted to 8,258,and the amount 
 of purchase money of the former -was £3,160,224, 
 the latter, £20,000,000 and odd. 
 
 The Priceb of Irish Hunters. — To show that 
 the value of Iri^h hunt' rs is not lowering in the market, 
 Mr. King purchased two la^t weik — one for Scotland, 
 to William Foibes, Esq., Calknder House, for which 
 he gave £180, five years old ; the other for England, 
 to William Murry, Esq., of Manchester, at £150, four 
 years old. They are two splendid animals. This 
 should surely act as a great slimnlant to farmers to 
 devote more attention to rear hunters, for which this 
 country is so well adapted. — [Belfast Mercury. 
 
 FoKTiFiCAiiON OP Cork Harbor. — It is stated 
 in well-informed circles that the present fortifications 
 are to be greatly extended ; that the whole line be- 
 tween Carlisle Fort end Roche's Tower is to be almost 
 one continuous battery, and that Spike Island is to be 
 made impervious to assault or bombardment. — [Ex- 
 aminer. 
 
 A HANDSOME monument has been erected in Sea- 
 town cemetary, over the remains of the late Captain 
 Kelly, of the Pride of Erin steamer, who was drowned 
 in Dundalk Bay on the 9th of April last. The ex- 
 pense has been borne by Mrs. Kelly, the mother of the 
 deceased gentleman. 
 
 Tub mummy of an Egyptian princess,from Egypt, 
 was a few days ago landed at the Custom House. 
 It is intended for exhibition. An embalmed cat 
 was found in the same case along with the lady, as 
 also an embalmed bird of exquisite plumage, the 
 whole in excellent preservation [Nation. 
 
 The government has repudiated altogether further 
 dealing with the General Assembly of the Presby- 
 terian church in Ireland, and has conferred the priv- 
 ilege of nominating candidates for the vacant chap- 
 laincies in the Presbyterian church in Scotland. — 
 [Belfast Mercury. 
 
 The Daily News says the extraordinary quick 
 passage just made by the steamer Pacific between 
 New York and Galway, excited a good deal of at- 
 tention, and it is not improbable that application 
 may be made for the extension of this line. 
 
 Hard Work and Little for it.— An Inshraan 
 cut with a sickle, bound and stooked an acre of strong 
 standing oats in one day, at Townheadof Dolphinton, 
 Scotland, for 8a. 6d. 
 
 SPAIN. 
 
 Madrid, Oct. 7. — A decree authorises the Ad- 
 ministration of the Phillipine Islands to apply their 
 surplus funds to local purposes uncontrolled by the 
 home government. 
 
 The adversaries of the O'Donnell Cabinet, have 
 given it the name of the ' Irish Ministry ;' but the 
 public, it is said, in a Madrid journal, somehow 
 cannot connect t"he designation of Irishmen with 
 anything detrimental to their rights or prosperity. 
 The Minister of Public Works intends to resort 
 more generally to the practice of contracts. A min- 
 isterial journal says that all the contracts lately 
 made contrasts rather strongly with the contracts of 
 another kind. 
 
 According to the Epoca, the government will re- 
 cognise the rights of the Church to possess and ac- 
 quire property.' 
 
 With the first part of this extract we have a word 
 to say. The attempt at introducing Know-Nothing- 
 ism into Spain has failed. ' The public somehow 
 cannot connect the designation of Irishmen with 
 anything detrimental to their rights or prosperity." 
 No ! Spain is not New England. Spain remembers 
 services given and blood spilled. Spain is not 
 frightened at the name of the Pope, or the Irish 
 brogue. Spain pays back in honors and emolument 
 her citizens of Irish descent. New England, and 
 Boston, its capitol, disfranchises the countrymen of 
 Montgomery, who fell the first in liberty's cause, 
 and th« Sullivans, its greatest statesmen. A Shield 
 would hardly be tolerated here though he had 
 twenty times died for their honor on the field. Yet 
 Spain is called intolerant, and New England the 
 first in freedom's cause. ' Oh, liberty, what crimes 
 are committed in thy naoie.' 
 
 miscellaneous news. 
 
 The Sikh Consi'IRAcy. — The Bengal Hurkaru 
 contains the account of the Sikh conspiracy, taken 
 from the New Era and Press, and appends to it the 
 following ; — 
 
 'All this was subsequently confirmed, although at 
 the time some of our contemporaries expressed 
 rather prematurely their doubts, having no other 
 reason apparently for those doubts than the fact 
 that they had not themselves received the same in- 
 formation. It came later, and the last numbers of 
 the Delhi Gazette, and other up-country journals 
 which have reached us, go so far as to say that they 
 now believe the conspiracy to have been even 'more 
 wide-spread than they had at first stated. One of 
 them reported the rebellion ' at last of the 39th Na- 
 tive Infantry, but we have ourselves positive in- 
 formation of the date to which this last report refers 
 — to the effect that all was now quiet at Dera Ismail 
 Khan. The illness, indeed, of Sir John Lawrence, 
 and his rumored early departure for England, would 
 frighten many persons more than the revolt of a 
 regiment. The Court of Inquiry, sitting at Dera 
 Ismail Khan, has not communicated to the public 
 the revelations which it has itself attained, and 
 which are surmised to be of considerable impor- 
 tance.' 
 
 French M.i.RRiAGE8' — ' The example of the Duke 
 de Malakofi',' writes a correspondent of the Conti- 
 nental Review, ' appears to be contagious among 
 the Marshals of France. At present there is a great 
 noise in Paris about the marriage of Marshal Canro- 
 bert, not like his colleague, with the daughter of a 
 hidalgo, but with the fair daughter and heiress of 
 one of our richest ironmasters in Champagne. The 
 province of Champagne, besides its renowned wines, 
 furnish marriageble daughters of superior quality. 
 Of this fact we have proof in another marriage in 
 high life. M. Magne, the son of the Minister of the 
 Finances, is to be married at Rheims to a tocher of 
 four millions.' 
 
 A Paris letter, in the Independance, of Brussels, 
 says : — ' The news of the concession of a place for 
 forming a coal depot on the coast of Algeria to the 
 Russian Steam Navigation Company is positive.but 
 the same has taken place on the coasts of Barbary 
 and of Egypt. The fact, indeed, would not be 
 worthy of remark were it not that it coincides with 
 the affair of Villafranca, and the personal relations 
 newly established between the Emperor of Russia 
 and the French Prince. 
 
 His Eminence the Cardinal Archbishop returned 
 to London on Saturday last, and, we are happy to 
 add, in good health. His Eminence had spent the 
 last few days with Lord and Lady Campden, at 
 Broadway, Worcestershire. On Wednesday his 
 Eminence visited the Convent of the Holy Sephul- 
 cbre, Newhall, Chelmsford. — [W'eekly Register. 
 
 A Brussels journal, devoted to the affairs of the 
 East, says that not only will the English not evac- 
 tuate Perim, but they are about to form an impor- 
 tant naval depot in the Isle of Cameron, in the Red 
 Sea, adding, that Cameron has a magnificent har- 
 bor, a rich soil, and an excellent watering place, 
 besides being the centre of the best pearl fisheries in 
 the Red Sea. 
 
 Mr. Longfellow has taken the precaution to get 
 some verses in his new volume of poems written by 
 an Englishman, which gives it copyright, and pre- 
 vents the piraees of the cheap publishers. 
 
 The Chevalier de Negrelli, who is known to the 
 British public as the opponent of Mr. Stephenson 
 in the Suez Canal question, died at Vienna on the 
 night of Thursday week. 
 
 It is certain that the Emperor of Russia has 
 been invited by Prince Napoleon to visit France, 
 and has accepted the invation, and that he will visit 
 both London and Paris next spring. 
 
190 
 
 IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 NATIONAL FESTIVALS. 
 
 Nothing i» ao iiistrumentol in preserving the na- 
 tional character of a people as a healthy adherence 
 to those time-honored customs which »o invariably 
 rcdict iinJ illuatrate the nature ond peculiarities of 
 race. Slanncrs insensibly change or aremodiKed by 
 the course of events through which a people puss j 
 but their festivals and recreations arc found to out- 
 last laws, institutions and governments, because 
 they are commonly interwoven with some immuta- 
 ble elements of the general feeling, or are perpetuat- 
 ed by the circumstances of climate and locality. 
 The geniuses of the noblest races have invariably 
 mirrored itself in their amusements and ceremonies. 
 The Olympic Games and Greek Drama embodying 
 that love of physical energy of mental excitement 
 and elevation which distinguished that splendid 
 people, outlived for many uges their period of mun- 
 dane power, were transicrred with them to Con- 
 stantinople and Asia, and were continued and en- 
 joyed in later centuries, when the Greek fleet and 
 phalanx had only an existence in the annal of the 
 historian. Those of Rome, in which the practical 
 genius of the people was displayed, which were 
 symbolic of war and agriculture, were similarly 
 perpetuated long after the barbarian has settled be- 
 side the Tyber. The Spanish bull-ring is a relic of 
 the Roman amphitheatre, strangely conserved by a 
 Catholic people, and typifying their Pagan past, 
 while their drama, more than any other, is infused 
 with the Christian spirit, and stamped with the age 
 of chivalry. The second order of amusements — 
 those less elevated and more homely — have been 
 equally gaurded by the peoples of Europe. France 
 has its village festivals, devoted to dancing and 
 music, no less than its National Drama ; the fairs of 
 Antwerp and Bruges are still thronged with a sea 
 of holiday people, who climb poles and run races 
 for prizes— who parade the city at night, chanting 
 ch'iruses of old Flemish ballads, and the bonfire 
 still blazes on the bridge, and the horses and belfries 
 are still hung with festive lanterns, though, as in 
 opulent days, the ox is no longer roasted, or the 
 fountains set running with wine in the public 
 squares. 
 
 The higher the qualities of a race the nobler the 
 character of their national festivals and amuse- 
 ments ; and from the earliest recorded period, those 
 of the Celtic people have been distinguished by a 
 certain peculiar grace and elevation. Until the last 
 three hundred years, wherever the race has pre- 
 served its purity, as in Ireland, Wales, and Brit- 
 tanv, poetry and song have formed their special de- 
 light, and their principal festivals have been of an 
 essentially intellectual nature. Among them the 
 poetic contest was by far the most popular institu- 
 tion and agreeable recreation. Every district had 
 its bards, whose duty it was to versify the history 
 of the country, to celebrate the actions and lives of 
 its mighty men, to compose war songs, panegyrics, 
 even satires ; and periods of the year were even set 
 apart when the poets of various districts and prov- 
 inces met together, recited their compositions, and 
 were awarded the prizes due to their respective 
 merits. Even so late as Louis the Fourteenth's 
 time, some remnant of this national Celtic custom 
 was observable in Brittany, though many ages have 
 elapsed since such festivals were held Ji Ireland or 
 Wales. Just now, however, a movement is being 
 made to restore this as well as other national insti- 
 tutions and customs. A grand Eisteddfod or gath- 
 ering has been held in the Vale of LiangoUen, its 
 object being to promote • the study and cultivation 
 of the poetry, music, and general literature of the 
 Cymri, to preserve the Welsh language, to encour- 
 age native arts and manufactures, and to rescue 
 from neglect and obli\-ion the national usages of the 
 Principality." Prizes to the amount of iJjOO have 
 been awarded to the successful candidates — to those 
 who have produced the best compositioaB in poetry 
 
 and history — who hove succeeded in realizing the 
 ancient costume — who have rescued from oblivion 
 some old custom, handed down by tradition, or ex- 
 celled in the department of native art or manufac- 
 ture. Thousands of visitors from all parts of Eng- 
 gland are said to have attended this festival, which 
 has gone off in the most successful manner. 
 
 In restoring this national festival, the Welsh have 
 set an example to the great Celtic brotherhoood, 
 which is worthy of all praise, and which the Irish 
 people might easily and should certainly emulate. 
 They also have their national festivals, bardic and 
 other, which now, unhappily, exist only in records, 
 but which, were they restored, would have an in- 
 calculable effect in elevating and beautifying the na- 
 tional life — tending, at the same time, to unite the 
 people, and to develope their intellect and re- 
 sourcss. The Welsh have already an extensive 
 literature printed in its original Cymric tongue, and 
 numerous translations from European works are 
 being disseminated through all their towns and vil- 
 lages. By this means their language is preserved, 
 and when this is the case there is no fear that their 
 nationality should be lost. By restoring, with some 
 modifications, the ancient costume, which is both 
 more comfortable and picturesque than that at pres- 
 ent in use, they arc acting in the same laudible di- 
 rection, and we find that prizes have been allotted 
 to those who have appeared more elegant and 
 tastefully dressed in the ancient habit, the materials 
 of which have been manufactured in the princi- 
 pality. Let us hope that this subject will be agi- 
 tated throughout the country, with a similar national 
 purpose. It is only necessary to make a beginning, 
 and the attractive nature of the movement will en- 
 sure its success. We will return shortly to this im- 
 portant subject, and offer a few suggestions as to 
 the particular Irish festivals and customs which 
 should be resusticated — the organization requisite 
 for starting this project, and the localities in which 
 tlie bardic and other entertainments should be 
 held. — [Nation. 
 
 The Last Man. — When all the tickets for the 
 Leeds Music Hall had been disposed of — when the 
 great powers. Love and Money, had given up in 
 despair all attempts to secure further admission — 
 Brother Jonathan presented himself as a candidate 
 for a place. He had come to Leeds, at the last mo- 
 ment, curious to see how • the Queen could make a 
 belted knight i' and wherever he made application 
 for a ticket, the answer was—' All gone — not a 
 ticket to be had." But our repijblicai. cousin was 
 not to be put off; he went to the mayor himself — 
 the knight elect — pleaded his cause, and implored 
 his worship's interest. Sir Peter (that was to be) 
 could only answer that he did not keep the keys of 
 the hall — that he had no tickets to dispense. Still 
 our hero persisted, and so successfully that the 
 mayor consented to try how far his written request 
 would prevail upon Cerberus to pass the importu- 
 nate American. Away went the conquerer with 
 his tallismanic passport— the doors flew open at his 
 approach— and one of the best places in the hall 
 was the stranger's reward. The last man stood 
 first. — [Manchester Examiner. 
 
 A butcher, who was afflicted with that obliquity of 
 vision known as strabismus, was about slaughtering a 
 bullock, and he employed a little negro to stand by 
 the bull's head, grasp his horns, and hold his head 
 steady, so that he (ihe butcher) would have a certainty 
 of knocking him down. As the butcher poised his 
 axe in the air, he seemed to be looking directly at the 
 negro, instead of at the bullock. ' Look here, look 
 here, bossy,' exclaimed the darkey, with a great deal 
 of ncrvons trepidation, ' is you gwirc to strike whar 
 you is lookin' ? ' 'Of course I am, you black sconn- 
 I drcl,' was the reply. ' Den you git somebody else to 
 I hold be bullock,' ejaculated young Sambo ; you isn't 
 I gwine to knock dis chile's brains out.' 
 
 VARIOUS ITEMS. 
 
 Thb head coverings that ladies wear now-a-days are 
 barefaced false-hoods. 
 
 ' Have you i^ad my last speech V said a vain ora- 
 tor to tt friend. ' I hope so,' was tlie reply. 
 
 An eye-glass is a toy which enables a coxcomb to 
 see others, and others to see that he is a coxcomb. 
 
 * I AM told, miss, that jour lover plays and drinks.' 
 ' Oh, yes, sir, he plays the flute divinely, and drinks 
 continually at the spring of Helicon.' 
 
 'Tis not unfitting that a virtuous young lady should 
 blush at her first presentation in society. The morn- 
 ing herself blushes when she first appears, unless she 
 is ' under a cloud.' 
 
 ' Sir,' sa^d a young wife to her husband, a I'ew days 
 after marriage, 'you were honest enough to tell me 
 that your chimney smoked, but why didn't you tell me 
 that you smoked yourself ?' 
 
 ' I don't think you need trouble yourself to visit 
 me any longer, doctor.' ' But, my friend, I had better 
 visit you as long as you are in danger.' ' Oh, sir, I 
 fear then I shall never be out of danger.' 
 
 The following dialogue passed a short tii:je since 
 before a court in England between a medical witness 
 and a lawyer : — 
 
 Lawyer — If a person lying on wet straw were de- 
 prived of nil comforts and necessaries of life, would it 
 not liasten deatli ? 
 
 Doctor — That would greatly depend on whether he 
 had previously been accustomed to them. 
 
 Lawyer — Do you mean to tell us that if a person 
 lived in a horse-pond that it would not be injuiious to 
 him? 
 
 Doctor — I think not, if he had lired for sixty or 
 seventy years in it. 
 
 A Genius. — A fellow who chopped off his hand 
 the other day, while cutting wood, sent to an apothe- 
 cary for a remedy for ' chopped hands.' 
 
 About Betting. — Somebody has discovered that 
 wlien a betting man says hell 'take' you, ho means 
 that, if he can, he'll ' take you in.' 
 
 ' YoD look as though you were beside yourself,' said 
 a wag to a fop standing by a donkey. 
 
 Two leading members of the bar were sitting oppo- 
 site one another at the dinner-table. One_was describ- 
 ing the effects of a speech he made a few nights before 
 in a great political meeting. ' Indeed,' said be, ' I 
 never saw the people so filled with enthpsiasm !' ' Fill- 
 ed with what?' cried the other. ' Wiih enthusiasm,' 
 repeated the first. 'Oh, ah,' says the other, 'I under- 
 stand; but I never heaid it called by that name before; 
 we call it brandy and water.' 
 
 WiiT is a retired carpenter like a lecturer ? Because 
 he is an ex-planer. 
 
 Why is a man who makes additions to false rumors 
 like one who has confidence in all that is told bim ? 
 Because he rc-lics on all he hears. 
 
 A doctor returned a coat to a tailor because it did 
 not fit him. The tailor seeing the doctor at the fune- 
 ral of one his patients said, 'Ah, doctor, you are a 
 happy man !' Why so '* said the doctor. ' Because,' 
 replied the tailor, 'you never have any of your bad 
 work returned on your hands.' 
 
 Wnr is it easier to be a clergyman than a phy- 
 sician ? Because it is easier to preach than to prac- 
 tice. 
 
 A GRAND jury down South ignored a bill against a 
 huge negro for stealing chickens, and before discharg- 
 ing him from custodv, the judge bade him stand repri- 
 manded ; he concluded as follows : ' You may go now, 
 John, but, (shaking bis finger at him) let me warn 
 yOD never to appear here again.' John, with delight 
 beaming in his eyes, and with a broad grin, displaying 
 a beautiful row of ivory, replied, ' I wouldn't have bin 
 here dis time, Judge, only the constable he fotcb 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 191 
 
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 ADVERTISEMENTS 
 
 MERCANTILE AND WRITING SCHOOL, 
 
 E. J. GLEESON, Master. 
 
 This School is now opened at No. 23 Poktland Street, 
 a few doors south of Dooley's Exchange Hotel, where a 
 select and limited number of the Youth of both sexes will 
 be admitted; time from 9 A. M. to 12 M., and from 2 P. M 
 to 6 P.M. 
 
 TERMS MODERATE. 
 
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 BOOK-KEEPING : 
 
 Mr. Gleeson ventures to say, and pledges himself without 
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 Counting Room, in half the time that is consumed in simi- 
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 pense. 
 
 August 17th, 1858. aug28 
 
 FINE READY MADE CLOTHmG 
 
 SPRING OVERCOATS, 
 
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 EKOCK AND DRESS COATS, 
 
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 Good, Stylish, Well Madu Gaemekts, 
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 Our aim is to produce for our customers the be^t Ready 
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 my 11 tf 
 
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192 
 
 IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 ARE VOU A CITIZENF I aarrrd and liindin); obligntlonii and respoosibilitiea — a 
 
 We annoumtd in ihe last numlwr of the Miscellany I great right, won by rivers of heroic blood, and mag- 
 our inteniiun of opening a nuiuralir.uiion oflioe in con- ! naniroou>ly handed down by ibu purust pairiotistn to 
 nccliou with ibis papir, and we now hope to have all ■ deserving successors. Ho that will not avail himself 
 the arrungemcnls fully i-onipleted in a week or two, | of the priceless gift is unworthy a country or a home, 
 when all our friends yet unnaturalized can be assisted and should herd with cannibals or the wild buB'alo. 
 in ijuickly becoming ciiitcns, .should they bo eligiblo. i No more crying about proscription ! Let every man 
 We have always inculcated this as a duty, which, if bo a citizen who can, and as soon as be can, and thus 
 neglccicd, is sure to cost the dilatory both regret and nullify the proscriptive bigot's vote, and sustain the 
 trouble ; and we hold it an especial duty, when men Constitution against thoso who would let it 'slido.' 
 are sent to Congress from Massachusetts who proclaim 
 themselves traitors to the Constitution which they 
 swear to preserve ; an especial duty, when we live in a Wedster axd Hayne4. — Wc have received the 
 slate the legislature of which enacts laws unconstitu- i celebrated speeches of »* ebstcr and Uaynes in the 
 tional, and many acta which aro a nullification of laws ', United Slates Senate on Mr. Fooie's resolutions of 
 of the federal government; an especial duly, when ( Jaimary, 1S30 ; also Webster's speech in the Senate 
 
 ASVBBTIBBMSITTB. 
 
 STEAM TO ALL PARTS OF GREAT BRITAIN 
 
 —VIA THE— 
 ATLANTIC ItOYAL MAIL STliAMSIIIl' COS 
 
 NEW YORK AND GALWAY LINE. 
 
 THIS Is the Khortcst roulo betwciMi EuroiH- and Amer- 
 ica. T'lte line is coinpuscd of powerl'uf and laiit )*all- 
 jn^ Hteumittiipt!, ably ulhcered, and lurulKhed with every- 
 tiling rei^iiihiie to render the vuyBf;e nalc and Uf;reeable. 
 The depurtures from New York tar Ualway will be at lot- 
 loWK, uutil further notice, viz: — 
 
 I'ACIKIC, William C. Thompson Friday, Nov. 2. 
 
 Tersuns vifitiuf; Ireland reach their destination in three- 
 fourths the time taken bv any utiier route, and all liave an 
 opportunity ol visililig places and frccncry of unrivalled in- 
 
 ter 
 
 eland. 
 
 ciliiens, because of foreign birth, are proscribed as in- 
 compeiani and unworty, and when laws are enacted 
 expressly to oppress them. 
 
 As citizens, we live under two governments — 
 State and Federal. In Massachusetts the govern- 
 ment endeavors to sink the intelligent, vivacious, 
 and worthy countrymen of Canning, Swift, Sher- 
 
 of the United Slates, March 7, 1850, on the slavery 
 comjiromise. In reading, at this distance of time, 
 when every calm feeling can be brought to unbias the 
 judgment, and a cooler and more deliberate view taken 
 of their respective merits, we can hardly accede to the 
 public sentiment of the North as at that time manifest- 
 ed. Sir. Huynes rises in our estimation, while Mr. 
 
 idan, Grattan, and O'Connell, below the infe- j Webster keeps his own elevated position, and we can 
 nor and stupid African race — glorifying the in no way explain the two men belter than by refer- 
 negro while it repudiates a race one of the bright- [ ring to subjects they contended lor, and to each of their 
 est in intelligence, and whose physical labor has I mollois on the cover of the pamphlet— the one for 
 been the greatest blessing not only to the state, but \ Southern rights, the other for the unity of the States. 
 
 to the whole Union. As citizens of the United 
 States, which knows no distinction between birth 
 and adoption, and having taken the oath of alle- 
 giance to the Constitution, we are brought in direct 
 opposition to the State in which we live. Here, 
 then, is the double duty, not to be supine nor care- 
 less, but to be up and battling for the Union. Can 
 the foreigner, with any consistency of character, 
 complain of fanaticism or intolerance, while in his 
 own hands is the means of legally abrogating the 
 eviU they complain of ■ In the city of Boston alone 
 there are more than ihreo thousand Irishman who 
 could legally vote, bit who either have not fully com- 
 plied with the requirements of the law, or, possessiag 
 the right, neglect to perform the duty. There are 
 some persons who cannot afford to pay the tax, which 
 is levied, as many suppose, for the express purpose of 
 driving the hard-working adopted citizen from the 
 ballot-box. Strange to say, these very individuals 
 who fail 10 avail themselves of the right to vote com- 
 plain most of the bitter hostility and proscription of 
 Know Nothing and Black Republicanisms. 
 
 Within this State we suppose there are fifteen thou- 
 sand such persons, and if every one of them would 
 walk up manfully to the ballot-box, they would offsett 
 a Gardner or a Banks, and thas quietly lay bigotry and 
 intolerance in the ' tomb of the Capulets.' To boa 
 citizen of ihc United Stales is a first duly; to exercise 
 its privileges for the safety of the Union is the second. 
 Many of our people think it is simply an affair of 
 politics when they aro directed to perform this duty, 
 and that the advice they receive is to redound to the 
 good of the adviser. It is not so. Besides being a 
 duty to the state, it is a duly to your children, to the 
 the Union, and to true Democratic principles. The 
 time is not far distant when not to bo a citizen — if here 
 years enough — will subject the unnataralized foreigner 
 to scorn and derision. 
 
 A man applied at the Custom House of Boston a 
 few days since to register himself as part owner of a 
 vessel. Upon inquiry, it was shown that he was of 
 foreign birth, and had sailed out of Boston over twen- 
 ty-two years, but not having taken the necessary steps 
 to become a citizen, was ileligible to own the vessel. 
 He knew he had neglected the duty ; it now recoiled 
 upon his own head. Nor could he be ignorant of the 
 fact that if taken in war during that time, the United 
 Stales could not save him, and his chances of suspen- 
 sion from a yard-arm would be more than likely. 
 
 Citizenship should be a proud boast, and should be 
 held in the highest estimation, atd there should be 
 
 It is for sale at the counter of A. Williams i Co., 100 
 Washington street. 
 
 Not quite a ' Break-Down.' — The announce- 
 ment of the first ball, under Irish patronage, in the 
 town of Stoneham, affoided some of the Puritans a 
 subject for discussion, and not without some apprehen- 
 sions for the consequences. We are now happy to 
 slate, however, that on their se ing Irish beauty warm- 
 ed into life and joy by the soul-stirring strains of 
 Wright's Quadrille Band, which gave universal satis- 
 faction on this occasion, all their fears were dispelled. 
 The American portion of the community of Stone- 
 ham now believe that an Irish ball is a different thing 
 to see than to hear about. Every thing went like a 
 marriage bell, and realized for the worthy recipiant — 
 old Michael Fitzgerald — all that the worthy managers 
 expected. 
 
 The increased demand for the Miscellany has total- 
 ly exhausted our edition of last week. AVe were 
 altogether unprepared for this anxiety on the part 
 of our friends to possess themselves of a copy of our 
 pictorial. We promise that in future we will be pre- 
 pared for them ; and we will now say that, in return for 
 their kindness, neither means nor pains will be spared 
 on our part to merit their kindness, and make more in- 
 teresting The Irish Miscellany. 
 
 I'rice ot'puwaiie, including Iree tickelH by the usual rail- 
 road routes Iron) Galway to any ot the principal ciiieH ot 
 Oreal llritain, at Ihe I'ollowhi)} reduced rates;— I'lret class 
 Sm. second class SuU, thild chisr S3U. 
 
 'i'liot'e wishing lu briUK their friends to this country can 
 purclittfe tickels lor their passage in third class front Cial- 
 wav at S3U, or from oilier cities ill Oreat Britain, accefsible 
 by railroad. Sa:;. A liberal cuLiii table will be provided, 
 and cool;ed provisions for third class passengers to and 
 from lialway. 
 
 For freight and pa.ssage and further particulars apply to 
 the Aiiiericau Express Company, CI Hudson street, Kew 
 York, or to 
 
 NAZttO BKl>TnEUS t .SWIIENEY, 
 
 ol6 If li Chatham Kow, Uoston. 
 
 W. J. HENNESSy, 
 ARTIST, 
 
 No. 87 FRANKLIN STREET, 
 
 i\'E\V YOIiK CITY. 
 
 DO'GOL'UKK, rcs-pectAilly informs his Iricnds and the 
 . public, that he keeps coiistanllv on hand COFFINS 
 of all sizes and kinds, at his Collin 'Manufactory, No Ml 
 Federal, between iteach and Kiiecland Streets, Uoston, 
 which he will sell as reasonable as can be bought at any oth- 
 er place in the city. 
 
 N. II. — Orders punctually attended to, day or night. 
 
 Kesideuce, No. 28 South street, Boston. 
 
 O^tj rave-Clothes l^iruished to order at short notice. 
 
 febl3 
 
 P.'i.SSENGER CERTIFICATES. 
 
 TO OLD roUNTHYMEN. Owen Mc Namara has 
 ra.ssage Cerlilicates and Drafts always on liand and 
 for sale. As he does business for that most respectable 
 house, (Williams & (iuion) in New Y'oik. Old Countrymen 
 desiring to send for their friends, or remit money, would 
 do well to give liim a call at No. 4 (iORUAM St.. opposite 
 Summer St., Lowell, Mass ap2t.' 
 
 TREANOH & GUINEY, AriOKNEY;.S and COUNSEL- 
 LORS AT LAW, 15 Massachusetts Block, Court square, 
 Boston. 
 
 CC7*Farticular attention paid to Conveyancing, and ba 
 examination of titles of Real Estate. febl 
 
 We Will Not be Beat. — The Irish ladies of 
 New York have presented to Captain Waters, of the 
 Galway steamer Prince Albert, an Irish flag. And 
 now that we have the assurance of Captain W. 
 Thatcher, who is now in London working for the Bos- 
 ton lino, that it will be snccessful, we call upon the 
 Irish ladies of Boston to organize tor a similar pur- 
 pose. They will have the aid of the Miscellany. 
 
 We feel much indebted to friends for the old docu- 
 ments of tales and legends which they send us. We 
 trust nothing old will be kept back. In due time we 
 hope to have an artist who will visit every village and 
 hamlet in Ireland, and no old ruin, scenic view, or 
 landscape, no legend, story, nor old song, but shall, if 
 worthy, find a place in the Irish Miscellany. 
 
 Misa Teresa Esmond's Readings. — As we go to 
 press before hearing Miss Teresa Esmond, we trust 
 she will have a splendid hoasc. In common with Mr. 
 Donahoe of the Pilot, wc were ready lo du anything in 
 our power to secure her a crowded house; but neither 
 of the Irish papers were consulted, or even received any 
 thrown around it every safeguard of the law. It is not I information on the subject. We hope she will not be 
 a toy to be trifled with, but s contract of the moit compelled to say, ' Save me from my frienda.' 
 
 LAWRENCE BIUGADE BAND. J. Desmond, I..cad- 
 er. Are prepared to furnish Music for Military and 
 Civic Parades, I'lc-Nics, Festivals, &c. Also, a t^uadrille 
 Band furnished, if desired. Address J. Desmond, cara of 
 Rev. J. O'Donnttll, Lawrence, Mass. 
 
 OUR AGENTS. 
 Boston— John J. Dyer, & Co.,a5 School street; A. Wil- 
 liams & Co.. 100 Washington street ; Fedheren k Co., 9 and 
 13 Court street; Wm. llickey. 128 Federal street; ilowe (c 
 Co., 11 Court Avenue; and William Keating. 176 Harrison 
 
 Philttdelphia.— A. Winch, 320 Chestnut street. 
 
 Ohio.— M. U. Bird, Cincinnati, and Uawki k Brothara, 
 Cleoveland. 
 
 Detroit, Mich.— J. A, Roys. 
 
 St. Louis, Missouri. — Thomas Duggan. 
 
 New Orleans. La.— .lames M. Shine. 
 
 California- James MeL,iiin, of San Francisco. 
 
 The MiscfUany may also be had, retail, of newspaper and 
 periodical dealers throughout the country. 
 
 TRAVKI-LINO AOENT8. 
 
 John Warren, 50 Aiidovcr street, for Boston andrlclnlty. 
 James Doyle, of Slillbury, Mass. M. Fludlay McKay, 
 of Amosburv, Mass. E<iward il. Keenan, ol North Ferrli- 
 burg, Vt. Michael F. Huckelt, of Providence, It. I. James 
 Sullivan, of New Ilaveu, Ct. James Culleu. of Wert Troy, 
 N. V. Daniel A. Brosnan, of Washington, D. C. 
 
 IRISH MISCELLANY 
 
 Is published weekly, and devoted lo the Interests and vin- 
 dication of the Irish people throughout the world. 
 
 The ^TlscelUtny republishes eoch week one whole number 
 of the old ' Dublin Pknnv Journal,' with original and 
 selected essays, reviews, poetry, &c., by Irishmen, of tirst- 
 rate ability. It also contains' beautil'nl Pictorial Illustra- 
 tions of Irish scenery and oilier objects of interest, among 
 which may be enumerated en^'raviiigri ot the ancient cas- 
 tles and round ton erv, Ihe ruins of Ihe old churches, tb« 
 plundered monasteries, convents and abbeys of Ireland. 
 
 It will also contain correct Pictorial representations ot 
 works of art executed by Irishmen ot the present day, as 
 well as iu former times, in this country and throughout 
 Europe. 
 
 TxKMS. — $2,00 per year, invariably in advance. 
 THOMAS O'NEILL. PBorniKToa, 
 UICHAEL J. WALSH, Conductor, 
 
 Xo. 4 Watsk finuiiT, BotToa, Uaw. 
 
VOLUME 2— NUMBER 39] 
 
 BOSTON, SATURDAY, NOVEMBER 6, 1858. 
 
 [PRICE FOUR CENTS. 
 
 MONTREAL, CANADA. 
 
 We this week present our readers with a view of 
 the city of Montreal, the commercial capital of 
 Canada. Now that there is a regular line of steam- 
 ers established between that city and Ireland, this 
 portion of British America cannot but be regarded 
 ^th considerable interest by our people. Montreal, 
 it may be said, is a creation of but yesterday, for it 
 is not a great many years since the whole territory 
 around its locality was a wilderness of forests and 
 ■wild beasts. But man can accomplish almost any- 
 thing. Emigrants from the United Kingdom found- 
 ed Upper Canada, built Montreal, and, from its ad- 
 vantageous position on the banks of the mighty St, 
 Lawrence, it has grown into its present importance. 
 Montreal is an island in the river of St. Lawrence 
 of considerable fertility. The city is on the south 
 ■of the island. It is divided into the upper and lower 
 town, in the former of which the principal mer- 
 chants reside. Xhe lower is not of less importance, 
 because it is there the principal traffic on this part 
 of the St. Lawrence is carried on, and scaroely any- 
 
 thing can be more picturesque than the passage of 
 vessels and boats,and immense rafts of timber, float- 
 ed down from the vast regions behind Montreal. 
 
 The institutions of this already populous city are 
 numerous and admirably conducted. There is a 
 museum, several educational establishments on a 
 large scale, numerous private schools,and altogether 
 a well organised system of instruction, although 
 each particular religious sect has a discipline in con- 
 formity with its peculiar views. The churches of 
 Montreal are numerous. The Roman Catholics 
 have a fine cathedral, with a towering spire, and 
 other religious denominations have equally attrac- 
 tive and suitable edifices of Divine worship. The 
 amusements are not neglected, for the theatres are 
 handsome structures. 
 
 The population of Montreal, as may be readily 
 imagined, is of a very miscellaneous description. It 
 is composed of English, Irish, Scotch, Welsh, 
 French, Germans, and contributions from the 
 United States, and of not a few of those sable sons 
 of Africa, whose ultimate destiny seems to our pres- 
 
 tent apprehension an inscrutable mystery. To govern 
 such a mixed community requires no small amount 
 of forbearance on the part of the powers, and no 
 slight admixture of mercy with justice. But it 
 must be said, for the credit of the inhabitants of 
 Montreal, that their conduct — vexed as they have 
 been, and are, with conflicting politics — has been, 
 with a few painful exceptions, exemplary, and the 
 controlling power of the municipality not only 
 obeyed, but respected. There have been, as we have 
 remarked, exceptions; but there is this excuse for 
 them — great masses in a state of excitement have 
 no government over their pass.ons. A spontaneous 
 impulse leads them on, and they rush on either to 
 achieve success, or be hurled back, to commence a 
 rapid and ignominious retreat. Popular commo- 
 tions are little understood, and as we learn from the 
 history of nations, particularly Greece and Rome, 
 they seem to be natural to the condition of all new 
 communities. 
 
 Montreal, however, in this respect, may challenge 
 comparison with any other new city, for its inhabi- 
 
 t:ie (uty of monthe.vi. 
 
194 
 
 IRISH MISCELIJVNY. 
 
 tnnts, %vhen dissatisfled and turbulrnt, never cotn- 
 mtctcd iTUilties, and justice was uhvnys considerate. 
 These ebullitions arc only phases in the progress of 
 society, and on that point we niiiy remark that who- 
 ever has attentively meditated on the progress of the 
 human race eannot fail to diaecm that there is now 
 a spirit of inijuiry amongst men nhieli nothing can 
 for any lengthened period control. }leproach, and 
 threats, and persecution, will be in vain. They 
 may embitter opposition and engender violence, but 
 they cannot abate the keenness of research. There 
 is a silent march of thought which no power can 
 arrest, and which is not difficult to foresee will be 
 marked by important events. Forces are at work 
 rousing the intellect of nations ; and if some anger 
 is exhibited, it is only the petulance of the vigorous 
 child panting to become the strong man. Inquiry 
 leads to improvement, and, of all the young nations 
 in the world, Canada — for Canada is radically an 
 independent country — seems the most likely to be 
 among the foremost to take solid advantage of the 
 offered opportunity to march to a splendid maturity. 
 
 litr constitution is a comparatively Irce one, and 
 as the age of colonization has gone, the presence »{ 
 a British governor may only be considered as a kind 
 of link with the mother country. The time will 
 come when this connection will be dissolved, for 
 the people of England, if their voices were canvass- 
 ed, would decide to be relieved of the expense of 
 protectorates, for trade has become on established 
 principle, and it is the most cnteprising and indus- 
 trious nations that will succeed in the great ulti- 
 mate struggle for supremacy as regards commerce. 
 Her position and materials, both in population and 
 resources, command for her an attitude against 
 which no hostile force can prevail, but, on the con- 
 trary, establish her in the good opinion and admi- 
 ration of the whole of the civilized world. Until 
 within a few years past, the whole of her coast by 
 Lake Superior, and the country lying adjacent, was 
 either wholly unknown, or regarded as a bleak and 
 barren wild, presenting no inducements to the set- 
 tler. Even now the knowledge of the natural fea- 
 tures and capabilities of that portion of liritish ter- 
 ritory lying within the northern shores of Lake 
 Huron and Superior is confined to but a small num- 
 ber of hardy adventurers, who have been attracted 
 to its coasts by the reports of mineral wealth f aid to 
 exist there. A mistaken opinion seems to prevail 
 that the country, however it may abound in mineral 
 resources, is not adapted to agricultural pursuits. 
 But in many places the hca\'y and luxuriant growth 
 of vegetation sufficiently attests the fertility of the 
 soil ; the various grasses, oats, barley, and all the 
 esculent roots, grow with rapidity, and attain an 
 excellence not inferior to sii.ilar productions in re- 
 gions reputed to be much more favorable to agricul- 
 ture. There can be but little doubt that when the 
 application of industry and skill shall develop the 
 latent virtues of the soil, portions of this region will 
 prove to be as desirable for agricultural settlement 
 as many of those points which have niore largely 
 attracted the tide of immigration from the old 
 world. 
 
 It is not alone to agriculturists, however, that this 
 north shore of the great lakes offers inducements. 
 The timber is, in some places, not quite so large as 
 that to be found further to the south, yet great for- 
 ests arc not wanting, and it is evidant that the de- 
 mand for timbers in the eastern cities and on the 
 praries will compel the lumberman to seek food for 
 his axe wherever it is to be found. The fisheries, 
 too, along the shore are as valuable as any in the 
 world. They are resorted to by Americans in large 
 numbers, and must ultimately prove a source of 
 great wealth to the country. 
 
 A Parisian robber who was seized for stealing snaff 
 oat of a tobacconist's shop, exclaimed that he was not 
 aware of any law that forbade a man to take snuf) ! 
 
 ALLEV SHERIDAN, OR THE RUNAWAY { 
 MARRIAGE. 
 
 1 c () » T 1 N i; K n . I ! 
 
 Michael Garlliunl was tlin son of a worthy farmer in | 
 the nei;:hborhood, and notwiihsianding llic uiilavoralilo 
 circumstance in wliieli ho made his (lcbut,»was really a ! 
 worthy, spirited young fellow himecll. Ills conoucl, 
 however, on that occasion was only the natiinil result 
 of jealousy, inflamed by the scveriiy with wliicli Miil- 
 llu addressed his sisicr. In point orwenlili,he had a 
 fair claim npon tho good will of Alley Slieridiin, for 
 his properly was fully equal to her owu. About six 
 months before the Sumlay in question, he had formally 
 proposed for her, and was as formally received with 
 great complacency by her mother. Alley, however, 
 wifh more decision of charaeier than could have hei n 
 expected from her father's daughter, sioully insisted 
 upon tho right of a veto in a matter lliut so dei ply In- 
 volved her own happiness, and, therefore, without eere- 
 inuny, rejected liim. In ihis uncertain sta'e was G.irt- 
 l«nd placed, strongly allured by every possible ntien- 
 tioii and encouragement Iruin the mollKT, but repulsed 
 on the daughter's part liy the most uTiiquivocil i x- 
 pressions of dislike. Many young men, upon slighter 
 trounris, would have given up pursuit altogeilier, and 
 indeed his own friends, especially his sisters, di-uaded 
 him from persisting in i'; but he loved the girl to excess, 
 and received such countenance from her friends, the old 
 aunt excepted, that he was induced to try what pa- 
 tience and perseverance, backed by the interest of 
 Widow Sheridan herself, might in the course of time 
 etlcct in liis behalf 
 
 Mullin, on ihc oilier hand, in personal appearaocc, 
 had greatly the advantage of Gartliind ; while in poim 
 of property, Garlland was by far his superior. The 
 former, however, was by no means without indepen- 
 dence ; on ihe contrary, few in the parish, except Gart- 
 land himself, lived in warmer or more comfortable cir- 
 cumstances ; but, unhappily, in the adjustment of mat- 
 rimonial alliances in Ireland, it is no unusual thing for 
 a suitor to be rejected when his rival can piove him- 
 self to be five pounds the wealthier man ; and in pro- 
 portion as the parties are poor, the much smaller ad- 
 vantage of a pig, goat, or a chaft' bed, would c.iuse a 
 preponderance in favor of him who possessed i'. Mul- 
 lin, on finding that he had an advocate in Alley's own 
 i breast, lost no lime in adilressing her molbor ; but this 
 honest woman, who had been accumulating wealth :ill 
 lier life, would have considcied it a eiirae against the 
 future happiness of her daughter to give her to a man 
 at least three hundred pounds inferior to Gartland, 
 who wrts her favorite. 
 
 ' Why, ihin, .Tim Mullin,' said she, 'ihe Lord he 
 knows ycr family is the honest, and the hard-workin', 
 and the dacent family, root and branch, young and 
 ould, man and -voman. Doesn't myself rcmimber yer 
 grandfather, Brian Roe Mullin, the lime he bought the 
 farm of Tamlagh from Square Baty — who sowUl it to 
 him a thiefs pcn'orth — ay, indeed, dog-chape all out, 
 in regard o' the executioners bein' down upon him at 
 the tiroc^-out of his own hard arnin', too— more to his 
 credit be it spoken ; and every one's good word was 
 loud and warm upon bim. .Well, well — my, oh, we're 
 all but sinners, anyhow. Ocli* oeh, and sure that's 
 like yesterday to me — the way time passes over the 
 best of us. So, ye see, tJim, avick. it's out of no ill- 
 will at all that I refuse my daughter to yer father's son. 
 
 No, it's proud I'd be if we could make it a match ; 
 and if ye war able to lay down the other three hundher 
 troth ye'd have my full consint, and ray blcssin' along 
 wid it ; but tUI then, .Jim darlin', sure and ye'U be 
 keepiu' yer distance, ye see, in a frindly way — scein' 
 the thing isn't to my plasin', that reared and has a 
 right to give my colleen to the man that has the heav- 
 iest purse, which I'll do with the blcssin' o' the Al- 
 mighty.' 
 
 This conversation took place about a month before 
 that which we have detailed as oecuring between Mul- 
 lin and G.irtland at the chapel, and subsequently our 
 readers may perceive the relative situations in which 
 the two rivals stood with reference to their hopes of 
 succeeding with the daughter. It is not to he sup- 
 
 posed that Mullin, during his walk home with Alley, 
 neglected to avail hiinscU'ol the upporinnity which oc- 
 curred to press his suit with all ilic aidor and rudoelo- , 
 quRucc in his power, lit fan, he inaile the most of his 
 time, and eootrived to get u jiroinise J'rum her, on the 
 ttrenghth of which an nrranirenient was made, that our 
 readers in due time shall biivc an opporiunity of know- 
 ing. 
 
 We will now leave the contending parties preparing 
 their cudgels for the ensuing lair, and proceed to the 
 development of a plot, such a> the vigilance of parent* 
 and jealous lovers have fr<i|nently discovered, and as 
 frc(|ucntly wdl to the end of the chapter. The even- 
 ing bat one preceding the fair day had set in, when a 
 lahoier of Widow Sheridan's, called ' 1'huI the Shot,' 
 alias Paul Kelly, came to the ' Mishthnss's,' — so the 
 widow was called — having a very fine poinier dog 
 slung from a gun over his shoulder, and a black lamb 
 under his arm ; boih were hlecdin':, but lifeless, hav- 
 ing been recently shot. This man was called Paul the 
 Shot, like 'pnrcio quia niiiiiine parcunt,' because, 
 though irreclaiinably addicted to the sports of the gun, 
 ho seldom ever hit what ho shot at, and seldom .miss- 
 ed uny living ol jeet which happened to be near him, 
 provided he did not aim at it. 
 
 ' The butt o' the evenin' to you, Misthrcss Sheridan. 
 Sure you know I wouldn't be after passin' yer door 
 widoiit giviii' yer a call, wishin' health and happiness, 
 long life and visitation, to you and yours, excluding, 
 of coorse, Misthcr Owen and Miss Alley here. By the 
 shot o' my pouch, but it would he ill my common to 
 pass him by, any how. Now, Miss Alley, for the nog- 
 gin o' thick milk, ' a colleen dhas,' and ' a gra gal 
 maehree' you wor, my darlin' — the flower o' the flock 
 in tioth, and maybe that's no lie. Aufjh, augh ! there's 
 ilie hand large and bountiful; hunders o' thanks to 
 you, darlin', and luck in 'lashins to where that came 
 from. Here's God bless the cows any way. Miss Al- 
 ley, yer health — wishin it was better for yer sake — and 
 a good husband to you, and soon. ' Thigun thu ! — eh ? 
 — ah ! — ha, ha, ha !' 
 
 ' Whv thin, Paul, what the dickens is ihis yon hare 
 brought us ? — eh, Paul V inquired Mrs. Sheridan. 
 
 ■ Hah ! well, well !' replied Paul, wiping his mouth 
 with the sleeve of his coat, ' that's the stuff in amest 
 for milk ! it's mate and dhrink, so it is. Why, you 
 sec,' he continued, giving his mouih another wipe wiih 
 his gnthcied palm, ' the visitation of ' it was this : I 
 borried him,' pointing to the dog, 'from Jemmy Duffy, 
 
 Lord M 's gamekeeper, to hare some sport, as this 
 
 was an idle day wid me. We went up the mountains 
 till we came to Cullamore, when, sure enough, a mur- 
 dherin' lump of a hare started out, as big as 1 dunna 
 what — hard fortune to her to this day, whcrevtr 
 she is, I pray Gimini ! but she was the unfortunate 
 hare to me. Ethen, ma'am, would she be ould Gib- 
 son ! for they say she's not right. Bad luck to her 
 any way ! if ever I come aerass her again, she's as 
 pead as mutton ! — made off, the thief of the world, so 
 she did, and he*afiher her like Erin go-bragh. Here's 
 a dose o' pepper, says I leltin' fly — pop I — whoo ! — 
 crack at you ! — and he my song, sure enough, up she 
 turns, head over heels, fthd dhrops. More power to 
 you, Paul, says I, you never shot, a bouchal-hcg, but 
 you hot someihin" — ' ershi misha ' — and I gave a caper 
 five yards high ! — oh, the sorra and inch less ! — didn't 
 I see the parish of Fang-a-ballagh on the other side o' 
 the hill down ? It's powdhered you are, says I, and 
 peppered, misthrcss, puss — rnnnin' up, at tho same 
 time to bone her — and, he all the books that was ever 
 open or shut, when I got to her, it wasp't tho hare at 
 at all at all, but ,Jimmy Duffy's flvc-an'-twenly guineas 
 worth of a pointher that I put daylight through. Bud- 
 an'-age 1 how'ill I face him at ail at all ?' said Paul, 
 scratching his head, and looking ruefully at the. dead 
 dog. 
 
 ' Paul,' said young Sheridan — ' ha, hem, (puff") ' — 
 
 ' Well, Jlisther Owen V 
 
 ' How did you — (puff), ha, am, (pufl^), hem' — 
 
 ' Aran !' 
 
 ' How did — um, ha, hem ( ■nfi) ' 
 
 ' You may pufl' away Misther Owen, but, any how, 
 
IRISH mSCELLAISY. 
 
 195 
 
 it iva< n |uiff too many wiii me this hoiit. I only wish 
 this ihieviii' t;uii liiid hunf; (ire — been us slow lo j;o o(V 
 wid liersflf as some pcoiile we know.' replied !'iml, 
 Willi 11 wink Kt Alley, while he screwed his moiuh M 
 Owen, who did not notice him. 
 
 ' I Mippo-e,' siiid Alley, ' thnt Owen wishes to know 
 how villi shot the bltick lainb, PiimI.' 
 
 ' llmnpli!' siiiil Owen, iis he noilded his assent, and 
 swirled tbe smoke awny from his mouth. 
 
 ' Throth, it was all Brldfjet's faut here,' replied 
 Paul, poiiitinj; to the gun ; the sorra punier hand at 
 takiii' down hcef or mutton in Europe than she is, 'a 
 vechonee bradha !' for sure there's not a day I ^o out, 
 that some neif;hbor or other isn't a sheep or a calf the 
 worse of her, and all in quensequence of her miseheovi- 
 ous ways. Sowl, many a thump she gives myself, 
 when she's not in good humor.' 
 
 ' But how did you shoot the lamb, Paul ?' inquired 
 Mrs. Sheridan. 
 
 ' Why, you see, ma'am, I was comin' along the 
 head ridge of the handkenhy, and the breard bein' 
 hardly coverin* the clud, what does I see makiti' a fo^ 
 male of my bit of oats but a Hock of blackguard par- 
 sons. What a visitation we have, but I'll have a slap 
 at yees, for I don't love your breed, says I — and sure 
 no more we don't, whether or not — the curse o' ihe 
 crows upon, says I, a^y — fur they're as cunnin' as their 
 namesakes, and as greedy any day — the curse o' the 
 crows upon yees, says I, ye black sconces ! is it takin' 
 liihe so soon yees are 1 Wid that I levels Bridget — 
 puff, slap — there's a taste o' the brimstone, and you'll 
 get another below, says myself, and be the law Harry, 
 they tuck to their scrapers, except a big bosthoon o' 
 thera, that I seen whamblin' himself in the fur; so up 
 I goes, and finds my own brave black lamb, that I in- 
 tinded the wool of to make a black coat for Phiddre, 
 iu regard of him beiu' for the mission. Ho, fai.x, 1 
 suppose she was a descindant o' my own — if we don't 
 have wild fowl — for sorra tail o' thi-m I tuck a feather 
 out of — if we don't have wild fowl we'll have weni?on 
 at all evints ; so the worse luck now, the betther agin. 
 Sure and it was only a mistake wid them both,' point- 
 ing to the dog and lamb, 'anyhow — and the mate, 
 too, at first cost for us.' 
 
 ' Have you nothing neWjPauH' inquired Mrs. Sher- 
 idan. 
 
 ' The sorra taste, barrin' it be a pair o' new 
 breeches I bought for Phiddlire on Sathurday — ha, 
 ha, he! Sure if ive haven't a joke in us, ma'am, 
 ■what's the world good for ?' 
 
 During the conversation, Paul was giving private 
 signals to Mrs. Sheridan, with an air of the most 
 profound mystery, none of which, however, she 
 perceived. At length he looked up the chimney 
 from a point of observation immediately beside 
 where she sat. 
 
 '' Thunder-an'-tiirf, what bacon !' he exclaimed, 
 at the same time contriving to give her a pluck un- 
 pereeived ; ' why it's a full foot deep, so it is, if it's 
 an inch. Faix, it's no w'ondher for you, Mr. Owen, 
 to be stout and ginteel, fat and dacent, and bodach- 
 like, that is fed upon the same bacon, God bless 
 it.' 
 
 Mrs. Sheridan fi.xcd her eye inquiringly upon hiin, 
 and he immediately looked towards the door, as a 
 hint to her to follow him out. 
 
 ' Bedad, it's the purticst hangin' o' bacon I seen 
 this many a daj", God spare yees yer health to make 
 use of it. Good evenin', Miss Alley ; the flower o' 
 the flock you arc, mavourneen. Mr. Owen, wishin' 
 you the same — and it's yourself that's the sprightly 
 hero all out, and full o' life and spirits, and smart as 
 a haystack at a weddin' — ha, ha, ha ! ' Banacht 
 Ihat,' any way, you deludher you.' 
 
 ' Ha, um— (puff).' replied Owen. 
 
 ' Why thin, by the^)cauty o' man, Mrs. Sheridan,' 
 exclaimed Paul, when they had got some distance 
 from the house, ' if I had any notion at all that you 
 wor bO dull of extension ; and sure myself was mak- 
 ing faces at you the best part o' the time, and you 
 never looked round to see what I meant.' 
 
 ' Why, Paul Bvick, have you any news ? ' 
 
 ' Augh ! news, is it? Arrah, to be sure I have. 
 Your daughter niancs to go oH' wid Mullin to-mor- 
 row night, and lie's to bring a loto' the ' boys' wid 
 him, for fear of accidents or opposition. Now your 
 plan is to get in as many o' the neighbors to watch 
 the house as possible. Keep them sittin' up all 
 night, ril come myself, an' bring Bridget here wid 
 me. Get a lot o' whiskey from Jimmy Graham 
 there beyant, to keep up our courage — I mane our 
 spirits — and never fear but we'll pass a pleasant 
 ni;;ht entirely, so we will, and your ' colleen dhas' 
 will be safe and sound for you in the mornin', God 
 willin.' What I'm tellin' you is Gospel ; so mind 
 yourself. I'll be here, for one, to-morrow night ; 
 but don't forget the poteen.' 
 
 'Ay, indeed, Paul; it's the best way. Sure I 
 couldn't expect the neighbors to keep from their 
 warm beds, out o' regard o' me or my child, widout 
 showin' them some dacency.' 
 
 She then returned to the house, without appear- 
 ing to be in the slightest degree in Alley's secret — 
 although both daughter and aunt had very strong 
 suspicions that the conference between her and Paul 
 bore in some manner upon ths girl's design with 
 Mullin, or her marriage to Gartland, the latter of 
 which had been pressing on Alley, for the last few 
 days with unusal eagerness. In fact the aunt and 
 niece were engaged, during the above conversation, 
 precisely upon the same topics — for the sagacity of 
 love is proverbial. 
 
 'Aunt,' said Alley, as they retired to another 
 room, ' I wajer a thrifle this hugger-muggherin' 
 between Paul and my mother is all about James 
 Mullin and myself.' 
 
 'And what suppose, aroon ? Let thera ' coggher ' 
 till they are deaf. I'll warrant we'll outdo them ! 
 The sorra ring ever Mikle Gartland will put an you, 
 if I can prevint it. The doatin' ould fool ! Lord 
 pardon me for saying so — dosen't the world know 
 and say too— an' she ought to know it — that Jem 
 MuUin's your match of a husband any day in the 
 year, and of as dacent a strain as any belongin' to 
 you.' 
 
 ' I believe my mother, bein' marrid to my father 
 in mistake,' replied Alley, ' never was in love at all, 
 aunt. She thinks he's the best husband that has 
 the most 'airighid,' widout making no inclusion 
 whatsomever to anything else.' 
 
 ' Her in love ! I'll tell you, avourneen — she's my 
 shister, and sucked the same breast wid me, but I 
 could take the sacrament on it — you're her daugh- 
 ter, and I wouldn't say this to another — I could 
 take the sacrament that she never knew act or part 
 of love — may the heavens above forgive her this day 
 — oughtn't we all to pray for it ? I own her to bein' 
 as good a wife as ever broke bread, and as doatingly 
 fond of her man ; but as for love the Lord for- 
 give and forget it to her, and grant that it mayn't be 
 comin' agin her hereafther — a wurrah dheelish. 
 Amin.' 
 
 'Oughtn't every girl to love her husband before 
 she'd marry him, aunt ?' 
 
 'Her husband I Oeh, och ! you innocent erathur, 
 that makes no differ in the world. Och, oeh, oh ! 
 isthrue, isthrue !' sobbed the aunt, wiping'her eyes 
 with her apron ; ' the heavens be his bed this day ! 
 gallons itselt I'veJ shed over his grave if they 
 were counted. But he was the beautiful boy to 
 look at, wid his fine scarlet head upon him, that 
 you'd know among a ship-load of people — so red 
 and so illigant ; but that same was nothin' to his 
 choice bullies o' feet. He was jist two-an'-twinty 
 whin he took ill o' the mazles, and, as we had given 
 one another a hand-promise, I was cock sure of 
 him ; but isthrue ! it wasn't laid out for us, or he 
 would be spared. I promised to make a station to 
 Lough Derg, if he'd mend, and so he did get out o' 
 them at first ; but it was the dhregs o' the mazles 
 that carried him oft', aud I had to go, whin he was 
 
 dead, and take him by the right hand afore witness 
 to give back my promise. But, Alley,' she con- 
 tinued in a whisper — 
 
 ' Well, nunt, dheelish !' 
 
 ' If I'm a livin' woman, whin I cotch him by the 
 hand, and he stretcht, he gev me a squeeze.' 
 
 'Dsk, dsk, dsk !' exclaimed Alley, with a shud- 
 der of alarm, • the life 'ud start out o' myself, if he 
 did it to me. But, aunt, what if my mother has 
 found out about my runaway wid James Mullin to- 
 morrow night f 
 
 The aunt, however, had her apron up to her eyes, 
 rocking her head in the abstracted remembrance of 
 the beautiful boy who departed in the meazles, to 
 her undying grief. It was sometime, theretore, be- 
 fore she seemed to notice Alley's question ; but, on 
 perceiving it, she hastily squeezed her shrivelled 
 nose with her apron, in the bitterness of sorrow, 
 and replied — 
 
 ' Ay, ay, Alley ; no matther in life ' a hudh ' — 
 •we'll be man enough for all o' thim ; lave it to me, 
 Alley — here she's comin' — lave it to me, ye'see; 
 I'll have my eyes about me, and will go up to Vary 
 Kelly this evenin' ; for that aumadhaun, Paul, will 
 tell her all, and I'll get it out of her wid the help of 
 a stone o' male and a miscaun o' butiher.' 
 
 With this plan in view. Alley resumed her seat at 
 the kitchen fire, and continued her knitting, while 
 the aunt knelt down in the corner, and pulling out 
 her beads, began to finger them with great apparent 
 devotion, her piercing eyes half shut, and her body, 
 as usual, swaying to and fro, whilst she glanced, 
 from time to time, a keen side-look at the counte- 
 nance of the widow, with the hope of perusing upon 
 it any expression that might throw light upon the 
 mystery which she desired to penetrate. 
 
 The next morning widow Sheridan followed her 
 son to the garden, through which he sauntered, pipe 
 in mouth, with one hand thrust into his small-clothes 
 
 focket almost to the knee, and the other to the el- 
 ow in his bosom. 
 
 ' Owen !' 
 
 Owen pulled out his pipe and looked at her, let- 
 ting the smoke slowly out of his mouth, into which 
 he put the pipe once more with great deliberation, 
 and puffed away. 
 
 ' Owen, I say !' 
 
 ' Puff— um— what ?' 
 
 ' Come here, avick, and I'll give you five shillin's 
 for the fair, and a quarther o' tobacoy, maybe, of 
 Muckatee's pig-tail, abouchal.' 
 
 'No thin — um — will you ?' 
 
 'Faix, will I, if you do what I want you; and 
 maybe it's a watch I'll be'buyin' for you, some o' 
 these days.' 
 
 'Ay, but sure I've no pocket for it in my good 
 breeches.' 
 
 ' What matther, acushia ; you can wear it in your 
 coat pocket till 1 get another pair, when the tailure 
 can take the measure o' the watch for it, clane and 
 dacent." 
 
 ' Bedad, ay ! — ha, ha, um,(pufr,chuckle, chuckle) 
 — hoo ! haa !' 
 
 'Now, Owen, stay in the house all day, and 
 watch Alley till Icome back ; we're to have a match 
 makin' to-night, and you'll get whiskey, wid sugar 
 and hot wather in it, -and lots o' things.' 
 
 'No, thin !' 
 
 'Trog.s, ay', don't let her lave the house till I 
 come home, and along wid ye all, I'll buy you a new 
 Caroline hat in the fair.' 
 
 Owen instinctively took off his cauboen, and 
 viewed it with great contempt. 
 
 ' 1 want that, anyhow — um, hem — (pufi^ — if it 
 was Sunday mornin', I might shave myself in this 
 wid the way it shines — um, hem.' 
 
 ' Well, I'll get you one. Now go in, and dont 
 let an that I bid you at all at all ; but have an eye 
 to her, or if you don't you'll lose the weddin', 
 and the brave suit o" clothes you'll get for it.' 
 
196 
 
 IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 Owen nudded aascnt, and, with Btridca of a minute 
 each, futtrcd tlie liouno, to undertake ttie duty for 
 the day. Nothing, indeed, tuuld be more ludicrous 
 than the literal fidelity with which he performed it. 
 His sister could not move even from one side of the 
 kitchen to the other that he did not dodge after her 
 — up or down — hackwarda or forwards — from room 
 to room — he watched her with an. oali.sh vigilance 
 ■which nothing could vepreas. Several times he reso- 
 lutely opposed her egress from the house, and with 
 such a peiulinrly awkward air of mybtery, as in- 
 duced her to believe that his natural sluggishness of 
 temper was settling into downright idiotism. The 
 girl was annoyed, but as she liad nothing of impor- 
 ttuice that required her presence nbniud, his conduC, 
 created on her part more mirth than auger. Not so 
 the aunt ; after remonstrating with him by fair 
 words and abuse, and endeavoring, without success, 
 to wind out of him the cause of his vigilance, she 
 indignantly seized a sweeping-brush, which, with 
 all her bodily energy, she applied to his hack an(l 
 shoulders in the most unsparing manner, accom- 
 panying the action with suitable figures of rhetoric. 
 'Let me at him. Alley, I say, don't hould me,' 
 said she, addressing her niece, who was in convul- 
 •ions of laughter. ' Is it a lump of a spy we've got ? 
 — (a swinging blow) — a lump of a baste of a spy — 
 (the blow repeated twice) — a lump of a baste of a 
 bosthoon of a spy ! — (thrice) — Eh, you pot- walloper 
 you ! — (another) — isn't it a fine employment he's 
 got, to be watchin' the weemen, as if he was one of 
 us ! Why don't you put a petticoat on you at 
 once? (Ditto, ditto). Uad cess to me, but I'll 
 ludher the sowl out o' yourcareage, youringle-eyed 
 thief o" the world, you gander face vagabone ! 
 Och, och, wurrah ! isn't it the pity that the breath's 
 goin' out o' me, till I'd baste thebonesof him. Oh, 
 oh ! only I'm as wake as wather, I'd pay you wid- 
 out puttin' much in your pocket, you cot vou. Off 
 ■wid you, and mind the hens, you thief you." 
 
 * Behave yourself,' said Owen, whose head ■vTOs 
 protected by his arms ; ' let me alone, you kalliagh 
 — let me alone you ! behave I say ! if you don't, 
 be wind and weather, I'll smash the windows, so 1 
 will ! Now !' 
 
 The resolute old dame, however, once more took 
 breath, and changing her point of attack, came 
 across his shins with an activity and degree of 
 science really surprising. Owen, for a wonder, was 
 compelled to be nimble, and had not Alley herself 
 interfered, the old woman would have given him 
 cause to regret becoming dragon on this occasion. 
 With a fidelity, however, peculiar to sluggish peo- 
 ple, he continued to maintain his post, and actually 
 refused to permit his sister to leave the house until 
 the return of his mother. 
 
 This event was still involved in considerable mys- 
 terj ; nor was the widow's appearance in the even- 
 ing calculated to lessen the anxiety felt by her sis- 
 ter and niece on the cause of her absence. The good 
 woman was silent, reserved, and gloomy ; neither 
 did she appear to be free from apprehension and 
 alarm. But though endeavoring, as well as possi- 
 ble, to conceal her anxiety, she could not prevent 
 her displeasure from manifesting itself in sullen 
 glances at Alley and her aunt. These were return- 
 ed by the latter with interest, garnished, too, by 
 several dark hints and broken inuendoa, not at all 
 palatable. 
 
 No sooner had night set in than the neighbors be- 
 gan, to the evident surprise of Alley, to assemble in 
 the widow's kitchen, each armed with a gun, pistol, 
 pitchfork, flail, or cudgel. 
 
 ' AUcy," said the aunt, from the inner room, 'gut- 
 sho, a colleen — come here, girl. Sure," she contin- 
 ued, ' I didn't wish to be puttin' the grief upon you 
 before the time ; and when I tould you that Vary 
 Kelly knowcd nothing about it, it was a big lie — 
 the Lord pardon me — husht now, or all's over with 
 us ; don't kt them see you cryin" at all. I'll bate 
 
 them myself, stock, lock, and barrel, if you'U be | Booking the bam, she went very quietly to a back 
 
 said or led by me. Look at this windy— when I 
 give you this sign (crossing herself) be off through 
 it ; I loosened it myself when you and that auma- 
 dhawn wor palnverin' through the kitchen. Put 
 this jug o' wather undher the bed, and when the 
 whiskey conies I'll play-act all myself Sorra ring 
 ever the same (jartland 'ill put on you. I'd pur- 
 vint that, if it was only out o' clone conthraryncss. 
 Now husht, aluna, and lave everything to myself." 
 
 Karly in the night, two large jars of 'rale poteen" 
 were brought from Ornham's, and about nine 
 o" clock a party, amounting to about thirty stout 
 men, were ranged about the hearth, and in such 
 other parts of the kitchen as were best adapted for 
 their accommodation. Alley, by the command of 
 her mother, remained also in the kitchen, silent and 
 dejected, notwithstanding her aunl"s injunction to 
 overreach them by affecting mirth and humor. The 
 aunt, however, did not appear at all among them, 
 for, in fact, the nature of her plan rendered her 
 presence for some time longer unseasonable. 
 
 In the mean time, songs,stories, and whiskey cir- 
 culated with great rapidity. The widow, in her 
 kindness of heart, suffered no man to evade his 
 glass / nor, indeed, was there a single person pres- 
 ent disposed to do so. At length ten o'clock ar- 
 rived, and the old aunt made her appearance in the 
 kitchen ; but no sooner had she surveyed the fire- 
 arms that lay piled upon the dresser, than, giving a 
 shriek which startled the whole company, she sank 
 down in a fit. In a moment she was surrounded, 
 carried out to the street for air, had the palms of her 
 hands lustily clapped, and her face plentifully be- 
 dewed with cold water. These remedies had the 
 desired effect, and she gradually recovered. 
 
 ' Oh, wurrah dhcclish !— och, oh, oh, oh, livin' 
 mother ! but no matther ; Tm an ould, unsignified 
 craythur, not worth savin". Oh my, oh! has none 
 o" yces any feclin" to take them murdherin' guns, 
 and pisthols, and bagnets, and blunderbushes out o' 
 my sight r Out o' my sight wid them, except you 
 wish the life to lave me ! away up into that room 
 wid them, and put them on the bed, that the stone 
 walls 'ill be betu.xt us. Oh, livin" mother, such a 
 fright as I got ! TU not be the same thing to the 
 day o' my death. Och, och ! I'm goin" agin— a 
 dhrink o" wather, or I'm off. Wet my lips, some of 
 yecs, except yees wish to have me stiff on your 
 hands in no time all out." 
 
 ' For goodness sake, Mat Kearney," said the 
 widow, ' take and put them all upon the bed in 
 that room up there, or this foolish old crathur will 
 dhrop." 
 
 ' Ould is it ? Well, that bangs Banaghcr ! Is it 
 any wondher that people forget themselves ? — and 
 me never saw the light more nor twelve years, when 
 she was a stag of a hussey, cardin' 'backins' for the 
 Slevins. But no matther in life ; it's the house I'll 
 lave, if I'm spared for one night more anyhow j och, 
 och, isthrue, isthrue ! neighbors, if you knew but 
 all— well, sure I'll say nothin' ; it's takin" lave of 
 her sinscs the woman is, or she wouldn't turn her 
 own house into a barrack, as she's doin'. Och, och, 
 don't I desarve what I'm suffering for not takin' the 
 offer ofa dacent house o' my own, instead o' stand- 
 ing on another body's flure as 1 am.' 
 
 The guns and pistols were by this time placed 
 upon the bed, and, by a display of histrionic skill 
 that would not disgrace the first actress of the day, 
 either on or off the stage, she completely succeeded 
 in lulling any suspicion of the insincerity of what 
 she felt. By and by she got up, saying— 
 
 • Hand me that jug o' wather agin, Mick Duggan, 
 if you pla6e,tiU I wet my lips wid it, before I go out 
 to the bam, and sthrive to be makin" my sowl, any 
 way ; for I find it"s not long for this world I am. 
 Alley asthorc, hand me them hades tbat"s hangin' 
 on the dockin' in the corner beyant." 
 On getting the beads, she sallied out, but insteod of 
 
 window of the dwelling-house, which opened into 
 the room that now contained the fire-arms j in a 
 few minutes, with an alacrity which could not have 
 been expected from her, she squeezed herself 
 through, and taking the jug of water before men- 
 tioned, wet the pan and touch'-hole of every gun 
 and pistol on the bed, after which she quietly re- 
 turned through the window, leaving the arms per- 
 fectly useless. In the mean time, I'aul the Shot, 
 who had been detained long beyond his intended 
 hour, arrived, and by his presence not only enliven- 
 ed them with his drollery, but occasioned the whis- 
 key to be circulated more freely, if possible, than 
 before. 
 
 The night had now advanced to eleven o"cIock, 
 when the aunt entered, with a sadly devout face, 
 beads in hand. 
 
 ' Here, Alley, jewel, hang them on the dockin' 
 agin. Och, och ! it's sinners and fools we all are,' 
 she ejaculated, ' to be thinkin' of any thing but our 
 sowls. Asihore, Alley, go up into that room,' said 
 she to her niece, crossing herself as the signal, ' and 
 thry if you can find my little bottle of holy wather 
 that's some place in it ; but, for the love of heaven, 
 keep from them murdherin' guns and pisthols ; do'nt 
 come widout it, for I'll not be myself till I get a sup 
 of it an me.' 
 
 'Katy," said Paul, winking at the company, 'bud- 
 an'-age, sure such a good crather as you doesn't 
 want the half of the prayers you say ; but,any way, 
 you're what I call a tight ould blade.and commit very 
 little sin whin you're asleep.' 
 
 ' I kill no mutton thin, any how, Paul," said she. 
 
 ' Arrah, Paul," said one of ihem, ' will you tell 
 
 us tbe story about the time you wint to buy the 
 
 forty-piany for Colonel Edmon6on"s daughther, long 
 
 ago?" 
 
 ' God be wid them times," said Paul, 'they wam't 
 like now ; the ould sort o' gintlemen for me. I tuk 
 to the car-man-business thin," he continued, ' and 
 carrid it an tor some time well enough ; but I re- 
 mimber what l"m spakin' of was the first journey I 
 made to Dublin afther bein' ill. It was the very 
 year that Docthor Cooper — but he was only a horse 
 docthor — quack'd me to death with his calumny 
 pills ; he insisted, right or wrong, that I was subject 
 to thefallin' sickness — which, betune ourselves, was 
 no lie, at laste three or four times a week — when I 
 happened to get a sup in, you see — ha, ha, ha! 
 Well, he was a dhroU man, fond of his jokes, sure 
 enough. But for all that, sorra a thing ailed me, 
 only a slight touch o' pretinsion in the intellects — a 
 complaint, he said, very hard to cure all out, so that 
 I only wanted to be kept clear wid somethin' gintle. 
 My curse upon all quacks, any way ; the thief o' 
 the world bein' accustomed to dale wid horses, dosed 
 me upon too large a scole entirely, an' only for 
 Docthor Mansel, he'd have got thcouldNol Cooper 
 to make me a suit of Narroway fustian for the win- 
 ther, when I wouldn't be complainin' of a misfit, 
 even if it was tacked with thread that you'd hardly 
 know from sixpenny nails." 
 
 ' But, Paul, about the purchase r' 
 ' Troth I wasn't to be blempt for the same pur- 
 chase, but Masther Frank Edmonson, that put me 
 up to it out o" downright wicknedness. Awouh ! 
 it's there the money was as plinty as sklate stones, 
 or this young fellow wouldn't be at such a loss to 
 spind it in one divarsion or another; for he ped 
 dacent for his figaries. I had, ye see, an ordher for 
 
 a piana-forty to a Misther , och, I disremim- 
 
 ber his name; but he lived in Wishtmoreland street, 
 in the town o' Dublin." 
 
 ' Paul," says Masther Frank, ' will yon have 
 many things to bring for my father from Dublin ?' 
 
 ' Yes, sir,' says I, ' I'll have a piana-forty, plase 
 your honor, an' a lot of carpetin" and two tables ; 
 only Masther Frank, I'm afeard o' losin" my way in 
 that big place, or bein" cheated, or maybe gettin" my- 
 self into gaol." 
 
 J 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 197 
 
 ' WA\, 1 could sarve you if you'd keep a aiic>-<>«-' I ' We sell nothin' here but ropes," saya he- 
 Thry mo vr'ui •■■ '^•■-'•' ■'*.vs •■■• ' My father's | over the way.' 
 
 ' thry 
 
 throwiu' away money upon a piana-forty, and he 
 knows no more whether one is good or bad than a 
 cow does of a holiday — neither dooa my shister ;' 
 an' he winked knowingly at me. 
 
 'It's well,' said he, ' that it wasn't a plana -fifty 
 or a piana-sixty that he ordhered ; he's too lavish 
 entirely of his money,' says the cute young shaver, 
 ' an' it's a shame for a man of his years to be buy- 
 ing a musical coffin, when it's one of oak he ought 
 to be thinkin' of,' an' he winked so wisely at me 
 agin, that sorra one o' me ever suspected he was 
 only makin' a hare o' me. 
 
 ' Thrue for your honor,' says I, 'it's makin' his 
 sowl he ought to be," sure enough.' 
 
 ' Ay, an' all of us,' says he, very solemnly ; ' but, 
 Paul, in regard to what I'm spakin' about — I be- 
 lieve you are to pay forty pound, for this insthru- 
 ment, it's from that it's r.amad ; but if you take my 
 advice you'll buy a piana-thirty,and put the odd ten 
 pounds in your pocket for the benetit of your wife 
 an' childher. I've been very wild my.s#f. Paul, and 
 lavished a great deal o'. money, an' its full time for 
 me to begin to be charitable — hem, hem !' 
 
 Accordingly we made it up betwixt us, that I 
 should buy a piana-thirty, and pocket the differ; 
 but I got a writin' from under his hand, that he 
 should piy the money for me, if we'd be found out. 
 
 ' Now,' says he, as he finished it, ' you may as 
 well save twenty pounds as ten, for if you shew this 
 to the musical-coffin man, he'll take it in place of 
 ten pounds, an', besides, it gives you a good cor- 
 recthur, an' that's a very useful thing in this world, 
 Paul — hem, hem.' 
 
 Accordin'ly, when I came to Dublin, I went into 
 a house where they sowld them, an' inquired to see 
 a piana-thirty. The man looked at me. 
 
 ' Who is it for ?' says he. 
 
 ' You won't tell to-morrow, nabor,' says I, 'bar- 
 xin I change my mind. Have you a musical coffin 
 — a good, stout, beneficial piana- 
 thirty, that a man will get the worth 
 of his money of wear out of it ?' 
 
 He screwed his mouth to one side 
 of his face, and winked at a man that 
 stood in the shop, who it seems was 
 a fiddler; but, by dad! if Micky 
 M'Grory had seen him ! — why, I tnk 
 him for a gintleman. 
 
 ' Are you a musicianer ?' says the 
 other. 
 
 • I do a thrifle that way,' says I, 
 ' afther the Mnrph — hem — I mane 
 afther atin' my dinner,' says myself, 
 puttin' an the ' bodagh,' because no- 
 body knew me ; ■ but I never resave 
 payment for it — I discern that.' 
 
 ' How long are you out ?' says he. 
 
 ' Since last Winsday," says I, 'I'm 
 from home.' 
 
 ' An' where is that, pray ?' 
 
 ' Behind TuUymuclescrag, in the 
 parish of Xcemamucktaughalumkish- 
 la-beg.' 
 
 'I suppose,' says my customer, 
 < your last waistcoat was a great dale i 
 too sthrait for you ?' ^ 
 
 ' Not so sthrait as your own is at 
 present,' says I, (he was a small, 
 screw'd-up crathur, like a whitthrit) . 
 ' Will you show me the article I 
 want ?' 
 
 ' Do you see that shop over the 
 way,' said he, ' at the comer. You'll 
 get the article you want there.' 
 
 I accordingly went over, and in- 
 quired of the man b'-Uiiid the coun- 
 ter, if he could sell me a piana- 
 thirty? 
 
 I thin went buck ^to the' fellow; ' You thievin' 
 sconce,' says 1, 'did you mane to make a fool o' 
 me ?' 
 
 ' I never carry coals to Newcastle,' says the vaga- 
 bone. ' Go home to your frinds, my honest fellow, 
 an' you'll ase them of a great deal of throuble on 
 your account ; they miss your music afther dinner 
 very much,' says he. 
 
 ' Oh, said the fiddler, ' 'tis betthcr to direct the 
 man properly; he's a sthranger, ' — writin' down at 
 the same time a direction for me. ' Go to the house, 
 and inquire for the owner of it; say you're from 
 the eounthry, an' have pertecklar business that you 
 can tell to no one but himself, an' depind upon it 
 you'll get what you want.' 
 
 Off I set, an' at long last found a great house, an' 
 gave three or four thunderin' cracks at the door. 
 
 'I want to see the masther, very bad entirely,' 
 says I. 
 
 What's wrong ?' said a fellow, all powdher, wid 
 a tail giowin' from his head down his back. 
 
 ' I have news from the eounthry tor him,' says I, 
 ' that I can only tell to himself.' 
 
 Tne fellow looked frightened, an' lunnin' up the 
 stairs, brought down a gintleman wid a wig an' 
 black apron upon him. 
 
 ' Are you the music man ?' says I, ' that has the 
 piana-thirty for sale ? I want a musical coffin to 
 buy.' 
 
 ' Kick this scoundrel out, says the old chap, 'how 
 durst you let him in at all at all ? Out wid hini in- 
 to the chauncel.' 
 
 In three minutes we were in one another's wools, 
 but faix, in regard of a way I ha"d, I soon sowed 
 the hall wid them, and was atcackin' the oiild fel- 
 jow himself in a corner, whin a lot of gintlemen and 
 jadies came to his assistance, hearin' the ' millia 
 murthers ' he ris at the first dig in the ribs I hit 
 him. 
 
 '/////// 
 
 EGQ MARKETING. 
 
 I 'You ould dust,' says I, layin' on him, 'is this 
 any thratcmcnt for a dacent man that wants to give 
 you the preference in dalin' wid you, an' to lave 
 you good value for what I can get, you murtherin' 
 ould rap !' 
 
 At last I was seized, hand an' fut, till the offishera 
 would be sint for to take me to gaol. But, think- 
 ing of the conccthur that Master Frank gaved me, 
 I pulled it out, an' put it into the hands of one of 
 the gintlemen. 
 
 •' Here,' says I, ' ye ill conditioned vagrants, read 
 that, an' ye'U find that I'm no bird for the crib— it 
 ill show yees what I am.' 
 
 ' Sure enough, says he, lookin' at it, ' it describes 
 you to a hair, you villain ;' and he read it out. 
 
 ' This is to sartify, that the bearer Paul Kelly, is 
 a big rascal, an' any person securin' him will resave 
 a reward of thirty pounds, as he has broke out of 
 gaol, where he was confined for sheep-staliu'. He 
 is a man that squints with one eye, and wears a 
 long nose, turned with a sharp look-out towards 
 his left ear.' 
 
 ' May all kinds of hard fortune settle down upon 
 him that wrote that,' says I ; ' but he has fairly de- 
 saved me, the limb o' the mischief that he is. Gin- 
 tlemen,' says I' ' it's all but a mistake. Let me go,' 
 says I, ' an' I'll ne>er heed the music for this day, 
 any how— that I may never be as a bishop, but it 
 was all^a mistake. ' 
 
 ' Howsomediver, you'll find it a bad mistake to 
 bate a bishop,' said one o' them. 
 
 ' Oh, man o' Moses,' says I, was the black gintle- 
 man a bishop ? Paul, you're done for now. Oh, 
 murther, gintlemen dear, it's all of our own roguery, 
 or it wouldn't happen me. Oh.have consolation on 
 me, bishop jewel, and forgive me; sure, if I knew 
 it, when I was peggin' you up agin the corner in the 
 ribs, I'd suffered all kinds of visitation before I'd 
 give you a whack at all at all, plase your Rev- 
 erence.' 
 
 ♦It was all useless ; 1 was lugged off to the crib ; 
 and twasn't till the second day that 
 Masther Frank, who was in Dublin 
 afore me, though I didn't know it, 
 readin' his own correcthur of me in 
 the papers, along with the account o ' 
 the whole ruction, came, an' by giv- 
 ing an explanation to the bishop, got 
 me out ; but he gave me five pounds 
 for the joke, any how — for the cash 
 was flush with him, so that I was 
 very well ped for it; an' 'Paul,' 
 says he, as he put the money into my 
 hand, ' the thrick 1 played upon you 
 was because you consinted to be a 
 chate agin my father, that often be- 
 frinded you.' 
 
 (Concluded next week.) 
 
 ECO MARKETING. 
 
 Not unfrequently may be seen in 
 various parts of Ireland, as repre- 
 sented in the annexed cut, a girl 
 seated on a little rugged pony of the 
 Connemara breed, that supports, be- 
 sides her own weight, two large 
 panniers well tilled with the produce 
 of the poultry yard,which,likeaU oth. 
 er produce of value in the country, 
 from the poor man's eggs to the rich 
 man's beef and mutton fed on tlie 
 best lands in Ireland, have to be sent 
 to market — to an English market — 
 to furnisli money for landlords, which, 
 taken as a class, are the worst any 
 nation ever saw. 
 
 Wo do not ihink our girl is like 
 
 the hero! ne men tioncd in song, who says : 
 
 •I'll si'll my rock, I'll bcli my reel, 
 
 I'll sell my ouly spiuuing wheel, 
 
 To buy my love a eword ol steel.' 
 
198 
 
 miSH MISCELLANY. 
 
 (Kroni llie Catliolk- TtlcKrnphl vii-Uiil wiis oil foot, and was driven lo tlio »tt>i. \ 
 
 RCMINISOENaES OF NINCTV-EIOHT. BoUiiiun lu itiii'. uiideflnable pri>bK'in, ' When ahould 
 
 From Nov., ''.>", till ilic lrni|ilion in Muy, ''.'8, tlio rusistiince fominim-o I' who in tlii> ciiae olituincd. As 
 
 magistrates of the Countv of Wicklow met almost tho vultnre wing of pcrnecniiun Hupped over tlie land, 
 
 every week, and many of them were from tho ranks of resistance increased, and the people grusptd the re- 
 
 the old Volunteers ; and strange, though true, that maining weapons for dcfcDcc. 
 
 »tem demand put fonh hy them for their country's For a few weeks there was a sullen silence on the 
 rij-hts had now dwindled down to theHerce growl of patt of the sulR'ring people, save the groans of the | one of the most inilefuiigahle and deterniin.d of tho 
 the hyena. Every meeting produced its bitter fruiis ; whipped, the picketed, and half hung of our fi-llow United Ipislimen since ihc sahil wing of persecution 
 and although I Iwlievc that the magistrates were s»l>j.-eis. It was truly stated hy the Duke of Belford, 
 unconscious that they were working out the Union, in the Home of Lords, on the illh of June that year, 
 they were as 8ucees>rully playing towards that goal as ihu> — ' I think that to' Hog, to picket, or half hang onr 
 Billy Pitt could desire. Tho lust of these meetings fellow-sulyeels, in order to extort a confes.sion, is a put- 
 was h> hi on the 3rd of April, '98, Lord Powcrseourt ting to torture, and is, therefore, only outrageous 'o 
 
 care tho word — Foil into line— match — and • let slip 
 the dogs ui .... • („ a f,.,y mintttes they were at the 
 honse of Richard Neill (it should be i^itui ) ur u,.^<,r 
 Newcastle, in the county Wicklow, a hiijhlyTcspecta- 
 blc and extensive landowner, whose eldest son, Michael, 
 hud been denounced by the (Grange yeomen for qaaliiics 
 that are alway Kure to gain esteem. Me was certiinly 
 
 in the chair, when it was re-olvtd that the noble 
 president should apply personally to his Excellency 
 Lord Camden for a large reinforcement of dragoons 
 to protect the county tluii they were driving to disirac 
 tion, and that Newmwnmouiitkennedy should be their 
 head-quarters. Alter fhi^ meeting, one of the magis- 
 trates, Tom King, of Kalhdrum, used to tell his work- 
 men that the country was iu a high state of what he 
 called ' liberty fever,' but that ho knew no better 
 remedy for it than blood-letting, which they should 
 have. 
 
 A part of a Welsh n-giment, called the Ancient 
 Britons, were at this time i|nartcred in Bray, A troop 
 of them, under the command of Captain Burgany, got 
 the route for the former place, and marched there on 
 Easter Sunday morning, the 8ih of April. On their 
 arrival they wero hailed by the loyal inhabitants as 
 angels of deliverance. On Tuesday there was an 
 annual fair held there, which brought with it the 
 profits of industry and commerce to some, joy and 
 hilarity to tho young. But the loyalists had been 
 treating all the morning to deep potations of tho best 
 ■whiskey tho new comers, and pointing out the ob- 
 noxious persons as they entered town, that the Cam- 
 brian horse might commence the Ducan rince or war 
 dance, and flesh their maiden swords in Irish victims. 
 Their conduct on that day to the game that was set to 
 them is likened to a savage conflict among the cannibals 
 of the Southern Isles. 
 
 On the llth of May, the subsequent court martial 
 packer. Lieutenant General Peter Craig, issued his 
 fiery proclamation, on the model of Lake and Nugent 
 in the North, breathing vengeance to any person « ho 
 should have the temerity to ke^pa weapon, even their 
 own favorite shillelagh, to repel aggression, or to defend 
 their lives from the sabres of the volunteer murderers 
 of their kind. Even old scythes and reaping hooks 
 were ordered into the arsenal of the judicious and 
 humane general. The true councillors of the people, 
 the clergy, advised a surrender of arras, an a reliance 
 upon Providence to mitigate their cruel sufferings. 
 The confiding and timid acquiesced, and for the 
 tboaaandth time awaited another breach of British 
 honor. But the stern and distrustful bided their time, 
 then in vain. Arms now suriended, magistrates stood 
 erect, and strutted like ^Eeop's jackdaws in the 
 spangled plumes of the gaudy peacock, each affecting 
 to view himself as ore of the aboriginal magnates of 
 the land, although only ju.t after emerging from an 
 obscurity through which nooic but the sycophant 
 heraldic writers on Sj.xou Iberno claims could trace 
 a pedigree beyond ttie English poor-houses or prisons ; 
 but DOW from tlieir tyrant benches they hurl detiui>cia- 
 tions, deep, long, and lasting, at the people whom 
 their fathers had roblied. E.ch of those village tyrants 
 had their base satellites, who were baneriug honor, 
 virtue and soul for a pound note, or the capricious 
 smile of the, tyrant. Maher and his Kenneily, King 
 his Lubins, Bayly of Lamlierton had a g.iluxy of 
 smalUr ones. But Othello's occupation was gone 
 with the Chainneys and Nixuns. Their man of busi- 
 ness, Cooper, or propjrly Morgan, the English returned 
 convict, broke down, and was sent to an oat f.irm to 
 feed and fatten among the bioken-wiuded luforuiers 
 and perjurers. 
 
 Persecution now stalked through this lovely land. 
 The yromen hounded on the Britons, and Ih: latter 
 harked away the former. The game was up, the 
 
 humanity, but directly against Migna Charta, the 
 great corner stone of our la*s and liberties, as Sir 
 Edward Coke in his Commentaries defines,' 
 
 Justice was now suspended, the country was pro- 
 claimed, martial law was introduced, and thedilum 
 of beardless officers, unscrupulous and ignorant magis- 
 trates, took the seat of law and order. The dark 
 speck in the horizon was ascending to its culminat- 
 ing point, and exhiliiied the dimensions of the tornado. 
 Tlie Britons marchtd tlie streets with their swords 
 gleaming in the meriilian sun, and the blood of the 
 brave unarmed streaming from the point to the hilt. 
 Doyle of the Downs, Toner of Kilcoole, &c., were 
 flogged and picketed for three successive days. The 
 blood-cloud burst, and the people flew to action. It 
 was her« of erst that our Milesian ancestors ranked 
 themselves beside the brave and warlike Eman Oge 
 O'Brien, the chief of that district, with his meirge dub 
 (pro. duv), black flag, floating over them ; and near to 
 this that distinguished chief gave an eternal resting 
 place to the in.idel and pirate Dane, in 1012, among 
 the glens and eskers of Delganagh (Dolgany, the 
 sandy district), as Subsequently the WexI'oidmeu did 
 on tho plains of Baliyellis to nambers of Britons, the 
 no-quurtet-men of Wales. But in this day concert 
 and discifjliiie were strangers to the multitude, despis- 
 ed and whipped like hungry hounds ; and the yeomeu 
 and Britons seemed as if ihey had done nothing for the 
 last six months but rehearse the bloody drama of old 
 Sir Charles Coote. 'Tham um hi je na crannaer 
 Cnoc a-Dun Ran' — Anglicised : I am sealed in the 
 shales of the hill of Dun Kan taking a letiospective 
 of the Stol Orgain (seat of slaughter), where the 
 ducan rince was doomed of old by Cromwell, Coote, 
 and Co., on Kilcarrow hills, Newraih, and Gl-'ndy 
 bridges. These feajs were now re-enacted with all the 
 improvement of growing refinement ; but poor old 
 Archer had to perform a double character, his own 
 part and that of the Welsh Burgany, the Cromwell of 
 the day, who was sleeping his last sleep in his well 
 earned crimson shroud. The scenic field of Coote and 
 Co. was merely transferred to Newtown Collaliill and 
 Killiskey, and the low-bred smug Leasly and Griftin 
 Jones well sustained the scarlet characters of Captain 
 Ghee and Barringion. Captain Burgany, who fell the 
 day before in an attack on Newtown, was to be 
 interred ; horse and font attended iu all the habili- 
 ments of mourning, to celebrate his funeral with all 
 the martial pomp due to a falling warrior. They 
 raarcheil with arms reversed, and stepped as slow and 
 steady as a surcharge of whiskey would permit. The 
 Briton's band struck up the Deal March in ' Saul,' 
 while the fife and drum of the yeomen gave out some 
 lively variations, sucii as 'the Bo\ne Water,' and 
 ■ Croppy Lie Down.' Now aiiu again there w.is an 
 ocia«ional half i-hoaked utterance of Idasphemy, plainly 
 indicating that there was somethitig cuAcealed in the 
 drunken silence. 
 
 It must be remembered that this land, so rich in the 
 gifts of nature, with its floral dicoraiions, gar'ands, 
 and orange lillies, was promised to the young Britons 
 before they left the Cumbrian mountains, nevulo relum. 
 That promise had filled their ruthless souls with the 
 ' glories of the tented fielil.' 
 
 When the last fhiivclfull of clay fell on tho mortal 
 remains of Captain Bungany, and the troops had per- 
 formed all the honors assigned lor such occasions in 
 the military ritual for the gallant slain, Caplaia Ar(±er 
 
 was spread over his unhappy country, and no man in tho 
 rountry was better versed in the Becrets of that society. 
 His name was in the first list of the freemen oi that 
 tyrant trodden country. His strength, ngiliry, and 
 unbending courage, was the common theme with the 
 lovers of the brave and daring. He was as qnict and 
 playful as a child. Notwithstanding hii passive dis- 
 position, he at times found it necessary to chastise tho 
 increasing insoU'Uce of his Orange neighbors, and for 
 this ho was both feared and hated to the core. About 
 three nights bclorc the attack on Newtown, he and a 
 few of the favorite conspirators were on their mission 
 of insurrection, each well armed. At a turn in a 
 lonely road they met with Captain Archer, their most 
 mortal enemi^ On eiibi r ^ide the proximity whs un- 
 welcome. Archer pulled up in a very agitated man- 
 ner, hesitated for a moment, and then srid good night 
 boy*:; good night kindly, was the response. As soon 
 as he reached Mount John he told his family that he 
 hail a surprising narrow escape — that he met M. Neill 
 and a party of armed men, when, if they were so dis- 
 posed, they could have taken his life without any one 
 else knowing of it. and spoke in high terms of Neill's 
 manly conduct, and the Gael thought he had gained a 
 step in Archer's favor. . The farm yard was now 
 filled with horse and foo', and the aged father came 
 out to them. They assailed him with their swords, 
 cutting, hacking, and knocking him from one to 
 another, using all the low and abusive Cj iihcts that 
 hell could supply them with. 'Don't spare the old 
 rebel, don't .'pare the tiuitor,' shouted Archer to his 
 furies. On their approach, Michael had just time to 
 retire to a little shrubbery a few yards distant. Here 
 the screams of sisters at the treatment of their father 
 reached his ears ; they were too much for his manly 
 soul to bear. He rushed, but in vain, to the ncue of 
 his father, and in his turn knocked the enemy about in 
 approaching his bleeding ]>arent, who survived but a 
 few years, hut never recover! d from tho ill treatment 
 of that evening. ' Here I am,' he exclaimed, ' spare 
 my father you cowards, it is me you want.' His 
 e Aborts at resistance were but faint; he was instantly 
 recognised, and a hurricane of traitor, villain, rebel, 
 &c., assailed him from every tongue — swoids, pistols, 
 and carbineswerc thiik and threefold pointed ai his 
 ii.anly and devoted head and breast. He was soon 
 overpowered, and the welkin rang with the shouts of 
 victory. 'Tie him up, tie him up,' exclaimed the 
 hoarv-headed Archer — ' lie him up well' was shouted 
 by the yeonun, for even still they feared him. They 
 also seized his young brother Patrick, a lad of seven- 
 teen years of age, and in five minutes more the 
 house and offices were blazing up to heaven. The 
 destruction of that large properly filled the demons 
 wiih uproarious joy. A rope was now tied round his 
 neck, and one made fast to each wrist, and secured to the 
 girths of two of the saddles. The cavalcade*wheeled 
 round, and an infantry yeomen shouted out that his 
 legs should be secured. They got into a smart trot 
 for half a mile. When passing by Newcastle they 
 were assailed by some Protestant women — none other 
 dare interrupt the ovation. They intercepted their 
 progress by standing in front of the rear guard with' 
 stone*, and as this party advanced with Patrick they 
 vigorously plied the missiles with all the in^ultillg 
 epithets to be found in indignant women's vocabulary. 
 ' Let go the young one, you villian,let him go;' and Mrs. 
 .Tones and a few of her amazonia neighbors plied the 
 ronnd shot of the road with such unerring eflect that 
 the no-quarter heroes gave the youth his liberty and 
 life. For three En;;liali miles ahmg an ixectdingly 
 narrow road this noble fellow was dragged often under 
 their horses' feet in a rapid trot, pricked with their 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 199 
 
 sworJs when lie fell, prcj-scil close between their j 
 (•Iuii-!;er9, and then the ro\v>lsof their spuis d.isheJ 
 into his lueeriited siiles. This was not mere accident, 
 but a new species of torture that those Welshmen had 
 introduced. In this state they reached Newtown. 
 When they arrived at the old den, the market-house, 
 he was thrown on the floor of that i>olated dungeon 
 without an accessory of any kind attached to it for 
 the most common decencies of life, than to stifle in the 
 Bccumlatcd nuisance and corrupting blood of nnmher- 
 less victims for the last fortnight. They unbound two 
 bands, and demanded a confession of his guilt and of 
 those of his associiues. His answer was a smile 
 of contempt. Strip and flog him was shouted from 
 every corner of the densly crowded building — strip, 
 strip, and we'll soon make you tell. To this iniper.i- 
 tive demand he replied with a look of the most 
 soverign indignation. They diagged his clothes oH^ of 
 hira, and applied the bloody Utshes with a practised 
 dexterity, until his fltsh looked like a putrid liver, still 
 demanding of him to inform. The market-house was 
 full of prisoners, and it was found to be too incon- 
 yenient to perforin the remaining acts of ih bloody 
 drama. He was escorted down to another guard 
 house. Here, although with great difficulty, he was 
 picketed. This was a spike of wood or iron twelve or 
 eighteen inches long, fastened upright in the floor; 
 the victim was put with one foot on the point of it,and 
 by a rope fastened to the opposite arm he was hauled 
 to some fastening overhead, so that the weight was 
 divided between the fulcrum and pully, and then 
 ■wheeled round on it as long as it afforded pastime to 
 the torturers. At every turn they asksd, 'Will you tell 
 now.' 'I'll tell you nothing,' was the stern reply. 
 Taken down, he lay fur some time quite exhausted on 
 the floor. The merciless passed round and round 
 him, digging the rowels of their spurs intn his sides, 
 neck, and head. Enraged at being foiled in the hopes 
 of information, they were Imsy in making preparations 
 fur another act of torture. Their victim saw this, and 
 thinking it to be the lust and finishing one — that is, 
 that they were going to strangle him — he raised him- 
 self on his knees, and addressed his God with all the 
 firmness and resignation of a martyr. His persecutors 
 passed before him, drooping on one knee, tracing the 
 sign of man's redemption on their infidel foreheads in 
 mockery, and blasphemously told him to get his 
 Holy Mary to come and save him. They now rushed 
 on like tigers, tucked him up, and half hung him. 
 When they let him down he reeled, he staggered, not- 
 withstanding his most powerful eflforls to preserve his 
 balance. In this delirium the monsters pushed him 
 about. He fell first on the floor, and then the yell of 
 heartless triumph, loud and long, such as might 
 astonish furies — ' ye'll in form now, willyou.' But, in 
 despite of his great sulferings, he smiled with scorn at 
 the idea of forcing from him a confession. They 
 changed their imperative notes to entreaties. Both 
 were equally futile. Now, lying prostrate, they dashed 
 their spurs into him, his lips and cheeks were split, his 
 eye balls forced from their sockets, and hanging on his 
 cheeks. ' Tell us something now, and you shall be 
 spared.' He paused for a moment, and then said, 
 ' Bring me Captain Archer, and I will tell hira some- 
 thing.' Archer was sent for to the hotel. The tyrant 
 lost no time in attending, and immediately asked him 
 what he had to tell. ' I don't choose to tell you here, 
 sir; is there not a room here; come into it with me.' 
 'No, no,' said Archy, in a fright. ' I will not; tell 
 me where you are.' He stretched forth his arms to 
 grope, for he was perfectly blind. ' Don't let him get 
 near me — keep him from me,' shouted Archer 
 aloud. A blow of a carbine laid him prostrate. 
 Rising again to his feet in a fit of desperation, he 
 accidentally laid his hand on an iron weight of 
 twenty-eight pounds, and in his blindness he seized 
 on one of the Britons and beat his brains out. A 
 Becond rushed to save his comrade ; but he sent 
 him reeling to the ground with a blow or two of the 
 same weight. Uproar succeeded consternation. 
 'Take his life,' was the cry. He then hurled the 
 weight with great force into the midst of them, 
 
 when it struck another of the Britons on the head 
 also. The confusion of Pandemonium could not 
 exceed that of the guard-house. 
 
 Now Arch(;r ordered him to be dragged out into 
 the street, and a dozen of balls sent through him. 
 The order was instantly complied with, and as he 
 fell, James Williams, the infantry yeoman who 
 wanted to have his legs tied when he was made 
 prisoner, ran up to him and plunged his bayonet 
 to the socket, and turned it round in his carcase. 
 He was now stripped naked, and dragged from the 
 street to a field adjoining. A small dog, supposed 
 to be his, was shot, and thrown on his mutilated 
 body. After lying there for a considerable time, 
 his sisters ventured to bring a cofiin and take hira 
 away, for no male dare accompany them, and but 
 few women would have the courage to venture on 
 such an errand. 
 
 He lies in KiUadeany churchyard, with a grave- 
 stone, rather rudely lettered, to mark his resting- 
 place. I would place a marble tomb over him if he 
 were my relative. The rank herbage around his 
 grave is well trodden down by the visitors to his 
 grave at each funeral, where his countrymen and 
 women drop on their knees, and oflPer many a fer- 
 vent prayer for his eternal happiness. The first 
 Briton that he struck died on the spot. The other 
 two were brought into Bray hospital, where the 
 second died in a few days, and report says that the 
 third died in a few weeks; in each case the skull 
 was severely fractured. 
 
 Reader, whoever you may be, if you ever go to 
 Newtownmountkennedy, as you go from Dublin, 
 and cross the little arch that spans the rivulet that 
 waters the town, look to the right, and between 
 you and that neat tavern, kept by a Mr. Maguire, 
 you will see the spot where the .inhuman butchery 
 of Michael Neill, of Upper Newcastle, was perpe- 
 trated by the Newtown yeomen and Ancient 
 Bitons, on the 1st of June, 1798. May he rest in 
 peace. A Milesian. 
 
 P. S Ths no-quarter regiment met the Wex- 
 
 fordmen on the plains of Ballyellis, on the 30th of 
 June, and received a complete overthrow, their en- 
 emy losing not one man, and when they called for 
 quarter, they were told they should have the same 
 as they gave. A few of them returned to Newtown 
 and acknowledged that they were hounded on by 
 the Orange yeomen as soon as they landed in Ire- 
 land. And one of them said, in the presence of a 
 man still living — 'I never but in one battle raised 
 my hand to a man, and those who were most vio- 
 lent met the crudest deaths.' 
 
 In a short time after, Archer's war-steed kicked 
 his brains out. His swearing man, Kennedy, died 
 a miserable death, and lies buried in Kilcoole, 
 where Nature, for the last forty years, even against 
 the sowing of seeds, has sternly refused to clothe 
 with verdure that part of the grave over his breast, 
 although the herbage all round grows there most 
 luxuriantly. 
 
 King, of Rathdrum, died of a loathsome and 
 filthy disease; and his swearing man, Lewins, fell 
 in broad daylight by the hand of his own unnatural 
 son. 
 
 King, of Baltinglass, who drew up a false and 
 perjured accusation for a wretch taken from under 
 the lash to swear to, lost that hand, and lived for 
 some short time a spectacle of horror and contempt; 
 and his swearing man, Hugh, the Cock, tted the 
 country, and never was heard of since. ' A. JI. 
 
 OuTiroouAPiticALTuANSMOORiFicATioN. — A black- 
 smith lately made out a bill against one of his cus- 
 lotners, in which a charge was intended to be made 
 for steeling two mattocks, i. e., putting steel to the 
 iron points of the instruments. But the son of Vul- 
 can, who had been more used to wielding a sledge- 
 hammer than studying Doctor Johnson, actually 
 wrote the following item ; ' To stealing two mad 
 ducks, 23 r 
 
 SCENERY AND TRADITIONS OF IRELAND. 
 
 Who has not heard of the lakes of Killarny — 
 those beautiful gems sparkling in the midst of the 
 most lovely scenvry in the world— lakes, every one 
 of them rivalling that far-famed one of Como, on 
 the banks of which the bards of yore, and those of 
 modern times, dwelt and caught inspiration in the 
 silvery gleam flung over the waters by the morning 
 sun ? And although the lakes of Killarney may 
 not boast of a Pliny angling from his window, or 
 a Virgil looking out in sweet contemplation from 
 his farm, they have had their CatuUuses by the 
 score to sing the praises of their beauty, and at this 
 moment thousands of our countrymen and country- 
 women are acknowledging the truthfulness of their 
 vivid descriptions, and feeling in their delicious 
 wanderings that, far away from the hum of traffic 
 and the bustle of the world's contentions, 
 ' Nature dwells 
 'Mid laughing vales, 'raid rosy smiling bowers 
 And velvet lawns, embroidered o'er with flowers; 
 Fantastic shores, that varied charms display. 
 Of cliff, and bower, and many a shady bay, 
 Where waving groves o'er crystal mirrors rise. 
 And ope to heaven their variegated dyes.' 
 And let us hope, amid all the satisfaction we ex- 
 perience over the circumstance of Ireland having at 
 last powerfully attracted the attention of the higher 
 and middle classes of England, that the hospitality, 
 the kindness, and the heartiness of the reception 
 accorded to those who are now rambling along the 
 shores of her bewitching lakes, may 
 ' Reach the heart, 
 And through tlie heart the head, clearing away 
 The narrow notions that grow up at home.' 
 Ireland, with her music, 
 
 ' The only universal tongue,' 
 her ancient raths and green rings, with their ' good 
 people,' the fairies, who wander 
 ' Over hill, over dale. 
 
 Through bush, through brier, 
 Over park, over pale, 
 Through flood, through lire;' 
 her romantic glens, peopled with shadowy ' grey 
 old men ;' her traditions of a stirring and chivalrous 
 age, and her own right men-y heart, render her the 
 most interesting country in Europe to the tourist ; 
 and were we to select a spot which we would wish 
 tef visit first, it should be Killarney, where, at this 
 season of the year, scarcely a breeze ruffles the sur- 
 face of her lakes, and when it does, 
 ' Wave after wave, 
 If such they may be called, dashed as in sport. 
 Not anger, with the pebbles on the beach 
 Make wild music.' 
 
 ' Every spot, remarks a pleasing writer, ' in this 
 region of romance has its legends. It is indeed a 
 marked trait in the Irish character, and one highly 
 illustrative of the imaginative genius of the people, 
 that general tendency to associate the wild and sub- 
 lime with the marvellous and beautiful in nature. 
 Every glen and rath, every lake and island, posses- 
 ses its legendary tale ; but, alas ! they remain al- 
 most unknown. England has the philosophic an- 
 nalist of her smiling plains and ancient towns ; she 
 has the poet of her lawns and rivers. Scotland can 
 exult in her gifted sons, who have made her ro- 
 mantic land known to fame ; she has had her Burns 
 in song, and her Scott in those stirring tales that 
 celebrated her picturesque mountains and storied 
 lakes. Who has done — who will do — so much for 
 the interesting traditions, the neglected scenery of 
 Ireland ?' 
 
 We trust the apathy here feelingly complained ot 
 has now passed away, and that a bard will ere long 
 arise who will do that which Moore, with his bright 
 fancy, might have successfully accomplished when 
 in the prime of his genius, lie left behind him a 
 wreath for the brows of some highly gifted devotee 
 of the Muses ; and that it may be soon claimed is 
 the devout wish of all who have been gratified with 
 a few straggling pages of Irish romance. 
 
200 
 
 IRISH MISCELLANT. 
 
 The lake* are divided into the lower, the middle, 
 and the upper. The lo\%'er lake ii distinguished for 
 its elegance and benutr, being studded with rocks 
 and wooded islands, covered with a variety of ever- 
 greens. The upper one, on the contrary, is rcmnrK- 
 ablc for its wild sublimity and grandeur; while the 
 middle lake combines, in a great degree, the char- 
 acteristics of the other two. 
 
 Uoss is more properly a peninsula than an island, 
 being eepamted from the main land only by a nar- 
 row cut through a morass, which it is more than 
 probable was a work of art, with a view to strengthen 
 the fortifications of the castle. The island, for so 
 it roust now be termed, is the largest of the lakes, 
 containing about eighty plantation acres. 
 
 Iloss Custle stands on the flat side of the lower 
 lake, and the road to it is a causeway over a mo- 
 rass, which is reduced to an isthmus by inlets of 
 the lake on either side. The castle is built on a 
 rock, and the only remains arc the large quadran- 
 gular tower, and two flankers in a ruined state. It 
 is said to have been built by the powerful sept of 
 the O'Unnaghoes. it was a place of strength in the 
 time of Urumwcll, and resisted for some time the 
 
 So auspicious was the reign of this excellent' 
 prince, that his memory is still preserved, and it is ! 
 believed among the peasantry, at this day, that he 
 someiimes quits the regions of immnrtal bliss, i(nd 
 appears in person among the descendants of liis 
 people. The appearance of O'Donaghoo is considered 
 a most ])ropitiou» omen to the person who is fortunate 
 enough to behold him; and the eye of the wander- 
 ing peasant eagerly searches for him along the wind- 
 ings of the lake. The prince is always described as 
 being mounted on a milk-white steed. May it not, 
 then, he supposed that the white foam of a distant 
 wave, suddenly curled up by a gust of wind from 
 the mountains, has often been converted by the en- 
 thusiastic imagination of the simple and supersti- 
 tious native into the semblance of a hnr-^e and his 
 rider, whose preternatural appearance his interest 
 and credulity are alike perpetually anticipating? 
 
 The name of O'Donaghoe is i ommon in the town 
 of Killarney and throughout the neighboring dis- 
 trict ; and a person who is deemed to be the lineal 
 descendant of the aneiei\t chieftain of the sept or 
 clan is sedulously distinguished from the rest ; not, 
 however, by the means of a pompous title, but, on 
 
 To those who love originality mi.Ycd up with 
 quaintnesa, and no small amount of shrewdness and 
 good humor, it is no ordinary treat to sito„ a moss- 
 covered stone, and inviting some ancient shanahua 
 to lake a seat by your side, listen to her garrulous 
 remarks. She will be sure to tell you a story, or 
 relate some fairy legend ; and the best plan to deal 
 with her is to chime in with her humor, and allow 
 her, in the usual Irish way, to begin by asking you 
 a question. 
 
 Of course the several legends connected with the 
 name of O'Uonoghoe have their source in this, 
 his Castle of Iloss. The peasantry will point out the 
 window from which he leaped inlo the lake when 
 he exchanged his sovereignity on earth for that of 
 the waters under it. He was endowed, they say, 
 with the gift of transforming himself into any shape, 
 and his wife requested him to exhibit some of his 
 transformations before her. lie warned her that if 
 he did so, and she displayed any symptoms of fear, 
 they would lie separated forever. She stil persisted, 
 in the spiiit of female curiosity, and in perfect con- 
 fidence that she could look on unmoved. On his 
 assuming, however, some very terrible shape, she 
 
 attacks of the parliamentary army, under the com- 
 mand of General Ludlow. 
 
 As to the age in which O'Donaghoe flourished, 
 it is not easily determinable; but that a great chief- 
 tain did once reign over this favored region, is a 
 point established by the testimony of concurrent 
 tradition. He is represented like the demi-gods 
 of old — a contemner of danger, a sworn foe to op- 
 pression, a passionate admirer of what is great and 
 honorable. The severity of his warlike virtues was 
 tempered by a generous hospitality, which embraced 
 a friend in every stranger. The rigor of the legis- 
 tor was blended and lost in the endearing condes- 
 cension of the friend; the prince was the father of 
 his country; his court was the seat of joy and fes- 
 tivity; wortli took its place at the board by inhe- 
 rent birthright; grey hairs received their reverence, 
 and distressed innocence had a peculiar plea of ad- 
 mission, for humanity was paramount, and sus- 
 picious policy absolutely unknown. He was wise, 
 too, and the gods sped his counsels, for his subjects 
 were happy. Fruitful seasons crowned the year 
 with plenty, and undisturbed tranquility led the 
 way to enjoyments 
 
 ROSS CASTLE. 
 
 the contrary, by being called simply O'Donaghoe ; 
 to annex even the common title of Mr. to his name 
 would be considered a gross derogation from his 
 dignity. 
 
 A strange and original species of character haunts 
 the margins of the lakes, and the traveller would 
 lose a great treat were he to neglect their polite in- 
 vitations to hear a fairy tale, or some obscure ro- 
 mance of the olden time, when Ireland had men 
 who went abroad in armor. In ancient times the 
 ahanahus, or professional story-teller, was the his- 
 torian and genealogist of the great families of the 
 country; he recorded the heroic acts of the chiefs 
 and princes, and preserved the memory of illustri- 
 ous names. Hut as the changes of society hurried 
 on, and the feudal power of the ancient hou.ses be- 
 gan to decay, the records of fallen greatness became 
 a theme ungrateful to the ears of the fallt'n gentry, 
 and, to use the words of Carleton, that fine painter 
 of Irish manners, 'from the recital of the high deeds 
 and heroic feats of bygone days, the shanahus sank 
 down into the humble chronicler of hoary legends 
 and dim traditions.' The profession is now exer- 
 cised indifferently by old persons of either sex. 
 
 shrieked with terror. He immediately sprang from 
 the window into the lake below, and remains there 
 an eachanted spirit ; his enchantment to continue, 
 until, by his brief annual ride, the silver shoes are 
 worn out by the attrition of the surface of the 
 water. It would appear that the immortal chieftain 
 can be no other person than the identical O'Dono- 
 ghoe, who surrendered Iloss Castle to the parlia- 
 mentary General Ludlow. The castle is famous in 
 Irish history, as being the last in Munster to hold 
 out against the parliamentary array. 
 
 In 16o2, Ludlow, the successor of Ireton, assisted 
 by Sir Ilardress Waller, laid seige to it. It was 
 defended by Lord Muskerry, with a sufficiency of 
 troops, and an ample supply of provisions; yet 
 the castle, «o well prepared for defence, surrendered 
 upon articles, without striking a blow. The cir- 
 cumstance is attributable to the terror that seized 
 upon the garrison, when they beheld war-ships 
 floating on the lake, in fulfilment of an ancient 
 prophecy, which foretold that the castle could be 
 taken only when an event occurred — almost as im- 
 probable as that ' Birnam Forest ' should come ' to 
 DunBinane.' 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 201 
 
 IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 BOSTON, SATUIiDAY, NOVEMBER 6. 1858. 
 
 HOW OLD ARE YOU? 
 
 This question, when proposed to an individual, is 
 not always regarded as a civil one, and the unlucky 
 questioner is generally set down as a boor, who 
 does not know how to behave or what to say in 
 company. It is often said that women of a 'certain 
 age' are peculiarly sensitive to questions concerning 
 their age, but men of a 'certain age' are quite as 
 indignant, to say the least, when touched upon this 
 BOre point, especially that tolerably large class of 
 men who cannot hide the signs of coming old age, 
 and yet, from some worldly motive, would be per- 
 mitted to pass in society as young men — as the men 
 of the age. 
 
 It is not so with those communities, or aggre- 
 gates of communities, called peoples or nations. 
 Old age is honorable with them; so is even middle j 
 age. The man loves youth and the season of ripe 
 manhood because, after a while, he must go hence, 
 and be no more seen. The nation counts her years i 
 and her ages with honest pride, because there is in 
 the inmost recesses of the heart of each separate ! 
 people the deeply-rooted feeling that, though indi- | 
 viduals may pass away, a nation never dies. The 
 somewhat numerous exceptions to this rule are dis- 
 posed of by saying that when a nation, as such, 
 gives up ihe ghost, it is because the people have 
 become utterly corrupt, soul and body, and are 
 thus unable to discharge the duties incumbent on 
 members of a body politic; or it is because God has 
 willed that the nation shall die, not for the imbe- 
 cility or wickedness of the people, but for hidden 
 purposes of his own. 
 
 Let us select from universal history a few ex- 
 amples, by way of illustrating the point before us, 
 ending, most probably, in another number of the 
 Miscellany, with the case of old Ireland. 
 
 Take America, lo begin with. She is the young- 
 est nation, and, at the same time, a power on the 
 long list which the world's history presents of in- 
 dependent nationalities. Brazil stands near ; as for 
 the other countries south of the United States, the 
 less said of them the better. 
 
 America is nearly two hundred years old. It is 
 frequently said that she was born July 4th, 1776, 
 but her national life, though not half developed, 
 ■was as real before that year as afterwards; a form 
 was added; the substance was already there; a 
 chain was broken, the instant its weight began to 
 be felt by the people. The provincials, as the 
 Americans were called, were freemen before the 
 Revolution, and the elements of American national 
 life began at once to combine and do their work, 
 when the Scotch Irish of New Hampshire, the Pu- 
 ritans of Massachusetts, the Dutch of New YDrk, 
 the Quakers and Irish of Pennsylvania, the Catho- 
 olics of Maryland, the cavaliers of Virginia.and the 
 Huguenots of Carolina, planted their colonies, 
 formed little republics, and began to feel thai^ they 
 were free states. It is not too much to say that the 
 colonies, which'soon began to know each other, and 
 to feel their strength, enjoyed as much real freedom 
 in 1758 as the States do now, making all allowance 
 for the different exigences and characters of the 
 times at these two periods. And so it has been 
 truly said that America did not rebel against Eng- 
 land; that the traitor was not the American people, 
 but the British government, and the king lost the 
 title as nominal sovereign in America, because his 
 ministers assailed the liberties of men who had been 
 always freQ. , 
 
 Nevertheless, America is a young nation. She is 
 half ashamed, half proud of the fact. She is proud, 
 
 because there is so mucli in the eye of the world to | 
 be admired in the freshness, confidence, vigor, dar- 
 ing, and beauty of youth. Her pride herein is like 
 that of the young man who was just of age, and 
 was about to vote for the first time. As he marched 
 to the ballot-box, with an ill-concealed air of im- 
 mense importance, as if he were trying to forget 
 that everybody was looking at him, and that his 
 vote might settle the destinies of the nation, and 
 perhaps change the face of the whole world, he 
 saw some eight or ten statesmen who had grown 
 old in the service of their country, quietly deposit- 
 ing their suffrages for the next President. 'Ah!' 
 said the young man, 'look there. Mr. A., who is 
 now dropping his vote, has served the country in 
 all sorts of high offices these thirty years past. 
 When he was in Congress, I wasn't born. And 
 yet I can do as much here as he can. My vote is 
 as good as his. And, as he is not on our side, my 
 vote will destroy his! ' And so America is half 
 proud of her youth. 
 
 She is half ashamed of it, though. She naturally 
 wishes to be received on a footing of perfect equal- 
 ity in the family of great nations, and, to a certain 
 extent, she is so received; but as she bustles to her 
 seat, her quick eye perceives, not without inly 
 promising herself revenge, a meaning smile ex- 
 changed among the other members of the great fam- 
 ily. She presently finds that her neighbors are 
 very proud of the high antiquity of their respective 
 nations. Russia and Prussia are comparatively 
 new-comers; but each has her government with all 
 those forms which were venerable ages ago, pnd 
 hence, although comparatively young, they seem 
 old, and they are strong, and full of old world cun- 
 ning. America is what is called a 'fast' nation; 
 she tries to do as many things as possible at once, 
 at the risk of doing nothing well, and -she tries to 
 crowd the events, and, of course, the labor of years, 
 into the space of as many months, and this is a 
 thing which makes nations, as well as men, soon 
 begin to look old. And so America talks about all 
 the great things which she has done, and the greater 
 things which she intends to do. The two great 
 oceans wash her shores,and open a highway lo every 
 part of the world. When America is named, who 
 thinks of the British or Russian possessions or set- 
 tlements, of Mexico, Central or South America r 
 The United States only are thought of. And all 
 these other states, provinces, colonies and settle- 
 ments will one day be integral portions of America, 
 in name and in fact, as well as in the maps and 
 geographies in use in schools. And America, 
 glancing at the mirror, as she concludes her oration, 
 thinks that she discovers two or three incipient 
 wrinkles in her face — the efi'ects of fast living — and 
 she calls the atten'ion of her neighbors to them, as 
 a proof that, if she be not aged, she is growing old. 
 
 Yet she cannot but reflect that the diplomacy, 
 with a strong army to break it, has enabled Eng- 
 land at least twice to outwit her in Central America. 
 She has no diplomacy, and no standing force to 
 back it at any moment, and all this, notwith- 
 standing the long and loud talk about the Munroe 
 doctrine. President Buchanan seems determined to 
 do something in this direction ; let us patiently 
 await the result of his experiment. America has 
 talked for years of constructing a railroad to the 
 Pacific. A wagon road was opened the other day, 
 but the railroad seems as far off -as ever. Mean- 
 while, England is actually at work on a road to 
 run through her own grounds, and she has the 
 money. 
 
 When a nati«n of the old world gets up some great 
 work which requires an immense outlay, oceans of 
 talent, powerful and steady patronage, and an old 
 aristocracy, and royal countenance, America thinks 
 that she can gel up as great a work without all these 
 pre-rcquisitcs. In this way she erected that unfortu- 
 nate Crystal Palace, which was burned to the ground 
 
 the other day. Was it not odd to sec her almost wild 
 with joy because the cable was laid, when the stock 
 was chiefly owned in England, and both ends secured 
 to shares of which Enj^land claims the sovereignity, 
 and when the cable turned out to be a failure, after 
 all. 
 
 The two or there wrinkles do not tkt prove that 
 America is old. She knows it well enough, but, 
 when she is reminded of it she crows angry, and 
 answers— 'Well, what then 1 I am old enough |and 
 strong enough to whip you and the ' rest of mankind' 
 any day I' 
 
 We will pursue this theme, as applicable to the 
 really old nations in our next number. 
 
 MAILS FOR IRELAND. 
 
 We are happy in being able to announce that all 
 letters left at the office of Messrs. Nazro Brothers 
 & Sweeney, .5 Chatham Row, Boston, or at the 
 office of the American Express Company, 61 Hud- 
 son street, New Y'ork, will be promptly forwarded 
 by the Galway steamers. Letters by this route are 
 charged in Ireland sixpence sterling postage, two- 
 pence of which is paid to the steamship company ; 
 the balance, fourpence, the British government 
 charge for their services. As this is only half the 
 regular postage, the people would do well to avail 
 themselves of the sailing of the Galway steamers to 
 forward their letters to Ireland. No postage can be 
 prepaid on this side; but persons in the country 
 should enclose their letters, addressing them to 
 either the Boston oi New Y'ork agency, paying the 
 United States postage, which is only three cents, on 
 letters weighing under a half ounce, who will take 
 great pleasure in forwarding them by the first 
 steamer sailing after the receipt. A mail bag will 
 be kept open at the Boston agency, until four 
 o'cli5ck on the day preceding the sailing of the 
 steamer from New York, and at the N. York agency, 
 until a few hours before the sailing of the steamer. 
 The next steamer will be the Pacific, Captain 
 Thompson, sailing on Monday, the 8th instant. 
 The mail will be closed at the Boston agency Sat- 
 urday the Cih iust. 
 
 LETTER FROM THE POSTMASTER-GENERAL. 
 
 We lay before our readers the following letter 
 from Postmaster-General Black, in answer to a let- 
 ter concerning the transportation of the mails for 
 Great Britain via the Galway line : — 
 
 I'OST Ol-FICE DePAKTMEKT, 1 
 
 Wasliiiigtoii, Uolober2(J, 1858. ) 
 Sir — The Postmaster-General lias received your letter of 
 the 21st iust., lelutive to the establishment of a direct mail 
 communicaliou between this country and Ireland, by 
 means of a new line of steamships, to run to and from Gal- 
 way, and directs me to inlorni you, in answer, that the re- 
 gular mails cannot be transported, under our postal ar- 
 rangement with the United Kingdom, by aucb line to Gal- 
 way, without the previous consent of the British rostOifice, 
 and the constitution of Galway as an exchan^^e otlice for 
 British mails. Moreover, under the recent act of 14th June, 
 1858, which restricts the compensation to be allowed to 
 foreign vessels for the transportation of the mailH to the 
 ocean pobtages only, the preference is to be given to an 
 American over a foreign steamship, when departing (rom 
 the same port for the same destination, within three days of 
 each other. I am, very respectfully your obedient servant, 
 UOKATlUlilNG. 
 Thomas O'Neill, Esq., Boston Mass. 
 
 We return our sincere thanks to our brethren of 
 both the American and Irish presses, for the kindly wel- 
 come which they extended to os on our advent into 
 newspaper life. The Boston Pilot and the Irish. 
 American have kindly used our name, and we trust to 
 sail kindly along with our Irish cotetnporaries in 
 catering for the Irish people, and in seeking to place 
 them in their true position in society. 
 
 Mr. Lever predicts that a steamer will leave 
 Galway morning and evening for the United 
 States before many years, and that the money paid 
 for carrying the mail would support it without pas- 
 sengers or freight. 
 
202 
 
 IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 Enleml nceordini; to Act of Congntr, lu the yi-»r lSi8, by 
 Tlioinio O'Nriri, lu the l>l-irlcl Court urMowaoliUMills. 
 
 KliMIXlSCliNCES IX THK 
 
 LIFE iF A 
 
 EXGLISU AND AMERICAN SERVICES. 
 
 IIY THOMAS O'NEILL. 
 
 DEDICATED TO CE N6RA L JAMES SHIELDS. 
 
 L O V K on U O M A N C K . 
 
 Uiie of llic must eom|.lcte soMUms in our reKimcni 
 wiis Ku'liiiiil l.un);3iuii. To him tlic worl.i scvmod all 
 Bunshine iind huppiness j no lUiuii ilamptil him; no or- 
 clirs cauit! wrong; ever ready for duty, the march, or 
 frolic. The mi-rry whisllo or the light lau'jh was ever 
 oa his lip. If any of his UlliWd cumplained within hii 
 hearing, or said ' hard is the soldier's lot," Dick would 
 (ximfurt him with the happy assuiance that it ivas ' only 
 for life.' Then would he »hi^lle or sing again, until 
 the most downcast and melancholy would cheer up, 
 and laugh wiih glee. He was a clean, smart, and 
 handsome soldier, with a face indicative of the happi- 
 ness he re->lly felt; conslanilr humming the 'Bold 
 Dragoon ' or ' GalUut Hussar,' 'lUl his comrades be- 
 came satisfied and cheerful, with liiile to fret them, 
 and little to care for, so bright and radiant an influence 
 did the buoyant .•<pirii.s of the j yous Langston exert 
 upon his comrades. But a cloud came o'er the spirit 
 of his dream, and a complete change was wrought in 
 his careless and gay habits by a chance arrow shot 
 from the bow of the blind Cupid. 
 
 On the march througli Ireland, we arrived at the 
 town of Carlow one morning in May, ere the people of 
 that beautiful town were stirring. The distance for 
 that day was shor; ; but iho surpassing beauty of the 
 eleven or twelve miles of country which separate Ajlhy 
 from Carlow will never be forgotten by me. 
 
 We had started at the grey dawn of day, and as the 
 glorious orb rose m <jestically in the heavens, his rays 
 lighting on the lately fallen dew drops, caused them to 
 glitter and spirkic like gold upon ihe beautiful and 
 verdant green. The hawthorn trees were white with 
 blossoms, the fragrance of which tilled the air, and the 
 birds were pouring forth their sweetest melody. 
 
 The stranger — if any such ihcre be — to the wrongs 
 and misery of Ireland, might well exclaim, in contem- 
 plating such a scene, ' here, at lea.st, is a paradise on 
 earth.' But he who, on witnessing it, first learned her 
 story, might wall add, 'aye, and here is a country 
 worth fighting, worth dying for." Yes, oh stranger ! 
 while everything outward is beautiful, while the very 
 elements have combined to make all nature glad, and 
 the Almighty, with a bountiful hand, has showered his 
 blessings around, and the earth has responded in the 
 abundance of her fruits and foliage, the heart of the 
 old land is bowed down in sorrow, and oppressed bv 
 tyranny and wrong. The blessings so pientcouslv 
 bestowed upon the people are wresud from their hands 
 by armed tyranny, urmed not alone with the weapons 
 of law, but with the still more destructive power of the 
 foreign law— law which made it legitimate to rob the 
 faiherli'ss, and plunder and oppress the widow ; and 
 this is done in the name of justice and the religion of 
 Christ. Blasphemy most foul ! That government 
 which takes the bread from the sower, and iliat church 
 which deprives the poor of the I ist blanket, to sustain 
 its ministers in idle luxury, cannot he ordained of 
 Heaven; and to resist ihem to their overthrow, is to 
 do a work pleasing in the sight of Gud. Truly has it 
 been written, that 'it is man's inhainaniiy to man 
 tnakes countless thousands mourn.' 
 
 But to return to my story. On arriving in Carlow, 
 as before stated, ere the people were asiir, we were 
 'told off' to quarters. We found great difficulty in 
 procuring stabling. The 1st Royals occupied the bar- 
 rack, and, unless in private houses, it was not easy to 
 get proper accommodation. I happened to be one ol 
 four who were in the rear guard, and by the time the 
 rest were served, our prospects were rather blank in- 
 deed. While standing in front of the Colonel's hotel. 
 
 awaiting some arrangemcnta rcspcciiiig this dilliculiy, 
 a gentleman riding by, on hearing our dili'inma, volun- 
 teered to accommodate us, if wo were entrusted to 
 him. 
 
 Our capinin expressed his acknowledgments, they 
 exchanged names, and away wo rode with our new 
 friend. He resided near the town, and, on alighting , The men staiioned In the place appoint the house, and 
 
 the exception of Dick, Marled that afirrnoon for 'head 
 tiuaritrs,' the meaning of whirh phrase, in this in- 
 siance, is that whin a cavalry regiment is marching 
 through a city or town in which anoihir is i|uartcred, 
 the men oUMuiy bi-longing to both regiments meet at 
 some public house or holel, and i-xcliange greetings. 
 
 at his house, we found him amply proviiled to 
 module a troop. There was a 8;)leuilid out house and 
 8tal>lii]g, with a granary and hay loft, and everything 
 that a dragoon conlJ i-equire in abundance. Our horses 
 attended to, our host led us in'o the hou'.e, when he 
 soon informed us that he was warmly attached to the 
 army; his father had held a commission in a regiment 
 of cavalry. Excusing himself for half an hour, by 
 which time he informed us that breakfast would be 
 
 a free and easy j jlliticatlon is the natural, and if not 
 natural, iiieviiabe conclusion of snch arrangements. 
 
 The next day, our kind entertainers were up and 
 srtrring bright and early to see us off. We parted, but 
 not without gladly giving the promise which they ex- 
 acted, that we should never, whether as srddiers or 
 civilians, pass through Carlow again without paying 
 ■ hem a visit. 
 
 From that day Dick f.angston was an altered man j 
 
 ready, he retired. He had but just left the room when j he loved books more and soldiering less. The bcau- 
 a tall and very elegant lady, accompanied by a ser- ties and pleasures of the service were now to him a 
 vant. entered, and commenced to remove some books I departed dream. In place of the ' Gallant Hussar,' we 
 
 which were upon the table. Our friend Dick ofl'ered 
 some joking objections, asking her if she feared for 
 them, and adding thai without their books Hussars 
 would be but dull fellows. The lady, who, by the way, 
 was very liandM>me, replied that she merely wished to 
 remove them out of the way ; but if we desired to read 
 books, she would show us into the library. Dick, 
 with his best smile, thanked her, with an assurance 
 that we would esteem it a great favor to enjoy the 
 privilege. Just as Dick was beginning to show his 
 gallantry, he was interrupted by a visit from our host, 
 who came to announce breakl'ast. Having introduced 
 the lady to us as his sister, he added that he was afraid 
 she might fall in love, as he knew the awful malady — 
 love of soldiering — ran through his family like wooden 
 legs. At breakfast we made the acquaintance of 
 the rest of the family. Our host was a young man, 
 but recently married. He possessed a large estate, and 
 was reputed in wealthy circumstances. He was of that 
 class who, as he said himself, could never be moved 
 from their love of farming and the sports of the field 
 He had cxpeiienctd enough of city life, while at col- 
 lege, to give him a distaste forever after of city smoke 
 and bustle. He had two maiden sisters, who some- 
 times resided with him, and at other times with an 
 aunt in Dublin. 
 
 Breakfast over, our friendly interchange of senti- 
 ment progressed lo the most familiar intercourse. Ttie 
 urbane and friendly attentions cf our host broke down 
 all the conventual strangeness incident to our ]>osition, 
 and we felt and made ourselves perfectly at home. 
 This seemed to afford him the greatest jjleasure. I 
 have ever found the greatest ease, confidence, and affa- 
 bility of manner, to characterise the elite of society in 
 Ireland beyond that of the same class in any other 
 country. More particularly is such the case with the 
 educated Irish lady ; there is none of that awkward 
 bashfulncss or delicate cojness which generally charac- 
 terises the females of other countries, but an open 
 frankness or trustfulness of manner. Once introduced 
 to them as a friend, they treat you with the most win- 
 ning courteousncss, blended with familiar frankness. 
 Thus a stranger is at once at ease in their company, 
 and feels himself much sooner 'quite at home,' as the 
 
 were more often treated to a i|uotation from Gold- 
 smith's ' Deserted Village.' The bustle of a soldier's 
 life, the clank of arms, and the strains of the martial 
 bugle, had lost all iheir wonted charm. Robinson 
 Crusoe or Alexander Selkirk on a lonely island were 
 in a state of blissful happiness compared to him in a 
 barrack room. 
 
 Dick, however, though greatly altered, was Dick 
 Langsion still, for li>ye hud not the power to slop his 
 tongue ; if it changed his desire, he would still re- 
 cite — 
 
 ' I am monarch of all I purvey. 
 
 My right tl'Cie is none to dispute; 
 From the centre all round to tire sea, 
 I'm lord of ttie fowl and the brute.' 
 At least, he would add by way of commentary, ' I can 
 scarcely fall out with myself for my own noise.' 
 'Never hear the sweet mu.'^ic of speech, 
 I start ut the sour d of my own.' 
 ' You 're a changed man, Langiton, since yon saw 
 the lassie at Carlow. What would you think of her, 
 and a good farm, to soldier ? ' some would ask. He 
 would start from his reverie, and laughingly reply, 
 ' Nothing better ' ; then go on — 
 
 'Happy the man whose constant care 
 
 A lew paternal acres bound; 
 Content lo breallie his native air 
 On his own ;^round.' 
 
 Things continued thus about a year, when Dick left 
 on furlough. On his return, he appeared to be still 
 more out of conceit with soldiering', and, afier a very 
 short time, made application for discharge by pur- 
 chase. 
 
 An order ' on the route ' brought the regiment hack 
 to Dublin once more, to brigade for some new field 
 drills. Upon arriving at the capital, Dick obtained 
 leave for some days, and shortly after he received his 
 discharge. 
 
 The day after, a carriage drove into the yard of 
 Portobello Barracks, in ^vhich, on approaching our 
 rooms, we recognized sick Langston. He came to 
 say fa^e^yell, and after shaking iiis troopmatcs 
 warmly by the hand, he again entered the carriage, 
 in which, with other occupants, we beheld the lady 
 who invited us ijito the library at Carlow, now 
 
 saying is, than he can possibly in the same space of -''^''"- Iiangoton 
 
 time with the ladies of other countries. In truth, it 
 has been well said of them ' that their hearts are as 
 open as their houses,' and all admit that their hospi- 
 tality is proverbial. 
 
 But to tome back to my story. Early in the fore- 
 noon the troop Sergeant Major arrived to furnish us 
 with forage, our pay and orders. Duang his stay at 
 the house, the young lady before mentioned invited us 
 to accompany her to the library to select books for 
 ourselves, an invitation which we promptly accepted. 
 Having each selected a volume, we retired from the 
 library, leaving Dick in earnest conversation with the 
 lady upon ihe subject of their favorite authors. Their 
 tastes proving congenial upon this point, their friendly 
 intercourse progressed amazingly. 
 
 We were to march the next day for Kilkenny, con- 
 sequenily our time for .fitcrary indulgence was very 
 limited, and more particularly so as our parly, with 
 
 I need hardly add that wc received a cordial in- 
 vitation from the happy bridegroom to visit him. 
 He was the son of a wealthy merchant, who resided 
 at Belfast. lie was of an odventurous disposition, 
 and having early imbibed a love for soldiering, he 
 enlisted; but now, having sown the .last of his wild 
 oats, and taken unto himself a wife, he was warmly 
 welcomed to the paternal house, and was comforta- 
 bly settled by his father. 
 
 The old Dublin lady— aunt of the bride, men- 
 tioned before — was pleased with the romance of the 
 affair, and settled a handsome dowry upon her 
 niece, &s a mark of her approvid of the match. 
 Dick entered into the linen trade in conjunction 
 with his father,aiid took up his residence near Cole- 
 raine, and whenever any of his old comrades visit 
 him, they are sure of a right hearty reception and a 
 glorious jollitication. 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 203 
 
 [Written lor the Misccllnny.] < 
 
 THE EVICTED TENANT. 
 From lov'd lionie evicted, dejected iind lonely, 
 
 A bruve I^i^ll peasant sailed (ar o'er the nniin ; 
 One brigljt liope unstained liim — one wish— and one only — 
 Tbnt he might revisit green Erin again. 
 
 Away o'er the foamy Atlantic lie pa#:-c6i j 
 
 The track of St. Brendan* he hastens nldng, 1 
 
 Unto Unit fur Vinlandt wlioje beauty surpiistes » 
 All poets liave told of Hjbrassilt in song. 
 
 One fond look he take." iit the moimtaine of Beam, 
 
 The Fastnet and Clare have receded from view, 
 And as to the exile, begiiKs a new era. 
 
 With *slaii leat go bragh,' to his land bids adieu. 
 He sighs for Ids liome far in Cluin's green valley. 
 
 Where Colnian the saint, erst did pray uuto God — 
 "Where after the Geraldine clansiueii did rally—; 
 
 Where Kaleigll the gallant, in panoply trod. 
 
 Tliat home— his no more— to the earth liad descended ; 
 
 It fell 'neatli the stroke of the ' crowbar brigade ' — 
 Ko arm in that hour of distress to defend it, 
 
 Or smite the foul crew in the ruin they made. 
 
 The foam-wreathed billows around him now gather. 
 Wave presses on wave, so impetuous they throng. 
 
 To hail him, than wliom 'neath the sun is none sadder. 
 The victim ot Ijindlord, oppression and wrong. 
 
 The wave and the billow roll wildly, unheeded, 
 The spray of the ocean falls cold on his cheek, 
 
 A pi a} er for a fond, aged mother is breathed. 
 Unmanned with emotion, he scarcely can speak. 
 
 But woe to the tyrants when war-flags are tlyiug. 
 When Erin's 'gal tromba '§ will call to her aid. 
 
 Her brave sons, Jike him, who in exile are sighing 
 To send to her rescue an Irish brigade. T. F. W. 
 
 ♦According to the Irish, Danish, and Ecclesiastical chron- 
 icler, St. Brendan, Abbot of Ardfert, sailed on a voyage of 
 discovery to this continent about the } ear 545.— LColgan's 
 Acta Sanctorum. 
 
 ■fVinland, the name given to the presentNew England by 
 the Irish and Danish voyagers of that age, long before the 
 discovery of Columbus.— (Humboldt's Cosmos. 
 
 JHybrassil, the elysium of the Pagan Irish. 
 
 § * Cal trumba,' an ancient Irish instrument cf music. 
 
 [Written for the Miscellany ] 
 C AT OC T I N . 
 
 BY ' R A N M E, E ,' 
 
 Part Fifi;h. — The Iron Works. — The Journey's End. 
 The regions of Vulcan. Oh, Telemachus, what 
 adventures were thine in search of "Ulysses! Tar- 
 tarean darkness! Step carefully — a long step down. 
 Gather your dress closely abeut you; the vitriol 
 throwers are not njore destructive of fine clothing 
 than would be the slightest contact with the iron 
 that environs j'ou on all sides. Would you experi- 
 ence Bruin's delight in his first dancing lesson, take 
 a few steps yonder on his ball-room floor — those long 
 blue widths of innocent seeming sheet-iron, spread 
 there to cool. My word for it, you will find it 
 piping hot, and pronounce him a lad of mettle. 
 
 Smoky, sooty, demoniac-looking figures come into 
 relief against the light of the furnaces, which are- 
 roaring tlieir prelude to the clamor,-ius chorus to 
 follow, and, to your relief, are again engulfed in 
 the darkness. A ferruginous taste and odor is in 
 the atmosphere, which is healthy, mingled with car- 
 bonic acid gas, from burning charcoal, which is 
 deadly. 
 
 'How stifling!' 
 
 'Go on.* 
 
 Yonder breaks in the light of day, through a wide 
 doorway; let us emerge for a mouthful of fresh air, 
 more desirable than a chest full of gold and jewels. 
 
 'Ha! You have set your tiny gaiter, madam, on 
 a spot where it needs no monument to commemo- 
 rate the landing! 'Victoria's first foot-print at 
 Cherbourg is not half so apparent — no, nor so 
 dainty!' 
 
 'How provoking! Half the sole of ray shoe has 
 peeled oif, and stuck to the iron like a cake in an 
 over hot oven.' 
 
 'Ha! ha! ha! Be more cautiou";; 'tis well it was 
 only the shoe. Take hold of my hand; there's no 
 danger; the bridge is strong.' 
 
 'Yes — but the water rushes and surges so, and 
 the dashing of the wheel alarms me,' 
 'We are over; come in here.' 
 
 Here they nmkc the lathe iinils. In the place we 
 have left, the iron is melted, poured out, cooled, 
 and pressed through rollers into sheets. Swarthy 
 imps and demons, seated in a row, each feed an 
 insatiate dragon with strips of sheet-iron, the size 
 of cup-paper. JIark how the imp takes up one of 
 the pieces at his side with his pitchfork (pincers), 
 and thrusts it into the steel jaws of the dragon. Its 
 gleaming teeth snap resistlessly together, and the 
 imp torments it by withdrawing the morsel sudden- 
 ly and repeatedly from its jaws, and turning it over 
 from left to right, and right to left, each time per- 
 mitting it a mincing bite. How it hisses and ro.irs 
 its rage, and spitefully snaps off bit after bit, and 
 scornfully spits them forth again, uatil barrel after 
 barrel, at its feet, overflows with the shining frag- 
 ments, which men call nails. 
 
 Oh, Soloman! could all your wisdom have con- 
 trived so ingenious a torment for your shackled 
 monsters, how would your riches, vast as they were, 
 have then augmented? Poor Tantalus! Your de- 
 nial of food was profitless cruelty; you also bit ofi' 
 your nails, doubtless — but thej' were of no market 
 value. 
 
 How rapidly the machinery moves — with a clat- 
 ter and an activity equal to an asseinblage of aH the 
 anc&tors and all theposterit.y of vthe barber of the 
 Arabian Nights, sir-named 'The Silent,' and his 
 garrulous brother in the bargain, all of them at the 
 some time engaged in stropping their razors and 
 telling their stories. 
 
 And next we visit the grand arena, where 
 the dragons — fed by adult demons only — seem 
 weary, bite -slower, and are indulged with larger 
 mouthfuls, but reject them, as though faint with 
 long fasting. And, huddled all around, like 'wall- 
 flowers' at a ball, or sheep by the roadside, are 
 barrels full of what men designate fourpennies, 
 si.xes, eights, tens, twelves, twenties and forties, 
 and wrought-iron spikes. 
 
 Here the demons themselves seem tortured, for 
 the at'mosphere is suifoeating, and the furnaces 
 roast the face, and the glare blinds the eyes. They 
 must be glad to escape at six o'clock (as we do 
 now, an hour or two earlier,) and catch the cool 
 breeze of the sweet Patapsco, and bathe their brows 
 in the refreshing tide. 
 
 Then, I am told, these imps and demons are con- 
 verted into not unhandsome men and boys, fathers 
 and sons, and assemble around cosy supper-tables 
 in this little valley, and laugh and talk with 
 'mother and the children,' and read the Bible and 
 sing and pray, and, purified from earthly stains — 
 'Lie down to pleasant dreams,' 
 
 And so may we all at life's .sunset. 
 
 'Amen,' says the Reverend Doctor Whitehead. 
 
 We returned to the Delay House as the gong 
 sounded, and we had a dinner that we luciously re- 
 member yet ; one that Doctor Whitehead was 'full 
 of for the rest of the day — that almost decided him 
 to rest there in preference to Gatoctin. As for the 
 rest of us, 'there is no rest for the wicked,' we must 
 go on. 
 
 Time after dinner is unconsciously consumed 
 with the cigar and the newspaper, while the ladies 
 take a siesta. But the whistle of the locomotive, 
 like the phibroch of the highlands, .soon brings 
 about a gathering of the clans, and 'all the blue' 
 (white and green) 'bonnets are over the border' of 
 the river, in the rustle of a ribbon, and on the wind- 
 ing way to — Ilchester. 
 
 Soon reached, soon passed, but a long time ere 
 the remembrance of its beautiful scenery passes 
 from the mind. Then Ellicott's Mills, with its well 
 known accessories, and Marriottsvillc, where an 
 incident has occurred that I may yet relate. And 
 Hood's Mill, with its huge teams and jingling bells, 
 
 and oherrupy black drivers, whistling musically, or 
 breaking out into song, or calling by name to their 
 well liroken-in "nurses. 
 
 And all along this road what a delightful diversi- 
 ty of hill and vale, and crystal waters, rushing in 
 torrents, flowing in rivers, widening into lakes, 
 narrowing into brooklets, eddying out into shal- 
 lows, gurgling among mossy rocks and forest waifs, 
 and winnowing in amid old fantastic tree roots and 
 hanging vines in shady places, keeping as silent and 
 as happy as lovers, and a vast deaicooler. 
 
 Such foliage! Giles, the ploughboy, could tell 
 you where. This is hickory, and that is maple, and 
 yon is sycamore, and here is poplar, and there are 
 oasket willows, weeping willows, larch, oak, beech, 
 fir, cedar and pines. But what care we, free lovers 
 of universal nature, for that, as we confess with 
 rapture that fairer scenes cannot, do not e.Nist. It 
 is even worth the penalty of an hour's stay in fos- 
 siliferous old Frederick City, where we arrive about 
 night, and take a supper, paying handsomely for it, 
 and a stroll up a rugged pavement, dark and dirty, 
 \j'ith an Indian ink view of nothing in particular. 
 But wherever lights are shinii.g, there we see con- 
 gregated the occupants of the adjoining houses, 
 gathered about- the door-steps, socially comming- 
 ling. 
 
 We lose a trunk here, which we afterwards re- 
 cover, and charter an omnibus, and the children go 
 to sleep in it right off, and very leisurely catch a 
 very bad cold apiece. 
 
 We take the road, Doctor Whitehead, Savage, 
 Vernon, and Oranmore, each his head thrust out 
 of a different window, puffing away at one of Ruth- 
 mann's prime cigars. Every now and then a cigar 
 and a head is withdrawn, and a remark or a reply 
 follows, for the gentlemen are conversing, as they 
 have been all day, changing from grave to gay, from 
 lively to severe, according to the 'strange and way- 
 ward course of thought.' 
 
 The ladies become unfemininely taciturn, and we 
 perceive by the 'lantern dimly burning,' that^ 
 
 'Nay, turn not away that sweet head,' 
 that — they are most unromantically nodding. And 
 the last cigar is out; the last ashes mingling with 
 the invisible dust of the road, and the latest som- 
 nolent recollections of one of the company, who 
 claimed to be wide awake when (as he profanely 
 asserts — who will believe it?) every body else was 
 — snoring. 
 
 The omnibus ran over a dissolute, desolate, va- 
 grant Tom-cat, whose melancholy caterwauling 
 awoke the echoes, the ladies, and their sympathies. 
 The prolongation of the sounds attested the contin- 
 uance of Tom's^ valuable existence, and the ladies' 
 goodness of heart — that Tom was more frightened 
 than hurt, and the ladies more hurt than frightened. 
 • (The narrator says that ever since '18 in Ireland, 
 he has had sympathy fur the feline.) 
 
 That there was an occasional — that is to say, 
 every minute — stopping at toll gates, and such a 
 shouting to get somebody up, and such a shouting 
 when they were up, to make them hear, for they 
 seemed deaf, and a repetition of the shouting to 
 make them comprehend, for they were also 'daft.' 
 
 (This portion of the relation is well attested — the 
 noise eff'cctually awakening every living thing within 
 a quarter of a mile.) 
 
 And then there was a very soporific recollection 
 of a very rough bit of travelling. Toiling up an 
 ascent that seemed perpendicular, and jolting, dash- 
 ing, flying down a precipice, despite the heavy drag 
 attached, that conveyed the sensation, and sug- 
 gested an agreeable dream of a surgeon sawing your 
 bones. 
 
 (An ancpsthetic agent employed in the rest of our 
 cases.) 
 
 And next a brilliant light was seen, far down in 
 the valley — dark as that of the shadow of death — 
 which, when nearest approached, proved to be a 
 
204 
 
 IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 fire, lit as a 'fish decoy,' and now glowed high | will puss ihrouKli Giilwiiv. Groat, 
 
 liowevijr. as iho | on all hands admiiicd, however, ilmt the harbor, 
 
 ncer- 
 
 above you. And dtrper, deeper did we delve, and immediaw or proximH.e adv«ntaRe|. derivable fr,.fn ' roadstead and hny arc capable under proner engine 
 higher, higher did we elimb. until another light , "''» ''""""'y >'^ "'« f""'"-"'" ""f"!'! oti.cs n.tio.-ely l ;„„ ,„„„„,,,,,-,„/„, ,,,:' ' ' ? " . 7 „ . 
 
 ... ... ,. ° more imuonant. IVrhupi llie pnwcnt irencraiion will I " monu),'tinent. ol beiii({ rendered niifer and mc 
 
 came mto view. And it went out of view, and , live to -le >l.e pr»j...led r,.ilvvay whi.h i.s to unite the "Ix^ltered. and already are maritime survevon. a 
 eame into view, like a fen light, and the weary Atlantic and Ta-iHo coasts brought to completion— ' en^in.ers reporting on a subject not merely of Kngli 
 hor.seswere at length drawn up, punting, in the "'''^d 'he enormous eommert-ial interest, involved in „,,j [.j,, but of European and tran»-Atlaniio i 
 hlni'knn.a <.f . »i,;,.i, ....,^,1 ... 1 .K .■ I ^'"'* obtiiinuig tho shortest route to C i na und Ind a . , . ' /luuin." 
 
 blackness of a thuk «ood, and the cessation of „i|, ,,„„^.„ 1^,,„ ^^^-^^ ^,,,i, ^„^^ ,_.^^,^,_^.^, ^,, I importance. It is row palpable .bat the pa,sa 
 
 motion aroused us all, and the driver announced— course of European commerce will take a new direc- 1 f"""'" tijilniiy to Halifax may be made in from live 
 
 and Dr. Whitehead in.stantly confirmed him — that 
 we had at last ar^vcd at Catociin. 
 
 FOREIGN INTELLIGENCE. 
 
 I UK L.^ Nil. 
 
 The news from our old and truly loved father- 
 land is auch as should cheer all her sons, and rein- 
 vigorate them to new elforts in her behalf. One 
 united shoulder, and she is fairly launched into new 
 life.and we will be proud to know she can then take 
 cure of herself. The facts before the world in rela- 
 tion to her position, and the events connected with 
 the Lever and Father Daly undertaking, ha\e lifted 
 her into an importance little dreamed of. The 
 liritish government, .seeing the problem solved "be- 
 yond a doubt, will not only lend Ireland money, 
 but will actually give it without expecting a return. 
 
 The people of Ualwuy are praised by Kngland for energy, industy and 
 aiding themselves, and Limerick bestirs her.sclf, and tbeniselves, the enti 
 loolts around— Limerick of the Shannon, with a 
 history full of- interest, resources and wealth un- 
 surpassed, and a spiri:, if aroused, capable of any 
 undertaking. To our friend-s in that noble city, we 
 would say the day is not far distant when through 
 Ireland almost every passenger and every pound of 
 freight will pass for Europe. This, indeed, por- 
 tends to be the great and bloodless revolution. 
 Head the following, from the Dublin Nation, and 
 see whether we of the Miscellany have been wild 
 in our theories respecting this matter, or whether 
 our early and wildest fancies are not likely to be 
 realised. 
 
 Galwat Packist Station.— After a trial of two 
 months tlie G.d.vay Trans-allaniic Packet Station 
 may now be considered as a decided success ; its 
 iiumenst local advantages have triumphed over the 
 jealous oppKsiiiiin of Liverpool ; and. 
 
 tion— the Mediterranean und Capo routes will bo ' live and a-lialf or six days ; the jnuriiev from llulifi 
 
 abandoned, and Iielainl, as the neccssarv area through ' 
 
 which the transit trade of the East and West would pass, 
 
 may, throagh this means, attain a degree of opulence 
 
 beyond the reach of present cnlcuhuion, as well as by 
 
 developing her resources and creating a native com- 
 
 merce, lor which her capacities are undisputed. 
 
 We take the following statement from the Limerick 
 
 to Boston, United States, being accomplished in from 
 twenty to twenty-four hours. Thus, in from six and 
 a half to seven days we may at present, by this rouie, 
 bo put in possession of American news, and inter- 
 change not merely tho products of thought but those 
 more material products which supply the manufactur- 
 
 Chronicle. Tho Soutbeiiis, it would seem, have ing industry and create the wealth of nations. II such 
 
 n, Ireland will henceforth become the chief area 
 of transit for the truns-Ailantic commerce of England, 
 as well as that of the north.«ast of Europe. Short us 
 the period ha.s been rincc the station was established, 
 and while the expennient was as yet in its tentative 
 stage, U|>tKar<ls of three thousand passengers have 
 crossed the Atlantic from both ^idcs in (he Lever line 
 af steiUDcrs; and when tho Pacific last started, up- 
 wards of a. hundrid persons were unable to obtain 
 berths in the vessel. The amount ol Ireight also 
 :-arried by the packets has been large beyond anticipa- 
 tion, so that the company are abont to increase tho 
 number o<" steamers to liieet the auj^niented demands 
 of commerce. Thus we see geography has achieved a 
 victory over local interests and national prejudice, and 
 
 abandoned all idea of the establishment of ilio tran 
 Atlantic packet station at their side of the kingdom : — 
 ' We have been inlornied by a very reliable authority 
 that at the assembling of Parliament government will 
 recommend giving 1 1 Galway a grant of X5U,i)00, as 
 tho lirst instalment of the sum needed to construct the 
 breakwater, if tho commissioners now inspecting Gal- 
 tn'ay should report favorably of it as a harbor of nfuge. 
 The total rciiuired fur the purpose will be X15O,OU0, 
 and, owning to the influence of the Lord Lieutenant 
 and Irish Atturncy General with the present Cabinet, 
 both exerted for Galway, but most of all owing to the 
 ntcrprise of tho Galwegiaiis 
 iniount will be advanced out 
 of the Imperial exoheiiuer, and that, too, not as a loan, 
 hut as a grant, free and forever. Lord Derby is deter- 
 mined on helping those who seem disposed to help 
 iheinselves. The people of Limerick deserved no help 
 from any one, because there was no disposition on 
 their pan to aid themselves, and, with all the advan- 
 tages of their superior position, their apathy leaves 
 them in the background, while Galway is fast going 
 ahead. That the packets from Galway will prove a 
 paying speculation, the following facts are good omens: 
 The amount of passage money paid in the last steamer, 
 the Pacific, was over £.3,01)0, and in one of the second- 
 class packets, which arrivid at Galway a short time 
 ago, nearly £2,000, was produced by the passenger 
 tralhe alone, being, as in the other case, exclusive of 
 the freights for conveyance of merchandise. The 
 receipts of the Midl.md Kailway have been vastlv 
 increased by the arrival and dejiarture of American 
 packets at Galway. The company is in a most 
 flourishing condition, aud they propose to continue 
 their line of railway down to the dock. In order to 
 far as ciin'be i '"'^"'''^ " character for punctuality, the steamers start 
 
 victo^ over local interests and national prejudice, and I train today. At 10 o'clock this 
 jvcr the disinclination which is ever found to oppose I Washingtou was called on by M 
 the adoption of a new channel of commerce, or any; Chairman of tho Haibor Cominis 
 
 other new improvement until experience has rendered 
 the advantages derived from it patent and unques- 
 lioneil. 
 
 precisely at the aiipointed hour ; and the other day the 
 packet was several miles at sea before the Custom- 
 House officer had her papers cleared out, and was 
 oblig. d to return in a small boat.' 
 
 Apropos of this subject, the Gahvay Vindicator, 
 just come to hand, announces the arrival there of 
 Capuiin Washington, R. N., one of the Commissioners 
 appointed by government to inquire into the subject 
 of harbors of refuge : — 
 
 ' Last night, by the mail train at 10.12 P. M., Cap- 
 tain Washington, K N., Chairman of the Commission 
 to inquire into the subject of harbors of rel'uKe, arrived 
 in Galway. The other commissioners are expected by 
 morniu-; Captain 
 r. P. M. Lynch, 
 ioners, who was 
 
 At the same time, too much praise cannot be award- 
 I!d the leaders ol the Galwny Packet Company for tho 
 jnergy and resources which they have displayed in 
 rendering their project successful. Although the ] and take soundings in tliebayl and test the correctness 
 
 a celerity be attained with the lirst three or four 
 months of a novel, and in some sort hazardous under- 
 taking, to what Improvements may we not bo justified 
 in looking in the course of 1859 t Probably before 
 this time next year the distance between London and 
 New York may be reduced to an affair of seven or 
 even of six days. In passenger traffic, the advantage 
 of this increased celerity of communication is inestima- 
 ble, nor in mercantile and political correspondence is 
 it less appreciable. There is an iinmenso corres- 
 pondence between Liverpool, Manchester, Shctlield, 
 Biitningham, Bristol, 'Hull, Iliiddcr»licld, und New 
 York, and other towns and cities of the American 
 Union, and we shall not be surprised to find that a 
 dat is not distant when this correspondence and the 
 letters from Canada may be forwarded via Galway.' 
 
 At a meeting of the G alway Harbor Commission- 
 ers on Friday, the following communication from 
 the Viceregal Lodge wSs read by the chairman, the 
 ubiquitous Father Peter Daly : — 
 
 VicEiiEGAL Lodge, Sept. 30. 
 
 ' My dear Mr. Daly-r-I communicated the tele- 
 gram and your note to the Lord-Lieutenant, who 
 was much gratified by the successful voyage of the 
 last steamer from St. John's to (jalway, which, I 
 think, decides the advantages of the Irish passage 
 over that from Liverpool, so as to make it plain even ' 
 to English understandings. You will perceive by 
 the papers that Lord Eglinton has succeeded in 
 having the Commissioners sent to Galway, aud we 
 are all sanguine that their report will be favorable, 
 and we shall see the line of packets from thence 
 firmly established. 
 
 Believe me, yours very faithfully 
 
 Fii.iNCis Plu.nkett Dunxe. 
 
 The Rev. Peter Daly, Imperial Hotel. 
 
 P. S. His Excellency leaves for Ballinasloe, ar- 
 riving there the day after to-morrow.' 
 
 The letter was received with rapturous cheering. 
 When the enthusiasm had partly subsided, it was 
 rekindled by an unexpected ceremonial, improvised 
 by Captain Thatcher, ol the Propeller, recently ar- 
 rived from America, who had been deputed to 
 present Father Daly with an American hickory 
 stick, the gift of a trans-Atlantic admirer. After a 
 brief speech, the gallant seaman placed the stick in 
 the worthy father's hands, and the latter held it up 
 
 very kindly and cordially received by him. S. U 
 
 Roberts, Esq., county surveyor, was then introduced, 
 
 and Captain Washington expressed a wish that Mr. , 
 
 Roberts should afford'liiiu his assistance and inlbrma- \ on the table for a few minutes, amid (says the re- 
 
 tion duiing the day, and it was arranged that they i port) the enthusiastic cheering, not only of the 
 
 -hould go out in the Vesper at 2 o'clock, to examine j ,n^,roi,ers of the Board, but of all the officials and 
 
 mo that her manufdcturingand general trade interests ; connected with the Harbor Board who could givc mm 
 jro deeply mvolved in sustaining the enterprise they ; information on the subject of his inquiry at the Rad- 
 bave set on foot. It is also hoped that the govern- I way Hotel to-morrow. Tliere will be uo public court 
 
 ment will lend an aiding hand to this project. Thei 
 loties to the public demand that thiy should adopt ilie 
 ihortest route for the carriage of postal communication 
 jetweoD ihosc countries and America. '1 his service 
 now amounts to £800,000 per annum ; and by trans- 
 erring this subsidy to the Galway Company.ihe latter, 
 iccording to Mr. Lever, would tftus be enabled to run 
 I line of steamships twice a day from tho western port, 
 ?xcl ■ ■ ^ ' ... 
 
 I publii 
 of ini|uiry held, but we have reason* to believe that 
 Capt.iin Washington is disposed to enter on his inquiry 
 with a degree of earnestness which will leave noihing 
 undeveloped in relation to the natural resources and 
 immense capabilities of the harbor of Cilway.' 
 Thk Lever Line. — The Morning Post says : — 
 There appears neither money, enterprise, nor industry 
 
 e of any other purpose, and without refeiTince wanting on the part of Mr. Lever and his friends , 
 
 ind nHs.l'l,? r"'? 7"'.'''' '''"°'" '''r""?«' °".''e''' and if- in «<iJi''0° '<> these, there be cxhibted such 
 ina passengers. Indeed.sooner or later the opinion of ,. j , 
 
 America and England must decide this matter; and ' P"'"^""''"y *"<' perseverance as have hitherto appear- 
 here is every likelihood that at no distant day the I ^d, Galway may in time become — what that city was 
 ntire transAilautic postal communication of Europe ' some centuries ago— a really important seaport. It is 
 
 knots, polished out m relief. Near the handle was 
 inserted a .silver tablet, about four inches long by 
 two inches wide, on which the following inscription 
 was engraved : — 
 
 ' Presented by Thomas O'Neill, of Boston, U. S., 
 to Father Peter Daly, of Galway.' 
 
 Moscment to .the Late Edward Walsh. — A 
 pretty but simple and unpretending monument at 
 length marks tho spot where lies the mortal remains of 
 Edward Walsh, a gifted and patriotic Irishman, whose 
 whole life was a struggle with an adverse fortune, 
 though the productions of bis pen must give him a 
 high rank among our national poets. 
 
 Since the 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 205 
 
 period of his death, in 1C39, this humble grave in a 
 retired i\nd shndy spot of the Botnnie Gardens remain- 
 ed uniuarlced by either slab or monumental stone, 
 until some months ago, when one or two gentlemen of 
 this city, admirers of his genins and virtues, resolved 
 that some monument should be raised over his grave 
 to indicate to the stranger who it was that slept 
 beneath. A subscription was accordingly set on foot, 
 and very soon a sufficient sum was obtained to defray 
 the expense of snch a tribute as was contemplated. 
 The work was entrusted to Mr. Daly, of Cook street, 
 by whom it has been executed in a highl}' creditable 
 manner. There is nothing in the simple monument 
 caluciated to astonish or to attract particular attention ; 
 it is a neat, pretty, and well-fiuished piece of orna- 
 mental sculpture. Ic is a Celtic cross, about eif^ht feet 
 high, cut out of limestone, with some light and simple 
 carving on the front. A sprig of shamrock adorns 
 the extremity of each arm and also the summit. It 
 was erected on Friday week over the grave, where two 
 of Mr. Walsh's children are buried beside him. The 
 following inscription, in the Celtic language and 
 characters, with an English translation, will be engrav- 
 ed upon it: — 
 
 Edward Walsh, 
 
 The Poet and Trans' ator. 
 
 Died August, 1850 — Aged 45 years. 
 
 This Celtic Cross marks bis grave. 
 
 By its erection a few of his countrymen desire to 
 record their admiration of the Patriot and the Bard, 
 who loved Erin as a child loveth his mother, and 
 poured forth on her breast that knowledge of her 
 happy and sad memories, which he had fashioned into 
 beauty by the warmth of his love, and the magic of his 
 song. 
 
 His life was similar to that of many of the people of 
 this land ; an anxious struggle to procure food, and 
 the means of moral and intellectual refinement for his 
 children ; cheered by the love and sympathy of a 
 devoted wife, as well in the construction of his happy 
 free-will offerings for his country, as in the ill-requited 
 labors of his daily life. God rest his soul ! — [Cork 
 Examiner. 
 
 The Ballot. — The question of reform is now 
 before the country ; but we would remind the Irish 
 public that without the ballot, reform would prove a 
 curse rather than a blessing to this country. If the 
 ballot be a useful institution in any part of the world, 
 it would be doubly useful in Ireland. The English 
 Ballot Society are making strenuous effort to pro- 
 cure for this important measure a favorable considera- 
 tion from the parliament and the country ; and if Ire- 
 land be wise she will spare no effort to aid in the 
 success of the movement. Reform, as we have already 
 said, without the ballot, would be no boon whatever; 
 and for this simple reason, that it would only increase 
 instead of diminishing the power of the aristocracy. 
 Let us suppose an extension of the franchise to-mor- 
 row, what use is it if the landlojd can influence the 
 votes of the tenants, and make them act contrary to 
 their conscience 1 What would be the use even of 
 universal sulfrage, while the landlord and the em- 
 ployer have [the power of coercing the votes of their 
 dependents 1 It is the ballot that Ireland principally 
 wants, and we hope that the representatives and people 
 of this country will spare no effort to achieve a triumph 
 which is at the very foundation, not merely a Reform, 
 but of popular liberty.— [Kilkenny Journal. 
 
 Communication between Ireland and Ads- 
 TRALiA. — The Cork Reporter says : ' Upon Tuesday 
 the committee of merchants met at their room, 
 Commercial Buildings, to consider the project of a 
 line of steamships between London and Australia 
 via Panama, which would make (Jueenstown their 
 final port of departure. Messrs. Pagan and Bsamish 
 dwelt with much force upon the certain benefits 
 which the establishment of such a means of com- 
 munication would confer upon this locality. As 
 this was really a preliminary meeting, all that could 
 be done was to sign a memorial expressive of 
 the anxiety of the committee of merchants to for- 
 
 ward the line by every means in their power, and to 
 adopt a resolution requesting the mayor to convene 
 a general assemblage of the mercantile interest of 
 Cork to discuss and assist the scheme, should it be 
 found worthy of support. Ilis worship readily ac- 
 quiesced with the desire enunciated, and the general 
 meeting will be called on an early day next week. 
 What we have now to inquire is what kind of co- 
 operation is sought from our merchants, and what 
 liability are they required to assume. The com- 
 pany is limited ; the capital is fixed at £325,000, 
 composed of 65,000 share of £5 each. The docu- 
 ment to be subscribed is as follows ; — 
 
 Australian and Pacific Company (Limited). 
 Subject to my approval of the list of members 
 when complete, I hereby consent to act as a mem-- 
 ber of the provisional committee of the shareholders 
 of the proposed company above named, when the 
 same shali^be duly incor})orated pursuant to the 19tli 
 and 20th Victoria cap. 46, for the purposes stated 
 in the annexed ijrospectus, and to subscribe for one 
 share in the said company. 
 ' Dated this day of 1858. 
 
 Transatlantic Packet Station at Foyne's 
 Island. — Limerick, Friday. — At a nReting of the 
 Limerick Corporation, held this day, steps were taken 
 for the formation of a company to start steam packets 
 between Foynes and America, and several members 
 of the council subscribed £50 each towards the project. 
 A meeting for issuing shares and receiving subscrip- 
 tions, will be held on Monday next. Some of the di- 
 rectors of the Waterford and Wicklow Railway have 
 been on a cruise down the Shannon this week with 
 English capitalists, examining the capabilities of 
 Foynes, which the Royal Commission had reporttd as 
 the best of Irish ports. The result has been most fa- 
 vorable. — [Limerick Chronicle. 
 
 The steamer Sligo, from Sligo, arrived at Glasgow 
 harbor, having on board 121 head of cattle, of which 
 al)Out .30 had perished through the roughness of the 
 weather. Hard weather was first experienced when 
 the steamer was some sixty or seventy miles off the 
 Londonderry coast, and the cattle which were on deck, 
 suffered so much from the tossing of the vessel and the 
 boisterous weather, that many of the beasts fell and 
 were trampled to death by the others. On the vessel 
 reaching the harbor, the carcasses of some 32 beasts 
 were strewed on the deck, and about 30 more 
 were so exhausted that they had to be killed on land- 
 ing. The loss occasioned by this casualty to the deal- 
 ers who exported the animals must be considerable. — 
 [North British Mail. 
 
 The Galwat Atlantic Line. — A deputation on 
 behalf of the Atlantic Royal Mail Steam Navigation 
 Company, consisting of Viscount Bury, M. P.; Mr. 
 Roebuck, M. P.; Mr. John Orrell Lever, and a num- 
 ber of other gentlemen had an interview with Mr. 
 Hamilton, the Secretary of the Treasury, on Thurs- 
 day, on the subject of the postal subsidies by mail ser- 
 vice between Galway, Newfoundland and America. 
 The deputation was favorably received. Mr. Hamil- 
 ton stated that the government viewed the new line of 
 steamers with considerable interest, and attached great 
 importance to being able to communicate between 
 London and Washington in six days. 
 
 The Foreign Trade of Duhlin. — The Indian 
 Queen arrived in our port yesterday with seven hun- 
 dred hogsheads of tobacco, brought direct from Vir- 
 ginia, for our respected and enterprising fellow citizen, 
 Val O'Brien O'Connor, Esq., late high sheritt' of the 
 city. This is, we believe, the first cargo of tobacco 
 imported directly into Dublin for over forty years, and 
 is noteworthy as another evidence of the progress of 
 mercantile enterprise in this kingdum. — [Nation. 
 
 Mr. Waldron, M. P., is granting leases on his 
 Tippefary estates to as many of his tenants as are 
 willing to take them at the advanced rents laid on last 
 year. The advance is in some instances thirty and in 
 others thirty-five per cent. This is rather light lacing 
 for a Tenant Right M. P., while the best wheat is sell- 
 ing for 13d a stone. ' 
 
 I There was a dinner at the Railway Hotel, Galway, 
 on the evening after the Indian Empire sailed. The 
 chair was filled by Thomas Howard, Esq., of Hyde, 
 near Manchester, and the vice-chair by Charles Butler, 
 Esq. It was a select parly of English and Irish gen- 
 tlemen interested in the new company. After the usual 
 toasts, Mr. Howard's health was proposed by the vice- 
 chairman, when that gentleman responded, slating that 
 the undertaking had been originally taken up by a few 
 individuals, but it grown too large for them. A 
 weekly sailing was now necessary, and a great com- 
 pany had been formed to carry out the enterprise with 
 proper completeness and efficiency. 
 
 MISCELLANEOUS NEWS. 
 
 j A DAY or two since you were told that the Vene- 
 tians have recently displayed as much hostility to 
 Austria as the Lombards, and the following facts 
 will corroborate the statement: Some days ago Sig- 
 nora Ristori played Judith, in Glacommetti's drama 
 of the same name, in the Theatre St. Samuel at 
 
 j Venice, and there was a perfect storm of applause 
 when she pronounced the words ' Xame my name 
 to your children, and tell them that war is sacred 
 
 ! which is waged by a nation against a people that 
 invades the country given unto it by the Almighty.' 
 
 I The noise made by the -audience was tremendous, 
 and invectives against Austria were not wanting. 
 There were loud cries of ' Encore, Encore,' but, as 
 
 I theactress could not repeat the passage without the 
 permission of the police, she left the stage in order 
 
 j to obtain it. The Commissary was absent, and, as 
 the tumult continually increased, Ristori at last 
 
 ; returned to her post, and did what was required of 
 her. The lady was rewarded for her complaisance 
 by tremendous cheers, but when she quitted the 
 stage she was overwhelmed with reproaches by the 
 Commissary, who had returned to the theatre just 
 after the four lines had been declaimed for the 
 second time. The employee threatened to arresther, 
 but the public was in such a state of excitement 
 that he did not venture to put his menace into exe- 
 cution. The end of the matter was, that strict 
 orders were issued by the police never again to 
 give Clacommetti's Judith. — [Correspondent of the 
 Times. 
 
 The Pope and Cardinal AViseman. — The Week- 
 ly Register states that at the recent Consistory at 
 Rome, although his Holiness did not deliver a for- 
 mal allocution on the occasion, he addressed a few 
 words full of interest and consolation to the august 
 assembly, particularly alluding to the visit of his 
 Eminence the Cardinal Archbishop of Westminster 
 to Ireland. His Holiness expressed his great satis- 
 faction that he had added to the sacred college such 
 an illustrious and worthy member. The enthusiasm 
 of the Catholics of Ireland his Holiness considered 
 to be equally a triumph for the church, as well as 
 an open and striking protest against the futility of 
 the temptations of the Protestant propaganda. 
 
 We have learned that the Post-Olfice authorities in 
 London are earnestly engaged in the arrangement of 
 all details connected with the contract for improved 
 postal communication between London and Dublin, 
 and which, as the public already know, is to be carried 
 out, on the English side, by the London and North 
 Western and the Chester and Holyhead Railway Com- 
 panies, the sea service being performed by llie City of 
 Dublin Steam Packet Company. Representatives of 
 those companies have been in communication with the 
 Post-Office authorities, and matters arc in a fair train 
 for final arrangment. — [Merciintile Advertiser. 
 
 Jeddah and Perim. — A Trieste despatch says 
 that Lord Straiford de Redclilfe has been instructed to 
 express the regret of the English government for the 
 bombardment of Jeddah, and that England intends to 
 indemnify the Sult.in. It is reported that England 
 will ask to rent the Island of Perim for 100 years. 
 Prince Louis Lucien Bonaparte on Sunday visited 
 
 Keswick and Appleby, accompanied by Mr. John 
 
 Rayson, who has translated for him the Song of 
 
 Solomon into the Cumbcrlaad dialect. 
 
206 
 
 imSH MISCEI.I.ANY. 
 
 HARPER'S MAC«2INE FOR OCTOBER. | -1 wish it tniRht mHVe you Strong enough to bo j VARIOUS ITEMS. 
 
 We re«d «itli invi.l. pl.aMire lldrpir's Mrtqiixine ! well ngnin, Mr. Wh«Uy.'' ' Colfax, of Inrtinnn, cmHli.laif f .r Con(rrc«s lit La 
 
 for October. Straiii'8 •Kidc over the Andes and | -Na, nn! I don't nianc strength for thi* wurld. P"rtc, was ii.lro.lu.f.l to a |,r..min.i.t O.-rman, a liiile 
 Islands and Shores of Greece.' are capital. We | It's streiixth for the lonR journey— strength for the Acnf. ' H..11 I>u.x.' -aiil ihe Ofrmnn, ' to the devil mit 
 with pleasure pluck a llower from the latter, and, I distances no man hath measured or counted. I'm d'r holldax— I pay him now two limeB !' 
 in presenting it to the readers of the Jtiscellany, I goii;({ « far journey, Xdlie — a far journey, and at What ship's boat ought to contain a happy crew ? 
 adtnit that we are touched with the pathetic na- : the i(hir end I'll see some one who had eyes just The jolly bout. 
 turc of the story, as we were often before with ' like yours— just like yours— the same lirown eyes." ] WiihN a mnn is struck by li)'li(nitig, is iKorrcctto 
 
 Owen McCarthy and his -Aileen' in the •Landlord 
 and Tenant.' It is well told:— 
 
 Over this plain we saw the white summit of the 
 Acropolis, distant indeed, hut. with a rUiss. wc 
 could count the columns of the Parthenon. 
 
 •John, that is the Parthenpn.' 
 
 'Ay, Peter. I know "it when I see it, as a boy 
 knows the house in which he was born. AVhy, 
 Peter, there isn't a stone of it that Morris Vhaley, 
 the old teacher of the academy, hasn't beaten into 
 me by dint of scolding and druhbinj?. till I should 
 know the Parthenon, if one of the Genii iti the Ara- 
 bian Nights had taken me up in New York and set 
 me down on the Acropolis." 
 
 •Pleasant recollections and associations!" 
 
 'Yes, pleasant, though you laugh at them. There 
 is Pierre I.aroche now, miserable Gaul that he is — 
 (John dodged a bucket wh'ich Laroche shied at him) 
 Pierre, I say, has no idea of the pleasant associa- 
 tions which an American boy has with his school- 
 days. Morris AVhaley kept school in a log-house 
 long before the academy was built, and there was a 
 trout stream running by the very door, and the 
 shadiest grove in all the world on the other side of 
 the brook, and there was a room for the girls and a 
 room for the boys, and all the day long there was 
 fun and study, and study and fu... going on in that 
 little log school-house. For Morris was a good 
 soul, with none of the pedantry of some teachers, 
 and none of the stuprdity of others. lie had seen 
 the Acropolis, by dint of economy and third class 
 passages. Y'ou need not laugh at my recollections 
 of Mo'rris Whaley. Sit down Peter; stretch you 
 
 And the old man sobbed Nellie had taken his j„y tj,,,, |,e is tliundcrstrurk ' 
 hand wliile he spoke, and now she said softy — 
 
 •Who was she ?' 
 
 •She was my own. own wife, in the long ago 
 years." 
 
 •Were you ever m.irried, sir? 1 didn't know 
 that." 
 
 'Y'e didn't? who did? She that was mine died, 
 it's forty years since, and lies all that day in the 
 church-yard in Oalway. Ah! Slary, Mary Bray, 
 how the ould heart remembers ye !' 
 
 •That was my mother's name, Mr. ^Yhaley.' 
 
 •For God's sake, child, who was your mother ?' 
 and he nearly sprang from his bed to seize her hands 
 and look in her face. 
 
 Thb innn who carries llie thing too far has let it 
 drop. The sberill' was after biin. 
 
 ' Boy,' said an ill-tempered old fellow to a noi»y 
 lad, ' what aic you holleiin' fo' when I am going by V 
 ' Humph," returned the boy, ' what arc you going by 
 for when I am hoUerin' V 
 
 Makb friends with the steward on board a steamer; 
 there is no knowing how soon you may be placed ia 
 his power. 
 
 Whicb is the most cetestiitl piiri of the British 
 empire ? The Isle of Sky. 
 
 The tail is the canine indicator of joy. In caress- 
 ing a strange dogxou should alw.iys 'wait for the 
 
 Well, it all came out that Nellie was his own wagcin !' The reader will at a (jliince, be fully alive 
 grandchild, daughter of his runaway child that he to the danger of strukiny a dog without a tail. 
 
 hadn't seen for thirty odd years. But the shock 
 was too much for the old man, and three days after 
 he died. All the afternoon his mind wandered, and 
 in the twilight he was quite beside himself. Very | 
 gentle, though, he was, and at one time he would 
 commence •Odi profanum vulgus,' or the sonorous 
 •-■Vrma virunique.' or some other familiar school 
 passages; and then, when the night was changing 
 into dawn, and the uncertain light stole in at the 
 window, through the branches of the pear-tree, the 
 old man turned in his bed, and spoke in a low 
 voice, 'John — ' 
 
 'Ease off the main-sheet.' 
 
 'Well, he didn't say that exactly. You might be 
 a little more polite, Mr. Thompson, than to inter- 
 rupt me in that way. He said John, and I said, 
 
 bones along the top of the hatchway, if you're too | ."What is it, Mr. Wholey r' and he said, 'Is Nellie 
 proud to lie on the deck as I do, and I'll tell you sleeping :' and I said she was, and so he— yes. Mr 
 about Morris's death, while the ship is making the 
 
 A confimed tippler wa* boihcivd liow to honor his 
 hirtlidiiy. A brilliant idua struck liim. lie kept 
 sohi-r. 
 
 It seems to me that this blessed world will never 
 want something to qiarrel about so long as there are 
 two straws upon it. 
 
 Dnori>iNG a Svt-LAnLE. — The facetious Mr. Bear- 
 croft told his ItiiMid, Ml. Vansittarl, ' Your name is 
 such a lonn one, 1 shall drop the sittart, and call you 
 Van for the future.' ' With all my heart," said he ; 
 ' bv the same rule, I shall drop crol'i, and cull you 
 Bear.' 
 
 ' I am sorry to say,' said a sheriff to a hand.somo 
 young widow ' that I have an attachment for you.' 'I 
 am happy to say, sir, that it isn't mutunl.' 
 
 Mdcii has been said about feats of strength, but it 
 is an actual fact that a few days agi, a man of but 
 
 PircEUS.' 
 
 So I sat down, and the others gathered around, 
 and, as the boat cleaved her way through the classic 
 waters, we listened to the story. 
 
 'Morris Whaley was growing old. lie was, per- 
 haps, sL\ty-liveor seventy years old. No one knew 
 exactly his age, and the old man was always quiet 
 about it himself. He boarded with the minister, 
 and the two used to make the evenings slip by 
 pleasantly with talk and pioes. 
 
 'There was one little girl that went to the acad- 
 ihose blue eyes had won special admiration 
 
 ' Thompson's interruption wa.s not so 'mal-apropos' 1 ordinary stature knocked down an Ucphant. The 
 eithtr-he eased off the main-sheet, put up his '; performer of the great feat was an auctioneer. 
 
 emy 
 
 from tl e old master. Many a day I have seen him. 
 
 helm, and slipped away before a soft south wind — | 
 away— ah ! Puter, where away ? Shall you and I 
 ever se; old Morris again ■ — ever sail our boat in 
 seas that he is navigating ?' 
 
 A very poor look — A j^il window. 
 
 UrsN a traveller telling Gen. Doyle, an Irishman, 
 thfit he had been where the bujis were so large and 
 powerful that two of them would drain a man's blond 
 in one night, the General replied : ' My good, sir, we 
 
 ) A horse-dealer, in describing a U'^edup horse, said 
 he looked ' as if he had been editing a daily news- 
 
 BuRYixG Alive. — Too much caution cannot be | (,ave the same unimuls in Ireland, but they are called 
 e.xercised in the buiial of persons who do not ex- , hum bugs.' 
 
 hibit unmistakable signs of death. A woman not j .^7„^T,ia dat, Samho what goes from Bosting to 
 long ago was buried alive in a small village in the I jj,.^ York widout movin' 1'— ' Me guvs dat up, Pomp.' 
 northern part of Alabama. A vault was recently j . yfby^ niirger, it's a railroad !' ' 
 opened in Vienna, in which the body of a rich min, 
 supposed to be dead, had been deposited fifteen 
 om ti^e oiu """'J<='- ^"^""/'T"' " "I.'i^'on ^hc I y-Ts before, when, to thehorror of the spectators, 
 when he seemed to be listening to ine lesson sue \ j , . . , j naper. 
 
 ncr. anu jc u. r | ^^^^^^ ^^^ ^^^ ^^^^ buried in n trance, and coin- ; "gni'ng » m"'"' ' 
 
 ^'^But finiUy cam- the day when old Morris was to j ing to his senses, had broken open the coffin, and I It ain't them that stares the most that sees the best. 
 
 an out into the it.tinite mysteries of which he loved I cr^jvled to the steps to get out. W ho can imagine a stnndup dickey first worn in Hull, June 5th, 
 
 Lmetimet. to talk. While he was sick we all I the agony he suffered in that horrid prison before A. D. 1797. 
 
 watched around his bed, for all the boys loved him. I death came to Jus release ? M^-st have bi!EN WATEii-Tionr —A clergyman, 
 
 One day, when I was alone with him, he said to — ~— „(,„ ^g, reading to his congn gallon a chapter in 
 
 hi broad Irish accent Labor SconNF.ns. — Only fools and drones scorn Genesis, found the last sentence on the pace to be — 
 
 ""oohn d ve ever ace Nellie Bliss now-a-daya ?' and condemn labor— fools and drones, whose daily | • A.id tlic Lord Ravo unto Adam a wife' 
 
 •Yes Mr' Whaley. she was here a litUe while ' livelihood is a swindle upon brave and ungrudging ! Turning «vcr two leaves together, he found written, 
 ago. to ask'about vou.' | toil. The dwelling of the nabob, the food, raiment. 
 
 •Was she though ? The Lord bless her ! I wish ' and all surroundings by which he goes forth to play 
 
 I had seen ber. Do you think, John, she'd be his shallow game of dazzle, are the fruit and crea- 
 
 thinking it too much if vou just asked her to step | tion of labor. Let the tailor, the .shoemaker, and 
 
 in a bit and see the ould man ?' ! the hatter, the farmer,artizan, mechanic,and worker 
 
 •She was there that afternoon, and when I asked ; of every kind, say to the labor scorntr, ' Wc will 
 
 her she i 
 
 1 serve thee no more,' and what would be his fate i 
 
 imd read, in an audible voice — 
 
 ' And she nan pitched without and within.' 
 
 He had unhappily gut into a description of Noah's 
 ark. 
 
 A Dutchman, being asked how often he shaved, 
 replied, ' Dree dimes a week, effery tay but Soontay j 
 den I shave effi-ry lay.' 
 
 A Gentleman presented a collar to his wife, and in a 
 
 ' Ih' Miss Nellie yc're a blessed child, to think ; Either to toil honestly to clothe, feed and shelter „ „ - , - ,-.- - - 
 
 o- DOor Mor.is Whaley. He gathers strength from \ himself, or be driven forth naked like the savage, to jocular way said, ■ Don't let any one else rumple iti' 
 
 . -„„, niake his burrow amongst the beasts of the earth. | 'No, dear,' said the lady, '1 will uko it off.' 
 
 666uig youx lace. 
 
 I 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 207 
 
 SUBSCRIBE! SUBSCRIBE! SUBSCRIBE! 
 
 TH:E IRISH MISCELLANY 
 
 IKDUOKIIENTS TO NKW SUBSCIUDKUS. 
 
 OUR NEW VOLUME. 
 
 Havinf; flivornbly comnu-iiced llic second volume of our 
 publication, we seize the oceasiou tor the purpose of teu- 
 dering thanks to those of onr friends who havcso,£(Cucrou8- 
 ly coutribiiled to our j^upport. To start, and successAiUy 
 carry on an ordinary newspaper, sp that it will, in a rea- 
 fionnblc space of time, become romiinerativo to its proprie- 
 tors, is a task not easily accomplished, and which consum- 
 mation does not EjeueraJIy happen in one case ont of a hun- 
 dred. Our enterprise, beinjr of a nature entirely dilferent 
 from that of any other Irish paper heretofoi-e established 
 in this country— requiring a much greater expenditure of 
 capital and artistic talent— caused ns serious misgivings, 
 and a constant fear that it would not meet the desires and 
 expectations of our patrons. How far oureflbrts have been 
 suecessful, is for them to decide; "but we trust that it will 
 Dot be considered egotistical on our part when we assert 
 that the Miscellany has far exceeded the most sanguine ex- 
 pectations of partial friends, and that even those who have 
 been enemies from tlie start have made suitable acknowl- 
 edgment of its merit. 
 
 Since we have had thecontrol of the«Miscellany our way 
 has not been — 
 
 *The primrose path of dalliance ' 
 
 We have been beset by obstacles innumerable; but having 
 a strong confidence in our ultimate success, we were deter- 
 mined to surmount all barriers, and though we have not, 
 as yet, brought the paper to that pitch of perfection which 
 is our desire, we trust soon to make it as acceptable as is 
 possible to our readers. •• 
 
 lu beginning a new volume, we introduce various inno- 
 vations, tending to the improvement of the paper, in 
 every way that is possible. We shall give each week, an 
 epitome of Irish news — not the hdcknied local quotations 
 which interest only the few, but extracts from the leading 
 journals, which will be gratifying to the many. In this 
 respect, we will not be following in the steps of any of our 
 contemporaries, but, on the contrary, will be striking out 
 a path eminently our own. It will also be our aim to give 
 the best class of wood engravings which can be procured, 
 portraying national subjects, and, as our outlay in this re- 
 spect will be infinitely largerthan that of any Irish journal 
 published in this country, we look for a commensurate re- 
 turn. In short, it is our intention to make the paper meet 
 the requirements of all classes of readers. 
 
 As an Inducement, therefore, to new subscribers, we offer 
 to each person who will pay one years' subscription in ad- 
 vance, commencing with the first number of the first 
 volume, (not the second, as inadvertantly stated in previous 
 numbers,) directly to us or through any of our authorized 
 local or travelling agents, a copy of our first Gitl Picture, 
 representing Sarsiield's Surprise of the Seige Train of the 
 Prince of Orange. When completed, each volume of the 
 Miscellany will form a book of four hundred and six- 
 teen (416) pages, -and will alone be worth the price Of an 
 entire year's subscription. The same inducements are offer- 
 ad to clubs, as to single subscribers. 
 
 CLUBS! clubs:; clubs::! 
 
 There is no town or village so small, but a club of six or 
 more subscribers for the Irish Miscellany can be easily ob- 
 tained. Will those of our friendswho are well-wishers ol 
 the land of their birth, do us the fjfvor of getting up Clubs. 
 Our terms will be— 
 To a club of six persons sent to one address, 3510,00 
 
 To a club of twelve, 19.00 
 
 The whole of the money must invariably be sent at one 
 remittance, and in advance. 
 
 In addition to this great reduction of price, each member 
 of a Club will be entitled to copies of all our splendid Gift 
 Pictures. Let our friends exert themselves, and by their 
 patronage make the Miscellany the foremost Irish journa 
 ou tliia continent. 
 
 TRAVELLING AGENTS WANTED. 
 
 We have determined to appoint a number of Travelling 
 Agents, to travel in the various States of the Union and 
 cauvasa for subscribers for this paper We do this at the 
 earnest request of many warm friends, who think \»e do 
 not take the requisite steps to make the paper known as ex- 
 tensively as it ought to be. 
 
 Per60i\g desirous of becoming Travelling Agents, who 
 can be well recommended, are requested to apply at our 
 office forthwith. None but faithful, reliable men need ap 
 ply. To soch a liberal commission will be allowed. Apply 
 at our Publication Office, 4 Water street, lioston. 
 
 Back NmiBEug of the Miscellany, from the commence 
 ment of the paper, may be procured through any of our 
 regular agents, or by sending direct to the office of publi 
 cation, No. 4 Water street, Boston. Will our friends in 
 want bear this fact In mind? 
 
 ADVERTISEMENTS 
 
 MERCANTILE AND WRITING SCHOOL. 
 
 E. J. GLEESON, Master. 
 
 This School is now opened at No. 23 Potitland Stuket, 
 a few doors south of Dooley's Exciiange Hotel, where a 
 select and limitetl number of the Youth of both sexes will 
 be admitted ; time from 9 A. M. to 12 M., and from 2 P. M 
 to 6 P.M. 
 
 TERMS MODERATE. 
 
 EVENING SCHOOL! 
 
 This school will be opened in ttie same place on the first 
 evening of next month, where adults and those of riper 
 years, will be carefully and assiduously instructed in the 
 various branches of learning-, suitable to their calling. 
 
 BOOK-KEEPING: 
 
 Mr. Gleeson ventures to say, and pledges himself without 
 hesitation, that he will qualify young gentlemen for the 
 Counting Room, in half the time that is consumed in simi- 
 lar institutions in this city, and at considerable less ex- 
 pense. 
 
 August 17th, 1858. aug28 
 
 FINii KEADY MADE CLOTHING 
 
 — A^B — 
 . • CUSTOM TAILORING. 
 
 SPRING OVEKCOATS, 
 
 BUSINESS COATS, 
 
 FROCK AND DRESS COATS, 
 
 PANTS AND VESTS, 
 Good, Sttlish, Well Made Gakments, 
 Such as men of taste and good judgment will wear, can at 
 all fimes be found at our store. 
 Our aim is to produce for our customers the best Ready 
 Made Garments at the lowest possible prices for 
 CASH. 
 
 Readers of this Journal are earnestly solicited to exam- 
 ine our goods before pui-chasing. 
 
 J W. SMITH & CO., 
 
 DooK Square, cornek Elm Street. 
 my 11 tf 
 
 CATHOLIC BOOK STORE. 
 
 WILLIAM HICKEY, Catholic Bookseller, and Agent 
 for the Extensive Publishing House of D. & J. 
 Sadliek & Co., of New York. 
 The latest and most varied stock of Religious Prints, 
 MISSALS, PRAYER BOOKS, CROSSES, 
 and all the Current Literature, constantly on hand. 
 
 No. 128 Pederal (corner of Williams) street, 
 BOSTON, MASS. 
 
 P . MORRIS, 
 
 APOTHECARY, 
 
 Corner of Federal and Purchase streets, foot of Summer 
 
 street, BosTOK. 
 
 STRICT personal attention paid to compounding Physi 
 clan's Prescriptions. A choice selection of Family 
 Medicines constantly on hand. A well selected stock of 
 genuine imported Perfumery and Fancy Goods. Soda 
 Waterwith choice Syrups. A large assortment of genuine 
 Havana Segars constantly on hand. ap5 
 
 GENERAL TICKET OFFICE 
 
 —FOR THE — 
 
 SOUTHERNAND WESTERN STATES 
 
 AND 
 
 THE CANADAS, 
 No. 2 ALBAifT Street, Boston. 
 
 EDWARD RYAN, Agent. 
 
 N. B. — Passage to and ft-om Liverpool, and Bills of Ex- 
 change on England, Ireland and Scotland. 
 
 ap24 ly 
 
 J. & R. MURPHY, 
 
 MANUB-ACTtTRERS OF 
 
 SURGICAL AND DENTAL INSTRUMENTS, 
 CUTLERY, 
 
 AND STEEL AVORK OF EVERY KIND, 
 JVo. 3 HARVARD PLACE. (oppoHto the Old South,) 
 
 BOSION, MaSS. 
 ll^Cutlery and Instruments of all kinds Repaired. 
 ly ' nug28 
 
 ADVERTISEMENTS. 
 
 THE IRISH VINDICATOR. 
 
 A WEEKLY NEWSPAPER, 
 
 The Best and Cheapest Published ih Ameuica. 
 
 THIS splendid Paper, which is little over nine months 
 in existence, has met with the 
 
 MOST WONDERFUL SUCCESS, 
 
 and has been pronounced by the Press and the Public to be 
 
 superior to any other Irish Weekly in the United States. 
 
 It contains each week, the very 
 
 Latest News from evert County m Irelahs j 
 
 Original and entertaining 
 
 'STORIES AND ANECDOTES, 
 
 and a variety of Miscellaneous Reading matter, of a charac- 
 ter which cannot fail to elevate and chasten the intel- 
 lectual appetite. The Irish Vindicator is devoted 
 
 TO THE INTERESTS OF IRISHMEN IN AMERICA, 
 and is so cheap as to be within the reach of the poorest. 
 
 ONLY THREE CENTS A COPY. 
 
 THE FOLLOWING ARE THE TERMS 
 
 . To any part of the United States, for one year, Sl.SO 
 Do. do. do. for 8 months, 1.00 
 
 Do. do. do. for 4 months, 0.50 
 
 Do. do. do. for 1 month, 0.12 
 
 To any part of Canada or the British Provinces, one year, 
 $2,00— All payments in advance. 
 
 FOR ADVERTISING, 
 
 12 lines, single insertion Sl.OO | 12 lines, 1 month, S2.50 
 
 12 do. 3 months, 6.50 | 12 do. 1 year, 16.00 
 
 Published every week, at the Office, No 10 Spruce street. 
 New York, by the Proprietors. 
 
 SOUTH END CATHOLIC BOOK STORE, 
 
 And Depot for the Sale of the 
 
 METROPOLITAN AND YOUTHS' MAGAZINES. 
 
 WILLIAM KEATING, Agent, 
 
 8 1-2 Harrison Avenue, or at his New Periodical Store, 176 
 
 Harrison Svenue, Boston, Mass., 
 
 Where a great variety of the most popular Books and 
 
 Papers cam be had at the very lowest prices, 
 
 WILL supply Clubs, Agents, CanvasserSj &c.. on the 
 same terms as the Publishers. The following are 
 the terms— 3 copies will be sent bv mail, to one address, tor 
 one year .S5; 6 copies for SIO; 13 copies lor $20: 20 copies 
 for .$.30. 
 
 (17^ On the receipt of S3, three copies of the Catholic 
 Youth's Magazine and one copy of the Metropolitan will 
 be mailed regularly tor one year. 
 
 \rr' A few sets of the Magazines from the beginning, can 
 be had of the Agent. Also, all new books furnished as 
 soon as published. ap24 Smos 
 
 NORTHERN HOUSE, 
 
 NORTH SQUARE— BOSTON. 
 
 JOHN GLANCY Proprietob. 
 
 This House has rooms equal to any first class Hotel, and 
 permanent or transient Boarders can be accommodated 
 nearly one half cheaper than at any other House in the 
 City. 
 
 In the Reading Room can be found all the morning and 
 evening papers, and periodicals of the day, together with 
 an extensive Library, for the free and exclusi\ e use ol 
 the Boarders. 
 
 N. B. Strangers visiting Boston, can always find this 
 House a Home. 
 
 OLD COLONY HOUSE. 
 
 PATRICK HOLLY begs leave to announce to his pat- 
 rons and the public generally that he has constantly 
 on hand at his old and well-known stand, 
 
 THE OLD COLONY HOUSE, 
 
 CORNER OF KNEELAND AND SOUTH STREETS, 
 A CHOICE ASSORTMENT OP 
 
 BRANDIES, WINES, SCOTCH & IRISH 
 
 WHISKEY, CIGARS, &c. &c., 
 
 all of the very first quality, winch can be obtained too at 
 
 LOWER RATES 
 
 than elsewhere in the markel ; in proof of which he invites 
 purchasers to give him a call. aiig 28 
 
 FRANCIS GODFREY, 
 
 IMPORTER AND RESTORER OF 
 
 ITALIAN PAINTINGS, 
 
 AND MANUFACTURER OF GILT FRAMES, 
 
 12 Franklin Street, Boston. 
 tty Engravings, Lithographs, Crayons, &c., on sale. 
 8«> aug28, 
 
208 
 
 IRISH MISCKLLAKY. 
 
 CAN MASSACHUSETTS BE REDEEMED' i which U n proper Hel<l for the clubs, if they arc really 
 This iiuc.Hilua we |)ro|iosc asking and purpose nn- sincere in their prore9>iuna of ubcI'uIdos. If the sec- 
 swcrin);, nt n lime when the liilVerviii poliiical parties | tional and lii^oicct |iariic9 unite lu <le|<rive this niitional 
 are arravcil under their respiciive banners, liil by the I eleineni of its just ri);hts by cnaeiinents ami taxn- 
 cluqueni and ' trunipct-tonj;ued' of their orators, to '■ tion, it in the duly of the ilcmoerucy to o|)|io*e them by 
 measure iheir strtn^^ih at the luoal holy of all republi- every le^nl means. There should be an urftaniscd 
 can institutions — the ballut-box. system entered into for tlVcctin|{ it, and it should be 
 
 Ue<lccmed from what, becomes the inqoiry ? Arc i cuniplete in all its ramitiealions. Not immediately 
 ne not living in Mnssaehusetts, and is not Boston the preceding elections, but immediately alter, is the time 
 Athens of the new world, and ihi* the latter half of the to b<);in, and continue till successful ; and by such an 
 nineteenth ivntury t Boston, the tirih place of Frank- addition to their ranks, which would be found fully up 
 lin, of Hancock, of Wam'n, and the host uf true to number before specilied, the Democraiic party 
 patriots who, with souls on fire, •temnud the waves of would redeem the stale from its present de(;radation, 
 oppression, and tluui; back the tyrant— Boston, where i and place it once more as a jewel in the diadem of the 
 is ihe Very C'riMile of Liberty, whence you can | ctiifederalion. 
 
 look on (he proud and roouumeiital pile on Bunker's ' The adofited citizen would then believe he lived in a 
 Hill — Boston, which (;avo ils brains and blood and j republic, not where birth, religion, or labor, deprived 
 treasure to the holy cause of freedom — Boston, which ' him of the franchise, or lowered him below the level of 
 
 ▲I)VBBTI8BM.S!NTB. 
 
 sunk the English tea and taxes to(;eiher, and which, 
 without firinj; a gun, scut me Briti--h red coats out the 
 harbor, to seek cUeHheit a resting place. Yes, the 
 part which old Massachusetis look in that cause never 
 can be erased while history can record her name and 
 her actions ; brightest in ihe galaxy of those old thir- 
 Icwi siars, which at that day astonished the world, and 
 gave liberty to millions. 
 
 But Boston hated England and taxes and tyranny 
 then, aud she loved the Union and the Constitution ; 
 nay, she even admired her Irish generals and states- 
 men — the Sullivons and the Starkey.s — more than the 
 negroes whom she held in bondage. Massachusetts 
 now, like the nations of old, has 'gone afier false gods — 
 she is joined to her idols.' Shall she be let alone ? 
 She now loves her cousins, the Engli>h, and boasts of 
 her Saxon descent ; she now taxes the poor man, and 
 drives him from the ballot-box; she now repudiates 
 the Union, aod wishes it may 'slide ' ; she now wor- 
 ships the negro, and places hint bifore the white man ; 
 she is now bigoted, intolerent. fanatic, and guilty of 
 treason. She only hates the Pope and Roman Catho- 
 lics, and from those plague spots of heresy must she 
 be redeemed. 
 
 The dominant party in the State is as perfect in dis- 
 cipline as any political association can be. Tiiis is 
 owing, we believe, to the way in which they stick to their 
 frieniiB. Compelsncy has nothing to do with any 
 office ; it is, what is he vsorih to the party ? what in- 
 fluence has he got ? how much political work can he 
 do? Thus judges, doctors, sherilTs, jailers, down to 
 door-keepers, are weighed and paid with place. The 
 crying and whining sympathy of those philanthropists 
 <bt the negro is the most despicable farce ever played 
 or presented to common sense. Nor will it be played 
 out in a hurry, for its appeals go forth from the pulpit, 
 and take a hold on every woman's heart, thus the 
 children growing up inhale it, and the husband gets it 
 rehashed for dinner, besides it being his ' caudle lec- 
 ture ' at night. 
 
 The discipline of the Americans is complete. All 
 their strength appears at the bullot-box ; they poll their 
 last man. 
 
 The Democratic party alone has material unused 
 aj>i inexhaustible. From lea to fifieen thousand 
 Irish worting men, who cannot atford to pay the price 
 set upon tlieir voles by the State, have to stay away. 
 They cannot, out of five or six dollars per week, ren- 
 der the property qualification necessary for a voter in 
 the'State of Massachusetis. Principle they have, love 
 for the francliise they have, but the three dollars for 
 their last papers, and the two dollars and ten cents for 
 taxes, they hare not ; and the Black Kepoblicans 
 know this, and well understand the fact. A single 
 man may deprive himself of many little comfurta to 
 
 a whole souled man. Stioner or later the Democratic 
 party must act on the suggestions here thrown out, or 
 give up all thoughts of redeeming Massachusetts. 
 
 We have received from Mr. Donahoe, the pub- 
 lisher, a very neat edition of a work entitled ' Balls 
 and Dancing,' being a translation of Father Hulot's 
 learned treatise on dances. The work is valuable 
 just at this time, now that the dancing season is 
 supposed to have set in. It is well to say the book 
 points out the evils attending dancing, and shows 
 in the plainest manner dancing to be an enemy to 
 strict moral principles. 
 
 At a meeting of the Fen ihin Literary Associa- 
 tion of Charlestown, held on the 2Gth ult., Andrew 
 Burns VN-as elected president, and Chas. K. Sweeney 
 vice-presdcnt, for the ensuing year. The reports of 
 the various committees show the society to be in a 
 flourishing condition. 
 
 STEAM TO ALL PAKTS OF CHEAT BRITAIN 
 
 —VIA THE— 
 
 ATLANTIC ROYAL MAIL STEAMSHIP CO'S 
 
 NEW YORK AND GALWAY LINE. 
 
 Tills is the shortest route between Europe and Amer- 
 ica. The line is composed of powerful and fast sail- 
 ing steamships, ably oHicered, and furnished with evcry- 
 tiiing re()uisite to render the voyage safe and agreeable. 
 Tlie departures from New York for Uahvay will be as fol- 
 lows, until further notice, viz- — 
 rAClKIC, William C. Thompson Friday, Nov. 8. 
 
 I'ersous visiting Ireland reach their destination in three- 
 fourths the time taken bv any other route, and all have an 
 opportunity ol visiting places aud scenery of unrivalled in- 
 terest in Ireland. 
 
 Trice of passage, including free tickets by the usual rail- 
 road routes from (ialway to any of the principal cities ot 
 Great Uritain, at the following reduced rates: — First class 
 8iK). second class S50, third clnse S3U. 
 
 Those wishiug to bring their frieude to this country can 
 purchase tickets for their passage in third class from Ual- 
 way at S30, or from other cities iu Great Britain, accessible 
 by railroad, S35. A liberal cabin table will be provided, 
 and cooked provisions for third class passengers to and 
 from tjalway. 
 
 For freight and passage and further particulars apply to 
 the American Kxpi-ess Compauy, 61 Hudson street, New 
 York , or 
 
 ol6 
 
 informs his friends and the 
 public, that he keeps conslantlv on hand COFFINS 
 of all sizes and kinds, at hi:* C utile Mauolactory, No 347 
 Federal, between Beach and Kneelund Streets, Buslon, 
 which he will sell as reasonable a^ can be bought at any oth- 
 er place in the city. 
 
 ]|^. It.— Orders punctually attended to, day or night- 
 
 Ke>tldence, No. 28 South street. Boston. 
 
 (n7*Cir&ve-Clutlie« fXirnished to order at short notice. 
 
 febl3 
 
 TEN KEADY WAYS TO MAKE MONEY, being ten 
 original receipts for the manulikcturc of usefuFarti- 
 cles, which command a 4]uick sale, aud insure a full pocket. 
 , Formerly sold for S5: but now sent to auy pcrsou lor oue 
 pay his taxes ; l>uc il is doubtful wheiiier the usual : gold dollar. Address T L. KLf LLV, Teace Dale, K. I. 
 
 amount oC patriotifim wilt force a f^ood faUicr to de- 
 
 Dbbxottd, Lead- 
 
 for Military aud 
 guadrille 
 
 TlIE SOUTJIEUN CITIZEN, 
 
 TS publUhed week h at Knoxvllle, Tennessee, by JOHN 
 MUVHKI.I. & WM.G.SWAN. m r^per Bm.um, or 
 $1 lor M.X ul<lllltl^, payable invariably in udv itnoe. 
 
 Mr. Mitchell tiu\iuK comnteheed in the *28tli number ol 
 (be pni>er, u series uf Leltent addreM4.-d to the Hon- Alex- 
 ander ll. Stephens of (ieorgju, which when completed will 
 fUrul^h an entire history ol 
 
 THE IRISH TROUBLES OF 1848. 
 
 With their Causes and Conueiiucnces, 
 
 The Southern Citizen will be Ihe more iuterenting lo both 
 American and Irish readerti. Besides thes*; cuniributiuns 
 from Mr. ftliichel, the Southern Citizen will coiiliiiue to 
 have its ut«nal nuantity of original matter u|Kjn pulliical 
 and literary sulijects prepared bv him. I'he circulation, 
 thu ■ " ■ ' 
 
 hov 
 nn-nt In ttii-' fn 
 
 I be much more exteuded by au auno 
 
 Jlil.l 
 
 ■1 H; .S\MM 
 
 lulloV 
 
 "ili A/^iJ 
 
 .S (. 
 
 Curliliu. 
 
 with reraitlances may be addresed to 
 Iviiuxville, TeuiicsAue, Or to auy uf tbo 
 
 i Co, riin 
 nur, SavHuuali.'Oa; .1 C M<i 
 Geutrv, t^icliinuud, Vu; Ali 
 TuMiiiuKC& Tun 
 
 . SC: TliomaK H O'Con- 
 S'uw llrli'uUN Lu; Jus A 
 - A.luiiiMiii, WufhiliKlun 
 
 Hi, II; r.M iiiuiriv, no 
 
 N V. Kiii>j)ly dealers only 
 
 iricl, N V, mnnlv ( 
 •isMciiiiiii, 121 I've 
 
 upuii reasuliitble leruip; .Juilles Mcliilill, 121 Kearney street 
 Sun I'>unci^cu. 
 *.* Clubs of tuM wilt be supplied with the jiaper lor 816. 
 
 Drive his wife or liule ones of bread, paying as he does A WILLIAMS k CO.. Wholesale Agents, for the Ikish 
 
 ■^ • r / f> I .^^, Ml9tKLl.ANV. llie TiBde supph.d With Books, I'e- 
 
 Sl 50 or more per week for rent, and his taxes coming I riodicals and >'ewKp«pcr». Special Agnnts for Harper k 
 
 <lue in N'ovcmber, a ion of coals about Uiat time is "f^jj^" »'"''"'="''<»" 
 
 even preferable to tjie patriotism which is doubaalofj ^„.,^^^.^.^ bk.gaDK UAXU 
 
 availing sacccs«. | ±^ er. Are prepared tu furiii.-li II 
 
 The Dciooeialic partv can never axpect to be sac- 1 V.'*'jl'*"'^'i'H' 1^ ll"^"' {''^''"M'f- ' , ,, j- , 
 
 ^ • ^ f Band famulied, if desired. Addres« J. Desmond, Gar« of 
 
 cessful withoat endeavoring to bring oat thie strength, | Bar. J. O'DonBall, LRwreno«, Mau. 
 
 W. J. HENNESSY, 
 ARTIST, 
 
 No. 87 FRANKLIN STREET, 
 ^'EW YORK CITY. 
 
 PASSENGER CERTIFICATES. 
 
 TO DLL) CUL'NTltVMEN. (Jwkn Jlc Namara has 
 rassa«e Ceitilleates and Uralts always on hand and 
 for sate. As lie docs businehs I'ur ttiat niohi ^e^pectabte 
 house, (Williams & Guion) in Xew Vorli. Old Countrymen 
 desirine to send for their IrieudK, or remit money, would 
 do wcllto give tiim a call at No. 4 Goiiiiam St.. apposite 
 Summer St.. Lowell, Mass E^c: 
 
 TKEANdR & GLINKV, ATFOUNEVS ASD COUNSEL 
 Ums AT LAW, 15 Massachusetts Block, Court square, 
 Bustou. 
 
 117~rarticular attention paid to Conveyancing, and b« 
 examination of titles of Ueal Hslale. febl 
 
 C^ILMtJllE'b SALEM yUADltlLLE BANL>. E. t'l'- 
 TTON, Jr.. I'ronipler. Apply to 1". S. (jILmobe. Es- 
 sex House. Salkh. Mass. feblS 
 
 UUU AGENTS. 
 
 Boston —John J. Over, & Co., 35 School street; A. Wil- 
 liams & Co.. 1(10 Wa-sliiiigton street : Fedhf rcn & Co., 9 and 
 13 Court street; Wm. Ilickey. 128 Federal street'; Howe fe 
 Co., 11 Court Avenue; aud William Keating, 17C liarrison 
 Avenue, 
 
 Bangor, Me.— Edward J. Kelleher. 
 
 New York.— Dexter & Brother, 14 fc 18 Ann street. 
 
 Troy, N. V. — Francis Koarke. 
 
 Philadelphia.— A. Winch, 320 Chestnut street. 
 
 Ohio.— M. U. Bird. Cincinnati, aud Uawks fc Brothers, 
 Cleaveland. 
 
 Detroit, Mich.— J. A. Roys. 
 
 St. Louis. Mis.«ouri.— Thomas Duggan. 
 
 New Orleans, La.— James M. shine. 
 
 California— James Mctiinn, of San Francisco. 
 
 The Misc'Uanii may also be had, retail, of newspaper and 
 periodical dealers tliroughout the country. 
 
 TKAVELLINO AGENTS. 
 
 John Warren, 60 Andover street, lor Boston and vicinity. 
 James Doyle, of Millburv, Mats. M. Findlay McKs/, 
 of Amcsburv, Mass. Edwiird II. Kccnan, ol North Ferns- 
 burg, Vt. Michael F. llackett, of I'rovidcnce. K. I. James 
 SulPivan. of New Haven, Ct. James Cullen, of West Troy, 
 N. V. Daniel A. Brosuan, of Washington, D. C. 
 
 RATES OF ADVERTISING. 
 
 FOB EACH SyCABEOF TWELVE LINES. 
 
 First insertion, . . . SlOO | Three months, . . »6.00 
 
 Each subsoiucnt do . 60 j One year 16.00 
 
 Six lines or less constitute halt a square. 
 
 Larger advertikements charged in proportion. 
 
 Business Notices, solid ... 10 cents per line. 
 
 " " leaded ... 16 " " " 
 
 BUSINFSS CARDS of six lines ob less. 
 For On Mouth,. . . S1.60 j Six Months, . . . »6.00 
 
 Three Months, . . . »3.U0 | One Year M.OO 
 
 *«*AII advertisements payable in adrance. 
 
 THE 
 
 IRISH MISCELLANY 
 
 Is published weeklv. and devoted to the Interests and rln- 
 dioBtion of the Irish iicople throughout the world. 
 
 The it/i-icrHany republishes each week one whole number 
 of the old • Ddblin I'ennv Jocbnal,' with original and 
 selected essays, reviews, pi>clry. &c., by Irishmen, of first- 
 rate abilitv. It also contains beautinil I'ictorial Illustra- 
 tions of Irish scenery and other objects of interest, among 
 which mav be eiiumcruted engravings ol the ancient cas- 
 tles and round toners, the nuns of the old churches, the 
 plundered monasteries, convents and abbeys of Ireland. 
 
 It will also contain correct I'ictorial representations ot 
 works of art executed by Irishmen ol the present day, as 
 well as in former times, in this country aud throughout 
 Europe. 
 
 Tkumb. — S2,00 per year, invariably in advance. 
 THOMAS O'NEILL, rnopniETOB. 
 MICHAEL J. WALSH, CoNuucTOB, 
 Ho. 4 Watkk Btrkr, Bostoh, Mass. 
 
'l\urit^-' 
 
 VOLUME 2— NUMBER 40.] BOSTON, SATURDAY, NOVEMBER 13, 1858. [PRICE FOUR CENTS. 
 
 THE FOUR COURTS. 
 
 Sir: — I think a man who walks through any town 
 except such a mushroom city as starts up in a day 
 in the forests of America, must, if he has any mind 
 beyond that necessary for providing his daily bread, 
 or any curiosity beyond that which tempts him to 
 peep into a shop window, ponder the various events 
 that, from time to time, have taken place on the 
 ground on which he walks, and summon up in rapid 
 recollection the various characters whose faces he 
 remembers as having met in passing along. Per- 
 haps few are so well adapted for exercising such 
 reminiscences as a quinquagenarian, or few places 
 
 the attorney foregoes bills of costs, to think of his 
 bill of fare, and even the grim judge smoothes his 
 I wrinkled brow in anticipation of the pleasanter dis- 
 cussion of a turbot than a law point; besides, about 
 four o'clock, those who have occasion to levee the 
 lord lieutenant, or the chief secretary, are returning 
 from the castle, and you may meet, sailing down 
 this great gulf-stream of men, a portly bishop, 
 whose thoughts are intent on a translation, or a 
 shovel-hatted dean, who has just reminded the 
 ' viceroy how deserving he is of a mitre. Then, at 
 1 four o'clock, also, the merchants congregate about 
 i College Green, and you may observe just opposite 
 
 form of a pistol, which evinces that he is fearlessly, 
 yet apprehensively, prepared, and which all the 
 world knows he would use, and could use. Here 
 have I met Big Bully Egan and Little Philpot Cur- 
 ran, bandying jokes at each other as they passed 
 along, and Henry Grattan, striding like Poucet in 
 his seven-leagued boots, and stooping as if he was 
 carrying the genius of Ireland astride on his shoul- 
 ders. Here I have recognised that soul of m«rri- 
 ment, Ned Lysaght, and that mighty and masterly 
 man. Lord Yelverton. I have seen them go, just 
 under King William, across towards the Parliament 
 House, and, as they ascended the steps of the colon- 
 
 lire so suitable for calling them forth as a walk from 
 College Green to the Four Courts. 
 
 Suppose, then, gentle reader, you and I, having 
 nothing else to do, making our promenade along 
 the south side of the Green— the hour of the day 
 firms an important ingredient in the interest of our 
 perambulation — at eleven o'clock the stream of 
 lawyers is sweeping onwards towards the Four 
 Courts; about four o'clock the current is returning, 
 and then there is less business in the face; the work 
 oftl^e day is over; the tension of the features is 
 less rigid; chancery precedents and special pleading 
 give place to news, politics and thoughts of dinner; 
 
 THE FOUK COURTS, HUliLIN. 
 
 you, and around the door of the Commercial Build- 
 ings, a herd of broad-bottomed wiseacres, heavy 
 and pursey, like animated sugar hognheads, regu- 
 lating the sales of colonial produce, and tixing the 
 price current of the day. 
 
 How many faces of lawyers, politiciais, and alder- 
 men, have I met in the course of the fo.ty years 
 that I have perambuUitcd these flags. Here have I 
 almo>t trembled under the piercing glance of Black 
 John Fitzgibbon, the stern chancellor, as rapidly 
 and solitarily, even though jostling through the 
 crowd, he passes on towards his residence in Ely 
 place; there is something in his pocket that has the 
 
 nade, hare heard the shoe-blacks and link-boys, 
 and all the idling 'canaille' of Dublin, passing their 
 rough and shrewd, and often witty, comments on 
 the life and character of those eminent men as they 
 entered the National Building, 
 
 There is undoubtedly a very great difference be- 
 tween these men, anJ these times, and what we 
 now know and see. The intellect, to be sure, is the 
 I same, and- perhaps there is no degeneracy either in 
 the times or the people, but certainly there is a 
 \ mighty contrast between the OConnella and the 
 I Shiels, the Pennefathers, the Blackburnes, and the 
 Crumptons of this day, and the forensicmen of oldj 
 
210 
 
 HUSH MISCELLANY. 
 
 there may be more law, but certainly less wit under 
 tlie wig. Well, let us walk on. I remember in- 
 Btend of turning to the right down Parliament 
 street, going, in my youth, straight forward under 
 the Exchange and up Cork hill to the old Four 
 Courts, adjoining Christ Church enthedrul. 1 re- 
 member what an immense crowd of ears, carriages, 
 noddies, and sedan-chairs beset our way as wc 
 struggled on between Latouche'g and Olcadowe's 
 Banks in Castle street — what a labor it was to urge 
 ort our way through Skinner row. I remember 
 looking up to the old cage-work wooden house that 
 stood at the corner of Castle street and Werburgh 
 street, and wondering why, as it nverhving so much, 
 it did not fall down, and then turning down Fish- 
 amble street, and approaching the Four Courts, that 
 then existed, through what properly was denomi- 
 nated Christ Church Yard, but which popularly 
 ■was called 'hell.' 
 
 This was certainly a very profane and unseemly 
 •obriquet to give to a place that adjoined a cathe- 
 dral whose name was Christ Church, and my young 
 mind, when I first entered there, was struck with 
 Its unseemliness. Yes, ond more especially, when 
 over the arched entrance there was pointed out to 
 me the very image of the devil, carved in oak, and 
 not unlike one of those hideous black figures that 
 are still in Thomas street, hung over tobacconists' 
 doors. The locale of hell, and this representation 
 of his Satanic majesty, were famous in those days 
 even beyond the walls of Dublin. I remember well, 
 on returning to my native town, after my first visit 
 to Dublin, being asked by all my playfellows had I 
 been in hell, and had I seen the devil ? Its fame even 
 reached Scotland, and Burns, the poet, in his story 
 of 'Death and Doctor Hornbook,' alludes to it when 
 he says — 
 
 'But this llml I am pian to tell, 
 Which Utvly on a uight belel, 
 Isjust as true as the deil'sio hell, 
 Or Dublin city.' 
 
 As hell has not now any local habitation in our 
 city, neither has the devil, but I can assure you, 
 reader, that there are relies preserved of this very 
 statue to this day. Some of it was made into much 
 esteemed snuif-boxes, and 1 am told there is one 
 antiquarian in our city, who possesses the head and 
 horns, and who prizes the relic as the most valuable 
 in his museum. At any rate, hell to mc, in those 
 days, was a most attractive place, and often did 1 
 go thither, for the yard was full of shops, where 
 toys, and fireworks, and kites, and all the play- 
 things that engage the youthful fancy, were exposed 
 for sale. But hell was not only attractive to little 
 boys, but also to bearded men; for here were com- 
 fortable lodgings for single men, and I remember 
 reading in a journal of the day, an advertisement, 
 intimating that there were 'To be let, furnished 
 apartments in Hell. N. B. They arc well suited to 
 a lawyer.' (! !) Here also were sundry taverns and 
 snuggeries, where the counsellor would cosher witli 
 the attorney — where the prebendary and the canon 
 of the cathedral could meet and make merry. Here 
 the old stagers, the seniors of the Currans, the Y'el- 
 vertons, and the Bully Egans I have above alluded 
 to, would enjoy the concomitants of good fellow- 
 ship; there Prime Sergeant Malone, dark Phil Tis- 
 dal, and prior still to them, the noted Sir Toby 
 Butler, cracked their jokes and their marrow-bones, 
 toasted away claret, and tossed repartee, until they 
 died, as other men die and are forgotten. 
 
 The characters of Malon(« and Tisdall are still 
 preserved in Baritariann, and other satirical or 
 serious records of that day. Sir Toby — I question 
 whether he may not have been the propotype, the 
 eidolon of Toby Philpot — has his name and his 
 fame, as an astute negociator, engraven on the 
 treaty of Limerick, and of course he belongs to his- 
 tory; but as a tavern toper I fear he is almost for- 
 gotten. He is eDtombe4 in St. James's church- 
 
 yard, and any one who enters tluit well-peopled 
 cemetery, must observe it as forming the c\(ief orna- 
 ment of that ugly place. Sir Toby's remains lie 
 mouldering and liquifying there, but, in sooth, if 
 ever ashes deserved to be vitrified, and nulted, and 
 cast into a drinking cup, they were those of this 
 old Hibernian lawyer. It is astonishing how these 
 old fellows euuld do business coolly in llio day, who 
 came to it under the effects of the ovcr-nighl's hot de- 
 bauch. Doubtless ii did affect ihem, nnd I recollect 
 some anecdotes of the same Sir Toliy that show the 
 shifts that this old guz/.lir had recourse to. 
 
 Sir Tohy was engaged in un important cause which 
 re(|uircd all his knowledge and legal acumen, (which 
 were not little,) to defend, and the attorney, deeply 
 alive 10 the importance of keeping Sir Toby cool, ab- 
 solutely insisted upon his inking his corporal oaili that 
 ho should not drink any thing until iho cause was de- 
 cided; and, of course, soonir than lose the reisiuinn 
 fee, the afliJnvit was made, hut ke|)t as follows: — The 
 cause camo on — the trial proceeded — the opposite 
 c-Dunsel made a masterly, luniinoui, and anpurently 
 powerful iin]>ression on the jury- Sir Toliy got up, 
 and he was cool — too rool; his counigc wns not up lo 
 the sticking point — his hands trembled — his head was 
 palsied— his tongue faltered — everything indicated 
 feebleness — whereupon he sent to 'mine host' in hell 
 for a bot'lc of port and a roll, when, cxtracling n por- 
 tion of the soft of ihe roll, and tilling up the hollow 
 with Iho liquor, lie uetuiilly eat the bottle of wine, and 
 recovering his wonted power and injcnuiiy, he over 
 threw the adversary's argument, and won the cause 
 Reader, as 1 iim a rambler by profession, allow me, 
 while 1 have a hold of Sir Toby, and as you may never 
 hear of him again, to recount another anecdote of him, 
 which proves that ho was as well an honest as 
 
 'A lliirsty old soul. 
 As e'er crocked a bottle or fathomed a bowl. 
 
 Engaged in a cause where the counsel opposed to 
 him appeared to carry both the feelings and opinion of 
 the jury, he stood up and said, 'Gentleman of the jury, 
 the cause of our antagonist, though plausible, is bad, 
 if there bo truth in the old saying that 'good wine needs 
 no bush, nor a good cause no bribery-' Here, gentle- 
 men of the jury, is what was put into my hand this 
 morning, holding out a purse of gold. 'It was given 
 in the hope that it would have bribed me into a lute- 
 warm advocacy of my client's cause. But, gentlemen, 
 here I ihrowdown Aehan's wedge — here I cast at your 
 feet the accursed tliinL-.' And so he went on ably to 
 state his case and defend his cause, and no doubt bui 
 the exhibition of the purse had as much weight as the 
 force ol his argument, in inducing the jury to give a 
 veidiet in his favor. 
 
 The attorneys of the old Four Courts, and who 
 passed through this palpable hell to gain access to its 
 darker purlieus, were as distinct as the lawyers of the 
 day from those of modern times. I remember, when 
 a youth, being brought into the oflit'c of one of the 
 most eminent in iJublm, who dwelt in that then fash- 
 ionable resort of attorned s, Chancery lane, instead of 
 residing, as now, in some of the squares, as men of ton 
 and elegance, as the rivals of all that is exquisite in 
 taste, virtue, equipage, and horse flesh. Your attorney 
 of that day was, to be sure, equally keen, equally con- 
 seionable in the length and composition of his bill ol 
 costs, but he was a vulgarian — a provincial — a brogue- 
 anier. (Header, pardon the coinage ) Perhaps it may 
 be as well to stick to the tin^-le portrait I have alluded 
 to — my uncle's attorney in Chancery lane; he was not 
 a bad or extra specimen of his race. I remember, 
 when ushered into his hack parlor, which served him 
 for office, dressing-rooin, eating-room, and I believe, 
 sometimes sleeping-rootn. What a dusty, dingy, dark, 
 fo'tid hole it was I 
 
 The man was not out of keeping with his domicile. 
 He looked like a great bloated spider in the centre of 
 bis cobweb. 1 have him before my mind's eye, us he 
 waddled olV his triangular chair to snlutc us; his snuff- 
 stained, cadaverous face overhung by a brown scratch 
 wig that stuck awry on his head, and seemed to have 
 
 grown too small for his cranium, his natural black hai 
 thrusting Itself out over his led ear, and hanging cx- 
 iravagunily from his poll behind; his alidumcn im- 
 mensely protuberant, and as his incxprcssi'iUs scorned 
 the aid of suspend) rs lo keep iheiii up, tiny fell spart 
 from his waistcoat, and leaving a goodly share of not 
 quite clean linen to bo seen, they hung in louse folds 
 aiiout his thighs, and caused the cnnluroy of vhieli 
 they wore composed, to whistle as he Wurldled about 
 tho chamber. His accent was in die lieh, broad 
 brogue of the County of Limerick, and nothing could 
 exceed the familiar, gossiping, llatteriiig fondniKs, with 
 which he complimented my uncle, who was one of bis 
 
 oldest clients. I have reason to reinetnber Tim 
 
 well. The best part of my worthy relative's property 
 passed into his hands, instead of mine, in liquidation 
 oi' his tremendous volume of a bill of costs, which, 
 whether they were taxed in lull, and under the en- 
 couraging presence of his satanie majesty, I do not 
 remember. 
 
 Mr. Kdiior, I have written thus fur of my ramble 
 from Colleae-iireen to the Four Courts, and you see 
 that instead of rambling to it, I have rambled away 
 from it, but what have 1 to say for the present Four 
 Courts more than what every one knows, namely, that 
 the founibiiion stone was laid by the Duke of Rutland, 
 inl78G, that the architect who built it was Mr. Gan- 
 linn, that it was opened for business in the year 1797, 
 that it is. as your wood-cut represents it, a very nobis 
 pile of buililing. forming an oblong rectangle of 440 
 feet to the front of the river, (by the way, what bnsi- 
 iiess have Thames' barges on the Liffey?) that the 
 centre pile is 140 feet Miuarc, that the handsome and 
 towering dome lights the great hall of tho Courts, an 
 object of just admiration, from its chaste and lofty ap- 
 pearance and proportions, and that during term time 
 it is crowded with lawyers and pickpockets, strangers 
 and stragglers, the fleeced and the fleecing, the hope- 
 ful and the hoping, the anxious and the careless, and 
 that, at such a period of bustle, a visitor, as a picture 
 of Dublin benevolently forewarns, 'should look to hia 
 pockets.' Unlike other siruciuics in our city, this 
 building remains true to its destination, and has not 
 proved either too large or too unsuitable, unlike our 
 Parliament House, which is turned into a bank — our 
 Custom House into a Stamp OfHce — our Stamp Ofiice 
 into a haberdasher's store — and our Exchange into 
 nothing. No, our Four Courts, thank the Genius of 
 our Isle, is still in full business, and as long as Erin 
 remains the land of Ire, so long surely will lawyers 
 fatten, and attorneys batten on the quarrelsome and 
 litigious propensities of our people. 
 
 A Qiunqi'aoenarian. 
 
 [ o o N T I N i; a n . I 
 
 'What's kerpin' that girl in the room ■' said 
 widow Sheridan. 'Alley, will you bring your 
 aunt's holy water to her ? My sowl,' she added, 
 when no reply was made, 'but I'll lay my life she's 
 away wid herself!' and she snatched a candle, with 
 which she surveyed the room, and ascertained, to 
 her utter dismay, that Alley was gone. She found 
 the window open, and the bird flown. 
 
 liOud and vehement was the manifestation of 
 grief, noise and confusion which followed this dis- 
 closure; but from none was the clamor of despair 
 and indignation louder than from the aunt. A 
 rapid search commenced about the premises, in the 
 course of which Alley, and a party of horsemen, for 
 it was clear moonlight, were discovered riding up 
 the hill. In an instant the well- watered guns and 
 pistols were in requisition, and a keen pursuit com- ■ 
 menced after the obnoxious party. The widow's 
 friends were, it is true, rather unqualified for a 
 brisk race, many of them being as strongly inclined 
 to retrograde as advance. 
 
 The attempt of rescuing Alley, however, was 
 made, and would have proved successful if Mullin's 
 party had happened to have a much longer stretch 
 
IRISH MISCELLAI^y. 
 
 211 
 
 of country to cross, for their route lay over ditches 
 011(1 rough upliind, covered with swamps and brush- 
 wood. Ill oonscqueneo of this, tlie pursuers gained 
 upon them considerably. So near, indeed, was tlie 
 widow's guard, that when Mullin .was topping a 
 small hill, the former were at the bottom. Among 
 the first in the chase was Paul the Shot, with 
 Bridget over his shoulder, and it will be recollected 
 that, from his late arrival, not only was he less ad- 
 vanced in liquor than any of the rest, but that 
 Bridget herself escaped the fate of the fire-arms on 
 the bed. 
 
 ■Tarcnation !' says Paul, 'thundhre-au'-thump ! 
 but they'll bate us as tliey get on the road before 
 we wing some o' them. Hould — be the shot o' my 
 pouch, if there isn't a bagabone peeping out at us 
 from behind the ditch, as a spy. Here's at you, 
 man alive; tal<c this, whoever you are — (whisli, 
 slap) — well done, Paul the Shot.' 
 
 The object fell off the ditch, and Paul, on whose 
 mind the dread of m arder fell with rapid descent, 
 became instantly paralyzed with horror. 
 
 'The Lord abo%'e forgive me this niglit — my sowl 
 to happiness, but he's peppered, and I'll svving for 
 him — blessed mother o' heaven, what's this ! Evans, 
 go— I'm not able; go, man, and see who it is. 
 Murdlier, sheery ! Oh, Vara, Vara, what will you 
 and Phiddre, that I iniinded for the church, say 
 when you hear that I'm to swing for murdher !' 
 
 And he commenced a howl of the most ludicrous 
 grief imaginable. 
 
 'Paul, .you have done for one, any how; you 
 have shed innocent blood this night, you misfortu- 
 nate man, you ! Who did you aim on the other 
 side o' the hill, that you shot poor Vara !' 
 
 'Vara ! what do you mane ?' said Paul, horror- 
 struck and staggering. 
 
 'Why, your own Vara that happened to be be- 
 hind the ditch, and you settled her.' 
 
 Paul's howl had now risen to a roar, continuous 
 and incessant. 
 
 'Ay, indeed,' added Evans, 'you have shot Vara, 
 your goat, that was grazin' upon the ditch.' 
 
 Paul paused suddenly — 'What,' said he, is it only 
 the gower r' and he ran over in a state of tremor to 
 ascertain the fact. 
 
 He then put his hands to his sides, and danced 
 for five minutes to his own music, which was not 
 a whit less grotesque than his grief. Evan's infor- 
 mation was correct; he actually, for once, had hit 
 the object at which he aimed, and his joy was ex- 
 cessive on discovering that he had not committed 
 murder. 
 
 The shot, however, was probably the means of 
 Alley's escape; for the pause which it occasioned 
 in the pursuit gave MuUii.'s friends time to gain the 
 road, which they had no sooner reached than the 
 speed of their horses was increased in a manner that 
 rendered all fear of being overtaken unnecessary. 
 
 We will now bring our readers to a gentleman's 
 residence, about a mile and a half from widow 
 Sheridan's house; the hour, twelve or one o'clock 
 at night. A thundering rap comes to the hall-door, 
 and in a few minutes a voice calls out — 
 
 'W^hy, thin, might one make bould to ax who 
 gave that delicate little rap ? Sjiake, if you be 
 fat." 
 
 'Is that Paddy ?' 
 
 'Ayeh ! all that's left o' me.' 
 
 'Is the high constable widin, Paddy ?' 
 
 'W'hy, 'tisn't widout you'd have hira to be at this 
 hour o' the night, man alive r I ought to kiiow the 
 cut o' ycr tongue — Is that Frank Neal ?' 
 
 '.So my modher says. Why thin, faix, Paddy, I 
 don't like to be holdin' discoorsc wid you through 
 the door, more in regard to the dhrop o' dhrink I 
 have in my pocket here; and, besides, I want to see 
 Misther Little, for himself s the boy that likes a bit 
 o' sport, as a duck docs a shower.' 
 
 The door was opened with surprising alacrity. 
 
 'What's wrong, Frank ?' 
 
 'The sorra taste at all, but everything right, Pad- 
 dy. liOok into that bottle first, and then tell your 
 masthcr that James Mullin and Ally Sheridan's 
 comin' to hinr as a 'runaway couple.' Start now, 
 your sowl, for he must inspect them on horseback, 
 to bear witness that it's her that's runnin' away wid 
 him, so he must see her before him on the saddle, 
 clean and decent.' 
 
 'I thought Mickle Gartland was to have her.' 
 
 'So did the mother of her, for that matther, 
 Paddy; but she tuck the liberty of differin' a thrifle 
 from them both, the jewel. Take another pull o' 
 this, and bo off for the masthcr, man alive — don't 
 you hear them comin' in full style up the avney^' 
 
 Mr. Little was a young man of highly respectable 
 family, who, in consequence of his frank and good- 
 humored character, was exceedingly popular with 
 the peasantry, although the office which he held 
 was one in which it required great address to retain 
 their confidence and good will. He was, however, 
 a humorist, and frequently contrived to adjust 
 many differences among them in the discharge of 
 his duty. Being remarkable for good sense, and a 
 perception of the genius and humor of the people, 
 he had many opportunities oi compromising the 
 quarrels and enmity of factions, and such transient 
 disputes as originated at fairs, markets, and other 
 places of their rural amusements. 
 
 When he understood the nature of the business 
 on which his interference was solicited — particular- 
 ly the necessity of his presence to witness Alley on 
 horseback Defore Mullin, in order to prevent the 
 danger of a prosecution for abduction, which Mrs. 
 Sheridan, anticipating this event, had threatened- 
 he lost no time in dressing himself — a task which, 
 in this instance, he performed with unusual mirth. 
 When ready to appear, he perceived the cavalcade 
 near the door; nor was his mirth lessened by its 
 singular and original appearance. 
 
 About a score of stout young fellows, mounted 
 upon bare-backed horses of every description, ranged 
 themselves a little behind Mullin and Alley, both 
 of whom advanced, that he might be enabled to 
 identify them, and give, should he be required, an 
 accurate testimony of MuUin's being the party ab- 
 ducted. Mullin himself could scarcely restrain his 
 mirth, on requesting his attention to this grotesque 
 and ludicrous circumstance, although his natural 
 delicacy of feeling prevented him from indulging in 
 any levity that might be offensive to her who made 
 such an unusual departure from decorum for his 
 sake. 
 
 His companions, however, were less scrupulous; 
 their mirth was excessive, for to them it was 'fun' 
 of the first water. Their enjoyment of the 'spree,' 
 however, was no proof of their want of attachment 
 to Mullin, for every man of them had either a 
 scythe, a flail, a pitchfork or a hook tied to a pole, 
 with which they would have defended him to the 
 last drop of their blood. It was truly a providen- 
 tial circumstance that no collision took place be- 
 tween Mrs. Sheridan's party and them, as, in that 
 case, although they considered the matter only as a 
 'spree,' lives would have certainly been lost on both 
 sides. 
 
 'Mr. Little,' said Mullin, 'you can bear witness 
 that I'm clear and clane run away wid — carried off 
 by Alley Sheridan here, agin my own free will and 
 consint — the divil a less it is. Alley, don't you 
 acknowledge that you tuck me away — a young, in- 
 nocent, harmless erathur, as I am — from father, 
 and mother, and friends, to lodge me wid Mr. Little 
 here ':' 
 
 Alley smiled, and, could the change on her cheek 
 have been seen, blushed also. 
 
 'Ilem ! why to be sure I did, and a blessed prize 
 I have got of you, you thief,' she added, in an arch 
 undertone; 'faix, James, I'll pay you for this, one 
 day or other.' 
 
 'Don't be afraid, Mullin,' replied Little; 'I'U bear 
 
 witness to what you suffered by this outrage. The 
 law in this ease is completely evaded. Miss Sheri- 
 dan, let me assist you to dismount. Come in; 
 there arc candles in the parlor, and we'll talk over 
 this matter.' 
 
 'Faix,' said a droll, ill-looking fellow as ever was 
 created, 'I'm a purty delicate boy myself, nate and 
 genteel, and nobody has run away wid me yet; 
 however, we won't despair, as far as beauty goes, 
 any how — who knows what's before me ?' 
 
 'Before you !' replied another, 'it's wind and 
 wather he desarves to be fed upon that wouldn't 
 guess that; 'lisn't drownded you'll be, Tady, as 
 long as two yards of hemp can be got for a shillin'.' 
 
 'Well, boys, see what it is to have the breedin'! 
 Obsarve how polite Misther Little hands her into 
 the parlor, as if he had her on a clane plate — ha, 
 ha, ha !' 
 
 'Boys,' said a politician, 'I wisht the country had 
 more of his kind in it, and there would be plinty of 
 pace and oceans of happiness; not like the rascals 
 that rob and rack-rint us, as if we were slaves, by 
 their agents, an' procthors, an' bumbailies, rappin' 
 an' rivin' the heart's blood out of us, to spind their 
 pleasures in forrin lands, an' thin we can't see their 
 faces, to get an ounce of justice, let us be whipped 
 an' thramped on ever so. My curse upon them ! 
 By this an' by that, for my own part, I'll never 
 spare a prod of a bagnet, nor scruple layin' the 
 weeshy bit of coal an' the thatch together, till we 
 get them to mend their courses, an live on their 
 estates.' 
 
 'Be du husth ! hem — a fine night, Paddy,' said 
 his companion, addressing him cautiouslj^ but ele- 
 vating his voice to the other, in order to put the 
 indiscreet sijeaker on his guard — 'Paddy, how goes 
 it, you spalpeen ? — have you any news from the 
 races ?' 
 
 'Middlin', I thank you, Phil; sorra word, for I 
 wasn't at them. AVhat news from Athnasallagh ?' 
 
 'Never a thing worth talking of; this runaway is 
 the i.ewest news at the present spakin'.' 
 
 'Troth, it's the quare runaway; but I'll tell you 
 a sacret, boys; Mickle Gartland will be on hand for 
 a rescue to-morrow, if Widow Sheridan makes him 
 believe that Alley wint widout her own consint. 
 The masther widin knows Mickle's character to a 
 shavin', an' he's now discoorsin' the two about how 
 they're to put the coping-stone on the business to- 
 morrow.' 
 
 This was true, and Little himself felt consider- 
 able difficulty as to the means of bringing the mat- 
 ter to an amicable issue. He knew it was probable 
 that Gartland, supported by the mother, might be- 
 come troublesome and unmanageable; but he was 
 too well acquainted with the honorable and manly 
 delicacy with which the peasantry act in circum- 
 stances of this nature. When a runaway occurs in 
 Ireland, no motive could induce a young man to 
 wed a girl who had voluntarily 'gone off' with an- 
 other. Her virtue must not only he free from every 
 stain, but her conduct from the imputation of any 
 act which would seem by its indiscretion to place 
 her in a questionable situation; otherwise Paddy, 
 with all his violence and outrage, would scorn her 
 with the most indignant loftiness of spirit. 
 
 When Little conducted Alley and Mullin, to- 
 gether with their most confidential friends into the 
 parlor, he addressed them as follows — 
 
 'I protest, Mullin, your conduct has staggered 
 me not a little this night. Why, man, a thief might 
 as well take refuge with a magistrate, or a debtor 
 with a bailiff who carries a writ against him, as you 
 to run oft' with your neighbor's daughter, and 
 march, as I believe you were glad to do, in double- 
 quick time, to lodge her with the high constable. 
 Xot a man on the face of the earth, but an Irishman 
 would do it. How will you manage ■' 
 
 'How will yourself manage, sir ?' replied Mullin; 
 'you must tight the battle out for us, now that you 
 
212 
 
 IIUSU MISCELLANY. 
 
 tuck it in hand — not that wc mane to be idle our- ] 
 selves, plttso goodness, if it goes to that; but as for 
 carrying her off, sure I have yourself to prove that 
 she kidnapped nic clane to your own house.' 
 
 •True; I forgot that. 'Well, I believe the best 
 plan is to keep you both for the night — Alley with 
 Mrs. Little, and you with the butler — and in the 
 morning to send for the priest. Alley's mother and 
 
 Sir \Villiara li , your landlord; we'll then try 
 
 what can be done to arrange matters to the satisfac- 
 tion of all parties. If Uartland and his friends 
 come, we'll have a scene, however, and not a very 
 pleasant one, 1 fear.' 
 
 •In regard of Uartland, Misther Little, I don't 
 care tlirec sthraws for what he can do; I have a 
 crow to pluck wid him as it is; if you can smooth 
 the mother, that's all I want. My life, however, 
 whatever happens, must be taken before I part wid 
 Alley, thot I swear, b — ' 
 
 'Hold, Mullin, no swearing before the lady, sir,' 
 replied Little, on seeing the young fellow's eyes 
 beginning to glance with that fiery and headstrong 
 determination which so often produces, among per- 
 sons of his class,such destructive consequences; 'leave 
 the matter to me,' he continued, 'and be calm, 
 otherwise I neither can nor will promise to interest 
 myself ii\ the business, precisely as I intend to do.' 
 
 He then ordered MuUin's companions to go 
 peaceably home, and after committing Alley, whose 
 diffidence kept her silent, to the care of Mrs. Little, 
 who had risen, and Mullin to that of the butler, he 
 retired to rest. 
 
 Next morning Mr. Little wrote to Sir 'William 
 
 R and the parish priest, and was answered by 
 
 the appearance of these gentlemen in person. They 
 entertained a just apprehension that, serious dis- 
 turbance between the friends of Oartland, Mullin, 
 and Alley herself, would Tcry probably result from 
 the elopement, particularly at the ensuing fair, as 
 the two rivals and their friends, as was already 
 known, had threatened to put the matter to a trial 
 of strength. They were, therefore, too well ac- 
 quainted with the habits of the people not to know 
 that if a faction fight had once commenced between 
 them, it might be kept up in fairs and markets for 
 centuries to come. 
 
 Soon after the arrival of the gentlemen, Alley's 
 mother, with her son Owen, and the aunt, who 
 carried a bundle of Alley's clothes tinder her arm, 
 came, together with r dozen of their relatives, and 
 immediately after them, Gartland, with his father, 
 three brothers, and half a dozen able-bodied cousins 
 of every degree. Nor was Mullin left unsupported 
 for the coming struggle, having been early that 
 morning reinforced by twelve or fourteen of those 
 who attended him on the preceding night, together 
 with his father and two brothers. 
 
 Having been all arranged in the hall, the gentle- 
 men proceeded to reconcile them. In ihe mean- 
 time a large crowd was assembled on the lawn, anx- 
 ious to know the result, or to take separate inter- 
 ests, should there be a fight. 
 
 'My good woman,' said Sir Willism, addressing 
 Mrs. Sheridan, will you tell us candidly the cause of 
 this unusual commotion among the people ? I ask 
 yon for an explanation, because I understand the con- 
 duct of your daughter bos in some degree occasioned 
 it.' 
 
 Alley blushed deeply at this uointcniional allusion; 
 nor did her embarrassment escape observation, par- I 
 ticnlarly that of Mullin and her aunt. The natural 
 choler of the old woman overcame her, and she stepped 
 forward before Mrs. Sheridan had time lo reply. 
 
 ' It's a lie, Sir William; it's a big lie, my lardship; 
 dhamno sheery wo'um, but it is, an but — ' 
 
 ''Whisht, you onld thief,' said Paul, plucking her 
 softly by the gown; 'by the shot o' my pouch, you'll 
 be thransported for collin' Sir William a liar, an' him 
 a g^rand juryman o' the nation.' 
 
 'PUse your worship. Sir AVilliam,' said Mullin, 
 
 stepping forward in a very determined manner, 'as a 
 ginlleman, sir, you mit,'ht have bo^^iin with blaming 
 roe instid of the girl, iiud I say, without caring who 
 says (o the contrary, that she did not occasion this 
 mclioD of |)eople tint's about the place; therefore, 
 begin agin, if you plase, and place the hlunic, if there 
 be any, on llicni that dc^arve it most.' 
 
 Durini; this interruption, Alley's aunt, who was in 
 a state of great terror, in coiije(|ui'neo of Puul's hint 
 about giving Sir William the lie, now came forward lo 
 explain, which she did by ducking np and down with 
 the regularity of machinery, and, in her own way, en- 
 deavoring to make an excuse for what she had said of 
 him. 
 
 'Arrnh, Sir AVilliam, ahacur, as I'm alive, sir, what 
 I said about the lie, your reverence, was only to fiive 
 you the denial, avourneen, an that I did for Alley's 
 sake, flat as a griddle, ycr honor ! Tfou see. Sir Wil- 
 liam, wid reverence be it spoken, bad cess to the word 
 of ihruth, good, bad, or indifferent was in it. No, 
 faix, I'd as soon fly in the air, as to say you'd tell any 
 tliinj; barrlu' the oufi an ins of the whole noration. A 
 gnmd juryman of tlie nution ! Oh, blessed stars ! 
 didn't I come well over it V 
 
 All this while Mrs. Sheridan had the comer of her 
 apron to her eyes, while she glanced with deep re- 
 sentment at Mullin and her daughter, as the cause of 
 what she considered so irremediable an allliction. Up 
 to this moment she had not an opportunity of speak- 
 ing, but now she availed herself of the first opening to 
 detail her grievances. 
 
 'Ogh, an it's thruc for you, Sir William, that brin- 
 oge standing beside her tuck her thrum me without 
 rhyme or rason in life, and he not a mnti li for the likes 
 of her within lifieen score of guineas, sir, plase your 
 honor. And if there's law or justice to be had, I'll 
 bring him over the coals, your honor, for the same 
 thiufj, throth will I, Juines Mullin ! You're there to 
 the fore, and I'll make it a black business to you, the 
 longest day you live, for you're noihin' else, plase 
 your honor, than a sconce, that wants, by manes o' 
 that greenhorn of a girl, to scheme me out of her penny 
 o' money, that I had to fortune her off in credit and 
 dacency.' 
 
 'An' do you presume for to call a son of mine a 
 sconce, Mrs. Sheridan V replied old Mullin, 'since we 
 must 'raisthress' you — by the same token that you're 
 the first of your family that ever was 'misthressed.' A 
 sconce, ma'am ! an' this to the MuUins of Edinnasam- 
 blagh ! Saints above, listen to what old Andy Lina- 
 han's daughter says, forgettin' that your mother sat 
 over your father's coffin on the roadside, to ax chanty 
 for his berriii', when myself an' my forefathers had full 
 and plenty o' the world. A schemer! from the woman 
 that tuck in your pipesnckin' dhrin^ of a husband, 
 who was married upon you in a mistake of his own, 
 but the sorra a taste of yours. Are you answered 
 now, ma'am ? Ax the JIagrnths of Tullymuddin, 
 an' they'll give you the outs an' ins of tlie whole de- 
 sate.' 
 
 'I'm not ashamed of my family, Misther Mullin,' re- 
 plied widow Sheridan, sailing over to him, with a hand 
 on each side; 'no, the sorra a taste. If we wor poor, 
 that's the worst that can be said of us. We riz by 
 our hard work an' honesty, Misther Mullin, an' that's 
 more Dor can be said of yon, Misther Mullin ! Do 
 you remimbcr your grandfather, that was body-sarvant 
 to ould Squore Blackberry many a year before you 
 wor bom, how he came lo be the first great man o' the 
 family, Misther Mullin 7 Eh 7 does that jog your 
 memory ? Arrah, why thin, man there never was one 
 belongin' to me ever wore plush breeches an' a white 
 coat wid green binding', Misther Mullin I Nor we 
 didn't rise in the world by makin' ourselves dirty 
 blacklegs for a drunken square ! Maybe your an- 
 swered now, Misther Mullin I Poor, indeed I Arrah ! 
 10 the old diowol I pitch you, man alive !' 
 
 'Come, come,' said Father O'Flaherty, 'ihero must 
 be no recrimination here; neither Sir William, nor 
 Mr. Little, nor myself, wdl put up with it. Jem Mul- 
 lin, you're a boy of sense, and will give up the girl to 
 bar mother, when you sec she's against yon, and bent 
 
 on Gartland here; so let them be married, in the nam 
 of God, and everything end piacciibly. Garilnnd. are 
 you willing to take the girl, if Jiulhn gives her up?' 
 
 'What say you to that, Gartland ?' inquired Sir 
 Williiim. 
 
 'I'la^c your honor, if Jim Mullin will dear her, sir, 
 on the nithar, I'll take her, hut not without it.' 
 
 iMuilin's eyes shot lire as he rushed at his livnl. 
 
 'Mime villain !' he exclaimed, 'to think that the girl 
 would so far forget herself as to make such a thing 
 necessary at all ! Let me go, I say; as sure as he's 
 alive, I'll make hawk's mate of him for that word. 
 Don't hould me, Mr. Little. Well, I don't care about 
 you or Sir William, or fifty priests, the man that spakcs 
 a word against that girl's discration will rue it to the 
 core. Wfll, well! wait ; I'll meet you in ihc fair for 
 this Gartland; never mind, my good fellow, you'll pay 
 for it.' 
 
 During this paroxysm the old aunt clapped him lust- 
 ily on the back, excluiming — 
 
 ' Ogh ! but the lilood's in you, a boachal, ao' bnt it'a 
 kind family for you to show the 'spree!' The dirty 
 spalpeen ! he deserves it, for only the mane dhrop's in 
 him, he wouldn't even a bad thought to the daccnt col- 
 leer — the purse proud beggarman ! faix, you'll get it, 
 you thief; there's a cudgel steeped for you.' 
 
 The presence of those in the room, however, pre- 
 vented a quarrel, and Little, who had great influence 
 over Mullin, paeiticd him. 
 
 ' Jim,' said the father, • if you take my advice, you'll 
 wash your hands clane out o' the family ; the girl's a 
 good, an honest, and a modest girl — but you may get 
 a good wife ; so throw the ould woman's dirty guineas 
 to her, and give up the girl.' 
 
 ' "ris a good advice,' said the priest, ' and you 
 won't have the worst luck for obeying him ; besides, 
 I, that am your priest and confessor, lay it upon 
 you.' 
 
 ' Dhamno sheery be from the morsel itself,' exclaim- 
 ed the aunt, clapping him once more upon the back, 
 ' hould fast yer sowl ; show the blood o' Ihe Mullins, 
 Jem agra ; if you part with her, you'll never rue it bnt 
 wanst, and that'll bo all your life ; look at her, 'lis as 
 white as a sheet she is, for fraid you'd show the 
 garran bane, and let yourself be bullied out of her. 
 Hould fast, a boubhal ; hold fast, I say !' 
 
 ' Is that old woman deranged V asked Sir William; 
 ' she appears to be mad — quite unsettled.' 
 
 ' Mad, inagh ! The heavens be your bed, Sir Wil- 
 liam, darling; stand the colleen's friend, your Lird- 
 ship. Wurrah, man alive ! — Vischount jewel,I mane 
 — won't you show fair play an' perplexity, anyhow. 
 How would yon like, if you war a colleen — an' it's you 
 tliat uJ be the darlin' an' beamy all out, barring the 
 beard and whishkers — fair play is all we want, jour 
 ladyship.' 
 
 In spite of the bad feeling which pervaded the hos- 
 tile parties, the old woman's oratory produced very 
 general mirth, whiih^pcrhaps, contributed more than 
 anything else to assuage in some degree the passions 
 by which ihey were agitated. 
 
 'As to the fortune,' replied Mullin to his father and 
 the priest, ' to show yees all that it makes no msxim 
 with me, I tell you, Mrs. Sheridan, that I'd not dirty 
 my fingers wid a penny of it. You thought it was that 
 I was afther — you see your mistake, ma'am ; but as for 
 the girl, I'll never give her up while I've life" 
 
 ' By the shot o' my pouch,' said Paul, ' the young 
 man's beside himsilf, clane and clear, to go for to 
 throw away the fortune, and keep the girl.' 
 
 ' An' it's myself,' replied Mrs. Sheridan, ' will spind 
 five pounds of it, or I'll thranspon you out of the coun- 
 thry for taking her away from me ; yon know it's agin 
 the law, and if I should hire six counsellors, I'll make 
 you suft'er — ay will I, give one half ginney to Counsel- 
 lor O'Connell, and another to Counsellor Shales, 
 to make great speeches and norations, that 'ill send 
 you over. Yon common thief, to take your disadvan- 
 togc of a helpless, unprotected widdy ; but it's asy 
 known I'm a lone woman, or I wouldn't be put upon 
 the way I am,' and she burst into a clamorous grief 
 and abuse. 
 
IRISB MISCELLANY. 
 
 213 
 
 ' Mrs. Sheridan,' said Mr. Little, with a lurliing 
 smile beneath the j^ravity he assumed, ' I must set you 
 right upon the matter of law. Mullin did not atoul 
 your daughter ; on the contrary, ma'am, he took her 
 away in the most legal manner possilile, strictly accord- 
 ing to form, and if you are determined on going to law, 
 I must bear witness that she — hem — tliat your daugh- 
 ter rode before hiiu on the horse, and in that ease, you 
 know, and everybody knows, the law acquits him — 
 — hem !' 
 
 This was overwhelming intelligence to the widow, 
 for the fact is, that ihe peasantry thought, and we be- 
 lieve think still, that in cases of ' runaways,' if the fe- 
 male is placed foremost on the horse, the law is com- 
 pletely evaded, inasmuch as it appears that the act of 
 abduction is perpetrated by her, and not by the wooer. 
 
 ' Saints above ! what's this I hear 1 Oh, 'tis ruined I 
 am — I know it does, plase yer honor; but he must give 
 her up, or get the three hundher, and lay down on the 
 nail guinea for guinea wid me, or I'll rise thecounthry 
 and take her out of his heart's blood.' 
 
 ' Mullin,' said Sir William, 'you must surrender the 
 girl, sir ; [ insist upon it, if her mother continues to 
 claim her.' 
 
 ' I'd be sorry to go agin you. Sir William, but I 
 never will, an' them that take's her 'ill take her through 
 my body.' 
 
 ' Och, och, my darlin' that you war,' exclaimed the 
 aunt, ' hould to that, Jim, agra ! we'll conjecthur over 
 thim at last.' 
 
 ' Mrs. Sheridan,' said the priest, ' I have used every- 
 thing in reason to make him give her up ; but I tell ye 
 that yer too stitf-necked yourself, ma'am, and it does 
 not become you to make such a rout about it ; I say 
 he's good enough for your daughter, not making little 
 of the colleen. You forget yourself, ma'am ; his 
 brother's a priest, ma'am, an' it sits very poorly upon 
 you to refuse your child to the brother of a priest.' 
 
 ' I think so too,' added Sir William ; 'Mullin is of a 
 decent honest family, Mrs. Sheridan, and although 
 not so wealthy as Ganland, yet he is sufficiently inde- 
 pendent to maintain your daughter in comfort. Money 
 cannot give your daughter happiness with a husband 
 she cannot love. Gartland, are you willing to give up 
 the girlV he added, addressing Gartland. 
 
 ' By no manes, yer honor, if it was only to tache 
 him that his bouncin' and bully raggin' won't do wid 
 me, sir, plase yer honor. I'll show him, since he's put 
 me to it, that I am as good a man as he is, and can 
 gather as good a faction.' 
 
 ' Plase yer honor, Mr. Little,' observed Paal the 
 Shot, apart to Little, ' I think that it's pride prevints 
 Gartland, more nor anything else, from denouncin' 
 her, lest the counthry might think that it came from 
 fear of Mullin, who's the very mischief entirely wid the 
 cudgel, and so is his faction. In my opinion, that's 
 the visitation o' the whole thing. If 
 you could but take Mullin and him on 
 the soft side, you might settle it, and 
 as for Father Flaherty, he'll soon 
 knock the mettle out o' the ould wo- 
 man.' 
 
 Little saw the truth of this remark 
 and determined to act accordingly 
 
 ' We have,' said he, ' very impro 
 perly omitted appealing to Miss Allej 
 herself, on a matter where she is pnnti 
 p Jly concerned ; Gartland I know to 
 be a young fellow of honor and spirit 
 who I am sure, if he hears his refisal 
 from her own lips just now before all 
 present, will not be mean enough to 
 hold out after being refused; he's afraid 
 of no man or of no parly of men but 
 I know he will act with spirit. Now 
 Miss Sheridan, on which of these _ 
 young men are your affections 6\td i 
 Speak candidly.' 
 
 ' Plase yer honor,' she modestly re 
 plied, 'I have no ill-will whatsomeier 
 to Mickle Gartland, but I can't like him 
 and he's not come to this day widout 
 
 hcarin' it from my lips ; I never desaved him nor kept 
 back the truth. James Mullin — hem — I — I — ' The 
 timid girl could proceed no farther, but after giving a 
 tender look at Mullin, she burst into tears, and in the 
 unconscious impulse of love and innocence, laid her 
 head on his shoulder, and sob'ied aloud. 
 
 Sir William locked in every direction of the room, 
 and the priest's nasal horn resounded a somewhat 
 melancholy note. The anut went over to the nciee, 
 and taking her in her arms, kissed her tenderly, wiped 
 her eyes wiili her apron, then shook her head at Mrs. 
 Sheridan, exclaiming — 
 
 ' Dher manum, woman, but you're breaking the col- 
 leen's heart, so ye arc.' 
 
 ' For my own part,' said Gartland, ' I am satisfied 
 now, and would have been so long ago, only for the 
 mother and MuUin's brow-bating. Jim, before all 
 present, I give her up — at the same time, it's neither 
 from fear nor favor of you — I'm ready to meet you at 
 any day, me and mine, agin you and yours — but as for 
 Alley, keep her, and God bless her, for she's the moral 
 of a good girl.' 
 
 Mullin stepped over and grasped his hand, ' Mickle,' 
 said he, ' you war never a bad man, and I'm ready an' 
 willin' to bear witness that you'd do nothing for fear 
 of the best sojer that ever stepped in black leatlier,and 
 while my name's Mullin, I'll never forget this behavior, 
 and it'll be your own fault if we have a cool word agin.' 
 
 A brisk crack of the fingers from the aunt, accom- 
 panied by a triumphant display of that old accompani- 
 ment of eloquence, the supplosio pedis, sounded through 
 the room, as she addressed Mrs. Sheridan : — 
 
 ' Ha, maybe yc'U be more worser nor sthrangers — 
 nor black sthrangers we may say — maybe you'll show 
 some bowels for your own flesh and blood — and if you 
 do, sure it's only time tor you to think of it, any way.' 
 
 ' Never,' replied Mrs. Sheridan, ' barring he can lay 
 down guinea for guinea wid me.' 
 
 'Now, Mrs. Sheridan,' said the priest, 'I waited 
 patiently to thry you, ma'am, to give you fair play — 
 but, afther all, you're anything but a sensible woman, 
 that would look far before her. You refuse your col- 
 leen, ma'am, to Jim Mullin, and his brother a priest — 
 his only brother too — ma'am. Now, did you ever take 
 it into your head to think or ask yourself whose chil- 
 dhren will come in for his property when he dies V 
 
 Mrs. Sheridan started at this new thought — 'Eh!' 
 the priest continued, ' have I you now, ma'am ? Upon 
 my credit and reputation, only for the daughter's 
 sake of you, I'd be the man myself that would prevint 
 Jim Mullin from marrying into your family.' 
 
 This was an argument which the griping disposition 
 of the widow could not withstand. 
 
 ' Mrs. Sheridan,' said Sir. William, ' I see you 
 would have stood in your daughter's light by 
 refusing her to Jim Mullin, that is evident.' 
 
 ' But Mrs. Sheridan has too much good sense,' ob- 
 served Mr. Little, ' to do so any longer — of course. Fa- 
 ther MuUin's wealth will descend to his brother's chil- 
 dren, Mrs. Sheridan.' 
 
 ' Well, well, it's not in regard o' that sure,' said the 
 widow, ' but as the girl is set upon him herself, that I 
 do it now. You're standin' there to the fore, Jim Mul- 
 lin, and I never denied that you were a clane, daceiit 
 boy, and a good father's son, and who could blame me 
 for wisbin' to see my daughther settled to the best dia- 
 hadvantage 7 She's my flesh and blood — and blood, 
 yees all know, is thicker nor wather, any way. So, aa 
 it's all come to this, childher, may the blessin' o' the 
 Almighty light down upon both, I pray.' 
 
 ' Sorra a heartier, sure, and that's the way it ought 
 to ind, anyhow,' said Paul ; ' by the shot o' my pouch, 
 if there's a sheep or a goat in the parish, yees must 
 have wild fowl at the weddin', wid a blessin', and the 
 assistance o' my Bridget. If I was for Mickle Gart- 
 land, sure no one could blamo me either, and he my 
 own fourth cousin, by the side o' the Suil-cam family 
 — ha, ha, ha.' 
 
 During all this time, young Owen stood with his 
 shoulders against the wall, one leg carelessly thrown 
 across the other, utterly indiff'erent to everything that 
 passed. He sucked his dudeen with as much compo- 
 sure as if he leant against the jamb in his own mother's 
 house. When matters were arranged, he turned round 
 and inquired from Paul the Shot — 
 
 'Paul, which o' them — Cpuff) — which is to have her V 
 
 Paul looked at him with astonishment, and whis- 
 pered, 'both, man alive. She's to be married to Mul- 
 lin to-morrow, and to Gartland the day afther.' 
 
 He shook his head incredulously. ' Aha, Paul,' he 
 he returned, ' that's goin' it an' me. However, I'll 
 find out from Alley herself.' 
 
 Things having thus. been arranged to the satisfaction 
 of all parties, nothing remains now to be said, but that 
 they had a genuine Irish weddin, to which all the per- 
 sonages mentioned in this sketch were invited, and 
 that Mullin and Alley, who, when thirteen years mar- 
 ried, had, in defiance Of Matlhus, thirteen children, and 
 were happy. 
 
 BECTIVE ABBEY, CO. MEATH. 
 
 BECTIVE ABBEY. 
 
 The picturesque ruins of Bective Abbey are situated 
 on a bank overhanging the Boyne, about three miles 
 east of Tuam, county of Meath, and in the vicinity of 
 Balsoon, the residence of the celebrated Primate Usher. 
 They are still very extensive, comprising some of the 
 most beautiful specimens of Gothic monastic architec- 
 ture to be found in Ireland. The castellated portions 
 of the ruins was erected, according to tradition, by 
 Meaghlin, King of Meath, in 1014,and it is further saib 
 that he sent to Greece for architects to assist in its con- 
 struction. The Abbey was erected for the order of Cis- 
 tercian monks, the abbot being of the 
 - mitred class, and, as such, privileged to 
 
 ^^ sit as a Lord in ParUament ; the pos- 
 
 ^ ^ ^-^^ sessions of bis hoise were held ' in ca- 
 
 pite' from the Crown — that is, without 
 tl e mtervention of any intermediate 
 lo d The Abbey was one of that class 
 h ch came to the Crown before the 
 neral suppression of monsisteries, and 
 1 oin mcnts, jewels, &c., were there- 
 fore absorbed into the royal treasury. 
 In 1195, the body of Hugh de Lacy, 
 the great Palatine of Meath, was buried 
 w h nuch solemuity within the walls 
 ot Bt ive, but his head was carried to 
 IJ iblin, and entombed in the Abbey of 
 bt Thomas. In the year l.'j.il, William 
 Wil I a Cistercian monk of ilie abbey, 
 ^^^ was promoted lo the See of Meath. In 
 the rei„n of Queen Elizabeth ho was de- 
 I riVLd for preacliing against the hook of 
 C nmon Prayer and the Queen's su- 
 pri,macy; was thrown into prison; after- 
 warJs banished ; died inSpain in 1577. 
 B'ctive gave the title of Earl to the 
 family of Taylour. 
 
214 
 
 IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 HALF AN HOUR WITH A FIOHTI NC-M AN. 
 Some two montlis at;o, I was walking up ami ilown 
 the Limu Street »liition at Liverpool, in eonipatijr wiih 
 a friend, awaiting the tieparturo of thu ovcniiiK mail, 
 bv which wo were roturninij home. As it wanted but 
 ft few minutes to the time, we selected a comparimeiil 
 in a second class carriage ; but before wo could enter, 
 we had to wait some little time to allow of the egress 
 df two or three ol the porters, who were deep in con- 
 versation with two passengen) already seated, while 
 ■undry other porters were clustered round the car- 
 riage-door, peeping in with looks of admiring curio>iiy. 
 Surely, thought I, we are to have distinguished fel- 
 low-passengers. Who can they be » Arc they the 
 Siamese ambassadors > — who were then daily expected. 
 There were to have been two of them, one from each 
 of the kings. No ; it is second class ; it cannot possi- 
 bly be they. Could it be Spurgeou and one of hit 
 deacons • doing it clKap >' No ; hardly likely. So 
 ■wo entered the carriage with doubt and curiosity. 
 
 At the further end of the carriage, with his back to 
 the engine, sat a nian,whose closely clipped hair, bullet 
 head, and broken nose, plainly told mo what his pro- 
 fession was. Facing mc, on the opposite side, sat his 
 eompanion, a person of much prepossessing appear- 
 ance and manners. A glance convinced me that they 
 were both prize-lighters. 
 
 To say that the first mentioned individual's head was 
 ballet shaped, is very much to malign tha! projectile; 
 for surely no piece of metal shaped as that head was 
 could, by any possibility, be got down a gun-barrel ; 
 or even supposing it to be once down, could any 
 known means ever get it up again. No geometrical 
 term with which I am acquainted could possibly con- 
 Toy any idea of that head. It was not a dec;ihedron, 
 and i' was not a duodecahedron ; and its only claim to 
 the title of an ' oblate sphcriod ' would arise from the 
 fact ol its being Uattcned at the pole. 
 My friend glanced at me, and I at him. 
 They were literally and figuratively ' ngly custo- 
 mers,' and I secretly hoped that they would no; at- 
 tempt to 'improve the shining hour' by practising 
 their art upon us. However, I soon found that there 
 was no cause for alarm on this head, for the 'spheriod' 
 was very soon in a slumbering, passive state ; and as 
 I am naturally rather partial to cUciling information 
 from peculiar characters, such as one does not meet 
 with in the daily walks of life, I very soon got into 
 conversation with my neighbor, whom,despite his pro- 
 fession, I found to be a very polite, I had almost said 
 gentlemanlike man. lie spoke in that peculiar tone of 
 assumption common to most Londoners, and I soon 
 
 learned that his name was ; say Jones ; that he 
 
 was a prize-lighter; that he had fought seven prize 
 battles, and had never yet been beaten ; that he held 
 himself liable to be challenged by any man alive, no 
 matter who, or what the amount of the stakes ; that at 
 that moment he was acting as ' trainer,' or prof'sssional 
 tutor, to his companion ' George," as he called him ; 
 that they were just returning from ' George's ' first 
 prize-fight, which had come off" three days before in 
 the neighboHiood of Liverpool ; that his adversary's 
 title to the honors of victory was open to dispute, there 
 being reason to suspect foul play and bribery, and that 
 it had therefore been decided that the battle should bo 
 fought over again. 
 
 All this information led on, of course, to other con- 
 versation, and, on my making some remarks as to 
 ' George's ' present personal appearance, he assured me 
 that he was very decent-looking now, compared -vith 
 what he had been two days previously ; for then his 
 head was ju<t double its present size, and that he had 
 brought it down to its present dimensions by the copi- 
 ous extenjal application of castor oil, and that in a few 
 days' time he would look ([uite respectable. 
 
 I thought to myaclf that his ideas of respectability 
 must certiinly differ very much from my own ; for, a-, 
 I glanced at the physiognomy in question, I was much 
 inclined to doubt whether all the castor oil in creation, 
 let i! he ever so ' cold drawn,' could possibly impn-ss 
 the stamp of respectability upon it But as 1 consid- 
 ered that tastes differ, and that it was not for me to 
 
 set up my own as a standard, I did not dispute his 
 statement, but led him on to luribrr conversation. 
 
 lie informed ine that in early life he had been a cart- \ 
 er or drayman in London, and t'lat be had never but 
 once came in collision with the municipal authorities, 
 and that occurred »lien he was pursuiui; the compara- 
 tively peaceful calling before named. It appears that 
 he had a dilliouliy, as brother Jonathan w.nild expre.is 
 It, with a turnpike man, relative to an alleged act of 
 cxtorri'in on the part of ihe latter. 
 
 In writing the biography of all great men, it is cus- 
 to iinry to relate anecdoie< of tticir early lilV, to servo 
 n> a foreshadiiwing of what their fulure de\elopincnts 
 were expected to be. So in the case in (|uesiioii, the 
 latent fire of that genius which in after years was to 
 shine forth so brilliantly. Hashed out gloriously on this 
 occasion. In his own expressive language, "he jump- 
 ed oil' his can, squared at the man, and gave him one 
 for his knob.' 
 
 lie was about to resume his seat, with the pleasing 
 consciousness of having resisted oppression, and done 
 his duty like an Englishman, when ho was suddenly 
 seized by two myrmidons of the law, was brought up 
 on a charge of assault ami battery, for which he got 
 certain days in durance vile, and tlieu returned to the 
 bosom of that society he was afterwards so much to 
 adorn — a wiser and a sadder man. 
 
 This appears to have been the turning point in liis^ 
 life; distiusted with commercial pursuits, for which be 
 felt that ho was in no way adapted, he entered into his 
 present profession, which he appeared to have followed 
 with that success which invariably attends perseverance 
 and assiduity. 
 
 His conversation and remarks being of a somewhat 
 desultory nature, I found great difficulty in getting at 
 anything like a consecutive account of his life ; but 
 from his various remarks, I gathered that he had 
 worked very hard at his profession. 
 
 His first introduction to his companion, George, 
 struck mo as having some claims to the credit of ori- 
 ginality, to say the very least of it. He said that 
 George was brought to his house by a mutual friend, 
 with a request th«t he (Jones) would take him in hand. 
 ' I rather liked his looks, so I up with my fist and hit 
 him a blow on his nose; upon this, George began ' to 
 show fight ' in good style ; so,seeing him to be 'gamcy,' 
 I undertook to train him, and make the best I could of 
 him.' 
 
 On my making some remarks about George, and 
 what his future prospects were, he replied that he could 
 hardly make up his mind as to how he would be likely 
 to turn out. Tapping his own forehead, he remarked 
 that ' George was rather soft there ' — ' that he had no 
 head,' and that a lighling-man should have a 'good 
 head,' so as to know wiicn to take a ' libcrly ' — that the 
 success of a fight often depended as much upon the 
 head as the ' fists ;' and that, though George was the 
 Igameyist' fellow going, he was fearful that want of 
 head, and fondness for drink, would prevent his rising 
 to the dazzling height attained by some others of his 
 profession. 
 
 For himself, he furnished a strong argument in favor 
 of teetotalisin, by saying that, although he kept a pub- 
 lic house in London, he never drank anything when 
 going tlnough the fatiguing operation of training, 
 and very little upon any other occasion, except now 
 and then when on an OfT of the present kind, and he 
 instanced it as a proof of the great goodness of their 
 Liverpool friends, that ho had been kept in n state of 
 partial inebriation for nearly six days without its cost- 
 ing him a penny. 
 
 This was their first visit to Liverpool, and he ex- 
 pressed himself much pleased with the kindness they 
 had received, and likewise with the general urbanity of 
 the police authorities in that town, who had never once 
 molested iheni during an engagement. 
 
 I asked him whether men in th- ir profession over 
 saved money. lie replied that it was quite impossible. 
 When a man had been fortunate, he was made a good 
 deal of by hi:- companions, who kept him in a constant 
 whirl of drunken excitement until his money was all 
 gone, and then he had to get up another fight to make 
 
 more ; while, if he was beaten, the whole of the ex- 
 penses fell upon him, Iwsides the lo>t stakes, and then 
 he got into debt; and he advised me— pareniheiically 
 and in conlideoce — never to make a match lor no low 
 u sum as £2i, a» it could not pcsiibly pay, for the 
 trade expenses alone amounted to over X'lU ; the prin- 
 ciple items of which he eiiiimcrnted, cme of iliein, 1 re- 
 member, consisting of a ' trainer at X3 a week and his 
 keep, lor seven wei k'l at l.usi.' Only fancy letciiig 
 one's self out to bfc hamiiiervd at by a priz -lighler day 
 by day for seven long weeks, for the trainer's ollico 
 consists of a seri s of daily en'ounters with the trainee, 
 so thai he may be in good |iraciiee when ho comes bo- 
 lore the public. 
 
 He intimated to inc, however much I might be fas- 
 cinated by the outward show and flitter o( theirkind of 
 life, it was in reality a very hard one, at least until a 
 man had obtained a ' position ;' and that nothing but 
 the cxcileineut of popular applause, and having a pub- 
 lic reputa'ion to keep nnsullieil, could possibly carry 
 them througli it. 
 
 I have often remuiked, in nil public profcssionSi the 
 great amount of brotherly feeling that pervades the 
 whole body. Sec wiih what generosity and willing- 
 ness authors, actors, and musicians, come forward lo 
 the aid of a needy brother — by benefits at theatres, by 
 public readings, by concerts, and similar means. And 
 the same feeling extends, strange as it may seem, even 
 to the profession in question, as the following instanco 
 will show; and in spite of the horiid and revolting 
 circumstances attending the affair, it yet shines like a 
 streak of sunlight through the awfal moral darkness — 
 a proof to my mind that, let a man debase and brutal- 
 ise himself to the lowest possible ]>oiut, he cannot eradi- 
 cate his manhood ; that now and then it will flash up 
 and reclaim its lost throne, let the reign be ever so 
 short. 
 
 My companion casually inquired whether I was ac- 
 quainted with Ede. I ie])lied that I hud not that 
 pleasure, and, moreover, that I was never at a prize- 
 fight in my life. At first, ho seemed not disposed to 
 believe me ; but on my assuring him that such was 
 really the case, he looked at me more in pity than in 
 anger, but still seemed hardly able to conceive how, in 
 this enlightmed nineteeoih century, any one could 
 possibly have gone so far on life's journey as I had 
 without having at least heard of the hero in ques- 
 tion. He therefore endeavored to recall him to my 
 mind by enumerating some of his more celebrated 
 acts of personal prowess. • You surely must remem- 
 ber Ede, he who killed ' Jack ' Somebody in his last 
 fight.' 
 
 ' Killed his man !' I replied, with horror. 
 
 ' Yes,' ho said, ' it was a bad job, poor fellow,' and 
 then he told me all about how the man received a hit 
 on the jaw after four hours fighting ; how he was car- 
 ried off the field ; how he never spoke a word after 
 the fatal blow ; and how by six next morning ho was 
 dead. 
 
 'But how about his poor wife and children?' 
 said I. 
 
 ' Ah, poor woman !' he replied, ' it was a bad job ; 
 but we all did the best we could for her. We got her 
 up a benefit, and managed to ri.isc about three hundred 
 pounds, which put her into a good public house, and 
 wo all do our best to make it pay. But what,' he 
 added, ' is all that, compared with the loss of such a 
 husband as she had ? For my part, I would not lose 
 my wife for three niillinns of puunds. She is every- 
 thing to me, and I have my old mother to keep, and I 
 have brought up my two little brothers without its 
 costing anybody else a penny ;' and then he went on 
 to sav tha: there was nothing like civility and kind- 
 ness — it cost but little, and he had always found that 
 they made him friends wherever he went. 
 
 Bravo! thought I ; ihcic is a green spot yet lift 
 even in this rough debased heart — one little thread 
 yet remaining to connect it with human nature. — 
 Imagine for a moment that son tending his aged moth- 
 er, a mother to whom, perhaps, he owed no debt for 
 early lessons of love and kindness ; of whom, in the 
 recollections ol his early days, be can recall few pleas- 
 
IRISB MISCELLANY. 
 
 215 
 
 ins memories, few eiuljr admonitions from her lips, 
 which mi^^ht huve stoo.l him in good stead ihrough life 
 as his counsellor and •;uide. 
 
 Even the poor liruulised G-orge, who all this time 
 had heen do/.ing away in a state of battered stupidity 
 — ev«n he had some one who loved him, and whom he 
 loved in rciurn. 
 
 Of Nero it was said, that over his tomb some loving 
 hand was seen each day to drop a flower ; so poor 
 George found it impossible lo keep away from a ttirl in 
 London whom he Kived, and who felt lonely without 
 him, although he had to return to Liverpool in a few 
 days to have another mauling, for his friends were go- 
 ing to get him up another fight for his own peculLa- 
 benefit, to reimburse him for sundry losses sustiiined 
 during his last engagement. 
 
 And so 1 drew near home, and, oa leaving the train, 
 my companion shook me w. irmly by the hand, and ex- 
 p^cs^ed a buiie that when 1 next cumu to London 1 
 would give him a call. 
 
 So he went on his nay, and I on mine, and as I walk- 
 ed I thought, and the more I thought, the more I be- 
 came confused. Wrong seemed to be getting right, 
 and right seemed to have no merit attachable to it. 
 My conscience told mo that I ought to hold that man 
 and his profession in utter and supreme abhorence; but 
 when I thought of the little streaks of sunlight which 
 ever and anon broke tlirough that .dark and heavy 
 cloud, I was fain, though still condemning all fighting 
 on general grounds, to subdue angry feelings, and to 
 take shelter under the Master s lesson, ' that if I was 
 without sin, I might then cast the stone.' And I 
 asked myself a question which I could not answer — 
 why am not I the fighter, and he in my place, wrap- 
 ping himself up in bis pharisaical cloak of spiritual 
 pride, and thanking Heaven that he is not such as 1 ■! 
 Who can answer me that ? No, I do not feel quite 
 comfortable in sitting in judgment on this unfortunate 
 person, as I must consider him to be, without first as- 
 certaining whether the five talents committed to my 
 care, with a clearer knowledge as to their uses, have 
 been made to produce other five also? If it has turn- 
 ed out that I have learned a lesson in charity, my half 
 hour's ride was not in vain. 
 
 OUR ENGLISH VICE-KINCS. 
 
 The first chief governor of the 'English interest' in 
 Ireland was John, Earl of Moreton, (afterwards king 
 John), who was entitled by his father, Henry II., 
 ' Lord of Ireland,' in 1177. Before him various 
 knights of the invaders had commanded their fellows 
 here, under the titles of Lord Wardens, Lord Justi- 
 ces, and Procurators. Prince John retained the 
 title for seventeen years, De Lacy, De Courcy, and 
 other noblemen serving as his deputies. 
 
 In John's reign, Meiler Fitzhenry, a bastard of 
 Henry II., John De Gray, Bishop of Norwich, and 
 Henry De Loundre (the Londoner), Archbishop of 
 Dublin, were the chief governors. 
 
 In the long reign of Henry III., there were twenty- 
 three chief governors of Ireland. On the removal 
 or death of ^one, the Irish Privy Council elected 
 his successor. Maurice Fitzmaurice Fitzgerald, 
 the first native baron so elected, was chosen in 
 1272 — ^just one hundred years after ' the Invasion.' 
 
 Under Edward I., their were eighteen governors, 
 of whom Stephen De Fulburn, a Norman, Bishop 
 of Watcrford, was the most distinguished. In Ed- 
 ward ll.'s reign the lord lieutenancy seems to have 
 first been conferred on the Mortimers, Earls of 
 March, who were descended on the female side from 
 the M'Murroghs ; of this family seven held the of- 
 fce of lord lieutenant at various period.--, from 1317 
 to 1123. 
 
 In 1.328, Roger Outlaw, priorof Kilmainham.was 
 lord justice for Edward III., and his salary was 
 £•500 per annum. In this reign, Lionel, Duke of 
 Clarence, being lord lieutenant, summoned the par- 
 liament at Kilkenny in 1367, which passed the famous 
 anti-Irish statute. It is to be supposed that Ed- 
 ward regretted Clarence's act, as Ormond, Kildare, 
 
 and Desmond, though 'degenerate English,' govern- 
 ed under him in the latter part of his reign. 
 
 The chief governors under Kiehard II. were the 
 Mortimers, the favorite De Vcre, and the royal 
 Dukes Gloucester and Surrey. Kiehard, in his folly, 
 created De Vcre Marquis of Dublin and Duke of 
 Ireland, and made him a grant, for him and his 
 heirs for ever, of the entire island. 
 
 Under Henry IV., V., VI., the Butlers and Tal- 
 bots were the two families that most frequently 
 governed. Two or three dukes of the blood royal 
 are scattered among their names, but these were 
 nominal ones. 
 
 Under Edward VI. and Richard III., the Gerald- 
 ines of Kildare and Desmond were most frequently 
 in power. In these reigns, this family grew to such 
 importance, that neither Henry VII., nor at first 
 Henry VIII., dared to depose them. After 'Silken 
 Thomas's ' rebellion in 1531, however, no native was 
 lord justice or lord lieutenant until 1639, in the 
 reign of Charles I., when Robert, Lord Dillon of 
 Kilkenny west, was sworn into the first named 
 office. 
 
 It was in 1494, and Henry Vll.th's reign, that 
 Sir Edward Ponynings, an English lawyer, as 
 deputy, summoned the parliament at Droghed^, 
 where it was decided that no act should be passed 
 through the legislature of the ' Pale ' without first 
 having been submitted to the English Privy 
 Council. 
 
 It was in 1541 that Henry VIII., through the in- 
 strumentality of Sir Anthony St. Leger,- was elected 
 king of Ireland ' with all jurisdiction, power and 
 royal authority.' Sir Anthony is, therefore, prop- 
 erly the first English vice-king in Ireland. 
 
 Under the four Tudor sovereigns, the chief nobles 
 of England, Sidneys, Sussex's, and Essex's were 
 lord lieutenants of Ireland, 
 
 Under the two first Stuarts, the Planters and 
 Pacificators, were most frequently raised to this 
 dignity, as — Chichester, Strafford, Parsons, and 
 Borlase. 
 
 During the first twelve years of Charles II. 's 
 reign, there were governors under the parliament 
 and governors under the king. Cromwell himself, 
 Ireton, Lambert, Fleetwood, and Henry Cromwell 
 for the one, Orman and Clanrickarde for- the other. 
 After the restoration, Monck and Ormond, Berkely 
 and Essex, were the most noted viceroys. 
 
 Under James II., the longest vice-reign is that of 
 Talbot, Earl of Tyrconnell, a brave soldier, but 
 without brains. 
 
 Under William and Mary, with one exception 
 (Murrough Boyle, Viscount Blessington, lord jus- 
 tice in 1696), our chief governors were all English- 
 men — Porters and Paulets. In Queen Anne's reign, 
 with the exception of the Duke of Ormand, lord 
 lieusenant in 1702 — 3 — 4, and again in 1710, the 
 case was the same. 
 
 From Anne's death to the union, we had seventy- 
 nine governors of all sorts, lieutenant justices, and 
 deputies. Of these, in every case, the lieutenants 
 are English, and in a very few the deputies Irish. 
 The Duke of Portland was viceroy in 1782, and 
 Lord Cornwallis in 1800. It was under these four 
 score govenors that Dublin was baptised with the 
 litany of foreign names which speaks from every 
 corner of out streets and squares, the reality of our 
 provincialism. A local parliament gave the capital 
 vitality, but the foreign court gave it titles. The 
 Dorset's, Cavendish's, Grafton's, Sackville's, Rich- 
 mond's, what propriety have they as divisional titles 
 for an Irish metropslis ? Now it was surely bad 
 enough to have bad the men who bore them among 
 us for a time, but thus to perpetuate their good-for- 
 nothing names, is unbearable. How soon will the 
 pride of the citizens of Dublin revolt against this 
 anamoly ? 
 
 In the half century that has elapsed since the 
 ' union ' of the two countries, the ofKcc of lord lieu- 
 
 tenant of Ireland has been upheld, although it is 
 easy to see against the will of our centralizing rulers. 
 Indeed, it is but a couple of years back that its 
 demolition was seriously advocated by English poli- 
 ticians, especially those of the economic school. 
 Irishmen, however, do not complain of it as an in- 
 cumbrance — on the contrary, they look upon it,and 
 rightly, as a British recognition of our separate na- 
 tionality. Neither Scotland nor the principality 
 know any such institution. There is not even a re- 
 semblance of royality on the the thrones once filled 
 by Bruce and Llewellyn. Here it is different. 
 Haddington's and Mnlgrave's, De Grey's and Pon- 
 sonby's, the commission of each is a confession that 
 we are not one people with the English, and are not 
 fo be. 
 
 The dangers are to be dreaded from viceregal in- 
 fluence in a city without a large resident upper class, 
 and a country without a senate, are manifold. But 
 at the same time it is to be considered that an Irish 
 vice-royality at the head of a resident nobility, or 
 an English one with an independent Irish Privy 
 Council, would be the very best form of aristocratic 
 government short of native kingship. The institu- 
 tion, therefore, is most desirable in our state, not so 
 much for the paltry patronage it may afford to the 
 artizans of the capital, its fetes, or its fashions, as 
 for the use which could be made of it, by a patriotic 
 gentry and an unpurchaseable parliament. It 
 must, therefore, be watched and guarded for the 
 future uses of the nation. 
 
 Queen Victokia Descended from an Irish 
 Princess- — Dermot (King of Leinster) had an only 
 daughter. He offered her in marriage to the Earl of 
 Pembroke, with the whole kingdom of Leinster for her 
 dowry, so as he would help him to his revenge. After 
 a great battle against the Danes, in which the Normans 
 were victorious, th'e marriage was celebrated at Water- 
 ford. No record remains to us of the beauty of the bride, 
 or in what language the Norman knight wooed her to 
 his arms; this only we know, that Eva, Queen of Lein- 
 ster in her own right, and Countess of Pembroke by 
 marriage, can number among her descendants the pre- 
 sent Queen of England. 
 
 The great Earl of Pembroke lived but a few years 
 after his capture of Dublin. The Irish legends say 
 that St. Bridget killed him. However, he and Eva 
 had no male heir, and only one daughter, named 
 Isabel, after the Earl's mother, who was also aunt to 
 the reigning King of Scotland. This young girl was 
 sole heiress of Leinster, and of her father's Welsh 
 estates. Richard Coeur de Lion took her to his court 
 at London, and she became his ward. 
 
 In due time she married William Marshall, called 
 the great Earl, hereditary Earl Marshal of England, 
 and Earl of Pembroke and Leinster, in right of his 
 wife. 
 
 Isabel and Earl Williams had five sons and, five 
 daughters. The five sons, William, Walter, Gilbert, 
 Anslem, and Richard — (we see that Isabel called no son 
 of hers after the Royal traitor Dermot, her grand- 
 father) — inherited the title in succession, and all died 
 childless. We have said there was a doom upon 
 Dermoi's male posterity. The inheritance was then 
 divided between the iiva daughters, each of whom 
 received a province for a dower. Carlow, Kilkenny, 
 the Queen's County, Wexford, and Kildare, were the 
 five portions. 
 
 Maud, the eldest, married the Earl of Norfolk, who 
 became Earl Marshal of England in the right of his 
 wife. Isabel, the second, m.-xrried the Earl of Glouces- 
 ter, and her grandmother, Isabel also, was mother to 
 the great Robert Bruce, who was therefore great- 
 great-great grandson of Eva and Strongbow. Eva, 
 the third daughter, married the Lord de Breos, and 
 from a daughter of hers, named Eva likewise, descend- 
 ed Edward the Fourth, King of England, through 
 whoso granddaugliter Margaret, Queen of Scotland, 
 daughter ot Henry the Seventh, the present reigning 
 family of England, claim their right to the throne. 
 Through two lines, therefore, our most gracious Majesty 
 can trace back her pedigree to Eva, the Irish princess. 
 
216 
 
 IRISH mscELLAinr. 
 
 ENTRANCE TO GLENDALOL'GH, CO. AVICKLOW. 
 
 CLENOALOUCH. 
 
 The TallcT of Glcndalough, commonly called the 
 Seven Churches, is situated in the barony of Ballin- 
 aeor, twenty-two miles from Dublin, eleven from 
 Wicklow, and live from Roundwood. It is a spacious 
 Tallcy, between one and two thousand yards in breadth, 
 and about two miles and a half in extent, having lofty 
 and precipitous mountains hanging over it upon every 
 side, except on that by which it is entered between 
 Derrjbawn on the south, and Broccagh mountain on 
 the north. 
 
 It would be difficult to conceive anything more 
 solemnly impressive than the scene which presents it- 
 self to view as we approach the lake, so famous for its 
 legends. So wondeilul and remarkable a scene has 
 rarely been before witnessed. Wild, bare, rocky and 
 dark-colored mountains run out into a sharp promon- 
 tory ; to the right the ground descends into the valUy 
 of Glendalough. One can see into both these valleys 
 at the same time lhrou;;h broad, wide rock doors. 
 
 In the foreground, in the midst of basin formed by 
 the meetiag of the two valleys, lie the low ruins of 
 the Seven Churches ; and rif;ht in the centre, forming 
 the middle point of the landscape, rises the lofty, 
 slender, pillar-temple, that standi in good preservation, 
 exactly in the middle of this picturesque wilderness, 
 like Pompey's Pillar in the midst of the waste of 
 Alexandria. Behind this temple appear the water- 
 mirrors of the two famous lakes ; first, the smaller, 
 and behind it the larger. The entire prospect is ruin, 
 ruins of nature and ot art. It is, indeed, a wild and 
 touching scene of de.soUtion— the Baalbec of Ireland. 
 No tillage, no indusirj, no evidence of social coopera- 
 tion — all l^ flat, dreary, and barren. Such it the scene 
 which in gloomy solitude shiouds this city of the dead, 
 celebrated in the earliest ages of Christianity — while 
 Britain was still sunk in barharinm — for the splendour 
 of its altars, and for the learning of its monastic com- 
 munity! The name of Glendalou;.h, like other early 
 denominations of phices derived from sonic obvious 
 natural features, implies ' the valley, or glen, of the 
 two lakes.' The lower is small, and is filled only 
 daring wintrr; the upper is a mile in length, by about 
 a quarter broad. St. Kevin founded the Abbey of 
 Glendalough, and presided there as abbot and bishop 
 for many years. He died on the 3d of June, CIS, 
 being nearly 120 years old. The Seven Churches, 
 properly so called, are Trinity Church, the Cathedral, 
 the Abbey, St. Kevin'a Chorch, Uar Lady's Charcb, 
 
 the Rhefeart Church, Teampnllna-Skellig. As we 
 approach the valley by the road from Lara, the first 
 object of interest which presents itself is the ruined 
 church of St. Saviour, so denominated in the Ord- 
 nance Survey ; for a description of it we refer to the 
 able woik on Irish antiquities, lately published by Mr. 
 Petrie, the great authority on all such suKjects. He 
 describes the round tower as one of the loftiest and 
 most perfect in Ireland, being 110 feet high, and fifty- 
 one feet circumference; and precisely as it stood at 
 the beginning of the present year it is given, with all 
 its immediate archa;ological accessories, by the truth- 
 ful pencil of Mr. Jones, in the accompanying engrav- 
 ing. Besides its little doorway, the tower has two 
 little windows in the shaft, and four small apertures 
 near the top ; it is bull', of granite, and of a hard kind 
 of slate wedged in between the granite blocks. The 
 cap fell to the ground in 1804. 
 
 St. Kevin's Bed. is on the south side of the Upper 
 Lake, and is a ca\ iiy in the face of tlie nearly perpen- 
 dicular rock. This hallow is at a fearful elevatiou 
 above the dark waters. Whether excavated by art, or 
 originally a natural recess, it is impossible to deter- 
 mine. As it is most easy of access from the water, a 
 boat is always at hand to convey the curious to it ; 
 and many arc the talcs that are told of the adventures 
 of some of the most celebrated personnges of the 
 prestnt century, of either sex, in reaching it. We 
 need not encumber our piges with any profitless par- 
 ticulars of their sayings and doings; but it would he 
 unpardoii.ible to omit Thackery's description of the 
 general aspect of the whole place, done in the happiest 
 style of Mr. Michael Angelo Titmar.-h, ere the author 
 of the ' liish Sketch Hook' had begun to paint in the 
 encaustic of ' Vanity Kair.' After some remarks 
 apropos cf music in general, and the Irish melodies iu 
 particular, he proceeds thus : — 
 
 ' I don't know if there is any tui.c about Glenda- 
 lough ; but if there he, it must be the most delicate, 
 fanuisli ', fairy melody that ever was played. Only 
 fancy can describe the charms of that delightful place. 
 Directly }uu see it, it smiles at you as innocent and 
 friendly as a little child ; and once seen it becomes 
 your friend for ever, and you are always happy when 
 you think of it. Here is a little lake and little fords 
 across it, surrounded by little mountains, and which 
 lend you now to little islands where there arc all sorts 
 of fantastic little old chapels and graveyards ; or again 
 into the little brakes and shrabberies where small riv- 
 
 ers are crossing over little rocks, plashing and jumping, 
 and singing as loud as ever they can. Thomas Mooro 
 has written rather an awful description of it ; and it 
 may indeed appear big to him, and the faries who 
 must have inhabited the place in old days — that's 
 clear. For who could bo accommodnted in it except 
 the little people? There are Seven Churches, whereof 
 the clergy must have been the smallest persons, and 
 have had the smallest benefices and the littlest congre- 
 gations ever known. As for the Cathedral, what a 
 bishoplct it must have been that presided there ! — the 
 place would hardly hold the Bishop of London or Mr. 
 Sydney Smith — two full-sized clergymen of these days 
 — who would be sure to quarrel there for want of 
 room, or for any other reason. There must have been 
 a dean no bigger than Mr. Moore before mentioned, 
 and a chapter no bigger than that chapter in Tristram 
 Shandy, which does not contain a single word, and 
 mere popguns of canons, and a beadle about as tall as 
 Croftoii Cruker, to whip the little boys who were 
 phiyiug at taw (with pea.-) in the yard. They saw 
 there was a university, too, in the place, with I don't 
 know how many thousand scholars ; but for accounts 
 of tliis, there is an excellent guide on the spot, who, 
 fur a shilling or to two, will tell all he knows about 
 
 YoDTiiFtL IJKiiOiBM. — lu oDe of the battles daring 
 the American war, 1777, Lieutenant Hervey, a youth 
 of sixecn, received several wounds, and was repeatedly 
 ordered olf the Held by the Lieutenant (Joloiiel of his 
 legiinent; but the gallant lad would not leave the 
 gruund while he could stand, and see his brother-sol- 
 diers fighting beside him. A ball striking one of his 
 legs, his removal became necessaiy ; and in the act of 
 convening hira away, another wounded him mortally. 
 In this situation the surgeon recommended him to take 
 a dose of opium, to avoid several hours of life of ex- 
 treme torture. This he immediately consented to do ; 
 «nd when his Colonel entered the tent, with Major 
 ilarnage, who were both wounded, they asked whether 
 ho had any affairs they could settle for him 1 His 
 reply was, that being a minor, every thing was 
 already acjusied ; but he had one request, which 
 he retained just life enough to utter — ' Tell my 
 uncle (Adjalaut-geniral Hervey) I diid like a sol- 
 dier.' 
 
 A Cashless HoDSiiUAii>. — That girl would break 
 the Bank of England if she put her band upon it. 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 217 
 
 IRISH MISCELLANY 
 
 BOSTON, SATUKDAY, NOVEMBER 13. 18D8. 
 
 ARE VOU AS OLD AS YOU SEEM ' 
 In our las' number wc wrote concerning nations 
 ■which are comparatively joung in the life of the 
 ■world, and which, while somewhat proud of their 
 youth, claim, nevertheless, to be ranked with the 
 oldest and strongest powers, feeling, at the same 
 time, that they are strong enough to meet and to 
 beat these powers, whether they come singly or to- 
 gether. America and old Pagan Rome afford 
 obvious examples of the class of nations of which 
 ■we were treating. 
 
 Turning to the living nations of the old world, 
 we find ourselves yet within the domains of authen- 
 tic history, and each nation of note can tell us 
 pretty nearly how old she is. Leaving Ireland aside 
 for the present, and landing, as we will suppose, in 
 England, we visit each civilized nation, and peer 
 curiously into the past records of each. The result 
 is, that we can assign an epoch at which the his- 
 tory of each civilized nation of our day properly 
 begins, and the accurate student wUl not find his 
 calculations to vary materially from the facts. Of 
 course we are speaking of nations having some pre- 
 tensions to the name, considering the times; we are 
 not speaking of nomade, or wandering tribes, 
 
 England, France, and Germany, to say nothing 
 of Eastern Europe, may have been, and perhaps 
 were occupied by Pagans, and of course barbarians, 
 as hunting, fighting, and lodging grounds, centu- 
 ries before the conquest of Julius Ofcsar, very much 
 as the immense wilds of America were occupied by 
 our Indians before the landing of the white men, or 
 as some western tracts of land are clain^ed by our 
 hardy frontiersmen, one of whom gave as reason for 
 removing from his lonely settlement, that neighbors 
 ■were gathering too thickly around him. One man 
 had made a clearing five hundred miles off. He 
 could endure this affliction, but when another set- 
 ler built a log cabin two hundred miles distant, the 
 air became too close for him, and he measured seven 
 hundred miles between himself and his last tor- 
 mentor. 
 
 To understand the history of England, one must 
 consider how much the old Celts, the Saxons and 
 the Normans each contributed to make up that 
 which is called the British nation, not forgetting 
 the occasional help given by the Danes. Julius 
 Ca;sar invaded Britain just in time to open the book 
 of real British history. From his commentaries, 
 and from Roman documents edited from time to 
 time, it is not only easy to trace the history of the 
 decline and fall of the Celtic and of the Roman 
 power in Britain, hut it is also easy to tell how far ad- 
 vanced, as a nation, were the subjects of Queen 
 Boadicea at the time of Julius Ca;sar's landing. 
 Nay, although hundreds, thousands of volumes have 
 been written about English history, from the day of 
 the landing at the Isle of Thanet, of the first Chrii 
 tian missionaries under Augustine, to this very year 
 of grace, yet we variably believe that ordinary read- 
 ers of English history know more of the truth about 
 the life of that nation, from the landing of Julius 
 Cffisar to that of the missionary Augustine, than they 
 know about the same lifo from the accession of 
 Henry VIII. to that of "William III. The same 
 thing may be said of the history of every nation, 
 because there are times when party spirit, bigotry 
 and hatred rage so.fiercely, that an almost super- 
 human effort is needed in order that a man may deal 
 out the commonest justice to his political, and, in 
 such times, his personal enemy. Few writers are 
 thoroughly honest, although some would seem to 
 themselves so. Almost every one has his hobby, 
 
 or favorite theory, and, if the facts will not adjust 
 themselves so as to suit that theory, why, so much 
 the worse for the facts. 
 
 Julius CiEsnr conquered Germany and France, as 
 they are now called, although the boundary lines 
 are not settled yet, and his account of the hordes of 
 growing nations occupying that portion of the conti- 
 nent opens to us the volumes of German and French 
 history. We call them German and French for the 
 sake of convenience, and the designations are suffi- 
 ciently accurate for our present purpose. Volumes 
 by thousands have been written since in continua- 
 tion of that edited almost two thousand years ago 
 by the illustrious Roman, so that he who may have 
 the time, gifts and training requisite to the task, can 
 make the history of any civilized nation in Europe 
 at the present day, whether young, or in its prime, 
 or middle-aged or old, and he can trace her progress, 
 from the time when she began to say to herself and 
 to others, 'I am a nation,' down to the daysin which 
 we live. And if the historian do not construct his 
 history ' a priori ' ; if he do not invent a theory, 
 showing what that nation should have been and 
 what she should be now, and make facts conform to 
 his theory,or sturdily deny facts, he will accomplish 
 his purpose with a fair degree of success. Most his- 
 tories written since the beginning of this century 
 fail lamentably in this respect. Read, for example, 
 the history of England from the accession of Henry 
 VIII. to that of William III., as given by Hume, 
 Lingard, McAulay, Hallum, Cobbett, and, for the 
 Cromwellian period, Carlyle. What can you make 
 of it ? whom will you believe ? Even Lingard has 
 his theory, as every Roman andlrish scholar knows. 
 
 So the civilized nations of Europe are about as 
 old as they seem. The diligent student, in tracing 
 upward the history of any one of them, searching 
 after nationalities, not barbarous tribes, will com- 
 monly find that two thousand years, or so, will give 
 him time enough to answer his purpose. Italy af- 
 ford one exception to the rule. 
 
 Let us here say that we worship Livy ; believe in 
 the speeches which he puts into the mouths of his 
 heroes — surely the heroes could not make better 
 ones! — and believe in Romulus, Remus, and the 
 wolf that suckled them, and all that. Have wenot 
 seen the brazen wolf at the Capitol, bearing the 
 marks of the thunderbolt which struck twentj'-tive 
 hundred years ago ? Have we not seen the grotto 
 of Egeria, where the fairy gave lessons to Numa 
 Pompilius in the science of government ? Have we 
 not crossed the plain of Alba, where the three 
 champions were buried ? Have we not seen hun- 
 dreds of monuments of Pagan Rome, all of which can 
 be accounted for by giving to the city all it asks for 
 itself — all that it ever asked — a life, thus far, of 
 twenty-five or six hundred years ? You may throw 
 in the odd four hundred years, or so, and then you 
 will have only three thousand years, which brings 
 the life of Rome, from the beginning until now, 
 within the pale of historic investigation. We are 
 willing to grant that the student of Roman history 
 may require a little more time for the events which 
 pass under his review, but, as this question does not 
 enter into our present subject, we let it pass without 
 discussion. What we object to chiefly in this pres- 
 ent correction is, that Neibuhr and his swarm of 
 followers, all men of our own day, pretend to know 
 more about ancient Rome than the ancient Romans 
 did. They pull down every monument, and grind 
 the whole together in some mill of theirs, construct- 
 ed accoiding to an 'a priori' principle, and the mis- 
 chief is, that their reading of Roman history is not 
 half as satisfactory,to say the least, as that to which 
 we were accustomed when we were boys. We be- 
 gin, OS wc read on, to doubt whether there was such 
 a city as Rome, or a people called the Roman na- 
 tion. German infidel commentators have treated 
 the Bible in the samo way, until, thanks to their un- 
 dermining labors, hundreds of thousands of nomi- 
 
 nal Christians do not believe in the sacredneas of the 
 book any more than they do in that of Shakespeare. 
 If you choose to believe some commentators on ec- 
 clesiastical history, you will find two theories con- 
 cerning the Roman Cotholic church all ready for 
 you. One school says that she lived and wrought 
 evil in the world all along for two thousand years 
 before she was born, of course changing her name 
 and dress to suit the times. Another class says that 
 she did not begin to live for from four to eight hun- 
 dred years after she was born, she having, in the 
 mean time, converted the nations and civilized the 
 peoples of so many lands. Now these biblical and 
 ecclesiastical commentators v.-ere as learned, as pa- 
 tient, and as lynx-eyed as our modern transcenden- 
 tal theorizers on the histories of Rome and Greece. 
 If I give my confidence to them, what shall I say to 
 Neander and Strauss ? 
 
 The Romans were compaiitively late settlers in 
 Italy — in their national capacity, we mean. They 
 found in the land communities well organized, con- 
 sidering the times. Rome absorbed all these within 
 her mighty bosom, and they became bone of her 
 bone, and flesh of her flesh ; they lived the life of 
 Rome. There were the Etrurians at the North, 
 most probably Celts, but who have had, for many 
 an age, no one to speak for them ; no independent 
 community which could call itself Etrurian ; this 
 volume of the world's history is closed, the book is 
 lost, and the only traces are a few precious objects 
 of antiquity, such as the Etrusian vase, or a seem- 
 ingly antediluvian ruin. Besides other tribes, prob- 
 ably Celtic, which inhabited Italy, there were the 
 Grecian colonies at the south and south-^west of the 
 peninsula. Luckily, most historians of weight are 
 agreed as to the age when these flourishing colonies 
 had become little mirrors of Greek oivilization, such 
 as it was. 
 
 Finally, let us observe that Greek history has been 
 tinkered over and over again within forty years by 
 so many commentators, that it is in a worse predica- 
 ment than Roman history. It does well enough for 
 boys who are beginning their historical studies, al- 
 though we suspect that the boys, when they become 
 pien, would have at their command more available 
 and practical information about it had they studied 
 in the old-fashioned way. Judging from the tangi- 
 ble results of cramming what is called learning, ia 
 all its elementary branches, into the heads of all our 
 young victims of free education — looking at the 
 work done or left undone,or badly done in the world 
 by them — -we are led to ask whether ignorance does 
 not increase in an inverse ratio with the supply of 
 means and appliances for the furtherance of educa- 
 tion. To put it in another form ; is it true that the 
 nearer the school-house, the farther from trve, solid 
 education. That will be a problem for the next gen- 
 eration to settle. But for men, who studied their 
 Greek and Roman history when they were boys, the 
 task of unlearning everything is too severe. Every 
 man, and every place mentioned, stand out as dis- 
 tinctly as the men and places whom we have seen 
 with our own eyes. If I can't believe in Marathon 
 I must give up Bunker Hill. If there were never 
 TUE Solon, George Washington never lived. Never- 
 theless, it seems to be ceitain that thirty-five hun- 
 dred years, or so, will cover all the demands of the 
 most enthusiastic stickler for the antiquity of the 
 Greek nation. She may have it, for she ceased to 
 be a power two thousand years ago, and, besides, 
 thirty-five hundred years do not bring us back to 
 the flood, and, scattered along the first fifteen hun- 
 dred years, we find monuments of all sorts, growing 
 steadily in number and value, which enable the stu- 
 dent to form a pretty correct opinion as to the age 
 those early Greek nationalities became young Greece, 
 and when t'^ey began to say to themselves and to 
 others : We arc of age, we are free, henceforth we 
 will take care of ourselves. 
 
 In our next article we will have something to say 
 about those old and bedridden nations wh.ch live 
 because Death seems to have forgotten them, and 
 who take a childish pleasure in trying to make us 
 believe that they are much older than they seem. 
 
218 
 
 IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 (Wrillfu fur ilic Ml^coll«ny ) 
 
 THE MEN OF NINETV-EIOHT. 
 
 AIK— -Uradh Mu Clirolilho.' 
 
 Opprparloii rampmit o'er the luiiil. fcviiicd ciirrlcii.s where it 
 
 trud, 
 Kot IVuring any pow'r oriiian, dctlniit c'eu of (iod; 
 (Jut buriil u iiiiui- bcueiith its I'nit, which well iiIkIi waled its 
 
 lali'i 
 Asd tyrant! yet forRet not quite the nun of uinety-«l;;lit. 
 
 Tiny fought and bled, uud luauy a lot- lay low beneath the 
 I'ike, 
 
 And never yet in Juster cnufe did daring munhuod strike; 
 
 Hut fortune froHu'd their banner down, »o beauteous when 
 elate. 
 
 The vivid green, 'ueath whiub were ectn the men of ninety- 
 eight. 
 
 The bravest foremost lightiug fell, norUitil thi'v .niitc in 
 
 vain; 
 Their deeds with pride de.^cendantr tell, and minstrels swell 
 
 the strain 
 Of Erin's haip, in memory ofucis which tyrants hnle. 
 And lilly, lor they felt in feur, tlie men of ninety-eight. 
 
 A million Krin wept of late, of lamish'd or of fled; 
 
 Far b«tler could we proudly rate them with our glorious 
 dead. 
 
 Who thih'd the ranks of foemcn first, then nobly met their 
 lule. 
 
 Aud handed down the grand renown of men of ninety- 
 eight. 
 
 A slave's e.sistence is not life such as a man could prize. 
 The gallaut martyr ou the held contemns it while he dies; 
 A manly S|)irit tyranny can never subjugate, 
 But, thrust it through, 't will try to do like men of ninety- 
 eight. 
 
 Again: again! will Erin try her now laid by good steel. 
 And may she seize the proper time to urge her just appeal. 
 To Bailie's Ood, for justice ou, her loes insatiate, 
 Who killed, exil'd, and still revile, the men of ninety-eight 
 Kkixagh. 
 
 Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1868, by 
 Thomas 0•^cill, iu the District Court of ilassachusetts. 
 
 KEMINISOENCES IN THE 
 
 IF k 
 
 — IN THE — 
 
 ENGLISH AND AJIEKICAN SERVICES. 
 BY TUOIIAS O'NEILL. 
 
 DEDICATED TO GE.NEK. 
 
 I. J A .M E S SHIELDS. 
 
 THE COLONEL OUTWITTED. 
 
 Colonel Joseph T , now a general in the Brit- 
 ish army, was at onetime Lieutenant Colonel of the 
 regiment in which I served. It was before Lord Bru- 
 denell, the present Earl of Cardigan, took command. 
 The latter is a man whose tyrannical overbearing and 
 aristocratic prcsamption had well nigh driven the regi- 
 ment into a state of mutiny, a man whose conduct has 
 been before the public in a very unfavorable light. 
 
 ' Old Joe,' as he was familiarly called, was an eccen- 
 tric character, who, although the greatest cavjlry drill 
 in the service, and one of the strictest disciplinarics, 
 had a keen relish for a good joke. He had lost an arm 
 at Waterloo, where, as mEJor, he, in military parlance, 
 ' took in a squadron." IIU servant was an old, but 
 still very active, soldier, .named .Joseph Turner. He 
 was like an echo to the old Colonel ; had been with 
 him at Waterloo, and knew every trait of his eccentric 
 character so well that he could scarcely do without 
 him. Nothing the old Colonel detested more than 
 swearing— at least swearing in any body else— while 
 he hiinseli would, on the slightest occasion, rattle forth 
 a string of oaths like a litany. If he heard a soldier ' 
 swearing he would mornli-c with him on the enormity 
 of the oflence, coolly at first, then wa.xing warm on 
 the subject, would generally conclude with the asseve- 
 ration that it was a d n bad practice, and the sol- 
 dier a good for nothing rascal. 
 
 Turner had a good place with the old man, and 
 really was invaluable to him, enjoying his full confi- 
 dence ; in fact, he would, without consulting his mas- 
 ter, do whatever he thought fit, and whatever he did, 
 or whatever he bought, was sure to meet the approval 
 
 of the Culcnel, whose inlen>«ta and whims formed \m 
 whole stud^. ilui, like ihu (■eneralliy of old soldiers, 
 Turner would lake » periudical spree. Uc would ask 
 leave for an evening, and, after taking his frolic, would 
 return in g«iod otder and goo<l lime, fur order and 
 puaciiialiiy were with him the priinial law. However, 
 on one sccusiou he gave the Colonel i-oinc slight of- 
 fence. There was nothing strange in this, for they 
 often had a family i|nurrel ; but this lime the Colonel 
 happened to take more than usual iioiicu of it; and 
 meeting the Troop Seigciinl MiJ ir of Turner's troop, 
 gave him orders not to allow Turner another puss un- 
 til further orders. This did not in the least disconcert 
 the old soldier, imr cause him io de,mrt from the 
 routine of his daily business ; for when the usual time 
 lor leave of absence returned, he made the eusloinary 
 application ; but tlie Sergeant Major refused to sign 
 It. Turner made the usual prelimiuuiy arrangements, 
 that the old mun luight not bo im onvenienced by his 
 absence; and when evening came, he diessid, and 
 went to town. His spree over, he rciurned, as if ho 
 had a pass ; but in place of going Io his room, as 
 usual, he went to the guard. room, aud reported him- 
 self as having been absent without leave, and was, of 
 course, put in durance, and the ue.xt day brought up 
 along with the oilier defaulters. 
 
 Now, it was usual for the Sergeant Major of each 
 troop to accompany his own men who were prisoners, 
 in order to speak to their general cliarucier. There 
 were but two prisoners on the day in que-tion. Both 
 belonged to the same troop, ar.d as I happened to he 
 one of the guard, I witnessed, and well remember, 
 the whole of the singular prooeudiiigs wliicli followed. 
 The Colonel, instead of attending in the office general- 
 ly, had the prisoners brought to his room. On arriving 
 at the door, the Sergeant of the guard tapptti, and we 
 heard the well-known ' enter.' The Sergeant entered, 
 and announced hiin-elf as the Sergeant of the guard 
 with pri.^oners. The prisoners were then brought in, 
 attended by the Troop Sergeant Major. Here the 
 party stood in line, the priscuers flanked by the guard. 
 The Colonel inquired, ' What have these men done, 
 Sergeant ? ' 
 
 The Sergeant of the guard here read — ' Private Wil- 
 liam Harford, of Captain W 's troop, absent with- 
 out leave two days and two nights ; returned sober, 
 and of his own iccord.' 
 
 The Colonel then turned to the Serjeant Major — 
 ' What is the prisoner's character f ' 
 
 ' Character decidedly good, sir; never before a de- 
 faulter ; a good soldier ; seventeen years' service.' 
 
 ' My gracious ! ' exclaimed the Colonel, ' this is too 
 bad, a soldier seventeen years in the service, and never 
 before a defaulter, must indeed know how to conduct 
 himself. How conies it, Mr. Harford, that you, who have 
 been, and ought to be, a patiein to disobedient men, i 
 have so far lorgottcn yourself? Is it not enough, sir, 
 that I should be troubled with drunken rascals, with- 
 out being called upon to perform the distressing duty 
 of ordering such men as you to imprisonment 1 
 Answer, Mr. Harford, if you can, what do you mean 
 by it ? You, who hitherto aided by your example to 
 make my duties light ; you, to whom I point as n 
 pattern soldier, speak, sir, if you can ? ' 
 Yes, sir, I will tell you.' 
 
 The Colonel was all attention. The prisoner pro- 
 ceeded : — 
 
 ' I have been seventeen years in the same troop ; 
 never belorc a prisoner, nor yet a defaulter of any 
 kind ; have ever performed my duty so as to obtain 
 credit, and have been what is called a clean and good 
 soldier; but, nnder your command, I find that such 
 soldiers receive no mark of favor, are never pro- 
 moted, and receive nothing to signify your approval of 
 good conduct. How many men of had character have 
 I seen get the ' stripes ' and otherwise advanced during 
 that time. Yes, and even whom it w»s notorious did 
 not cam their reward cither by attention or ability aa 
 well OS I did, and if it solely depended upon qualifica- 
 tion, could not have been sergeants in the regiment in 
 which I have remained a private. This, Colonel, is tlie 
 
 reason for my conduct, and I am resolved to have inv 
 
 lling • 
 
 Hold, hold, Mr. Harford ; so you have resolved to 
 become a rascal, have you ! ' 
 
 ' No, sir, I have not resolved to become any such 
 thing, but simply to take things us they come, and 
 have a time, and he a defaulter once in a while, and if 
 I turn out rascal, as you term d fauliers, remember, 
 Colonel, it is to you it must he attributed ; ra^cal• you 
 piomote, such men as I have been arc disqualified.' 
 
 ' You were certainly brought up for the bar; go Io 
 your duty, Mr. Haiford.' 
 
 Then turning to the Sergeant Major, the old Colonel 
 continued : — 
 
 ' Put him in orders for corporal immcdi.itely, sir, or 
 else I shall be guiliy of making a rascal, and this I 
 must not do, for 1 have enough of that class,' giving a 
 significant look at old Turner. 
 
 He was as good as his word, for in a very short time 
 Harford was promoted Troop Sergeant Major. 
 
 This ease having been thus disposed of, the Sergeant 
 of the guard read, ' Private Joseph Turner, of Capiain 
 
 W 's troop, absent without leave one day and ono 
 
 night; churrcter good; a Waterloo soldier; service 
 twenty-live years ; returned sober, and of bis own ac- 
 coril.' 
 
 ' Well, Sergeant M.ijor,' said the Colonel, ' this is a 
 deliberate piece of villainy, and, moreover, it is a per- 
 sonal insult; here is a man who can go in and out at 
 his own pleasure, wiili no one to control him, and yet 
 he deliberately absents himself, actually making pre- 
 parations for his absence ; this proves that he intended 
 to be a defaulter. I have overlooked a thousand in- 
 stances of his misconduct heretofore, but I am deter- 
 mined to do so no longer.' Hire he paused, but im- 
 mediately again resumed, and, turning towards the 
 prisoner, said, ' The only thing which troubles me, 
 sir, is that I cannot ordtr you for a court martial ; yes, 
 and have you flogged, sir.' Here another pause took 
 place, when, again addressing the prisoner — 
 ' What ought I do with you, sir ( ' 
 ' What you ought to do,' coolly answered the pris- 
 oner. 
 
 ' And pray what is that, sir ? Flog you, of course 
 it is, you acknowledge it.' 
 
 The prisoner kept silent ; another pause, and still 
 turning towards him the colonel resumed — 
 
 ' Yes, sir, a thought now strikes me, sir ; I will 
 see what you consider should be done to such a ras- 
 cal as yourself. You shall be Colonel T , and 
 
 I will be the prisoner ; by that means I will find out 
 what you think such offenders deserve, but mind, 
 sir, if it be less than a flogging or a court martial, 
 at all events I shall appeal from your judgment, 
 mind that, sir.' 
 
 Now, sergeant, take me outside ; I will be the 
 prisoner for a time, and Mr. Turner will be the col- 
 onel for a time. Colonel !— ah ! the gallows he de- 
 serves, instead of colonelcy. Sergeant, all the forms 
 if you please— go through all the forms.'. 
 
 Turner took the colonel's chair, and, of course, 
 assumed all the dignity he could master. The ser- 
 geant rapped — then we heard ' Enter !' He entered 
 and, in due form, announced himself as the sergeant 
 of the guard with prisoners. 
 
 We entered. Turner throwing himself back in the 
 chair, with an assumption of dignity thai was ludi- 
 crous to witness. He inquired — 
 ' What is his crime, sergeant ':' 
 The sergeant read : ' Private Joseph Turner, of 
 
 Captain 'SW 's troop, absent, without leave, one 
 
 day and night, returned sober, and of his own ac- 
 cord, character good, AVaterloo soldier, service 
 menty-livc years.' 
 
 Turner then deliberately took up the paper as the 
 sergeant laid it upon the table, and commenced 
 reading from the bottom upwards. 
 
 ' Returned sober, that's good — twenty-five years' 
 service, that's good — a Waterloo soldier, that's good 
 — one who has done the state some service — charac- 
 ter good, that's good — absent one day and one night 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 219 
 
 without Ifave, that's bad.' Then, turning to the 
 bergeant major, ho uskul, • Did this man aijply tor 
 leave of absence in the usual way ?' 
 ' Yes, sir,' was tlie reply. 
 
 • Who did he apply to f 
 
 ' To me sir!' • 
 
 ' And in the usual manner ?' 
 
 ' Yes, sir.' 
 
 ' What is the reason then that an old soldier, of 
 good eharaeter, one who has always returned, sober 
 and to tinie, was ri fused } Answer, sergeant major.' 
 
 ' I was ordered not to present a pass to him till 
 further orders. 
 
 • From whom did you get the order ? State !' 
 ' From the ecilonel, sir!' 
 
 'Indeed,' said the acting colonel, ' I do not re- 
 member giving such an order. This is a ease for 
 more mature deliberation j this man appears to have 
 acted very judiciously, and, in fact, quiie justifiably, 
 not-only so, but I think this ought to teach those 
 who command regiments not to withhold all proper 
 indulgence from good soldiers, especially as the gov- 
 ernment so enjoins, and not the first article of war 
 against it. My judgment deliberately and reason- 
 ably giA'en is, that this man should have one day and 
 night's absence, according to his wish, given hip;, 
 and not only this, but the officer in command at the 
 time, by whose authority he was refused such 
 proper leave, do furnish him with five shillings to 
 enjoy the aforesaid twenty-four hours leave.' 
 
 Turner having pronounced the judgment, thus, in 
 the most pompous manner, arose, and resumed the 
 prisoner's position. 
 
 Colonel T waved his band to take him away ; 
 
 he was marched back to the guard-room, and the 
 sergeant ordered to fill up a pass, which was signed 
 forthwith, and sent by the sergeant major to Turner, 
 along with five shillings, ■which, in handing to him, 
 he cautioned hini to be sure that he returned sober 
 and in proper time. 
 
 rrom the Democratic Ee\iew of October. 
 IRELAND'S INDEPENDENCE. 
 While politicians, statesmen and philanthropists 
 have been discussing the condition of Ireland, de- 
 ploring her dependency upon England, and antici- 
 pating the day when their efl'orts would sever the 
 
 unnatural bonds which have for many years held 
 
 her in subjection to that inhuman power, it would 
 
 seem tha; science, enterprise, and the course of 
 
 events are about accomplishing for this nation what 
 
 the best efforts of her heroic sons and the most pow- 
 erful appeals of her ablest advocates have failed to 
 
 secure. 
 
 The union of Ireland and the American continent 
 
 by the ocean telegraph, if it proves successful, and 
 
 the establishment of the North Atlantic Steamship 
 
 Company, may justly be regarded as the entering 
 
 wedge destined to sever the baneful and unequal 
 
 political connexion now subsisting between Ireland 
 
 and England. The timid must not be alarmed at 
 
 this prediction, for neither blood nor carnage will 
 
 tarnish the progress of a revolution certain to follow 
 
 the scientific and commercial achievements referred 
 
 to. 
 
 Whether American principles are to govern Ire- 
 land and England, with therest of civilized Europe, 
 remains yet to be seen — the propabilities are that 
 they will. Xor is it certain but that Ireland may 
 yet, within a brief period, obtain the ascendency 
 over England in the governmental policy of Europe. 
 The unseen power that guides and controls the des- 
 tinies of men and of nations, has worked out more 
 astounding problems, in the overthrow of old and 
 powerful empires and the establishment of new ones, 
 than this. The cruel hand of destiny has, for a 
 dreary age, borne heavily upon the brave and indus- 
 trious citizens of Ireland. It has seemed at times 
 that the last glimmer of the setting sun was about I and England for 
 to disappear from this beautiful island, and as I tioned. 
 
 though the eternal night of despair had enveloped l 
 it within its dark folds ; but in every such emer- 
 gency some kind interposition of a watchful provi- | 
 dence has averted the threatened destruction, and 
 new hope taken possession of the heart of Ireland. 
 
 A glance at the history of the world, the rise and 
 fall of nations, cannot fail to convince the retlective 
 mind that there can be no security in a government 
 based upon injustice and usurpation. The history 
 of man everywhere teaches us that the nation of 
 strength and power to-day may become a weak de- 
 pendency to-morrow. England, with all her great- 
 ness, is no more secure in her power than nations 
 that have preceded her, and whose glory has de- 
 parted never again to return. 
 
 The Assyrians, the riiilistians, the Chaldeans, the 
 commercial republics of Phoenicia and of the Per- 
 sians, governing with a strong arm from the Medi- 
 terranean to the Indus ; where are they ? What 
 has become of this wonderful people of Egypt, whose 
 matchless city was Thebes, the cradle of art, science, 
 and civilization ? 
 
 The human vision is almost bewildered in con- 
 templating the dissolving views of this once mighty 
 country. Among its world of palaces and gigantic 
 temples, whose spires seemed to pierce th« very 
 heavens, scarcely a monument of its ancient glory 
 now remains. During the early pomp and power 
 of Egypt, when her kings, in the plentitude of their 
 power, forgot their God, and imposed burdens, and 
 inflicted wrongs on the people of Israel, light in 
 comparison with the injustice perpetrated on Ire- 
 land by England, the hand of offended Deity smote 
 Egypt with curse after curse until their very day was 
 converted into dark night, and the sun and the 
 heavens frowned upon the land. 
 
 Nor is England more powerful than Greece or 
 Home, and yet the glory of these once mighty na- 
 tions has also disappeared. These nations were not 
 more grasping or unscrupulous than Great Britain. 
 Governed by the same desire of extended empire, 
 regardless of the rights or wishes of the people over 
 whom their power and authority were attempted to 
 be exercised, the elements of their decay were most 
 deeply seated in their false systems, at the very time 
 when their rulers seemed to consider themselves and 
 the country most secure from danger. While the 
 ruthless hands of the strong were grasping the 
 rights of the weak, and resting upon their own se- 
 curity, the conquerers of the world thought to per- 
 petuate power, the cry of the oppressed was heard 
 and answered. 
 
 'The changes and vicissitudes that have marked 
 the history of nations will still continue, and the 
 only guarantee of national perpetuity is in that gov- 
 ernmental system which, founded on principles of 
 justice and equality, recommends itself to the con- 
 fidence of the governed. That the government of 
 Great Britain does not possess this quality is evi- 
 dent, not only from her treatment of Ireland, but 
 also from her treatment of other people over whom 
 she rules. 
 
 As the recitation of wrongs imposed on Ireland 
 alone would fill a large volume, slight reference can 
 now only be made to the policy of the English gov- 
 ernment towards that people. It is acknowledged 
 by all who profess to believe in a republican form of 
 government, that every feature of the system that 
 connects — not unites — the English nation with the 
 Irish is defective and wrong. The political policy 
 of a nation that enforces submission from foreign 
 colonies to its will, aga.nst the consent of the peo- 
 ple, is unjust ; but that system which commands 
 the obedience of millions of freemen who almost 
 unanimously hold in abhorrence the government, 
 which by a power of foreign soldiery is upheld 
 among them, is not only false and unjust, but de- 
 grading and infamous. 
 
 That this relation has existed between Ireland 
 long period cannot be ques- 
 
 From the day that the perjured Gates and Bedloe 
 lit the flames of bigotry and persecution, which 
 swept over Great Britain, moistening its soil with 
 the blood of martyrs, the people of Ireland havo 
 been deprived of civil rights and their religious free- 
 dom. One act of oppression followedin such quick 
 sucee9si(m upon another, all growing out of these 
 incredible revelations, that it would be dilfieult to 
 record them. Not only was human life offered up 
 a sacrifice to this infamous story of a vile man, but 
 it is an historic fact that the spirit of bigotry and 
 prejudice of that day still pervade the national 
 policy of England. 
 
 After ejecting the rightful heir from the throne of 
 England, the parliament proceeded to enact laws 
 restricting the liberty of speech and the freedom of 
 religious opinion to an extent before unknown to 
 the civilized world. Pains and ijcnalties, sacrifices 
 of life and property were the order of the day, and 
 Ireland was ground to the very dust for no other 
 reason than that her people, while loyal to the gov- 
 ernment, were yet independent in thought, and 
 conscientious in their duty to their Maker. 
 
 The Test Acts of 1662 were of such a character 
 that no freeman could tolerate them, and no govern- 
 ment but a government of fraud could pass them. 
 Although somewhat modified, the statute books of 
 England are still tarnished by enactments against a 
 large portion of her subjects well calculated to 
 stimulate opposition, if not rebellion, against the 
 government. 
 
 The memorable appeal of Charles Phillips on be- 
 half of his countrymen, in a petition to parliament 
 for a redress of grievances, is worthy of remem- 
 brance, and should reawaken the sp'rit of retribu- 
 tion for long inflicted wrongs. He said : — 
 
 ' We have sustained the power which spumed us ; • 
 we have nerved the arm which smote us ; we have 
 lavished our strength, our talent, and our treasures, 
 and buoyed up, on the prodigal effusion of our 
 young blood, the triumphant Ark op Bkitish 
 Liberty. 
 
 We approach, then, with confidence, an enlight- 
 ened legislature ; in the name of Nature, we ask 
 our rights as men ; in the name of the Constitution, 
 we ask our privileges as subjects ; in the name of 
 God, we ask the sacred protection of unpersecuted 
 piety as Christians. 
 
 Are securities required of us ? We offer them — 
 the best securities a throne can have — the affections 
 of a people. We offer faith that was never violated, 
 hearts that were never corrupted, valor that never 
 crouched. Every hour of peril has proved our alle- 
 giance, and every field of Europe exhibits its ex- 
 ample. 
 
 We abjure all temporal authority, except that of 
 our Sovereign ; we acknowledge no civil pre-emi- 
 nence, save that of our constitution ; and, for our 
 lavish and voluntary expenditure, we only ask a 
 reciprocity of benefits. 
 
 In behalf, then, of five millions of a brave and 
 loyal people, we call upon the legislature, to anni- 
 hilate the odious bondage which bows down the 
 mental, physical, and moral energies of Ireland ; 
 and, in the name of that Gospel which breathes 
 charity towards all, we seek freedom of conscience 
 for all the inhabitants of the British empire.' • 
 
 It is difficult to see how such an appeal in the 
 name and on behalf of justice could be refused. In 
 the words of the author of this appeal to the parlia- 
 ment of Great Britain, ' truth is omnipotent and 
 must prevail ; it forces its way with the fire and the 
 precision of the morning sunbeam. Vapors jnay 
 impede the infancy of its progress, but the very 
 sistanee that would check, only condenses and con- 
 centrates it, until at length it goes forth in the ful- 
 ness of its meridian, all life, and lustre, the minutest 
 object visible in its refulgence.' Placing full faith 
 in the power of truth and justice, the patriot may 
 
220 
 
 IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 still hope for the future of Ireland. The dny of lib- 1 
 erty will yet dawn upon her people, and the events ! 
 to whiih reference was niat'c' in the opening of this ; 
 article prove that that day is not far distant. I 
 
 liut it may be said that the periods alluded to arc j 
 remote, and that Ireland has since been treated with I 
 more consideration by the government. | 
 
 In reply to this, it is only necessary to remark, | 
 that although some of the early enactments against 
 Ireland by the Ilritish government have been modi- , 
 lied, still enough remains to justify renewed ell'orts 
 on the part of that people to obtain their nation- 
 ality, and the question of repeal should be again j 
 opened in the most effective and practicable form, j 
 Smith U'Urien, in a speech in parliament, as lute 
 as 1843, on his motion for a committee of inquiry 
 on the state of Ireland, proved ttmt in the distribu- 
 tion of high olticial nppointn\ents in Ireland, twenty- 
 seven in every thirty ortices were given to English 
 or Scotchmen ; in the minor grades, connected with 
 c.veise or customs in Ireland, thirty-six in every 
 thirty-seven were English or Scotchmen ; that in 
 the distribution o! church incomes, the Protestant 
 hierarchy enjoyed annual millions from the soil, 
 while the Catholic hierarchy depended upon the 
 support of the people ; that in the franchise of the 
 people, and the number of their representatives, 
 England, with si.vtcen millions of population, was 
 represented in the House of Commons by live hun- 
 dred and eight members, while Ireland with nearly 
 nine millions, passed but one hundred and five mem- 
 bers ; that Ireland contributed full four millions 
 annually of net revenue to the support of Englar.d, 
 but in the outlay of that immense sum, not more 
 than a few thousands ever came back ; that while 
 England habitually expended, under the head of 
 naval stores, si.x millions per annum, not more than 
 eight thousand pounds, under that head, were ex- 
 pended in Ireland. 
 
 -\dd to these that most detestible tithe system, 
 the withering blight of which is manifested every- 
 where, not only in its pecuniary effects, but also in 
 its humiliating influence on the minds of a people 
 fully sensible to such monstrous injustice and gross 
 violation of rights inherent in man, and for the free 
 exercise of which he is alone responsible to his God, 
 and you have good cause for revolution. 
 
 The poor laws, the grand jury tax, the wasting 
 absentee drain, and many other impositions of sim- 
 ilar character could be instanced, showing that the 
 English rulers are imposing burdens upon the peo- 
 ple of Ireland, which, in the language of the Saviour, 
 thev themselves would not touch with the end of 
 their little linger. 
 
 Why should this condition of affairs continue in 
 a day of progress like the present ? 'Why should a 
 nation of freemen, struggling for liberty, who are 
 competent in an especial degree to maintain it, be 
 held in subjection : How long shall foreign power 
 be ollowed to crush out the spirit of liberty from 
 the hearts of a people whose valor and patriotism 
 have been displayed on almost every battlefield of [ 
 Europe and America, and who are as competent to 
 guide the affairs of state as they are ready to confer 
 lustre upon its arms • Can any reason be assigned 
 why such a people should not take their place as the 
 integral of an empire, which their bravery has con- 
 tributed to exalt among the greatest on earth ■ 
 
 It is impossible to conceive how England can 
 longer refuse her consent to a separation from the 
 existing unnatural connexion between these two na- 
 tions, that a just and perfect union may be formed, 
 on the basis of local sovereignity and federative 
 equality. The manner and the means of securing 
 the 'independence of Ireland can best be determined 
 by her own people. There is no doubt but that the 
 working classes in England and Scotland would 
 second the movement in favor of municipal self- 
 government and a national confederation, similar to 
 that which is gaining lor our republic the very first 
 
 position among Dotions. A sysicni of government 
 which wo trust is disiincd to bU|icrMilc all others, be- 
 cause it has proved ilie most perfect of any yet de- 
 vised. 
 
 Its intUienre is spreading rapidly over this vast con- 
 tinent, onil the example of our instiiuiions is felt 
 throughout Europe, and what people are better entitled 
 to its bonelils than ihit people who have contributed 
 so much to its prosperity and glory f 
 
 The sympathy of the whole American heart is with 
 them, and truth and justice plead their cause in the 
 name of iDemocrHcy and of freedom, and that plea 
 must he heard and answered. 
 
 Alihougli the martyr Emmet is dead, his spirit still 
 lives. Aliliough the mighty form of the ureal libera- 
 tor O'Connell is seen no more upon the sod of liis na- 
 tive country, its hills aud valleys still echo iu dying 
 words, Itcpeul, Hepeal. Although llie apostles of lib- 
 erty, Mitchell, Meagher, Savage, and others, are wan- 
 dering from their homes and their country, preaching 
 Democracy among their brethren of the New World, 
 tlicir early companion in the cause of their country, the 
 immonal Smith O'Brien, after years of banishment, 
 has returned to his rightful heritage, and his presence 
 will rekindle the smouldering embers of unexpired lib- 
 erty among his countrymen, whose day-st»ir of freedom 
 is now about to rise, and to whom we may truly apply 
 the prophetic aud encouraging words of the poet when 
 he said : — 
 
 ' Weep uoiaore woful shepherds, weep no more, 
 
 For L)'cidius, your sorrow, is not dead, 
 
 Sunk though lie be bcucatL the Hatery floor, 
 
 So siuks the day -star iu the oceau bed, 
 
 And yet aiioii repairs his drooping iiead, 
 
 Aud tricks his beams, aud witli uew spaugled ore 
 
 Flames iu the Iroutward ol tlie moriiiug sliy.' 
 
 FOREIGN INTELLIGENCE. 
 
 IRELAND. 
 
 Pkoohess of Civilization. — The Tipperary Ex- 
 aminer publishes a letter dated Dungarvan, Oct. 16:h, 
 from which the following is an extract : — ' A pleasing 
 and novel scene was presented at the funeral of the late 
 Doctor Quinn, of this town, who was lately buried in 
 the Protestant churchyard. Our parish priest, the 
 Rev. Dr. Hally, walked before the collin, assisted by 
 his curate, the Rev. M. Mooney, and the Rev. Mr. 
 Toomey chanting the buiial serrice. Walking behind 
 the coffin were to be seen, with hats in hand, three 
 Protestant parish ministers, and one Protestant curate. 
 Indeed, it must be remarked with truth that the Prot- 
 estant clergy of this locality for years back have been 
 remarkable lor raildness.Christiancliarity, and freedom 
 from all sectarian bigotry!' 
 
 Address to CaRdi.nal Wiseman. — Cardinal 
 Wiseman has received from the 'chapter of his diocese' 
 a congratulatory address on his return from Iieland. 
 His cniinsncc, in receiving the address, said that his re- 
 cent journey to Ireland had indeed been a source of 
 great gratification to him. He went totally un- 
 prepared for the warm-hearted reception which greeted 
 him everywhere. What gave, however, the most 
 pleasing character to these meetings, was that they 
 were not so much personal demonstrations as manifes- 
 tations of devotion to the church and to its supreme 
 pastor. He could not but hope, he said, that such a 
 demonstration of pure, religious feeling, so easily cli- 
 cited, would prove to all that the Irish people will ever 
 be alive to the claims of their faith upon their energies. 
 
 The Chief SEcnETAnv rou Ireland. — The Lon- 
 don correspondent of the Dublin Evening Post says: 
 •There is a strong rumor that Lord Naas is to be 
 sent to India as Governor of Bombay, in succession 
 to Lord Elphinstone, who has e.xpressed a wish to 
 return to Europe. As the salary is £10,000 a year, 
 it would make the noble lord a comparatively rich 
 man. The object of the government is to remove 
 Lord Xaas from the Chief Secretaryship of Ireland, 
 on account of the sad mess he made of the Dublin 
 Police Bill, and the awful discontent excited by 
 that most wanton and intolerant measure.' 
 
 An Irish lady residing in Paris has bequeathed all 
 her property, including estates in Tipperary, in trust, 
 to accumulate until the rcnn and proceeds of sale are 
 sufficient to endow an hospital in the town of Thurles 
 for the poor of the county who may he allliited by 
 accidents, or incurable, hut not infectious (Ii>ea8cs ; 
 and for the erection, contiguous to the hospital, of an 
 almshouse for poor widows over sixty years of age. 
 This admirnble bequest is unfettered by sectarian pre- 
 judices. The testatrix was a Catholic in the best sense 
 of the term. 
 
 The Irish papers contain an occount of the gi- 
 gantic harvest home on the estate of Mr. PoUok, in 
 the county of Galway. About 1400 persons (only 
 one half of his servants) were libcially entertained 
 m the Home Farm Steading, at I.ismay. The roof 
 covers nearly two acres of land, and the building 
 was lighted with gas. The extent of this gentle- 
 man's operations may be judged by the fact that he 
 has 1800 acres in green crops, and 40U0 of grain, 
 with about 4000 head of cattle. 
 
 Another Ei'iscorAL Meltisc. — A number of 
 ll^Inan Catholic prelates, headed by Primate Dixon, 
 arrived in Dublin, on Tuesday, the 1 0th, and met 
 in council in the course of the afternoon. The sub- 
 ject of deliberation is not even hinted at by the 
 journals in the confidence of the bishops and clergy. 
 Out of doors, however, it is thought not improbable 
 that the question of a charter for the Cullen Uni- 
 versity formed one of the topics of discussion. The 
 episcopal sittings will continue for the greater part 
 of the week. 
 
 Shannon Traxsatlanhic Station. — Limerick, 
 Oct. '21. — The committee has just held a numerous 
 meeting, and a resolution was unanimously adopt- 
 ed, to the effect that the mayor and Messrs. Spaight, 
 M. P., and Russell, M. P., should proceed at once 
 to London, to have an interview,, by appointment, 
 on Saturday, with Mr. Cunard, on the subject of 
 the Shannon Transatlantic Packet Station. The 
 deputation proceeds this afternoon to London. — 
 [Limerick Reporter. 
 
 The command of the Irish constabulary force has 
 been conferred upon Major Brownrigg, who, for 
 many years filled the oftice of deputy inspector gen- 
 eral. The salary henceforward is to be £1300 in- 
 stead of £1500 per annum, the £200 being granted 
 to Sir Duncan M'Grcgor, in consideration of his 
 long services. 
 
 In the next session of Parliament a demand will 
 be made for a charter for the Roman Catholic Uni- 
 versity in St. Stephen's-green, Dublin, and it is 
 said that a portion at least of the ministers are in 
 favor of granting the charter, so as to enable the 
 institution to confer degrees to the same extent as 
 Trinity College. 
 
 Somewhat more than two hundred years ago, 
 namely, June 17th, llJ3t, William Wiseman, Esq., 
 an immediate ancestor of Cardinal Wiseman, was 
 elected M. P. for Bandon-bridge, perhaps the most 
 strongly Protestant constituency in the south of 
 Ireland. 
 
 It is stated that the government have decided 
 upon construeing a harbor at Galway, capable of 
 accommodating the new trans- Atlantic iralKc whit h 
 is being developed by the new line of steamers be- 
 tween that port and America. The preliminary 
 measures are in progress. 
 
 At a meeting of gentlemen connected with the 
 press and paper manufacture, held at the Uoyal 
 Irish Institution, Dublin, on the 20th, an associa- 
 tion was formed in Ireland for the purpose of pro- 
 curing a repeal of the paper duties. 
 
 The general manager of the Galway Atlantic 
 Steam Company states that arrangements are in 
 progress to insure to the public communication be- 
 tween London and New York in six days. 
 
 Mr. ond Mrs. Barney Williams are filling a most 
 successful engagement in Belfast. 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 221 
 
 Jlr. Koebiick, M. P., visited the National 
 Schools, Marlborough street, Dublin, on Monday, 
 accompanied by the attorney-general and Jlrs. 
 "Whiteside. 
 
 A detachment of marines has been sent to Sheerness 
 to maintain order while the Nortli Cork rifles remain 
 there. Tlie feeling of the inhabitants afjamst these 
 men is very strong. 
 
 Mk. MCobmick, the Irish railway contractor, has 
 been declared contractor for the now docks at Bir- 
 kenhead, at a sum exceeding a million and a half ster- 
 ling. 
 
 The death of the Irish giant Murphy, who some 
 years ago exhibited at Paris, has just taken place at 
 Alkmar, in Holland. 
 
 The Duke of Devonshire is going to dispose of 
 his extensive estates in the south of Ireland, reserv- 
 ing only the Lismore and Bandon properties. 
 
 The Earl of Eglinton is entertaining a numerous 
 party at the viceregal lodge, in the Phoenix Park. 
 
 Sxow fell in Belfast, on Monday, the 18th. 
 
 MISCELL.VNEOUS NEWS. 
 
 Recrcitixg sf THE ENGLISH Aemy. — In the 
 twelve months ending on the 31st of March last (or 
 rather in the last eight months of that period) there 
 were enlisted in the ten recruiting districts of Great 
 Britain and Ireland no fewer than 57,554 men, of 
 whom 42,899 were ultimately approved and draughted 
 into the ranks of the army. Of the entire number of 
 enlistments Ireland furnished about 16,000. Scotland 
 gave a proportion of 24.50 per million, while Ireland 
 gave 19S5, and England 1960. The whole number of 
 recruits obtaiaed from Wales was but 553. Oat of 
 the general total 32,000 liad resided previously to en- 
 listment in large towns, and 23,000 in the country. 
 Only 8000 manufacturers proper .ire said to have been 
 enrolled, while the husbandmen, laborers, and servants 
 amounted to 32,000 ; and of operatives engaged in 
 occupations ' favorable to physical development' as 
 many as 14,000. Of the districts, London and Liver- 
 pool were the most productive, but York takes the lead 
 in other respects. In no district did the approvals 
 bear so large proportion to the inspections. Taking 
 into account the levies for the militia, provided for by 
 a separate machinery, and the raised for the household 
 troops, horse and foot, as well as for the royal marines, 
 which to do their own recruiting, it may be said that 
 there have been and can be raised in this country about 
 100,000 soldiers a year by the system of voluntary re- 
 cruiting. — [English Paper. 
 
 The Alleged Deserter to the Russians. — Pri- 
 vate Thomas Tole, 7th Royal Fusileers, appeared on 
 Tuesday, the 19th, in the general court-martial 
 room, at Chatham, to take his trial on a charge of de- 
 serting to the enemy when he was before Sebastopol, 
 about the 14th of January, 1855. From some cause, 
 which did not transpire, the prisoner was not tried. 
 It is understood that there is no evidence to prove 
 that Tole deserted at all. It can be proved that he 
 left the camp, which was on the right attack,in front 
 of the redoubt, one morning between nine and ten 
 o'clock, about the 14th or loth of January, 1855, 
 with a comrade, named Moore, for the purpose of 
 getting some fuel to cook with, and they proceeded 
 to the ravine under the heights of Inkerman, and 
 neither of them came back again, but they were 
 seen, as prisoners-of-war, in Sebastopol, by some 
 prisoners of the 23d Royal Welsh Fusileers. After- 
 wards, Tole, with others, were sent to St. Peters- 
 burg, and upon an exchange of prisoners which 
 took place, Tole refused to be so exchanged. The 
 prisoner was sent back to await the result of the 
 opinion at the Horse-Guards, and the course to 
 be pursued against him by the Commander-in- 
 Chief. 
 
 A trial of a new plan of surveying has been made 
 at Longchamp, in the Bois de Boulogne, in the pres- 
 ence of the Emperor Napoleon. The plan is the in- 
 vention of a Belgian. 
 
 It is stated that a project is on foot for the estab- 
 lishment of telegraphic communicauon between Europe 
 and America, via th>3 Russian posses'iions — A corres- 
 pondent of the New Prussian Gazectto says : — 
 
 ' From Portland, at the mouth of the Columbia, in 
 the Pacific, to Moscow, is only 2000 miles, which is 
 not a very great distance when it is considered that in 
 America the lines extended to 7000. The letter states 
 positively that this project will bo carried into effect. 
 We have reason to believe that the line of telegraph 
 from St. Petersburg to Moscow will be extended to 
 Kiachkta, by which news might be received from Pekin 
 in a week. Should this be done, all the nations who 
 have relations with China will be forcrd to have re- 
 course to this line, as being the shortest means of com- 
 munication.' 
 
 Queen Victoria — sensible woman that she is — trou- 
 bles herself, personally, very little about ' the cares of 
 state.' She and the court still linger in the Highlands 
 of Scotland, at Balmoral, where nearly all the celebri- 
 ties of the British court, masculine as well as feminine, 
 are at present assembled. The Irish editors express a 
 conviction that it would do her most gracious majesty 
 no particular harm to pay another visit to ' the ould 
 sod.' They say the Irish, as a people, are just as 
 loyal as the Scotch— to the crown — and if their attach- 
 ment to Protestantism is not so general nor so sincere, 
 as that of the Presbyterians there, het majesty's favor- 
 ing the one and slighting the other is not calculated to 
 multiply converts. 
 
 Since the above was in type, we learn that the queen 
 has returned from Balmoral. 
 
 In the destruction by fire of that venerable building, 
 the Antwerp Exchange, the crash of the iron-work and 
 glass of the matchless cupalo was a main feature in the 
 catastrophe — it was heard six miles off. The roof meas- 
 ured iifty-three yards, and m its construction 1,400,000 
 pounds of iron and 600,000 pounds of glass were used, 
 the whole mass being supported by twelve cast-iron 
 pillars fixed against the walls. The cost of its erec- 
 tion was il 8,400. The Bourse stood in the very cen- 
 ter of Antwerp. It was built at the dawn of the re- 
 formation in 1531, and in it, for a considerable time, 
 a large portion of the trade of the world was carried 
 on. 
 
 NiCARAGDA. — According to report the French and 
 English ministers have addressed a note to Mr. Cass, 
 announcing their resolve to support the provisions of 
 the Clayton-Bulwer treaty in its application to the 
 grant of the Nicaragua government to Mr. Felix Bel- 
 ley for a ship canal. That treaty is still in force, and 
 guarantees the neutrality of the Isthmus. An Eng- 
 lish and French fleet, as is well known, has been or- 
 dered to Nicaragua, but we are not prepared to be- 
 lieve that European nations are prepared to make a 
 strike for Central America. They have work enough 
 at home. 
 
 Railwat Mania in Russia. — For some months 
 past there has prevailed in St. Petersburg and all Rus- 
 sia a perfect railway mania, which has assumed all the 
 features of the intatuation which ruled in England 
 under the reign of King Hudson. The attention of 
 Europ_e has, strange to say, not been directed to this 
 phenomenon, of which the last scene has not yet been 
 enacted. The mania has, as was the case in England, 
 for chief promoters, sharp, energetic men of business 
 (their names figure in all the schemes, including that 
 of the company connected with the Villafrancra ques- 
 tion), and for principal instigator8,the aristocracy of the 
 land. 
 
 The Australian advices contain two interesting items, 
 one of which is, however, disagreeable. The labor 
 market is in a very unsa'isfactory state. The railway 
 works cannot absorb one-tenib of the unemployed ; 
 and with such a large surplus of ' hands' looking for 
 engagements, men who are fortunate enough to obtain 
 work are, says the Melbourne Arpua, ' treated with 
 but little consideration, and receive less pay than was 
 expected." Mr. Nicliol.soii has rciurucd to Victoria, 
 and been started as a candidate for the representation 
 of South Melbourne in the Legislative Assembly. 
 
 Extraordinary Elopembnt in Yorkshire. — The 
 New York Herald details the circumstances of the re- 
 ported elopement with her father's groom of a young 
 lady belonging to the East Riding, tlie daughter of a 
 banker who is deputy-licutciiant of the county, and, in 
 her own right, possessed of £10,000. Determined not 
 to marry a widower, with a small family, for whom she 
 was destined by her parents, the young lady, who is 
 about 23 years of iige, left home on Wednesday, the 
 13ih, on horseback. At Beverley she left her steed, 
 and, with the groom, proceeded in a chaise to London. 
 She has not yet been discovered. 
 
 A few days ago (says a Munich letter) a female 
 fainted in one of the streets of this city. An elderly 
 gentleman who approached the spot where she was 
 lying, requested some of the persons present to go and 
 fetch a medical man. They all replied that thev knew 
 not where to find one. ' Well,' said he, ' I will go 
 myself,' and in a few' minutes he returned with a 
 doctor, who applied the proper remedies to the poor 
 woman. The kind-hearted old gentleman was King 
 Louis of Bavaria. 
 
 Chess. — A letter has been received from Mr. An- 
 dersen, one of the best players in Germany, and the 
 victor in the chess tournament held in London the 
 year of the Great Exhibition, stating that he will 
 pass his Christmas holidays in Paris to contend with 
 Mr. Morphy. He intends arriving in the French 
 capit al about the 18th of December, and will remain 
 a fortnight. It is not, however, certain that the 
 young American player can remain in Paris so late 
 in the year. 
 
 Three Russian ships, the Retwisom, of 84 guns, 
 and two sloops, are likely to winter in the Bay of 
 Villafranca. French and Russian vessels of war will 
 also pass the winter at Gravosa, and that to the 
 great disgust of the Austrians. 
 
 The Mayor of Strasburg has ordered that all noisy 
 occupations, such as those of blacksmith, farrier, 
 locksmith, ^brazier, &c., shall only be exercised in 
 closed shops, and not before five in the morning or 
 later than eight at night. 
 
 A fire broke out the other day in Stirling Castle, 
 but was extinguished before the damage amounted 
 to more than between £300 and £400. The fire 
 originated on the south side of the quadrangle par- 
 tially erected by James V., in 1540, and finished by 
 Mary of Guise, in 1552. 
 
 It is rumored that next spring their Majesties, the 
 Emperor and Empress of the French, will make a 
 tour in Italy, and 'pay a visit to the king of Pied- 
 mont and the Pope. 
 
 The Prussian historian Ranke is now at Venice, 
 engaged in collecting, in the archives of the repub- 
 lic, materials relating to the history of England dur- 
 ing the last three centuries. 
 
 It is rumored, says the Edingburgh Express, that 
 the whole effects of a certain noble Scotch earl have 
 just been arrested for debt, but at present we do not 
 feel at liberty to particularise. 
 
 A Russian general has been killed while leading 
 his men to an attack against the Circassians. An 
 order of the day points to his glorious death as an 
 example to the Russian army. 
 
 Accounts received from Algiers by the French 
 government announce that the empire of Morocco is 
 in a state of great disorganization and anarchy. 
 
 M. de Lesseps tells the Marseilles papers that with 
 fresh water he can construct ihe Suez canal in a year, 
 as a maratirne canal in six vears. 
 
 Later from Ireland. — The Galway steamer Cir- 
 cassian arrived at St. Johns, N. F., on Friday eve- 
 ning, 5th inst. She brings 300 passengers for New 
 York. 
 
 The Daily News says the Atlantic Steam Com- 
 pany, Galway line, received by the City of Wash- 
 ington applications for £50,000 stock, which, added 
 to the subscriptions already made, exceeds the re- 
 quired capital. 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 CALWAV ITEMS. 
 Wo flip the following piirngraphg from the ObI- 
 way Vindicator: — 
 
 TlIK AI!t;LMEXTLJl AD IIACl'LUM. 
 
 • Mji-elf mid ray bll ofu (.thick. '—Oi.n .'<o>o. 
 
 ' I.vatlier nway the n Imltle, oh!'— Older So.to. 
 MoN I'KRK— I hnvt rfttd of that hickory Bull, 
 Tliai wa> rriit ruu IVoni llo^tun by ('cltic U'Netll, 
 And licartily hopt* it may atld to your ^tamilm 
 lu dt-alinK with iiivti, who. the Council contaiuiiia- 
 Tc— and occasion'ly put on >our humor — 
 Till your big tieart »wcltii uji— a llcrcc muscular tumor— 
 And your words become TiiixoR that will threah llko old 
 
 hickory, 
 In the liandM of a Yankee, when golngto Ihjuor, he 
 I.:i\8 all ubuut with his »tick or rctolver, 
 And utroichv.* or shoot< men— the d— d unab»olv«r. 
 
 MoH I'KKE- If the TiSfi-3< shows us moiv ."Saxon sneering. 
 Or PLNCii— Krinninn I'unch— hould approach to your 
 
 mturini;, 
 Or the M*IL dl.'ploy typical symptoms to kick 
 'Uaiust your will— Just exhibit your hickory stick. 
 
 If the Premier, doulitini; your commercial purity, 
 Should fail 10 advance on your person'l security. 
 Or Lord Kgliuton play any old fastle trick, 
 Junt poke them both up with your hickorx slick. 
 
 If at home any Councillors, fiidRy and gawky. 
 Should di.'oboy orderji. or bore ye, or talk ye 
 Outot temiierortime — scud them all to old Nick- 
 And give them a uint w ith your hickory stick. 
 
 Kulc the roast, with those praling muuicipul snobs. 
 
 In Intellect— fellows like all other mobs— 
 
 And if D— s, or T— y. or S— n«. should kick 
 
 'Oainst their master— just show them your hickory stick. 
 
 Hurrah for tialway, let's fling up our beaver 
 For lloston's stout hickory— Daly and Lever — 
 And all who gainsay it. just hit them a lick, 
 And aiinoint them all or with your hickory stick. 
 
 Mr. P. A, Fynn— 'Tis now you'll make us all be- 
 have ournolvp.s (laURhtcr). 
 
 Father l):ily — 'lake care that yourself wouldn't 
 be the first to got a taste of it (gnat luughtor). 
 
 Mr. Stephens — I hope you won't have any occa- 
 sion tn use it. 
 
 Father Dnly — Let you not deserve it, and you 
 won't feel the weight of it (hiURhtcr), 
 
 The Chairman — It was well you didn't get the 
 stick before your interview with Mr. MuUins in ' 
 Dublin. I 
 
 Father Daly — AVoll, I am as well plca.icd I didn't, 
 for I ini<;ht commit manslaughter; the sight of it 
 alone would be enough to kill him (great laughter.) 
 
 The Vindicator says, in speaking of the Pacific, i 
 which arrived at New York, recently, ' We have | 
 the satisfaction of being ciiobled to state thitt yes- r 
 terday afternoon, every berth on board the Pacific, I 
 first, second, and third class, was filled up, even 
 the sofas, and it was found necessary, in order to 
 prevent- diKippointment, to telegraph to the several 
 agents through the kingdom not to take any more. 
 
 Advantages to Galwat. — We mentioned in the 
 last Vindicator the large expenditure of money in 
 Gahvay, consequent ou the sailing of the Indian 
 Empire, and we have now to state that a very large 
 further portion of the • circulating medium ' is like- 
 ly to find its way among our townsfolk and neigh- 
 bors in this resuscitated old kingdom of Connauglit. 
 It will be seen in our report of the proceedings at 
 the Harbor Board yesterday, that an order for £50 
 worth of woolen fabrics, of the manufacture of Con- 
 ncraara, has been sent by Mr. O'Neill, Boston, to 
 Father Daly. We are in a position further to state 
 that an order has been received by our very deserving 
 and enterprising townsman, Mr. Jo.seph Roche, of 
 Shop street, for Irish manufactured goods to the 
 value of upwards £800, from one of the first com- 
 mercial houses in Boston, to be sent as soon as they 
 can be got ready in one of the Lever steamers. The 
 reference of the house sending the order was to the 
 great firm of Baring & Co., London. The goods 
 ordered, with the exception of blankets, which will 
 be had from Kilkenny, will be all of Connaught 
 manufacture. I'licy consist chiefly of Irish frieze 
 stockings and hosiery in large quantitie.s,bed-tickcn, 
 and coarse linen, termed hi-re • handle cloth.' This 
 is the way we go ahead in the old country. 
 
 Meetixo of the IIakbok Commissio.ners. — At a 
 meeting of this body, the following allusion was 
 made in relation to the presentation of an American 
 hickory stick to Father Daly : — 
 
 Father Daly — However inadequate my expression 
 of acknowledgment may be, 1 hope Mr. O'Neill will 
 accept it as the indication of my feelings. To your- 
 self, Captain Thatcher, I need not say what I feel, 
 but I will scarcely give you any thanks, for I look 
 upon you as so intimate a friend of mine now, and 
 so thoroughly and successfully identified with this 
 great project that we are all so much interested in, 
 that I look upon it almost as a matter of duty on 
 your part to fulfill any commission that would pay 
 a. compliment to me (hear and laughter.) But let 
 me say, in perfect seriousness, that I feel very much 
 obliged to you, indeed. Captain Thatcher, and I 
 hope you may win many laurels in youi profession 
 (cheers). 
 
 Hymn of the Marseillaise. — The Marseillaise 
 was inspired by genius, patriotism, youth, beauty, 
 and champaigne. Rouget de Lisle was an oiiiccr of j 
 the garrison at Strasburg, and a native of Mount 
 Jura. He was an. unknown poet and composer. 
 He had a peasant friend, named Dictrick, whose 
 wife and daughters were the only critics and ad- 
 mirers of the soldier poet's song. One night he was 
 at supper with his friend's family, and they had on- 
 ly coarse bi'cad and slices of ham. Dietrick, look- 
 ing sorrowfully at Dc Lisle, said, ' Plenty is not 
 our feast, but we have the courage of a soldier's 
 heart, I liavc still one bottle left in the cellar — 
 bring it, my daughter, and let us drink to liberty 
 and our country.' 
 
 The young girl brought the bottle ; it was soon 
 exhausted, and De Lisle went staggering to bed ; he 
 could not sleep for the cold, but his heart was warm 
 and full of the beaming of gi-nius and patriotism. 
 He took a small davicord and tried to compose a 
 song ; sometimes the words were composed first — 
 sometimes the air. Directly he fell asleep over the 
 instrument, and waking at daylight, wrote down 
 what he had conceived in the delirium of the night. 
 Then he waked the family, and sang his production 
 — at first, the woman turned pale, and then wept, 
 then burst forth in a cry of enthusiasm. It was the 
 song of the nation and of terror. 
 
 Two months afterwards, Dietrick went to the 
 scaffold, listening to the same music, composed un- 
 der his own roof, and under the inspiration of the 
 last bottle of wine. The people sang it every- 
 where ; it flew from city to city, to every public 
 orchestra. Marseilles adopted the song at the open- 
 ing and close of its clubs— hence the name ' Hymn 
 of the Marseillaise ;' then it sped all over France. 
 They sung it in their houses, in public assemblies, 
 and in the stormy street convocation. De Lisle's 
 mother hearing it said to her son — ' What.^s this 
 revolutionary hymn sung by bands of brigands, and 
 with which your name is mingled r' De Lilse 
 heard it and shuddered as it sounded through the 
 streets of Paris rung from the Alpine passes, while 
 he, a royalist, fled from the infuriated people, 
 frenzied by his own words. There is no national 
 air that will compare with the Marseillaise in sub- 
 limity and power ; it embraces the soft cadences 
 full of the peasant's home, and the stormy clangor 
 of silver and steel when an empire is overthrown ; 
 it endears the memory of the vine dresser's cottage, 
 and makes the Frenchman, in his exile, cry, ' La 
 belle France !' forgetful of the torch and swoid,and 
 guillotine, which have made his country a spectre 
 of blood in the eyes of the nations. Nor can the 
 foreigners listen to it sung bj a company of exiles, 
 or executed by a band of musicians, without feel- 
 ing that it is the pibroach of battle and war. 
 
 VARIOUS ITEMS. 
 
 A YotJNO physician asked permission of a lady to 
 kiss her, she replied, ' No, sir, I never like to have 
 a doctor's bill thrust in my face.' 
 
 A OERTAiN Judge, after hearing a florid discourse 
 from n young lawyer, sdviscd him to pluck out 
 some feathers from the wings of imagination, and 
 put them in the tail of his judgment. 
 
 An editor acknowledges the receipt of a bottle of 
 brandy forty-eight years old, and says. 'That brandy 
 is so old that we arc very much afraid it cannot live 
 much longer. 
 
 Pretty Larcf.ncy. — A lady's maid hooked one 
 of the best of her mistress's dresses the other day, 
 but the nffuir was passed over, because it was done 
 behind the lady's back — so there was nobody to tes- 
 tify to fhe fact. 
 
 A Staof. Apology'. — The following apology was 
 lately made from a stage in Sunderland ; ' Ladies 
 and gentlemen, I hope you will excuse our perform- 
 ance, but our violinist is in a state of beastly intox- 
 ication ; the pianist is doing his best, but fourteen 
 or sixteen strings of the piano are broken.' 
 
 Fortunkr made in no time, are like shins made in 
 time — ten to one, they don't hang together. 
 
 Swell, 'Haw ! is there anything weary for dinner ■> ' 
 — Waiter, ' Shoulder of mutton just ready, sir.' — 
 Swell. ' Haw ! — shouldaw of mutton ! — aw — what a 
 vcwy odd thing lor dinuavv ! lliou.ht they only made 
 glue of shouUlaw of mutton !' 
 
 A Scotch duchess was examining the children of 
 one of htr charily schools, when tlieiCHciicr put ilie ques- 
 tion — ' What is llic wife of a king called ? ' — A queen,' 
 bawled out one of the scholars. ' The wife of an em- 
 peror ? '— ' An empress,' was replied, with equal reani- 
 ness. ' Then what is the wife of a duke called ? ' — A 
 drake! ' exclaimed several voices, mistaking the title 
 duke for the biped duck, which they pronoHOCcd the 
 same. 
 
 An impatient Welchman called to his wife, 'Come, 
 come, isn't breakfast ready ■? I've had nothing since 
 yesterday, and to morrow will be the third day V This is 
 equal to the call of" the stirring hotisewifo, who aroused 
 her maid at four o'clock, wiih ' Come B idgct, get up! 
 Here 'lis Monday morning ; to-morrows Tuesday, 
 next day's Wednesday — half llie week gone — and 
 nothing done yet.' 
 
 ' DocTon,' said an old lady, the other day to her 
 family physician, ' kin you tell me how it is that some 
 folks is born dumb ?' ' Why, hem ! why, certainly, 
 madam,' replied the docior, ' it is owing to the (act 
 that they came into the world without the power of 
 speech.' ' La me !' remarked the old lady, ' now jest 
 see what it is to have a phisical cdicaiion. I've asked 
 my old man more nor a hundred times, that ere same 
 ihing, and all I could ever get out of him was ' kase 
 tlicy is. ' Well, I am glad I asked you, for I never 
 should have died satisfied without knowing it.' 
 
 ' One of those ' blasted English muffs, yo kno,' 
 came over into • the states, the other day, from Cana- 
 da. He took lodgings at an inn, in a boarding vil- 
 lage which shall be nameless. He had dinner; and 
 among those who sat at the table with him, was the 
 waiting maid, whom he designated as ' servant ;' but 
 he received an indignant correction from the lundlord: 
 We call our servants, sir. Helps. They are not op- 
 pressed : they are not Russian scurfs.' ' AH right,' 
 said the ' bloody Britisher :' ' I shall remember ' And 
 he did : for in the morning he awoke the whole .house, 
 by culling out at he top of his \ oice, » liicli was like the 
 tearing of a strong rag. ' Help ! help — water ! water !' 
 In an instant every person equal to the task rushed 
 into his room with a pail of water. ' I am much 
 obliged to you, I am sure,, he said : 'but I don't want 
 i so much water, ye kno' — I only want enough to shave 
 with!' ' Shave with ! said the landlord; 'what did 
 you mean by calling ' Help ! water ! We thought the 
 house was a fire.' ' Tou told me to call the servants 
 ' Help,' and I did : did you think I would cry water, 
 whent I meant fire ? ' The explanaiioo; ic would 
 seem, was satisfactory.' 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 223 
 
 SUBSCRIBE! SUBSCKIBE! SUBSCRIBE! 
 THE I H I SH MISCELLANY 
 
 iNDtJOEMKNTS TO IsEW SaBSClUBlCRS. 
 
 OUR NEW VOLUME, 
 
 Having favorably comincTicerl ttie second volume of our 
 publication, \ve seize the occasion lor the purpose of ten- 
 dering thanks to those of our friends who have so generous* 
 ly contributed to our i-upport. To start, and successt\illy 
 carry ou au ordinary newspaper, so that it will, in a rea- 
 eouable space of time, become remunerative to its proprie- 
 tors, is a task not easily accomplislicd, and which consum- 
 mation does not generally happen iu one case out o( a hun- 
 dred. Our enterprise, being of a nature entirely dilferent 
 tVoni that of any otlier Irish paper heretofore established 
 in this country— requiring a much greater expenditure ol 
 capital and artistic talent— caused us serious misgivings, 
 and n constant fear that it would not meet the desires and 
 expectations of our patrons. How far ourefTorts have been 
 suecessthl, is for them to decide; 'but we trust that it will 
 not be considered egotistical ou our part wlien we assert 
 that the Miscellany has far exceeded the most sanguine ex- 
 pectations of partial friends, and that even those who have 
 been enemies from the staii have made suitable acknowl- 
 edgment of its merit. 
 
 Since we have had the control of the Miscellany our way 
 has not been— 
 
 *The primrose path of dalliance ' 
 
 We have been beset by obstacles innumerable; but having 
 a strong contidence in our ultimate success, we were deter- 
 mined to surmount all barriers, and though we have not, 
 as yet, brought the paper to that pitch of perfection which 
 is our desire, we trust soon to make it as acceptable as is 
 possible to our readers. 
 
 In beginning a new volume, we introduce various inno- 
 vations, tending to the improvement of the paper, in 
 every way that is possible. We shall give each week, an 
 epitome of Irish news — not the hacknied looal quotations 
 which interest only the few, but extracts from the leading 
 journals, which will be gratifying to the many. In this 
 respect, we will not be following in the steps of any of our 
 contemporaries, but, on the contrary, will be striking out 
 a path eminently our own. It will also be our aim to give 
 the best class of wood engravings which can be procured, 
 portraying national subjects, and, as our outlay in this re- 
 spect will be infinitely largerthan that of any Irish journal 
 published iu this country, we look for a commensurate re- 
 turn. In short, iJ is our intention to make the paper meet 
 the requirements of all classes of readers. 
 
 As an inducement, therefore, to new subscribers, we offer 
 to each person who will pay one years' subscription in ad- 
 vance, commencing with the first number of the PiRST 
 volume, (not the second, as inadvertantly stated in previous 
 numbers,) directly to us or through any of our authorized 
 local or travelling agents, a copy of our first Gifl Picture, 
 representing Sarsfield's Surprise of the Seige Train of the 
 Prince of Orange. When completed, each volume of the 
 Miscellany will form a book of four hundred and six- 
 teen (416) pages, and will alone be worth the price of an 
 entire year's subscription. The same inducements are offer- 
 ad to clubs, as to single subscribers. 
 
 CLUBS! CLUBS!! CLUBS!!! 
 
 There is no town or vilKige so small, but a club of six or 
 more subscribers for the Irish Miscellany can bo easily ob- 
 tained. Will those of our friends who are well-wishers oi 
 the land of their birth, do us the favor of getting up Clubs. 
 Our terms will be — 
 To a club ofsi.x persons sent to one address, 3flO,00 
 
 To a club of twelve, 19.00 
 
 The whole of the money must invariably be sent at one 
 remittance, and in advance. 
 
 In addition to this great reduction of price, each member 
 of a Club will be entitled to copies of all our splendid Gift 
 Pictures. Let our friends exert themselves, and by their 
 patronage make the 3Iiscellany the foremost Irish jourua 
 ou this continent. 
 
 TRAVELLING AGENTS WANTED. 
 
 We have determined to appoint a number of Travelling 
 Agents, to travel in the various States of the Union and 
 canvass for subscribers for this paper We do this at the 
 earnest request of many warm friends, who think we do 
 not take the requisite steps to make the paper known as ex- 
 tensively as it ought to be. 
 
 Persons desirous of becoming Travelling Agents, who 
 can be well recommended, are refjuested to apply at our 
 office forthwith. None but faithful, reliable men need up 
 ply. To such a liberal commission will be allowed. Apply 
 at our Publication Oflice, 4 Water street, Boston. 
 
 Back Number.'? of ihe Miscellany, from the commence 
 mentofthe paper, may be procured through any of our 
 regular agents, or by sending direct to the office of publi 
 cation, No. 4 Water street, Boston. Will our irieuds iu 
 waDt bear this fact in mind ? 
 
 ADVERTISEMENTS. 
 
 MERCANTILE AND WRITING SCHOOL, 
 
 E. J. GLEESON, Mastek. 
 
 This School is now opencil at No. 'Ji3 I'oktland Street, 
 a few doors south of Dootey's Kxelinnge Hotel, where a 
 select and limited number of the Voulli of both sexes will 
 be admitted ; time from 9 A. 31. to 12 M.. and from 2 P. M 
 to G P. M. 
 
 TERMS MODEHA TE. 
 
 EVENING SCHOOL! 
 
 Tbis EChool will be opened in tlie ^iinie place on tbe first 
 evening of next montli, where adults and those of riper 
 years, will be carefully and ass^iduously instructed in the 
 various brauches of learning-, suitable to their calling. 
 
 BOOK-KEEriNG : 
 
 Mr. Gleeson ventures to say, and pledges himself without 
 hesitation, that he will qualify young gentlemen for the 
 Counting Room, in half the time that is consumed in simi- 
 lar institutious iu this city, and at considerable less ex- 
 pense. 
 
 August 17th, 1858. aug2S 
 
 FINE READY MADE CLOTHING 
 
 SPEmG OVERCOATS, 
 
 BUSINESS COATS, 
 
 FKOCK AND DEESS COATS, 
 
 PANTS AND VESTS, 
 Good, Stylish, Well Made Garments, 
 Such as men of taste and good judgment will wear, can at 
 all times be found at our store. 
 Our aim is to produce for our customers the best Ready 
 Made Garments at the lowest possible pkioes for 
 CASH. 
 
 Readers of tliis Journal are earnestly solicited to exam- 
 ine our goods before purchasing. 
 
 J W . S M I T H & C 0., 
 
 Dock Squaee, coenek Elm Stkeet. 
 myll ' tf 
 
 CATHOLIC BOOK STORE. 
 
 WILLIAM HICIiEY, Catholic Bookseller, and Agent 
 for the Extensive rublishing House of D. & J. 
 Sadlier & Co., of New York. 
 The latest and most varied stock of Religious Prints, 
 MISSALS, PRAYER BOOKS, CROSSES, 
 and all the Current Literature, constantly on band. 
 
 No. 128 Fedehai, (corner op Williams) street, 
 BOSTON, MASS. 
 
 P . MORRIS, 
 
 APOTHSCARY, 
 
 Corner of Federal and Purchase sireets, foot of Summer 
 
 street, Boston. 
 
 STRICT personal attention paid to compoundiDg Physi 
 clan's Presci-iptioiis. A choice selection of Family 
 Medicines constantly on hand. A w^ell selected stock of 
 genuine imported Perfumery and Fancy Goods. Soda 
 VVaterwith choice Syrups. A large assortment of genuine 
 Havana Segars constantly ou hand. ap5 
 
 GENERAL TICKET OFFICE 
 
 — FOR THE — 
 
 SOUTHERN AND WESTERN S-T A T E S 
 
 THE CANADAS, 
 No. 2 Albany Street, Boston. 
 
 EDWAJtD RYiVN, Agent. 
 
 N. B.— Passage to and from Liverpool, and Bills of Ex- 
 change on England, Ireland and Scotland. 
 
 ap24 ly 
 
 J. & R. MURPHY, 
 
 manufaotdrers of 
 
 SURGICAL AND DEHTAL INSTRUMENTS, 
 CUTLERY, 
 
 AND STEEL "WORK OF EVERY KIND, 
 No. 3 HARVARD PLACE, (opposite the Old South,) 
 
 Uu..'XOS, Mass. 
 tt^Cutlery and Instruments of all kinds Repaired, 
 ly aug28 
 
 ADVERTISEMENTS. 
 
 THE IRISH VINDICATOR. 
 
 A WEEKLY NEWSPAPER, 
 
 The Best and Cheapest Puhlikiied in America. 
 
 MOST WONDERFUL SUCCESS, 
 
 ond has been pronounced bv the Press and the Public to be 
 
 superior to any other Iiis li Weekly in the United States. 
 
 It contains each week, the very 
 Latest News from every County in Ireland ; 
 Original and entertaining 
 STORIES AND ANECDOTES, 
 and a variety of Miscellaneous Reading matter, of a charac- 
 ter which cannot fail to elevate and chasten the intel- 
 lectual appetite. The Irish Vindicator is devoted 
 
 TO THE INTERESTS OF IRISHMEN IN AMERICA, 
 and is so cheap as to be within the reach of the poorest. 
 
 ONLY THREE CENTS A COPY. 
 
 THE FOLLOWINO ARE TBE TERMS 
 
 To any part of the United States, for one year, S1.60 
 
 I>o- do. do. for 8 months, 1.00 
 
 • Do. do. do. for 4 months, 0.50 
 
 Do. do. do. for 1 month, 0.12 
 
 To any part of Canada or the British Provinces, one year 
 
 S2,00— All payments in advance. ' 
 
 FOR ADVERTISING, 
 
 12 lines, single insertion Sl.CiO | 12 lines, 1 month, »2 50 
 12 do. ^ months, 6.50 | 12 do. 1 year, 16.00 
 
 Published every week, at the Oflice, No 10 Spruce street, 
 New Y'ork, bv the Propi-ietors. 
 
 EDWARD DOVVNES CONNERY & CO. 
 
 New York, march 27 
 
 SOUTH END CATHOLIC BOOK STORE, 
 
 And Depot for the Sale of the 
 
 METROPOLITAN AND YOUTHS' RUGAZINES. 
 
 WILLIAM KEATING, Agent,' 
 
 8 1-2 Harrison Avenue, or at his New Periodical Store, 176 
 
 Harrison Avenue, Boston, Mass., 
 
 Where a great variety of the most popular Books and 
 
 Papers cam be had at the very lowest prices, 
 
 WILL supply Clubs, Agents, Canva.ssers, &c.. on the 
 same terms as the Publishers. The following are 
 the terms— 3 copies will be sent bv mail, to one address lor 
 one year $5; 6 copies for SIO; 13 copies for §20; 20 conies 
 for #30. *^ 
 
 (C?- On the receipt of S3, three copies of the Catholic 
 Y'outh's Magazine and one copy of the Metropolitan will 
 be mailed regularly for one year. 
 
 [[7= A few sets of the Magazines from the beginniuff can 
 be had of the Agent. Also, all new books luruishcd as 
 soon as published. ap24 3mos 
 
 NORTHERN HOUSE, 
 
 WORTH SQUARE — BOSTON. 
 
 JOHN GLANCY Proprietor. 
 
 This House has rooms equal to any first class Hotel, and 
 permanent or transient Boarders can be accommodated 
 nearly one half cheaper than at any other House in the 
 City. 
 
 In the Reading Room can be found all the morning and 
 evening papers, and periodicals of the day, together with 
 an extensive Library, for the free and exclusive use ol 
 the Boarders. 
 
 N. B. Strangers visiting Boston, can always find this 
 House a Home. 
 
 OLD COLONY HOUSE. 
 
 PATRICK HOLLY begs leave to announce to his pat- 
 rons and tlie public generallv that he has constaiitiv 
 ou hand at his old and well-known stand, ^ 
 
 THE OLD COLONY HOUSE, 
 
 CORNER OF KNEELAND AND SOUTH STREETS, 
 A CHOICE ASSORTMENT OF 
 
 BRANDIES, AVINES, SCOTCH & IRISH 
 
 WHISICEY, CIGARS, &c. &c., 
 
 all of the very first quality, which can be obtained too at 
 
 LOWER RATES 
 
 than elsewhere in the market i iu proof ol which he invites 
 purchasers to give him a call. aug28 
 
 FRANCIS GODFREY, 
 iMPORTKi; AM) i;i;.si(ija;i: of 
 
 ITALIAN PAINTINGS, 
 
 AND MANUFACTURER OF GILT FRAMES, 
 
 12 Fkanklix Street, Boston. 
 CT" Engravings, Lithographs, Crayons, &o., on sale. 
 3™ oug28 
 
224 
 
 IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 THE LATE STATE ELECTION. 
 
 The Met of NovcmlitT Kkvu come ; wc Imvo met 
 the oinniy, mid we »re thiira. Siill the srru|;t:lc is most 
 honorable to the Democracy, who went lo work with 
 a new tciil to redeem the Siiiic. Especmlly in the 
 fourih and filth districts was the contest worthy of true 
 Union men, who (;™PP'ed at the very throat of sec- 
 tionalism, and hud the party styling itself American 
 and National done its duty to the country, they would 
 now be rtjoicing over the election of two true repre- 
 Bcntulive men, who arc known to he nationalists. 
 But their nationality is so mixed np with bigotry, that 
 while a handsome vote was ca«t by the adopted citizen 
 to sustain the Union and Constitution, the bigots 
 voted for the bigot and proscriptioni^t, proving their 
 love for the Union second to their American theories ; 
 — thus their hate for Ireland and the Irish overhalanccd 
 and outweighed their boasted love for the statibiliiy of 
 the unity of the States. 
 
 But, truly, the victory is with the Democracy, for 
 the pets have all ijut been beaten, and the contest just 
 closed is indicutive of a future triumph, which strenght- 
 ens the hands which bung down, promising the good 
 time coming, when Massachusetis shall again wheel 
 into line to the ' music of the Union.' 
 
 Nor did wo expect a victory yet. The feeling is 
 deeply tooted in the minds ot the people of Massa- 
 chusetts that African slavery in our Southern' States 
 is the only evil in existence ; that it is their especial 
 province to be the negroV knight errants, and that 
 the federal governineni is responsible for the existence 
 and mainiainancc of said slavery. Yet they cannot 
 be i"norant that it is an institution which the federal 
 go»ernraeiit has no power over whatever, which had an 
 existence before we had any confederutioii, one that it 
 was impossible for the founders of the Constitution to 
 meddle with, and which was at that day existing in 
 this State. 
 
 Not discussing slavery as an evil at all, we would 
 not take part in the agitation, till two points were 
 clearly demonstrated. First, have we any right to 
 meddle with the institutions of the South' Clearly 
 wc have not. Secondly, could we effect any real good 
 bv so doing ! And as ulearly we could not. We have 
 no right as citizens of ilassachusetts to force our opin- 
 ions upon other States, nor any business in meddling 
 with the affairs of people, who regard oar notions as 
 vagerics, and who never meedle with our business. As 
 well may a man go into his neighbor's house and dic- 
 tate his ideas for its government, order his rules to be 
 respected, his plans of education, his liking lor food, 
 bis fancies for clothing the wife and children, in fact 
 eabom to his will and pleasure, as lor Massachusetts 
 to dictate institutions or their abolition to any state 
 or nation outside itself. Will any candid man say he 
 could thus intrude himself in the cottage or the palace 
 of his neighbor with impunity ! That he, whose rights 
 were invaded, would not resist to the death. How then 
 imagine South Carolina or Georgia would be less 
 chivalric or true to themselves ? Good people, we 
 trust, will soon learn to mind their own business, and 
 when they do, it will be all the better for the working 
 men of our State, all the better far the Southern 
 ■lave. 
 
 A common expression with the believers in aboli- 
 tion doctrines is that the ' Irish born citizen is hood- 
 winked by the Democratic party, or they could not but 
 join in this cry for human liberty, having themselves 
 enffirtd oppression.' This is the one grand mistake. 
 The adopted citizen knows that, as a citizen of this 
 State, he has nothing to do with the laws and institu- 
 tions of other States, no more than be is privileged to 
 enter his neighbor's house, and there assume dictation. 
 He likewise knows of oppression amongst white men, 
 which calls more loudly for his sympathy and aid; nor 
 need he go to Africa, nor far South either, for u is at 
 his own door and fireside. 
 
 The Abolitionists prove they arc not sincere in 
 this warfare against the Southern institution. It is sim- 
 ply a stock in trade for the aggrandisement of the 
 leaders in the agiation. or they would not make laws 
 which oppress white men. True, the love for liberty, 
 
 should bo, universal ; bat it onght to begin at home, 
 and wiih onr own race, to cure the evils possible 
 before grappling with the impossible. The adopted 
 citizf'n believes this Union of conf. derated Stites a 
 blessing, not tt curse; he believes in its (ulurc prosperi- 
 ty, till hundreds of millions will reap its blessings in 
 happy homes, and that its inlluenee for the suppression 
 of slavery everywhere will be suceesslul through it» 
 example and system of government ; and should, in his 
 love and obligations, curSe those who would lay hands 
 upon its sacred ties. To the adopted citizen there is 
 no choice between the factions of the opposition. 
 
 They are six of one and half a dozen of the other ; 
 both hostile to him, both the enemies of the country's 
 pro-pcrity, both uniting when it suits them, and at all 
 times against him and the true national party. 
 
 We know, believe, ond assert, there is enough 
 citizens by adoption in either of the disiricis alluded 
 to who, if not over taxed, could alter the present 
 result. Others were foully cheated by every swindle 
 which fraud could devise. Oihers would not vote 
 because many of the leaders in the Democratic 
 party ot to-day were a year ago the foulest Know 
 Nothings in thut terrorism, and, who fugled themselves 
 upon committees of the Democratic party when they 
 found the craft of midnight brawlers a sinking ship 
 and did not renounce their accursed doctrines, but 
 brought them with them, and siill retain them. ' In 
 work of transition from suljection to citizenship, the 
 natives of free America should be the sponsers and 
 catachiscs. Being ihemselves free, nothing is left for 
 them so glorious to do as to impart their freedom to 
 others ' Do they do this or the reverse, is the question ? 
 It is a duty which they not only neglect to perform, 
 but which they prevent others from performing also. 
 We believe the citizen by adoption (a phrase we 
 are forced to use) understands his duties and obli- 
 gations to the country, and is willing (us he has always 
 done) to give his treasure, his intelligence, his ser- 
 vices, or his life, to his new home. He looks for Re- 
 publicanism which has no penal laws, for Democracy, 
 which knows no line for birth-place, nor church having 
 all the rights, or privileges to any certain creed. This 
 is the element that must aid the Democratic party in 
 redeeming the State. Trust no more to Old Whigs 
 or Know Nothings, but in the integrity of yonr prin- 
 ciples, and the element which can be brought to aid in 
 your success. 
 
 ' Truth crushed to earth will rise again, 
 The eternal years of God are hers !' 
 
 TnB PcniTT OF the Hallot-Box — Wc observed 
 with pleasure the good feeling of the different politicul 
 panics and thos-j who distributed votes at the polls 
 on Tuesday, the 2d of Nov. Yet we understand never 
 in any political campaign before was there more (raud 
 resorted to by the wire pullers, to whom, no doubt, is 
 due the success of the Republican puny. In their 
 hands is once more the power to legislate forthe Ststo, 
 anil we cull upon them for an act of legislation, mak- 
 ing it a misdemeanor to distribute any but approved 
 votes, aiid punishing the presenting to any citizen a 
 ballot, which is not what it is represented lo be. Will 
 the immaculate (?) political party see to this, punish- 
 ing all fraud 1 
 
 Odr Pictukks. — We feel not a littlerelcased from 
 a good deal of trouble, which we cannot at all attribute 
 to ourselves, when we announce that our gift pictures 
 are in the hands of all the agents to whom ihey were 
 properly due. 
 
 ADVEKTISTEMENTS. 
 
 STEAM TO ALL PARTS OF GREAT BRITAIN 
 
 —VIA THE— 
 
 ATLANTIC ROYAL MAIL .STEAMSHIP CO'.S 
 
 NEW YORK AND GALWAY LINE. 
 
 Font Plat. — We have perused with pain and in- 
 dignation a letter from the old land addressed to Mr. 
 William Constant, of the Dry Dock Saloon, East 
 Boston, which details the account of the murder of Mr. 
 David Pope, of Clonpriest, near Yonghal, county 
 Cork, who was returning to his family after some 
 years residence in the United States. He left Boston 
 in the ship K. Jacobs, some two months since, and, as 
 appears from the evidence of some of the passengers, 
 had been seen with money ; that he was beaten by 
 some of the crew, who sought to rob him, and that 
 within two days sail wf Liverpool he died und was thrown 
 overboard. We trust this story will prove false, and 
 that the now frantic and distressed famdy will get all 
 the evidence which they may desire. We knew them 
 to be highly respectable, well doing farmers, and we 
 will aid them by all the means in our power in seeking 
 and obtaining further information. 
 
 OniTDARY. — We regret to announce the death of Mrs. 
 James Maher, of the ' Union Hotel ', Washington. 
 Universally as her husband is known as the celebrated 
 gardener who so succe«sfully planted the public 
 grounds of the national capital, she was known more 
 widely as the free, generous, and joyous comforter ot 
 the exile, whose heart, as well as house, were ever 
 open to receive her countrymen, with an Irish wel- 
 come. Wc sincerely sympathise w.th her surviving 
 family. Requicscat in Pace. Amen. 
 
 T 
 
 HIS is the shortest route between Europe and Amcr- 
 The line U cuinpused oC puwerl'iij unU I'utit sail- 
 ing slpanriFliips, nbty otlicuied, and lurtiii«hed witli every- 
 thing requifite tu render tlie vovu^e HUtc and a^^reuablc. 
 i he dei)artures IVom New York tor eialwuy wilJ be an 161- 
 lows, until further notice, viz* — 
 
 CIRCASSIAN, Capt Thompson, November 19. 
 
 Persona vj>iling Ireland reach their destination in three- 
 fourths the time taken by any otiier route, and all have au 
 opportunity ut visiting places and scenery of uurivatled iu- 
 tere^t in Ireland. 
 
 I'rice ofpasi^a^^e, including free tickets by the usual rail- 
 road routes from Oahvuytoauy ot the p'nnclpat cities ol 
 Oreat liritahi, at the following rediiced rates :— First class 
 $90. second claiss $50, thiid clasf $30. 
 
 Tliose wishing to brin;^ their friends to this country can 
 purchase tickets for their passage in third class from (jal- 
 way at S30, or from other cities in Great Uritain, accessible 
 by Vailroiid, $35. A libcial cabin table will be provided, 
 and cooked provisious for third class posseugers to aua 
 from tialway. 
 
 For frei};ht and passage and further particulars apply to 
 tlic Americau Express Company, 61 Hudson street, New 
 York, or to 
 
 NAZRO BKOTHKRS & SWEKNKV, 
 
 ol6 tf Chatham How, IJoaIoo. 
 
 W. J. HENNESSY, 
 ARTIST, 
 
 No. 87 FRANKLIN STREET, 
 
 XEW YORK CITY. 
 
 PASSENGER CERTIFICATES. 
 
 TO OLD COUNTUYMKN. uwkn Mc Namaka has 
 Passage Certiticates and Drafts always on hand and 
 lor sale. As he does business for tliut most re..-pectable 
 iiout^e, (Williams & Uuiou) in Xcw York. <Jld Countr> men 
 desiriiip to send for their friends, or remit money, would 
 do welMo give him a call at No. 4 OouuAM St.. opposite 
 Summer St.. Lowell. Masr 
 
 lA u'UoLHKE, respectlullj intorms his Irieiids and the 
 JL/. public, that he kecp,scou»lantlv on hand COFKINS 
 of all ."iizes and kinds, at his Colhn 'Manufactory, No 847 
 Federal, between liench and Kiieeland Streets, lloston, 
 which he will sell as reasonable as can be bought at any oth- 
 er place in the city. 
 
 N. B. — *>rden» p'unctually attended to, day or night. 
 
 Kesidence, No. '28 South street, Iloston. 
 
 [TT^ti rave-Clothes furni.shed to oi-der at short notice. 
 
 tebl8 
 
 AVVltENCE BlilGAOE BAND. J. Desmo.vi), Lead- 
 
 er. Arc prepared to furnish ^lusic fur Military and 
 
 Civic Parades. Pic-Nics, Festivals, &c. Also, a t^uadrille 
 
 Baud lurnished, if desired. Address J. Uesrauud, cure of 
 
 Kev. J. UDouncll. Lawrence. JIass. 
 
 ILMOKE'b SALEM yUADRILLE BAND. E. UP- 
 ToN, Jr., I'romnter. Apply to P. S. Oilmore, Es- 
 sex House. Salku. Mass. feblS 
 
 We inadiertently printed in our last the name of At- 
 torney General Black for Postmaster General Brown. 
 
 THE 
 IRISH MISCELLANY 
 
 Is published weekly, and devoted to the interests and vin- 
 dication of the Irish people throughout the world. 
 
 The Mixceltnni/ republishes each week one whole number 
 of the old ' Dublin Pknny JoiraNAL.' m itii original ajid 
 selected essays, reviews, poetry, !cc., by Irishmen, of flr«t- 
 rate ability. It also contains beautiful Pictorial Illustra- 
 tions of Irish ^cellcry and other objects of iulerest. amau)( 
 which may be eiiunieratcd engravings ot the aucient cas- 
 tles und round towcrf. the ruius of the old churches, the 
 plundered mouaiiteries. convents and obbeyHof Ireland. 
 
 11 also contain correct Pictorial repreFeutations ot 
 ishmeu ot the present day. ai 
 this country and throughout 
 
 works of art executed by 1 
 wcil as in furmer times! i 
 Europe. 
 Tbkms.— te.OO per vear, 
 
 ariably in advance. 
 TIKJMAS UXEILL. Pi'.oPRiEToit. 
 MII.'a.\EL J. WALSH. Co.MJL'CTOR. 
 
 KO. 4 >?ATSB ST&iCBT, BoSTOM, MaBS. 
 
VOLUME 2— NUMBER 41.] 
 
 BOSTON, SATURDAY, NOVEMBER 20, 1858. 
 
 [PRICE FOUR CENTS. 
 
 ENNIS ABBEY. 
 
 Our engraving represents the remains of one of 
 the finest Abbeys in Ireland, at Ennis, in the Co. 
 Clare, and Barony of Islands, about 112 miles from 
 Dublin. The name ' Ennis ' is derived from Innis 
 or Innish, signifying an island, the name of the 
 town being formerly so spelled. It was built in 
 the chasest style of Gothic architecture ; the long 
 narrow windows divided by stone muUions, the 
 delicate carving and other architectural ornaments 
 telling of its age and of the expense which must 
 have been bestowed on that beautiful church, even 
 in an age when it was the habit of our Catholic 
 forefathers to bestow with a burning zeal and noble 
 liberality, a great portion of the entire annual reve- 
 nues of their principalities on the erection and 
 adornment of the holy temples, of which such 
 ruins still exist. The Abbey was founded about 
 the year 1247, by Donough Cabragh O'Brien, Prince 
 of Thomond, who had been expelled from Limerick 
 in 1236, and was erected for Franciscan Friars. 
 Many traces of its ancient grandeur still remain ; of 
 these the principal is the grand eastern window, 
 consisting of fine lancet-shaped compartments, 
 
 separated by stone muUions, and universally ad- 
 mired for its exceedingly light and elegant propor- 
 tions, and the beauty of its workmanship; the altar 
 as well as the abbot's chair which was in the chan- 
 cel, were richly sculptured with figures in high 
 relief. These and some of the ancient monuments 
 still exist. According to the annals of Innisfallen, 
 it was repaired and much adorned by one of the 
 same family, who also presented to the religious 
 crosses, splendidly embroidered vestments, cowls, 
 book-cases, &c. In 1311, one of the O'Brien family 
 bestowed a whole year's revenue for the support of 
 this monastery and for enlarging and still further 
 beautifying it. It was the place of sepulture, and 
 sometimes of the chief of the sept of M'Namara. 
 Shortly after this date, the refectory and sacristy 
 were built by Matthew M'Namara. In 1313, Der- 
 mot. Prince of Thomond, was interred in it, in the 
 habit of a Franciscan Friar. 1343, Murtough,son of 
 the Prince of Thomond, and Matthew M'Namara, 
 who built the refectory and sacristy and died in the 
 habit of the order, were here interred. 1350, 
 several indulgences were granted by the Holy 
 Father Pope Clement VI. to the Abbey. 1364, 
 
 Dermot O'Brien, Prince of Thomond, who died at 
 Archdrahan, in the Co. Galway, was interred here, 
 as was also Matthew O'Brien, Prince of Thomond, 
 in 1370. In 1375, a scarcity of provisions having 
 occurred, particularly in this part of the country, 
 Edward III. gave permission to some of the friars 
 to enter into the English Pale and purchase some, 
 being moved to compassion by their poverty, which 
 alone could stop the charitie» of the religious — and 
 at the same time, a licence was granted to one of 
 the brothers of the house to proceed to Strasburg, 
 in Germany, to study in the schools there. Under 
 what difficulties and perseverance have not the 
 members of the religious orders frequently, in- 
 deed almost invariably, pursued the acquirements 
 of that knowledge and education which by them 
 has been so universally extended afterwards. In 
 1552, Dermot, Prince of Thomond, was interred 
 here. In 1577, we find the crown in possession of 
 the site of this monastery, and in 1621 it was grant, 
 ed with its possessions to Mr. M'Donogh ; and at 
 present, in common with so many of our splendid 
 ecclesiastical ruins, the ancient Abbey now forms 
 part of the Anglican parish ehurch. 
 
 ENNIS ABBEY, CO. CLAllE. 
 
226 
 
 miSH MISCELLANY. 
 
 THE COURSE OF FMPIRE. 
 
 The followinp; stuiisas of Hiiihop Beikliy nrc lillle 
 known, yet tuniain two oftliu luu^l oUiiuotcd liacs iu 
 our Ubijuagc : — 
 
 Tlie inus«, disfpi.'teU at nu afQ and c!imo 
 
 liflrreii ol'uvvry glorious theme, 
 111 distant land now \vuit.-«a bettertime, 
 
 Froducicjf subjects ^vorthy l^ime. 
 
 lo happy climc!!, n here, from the genial cun 
 
 And vir^'in earth, fftich .'•ceues cuitue, 
 The force uf Art by Nature i^ceniK undone, 
 
 And fancied bcnutie» by the true. 
 
 In happyclimes, the seat of Innocence, 
 Where nature giihle» ar.d virtue rules, 
 
 Where men shall not inii>ose, for truth and senfo 
 Thcpvdaut of courts luid schools. 
 
 There shall bo sung another golden age, 
 
 The rise of empire and of arts; 
 The j^ood and i:reat, in.'^pirlug epic page, 
 
 The widest heads and noblest hearts. 
 
 Not snch as Europe breeds in her decay ; 
 
 Such as she bred %rhen fresh and young, 
 When heavenly flame did animate her clay, 
 
 By future po(it& shall be sung. 
 
 Westward the course of empire takes its way— 
 The lourllrst acts already past. 
 
 The lifth shall close the drama of the day- 
 Time's noblest oQVpriug is the last. 
 
 CLEANINGS FROM THE WEST. 
 
 'Oh, who has not heard of the legends of Clare I' 
 
 THE E.VOLISllMAN OCTWITTED. 
 
 It was a beautiful morning in the harvest of 1834, 
 when the 'barge' sailed from the sound of the Gal- 
 way light-house, not on any of its accustomed 
 crtiiscs in search of Fying-Dutchmen, or of the re- 
 puted pirates which infest the western coast of Ire- 
 land, but the commodore kindly invited the elite of 
 the fair sex of his town, together with some of the 
 yotuig men, of whom I had the honor to be one, 
 on a party of pleasure to the south islands of 
 Arron, about thirty miles distant from the town of 
 Gal way. 
 
 The morning was as beautiful as I ever recollect, 
 scare blowing as much wind as would swell our flap- 
 ping sails, and, as we slowly passed along the hills 
 of Clare, the bleating sheep, and the shepherd's 
 wayward song, were audible in the distance. Ever 
 and anon we could hear the watch-dogs bay, and 
 perceive the reapers busy at their daily toil, with 
 their straw girdles (the emblems of the season^ 
 bound around their waists, pruning the fruits of 
 the giving earth. All seemed to enjoy the scenery, 
 and to feel raptured at viewing the works of crea- 
 tion. 
 
 The breeze began to spring up after the sun had 
 passed the meridian, but not before the God of the 
 winds was often invoked by the fair ladies, and every 
 breath of air that seemed rising off the land was as 
 eagerly whistled for by the small lieutenant who 
 officiated as steersman on the occasion. Wc soon 
 neared the point of Black-head, where the full 
 breeze, coming uninterrupted from the ocean, wafted 
 us merrily along the waves of the Atlantic to the 
 shores of the promised land. There was an awing 
 on the deck for the fair ones to recline in, secured 
 from the heat of the vertical sun, and where all as- 
 lembled to the noonday feast, except the steersman, 
 who at one time Ibced his eyes intently on a fair 
 maiden, the prototype of Flora Mac Ivor, and again 
 at the flowing wine, which the commodore dealt 
 plentifully around ; and, lastly, turned his head 
 away with chagrin from the gay and festive scene. 
 
 Wc had approached Straw Island just as the 
 'dejeune' was over. The Baye's arrival was hailed by 
 a shot from the signal gun of the AVater Guards, who 
 were, of course, all attention to the guests of their 
 commanding officer. The chief accommodated the 
 f.iiT emigrants with the use of his cottage, which 
 waji ezcesdit^^l; neat, and iba aativss wowded, in 
 
 their peculiar costume, around the door, to get a 
 view of the ' quality.' 
 
 While diiiiur wus preparing, we walked some 
 distance tVrou^-h the i4and, conducted by nn iutd- 
 ligent iild nun, whose hair hung in curls ovor his 
 shoulders, whitened by the frost of time, and age 
 siaiupeil wrinkles on his brow, which were to be 
 erased by death alone. He wore the costume of 
 the island in every respect. His shoes, Avhich were 
 the most remarkable, were made of horse-skin, un- 
 tanned, with the hair outside, to prevent slipping on 
 the rocks, which are as smooth as if they had been 
 polished, lie brought us to the Dipping 'Well, 
 which he mentioned as being remarkaole for its per- 
 petually oozing water from the side of a rock into 
 a smooth basin, about a foot beneath it. 
 
 He proposed being our guide to the ' Puflfen- 
 Holes' and the ' lluins of the Seven Churches,' 
 which were some of the greatest curiosities that 
 Arran afforded. 
 
 These are stupenduous pyramids of rocks hollow- 
 ed internally, having a narrow communication with 
 the sea, which is the only access to it, and were 
 often likened by my fair companions to the Acro- 
 ceraunian peaks of Chimeri. They arise by two 
 projecting elitfs, beetling over the spray of the vastly 
 deep beneath them ; and, after forming the barriers 
 of an immense chasm, terminate in two rugged pro- 
 jections, within about twenty feet of each other, 
 through which space, at the alternate ebb and 
 flow of the tide, the water rushes with such velocity 
 that the roar of its waves, breaking against the rude 
 rocky shelves which bound it within, effect an echo 
 that adds considerable interests to the surrounding 
 scene, which is beautifully sublime and romantic. 
 The wild sea fowl nestle iu its hollow shelves, and 
 there you might see the gull and pufi"c'n basking 
 their young on the summit of the cliff, and listen to 
 the sand-lark and curlew whining their melancholy 
 song, which, borne along by the passing wind, be- 
 came inaudible in the distance. The evening was 
 particularly serene, and, as we stood on the cliffs.the 
 expanse of the ocean below seemed smoothened and 
 glassed into a mirror, reflecting the last rays of the 
 setting sun on the opposite Clare mountains. 
 
 After visiting these and other curiosities of the 
 island, until twilight and its congenial languor 
 began to steal over us, we seated ourselves on the 
 clilf, and commenced, 'una voce,' to demand from 
 old Paurick some tale or legend of other days, 
 wherewith to wile the time, until we should be 
 summoned from our delicious rest, to take the more 
 sensual gratification of a good supper, and after 
 some moments spent, apparently in arranging his 
 thoughts, he proceeded as follows : — 
 
 ' Well, then, above all other days in the year, it 
 was on a Sunday morning, about four years before 
 the French landed in Kilcummin, that I strolled 
 down to this very spot, where we are now sitting, 
 with my dog ' Diver' by my side, and a sling in 
 my hand, to amuse myself killing the sea fowl 
 while the praties were boiling for breakfast. 1 was 
 not long standing here when I saw a boat, strangely 
 rigged, making towards this very point, and, upon 
 its approaching closer towards the shore, perceived 
 that the sailors were dressed in such a manner as I 
 never saw man or beast in before ; even ' Diver's' 
 hair began to curl, as soon as he saw them land.' 
 
 ' Four of the strangers landed first, bearing be- 
 tween them a door, upon which a man was stretched, 
 apparently dead. When 1 saw this, I concealed 
 myself in one of the nooks of the rock, until they 
 would pass on, that I might see what was to be 
 done with the corpse. Scarce was I well concealed 
 from their view, when one cf the party, and 
 seemingly their leader, ran along the top of the 
 peak under which I was hid, and remaijied some 
 moments there, looking about to see it they were 
 observed. His face, like thosa of the rest of the 
 pany, w*a fsxtaatXj Uaak ; ha vera a lov bxoaxl* 
 
 leafed hat, and, in place of a good frieze coat, like 
 those of the islanders, he had a kind of petticoat, 
 that scare reached his knees, fastened round his 
 middle with a hairy belt, lilkd with arrows, and 
 llU^kins of the same stulf on his Kg-i ; besides oil 
 these, he had a large bow elung IVoin his shoulders ; 
 and, to make him still more fiightful, a black, curly 
 beard on his upper lip. Having found the coast 
 dear, he beckoned to those bearing the door to 
 advance, and then proceeded along tho shore to 
 Straw Island, which you see yonder. AVhen tho 
 tide is out, I must tell you, there is a path lead- 
 ing between the two islands, by which they crossed 
 over. 
 
 ' 1 followed as carcfiUy as possible, and unpcr- 
 ceived, until we reached the opposite side; but, 
 notwithstanding all the cautions I gave ' Diver ' 
 not to budge, he barked so loudly that the strangers 
 started round, and perceived me. The dog imme- 
 diately made ofi', and never cried .'•top (as I was 
 told afterwards) until he crouched himself into the 
 ash-corner at home, and broke my mother's pipe, 
 that was carefully laid on the hob. 
 
 ' As soon as I was seen, two of these wild-looking 
 fellows ran towards me, and, placing a pistol to my 
 nose, gave me the very same injunctions, as if they 
 they were listening to those that I gave the rascally 
 ' Diver.' 
 
 'Pax nobiscum,' sis I, (being the best Latiner 
 in the parish, barin' the priest,) as tiKy kept rub- 
 bing the pistol by my nose ; but, by my faix, there 
 was small need to waste the blessed language on 
 them, for they spoke Fnglish as well as myself. 
 
 ' After swearing me to silence until they should 
 leave the island, which would be in a few hours, 
 and that I should assist as interpreter between them 
 and the man stretched upon the door (who, they 
 told me, was not dead, but in a trance, and would 
 awake in a short time), they unloosed me, and we 
 all proceeded to the centre of the little island, 
 which was surrounded by a hill, and all further 
 view, except the sky, shut out. Here they laid 
 down the apparently lifeless man upon the bent, 
 which grew there in abundance, and each of the 
 bearers placed the staff that he carried in his hand 
 in the ground, on each side of him, and to the ex- 
 tremity of which was attached a green flag, bear- 
 ing the following inscription — 
 
 ' Washington and Liberty.' 
 
 ' Bedad, I was as bothered a man that minute as 
 was within the four seas. I stood by, any how, 
 looking at their capers, without daring to budge, 
 until I was at length released from this dilemma 
 by the leader of the party, who called me to a little 
 distance, as he said, to teach me my part, at the 
 same time leavin;; the rest standing by the ban- 
 ners. 
 
 ' AVhen we had withdrawn some distance, he thus 
 spoke to mo : — ' Cume now, my gossoon,' says he, 
 ' none of your anticks, but lend an attentive ear to 
 what I'll tell you. That man you see stretched 
 yonder upon the laer will awake shortly, and, for 
 reasons with which you will become acquainted 
 hereafter, we wish to impose upon him that he's 
 now in America, and within thirty miles of New 
 York, for which purpose it is necessary for us to 
 affect a sort of a gibberish, like the language of the 
 wild Indians, and agreeing with the costume we 
 have adopted, and you are to officiate as interpreter 
 between us. No matter what he says to the con- 
 trary, you are to persuade him to it ; and, by the 
 way of making it more forcible on his mind, mention 
 that the last packet was only eight and twenty days 
 on her passage luther. If he shall ask you how he 
 is to return to New York, you must tell him no 
 packet sails from this for the next four days ; but 
 that, if he'll compensate us, we will convey him 
 there. He'll theu produce a bill or draft on the 
 Bank of England, which you are to undervalue a« 
 ' n"»)i OS you ciuv os thay sie not atimnt in tM* 
 
IRISH msCELLAI^Y. 
 
 227 
 
 country since the commencement of the late Mar ; 
 but, at length, afier much hcaitstion, you will con- 
 sent to land him in the cily of New York for the 
 ■whole amount, «liieh is tifty poundc, first making 
 liim s\\\ar to the bargain, it bting the custom of the 
 country, vn all sUc-h transat-tiona.' 
 
 • \ViJile he was thus speaking to me, our attention 
 was attracted toward the group, who suddenly com- 
 menced a sort of bog Latin, babbling to the man 
 on tlie door. lie immediately awolic, and sprung 
 from the ground, and, afcer staring around him lilie 
 a madman, he cried out, ' in the name of wonder, 
 where am 1 :' to which all the black fellows simul- 
 taneously commenced answering, in their assumed 
 jurgon. The only words at all of it that he could 
 understand were 'Slerica, Merica,' and pointing 
 to the inscription on their banners, as explanatory 
 of what they were saying, which, when he perceiv- 
 ed, and observed the Indian dress, all tending to 
 remove further daubt of their assertion, in a til of 
 frenzy he threw himself to th? earth, and cried 
 loudly and bitterly, now and then calling on his 
 ■wife and children, who niust think him lost to 
 them for ever. Uy this time, the chief of the party 
 and myself advanced toward them, to play our 
 part. 
 
 ' No sooner had he heard me speak in his native 
 tongue, than he ran toward me, and seemed as re- 
 joiced as if it was ' a voice from heaven' that came 
 to direct him. Having repeated the same questions 
 to me that he was after putting to make-pretend 
 Indians, I put a grave face on the matter, and in 
 the best manner 1 could, proceeded to tell him the 
 multiplicity of lies which X was sworn to a few mo- 
 ments before. 
 
 ' ' Musha, your honor's welcome to America, the 
 land of the free,' sis I, ' where every man must get 
 his rights ; and what's the best news with you from 
 ould Ireland r Sure that was a fast passage you had 
 over — I suppose you come in the 'Emerald,' for 
 something tells me that you are as tine a lump of a 
 Munsthermau as is ; and, if I am not greatly mis- 
 taken, I seen yourself, or some one like you, a 
 couple of montns ago, standing talking to one 
 Peter Couijn at his own gate in Scotland-Lodge, 
 not twenty miles from Kuuis ; and that was the 
 Very day before 1 set out for America.' 
 
 ' i said all this in one breath, and did not give 
 him time to put in a word till I was done ; but all 
 the time hi kep staring me, as if 1 whs some viper 
 or other that would bite him, or some pookun or 
 banshee that came to warn him of his death ; tor, 
 instead of I he hearty welcome and the 'Uead mil e 
 faiithe ' that he g-ave at the tirst sight of me, 
 he kep sneaking away toward the wild natives, as 
 he supposed, who w ere all attention to the line 
 hand 1 was making of the speech. Ijut at length 
 the poor sowl's brain was so buzzled, md seeing 
 the wild and desert place around him, and not 
 knowing how he came there, he consented to be- 
 lieve what X had told him. 
 
 ' 'And,' says he to me, ' sure enough I was at 
 Scotland-Lodge, in Claie, and you migftt have seen 
 me talking to the same redoubted P^/ter Uomyn ; 
 but X thought, and ain »till thinking, it inu^t be la=t 
 nignr, for 1 dined with him, and he paid the bill he 
 owed me this many a long day," at the same time 
 putting his hand in his pocket, to try if he was 
 right, and showing the money which I'eter gave 
 him ; 'and by the same token, that Doctor Lee, his 
 tight-hand man, was present at the payment. Uiit 1 
 ■was often told of Peter's witcheries, and desired to 
 keep a civil distance from him. 'X'his is what I 
 have got lor my obstinacy ; but if 1 will ever get 
 home to my wife and children, who, poor crathurs, 
 must be crying their eye» out all this time, he'll 
 have good eyes that 'ill ever ace me within tifty 
 miles of Scotland Lodge, loosing for bills, even if 
 they were never to oe paid, liut te 1 me, luy good 
 lad, bow I am to get «» far n Kew York.' 
 
 ' 'Not a one of me knows,' i-is I, ' for all the 
 packets aaled this morning, and no more will be 
 going down for a week.' 
 
 ' Well, then he roared twice as loud as before ; 
 and I suppose he would not have stopped since had 
 I not told him that some of the fishermen would 
 take him to the city if they were ■well rewarded, 
 as it was very dangerous to go seward since the 
 wars commenced, in consequence of the numerous 
 pirates that were upon the coast, and they never 
 ventured e.vcept on some great emergency. 
 
 ' 'But you say you have no money except that 
 piece of paper in your hand, which your honor calls 
 a bank-bill, and nothing is current here now but 
 goold ; and, your honor, what will become of you 
 at all, or the poor wife and children, who wid be 
 all in mourning for you before a week, quite na- 
 turally thinking you were dead and gone, or else 
 they would receive some tidings of you since I saw 
 you in Clare." 
 
 ' At length 1 proceeded to inform the crathur that 
 the natives would convey him to New York, if 
 
 ' 'X know what you mane,' says the poor sowl, 
 throwing them the bill ; ' and here is the whole 
 amount for you, for, as sure as I'm a livin' man, 
 there is no luck in any of Peter's money.' 
 
 ' After some babbling in the unknown dialect be- 
 tween myself and the 'snow balls,' by way of tel- 
 ling them of his offer, I told him that they agreed, 
 after much hesitation, but that he should swear to 
 the bargain, according to the custom of the States; 
 which being done, they proceeded to the little skiff 
 in ■which they came, as it lay in its moorings under 
 the Peak. 
 
 ' We all proceeded for some distance together, 
 when the chief of the party beckoned to me to stand 
 by a bit, until the rest should pass on ; then we 
 both proceeded slowly, and at some distance from 
 the others, when he commenced explaining the 
 whole mystery to me, and, sure enough, it was a 
 quare notion. 
 
 ' X must first tell you that the leader was no 
 other than the very Doctor Lee named by the poor 
 man ; but that was only a niek-name he had, by 
 which the whole county knew him, by raison of his 
 being a bonesetter, as he was no other than the 
 head servant and right-hand man to this Mr. Comyn. 
 But, anyhow, he ups and he tells me how the man 
 they had was <mly a merehant from Manchester, all 
 the way, that Mr. (^omyn had snnie dealings with, 
 as far as fifty pounds, which it wasn't just conve- 
 nient to him to pay the minute the merchant a.\edit 
 of him ; so he gave him his I. O. U. and his word 
 of honor that it should be settled in a few months. 
 Well, sir, the other agreed to wait that time ; but 
 no sooner was the master set out for home than a 
 letter came after liim, demanding immediate pay- 
 ment, which, of course, couldn't be. An' what 
 does my tine merchant do, sir, but sends down two 
 bailiif•^ from Limerick to arrest Mr. Comyn. Well, 
 down they came, sure, spying about the house, and 
 walking up to the door as bould as if it was only 
 to chaptl they wor going ; but I'll be bound it'.-- 
 glad they wor to get back to Limeiick agin, with 
 whole bones and empty pockets, ju^t what thej 
 deserved. This, to be sure, was a great disappoint- 
 ment to the fat Kngtishmuii, who, in his ignorance, 
 had no idea at ail why a bailiff wouldn't be let 
 arrest a man when he had the papers right ; but X 
 suppose he thought they sowld him, and on the 
 morning after who should walk into the yard at 
 Scotland-Lodge but the ICnglishman and the bai- 
 liffs ; and, bedad, before any one could prevent it, 
 the mastlier was a prisoner, not but that the yard 
 was full, an' the min wicked enough, but Mr. 
 Comyn wouldn't let a hair of their heads be touched; 
 and all knew by the twinkle ov his eye that he had 
 a rod in pickle himsell' fjr the lii;glir,hman — and 
 sure so he l.ad, au' this was the way he managed it. 
 Ue paid the bill at once ■n'id that bank-bill he's 
 
 after giving us, and the Englishman was mighty 
 thankful, and all that, making excuses, and all that 
 kind of stuff; but the mnsther cut him short by 
 telling him he had no anger whatever agin him, and, 
 to prove it, invited him to dine with him that day, 
 which you may guess the Englishman didn't refuse. 
 So a parcel of the regular liard-goers was together 
 from all sides, and Doctor Lee dressed up to be at 
 the dinner too; and, between them all, they kepttha 
 Englishman in chat, till they made the crathur as 
 drunk as ever a man would wish to be — not, indeed, 
 without the doctor's stuff, to make him the quieter. 
 Well, sir, as soon as they had him in that condition, 
 the doctor, and the men he chose to he with him, 
 dressed themselves as I told you, and carried him 
 down on a door to the little skiff they had ready 
 for the trick, and away they made for Straw Island, 
 and sure you know what luck they had there, 
 
 ' As he finished telling me the story he had 
 reached the skiff, where the rest was waiting for 
 him. Giving me a crown, as he said, for my trouble, 
 and a hearty shakehands, he jumped into the boat, 
 and wished me good morning. I made home to 
 the praties, and as Winny was always upper- 
 most in my thoughts, to present her with the 
 crown-piece I got, and relate this strange story 
 to her. 
 
 ' Well, when the party arrived in Clare, on the 
 opposite coast, the English cove began to smell 
 Ireland onee more ; and as he walked from the 
 beach towards Peter's house, where the ' Doctor' 
 ■was inveigling him again, for the purpose of ridicu- 
 ling him on the late trick, he addressed the chief, 
 saying that this New York had the greatest re- 
 semblance to some part of Ireland, and has not that 
 gate opposite some likeness to Mr. Comyn's house ? 
 whose name he had scarce mentioned, when he saw 
 the very man himself coming down the avenue ; 
 and the blackiea once more getting the use of their 
 tongues, ■welcomed him to Scotland-Lodge, and 
 laughed most immoderately at him. As thunder- 
 struck as he was upon Straw Island when he awoke 
 there, he appeared twice more so now, and fancied 
 himself really beset by dealers in the ' black art.' 
 Peter soon roused him out of his reverie, by wishing 
 him 'good morning,' and showing the bill, which he 
 thought was in possession of the chief; but when 
 they landed in Clare, 'Doc:or' Lee sent it on by one 
 of the party, while he himself accompanied their 
 dupe. As soon as the English merchant recovered, 
 and found himself in Ireland once more, he de- 
 manded back the e.xtorted bill, and threatened to 
 prosecute in case of non-payment. When he thus 
 spoke, the voices of the entire party joined, repcat- 
 ingin the most solemn manner, 'K'jmen.berthe oath,' 
 I'he other immediately cried, 'For heaven's sake, 
 let me escape from your hands, and I faithfully 
 promise to forgive all.' So, taking him at his word, 
 ihey ah di p irteil in peace, snd ncilhT lale nor tidii'gs 
 Were heard of ihe liroud fat Eiigiiahman si ce. The 
 hitter part of ihe siory I have bren told by one of the 
 pariy, whom I met by ihauce upon the island many 
 vears afier.' 
 
 Old Pautick hnving concluded h • relit his pipe, and 
 we commenced our j .urnfy horneWiid<, at times h If 
 carrying our fair c mipAiiions, on account of ihe dan- 
 tieious dee ivliy ami roughot-s of part- of the paih, 
 whil- tiny, ill return, mainly coiiiri'iuted tosljorten the 
 walk liy ilic sweet son^s of our naiive land, to which, 
 ever and anon, they gave utterance at our request. 
 
 We proposed to visit upon the following morning 
 the ruins of the Seven Churches, which, in my humble 
 eslimaiion, rank foremost as specimens of the old and 
 pure Liothic structure. 
 
 At a duel, a second inteifered, and proposed that 
 the combatants should shake hands. To thin the 
 otiier a,ipeared to ohj^'ct, as uniiecesmry. 'For,' 
 Slid he, 'their hnui* tute been itiaking thi< half 
 hour.' 
 
228 
 
 IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 WATERLOO. 
 
 How difRcult it ia to realize that the quiet «ere- 
 nity of the scene our engraving gires was erer 
 broken by the noise and tumult of war ! That on 
 this lovely spot was contested one of the most san- 
 guinary and terrible battles that ever marked the 
 records of time — dyeing the earth with human 
 blood, and giving growth to a luxuriant vegetation 
 too rank for maturity. As it now is, Waterloo is 
 represented as a substantial and considerable vil- 
 lage of good and respectable houses. St. Jean is 
 two miles beyond, and close to the famous battle- 
 field, with nothing peculiar to attract the traveller'^ 
 notice. But, like the Pass of Thermopyla;, this 
 spot is made immortal by the battle between Napo- 
 leon and the allied armies under Wellington — a 
 scene that marks the closing exploit of Napoleon's 
 dazzling career. Alison, in the history of Europe, 
 gives the follawing description of this celebrated 
 battle-ground, as it was on the day of the engage- 
 ment, and the positions assumed by the combatants. 
 ' The field of Waterloo extends about two miles in 
 length from the. old chateau, walled garden, and 
 enclosures of Hougouraont on the right, to the ex- 
 tremely of the hedge of La Ha ye Sainte on the left. 
 The great roads from Brussels to Charleroi runs 
 through the center of the position, which is situated 
 somewhat less than three quarters of a mile to the 
 south of the village of Waterloo, and three hundred 
 yards in front of the farm-house of Mount St. Jean. 
 This road, after passing through the centre of the 
 British line, goes through La Belle Alliance and the 
 hamlet of Kosomme, where Napoleon spent the 
 night. The position occupied by the British army 
 followed very nearly the crest of a range of gentle 
 eminences, cutting the high road at right angles, 
 two hundred yards behind the farm-house of La 
 Haye Saintc, which adjoins the highway, and 
 formed the centre of the position. An unpaved 
 country road ran plong this great summit, forming 
 nearly the line occupied by the British troops, and 
 which proved of great use in the course of the battle. 
 Their position had this great advantage, that the 
 infantry could rest on the reverse of the crest of the 
 ridge, in a situation in a great measure screened 
 from the fire of the French artillery ; while their 
 own guns on the crest swept the whole slope, or 
 natural glacis, which descended to the valley in 
 
 BATTLE-FIELD OF WATERLOO, 
 
 their front. The French army occupied a corres- 
 ponding line of ridges, nearly parallel, on tke oppo- 
 site side of the valley, stretching on either side of 
 the hamlet of La Belle Alliance. The summit of 
 these ridges afforded a splendid position for the 
 French artillery to fire upon the English guns ; but 
 their attacking colurani, in descending the one hill 
 and mounting the other, would, of necessity, be ex- 
 posed to a very severe cannonade from the opposite 
 batteries. The French army had an open country 
 to retreat over in case of disaster ; while the British, 
 if defeated, would in all probability lose their whole 
 artillery in the defiles of the forest of Soignies, 
 although the intricacies of that would afforded an 
 admirable defense position for a broken array of 
 foot-soldiers. The French right rested on the vil- 
 lage of Planchenois, which is of considerable extent, 
 and afforded a very strong defensive position to 
 resist the Prussians, in case they should be able to 
 assume offensive operations and menace the extreme 
 French right. The whole field of battle between 
 the two armies was unenclosed, and the declivities 
 and hollows extremely gentle ; but the rugged 
 hedge of La Haye Sainte, which ran for half a mile 
 to the left of the village of the same name on the 
 crest of the ridge, afforded great support to that 
 part of the British line, and the thick wood which 
 surrounded the orchard and garden of Hougoumont 
 was impervious to artillery, and proved of essential 
 service in impending the attack of the French 
 column. 
 
 HISTORICAL PARTICULARS OF MACBETH. 
 
 The usurper was by birth the Thane of Ross, and 
 by marriage Thane of Moray. That ho might estab- 
 lish the kingdom, the throne of which he obtained tiy 
 crime, on a lirm footing, he endeavored to conciliate 
 the more powerful to himself by great largesses. He 
 reckoned himself safe from the royal children, on ac- 
 count of their age, and hi. maintained peace with his 
 neighbors by dissimulation. He only wanted the favor 
 of the people, which he studied to deserve. He resolv- 
 ed to punish robbers, whose spirits were raised above 
 the equilibrium of the mild spirit of Duncan, and he 
 succeeded without much trouble or commotion. Him- 
 self the most guilty, he inflicted merited punishment 
 on the guilty. Macbeth must be allowed the merit of 
 govemiag the kingdom well during tec years. He 
 
 was not inferior to any of his predecesssrs in maintain- 
 ing order and distributing justice ; but, as soon as he 
 thought himself well fortified by guards and the favor 
 of the people, and expected he was .safe from foreign 
 enemies and domestic violence, he began to exercise 
 the most crual tyranny. He made the first assault on 
 Banquo, his associate in royal bloodshed. It was re- 
 ported that lots were cast by malicious persons whether 
 his posterity or Banquo's should obtain the kingdom. 
 It was feared a powerful man should start up and fol- 
 low his own example in procuring the government to 
 his offspring — and who was so likely as Banqno, active, 
 resolute, and already guilty. He invited him to sup- 
 per ; but on his way Banquo was murdered by some 
 who waylaid him, and had arisen as in a tumult. His 
 son Fleance escaped the snare laid in the dark. Ad- 
 monished by friends of his father, he sought his own 
 safety in flight ; disguised, he then made his way to 
 Wales. From Fleance descended the Stewarts, in 
 whom the alleged prophecy was fulfilled. The cruel 
 and perfidious slaughter of an old friend alarmed the 
 nobles ; each, fearing for himself, left their homes, and 
 seldom appeared in the palace. Distrust first arose 
 between the king and nobles, and hatred ensued. The 
 former then proceeded more openly. Slight causes 
 gave high oB'ence. Nobles were killed ; the wealthy 
 were spoiled of their effects ; guards of guilty persons 
 were about the king. Nor did Macbeth think himself 
 safe with his body guard ; he began to build a fort — a 
 stronghold that would defy the assault of enemies. It 
 was being raised on the hill Dunsinane, which was of 
 great extent and strength. When the work proceeded 
 slowly, on account of the difficulty of carrying materials 
 to it, he divided the labor among the thanes through 
 the kingdom. They were to forward the undertaking 
 in their turn, and he ordered them to be inspectors of 
 the work, demanding of them workmen and beasts of 
 burden. At that time Macduff, Thano of Fife, wag 
 the most powerful of them. He distrusted the King, 
 but sent hither workmen and friends who would super- 
 intend them, and see the work forwarded. The King, 
 whether with the intention of inspecting the work, or 
 with the design of seizing the thane, as the latter sus- 
 pected, was present, and seeing a yoke of oxen labor- 
 ing under too heavy a load, in ascending the acclivity, 
 Macbeth, as incited by the occasion, got into a rage, 
 and threatened he would put the yoke on the owner's 
 neck. This threat, being repeated to Macduff, he de- 
 layed not a moment, left his wife and children, crossed 
 
miSB MISCELLANY. 
 
 229 
 
 over to the Lothians in a small boat, anil escn|ieil into 
 Enijlanii. His intention to Hy into Enjjland being 
 made known to Macbeth, he instantly proceeded with 
 a strong force to Fife to seize the thane. He entered 
 his castle, and, not liiiding him, he poured out his rage 
 on his wife and children. He conri<cated his goods, 
 proclaimed him traitor, denounced a heavy penalty on 
 any one who would dare to aid, receive, or accompany 
 him. He cruelly treated the illustrious and wealthy 
 without distinction. He dispised the nobles, and gov- 
 oi-ned by domestic counsellors. The Abbot of Dunkold 
 attempted in vain to drive him from the throne, and 
 establish the legitimate heir. Meantime, Macduff ar- 
 rived in England, and found Malcolm entertained in 
 state by King Edward. He urged and encouraged 
 Malcolm to assert his right to the crown of Scotland. 
 Edward had overcome the Danes, and being reconciled 
 to Siward, Earl of Northumberland, who was maternal 
 nncle to Malcolm, gave him 10,000 men, to aid in 
 placing the lawful heir on the throne of his ancestors. 
 Macbeth was deserted; in the sudden defection he saw 
 no safer retreat than Dunsinane Castle, where he 
 might wait for assistance from the Hebrides and Ire- 
 land, whither he sent messages, promising pay and 
 booty. They who deserted Macbeth joined the army 
 of Malcolm. The people offered up prayers for him 
 wherever he advanced, and followed him with their good 
 wishes, which were omens of victory. The soldiers, as 
 if already victorious, fixed green branches in their hel- 
 mets, and, as they marched, the wood of Birnam, as 
 prophecied or told by witches, seemed to be moving to 
 Dunsinane. The array marched to battle more like 
 triumphant forces returning from fight. Macbeth, the 
 bold and cruel, betook himself to flight ; Macduff, 
 pursuing, slew him. Lulach, or the simple Lady Mac- 
 beth's son, was acknowledge king by the lieges of Ross 
 and Moray. Malcolm discovered his lurking place, 
 pursued , and slew him in Strathbogie. Macbeth reigned 
 in all seventeen years ; during the last seven be equal- 
 led in cruelty the most savage tyrant. He and Lulach 
 were buried in lona, 1057. 
 
 INCIDENT OF THE BATTLE OF NEW OR- 
 LEANS. 
 
 A British oflScer, who was in the battle of New Or 
 leans, mentions an incident of thrilling strangeness 
 and very descriptive of the Western hunter, many of 
 whom marched to the defense of New Orleans as vo- 
 lunteers in the army under the renowned Andrew 
 Jackson : 
 
 ' We marched,' said the officer, ' in a solid column 
 of twelve thousand men, in direct line upon the Amer- 
 ican defenses. I belonged to the staff ; as we advanced, 
 we watched through our glasses the position and arrange- 
 ments of our enemy with that intensity an officer only 
 feels when marching into the jaws of death, with the 
 assurance that while he thus offers himself as a sacri- 
 fice to the demands of his country, every action, be it 
 successful or otherwise, will be judged with the most 
 heartless scrutiny. 
 
 It was a strange sight, that long range of cotton 
 bales — a new material for breastworks — with the crowd 
 of human beings behind their heads, only visible above 
 the line of defense. We could distincly see their long 
 rifles laying overjhe bales, and the battery of Gen. 
 Coffee directly in front, with its great mouth gaping 
 towards us, and the position of Gen. Jackson, with his 
 staff around him. But what attracted our attention 
 most, was the figure of a tall man standing on the 
 breastworks, dressed in linsey woolsey, with buckskin 
 leggins, and a broad-rimmed felt hat that fell around 
 his face, almost concealing his features. He was 
 standing in one of those picturesque and graceful at- 
 titudes, peculiar to those natural men-dwellers in the 
 forests. The body rested on the left leg, and swayed 
 with a curved line upwards ; the right arm was ex- 
 tended, the hand grasping the rifle near the muzzle, 
 the but of which rested near the toe of his right foot, 
 while with his hand he raised the rim of the hat from 
 his eyes, and seemed gazmg from beneath intensily 
 upon oar advancing column. The cannon of General 
 Coffee had opentd us, and tore through our ranks with 
 
 dreadful slaughter; but we continued to advance, un- 
 wavering and cool, as if nothing threatened our pro- 
 gress. 
 
 The roar of cannon seemed to have no effect upon 
 the figure standing on the cotton bales, but bo seemed 
 fixed and motionless as a statute. At last ho moved, 
 threw back the hat-rim over the crown with bis left 
 hand, raised the rifle to his shoulder, and took aim at 
 our group. Our eyes were riveted on him. At whom 
 had he leveled his piece! But the distance was so 
 great that wo lodked at each other and smiled. We 
 saw the rifle flash, and my right-hand companion, as 
 noble looking a fellow as ever rode at the head of his re- 
 giment, fell from his saddle. The hunter paused a 
 few moments, without moving his gun from his shoul- 
 der, then reloaded and resumed his former attitude. 
 Throwing the hat-rim over his eyes, and again holding 
 it up with the laft hand, he fixed his piercing gaze upon 
 us as if hunting out another victim. Once more the 
 hat-rim was thrown back and the gun raised to the 
 shoulder. This time we did not smile, but cast short 
 glances at each other, to see which of us must die; and 
 when the rifle again flashed, another of us dropped to 
 the earth. There was something awful in thus march- 
 ing on to certain death. 
 
 Gen. Coffee's battery and thousands of musket balls 
 played upon our ranks ; we cared not (or them — there 
 was a chance of escaping unscathed. Most of us had 
 walked upon batteries a hundred times more descrip- 
 tive without quailing ; but to know that every time 
 that the rifle was leveled towards us, and its bullet 
 sprang from the barrel, one of us must surely fall ! 
 To see the gleaming sun flash as the deadly iron came 
 down, and see it rest motionless, as if poised upon a 
 rock, and know, when the hammer struck and the 
 sparks flew to the full-primed pan, that the messenger 
 of death drove unerringly to its goal — to know this, and 
 still march on, was awful. 
 
 I could see nothing but the tall figure standing on 
 the breastwork. He seemed to grow, phantom-like, 
 taller and taller, assuming through the smoke the su- 
 pernatural appearance of some great spirit. Again 
 did he reload and discharge his rifle with the same 
 unfailing aim ; and it was with indescribable pleasure 
 that I beheld, as we neared the American lines, the 
 sulphurous smoke gather around me, and shut that 
 spectral hunter from my gaze. We lost the battle ; 
 and, to my mind, the Kentucky rifleman contribitued 
 more to our defeat than anything else ; for, while he 
 remained to our sight, our attention was drawn from 
 duties ; and when at last we became enshrouded in the 
 smoke the work was complete ; we were in utter con- 
 fusion, and unable in the extremity to restore order 
 sufficient to make any successful attack. 
 
 So long as thousands and thousands of rifles remain 
 in the hands of the people, so long as men come up 
 from their childhood able, ere the down appears on the 
 chin, to hit the centre of a mark, or strike the deer at 
 one hundred and fifty yards in the most vital part ; so 
 long as there is a great proportion of the Republic 
 who live as free as the wild Indian, knowning no leader 
 but their own choosing, knowmg no law but that of 
 right, and the honorable observance of friendly inter- 
 course, America is unconquerable ; and all the armies 
 of the combined world, though they might drive them 
 from the sea coast and across the Alleghany mountains, 
 would not be able to subdne the free-souled hunter 
 among the mountains and great prariries and mighty 
 rivers of the West.' 
 
 A MERCHANT, not particularly" cognizant with 
 geography, picked up a newspaper and sat down to 
 read. He had not proceeded far before he came to 
 a passage stating that one of his vessels was in jeo- 
 pardy. ' Jeopardy ! Jeopardy ! Jeopardy !' said the 
 astonished merchant, who had previously heard that 
 his vessel was lost ; ' let me see, that is somewhere 
 in the Mediterranean. Well, I am glad she has 
 got into port, for I thought it was all over with 
 her.' 
 
 D'lsttAKLi ON Spanish Beauty. — The Spanish 
 women arc very interesting. What we associate 
 with the idea of female beauty is not, perhaps, very 
 common in this country. There arc seldom those 
 seraphic countenances which strike you dumb, or 
 blind, but faces in abundance which will never pass 
 without commanding admiration. Their charms 
 consist in their sensibility. Each incident, every 
 person, every word, touches the fancy of a Spanish 
 lady, and her expressive features are constantly con- 
 futing the creed of the Musselman. But there is 
 nothing quick, harsh, or forced about her. She is 
 extremely unaffected, and not at all French. Her 
 eyes gleam rather than sparkle ; she speaks with 
 vivacity, but in sweet tones, and there is in all her 
 carriage, particularly when she walks, a certain 
 dignified grace which never deserts her, and which 
 is very remarkable. 
 
 The general female dress in Spain is of black silk, 
 a 'basquina,' and a black silk shawl, a ' mantilla,' 
 with which they usually envelope their heads. As 
 they walk along in this costume in an evening, with 
 their soft dark eyes dangerously conspicuous, you 
 willingly believe in their universal charms. They 
 are remarkable for the beauty of their hair. Of 
 this they are very proud, and indeed its luxuriance 
 is equalled only by the attention which they lavish on 
 its culture. I have seen a young girl of fourteen, 
 whose hair reached her feet, and was as glossy as 
 the curl of a Contessa. All day long, even tlie 
 lowest order, are brushing, curling, and arranging 
 it. A fruit-woman has her hair dressed with as 
 much care as the Duchess of Ossuna. In the sum- 
 mer, they do not wear their mantilla over their 
 heads, but show their combs, which are of very 
 great size. The fashion of these combs varies con- 
 stantly. Every two or three months, you may 
 observe a new form. It is the part of the costume 
 of which a Spanish woman is most proud. The 
 moment that a new comb appears, even a servant 
 wench will run to the melter's with her old one, 
 and thus, at the cost of a dollar or two, appear the 
 next holiday in the newest style. These combs are 
 worn at the back of the head. They are of tortoise- 
 shell, and, with the very fashionable, they are white. 
 I sat next to a lady of high distinction at a bull- 
 fight at Seville. She was the daughter-in-law of 
 the Captain-General of the province, and the most 
 beautiful Spaniard I ever met with. Her comb was 
 white, and she wore a mantilla of blonde, without 
 doubt extremely valuable, for it was very dirty. 
 The effect, however, was charming. Her hair was 
 glossy black, her eyes like an antelope's, and all 
 her other features deliciously soft. She was further 
 adorned, which is rare in Spain, with a rosy cheek, 
 for in Spain our heroines are rather sallow. But 
 they counteract this slight defect, by never appear- 
 ing until twilight, which calls them from their bow- 
 ers, fresh, though languid, from the late siesta. The 
 only fault ot the Spanish beauty is, that she too 
 soon indulges in the magnificence of embonpoint. 
 There are, however, many exceptions. At seven- 
 teen, a Spanish beauty is poetical. Tall, lithe, and 
 clear, and graceful as a jennet, who can withstand 
 the summer lightning of her soft and languid 
 glance ? As she advances, if ihe do not lose her 
 shape, she resembles Juno rather than Venus. 
 Majestic she ever is, and if her feet be less twinkling 
 than in her first bolero, look on her hand and 
 you'll forgive them all. 
 
 Dean Swift once attempted, in a humorous mood, 
 to prove that all things were governed by the word 
 led. Said he : — 
 
 ' Our noblemen and hard drinkers are pimp-led ; 
 physicians and pulses are fee-led ; their patients 
 and oranges are pil-led ; a new married man and 
 donkeys are bride-led ; and an old married man 
 and pack-horse are sad-led ; cats and dice are rat- 
 An organist once imitated a thunder-storm so well I ^^^ '' swine and nobility are sty-led ; a maiden and 
 that, for m,iles around, the milk turned boux. ' * tinder-box arc »park-led. 
 
230 
 
 IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 TWO DAV9 IN THE RIDINO-SOHOOL. | • Put viiur linnd on the hor<c» rump, and lay fa«t j 
 The first mornin;^ nf:er ii young nlfi er ha< j'lincrl l,ol(l uf hii munp,' crioi a youn^ utfijtT. who hud 
 hi* regiment, lie tiiiil* hicnwlf exulted on a spirited ju^t mrmnunted the same dillicultiL-s, -and you nill ' 
 steed. 8ome >i.xteen h&ndshigh, from whose back he | goon be off." 
 
 dares not cast his eye downward, to take oven a The tyro in riding follown this fiicndly advice, 
 glimpse of the immense space between him and the I and tlnda himself neatly floored by a tremendous 
 earth. Ilis chin is so elevated by a. leather stork ' plunge of the horse, thuj tinibhing liia first day's 
 that he can just see the head of the animal on which drill. 
 
 he sits i his heels arc screwed out by the iron tiatof 
 the rough rider, and the smiiU of hia back is well 
 bent in. Having been knocked and hammered into 
 this posture, the word ' march ' is given. This com- 
 mand the well-drilled animals obey immediately. 
 
 The next morning the pupil attends the riding- 
 school, with his nose somewhat embellished by his 
 fall. 
 
 He enters the school with his — ''Good morning, 
 sergeant ;■ for it is always good policy to keep 
 
 and the machine i* suddenly set in motion, the result [ friends with both riding masters and rough tidcrs. 
 of which usually is, that the young gentleman ■ • Goid morning, sir,' says ths sergeant ; ' I hope 
 speedily finds his way to the ground, with the loss you did not hurt yourself yesterday." 
 of half a yard of skin from his shin, or with his nose ■ Oh, no — oh no ! Mltc scratch — mere scratch — 
 grubbing in the earth. ! no', worth mentioning.' 
 
 'Well done, sir ; Astley himself could not have | • Glad to hear it, sir. AVe must expect in the 
 done better. Mount again, sir; these things will | army both scratches and falls. I have ordered you, 
 happen in the best regulated riding-academies, and ! fjr to-day, a horse somewhat more sp'rited, that will 
 in the army, sir. you will have many ups-and- , jump under you like an antelope," 
 
 downs. Come, sir, jump up, and don't be down 
 hearted because you are floored.' 
 
 ' Well, sergeant, but I'm very seriously hurt." 
 
 ' Nay, nay, I hope not, sir ; but you must be 
 more cautious foi the future." 
 
 The pupil mounts again, and the order is again 
 given to march, and off goes the horse a second 
 time, the sergeant roaring out at intervals — 
 
 ' Well done, sir ! Head a little higher — toes in, 
 sir — heels out — bend the back a little more — that 
 will do, sir — you look an majestic as the Black 
 Prince in the Tower, or King Charles's statue at 
 Charing-Cross. Bravo, sir — rode capitally ! We 
 will now try a little trot. Recollect, sir, to keep 
 your nag well in hand — trot. 
 
 'Well done, indeed, sir — knees alittlc lowerdown, 
 if you please — that's higher, sir — no, no, sir, that's 
 higher, I ."iay — you look for all the world like a 
 tailor on his shop-board. What are your elbows 
 doing up there, sir ? Elbows close to your body — 
 you pay no attention to what I say, sir — faster, 
 faster." 
 
 'Oh dear! oh dear; oh dear! Sergeant halt ; I 
 shall be off! I fhall be off! oh dear, oh dear!' 
 
 ' iiravo, sir, that"s better — faster." 
 
 ' Sergeant ! I am sick, sergeant !" 
 
 * Xever mind such trifles, sir ; riding is an excel- 
 lent remedy for all kinds of sickness. Now, recol- 
 lect, in changing from one to two, you round the 
 horse's croup well, by applying your right leg to 
 his flank, and take care he does not kick you off. 
 Change from one to two. 
 
 'Halt, sir; halt! that won't do; what the devil 
 are you about ? That's the wrong way, I told you 
 from one to two ; turn your horse about from one 
 to two." 
 
 'I can only just see the top of the riding-school ; 
 I can sec no figures at all, sergeant." 
 
 •Well, sir, we'll dispense with this for the pres- 
 ent; but soldiers should learn to turn thiir eyes 
 everywhere. Suppose we have another march, sir. 
 March — trot — faster — faster ; very well, indeed. 
 Now, sir, you mu^t recollect, when I say the word 
 halt, that you pull your horse smartly up, by throw- 
 ing your body well hack, and pressing the calves (if 
 any) of your legs to his sides. If you don't keep 
 your body upright, the horse's head will soon putit 
 in its proper place. Faster — a little faster — halt. 
 There, sir, I told )<)u what would be the conse- 
 quence of your not keeping your head properly 
 up !" 
 
 ' Stop, stop ; my nose bleeds, my nose bleeds !' 
 
 ' Rough rider, get a bucket of water for the gen- 
 tleman. You had better dismount, sir." 
 
 ' Dismount, sergeant ? How am I to get off this 
 great beast ?' 
 
 • Why, jump, sir, to be sure — jump off. Come, 
 sir, we cauuot wait all day ; yuu delay the whok 
 4lrUl. Cume, come, six, di^mouut.' 
 
 'Much obliged to you, indeed," says the pupil, 
 making a tremendous wiy face. 
 
 'Oh, don't mention the obligation, sir. It is my 
 duty to make a good rider of you, and I flatter my- 
 self that I have turned out some of the best riders 
 from this school that are to be found in the king- 
 dom, and with as few accidents as could rca^onably 
 have be^n expected, though, of course, cau-ualities 
 will sometimes inevi{ably happen in a large acade- 
 my like this. To be sure," continues the sergeant, 
 winking at the rest of the party assembled, • there 
 was poor Cornet Shins, who broke his neck, and, 
 by-ihe-bye, off the very horse you are going to ride 
 to-day; but that, of course, was no fault of the 
 poor animal's. Then, there was Lieutenant Stew, 
 who broke his thigh, and a few other trifling circum- 
 stances of this kind, which make good for the 
 army." 
 
 ' Good for the army ! How do you make that 
 out r' 
 
 ' Why, sir, it is as plain as the eizhteen mnnocu- 
 vers. We will just suppose, for the sake of argu 
 ment, that your neck is broken this morning." 
 
 ' My good, sergeant, what are you talking about r' 
 
 ' I am only supposing, you understand, that your 
 neck was broken ; in which case it must be clear to 
 you that you would make room for another. But 
 come, sir, we must proceed to business. Prepare to 
 mount — mount— ^steady there — not an eye or muscle 
 to move — pray, sir, keep your horse steady — put 
 your left leg to him, and put him straight — don't 
 touch him in the Hank, sir, or he will soon have 
 you off — that will do — march — sit still, I beg, sir ; 
 you are all on one side, like the lug-sail of a boit — 
 that's better; now, sir, trot — faster — halt. Pray, 
 sir, do be attentive." 
 
 ' My stirrups are too long." 
 
 ' Rough rider, take them off; the gentleman will 
 ride better without them. Now, sir, off with you 
 Kgain — march — faster — halt. Why, sir, you roll 
 about like a ship in distress ; pray keep your seat — 
 march." 
 
 ' I am off, I am off." 
 
 ' Not yet. sir." 
 
 ' Yes I am, yes I am." 
 
 ' Well, 1 believe you are now, sir ; at least I never 
 saw anything more like it in my life. I hope you 
 are not hurt, sir." 
 
 ■ No, nut much ; but this horse is worse than 
 the other." 
 
 ' Why, of course, I know that, sir ; you must 
 have a worse horse every day. Come, sir, mount 
 again." 
 
 ' 1 can't ; you have taken the stirrups off.' 
 
 ' Oh, never mind that, sir ; jump up.' 
 
 ' 1 can't." 
 
 ■ Iry, sir ; there is no nmedy. Yonder I see the 
 ridiiij{-master coming this way." 
 
 The riding-master now comes up, and inquires 
 into the prrtgre>s of all his pupils. 
 
 Well, sergeant, how gets on Cornet Waddle?" 
 Very well, indeed ; he has had only two falls in 
 two days." 
 
 ' I am glad to hear it. What horse is that ho is 
 on :' 
 
 • Kicking Billy, sir.' 
 
 ' Ah ! a good horse to learn on. Heads up. Cor- 
 net Waddle — six inches from hand to hand— four 
 inches from holster-pipes — that will do — trot. Bless 
 me. Cornet White, how yourelbowsgo ; one would 
 imagine ynu had been either a tailor or a fiddler. 
 Do keep them close to your sides, sir. We'll now 
 try a little enter — canter. Very well, indeed — 
 change from three to four. Cornet Shanks, pray 
 keep those stretching legs of your's quiet, and feel 
 the horse's mouth lightly. Not with that hand, 
 sir, but with the bridle. Keep down your knees — 
 faster — halt. What, three of you off. Come, niount 
 again, gentlemen ; when I was a recruit, I fell fifty 
 times a day, and laughed at the fun. Now, hold 
 on — march — trot — gallop. Cornet Waddle, let go 
 the horse's mane ; let go, sir.' 
 
 ' I can't, sir ; if 1 do, I shall be off.' 
 
 ' You must go faster, then, till you do— faster 
 — faster ; well done, indeed — halt. What, off 
 again r' 
 
 Thus concludes the second day's drill ; after 
 which the pupil, having surmounted the minor dif- 
 ficulties of horsemanship, is put into a squad of 
 about a dozen recruits, to act in a bodv. 
 
 POPULAR LEGENDS OF THE SOUTH—CAR- 
 RIG CLEENA. 
 
 ' Ueaver taught poets know 
 
 Tl;c vprito tlmt sought liis cluHp and kiff. 
 
 Had bori.e him offlioin l.uuiali wo, 
 
 I'o shaie her uwu immurtut bliss.' 
 In the parish of Glantaun, and three miles north- 
 west of the town of Mallow, in the midst of a wild 
 tract of country, appear certain rocks of a strange 
 and romantic appearance. The dark green drapery 
 of the creeping ground-ivy shades the lime-bleached 
 sides of these masses, and the lighter tint of the tall 
 fern springing from their deep interstices, marks 
 their different compartments with many a line of 
 green. These locks lie circularly on the plain, and 
 in the centre rises one towering over the rest, as the 
 graceful height of the pine looks proudly do« n on 
 its humble fellows of the forest. Its almost inac- 
 cessible top is perfectly level, and covered with a 
 carpet of verdant gret-n. At the base of its north- 
 ern tide lie huge stones, which some giant aim 
 seems to have hurled confusedly around, for, from 
 the perpendicular smoothness of the sides, pnd the 
 table-like flatness of the summit, they could not 
 have fallen down from the rock. lui-ide these frag- 
 ments of granite, and level with the plain, yawns a 
 wide opening in the rock. This entrance is softly 
 I shaded by l>"e briery branches of the w ild rose, and 
 leads, according to the current opinion, to a spa- 
 cious vault within, and some who have climbed to 
 the top have found it resound, deep and hollow, to 
 the stamp of their feet ; but the most adventurous 
 never essayed to explore its inner secrets. A large 
 hawthorn, which opens its fragrant white blossoms 
 in this romantic solitude, is tenanted by the w Jd 
 thrush, that pours his song of beauty to the echoes 
 of the rock. Indeed, this seems lo he the favoriic 
 haunt of the genius of music. Some unseen songs- 
 ter, from the green summit of the rock, is often 
 heard to blend strains of melting harmony with the 
 wild warbling of the thrush. The cow-boy, as he 
 whistles his herd over tl c n' ighboiing pastures to 
 the milking-bawu, as the gentle summer evening is 
 throwing her russet mantle over the green bosom of 
 the land, friquently htars, in the fairy haunt, the 
 music of some unknown instrument, whose thriliiiig 
 viljrations, suspending eveiy sense but that of luar- 
 ing, deprive the limbs of motion, and bind tho 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 231 
 
 entranced soul in the magic links of harmony, un- 
 til the wild strain is hushed, and silence reigns 
 around. 
 
 The land immediately surrounding this haunted 
 rock has been, time out of mind, deemed consecrated 
 ground. Never did the profane hedging bill of the 
 peasant invade its time honored shrubs ; the spade 
 of the husbandman never wounded the holy glebe, 
 and though modern improvement is rapidly chang- 
 ing the harsh features of this rough district, culti- 
 vation has not yet dared to obtrude where supersti- 
 tion guards her ancient right — for tradition relates 
 that this is the favorite abode of Cleena, a benevo- 
 lent genius — hence the haunted rock, so famous in 
 fairy lore, has obtained the name of Carrig- 
 Cleena. 
 
 The untaught peasants of the surrounding coun- 
 try has ever regarded Oleena as their benefactress. 
 The rustic of the present day affirms that in her 
 neighborhood no cattle die from the malignant in- 
 fluence of the evil eye, or the rr.ischievous power of 
 the unfriendly spirits of air, and that her goodness 
 preserves the harvest crop from the blight which 
 lays prostrate the farmer's hopes, when beings, un- 
 friendly to man, appropriate to themselves the pro- 
 duce of his fields. The peasantry seem to be the 
 children of her peculiar care ; frequently she has 
 been known to veil her celestial beauty, and,attii-ed 
 in the homely garb of the country,announce to some 
 night wanderer the expulsion from her confines of 
 the evil spirits of the north, and the consequent 
 abundance of a pU-ntiful harvest. 
 
 On the borders of the Shannon, in the county of 
 Limerick, resided a j'outhful chieftain, one of the 
 Geraldines, the remains of whose castles along the 
 banks of the king of Irish streams even yet frown 
 defiance on the dashing waves below. He was 
 skilled in all the accomplishments deemed necessary 
 in the age of chivalry in which he lived. Brave as 
 those daring adventurers from whom he claimod 
 descent, and hospitable and generous as the ancient 
 chieftains of the land, his perfections were the theme 
 of many a harp-striking minstrel. The princely 
 chief himself was a bard of the first eminence, and 
 he early taught his harp to breathe, in ardent strains, 
 the charms of Ellen O'Brien. She was the only 
 daughter ot one of those unfortunate chiefs whose 
 possessions sunk to insignificance, and whose power 
 crumbled to dust before the prevailing fortune of 
 the Sa.xon invader. Fitzgerald saw the beauteous 
 Ellen- -and loved ; nor was his passion unregarded ; 
 his splendid accomplishments and noble mien, the 
 soft music of his harp, and tender lay of love, all 
 stole to the heart of the interesting girl, and Ellen 
 beheld in the enemy of her name and race, the only 
 being whose idea twined like a magic spell round 
 her heart and brain, and without whom this earth 
 and its enjoyments seemed but a dreary void. 
 
 Tradition records that Cleena beheld this favored 
 youth, and that gifted being, before whose knowl- 
 edge the secrets of the earth lay unlocked, bent to a 
 superior power, and obeyed that magic spell which, 
 in the olden day, it is said, drew erring angels from 
 their sphere, to bask in the beauty smiles of the 
 daughters of Adam. She loved Fitzgerald, and re- 
 solved that he should share the splendors of her un- 
 seen hall, and the greatness of her power. 
 
 Upon a festival day, when the proud and noble of 
 the land were assembled at ' tilt and toumay,' a 
 dark cloud descended on the pla n, and enveloping 
 young Fitzgerald, bore him from the field. He dis- 
 appeared— no trace of him could be fonnd ; the va- 
 rious messengers who scmght intelligence of him re- 
 turned weary from their fruitless toil. Days and 
 months rolled away in vain expectation, and the 
 most incredulous, at length, believed that a super- 
 natuvil power had borne the chief ain away, and 
 that he remained the slave of enchantoaent in some 
 unexplored retreat impervious to mortal feet. 
 
 Of all that mourned this strange and melancholy 
 
 circimistance, none felt more intense sorrow than 
 Ellen O'Brien, When his followers ceased to seek 
 their master, when every mouth forgot the hopeless 
 inquiry, she departed privately from the home of 
 her childhood, resolved, with that tenacity of pas- 
 sion which belongs to the true and stainless heart of 
 woman, to find her lover or perish in the attempt. 
 In a rocky glen, in Kerry, where resided a wizard, 
 who held strange and unutterable communings with 
 beings of another life, she learned that Cleena had 
 conveyed her lover to her favorite residence in the 
 county of Cork. 
 
 In the decline of Autumn, Ellen O'Brien reached 
 Carrig- Cleena, her hair floating wildly in the fitful 
 breeze, her garments torn by every shrub and bram- 
 ble, and her feet bleeding from the roughness of the 
 path. In her native tongue, that language of life 
 and feeling, she poured the extemporaneous effu- 
 sions of her love-lorn heart in harmonious verse. 
 She feelingly depicted their unquenchable loves, 
 their early vows of plighted faith, and the assurance 
 she received that the object of her pursuit was de- 
 tained in this enchanted rock. She appealed to 
 Cleena's wonted kindness to the human race, and 
 expressed her firm determination to expire at the 
 foot of that rook, the echoes of which should bear 
 her final groan to the faithful youth whose eternal 
 constancy she knew no power of earth or air could 
 destroy. 
 
 The legend tells that Cleena, moved by Ellen 
 O'Brien's matchless fidelity, and won by the beauty 
 of her person, and the mournful melody of her per- 
 suasive song, gave the captive lover to the arms of 
 his faithful maid. They departed together. The 
 nuptial tie joined the hands of those whose hearts 
 were long united, and they became the parents of a 
 numerous and happy offspring. 
 
 THE STARS INHABITED. 
 
 Astronomy, both by its practical discoveries and 
 well-founded theories, has opened much lo our view 
 aliogeiher unknown to the ancients. It has, as it were, 
 withdrawn the veil which formerly shaded the laws, 
 motions, and magnitude of the universe. It has 
 shown us the shape and extent of the earth ; the velo- 
 city with which it travels, with its two-fold motions, 
 and the laws of the changes of the seasons, and the 
 night and day. It gives us the power of measuring 
 the immense distances of the plannets and the sun — 
 the amazing size of the latter, and the great velocity of 
 the former. ]t shows us millions of moving bodies 
 placed at immeasurable distances, and thus enables us 
 to form a faint idea of the Almighty Power whith has 
 formed such a vast and extraordinary system. But 
 still the mind of man seeks more knowledge than even 
 this wonderful science affords him. The human soul 
 would stretch itself even beyond the boundless limits 
 of time and space. Bursting the prison of its 
 earthly frame, the immortal spirit looks beyond the 
 confines of its habitation, and, from the knowledge 
 adequate to its nature, cries out for still more extended 
 infjrmation, even on su*'jectB which, in its present 
 state, it is not capalile of understanding. 
 
 When we view the firmament abof e us, and consider 
 the innumerable stars that arc visible even to the naked 
 eye, and remember that the sun is the centre of 
 our system, with eleven planets revolving around it, of 
 which our earth is one — which is larger than some and 
 mailer than others — we then begin to thmk, may no t 
 the other plannets be inhabited like our world, with 
 beasts and creeping things, vegetable and trees'? May 
 they not, too, have their intellectual beings endued 
 with immortal souls as wo ourselves are 1 Aud we 
 are forced to the conviction that such must bo the case, 
 for what is the world without its intelligent inhabitants, 
 or how else could it glorify its Creator? Whether all 
 their senses and properties are the same as ours, 
 matters not in this consideration; their atmospheres 
 are dili'erent, and, therefore, there must be a dilierence 
 in the beings that inhabit them. But what arc these 
 few planets 1 What space is contaioed within their 
 
 orbits? Trifling in comparison to the immeasurable 
 distance that even man can imagiae to exist between 
 him and the most remote of the fixed stars that we can 
 see — nothing in comparison to the boundless infinity 
 which wo can hardly conceive. Then, lot is look be- 
 yond the oibiis of our brother worlds, and what do W8 
 behold! As many suns as there are particles of sand 
 on the seashore. We must believe them suns — their 
 light is their own, othorwije their distance would 
 render them invisible to us; they must have their 
 planets revolving around them, otherwise they are 
 useless, and shed forth their lustre on empty nothing- 
 ness. Then how multiplied must be the worlds under 
 heaven? If every star we see has even as many worlds 
 round it as your sun, invisible from your distances, 
 what then is our earth 1 A little speck of matter — a 
 star to the few planents of our luminary — nothing to 
 the worlds of o^her suns. And what is man ? A little 
 insect crawling on the surface of that speck, and 
 amused with the various trifles that surround him. 
 But he is more — he has that within him which will 
 leave its taberuacle of clay, and soar above all worlds 
 — he has a soul confined within the limits of his 
 present nature, which, freed from the cares and troubles 
 that now surround it, if depending on its Creator, will 
 live in Paradise through all eternity. Nor can we 
 suppose that the few souls which occupy the regions of 
 this world shall be the only inhabitants of the boundless 
 heavens — that the whole creation, which is perceptible 
 to our senses, was made for our use; that the millions 
 of enlightened bodies, which are visible only through 
 our telescopes, which do not benefit us in the least 
 degree, were created to excite our wonder. Impossible, 
 and still more improbable! for we cannot for a mo- 
 ment imagine that the great Creator of the universe 
 has limited his goodness to the trifling dimensions of 
 this earth, and bounded the creation of intelligent 
 beings to the inhabitations of such a limited sphere as 
 ours. 
 
 VANITY OF HUMAN WISHES. 
 
 There is nothing which stands so much in need of 
 restraint, and upon which, unfortunately, restraint is 
 so seldom imposed, as tlio inordinate desires of the 
 human heart. With justice may that heart be likened 
 to the fabled vessel of the Danaids, which, though every 
 efiFort was used to fill it, stood continually dry, for, 
 satiate all its appetites, gratify its every wish, some- 
 thing will still be wanting — it will still be craving 
 more. 
 
 The folly of indulging in immoderate desires may 
 be simply exemplified by the consideration that if our 
 wishes (as is frequently the case) are unattainable, 
 nothing can be more absurd than to form them ; and, 
 again, if they are easily attainable, what pledge or 
 what surety have we that gratification would result 
 from their accomplishment ? Do we not know from 
 experience that enjoyment begets satiety, satiety dis- > 
 gust 1 We have read that Alexander, after triumphing 
 over the whole habitable world, shed tears because 
 there remained no new worlds for him to conquer. 
 And, in like manner, though our wishes needed but to 
 be expressed to be gratified — though the objects of our 
 desires waited on our nod — yet would we go on to the 
 end of the chapter, forming new and artifictal appetites 
 when the old ones were appeased, and find ourselves 
 at last a miserable prey to discontent and dissatisfac- 
 tion. But, besides folly, there is also impiety in yield- 
 ing to our immoderate desires ; though we have not 
 the power, yet have we the wish to disturb the settled 
 order of nature's laws, and, indulging the cravings of 
 our diseased imaginations, we would presume even to 
 direct the liand of Providence to the accomplishment 
 of our mad ambition. 
 
 Lot us, then, check this vice, when alone it can bo 
 checked, namely, in its fancy; and let each of us, 
 looking upon this world with the eyes of a Seneca, 
 use those memorable words which dropped from his 
 lips at Athens, when, turning from it in disgust, he 
 said — ' Hv>w many ihiiigs are here which I do ant 
 want i' 
 
132 
 
 IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 CULLIVER IN UILLIPUT. 
 
 The original of this amusing scene, of which vre 
 g^Te an illubtration, is by A. Fleischmnn, a German 
 artist. Every one has heard of that most remarkable 
 of Dean Swift's productions, and the satirical ro- 
 mance of ' Gnlliver's Travel's ' displays to perfection 
 the charms of Swift's style ; and while the ordinary 
 reader sees and feeU only the wonder and fascina- 
 tion of the narrative, the courtiers and politicians of 
 his day recognised in the adventurer many satirical 
 allusions to the court and politics of England, and 
 ■various matters of secret history. Most every one 
 is familiar with the history of the famous ' Man 
 Mountain,' and those who are will readily recognize 
 the scene as very truthfully represented. Gulliver 
 is shipwrecked, and thrown upon an island, called 
 Lilliput, where, from fatigue, he falls asleep. On 
 awakening, and attempting to rise, he finds himself 
 unable to stir ; his hair is firmly fastened to the 
 ground, and strong ligatures bind his hands and 
 feet ; he hears a confused noise, but can see noth- 
 ing. Presently he feels something alive moving on 
 his body, and advancing towards his chin, and, 
 bending his eyes downward, he perceives a human 
 
 is about two feet in length. Small os they were, 
 however, they succeeded in capturing the great man, 
 and the emperor caused certain articles to be drawn 
 up to govern the actions of the great monster, which 
 we publish, as very amusing, and may not be ui\in- 
 teresting to our readers : ' His most sublime 
 majesty proposes to the Man Mountain, lately ar- 
 rived in our celestial dominions, the following arti- 
 cles, which, by a solemn oath, he will be obliged to 
 perform : — 
 
 Ist. The Man Mountain shall not depart from 
 our dominions without our license under our great 
 seal. 
 
 2d. He shall not presume to come into our me- 
 tropolis without our express order ; at which time 
 the inhabitants shall have two hours warning to 
 keep within doors. 
 
 3d. The said Man Mountain shall confine his 
 walks to the principal high roads, and not offer to 
 walk, or lie down, in a meadow or field of 
 corn. 
 
 4th. As he walks the said roads he shall take 
 the utmost care not to trample on the bodies of any 
 of our living subjects, their horses or carriages, nor 
 
 at our palace, at lielfaborac, the twelfth day of the 
 ninety-first moon of our reign.' 
 
 A TRAVELER'S TRICK. 
 
 During a period of a very active opposition be- 
 tween the rival coach proprietors on the Wexford 
 road, the down coach stopped at Hathnew, in the 
 county of Wicklow, to breakfast ; this repast, so in- 
 dispensable to a traveler among the Wicklow mour- 
 tains, was delayed, under various pretenses, till the 
 coachman's horn announced the moment of depar- 
 ture i in vain the passengers remonstrated against 
 this precipitancy ; he must drive to time, ond could 
 not delay. When at length he had succeeded in 
 getting his grumbling company together, one gen- 
 tleman was found wanting, and on ' mine host ' 
 opening the door of the breakfast-room, he found 
 him quietly seated at the deserted table. 
 
 ' The coach will be off,' exclaimed the land- 
 lord. 
 
 ' Apd so would I, too, could I have got a spoon to 
 eat my egg,' replied the guest. 
 
 ' A spoon, sir.' 
 
 ' Yes, sir, a spoon.' 
 
 creature, not six inches in height. In the meantime, 
 he feels a great tramping all over his body, which i 
 causes him great astonishmsnt. He roars so loud 
 that they all run back in affright, and some of them 
 in leaping from his body are severely hurt. He 
 feels a volley of arrows discharged at his left hand, 
 that prick like so many needles ; and others are dis- 
 charged at different parts of his body ; but their po- 
 tent weapons cause him no trouble. In the picture 
 may be seen two of the Lilliputions mounting, by 
 means of a ladder, the fearful height of his knee ; 
 others have been exploring the mysterious depths of 
 hie vest pocket, and arc making a precipitate re- 
 tr»at. One, evidently an artist, seated on the elbow 
 of the g^ant, is engaged in sketching the profile. 
 At the head of Gulliver is seen a regiment of the 
 king's soldier's prepared for the attack when the 
 imperial order is given. In fact, everything that 
 ingenuity could invent, is called into requisition, 
 and is here portrayed with a great deal of skill. 
 These Lilliputian figures are exceedingly well repre- 
 sented ; the faces are carefully colored, and show 
 the features and expression admirably. They are 
 about an inch in height, and tlie figure of UulliTer 
 
 GULLIVER IN LILLIPUT. - 
 
 take any of our subjects into his hands without their 
 own consent. 
 
 6th. If an express requires extraordinary des- 
 patch, the Man Mountain shall be obliged to "^arry 
 in his pocket the messenger and horse a six days' 
 journey, once in every moon, and return the said 
 messenger to our imperial presence. 
 
 6th. He shall be our ally against our enemies in 
 the island of Blefuscu, and do his utmost to destroy 
 their fleet that is now preparing to invade us. 
 
 7th. That the said Man Mountain shall, at his 
 time of leisure, be aiding our workmen to raise cer- 
 tain great stones, towards covering the wall of 
 the principal park and other of our royal build- 
 ings. 
 
 8th. That the said Man Mountain shall, on two 
 moon's time, deliver in an exact survey of the cir- 
 cumference of our dominions, by a computation of 
 his own paces around the coast. Lastly, that upon ' 
 his solemn oath to observe all the above articles, the 
 said Man Mountain shall have a daily allow- 
 ance of meat nnd drink sutficient for the support of 
 1724 of our subjects, with free access to our royal 
 J person, and other marks of our royal favor, given j 
 
 ' AMiy, why, where are my spoons ? Stop, stop 
 coach ; Jack, Pat, Joe, run every one of you ; stop 
 the horses — stop the coach, till I get my spoons,' 
 vociferated the landlord. 
 
 WhUe struck with consternation, each passenger 
 looked to his neighbor for an explanation of the 
 scene. In a few minutes a crowd had collected 
 around the carriage, to whom the robbery of the 
 spoons was detailed, with the resolution of the host, 
 that all the passangers should be searched, with the 
 assistance of his party. 
 
 He was about commencing his operation, 
 when out walked the diliatory passenger from the 
 breakfast table, who immediately demanded what 
 was the matter. 
 
 ' Matter !' roared the landlord ; ' have I not been 
 robbed of a dozen silver spoons by some of your 
 rascally company, and your blackguard coachman 
 is preventing me from searching ?' 
 
 ' Then drive on, Paddy— all's right !' exclaimed 
 the wag, and turning to the exasperated host, he 
 said, -look into the tea-pot for your spoons, and 
 foi the future make more haste with your break- 
 fast.' 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 233 
 
 IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 TUOMAS O NK1I.L 
 MICHAEL J. WALSH 
 
 ruopiiiKTon, 
 
 CONDUOTOB. 
 
 BOSTON, SATURDAY, NOVEMBER 20, 1858. 
 
 WILL THE DEMOCRATIC PARTY LEARN THE 
 LESSON? 
 When recently the floodgates of hate, intolerance 
 and crime burst their bonds, and swept over the land 
 like a deluge, the blighting influence was felt by every 
 good man, who, with clouded brow and heart of sor- 
 row, asked himself when, and where, and what, will be 
 the end of this persecution >. — when Freedom blushed 
 and Liberty hung her head for shame,and brotherly love 
 and common sense forsook the hind — when arson and 
 murder walked as hand-maids, and terror reigned su- 
 preme — when from the pulpit was preached proscrip- 
 tion and the knife, and the seat of justice was given up 
 to a partizan — when governors were elected to pro- 
 scribe, and the road to preferment alone lay through 
 the persecution of men born outside a certain line — 
 when the principles of republicanism and the truths of 
 democracy, upon which is built, and has prospered, 
 these United States, beyond anything which history 
 records, were in danger — at that time (not in the long 
 past, where memory fails, but more recently — the 
 present time) self-preservation compelled foreign born 
 citizens to cling more closely together, and await 
 each fearful act in the tragedy with apprehension and 
 fear. They were astonished to see even good men, 
 from all political parties, bow to the Moloch of this 
 new, but false, Americanism, which promised to re- 
 deem the country from the vile and polluted foot-prints 
 of ihe foreigner. They were like men on trial, whose 
 lives depended upon the ability of their advocates, and 
 awaited every turn in the fearful drama with intense 
 interest. 
 
 Did it, under these circumstances, require the stencil 
 of the engraver to indelibly impress upon the mind of 
 the foreigner the names and actions of friends and 
 of foes '! No ! by an instinct of nature, their names 
 are carefully preserved ; and in the innermost recesses 
 of the heart may be found the name of a Henry A. 
 Wise, who singly stemmed the torrent as it rolled 
 Southward, and said, ' Hither shaltthou come, but no 
 fariher,' and there, upeu Old Virginia's shore, the proud 
 waves of Know Nothingisra were dashed to pieces. 
 There, wiihin those hearts, may also be found the 
 name of a William L. Marcy, who, when solicited for 
 his opinion, declared that ' the prosperity of the United 
 States and the success of thpse principles to be incom- 
 patible' ; and, although its surges dashed against the 
 steps of the White House, he feared not, but 'believed 
 in tlie continued progress of the country, and the 
 speedy dissolution of these faUe theories.' 
 
 If, then, they can remember friends, — and they can, 
 — why ask them to forget enemiesi — enemies to the 
 best interests of the country — enemies to peace and 
 good government — enemies to ci\il and religious 
 libcny 1 
 
 That good and true men were entrapped into Know 
 Nothing lodges we firmly believe ; bui they soon left 
 such lodges, completely disgusted with the ami-repub- 
 lican doctrines there expounded. We njoice that 
 these men now belong to the Democratic party, where 
 they should be, and where they of right belong. We 
 endorse them for places of emolument and honor, and 
 are ready to work under their lead ; but those men 
 who remained in the Know Nothing lodges till 
 they found the party a sinking ship, and who, for polit- 
 ical lafety, or perhaps through worse motives, joined 
 the Democratic parry, still hugging their intolerance 
 and hate, and, by intrigue, placing themselves upon 
 , committees, which should alone be composed of the 
 most reliable, is to tu a matter for question and com- 
 plaint. 
 
 The nomination of such men to office is an infliction 
 on the feelings of the Irish adopted citizen. He can- 
 not — he will not — vote for them. True to his princi- 
 
 ples, he Is satisfied to remain in the minority until 
 such time as the people will be satisfied with the pres- 
 ent rule, and Massachusetts shall become Democratic. 
 Bargaining or coalescing with any faction outside his 
 party ho especially repudiates. Nor can the Democra- 
 tic party point to any benefit they have ever derived 
 from such coalitions. Honest in their own propositions, 
 they believed other parties to be equally honest in 
 theirs ; but they have been universally deceived when 
 it came to the ballot-box. 
 
 The adopted citizens are a sterling half of the De- 
 mocracy of Massachusetts. They complain that they 
 are slighted in receiving no places upon committees, or 
 nominated for offices, even where their vote is as fifty 
 to ten. There is something in this ; yet we are glad 
 that, besides being good Democrats, they are true par- 
 tisans, and are seldom known to split their tickets. To 
 them we would say : gentlemen, all this is your own 
 fault; you neglect to attend preliminary meetings, 
 where committees are formed ; the only active part 
 you take is the casting of your ballot, and of the earlier 
 organizations you therefore know nothing. Alter 
 this ; attend the club rooms and ward meetings ; take 
 more interest in all political actions, and you will not 
 be either slighted or neglected ; you will then be an 
 integral part of that political organization whose right 
 arm you are, and whose principles you so much ad- 
 mire and cherish. 
 
 The next thing to truthfulness to our principles and 
 for success, is a good system of organization, carried 
 out in every detail and minutiae, from State Central 
 down to town, ward or village committee. Elections 
 for such places should be done fairly, publicly, and by 
 the people, or by committees selected by them. The 
 character of those selected should be above suspicion, 
 and, as in higher offices, should be subject to scrutiny 
 and investigation. 
 
 Court not aid from the isms ; it is a stooping from 
 your lofty position ; rather let the Democratic party 
 remain as it now is, the only party which has true, 
 coNSTiTDTiONAL Union PRINCIPLES. Seek uot to 
 strengthen the party by the addition of an element not 
 congenial ; thus, if the whole Know Nothing remnant 
 entered by your front door, men more true to Democra- 
 tic principles would retire by the rear. They wish no 
 infusion of poison into their veins. 
 
 The opposition complain that the adopted citizens 
 go all one way. as sheep follow a leader. Such is not 
 the case ; they are true lovers of the Union ; not sec- 
 tionalists nor proscriptionists, but true Democrats; and 
 if the Democratic leaders study not the purity of their 
 motives, they cannot drive them into the ranks of the 
 opposition. All they may he driven to do is, to cease 
 to take an active part in politics, and remain from the 
 polls. Slick close to principles — make strict party 
 nominations — pander neither to old Whigs nor Know 
 Nothings, for they have always sold yoa — but fearless- 
 ly fight in the cause of truth ; learn lessons by each 
 defeat — work on — work calmly, coolly, and without 
 noise — and you must, in the righteousness of your 
 cause, sooner or later be victorious. 
 
 making England a secondary maratime power. The 
 docks and harbor of Liverpool cost millions, yet we 
 have seen vessels sunk there while riding at anchor 
 in an ordinary winter storm. The harbor of Gahvay 
 needs but a few thousand pounds, and no vessel by 
 storm could suffer damage or injury. The British 
 government has covertly made a contract with the 
 Cunard Company to carry the mails till 1867, conse- 
 quently, this is an exclusion of all others save the 
 Liverpool line. The excuse offered for this high- 
 handed piece of political infamy is bare-faced. A 
 new source of trade, a new source of profit, and a 
 shorter route for transmission of mails ought at all 
 times be supported by the government. Must 
 the interests of commerce and of mankind b'e thrown 
 back by British trickery ? Will not the united 
 voice of Ireland demand a subsidy for the Galway 
 line, so that it may be developed to success ? Are not 
 the Irish themselves, in seeking three or four differ- 
 ent lines, aiding in destroying the success of even 
 one ? Let them unite in establishing the Galway 
 line, and they will be aiding their favorite schemes 
 in the best way possible. Divide and lose, or unite 
 and eonquor. The British government sees Ireland 
 looming up in England's way; and, while they hold 
 out promises with one band, they are stabbing 
 Ireland's interests with the other. This is the 
 secret out ; Banquo's ghost was but a fool to Mac- 
 beth, in comparison with the growing importance of 
 Ireland in the scale of nations to England ; but, 
 despite her power, policy or wealth, the hand writ- 
 ing on the wall is against her ; the God that made 
 Ireland a nation will be with her. Watch them 
 closely. 
 
 DOUBLE DEALING OF THE BRITISH GOVERN- 
 MENT. 
 
 While the British ministers have been compli- 
 menting the Galway Steam Company on the success 
 they have achieved in making short passages be- 
 tween the two continents, and the new feature it 
 demonstrates for commerce, besides the benefits 
 they acknowledge it would be to both governments 
 to be able to communicate between Washington and 
 London in six days, they have been secretly in- 
 triguing to crush that project. And now that that 
 cable, which was to have been such a source of pro- 
 fit, and an element of power, and being, as usual, 
 usurped by that greedy government, seems a ukad 
 9EA sEi'i-i-.NT, they d&re not fall back on the next (or 
 first) best thing — a passage of five days from Europe 
 to America — because, forsooth, Ireland would be 
 brought into notice to the exclusion of or at the ex- 
 pense of England. 
 
 The building up of a seaport in Ireland would be 
 
 THE HIBERNIA FIRE COMPANV. 
 
 We are assured that this fine body of men, with 
 their splendid steam tire engine and apparatus, will 
 arrive in Boston this month on a visit. We trust 
 that the city will see that they are received in such 
 a manner as will reflect credit upon Boston, and be a 
 fitting welcome to so distinguished a body of men. 
 They are descendents of Revolutionary sires and 
 heroes, whose names illuminate and adorn the 
 brightest pages of our country's history. This com- 
 pany was instituted in 17.52, and founded by the 
 society of the Friendly Sons of St. Patrick, and 
 numbered in their ranks such men as Commodore 
 John Barry, Benjamin Franklin, Robert Morris, 
 Blair McClenahen, Samuel Meredith, Hugh Shiel, 
 John Dunlap, Col. Nixon, Col. McPherson, and 
 nearly all the Friendly Sons of St. Patrick — a society 
 into which the Father of his Country, General 
 George Washington, was adopted and inducted, 
 partaking of their good cheer at the usual anniver- 
 saries. Twenty of these men subscribed nearly a 
 hall million of dollars to carry on the war of the 
 Revolution, at a time when clouds and difficulties 
 overspread the path of Washington and the Fathers 
 of the Republic. The company was and is. com- 
 posed of wealthy citizens of the Quaker city, and 
 are in physical appearance, we understand, fully up 
 to the standard, while in gentlemanly bearing they 
 cannot be surpassed. Colonel Page, who commands 
 them, is an old and an honored soldier of the war 
 of 1812, and has filled the responsible positions of 
 postmaster and collector. He is an able lawyer, and 
 most highly respected. 
 
 The illustrious name of McDonough — a name 
 which Britain felt on the lakes, and which i« known 
 to fame — alone boasts of having four brothers mem- 
 bers of the company. We trust their advent among 
 us will be the inauguration of a fraternity of feeling 
 which will last forever, and that the good fellow- 
 ship about to begin by this visit will lead to many 
 happy reunions. The hospitality, warm feeling and 
 discipline of the Boston firemen is proverbial, and 
 on this occasion we expect they will render the 
 viuit of the Pennsylvania boys a happy one. 
 
234 
 
 IRISH mSCELLANY. 
 
 (Written for the Iri»li Misci'llaDy ] 
 THE CONSUMPTIVE. 
 
 BT 'niLLIAU II. UUSAUO. 
 
 1 am dviiig, slowly (hiiif;, 
 
 I am lading t'luui ilie lanli, 
 'Wht'ii the leal'upoii the uillow 
 
 Aud tlic violvt ha« its binli; 
 Tiiey will bviiU above my j;rave stouc, 
 
 Tlicy will tcciit the balmy air; 
 But I rhall not l^now their fraf;r«DCe, 
 
 Or take heed that they ore thtrc. 
 
 J am growing tair.ter, fainter; 
 
 Every ^etllug Mm 1 ^ee 
 Conivn a whimper alwats Faying, 
 
 It will ^i^e no more t'ur me. 
 Thus the fuminer, with its roses, 
 
 Aud the winter, with itn t^nows, 
 Have gone, and rlill I'm wuilini; 
 
 For the clmtch-yarU'o sweet repose, 
 
 1 am Finlving, surely sinking, 
 
 To the quiet ol'tlie tomb, 
 But it cannot chill my sjiirit, 
 
 For I think not ol'iis gloom; 
 Tis the doorway I must enter 
 
 To the endless bliss above, 
 Where shall rest the weary laden, 
 
 And shall know that ' God is love.* 
 M'asbington, rsovcniberO. 
 
 Enlerfd recording to Act of Congress, in the year 18o8. by 
 Thomas U'Keill, in the DHirict Court ol Mas.'-achusetts. 
 
 REMINlSCliXCES IX THE 
 
 A 
 
 — IN THE — 
 
 EXGLISH AND AMEKICAX SERVICES. 
 BY THOJIAS O'NlilLL. 
 
 DEDICATED TO GE.VKIIAI, JAMES SHIELDS, 
 
 THE OKEAM. 
 
 Wliile our regiment biy at Ilounslow barrack?, 
 sometime in the year 183-, one of those barbarous 
 Bccncis, called by the code a duel, was enacted on 
 the Heath, between two young foreigners, a Ger- 
 man and a Frenchman. It happened thus : — The 
 German, a young man, accompanied by his mother, 
 was on a \isit to London, attending some business 
 at the law courts ; the object of their journey ac- 
 complished, they were on the eve of returning to 
 Germany. Before their departure, however, the 
 young gmtltman visited one of those fashionable 
 places of resort with which London abounds, viz : 
 a club house. 'While there, the Frenchman, under 
 the influence of wine, offered him a grievous 
 insult; he demanded an explanation, and received 
 a blow. Cards were cxchmged, and the nialter re- 
 ferred to their respective frimds. The club-house, 
 who instead of effecting an explanation, which both 
 parties seemed to desire, insisted upon a deadly 
 combat. 
 
 AV'hy the principals in this sad affair consented to 
 fight, after each had expressed a desire for an ami- 
 cable arrangement, I am at loss to conceive. The 
 Frenchman was satisfied to acknowledge that, while 
 under the infiuence of diink, he had done wrong, 
 and was willing to render an apology. The young 
 German was salished to accept the apology. But 
 60 much mystery had their fi lends contrived to 
 throw around the affair, that it was decided by them 
 that nothing short of a combat would satisfy the 
 offended ■ laws of honon" 
 
 The morning of the duel rose cold and clear, and, 
 at about four o'clock, some eighteen persons — the 
 •writer amongst them — assembled on the Heath, 
 and, after the usual preliminaries, the combatants 
 were placed, the pistols loaded and handed to them, 
 the signal was given, and both tired together, when 
 the young German fell dead. 
 
 The instigators to the terrible affray fled the mo- 
 ment it was ascertained that their victim was dead, 
 having the body to the care of strangers. .\n in- 
 quest was held, and a verdict of manslaughter re- 
 turned against the principal and seconds — their 
 
 names to the jury unknown. He was buried in a 
 churchyard near the Heath. 
 
 His widowed mother received a shock fro n which 
 she never rceovired. She r turned to Humb irg, 
 and soon after followed her murdoed am to that 
 bourne from whence no travolcr n i urns She U ft an 
 only daughter, then about seiu ntccn years of age. I 
 have often thought of this n cljncholy affair, and, 
 while in the neighborhood, used to visit the lonely 
 spot, and brood over the fate of the young German; 
 in fact, the circumstances made a deep and lasting 
 impression upon me. 
 
 A short time after this, I had a most singular 
 dream. I thought that I had the body of the Ger- 
 man e^humed, and conveyed to Germany, where I 
 saw it interrid in the churchyard of his native city, 
 where the ashes of his parents reposed ; that when 
 the funeral solemnities were ended, I returned with 
 his sister to view the patrimony left her under such 
 aillicting circumstances ; that she then offered to 
 make me her confidential agent, which I declined on 
 account of being a soldier ; that she urged upon 
 me to purchase my discharge, and make Germany 
 my place of abode. The day at length came, as I 
 thought, for my return, I wished to see old Thames 
 again, and to rejoin my old comrades, who were 
 doing duty at Kensington, and that, on the morn- 
 ing, the most pressing inducements were urged by 
 the young woman to encourage my stay ; that 
 matters were represented in so fluttering a light, 
 that to any young man, seeking a home and a wife, 
 they must be clear; but still I persevered in declin- 
 ing, and, turning towaids the German ocean, I soon 
 found myself in the canteen, relating my adventures 
 to my troopmates — the younger ones approving my 
 decision, while the old chaps said I was a fool 
 for letting slip so good an offer. Such was the sub- 
 stance of this singular dream, which, with the sad 
 event that no doubt gave rise to it, was soon forgot- 
 ten or lost sight of in the busy and changing scenes 
 of a soldier's life. 
 
 Five years afterwards I visited the city of Cork, 
 having obtained at Ipswich, where we were sta- 
 tioned, a furlough for fci.\ weeks. At the time of 
 my intended return, a succession of violent storms 
 set in, the like of which had not occurred in the 
 memory of the oldest inhabitant. In consqucnce of 
 the severity of the weather, I was unable to return 
 to time ; I therefore had my furlough renewed by 
 Colonel Turner for fourteen days additional time. 
 Every attempt made by the steam-packets to reach 
 Engli.sh ports had failed ; they were compelled to 
 put back. The Killarney steam-packet was lost 
 within fourteen miles of Cork, causing dreadful 
 suffeiing and loss of life. This deterred me from 
 venturing a voyage from Coik, so that I had a 
 second time to obtain a renewal of my furlough. I 
 then concluded to travel overland to Dublin. 
 
 It was a cold evening in the month 'of March that 
 I took my seat in the mail-coach from Wiuthrop 
 street for the capital. Amongst the passengers, my 
 attention v.as soon attracted to a young woman. 
 She was dressed in deep mourning, and seemed to 
 be travelling without a companion. Her habili- 
 ments told of SOI row, and her silent, melancholy 
 demeanor quietly repelled all intrusion from a stran- 
 ger. Genuine sympathy fears to intiude upon real 
 sorrow, however much it may desire to alleviate 
 it. 
 
 Our passenger list consisted of five individuals — 
 a gentleman and his wife, the young lady alluded 
 to, isnother young man, and the writer, l"hc 
 weather, for an Irish climate, was intensely cold, 
 and at each stopping-place the gentlemen got out to 
 stretch their limbs, and attend somewhat to the 
 comfort of the inner man. 
 
 I need hardly observe that it was not through 
 lack of courtesy, or respect for the sex, that two 
 young Irishmen hesitated to offer, at least, some at- 
 tention to a lonely lady. Ucr silent, reserved, and 
 
 ! melancholy manner, in our eyes, seemed to forbid 
 I any attention upon our part, as an intrusion upon 
 j the sacredncas of her giief, We, therefore, con- 
 sulted with the married folks, who are more privi- 
 leged in such cases than bachelors, and the husband 
 resolved to offt^r her customary civilities. Accord- 
 ingly, at the next stopping-place, he presented her 
 with some cake and a glass of wine. She accepted 
 the refreshments in a lady. like manner, thus mani- 
 festing that, notwithstanding her grief, she had a 
 heart that could appreciate the kindness and cour- 
 tesy of a stranger. 
 
 At a town called Durrow we stopped for supper, 
 and it then became the duty of the bachelors to at- 
 tend to the wants of the young lady. My compan- 
 ion and myself alternately supplied her wants until 
 we arrived at Dublin, Here the married couple 
 parted with us, and my companion continued his 
 jeiurney to the north, so that it became my duty to 
 attend to the lonely traveller, I inquired how much 
 further she intended to travel, and where she de- 
 sired to stop for the present. She informed me that 
 she wished to put up at a first class hotel, that the 
 was on her way to London, and was a perfect stran- 
 ger in the country, and had no knowledge of the 
 place, and politely thanked me for my proferred 
 services, I conducted her to the Imperial Hotel, 
 and promised to call upon her on the evening 
 in time to see her to the mail-hoat, and, as I was 
 going to London, should be happy to see her to her 
 1 journey's end, 
 
 I I spent the remainder of the day amongst old ac- 
 quaintances, and thought little of my charge until 
 it was time to prepare for the boat, I went to the 
 I hotel, and, after tending up my name, the came 
 I down, and, after a while, placed in my hands a 
 ' purse to defray her expenses, and confidingly placed 
 herself under my protection. 
 
 She had already told nie she was a foreigner. By 
 her accent I took her to be French, and supposed 
 that her visit to London might be to procure a sit- 
 uation as governess in some family among the * up- 
 per crust ;' but as she did not think fit to tell me 
 the nature of her business, I considered it none of 
 mine to pry into it. 
 
 'We started for Liverpool, and although my 
 thoughts naturally dwelt upon the strangeness of my 
 position, as the voluntary chaperon of a young and 
 interesting stranger, I was careful in avoiding the 
 slightest hint of the kind to her. We appeared mu- 
 tually phased with each other; but still our conver- 
 sations were limited to ordinary common place 
 topics, or those connected with our journey, lu 
 due time we arrived at Liverpool, Making there a 
 stay of but a few hours, we started fur London, via 
 Manchester and Birmingham, At the latter place, 
 my charge found she had been travelling too fast for 
 her strength, and had to lay up for a day's rest. 
 Though I w as most anxious to get back to my regi- 
 ment, yet I felt loath to leave her alone before the'd 
 arrived at the end of her journey, and, having some 
 days of my last furlough yet to run, I determined to 
 wait for her; this, indeed, she solicited, if I could 
 at all comply without encroaching upon my previous 
 arrangements. 
 
 During our stay here, I asked her what part of 
 London she intended stopping in, and whether it 
 was her intention to remain there any length of 
 time. She told me that .she had some business to do 
 in London and a town in the western suburbs, and 
 that she would like to get accommodations in some 
 quiet, respectable house, for a short time, at the 
 
 west end, 
 
 When we arrived in London, I procured lodgings 
 for her in Tottenham-Court Road, for one month, 
 with a privilege of renewing the term if desired, in- 
 tending to take the steamer the next day for Ipsw ich; 
 and reach home ere another night should close over 
 me. 
 
 The young lady invited me to sup with her that 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 235 
 
 cvcniig, nnd coifi-r «i'h her ns to the liu>incsa completed the pious mission wh'uh had induced her 
 
 which had hnniHht her to London. 1 '.hei fully ae- to leave her home. 
 
 cepted the invitation, and after flipper, when we 'Icnnnot,' naid he, ' ivithold my love and ap- 
 
 were alone together, she said, with a sad proval from fuc h a ] uipote.' 
 
 eniile | I immediately took advantage of tl^e permission 
 
 • I am almost ashamed to communicate the nature thus cordially given, and lost no ti ne in waiting 
 of my business, but it has now become necea.-Bry,for npon my late companion, w lio was ovcijoyed to see 
 did I allow such a friend as you to leave me, with- me, and received me w iih all the open and uiireserv- 
 out advising with you, I do not know where to seek ed contidenee of manner which real and sincere 
 so kind a confidant.' ■ friendship always inspires. AVe at once proceeded 
 
 I assured her that I would cheerfully advise and to London — for I should mention that she had come 
 aid her as though she were my sister. I down to Ipawieh, and had an interview with the 
 
 She then produced a map of Ilounslow Heath, colonel — and liaving made all the necessarry arrange- 
 with adjoininj; towns, villages and roads, and trac- ments, the body was c.\humcd by permission of the 
 ing the line through Ilummersmith and Brentford on authorities, and by aid of an undertaker was pro- 
 to the Ileath. Resting her Hiiger here, she said — i pcrly laid for transpor'ation. 
 
 ' This place is about thirteen milts from here. That duty being fultilled, and everything being in 
 Here I wish to spend an hour. Here my only readiness for her departure for home, the young lady 
 brother, my only friend in life, was shot in a duel made mo certain proposals, which, had I accepted, 
 some five years ago. The blow was too much for would, no doubt, have eventually resulted in estab- 
 niy poor mother, who sank beneath the affliction lishing u more intimate rela ionship between us. 
 and soon followed him to the grave.' | But, as I preferred to see a little more of the world 
 
 At this point in her narration, I involuntarily before I settled down in the character of a Benedict, 
 started, and gazed earnestly and inquiringly into the married man, I felt constrained to decline her 
 her face. Too much absorbed, however, in the generous offers, and feign of their probable purport, 
 recollections which the melancholy history awaken- , I accompanied her on board the steamer in which 
 ed to notice my ma^ner, she continued — ] she took passage for home, and, on parting, she 
 
 ' Here.in this churchyard, he was buried,' pointing presented me with a handsome souvenir to keep in 
 to Lslesworth, ' and I have come to fulfil a promise remembrance the most singular fiiendship 1 had 
 made to my dying mother, and to carry out my ever contracted. 
 
 long cherished dcfires, by removing his dear remains »«»•*** 
 to our own country — to fatheihind." In the year 1840, a great fire occurred in the city 
 
 I remained rivetted in attention, while she pro- ' of Hamburg. M.my people went over from Eng- 
 duced some of the London papers, published at the land to view the luins of that city, the writer among 
 time of the duel, containing the facts given in evi- ! others. On this occasion, I again, for the last time, 
 dence at the coroner's jury. She then conti- saw the heroine of my story at her own home. She 
 nucd — was thf-n a happy wife, and mother of seveial chil- 
 
 ' I am alone in the world, and although above its dren. She received me with the -warmest and most 
 necessities, yet 1 had a want, one that could never cordial fiiendship. I still correspond with herhus- 
 be sati.-fied. I have never known happiness since band. 
 
 the deaths of brother and mother. I have long re- Thus was my nocturnal vision almost literally 
 solved to remove hence the remains of njy own dear realized five years after 1 had dreamed it, 
 brother, and lay them beside his parents. It has 
 
 been my thoughts by day and my dreams by night. 
 1 will do ic now." 
 
 She burst into tears. I took up the Times, and, 
 placing my finger upon my own name, I called her 
 attention to it, telling her that, in me, she beheld 
 
 QUACKS--THEOLOCICAL, MEDICAL AND PO- 
 LITICAL. 
 
 Boston. Nov. 4, 1853. 
 Editor of the Iiish JlisccUany : — 
 
 Dear ,"<ir — Everv one will admit that in these United 
 
 one of the eye-witnesses of the tragedy ; that I had States the above-named precocious prefji-sors are al- 
 seen her brother alive, had seen him fall, and that I lowed a larj^er laiiiude than is safe for cither morals, 
 was the person, there named, who gave evidence in patient, or nation. 
 
 the case of the inquest. I produced my furlough to I Being myself willing to rest my salvation on truths 
 show her that the names were identical. I at once of Oevine Kevelaiion, I have no syn.pathy in common 
 resolvea to accompany her, assuring her that, with- j ^''h ^''""' Love, Mormoni>m, MiUeiism, or any other 
 out the aid ot any map, I would show her the spot of ihe ihousami and one isms growingout of ihe heated 
 where her brother met his death, and where his body ' ""d befogged bruin of an inebriate or a maniac, 
 lav interred. | Being bl< ss< d wiih a tolerable good conslitulion, I 
 
 Were it not that she knew I belonged to the ' ''"'''« "> "'""''' '•"= ^''■'" "' *" f^"*"' '^" ^ """ ""' '"=■ 
 army, and that I showed her letters addressed to ce>sitated lo seek the advice or assisiance of the second 
 me while at home, she might y;M be excused f^, person in this odious trio; bui,believing that for cv. ry ill 
 doubting the truth of my statement, so angular ; '^''•'^'' '^■'■'^ '"'"'''"'''''" '^'■'■''" '^''"'' "'^^°"'"""' "'*'' 
 
 were the coincidences which it involved. She was, 
 however, convinced, and now earnestly entreated 
 me not to leave her until her sad mission had been 
 fulfilled. 
 
 Next morning I fulfilled my promise, and guided 
 her to the places of her poor brother's death and 
 burial, and, on again leaving her at her hjdging", it 
 
 provided a cure. Who is so likely to know what to ad- 
 
 Uiiiiister as ihose men whu have made mcdiiine and 
 
 men their study from boyhood to grey hairs, copsum- 
 
 ing oceans of midnight oil, probing the se-erets of ihe 
 
 kingdoms, animal, vigclable and mineral? Believing 
 
 the above, the best aovice to give a sick man, in my 
 
 opinion, is to con-ult a doctor. Let him be sure he has 
 
 no bngns M. I), to diug him ; and, if it is Gjd's will, he 
 was with strong feelings of .egret duty compelled ; ^.,,| ^^^,„^„. jf „„,^ ,,^ ^i„ j;, 
 
 me to say farewell.' .^yii,^ ^^^^ jj^j^j p^.^^,^^ j^, ,1^^ American family of 
 
 I returned to my old companions inarms, and re- ' q,,^,^^, „ith vour permission, I will make a few more 
 sumed my duty. In a few days afterwards the col- extended remarks, it being more dangerous in a na- 
 onel se^nt for me, and. after some conversation about ,|„n„i point of vu.w. As it is wi h individuals, soil 
 the sf.rm, which had detained me, he at length of,e„ is with nations. Now, sir, would it not be a de- 
 alluded to the duel on the Heath, at Ilounslow. p,„rable sighi to see a stiong, healihy, vigorous and fat 
 to which I had been a witness. He drew from me u-llow, like Uncle Sam, persuaded he was ailing, and 
 the particulars of my strange meeting and subse- humhuggcJ into ihe l.cliif that he wanted copious 
 quent acquaintance with the young lady; af'er bleidini:, niade to strip off lii_- good suit (itio Constiiu- 
 whieh he told me that I was at liberty to return to lion), and lie down on a bed of moral reform, there to 
 London, wait upon, and aid her until she had fully I be blistered with Black Kepublicanism, and dosed with 
 
 the bitotrj of Know Noihingism. For thi-i magnan- 
 imeus i hristian and jihil.inir ipie course of treatment 
 the qurfcks would only require that our H'>oil Uncle 
 wmild giow no taller nor broader; ih.it lovely crea- 
 inres in crinoline should practice at the bar, in the pul- 
 pit, and .'trut in bloomer costume on the liu>tii'gs ; 
 put fat and crea-y negroes into Giib.^rnatorial chairs, 
 and cotisider men hoin in Inland connecting links be- 
 tween men and moi.kies ; that it requires twenty-one 
 jiais residence to place liimupona level, iniclleetually 
 and nationally, w iih ibe bla( k man ; but, above all, ihtt 
 none but those to the 'manor born' should ever taste a 
 tea-spooiful of treasury pap. 
 
 Tliis giganiic swindle was a'tcmpted a short liiro 
 since, and had partially suececdid ; but the pliy.-ician 
 came (one J.iines Buchanan), kicked ihe quack-- out of 
 door, set the half starved dupe (Sam) on bis feet again, 
 give him a good suit of Buik-skin, louel/cd all ihe 
 sore spots with a Demociatic salve, ailiuinistered ballot- 
 box pilh, g'Ve him a Union walking-kane in his hand, 
 keUration of Independence in his tiut, and sent biia 
 forth ri jiiieing. Thanks to that good practiiioncr, the 
 patent is now convalescent. 
 
 Kcally, Mr. Kdiior, it is amusing to hear these men 
 rave about their Pilgrim and revoluiiooary fathers ; 
 self'consii uted patricians, they firget that ilieie were 
 revoluiioiiaiy cow-boys as weil; that the latierwereas 
 eighty per cent to ibe former, and that they have, to a 
 greater extent, observed ihe divine ii junction, ' in- 
 crea-,e and multiply,' the pttnieijiants in war not hav- 
 ing time lo spare fur that mutually benefitting (om- 
 mand. As well mi^ht ibe leopard ibink lo change his 
 spots as one of ihose genileujcn lo bide his oiigin. 
 You will not he in his company many minutis bclora 
 h will give \ou uniuistakaule etidenee of his cow-boy 
 descent. 
 
 There is an old saying that ' he who forgets a favor 
 done must be lowly born.' Ii is parliculai ly applica- 
 ble to ihe class we allude to. They are never wdUng to 
 aeknowltilge the services uf such men as Mniitgouiery, 
 l.al'ayetie, or UtCalb. They done it all tliemselves, 
 or else they will tell you those noble souls gave iheir 
 fortunes aLd shtd their blood for inieresied oiutives ; 
 an\ thing but from love lor liberty. 
 
 Mr. Editor, lou mi.y be sure the sons of noble rcvo- 
 luiionary sires never burned convents, or were guilty 
 uf sawing the head called after the hero of New Or- 
 leans from the bow of a nation j1 ship, or of breaking 
 a slab of marble, intended for a national monuiuenc to 
 the Father of bis Countiy, for no other reason than he- 
 cau;e it was pteserted by tue must liberal man and 
 Cnriotian that perhaps ever oecu^iiid the I'apal chair 
 — the only monarch in Euiip':; that stooped to ihe 
 same condescension — the only nionareh in liuroje that 
 has expre^sed to our (jenoaese ex Consul, E. C. Les- 
 ter, the livliest iuiereat and .sympathy towards our 
 country. 
 
 No, sir, the sons of true revolutionary sires can be 
 found f.,llowing the honest and honorable pursuits of 
 life with credit to themselves and honor to ilieir coun- 
 try, iiisuUing nobody, and by nobody insulted. You 
 Can also Hud a fair proportion of their mouldering 
 bones scattered overevety field of Mexico, more than 
 enough to direct the stranger fioui ihe Hio Grande to 
 Monterey, fiom Vera Cnu lo the capital, while tie 
 American of the new school and one idea can be 
 found peddling pe.i-nuts and pop corn, or, during the 
 war, busied themselves crying txiras with the latest 
 news. And, to cap the climax, they pervert the Eng- 
 lish language by cidling themselves Americans and 
 Republicans. I had ho|>ed that the late election would 
 have seen their race run. We must wait, however, 
 till jiublic sentiment through ihe ballot-box, not, long 
 hence, I hope, will give them down ilie Banks. Wiih 
 luucli respect, I subscribe myself yours, 
 
 A M,»nsu BoT. 
 
 G.vziNU before a mirror cannot aid in acquiring 
 bctutllul sniiles half so well as lo turn the g'Ze in- 
 ward, lo waich thai the heart keeps un-iillieil from the 
 reflection of evil, and is illuuiinatcd and beauiiticd by 
 all twcct thoughts. 
 
236 
 
 IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 IRELAND AS IT WAS AND AS IT IS. 
 
 Charles Levir, iu that hplcnilid romance of liii, now 
 in ciiurse of publication, entitled ' Davenport Uunn,' 
 has delinoalcd the workio);; of a great, thorough, silent 
 revolution, which, under the au«picea ol government, 
 bad taken place in the suciul condition of Ireland. It 
 treats of the creation of a new gentry — the formation of 
 an economical order of landed proprietors — the oblit- 
 eration of the debts, miseries, and multiplied embar- 
 rassments of live hundred years. To the humanitarian, 
 no sadder spectacle has presented itself during the past 
 half of the nineteenth cenlurv, than the impoverished 
 condition of a noble island — in itself capable of sup- 
 porting a denser population than any pnrt of Europe 
 — yet destined to witness the savage scenes of creditors 
 turned to beasts of prey, and debtors migrating in mil- 
 lions, from the homes of their fathers, to escape the 
 prison or the poorhousc. England, too, which had 
 before successfully governed nations, from the dusky 
 Hindoo to the far-ofi" trapper of the Hudson Bay, had 
 failed in this instance to make of Ireland anything but 
 a recruiting ground for her regiments, and a source of 
 constant terror to her government. Revolution and 
 misery went hand in hand, and each attempt to amelio- 
 rate the condition of society ieemcd only to breed fresh 
 disorder. It was in such condition that the bold un- 
 dertaking was planned, projecting a relief to Ireland 
 from debt and discredit, and the development of every 
 industrial resource that could contribute to the happi- 
 piness of her people. Heroic statesmanship was requir- 
 ed to devise such expedient and determined spirit to 
 carry out the details ol application ; but it was done, 
 and, under the operation of the Encumbered Esta'es 
 Bills, we find that a revolution has been effected. The 
 present state of Ireland resulting from this course of 
 legislation is as dillerent from its former state as Prus- 
 sia is from Italy, or Massachusetts from Mexico. The 
 Irish papers, too, that have never heretofore indicated 
 favor toward government policy, except this at last 
 from their strictures, and in the files brought by the 
 last steamer, give some very favorable summaries of 
 results. Amongst others, we find an abstract of the 
 proceedings of the Encumbered Estates Court, from 
 the filling of the first petition on the 25th of October, 
 1846, to 3lst of August, 1S58, being the termination of 
 the ninth and last session of the commission. This 
 document is a highly instructive and suggestive one. 
 It appears that the total amount of purchase money re- 
 ceived by the court between the above dates was £23,- 
 101,093 Gs, 7«, and the gross amount of funds distribu- 
 ted £21,934,696 Os 9d, leaving a balance on hand of 
 j;i, 526,397 5s lOd. The amount of purchase money 
 paid by English, Scotch and foreign buyers was only 
 £3,160,224, leaving a residue of £2,000,809 63 7d 
 amonst the Irish purchasers. Thus, it will be seen 
 that nearly twenty-two millions of hopeless indebted- 
 ness hare been cleared off, and the industry and pro- 
 dnctive resources of Ireland benefitted nominally to 
 the same, but, in reality, to a much larger amount. 
 Once liberated from the incubus of this enormous bur- 
 den, fructified by the capital returned to it through in- 
 direct channels, the soil of Ireland will show that it is 
 fully capable of sustaining a population much larger 
 than it has hitherto supported, The Irish laborer can 
 henceforth earn wages sufiicient to support his family 
 in comfort, because the future holders of the land will 
 be free from debt, and have the means of cultivating it. 
 In this connection, a contemporary, the N. T. Herald, 
 in discussing the same change, well says : — 
 
 ■ There ia one curious fact connected with the mea- 
 8ur« which has worked out these great changes and 
 is worth mentioning. The pride of family is, as is 
 well known, one of the strongest sentiments which 
 males the Irish heart. All classes arc more or lets 
 influenced by it, and the commonest laborer who cbd 
 claim a pure Milesian descent, it as proud of it as 
 the oldest ennobled families of the invasion ere of 
 theirs.' 
 
 One of the greatest difficulties which legislators had 
 to deal with in devising a remedy for the social evils 
 by which Ireland was afflicted, was that of breaking 
 up the strong ties which bound the people to their old 
 
 traditions. When the Encumbered Estates act was 
 first resolved upon, it was apprehended by many that 
 it would leail to an immense influx of English and 
 Scotch proprietors, and cxcilo warfare between the j 
 adherents of the old families and the new ones. So far 
 from this anticipation being realijed, it will be seen 
 from the figures that only a seventh of the whole 
 amcunt of property sold has passed into foreign hands, 
 whilst the remainder has been purchased by Irish capi- 
 tjilists. It has been ascertained, curious to say, that a 
 large proportion of these latter are branches of the 
 families of the original proprietors, who, having had the 
 good sense to prefer honest industry to helpless depen- 
 dence, were enabled to amass sufticicnt money in trade 
 to purchase back portions of the estates, which the im- 
 providence of their elders had sacrificed. From these 
 views of the successful social reform now progressing 
 in Ireland, we may safely set it down that two results 
 will follow — first, Ireland will rapidly advance in 
 wealth, not less than in commercial and political im- 
 portance in the British Union, and, second, the migra- 
 tions from there to the Western World will no longer 
 be on the scale that has hitherto so startled staticians 
 in this country, but will subside to a very moderate 
 outflow of people. 
 
 TOURING IT IN IRELAND. 
 
 All Europe, observes the Galway Vindicator, has 
 become unelassic ground. The footsteps of cocknies 
 are everywhere, and the Smiths and Jonesesihave en- 
 graved their English patronymics on all things per- 
 forable from Paris to Athens. Up the Rhine and down 
 the Danube are handbooked ' ad nauseam,' and in our 
 own day we have seen the ultra comic notion of Tom 
 Moore turned into a veritable fact, .ind 
 Some Mrs. Tomkins taking tea 
 And toast, upon the walls of China. 
 Childe Harold could not now find a sacred spot on 
 which to build a foot of poetry, or give vent to one of 
 his magnificent outbursts. The trail of the serpent is 
 over it all, and the glories of Greek, Roman, and 
 Egyptian, like the puddled snow, are trodden under 
 the heels of an irredeemable vulgarity. Men now wan- 
 der over Alps and Pyrenees with their Guides in their 
 bauds and little curiosity in their heads, glance at 
 the Coloseum,to feel merely the chill of ruins, and look 
 down Vesuvius only to see nothing in it. Tourists are 
 used up, and European scenery used down. Even the 
 United States is overdone, and the Falls of Niagara, 
 lispingly pronounced to be ' pretty ' by the Bow-bell 
 denizens who ' have been roaming ' in the neighbor- 
 hood of that avalanche of mighty waters. Xerxes of- 
 fered a reward for a new pleasure ; who shall find out 
 a spot uncontaminated and uncocknified for those 
 who wander to and fro on the face of the earth 1 
 
 Ireland is yet a virgin soil in this particular. She 
 combines within herself the home simplicity of Eng- 
 land, the scenery o( the Rhine, and the wild grandeur 
 of Switzerland. The foreign intercourse with this 
 country must, from henceforward, be larger than that 
 of most European kingdoms. Business and pleasure 
 will combine for this influx of strangers. Embarka- 
 tion from Galway to the New World will bring men 
 from all (juarters. 
 
 The Americans are as great tourists as the English. 
 They will now swarm to Connemara.the Giant's Cause- 
 way, and the bosky bcanty of Wicklow. To many 
 continental people, Ireland was a sealed book. They 
 only knew the people through the ignorant misrepre- 
 sentations of their character, as the land itself through 
 the history of her wrongs, her famines, and her com- 
 pulsory exiles. All this must be changed, and, as an 
 instance of what may bo expected from it, we quote 
 the following from the London Athenteum, an organ 
 of British taste and literature of the highest char- 
 acter : — 
 
 ' From the Golden Vale, near Mallow, where, ' if 
 you stick a shillelagh in the ground at night, you won't 
 see it when you get up in the morning,' to the barest 
 summit of Uie Papa, where that keen anatomist, the 
 carrion crow, siu speculating upon the internal struc- 
 ture of a lamb's eye, Ireland delights us. Every one 
 
 writes against the absentee landlord ; why does no one 
 rail at the travellers who avoid the Causeway, and go 
 delighted to see a less curious thing further off at 
 Statfa — who arc ignorant of the terrific wilderness of 
 the Grey Man's Path, where the devil sits clapping his 
 black hands, black ever since he dirted them at Liver- 
 pool in tlic slave trade, and fuss off the Mauviss Past 
 at C'hamouni, which, compared with our Antrim lion, 
 is but a flea bite ■? We supposs the near will always 
 be snubbed for the distant — Julia, the wife, for some 
 disreputable Cleopatra of the imagination — the near 
 Downs for the far off monntains. It will take three 
 hundred years before we Englishmen discover that Ire- 
 land is not all bog and barrenness ; that strangers are 
 not always shot from behind hedges ; that Conncmara 
 is fairyland, and Killarney heaven. Till then, we can 
 but utter our protest, and entreat tourists to become 
 General Wades, and cut out roads of their own. Ire- 
 land is cheap and accessible ; the people generally 
 speak English, and are the drollest in the world. — 
 They are grateful, witty, generous, polite, obliging, 
 and, as to their women, beautiful. Those who like can 
 talk English, those who like can grapple with new and 
 poetical language, that has its own epics, romances and 
 fairy stories. It is our own land, too, bought with 
 our blood and money. There is Antrim for coast, for 
 clift'and caves — Mayo, for wild beauty — Killarney, for 
 enchantment — Kerry, gennerally for mountains— and 
 Connemara for everything — wild as Tartary, beautiful 
 as the unoccupied world, ere the gate of Paradise was 
 barred and death placed to ward it. Go by Wales, and 
 dream in the railway carriage that you are silting op- 
 posite to Welsh kings, who have taken 'first-class re- 
 turns ' to Dublin. In a sleep you are borne across. 
 The railway brings you to town, a fierce jaunting-car 
 skims you to the Gresham or the Bilton, and Nelson 
 from his pillar greets you. A new sun shines on you; 
 you are in the shamrock land, and over the city houses 
 are blue mountains, just as when the Normans began 
 their agiwtion here ages ago. Again.in conclusion,we 
 say, let the traveller, who has not teen Ireland, go ; 
 stand not upon the order of his going, but go at once. 
 Let him scare the eagle from Benabola and the Twelve 
 Pins, and look down on Lough Corrib, Lough Mask, 
 as he lies on heath and ' silver leaf,' eye-bright, gentian, 
 barberry, and maidenhair. Let him bolanise, or legen- 
 dise, shoot or make love, bring down grouse or statis- 
 tics, chase wild ducks or stills, chum with revenue oflii- 
 cers, feat at ends kept by friendly Vicars of Wakefield, 
 and return with less desire to catch lobsters in the 
 North Seas, when such an Arabian Nights' world is 
 open to him in a few hours' steam. The Devil's 
 Glen, or Poocha's Waterfall, Fin MacCoul's Cause- 
 way, or the Grey Man's Path, O'Sullivan's Cave, or 
 the O'Donoghue's Lake, each, or all, would till his mind 
 with visions of beauty for many a foggy London day.' 
 
 A siNGULAii instance of the miraculous fidelity of 
 history occurred the other day by the discovery of 
 a number of ancient Roman coins in a field near 
 Driffield. It seems that the ploughshare displaced 
 a piece of slate from the mouth of a vessel embedded 
 in the earth. A boy thrust his hand into what 
 proved to be a vase of earthenware, which, on ex- 
 amination, was found to contain 84 pounds weight 
 of Roman coins, many of them in tine preservation, 
 and all of very high antiquity. Many bear the head 
 and name of Constantina, and are referable to the 
 third century. Some of the coins were evidently 
 struck about 285 A. D., by Magnetius, who was en- 
 trusted with the govenunent of Britain, but r«bel- 
 ling against his government at home, and setting up 
 on his own account, usurped for some time the gov- 
 ernment of several provinces. The coins struck by 
 Magnetius bear, round a well executed head, ' D. 
 N. Magna,' but the other letters are obliterated. 
 On the other side in the center is a large character 
 like a P, crossed in the middle by two sword-like 
 lines, with the characters n. w. s. • inserted in the 
 spaces. Round the centre device is the following, 
 • Salus DD. NN. Aug. et Caee, P. P. L. C 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 237 
 
 FOREIGN INTELLIGENCE. 
 
 IRELAND. 
 
 A DoNEOAL Landlord Shot — The Rev. Mr- 
 Nixon, a Donegal landlord, has been shot. He was not 
 killed, however. The reverend gentleman is, we be- 
 lieve, likely to recover from the effects of the wound 
 inflicted on him. As yet the perpetrators of the deed 
 are nndiseovered, and as to the motive which inspired 
 them, there exists some uncertainty. Private affairs 
 are darkly hinted at in several of the letters bearing on 
 the subject that we have seen, and in the communica- 
 tions published by some of the public journals ; others 
 attribute the act to peasant vengeance, and say the o'er 
 bent bow h.is broken. However this may be,we sincerely 
 hope that the reverend gentleman, during his progress 
 to convalescence, will meditate seriously on his past 
 course, and ask his own heart whether, though it may 
 be quite legal, it is morally right to reduce a number 
 of his lellow men to want and rags and perpetual sor- 
 row ; whether it be consistent with the gospel he 
 preaches to grasp and gripe for the hard-earned money 
 of the poor, to go on from day to day increasing the 
 rents and rates of this unhappy tenantry, taking every 
 day another coal from their little fires, another pinch 
 out of their miserable meals, another shred from their 
 scanty clothing, another rag from off their wretched 
 beds, chilling their life blood, darkening their hopes, 
 withering up their hearts — let him ask himself how it 
 accords with the teachings of that Christianity which 
 he has promised to inculcate, to fill the land around 
 him with grief and discontent, till every man looks 
 careworn and every woman looks sad, and little chil- 
 dren looked pinched and sorrowful ; till marriages are 
 mournful things and births are felt as calamities. Let 
 him ask himself how far St. Paul, or any one of the 
 Twelve Apostles — unless, perhaps, that one amongst 
 them who yearned for thirty pieces of silver.and earned 
 them — would be from imposing a tax on those who 
 would go to gather sea-weed for lack of better food, or 
 from keeping an unfortunate tenantry continually un- 
 der notice to quit. Let him think over these things 
 while recovering from the effects of his wound, and 
 with God's blessing a better spirit may spring up within 
 him; he may perceive the error of his ways, and resolve 
 to do better for the future, and jierhaps he will arise, 
 blessing, as an instrument of a good Providence, the 
 man who fired the slugs at him last Sunday. — [Dublin 
 Nation. 
 
 The Most Rev. thb Archbishop of Dublin. — 
 It is with unfeigned pleasure that we announce the 
 gratifying intelligence which has been received from 
 Kome, relative to the improved health of his Grace the 
 Archbishop. It is stated that this improvement was 
 even visible during his Grace's journey to the Eternal 
 City. There his subsequent reception was most 
 cordial as well as most flattering. The Cardinal Arch- 
 bishop of Westminster's kindness and courtesy to his 
 Grace whilst in London is also gracefully alluded to 
 in the private communications which have reached us 
 — a circumstance which is calculated to deepen the 
 favorable impression made by Cardinal Wiseman 
 during his visit to Ireland. As regards our revered 
 Archbishop, every one must take a lively interest in 
 all that concerns him, and in |the state of his health 
 especially. His incesant labors in the cause of 
 religion — in guarding and warning the poor against 
 the wiles and artifices of the proselytising confedera- 
 cies that are inundating the land, and his triumphant 
 eucces in baffling the insidious machinations of the 
 Patriotic Commissioners, are all fresh in our memory. 
 We trust, therefore, that his Grace may soon return to 
 us, with restored health, to resume the high functions 
 which he is so eminently fitted to discharge. — [Nation. 
 
 The Dundalk, Midland, and Warrenpoint Railway 
 Companies, together with the Dundalk Steam Com- 
 pany, have agreed to abandon the opposition which 
 they have carried on for upwards of two years at a 
 mutual loss to each. This desirable reconciliation has 
 been effected through the intercession of Mr. J. O. 
 Lever. It is stated that the ium of £100,000 has been 
 sacrificed by this contest. 
 
 Filial Piett. — The kindness of the Irish emigrant 
 to his poor friends in the old land has been often 
 proudly recorded by the recipients of kindly rememb- 
 rance and good will. And the home that looked so 
 desolate as its props departed has bccn'Jmade to 
 brighten up and look joyful by the love substantially 
 shown of the departed ones. A rather striking example 
 of this occurred a few days ago in this neighborhood 
 (Bailiebro') namely, the sending-of £100 to a father 
 from a son. Five years ago the generous sender (John 
 M'Cabe, Dromore) sailed for Australia with a wife, a 
 heavy heart, and an empty purse. A stranger in a 
 strange land, knowing no one, known to none, without 
 a trade or a friend to teach him one, he engaged as a 
 driver with a coach-owner. Being remarkable always 
 for steady industry, and honesty, and sobriety, he very 
 quickly succeeded in gaining the good-will of his 
 master. He now occupies the position which his first 
 and last master held, has the contract for conveying 
 the mails 200 miles of road, is the owner of 150 horses, 
 and is accounted a rising man in that world of gold. 
 This is not his only present — he has sent several large 
 sums at various times, and promises to send more. — 
 [Meath People. 
 
 Gas in Killabnet. — It is with satisfaction we feel 
 ourselves enabled to announce that a project foi the 
 formation of a company under the provisions of 
 the Limited Liability Act, for introducing gas into 
 Killarney, has been spiritly received there, the requisite 
 capital having been subscribed for within the brief 
 space of a week. The list of directors will include the 
 most respected names in the locality — names in them- 
 selves the guarantee of success and good faith. Ten- 
 ders for contracts to lay mains and erect gas works are 
 to be issued fortwith. Certainly, the Killarney people 
 do not fail in self-reliance or public spirit, when a 
 legitimate object for its exercise is presented to them. 
 We have been informed that when this project was 
 submitted to Lord Castlerosse he at once subscribed 
 for a fourth of the entire capital of the company ; and 
 that nearly every individual interested in the welfare 
 of Killarney readily followed the noble lord's liberal 
 example, each according to his resources. — [Tralee 
 Chronicle. 
 
 Prosperity of the Coitntry. — A correspondent 
 of the Munster News, in exposing the hollowness and 
 falseness of this caut, says : — 'Any one who recollects 
 Kerry since 1827, will find it hard to recognise the traits 
 of this prosperity — unless,indeed,it be comparative with 
 the state of the county in 1846, '47, '48 and '49. Where 
 now are the respectable, independent men who thronged 
 in well-mounted and equipped ' fields,' to meet the 
 ' Grenah hounds,' in the valley of the Gweeston ■? 
 Where are the O'SuUivans of Corbally — the Foleys of 
 Angalore; the Leslies, the Thompsons; the endless list 
 of brave, stalwarth, independent fellows ; those Ajaxes 
 of Civil and Religious Liberty ? They are gone — 
 driven out, and their farms given at raised rents to men 
 who were their servants and laborers, because these 
 latter can subsist on buttermilk and refuse, and manage 
 by scrapings of extra butter made from mangolds, cab- 
 bage and turnips — butter of which they themselves 
 scarce know the taste — to pay the raised rent while 
 high prices favor them. Because this is so the country 
 is ' prosperous.' 
 
 A correspondent informs us that in many parts of 
 the county of Limerick, particularly Newcastle, Rath- 
 keale, Ashtown, and Pallaskenry, the potatoes are so 
 much injured by the disease, that not more than one 
 half of them are fit for use, and in many cases not 
 more than one-third. Still, from the quantity planted 
 this year, and the crop in general being so abundant in 
 quantity, if the disease does not affect those put in 
 pits, there will not, it is hoped, be any scarcity of this 
 necessary description of food. With regard to the 
 crops in this county also, we regret to say that ihe 
 disease has been spreading considerably for some time 
 past in various districts. — [Clare Freeman. 
 
 Marriage OF Lord Eglinton. — The correspon- 
 dent of the Times says the report respecting the mar- 
 riage of the Lord Lieutenant with the Ladv Adela 
 
 Capel is correct. The Earl of Essex, the bride's 
 father, is the possessor of large estates in Roscommon, 
 where his lordship has been recently a visitor. The 
 Viceregal nuptials are to taken place on Tuesday, and 
 the ceremony is to be strictly private. 
 
 Tiie AdmiraltT have issued orders for moorings to 
 be laid down at Galway for the convenience of the 
 Northern Atlantic Steampacket Company's vessels in 
 the harbor of Galway. 
 
 INDIA. 
 
 The following message was received at the East 
 India House, on Monday, Oct. 25, at 9 P. M., by 
 James C. Melville, Esq., from H. M. Anderson, 
 Esq., Secretary to the government, dated Bombay, 
 September 27, 18.58:— 
 
 OuDE. — A successful attack on a body of rebels, 
 numbering about three thousand, posted on £in 
 island of the Gogra, took place on the 19th instant. 
 Two companies of Europeans, the Kuppethela Con- 
 tingent, and some of Hodson's Horse, attacked and 
 drove them out of their entranced position on the 
 island, killing, it is reported, one thousand. The 
 artillery fire did great execution amongst the fugi- 
 tives, and also sunk two boats laden with the 
 enemy. Two of the rebel leaders are reported to 
 be among the slain ; the British loss severe. 
 
 Central India.— The Gwalior rebels are still at 
 Seronge, but it is thought that they will make an 
 attempt to cross the NerbuJda, between Saugor 
 and Bilsa. The following is the present position of 
 the columns of British troops serving in Central 
 India : — 
 
 Major General Michel, commanding Malwa Fi eld 
 Force at Blisa ; Brigadier Parke, with Neemuch 
 Field Force, at Sarungpoore, and Brigadier Smith, 
 moving with his force from Goona towards Seronge. 
 The first Cavalry reinforcement for Central India, 
 consisting of Guzerat and Galkwar Horse, from 
 Dohad, under command of Captain Buckle, was ex- 
 pected at Porein yesterday. 
 
 The Bombay Presidency is quiet. 
 
 Montgomery Martin estimates at two hundred 
 thousand five hundred millions the capital with- 
 drawn in India from circulation and absorbed by 
 England during fifty years. Thus, he adds, the sit- 
 uation of the country might be compared to that of 
 a man deprived of nourishment, and from whom a 
 quantity of blood is every day drawn. "What is to 
 be expected ? Atrophy and death. 
 
 MISCELLANIOUS NEWS. 
 
 A ease recently came before one of the Paris law- 
 courts, which shows that in that city the manufacture 
 of antiques any curiosities of all kinds is practised on 
 a grand scale. The young Messrs. de Rothschild, who 
 are ardent antiquaries, bought about £I,00u worth of 
 objects presented to be 'antiques' of the fifteenth and 
 sixteenth centuries, but which turned out to have been 
 made only a few months before by a skilful Paris 
 
 trader. The imitations were so astonishingly perfect 
 
 being colored, chipped, cracked, patched, and mended, 
 exactly like real antiques— that one of the most know- 
 ing dealers in such things was deceived by them. 
 
 A terrible affair is impending in consequence of the 
 discovery said to have been made by the English por- 
 tion of the family of a lady lately married to an Ital- 
 ian prince, and which fills with dismay every member 
 of the high race to which the lady belongs. Tho title 
 of the 'soi disant' prince is said to be of a likeparchaso 
 and the prince himself, not many years ago, a cook ia 
 the service of one of the clubs in London. Havine- 
 been dispatched to Vienna by the club upon some 
 errand in connexion with his calling, he entered into a 
 speculation in sheep, and, in a very few years, realised 
 the splendid fortune of which he is now master. The 
 fortune has enabled him to marry into a family con- 
 nected with the highest aristocracy of both Entflaod 
 and France. — [Court Journal. 
 
 General Neil has presented Napoleon with the 
 first copy of the journal of the works executed by ths 
 French engineers during the siegeof Sebastopol. 
 
238 
 
 IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 HViliteu (or the MlJccll»uj 1 
 
 NOTES F.tOM A JOURNAL. 
 
 uv J. K. r. 
 
 No 15— Pulilii.' BuiMiiiK^ ill Dulilin. 
 
 To lUv, our liisi ill Irvlmid, wevi-iii'J scvfrnl pi ires 
 
 of iiittreM K.irly in tlic iiianiiii); wu pruvrt (led liy 
 
 rail CO Ihu lamous ' ilill uf lloutli,' pllIl^illK liy Clon- 
 
 lui r, i-ver mviiiurible iu Ili^h liit>tory an biini;ilie pluec 
 
 on will' h the Danes, unilrr Sitrio, Htiil the lii»h, uikUt 
 
 BriDii Uoioilmio, iDuglit tlieir lust f:n.'ai battle, nhiili 
 
 rcsulud in the dtftat ol the fnimer, and a I '>s lo the 
 
 1 itter of ll.UOO men, tngeihir »iih their leader unil 
 
 Ills C'ld..-i>l «on. It is now a rcaltenil tuvrn, containing 
 
 but lew coed houses and an ancient casile. 
 
 Airiviip at the sraiiun, we B^c^.•nlkll ihc hill to iho 
 villnce uf llowili. Here a.c ihc ruill^ of Iluwtli .Vbi<ey, 
 built in ibe eaily part uf the ihirtein h icniU'V, which, 
 fruiu its >iiuaiiun, would seem half ubhcy, ball furircAS. 
 The ground adj cent U used as a buriil place, and the 
 iiiit'iior if the lU'nid abbey is jet usid by the EarU of 
 Iluwih as a place of scpuburc f.ir themselves and 
 families, and their ancestors of m.my bygone ycni ra- 
 tions rest here. 
 
 Asi oncliiii; the highest point on the hill above the 
 town, the \\ew is vtry tine. The b'.'aiiii'ul >ccnery of 
 the hiiy, Kingstown, Booterstown, uiid Ulackrock, on 
 the op|io,-iic siilf, and, like clouds in the distance, the 
 Wicklow monnthins, make a beamiful picture. 
 
 Keluming to the ciiy, we p"i.l a visit to Christ j 
 Church Cathedral, fuun.led in lOlS by a Danish aich- 
 bi»hop, aid afurwitids enlarged by Kichaid Sirong- 
 bcw, Kayniofid Le Gros, and others of that ilk. About 
 the vcar 1163, it was enlarged by the ccleliralcd Lau- 
 rri:cc O' Toole, Atchbishop uf Dublin. It was a Catho- 
 lic church ui.lil l.")41, when ilcnry VIII., ol iul'diuous 
 DitinMiy, convened it into a Protestant one. In the 
 nave i,-* an ancient inonament to Richard fcilrongbow, I 
 first and principal iuvader uf Ireland, who died in 
 1169. U is a rough iniitiiion, in stone, of a knight in 
 armor. There is also a smaller figure beside ii, which 
 has been apparent'y cut in two. There is a tradition 
 which says that this figure represents Sirongbow'a ' 
 son, who was cut in two by one blow of his father's I 
 s«oril,for having iiigloriuusly Hed from battle. j 
 
 Of ihe monuments in the choir, that to Kobert, 19th ' 
 Earl of Kildare, is the handsomest. There are tid in- 
 scriptions here in Latin, and a very handsome tcstiuio- i 
 bial, carved in oak, rcpresenring a family of the olden 
 time grouped in pr.iytr, is near the pulpit. j 
 
 On our way to dinner, we pa,ssed Dublin Castle, 
 where the heads of the govfrnioent depanment of Ire- 
 land have iheir offices, and where many noble souls 
 ended their days for loving their ciruntry, 'not wisily, 
 but too well.' It was here Shane O'Neil's head was 
 stuck on a pole, after being murdered by the treachery 
 of an English oflieer. 
 
 Miinn'joy square, at the other side of the city, now 
 the residence of rich people, in '93 was wa«te land, and 
 used to be a great place for the patriots to meet and 
 lav plans for their country'.- freedom. We also visit- 
 ed the old l.'ity I'lison, in Green street, where many 
 of those pitrii)t8 were inearccrated, and in which 
 several went t.i their last honjc. 
 
 In the afternoon, we paid a short visit lo IC Imaio- 
 ham, and pas-ed through the grounds arijuniiig ilie 
 Boval Hospital, where pensioners, after Imvini; spent 
 years in the service of the enemy of their eountiy, and 
 who show it by scars and the loss of liin'is, aie accom- 
 moda'cd wiih l.idgiiigs and board at a cheap rate. I 
 do not see buw it can well be oihcrAi!>e, for the pen- 
 sions some of th-in receive is barely sullicient to keep 
 them in the neccssarie,' of life. 
 
 Kcar this is the old burjing-ground known as ' Bul- 
 ly's Acre,' where, it is said, Morchad. Brian Boroihme's 
 eldeu son, is buri d, together with a great number of 
 those who fell in the baitle of Cloniarf. It is at pres- 
 ent used for buiials, and has been since thh cholera 
 ra;;id here some twenty-five years iigo. 
 
 Ueiuinipp lo the city, we p .id a living visit to the 
 Museum of ll»h Industry, in Stephen'.- Green. The 
 entrance hall i^ fitted np as a cabinet of Irish marbles, 
 
 the cxcceliiig hcnuiy of whi. h will iioi f il to strike 
 the ri.-itor. Tlie giilluies contain ii.ui li of interest to 
 agrii'iiliurali-ia tnd g. oligsia, as exhibiiing the soils 
 of laiiou- pnri- ol 1. eland. There is here a fine skele- 
 t n of ihe Irish e k, now ixtlnit, aiitl many other uni- 
 cles iiiicr( Sling lo ni.ii<iuaiious. 
 
 Aoj lining Dublin Casile is the City Hall, lately the 
 Koval Kxcliaiige. In the lower hall there is u full 
 length marble statue of U'Connell, by Hogan, one of 
 Grattan, by Chonncy, and also one of the late Dr. Lu- 
 cas. It is in ihis building the Uublia corporation 
 transact their bu-incss. 
 
 Cro-sing the l.iBy by Whitworih Bridge, wc have a 
 view if ihe cil brated Four Courts. As this is se-sion 
 time, let u.-i take a look wiiliin the bull. The first 
 thii.k that an Ameiican will nuiice is the nig and 
 g>«n of the barrister, some of whom look oddly 
 enough in their rigs, espeii.lly when young men. 
 Scenes here are thus dt scribed in u guide book: — 
 ■ Grave looking lawyers, and sonieiimcs grave lo. king 
 clients, in close council with their attorneys, wailing 
 for the momeiii when their case shall be called on ; 
 brii f less burri-ters mdeavoring to look as busy as pos- 
 tilile ; u crowd of wiiiies es and idlers spiinkbd here 
 and there, wiili venders of wondci I'ul l.unilrcd-bluded 
 knives and watch guard- ; clients hunting lor their ut- 
 to ntys, and altoriny- hunting for their clients; and 
 groups talking on alt subjects, from att'airB of the state 
 to the state of the weatlier.' 
 
 Here some of the bii;;htcst ornaments of the bar 
 sauntered and lounged, unnoticed and unknown, wait- 
 ing for that ' tide in the aHuiis ot men, &c , leads to 
 fortune' Here, in the '^oodold times,' were of.eu 
 arrHnj;ed those liitle preliminaries to insure a peaceable 
 ' fight in the Fifteen Acrt-s.' 'lime was, when in Dub- 
 lin, at least, a barrister shouUl bo ready at a moment's 
 nOti'C to fight f,ir his client with other weapons than 
 such as at present the law recognises. 
 
 On our way to the quay of the Liverpool steamer, 
 we passed the Custom House, a magnificent structure, 
 erected at; a cost of S2,.'5UO,000 ; but 'he commerce of 
 Dublin is totally inadequate to occupy so exiensive a 
 building. 
 
 Seven o'clock, P. M. — The steamer ' Duke of Cam- 
 bridge ' is slowly moving out from the dock, and was 
 soon steaming it down the bay. The ' Green Ulo ' is 
 fast di.sappearini;, and eveiiingshades are each moment 
 making more indistinct the Hill of Howth. 
 
 Nine o'clock. — The last glimpse of Eiin with sorrow 
 I see, and we descend to ibe cabin, pleased and sails- 
 fied with our trip to Ireland. 
 
 How TO Takk Life. — Take life I ke a man. Take 
 it just as though it was — as it i — an earne-i, vital, es- 
 sential aft'air. Take it just as though you personally 
 were born to the task of pei forming a merry part in ir, 
 as though the world hud waited for your coming. 
 Take it as though it was a grand opportunity to do 
 and to achieve, to carry forward great and ^jood 
 schemes ; to help and cheer a suffering. Weary, it may 
 be a heart-liroken, bro her. The fact is, life is uiider- 
 valuid by a great mfljoriiy of mmikind. It is not 
 made half as much of as sriould be the case. Where 
 is ibe nun or woman who accomplishes one lihe of 
 what might be done? Who cannot look b.ick Upon 
 opiiortunities lost, plans unachieved, ihojghts crashed, 
 aspiraii.ms unfu fi.Kd, and all caused liom ihe lack of 
 the necessary and po-sib e effort ! If we knew lietier 
 how to take and make the most of life it wuuld be lar 
 greater than it is. Nuw and then a man stands a.side 
 from the crowd, labors earnestly, steadfastly, cotifi- 
 dei.tly, and straightway becomes famoui for wisdom, 
 ii.iclb ct, skill, greatness of some sort. The world 
 wonders, admires, idolizes; and yet it only illustrates 
 what each may do if hu take bold of life with a pur- 
 pose. If a man but says he will, And follows it up, 
 there is nothing in reiison he may not expect to accom- 
 plish. '1 here is no magic, no miracle, no secret to 
 Liin who n biave in bean and determined in spirit. 
 
 Thk light in the world coinc- p ir,ci,,ally fiom two 
 soDTcea— the sun and the student's lamp. 
 
 VARIOUS ITEMS. 
 
 Judge Nohiiuiiv, of notorious nieinoiy, poiniii'g lo 
 a iniia who was about to be tiitd, said, ' 'i'herc is a 
 rogue at the end of my caiic.' The iinin to whom he 
 poii.led, looking at l.ini, said, ' At whiih end, my 
 loid.' 
 
 A 'cctotalcr the other day n«ked a nci;;libor if he 
 WHS not inclined lo the tcmpernnie sociity, and he 
 replied : ' Vcs ; for wJicQ h'j saw liquor Lis mouth 
 watered.' 
 
 A young carpenter having been told that 'tbccourso 
 of true love never did run ^moolll,' took bis pluoo 
 under his arm whiu be went couriing. 
 
 It is said that bhcding n partly blind horse at the 
 nose will restore him to sight — so ii ueb lor the horse. 
 To 0|>cn a man's e^es, you must bL'cd bim at the 
 pocket. 
 
 In an address to a Frmch ihctorul community, the 
 candidate stated that he hod shed all his blood for hii 
 country, and was ready to sliid i'. again. 
 
 A Dublin mercer, recommending a piece of silk to a 
 lady f r a gi.wn, sail, "Madam, it will wear forever, 
 and in>ike a petticoat afierwuids.' 
 
 A burglar was caught last week in P wi h twen- 
 ty-three watches in Ids possession. He was the great- 
 est 'ihief of time' we ever heard of exjiect 'j/roerasti- 
 nation.' 
 
 Lunar Beacx — Says an astronomer to a bright- 
 eyed gill, when talking ol rainbows, 'Did you ever see 
 a lunar beaux, miss V ' 1 have seen beaux ny moon- 
 light, if that's what you mean,' was the sly njoioder. 
 
 ' JoiiN,' said a Cockney solicitor to bis son, ' I see 
 you'll never do for an atioriie_>; you have no henergy." 
 '.-kuse me, father,' replied John, "What I want is some 
 of j'our chickenary.' 
 
 Tub author of "Tristram Shandy,' v\ ho knew human 
 nature [iretly well, says — ■ A sober man, when druuk, 
 has the same kind of stupidity about bim that a drun- 
 ken man lias when he is sober.' 
 
 A witness having told a magistrate that he was a 
 penmnn, was asked where he wielded his pen, and he 
 repli.d that he peuutd sheep in Smitbficid market. 
 
 A pretty woman pleases the eye; a good woman 
 plias<sthe heart. The one is a jewel, the other a 
 treasure.' 
 
 'What is the matter, Julia, yon look as sorrowful 
 as a sick lip-dog!' "O, don't perplex me, that's a 
 dear! my grief is too great for utierance. lie h.id 
 sueli an awful vision ! I actually di'eamed that Kosa 
 Smith had got a new silk dress 1' 
 
 A debating society have under considerr.iion the 
 question, ' Is i; wrong to cheat a lawyer I' The result 
 is exj-ected to be — ' >o !' 
 
 A wiiggi-h candidate coming in the course of his 
 canvass to a tailor's shop, 'what we look for here,' 
 said he, ' are measures, not men.' 
 
 KiRWAN says that a pious Scotchman used to pray, 
 ' () Lord keep me right — lor thou knowest that if 1 do 
 go wrong, it is very haul to turn ine.' 
 
 A f w idgbts since, in New York, a serenading party, 
 afer spending an hour in prodiicii g the mo t dulcet 
 sliains. were infoimed by a polite watchman that • no- 
 body liv.d there.' 
 
 A Yulikie chap down in Holt, Kansas, occupying 
 an ol>i d.ignerre-in wsgon by the roadside, was dis- 
 C'vered a short time since washing aid scouring an 
 old gun b.irrcl. On beiiiga-kel what be intended to 
 do wiih it, be replied that he was fixingit up to go into 
 the retail liquor busines.'s, and, to avoid the law, was 
 going to make use of the tube instead of the glasses, 
 thereby making it np.:arent,beyonil dispute, that he was 
 selling liquor by the barrel. The fellow is doing a 
 thriving business. A L'reat many persons have been 
 ' shot in the neck ' by the novel contrivance. 
 
 From the small h How of a dice box arifc fear, rage, 
 convnl-i'ins, tears, oaibs, blasphcini' s — as many evi.s 
 as ever fle-v fiom the box of i'aiidura; uiid nut even 
 hope remains behind. 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 239 
 
 AnvEnxraEMKNTS. 
 
 OLD COLONY HOUSE. 
 
 PATinrK UOI.LY bi'ss l«nc to iimiourcc to his | at- 
 101. s ul.d till- plibiic m-iiiTiilh tiiut lie l.iis cuuslauliy 
 ou liauil fit Ills old tu.d »el1-ki.o\vn htiilid, 
 
 THE OLD COLONY HOUSE, 
 
 CORXEn OF KiXLELAXD AyD SOUTH STREETS, 
 
 A CHOICE ^xeSOnT.MtNT OP 
 
 BRAXDIES, WINES, SCOTCH & miSII 
 
 AVIIISICEY, CIGARS, &c. &c., 
 
 all o( the very first quality, winch can be obtained too at 
 
 LOWER RATES 
 
 than elsewhere in the market; ini>roofof which he invites 
 purchoFcrs to give him u call. au^ 2S 
 
 KOUTUERN UOUSE, 
 
 KOnTH SQUARE— BOSTON. 
 
 JOHN GLAKCY rKOpniETOR. 
 
 This House has rooms equal to any first cinss Hotel, and 
 permanent or trousient Boarders can be accommodated 
 nearly one haJf cheaper than at any other House in the 
 City. 
 
 In the Reading Room can be found all the morning and 
 evening papers, and periodicals ol" the day, together with 
 an extens^ive Libuaky, for the free and exclusi\e use ol 
 
 the BOAUDKKS. 
 
 K. B. Strangers visiting Boston, can always find this 
 House a Home. 
 
 J. & R. MURPHY, 
 
 MAEtJPACTUEEKS OF 
 
 SURGICAL AND DENTAL INSTRUMENTS, 
 CUTLERY, 
 
 AXD STEEL WORK OF EVERY KIND, 
 No.S HARYAKD PLACE, (opposite the Old South,) 
 
 BOtTOS", Mass. 
 KT" Cutlery and Instruments of all kinds Repaired, 
 ly ang28 
 
 ADVERTISEMENTS 
 
 MERCANTILE AND WRITING SCHOOL, 
 
 E. J. OLEESOX, Mastek. 
 
 This School is now opened nt No. 23 Tortlakd Stui'.kt, 
 a few doors south of Doolej 's E.vchiinRc liolel, where a 
 select and limited number ol'thc Youth of botii sexes will 
 be admitted; time from 9 A. M. to 12 JI., and from 2 1'. M 
 to 5 1'. M. 
 
 TERMS MODERATE. 
 
 EVENING SCHOOL! 
 
 This school will be opened in the mme place on the flret 
 evenin/r of next month, where adults and those of riper 
 years, will be carefully and assiduously instructed in the 
 various brauchtsoi learning-, suitable to their calling. 
 
 BOOK-KEEnXG: 
 
 Mr. Gleeson ventures to say. and pledges himself without 
 hesitation, that he will qualify young gentlemen for the 
 Counting Uoom, in half the time that is consumed in simi- 
 lar institutions in this city, and at considerable less ex- 
 pense. 
 
 August 17th, 1853. ang28 
 
 GENERAL TICKET OFFICE 
 
 —FOR THE — 
 
 SOUTHERNAND WESTERN STATES 
 
 AND 
 
 THE CANADAS, 
 No. 2 Aleaht Street, Boston. 
 
 EDWAJID KYAN, Agent. 
 
 N. B. — Passage to and from Liverpool, and Bills of Ex- 
 change on England, Ireland and Scotland. 
 
 ap24 ly 
 
 FRANCIS GODFREY, 
 
 IMrORTEE AND EESTOREK OF 
 
 ITALIAN PAINTINGS, 
 
 AND MANUFACTURER OF GILT FRAMES, 
 
 12 Franklin Stkeet, Boston. 
 lE^ Engravings, Lithographs, Crayons, &c., on sale. 
 
 CATHOLIC BOOK STORE. 
 
 WILLIAM UICKEY, Catholic Bookseller, and Agent 
 for the Extensive Publishing House of D. & J. 
 Sadlier & Co., of New York. 
 The latest and most varied stock of Keligious Prints, 
 MISSALS, PRAYER BOOKS, CROSSES, 
 and all the Current Literature, constantly on hand. 
 
 No. 128 Federal (corner op Willlvms) street, 
 BOSTON, MASS. 
 
 W. J. HENNESSY, 
 ARTIST, 
 
 No. 87 FRANKLIN STREET, 
 
 NEW YORK CITY. 
 
 DO'KOUKK?;, re.spectfullv informs his Irieuds and the 
 . public, that he keeps constantly on hand COKiTNS 
 of all sizes and kinds, at hw CoUiu "Manufaclory, No. &17 
 Federal, between Beach and Kneelnnd Streets, liuston, 
 which he will sell as reasonable as can be bought at any oth- 
 er place in the city. 
 
 N. iJ.— Orders punctually attended to, day or night. 
 
 Residence, No. 23 South" street, Boston. 
 
 in7~Urav'«-Clothe< Uunlabed to order at thott notlc«. 
 
 fabia 
 
 FINE READY MADE CLOTHING 
 
 SPRING OVERCOATS, 
 
 BUSINESS COATS, 
 
 FROCK AND DRESS COATS, 
 
 PANTS AND VESTS, 
 Good, Sttlish, Well Made Garments, 
 Such as men of taste and good judgment will wear, can at 
 all times be found at our store. 
 Our aim is to produce for our customers the best Ready 
 Made Garments at the lowest fossiule prices for 
 CASH. 
 
 Readers of this Journal are earnestly solicited to exam- 
 ine our goods before purchasing. 
 
 J W . SMITH & CO., 
 
 Dock Sqitare, corker Elm Street. 
 my 11 tf 
 
 SOUTH END CATHOLIC BOOK STORE, 
 
 And Depot for the Sale of the 
 
 METROPOLITAN AND YOUTHS' SIAGAZINES. 
 
 WILLIAM KEATING, Ageht, 
 
 8 1-2 Harrison Avenue, or at his New Periodical Store, 176 
 
 Harrison Avenue, Boston, Mass., 
 
 Where a great variety of the most popular Books and 
 
 Papers cam be had at the very lo^\;est prices, 
 
 WILL supply Clubs, Agents, Canvassers, &,c.. on the 
 same terms as the Publishers. The following are 
 the terms— 3 copies will be sent.bv mail, to one address, tor 
 onevearSo; 6 copies for SIO; 13 copies forSSO: 20 conies 
 forS30. '■ 
 
 Sy On the receipt of S3, three copies of the Catholic 
 Y'outh's Magazine and one copy of the Metropolitan will 
 be mailed regularly tor one year. 
 
 tTr" A few sets of the Magazines from the beginning, can 
 be had of the Agent. Also, all new books furnished as 
 soon as published. ap24 3mo3 
 
 ADVERTISEMENTS. 
 
 THE I K 1 S H VINDICATOR. 
 
 A WEEKLY NEWSl'APER, 
 The Best and Cheatest I'UELisnED in Aaierioa. 
 
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 MOST WONDERFUL SUCCESS, 
 
 and has been pronounced bv the Press and the Public to be 
 
 superior to any other liish Weekly in the United States. 
 
 It contains each week, the very 
 
 Latest News prom every County in Ireland ; 
 
 Original and entei-taining 
 
 STORIES AND ANECDOTES, 
 
 and a variety of Miscellaneous Reading matter, of a charac- 
 ter which cannot fail to elevate and chasten the intel- 
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 and is so cheap as to be within the reach of the poorest. 
 
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 New Y'ork, by the I'ropriet 
 
 KDWARD DOWNES CONN ERY & CO. 
 
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 STRICT personal attention paid to compounding Physi 
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 genuine imported I'erfumery and Fancy Goods. Soda 
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 THE SOUTHERN CITIZEN, 
 
 TS published weekly at Knoxville, Tennessee, bv JOHN 
 MHCIJELL & WM. O. SWAN, at S2 per aniium, or 
 SI for SIX months, payable invariably in advance. 
 
 Ml: Mitchell haviu^ commeneed' in the 28th number of 
 the paper, a series of Letters addressed to the lion. Alex- 
 ander 11. Stephens of oeorgia, which when completed will 
 furnish an entire history of 
 
 THE IRISH TROUBLES OP 1848, 
 
 With their Causes and Consequences, 
 
 The Southern Citizen will be the more interesting to both 
 American and Irish readers. Besides these contributions 
 trom Mr. Mifcliel, the Southern Citizen will continue to 
 have its usual quantity of original matter upon polirical 
 and literary subjects prepared by him. The circulation, 
 though large and conslautly increasing, the proprietors 
 have thought will be much more extended by an announce- 
 ment in this form. 
 
 Communications with remittances may be addresed to 
 Mitcliel & Swan, Knoxville, Tennessee, or to any of the 
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 Gentrv, Richmond, Va; Alexander Adam-on, Washington 
 city; Tallinage& Tniiner, Cinchinati.O; I'M Havertv, 110 
 Fulton street, N Y'; S H Goetzel, 33 Dauphin stieet. Mobile 
 Ala; Benj B Davis, Masonic Building, Montgonier\ , Ala; 
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240 
 
 IRISH MISCELLAKY. 
 
 THE ORPHAN'S FAIR. 
 
 The new Asylum, tlio orplmns, the Sisters, and 
 sll which relates to this nublc charity, are subjccis 
 of engrossing interest to our readers, and our com- 
 munity have always responded most generously 
 when appealed to for aid in behalf of this institution. 
 This, it is expected, will be the last appeal for 
 many years to come ; therefore, the Sisters hope 
 for as much enthusiasm as has been so generously 
 manifested on former occasions. 
 
 Those who may wish to know why, and so often, 
 this subject has been brought before the public, 
 should visit the institution, and satisfy themselves 
 of its exiont and usefulness, or read the directors' 
 reports, where it will be seen what has been done 
 with all the money at different times received. The 
 old friends and supporters of this charity have some- 
 thing to be proud of in the success of their efforts, 
 and hope that this last appeal will be so generously 
 responded to as to place the Asylum in an independ- 
 ent position — that is, out of debt. 
 
 At a fair held last month by our neighbors in 
 Chelsea, for the benefit of the church proposed to 
 be erected there, the net profits were §2800, and it 
 must be remembered that this is a small, though 
 growing, parish. How much, then, should we ex- 
 pect from our fair, which receives the patronage of 
 all the churches of Boston and vicinity ? We 
 answer, not less than $28,000. Let every one do 
 his best, and this will be the result. 
 
 We have lately seen the spontaneous donation of 
 ove^ §100,000 by one hundred individuals of New 
 York towards the new cathedral, and in all other 
 cities of this ccpublic. Catholics are full of zeal 
 in establishing institutions of education and charity; 
 everywhere, bishops clergy and laity are work- 
 ing together with a zeal worthy the ' ages of 
 faith.' 
 
 Hereafter, let the Catholics of Boston be distin- 
 guished for their care for the poor, the widow, and 
 orphan. Let us follow past efforts with new zeal, 
 former gifts with new and enlarged ones, until the 
 work is done. Let us show the world that we are 
 not selfish and avaricious, that we are not mean 
 and penurious; but that we live and act for the 
 honor of God, and the good of his children. 
 
 The fair will commence Tuesday, Nov. 23, and 
 continue eleven days. No effort has been spared to 
 make it more attractive than ever. The Music 
 Hall, on this occasion, will be one of the most 
 pleasing exhibitions in the city. 
 
 We suggest to our friends to visit the hall early, 
 as towards the close the crowd is so great as to 
 prevent persons from having a good view of the ex- 
 hibition. 
 
 Literary Institites. — We are pleased when we 
 hear of the formation of literary institutes amongst 
 our people, and chronicle with pleasure their in- 
 auguration. Such a one is the St. Patrick Literary 
 Institute, of Quincy, Mass. The following gentle- 
 men have been elected officers for the ensuing 
 year : — William K. Fitzgerald, President ; Peter 
 Calton, Vice-President ; George Cahill, Secretary ; 
 Michael Delvin, Treasurer ; Andrew Kerrigan, Jere- 
 miah O'Conner, Thomas Cormick, Bartholemew 
 Field, and Cornelius Moynihan, Directors. We 
 wish them success, mutual improvement, and the 
 accomplishment of much public good. 
 
 We are sorry the very interesting ' Notes from a 
 Journal,' being sketches of a tour in Ireland, by 
 ' J. E. F,' of Lowell, are brought to a close in this 
 number. AVe feel pleased, however, that he con- 
 tinues a correspondent of the Miscellany, having his 
 assurance that he will reappear in a new series of 
 articles, which we warrant will be interesting to our 
 readers. His sketches have been both amusing and 
 instructive, and, with more mature study, our 
 young friend will become an excellent writer. 
 
 Qreat uneasiness exists in Ireland with regard 
 to the formation of a new order of seditious socie- 
 ties, which are spreading over the country, and the 
 members bind themselves not to divulge their plans 
 to the priests. They are supposed to derive inspi- 
 ration and money from America. In connection 
 with these societies, the projected visit of the New 
 York Irish regiment to Ireland is looked upon with 
 suspicion, and the Dublin Evening Moil calls the 
 attention of government to the subject. 
 
 The above should read : ' The British govern- 
 ment, frightened out of its wits by the thoughts of 
 an Irish regiment of American soldiers visiting Ire- 
 land, coming back with republican bayonets, and 
 seeing the 'dragon's teeth,' consulted on the neces- 
 sity of saving the empire from so dreadful a calami- 
 ty, and agreed to hire the Dublin Evening Mail to 
 start the cry of danger, and invent something to 
 prevent the intended visit.' It will be remembered 
 that we said, and first said. Colonel Kyan's gallant 
 regiment would not be allowed to visit Ireland. 
 We now congratulate that gallant body of men 
 upon their refusal in being prevented from visiting 
 fatherland. As John Mitchel said, the best evidence 
 he had that he was in the line of duty was, that he 
 was in opposition to England. So with the New 
 York regiment ; the very best evidence of their be- 
 ing true to country and liberty is, that they are for- 
 bidden to place a foot upon the old classic, soul and 
 freedom-inspiring soil of Brien. Gentlemen, you 
 perhaps knew it not, but others looked upon your 
 visit as being the true submersion of a cable which 
 would indeed bind Ireland to America. Nor were 
 we prophets, nor inspired either, when we of the 
 Miscellany first said you would not be permitted to 
 visit Ireland. Ah ! brave 69 th, did you never read 
 of a year called eighty-two, and of volunteers 
 in Ireland at that day ? Then were Irish soldiers 
 seen upon Irish soil for the last time in Ireland's 
 cause ; and is not Britain aware of it and afraid 
 of you ? Y'ou frightened the governnient of Eng- 
 land, and we henceforth style you, ' The Bull-a- 
 Boos.' If we could we would send you a ban- 
 ner with the above motto. Gallant 69th ! you 
 have done your duty ; henceforth ' abide your 
 time,' although it was hardly fair of you to monopo- 
 lize the taking ot Ireland yourselves. 
 
 Our talented and universally admired friend, 
 Henry Giles, is now in St. Louis, Mo., fulfilling 
 a lecturing engagement. We trust he will favor the 
 citizens of Boston on his return. His lectures 
 on 'Irish Mental and Moral Character,' 'Irish Social 
 Character and Humor,' and 'Daniel O'Connell,' are 
 amongst his greatest efforts, and are perfectly new, 
 never having been delivered before this season. Can- 
 not we secure the delivery of these lectures this 
 season ? We think it ought to be done. 
 
 A PRIVATE letter from Father Peter Daly, per the 
 Circassian from Galway, is received as we go to 
 press, assures us of the success of the Galway line, 
 despite the opposition and difficulties thrown in the 
 way,and that Boston will be a link in the great chain 
 of commercial communication binding together Ire- 
 land and America. 
 
 We learn from the New Orleans Catholic Stand- 
 ard, of the 2.3d ult., that six Catholic priests have 
 fallen in that city since the epidemic commenced, 
 viz ; Rev. Messrs. Aubert, Girard, Moro, Cavan- 
 augh, Bazin, Duquesnay and Vogien. A number 
 of others have been attacked by the epidemic, and 
 are now convalescent. 
 
 Our Tuavellino Aijent. — Our friend and active 
 agent, Mr. James Sullivan, iiitinds visiting the 
 northern portion of Connecticut, Massachusetts.and 
 Uhode Island, during the present and next months. 
 We trust our friends will double their numbers, and 
 have for Mr. Sullivan a true Irish welcome. 
 
 [From the Southern Citizen. 1 
 The Irish Miscellany : Boston. — We noticed 
 sometime ago, and with approbation and welcome, 
 the appearance of this handsome little illustrated 
 weekly paper. Since then, we observe that it has 
 changed its owner, and has come into the hands of 
 Mr. Thomas O'Neill. We believe he is very com- 
 petent, not only to conduct, but to improve it ; and 
 we wish the enterprize much success. 
 
 ax)Vebtis£:mj:nts. 
 
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 NEW YORK AND GALWAY LINE. 
 
 THIS is the Hlioptcst route Ijctwccii Europe aud Amer- 
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 The departures Iroiu New York lor (J a) way will be ae fol- 
 lows, until further notice, viz- — 
 
 cmCASSIAN, ('apt Thompson, November 19. 
 
 Persons visiting Ireland reach their destination in three- 
 fourtliB the time taken bv any other route, and all have an 
 opportunity ol visitiug places aud ciccuery of unrivalled iu- 
 terest in Ireland. 
 
 Price of passage, including free tickets by the usual rail- 
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 Urt-at liritain, at the following reduced ratCM:— First claaa 
 SiWj second class S50, third clas« S30. 
 
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 THE 
 IRISH MISCELLANY 
 
 Ib published weekly-, and devoted to the interests and tIb- 
 dication of the Irish people throughout the world. 
 
 The MhceUany republi.«he« each week one whole number 
 of the old ' Dublin Penny Journal,' with original and 
 selected essays, reviews, poetry, &c., by Irii^hmen, of first- 
 rate ability. It also contains beautiful Pictorial Illustra- 
 tions of Irish scenery and other objects of interest, amonf 
 which may be enumerated engravings ol the ancient cas- 
 tled and round towers, the rums of the old churches, th* 
 plundered monasteries, convents and abbeys of Ireland. 
 
 It will also contain correct Pictorial representations ot 
 works of art executed by Irishmen ol the present day, as 
 well as in former times, iu this country and throughout 
 Europe. 
 
 Tbrms.— «2,00 per year, invariably in advance. 
 THOMAS O'NEILL. Profbietor, 
 MICHAEL J. WALSH, Conductor. 
 
 No. 4 Wateb Sthkbt, Boston, Mam. 
 
VOLUME 2— NUMBER 42.] 
 
 BOSTON, SATURDAY, NOVEMBER 27, 1858. [PRICE POUR CENTS. 
 
 SCENERY AND TRADITIONS OF IRELAND. 
 
 About four miles from Finglas, or Fioun Glass, 
 ' the fair or pleasant green,' once the favorite resi- 
 dence of the great St. Patrick, stands a few ecclesi- 
 astical remains, known in the present day as St. 
 Columb's Church. Formerly there was a monastery, 
 founded as early as 512 by the famous St. Columb- 
 kill,who appointed St. Finian Lobhair, or the Lesser, 
 as its abbot, and to whom lie gave what in those 
 times was a rare treasure— a missal or copy of the 
 Gospels, written by himself. In course of time, this 
 monastery became very opulent, for in connection 
 ■with it there were, in addition to the church, 
 of which our artist has given us a fine view, 
 four other churches or chapels, and nine inferior 
 chapels, subservient to the parent church. Hence, 
 on the institution of the collegiate church of St. 
 Patrick in Dublin, it ranked as the first of the thir- 
 teen canonries attached to that cathedral by Arch- 
 bishop Uomyn, and was subsequently known by the 
 appellation of the ' Golden Prebend,' on account of 
 itsgreatvalue, arising out of its considerable demesne, 
 and tithes issuing from a large and fertile district. 
 Of these numerous edifices, few in the present day 
 remain to tell of their former magnificence. There 
 
 is only the modem church, the old abbey belfry, and 
 a round tower seventy-three feet in height, to give 
 an idea of the grandeur of the olden time. Of the 
 round tower, we may observe, in addition to what 
 we stated on a former occasion, that these singular 
 relics of a remote age are by many individuals 
 presumed to have been sepulchral monuments. 
 This theory has, in our opinion, been but faintly 
 controverted, and such a fact as the following is 
 worth more than a tome of speculative argument. 
 Some time since, Mr. O'Dell, the proprietor of 
 Ardmore, in the county of Waterford, intended to 
 erect floors in the round tower on his demesne, and 
 explored the interior ofthe tower down to its founda- 
 tion. With considerable difficulty, he caused to be 
 removed a vast accumulation of small stones, under 
 which were layers of large masses of rock, and 
 having reached as low down as within a few inches 
 of the external foundation, it was deemed useles and 
 dangerous to proceed any further. However, further 
 exploration having been considered desirable, the 
 task, at great peril, was recommenced. Mr. O'Dell 
 now found another series of large rocks, so closely 
 wedged together that it was difficult to introduce any 
 implement between them. After considerable labor, 
 
 these were also removed, and at length a perfectly 
 smooth floor of mortar was reached, which he feared 
 must be regarded a« a 'ne plus ultra;' but, still per- 
 severing, he removed the mortar, underneath which 
 he found a bed of mould, and under this, some feet 
 below the outside foundation, was discovered, lying 
 prostrate from E. to W., a human skeleton. And 
 this is all the real knowledge we have of the uses to 
 which the ancient round towers of Ireland were for- 
 merly employed. The old decayed Tower of Swords 
 contains a feudal relic — its ruined castle. This build- 
 ing has a very picturesque position on the banks of a 
 clear and rapid river. It was formerly a palace of 
 the Archbishop of Dublin, and must have been a 
 strong as well as extensive pile. It consists of 
 ranges of embattled walls flanked with towers. The 
 town itself was formerly a place of considerable im- 
 portance, as may be believed from its having had 
 the misfortune to attract the attention of the Dane*, 
 and to be repeatedly burnt and plundered by them. 
 It also occupied a prominent position in the time of 
 Charles I., for in this town the first royalist army of 
 the pale assembled on the 9th of November, 1641, 
 preparatory to that frightful civil war which caused 
 such calamities to the country ; and here they were 
 
 ST. COLUMB'S CHURCH AND SWORDS TO^\'ER. 
 
242 
 
 IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 defeated, and put to rout by the forces under Sir 
 Clmrles Coote on the 10th of January following, 
 when he beat them from their fortifications, killing 
 two hundred, without iiny mutiriul loss on his side, 
 except that of a son of Lord Falkland, who fell in 
 the engagement. Of the many distinguished plbccs 
 in the neighborhood, Pinglas may be mentioned as 
 the most interesting. There it was that O'Conner, 
 paramount king of Ireland, awaited the coming of 
 the Anglo-Normans, to decide the fate of Ireland. 
 Thus the battle of Finglas attached Ireland forever 
 as an apjunduge to England. It wasalso hither that 
 James fled after the battle ot the lioync — 'stopping 
 to take breath at Finglas wood.' He was speedily 
 followed by 'William, with an army of 30,000 men ; 
 hence he despatched the l)uke of Ormond to take 
 Dublin, and, in the meantime, strongly fortified his 
 csmp against any enemy. I'art of these works re- 
 raain ; those in a meadow adjoining the Glebe House 
 give the name of King's-tield to the enclosure. 
 
 Of the many illustrious successors of St. Columb 
 there are many traditions extant, but we prefer the 
 following, as having a right good moral attached to 
 it, and a relish of the olden time, and moreover, un- 
 encumbered with any dry chronological statement 
 to verify its accuracy. One of the lord abbots of 
 the monastery, as wise as he was pious, had a serv- 
 ing man, a great rogue, and above all much addict- 
 ed to the vice of lying. 
 
 The knave was given to boast of his wondrous 
 travels. He had visited countries which are no- 
 where to be found in the map, and seen things 
 ■which mortal eyes never beheld. He would lie 
 through the twenty-four hours of the clock, for 
 he dreamt falsehood in his sleep, to the truth of 
 ■»hich he swore when he was awake. The abbot 
 ■was a cunning as well as a virtuous man, and used 
 to see the lies in the varlet's mouth, so that he was 
 often caught, — hung, as it ■were, in his own un- 
 truths, as in a trap. Nevertheless, he persisted the 
 more in his lies ; and when any one said, * Hbw 
 can that be ? ' he would answer, with fierce oaths 
 and protestations, that so it was. He swore, ' stone 
 and bone,' and might the devil have his soul.and so 
 forth. Yet was the knave useful in the household ; 
 quick and handy ; therefore he was not disliked by 
 the abbot, though verily he was a great liar. 
 
 It chanced, one pleasant day in spring, after the 
 rains had fallen heavily, and swollen much the 
 floods, that the abbot and the knave rode out to- 
 gether, and their way passed through a shady and 
 silent forest. Suddenly appeared an old and well- 
 grown fox. 
 
 ' Look ! ' exclaimed the master of the knave ; 
 • look what a huge beast ! Never before have I seen 
 a Reynard so large." 
 
 ' Doth this beast surprise you by its hugeness r ' 
 replied straight this serving-groom, casting his eye 
 slightingly on the animal as he lied for fear away 
 in the cover of the breaks : ■ by stone and bone, 1 
 have been in a kingdom where the foxes are big as 
 are the bulls in this ! ' 
 
 Whereupon, hearing so vast a lie, the abbot an- 
 swered calmly, but with mockery in his heart : 
 
 • In that kingdom there must be excellent linings 
 for the cloaks, if furriers can be found well to 
 dress skins so large.' 
 
 And so they rode on, the abbot in silence ; but 
 goon ho began to sigh heavily. Still he seemed to 
 wax more and more sad in spirit, and his sighs 
 grew deeper and more quick. Then inquired the 
 knave of the abbot what sudden alHiction or cause 
 of sorrow had happened. 
 
 • Alas ! ' replied the wily master, ' I trust in 
 Heaven's goodness that neither of us two hath to- 
 day, by any forwardness of fortune, chanced to say 
 the thing which is not ; for assuredly he that hath 
 so done must this day perish.' 
 
 The knave, on hearing these doleful words, and 
 perceiving real sorrow to be depicted on the pale- 
 
 ness of his master's countenance, instantly felt as 
 if his cars grew more wide, that not a word or syl- 
 lable of so strange a discovery migh escape his 
 troubled sense. And so, with eager exclamations, 
 he demanded of the abbot to case his suspense, and 
 to explain why so cruel a doom was now about to 
 fall upon companionable liars. 
 
 ' Hear, then, dear knave,' answered the aboot, 
 to the earnestness of his servant ; ' since thou must 
 needs know, barken, and 'jod grant that no trouble 
 come to thee from what I shall say. To-day we 
 ride far, and in our course is a vast and luavy-nill- 
 ing fiood, of which the ford is narrow and the pool 
 is deep. To it hath Heaven given the power of 
 sweeping down into its dark holes all dealers in 
 falsehood, who may rashly venture to put them- 
 selves within its truth-lovii.g current ! liut to him 
 .who hath told no lie, there is no fear of this river. 
 Spur wc our horses, knave, for to-day our journey 
 must be long.' 
 
 Then the knave thought — ' Long, indeed, must 
 the journey be for some who are now here ; ' and, 
 as he spurred, he sighed heavier and deeper than his 
 master had done before him, who now went gaily 
 on ; nor ceased he to cry, ' spur we our horses, 
 knave, for to-day our journey must be long ! ' 
 
 Then came they to a brook. Its waters were 
 small, and its channel such as a boy might leap 
 across. Yet, nevertheless, the knave began to trem 
 ble, and falteringly he asked, • Is this now the river 
 where harmless liars must perish ?' 
 
 ' This ! ah ! no ' replied the abbot : ' this is but a 
 brook. No liar need tremble here.' 
 
 Yet was the knave not wholly assured, and, 
 stammering, he said, -My gracious lord, thy servant 
 now bethinks him that he to-day hath made a fox 
 too hugh ; that of which he spoke was venly not so 
 large as is an o.x ; but, stone and bone ! as big as a 
 good sized roe ! ' 
 
 The abbot replied, with wonder in his tone ; 
 ' What of this fox concerneth me ? If large or 
 small, I care not. Spur we our horses, knave, for 
 to-day our journey must be long ! ' 
 
 ' Long, indeed,' still thought the serving-groom ; 
 and in sadness he crossed the brook. Then came 
 they to a stream, running quickly through a green 
 meadow, the stones showing themselves in many 
 places above its frothy water. The varlet started, 
 and cried aloud : 
 
 'Another river ! Surely of rivers there is to- 
 day no end. Was it of this thou talkest hereto- 
 fore ? ' 
 
 'No,' replied the abbot, 'not of this.' And 
 more he said not ; yet marked he, with inward 
 gladness, his servant's fear. 
 
 ' Because, in good truth,' rejoined the knave, ' it 
 is on my conscience to give thee note, that the fox 
 of which I spake was not larger than a calf! ' 
 
 ' Large or small, let me not be troubled with thy 
 fox ; the beast concerneth me not at all ! ' 
 
 As they quitted the wooded country, they per- 
 ceived a river in the way, which gave signs of hav- 
 ing been swollen by the rains ; and on it was a 
 boat. 
 
 ' This, then, is the doom of liars,' said the knave ; 
 and he looked earnestly towards the passage-craft. 
 ' Be informed, my good lord, that Reynard was not 
 larger than a fat wedder sheep.' 
 
 The holy man looked angry, and answered : 
 ' This is not yet the grave of falsehood. Why tor- 
 ment me with this fox ■ Rather spur we our horses 
 for we have far to go.' 
 
 ' Stone and bone ! ' said the knave to himself, 
 ' the end of our journey approacheth.' 
 
 Now the day declined, and the shadows of thp 
 travellers lengthened on the ground ; but darker 
 than the twilight was the sadness on the face of the 
 knave. And, as the wind rustled the trees, he ever 
 and anon turned pale, and inquired of the abbot if 
 the noise were of a torrent or stream of water. 
 
 Still, as the evening fell, his eyes strove to discove 
 the course of a winding river. Hut nothing of the 
 sort could he discern, so that his spirit began to 
 revive, and he was fain to join in discourse with the 
 abbot ; but the abbot held his peace, and looked as 
 one who expects an evil thing. 
 
 Suddenly the way became steep, and they de- 
 scended into a low and wooded valley, in which 
 was a broad and black river, creeping fearfully 
 along, like the dark stream of Lethe, without bridge 
 or bark to bo seen near. 
 
 ' Alas, alas ! ' cried the knave ; and the anguish 
 oozed from the pores of his pale face. ' Ah, miser- 
 able me ! this, then,ia the river in which liars must 
 perish ? ' 
 
 'Even so,' said the abbot; ' this is the stream of 
 which I spake ; but the ford is sound and good for 
 true men. Spur we our horses, knave, for night 
 approaeheth, and -we have yet far to go.' 
 
 ' My life is dear to me,' said the trembling serv- 
 ing-man ; ' and thou knowest were it lost my wife 
 would be disconsolate. In sincerity, then, I declare 
 that the fox I saw in the distant country was not 
 larger than he who fled from us in the wood this 
 morning.' 
 
 Then laughed the abbot aloud, and said : 
 
 ' Ho, knave ! wast though afraid of thy life ? and 
 ■iviU nothing cure thy lying ? Is not falsehood, 
 which kills the soul, worse than death, which has 
 mastery only over the body ? This river is no more 
 than any other, nor hath it a power such us I 
 feigned. The ford is safe, and the waters gentle as 
 those we have already passed. But who shall pass 
 thee over the shame of this day ? In it thou must 
 needs sink, unless penitence come to help thee over, 
 and cause thee to look back on the gulph of thy 
 lies as on a danger from which thou has been de- 
 livered by Heaven's grace.' 
 
 And as he railed against his servant, the obbot 
 rode on into the water, and both in safety reached 
 the opposite shore. 
 
 Then vowed the knave, by stone and bone, that 
 from that time forward he would duly measure his' 
 words ; and glad was he so to escape. 
 
 AN APPARITION. 
 
 I had been called, in the month of November last, 
 
 to attend the nephew of Mr. D , who was afilict- 
 
 ed with a very serious malady. Providence, how- 
 ever, willed it that a lucky crisis should save his 
 life, and I remained with him during his conval- 
 escence. You would not guess what had brought 
 this poor young man almost to the verge of the 
 grave. It was the fear of ghosts. 
 
 He had gone to spend the holidays in the country 
 with his uncle, who lived in an old castle, where for 
 some years it had been reported that one of the 
 rooms ■was haunted at night by phantoms. Every 
 one, from the humble pastor, the beadle, and the 
 village schoolmaster, to Mr. D himself, was per- 
 fectly convinced of this apparition of ghosts. They 
 had, as they said, often heard the noise of chains 
 and groans. Indeed, there was not a house in the 
 whole village but had some dark tale — some fright- 
 ful phantasmagoria to relate. 
 
 The event which had happened to the nephew of 
 
 Mr. D had disconcerted sorn" '■■ their doubts, 
 
 and confirmed others in their fears. The young 
 man, hearing nothing else spoken of at his uncle's 
 but the haunted room, had ridiculed their fears, 
 and, to confound them, he had made a resolution of 
 passing the night there, in the chamber of death; 
 but, after an hour or two, he had returned pale, suf- 
 focated, and in a dying state. 
 
 One night, when we were all collected round the 
 fire, rejoicing in the convalescence of the young 
 man, I manifested the intention of going myself to 
 spend the night in the haunted chamber ; all the 
 company turned pale, and the young man said to me 
 quickly, with a frightened air — 
 
IRISH MISCELLA^JY. 
 
 243 
 
 ' Doctor, I beg and implore of you not to go." 
 
 ' But you are not dead, ray young friend, from 
 the trial.' 
 
 ' Mo, because I had strength to tear myself from 
 the embraces of the spectres ; but I am sure you 
 will not escape them.' 
 
 'I, however, persisted in my resolution, notwith- 
 standing the entreaties of the young man and all the 
 others, who trembled involuntarily. 
 
 This chamber formed part of a wing of the castle, 
 for a long time uninhabited ; to get to it one had to 
 traverse a court, and scramble over some ruins up a 
 staircase half crumbled away. I had succeeded in 
 getting a little boy, belonging to the farm, to ac- 
 company me, but not until I had enticed him with 
 the glitter of a piece of silver. 
 
 ' Take cai-e, doctor,' said my young patient ; 
 ' mind you take with you several candles. I had 
 but one, and the breath of the phantoms put it 
 out.' 
 
 ' But yon will be cold, this autumn night,' said 
 Mr. D . 
 
 ' Let the little fellow take with you some kind- 
 ling, doctor,' said his nephew, ' and you will find 
 some wood in the chimney of that horrid place, 
 which I tried to light, but it was extinguished by 
 the breath of the spectres. If you wish to sleep 
 there, doctor, you will find the mattrass and bed- 
 clothes which I took there the night of my unfortu- 
 nate expedition.' 
 
 I found myself at last on the sinister staircase. 
 When I had arrived at the top I sent away my guide, 
 and enjoined him to remain in some place near 
 enough to hear my voice, in ease I should want him 
 to call up the inhabitants of the castle. Holding in 
 one hand two candles, and in the other a chafing- 
 dish containing the kindling, I pushed open with 
 my knee a door, which had not been shut close 
 since the young man's visit there, and entered a vast 
 apartment ; but before lighting the fire I explored 
 the entire place. The four walls were damp and 
 naked ; the two windows were listed, and the chinks 
 completely stopped up. In an alcove of the room 
 was a door, which, no doubt, had not been used for 
 years ; near the door I smelt a most disagreeable 
 odor, but I at once recognised the musty smell one 
 breathes in places long uninhabited. I returned to 
 the open door, with the intention of shutting it ; a 
 slight current of air passed over my face, and seem- 
 ed to revive me — it came from a small grated loop- 
 hole which lighted the landing place. 
 
 Having closed the heavy door with care, I tried 
 to light the fire ; impossible, the coals did nothing 
 but smoke. 
 
 ' The poor young man,' said I to myself, ' did not 
 remark that it was the damp of the fire-place which 
 prevented the coals and wood from lighting.' Be- 
 ing forced to resign myself to pass the night with- 
 out fire, I raked out of the grate the smouldering 
 embers, fearing that the smoke, joined to the bad 
 air of the apartment, would force me to leave it. I 
 placed my two candles alight upon the chimney- 
 piece, and ratUng myself in the counterpane, I lay 
 down on the mattrass. ' Poor young man,' said I 
 tomyself,shutting my eyes, half asleep; 'poor young 
 man who believes in ghosts.' 
 
 I became heavier and heavier with sleep ; a weight 
 seemed to oppress my respiration ; fearing to suffo- 
 cate, I started up; my two candles gave a pale light, 
 which served only to exaggerate the deepness of the 
 obscurity ; I felt as if an icy hand pressed my chest 
 and throat ; dim shadows every instant intercepted 
 the various reflections of the light upon the walls ; 
 strange rustlings.as of shroudeH spectres, assailed my 
 ears ; at this idea, I opened wide my eyes — ' Oh 
 horror ! what do I see '' 
 
 Opposite me, a white light,;iike that of the moon, 
 veiled by a cloud, in the midst of which stood a 
 spectre agitating itself in its grave clothes, which all 
 at once stops and looks at me ; I wish to fly the 
 
 frightful apparition, when I see, with terror, that 
 the spectre strives to shake off its shroud to pursue 
 me. Through the vapors, its face appears livid and 
 fleshless ; I try to drive it back with my arms. The 
 spectre, now disengaged of its shroud, stretches out 
 its long arms to seize me ; at the height of terror, I 
 bounded back ; the motion diminishes for a moment 
 the oppression on my chest. Turning away my 
 looks from this strange and terrible vision, I threw 
 myself on my knees to pray ; impossible — the op- 
 pression returns. I now heard faint noises like 
 sighs, and the shadows I had seen at a distance 
 were now flitting round me, striking my chest, and 
 touching my head. 
 
 ' Heavens !' said I to myself. ' It is, however, 
 absurd to believe in ghosts ; the dead never harm ; 
 might it not be the living who play at phantoms to 
 intimidate the inhabitants of the castle ?' I then re- 
 membered that some strangers had offered to buy 
 the domain from Mr. D , in the hope of obtain- 
 ing it at a cheaper rate; might this not be some trick 
 they were playing him ? Then I tried to remember 
 all the ridiculous stories of ghosts known by every- 
 body ; but the most painful sensations pervaded 
 me ; I felt as if encompassed by arras which sought 
 to suffocate me. So intolerable becarae the oppres- 
 sion that, desperate, I now sought to fly ; and hit- 
 ting myself here and there against the walls, I touch- 
 ed something as cold as ice. I drew back terrified, 
 and in the pale light again beheld the frightful 
 spectre, whose yawning mouth seemed open, ready 
 to swallow me. I stumbled and fell, when a grave- 
 like smell assailed me, much worse than that which 
 I had breathed on entering this fatal place, which, 
 perhaps, would be my tomb. It seemed to me that 
 the yawning phantom had exhaled this pestiferous 
 odor ; and by an inconceivable fatality, at the same 
 instant, both my lights went out, and, my eyes, still 
 fascinated bj' the apparition, in their two red wicks 
 I imagined I beheld two burning eyeballs. They 
 disappeared, and left me plunged in the most pro- 
 found obscurity. I wished anew to pray, but was 
 prevented by the oppression on my chest, and the 
 death-like smell, which redoubled. At last I felt 
 dying, and made one last effort, by bounding a few 
 steps forward. The wall, or floor, gave way and 
 opened. In my delirium, it seemed to me that I 
 was falling into some frightful abyss — when — oh ! 
 happiness ! I feel less oppressed, I breathe more 
 freely ; I beheld a small aperture above my head ; 
 I fly to it ; and still a prey to my hallucination, I 
 gave a terrible cry, which was answered in the dis- 
 tance by one as fearful. 
 
 At this moment my eyes were blinded by a whirl- 
 wind ; something cold and shaggy passed over my 
 forehead ; my hands let go their hold of the edge of 
 the aperture which I had caught, and I fell, de- 
 prived of sensation. I cannot say how long I 
 remained in that state, but life was restored to 
 me in the air which came from that species of win- 
 dow. 
 
 Day was beginning to break ; I found myself on 
 the landing-place ; the window was the loophole 
 which I have already spoken of. The lucidity of 
 my ideas had returned with the twilight. I re-en- 
 tered the sinister chamber, seeking to explain to 
 myself the natural causes of my fright. This is 
 the conclusion I came to, after a few minutes' re- 
 flection. 
 
 The rustling and the shadows which had assailed 
 me were enormous bats, which had taken refuge in 
 this uninhabited place. What made me ascertain 
 this was, that there were still some clinging to the 
 joists. 
 
 And the apparition of the spectre in the shroud ? 
 I discovered, in an obscure hollow of the room, 
 which had escaped my first investigation, a large 
 looking-glass, half broken, leaning against the wall, 
 which had, perhaps, formally ornamented the 
 mantel-piece ; the mattrass upon which I had l^in 
 
 was opposite this glass, so that the spectre which 
 appeared to me was my own imago, dull and 
 confused, which was agitated according as I was 
 agitated in the counterpane in which I had rolled 
 myself, and which stretched out its arms to me at 
 she same time I performed the same evolution to- 
 wards it. 
 
 I allow I could not help smiling, although still 
 shuddering at my frightful sensations. During the 
 night I explored anew the chimney, and, having 
 looked into the interior, perceived that it was en- 
 tirely blocked up. This accounted for the candles 
 getting out, for as the windows were also closed up, 
 no air or light could get into the room. But from 
 whence came the insupportable odor ? 
 
 I felt here and there the walls ; I examined with 
 scrupulous attention the closed-up door; I had 
 hardly been near it a moment, when the bad smell 
 increased to such a pitch that I was again nearly 
 suffocated. I [then remembered of having hit my 
 head against this door when I had fallen to the 
 ground. 
 
 ' This odor,' said I to myself, 'penetrates into 
 the room through the chinks of this door ; there is 
 no doubt another room beyond this — some secret 
 chamber, filled with heaven knows what.' At this 
 moment I trembled in spite of myself. This wing 
 of the castle was solitary — uninhabited. If there 
 should be some frightful mystery ! — murder perhaps 
 had there been perpetrated ! 
 
 I was Lnterriipted in the midst of this horrid sus- 
 picion by exclamations of surprise and the sound of 
 feet on the stairs. 
 
 ' We had thought you dead !' cried several 
 voices. 
 
 I recognised Mr. D , his nephew, and seyeral 
 
 other curious persons. The young man, looking at 
 me with stupor, seemed to say, ' What ! are you still 
 alive ?' 
 
 ' How pale you are, doctor,' said he ; ' will you 
 now deny that I had cause for my fright r' 
 
 ' Yes, I do deny the supernatural cause, but the 
 natural cause is there,' and I pointed to the myste- 
 rious door. ' What is there behind that door, Mr. 
 D ?' 
 
 ' I know not ; it has been blocked up for a long 
 time, and I have never had the curiosity to have it 
 opened.' 
 
 ' What a dreadful smell !' cried everybody ; ' it is 
 like the exhalation from a chance vault.' 
 
 Some levers and pickaxe we soon procured, and 
 the door was burst open. There was a gensral cry 
 of terror. Never was there a more pestiferious and 
 horrible odor ! All the company fled ; some of them 
 could hardly drag themselves to the door, so greatly 
 suffocated and frightened were they. It was not till 
 the next day that we hazarded exploring the fright- 
 ful mystery. 
 
 What did we find ? — dead bodies ? Oh ! no ; I 
 smile still when I think of it. What was, then, this 
 fatal chamber ? A loft without a window, filled for 
 many years with trusses of hay which time had rot- 
 ted, and which exhaled this mephitic odor. The 
 thickened atmosphere of the obscure chamber had 
 in consequence beccome so corrupted, that perhaps 
 my attempt had cost me my life, but that the door 
 at the head of the stairs had been left ajar about fif- 
 teen days before by Mr. D 's nephew, which had 
 
 permitted the air from the loophole to penetrate this 
 infected chamber — the abode of bats. The weight 
 and corruction of the atmosphere naturally explain- 
 to me the cause of my oppression, and the night- 
 mare which had tormented me. 
 
 This, then, is another proof of the absurdity of a 
 belief in ghosts, which exist only in the kingdom of 
 chimeras, otherwise the imagination. 
 
 Why is crinoline like an obstinate man ? Because 
 it Qftep stands out al)out trfles, 
 
244 
 
 IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 PRISONERS* PASTIMES. 
 
 After Imviiig ■;(iinecl tlic love of tt fly, Pellisson 
 fouiul it eu>ier to tuine it spider. This insect had 
 drawn its web over the bars of the grating wliich 
 allowed light and air to enter the cell j he spared it 
 thi- trouble of watching for its prey by placing half- 
 dead Hies on the edge of the grating, which the spider 
 came down to letch. I' soon grew accustomed to 
 this system, and soon ventured to come and take its 
 prey out of I'ellissou's hand. He continued his 
 experiments in spider education, and it soon came 
 to its master's hand, not merely at his voice, but 
 at the sound of a life, played by the Uasque who 
 ■watched him. It would walk familiarly on IMlis- 
 son's knees, and seemed to be grateful to the man 
 who treated it with so much kindness. It was no 
 longer a spider in Pellisson's eyes ; it was a friend, 
 a companion in misfortune, a state prisoner. We 
 cannot believe that a governor of the Bastille, M. 
 do Uescmaux, had the barbarity to trample under 
 foot this companion of an unhappy man. It would 
 be almost a crime, the more odious as it could only 
 be suggested by base and stupid cruelty ; but a 
 brutal and halt-uitoxicuted turnkey was probably 
 the perpetrator of this murder, which drew from 
 the prisoner this mournful exclamation, ' Ah, sir, 
 you have caused me greater pain than you would 
 produce by all the tortures in the world. I would 
 rather you had killed me ?' 
 
 A prisoner named Li:ird, whom Constantine de 
 Renneville had as his companion in his room and 
 cell, had tamed rats, which eat and slept with him. 
 This man, who was accused of having published 
 libels against the king and court, had not a friend 
 in the world, and had became attached to his prison 
 by the affection which he had inspired among these 
 vile animals ; he even cursed any o^e who was sent 
 to share the ' stone jerkin ' in which he was rotting 
 on his straw, lie knew them all by the names he 
 had given them, and could distinguish them one 
 from the other. One was called Katapan, another 
 Le Goulu, a third Le Friand, and so on with the 
 remainder. When he dined, you might see all 
 these rats come around his dish and make a horrible 
 disturbance while he tried to keep them on friendly 
 terms. ' Come Goulu,' he would say to one, ' you 
 cat too fast. Let Le Friand come up to have his 
 share. Why didst thou bite Ratapan ?' And he 
 tried to lecture these indocile brutes as if they had 
 been gifted with intelligence. ' If I had killed one 
 of those villainous animals," adds the eye witness, 
 • he would have flown at my throat. It was a 
 pleasure which diverted me many times to see him 
 call these brutes by their names. You might see 
 them come out of their holes as if to receive orders. 
 He gave them a little piece of brepd, after which he 
 sent them back to their holes by giving them a 
 gentle tap on the tail. 
 
 After having been separated from his friend, 
 D'Alligre, who had shared the wondrous toils and 
 fortunate issue of his first escape, he then sought 
 among the abject animals for another sort of friend- 
 ship, which would at least enable him to endure 
 the burden of his solitude. His new friends were 
 rats that he had tamed. ' To them,' he writes, ' I 
 owed the only fortunate distraction I found during 
 my long wretchedness." These rats disturbed him 
 greatly by coming to eat his straw, and even biting 
 him in his face ; he was resolved, therefore, that as 
 he was forced to live with them, he would try to 
 inspire them with some degree of affection. One 
 day a huge rat having made its appearance, he 
 called it gently, and threw it some crumbs of 
 bread, which it took after some hesitation, and 
 carried off to his hole. The next day the rat re- 
 appeared, and required less pressing to come and 
 take the bread. On the third day the rat became 
 more familiar and more voracious, because Latude 
 deprived liimself of a portion of his daily ration of i 
 meat to attract his hungry guest. On the ensuing j 
 
 days the rat, whose confidence increased with each 
 repast, come up at a full trot to take its meal from 
 the prisoner's hand. This was not nil; example is 
 as contagious among rats as among men. The rat 
 took new lodgings, and summoned its wife and six 
 young ones ; they took up their quarters around 
 Latude, who gave them names, and taught them to 
 walk on their hind legs, to reach their food, which 
 was hung up two feet from the ground. This 
 society of rats found themselves so comfortable that 
 they showed their teeth at any intruder who at- 
 tempted to enter their ranks, they multiplied 
 patriarchally up to the number of seventy-six, great 
 and small, who lived, like Latude, on the king' 
 bread. The spiders were, doubtlessly, of a more 
 savage character than the rats, for Latude never 
 succeeded in taming one. Although he offered 
 them flies and insects, although he seduced them 
 by whistling and playing the flegeolet (which he 
 had formed by takii.g a wheat-stalk out of hi 
 palliasse,) the spiders would not yield to the soft 
 impeachment, and hence he concluded that Pellis 
 son's spider was only a myth. Still, the Baron de 
 Trenck, couHned during the same period at Magde 
 burg, found his spiders much tamer ; he had even 
 promised to render a brilliant homage to the mar- 
 vellous insects, and he would have furnished some 
 powerful arguments in favor of animals possessing 
 a soul. He merely relates, however, in his me- 
 moirs, the touching history of the mouse, which he 
 tamed to such degree that it came to eat out of his 
 mouth. 'I could not,' he says, 'trace all the re- 
 fltctions which the astonishing intelligence of this 
 animal produced in me.' One night the mouse, by 
 leaping, scratching, and gnawing, caused such a 
 disturbance, that the major, summoned by the sen- 
 tinels, commanded a round of the prison, and him- 
 self examined the locks and bolts, to assure himself 
 that no attempt at escape was being made. The 
 Baron de Trenck confessed that all the noise was 
 produced by the mouse, which could not sleep, and 
 demanded its master's liberty. The major seized 
 the mouse, and carried it off to the guard-room. 
 On the next day, the mouse, which had tried with 
 great courage to gnaw his way through the door, 
 waited for the dinner hour, to return to its master 
 at the heels of the gaoler. Trenck was greatly sur 
 prised to find it climbing up his legs, and giving 
 him manifold caresses. The major seized the poor 
 animal a second time, refusing to restore it to the 
 prisoner ; but he made it a present to his own wife, 
 who put it in a cage, hoping to bring it round by 
 kind treatment and good food. Two days later, 
 the mouse, which would take no food, was found 
 dead. Grief had killed it." 
 
 A STANDING ARMY. 
 
 Philip Augustus of France was the first king who 
 established an army of paid troops, in no way con- 
 nected with the feudal militia, to protect his throne 
 and humbler subjects from the lawlessness and 
 tyranny of his great vassels. From the fact of their 
 receiving money, they were called, ' Soldati' 
 (whence our word 'soldier'), derived from ' soldo,' 
 the Italian for ' pay." Several English sovereigns 
 also maintained similar bodies of mercenaries, and 
 paid them out of the revenues of the vast estates 
 belonging to the Crown. Regular garrisons were 
 kept in the Tower of London, the Castle of Dover, 
 and in the ilarches along the Scottish border- 
 posts of great military importance, where the pres- 
 scnce of trained soldiers was always required ; but, 
 with these exceptions, the troops we have mentioned 
 were only raised for some special purpose, and were 
 disbanded as soon as the occasion for which they 
 were emboided had passed. Un-.il the reign of 
 Charles VII. of France, what we now designate a 
 standing army — that is, a body of soldiers trained 
 and paid by government and kept under arms 
 during peace for the defence of the state— was un- 
 
 known. By this time the invention of gunpowder 
 had entirely swept away the ancient plan of making 
 war. As long as personal courage, strength, and 
 daring decided the fate of a buttle, war had great 
 charms for noble knights, who fought each one at 
 his own expense, on horseback, eased in armour, 
 and were always the principal combatants. Intellec- 
 tual employment was almost unknown in those 
 days, war and the chase being considered the only 
 pursuits worthy the attention of a gentleman. But 
 the introduction of firearms, especially artillery, 
 deprived brute force and valor of their exclusive 
 importance. It was one thing, encased in proof 
 mail, to ride amongst an undisciplined and almost 
 unarmed herd of leather-dad countrymen, and to 
 mow them down with two-handed swords ; but to 
 charge a line of sturdy pikemen, supported by a 
 rear rank of musketeers, whose bullets sent horse 
 and rider rolling in the dust before the latter had 
 the opportunity of striking a blow, was a very dif- 
 ferent state of affairs. Generals began to see the 
 necessity for regular tactics under their new con- 
 ditions. A crowd of armed men, each one fighting 
 for himself, was no longer of any use in settling the 
 disputes of nations. A military machine, that could 
 be directed with exact and steady action by the 
 master mind of the commander, was required. To 
 produce this, practice, training, and strict and un- 
 questionable obedience were demanded, and the 
 presence of a lower order of men was required in 
 the ranks. The great importance of regular infantry 
 became every day more and more apparent ; war 
 was reduced to a science, and standing armies were 
 then established throughout the continent of Eu- 
 rope. 
 
 Management of Boats in a Broken Sea. — The 
 Royal National Life-Boat Institution has issued the 
 following circular to its branches in respect to the pro- 
 per management of bouts when running ashore before 
 a heavy broken sea. It is hoped that the boat-men of 
 our coast, and particularly life-boat coxswains, will 
 pay particular attention to the practical remarks con- 
 tained in the circular : — Although tlje proper manage- 
 ment of a boat when running before ajbroken sea to the 
 shore is well understood at many parts of our coasts, 
 yet as mismanagements or carelessness under such 
 circumstances is still the cause of many boats being 
 upset by ' broaching to,' the Committee of the Nation- 
 al Life-Boat Institution think it important to call the 
 attention of all their life-boats' crews to the cause of 
 such accidents, and to the proper mode of preventing 
 them, as indisputably proved by experience. The 
 cause of u boat's ' broaching to' is the proptlling her 
 rapidly before the sea, whether by sails or oars, instead 
 of checking her speed and allowing each successive 
 sea to pass her on its approach. There is therefore ex- 
 treme danger at all times m runniog a boat with speed 
 before a heavy broken sea in shoal water. Excepting 
 where the beach is steep, the safer management of a 
 rowing boat is to back hei stern foremast to the shore, 
 keeping her bow pointed to the seas and propelling her 
 slightly against each sea until it passed her or is under 
 her stern. 
 
 If a boat is rowed to the shore with her 
 stem to seaward, her oars should then be regularly 
 backed so as to stop her way on the approach of each 
 wave ; and way should not again be given until the 
 wave has passed to the bow, and her position thereby 
 be retained on the outer or safe side of the wave. This 
 treatment runs exactly counter to the natural desire to 
 get quickly over the apprehended danger ; but it is the 
 only safe mode by which a boat can be taken to the 
 shore before a heavy broken surf.' 
 
 A Reasonable Gdess. — An Irishman, who was 
 leaning against a lamp post, as a funeral procession 
 was passing by, was asked who was dead ? ' I can't 
 exactly say, sir,' said he, ' but I presume it is the 
 jiotleman in the cofSa.' 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 245 
 
 THE HARBOR OF KINSALE. 
 
 The harbor of Kiusalo, nlthougli greatly inferior 
 to that of Cork, is capacious, deep, and well-shel- 
 tered. It is defended by a strong fort, called Char- 
 les-Fort, so-called in honor of Charles II., and 
 erected by the Duke of Orniond in 1G81. One of 
 the outer forts of Charles-Fort is called 'the Devil's 
 liactery." The legend attached to it is that the 
 arch-enemy was wont to take his rounds upon the 
 ramparts, carrying in his hand a cannon ball, and 
 terrifying the sentinels night after night. The 
 cause of this appearance is said to have originated 
 in a tragic event that once occurred there. The 
 
 yond the river, and was one of the last men who 
 came down to the bridge, but he would not pass. 
 Turning round, ho rewarded the French with a grim 
 look, and spoke aloud, as follows : — 
 
 ' So this is the end of our boasting. This is our first 
 battle, and we retreat. The boy Stewart will not 
 live to hear that said.' Then striding forward with 
 his giant might, he fell furiously on his nearest 
 enemies with the bayonet, refused the quarter they 
 seemed desirous of granting, and died fightipgin the 
 midst of them. 
 
 Still more touching, more noble, more heroic, was 
 the death of Sergeant Kobcrt M'Quade. During 
 
 only son of the governor prevailed upon the sentinel M'Leod's rush, this man, also from the north of 
 on duty to convey a message from 
 him into the town, taking his fire- 
 lock and place during his absence. 
 The young man fell asleep on his 
 post, and the governor, visiting the 
 stations, and finding.as he supposed, 
 the sentinel betraying his trust, shot 
 him dead and to his horror, found he 
 had slain his child. So great was his 
 despair that he leaped from the ram- 
 parts into the sea and perished. From 
 that fatal night his Satanic majesty 
 was a constant visitor at the fort ; 
 and a cannon is shown there to this 
 day on which he left the mark of his 
 thumb. Several other ' frightful ' 
 stories of demons, ghosts and hob- 
 goblins, are told of the neighbor- 
 hood. 
 
 The accompanying print repre- 
 sents the fort, the block-hou se, and 
 covered way," with a sloop-of-war 
 beating in, and a pilot-boat under a foresail. 
 
 The ' Old Head,' the point nearest the sea, has a 
 light-house, and has long been a famous landmark 
 for mariners. Although, for upwards of a century, 
 Kinsale has ceased to occupy a very prominent 
 station among the harbors of Ireland, and has lost 
 its commercial importance, it is still a flourishing 
 town, its prosperity being sustained, chiefly, by its 
 facilities for fishing, the Cork markets being almost 
 exclusively supplied from it, — the skill of its ship 
 and boat-builders, and by its convenience as an 
 outlet for the transfer of cattle to England. The 
 adjoining coast is unhappily full of melancholy 
 relics of shipwrecks ; the sad fate of the Killarney 
 steam-packet must be fresh in the recollections of 
 our readers ; and in the churchyard are numerous 
 grave-stones, recording merely the facts of bodies 
 being washed on shore and interred there. 
 
 BRAVE IRISHMEN. 
 
 Here some illustrations of the intelligence and the 
 lofty spirit of Irish soldiers will not be misplaced. 
 When the last of the retreating troops had passed 
 
 KIN SALE H AKBOK , 
 
 Ireland, saw two Frenchmen level their muskets on 
 rests against a high gap in a bank awaiting the up- 
 rise of an enemy ; the present Adjutant-General 
 Brown (Sir George), then a lad of sLxteen, attempt- 
 ed to ascend at the fatal point; M'Quade, himself 
 only twenty-four years of age, pulled him back, 
 saying, with a calm, decided tone, 'you are too 
 young sir, to be killed ;' and then, offering his own 
 person to the fire, fell dead, pierced with two 
 balls. 
 
 was heard, and not only heard, but felt; and even iho 
 eye fixed upon the 'poet of all circles.' When ho 
 finished, the burst of enthusiasm was electric, and his 
 thanking smile, as he pinnccd around, emboldened his 
 Hudicnco to exclaim as with one voice, 'Another! 
 another !' He sat down, the brilliancy of the expres- 
 sion faded; the sparkling light of love in his eyes 
 deepened into the intense fire of patriotism; his form 
 dilated, and he gave the line — 
 
 Go where glory waits thee! 
 as if it was a command from heaven. I had been but 
 a short time married; my husband expected ever day 
 to be ordered on to the war; my hopes for him were 
 so mingled with terrors, that I folt a shudder when I 
 
 heard the words of the song. They 
 
 were succeeded by others, 
 
 But when fame elates thee, 
 Oh, then remember me, 
 
 in tones so plaintive, so tendcr.so over- 
 whelming, that, ashamed of my emo 
 tion, I covered my face with my 
 hands, and pressed it on the piano. I 
 tried to endure it ; but every line, 
 winged by such bewildering melody, 
 entered into my heart. I had said 
 words with the same meaning to my 
 husband twenty times. And as the 
 poet finished, I was completely over- 
 powerd ; the burst of tears would 
 come, and my husband carried his 
 foolish child-wife out of the room. I 
 afterwards heard that the poet had 
 said,' those tears were the most elo- 
 quen thanks he could ever receive.' 
 
 'TOM MOORE.' 
 
 An Irish lady has published an interesting reminis- 
 cence of Erin's admired bard, in 'Little's Living 
 Age.' It gives her impressions of the early appear- 
 ance of the poet in one of the distinguished circles of 
 the Irish metropolis. All anxiously awaited his arri- 
 val, she says : 
 
 ' As the evening melted away, the anxiety of the 
 hostess and her friends increased to fever heat. At 
 last a double knock, and the hero of that and many 
 other evenings, entered. ' I saw,' continued our 
 friend, ' a very, very little man, without star or ribbon 
 —not the Lord Lieutenant ! I was so disappointed; 
 
 a bridge, an Irishman of the 43d, named Pigot, , 
 
 a bold, turbulent fellow, leaned on his firelock, re- ! I even thought him ugly. I looked at all the radiant 
 garded the advancing enemy for some time, and 1 officers, and wondered who the l.ttlc man was. Then 
 then, in the author's hearing, thus delivered his ' came fine speeches from the hostess, and there gathered 
 opinion of the action : • General" Crauford wanted round him all the old and young. I.was provoked; all 
 glory, so he stopped on on the wrong side of the 1 this fuss for a little tiny man in black, who was nether 
 river, and now he is knocked over to the right side. ' the lord lieutenant nor an officer I sat down sulk, y 
 m, T^ L , . u . . ..-I u- I at the end of the grand piano, and resolved not even to 
 
 The French general won t be content until his men ""• ""- '-"" "' ""= B'" i ■ 
 
 ., •, , j.i ., -11 Ijokat him. Presently, the hostess manoeuvred him 
 
 try to get on the wrong side also, and then they will '■Ju»- "i- """■ ^ ■^. . , . u c . ~i 
 
 V . , J 1- , Tir ,1 u .X. -u ^ ■ • t 1 to the piano, and th.m showing him the first number 
 
 be knocked back. Well, both will claim a victory, T" ""- I""""' "" , , ,. tr ,„-i 
 
 , . , . .., , ., u . • ► ■ .K„ „:a ', of his own melodies, asked him to sing. He said 
 
 which is neither here nor there, but just in the mid- i' ., , ., i . „i,„.,, „„, 
 
 ,,-.,. m. . , I. a-u « • 1,- i soroething— I did not heear exactly what, about not 
 
 die of the river. That's glory!' Then, firing his | I""™ _ b _^ u... ,.„ ,,„,.,„ x„;.h w. .n,«ll_ delicate 
 musket, he fell into the ranks. 
 
 Even to the letter was his prediction verified, for 
 
 General Crauofrd published a contradiction of Mas- 
 sena's dispatch. The sarcasm was enforced by one 
 of a tragic nature. There was a fellow-soldier to 
 Pigot, a north of Ireland man named Stewart, but 
 jocularly called the boy, because of his youth, nine- 
 teen, and his gigantic stature and strength. He had 
 fought bravely, and displayed great intelligence be- 
 
 hcing pieparcd, but sat down, with his small, delicate 
 hands preluded a moment, and then sang ' Rich and 
 Rare' Before he had got to the 
 
 bright gold ring, 
 
 I was spellbound. The head slightly upturned ; the 
 white, full, high brow, over which his silken hair lay 
 in rich folds; the brightest, tcndcrcst, most loving eyes 
 were eloquent of expression, the smiling mouth gave 
 forth the most bird-like, gushing music; every word 
 
 Use op Coffee. — ^It is something 
 singular to trace the manner in which arose the use 
 of the common beverage, coffee, without which 
 few persons, in any half or wholly civilized country 
 in the world, would seem hardly able to exist. At 
 the time Columbus discovered America, it had 
 never been known or used. It only grew in Arabia 
 and upper Ethiopia. The discovery of its use as a 
 beverage is ascribed to the superior of a monastery, 
 in Arabia, who desirous of preventing the monks 
 from sleeping at their nocturnal services, made them 
 drink the infusion of coffee, upon the report of some 
 shepherds, who observed that their flocks were 
 more lively after browsing on the fruit of that plant. 
 Its reputation spread throughout the adjacent coun- 
 tries, and in about 200 years it reached Paris. A 
 single plant brought there in ITU, became the 
 parent stock of all the French coffee plantations 
 in the West Indies. The extent of the consumption 
 can now hardly be realized. The United States 
 alone annually consume it at the cost of its landing 
 of from fifteen to sixteen millions of dollars. You 
 may know the Arabia or ilocha, the best coffee, by 
 its small bean of a dark yellow color. The Java 
 and East Indies, the next in quality, are larger and 
 of a paler yellow. The West Indian Rio has a 
 bluish or greenish, gray tint. 
 
 Tire GoKDiAN WoKM — Eels. — There is a ridicu- 
 lous belief in some parts of Ireland, that the hairs 
 from a horse's tail, when dropped into the water, 
 become endued with life ; in England, this trans- 
 formation is supposed to produce the ' Gordius 
 aquatieus,' a small thread-like worm, of red color, 
 which is found in groups knotted together in the 
 water. In Scotland, we understand, the product of 
 the hair is supposed to be a small eel ; we need 
 hardly say that both these ideas are perfectly erro- 
 neous. It is certainly pu/zling, at first sight, to un- 
 stand in what manner ponds or other pieces of 
 water, in which previously no fish were known, 
 should be suddenly found full of eels ; but the diffi- 
 culty vanishes on returning to the natural history of 
 the eel tribe. There it will be seen that they (the 
 young eels in particular), perform very long migra- 
 tions over the moist grass, chiefly in the night-time; 
 even full-grown eels will leave their native water 
 after dark in search of food. 
 
246 
 
 IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 JACK O* THE LANTERN. I 
 
 There are more tttlngi^ tn heaven ami eartli, Horatio, 
 Tbao are drvamt of in your philosophy.— SiiAKRruAnE. 
 
 JIv uncle, kind, generous soul ! was deeply im- 
 bued with superstition — with a tirm belief in su- 
 pernatural influences, a circulating library of legen- 
 dary lore, and a living chronicle of all the compacts 
 made with the ' ould boy ' from the days of ' I)oc- 
 thor I'osther ' (Faustua) up to those of the Witch of 
 Endor. He very rarely diverged into the light and 
 amusing fictions of fairyism, for his genius, and, by 
 consequence, his course of studies, were entirely of 
 the German school, wild, dark, and horritic. The 
 reader will be pleased to take notice, that I do not 
 use the word 'studies' in the vanity of showing that 
 this deor ond near relation was possessed of book- 
 learning ; on the contrary, I roundly assert that his 
 lore was not derived from books, for though, as I 
 have heard himself assert, he mastered the horn- 
 book at ' ould Tim Casey's' hedge seminary, and 
 spelled his weary way as far as the ' oliphant ' (ele- 
 phant) through a three-penny primer at the age of 
 fifteen, the dread of flagellation for an unfortunate 
 boxing bout with a red-shinned fcllon' of seventeen, 
 whom he forced to bite the dust, made him bid 
 adieu to book-learning and Tim Casey before he 
 could take the 'rhinoceros,' and all his natural his- 
 tory, by the horn. 
 
 I may observe, by way of a parenthesis, that my 
 revered uncle was celebrated in after life for his skill 
 in the noble science of defence, and shall take this op- 
 portunity of testifying that, whatever share of dex- 
 terity I possess at handling the fist or cudgel, has 
 been entirely owing to his fostering care. He had 
 a sovereign contempt for the Newtonian philoso- 
 phy ; laughed to scorn the manner in which the 
 learned account for a great deal of what is called 
 natural phenomena ; could show you with half an 
 eye the man who was translated to the exalted 
 sphere of the moon for stealing a bush from his gos- 
 sip's fence, but totally denied the existence of any 
 other living being in that planet, and could descry 
 there none of the seas and mountains which all as- 
 tronomers so easily perceive. In short, he declared 
 it to be as dangerous to follow these lights of learn- 
 ing in their a-rial voyages of discovery, as to pursue 
 that misguiding traveller. Jack o' the Lantern, in 
 his devious excursion through the faithless mazes of 
 an Irish shaking bog. 
 
 Whether it was that my uncle perceived me the 
 inheritor of his own eccentric temper, or that he al- 
 ways found me the greedy devourer of all his tales 
 of wonder, certain it is, that I was his special favo- 
 rite, and he rarely took an excursion to any neigh- 
 boring wake, shebeen-house, or card-party, w ithout 
 securing my company. Indeed, 1 improved so much 
 under his auspices that, at fifteen, very few of 
 double my years could boast half my dexterity at 
 spinning a tough yarn, handling a pack of cards, or 
 throwing of a draught of poteen. But Truth, • my 
 fair mistress," obliges me to confess that I have for- 
 gotten a third of these accomplishments. Through 
 long disuse, I can now hardly distinguish a king 
 from a knave ; but the tales and legends of my be- 
 loved country still possess a charm for me, which 
 neither time nor misfortune can diminish. 
 
 One night in October, when returning home from 
 Darby M'AuliiTs wake, where my uncle amused a 
 numerous circle of gaping auditors by reciting the 
 wonderful adventures of ' Aodh beg an Uridan,' we 
 found ourselves on the border of a mountain stream, 
 which afforded an outlet to the waters of a deep 
 morass, that extended from a considerable distance 
 to its very edge, when that meteoric light, which 
 the learned denominate 'ignis fetuus," but which, in 
 vulgar parlance, is called -Jack o" the Lantern,' sud- 
 denly started before us. My uncle stopped, and 
 eyeing the irregular motions of the strange light that 
 gilded around us, said — 
 
 ' Well, my ould boy, I didn't think ye'd ever 
 
 again tempt mc to pursue yc j but, howsomevcr, as 
 I'm growing stiff in the limbs, we'll take the aisy 
 way of getting rid o' yer thrieks, Enmon, a vick O! 
 (meaning myself), mind your eye — off with your 
 coat, an' turn it inside out, or, as sure as your liv- 
 ing, the chap yonder will give us n cowld bath in 
 the nixt bog-hole.' 
 
 Then, suiting the action to the word, he deliber- 
 ately took off his coat and breeches, turned them 
 inside out, and slipped into them instanter, while I 
 could scarcely keep my feet, I was so convulsed 
 with laughter at the grotesque appearance pre- 
 sented by my uncle in this strange mode of equip- 
 ment. 
 
 ' Eamon, a vick,' resumed my uncle, upon see- 
 ing my extravagant contortions ; ' Eamon, is it yer 
 books that taehcs ye to laugh at yer uncle, mn 
 boochal ? 1 seen, in my own time, some eonceated 
 chaps o' yer kitney (kidney) turn their coats for a 
 worse reason than this.' 
 
 The sharpness ot the last remark showed that I 
 had greatly offended, and I endeavored to sooth his 
 irritation, by expressing deep contrition for my ill- 
 timed laughter tit, and by literally turning my coat, 
 leaving, however, the neither garment undisturbed ; 
 but my toilet was hardly completed when the wan- 
 dering light, after a few curves along the stream, 
 dashed into a small glen that opened into the brook, 
 and finally disappeared. 
 
 As we strode homeward, along the well-known 
 pathway, my uncle, now relieved from those fears 
 which the presence of the meteor had occasioned, 
 said — 
 
 ' Now wouldn't ye give yer uncle a speciment of 
 yer laming, and tell us what the books you read 
 say about Jack o' the Lantern.' 
 
 ' Why, uncle, the ' ignis fatus ' is only a harmless 
 light — a gaseous vapor arising from putrid vegeta- 
 ble bodies, which, ignited by the damps of the night, 
 wanders on in brightness till the inflamable air is 
 consumed.' 
 
 ' Eamon a hagur, your hard words have bothered 
 me entirely. Thim nateral phil — what do ye call 
 'em, have filled your head, a leagh, with nonsense. 
 Jack o' the Lantern a gas light — isn't it, asihore ? 
 Eamon, a chora, (and his tone grew tremulous with 
 feeling). Eamon, if you knew the sufferings of that 
 forsaken craythur, since the time the poor soul was 
 doomed to wandher, with a lanthern in his hand on 
 this cowld earth, without rest for his foot, or shelter 
 for his head, until the day of judgment — uUayone ! 
 oh, it 'ud soften the heart of stone, to see him as I 
 once did, the poor ould ' dunawn ' — his feet blis- 
 tered and bleeding, his poneens all flying about him, 
 and tho rains of heaven beating on his ould white 
 head.' 
 
 This burst of emotion would have given me real 
 delight could a reasonable motive be assigned for it; 
 but in his enthusiastic feeling for the fabled being of 
 his commisseration, I really concluded my uncle 
 was beside himself. 
 
 ' I was coming home one night,' he continued, 
 ' from a christening at Tim Fowler's — it was about 
 twelve at night — and I had not taken anything ex- 
 traordinary, but was just, as you may say, right 
 enough, whin up started the light before me, on the 
 very spot where we met to-night, and it was this 
 night twenty ycar8,of all nights in the year. I knew, 
 if I tried to get homeward, that treacherous lan- 
 thern would lead me through all the bogs and cor- 
 rahs of the place, for the night was plenty dark,and 
 the roar of the mountain streams, as they dashed 
 through the rocky beds, sounded deep and lonely. 
 ' Uedad,' sis I, ' ma boochal, I'll run no risks in 
 striving to avoid yc, but I'll hunt you down fairly, 
 for, you see, avick, if you .shun him, he'll follow ye, 
 but if you purshue him, he'll cut away. I jist slipt 
 off my brogues (by the same token, I never got 
 tidings of them since,) and dashes towards him in 
 my thraheens. Well became him, he ups and runs 
 
 for the bare life over hill and valley, cummer and 
 carigaun. T stuck to him like his shadow. Some- 
 time I came rattling down a .steep cliff ; thin, after 
 picking up my legs, ran headlong into a bog-hole. 
 Now I got stuck into a furze brake, and the mo- 
 ment after soused head and cars in a running 
 sthrame. At length, as I reached the bank of a 
 rapid river, I saw him, by the light of his own lan- 
 thern, hiding on the very edge of the water, under 
 shelter of a • sally ' bush. As I dashed like a grey- 
 hound towards him, through the loughans of the 
 inch, his eye seemed rivctted on me in wild terror ; 
 his face was frightful to look at, and his white beard 
 and whiter hair streamed in the rough blast that 
 swept down the glin along the river. The next 
 step would have brought me straight upon him ; 
 but, at that instant, the March cock upon a neigh- 
 boring roost gave notice of day — the lanthern wint 
 out, and the poor crathcr that carried it dissappeared, 
 and I was left in pitchy darkness.' 
 
 As we journeyed homeward, I introduced various 
 topics to put my companion's sainty to the test ; but he 
 displayed his usual acutcness upon every subject, save 
 that of the sprite whose lot the reader has heard him 
 so feelingly deplore. Upon this point, he was impreg- 
 nable to all argument, and I gave up the struggle, as- 
 tonished at this instance of mental delusion. Ne.xt day 
 he favored me with the history of Jack o' the Lantern, 
 which I wrote down at leisure while the facts were 
 fresh in my memory. I greatly regret that I did not 
 write the strange legend in my uncle's rich and imagi- 
 native dialect ; but the manuscript is now before me — 
 and even had I leisure and inclination to revise it, so 
 many years have since elapsed, that I could not recol- 
 lect my uncle's varied phraseology— so, reader, yon 
 have it as it is. 
 
 THE LEGEND. 
 
 Once upon a time there lived a man, whose natural 
 disposition was churlish and morose, and the asperi- 
 ties of whose soul had not been softened down by the 
 influence of a knowledge of God, and his acf|uiremenis 
 in the things of this world did not much exceed the 
 narrow skill which enahled him to cultivate the farm 
 on which he lived. He was known throughout the 
 country for his unsocial manners — his blazing hearth 
 never cheered the way-worn stranger, and the repulsed 
 beggar never again sought his inhospitable door. In 
 short, he lived the reproach of humanity, and his name 
 was a bye- word in the land. 
 
 Jack, for so his churl was named, was returning 
 home one night from a neighboring fair, when, as he 
 approached a dark ond rapid stream at a particular 
 ford, which the imagination of the people of that lime 
 had associated with some tales of murder and supersti- 
 tion, he heard a groan that, to his fancy, proceeded 
 from some tortured spirit. He suddenly drew in the 
 mare on which he rode — all the horrid talcs recorded of 
 that dark glen rushed to his memor) — and as a second 
 and third sound of agony smote his ear, his bristling 
 hair stood erect, the cold beads of dismay oozed at 
 every poor; nor did the whiskey which he quaflcd 
 that evening, in his own sordid way, prevent the cur- 
 rent of his blood from freezing at his very heart; but 
 when the horrid sounds were again repeated, he sum- 
 moned nerve suflioient to inquire what he could do for 
 the tortured soul that crossed his path in that glen of 
 gloom and honor. 
 
 'For the love of heaven,' said the voice ' take me to 
 some human habitation, for I am no tortured spirit, 
 hut a poor homeless wanderer who has lost my way 
 on the wild moor, and have laid down here to die, for 
 I durst not cross this rapid water. So may mercy be 
 shown you in your hour of need, and in the day of 
 tour distress.' 
 
 Delivered from supernatural terrors, the peasant's 
 soul softened into humanity. With an indescribable 
 feeling of pity, which never till that hour reached his 
 heart, he dismounted, and saw extended on the damp 
 earth a very aged man, with a white beard, who was 
 evidently borne down with the load of years snd mis- 
 ery. He wrapped the aged sufferer in his warm great 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 247 
 
 coat, placed him on tho saddle, and tlicn.raountinp; on 
 the crupper, supported the object of his pity till ho 
 reached homo. 
 
 Ilis wife smiled to behold her gruff husband engaged 
 in tho untisuiil oflico of hospitality, and wondered much 
 ■what charm could have soothed his unsocial soul to 
 kindness. The miserable stranger received every 
 necessary that her cupboard adordcd, was laid to rest 
 in a warm bed, and in a short time his grief and iii- 
 finnities were forgotten in sound repose. 
 
 About the dawn ot day. Jack was awakened from 
 his sleep by a bright blaze uf light that shone through 
 all the cabin. Unable to account for this sudden illu- 
 mination, he started to his feet from the bed, when his 
 progress was instantly checked, and his astonishment 
 greatly augmenitd to behold a young man of celestial 
 beauty wrapt in white garmenis. His shoulders \*ere 
 furnished with wings, the plumage of which exceeded 
 in whiteness the down of swans, and as he spoke, his 
 words stole like the notes of a heavenly harp to the 
 soul of the wondering cottager. 
 
 ' Mortal,' said the celestial visitant, 'I am one of the 
 angels commissioned to watch over the sons of Adam. 
 I heard thy brethren exclaim against thy unsocial 
 temper, and utter disregard of the sacred virtue of hos- 
 pitality ; but I find that some generous seeds of virtue 
 have lain uncultivated with thee. In me thou behold- 
 est the miserable senior whom thy generous humanity 
 relieved — I have shared thy frugal fare and lowly bed; 
 my blessing shall remain with thy house ; but to thy- 
 self in particular I bestow thiee wishes ; then freely 
 ask, as I shall freely give. May wisdom bound the de- 
 sire of thy soul.' 
 
 Jack paused for a moment.and then said, ' There's a 
 sycamore tree before the door, fair and wide-spreading, 
 but every passer-by must pluck a bough from it ; grant 
 that every one touching it with such intent, may cling 
 to the tree till I release him. Secondly, I do wish that 
 any person who sits in my elbo'v chair may never be 
 able to leave it, nor the chair to leave the ground, with- 
 out my consent. There's a wooden box on the wall ; 
 1 keep it to hold the thread, and awls, and hammer, 
 with which I mend my brogues, but the moment I turn 
 my back, every clown comes here cobbling for himself. 
 My third request is that the person who puts his hand 
 Into the box might not withdraw it, and that the box 
 may stick to the wall, duiing my pleasure. My wishes 
 are ended.' 
 
 The angel sighed as he granted the boon, and the 
 legend further adds that Jack was from that hour ex- 
 cluded from all hope of heaven, because he had eternal 
 happiness within his wish, and neglected to secure the 
 vast gift ; but the angel's blessing remained with his 
 house — his children were many, and his crops and cat- 
 tle throve with large increase. 
 
 In twenty years after, as Jack sat one evening in his 
 elbow chair, musing on his earthly affairs, a strange 
 and unearthly smell of brimstone assailed his nose,and 
 when he turned round to ascertain the cause, the ap- 
 pearance of a tall, dark-looking being, graced with a 
 pair of horns, a cloven foot, and a long tail, which he 
 carried rather genteely tucked under his arm, further 
 increased his astonishment. The stranger immediately 
 opened his message, mentioned Jack's exclusion from 
 heaven, and spoke of his infernal master's anxiety to 
 see him speedily at his own hot home. 
 
 When Jack heard these awful tidings, he repressed 
 every symptom of alarm, and, starting to his feet, bid 
 the stranger welcome. 
 
 ' 1 hope,' he continued, ' your honor won't be above 
 sitting in the elbow-chair, and tasting a drop of pot- 
 teen this cold evening, while I put on my Sunday 
 clothes.' 
 
 The demon complied. 
 
 'There,' said his host, ' is a real drop of the native. 
 The sorra a gauger ever set his ugly face on it. Why 
 then would your honor tell me if ye have any gangers 
 in your native place 1' 
 
 ' We have lots of them,' replied he of the cloven 
 hoof; but we give them other employment than still- 
 hunting; but come, the road is long, and we must 
 way.' 
 
 So saying, he motioned to leave his seat, but found 
 himself. immovably fixed ihcrcin.while the guileful rlior- 
 tal set his flail to work on the captive enemy. Vain 
 every entreaty for mercy — in vain ho kicked and llung 
 his arms around ; the swift descending enemy of ven- 
 geance smashed every bono in his skin, and it was only 
 when exhausted, and unable to prosecute his task, that 
 he consented to liberate the miserable being, on his 
 solemn oath, that be would never mora risitthis upper 
 world on a similar errand. 
 
 Satan has more than one courier to do his errands. 
 A second messenger, provided with the necessary in- 
 struction for shunning the fatal chair and flail, was 
 despatched to fetch the doomed mortal, who was rumi- 
 nating, next day, on the adventure of the preceding 
 evening, when the latch was raised, and a stranger 
 cautiously entered. 
 
 When he had explained his business, Jack requested 
 that he would be seated, and expressed his willingness 
 to depart when he had put a stitch or two in his old 
 brogue. The courier was too cautious, and declined 
 to sit ; but Jack took the chair, pulled off his broken 
 shoe, and requested the demon to hand him an awl 
 from the small box. 
 
 The infernal visitant obeyed, but found that he 
 could neither withdraw his hand, nor remove the box 
 from the wall. He cast a glance of dismay at his mor- 
 tal antagonist, who sprung to the flail, and bestowed 
 such discipline as forced the present visitor to submit 
 to the same conditions for his release that his brother 
 devil had done. 
 
 It is said that his sable majesty was greatly sur- 
 prised at the discomfiture of his two trusty messengers, 
 and, like a skillful general, he resolved to go in person 
 and explore the enemy's camp. He ascended from the 
 nether world through Mangerton mountain, near Kil- 
 larney, where that barren and bottomless pool, called 
 the Hole of Hell, now fills up the funnel which forms 
 his upward passage. He looked round from the lofty 
 height into the far country, and with the sagacity of 
 tho vulture in quest of his prey, directed his course to 
 Jack's habitation. 
 
 It was a sunny morning, and a heavy frost of some 
 day's continuance had congealed all the waters, and 
 rendered the surface of the land hard and slippery. 
 Aware of Jack's wiles, he rapped at the door, and, in 
 a voice of thunder, bid the miserable mortal come 
 forth. 
 
 ' I will go whithersoever your lordship commands 
 me,' he answered, awed by the threatening voice and 
 formidable manner of his summoner ; ' but tho road is 
 slippery, and you will permit me to fetch my cane ; 
 besides, I would wish to kiss my wife and little ones 
 before I go.' 
 
 The fiend was inexorable, and urged the wretched 
 being on before him. 
 
 ' If I walk without the support of a stick,' he resum- 
 ed, hobbling on before his captor, ' I shall speedily 
 break my bones, and if there are no carmen on the 
 road to hell, how would your lordship wish to fetch my 
 carcase on your princely shoulders '> Oh, that I had 
 even a bough from yonder sycamore to support my old 
 limbs !' 
 
 To stay this murmuring, and furnish the desired 
 support, Satan laid hold on a fair branch of the tree, 
 but immediately found that he was unable either to 
 break the bow or quit his hold, and Jack, with a yell 
 of joy, returned to fetch his favorite flail. In the words 
 of the legend, whoever would come Irom the remote 
 ends of the earth to hear the most fearful bowlings, oc- 
 casioned by the most dreadful castigation, would here 
 have cniple gratification. Jack broke his three best 
 flails on tho occasion, and though the miserable fiend 
 cried loudly for mercy, he continued his toil till the 
 going down of tho sun, when, on his promising neither 
 to seek Jack on earth, or permit his entrance into hell, 
 the arch-fiend was released, and the fortunate man re- 
 tired to rest, more fatigued from that day's thrashing 
 than ever he had been before. 
 
 Our story draws nears it close. Jack, with all his 
 skill, could not baffle the assault of Death. He paid 
 the debt of nature : but when his soul was dismissed 
 
 to its final residence, the porter at the gate of the in- 
 fernal regions stoutly denied him admittance — tho 
 fiends turned pale with affright — and oven Satan him- 
 self fled within the lowest depths to hide bis heud from 
 the dreaded enemy. Then, beeause he was unfit for 
 heaven, and hell refused to take him, he was decreed to 
 walk the earth with a lantern to light him on his night- 
 ly way till the day of judgment. Such, reader, is the 
 legend relative to Jack o' the Lantern, commonly be- 
 lieved by the peasantry in many districts of Ireland. 
 
 WHAT 18 HOME? 
 
 Timothy Titcomb, in one of his letters to young 
 married people, gives the true idea in tho following 
 extract : — 
 
 ' The French have no word into which the English 
 word home may be legitimately translated ; yet it is 
 suflaciently evident that many of the French people 
 have the thing without the name, while a large portion 
 of the American people have the name without tho 
 thing. There are comparatively few who have an ade- 
 quate idea of What home is, as an institution. It is 
 recognized as a house, containing a convenient number 
 of chairs and tables, with a sufficiency of chamber fur- 
 niture and eatables — a place to eat an sleep in, simply. 
 It is not unjust to say that half of the young married 
 people of America have no higher conception of home 
 than this. What they call their homes are simply 
 boarding houses, where, for purposes of economy and 
 convenience, they board themselves. 
 
 In my idea, home rises to the dignity of an institution 
 of life, and, like everything to be called an institution 
 of life, is both an outgrowth of life, and a contributor to 
 its development. Like all institutions, it has its exter- 
 nal form and internal power and significance. Like 
 the church, it has its edifice and appointments, not 
 only, but its membership, its bonds of spiritual fellow- 
 ship, and its germinal ideas, developing themselves into 
 influences that bear flowers and fruits to charm and 
 feed the soul. It is into the meaning of the word hom e 
 that I would introduce you first, my friends, and then 
 into home itself. Marriage is the legitimate basis of a 
 genuine home. A husband is its priest and a wife its 
 priestess ; and it is for you, your husband and young 
 wife, to establish this institution, maintain it, beautify 
 it in its outward form, fill it with all good influences, 
 develop its capacities, make it the expression of your 
 best ideas of intimate social life, and to use it as a ge- 
 nial power in moulding such outside life as may come 
 in contact with it. Its outward form and its internal 
 arrangements should so far as your means will permit, 
 be the outgrowth of your finest ideas, and the expres- 
 sion of your best tastes, combined with the practical 
 ingenuities which may be necessary by a wholesome 
 economy. 
 
 It is not the elm before the door of home that the 
 sailor pines for when tossing on the distant sea. It is 
 not the house that sheltered his childhood, the well 
 that gave him drink, nor the humble bed where he 
 used to lie and dream. These may be the objects that 
 come to his vision as he paces his lonely deck, but 
 the heart within him longs for the sweet influences 
 that came through all these things, or were associated 
 with them ; for the heart clings to tho institution which 
 developed it — to that beautiful tree of which it is the 
 fruit. Wherever by the rivers of Babylon, the heart 
 feels its loss and loneliness, it hangs its harps upon the 
 willows and weeps. It prefers home to its chief joy. 
 It will never forget it, for there swelled its first throb. 
 There were developed its first all'octions. There a 
 mother's eyes looked into it ; ilieic a mother's voice 
 spoke ; there a mother's prayers blest it. There the 
 lovo of parents and brothers and sisters gave it precious 
 entertainment. There bubbled up from unseen foun- 
 tains Ufe's everlasting hopes. There life took form, 
 and color, and consistence. From that centre went 
 out all its young ambition. Toward that focus returns 
 its concentrating memories. There it took form and 
 fitted itself to loving natures and pleasant natural 
 scenes ; and will carry that impress wherever it may 
 go, unless it become perverted by sin, or make to itself 
 another home, sanctified by a new and more precioos 
 affection. 
 
248 
 
 IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 HICHLANO DANCE. I 
 
 This pictnr* represenia a group ol Highlanders in 
 their pic'turcMic cotlume, dancing a fling to the music 
 of the bagpipes. The gay notional dresn, which is so 
 effective on a well-formed man, the plaid, kilt, splcu- 
 chan, and bonnet with a single feather, now survives 
 only in the costume of certain Highland societies, and, 
 much modified, in the nniform of certain British regi- 
 ments. The military Highland dress of the present 
 day is on infelicitoas modificatiim of the ' garb of old 
 Gael.' The cap worn by the officers is loaded with a 
 masa of black plumes instead of the single heron feath- 
 er which formerly distiognished a chieftain ora duinhe- 
 wassal. So the characters of the Higlilandcrs is changed 
 in many respects, though many striking characteristics 
 still distinguish the Gael. The modern Highlander is 
 Btill devotedly attached to his wild mi-ity hills and 
 lochs, his upland pastures and his purple heather, and 
 when faraway from his own blue mountains, in distant 
 military service, the strain of'Lochabcr no more,' will 
 bring tears into his eyes, ' albiei unused to the melting 
 mood.' Still, as of old, he is brave as his claymore. 
 In the bloody campaign of the Crimea, Sir Colin 
 Campbell's Highlanders more than redeemed the prom- 
 ise of their ancestral fame, and, far East the Scottish 
 claymores have shone in the forefront of battle. Only 
 the wild character of their native country could have 
 enabled the Highlanders to maintain their traditional 
 usages so near to the present time as they did. It 
 was only in the latter half of the last century that they 
 became peaceable subjects of the British Crown. 
 
 THE KINC OF SPAIN'S CIGARS. 
 
 In addition to other bad qualities, Ferdinand VII. 
 of Spain possessed extraordinary powers of dissimula- 
 tion, and it was observed that the persons towards 
 v?hom he happened to manifest attentions ot a more 
 familiar kind than usual was sure to be the party 
 whose ruin was determined on by ihe royal hypocrite. 
 Amongst these attentions, the one most frtquent was 
 the presentation of a cigar, out of the royal ' pataca ' 
 itself. This at last became so common that the at- 
 tendants could at once point out the person disgraced, 
 by seeing him come from the royal apartments with a 
 cigar in his hand. 
 
 It occurred one day that Castanos had an audience 
 of the king, which lasted some time. Ferdinand 
 chatted in his usual, easy, familiar, though not polish- 
 ed or dignified manner, with bis old general, and all 
 
 HIGHLAND MILITARY DANCE. 
 
 the while continued his favorite mode of passing his 
 time — smoking and drinking beer. 
 
 On Castanos taking leave, his majcBly offered him 
 half-a-dozen rich havanas from the case which was 
 upon the table. Castanos, far from accepting the sig- 
 nificant present, started back in dismay, and earnestly 
 entreated his majesty to excuse him ; he would rather 
 not smoke for the present. 
 
 'Well, then, put them in our pocket, ard smoke 
 them when yon get home.' 
 
 Thanks! thanks! a thousand times,' stammered 
 the affiighted duke ; ' I had rather not. Your majesty 
 will, 1 hope — but the truth is, I — I — had rather not 
 smoke. I have made a vow — a religious vow — against 
 smoking. Tray, your majesty, excuse me. Lord save 
 us ! ' he cried, as he saw the king approach him, and 
 put the cigars in his hands. 
 
 ' What, Castanos ! Surely you have not given np 
 smoking. See what thick smoke — what ashes of pearl, 
 of an inch long at the end ; and, oh ! what a rich 
 aroma ! ' his majesty exclaimed, as he showed, practi- 
 cally, the beauties of a thick light-brown regalia, that 
 drew water fjom the mouth of Castanos, even when he 
 resisted the temptation. 
 
 ' May it please your majcsiy, it is cxf|uisitc; hut my 
 lumbago — lieadache — pains in my knees — rheumatism 
 —palpitation of the heart— vows to St. Michael, im- 
 possible to break — cannot smoke, your majesty — can- 
 not smoke. Pray don't ask me. Will your majesty 
 permit me to retire 7 ' 
 
 ' Not until you take a cigar ; they are magnificent,' 
 said the king, pufHng away as if for a wager. 
 
 ' Oh ! your majesty, to tell your majesty frankly 
 and honestly the truth, I like a good cigar '—and this 
 avowal he made in an impassioned manner — ' but 1 
 have not the .slightest liking for the castle of Segovia, 
 or any state prison in your royal dominions ;' and he 
 clapped his hands behind his back, for fear of even 
 touching with his finger the dangerous cigars. 
 
 Ferdinand paused for a moment, as if searching in 
 his own mind the cau'ie for this answer. He soon 
 guessed it, and burst out into a most uukingly roar of 
 laughter at the dismay of his favorite and faithful 
 general. Castanos, seeing the turn matters had taken, 
 took a part in the royal caehinnation. 
 
 • Truly, Castanos,' said the king, after gulping down 
 a glass of beer to stop the hiccup his burst of merri- 
 ment had brought on; ' truly, child (Castanos was then 
 approaching seventy), this is too good. But never fear. 
 
 Castanos ; I pledge my word there is no canse for 
 suspicion. No, Castanos, you need not fear. Yon • 
 shall never be sent to Segovia, or anywhere else, in 
 the way you hint at. Others may have cause to tear, 
 but you have none. So, my good lad, take your 
 cigar, in heaven's name, and smoke at your ease.' 
 
 Castanos looked at his majesty between the eyes, to 
 see if he was only joking ; but, fancying that he could 
 detect in Ferdinand's face the marks of a sincerity 
 that could seldom he traced there, he took the cigar 
 from the royal hands, but still with the tips of his 
 fingers, as if he thought the glorious weed was so 
 much steel at a white heat. He then made his bow, 
 and left the royal presence. 
 
 It is pleasing to add that, although Ferdinand sent 
 to Castano's house that same evening, it was only to 
 present him with six thousand of these same regalias. 
 
 A RACE FOR LIFE. 
 
 Recently a large black dog of the mastiff species 
 jumped off the platform at Malahide, just before the 
 quarter to nine up train from Kells started, and 
 stood determinedly on the line. When the engine 
 began to roar he turned to it and barked indig- 
 nantly, but when it began to move along the dog 
 scampered on before it. The train mended its pace, 
 so did the dog, and it was a regular set-to between 
 them for upwards of a mile, the engineer putting on 
 steam and the dog putting forth more exertion. The 
 line is somewhat sinuous in the locality, and this 
 gave the dog the advantage; but, at the end of a 
 couple of miles, there was a long tract of straight- 
 way, and poor Carlo was getting the worst of it. 
 His tail drooped, and he was evidently beat up. 
 The engineer whistled and squirted out steam to 
 frighten him off, but on he went. At last he be- 
 came quite exhausted, and tumbled over the rails. 
 He -was safe from the train, but there he lay as if 
 dead. The travellers who watched him, however, 
 saw him, after some time, get up and skulk away in 
 a very slovenly manner. He ran before the train 
 fully two miles, and it would not be easy to soy 
 where there is a dog that did the same before 
 him. 
 
 A nisTiNGUisuED hydropathist propounds a new 
 medicine. This infallible remedy for melancholy is 
 made of 'fun and fresh air in equal proportions, and 
 to be taken with cold water three times a day.' 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 24» 
 
 IRISH MISCELLANY 
 
 THOMAS O NEILL 
 MICHAEL J. WALSH 
 
 BOSTON, SATDRDAY, NOVKMBER 27, 1858. 
 
 WAR WITH PARAGUAY. 
 
 That an expedition is now being fitted out to seek 
 redress for insult offered to our flag most of our renders 
 are aware. Of the causes for seeking that satisfaction 
 we believe our country is perfectly justified. It haa 
 been a principle with the United States never to give 
 an insult, and very slow in seeking redress when the 
 national honor has becii slighted, or indignities ofl^;red 
 us as a nation. This we, as citiz;ns, admire. Noth- 
 ing like being cool, knowing wo are riyht, then being 
 positive — not after the fashion of John Bull, because | beautiful 
 
 Kentucky in the United States. Situated in the in- I table is unlike nil the rest, so that the whole pre- 
 terior, shut in by natural bomidaricB, and surrounded scnts a museum worthy as much examination as any 
 
 we are strong, seeking, upon every trifle, to 'let slip the 
 dogs of war' to intimidate, to conquer. Yet there are 
 bounds where honor forbids us to be less than dignified 
 and positive in our demands for redress for wrong. 
 Such, we believe, was the war with Mexico ; and there 
 is with nations, as with individuals, a point where for- 
 bearance is by no means a virtue. If we understand 
 It rightly, our vessels, when on a scientific exploration, 
 and peacefully pursuing the orders of their government 
 in obtaining information, which was to benefit the 
 world, were insulted and fired into. That, when our 
 government sought redress or explanation, they receiv- 
 ed but menaces ; that, in duty bound for ihe national 
 respect and honor of its citizens, we should demand 
 proper satisfaction all admit, and that Paraguay is pre- 
 paring to resist our demands is likewise well known. 
 That all the circumstances should teach the adminis- 
 tration to send such an armament there as will speedi- 
 ly settle the diSiculties, reducing the overbearing ty- 
 rants to proper submission, and teaching the world 
 that one flag, a; least, never violates the honor of any 
 other, nor will be insulted with impunity. 
 
 Paraguay h as had its tj rants, however, and, like the 
 Chinese or Japanese policy, shut in its own people and 
 shut out the world from even communication ; a 
 country which, though peopled by white men and gov- 
 erned as a republic for nearly two hundred years, 
 yet remains a blank on the political map of America. 
 
 It is not very strange, then, to such as are at all fa- 
 miliar with the history and principles of the long ty- 
 ranical and arbitary non-intercourse rule of Para- 
 guayans, that foreigners who were never allowed to 
 enter the country, or ualives who were forbidden to 
 leave it, should know so little of each other. Why it 
 is that so many Irishmen have a secret and instinctive 
 attraction towards South American countries we can 
 scarcely deline Such, however, is the case, and we 
 do know, from actual experience, the people of those 
 countries have a leaning towards the sons of Ireland. 
 
 Who, that putting his hand upon his breast, and 
 when addressing Mexicans in their capi al, ' Me 
 Ireland aise,' have not been met with the exclamation, 
 ' Irelandaise !' ' See, Irelundaise, much a wano, much 
 a bravo, much a Christiano. Me cary much per 
 Irelandaise.' 
 
 AVhy it is, however, we cannot say ; perhaps a com- 
 bination of circumstances lead to the feeling — the cli- 
 mate ; there is a chivalry likewise in South American 
 character, as there is romance in the life led in the 
 Southern republics. 
 
 lleligion, too, has something to do with it. Every 
 South American knows that the people of Ireland luve, 
 through evil report and good, through peryecuiion and 
 tyranny, through pains and penalties, clung to the re- 
 ligion of their ancestors, and to the memory of their 
 saints. 
 
 But Paraguay is one of the most beautiful in climate, 
 productive in soil, magnificent in scenery, and richer in 
 internal resources and wealth than any country per- 
 haps on the globe. 
 
 Paraguay holds the same relative local position in 
 South America that Swiizerland does in Europe, or 
 
 by governments hostile to her very existence, with no 
 sea-coast, no shipping worlh noting, and no communi- 
 cation with the ocean save by river, which has, by re- 
 strictive laws, been closed against her. But, now her old 
 tyrants dead, we are astonished she has not cultivated 
 good feelings with the United States, and thus emerged 
 from the group of half civilized states by which she 
 is surrounded into commercial importnnce, nnd take 
 the position of leader in South America, that the 
 eharacter of her people warrants she should occupy. 
 
 At the present time Paraguay has about 000,000 in- 
 habitants, in an area of 150,000 square miles, or about 
 four to a mile, one third of whom are blacks or mixed 
 breeds of Spanish, African, and native Indian blood. 
 
 Lying as it does between the parallels of 20 and 27 
 
 deg. south, the climate of Paraguay is mild and always 
 
 Summer reigns perpetual within this 
 
 Southern-Eden land, and a summer, too, where the 
 scorching rays of an Equatorial sun are tempered to a 
 genial warmth, and the oppressive heat common to all 
 other tropical countries is never felt. 
 
 Paraguay, like Switzerland, has no interest in com- 
 mon with the countries by which she is surrounded, and 
 her people few of the characteristics belonging to either 
 Spaniards or Portageese, farther than that their lan- 
 guage is rather a patois made up of Buenos Ayrean, 
 Spanish and Brazilian Portugeese, than the pure Cas- 
 tilian of old Spain, and their architecture retains much 
 of the heavy Moorish style once so famous in Anda- 
 lusia, Granada, and Aragon. 
 
 As for the people themselves, they are a much finer 
 race than those of Bolivia, Brazil, or Buenos Ayres, 
 and the women, though dark featured generally, are 
 almost invariably beautiful and graceful in person, 
 which is more than can with truth be said of their 
 neighbors, the senoras of Brazil, or the Guacho ladies 
 of the Kio de la Plata. 
 
 We will say of the men that they are a fine, noble 
 race, presenting many qualities and characteristics of 
 manhood far superior to those exhibited by the men of 
 any other country in South America. The Paraguay- 
 ans are better soldiers, better mechanics, better farm- 
 ers, better friends and enemies, and a great deal bet- 
 Christians, than the Brazilians, Guachos or Bolivians, 
 by whom they are surrounded. 
 
 It has been to us a source for wonder that, when 
 emigration became necessary, the leading spirits of 
 the Celtic race did not advocate emigration thither as 
 we remarked ; however, the policy of the governments 
 were opposed to it till recently, when their attention 
 has been drawn to the subject by the position of the 
 United States, and the blessings accruing to this coun- 
 try by the labor, genius, and ability of the Irish peo- 
 ple. That a few worthies of our race made their mark 
 in the South is not remarkable. They have been felt 
 and known everywhere, and their loyalty and devo- 
 tion to adopted homes will be found as sacred as their 
 love ofnative land. ' In Spanish America, the Cap- 
 tains General, O'Higgins of Chili, O'Uonogu of Mex- 
 ico, and O'Donnell of Cuba, the Supreme Director 
 O'Higgins, the Generals O'Kiley, O'Brien, Deve- 
 reaux, the Colonels McKenna, O'Leary, 0'Conner,and 
 O'Carroll, were all men of one generation — all Irish- 
 men by birth or parentage. We will turn to South 
 America again.' 
 
 exhibition ever seen in the city. 
 
 At the table of St. Aloysin's chapel, the children 
 will find their old friend Santa Glaus, who is mak- 
 ing an early exploration among his clients in order 
 to find out who are worthy of his Christmas atten- 
 tions. Those who pay their respects to him, at the 
 Music Hall, he will be sure to remember when the 
 holidays come. 
 
 Let the children all remember that Santa Glaus is 
 out, that he knows all about the fair, and all about 
 them. He will not forget his friends ; but his ene- 
 mies, we are afraid, will not have a ' Merry Christ- 
 mas ' or a ' Happy New Year,' 
 
 Messrs. South worth & Hawes have prepared some 
 very interesting photographic groups of the Sisters 
 and orphans, and other parties, which will make a 
 valuable collection of pictures by these talented 
 artists. 
 
 We learn from the directors and managers that 
 the interest of the public in this matter se;ems to be 
 more manifest now than ever before, and we hope, 
 and expect, the result will equal the hopes and ex- 
 pectations of the most sanguine. 
 
 THE ORPHAN'S FAIR AGAIN. 
 
 In our last week's issue we called attention to the 
 fair which commenced at the Music Hall on Tues- 
 day last, and we wish now to say a word more on 
 the subject. 
 
 Our attention has been called to this matter by 
 our having seen many of the articles of curious 
 workmanship, furnished by the zealous managers 
 and contributors to this charity j and we can say, 
 in truth, that it richly deserves the most liberal pat- 
 ronage of our whole community. 
 
 Every table is crowded with articles of curiosity 
 Independent Tartary in Asia, Soudan in Africa, or ' and utility, and is a perfect curiosity shop. Each 
 
 THE PENN-ITE SPIRIT TRIUMPHANT. 
 
 The Hibernia Engine Company's Excdrsion. 
 — The arrangements for the excursion of the Hibernia 
 Engine Company, of Philadelphia, with their new 
 steam fire engine, to New York and Boston, are nearly 
 completed, and on Saturday the excursionists will 
 leave in the two o'clock train for New York. Col. 
 Page, President of the Company, has been untiring in 
 his efforts to have the members of the company in- 
 tending to participate properly drilled, so that in 
 marching they may present all the discipline of a 
 military company. There will be 100 equipped mem- 
 bers, 7 trustees and 17 composing the band, besides 
 three seriants, making in all 127. Previous to the 
 departure of the company, a handsome silk American 
 flag will be presented, iu front of the engine house, by 
 the ladies of the Fifth Ward. It is trimmed with gold 
 bullion and fringe, the staff being mounted with a gold 
 eagle. 
 
 We clip the above from the Boston Ledger, and 
 feel very glad to know that the Boston fire department 
 are preparing to give this patriotic company such a 
 reception as they deserve, lor surely if there is any- 
 thing in patriotism, they can boast of it in sincerity — 
 organized twenty-four years before the Declaration of 
 Independence, and composed of men who pledged 
 themselves to support a B.ink which had for its object 
 the sustaining of our national struggle for liberty. 
 
 The majority of the company are Irishmen, or the 
 sons of Irishmen, with such men as Col. Page, who is 
 a patriotic soldier of 1812. Dr. Jayne, High Sheriff 
 Magee, City Treasurer Wm. McGnith, John Thornly 
 the great India Rubber Manufacturer, the Prothonater 
 of the District Court, Jjhn P. McFadden, Major 
 Thorp, Col. C. M Berry, Col. Dclaney, and a num- 
 ber of the wealthiest citizens of Philadelphia. This 
 company can boast of wealth, two of tliem (Jayne and 
 SwainJ are millionuries, thirty or more are worth over 
 thirty thousand dollars ; but, like true republicans, 
 they can boast that neither religious nor political dif- 
 ferences entered their organization. They own their 
 engine, which is supposed to bo the best in the United 
 States. 
 
 We trust to date from the reception of the old Hi- 
 bernians the true spirit of Americanism in Boston. 
 We know our city to be right upon all great occasions; 
 that fanatics had her by the throat many years we 
 likewise know, but that she would redeem herself, we 
 had no doubt, and here we feel assured ot our hopes 
 being realised in burying the ill-feeling and the un- 
 American principles of hate against our brothers in 
 love and attachment to the Union. The Philadelphia 
 company, composed of men of all politics and religinos, 
 can show Boston the true source of the success of Wil- 
 liam Peen ; the obser^'ancc of others rights and strict 
 integrity in carrying out the great bonds by which we 
 arc united as a whole people under a free and noble 
 Constitution, and a peoples government. 
 
250 
 
 IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 THOMAS MOORE AT ST. ANNE'S'. 
 
 [From II forthcoini-.if,' volume entitled ' Cimadian 
 Ballads and Dicasionul Verses,' by Thomas D'arcy 
 McGec, Esq., member of the Provincial Parliament 
 for Montreal : — ] 
 
 On tlicsc swift wntera borne along 
 
 A pott from the fiirtlifr nhoro, 
 Framed as lie went liis solemn aong, 
 
 And set it by the boatman's oar. 
 II. 
 It was his t>oing's love to sing 
 
 To evening's close from earliest light; 
 Like Nature's chorister, his wing 
 
 And voice were only atill'd at night. 
 
 III. 
 
 Kor did all Nights bring him repose, 
 For by the moon's auspicious ray. 
 
 Like I'hilomena on her rose, 
 His songs surpQsse<l the songs of day. 
 
 IV. 
 He came a stronger summer bird. 
 
 And sniltly passed, but as lie (lew 
 Our rivers' glorious song lie heard; 
 
 His tongue was loos'd— he warbled too. 
 
 And mark the marvel ye wlio dream 
 
 To be the poets of the land, 
 He nowhere found a nobler theme 
 Thau you, ye I'avor'dl have at hand, 
 
 VI 
 Not in the storied summer isles, 
 
 Not mid the calm bright C'ycladcs, 
 Nor where the I'ersian sun god smiles, 
 
 Found he more htting themes than these. 
 
 VII. 
 So while our boat glides swift along. 
 
 Behold from shore there locketh forth 
 The tree that bears the fruit of song— 
 
 The laurel loves the hardy North. 
 
 •St. Anne's, at the junction of the Ottawa and St. Law- 
 rence; the .>pot is still pointed out where More is said to 
 have composed • The Canadian Boat Song,' during his tour 
 through Canada, in 18iJ4. 
 
 Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1?58, by 
 Thomas O'Neill, in the District Court of Massachusetts. 
 
 REMIXISCEXCES IX THE 
 
 LIFE IF h SILilEK, 
 
 — IN THE — 
 
 EXGLISH AXD AMEIilCAX SER-\aCES. 
 
 BY THOMAS O'NEILL. 
 
 dehicatcd to general james shields. 
 
 TUKEK BAKRELS OF BEEU BEATINCi A WHOLE 
 SliL'ADKON. 
 
 While on the line of march from Liverpool to 
 Burnley, in Lancashire, we were apprisedt^hat a se- 
 rious riot had broken out during an election, and 
 that matters had proceeded so fur that the lives of 
 the more peaceably disposed people were endanger- 
 ed. It was at the town of Clithero-, notorious through- 
 out the whole country for the turbulent character of 
 its inhabitants, principally butchers. It was the 
 roughest portion of a verj- rough district. 
 
 Our commandant did not feci justilicd in turn- 
 ing aside from our direct road, and, at the first ap- 
 plication, declined to act in the matter, except on 
 the requisition of some very responsible authority. 
 But the urgency of the case, as it was made to ap- 
 pear to him, would render any departure from or- 
 ders justifiable, and so we changed the course of our 
 route, and set ofi" at a brisk trot for the town of 
 ClithercD, which, after a warm ride, wo reached at 
 nightfall, and found great necessity existing for our 
 services. 
 The yeoman cavalry had been turned out to sup- 
 
 press the riot, but had been driven from the scene 
 of action, and beaten ignominiously, and were then 
 hiding themselves in every place of safety thcv could 
 find. 
 
 The militia in England are mostly cavalry, who 
 parade once a year — e.xccp tthrough such a necessity 
 as I am about to describe — or on great occasions of 
 national or rather royal shows and festivals, such as 
 a ' Coronation,' ' Queen's Birthday," &c. In case 
 of active duty being required, they are never called 
 out when the 'regulars' are within reach. The mob, 
 aware of their inelHcicncy, know very well that it 
 gives them enough to do to keep their saddle with- 
 out doing them any harm. 
 
 AVhen we arrived, the "butchers were in actual 
 possession of the town. They ivcrc mostly drunk, 
 and going about brandishing their bright steel 
 cleavers in any but a friendly or pacific manner. 
 Having driven away the yeomen, they had fired the 
 town in several places, and becoming maddened by 
 success, and the feeble opposition they had met 
 with, they began ;o believe themselves invincible 
 heroes. Such was the state of affairs on our ani- 
 val. Several houses were burning unchecked, while 
 drunken riot reigned supreme. The riot act was 
 immediately read, and the military ordered to do 
 their duty by dispersing the mob. This, however, 
 was not so easily done, for the rioters had some idea 
 of the advantages they possessed ; and having al- 
 ready completely routed the militia, they supposed 
 that they could as easily dispose of us. In this, 
 however, they found themselves mistaken, but not 
 until they had paid dearly for their knowledge, for 
 we had to charge repeatedly down upon them for 
 hours, and, finally, to shoot the boldest down be- 
 fore they were completely dispersed. They plied 
 their cleavers and knives upon us unsparingly ; but 
 at length we overcame and finally routed them, but 
 not without considerable loss on both sides — man)' 
 being severely cut and maimed. The fires were not 
 got under till morning. 
 
 There being no present indications of another 
 popular demonstration, we were ordered, about 
 noon the ne.xt day, to Whalley Abbey, one of those 
 old dismantled abbeys, which Henry VIII., of pious 
 habits and memory, confiscated for the glory of 
 God, and particular flencfit of himself and satel- 
 lites. 
 
 The town of AVhalley is about two miles from the 
 scene of the riots. The abbey is in the centre of the 
 town, and is surrounded by a high stone wall, be- 
 ing entered by an old stone gateway. 
 
 Here it was determined to place the troops, in or- 
 der to keep them together in case of further need. 
 Now, although the interior of the abbey had fallen 
 to decay, enough remained to show its ancient 
 beauty, dismantled and desecrated as it was ; both 
 time and vandalism having performed their dilapi- 
 dating work upon the sacred edifice. Still we found 
 no difficulty in making out all the accommodations 
 needed for a soldier. In front of the building, in- 
 side the wall, there was a beautiful grass plot, and 
 in the centre of which an old fashioned well of clear 
 cool water, where hung the ' old oaken bucket ' so 
 much sung of in modem times. 
 
 Here, indeed, was food for a meditative mind, in 
 contemplating the ruin and scene before us. What 
 varied ideas associated with the past nation were 
 they not calculated to portray to the imagination. 
 How many a scene of nightly wassail and pious 
 vigil have these old walls witnessed. There at that 
 gate was wont to be distributed the alms which 
 piet}-, or the dying remorse of many a lordly free- 
 
 booter, had left as a patrimony of the poo, alms 
 which were distributed with a blessing and a kindly 
 word in those dark days, ere the civilization of a 
 more modern age had dotted the land with union 
 bastiles, where the freezing relief of the ' poor law ' 
 is dispensed by cold and heartless officials. The 
 mind would insensibly bo led to review the times 
 
 and causes which led to the breaking up of the 
 conventual system. Religious reforms, especially 
 those, and history records them as the rule rather 
 than the exception, where the fagots, and the bayo- 
 net, and the rack were the principal arguments used, 
 speak to us, the latter-day saints, in tones of loud 
 upbraiding, reproaching us with our laxity of zeal 
 for the salvation of souls. Only to think of the 
 character and acts of Henry VIII., and then believe, 
 if we can, in the sincerity of his devotion to so holy 
 a cause as the reformation of religion. Again, look 
 at Cromwell, and later still, William of Orange, 
 and the sanguinary means which they used to carry 
 out the good work ; and again, look at Cortcz, and 
 other equally bloody-minded and ferocious heroes 
 of a similar stamp, and the impartial mind will in- 
 sensibly arrive at the conclusion that it v.as an in- 
 satiable and unworthy ambition which incited the 
 deeds and prompted the spirit of these so-called re- 
 formers, rather than the spirit of that divine Chris- 
 tianity which was libelled and blasphemed by the 
 acts of these self-appointed apostles. 
 
 Enjoying the blessings of education under the free 
 institutions of the present age, we can revert back 
 to the deeds done in past times, and, guided by the 
 light of history, judge of the characters and motives 
 of such men, and view them in a light far different 
 from that in which our fathers viewed them. We 
 can deplore that their evil influence has lived so 
 long in the traditions and memory of our race as, 
 even to this day, to keep Ireland a divided and fac- 
 tious province, when, but for this, and this alone, 
 she would long since have fulfilled the grand des- 
 tiny she is so eminently fitted otherwise to accom- 
 plish. 
 
 Soldiers, however, pay but little attention to such 
 ideas, or to the character of an old edifice, if it but 
 answer their immediate purpose, as in the present 
 case; nor, indeed, in general, do they study or care 
 much about the calender of saints itself. I have 
 digressed upon this topic farther than I intended, 
 and, with an apology to my kind reader, I return to 
 my story. 
 
 Burke, I believe it was, who said, ' There is but 
 one step from the sublime to the ridiculous ;' so, 
 from monastic institutions, Henry VIII., and the 
 Reformation, I return to show three barrels of beer 
 beat a whole squadron of British cavalry. 
 
 Soon after being turned in upon this lonely spot 
 we partook of a hasty meal of bread, cheese and ale; 
 we then began to select the softest spots on which 
 to repose for the night. A sentry was posted at the 
 gateway with stiict orders to allow none of the 
 troopers to pass out. We were not, however, de- 
 nied the privilege of purchasing from the towns- 
 people, who came to the gateway, such articles as 
 tobacco and other requisites not considered contra- 
 band. The object in placing us there, was to keep 
 us together, for the mob, although dispersed, were 
 by no means subdued, and might during the night 
 make another attempt at riot. Hence the necessity 
 for keeping us so closely shut up in the abbey. 
 
 I may as well here state, that we were solely un- 
 der the charge of non-commissioned officers, the 
 superior officers having remained at the hotel at 
 Clitheroe, knowing that should we be wanted dur- 
 ing the night, they at least would be on hand. 
 
 In spite, houever, of the vigilance of our sentry, 
 some of the townspeople found their way to the 
 grass plot, where we had bivouacked, having the 
 knowledge, I presume, of some back entrances. They 
 speedily informed our chaps that, if we could man- 
 age the rest of the offair, they would procure us a 
 plentiful supply of ale. Now, this was a piece of 
 news of the most agreeable importance to all of us, 
 and set the inventive faculties of the most knowing 
 amonst us speedily in action, devising means how 
 to get in that promised and much wished for bev- 
 erage. 
 The subject having been duly canvassed a smart 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 251 
 
 committee was appointed to bamboozle the sentry, 
 aid him in seeing double, or not seeing at all, or 
 otherwise, by a counter ruse, distract his attention, 
 and thus overcome his vigilance; in fact, by some or 
 any means, it was resolved that that ale must come 
 in, and when in, be disposed of as ale should be. It 
 was soon accomplished by some mysterious agency ; 
 a cask was rolled to the gateway, and in an equally 
 mysterious manner was rolled in and hidden. The 
 old oaken bucket was soon unhitched from its rusty 
 fastenings, and brought into active requisition. The 
 very careful ' non-coms ' began to feel themselves 
 slighted by being confined within the empty walls of 
 an old religious house. The soldiers could see no 
 possible necessity lor them to remain prisoners, 
 when every man was prompt and ready to perform 
 any and every duty assigned them. Each pailful 
 that went round added fresh causes to the mutiny, 
 until at length the non-comissioned officers, who 
 felt their dignity abused, resolved to visit the 
 ' Shoulder of Mutton ' public house, close by. The 
 sentry, who had either become partially blind, or 
 had argued himself into the belief that his orders did 
 not exclude barrels or casks; certain, however, two 
 more barrels were rolled in. The old temperance 
 pail was again in active service, and now the revel 
 reached the height of desperation — yea, as if it had 
 been a duty incumbent upon us, and, ere midnight, 
 there were few if any who were not lying side by 
 side with their chargers. Still there were some who 
 were not yet willing to give quarters to the old pail, 
 but seemed determined that nothing in the shape of 
 men or beer should conquer British Hussars. This 
 party, having further dismantled the old house, 
 made a fire and 'camped it,' singing some old regi- 
 mental songs, of which I havenow but a feint recol- 
 lection. One old trooper sang the especial favorite 
 of which I have preserved a fragment. It is called 
 the— 
 
 BATTLE OF SAHAGmf. 
 On the twenty-first of December, 
 
 As in quarters we lay, 
 Lord Taget came to us, 
 
 And thus he did say: — 
 
 ' Come saddle your horses, 
 
 For we must march soon, 
 
 As the Frenchmen are lying 
 
 In the town of tiahugun. 
 We saddled our horses, 
 And away we did go 
 Over rivers of ice 
 
 And mountains of snow. 
 For the towu of Sahaifun, 
 Our course we did steer, 
 Twas British Hussars, 
 My boys, never fear. 
 Now the French they turned out 
 
 From the town of Sahagun, 
 ■V\''ell armed and well mounted 
 Full twelve thousand strong, 
 "With our glittering broadswords, 
 
 Right at them we fled, 
 They went threes about, 
 And away soon they sped.' 
 In the midst of this song, the singer was stopped 
 to relate how, at the battle of Sahagun, he had re- 
 ceived a cut ' si.x ' from a Frenchman, a cut which 
 disfigued him for life, having taken effect under bis 
 nose, separating the upper lip and one cheek, leav- 
 ing an ugly seam. I have an indistinct remembrance 
 of Hardy relating this circumstance, and then still 
 more indistinctively these words — 
 ' The sons of France, 
 We nindc them dance 
 That day at Waterloo — ' 
 and then I must have dozed until a confounded 
 noise and bustle, with the ineffectual efforts of the 
 trumpeter to blow something, or anything, partially 
 aroused me ; but it seem.cd as if it was ordained 
 that everything should go wrong, for the poor fel- 
 low could not get the right end of the trumpet to 
 his mouth. To some, it appeared that we were 
 wanted, but to any one who had the use of their 
 senses, it was apparent that we should be more 
 wanted before we could get ready. 
 
 I need scarcely add that the beer had been sup- i 
 plied by the rioters or their friends. It proved a 
 successful piece of generalship on their part, for, af- 
 ter sundry ridiculous attempts to saddle, we had to 
 ive it up, and we were left to the enjoyment of an 
 undisturbed if not glorious repose. The rioters 
 burned and sacked without interruption until morn- 
 ing, when we were visited by our officers who pulled 
 very long faces, but little was said. We mounted, 
 and in the course of the forenoon reached Clitheroc, 
 where everything had become comparatively quiet. 
 We remained here for a day or two, but never heard 
 anything of our bowing at old shrines in the abbey 
 of AVhalley. The fact was that, while we were 
 revelling in the old ruins, our officers were at simi- 
 lar work at the hotel, and, therefore, the less said 
 about it the better for all concerned. 
 
 Before we left we had many a laugh at the adroit 
 manner in which the rioters at Clitheroc had beaten 
 us with three barrels of beer, and it became a pass- 
 word afterwards in the regiment. ' Kemember the 
 butchers at Clitheroe.' 
 
 THE HISTORICAL AND POLITICAL CONNEX- 
 ION OF SCOTLAND WITH IRELAND. 
 
 [Substance of a late lecture delivered in Montreal by 
 Thomas D'arcy McGee, M. P. P. for that city] 
 
 Now-a-days, if we speak of Scotsmen, we have no 
 confusion of ideas as to the country of which he is a 
 native; it was, however, very different formerly. A 
 tew centuries ago, whoever, in the universities or ex- 
 changes of Europe — at Oxford, or Paris, or Antwerp, 
 or Venice, or Rome — mentioned a Scot, invariably 
 added, as a distinction, 'of Ireland' or ' of Caledonia.' 
 It is not necessary to quote the long array of ancient 
 authors who so speak of the people of both countries ; 
 but a very few — and those of most familiar note — may 
 be mentioned. St. Prosper, of Aquitaine, a chronicler 
 of the 5th centary, speaks of Palladius preaching to 
 the Scots of both countries ; the venerable Bede, in the 
 8th century, speaks habitually of Hibernia as ' the 
 island of the Scots,' and ' the fatherland of the Scoti ' ; 
 Eginhard, the secretary and biographer, the Bour- 
 rienne of Charlemagne, writing in the 9ih century, 
 denominates Ireland ' Hibernia, Scotorum insula.' 
 These authorities, French and English, will suffice for 
 the notoriety of the fact abroad — that Iieland was 
 known abroad as Scotia, at least from the 5th to the 
 9th century. Of Irish authorities on this point, I shall 
 cite none, and of modern Scots but one — the learned 
 George Buchanan, the preceptor of James I, of Eng- 
 land and Ireland, and VI. of Scotland. ' All the in- 
 habitants of Hibernia,' says Buchanan, ' were original- 
 ly called Scoti, as Orosius points out ; and our own 
 annals tell us that there was more than one migration 
 of the Scots from Hibernia into Albania.' And every 
 recent research has gone to confirm the fact that it was 
 not till the llth century that Eri ceased to be called 
 Scotia, or that Alba came into exclusive possession of 
 that name. Occasionally, in poetical and other com- 
 positions, the old title was applied to the mother 
 country, as we still hear England called Albion, and 
 as America is sometimes poetically spoken of as Co- 
 lumbia. 
 
 The word Scotia is itself the name of a woman ; 
 some Gaelic scholars derived it from Scytlia, a Scythian 
 woman ; others from Scoth, a flower or blossom, a 
 name like Rosa and Flora and Laura, naturally sug- 
 gestive of female beauty. All agree that this generic 
 title of our race is derived from some first mother of 
 the tribe, some hero's helpmate, who braved with him 
 the perils of migration and of war, whose dusky east- 
 ern brow shines for us out of the dim traditions, and 
 through the foliage of deep-wooded Innisfail, 'rich 
 with barbaric pearl and golil.' The profound rever- 
 eneo of the Celtic tribes for their women is attested by 
 all the Roman writers. In Gaul they neither made 
 peace nor without consulting them, and in Britain the 
 veterans of Caractacus did not refuse their homage to 
 
 Boadicen. In this respect the Celts followed the ex- 
 ample of Asia, rather than of Rome ; they, too, had 
 their Cleopatras, Berenices and Zcnobias, whom pos- 
 terity might have equally admired had they been 
 equally fortunate in their historians. 
 
 As the name Scotia is feminine, so that of Gael 
 (Gaedhal) is masculine, llis genealogy, like that of 
 the lady, is the subject of much debate among the an- 
 tiquaries ; but all are agreed that from this ancestor 
 the language of the Scots takes its name. In this res- 
 pect, that race differed in their first customs from the 
 Saxons and other northern nations, who still speak of 
 their language as mother-tongue, and their country as 
 father-land. Originally, these terms had an accurate 
 sense ; conquerors, intermarrying with the daughters of 
 the vanquished, transmitted the land won by the sword to 
 descendants nursed and bred in the speech of their 
 mothers. With the Scotic family their speech is iho 
 speech of the father, their land bears the name of the 
 mother of the race — a singular contrast, and full of 
 matter for reflection. 
 
 Of some of the migrations of which Buchanan 
 speaks, from Hibernia into Albania, we have no very 
 precise records. No passages in human history have 
 been less carefully kept than the records of emigration. 
 The movements of rude masses of men, the first foun- 
 dations of states and cities, are generally lost in ob- 
 scurity, or misrepresented by patriotic ingenuity. The 
 successive settlements of the Scots in Caledonia can 
 be faintly traced from the middle of the 3d century 
 till the beginning of the 6th. About the year 503, they 
 had succeeded in establishing a principahty among the 
 cliffs and rocks of Argyle. The limits of thtir first 
 territory cannot now be accurately traced ; but it 
 seems certain it spread north into Ilosshire, and east 
 into the present county of Perth. It was a land of 
 stormy friths and fessured headlands, of deep defile, 
 and snowy summits. ' 'Tis a far cry to Loughe Awe,' 
 is still a lowland proverb, and Lough Awe was in the 
 heart of that old Scotic colony. By the middle of the 
 9th century (A. D. 843J, Kenneth, the eleventh in des- 
 cent from Fergus the founder of the Argyle settlement, 
 became king of all Caledonia, if we except the coast of 
 Caithness occupied by Norwegians. His dynasty was 
 extinguished in the male branch with Alexander III., 
 in 1286 ; but through the Bruces and Stuarts, and 
 from the latter to the present sovereign of Great 
 Britain, the collateral issue may be traced, devious and 
 adulterated in its descent, but unbroken even till our 
 own d.-iy. 
 
 In the extension of their political power, the Scots 
 advanced by slow degrees southward. Kenneth re- 
 moved ' the seat of government ' — if I may use such 
 an expression in this ease — from Inverlochy to Aber- 
 nethy ; Malcolm Ceanmore, two centuries later, brought 
 it still furtlier southward to Dumferline; in the reiga 
 '■ of Alexander III., Edinburg began to be looked upon 
 as the permanent capital. The old coronation chair 
 of the Argjle chiefs was in like manner transferred 
 from Dunstaffnage to Scone (near Perth), and beneath 
 it lay ' the stone of destiny,' on the preservation of 
 which depended, according to Milesian behet, the con- 
 I tinuanee of the Scotic line. If we are to credit a re- 
 cent learned wiiter — Dr. Petrie — this was but a sup- 
 positious stone, the original still remaining unnoticed 
 and unknown on the grass grown mound of Tara; 
 while its high placed counterfeit is now exhibited to 
 visitors in Edward the Confessor's chapel, in West- 
 minster Abbey. True or false, upon this corner-stone 
 of Scottish loyalty the McAlpin line, the Bruces and 
 the Stuarts, were crowned, and the tradition that con- 
 nects them with it, connects them also with the pater- 
 nal isle from whicli it was obtained, to add an addi- 
 tional solemnity to tlie coronation of their first kings. 
 
 It is hardly necessary to observe here that the Ar- 
 gyle Scots were not, in those early ages, the only in- 
 habitants of Caledonia. There were at least three 
 other groups of men — the Picts of the German Ocean 
 and the Lothians, a German tribe ; the Britons of 
 Strathclyde, expelled by their Saxon conquerors, 
 a Welsh tribe ; and the Norwegians of Caithness, 
 Sunderland, and the Orkneys. These three races 
 
252 
 
 IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 tAkon tORcllier, no iloulit, Inrgcly outnumbered*, even 
 in thcrcijrn of Muliolm Ccanmorc, the (loscondnnt.s of 
 the ScoU'- Irish. Yet the religion, the laws, and the 
 nationality, and the sovereignty of Scotland, were all 
 estutilished liy the children of the si'tilers of Argyle. 
 They were the aggressive and prevailing race from the 
 6th to the 13th century, and if the Saxon element has 
 been since steadily gaining in the lowlands and the 
 cities — if the Anglo-Norman nobility, introduced by 
 James I , have begun to outnumber the titled bends of 
 great clans — still, in peace and in war, in action and 
 in acquirement, the otVspring of the Gael need not, 
 even in the 19th century, vail their bonnets before any 
 proud southerns plume. That they gave Scotland 
 her style, her crown, her native kings, and the religion 
 ID which she worshipped for a thousand years, is proof 
 enough that they were not inferior in energy or in civi- 
 lization to the men of Germany, of Briton, or of the 
 North, with whom they were brought in contact in 
 those ages, and over whom, peaceably or forcibly, 
 they, in the lapse of lime, extended their dominion. 
 
 What we have said of the Scots in Caledonia may 
 also be said, witb some difference, of their kindred in 
 Ireland. They were not the sole, nor were they the 
 earliest, inhabitants. The Belu;e were before them — 
 were toe people before the arrival of the Milesian set- 
 tlers. Of those still earlier pioneers, the ' Tuatha do 
 Danans,' we can get no certain sight. They move 
 about in the distance and the darkness, huge and un- 
 certain figures, perlorraing all sorts of wonderful 
 things. Such men there were no doubt, with princes, 
 warriors, a society, and a culture, above barbarism. 
 But they, as well as the Belg;c, had to succumb to the 
 comiuering Gael, called by our best writers ' Scoto- 
 Wilesians.' One desperate revolt the vanquished 
 made in the first Christian century, cutting off their 
 oppressors by a well-planned conspiracy ; but it was of 
 no avail. After revolution had followed restoration, 
 and Tuathal ' the acceptable ' returned from honorable 
 duress in Agricola's tent, to re-establish the legitimate 
 dynasty on the throne of Tara. From thenceforth till 
 the Plantagenets came, the sceptre of Eri did not pass 
 from the hands of the Scotic line. During all the 
 long centuries, while the Argle colony was growing 
 into the Scottish monarchy, the parent island remained 
 the populous home of the race, cherishing for their 
 kinsmen in Alba an affection strengthened by by all 
 the ties of common creed, common speech, a common 
 literature, a common ancestry. 
 
 The great unionist between the seperate but kindred 
 populations — the man who, in his own person, best 
 presents the religious, the political and the intellectual 
 identity of the two nations — is St. Columbcille, the 
 Apostle of the Picts, and the founder of lona. He 
 was not at the planting of the Argyle colony, nor 
 is his name the first name invoked in the old Scottish 
 liturgy. St. Kieran, ihe ruins of whose churches still, 
 or lately did, exist in Campbelltown and other parts of 
 Argyle, was the patron of the pioneers ; but Columb- 
 cille was the finisher of the work. Born in the Province, 
 from which most of the emigrants had gone out, nearly 
 allied by blood to the house of Fergus, it is not won- 
 derful that bis natural affections should have suggested 
 the missionary field. And nature had well fitted 
 bim to the great task of adding another realm to tbe 
 empire of Christendom. His princely birth gave him 
 power over his own proud kindred ; his golden elo- 
 quence and glowing verse — the fragments of which 
 still move and delight the Gaelic scholar — gave him 
 fame and weight in the Christian schools which had 
 suddenly sprung up in every glen and island. As 
 prince, he stood on equal terms with princes; as poet, 
 he was afliliaied to that all-powerful Bardic order, be- 
 fore whose awful anger kings trembled and warriors 
 succnmbed in superstitious dread. A spotless soul, a 
 disciplined body, an indomitable energy, an industry 
 that never wearied, a courage that never blanched, a 
 
 •Pinkerton surmises the original colony to have been 40 to 
 50,000 strong, but on what ground lie does not state. I can- 
 not forbear expressing some surprise at the importance at- 
 tached to some of the dicta ol tbis passionate and partial 
 debater of historic doubts, rather than writers of liistory. 
 
 sweetness and courtesy that won all hearts, a tender- 
 ness for others that contrasted wonderfully with his 
 rigor towards himself, these were some of the qualities 
 which adorned the character of this eminent mission- 
 ary. 
 
 According to Bedc, Columba arrived in Caledonia 
 in the year 605. He was then in the prime of his 
 life — his -lull year. Twelve companion.s, the apos- 
 tolic number, accompanied him out of Ireland. For 
 thirty-four years he -was the legislator and captain 
 of Christianity in those northern regions. The King 
 of the Picts received baptism at his hands ; the 
 Kings of the Scottish colony, his kinsmen, received 
 the crown from him on their accession. The islet of 
 1., or lona, ever afterwards so famous, was present- 
 ed to him by one of these princes. Here he founded 
 his parent-house, and from the Uebridean rock, he 
 shaped the destinies, spiritual and temporal, of 
 many tribes and kingdoms. 
 
 Formed by his teaching and example, there went 
 out from lona apostles to Iceland, to the Orkneys, 
 to Northumbria, to Man, and to South Britain. A 
 hundred monasteries in Ireland looked to that ex- 
 iled saint as their patriarch. Twenty British or 
 Scottish bi.shops accompanied him from lona to the 
 assembly at Dromketh. His rule of life, adopted 
 from the far East, from the recluses of the Thebuid 
 andof Palestina, was sought for by chiefs, Bards,and 
 converted Druids. Clients, seeking direction from 
 his wisdom, or protection through his power, were 
 constantly arriving and departing from his sacred 
 isle. His days were give to labor, his nights to 
 study and the transcribing of the scriptures. Death 
 found him at the ripe age of almost four score, ' sty- 
 lus ' in hand, toiling cheerfully over vellum page. 
 It was the last day of the week when the presenti- 
 ment of his end came strongly upon him. 
 
 'This day,' he said, to his disciple Diermitius, 
 ' is called the day of rest, and such it will be for 
 rae, for it will finish ray labors.' Laying down the 
 manuscript, he added, ' let Baithen finish the rest.' 
 Just after Alatius, on tho Sunday morning, he peace- 
 fully passed away from the scene of his extraordi- 
 nary labors. 
 
 Of his gentleness, as well as energy of character, 
 tradition and his biographers have recorded many 
 instances. Among them I may recall his habit of 
 ascending an eminence every evening at sunset, to 
 look over towards the coast of his native land. The 
 spot is called by the islanders to this day, ' the 
 place of the back turned upon Ireland." The fish- 
 ermen of the Hebrides long believed they could see 
 their saint flitting over the scene after every fresh 
 storm, counting the islands to see if any of them 
 had foundered. 
 There is a beautiful legend of his finding a quail flut- 
 tering upon the strand with broken pinions, having 
 been blown across from the Ulster shore by a wes- 
 tern wind ; of his nursing the poor bird until it had 
 recovered, and then letting it loose, ' that it 
 might fly back again to its own country.' Such are 
 the relations which fond tradition, in no irreverent 
 spirit, has carefully preserved of that great saint, 
 and his must have been a loving and a lovely char- 
 acter of which such tender tales could be told, and 
 such beautiful fiction could be universally be- 
 lieved. 
 
 As a statesman, he carried for our ancestors three 
 great measures, of the last of which we are not, even 
 at this moment, beyond the reach. He obtained the 
 peaceful recognition by Ireland of the independence 
 of her colony in Scotland, at the famous convention 
 at Dromketh ; he elTected the reformation of the 
 Bardic order, and he established the first western 
 monastic institute. Of the two Tormer, as political 
 and social events of the first importance in Gaelic 
 life, I shall speak a little nior« in detail. 
 (Concluded it o,ii next.) 
 
 A WOMAN is like tar — only melt her and she will 
 take any form you please. 
 
 AMERICAN NEWS. 
 The Modern Hehcvleb. — It is said that Senator 
 Douglas has addressed his constituents in 57 counties. 
 He met Mr. Lincoln in debate once in each Con- 
 gressional district ; m«de 59 set speeches of from two 
 to three hours in length ; 17 speeches of from twenty 
 minutes to forty-five minutes in length, in response to 
 the compliment of serenades ; and 37 speeches of about 
 equal length, in reply to addresses of welcome. Of 
 these 120 speeches, all but two were made in the open 
 air, and seven speeches were made or continued during 
 heavy rain. To do this Mr. Douglas crossed, from 
 end to end, every railroad line in the State excepting 
 three, besides making long journeys by means of horse 
 conveyance and steamboats, the road trod amount- 
 ing to 5227 miles. By boat he made almost the entire 
 western side of tho State, i\nd all that portion of the 
 Illinois river which is navigable by steamboats. 
 
 The Paeaouav Expedition. — The Washington 
 correspondent of the N. Y. Times says that ' it seems 
 to be the settled conviction of the President and his 
 Cabinet that our Paraguay expedition will be defeated 
 should President Lopez determine to fight. This it is 
 believed will result from the great diflieulty of reach- 
 ing his capital. In the language of a member of the 
 Cabinet, the expedition is about as chimerical as would 
 be an expedition up the Mississippi and Oliio rivers 
 against the State of Ohio. In order that Lopez may 
 not have an opportunity of complaining of the presence 
 of the fleet, the vessels will come to anchor in the 
 river outside of the territorial limits, and there 
 await the result of Commissioner BowUn's negotia- 
 tions ' 
 
 Steam Carhiaoe foe the Road. — Col. R. M. 
 Hoe, we sec it announced, is about to construct a car- 
 riage to travel over any turnpike or good country road, 
 and to be propelled by steam. It is intended for him- 
 self, to ride out and in between his place of business 
 and his country seat, about twelve miles from the city 
 of New Y'ork. It is expected that the carriage and 
 propelling power will not cost more than a good pair 
 of horses and coach, and travel over a fair road at the 
 rate of two-thirty per mile. 
 
 Nkw Invention. — A person at Niagara Falls has 
 succeeded in an invention which he announces to be 
 an ' electrical cannon.' It produces sixty discharges m 
 a minute without becoming heated. A patent has been 
 procured, and the proprietor intends shortly to exhibit 
 its power and facility in this city, and then proceed to 
 the War Office at Washington to astonish the Presi- 
 dent, Secretary of War, and all the practical subordi- 
 nates of its superiority over alloiher missiles of des- 
 truction. 
 
 The New York Post Office Site.— TheSNew 
 York correspondent of the Philadelphia Ledger writes 
 that there is talk of the Astor House as the most eligi- 
 ble site for a Post-office, and strong representations 
 will prol)ably be made to Postmaster General Brown 
 to close it with an ofler, which, it is understood, the 
 proprietors are ready to make, to sellout. 
 
 Libel SriT.— Senior Antonio Jose do Yrissari, 
 one of the Ministers from the Republic of Nicaragua to 
 the government of the United States, has sued the pro- 
 prietors of the N. Y. Times for libel, laj ing the dama- 
 ges to his character at the sum of $25,000. 
 
 The Western Reserve Chronicle adds a new item 
 to the history of George Pcabody, the liberal American 
 banker. It says—' Thirty-two years ago the above 
 millionaire was sawing wood for his board in New 
 Haven, Ct.' 
 
 The latest intelligence from South America states 
 that the U. S. frigate St. Lawrence was at Rio Janeiro 
 and the U. S. sloopofwar Plymouth, at Montevi- 
 deo. 
 
 The Paraguayans were staking the lower part of their 
 river, to prevent the ingress of the American squadron. 
 The shores of Paraguay were well fortified, and it is 
 added, tho Americans would me«t a very warm rccep 
 tion. 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 253 
 
 FOREIGN INTELLIGENCE. 
 
 IRELAND. 
 
 Cannonading in Qdeenstotvn. — The Cork Ex- 
 aminer says: — Considerable sensation was created 
 in Quecnstown on Monday night by the loud 
 booming of cannon in the harbor. The lateness of 
 the hour and the strictness with which the Sabbath 
 is observed on board English men-of-war prevented 
 the idea being entertained that it was the mariners 
 who were being brought through the gun exercise. 
 In a short time the streets were crowded by the in- 
 habitants of Queenstown, by naval officers, &c., 
 and conjecture was rife as to cause of the cannon- 
 ading. Some thought that a ship was on fire, 
 others that a strange man-of-war might be entering 
 the harbor, and a few of the more imaginative and 
 impulsive were of opinion that it was a foreign in- 
 vasion. Crowds of people came rushing down 
 from the neighborhood of Spy Hill, shouting out, 
 'The French are come, the French are come,' and 
 the greatest excitement, in consequence, prevailed ; 
 many perple were terrified to an extreme degree, 
 and in a few instances ladies fainted. After some- 
 time, however, the discharges were seen to come 
 from her Majesty's ship Hawke, and some boats, 
 containing naval officers^ put off immediately to 
 that vessel. The firing soon after ceased. The 
 cause of such unusual activity on board the Hawke 
 has been kept to the present a mystery from 
 the public, but we have learned that it was a post- 
 prandial entertainment given in the abscence of the 
 captain and other seniors, by the junior officer of 
 the ship to some friends of his who were on board. 
 The visitors, it appears, being mere landsmen, ex- 
 pressed an anxiety to see the marines put through 
 the gun exercise, and the officer, wishing to afford 
 his guests every enjoyment, ordered the drums to 
 beat the men to quarters. His directions were 
 complied with — the marines were aroused from 
 their hammocks, and, in obedience to the command 
 of their superior, blazed away at the guns for fully 
 half an hour. They went at it with such a right 
 good will that one of the boats was blown away 
 from the davits. This morning, it is stated, the 
 officer in question was placed under arrest, and a 
 court martial will be held on him to-morrow. The 
 Hawke will leave for Bantry to-morrow. 
 
 The Rev. Mr. Nixon, whose severity as a land- 
 lord appears to have incited the criminal and daring 
 attempt on his life in Donegal, had for his first wife 
 a lady from this county named Keating, who was 
 originally of the Catholic persuasion, and whose 
 forefathers had, with great difficulty, saved their 
 possessions from the hungry and foul grasp of the 
 infamous penal laws. By placing the property in 
 the trusteeship of honorable Protestants it was pre- 
 served. Miss Keating had a dowry of £10,000, and 
 she met her husband in Dublin, where he was then 
 residing in temporal circumstances so narrow that 
 he was unable, as stated, to afford advancing be- 
 yond the degree of deacon. He officiated subse- 
 quently for a few years in the King's County. He 
 is married a second time ; and is a man of large 
 size, about fifty years of age, conditions that may 
 assist his recovery from the wounds he received. 
 K was with his first wife's fortune he purcliased the 
 property in Donegal, in connection with which he 
 has evinced those traits of severity, in word and 
 deed, to the people, which has gone near costing 
 him his life — if indeed he is not already the victim. 
 These particulars have been related to us by a 
 Limerick gentleman who has had the Hev. Mr. 
 
 Nixon's personal acquaintance [Munster News. 
 
 The Rev. Peter Daly, P. P., in a letter addressed to 
 the Galway Vindicator, gives an extract from a com- 
 munication rec«iveil from the Secretary of the Midland 
 Great Western Railway, in which it is stated that Mr. 
 Carbry, the efficient chief engineer of the Company, 
 ' has instructions to proceed with the construction of 
 the railway to the docks.' 
 
 Galwat and Livekpool.— The Liverpool press, 
 naturally enough In the interests of the Liverpool mer- 
 cantile interest, are decrying the Lever line of packets. 
 We have been favored with some of their observa- 
 tions and calculations, but must candidly say that they 
 are not sufficient to prevent us supporting the Galway 
 route A favorite objection of the English writers is, 
 that tbo Lever line is much inferior to the Canard 
 steamers. If this bo so and wo are quite ready to 
 grant— It shows, not that Galway should not be a 
 trans-Atlantic station, but that a better class of vessels 
 than have sailed yet should be obtained by Mr. Lever 
 and his friends. Galway is only 2,7.31 miles from 
 New York, Liverpool is 3,020 miles, so that if steam- 
 ers of equal power start from each port, Galway must 
 be entitled to precedence. Another advantage of 
 sailing from Galway is, that the dangers of the chan- 
 nels are avoided. It is said that the harbor of Gal- 
 way is unfitted for a packet station by reason of rocks 
 and the want of a breakwater. The promoters of the 
 Lever line admit that Galway bay needs to be impro- 
 ved, and they have called on government for a loan 
 for that purpose. Of course their application is treat- 
 ed by many In England as another evidence of the 
 disposition of the Irish to depend on governments, 
 instead of helping themselves. But it may be urged 
 in return that large suras of public money have been 
 spent in the improvement of English harbors, and 
 the old adage has it that ' what is sauce for the goose 
 is sauce for the gander.' Other Irish ports are under- 
 stood to be competing with Galwav for a line of ocean 
 steamers ; it is hoped, however, that ihey will waive 
 their claims, and allow the experiment in favor of 
 Galway to be fairly tried.— [Wexford People. 
 
 TuE FoTNEs Packet Station. — The men of Lim- 
 erick no sooner heard of the success of the packet 
 station at Galway than, like good fellows, they set 
 about creating another for themselves at the mouth of 
 the Shannon. This is exactly what boys do when they 
 are fishing in one pool ; when Jack sees Tom getting 
 a bite, he himself pitches in the same spot, and prob- 
 ably destroys Tom's chance, without bettering himself. 
 There was a meeting held at Limerick on Thursday 
 on the subject of the station ; a great number of M. 
 P's attended ; and the object was to learn the result 
 of a deputation from Limerick to the manager of the 
 Cunard line of steamers from Liverpool. The result 
 was learned. That gentlemen snubbed them com- 
 pletely, and told them to lie by. It was very well that 
 he did so. In its Infantine state the Galway enterprise 
 might be seriously injured by the raising up of a rival, 
 and when Cunardians had effected this they would think 
 little of their leaving Foynes for Liverpool, and thus 
 deprive Ireland of a packet station In any place. Let 
 us hope that the Limerick people will give over throw- 
 ing at their neighbour's fish. They have other subjects 
 of enterprise in abundance, and they should attach 
 themselves to some of them. Mr. Smith O'Brien re- 
 buked them well, when they asked him to co-perate 
 with them In the establishment of packet station. Ah ! 
 what a heart is there — all for Ireland, none for a lo- 
 cality. — I Meath People. 
 
 The Atlantic Cable.— The Stag with seven miles 
 of the shore end of the cable on board, has arrived in 
 Valentin harbour, and Captain Kelt will, no doubt, 
 commence the laying of it without unnecessary delay. 
 There is one rather dangerous reef of rocks lying out 
 about one mile and a half or two miles outside of the 
 mouthofValentia harbour, called the Coast Guard 
 Patch. On this rock there are about ten fathoms at 
 low water and about twenty six fathoms all round it. 
 Unfortunately, as the Agamemnon enterecfftie harbour, 
 owing to the wind being unfovorable, she was obliged 
 to lay the cable over this spot. It is thought that the 
 drifting of ihec able over this place might have partially 
 caused the injury which has stopped the working for 
 so long a period. From this point It will of course 
 be removed, and deposited In the most secure and level 
 channel In the harbor. With the view of discov- 
 ering such aclianuel. Captain Kell has lor the last few 
 days been closely sounding every approach to the ba_T, 
 both on the Valentia and Lough Kay sides of the Be- 
 
 ginnish Island. As there Is already between four and 
 five miles of the shore end of the cable laid down, the 
 additional seven miles which will bo added to it by 
 Captain Kcll will render the rope quite secure against 
 Injury from the wash of the tide.- [Munster News.', 
 
 The Pout of Galway— Its iNCiiEAsiNa Piios- 
 PEUiTY.— For the last fifteen years our docks have 
 not been so crowded with shipping as at the present 
 moment. We counted this day no less than twenty- 
 eight large ships, with three steamers, in our docks, 
 and four at our roadstead, waiting for tide to come 
 into dock ; six of these were discharging cargoes of 
 Indian corn, and a large brig at our roadstead was 
 discharging her cargo in boats, so as to lighten her 
 to cross the bar outside our docks. Between the 
 discharging of these cargoes, with those of other 
 vessels — coals, timber, wheat, herrings, and assort- 
 ed cargoes — our docks present a scene of bussle and 
 business which it was not our pleasure to witness 
 for many years. — [Galway Express. 
 
 It is gratifying to us to be able to state that the po- 
 tato disease, which caused no inconsiderable alarm a 
 few weeks ago in consequence of the rapidity with 
 which it was spreading on all sides, appears to be ar- 
 rested in its progress. The crop ii holding its ground, 
 and the potatoes covered up with earth In pits, in the 
 old way, are continuing free from the infection. We 
 have heard various conjectures about the per centage 
 of the crop damaged, l)Ut we believe no accurate ap- 
 proximation of the truth can be arrived at yet. The 
 general impression is that two-thirds of the entire, on 
 an average, will escape unhurt. — [Tuam Herald 
 
 On Wednesday week two men, named James 
 O'Donnell and John ICeogh, were brought before the 
 magistrates at Pallas petty sessions, charged with 
 having killed a hare on the lands of Coogey, the 
 property of the Earl of Derby. These lands are 
 strictly preserved by the agent, Charles G Grey, Esq. 
 who, finding that the parties made no defence, pre- 
 vailed upon the magistrates to inflict a nominal pen- 
 alty, and, on paying the costs, the pcachers were dis- 
 missed with a lecture on the risk they had run. — [Clon- 
 mel Chronicle. 
 
 The Art Exhibition in Clonmel was finally closed 
 on Saturday evening. 
 
 MISCELLANEOUS NEWS. 
 
 A True Picture or an English Woman in 
 Paris.— Let us all religiously bend down to fashion, 
 and own ourselves her slaves in all ages ! But how 
 are we in Paris to put on a grave face and look respect- 
 fully at Mrs. Potts, and her friends the Misses Cofts, 
 just arrived, and who may be seen on the Boulevards 
 daily ? Here are three ladies, fat and forty (heaven 
 forgive me for publishing their age), wearing bronze 
 colored chip hats with feathers, and a glittering screen 
 of lace hanging from the broad rim of the said hat. 
 Then their dresses (dirty looking silk) are made to 
 stick out suddenly and abruptly before, and behind 
 and at the sides, as the case may be, and as 
 accident may Impose. We are all .ishamed of them, 
 and will not admit to our French friends that they 
 belong to Great Britain or Ireland. — [Paris correspon- 
 dent of the London Post. 
 
 The Paris correspondent of the London Globo 
 writes : — ' A rumor is circulated, and fully credited on 
 the Bourse, that orders have been transmitted to Gen. 
 MacMahon for immediate concentration of all tho 
 troops in Algeria, preparatory to a campaign against 
 Morocco. The last battle fought at Isly against this 
 Emperor of the Moors only produced a name for a. 
 Paris street, and a huge umbrella, which was captured 
 with the imperial baggage.- A more material guaran- 
 tee will be secured this time. Byron laughed at ' Gen- 
 eral Count O'Reilly, who did not take Algeria, but 
 Algeria took him.' It is now a crumb of comfort for 
 ttie Milesians, that from the Pyrenees to the range 
 of Mount Atlas every bayonet and firelock is under 
 tho sway ol Pat MacMahon and Leopold O'Don- 
 nell. 
 
254 
 
 IRISH MlSCELLAinr. 
 
 THE IRISH PACKET STATION — LETTER FROM 
 SMITH O'BRIEN. 
 
 The following letter from Smith O'Brien has been 
 received by the secretaries of the Limerick Packet 
 Station Committee : — 
 
 CvmnMOYLr., Newcastle West, > 
 October 2.5, 1858. J 
 Gentlemen — As you huve done me the honor to so. 
 licit my attendnnco nt ilie meeting wliicli is lo bo held 
 in Limerick on next Thursdiiy, for the promotion of a 
 
 the Gulway lino bo successful, it will follow, as an 
 ineviutblo consequence, that a Shannon lino will also 
 be successful, provided it shall be found that our river 
 possesses that superiority whicli wo are disposed to 
 claim for it ; and it is beyond all question that there is 
 trntJic enougli for both lines. 
 
 The same motives which will induce English and 
 foriegn passengers and merchants to freight a single 
 vessel will eijually operate to till twenty vessels, and 
 the trans-Atlantic traffic now concentrated in Liveri)Ool 
 
 trans-Atlantic Packet Station, and as it is probable j v^.jn be distributed amongst the ports of Ireland. It is 
 that I shall not be present on the occasion, I take the | „|inost needless for me to observe that the Irish traffic 
 
 liberty to commit to writing the ideas which have oc 
 curred lo me on the snliject — after having recently 
 visited Golway, Blaeksod Bay, Cork harbor and Va- 
 Icntia. 
 You state that the object of the proposed conference 
 
 is • To ascertain the views and opinions of those 
 
 whose interests arc most closely identified with the 
 successful estaiilishment of trans-Atlantic communica- 
 tion at the best port of Ireland lor that purpose.' I 
 offer the following remarks in conformity with the spirit 
 of this invitation. If I have any personal interest in 
 the question, that interest is connected with the port 
 of Foyncs, which lies within ten English miles of our 
 residence, and the river that intersects the territory 
 with which all the traditional memories of my family 
 as well as all our relations of property are connected. 
 But I am disposed to look at this question as a mat- 
 ter of national importance, rather than as one of local 
 or personal interest. 
 
 I wish, therefore, in the first place, to disclaim any 
 partii ipation in the disposition which has been evinced 
 by some todecry the port of Galway.andtoobstructthe 
 efforts which are at present in progress for establishing 
 a Trans-Atlantic Packet Station, I consider Galway 
 Bay to be a very line port, and if we liad the good for- 
 tone to possess a parliament in Ireland, Iwould have 
 no hestitation in supporting a vote in favor of what- 
 ever reasonable amount of money (say .£250,000) 
 might be necesseary for rendering it a secure harbor of 
 refucc. The British government has squandered 
 many millions of money, to which Ireland has contri- 
 buted, upon ports, such as Alderny, Dover, &c., the 
 unity of which is now questioned. It reserves also for 
 England the whole of the expenditure that is connect- 
 ed with the maintenance of naval dockyards — to tlie 
 exclusion of Ireland and Scotland. Under these cir- 
 cumstances it ought, in common justice, to accede to 
 any proposal that may be made for the improvement 
 of Irish ports, in whatever part of this kindom they may 
 be situated. 
 
 I wish success to the Galway line — first, because 
 the Lever company has bestowed a great benefit upon 
 Ireland in endeavouring to prove that trans-Atlantic 
 communication can be carried on very successfully 
 from an Irish port ; and next, because I believe that 
 the success of the Galway company will lead to the 
 establishment of trans-Atlanlic communication with 
 Limerick — whereas its failure would probably retard 
 for many years any similar enterprise from other ports 
 of Ireland. 
 
 Further, I have satisfied myself that the Galway 
 underuking will succeed, provided that the company 
 will put on the line vessels of the swiftest class. 
 Having myself witnessed the starling of the Pacific 
 from Galway Bay, and having perceived from the 
 public journals that susequent trips have been attended 
 with even a greater amount of passengers and goods, 
 I entertain no doubt that an amount of traffic, which 
 would bo far beyond the capacity of a single com- 
 pany to manage, will eventually feed the trans- Atlantic 
 enterprise of Ireland, if it can be established, by prac- 
 tical experience, as an unqaestionable fact that the 
 voyage to America can be made more quickly — by .36 
 hours— from an Irish than from an English port. This 
 is at present the great question at issue, and to the 
 determination of this point the sympathy and co-opera- 
 tion of the whole people of Ireland ought to be directed. 
 Galway has been the first to enter this career of com- 
 petiiion, and instead of impeding our fellow-country- 
 men in the race, we ought rather to cheer them on. If 
 
 is itself very considerable, and will probably increase 
 every year. It will be not only a saving of money to 
 Irish passengers to embark from an Irish port, but it 
 will also be a comfort to them to escape from the frauds 
 and annoyances which they encounter in the port of 
 Liverpool. 
 
 Such being my views with regard to the Galway 
 enterprise, I am of opinion that no evil will result 
 from a little delay in the formation of a Shannon 
 trans-Atlantic company. Whenever such a company 
 shall be formed, I hope that eflbrts may be made to in- 
 duce the Irish who are resident in America to become 
 shareholders in it, and, if possible, to obtain from the 
 American Government postal subsides in support of 
 this line of communication. 
 
 As between the different ports of the Shannon, I do 
 not feel myself competent to offer an opinion that can 
 claim to be of much value; but I give you the impres- 
 sions which at present rest upon my mind. In the 
 first place, I would say that our local community 
 ought not to be swayed by the private interests of any 
 locality, of any company, or of any individuals, in de- 
 terraiuig the port which shall be hereafter selected as 
 the point of arrival and departure for trans-Atlantic 
 vessels. Tarbert, Foynes and Kilrush are at present 
 the competing ports, and their respective claims ought 
 to be viewed with rigid impartiality by the public of 
 Limerick and the surrounding counties. In regard to 
 Tarbert and Kilrush, it may be assumed that very few 
 years will elapse before these towns will possess the 
 advantage of railway communication as well as 
 Foynes. For ray own part, I am convinced that the 
 Foynes Railway will never pay a profitable dividend 
 to the shareholders until it shall have been continued 
 to Tarbert, and thence to Tralee. It is also probable 
 that the Ennis Railway will be extended to Kilrush. 
 Now, if it be found that the Shannon communication 
 with America can be carried on more advantageously 
 from Tarbert or Kilrush than from Foynes, the claims 
 of either of these ports ought to be supported ; and, 
 on the other hand, if Foynes be found to be superior to 
 both, let it be taken as the point of arrival and depar- 
 ture. In any case, there can be no difficulty in trying 
 the experiment, because it appears from yoir report 
 that ocean steamers can be received into the docks at 
 Limerick, so that all that would be required at Foynes, 
 In order to make the experiment, would be the forma- 
 tion of a wooden jetty, or the purchase of an old hulk 
 at an expense of a few hundred pounds fas suggested 
 by Mr. Randall), by means of which passengers could 
 be landed on the pier at Foynes, which is at present in- 
 accessible at low water. The trans-Atlantic steamer, 
 after having delivered her passengers and mails at 
 Foyncs, might then carry her cargo into the docks at 
 Limerick. 
 
 I know not how far these views may be acceptable 
 to the parties who are promoting a Shannon line of 
 steam communication with America, but having been 
 invited to state my opinion, 1 have felt it to be my 
 duty to oll'er it frankly — under the influence of a para- 
 mount desire that Ireland shonid possess the advan- 
 tage of steam communication with America, an ad- 
 vantage to the relative importance of which I hold all 
 local rivalries or personal interests to be subordinate. 
 I have not deemed tt necessary to discuss the merits 
 of Valentia harbor or Blaeksod Biy. because they ore 
 a1 present out of the field of competition ; but I may 
 mention that when first I visited Valentia, I witnessed 
 the wreck of a vessel in the harbor itself, and that 
 Blaeksod Bay is cut off from internal communication 
 
 with the rest of Ireland by an immense tract of moor. 
 As for the Cove of Cork, if it jiossess the advantages 
 which the citizens of Cork claim for it, the Cork mer- 
 chants, and other parties connected with that city, are 
 quite competent to establish lor themselves a line of 
 trans-Atlantic communication. 
 I have the honor to be your obedient servant, 
 
 William S. O'Bbiex. 
 John Ellard, Esq., Wra. Carroll, Esq., Secretaries 
 
 TiTE Battle OF St. Cast. — This victory over ths 
 English, which the people of Britanny have lately com- 
 memorated by the en ciion of a fine monument, with an 
 emhleraaiic bronze group on the top, is thus des- 
 cribed — 'An officer of marines, who was present at the 
 engagement, and which was originally published in 
 the Gentleman's Magazine for IT.'iS, after describing 
 the manoeuvering of the fleet under Lord Howe, 
 says : — ' Upon the beach the peasants had thrown up 
 a sort of dyke, to hinder the sea from overflowing the 
 country, which reached from one side of the bay of St. 
 Cast to the other, and served as an excellent breast- 
 work to cover us from the enemy, but by some mistake 
 in General Drury, who commanded one division ,and 
 made the attack, it was rendered useless to us, and of 
 vast advantage to the French, for, instead of waiting 
 behind the dyke, he marched the division over it, and 
 attacked the enemy, who were ready formed on the 
 other side ; though, indeed, he made them twice give 
 way, yet the continual succors pouring down the 
 hollow way brought them backlo the charge, and then 
 they drove General Drury in return. Now he perceiv- 
 ed his error, for the second division could not get over 
 the breastwork time enough to succor the first, which 
 was entirely broke ; some, with great difficulty, got 
 back. The enemy, now having got possession of the 
 dyke kept a continual fire upon our grenadiers. When 
 the general saw no remedy left but to retreat, he or- 
 dered the whole to wheel immediately to the right, and 
 make for the boats as fast as possible ; some got on 
 board, but a battery which the French had erected on 
 the middle of the hill played so furiously that numbers of 
 the boats were beat to pieces. Then the enemy, when 
 they saw no retreat left for us on shore, mounted tlie 
 dyke, and by avast superiority of numbers drove those 
 that remained into the sea, who were either cut to 
 pieces or drowned. Ganeral Drury was shot in the 
 breast, and Sir JohnArmytage, a volunteer, was killed 
 apon a rock.' 
 
 ITransIated from the German for the Miscellany.] 
 A young gentleman on horseback, passing a church- 
 yard, where were many skulls, some of which were 
 white, and others black, thus addressed his servant: 
 ' You see the difference between these skulls.' ' Yes, 
 sir,' was the reply. ' Well, the white skulls are of 
 gentlemen ; the others belong to the peasantry.' Soon 
 after they had occasion to pass a gallows, where were 
 a number of the skulls of those who had suffered 
 thereon. They were all white. This time the ser- 
 vant stopped, and thus addressed his master: 'Here 
 you see a great many skulls ; they must have been all 
 gentlemen ; I cannot find any peasants amongst 
 them.' 
 
 A burglar recently entered through the window into 
 the house of a poor man, and was feeling round for 
 something to steal. The poor man, who heard his 
 operations, thus addressed him : ' Dear friend, you 
 come at night to seek something which I cannot find 
 in the day time.' 
 
 Two ladies, well powdered, and their faces covered 
 with rouge, asked a gentleman in a large company 
 what he thought of the fashionable ladies of the present 
 day. He replied, ' I am a bad judge of paintings.' 
 
 A friend asked a Dutchman what kind of a winter 
 he thought we should have. The Dutchman, drawing 
 himself up with an air of philosophic equanimity, and 
 nn oracular snap of the eye, said : ' I think she will 
 be worry cold dis winter, or worry hot — one of them 
 both.' 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 255 
 
 VARIOUS ITEMS. 
 
 ' Who's there !' said a policeman to a passing fig- 
 uro one dnik night. ' It's 1, ilon't bo al'miii,' kindly 
 replied an old woman. 
 
 ' A Stitch in time saves nine,' in boarding-school 
 parlance is now rendered, ' the first impression of a 
 needle upon a rent obviates a nine-fold introduction.' 
 
 What kind of a fever have those who wish to have 
 their names in print 1 Tvpe us Ctyphus.) fever. 
 
 What bad practice was the comet constantly guil- 
 ty of? Tale heaiirg. Why have we reason to suppose 
 that it lacked refinement of manners ? Because it was 
 constantly seen in the company of a Great Bear. 
 
 ' Miss Josephina,' said a thick, cherry-looking lipped 
 negro, to one of Afric's daughters, ' Miss Josephina, 
 will you do dis nigger de anticipation ob dancin' a 
 Wergina reel wid 'im ?' ' I doesn't assent to dance 
 wulgaracious dances ob datsort.Mr. Casus,' said Miss 
 Josephina, turning up still higher her well-rounded 
 lip, ' I dances only the porker !' 
 
 Vekt Natdkal — The raan who had a cloud upon 
 his brow has since been mist. 
 
 ADVERTISEMENTS 
 
 MERCANTILE AND WRITING SCHOOL, 
 
 E. J. GLEESON, Master. 
 
 This School is now opened at No. 23 Poetland Street, 
 a few doors south of Dooley's Exchange Hotel, where a 
 select and limited number of the Youth oi both sexes will 
 be admitted ; time from 9 A. M. to 12 M., and from 2 P. M 
 to 5 P. M. 
 
 TERMS MODERATE. 
 
 EVENING SCHOOL! 
 
 This school will be opened in the same place on the first 
 evening of next month, wlxere adults and those of riper 
 years, will be carefully and assiduously instructed in the 
 various branches of learning-, suitable to their calling. 
 
 BOOK-KEEPING : 
 
 Mr. Gleeson ventures to say, and pledges himself without 
 hesitation, that he will qualify young gentlemen for the 
 Counting Room, in half tUe time that is consumed in simi- 
 lar institutions in this city, and at considerable less ex- 
 pense. 
 
 August 17th, 185S. aug28 
 
 FINE READY MADE CLOTHmO 
 
 SPKING OVERCOATS, 
 
 BUSINESS COATS, 
 
 FROCK AND BRESS COATS, 
 
 PANTS AND VESTS, 
 Good, Stylish, "Well Made Garments, 
 Such as men of taste and good judgment will wear, can at 
 all times be found at our store. 
 Our aim is to produce for our customers the best Ready 
 Made Garments at the lowest fobsible friges for 
 CASH. 
 
 Readers of this Journal are earnestly solicited to exam- 
 ine our goods before purchasing. 
 
 J W. SMITH & CO., 
 
 DooK Square, corner Elm Street. 
 myll tf 
 
 SOUTH END CATHOLIC BOOK STORE, 
 
 And Depot for the Sale of the 
 
 METROPOLITAN AND YOUTHS' MAGAZINES. 
 
 WILLIAM KEATING, Agent, 
 
 8 1-2 Harrison Avenue, or at his New Periodical Store, 176 
 
 Harrison Avenue, Boston, Mass., 
 
 Where a great variety of the most popular Books and 
 
 Papers cam be had at the very lowest prices, 
 
 WILLsupplv Clubs, Agents, Canvassers, &c.. on the 
 same terms an the Publishers. The following are 
 the terms— 3 copies will be sent by mail, to one address, tor 
 onevearSG; C copies for SIO; 13 copies forS20; 20 copies 
 for ?3(.l. 
 
 [CjP- On the receipt of S3, three copies of the Catholic 
 Youth's Magazine and one copy of the Metropolitan will 
 be mailed regularly for one year. 
 
 ITr" A few sets of the Magazines from the beginning, can 
 be had of the Agent- Also, all new books furnished as 
 800U as published. Dp24 Smos 
 
 ADVERTISEMENTS. 
 
 OLD COLONY HOUSE. 
 
 PATRICK HOLLY bogs leave to announce to hie pat- 
 ions and tlie public Kenenilly tliiit he has coustautly 
 on hand at his old and ^vell-l<nowu stand, 
 
 THE OLD COLONY HOUSE, 
 
 CORNER OF KNEELAND A,yD SOUTH STREETS, 
 A CHOICE ASSORTMENT OF 
 
 BRANDIES, WINES, SCOTCH & IRISH 
 
 WHISKEY, CIGARS, &c. &c., 
 
 all of the very first quality, which can be obtained too at 
 
 LOWER RATES 
 
 than elsewhere in the market i in proof of which he invites 
 purchasers to give him a call. aug28 
 
 NORTHERN HOUSE, 
 
 NORTH SQtTA RE— BOSTON. 
 
 JOHN GLANCY Proprietor. 
 
 This House has rooms equal to any first class Hotel, and 
 permanent or transient Boarders can be accommodated 
 nearly one half cheaper than at any other House in the 
 City. 
 
 In the Reading Room can be found all the morning and 
 evening papers, and periodicals of the day, together with 
 an extensive Lieeary, for the free and exclusive use oi 
 the Boardkrs. 
 
 N. B. Strangers visiting Boston, can always find this 
 House a Home. 
 
 J. & R. MURPHY, 
 
 MANUfACTtTKEKS OF 
 
 SURGICAL AND DENTAL INSTRUMENTS, 
 CUTLERY, 
 
 AND STEEL WORK OF EVERY KIND, 
 No. 3 HARVARD PLACE, (opposite the Old South,) 
 
 BOSTON, Mass. 
 Q^Cutlery and Instruments of all kinds Repaired, 
 ly aug28 
 
 GENERAL TICKET OFFICE 
 
 — FOR THE — 
 
 SOUTHERN AND WESTERN STATES 
 
 THE CAN AD AS, 
 No. 2 Albany Street, Boston. 
 
 EDWARD EYAN, Agent. 
 
 N. B. — Passage to and from Liverpool, and Bills of Ex- 
 change on England, Ireland and Scotland. 
 
 ap24 ly 
 
 FRANCIS GODFREY, 
 
 IMPORTER AND RESTORER OF 
 
 ITALIAN PAINTINGS, 
 
 AND MANUFACTURER OF GILT FRAMES, 
 
 12 Franklin Street, Boston, 
 [C?" Engravings, Lithographs, Crayons, &c., on sale. 
 3m aug28 
 
 CATHOLIC BOOK STORE. 
 
 WILLIAM HICKEY, Catholic Bookseller, and Agent 
 for the Extensive Publishing House of D. & J. 
 Sadlier & Co., of New York. 
 The latest and most varied stock of Religious Prints, 
 MISSALS, PRAYER BOOKS, CROSSES, 
 and all the Current Literature, constantly on hand. 
 
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256 
 
 IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 OUR VISIT TO pUINCV. 
 
 By appointment, we saw old friends in the older 
 town of the Adams's, on Friday and Saturday, Nov. 
 19 and 20. Scattered as it is over an area of miles, 
 yet we found au unity of sentiment and kindly feel- 
 ing which we will treasure up in our remembrancer 
 as a something to dispel the blues, should wc ever \ 
 ieel an attack of those horrifying ' imps." 
 
 ■\Ve visited those ledges of rock where Massachu- 
 setts boasts of wealth, beyond the gold diggings of 
 Sacramento, and while we gazed into the chasms, 
 excavated by so much simplicity, when aided by ort 
 and science, we involuntarily made use of the vul- 
 garism in common use in our old country, ' Noth- 
 ing beats the art of man barring the bees." Well, 
 we really thought the bees were beaten when we 
 saw stones of from ten to fifty tons turned out to 
 almost an inch of where desired, and carried or 
 drawn to remote places by a simple yoke of oxen, to 
 be worked by the artist ; and as we looked into the 
 depths, and out upon the blue hills, we fairly con- 
 jectured that we were not permitted to see the true 
 development of the great republic. 
 
 Wc imagined, like the Irishman, that down in the , 
 lakes (or RTumie rather,) wc could see innumerable j 
 spires and steeples, custom houses, and post-offices, • 
 for towns and cities which in the future will adorn the 
 prairies of the great West. And when we call to mind ] 
 Irish skill and labor in the production of I.eauty aod 1 
 grauduer from those huge masses of adamantine ugU- 
 ness, we thought once more of the Americin-ism that 
 would drive away Irish art, intellect, and labor, which 
 is rearing earths ■ great empire ;' but the sober second 
 thought is returning, the reaction has fairly set in, and 
 we hope that a lesson will be remembered for the good 
 of future generations. 
 
 While waiting for the cars, we looked into the little 
 grave-yard adjoining the railroad, and our friend drew 
 our atieniion to a dark tomb-sione, upon which is en- 
 graved the demise of • Jolm B. Greeve and Uannah 
 Bunks, both of ZancsviUe, Ohio, who died Nov. 12, 
 1850. Deluded by the writings of A. J. Davis.' The 
 story of this young couple is a strange and affecting 
 one. They were, by evidence, man and wife, yet had 
 wandered 'from ihe'West as brothers, and passed as ' 
 such in the boarding-house, the wife's time being usu- | 
 ally spent in reading, while the husband worked at his I 
 trade, that of boot-making, she still wearing men's j 
 attire. They were missed, however, and soon their 
 bodies were found frozen in the cold embrace of death 
 and covered in ice. His father, we understand, proved 
 to the marriage, and no doubt was entertained of the 
 affection which existed between them. ' Delud- d by 
 the writings of A. J. Davis,' saiih the tomb-stone. 
 What a rtfleclion ! 
 
 The thousands slain by war are upon the lips of all 
 the pbilanihro^hisis, yet we hear nothing of the thou- 
 sands slain by thet-e wild theorists, whose dreaming is 
 the distraction of hundreds of thousands, and in whose 
 volumes there is no Christian principle sufficient to 
 hang a thought upon. We feel indebted to O. A. 
 Brownson for the best expose we have seen upon the 
 great evil of spiritualism. We are pleased, however, 
 that oar people are not, nor can even be led into such 
 a delusion. 
 
 Our thanks are due to Messrs. Cahill, Devlin and 
 Kerrigan for much kindness shown us on our visit to 
 the granite town. Mr. Kerrigan has kitidly accepted 
 the commission of local agent for the I. M. He. we 
 are assured, will give universal satisfaction, and we 
 will endorse the business he performs in our name. 
 Wo hope to spend a day in Qoincy ere next summer 
 
 comes again. 
 
 ' When the bloom is on the rjc' 
 
 THE GALWAV LINE. 
 
 We have read, with extreme pleasure, the letter 
 of the patriot William Smith O'Brien, and we thank 
 that gentleman for the urbane and positive way he 
 declined to have anything to do with the Minerick 
 movement. Oalway is now and must be acknowl- 
 edged the established Irish port or depot for the 
 transmission of mails, merchandise, and passengers 
 to America. Then away with your rivalry, when 
 the worid has it proven to them that Ireland stands 
 between England and the American continent, then 
 the famed city of Limerick, of violated treaty, of 
 Sarsfield, and noble siege memory may think, and 
 think safely, of being a trans- Atlantic port ; then, 
 when the cotton, tobacco, and all the exchanges for 
 Europe go by Ireland, wo shall have little doubt but 
 Cork, Limerick, Foynes, Valcntia, and other ports 
 may be called into requisition ; but, at present, the 
 united efforts of Irishman everywhere should be to 
 prove that Galway is 300 miles nearer America than 
 Liverpool, and the greater portion of the difficulties 
 removed; besides, that a packet station is a national, 
 not a local affair ; that it is not Galway against 
 Limerick, but Ireland against the intrigues of the 
 whole British nation ; that, if successful in Galway, 
 ' Ireland becomes known to the world. It will be a 
 bloodless revolution, placing her before the Saxon, 
 I and prvoing her of more importance than any other 
 ; locality in Her Majesty's dominions. 
 
 ADVBBTIBBMBNT8. 
 
 STEAM TO ALL PARTS OF GREAT BRITAIN 
 
 — VIA TUB— 
 
 ATLANTIC IIOYAI. MAIL .STKAMSIlir l,0'.S 
 
 NEW YORK AND GALWAY LINE. 
 
 rnUIti is the Hhortc.^it route between Europe and Amor- 
 I icu The lint! in cumponed of powerful uilii tii»l Bttll- 
 iui! steiinmliiliK, ably olhccrecl, and lurnlKhcd with cvc-ry- 
 thVuir rcquinito to render the vovttjj;e ..ttfo and «Krceahle. 
 The di-partures IVom New York for Oalwuy will be M fol- 
 lows, until further notice, vk — 
 
 I'UINCE ALBEHT, C'apt. Waters, fhurpday, December 2. 
 
 I'crsons visitinR Ireland reach their destination In Ihreo- 
 
 fourths the time taken by any otlier route, and all h»ve an 
 
 opportunity ot visiting places and Bccnery ol unrivalled In- 
 
 '"i'ric'J'oVmsfaKC, InclndinR free ticket.^ by the usual rail- 
 road route' fro... Oalway to any oi the pr.no.pa c nej, ol 
 tireat Britain, at the followinf! reduced rttteH:-Hr»t class 
 S90. second class S50, third clasa S30. , 
 
 T lohc wishinir to bring their friends to this country can 
 Durchattickelsfor thJir parage in third class from (ia - 
 way at 830, or from other cities in Oreat Britain, acccwiblo 
 by railroad, S3o. A liberal cubin table will be provided 
 and cooked provisious for third class p-osBengera to and 
 
 "^For freight and passage and further particulars apply to 
 the American Express Company, 01 Hudson street, ftcw 
 Yo.k, orto jj4j,Ko BROTHEKS & SWEENEY, 
 
 „1R tf 5 Chatham Uow, Boston. 
 
 PASSAGE REDUCED BETWEEN 
 
 LIVERPOOL AND BOSTON. 
 
 MERCHANTS' LINE 
 
 — OP — 
 
 BOSTON AND LIVERPOOL PACKETS; 
 
 SAILINQ FHOM LIVERPOOL DIRECT TO BOSTON EVERY 
 FIFTEEN DAYS. 
 
 THE SPLENDID PACKETS comprising this line are as 
 follows:- Commodore, 1800 tons, Capt Bliss; Carlyle, 
 2000 tons, Cnpt Maxwell ; Sliuwmut, 1000 tons, Capt. Hig- 
 gTs Mongolia, 1500 toiis, Capt. Melcher; Thos. Jeffersou, 
 15O0 tons, C-apt, Hill ; Wafter Scott, 1800 tons, (_^^npt. bm.lh ; 
 l^icesshoyal 'iOOo'tons, Capt. Hartl_ey ; Kichard Morse, 
 1500 tons. Capt! Uinsmore; Thalatta, IroO tons Capt. Stin- 
 eon; Cambria, 1850 tons, Capt. Perry; Pocahontas 1,00 
 tons, Capt, Deland; UufusChoate, 1600 tons, Cnpt. K di. 
 These ships are all of the first class, mostly new, and bnilt 
 1 expressly for the Liverpool trade; spacious between decks, 
 i well ventilated, with all the modern improvements lor the 
 comlort, health and safety of pas^sengers. I hey are com- 
 manded by American Captains of known experience and 
 1 kindness, who will carefully look to all the wants ol the 
 
 1 ''"Ea'c'lf ship wm'^be furniS with proper Medical attcn- 
 
 ** Pcnons sending for their friends in the Old Conntry can 
 ' DEPEND on having them ordered up promptly lor he 
 1 FIRST SHIPS, and at such times as will prevent their be ng 
 
 detained in Liverpool, as is often practiced by the other 
 
 ""'''■ RATES OF PASSAGE 
 
 from Liverpool to Boston (including provisions);— 
 
 Eor persons 12 years of age, and over, - - - ^r9 9? 
 
 For children under 12 years, - - - ". " 'S }^ 
 
 lor infants under 1 jear, at time of embarkation, 6 00 
 
 REMITTANCES. 
 Bills of Exchange on England, Ireland, Scotland, Wales 
 
 ''''i^:::^I'^:^l^^'^Zlyio'lil pansol Europe by 
 
 ^'""""■"'"''"iSigr RICHARDSON & CO.. 
 
 134 State street, Boston. 
 
 ITT- For PASSAGE CERTIFICATES from and to Liver- 
 poXand Bills of Exchange, or for any lulormatiou as 
 above, apply personally or by letter to 
 
 LAWRENCE & RYAN, Agents, 
 
 ji27iy No. 41 Broad street, Boston. 
 
 W. J. HENNESSY. 
 ARTIST, 
 
 No. 87 FRANKLIN STREET, 
 
 NEW YORK CITY. 
 
 DO'EOUKKE, respectmily informs his Iriends and the 
 .public, that he keeps constantly on hand tU^^I^S 
 of all sizes and kinds, at his Coflin Manuluctory, No 817 
 Federal, between Bench and Kuceland Streets, Boston, 
 wliioh he will sell as reasonable as can be bought at auy otu- 
 er place in the city. , . , , , ,,, 
 
 ^ B —Orders punctually attended to, day or nigUt. 
 Kesidence, No. 28 South street, Boston. 
 O-Cirave-Clothes furnished to order at short noUo*. 
 
 febl3 
 
 T AWKENCE BKIGADE BAND. J. Desmond, Lead- 
 I J er Are prepared to furnish Music lor Military and 
 oTic Parades. Pic-Nics, Festivals, &c. Also, a Quadrille 
 Band lUrnished, if desired. Address J. Desmond, care of 
 Kev. J. ODonncU, Lawrence, Mass. 
 
 OUR AGENTS. 
 
 Boston -John J. Dyer, & Co., S5 School street; A. Wil- 
 liams & Co., 100 Washington street; tedhercu & Co., 9 and 
 13 Court street- Wm. Hickey, 128 federal street; Howe B 
 Co., 11 Court Avenue; and William Keating, 170 Uarr.son 
 Avenue, ,.,.,, u 
 
 Bangor, Me.— Edward J. Kelleher. 
 
 New York,— Dexter & Brother, 14 & 16 Ann street. 
 
 Troy, N, Y',— Francis Uoarke, 
 
 Philadelphia,-A, Winch, 320 Chestnut street^ 
 
 Ohio — M. U. Bird, Cincinnati, and Hawks & Brothers, 
 Cleaveland, 
 
 Detroit, Mich,— J. A. Roys. 
 
 St, Louis, Missouri,— Thomas Duggan. 
 
 New Orleans, La.— James M. Shine. 
 
 California— James McGinn, of San Francisco. 
 
 The MLmUany may also be had, retail, of newspaper and 
 periodical dealers throughout the country. 
 
 TRAVELLING AOENTS, , , , . 
 
 John Warren, 50 Andovcr street, for Boston and vicinity 
 James Doyle, of Millbury, Mass, M, liudlay McKav, 
 of Amesburv. Muss, Edwird 11, Keenan ot North terns- 
 burg Vt Michael F. Hackett, of Providence. I .1. Jame. 
 SulRvan, of New Haven, Ct. James Cullen, of West Iroy, 
 N. Y. Daniel A. Brosuan, of Washington, D. C. 
 
 We regret to announce th. death of the «ev. James 
 Revnolds^ K. C. priest of Stamfcrd, Conn. Mr, Key- 
 nolds dea'th has thrown his people into the "•o^M'"'"- 
 ful grief. In him they have lost a spiritual and tem- 
 poral adviser seldom surpassed-one whom they truly 
 loved ana sincerely mourn. We luve ''kewise lo t a 
 friend in the worthy pastor ot btamtord »'' '''"'^ 
 ness and affability will long be remembered by all who 
 knew him.' Reiiniescat in pace.' 
 
 PASSENGER CERTIFICATES. 
 
 TO OLD CULNTKYMEN. OWEN Mo Namara has 
 Passage Certihcales and Drafts always on hand and 
 for sale As he does business for that most respectable 
 hou.se, (Williams & Guion) in New York, Old Countrymen 
 desiriUK to send for their friends, or remit money, would 
 dowcUto give him a call atNo. 4Goruam St„ opposite 
 Summer St,, Lowell, Mass "■--•• 
 
 ! rilEN HEADY WAYS TO MAKE MONEY, being ten 
 I original receipts for the manufacture of uselul arti- 
 cles, whfch command a nuick sale, and insure a lull pocket. 
 Formerly sold fur S-'j; but uow sent to any person lor one 
 irold dollar. Address T L, KEILLY, Peace Dale, K. I. 
 al8 at 
 
 TKEANOIt & (,i;iXEY. ATTOKNEYS and COUNSEL- 
 L(,)HS AT LAW, 15 Massachusetts Block, Court square, 
 i Boston. . . .»,„ 
 
 (TT-Panlcular attention paid to Conveyancing, »"«'■>' 
 ' •xamination of titles of Keal Estate. '«" 
 
 RATES OF ADVERTISING. 
 
 FOR EAOH SyUARE OF TWELVE LINK*. 
 
 First insertion, , , , 81,00 | Three months, . , »6,00 
 
 Each subseiinent do . 50 1 One vear, , , , . l«-UU 
 
 Six lines or less constitute hall a square. 
 
 Larger advertisements charged in proportion. 
 
 Business NoUces, solid . . . 10 cents per line. 
 
 " " leaded ... 16 ' 
 
 BUSINESS CARDS of six lines oe lkss. 
 For On Month,. . . 81,50 1 Six Months, . . . je.OO 
 
 Three Months, . . . S3.00 | On« Y ear »800 
 
 •.•All advertisements payable In advance. 
 
 THE 
 IRISHMISCELLANY 
 
 Is published weekly, and devoted to the interests and vin- 
 rtit-ation of the Irish people throughout the world. 
 
 The AIi'r/(/«ny republishes each week one whole number 
 of the old • DuRLiN Penny Journal,' with original and 
 selected essays, reviews, poetry, &c., by Irishmen, of lirst- 
 mte ab litv It also contains heautilHl Pictorial Illustra- 
 tions of Irish scenery and other objects of interest, among 
 which may be enumerated engravings ot the Hiioicnt cas- 
 1 ties and round towers, the rniiis of the old churches, the 
 Blundered monasteries, convents and abbeys of Ireland. 
 
 It will also contain correct Pictorial repre,«cntationB ot 
 works ofart executed by Irishmen ol the present day, »» 
 well as in former times, iu this country and throughout 
 
 TaaMS.- »2,00 per year, invariably in advance. 
 THOMAS O'NEILL. Proprietor, 
 MICHAEL J. WALSH, Conddctor, 
 
 No. 4 Watku Strkkt, Bobtcm, Uass. 
 
VOLUME 2— NUMBER 43.] 
 
 BOSTON, SATURDAY, DECEMBER 4, 1858. 
 
 [PRICE FOUR CENTS. 
 
 CATHERINE HAYES. 
 
 The birth-place of this great vocalist was Limer- 
 ick, Ireland. From her earliest childhood she ex- 
 hibited a precocity of vocal power that won for her 
 the patronage of Dr. Knox, the Protestant Bishop 
 of that See. This clergyman, struck by the singu- 
 lar musical capacity evinced by the ' little Katie,' 
 determined on making arrangements to cultivate 
 her remarkable talents, and, to obtain the neces- 
 sary funds, opened a sub- 
 scription list amongst his 
 friends, by which a large 
 sum was procured, and 
 Mise Hayes was then 
 placed, by him, under 
 Signer Sapio, then a resi- 
 dent in Dublin. Here she 
 arrived in 1840, and in the 
 following year her im- 
 provement had been so 
 rapid, that she made her 
 first appearance at the an- 
 nual concert given by her 
 master. Her success was 
 unprecedented, and from 
 that time she steadily 
 made a rapid advance in 
 her profession. In 18-13, 
 the operatic company of 
 Her Majesty's Theatre, in 
 London, were in Dublin, 
 and she had the gratifica- 
 tion of singing at a con- 
 cert in which the great 
 ' basso ' Lablache was en- 
 gaged, who then expressed 
 a warm opinion of her 
 merits. On this occasion 
 she first saw an opera, 
 and from that period her 
 determination arose to 
 succeed upon the lyric 
 stage. After great oppo- 
 sition from her friend, it 
 was at last decided that 
 the enthusiastic girl should 
 be placed under the tuition 
 of Signor Garcia. Ac- 
 cordin;^ly, in the follow- 
 ing year she arrived at Paris. On hearinc her sing, ' 
 Garcia was at once struck by the capabilities of her 
 voice, which is a very full and extensive ' soprano," 
 ranging in its lower portion over much of the ' con- 
 tralto ' register. He accordingly addressed him- 
 self to the task of instruction, and to upe the en- 
 thusistic words of Kate Ilayes herself, proved him- 
 self ' the kindest and most generous of masters ' 
 during a year and a lialf, at the termination of 
 
 which he advised her to go to Italy and study for 
 three months, for the stage, under the Signor Felice 
 Ronconi. 
 
 This she accordingly did, and was soon prepared 
 to make her debut upon the operatic stage. This 
 took place in Milan, where her success was unequi- 
 vocal. So triumphantly, indeed, did she succeed, 
 that in less than three weeks her name was heard 
 through the whole of Italy. Offers of engagements 
 
 "THE SWAN OF ERIN." 
 
 poured in upon licr from every quarter, and after 
 singing at Florence, Naples and Genoa, as well as 
 Milan, slie returned to England, to dazzle and en- 
 chant the lovers of music in her own land. 
 
 Here her first ajipearanee was at the Italian Opera, 
 Convent (iarden, and her success was at the same 
 time unprecedented and most extraordinary. In 
 the subsequent season she appeared at Her Majesty's 
 Theatre, and had the satisfaction of repeatedly 
 
 singing at Court, where she received a warm trib- 
 ute of admiration from Prince Albert, who is very 
 essentially a thorough judge of music. After 
 this strangely rapid rise into reputation, Katie 
 Hayes had at this time been no more than three 
 years before the British public. Possessing one of 
 the purest ' soprano ' voices, perhaps fairly consid- 
 ered, the finest organ of the present day, and 
 thoroughly educated, she has yet one greater gift — 
 that of genius, and strong 
 in its matchless power, is 
 certain of reaping that 
 golden harvest which is 
 ever awarded to all excel- 
 lence, without distinction, 
 on the score either of sei 
 or of country. The Lon- 
 don Musical World thus 
 discoursed at the time of 
 her departure for this 
 country : — < That Cathe- 
 rine Hayes will take Yan- 
 kee land by storm, we 
 have no doubt, and, with 
 fair play for the Irish 
 ' prima donna,' we prog- 
 nosticate as resounding 
 and legitimate success for 
 her as was ever earned for 
 a singer. Catherine Hayes 
 has claims to the favor 
 and countenance of the 
 Americans, to which few 
 others have any preten- 
 sions ; she is Irish, and 
 that is enough to make 
 her obtain a very * cead 
 mille failthe ' of a wel- 
 come. May her successes 
 be interminable, and may 
 the bright star of Erin 
 shed a light and a glory 
 from North and South, 
 throughout the Western 
 Continent. Above all, 
 may she not be lost in the 
 prairies, or devoured in 
 the effulgence of one of 
 Bariium's comets ; butre- 
 turn to us light in hrait, wcigliud down by dollars, 
 with her voice beautified and ripened by Uolum'uian 
 gales.' In some respects. Miss Hayes is said to 
 actually rival Jenny Lind, and indisputably so as 
 regards the pathos and feeling with which she 
 rpnders her role. Jenny astonishes and draws 
 forth rapturous applause, while Catherine delights 
 and touches the heart to lis most perfect tender- 
 ness. 
 
258 
 
 IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 CRINOLINE. 
 
 Fan minima t-i«t ipna puella sui. 
 
 TlicyouDK istlie Icuat jittrl of licniclf — Ovin. 
 
 It had been from boyhood my lixeil and unalterable 
 beliil that the circumstances of private lite should 
 lie held sacred. This opinion may bo orignal 
 or it may not, but it boa long been mine. 
 I consider that the evonts which occur under 
 the domestic roof should be inviolably guarded. 
 There are few men who'would not shrink from acknow- 
 ledging, through the instrumentality of the press, that 
 a joint under or over done, the absence of a shirt but- 
 ton, the presence of an undigested potato, and cast 
 wind, a rise in the price of coals, such like circumstan- 
 ces ond things, had disturbed the equanimity of their 
 temper, so necessary for domestic government. Say 
 that the father of a family, having reduced his quarter- 
 ly resources in the purchase of the latest fashions for 
 the beloved ossocieiies of his hearth fendearcd to him 
 by all those ties of atVection which exalt and beautify 
 humanity), and that his exacerbated feelings exhaust 
 tliemsclves in unscriptunil language when the tax man 
 calls the third time for Ministers Money ? Say that 
 he has forgotten his manhood so far as to consign (even 
 temporarily) to a place of torture to which even his 
 masculine energies would succumb, the female who 
 from mistaken views of her art, had ovcrstarchedthat 
 neither garment, which, in connection with other arti- 
 cles of costume, but chieffy a brown silk umbrella, has 
 become a symbol of British respectability ! Say that 
 a female servant aggravates his beloved partener, by 
 giving warning in terms indicative of an equality if not 
 superiority of position, flouncing off with four blue 
 bandboxes and her chin in the air, to represent the wife 
 of his bosom to]the proprietor of the mangle in the lane 
 as a shrew who would famish the smallest of domestic 
 animals — are the public to be made the recipients of 
 such confidences ? No. Such things, I repeat, are 
 sacred, and should be piously guarded from the pro- 
 fanation of publicity within the happy precincts of the 
 domestic circle. And yet occasionally destiny creates 
 circumstances under which humanity gives way, and 
 man is forced, by a remorseless necessity, to ventilate 
 his grievance and seek in the general sense of the pub- 
 lic for alleviation and redress. When I say that I re- 
 fer to crinoline, I convey, I am sure, the best illustra- 
 tion to this remark. I state the opinion 1 have arrived 
 at on this subject broadly, which is this, that if its ex- 
 pansion increases, our wives and daughters, who, as 
 my motto states, are now the least part of themselves, 
 will become invisible — that before this occurs domes- 
 tic life will from said cause, have become impossible — 
 and that husbands will be driven to sae for a seperate 
 maintenance. 
 
 I know, sir, that the man who brings this topic 
 nndcr public consideration requires no ordinary cour- 
 age and fortitude of soul. The appearance of this let- 
 ter may surround the writer with innumerable and, 
 not unlikely, with deadly foes. The female commu- 
 nity,always happily large, and now more so than ever, 
 will take the field against him, and he may possibly bo 
 sacrificed. But as there are certain duties from which 
 it were ignomy to shrink, in the hope that the impres- 
 sion of the paper in which this appears will from the 
 careful preparations I have taken, escape the cyeB of 
 my beloved wife and daughters, I enter fearlessly into 
 the subject. 
 
 I need scarcely say that shortly after the invention 
 and adoption of crinoline, I found that my house at 
 certain periods of the day, became impassable. When 
 my family dressed for a promenade, attempted to leave 
 the house, or their female visitors in any force occupied 
 the drawing-room, I was constantly under the appre- 
 hension that their departure would bo attended with 
 serious injury to themselves. On such occasions 
 (while a mere fixture in a corner of the chamber) they 
 quieted my fears as best they could, and exhibited, I 
 must admit, extraordinary address in the management 
 of their movement ; but I found that, under a repiti- 
 tion of such scenes, my intellect became shaken and 
 that my health was becoming impaired. Once, when 
 called out on important business, and finding myself 
 
 jammed at a landing on the stairs between a number 
 of crinolines asceudfu^ and descending, and dreading 
 the concussion of the immense bodies gravitating to- 
 ward me — my brain, I confess, gave way, aud I was 
 obliged to desend by the window, at great personal 
 risk, and escape as best I could through the garden 
 stables. In my progress I nearly sustained serious in- 
 jury, by stumbling in my agitation, over my youngest 
 child, who being dressed in the prevailing fashion, 
 encumbered this entire walk, and a large portion of the 
 bedson the other side. The appearance of my darling 
 infant being that of an enormous saucer, so powerfully 
 affected my mind during the day, that when we assem- 
 bled at tea, and several times as I am informed, gave 
 utterance to such expressions as — ' Louisa — why dont 
 you cool your tea in your Mary Anue, child' — ' John 
 take care, sec you do not break from Marv Ann,' &c 
 But it is painful to dwell on this distressing subject. 
 Let me hasten to relate the last frightful occurrence in 
 which crinoline last involved mo. 
 
 Some time since, my wife requostod mo to accom- 
 pany her and my daughters to a Flower Show. The 
 day appeared fine, when, after dilliculiies I need not 
 dwell upon, wo got under weigh. After some time, I 
 mastered the difficulty of retaining my wife's arm. she 
 being necessarily several yards distant from me. Louisa 
 and Amelia Sophia followed in tlie rear, accompanied 
 at a similar distance by two friends of mine, who had 
 attained considerable ease in accompanying similar 
 crinolines and keeping within speaking distance with 
 the occupants. The day changed aa we progressed, 
 and a light wind sprung up from the north-west, as it 
 increased in strength, presently filled my mind with 
 ominous forobodings. I had, sir, experienced several 
 gales upon the water during my life time in crossing 
 the Channel, and one uf awful violence while journey- 
 ing in a canal boat into the interior, but as the gale fresh- 
 ened I became quickly aware that the dingers I had 
 escaped on those occasions were quite insignificant to 
 those which now encompassed mo. 
 
 In ordinary navigation, two elements come into play 
 — water and wind, and the first supports while the 
 latter impels us ; but in baloon voyages yon are at the 
 mercy of one element, and are blown hither and thither 
 at will. I need not enter into the analogy. The fol 
 lowing items from my note-book, or log, will suffi- 
 ciently illustrate what I mean. I copy out verbatim 
 the notes of this frightful and never-to-be-repeated ex- 
 periment : — 
 
 ****** 
 
 ' At the corner of the second street I almost lost my 
 wife, the wind striking with immense violence upon 
 the mass of crinoline which, becoming inflated, forced 
 me to put forth my entire strength to retain our posi- 
 tion on the flagway, I had frequently heard of the 
 disastrous effects proceeding from what mariners call ' a 
 cap full of wind, here, however I found myself borne 
 down and overmastered by something much more 
 dangerous — a crinoline skirtful. I was just about to 
 intreat assistance from the members of n hackney 
 cab-stand, which, being anchored in the road, was with- 
 in hail, when the gust passed away and wo put into a 
 shop to refit. When there, discovered that immense 
 strength of the iron framework underneath the dress 
 had been proof against the violence of the clement. 
 Made an observation, while still under shelter, in the 
 direction of my daughters, whom I found laboring 
 under heavy stress of weather, at some distance, but 
 by the courageous agency of their companions, they 
 shortly appeared to have recovered themselves. (Lat. 
 22 dcg. N. of Grafton-street, I ong. 18. 2' 2" E. of 
 Bank.) 
 
 ' For some time we proceeded on our course with 
 a fair wind exchanging signals with several other 
 crinolines outward and homeward bound. Two of 
 those spoken with ; found they were largely chartered 
 with animal spirits. Gale increasing. Serious appre- 
 hension entertained respecting the passage of Carlisle 
 Bridge. Suggestion offered as to the necessity of close 
 refining petticoats. Repudiated with scorn. Resolu- 
 tion arrived at that the convoy shall sail close to the 
 paliisades to insure safe anchorage, and that they keep 
 
 together as much as the violence of the elemenl.s per 
 mit. Corner of Westmorland street approached. 
 Pass Lundy Foot's Point with flying colours. Thrcal- 
 ning aspect of clouds to the westward ; heavy drops of 
 rain. Thunder I 
 
 ' Female figure on outsiile car (supposed to be an 
 Old Lady) passes in the storm, now immensely in- 
 creased. Nothing visible hut two black cloth laced 
 boots, underneath an inflated crinoline, in which the 
 figure, in an attitude of vigorous resistance to the 
 tempest, is buried. Disappears suddenly, followed by 
 a flash of lightning. Wind freshening rapidly. Con- 
 cussions with one ground Swell ; eyeglass displaced ; 
 apologies ; crown sailing under umbrella and parasols, 
 awful tumult. Nothing heard but the flapping of skirts 
 and creaking of iron. 
 
 ' Sackville-strcet entered safely. Coast, especially 
 eastward, in the direction of Law's, indicating the pre- 
 sence of great mineral wealth. Further on much 
 sugar observed growing (fly blownj, and immense va- 
 rieties of cotton. One district solely engrossed with 
 medicinal plants and abundantly irrigated by (Bowley 
 and Evan's) soda water. Plain sailing for some time. 
 Thunder clouds gathering heavily to leeward. Re- 
 spected flashes of lightning and long continued peals 
 of thunder. Danger extremely imminent. Horrible 
 apprehensions that the electric fluid, acting on the 
 steel framework of the crinoline sails should burn mj 
 family to the flagway edge. For some time nothing 
 audible but the roaring of the wind, mingled with that 
 of the cad of Wilson's omnibus. 
 
 'Stormbursts with unparalleled violence as we enter 
 the meridian of Nelson's Pillar. Observe a number 
 of crinolines in great distress at the crossing, which the 
 fierce north wind roaring down from the Rotundo, 
 renders impossible. Crossing attempted. Sudden 
 explosionof the elements ; parasols reefed; shrieks of 
 agony from the entire convoy. Heavy rain. Endeav- 
 ors to call a cab — failure : voices lost in the tumult 
 of the elements. Crinoline skirts gave way, and iron 
 protrudes through the muslin. Entire party wrecked 
 and blown assunder. Finally collect and retreat into 
 Confectioner Harbor ; await in miserable plight, and 
 with many pious ejaculations for their safety, the 
 cessation of the storm. Not unlike a bundle of un- 
 broken ambrellas. Such was the frightful termination 
 or our crinoline baloon navigation.' 
 
 I am aware sir, that the suppression of crinoline 
 will encounter the opposition not only of large bodies 
 in the commercial community at home but of several 
 of the most powerfnl European states. TJie iron mas- 
 ters of Birmingham, a most potent company, having 
 ing interests of great weight at stake, will, undoubtedly 
 take their stand by the side of the present petticoats; 
 while the countries which export the material of which 
 they are formed — Sweedcn and Russia — will, very 
 possibly, oppose a movement tending to check the de- 
 velopment of their cjmmerce by a declaration of War. 
 Again, should the attempt to revive the ordinary fash- 
 ion of petticoat sue eid, wo cannot overlook the con- 
 sequences of large masses of the manufacturing popu- 
 lation being thus thrown out of employment — a con- 
 tingency from which the government will naturally 
 shrink, and which can only be met by organising an 
 extensive emigration movement to the colonies. The 
 whole question is surrounded with difliculties, and can 
 only be encountered by the good sense, the energy, and 
 courage of the people. If crinoline is abolished by 
 Act of Parliament, foreign IVar and domestic Revolu- 
 tion assail us. if, on the other hand, thc,prcseot system 
 of petticoat is continued, increasing at the same rate 
 as we have seen, and in which it appeara to partake of 
 the great Law of Develapment, which philosophers 
 maintain is, in an equal degree with Gravitation, the 
 necessary principle in the universe — the consequences 
 may be still more awful. Domestic life will become 
 a matter of no ordinary difficulty ; and possibly we will 
 find miserable husbands sucing for a seperate mainten- 
 ance under the Crinoline Clause of a Divorce Bill. 
 The attendance at all places of puble resort will de- 
 crease , and the bankrupt list be vastly augmented. 
 In time, two or three crinolines in the public streets 
 
IRISH MISCELLA^jy. 
 
 259 
 
 will occupy the area of a large crowd, and concussions 
 with onuiibuses inil other vehicles suj,'gest catastro- 
 phes which every well-ordered mind shrinks to con- 
 template. It is needless to accumulate the frijjhtful 
 images which must occur to any intellect projected on 
 this subjert. A total disruption of all tics, political 
 and social will take place wars and revolts will cover the 
 land — all the Arts except those of the Milliner and 
 Iron Founder, will deteriorate ; and except the com. 
 mon sense of humanity adopts means suited to the oc- 
 casion, and tending at once to effect a collapse in this 
 growing danger, the cirilizution of the nineteenth cen- 
 tury will be svTamped, and the world will be enveloded 
 in another chaos — of crinoline. 
 
 THE FOUR HENRYS. 
 
 The following strange tale, translated from the 
 French, contains the account of rather a singular 
 rencountre of four individuals, who made themselves 
 prominent in France during the middle and end of 
 the sixeenth century, and is as follows ; — 
 
 One stormy evening, as the rain fell in torrents, 
 an old woman who lived in a miserable hut, in the 
 forest of St. Germain, and who passed in the sur- 
 rounding country for a kind of witch, heard a loud 
 knocking at her door. She opened it, and a young 
 man on horseback presented himself, and craved 
 hospitalitj'. 
 
 By the dull light of a lamp which she held in her 
 band she perceived him to be a young nobleman. 
 He appeared to be quite young, and his dress de- 
 noted rank. The old woman lighed a tire, and in- 
 quired of the stranger whether he was hungry, and 
 desired food. The appetite oi a youth of sixteen is 
 like his heart at the same age, craving, and not dffi- 
 cult to please, and he immediately accepted her 
 offer. A morsel of cheese and a loaf of black bread 
 from the cupboard was all the old dame could pro- 
 duce. 
 
 ' I have nothing more,' said she to the young 
 nobleman ; ' this is all that your grinding tithes and 
 taxes leaves a poor creature to offer a traveller ; the 
 peasants, too, in this country, call me a witch and 
 sorceress, and make that excuse to their conscien- 
 ces for stealing from me the little that my poor old 
 field produces.' 
 
 ' Ma foi !' said the young man ; 'if ever I become 
 King of France, I will suppress the taxes, and teach 
 the people better.' 
 
 ' God grant it !' replied the old woman.' 
 
 At these words the gentleman drew to the table to 
 commence his repast ; but at the same moment a 
 fresh knock at the door arrested him. 
 
 The old woman opened it, and perceived another 
 horseman drenched with rain, who also beggod for 
 shelter. The same hospitality was instantly granted 
 him, and, on the stranger's entrance, she perceived 
 that the two was young, and, judging from his ap- 
 pearance, of noble descent. 
 
 * What ! is it you, Henry ?' cried one. 
 
 ' Yes, Henry,' replied the other. Both were named 
 Henry. 
 
 The old woman discovered from their conversa- 
 tion that they were of the number of a large hunting 
 party, conducted by the King, Charles IX., which 
 had been dispersed by the storm. 
 
 ■Mother,' said the second comer, 'have you noth- 
 ing better to offer us ?' 
 
 ' Nothing,' replied she. 
 
 ' Then,' said he, ' we will go shares." 
 
 The first Henry demurred, but glancing at the 
 resolute eye and strong frame of the second Henry, 
 said, in somewhat a chagrined tone — 
 
 ' Agreed | we shall share equally.' 
 
 He dared not express his secret motive, but he 
 feared, if not sharing equally, his companion would 
 appropriate the whole. They accordingly sat down 
 on either side of the table, and one had already 
 begun to eat the bread with his dagger, when a third 
 knock was heard at the door. The meeting wa 
 
 indeed singular. It was again a youth, a nobleman, 
 and a Henry. The old woman looked at them with 
 amazement. 
 
 The first comer wished to hide the bread and 
 cheese. The second replaced them on the table, 
 and laid his sword by the side. The third Henry 
 smiled. 
 
 'You do not wish, then, that I should share your 
 supper ?' said he. ' Well ! I can wait : I have a 
 strong stomach.' 
 
 ' The supper,' said the first Henry, < belongs, by 
 right, to the first comer.' 
 
 ' The supper,' said the second, ' belongs to him 
 who knowns best how to defend it*' 
 
 The third Henry became red with anger, and said, 
 haughtily — 
 
 ' Perhaps it belongs to him who knows best how 
 to fight for it.' 
 
 These words were scarcely uttered when the first 
 Henry drew his poignard ; the two others their 
 swords. As they were first beginning the affray 
 they were startled by a fourth knock at the cabin 
 door ; a fourth young man, a fourth nobleman, a 
 fourth Henry is introduced. At the sight of drawn 
 swords he produced his own, and, attaching 
 himself to the weakest party, he joined in the com- 
 bat. 
 
 The old woman, terrified, hid herself, and the 
 weapons struck everything in their reach. The lamp 
 fell down and was extinguished, but they continued 
 to fight in the darkness. The noise of the svpords 
 lasted sometime, then gradually became less, and pt 
 length ceased altogether. The old woman ventured 
 to issue forth from her hiding-place, and, rekindling 
 the lamp, she perceived the four young men 
 stretched on the ground, each having a slight 
 wound. She examined them carefully, and found 
 that fatigue, rather than loss of blood, had overcome 
 them . 
 
 They rose from the ground one after the other, 
 and ashamed of what had transpired in the heat 
 of their passion, they began laughing, and exclaim- 
 ed : 
 
 ' Come, let us now sup together without any more 
 fighting.' 
 
 But when they came to look for their supper, 
 they found it on the ground, all trodden under foot, 
 and stained with blood. Meagre as it was, they re- 
 gretted it. In addition to this, the cabin was de- 
 stroyed, and the old witch, seated in a corner, fixed 
 her pale, red eyes on the four young men. 
 
 ' Why dost thou stare on us thus ?' said the first 
 Henry, who was troubled at her gaze. 
 
 ' I am reading the fates written on your foreheads,' 
 replied she. 
 
 The second Henry commanded her sternly to dis- 
 close them, and the two others laughingly acquies- 
 ced. The old woman replied : 
 
 ' As you have all four met in this cabin, so shall 
 you all meet in a like destiny. As you have 
 trampelled under foot and stained with olood the 
 bread offered you by hospitality, so will you trample 
 under foot and stain with blood the power you might 
 mutually share. As you have d«vasted and impov- 
 erished this cottage, so will you devastate and lay 
 waste France. As you have all four been wounded 
 in the darkness, so you will all four perish by trea- 
 son and a violent death.' 
 
 The four young noblemen could not refrain from 
 laughing at the old woman's prediction. 
 
 These four noblemen were the four heroes of the 
 Ligne — two as its leaders, and two as its ene- 
 mies. 
 
 Henry of Conde : poisened by his wife at Saint 
 Sean d'Angely. 
 
 Henry of Guise : assassinated at Blois, by the 
 Forty-five. 
 
 Henry of Valois: assassinated by Jacques Clement, 
 at Saint Cloud. 
 
 Henry of Bourbon : assassinated at Paris by Ra- 
 vaillac. 
 
 THE SWOOP OF THE NIGHT HAWK. 
 
 It was the gentle hour of gloaming. The beauti- 
 ful Isabel had left the parental cot for an evening 
 ramble. Through a green luno, redolent of honey- 
 suckle, she bent her way to an antique wooden 
 bridge, crossing a rivulet that murmured beneath 
 the baronial towers, distant some half a mile from 
 her humbler, but not less happily dwelling. 
 
 A mendicant who was leaning over the bridge 
 rose as she approached, and in a hoarse voice 
 solicited an alms. Isabel had left her purse at 
 home, or the appeal to her gentle bosom would not 
 perhaps have been made in vain. There was truth, 
 that, in her protestation that she had nothing for 
 the man; but he would not believe it, and as she 
 hurried on to escape his importunity, he followed 
 her with the accelerated step and heightened voice 
 so characteristic of the determined and professional 
 beggar. 
 
 At this juncture a youth, emerging from behind a 
 gnarled oak, and armed with a substantial walking- 
 cane, suddenly placed himself between the maiden 
 and the vagabond, and authoritavely ordered him 
 to go about his business. The fellow, grumbling, 
 sulkily obeyed. 
 
 The young man, taking off his hat, respectfully 
 made an offer to escort Isabel home, and his services 
 were gratefully accepted. He was tall and dark, 
 wearing a profusion of sable ringlets, with mustachios 
 and a tuft. The moon, which was just then rising 
 over the neighboring castle tow-er, beamed full upon 
 his aquiline nose, and was reflected in the lustre of 
 his black eye. 
 
 ' Beautiful moon !' he exclaimed, addressing the 
 planet. ' For ages of ages, on this turbulent world, 
 hast thou shone down, tra..quil and serene as now. 
 And thou wilt still shine on, in thine unchangeable 
 calmness, on hopes as yet unformed, on griefs unfelt, 
 on unimagined fears. Thou, oh! moon, that smilest 
 on the quiet graves, thou wilt one day smile as peace- 
 fully on us, when we are laid in earth, and all carea 
 forgotten I Is it not so?' 
 
 ' Oh, yes !' answered Isabel, with emotion. 
 
 The youth heaved a long-draw sigh. 
 
 ' This is a strange meeting,' he observed, after a 
 pause. ' A few minutes more, and we part — per- 
 chance for ever. In the meanwhile, might I entreat 
 a trifling favor, which would render me supremely 
 happy ?' 
 
 'Really, sir, I — that is — pray, excuse — I could 
 not, indeed !' stammered Isabel, blushing with an 
 intensity actually visible in the moonlight. 
 
 ' Suffer me to imprint but one kiss ' — the maiden 
 shrank back — ' on that delicate hand,' said the 
 stranger. 
 
 'This is indeed a strange request,' she replied. 
 
 ' It is perhaps romantic. But of late years," he 
 continued, ' I have resided in Germany, where the 
 boon which I now venture to crave would be esteemed 
 a life-long happiness. Would you deny so rich a 
 blessing, granted so easily !' 
 
 ' To my preserver ? — that were indeed ungrateful," 
 Isabel answered. And divesting her little hand of 
 its neat kid glove, she presented it to the stranger, 
 who, kneeling, respectfully raised it to his lips. 
 
 At this moment a wild cry for hclf proceeded 
 from a coppice not far distant. The stranger started 
 to his feet, holding the hand of Isabel in his own, 
 and clutching it convulsively as he listened to the 
 heart-piercing shriek. ' Await for me a moment !" 
 he exclaimed ; ' a fellow-creature in distress ! Fare- 
 well, beautiful being, for one instant— farewell- 
 farewell !' And bounding over a gate iino the ad- 
 joing field, he disappeared. 
 
 So had a diamond ring, from Isabel's forefinger. 
 It was the gift of a generous uncle, and worth at 
 least thirty pounds. She never again .'.aw either the 
 stranger or the ring. It is but too probable that the 
 latter was stolen, and that the former was il member 
 of the swell mob. 
 
260 
 
 lUlSU MISCELLANY. 
 
 KATE CONNOR. 
 
 ' Trust mc, your Lordship's opinion \f> unfoumlcd,' 
 said the Lady Helen Grave, and »3 the noblo girl ut- 
 tered the words, her eye brightened and her check 
 tlushetl with (,'reater feeling than high-born fosliion- 
 ablcs generally deem necessary. 
 
 ' Indeed !' exclaimed the Earl, looking up tlio ani- 
 mated feuiures uf his god-daughter, ' and how comes 
 my pretty Helen to know aught of the matter ; mo 
 thinks she has learned more than tlic mistcrics ol hnrp 
 and lute or the soft tunes of the Italian and Spanish 
 tongues ; ' come,' he continued, sit down on the soft 
 Ottoman, and prove the negative to my assertion — 
 that the Irish act only from impulse, not from prin- 
 ciple.' 
 
 ' Uow long can impulse last V enquired the lady, 
 who, like good girl, did as she was bid (which women, 
 by the way, seldom do, unless they have a point to 
 carry,) and seated herself at her god-father's feet in 
 the very spot he wished, playfully resting her rosy 
 cheek on his hand, as she enquired — ' tell me first 
 how long an impulse can last I' 
 
 It is only a momentary feeling, my love, although, 
 acting upon it may embitter a long life,' 
 
 ' But an impulse cannot last for a month, can it ? 
 Then I am quite safe ; and now your Lordship must 
 listen to a '.rue tale, and suffer me to tell it in my 
 own way, brogue and all ; and moreover must hare 
 patience. It is about a peasant maiden, whom I dear- 
 ly love — ay, and respect too, and whenever I think of 
 sweet Kate Connor, I bless God that the aristoeacy 
 ol virtue (if I dare use such a phrase) may be found 
 in all lustre in an Irish cabin. 
 
 • It was one of the most chill of November days, the 
 streets and houses filled with fog, and the few strag- 
 glers in the square , in their dark clothes, looking like 
 dirty demons in a smoky pantomime that papa and 
 myself, at that outre season, when every body is out to 
 tcwn, arrived at Brighton ; he had been summoned on 
 business, and 1 preferred acompanying him to remain- 
 ing on the coast alone. ' Not at home to any one,' 
 where the orders issued, when we sat down to dinner. 
 The cloth had been removed, and papa was occupy- 
 ing himself in looking over some papers ; from his 
 occasional frown, I francied they were not of the most 
 agreeable nature. At lust I went to my harp, and 
 played one of the airs of my country, of which I knew 
 he was particularly fond. He soon left his seat, and 
 kissing my forehead with much tenderness, said — 'that 
 strain is too melancholy for me just now, Helen, for 
 I have received no very pleasant news from my Irish 
 agent.' I expressed my sincere sorrow at the circum- 
 stance, and ventured to some enquiries as to the intel- 
 ligence that had arrived. ' I cannot understand it,' 
 he said ; ' when we resided there, it was only from the 
 papers that I heard of the ' dreadful murders," ' horri- 
 ble outrages,' and ' malicious burnings.' All round 
 us was peace and tranquility ; my rents were as punc- 
 tually paid as in England, for in both countries a ten- 
 ant — ye.<,and a good tenant too — may bo sometimes in 
 arrear. I made allowances for the national character of 
 the people, and while I admired the contented and 
 happy faces that smiled joyously over potatoes and 
 milk as if the board had been covereed with a feast of 
 vension, I endeavoured to make them.desirc more, and 
 then sought to attach them to me by supplying their 
 new wants,' 
 
 ' And, dear sir, you succeeded,' I said. ' Never 
 were hearts more grateful — never were tcara more 
 sincere, than when we left tbemto the care of that dis- 
 agreeable, illlooking agent.' 
 
 ' Hold, Lady Mal-a-pert,' interrupted my father 
 sternly : I selected Mr. O'Brien ; you can know noth- 
 ing as to his qualification. I believe him to be an 
 upright, but I tear me, a stem man ; and! apprehend 
 he has been made the tool of a party.' 
 
 ■ Dear papa, I wish you would again visit the old 
 castle. A winter amongst my native mountains would 
 afi'ord me more gratification than the most successful 
 season in London.' &ly father smiled and shook his 
 head. ' The rents are now so difficult to collect, that 
 ]|fear , He paused, and then added abruptly, ' It 
 
 is very cxtraordnary, often as I menlioncd it to O'Brien, 
 that 1 can reitiv c no information of the Connors. You 
 have written frequently to your poor nurse, and she 
 must have leceivcil the letters — I send them over with 
 my own, and they have been ucknowleilged !' He hud 
 scarcely finished this sentence, when w.> heanl the por- 
 ter in loud remonstrance with a female, who endeavor- 
 ed to force her wny through the hall. I half opened 
 the library door, where wo were sitting, to ascertain 
 the cause of the interruption. ' Ah, then, sure ye 
 wouldn't have the heart to turn a )ioor eraytliur from 
 the door — that's come sich a way jist to spake tin 
 words to his Lordship's glory. And don't tell mc that 
 my Lady Ililin wouldn't see me, and she to 
 the fore.' It was enough ; I knew the voice of my 
 nurse's daughter, and would, 1 do think, .lave kissed 
 her with all my heart, but she fell on her knees, and 
 clasping my hand firmly between hers, exclaimed, 
 while the tears rolled down her cheeks and sobs almost 
 choked her utterance — ' Holy Mary ! Thank God ! 
 — 'Tis herself sure ! — tliough so beautiful ! — and no 
 ways proud ! — and I will have justice !' And then, 
 in a subdued voice, she added — ' Praise to the Lord ! 
 — his care never left mc — and I would die contint this 
 minute — only for you, mother dear ! — yourself only — 
 
 and .' Our powdered knaves, I perceived, 
 
 smiled and sneered, when they saw Kate Connor s'-at- 
 ed that evening by my side — and my father, (heaven 
 bless him for it !) opposite to us, in his great arm-chair, 
 listening to the story that Kate had to unfold. 
 
 ' Whin yes left us we all said that the winter was 
 come in arncst, and that the summer was gone for 
 ever. Well, my Lord, we struv to plase the agint,why 
 not ■? sure he was the master ye set over us ! — but it 
 doesn't become the likes o'me, nor it wouldn't be man- 
 ners, to turn my tongue agin him, and made as good 
 asa jintleman, to be sure, by ye'r lordship's noiice — 
 which the whole counthry knew he was not afore — 
 either by birth or breeding. Well, my lady, if ye 
 put a sod o' turf— saving yer presence— in a goold dish 
 it's only a turf still— and he must ha' been ould Nick's 
 born child— (Lord save us '.) whin your honor's smile 
 couldn't brighten him — audit's the truth I'm tolling 
 and no lie. First of all, the allowance to my mother 
 was stopped for damage the pig did to the new hedges 
 — and thin we were forced to give our best fowl to 
 Mr. O'Brien, because the goat, and the crathur without 
 a tooth ! they said, skinned the trees — thent he priest 
 (yer Lordship minds Father Lavery)— and the agint 
 quarrelled, and so — out o' spite— he set up a school — 
 and would make all the children go to larn there — and 
 then the priest hindered — and to be sure we stud by the 
 church — and so there was nothin' but fighting, and the 
 boys gave over work, seeing the tiptops didn't care 
 how things went — only abusing each other. But it 
 isn't that I should be bothering your kind honours 
 wid. My brother, near two years agone, picked up 
 with the hoith of bad company— God knows how — 
 and got above us all, so grandlike, wearing a new 
 coat and a watch, and a jewil ring ! so — whin he got 
 the time o' day in his pocket, he wouldn't look at the 
 same side of the wav we wint. Well, lady dear, this 
 struck to my mothers heart— yet it was only the be- 
 ginning of trouble — he was found in the dead o'night', 
 confined poor Kate, her voice trembling—' but ye hard 
 it all — 'twas all in the papers— and he was sent bcyaut 
 the seas. Och ! many's the night we have spent crying, 
 to think of that shame ! or on our bare bended knees 
 praying that God might turn his heart. Well my lady, 
 upon that Mr. O'Biien made no more ado — but said 
 wo were a seditious family, and that the cabin — the 
 nate little cabin ye gave to my mother — was to go to 
 the ganger.' 
 
 • He did not dare to say that !' interrupted my 
 father proudly — 'ho did not dare to use my name to 
 a falsehood.' 
 
 ' The -word — the yery word I spoke,' exclaimed 
 Kate. ' Mother,' says I, 'his lordship would never 
 take back, for the sin of the son, what he gave to 
 the mother ! Sure it was hard upon her grey hairs 
 to see her own boy brought to shame, without being 
 turned out of her little place when the snow was on 
 
 the ground, in the cold night, when no one was 
 stirring, to Kuy, God nave you. I remember it well; 
 he would not suffer us to take so much as a blanket, 
 becau.se the bits of things were to be canted the 
 next morning, to pay the rint of a field which my 
 brother took, but never worked. My poor mother 
 cried like a babby, and happing the ould grey cat, 
 that your ladyship garc her for a token, when it 
 was a small kit, in her apron, we set off us well as 
 we could for Mrs, Cassidy's farm. It was more 
 than two miles from us, and the snow drifted; and, 
 oh ! but sorrow wakens a body, and my piother 
 foundered like, and couldn't walk, so I covered her 
 over, to wait till she rested a bit, and sure your 
 token, my lady, kept her warm, for the baste had 
 the sense almost of a Christian. Well, I was praying 
 for God to direct us for the best — (but, may be, I'm 
 tiring your honors) — when, as if from heaven, up 
 drives Harney, and 
 
 ' Who is liarncy, Kate ?' 
 
 ' I wish, my dear lord, you could have seen Kate 
 Connor, when I asked that question — the way-worn 
 girl looked absolutely beautiful. I must tell you, 
 that she had exchanged, by my desire, her tattered 
 gown and travel-stained habiliments, for a smart 
 dress of my waiting-maid's — which, if it were not 
 correctly put on, looked, to my taste, all the better. 
 Her face was pale, but her fine, dark, intelligent 
 eyes gave it much and varied expression; her beau- 
 tiful hair — even Lafont's trim cap eould not keep it 
 within proper bounds — actuated, probably, by for- 
 mer bad habits, came straying (or, as she would call 
 it, streeling) down her neck, and her mobile mouth 
 was garnished with teeth which many a duchess 
 would envy ; she was sitting on a low seat, her 
 crossed hands resting on her knees, and was going 
 through her narrative in as straightforward a man- 
 ner as could be expected; but my unfortunate ques- 
 tion as to the identity of Barney put her out; — face, 
 forehead, neck, were crimsoned in an instant; papa 
 turned away hie head to smile, and I blushed from 
 pure sympathy. 
 
 ' Barney — is Barney — Cassidy — my lady," (she 
 replied at length, rolling up Lafont's flounce in lieu 
 of her apron) — and a great, true friend of — of — my 
 mother's ' 
 
 ' And of yours also, I suspect, Kate,' said my 
 father. 
 
 ' We were neighbor's children, plase your honor- 
 able lordship, and only natural if we had a — 
 frindley ' 
 
 ' Love for each other,' said my lordly papa; for 
 once condescending to banter. 
 
 ' It would be far from the likes o' me to contra- 
 dict yer honor,' she stammered forth at length. 
 
 ' Go on with your story,' said I gravely. 
 
 'I'm thinking, my lord, and my lady, I left off 
 in the snow — O, no — he was come up with the ear: 
 — well, to be sure, he took us to his mother's house; 
 and oh ! my lady, but it's in the walls of the poor 
 cabins ye find hearts ! — not that I'm down-running 
 the gentry, who, to be sure, knows better manners; 
 but it's a great blessing to the traveller to have a 
 warm fire, and dry lodgings, and share of whatevcr's 
 going — all for the love of God — and 'ceadmile 
 failte ' with it. Well, to be sure, they never looked 
 to our property, and Barney thought to persuade 
 me to make my mother his mother, and never 
 heeded the disgrace that had come to the family, 
 and knowing his heart was set upon me, his mother 
 did the same, and my own mother too, the erarhcr ! 
 wanted me settled: well, they all cried and wished 
 it done oiT at once, and it was a sore trial that. 
 'Barney,' says I, 'let go my hand — hould yer whisht 
 all o' ye, for the blessed Virgin's sake, and don't be 
 making me mad entirely,' — and I seemed to gain 
 strength, though my heart was bursting. 
 
 ' Look,' says I, ' bitter wrong has been done us — 
 but no matter; I know our honorable landlord had 
 neither act nor part in it — how could he ? and my 
 mind misgives, that my lady has often written to 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 2(il 
 
 you, mother; for it isn't in her to 
 forgot ould friends ; but I'll tell 
 ye what I'll do — there's nobody 
 we know, Ijarring his reverence, 
 and the sehool-master could tell 
 the right of it to his honor's glory 
 upon paper ; his riverence would 
 not meddle nor make in it, and 
 the school-master 's a friend of the 
 agent's; so ye sec, dears, I'll jist 
 go fair and asy oil" to London my- 
 self, and see his lordship, and 
 make him sinsible; — and, before I 
 could say my say, they all — all but 
 Barney — set up such a scornful 
 laugh at me, as never was heard. 
 'She's mad,' says one — 'she's a 
 fool,' says another — ' where's the 
 money to pay your expenccs ? ' 
 says a third, ' and how could you 
 find your way, that doesn't know 
 a step of the road, even to Dub- 
 lin ? ' says a fourth. Well, I 
 waited till they were all done, 
 and then took the thing quietly. 
 '1 don't think," says I, ' there's "^ 
 
 neither madness or folly in trying 
 to get ones own again. As to 
 the money, it's but a little of that I want, 
 for I have the use of my limbs and can walk ; 
 and it'ill go hard if one of ye's wont lend me a 
 pound, or maybe thirty shillings — and no one will 
 lose by Kate Connor, to the value of a brass farth- 
 ing, and as to not knowing the road, sure I've a 
 tongue in my head, and if I hadn't, the great God 
 that taches the innocent swallows their way over 
 the salt seas, will do as much for a poor girl who 
 puts all her trust in him.' ' My heart's against it,' 
 said Barney, ' but she's in the right;' and then he 
 wanted to persuade me to go before the priest with 
 him ; 'but no,' said I, ' I'll never do that till I find 
 a justice — I'll never bring forth shame and poverty 
 to an honest boy's hearthstone. I'll not be tiring 
 yer noble honors any longer with the sorrow, and 
 all that, when I left them. They'd have forced me 
 to take more than thirty shillings — God knows huw 
 they raised that same — but I thought it enough, and 
 by the time I reached Dublin there was eight of it 
 gone, small way the rest lasted, and I was ill three 
 days from the sea in Liverpool. Oh, when I got a 
 good piece of the way — when my b its of rags were 
 all sold, my feet bare and bleeding, and the doors 
 of the sweet white cottages shut against me, and I 
 was tould 'to go to my parish,' thin, thin — I felt I 
 was in the land of the cold-hearted stranger. Oh ! 
 the English are a fine honest people, but noways 
 tinder. Well, ray lord, the hardest temptation I 
 had at all (and here Lady Helen looked up into her 
 godfather's face with a suplicating eye, and pressed 
 her small white hand aifecdonatcly upon his arm, 
 as if to rivet his most earnest attention) was when 1 
 was silting crying by the road side, for I was tired 
 and hungry, and who, of all the birds in the air, 
 drives up in a sort of a cart, but Mr. O'llay, the 
 great pig merchant, from a mile beyant our place. 
 Well, to be sure, it was he wasn't surprised when 
 he seen me. • Come back with me, Kate, honey !' 
 says he, ' I'm going straight home, and I'll free 
 your journey; when ye return, I'll let the boy ye 
 know have a nate little cabin I've got to let, for 
 (he was plaised so say) you deserve it;' but I thought 
 I'd persevere to the end; so (God bless him for it) he 
 had ten shillings, seeing he was to receive the mo- 
 ney for the pigs he had sold, at the next tovm; but 
 what he had he gave me, that brought me the rest of 
 the journey, and if I hadn't much comfort by the 
 •way, sure I had hope — and that's God's own bless- 
 ing to the sorrowful; and now, here I am, asking 
 justice in the name of the widow and the oq)hin, 
 that have been wronged by that black-hearted man; 
 
 PILGRIMS ENTEKTAINLD Al ROME 
 
 and, sure as there's light in heaven, in his garden 
 the nettle and the hemlock will soon grow in place 
 of the sweet roses; and when he lies in his bed on 
 
 his dying day, the just and holy God ' My 
 
 father here interrupted, and in a calm, firm voice, re- 
 minded her, that before him she must not indulge 
 in invective. I humbly ask your honor's pardon,' 
 said the poor girl; 'I leave it all now just to God 
 and yer honor, and shame upon me that forgot to 
 power upon you, my lady, the blessings the ould 
 mother of me sent you — 'Full and plenty may you 
 ever know,' said she from her heart, the crathur ! 
 'may the sun never be too hot, or the snow too 
 cold for you ; may you live in honor, and die in 
 happiness; and in the end, may heaven be your 
 bed.' 
 
 ' And now, my dear lord,' continued the Lady 
 Helen, ' tell me: if a fair English maiden, with soft 
 blue eyes and delicate accent, had thus suffered — if, 
 driven from her beloved home, with a helpless 
 parent, she had refused the hand of the man she 
 loved, because she would not bring poverty to his 
 dwelling — if she had undertaken a journey to a 
 foreign land, suffered scorn and starvation, been 
 tempted to return; but until her object was accom- 
 plished, until justice was done to her parent, resist- 
 ed that temptation, would you say she acted from 
 impulse or principle ?' 
 
 ' I say,' replied the old gentleman, answering his 
 goddaughter's winning smile, 'that you are a saucy 
 gipsey, to catch me this way: fine times, indeed, 
 when a pretty lass of eighteen talks down a man o( 
 si.xty ! But tell me tha result ?' 
 
 ' Instead of returning to Brighton, my father, 
 without apprising our worthy agent, in three days 
 arranged for our visiting dear Ireland. Only think 
 how delightful, so romantic, and so useful, too; 
 Kate, you cannot imagine how lovely she looked, 
 she quite eclipsed Lafont. Then her exclamations 
 of delight were so new, so curious — nothing so 
 original to be met with, even at the soirees of the 
 literati. There you may watch for a month without 
 hearing a single thing worth remembering ; but 
 Kate's remarks were so shrewd, so mixed with ob- 
 servation and simplicity, that every idea was worth 
 noting. I was so pleased with the prospect of the 
 meeting — the discomfiture of the agent, the joy of 
 the lovers, and the wedding— (all stories that end 
 properly, end in that way, you know)— that I did \ hiinsclf'asi'cnd 
 not even request to spend a day in Bath. We hired : entrance to St. 
 
 his fuzzy red hair sticking out all 
 round his dandy hat, like a burn- 
 ing furze bush, and his vulgar face 
 as dirty as if it had not been wash- 
 ed for a month. lie was lording it 
 over some half-naked creatures, 
 who were breaking stones, but 
 who, despite his presence, ceased 
 working as the carriage approach- 
 ed. 'There's himself,' muttered 
 Kate. We stopped, and I shall 
 never forget the appalled look of 
 O'Brien when my father put his 
 head out of the window. Cruik- 
 shank should have seen it. He 
 could not utter a single sentence 
 ■ — many of the poor men also re- 
 cognized us, and, as we nodded and 
 spoke to some we recognized 
 amongst them, shouted so loudly 
 for fair joy, that the horses galloped 
 on — not before, however, the tri- 
 umphant Catherine, almost throwing 
 
 herself out, exclaimed: 'And I'm 
 
 ^ here, Mr. O'Brien, in the same «oach 
 
 with my lord and my lady, and now 
 we'll have justice;' at which my 
 father was very angry, and I was 
 equally delighted. It was worth a king's ran- 
 som to see the happiness of the united families of the 
 Connors and Cassidys — the grey cat, even, purred with 
 satisfaction: then such a wedding ! Only fancy, my 
 dear lord, my being bridesmaid! dancing an Irish jig 
 on an earthen floor. Ye exquisites and exclusives, 
 how would you receive the Lady Helen Graves, if this 
 were known at Almack's. From what my father saw 
 and heard, when he used his own eyes and ears for the 
 purpose, he resolved to reside six months out of the 
 twelve at Castle Graves. You can scarcely imagine 
 how well we got on; the people are sometimes a little 
 obstinate; in the matter of smoke — and now and then 
 an old dunghill too near the door — and, as they love 
 liberty themselves, do not much care to confine their 
 pigs. But these are only trifles. I have my own 
 school on my own plan, which I will explain to you 
 another time; and now will only tell you, that it is 
 visited by both clergymen and priests, and I only wish 
 that all our absentees would follow our example; and 
 then, my dear godpapa, the Irish would have good 
 impulses and act upon right principles. 
 
 PILGRIMS AT ROME. 
 
 It was formerly the practice during the jubilee at 
 Rome for pilgrims who had returned from Palestine 
 to be entertained at a feast, and to be attended by 
 the Pope and the college of cardinals. 
 
 On this occasion the Pope was divested of all the 
 ensigns of his dignity. He bore a dish, and olTered 
 it respectfully to the pilgrim diners. The cardinals 
 were simply clothed, and actually did the waiters' 
 work at the table, placing and removing the dishes, 
 and paying every attention to the guests. 
 
 But the banquet was rather typical than real. It 
 was a sacred feast, not a convivial dinner. The 
 pilgrims admitted to it were selected from the pooi- 
 est and humblest class, their feet washed by bishops 
 and Roman barons, dressed as penitents. 
 
 The pilgrims received certain chaplcts and holy 
 medals, including the ' agnus Dei.' Clement Y. 
 ordained that the jubilee should be held every hun- 
 dreth year. Urban VI. reduced the period to thirty- 
 three years. Boniface IX. celebrated the jubilee 
 every ninth year. Paul H. and Se.xtus IV. fixed it 
 at twenty-five years ; but these were exceptions. 
 The ceremonies of the jubilee arc still exceedinj;Iy 
 interesting to all who visit Rome at that period. An 
 apostolic sub-deacon repeats in Latin the bull of the 
 jubilee before the court of Rome ; another sul)- 
 deacon repeats the same in Italian before the pco- 
 I)le. Soon after twelve trumpets are sounded ; the 
 bells ring forth a merrj' pual, and the St. .\ngelo 
 shakes that old castle to its base. On the 10th of 
 December, all the regular and secular clergy go in 
 procession to St. Peter's from the Vacticaii. They 
 find the door shut. The Pope, the cardinalj, the 
 bishops, clothed in white, with mitres on their 
 heads, assemble under the Swiss portico. There 
 the Pope nominates three cardinals to open the doors 
 of St. John of Lateran, St. Mary, and St. Paul. He 
 I throne, erected before the chief 
 Peter's. He is jiresented with a 
 trikes three tin 
 
 a carriage in Dublin, and just on theverge of papa's golden hammer, with which 1 
 
 estate, saw Mr. O'Brien, his hands in his pockets, i ?" ^'"^ '}""'• T>'\"^:, ' V^''" """ "' ""i'"-' S^"-"* ."' 
 
 "^ 1 justice; to which the choir appropriately respond 
 
262 
 
 IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 THE LAND OF MV BIRTH. 
 
 All '■ Ml uic not of tt cloudliss sky, 
 
 OIn ixTlliiuc bri'»tlilii)5 air; 
 Our own »w«t lii-lUn nre ofcniernld dj-f, 
 
 Aud, oh, m>- hcurt is thvre! 
 
 I love our own soft roue's glow, 
 And our graceful slmnirook'tt green; 
 
 Uorc than the myrtle's shining auow, 
 Or Dahlia's dazzling sheen. 
 
 Though famed Itulin's shores mny bo 
 Tile laud of liung and mirth, 
 
 One spot is dearer fur to mo — 
 The island of my birth! 
 
 THE BOCWOOD FIRE. 
 
 Several years ago there appeared in an Irish news- 
 paper the first fitt or canto of a poem, entitled ' The 
 Monks of Kilcrea.' Thout;h short and fragmentary, 
 it excited much notice at the time both in Ireland and 
 England. A yrench genileman, M. le Chevalier de 
 Cliaielain, was so struck by iha beamy of the poetry 
 that he immediately made a translation of it, and, 
 through the editor of the new.-paper, transmitted it to 
 the author, who remained, and sidl remains, unknown. 
 Afterwards, at long intervals, a second and a third 
 canto saw the light ; aud notwithstanding several bad 
 rhymes, implyiui; an almost total want of acquaintance 
 with poetry as an art, and a very bad ear besides, dis- 
 plavcd so much inveniion, so much power of imagina- 
 tion, so lich and vivid a fancy, and so deep a sympathy 
 for all that is beauiiful in nature, that had the author 
 come before the public in a poetical age, he would 
 have earned for himself a high reputation. But when 
 all the cantos were collected and published by Mr. 
 M'Glashan, in Dublin, ihe volume, to borrow David 
 Hume's celebrated phrase, seems to have fallen still- 
 born from the press. 
 
 The French translator of the first canto appears 
 fully determined, however, that our Celtic fellow- 
 countryman shall not be sutl'ered to drop quietly into 
 oblivion. lie has, therefore, made a version of the 
 whole poem, which has just been published. M. dc 
 Cbatelain is well know n as a translator ; we ourselves 
 have spoken of his merits more than once — his Gay 
 and Chaucer are popular both in England and on the 
 continent; but nothing he had previously doneVcould 
 have prepared the public for what he has now accom- 
 plished in 'The Monks of Kilcrea.' 
 
 The scene of the poem is laid far back in history, 
 when the house of Lancaster fought its brilliant bat- 
 tles on the continent, and almost broke up the founda- 
 tions of English society, in order to precipitate half the 
 nation upon France. Ireland, at that time, was a 
 social and political chaos. In its capital, the Saxon 
 reigned predominant ; Norman barons possessed castles 
 here and there throughout the land, while large dis- 
 tricts, we might almost say provinces, remained in the 
 hands of native chiefs, engaged in perpetual dissen- 
 sions, and making vay, by mutual slaughter, for the 
 triumph of the common foe. In many parts, the 
 country was little better than a wilderness ; the bogs 
 were undrained ; livtrs were not .spanned by bridges ; 
 the mountains and glens were densely overgrown with 
 forest ; and wild beasts, especially wolves, visited the 
 glimpses of the moon, making night hideous. Monas- 
 teries in such an age were not only an advantage, but 
 a necessity. They were created by society because 
 society wanted th m ; they were to our forefathers what 
 the caravansary is to travellers in the East — places 
 where the wayworn, the houseless, the poor, the 
 wretched, could always find sustenance and shelter. 
 To preserve them from becoming scenes of disorder 
 and bloodshed, they were all converted into places of 
 sanctuary, where an unseen, mysterious power — the 
 power of the church — watched over host and guest, over 
 monk and pilgrim, and made it criminal, ooder any 
 circumstances, to break the peace. 
 
 Three monks sat by a bogwood fire in the shrine of 
 St. Bridget, in a small chamber commanding the door 
 of the monastery. Without raved the storm ; the rain 
 fell in torrents, then ceased suddenly, and the shattered 
 clouds Hying before the wind alternately disclosed and 
 
 concealed the moon. Ever and anon the convent-bell 
 threw forth its music on the night air, as a signal to 
 wayfarers that there was a place of refuge at hand. 
 The light of a lamp and of the blazing lire stennicd 
 through the wicket, directing and comforting all who 
 approached. Wilhin sat the three monks with a well- 
 covered table before them, food of a substantial kind, 
 and tlagona of foreign wine, to refresh the hun^^ry and 
 exhausted traveller. As the night wore on, the monks 
 nodded at each other, and the golden skirts of dreams 
 began to flutter about their fancies. Suddenly there 
 came a tapping, or rather rapping, at the convent door, 
 which, having been opened by one of the brothers, ad- 
 mitted a man somewhat advanced in life, but of colos- 
 sal dimensions and fierce aspect. His countenance 
 and hearing, bis coinple.^ion and light hair, proved him 
 to be a Saxon, even before his language had revealed 
 the fact. It was evident that he cared little among 
 the men of what race he might find himself; his iron 
 frame and ready hand, familiar what the sword-hilt, 
 rendered him, in his own estimation, the master every- 
 where of his destiny. Ho accepted, with rough cour- 
 tesy, the hospitality of the monastery, and was en- 
 gaged in expressing his thanks, when another knock 
 was heard at the wicket, and a second stranger, a 
 smirking Gleeman, came bowing towards the good 
 things on the board. But the circle of that night's 
 guests was not yet complete ; a third knock, loud and 
 imperative, was heard, and one of the gentle brothers 
 soon led in the new-comer, a Celtic outlaw, tall and 
 strong, with a fell of black hair tinged with gray. He 
 glared like a wolf upon the Saxon ; but, remembering 
 
 three monks, with cowls drawn forward over thei 
 faces, n,s if to keep out the night-air, are distributing 
 the pa.itry and pouring out iho red wine ; the Saxon, 
 the (ilceinan, and the Kappuree, already exhilarated, 
 aie beginning lo entertain less objection to each other's 
 company. Accordingly, when the request is made by 
 the monks, the Saxon, as the first guest, breaks abrupt- 
 ly into the history of his life. 
 
 The Celtic poet, who had obviously nerer been in 
 Kent, yet selects that beautiful county to bo the scene 
 of his first narrative. The hero, a stout yeoman, is 
 left in early youth master of his own fortunes, with a 
 lovely sister to watch over, and property more than 
 suflicient for the wants of both. Of course, Alice had 
 a lover, because no poem, written in whatever age, or 
 laid in whatever scene, is thought complete wiihont 
 one. Poetry is the ark in this respect — all animals 
 enter it in pairs. Well, the Saxon's sister, Alice, had 
 a lover, a youth of noble lineage, handsome, wealthy, 
 and besides — which was rare in those days — a scholar. 
 Through some perversity of nature, jealousy of bis 
 rank, or still more of his superiority in knowledge, 
 and all gentlemanly acquirements, the brother hated 
 this youth; and one day, while heated with wine, 
 meeting him accidentally in a wood, he attacked, and 
 would have slain him. Fortune, which is not always 
 unjust, punished the aggressor, who appeared in the 
 combat to be mortally wounded. The lover fled, and 
 was never more heard of; and Alice, whilst she nnrscd 
 her brother with the deepest solicitude and affection, 
 still mourned secretly for him who had won her heart. 
 The wounded man recovered, the sister died. liemorse 
 
 where he was, took the proft'ered wine-cup, and having tj,en came upon the Saxon, who felt that by the sword 
 drained it to the bottom, sat down quietly by the blaz- I 
 ing fire. 
 
 Unfortunately, both poets and prose writers, when 
 they desire to find a pretext for relating a certain 
 number of stories, appear to be extremely limited in 
 the choice of a plan. Boccaccio has thrown together 
 a number of persons who have fled from the great city 
 to escape the plague; Chaucer, with superior ingenuity, 
 marshals a number of pilgrims proceeding towards 
 Canterbury, and makes them tell stories at the sugges- 
 tion of a jolly host, to lessen the tedium of the way ; 
 bat the author of the ' Arabian Knights,' most artistic 
 of all, contrives a situation in which the story-teller 
 exercises her genius for the preservation of her own 
 life. When you have laid down these three platforms, 
 it seems easy to perceive that all future relaters of 
 stories must adopt some scheme bearing a resemblance 
 more or less strinking to one of them. The author of 
 'The Monks of Kilcrea' has been as felicitous in his 
 conceptions as any among the thousand and one imi- 
 tators of ' The Thousand and One Nights.' The 
 monks sitting before the bogwood fire, having long 
 ago exhausted all topics of conversation among them- 
 selves, ar.d not knowing exactly how to entertain the 
 strangers, hit upon the bright idea of making the latter 
 at once amuse each other and them ; they invite them 
 to describe their advenutres, and explain by what 
 chance they were conducted on that wild and stormy 
 
 night to St. Bridget's shrine. 
 
 Who docs not know that the bare skeleton of a man, 
 
 stripped of all his muscles and integuments, is as well 
 
 calculated to give you an idea of that man's form and 
 
 features, as the outline of a story to present a true con- 
 ception of the manner in which that story has been 
 
 narrated by its inventor? When the business is not 
 
 only to abridge but to translate poetry into prose, the 
 
 difticulty of the task is more than doubled. The poet 
 
 is a magician, whose pencil, dipped all the colors of the 
 
 rainbow, paints ratlier than tells his story. He floods 
 
 your fancy with imagery ; he agitates your breast, he 
 
 stirs your deepest passions and eraoiions, and thus, if 
 
 need be, conceals from you the improbabilities or im- 
 perfections of his tale. When prose undertakes to 
 
 deal with the same events and incidents, it immediately 
 
 perceives the necessity of creating a consistent whole, 
 
 of accounting for what it relates, of being reasonable, 
 
 and at limes even philosophical. We find ourselves 
 
 in the midst of these difiiculties at the present moment. 
 
 The bogwood fire is burning brightly before us ; the 
 
 of another he had slain the only one that had remained 
 to him of his kinderd. 
 
 A few words eulEce my talc to close, 
 And those shall now be briefly spoken : 
 In Hepton Church a snow-white rose 
 Above a green grave drooping grows, 
 Where sleeps at length a young heart broken, 
 There Alice lies, her gentle breast 
 And wounded spirit both at rest. 
 I left that place. 
 
 King Henry V„ just then engaged in the prelimin- 
 aries to Agincourt, the Saxon, having wasted all his 
 fortune, joined the heroe's forces, and enjoyed the ex- 
 citement of the French war. Performed some act of 
 distinguished bravery, a nobleman in Henry's army, 
 whose retainer he had become, bestowed on him lands 
 in Ireland. On the night when the three monks sat by 
 the bogwood fire, he had been proceeding on some 
 aflfair of importance to Cork. 
 
 'Twns evening when T left Mncroom, 
 
 And when I reached steep Carrig's ford, 
 
 Night had Hung o'er it all its gloom. 
 
 And the tierce waters rushed and roared, 
 
 As if a torrent through them poured. 
 
 Though white the foam that swept along. 
 
 The river deep, the current strong, 
 
 I little cared for foam or'tide 
 
 When there was need for speed to ride, 
 
 And spurred my horse in careless mood 
 
 To cross that rough and swollen flood ; 
 
 And so, despite both start and shiver, 
 
 I dashed him reckless at the river. 
 
 With drooping head and quivering flank. 
 
 In wild dismay twice back he shrank; 
 
 But still, with spur, and voice, and rein, 
 
 I wheeled him to its brink again; 
 
 And rearing madly, with wild bound, 
 
 He plunged amid the waters round. 
 
 And swam, right through the hissing strife 
 
 Of wind and wave, the stream, for life. 
 
 Short was the struggle; like to foes, 
 
 Across our course the billows rose. 
 
 In vain I strove to stem their wrath, 
 
 Or onwards hold my fearful path — 
 
 Like floating foam, as if in play, 
 
 They swept us dowu the stream away, 
 
 Till, striking 'gainst a rock, my horse 
 
 Sunk in his depths, and I was left 
 
 To buffet the dark rushing tide. 
 
 Almost of sense and strength bereft. 
 Here the poet enters into a speculation on the pleas- 
 ures of drowning. But our Saxon friend had so much 
 upon his conscience that he could not enjoy the dreamy 
 pleasure of entering Nibban by water. He straggles 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 2G3 
 
 desperately, and prayed to his sister 119 to a aaint, for 
 he was a •;ood Catholic, conjuring her to come to his 
 aid. She came — but her appearance we must describe 
 in the poet's own language : 
 
 'Twue at the moment when, as lost, 
 
 My liauds to heaven I Irniitic tof^sed, 
 
 Then wildly in my heart I prayed, 
 
 Oroslled on Alice to my aid; 
 
 And instant throuj;h the gloom of night 
 
 Flashed on the wa\es a sudden light, 
 
 And on the dark and rushing Hood 
 
 The sainted spirit by me stood. 
 
 Ay, start— I saw her, by Saint Jobu, 
 
 As plainly as I see ye now. 
 
 And light oround about her shone. 
 
 Like glory from our Ladye's brow ! 
 
 And at her presence instant died 
 
 The bowl of wind and hiss of tide; 
 
 And soon, I know not in what way, 
 
 Upon the bank I punting lay. 
 
 As if her saving band had bore 
 
 Safe through the waters to the shore: 
 
 Yet when I raised my reeling head 
 
 To had and bless her, she was fled I 
 
 And 'mid the gloom that round me fell, 
 
 'Twns then 1 heard a distant bell : 
 
 And weak and faint, I trotted on, 
 
 Through bog and brake, until I won 
 
 Your abbey gate. My tale is done. 
 The conclusion of the Saxon's tale provides for the 
 reader an unexpected and somewhat startling pleasure. 
 From before the bogwoodfire, one of the monks rises, 
 throws back his cowl, and reveals himself to the as- 
 tonished traveller as the lover of Alice and his former 
 foe. The hands that never met in friendship before 
 were clasped firmly now ; while the monk, with deep 
 delight, sat on Walter's breast, returning thanks to 
 Heaven that he had not been a murderer. This inci- 
 dent is managed by the poet with singular skill and 
 tenderness. To complete the picture, the spirit of Alice 
 floats into the chamber, and sheds a benign influence 
 on the souls of the reconciled foes. 
 
 When this tale is ended, the Gleeman is invited to 
 contribute his share to the night's entertainment. Our 
 author does not soar high in search of his characters. 
 The Gleeman has been a tapster in Dublin, where he 
 has learned tales and legends without end. By way 
 of preface to his narrative, he sketches slightly his own 
 life, and supplies an explanation of his roguish air, 
 with the expression of reckless daring which lurks in 
 his countenance. His tale begins in a highly original 
 and striking manner ; the characters are admirably 
 contrasted, and their peculiarities brought out with ex- 
 traordinary felicity ; the gorgeous scenery of Ireland 
 in the darkest and wildest period of its history, is like- 
 wise spread out before the fancy with masterly power. 
 No landscape-painter could equal in composition or 
 coloring the poet's vivid delineations. Mountains, 
 glens, cataracts, lakes, castles frowning in feudal 
 grandeur from all but inaccessible clifFs, sweep in be- 
 wildering panorama before the mind's eye, now envel- 
 oped in mist, and now bathed in golden sunshine. 
 Unluckily for our appreciation of the story, the ma- 
 chinery of the fairy system is introduced. This is a 
 grave error in a poet of the nineteenth century. How- 
 ever beautiful they may have been, the fairies have now 
 vanished from the face of the earth, and that, too, more 
 completely than oreads, dryads, or naiads. Of this 
 the reader becomes convinced when, in the Gleeman's 
 story, he passes from the real to the supernatural. Up 
 to that fatal point of transition, his interest is kept 
 painfully alive ; he sympathises with the lovers, he 
 detests the tyrant, he is even recoinciled by the warmth 
 and hurry of his feelings to the sounds of celestial 
 music which burst from time to time over the enchanted 
 glen. But, then, suddenly, like a torch in a stormy 
 night, the inspiration is extinguished, and we drag 
 ourselves languidly on to the indeiinile conclusion. 
 
 When we escape from the fairies and the Gleeman 
 together, the Rapparee claims our attention. He is a 
 true Celtic hero, loving solitude, building up half his 
 life out of dreams ; now perching with tlve eagle amid 
 the pinnacles of some far-olT mountain, and now rush- 
 ing with savage joy to engage in deadly conflict with 
 hostile clans. i"rom the very dawn of his life, the 
 Rapparee was hsmmed round by a circle of misfor- 
 
 tunes ; and, worst of all, when he imagined himself to 
 have found a sweet balm for all his hurts, ho discover- 
 ed that what he had mistaken for balm, was in truth 
 the most deadly poison. The woman upon he had 
 slaked his life's happiness became false to him, and 
 hor falsehood led to wretchedness, madness, death. 
 What remained to him in this world concentrated 
 itself in the desire of vengeance. In conjunction with 
 others, he stormed and gave up to the flames the strong- 
 hold of his enemy, through whom, in the midst of the 
 conflagration, he again and again thrust his vidictive 
 weapon. When revenge had thus been gratified, the 
 triumph of victory began immediately to give way 
 to feelings of remorse. He wished he had not killed 
 him, and in closing his tale he reiterated his conviction 
 that now, as age came on, he should have been almost 
 happy, were it not that he had blood upon his hands. 
 'Be happy, then,' exclaimed one of the monks, 'for 
 the miserable man who was your enemy did not die by 
 your hands. In this form — wasted by penitence— you 
 behold that wicked and proud man, whom you, I see 
 have forgiven, and whom may God also assoil !' 
 
 This termination is almost identical with that of the 
 Saxon's tale, and therefore objectionable. Both in 
 themselves are good, but they should not have been 
 found in the same volume. The French translation 
 of this poem is extremely graceful and charming. It 
 makes Ireland look like a mountainous fragment of 
 France, with rivers, lakes, glens, precipices, far more 
 picturesque and beautiful than any ever beheld in that 
 country. Such is the illusion, the spell created by lang- 
 uage. 
 
 PETIT SESSIONS SKETCH. 
 
 CASE OF ASSAlj'LT AND EATTERT. 
 
 At the sessions of , a short time ago, 
 
 Timothy, or Tim Rielly, his grandfather had doffed 
 the 0, appeared before the sitting magistrates, to preter 
 a charge of assault and battery against the pigs of his 
 neighbor, the widow Delany. The case, from its pe- 
 culiarity, excited considerable interest among the 
 ' neigbours,' and the little court-house, adjoining the 
 chief constable's house, was crowded to excess. Sev- 
 eral of those important personages famliarly designa- 
 ted ' peelers,' helped to fill it ; and in a corner between 
 a couple of them, Mr Tim Reilly had placed himself. 
 
 The case being called on, Tim boldly stepped for- 
 ward, and, in his best style, made his obeisances to 
 the bench. I would require the pen of a Carventes or 
 a Scott to do justice to the description of Tim's per- 
 son. He was fully six feet two in height, with arms, 
 were they stretched, that would reach much below 
 his knees ; the latter, while he stood appeared to com- 
 mune with each other in the most friendly manner, 
 but when he walked, they must have been at open war 
 but his head was a little inclined to the right, as if the 
 fall of some heavy matter upon it had given it a friend- 
 ly twist ; his nose was a caricature of the aquiline ; and 
 his mouth extending from ear to ear, now made a ter- 
 rible grimace as seconding some violent motion of his 
 arm again relaxed into condescending smile as he 
 ' grinned complaisance.' On the whole, a figure so 
 extrordinary was seldom beheld ; and it was evident 
 it required the greatest possible exertion, on the part 
 of the magistrates, to keep their countenance during 
 his appeal. 
 
 Magistrate — ' Where's the defendant J' 
 
 ■ Mrs. Delany,' exclaimed a policeman. 
 
 'Mrs. Delany,' roared Tim, with a stentorian bawl. 
 
 Mrs. Delany was echoed by fifty voices without, and 
 in a few minutes, Mrs. Delany herself appeared bust- 
 ling through the crowd that thronged the hall, and 
 presently placed herself by the side of our hero. 
 
 Magistrate — ' What's your complaint, Rielly V 
 
 Tim — ' And plase your honor, this woman's pigs 
 has assaulted mo an' near kilt me.' 
 
 ' Oh, don't mind a word he says, your worship," in- 
 terrupted the widow, ' for ' 
 
 Magistrate — ' Silence, woman, you will be heard in 
 your turn.' 
 
 ' Yis, silence, Mrs. Delany,' exclaimed Tim, ' you 
 will be hard in your turn.' 
 
 The serious and theatrical manner in which Tim 
 gave uttcrence to this mandate was too much for the 
 gravity of the spectators, already a little shook by his 
 outer appearance, and roar of laughter in which the 
 bench heartily joined, followed his words. 
 
 ' Musha, thin,' said Tim ' it would be much better 
 for tliim there peelcrcrs to be minding their goats, than 
 to bo hiugliing at an honest man — its ugly enough they 
 are already without making themselves more so ; troth 
 they ought to sell themselves for tobaccy signs, half 
 of them — ' 
 
 Magistrate — ' Proceed with your complaint, sir, at 
 once.' 
 
 Tim — ' I will, your honor. You must know, your 
 worships, that I farm a taste of arable land outside the 
 town here, and this woman is my right hand neighbor. 
 Well, your worships, whin I used tojcome into the 
 market here, to sell one little thing or another — and 
 may be, to buy some too — whin I'd go home, the 
 crathurs of chillers would up an tell me how Mrs. De- 
 lany 's three pigs would be rootin' my little grain of 
 piatees ; and when I'd go out to the field your worships 
 I'd find thatjhe sorra a lie was there in the chilter'a 
 mouths, for sure enough my piatees would be all rooted 
 but the sorra a pig could I lay my clutch upon. Well 
 your worships, I'd go in thin to Mrs. Delany, and 
 I'd up an tell her how her pigs had misbehaved.' 
 
 ' Oh, no, Mr. Reilly," interrupted the defendant, 
 you never tould me but once.' 
 
 ' Tin times, Mrs. Delany, begging your pardon. 
 And Mrs. Delany, says I, your pigs is badly edicated 
 — they know as much about larnin' Mrs. Delany, saj'S 
 I, as the dancing master does about navigation. Here 
 the court was convulsed with laughter. Well your 
 worship s, it's how I was remarkin' that Mrs. Delany 3 
 pigs was badly lamed ; and as I tould her one morning 
 if she didn't know how to tache her chilter better nor 
 her pigs, they'll be cryin' disgrace to her." 
 
 Magistrate — ' What has that to do with the case.' 
 
 Tim — ■ I'll tell you, your worship. Last Tuesday 
 mornin', whin I was tying some straw to cover a turf 
 reek, the chilther come cryin' to me, that the pigs was 
 at their ould work, rooting my piatees— up I leaps, 
 and straight I run to the field, and sure enough, 
 your worships, there they were, and their noses in. 
 clover. Hurish, hurish, muck, muck, says I; well, 
 with that, as soon as ever they heard me, 
 straight they galloped towards me, and, before I 
 could get out of the way, the biggest of them, bad man- 
 ners to him, leaps up and hot me right here' — suiting 
 the action to the word, Tira stretched forth his gi- 
 gantic arms, and made his enormous hands meet on 
 his breast full force. 
 
 It would be impossible to describe the state of 
 the court during the delivery of Tim's eloquent 
 harangue, several shed tears from the laughter. 
 
 ' Oh, your worships," exclaimed Mrs. Delany, 
 ' he has ma-lined my pigs, for better behaved bastes 
 never lay upon straw; I tould my little gesha of a 
 daughter to keep them out of his praties for the 
 first morning he spoke to me, and as for striking 
 him, your worships, the poor animals knew no bet- 
 ter, for they were making home, and he stood in 
 the gap." 
 
 Magistrate — ' You must compensate Reilly for 
 the damage your pigs have done his potatoes." 
 
 Tim — ' Oh, plase your worship, I'm not lookin' 
 for compensation, but in regard of their bad be- 
 havor, and their strikin' me, that I complain; and, 
 Mr. Delany," he added, turning to the widow, ' if 
 you promise to keep them out of my arable land, 
 and tache them better manners in future, I'll not 
 prosecute them no farther.' 
 
 This being faithfully promised, and Tim, having 
 made another bow to the bench, and begged their 
 'honnors' pardon,' for the trouble he had given 
 them, retired amidst the laughter of the spec- 
 tators, he himself, however, filled with the impor- 
 tance of the part he had performed, and giving 
 sundry frowns at those gentlemen he denominated 
 ' peelerers.' 
 
2G4 
 
 IRISH MISCELI^ANY. 
 
 RUINS OF THE URSUUNE CONVENT, CHARLESTOWN, MASS. 
 
 THE URSULINE CONVENT. 
 
 Wc present a view of the Ursuline Convent, in 
 Charleatown, as it now appears, after the destruc- 
 tive work of a vandal mob on the night of the 11th 
 of August 1834. It is not without extreme regret 
 and humiliation that such an event is to be recorded 
 as occurring in Massachusetts, and in the highly 
 respectable town where the convent is situated. 
 We disclaim all intention of imputing improper mo- 
 tives, or even a want of purpose to prevent such an 
 unprecedented outrage, to the authorities of that 
 town. The attack was not expected to be made on 
 the night it happened, if at all, either by the select- 
 men or the other citizens of Charlestown. And 
 when the rumor was abroad that an attack was in- 
 tended on the convent, they were on the alert, and 
 were preparing measures of prevention before the 
 time threatened, according to the reports in circu- 
 lation. They can only be justly charged, then, with 
 not acting with all the promptness and spirit which 
 would have probably been manifested, if the riot 
 had happened in Boston. It would not be strange 
 if the selectmen of Charlestown had no real belief 
 that the people in the vicinity were so thoughtless 
 and depraved as to conmiit such an act of outrage. 
 The deed struck every sober man with surprise as 
 well as abhorrence. Few, indeed, in our community, 
 <oould have euppnsed any portion of the people were 
 ■prepared for wio'.i a law less and wanton deed. And 
 without intending to apologise for, or even to pal- 
 liate it, we caniK<t but ho])e that few who engaged 
 in the outragcoas «tt had premeditated the destruc- 
 tion which ensue<L A few, indeed, must have 
 previously intended tfce destruction of the building 
 with a view to break up the institution ; but they 
 probably did not wish to offer any injury to the 
 persons of the inmates, whether Protestants or 
 Catholics. 
 
 There is just cause to fear that, with all the light 
 of the present age, a portion of the community are 
 still destitute of the true spirit of toleration in reli- 
 gion. There are such prejudices against the Cath- 
 olics and their religious creed and forms, that it is 
 thought to be unfaithfulness to God, not to avoid 
 and persecute them. 
 
 On an investigation of this unhappy and disgrace- 
 ful affair, it was found that a belief prevailed in the 
 virinily of the convent that females were there con- 
 
 fined against their will, and that the members of 
 the institution were severely punished if they did 
 not manifest unreasonable obeisance to the princi- 
 pal, and suggestions were made, calculated to give 
 the impression that some improper practices were 
 allowed. 
 
 The persons engaged in the riot were wholly or 
 mostly of that class who do not always duly reflect 
 on the consequences of violent and lawless acts, 
 like the burning of the convent. But tliey must 
 have known that the act was not only a violation of 
 law, but of most dangerous tendency. If force and 
 violence are to take the place of law, no one is 
 safe, and the prop'-rty and person of every citizen is 
 exposed to attack without just cause, and merely 
 from the prejudices of the ignorant and unprinci- 
 pled. Under the influence of the excited feelings of 
 a few, and of inconsideration in others, the build- 
 ing was fired in several places about midnight, 
 and the wood-work was consumed. The furniture 
 was also broken and destroyed, as well as the fences 
 adjoining the convent. It is said that warning was 
 given to the inmates to retire, and some search was 
 made in the house to see if any remained before the 
 fire was put to it. liut this is only proof tliat there 
 was no settled plan to take or to endanger life. It 
 furnishes no justification of the riot or destruction 
 which followed. 
 
 It is highly honorable to the character of the citi- 
 zens of Uoston and vicinity, that they expressed 
 their abhorrence of this violent transaction in a 
 prompt and decided manner, the following morn- 
 ing, when the destruction of the convent was known. 
 A very numerous meeting was holden in Boston, 
 and a committee of forty or fifty citizens of the first 
 respectability was appointed to investigate the af- 
 fair, and endeavor to find out the vile perpetrators. 
 Several persons were arrested as agents in the work 
 of destruction. The most of them were ac- 
 quitted, as the proof was not full and direct against 
 them ; but some were found guilty, not indeed 
 of arson, but of a less attrocious crime, the penalty 
 of which, by the present statute, is confinement in 
 the state prison for life. 
 
 The eity of London is eight miles long, and from 
 four to five miles wide. 
 
 THE IMPERIAL PRINCE. 
 
 On the 16th of March, lS56,the long aud anxiously 
 looked for event took place, and the Empress Eugenie 
 gave birih to a prince. The star of Louis Napoleon 
 would seem, in every particular, to be in the ascend- 
 ant. His destiny, although chcqnered, has, on the 
 whole, been propitious, and the good fortune which 
 raised him from an exile to a throne has also given 
 him a son to its inheritance. 
 
 The memories which snch an event recalls.however, 
 are not a little remarkable. From the days of J>ouls 
 XIV. up to the present, not a single King of France 
 has been at his demise succeeded by his son, notwith- 
 standing that none of them has been childless, with the 
 exception of Louis XVIII. 
 
 Louis XIV. lived to see the extinction of several 
 generations, of successors and was at last succeeded by 
 one of the younger children of his grandson, the Duke 
 of Burgundy. 
 
 Louis XV. was succeeded by his grandson, Louis 
 XVI., who, in his turn, left a son behind him only to 
 perish in a horrid dungeon, to which the vengeance of 
 the Terrorists consi^ned him. The only son of the Great 
 Napoleon died a colonel in the service of Austria. 
 
 Louis XVIII., as we have said, was childless. 
 
 The Duke de Bcrri was cut off during the lifetime of 
 Charlcss X., whilst the son of the Duke de Bordeaux 
 was an exile from his native land. The eldest son of 
 Louis I'hillippie fell by an accident, and his grandson 
 and heir is ejected from the throne of his ancestors. — 
 Such a catalogue of sorrows connected with tho 
 crowned heads of France is calculated to make the 
 thoughtful pause a few moments, and speetulate on the 
 probable future of the Imperial Prince now born to 
 Napoleon III. 
 
 Scotch Tenacity. — ' Once on a time,' says his- 
 tory, ' a Scotch pedestrian was attacked by three 
 thieves. He defended himself well, bat was overcome, 
 when the thieves, much to their astonishment, found 
 that he owned only tho small sum of sixpence. 'The 
 dc'il's in the fellow,' said one, ' to fight thus for a six- 
 pence ! Why, if he'd a shilling he'd have killed us 
 aU.' 
 
 Gas was first used for lightning streets in the U. S., 
 at Baltimore, in 1821. 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 265 
 
 TO CORRESPONDENTS. 
 
 [IJ* OUK, CoRKEepoNDKNTS slioulcl forward communioa- 
 tiOHS intended for insertion in the Misrrllany^ not lutcr than 
 the Saturday before the day of publication, as our increas- 
 ing circulation compels us to go to press every Monday 
 moruing; and should be addressed— 'Editors of the Irish 
 Miscellany, Boston, Mass.' Subscribers should mention th« 
 township, county and State in which they reside. 
 
 tCT" We cannot return any manuscript sent us for publica- 
 tion. 
 
 'A. Smith,' Koxbury, Mass. — In reply to your letter in- 
 quiring our opinion as regards the spread or existence of 
 secret societies in Ireland, or what our knowledge on the 
 subject amounts to, &c., we would state that the quotation 
 and facts on which we commented in No. 41 of the Irish 
 Miscellany were taken from the Irish papers and a letter 
 of Mr. William Smith O'Brien of a late date. We have 
 no knowledge ourselves of what is taking place in those 
 societies except what is known to the public. There have 
 been secret societies in Ireland for centuries, either gotten 
 up by the British government or in direct opposition to 
 it ; but when that government ceaees to exist in that coun- 
 try, our opinion in that secret societies will cease to exist 
 there also, 
 'J. M. W.,' Lawrence, Maes. — The article entitled our 
 ' English Vice Kings,' which we published a week or two 
 since, was written by Thos. Darcy McGee. 
 'E. Myers,' Blairsville, Fa. — The back numbers you write 
 for were forwarded ot the time. We will comply with 
 your request. 
 'A. Briton,' — The Queens of England arcnotcaIl«d upon 
 to sign a death warront. The real power is the hands of 
 the Home Secretary and his colleagues. The Queen's 
 prerogative is a mere fiction. It is Parliament that gov- 
 erns Great Britain. 
 * John Kennedy,' West Troy.— John O. Lever is a Trolea 
 tant and an Englishman. We cannot vouch for the t>uth 
 ofthe statement that his mother is an Irishwoman, though 
 we have heard it on good "nglish authority. 
 ' M. P.,' Boston. — A foreigner can only be naturalized in 
 England by a special Act of Parliament. 
 
 iRlSfi MISCELLANY. 
 
 THOMAS o'nEILL 
 MICHAEL J. WALSH 
 
 BOSTON, SATURDAY, DECEMBER 4, 1858. 
 
 LI BERT Y—EDUCAT ION — CRIME. 
 
 It is not required of us to prove that society is in 
 a bad state, and that a false estimate of liberty has 
 to do with the present lawlessness and crime which 
 abounds in and disgraces our country. Education is 
 not especially confined to the public schools, nor 
 the indoctrination of academies. It is not the work- 
 ing of a sum in arithmetic, nor the capacity to spell 
 words of many syllables, nor yet the parsing a sen- 
 tence, nor the conjugation of a ve>'b. The opinions 
 and teaching of parents have mi' , more to do with 
 it than aught els e . 
 
 The ear of youth drinks with avidity all the sen- 
 timents of good, certainly all of bad, advanced or 
 heard in the home circle. There are also out- door 
 associations, where youths congregate, and where 
 parental restraint is discussed as so much tyranny. 
 'Young America' seeks to throw off guardians at an 
 earlier age than is customary in other nations, and 
 anything which impedes that desire is called ty- 
 lanny. 
 
 Again, youths learn and espouse the political 
 feelings which are attached to parties, and can 
 scarcely help becoming imbued with their animosi- 
 ties and perverse party spirit. ^Ve admire the 
 ' esprit du corps ' which moves young men to 
 cling to their own particular parties ; but the dan- 
 ger is in passing the bounds of propriety, and run- 
 ning into hate of any other. Again, there is the 
 bigotry which produces dislike towards any one not 
 bom in the country, or who bows at altars which 
 suit not the fancy of those who have neither moral 
 nor religious restraint at all. 
 
 Slighting parental authority or disobedience is a 
 crime to which youth at a very early age are too 
 apt to indulge in here in the United States. The 
 home government thrown off, the next step is to 
 
 hold lightly the laws of the land. And while we 
 admire Apublican institutions as being the perfec- 
 tion of human government, yet we know the leaders 
 in all political associations pull wires for their own 
 political and private cuds ; tliat men are frequently 
 elected to otfi cc, pledged to sustain certain political 
 views, the sustaining of which is in violation of thel 
 very spirit of free institutions. 
 
 Through, perhaps, a misdirected sympathy, crime 
 has frequently escaped unpunished. To party tac- 
 tics, and not unfrequently through contrivance, have 
 culprits walked forth in open day, till rowdyism 
 became stronger than the arm of the law, and its 
 administrators, if not partizans, felt afraid of being 
 in the seat of justice. 
 
 In no land has there been such inducement to 
 crime as the in United States, through the many in- 
 fluences brought to bear upon the bandage covering 
 a certain lady's eyes. 
 
 Who will say that even a premium has not been 
 held out to become a thief? A man steals, by 
 forgery or otherwise, some $50,000; is held at 
 $10,000 for bail ; he gets two friends to be respon- 
 sible for his appearance by paying them said sum ; 
 they forfeit ; the state may or may not sue them ; he 
 steps out, clearing by the operation some .f 40, 000 ; 
 he is immediately dubbed a smart fellow. 
 
 We cannot be called the greatest admirers of 
 England, but we do acknowledge she excels us in 
 the due administration of justice. There is no re- 
 spect for persons, wealth, nor title before the law ; 
 the statue is strictly adhered to ; the law is vindi- 
 cat''d. 
 
 We cannot see even-handed justice in sending a 
 poor man to jail for selling a glass of gin, while the 
 State traffics therein, and rich men sell with im- 
 punity. We believe in the administration of the 
 law — in its repeal, if either unjust or unpopular. 
 
 Good government has its seat in individual moral 
 character. That society where ' Do unto others as 
 ye would they should do unto you ' is the leading 
 principle, is best governed, where men, believing in 
 their own rights, extend like privileges to all others, 
 and those men are generally the children who had 
 parental government, those who followed parental 
 instruction. 
 
 We are led to these reflections by scenes passing 
 before our eyes. A young man, under twenty years 
 of age is executed in a sister state for the dreadful 
 crime of murder — the murder of a man who never 
 committed aught against him, who, with his wife, 
 v.'as peacefully walking the public way. Who will 
 say that the reckless spirit, the false idea of inde- 
 pendence, the Americanism which teaches to do as 
 you like, right or wrong, had not to do with it ? 
 Then, the philanthropists, whose only efforts are to 
 save criminals, and disgust the community, have 
 they before or since the execution of young Uodgers 
 discussed the causes which led to the crime for 
 which he suffered the dreadful penalty ? Again, in 
 a neighboring state, a citizen and an officer of the 
 law,is shot down, and cruelly murdered, because he 
 gives evidence in the courts in vindication of law, 
 order and truth. 
 
 Nor can we, in this ' Modern Athens,' wash our 
 skirts clear from some of this 'independence mania' 
 while we read that three young scions of the 'Young 
 America' school recently refused to testify in our 
 courts, declaring that their words ought to be suf- 
 ficient to satisfy the requirements of the law. We 
 were pleased, however, that the court sustained its 
 honor and dignity by sending them to cool in the 
 cells until they could learn the duties of the citizen, 
 and a proper regard for the administration of jus- 
 tice. 
 
 We really consider it behoves all lovers of laws 
 and order to aid in bringing back public sentiment 
 to a true sense of what is real liberty and true free- 
 dom, not as in wild and visionary brains, which lead 
 to lawlessness and anarchy, but in the respect of 
 
 every individual right, and the observance of the 
 social bond. 
 
 We arc no advocates of hanging, nor are we un- 
 der the impression that society is much benefitted 
 by the death of a fellow-man ; but we arc decidedly 
 of the opinion that the laws should be vindicated to 
 the letter, and should neither be trifled with to-day 
 nor governed by judge Lynch to-morrow ; nor yet 
 are we in favor of giving power to a govenor to 
 pardon every scoundrel who may, through money, 
 get influence, without hedging it round with proper 
 restrictions. 
 
 Society demands from every good citizen not 
 only the observance of law, but his individual eflbrt 
 in maintaining the dignity and peace of society; and 
 while the law is only a terror to the evil-doer, yet 
 there should be felt an individual responsibility, as 
 in each link of the chain depends its strength and 
 durability. Everything which has a tendency to 
 immorality, every ism which would subvert a pri- 
 vate right should be frowned down. In the inviola- 
 bility of other's rights, we ensure our own, in the 
 teaching and training of youth at home is the 
 guarantee for the stability and elevated character of 
 society abroad. 
 
 THE CALWAY LINE STILL TRIUMPHANT. 
 
 Despite the endeavors of Liverpool merchants 
 and their hirelings, who scribble all sorts of stuff to 
 the effect that Liverpool is the nearest and the safest 
 port to the great American continent,we are pleased 
 that the indefatigable Lever is full a match for them. 
 The cabinet ministers have no sooner contracted in 
 a secret and covertly manner with the Cunard line 
 for the transmission of the mails until the year 1867 
 — thus ignoring the new and shorter route, although 
 publicly acknowledging not only its practibility but 
 its public benefit, declaring that the fact of London 
 being brought within six days of Washington was 
 of sufficient importance to gain for the undertaking 
 government aid, and that, with first class vessels, it 
 was not improbable the passage could be made in 
 five or five and a half days — than Mr. Lever, whose 
 faith and resources seem fully capable for the task, 
 immediately makes application to France for a mail 
 subsidy, receives warm assurances and a kindly 
 greeting from the Emperor, who immediately enters 
 with all heart into the views of the Galway com- 
 pany's agent, and we are pleased to be able to an- 
 nounce, as we do elsewhere, the fact that a bargain 
 has been struck ; Ireland is to be allied to France, 
 and is about to be the channel of communication 
 between the Empire and the Great Republic. A\Tiat 
 may be the consequences of drawing closer those 
 bonds of friendly feeling which have always existed 
 between the two Celtic nations we are not bound to 
 say ; but we do really think that this new feature 
 may have some effect in making England's governors 
 think it an incumbent duty to act honestly by the 
 sister isle ; that the time has come and cannot be 
 delayed when Ireland's claims, position and re- 
 sources will be understood and appreciated by the 
 world, who study geography without England's ver- 
 sion. We really think her days of severe trial are 
 nearly over, and that the Almighty, in his wisdom 
 and goodness, is, in his own way and time, vindi- 
 cating Ireland's cause, and is about to lift her up. 
 Now, then, should all her children work, that they 
 may rejoice. 
 
 Turret Salve. — We call attention to the adver- 
 tisement in another page of the ' Turkey Salve.' 
 We mean to puff no quackery ; but believe it to 
 be really what it is called. 
 
 James McGinn, of San Francisco, is our agent 
 for California, who will take in return for our pic- 
 torial lumps or dust from the diggings. Our friends 
 in the gold regions can send on a pile. We will send 
 back in return rich effusions of literary brains. 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 [Writttii for the Mi»ecll»n)-.] 
 MV MOLLY BAWN. 
 
 BT DARBY UOKEO!!. 
 
 (Dedicated to I'aul I'cppcrKriuss. Esq.] 
 
 Yon silvery wBvelel bcncatli the mountuinr, 
 luto whoye boKom does gently glide 
 Snccl singing strenmlols from spnrkling fountuinr, 
 Still miugling in that translucent tide. 
 
 Gay natnrc fair iu wild splendor there 
 Fills earth and air with rich Iregrance grand, 
 Where Sol's bright beams shed transparent gleams 
 O'er the rocks and itrcanu round my AIollv Ua >vn 
 
 The purest flower in yon leafy bower 
 Cannot in sweetness with her compare; 
 She's mild and meek, o'er each blooming cheek 
 Flows charming ringlets of golden hair. 
 
 Her virgin smile would a saint beguile, 
 Her step is light as the gentle farou; 
 Ture as the faith of that holy isle 
 la the tender heart of my Mollv Baww. 
 
 Her skin 's more white than the lily bright, 
 Uer eye 's a sparkling sweet magic blue, 
 Tbat shoot forth rays of angelic light. 
 Her voice is soft as the Cushcts Coo. 
 
 Kg Saxon heiress to me so fair is — 
 Their haughty ijueen I'd reluee her hand- 
 That rural maiden my only care is. 
 My virtuous, charming sweet Molly Hawk. 
 
 At eve, when Phojbus w ith radiant glory- 
 Lit up tlie sky like some golden se , 
 With joyous rapture my plaintive story 
 In tender whispers she heard from me. 
 
 Too soon that sun, 'mid elTulgcnt gladness. 
 Spread lustrous beams o'er a hapless land, 
 Which leaves me pining to-<Iuy in sadness. 
 An exile far from my Molly Bawn. 
 
 At last, the rays of a glorious morning 
 Are glimmering over yon Kastcrn skies; 
 1'c hopel\il millions behold the warning. 
 Your Erin's Sunburst again shall rise. 
 
 * Far o'er the waves, when the green is flying, 
 I'm pledged to be, at the morning's dawn, 
 Lifelesd and bold 'mong the dead and dying. 
 Or FR£E and bold with you, Molly Bawk. 
 
 Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1858, by 
 Thomas O'Neill, in the District Court of Massachusetts. 
 
 KEMINIS CENCES IN THE 
 
 — IX THE — 
 
 ENGLISH AND AMERICAN SERVICES. 
 BY TUOMAS O'NEILL. 
 
 DBDICATED to general JAMES SHIELDS. 
 
 EFFECTS OF BAD COMPANY, 
 
 Tom D was one of the handsomest men I ever 
 
 saw. In figure and face, he was a perfect model. 
 He was about twenty-two years of age, stood five 
 feet nine inees higli, presenting an appearance that 
 might well set astray the heart of any damsel of 
 from fifteen to thirty. Stout, but not fleshy, his 
 bony and sinewy frame indicated great strength and 
 agility ; in fact, he was a model Hussar. A keen, 
 penetrating intelligence flashed from his bright 
 hazel eyes. He was, indeed, one of Nature's own 
 noblemen. 
 
 Added to his sjTnmctry and manly beauty, he 
 •was blessed with the best of temper, and was ex- 
 pert in acquiring a full and practical knowledge of 
 the science of his avocation. Gentle, modest, sober, 
 and intelligent, he soon gained the good will and 
 •warm friendship of every man in the regiment, from 
 the old colonel down to the latest recruit. He was 
 fitted for the society of the highest and most refined, 
 was well read, possessing a fund of information 
 •which enabled him to enter fluently into conversa- 
 tion upon most any topic. With the illiterate and 
 
 the young, he was an especial favorite ; indeed, he 
 seemed to be more at home nursing and teaching 
 the aoldiers' children, when off duty, than at any 
 other occupation, or in any other company, no mat- 
 ter how select. 
 
 From the day that he entered the service, it ap- 
 peared that he outstripped all his compeers. He 
 was not only at the head of his class, but mustered 
 the use of all kinds of weapons in an incredibly 
 short space of time, taking pleasure in what others 
 regarded as oifflcult. He laughed at obstacles, only 
 to surmount them, while others would be consider- 
 ing them until they became discouraged. Sword, 
 lance, stick, carbine, or pistol, were alike to him. 
 In riding school, he was a pattern for others to imi- 
 tate. In fact, he became a complete and almost 
 faultless soldier. 
 
 His moral conduct was in accordance with his 
 mental and physical qualities. No person oversaw 
 him drunk ; no oath or profane word was ever heard 
 to issue from his lips, but truthfully up to the 
 Quaker's mark, yea or nay, as the case might re- 
 quire. Such a man, possessed of such endowments, 
 could not long remain unnoticed by his superiors. 
 He was promoted, and very soon afterwards made 
 sergeant, and, although perhaps at the time, the 
 youngest cavalry sergeant in the service, there were 
 none who could perform duty better. The most 
 arduous task, the most responsible post were not 
 denied to him on account of his youth. Every one 
 ceded to him an aptitude and fitness to perform any 
 duty. 
 
 Upon being made full sergeant, he was transferred 
 to another troop, in which there happened to be a 
 very fine looking young man, as to outward appear- 
 ance, but one of quite a different character to our 
 
 friend Tom D . His name was AVilson. He was 
 
 thoughtless and careless, fond of pleasure and frolic, 
 no matter at what cost. He had established his 
 character for wildness and irregularity, as the other 
 had for the reverse. 
 
 It so happened that the sergcnnt and private 
 Wilson were from the same distri t in Shropshire, 
 and in the course of conversatiun they discovered 
 that each had known the other's family before leav- 
 ing home. The acquaintance had not lasted long 
 between these two young men when the sergeant 
 was remarked for visiting the city more than usual, 
 and, ere long, was observed to return somewhat 
 flushed in the face and a little excited. His friends 
 began to fear that his new acquaintance would not 
 serve him, but would bring him into mischief if 
 continued. They accordingly remonstrated with 
 him on the danger of his position. But it was too 
 late. He now purposely sought the company of 
 Wilson and his associates, rejecting that of his 
 former friends, or the non-commissioned ofiicers, 
 room. Matters continued thus, but daily grew 
 worse. He became boisterous, and frequently 
 showed unmistakeable signs of inebriation. 
 
 At length, one afternoon, while we were on the 
 line of march, he tore the stripes from his arm, and 
 made a football of his ' busby,' kicking it to pieces 
 before him on the streets of Derby. He was arrest- 
 ed, tried, and reduced to the ranks, besides being 
 sentenced to three months imprisonment in the 
 military provost. 
 
 There arc two of these military prisons, one at 
 Maidstone, in the county of Kent, England, the 
 other in Dublin, Ireland. The punishment inflicted 
 on the soldiers in these places is disgraceful in the 
 extreme. Every cruelty that can be devised is re- 
 sorted to — hard labor, hunger, and the ' silent sys- 
 tem," are among their tender mercies. Houses of 
 correction, penitentiaries, 5 aye, or state prisons for 
 civilians, may in comparison be considered comfort- 
 able abodes. 
 
 Poor D 's three months, like all other three 
 
 months before or since, had their termination. He 
 came out a ruined man. His fricud Wilson set 
 upon him, and finding him in a ready vein for any 
 
 mischief, led him from bad to worse, until theft fol- 
 lowed drunkenness. 
 
 Not long after his release, they robbed a farm near 
 Mansfield. Their thieving forays became of nightly 
 occurrence. Some half u dozon of these foolish 
 men, after being in bed at the regular hour, half 
 past nine o'clock, would get up, after the roll was 
 called, and scamper all over the country, commit- 
 ting depredations, steal fowl, vegetables, or any- 
 thing else that they could lay their hands upon. 
 
 I have often, on awakening in the morning, seen 
 geese, hens, vegetables, and fruit, in abundance, 
 laying about, sufficient to victual a whole troop. 
 This system of thieving, began in a drunken lark, 
 was continued as a joke. It was winked at by the 
 orderly-sergeant, -^hose duty it was to call a check 
 roll at midnight to see if the men were in their beds. 
 The orderly, of course, ivas silenced by a fat 
 chicken or turkey for dinner. The lick were helped 
 to fowl, vegetables and fruit. But this pious dis- 
 tribution of their ungodly spoiU did not hurt them 
 much, for, notHithstanding;all they gave away, they 
 still had enough to sell, by which they procured 
 pocket money to spend. 
 
 The bribing of the orderly-sergeant, the pious of- 
 fering to the sick, and the sales to married soldiers, 
 who could buy cheaper in the troop-room than at 
 the market, involved so many interests and individ- 
 uals, that secrecy became a necessary consequence. 
 
 The farmer, however, who happened to have 
 been their first victim, not relishing their rather pe- 
 culiar mode of cracking jokes, determined to pre- 
 vent a repetition of them, at least at his expense. 
 He therefore awaited a second visit from the 
 worthies with some solicitude, but not without hav- 
 ing prepared a due reception for them. He had not 
 long to wait ; they arrived in time — a scuffle ensued 
 — some hard knocks were given and returned. The 
 farmer's party, however, succeeded in arresting one 
 of them ; he was a musician. He was handed over 
 next day, and had to be sent to the hospital. But, 
 under no circumstances, could he be induced or 
 coerced to divulge the names of any of his accom- 
 plices. 
 
 One of the officers jestingly charged Tom D 
 
 with being one of the party, which he answered by 
 striking him a blow. This, under the circumstan- 
 ces, the officer might have overlooked, had not sev- 
 eral others been looking on, who reported the cir- 
 cumstance to the commanding officer. Tom got 
 away by jumping a wall. He did not intend, how- 
 ever, to desert, he merely wished to have a 
 frolic before going to the provost again. 
 
 I had been one of his warmest friends, and would 
 have given anything to have him restored to his 
 foi-mer self. This he well knew, and the night be- 
 fore he surrendered he came to my bedside and 
 awoke me. I reasoned with him on the great im- 
 propriety of his conduct. He told me that he felt 
 all the pain imaginable for his friends, but none for 
 himself. He believed that there was no possible 
 chance for redemption for him, for he thought his 
 doom was ordained ; in fact, he had become a blind 
 fatalist. He left me to go to the guard-room, saying, 
 ' If I am sentenced to be shot I shall be satisfied, 
 for I do not like to be continually court martialled; 
 if I am transported it will please me, but if flogged 
 I shall become a desperate, degraded, furious being. 
 I will then excel and revel in every vice and mis- 
 chievous deviltry. I must excel iu everything ; it 
 is my nature; if I were with highwaymen, I would 
 be chief; but,' added he, 'if I am flogged, and 
 thought one nerve would shrink or move, I would 
 cut it out were it next my heart.' 
 
 He was tried, and in a few days after the regiment 
 was ordered out to parade with arms — this was the 
 customary order when sentence of court martial was 
 to be read. 
 
 The afternoon arrived, and the regiment was on 
 parade. We marched to the riding school, forming 
 three sides of a square. The prisoner was marched 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 267 
 
 in. The sentence having been rend aloud, he was 
 ordered to strip. Tlie method adopted in cavalry 
 regiments for executing this base, cruel, and degrad- 
 ing punishment, is to drive strong hooks into a wall 
 about sevin feet from the ground, and at about the 
 same distance apart. The prisoner stands with his 
 face to the wall, his arms are stretched out, and 
 then finally lashed by the wrists ; the -legs are in 
 like manner firmly tied by the ankles and thighs, 
 but not so far apart as the ar.iis. The surgeon 
 stands beside him, on his right hand, and is sup- 
 posed to see that the punishment does not endanger 
 the life of the culprit. I have never, however, dur- [ 
 iug my e.xpericnce. in the service, seen a surgeon ex- 
 amine any one while undergoing this cruel torture. , 
 The regimental sergeant major likewise stands bv, 
 to sec that the farriers do their duty — a duty which 
 is one of obligation, but naturally much disliked by 
 them. As each stroke falls upon the back of the ■ 
 unfortunate, the sergeant major counts them aloud. I 
 A farrier soon becomes tired, and is at once relieved 
 by another. Each stroke is supposed 'o be deliver- 
 ed with all his strength and judgment, stepping 
 back a pace after each infliction, and again advanc- 
 ing as he delivers the succeeding one. The farriers ) 
 get whiskey to drink to keep them to the flogging 
 point. I 
 
 I never before witnessed the flogging of a man 
 without becoming sick. On this occasion I did not, 
 nor can I account for it. There was one in whom I ' 
 felt a great and lively interest undergoing a cruel 
 punishment of the most excrutiating nature, yet I 
 felt as though under the influence of a solemn 
 obligation to look on. I watched him closely. I 
 knew the strength of nerve which he possessed, and ■ 
 although I had seen the stoutest and boldest spirits | 
 cringe and twist, he moved not a muscle. The first ! 
 stroke fell, and there appeared nine distinct red ' 
 marks, which invariably turned black ere the second 
 could be given. The marks extended from' the | 
 right shoulder-blade to the loins of the left side. 
 After about a dozen strokes had been inflicted 
 the whole back was black, and appeared ready to 
 burst, looking soft and liver-like. Soon the blood 
 came forth, and no doubt the fellow felt relieved, 
 though he still showed no sign. 
 
 The allotted one hundred and fifty lashes were 
 duly given and counted, when the lacerated and 
 bleeding victim was loosed from his bonds. lie 
 called for his cloak, which he stoically cast over his 
 shoulders, and as he returned with the guard for 
 the hospital he bowed with a smile to his comrades; 
 every man of whom felt truly sorrowful for his deg- 
 re dation and fall. 
 
 A s soon as we were dismissed I visited the hospi- 
 tal, and found him anxiously waiting my arrival. 
 The doctor bad left him ; ' But,' said he, ' the doc- 
 tor's process will be to slow. I want you to bathe 
 my back with blue-stone water.' He had secretly 
 provided it. I did as he desired, repeated the pro- 
 cess afterwards, and in a few days he was ready for 
 duty and more mischief. 
 
 As we lay side by side, one night after he returned 
 to the barracks, I was desirous of learning the state 
 of his mind. He said — 
 
 ' I can no longer remain a soldier, especially in 
 this regiment ; if I was transported I might do bet- 
 ter ; but no,' he continued, ' every man in the ser- 
 vice would know me. I must be transported or 
 shot, and that before many months are over.' 
 
 I was truly sorry to hear him speak thus ; but 
 how much more grieved to witness him take up 
 with his forever wicked companions, who rejoiced 
 to have him among them so soon. 
 
 In less than two months he was again a prisoner 
 in the guard-room, for drunkenness and abscence 
 from duty. While in confinement, the coporal of 
 the guard made use of some harsh expressions to 
 him, for which, in his mad rage, he struck him sev- 
 eral times. He was tried, and though the corporal 
 declined to prove an assault.more than merely shov- 
 
 ing him, he was sentenced to transportation beyond 
 the seas. 
 
 In execution of this sentence, he was conveyed on 
 board a convict ship. On board these vessels there 
 are rings ri vetted in the deck, to which the more 
 desperate convicts are chained, and their limbs 
 manacled, when brought up from the hold for the 
 benefit of the air. 
 
 One day, while being thus chained down, an al- 
 tercation took place between him and the officer, 
 whose duty it was to fulfil this unpleasant task. 
 The officer reported him, and he was accordingly 
 denied some trifling privilege, in punishment. This 
 made him desperate, and he vowed to have revenge. 
 In a few days after this the same officer was again 
 performing the same unpleasant duty, but before he 
 had time to fasten him, and while the shackles were 
 hanging loosely about his limbs, Tom seized the of- 
 ficer in his arms, and, in his mad strength, lifed him 
 up, and before any one could interfere to prevent 
 him, plunged headlong into the sea with him. The 
 iron menacles bore them down, and neither ever 
 rose to the surface again. 
 
 Thus ended the career of as promising a young 
 soldier as ever mounted a horse — who, but a few 
 months before, was honered and respected by all who 
 knew him. Bad company was the ruin of a friend, 
 whose loss to this day I mournfully regret. His 
 tragical and terrible end has obscured the memory 
 of his faults and failings, and I remembered only hia 
 good qualities, his manly beauty, his kindness of 
 heart, and the promise of his youth. 
 
 His destroyer was soon afterwards dismissed from 
 the service, being strongly suspected of stealing 
 wine. He and two of his companions were handed 
 blank discharges, and the guard ordered to see them 
 beyond the barrack gate at Hume, never again to 
 be admitted to the service they had disgraced. 
 
 Soms years after, I was accosted in the streets at 
 Stockton, by an excavator or ' navvy,' as they are 
 called in England. It was Wilson. His dishonor- 
 able discharge distressed him much ; but when I 
 alluded to the untimely fate of the subject of this 
 narrative, ha seemed deeply and truly affected. He 
 was then married, and having reformed his conduct, 
 was apparently doing well. 
 
 I Written for the Miscellany.] 
 
 SKETCHES FROM MEMORY. 
 
 BY J. E. P. 
 
 COMING TO AMERICA4 
 
 No. I. 
 
 On a beautiful evening in May, 1 84-, the ship Mt. 
 Washington left Liverpool for Boston, U. S., having 
 on board some 250 emigrants, composed mostly of the 
 better class of Irishmen and women, with a sprinkling 
 of English and Scotch. Emigrant vessels leaving 
 Liverpool are not attended with those heart-rending 
 scenes so often witnessed in Irish ports, on the event 
 of a vessel leaving for America, for the English do 
 not possess that susceptibility of feeling so charac- 
 teristic of the inhabitants of the ' sister isle,' and there 
 regrets at leaving England, are not generally of the 
 same nature as those who leave Ireland. The an- 
 nouncement, therefore, that the ship was under-weigh, 
 caused no excitement among the passengers, but when 
 we entered the rough waters of the channel, there were 
 heavings, other than those of grief, in the breasts of 
 many of them. 
 
 Voyages across the Atlantic are generally monoto- 
 nous, but I think there was an exception in this case 
 although by the time that we reached the harbor of 
 Boston, eight weeks after leaving Liverpool, incidents 
 and amusements were well nigh exhausted. On calm 
 evenings there would be groups on deck, enjoying 
 themselves in various ways, some of whom, to the mu- 
 sic of the Irish pipes, would be 'tripping the light fan- 
 tastic toe,' — no, I must confess that some of the toe- 
 were 'heavy,' to judge from the impressions left on the 
 
 deck by their shoes, yclept ' brogues.' On another 
 part of the deck, Sandy McDonald played ' Rob Roy,' 
 while Scotch lads and lassies reeled it for hours to- 
 gether 10 the music of the Highland pipes. 
 
 When four weeks out, quite a storm arose, and for 
 tlirce days and nights, many of us expected a watery 
 grave. On the third night our mizenniaNt was shiv- 
 ered with n crash, and the few jias^cngeri who had 
 gone to their hammocks came lushiiig up the hatch- 
 way, supposing the ship was going down. The ves- 
 sel lay a moment upon her side, then slowly lilted her- 
 self up, and rode gallantly on. This ' life on the 
 ocean wave ' was not to our tastes, but on the fourth 
 day, the wind slacknced, and tinally died out altogeth- 
 er, verifying the old saying — ' after a storm comes a 
 calm.' The following three days, the ship lay like a 
 huge log upon the ocean, the water being as still and 
 unruffled almost, as if it were one unbroken sheet of 
 ice. 
 
 On the fourth day of calm weather, which was Sun- 
 day, the sails began to fill, and again we moved on the 
 trackless ocean. Towards noon, was descried to 
 leeward a vessel, quickly nearing us. It was the first 
 sail we had seen, beyond our own, since leaving the 
 English Channel, and almost every passenger was on 
 deck as the stranger approached, she seemingly wished 
 to hold converse with us. Our flag, the ' Star Spang- 
 led Banner,' was flung to the breeze, and our compan- 
 ion (pardon me, gentle reader,) showed her colors the 
 bloody red ensign. When within speaking distance, 
 the wind apparently lulled, Boreas not wishing, I sup- 
 pose, to mar the conversation by his ' blowing.' Af- 
 ter the usual questions — ' Where are you bound f 
 what's your carjio 1' &c., were asked and answered, 
 and the two ships were close enough to speak without 
 aid of trumpets, a real Irishman sprang on top of the 
 cook's galley, and taking off his hat, pointed towards 
 the ' Stars and Stripes,' exclaiming — ' There, boys, is 
 the American flag ! let us give three cheers for it.' It 
 is enough to say that they were given, not only by the 
 ■boys,' as he called his countrymen, but women and 
 children also joined in the hurrahs, and with such a 
 hearty good will that told it came from their hearts — 
 Irish ones. 
 
 But he did not stop here. When the cheering had 
 subsided, he put on his hat, and raised his hand 
 again, this time towards the British flag, saying, 
 ' There is the flag of the country that is now send- 
 ing us to America, away from poor old Ireland. 
 We are under the protection of the stars and stripes, 
 and now boys, let us give three groans for the bloody 
 flag of England !' 
 
 This was done with as good a will as on the pre- 
 vious cheering, to the no small discomfiture of the 
 English passengers. Our captain, too, pretended 
 to be displeased, and apologised to the captain of 
 the British vessel ; but when we parted company 
 he invited the maker of the impromptu speeches in- 
 to the cabin, and to judge of the manner in which 
 this son of Erin smacked his lips after coming out, 
 the impression was that he got a stiff ' halyard ' 
 (sea-language), for a glass of whiskey. 
 
 This man was apparently about six feet high, 
 with a frank, open countenance, and his attire con- 
 tributed not a little to set his figure off to good ad- 
 vantage. He was dressed in a coat of gray frieze, 
 and corduroy breeches, with leggings reaching to 
 the knee. His throat was unfettered by a cravat, 
 and the wind played with his jet black locks as 
 harmless he stood, pointing with uplifted hand to 
 the flag of the free floating above his head. In my 
 youthful enthusiasm I fancied him a hero, and Wal- 
 lace and Walsh (the latter being his name), were, 
 in my mind, synonomous. 
 
 On the next day, a scene somewhat different was 
 witnessed on board — the burial of a passenger, who 
 died of ship-fever. There is something peculiarly 
 solemn in a burial at sea, and now, after the lapse 
 of years, the scene is as fresh in my memory as if it 
 occured but yesterday. The man was in the prime 
 of life, had been a well-to-do farmer in Ireland, and 
 
268 
 
 IIUSU MISCELLANY. 
 
 was the father of a large family, who were entirely 
 dependent on him for support. He had been sick 
 but a few days when Death, wlio never spares his 
 victims, laid his iee-cold hand upon his heart, and 
 stilled its throb forever. 
 
 *Ko U8elcsj< coflln cuclosed his brctist;* 
 but, wrapped in a sheet, lie was let gently down 
 into the coral bed of ocean ; the waves closed over 
 him ; the ship sped on her course, and the event was 
 soon forgotten, except, indeed, by the widow and 
 orphans, who lost what time could ne'er restore. 
 
 On the third of July we entered the harbor of 
 Boston, and the same afternoon the[Mt. Washington 
 reached her dock, and discharged her passengers. 
 It svas the eve of the anniversary cf American Inde- 
 pendence, and when the clock tolled the hour of 
 midnight, and the ' Fourth ' was ushered in by the 
 booming of cannon, ringing of bells, &c., I thought 
 of my impassioned countryman who stood bare- 
 headed beneath America's flag at sea, and who, on 
 this day, must feel a renewed pride in celebrating 
 the anniversary of its birth. 
 
 GRAND RECEPTION OF THE HIBERNIA FIRE 
 COMPANY OF PHILADELPHIA. 
 
 Ilibcrnia Engine company No. 1 of Philadelphia, 
 arrived in this city Wednesday evening, and were 
 received by nearly the whole of the Boston fire 
 department. They reached here in the New York 
 Express train at ten minutes before seven o'clock, 
 and were met at the depot by a large crowd. The 
 Boston firemen were drawn up in line on Lincoln 
 street, with the right resting on Beach street, and 
 after the reception ceremonies had been gone 
 through with, the procession took up its line of 
 march in the order named below. 
 
 The visitors were in full parade dress, black pants, 
 drab coats, over-waistcoats of red flannel appro- 
 priately ornamented, green water-proof capes 
 painted with golden emblems, and hats to match. 
 They were accompanied by Beck's Band of Phila- 
 delphia, and number, with the band and three ser- 
 vants, one hundred and twenty-seven men. The 
 following is a list of their officers : Chief JIarshal, 
 Col. James Page ; Special Aid, James M. Colgan j 
 Assistant Marshals, Henry A. Cook, John R. 
 Downing, John T. Doyle, George McGee, William 
 A. Thorp, William A. Delaney and Thomas Dillon ; 
 Guides, C. M. Berry, Francis Fox, James A. Saw- 
 yer, James K. Nightingale, John Delaney and Ed- 
 ward Oowan ; Engineers, George W. HoUoway 
 and Joseph Parry. 
 
 As our readers doubtless know, the Hibernia is 
 the oldest fire company in this country — if not in 
 the world — having been instituted on the 20th of 
 February, 17o'2. From the company's earliest e.x- 
 iatence up to the present time, its roll has em- 
 braced the names of some of Philadelphia's best 
 citizens. In the time of the Revolution, most of 
 the noted patriots of the city and a number of the 
 officers of the army were enrolled upen^^e list. ! 
 Gen. Stewart, Robert Morris, Thompson, the Secre- ! 
 tary of Congress, who read the Declaration of Inde- j 
 pendence from the State House steps, Nicholas 
 Biddle, and other men of like calibre, have been j 
 members. Th'-ir present President, Col. James 
 Page (who also acts as Chief Marshal on this ex- 
 cursion), was formerly postmaster of Philadelphia, 
 and afterwards collector of the port. One division 
 of tke company, as now constituted, is composed of 
 men over six feet in height. Their steam fire en- 
 gine arrived, but was not drawn in the procession. 
 The machine is new, having been finished only 
 about a month. Upon the dome is a massive silver 
 plate, on which are inscribed the name of the com- 
 pany, the date of their organization, incorporation, 
 &c., together with the . names of the officers. The 
 whole inscription was published in our paper 
 some days since, together with some other facts in 
 relation to the company. 
 
 The following was the order of procession : — 
 
 Chief Marshal, 
 
 George W. Bird, Esq., Chief Engineer. 
 
 Assistant Engineers. 
 
 Chelsea Brass Band. 
 
 Perkins Engine Co. No. 2, Capt. George Brown. 
 
 Eagle ICngine Co. No. 3, Capt. E. W. Milliken. 
 
 Cataract Engine Co. No. 1, under the command of 
 
 Clerk Charles P. Stetson. 
 Melville Engine Co. No. 6, Capt. Calvin C. Wilson. 
 Tiger Engine Co. No. 7, Capt. Thomas Whipple. 
 Washington Uoso Co. No. 1, Capt. Charles E. 
 Dunton. 
 Union Hose Co. No. 2, Capt. M. C. Thompson. 
 Howard Cornet Band. 
 Suff'olk Hose Co. No. 5, ('.ii)t. Wm. Lovell. 
 Deluge Hose Co. No. 6, Capt. Joseph Barnes. 
 Boston Cornet Band. 
 Tremont Engine Co. No. 12, Capt. O. R. Robbins. 
 Beck's Band of Philadelphia. 
 Hibernia Engine Co. No. l,of Philadelphia, 
 surrounded by a body guard com- 
 posed of all the companies. 
 Washington Hook and Ladder Co. No. 2, Capt. C. 
 
 Simonds. 
 Warren Hook and Ladder Co. No. 3, Capt. G. W. 
 Warren. 
 Loud's Cornet Band, of North Weymouth. 
 Boston Engine Co. No. S, Capt. Beiij. Tarbox. 
 Maverick Engine Co. No. fl, Capt. J. P. Somcrby. 
 Barnicoat Engine Co. No. 11, under command of 
 Clerk J. A. Fynes. 
 Webster Engine Co. No. 13, dipt. H. Weston. 
 The procession nnmbercd upwards of seven hun- 
 dred men, and all the companies, except Tremont En- 
 gine Company No. 12 (whoso guests the Philadel- 
 pbians are during their stay in Boston), carried torch- 
 lights or Cliinesc lanterns. On account of the bad 
 state of the streets the route was considerably short- 
 ened. It laid through the following streets : Beach 
 street, Harrison avenue, Newton, Washington, Court, 
 Sudbury, Portland, Merrimac, Wall, Minot, Leverett, 
 Lynde, Hancock, Mt. Vernon streets to Louisburg 
 square, and from thence through Pinckney, Charles, 
 Pleasant and Tremont streets to the house of Tremont 
 Engine Co. No 12 in Warren street, where the line was 
 dismissed. 
 
 At the depot, when the procession started, and at 
 various points along the route, displays of rockets and 
 other fireworks were made. The house of Eagle En- 
 gine Company No. 3, on Washington street, was illu- 
 minated, and several flags, together with the following, 
 were strung across the street in front : ' Hibernians, 
 we welcome you.' Several other buildings were illu- 
 minated. 
 
 Upon reaching Warren street, the Philadelphia 
 Company were invited by Engine Company No. 12, to 
 a collation, spread in tha ward room adjoining the 
 engine house. The room was tastefully decorated for 
 the occasion by Col. Beals, and plates were laid for 
 one hundred and sixty persons. 
 
 Capt. Kobbins.ln a brief speech, welcomed the stran- 
 gers to Boston, and after the repast, off"ered a senti- 
 ment in honor of the Hibernia, whicb was responded 
 to by Col. Page, who said he was glad to meet the 
 Boston firemen. He was not an entire stranger here, 
 for a quarter of a century ago be visited the city as the 
 commander of a military company. There had been 
 many changes since that time, but he found no cliange 
 in the hospitality of the citizens. This time he bad 
 visited Bo-iton to exhibit to her citizens their new ap 
 paratus for the extinguishment of fires. There had 
 been much prejudice against steam lire engines in his 
 own city, but he was convinced that steam would, soon- 
 er or later, supersede the manual labor in the firo de- 
 partments of all large cities. 
 
 Chief Engineer Bird made a brief speech, and also 
 bid the Philadelphians a hearty welcome. Speeches 
 were also made by Assiblaut Engineer Damrell, 
 John Thornley, Esq., one of the trustees of the Hi- 
 bernia, Major William A. Thorpe of Philadelphia, 
 the several representatives of the press, and others. 
 
 At eleven o'clock, the Hibernia Company were es- 
 corted to their quarters at the American House by 
 Tremont No. 12, accompanied by the Boston Comet 
 Band. 
 
 The 'Hibentia' was built by Messrs. Raney, 
 NeifFy & Co., Kensington, Pa. Her performance 
 surpassed everything seen in Boston before, aa did 
 
 her company, which we do not flatter when wc say 
 they looked like men and acted like gentlemen. 
 
 In their reception by the Bostonians we sec the 
 dawn of a new era, and, as we trust, a new proof 
 that the Union is safe ; that 'tis sacred in the hearts 
 of Bostonians and Philadelphians. As wc watched 
 their comingling wc felt satisfied there was no alien- 
 ation of feeling, but a true brotherly sentiment of 
 Americanism, which would again bring us together 
 shoulder to shoulder, as of yore, in defence of the 
 common Hag. 
 
 The visit of the Hibernians to Charlestown and 
 East Boston was marked by every courtesy and 
 kindness, and we only repeat their own words 
 when we say, they thought more of their reception 
 in Boston than anything which they met with since 
 leaving home. 
 
 For the hour spent in company with James Leddy, 
 Sheriff'McGee, Messrs. McGrath, Barry, McFaddcn, 
 Jones, PlUmley, Sawyer, O'Brien, and Neill, with- 
 out an O', we have only to say, we hope to see them 
 at McKibben's, in Fourth street, one of these days, 
 to renew the kindly feeling so auspiciously com- 
 menced. Nor can we but return our thanks to 
 Mayor Lincoln, for his efforts to produce this good 
 feeling, and carrying out to a successful issue what 
 was 50 universally desired. 
 
 WILLIAM SMITH O'BRIEN IN CLONMEL. 
 
 The following is the answer delivered by William 
 Smith O'Brien to the address of the congregated 
 trades of Clonmel : — 
 
 You will do me the justice to believe that I ac- 
 cept and appreciate the congratulations of the 
 workmen of Clonmel, whom you represent, with as 
 much satisfaction as I have felt in receiving those of 
 the wealthier classes. I have always coiisidered 
 that a man whose life is devoted to industrial pur- 
 suits is entitled, provided he be well conducted, to 
 as much respect as the richest and proudest in the 
 land. Indeed, I have no hesitation in saying that 
 those who are engaged in the usual occupations of 
 life are more to be respected than those who spend 
 days in idleness and self-indulgence. 
 
 You also elo me justice in your address to impute 
 to mfe a desire to assist in developing the intelli- 
 gence of the humble classes of society. I am happy 
 to say that I have never for a moment felt any ap- 
 prehension that the working classes would be dan- 
 gerous if they were highly educated, and I have, 
 therefore, at all times, endeavored to promote every 
 efl'ort which can tend to refine their tastes, and to 
 elevate their social condition. Whenever any of 
 them is able by his industry, enterprise, frugality, 
 or intelligence, to raise himself to an influential 
 position in society, I greet his success with hearty 
 csngratulation. Such being the feelings which I 
 habitually entertain towards the industrial classes, 
 you will understand how highly I value their sym- 
 pathy and approbation. And it aff'ords me great 
 gratification to find that in this town, which was 
 the scene of the most interesting event of my life, 
 such approval is not withheld. 
 
 Having taken several opportunities since my re- 
 turn to Ireland of placing before the country my 
 opinions relative to the present political condition 
 of Ireland, it is unnecessary that I should detain 
 you by again recapitulating them. With respect 
 to the past, even though my public conduct were 
 condemned, instead of being approved, by a large 
 majority of my fellow-countrymen, I should still be 
 sustained by the consciousness that I had endeav- 
 ored, with faithful disinttresledness, to serve the' 
 land of my birth. Now, I have only to re- 
 gret that my attempts to ser\'e Ireland have not 
 been attended with as much success as I could have 
 desired; but I acquiesce in the decrees of Providence 
 which disposes of the destinies of nations, and re- 
 gulates the course of events with a wisdom which 
 we ought not to question — which I dare not im- 
 peach. 
 
 With regard to the future, it is belter that I should 
 abstain from suggesting the occurrence of contingen- 
 cies which may call forth decisive action on the part 
 of the Irish nation. It is possible that sncli contingen- 
 cies may occur in our days, but 1 cannot take upon 
 myself to prescribe any course of action to the nation- 
 alists of Ireland until events shall impose the neces- 
 sity of forming a decision. Perhaps I may then, if 
 called into consultation, oiler my opinion to my fellow- 
 countrymen. At present I can only advise you not 
 to despair of the cause of Ireland's nationality. 
 
 1 can only entreat you to cherish and keep alive the 
 embers of a patriotism which, though often damped by 
 chilling mi8ts,has never yet been wholly extinguished, 
 and which may hereafter, under the kind protection of 
 Heaven, be re-kindled so that it may encircle our be- 
 loved island with the radiance of national glory. 
 
IRISn MISCELLANY. 
 
 2G9 
 
 FOREIGN INTELLIGENCE. 
 
 lUEIANl). 
 
 Postal Sudsiuy to the Galwav Line. — The 
 news of the first instalment of the success of the 
 Galway lino of steamers was communicated to the 
 directors on Monday morning. Lord Eury has im- 
 parted the gratifying intelligence that he has con- 
 ■ eluded the terms of a subsidy with Newfoundland 
 and the imperial government conjointly for that 
 colony. It is understood that this commencement 
 has been made on the most liberal scale, and that 
 we have reason to believe that the future operations 
 of Lord Bury with the remaining colonies will be 
 conducted to a similar issue. It may, therefore, be 
 considered that the Atlantic Royal Steam Naviga- 
 tion Company is now in a position to compete with 
 all or any lines of transatlantic steamers. Lord 
 Bury is at present negotiating with the United 
 States government and the rest of the North Amer- 
 ica-' provinces. Considering the manner in which 
 the Galway company have hitherto fulfilled all 
 their promises, the immense boon conferred upon 
 Ireland by their agency, and the fact that through 
 them British North America may look forward to 
 the happy development of her colossal resources, 
 this intelligence will be received throughout the 
 empire with feelings of unmixed gratification. It 
 is evident that the extension of the Cunard subsidy 
 is not intended by the government as a monopoly 
 to be employed by that energetic individucl, who 
 has certainly done much more to forward and fos- 
 ter the interests of the United States than those of 
 the British colonies, and consequently of the Brit- 
 ish people. Hitherto, it has been a fact that of 
 eight lines of steamers leaving the United Kingdom 
 for various parts of the world, not one has despatch- 
 ed a single vessel from the shores of Ireland. Nor 
 has a single Irish emigrant been enabled, previously 
 to the establishment of the Galway line, to sail even 
 from an English port in a transatlantic steamer, at 
 a cost easily attainable by a poor man. In this 
 respect Ireland has hitherto been little better than 
 a mere barren breakwater to England. No Eng- 
 lishman who has the true interest of his country at 
 heart can desire such a state of things to be perpet- 
 uated. To Newfoundland has occurred the good 
 fortune of being the first to respond eagerly and 
 energetically to a claim which, every colonist must 
 feel, carries a reciprocal boon in favor of this country 
 and himself. So far, then, we heartily congratulate 
 Lord Bury on this first auspicious result of his pa- 
 triotic mission, and we await with eager interest 
 the next instalment of the noble viscount's success- 
 ful negotiation on the other side of the Atlantic. — 
 [Telegraph. 
 
 Ikon Ship Building in WATERFonn. — We learn 
 that the Dutchman, a very fine iron vuobul built at 
 the Neptune Iron AVorks, under the superintend- 
 ence of Mr. Home, has been just purchased by the 
 new Russian company, who obtained from the 
 Sardinian government the lease of a part of one of 
 the ports in the Mediterranean, and that she will be 
 placed on one of the lines running to Civita Vecchia. 
 This vessel, as well as her companion ship the 
 Abeona, has won a very high character. Two other 
 iron steam vessels built in this port were bought by 
 the Sardinian government a few years since, and 
 gave great satisfaction. In addition to the Dutch- 
 man the Russian company have bought from the 
 Messrs. Malcolmson two other steam vessels, the 
 Bc-llona and the Norma; the latter was, we believe, 
 built in Cork.— [Waterford Mail. 
 
 The Bandon Extension Line to SKiimEKEEN. 
 — Negotiations are now pending between some 
 eminent capitalists, railway contractors, and engi- 
 neers, i:i relation to the accomplishment of this un- 
 dertaking. It is expected that the matter will be 
 decided this week, and if favorably for the project, 
 steps will be immediately taken to prepare a bill 
 and push it through Parliament next session, which, 
 of course, if there be no opposition, there can be no 
 difiiculty in doing. 
 
 Japan. — God help the people of Japan ! England 
 bus just succeeded in cilbcting a treaty with their gov- 
 ernment — a treaty of pcriictuul peace and friendthlp, a 
 treaty of everlasting love— and so God help the gov- 
 ernment and the people of Japan. At present they are 
 comfortnUle and contentcti, yea they are rich ; but they 
 lack a navy, and horse, foot, artillery — and so the 
 Lord bo merciful to them ! Soon will their riches 
 be diminished, soon will their contentment disappear — 
 and all through the great love and the good offices of 
 England. Oude was a very fertile country, and its 
 people were rich, and its monarch was unsuspicious ; 
 but England found them out, and made a treaty of 
 perpetual peace, love and friendship with them, and 
 the consequence is to-day patent to the world. The 
 country is ' annexed' to the British possessions, its 
 fair fields are wasted, the monarch is dethroned and in 
 in prison, the people are beggared and in rebellion. A 
 similar course of treatment for Japan is now inaugu- 
 nated, but we have our hopes that it will never be con- 
 summated. There is a canker at the heart of England 
 which is rapidly eating its way through ; the fabric of 
 British power is rotten at the core, and it only requires 
 a shock, which assurdedly will come and is not 
 far distant, to lay the whole in ruins. — [Nation. 
 
 The Kenmahe Estates. — The Tralee Chronicle 
 contains the following most gratifying announce- 
 ment — honorable in the highest degree to Lord 
 Castlerosse, as a model, generous, and considerate 
 Irish proprietor : — 
 
 ' The Leinster estates of the Earl of Kenmare 
 were to be sold in the Ineumbtred Estates Court, 
 the noble proprietor being himself the petitioner. 
 The result of the sale, there can be little doubt, will 
 be to free the splendid estates of Lord Kenmare 
 from all incumbrances. This is the most appropri- 
 ate time to mention a noble act of landlord liber- 
 ality. When it became known that the property 
 was to be sold, a number of the tenantry who had 
 no leases were seized with a panic, and, rushing 
 down to Killarney, waited on Lord Castlerosse, who 
 is now the virtual owner of the estates. His lord- 
 ship not only received them with kindness and hos- 
 pitality, but very soon quieted their fears by giving 
 them leases of 31 years. The effect of this, looking 
 at the rate at which the lands are let, will be, it is 
 calculated by competent judges, to reduce the sel- 
 ling value in the market by ten thousand pounds.' 
 
 The Most Rev. Doctok Cullen — An Irish Car- 
 dinal. — Letters from Rome, received in town this 
 week, give the most gratifying confirmation of the 
 previous accounts of the entire recovery of the ven- 
 erated Archbishop of Dublin. One of these letters, 
 dated the Sdinst., says: — 'Dr. Cullen has^returned 
 from Tivoli in most excellent health and spirits. 
 His recuviry has caused the gic.itest delight here; 
 ai.d 1 am happy to tell you that it is the intention 
 of his Holiness to raise Dr. Cullen to the dignity of 
 the purple, and thus to give to the faithful and de- 
 voted Irish people an Irish Cardinal. I can well 
 imagine the delight with which this intelligence — 
 which you may consider as perfectly accurate — will 
 be hailed in Ireland.' 
 
 The Case of the Coemacks.— Thurles, Tuesday. 
 — We have this evening received a special telegraph 
 from our own reporter, stating that at two o'clock 
 this afternoon a meeting of the Cormack Committee 
 was held at O'Shee's Hotel, the llev. Mr. Mullally, 
 1'. P., in the chair — for the purpose of carrying out 
 the resolutions passed at the county meeting at 
 Ncnagh. After mature considerations a memorial 
 to the executive was adopted, praying for inquiry 
 into the proceedings connected with the trial of the 
 brothers Cormack; and a deputation was appointed 
 for the purpo.se of waiting on the Lord Lieutenant, 
 and urging an accession to the prayer of the memo- 
 rial.— [Telegraph. 
 
 A blind man, about thirty years of age, led by a 
 middle-aged woman, his sister, also blind, or nearly 
 so, passed down the streets a few days ago, playing 
 
 the Irish melodies in exquisite style on a common 
 penny tin whistle ! He played 'John O'Dwycr of 
 the Glen,' 'Tara's Hall,' 'The Exile of Erin,' and 
 other Irish airs, if not as artistically as Picco would 
 have done, yet with infinite feeling and true har- 
 mony, appealing powerfully to the hearts of his au- 
 dience — not a small one — who generously responded 
 to the appeal by showering half-pence and pence 
 into the hand of his conductor, as he passed along. 
 His name is Owen Dowdall, and he is a native of 
 the County of Armagh. The patrons of music in 
 this city might well give him a modest benefit. — 
 [Munster News, Limerick. 
 
 An occasional correspondent informed us a few 
 days ago that the rumor of the formation of a secret 
 society in Bantry was but an elaborate 'ruse' on the 
 part of the people of that town to procure for their 
 bay the advantage of being made a naval station. 
 We were amused at the idea, which we conceived 
 to be a mere 'jeu d'esprit. If it be a joke, how- 
 ever, it has received a curious confirmation, as by 
 the naval intelligence we learn that a formidable 
 squadron is about to anchor in the waters of Ban- 
 try Bay. The following announcement appears in 
 the Globe of yesterday : — 
 
 'The Royal Albert, 131, Captain E. B. Rice, 
 bearing the flag of Rear-Admiral Sir C. Freeman- 
 tie, K. C. B.; the Renown, 91, Captain A. Forbes; 
 the Orion, 90, Captain D'Eyncourt: the Brunswick, 
 80, Captain E. Ommaney; and the gunboat Shipjack, 
 tender to the Admiral, left Plymouth Sound under 
 canvas on Saturday morning for Bantry Bay.' 
 
 Whether or not these floating castles are intended 
 to repress an insurrection in the West or not, we 
 congratulate our Bantry friends upon the opportu- 
 nity they will have of seeing the most celebrated of 
 the vessels which formed the escort of the English 
 Queen to the great fete at Cherbourg — the Royal 
 Albert and the Renown. — [Cork Examiner. 
 
 The Lever Line. — Mr. Lever, the founder of 
 the Transatlantic Steam Packet Line from Galway 
 to America, is now in Paris, accompanied with a 
 deputation, to complete arrangements by which 
 telegraphic communication will be made from all 
 parts of Europe to any port (possessed of a tele- 
 graph station) of America in six days. He will 
 endeavor to secure the adoption by the French gov- 
 ernment of the Galway line for the transmission of 
 their mails, merchandise, and passengers — the mails 
 to be delivered at St. Peter's, Newfoundland, in 
 seven days from Paris. 
 
 Shameful. — A vicar writes to a newspaper : 
 
 ' Judge of my feelings when I read this morning in 
 your advertising columns the following : • For sale, the 
 next presentation to » living in a most beautiful part of 
 the country, on the borders of Oxfordshire and Bucks. 
 There is a superior parsonage house and grounds, and 
 the income amounts to about il70 per annum. Popu- 
 lation small. Incumbent several years of age and a 
 bad life.' He asks what right has any auctioneer to 
 say that his life is a bad one, either morally or physicallv 
 and whether there is no redress against such brutality. 
 [Werecommtnd the old gentlemen to help as inputting 
 an end to such a system. — [Liberator. 
 
 Extrasrdinarv Run et a Sailing Ship. — Ele- 
 ven AND A Half Hours from Holyhead to 
 Queenstown. — The Mersey line clipper Black Eaglo 
 which sailed hence for Melbourne on the 28ih ult ; 
 left the steamtug at 3. A M, the following moruing oft" 
 Holyhead, and was off Queenstown at 3 p. m. on the 
 29th — making the run from the bell buoy to abreast 
 of Queenstown in 24 hours and from Holyhead (where 
 she left the steamer) in 11 1-4 hours. The distance 
 between Holyhead and Queenstown being 164 niilea, 
 the speed obtained was 141-2 knots per hour ; and it 
 is believed to bo the quickest run on record, either by 
 sailing vessel or steamer. — [Liverpool paper. 
 
 The Paris correspondent of the London Globe 
 soys that Galway is about to be adopted by France 
 as the outlet of her postal communication with 
 North America, and that the Lever line will succeed 
 in getting a large subsidy from the Emperor, the 
 projected Havre line having withdrawn in favor of 
 the Galway enterprise. 
 
270 
 
 IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 THE HISTORICAL AND POLITICAL CONNEX- 
 ION OF SCOTLAND WITH IRELAND. 
 
 [cONCIXUtll.] 
 
 The great convention of the Scotic race and tlie last 
 one in which the Argylc colony was represented in 
 the mother country, was held at Uromketh, in the 
 present county of Dcrry, in the year A, D. 590. 
 Hugh, King of Ireland, presided, and there were 
 present all the princes, chiefs and prelates of both 
 countries. The great questions to be settled were 
 three : 1. The proposed suppression of the liaidic 
 order, which, with their attendants, had reached 
 the enormous number of 30,000 men, nearly one- 
 third of the male adult population. 2. The taxa- 
 tion of the colonists in Argyle, by the mother 
 country. 3. The case of the I'rincc of 0330ry,then 
 held close prisoner by the monarch. Aidan, I'rince 
 of Argyle, attended this convention, and thither, 
 also, Columbcille came with a numerous train, set 
 down in an ancient poem at 150, mainly ecclessias- 
 tics. 
 
 Of the incidents of his journey we need not repeat 
 the marvels that are told. He pleaded the cause 
 of the 13ard so effectually that the order was 
 spared. The doctors, or master-singers among them, 
 were prohibited from wandering from place to place; 
 they were assigned residence with the chiefs and 
 princes ; their losel attendants were turned over to 
 other pursuits, and thus a great danger was avert- 
 ed, and one of the most essential of the Scotic insti- 
 tutions being reformed and regulated, was preserved. 
 Scotland and Ireland have good reason to be grate- 
 ful to the founder of lona, for the interposition 
 ■which preserved to us the music, which became, in 
 the lapse of ages, the inspiration of two modern 
 Bards well worthy of the inheritance — llobcrt Burns 
 and Thomas Moore. 
 
 The proposed taxation of Argyle by the mother 
 country, Columbcille strenuously and successfully 
 resisted. Up to this time, the colonists had been 
 bound only to furnish a contingent force, by land 
 and sea, when the King of Ireland went to war, and 
 to make an annual present called ' chief-rent.' If 
 the noble King of Ardghal, enumerated in the 
 ' Leabhar n'g'ccart, as tributary to Tara, the Argyle 
 Princes, he meant, they at the time of the compila- 
 tion of that palimpsest, or of the more ancient one 
 it follows, paid the stipend ' out of Alba ' of seven 
 shields, seven steeds, seven bondswomen, seven 
 bondsmen, and seven hounds iiU of the same breed. 
 But the ' chief-rent," or ' eric for kindly blood,' as 
 it is variously phrased, did not suffice in the year 
 690 to satisfiy King Hugh. The colony had grown 
 great, and like some modem monarchs, he proposed 
 to tax it for its success. Columbcille, though a na- 
 tive of Ireland, and a prince of its reigning house, 
 was by choice a denizen of Caledonia, and he stood 
 true to his colonial neighbors. The Irish king re- 
 fused to continue the connexion on the old condi- 
 tion!), and declared his intention to visit Alba him- 
 self; Columbcille, rising in the convention, declared 
 the Albanians 'forever free from the yoke,' and this 
 adds Geoffrey Keating, ' turned out to be the fact." 
 From this statement we may conclude that Scot- 
 land never paid political tribute to Ireland ; that 
 their relation was that rather of allies than of sove- 
 reign and vassal ; that it resembled more the hom- 
 age Carthage paid to Tyre, and Syracuse to Cor- 
 rinth, than any modem form of colonial dependence; 
 that a federal connexion existed by which, in time 
 of war, the Scots of Argyle, and those of Hibernia, 
 were mutually bound to aid, assist and defend each 
 other. 
 
 This perpetual alliance, founded in the blood of 
 both nations, sanctioned by their early saints, con- 
 firmed intermarriage by a common language and 
 literature, and by hostility to common enemies, the 
 Saxons, Danes, and Xormans grew into a political 
 bond of uncommon strength and power. Before I 
 mention the most remarkable proofs of its continued 
 
 elKcicncy for ten centuric8,let me call yourattention 
 to the general fact, tlmt Scotland and Ireland never 
 liad a national quarrel. There were Scottish expe- 
 ditions against .Man and against the Orkneys ; there 
 were constant war< between Scotland and England; 
 but Ireland never invaded Scotland, nor Scotland 
 Ireland. 
 
 During the successive Danish invasion of both 
 countries, we constantly find the two nations com- 
 batting side by side. These invasions were almost 
 uninterrupted from the close of the 8th till the be- 
 ginning of the 11th century. At first they may 
 have been more predatory incursions under inde- 
 pendent chiefs — those terrible Vikings, who issued 
 with their long ships out of the Baltic, chanting 
 battle songs to their God, and marked with the 
 runes of death. One conspicuous fact will show 
 how the Scots of both sides the Irish sea assisted 
 each other against them,. 
 
 The most disastrous battle which the Danes ever 
 fought in the West was unquestionably that of 
 Clontarf, fought on Good Friday, 1014. Of the in- 
 vaders, Bruder, the Danish leader, and Sitrick, Earl 
 of the Orkneys, a deadly enemy of both Scotias, fell; 
 of the Scots, Brian, King of Ireland, his son, grand- 
 son, and several of his nobles, and the Maormars 
 (High-Stewards) of Man and Levin in Alba. In 
 the chronicles of Denmark, Brian's battle is men- 
 tioned as the most memorable of its age. In Adel- 
 mais chronicle, and the chronicle of Merianus ; in 
 the Scandinavian collections of Forfaeus and John- 
 stone, as well as in Gray's translation of ' the Fatal 
 Sisters,' and Moore's matchless melody, ' the Mem- 
 ory of Brian,' is amply honored. His own poet, 
 McLcig, who survived him less than two years, in 
 his pathetic address to Kinkora, the palace of 
 Brian, asks where is ' the faith-keeping prince of 
 the Scots,' who of old sat with the chiefs at the feast 
 in thy halls, and drank the red wine. Where ! oh, 
 Kinkora ' 
 
 It is remarkable that the year 1014 is given by all 
 the Scotch writers as that in which the Danes fi- 
 nally abandoned their country also. So reasonable 
 is it to conclude that, when the brave Maormars of 
 Levin and Man fell at Clontarf, they were fighting 
 the battle of Alba as well as of Erin. 
 
 In the Plantagenet invasions of Scotland they 
 sometimes summoned the Irish chiefs to accompany 
 them at the head of their clans ; but I do not know 
 an instance in which any Scoto-Milesian prince an- 
 swered to the call. The Hiberno-Norman piers, the 
 Butlers and De Burghs, whose kindred tics were 
 with the invader, often obeyed his requisitions ; 
 but though before the campaign of Bannockburn 
 every notable Irish chief was invited to join Edward 
 II., we do not find one of them named, as among 
 either the prisoners or the slain. I know Sir Wal- 
 ter Scott has sung how — 
 
 * Connoght poured from waste and wood 
 Her hundred tribes, whose sceptre rude 
 Dark Eth O'CoDnor sway'd.' 
 But there is no mention of Scoto-Milesians on the 
 English side in the battle ; while there is the evi- 
 dence both of ' Blind Harry," and of Barbour, for 
 reckoning Irish Scots among the adherents both of 
 Wallace and Bruce. The second Henry's invasion 
 of Ireland, in the 12th century, had given the two 
 kingdoms a common enemy in the third. They had 
 previously, in the Danish wars, assisted each oihi;r on 
 both sides of tlie Iiibh sea. And now that the family 
 of Bruce had enhanced the glory of Scottish name, it 
 was to him the Irish looked as their natural alley, of- 
 fering to his brother Edward their crown, on condition 
 of hi« helping them to repeat on Irish ground the vic- 
 tory of Bannockburn. 
 
 The family of Bruce were bound by genealogical 
 
 bonds, then kept bright and strong, to both the Scot- 
 
 i tish monarchies. The first llobert Brucj — Baliol's 
 
 competitor— was grand-nephew to William, King of 
 
 Scotland. He stood, also, maternally in close relation 
 
 to Ocrmid, King ofLeinsler, whose daughter Eva, the 
 prizoliridc of Siroiigbow, Earl of I'cnilirokc, lift a 
 daughter, who by William, Earl .Marshal, li-ft again 
 four or five other daughters — co-heirisucs, from whom 
 the Bruces in Scothmil, the Mortimers in England, and 
 oilier nolilc families, were miiternnlly derived. The 
 second Bobi rt Bruce, grandson of the lirsi, was, in_ 
 l.'iOO, but 32 years of ai;e when he stalibcd his rival, 
 the red Comyn, in the Dominican chun-li of Dumfries. 
 He was one of several brothers of whom four are 
 known to us byname: Edward, Thomas, Alexander, 
 and Nigel The commencement of his reign ia known 
 to have been disastrous, and it was not until the day 
 of Bannockburn — eight years afier his coronation, that 
 ho could be said to wear the crown with any degree of 
 security. This justly celebrated event is llic best 
 known of his life ; but other passages which connect 
 the name of Bruce, inseparably with the history of 
 Ireland, are not less certain and authentic. 
 
 It will sound strange to some at this day, to hear 
 tliat Edward Bruce, brother of Kobert, reigned three 
 whole years in Ireland, from May, 1316, to May, 1319, 
 surrounded by a court and army, and in poseesjion of 
 a great part of the kingdom. This possession he un- 
 doubtedly owed to the fame of his illustrious brother, 
 who had passed the first winter of his reign a fugitive 
 in the island of Raiblin, and who had returned to re- 
 claim his crown, backed by Irish volunteers, An inti- 
 macy had then been established, which continued 
 throughout life ; for Robert Bruce was as remarkablo 
 for generosity in friendship as for his deadly hatred. 
 Some of his Irish allies had shared the fate of their 
 captain brothers, Thomas and Alexander, in I3U7, 
 and had died for the Scottish cause on the scaffold at 
 Carlisle. Other Irishmen were in his army at Ban- 
 nockburn, and the name of a very considerable territo- 
 ry. KincardineO'Niel still attests bis generosity to 
 one of his Irish allies, — ' When intelligence arrived ' 
 [in Ireland] says Dr. Lingard, ' of the victory at Ban- 
 nockburn, it was received with enihusiasm, and the 
 conviction that the English were not invincible, 
 awiikened a hope that Ireland might recover her inde- 
 pendence. Edward discovered that an active corres- 
 pondence was carried en between the men of Ulster 
 and the court of Bruce.' In the month of May, 1315, 
 Edward Bruce, with 6000 men, landed at Carrickf'er- 
 gus, and was immediately joined by Donald O'Niel, 
 Prince of Ulster, and other northern chiefs. The fol- 
 lowing year, O'Neil formally resigned his claims to 
 the sovereignty in his favor, and he was crowned at 
 Dundalk, with all possible solemnity. Of brief reign, 
 I have not time to speak in detail; he was slain in 
 battle, in his third year, in consequence of his own 
 rash haste, or as an old writer expresses it, 'his own 
 wilfulness, that would not tarry for his full company, 
 that were about at hand.'* 
 
 At another point of great pohtical interest, we find 
 the traditions of ancient policy still influential at the 
 Scottish court. This was in 1041, when Henry VIII, 
 of England, after many years of negotiation, at last ob- 
 tained the crown and title of ' King of Ireland,' when 
 the Irish arms were first quartered with the great seal 
 of England, and the English heralds proclaimed the 
 king's new title at Paul's Cross, london, and from 
 Lc Dame's gate in Dublin. In the ' State papers of 
 Henry VIII,' there are two volumes dedicated to his 
 Irish policy, and two others to his Scottish intrigues 
 and negotiations. We there find his agent at the 
 court of Scotland, informing him how in 1539, ' eight 
 Irish gentlemen ' had arrived in Sterling, to offer their 
 country's crown to James Vlh — the vanquished of 
 Flodden-field, and the father of the ill-fated Queen 
 Mary. Among the last to recognize the new title of 
 Henry, was the same king, who naturally did not wish 
 to see the pretensions of his own house exiinguished, 
 though be was, at the moment, in no condition to 
 maintain them by arms. But that which be desired 
 did indeed come to pass, though not in any manner 
 he could have foreseen ; when on the death of Eliza- 
 beth, his grandson, James Vlth, of Scotland, attained 
 
 •Lei. Coll. n., p. 647 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 271 
 
 the sovereignly of the three kingdoms, under the title 
 ot'.Tiiines I. Thus the crown of Irehind did, in liidf a 
 century, pass from Henry's descendants to Ids own. 
 
 [In the suhsoqncnt piissiifjcs of the U?ciure, Mr. Mc 
 Gee pointed out the Iliherno-Scoitiali nllianeo illustra- 
 ted by the union of McDonnlil of Antrim with Mon- 
 trose, of Colonel O'Kiine with Dundee, and the fealty 
 of Stapleton, O'Sullivan and O'Niil, to the unfortu- 
 nate Charles Edward. But those are couipanitively 
 niodorn events, which any render may master for him- 
 self] 
 
 ADVERTISEMENTS 
 
 MERCANTILE. AND WRITING SCHOOL, 
 
 E. J. GLEESON, Master. 
 
 This School is now opened at No. 23 Portland Street, 
 a few doors south of Dooley's Exchange Hotel, where a 
 select and limited number of the Youth of both sexes will 
 be admitted ; time from 9 A. M. to 12 M., and from 2 P. M 
 to 6 P. M. 
 
 TERMS MODERATE. 
 
 EVENING SCHOOL! 
 
 This school will be opened in the same place on the first 
 evening of next month, where adults and those of riper 
 years, will be carefully and assiduously instructed in the 
 various branches of learning-, suitable to their calling. 
 
 BOOK-KEEPING : 
 
 Mr. Gleeson ventures to say, and pledges himself without 
 hesitation, that he will qualify young gentlemen for the 
 Counting Room, in half the time that is consumed in simi- 
 lar institutions in this city, and at considerable less ex- 
 pense. 
 
 August 17th, 1858. aug28 
 
 FINE READY MADE CLOTHING 
 
 — ASD— 
 
 CUSTOM TAILORING. 
 
 SPiUNG OVERCOATS. 
 
 BUSINESS COATS, 
 
 FROCK AND DRESS COATS, 
 
 PANTS AND VESTS, 
 Good, Stylish, Weli, Made Garments, 
 Such as men of taste and good judgment will wear, can at 
 all times be found at our store. 
 Our aim is to produce for our customers the best Ready 
 Made Garments at the lowest possible prices por 
 CASH. 
 
 Readers of this Journal are earnestly solicited to exam- 
 ine our goods before purchasing. 
 
 J W. SMITH & CO., 
 
 Dock Square, corner Elm Street. 
 myll tf 
 
 SOUTH END CATHOLIC BOOK STORE, 
 
 And Depot for the Sale of the 
 
 METROPOLITAN AND YOUTHS' MAGAZINES. 
 
 WILLIAM KEATING, Agent, 
 
 8 1-2 Harrison Avenue, or at his New Periodica! Store, 176 
 
 Harrison Avenue, Boston, Mass., 
 
 Where n great variety of the most popular Books and 
 
 Papers cam be had at the very lowest prices, 
 
 WILL supply Clubs, Agents, Canva.-isers, &c.. on the 
 same terms as the Publishers. The following are 
 tile terms — 3 copies will be sent by mail, to one address, tor 
 one year So ; 6 copies for SIO ; 13 copies for S20 ; 20 copies 
 for S30. 
 
 E7" On the receipt of S3, three copies of the Catholic 
 Youth's Magazine and one copy of the Metropolitan will 
 be mailed regularly for one year. 
 
 ^Tr" A few sets of the Magazines from the beginning, can 
 be had of the Agent. Also, all new books furnished as 
 soon as published. ap24 3mo8 
 
 DO'KOUKKE, respectfully informs his friends and the 
 . public, that he keeps constantly on hand COI'i''INS 
 of all .'<ize8 and kinds, at his Collin Manufactory, No. 317 
 Federal, between Bench and Kneelnnd Stjeets, Boston, 
 which he will sell as reasonable as can be bought at any oth- 
 er place in the city. 
 
 Is. IS.— Orders punctually attended to, day or night. 
 
 Residence, No. 28 .South street, Boston. 
 
 (C7"Grave-Clothes furnished to order at short notice. 
 
 feblS 
 
 W. J. HENNESSY, 
 ARTIST, 
 
 No. 87 FRANKLIN STREET, 
 NEW YORK CITY. 
 
 ADVERTISEMENTS. 
 
 OLD COLONY HOUSE. 
 
 PATRICK HOLLY begs leave to announce to his pat- 
 rons and the public geuerully that he has coustantly 
 on hand at his old and well-known stiiud, 
 
 THE OLD COLONY HOUSE, 
 
 CORNER OF KNEELAND AND SOUTH STREETS, 
 
 A choice assortment of 
 
 BRANDIES, ^^^;NES, scotch & IRISH 
 
 WHISICEY, CIGARS, &c. &c., 
 
 all of the very first quality, which can be obtained too at 
 
 LOWER RATES 
 
 than elsewhere in the market; in proof of which he invites 
 purchasers to give him a call. aug 28 
 
 NOKTHERN HOUSE, 
 
 NORTH SQUARE— BOSTON. 
 
 JOHN CLANCY Proprietor. 
 
 This House has rooms equal to any first class Hotel, and 
 permanent or transient Boarders can be accommodated 
 nearly one half cheaper than at any other House in the 
 City. 
 
 In the Keading Room can be found all the morning and 
 eveniug papers, and periodicals of the day, together with 
 an extensive Library, for the free and exclusive use of 
 
 the BoARDKRS. 
 
 N. B. Strangers visiting Boston, can always find this 
 House a Home. 
 
 J. & R. MURPHY, 
 
 MANUFACTURERS OF 
 
 SURGICAL AND DENTAL INSTRUMENTS- 
 CUTLERY, 
 
 AND STEEL WORK OF EVERY KIND, 
 No. 3 HARVARD PLACE, (opposite the Old South,) 
 
 BOSTON, Mass. 
 (l^Cutlery and Instruments of all kinds Repaired, 
 ly aug28 
 
 GENERAL TICKET OFFICE 
 
 — FOR THE — 
 
 SOUTHERNAND WESTERN STATES 
 
 THE CAN ADAS, 
 No. 2 AiEANT Street, Boston. 
 
 EDWARD RYAN, Agent. 
 
 N. B.— Passage to and from Liverpool, and Bills of Ex- 
 change on England, Ireland and Scotland. 
 
 ap24 ly 
 
 FRANCIS GODFREY, 
 
 IMPORTER AND RESTORER OF 
 
 ITALIAN PAINTINGS, 
 
 AND MANUFACTURER OF GILT FRAMES, 
 
 12 Franklin Street, Boston. 
 tCT" Engravings, Lithographs, Crayons, &c., on sale. 
 3m aBg28 
 
 CATHOLIC BOOK STORE. 
 
 WILLIAM UICKEY, Catholic Bookseller, and Agent 
 for the Extensive Publishing House of D. & J. 
 Sadlier & Co., of New York. 
 The latest and most varied stock of Religious Prints, 
 MISSALS, PRAYER BOOKS, CROSSES, 
 and all the Current Literature, constantly on hand. 
 
 No. 128 Federal (corner op Williams) street, 
 BOSTON, MASS. 
 
 P . MORRIS, 
 
 APOl'HECARY, 
 
 Corner of Federal and Purchase streets, foot of Summer 
 
 street, Boston. 
 
 STRICT personal attention paid to compounding Physi 
 clan's Prescriptions. A choice selection of Family 
 Jlu(licMi.-i coii^lautly on hand. A well selected stock of 
 gcMuMn' iiM].c„i,(l rci-riimery and Fancy (.ioods. Soda 
 V\ iiiir with cliiiicc .Syrups. A large assortment of genuine 
 lla\ una .Segurs constantly on hand. op6 
 
 /-^i ILMOliE'S SALEM QUADRILLE BAND. E. UP- 
 VT'luN, Jr., Prompter. Apply to P. S. Gilmork, Ee- 
 aex House, Sa LEU, Mass. feblS 
 
 ADVERTISEMENTS. 
 
 THE IRISH VINDICATOR. 
 
 A WEFJCLY NEWSPAPER, 
 The Best and Cheapest Published in America. 
 
 THIS splendid Paper, which is little over nine montha 
 n existence, has met with the 
 
 M,j WONDERFUL SUCCESS, 
 
 and has been pr^,>.„jnced by the Press and the Public to be 
 superior to any other Irish Weekly iu the United States. 
 
 It contains each week, the very 
 Latest News prom every County in Ireland ; 
 Original and entertaining 
 STORIES AND ANECDOTES, 
 and a variety of Miscellaneous Reading matter, of a cbarao- 
 ter which cannot fail to elevate and chasten the intel- 
 lectual appetite. The Irish Vindicator is devoted 
 
 TO THE INTERESTS OF IRISHMEN IN AMERICA, 
 and is so cheap as to be within the reach of the poorest. 
 
 ONLY THREE CENTS A COPY. 
 
 the following are the terms 
 
 To any part of the United States, for one year, S1.60 
 
 Do. do. Ido. for 8 months, 1.00 
 
 Do. do. do. for 4 months, 0.60 
 
 Do. do. do. fori month, 0.12 
 
 To any part of Canada or the British Provinces, one year 
 
 $2,00— All payments in advance. 
 
 SINO, 
 
 12 lines, single insertion 31.00 i 12 lines, 1 month, 82.50 
 12 do. 3 months, 6.50 | 12 do. 1 year, 16.00 
 
 Published every week, at the OflTice, No 10 Spruce street 
 New York, by the Proprietors. 
 
 EDWARD DOWNES CONNERY & CO. 
 
 New York, march 27 
 
 THE SOUTHERN CITIZEN, 
 
 IS published weekly at Knoxville, Tennessee, by JOHN 
 MITCHELL & WM. G. SWAN, at S2 per annum, or 
 $1 for SIX months, payable invariably in advance. 
 
 Mr. Mitchell having commenced in the 2Sth number of 
 the paper, a series of Letters addressed to the Hon. Alex- 
 ander H. Stephens of Georgia, which when completed will 
 furnish an entire history of 
 
 THE IRISH TROUBLES OF 1848, 
 
 With their Causes and Consequences, 
 
 The Southern Citizen will be the more interesting to both 
 American and Irish readers. Besides these contributions 
 from Mr. Mitcbel, the Southern Citizen will continue to 
 have its usual quantity of original matter upon political 
 and literary subjects prepared by him. The circulation, 
 though large and coustantly increasing, the proprietors 
 have thought will be much more extended by an announce- 
 ment in this form. 
 
 Communications with remittances may be addresedto 
 Mitcliel & Swan, Knoxville, Tennessee, or to any of the 
 following Agents; 
 
 S G Courtenay & Co, Charleston, S C; Thomas B O'Con- 
 nor, Savannah, Ga; J C Morgan, New Orleans, La; Jas A 
 Gentry, Qichmond,Va; Alexander Adamson, Washington 
 city; Tallinage& Tunner, Cincinnati, O; PM Haverty, 110 
 Fulton street, N Y"; S H Goetzel, 33 Dauphin street. Mobile 
 Ala; Benj B Davis, Masonic Building, Montgomery, Ala; 
 Ross & Toucey, 121 Nassau street, N Tl , supply dealers only 
 upon reasonable terms; James McGinn, 121 Kearney street 
 San Francisco. 
 
 *,* Clubs of ten will be supplied with the paper tor SIS. 
 
 CLUBS! CLUBS!! CLUBS!!! 
 
 There is no town or village so small, but a club of six or 
 ore subscribers for the Irish Miscellany can be easily ob- 
 tained. Will those of our friends who are well-wishers ot 
 the land of their birth, do us the favor of getting up Clubs. 
 Our terms will be — 
 To aclub of six persons sent to one address, §10,00 
 
 To a club of twelve, 19.00 
 
 The whole of the money must invariably be sent at one 
 remittance, and in advance. 
 
 In addition to this great reduction of price, each member 
 of a Club will be entitled to copies of all our splendid Gift 
 Pictures. Let our friends exert themselves, and by their 
 patronage make the Miscellany the foremost Irish journa 
 on this contiueut. 
 
 TRAVELLING ACENTS WANTED. 
 
 We have determined to appoint a number of Travelling 
 Agents, to travel in the various States of the Union and 
 canvass for subscribers for this paper We do this at the 
 earnest request of many warm friends, who think we do 
 not take the requisite steps to make the paper known as ex- 
 tensively as it ought to be. 
 
 I'ersons desirous of becoming Travelling Agents, who 
 can be well recommended, are requested to apply at our 
 olhce forthwith. None but faithful, reliable men need ap 
 ply. To such a liberal commission will be allowed. Apply 
 at ourPublicalion Office, 4 Water street, Boston. 
 
 Back Numbers of the Miscellany, from the commence 
 ment of the paper, may be procured tlirough any of our 
 regular agents, or by sending direct to the office of publi 
 cation. No. 4 Water street, Boston. Will our friends in 
 want boar this fact in mind ? 
 
272 
 
 IRISH MISCELLAI^Y. 
 
 CORRESPONDENCE. 
 
 ^Editor of the Irisli Mi.Milluny : — 
 
 Sir — 1 have been a rtsder of your model little 
 sheet since its first issue, and have watched with in- 
 finite pleasure its progress, ond tm proud to sec 
 that it is growing (and very justly) adeeided favor- 
 ite. To nie it was immaterial who was proprietor, 
 or who conductor, so long as it cxibited the marks 
 of talent, and contained that Irish miscellaneous 
 matter which is dear to every true Irishman ; but 
 then, when I saw the announcement that that phil- 
 antliropic Irishman, Sergeant Thomas t)' Neill, had 
 become proprietor, ray heart leaped with joy, and 
 I then said that we were going to have in Uoston, 
 most undoubtedly, a really enlightened and patri- 
 otic Irish vindicator. It is now incumbent on every 
 lover of the Circen Isle, east and west, north and 
 south, to come forward and make this paper what 
 it ought to be — a leading Irish journal oji this con- 
 tinent. 
 
 The man who has always been on hand when the 
 interest of his countrymen required it ; who has met 
 the foul insult, and hurled it back in the face of the 
 insulter ; who has always, and in every place, 
 gloried in being an Irishman, and who has always 
 been the vindicator of our tbused Catholicity ; who 
 has gratuitously, and without a hope of regard, 
 worked, both as contributor, and by getting sub- 
 scribers, to promote every patriotic Irish newspaper 
 started in Boston, New York, &c., should now, 
 as he has taken to journalism on his own 'hook,' 
 meet with that support which his services for his 
 fellow-covntrymen merit. Come forward, then, fel- 
 low countrymen, one and all, and give merit its 
 reward, and fill up all the spare leaves in the ser- 
 geant's subscription book. In every town, in every 
 village, especially among boot and shoemakers, as 
 the sergeant belongs to that fraternity, you should 
 form a committee to wait on your countrymen 
 to solicit their subscriptions, and there should be an 
 emulation among you as to who would send in 
 the most names. You should also help their travel- 
 ling agent when he calls on you, by giving him 
 instructions as on whom he will call, and where he 
 will find his country folks. 
 
 I do hereby, to prove I feel as I write, promise 
 ' Red Hand ' (the sergeant) that, ere a month shall 
 go by, to treat him to one hundred subscribers. 
 Shoemaker. 
 
 Boston, Nov. 25, 1858. 
 
 THE ORPHAN'S FAIR. 
 About the time this issue of our paper reaches the 
 public, the great charity fair for the orphans will be 
 about to close, and as it is not anticipated to make 
 another appeal again, it is a duty due such a be- 
 nevolent iottitution, that every one who can should 
 g:ive it their aid. We know of no more especial call 
 upon the heart than this, aiding to house and clothe and 
 instruct those little ones who have been deprived by 
 death of father and motlier, and left to the tender 
 mercies of a cold and unfeeling world. The benevo- 
 lent should not nej^dect the charge committed to their 
 care, but should take an especial pride in enabling the 
 Sisters to provide against tlie inclemancy of the com- 
 ing winter, ensuring the children a warm home, and 
 that care which their years and friendless condition 
 demand from a Chrisiain people. 
 
 It is said that S12 per foot has been offered for the 
 remainder of the land now the site of the lionian 
 Catholic Cathedral, which the city does not require 
 for thcnew street The sum total for the cathedral is 
 SUO.OOO. This will make a good foundation for the 
 new Cathedral we may expect to see in this city with 
 in a few years. 
 
 ADVERTISEMENTS. 
 
 rASS.V(;K RKULX-Kl) lilVrWKKN 
 
 LIVERPOOL AND BOSTON. 
 
 MERCHANTS' LINE 
 
 BOSTON AND LIVEKI'OOL PACKETS; 
 
 PAIUNO FROM LIVERPOOL DlltUOT TO BOSTON EVERY 
 riVTEKN DAYB. 
 
 rpilE SPLENDID I'ACKETS comprieing this line arc as 
 ± lollows:- 
 
 Sliips. Tons. Captains. 
 
 CO.MMOUORE- - - - WW Uli«8 
 
 Carlyle 2000 Maxwell 
 
 SuAWMUT . . - . 100(j liigifins 
 
 Mongolia - - - . IWJO Melcher 
 
 TllOB- J EKKERBON - 1600 11 ill 
 
 Walter ScoTT - - 1800 Smith 
 
 I"KiNCEBa KoVAL - - 2000 Hartley 
 
 KICUAUD MoKSE - - 1600 Diusmore 
 
 'IHALAITA - - - . 1750 StiuBOn 
 
 Cambria - - . . 1850 I'erry 
 
 I'ocAiioNTis - - - 1700 Deliind 
 
 Rupus CnoATE - - 1500 Iticli 
 
 These ships are all of the lirst class, mostly new, and built 
 expressly for the Liverpool trade; spacious between decks, 
 well ventilated, with all the modern improvements lor the 
 conilort, health and safety of passengers. They are com- 
 manded by American Captains of known e.xperieiicG and 
 kindness, who will carefully look to all the wants of the 
 passengers during the voj,-age. 
 
 Kach ship will be furnisUed with proper Medical attcu- 
 dance. 
 
 I'erfons sending for their friends in the Old Co«utry can 
 DEPEND on having them ordered up pro.mptly lor the 
 I'-iusT suips, and ut such times as will prevent their being 
 detained in Liverpool, as is often practiced by the other 
 lines. 
 
 RATES OF PASSAGE 
 from Liverpool to Boston (including provisions) : — 
 For persons 12 jears of age, and over, - - - $20 00 
 
 For children under 12 years, 15 00 
 
 For iul'ants under 1 year, at time of embarkation, 3 00 
 
 REMITTANCES. 
 Bills of E.xchange on England, Ireland, Scotland, Wales 
 and Germany, for sale in sums to suit. 
 
 Passengers forwarded weekly to all parts of Europe by 
 Steam and Sailing vessels. 
 
 PAGE RICHARDSON & CO., 
 
 134 State street, Boston. 
 
 ay For PASSAGE CERTIFICATES from and to Liver- 
 pool, and Bills of Exchange, or for any information as 
 above, apply personally or By letter to 
 
 LAWRENCE & RYAN, Agents, 
 
 ti271y No. il Broad street, Boston. 
 
 ATLANTIC ROYAL MAIL STEAM NAVIGA- 
 TION COMPANY'S 
 
 NEW YORK AND GALWAY LINE. 
 
 TUE next departure from New York will be the steam- 
 ship 
 
 PEINCE ALBERT Thursday, Dec. 2. 
 
 Touching at St. John's, NF., to receive the royal mails. 
 
 Prices of passage— First class S90; second do, S50; third 
 do, S30; including fiee tickets to all the principal cities on 
 railway routes in Great Britain. Third class must provide 
 plate, knife, fork, &o., and bedding. 
 
 Passage to St. John's— First class, S35; second do, S25. 
 
 For freight or passage inquire of the American E.xpress 
 Company, 01 Hudson street, and at their other advertised 
 offices in the interior. I'assage in the third class can be se- 
 cured at any of the above offices to bring persons out from 
 any of the principal cities on the lines of railway in Great 
 Britain for :^35j or from Galway for ?30. 
 
 Application lor freight or passage may also be made to 
 NA/UU BUUTHEUS & SWEENEY, No. 5 Chatham Row, 
 Boston. aMEUICAN E.X'PKESS CO.MPANV. 
 
 A LE.X ANDEK HOLLiVND, Manager 
 
 New York, Nov. 13, 1858. ly d4 
 
 The Southern Citizen, published at Knoxville.Tenn., 
 by Mr. John Mitchell, has been removed to Washing- 
 ington, D. C, its increasing circulation making such 
 a change necessary. 
 
 TURKEY SALVE 
 
 HEALS ULCERATED SORES, FELONS, 
 Burns, Whitlow, Palm Abscis, skin or water Scrofu- 
 la, Ulcerated Sore Legs, Bruises, Chapped Hands, Ulcers in 
 the Neck, Scald Head in Children, FVosted Feet, Sore Nose, 
 Boils, Bleeding Piles, Ulcerated Sore Breast, Sore Nipples, 
 Inflamed Breasts made to supperate in twelve hours, with- 
 out a resort to the ' knile.' There is no Salve before the 
 public 80 powerful as this, being entirely made from the 
 strongest herbs, roots and barks. It can be reduced so as 
 to be applied to a child one week old, or be made strong 
 enough to dress an ulcer every half hour, even alter morti- 
 flcatiou sets in, so that this salve will do more good in one 
 day than all others in one week. 
 
 N. B.— I give my entire attention to healing Ulcerated 
 Sores, and warrant perfect cure, failing in which I make no 
 charge. My motto is, 'No cure no pay.' Charges moder- 
 ate. 
 
 FRANCIS F. SPRING. 
 
 d41m IS High street, Boston. 
 
 LAWUF.N-CE BKIGADE BAND. J. Diamond, Lend- 
 er. Are prepared to furnish Music for Military and 
 Civic Parades. I'lc-Nics, Festivals, &c. Also, a tiuadrille 
 Band furnished, if desired. Address J. Desmond, care of 
 Rev. J. U'Donnell, Lawrence, Mass. 
 
 ADVEKTI8EMENTB. 
 
 STEAM TO ALL PARTS OF GREAT BRITAIN 
 
 —VIA THB — 
 
 ATLANTIC ROYAL MAIL STEAMSHIP COS 
 
 NEW YORK AND GALWAY LINE. 
 
 THIS is the shortcut route between Kurone and Amer- 
 ica. Tlie line is composed of iiuwerlul uud fiutt Bail- 
 ing fiteuiUNliip.s, ubly otlictirvd, and lurnitihed willi evury- 
 thinf( ri>qiiir<itc tu render the voyage Httt'o und agreeable. 
 The departures from New York lor (Jalwuy will be lu fol- 
 lows, until further notice, viz- — 
 rUINCK ALMEKT, C'apt. Water**, fhurpday, D8ceraber2. 
 
 FertionH viniting Ireland reach their de.itination in three- 
 fourths the time taken bv any other route, and all have an 
 opportunity ol vittiting places and scenery of unrivalled in- 
 tereKt in Ireland. 
 
 I'rice of passage, including free tickctA by the usual rail- 
 road routes from (jalwaytoany of the principal cities ol 
 Great llritaiu, at the following reduced rates:— First class 
 SW. second class SoO, third class S30. 
 
 TliOHC wishing to briug their friends to this country can 
 purchase tickets for their passage in third class from (ial- 
 way at S30, or from other cities in Great Britain, accessible 
 by railroad, S35. A liberal cabin table will be provided, 
 and cooked provisions for third class passengcni to and 
 from Galway. 
 
 For frei^^ht and passage and further particulars apply to 
 the American Express Company, Ul Hudson street, New 
 York, or to 
 
 NAZUO BROTHERS & SWEENEY, 
 
 ol6 tf 5 Chatham Row, Uoston. 
 
 PASSENGER CERTIFICATES. 
 
 TO OLD COUNTRYMEN. Owkn Mo Namara has 
 Passage Certificates and Drafts always on hand and 
 for sale. As he does business for that most respectable 
 bouse, (Williams & Guion) in New York. Old Countrymen 
 desiring to send for their friends, or remit money, would 
 do welfto give him a call at No. 4 Gouuau St.. opposite 
 Summer St., Lowell, Mass ap'ltl 
 
 TEN READY WAYS TO 3IAKE MONEY, bein-r ten 
 original receipts for the manutacture of usefuF arti- 
 cles, which command a quick i-ale, and insure a full pocket. 
 Formerly sold for So; but now sent to any person lor ou« 
 gold dollar. Address T L. REILLY. Teace Dale, li. I. 
 al8 6t 
 
 TREANOR & GUINEY, ATTORNEYS akd COUNSEL- 
 LORS AT LAW, 15 Massachusetts Block, Courtsquare, 
 Boston. 
 
 [CT^l'articular attention paid to Conveyancing;, and the 
 examination of titles of Real Estate. febl 
 
 OUR AGENTS. 
 
 Boston.— John J. Dyer, & Co., 35 School street; A. Wil- 
 liams & Co., ICK) Washington street; Fedhcren & Co., 9 and 
 13 Court street; Wm. Hickey, 128 Federal street; Howe Ic 
 Co.) 11 Court Avenue; and William Keating, 176 Harrison 
 Avenue, 
 
 Bangor, Me.— Edward J. Kellcher. 
 
 New York.— Dexter & Brother, 14 & IG Ann street. 
 
 Troy, N. Y'. — Francis Roarke. 
 
 Philadelphia.— A. Winch, 320 Chestnut street. 
 
 Ohio. — M. H. Bird, Cincinnati, and Hawks k Brothers, 
 Cleaveland. 
 
 Detroit, Mich. — J. A. Roys. 
 
 St. Louis, Missouri. — Thomas Duggan. 
 
 New Orleans, La.— James M. Shine. 
 
 California— James McGinn, of San Francisco. 
 
 The Miscellany may also be had, retail, of newspaper and 
 periodical dealers throughout the country. 
 
 TRAVELLING AGENTP. 
 
 John Warren, 50 Andover street, for Boston and Ticinity 
 James Doyle, of Millbury, Mass. M. Findlay McKay, 
 of Amesbury, Mass. Edward H. Keeuan, of North Ferris- 
 burg, Vt. Michael F. Hackett, of Providence. R. I. James 
 Sullivan, of New Haven, Ct. James CuUeu. of West Troy, 
 N. Y. Daniel A. Brosnan. of M'ashington, D. C. 
 
 RATES OF ADVERTISING. 
 
 FOR KACH SQUARE OF TWBLVK LIN^BS. 
 
 First insertion, . . . Sl.OO i Three months, . . »5.00 
 
 Each subseriuent do . 60 | One vear, .... 16.00 
 
 Six lines or less constitute Iialf a square. 
 
 Larger advertisements charged in proportion. 
 
 Business Notices, solid . . . 10 cents per liae. 
 
 *^ leaded . . . 15 '' " *' 
 
 BUSINESS CARDS of bix lines ob less. 
 
 For On Mouth, . . . S1.50 I Six Months, , . . »5.00 
 
 Three Months, . . . S3.00 1 One Year, .... »8.00 
 
 *»*A1I adrertisementfi payable in advance. 
 
 THE 
 IRISH MISCELLANY 
 
 Is published weekly, and devoted to the interests and vin- 
 dication of the Irish people throughout the world. 
 
 The Miscellany republi.''hes each week one whole number 
 of the old ' Dublin 1'knnt Journal,' with original and 
 eelected essays, reviews, poetry, &c., by Irishmen, of first- 
 rate ability. It also contains beautiful Pictorial Illustra- 
 tions of Irish scenery and other objects of Interest, amon^ 
 which may be enumerated engravings of the ancient cas- 
 tles and round lowers, the ruins of the old churches, the 
 plundered monasteries, convents and abbeys of Ireland. 
 
 It will also contain correct Pictorial representations ot 
 works of art executed by Irishmen of the present day, as 
 well ixs in former times, in this country and throughout 
 Europe. 
 
 Tkums.- 32,00 per yeiir, invariably in advance. 
 THOMAS O'NEILL. rru.PEiETOU, 
 MICHAEL J. WALSH, Conductor, 
 
 No. 4 Watbk St«kbt, Boston, Mass. 
 
VOLUME 2— NUMBER 44.] 
 
 BOSTON, SATURDAY, DECEMBER 11, 1858. 
 
 [PRICE FOUR CENTS. 
 
 STi NICHOLAS CHURCH. 
 
 We present our numerous readers this week 'with 
 a view of the Collegiate Church of St. Nicholas, 
 Galway. We do so believing every thing connected 
 •with this ancient city is, at the present time, when 
 the attention of all seems fixed in that direction, of 
 peculiar importance to Irishmen at home and abroad. 
 
 This ancient church was founded in 1320, and 
 was dedicated to St. Nicholas, of Myra, the tutelar 
 saint of mariners. It is a gothic structure, built in 
 the form of a cross, with a spire rising from the 
 centre, situated on a gentle eminence in the centre 
 of the town on the site of the small chapel, formerly 
 the only place of worship belonging to the (Eng- 
 lish) settlers, for extent and architectural beauty, 
 it is a lasting monument of the piety, the wealtli 
 and the public spirit of its founders. 
 
 Our space does not permit us to enter into details 
 of the history of this church in connection with the 
 
 Wardens of Galway. For the present; we will merely 
 state, that shorly after its foundation, at a council 
 which was held, at which many of the nobility and 
 gentry were present, it was thought proper to annex, 
 among others, the see of Enachdune (to which 
 Galway at that time belonged) to the metropolitan 
 church of Tuam. The union with Tuam being accom- 
 plished, the church of St. Nicholas, one of the fines 
 ecclesiastical structures, was governed by vicars, 
 who were instituted by the archbishop, and who 
 were commonly of Irish extraction. They were 
 entirely different in their manners and habits of 
 life, as well as in principle, from their English 
 parishioners. Under such a state of things, discon- 
 tent grew up, and the affairs being badly circum- 
 stanced, Donatus O'Murray, Archbishop of Tuam, 
 in the year 1484, erected the'church of St. Nicholas 
 into a collegiate one, and exempted it from his 
 jurisdiction, by letters under his seal, and which 
 
 were confirmed by the bull of Pope Innocent VIII., 
 and Donatus also attached to it the parish church 
 of Balenclair. Wm. Joyce, Archbishop of Tuam, ana- 
 tive of Galway, confirmed by his deed all the former 
 grants and privileges of the collegiate church, war- 
 dens and vicars, and soon after united to it the 
 churches of Furanmore, Moycullen, and Skryne. 
 
 In the reign of Edward VI., St. Nicholas was 
 constituted the Royal College of Galway, and was 
 granted by Elizabeth the revenues of the dissolved 
 monasteries of Annadown and Ballintubber. Such 
 has been the practice in Ireland. The appropriation 
 of the church property to the support of an alirn 
 establishment is the monster evil of that unfortunate 
 country. In England it is quite oth^wise, because 
 the masses of the people have embraced the state 
 religion, where it has not produced theheart-burn- 
 inf!s and the massacrees which pecjiUarly belong tt) 
 it in Ireland. 
 
 COLLIiGIATK CHURCH OF S P. NICIIOI AS, (iM.WAV 
 
274 
 
 IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 Bv ciiAni-Ka ewAix. 
 
 NolliiDK that livc!i ciin bloom 
 
 Lout; upon the I'ttrtli ; 
 Uelcor!', that realms illume, 
 
 Die iu their birth! 
 All that the lioul admires— 
 All that the heart desires— 
 ir'roin heart and ^uuI expires: 
 
 lA'aviug but dearth! 
 
 Star«, astbey light the hour*, 
 
 Steal them away '. 
 Suns which unfold the doners 
 
 Bring them to decay '. 
 Even Morn's beams of light 
 Fresh on their heavenly flight. 
 Shine but to speed the Night! 
 
 frothing can stay! 
 
 So, for a little while, 
 
 Time pai^ses on — 
 Flowers that our hopes beguile 
 
 Fade one by one ! 
 All that our love can say 
 Of those who blessed our way, 
 Is— that they passed their day- 
 Lived— and are gone! 
 
 THE GRAND DUKE CONSTANTINE. 
 
 • Very well,' said Count Alexis \Vanikofl', ' your 
 reputation is now established, and you only require 
 an imperial commission to consolidate it. Hold, 
 here is a letter to the Aid-de-Camp of the Grand 
 Duke Constantine, who must already have heard of 
 you. Introduce yourself to him boldly, with your 
 petition for his brother, the Emperor, and ask him 
 to recommend you.' 
 
 'But, Count,' said I, hesitatingly, ' do you sup- 
 pose he will receive me well ?' 
 
 ' That depends on what you consider a good re- 
 ception.' 
 
 • I mean, will he be likely to receive me civilly, 
 graciously ?' 
 
 'Ah ! my dear sir,' said Count Alexis, laughing, 
 • you do us too much honor. You would treat us 
 as civilized people, when, in truth, we are still half 
 barbarians. There is the letter. I have opened the 
 door for you, but 1 cannot promise you nothing — 
 all depends on the good or bad humor of the czaro- 
 wich, and you must take your chance. You have 
 a battle to fight, and a victory to gain. Adieu, may 
 good fortune attend you.' 
 
 I had ueed of this encouragement, at least, for I 
 linew the reputation of the man with whom I had 
 to do, and I must acknowledge, that to attack an 
 Ukraine bear in his den, would have seemed a less 
 formidable undertaking, than to ask a favor of the 
 czarowich, the strange compound of good qualities 
 and uncontrolled passions. 
 
 The Grand Duke Constantine, who was younger 
 than the Emperor Alexander, and older than the 
 Grand Duke Xicholas.possessed neither the winning 
 elegance of the first, nor the calm, cold dignity of 
 the latter. He seemed to inherit his disposition 
 entirely from his father, so completely were the pe- 
 culiar eccentricities of Paul re-produced in him ; 
 •while the two others resembled Catherine, one in 
 the heart, the other in the head, both possessing 
 that imperial grandeur of character, for which their 
 ancesttess was so strikingly distinguished. 
 
 Indeed, from the very birth of her two oldest 
 grand-sons, Catherine seems to have resolved that 
 they should divide the world between them; the 
 Tery names she bestowed, calling one Alexander, 
 and the other Constantine, confirms the idea, and 
 the whole course of theii education, which she her- 
 self directed, was only in furtherance of this gigan- 
 tic project. Thus Constantine, whom she destined 
 for the Eastern Empire, had only Greek nurses and 
 Greek attendants, while Alexander, who was to rule 
 the West, was surrounded by the English. The 
 tutor, common to both brothers, was a Swiss, named 
 Laharpe, cousin to that brave General Laharpe, who 
 ■eived in Italy under Bonaparte. But the lessons 
 
 of this excellent instructor were not received with 
 equal readiness by his two pupils, and the seed, 
 although the same, produced very different fruits, 
 for on one side it fell upon a prepared and generous 
 noil, and on the other, upon that which was by nature 
 wild and sterile. 
 
 "While .\lexander, at twelve years of age, replied 
 to Graft, his professor of experimental pliilosdphy, 
 who lold him that light was a continual emanation 
 of particles from the sun, 'That cannot be, for, in 
 that case, the sun would be constantly growing 
 smaller,' Constantine answered Saken, his private 
 tutor who urged him to learn to read, • I will not 
 learn, for I see that you are always reading, and 
 yet you are a fool." 
 
 Something of the characters of the two children 
 may be inferred from these answers. 
 
 Constautine's dislike for scientific pursuits was, 
 howLVer,equallcd by his tas'C for military exercises. 
 The use of arms, the management of horses, the 
 manccuvering of armies, was, .n his opinion, much 
 more useful knowledge for a prince than any of the 
 arts in which his brother delighted. After the rup- 
 ture between Russia and France, he was sent to 
 Italy, under the order of field-marshal Suwarrow, 
 who had charge of completing his military educa- 
 tion. A master of this description, quite as much 
 celebrated for his eccentricities as his courage, was 
 ill-chooscn to reform the natural singuU-rities of 
 Constantine, which, consequently, instead of disap- 
 pearing, were increased to such a degree that the 
 question was frequently asked if the resemblance of 
 the young grand duke to his father did not extend 
 even to his aberrations of intellect. 
 
 After the treaty of Vienna, Constantine was nom- 
 inated Viceroy of Poland. Placed at the head of a 
 warlike people, his military tastes now redoubled 
 their energy, and for want of those real combats in 
 which he had lately been engaged, parades and re- 
 views, those phantoms of war, were his only amuse- 
 ments. Summer or winter, wherever he might be, 
 at three o'clock in the morning he was up and ar- 
 rayed in his uniform of general, and no valet was 
 ever required to assist at his toilet. Then, seated 
 at a table covered with military orders, in a room, 
 on each pannel of which was painted the costume of 
 some regiment, he examined the reports delivered 
 the evening before by Col. Axamilowski, or the 
 Perfect of Police Lubowidzki, approving or disap- 
 proaving them, but adding to all some remark. 
 
 This labor continued till nine o'clock in the morn- 
 ing, when, after hastily taking a soldier's breakfast, 
 he usually reviewed two regiments of infantry and 
 a squadron of cavalry. The platoo..s filed off at 
 equal distances and with mathematical precision be- 
 fore the czarowich, who examined them, standing 
 dressed in green uniform of a chasseur, and wear- 
 I ing a hat loaded with cock's feathers, which he con- 
 trived to place on his head in such a manner that 
 while one comer touched his left epaulette the other 
 pointed to the sky. His brow was narrow, and, 
 plowed with deep furrows. Indicated continual and 
 anxious thought, while a pair of bushy eyebrows, 
 lowering with a constant frown, almost entirely con- 
 cealed his small blue eyes. This, with his little fiat 
 nose, and long upper lip, gave a strangely savage 
 expression to his head, which, placed on a neck ex- 
 tremely short and naturally bending forward, seemed 
 sunk between his shoulders. 
 
 But when he saw those men whom he had trained, 
 heard their measured steps, and listened to the mili- 
 tary music, a species ol fever seized him, and his 
 face flushed crimson . His stiff'ened arm sclungcon- 
 vulsively to his body, and the motionless fingers 
 were nervously expanded, while his feet, in con- 
 tinual agitation, beat the time, and his deep guttu- 
 ral voice from time to time uttertd hoarse jerking 
 sounds, unlike anything human, which expressed 
 cither satisfaction, if all went on right, or range, if 
 anything happened contrary to his discipline. In 
 
 this last case his punishments were almost always 
 terrible, for the slightest fault procured to the sol- 
 dier a prison, and to the otficer loss of rank. This 
 severity was not,indeed,confined to men, it extend- 
 ed even to animals. He once caused a monkey, 
 who had too much noise, to be hung in his cage; a 
 horse who stumbled with him received a thousand 
 lashes, and a favorite dog, who waked him iu the 
 night by howling, was shot by his orders. 
 
 As for his good humor, it was not less savage than 
 his anger. He expressed it by shouts of laughter, 
 joyously rubbing liis hands, and beating the earth 
 with his feet. In this mood, he would catch up the 
 first child he met, turn it over and over in every 
 way, kiss it, pinch its nose and cheeks, and end by 
 sending it away with a piece of gold in its hand. 
 There were, however, other periods marked neither 
 by joy or anger — hours of complete prostration and 
 melancholy — when, weak as a child, he sighed, and 
 laid trembling on the divan or floor. No one theiv 
 dared to approach him, but on such occasions they 
 opened the doors and windows of his appartraent, 
 and a fair, pale lady, tall and slender, usually 
 drest in a white robe with a blue girdle, passed in 
 like an apparition. Her presence seemed to exer- 
 cise a magic influence on the czarowich. At sight 
 of her, his nervous sensibility revived, his sighs 
 changed to sobs, and tears flowed abundantly. The 
 crisis was then passed, the lady seated herself by 
 him, he laid his head in her lap, fell asleep, and 
 awoke cured. This lady was Jeannette Grudzenska, 
 the guardian angel of Poland. 
 
 When a child, as she was once praying in the 
 metropolitan church before a picture of the virgin, 
 a crown of flowers which ornamented it fell upon 
 her head, and an old Cossack of the Ukraine, who 
 passed for a prophet, being consulted by her father 
 upon this event, declared that the sacred crown 
 which had fallen on her from above was a presage 
 of one that was destined for her on earlh. The 
 father and daughter, however, had forgotten this 
 prediction, or rather they only thought of it as a 
 dream, when apparent change brought Jeannette 
 and Constantine together. 
 
 Then this half savage man, of ardent and absolute 
 passions, became timid as a child; he, whom hitherto 
 nothing had resisted, who, with a word had been 
 accustomed to dispose of life or iortune, became an 
 humble petitioner to an obscure old man for the 
 hand of his daughter, supplicating him not to re- 
 fuse a gift, without which there would be no hap- 
 piness for him on earth. The old Muscovite then 
 remembered the Cossack's prediction, and saw in 
 Constautine's demand an accomplishment of the 
 decrees of Providence. The grand duke, therefore, 
 received his consent, and also his daughter's; noth- 
 ing remained but to gain that of the Emperor, 
 which he at length purchased by renouncing his 
 claim to the throne, 
 
 Y'es, this strange, this inexplicable man, who, like 
 the Olympian Jove, had made a nation tremble at 
 his own frown, gave up for the heart of a young 
 girl, his double crown of the east and west — that 
 is to Bay, a kingdom which covers a seventh part of 
 the world, with its fifty-three millions of inhabi- 
 tants, and the sLx seas which bathe its shores. 
 
 In exchange, Jeannette Grudzenska received from 
 the Emperor -Alexander the title of Princess [of 
 Lovicz. 
 
 Such was the man to whom I was now to intro- 
 duce myself. He had just arrived in St. Petersburg, 
 as report said, to confer with the Emperor on an 
 important conspiracy, of which he had gained some 
 intelligence at Warsaw, though the clue to farther 
 discoveries was now lost through the obstinate 
 silence of two conspirators whom he had arrested. 
 This circumstance, as may be supposed, was rather 
 unluvorable for one who had so fiivolous a request 
 as mine to make. Yet I resolved to run the risk of 
 a reception which could not, under any circumstan- 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 275 
 
 ces, fail of being singular. The next morning, 
 therefore, I entered a droschki, and departed for 
 Strclna, armed with the Count's letter to General 
 Kodny,Aid-de-Camp of theczarowich, and my peti- 
 tio- to the Emperor Alexander. 
 
 After a two hours' ride over a magnificent road, 
 bordered on the left by a succession of country 
 houses, and on the right by fields of unequalled 
 Terdure, which extended to the Gulf of Finland, we 
 reached the convent at St. Serge, the saint most 
 venerated in Russia after St. Alexander Nieuski, 
 and ten minutes afterwards found ourselves in the 
 village. After proceeding about half way down the 
 principal street, we turned to the right, and in a 
 few moments stopped before the castle. The sentinel 
 would have prevented me from entering, but on 
 seeing my letter to Gen. Rodny, I was permitted to 
 pass. 
 
 I mounted the steps,and reached an ante-chamber, 
 where I learned that General Kodny was occupied 
 with the czarowich, and was conducted to an apart- 
 ment which commanded the view of magnificent 
 gardens, intersected by a canal running directly to 
 the sea, where 1 waited, while an officer carried him 
 my letter. In a few minutes, the same officer re- 
 turned, and desired me to follow him. 
 
 The cz.'rowich was standing near the fire, for, 
 although it was scarcely the end of September, the 
 air began to be chilly. He had just finished dictat- 
 ing a despatch to General Rodny, who was seated. 
 Not being aware that I was so soon to be intro- 
 duced, I stopped in some embarrassment on the 
 threshhold, surprised to find myself so quickly in 
 his presence. But the door was scarcely closed, 
 when projecting his head, without any other move- 
 ment of the body, he fixed his little piercing eyes 
 on me. 
 
 ' Your country ?' said he. 
 * France, your highness.' 
 ' Your age ?' 
 ' Twenty-six years.' 
 ' Your name ?' 
 
 'G ' 
 
 ' And you wish for an imperial commission to 
 to teach the use of arms in one of my brother's re- 
 giments ? 
 
 ' That is the object of my ambition.' 
 ' You say you are first rate r' 
 'I ask pardon of your imperial highness, that is 
 not for me to say.' 
 
 'No, but you think it ?' 
 
 ' Your imperial highness knows that pride is the 
 besetting sin of the human race; besides, I have 
 given an exhibition of my skill, and your highness 
 may inquire the result.' 
 
 ' 1 know all about it, but you were only opposed 
 to second-rate amateurs.' 
 
 ' And therefore I spared them.' 
 ' Ah, you spared them, did you ? and if you had 
 not spared them, what would have happened ?' 
 
 ' I should have hit them ten times to their 
 twice.' 
 
 ' Oh, oh ! thus myself for example, could you hit 
 me ten times to my twice ?' 
 
 ' That would depend on circumstances,' 
 ' Ah ! what circumstances ?' 
 
 ' It would be according as your imperial highness 
 desires to be treated. If you exact the deference 
 due a prince, you will undoubtedly hit ten times to 
 my twice, but if you permit me to use you like the 
 rest of the world, it is probable that I shall hit ten 
 times to your twice.' 
 
 'Lubenski,' cried the czarowich, rubbing his 
 hands, ' Lubenski, bring my foils. Oh ho ! boaster, 
 we shall see.' 
 
 ' What will your highness permit ?' 
 ' My highness does not permit, my highness or- 
 ders you to hit me ten times if you can. Come, are 
 you going to draw back ?' 
 
 'I certainly will do my utmost toobey your high- 
 ness's commands.' 
 
 ' Very well, take these foils and this mask, and 
 let me see a little of your work.' 
 
 ' It ia in obedience to your highness.' 
 
 ' Yes, yes, an hundred, tliousand, million times I 
 say yes ; but remember, I must have my ten blows, 
 do you hear,' cried the czarowich, commencing the 
 attack, ' not one less. I will not excuse you a sin- 
 gle one; ha! ha!' 
 
 Notwithstanding this gracious invitation I con- 
 tented myself with parying without even indulging 
 in a thrust. 
 
 'AVell!' cried he, warming up, 'I suspect you 
 are sparing at me. Come on man, come on. 
 Ha! ha!' 
 
 And I saw the blood rush to his face beneath his 
 mask, and his eyes sparkled like fire. 
 
 ' Now, then, the ten blows, where are they ?' 
 
 ' Your highness, my respect ' 
 
 ' Go to the devil with your respect ! hit me ! hit 
 me!' he shouted. 
 
 Taking instant advantage of his permis sion, I hit 
 him three times in succession. 
 
 ' That's well. AVell,' cried he, ' now for my turn. 
 Ha ! a hit ! a hit !' 
 
 This was true. 
 
 ' I perceive that your highness is not inclined to 
 spare me, and that I must do my best.' 
 
 ' Do your best, then, do it. Ha ! ha !' 
 
 Again I hit him four times, and in return received 
 one from him. 
 
 ' A hit, a hit,' he cried, stamping with joy. 
 'Remember, Rodny, I have hit him twice to his 
 seven.' 
 
 •Twice to my ten, your highness,' cried I, press- 
 ing on him in my turn. ' Eight, nine, ten. We are 
 
 quit.' 
 
 ' Well, well, cried the czarowich, ' very well ; 
 but of what use would all this be to my soldiers ? 
 It is the sabre they want — are you expert in the use 
 of the sabre ?' 
 
 ' I think so, your highness.' 
 
 ' Could you, with your sabre, defend yourself on 
 foot against a man on horseback, armed with a 
 lance ?' 
 
 ' I believe I could, your highness.' 
 ' Y'ou believe, but you are not sure. Oh ho ! you 
 are not sure ?' 
 
 ' Yes, indeed, your highness, I am sure.' 
 ' Ah ! you are sure that you could defend your- 
 self?' 
 
 ' Yes, your highness.' 
 ' You could parry a lance J' 
 ' I could parry it.' 
 ' Against a man on horseback ?' 
 'Against a man on horseback.' 
 ' Lubenski ! Lubenski !' cried the czarowich, 
 acain, 'get me a horse, get me a lance ; a lance, a 
 horse, do you hear ; quick ! quick !' 
 
 ' But, my lord ' 
 
 ' Ah, you seek to draw back ; ha ha.' 
 ' I do not seek to draw back, my lord, and with 
 any other person for an opponent, this trial would 
 bo highly agreeable to me.' 
 
 ' Very well ! and against me why is it not so ?' 
 ' Opposed to your highness,I equally fear failure 
 or success; for, if successful, 1 fear that you may 
 
 forget that I acted by your orders ' 
 
 ' I never forget ; besides, here is Rodny, before 
 whom.I have given you the order, and before whom 
 I once more command you to treat me as you would 
 him.' 
 
 ' I must observe to your highness that you have 
 not yet put me quite at my ease, for I should treat 
 his excellency very respectfully also.' 
 
 ' Flatterer ! you think to make a friend, but no 
 one influences me ; I judge for myself. You have 
 succeeded once, I shall see if you are as successful 
 a second time.' 
 
 At this moment an officer appeared before the 
 windows, leading a horse and holding a lance. 
 ' Come,' continued Conatantine, rushing out, and 
 
 making me a sign to follow him, 'and you, Lubenski, 
 give him a sabre, a good sabre, a sabre that suits his 
 hand, a sabre of the horse-guards. Ah, ha ! we 
 shall see. Now take care of yourself.' 
 
 At these words he sprung upon his horse, a wild 
 courser of the steppes, whose mane and tail swept 
 the ground, and performed several difficult evolu- 
 tions with remarkable skill, all the while playing 
 with his lance. In the mean time three or four 
 sabres were brought for me to choose from ; my 
 choice was soon made ; I e.xtended my hand, and 
 took the first that offered. 
 
 ' There ! there ! are you ready ?' cried the czaro - 
 wich. 
 
 ' Yes, your highness.' 
 
 He immediately put his horse on the gallop to 
 reach the other end of the alley. 
 
 ' But surely this is a joke,' said I, to General 
 Rodny. 
 
 ' I assure you that nothing is more serious,' he 
 replied ; defend yourself as you would in a real 
 combat, for your Ufe is in danger ; that is all I can 
 tell you.' 
 
 The matter was beconiing more important than I 
 had anticipated. If it had been only to defend my- 
 self, and return blow for blow, I would wilUngly 
 have taken my chance. But this was another aflair ; 
 with my heavy sabre, and his long slender lance, 
 the joke might become very serious ; but I was in 
 for it, and there was no retreat ; therefore, calling 
 up my coolness and address, I faced the czaro- 
 wich. 
 
 He had already reached the end of the alley, and 
 turned his horse. Notwithstanding what Rodny 
 had told me, I still hoped to find it a joke, when 
 shouting for the last time, ' Are you ready ■' I saw 
 him put his lance in rest, and the horse to his ut- 
 most speed. I was not fully convinced, till that 
 moment, that I had my life to defend. 
 
 The horse plunged madly on, and the czarowich 
 laid himself on his neck in such a manner that he 
 was hidden by the waving mane which floated in 
 the wind ; I saw nothing of him but the top of his 
 head between the animal's ears. On reaching me, 
 he endeavored to strike a blow with his lance full 
 in my breast, but I avoided it by bounding aside, 
 and the horse and rider pressed onward by their own 
 impetus, passed without harming me. AVhen he saw- 
 that he had missed his mark, the czarowich stopped 
 his horse short, with marvellous address. 
 
 ' Very well, very well !' said he, ' we will try it 
 again. 
 
 And without giving me time to make any obser- 
 vation, he wheeled his horse round on his hind legs, 
 regained his starting place, and after inquiring if I 
 was ready, burst on me with more fury than before ; 
 but,as formerly, I had my eyes fixed on his.and an- 
 ticipated all his movements ; therefore, seizing the 
 favorable moment I parried his thrust and sprang to 
 the ridht, so that the horse and rider passed me 
 again as inefi'ectually as before. 
 
 The czarowich uttered a kind of low roar ; this 
 tourney had excited him like a real combat, and 
 he was determined that it should end to his honor; 
 therefore, at the moment when I supposed all was 
 over, I saw him preparing for a third course. But 
 thinking that we had enough of it, I resolved that 
 this should be the last. 
 
 Consequently, when he once more approached 
 me, instead of contenting myself with warding off 
 his simple attack, I struck a violent blow on the 
 shaft of his lance, which cut it in two, and left him 
 disarmed ; then, sciy.ing his horse by the bridle, I 
 stopped him so violently as to force him back on his 
 haunches, at the same instant pointing my sabre at 
 the breast of the czarowich. General Rodny uttered 
 an exclamation of terror. He thought that I was 
 going to kill his highness, and Constantino had un- 
 doubtedly the same idea, for I saw him turn pale. 
 But instantly stepping back, and bowing to the 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 grand duke, ' Your highness sees," said I, what 1 1 
 can tcaili your soldiers, if you think roe worthy of 
 beinK ihiir instructor.' 
 
 • Yes, the devil take you ! yes, you are worthy, ' 
 and you shall have a regiment or 1 will lose my j 
 name.' 
 
 ' Lubonski, Lubentki ! ' he continued, leaping 
 from his horse, ' see that Pulk is returned to his 
 stiibln, and you come and kt me recommend your 
 jietifiim." i 
 
 I followed the grand duke to a saloon, where he > 
 
 took B pen and wrote at the bottom of my application, i 
 
 •I humbly rocmiimind the above-signed to your 
 
 imperiiil majesty, believing him entirely worthy of 
 
 the favur he soliijits.' i 
 
 ' And HOW,' said he, ' take this paper, and put it 
 
 into the emperor's hand yourself. You will run the ' 
 
 risk of imprisonment if you are caught sjjeaking to 
 
 him about it ; but faith ! those who risk nothing 
 
 have nothing. Adieu ! if ever you visit AVarsaw, 
 
 come and see me.' , 
 
 I bowed joyfully at this happy termination of my ' 
 
 adventure, and regaining my drosehki, took the 
 road to St. Petersburg, carrying with me the all 
 powerful recommendation. 
 
 In the evening I wmt to thank fjount Alexis for 
 his advice, though it had so nearly cost nie ilear,and 
 the next day, at about ten o'clock in the morning, I 
 departed for the puluce of Tzarko-Selo, where the 
 emperor then resided, resolved to stroll in the gar- 
 dens till I met him, and then risk the punishment 
 to which any one is liable who presents a pet.tioa 
 to him in person. 
 
 COURTSTOWN CASTLE. 
 
 The ruins of Courlstown Castle present to the notice 
 of the tourist the remains of ouc of the most splendid 
 ancient baronial residences that ever existed Ire- 
 land. These niins are situated within a few miles of 
 Kilkenny, to whose noble castle alone they are said to 
 have once yielded in magnificence. Imposing as these 
 proud casullated residences were in their structure, 
 and rich in historical recollcctioDS, we may congratulaie 
 ourselves that wc have been reserved for more peaceful 
 times, in which, in security, we may survey them in 
 their ruins. No bands of fierce spoliators now issue 
 from their walls, and their dungeons have been long 
 unienanted. Nor were the victims of such a power 
 alone cntiiled to our pity ; tlie oppressors themselves 
 roust have lived in ihat slate of barbarous disunion and 
 feveiish anxiely which tends inevitably to destroy the 
 chariiies, and conscf|uently the best enjoyments, of our 
 nature. Yet human life has ever exhiliited a balanced 
 system, and man in the most uncivilized state has the 
 rude virtues, peculiar to his siiuaiion, which are un- 
 known to a higher degi-ee of cultivation. These strong- 
 holds of power, though almost invariably the seat of 
 violence and oppression, yet were usually ihe abode of 
 the most unbounded hospituliiy ; the destlinie wan- 
 derer or the benighted wayfarer never roused the warder 
 from his slumbers, but the portal was thrown open for 
 hii reception, with a welcome as luvislj as it was habi- 
 tuaL 
 
 Raymond le Gros, the founder of the powerful fam- 
 ily of Grace, ihe lords for centuries of this ensile, and 
 a vast territory surnmi.ding it, whoso rcpresentaiive, 
 even in the reign of Eliz ibeth, was designated as ' An 
 
 COUKTSTOWN CASTLE, CO. KILKENNY. 
 
 Raymond Fitzwilliam de Windsor, and we learn from | It will be rememboted that on the death of Dennod 
 Giraldus Cambrensis that he was di-nominated le Gros I Mac Murrogh, Kingof Leinstcr, in 1171, his extensive 
 as personal characteristic. Of this common mode of territory became the property of Earl Strongbow, 
 discriminating individuals of the highest rank, in the really liy force of arms, nominally by virtue of his 
 western nations o(|Europe, during the middle ages, and ; marriage with Eva, that prince's only legitimate child, 
 continued in England even long after the Norman The lands of England were not more liberally dis- 
 conquest, the application of Strongbow, borne by the i tribnted on the Norman conquest than were those of 
 well-known Richard de Clare, Earl of Pembroke, ( Ireland on the success of the An^lo-Norman enterprise. 
 Chepstow, or Strigul, furnishes an example; and | What the Duke of Normandy was in 1P66, snch was 
 while the other noble patronymics of his family are i the Earl of Pembroke in 1170, and his followers as 
 forgotten, the assumed name of Strongbow is to this i largely participated in the success of his adventure as 
 day universally and familiarly repented. So also the ' did those who attended the Duke of Normandy into 
 son of Raymond le Gros was called William Fitz England. The possession of extensive districts re- 
 I Raymond le Gros, or le Gras, or Grassas, which ; warded these military chieftains, and from such 
 names, their meaning being similar, are used indis- i splendid acquisitions the services of their own subordi- 
 criminately by our historians and antiquaries, by Cam- [ nate adherents were also largely recompensed. Among 
 brensis, Ilanmer, Stanihursi, and others, and Grace 1 these princely grants was that of Grace's country to 
 has now become the family name of his descendants. I Raymond le Gros. This consisted ofa vast tract of 
 History s caicely presents a more striking instance \ land, comprehending, it is said, the barony of Cranagh, 
 of that first and powerful proof of greatness, which lies and extending northwards by the liberties of Kil- 
 ia an ascemlancy over other men's minds, than was kenny and the river Norc, to the borders of the 
 exhibited by R:vym md le Gros. The soldiers ! Queen's County ; and thence southwards along the 
 without him. were nothing, with him were every thing, borders of Tipperary and the Munster river to the 
 and Earl Strongbow, says Hollinsheil. Wivs constrained i liberties of Cullan, forming a district between eleven 
 to become joint viceroy with himself. Giraldus Cam- and twelve miles in length, and between five and six 
 brensis calls him the 'notable and ehiefest pillar of ' in breadth. The central situation of Tullaroan, in the 
 Ireland.' With heroism so elevated, magnanimity so ' district of Grace county, naturally occasioned the se- 
 unsullicd, wisdom so profound, and exploits so nnriv- lection of that place for the chief castle of the territorial 
 ailed as their nnvariiish'-d talc unfolds, Raymond le ' lords, some of whom we find styled Baron of Tulla- 
 Gras wanted only a Homer or a Tasso to have been | roan, as well as Baron Grace and Baron of Courls- 
 an Achilles or a Rinaldo. In fact, though Strongbow town. 
 
 was the head, Raymond was the very soul of the Raymond le Gros first landed in Ireland the 12th of 
 Anglo-Norman en;^rprise in Ireland. Upon his se- | of May 1170, hut he returned to Wales in 1 173 to take 
 
 Grassagh more Bally nacour.y' (the great Grace of | cession in anger, when Strongbow deferred consenting I possession of Ihe lands that devolved to him on his 
 
 father's dcalli ; whence he shortly after hastened back 
 to Ireland, with 30 leaders of his own kindred, 100 
 horsemen, and 300 archers, to the assistance of Strong- 
 bow, whose si!,ier he at this time married at Wexford, 
 
 Courtstown), is well known in Irish history as the ' to his marriage with his si»tcr, Basilia de Clare, the 
 bulwark of early English power, as the broiher-in-law | war ehher stood still, or, what was worse, went back, 
 of Earl Strongbow, and as the first victory of this The repentance of Strongbow was immediate, and his 
 kingdom. The name of this chief was more properly ! concession complete. 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 277 
 
 nmt obtained a prcat portion of Innd wiili her in dowry, 
 OS wt'll Hs thudi^tinguiohed civil iiud niiiitiiry oHices 
 ol constiible uiui staudnrd-liciirer of liiinsiur. On the 
 demise of Kiirl Strou;;hoflr, ii (U'nr_\ H. ( U 70), ho was 
 Appointed sole yoToriior of Indand. When Busilia 
 vroie to inform hir hit!>btind thiil her broihcf was 
 duad, she, fearii g lest her letter mi^jht bj intercepted, 
 used tliis expies.-ion, ' the gwiu tooih whieh has been 
 BO long ailing' has at length fallen o.it I' 
 
 Wo have been unable to ascertain on what authority 
 1184 is stated as iha period as this distinguished 
 chieftan's death, but an entry in tlie arehives of the 
 Abbey of St. Thomas, in Dublin, distinctly proves it 
 to have been previous to 1201. His eldest son, Wil- 
 liam Fitz Raymond, as we have before mentioned, rc- 
 tainultlie patronymic of le Gros, the usual niaik of 
 primogeniture at this period, and succeeded to all the 
 lands Raymond had inherited in Wales and England, 
 as well as to those he had acquired in Leinster. 
 
 The Knglish conquerors necessarily maintained their 
 dominion by the iron hand of coercion, and the protec- 
 tion of their domains, and the subjugation of the 
 natives, equally obliged them to erect strongly forti- 
 fied castles. The situation of Grace's country, con- 
 tinually exposed to the attacks of its restless neighbors, 
 the Fiizpatricks, the O'Mores and the MacMurroughs, 
 justified, on the principle of self-defence, the many 
 frontier castles of its military chieftains, though indeed 
 this legitimate object was often abandoned for motives 
 of predatory warfare and feudal ai;gression. Though 
 we are unable to fix a precise date to the building of 
 this castle of Tullaroan, or Courstown, we may be al- 
 lowed to conjecture that it was nearly coeval with 
 Grace's castle, in Killkenny, erected by William le 
 Gras, before the Uth of John (1210) ; it is, however, 
 obvious, from the architecture, that different parts of 
 the building have been the work of dilferent periods. 
 A tradition prevails, that the castles of Tullaroan and 
 Courtstown were distinct structures, and that the for- 
 mer, having been destroyed in a hostile irruption of the 
 Irish, the latter was erected on a dilferent site. The 
 ruins of this edifice eirinced considerable grandeur as 
 well as groat strength. They exhibited the spirit of a 
 powerful chieftain, and the taste of a feudal age. 
 
 Courstown Castle consisted of an outward ballium or 
 envelope, having a round tower at each angel, and also 
 at each side of an embattled entrance to the south, 
 which was further defended by a portcullis. Within 
 this area, or outward court, comprehending about an 
 acre of ground, stood the body of the castle, enclosing 
 an inner court of an oblong form. A massive quad- 
 rangular tower, or keep, projected from the centre of 
 the south front, directly opposite to the embattled 
 entrance of the exterior area above-mentioned. The 
 walls of this tower were of considerable thickness, and 
 the rests and fire-places within showed it to have origi- 
 nally admitted five floors. From the sides of this great 
 square tower two wings extended, which terminated on 
 the east and west with round jtowers. The east front, 
 consequently, exhibited on its southern angel one of 
 these round towers, and further northwards stood a 
 similar tower, flanking a portal which led into the 
 inner court, formerly furnished with a portcullis. Be- 
 tween this and the last flanking ruund tower and a 
 square tower at the northern angel, was a spacious 
 room or hall, of an oblong shape, occupying the entire 
 space. The north front consisted of a high embattled 
 wall, connecting two square towers, and enclosing the 
 inner area on that side. The western front externally 
 corresponded with the eastern. There is said to have 
 been a communication round the buildings of the inner 
 court, by a gallery, and in the centre of it the traces of 
 a draw well are still visible, as are also the vestiges, 
 beyond the outside walls, of the bowling-green, cock- 
 pit, fish-ponds, &c. Some mouuds of earth to the 
 south of the castle, called bow-butts, are likewise visible, 
 and are reported by tradition to have been the place 
 where the followers were exercised in the practice of 
 archery. 
 
 Though deprived of the ' pride, pomp, and circum- 
 stance of glorious war,' Courtstown Castle long con- 
 tinued to possess great dignity of appearance, from the 
 
 cxtcntof its area, the height and massive thickness of 
 its walls, the picturesque and skilful dispcsition of its 
 towers, the embattled gateway, and works of circum- 
 vallaiion by which it was defended. Such were the 
 characteristic features of this baronial edifice about the 
 year 1760, and a''ter abundantly supplying, for above 
 cenuiury, materials for all the neighboring structures, 
 and for repairing the roads, &c., its foundations are now 
 beginning to bo rooted up, and 
 
 'Broke by the share of every rustic plough ; 
 Soperisli monuments of mortal birtli, 
 So periah all in turn, save well-recoided worth.' 
 
 The fate of the Grace family has been but little less 
 unfortunate than that of their ancient fortress, but we 
 must reserve ",hcir history to a future number. 
 
 ORIGIN OF ADDRESSES—THEIR VALUE. 
 
 During the perusal of some curious old papers in 
 the British Museum, my attention was attracted by an 
 account of ' The History and Origin of Addresses,' 
 from which I have made the following extracts, think- 
 ing that they might prove of interest your numerous 
 readers. The work from which 1 have taken the fol- 
 lowing, bears the date of 1768 : — 
 
 ' Addresses from cities, universities, towns, and 
 bodies corporate, societies civil and religious, &c., 
 were for the first time introduced upon Richard Crom- 
 well's sncceding his father (Oliver) in the Protectorship, 
 in 1658, when he received them from all parties in the 
 kingdom, who promised to stand by him with their 
 lives and fortunes; most of whom, at the same time, 
 were known to have been plotting his destruction. 
 Richard Cromwell was not so weak a man as some 
 historians have presented him, or as the world gener- 
 ally imagines him to have been, for, after his seven 
 months, of mock government, as he was giving orders 
 for the removal of his own furnitiire from Whitehall, 
 he observed with what little ceremony they treated an 
 old trunk, and begged of them to take a little more 
 care of it, ' because' fsaid Richard) 'it contains the 
 lives and fortunes of all the good people of England,' 
 thereby testifying a noble and generous indignation, 
 and plainly indicating his opinion of addresses.' 
 
 I find it also stated ' that no Prince was more ad- 
 dressed by his people than Charles the Second, of 
 merry memory, who, at the same time, suffered him to 
 starve, and scarcely allowed him the neccessary supplies 
 for the expenses of government, which forced him, 
 contrary to his inclination, to become a pensioner to 
 France.' 
 
 There is an old story relative to this, which is, I be- 
 lieve, attributed to Killigrew, of most facetious memo- 
 ry. It is represented that this humorous wit private- 
 ly gave orders to his Majesty's tailor to make one of 
 his royal master's coat pockets of a most enormous 
 size, and the other scarcely larger than the thimble on 
 his finger. The merry monarch being informed that 
 it was done at the desire of master Killigrew, asked 
 the reason. ' May it please your Majesty,' said the 
 arch wag, ' the large pocket is to receive the addresses 
 of your subjects, and the other to put the money in 
 which they intend to present you with.' 
 
 I also find that King James the Second found the 
 some sincerity ; for in his declaration for liberty of 
 conscience, all the Dissenters in the kingdom ran mad 
 with addressing, and devoted their lives, &c., to his 
 Majesty's service, some of whom carried their profes- 
 sions of loyalty to such an extravagant degree that 
 they said ' they wished their breasts were made of 
 glass, that his most gracious Majesty might see the 
 sinceriiy of their hearts,' though it is well known that 
 no set of men were more active and persevering in 
 dethroning him afterwards. Now, as the intent of that 
 prince, by the above declaration, was only to introduce 
 Catholicity, he and his posterity stand for ever Justly 
 excluded by the solemn laws of the land. 
 
 William the Third (or ' Orange Billy '), our groat 
 deliverer from ' Pope and Popery,' did not meet with 
 that gratitude he might reasonably have expected, nor 
 that satisfaction in sovereignty which men, dazzled by 
 ambition, hope to find in the possession of it, for ^his 
 crown proved a crown of thor.is to him. King Wil- 
 
 liam's subjects, it appears, addressed him as they did 
 his predecessors ; but, entertaining a jealousy of being 
 too much involved in continental connections, which 
 they Imagined were entered into more for the sake of 
 Holland than England, they seldom granted him sup- 
 plies to C'lrry on the war against France till the cam- 
 paign was far advanced, and the enemy had got the 
 start of him, and taken the field, which was a principal 
 reason why that prince, glorious even after a defeat, 
 was generally worsted by the French. 
 
 In this slight sketch of the history of addresses, I 
 must not omit to state that of the latter part of the 
 reign of Queen Anne, a set of men addressed her Ma- 
 jesty with the strongest and warmest assurances of 
 securing the Protestant Succession, who, at the same 
 time, were using their utmost endeavors, after her 
 demise, to bring in the Pretender. 
 
 One of the most remarkable and curious addresses 
 over presented to royalty'V'as to his Majesty, King 
 George the First. It was from the town of Totness, 
 in Devonshire. The inhabitants of that town are 
 stated to have made themselves memorable for an ad- 
 dress to that monarch, after the late Emperor Charles 
 the Sixth and the King of Spain had united themselves 
 by the treaty of Vienna, which alliance seemed to prom- 
 ise no good to England, wherein the good people 
 of this borough assured his Majesty ' that they were 
 not only ready to grant him four shillings in the pound 
 land tax, but, if his services required it, to give him the 
 other sixteen shillings likewise.' It is, however, droll 
 enough, and heightens the ridicule of the thing, when I 
 inform readers that this over and above loyal and 
 most libeial borough had not then one foot of land be 
 longing to their corporation ! 
 
 I will conclude my notice of the origin of addresses 
 with the following, which will, I think, give my read- 
 ers a tolerably correct estimate of the general value 
 of such things. In one of the most critical conjunc- 
 tures in the reign of his Majesty, George II., which was 
 during the rebellion, a junto of men made the same 
 professions of loyalty and attachment as his really and 
 truly loyal subjects did; but whim his Mnjesty had in- 
 troduced a very capable and most accomplished noble- 
 man into his ministry, they went and declared their 
 fixed and determined resolution to resign theirplacesin 
 case he was any longer continued, notwithstanding his 
 Majesty was then in the greatest distress, and the 
 rebels were in the heart of the kingdom. 
 
 Japanese Jugglers. — A letter from Simonda 
 gives the following account of the feats of a juggler 
 — the Anderson of Japan — performed before Mr. 
 Townsend Harris, the American Consul General : — 
 
 No 1. He took an ordinary boy's top, .spun it in 
 the air, caught it on his hand, and then placed it 
 (still spinning) upon the edge of a sword near the 
 hilt. Then he dropped the sword point a little, and 
 the top moved slowly toward it. Arrived at the 
 very end, the hilt was lowered in turn, and the top 
 brought back. As usual, the sword was danger- 
 ously sharp. 
 
 No. 2 was also performed with the top. He spun 
 it in the air, and then threw the end of the string 
 back towarti it with such accuracy that it was caught 
 up and wound itself all ready for a second cast. 
 By the time it had done this, it had reached his 
 hand, and was ready for another spin. 
 
 No. 3 was still performed with the lop. There 
 was an upright pole, upon the top of whieh was 
 perched a little house, with a very large front 
 door. The top was spun, made to climb the pole, 
 knocking open the said front door, and disappear. 
 As well as I remember, the hand end of the string 
 was fastened near the door, so that this was almo^t 
 a repetition of the self-winding feat. 
 
 liutfeatNo. i was something even morcastonish- 
 ing than all this. He took two paper butterflies, 
 armed himself with the usual paper fan, threw 
 them into the air, and, fanning gently, kept them 
 flying about him as if they had been alive. 
 
 ' He can make them alight wherever you wish ! 
 try him !' remarked the Kami (prince) through the 
 interpreter. 
 
 Mr. H requested that one might alight upon 
 
 each ear of the juggler. No .sooner expressed than, 
 complied with. Gentle undulations of the fan 
 waved them slowly to the required points, and there 
 left them comfortably seated. Xow, whether this 
 command over pieces of paper was obtained simply 
 by currents of air, or by the power of a coecealed 
 
 magnet, Mr. II could not tell or ascertain. One 
 
 thii!g, however, was certain — the power was there.' 
 
278 
 
 IRISH MISCELLAI^Y. 
 
 THE NICHT BEFORE THE WEDDING. 
 
 ' This mnst bo the lust of your wedding gifts, 
 Vaiiiiiktt,' .Miid Sladftm Urentnno, hiindin^ a small 
 packagu to licr daughttr. ' As you arc to bo married 
 to-morrow, and it is now quite lato in the evening, I 
 ibink ihtrc will he no more.' 
 
 ' Motlitr!" said the joung the girl, in a frightened' 
 tone, holding up a small necklace, the contents of ihe 
 package, ' see, it is black I It is ominous. Oli, what 
 grief can be in store for Ilcnry and mo !' 
 
 ' None, none, Vnninka ! — this is more folly,' said 
 her mother, iu a tone of rebuke. 
 
 But it was some minutes before the young maiden 
 recovered her calmness. Then, conquering her weak- 
 ness by a violent elJort, she said, lightly : — 
 
 ' Am 1 not silly, mother 1 You will laugh when 1 
 tell you that my blood tran cold, and my flesh seemed 
 to creep, as I touched this bauble, as it had becu a 
 serpent. Sec, I do not mind it now !' 
 
 Yaninica Breiano was the only child of wealthy 
 Fmssion commouers. She had been long betrothed 
 to Henry Werder, a young officer in the Prussian array, 
 but, owing to the wars in Europe, their wedding had 
 been long delayed. Now, however, there was peace, 
 and the lovers were to he united the day after the one 
 toward the end of which my story commences. Van- 
 inka was devotedly attached to her betrothed, and too 
 happy at the near approach of their nuptials to allow 
 the black necklace to disquiet her long. Her parents 
 left the room, and, throwing herself into a chair, she 
 leaned her head against its back, and sank into a 
 reverie, her tiugcrs mechanically playfully the while 
 with her last gift. It was easy to sec that her reflec- 
 tions were of a pleasant nature, for, ever and anon, a 
 beantiful smile stole over her features, and fading 
 gradually away, still lett the same expression of quiet 
 happiness. Slio had been sitting there some time, 
 when another person entered the room. The intruder 
 was a young handsome man, dressed in full Prussian 
 uniform. His face was pale, and wore an agitated 
 look, strongly contrasting with the peaceful smile on 
 Vaninka's lips. She did not hear him enter, and he 
 stood for a moment looking, with his eyes beaming 
 with tenderness, upon her ; then, with the air of a man 
 who has a distressing duty to perform, he advanced 
 and stood before her. 
 
 ' Henry I' she exclaimed, starting to her feet. 'I 
 did not expect you this evening. Has anything hap- 
 pened V 
 
 ' Much, much, Vaninka. Sit down again, and I 
 will take this stool at your feei. My own beloved, I 
 came to tell you that our wedding must be postponed." 
 ' Our wedding V cried the astonished girl. 
 ' Even so ! You are astonished, perhaps hurt ; have 
 I told you too abruptly ? Look in my face, Vaninka, 
 and see what I suffered before I would grieve you with 
 my bad news.' 
 
 ' But, Henry. I do not understand. Why must we 
 w.iit still longer V 
 
 ' Because I must leave you in twenty minutes.' 
 ' Leave me ?' 
 
 ' Yes ! Napoleon has left Elba, and is even now 
 in Paris. Our troops leave the city in half an hour.' 
 ' Henry ! am I awake ? No, no, Henry you are not 
 in earnest. Ah !' she said, shuddering, as she caught 
 sight of the necklace, ' I said it was ominous ! I — I — 
 Henry, you cannot Iravo me. To-night, too ! the very 
 night before our wedding !' 
 
 ' Vaninka, do not tremble and sob so ! Vaninka !' 
 he cried straining her to his breast, ' I must go ; see, 
 the clock points to the time I set to leave you, Vanin- 
 ka! She has fainted. Better so!' And, kiss- 
 ing her pale face again and again, he laid her on the 
 sofa, and went in search of her parents. A few words 
 told them all, and, bearing their fervent blessing, he 
 departed. 
 
 Weeks passed, and Vaninka heard nothing from her 
 lover. She grew pale and thin ; her movements were 
 languid, and her former light step grew slow and 
 heavy. She no longer sang at her work, but would 
 let her hands fall listlessly into her lap, and heave deep 
 sighs, while sometimes the great tears rolled unheeded 
 down her cheeks. 
 
 At length there came the news of the battle of 
 Waterloo. Napoleon had been defeated, and all Eu- 
 rope was ringing with the tidings. Vaninka's sus- 
 pense now amounted to agony. ' Henry I' she would 
 cry, 'Is he killed' Oh when will become''' 
 
 One morning, wlicn she was seated with her mother 
 sewing, she was told that a Prussian olTiccr waited to 
 see her. With her heart trembling between fear and 
 hope, she obeyed the summons. As she slowly en- 
 tered the room, a stranger rose, and advanced to meet 
 her. 
 
 ' Mademoiselle Bretano ? he inquired, bowing. 
 ' The same. Will you be seated, sir V 
 ' I am Frederick Lieten. I served in the battle of 
 Waterloo, in the same regiment with Henry Werder, 
 and he re(iucsted me to deliver this to you.' And 
 as he finished, he placed a small package in her hands. 
 ' Why does he not come himself 1 He is not dead ■? 
 Oh say he is not dead I' she said, in a voice of such 
 imploring agony that the young soldier felt the tears 
 rise in his eyes. 
 
 ' Lady,' he said, in a sad tone, ' Henry fell at 
 Waterloo !' 
 
 She did not scream nor faint, but sank into the choir 
 near her with only a moan of agony. He mistook her 
 silent, tearless agony for calmness, and began to relate 
 the particulars of his comrade's death, and delivered 
 his dying message to his betrothed. Vaninka heard 
 every word, but she neither spoke nor stirred, but sat 
 with her eyes fixed on the little package he had 
 given her. He left her, and her mother found her, half 
 an hour after, still in the same position. 
 
 ' Vaninka,' she said, ' who was your visitor V 
 There was no answer. 
 
 ' Vaninka !' she said again. ' Are you illl' and she 
 laid her hand gently upon her arm. 
 
 ' Dead, mother, dead !' she said, now raising her 
 eyes. ■ 
 
 ' Who is dead, darling V asked her mother, fright- 
 ened at her strange tone. 
 
 Vaninka slowly opened the package, drew out the 
 ring and hair it contained, and murmuring, ' Henry ! 
 Oh, mother, he his dead V she fell sobbing into her 
 mother's arms. 
 
 » * # * « 
 
 We change the scene now to Waterloo, in the latter 
 part of the battle between the armies of Napoleon and 
 Wellington. The moment we choose was the one iu 
 which the Imperial Guard of the Emperor threw them- 
 selves with desperate valor between the advancing 
 Prussian forces and the English army, to prevent their 
 joining their slrenyth. Henry Werder, at the head 
 of his regiment, felt his heart throb with intense excite- 
 ment as the two immense columns, the flower of the 
 French army, advanced upon the English troops. 
 They came on in silence, until within range of the bat- 
 teries prepared to receive them ; then a territBc dis- 
 charge, seeming to rend heaven and earth, scattered 
 death among their ranks. Still these veterans advan- 
 ced ; the honor of their nation was in peril ; they could 
 die ; but not before the enemy. Another discharge and 
 the Prussian troops, who had been rapidly uearing the 
 scene of action, then dashed amongst them. The 
 Garde Imperiale de Napoleon was utterly annihilated. 
 One exultant shout was ruised by the allied armies as 
 this fearful crisis was decided in their favor. 
 
 But where, in the moment of victory, was Henry ? 
 Stretched upon the field, his head supported by his fel- 
 low officer, Frederick Lieton, and the life blood flowing 
 from a wound on his breast. 
 
 ' Frederick ?' he murmured, in a dying voice, ' you 
 will see Vaninka V 
 
 ' If I live 7' answered his comrade, with deep emo- 
 tion. 
 
 ' You will give her this ring, and cut some of my 
 hair o6r for her. Tell her my dying thoughts were all 
 of her. Heaven bless you, my coinrade. Farewell ;' 
 and his head fell heavily back. 
 
 ' Dead,' said Frederick, ' and I must leave him 
 here V 
 
 Frederick was mistaken. Henry was not dead, 
 he had only fainted. Some hours afterwards he was 
 
 lying on a hospital bed in a raving delirium. For 
 weeks his life hung upon a thread ; then a young 
 strong constitution trium|ihed, and begin to mend. 
 H'n physician positively forbade his returning to Prus- 
 sia, and, warning him that his lungs were much effect- 
 ed, ho recommended a winter lit Italy. Writing a long 
 letter to Vaninka to explain his long absence, Henry 
 made his pieparalions, and afier au illness of over 
 three months, started in the early part of October for 
 Naples. He remained there, gaining health and 
 strength until the next June, and started for home. 
 During his residence in Italy, he had written again and 
 again to both' Vaninka and Frederick, and wondered 
 why he had received no letters in answer. His epistles 
 never reached them. 
 
 * * # ♦ 
 
 We now return to Vaninka. Contrary to the fears 
 of her friends, she had seemed to bear her loss with 
 calmness. She had been so long in a state of agonizing 
 suspense, that any certainty, even this direful one, was 
 a relief. Still her step did not regain its elasticity, 
 and her grief, if not loud, was deep. Her friends mis- 
 took despair for calmness. She grew paler and thinner, 
 and now frequently kept her room for days together. 
 
 Her lover had been gone some eight months when 
 her hand was again sought in marriage. Ge.irge 
 Weimar was a gentle, mild, old man, of about seventy 
 years of age, wealthy, and of a large influence in his 
 native town. He was an old friend of Vaniuka's father, 
 and had long thought of seeking Vaninka for bis bride. 
 When, however, he had seen the place he so coveted 
 about to be worthily filled, he had kept silent on the 
 subject of his desires, and cultivated the acquaintance 
 of his lady-love's betrothed. Now deceived as others 
 were by Vaninka's (piier demeanor, he advanced his 
 suit. Her parents knowing that he would spare no 
 pains or expense to make her happy, urged their child 
 to accept his offer and she consented to see him, 
 
 ' Mr. Weimar,' she said, ' I wished to tell you how 
 grateful I feel for your kind and flattering ofl'er, and to 
 place my situation full before you. God alone knows 
 how entirely my heart is occupied by my de.id love. 
 Since I heard of my irreparable loss, I have felt that I 
 should ere long join him ; still, I endeavored faithfully 
 to perform the duties left to me. I do not think I shall 
 live long, but if I can, by any means, add to the happi- 
 ness of another, God has granted me the will to do so. 
 If you will accept my band, knowing that my heart is 
 in Henry's grave, it is yours, and I will endeavor to 
 fulfil my duties as a wife, trusting to your love and in- 
 dulgence to forgive me if I fail in making you happy 
 while I am with you." 
 
 The good old man was too happy to have his offer 
 accepted on any terms, and he thanked her warmly. 
 A day was soon set for the wedding, and all things 
 were making ready. 
 
 Mr. Weimar hoped, by travelling and other diver- 
 sions of her mind, to raise his bride's spirits and pro- 
 long her feeble life. 
 
 * * * * * 
 Again it was the night before Vaninka's wedding, 
 
 and again she was seated, lost in thought, in ihe same 
 chair that we first s.aw her in. Now, alas, the reverie 
 was a very painful one, and low, choking sobs took the 
 place of her former happy smiles. She was sitting 
 painfully reflecting on the past when a shadow fell on 
 the ground before her, and, raising her eyes, she saw a 
 stranger standing looking on her. He stood with his 
 back to the light ; she could not see his face, but some- 
 thing made her heart stand still as she arose to greet 
 him. He only said one word, ' Vaninka I' and, ex- 
 claiming ' Henry V she sprang to his embrace. He 
 caught her passionately to his breast, and held her 
 there as if he feared another separation. 
 
 ' So,' said a pleasant voice at the door, ' there is a 
 change of bridegrooms,' and Mr. Weimar entered the 
 room. Vaninka stood a moment confused, but taking 
 her hand, he placed it in Henry's, saving — ' Take her 
 Henry ; she is too young, good and handsome fur an 
 old man like myself. I was an old fool to think of it 
 Take her, and my warmest blessing attend your union. 
 And with a kind beaming smile, the old man left them 
 together. 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 279 
 
 This time Vmiinkii's wt'dilini;; wns not postponed, 
 and as Vaniiikmind Henry stood before tlie altar, Mr, 
 Wi imiir, Willi hin;j the huppy bluslilng fiicc of ilic bride 
 owned thiit he could not have lallod up, with till his 
 devotion, such aaexpics.iion of perfect lo»e and joy. 
 
 THE BECCAR AND THE BIRDS. 
 
 ' What a miserable world this is !' exclaimed Ka- 
 roun, the begf;ar, as he sat one day at tlio gates of the 
 city of Bagdad ; ' were I to make it over again, I 
 would exceedingly mend it ! My world should con- 
 tain no kings, and certainly no cadis — every one should 
 do that which was ri^ht in his own eyes — it should be 
 possible to get money without working for it, and 
 knowledge without learning. Allah! what a miserable 
 world is this. Of what use are the tribes of children 
 forever iuteriupting one with their noisy play ■? With- 
 out doubt, we should be rid of some thousands — and 
 their mothers. Why are women such tender creatures? 
 In my world they should be as strong as horses, and 
 dig and plant, and go to battle, like their husbands. 
 Then, in regard to gold and silver and precious stones, 
 there should be pleniy for every one, or else none at 
 all — and the same of palaces, fine horses, and rich 
 clothes. As to diseases and misfortunes, I would 
 abolish them altogether, just as I would poisons, pre- 
 cipices, storms and earthquakes, and whatever else 
 tends to shorten life. Oh, what a beautiful world 
 could make of this ! However, I feel inclined for a nap 
 at present, so I will remove to yonder grove for the 
 benelit of the shade.' 
 
 The self complacent beggar accordingly stretched 
 himself beneath a large plane tree, and presently fell 
 into a sound slumber, in which slumber he was visited 
 with the following dream. 
 
 He fancied himself where ho was, lying under a plane 
 tree ; but he also imagined he heard an extraordinary 
 noise among the branches. On lifting up his eyes to 
 discover the cause, he found the tree filled with all 
 manner of birds, screaming, singing, whistling, and 
 chattering. They were more voicifcrous than all the 
 beggars of Bagdad, and grievously annoyed our friend 
 Kiroun. 
 
 By and by the tree became quiet; the birds arranged 
 themselves on the boughs in companies, according to 
 their kind; and the beggar discovered that it was a 
 parliament ol birds, met to deliberate on the state of 
 the feathered world. 
 
 The golden eagle sat aloft in silent majesty; and a 
 venerable honored owl opened the business of the meet- 
 ing by entreating the members to conduct the meeting 
 with decorum, and bear in mind that wisdom was 
 never confined to birds of one generation. He w<is 
 followed by a superb red and green parret, who scratch- 
 ed his head and spoke as follows : — 
 
 'I conceive that for many ages birds have been 
 grossly used by nature; and I hail the meeting of the 
 present assembly, that the rights and privileges of all 
 who have claws and beaks are about to be understood. 
 I do not speak for myself. My fate makes me the 
 associate of man, the favorite of ladies. I am fed with 
 dainties, and observe all that passes in dining and 
 drawing rooms. For myself, I liave little reason to 
 complain: I speik as a patriot — why should not all 
 birds have the privileges of parrots 7 Is it not gross 
 partiality that we alone should have gilt cages V 
 
 The speaker ceased amid tremendous applause. 
 
 The crow spoke next. 'I agree with the parrot,' 
 said he, ' in blaming nature; but I disagree with him 
 as to his mode of charging her with injustice. The 
 evil lies deeper. There ought to bo no guilt cages, no 
 fine plumage, no sweet voices, among us. Why is one 
 kind of bird to be e.xalted over another ? and yet this 
 will ever be the case while these vain and useless dis- 
 tinctions remain in force. Why am I to serve the 
 farmer, by clearing his fields of grubs and worms, and 
 be considered a low-lived bird only because I am use- 
 ful ■? while the nightingale must be admired because 
 she sings I Why docs not man write poetry about 
 me? What is a nightingale but a bird like myself? 
 Is not she ' 
 
 Here he was called to order, and a beautiful dove 
 
 spoke next. • I do not complain,' said he, 'of what 
 the preceding orators have complained. My regret is 
 that distinction does not make amenils for conscious 
 wcaknO!.s. What signify my delicate plumage, and 
 tender note, while I want the eagle's wing and hawk's 
 eye V 
 
 Here the owl attempted to speak, but was prevented 
 by a magpie. 'My case,' said the chatterer, 'is harder 
 still. My plumage is beautiful, but no one will own it; 
 I talk, but no one will listen to me. I am a persecuted 
 bird — an envied genius.' 
 
 Here the magpie was interrupted by a sparrow. 
 
 ' Why «m I to be shot for a dumpling any more than 
 a redtireast V 
 
 ' And why,' said the lark, ' am I to be roasted any 
 more than a nightingale V 
 
 ' Why are we to be preyed upon by kites and 
 hawks V cried the birds in a chorus. 
 
 'Let us rebel,' said the tomtits. 
 
 ' Let us be kites and hawks ourselves,' said the jenny 
 wrens. 
 
 ' Let us leave man to pick up his own caterpillars,' 
 said the sparrows ; ' the world will come to an end 
 without us.' 
 
 ' It will ! in will I' screamed all the little birds. 
 
 At this point of the dream and debate, Kiroun 
 fancied he thus addressed the congress of birds : — 
 ' With the exception of the eagle and owl, who, to do 
 them justice, are sensible, well-behaved bipeds, you are 
 a set of insolent, foolish, half-witted creatures, not 
 worthy of wearing feathers. Listen now to reason, 
 and since birds cannot blush, hide your heads under 
 your wings for shame. In the first place, Mr. Parrot, 
 if every bird is to live in a gilt cage, and hang up in a 
 drawing-room, pray where is a man to live him- 
 self? 
 
 ' In the second place, I ask Mr. Crow whether he 
 clears the farmer's fields of worms from love to the 
 farmer, or the desire of a good meal ? 
 
 ' Thirdly, if any of you, after a reasonable enjoyment 
 of life, object to be killed to feed men, why, I ask, may 
 not the grubs and flies also object to being killed to 
 feed you ? 
 
 ' Fourthly, if you were all of one kind, all eagles, or 
 all kites, would there not be ten times more fighting 
 among you than there now is ? And what, I demand, 
 must you live upon ? 
 
 'Fifthly, if you object to dying altogether, and yet 
 treble jour numbers every year, how is the world to 
 hold you all ? And as for you, sparrows, chaffinches, 
 larks, wrens, &c., who is it that steals man's corn, eats 
 his cherries, and picks his peas ? Little mischievous 
 varlets, as you are, your lives are forfeited fifty times 
 before they arc taken. 
 
 'Lastly, I entreat you all, from the eagle down to_the 
 tomtit, to look away from your own individual interest 
 to that world of which you form so small a portion. I 
 do assure you it is infinitely better, on the whole, that 
 you should differ from each other just as you do — that 
 some should be strong, some weak, some beautiful, 
 some ugly, some wear fine coats, some plain ones. 
 Now, begone everyone of you, and, instead of wishing 
 to amend nature, try to amend your own manners.' 
 
 In a few minutes all was silent. 
 
 It was now Karoun's turn to bo reproved. He 
 dreamed that a tall figure stood by his side, and .said, 
 in a stern voice, 'Presumptuous mortal ! thou hast had 
 no patience with the folly of the birds — yet thine own 
 is far greater. Thou mend the world ! Thy mending 
 would be destruction. Were there no disease and no 
 misfortune, how could man exercise the virtues that 
 fit him for paradise ? As to death, is it not a blessing 
 to the righteous ? And if thou art wicked, is it not 
 thiuc own fault ? If all possessed riches, who would 
 do the work ? If everyone was wise, who must learn? 
 And if everyone was ignorant, who must teach ? 
 Thou thickest the world would bo happy if there 
 were no laws or rulers— no such thing ! Where there 
 are two battles, there would be twenty j where there are 
 five robberies, there would be fifiy ; and for one lazy, 
 discontented vagabond, like thyself, there would be a 
 thousand. Go about thy business, IxarouD, and, in- 
 
 stead of wishing to mend the world, try to mend thy 
 own manners.' 
 
 This dream made ICaroun a wiser man. He gave up 
 being a beggar ; and hiring himsef to a fisherman, he 
 became a contented and a respectable member of 60- 
 cioiy. 
 
 A LITTLE ROMANCE. 
 
 Baron Hohcnberg had invited for his birthday 
 all his relations, friends, and boon companions of 
 the neighborhood. Ladies wore not seen at his 
 board. The first arrival was Baron V. II., the lord 
 lieutenant of the county. The noble host received 
 him in his usual jovial manner, led him up the 
 staircase, and opened for him the door of the large 
 hall ; butheimmediately started back horrified, cov- 
 ering his face with both hands, and trembling from 
 head to foot. As his visitor, in amazement, asked 
 him what was the matter, the host, in great agita- 
 tion, pointed towards the middle of the hall, being 
 unable to utter anything beyond ' There I there !' 
 
 The lord lieutenant replied that he saw nothing 
 but the large banqueting table ready spread. 
 
 Baron Hohenberg, however, exclaimed, ' There ! 
 there ! don't you see that the hall is all hung with 
 black, and also the many funeral tapers ? — and lo ! 
 yonder I am myself laid out on the state bed; and 
 oh ! the nasty smell of the tapers, and the oil, and 
 perhaps of the corpse itself !' 
 
 The lord lieutenant had great difficulty in induc- 
 ing his host to enter the room, in order that he might 
 convince himself by touch that there was really 
 nothing but the banqueting table. As the guests 
 arrived, by degrees the agitation of the baron gave 
 way to his usual joviality. 
 
 He now told them that, just a year before, when 
 out hunting, a gipsy fortune teller, after looking at 
 his hand, had told him that he should always pass 
 his birthday quite alone, in serious thought and 
 prayer, secluded from the world, and even from his 
 own people, for his birthday would also be the day 
 of his death, and that he would lose his life by a 
 fool. The guests now sat down to table, when 
 merry toasts were proposed, wishing to the giver of 
 the feast long life, much happiness, and a speedy 
 marriage. 
 
 After dinner, the company went into the open air 
 to amuse themselves with different rural sports. 
 AU at once some, one called out, -But where is our 
 merry andre w. Master Michal Ganskragon? — (Goose 
 neck.) Since we arose from table he has made him- 
 self scarce; he is sure to be lying dead drunk either 
 in the kitchen or in the cellar.' 
 
 The poor fellow, who used to be baited by every 
 one, and, especially in the games, was most liberally 
 treated to kicks and cuffs innumerable, had taken 
 refuge in a closet at the top of the house, known to 
 but a few of the inmates, and which was only ap- 
 proached by a narrow and very steep staircase. 
 The boisterous guests, after having searched the 
 whole castle in vain, returned vexed and angry to 
 the skittle ground. Baron Hohenberg, however, 
 told them, with a laugh, that he could at once bring 
 down the jester. 
 
 All followed the host, who was not long in dis- 
 covering the deserter in his hiding place; but the 
 jester refused to open the door. In vain the master 
 of the house tried to kick it in, until at last he re- 
 membered an old forgotten rope by which it might 
 be opened. He pulled with all his might; but the 
 rotten line snapped, and Baron llohcnbcrgh, falling 
 backwards down the staircase, broke his neck. 
 
 When, on the following day, the lord lieutenant, 
 with his officials, entered the hall where the ban- 
 quet had been on the day before, a shudder seized 
 him — the corpse lay exactly in the same place, and 
 the whole hall was fitted up as Baron Hohenberg 
 had described it from his vision of second sight. 
 ' Hohenberg ! Hohenberg ! and never Hohenberg 
 any more 1' it was then said, as is the custom 
 wherever the shield and helmet are laid on the 
 coliin of the last of his race. 
 
280 
 
 IRISH MlprFU AVY 
 
 A HARE IN FORMt 
 
 The scene aboYe represents -what, in sportsman's 
 phrase, is called ' a hare in form.' It is when the 
 animal crouches down to escape the vigilance of its 
 natural enemies. The attitude is one of perfect rest, 
 but it admits of instantaneous change to a state of j 
 the utmost activity. The ease and safety of ' poor j 
 puss ■ are thus provided for liy one arrangement, 
 and the economy of the Creator's works, and the 
 benevolence of his nature made plain to the passer 
 by. j 
 
 Study the form of a hare. In the flattest and 
 most unpromisinj of fields, the creature will have 
 availed herself of some little hollow to the lee of an 
 insignificant tuft of grass, and there she will have 
 nestled and fidgeted about till she has made a smooth, 
 round, grassy bed, compact and fitted to her shape, 
 ■where she may cuil herself snugly up, and cower 
 down below the level of the cutting night 
 wind. 
 
 PoUow her example ; a man, as he lies down upon 
 bis mother earth, is but a small low object, and a 
 screen of eighteen inches high will guard him se- 
 curely from the strength of a storm. The great 
 mistake of a novice lies in selecting a tree for his 
 camping place, whirh spreads out nobly above, but 
 affords nothing but a bamu otim below. It may 
 be that, as he walks ahout in search of a bush, the 
 quantity of fuliane n* the level of his eye, with its 
 broad shadow, (!tii»tly attracts him, and, as he stands 
 to the leeward of it. it seems snug; and, therefore, 
 without farther reflection, he orders his bed to be 
 spread at its foot. 
 
 But, as soon a« he lies down upon the 
 ground, the tree proves wortlilcss as a screen; 
 it is a roof, and not a wall ; what is really wanted 
 is a dense low screen, perfectly wind-tight, as high 
 np as the kni e above the ground. All additional 
 defence is superfluous to a sleeping man. Thus, if 
 a traveller has to encamp on a bare turf plain, he 
 neM only turn up a broad sod, seven feet long by 
 two feet wide, and if he succeeds in propping it up 
 on its edge, it will form a sufficient shield against 
 the wind. 
 
 A HARE IN FORM. 
 
 THE MILITARY SURGEON. 
 
 We look with pleasure at a regiment on its march. 
 Our hearts are thrilled by the martial music, and 
 we regard with deep interest its mounted generals, 
 who have turned grey in the service of their coun- 
 try, leaving home, comfort, and riches, for the hard- 
 ships of the tented field. The soldiers who follow 
 on foot, ranged in companies, are their natural suc- 
 cessors. These crosses, these epaulettes, and that 
 authority, will become the heritage of those men, 
 who, with burdens on their backs, silently obey. 
 
 Following these long files of soldiers, we observe 
 a man modestly clad, and walking on foot. Like 
 them, he is on the road to battle ; but he is not, like 
 them, on the road to glorious renown and fortune. 
 His duties will be unattended with eclat ; his vigils 
 will be unrcmembered ; and even though he should 
 prove a hero, as did Becourt at the field of Eylau, 
 he will probably not, like him, be personally re- 
 warded by an emperor. But an hour will come 
 when this man will be the chief amongst all this 
 multitude. It is the hour after the battle. 
 I During the fight he will brave death as fearlessly 
 I as any other one. Without sharing the excitement 
 of the combatants, he will be a great actor in the 
 bloody strife. He will becalm and reflective when 
 all around him are agitated and distracted. He de- 
 nies himself emotion, for his hand must not trem- 
 ' ble; his glance must be penetrating, and his judg- 
 ment must be promjit and unerring. In an atmos- 
 phere of grapeshot and smoke, he is as collected as 
 in his cabinet. The shrieks of the wounded and the 
 booming of the cannons disturb him not j his hand 
 is as steady as in the operating theatre of a hospi- 
 tal. 
 
 All ranks appeal to him for aid, and he obeys as 
 promptly the call of the poor soldier as of the mighty 
 general ; he succors the fallen of the enemy as well 
 as the wounded of his own army. The mangled 
 and dying bodies of his companions and friends are 
 brought to him, yet he must stirlein the birth every 
 rising emotion, for the eye of the surgeon should 
 I never be veiled by a tear. Kneeling on the bloody 
 j straw of the ambulance carriage, he coolly issues 
 
 his orders, and his moral courage revives the sink- 
 ing hopes of the wounded ; for his face wears a su- 
 preme calm which inspires them with confidence. 
 
 In these solemn hours,the military surgeon is the 
 repository of great mysteries. The dying man en- 
 trusts him with tender messages for his far away 
 family ; one confides to him his riches, another his 
 profoundcst secrets. After the battle, the general, 
 the officer, and the soldier, hear only the shouts of 
 triumph and songs of joy ; but the surgeon only 
 hears the long and plaintive groaning of the whole 
 army. 
 
 Night comes, and all are asleep save him ; a 
 vigilant sentinel, he is awake amongst the wounded. 
 Next day, though exhausted with fatigue, he sets 
 out with the ambulance ; he goes to one and to 
 another ; here, hastily exploring a wound ; there, 
 searching for a bullet in the cavity of the human 
 chest. He goes about giving hope to all; sowing 
 life — so to speak ; wrestling in despair with death ; 
 inventing and improving a thousand methods; trans- 
 forming planks and cords into surgical apparatus; 
 even tearing his clothes into rags to staunch the 
 blood of the wounded. His is the struggle between 
 the blind force of destruction and the intelligent 
 power of conservative science. Such is the man 
 whom we have seen modestly walking at the left 
 of the regiment. 
 
 Over tliat breatliiiig waste of friends and foes. 
 The wounded aud the dying, hour by liour— 
 In will a tboiiKind, jet but one in power- 
 He labors through Ibe red aud groaning day. 
 The fearf\il moorland where the myriads lay, 
 Moved as a moving field of mangled worms, 
 Aiid as a raw brood, orplioacd in the storms, 
 T iruet up their lieads if the wind bend a spray 
 Above them, but when the bare branch performi 
 No sweet parental office, sink away 
 With hopeless chirj) of woe, bo, as he goes. 
 Around bis feet in clamorous agony 
 Tbey rise and full ; and all the seething plain 
 Bubbles a cauldron vast of many colored pain. 
 
 When a lazy man says, ' I'll do it at my leisure,' 
 ' you may take it for granted he will never do it at 
 
 I 
 
HUSH MISCELLANY. 
 
 2gl 
 
 iRiSH MISCELLAi^Y 
 
 - PBorniEToii. 
 
 - CONUUCTOU. 
 
 BOSTON, SATURDAY, DECEMBER 11. 1858. 
 
 THE COMING MUNICIPAL ELECTION AND 
 THE DEMOCRATIC PARTY. 
 
 It has now become a commoa phrase that ' in mu- 
 nicipal goverumont elections there should be no politi- 
 Ciil party strife,' but a unity of sentiment in the selec- 
 tion anil ek'ition of the very best men. To this we 
 would cordially agree, could we find the dift'erent 
 parties sufficiently honest, and disposed to allow the 
 opposition a fair representation in the city government, 
 such an one that would not allow the whole of the 
 offices to be tilled by Republicans or Americans, to the 
 exclusion of Democracts. Neither do we go for the 
 so-called citizens' movement. We have memory suf- 
 ficient to recur back to some curious and fun-inspiring 
 pantomines performed in that way, where a few buf- 
 foons made laughable grimaces, which, for the mo- 
 ment, pleased the populace, but were intended to cheat 
 them ; after which the people found, to their cost, that 
 they had been 'acted upon.' It is true that the muni- 
 cipal governments of Boston have not been composed 
 of that rowdyish class which characterizes other cities, 
 nor have they so grossly robbed the people. If they 
 have, it has been done cunningly, and they have not 
 made much noise about it, for which we ought certainly 
 to thank them. To commit a robbery is bad enough, 
 not to make a boast of it. But we must not be under- 
 stood to believe ihat there is not a few little pickings 
 and stealings, after all, neatly done by the old jackals, 
 who, for years, have been such pure philanthropists 
 that, fearing the city would become bankrupt, have 
 made it appear necessary to certain weak-minded 
 people amongst their constituants that, for public safety, 
 it would be absolutely necessary they should be re- 
 elected. 
 
 In making the selections for the offices of Mayor, 
 Aldermen and Common Councilmen, the pledge 
 should be exacted that, if elected, exclu.siveness should 
 not be tolerated. Then will be the proper time 
 for layin;; down party nominations; then will harmony 
 prevail, and improvement in our city be expected. 
 
 We may, then, seeing that a municipal election is 
 upon us, ask how much the Democratic party has got out 
 of the City Treasury during the last year? Would it 
 amount to one per cent ? We think not. Under 
 these circumstances, would it not be as well to make 
 distinct party nominaiions, or aid that party which is 
 found nearest to honesty, and most willing to do tight? 
 We may as well here allude to the fact, that when 
 Mayor Lincoln was elected, some leading Democrats 
 thought well to advise that honored genileman not to 
 put any adopted citizens on the police. How well he 
 has observed that advise is obvious, and the reasons for 
 acting upon that policy we have heard from that gen- 
 tleman himself, that ' although never belonging to a 
 secret organization, and opposed to its spirit and 
 doctrines, he really thought it better not to again 
 awaken this bad feeling, which was now dying out, by 
 the triBing boon of placing a few men in that body.' 
 Now. we do not believe those Democrats above 
 alluded to were the Dejiockatic party, by any 
 means, nor were they authorizid to act for it. Neither 
 do we believe in his honor the Mayor's views, of pan- 
 dering to unjust prejudices. Wo believe there are men 
 not only fitted for those places amongst our adopted 
 fellow-citizens, but fitted for any other place, Amongst all 
 the governments on earth, they have won position, as 
 well in the present as in the past. No race amongst 
 men, nor subdivisions of race, present a more exalted 
 capacity, a brighter intelligence, a more natural or ac- 
 quired ability for positions of trust or importance than 
 that much abused, but to New England people un- 
 known, for unread of, Celtic race. 
 
 The Auditor's forty-fifth annual report of the receipts 
 and expenditures of the city of Boston and the county 
 of Suffolk is before us, and we atk what portion of the 
 
 outlay has been received by the adopted citizens? And 
 we do not wish to make invidious distinctions when wo 
 say they are not noticed in the expenditure or outlay 
 of the city government funds, nor would we here allude 
 to the matter if they wore not ostracized. This being 
 an evident fact, their growing numbers may render 
 thorn of sufficient importance to astonish those gen- 
 tlemen whose ouly ability and popularity is in decrying 
 the adopted citizen. Wo will never be found making 
 appeals to the passions, places, or creeds ; but we will, 
 by every legal and peaceful means, combat the preju- 
 dices which attempts to degrade the national or indi- 
 vidual character of our people. 
 
 In regard to the present city authorities, we would 
 here remark that no city in the Union is nor can be 
 better governed than the city of Boston. No man in 
 the past nor coming future will fill the civic chair with 
 more urbanity, capacity, and integrity, than Frederick 
 W. Lincoln, Jr., nor can any reason be given why he 
 should bo superceded by a new and untried man. We 
 predict his almost unanimous election. We fuel pleased 
 that that sterling Democrat, Mr. Pierce, goes again to 
 the board, and that Emerson will be with him. Alder- 
 man Joseph M. Wightman, Chairman of the Commit- 
 tee on Police, we think a capital worker, and to his ar- 
 rangements, and their execution by Chief of Police 
 Coburn, do we owe the efficiency of that body during 
 the last year. We have hitherto had complaints to 
 make of some of the men composing the police force, 
 but of those who are now posted in our portion of the 
 city, all agree that too much cannot be said of their 
 gentlemanly conduct and bearing. Nor shall we ever 
 withhold praise where we believe it deservedly due. 
 
 The popular branch of the government is well pre- 
 sided over, and, taken altogether, are an active body of 
 men ; and if some changes were made in the upper 
 board, the Common Council would make some useful 
 reforms. 
 
 We trust the School Committee, or those of it whose 
 terms expire, will be allowed to pay full attention to 
 their own business, for we think they have performed 
 the duty entrusted to them any way bnt satisfac- 
 torily. 
 
 We cannot forget that the present city govern- 
 ment has been most liberal in their attentions to 
 everything that regarded the poor, and those who 
 were out of work during the last winter ; and we 
 trust they will be as liberal and active in everything 
 relating to the interests of that class in the coming 
 cold season. Those attentions, and all that is done 
 by any government to alleviate suffering, is well re- 
 ceived, and makes popular those who exert them- 
 selves in behalf of the poor. Should the approach- 
 ing winter be one of severity, let the Mayor employ 
 all the labor that offers, that the frosted snow may 
 not be allowed to accumulate, nay, even to keeping 
 the streets of our city swept. The labor thus af- 
 forded will keep warm the poor man's dwelling 
 and feed his children, and our citizens will cheer- 
 fully endorse that item of expenditure. Our city 
 institutions are up to the mark, if not superior to 
 all others. Our citizens retire to rest with as little 
 fear of being disturbed as those of any other portion 
 j of the known world. Neither is the ear or sanctity 
 of home disturbed by those offensive noises which 
 are too frequent in other large and crowded cities. 
 
 It is also true that we cannot boast of the morals 
 either of our city or its government ; ' to err is 
 human,' and ' man is depraved.' Nor will the elec- 
 tion to an important city trust prove the man to be 
 of ' God's elect.' On the other hand, when we call 
 to mind the many trying scenes and associations, 
 the visits of condolence to the poor in our institu- 
 tions of charity, the visits for reforming and check- 
 ing vice to our Magdalens and houses of correction, 
 which our City Fathers are obliged to make annu- 
 ally, we are inclined to commiserate rather than 
 blame them or their position, nor dare we ask too 
 much from them I 
 
 On the whole, with a few changes in the Board of 
 Aldermen, a few in the lower branch, a sharp look- 
 out upon the demands for money for tilling up the 
 
 Back Bay, keeping an eye upon that aristocratic 
 southern square, making the whole body know they 
 arc the people's servants, elected to perform busi- 
 ness of the most important character for a large city 
 — the prospect is, that we will live another year 
 through without bankruptcy, civil war, or any other 
 particular collapse. 
 
 MR. MCCEE'S LECTURE. 
 
 The very able lecture on the ' Historical and Politi- 
 cal Connection of Scotland with Ireland,; by Thomas 
 D'arcy McGee, which was concluded in our last num- 
 ber, we have read with much interest. It is another 
 evidence of the historical knowledge possessed by the 
 author, whom we look upon as a repository of infor- 
 mation, upon all that relates to the Celt or Gael. 
 
 We wish that that celebrated author, Washington 
 Irving, would give his opinion to the world upon the 
 voyages of St. Brandon, Patron of Clonfert, whose 
 voyages to America, or the ' Promised Land,' is so 
 much held in estimation in Northern Europe, and of 
 which so much corroborative evidence exists. A full 
 digest of the knowledge of this truly great author 
 would go far to prove that America is the ' great 
 Ireland ' or ' Irland it Mikla ' of the North ; which, pro- 
 bably, would disturb the claim of Columbus himself, 
 who knew of the tradition, and spoke of them, and 
 make it appear that, upon the right of discovery, the 
 sons of the ' Old Isle,' have the prior claim of native- 
 ism. We well remember of Mr. McGee calling upon 
 Mr. Irving for his opinion, bnt did not receive it. We 
 are pleased to add Mr. McGee to the list of our con- 
 tributers. 
 
 OBITUARY. 
 
 It is with feelings of the deepest regret and sorrow 
 that we have to announce the lamentable demise 
 of the Rev. John T. Rodden, universally known as 
 one of the ablest clergymen of the diocese, as a bril- 
 liant writer and profound thinker. Like the rest 
 of good men, he did not please every body (nor 
 sought he so to do), while everyone who knew him 
 believed him arduous, affable, benevolent, and 
 sincere ; where best known, most regretted. By a 
 complication of diseases, he was summoned before 
 the Great Eternal Judge, where, we trust, he had 
 an advocate whose plea was never in vain, and that 
 to him was pronounced the words, ' Well done, 
 good and faithful servant, enter thou into the joy 
 of thy Lord.' ' Ilequiescat in pace.' 
 " - — — — — — ^ rtiT— ^B^— liMMnmn 
 
 LETTER FROM GENERAL SHIELDS. 
 
 We take the liberty of giving publicity to the follow- 
 ing letter from General Shields : — 
 
 Washikqton, Not. 25, 1868. 
 
 My Dear Friend — Vour letter of list September has only 
 just reached me. I regret this, as it may have iDcliaed you 
 to believe that I couid for one moment neglect to reply to 
 one of your letters. For the honor you have done me, in 
 dedicating your work to my name, please to accept my sin- 
 cere and hearty thanks. ' Remiuisccuccs of a Soldier ' by 
 you ought to be full of interest. I have been out of the 
 world for a short time, recruiting my health, and have seen 
 or read nothing. Is the work published? I long to see it. 
 It is the work of a brave soldier, and his views and expe- 
 riences will be a treat to me. Your views in relation to 
 naturalization are worthy ol consideration. I will revolve 
 them in my mind, and eeo what can be done. With the 
 best wishes for health aud happiness, accept my tbankc and 
 assurances of regard. Your friend, 
 
 James Shields. 
 
 Thomas O'Neill, Esq., Boston, Mass. 
 
 We are happy to announce to the reader.'; of the Mis- 
 cellany that we have added to our <;orps Christopher 
 Plunkett, who will assist in conducting the business 
 department of the paper. We hope those who are sub- 
 cribers, and those who know the benefit of advertising 
 in a paper which will bo bound in book form, will 
 give him duo attention — and their orders. 
 
 J. Fonn, importer and wholesale dealer in foreign 
 and domestic liquors, Noe. 156 and 158 Federal 
 street. 
 
282 
 
 IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 [Written lor the Miscellauy.] 
 THE SCHOOLBOY. 
 
 ST J. MBAOUBR KAVAHAQU. 
 
 Spring time now, the birds arc siogiug 
 0*er the meadow* hill and way, 
 
 Of the tittle fchoolboy Hngiug 
 Out hiu merry soug to-day. 
 
 There 's a Bmile upon bis feature, 
 Tokens of come cbcri&h'd hope, 
 Thoughts of prefout, past aud Aiture, 
 * Aud of lileV approacbiug slope. 
 
 Armed like a little giant, 
 For thefchool-houj^e on to-tlay, 
 
 lonoceiit and tbuti detiant 
 To the world's unholy way. 
 
 Summer now, the »un is sbiuing 
 
 Over valley, hill aud phiiu, 
 Gaity comes a young man singing, 
 
 In youtL^s t>weet aud Joyful strain. 
 
 Life is lill'd, 'tis true, with pleasures 
 To the young and gay to-day ; 
 
 Yet there comes a time such treasures 
 Unto dust agaiu decay. 
 
 Kow's the time to choose life's pathway ; 
 
 Whicli will wrong or right prt-vuil? 
 Steer your bark for lieaveu's gateway, 
 
 And from Satan's Muful pale. 
 
 Autumn now, the leaves are falling 
 From the branches of each tree; 
 
 Youth is gone, old age is dawning 
 On the young so gay and free. 
 
 Winter comes, the snow is falling 
 On the mountain, bill and plaiu; 
 
 Hark: an old man "s gently calling 
 In a sad and deathly strain. 
 
 Hear the weeping and the wailing 
 Of the friends who round him move; 
 
 Tis no use, his spirit 's flying 
 To the blissful laud of love. 
 
 Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1858, by 
 Thomas O'Meill, in the District Court of ilassachusetts. 
 
 REMINISCEXCES IN THE 
 
 LIFE IF k 
 
 — IK TDE — 
 
 ENGLISH AND AMERICAN SER■\^CES. 
 BY THOMAS O'NEILL. 
 
 DEDICATED TO GENE UAL JAMES SHIELDS. 
 
 A SOLDIER'S FREAKS. 
 
 If Fred Lysaght siill lives, there lives one who is in 
 every true sense of the term a gentleman. Born and 
 reared in atBaence, of an aristocratic family, and a 
 land owner, he was inttrndcd for the church, and af- 
 ter going through the usual preparations, he was sent 
 to Oxford University to study theology, and prepare 
 for the work of the ministry. 
 
 Fred seems to have heen a wild youth, for,some time 
 after entering college, he, with others, was charged 
 with the crime, and convicted, of administering the 
 sacrament of tlie Lord's supper to an ass. They were, 
 of course, cxptUed from the college. 
 
 Among Fred's accomplices in thi^ sacrilege was 
 Walters of the ' Times." This is the.man, who, since 
 then, 60 berates the Roman Catholic religion and 
 priesthood, and who cannot invent lies enough to stig- 
 matize and defame the character of the larbulent Irish. 
 The above f.ict was proved beyond contradiction by 
 Fuhlicola, in the London Weekly Despatch, in the 
 year 1841, when Alderman llarmer was at the head of 
 that paper. 
 
 Fred, having lost all hope of becoming a minister, 
 or serving in the church militant, by the premature at- 
 teiftpt of serving on a common without waiting to be 
 called to the altar, turned his attention to the army. 
 He obuincd a commission as litntenant in an infantry 
 regiment, and was in due time promoted to a captaincy. 
 But the income receiyed from the service, aided by re- 
 
 mittances from his family at h jme, was not at all suf- 
 ficent to supply his wants. Every month found him 
 longing for 'the route, ' as ho said the order for march 
 receipted a year's bills for him. 
 
 At one time the regiment to whiih he belonged lay 
 idle at Cork, and when it became known that it was 
 ordered lo England, his creditors became importunate 
 for a settlement of their claims against him. It was, 
 however, of little use to Ihem, for Fred kept out of 
 their way. One of them, more importunate than the 
 rest, was determined, in his own mind, to secure a set- 
 tlement, or know some reason why ho should not do so. 
 lie obtained a writ against him. Our hero got wind, 
 and was equally determined to outwit the Corkonian. 
 He was never at home, or if he chanced to bo caught 
 there, he was sure lo be sick, and could not bo seen. 
 His duor was always locked. 
 
 The morning the regiment left, the bailiff who held 
 the writ was determined not to be baulked, and so 
 placed himscK at the door of Fred's ([uarters. He 
 nabbed him. The regiment wis otF.aboard the steamer 
 bound for an English port. The bailitf, exulting in 
 the success of his perseverance, brought his nmn otf to 
 the debtor's prison — when lo I and behold, to his utter 
 amazement and chagrin, he learned, wlien too lale,thac 
 he had arrested the wrong man. The captain had ex- 
 changed regimentals with his servant, and got clear 
 ort". The servant, who remained in the room dressed 
 in his master's clothes, had issued at a fining time and 
 was taken. But as a servant, though dressed in a 
 captain's uniform, cannot legally be held fur a captain's 
 debt, he was allowed to follow his master in the next 
 steamer. 
 
 I cannot follow my friend through all his varied 
 and multiplied tricks and dodges from this time until 
 he was obliged to sell out — that is, dispose of his com- 
 mission, or submit to be ' cashiered.' He sold out, 
 spent the money, and then enlisted in a regiment of 
 Hu3sars, wheie he passed through all the grades from 
 private up to troop sergeant msijor, two or three times. 
 I knew him as regimental clerk, school master, letter- 
 carrier, cook for the troop, and at last as servant to an 
 officer. He had abUity and capacity fur any and every 
 post or service, but lacked steadiness of application to 
 retain one. His large estate was encumbered by his 
 extravagance. His sisters, who were wealthy, oftered 
 to redeem it if he promised and gave evidence of 
 amendment. But no, Fred would have his frolic, no 
 matter at what cost. His relatives were in the habit of 
 remitting him funds from timeto iirae,until they found 
 that it was more an injury than a beneht to him. In 
 lact, he never did any good, until compelled to subiist 
 upon soldiers pay. 
 
 I remember well being on guard at the outer gate 
 one night when the regiment lay in Brighton. Just 
 before daylight I heard a strange noise outside the 
 barrack gate, and, opening which, we found Fred Ijing 
 in a most pitiable plight,covercd all over wiih blood, so 
 exhausted that he could hardly speak ; yet he was en- 
 deavoring to scold somebody, whom he gave us to un- 
 dcrs.and had abused him, and whom he had left for 
 dead on the common. Upon taking him to the guard 
 room it was found that his hands were terribly lacer- 
 ated. We could, however, gain no further information 
 from him than that he had killed the fellow who had 
 quarrelled with him, and that wo would find his body 
 on the common. 
 
 As soon as it became daylight the place he desig- 
 nated was searched. It was a little common adjoining 
 the barracks, through which a pathway led along a 
 precipice or cliff to the town of Brighton. It was a 
 very perilous passage for even a sober man to traverse, 
 for, should he fall, hi-i destruction was almost inevita- 
 ble. It was seldom passed, except in daylight, as a 
 short cut from the town to the barracks. Even so, it 
 was but seldom resorted to, tbe risk being %'ery great. 
 We searched in vain for ihc dead man ; but wo 
 found the man-killer — a small cask of rum, which 
 Fred had contrived to roll along this dangerous path- 
 way on a dark winter's night. It was covered with 
 his blood. We trembled when we saw it. We sup- 
 posed that when he got OTcr the little bill on the com- 
 
 mon he found it diDicult to maintiin his eqiilibriura, 
 and whenever he f.ll or siuin ded, that he turned oa 
 the casK, and belabored it with his fists, supposing it 
 to be a man who was throwing him down aud moeking 
 at him. 
 
 Wo afterwards learned that it was a parly of smug- 
 glers whom ho met who gave it to him. Brighton, 
 on the Sussex coast of England, has more smugglers 
 than any other seaport or town in the kingdom, of its 
 size. 
 
 Our friend Fred was sick and sore for more than a 
 month after this freak ; but it did not euro his mad- 
 ness. 
 
 A short time after the event just related, he received 
 some funds from home, and, as usual, obtained a few 
 days leave of absence. His favorites were on hand, of 
 course, to share the enjoyment, while the ' needful ' 
 lasted. During their absence, and while on the roll 
 about the city, they tspied one of our men carrying a 
 mask and costume to a hotel for one of our captains, 
 who that evening was to attend a masked ball. 
 They at once took the servant under their own es- 
 pecial keeping. He was used well ; in fact, so 
 well, that he became quite drunk, and forgot all 
 about his master. They kept him safe within doors, 
 until Fred returned from the ball, where he fig- 
 ured in full Turkish costume, and enjoyed the eve- 
 ning and the joke, much to his own liking, while 
 the captain had to cool himself at the hotel as best 
 he could. 
 
 As a matter of course, the tricks was found out. 
 the' servant dismissed, and a guard sent to bring 
 our hero and his friends back to barracks. They 
 were confined twenty-four hours, and then sent to 
 their duty. But the captain never forgave Fred, 
 for personating the Pacha for him at the masquer- 
 ade. 
 
 Fred had a most wonderful disposition. He had 
 a heart that could adapt itself to any fate. He 
 could fill a captain's post, or act as cook for a troop, 
 with equal composure. ' Sunshine and cloud,' he 
 would say, ' poor luck this time, the better the next." 
 Cheerfulness belongs to no one position in life, but is 
 oftener found to accompany haid work and moder- 
 ate diet, rather than lu.Kury and ease. As Dr. 
 Weighting would say, ' Not only gout, but melan- 
 choly, and ofientimes insanity, is produced by lazi- 
 ness and gluttony.' The same authority has de- 
 clared that the juries of inquests, in nine out of ten 
 cases, where sudden deaths are the subjects of in- 
 quiry, should be, ' Died from theefiects of late sup- 
 pers, too much beefsteak, and too much wine,' in- 
 stead of he usual rendering, ' Died from the visita- 
 tion of God.' 
 
 Fred, besides having % usual amount of the 
 cheerfulness which generally belongs to the soldier, 
 was something of a philosopher, for, when .things 
 were lowest with him, and the prospect of change 
 not at all encouraging, he would rub and polish the 
 harder, and make the buckles shine brighter, and 
 never would a boy whistle more earnestly while 
 passing a churchyard at night to keep away the 
 ghosts, than would friend Fred sing when it was 
 below low water mark with him, thus — 
 
 ' BcgoDC, dull care. I pritliee begoue from me, 
 Begone, dull care, for yoa and J can never agree' 
 After which he would strike his thigh with his hand. 
 This was a sure indication that some bright idea had 
 occurcd to him. Oii one of these occasions, he 
 laughed aloud. But no.hing would induce him to 
 explain the cause which produced the laugh. He 
 merely advised us to wait awhile. Soon he set. 
 down to his portfoli", and in a few minutes a letter! 
 was sent to iheoflice for ' franking." And in a fort- 
 ni"ht afterwards, a boy came to the barracks from 
 the mail coach office with a message, that a wheel- 
 b8rrow,made of good oak, had arrived, and awaited 
 his order. 
 
 He received the message with the same hearty 
 laugh which he indulged in before writing the let- 
 ter mentioned above. He got leave from evening' 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 283 
 
 stables, and with a few friends proceeded to the mail 
 coach oftice, ■»-hero, to their laughing gnze, was ex- 
 hibited a well made wheelbarrow of oak, nearly as 
 large as a cart. They were not long in iindimg a 
 purchaser for tl'e landlord of the hotel, on ascertain- 
 ing the fun of the thing, bought the article for thir- 
 ty shillings — about seven dollars — and, instead of 
 rolling the wheel-barrow, the worthies rolled them- 
 selves, and I scarcely ever remember during my sol- 
 diering, when a heartier laugh prevailed then when 
 the story of that wheel-barrow was explained. 
 
 Fred was out of funds, and had to depend upon 
 his wit to ' raise the wind.' He knew well, that if 
 he wrote to his sisters for money, they would re- 
 fuse him. So he wrote to them that he had broken 
 a government wheel-barrow, and that he would be 
 court-marshalled, if they did not send him one, 
 never for a moment imagining that they would send 
 him a wheel-barrow, but supposing they would 
 remit a few pounds to pay for it. They, however, 
 got a wheel-wright to make him one, and sent 
 it on the roof of the mail coach, prepaying the odd 
 passenger fare. I need hardly add, that the story 
 of the wheel-barrow went the rounds of every room 
 in the barracks, causii-g a hearty laugh every- 
 where. 
 
 At another time, the regiment was out at Pres- 
 ton, in Lancashire, to suppress railroad riots. We 
 had to go into quarters some five or six weeks. 
 This is always the case in towns where there are no 
 barracks, "or where the barracks are pre-occupied, 
 and as no women went with us, Vfe were at a loss 
 for a laundress. This difficulty, however, was soon 
 obviated by Fred's ingenuity. Quartered at the 
 ' Golden Cross ' a few evenings after our arrival, he 
 undertook to wash for himself, by using the ' Lan- 
 cashire dolly.' This useful and labor-saving ma- 
 chine, consists of two parts, a deep tub, like a 
 churn, to hold the water j and the clothes, with a 
 closely fitting cover, having on its inner side three 
 short legs, and on the upper side a handle or crank 
 for turning the cover, thereby moving and twisting 
 the clothes in the tub, thus performing the greater 
 part of the washing process, a little rinsing was all 
 that was needed to complete the job. 
 
 One of the female servants of the house, seeing 
 him at work, came to his assistance, saying that she 
 would do that part of it for him. Fred thanked 
 her, assuring her that she could not do his wash- 
 ing, for, said he, 'tis my turn to do the washing for 
 all the men, as they had to take it by turns when 
 away from home, and the soldiers' wives. This 
 rather astonished the lassie, who communicated the 
 hard case to the other women of the house, who re- 
 solved to come to his aid. 
 
 Fred received their offer of assistance with de- 
 light, not indeed so much for the pecuniary advan- 
 tage as the satisfaction of having perpetrated so 
 good a joke. He immediately entered into a con- 
 tract with them ; he was to do the hardest part of 
 the work with the ' dolly,' and they were to finish. 
 He further undertook to assist in making beds, 
 tending bar, or anything else in the range of his 
 capacity. When the clothes were dry he mangled 
 them, and then, with the precision of a laundress, 
 who knew the soldier's * inspection day,' had them 
 home to time. 
 
 When the men heard that he had procured the 
 services of a laundress, they were well pleased, and 
 the troop sergeant major readily paid over the 
 stipulated allowance — si.\pence per man — so that, 
 as we had forty men in the troop, Fred drew one 
 pound sterling per week, which he duly spent with 
 his friends, and although they wondered whence the 
 money came from, it was not until after our return 
 to Burnley that the joke was found out. 
 
 As I before stated, Fred filled almost every post 
 from private to captain. He lost the clerkship by 
 omitting to state the time on a furlough. He left 
 out the date,and the soldier taking advantage of the 
 
 omission, remained away until brought back for i 
 desertion. On his trial, the man produced the fur- 
 lough, and was acquitted — demanded full pay, and 
 got it — but Fred lost his post. 
 
 While at New Ross, in Ireland, he was broken 
 for taking eight men with him twice a week to the | 
 stag-hunts in the neighborhood, until the horses 
 were reduced to skin and bone. lie lost the post of 
 troop cook, for making away with the men's allow- 
 ance. Puddings were usually served twice a week ; 
 he furnished them but once ; but then he gave dou- 
 ble the number, though containing only the quantity 
 for one day. AVhen reported to the officer of the 
 day, he excused himself by saying that he had to 
 make two days' puddings in one. The men did not 
 deny the number, but protested against the Cjuan- 
 tity. When pressed to assign the cause for this de- 
 ficiency, he replied, ' Sir, I drowned the miller.' 
 The answer raised a laugh, but did not save the 
 post. The cook was dismissed. 
 
 His many freaks and tricks would fill a volume. 
 But there was nothing vicious in any of his eccen- 
 tricities. At length he received an insult from a 
 young snob of a lieutenant, which hurt his feelings. 
 He demanded, and received, his discharge, after be- 
 ing sixteen years in the service ; but his ruling pas- 
 sion for fun still swayed him. Before leaving he 
 sent an invitation to the young aristocrat, who had 
 offered him the indignity, to join him in a shooting 
 match, which was declined. However, Fred was 
 bound to have some satisfaction out of him. He 
 procured two hats, placed them on canes upright in 
 the ground, and each duly labelled, one for himself 
 and the other for his enemy. The latter he labelled 
 ' liar, coward, and poltroon.' Fred then took his 
 stand, and after passing a few balls through it, sent 
 the riddled hat, labelled as it was, to the lieutenant, 
 accompanied by a note, advising him to return to 
 his mother, and get his baby locks combed. 
 
 He returned home to his property and relations, 
 and by a prudent management of his estate overcame 
 his embarrassment, and now takes good care of him- 
 self, enjoys the respect and esteem of a large circle 
 of friends, is noted for his liberality and strong ad- 
 vocacy of the rights of the working classes. He re- 
 sides in or near the town of Stafi'ord, in England, 
 and leads a jolly life, as full of fun and frolic as 
 ever. 
 
 May his last days be as peaceful and as happy as 
 his life has been harmless and pleasant. 
 
 LWritten for the Miscellanv.] 
 C ATOCT I N . 
 
 BY ' R A N M O E E .' 
 
 PART VI. — THE EECEPTION. 
 
 It was long past midnight, as Vernon's watch re- 
 vealed, when closely examined by the expiring omni- 
 bus lamp. 
 
 It was as inky as Erebus or a printer's devil, for the 
 light we liad seen fitfully flashed out, and was sucked 
 in again by the chimney of Catoctiu Furnace, a mile 
 further on. There it burns every day and night, Sun- 
 day too, its mute tongue blazoning its doings. 
 
 But Cerberus was awake, and as 'no light from the 
 battlement burned,' from the attic, or anywljcro else, 
 his ' honest bark bayed deep mouthed — anything but 
 — ' welcome ' to the wayworn travellers. Tray, 
 Blanche and Sweetheart wakened 'wi' the din,' aud 
 rallied with ear-splitting melodies, fiercely forbidding a 
 nearer approach to the house. 
 
 What a contrast between the efficiency of the old 
 police, ever sober and -vigilant, and the cfficiousness of 
 the new police, when not drunk and asleep at their 
 posts. They must think them bed posts, or possibly 
 they suggest ideas of post horns and taverns. 
 
 But the new police can discriminate — they are hu- 
 man. They know when to expect kicks, and when 
 ci'ppers ; how to make a bone — the shrewd dogs — and 
 when to break a bone. 
 
 ' Disturb not their alumbers.' 
 
 We must fight off the old police now, and disturb 
 the slumbers of the Millers, who, as soon as a light is 
 produced, gather around it, fiuttiring as millers always 
 do, and answer, in chorus, to the hallooing of our par- 
 ty, by asking — 
 
 ' Who arc yov 1 What is the matter ? ' 
 
 It being inconvenient to convey so much information 
 at so late an hour, covered only with mountain mist 
 and dew, by way of extra wrapping (though ' heavy 
 wet ' and ' mountain dew ' is not calculated to impart 
 spiritual comlort) we desire them to come as far as the 
 gate, and receive the cxplanalian from ' friends.' 
 
 All this time the old ■police are springing their rat- 
 tles furiously ; Cerberus crazy to get at us. He's a 
 good chief of police, a ' most senseless and fit consta- 
 ble for the watch.' 
 
 The light comes in at the door, and the Millers fol- 
 low it, of course, and the light comes out again at the 
 door, which is shat behind it, and, shaded by a broad, 
 transparent hand, it advances, flickering, towards us ; 
 then the hand is withdrawn, and an honest, brown, 
 intelligent face presented ; two grey eyes look hospi- 
 tably inquiring, and a gentle voice calmly gives them 
 speech. 
 
 ' Well, neighbors, what is it 1 ' 
 
 ' Why, David, how do you do 1 Don't you know 
 me ■? 1 have brought our friends. Did n't you expect 
 us to-night 1 ' 
 
 ' I believe it's Doctor Whitehead 1 ' 
 
 ' Of course it is I Did n't your father get my letter 1 ' 
 
 ' No, sir, not a word from you. I've been to Lewis- 
 ton and the Furnace every day, expecting your answer. 
 Walk, in ladies. Don't mind the dogs. Get out you 
 brutes.' 
 
 ' How provoking,' grumbles Dr. Whitehead. 'La- 
 dies, allow me to present you Mr. David Miller, the 
 eldest son of our host. Gentlemen, get acquainted.' 
 
 And we were so instantly, for there was that in that 
 ingenuous countenance, as resistless and refreshing as 
 the fruition of its desire to the 'hart that pants after 
 the water brooks.' We don't often see such faces in 
 town, even on market days. 
 
 Nurse rubbed her eyes, and took np tenderly the 
 sleeping innocent, that had temporarily gone back to 
 Heaven. Little Ida wakes up cross, but cheers up 
 and laughs gaily, ascertaining we are ' there.' Band- 
 boxes, scarfs, bundles, sunshades, fans, baskets, carpet- 
 bags, and the rest of the plagues of Egypt, that travel- 
 lers havs had to take since— and before — the children 
 of Israel were led out of the ' house of bondage,' were 
 'gathered together in one great ' pile, like furniture at 
 a fire, and afterwards removed to a place of security. 
 
 And Cerberus was captured by David (new police- 
 men are captivated with ancient David's weapon a 
 
 sling), his collar fastened to the door of the dog house 
 and there be sat on his haunches, looking melancholy 
 morose, ferocious and distrustful, even dubious of his 
 master's judgment, until the whole contents of the om- 
 nibus, except the straw, the cushions, and the lamp 
 
 which had gone out of itself— were deposited in Catoc- 
 tin House. 
 
 His last expression, as 'the little candle threw its 
 beams ' upon his countenance, was decidedly misan- 
 thropic. 
 
 We were ushered into a great hall, neatly papered, 
 without m.atting or oil cloih, but scrupulously scrub- 
 bed, the solid oaken floor fairly glistening from the 
 physical force expended on it ; its dimensions, fifty 
 feet by fifteen. 
 
 A lard lamp, of a peculiar pattern, that I have never 
 seen outside of Maryland, nor at all until now, lighted 
 the way. The lamp was brittania, and in proportion 
 as you screwed down a button at the top, the wick 
 arose, the light increased, and, I suppose, the wicked 
 whose deeds arc darkness, thereby flee. 
 
 This barbarous, or classic, relic — it may bo cither 
 
 was placed out of the draught, behind the hall door. 
 The luggage was reckoned carefully, to sec that all 
 was safe. We democratically bade good night to the 
 driver — whose horsea were to aristocratically spend 
 the night in clover, like nnto the realization of their 
 
284 
 
 IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 dreams of horse heaven) and commended him to re- 
 pose on the ruithions of his o.unibus, where he had 
 coolly decided to sleep. 
 
 Then we followed old Mr. Miller, and David, 
 William Frederick, and Willy, and Mrs. WardcU, 
 (a married sister), Willy's mother, and Miss Mary, 
 (the representative of the mother of the family, who 
 was weakly — coughing very loudly in her room at 
 the moment — or she would have been along), and 
 Miss Sarah, and last, but by no maimer of means 
 the least, Miss I3eckie and Miss Carrie Miller, the 
 poetesses. 
 
 Well, tlie truth is, we were not e.tpected ; so the 
 children were deposited upon a temporary shake 
 down on the floor, where, it is presumed, they 
 relapsedin to pleasant visions of a land flowing 
 with milk and honey, not interrupted by ' the voice 
 of one crying in the wilderness.' 
 
 The voices of twenty. More than that had by 
 this time assembled, all directing or assisting John, 
 bis late master's body servant, as he called himself. 
 As, for some time now, his master had not needed 
 bis services particularly, thej were regarded as less 
 apt to be requisite in the graveyard than the corn- 
 field,for scaring off crows, whereat he was common- 
 ly employed. 
 
 At this moment he was transferring frag- 
 mentary bedsteads, headboards, footboards, and 
 sides heavy as sideboards,from a common ware-room 
 into tlie several separate apartments assigned us. 
 Then he set to screwing them up with much more 
 apparant satisfaction than he had exhibited when 
 his late kind old master was similarly suggestively 
 disposed of. When this was done, he staggered 
 successively into tive different rooms, each time un- 
 der the influence of a hair, shuck, or straw mattrass, 
 which he threw down as grandly as an Irish rebel 
 might lay down his arms, and as philosophically 
 contemplated the dust he had kicked up. Then off 
 he went, like Atlas, prepared to ' rise ' another 
 world. 
 
 "WTiat a time there was afterwards, not in arrang- 
 ing slats, for these were primitive couches, but in 
 passing the bed-cords from one to another, and 
 then tautly turning them around a wooden button, 
 making a lattice work like a child's string saw-mill, 
 then bearing down heavily on the first cord, draw- 
 ing up the slack, as it is cautiously ' paid out ' by 
 an assistant, and finally ' belaying it ' when the 
 hemp has done its best. Oh, it's easy to get the hang 
 of it. It was at that time. Barret's case had not 
 yet arisen. 
 
 The mattresses were hoisted upon this fret-work, 
 the beds made, John dismi.'ised with several shil- 
 lings, and a universal blessing, and we bade each 
 other a welcome good night. 
 
 ' To them that have shall be given.' I being the 
 only one with the cares of a family, the last feather 
 of the camel's burthen naturally falls to my share. 
 Mrs. Oranmore, or one of the children, had to be 
 taken sick, or 1 should have betaken myself thence, 
 convinced that I, Abon Hassan, fancied myself the 
 Caliph, that the door had been' left open, and evil 
 spirits had entered, that I had been eating ' Chang,' 
 in fact, that my luck was too good to be real. 
 
 Mrs. Oranmore was taken sick, and no misgiv- 
 ings of my identity arose. But a ministering angel 
 descended from the third story (by the staircase), 
 and a twin sister could not have bestowed more af- 
 fectionate attentions upon the patient than did her 
 friend — for whom, as in duty bound, we shall ever 
 pray. 
 
 At length she was easy, and peacefully sleep- 
 ing, as, doubtless, we are all by this time inclined, 
 especially the reader. Then re-echo our ' good 
 night !' as its sepulchral sound floats away through 
 the dim, empty corridors of the old mansion, and is 
 hushed in its vaults Uke Hamlet's ghost. ' Rest, 
 rest, perturbatc spirit '.' I will not trouble thee with 
 another word to-night. 
 
 Heturn of the Hibbrnia Engine Compant. — 
 The Hibtrnia beys arrived home Saturday night, 4th 
 inst., completely worn out, it is slated, with their 
 marchings and feus tings abroad. On their nnivid at 
 the Ki'n-in;;ioii depot they Were met by llic firemen ol 
 Philadolpliiii, and the streets in the vicinity were bril- 
 liant with torches, lanters, bonfires, &c. Immediately 
 on their arrival, a large and splendid wreath was pre- 
 sented tliem, in behalf of the ladies. The proces- 
 sion of firrmen was over a mile in length, and 
 the Fairniount Engine Company, which headed the 
 line, numbered over 200 men. As the procession 
 passed along, hells were rung, cannon fired, large 
 bonfires blazed in every corner, engine houses were il- 
 luminated, flags suspended across the streets, transpa- 
 rencies exhibited, large reficctors, similar to those used 
 on locomotives, glared, and the lanterns and devices 
 borne by the various companies are snid to have been 
 very beautiful. A salute of one huudred guns, fired 
 by Col. R. Murphy, greeted the Hibernians when they 
 reached their engine house. Their welcome home is 
 acknowledged to have never before been surpassed in 
 brilliancy. 
 
 Mean and un-Amebican. — We see by the papers 
 that some of the shoe manufacturer.s of Milford have 
 reduced the wages of their men. This is uncalled for, 
 and is without justifiable excuse, at a time when trade 
 is good, and the banks are running over with money. 
 None of your ficticious panics, gentlemen ; it wont do. 
 ' The laborer is worthy of his hire,' and, as the old 
 Jewish proverb had it, as well as being a passage 
 in the holy writ, ' Thou shalt not muzzle the ox which 
 treadeth the corn.' Winter is on us, and it is guilt to 
 take advantage of it. Remember that the producers 
 of your wealth arc entitled to your bounty, and ought 
 not to be crushed by your capital. We are glad that 
 there are some shoe manufacturers in Milford above 
 such despicable conduct. 
 
 protectorate of Corfu ; but it is clear to me that our 
 military possession is the only point of interest to 
 foreign states, and that they must be indifferent as 
 to the form under which we may find it best for the 
 interests of the Cortiotes to administer their civil 
 government. And it is obvious that if the southern 
 islands, (i. e. Cephalonia, Zante, Ithaca, Santa 
 Maura, and Ccrigo), which are widely removed 
 from Corfu in race, sentiment, and geographical 
 position, were given up to the kingdom of (Jrecce — 
 as those inlanders, from national feelings, desire — 
 they would still be under the joint guarantee of the 
 three protecting powers of Greece, and, consequently, 
 no more liable to fall into the hands of any other 
 state than the Greek Islands of the Archipelago now 
 are. 
 
 The London Daily News has received a communi- 
 cation from the Colonial Office, stating Ihaf the publi- 
 cations in that journal of two despatches from Sir J. 
 Young had been without the knowledge of Her Majes- 
 ty's government. The News, in reply, btates that the 
 documents were sent to it under cover of an official 
 envelope, with a request for their publication, by a person 
 communicating his name and address. On inquiry, 
 it was ascertained that the name and address wore 
 genuine. On being made aware that the despatches 
 had been published without tlic sanction of the govern- 
 ment, the News handed over to the Colonial Oflice 
 other important documents, which had at the lime 
 been placed in its hands for publication. 
 
 THE IONIAN ISLANDS. 
 
 A despatch from Sir John to Mr. Secretary La- 
 bouchere has been published, recommending the 
 abandonment of the British 'protectorate ' over cer- 
 tain of the Ionian Islands, and the retention of 
 others. The despatch says : — 
 
 'No doubt, by a very vigilant attention, by stand- 
 ing always on one's guard, by removing, as I have 
 endeavored to do, topics of disagreement, and 
 striving, as I hope you will think not without suc- 
 cess, to infuse somewhat of a calm and moderation 
 into the working parties, a luU may be produced, 
 under favorable circumstances ; but the impression 
 upon my mind is, that no permanent benefit to 
 England, or real satisfaction to the lonians, can 
 accrue. England is in a false position here, and the 
 islands are too widely separated,geographically, and 
 their interests too distinct, ever to form a homoge- 
 neous whole, under foreign auspices. 
 
 England could retire from the protection with a 
 "ood grace. I mean especially from the south- 
 ern islands, in which all the difficulties really 
 originate. With respect to one of them, Santa 
 Maura, it is not an island at all — it is a bit of the 
 continent. 
 
 As to Corfu, it could scarcely be given up 
 without bad faith, for its possession by Greece 
 would keep all Albania and Epirus in constant 
 agitation; but it ought to be held by England in 
 full sovereignty as a colony.and if so held, it would, 
 with its dependencies, form a most valuable and 
 beautiful possession. Corfu, as well as its satellite, 
 Paxo, more than pays aU its own expenses ; has, 
 indeed, a large surplus of revenue, though it is not 
 half peopled; more than half waste, undrained, and 
 neglected. In Corfu, and in it alone, of all the 
 other islands, there exists no desire to be separated 
 from England. 
 
 It may possibly be objected that the powers which 
 were parties to the treaties of 1815 would not con- 
 gent to our transformation into a sovereignty of our 
 
 FOREIGN INTELLIGENCE. 
 
 IIIELAND. 
 
 It will be perceived from the subjoined that Mr. 
 Lever is working indefatigably for his great project, 
 and that, as usual, success follows energy. The 
 European mails will eventually find their way to Ame- 
 rica through Galway, which is the only natural route. 
 Of course passengers will follow mails, and general 
 commercial intercourse must be the result. The cor- 
 respondent of the Globe writes : — ' What is now going 
 on at Paris in one department of the executive is 
 intensely interesting to the west of Ireland, and the 
 venerable ' city of the Tribes.' Galway is now about 
 to be adopted by France as the outlet of her postal 
 communication with North America, and a large im- 
 perial subsidy will supply sinews of war to the Lever 
 line, the future predominance of which is now placed 
 beyond a doubt. As all the correspendence of the 
 Spanish and Italian Peninsulas, and of the Levant, 
 passes through France, the various ramifications or re- 
 ticulations ot this immense network will be gathered 
 into one. The ' Havre to New York' line resigns its 
 claims to the French postal contract and government 
 support, in favor of the Hiberno-American transit, a 
 sacrifice which national pride would never make to a 
 Liverpool company. The details of this financial 
 measure are not all arranged, but the principle is es- 
 tablished. Mr. Lever's activity has carried the point ; 
 he gets a personal interview with Napoleon III on his 
 return from Compeigne. Meantime, he lias gone to 
 Brussels in involve Belgium in the scheme, leaving 
 Mr. Barry to carry out his objects here.' 
 
 A private investigiiion was held by the magistrates 
 of Macroom Petty Sessions, on Wednesday, November 
 10th, into charges prefeired against a young man named 
 Ilioidan, the son of a publican, of being a member of 
 an illegal organization called the ' Phoenix Club,' 
 which has ot late attracted some share of public atten- 
 tion. A reporter from a paper, who attended the 
 sessions, applied for leave % be present at the invesfiga- 
 tion, but was refused by the magistrates, on the ground 
 that it was necessary that the nature of the proceedings 
 should not be publicly known at present. We under- 
 stand that informations have been ordered but have 
 not ascertained what is the nature of the allegations 
 against the prisoner. — [Cork Examiner. 
 
 A few days ago, at Enniscorthy, a woman named 
 Mary Doyle had very comfortably papered her little 
 bedroom, and when going to bed was foolish enough 
 to introduce the room a metal pot, containing turf 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 285 
 
 coals of tiio. In the morning it was found that she 
 was not up as oarly«'* was usual with her. A ncighlior 
 of hers rapped several times, hut (getting no answer 
 hurst in the door, and found the poor old woman l.vinf,' 
 dead, by the side of her hed. An imiucst was heUl 
 on Monday when a verdiet was found ' that she died 
 fro.u suffocation, a<ei lentally caused b y having intro- 
 duced a pot of fire inio the room for the purpose of 
 drying; the paper.' — [Wexford People. 
 
 Notice to Qcit. — The general practice at pre- 
 sent is to fi.x the rent too high. The landlord allows 
 arrears to stand over and aecumiilate. There is a 
 tacit understanding that these arrears are not to be 
 called for, but the landlord retains his legal right, 
 and by this means he always keeps the tenant under 
 pressure — often under gross oppression. On nu- 
 merous estates every yearly tenant — and leases are 
 still too much a novelty in Ireland — is regularly 
 served every year with a notice to quit, whether 
 cause may have arisen or not, so that he may be at 
 any time turned out should he fail to conform in all 
 things to the will of his landlord or of the agent. 
 That is not a wholesome condition of things, not- 
 withstanding what the admirers of territorial autho- 
 rity may think, and until it is remodelled, and the 
 tenant be enabled to hold a position of some inde- 
 pendence and self-respect, Ireland cannot perma- 
 nently improve. — [Star, 
 
 Application having been made by the O'Connell 
 family for power to have mass again celebrated in 
 the private chapel of Darrynane, which had lapsed 
 since the death of the Liberator, his Holiness has 
 been pleased most graciously to accord the privi- 
 lege. The following extract is from the letter of 
 the Rev. Dr. Kirby, President of the Irish College, 
 Rome, to Mr. Morgan O'Connell, communicating 
 the grant of this high favor :— 'I need not say that 
 I feel the greatest pleasure in having it in my power 
 to further your pious intentions, and to enable the 
 family of your venerated father again to have the 
 consolation of assisting at the adorable sacrifice of 
 the altar, in the same chapel where he so often 
 knelt, and in which he so often nourished with 
 the bread of angels that sacred fire of Catholic zeal, 
 which enabled him to emancipate his Catholic 
 countrymen, and vindicate with so much success 
 the rights of our holy religion.' 
 
 A meeting composed of gentlemen of wealth and 
 respectability was held in Smith's Hotel, Kilrush, 
 on the 9th inst.. Colonel Crofion Moore Vandeleur 
 in the chair, for the purpose of promoting the con- 
 struction of a railway line between Kilrush and 
 Kilkee. A large number of shares were taken on 
 the spot, and almost every one present became a 
 shareholder to a considerable amount. The share 
 list remains at the office of Mr. Michael McDonnell, 
 who was appointed secretary. The express convic- 
 tion of the meeting was that the line would be a 
 prosperous one, and would well remunerate those 
 taking shares in it. — [Munster News. 
 
 The humane project of a reformatory for Limer- 
 ick, promoted by Henry Shea, with characteristic 
 earnestness, is prospering as it deserves. The Lim- 
 erick papers publish a respectable list of subscrip- 
 tions, at the head of which stands the name of 
 Robert Tighe, Esq., chairman of the county, for 
 £100, followed by that of the Earl of Clare for £.50, 
 the next being that of Lord Dunravrn for £20. 
 
 Mr. John Orrell Lever, the founder of the Atlan- 
 tic Royal Mail Steam Navigation Company, had an 
 interview with M. Masin, the Belgian Minister of 
 the Interior, and director of telegraphs and rail- 
 ways. Mr. Lever was introduced by Lord Ifoward 
 de Walden, the British Minister at Brussels. 
 
 It is said that the last Australian mail, whiths wa 
 delivered in Dublin on Sunday last, contained the 
 almost incredible number of 1,100 registered money 
 letters was transmitted by emigrants to relatives and 
 riends in the old country. 
 
 Mil. J. Macnamara Cantwell has been appointed 
 solicitor for the Atlantic Steam Navigation Com- 
 pany (Galway line) in Ireland. 
 
 INDIA. 
 
 The Times special correspondent says: — 'The 
 10th Punjaub Infantry are reported to have marched 
 off with all their arms for Dsra Ismael Khan, in the 
 hope of inducing some of their countrymen to join 
 in an insurrectionary movement. Should this be 
 an insoUued instance of disafi'ection on the part of 
 many Sikh battalions in our pay, arising from some 
 sudden pique or the influence of evil counsels, there 
 is little to fear. If it should be an overt act oi a 
 great conspiracy — Vhich appears to be most im- 
 probable — it is impossible to exaggerate the danger. 
 Our empire in India is, indeed, in a desperate case 
 should the Sikhs, who are now fighting our battles 
 in every district where an enemy to our rule can be 
 found, turn traitors ere the mass of the reinforce- 
 ments from England can reach us. There is 
 reason to believe that mischief has been brewing at 
 Dera Ismael Khan since the discovery of the plot 
 which occasioned such excitement in the north- 
 western provinces a few weeks ago. It would 
 appear as if Brigadier Chamberlain's investigations 
 into the origin of this plot had led him to the know- 
 ledge of acts which he considered of a dangerous 
 character, for it is only within the last few days that 
 a column, consisting of Blount's troop of Horse 
 Artillery, a wing of the 7th Fusileer's, a squadron 
 of the 7th Dragoon Guards, and 300 Sikh infantry, 
 marched from Lahore to strengthen the place, which 
 is mainly important because it commands the 
 Indus (on the right bank of which it is situated), 
 and, further, that it contains the magazine of the 
 whole of the Punjaub Irregular Force. It is re- 
 membered that those fierce warriors even at Delhi 
 were fond of recalling the stories of the great battles 
 in which they in vain sought to dertroy the supre- 
 macy of our arms, and that they were, in rude 
 jocosity, wont to say — 'We fought against you ten 
 years ago and you beat us; now we are fighting for 
 you; in ten years, more or less, we may once more 
 be fighting against you.' During the late campaign 
 they fought side by side with our best troops, and 
 the Sikhs in our service cannot be less now than 
 80,000 horse and foot. I am told that an occurrence 
 at Umballa the other day gave great offence to those 
 irascrible warriors. The Rajah of Putteala's wife 
 presented him with a son, on which there were great 
 rejoicings, and the sounds of the salute fired on the 
 occasion alarmed the officer on duty at Umballa, 
 who thought that the Sikhs had risen, and in that 
 belief turned out the European guard, inarched 
 them to the posts occupied by detachments of a 
 Punjabee regiment, and forced them to deliver up 
 their arms. At the moment I write, a telegraphic 
 despatch has been received by one of my compan- 
 ions. Colonel Tombs, dated Meerut, September 26, 
 informing him that half of his troops has been 
 ordered to Delhi, and required him to go down to 
 Meerut without a moment's delay. The 9th Lan- 
 cers are on their way from Umballa down country, 
 and their presence will probably insure the safety 
 of the main trunk road for the time.' 
 
 TuE last intelligence from India, notwithstanding 
 the usual amount of guns taken and natives slain, 
 or despatched in one way or the other, contains 
 some very alarming items — not the least alarming 
 of which is the disafi'ection which has broken out 
 among the Sikhs. There have been rumors of in- 
 subordination amonst them for some time past, but 
 nothing definite was made known. At length, 
 however, the disaffection seems to be assuming the 
 appearance of a gencrul insurrection. Should this 
 extend, the Indian Empire may, indeed, be consid- 
 ered in jeopardy, as almost the only natives that are 
 now employed in concert with the. British army are 
 Sikhs. But there is, in fact, throughout the coun- 
 try an unmitigated hatred of British rule, and a 
 
 spirit of disorganization and revolt which threatens 
 to be seriously troublesome and difficult of suppres- 
 sion. So far, then, from the back of the insurrec- 
 tion being broken, we are beginning to think it is 
 gaining more strength and vigor daily. The whole 
 truth is evidently not told, but the Indian govern- 
 ment will find it difficult to keep it concealed much 
 longer, and there is a good reason for believing that 
 by far the worst part of the intelligence has been 
 withheld. But this suppression cannot last long, 
 and we should not be much surprised if very dis- 
 astrous news were to reach us when we least expect 
 it. At all avents, the aspect of matters, even as 
 they stand now, is by no means encouraging. — 
 [Dublin Telegraph. 
 
 MISCELLANEOUS. 
 
 An astonishing act of fanatical vandalism is record- 
 ed In the Church of All Souls, Langham place, Lon- 
 don , was a very fine picture of great value, ' Jesus 
 Crowned with Thorns.' Some naturally weak minded 
 person, made mad by exess of religious puritanism, 
 secreted himself in the church, and dunng the night 
 cut up into shreds and completely destroyed the picture. 
 It is known that this must have been the motive for the 
 outrage, for the letters ' I H S' were also cut out 
 of the front of the cloth covering the communion table. 
 
 The Times says according to a statement from Ma- 
 drid, the Spanish government are likely to order their 
 fieet to Cuba, to demand satisfaction of Mexico in the 
 matter of dispute between the countries. The French 
 government, who are likewise reported to have sent 
 additional ships of war to that point, is relied upon ia 
 this movement, while it is also known that England 
 has serious demands to urge, which will cause her to- 
 insist upon redrees at least equal to that which may be 
 accorded in other cases. 
 
 The Emperor Napoleon h£is returned the compli- 
 ment recently paid him by Queen Victoria, and has 
 forwarded to Her Majesty a 12-pounder howitzer, in- 
 vented by himself, accompanied by the complete har- 
 ness for six horses. The piece bears the name of the 
 alliance. It is inscribed in French, ' To Queen Victo- 
 ria, from the Emperor Napoleon,' with the arms of 
 England and the imperial cypher. The Duke of Mala- 
 koff is to make the presentation. 
 
 Details have been received by telegraph from Mar- 
 seilles of the taking of Tourane. The gun-boats des- 
 troyed five forts in half an hour. The allied troops 
 occupied the town, and had despatched reconnoitering 
 parties into the Peninsula. Tourane has been declared 
 French territory. The expedition will advance to at- 
 tack the metropolis at the end of September. — [Lon- 
 don Times. 
 
 Prince Napoleon, in proposing to the Emperor the 
 nomination of four persons belonging to the Jewish 
 relegion as members of Councils General in Algeria, 
 said — ' The measure proposed is in conformity with 
 our principles of religious toleration, and in conse- 
 quence of the numerous modes of worship performed 
 in Algeria it is useful and opportune to manifest by an 
 act of you"- government that in the dye of our laws all 
 creeds are absolutely and completely equal.' 
 
 Accounts from Cadiz state that a second portion of 
 the reinforcements for Cuba were ready to sail at a 
 moments notice for completing the expedition. A 
 force of 2,100 infantry, 8,500 marines, and seven steam 
 vessels of war, were prepared of the maritime expedi- 
 tion; against the Rirt' pirates on the coast of Africa. 
 
 The Liverpool select vestry on Tuesday week agreed 
 to a resolution which will permit lady visitors to call 
 and converse with tlie inmates of the workhouse. An 
 ineffectual effort was made by the Catholic members 
 to extend the poruiissfon to the Sister of Mercy and 
 Sisters of Charity. 
 
 An Englishman in Paris becoming enamoured of the 
 the beverage sold in thai city under the name of punch 
 Grussot, ordered 12 hollies to be sent to his ad.lress in 
 London. The cost of the nectar in Paris was 12fa 
 gallon, and to his astonishment he had ta pay 20a u 
 gallon as duty. 
 
286 
 
 IRISH MlSCELLAmr. 
 
 COUNT MONTALEMBERT'S OPINIONS ON 
 
 ENOLAND. 
 
 The publislior of I.e C'orrospiindant, a French ^^ jy^g ,(g hj.f government can withhold it from the 
 journal, is about being prosecuted for publishing i people. )Ic has made France respected at home 
 the opinions of Count Montalembcrt, an eminent j^d abroad; raised her military glory to the highest 
 French Catholic, on the conduct of the English in ] point; given her name a prestige which it had not 
 India, as well as at home, in wliich he deals severely I ..„joytd before since the battle of Austerlilz, cxtend- 
 with the Emperor of France and his government. , pj ),„ commerce; increased her manufactures; made 
 Some persons say the prosecution will be followed ),pr agriculiure prosperous; exalted religion; and, 
 up. But it is not on this part of the question we n,ore valuable than all, especially to an Irishman, 
 desire to make any remarks, but on the silly, un- displayed to the world the hoUowncss of the mili- 
 ■wise, and unstatcsmanlikc views of the Count on jury power of England, 
 the foreign and domestic policy of England, lie Now, we ask, was Count Montalembert justified 
 
 ; French people universal suBrage, a privilege which ] for a moment the clumsy and cruel rule of England, 
 England has not conceded, and will never concede I and dcprecnle the government of great and gallant 
 
 looks on England as the home of liberiy, and says 
 that her public press, her people, and her institu- 
 
 in comporing the deeds of the English government 
 with those of this great man ? ^Vas it wise in him. 
 
 lions, are free and unfettered; and, in fact, that her ;„ order to gratify his spleen against the Emperor, 
 toleration of Catholics, and her indulgence of free , [q talk as he did of England and English institu- 
 
 discussion, render her the home of freedom and an 
 example to the world. 
 
 llow a man of such eminent character as Count 
 
 tions '. Was it creditable in him to sink the fame and 
 glory of great, libenil, and Cailiolic France beueaili the 
 fame of bigoted and lutolerant England ! Let him, if 
 
 Montalembert could come to such conclusions is , de wishes to see England and her mode of governing, 
 quite unaccountable, unless we take into considera- come to Ireland or start for America, and tben proceed 
 tion that he wishes, by the arguments he uses, to to India. He will find in this country the marks of her 
 annoy and damage the Emperor of France. That intolerant rule. Ho will see the island strewn with the 
 this was his object in writing as he has done, there i ruins of our religious establishments, which were 
 can be no doubt whatever, because he must observe, levelled with the earth by English barbarity. He will 
 as many others do, that the whole public policy of: see a population, the rightful owners of the country, 
 England is a gigantic fraud, and that she is not what 1 reduced lO iho lowest condition of any people in the 
 
 France. — [Dundalk Democrat. 
 
 6he seems; but, on the contrary, a cheat and a hy- 
 pocrite. 
 
 Any man, in making a comparison between the 
 government of England and that of France, must 
 take a fair and impartial view of the state of parties 
 in both nations. And if he does so. he will at once 
 see that the system of government ptlrsued in one 
 country would not, by any means, suit the other. 
 The English system would not answer in France; 
 the French system would not now be endured in Eng- 
 land, liut it was endured, when England had more 
 than one party claiming the crown. 
 
 In judging of the governments of both nations, 
 this particular point must be kept closely in view. 
 At present there is no claimant for the English 
 crown but the lady who wears it, and therefore 
 liberty of the press is allowed. But would that be 
 the case if one of the Stuarts were living in France, 
 and that he had a party in England conspiring 
 against Queen Victoria r We may be certain that 
 it would not. Then there would be no public 
 meetings tolerated, and the press would be gagged, 
 as the Irish press was in 'i)ii and '48, and not per- 
 mitted to utter a word on behalf of the Pretender, 
 cr against the ' crown and dignity ' of the present 
 Queen. 
 
 Now this imaginary state of things, as regards 
 England, is a reality in France. In that country 
 there are three or four parties claiming the upper 
 hand, and the one that is uppermost is sure to tind 
 the other parties conspiring against it. In our own 
 
 Avorld. He will observe a Catholic nation compelled 
 at the point of the bayonet, to support a church estab- 
 ment whose creed it repudiates. He can be shown the 
 graves of a million of human beings who were slain 
 by a famine which the English government could have 
 averted, but would not. He can be shown the rums 
 of nearly half a million houses and collages which 
 Were cast down by landlord power, afier their occupants 
 were banished to other countries. And we can tell 
 him of the massacres of '98, of the gagging of the public 
 press, of the packing of juries, of the hangings, trans- 
 portations, whipping at carts' tails, and the passing of 
 insurrection acts, and, to this day, of crime and outrage 
 acts; all to crush down and hold in servitude a people 
 who are the worst treated in the world. 
 
 In America, he will tind how Enghsh govern- 
 ments acted there, and the tyrannies they practiced till 
 a brave people rose up and endured a seven years' war 
 rather ihan tolerate such cruellies. And in India, he 
 will hear of wholesale plunder of nations; and of deeds 
 in the shape of government which will only be tuUy 
 known on the great accounting day. 
 
 Nay, in England itself, he will learn what her asristo- 
 cratic government is. It was the aristocracy of Eng- 
 land who dealt largest in the sons of Africa ; but now, 
 foresooth, they arc the enemies of slavery, when the 
 nation paid them X2U,000,000 to let their slaves go 
 free. And when the people, in 1819, met at Peterloo, 
 near Manchester, to demand redress, they were tired 
 upon and slauglitered in cold blood. 
 
 But why pursue this subject further. It must be 
 evident to every impartial observer that there is a far 
 
 times we have seen the eflccts of the struggles of , |,(.tter government in Fiance than in these countries. 
 each. Charles X., one of the elder branch of the , jn these islandswu have nothing but despots and slaves. 
 Bourbons, was hurled from the throne in 1830, and \ rj.^^ aristocrats have the land, and they and the mil- 
 Louis Philippe, one of the younger branch, crowned 1 ij^^^fies work the poor farmers and laborers wiih 
 in his place. In '18, the Republicans and Bonapar- | ^g^g severity than the brute, and tax them in such a 
 lists conspiied against him, and he had to fly into ; manner that they are kept in a position, through pen- 
 exile. The republicans were then in the ascendant; i y^_ ^^^ joil, of a broken-hearted community, 
 but they did not use their opportunity with wisdom j j^ prancc it is quite otherwise. There we find few 
 
 or discretion, and they fell before the admirers of 
 the empire, and their cabals and divisions raised 
 Napoleon III. to the throne of his uncle. He re- 
 duced chaos to order; but no sooner had he done 
 80, than the other parties commenced their conspi- 
 Tacies against him. 
 
 having great wealth, and fewer still suft'ering from 
 poverty. The people have the land, and arc lightly 
 taxed, and if they cannot boast of great wealth they can 
 display a stale of ease and comfort in all quarters not 
 to be found in England. If famine threatens them, 
 the Emperor, like a father, exerts himself to give 
 
 Now, in his present position, what is he to do ? j them cheap food ; and.inundaiious destroy their crops. 
 Should he give the public press free license, the he goes amongst ihem to allleviate their condition. It 
 newspapers of his enemies would inflame the public is not so in England. Men have died in thousands, 
 mind against him, and it is probable that he would under her U..g. from a famine which she could have 
 
 be driven again into exile. If he is a despot, he is 
 one from necessity. But he has done great things 
 for France and for Europe. He has given the 
 
 stopped, but she would not. 
 
 This, then, is the state of both nations ; and must 
 not Coant Montalembert be an nnwise man to praise 
 
 VARIOUS ITEMS. 
 
 The other day an old lady rushed into the garden 
 in search of her daughter, on being told that the 
 young lady walked out with a rake. 
 
 A coQt'ETTE treats a lover like a boquct — carries 
 him about a ':ertain time for amusement or show, 
 and then quietly picks him to pieces. 
 
 A BASUFVL printer refused a situation in a print- 
 ing office where females were employed, saying he 
 never ' set up ' with girls in his life. . 
 
 When the wnlf turns moralist, always look to 
 your lambs. 
 
 ' What makes you spend your time so freely, 
 Jack ?' ' Because it's the only thing that 1 have to 
 spend.' 
 
 A LiEi'TENANT in the army, named Broom, was 
 advanced to a captaincy, and naturally enough liked 
 to hear himself addressed as Captain Broom. One 
 of his friends persisted in calling hira plain Broom, 
 much to his annoyance, and one day, having done 
 so for the fortieth time, Broom said, . ' You will 
 please remember, sir, that I have a handle to my 
 name.' 'Ah,' said his tormentor, 'so you have ; 
 well, Broomhandlc, how are ye :' 
 
 Those who write and speak best upon spirituous 
 liquors are most generally those who are fullest of 
 their subject. 
 
 'Wood is the thing after all,' as the man with a 
 wooden leg said when the mad dog bit it. 
 
 ' My native country has treated me badly,' said a 
 drunken vagabond, ' but I love her still.' ' Proba- 
 bly,' replied a gentleman, 'her 'still' is all that 
 jou do love.' 
 
 L.^DiES who array themselves in patent hoops 
 should sing, as they dress, ' Still so gently o'er me 
 steeling.' 
 
 Gold ^s an idol, worshipped in all climates with- 
 out a single temple, and by all classes without a 
 single hypocrite. 
 
 How can five persons divide five eggs, so that each 
 shall receive one, and still one remain in the dish ? 
 One takes the dish with the egg. 
 
 'Doctor, what do you think is the cause of this 
 frequent rush of blood to my head ?' ' Oh, it is 
 nothing but an effort of Nature. Nature, you know, 
 abhors a vacuum.' 
 
 GAnDEXiNO FOB Ladies. — Make up your beds 
 early in the morning ; sew buttons on your hus- 
 band's shirt ; do not rake up any grievance ; pro- 
 tect the young and tender branches of your family ; 
 plant a smile of good temper in your face,and care- 
 fully root out all angry feelings, and expect a good 
 crop of happiness. 
 
 Cause and Effect. — Amost conclusive reason for 
 an efl'ect was given by a one-idea'd Dutchman, in re- 
 ply to a friend, who remarked — ' Why, Hans, yon 
 have the most feminine countenance I have ever seen.' 
 ' O, yar,' was the reply. ' I know de reason for dat ; 
 mine moder was a woman. 
 
 ' Sin,' said a burly fellow, of no enviable charac- 
 ter, ' I have the largest neck of any man in the city.' 
 ■ Very likely,' said his neighbor, ' and I saw, yes- 
 terday, the largest rope in the city. Put that and 
 that together." 
 
 An ariist who had been employed to construct an 
 angel for the spire of a church in a neighboring town, 
 finished the work with a pair of shoes on. Some 
 one undertook to point out the error to him, and 
 asked, ' Who ever saw an angel with brogues on ?' 
 The artist regarded the work for a moment whh 
 an air of monilieaiion, but recovering himself, re- 
 joiced, ' You may be right, but who ever saw one 
 without V 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 287' 
 
 A D V ERTISEMENTS 
 
 MERCANTILE AND WRITING SCHOOL, 
 
 E. J. GLEESON, Masthu. 
 
 Tliis School is now opened at No. 23 roRTLAHD Street, 
 a lew doors south of Dooley's Exolmnge Hotel, where a 
 select and limited number of the Youth of both texcs will 
 be admitted; time from 9 A. M. to 12 U., audfrom2r. M 
 
 to 5 P. M. 
 
 TERMS nrODERATE. 
 
 EVENING SCHOOL! 
 
 This school will be opened in the snme place on the first 
 erening of next month, where adults and those of riper 
 years, will be carefully and assiduously instructed in the 
 various branclKsot learning-, suitable to their calling. 
 
 BOOK-KEEriNG : 
 
 Mr. Gleeson ventures to say, and pledges himself without 
 hesitation, that he will qualify young gentlemen for the 
 Counting Room, in half the time that is consumed in simi- 
 lar institutions in this city, and at considerable less ex- 
 pense. 
 
 August 17th, 185S; aug28 
 
 FINE READY M.iDE CLOTHING 
 
 speing oveecoats. 
 
 business coats, 
 
 frock: aj>jd dkess coats, 
 
 tants and vests, 
 
 Good, Stylish, Well Made Gakments, 
 
 Such as men of taste and good judgment will wear, can at 
 
 all times be found at our store. 
 
 Our aim is to produce for our customers the best Ready 
 
 Made Garments at the lowest posslblb prices por 
 
 CASH. 
 
 Keaders of this Journal are earnestly solicited to exam- 
 ine our goods before purchasing. 
 
 J W. SMITH & CO., 
 
 Dock Square, corker Elm Street. 
 my 11 tf 
 
 SOUTH END CATHOLIC BOOK STORE, 
 
 And Depot for the Sale of the 
 METROPOLITAN AND YOUTHS' RLAGAZINES. 
 
 WILLIAM KEATING, Agent, 
 
 8 1-2 Harrison Avenue, or at his New Periodical Store, 176 
 
 Harrison Avenue, Boston, Mass., 
 
 Wbere a great variety of the most popular Books and 
 
 Papers cam be had at the very lowest prices, 
 
 WILL supply Clubs, Agents, Canvassers, &c.. on the 
 same terms as the Publishers. The following are 
 the terms— 3 copies will be sent by mail, to one address, for 
 one year So ; 6 copies for SIO ; 13 copies for S20 ; 20 copies 
 for S30. 
 
 DCP- On the receipt of S3, three copies of the Catholic 
 Youth's Magazine and one copy of the Metropolitan will 
 be mailed regularly ior one year. 
 
 or?" A few sets of the Magazines from the beginning, can 
 be had of the Agent. Also, all new books furnished as 
 Boon as published. ap24 3mo6 
 
 ADVERTISEMENTS. 
 
 TURKEY SALVE 
 
 HEALS ULCER.VIED SORES, FELONS, 
 Burns, Wiiitlow, Palm Abscis, skin or water Scrofu- 
 la, Ulcerated Sore Legs, Bruises, Chapped Hands, Ulcers in 
 the Neck, Scald Head in Children, Frosted Feet, Sore Nose, 
 Boils, Bleeding Piles, Ulcerated Sore Breast, Sore Nipple.-?, 
 Inflamed Breasts made to supperate in twelve hours, with- 
 out a resort to the ' knife.' Tiiere is no Salve before the 
 public so powerful as this, being entirely made from the 
 strongest herbs, roots and barks. It can be reduced so as 
 to be applied to a child one week old, or be made strong 
 enough to dress an ulcer every half hour, even after morti- 
 fication sets in. so that this salve will do more good in one 
 day than all others in one week. 
 
 N. B.— I give my entire attention to healing Ulcerated 
 Sores, and warrant perfect cure, failing in which I make no 
 charge. My motto is, 'No cure no pay.' Charges moder- 
 ate. 
 
 d41m 
 
 FRANCIS F. SPRING. 
 
 IS High street, Boston. 
 
 DtJ'KOUKKE, respectfully informs his friends and the 
 , public, that he keeps constantly on hand COl'FIN.S 
 of all sizes and kinds, at hi." Collin 'Manufactory, No. 317 
 Federal, between Beach and Kneeland Streets, Boston, 
 which he will sell as reasonable as can be bought at any oth- 
 erjplace in the city. 
 
 N. B. — Orders punctually attended to, day or night. 
 
 Kesidence, No. 28 South street, Boston. 
 
 in7*Grave-Clothes furnished to order at short notioo. 
 
 febl3 
 
 OLD COLONY HOUSE. 
 
 PATRICK HOLLY begs leave to announce to his pat- 
 rons and the public gencrully that he has coustanlly 
 on hand at his old and well-known stand, 
 
 THE OLD COLONY HOUSE, 
 
 CORNER OF KNEELAND AND SOUTH STREETS, 
 
 A choice assortment op 
 
 BRANDIES, AVINES, SCOTCH & IRISH 
 
 WHISKEY, CIGARS, S:c. &c., 
 
 all of the very first quality, which can be obtained too at 
 
 LOWER RATES 
 
 than elsewhere in the market; in proof of which he invites 
 purchasers to give him a call. aug 28 
 
 NORTHERN HOUSE, 
 
 NORTH BQDARK— BOSTON. 
 
 JOHN GLANCY Pkoprietor. 
 
 This House has rooms equal to any first class Hotel, and 
 permanent or transient Boarders can he accommodated 
 nearly one half cheaper than at any other House in the 
 City. 
 
 In the Reading Room can be found all the morning and 
 evening papers, and periodicals of the day, together with 
 an extensive Librakt, for the free and exclusive use ol 
 the Boarders. 
 
 N. B. Strangers visiting Boston, can always find this 
 House a Home. 
 
 J. & R. MURPHY, 
 
 MASTIPACTUKEES OP 
 
 SURGICAL AND DENTAL INSTRUMENTS- 
 CUTLERY, 
 
 AND STEEL WORK OF EVERY KIND, 
 No. 3 HARVARD PLACE, (opposite the Old South,) 
 
 BOSTON, Mass. 
 [13="Cutlery and Instruments of all kinds Repaired, 
 ly ■ aug2S 
 
 GENERAL TICKET OFPICE 
 
 — por THE — 
 
 SOUTHERN AND WESTERN STATES 
 THE CAJS'ADAS, 
 
 No. 2 AiBANT StEEET, BOSTOIf. 
 
 ED-SVAED EYAN, Agent. 
 
 N. B.— Passage to and from Liverpool, and Bills of Ex- 
 change on England, Ireland and Scotland. 
 
 ap24 ly 
 
 ADVERTISEMENTS. 
 
 FRANCIS GODFREY, 
 
 IMPORTER AND RESTORER OF 
 
 ITALIAN PAiNTiNGS, ' 
 
 AND MANUFACTURER OF GILT FRAMES, 
 
 12 Ekanklin Steeet, Boston. 
 ![y Engravings, Lithographs, Crayons, &o., on sale. 
 8m aug28 
 
 CATHOLIC B.OOK STORE. 
 
 WILLIAM HICKEY, Catholic Bookseller, and Agent 
 for the Extensive Publishing House of D. & J. 
 Sadliek & Co., of New York. 
 The latest and most varied stock of Religious Prints, 
 MISSALS, PRAYER BOOKS, CROSSES, 
 and all the Current Literature, constantly on hand. 
 
 No. 128 Federal (corxer of Williams) street, 
 BOSTON, MASS. 
 
 P . MORRIS, 
 
 APOTHECARY, 
 
 Corner of Federal and Purchase streets, foot of Summer 
 
 street, Boston. 
 
 STRICT personal attention paid to compounding Physi 
 cian's Prescriptions. A choice seleclion of Family 
 Medicines constantly on hand. A well selected stock of 
 genuine imported Perfumery and Fancy (joods. Soda 
 Water with choice Syrups. A large assortment of genuine 
 Havana Segars constantly on hand. ap5 
 
 THE IRISH VINDICATOR. 
 
 A WEEKLY NEWSPAPER, 
 
 The Best and Cheapest Published in Auerioa. 
 
 T 
 
 nis splendid Taper, which is little overnine months 
 n existeuce, has met with the 
 Mv- WONDERFUL SUCCESS, 
 
 and lias been proiwunc^d by the Tress and the Tublic to be 
 superior to any othei Irish Weekly in the United States. 
 
 It contains each week, the very 
 
 Latest Newb from every Countv in Ireland ; 
 
 Original and entertaining 
 
 STORIES AND ANECDOTES, 
 
 and a variety of Miscellaneous Reading matter, of a charac- 
 ter which cannot fail to elevate and chayten the intel- 
 lectual appetite. The Irish Vindicator ia devoted 
 
 TO THE INTERESTS OF IRISHMEN IN AMERICA, 
 and is so cheap as to be within the reach of the poorest. 
 
 ONLY THREE CENTS A COPY. 
 
 THE FOLLOWING ARE THE TERMS 
 
 To any part of the United States, for one year, ffil.BO 
 
 Do. do. ,do. forJJ monthH, 1.00 
 
 Do. do. do. for 4 months, 0.50 
 
 Do. do. do. fori month, 0.12 
 
 To any part of Canada or the British Trovinces, one year 
 
 $2,00^A11 payments in advance. 
 
 FOR ADVERTI8IMO, 
 
 12 lines, single insertion ®1.00 | 12 lines, 1 month, $2.50 
 
 12 do. 3 months, 5.50 | 12 do. 1 year, 16.00 
 
 Published every week, at the Office, No 10 Spruce street 
 New York, by the Proprietors. 
 
 EDWARD D0W:NES CONNERY & CO. 
 
 New Y'ork, march 27 
 
 Gi ILMORE'b SALI-IM QUADRILLE BAND. E. UP- 
 rroN, Jr., Prompter. Apply to T. S. Gu-More. Es- 
 sex House, Salem, Mass. feblS 
 
 THE SOUTHEKN CITIZEN, 
 
 IS published weekly at Knoxville, Tennessee, by JOHN 
 MITCHELL & WM. G. SWAN, at S2 per annum, or 
 ffil for SIX mouths, payable invariably in advance. 
 
 Mr. Mitchell having commenced in the 28th number oi 
 the paper, a series of Letters addressed to the Hon. Alex- 
 ander H. Stephens of Georgia, which when completed will 
 furnish an entire history of 
 
 THE IRISH TROUBLES OF 1848, 
 
 With their Causes and Consequences, 
 
 The Southern Citizen will be the more interesting to both 
 American and Irish readers. Besides these contributions 
 from Mr. Mitchel, the Southern Citizen will continue to 
 have its usual quantity of original matter upon political 
 and literary subjects prepared by him. The circulation, 
 though large and constantly increasing, the proprietors 
 have thought will be much more extended by an announce- 
 ment iu this form. 
 
 Communications with remittances may be addresedto 
 Mitchel & Swan, Knoxville, Tennessee, or to any of the 
 following Agents: 
 
 S G Courteuay & Co, Charleston, S C; Thomas B O'Con- 
 nor, Savannah, Ga; J C Morgan, New Orleans, La; Jas A 
 Gentry, Qichmoud,Va; Alexander Adamson, Washington 
 citv; Tallinage & Tunner, Cincinnati, O; PM Havertv, 110 
 Fulton street, N Y; S H Goetzel, 33 Dauphin street. Mobile 
 Ala; Benj B Davis, Masonic Buildiiig, Montgomery, Ala; 
 Ross & Toucey, 121 Nassau street, N Y, supply dealers only 
 upon reasonable terms; James McGinn, 121 Kearney street 
 San Francisco. 
 
 *** Clubs of ten will be supplied with the paper ior ®15. 
 
 CLUBS! CLUBSl! CLUBS!!! 
 
 There is no town or village so small, but a club of six or 
 more subscribers for the Irish Miscellany can be easily ob- 
 tained. Will those of our friends who are well-wishers ot 
 the land of their birth, do us the favor of getting up Clubs. 
 Our terms will be — 
 To a club of six persons sent to one address, S10,00 
 
 To a club of twelve, 19.00 
 
 The whole of the money must invariably be sent at one 
 remittance, and in advance. 
 
 In addition to this great reduction of price, each member 
 of a Club will be entitled to copies of all our splendid Gilt 
 Pictures. Let our friends exert themselves, and by their 
 patronage make the Miscellany the foremost Irish journa 
 on this continent. 
 
 TRAVLIILINC AGENTS WANTED. 
 
 We have determined to appoint a number of Travelling 
 Agents, to travel in the various States of the Union and 
 canvass for subscribers for this paper We do this at the 
 earnest request of many warm friends, who think we do 
 not take the requisite steps to make the paper known as ex- 
 tensively as it ought to be. 
 
 Persons desirous of becoming Travelling Agents, who 
 can bo well recommended, are re<iuesled to apply at our 
 ollice forthwith. None but f«ithlul,_^reliable men need ap 
 ply. To such a liberal commission will be allowed. Apply 
 at ourTublicalion OIKce, 4 Water street, Boston. 
 
 Back NnMiiEP.9 of the Mit^cellany, from the commence 
 mentot'tlio paper, maybe procured through any of our 
 regular agents, or by sending direct to the ollice of publi 
 cation, No. 4 Water street, Boutoo. Will our Iriendi In 
 want bear thia fact In mind? 
 
288 
 
 IRISH M1SCELLA!<Y. 
 
 OUR NATURALIZATION DEPARTMENT AND 
 AGENT. 
 
 Having some time since announced it as our 
 determination to open an office for naturalization, 
 in connection with the Miscellany, we now announce 
 it ready. ^Ve Imve removed our ottiie to the better 
 end neater Hccomniodutions at IC Franklin street, 
 nearly opposite the Boston Pilot otKce, where our 
 active agent, Christopher Plunkett.will be in readi- 
 ness to aid our friends in the patriotic pursuit of be- 
 coming citizens. The man wlio is not a citizen, 
 and can be, or who is a citinen and does not exer- 
 cise the franchise, is guilty of more than a neglect 
 of duly. In this connection, we take the following 
 from the Xational Intelligencer, and oltliough we 
 would not go as far os the Athenian law-giver, yet 
 ■we consider the neglect of such duties properly or 
 deservedly puni-shable by statue, where neglect or 
 indifference could be proven : — 
 
 ■ A Boston contemporary slates that at the late 
 election in Massachusetts nearly one-half of the 
 qualified electors of that State abstained from exer- 
 cising the right of siuifiage. This indift'erenee with 
 regard to the elective franchise, in a commonwealth 
 heretofoie among the most remarkable for the intel- 
 ligent interest taken by its citizens in political af- 
 fairs, is well calculated to excite the surprise of the 
 critical observer. The Athenian law-yiver who affix- 
 ed the penally of death to the criminal neglect of the 
 citizen in refusing to vote on all public questions, 
 intended by the most impressive of human sanctions 
 to inculcate the civil duty imposed no less by the 
 necessities than the forms of popular government. 
 A right neglected is a right de>pised, and a right 
 despised is certainly one which no longer deserves 
 to be called ' the most inestimable prerogative of 
 freemen.' 
 
 We, of course, are unable at this distance to pro- 
 i\ounce any judgment upon the causes which, singly 
 or collectively, explain this indifference of the peo- 
 ple of Massachusetts to the exercise of the elective 
 franchise. Is it that the right has been cheapened 
 by its universality, until it embraces within the 
 numlier of its subjects a multitude who are insensi- 
 tle to its enjoyment, because incapable of appre- 
 ciating its advantages r Or is it that the political 
 complexion of the State of Massachusetts is deemed 
 so unalterably fixed that a large proportion of her 
 voting population deem it unnecessary to partici- 
 pate in elections which they regard as ' foregone 
 conclusions r' Or is it that more than one hundred 
 thousand of the vo'ers of that State find themselves 
 irnable to sympathize with any cordiality in the 
 principles and policies of either of the two leading 
 parties which now more pre-emii\enlly engross the 
 political activity of the country. 
 
 Without unterialdng, on our own authority, to 
 eignalize among these questions the one which, to 
 the exclusion of the others, points to the sole and 
 sufficient explanation of the phenomenon designated, 
 ■we may say tliat our intelligent cotcniporary, the 
 Boston Courier, refers the paucity of the recent vote 
 in Massachusetts to the dissatisfaction felt by a 
 large portion of the people of that State with the 
 present topics of political discussion, w^hich, being 
 essentially narrow in their scope, are not of a nature 
 to enlist the attention or awaken the zeal of a large 
 constituency, who have been formerly accustomed to 
 interest themselves in great practical question 
 
 ADVERTISEMENTS. 
 
 PASS.VGK IIKDUCKI) UlcrWEKX 
 
 LIVERPOOL AND BOSTON. 
 
 MERCHANTS' LINE 
 
 — OK — 
 
 BOSTON AND LIVERPOOL PACKETS; 
 
 6A1L1^0 PnOM LIVERPOOL DIRECT TO BOSTON EVEHT 
 FIFTEEN DATS. 
 
 THE SPLENDID PACKETS comprising this line are a» 
 I'oliows:— 
 
 Sliips. Tons. Captains. 
 
 CoMMoiioRE- - - - 1800 Biira 
 
 t'ARLYLE 21X10 Maxwell 
 
 SUAWMUT - . . - 1000 Higglns 
 
 Mongolia .... l&XI Melclicr 
 
 TllOS- J EFFERSON - 1500 Hill 
 
 Walter Scott - - 1600 Smith 
 
 Princess lioVAL . . 2000 Hartley 
 
 HicMAKU Morse . . 1500 Diiismoie 
 
 TnALATTA ... - 1750 Sliiison 
 
 CAMBltlA .... 1S50 I'erry 
 
 PocAHoNTls - - - 1700 Delaiid 
 
 ItUFUS CUOATE - - 1600 Kicll 
 
 Tiicsc ships ore all of the flrst class, mostly new, and built 
 expressly tor tile Liverpool trade; spucioils bu-tween decks, 
 well veiitilnled, with all tlic modern iiMiirmiin. nis lor the 
 conilort, iiealth and safety of pussi-n-.i -, 1 1h\ :ire com- 
 manded by American Captains of kimvMi .Npi r ii-ncc and 
 kindness, who will carefully look tu ;ill lliu wiuita of the 
 passengers during ihe voyage. 
 
 Eticli ship will be furnished with proper Medical atten- 
 dance. 
 
 I'enons sendirg for their friends in the Old Country can 
 depend on having them ordered up promptly for the 
 FIRST SHIPS, and at such times as will prevent their b(Ung 
 detained m Liverpool, as is often practiced by the other 
 
 RATES OF PASSAGE 
 from Liverpool to Boston (including provisions): — 
 For persons 12 yen^^J of age, and over, - - - §20 00 
 
 For children under VI years, lu 00 
 
 For iufantt) uuder 1 je'ar, at time of embarkation, 3 00 
 
 REMITTANCES. 
 Bills of E.xchauge on England, Ireland, Scotland, "Wales 
 and (Jermauy, for sale in suras to suit. 
 
 hnssengers lorwurdcd weekly to all parts ol Europe by 
 Steam and Sailing vessels. 
 
 PAGE, KICIIARDSON & CO.. 
 
 134 State street, Boston. 
 
 O* For PASSAGE CERTIFICATES from and to Liver- 
 pool, and Bills of Exchange, or for any information as 
 above, apply personally or by letter to 
 
 Lawrence' & ryan, agexts. 
 
 u271y No. 41 Broad street, Boston. 
 
 ABVSiBTISEMBNTS. 
 
 IMPORTANT TO HOUSEKEEPERS! 
 
 J , F R ^^^ Fedeiial Stkeet, 
 
 RESPECTFULLY informs his friends and the public 
 that he continues to offer for sale a large and select 
 assortment of 
 
 GROCERIES, 
 
 Consisting of TEAS, SUtiARS, COFFEES, SPICES, &o. 
 
 — ALSO — 
 
 CHOICEST WINES, LIQUORS AND CICARS, 
 
 ^ Wholesale and Kctail. 
 
 THE BEST FAMILY FLOUR CONSTANTLY ON HAND. 
 The subscriber's long experience enables him to sell to the 
 purchaser's advantage, and it is his undevinting aim to pro- 
 duce a better article tlinn can be found elsewhere for tile 
 same price. He is. therefore, conlident that those favoring 
 him with their patronage will receive every satisfaction, and 
 ^"f i find his goods are sold extremely low for cash. lydll 
 
 civil administration. If this be true, it must be ob- 
 vious that a wide field is opened from which each of 
 the parties now most completely organized can hope 
 to recruit its forces, by offering to this large class 
 (whose representatives are not tound in Massachu- 
 setts alone), some other motives of political activity 
 than those which have nearly spent their force, as, 
 in default of some conces.Mons niade by one or the 
 other of the present political confederations to this 
 ivide and pervading sentiment, it is easy to augur 
 that some more useful organization will arise to 
 meet the demand that is made for practical and 
 beneficial legislation.' 
 
 We have no hesitation in saying that Mr. Plun- 
 kett will be found every way obliging, fully com- 
 petent, and always ready to give infjrm.Ttion upon 
 the subject. He will be on hand at all times during 
 the sessions of the courts.and no more than necessary 
 delay will he caused. The readers of the Miscel- 
 lany are, we feel assured, not only good citizens, 
 but will be found at the ballot-box, e.xercising the 
 gTeatest of all republican institutions, the quiet 
 but most effective franchise. 
 
 ATLANTIC ROYAL MAIL SIEAM XAVIGA- 
 TlOX COMPANY'S 
 
 NEW YORK AND GALWAY LINE. 
 
 THE next departure from New York will be the :tcam. 
 ship 
 
 CIRCASSIAN, Cnpt. Jackson Thursday. Dec. 30. 
 
 Touching at St. Joim's, NK., to receive the royal mails. 
 
 Trices of passage — First class S90; second do. SOO; third 
 do, S30; including free tickets to all the principal cities on 
 railway routes in (irettt Ilritain. Tliird class nmst provide 
 plate, knife, fork. &c., and bedding. 
 
 I'assage to St. John's— t irst class, S35; second do, S25. 
 
 For freight or pas.sage inquire of the American E.\press 
 Company. ill Hudson street, and at their utlier ad\'erti^ed 
 unices in the interior. I'lissnge iu the third class can be se- 
 cured at any ot the tibove ojriccs to bring )}ersoii6 out I'rora 
 any of tiie principal cities on the lines of railway iu threat 
 Hntain for sa5. or from Oaiway for &!. 
 
 A.MERICAN E.\l'RE.-iS C'<.).41PANV. 
 ALE.XA.NUEK UOLLANU, Manager 
 ■ York, Nov. 13, 1S58. ly d4 
 
 STEAM TO ALL PARTS OF GREAT BRITAIN 
 
 —VIA TBE — 
 
 ATLANTIC liUYAI. MAIL STEA.MSIIir COS 
 
 NEW YORK AND GALWAY LINE. 
 
 THIS is the tthortcHt route between Kurone nnd Amer- 
 ica. The line is compOHcd of powerful and fuHt Ball- 
 inc steamships, ably olficered, and lurui»hed with every- 
 ttmi)? requlnite to render the vovaga nafc and uKreeable. 
 The (lepu^tu^e■^ iVom New York lor Gal way will be as fol- 
 lowB, until further notice, viz — 
 
 CIKCASSIAN, Capt. Jackson, Tlinraday, Dec. 80. 
 
 Tersons viKJtinfc Ireland reach their destination In three- 
 fourths the time taken by any other route, and all have an 
 opportunity ot visiting places and scenery of unrivalled In- 
 tereht in Ireland. 
 
 Price of putiSHgc, including free tickets by the usual rail- 
 road routes from (ialwaytoany of the principal citieti ot 
 Great Britain, at the following reduced rates;— Finat closd 
 $90. second clasA S&U, thiid chiss S30. 
 
 Tliose wishing to brin^ their friends to this country can 
 purctiHBe tickets for their passage iu third cIo-hs from Gal- 
 way at S30, or from other citien in Great Britain, acceiwible 
 by railroad, ?35. A liberal cabin table will be provided. 
 and cooked provit^iouH for third t:\aini passengers to ana 
 from Galway. 
 
 For freight and parage and further particutarfl apply to 
 the American Exprees Company, CI Uud^ou street, New 
 York, or to 
 
 NAZEO liUOTlIERS t SWEENEY, 
 
 olG tf u Chatham Uow, UoMton. 
 
 TEN READY WAYS TO MAKE MONEY, being ten 
 orifjiual receipts for the manufacture of upefulartl- 
 cles, which command a quick sale, and insure a full pocket. 
 Formerly sold for So; but now 8ent to mi^r pprson tor one 
 gold dollar. Address T L. JlEILLY, Peace Dale, U. I. 
 al8 tit 
 
 TREANOU & GUINEY, ATTORNEYS AND COUNSEL- 
 LORS AT LAW, 15 Musyuchusetts Ulock, Court square, 
 
 lioston. 
 
 IXT^l'articular attention paid to Conveyancing, and the 
 examination of titleK of Real Estate. febl 
 
 OUR AGENTS. 
 Boston —John J. Dyer, & Co., 36 School street; A. Wil- 
 liams & Co., 100 Washin^on street; Kcdh< 
 
 I & Cc 
 
 LAWRENCE llRK.AUE BANL). J. Ues.M(iM», Lead- 
 CT. Are prepared to lin-nish Mutic lor Military and 
 Civic Parades, Pic-Nics, Festivals. &c. Also, a (quadrille 
 Band turni^ihed, if desired. Addre«it J. iJonmoud, eare oi 
 Uev. J. O'UoiuieU, Lawreuca, Uiuii. 
 
 9 and 
 
 13 Court street: Wm. Ilickey, 12.S Federal stret-t; Howe & 
 Co., 11 Court Avenue; and "William Keating, 170 llarrisou 
 Avenue, 
 
 East Boston— William Bnrk. 
 
 Charlestown— James MeNulty. 
 
 Chelsea— John Graham. 
 
 Milton— John Collins. 
 
 Canton— John Collins. 
 
 Randolph— Lawrence McGrath. 
 
 yuincy— Andrew Kerrigan. 
 
 Woburn Centre— Charles llrcslin. 
 
 Milford— Robert Pierd. 
 
 Stoneham— James Calnap. 
 
 Medford and Maiden— Daniel Devvir. 
 
 Bangor, Me.— Edward J. Kelleher. 
 
 New York.— Dexter & Brother, 14 Sc 16 Ann street. 
 
 Troy, N. Y.— Francis Koarke. 
 
 Philadelphia.— A. Winch, 320 Chestnut street. 
 
 Ohio.— M. U. Bird, Cincinnati, and Hawks & Brothers, 
 Clenveland. 
 
 Detroit, Mich. — J. A. Rovs. 
 
 Washington. D. C— Daniel A. Brosnan. 
 
 St. Louis. Missouri. — Thomas Duggan. 
 
 New Orleans, La.— James M. Shine. 
 
 California— James McGinn, of San Francisco. 
 
 The Miscfltany may also be had, retail, of newspaper and 
 periodical dealers throughout the country. 
 
 TKAVELLISO AGENTS. 
 
 John Warren, 50 Andover street, for Boston and vicinity 
 James Dovle, of Millbury, Mass. M. Findlav MeKav, 
 of Amesbury, Mass. Edward U. Keenan, ot North Ferris- 
 burg, Vt. Michae' F. Ilackett. of Providence. R. 1. Jamea 
 SulUvan, of New Haven, Ct. James Culleu, of West Troy, 
 N. Y. James Walsh, New Hampshire. 
 
 RATES OF ADVERTISING. 
 
 FOR EACH SgCAItKOK TWELVE LINKS. 
 
 First insertion, . . . SH)0 | Three months, . . W-OO 
 
 Each subsequent do . 50 | 4,)ne year, .... Itt.OO 
 
 Six JiiiCH or less constitute half a square. 
 
 Larger advertisements charged in proportion. 
 
 Business Notices, solid . . . 10 cents per line. 
 
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 TUE 
 IRISH MISCELLANY 
 
 Is published weekly, and devoted tu the interests and vio' 
 dfcation of the Irish people throughout the world. 
 
 The Miscellany republishes each wvck one whole number 
 o! the old ' DUHLIN Pennt JoonxAL.* with ori;;tnal and 
 selected essays, reviews, poetry. &.C., by Iri>hmen, of liI^t- 
 rutc ability. ' It also contains beautiful PicioriaJ Ilhuirji- 
 tions of Irish sce:iery and other ohjecrs of interest, amon^ 
 which may be enumerated engravings ol the ancient cfts- 
 tles anri round towers, t.'ie nuns of the old chuichos. the 
 plundered monaidories. convents and abbeys of Ireland. 
 
 It will also contain coruct Picioritii represcnTaiions oi 
 works of art ex«:cnted by Iii^hmen ot the pre.-^nt day, as 
 well as in former times, in this country and throughout 
 ICurope. 
 
 iKOMS.— S'i.OO per yenr, invariably in advance. 
 lliOMAS ONEILL. PitoPRiETon. 
 MICIIAKL J. WALSU. CoNnucroR. 
 Nu. WFR.&NU.1.IN .Stumut, Boston, Mass. 
 
VOLUME 2— NUMBER 45.] 
 
 BOSTON, SATURDAY, DECEMBER 18, 1858. [PRICE FOUR CENTfc'. 
 
 ARDCLASS. 
 
 The prefixed illustration, which is engraved from 
 an original drawing by Mr. Nicholl, represents the 
 largest of the many ancient castles of ArdglasB, and 
 is popularly kno%vn by the name of the ' Kmg'i 
 Castle;' It is a fortress of considerable size and 
 strength ; but is at the present much dilapidated, 
 and falling to decay. A second castle here is 
 called Horn Castle, and a third. Choud Castle; but 
 the origin of these names is now unknown, nor is the 
 period recorded at which any of those castles were 
 erected. Of the remaining fortresses, the most re- 
 markable is that called Jordan's Castle, which, 
 though inferior in size to the King's Castle, is yet 
 constructed with greater elegance than that, or any 
 of the other buUdings of the kind, and was a place 
 of considerable strength. It is situated in the 
 centre of the town, and appears to hare been the 
 citadel. This castle is memorable for the gallant 
 
 defence made by its owner, Simon Jordan, who, in 
 the Tyrone rebellion, held out for three years, till 
 he was relieved by the Lord Deputy Mountjoy, on 
 the 17th of June, 1601, who rewarded him for this 
 service, both by a concordatum from the Queen and 
 his own private bounty. 
 
 Here is also a long range of castellated houses, 
 called by the inhabitants the New- works, and said 
 to have been erected by Shane O'Neill, about the 
 year 1570. It stands boldly on a rocky shore of 
 the bay, which washes it on the east and north 
 sides, and extends 250 feet in length, and in breadth 
 only 2-t, the thickness of the walls being three feet. 
 Its design is uniform and elegant, consisting of 
 three square towers, one in the centre and one at 
 each end, each tower containing three 'apartments 
 10 feet square; the intermediate space is occupied 
 by a range of 15 arched door-ways of cut stone, 
 and 16 square windows — a door-way and a window 
 
 being placed alternately next to each other all 
 along the range, an arrangement which leaves no 
 doubt that they were designed for shops or mer- 
 chants' warerooms. There is a story over th« 
 shops, containing the same number of apartments, 
 and each has its own separate stone staircase. The 
 rooms on the ground floor were seven feet high, the 
 upper rooms six feet and a half; and in each of 
 these was a small water-closet, the flue of which 
 runs down through the walls, and is washed at the 
 bottom by the sea. They have no fire-place, and 
 the merchants, as it would appear, were in tha 
 habit of using Horn Castle as their kitchen and 
 dining-hall. On the sea side there are no windows 
 or apertures, except narrow loop-holes, a circum- 
 stance which, together with the centre and flanking 
 towers, shows the secondary purpose of the build- 
 ing to have been a fortress, to protect the merchants 
 <>■'" .iratical assailants. There are also ruins of 
 
 KING'S CASTLR, .\n:):iI..VS,S 
 
290 
 
 IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 other castles of lesser moment, whose names arc for- 
 gotten. 
 
 Ardglass is picturesquely situated on the shore of 
 a little harbor of the same name, in the barony of 
 I.ecale, seven miles N. K. of Downpatrick, and 
 though now a mean village, witli very few inhabi- 
 tants, ranked, anciently, as the principal town of 
 trade, next to Carriekfergus, in the province of 
 Ulster. Its harbor, however, which is iron-bound, 
 aud full of roeks, is only lit for fishing vessels to 
 enter, for which reason the out-trade was, for the 
 most part, carried on in Killough harbor, from 
 thence called by Speed the haven of Ardglass. Its 
 ontiiiuiiy is very great, as a church was founded 
 here by St. Patrick. It is said to have been a 
 borough, though on its ruin the privilege of re- 
 turning members to parliament went into disuse; in 
 the reign of Uenry the VI. it was a corporation, 
 governed by a portreeve. So late as the beginning 
 of the reign of Charles the I., the duties of the port 
 of Ardglass were let to farm. The history of this 
 interesting town is involved in much obscurity. 
 The ancient English family of the Savages are 
 generally supposed to have been the first colonists 
 of the place, and the founders of most of the castles 
 'remaining there, to whom a good part of Lecale, as 
 will as the Ardes, anciently belonged; for it appears 
 by an indenture in the public records, dated the 
 3Ut of May, 2Sth of Henry YIII., made between 
 Leonard Gray, Lord Deputy, and Kaymond Savage, 
 chieftain of his clan, that it was covenanted — ' That 
 Kaymond should have the chieftianshipand superior- 
 ity of hii sept, in the territory of the Savages, 
 otherwise called Lecale, as principal chieftain there- 
 of, and that Kaymond should give to the deputy, 
 for acquiring his favor and friendship, 100 fat able 
 cows and a horse, or 15 marks, Irish monej', in lieu 
 thereof, at the pleasure of the deputy.' But how- 
 ever this may be, it is certain that this southern 
 part of Lecale ^originally belonged to the Magen- 
 nises, and the historian of the county — Harris — 
 from whom most of our materials are taken, is of 
 opinion that the Savages were only intruders, of a 
 rather recent time, 'For' he adds, ' there is a tra- 
 dition in these parts, that when the Savages had 
 formed a strong body of raen.in order to oppress the 
 Magennises and other Irish families in Lecale, the 
 latter were obliged to call for the assistance of the 
 Earl of Kildare, aud promised him one or two town- 
 lands, according to the extent of their territories, 
 and by that means, that noble family got Ardglass, 
 and other lands thereabouts. When the Earl had 
 marched as far as Ballykinlar, the Savages submit- 
 ted, and so the quarrel ended.' 
 
 The Kildare family arc, we believe, still the chief 
 proprietors of this decayed town, as well as of 
 Strangford.|King Uenry the VIlI.,by letters patent, 
 granted to Gerald Fitzgerald, Earl of Kildare, in 
 fee-farm, all the grand and petty customs of the 
 ports of Strangford and Ardglass, with a power of 
 constituting officers for the ^collection of that rev- 
 enue. They continued in the Kildare family, except 
 during the period of its attainder, until the Earl of 
 Kildure sold the same to King Charles the I., in the 
 government of the Earl of Strafford, Anno 1637, 
 and were then said to be worth to the king £5,000 
 per annum, and they were confirmed to King 
 Charles the 11., his heirs and successors, by a clause 
 in the act of explanation, 17th and 18th Charles II. 
 
 During the vaimus civil wars in Ireland, the 
 castles of Ardglass frequently changed masters. 
 About the year 1578, they were taken from the 
 O'Neils, after a stout resistance, by Sir Nicholas 
 Bagnal, Marshal of Ireland, who placed here a 
 strong garrison, and they again fell into the pos- 
 session of the Irish in the memorable rebellion of 
 1641. 
 
 Ardglass formerly gave the title of Earl to the 
 family of Cromwell, and afterwards that of Vis- 
 gount to the family of Barrington. It is a rectory 
 
 in the diocese of Cloync. The ancient church of] 
 ArdhoU, situate near the town, was the original 
 pari.sh church, but was removed into the town, as 
 tradition says, in consequence of its being desecra- 
 ted by a cruel murder, committed by the clan of the 
 MacCartens, on the whole congregation assembled 
 at tho Christmas midnight moss. 
 
 There is a very curious lime-stone cavern, with a 
 large entrance aperture, and extending CO feet, 
 situate at the N.E. point of the harbor. 
 
 THE PRIVATE MEMOIRS OF CAPTAIN ROCK. 
 
 WBITTEN BT HIMSELF. 
 ' I will a round unvarnished tale deliver'— Suakespeake. 
 
 inthoduction. 
 More than one philospher has insinuated that no 
 man is great in his chamber ; that in private life the 
 hero and tho scholar act much like ordinary men, and 
 that the individual whoso name fills tho globe with awe 
 or veneration, is frequently unable to inspire his domes- 
 tics with either wonder or esteem. This, perhaps, is 
 generally true ; but still there is in the world a restless 
 anxiety to pass that line which separates the public 
 from the piivate character, for while men would not 
 give three straws to know what way such beings as 
 Tom Ellis or Alderman Nugent spent their time, when 
 not employed in eating or taxing bills of costs, they 
 would give half their substance to ascertain how the 
 ■ great leader' amuses himself in Merrion square, with 
 his rosy-cheeked progeny, when not conning his briefs 
 or saying his prayers. The curiosity is natural ; for 
 big children, like little ones, must break the rattle to 
 see what is inside ; and though frequently disappoint- 
 ed, they will not be deterred from doing so again and 
 again. 
 
 The demand, say political economists, will produce 
 the supply, and those who are curious will have their 
 curiosity gratified. Memoirs, from year to year, fill 
 the press ; and we have volumes upon volume*, de- 
 tailing the private lives of demireps, rouges and vag- 
 abonds, kings, queens and princes, as well as dukes, 
 lords, and commoners. Wiihin these few years the 
 appetite for scandal has increased the supply ; and 
 Mc'lwin's Conversations of Lord Byron has scarcely 
 been digested when the town was gratified with the 
 chaste production of Miss Wilson. The political 
 memoirs of my own family met with a becoming re- 
 ception from an inquisitive public ; and I am now in- 
 duced to give them the history of my private life, lest 
 the anxiety evinced by all classes should produce a 
 spurious one. Indeed, I understand that ' A 
 Voice from Kockglen is now hurrying through the 
 press, from the pen of Barry O'Meara, who spent five 
 days last August with my son, and I should not won- 
 der if a volume, detailing my conversations, were 
 shortly to come forth ; for a thin, pale, long, lank, 
 black gentleman pursues me every day into Peel's 
 Cofl"e-house,and makes rac speak to him whether 1 will 
 or not ; and the waiter cautioned me to bo on my 
 guard ' for that there fellow is a rum-'un, who is always 
 writing down summat after you go out.' Yesterday 1 
 passed Peel's, and entered Auderton's ; but the ghost 
 (of another I suppose) followed me in, and again made 
 me open my mouth, for I gave him a hearty damn for 
 his intrusion. 
 
 I shall advise my publisher to erect a steam-engine 
 for the purpose of printing this ' Cuette ;' otherwise 
 it will be impossible for him to meet the increased de- 
 mand occasioned by my ' Memoirs' appearing once a 
 week in this publication. The sensation caused by the 
 first number was astonishing. Orders arrived from 
 every village in the three kingdoms, and such was 
 the anxiety to read it, that all other periodicals were 
 completely neglected. Indeed, it had the elfeet ot 
 diminishing, very considerable, tho sale of the ' Edin- 
 burgh Review,' which happened to come out the same 
 week. As for Blackwood's, and Taylor and Hcssey's 
 Magazines, they have not sold this month at all ; and, 
 though the appearance of the 'Dublin and London' 
 might have contributed something to this, the great 
 
 cause was tho announcement of ' Captain Rock in 
 London.' 
 
 But, if this was the case with the first number, what 
 will it be with the second 1 (or the world never yet 
 read anything half so interesting, amusing, and impor- 
 tant, as my ' Private Memoirs.' My former publica- 
 tion was pretty well ; but it was only the shtdow of 
 what is to follow, or at lca«t a tktieton of my political 
 life. What is there left ufldone will now be sujiplicd ; 
 and while I shall, with rigid fidehty, record all the 
 events of my own life, I shall depict upon the canvass 
 the characters of my contemporics. Think, reader ! 
 only think, what a feast there is before you ! trag cdy, 
 comedy, and farce, interspersed wi'h interludes and 
 melodramas, performed by Irish characters, consisting 
 of magistrates, parsons, priests, lawyers, soldiers, tithe- 
 proctors, White-Boys, and a long list of supernumer- 
 aries ; for what is the character with whom 1 have not 
 been acquainted 1 
 
 Let the legislature look to it, for I shall draw the 
 opake veil which too long has been thrown over the 
 affairs of Ireland, and reveal to the eyes of the pub- 
 lic the real condition of the public. Henceforth, 
 they shall know what kind of men are called upon 
 to administer justice and religion in the land of 
 bogs, as well as the reasons why the people accept 
 of neither. Who could do this but myself? Not 
 one, for all the secrets of the kingdom are known to 
 me, and me alone. 
 
 But, while I am filling up the vast historical pic- 
 ture, I shall not forget 
 
 ' The story of my life, 
 From year to year; the battles, sieges, fortunes, 
 That 1 have passed, 
 
 even from my boyish 'days.' 
 
 Like Ossi.an, ' my soul is full of other times : the 
 joy of my youth returns,' and I can now view, 
 through the vista of years, the long perspective of 
 my eventful life — the tricks of youth, the contests 
 of my later years, the enemies I have defeated, and 
 the friends I have caressed. All, all I have done 
 and said, shall be laid before my readers ; and, 
 though their pleasure must be great, mine shall be 
 greater ; for what a fool was Franklin ! he robbed 
 Heaven of lightning, yet lamented that he could not 
 renew the tenure of life. Silly 'man! he need not 
 have petitioned Jupiter ; he had only to sit down 
 before a good coal fire in his two-arm chair, uncork 
 a bottle of port, or mix a tumbler of whiskey punch, 
 shut the door of his apartment, and unburden his 
 thoughts. The waters of oblivion, according to the 
 reports of the latest travellers, are not half so men- 
 tally soporific as these necessary companions of a 
 lonely hour, for they immediately, judging from 
 myself, annihiliatc the present time, and renew the 
 scenes of twenty, fwrty, or fifty years ago. Remi- ' 
 niscence has nameless charms for me, and in these 
 delightful moments of retrospection, I forget the 
 obloquy that has bt en showered upon my name, the 
 arts of my enemies, and the imprudence of friends ; 
 while I revel amid the scenes of youth and man- 
 hood, laugh at all the ludicrous incidents of my 
 long life, and enjoy, for the hundredth time, the 
 jokes, the pranks, and the ' vacant laugh,' of those 
 I shall never jest, or drink, or fight with, more. No 
 matter I age has only reversed my prospects ; in 
 youth I look forward to the future; but now my 
 greatest solace is derived from the past. 
 
 Reader ! judge not harshly of my conduct. Many 
 things 1 have done which give me pleasure, many 
 that give me pain. To you I relate the good and 
 evil of my life, and before you condemn mine, re- 
 collect how much of both is in thine own. 
 
 CHAl'TER I. 
 MODE OP NITISINO IN IRELAND SIXTY YEAES SINCE. 
 
 In the good old times, when it pleased Providence 
 that I, the most remarkable character of the age, 
 should be bom, no mother nursed her own child. 
 Fostering was then the common practice of the 
 country, and, as I afterwards understood, more 
 
IRISH JnSCELLA^r. 
 
 291 
 
 than three score vomen contended for the honor of 
 sucking the tenth son of the old eliieftuin of llock- 
 glcn. Sthasu M'Farlanc, however, was selected, 
 she being the foster-sister cf my mother; and, im- 
 mediately after the christening (^a jluI Irish one), 
 she carried me to her cabin, situated among the 
 mountains, about live miles from my father's house. 
 Ueing intended for the church, my nurse received 
 particular directions to be careful of her charge, and 
 she promised to watch over the -little darling' with 
 more than a mother's anxiety ; after which she was 
 presented with the fleeces of three wethers, six 
 hams of bacon, a 'muskaan' of butter, a piece of 
 linen, and a sack of oatmeal. Such was the muni- 
 ficence of the times, and such was the anxiety of 
 my parents for the welfare of a little Decimus ! 
 
 Sthase having many foster-sisters, she was obliged 
 to become a nurse to more children than one, and 
 a single cradle rocked half a dozen of us to repose 
 — a circumstance which, I fancy, led to that love 
 of society which attended me through life. The 
 period was one of alarm, and the vocation of my 
 father (hunting tithe-proctors) prevented him from 
 paying that attention to his child which he would 
 otherwise have done, were he not incumbered with 
 the most important public affairs. For two years 
 neither he nor my mother came to see me; and 
 when he did make it his business to inquire after 
 his son, I was pointed out to him in rather a singu- 
 lar manner. 
 
 He arrived alone at the cabin, and, having taken 
 his seat on the straw buss in the corner, he was not 
 a little astonished to see six of us, all of one age, 
 sprawling on the floor, among whom he could not 
 recognize his own. He inquired of the brat who 
 was performing the duty of a nursery-maid for 
 Sthase, and was told she was busy in the potatoe- 
 garden. ' And how,' he inquired, ' do you feed 
 all these children ?' ' Well enough,' replied our 
 protector, at the same time calling out 'Gin! Gin!' 
 ■when in ran a gray goat, and placed herself over a 
 hole in the floor, into which no sooner a child was 
 put than it commenced an immediate attack upon 
 the dugs of poor Gin, who was in the habit of per- 
 forming for us all the functions of a wet-nurse. 
 Indignant as my father felt, he remained silent, until 
 he discovered his son through my obstinacy; for, it 
 having come to my turn to descend into the suck- 
 ing-hole, I refused to quit my hold before nature 
 was satisfied; upon which the boy seized me by the 
 arm, saying, ' Come out of this, Kock ; you would 
 drink as much as five." " Oh,' says my father, in- 
 terposing, ' let poor Rock drink his fill ; and, as I 
 looked up in his face, he snatched me from the 
 floor, pressed me to his heart, and bedeweld with 
 his tears my sun-burnt face. A removal to Rock- 
 glen immediately followed, and in happier moments 
 I have been pleased to see the venerable chieftain 
 shake his sides with laughter while he related his 
 anecdote, always concluding it by assuring his au- 
 ditors that he attributed my eccentric disposition 
 to the milk I was reared on. 
 
 But though I was, like the founders of Rome, 
 suckled by a quadruped, it does not follow but that 
 I was well fed ; for, in addition to Gin's milk, I ate 
 good mutton. This I can't state from my own 
 knowledge, but I have no doubt of its truth, for, 
 on my coming home from nurse, we had a leg of 
 lamb for supper, and, when grace M'as concluded, I 
 cried out, with great vehemence, ' Hide the bones ! 
 — hide the bones !' This I learned from my foster- 
 father,for it appeared that he,like most mountaineers, 
 was in the habit of stealing the sheep that fed 
 on the hills, and, to avoid detection, used to order 
 his children, after every meal, to 'hide the bones.' 
 For many years this reraamed a standing jest at 
 Rockglen, and I remeuibor the time when I was 
 aiUy enough to take umbrage whenever any one 
 after dinner cried out, ' Hide the bones.' 
 
 I shall not dwell any longer on thu aneodotes c 
 
 childhood, but pass, at once, to that period which 
 is yet vividly impressed upon my memory — my 
 shool-boy days, from which time I began to observe 
 the manners and conduct of men, and to perform 
 myself no contemptible part in the great drama of 
 life; for, like players, ' we have our exits and our 
 entrances.' 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 AN lEISH SCHOOL AND SCHOOL-MASTER SIXTY TEAlia 
 
 SINCE. 
 
 In the good old times, no boy was tortured by that 
 instrument of good manners, a pedagogue, until he 
 had obtained, at least, his tenth year; though it was by 
 no means unusual to see a raw-boned fellow, of six feet 
 high, marching to school with a turf in one hand and 
 a horn-book in the other. Perhaps our forefathers 
 were right, for what proficiency can a child under ten 
 make? He may, indeed, learn to spell, as a parrot 
 learns to speak ; but nothing more, for his ideas are 
 incapable of being either separated or combined. The 
 gain by earh schooling is at least doubtful, while the 
 loss of juvenile happiness is certain ; for what greater 
 misery can a boy suffer than that of going to school '! 
 Mrs. Trimmer, and other old women like her, whether 
 in breeches or petticoats, may write nice little books 
 to subdue the propensities of nature; but still the child 
 will ' creep, like a snail, unwillingly to school,' and a 
 boy himself must^certainly know best what constitutes 
 his immediate happiness. 
 
 My father was not only a chieftain and lawgiver, but 
 a philosopher. From him I inherit many orthodox as 
 well as paradoxical opinions, and perhaps the reader 
 will consider this, about school-boys, as one of latter 
 species. If so, I shall adduce myself in proof of its 
 truth and reasonableness, for I assure j-ou that I was 
 fifteen years old before a hook was put into my hand, 
 and I can safely aver that those fifteen years were the 
 happiest of my long life. I did nothing all the time 
 but gather flowers about the meadows of Rockglen, 
 listen to the songs of my father's bard, and hear the 
 predictions of my future greatness from each successive 
 visitor. But this felicity, like peace in Ireland, was 
 too good to last long. One morning in summer, as I 
 stepped out of bed, I found a book and a ' clough ' 
 lying on the floor. I knew their meaning, and, with- 
 out hesitation, I stooped for the book. In an instant 
 my poor father had me clasped in his arms, and, with 
 tears of gladness, he exclaimed, 'I knew my Decimus 
 had a natural pride about him, that would prefer being 
 a scholar than a el iwn;' for, in these times, parents 
 ascertained the disposition of their children by laying 
 before them those things which indicated learning and 
 labor, and it depended on which they preferred 
 whether they were sent to school or to the plough. 
 
 Having always had a prescience of being a great 
 man, I set ofi" for the school and Florence M'Carthy, 
 without shedding a single tear, though my too-partial 
 mother, bedewed my cheeks with hers at this our first 
 parting since my return from nurse. About half an 
 hour brought me within sight of the 'noisy mansion,' 
 and my little heart bounded against my side as I en- 
 tered i:. The school-master, with a switch under his 
 arm, welcomed me with a smile, and placed mo on a 
 seat near him; but so intent was I on getting my les- 
 son, that I did not raise my head for a fall half-hour. 
 When I ventured, at last, to look up, good God ! whai 
 a sight met my eyes ! A hundred boys, of all sizes, 
 ages, and degress, were arranged on boards, placed on 
 large stones, that made a kind of forms of them, while 
 their position served to illustrate every figure iu 
 Euclid, as they went across and along, angular and 
 diagonal. Tables and desks were then considered an 
 incumbrance in a school-room, the boys, and even 
 Florence himself, having a hoard, twelve inches by 
 eighteen, to write on, which, for want of a better place 
 to put in, was always laid on the knees. Mr. Castairs 
 and Mr. Lewis may laugh at this ; hut I have still 
 some writing executed by poor Florence, and I will 
 wager one of my 'Gazettes ' against their last piece of 
 penmanship, that neither of these professors of the new 
 •ystem will better it. 
 
 Poor Florence ! ' I knew him well.' Tall, thin, and 
 formal, he Beemed made up of precision, every word 
 being pronounced with as much care as he evinced in 
 the pointing of a letter in a copy-piece, while his dress, 
 of decent frieze, indicated thecxtiemo neatness of the 
 wearer. The village all declared how much he knew, 
 and he was not insensible of his own merit; for there is 
 not a fellow of Trinity College could sit in his curious- 
 ly carved chair with more dignity than Florence when 
 ho called out, 'Silence I Lessons now.' I iliink I hear 
 his voice at this moment, and my cars ring with the 
 Babel-like din that followed, for that boy was counted 
 best which shouted his lesson out loudest, and you may 
 be sure the emulation thus excited made the school- 
 house very unlike a Quakers' meeting. Goldsmith 
 must have been well aware of this custom when he 
 wrote 'noisy mansion,' a fact which proves, more than 
 any other, that the scene of his ' desertud village ' was 
 laid in Ireland. 
 
 The noise thus unnecessarily made had sometimes a 
 singular cfFeet on Florence himself, for, when the roar 
 was at the highest, he would start up from his chair 
 and commence piercing the thatch with a long pole; 
 and then, lowering it to the ground, he would run 
 round the school, drawing it across the hoys' legs, who 
 always made the best preparation they could when 
 they saw the fit coming on him. 
 
 A country school-house at this period was, and even 
 at the present day is.Iike a chureh-yard, — the gathering- 
 place of all conditions, for the poor scholar, who could 
 not pay, was as welcome as the rich man's son, who 
 could, and nothing is more erroneous than to suppose 
 that education is not within the reach of all classes in 
 the country parts of Ireland. The books usually mado 
 use of at this time have been objected to, but, I think, 
 without reason, for I owe much of that patriotic 
 heroism and enthusiastic virtue which have distin- 
 guished my career to the early perusal of the hedge 
 classics, 'The Seven Champions of Christendom,' 
 and ' Guy Earl of Warwick.' I even read the ' His- 
 tory of Jane Shore,' and was lietter for it, for, since 
 that time, I have held despots and seducers in equal 
 abhorrence. It is rather remarkable that the great 
 wish to engross all works of such tendency to them- 
 selves, for, while they take their sons and daughters to 
 see Rowe's tragedy, they would exclude the life of this 
 unfortunate woman, which enforces an excellent moral 
 lesson, from the daughters of poverty, who stand in 
 much need of such an example. 
 
 For three years I was regular in my attendance at 
 school, and was making the usual progress, when the 
 crowded state of Florence's academy alarmed the gov- 
 ernment, lest the Papists should learn to read the 
 statutes they were bound to obey; for these sages were 
 wiser than Heliogabalus, and, instead of hanging their 
 edicts on high and inaccessible glaces, they at once 
 disqualified the people from perusing them. Tyrants 
 are always cowards, and when information of Flor- 
 ence's existence was given at the castle of Dublin, the 
 sensation produced was incredible ; the courtiers ran 
 to hidiug-places, the ladies fled to the island of Dalky, 
 and the Sir William Stammer of the day was commis- 
 sioned to erect barriers at CuUen's Wood and Kil- 
 mainham, while the military force of the country was 
 placed under arms, and the whole of the Dublin alder- 
 men were apprehensive that they should rise some 
 morning with their throats cut. 
 
 When the panic had somewhat subsided, a detach- 
 ment of dragoons was sent down to arrest the great 
 enemy of ignorance, and so unconscious was Florence 
 of having given offence, that he had just taken his seat 
 as the cavalry formed round the school-house, and, as 
 usual, commanded ' .Silence ! now to your lessons.' 
 The roar that instantly burst from a hundred lungs so 
 terrified the soldiers, that, thinking Florence was pre- 
 pared for their reception, they scampered off in dif- 
 ferent directions. The confusion thus caused brought 
 us all running out, when, seeing what kind of enemies 
 they hud to contend with, the dr.igoons rallied, and 
 soon made prisoner of poor Florence, who was instant- 
 ly tied behind one of the men, and carried off, the re- 
 mainder of the troop surrounding him with drawa 
 
292 
 
 HUSH MISCELLANY. 
 
 swordi. This was ihe first time I found myself im- | to w«tk along ihe roail with a book in his Imml, ilie 
 periously called upon to talce a leading psrt in the [ bridle round hi< iiini, iind liis ol.l irupijed hor«o lul- 
 public aftuirs; for, althou(;h tlicn but eighteen, I longed i lowing liira, as if unwillingly drapgcd nfier bi» Miasler. 
 to make my»elf useful. Seeing uU the seholnrs siarini; The dress of the doctor ronsimcd of ta niuny coals aid 
 at each other, I mounted upon the master's chair, and waiscoats as were worn by the gravc-iliujjer in ' II. mu- 
 aildresseil my fullow pupiU. My harangue must have | let,' while his legs were swallowed up in llunncN, and 
 been very impressive, for evtn the imaller boys volun- j a large red wi^, like the capiial of a Corinlhim 
 teered to aasiit me in utlempiing a rescue. No lime j culumn, curled round under his old hat. His f.ice in- 
 was to bo lost, and, as wu formed a body of forty dieateJ nothing but benevolence, and the blosings of 
 young fellows, most of whom were older than myself, the peasantry audibly declared his active humanity, 
 we considered ourselves fully able to encounter the j As u physician, he was in general request, and while 
 troopers, who did not exceed that number. he resided in the country no old woman or quack got 
 
 The dragoons having to make acircuit of near three footing in the district, ^i.^ learning admiiied not of 
 mills, to avoid a neighboring b.)g, we had lime enough doubt, and the Catholic clergy were unanimous in re- 
 10 intercept them, and, ttccordin;;ly, wo set otfat a full j commending him pupils. But what mudc the doctor 
 
 speed, collecting such arms as we could in our pro- 
 gress. An old woman supplied me with a Spanish 
 gun, as long as a fishing-rod, and my companions suc- 
 ceeded in securing swords, pikes, &c. l)ur numbers, 
 too, were greatly increased, for I'aildy then, as well aa 
 now, loved fighting, and Imicd oppression. Kivers 
 and bog-holes were insnliicicnt to cool our zeal, and in 
 less than twenty minutes we had collected a score of 
 horses and cows on the road, wiiich the dragoons had 
 to pass. Arianging ourselves in the fields, on each 
 side, we awaited ihtir approach, and when they came, 
 a shot fired by me was the signal of attack. We made 
 shorl woik of it. About hiilf a dozen troopers fill, 
 when the commandant begged a truce, surrendered bis 
 prisoner, and mude me a present of the sword and pis- 
 tols which 'yet I wear.' 
 
 The fame of this exploit spread far and near, and 
 the whole country declared that I would one day be 
 more famous than any of my predecessors — a predic- 
 lioa which has been literally fulfilled. 
 
 It is but justice, however, to observe that the law 
 which hanged priests and transported schoolmasters 
 was then very seldom enforced, thanks to the interven- 
 tion of my family; but even the dread inspired by the 
 heroes of RocVglen could not preserve such an inno- 
 Taior at Ki./rei.ce .M Cartliy, who was obliged to leave 
 that part ol tlie couniiy, and commence an attack upon 
 ignoraace elseMubie. 
 
 C H A !■ r E U III. 
 
 ADDCCTION OF i SCHOOLMASTHK — ILLLS TIIATION OF 
 THE PENAL LAWt. 
 
 For some lime after the departure of poor Florence 
 we indulged in the hope that he might in a few months 
 return when the storm had blown over; but we were 
 disappointed, for the unfortunate man died of a broken 
 heart in less than two months from the time of his re- 
 moval from the delightful neighborhood of KockMen. 
 A pedagogue, qualified to supply his place was not 
 easily found, for we were determined to patronize no 
 master unless he was capable of teaching Greek and 
 Latin, these languages being then fashionable among 
 the Irish peasantry. After looking about us for some 
 time, we turned our eyes to a parish half a dozen miles 
 distant, which enjoyed the rare fcliciiy of a school- 
 master who was St once celebrated for instructing the 
 mind and healing the body, being an excellent classi- 
 cal scholar and physician of vast repuiation, his fame 
 having extended beyond the limits of the parish where 
 he lived — a proof of eminence which can be adduced 
 by few of those whose names occur in Scottish diplo- 
 mai. 
 
 This man, known by the name of Dr. M'Inery, was 
 one of the most singular characters I have ever known 
 and was regarded by his pupils as a philosophic mud- 
 man. His appearance was most repulsive, as he was 
 never known to undress himself, while the absence of 
 cleanliness left him subject to a disgusting cutaneous 
 disease, in which he prided himself, alleging it as an 
 axiom in physic, that the itch is a preventive against 
 contagion, i'erhaps he was right. The faculty should 
 look to it, for what a blessing if the music made by a 
 Scotch fiddle had the power to charm away the plauge 
 and typhus ! 
 
 Dr. M'Inery was in his fiftieth year when I first 
 ^new him, and hia image is yet before me, as he lued 
 
 an object of wonder was the mystery which he sedu- 
 lously threw over the former part of his life. He re- 
 sisted all inquiries respecting his (ttinily or connexions, 
 and though it was quite apparent that he was an 
 Irishman, none could tell of what county he was a 
 native. His creed, too, was dubious, for, he 
 never went to confession ; but, being looked upon as 
 ' cracked with the lurning,' he was never reproached 
 wilh a neglect of rtligious duties. 
 
 He had resided for about seven }oar8 at Ballyfear- 
 nngh, when the young fellows about Rockglen thought 
 it unreasonable that their neighbors should monopolize 
 so much wisdom; and, thinking that 'might consti- 
 tutes right,' they resolved that the tyros »f Ballyfaer- 
 
 CAPTAIN ROCK. 
 
 nagh should allow others to profit by the instruction 
 of him whose tuition they had so long enjoyed. Know- 
 ing that such a treasure as Dr. M'Inery would not be 
 tamely surrendered, they formed an expedition for the 
 purpose of carrying him off 'vi et armis; ' and as I 
 had already distinguished myself as a pedagogue liber- 
 ator, I was chosen by unanimous consent to head the 
 invading (orces. My chosen consisted of 30 young fel- 
 lows, who, on this occasion, evinced an extraordinary 
 love of education, and though, no doubt, there was 
 much of a sel(i-h feeling in the enterprise, yet it was 
 one which reflects great credit on their literary courage. 
 The roost-cock of Rockglen had proclaimed the solemn 
 hour of midnight before we took our departure for 
 Ballyfeamagh, and when we arrived there it was some 
 time before we discovered the doctor's residence, for 
 he had no settled habitation, leading, like most country 
 schoolmasters, a kind of a vagrant life, continually re- 
 moving from one house to onolher. This night he 
 had taken up his abode at the residence of a pupil, and 
 was not a little surprised when informed that we were 
 not iiidined to consult his interest or inclination, being 
 determined to compel submission to our wishes. He 
 made many protests against snch arbitrary proceed- 
 ings ; but, in spite of remonstrances, we seated him 
 upon his ebecp-skin saddle, and with three cheers 
 
 reni^tence was in vain, he seemed to enter into the 
 spirit of the thing, and jikid upon the honors paid 
 him duiiiig the j' urney. He rehiied miny anecdote! 
 of riaio, Socrates, aiid other [irdagogues among the 
 ancienis; but proicsled iliHt his reniling did not (unii>h 
 him with nn insionrc of the al.duciijn of a school- 
 mijster in the history of eiihcr Greece or Uomc. 
 
 Having deposited our prize at Kockglen, we com- 
 menced preparations against the attempt which we 
 knew would be made to recover the stolrn doctor, and, 
 as a necessary precauton, stationed ouiposts to watch 
 the aupcarance of the enemy. About twelve o'clock 
 word was brought me that the heroes of Ballyfcamot. h 
 were approaching, burning for revenge, and eager for 
 batilc. We received them warmly, and after a pro- 
 tracted contest of three hours, they retired, with the 
 loss of half a dozen arms, and probably as many legn. 
 My companions lauiled me lo the skies for the military 
 capacity I displayed on this occasion, and even the 
 defeated owned, like O'Regan after the battle of the 
 Boyne, that had they the enemy's captain, they should 
 have proved viclorions. 
 
 The docior soon beciime reconciled to his new sitna- 
 tion, for though the base and unnatural conduct of my 
 brother had depressed my fuiher iiiio poverty, yet 
 enough remained to bid a triond or stranger welcome. 
 The doctor's horse was well taken care of, and himself 
 comfortably lodged in a Utile room above the kitchen, 
 from which it was separated by a bundle. Here he 
 continued for three weeks, when, seeing no further at- 
 tempt at a rescue, we gave him his liberiy.and inducted 
 him into the professor's chair, left vacant by poor 
 Florence. Here, however, he was not destined to 
 continue long, for his former pupils renewed hostili- 
 ties, and a desultory warfare was carried on for aix 
 months. One day the heroes of Ballyfeamagh ioTeit- 
 ed the school, and a desperate engagement took place, 
 when the doctor, imprudently interfering between tba 
 billigerent parties, received a wound from the stab of 
 a pitchfork. The melancholy fact was no sooner known 
 than the horror it excited had the efiec: of immediately 
 terminating hostilities, the contending powers vieing 
 with each other in regret for the alarming accident. 
 Being instiimly removed to Rockglen, his wound WM 
 dressed; but he,, with too much occuracy, pronounced 
 it fatal. On the third day he put a sealed paper into 
 my hand — for I had become his favorite — and requested 
 of me to preserve it for his sake. ' It will,' said he, 
 'explain my extraordinary conduct, and if I mistake 
 not, awaken your sympathy for my misfortune. Death, 
 thank Heaven, is about so terminate a life of silent and 
 secret misery; and, that its detail might benefit others, 
 I request you will, after I have ceased to breath, make 
 the contents of that paper public' On the next day 
 an hemorrhage took place, and he soon after surren- 
 dered his soul into the hands of Him with whom I hope 
 he had previously made his peace. The day after I 
 saw him 'qnietly inurncd' I broke the seal of the pack- 
 age, and read as follows : — 
 
 ' Tranquility is at length within my reach, and the 
 remainder of my miserable life is likely to continue 
 undisturbed by my enemies. While, therefore, I have 
 opportunity and leisure, let me endeavor to exculpate 
 my character from the foul crime which is attached to 
 it, and leave behind me an apology for the greatest 
 error of my fife. 
 
 ' I was the oldest son of an Irish Catholic, who 
 descended from the chieftains of Tyrone, whose name 
 he bore. I was ^^baptized Henry Neil O'Donnel, and 
 my only brother, two years younger than I, was called 
 Hugh O'Donnel. My father had contrived to elude 
 the rapacity of government, and, through the kindnesi 
 of a neighboring Protestant, named Glennon, he re- 
 tained possession of his ancient patrimony. The re- 
 deeming qualiries of human nature are generally a good 
 security against despotic laws, for though the informer 
 was declared by act of parliament highly honorable, 
 and entitled to the property of such Catholics as he 
 brought to what was called justice, yet in a few in- 
 stances only were men found base enough to avail 
 
 commenced our progress towards Ro«kglen. The themselves of such iniquitous lawi, and hundreds of 
 doctor was a practical philosopher, and seeing that I the ' old reUgion* retained their possessioni notwilh 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 293 
 
 siaiulinj; tlieso proBiKate enactments. 
 * My father was one ot' thcfie, and as 
 his fortune was ample, lio liestowed 
 on his two sons an education suiieil 
 to their ranlc and prospects in life. 
 Beinjj under inany obligations to 
 Mr. Glennon, it followed that a 
 friendly intenourse existed lietween 
 the two families, the younger 
 branches of both being constanily 
 together. Youth is the season of in- 
 nocence and love, and, us our 
 neighitor's only slaughter was every 
 thing that could attract and retain 
 afr..'etion, it will not be wondered nt 
 that I whispered into her willing ear 
 the sentiments of an unsophisticated 
 mind. Caroline listened, and re- 
 turned my aflTection ; we pledged an 
 eternal attachment, and at eighteen 
 I ([uitted her for the Continent with 
 all the anguish of sn aident lover, 
 having first promised inviolal)le 
 fidelity, and marriage when I return- 
 ed. ' For six long years I continued 
 in the Austrian service, and, at the 
 conclusion of the campaign, hasten- 
 ed to redeem the pledge I had given. I liteialy met 
 my Caroline on the wings of love, and beheld, with 
 amazement, that her brow was clouded, while her 
 pallid countenance indicated some latent sorrow. As 
 she appeared, however, to rejoice in my presence, and 
 receive, without opposition, a renewal of my vows of 
 love, I attributed her melancholy to her anxiety during 
 my absence. In a little time she began to resume her 
 wonted cheerfulness, and as we talked of our approach- 
 ing union, the cup of haspiness seemed to overflow. 
 But, alas ! a jealous hand was protruded, and dashed 
 it from our lips. Thathand was my brother's ! He, it 
 appeared, had addressed Caroline during my absence 
 in Austria, and, though his suit was rejected, he con- 
 tinued his fulsome attentions, thinking to overcome, by 
 perseverance, the repugnance she felt towards him. 
 All this time he certainly knew nothing of the engage- 
 ments between us, and when he discovered that I was 
 his successful rival, revenge seemed to have taken instant 
 possession of his soul. He hastened to Dublin, read 
 his recantation, and, of course, became legally entitled 
 to the whole property of his father. The wretch who 
 disgraced religion dishonored human nature, he caused 
 his aged parent and family to be ejected from the home 
 of their ancestors, and flung them upon an unpitying 
 world, as if unworthy the protection of either law or 
 justice. 
 
 A follower of the family received us into his hut 
 until we should find an opportunity of embarking for 
 Spain — the hospitable asylum of expatriated Irishmen. 
 I felt on this occasion as a son and a brother ought to 
 feel; but I telt more for my Carolone than for myself 
 Her I should now part with forever, being no longer 
 in a condition to support her in that rank to which she 
 was entitled. I waited on her for the purpose of re 
 ■igning my pretensions, and, when I had stated my 
 reasons for doing so, her noble soul mounted into her 
 face, and, pointing to my sword, observed, 'The wo- 
 man who would not feel honored in being a soldier's 
 bride is unworthy the hand of O'Donncl.' The appeal 
 was irresistible; I Jclasped her to my heart, and prom- 
 ised to share my fate with hers. This resolution, 
 however, her father opposed, and we found ourselves 
 under the necessity of resorting to clandestine means of 
 procuring occasional interviews. During one of these, 
 at a short distince from her father's house, on a fine 
 summer's evening, a stranger made his appearance; it 
 was my detested brother 1 1 demanded his business; 
 he gave an ironical reply; then, drawing my sword, I 
 commanded him to depart; but, instead of obeying me, 
 he drew hii rapier, and, with a demoniac laugh, ex- 
 claimed, 'Now or never 1 This opportunity I have 
 long sought, and my revenge shall at length be satis- 
 tied.' He then made a thrust at me, which I forluna- 
 
 ST. LAWRENCE'S GATE, DROGHEDA. 
 
 tely parried, and had put myself in a posture of defence 
 ere he could renew his attack. Caroline, who had 
 hitherto remained stupified with a-stonishment, now 
 gave a wild cry, and rushed in between us. My 
 brother's sword, whether accidentally or designedly 1 
 know not, entered her side; with a scream, she fell upon 
 the ground. At that moment I thought the murderoas 
 act intentional, and, rushing like a fury upon the as- 
 sassin, I instantly disarmed him; and, oh ! my misera- 
 ble fate, thrust my weapon through his heart. 
 
 ' Dare 1 apologize ? No, reader I judge for yourself, 
 and say, ought my memory to be charged with the 
 fell crime of murder f The reeking blade had scarcely 
 been wet with the blood of an O'Donnel when I re- 
 pented the rash act; I cursed my fate, antJ wished the 
 ground to open and swallow me. With distracted 
 steps I hurried to my father, confessed what I had 
 done, and, by his advice, fled to Spain, where, hiding 
 myself in a college, I spent five years in the study of 
 medicine. 
 
 At the termination of this period, I returned to Ire- 
 land, when, horrid to relate, I first heard that my father 
 was executed for the supposed murder of Caroline.and 
 his son ! The miserable man, weiry of existence, and 
 anxious to stop pursuit after me, declared himself the 
 assasin; and, being found near the dead bodies, he was 
 tried and condemned. My cup of misery was now at 
 the full; life was a burden; yet, unwilling to loose it, 
 I put on the disguise I have ever since worn, and hav- 
 ing assumed another name, I continued a vagrant life 
 until I took up my abode at Ballyfearnagh, where I 
 hope to spend the remainder of my days.' 
 
 Here the MS. ended, and, as it contained a melan- 
 choly illustration of the penal statutes, I soon made it 
 public. I could not refuse to sympathize in the fate of 
 the unfortunate man, while I heartily cursed those laws 
 which deprived me also of opulence and rank through 
 a brother's baseness. 
 
 My next tutor was of a very different description; 
 and, when I have given his character, I shall detail the 
 history of my family, a knowledge of which is neces- 
 sary to the understanding of my own. 
 [To be Continued.] 
 
 ST. LAWRENCE'S CATE. 
 
 The town of Drogbeda was formerly enclosed by 
 high and massive walls, several portions of the ruins of 
 which are to bo seen in various directions. St. Law- 
 rence's Gate is in excellent preservation, and a good 
 specimen of the ancient building. The town is re- 
 markable for having been several times besieged from 
 1641 to 1G89, and for having been taken by Oliver 
 Cromwell, who, after an obstinate resistance, and hav- 
 ing been twice rcpnlscd, reduced the walls to their 
 
 present condition, and put the gover- 
 nor, Sir A. Aston, and all the in- 
 habitants to the sword. In 1649, the 
 utmost pains had been taken to 
 strengthen and furnish the place for 
 a vigorous and protracted defence; 
 but Cromwell, actuated by the tierce 
 and steady determination which char 
 acterized him, and sensible of the 
 advantage of promptitude and deci 
 sion, was not to be impeded by any 
 ordinary obstacle. Disdaining the 
 regular approaches and forms of a 
 siege, he thundered furiously for two 
 days against the walla with his great 
 guns, and having eifccttd a breach, 
 issued orders for a general assault. 
 The desperate valor of the assailant) 
 was encountered by the dcsperato 
 valor of the garrison, so that with 
 appaling havoc on both sides the 
 troops of Cromwell were twice re- 
 pulsed. But determined on conquest, 
 he led them in person a third time 
 to the breach, and with an intrepid, 
 steady, and impetuous charge, bear- 
 ing down all opposition, gained the 
 possession of the ground. In 1689, and the following 
 year, this town was garrisoned by James II., but was 
 given up to King William, without a struggle, after 
 his victory on the adjacent banks of the Boyne. 
 
 The circumstances attending the surrender of this 
 place on this occasion, are thus succinctly, yet satis- 
 factorily,stated by Mr. Harris. The day after the vic- 
 tory at the Boyne, the king sent Brigadier ' la Mel 
 loniere,' with a thousand horse, a party of foot, and 
 eight pieces of cannon, to summon Drogheda, where 
 the Irish had a great magazine, and a garrison Of thir- 
 teen hundred men, commanded by Lord Jveagh. The 
 governor at first seemed resolute to defend the place, 
 and received the summons with great contempt ; but 
 the king sending word, 'that if he was forced to bring 
 the cannon before the place, he must expect no quar- 
 ter;' his lordship, considering that King Jame's army 
 being defeated he could expect no relief, occepted of 
 the ofl'ered conditions, and marched out with only the 
 garrison and baggage, leaving all their arms and 
 stores. Colonel Cut's regiment took possession of the 
 place, which they found well stored with wine and 
 provisions, and took care to preserve the town from 
 violence.' — Life of William III. by Harris, vol. 3. pp. 
 98-9. 
 
 The corporation of Drogheda attained considerable 
 military distinction in the reign of Edward IV. In an 
 engagement which took place at Malpas bridge, the 
 mayor of Drogheda, at the head of five bundled 
 archers, and two hundred men armed with pole-axes, 
 assisted in the defeat of O'Reilly and his confeder- 
 ates, who had committed groat ravages in the county 
 of Louth. In commemoration of this signal piece 
 of service. King Edward gave the town of Drogheda 
 a sword, to be carried before the mayor, and the 
 sum of twenty pounds a year for its maintainanee. 
 
 The town of Drogheda is situated on the river 
 Boyne, by means of which vessels of one hundred 
 and fifty tons burthen are floated up to the bridge, 
 which crosses at the end of one of the principal 
 streets. The extension and improvements of Drog- 
 heda have been rapid within the last few years; the 
 jjrincipal street, as well as the new houses on the 
 quay, are substanial and handsome. It contains 
 abouteightcen thousand inhabitants, many of whom 
 are of considerable rcspectaliility. A very ex- 
 tensive trade, particularly in the export of corn and 
 provisions, and in the imimrt of many articles of 
 commerce for the interior of the country, is car- 
 ried on. The lower order.s, especially tho.sc who 
 reside in the vicinity of the town, still retain much 
 of the appearance and manners of the ancient Irish 
 — many of them c.inlinuing to make use of the Irish 
 language. The priory situated near St. Lawrence's 
 Gate is said to have been founded by the mayor 
 and citizens of the town, to whom it was granted 
 on the dissolution of r^■ligioll^ hnu^es tlioiigh Ii'_'l:;nd . 
 
294 
 
 IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 screwed on nt the end of the part which 19 held in 
 the hand. This he undid, and, to his extreme 
 amazement, out Unped a great black, creeping 
 insect, which in Ireland ia colled the 'dhawr dheul,' 
 and which ia universally allowed there to be the 
 first reptile that borea the coffins of the dead. Mr. 
 Lambert concluded at once that this insect was Old 
 Xick, and that if possession of him made Peter 
 Mulcahy a wonderful man at the flail, it would 
 make himself a wonderful man on horseback, lie 
 therefore picked up the insect, and put it in a hole in 
 the handle of his riding whip, which he made for it 
 with his knife, and then left the barn lest Peter 
 might catch him. Peter was greatly chagrined 
 when he returned, for he found that the devil had 
 left him, and that his flail was a very ordinary one 
 indeed. Mr. Lambert was not disappointed at his 
 expectations. No matter what kind of a horse he 
 rode, if he had the whip with him, ho was carried 
 Charles Lambert, of Crcg-a-Clare, in the county ^,;,jj ^■^^ greatest ease, in perfect safety, over the 
 of Galway, Ireland, was a very wealthy gentleman, ^^gj dangerous places, and at whatever speed he 
 He lived about fifty years ago. His estates brought | ,;).gj_ j„ the hunt, he outstripped all his com- 
 
 80N0. 
 
 Along lilt ttrcam of lift we row, 
 
 With couptnut iniuil; 
 Still llgliily touchlnn »s wc go, 
 
 Encli port we Hud. 
 The dullest spot w c carol by, 
 
 Witli Uugli niid lay; 
 And be it still, n itli »mlle or eigh— 
 
 Toucb, Buil away ! 
 
 We nerer dream that Bunny bourv 
 
 Were made to laf t ; 
 But kuuw, like them, that storms and sbowers 
 
 Must soon be past. 
 And thus springs pass and springs return ; 
 
 Joys come and flee — 
 And sober mortals laugb aud mourn — 
 
 Vi'e still arc tree! 
 
 THE RIDINC-WHIP WHICH HAD THE DEVIL 
 
 him in several thousands each year, and they do yet 
 to his descendants. To field sports he was greatly 
 addicted, llace horses, hunters, more than one 
 pack of hounds, an extensive deer-park, and a 
 proper number of coachmen, butlers, huntsmen, 
 and dog-boys, belonged to him. He was a dashing 
 horseman, a splendid shot, successful angler, and a 
 gentleman of great hospitality. When the sporting 
 leason came, his mansion was one of unusual 
 bustle, and all about nothing but sport, in its 
 TBrious departments of fishing, shooting feathered 
 game, and hunting the hare, the fox, and the stag. 
 Gentlemen from all parts of the country were at 
 Creg-a-Clare at the pleasant time, and the greatest 
 liberality and cleverness greeted and welcomed 
 each one of them. The wealth, and sport, and 
 hospitality of Lambert of Crcg were famous throug- 
 out the provinct . 
 
 Mr. Lambert was an extensive farmer, as well as 
 ft dashing sportsman. He cultivated each year 
 immense quantities of grain. This he did, not for 
 the love of lucre, but for the benefit of the poor, 
 vho were quite numerous in his neighborhood. 
 In those diys, threshing machines had not yet been 
 beard of jn Connaught. The flail was the instru- 
 ment used in the barns of that time in that quarter 
 of Ireland. It was Mr. Lambert's custom to give 
 out his threshing in piece work. There was a man 
 in the vicinity who used to deal with him quite 
 largely in this way. His name was Peter Slulcahy. 
 Peter was very expert with the instrument of his 
 profession. He could beat out, by himself, in one 
 day, any quantity of grain put into the barn for 
 him. This strange fact attracted a good deal of 
 attention, and, of course, Mr. Lambert could not 
 but be inquisitive about it, as well as any one 
 else. No one could explain it. I3ut it was 
 observed that Peter never allowed any one to handle 
 his flail, that he always took it home with him 
 •when going to his meals, and when retiring from his 
 day's toil. The conclusion arrived at, from this 
 carefulness about the flail, was, that in the flail was 
 the secret of his wonderful dexterity in threshing 
 out the whole contents of a bam by himself in the 
 course of a day. Mr. Lambert made this inference, 
 as well as his neighbor!), and, being as curious as 
 any of them, he resolved to get the flail into his 
 hands for examination. His plan to effect this was, 
 to invite Peter to dinner at Creg-a-Clare House,and 
 while eating it, to examine the implement, which, 
 he supposed, Peter would leave after him in the 
 barn, should the invitation be accepted. 
 
 This trick succeeded. Peter was proud of being 
 asked to dinner by the great man, and when he 
 went to it, he was too polite to encumber himself 
 ■with tbe flail. Fatal condescension ! In his 
 absence, Mr. Lambert proceeded to the bam, and 
 
 petitors by a dashing distance, and halted at the 
 most terrible jumps. On the race course he was 
 equally successful ; he always won. A cut from 
 his whip would make a cart-horse go faster than the 
 fleetest thorough-bred. His name soon became 
 famous in England as well as in Ireland. Before 
 long, however, he was disqualified from riding. 
 The notion that he had the devil to add speed to his 
 horses was the cause of this. In the course of a 
 short period after his disqualification, a match was 
 made between an English and an Irish horse of great 
 celebrity for a very large sum of money. The race 
 was to come off on the Curragh of Kildare. The 
 horse that won two out of three heats was to be the 
 winner. Charles Lambert was specially debarred 
 from ridii-g ; and the cash was to be handed over 
 at the end of the race. These were the points of 
 the contract. The point excluding Lambert, how- 
 ever, was not to be observed. The owner and 
 backers of the Irish horse, which was called 'Black 
 and all Black,' were determined to have the gentle- 
 man from Creg-a-Clare to ride. To effect this, 
 however, there was a good deal of difficulty, for 
 that person was very well known to all the gentle- 
 men of the opposite party. But they were full of 
 stratagem. The great stakes at issue filled them 
 with cunning. Mr. Lambert was willing to ride, 
 and their plan to enable him to do so by stealth was 
 this : on the day previous to the race, he was to 
 have several gentlemen with him at Creg-a-Clare, all 
 of whom he was, if possible, to send home at a late 
 hour of the night dead drunk, and to have them 
 hunt and dine with him on the following day. 
 Creg-a-Clare was more than one hundred miles 
 from the racing ground. 
 
 Along this road, several horses of first-rate mettle 
 were to be posted at short distances. These 
 horses Mr. Lambert was to ride, one by one, all the 
 way to the Curragh, after getting rid of his guests 
 in the manner mentioned. All this succeeded very 
 well. The day of the contest came, and Charles 
 Lambert was just in the nick of time, in his riding- 
 dress at the scales. He was soon weighed, was 
 correct in his weight, was soon mounted, and at 
 the starting-post, where he took particular care not 
 to come too close to his opponent, who knew him 
 well. The word ' away," was given, and off' they 
 flew ; Lambert came in by a couple of stretches. 
 Wnen the heat was over Mr. Lambert kept among 
 his friends alone. The second heat was announced 
 in due time, and off' they went like the wind. Lam- 
 bert won this heat by such a distance that before 
 his competitor was weighed, he was quite a long 
 way on the road home to Creg-a-Clare, to fulfill his 
 engagimcnt of the preceding day. It seems that, 
 during this heat, the English rider recognized Lam- 
 bert, for as soon as he came in, he swore most 
 
 was looked for by the English party. A man to 
 represent him was produced, but the suspicion that 
 I-ambert rode only got the stronger. An investiga- 
 tion was therefore! made, but to no avail. It was 
 morally impossible that Charles Lambert, a gentle- 
 man who hunted on his own grounds, which were 
 more than a hundred miles distant from the Cur- 
 ragh, on the day before the race, which a number of 
 sportsmen, whom he kept for dinner after the chase, 
 and whom he sent home drunk at a late hour at 
 night, and who had the same gentlemen to hunt, 
 dine, and drink with him on the very day of the 
 race, could have ridden in the race. The English 
 had, therefore, to pay the bets. 
 
 The trick leaked out after some time; but the 
 English gained nothing by its detection. Irish 
 sportsmen of those days soon got rid of their win- 
 nings, and going to law with them was nonsense. 
 
 Such is a correct account of one of th": most 
 noted facts in Irish sportsmanship. It is hard to 
 secure credibility fur it in America, but it is ad- 
 mitted in Ireland. One thing is certain, Charles 
 Lambert was disqualified as a rider, and he rode in 
 the race in question, and under the circumstances 
 here mentioned. Whether he had the devil with 
 him or not, is the point. But there is nothing in it 
 but — improbability. 
 
 made out the flail. In his examination of it, he lustily that he must have ridden against him. This, 
 w thit t'tti.e wii a pijci of whita wood nic'^^y of course, started suspicion, and the wiiming rider 
 
 ENGLISH PRICES AND LABOR IN THE SIX- 
 TEENTH CENTURY. 
 
 Wheat, the price of which necessarily varied, aver- 
 aged in the middle of the fourteenth century ten pence 
 the bushel, barely averaging at the same time three 
 shillings the quarter. With wheat the fluctuation wag 
 excessive ; a table of its possible variations describes 
 it as ranging from eighteen pence the quarter to twen- 
 ty shillings, the average, however, being six and 
 eight pence. When the price was above this sum, the 
 merchants might import to bring it down ; when it 
 was below this price, the farmers were allowed to ex- 
 port to the foreign markets, and the same average con- 
 tinued to hold, with no perceptible tendency to a rise, 
 till the close of the reign of Elizabeth. 
 
 Beef and pork were a half penny per pound ; mntton 
 was three farthings. They were fixed at these prices 
 by the 3d of the 24lh of Henry Vllt. But this act 
 was unpopular both with buyers and with stllers. The 
 old practice had been to sell in the gross, and under 
 that arrangement the rates had been generally lower. 
 Stowe says—' It was this year enacted that butchers 
 should sell their beef and mutton by weight— beef for 
 a half penny the jiound, and mutton for three farthings, 
 which being devised for the great commodity of the 
 realm (as it was thought j, hath proved otherwise, for 
 at that time fat oxen were sold for six and twenty shit- 
 lings and eight pence the pound ; fat wethers for three 
 shillings and four pence the piece ; fat calves at a like 
 price, and fut lambs for twelve pence. The butchers 
 of London sold penny pisces of beet for the relief of 
 the poor, every piece two pounds and a half, sometimes 
 thiee pounds for a penny, and thirteen and sometimes 
 fourteen of these pices for twelve pence ; mutton eight 
 penci the quarter, and an under weight of beef for four 
 shillings and eight pence.' 
 
 The act was repealed in consequence of the com- 
 plaints against it ; but the prices never fell again to 
 what ihcy had been, although beef sold in the gross 
 could still be had for a half penny per pound in 15'0. 
 
 Strong beer, such as we now buy for eighteen pence 
 a gallon, was then a penny a gallon, and table beer 
 less thao a half penny. 
 
 French and Spanish wines were eight pence the gtd- 
 lon. Spanish and Portuguese wines a shilling. This 
 was the highest price at which the best wines might bo 
 sold, and if there was any fault in quclity or quantity, 
 the dealers forfeited four times the amount. 
 
 Kent, another important consideration, cannot be 
 fixed so accurately, for parliament did not interfere 
 with it. Here, however, we are not without very tol- 
 erable informauon. ' My father,' says Latimer, ' was 
 a yeoman, and had no lands of his own ; only he had 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 295 
 
 a farm of ihiee or four pounds by the year at the ut- 
 termost, and hereupon ho tilled so much as kept half a 
 dozon men. Ko had walk for a hundred sheep, and 
 my mother milk' d thirty kinu. Ho was able, and did 
 find the kinj; a harness, with himself ami his horso. I 
 remember that I buckUd on his harness when ho went 
 to Blackheath lield. He kept me to school, or olso I 
 had not been able to have preached before tlio king's 
 majesty now. He married my sisters with five pounds 
 or twenty nobles each, having brought them up in 
 godliness and fear of God. He kept hospitality for 
 his poor neighbors, and somo alms ho gave to thepoor ; 
 and all this he did of the said farm.' 
 
 If ' three or four pounds at the uttermost ' was the 
 rent of a farm yielding such results, the rent of labor- 
 ers' cottages is not likely to have been considerable. I 
 am below the truth, therefore, with this scale of prices, 
 in assuming the penny in terms of a laborer's necessi- 
 ties to have been equal in the reign of Henry VHI. to 
 the present shilling. For a penny at the time of 
 which I write, the laborer could buy more bread, beef, 
 beer and wine — he could do more towards finding 
 lodging for himself and his family — than the laborer 
 of the nineteenth century can for a shilling. I do not 
 see that this admits of question. 
 
 Turning, then, to the table of wages, it will be easy 
 to ascertain his position. By the 3d of the 6th of 
 Henry VIH. it was enacted that master carpenters, 
 masons, bricklayers, tillers, plumbers, glaziers, joiners, 
 and other employers of such skilled workmen, should 
 give to each of their journeymen, if no meat or drink 
 was allowed, six pence a day for half the year, five 
 pence a day for the other half, or five pence halfpenny 
 for the yearly average. The common laborers were 
 to receive four pence a day for half the year ; for the 
 remaining half, three pence. In the harvest months 
 they were allowed to work by the piece, and might 
 earn considerably more, so that, in fact — and this was 
 the rate at which their wages were usually estimated — 
 the day laborer received, on an average, four pence a 
 day for the whole year. 
 
 Nor was he in danger, except by his own fault or by 
 unusual accident, of being thrown out of employ, for 
 he was engaged by cantract for not less than a year, 
 and could not be dismissed before his terra had ex- 
 pired, unless some gross misconduct could be proved 
 against him before two magistrates. Allowing a de- 
 duction of one day in the week for a saint's day or a 
 holiday, he received, therefore, steadily and regularly, 
 it well conducted, an equivalent of twenty shillings a 
 week — twenty shillings a week and a holiday — and this 
 is far from being a fall account of his advantages. 
 
 In most parishes, if not in all, there were large 
 ranges of common and unenclosed forest land, which 
 furnished his fuel to him gratis, where pigs might 
 ran^e, and ducks and geese; where, if he could afford 
 a cow, he was in no danger of being unable to feed it; 
 and so important was this privilege considered, that 
 when the commons began to be largely enclosed, par- 
 liament insisted that the working man should not be 
 without some piece of ground on which he could em- 
 ploy his own and his family's industry. By the 7th of 
 the 21st of Elizabeth, it was ordered that no cottage 
 should be built for residence without four acres of land, 
 at lowest, being attached to it for the sole use of the oc- 
 capams of such cottage. 
 
 ANECDOTEOF CILBEFtT STUART. 
 
 A party travelling in England, of whom Stuart was 
 one, affords the following story : — 
 
 ' After blazing away in his dramatic manner, his 
 companions were very desirous to know who and what 
 he was, for whatever Doctor Franklin may have said 
 a century ago of the question-asking propensity of his 
 countrymen, I never noticed so much of that kind of 
 travelling curiosity in New England as in Britain. On 
 the contrary, I am certain that we in the United 
 States are remarkably free from that sort of travelling 
 importunateness. To the round-about question, to 
 Rnd out his calling or profession-^ 
 I Mr. Stuart answered with a grave face, and serious 
 one, that he sometimes diessed gentlemens' and la- 
 
 dies' hair (at that time the high craped pomatumed 
 hiiir was all the fashionj ' You are a huir-dresser, 
 then V ' What !' said be, ' do you take mo for a bar- 
 ber V ' I beg your pardon, sir, but I inferred it from 
 what you said. If I mistook you, may I take the 
 liberty to ask what you are. then V ' Why I some- 
 times brush a gentleman's coat, or hat, and sometimes 
 adjust a cravat.' ' 0, you are a valet, then, to some 
 nobleman V ' A valet I Indeed, sir, I am not. I 
 am not a servant — to he sure I make coats and waist- 
 coats for gentleman.' ' Oh ! you are a tailor 1' 'Tailor! 
 do I look like a tailor "! I'll assure, I rever han- 
 dled a goose, other than a roasted one.' By this time 
 they were all in a roar. ' What the devil are you 
 then ?' said one. I'll tell you,' said Stuart. 'Be as- 
 sured all I have said is literally true. I dress hair, 
 brush hats and coats, adjust a cravet, and make coats, 
 waistcoats, and breeches, and likewise boots and shoes 
 at your service.' ' Oh ho ! a boot and shoemaker after 
 all !' ' Guess again, gentleman ; I never handled a 
 boot or shoe but for ray own feet and legs ; yet all I 
 have told you is true.' ' We may as well give up 
 guessing.' After checking his laughter, and pumping 
 up a fresh flow of spirits by a large pinch of snuff, he 
 said to them, very gravely, ' Now, gentlemen, I will 
 not play the fool with you any longer, but tell you 
 upon my honor, as a gentleman, my bona fide profes- 
 sion. I get ray bread by making faces.' He then 
 screwed his countenance, and twisted the lineaments of 
 his visage, in a manner such as Samuel Foote or Chas. 
 Matthews might have envied. When ' his compan- 
 ions, after loud peals of laughter, had composed them- 
 selves, each took credit to himself for having ' all the 
 while suspected that the gentleman belonged to the 
 theatre,' and they all knew that he must be a come- 
 dian by profession ; when, to their utter surprise, he 
 assured them that he was never on the stage, and very 
 rarely saw the inside of a play-house, or any similar 
 place of amusement. They now all looked at each 
 other with astonishment. 
 
 Before parting, Stuart said to his eompanions, ' Gen- 
 tlemen, you will find that all I have said of my various 
 employments is comprised in these tew words ; I am 
 a portrait painter. If you will call at John Palmer's, 
 York-Buildings, Loudon, where I shall be ready and 
 willing to brush you a coat or hat, dress your hair, 
 a-la-mode, supply you, if in need, with a wig of any 
 fashion or dimensions, accommodate you with boots 
 or shoes, give you ruffles or cravats, and make faces 
 for you.' 
 
 ' While taking a parting glass at the inn, they beg- 
 ged leave to enquire of their pleasant companion, in 
 what part of England he was born ; he told them he 
 was not born in Englaad, Wales, Ireland, or Scotland. 
 Here was another puzzle for John Bull. ' Where, 
 then V ' I was born at Narraginset.' ' Where's that V 
 ' Six miles from Pottawoone, and ten miles from Pop- 
 pasquash, and about four miles west of Connonicut, 
 and not far from the spot where the famous battle with 
 the warlike Pcquots was fought.' 'In what part of 
 the East Indies, is that sir V ' East Indies, my dear 
 sir ! it is ia the state of Rhode Island, between Massa- 
 chusetts and Connecticut river.' This was all Greek 
 to his companions, and he left them to study a new 
 lesson of geography, affording another instance of the 
 ignorance of islanders, respecting men of geniu-;, 
 whose vernacular tongne is the same with that of B.i 
 con, Newton, and Locke, Shakspeare, Milton, and 
 Pope.' 
 
 ENGLAND AND RUSSIA. 
 
 The first intercourBC between Ilussiaand England 
 took place in the year \fifjl, when the sceptre was 
 held by the strong hand of Elizabeth. Some Eng- 
 lishmen who had sailed on a voyage of discovery, 
 landed, by chance, on the shores of the White Sea, 
 where the port of Archangel now stands. The na- 
 tives received them with much kindness, and trans- 
 mited them to the Emperor in so pleasing an account 
 of their new friends, that he requested them to come 
 to his court, when he declared himself so greatly 
 pleased with the accomplished strangers as to re- 
 solve to give every encouragement to English com- 
 merce, that his subjects might reap the advantage 
 of intercourse with a polished nation. 
 
 He expressed the highest esteem for Queen Eliza- 
 beth, and requested, by his ambassador, that 
 should the ingratitude of his subjects over compel 
 him to leave Russia, she would grant him an asy- 
 lum in her dominions ! 
 
 In consequence of this apparently accidental 
 communication, England first engaged in a trade 
 with Russia ; and shortly after a company of Rus- 
 sia merchants was establishh in London. 
 
 Civil and social improvement for a time kept 
 pace in Russia with the progress of its arms. Th"; 
 laws were revised ; the grasping demands of the 
 clergy restrained, and the morals of the nation 
 improved by mild but decisive restrictions. 
 
 Such were the fruits of Anastasia's iniiuenee, 
 which procured repeated audiences for the wise and 
 virtuous Sylvester. But death too early deprived 
 the land of that benign influence, and with the ami- 
 able Princess called the temporary improvement 
 in the character of her husband. It seemed 
 as if from the moment of his loss he was actuated 
 by the base advice of an unworthy bishop, who had 
 been banished the court on account of his crimes, 
 and sought, by flattering the wicked inclinations of 
 Iiis sovereign, to regain his position there. 
 
 'If you wish to be a sovereign,' said the prelate, 
 ' never seek a counsellor wiser than yourself, and 
 never ask advice from any one. He who begins by 
 advising his prince, is certain to end by ruling him.' 
 The jealous nature of Ivan was gratified, and 
 kissing the old man's hand in a transport of grati- 
 tude, he exclaimed — 
 
 ' My own father could not have spoken more 
 wisely !' 
 
 His best counsellor, his amiable Anastasia, he 
 had lost after thirteen years of married happiness, 
 and from that period, fatal for his country, the 
 chronicle of his reign exhibits a detail of crime at 
 the relation of which the mind grows sick. One of 
 his historians charitably supposes him a lunatic 
 but there are too many proofs that his complicated 
 guilt was the result of ungoverned passions and a 
 deliberate love of sanguinary violence. 
 
 Those who Live in Glass Houses should not 
 Timow Sto.nes. — In the reign of James 1., the 
 Scotch adventurers who eamc over with that mon- 
 arch were greatly annoyed by persons breaking the 
 windows of their houses ; and among the instiga- 
 tors was Buckingham, the Court favorite, who 
 lived in a house in St. Martin's Fields, which, from 
 its great number of windows, was termed the 'Glass 
 House.' Now, the Scotchmen, in retaliation, broke 
 the windows of Buckingham's mansion. The cour- 
 tier complained to the king, to whom the Scotch 
 had previously applied, and the monarch replied to 
 Buckingham, ''rhoso who live in glass hou.'-cs, 
 Steenie, should be careful how they throw stones,' 
 whence arose the common saying. 
 
 A Great Kindness. — The royal family (IIGI) 
 run loose about the world, and people did not know 
 how to treat them, nor they how to be treated. We 
 have heard no bad story of the Duke of York. When 
 he was at Southampton, in the summer, there was a 
 clergyman in the neighborhood with two very hand- 
 some daughters. He soon had wind of them, ndo 
 dropped in for some rea-on or other ; came again and 
 again, and grew familiar (.nough lo cut a bone of 
 their mutton. At la-;t he said to the father, ' Miss 
 
 leads a mighty confined life here, always at 
 
 home; why don't you let one of them go and take an 
 airing with me in my chaise ?' ' Ah, sir,' said the 
 parson, ' do bat loiik at them — a couple of hale, fresh- 
 colored, hearty wenches ; they need no airing — they 
 are well enough. But there is their mother, poor wo- 
 man, has been in a declining way many years ; if your 
 royal highness would give her an airing now and 
 then it would be doing us n great kindness, indeed !' 
 
 IIkad ok Tah,. — Why is a lijrse ball way through 
 a gate like a half penny ? H-cuuse there's a huad oa 
 one side and a tail on the other. 
 
21)6 
 
 imsn .MISCELLANY. 
 
 O L D C O U R T , C . W 1 C K L O W . 
 OLD COURT. j at the most, present at the time, and the little room 
 
 In the reign of Henry TI., Sir Thomas Mulso, | could not have contained as many more ; yet it was 
 ■n English knight, obtained a grant of a district j to my panic struck imagination, as if I were the 
 of land in the territory of the O'Tools, now the central object in nature, and assembled millions 
 county of Wicklow, then called the Marshes of the gazing upon me in breathless expectation. I became 
 county of Dublin, on condition of reducing it to a dismayed and dumb ; my friends cried ' hear him, 
 state of order and obedience to the English gorcm- [ hear him ;' but there was nothing to hear. My lips, 
 ment. He accordingly took possession, by force of j indeed, went through the pantomime of articula- 
 Brms, and drove theO'Toolsfrom their strongholds, j tion, but I was like the unfortunate fiddler at the 
 and built a castle and town called Mulso's Court, j fair, who, upon going to strike up the solo which 
 
 It is said he was killed in a skirmish with the Irish, 
 and his tollowers were expelled from the country. 
 It continued in the possession of the Irish till the 
 time of Charles II., when it was gran'cd to Richard 
 Edwards, Esq., a Welsh gentleman, whose des- 
 cendants still remain it, by the name of Old Court. 
 
 CURRAN'8 ACCOUNT OF HIS FIRST SPEECH. 
 
 One day, after dinner, an acquaintance of his, in 
 ■peaking of his eloquence, observed to Curran that 
 it must have been bom with him. ■ Indeed, my 
 dear sir," replied Curran, ' it was not ; it was bom 
 three and twenty years and some months after me, 
 and if you are satisfied to listen to a dull historian, 
 you shall have the history of its activity. When I 
 was at the temple, a few of us formed a little debat- 
 ing club — poor Apjohn, and Duhigg, and the rest 
 of them ; they have all disappeared from the stage. 
 Upon the first night of our assembling, 1 attended, 
 my foolish heart throbbing with the anticipated 
 honor of being styled ' the learned member who 
 opened the debate,' or ' the very eloquent gentle- 
 
 was to ravish every ear, discovered that an enemy 
 had maliciously soaped his bow. So you see, sir, 
 it was not bom with me. However, though my 
 friends, even Apjohn, despaired of me, the ' cacce- 
 thes loquenai' wos not to be subdued without a 
 struggle. I was for the present silenced; but I still 
 attended our meetings with the most laudible reg- 
 ularity, and even ventured to accompany the others 
 to a more ambitious theatre, ' The Devils of Temple 
 bar,' where, truly, I may say, that many a time the 
 devils own work was going forward. Here, warned 
 by fatal experience that a man's powers may be 
 overstrained, I at first confined myself to a simple 
 'aye,' or 'no,' and by dint of practice and encour- 
 agement, brought my tongue to recite those magi- 
 cal elements of parliamentary eloquence, ' with 
 sound emphasis iind good discretion,' so that, in a 
 short time, I had completed my education for the 
 Irish senate. Such was my state — a popular thrjb 
 jnst beginning to revisit my heart, when a long ex- 
 pected remittance arrived from Newmarket. Ap- 
 john dined with me that day, and when the leg of 
 mutton, or rather the bone, was removed, we offered 
 
 man who just sat down.' All the day the coming 
 •cene had been flitting before my fancy and cajoling ' up the libation of an additional glass of punch ' for 
 it ; my ear had already caught the glorious melody , the health and length of days of that kind mother 
 of ' hear him, hear him." Already I was practising who remembered the necessities of her absent child.' 
 how to steal a cunning, sidelong glance at the tear I In the evening, we repaired to ' The Devils.' One 
 of generous approbation bubbling in the eyes of my I of them was upon his legs ; a fellow of whom it 
 little auditory. My mind was »tored with about a was impossible to decide whether he was most dis- 
 folio volume of matter, but it was like a book \?ant- tinguishei by the filth of his person, or the flip- 
 ing the preface, and so, fur want of a preface to begin paney of his tongue ; just such another as the great 
 with, the volume was never published. I stood up, | Harry Flood, our talented countryman, would have 
 trembling through every fibre ; but remembering i called ' the highly gifted gentleman with th« dirty 
 
 as he would with some nobleman, ' his very dear 
 friend,' behind his back, who, if present, would in- 
 dignantly repel the imputation of so insulting an 
 intimacy. He descanted upon Demosthenes, the 
 glory of the Knman Porum ; that Tully was the 
 eontemporarj' and rival of Cicero, and in the short 
 space of one half hour, transported the straits of 
 Marathon three several times to the plains of Ther- 
 mopylrc. Thinking I had a right to know some- 
 thing of these matters, I looked at him with sur- 
 prise, and whether it was the money in my pocket, 
 or my classical chivalry, or most probably the sup- 
 plemental tumbler of punch, that gave my face • 
 smirk of saucy confidence, when our eyes met, 
 there was something like a wager of battle in mine, 
 upon which the erudite gentleman instantly changed 
 his invective against me, and concluded by a few 
 words of friendly counsel (horresco referens) to 
 ' orator mum,' who he doubted not possesied won- 
 derful talent for eloquence, although he would 
 recommend him to show it in future by some more 
 popular method than silence. I followed his advice, 
 and I believe not entirely without effect, for, when 
 upon sitting down, I whispered my friend ' that I 
 hoped he did not think my dirty antagonist had got 
 clean off.' 
 
 'On the contrary, my dear fellow,' said he, 'every 
 one around me is declaring that it is the first time 
 they ever saw him so well dressed.' 
 
 The speech which Mr. Curran made upon this 
 occasion was immediately followed by a more auh- 
 stantial reward than the applauses of his hearers 
 The debate was no sooner closed than the president 
 of the society despatched his secretary to the el' - 
 quent stranger, to solicit the honor of his company 
 to partake of a cold collation, which proved to coi - 
 sist of bread, cheese, and porter ; but the public 
 motives of the invitation rendered it to the guejt 
 the most delicious supper that he had ever taste i. 
 
 that, in this circumstance, I was but imitating 
 Tully, I teok courage, and had actually proceeded 
 as far as ' Mr. Chairman,' when, to my utter aston- 
 iahmcnt and terror, I perceived that every eye was 
 
 cravat and greasy pantaloons.' I found this learned 
 person in the act of calumniating chronology by the 
 most preposterous anachronisms, and (as I believe 
 I shortly afterwards told him), traducing the illus- 
 
 rivetted upon me. There wer" only six or seven, ' trious dead, by affecting a confidential intercourse. 
 
 TuuE.— A cobbler, at Leyden, who used to attend 
 the public disputations held at the academy, was 
 once asked if he understood Latin. 
 
 • No,' replied the mechanic ; ' but I know who if 
 wrong in '.he argument.' 
 
 ' How ":' 
 
 ' Why, by seeing who is angry first.' 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 297 
 
 IRISH MISCELLANY ' 
 
 TUOMAS O NEILL .... PUHLTailER AND PnOPMIETOR. 
 
 BOSTON, SATURDAY, DECEMBER 18, ISftS. 
 
 THE PRESIDENT'S MESSAGE. 
 
 Thi» document, at oil times important, and at 
 each successive meeting of Congress regarded with 
 more and more importance, is now before the peo- 
 ple. The deyelopment of our internal resources and 
 the growing demands of an extraordinary and pro- 
 g'-essive people make it necessary that such a state 
 paper should be a concise expose of everything in 
 relation to the interests of the nation. However 
 we may rejoice over the great inherent value of our 
 mineral productions, the great unworked resources 
 of our internal seas,theyct infantile attempts at man- 
 ufacture — our capacity in every artery of life, which 
 only requires years to develop and mature — all arc 
 yet of a secondary importance to our foreign rela- 
 tions, or the policy which governs our conduct in 
 connection with other powers. 
 
 Our system of government, to us a glorious and 
 unmistakable fact, is looked upon by the monarchies 
 of Europe as a problem ; one, in fact, which may 
 possibly succeed, but is not likely to, and they wait 
 ■with anxiety to see a national collapse. Every street 
 fight, election riot, political excitement, or even 
 every difference of opinion, is so much evidence 
 upon which their fancy feeds, and is also food for 
 the hope that a people's government may not suc- 
 ceed. This anxiety foi our political death (and of 
 which there is no present appearance) very often 
 causes them to fret, and fume, and threaten, and 
 occasionally leads them to acts and words, and to 
 take positions, which require the utmost sagacity of 
 the statesman to watch. 
 
 To the subject of our foreign relations, we would 
 especially call attention, and we doubt not but the 
 whole country will endorse the views of the Presi- 
 dent, and sustain them. He says of Spain ; — 
 
 AVith Spain our relations remain in an unsatis- 
 factory condition. In my message of December 
 last I informed you that our envoy extraordinary 
 and minister plenipotentiary to Madrid had asked 
 for his recall, and it was my purpose to send out a 
 new minister to that court, with special instructions 
 on all questions pending between the two govern- 
 ments, and with a determination to have them 
 speedily and amicably adjusted, if that were possi- 
 ble. This purpose has hitherto been defeated by 
 causes which I need not enumerate. 
 
 The mission to Spain has been entrusted to a 
 distinguished citizen of Kentucky, who will pro- 
 ceed to Madrid without delay, and make another 
 and a final attempt to obtain justice from that gov- 
 ernment. 
 
 Spanish officials, under the direct control of the 
 Captain General of Cuba, have insulted our national 
 flag, and in repeated instances have, from time to 
 time, inflicted injuries on the persons and property 
 of our citizens. These have given birth to numer- 
 ous claims upon the Spanish government, the 
 merits of which have been ably discussed for a series 
 of years, by our successive diplomatic representa- 
 tives. Notwithstanding this, we have not yet 
 arrived at a practical result in any single instance, 
 unless we may except the case of the Black 
 Warrior. 
 
 It has been made known to the world, by my 
 predecessors, that the United States have, on seve- 
 ral occasions, endeavored to acquire Cuba from 
 Spain, by honorable negotiation. If this were ac- 
 complished, the last relic of the African slave trade 
 would instantly disappear. We would not, if we 
 could, acquire Cuba in any other manner. This is 
 due to our national character. All the territory 
 which we have acquired, since the origin of the 
 government, has been by fair purchase, from France, 
 Spain and Mexico, or by the free and voluntary act 
 of the independent state of Texas, in blending her 
 destinies with our own. This course we shall ever 
 pursue, unless circumstances should occur which 
 we do not now anticipate, rendering a departure 
 from it clearly justihabJe, under the imperative and 
 overruling law of self-preservation. 
 
 The island of Cuba, from its geographical posi- 
 
 tion, commands the mouth of the Mississippi and 
 its immense and annually increasing trade, foreign 
 and coastwise, from the valley of that noble river, 
 now embracing half the sovereign states of the 
 X^nion. With that island under the dominion of a 
 distant foreign power, this trade, of vital impor- 
 tance to these States, is exposed to the danger of 
 being destroyed in time of war, and it has hitherto 
 been subjected to perpetual injury and annoy- 
 ance in time of peace. Our rclali(ms with Spain, 
 which ought to be of the most friendly character, 
 must always be placed in jeopardy, whilst the ex- 
 isting colonial government over the island shall re- 
 main in its present condition. 
 
 Whilst the possession of the island would be' of 
 vast importance to the United States, its value to 
 Spain is, comparatively, unimportant. Such was 
 the relative situation of the parties, when the great 
 Napoleon transferred Louisiana to the United States. 
 Jealous, as he ever was, of the national honor and 
 interests of France, no person throughout the world 
 has imputed blame to him for accepting a pecuniary 
 equivalent for this cession. 
 
 With or without purchase, Cuba, of necessity, 
 must belong to the United States, and if Spain 
 would throw away her ancient pride, and exercise 
 a little common sense, she would sell that which is 
 now, by right, her's to sell, but must eventually, 
 sooner or later, belong to the United States. 
 
 He says of Mexico : — 
 
 Mexico has been in a state of constant revolution, 
 almost ever since it achieved its independence. One 
 military leader after anotlier has unsurped the govern- 
 ment inrapid succession, and the various constitutions, 
 from time to time adopted, have been set at naught 
 almost as soon as they were proclaimed. The succes- 
 sive governments have alf'orded no adequate protection 
 either to Mexican citizens or foreign residents against 
 lawlsss violence. Heretofore, a seizure of the capital 
 by a military chieftain has been generally followed by 
 at least the nominal submission of the country to his 
 lule for a brief period but it is not so at the present crisis 
 of Mexican affairs. A civil war has been raging for some 
 time throughout the republic, between the central gov- 
 ernment at the city of Mexico, which has endeavortd 
 to subvert the constitution last framed by military 
 power, and those who maintain authority of that con- 
 stitution. The antagonist parties each hold possession 
 oMifferent States of the republic, and the fortunes 
 of war are constantly changing. Meanwhile, the most 
 reprehensible means have been employed by both par- 
 ties to extort money from foreigner.'*, as well as natives 
 to carry on this ruinous contest. The truth is that 
 this fine country, blessed with a productive soil and a 
 benign climate, has been reduced by civil dissension to 
 a condition of almost hopelessi anarchy and imbecility. 
 It would be vain for this government to attempt to 
 enforce payment in money of the claims of American 
 citizens, now amounting to more than ten millions 
 dollars, against Mexico, because she is destitute of all 
 pecuniary means to satisfy these demands. 
 
 Our late ministet was furnished with ample powers 
 and instructions for the adjustment of all pending 
 questions with the central government of Mexico, and 
 he performed his duty with zeal and ability. The 
 claims of our citizens, some of them arising out of a 
 violation of an express provision of the treaty of Gua- 
 dalupe Hidalgo, and others from gross injuries to 
 persons as well as property, have remained unredressed 
 and even unnoticed. Remonstrances against these 
 grievances have been addressed without effect to that 
 government. Meantime, in various pnrts of the repub- 
 lic instances have been numerous of the murder, im- 
 prisonment and plunder of our citizens, by different 
 parties claiming and excercising a local jurisdiction ; 
 bu-, the central government, though repeatedly urged 
 thereto, have made no effort either to punish the auth- 
 ors of these outrages, or to prevent their recurrence. 
 No Americanjcitizen|can nowjvisit Mexico on lawful bu- 
 siness without imminent danger to his person and pro- 
 perty. There is no adequate protection to either ; and 
 in this respect, our treaty with that republic is almost 
 a dead letter. 
 
 ***** 
 
 Abundant cause now undoubtedly exist for a rasort 
 to hostilities against the government still holding pos- 
 session of the capital. Should they succeed in sub- 
 duing the constitutional forces, all reasonable hope 
 will then have expired of a peaceful settlement of our 
 difhcidiies. 
 
 With regard to Central America he says ; — 
 
 The political condition of the narrow isMimus of Cen- 
 tral America through which transit routes pass between 
 the Atlantic and l*acitic oceans, presents a gu*>ject of 
 deep interest to all commercial nations. It is over 
 these transits that a large proportion of the trade and 
 travel between the EuroiJtan »nd Asiatic continents is 
 desiineil to pass. To the United States these routes 
 are of incalculable importance, as a meana of comuju- 
 nicaiiou between their Allaniic and Pacific pu^se^nious. 
 
 The latter now extend throughout seventeen degrees 
 of latitude on the Pacific coast, embracing the impor- 
 tant State of Ciilifornia, and the flourishing Territories 
 of Ore^'on and Washington. All commercial nations, 
 therefore, have a deep and direct interest that these 
 communications shall be rendered secure from inter- 
 ruption. Il'atiarm of the sea. connecting the two 
 oceans, penetrated Nicaragua and Costo Rica, it could 
 not he pretended that these States would have the 
 right to arrest or retard its navigation to the injnry of 
 other nations. 1 he transit by land over this narrow 
 isthmus occupies nearly the same position. It is a 
 highway in which they themselrcs have little interest, 
 when compared with the vast interests of the rest of 
 the world. Whilst their rights of sovereignty ought to 
 he respected, it is the duty of other nations to rcfiuiro 
 that this important passage shall not be interrupted 
 by the civil wars and revolutionary outbreaks which 
 have so frequently occurred in that region. The stake 
 is too important to be left at the mercy of rival com- 
 panies, claiming to hold conflicting contracts witti 
 Nicaragua. 
 
 The commerce of other nations is not to stand still 
 and await the arljuslment of such petty controversies. 
 The government of the United States expect no more 
 than this, and they will not be satisfied with less. 
 They would not, if they could, derive any advantage 
 from the Nicaragua transit, not common to the rest of 
 the world. Its neutrality and protection, for the com- 
 mon use of all nations, is their only object. They have 
 no objection that Nicaragua shall demand and receive 
 a fur compensation from the companies and individ- 
 uals who may traverse the route ; but they insist that 
 it shall never hereafter be closed by an arbitrary decree 
 of that government. If disputes arise between it and 
 those with whom they may have entered into contracts 
 these must be adjusted by some fair tribunal provided 
 for the purpose, and the route must not be closed pend- 
 ing into the controvesy. This is our whole policy, and 
 it cannot fail to be acceptable to other nations. 
 # * * f * * 
 
 Under these circumstances, I earnestly recommend 
 to Congress the passage of an act authorizing the Pres- 
 ident, under such restrictions as they may deem 
 proper, to employ the land and naval forces of the 
 United States in preventing the transit from being ob- 
 structed or closed by lawless violence, and in protect- 
 ing the lives and property of American citizens travel- 
 ling thereupon, requiring at the same time that these 
 forces shall be withdrawn the moment the danger 
 shall have passed away. Without such provision, our 
 citizens will be fconstantly exposed to interruption in 
 their progress, and to lawless violence. 
 
 This is the policy we admire, and the policy the 
 president intends to pursue in relation to all the 
 Central American routes to the Pacific. Especially 
 do we hope he will watch and defeat the machina- 
 tions of England. 
 
 Of Paraguay, with which we are on the eve of 
 war, he says : — 
 
 Should our commissioner prove unsuccessful, 
 after a sincere and earnest effort to accomplish the 
 object of his mission, then no alternative wJl re- 
 main but the employment of force to obtain ' just 
 satisfaction ' from Paraguay. In view of this con- 
 tingency, the secretary of the navy, under my di- 
 rection, has fitted out and despatched a naval force, 
 to rendezvous near Buenos Ayres, which, it is be- 
 lieved, will prove sufhcieut for the occasion. It is 
 my earnest desire, however, that it may not be found 
 necessary to resort to this last alternative. 
 
 Of the many other recommendations, we highly 
 approve the alteration in the tariff, for raising more 
 revenue, for the building more sloops-of-war, and 
 strengthening our navy, for the building a railroad 
 to the Pacific, connecting our Atlantic with our 
 Pacific States. 
 
 The message will not receive praise from every 
 one ; strange if it should. On the whole, it ia a 
 sound and American document. 
 
 James Suliivan, our travelling agent, will be in 
 Milford, Hopkinton, Marlborough, Natick, Worces- 
 ter, Uxbridge, Blackstone, Woonsocket, Lonsdale, 
 Valley Falls, and Pawtucket, next week. All those 
 who are indebted to us in those places will, we hope, 
 pay him, and increase their orders. 
 
 The first of the course of lectures, by the Young 
 Catholics' Friend Society, will be delivered by L. 
 Silliman Ives, LL.D., at the Mu.sic Hall, on Wcd- 
 neaday evening, Dec. 15. Previous to and after the 
 lecture the boys of the House of th» Angel Guard- 
 ian will perform some national airs. 
 
298 
 
 IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 [Writteu for the Miscellany.) 
 FAREWELL. 
 
 Fftrcwell, my own loved Erin! 
 
 What pniiilul thoughts nriifo^ 
 When to thoM' ngt's wliercin 
 
 Thy grcntcst glory lies; 
 Foud mt'mory — oft oflicious — 
 
 lU-curs with flush of pride, 
 To mu£c o^er scenes nu.'ipicious, 
 
 Aloug the Paet to glide. 
 
 Sweet land 1 I may not sec thee, 
 
 To breathe thy bnlmy air; 
 No more may 1 behold thee, 
 
 Thy hilU and valleys fair, 
 Where, iu youth's goideu mom. 
 
 Each fuiry rath and mouud, 
 My fliucy did adorn 
 
 As sacred, holy ground. 
 
 The merry hours of childhood. 
 
 The slieeu of Tlea^urc's day; 
 The bounding mirth of boyhood, 
 
 With thee were passed away 
 Id dreams, so foud and tender, 
 
 That thoughtless were and rash, 
 Aud Heeling m their i^plendor. 
 
 As lightning's vivid flash. 
 
 Ah: far since then I've wandered. 
 
 My poor and liapless isle! 
 Youtirs mad umbitiou sundered 
 
 Afl'ection's ties awliile; 
 But to regret the deeper 
 
 That e'erX ttrayed so far 
 From thee, thou lovely weeper. 
 
 My heart's true polar star. 
 
 Farewell ! — when Freedom's battle 
 
 Will call thy sons once more, 
 With cannon's thundering rattle, 
 
 From every foreign shore, 
 That sound shall be the herald, 
 
 If breath and strength be mine, 
 With the war-shout of Clan-Cierralt*, 
 
 That day to stand in line. 
 
 •Clan-Gerralt— the (Jerald'nes of Desmond, whose war 
 crj" WW ' ^Shan-ait-aboo' — The old place forever. 
 
 Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1858, by 
 Thomas O'Xeill, iu the District Court of Massachusetts. 
 
 REMINISCENCES IN THE 
 
 IF A 
 
 — !>• THE — 
 
 ENGLISH AND AMERICAN SEIl^7CES. 
 BY THOMAS O'NEILL. 
 
 DEDICATED TO GENEBAL JAMES SHIELDS. 
 
 A TYRANT'S REPENTANCE. 
 
 John Charlos Jackson, one of my companions in 
 arms, was a man, whom to know was to love. Ever 
 ready with a helping hand, full of kindness to all 
 "who came in contact with him, he was an universal 
 favorite. He was of a literary turn, and every 
 leisure moment was devoted to his pen or books. 
 Articles frequently appeared from his pen, under a 
 « non de plume,' in the ' Weekly Despatch," which 
 told ad hammcr-tongued facts upon the tyrants 
 who rode rough-shod over the rights of Uritish sol- 
 diers. 
 
 At the time of which I write, the regiment was 
 commanded by a tyrant, who, since then, was dis- 
 missed the scn'ice by sentence of a court-martial, 
 sanctioned by King William 1\. The sentence was 
 
 that ' Lord B , shall not be considered fit to 
 
 serve under His Majesty any more, either by land 
 or sea.' 
 
 Is it not singular that this man, thus dishonora- 
 bly dismissed from the service, should afterwards 
 enter the army, take high rank in command, and 
 bs honored at court, notwithstanding that his 
 crimes were numerous and notorious ? liesides 
 having been tried and convicted by court-martial. 
 
 he was indicted for felony, and frequently and pub- 
 licly reprimanded. Simple reader, do not wonder 
 nt all this ; tlie man was rich ; liad high titles j ar- 
 istocratic blond, unJ, consequently, great iiitcre.st at 
 court. His Majesty, although he- liud signed and 
 approved the verdict of the eourt-mftrtial for his 
 dismissal, was yet prevailed upon to restore the ras- 
 cal, but not without great and persevering inter- 
 ests having been used, for the king had repeatedly 
 declared that he should never be restored during 
 his lifetime. At length, the influence of Queen 
 Adelaide was brought to bear in his favor, and the 
 cashiered, disgraced Colonel became, and is now, 
 a General in the liiitish urmy. 
 
 This tyrant had, on more than one occasion, 
 well nigh caused our regiment to mvtiny. Such 
 was the exasperation of the men, at one time, that 
 they tore up their beds, and threw their iron bed- 
 steads out of the windows, At another time, the 
 commander-in-chief deemed it necessary to appoint 
 a General to investigate the cause of insubordina- 
 tion in the regiment, which resulted in the Colonel's 
 being reproved ; for, upon the General's demand- 
 ing the cause of their complaints, they (the sol- 
 diers), through their representatives — three old 
 soldiers from each troop — gave such evidence of the 
 impossibility to soldier under such a commander, 
 
 that the well known General G said that ' it 
 
 was enough to make hell mutinize, that the Colo- 
 nel might be fit enough for a peer, but not for a 
 soldier.' 
 
 What it was that influenced this tyrant to vent 
 his spleen and satanic disposition upon one of the 
 men, who was never known to incur the displeasure 
 of any superior ofiicer by bad conduct or neglect 
 of duty, was a secret, unless, indeed, he entertained 
 a suspicion that he was the author of certain arti- 
 cles which now and then appeared in the columns 
 of the ' London Weekly Despatch.' These articles, 
 it appears, reflected severely upon t!.e Colonels cdTl- 
 duct. This man was John Charl s Jackson. He 
 was very feminine in his appeal .nice ; his health 
 was poor, and he had but recently buried his wife, 
 to whom he was greatly attached. She had left 
 him the charge of an only child, a fine boy of five 
 years of age. The loss of his wife had so severely 
 acted upon his already delicate health, that he was 
 obliged to go into hospital, where he remained but 
 for a short time, and was then dismissed to the per- 
 formance of some light work, till further orders. 
 
 This light work consisted in working in the 
 stables, where sick and disabled horses were Kept, 
 and was entirely under the control and under 
 the supervision of the veterinary surgeon, no 
 other ofllcer having any command, or being enti- 
 tled to interfere in this department. Nor did the 
 regular stable hours afieet in any way the men at- 
 tending sick horses, for the simple reason that all 
 their time was given to the latter, and at tlie usual 
 troop hours, the duties to which they were ijroba- 
 bly attending, might, as likely as not take them to 
 the veterinary drug room, the farrier's shop, or 
 other place ; besides, the sick horses are not regu- 
 larly or ctrefuUy groomed like the other horses un- 
 til returned for service. 
 
 I have thought it necessary thus to particular- 
 ize the duties of those attending the sick horses, 
 in order to show the premeditated villainy which I 
 am to relate . It happened once, one beautiful eve- 
 ning in the month of March, the trumpet sounded 
 ' evening stables ;' the iriops marched from their 
 rooms to work ; one minute had scarcely elapsed, 
 when the enquiry went around — ' Where is John 
 Charles Jackson r ' One supposed him here, another 
 there, but nobody supposed him absent from duty. 
 The Colonel had gone to the stables, and made en- 
 quiry, the soldier was sent for, and on arriving, 
 was thus interrogated by the Colonel. * 
 
 ■ Where were you from your duty, sir ?' 
 ' I have been at and attending to my duty, sir ?' 
 
 was the soldier's calm reply. ' I have been to the 
 barrack-room, to get this kettle of boiling water,' 
 (holding up a kettle) he added. 
 
 ' You should be here at trumpet sounding, and I 
 will teach you not to be absent,' said the Colonel. 
 ' I have not been absent from my duty, sir,' and 
 am now acting under orders from the veterinary 
 surgeon, to whom ulonc (as I understand) I am re- 
 sponsible, while attending sick horses,' rejoined the 
 trooper. 
 
 Let him be confined, scrjeant-major,' ordered 
 the Colonel, and he was confined. 
 
 Now, although we know the tyrant, we certainly 
 supposed he would be ajraid to exercise his authori- 
 ty, or manifest his demon-like disposition ; in this 
 ease, at least, wc thought that no court-martial 
 could be found, composed of gentlemen, who could 
 or would dare find a verdict against our comrade 
 under such circumstances, considering the case as 
 it stood, and the well-known characters of the Colo- 
 nel and the accused. We were wrong, however, 
 for he was ordeied for court-martial, tried, convict- 
 ed, and sentenced to be flogged. The feelings of 
 the entire regiment were shocked, firstly, at the idea 
 of the man being court-martialed at all, and, ne.\tly, 
 at the severely of the sentence. His comrades, to a 
 man, declared that it was murder most foul. 
 
 Jackson himself felt it to be his death warrant, 
 but uttered no complaint. Hardened soldiers, used 
 to all kinds of severety, were horrified. 
 
 John Charles Jackson was flogged, and while the 
 dreadful and cruel sentence was being carried into 
 execution, the coward trembled. AVell he might 
 tremble, for one spark falling into a magazine 
 would not explode with moie certainty or violence 
 than for one word to have been spoken at that mo- 
 ment — hearts were bursting — hands were clenching 
 — teeth were grinding — tongues were bitter — eyes 
 were downcast — and anon might be heard the heavy 
 drawn breathings of men scarcely able to restrain or 
 control their passionate indignation. The tyrant's 
 eyes wandered fiercely around, flashing fire; he knew 
 and felt that he stood upon a mine. No word es- 
 caped the lasecratcd victim during his torture — the 
 spirit overmastered the flesh. Pale, emaciated, but 
 deadly silent, he was unbound, and assisted to the 
 hospital. The troops were marched back to their 
 rooms, and the Colonel started for the capital, where, 
 in the giddy whirl of fashionable dissipation, he 
 might drown the stings of a guilty but remorse- 
 less conscience. 
 
 A few weeks afterwards the regiment was or- 
 dered to march. The sick soldier was sinking rapid- 
 ly; it was but too apparent fie could not recover, 
 and that our suecesso'^s in the barracks might not 
 leam the cruelty that had been inflicted upon him, 
 it was ordered that he be taken with the baggage. 
 This hastened his death. Daily and nightly we 
 watched him, calmly travelling to that home from 
 whence none return ; to that place ' where the 
 wicked cease from troubling, and the weary are at 
 rest." He alone, of all the troop, seemed resigned. 
 Life's cup to him was full of bitterness; he had now 
 drained its dregs. He had only one desire, as re- 
 gards the affairs of this world, and ttat was that we, 
 his comrades, should take charge of his orphan 
 boy. Right cheerfully, as only rough men will, 
 did we pledge our manly faith to fulfil that wish. 
 About an hour before his death, a thought seemed 
 to strike him ; he called me to him, and requested 
 pen, ink and paper, and wrote with a trembling 
 hand two sentences, which I can never forget. He 
 confided the paper to my keeping, charging me to 
 keep it secret until, some future day, I was to 
 place it in the hands of the Colonel. He now 
 seemed ready to depart, and having taken an affec- 
 tionate adieu of all around him, he left us — settling 
 himself as it were quietly to sleep, he gently passed 
 beyond the borders of time. 
 The last sad and solemn rites were performed 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 299 
 
 over the soldier's grave, midst prayers and curses, 
 and pledges of vengoanee — many a tear fell, as it 
 were, in shame upon the mound, and with hearts of 
 truthful, earnest sorrow, we led our little orphan 
 charge from the grave of his late loving, but mur- 
 dered, father. He now sleeps in stranger earth, 
 with no stone to mark the spot. But why regret 1 
 the grave shall give up its dead; that pious soldier 
 will raise to life everlasting, while the tyrant who 
 sent him to an untimely grave must meet him at the 
 bar, where justice will be equally administered to 
 oil, without distinction of rank, accor ding to the 
 deeds done in the body. 
 
 1 need hardly add that the boy was well cared 
 for by us, as a sweet legacy, until it came to the 
 Colonel's ears, that the deceased had given me 
 something for himself. He sent for me, and I told 
 him such was the fact, and thinking I might not 
 have a better opportunity, 1 fulfilled the mission 
 imposed upon me by my dying comrade. I hand- 
 ed him the paper. It was addressed to ' Colo- 
 nel B , and read thus : — 
 
 ' Yeu have murdered the father — at least pro- 
 Tide for his boy.' 
 
 It staggered the ' noble ' rascal for some time. 
 But finally he sent the boy to one of those institu- 
 tions with which London abounds, and paid a 
 large sum to become a patron to the institution be- 
 fore he could get him admitted. Through his in- 
 fluence, and by means of his wealth, the boy has 
 been well provided for, and is now a fine, well- 
 educated young man. 
 
 THE WAR IN INDIA. 
 
 The war of independence, we are happy to say, goes 
 on actively, and although the British have won a vast 
 number of ' signal victories,' by their own accounts, 
 and have almost invariably, they say, taken all the can- 
 non and ammunition of the ' rebels,' still they meet 
 with fresh armies, and have many more signal victo- 
 ries to win yet. 
 
 "We annex the last official telegraphic announcement 
 received in London at the India House : — 
 To the Under Secretary of State, India House, Lon- 
 don. From G. F. Edmonstone, Esq., Secretary to 
 the government of India with the Governor Gene- 
 ral. 
 
 Allahabad, October 15. 
 OnDE — The following events have occurred in 
 Oude since the date of my last message, on the 4th of 
 October : — The rebels had advanced on Sundella with 
 12,000 men and 12 guns. Captain Dawson entered a 
 forti6ed enclosure with 1400 police infantry, sending 
 back his 500 cavalry to Malleeabad. On the lOtfa of 
 Octuber,the rebels were driven out of Sundella, losing 
 one gun and 100 men killed. On the 8th, a column 
 sent from Lucknow attacked the rebels at Zhamoo, 
 near Sundella, and routed them, taking three guns. 
 The pursuit was kept up for ten miles, and 1000 rebels 
 were killed ; our loss — Europeans, two officers and 
 seven privates wounded ; police, four killed and forty- 
 four wounded 
 
 On the 5th of October, Brigadier Eveleigh encoun- 
 tered a body of rebels at Meeahgunge, near the Cawn- 
 pore road ; took two guns, and killed and wounded 200 
 men Our loss trifling. 
 
 The Kapnorthalla Contingent have again distin- 
 guished themselves in an attack on the town of Bun- 
 doorce, near Uairum Ghaut, on the Gogra Kiver ; 400 
 of the rebels were killed, without any loss on our side. 
 A strong column, under Brigadier Wetherall, is be- 
 ing formed at Soraon, in the AUahabud district, on 
 the left bank of the Ganges, and will advance into 
 Oude immediately. 
 
 NOBTnWESTEIlN PROVINCES. 
 
 Benares Ui vision— The district of Benares, Jaun- 
 poor, Mirzapore and Azimghur are quiet. The north- 
 em frontier of Azimghur is, however, still threatened 
 from Oude. The Ghazecpoore district is generally 
 quiet ; but a few Sepoys are still hanging about the 
 village of Burragaon. 
 
 CoiiucKi'ORE — The rebels, who had again advanced 
 on Bunsec, were driven off, and the country east of 
 Biinsce, is now, in a great meusurc, cleared of rebels. 
 The territory bordering on Gueth (!) continues to be 
 disturbed. 
 
 TJoiiiLCCND Division — This aivision continues 
 quiet, wiib the exception of the northern frontier of 
 Shabjclianpore, which suffers from occasional runs by 
 the Oude rebels. 
 
 A force from Shahjehanpore, under Sir T. Scaton, 
 encountered a body of rebels at the village of Banga- 
 maon, on the Oude frontier, on the 8th of October, 
 took two guns out of three, and killed 300 men. Our 
 loss about twelve killed and wounded. 
 
 On the same day another body of rebels attacked 
 Powaeen, but were repulsed. 
 
 The Agra, Merut and Kumoan divisions are quiet. 
 
 JiiANsi Division— This division has been generally 
 quiet; but the approach of Tantia Topee, who was 
 last heard of on the banks of the Betwa, on the borders 
 of the Sullutpoor district, has caused great uneasiness. 
 Captain Fenton, the Deputy Commissioner of Sullut- 
 poor, has had to abandon his district, and fall back on 
 Jhansi. 
 
 The Jubbulpore division is tolerably quiet. 
 
 Centkal India — On the 2d of October, Tantia 
 Topee attacked and took Enaghur. The troops of 
 Scindia, who held the place, are believed to have fra- 
 ternized with the rebels. The post of Thundegree, in 
 the Jhansi division, was attacked by a portion of Tan- 
 tia Topee's force from the 7ch to the 9ih of October. 
 The rebels were beaten off by the garrison, which was 
 composed of Scindia's troops, and retreated to Seel (?), 
 ten miles off. 
 
 On the 9th of October, General Michell surprised a 
 division of the rebels under the Banda Nawab, at Mon- 
 greulie ("?), killing 150 of them, and taking six guns. 
 The Rao Sahib is said to have gone towards Jhansi with 
 another division. 
 
 Delhi Terkitort — The King of Delhi left Zeenut 
 Mahul, and Auvan Buxt left Delhi on the 7th of Octo- 
 ber, under escort of her Majesty's 9th Lancers, a troop 
 of Horse Artillery, and a Police Battalion. 
 
 Patna Division — A party of Sepoys were attacked 
 near Doomdaon, in the Arrah District, and about 
 thirty men killed. Our loss, two officers — Captain 
 Nason, military train. Captain Douglas, Madras 
 cavalry — killed. 
 
 G. F. Edmonstone, 
 
 To this we have only to add, that various symptoms 
 and rumours were rendering the English very uneasy 
 about the ' loyalty' of the Nepaulese and their cheif — 
 also about the gooJ desposition of the Sikhs. The 
 moment those iwospiiited and mihtary races think fit 
 to turn upon the Anglo-Saxon brigands, that moment 
 Queen Victoria's new Asiatic empire is gone. 
 
 THE OVERDUE STEAMSHIP. 
 
 The steamship Indian Empire sailed from New 
 York on the on the 22ad, and from Halifax, for Gal- 
 way, on the "^gih of October. When she left New 
 York she had on board eighty-one passengers, fourteen 
 of whom were in the first cabin, and a crew of eighty- 
 six men, besides the captain and nine officers. The 
 number on board was probably somewhat augmented 
 at Halifax. On the passage from New York to Hali- 
 fax she encountered terrific gales, but weathered them 
 in a handsome manner, sustaining only some slight in- 
 juries to her sails. Nothing had been heard from this 
 steamer when the Europa left Liverpool, Nov. 20th 
 and apprehensions are e.xcitcd as to her safety. 
 
 The Indian Empire was a well built vessel of 18.37 
 tons register. She was built by Mr. Webb, in 1843, 
 and her name has been changed twice. She was 
 originally cilled the United States. She was engaged 
 in the trade between New York and Liverpool for two 
 years, and was subsequently engaged as a transport 
 vessel. She was next purchased by the Germanic 
 Confederation, and formed one of the many of that 
 ephemeral government. After that, she became the 
 property of a Breman Steamship Company, and her 
 
 name was changed to Hansn, under which name she 
 made several voyages to New York. Finally, she was 
 purchased by Mr. Lever for the Galway line, and her 
 name was changed to Indian Empire. On her last 
 overhauling, at Soutliampton, under the direction of 
 her present owner, she was found to be in sound con- 
 dition. She has no bulkhead partitions, but is provided 
 with si.x boats, two of which are of the Francis pattern. 
 These would probably accomodate the passengers and 
 the crew. For extinguishing fire, a donkey engine, 
 and steam fire and bilge pumps can be brought to bear. 
 The Marine Register rates the Indian Empire as A 
 1 1-2, and says that her ' security and provisions 
 against fire are good.' — [Exchange. 
 
 The agents and friends of the line in the city of 
 New York hold to the theory that she is out of coal, 
 and express.great coniidence that she will be heard of 
 in a few days, relying largely upon the strength and 
 staunchness of the vessel, and the skill and long ex- 
 perience of Capt. Courtnay. 
 
 T. F. MEAGHER ON COSTA RICA. 
 
 The narrative of travel in Costa Rica, given by Mr. 
 Meagher at the Theatre on Wednesday, was one of the 
 most entertertaining and instructive to which we bavo 
 ever had the pleasure to listen, whether we consider 
 the eloquent delivery of the lecturer or the glowing 
 and beautiful language with which ho clothed his 
 subject. Certainly no other topic than that chosea 
 could have been better suited to a thoroughly Irish 
 temperament and imagination. Mr. Meagher is a true 
 Irishman, and possesses, to their fullest extent, the 
 appreciation of natural beauties and powers of descrip- 
 tion, which so peculiarly characterize hit nation. 
 
 Selecting Punta Arenas as his starting point, he led 
 his audience along the high road to San Jose, pausing 
 to make appropriate remarks on the social and political 
 state of the country, to eulogizj the grantleur and 
 splendor of the scenery, and to discourse most humor- 
 ously on the disposition and peculiarities of the people. 
 His description of the ball at San Jose, given in honor 
 of that ridiculous Frenchman, M. Belly, will create a 
 smile whenever called to remembrance. 
 
 Mr. Meagher's views of the Costa Ricans, their 
 rulers, and their form of government, differ very mate- 
 rially from those of the generality of persons who pro 
 fess a knowledge on the subject; yet they were appa- 
 rently substantiated by forcible and comprehensive ar- 
 gument. 
 
 The sketches of Mr. Paez add considerably to the 
 interests of the narrative. — [The States. 
 
 TheBbitish Constitution. — The Baltimore Sun 
 says very properly — but the Sun and the rest of man-- 
 kind might have been familiar with the facts be- 
 fore : — 
 
 ' Suffrage in England. — In a late English jour- 
 nal we noticed the announcement that the Irish tenants 
 of the Marquis of Westminster had petitioned that 
 nobleman for leave to vote according to their convic- 
 tions, but that his lordship's agent had replied that the 
 tenants were expected to support their landlord's nom- 
 inees, This pregnant fact explains many of the mys- 
 teries of British elections. The people ot Great 
 Britain are too often censured for returning unworthy 
 members to Parliament, when, in point ol fact, it is not 
 the voters, but the landlords who are to blame. In 
 this country it is difficult to realize the influence and 
 powcrwhich the uobility possess. Owning, as they do, 
 bv far the largest portion of the soil, making it gene- 
 rally a practice to turn oil" tenants who vote to dis- 
 please them, and avoiding to buy of shop-keepers, or 
 to employ mechanics, who are of different politics from 
 themselves, they practically control the elections, and 
 roinrn whom they please to Parliament.' 
 
 We hear persons occasionally talk of England as 
 * a republic in all but the name.' It is very far, how- 
 ever, from being a republic. It is an oligarchy under 
 the forms of a monarchy, and oligarches have ofieaer 
 led to despotisms than to republics. 
 
300 
 
 IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 OUR VISIT TO RANDOLPH. 
 
 Up iimonc ihe Blue hills, without any (lisiinKuishinp 
 femure of outward attrariion, is located the Tery neat 
 and thriving town cf R.iudolph. Years h«TC now 
 rolled by since we visited it before, and there shook 
 hands with old comrades.school mates and bed fellows 
 
 NEW YORK NEWS BV THE WAY OF BUFFALO. 
 
 The New York correspondent of the Huff-ilo Uom- 
 mercial Advertiser, under date of Nov. 2i), furnishes 
 on incident in relation to the enterprise of some of 
 the Now York papers, which we have not discov- 
 ered to knvc- been brought to light by either of the 
 
 Jlany were the thoughts that came rushing to our | pnpe„ interested in the affair. The correspondent 
 
 memory, recalling the past, while in company "'•''' says: 
 
 those whoso every suggestion carried us back to the .Xowspaper enterprise, even in New York, is not 
 old school-house of boyhood life, to the happy, careless | ji„.(iyj crowned with success. Here is a ease in 
 days when naught disturbed our joy save ihc striking ! p^jj^, . Uenndt of the Herald having managed to 
 
 hours of advancing night, summoning us from sports 
 and merriment, which only gave way to increasing 
 years and the cares of life. Some wo knew in this busy 
 hive of New England industry that shall be known 'no 
 more fot«vcr,' summoned to au early grave, which 
 knows no waking to mortality, and who fell asleep to 
 arise to a purer and more exulted life ot eternal happi- 
 ne»s. And shall we not name one ? Voung, ardent, 
 hopeful and warm, Joseph Boat, now scarcely remem- 
 bered. Thus are broken the links which bind us to 
 life, drawing us, as it were, away Iromjtime, admonish- 
 ing the living to prepare for eternity. 
 
 We were drawn away from these melancholy rcflec- 
 iions by a visit to the t )wn hall, where wc were de- 
 lighted to see the exhilarating flow of spirits which 
 animated the youthful gathering. If dancing never 
 becomes more criminal than that witnessed there, we 
 think the crime will not be great. Wo are not advo- 
 cates of ' all work and no play.' We think the exer- 
 cise of dancing as necessary as food, while the ani- 
 mated spirits have the effect of making unnecessary — 
 the doctor's bill. Wc are aware, h»wevcr, that dancing 
 is carried too far, night turned to day, pleasure to 
 crime, and that morals, as well as health, are frequent- 
 ly sacrificed to this inspiring pleasure. 
 
 The neat little cottage homes of these exiles is the 
 evidence of their industry and the blessings of good 
 government — the lie to England's boasted freedom 
 and the slander with which she follows the poor Irish 
 ontcasts, that " they are idle and not industrious, tur- 
 bulent, ungovernable, and.wrcckless.' Visit this and 
 all the other flourishing towns in New England and 
 throughout the entire Union ye defamers, and see what 
 labor and the right to live produces, what freedom and 
 equality before the law inspires, what an inherent right 
 to the soil, to a home, to freedom of conscience, with- 
 out either government or an established church, sol- 
 diery to rob or intimidate — is capable of producing. 
 
 Wo were somewhat astonished to see some old 
 friends, who, from appearances, never leave the work- 
 shop — sons of Cyclops we should have thought them ; 
 they looked more like Russian bears than shoemakers. 
 Their voices were familiar, but their faces were so 
 covered with hair that it was almost impossible to dis- 
 tinguish a feature. As we were presented to the mar- 
 ried sons and daughters of old associates, whose little 
 ones occupied the places of their parents a few years 
 ago, we gave up the idea which clung to us so long, 
 that we were still in youth. 
 
 We feel very grateful for the kindness of all our 
 friends, and more especially that of the McGrath fami- 
 ly, which we will not soon forget. Randolph men have 
 ever been noted for the prompt and efficient aid they 
 give and the way they sustain any project which has for 
 its objec the lifting up of the old land and the vindica- 
 tion of national character. 
 
 We have appointed Mr. Lawrence McGrath as our 
 agent, he having kindly accepted the trust, and will 
 attend to the wishes of our many friends in the town 
 of 'spiler.' We hope to see them again ere Fuirick's 
 day. _ 
 
 ever, another fortification to seize, while the chief 0^ 
 the country is in command of a reserve foree of ten 
 thousand men. But these were to lie attacked and no 
 doubt conquered; and then the island will puss under 
 the French flag. Thus FrAnco puts in force the prac- 
 tice 80 long prevalent with the European nntions ; 
 they do not simply punish a petty nation lor it offence 
 but thcv fillibuster and annex it. 
 
 Gavazzi IK Ibei^kd. — This roaring evangelist ha« 
 been lecturing in Dublin, and was expected in Belfast. 
 Riots were almost certain to occur at the latter place 
 
 smuggle a reporter on board the Niagara, it will be 
 remembered, distanced all his rivals by the earliest 
 and most accurate intelligence from the Atlantic 
 telegraph .squadron. The Times, which is lookod 
 upon as his immediate rival, never forgave the then 
 Secretary of the Navy (Toucey) for that bit of 
 favoritism, which denied to other journals a privi- 
 lege accorded to the Herald alone. Well, when the 
 Paraguay expedition was on the eve of departure 
 the other day, it struck the Times that it would not 
 be a bad idea to have a correspondent on board one 
 of the squadron, and special influences were brought 
 to bear upon Gen. Cass for the necessary permit. 
 These influences were successful. A special cor- 
 respondent was chartered fortwith, and a comforta- 
 ble state room was assigned to Mr. Sewell (that is 
 his name) on board the Sabine. The correspondent 
 sent his baggage on board ; the Sabine was on the 
 point of weighing anchor, and the editor of the 
 Times was just in the act of penning the paragraph 
 congratulating his readers upon the arrangements 
 that had been made for procuring for them the ear- 
 liest intelligence from the fleet, when an incident 
 occurred which shows how 
 
 ' The best laid schemes of mice and men 
 Gang oft aglee.' 
 A loud knock was heard at the door, and, in a 
 high state of excitement, in rushes no less a person- 
 age than Judge Bowlin himself, and with an air be- 
 coming an envoy extraordinary and minister pleni- 
 potentiary, presented the editor with a 'special tele- 
 gram' from Washington, signed by Gen. Cass, 
 countermanding the permit. The editor looked un- 
 utterable things ; he was certain there must be some 
 mistake. But the minister said he had not time to 
 argue the matter ; the Sabine was about to sail ; his 
 orders were peremptory ; Mr. Sewell must go 
 ashore, ' bag and baggage,' forthwith. Saying 
 which, he left the sanctum, and sure enough, in the 
 course of an hour thereafter, ' our own correspond- 
 ent' was ignominiously put ashore. 
 
 But the laugh does not come in here. About an 
 hour after the Sabine had cleared the Narrows, and 
 had fired her farewell shot, it came out that the 
 envoy extraordinary had been the victim of an ex- 
 traordinary hoax. Gen Cass was telegraphically 
 requested to explain, and he did explain, by pro- 
 nouncing the levocation of the permit for the Times 
 correspondent a forgery, expressing his profound 
 regret, and assuring the Times folfcs, and Mr. 
 Sewell, of his distinguished consideration, &c., &c. 
 Now, the place where the laugh comes in is here, 
 when I add that there is every reason to suspect 
 that the bogus dispatch was the malicious concoc- 
 tion of a rival newspaper establishment, which it is 
 unnecessary to name. When it was known that 
 the Times was to have a ' special ' on board the Sa- 
 bine, a council of war was held at a certain sanctum 
 in Nassau street, and there it was resolved that the 
 ' special ' should be squelched, by hook or by crook 
 — and it was squelched.' 
 
 Fbesch Fillibcsterino. — Tho French find it 
 
 and it is probably the express mission of the evangelist suhjeci of rejoicing in their conque.n of the bay of 
 to create riot, for some government purpose, a very Tourane, in Cochin China. The exoed.t.on went out 
 
 old and well-known policy. 
 
 vith the mission of demanding satisfaction for outrages 
 upon French missionaries, and after having destroy>-d 
 A narrative of the recent visit of Cardinal Wiseman the forts by a short but vigorous cannonading, the 
 to Ireland is shortly to appear from the press of Duffy | French flag was hoisted over the place, and the island 
 of DubUn. C»rdiual Wiseman famishes the narrative. I proclaimed a legal seiiure. There remains yet, how- 
 
 THE LIVERPPOOL VESTRY AND THE SIS- 
 TERS OF MERCY. 
 
 Within a very few weeks it has been our painful 
 duty repeatedly to show that though ' the school- 
 master has been abroad ' for more than a quarter of 
 a century, the faith in sorcery is not extent, and 
 that this and the kindred diabolical superstition of 
 fortune-telling have still a deep root in the minds 
 not of the lowest class of the coummunity. But 
 now another shock awaits us. Grant that maid- 
 servants will listen to the voice of the charmer who 
 appeals to their poekeiswith the promise, if not of 
 a nobleman in disguise, at least of a handsome swain 
 and a rising income; grant that women of some 
 education, and who move in Bible-reading and 
 Bible-propagating circles, now and then have faith 
 in th'f efficacy of burnt powders, at sixpe'nce a piece, 
 to remove the effects of witcheries and conjurings; 
 and grant many other similar facts, which, having 
 been matter of admitted deposition in our police 
 courts, are beyond question here. Still we have 
 the upper classes to fly to; we can take refuge from 
 this ignorance in the delectable society of ladies 
 and countesses. And indeed of witcheries, save 
 those which they effect without metaphysical aid, 
 we have no ground to accuse them. 
 
 But some of these high dames, it would appear, 
 fly to more vulgar aids when time has done his 
 work upon them, and, unable to appreciate the 
 venerable dignity of years, would snatch a grace 
 beyond the reach of nature, though not it seems of 
 art. So we are constrained to believe, by force of 
 judicial testimony, in a trial in which Madame 
 Rachel complained, in Her Majesty's Bail Court, 
 that her landlord had assaulted her, not only to 
 her personal hurt and outrage, but to her great 
 professional disadvantage. And what was Madame 
 Rachel's profession? Was she an actress, or dan- 
 cer, or singer, or an operator on corns and bunions? 
 No, she was a resorter of elderly ladies. Our read- 
 ers are incredulous ; but we assure them the fact 
 is beyond doubt. -It appeared,' says the report of 
 the trial, that the plaintiff was a manufacturer of 
 cosmetics and perfumery, and, according to her 
 counsel's statcment,prepared elderly ladies for balls.' 
 Pause here, gentle reader, and be observant of the 
 fact that you have left the lower regions of society, 
 and are now amongst the elect of Mayfair and Bel- 
 gravia. Take off your hat, too, to Madame Rachel, 
 the enchantress. It was her skill that inspired that 
 eloquent poragraph in Jenkins's last flourish in the 
 Post, in which he gave Lady 's eyes and com- 
 plexion a brilliancy superior to her diamonds. 
 
 Lady has no complexion. Her cheek is sallow 
 
 and withered; her eyes sunken and glittering with 
 the feeble light of waning years. But when her 
 ladyship has to appear in public, and by wax-light, 
 she knows whence the qualifying aid is to come. 
 She sends for Madame Rachel, slips five guineas 
 into her hand, and bids her to do her best. Madame 
 opens her trunks of cosmetics, and sets to work. 
 In that trunk she has the rarest and most wonder- 
 ful commodities. Articles • for the restoration and 
 beautifying the human hair, complexion and teeth." 
 She has ' depilatory ' powders for taking the hair 
 from the dear old countess's faces, and other ap- 
 pliances for restoring it to the dear old countess's 
 heads. You, who have pictured to yourself a piece 
 of ooble humanity tottering on the verge of the 
 grave, and dried up as mummy, may suppose that 
 art cannot amend that withering mortality, or re- 
 
IKISH MISCELLAJ^Y. 
 
 301 
 
 store to it eren the semblance of its earlier days. 
 You are unable to appreciate Madame Kachel and 
 her bo.\. But wait and you shall see. There sits 
 the countess, and here stands the operator. Over 
 the f.xce of that dried up anatomy she first thinly 
 spread a delicate layer of 'blanchinctta.' Perhaps, 
 you think this will only make matters worse by 
 adding ghastliness to wrinkles. But patience ; the 
 ' blanchinctta' is not everything; it is only the 
 ■ premier pas ' of the operation. For now, you see, 
 she lays it aside and takes out her ' rosinetta,' and 
 suffusing that exquisite and truly wonderful pre- 
 paration over the ground already skillfully prepared, 
 she produces quite a metamorphosis. She streaks 
 the lips with it, pencils the eyebrows, and puffs the 
 wrinkles where they mar the finer expressions of 
 the face. Nor is even this all. Something is yet 
 wanting to bring these adjuncts together to blend 
 their effects into a harmonious and fascinating whole. 
 And what do you suppose that 'something' is ? Dull 
 mortal, you can't even guess it. But Madame 
 llachel will sell you as much as you like to buy of 
 it at two-and-sixpence, five shillings, and ten-and- 
 sixpence a box. It is her 'Arabian bloom;' one 
 wash, or layer, or puff of which — for the mode of 
 application is not stated — imparts a bloom to the 
 cheek sufficient to convert the glossy glitter of my 
 lady's ' dreary old eyes into at least candle-light 
 brilliancy, and produce a similarly admirable result 
 on her patent enamels. 
 
 Now all this is fact; serious, sorrowful fact. It 
 is not the case of a poor foolish servant girl giving 
 her last half-crown to a gipsy, or robbing her mis- 
 tress in the hope of hearing of something to her ad- 
 vantage in the shape of a good-looking carpenter or 
 a curly-headed tar whose relations towards her are 
 to be of the happiest and most fortunate kind. It 
 is not even the case of a benighted fool who thinks 
 she is under the influence of a spell. Nor, in a 
 word, does it belong to any category of superstition, 
 no matter how ridiculous. It belongs to something 
 worse. It is part of an idolatry of which the fading 
 dust of mortality is the god, and a degraded soul 
 the worshipper. And, be it observed, this Madame 
 Rachel, with her cosmetics.has not been the success- 
 ful victimizer of a single dupe. Though only eigh- 
 teen years of age, she has reached the ' full blaze of 
 her popularity,' and during the season is in such 
 request that she can afford to pay £163 per annum 
 for a first floor, her average earnings, never, under 
 any circumstances, falling below £15 per week. 
 When the assault which brings all this paint, and 
 varnish, and hideousness before us, was committed, 
 she had a cab waiting to take her and her trunk 
 of cosmetic to a countess who wanted to be ' pre- 
 pared for a ball.' How the countess fared with the 
 ' blanchinctta,' and ' rosinetta,' and the 'Arabian 
 bloom,' we are not told ; but surely it is fair to ask 
 how,in a country pretendingto such enlightenment, 
 such things can be ? How many Madame Rachels 
 there are in our English world, with their cos- 
 metics, we know not; but that there should be one 
 who, with their own consent, desecrates the fea- 
 tures of high bred ladies, and converts the reverend 
 aspect of years into the hideous deformity of paint, 
 is a circumstance which cannot be too deeply de- 
 plored. — [London Tablet. 
 
 FOREIGN INTELLIGENCE. 
 
 We have not this week received our regular for- 
 eign exchanges, but in their absence, we have drawn 
 somewhat extensively on the Southern Citizen. On 
 page U will be found the latest news from India, 
 and on page 11 extracts from late Irish papers in 
 relation to Orangeism and the ' crushing out ' sys- 
 tem. 
 
 The parishioners of Donoughmore and Knocka 
 (aided by his friends in Limerick) have presented 
 the Rev. James Moore, their late curate, with a 
 purse containing upwards of £80, on his removal 
 from the above united parishes to the curacy of 
 Ballingarry. — [Munstcr News. 
 
 Archbishop Cullen. — The Freeman's Journal of 
 the llth ult., states that letters from Rome have 
 been received confirming the announcement made 
 some days since, that it is the intention of the Pope 
 to raise the Archbishop of Dublin to the dignity of 
 a cardinal. 
 
 lUELAND. 
 
 Relioion IV QoREY.— Within the last fortnight 
 three members of the Franciscan order, known as 
 ' Recollects,' arrived at Gorey from Belgium. On 
 the evening of their arrival they were warmly re- 
 ceived by the inhabitants ; vast crowds assembled 
 in the streets, and cheered them loudly. They so- 
 journed for a few days at Ramsfort, after which 
 they took possession of a temporary house prepared 
 for them. Their object is to found a monastery at 
 Gorey, and their duties will be to attend to the 
 spiritual wants of the faithful, not only there, but 
 in the surrounding districts, and to give missions 
 whenever solicited to do so in this diocese and else 
 where. Their rules are the most rigid of any order 
 in the church, with the exception of the Carthusi- 
 ans. 'I'hey depend altogether on voluntary offer- 
 ings for support. The priests of the order are pro- 
 hibited even from handling money — a lay brother or 
 some other appointed for the purpose acting in such 
 cases. 
 
 In the little kingdom of Belgium there are nine 
 houses of 'Recollects,' the number in each house 
 ranging from forty to eighty. Smce their reforma- 
 tion, two hundjseJ years ago, they never have been 
 known to stand in need of means of support. Each 
 house has half the number of inmates priests, and half 
 lay brothers. The priests give missions, hear con- 
 fessions, and, in towns, attend sick calls. Mass is 
 celebrated every morning before day, at which large 
 congregations attend. It is quite usual even on 
 week days to see from three to four hundred per- 
 sons at holy communion. There is solemn high 
 mass every morning at seven o'elocK, and in the 
 evening solemn benediction of the most holy sacra- 
 ment. The members of the order rise at half past 
 eleven every night to sing the divine office. They 
 then retire to rest till five, at which time they re- 
 sume their daily occupations. During a mission 
 the fathers are dispensed from the severity of the 
 rule. 
 
 We are happy to hear that they have been en- 
 gaged already in two or three parishes adjacent to 
 Gorey to give missions in the spring, also, that ap- 
 plication has been made from persons desirous of 
 entering the house. The inhabitants of Gorey have 
 come forward cheerfully to aid Mr. Ram in con- 
 tributing to the support of the fathers, and there is 
 every reason to expect that the good work will go 
 on and prosper. Mr. Ram has built a convent for 
 some members of an order of cloistered Franciscan 
 nuns, called ' Penitents.' They arrived late at 
 Gorey, and are under the direction of the Hon. 
 Mrs. Law. This lady, it may be well to mention, 
 is daughter to the late Recorder of London, M. P., 
 for the University of Cambridge, sister to Lady Kil- 
 njaine, and to the heir apparent to the earldom of 
 EUenborough. It may be remembered that the 
 Rev. Mr. Bennett, a minister in the diocese of Exe- 
 ter, founded a convent for Protestant Sisters of 
 Mercy. Mrs. Law was one of those. She happily 
 entered the Catholic church at a subsequent period. 
 In addition to the foregoing gratifying facts, the 
 reader will be pleased to leani that two Sisters of 
 the Tertian order of Penitents are expected over im- 
 mediately to take charge of the sick poor, and per- 
 form tlic duties of Sisters of Mercy in the pariah. 
 His holiness the Pope, a member himself of the 
 Tertian Order of the Franciscans, is most anxious 
 that the ' Recollects ' should be established not only 
 in Ireland, but throughout the ChristianJ world. — 
 [Wexford People. 
 
 Secret Sochties. — This subject continued to 
 disturb those persons in Ireland who term them- 
 selves ' loyal ' — those, namely, who are disloyal to 
 their country, and slavish to a foreign power. Mr. 
 Smith O'Brien has evidently no participation in 
 these secret societies, though he abhors British gov- 
 ernment, at least, as much as any other man alive, 
 and has taken several occasions of condemning 
 them. We, on the other hand, approve of all so- 
 cieties and organizations, secret and open, having 
 for their object the destruction of British power in 
 Ireland. The Dublin Packet,an Orange paper, thus 
 questions the Nation : — 
 
 ' Disclose their objects, if they be honest, and not 
 murderous. Tell us what they contemplate in plain 
 downright language? We ask the Nation.' The 
 Nation, as the Packet knows, does not profess, and 
 has never professed to be acquainted with the affairs 
 of those societies. But we can , nevertheless, afford 
 the ' plain downright language,' which the ques- 
 tioner dare not reciprocate. We are assured, and 
 we do believe their objects are not ' murderous,' 
 and that what they ' contemplate in plain, down- 
 right language ' is that for advocating that which 
 Grattan received the thanks of a Protestant Irish 
 parliament — 'the legislative independence of Ire- 
 land.' Has the Packet its answer ? 
 
 Murder in THE Qceeh'b Countt.— A most la- 
 mentable occurrence has taken place in the Qneeu's 
 County. On the evening of Friday week Mr. Richard 
 Ely was mortally wounded by a gun-shsot near the gata 
 of his own residence, and he died on the following day. 
 The unfortunate gentleman it appears fell a victim 
 to some private grudge which he had raised in the 
 breast of a bad character in the neighborhood. Mr. 
 Ely was not en exterminator or an oppressor ; he had 
 not funded up for himself the hostility of the inhabitants 
 of the surrounding country, and the popular feeling on 
 the subject is one profound horrror at the perpetration 
 of the crime by which his life was sacrificed. It is, 
 therefore, extremely wrong to speak of this horrible 
 business as an illustration of the ' state of the conntry.' 
 It has nothing to do with the state of the country ; it 
 has nothing to do with the ' spread of RIbbonism' 
 which, by the way, is not spreading at all— the scoun- 
 drel who shot Mr. Ely wag probably as much a Knight 
 of the Garter as he was a Ribbonman — it has nothing 
 to do with societies of any sort, secret or public ; it has 
 to do, we should say, judging from the;circumstances, 
 
 only with the blind passion of some one bad heart. 
 
 [Nation. 
 
 With regard to the Prince Albert's passengers 
 and freights, the Galway Vindicator gives the fol- 
 io wing information : — ' There were 208 first, second 
 and third class booked at two o'clock P. M. that 
 day, 10th inst., and there are four trains yet to ar- 
 rive before the sailing of the ship — 4. P. M., 10 
 P. M., 12 night, and 12.20 A. M., to-morrow— so 
 that we may very safely estimate the number she 
 will carry at least 250. With respect to the cargo, 
 there was put on board of her, yesterday and to- 
 day, 348 cases and hogsheads of manufactured 
 goods of a valuable description, the larger portion 
 being Irish linens and other productions of native 
 manufacture from the north of Ireland, besides 
 very large quantities of hardware from Scotland in 
 hogsheads, weighing 16 cwt. to 18 cwt. each. The 
 passengers are from every part of the kingdom, but 
 the great proportion of the Irish are from the 
 province of Ulser, next to that, from Leinster and 
 Connaught, and comparatively few from Munster, 
 whose population of an emigrating tendency seems 
 to have been completely drained out by the exodus 
 of the famine years.' 
 
 Lew OF THE Extra Police Tax in Donegal. 
 
 On the the 4th instant, Daniel Cruise, Ehq., resident 
 magistrate, with a largo body of police, went to the 
 tovvniund of Ucllyboes, on which ihe late attempt to 
 murder Mr. Nixon took place, and levied off the oc- 
 cupiers the sum of £50, fur payment of the extra 
 police stationed there. 
 
302 
 
 IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 TERROR AND RACE. | as our Saxon forefathers. We sec it in our laws 
 
 The Govemmint press, or Orange, or British j concerning mnlifious injuries, in our extra poUcc, 
 
 &c., but the oppliint'on of the principle has failed, 
 because we do not hit the nail true on the head — 
 because we hit only the masses that are put in mo- 
 tion, and not the string which governs those masses, 
 
 press, of Inland, is at this moment louder and more 
 savage than ever in our memory, advising and urg- 
 ing on an extermination of the tenantry. The im- 
 mediate occasion is the late assassination of Jlr. 
 Kixon, an i.\ terminating landlord of Donegal. The 
 Londondery Journal speaks of the threatened 
 crusade thus : — 
 
 • In the comments of the landlord organs, one and 
 all, the spirit exhibited is simply the spirit of in- 
 humanity. One journal susgests that the wretched 
 inhabitants of Givecdore and Cloughaneely be again 
 made to feel the gripings of that cruel poverty 
 ■which public chanty had removed— another, that 
 dragons be sent to the district to ride down the na- 
 tives—a ihird, that the sons of the gentry be organ- 
 ized as patrols, and armed with revolvers, and that 
 these young gentlemen, so remarkable at all times 
 for moderation, be permitted to range the moun- 
 tains in the aristocratic sport of Celt shooting, and 
 a fourth proposes the extermination of such 
 ' savages ' by wholesale. These are a few of the 
 expressions that have been printed. We shall not 
 repeat all the verbal suggestions mildly advanced. 
 When we give one of them, viz : ' to shoot a priest 
 for every landlord "—we will readily be pardoned 
 for not sullying onr columns withsuch bloodthirsty 
 sentiments." 
 The Dublin Nation says: — 
 ' Our people are every day being rooted off their 
 own soil, driven from their own homes, banished 
 from their own native valleys, hunted like noxious 
 vermin from the land, crushed out, swept out, 
 mopped out, as dregs, refuse, nuisance. They are 
 every day driven across tlve tea to other countries — 
 to England— from whence they are spurned again, 
 should they, after, it may be, years of hard toil, be 
 forced to apply for a day's relief from the public 
 charities, to America — anywhere — everywhere, 
 away from their own land. This thing is, we say, 
 going on every day ; it is bad enough, and is felt 
 deeply enough, although endured with seeming 
 patience. But this new development— this added 
 furv— this savage threat of wholesale depopulation 
 — what shall we say to it ? 
 
 Only this— that if a course of proceeding which is 
 opposed to the laws of God, and outside the laws of 
 the land, and which is at variance w ith the tirst 
 principles of human society, be attempted to hi car- 
 ried out in Ireland— if our challengers take the law 
 into their own hands, and say to our people : ' We 
 shall drive you into the jaws of death ; your exter- 
 miuation, nothing less, can content us '—we shall 
 answer their war message plainly, openly, readily, 
 in the words of a memorable defiance to as savage a 
 threat — let them come on !' 
 
 VARIOUS ITEMS. 
 
 A prdagopae threiitened lo punish a pupil who had 
 called him a fool behind his back. ' Don'l ! don't 1" 
 said the buy. '1 won't do so iigain, sir, never ! 1 
 never will say what 1 think again in my life!" 
 
 An ' improved apparatus,' recently patented, and 
 
 The spring, sir, I repeat, is the priest, and unless • fully described in the Mechanics Magazine— ' for rai»- 
 you get round his soft and vulnerable side, the : ing and lowering ihc skirls of ladies dresses '—i< styled 
 pocket, you can do nothing.' | by the Home Journal, ' ladies high-draulic.s.' 
 
 Another recommends a general armament of the I j-p is uaid of a rich miser, that he died ia great want 
 • IovaI ' with blunderbusses. Another bethinks him , — of more money, 
 of bloodhounds — j ^ Pkosaic Tar. — A seaman, who had escaped 
 
 ' Now, sir, if a couple of these sagacious detee- adipwrcck, was aj,kcd by a lady how ho felt when the 
 lives were kept at every police barrack in Ireland, ^jv^ves dashed over him. He replied, 'Wet, madam— 
 the assassins of tlie Rev. Mr. Nixon and of Mr. Kly nmie wet.' 
 
 would have been amendable to justice within an | ^ ^^^ ^^^^ ^^^ ^^^^ ^yj^^ j„ California by put- 
 hour or two after the perpetration of their crimes, ; ^^^^ ^^ ^ ^^-^^ ^f p,^.^„ Blockings and drinking a glass 
 or rather, in all probability, those crimes would not ^^ ^.^j ^ water- an experiment he had not tried for many 
 have been committed. One or two bloodhounds 
 
 would also, you may depend upon it, be a better 
 safeguard to the ' marked men,' when travelling the 
 Queen's highway, than even a blunderbuss or a re- 
 volver.' 
 
 But the Nation here observes — 
 'Now, inasmuch as a bloodhound is unable to 
 distinguish between the scent of a ' sheep stealer ' 
 or an ' assassin' and that of the most moral charac- 
 ter in the neighborhood, any honest man may have 
 the bloodhound at his door on any day or night 
 that a cowardly or drunken landlord may fancy 
 himself attacked. So we caution the tenantry to be 
 prepared to protect themselves, and to make short 
 work of the bloodhound should he come the way.' 
 
 The Warder, an Orange organ, if? a leading arti- 
 cle, says — 
 
 ' The public opinion of the country gives the 
 government caute blanche to use any and eveky 
 means for the ferreting out of this fearful combina- 
 tion.' 
 
 QcAnTEniNG AND DiSEMBOWELLiNO. — That very 
 opocryphal personage, the London correspondent of 
 the Warder, writes : — 
 
 ' If one of the heads of the system could be got, 
 and made an example of, possibly the crime might 
 be exterpated. I am not disposed to argue in favor 
 of the revival of old and debasing forms of punish- 
 ment ; but if such an organizer of Bibbonism were 
 brought to conviction, it would, perhaps, be effec- 
 tive to carry out his execution in some of the more 
 degrading methods long disused, but scarcely ade- 
 quate to the case of such a wretch.' 
 
 In the meantime, the English press is, of course, 
 delighted with the occasion of launching out into the 
 customary abuse of Irish Celts— than which no litera- 
 ture is more palatable to the Birtish reader For ex- 
 ample, says the Saturday Review : — ' No one can yet 
 have quiie forgotten old Ireland — the Ireland that 
 
 This we fear is but vain bravado. They have { moved the souls of statesmen, and baffled the etTorts of 
 • come on' ere now. and have slain their tens of , P'^'l''"''';°PJ^*f-!''f\*;™."\'';'' °V° '^''V''°i.'"L"!^!!l 
 thousands, and with impunity. 
 
 The Nation of the 20th November has collected a 
 few specimens of the true Orange fury. One gen 
 
 tlcman, a magistrate, writes a letter to a Dublin 
 paper, with the following suggestion:— 
 
 • I would propose the formation of a society of 
 landed proprietors throughout Ireland, who should 
 publicly execute codicils to their wills directing the 
 removal of the Roman Catholic population from 
 every townland over which they have control, which 
 may become the theatre of agrarian murder. Let 
 each member, on joining the society, pay £1 en- 
 trance money, and a few shillings yearly subscrip- 
 tion. Let the society furnish the members, on join- 
 ing, with the necessary form of codicil, and let the 
 funds of the society be employed, under its legal 
 advisers, in effecting the clearance of such property 
 as may come within the meaning of the rules of the 
 society. The principles for such an association as 1 
 propose, i. e., making the neighborhood answerable 
 for tha deeds within it, i» nothing now ; it is as old 
 
 foe 
 turbulence were rewarded by retribution, ruin nnd 
 starvation. 
 
 years before. 
 
 An editor says that when he was in prison for libel- 
 ling a justice of the peace, he was reiiuested by the 
 jailor to give the prison a puff. 
 
 • You have considerable floating population in this 
 village, haven't you V a>kcd a stranger of one of the 
 citizens of a vdlage on the Mississippi. ' Well, yes, 
 rather,' was the reply, ' about half the year the water 
 is np to the second story windows.' 
 
 What is that which, supposing its greatest bredth to 
 be four inches, length nine inches, and depth three 
 inches, contains a solid foot 1 — A thoe. 
 
 ' Why is a blnsh like a Utile girl V Because it be- 
 comes a woman !' 
 
 Thk water howling from a spring does not congeal 
 in winter. And those seniiments of friensbip which 
 flow from the heart cannot be frozen in adversity. 
 
 A large fellow, lying down on the grass, said, 
 ' Oh, how I do wish this was called work, and well 
 paid !' 
 
 Wouldn't Follow Him. — On a gravestone in a 
 Southern burial ground, is the following popular in- 
 scription : — 
 
 As I am now, you must be ; 
 Prepare lo die, and follow me. 
 
 To which some cautious individual added, in pencil 
 
 mark : — 
 
 To follow you, I'll not coDEent, 
 Until 1 kuow which way jou went. 
 ■ Men cannot expect to take pleasure unless they are 
 willing to take pains. 
 
 A servant asked her mistress whether she would 
 oblige her by going out on a particular afternoon, aa 
 she was going to have a parly of friends, and wanted 
 the loan of ihc drawing room. 
 
 Genius has limits, virtue has none ; every one pure 
 and toed 'an become purer and better stdl. 
 
 The religion that costs us nothing is worth exactly 
 what it costs. 
 
 ' How came such a greasy mess in the even V said 
 a fidgetty spinster to her maid-of-all-work. 
 
 ■ Why,' replied the girl, ' the candles fell into some 
 water, and I put them into the oven to dry.' 
 
 The heroine of a love story— a mere thi;;g of goose- 
 quill and foolscap ; one born in a garret lo be buried 
 in a trunk. 
 
 Sir Thomas Coxe finds nothing to abuse except his 
 wile's crinoline and Mrs. Longbow Miles's hoops. 
 
 ' ]f they have no other advantage,' sneered Lady 
 Coxe, ' they keep the men at a proper distance, and 
 that's a great blessing.' 
 
 'To ;ho men,' growled Sir Thomas. 
 Friends.- Some English officers, drinking in their 
 tent, asked the chaplain for a toast. * The King of 
 said the colonel. 
 
 edness, half wilful, half pitiable— that gave curses for 
 gratitude, and shot down all who presumed to improve 
 on her traditionary way — whose words rivalled the 
 ferocity of Red Republicans, and whose most heroic 
 deeds rose just to the level of assassination. Every one 
 must still remember the Ireland of O'Connell and 
 Smith O'Brien, jnd Sleagher of the Sword (that nertr 
 was drawn)— the country where a threatened war of 
 extermination, to be waged with pikes, and sycthes, 
 and vitroil bottles, and all the desperate resources of 
 a down-trodden race, ended in a flight from a cabbage 
 garden before a handful of police- the holy island 
 where a faithful peasantry was ready to kill by the job 
 5s a head— the land of Hibbanmcn and Orangemen, 
 where no one except a murderer flying from justice 
 could rfly on his neighbor's fidelity, where religion was 
 
 made the pretext for bloodshed, "and treachery and j France!' ' What, ou , , . , ,u, 
 
 ' live bv him,' said the chaphan. The colonel took the 
 
 'You 
 
 ' YouBB is a very hard case,' said the fox to the 
 oyster. 
 
 first opportunity of giving, 'The devil!' 'Do you 
 mean to all'ront me V said the chaplain. ' You live 
 by him,' said the colonel, very coolly, ' do you not, 
 good doctor t' 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 303 
 
 ADVEETISEMENTS 
 
 MERCANTILE AND WRITING SCHOOL, 
 
 E. J. GLEESON, JI.vsTiiR. 
 
 Tliis Scliool is now opened ut Ko. 23 rouTLAND Street, 
 a few doors south of Dooloy's Exclinnge Hotel, where a 
 select and limited mimber of the Youth oJ butli sexes will 
 be admitted; time from 9 A. M. to 12 M., and from 2 P. M 
 tooF. M. 
 
 TERMS UrODEKATE. 
 
 EVENING SCHOOL! 
 
 This school will bu opened in the same place on the first 
 evening of next moiitli, where adults and those of riper 
 yenrs, \\i\\ be carelully and assiduously instructed in the 
 various branchtsoi learning-, suitable to their culling. 
 
 BOOK-KEEPING: 
 
 Mr. Gleeson ventures to say, and pledges himself without 
 hesitation, that he will qualiiy young gentlemen for the 
 Counting Uoom, in half the time that is consumed in simi- 
 lar institutions in this city, and at considerable less ex- 
 pense. 
 
 August 17th, 1853. auff28 
 
 FINE READY MADE CLOTHING 
 
 — AND— 
 
 CUSTOM TAILORING, 
 
 SPRING OVERCOATS, 
 
 BUSlIs^ESS COATS, 
 
 FKOCIi. AND DRESS COATS, 
 
 PANTS AND VESTS, 
 Good, Stvlish, Well Made Garments, 
 Such as men of taste and good judgment will wear, can at 
 all times be found at our store. 
 Our aim is to produce for our customers the best Ready 
 Made Garments at the lowest possible prices for 
 CASH. 
 
 Readers of this Journal are earnestly solicited to exam- 
 ine our goods before purchasing. 
 
 J W. SMITH & CO., 
 
 Dock Square, corner Elm Street. 
 myll tf 
 
 SOUTH END CATHOLIC BOOK STORE, 
 
 And Depot for the Sale of the 
 METROPOLITAN AND YOUTHS' BIAGAZINES. 
 
 WILLIAM KEATING, Agekt, 
 
 8 1-2 Harrison Avenue, or at his New Periodical Store, 176 
 
 Harrison Avenue, Boston, Mass., 
 
 WTiere a great variety of the most popular Books and 
 
 Papers cam be had at the very lowest prices, 
 
 WILL supply Clubs, Agents, Canvassers, &,c.. on the 
 same terms as the Publishers. The following are 
 the terms— 3 copies will be sent by mail, to one address, lor 
 one year So; 6 copies for SIO; 13 copies for S?20; 20 copies 
 for ®3)i. 
 
 (C?* On the receipt of 5^3. three copies of the Catholic 
 Youth's Magazine and one copy of the Metropolitan will 
 be mailed regularly tor one year. 
 
 {Tr" A few sets of the Magazines from the beginning, can 
 be had of the Agent. Also, all new books furnished aa 
 Boon as published. ap24 3mos 
 
 H 
 
 TURKEY SALVE 
 
 EALS ULCERATED SOKES, EELONS. 
 , Whitlow, Palm Abscis, skin or water Scrofu- 
 la, Ulcerated Sore Legs, Bruises, Chapped Hands, Ulcers in 
 the Neck, Scald Head in Children, Frosted Feet, Sore Nose, 
 Boils, Bleeding Piles, Ulcerated Sore Breast, Sore Nipples, 
 Inflamed Breasts made to supperate in twelve hours, with- 
 out a resort to the ' knile.' There is no Salve before the 
 public so powerful as this, being entirely made from the 
 strongest herbs, roots and barks. It can be reduced so as 
 to be applied to a child one week old, or be made strong 
 enough to dress an ulcer every half hour, even after morti- 
 fication sets in. so that this salve will do more good in one 
 day than all others in one week. 
 
 N. B.— I give my entire attention to healing Ulcerated 
 Sores, and warrant perfect cure, failing in which 1 make no 
 charge. My motto is, 'No cure no pay.' Charges moder- 
 ate. 
 
 d41m 
 
 FRANCIS F. SPRING. 
 
 18 High street, Boston. 
 
 DO'KOUKKE, respectfully informs hin Iriends and the 
 • public, tlial ho keeps constautlv on hand COFFINS 
 of all sized aud kinds, at hie Collii: 'Manufiictory, No. 'Ml 
 Federal, between Beach and Kneelund Streets, Boston, 
 which he will sell as reut^onable ascau be bought at any oth- 
 er place in the'city. 
 
 >(. B.— Orders punctually attended to, day or night. 
 
 Residence, No. 28 tiouth street, Boston. 
 
 QIT^tjrave-ClDthas fUriui^hod to order at short notice. 
 
 feblS 
 
 ADVERTISEMENTS. 
 
 OLD COLONY HOUSE. 
 
 PATRICK IIOLLV begp leave to announce to his pat- 
 rons and the ])nbliu gt'ncr;illy that he has cuustantly 
 on hand at his old and well-known stand, 
 
 THE OLD COLONY HOUSE, 
 
 CORNER OF KNEELAND AND SOUTH STHEETS, 
 A CHOICE ASSORTMENT OF 
 
 BRANDIES, WINES, SCOTCH & IKISH 
 
 WHISKEY, CIGARS, &c. &c., 
 
 ull of the very first quality, which can be obtained too at 
 
 LOWER RATES 
 
 than elsewhere in the market; in proof of which he invites 
 purchasers to give him a call. aug28 
 
 NORTHERN HOUSE, 
 
 NORTH SQ U A RIC— BOSTON. 
 
 JOHN CLANCY Propkietor. 
 
 This House has rooms equal to any first class Hotel, and 
 permanent or transient Boarders can be accommodated 
 nearly one half cheaper than at any other House in the 
 City. 
 
 In the Reading Room can be found all the morning and 
 evening papers, and periodicals of the day, together with 
 an extensive Libraiiy, for the free and exclusive use ol 
 
 the BOARDKRS. 
 
 N. B. Strangers visiting Boston, can always find this 
 House a Home. 
 
 J. & R. MURPHY, 
 
 MAKtTFACTFREKS OF 
 
 SURGICAL AND DENTAL INSTRUMENTS- 
 CUTLERY, 
 
 AND STEEL WORK OF EVERY KIND, 
 No. 3 HARVARD PLACE, (opposite the Old South,) 
 
 BOSTON, Mass. 
 D:^"CutIery and Instruments of all kinds Repaired, 
 ly aug28 
 
 GENERAL TICKET OEFICE 
 
 — FOR THE — 
 
 SOUTHERNAND WESTERN STATES 
 
 AND 
 
 THE CANADAS, 
 No. 2 Albany Street, Boston. 
 
 EDWAED KYAN, Agent. 
 
 N. B.— Passage to and from Liverpool, and Bills of Ex- 
 change on England, Ireland and Scotland. 
 
 ap24 ly 
 
 FRANCIS GODFREY, 
 
 IMFORTEB AND EESTOKEE OF 
 
 ITALIAN PAINTINGS, 
 
 AND MANUFACTURER OF GILT FRAMES, 
 
 12 Franklin Street, Boston. 
 Sy Engravings, Lithographs, Crayons, &o., on sale. 
 Sm aug28 
 
 CATHOLIC BOOK STORE. 
 
 WILLIAM HICJiEY, Catholic Bookseller, and Agent 
 for the Extensive rublishing House of D. & J. 
 Sadlier & Co., of New York. 
 The latest and most varied stock of Religious Prints, 
 MISSALS, PRAYER BOOKS. CROSSES, 
 and all the Current Literature, constantly on hand. 
 
 No. 128 Federal (corner op Willi.vms) street, 
 BOSTON, MASS. 
 
 P . MORRIS, 
 
 APOTHECARY, 
 
 Comer of Federal and Purchase streets, foot of Summer 
 
 street, BoPTON. 
 
 STRICT personal attention paid to compounding Physi 
 cian's Prescriptions. A choice selection of Family 
 Medicines constantly on hand. A well selected stock of 
 Pennine imported Perlumery and Fancv Goods. Soda 
 Waterwilh choice Syrups. A larj-e assortment of genuine 
 „.. 1 1 ^p. 
 
 ADVERTISEMENTS. 
 
 THE IRISH VINDICATOR. 
 
 A WEEKLY NEWSPAPER, 
 
 TuE Bust and Cheapest Published in Auebioa. 
 
 THIS splendid Paper, which is little over nine monthfl 
 u existence, has met 'with the 
 
 M„ WONDERFUL SUCCESS, 
 
 and has been proi.uun(:od by the Press and the Public to be 
 superior to any other Irish Weekly in the United States. 
 
 It contains each week, the very 
 Latest News prom every County in Ireland ; 
 Original and entertaining 
 STORIES AND ANECDOTES, 
 and a variety of Miscellaneous Reading matter, of a charac- 
 ter which caunot fail to elevate and chasten the intel- 
 lectual appetite. The Irish Vindicator is devoted 
 
 TO THE INTERESTS OF IRISHMEN IN AMERICA, 
 and is so cheap as to be within the reach of the poorest. 
 
 ONLY THREE CENTS A COPY. 
 
 the following are the terms 
 
 To any part of the Uuited States, for one year, $1.50 
 Do. do. ,do. for 8 months, 1.00 
 
 Do. do. do. for 4 months, O.DO 
 
 Do. do. do. for 1 month, 0.12 
 
 To any part of Canada or the British Provinces, one year 
 ^2,00 — All payments in advance. 
 for advertising, 
 12 lines, single insertion Sl.OO I 12 lines, 1 month, 82.60 
 12 do. 3 months, 6.60 1 12 do. 1 year, 16.00 
 
 Published every week, at tlie Office, No 10 Spruce street 
 New York, by the Proprietors. 
 
 EDWARD DOWNES CONNEEY & CO. 
 New York, march 27 
 
 THE SOUTHERN CITIZEN, 
 
 IS published weekly at Knoxville, Tennessee, by JOHN 
 MITCtlELL & WM. Ci. SWAN, at S2 per annum, or 
 351 for SIX months, payable invariably in advance. 
 
 Mr. Mitchell having commenced in the 28th number of 
 the paper, a series of Letters addressed to the Hon. Alex- 
 ander H. Stephens of Georgia, which when completed will 
 furnish an entire history ot 
 
 THE IRISH TROUBLES OF 1848, 
 
 With their Causes and Consequences, 
 
 The Southern Citizen will be the more interesting to both 
 American and Irish readers. -Besides these contributions 
 from Mr. Mitchel, the Southern Citizen will continue to 
 have its usual quantity of original matter upon political 
 and literary subjects prepared by him. The circulation, 
 though large and constantly increa.sing, the proprietors 
 have thou{;htwill be much more extended by an announce- 
 ment in this form. 
 
 Communications with remittances may be addresed to 
 Mitcliel & Swan, Knoxville, Tennessee, or to any of the 
 following Agents; 
 
 S C Courteuay & Co, Charleston, S C; Thomas B O'Con- 
 nor, Savannah, Ga; J C Morgan, New Orleans, La; Jas A 
 Gentry, Qichmond,Va; Alexander Adamson, Washinjrton 
 city; rallinage& Tunner, Cincinnati, O; I'M Uavcrtv,' 110 
 Fulton street, N Y; S H Goetzel, 33 Dauphin street. Mobile 
 Ala; Benj B Davis, Masonic Building, Montgomery, Ala; 
 Ross & Toucey, 121 Nassau street, N 1 , suppiv dealers only 
 upon reasonable terms; James McGinn, 121 Kearney street 
 San Francisco. 
 
 *»* Clubs of ten will be supplied with the paper tor S15. 
 
 CLUBS! CLUBS!! CLUBS!!! 
 
 There is no town or village so small, but a club of six or 
 more subscribers for the Irish Miscellany can be easily ob- 
 tained. Will those of our friends who are well-wishers 01 
 the land of their birth, do us the favor of getting up Clubs. 
 Our terms will be- 
 To a club of six persons sent to one address, £10,00 
 Toa club of twelve, 19.00 
 The whole of the money must invariably be sent at one 
 remittance, and in advance. 
 
 In addition to this great reduction of price, each member 
 of a Club will be entitled to copies of all our splendid Gift 
 Pictures. Let our friends exert themselves, and by their 
 patronage make the Miscellany the foremost Irish jouma 
 on this continent. 
 
 I Segars constantly on hand. 
 
 G 
 
 ILMOEE'S SALEM yUADRILLE BAND. E. UP 
 TON, Jr., Prompter. Apply to P. S. Gilmore Efl- 
 
 tex Uouaa, til leu, Ma<». 
 
 TRAVELLING AGENTS WANTED. 
 
 We have determined to appoint a number of Travelling 
 Agents, to travel in the various States of the Union and 
 canvass for subscribers j«r this paper We do this at the 
 earnest request of many warm friends, who think we do 
 not take the requisite steps to make the paper known as ex- 
 tensively as it ought to be. 
 
 Persons desirous of becoming Travelling Agents, who 
 can be well recommended, are reciuested to apply at our 
 olhceiorthwith. None but faithtui, reliable men need ap 
 ply. To such a liberal commission will be allowed. Apply 
 at ourPublication Oilice, 4 Water street, Boston. 
 
 Back Nu.MBEr.8 ol the Mii-cellany, from the commence 
 ment of the paper, may be procured through any ol' our 
 regular agents, or by sending direct to the office of publi 
 cation. No. 4 Water street, Boiton, Will our Iriends in 
 want bear this fact In mindt 
 
304 
 
 IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 MFNRY GILES, THE DISTINGUISHED LEC- 
 TURER. 
 
 Who has not heard of our old nnd esteemed friend, 
 Henry Giles, an Irishman who has done more to lift 
 up the Irish clmniotcr than any olher of our couniry- 
 nicn in the United States ! The Knglishjhoy's idea of 
 Ireland it much a-kin to that which the );encrality ot 
 the American (leoplc have of IrislimeM. The former, 
 in describing that country, from his impressions, 
 thought it 'a great place where they grew bullocks.' 
 So with most of the American people; they think the 
 Irish art) great people for making roads, di^rging, 
 delving, and all sons of hard labor ; but if you told 
 them that Swift, Goldsmith, Graitan, liurkc, and the 
 Sheridans, were Irishmen, they would bo likely to 
 dovbl it. If you told them that in all ajjes Irish intil- 
 lect soared as high as that of Bacon, Milton, or Shake- 
 speare, you would (without it was liierary society^ 
 b« laughed at. Were they told that the most abstruce 
 philosophers, the ablest statesmen, the greatest talent 
 at the bar, in the pulpit, on the stajje, in journalism — 
 everywhere demanding mind— Irishmen were found 
 capable, and made an iodellible impression — they 
 would still be incredible. 
 
 Among the deep thinkers and hard workers of the 
 preient day is Henry Giles, universally known and ad- 
 mired, and foremost among critics, Icctuiers and origi- 
 Dal writers. Uo is admired by the most able literary 
 men in the United States. In private as well as in 
 public, he has taken every opportunity of vindicating 
 the character of his countrymen, and preserving the 
 name and glory of Ireland. True as the needle to the 
 pole, has his warm heart beat towards his countrymen 
 in exdc, while the liberty of his sentiments has endear- 
 ed him alike to all creeds and shades of politics. So 
 intensely national is he that he would give an estate 
 — did he possess it — along with the Cromwellian name 
 of Giles, to be the possessor of a thorough Milesian 
 Dame. 
 
 Who, we ask, has studied Irish character more 
 thoroughly? who entered into every feeling, thought, 
 passion and desire of the Irish heart, more than Henry 
 Giles ? Who understands more keenly the intense love 
 for home, the pangs of separation, the exile's sorrow ? 
 and who can so truly trace half their crimes to what 
 is, in truth, deep-rooted virme, national aft'ection, love 
 for association, and a clinging to old customs, bitter 
 than our friend. Were he a trader and pandcrer to 
 prejudices, he might possess wealth and aflluence ; but 
 he preferred to be identified with the weeping island of 
 his nativity. 
 
 'More dear in her sorrow, her tears and her showers 
 Than the rest of the world Id their suuniest hours.' 
 
 We feel proud of the success which attends his 
 Western tour, and hope sincerely he may return to the 
 East and his family built up in mind, body and wealth, 
 and revigorated for the winter's campaign, to scatter 
 around the jewels of thought, the enriching produc- 
 tions of a well-stored mind — to instruct, to please, to 
 drive away 'dull care,' and cause the dull to laugh, to 
 carry us for an hour to the scenes of home, and to 
 make us forget (by his illustrations of na'ional wit and 
 humor) that we are exiles and strangers in a foreign 
 land. 
 
 We understand from a Western friend that he has 
 delivered some new lectures on Irish character, among 
 which is one on O'Connell, and which has not yet 
 been delivered in Boston. We arc assured they are 
 the richest of his productions on Ireland. It is the de- 
 sire of his many friends to hear them, and we under- 
 stand arrangements are in progress to solicit him to 
 favor this community. We trust all the arrangements 
 m ly be satisfactorily completed. We believe our peo- 
 ple are indebted to him, and, if we know them, as we 
 think we do, they are ever reody to pay debts of grati- 
 tude, and to cling to those who labor in their behalf. 
 
 Our West Uoxbury agent, Mr. Charles A. Bel- 
 ford, has kindly consented to act as agent for the 
 Miscellany iu West Ro.xbi'ry. Mr. Belford is one 
 of the most prominent young men in West Ilo.xbury, 
 and we hope that his friends will give him a warm 
 reception when he calls upon them. 
 
 It will bo seen by ndvertisement in another column 
 that the office of the Boston Irish Miscellany is still at 
 No. 4 Water sircot, in that ciiy. We have noticed 
 with pleasure the advancing striites of this periodical 
 since it came under the control of our old friend and 
 conlributiir, Sergeant Thomas O'Neill, whose sketches 
 of the Life of u Soldier in the British and American 
 'Annies furm not the Icnst intfrestiiig and rcnilable 
 feature of the Miscellany. There is a sjilendid fivld 
 open to his enterprise, of the advantages of which we 
 arc confident he will not be slow to avail. Wc wish 
 him all luck and prosperity. 
 
 Wc thank our friends of the Irish American for 
 their very kind notice of our paper, and; l)egto inform 
 tbem that our oflice is at 16 Franklin street. 
 
 Geokge O'Neill, our travelling agent, will visit 
 Lynn, Salein, and Danvers during the next week, 
 where, we trust, our many friends will aid him in 
 his mission for extending the Irish Miscellany. 
 
 PASSAGE REDUCED BETWEEN 
 
 LIVERPOOL AND BOSTON. 
 
 MERCHANTS' LINE 
 
 — OP — 
 
 BOSTON AND LIVERPOOL PACKETS; 
 
 8AILi^U rHOM LIVERPOOL DIRECT TO BOSTON EVERY 
 ylicTEEM UAYS. 
 
 THE SPLEXDID PACKEl'S comprising this line are as 
 follows;— 
 
 Sliips. Tone. Captains. 
 
 Commodore- - - - 1800 liliss 
 
 Caklvle 2000 Maxwell 
 
 Sbah-.mut - - - - 1000 Hijrgius 
 
 Mongolia . - - - 1600 Melclier 
 
 Thos- Jefferson - 1500 - - Hill ' 
 
 Waltkk.Sco-it - - 1800 Smith 
 
 I'RINCLSSHOYAL - - 2000 Hartley 
 
 HicHARD Mouse - - 1500 Dinsuiore 
 
 Thalatta - . - - 1750 Stiuson 
 
 Cambria - - - . 1850 I'erry 
 
 roCAlJO>Tl9 . - - 1700 Deland 
 
 ItUFUS t'HOATE - - 1500 Itich 
 
 These ships are all of the first class, mostly new. and built 
 expressly ior the Liverpool trade; spacious between decks, 
 well ventilated, with all the modem improvements lor the 
 conitort, hcalfli and safety of passengers. 1 hey are com- 
 manded by American Captains of known experience and 
 kindness, who will carefaily look to all the vwuts of the 
 passengers during the voyage. 
 
 Each ship will be furnished with proper 3Iedical atten- 
 dance. 
 
 I'enouB Eendirg tor their friends in the Old Country can 
 DEl'END on having them ordered up promptly lor the 
 FiasT suira, and at such times as will prevent their being 
 detained lu Liverpool, as is often practiced by the other 
 
 RATES OF PASSAGE 
 from Liverpool to Boston (including provisions) ; — 
 For persons 12 years of age, and over, - . - S20 00 
 
 For children under 12 years, 15 00 
 
 For infants under 1 } eur, at time of embarkation, 3 00 
 
 REMITTANCES. 
 Bills of Exchange on England, Ireland, Scotland, Wales 
 and Germany, for sale in sums to suit. 
 
 I'assengers forwarded weekly to all parts oj Europe by 
 Steam and Sailing vessels. 
 
 PAGE, RICHARDSON & CO., 
 
 134 State street, Boston. 
 
 ITT- For PASSAGE CERTIFICATES from and to Liver- 
 pool, and Bills of Exchange, or for auy information as 
 above, apply personally or by letter to 
 
 LAWRENCE & RYAN, Agent.s, 
 
 E271y Ko. -41 Broad street, Boston. 
 
 ATLANTIC ROYAL MAIL STEAM NAVIGA- 
 TION COMPANY'S 
 
 NEW YORK AND GALWAY LINE. 
 
 THE next departure from New York will be the fleam- 
 ship 
 
 CIECASSIAX, Capt. Jackson Tiiursday. Dec. 30. 
 
 Touchirg at St. John's, NK., to receive the roval mails. 
 
 I'ricea of passage— First class Si»; second do. S&O; third 
 do, $30; including irec tickets to all the principal cities on 
 railway routes in Great Itritain. Third class must provide 
 plate, knife, loik, tec, and bedding. 
 
 Passage to St. John's— First class, S35; second do. S26. 
 
 For freight or passage iiiijuire of the American Express 
 Company. 61 lluUsou street, and at their other advertised 
 oflices in the interior. I'assage in the third class can be se- 
 cured at auy of the above o'tices to bring persons out from 
 anv of the principal cities on the lines of railway iu Great 
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 O'CONNELL'S HEART IN ROME. I The processions and foims of the Roman Ciitholio I interests of their faith. Kevereiitially, then, may the 
 
 The picture which we pive below represents Churcli are its greatest bug-bears to its enemies, formula attending the conveyance of a )ieartrenciered 
 the Boman Catholic clergy of Rome conveying in but piety, in whatever form it may exist, is entitled sacredbyti'e dying u-isIi<R of its possessor be regarded 
 solemn procession the heart of the great Liberator, to respect, as is the tribute which Roman Catholics hy the Strang r, for the lioquest was typically the de- 
 Daniel O'Connell, to the Church of Saint Agatha. I paid 'o one.who Uibored so earnestly to promote the I votion of the dying man tithe Jerusalem of liis hopes. 
 
 THE HEART OF O'CONNELL CONDUCTED TO THE CHURCH OF ST. AGATHA, ROME 
 
306 
 
 IRISH mSCELLANY. 
 
 THE PRIVATE MEMOIRS OF CAPTAIN ROCK. 
 WKiriEN DT BIU9ELF. 
 
 [Continued.] 
 
 CHATTER IV. 
 
 SOME ACCOUNT OF MY ANCESTORS. 
 
 The history of Ireland bears ample testimony to 
 the antiquity of the lloeks, and it is even sup- 
 posed we Hourishcd long before the Wrongheads 
 were established in England. Some think we are a 
 remnant of the ' Tuath de Dennans," a nation of 
 necromancers, who could restore the dead to life, 
 and bring into the field the warriors who had been 
 slain the preceding day; though others think wc are 
 descended from the ' Firbolgs,' who emigrated two 
 hundred and sixteen years after the death of Neme- 
 dius. Father O'Meara, however, was of the former 
 opinion, from the fact that our family has proved 
 indestructible — a proof that we are necromancers 
 •till. Certain it is, that we existed in Ireland an- 
 terior to the year 1300 before Christ, when Heber 
 and Heremon, the sons of Milesius, King of Spain, 
 invaded the kingdom; and, though we had but 
 little opportunity of distinguishing ourselves during 
 the reigns of such wise monarchs as OUam Fodlah, 
 Dubhlachtha, Fhibhertach, Brian Boroimhe, &c., it 
 is well known we made some noise previous to the 
 memorable period when Pope Adrian fliought tit to 
 make a present of Irtland to the crowded murderer 
 of Thomas ^ Becket. For the first one thousand 
 one hundred years of the Christian era, however, 
 there is little or nothing known of our family great- 
 ness. 
 
 The inglorious supineness of the Rocks during 
 this period is easily accounted for. The Chief 
 Judge, on all solemn occasions, had a kind of col- 
 lar placed around his neck, which possessed the 
 extraordinary virtue of pinching him unmercifully 
 whenever his decisions were contrary to right. 
 From the number of strangulations which took 
 place, the use of this test of justice was discontinued. 
 and, for some centuries, was supposed to be lost; 
 but, to the great joy of the nation, this Irish curi- 
 osity was lately found by the Marquis Wellesley, 
 and presented to the Chief Justice of the Court of 
 King's Bench, Lord Xorbury and another judge 
 having prudently declined its acceptance. My 
 Lord Bushe, however, I understand, wears it with 
 all imaginable ease and honor to himself. 
 
 It was doubtless a poor time for the Kocks to live 
 in, when a beautiful young lady, in the most costly 
 dress, was allowed to travel, without molestation, 
 from one end of the kingdom to the other, though 
 she carried on the top of her wand a gold ring of 
 inestimable value. Robbery and abductions, it 
 seems, were then unknown, so excellent were our 
 morals, though there remains no proof that Brian 
 Boroimhe ever enacted a Constabulary Bill, or put 
 the Insurrection Act in force. 
 
 The origin of the name of Rock has puzzled an- 
 tiquarians no less than our descent. Some hint that 
 it foretells the fuitue greatness of Jlr. Roger O'Con- 
 nor, being composed of the initials of the following 
 awful words, Roger O'Connor King, while others 
 are assured that it takes its rise from the saxum 
 Jacobi, or stone of Jacob, which was brought from 
 Egypt to Ireland by the Eraniies, a tribe of Joseph. 
 
 Perhaps neither of these suppositions is right, as, 
 in all probability, the name took its rise from the 
 Rock on which for ages we continued, in spite of 
 the persecuting spirit of the times. 
 
 Notwithstanding the quiescent state of my an- 
 cestors during the reign of OUam Fodlah and 
 other.s there can be no doubt but that their dis- 
 position was ur.changed. The gr^at Frederic used 
 to say, ' The French fight for glory, the Spaniards 
 for religion, and the English for liberty, but the 
 Irish always tight for fun.' This, at all events, is 
 true, as applied to the Eoclu, f> r like the seal, we 
 
 are never happy but in a tempest; discord is our 
 natural element, and the English government has 
 consulted our disposition in ministering to our love 
 of riot, during the last six centuries. Well might 
 each successive Rock exclaim — 
 
 Qux rej^iu iu terris nostri uon plooa laboris. 
 Or, as O'Flaherty translates it — 
 
 Through Lcinetcr, Ulster, ConnniiKht, ilunstcr, 
 Kuck'» the boy to make the fuu siir! 
 
 Soon after the arrival of the English in Ireland, my 
 family arose to consequence. Our whiskers, in 
 spite of statute after statute, flourished in a manner 
 that would put a modem military exquisite to the 
 blush, for Rowland's Macassar oil is not near so 
 good a nourisher of national beards as persecution. 
 In 1798, it required an army of thirty thousand men, 
 and all Lord Cornwall's good sense, to put down 
 the crops, although there was as little mercy then 
 shown them that wanted a queue as iu former ages 
 to a lip that wanted a beard. 
 
 In those times a mere Irishman could be killed 
 witli impunity ; and, even if naturanzed, the pen- 
 alty seldom exceeded five marks, so cheap was 
 then considered the blood of a ' merus Ilibernus.' 
 Under such laws, my pugnacious ancestors began 
 their career, which they have continued to the 
 present time, under the different denominations of 
 mere Irish Rapparees, Levellers, Hearts of Steel, 
 Peep-o'-Day Boys, Carders, Caravant, Whiteboys, 
 S:c., &c. Had the English usurpers (for they were 
 never conquerors) adopted the policy of the Tartars, 
 and given their institutions to the people among 
 whom they intended to settle — had they levelled all 
 invidious distinctions that recalled the memory of 
 theif intrusion — in short, had they sown the seeds 
 of good fellowship, instead of sitting down, like 
 hags beneath a plantation of night-shade — the 
 family of the Rocks had remained in obscurity, and 
 I had not now been publishing my 'Gazette in Lon- 
 don' for the instruction of statesmen and the good 
 of my country. But the English seem to have 
 been adventurers for personal advantage, and not 
 for national benefits, and filled their nets best in 
 troubled waters. 'It was certainly,' says Sir John 
 Davis, who, like most of his successors, acknowl- 
 edged the misrule of every government but their 
 own, ' a great defect in the civil policy of Ireland, 
 that for the space of three hundred and fifty years, 
 at least, after the conquest first attempted, the 
 English laws were not communicated to its people, 
 nor the benefit or protection thereof allowed, tor as 
 long as they were out of the protection of the laws, 
 so as every Englishman might oppress, spoil, and 
 kill, without control, how was it possible they 
 should be other than outlaws and enemies to the 
 crown of England?' 
 
 Sir John, like most other commentators on Irish 
 affairs, forgets that his countrymen were admitted 
 by treaty into Leinster, and had not, until the lime 
 of Elizabeth, any right, jurisdiction, or power, out 
 of the English pale, wnich extended only a small 
 distance from Dublin. The English monarch was 
 acklowledged lord of Ireland, but each Irish chief- 
 tain ruled with undisputed power in his respective 
 province. The fact fully accounts for the length of 
 time which elapsed before the introduction of Eng- 
 lish laws; and though the 'sassanachs,' or strang- 
 ers, treated rudely their mere Irish neighbors, I 
 dare say my countrymen we re no way backward in 
 returning the compliment. This was a glorious 
 time for the Rocks, and, accordingly, they flour- 
 ished amazingly. 
 
 It might have been supposed that, previous to the 
 Reformation, the game at which the Rocks and the 
 government have so indefatigably played, would 
 have lagged, for want of the stimulants of opposite 
 creeds. But those who are inclined to quarrel will 
 easily find apologies to begin, and, accordingly, we 
 had two hostile altars set up iu Ireland, at which 
 
 people who believed in the same Pope knelt down 
 to curse each other; with this difference only — the 
 one cursed in English, and the other Irish. 'Alas !' 
 said one of my ancestors, on seeing this phenome- 
 non, ' if such is the mode in which these piousjper- 
 sons now agree, what sport shall we have when 
 they differ !' 
 
 ' The first difficult fact," says Mr. 'Williara Par- 
 nell, ' those writers (who attribute Irish rebellion 
 solely to the antipathy of Catholics to a Protestant 
 government) have to encounter is, that rebellions 
 were just as frequent while the government was 
 Catholic as when it became Protestant, and that the 
 most formidable rebellion which ever shook the 
 English power in Ireland broke out thirty years be- 
 fore the reformation, and continued, with little in- 
 termission, until the era of the reformation." 
 
 I must not here forget to mention, because it is 
 intimately connected with history of my family, 
 that to our English intruders we are indebted for 
 the blessed system of tithes — the decimal part of 
 the produce of the earth being the bribe given by 
 Pope Adrian, through the synod of Cashel, to the 
 clergy, to ensure their obedience to Henry II. Dr. 
 Doyle has proved that in these happy times, when 
 children were baptized in buttermilk , tithes were 
 unknown in Ireland, though O'llalloran asserts to 
 the contrary, and assures us his countrymen were 
 such good tithe-payers that every tenth child was 
 thrown in as a tilly. This, doubtless, is an exag- 
 geration of the veracious historian, otherwise we 
 should have heard more of the Rocks during the 
 Milesian era, for it is principally to tithes they owe 
 all their glory. 
 
 CHA PTEE V. 
 
 TRIUMPH OF MY FAMILY FKOM THE TIME OF HENBY 
 II. TO THE PEKIOD OF THE KEFOKMATION. 
 
 The annals of Ireland, from the year 1189 to 
 1509, are nothing more than the history of the 
 Rocks, for during this period insurrection and dis- 
 cord never assumed anything beyond those preda- 
 tory contents in which my family delights. We 
 have always excelled as sharp-shooters, but were 
 known to succeed in regular movements, for though 
 indistructible, as our name imports, we have 
 seldom been found in close columns or ' phalanx 
 firm.' 
 
 In looking over the historians of this period we 
 are forcibly remined of the time in which we live, 
 for between both there is a strange similarity. Dis- 
 content and insubordination reigned then as well as 
 now, and the same reply was given by government 
 to the complaints of the people, namely, ' This is 
 not the time,' Ireland had then her Orangemen, 
 though under another name, and Munster had her 
 Rock, though under another title. There was, it is 
 true, no Catholic disqualification, but Irishmen and 
 enemy were synonymous. 
 
 The history of this period is greatly misunder- 
 stood, and very wrong conceptions respecting it 
 have gone abroad. The English are uniformly 
 described as polished and high-minded invaders, 
 while the Irish, we are told, were barbarous, undis- 
 ciplined and weak. Now what is the fact ? Does 
 not ev-ry thing concur in showing that Strongbow 
 and his followers were mere free-booters, impelled 
 by love and plunder, and indebted to Irish treachery 
 for success? They were received as guests, and 
 protected by their host; while the monarchs of the 
 country considered them so insignificant that they 
 disdained a quarrel with them, and renewed their 
 private hostilities while the Welsh adventurers were 
 revelling in Dublin. 'Ihe slightest effort would 
 have crushed them; but this was not made, and the 
 absence of the attempt is attributed to Irish cowar- 
 dice. 
 
 The English authority , during those three hundred 
 and twenty years, was, in every sense of the word, 
 circumscribed within very narrow limits; and that 
 
 ayoM ,>.H'i 
 
 .ua^ivioo'o •so rHAHU aHT 
 
IRISH MISCELLAlSr. 
 
 307 
 
 they were only permitted, by courtesy, to remainin 
 the kingdom, is evident from the fact that, when- 
 ever they presumed to pass their prescribed limits, 
 they were quickly chased within the pale. Nay, 
 they paid tribuc, under the title of ' Black Mail,' 
 for the liberty of remaining in the country; and 
 more than one of my ancestors enacted this proof 
 of dependency at the very gates of Dublin. The 
 Irish never attempted, nor ever desired, the ejpul- 
 sion of the English, or they could have accomplish- 
 ed it at any time in twenty-four hours. They were 
 a martial people; and, like a cat with her prey, 
 delighted to amuse their pugnacious propensities 
 with the strangers,' whom they regarded as harmless 
 and insignificant opponents. 
 
 Latter historians have ascribed the feelings and 
 institutions of their own times to the people of this 
 period, and then wondered at the obstinacy of the 
 Irish in not embracing the English laws. Silly 
 men ! there was then nothing attractive in them; 
 and Britons, compared with Irishmen, were mere 
 slaves. The former were the serfs of barons, while 
 the latter were independent followers of a chieftain 
 chosen by themselves. The election of their rulers 
 was gratifying and popular, and an equality of 
 their rights was universal. Justice was administer- 
 ed by an independent judge; they paid no tithes, and 
 the will of the monarch was wisely limited by 
 depriving him of any control over the finances of 
 his kingdom. Gavelkind then prevailed, and a 
 better proof we cannot have of popular government, 
 for this system completely destroyed all monopoly, 
 and secured the poor man from any dependence on 
 the rich. At this time no inconvenience attended 
 this method, for there few enclosurers; pasturage 
 was the practice of the country, and our ancestors 
 knew so little of agriculture, that sickles or reap- 
 ing-hooks are of very modern invention, and they 
 yoked the horse to the plough by his tail. So at- 
 tached were they to this method, that prohibitory 
 statutes were passed in vain, the fines in 1612, for 
 disobedience, amounting to eight hundred and 
 seventy pounds, being a penalty oi ten shillings 
 each on 1740 ploughs. What laws could not 
 effect, fashion soon accomplished, for the farrier's 
 knife proved more salutary in destroying the cus- 
 tom than acts of parliament. 
 
 Men are generally the best judges of what im- 
 mediately concerns their own advantages, and 
 when we find the English colonists embracing the 
 Irish laws, customs and manners, we have every 
 right to conclude that these were more congenial 
 and atiraciive than their own. English by birih, 
 ■were well known terms of distinction; and the latter, 
 in time, became as odious as the O's and Mac's them- 
 selves. 
 
 This short review of Irish history sufficiently accounts 
 for the indiffereLCP- displayed by my countrymen to- 
 wards the mild and humane laws of England; and, if 
 we cant a further reason, we have it in ibe conduct of 
 the new settlers, who 'found it more for their interest,' 
 says Lelaad, 'tnat a free course should be left to their 
 oppressions; ih-it many of those whose lands they 
 coveted should be considered as aliens; they should be 
 furnished for their petty wars by arbitrary exactions; 
 and, in their rapines and massacres, he freed from the 
 terrors of a rigidly impartial tribunal.' Those polished 
 and chivalrous adventurers, therefore, represented 
 the Irish as a race utterly irreclaimable, and their 
 countrymen have kept up the fashion. In Swift's 
 time the same language was common, and some men 
 in our day have had courage enough to repeat the same 
 old story. 
 
 The Irish of the pale, like the host of the porcupine, 
 soon found that they had adraitttd a very disagreeable 
 guest ; but, with their usual hospitality, unwilling to 
 eject them, they petitioned Edward the First to bo al- 
 lowed the benefit of the English laws. To a request 
 so reasonable the monarch would have consented, were 
 it not for the barons, alias the Bldoos, of the day, who 
 
 in support of the Englibh interest, assured Edward 
 that the measure was not possible under the existing 
 state of things; that the kingdom was in too great fer- 
 ment and commotion, &c. Thus we find Irishmen ex- 
 cluded from justice by a policy which is conlinuud by 
 the Protestant ascendency of the present day. 
 
 Still my countrymen had such an inconvenient love 
 of justice, that, fifty years after, they renewed their 
 petition, which met, it is needless to say, a similar fate; 
 for, had it been successful, the glory of the Rocks 
 might have been eclipsed for over; on such slender cir- 
 cumstances dopened the destinies of men I 
 
 On the rejection of this petition, up rose the O's and 
 Mac's, and carried the flame of war through those 
 classic regions of turbulence, Munster, Mcath, &c. 
 which still ' live in numbers and look green in song;' 
 and so weak, says the historian, were the English, that 
 want of concert among the Irish prevented their exter- 
 mination. Yet so insolent were the legislators of the 
 period, that they passed the following penal laws : — 
 'It was enjoined, by royal mandate, that no more Irish- 
 men should be admitted into any ofiice or trust in any 
 city, borough, or castle, in the king's land.' Again, 
 by parliamentary ordinance, called the Statutes of 
 Kilkenny, it was enacted ' that marriage, nurture of 
 infants, and gossipud with the Irish, should be consid- 
 ered and punished as high treason.' It was also made 
 penal to the English to permit an Irish cow to graze 
 their land; and as these governing Goths had no ear 
 for harmony, they proscribed our venerated bards,_who, 
 they said, perverted the imagination by romantic tales. 
 Our music at this period incontestably proves that we 
 were more civilized than our rulers. 
 
 This uniform and perfect system of policy produced 
 its proper fruit. The Kocks were everywhere active; 
 and it is not a little singular that in the distant epochs 
 of Henry IV., Elizabeth, and George III., we find the 
 noble and English name of Fitzgerald ' flaming in the 
 front ' of rebellion. 
 
 That the activity of the Rocks does not depend upon 
 reUgious differences must be apparent from the follow- 
 ing historical extracts relative to the period which im- 
 mediately preceded the reformation. 
 
 'In the reign of Henry VII., 1504, a general con- 
 federation of the Irish princes took place, headed by 
 Ulrick Burke, Turloh O'Brien, Melrony O'Carrol, 
 &c., &c., who collected the greatest army that had been 
 in Ireland since the conquest. They fought a bloody 
 and hard-contested battle with the Lord Deputy Kil- 
 dare, at Knocklow, in Connaught. 
 
 ' In Henry VIII.'s reign, before the reformation, the 
 English were defeated at Monetrar, by an army under 
 the command of the Earl of Desmond's son, Tirlagh 
 O'Brien, and M'VVilliam. (Ann. 1510.) 
 
 •In the year 1513, M'William took the Castle of 
 Dunluse, and we read that the ' Irish met with very 
 little opposition this winter; they ravaged the country 
 as they pleased, but they paid dear lor it next spring. 
 
 'In 1514, we find the Deputy attacking the Irish 
 chieftains, O'Moor and O'Reyly. 
 
 'In 1516, the deputy slew Shane O'Tuathal, besieged 
 Lemevan Castle, took Clonmel, invaded Ulster, took 
 the Castle of Dundrum, conquered Fylemy M'Gennis, 
 and (as it was technically termed in those daysj prey- 
 ed Tyrone. The citizens of Dublin were likewise de- 
 feated in Imale. 
 
 'In 1519, Con O'Nial invaded Meath. 
 
 'In 1521, we find mention of the Byrnes being in re- 
 bellion. 
 
 'The same year a confederate army of the O'Mor- 
 dris, O'Connors, and O'Cairols, defeated the English. 
 
 'In 1523, the Earl of Desmond, meditating a rebel- 
 lion, applied to the French king for assistance. 
 
 'In 1523, O'Nial was in rebellion; 
 
 'In 1528, we find the English power so reduced, that 
 they paid tribute (called black rents) to the Irish chief- 
 tains for protection. O'Connor invaded even the 
 pale; the lord deputy was too weak to revenge the 
 injury, but withheld O'Connor's pension;0'Connor, in 
 return, took the deputy prisoner. 
 
 'In 1520, Kildare, by means of his daughter. Lady 
 Slane, raited a great confederacy among the Irish 
 
 chieftains. In the same year, a negotiation between 
 the Emperor Charles V. and the Earl of Desmond 
 only proved inefi'ectual by the eail's death. 
 
 'Fresh insurrections of the O'Tuathals, O'Connors 
 and O'Carrols eucceeded, and were dosed by the 
 great rebellion of Lord Thomas Fitzgerald, which 
 bring us to the period of the reformation.' 
 
 Were not these fine times for the genius of Rock- 
 ism 1 
 
 CHArXER VI. 
 THE PR00EES3 OF HOCKISM. 
 
 Some have gone so far as to assert that the Rocks 
 of Ireland and the Wrongheads of England are iden- 
 tically the same; it being observed that, whenever riot 
 revels in one country, the most profound tranquility 
 reigns in the other. And as we do not possess, like 
 Sir Boyle Roache's bird, the power of ubiquity, it is 
 inferred that our presence in one kingdom naturally 
 enough implies our absence in the other. This, how- 
 ever, is an hypothesis unworthy of serious refutation, 
 for it is well known that the Rocks of Ireland bear no 
 affinity to the ' Chieftains ' of England, having much 
 more of the devil in them, and being by far more ec- 
 centric and mercurial. It is, notwithstanding, a sin- 
 gular fact that these two kingdoms, in a moral point 
 of view, are the very antipodes of each other, and, as 
 if the union between them, like many other unions, 
 were unnatural, and productive of discordant feelings, 
 they pull different ways. What one does, the other 
 will not do, and when one fights the other will stand 
 still. Rebellion in England has uniformly produced 
 peace in Ireland, and vice versa. When the radicals 
 were turning every thing upside down in the one. 
 Rock was quite sober in the other; but, when Hunt 
 commenced the manufacture of ' blacking,' the cap- 
 tain arose from his slumbers, and kept the police at 
 bay. 
 
 The same system prevailed at the time of the refor- 
 mation; for, while the English people showed a pliancy 
 of disposition truly laudable, in following their capri- 
 cious monarch through every variety of mystery and 
 murder — complying with all his whims, whether he 
 beheaded his wife, or cut out for them a new creed — 
 the Irish people laughed at the ridiculous movements 
 of Britain, and remained firm to the faith of their 
 fathers. The inactivity of my ancestors at this perisd is 
 attributed to their high respect for the name of 'King;' 
 and whether their title was conferred or assumed, they 
 had sense enough not to inquire, but dutifully ac- 
 knowledged the sovereignly of Henry, and hastened to 
 Dublin to pay homage to the monarch who had quar- 
 tered the arms of Ireland — the harp — with those of 
 England. Ho had as many names as a Spaniard, viz: 
 Carroll M'Murchard O'Kavanagh Rock. 
 
 In this state of dishonorable apathy my countrymen 
 might have continued, had it not been for Sir Anthony 
 St. Legcr, who, like Mr. Goulburn, finding the nation 
 tranquil, determined to keep it so; and as the wisdom 
 of our legislators has always been the same, the 
 method he resorted to was not unlike that adopted by 
 our modern Scions, who suppressed tlie Catholic As- 
 sociation, for ' he made it his business,' says Sir 
 Richard Cox, the apologist for every bad action of a 
 deputy, ' to break the dependencies of the Irish, and 
 to that end, upon all references to him, he took care 
 that the weaker party might depend upon the govern- 
 ment for protection.' This, perhaps, was not bad 
 policy, though a barefaced interference with existing 
 rights ; but the Rocks of the day could not endure 
 such presumption in a ' sassanarh,' and accordingly 
 once more sounded the tocsin of discord. 
 
 The Irish, thongh described as mercurial and incon- 
 stant have adhered with heroic fidelity to their ancient 
 faith' while their neighbors have exhibited in religion 
 strange versatility of characters, obeying, in each 
 successive reign, the will of the monarch in all matters 
 of theology. 
 
 Many worthy persons contrived to retain their 
 places during the reigns of Henry, Edward and Mary, 
 notwithstanding the very opposite interests which 
 
308 
 
 HUSH MISCELLANY. 
 
 prevailed. Latimer was a kind of religious lamc- 
 leoQ, having clinngcd his opinions no less than eight 
 times, and Cranmer's mutations were so many, that 
 historians hare forgot to enumerate thum. Even 
 in the parliament convened in Ireland, ' most of 
 the temporal lords,' says Leland, ' were those 
 ■whose descendants, even to our own days, continue 
 firmly attached to the llomish communion; but far 
 the greater part of the prelates were such as quietly 
 enjoyed their sees by conforming, occasionally, to 
 different modes of religion.' 
 
 Although the formal identity of religion proved 
 no preservation against mutual vituperation, yet 
 the fame of the Rocks is not a little indebted to the 
 introduction of reformation among us. The bearer 
 of this pure blessing was the mild and tolerant 
 Bishop Bale, whose holy mantle has descended to 
 Archbishop Magee, a prelate not very unlike his 
 predecessor. Both substituted arrogance for dig- 
 nity, and thought apparent religious zeal atoned 
 for their poverty of birth. 'I^he inferior clergy were 
 not better calculated than their principal for dis- 
 Beminating the novel creed. Spenser asserts that 
 they were ' bad, licentious, and most disordered; 
 they were distinguished for the grossest simony, 
 the most rapicious avarice, and the most shameful 
 neglect of professional duties. The fruits of their 
 livings were gathered with extortion, to be squan- 
 dered in intemperance and sensuality. Conscious 
 of their own unworthiness, they were slavishly 
 subservient to their bishops, upon whose pleasure 
 the duration of their incumbency depended. Those 
 bishops received a regular tribute out of the benefi- 
 ces of their clergy, and some even retained in their 
 own hands the livings in their donation, and ap- 
 pointed their menial servants to collect their reven- 
 ues. It may be added that the reforming clergy 
 were entirely ignorant of the Irish language; which, 
 in spite of repeated enactments to restrain it, had 
 long becomejlhe predominant dialect of the nation.' 
 
 The conduct of the Protestant laity, in recom- 
 mending the reformed creed, was not less attractive 
 than that of the clergy. 'Under pretence of obey- 
 ing the orders of the state,' says Leland, 'they 
 seized all the most valuable furniture of the churches, 
 •which they exposed to sale without decency or 
 reserve. The Irish annalists pathetically describe 
 the garrison of Athlone, issuing forth with a bar- 
 barous and heathen fury, and pillaging the famous 
 church of Clonmacnoise, tearing away the most 
 inoffensive ornaments, so as to leave the shrine of 
 their favorite Saint, Kieran, a hideous monument 
 of sacrilege.' This venerable crosier of St. Patrick, 
 too, was committed by these Goths to the flames. 
 Is it any wonder that the Kocks of that period were 
 active and useful i 
 
 The Arab, in his journey over deserts of sand, 
 is sometimes relieved by the green spots which 
 appear more lovely from the surrounding sterility. 
 So the Irish historian, while obliged to descrioe 
 deeds of repugnant and cruel atrocity, has 
 the satisfaction of recording actions of hero- 
 ism and traits of national virtue. Thus, while the 
 ignorance of immorality of the I'rotestant clergy, 
 and the barbarism of the Protestant laity, excite 
 our imdivided detestation, it is a pleasing relief to 
 be able then, as well as now, to refer to the pious 
 conduct and exemplary morals of our beloved 
 priests, who were at the time of reformation, as 
 well as subsequently, regarded by the Irish people 
 with the ^utmost veneration. A remarkable in- 
 stance of this occurred towards the end of Eliza- 
 beth's reign. The Castle of Cloghan was besieged 
 by Her Majesty's forces; and the brother of the 
 constable, who had charge of the castle, was a 
 prisoner in the hands of the besiegers. Their com- 
 manding officer, understanding that a Catholic 
 priest was harbored in tlje castle, sent word to the 
 constable that, unless he immediately surrendered, 
 his brother should be hung in his sight. The con- 
 
 stable refused to surrender, as he knew no quarter 
 would be given to the priest, and the execution of 
 his brother took place before his eyes. Yet in four 
 days after, when the priest had been transferred to 
 B place of safety, the governor capitulated. 
 
 During the reign of Queer. Mary, my lamily 
 tremblid lor their future destinies, as the Catholics, 
 ou their resumption of power, contrary to our most 
 sanguine expectations, refused to butcher their 
 Protestant countrymen. Nay, they even went so 
 far as to afford many of the persecuted Protestants 
 of England an asylum in Ireland. Under these 
 circumstances, we were apprehensive of a total de- 
 clension of our power; but, still hoping for the 
 best, we kept our hands in practice by quarrelling 
 among ourselves. Good soldiers are are only made 
 in a protracted war, said Bonaparte, and it was well 
 for us that we kept our swords from rust, for the 
 reign of Elizabeth required an edge sharper than 
 usual. One of my ancestors, who battled through 
 the whole of it, has transmitted to his descendants 
 the high honor of having been personally engaged 
 in forty rebellions, as well as in some local insur- 
 rections, which he threw in as make-weights. At 
 Castle of the Pass of Plumes, he plucked a feather 
 from the ^y young Earl of Essex's cap, which 
 still remains at Rockglen, as a relio of his bravery. 
 
 Among the arch-tyrants of this reign, the name 
 ofLord Let'nard Gray stands pre-eminent. 'The 
 Queen was assured," says Leland, ' that he tyran- 
 nized with such barbarity, that liitle was left in 
 Ireland for Her Majesty to reign over but ashes and 
 dead carcases.' In the year 1583, the garrison of 
 Lmerwick, in Kerry, surrendered to this nobleman 
 upon a promise of mercy. An ofhcer, of the name 
 of 'Wingficld, was commissioned to disarm them. 
 The garrison was then immediately put to the sword, 
 and it is painful to add that the instrument of this 
 detestable service was Sir Walter Kaleigh. Forty 
 thousand acres of land, in the county of Cork, were 
 the recompense of this and similar exploits, which 
 estate Sir Walter afterwards sold to Richard, first 
 Earl of Orrery. 
 
 About the same period, O'Nlal, Chieftain of 
 Claneboy, with many of his relatives., was invited 
 to an entertainment by Walter, Earl of Essex. 
 Three days and three nights were past in mirth and 
 revelrj-. On the fourth, O'Nial, with his wife and 
 brother, was suddenly arrested. His friends were 
 slaughtered in his presence, even the women and 
 children were not spared, and the chieftain himself, 
 with his wife and brother, were sent to Dublin, 
 and there, as the Chronicle informs us, ' were cut 
 in quarters.' No immediate provocation was even 
 pretended for this barbarous perfidy, which must 
 affix an indeliable stigma to the character of its con- 
 triver. 
 
 Passing over the fate of M'Mahan, O'Neil and 
 O'Donnell, we come to that of the Earl of Desmond, 
 and with his case I shall close my remarks on the 
 revolting scenes which this reign presents. I am 
 not writing a history of Ireland, I am only traci..g 
 the causes which led to the renown of the Rocks. 
 
 The Earl of Desmond, an Englishman by descent 
 but who had long conformed to Irish laws and 
 customs, possessed a vast estate in the province of 
 Munster, his family was one of the most ancient in 
 Ireland, and upwards of five hundred gentlemen of 
 his own name and race, says Baker, were obedient 
 to his commands. It by no means appears that, 
 before he was proclaimed a tralor, in 1579, he had 
 committed an overt act of treason, for it is impos- 
 sible to consider as such his private family quarrels 
 with the Earl of Ormond. About a month before 
 the proclamation, the Countess of Desmond had 
 delivered up their only son, and two ecclesiastics 
 of noble birth, to Sir William Drury, Lord Justice 
 of Limerick, as pledges of the loyalty of the eari. 
 Nor can we find that anything amounting to more 
 than mere suspicion was alleged against him, 
 
 founded on some casual delay in drawing out his 
 torces against his own broihir, who had first ap- 
 peared in arms. It is no trifling confirmation of 
 his previous innocence that the bills for his attainder 
 were not received in the council without much diffi- 
 culty, nor pasHcd with considerable opposition. 
 
 When Desmond was thus driven into rebellion, it 
 must be owed that he committed many excesses. 
 At the head of his own depend'-nts, and an auxiliary 
 force of Spaniards and Italians, he took the tO'S'n of 
 Youghall, which was devoted to indiscriminate 
 plunder. Even the churches were not spared, and 
 the superstition of the Irish writers has attributed 
 the downfall of Desmond to the .sacrilege of his fol- 
 lowers. As some palliation, however, of these and 
 other enormities, let us remember the provocations 
 he received, the impriosonment of his son, and the 
 execution of the other hostages he had delivered, 
 previously to any open acts of hostility. 
 
 The vengeance, however, of his enemies was 
 signal and severe. His territories were ravaged, 
 and his people slaughtered. Numbers of his un- 
 fortunate vassals were formed into castles and 
 houses, which were then set on fire, the soldiers 
 shooting or stabbing the wretches who attempted 
 to escape. To carry infants on the point of their 
 spears, and enjoy their tortures, was a favorite re- 
 creation. Numbers of women were found hanging 
 upon trees, with their children strangled with their 
 mother's hair. Famine completed what the sword 
 had begun, and pestilence succeeded to conflagra- 
 tion. Spenser has lefi us a tremendous description 
 of the calamities of this ill-fated province. The 
 unhappy people crept out of the woods, for they 
 were unable to w alk — flocked as to a feast to every 
 plot of grass that was visible — devoured the carrion 
 that strewed their plains and poisoned their at- 
 mosphere, and actually scraped the putrefying 
 carcass from the grave, to appease the cravings of 
 intolerable hunger. A tract of country, w hich had 
 once been the most fertile and populous in Ireland, 
 was thus suddenly converted into a barren and 
 uninhabited wilderness. 
 
 The reader, perhaps, may be curious to learn the 
 fate of Desmond himself. This unfortunate noble- 
 man, bending under the weight of years, was com- 
 pelled, like an abject outlaw, to make refuge in his 
 own forests. The countess, upon her kness, and 
 in tears, had in vain besought the viceroy for his 
 forgiveness. The earl was no longer formidable as 
 an enemy, and his estates was a forfeiture too 
 tempting to be relinquished. He was therefore 
 pursued to destruction, and his own relative, but 
 implacable enemy, the Earl of Ormond, was selected 
 as the arbiter of his destiny. Deserted by all, 
 except four of his followers, he had taken shelter in 
 a miserable hut, where he was discovered by a 
 partisan of Ormond's, of the name of Kelly, who, 
 with a body of soldiers, had been commissioned to 
 pursue him. This leader, on entering the hut, 
 found that all had fled, except one man of a venera- 
 ble aspect, who was languidly stretched before a 
 half-expiring fire. This person Kelly instantly 
 assailed and wounded. ' Spare me,' he exclaimed, 
 ' for I am the Earl of Desmond !' The other im- 
 mediately struck off his head, and brought it to 
 Ormond, by whom it was sent to the Queen, and 
 impaled on London Bridge. Thus perished the 
 once powerful Earl of Desmond, the lord of many 
 counties, whose estate contained six hundred thou- 
 sand acres, and whose influence extended over the 
 entire of the south of Ireland — a descendant of the 
 ancient kings of the province, commanding in per- 
 son, dignified in asccpt, and possessing in a high 
 degree those virtues of hospitality, generosity, and 
 courage, which the selfish apathy of modern refine- 
 ment has stigmatized by the epithet of barbarous. 
 A witness to the downfall of his house, the extirpa- 
 tion of his kindred, and the ruin of his country, 
 reduced to the lowest privations of nakedness and 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 309 
 
 hunger, deserted by every friend, at night, alone, 
 in a wretched hovel, he fell by the base hand of an 
 obscure and hireling murderer. In this leign Ire- 
 land was completely subjugated. 
 
 [To bo Continued.] 
 
 A NOVEL STORY. 
 
 Some few years since, amongst many passengers 
 that landed from a Liverpool vessel, after a rough 
 Toyage, was a sun-burned, well looking man, 
 seemingly about forty; on coming on shore, he fer- 
 vently thanked God for again finding himself on 
 Irish ground, adding, that he had trod many a 
 ■weary step with a heavy heart since he had loft it. 
 He accompanied the rest of the voyagers to one of 
 the best inns— the term hotel was not then used. 
 On arriving there the head waiter glanced at him 
 the supercilious e.xpression that is not uncommon 
 now amongst those gentry — the brethren of the 
 knife and fork — when they suppose the person can- 
 not satisfy their rapacity, and turned him over to 
 the care of an underling, a fine lad. The stranger 
 ordered dinner, and a retired room; and, after din- 
 ner, desired the attendant to bring whiskey, lemons, 
 &c., to make punch, saying it was a long time 
 since he had tasted his native liquor. Come, my 
 boy, here is a glass of wine for you; you have at- 
 tended me well, but I am sorry to see one so young 
 in your situation — a bad school for you; how old 
 are you?' 
 ' Fifteen, if you please, sir, next Michaelmas.' 
 • Ah, my !' exclaimed the stranger with a sigh ; 
 ' young, indeed, to be left to yourself ; have you no 
 friend that could do better for you ?' 
 ' My mother is living here also.' 
 ' Your mother — that is well; no doubt she is care- 
 ful of you; and your father — where is he ?' 
 
 ' I never saw him, sir. My mother says he is 
 dead,' replied the lad in confusion. 
 
 The stranger concluded from the boy's manner 
 that he was illegitimate, and asked no further. 
 When left to himself he began to think over the 
 events of his past life, and few pass such retrospect 
 without mixed sensations of weal and woe. ' I 
 had my trials,' said he, ' who is without them ? 
 God be praised for all ! — here I am again, a richer 
 man than ever I could have expected to have been; 
 and sweet is the wealth that has been acquired in- 
 nocently, by honest fair labor, under the help of 
 God. I have now but one wish to have granted; 
 but on that hangs all my future happiness. If she 
 be dead or married, what will become of me ? yet if 
 ever woman was to be trusted it was herself.' 
 
 Time passed unheeded, as the stranger mused on 
 his own affairs, till the clock, striking eleven, roused 
 him. ' Come, there's no use in thinking; a night's 
 rest will do me more good than all my waking 
 thoughts. I will ring for the little waiter; I like 
 that lad, and must not lose sight of him if my own 
 matters go on well. He has a handsome Irish face, 
 with all the freshness of youth and innocence. 
 Alas ! I have not seen such for a long time; yet his 
 features are familiar to me, too, though I cannot re- 
 member who I have seen like him; in a dream, per- 
 haps ' — here the lad entered, rubbing his eyes. 
 ' Did you ring, sir ?' 
 
 ' Ay, my poor child, I have kept you up too long; 
 but all shall be settled to-morrow. Is my luggage 
 in my room ?' 
 
 ' Yes, sir, and a good fire there.' 
 ' Well, my boy, show me the way.' 
 The housemaid, a handsome woman, w "! settling 
 the luggage as the stranger entered;' the lad left the 
 light on the table and withdrew; the housemaid was 
 about to follow — 
 
 ' That waiter is a fine lad, who is he ?' 
 ' My son, please your honor; and, though I say 
 it, a better boy never lived, goodness be praised for 
 it.' 
 ' Your eor.,' said the stranger, looking sharply at 
 
 her; ' why you seem too 
 young to be his mother; 
 you are then married ? ' 
 • I am — 1 was,' she replied 
 with a sigh, and moved 
 towards the door. ' Stop 
 a minute; the lad is like 
 you; is he also like his 
 father f ' Instead of re- 
 plying, she asked whether 
 he wanted anything more 
 in his room, and was again 
 leaving it. ' Not in such 
 a haste,' said the stranger; 
 'nay, don't be alarmed. I 
 have taken a fancy to your 
 son, -would you let him go 
 with me ? I would be 
 careful of him as my own.' 
 ' Thank j'our honor kind- 
 ly.' 'What is your name?' 
 Jessy Mahony.' The 
 stranger started ; but, re- 
 covering, asked in a faint voice — 
 ' Is that your husband's name ?' 
 •I knew one Mick Mahony abroad, perhaps he 
 was your husband.' 
 
 ' Oh, that I could say it was ! but that is impos- 
 sible; I saw his corpse after he was drowned; oh, 
 could I have but one sight of my Mick again, I 
 could die happy.' 
 
 The stranger caught her in his arms. ' Dear 
 Jessy, I am your Mick Mahony. I was not drowned; 
 but Peter Dunne was, that trapped me on board 
 the trading vessel. He took my clothes; but God is 
 just; and Peter got drunk with the money he got 
 for kidnapping an able seaman, such as I was then, 
 and he tumbled into the Liffey. I saw him fall. 
 Meanwhile Jessy pondered over what she had 
 heard, and knew not what to think. The corpse 
 was in her husband's clothes, but so disfigured from 
 lying in the water, that otherwise she could not 
 have thought it her husband; but then there was no 
 account of him, and the circumstance of a body 
 being found of her husband's size, colored hair, and 
 in his clothes, made her certain that her poor Mick 
 had perished. She glanced at herself in the mirror. 
 ' I ,might be known for the wife Mick left;' she 
 thought, ' but can this strange colored man, with 
 white hair, be my clean-skinned, black-haired, 
 youthful Mick ? Though my heart warms to him, 
 I will be cautious. It's not long since Biddy Casey 
 was tricked by a man that set up for her husband, 
 just returned from foreign parts !' Mick Mahony 
 seemed to understand his wife's scruples, and 
 thought how he could remove them. 
 
 ' Why woman, have you forgotten all your Irish, 
 that I taught you when we were courting, and you 
 but a slip of a girl; do you forget how often you 
 and lame Joan would try to keep me from my work 
 to give you a lesson ?' 
 
 ' I do, I do remember it well; but what did you 
 say to us when you wanted to put off my lesson till 
 evening, when your work would be finished ?' 
 
 ' Luidheaun cruadhtan for dhiomhaoineas,' said 
 he eagerly. 
 
 ' My own darlint Mick, and no other,' e-xclaimed 
 Jessy, transported with joy. 
 
 TEllENCE'S PAREWELL. 
 
 the authoress of the following song. She has written 
 many, all of great excellence, but none can evoke their 
 mirth or their tenderness with such point or pathos as 
 the fair and noble lady herself : — 
 
 So, my Kathleen, you're going to leave me 
 
 All alone by myself in this place, 
 But I'm sure you will never deceive me, 
 
 Oh no, if there's truth in that face. 
 T-iough England's a beautiful city, 
 
 Full of illjgant boys, oh what then — 
 You would'nt forget your poor Terrence, 
 
 You'll come back to ould Ireland again. 
 
 Och, those English, deceivers by nature, 
 
 Though maybe you'd thiuk them sincere, 
 They'll say you're a sweet charming creature. 
 
 But don't you believe them, my dear. 
 No, Kathleen, agra, don't be minding 
 
 The flattering speeches they'll make. 
 Just tell them a poor boy in Ireland 
 
 Is breaking his heart for your sake. 
 
 It's a folly to keep you from going, 
 
 Though, faith, it's a mighty hard case — 
 For, Kathleen , you know, there's no knowing 
 
 When next I shall see your sweet face. 
 And when you come back to me, Kathleen, 
 
 None the better will I be off then — 
 You'll bespaking such beautiful English, 
 
 Sure I won't know my Kathleen again. 
 
 Eh, now, Where's the need of this hurry — 
 
 Don't flutter me so in this way — . 
 I've forgot, 'twi-xt the grief and the flurry, 
 
 Every word I was maning to say; 
 Now just wait a minute, I bid ye, — 
 
 Can I talk if ye bother me so? 
 Oh, Kathleen, my blessing go widye, 
 
 Ev'ry inch of the way that you go. 
 
 TERENCE'S FAREWELL. 
 
 Ladt DoFFERiN. — Seldom runs tlic tiJo of talent 
 so strongly through successive generations as it has 
 done in the distinguished family of Slieridan. First 
 springing into literary notice in tlic days of Swift, we 
 see, in the witty Dean's lively correspondent, the 
 grandfather of the illustrious KIchard Brinsiey Sheri- 
 dan, commemorated by Thomas Moore, in his match- 
 less monody, as — 
 
 I'lic orator, dramatist, minstrel, who ran 
 TUro' lidcli mode of tlic lyre, and master ol all. 
 Through Uim is descended <in tho sixtli generation) 
 
 Keeping Silk Articles in Good Ordeb. — 
 Silk articles should not be kept folded in white paper, 
 as the chloride of lime used in bleaching the paper will 
 be apt to impair tbe color of the silk. Brown or blue 
 paper is better ; the yellowish, smooth India paper is, 
 best of all. Silk intended for dresses should not be 
 kept long in the house before it is made up, as lying in 
 the folds will have a tendency to impair its durability, 
 by causing it to cut or split. Hard silk should never 
 bo wrinkled, because tho thread is easily broken in the 
 crease, and it can never be rectified. To take the 
 wrinkles out of silk scarfs or handkerchiefs, is to 
 moisten the surface evenly willi a sponge and some 
 weak glue, and then pin the silk with some toilet pins 
 around tho shelves on a mattrass or feather bed, taking 
 pains to draw out the silk as light as possible. When 
 dry, the wrinkles will have disappeared. 
 
 Not Fond of Light Food. — 'Glass pud in, glass 
 pud in,' shouted a Polish glazier in one of our side 
 streets. 
 
 ' No, thank you,' replied a passer-by, 'I'm not fond 
 of glass pudding ; its very apt to give one ' panes ' in 
 tbe stomach .' 
 
310 
 
 IRISH 311SCELLANY. 
 
 NATURE'S GENTLEMAN. 
 [The following; bcaaiiful prn. '.action, so (iesoriptivo 
 of II true geniluniiin, is from ihu pen of en Irish Indy, 
 and n<is hamlcd ua aonie time since, at the sarao time 
 aoliciting uur opinion rs to whether it possessed sufK- 
 rient merit to entitle it to publication. We had it pub> 
 lishcd in the Lawrence Sentinel at the lime, and now 
 fell proud, in our present position, to bo able to trans- 
 fer it to the paces of the Miscellany, as it will be more 
 ouircrsally rend and admired by her country people. — 
 £d. Irish Mis] 
 
 'Whom do we dub aa geatlemeu? the knave, the fool, the 
 
 brute, 
 If tbey but own full titbe of gold, and wear a oourlly 
 
 suit; 
 The parobment ioroll of titled line, the ribbon ou the knee. 
 Can !till sulDce to grallf.r and grant such bi^b degree. 
 But nature, with a matchless hand, sends forth her nobly 
 
 bom. 
 And laugba the paltry attributes of wealth and rank to 
 
 scorn ; 
 She moulds with care a spirit rare, half human, half divine, 
 And cries, exultiug, ' Who con moke a gentleman like 
 
 mine ? ' 
 She may not spend her common skill about the outward 
 
 part. 
 But showers beauty, grace and light upon the brain and 
 
 heart; 
 8he may not choose ancestral fame, his pathway to il- 
 lume. 
 The sun that sheds the brightest rny, may rise in mist and 
 
 gloom. 
 Should Fortune pour her welcome store, and useful gold 
 
 abound, 
 He shares it with a bounteous bond, and scatters blessings 
 
 round; 
 The treasure sent is rightly spent, and serves the end de- 
 signed. 
 When held by NatnrC'8 gentleman — the good, the just, the 
 
 kind; 
 He turns not from the cheerless home where Sorrow's off- 
 springs dwell ; 
 Be'll greet the peasant in bis hut, the pilgrim in bis cell ; 
 Ue stays to bear the widow's plaint of deep and mourning 
 
 love- 
 He seeks to aid her lot below, and prompt her faith above ; 
 The orphan child, the triendless one, the luckless or the 
 
 poor, 
 Will never meet his spuming frown, or leave his bolted 
 
 door; 
 His kindred circles all mankind, his country all the globe; 
 An honest name his jewelled star, and truth his ermine 
 
 robe; 
 He wisely yields his passions up to Keason's firm control ; 
 His pleasures are of crimeless kind, and never taiut the 
 
 soul — 
 He may be thrown among the gay and reckless sons of life, 
 But will not love the revel scene, or bead the brawling 
 
 strife ; 
 He wounds no breast with jeer or jest, bears no honeyed 
 
 tongue; 
 He's social with the gray-haired oae, and merry with the 
 
 young; 
 He gravely shares the council speech, or joins the rustic 
 
 game. 
 And shines as Nature's gentleman in every place the same. 
 No haughty gesture marks his gait, no pompous tone his 
 
 word ; 
 Ko studdicd attitude is seen, no palling nonsence heard ; 
 He'll suit h's bearing to the hour— lough, listen, learn or 
 
 teach — 
 With joyous freedom in hit mirth, and candor in his 
 
 speech; 
 He worships God with inward zeal, and serves him in each 
 
 deed- 
 He would not blame another's iaith, nor have one martyr 
 
 bleed ; 
 Justice and mercy lorm his code, he puts his trust in 
 
 heaven — 
 His prayer is, if the heart mean well, may all else be for- 
 given. 
 Though few of such may gem the earth, yet such rare gems 
 
 there are. 
 Each shining in his hallowed sphere as Virtue's polar star; 
 Though human hearts too olt are found all gross, corrupt 
 
 and dark, 
 Tet, yet some bosoms breathe and bam, Ut by Promethean 
 
 spark ; 
 There arc some spirits nobly jost, nnwarpedby pelf or 
 
 pride, 
 Ureat in the calm, but greater still when dashed by adverse 
 
 tide. 
 They hold the rank no king can give, no station can dis- 
 grace, 
 Kature puts forth her gentleman, and monarohs must 
 
 place. 
 
 AUNT NABBV'S STEWED GOOSE. 
 
 Tt -was Aunt Nabby's birthday, and slie was bent 
 upon having n goose titewed in onions, and with cab- 
 bage and salt pork to mntnh. 
 
 'Pullijrth,' said she to niu, 'heu't we got a goose 
 about the farm ?' 
 
 ' No,' said I, 'we cat the old gander at Christmas, 
 and he was the last of the patriarchs." 
 
 Aunt Xabby went down to Sue, who was getting 
 breakfast. 
 
 ' Susannah,' eaid she, ' the boy's tells how we 
 be'ent got a goose in creation ; now what shall we 
 do?" 
 
 ' Go without,' replied Susannah, with that amia- 
 ble tone which so marked her, and which my father 
 said had worn oil' her teeth to the gums. 
 
 But Aunt Nabby was bent upon a goose, and 
 when such a stiff and strait person gets bent upon 
 anything, you may consider the matter settled, and 
 I saw that a goose of some kind would be had at 
 some rate or other. 
 
 ' Here you crittur,' cried Aunt Nabby to the little 
 black specimen of the human family, which was 
 digging potatoes in the garden ; ' here, I want you 
 to go along to the neighbors, and borrar a goose.' 
 
 Cato laid down his hoe, got over the fence, and 
 shovelled off on his broad pedestals to get a goose. 
 The first house that Cato came to was that of Sam 
 Soap, the tailor, formerly called Soft Soap. Into 
 the shop went the yankeefied negro, and making a 
 leg to Mr. Soap, who sat like a Hindoo idol, busily 
 employed in patching an old blue coat, with still 
 older brown rags, and humming most mournfully 
 the air of — 
 
 'Vc banks and braes of Bonny Doon,' 
 giving it a nasal twang that came direct from Jede- 
 diah Soap, who was a member of the Long Parlia- 
 ment. 
 
 ' Soap,' says Cato, ' you hen't got no goose nor 
 nothing, hen't ye, for Aunt Nabby ?' 
 
 Soap was a literal (not literary) man, and so he 
 called to his daughter Propriety, who, having but 
 one eye, was likewise called Justice — that is, by some 
 that were classical. 
 
 ' Priety,' says he, ' gin Cato my goose.' 
 
 Priety, like a good girl, took the broad ilat-iron 
 off the shelf, and telling Cato to be as careful as 
 everlasting not to get it wet, she wrapped it in a 
 paper, and away went the web-footed mortal to de- 
 liver the charge to Susannah. 
 
 ' My gracious,' said Susannah, if that nigger ha'nt 
 got me an iron goose to stew.' 
 
 Bi't, nevertheless, as her business was to stew the 
 goose, and ask no questions, at it she went, and 
 pretty soon the tailor's treasure was simmering 
 among the onions and carrots, and cabbages, and 
 turnips, and spices, all as nice as need to be. After 
 breakfast. Aunt Nabby had gone abroad to ask in 
 the neighbors, and, when she came home, she went, 
 of course, directly to the kitchen to see how the 
 goose came on. 
 
 ' Is it tender, Susannah ?' said she. 
 
 Susannah smiled so sweetly that the old house 
 clock, in the corner ne.\t the cupboard, stopped and 
 held up its hands. 
 
 ' Oh,' ma'am,' replied Susannah, ' it is so tender 
 that I guess 'twontbc anymore tender after being 
 biled.' 
 
 My aun'ts mouth watered so that she was forced 
 to look at Susannah, to correct the agreeable im- 
 pression. 
 
 Well, noon came, and the neighbors began to 
 drop in. First came the parson, who, being a man 
 of vast punctuality, took out his watch as soon as 
 he came in, and for the purpose of seeing how it 
 ' chimed,' he said, with the old clock, walKed into 
 the kitchen, bade Miss Susan a 'good day,' hoped 
 she continued well in body, and snuffed up the 
 sweet tavors of the preparing sacrifice with expand- 
 ed nostrils. 
 
 Next came the squire ; he opened the front door, 
 and, seeing no one but me, 'Polijah,' he said, 
 ' whcn'ill that air goose be done ? cause I'm ever- 
 lasting bu.iy settling that hay-mow ease, and I'd 
 like to know.' 
 
 ' Ready now, squire,' answered the parson, open- 
 ing the kitchen door, ' and I guess it's an uncom- 
 mon fine goose, too, so walk in and let's have a lit- 
 tle chat.' 
 
 'I'he squire entered,and he end the minister had a 
 considerable spell of conversation about that hay- 
 mow case; the ease is this: — Abijah Beggs got 
 leave to carry his hay 'cross Widow Stokes' field 
 to the road ; well, this hay-mow dropped off the 
 polls, and Widow Stokes claimed it as a waif and 
 stray. 
 
 ' Now, said the squire, 'I conceit the chief pint in 
 the ca.se is this here — has AVidow Stokes a right to 
 the hay > Now this 'ill depend, ye see, 'pon 'other 
 pint, to wit, videlicit — does the hay belong to 'Bi- 
 jah ? Now the widow says, says she, every man in 
 this country's free, and therefore every man in this 
 country's a king, ji^t as fur as his farm goes ; now 
 the king,all allowed, has a right to waifs and otrays, 
 and so says Widow Stotes, that air hay's mine. 
 But, says 'Bijah — and, by jinks, it's a cute argu- 
 ment — but, says he, though every man in this land 
 of liberty's a free man, yet that doesn't prove that 
 every woman is; and, per contra, we know that wo- 
 man don't vote and of course ain't free; so, said 
 he, the hay ain't them. But it's a puzzling case, 
 ain't it ?' 
 
 ' Well now,' answered the minister, ' it strikes 
 me that hay ain't a stray." 
 
 'Well,' said the squire, 'that's a point I never 
 ihinked of.' 
 
 Just then in came deacon, and after him the sex- 
 ton, and so on till pretty much all the aristocratic 
 democracy of the village had assembled, and then 
 in bustled Aunt Nabby — awfully fine 1 tell you — 
 and then Susannah and Cato began to bring in din- 
 ner, and while they were doing that, the company 
 all took a stiff class of grog,by way of appetite, and 
 then stroked down their faces and looked at the 
 table, 1 nd there was a pig roast and stuffed, a line 
 of veal, and two old hons, and ' an everlasting sight 
 of all kinds of sauce,' and pies and puddings, and 
 doughnuts, and cider.aud current wine, and, above 
 all, at the head of the table, the dish in which lay 
 the hero of the day, ' that air goosc', smothered in 
 onions, and utterly hid beneath the carrots and cab- 
 bages. 
 
 The seat next the goose was assigned to the min- 
 ister, and all sat down. The squire flourished his 
 ff>rk, and pounced upon the pig ; the deacon he 
 tackled the veal, while the sexton was seriously at 
 work to exhume a piece of baked pork from amid 
 an avalanche of beans. The minister, with a spoon, 
 gently stirred away a few carrots and onions in 
 hopes of thus coming at the goose. 
 
 ' It smells remarkably fine,' said he to Aunt 
 Nabby. 
 
 ' It's particular fat and tender,' she replied, 'I 
 picked it myself from a hole heap." 
 
 And still the minister poked, till at last his spoon 
 grated upon a hard surface. 
 
 ' A skewer, I guess,' he said, and plunged his 
 fork into the onion mass; he struggled to raise the 
 iron handle with which he had joined issue. 
 
 ' Bless me !' cried Aunt Nabby ; ' what's that 
 air ? I should judge that that air was an old 
 goose.' 
 
 ' Gracious me !" exclaimed the deacon. 
 
 Still the minister struggled, and still the goose 
 resisted. Aunt Nabby grew nervous, and the more 
 the minister struggled.the more the goose wouldn't 
 come. I saw my aunt's eye dilating, and her hand 
 moved ugly, and then, pounce — just when the min- 
 ister thought he had conquered the enemy, my 
 aunt's claws drove through the onions, and drag- 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 311 
 
 ging forth the tailor's goose, she held it at arm's 
 length before the company. The squire had 
 just raised the pig upon^his fork, when, seeing my 
 aunt's discovery, he dropped it, and the dish was 
 knocked nil to smash ; the sexton had his beans to 
 the edge of the table ; another pull, as he saw the 
 goose, and over it went. My aunt dropped the 
 cause of this evil, and there went another plate. 
 The company dined elsewhere, and next Sunday 
 the minister declined preaching on account of ado- 
 mestiiJ misfortune. My Aunt Nabby died soon af- 
 ter, and the sextjn buried her, observing, as he did 
 so, that ' she departed , the poor crittur, in conse- 
 quence of an iron goose and broken crockery.' 
 
 DEATH OF BARON DEKALB. 
 
 Immediately on receiving orders of departure, we 
 waited on the good old de Kalb to take our leave, and 
 to express our deep regret at parting with him. ' It is 
 with equal regret, my dear sirs, that I part with you,' 
 said he; ' because 1 feel a presentment that we part to 
 meet no more.' 
 
 We told him we hoped better things. 
 
 'Oh no !' replied he, it is impossible. War is a kind 
 of game, and has its fixed rules, whereby when we are 
 well acquainted with them, we can pretty correctly tell 
 how the trial will go. To morrow, it seems, the die 
 is to be cast; and, in my judgment, without the least 
 chance on our side. The militia will, I suppose, as 
 usaal, play the pack-game — that is, get out of battle as 
 fast as their legs will carry them. But that, you know, 
 won't do for me. I am an old soldier, and cannot run; 
 and believe I have some brave fellows that will stand 
 by me to the last. So, when you hear of our battle, 
 you will probably hei that your old friend, de Kalb, is 
 at rest.' 
 
 I never wis more affected in my live, and I perceived 
 tear in the eyes of General Marion. De Kalb saw 
 them too. and taking us by the hand, he said, with a 
 firm tone, and animated look, 'l^o! no! gentlemen; 
 no emotion for me, but those of congratulations. I 
 am happy. To die is the irreversible decree of Him 
 who made us. Then what joy to be able to meet 
 death without dismay. Tbis, thank God, is my case. 
 The happiness of man is my wish; that happiness I 
 deem inconsistent with slavery. And to avert so great 
 an evil from and innocent people, I will gladly meet the 
 British to-morrow, at any odds whatever.' 
 
 As he spoke this, a tire flashed from his eyes, which 
 seemed to me to demonstrate the divinity of virtue, and 
 the immortality of the soul. We left him with feelings 
 which I shall never forget, while memory maintains 
 her plnce in my aged brain. 
 
 It was on the morning of August 15, 1780, that we 
 left the army in a good position, near Rugely's mills, 
 twelve miles from Camden, where the enemy lay. 
 About ten that night orders were given to march, and 
 surprise the enemy, who had, at the same time, com- 
 menced a march to surprise the Americans. To their 
 mutual astonishment, the advance of boih armies met 
 at two o'clock, and began firing on each other. It was 
 however, soon discontinued by both parties, who ap- 
 peared very willing to leave the matter to be desided 
 by day light. A council of war was called, in which 
 de Kalb advised that the army should fall back to 
 Rugeley's mills, and wait to be attacked. General 
 Gates not only rejected this excellent counsel, but threw 
 out insinuations that it origiuated in fear. Upon this, 
 the brave old mna leaped from his horse, and placed 
 himself at the head of his command on foot, saying, 
 with considerable warmth, ' Well, sir, perhaps a few 
 hours will show who are the brave.' 
 
 As day -light increased, ihe frightened militia began 
 to discover the woods, reddened all over with the scar- 
 let uniform of the British army, which soon, with rat- 
 tling drums and thandering cannon, came rushing on 
 to the charge; and they scarcely waited to give them a 
 distant fire before they broke, and fled in every direc- 
 tion. General Gates claj.pcd spurs to his horse, as he 
 said, 'to bring the rascles back;' nor did he stop till he 
 reached Charlotte, eighty miles from the field of battle. 
 
 Two-thirds of the army having thus shamifully taken 
 themselves off, the bravo old de Kiilb and hi-i handful 
 of continentals were left to try the fortune of the day. 
 More determined valor was never displayed, forthou^'h 
 outnumbered more than two to one, they sustained the 
 whole British force for more than an hour. Glorying 
 in the bravery of his continentals, do Kalb towered 
 before them like a pillar of fire. But, alas ! what can 
 valor do against equal valor, aided by such fearful 
 odds ? While bending forward to animate his troops, 
 the veteran received eleven wounds. Fainting with 
 loss of blood, he fell to the ground, while Britons and 
 Americans were killed over him, as they furiously 
 strove to destroy, or to defend. In the midstof clash- 
 ing bayonets, his only survingaid. Monster de Buyson, 
 stretched his arms over the fallen hero, and called out, 
 'Save the Baron de Kalb I save the Baron de Kalb !' 
 The British officers then interposed, and prevented his 
 immediate destruction. 
 
 De Kalb died, as ho had lived, the unconqnered 
 friend of liberty. When an English officer condoled 
 with him his misfortune, he replied, 'I thank you, sir, 
 tor your generous sympathy ; but I die the death I 
 always prayed for; the death of a soldier, fighting for 
 the rights of man.' He survived but a few hours, and 
 was buried in the plains of Camden, near which his 
 last battle was fought. 
 
 Many years after, when the great Washington visit- 
 ed Camtien, he eagerly inquired for the grave of de 
 Kalb. It was shown to him. Gazing upon it thought- 
 fully, he exclaimed, with a deep sigh, ' So there lies 
 the brave de Kalb, the generous stranger, who came 
 from a distant land to fight our battles, and to water 
 with his blood, the tree of our liberty. Would to God 
 he had lived to share its fruits !' 
 
 STORY OF AN OLD BACHELOR. 
 
 There was a fine old general once, who having spent 
 most of his life in the field of Mars, knew very little 
 of the camp of Cupid. He was one of those rough 
 and honest spirits often met with in his gallant profes- 
 sion, innocent as an infant of almost everything save 
 high integrity and indomitable bravery. He was 
 nearly fifty years old, and his toils were over, when 
 master Dan Cupid brought him acquainted with a 
 widow Wadman, in whose eye he began to detect 
 something that made him uneasy. Here was the re- 
 sult of leisure. 
 
 During his service he had never seen anything 
 worthy of notice in a woman's eye. In fact, he would 
 scarcely have observed whether a woman had three 
 eyes in her head or only one, for no matter where his 
 own eyes were, his thoughts were ever amongst ' guns 
 and drums and wounds,' and love was a thing that 
 lived in his memory just as he remembered once 
 reading a visionary story book called the ' Arabian 
 Nights' Entertainments,' when he was a boy. 
 
 Well, the general had settled down into an amiable, 
 gentlemanly old fellow, living alone, with comfortable 
 wealth around him, and having little to do, save now 
 and then to entertain an old comrade in arms, which 
 companionship afforded opportunity for him to 'fight 
 his battles over again.' But, alas ! o'er this calm 
 evening of the old general's day a deal of perplexity 
 was doomed to fall, and he soon found himself in 
 troubled waters, the depth of which he could by no 
 means understand. He floundered about like a caged 
 rat under a pump — and such another melancholy fish 
 out of water never before swallowed the bait, hook 
 and all, of the angling god of love. The poor gene- 
 ral ! We must give him a name, or we can't tell the 
 story, and the best name for such a story is Uncle 
 Toby. Poor General Uncle Toliy debated abstracted- 
 ly about his now position, and never had siego or 
 campaign given him such perplexity before. 
 
 At length, however, the blunt honesty of his dis- 
 position rose uppermost among his conflicating plans, 
 and his course was chosen. At school he had once 
 studied ' Othello's defence,' to recite at an exhibition, 
 but made a great failure; and he how recollected that 
 there w&s something in this ' defence ' very much 
 
 iiko what he wanted lO say. He got the book imme- 
 diately, found the passage, clapped on his hat with a 
 determined air, and posted off to the window Wad- 
 man's, with Shakspearo under his arm. 
 
 ' Madam,' said General Unele Toby, opening his 
 book at the marked place, with the solemnity of a specal 
 pleader at the bar — 'Madam' — 
 
 ' Rude am I in fipeccli. 
 And little blessed with the set phrase of peace. 
 For since theRC arms of mine hud seven years' pfth, 
 Till now some nine raoons waptcd ttiey had used 
 Their dearest action in the tented fleld ; 
 And little of this great world can I speak, 
 More than pertains to feats of broil and battle; 
 And therefore' — 
 
 Here the general closed the book, wiped his fore- 
 bead, looked up at the ceiling, and said with a spasmo- 
 dic grasp, ■ I want to get married I' 
 
 The widow laughed for ten minutes, by Ihe watch, 
 before she could utter a syllable, and then she said, 
 with precious tears of humor rolling down her good- 
 natured cheeks — 
 
 ' And who is it that you wan't to marry, general V 
 
 ' Tou I ' said Uncle Toby, flourishing his word arm 
 in the air, and assuming a military attitude of defiance, 
 as if he expected an immediate assault. 
 
 ' Will you kill me if I marry you V said the widow, 
 with a merry twinkle in her eye. 
 
 ' No, madam !' replied he; but one thing I am bound 
 to tell you of, madam — I wears a wig I' 
 
 The widow started — remained silent a moment, and 
 then went into a longer, louder and merrier lau(;h than 
 she had indulged in before, at the end of which she 
 drew her seat nearer the general, gravely laid her hand 
 on his head, gently lifted his wig off, and placed it on 
 the table. 
 
 Uncle Toby had never known fear in hot battle, but 
 he now felt a most decided inclination to run away. 
 The widow laughed again as though she never would 
 stop, and the general was about to lay his hat upon his 
 denuded head and bolt, when the facetious lady laid her 
 hand upon his arm and detained him. She then de- 
 liberately raised her other hand to her own head, with 
 a sort of military precision; executed a rapid manoeu- 
 vre with her five fingers, pulled oft' her whole head 
 of fine glossy hair, and placing it upon the table by 
 the side of the general's, remained seated with ludi- 
 crous gravity in front of her accepted lover — quite 
 bald! 
 
 As may be expected. Uncle Toby laughed now 
 along with the widow, and they soon grew so merry 
 over the affair, that the maid-servant peeped through 
 the key-hole at the noise, and saw the old couple dan- 
 cing a jig and bobbing their bald pates at each other 
 like a pair of Chinese Mandarins. So the two shortly 
 'laid their heads together upon the pillow of matrimony.' 
 
 The styli of Dress best Suited to the Female 
 Foum. — By the use of a mathematical rule or sys- 
 tem, and with the use of a tape-measure, a lady may 
 learn to make a much more natural fit that can be 
 obtained by first fitting the linens to the body, and 
 then cutting the outside by them. Much art and 
 taste is also required to correctly distribute the 
 wadding, and a delicate figure, as well as one with 
 a waitt naturally large, requires to be built out with 
 wadding about the shoulders, and not seek to ren- 
 der the necessary contrast between the shoulders 
 and the waist, that is observable in a ' taper waist,' 
 by lacing the waist too tightly. French ladies never 
 have the dispepsia; they generally enjoy good 
 health and a fine flow of animal spirits ; their fig- 
 ures are regarded as models for milliners, and yet 
 they are not so small in the waist as are the ladiei 
 of Vienna, London, or New York. The beauty of 
 a feminine form does not consist in a small waist, 
 as the French and all people of taste fully compre 
 hcnd. A waist unnaturally small is devoid of a - 
 traction to a gentleman. A beautifully formed, 
 perfectly developed figure, with the glow of health, 
 and the wit that sparkles from innocent mirth, are 
 much more captivating than are beauties sulfeiing 
 from the exctutiatiug arts of tight lacing. 
 
312 
 
 IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 to bush, from hedge to I «"<• down to posterity tlie most appalling deaerip 
 hed"e is the wren pursued, I tions of human Buffi-ring of women and men whip- 
 ped naked through the streets with wanton tor- 
 tures, citizens fleeing from their dearest friends, as 
 from beasts of prey, for fear of being devoured 
 ambitious sporta- 1 amidst general starvation ; women feeding on their 
 The stranger is ut- own ehildren, and infants sucking at the breasts of 
 
 until bagged, with as much 
 pride and pleasure as the 
 cock of the woods by the 
 most 
 man. 
 
 terly at loss to conceive 
 the cause of this 'hubbub,' 
 or the motive for so much 
 energy in pursuit of ' such 
 small game.' On the an- 
 niversary of St. •Stephen 
 (the '20th of December) 
 the enigma is explained. 
 Attached to a huge holly- 
 bush, elevated on a pole, 
 the bodies of several little 
 wrens are borne about. 
 This bush is an object of 
 admiration in proportion 
 to the number of depend 
 ent birds, and is carried 
 through the streets in pro- 
 cession by a troop of boys, 
 among whom may be 
 usually found ' children of 
 a larger growth,' shouting 
 and roaring as they pro- 
 ceed along, and every now 
 and then stopping before 
 some popular house, sing- 
 ing 'the wren boys' song. 
 THE WREN. I To the words we have listened a score of times. 
 
 The nest of the Wren is curiously constructed of The following specimen will probably satisfy our 
 moss, lined with feather.^, its shape being aln-^osl 
 
 their deceased mothers ; fire and sword seemed to 
 contend for pre-eminence in the work of havoc and 
 destruction ; the work of war and blood was per- 
 petual ; human heads piled in pyramids, and the 
 streets of cities and towns rendered impassible by 
 heaps of slain, the country in many plaecs exhibit- 
 ing few signs of being inhabited, save in the bones 
 of murdered bodies, and the smouldering ruins of 
 villages and temples j all law and religion trodden 
 under foot, bonds of private friendship as well as of 
 society broken, and every individual, as if amidst a 
 forest of wild beasts, could rely upon nothing but 
 the strength of his own arm, or the deep villany of 
 his nature. This, then, was the time for avaricious 
 England. 
 
 TJiE NEST ov nil': ^vuK^^ 
 
 oval, with one small entrance only. It is most fie- 
 quenily made in some comer of an out-house, stack 
 of wood, or hole in the wall, near the dwellings of 
 men ; but when the wren builds in the woods, it is 
 commonly in a bush near the ground, or on the 
 stump of a tree, but it is sometimes made on the 
 ground. It is very remarkable that the materials of 
 the nest are generally adapted to the place where it 
 is formed; if against a hay-rick, its exterior is com- 
 posed of hay ; if against the side of a tree clad with 
 white lichens, it is covered with the same sub- 
 stance ; and again, if it is built against a tree cov- 
 ered with green moss, or in a bank, its e.xterior al- 
 ways corresponds in appearance. The wrert does 
 not, as is usual with most birds, begin the bottom 
 ofits nest first; when it is made against a tree, it 
 begins by tracing the outline on the bark, and thus 
 fastens it with equal strength to all parts. 
 
 The peculiarities of the manners of the wren have 
 often been remarked. Audubon has described it in 
 terms which appear to be universally applicable to 
 all the varieties of the species. ' Its tail,' he says, 
 • is almost constantly erect ; and before it starts to 
 make the least flight, it uses a quick motion, which 
 brings its body almost in contact with the object on 
 which it stands. The quickness of the motions of 
 the little bird is fully equal to that of a mouse ; it 
 appears, and is out of sight in a moment ; peeps in- 
 to a crevice, passes rapidly through it, and shows 
 itself at a difi'crcnt place the next instant. These 
 wrens often sing from the roof of an abandoned flat- 
 boai. When the song is finished, they creep ftom 
 
 readers as to the merit ot the composition : 
 
 The wran, tlie wran, the king of all birds, 
 St. Stephen's day was cot in the furze; 
 Although he is little, his family's jirate — 
 Fut yerliand in ver pocket and give us a trate. 
 Sing holly, sing ivy— sing ivy, sing holly, 
 A dropjust to drink it would drown melancholy. 
 And if you dhraw it ov the best, 
 I hone in heaven yer sowl will rest; 
 But if you dliraw it ov the small, 
 It won't agree with the wrau hoys at all. 
 
 INDIA PRIOR TO THE BRITISH OCCUPATION. 
 
 Timour was justly denominated the ' firebrand of 
 the universe ' — the greatest wholesale butcher that 
 humanity ever heard of; he plundered and massa- 
 cred without distinction of religion or sex, and his 
 track was marked by blood 
 
 desolation, famine and • — 
 
 pestilence. Aurungzebe 
 was little better towards 
 the Hindoos; Tippoo Saib 
 circumcized all the Brah- 
 mins he could get hold of, 
 and it is said si.xty thous- 
 and Christians were sub- 
 jected by him to the same 
 operation. After Abdal- 
 lah captured Delhi, in 
 17G1, he ordered a general 
 massacre, which lasted 
 seven days ; his guards 
 were not even then glut- 
 ted with slaughter, but 
 the stench of dead bodies 
 drove them out of the 
 city ; a great part of the 
 
 YEDDO, IN JAPAN. 
 
 Mr. Consul Harris, in a private letter to an ofBcerof 
 the navy who was in ihe Japan expedition, gives the 
 following description of the city of Yeddo : — 
 
 ' I have visited the city of Yeddo twice, and have 
 had an audience of the Emperor. I passed nearly six 
 months in Yeddo during ray two visits, and succeeded 
 at last in making a commercial treaty that fully opens 
 Japan to our enterprising citizens and brings Japan 
 fairly into the great family of nations. 
 
 ' Yeddo is a large city of two-story wooden buildings . 
 The streets are generally wide and well sewered, but 
 are not paved. It is probable that the population is 
 between 1,500,000 and 2,000,000. There is neither 
 beauty nor splendor to be found there. The exterior 
 of the houses is the same as those you saw at Simonda 
 and Kanagawa, and the interiors are quite as destitute 
 of farniture or ornament. Even the palace of the 
 Emperor is built of unpainted wood, and is equally 
 bare of furniture. The golden columns and roofs 
 spoken of by old writers have vanished, if they ever 
 existed, and I am assured by the Japanese that their 
 buildings and mode of living are precisely the same 
 that have been for the last five hundred years.' 
 
 buildings were reduced to 
 one board to another, thrust themselves through an! ^j^^^_ ^^^ thousands who 
 auger-hole, entering the boat's side at one place, ^^^^p^j ^^^ ^^^.^^^ suffered 
 and peeping out at another.' 1 ^ lingering death by fa- 
 
 For some weeks preceding Christmas, crowds of ^j^^^ sitting upon the 
 Tillage boys may be seen peering into the hedges, ^;„g ^f (heir smoking 
 in search of the ' tiny wren ;' and when one is dis- j tenements. Thus a city ex- 
 covered, the whole assemble and give eager chase j tending thirty-four miles 
 until they have killed the bird. In the hunt the i ;„ length, and containing 
 utmost excitement prevails ; shooting, schrceching, j j^q millions of inhabi- 
 and rushing ; all sorts of missiles are flung at the tants, became almost a 
 puny mark ; and, not unfrequently, they light upon heap of ruins. The histo- 
 theheadof someless innocent being. From bush ' nans of the day have hand 
 
 THE WREN OX ST. SPEPHE-VS DAY. 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 313 
 
 IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 THOMAS O NEILL , 
 
 rUnLISHEIl AND PUOPEIETOll. 
 
 BOSTON, SATURDAY, DECKMBICU 25, 1858. 
 
 THE PATERNAL GOVERNMENT OF ENGLAND. 
 
 Wo last week published an article from the Dundalk 
 Democrat — of vvliirh we highly approved — showing the 
 mistake which that truly groat mm, the Count de 
 Montalemhcrt, made when ho spoke in praise of the 
 English government, in drawing a comparison between 
 the systems adopted under the Emperor Napoleon and 
 Queen Victoria. The man who could for a moment 
 be so misled into praise of England, at the expense of 
 France, must indeed have forgotten himself. To thank 
 the government of England for the liberty ot the press is 
 sheer nonsense. This same liberty-loving government 
 of England, it will be remembered, not many years 
 ago illegally destroyed the property of Charles Gaven 
 Dufty, John Mitchel, and others, and in so arbitary 
 and tyrannical a manner that were it in any other 
 country than Ireland it must have caused a revolution 
 What, call you this liberty, Monsieur Montalembert ' 
 To deprive the French people of bread or any oiher 
 necessary of life would immediately came a revolution, 
 and no monarch would attempt it, if sane. Yet the 
 paternal government of England has not only de- 
 prived the Irish nation of -bread, but wilfully designed 
 it for the e.xpress purpose of extermination, and by 
 thus depriving them by taxes of even the produce of 
 their own soil — God's rich bounty — designedly starved 
 2,000,000 of one of the noblest races that ever stalked 
 on the face of God's foot-stool. 
 
 The spy system is, or has been, very cunningly car- 
 ried on in France ; but have they ever beaten the Eng- 
 lish in softening the seals of letters and reading private 
 correspondence, and then resealing and delivering 
 them as though entirely ignorant of their contents 1 
 When did France — its monarchs, we mean — leceive 
 gifts of gold to bribe them to do justice to the people ; 
 pocket the money, and then deliver their homes over 
 to the spoiler 1 and thus drive them forth as outcasts 
 from an ancient paternity. 
 
 The Count de Montalembert must certainly have 
 been seized with a fit of forgetfulness, for we cannot for 
 a moment doubt that such a profound thinker must 
 have known that England is a decided cheat and hum- 
 bug. Does he not know that England has chained 
 Ireland to poverty, as it were, by suppressing her every 
 interest by enactments destroying her commerce and 
 mannfactures, depriving the people of their first right 
 and interest in the soil and their improvements there- 
 on, making them aliens on their own hearth-stones, and 
 giving to foreign and absentee landlords more than the 
 power of the Cuban slave driver. 
 
 Our attention has again been drawn to this subject 
 by an article in the Dublin Catholic Telegraph of the 
 27th ult., commencing thus : — 
 
 Manofactured MnRDERS. — That portion of the 
 press which is inveterately hostile to the Irish people 
 on both sides of the Channel has met* with a terrihle 
 disappointment. Already every pen was in action, 
 every period rounded, and every hacknied invective on 
 the point of being committed to the d (the prin- 
 ter's, of course), when lo ! the welcome theme turned 
 out to be like so many before it — a pure myth — an 
 Orange fabrication ; in plain terms, a lie. 
 
 Mr. Gason, a gentleman wlio was a few days ago 
 reported to have been shot at, and to have escaped the 
 assassin's deadly aim by something very closely a-kin 
 to a miracle — this veritable Mr. Gason now informs 
 the public that no attempt whatever has been made on 
 his hfe, and no injury of any kmd inllicted on his per- 
 »,in. Wonders will never cease! All the world hears 
 that a certain gentleman has been within a hair's 
 breadth of being shot dead, and nearly all the world 
 believes it, when suddenly the reputed victim himself 
 declares he knew nothing about the matter till he read 
 it in black and white in half a dozen Orange journals, 
 whence it flies as swiftly as the electric wires can carry 
 it to the columns of their sympathisers in England 
 Now, these fabricated murders would necessarily be 
 ineoniprehensilile to such as are strangers to the past 
 history of Ireland ; but those who are actjuainted with 
 it see in them a mere revival of the treacherous policy 
 
 which it was hoped had been almost whollv abandon- 
 ed. One actual murder and an unsiiccessrul attempt 
 at a second would not have been suftieient to justify 
 the landlords in calling upon the executive to adopt 
 coercive and rigorous measures towards the peasantry. 
 Hence one or two other murders must needs be invent- 
 ed to furnish a bcttci pretext for harsh and rigorous 
 measures against them. To the same conspiracy 
 against the people may, in a great measure, be as- 
 cribed the exaggerated accounts of the revival of secret 
 societies so industriously circulated, and so artistically 
 amplified by British journalists. 
 
 « * * * * * 
 
 But the strangest part of the story is, that they are 
 conlirmed in these exaggerated notices by the one- 
 sided sources of information which they receive from 
 native journalists of the anti-Catholic class. Only a 
 few days 'igo, for instance, it was stated in one of these 
 faithful chronicles that a Mr. Going was ' gone to that 
 bourne from whence no traveller returns,' and that he 
 had been sped thither by the hand of a Ribbonraan or 
 desparado of some kind or other. But scarcely was 
 the horrible tale ventilated when it was found that Mr. 
 Going, to the very great delight of himself and friends, 
 was as well as man could be, and that the news of his 
 having been barbarously assassinated came upon him 
 altogether by surprise. And no wonder, since no one 
 had attempted to injure a hair of his head, which was 
 still as safi3 on his shoulders as ever. 
 
 England's business, cf necessity, has been to belie 
 and misrepresent Ireland. Emmett, the acknowl- 
 edged martyr of universal freedom, labored not to 
 save his life, but his reputation, which, of necessity, 
 England must traduce and slander to justify herself 
 in crime. 
 
 We cannot believe the new humbug of secret so- 
 cieties anything but an English invention, got up 
 for the e.xpress purpose of preventing the 69th Regi- 
 ment New York Volunteers, under Colonel Ryan 
 from visiting the old land and home of their fore- 
 fathers, knowing they would be likely to create a 
 new national feeling. If the story of secret societies 
 should prove true, it is nothing but the evidence of 
 Ireland being still true to liberty. The oppressed 
 will meet, though the gallows was over their heads, 
 and the English gallows has ever found Irish food to 
 satiate its glutton demands. Ireland is still true to 
 liberty, and England knows it. 
 
 England is about to pass some new penal law, 
 and she is now making the necessary preliminary 
 arrangements. By and by she will come into the 'great 
 General Court ' with a string of crimes in Ireland, 
 showing the necessity of keeping a large standing 
 army there ; rewards will be offered; murders will 
 be created there. Who forgets Delehunt, who had 
 his palms rubbed with British gold till he slew a 
 boy in cold blood, that he might receive the bounty 
 held out by England for crime in Ireland ? But the 
 part which we most admire in the Telegraph's 
 article is the following : — 
 
 To keep alive ancient feuds, to persist in fanning 
 the flame of religious or rather irreligious discord, 
 and to keep class in continual hostility with class 
 would seem to be the peculiar province and favorite 
 occupation of some men in every community. This 
 is an age of progress. Improvement has proceeded 
 and kept pace with the onward march of time. But 
 no improvement, no progress, can bring permanent 
 welfare and true prosperity to a people unless petty 
 jealousies, sectarian rancour, and partizan feuds 
 give place to a firm determination on the part of all 
 classes and all creeds to labor together for the com- 
 mon and individual good. 
 
 We endorse the latter sentiment with all our 
 heart, and will ever give it our full co-operation. 
 We love liberty, a true legitimate freedom, the 
 exercise of every religious, moral and social right ; 
 but we sec no chance for Ireland till her people work 
 together, not as Limerick inviting Cunard to destroy 
 the prospects of Galway. 
 
 Christian and libertj-loving England is down 
 on secret societies now, at least those who meet 
 to curse her cruel government and landlord system, 
 lias she yet broken up the Orange lodges ? No I 
 but nurses them, keeping alive the animosities and 
 ill-felling created by her policy to devide the Irish 
 people. Does she not put arms into the hands of 
 the Orangemen, which leads to feuds of the bitterest 
 and often fatal consequences r Her government of 
 
 Ireland has been the greatest cruelty on earth. It 
 is only equalled by the follies which prevent Irish- 
 men from uniting on the subject of Nationality, 
 which prevents them from being a great and inde- 
 pendent nation. This we pronounce the greatest 
 cruelty. Who is guilty ? Let every man put his 
 hand on his heart and answer the question. 
 
 Since this article has been in type, we learn that 
 the Lord Lieutenant of Ireland has issued a pro- 
 clamation against Ribbonism and secret societies. 
 We wonder whether he has included the govern- 
 ment pet Orangeism ? 
 
 CHRISTMAS DAY. 
 
 It will be seen that our present issue is dated 
 December 25, the eighteen hundred and fifty- 
 eight anniversary of the birth of the Redeemer. 
 This is, in all Christendom, a great day, but no 
 where that we know of is it held in greater 
 esteem than in our own ' old land.' It is the great 
 religious festival of the year, as it is the great social 
 merry-making. Men who had neglected religious 
 duties during the past, in general renew their vows 
 for a more scrupulous observance of right and well- 
 doing. Like the New England Thanksgiving, the 
 scattered family meets around the festive board, and 
 rejoices that one day in the year they meet to 
 forget poverty and wrong to love and rejoice to- 
 gether. And why not ? God in his mercy sent the 
 Saviour, and he lived that we may not die; he died 
 that we may live eternally. Born and laid in the 
 manger, his mission was to the poor, and poor and 
 oppressed Ireland, since the day of its conversion to 
 his great truths, rejoices in Heaven's greatest bles- 
 sing. 
 
 SAFETY OF THE INDIAN EMPIRE. 
 
 By the arrival of the steamship Arabia, from Liver- 
 pool 4th inst., we have the news of the safe arrival of 
 the Indian Empire at Broadhaven, county Mayo. Her 
 fuel was exhausted, and she was obliged to consume 
 part of her cargo and woodwork. She was also short 
 of provisions. She was obliged to lay to for a week 
 when within a day's steaming of Galway, owingto se- 
 rious storms. 
 
 We trust no agent will hereafter promise to sub- 
 scribes any more pictures. We have already an- 
 nounced that they are all gone. They w ere one of 
 the greatest evils this paper has had to contend 
 with. We understand they were sold by some 
 agents for ten cents a piece, instead of delivering 
 them to the subscribers. Being so near the end of 
 the volume alone prevents us from commencing the 
 paper anew, and washing out the promises, policy 
 and system of management of our predecessors. 
 We have evidence that the people want such a 
 paper, and, without pictures or promises, we hope 
 to make the Misscellany worthy their support. 
 
 Our Aoents. — We are pleased to be able to add 
 the names of John Flood, of Dover, N. H., and 
 James Quinlan, of Cleveland, Ohio, to our list of 
 agents. In the hands of these gentlemen, we feel 
 confident the Misscellany must succed. 
 
 John Warren, our travelling agent, is now mak- 
 ing a tour through the shoe manufacturing districts 
 of this State, and we trust all those who have pre- 
 viously subscribed, will be able to add their friends 
 to his list, and replenish our funds. 
 
 Through moving from our old to our present quarters, 
 16 Franklin street, we fear some of our subscribers may 
 have been neglected. We trust any of those who have 
 not received the Miscellany regularly will let us know. 
 
 Thomas D'Arcy McGee lectures in the Tremont 
 Temple on Thursday evening. Subject — ' What the 
 Irish have done, what they have not done, and what 
 they are capable of doing, in the world of intellect.' 
 
314 
 
 miSH MISCELLANY. 
 
 IWriltrn for tlio Irish Miscellany.] 
 I SWEAR TO THEE. 
 
 BV WILLIAU H. DONOHO. 
 
 CDedicated to Thercso of Oranniore.) 
 
 1 swear to thee, by all my hope^, I prize tlieet 
 I have nu hope lu lite but in thy love; 
 
 1 would not for my i>ouI that thou tle>pise me, 
 Or thiuk my faith could ever from thee rove. 
 
 Ye», I have vowed to other maids before thee, 
 Aud worahippi'd since at other >hri»es than thine; 
 
 But oh, believe my truth, now, I implore thee, 
 ^ever 1 loved but when I coiled thee mine! 
 
 What thrall— what subtle web Is thisenfoldBrac? 
 
 Ilow laid my fate such cunning snares to bind? 
 Aud now remorseless tyrants, but lirm, withholds me 
 
 From all the blisjt can ever soothe :liis mind! 
 
 It is my Destiny— and I must lear it! 
 
 It Is thy Fute— thou y ield to its control ! 
 Grief was not >;rief to me, when thuu did'st share it. 
 
 But now the iron sinks iuto my soul. 
 
 Think; when at all you dare to thiuk about me; 
 
 'I hat sore 1 labor life's slow journey on — 
 Dead to its charms, quick to its toils without thee — 
 Watching the adverse path thy steps have gone. 
 Washington City, Kov. 20, 1S5S. 
 
 Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1S5S, by 
 Thomaa O'Keill, in the District Court of Massachusetts. 
 
 REMINISCENCES IN THE 
 
 IF k 
 
 — IN THE — 
 
 ENGLISH AND AMERICAN SER\aCES. 
 BY THOMAS O'XEILL. 
 
 BBDICiTBD TO GENERAL JAMES SHIELDS. 
 
 AN IRISH PRIEST'S INFLUENCE. 
 
 ' In for another court martial,' said joll)' Charloy 
 Uale, one tine afternoon, to his troop-mates, as a 
 party of eight of us were out on ' a time*^ in the 
 town of sweet Ologheen, where it is said, in the old 
 cong, ' Sergeant Snap met Paddy Carey.' 
 
 ' AVhat's wrong now r' said one. 
 
 'Only lost my sword-blade, and ten rounds of 
 ball catridge," was the reply. 
 
 And so it really proved, for the country people in 
 Ireland will do anything to possess themselves of 
 arms. They took a strange liking to Charley, and 
 stole his sword and ammunition. I considered it 
 rather strange that they should steal arms from 
 the soldiers. It was the first instance of the kind 
 that had come to my own knowledge. Having 
 searched everywhere in vain, and threatened the 
 landlord (being in quarter.*) to no purpose, I was 
 reluctantly compelled, being in charge of the party, 
 to report the circumstance to head-quarters. 
 
 Poor Charley was ordered in and court martialed, 
 and though there were mitigating circumstances in 
 the case, yet the ' articles of war ' were against 
 him, and he was sentenced to thirty days solitary 
 confinement. I felt very bad about the affair, and 
 60 resolved to do my utmost for poor Charley. Our 
 arms, having been together, it might just as 
 well have been mine, or any of the other troopers, 
 that had been taken. 1 consequently exerted my- 
 self, strenuousl)-, to recover the stolen property.and 
 the landlord aided me all in his power, but.as above 
 stated, in vain. 
 
 At length an idea occurred to me, and 1 resolved 
 to act upon it forthwith ; I inquired of the landlord 
 if he knew the priest. Why of course he did, and 
 why not ? Jie not only knew him, but was on inti- 
 mate terms with his reverence. I requested to be 
 introduced to him the next time he came that way. 
 He happened to do so in a day or two after, and my 
 request was complied with. 
 
 In the course of conversation with his reverence, 
 
 I opened the whole case to him, and repre.-sented 
 how much 1 felt for the position of my troop-mate. 
 I informed him that Charley was a mo.st harmless 
 fellow ; that he had been three or four times pre- 
 viously tried by court martial for offences that could 
 hardly be considired crimes. I also c.\i)lained to 
 him the awkwardness and delicacy of my position ; 
 the regiment was almost exclusively an Englit-h one, 
 and I almost the only Irishman in it. 1 likewise 
 told him the sword-blade would convict any person 
 in whose possession it might hereafter be found, 
 being a military weapon, with the name engraved 
 thereon, which would surely, sooner or later, lead to 
 the detection and consequent punishment of the 
 thief. The amunition, likewise, was useless for any 
 other weapon than our carabines, for which, alone, 
 it was suited. 
 
 The clergyman listened attentively to my state- 
 ment, and expressed great regret for the punished 
 trooper, but seemed to think that whoever stole the 
 property was not very likely to come to him for 
 advice. However, he added, that he would try what 
 could be done. He proved as good as his word, 
 for the sword-blade was quickly restored, but the 
 amunition was never recovered, 
 
 I asked the priest to write to the commanding of- 
 ficer in relation to the affair, which he did, sending 
 the letter and sword-blade by the hands of the land- 
 lord. The latter informed the colonel that he would 
 not have had it happen for any consideration, that 
 a soldier should be suffering imprisonment on ac- 
 count of anything stolen from his house. He added 
 that he felt it as a disgrace, and, in his simplicity, 
 offered any sum of money for the rekase of the 
 trooptr. This, thoujih ludicrous, had some eflect, or, 
 at least, united with the priest's letter, did the business, 
 for Charley was released after seven days' solitary con- 
 finement, and sent under my charge again. 
 
 As a matter of course, Charley was introduced to his 
 good friend, the worthy priest, who, from what he had 
 heard, took a great interest in him, and had now be- 
 come a regular visitor of ours. Charley thanked him 
 warmly for his kindness, telling him that, save one, all 
 the scrapes he had got into were no more criminal, 
 upon his part, than the sword-blade affair. Yet, let 
 tiim do what he would, everything seemed to turn 
 wrong and uppermost with him. In fact, he was 
 the luckiest m.iu in the corps for getting into trouble. 
 
 The priest manifested a desire to hear the circum- 
 stances of thatscrape. to which alone he pleaded guilty. 
 Hero follows the narrative, to the trath of which I can 
 attest. 
 
 In our troop there happened to be a corporal who 
 had not the respect of a single man in the regiment. 
 He would report the most trifling offence, and was 
 well known to have got more men into trouble than all 
 the other non-commissioned officers put together. 
 Having done some act, which particularly annoyed and 
 hurt the feelings of the men, they resolved, if possible, 
 to be even with him, and so combined together to eft'eet 
 his downfall. Many plans were laid. His principal 
 weak point was known in the fact that his eorporalship 
 would imbibe to excess, if the drink were only paid for 
 by any one but himselt. He would indulge most freely 
 at the cost of any pocket save his own. He was miser- 
 ly and penurious to a degree scarcely permitting him- 
 self the simplest indulgence. 
 
 On the anniversary of any great battle day, it is cus- 
 tomary for the captains of each troop to give the men 
 leave of absence until twelve o'clock, furnishing them 
 each with a day's pay to enable them to enjoy them- 
 selves. On such occasions, it was not uncommon to 
 see the worthy corporal drinking in the canteen, but 
 most assuredly in no one's company but his own. He 
 would share with no man ; but jovi.il and pleasant 
 was he if invited to pariake with others, provided it 
 was at their expense. Now, it being decided that this 
 was the vulnerahle point in the man, it was resolved 
 to await bis turn for duty, and on the evening previous 
 to start some one un the spree with him, each of us to 
 contribute oiu: quarter towardii defraying the expense 
 of the frolic. 
 
 Charley happened to be ordered for guard the same 
 evening' with the corporal, and no better selection could 
 be made to carry out the intentions of the plotters. 
 The forenoon of that duy he pretended to have re- 
 ceived some money from his friends at homo, and ex- 
 pressed a desire to share with his roommates, a thing 
 very usual in the army. A sulTiciency of good things 
 were provided in the room, during the forenoon, to set 
 the corporal's teeth on edge. The feast was postponed 
 until evening, when a company of twelve or fourteen 
 assembled to have a good time. 
 
 The fun and hilarity were kept up for some time, 
 when, one by one, the company slipped away, leaving 
 Charley and the corporal finally started. Bed lime 
 came, and a pretty fair share of liquor was carried to 
 their rooms, to be duly disposed of, during the night.by 
 the now happy pair. We talked until near morn- 
 ing, for the plan was to make the co'poral keep up 
 the steam next day, and thus tender him unfit to 
 mount guard, for which he would certainly be court 
 martialed, and reduced to the ranks. 
 
 The scheme worked bravely, for the next morn- 
 ing the corporal was at the canteen ere the trumpet 
 sounded the reveille. Charley, acting well up to 
 his instructions, plied him well with liquor, while 
 his room-mates got his appointments ready for 
 guard duty in the afternoon. They pretended, also, 
 to be getting the corporal's troops in order, while 
 he continued all the forenoon at the canteen. 
 
 Charley declared that, sooner than miss getting 
 the corporal court martialed, he would incur 
 the risk of a trial himself. At dinner time it was 
 quite apparent that neither of them were fit to 
 parade for mounting guard in a regiment which had 
 acquired, from the [strictness of her discipline, the 
 cognomen of ' the Buffstioks and Burnishers,' 
 They kept on until three o'clock, when we were de- 
 termined to make them dress. Charley had, by this 
 time, lost all control over himself, and we feared 
 would not 'pass muster;' but, by copious applica- 
 tions of cold water, soda drinks, and an odd nudge 
 in reference to the corporal, we partially succeeded 
 in getting him, as we hoped, right. The latter in- 
 dividual had now given up even the intention of 
 dressing, declaring that he would not mount that 
 guard. 
 
 The trumpet sounded, and we marched to the 
 parade ground, watching Charley with mingled hope 
 and fear, but confidant in the assurance that the 
 corporal, at all events, was fairly caught. But our 
 confidence speedily vanished when we ^aw another 
 corporal take the place of our supposed dupe. Use- 
 less inquiries were made as to who ordered the 
 change. AVe were regularly dead sold, as we soon 
 found out. 
 
 The carabine exercise was being performed by the 
 guard, and ])Oor Charley found himself uttcrlj' un- 
 able to keep time. AVe saw the guard ' advance 
 arms,' 'stand at ease,' when all was up. Charley 
 fell back ; the regimental sergeant major sent for a 
 file of the old guard, and ordered them to confine 
 private Hale. Our well-dosed dupe gave a hearty 
 laugh; our suspicions were now fully confirmed ; 
 we were cheaply, badly sold. A\'e, however, kept 
 our secret; but, to add to our mortification and 
 chagrin, the corporal coolly set about preparing for' 
 the hospital, where he went that afternoon. It ap- 
 peared that, unknown to us, he had taken the pre- 
 caution, early in the morning, to report himself sick, 
 fearing that it would turn out a bad case with him 
 before night. He told the doctor that during the 
 previous night he had been affected with something 
 like an attack of cholera, and had been advised to 
 take some brandy, which he really thought bad done 
 him some good ; the doctor thought that he had 
 better have a day or two's rest, and so ordered him 
 to the hospital. 
 
 Now, the doctor never visits the hospital more 
 than once a day, except in extreme eases. His visit 
 takeB place at noon, and men, who report them- 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 315 
 
 selves sick, see him at that time, and if he considers | were made of the conduct of the officers of cruisers 
 it necessary for them to go on the sick report they on the coast of Cuba, is well calculated to provoke 
 
 return to their rooms until the evening of the day, 
 when they pack up their things and go to the 
 hospital. 
 
 The next day the doctor found our friend rather 
 low and weak, but not in need of any medicine, than 
 rest and quiet ; but the day after that he was order- 
 ed to duty. Nothing suited him better, for now he 
 bad the laugh all to himself, poor Charley having 
 been ordered to prepare for court martial. 
 
 The old stager, having so cleverly outwitted us, 
 could not contain himself for joy. He had slipped 
 the trap that had been laid for him, and he exulted 
 his full in our defeat. He now drank to his own 
 cleverness, and defied the whole troop to catch him 
 napping. 
 
 In the stable to which he belonged was a very 
 vicous grey mare, named Molly Gray. This mare 
 was so very unmanageable that, whenever her own 
 rider happened to be absent, she had to be neglect- 
 ed, so far as cleaning or leading her to water was 
 concerned, and all that dare be done for her was to 
 fill her hay-rack, and throw her oats into the man- 
 ger. 
 
 The corporal went to the stables in the evening, 
 evidently entertaining a very high opinion of him- 
 self. He strutted and swaggered about like a per- 
 son of great consequence. Molly Grey did not seem 
 to relish his noise and bluster, and, whenever he 
 went near her, she manifested her displeasure in her 
 own peculiar manner. At one time, she screeched 
 as he passed her ; he struck her with his open hand. 
 We called to him to be cautious, but he only laugh- 
 ed at us. We called to him again, but with no 
 avail. We begged, and besought him to keep away 
 from her, but all to no purpose. He persisted, say- 
 ing that he was not afaid of her. She kicked ; but 
 he was too close to get hurt. Her first kick only 
 threw him out from her ; but kicking immediately 
 again — sad to relate — she struck him with the toe of 
 her shoe, directly between the eyebrows, lifting the 
 skull completely off from the nose and face. He 
 fell, and never spoke again. After a few hours of 
 insensibility, he left the world to us and Molly 
 Gray. 
 
 It seemed as though the animal was somewhat 
 sensible of the mischief which she had done, for 
 immediately, upon the corporal's falling, she shrank 
 up to the manger, trembling, as if to hide herself, 
 until every hair on her body was wet. This being 
 the second victim of this vicious animal, she was 
 ordered to be sold. 
 
 Our friend Charley was duly tried, and sent to 
 the military provost, to break stones for three 
 months. We all mourned the terrible death of the 
 unfortunate corporal ; but Charley often declared 
 that he ought to be shot, as he believed himself to 
 hav. been the cause of the dreadful end of Corporal 
 Wheelwright. 
 
 not only the liveliest indignation at the insult, but 
 a still more bitter feeling in consequence of the bad 
 faith involved in a continuance in such affronts af- 
 ter the promise of their abandonment. The perfidy 
 of Great Britain, in this act, is as marked as her in- 
 solence and injustice. 
 
 It seems almost an irresistable inference that war 
 has been resolved on against this country by France 
 and England, and that those countries are only 
 waiting for a suitable moment to let slip the hounds 
 at our throats, or a favorable prete.\t for their justi- 
 fication. It was no doubt thought that Walker and 
 Us deluded followers might furnish some such ex- 
 cuse for interference on the part of England and 
 France with the affairs of Central America, and 
 there is every reason to suspect that this same out- 
 law has been aided or cajoled by agents of these 
 governments to persevere in his wanton and mis- 
 chievous attempts to embroil affairs in Nicaragua. 
 
 William Walker is a nuisance, we admit frankly, 
 with his reckless gang of fillibusters; but the United 
 States have, before this, under order of the Presi- 
 dent, arrested his career, and the American navy 
 have officers, like Capt. Paulding, who would pre 
 
 culable benefit to the world, and especially to Great 
 Britain, while it would secure at once the entire 
 cessation of that trade which, unfortunately, is con- 
 ducted at so great a cost of human life and suffering 
 as to be revolting to public sentiment. 
 
 Taking these outrages, however, in connection 
 with the rumors of an Anglo-Gallic protectorate, 
 and the concentration of vessels of war of those two 
 flags in' the waters of the gulf, this policy of in'er- 
 vention becomes highly probable, and it may be ap- 
 prehended that the highway of American commerce 
 to California is to be obstructed by the cruisers and 
 oiiicials of these two interloping European powers. 
 America does not interfere with the affairs of the 
 European continent, and she has a right to demand 
 that they do not busy themselves with the internal 
 affairs of this continent, by colonization or conquest. 
 To suffer this protectorate would not only be yield- 
 ing our independence and honor, but sacrificing the 
 material interests of our commerce and the progress 
 of our Pacific empire. 
 
 We believe that the French despot and the Eng- 
 lish aristocracy are in league against our country, 
 and that nothing but the influence of the people of 
 Great Britain and Ireland, united to us by the ties 
 of commerce and kindred, has prevented it from 
 
 vent this man from doing the people of Central breaking out at any time since the treaty of Paris. 
 
 America any harm ; so that there is no necessity for | They demanded that there should be no war on ac- 
 count of the insults offered to the American flag on 
 the coast of Cuba. They compelled the government 
 to disavow the acts of the commanders of the Styx 
 and Buzzard, and they will, if the opportunity is 
 given, cause the insults of the captain of the Leop- 
 ard to be repudiated. It is, however, unpleasant 
 to be thus situated, and it will become necessary to 
 become foreffrmed, as we are forewarned, by these 
 continued attacks on our neutrality and honor. 
 
 Fortunately we possess resources that are inex- 
 haustible, and the ingenuity of our people will turn 
 them to such account thateven the heroes of Sevas- 
 topol will recoil in defeat and disgrace from any in- 
 vasion of our soil. Let, then, the war come, if such 
 is our destiny, and we will meet it patriotically, 
 trusting, as did our fathers, in the just support of 
 Heaven, and convinced that this event will unite 
 every section in firm bonds of lasting amity against 
 the for, not merely of these United States but of 
 republican institutions and the rights of man. — 
 [New York News. 
 
 IMPENDING WAR. 
 
 The news brought by the Washington from Nic- 
 aragua may well induce the apprehension that not 
 only the most valuable interests of the United 
 States are in imminent danger, but that even 
 our honor as a nation is involved in the attitude as- 
 sumed by the British naval officials on the Central 
 America station. The steamer Washington, on 
 reaching the shore of Nicaragua, and in the neutral 
 harbor of San Juan, was subjected to the deliberate 
 insult of a visit and search, and this in the most 
 wanton manner, their being in the immediate vi- 
 cinity American vessels of war, to whose oflicersan 
 appeal might have been made in case there was any 
 reason to suspect the Washington or her passengers 
 of being engaged in an unlawful enterprise. 
 
 This conduct, taken in connection with the recent 
 disclaimer on the part of England of her pretended 
 right of Tisitation and search, when complainte 
 
 French or English fleets and armies to go out to 
 capture this Governor of Nicaragua and his motley 
 crew. It certainly appears as if there was a concert 
 between Walker and Monsieur Belly, and the 
 former may have received money, in order that the 
 scheme of the Belly Protectorate might be carried 
 out according to the programme laid down by Sig- 
 nora Mora and Martinez. 
 
 ^t all events. Congress cannot now hesitate as to 
 the proper course to be pursued with respect to that 
 infamous fraud and humbug, the Clayton-Bulvver 
 treaty. The course of her Britanic Majesty's ship 
 Leopard towards the Washington shows how much 
 the neutrality of the Nicaragua route is regarded, 
 and even the name of the vessel offering the offense 
 seems to carry with it an additional insult, as if the 
 provocations of the war of 1812 were to be resumed, 
 and another v.'as fastened on this country on the 
 same issue. 
 
 The President, in his message, has informed Con- 
 gress and the people of the country that negotia- 
 tions were pending to settle the discussions with 
 reference to Central America, ' in accordance with 
 the general tenor of the interpretation placed upon 
 the Clayton Bulwer treaty by the United States, 
 with certain modifications.' He likewise tells us 
 that the British government have recognized those 
 principles of international law ' which secure the 
 vessels of the United States upon the high seas from 
 visitation or search in time of peace, under any cir- 
 cumstances whatever.' Either, then, the comman- 
 der of the Leopard acted in the most flagrant viola- 
 tion of the orders of his government, or England has 
 been guilty of profound dissimulation and treach- 
 ery, and she and the French usurper have a secret 
 hostile understanding to interfere with the peaceful 
 routes of American commerce across the Isthmus 
 and Central America, and to establish a Cuban, 
 Mexican and Central American protectorate. 
 
 The policy of the United States has been peaceful, 
 ever standing in strong contrast to the land-robbing 
 schemes of conquest that England and France are 
 at this moment prosecutmg on the most gigantic 
 scale in the East ; one gaining a foothold in China, 
 and the other aiming at the annexation of the whole 
 of the vast regions of Assam and Cochin China. 
 By far the greatest portion of the additions to the 
 territories of the United States has been made by 
 purchase, and at the present moment our President 
 offers to purchase Cuba from Spain. Nor need this 
 alarm either of the maratime powers of western 
 Europe ; the annexation of Cuba would be of incal- 
 
 CORRESPONDENCE. 
 
 Editor of the Irish Miscellany : — 
 
 As you are pretty well posted as to affairs in Bos- 
 ton, I want to know why the Columbian Artillery, 
 and other companies disbanded (or intended to be) 
 by Gov. Gardner.do not form indepeniiant military 
 companies, for if they wait until Massachusetts turn 
 Democratic, I am afraid there wout be one of the 
 olil squad at this side of Jordan. We have done so 
 in this State in two places — here and New Haven. 
 The New Haven company organized about a year 
 ago; but our company, the Montgomery Guaid, 
 never gave up the ship for one night. When the ad- 
 jutant general's order arrived, we, of course, gave 
 up the state arms, but continued to drill every Mon- 
 day night as usual, unt.l, through the kindness of 
 our own citizens, we procured muskets of our own. 
 This, in my humble opinion, is the way to prove to 
 Know Nothingism that adopted citizens know that 
 they have rights, and will maintain them outside of 
 such reasons. I believe that military companies 
 has a tendency to create a good feeding among our 
 countrymen, more than literary or other societies, 
 as there is not such a chance, as Oliver Byrne says, 
 for spouting. Wishing every success to the Irish 
 Miscellany, I remain truly yours, Leinster. 
 
 Bridgeport, Conn., Dec. 8. 
 
 Our esteemed friend from the 'Nutmeg' state had 
 better apply to Captain Thomas Cass, or the Messrs. 
 Dougherty, or Clancy. We suppose them compe- 
 tent to answer him. For ourselves, all we know is 
 that those gentlemen disbanded of their own accord, 
 giving up tin ir charter, but immediately formed them- 
 selves ijito a literary association, called the 'Columbia 
 Literary Association.' 
 
316 
 
 IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 FOREIGN INTELLIGENCE. 
 
 By the arrival of the 8tenni»hi|) IVrsU at New York 
 we have received our foreign exehaugos, with dates 
 from Ireland to the 27ih Nov. 
 
 IIIELAND. 
 
 Some eompaniusof an Engli>h miliila regiment, at 
 present situated in Cork, have just heen giving the in- 
 habitants of that city a taste of their temper. On Sat- 
 urday night, it appears, a building in some part of the 
 city took lire, and the valiant fellows of the StaHord- 
 liliire militia were drawn np at some distance from the 
 spot — whether for the purpose of ' preserving order.' 
 or with the design of letting the Cork public see that, 
 notwithstanding the rotting of the British army in 
 ludia, there was yet a squad or two left to keep Ire- 
 land in a state of wholesome terror— we cannot exactly 
 tell, but certain it is that there they were, and more- 
 over that just as if they were going in for the looting 
 of an Indian village and the slaughter of its people, 
 not only were thev under arms, hut ilicy had their bay- 
 onets fixed, and seemed to be in perfect readiness, and 
 something more than readiness, to use them. The 
 Examiner tells us that. ' they were placed in Acade- 
 my street, with fixed b.iyonets, and from the tendency 
 they showed to make use of their weapons, it is quite 
 evident they were hardly fit to be cnliusted with them. 
 For when a drunken man attempted to make his way 
 through the line, they not only did not show the pa- 
 tience which old soldiers would have displayed under 
 the circumstances, but actually made thrusts at him 
 with their bayonets.' There wereEiijIish heroes!— 
 trying to stab at the poor drunken fellow who wanted 
 to make his way through the line ! But the desire for 
 action manifested by the warriors of Stuffordahire had 
 not yet exhausted itself. The Examiner continues : 
 ' Not content with this they began charging the entire 
 crowd, con-isting in great part of women and boys. 
 One gentleman, whose name has been communicated 
 to m, heard some of the soldiers say, ' Damn them ; 
 let us be at them !' It was well for those brave Eng- 
 li-h fellows that they did not go at the women and 
 boys by whom they were surrounded. We venture to 
 eay that, notwithstanding their bayonets, the Cork men 
 would very soon be at them to some purpose, and the 
 warriors would find themselves in contact with a qual- 
 ity of muscle whi.-h is not to be met with in Siaft'ord- 
 shire. We have seen a good many of the militia regi- 
 ments which, since the commencement of the Crimean 
 war, have been scraped together somehow in England. 
 They have been sent across here to us from time to 
 time, for what purpese we cannot imagine, unless it 
 was to try the effect of a change of air, which, gener- 
 ally speaking, they looked sadly in need of. If it was 
 by way of ornament to the country they were sent 
 over, certainly there must be rather a queer taste pre- 
 vailing in the country they came from, and if it was 
 by way of use— well, we shall not hnrt their feelings by 
 saying anything on that point. But we can tell the 
 Staffordshire ' braves,' who were so anxious to get ' at ' 
 the crowd in Cork a few nights ago, thai, if ihey would 
 put aside their guns and bayonets, so that both parties 
 would be equally armed for the fray, we have a most 
 profound conviction that the market women of Cork 
 would beat their whole regiment into the river Lee; and 
 we tell them further, that though they are armed, and 
 the civilians do not appear to he, they would be actmg 
 wisely if they would putja little more restraint on their 
 fiery valo' for the future, and refrain from charging 
 with fixed bayonets at crowds of Irish women and chil- 
 dren. — [Nation. 
 
 The principal streets of oar city, says the Kilkenny 
 Journal, were the scene of a very disgraceful row be- 
 tween the police and military. It seems that some 
 soldiers of the Ulh Regiment were drinking at Mrs. 
 Maher's public house, in High street, and that a row 
 took place amongst themselves, during which they 
 broke some glass in one of the windows. A little girl 
 ran oat and called a policeman, Sub-Constable Timms, 
 who immediately proceeded to James street police bar- 
 rack for a few men to assist him in the discharge of his 
 duty. Two men returned with him to Mrs. Maher's, 
 
 and when they saw that the persons causing the up- 
 roar were soldiers, they wore about to leave the public 
 house, when one of the soldiers put his back to the 
 door, and dared the police to arrest him or any of his 
 party. The police were not provoked by any chal- 
 lenge, and contrived to get ont without further molcB- 
 latiou, when they proceeded to ihe Tholsel. They had 
 no sooner entered the little oflice, used as a lock-up, 
 than an alarm was given, by some one outside, that a 
 person was being murdered. They immediately rush- 
 ed out, when they were met by ten or twelve soldiers. 
 who struck at them with their belts, and inflicted some 
 severe wounds, particularly on Sub-Constable Timms, 
 who recieved a blow of a belt-clasp in the right eve, 
 injuring it to such an extent as renders i*doubtful 
 whether he will ever recover the use of it. The few 
 police who were present could make no defence against 
 such odds, and beat a retreat into the ollice. His wor- 
 ship the mayor was present on the spot, and stood at 
 the door of the oflice, warning o(f the soldiers from 
 further violence, when »hey desisted and proceeded on 
 their way to the barracks. In Rose-inn street they 
 met Sub-Constable Crean, and assaulted him without 
 provocation. They struck at him with their belts,and 
 he rushed for shelter as fast as he could, pursued by 
 the yelling soldiery till he got into Mr Callinan's 
 hotel, w'lieu the soldiers dashed in after him, breaking 
 the glass door, and perpetrating other acts of violence. 
 Crean escaped through the back door, and the mili- 
 tary proceeded to John street barrack, and coaxed out 
 Head-Constable M'Liughlin, saying that some civil- 
 ians were fighting. When he made his appearance, a 
 blow was struck at him, which he fortunately escaped 
 by dashing the door in the ruffian's face. Disappoint- 
 ed of their vengeance on Mr. M'Laughlin, they broke 
 the windows of Mr. Cole's oflice, which they mistook 
 for a portion of the barracks, and after satisfying 
 their destructive propensities they retired to their bar- 
 racks. 
 
 A fire which, during its duration, has hardly been 
 surpassed in the ciiy, and attended not only with loss 
 of property to a conaiderable amount to the proprie- 
 tors, but the throwing out of employment of a great 
 number of hands, took place in Frenchchurch atreet.at 
 the factory of Messrs. Baker, Simpson & Co., the ex- 
 tensive fancy buscuit manufacturers, about nine o'clock 
 on Saturday evening, Nov. 20. A few minutes after 
 the smoke was discovered, the engines of the Royal 
 Exchange and Atlas companies were brought to the 
 spot by one of the proprietors, but, as is usually the 
 case in this city, they had to wait for nearly an hour, 
 as no water was to be had during this time, and it 
 could only be procured by dispatching a messenger to 
 the water works. The flames spread rapidly, and 
 great fears were for some time entertained that they 
 would attack the adjoining premises. They were, 
 however, happily confined to the factory alone. The 
 fire having originated in the upper loft of the factory, 
 and the lofts being made of planks three inches thick, 
 it was a considerable time before they could be des- 
 troyed. The roof and the highest loft were demolish- 
 ed, and some machinery and property on a loft under- 
 neath crushed and broken. As far as we can learn, 
 the proprietors were not adequately insured, as, from 
 the cxteniion of their trade, various new machines 
 have lately been added. The loss will, we believe, 
 fall principally on the North of England Insurance 
 Company. We, however, hope that the business may 
 soon be again recommenced by the spirited proprietors, 
 who, many of our readers may not be aware, were the 
 first that introduced this branch of trade into this 
 country, and were preparing, the day of the fire, an 
 export order for the distant colony of New Zealand. 
 No blame seems attributable to any person, nor can 
 the origin of the fire be accounted for, as the lofts were 
 checked as usual after the men had left, and the gas 
 bad been extinguished.— [Cork Examiner. 
 
 The Derry Standard says : — A correspondent in- 
 forms Ds that a magnificent urn has been lately dis- 
 covesed on the Cum ber, estate, near Claudy, county 
 Derry, the property of William L. Browne, Eiq. This 
 
 relic of antiquity is thirteen inches in height, five inches 
 in breadth at the bottom, and is in good preservation. 
 It is simply but elegantly formed, and, when discov- 
 ered, was found to contain ashes and human remains, 
 but no inscription of any kind. This urn was found 
 at the bottom of a cut out bog, about two (ict below 
 the soil, so that it evidently belonged to a remote anti- 
 quity. About twelve months ago, two other urns of 
 similar size, one measuring six and a half iuches in 
 height, by three and a half at the base, the other three 
 and a half by two and a quarter inches, were found at 
 some distance in the neigliborhood at a place called 
 Kincull, but no inscriptions were discoverable. We 
 have heard that, some lime ago, a curious mallet, or 
 hatchet of gigantic dimensions, composcil of solid flint, 
 and apparently covered wiih ancient characters, was 
 dug up in the same district, but throngh the ignorance 
 of the parties into whose hands it came, this invaluable 
 relic was unforlunalely deslroyid. It weighed, we are 
 informed, twelve or thiricen pounds, having been broken 
 up to make a ten pound weight for common use. Had 
 this precious stone been preserved, it might have 
 thrown light on a period of our national history which 
 at present is involved in nearly total obscurity. The 
 urns referred to are now in the valuable untii|uarian 
 collection of William L. Browne, Esq., proprietor of 
 the Cumber estate. 
 
 On Thursday night, Nov. 18ih, between nine and 
 ten o'clock, a herd named Thady Keogh, in the em- 
 ployment of a Mr. M'Manus, was tired at within a 
 few yards of his own house, and severely wounded. 
 Keogh, with much presence of mind, wlien he found 
 that he was wounded, turned quickly round and 
 recognized the assassin, as he stood to see the effect 
 of his shot, who, on perceiving his victim fall, made 
 away across the country. Keogh was, after a little 
 time, conveyed to his home, and intimation of the 
 outrage having reached the police, a man named 
 Luke Spelman was arrested, and, on Saturday, an 
 inquiry took place in presence of James Koss, Esq., 
 K. M., and Captain Henderson, when the latter 
 placed the prisoner Spelman amonst a number of 
 countrymen, and he was fully recognized by Keogh, 
 whose information was at once taken. Spelman 
 was brought into Athlone on Sunday night, and 
 lodged in the bridewell. Some time since a house 
 on this property was maliciously burned, and the 
 vigilance since exercised by the heard is supposed 
 to be the cause of the outrage. The weapon used 
 must have been a blunderbuss, and placed quite 
 close to the unfortunate man, as twelve slugs have 
 been lodged in his shoulder and back, and the wall 
 near where he stood is marked with a shower of 
 shot and slugs that went over him ; his escape from 
 instant death was miraculous. — [Wcstmeath Inde- 
 pendent. 
 
 A monster of those species which inhabit the deep, 
 having found its way some weeks since to the inner 
 portion of Clew Bay, Mayo, (so beautifully studded 
 with islands and estauries near Westport) to the 
 great alarm and detriment of several industrious 
 tishennen, its capture was decided upon, and most 
 decidedly carried out a few days since by Com- 
 mander Wilcox, of the coast-guard, Lieut. Hardy, 
 of her majesty's cutter Wellington, and Dr. Eurke, 
 Mayo Rifles. Its whereabouts being ascertained, 
 the gallant marksmen, by a well-regulated, cross 
 rifle flre, succeeded in driving, after much pulling 
 about, the object of their destruction (as it now and 
 again rose to the surface to breathe) into the long 
 estuary terminating at Castleaffy, under the old 
 ruins of which, after an exciting chase of five hours, 
 it was finally dispatched in shallow waler,and con- 
 sequently towed and hauled on the beach under 
 Innislyre Coast-Ouard station, where it was found 
 to be a specimen of the Grampus, measuring about 
 20 feet by 12 in circumference. 
 
 It is known that the Leinster estates of the Earl 
 of Kemnare, Carlow, have just been sold in the In- 
 cumbered Estates Court in order to relieve the ex- 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 317 
 
 tensive estates of Lord Kenmarc from nil incum- 
 brances. But it may not be generally known that 
 when the tenantry who had no leases of their farms 
 on the lands which were about to be disposed of, 
 heard of the intention to dispose of the property, they 
 waited on Lord Castlcrosse, fearing that the Lein- 
 ster estates might fall into hands that dispossess 
 them of their respective holdings. His lordship, 
 however, with that kindness and good nature for 
 which he is distinguished, soon allayed their appre- 
 hensions by granting them leases of thirty-one years, 
 thus lessening the value of the property which was 
 sold immediately afterwards by at laast £10,000. 
 Such instani^s of noble disinterestedness are indeed 
 rare, not only in Ireland, but elswhere too. What 
 contrast does the munificence of this young noble- 
 man present to the griping selfishnes and tyrannical 
 treatment which the tenantry of Donegal receive 
 from their landlords. — [Post. 
 
 The Cork Examiner says : ' A meeting of the di- 
 rectors of the Athenaeum was held for the purpose 
 of con.-idering if Gavazzi should be permitted to de- 
 liver his lectures, as announced, in that building. 
 Upon the representation of his worship the mayor, 
 that a breach of the peace would probably occur in 
 the event of permission being given, it was decided 
 unanimously to refuse the application of the Padre's 
 friends in this city, and considering that they would 
 not be disposed to make good any damage that 
 might be done to the building, we conceive the di- 
 rectors have acted prudently.' 
 
 Many years since our beloved pastor, Archdeacon 
 O'Reilly, found it necessary to denounce and expose 
 the vile system of secret societies in his paiish. By 
 his zeal and determination he at that time effectu- 
 ally succeeded in crushing these illegal confedera- 
 tions, an4 since then our neighborhood has been 
 free from their foul influence. But it would appear 
 that symptoms have appeared of their revival, and 
 on Sunday last Archdeacon O'Reilly deemed it his 
 duty again to announce secret societies, and warn 
 his parishioners against such combinations, forcibly 
 pointing out the misery and ruin they were sure to 
 enttil. He said he had heard of their existence on 
 the Leinster side of the town ; but, if they were in- 
 troduced into his parish, he would spare no exer- 
 tion to expose and crush them, as he had done on a 
 former occasion. — [Athlone Sentinel. 
 
 Mr. and Mrs. Barney Williams gave their share of 
 the receipts of their last performance in Dublin, 
 amounting to £81 Os. Id., to the lord mayor, to be 
 distributed among the charitable institutions of the 
 city. 
 
 The fidelity, industry, and love of the Irish peo- 
 ple for their kindred, says the Munster News, are 
 manifested in the remittances which arrive with 
 every mail from abroad. On Wednesday over eighty 
 money orders reached Limerick through the post 
 from Australia. 
 
 On the line from Wexford to Liverpool, in conse- 
 quence of the violent opposition that exists on this 
 line, passengers are being carried for Is. per head ; 
 the rate of charge for live stock is also ridiculously 
 low ; it is rumored that they take them for noth- 
 ing and give a feed of turnips into the bargain. — 
 [Waterford Mail. 
 
 All the preliminaries connected with a railway to 
 Nenagh are progressing speedily. The tracing of 
 the line has been received by Mr. Bolton ; the pro- 
 spectus is being made out, and will shortly be sub- 
 mitted for public approval, and Sir Matthew Bar- 
 rington. Son, & Jeffers, solicitors to the Great 
 Southern and Great Western railway company, have 
 agreed to prepare the parliamentary bill for the con- 
 struction of the undertaking. 
 
 In this county, says the Clare Freeman, we are 
 happy to say, nothing has occurred which would 
 lead us to suppose that agrarian disturbances are 
 likely to become general. As to two or three ttireat- 
 
 cning notices about mock land, which the police 
 found posted up a few days ago in this town, wc do 
 not think the slightest importance is to be attached 
 to them. They are, doubtless, the work of some 
 idle vagabond, who has taken that mischievous way 
 of amusing himself, and it is evident the police au- 
 thorities did not look upon the matter in any serious 
 light, or they would have brought it before the 
 magistrates, of whom there was a meeting on Mon- 
 day in the court house. 
 
 On Monday last, the unhappy children of the late 
 John U'Malley were taken from the convent schools 
 of the Sisters of Mercy at Tuam, by Mrs. JaneRob- 
 ineon and her solicitor. The children wept and 
 screamed, and called on the priest and the good Sis- 
 ters to save them, but Mrs. Robinson and her at- 
 tendant attorney caught them up in their arms, and 
 hurried them away, and so ended the-case of Ae 
 O'Malleys for the present — a case which should ever 
 be a warning to Catholics against the danger of 
 mixed marriages. Any reliance on 'the law' in 
 these cases is a gross mistake — the law will always 
 be on the side of the Protestant parent, whether 
 that parent be the father or the mother. This has 
 been proved over and over again, before and since 
 the celebrated case of Alicia Race. But law all at 
 one side is nothing new to the Catholics of these 
 countries ; it is only ' the old, old story.' — [Na- 
 tion. 
 
 Galway Line. — Mr. Lever publishes the follow- 
 ing letter received by him from Lord Clarendon : — 
 November 23, 1858. 
 
 Sir : — I have to apologize for the delay which, in 
 consequence of my absence from England, has oc- 
 cured in acknowledging your letter of the 6th inst., 
 inclosing a prospectus of the company established 
 for the conveyance of European mails and passen- 
 gers, via Galway, to British America and the United 
 States. Since my attention was directed to this 
 important subject, several years ago, I have always 
 been of opinion that the advantages of the geo- 
 graphical position of Galway would not be fully 
 recognized until it had been demonstrated that the 
 passage by that route to America could be more 
 quickly performed then by any other. I heartily 
 wish success to the company by whom that fact has 
 now been established, and I beg at the same time to 
 congratulate you upon your connection with an un- 
 dertaking which promises, in many ways, to be ben- 
 eficial to Ireland. I am, &c., Clarendon. 
 
 It is announced that the Galway (Lever) trans- 
 Atlantic company have concluded a contract with 
 Palmer Bros. & Co., shipbuilders, Newcastle-on- 
 Tyne, for the construction of three first class side 
 wheel steameis, to be ready for sea respectively in 
 June, July and August next. The steamers are to 
 be of large capacity, and it is said that a guarantee 
 has been given that they shall be equal to the per- 
 formance of twenty miles per hour, minium speed, 
 with a consumption of only seventy tons of coal per 
 day. 
 
 A correspondent from Galway, on whose veracity 
 we rely, assures us, ' on undoubted autlioriiy, that 
 Lord Bury is negotiating in America for the pur- 
 chase of the Collins steamers,' in order to place them 
 on the Galway station. A letter from New York, 
 dated New York, Nov. 9, conveys this information 
 to our correspondent, who adds, ' These vessels are 
 so well known that I need not say a word more. 
 The Adriatic made one voyage which was the short- 
 est on record. She beat the Persia by several hours.' 
 —[Packet. 
 
 FRANCE. 
 
 The trial of Count de Montal-mbert and M.Dou- 
 noil, editor of the Correspondant, charged with hav- 
 ing pulilished a .seditious libel entitled ' a debate on 
 India in the British parliament," commenced at noon 
 on the 2Uh November, before the sixth chamber of 
 correctional police, presided over by M. Berthelin. ' 
 
 The speeches of MM. Berryer and Dufaure, on be- 
 half of the accu.sed, are said to have been magnifi- 
 cent beyond description. The former spoke for two 
 hours and a half, and said that the prosecution was 
 ' unjust, unfounded, ill-advised, and, he would add, 
 rash. When Berryer concluded, a tremendous shout 
 of ' bravo ' burst from the lower end of the court. 
 The president ordered the police to turn out, but 
 they could not put their finger upon any one. 
 
 At 6 o'clock in the evening the judges retired to 
 deliberate, and at 7 o'clock they returned into court 
 and promoted judgment to the following effect : — 
 Montalembert to be imprisoned for six months, and 
 to pay a fine of 3,000 francs ; Dounoil to be impris- 
 oned for one month, and to pay a fine of 1,000- 
 francs. Both defendants to be jointly and severally 
 held liable for the fines and the costs of the trial, 
 and in default of payment to be imprisoned one 
 year. 
 
 A gentleman who had the good fortune to obtain 
 a ticket of admission, says, describing the scene, ' I 
 have heard all the most distinguished advocates of 
 the day in England, but I tlink I am not carried 
 beyond the bounds of sober judgment, by the en- 
 thusiam of the moment, when I offer the opinion 
 that none of them, in point of eloquence of the high- 
 est order, are at all comparable to either M. Ber- 
 ryer or M. Dufaure. Berryer, quivering with con- 
 tagious passion, and yet never for a moment forget- 
 ting the legal points of his case during a speech of 
 three hours, was one of the finest sights I ever saw 
 in my life. Dufaure, regarded as a mere lawer, is 
 probably now the greatest at the French bar, but he 
 is much more than a mere lawyer. His severe logic 
 and concentration remind me of the late Sir Wil- 
 liam FoUett, but he is much more eloquent, his ac- 
 tion is more varied and dignified, and hehashumor^ 
 which FoUett had not.' 
 
 LATER FROM EUROPE. 
 SAFETY OF THE INDIAN EMPIRE. 
 
 The steamship Arabia, from Liverpool 4th inst.> 
 arrived at Halifax on 16th inst. 
 
 The Indian Empire reached Broadhaven, county 
 Mayo, the 26th ult., all v.'cll. Her fuel was ex- 
 hausted, and she was obliged to consume a portion 
 of her cargo and woodwork. She was also short of 
 provisions. The ship was obliged to lay to for a 
 week, when within a day or two's steaming of Gal- 
 way, owing to furious storms. 
 
 All English papers containing reports of the 
 trial of Montalembert are forbidden to enter 
 France. 
 
 The ten deputies of Corfu had protested against 
 the truth of the statement that the inhabitants de- 
 sire an incorporation with Great Britain, and say 
 they desire annexation to Greece. 
 
 The London Times continues editorially to hold 
 up the corruption which prevails amongst official* 
 in the United States, as a warning against the adop- 
 tion of universal suffrage, likewise draws similar 
 lessons from the Canadian system. 
 
 Much anxiety is felt for the troop-ship Bombay, 
 with about three hundred soldiers on board, bound 
 for India. The ship was dismasted and lost some 
 of her crew, as she was proceeding to Cork for addi- 
 tional troops. She was afterwards seen battling the 
 storm in a most distressed conditiou, but still later 
 wasspokcn.making goodheadway under jury masta 
 for Plymouth. 
 
 The Lord Lieutenant of Ireland has issued a pro- 
 clamtion against Ribbonism and other secret socie- 
 ties. 
 
 The Emperor Napoleon pardoned Montalembert, 
 but he refused it, and has entered a formal appea 
 against his sentence. 
 
 The news from India is one-sided, as usual. No 
 reliance can be placed on anything passing throui^h 
 an English channel. 
 
818 
 
 miSH MISCELLANY. 
 
 AMERICAN FILLIBUSTERINC. 
 
 Anvlliing binrinj; upon our pnsont relations with 
 £i}gland cunnol but bo regarded with a consider- 
 ablo degree of interest »t this time. The London 
 Times of a reeent date delivers President Buchanan 
 and tho American people the following rRtt^suLY 
 leciuro upon the course they must herealter pursue in 
 regard to the acquisition of any new territory by filli- 
 bustering. The logic of the ' Thunderer ' is only 
 equalled by its ignorance, selfishness and inconsisten- 
 cies as regards everything connected with tho Amer- 
 ican continent : — 
 
 ' Never nation more entirely misunderstood the true 
 grounds of its own strength, the true basis of its own 
 glory, or the true elements of its present and future 
 prosperity, than did the United Slates when they suffer- 
 ed themselves to be prevailed upon to go tilllbustering. 
 Wo are not speaking now from a moral but only from 
 a political point of view. There have been communi- 
 ties in the world to whom piracy and rapine, which is 
 not exactly a necessary of life, have been, at any rate, 
 an indispensable condition of wealth and progress. Tho 
 Northern barbarians who overwhelmed the Uomnn em- 
 pire were driven to issue forth tVum the dreary solitude 
 of Central Asia by a stern necessity, exhibiting itself 
 in the form of an onslaught from some other tribes 
 more hungry, more needy, and therefore more violent 
 than themselves. 
 
 The Danes and Norwegians, who overran the coasts 
 of Europe during the middle ages, from Caithness to 
 Constantinople, acted under the compulsion of a rigor- 
 ous climate and a barren soil, and if Russia follows 
 their example, she may plead a somewhat similar ex- 
 cuie. But tho United States of America have no such 
 pretext to ju»tity them in the invasion or in conni- 
 vance at the invasion of the territories of their neigh- 
 bors. They have more elbow-room than any nation 
 of the earth. Thty have their choice of climate from 
 the winter of Norway to the summer of Egypt. They 
 have their choice of land, from the finest alluvial flats 
 to tho breeziest uplaaa pastures, from tho sea-shore to 
 a distance from the ocean almost as great as the 
 breadth of Europe. Their difficulties spring not from 
 the pressure of population or the means of subsistence, 
 but rather from the superabundance of land yet unoc- 
 cupied. If their railways do not pay, it is because 
 they are made in anticipation of a people that is yet to 
 come, because many of them pass through a fertile 
 desert possessing every clement of wealth and pros- 
 periiy except the care and industry of man. 
 
 From the same cause, the dispersion of the popula- 
 tion over a vast tract of country, arises the tendency 
 aomeiiraes observed in the more remote parts of the 
 country to a retrogression from the usages of civilized 
 life. It would seem, thertfure, that America has 
 nothing to do but — like the Laird of Dumhedikes' 
 Ifees — to grow while we sleep. If she can maintain a 
 govcramenl suflietently to protect life and property, if 
 she continue to double her population at the end of 
 ev^ry twenty-five years, she has a destiny before her 
 which leaves no reason to envy the lands and pros- 
 pects of any nation of the earth. Tho elements she 
 contains within herself are sufficiently homogeneous 
 to fuse into a single nation, and that nation must, if 
 things go on as they arc now proceeding, become in 
 no very long time as numerous as the Chinese them- 
 selves, and far more powerful than all the states of 
 Europe put together. 
 
 It is not strange that the heirs of this magnificent 
 inheritance should have been so blinded by vanity, by 
 party spirit, or by amijition, as to believe that they 
 could accelerate the destiny which is so clearly work- 
 ing itself out in their favor, by piratical inroads upon 
 neighboring nations 1 The mission of America being, 
 as we have said, to grow and increase, how can she 
 more effectually counteract it than by sending her sons 
 to contend with deadly climates and hostile popula- 
 tions tor the possession of lauds in all respects inferior 
 to that which she enjoys in such abundance at home ? 
 Why should Araeri a, inh.ibiied by a race which evi- 
 dently flourished best in the nurihern paitof the tem- 
 perate zone, leek to force her way into regions where 
 
 her sons, if thiy establish themselves, must becomo in 
 a few generations enervated and degenerate, and very 
 probable unable to maintain the possessions which 
 they fjavo acquired ! 
 
 A hundied years hence the then people of America 
 may find emigration, if not a necessity, at any rate a 
 convenience ; hut even then we think they will seek for 
 their new settlements rather in the temperate regions 
 of South America and Northern Asia than in the 
 burning and insalubrious jungles of the tropics. Let 
 America look at our e.xperisnee, and profit by it. Our 
 colonists in the temperate zone, the Slates themselves 
 among tho number, have been incredibly successful. 
 Within the tropics our success has been much more 
 checkered, and our great tropical empire of Ilindostan 
 is held only at a price of blood, and treasure, and of 
 anxiety, which makes ns often half inclined to regret 
 the success of tho British fillibusters of the eighteenth 
 century. Entertaining these views, we have read with the 
 most lively satisfaction the anti-Walker iiroclamaiion 
 of President Buchanan. It will be a h:ippy day for 
 America if she can prevail upon herself to act accord- 
 ing to the policy of her President, and to adopt the 
 principles of his organ in the prees. She may take it 
 as the feeling of all her well-wishers on this side of the 
 Atlantic, that nothing would tend to raise her so much 
 in the eyes of Europe as to see her people as well as 
 her government separate themselves emphatically and 
 entirely from any appearance of sympathy or interest 
 in the transactions of such second-rate adventurers and 
 reckless homicides as the so-called Generals Walker 
 and Henningscn. 
 
 Europe is not so straight laced that there would not 
 be in many quarters a secret, or perhaps an avowed, 
 sympathy for the splendid iniquities of a Cortez, a 
 Pizarro or an Alvarado. But America would be little 
 flattered could she be made acquainted with the re- 
 marks that one hears on the delusion of a great nation, 
 which suffers its character to be soiled before the world 
 by the outrages of a set of stupid bravos, who do not 
 even understand their own miserable trade, and which 
 is betrayed into a demonstration of sympaiy for men 
 who have dragged its flag through the dirt without of- 
 fering it in return the slightest moral or political ad- 
 vantage. 
 
 The decided stand which Mr. Buchanan has taken 
 in this matter is the more creditable to him because in 
 making it ho is by no means to be considered as the 
 representative of the party to whom he owes his elec- 
 tion. Such countenance as the fillibusters have re- 
 ceived in America is mainly owing, we believe, to the 
 desire of the South to bring new slave States into the 
 Union. The North is increasing so rapidly that the 
 South is leasonably apprehensire of losing its own 
 preponderance unless it can succeed in establishing 
 new slave States as a counterpoise. 
 
 Now slavery, though doubtless, as has been repeated- 
 ly and triumphantly proved by the newspapers de- 
 voted to its advocacy, in every other respect exceed- 
 ingly superior to freedom, has at any rate this draw- 
 back — that while freedom has a tendency to grow and 
 increase, slavery is essentially stationar} — nay, it is 
 well if it does not become a retrograde institution. It 
 has no chance in a race of growth with the North, and 
 therefore somo people have tjeen disposed to connive at 
 the enormities of such men as Walker, under the idea 
 that, whatever are their moral obliquities, they are 
 atoned for by the fact that they go forth as the champ- 
 ions of slavery, to maintain its predominance against 
 the inroads of freedom in the councils of the republic. 
 Mr. Buchanan seems to be of opinion that whatever 
 be the merits of slavery as an instituiion and means of 
 political power to the Democratic "party, it is not 
 worth the price which is paid Icr it by countenancing 
 wholesale piracy and murder. We rejoice to see that 
 in this respect the Preiident of the United States, now 
 that his ol jeet is attained, and he looks no more for 
 re-election, has discarded the view: to which he gave 
 his sancuon at the conlerence at Ostend.' 
 
 We think John Bull, too has more than his share of 
 ' elbow-room ' in tho East, and more than he can well 
 maintain. 
 
 SLEEPING IN THE WRONG BED. 
 
 An accjuaintance of ours (Brown) sleeps in the third 
 story of one of our hotels. On Sunday night, contra- 
 ry to his muni abstemious habits. Brown concluded to 
 indulge himself in tho luxury of a hot whiskey punch. 
 1 he lii|Uor had the effect to set his spirits in a glow. 
 Brown argued with himself, nriihmeticiilly, if one 
 whiskey punch will make a man feel good, what will 
 two whiskey punches do ? Ho took another punch. It 
 is now bid time, ami Brown, slightly top-heavy, start- 
 ed towards his dormitory. As before stated, ho 
 roomed in the third story. Being a little heavier on 
 this occasion than usual, Brown, of course, experienced 
 more difliculty in getting up stairs. Owing to this 
 fact, he thought he had attained a greater altitude than 
 he really had. The consequence was, in the first place, 
 that Brown, in all innocence, entered the room imme- 
 diately below his own, in the second story. This room 
 belonged to a lady and gentleman, but was unoccapied 
 at the lime of Brown's entrance. The room was very 
 like his own, and Brown, not being intimately acquaint- 
 ed with himself, proceeded to divest himself of his 
 habiliments, and got into bed. Just as he had fallen 
 into a sort of dreamy, drunken wakefulness, ho felt a 
 soft hand wandering over his face, and pressing his 
 temples in a very affectionate manner. He leaped 
 with a sudden bound into the middle of the floor, and 
 the lady, for such it was, screamed, and ran down 
 stairs. Meeting her husband, who had just come in, 
 the lady informed him of what she had discovered, 
 and how she had very nearly made a terrible mistake. 
 The husband went up to his room, accompanied by a 
 couple of servants, and found the door locked. In 
 answer to his repeated thumpings on the door. Brown 
 answered, in great indignation, that rather than be in- 
 terrupted in that way he would leave the house, and 
 accordingly commenced to harness up. Meantime, 
 the true state of things flashed across his befuddled in- 
 tellect, as he opened the door he stood out in bold re- 
 lief to the husband and servants, looking the picture 
 of shame and confusion. Being a proverbially polite 
 man, Brown stood humbly passing his hands over 
 each other, as he related how the mistake occarred, 
 seemingly 
 
 "Washing his hands in invisible soap 
 And imperceptible water. 
 
 His profuse apologies and a happy exit saved him 
 from being precipitated headlong down stairs. He has 
 not been seen at table since, and is supposed to have 
 sought another boarding house. — [Wneeling (Va.) 
 Intelligencer. 
 
 VARIOUS ITEMS. 
 
 A ■WIT being told that an old acquaintance was 
 married, exclaimed, ' I am glad to hear it.' But 
 reflecting a moment, he added, in a tone of compas- 
 sion and forgetfulness, ' and yet I don't know why 
 I should be, he never did me any harm." 
 
 If you cannot avoid a quarrel with a blackguard, 
 let your lawyer manage it rather than yourself. No 
 man sweeps his own chimney, but employs a chim- 
 ney-sweep, who has no objection to dirty work, be- 
 cause it is his trade. 
 
 Self love exaggerates our faults as well as our 
 virtues. 
 
 MiKTH should be the embroidery of the conversa- 
 tion, not the web, and wit the ornament of the 
 mind, not the furniture. 
 
 A CRUST of bread, a pitcher of water, a thatched 
 roof, and love — there is happiness for you, whether 
 the day be rainy or sunny. It is the heart that 
 makes the home, whether the eye rests on a potato 
 patch or a flower garden. Heart makes home pre- 
 cious, and it is the only thing that can. 
 
 A WITTY dentist, having labored in vain to extri- 
 cate a decayed tooth from a lady's mouth, gave up 
 the task with the felicitous apology, ' The fact is, 
 madam, it is impossible for anything bad to come 
 from your mouth.' 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 319 
 
 ADVERTISEMENTS 
 
 MERCANTILE AND WRITING SCHOOL, 
 
 E. J. GLEESON, SListek. 
 
 This School is now opened at No. 23 roRTLAND Street, 
 a few doors south of Dooley's Exchange Uotel, where a 
 select and limited number of the Youth of both sexes wil 
 be admitted; time from9 A. M. to 12 M., and from 2 1'. M 
 to 6P.M. 
 
 TERMS MODERATE. 
 
 EVENING SCHOOL! 
 
 This school will be opened in the same place on the first 
 GTCuinf; of uext mouth, where adults aud those of riper 
 years, will be carefully aud assiduously iustructed iu the 
 various branches of learniu^', suitable to their calling. 
 
 BOOK-KEEPING: 
 
 Mr. Gleeson ventures to say, and pledges himself without 
 hesitation, tliat he will qualify young gentlemen for the 
 Counting Room, in half the time that is consumed in simi- 
 lar institutions in this city, and at considerable less ex- 
 pense. 
 
 August 17th, 1S5S. aug28 
 
 riNE READY MADE CLOTHING 
 
 SFKING OVERCOATS, 
 
 BUSINESS COATS, 
 
 FHOCK AND DRESS COATS, 
 
 PANTS AND VESTS, 
 Good, Stylish, Well Mads Garments, 
 Suob as men of taste and good judgment will wear, can at 
 all times be found at our store. 
 Our aim is to produce for our customers the best Ready 
 Made Garments at the lowest possible peices fob 
 CASH. 
 
 Readers of this Journal are earnestly solicited to exam- 
 ine our goods before purchasing. 
 
 J W. SMITH & CO., 
 
 Dock Square, corner Elm Street. 
 my 11 tf 
 
 SOUTH END CATHOLIC BOOK STORE, 
 
 And Depot for the Sale of the 
 
 METROPOLITAN AND YOUTHS' MAGAZINES. 
 
 "WILLIAM KEATING, Agent, 
 
 8 1-2 Harrison Avenue, or at his New Periodical Store, 176 
 
 Harrison Avenue, Boston, Mass., 
 
 "WTiere a great variety of the most popular Books and 
 
 Papers cam be had at the very lowest prices, 
 
 WILL supply Clubs, Agents, Canvassers, &c.. on the 
 same terras as the Publishers. The following are 
 the terras — 3 copies will be sent by mail, to one address, for 
 one year 85; 6 copies for ©10; 13 copies for $20; 20 copies 
 for S30. 
 
 DC?* On the receipt of S3, three copies of the Catholic 
 Youth's Magazine and one copy of the Metropolitan will 
 be mailed regularly tor one year. 
 
 (TT* A few sets of the Magazines from the beginning, can 
 be had of the Agent. Also, all new books furnished as 
 eoon as published. ap24 3mos 
 
 ADVERTISEMENTS. 
 
 J. & R. MURPHY, 
 
 MANUFAOTtJKEKS OF 
 
 SURGICAL AND DENTAL INSTRUMENTS- 
 CUTLERY, 
 
 AND STEEL WORK OF EVERY KIND, 
 No. 3 HARVARD PLACE, (opposite the Old South,) 
 
 BOSTON, Mass. 
 E^Cutlery and Instruments of all kinds Repaired. 
 ly aug28 
 
 GENERAL TICKET OFFICE 
 
 — FOR THE — 
 
 S O UT HERN AN D WESTERN STATES 
 
 AND 
 
 THE CANADA3, 
 No. 2 AlBANT Stueet, Bostoh. 
 
 ED WARD EYAJf, Agent. 
 
 N. B.— Passnge to and from Liverpool, and Bills of Ex- 
 change on England, Ireland aud Scotland. 
 
 n|,24 ly 
 
 GILMOUES SALEM t(UADKILLE liANO. E. UP 
 TON, Jr., Prompter. ApjUjr to P. S. tiiLMoaa Es- 
 wx UouM, Saleu, Mas*. 
 
 OLD COLONY HOUSE. 
 
 PATRICK XIOLLY bc/je leave to announce to his pnt- 
 roiLs and tlie public nencnillv that he has coUBtamly 
 on hand at his old and wull-known Bland, 
 
 THE OLD COLONY HOUSE, 
 
 CORNER OF KNEELAND AND SOUTH STREETS, 
 
 A CHOICE ASSORTMENT OF 
 
 BRANDIES, AVINES, SCOTCH & IRISH 
 
 WHISKEY, CIGARS, &o. &o., 
 
 all of the very Jirst quality, which can be obtained too at 
 
 LOWER RATES 
 
 than elsewhere in the market ; in proof of which he invites 
 purchasers to give him a call. aug28 
 
 NORTHERN HOUSE, 
 
 NORTH SQUARE— BOSTON. 
 
 JOHN GLANCY Propriktok. 
 
 This House has rooms equal to any first class Hotel, and 
 permanent or transient Boarders can be accommodated 
 nearly one half cheaper than at any other House in the 
 City. 
 
 In the Reading Room can be found all the morning and 
 evening papers, and periodicals of the day, together with 
 an extensive Librart, for the free and exclusive use ol 
 the Boarders. 
 
 N. B. Strangers visiting Boston, can always find this 
 House a Home. 
 
 DO'ROURKE, respectfully informs his friends and the 
 • public, that he keeps constantly on hand COFFINS 
 of all sizes and kinds, at hi? Coflin Manufactory, No. 347 
 Federal, between Beach and Kneeland Streets, Boston, 
 which he will seJ] as reasonable as can he bought at any oth- 
 er place in the city. 
 
 N. B.— Orders punctually attended to, day or night. 
 
 Residence, No. 28 South street, Boston. 
 
 [C7~<j rave-Clothes furnished to order at short notice. 
 
 febl3 
 
 TURKEY SALVE 
 
 HEALS ULCERATED SORES, FELONS, 
 Burns, Whitlow, Palm Abscis, skin or water Scrofu- 
 la, Ulcerated Sore Legs, Bruises, Chapped Hands, Ulcers in 
 the Neck, Scald Head in Children, Frosted Feet, Sore Nose, 
 Boils, Bleeding Files, Ulcerated Sore Breast, Sore Nipples, 
 Inflamed Breasts made to supperate in twelve hours, with- 
 out a resort to the ' knile.' There is no Salve before the 
 public 60 powerful as this, being entirely made from the 
 strongest herbs, roots and barks'. It can be reduced so as 
 to be applied to a child one week old, or be made strong 
 enough to dress an ulcer every half hour, even after morti- 
 fication sets in. so that this salve will do more good in one 
 day than all others in one week. 
 
 N. B.— I give my entire attention to healing Ulcerated 
 Sores, and warrant perlect cure, failing in which 1 make no 
 charge. My motto is, 'No cure no pay.' Charges moder- 
 ate. 
 
 FRANCIS F. SPRING. 
 
 d41m 18 High street, Boston. 
 
 ADVERTISEMENTS. 
 
 FRANCIS GODFREY, 
 
 IMPORTER AND RESTORER OF 
 
 ITALIAN PAINTINGS, 
 
 AND MANUFACTURER OF GILT FRAMES, 
 
 12 Fkanklin Street, Boston. 
 
 (C/* Engravings, Lithographs, Crayons, &c., on sale. 
 
 Sm nuK23 
 
 P . MORRIS, 
 
 APOTHECARY, 
 
 Comer of Federal and Purchase streets, foot of Summer 
 
 street, Boston. 
 
 STRICT personal attention paid to compounding Phvsi 
 clan's Prescriptions. A choice selection of Family 
 Medicines constantly on hand. A well selected stock of 
 genuine imported Perhimery and Fancy Goods. Suda 
 Waterwith choice Syriins. A large aasortmeut of genuiuo 
 Havana Segars constantly on hand. ap6 
 
 THE IRISH VINDICATOR. 
 
 A WEEIiLY NEWSPAPER, 
 
 The Best akd CHKArEST PUBLieriED in America. 
 
 TniS splendid Paper, which is little over nine months 
 n existence, has met with the 
 
 M„ WONDERFUL SUCCESS, 
 
 and has been pri/uounccd by the Press and the Public to be 
 superior to any other Irish Weekly in the United States. 
 
 It contains each week, the very 
 
 Latest News from every County in Irelaitp ; 
 
 Original and entertaining 
 
 STORIES AND ANECDOTES, 
 
 and a variety of Miscellaneous Reading matter, of a charac- 
 ter which cannot fail to elevate aud chasten the intel- 
 lectual appetite. The Irish Vindicator is devoted 
 
 TO THE INTERESTS OP IRISHMEN IN AMERICA, 
 and is so cheap as to be within the reach of the poorest. 
 
 ONLY THREE CENTS A COPY. 
 
 THE FOLLOWING ARE THE TERMS 
 
 To any part of the United States, for one year, Sl.SO 
 
 Do. do. |do. for 8 months, 1.00 
 
 Do. do. do. fori months, 0.60 
 
 Do. do. do. for 1 mouth, 0.12 
 
 To any part of Canada or the British l*roviuces, one year 
 
 $2,00— All payments in advance. 
 
 FOR ADVERTISING, 
 
 12 lines, single insertion SlOO I 12 lines, 1 month, K2.50 
 12 do. 3 months, 6.60 | 12 do. 1 year, 16.00 
 
 Published every week, at the Oifice, No 10 Spruce street 
 New York, by the Proprietors. 
 
 EDWARD DOWNES CONNERY & CO. 
 
 New York, march 27 
 
 THE SOUTHERN CITIZEN, 
 
 IS published weekly at Knoxville, Tennessee, by JOHN 
 MITCHELL & WM. G. SWAN, at 82 per annum, or 
 SI for SIX months, payable invariably in ad\ance. 
 
 Mr. Mitchell having commenced in the 28th number of 
 the paper, a series of Letters addressed to the Hon. Alex- 
 ander H. Stephens of (jeoi-gia, which when completed will 
 furnish an entire history ot 
 
 THE IRISH TROUBLES OF 1848, 
 
 With their Causes and Consequences, 
 
 The Southern Citizen will be the more interesting to both 
 American and Irish readers. Besides these contributions 
 from Mr. Mitchel, the Southern Citizen will continue to 
 have its usual quantity of original matter upon political 
 and literary subjects prepared by him. The circulation, 
 though large and constantly increasing, the proprietors 
 have thought will be much more extended by an announce- 
 ment in this form. 
 
 Communications with remittances may be addresed to 
 Mitchel & Swan, Knoxville, Tennessee, or to any of the 
 following Agents: 
 
 S G Courteuay & Co, Charleston, S C; Thomas B O'Con- 
 nor, Savannah, Ga; J C Morgan, New Orleans, La; Jas A 
 Gentry, Richmond, Va; Alexander Adnm'on, Washington 
 city; Talliuage & Tanner, Cincinnati, (); I'M Uuvertv, 110 
 Fulton street, N Y; S H Goetzel, 33 Dauphin street. Mobile 
 Ala; Benj B Davis, Masonic Building, Montgomery, Ala: 
 Ross & Toucey, 121 Nassau street, N Y, supply dealers only 
 upon reasonable terms; James McGinn, 1'21 Kearney street 
 San Francisco. 
 
 *,* Clubs of ten will be supplied with the paper for Slo. 
 
 clubs; CLUBS!! CLUBS!!! 
 
 There is no town or village so small, but a club of six or 
 more subscribers for the Irish Miscellany can he easily ob- 
 tained. Will those of our friends who are well-wishers ot 
 the land of their birth, do us the favor of getting up Clubs. 
 Our terms will be — 
 To a club of si.\ persons sent to one address, S10,00 
 
 To a club of twelve, 19, oo 
 
 The whole of the money must invariably be sent at one 
 remittance, and in advance. 
 
 Let all our friends exert themselves, and by their 
 patronage make the Miscellany the foremost Irish jooma 
 on this coutinent. 
 
 TRAVELLING AGENTS WANTED. 
 
 We have determined to appoint a number of Traielling 
 Agents, to travel in the various States of the Union and 
 canvass for subscribers for this paper We do this at the 
 earnest request of many warm friends, who think we do 
 not take the requisite steps to make the paper known as ex- 
 tensively as it ought to be. 
 
 Persons desirous of becoming Travelling Agents, who 
 can he well recommended, are requested to apply at our 
 oflicc forthwith. None but faithful, reliable men need ap 
 ply. To such a liberal commission will be allowed. Apply 
 at ourPublication Oflice, 4 Water street, Boston. 
 
 Back Numhers of the Miscellany, from the commenca 
 mentofthe paper, may be procured Ihrough auy of our 
 regular agents, or by tcndiug direct to the office of pubJi 
 cation, No. 4 Water street, Boston. Will our £friaodi in 
 want biar this Ihot In mind! 
 
320 
 
 IKISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 DR. IVES'S LECTURE. 
 
 We Bttcndfd ihis lecture as much ihrougli eurionity 
 u anvitiini; cUc, havinp a desire to see the nmn who 
 gave up a rrotestam bishopric to become a Catholic.and 
 who, with all odds a);ainst hini, was deieriniiied to 
 brave every pccuuiary storm for conscience sake. 
 Wc are saiistiid thai Dr. Ives is a inio convert 
 from Protestantism to Catholiriiy. The chief 
 points in his lecture were that the Protestant opinion, 
 80 well promulgated, ' That the Church of lionie is op- 
 posed to the spread of knowledge,' was well met, and 
 from Protestant authors we thout;hC decidedly refuted, 
 pointing to Kome, ancient or modern, as the school- 
 mistress of the arts. He made one point. Again wc 
 were quite convinced ihat the Protestant system u' free 
 and individual opinion upon the spirit and text of 
 holy writ had not tended tu establish pure Ciiristiunity. 
 He brought to our mind the Uev. Theodore Parker, 
 who so compleily hlls ;he same house and occupies the 
 same desk from which l)r. Ives addre-sed the people, 
 and his views carried us over the whole tield of modern 
 iulidiliiy, from spiritualism to Millerisiu — making 
 another point for the lecturer. That the Church of 
 Kome established schools wherever she planted the 
 cross, it is our peculiar province to know, not being 
 alile to find in Ireland, in all our researches, any 
 evidence but what supports the doctor; and that our 
 island seemed to drink in with more avi.liiy aud true 
 Christianity the wondtrful mission of the Saviour, is 
 cvidenned by the teachers and missionaries she sent 
 out — and we thought another point was made in the 
 lecturers favor by the proofs of history which declare 
 the Irish more educated than the people of other na. 
 tions around them during the period when the church 
 flourished, say from the fifth to the ninth century. But 
 the doctor's best point was when alluding to Protestant 
 Kn^iand's suppression of schools, making penal the 
 tsaching of Irish children, banishing the clergyman and 
 the schoolmaster, and now following the Irish emigrant 
 with derision and scorn for being ignorant and unlet- 
 tered, deciilely pointing to their own work, and the 
 tyranny which robbed the mind as well as the body of 
 man. England's Christianity, however, we do not 
 endorse, as the pure and golden ma.xims of film who 
 had not where to lay his head. Murder, rapine^ and 
 plunder are her leading points of doctrine from Ireland 
 to India, and instead of peace, the sword is promul- 
 gated. The doctor is a clear and distinct enunciator, 
 a good lecturer, and made a deep impression. We 
 hope to hear bim again. 
 
 Alder>iax Wichtman. — The expressions of re- 
 gret at the defeat of this gentleman, at the recent 
 election, affords another proof that the services of 
 valuable sei-i'ants are too frequently unacknowledg- 
 ed till the public are deprived of them. Alderman 
 Wightman, as we had occasion to remark previous 
 to the election, has been a careful, industrious and 
 worthy officer. Xo man in the city government is 
 so thoroughly ' posted up,' or bestows upon the 
 business brought before him more prompt atten- 
 tion. Even those who strove hardest to defeat him 
 now acknowledge his worth, uprightness and zeal. 
 Though he now lies under a shadow, we believe 
 thai, before many years, he will he called upon to 
 occupy and adorn a higher position tham any he has 
 yet occupied. Men of industry, integrity, keen dis- 
 crimination, and sound judgment, are not so plenty 
 «3 to allow of their being long kept in private life. — 
 [Ledger. 
 
 We heartily endorse the Ledger's estimation of 
 Alderman Wightman, for a better officer never tilled 
 an aldermanic chair than honest Joe Wighiman.and 
 we look upon his defeat as a sad loss to the city. 
 
 ADVEKTISEMENTS. 
 
 Jaues McGinn, of San Francisco, is our agent 
 forCalifomia,whowill take in return for our pictorial 
 lumps or dust from the diggings. Our friends 
 in the gold regions can send on a pile. We will send 
 back in return rich etfusions of litcrarv brains. 
 
 PARS.VCK KKUrCEl) liK IWKKX 
 
 LIVERPOOL AND BOSTON, 
 
 MERCHANTS' LINE 
 
 BOSTON AND LIVERPOOL PACKETS; 
 
 BAILINO VnOM LIVERPOOL DItlECT TO DOBTOX KVEKY 
 JflKTEEN DAYS. 
 
 THE SPLENDID rACKKl'S comprising this line are oh 
 follows:— 
 
 Stiips. Tons. Captains. 
 
 COSLMUUDKE- - - - 18(X) Itllsa 
 
 C'AUl.VLE 2IKI0 Maxwell 
 
 SUAW.MUT ... - UKK) lliHRlllS 
 
 Mo.vool.lA .... luiio Melclier 
 
 'J I10.S- J KKKERPON - IfitU - - Hill 
 
 VValtekSco'IT - - 180U Smith 
 
 I'lll.NcKSS lioVAL - - 21)00 Uurlley 
 
 lIiciiAiiu Mouse - - 1600 Uiusniore 
 
 'Ihalatta .... 1760 ----- Stiutiou 
 CA.MiiaiA - . . . lijoO ---..- I'crry 
 roCAHONTifl - - - 170U ----- - Delaud 
 
 KUKUS t'HOATE - - 1500 Kich 
 
 The.'e ships are all of the lirst claiis, mojtly new, aLd built 
 expressly lot the Liverpool trade; spacious between decks, 
 «ell \eiililiiled, with all the mudeni iniproveiiiems tor the 
 euinloi-t. Iiealtli uiid safety of pusseiifxei-s. 1 liev ui-e coiii- 
 niuii.Kil h\ Aniencun Cuptaiiis of known cxperieuce and 
 kiiiiliiess, wlio will curelully look to all the wants of tlic 
 passeli>;ers during the voyaf^e. 
 
 Each ship will be luruislicd with proper Medical atten- 
 dance. 
 
 I'enons sending for their frienda in the Old Country can 
 DEi'ESD ou having them ortlered up puomptly lor the 
 KiusT SHIPS, and at such times as will prevent their being 
 detained m Liverpool, as is ofteu practiced by the other 
 lines. 
 
 RATES OF PASSAGE 
 from Liverpool to Boston (including provisions): — 
 For persons 12 years of age, and over, - - - 820 00 
 
 l"or children under 12 years, 15 00 
 
 for infants under 1 year, at time of embarkation, 3 00 
 
 REMITTANCES. 
 Bills of Exchange on England, Ireland, Scotland, Wales 
 and Ciermauy, for sale iu sums to suit. 
 
 rassenger.'f lorwarded weekly to all parts of Europe by 
 Steam and Sailing ve.ssels. 
 
 PAGE, RICHARDSON & CO., 
 
 134 State street, Boston. 
 
 [TT- For PASSAGE CERTIFICATES from and to Liver- 
 pool, and Bills of Exchange, or for any information as 
 above, apply pcrsonallv or by letter to 
 
 LAWRENCE & RYAN, Agents, 
 
 D271y iS'o. 41 Broad street, Boston. 
 
 C.\THOLIC BOOK STORE. 
 
 WILLIAM HICKEY, Catholic Bookseller, and Agent 
 for the Extensive Publishing Uouse of D. & J. 
 Sadlier & Co., of Kew York. 
 The latest and most varied stock of Religious Prints, 
 MISSALS, PRAYER BOOKS, CROSSES, 
 and all the Current Literature, constantly on hand. 
 
 No. 128 Federal (corner op Williams) street, 
 
 BOSTON, MASS. 
 IMPORTANT TO HOUSEKEEPERS! 
 
 J . F R D • • • • • 1^8 Federal Street, 
 
 RESPECTFULLY" informs his friends and the public 
 that he continues to offer for sale a large aud select 
 assortment of 
 
 GROCERIES, 
 
 Consisting of TEAS, SUGARS, COFFEES, SPICES, &c. 
 
 — ALSO — 
 
 CHOICEST WINES, LIQUORS AND CIGARS 
 
 Wholesale and Retail. 
 
 THE BEST FAMILY FLOUR CONSTANTLY ON HAND. 
 The subscriber's long experience enables him to sell to the 
 purchaser's advantage, aud it is his undeviatjng aim to pro- 
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VOLUME 2— NUMBER 47.] 
 
 BOSTON, SATUiiDAY, JANUARY 1, 1859. 
 
 [PRICE FOURCE-VTS. 
 
 POPE PIUS THE NINTH. 
 
 We present our readers with a portrait of the 
 present head of the Roman Catholic church. 
 
 Pius the Ninth was the Cardinal Mastai Ferretti, 
 He is of a noble family of Senigallia, and received 
 the best civil as well as moral education. Love for 
 the study of the sciences was united with love for 
 the study of virtue, and both grew in him with age. 
 When he reached the 
 priesthood he became as 
 eminent a preacher as he 
 was a good theologian, 
 and learned in other mat- 
 ters. His merit raised him 
 to the honor of the pre- 
 lacy. During all this 
 time he was distinguished 
 for his labors of love 
 amongst the poor, teach- 
 ing them, and exercising 
 the ministry in the house 
 of retreat for the poor. 
 The education of young 
 men was one of his most 
 zealous cares. When the 
 diocess of Imola was va- 
 cant, he was the only 
 man whom the late Pope 
 deemed adapted to the 
 difficult task of dealing 
 with the temper of that 
 country, and the difficult 
 circumstances of a popu- 
 lar nature connected 
 with it. He was cre- 
 ated Cardinal Archbisop, 
 Bishop of Imola, Decem- 
 ber 14th, 1840. 
 
 Pope Pius is in his 
 sixty-ninth year, is of 
 commanding presence, 
 his countenance beam- 
 ing with an almost an- 
 gelic innocence, his hab- 
 its incorruptible, his man- 
 ners gentle and winning, 
 his learning eminent, his 
 capacity and dexterity in 
 business well proved ; in 
 a word, he abounds with 
 all the qualities requisite 
 to render him superemi- 
 nent in his exalted sta- 
 tion, whether we look to 
 the spiritual or temporal 
 duties now devolved up- 
 on him. The portrait of 
 Pius bespeaks such a 
 man. 
 
 It is a singular fact, that so little did Mastai ex- 
 pect his own elevation to the chair, that he was one 
 of the three cardinals appointed, after the third 
 scrutiny, to open the voting papers. Thirty-four 
 votes are the number required for the election, and 
 on opening the thirty-fourth, which gave him the 
 majority, his emotion was so great that he fainted 
 and fell. His two colleagues raised him and bore 
 
 POPE PIUS THE NINTH 
 
 him to his seat. For a long time he strenuously re- 
 fused to accept the election. 
 
 One of the first acts of Pius was to publish an 
 amnesty for all political offences, and to liberate all 
 the political persons who would pledge themselves 
 not to abuse this act of clemency. Of the political 
 wisdom of this act every one can form an idea, who 
 knows the discontent which prevailed in Romagna. 
 It is said that, by the an- 
 mesty, six thousand pris- 
 oners were liberated, of 
 whom nine hundred were 
 incarcerated in Rome, 
 the expense of whose 
 maintainance was about 
 £260 a day. This act of 
 the Pope threw the whole 
 population of his Stales 
 into a fever of enthusi- 
 asm. M. Rienzi, the 
 chief of the insurrection 
 which broke out in Ri- 
 mini.in September, 1845, 
 was liberated from the 
 castle of St. Angelo, and 
 admitted to an interview 
 with the Pope, who 
 would not allow him to 
 descend to the kissing of 
 the toe, but gave him his 
 ring to kiss ; treated him 
 with much affability, and 
 taking Rienzi's own 
 mtnifestoout of his desk, 
 observed that it contain- 
 ed many useful sugges- 
 tions, of which he would 
 avail himself. The pa- 
 pers abounded with ac- 
 counts of the Pope's sim- 
 ple behavior, walking the 
 streets of Rome without 
 ceremony, and of his at - 
 tive benevolence and 
 deeds of justice. It was 
 a glorious pattern for 
 monarchy — may it last ! 
 As the facts connected 
 with the election and sub- 
 sequent doingi of the il- 
 lustrious prelate who 
 now fills the chair of St. 
 Peter are of thrilling in- 
 terest, we shall hereafter 
 publish them, from a work 
 by one who was an eye 
 witness of the ' glorious 
 three days," and otl)er 
 interesting incidents. 
 
822 
 
 IRISH MISCEI.LA]^Y. 
 
 THE PRIVATE MEMOIRS OF CAPTAIN ROCK. 
 WRITTEN DT HIMSELF. 
 
 [Continued.] 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 riXAL ESTIBLISHMENT OF TUE ROCKS IN IRSLANO. 
 
 Iliiherlo our family noiyht have been said to liro in 
 ■ppnlieasion. Tlic union of (ho I^i^b princes mit;hl, 
 'one fell swoop,' have annihilated ihe English power, 
 and reduced the Uocks to inglorioas peace; hut the 
 folly of our countrymen sared us from the conse- 
 quence of national independence, and we rodo trium- 
 phant on the waves of perpetual discord. English 
 policy effected what English arms never could. The 
 Irish Chieftains were occasionally repulsed, as it 
 suited the motives of each successive monarch, until 
 their power was undermined and their authority dimin- 
 ished. Henry toothed them to peace, and Elizabeth 
 provoked them into hostility; but their purpose was the 
 same — the destruction of clanship. Perhaps this was 
 good policy, and, had it been honestly pursued, the 
 Irish people would not have to complain, for the time 
 had then come when feudal customs were no longer 
 calculated to promote the happiness of mankind. The 
 system had already began to degenerate, and Iri.-.h 
 historians have recorded some brutal and. tyrannical 
 acts committed by the petty rulers of provinces. Here 
 then was an opportunity for England to conciliate the 
 Irish people, to give them freedom from their local 
 o.ipressors, and to hind them by gratitude to their 
 bincfactors; but, as I before said, the policy of Britain 
 was always the same. ' Semper eadem ' should be 
 her motto, as she has uniformly neglected the right to 
 pursue the expedient. Instead of widening the grow- 
 ing breach between the chieftain and his followers, the 
 latter were robbed by the way of punishing the former, 
 and the ground which undoubtedly belonged to the 
 sept was confiscated, as that of the Canfinny. 
 
 Elizabeth, Jiowever, demolished the independence of 
 these petty princes, and her successor, James I., took 
 from them even the shadow of power. Their castles 
 were, in many instances, razed to the ground. 
 
 James was a pedant, and employed himself in writ- 
 ing metaphysical treatises, instead of attending to the 
 wants of his people. The Irish Roman Catholics bad 
 reason to expect some protection from him, and, for a 
 while, he was considered liberal, until he thought fit to 
 declare, by proclamation, that he was a bigot. He 
 forbade the Catholics the exercise of their religion, 
 banished their priests, and committed other acts of 
 intolerance, which will make his memory 'stink in the 
 DOitrils of posterity.' The Stuarts were altogether 
 Scots — selfish, narrow-minded egotists, and, thank 
 God, one of that anti-Irish race can never sit upon the 
 throne of Britain. 
 
 James's rapacity and confiscating propensities knew 
 no bounds. Ue robbed and cheated by wholesale, and 
 and yet the na ion continued tranquil. To explain 
 this Irish phenomenon, O'Halloran considers it a mat- 
 ter of sentiment, and thinks we continued peaceable in 
 consequence of the king being a kind of Milesian 
 bastard; but Sir John Davi-, Jimes's Attorney-Gene- 
 ral, supposes it resulted from the 'joy and comfort ' 
 the people felt at being 'brayed,' as it were, 'in a 
 mortar,' a process which has been frequently tried 
 since without producing any such demonstrations of 
 gladness. 
 
 Whatever was the cause, the thing actually existed, 
 and the following ode, composed by a bard of Kock- 
 glen, expresses the feelings of my famUy at this na- 
 tional supincness : — 
 
 Where ort thon, O Genius of Riot? 
 Where is thy yell of cleGuancc ? 
 
 Why are the Sheas and O'Shaaghnessies quiet? 
 And whither Lave tied the Oliourkcs aud O'Briens? 
 
 Up from thy slumbers, O'Branuigan! 
 Rouse the SlacShanes aud O'Uuggarties! 
 
 Courage, Sir Corucy OToolel — be a man again — 
 Kever let Ueffernan say, 'What a braggart 'tial' 
 
 Oh: wheu rebelliou'fi so feasible. 
 Where is the kern would be slinkiog off ? 
 
 Con of the battles: what makes you so peaceable ? 
 MaN the grand: what the devil are you Ihinkiu^ of? 
 
 The Irish are an inflammable people, and the burn- 
 ing sentiments of this odo had an imniediuto effect, 
 assisted, as they were, by our good allies — the I'rotes- 
 lant ascendency of the day — who, in one night, buteh- 
 orcd, in cold blood, three thousand men, women, and 
 children, in the island Magec, not far from Carriekler- 
 gus. The Rocks now flew to aims, under the banner 
 of thi ir cousin, the Chieftain of Lclx, on wliiili was 
 inscribed, ' God, our Lady, and Roger O'JIore,' or, 
 as it is now pronounced, ' O'Moore.' Success awaited 
 our first efforts.'and the rebellion of 1641 wore a most 
 promising aspect, when the Catholic aristocracy, loo 
 often loyal to little purpose, offered their services to 
 their Protestant oppressors. They were rejected with 
 scorn, and soon after joined the ranks of O'Neill. 
 Alas ! the principles of liberty were then little under- 
 stood, or Ireland was now a republic, and Captain 
 Rock, in all probability, a senator. The English 
 forces could not have withstood their opponents, had 
 they been guided by any tangible rule; but they fought 
 not, the fools ! for national freedom, but for English 
 concession. The resnit is well known; the Catholics 
 quarrelled among themselves, they ditided into parties, 
 and fell an easy prey to Cromwell, and the other 
 regicides, when they arrived in Ireland. 
 
 In reading the history of this period, one would 
 imagine that Ireland became a wilderness, and, if his- 
 torians were correct, this would undoubtedly have been 
 the case; but the truth is, Cromwell triumphed almost 
 without opposition, from the distractions already men- 
 tioned, and the tyrant is even loaded with greater 
 infamy than he deserved. I wish those who take upon 
 themselves to write the Irish histories would study a 
 little common sense; then they would soon see that the 
 Irish were not all driven into Connauyht by Cromwell, 
 nor extirpated by Elizabeth, nor murdered by William, 
 for, if any one of these circumstances had taken place, 
 how comes it that their language remained behind 
 them 1 This is a puzzler to those who sing their Je- 
 remiads over depopulated provinces, for even at the 
 present day the Irish language, except in Dublin and 
 half a dozen other towns, is the medium by which all 
 the business of life is transacted. A shopkeeper would 
 have little business in Cork, Limerick, Waterford, 
 Clonmcl, Kilkenny, Sligo, &c., &c., &c., unless he 
 could speak Irish. What preserves the national 'dia- 
 lect 1 An Irish population. What preserved the 
 people ? The family of the Rocks, to be sure. 
 
 With this chapter I shall conclude the history of my 
 ancestors, and from time to lime I shall give sketches 
 of Irish history — so little understood even in Ireland. 
 Erom the time of Cromwell the Rocks flourished in all 
 the lu.xuriance of a favored race. Our rulers promoted 
 our greatness by successive laws, compared with which 
 even those of Draco, though written in blood, were 
 humane. ' We have no instance,' says Dr. Johnson, 
 'in the ten persecutions of anything so cruel as that 
 inflicted on the Irish Catholics by the Protestants.' 
 Herod was out-Heroded in each successive reign, until 
 the accession of George III., whose son — notwithsland 
 ing the Insurrection Act — has all the good wishes of 
 Rock. Many of the penal laws, I admit, were inope- 
 ratire, for they were too wicked to be put in force; but 
 still their very existence contributed to add fuel to that 
 flame, from which the Rocks snatched the brand that 
 lit them on their way. 
 
 CUAl'TEU VIII. 
 
 THE PENAL LAWS. 
 
 The brave Sarsfield, the particulars of whose life, to 
 the disgrace of Ireland, is little known, surrendered 
 Limerick, after a protracted siege, to the English gene- 
 ral on certain conditions, which guaranteed the liberty 
 of his Catholic countrymen. He had, however, 
 scarcely landed in France when the articles of capitu- 
 lation were violated by the great and ' good' King Wil- 
 liam, whose memory the idiot corporators of Dublin 
 are so fond of toasting, thou(;h he was a decided enemy 
 of Ireland. 'How it is possible,' says Sir Henry Par- 
 ncll, ' to defend William and his ministers from the 
 charge of having acted with perfidy towards the 
 
 Catholics, it is not easy to discover. That they were 
 guilty of violating the treaty no one can deny. The 
 excuse that has been made lor William, that he was 
 obliged to submit to the power tf the aniiCatholic 
 parly, may easily be proved to be a mere pretext." 
 Everything demonstrates William's want of faiih, and 
 soon after we find his parliament passing acts to pre- 
 vent Catholics from silting in Parliament — preventing 
 them from educating their children at home or abroad, 
 preventing them from being guardians to their own or 
 other persons' children — preventing Catholic school- 
 mastiTS from teaching, and preventing Catholic 
 priests from residing in Ireland. 
 
 As if these acts of wanton tyranny were not sufficient 
 to oppress the Catholics, we find the following statutes 
 passed in the reign of Anne : — 
 
 ' On the 4th of March, 1704, Ihe royal assent was 
 given to the act to prevent ihe further growth of 
 Popery, bting the first of these two famous acts, which 
 have most deservedly been termed, by Mr. Burke, ihe 
 ferocious acts of Anne. 
 
 ' By the third clause of this act, the Popish father, 
 though he may have acquired his estate by descent 
 from a long line of ancestors, or by his own purchase, 
 is deprived of the power, in case his eldett son, or any 
 other son, becomts a Protestant, to sell, mortgage, or 
 otherwise aispose of it, or to leave out of it any por- 
 tions or legacies. 
 
 'By the 4th clause, the Popish father is debarred, 
 under a penalty of five hundred pounds, from being a 
 guardian to, or from having the custody of, his owu 
 children; but if the child, though ever so young, pre- 
 tend to be a Protestant, it is to be taken from its own 
 father, and put into the bands of a Protestant rela- 
 tion. 
 
 ' The 5th clause provides that no Protestant shall 
 marry a Papist, having an estate in Ireland, either in 
 or out of the kingdom. 
 
 ' The 6th clause renders Papists incapable of pur- 
 chasing any manors, tenements, hereditaments, or any 
 rents or profits arising out of the same, or of holding 
 any lease of lives, or other lease whatever, for any 
 term exceeding thirty-one years. Even with respect 
 to this advantage, restrictions were imposed on them; 
 one of which was that if a farm produced a profit 
 greater than one-third of the amount of the rent, the 
 right in it was immediately to cease, and to pass over 
 entirely to the first Protestant who should discover the 
 rate of profit. 
 
 ' The 7th clause deprives Papists of such inherri- 
 tancc, devise, gift, remainder, or trust of any lands, 
 tenements or htreditamenis, of which any Protestant 
 was or should be seized in fee simple, absolute or fee 
 tail, which, by the death of such Protestant, or his 
 wife, ought to have descended to his son or other issue 
 in tail, being Papists, and makes them descend to the 
 nearest Protestant relaiion, as if the Popish heir and 
 other Popish relations were dead. 
 
 'By the 10th clause, the estate of a Papist, for want 
 of a Protestant heir, is to be divided, share and sharo 
 alike, among all his sons; for want of sons, among his 
 daughters, and, for want of daughters, among the col- 
 lateral kindred of the father. 
 
 ' By the 1 5th clause, no person shall be exempt from 
 the penalties of this act that shall not take and sub- 
 scribe the oath and declaration required by this act to 
 be taken. 
 
 'By the 16th clause, all persons whatsoever, who 
 shall receive any office, civil or military, shall take 
 and subscribe the oath and declaration required to be 
 taken by the English act of third William and Mary, 
 and also the oath of abjuration required to be taken by 
 another English act of first of Anne, and also shall 
 receive the sacrament. 
 
 ' The 23d clause provides that no Papist, except 
 nnder particular conditions, shall dwell in Limerick or 
 Galway. 
 
 ' The 24th, that no persons shall vote at elections 
 without taking the oaths of all^-giance and aljuraticn. 
 
 ' And the 25ih clause, that all advowsons possessed 
 by Papists shall be vested in her majesty. 
 
 1 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 323 
 
 ' Though the treaty of Limerick was now violated 
 in every point, the spirit of persecution was still 
 restless and unsatisfied. However great was the 
 ingenuity of the legislators who produced that 
 master-piece of oppression, the act to prevent the 
 further growth of Popery, it was found that another 
 act was still wanting to explain and amend it. Such 
 an act was passed in the year 1709. 
 
 • The ls[ clause provides that no Papist shall be 
 capable of taking any annuity for life. 
 
 ' The following is the 3d clause, every word of 
 which is of value, in order to show the cruelty with 
 which the unfortunate Catholics of Ireland have 
 been oppressed : — ' And be it further enacted, by 
 the authority aforesaid, that where and as often as 
 any child or children of any Popish parent or 
 parents hath or have heretofore professed or con- 
 formed him, her, or themselves, to the Protestant 
 religion, as by law es;ablished, and enrolled in the 
 High Court of Chancery a certificate of the bishop 
 of the diocess in which she or they shall inhabit or 
 reside, testifying his, her, or their being a Protes- 
 tant, and conforming him, her, or themselves, to 
 the church of Ireland, as by law established, it shall 
 and may be lawful for the High Court of Chancery, 
 upon a bill founded upon this act, to oblige the 
 said Papist parent or parents to discover upon oath 
 the full value of all his, her, or their estate, as well 
 personal as real, clear, ovir and above all real in- 
 cumbrances and debts contracted, 'bona fide,' for 
 valuable consideration, before the enrolment of such 
 certificate, and thereupon to make such order for 
 the support and maintenance of such Protestant 
 child or children, by the di>!tribution of the said 
 real and personal estate, to and among such Protes- 
 tant child or children, for the present support of 
 such Protestant child or children, and also to and 
 for the portion or portions, and future maintenances, 
 of such Protestant child or children, after the 
 decease of such Popish parent or parents, as the 
 said court shall judge fit.' 
 
 ' The 12th clause provides that all converts in 
 public employments, members of parliament, bar- 
 risters, attorneys, or officers of any courts of law, 
 shaU educate their children Protestants. 
 
 ' By the 14th clause, the Popish wife of a Papist, 
 having power to make a jointure, conforming, shall, 
 if she survives her husband, have such provision, 
 not exceeding the power of her husband, to make a 
 jointure, as the chancellor shall judge. 
 
 ' By the loth clause, the Popish wife of a Papist, 
 not being otherwise provided for, conforming, shall, 
 have a proportion out of his chattels, notwithstand- 
 ing any will or voluntary disposition, and statute 
 7th "William III. 6. 
 
 'The 16th clause provides that a Papist teaching 
 school publicly, or in a private house, or as usher 
 to a Protestant, shall be deemed and prosecuted as 
 a Popish regular convict. 
 
 'The 18th clause provides that Popish priests, 
 who shall be converted, shall receive thirty pounds 
 per annum, to be levied and paid by grand juries. 
 
 ' The 20th clause provides, whimsically enough, 
 for the reward of discovering Papish clergy and 
 schoolmasters, viz: — For discovering an archbishop, 
 bishop, vicar-general, or other person, exercising 
 any foreign ecclesiastical jurisdiction, £50. For 
 discovering each regular clergyman, and each secu- 
 lar clergyman, not registered, £20. For discover- 
 ing each Popish schoolmaster or usher, £10. 
 
 'The 21st clause empowers two justices to sum- 
 mon any Papist of eighteen years of age; and if he 
 shall refuse to give testimony where and when he 
 heard mass celebrated, and who and what persons 
 were present at the celebration of it, and likewise 
 touching the residence and abode oi any priest or 
 Popish schoolmastsr, to commit him to jail, without 
 bail, for twelve months, or until he shall pay twenty 
 pounds. 
 
 ' By the 25th clause no priest can officiate except 
 
 in the parish for which he is registered, by the 
 second of Anne, c, 7. 
 
 • The 30th clause provides for the discovery of all 
 trusts agreed to be undertaken in favor of Papists, 
 and enables any Protestant to file a bill in chancery 
 against any person concerned in any sale, lease, 
 mortgage, or incumbrance in trust for Papists, and 
 compel him to discover the same; and it further 
 provides that all issues to be tried, in any action 
 founded upon this act, shaU. be tried by none but 
 known Protestants. 
 
 ' The 37th clause provides that no Papist in trade, 
 except in the linen trade, shall take more than two 
 apprentices.' 
 
 In the reign of George I., the following acts were 
 passed : — 
 
 ' An act to make the militia of this kingdom more 
 useful. 
 
 'By tho 11th and 12th clauses of this act, the 
 horses of Papists may be seized for the militia. 
 
 ' By the 4th and 18th clauses. Papists are to pay 
 double towards raising the militia. 
 
 ' By the 16th clause, Popish housekeepers in a 
 city are are to find fit Protestant substitutes. 
 
 ' An act to restrain Papists from being high or 
 petty constables, and for the better regulating the 
 parish watches. 
 
 ' An act for the more effectual preventing fraudu- 
 lent conveyances, in order to multiply votes for 
 electing members to serve in parliament, &o. 
 
 ' By the 7th clause of this act no Papist can vote 
 at an election, unless he takes the oaths of allegiance 
 and abjuration. 
 
 ' An act for the better regulating the town of 
 Galway, and for strengthening the Protestant in- 
 terest therein. 
 
 ' An act for the better regulating the corporation 
 of the city of Kilkenny, and strengthening the Pro- 
 testant interest therein. 
 
 ' An act by which Papists resident in towns, who 
 shall not provide a Protestant watchman to watch 
 in their room, shall be subject to certain penalties. 
 
 'By the 7 th clause of this act, no Papists can vote 
 at a vestry.' 
 
 In the reign of George II., the following were 
 passed : — 
 
 ' By the first clause of 1st George II. c. 30, bar- 
 risters, six clerks, &c., are required to take the oath 
 of supremacy. 
 
 ' By the 2d clause all converts, &c., are bound to 
 educate their children as Protestants. 
 
 ' By 7th Geo. II. c. 5, sect. 12. barristers or soli- 
 citors marrying Papists are deemed Papists, and 
 made subject to all penalties as such. 
 
 ' By 7th Geo. 11, c. 6, no convert can act as a 
 justice of the peace, whose wife or children, under 
 sixteen years of age, are educated Papists. 
 
 ' The 13th Geo. II. c. 6. is an act to amend former 
 acts for disarming Papists. 
 
 ' By the 0th clause of this act, Protestants educa- 
 ting their children Papists are made subjects to the 
 same disabilities as Papists are. 
 
 ' By 9th Geo. II. c. 3, no person can servo on a 
 petty jury, unless seized of a freehold of five pounds 
 per annum; or, being a Protestant, shall not be pos- 
 sessed of a profit rent of fifteen pounds per annum, 
 under a lease for years. 
 
 'By 9th Geo. 11. c. 6, sect. 5, persons robbed by 
 privateers, during war with a Popish prince, shall 
 be reimbursed by grand jury presentment, and the 
 money be levied upon the goods and land of Popish 
 inhabitants only. 
 
 'The lyth Geo. II. c. o, is an act for granting a 
 duty on hawkers and pedlars to the society of Pro- 
 testant charter-schools. 
 
 'The I'Jth Geo. II. c. 13, is an act to annul all 
 marriages between Protestants and Papists, or cele- 
 brated by Popish priests. 
 
 ' By the 23d Geo. II. c, 10. sect. 3, every Popish 
 priest, who shall celebrate any marriage contrary to 
 
 12th Geo. I. c. 3, and bo thereof convicted, shall be 
 hanged.' 
 
 The cruelty of these acts, like ambition, over- 
 vaulted their purpose; they were partially inopera- 
 tive. The Catholics multiplied under them; and 
 priests, during their exiatcnuc on the statute-book, 
 were more numerous than they are at present. At 
 length his late majesty, George III., mounted the 
 throne; and, though the early part of his reign was 
 disgraced by one or two additional penal statutes, 
 the bloody code soon after received a death-blow, 
 though its quivering members still proclaim a pain- 
 ful existence. In 1774, the first act of conciliation 
 was passed, and, in 1799 the Catholics were placed 
 in the sitution which they at present hold, little or 
 nothing having been conceded to them since. What 
 was done for them at this period will be seen from 
 the following list of disabilities under which ihcy 
 still labor : — 
 
 ' Education. — They cannot teach school, unless 
 they take the oath of 13lh, 14th Geo. III. c. 35. ' 
 They cannot take Protestant scholars, or be ushers 
 to Protestant schoolmasters, 32d Geo. III. c. 20. 
 
 ' Guardianship. — They cannot be guardians unless 
 they take the oaths of 13th, loth Geo. III. c. 35. 
 If ecclesiastics, they cannot, under any circumstan- 
 ces be guardians; nor can any Catholic be guardian 
 to a child of a Protestant, 30th Geo. III. c. 29. 
 
 ' Marriage. — If a Catholic clergyman marries a 
 Protestant and a Catholic, the marriage is null and 
 void, and he is liable to suffer death, 32 George III. 
 c. 21. 
 
 ' Self-defence. — No Cathclic can keep arms, unless 
 he possesses a freehold estate of ten pounds per 
 annum, or a personal estate of three hundred 
 pounds. If so qualified, he must further qualify 
 himself by taking the oaths of 13th, 14th Geo. III. 
 c. 35.; unless he has a freehold estate of one hun- 
 dred pounds per annum, or a personal estate of one 
 thousand pounds, 23d Geo. IIL c. 21. 
 
 'Exercise of Religion. — The Catholic clergy must 
 take the oaths of 13th, 14th Geo. III. c. 35, and 
 register their place of abode, age, and parish. No 
 chapel can have a steeple or bell, no funeral can 
 take place in any church or chapel yard, and no 
 rites or ceremonies of the religion or habits of their 
 order are permitted, except within their several 
 places of worship or in private houses, 21st, 22d 
 Geo. III. c. 24. sect. 6. 
 
 ' Property. — The laws of Anne are in force against 
 all Catholics who do not take the oaths of 13th, 
 14th Geo. III. c. 35.; and also against all Protes- 
 tants who may have lapsed or become converts to 
 the Catholic religion. 
 
 ' Franchises. — No Catholic can hold any of the 
 offi-ces enumerated in sect. 9. of an act here insert- 
 ed. 
 
 ' Catholics cannot sit in parliament. They can- 
 not vote at elections for members without taking 
 the oaths of the 13th, 14th Geo. III. c. 35, and of 
 33d Geo. HI c. 21. They cannot vote at vestries. 
 They cannot be barristers, attorneys, or professors 
 of medicine on Sir P. Dunne's foundation, without 
 taking the oaths of I3th, 14th Geo. III. c. 35, and 
 of Geo. III. c. 21, or even fowlers and game-keep- 
 ers. 
 
 ' Catholic soldiers, by mutiny act, if they refuse 
 to frequent the Church of England worship, when 
 ordered to do so by their commanding officers, shall, 
 for the first offence, forfeit two-pence; and, for the 
 second, not only forfeit twelve pence, but be laid in 
 irons for twelve hours; and, by the second section, 
 art. 5, of the articles of war, the punishment even 
 extends to that of death. 
 
 ' An Irish Catholic officer or soldier, on landing 
 in Great Britain, Jersey or Guernsey, is immedia- 
 tely liable to tho penalty, among others, the Eng- 
 lish act 1st Gea I. c. 13, of forfeiting three hundred 
 pounds. 
 
 ' Catholics are excluded from holding the office s 
 
824 
 
 IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 of governor,, dcputy-goTcrnor, or director, of the Bank 
 of Engluud. 
 
 ' No part flcarctly in fnct of the penal code is re- 
 pealed, but ull of it is now the law of the land, and in 
 full force a);aiDHt those Catholics who have Dot qualified 
 ihcniselves for relief from its violence, by taking the 
 oslhs of 13ih. Ulh Geo. HI , c. 35, or who may have 
 lapsed or become converts to the Catholic religion.' 
 
 I have made no altercation respecting the right of 
 burial, as Mr. Pluukett's late bill is inoperative. 
 
 Having now traced the cau^es which have given 
 fame to the Uocks, 1 shall, in my next number, return 
 to the history of my own private ofTnirs. 
 [To be Continued.] 
 
 KEDACH AND THE COUNSELLOR. 
 
 A few miles from Barnestown, the residence of the 
 famoDi Anthony Malone, and contemporaneous with 
 that worthy, there lived a jolly old squire of the regular 
 Irish icboul, named Kedagh Gcohagan. This old 
 gentleman, logcihcr with a great deal of Iiish virtues, 
 contained in himself a great deal of what his enemies 
 would call downright Irish vices and infamies. Among 
 them he was exceedingly litigious, to which disposition 
 the propinquity of such a convenience as the prime Ser- 
 jeant, was, perhaps, in some degree an encouragement; 
 be that as it may, the assi.slance of Mulone was often 
 given to extricate his unlucky neighbor out of those 
 scrapes which his infatuation was daily hurling him 
 into; bnt his patience and good will were at length ex- 
 hausted, when after years of such hard service, he had 
 to declare himself absolutely ignorant of the color of 
 Kcdagh's gold. 
 
 This unlucky consummation of his imprudence came 
 about at the very moment when the counsellor's aid 
 was most required. Poor Kedagh had got himself 
 into a dreadful hobble. Some sharp attorney had 
 taken under his protection, one of his numerous vic- 
 tims, and law and equity were together, hurling their 
 thunders on his now defenceless head. He knew that 
 Malone would in a few days be going to town to 
 attend Term, and that unless his anger was previously 
 deprecated, it would be idle to expect assistance from 
 him. To pay him, would be an abadonment of those 
 principles on which, through good report and evil 
 repon, he had acted for nigh half a century; and pay 
 him he would not— and yet, to get free of the dilemma 
 without doing so, was a puzzle. He, however, at last, 
 hit on the expedient which will be seen in the se- 
 quel. 
 
 The day for Malone's departure had arrived, and he 
 was already in his carriage driving out of his avenue 
 gate, when his progress was stopped by a fine herd of 
 cattle turning down in that direction. 
 
 ' Hollo, my man,' shouted the counsellor to the 
 herdsman — 'whose bullocks arc those 7' 
 
 ' Mr. Geohagan's, your honor," replied the fellow, 
 touching his hat, ' that is, they wor, sir, bnt he sint 
 them to your honor, wid his compliments, and this bit 
 of a note,' at the same time fumbling the misbapen 
 epistle from the recesses of his breeches pocket, and 
 hanJing it to the great man. 
 
 ' Hum — aye — unforeseen troubles — hope to be ex- 
 cused — request a continuation of my services — oh, very 
 well, my good man, all's right — present my compli- 
 ments to your master, and tell him I shall feel happy in 
 using my utmost exertions in his business — drive them 
 on, and deliver them to the herd — one, two, three — ten, 
 I believe are in it — 'pon my word, a very fine lot of 
 bullocks, and do great credit to the feeder, and you may 
 tell your master I said so — stay, there's half-a-crown 
 for you to drink my health, since I'll not be below 
 myself — drive on, John.' 
 
 Next vacation Malone returned home, full of com- 
 placent delight at the good news he had to tell his 
 generous client, for whom his splendid talents had pro- 
 cured an unequivocal victory. The morning after his 
 arrival, when taking his usual walk through his con- 
 cerns, he met his herd, and after receiving his congra- 
 tulations on his safe return, began making the natural 
 CDquiriet regarding his stock. 
 
 ' Fine weather you had while I was away, I 
 Thady ?' 
 
 ' Yis, indeed, 'twas delightful, your honor.' 
 ' Pon my word, I never knew it bo soft at this 
 time of year before. An old parliament gentleman 
 of my acquaintance, that was laid up in his bed- 
 room ever since winter, was able to go down all the 
 way to the cove of Cork last week, it was so very 
 mild.' 
 
 • Dth ! dth ! think o' that now.' 
 
 ' Yes, indeed ; and how is the grass coming on, 
 Thady f 
 
 ' I never seen the like, your honor ; if you'd only 
 jist step down an' look at it you'd see, yourself, 
 sure.' 
 
 ' You didn't find Mr. Geohagan's bullocks too 
 great an addition, I hope.' 
 
 ' Sir '— 
 
 ' Old Kedlah's bullocks ; those that he sent here 
 the day I went to Dublin ; 'pon my word, Thady, 
 they shamed you, they were so superior to any you 
 ever sent off my pastures.' 
 
 ' Och, he's a very judgmatical feeder, your honor, 
 but for all that I'd show my herd with his any day; 
 but, as to my bullocks, bedad, your honor, myself 
 doesn't rightly know what you're talking about, at 
 all, at all.' 
 
 ' AVhy, the bullocks he sent here the day 1 went 
 to Dublin, the ten fat bullocks by his own man, 
 Kelly, I think, is his name.' 
 
 ' Arrah, the deuce a bullock, beggin' your honor's 
 pardon, he ever sint here, the ould rogue ; they'd 
 bring the murrain or some miaugh among us, so 
 they would.' 
 
 < Old Kedagh tricked me, then !' shouted the 
 counsellor. 
 
 And so he did. The heard had been wait- 
 ing an hour at the head of the avenue to intercept 
 him, as we have related, and no sooner was the car- 
 riage out of sight by an angle of the road, than, ac- 
 cording to his master's directions, he turned the 
 bullocks' heads, and befoie evening they were 
 browsing quietly in their native pasture, whence 
 they had been called that morning to effect the de- 
 ception. 
 
 It was little wonder that Malone should be deep- 
 ly exasperated at the trick so humiliating to him 
 and successful to his outwitter, and just as little 
 that honest Kedagh should take credit to himself 
 for so neat a piece of chicanery ; it was, in fact, a 
 subject of merriment to him for a long time after, 
 until some dilemma, similar to that which gave rise 
 to the expedient we have related occurred, and 
 compelled him to try and make his peace with his 
 incensed advocate. The hopeless task was under- 
 taken in the same spirit that characterized his for- 
 mer proceedings. Kedagh took to his bed — was 
 ill, very ill, going to die in fact. It was not long 
 until an account of his illness reached Barnestown, 
 and fast on the heels of report followed a messenger 
 from the invalid requesting to see his dear friend 
 the counsellor. 
 
 ' Confound the rascal,' exclaimed Malone, ' his 
 impudence is insufferable ; what can he want with 
 me ?' 
 
 • Oh, your honor,' said the afflicted messenger, 
 ' he's stretched for death, an' won't die aisy if he 
 doesn't see you an' the priest.' 
 
 ' Well, now, for curiosity's sake,' said Malone, 
 ' I will go over and hear what he has to say. It 
 would be really a pity not to hear Kedagh repent- 
 ing.' 
 
 The counsellor arrived, and was shown into the 
 darkened room where poor Kedagh was waiting his 
 final call, 
 
 ' You wished to see me, Mr. Geohigan, I believe,' 
 said Malone, in the coldest tone of voice he could 
 assume. 
 
 ■ Counsellor, dear, is that you ?' whined the in- 
 yalid &om the middle of the bed in the^comer. 
 
 ' Upon my word, Mr. Gcohagan, you may well 
 ask the question with doubt, after the manner you 
 treated me and used my name.' 
 
 ' Oh, counsellor, dear, sure you wouldn't be rip- 
 ping up my old stories on a dying man. God for- 
 give me my sins, but I've a great deal to answer 
 for. Forget and forgive, avick ; thot was your fa- 
 ther's way, rest his soul. I knew him well, and 
 many and many's the time I saw him sitting in his 
 arm-chair, and stroking your head and saying, 
 ' Anthony, my boy, you'll never be your father's 
 if you desert your friend in distress. It's my will 
 I'd be taken of, avick. I'm afraid the boy's 'ill bo 
 quarrelling among one another about the money 
 when I am gone, and I want a will that will hinder 
 them, and who would I get to draw it but yourself, 
 the first lawyer in the three kingdoms, and more 
 betoken, my old friend's son ?' 
 
 'Keally, Mr. Geohagan, Imust try to be excused; 
 my interference with your affairs already — 
 
 ' Ah, now, avick machree, why would you be 
 talking about that, and cutting short a dying man's 
 breath. Let me tell you all first, and then, sure, if 
 you're for leaving I can't help you. I'm going, 
 counsellor dear — going quick — but I'd like to do 
 justice first, so just put in a legacy of £500 now to 
 my dear and valued friend, meaning yourself, avick, 
 and make it so it can't be broke now.' 
 
 ' Kedagh, my dear Kedagh, this is so good, so 
 generous, really I must forget and forgive now, 
 though to tell the truth, Kedagh, I was angry.' 
 
 ' Ah, Anthony, my darling, this is just like your 
 father, rest his soul, but indeed I was wrong.' 
 
 ' Kedagh — now — my dear friend — this generosi- 
 ty-' 
 
 ' Counsellor, dear, I always intended it.' 
 
 'My dear friend this is a melancholy duty, and 
 trust me that all my talents can do shall be done 
 for you to secure your little property.' 
 
 'Arah, Anthony, my darling, give me your hand ; 
 where are you avick ? I knew it was in your fa- 
 ther's son to be generous ; so now sit down coun- 
 sellor, dear, and let us to business, and don't forget 
 the five hundred.' 
 
 The will was drawn and approved, not forgetting 
 the five hundred ; and, Kedagh, after uttering a 
 profusion of thanks, for what Malone assured htm 
 was a will that all the lawyers in Ireland could not 
 break, requested it should be left with him to get 
 copied, after which, when completed, it should be 
 left with himself. 
 
 Malone, of course, acceded, and a day was ap- 
 pointed when he should return and receive the sa- 
 cred trust from the hands of the dying man. The 
 day came, and with it the punctual counsellor, who 
 was no little surprised to find Kedagh out of bed, 
 and much improved in personal appearance. 
 
 ' I am betther, avick,' said he, ' thank goodness 
 — a deal better and able to sit up ; but, sure, who 
 knows how long it will last with all the trouble I'm 
 in. Maybe now, counsellor, dear, you could ad- 
 vise me a bit ; here's the will, avick. Put it up in 
 your breast pocket now safe, for a deal depends on 
 that bit of parcel ; but I was thinking about the 
 law ; it's this way, aviek.' 
 
 And Kedagh proceeded with a long explanation 
 of all the ins and outs of his new troubles, and re- 
 ceived from his kind-hearted friend such assuran- 
 ces of assistance as completely satisfied him. From 
 this time forward, Kedagh became better and better 
 by beautiful gradations of convalescence, until, at 
 last, he was reported quite well to his disappointed 
 expectants. His cause was undertaken spiritedly 
 by Malone, and, it is needless to say, that it suc- 
 ceeded — the friendship of the counsellor became 
 now as conspicuous as the contrary feelings were 
 formerly, and excited the surprise of all who knew 
 both, which was still more heightened when Kedagh 
 was called to his people at last — by Malone's at- 
 tending his corpse to the graye as one of the chief 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 325 
 
 TIIB ABBEY OF QUIN, COUNTY CLARE. 
 
 mourners, and conducting all the affairs of the fune- 
 ral. No sooner was our poor hero safely deposited, 
 than Malone announced to the relatives that the 
 will was lodged with him, and collected all of them 
 in his parlor for the purpose of reading the impor- 
 tant instrument to them. 
 
 All preliminaries being arranged, the parties 
 seated, sentiments of condolence expressed on all 
 sides, and Kedagh's honesty and goodness boldly 
 asserted by every one, and a defiance hurled at all 
 gainsayers, the will was produced, acknowledged, 
 and handed to Mr. Matthews, Malone's clerk, for 
 perusal. He began, and according as he proceeded 
 and settled with each devisee or legatee, as the case 
 was, ' My poor father,' blubbered one of the fortu- 
 nates, and another, and another, in due succession, 
 as they ascertained their good luck, until the clerk's 
 voice could scarce be heard amid the general din. 
 Malone was, however, listening all the time with 
 that quiet sort of satisfaction which we feel when 
 we know that hope and certainty are to shake 
 hands, until the clerk had dispatched the sentence 
 immediately preceding his part of the will, and con- 
 tinued on, as it were, skipping the important sen- 
 tence. 
 
 'Now, now, Matthews, my good fellow,' said the 
 counsellor, interrupting him, * do not be so precipi- 
 tate, pray — go on — in such serious matters as these ; 
 it is very unbecoming to be so giddy — go on, if you 
 please — ' and to my dear and valued friend ' — go 
 on, pray — don't you see it ?' 
 
 ' Faith, sir,' said the puzzled clerk, looking over 
 the whole document, ' I don't see e'er a dear and 
 valued friend in it from top to bottom.' 
 
 ' Mr. Matthews, you are insufferably stupid, and 
 really this will not do at all. Give me the will, 
 sir,' and seizing it from the hands of the terrified 
 clerk, he looked over and over tt, but in vain ; the 
 titter could no longer be suppressed — it was too 
 bad. 
 
 ' Kedagh ! Kedagh ! you lived a rogue and you 
 died a rogue,' exclaimed the outwitted lawyer, and 
 bolted out of the room amid the ill-suppressed 
 laughter of the company. Kedagh, true to the last, 
 copied every line of the well-drawn instrument but 
 the part containing the legacy, and gained all his 
 ends, and theated a counsellor. 
 
 ADVANTAGES OF HISTORY. 
 
 'There is no study,' says Seneca, 'more amusing 
 in itself, or more instructive and improving the 
 mind than that of history. Works of fiction are the 
 gilded baubles that appear attractive ; but history 
 is the sterling gold that really possesses value.' 
 
 The apophthegm of the philosopher needs not 
 much argument to enforce it. We can, perhaps, in 
 no way form a more correct estimate of the great 
 worth of history than by supposing ourselves to be 
 at present without its aid, and thus we cannot but 
 see how narrow and contracted would be our con- 
 ceptions of things if our knowledge were not en- 
 larged by the history of other times, but was con- 
 fined merely to what we derived either from our 
 own experience, or from that of those immediately 
 preceding us. It is very problematical whether 
 civilization would have progressed with such rapid 
 strides as it has done, if each successive generation 
 were not illuminated by the light of history, and 
 though, perhaps, it would be too bold an assertion 
 positively to say, that but for it we would differ 
 little from our Saxon ancestors, yet it is quite cer- 
 tain that, even if we did differ, we would not be 
 able duly to appreciate our present condition, if we 
 had not the page of history to prove to us how 
 much the refinement of the present day is superior 
 to the barbarism of the Heptarchy. There is no 
 one to whom his country is more indebted than to 
 the faithful historian. Philosophers may raise her 
 in the world of science ; poets may draw upon her 
 general admiration, and warriors render her name 
 terrible among other nations ; but the excellence of 
 all these, in their several departments, would be 
 evanescent and transitory, or, at most, confined to 
 but a few generations, if they had not the page of 
 history to affix to them a perpetuity of fame. How 
 little of the general history of ancient Greece would 
 we be able to collect from the vorses of Homer or 
 Hcsiod ; while, on the other hand, how much more 
 do we appreciate even their beauties, when the mit 
 that hangs over those olden days is partially dis- 
 pelled by the light from the pages of Thucydides 
 and Xenophon. All the wondrous deeds of ancient 
 times, the exploits of an Alexander or a Hannibal, 
 of a Miltiades or a Leonidas.the glories of Marathon 
 and Thermopylae, would be unknown to us save in 
 the indistinct allusions of the poets and the orators, 
 
 if it were not for the page of history. To the states- 
 man no study is more pre-eminently useful ; it may, 
 indeed, be styled the grand emporium of political 
 wisdom ; by it the experience of the parts is con- 
 centrated into one mass, and made the exigencies of 
 the present, and thus the result and working of 
 measures, which otherwise would be but speccula- 
 tively conjectural, is foreseen with almost the cer- 
 tainty of mathematical demonstrations. By his- 
 tory, a new element is added to our being ; we be- 
 come creatures not only of the present but also of 
 the past, and, in many cases, of the future. It is 
 history which expands and enlarges our views ; it 
 gives to our minds that arm, discursive, ubiquitous 
 power by which they are not confined to a particu- 
 lar locality, but become denizens of other countries. 
 By history, the circle of our existence and of our 
 social affections is enlarged. With it, we feel the 
 general bond of union between us and our fellow 
 creatures of all ages. Maintained without it, the 
 connecting link would be broken, and we would be 
 mere isolated creatures in a world that had no pe- 
 culiar associations, but those of animal instinct to 
 attach us to it. 
 
 QUIN ABBEY. 
 
 Quin, called Quint or Quinchy, is situated in the 
 barony of Bunratty, about five miles east of Ennis. 
 An abbey was founded here at an early period, 
 which was consumed by fire, A. D. 1278. 
 
 In 1402, Mac Cam Dall Macnamara, Lord of 
 Glancoilean, erected the present monastery, being a 
 beautiful strong building of bla k marble ; his tomb 
 is still remaining. This monastery, with all the 
 manors, advowsons, &c., of Daveunwail, Ichanee, 
 Downagour, and divers others, with the site of all 
 the hereditaments thereof, was granted to Sir Tur- 
 lough O'Brien, of Innishdyman (Innistymon) in fee, 
 December 14, 15S3. 
 
 The monastery was repaired in 1604. Bishop 
 Pococke thus describes its present state : ' Quin ig 
 one of the finest and most entire monasteries that I 
 have seen in Ireland; it is situated on a fine stream, 
 with an ascent of several steps to the church ; at 
 the entrance one is surprised with the view of the 
 high altar entire, and of an altar on each side of the 
 arch of the chancel. To the south is a chapel with 
 three or four altars in it, and a very Gothic figure in 
 relation of some saint ; on the north side of the 
 chancel is a fine monument of the family of the Mac- 
 namaras of Kance, erected by the founder ; on a 
 stone by the high altar the name of Kennedye ap- 
 pears in large letters ; in the middle, between the 
 body and the chancel, is a fine tower built on the 
 gable ends. The cloister is in the usual form, with 
 couplets of pillars, but is particular in having but- 
 tresses round it by way of ornament ; there are ap- 
 partments on three sides of it, the refectory, the 
 dormitory, and another grand room to the north of 
 the chancel, with a vaulted room under them all ; 
 to the north of the large room is a closet, which leads 
 through a private way to a very strong round tower, 
 the walls of which are near ten feet thick. In the 
 front of the monastery is a building, which seems to 
 have been an apartment for strangers, and to the 
 south-west are two other buildings.' 
 
 Button, in his statistical survey of the county of 
 Clare, published in 1808, observes that it remains 
 nearly in the same state as when the bishop wrote, 
 but greatly disfigured by the custom of bijrying 
 within the walls of churches. The south end, , 
 built by one of the family of Macnamara, ia 
 much superior in neatness of workmanship to the 
 adjoining parts. There are the remains of a curious 
 representation of a crucifi.x in stucco on the wall 
 near the high altar, that have escaped, I believe, the 
 observation of all travellers. 
 
 Refrain from bitter words; there is only the dif- 
 fercnce of a letter between words and awordi. 
 
326 
 
 IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 THE CONVOY. 
 
 W'e had been detained in Kingston harbor for sev- 
 eral days, waiting the departure of an English con- 
 voy ; the day of sailing had at length arrived, and 
 wc were wafted gracefully to sea by the trade wind, 
 which blew fresh and favorable, and promised, with 
 its continuance, a speedy arrival to the I'nited 
 States. The fleet was composed of at least forty 
 sail vessel of all nations, who had, like us, sought 
 the convoy's protection from the many piratical 
 crnisers which at that time infested the shores of 
 the West India islands. There might have been 
 seen the clumsy Hollander, and the more fragile 
 vessel of Spain, the large unwieldy barque of Kus- 
 eia and the light felucca of the Mediterranean, the 
 ctrong and handsome Englishman, and the be: uti- 
 ful fast sailing trader of the United States, the high 
 black lugger of lirccmen, and the long low cruiser 
 of Portugal, all with their canvass set, gracefully 
 ploughing the green waves of the .\tlantic. I had 
 embarked in an American ship, bound for the port 
 of Baltimore, a truly noble vessel, and I felt a secret 
 pride thrill in my veins as I cast my eyes along the 
 tapering spars, suffering them to rest upon the well- 
 trimmed head rigging and bellying topsail ; there 
 was not brace, stay, or haulynrd but was drawn 
 taught to its respective place, and the light foot- 
 ropes hung in graceful curves from the numerous 
 yards in beautiful contrast with the running and 
 stationary rigging. On deck everything presented 
 as neat an appearance as aloft ; the guns were new- 
 ly painted and bound to their places with widely 
 plaited, breeching, the deck had been cleared of 
 every fibre of useless stuff, and the running rigging 
 hung from the elects and belaying pins in beautiful 
 coils. 'When 1 had finished my survey of her ap- 
 pearance, I turned almost involuntarily towards the 
 stern, and suffered my gaze to fall upon the Star 
 Spangled Banner, which rolled in graceful folds 
 from the main gaif — the guardian of all this beauty 
 — the protection of all this elegance. 
 
 Our captain was a large and finely moulded man, 
 but the most distant and tacit being I had ever en- 
 countered ; he would stand for hours leaning over 
 the taffrail and gazing in the blue deep of the ocean, 
 as if he could read therein some darkly facinating 
 page of futurity ; his eyes were grey and deeply 
 sunken, yet they flowed with an almost unnatural 
 lustre, and seemed to search and be satisfied of your 
 most secret thought with a glance ; to a superficial 
 observer he appeared a being illy calculated to gain 
 the affections of mankind, yet every one on board 
 loved him, and appeared to take pleasure in exe- 
 cuting his msndates ; there was something so singu- 
 larly and impressively interesting in the expression 
 of his countenance, something so stern, so noble, 
 and so decisive, that I felt, as I gazed upon him, 
 that his like I should never behold again. As my 
 eyes fell from the banner of my country they en- 
 countered his; he had been observing me for some- 
 time, and I felt that his penetrating glances was 
 niostcr of my feelings. 
 
 ' American," said he, advancing, ' those hands 
 were the first that ever raised your proud banner to 
 a gaff; I fought, bled and conquered under your 
 s'ars and stripes, and while the arm that reared it 
 is left me it shall never be lowered in submission to 
 created man,' 
 
 I could make no answer to his speech, but 1 
 grasped his hand with a pressure which indicated 
 more than words could express. 
 
 After a moment's pause, he looked around to ob- 
 nerve that none were within bearing, and again re- 
 sumed — 
 
 ' Yes, stranger, I once shot a man dead for laying 
 his hands upon the haulyards with the inieniion of 
 striking that proud banner to a foeman.' 
 
 A fierce though animated light for a moment il- 
 luminated his expressive eye, and, then, turning 
 abruptly away, he strode to a distant part of the 
 
 quarter-deck, with a manner which seemed to for- 
 bid further intercourse ; this singular man made a 
 deep impression upon me ; I resolved to study him 
 well during the voyage. 
 
 There was a general movement among the ship's 
 company, and the eyes of all on board were turned 
 towards the squadron, and then inquiringly on the 
 captain, as if to hear and obey his commands. His 
 Britanic majesty's ship Hyperion had overhauled 
 the squadron, and informed them, by signals, the 
 Duke of Clarence, afterwards Willinm the IV., 
 King of England, was on board. 
 
 In a few minutes the peak of every vessel in the 
 fleet, save ours, was lowered, and for a while noth- 
 ing was heard on the water but the cracking of 
 sheaves as the haulyards sped swiftly through the 
 blocks ; peak after peak fell in honor of the royal 
 passenger, but the gaff of our vessel was motion- 
 less, while all around had submissively fallen. 
 AVhen I learned the cause of this movement I turn- 
 ed towards the captain, and never shall I forget the 
 ghastly smile that at that moment played around 
 liis lips. 
 
 ' Eools,' mittered he, 'minions to do homage to 
 the boy whose father's foot is on their neck ! By 
 heavens ! I'd suffer death before my peak should 
 bow to their effeminate pup of the purple,' and he 
 east his eyes jealously along the spotless canvass. 
 
 ' John Bull seldom allows such disrespect as this 
 to go unpunished,' whispered Bob Barnacle ; ' see, 
 they are lowering the yawl from the davits for the 
 purpose of boarding us, and if the judgment of an 
 old seaman don't deceive him, we shall have some 
 heaving of iron before this squall blows over.' 
 
 'I hope nothing serious may accrue to us,' 
 said I. 
 
 The naval veteran shook his head importantly as 
 he answered, ' the captain is like a Dutch lugger 
 in a blow.' 
 
 As the veteran concluded, he moved away, leav- 
 ing me to conjecture the meaning of his mysterious 
 sentence. Again I turned my attention to the 
 commander; for a moment he regarded the yan-l as 
 it left the ship's side, and then folding his arms, he 
 continued to pace the quarter deck until its arrival. 
 Our independent bearing had been perceived by the 
 whole squadron, and tli"; eyes of men, of more than 
 one nation, were turned upon us with jealous curi- 
 osity, and a thrill of national pride traversed my 
 veins as I contemplated the proud sense of freedom 
 we had so nobly displayed; yet we had committed 
 a daring if not a rash action, and there was no al- 
 ternative but to follow it up manfully, o^ disgrace 
 the proud pennons that floated over us, lii presence 
 of the citizens of almost all the christian nations of 
 Europe. The dark man who paraded the quarter 
 was the sole being upon whom was rested the re- 
 sponsibility of our country's honor ; his command 
 might exalt us in the eyes of many a jealous rival, 
 or, on the other hand, it might render us an object 
 of contempt and ridicule; but, at that moment, I 
 felt a certainty of conviction, that our commander 
 would honorably finish the work he had so nobly 
 begun. The English yawl had now arrived, and a 
 young midshipman, arrayed in all the naval finery 
 of his Jnation, ascended the ship's side, and spran" 
 upon the deck. 
 
 ' Arc your peak haulyards checked, or has your 
 mizen-down hauls given away, that you refuse to 
 drop your gafl" to his grace, the Dukc of Clarence r' 
 asked he, as he gazed severally on those around to 
 discover the commander. 
 
 ' Xeithcr, young man,' was the calm reply of our 
 captain. 
 
 • Then why have you dared to insult the flag of 
 Great Britain on the high seas-' demanded the 
 youth with an impertinent and cocknied air. 'Are 
 you not fearful that we will inflict the chastise- 
 you richly deserve :' 
 
 A spark of anger flashed in the eyee of our com- 
 
 mandant, but it instantly passed away, and he 
 calmly replied — 
 
 'No, boy, I am not fearful of receiving punish- 
 ment at your hands, nor shall ray peak or banner 
 ever be lowered to the cross of England while I have 
 life to lose it in defence.' 
 
 ' By St. George, sir rebel, you speak tauntingly 
 of my country's prowess,' exclaimed the midship- 
 man; ' more such language as that mi({ht tempt us 
 to tear that rag of thine from the gaff and trample 
 it beneath our feet.' 
 
 At this disgraceful allusion to our flag the lips of 
 our commander quivered with concealed rage, and 
 turning to one of the sturdy seamen that lined the 
 deck, he vocicferated, ' Barnacle, throw that man 
 overboard.' 
 
 'Ay, ay, sir,' exclaimed the veteran, and, seizing 
 the slight form of the midshipman, he hoisted him 
 over the gunwale.and plunged him into the sea be- 
 neath. 
 
 A roar of laughter ensued amongst the friends of 
 Neptune, and even the British seamen were observ- 
 ed to chuckle with smothered delight, as they drew 
 him dripping from the briny element, and shoved 
 off to return. 
 
 When the yawl which contained the exasperated 
 midshipman had arrived at the side of the British 
 vessel, a general stir was observed on her decks ; 
 her long black yards were swung round, and her 
 bow wore to windward in a straight line with our 
 vessel, and it was evident by tljeir movements thot 
 it was their intent to run us down and pour in a 
 broadside. Studding-sails, spankers, and stay-sails 
 were spreading in all parts of her wide extended 
 rigging, and in a few minutes every boom, mast 
 and stay was closed in its respective robe of flow- 
 ing canvass, yet, for near an hour, during which 
 she had gained rapidly upon us, we continued our 
 course without adding a sail to those with which we 
 had cleared the harbor. 
 
 Our commander, who had hitherto stood silently 
 regarding the advancing vessel, turned to the sea- 
 men with the usual premonitory command of ' si- 
 lence." In an instant, the murmured hum which 
 arose from the ship's deck was hushed, and then 
 each ear sharpened to catch the following order: — 
 
 ' Clear away the long Tom.' 
 
 'Ay, ay, sir," shouted a dozen of the seamen, and 
 in a few moments the gun was prepared for discharg- 
 ing, and the men stood waiting his further orders. 
 
 By this time the advancing ship had approached 
 so near that her bob-stays and lanyards were seen 
 distinctly relieved from the dark ar,d massive hull ; 
 men were observed clambering the shrouds, crowding 
 forward, and stationing themselves in the starboard 
 chains for the purpose of viewing and admiring the 
 saucy Yankee, who evinced no disposition either to 
 run away or come to close quarters. Still she swept 
 onwards, and in a few minutes the letters of her 
 name grew legibly detatched from the forneiting, 
 and the swelling notes of ' Rule Britainia ' rose 
 upon our hearing ; yet our commander stood mo- 
 tionless, attentively surveying the noble Briton as 
 she swiftly advanced, dashing proudly aside the 
 white spray that gathered around her bow ; not a 
 word was spoken on board of our ship, and every 
 eye was bent on the Englishman withabsorbmg in- 
 terest ; it was the most cxcitiHg moment of my life ; 
 I fairly held my breath with thrilling, indescribable 
 feeling that was awakened in my mind. 
 
 ' Stand by the weather-braces." shouted our com- 
 mander, and the ropes were disengaged from their 
 respective elects. 
 
 Again an interval of silence succeeded as the cap- 
 tain again turned his gaze on the ship in chase. 
 ' Wear ship, shouted he at the top of his voice, and 
 the long yards of our vessel were swung around 
 until her bow veered gracefully to windward ; this 
 manoeuvre was scarcely executed, when a volley of 
 smoke issued from the bows of the ship in chase. 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 327 
 
 and the loud report of a cannon rang upon the 
 breeze ; in an instani every eje was thrown aloft to 
 discover if their fire had proved cilectual, but uU 
 above remained untouched ; the ball had passed us 
 harmlessly by. 
 
 ' Keep her at that,' exclaimed our commander to 
 the man at the wheel, as our topsails were thrown 
 aback and the vessel lay motionless in the wind's 
 eye; then glancing his eye along the gun he pointed 
 it to suit his aim ; the priming was fired, and the 
 roar of our cannon reverbated on the ears with its 
 wanton stunning effect. 
 
 ' Huzza !' shouted our seamen, as the mizen-top 
 of the Briton flew in splinters, and the top, top- 
 gallant and royal mast fell over the stern, dragging 
 along with it the proud banner of England. 
 
 For a moment I stood regarding the lame vessel 
 with a glow of delight which can better be imagin- 
 ed than described. National pride, and the e.xcit- 
 ing thrill of triumph swept through my veins, and 
 1 felt that I could not breath other than as an 
 American. I turned towards the commander ; he 
 Btili gazed at the vessel astern, while his eye was 
 lighted with a fierce triumph, and his lip curled 
 with a grim though not unpleasing smile. 
 
 ' Thus,' said he, addressing me, ' shall Paul 
 Jones ever do homage to the penons of British ty- 
 ranny and oppression.' Then, sufferring the excite- 
 ment of his countenance to vanish, he gave the loud 
 command of 'Fill away !' 
 
 Our vessel then swung round on her course, the 
 sails were again filled, and again she bounded for- 
 ward through the green waters of the Atlantic. 
 • Set the studding sails and crowd all sail,' exclaim- 
 ed the commandant." 
 
 The light booms were speedily run out from the 
 extremity of the yards, and in a few hours our an- 
 tagonist and those of the ships of the squadron 
 ■were lost in the rotundity of the ocean. 
 
 LTransIated from the French.] 
 THE EXECUTION OF A BANDIT. 
 
 The morning of the day fixed for the execution of 
 Guiseppe and his party dawned dark and gloomy ; 
 black heavy masses of clouds hung about the sun, 
 and almost intercepted his light ; the rain had fallen 
 during the night in torrents, and had now settled 
 into a thick and dingy haze, which almost resem- 
 bled a palpable veil of darkness spread over the 
 earth ; a light wind swept fitfully along-, iiid hurried 
 with it the autumnal leaves that lay strewn around. 
 The prison in which Guiseppe was confined was a 
 square building with turrets rising at each angle ; 
 the windows were small and strongly secured, both 
 inside and outside, with iron bars ; the gallows was 
 in front as in our modern prisons, and the ropes 
 hung down and were drifted about by the wind, as 
 if waiting for their prey ; before the front entrance, 
 two sentinels paced with a slow and measured 
 step. 
 
 ' I can't think,' said one of them, ' what the mis- 
 chief that woman can want that has been hanging 
 abrut this place ever since nightfall ; once or twice 
 I had a mind to level my musket at her.' 
 
 ' Oh,' replied the other, ' some poor creature who 
 has never seen an execution, and doesn't like to let 
 so fine an opportunity pass, or it may be, as she 
 seems to be in tears, some relative of the prisoners, 
 maybe one of their wives ; but see, she approaches; 
 I'll ask her her business.' 
 
 It was Julictt ; her face was tinged with a death- 
 like paleness ; the tears chased each other down her 
 wan and care-worn features ; she at once intimated 
 to the sentinel that she was the wife of Guiseppe, 
 and that she hoped to be admitted to see him for the 
 last time. 
 
 It was now near the hour appointed for the exe- 
 cution ; crowds of people were beginning to assem- 
 ble; the soldiers were drawn up before the prison, it 
 was apprehended that a rescue would have been 
 
 attempted, there were nine in the gang besides their 
 leader Guiseppe; it was settled that the nine should 
 be first executed, and that Guiseppe should remain 
 till last, as if to add to his torments by obliging 
 him to witness the suil'crings of his companions ; 
 accordingly,thcy were brought forward closely pin- 
 ioned, and still retaining their dogged fierceness of 
 look. Things were soon arranged, and without 
 much struggling their spirits passed into eternity. 
 
 Guiseppe now alone remained ; more anxiety was 
 manifested by the crowd ; all were anxious to gat 
 a sight of the man whose name had so often struck 
 terror to their hearts ; he came forward, slowly and 
 fearlessly. Juliett hung about his neck. She was 
 the only object that seemed to afiect him. Soon as 
 he appeared, there was a half suppressed murmur 
 of horror among the crowd ; he gazed around him 
 with a scoul of the most fiendish malignity ; his 
 countenance had assumed an unearthly ferocity, as 
 if hurling defiance at all around him. 
 
 ' Juliet,' said he, with a slight tremor in his voice, 
 ' farewell ; mine has began a life of guilt, fearful, 
 horrible guilt; these hands are stained with 
 the blood of hundreds ; 'tis now too late to repent ; 
 a few moments and my soul shall be burning in a 
 lake of fire ; I am too deeply dyed in sin to expect 
 mercy ; but, Juliett (here a tear stood for a mo- 
 ment in his eye, but instantly disappeared, as if 
 frightened back by his iron visase), little thought I 
 that such would be my disgraceful end. I had de- 
 termined to change my course of life, but death has 
 overtaken me. Farewell, Juliett, we never meet 
 again. And now,' said he, turning to the soldiers, 
 and assuming his wonted fierceness, ' dogs,lead on, 
 1 fear you not ; I am too familiar with death to 
 dread him now. Oh, if I had a hundred of you in 
 the open plain with but half the number of my 
 faithful band, I'd soon make the earth red with your 
 blood ; bind me close, I'll soon be free from your 
 grasp; you cannot follow me where I am going." 
 
 All was now arranged, he fell, he struggled des- 
 perately for a few moments, as if grappling witb death 
 himself, his limbs gradually relaxed, there was one 
 convulsive start, and all was still. At this moment a 
 horseman was seen urging on at his utmost speed. 
 Pardon, pardon, was shouted through the crowd. In- 
 stantly the body was cut down ; but it was too late, 
 the spirit of Guisseppe was gone; there remained noth- 
 ing but a lump of lifeless clay. 
 
 gentleman was at the end of the passage, his foot- 
 ing failed, and he slipped down a trap door. Ho 
 observed, through an ill-jointed partition, between 
 him and a cellar, thot he was in the power of several 
 men, who were deliberating whether they should 
 kill him. He also learned, by their conversation, 
 they were coiners. Ho raised his voice and desired 
 leave to speak to them. This was granted. 'Gentle- 
 men,' said he, ' my coming hither shows my want 
 of good sense and discretion, but must convince you 
 that I am a man of honor, for a scoundrel is gener- 
 ally a coward; I promise upon honor, all secrecy 
 respecting this adventure. Avoid murdering one 
 that never intended to hurt you. Consider the 
 consequences of putting me to death; I have upon 
 me dispatches, which I am to deliver into the King 
 of France's hands; four of my servants are now in 
 the neighboring hamlet. Depend upon it such strict 
 search will be made to ascertain my fate, that it must 
 be discovered.' 
 
 The coiners resolved to take his^word; and they 
 swore him, to tell frightful stories about his adven- 
 tures in the minor. He said, the next day, that 
 he had seen enough to frighten a man to death; no 
 one could doubt of the truth, when the fact was 
 warranted by one of his character. 
 
 This was continued for twelve years. After that 
 period, when the gentleman was at his country seat 
 with some friends, he was informed that a man with 
 two horses that he led waited on the bridge, and de- 
 sired to speak to him, that he could not be persuaded 
 to come nearer. When the gentleman appeared, ac- 
 companied by his friends, the stranger called out, 
 'Stop, sir, I have but a word with you ; those to whom 
 you promised twelve years ago not to publish what 
 you knew regarding them, are obliged to you for the 
 observance of the secret, and now discharge jou from 
 your promise. They have got a competency, and are 
 no longer in the kingdom ; but before they would al- 
 low me to follow them, they engaged me to beg your 
 acceptance of two horses, and here I leave them.' The 
 man, who had tied two horses to a tree, setting spurs 
 to his horse, went off so rapidly that they instantly lost 
 sight of him. Then the hero of the story related to 
 his friends what had happened to him. 
 
 EXTRAORDINARY ADVENTURE. 
 
 Louis the Fifteenth despatched into Germany a 
 confidential person on a mission of importance; on 
 this gentleman returning post, with four servants, 
 night surprised him in a poor hamlet, where there I next week 
 was not even an ale house. He asked could he 
 lodge at the manor one night, and answered that it 
 had been forsaken some time; that ordy a farmer 
 was there by day-light, whose house stood apart 
 from the manor which was haunted by spirits that 
 came again and beat people. Thetraveller said that 
 he was not afraid of spirits, and to show that he 
 was not, his attendants should remain in the ham- 
 let, and that he would go alone to the manor-house, 
 where he would be a match for any spirits that 
 visited there— that he had heard much of the de- 
 parted coming again, and he had long had curiosity 
 to see some of them. 
 
 He established- himself at the manor-house— had 
 a good tire lighted— and as he did not intend going 
 to bed, had pipes and tobacco brought, with wino; 
 he also laid on the table two brace of loaded pistols. 
 About midnight he heard a dreadful rattling of 
 chains, and saw a man of large stature, who beck- 
 oned, and made a sign for his coming to him. The 
 gentleman placed two pistols in his belt, put the 
 third in his pocket, and took the fourth in one 
 hand, and the candle in the other. He then fol- 
 lowed the phantom, who going down the stairs, 
 crossed the court into a passage. But when the 
 
 A Cunning Cobbler. — A knight of the awl had 
 promised three customers a pair of boots by a cer- 
 tain time ; he had just stock and time enough to 
 make one pair. When the time arrived, one came 
 in and was told his boots were almost ready, he 
 might try one. 
 
 Says he, 'This is three sizes to large.' 
 ' How unlucky ; it was the best skin in my whole 
 lot ; however, I will make another pair for you 
 
 He had but just got out, when in came a second, 
 depending upon his boots to go a courting nest 
 night. 
 
 ' I am just treeing your last boot. I worked 
 nearly all night to be sure and not disappoint you ; 
 here, try that one on.' 
 
 'This boot ain't big enough; I swan, I can't 
 get it near my foot ; how disappointed I am. I 
 promised to carry Jane down to Uncle Joe's to- 
 morrow, and now I ha'nt got a boot to my foot." 
 
 ' Well, you are not more disappointed than I am. 
 I am desperate sorry they do not fit. I don't see 
 how I made such a mistake.' 
 
 Jonathan went ofl' rather grouty, and in came the 
 third, an ai.imal called a dandy. 
 
 ' Well, sir, I trust my boots are ready at the ap-. 
 pointed time.' 
 
 ' Certainly, sir.' i 
 
 He handed them. The dandy stood aghast. ' I 
 protest, sir, 1 hope you do not intend to insult me ; 
 these boots for me, tir ? why they are big enough 
 for tlic foot of a clown. I could really, sir, intro- 
 duce both my feet into one ; you need not trouble 
 yourself further, sir; I shall buy me a pair at the 
 fashionable boot and shoe store.' 
 
 As soon as he was oft', Crispin very deliberately 
 kicked olf his old shoes, and says, • Who knows, 
 but they suit me after all ?' He pulled one on ; ic 
 fitted as slick as a glove. 
 
328 
 
 IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 LYNCH'S HOUSE, CALWAV. 
 
 James Lynch Fitz- Stephen, an opulent merchant, | 
 ■was mayor of Gahvay in 1493. H^ had made several I 
 voyages to Spain, as a considerable intercourse was ^ 
 then kept up between that country and the western I 
 coast of Ireland. When returning from his last 
 visit he brought with him the son of a respectable 
 merchant, named Gomez, whose hospitality he had 
 largely experienced, and who was now received by 
 his family with all that warmth of affection which 
 from the earliest period has characterized the 
 natives of Ireland. Young Gomez soon became the 
 intimate associate of Walter Lynch, the only son of 
 the mayor, a youth in his twenty-first year, and 
 who possessed qualities of mind and body which 
 rendered him an object of general admiration; but 
 in these was unhappily united a disposition to 
 libertinism, which was a source of the greatest 
 affliction to his father. The worthy magistrate, 
 however, was now led to entertain hopes of a favor- 
 able change in his son's character, as he was en- 
 gaged in paying honorable addresses to a beautiful 
 young lady of good family and fortune. Prepara- 
 tory to the nuptials, the mayor gave a splendid en- 
 tertainment, at which >young Lynch fancied his 
 intended bride viewed his Spanish friend with too 
 much regard. The fire of jealousy was instantly 
 lighted up in his distempered brain, and at their 
 next interview he accused his beloved Agnes of un- 
 faithfnlness to him. Irritated at its injustice, the 
 offended fair one disdained to deny the charge, and 
 the lovers parted in anger. 
 
 On the following night, while Walter Lynch 
 slowly passed the residence of his Agnes, he 
 observed young Gomez to leave the house, as he had 
 been invited by her father to spend that evening 
 with him. .Ml his suspicions now received the 
 most dreadful confirmation, and in maddened fury 
 he rushed on his unsuspecting friend, who, alarmed 
 by a voice which the frantic rage of his pursuer 
 prevented him from recognizing, fled towards a 
 solitary quarter of the town near the shore. Lynch 
 maintained the fell pursuit till his victim had 
 nearly reached the water's edge, when he overtook 
 
 LYNCH'S HOUSE, GALWAY. 
 
 him, darted a poniard into his heart, and plunged 
 his body, bleeding, into the sea, which, during the 
 night, threw it back again upon the shore, whore 
 it was found and recognized on the following morn- 
 ing. 
 
 The wretched murderer, after contemplating for 
 a moment the deed of horror which he had perpe- 
 trated, sought to hide himself in the recessess of an 
 adjoining wood, where he passed the night a prey 
 to all those conflicting feelings which the loss of 
 that happiness he had so ardently expected, and a 
 sense of guilt of the deepest dye, could inflict. lie 
 at length found some degree of consolation in the 
 firm resolution of surrendering himself to the law, 
 as the only means now left to him of expiating the 
 dreadful crime which he had committed against 
 society. With this determination he bent his steps 
 towards the town nt the earliest dawn of the follow- 
 ing morning; but he had scarcely reached its pre- 
 cincts, when he met a crowd approaching, amongst 
 whom, with shame and terror, he observed his 
 father on horseback, attended by several officers of 
 justice. At present, the venerable magistiate had 
 no suspicion that his only son was the assassin of 
 his friend and guest; but when young Lynch pro- 
 claimed himself the murderer, a conflict of feeling 
 seized the wretched father beyond the power of 
 language to describe; but finally ordered the guard 
 to secure him. 
 ! In a few days the trial of Walter Lynch took 
 I place, and in a provincial town of Ireland, contain- 
 I ing at that period not more than three thousand in- 
 habitants, a father was beheld sitting in judgment, 
 like another lirutus, on his only son; and, like him, 
 condemning that son to die, as a sacrifice to public 
 justice. 
 
 The morning of the day of execution had scarcely 
 broken when the signal of preparation was heard 
 I among the guards without. The father rose, and 
 assisted the executioner to remove the fetters which 
 \ bound his unfortunate son. Then unlocking the 
 I door, he placed him between the priest and himself, 
 I leaning upon an arm of each. In this manner they 
 i ascended a flight of steps, lined with soldiers, and 
 
 were passing on to gain the street, when a new trial 
 assailed the magistrate, for which he appears not to 
 have been prepartd. His wretched wife, whose 
 name was Blake, failing in her personal exertions 
 to save the life of her son, had gone in distraction 
 to the heads of her own family, and prevailed on 
 them, for the honor of their house, to rescue him 
 from ignomy. They flew to arms, and a prodigious 
 concourse soon assembled to support them, which 
 our cut represents, whose outcries for mercy to the 
 culprit would have shaken any nerves less firm than 
 those of the mayor of Galway. He exhorted them 
 to yield submission to the laws of the country ; 
 but finding his efforts fruitless to accomplish the 
 ends of justice at the accustomed place and by the 
 usual hands, he, by a desperate victory over paren- 
 tal feeling, resolved himself to perform the sacrifice 
 which he had vowed to pay on its altar. Still re- 
 taining a hold of his unfortunate son, he mounted 
 with him by a winding stair within the building, 
 that led to an arched window overlooking the street, 
 which he saw filled with the populace. Here he 
 secured the end of the rope which had been pre- 
 viously fixed around the neck of his son, to an iron, 
 staple, which projected from the wall, and, after 
 taking from him a last embrace, he launched him 
 into eternity. 
 
 The intrepid magistrate expected instant death 
 from the fury of the populace, but the people seemed 
 so much overawed or confounded by the magnani- 
 mous act, that they retired slowly and peaceably to 
 their several dwellings. 
 
 The innocent cause of this sad tragedy is said to 
 have died soon after of grief, and the unhappy father 
 of Walter Lynch to have secluded himself during 
 the remainder of his life from all society, except 
 that of his mourning family. His house still exists 
 in Lombard street, Galway, which is yet known by 
 the name of ' Dead Man's Lane,' and over the front 
 doorway are to be seen a skull and cross bones 
 executed in black marble, with the motto' ' Ke- 
 member deathe, vaniti of vaniti, and all is but 
 vaniti. 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 329 
 
 ETO CORRESPONDENTS. I 
 
 O* Our CoRRKoroiTDKNTO ahould forwRrd ooramuulca- 
 tioBS iuteudcd for insertion in the Mlardlany uot later than 
 the Saturday before the day of publication, ds our increas- 
 ing circulation compela us to go to press every Monday 
 morning; and should be addressed— ' Editors of the Irish 
 Miscellany, Boston, Mass.* Subscnbors should mention the 
 township, county and State in which they reside. 
 
 O* We cannot raturn any manuscript sent us for publica- 
 tion. 
 
 *CuiTio.'— You are right. It is perfectly ridiculous to com- 
 pare Barney Williams to Tyrone Tower, Collins, Leonard, 
 Brougham, or even Hudson, and if live hundred pen- 
 sioners like Carletou praised him, it makes no diiference, 
 and only lowers them in our estimation. The only good 
 acting Barney Williams ever done was when he refused 
 to be drawn by the ignorant dupes who would not only 
 make horses but asses of themselves. 
 ' James Kodoeks,' Manchester.— St. Sweetum, or Swithin, 
 was Bishop of Winchester, England, and through humi- 
 lity wished to be buried in one of the walks at the entrance 
 of the churchyard, that he might be walked on; but the 
 people, who sincerely venerated him, attempted to dig up 
 his remains, and upon commencing the work, rain des- 
 cended for the forty days called * Sweeten days,' and be- 
 lieving it displeased the saint, they finally abandoned it. 
 
 * Ward Seven.' — Tou mistake or do not know usj friend. 
 
 We would not nse a weapon the foe did not possess. 
 Type came not into our hands to defend our character 
 from slander; to all who know us, we think no vindica- 
 tion necessary ; to those who do not, and require the truth, 
 we reler them to his honor Mayor Lincoln. The greater 
 the lie the easier to live it down. 
 
 ' James Sullivan,' New Haven, Conn. — Many friends ask 
 us to reprint the 'Recollections of Youghal,' which we 
 shall do in our next volume. They were originally writ- 
 ten for the Irish American, but we shall publish them in 
 a more extended I'orm. 
 
 ' Ardmorb,' St. Declan. — We will have something to say 
 by and bye. He died 527. 
 
 ' James Walsu,' Lawrence.— Franklin Fierce was nomi- 
 nated at the National Convention of the Democratic par- 
 ty which met at Batimore in June, 1852. 
 
 '4- McHuoH,' Lowell. — The papers will in future be sent 
 under wrapper to the Tost Oflice, and each subscriber will 
 find his paper there. 
 
 ' J. QuiNLAN,' Portland, Conn —Send the numbers of those 
 you wAnt, and they will be sent. The other matter is all 
 right. 
 
 *Tbe Old Church of Slake' will appear. The other 
 matter will be considered. 
 
 ' L. McGrath,' Randolph. — We have written to East 
 Stoughton. 
 
 * James Pope,' Randolph. — The name was wrong. 
 
 * Fitzgerald,' Lowell.— Received, and will be attended to. 
 
 IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 TUOM.IS O NEILL .... PUBLISHER AND PROPRIETOR. 
 
 BOSTON, SATtTRDAY, JANUARY 1, 1859. 
 
 CAN IRELAND EVER BECOME A CONTENTED 
 PROVINCE OF THE BRITISH EMPIRE' 
 
 The CcUic and the Saxun characters are such that 
 it seems no less thaij ab-urd to expect fair justice to 
 the Irish from the British, or a contented endurance of 
 any less than the full measure from the Irish. The 
 En(;lish nation is notoriously selfish, haughty in Its 
 bearing towards acknowledged friends, and cruelly piti- 
 less to agonizi d humaniiy when writhing in the talons 
 of its Tulturelike power, though craven and truckling 
 when OTermaiched in a foe, until by craft and strata- 
 gem its antagonist is circumvented, defeated and de- 
 stroyed. 
 
 Truly, the monarch of the cat kind is the fit emblem 
 ot English power, existing by slaughter, gloating over 
 blood, battering on the destruction of innocence, and 
 stalking haughtily along, enjoying the surrounding 
 desolation accompanying its terrific march, yet ever 
 meanly crouching in presence of a formidable foe, and, 
 depending on the stratagem, spring to surprise its vic- 
 tim. 
 
 The Irish national character seems the very reverse 
 of the picture, proverbially generous, undeniably brave. 
 Noted for fidelity, and, perhaps, but too merciful to a 
 vanquished foe, the Irish nation presents a character 
 which must of necessity detest and deipise that of 
 Britain, which must in its very nature be antagonistic, 
 
 and which must consequently, at every hopeful oppor- 
 tunity, attempt the destruction of British power in Ire- 
 land. Vain shall wo ever esteem the hopes of those 
 who would unite, assimilate and consolidate the two 
 nations, and we must acknowledge the existence of a 
 lurking fear that the expectations of those who would 
 shortly separate them are quite as groundless. 
 
 To us it appears that the British character forbids an 
 amicable union. The Irish render futile the attempts 
 at separation ; thus do we reason : Could Britain dis- 
 card her selfish and centralizing policy, grant a foster- 
 ing encouragement to the commerce and industry of 
 the sister kingdom, and discountenance all invidious 
 distinctions between Irish and British, Catholic and 
 Protestant — in short, imitate American rule — the Irish, 
 so prone to forget past injuries, when friendship and 
 reparation are offered, and so apt to attach themselves 
 devotedly to their benefactors, would forget, with the 
 memory of their wrongs, the ancient glories of their 
 independent nationality would banish as Utopian 
 dreams, all ideas of separate national existence, and 
 settle down into busy, peaceful and comfortable west 
 Britons. 
 
 But the British cannot come to this ; their character 
 would not then be British, but Irish, with fair play as 
 its motto. Forbid it, lion of England ! Thy grisly 
 majesty, meekly lying down with the Iambs, in peace- 
 ful association with the guardian of the flock, the em- 
 blem of fidelity, the sagacious Irish wolf dog. Ab- 
 surdity ! such a consummation is not to be dreamt of. 
 In our opinion, the sun must set at least once, if not 
 much oftener, on the British empire ere the dawn of 
 this new golden age appears. 
 
 Peaceful union being, then, out of the question, in 
 consequence of the characteristic attributes of the Eng- 
 lish mind, we come to the consideration of hopes en- 
 tertained by many, of a a speedy separation of the two 
 countries ; here the Irish character exerts a malign 
 influence, although 'the failings lean to virtue's side.' 
 Erin disdains to attack the enemy in his weak or un- 
 garded moment, but, always, according to a rule of her 
 ancient chivalry, strikes the shield to warn her foe 
 of her hostile intention ; and shouuld the enemy be 
 sick, lame or lazy, and politely request a postponement 
 of the encounter, our araazon is too honorable to re- 
 fuse the respite. On the contrary, in the plentitude of 
 her generosity, she gives her cordial assistance to her 
 now feeble adversary, who, as soon as he regains his 
 strength, attacks her, while Hector, like her shield, is 
 thrown aside, defeats, and drags her at his chariot 
 wheels, a bleedmg and mangled victim, as much to 
 her own imprudence as to his savage ferocity. 
 
 This foe-sparing, self-ruining character of Ireland 
 precludes us from a sanguine hope of the early advent 
 of Irish freedom. Could Irishmen imitate American 
 revolutionists, patiently watch and await an oppor- 
 tunity, quietly recognize their forces, then suddenly 
 and simultaneously charge the foe at all points, ere he 
 could concentrate his strength, and relentlessly crush 
 both foreign foes and native traitors, then, indeed, may 
 we expect soon to see Erin's green rise from the field 
 to the flag-staff; but can this be "! Can Irishmen learn 
 caution enough to reconnoitre the enemy's position ? 
 to wait in the stronghold of a consolidated organi- 
 zation (O'Connell's plan) until the shattered forces 
 of their adversaries invite them to an easy conquest ? 
 Alas ! it seems they cannot, though the lessons of 
 their experience have been accompanied by blows 
 and stripes enough to awaken to a painful percep- 
 tion of their past errors the most sluggish intel- 
 lects. 
 
 From the foregone premises, the legal conclusion 
 is that England and Ireland are fated to a long con- 
 tinuance of a dear delectable cat and dog life. The 
 Irish have too many disputes among themselves to 
 render it possible for them to make common cause 
 against a common enemy ; for instance, the ques- 
 tions whether orange or green is the noblest color in 
 the solar spectrum, whether the 12th of July or 
 the 17th of March is the fittest day for uproarious 
 proceeeiouB emd silly sham-battles, in which a few 
 
 casualitics occur once in a while, with some other 
 disputes of minor importance. 
 
 The English are too fearful that the central 
 stomach (a stomach, not a heart, seems to be the 
 central organ of the British empire) would suffer 
 was any care bestowed on the distant extremities of 
 their national systems, e.\cept the care of drawing 
 from them. Their body politic has a venous system 
 without an arterial one ; as a consequence.it would 
 seem of the substitution of a stomach for a heart ia 
 the centre. 
 
 When Albion shall adopt the principles of Ameri- 
 can statesmanship, seek the greatest good of the 
 greatest number, and be as beneficient as provident, 
 and, therefore, as beloved a power at the extremi- 
 ties as at the centre of the empire, or when Ireland 
 shall imitate America in her revolutionary struggle 
 — the history of which we would recommend to the 
 perusal of our countrymen — then, and not till then, 
 can Ireland be either cordially united with or glori- 
 ously separated from England, 
 
 THE NEW YEAR. 
 
 Upon the dawning of a New Year, congratula- 
 tions for health, prosperity and happiness are on 
 every tongue. ' A happy New Year ' is the first 
 expression when friend meets friend, and, as a man 
 looking at himself in the glass, so, in the face 
 of each friend, you behold the mirrored desire and 
 good wish you entertain for them. This is the ac- 
 knowledged commencement of a new period, a time 
 when men commence anew to put forth efforts in 
 their respective callings, and, taking a retrospect 
 of the past, determine upon improvents for the fu- 
 ture. Many questions may be asked at the com- 
 mencement of a new year : How stands it between 
 ourselves and the Great Giver of all good ? How 
 stands it between ourselves and our neighbors ? 
 with our families and business ? Stock must be 
 taken in many ways, soundings felt, charts and 
 maps overhauled ; improvements must, at least, be 
 attempted in each, for each new year announces one 
 more gone — gone with all the errors into eternity, 
 never to be improved. Each one gone counts one 
 the less to come, and none can say that this is not 
 the last to him ; at longest, but a few more remain 
 before the last. Are we ready, then, to render an 
 account ? Are our books posted ? Is our house in 
 order ? Are we prepared to show that we have 
 performed our duty, in every sense, to religion, 
 society, to our families, and to ourselves ? These 
 are the questions to which we have generally 
 to an.swer, and if we soliloquize upon the subject it 
 generally brings the resolve to start again and do 
 better. We wish all our readers a ' Happy New 
 Year.' 
 
 ' Who is She ?' is a question frequently asked 
 us since the publication of that beautiful and truth- 
 ful poem, ' Nature's Gentleman,' in the last num- 
 ber of the Miscellaxy ; and while some personi 
 ridiculously doubt the originality of the produc- 
 tion, because of its appearing anonymously, others 
 — and in their opinion we heartily concur — declare, 
 with enthusiasm, that the fair authoress need not 
 hesitate to throw off the mask and take her place 
 high among the enviable list of our talented coun- 
 trywomen. Whetherlour timid contributor prefers to 
 remain 'inconnue,' or to heed the advice of her ar- 
 dent admirers, we, at all events, shall be most happy 
 to hear from her again, and often. Inasmuch as 
 she evidently wields an able pen, it should not be 
 suffered to remain inactive, if only to overcome the 
 obloquy attempted to be heaped upon the Irish 
 people because df their present assumed intellectual 
 shortcomings. 
 
 Time has closed upon our old friend, John B. Har- 
 vey. He has passed to that bourne where there is 
 neithor sorrow, affliction nor death. 
 
330 
 
 miSn MISCELLANY. 
 
 [Wrltlfu for the Mijcellaiiy] 
 
 SKETCHES OF RELIGIOUS CHARACTERS. 
 
 BY FROFBSSOn J. MAC ETOY. 
 ^0. I. 
 THE NOVICE. 
 
 The convent bell It slowly rinsing, 
 
 BleudiuK Willi till' Mcrcd sung; 
 In the choir the uuusiiru tiuniuj;; 
 
 Eager crowdn the portnls throng, 
 To see, impress'd with holy feeling, 
 A young and beButeous girl rercaUog 
 Her fervent love for Him nione, 
 ller sacred spouse, her ohoscu one. 
 
 The convent bell ia tolling still 
 
 The knell of hopes and lies on earth 
 Of her who, with uulblter'd will, 
 
 Luys down her wealth, her pride of birth, 
 Btlorc the throne of llini she loves— 
 The choice it made, her heart njiprovcs. 
 
 The organ now, like thunder rolling. 
 Through the convent chapel peals. 
 
 And slill that bell its deep note tolling 
 O'er the heart in saduess tteuls. 
 
 Behold, they come ! the virgin throng 
 In bridal robes arrayed along, 
 And bridal wreaths the fairest, too, 
 That ever wept the midnight dew, 
 White robed children bowers flinging 
 In their palh, and censers swinging 
 M'ith jwrfumd vapor all the air, 
 And shed a grateful fragrance there. 
 
 The Novice conies. Like living light 
 She bursts upon th' enraptured sight; 
 A white wiiig'd seraph seen in dreams 
 By saints of old, that maiden seems, 
 So littlenow of earth is there, 
 So much of Heaven, so wondrous fair. 
 
 That lovely girl appears; 
 Vpon her neck of virgin snow 
 Her raven ringlets freely flow; 
 
 lieneath the veil she n ears 
 Her bead, with gems whose flash illumes. 
 Droops gently 'uealh white waving plumes; 
 Her sort blue eye,., the earth that seek 
 The blushes mantling o'er her cheek, 
 As shrinking from the admiring gaze 
 She hears the subdued voice of praise 
 From those who mourn to sec thus doom'd 
 Such loveliuess to be eutomb'd ; 
 She heeds it not, but moves on, while 
 The sacred hymn swells thro' the aisle. 
 Oh, ne'er does woman look more bright 
 Than when array d for holy rite; 
 There is a charm religion flings 
 Around her very simplest things- 
 Wore radiant still that halo glows 
 When beaming round young beauty's brows. 
 
 And can this be Sir Roland's child. 
 The youthful Clara, wayward, wild. 
 The last lone liuk of til his line. 
 Here bending at the virgin's shrine. 
 And now so changed ?— say, can this be 
 The idol ol each titled knee. 
 The evening star of Fashion's sky. 
 That beamd in splendor on the eye? 
 Those graceful limbs, those Iniry feet, 
 Oft in the w reatliing waltz so fleet. 
 Arc prostrate now in humble prayer 
 Belore the enthron'd prelate there. 
 Her bosom heaves with sorrow's sighs. 
 And rayless seem her siarlike eyes. 
 That swim in streams of silent tears, 
 ■Wept for the stains of other years, 
 That her young soul unconscious cherish'd, 
 By Fashion taught and Tassion nourish'd, 
 The word or thought iicr light heart flung 
 Vnmeasur'd trom her truant tongue. 
 The studied airs and looks that warm 
 The heart of youth to beauty's form. 
 The many hours she spent to please. 
 And lure the wanton eye to gaze, 
 M'here robes scem'd worn to conceal 
 The charms that they half reveal. 
 Here are the sources of the tears 
 That sparkle on the cross she hears, 
 But with a joy that Uope awakes 
 And to her sufl'eriug spirit speaks. 
 
 Still oft a thought will come with pain 
 Around her heart, and joy restrain : 
 It is ot one who loved her long. 
 And wood her with his lender song; 
 ■ft ho was her tutor in that art, 
 The sweetest language of the heart- 
 
 Music! sister twin of Love, 
 
 The brighleet rays that Iron) above 
 
 Fall on Ihis earth from this bright sphere. 
 
 And tell us of the bliss that 's there. 
 
 But poor the minstrel wnf and young. 
 
 His only riches Love and Song; 
 
 I'et these were all the wealth she sought, 
 
 Who gave to tiong the Love It taught. 
 
 To win by >alur, wealth and fame. 
 
 That he some day might proudly claim 
 
 'i'oung Clara at her father's hands. 
 
 Ho leaves his home for distant lauds; 
 
 His sweet guitar he flings aside, 
 
 And grasps the sw ord with martial pride ; 
 
 He mounts his steed, and, borne afar, 
 
 The minstrel mingles iu the war. 
 
 Years onivard roll'd; no tidings came 
 To mark his pathway or his name. 
 At length, the fate she long hud feared 
 Has befallen him— for she has heard 
 That he in battle Hghting fell. 
 And sent to her his last farewell. 
 Her father, too, died. Kow alone: 
 All that she lov'd on earth is gone. 
 She turns in coldness from the crowd 
 Of suiters, noble, rich and proud. 
 To Ueaveu lilts her tear gem'd eyes. 
 And for some tranquil home she sighs. 
 Where, free from earthly joy s and cares. 
 Her days may pass in peace and prayer. 
 Her heart with holy ferver flr'd, 
 AVith sacred grace her soul iuspir'd. 
 She ceeks those cloister'd sisters where 
 The heart is trained to God in prayer; 
 And there she heard those truths reveal'd 
 That from her mind were long conceal'd. 
 But now, like rays of morning, broke 
 Upon her slumb'ring soul, and woke 
 Her heart from dreams ol earthly love. 
 To joys that have their source above. 
 She ielt like one wak'd, long entranced. 
 And as her mem'ry backward glanced. 
 Her youthful follies, now review'd. 
 Seemed of such depth and magnitude 
 That reason trembled on the brink 
 Of dark despair, and thus to think 
 Upon the waste ot early years 
 Unspent in virtue. But these tears 
 Her soul's sincere contrition speak. 
 In sighs that stem her heart to break. 
 The choice is made, the path is taken. 
 And all of wordly things forsaken. 
 Before the prelate now she's kneeling. 
 The cull of grace her young soul feeling; 
 She cra\es admittance to the choir 
 Of saintly sisters, where the lire 
 Of holy love is ever burning, 
 From morning's dawn to morn returning. 
 
 To lead a life of prayer and peace 
 Within the convent walls 
 
 Is all she asks, till lite shall cease, 
 And heaven her spirit calls. 
 
 Her vows are made, her prayer is granted. 
 
 The hymn of praise is loudly chanted; 
 
 The Kovice and the nuns retire 
 
 To seek their sisters in the choir. 
 
 Who greet her as a new-made bride. 
 
 And come to put those robes aside 
 
 She lately wore with holy pride. 
 
 Those costly tissues that sl.e wore 
 
 Lie crushed and trampled on the floor; 
 
 The diamond zone that binds her hair 
 
 Is sparkling for the last time there; 
 
 Those raven trusses, once the theme 
 
 Of many a tongue and midnight dream, 
 
 Are sever'd now, no more to deck 
 
 By contrast with her swan-like neck ; 
 
 And with regret she deeply sighs. 
 
 To think how poor the sacrilice 
 
 For Him whose brows were pierced with thoruB, 
 
 And bore lor her both scourge aud scorns. - 
 
 Now all is o'er. 'X'liat bi,t:h-born maid. 
 
 In coarse and simple garb arrayed, 
 
 I'rays in the choir. The riles are done ; 
 
 The gates are clos'd ; the crowd is gone. 
 
 And years rolled by One summer night 
 The moon shone Ibrth wilh sollest light, 
 ^ud thro' the convent windowc streams, 
 As if rejoiced to lend her beams 
 To light the little chapel where 
 The nuns are prostrate all in prayer. 
 The vesper bell had ceased to chime; 
 The vesper hymn of praise subl'me 
 
 In harmony arose 
 From lute-like voices, while around 
 
 All breath'd of piety profound, 
 Iteligiuu and repose. 
 
 Hark! to the gate a warlike steed 
 Comes recking there in foamlngspeed; 
 The rider 'lights, and seems opptess'd 
 With some snd core. His martial vest 
 Iteveals a wariior's manly form. 
 That bears the niatks of battle's storm. 
 While on his hrjast are sparkling stars 
 Of honors won in many wars. 
 He gazes on the convent walls. 
 Knocks at the gate, and loudly calls. 
 He listens; but no voice is heard. 
 Save where the wind the trees hasetirr'd; 
 But soon a chord of music swells 
 Upon his ear like distant bells. 
 It is the vesper hymn, ascending 
 
 On the night breeze, greets his ear; 
 He laneies one loved voice is blending, 
 
 In past days he loved to hear. 
 He strikes with trembling hand the striuga 
 Of his guitar, and sweetly sings 
 The song he taught and knew she loved, 
 When olt at summer's eve they rored. 
 A female form soon appears. 
 And in her hand a tajier hears. 
 His quick'ning pulse tells half his hopes 
 Are granted. As the lattice opes 
 I'lie timid portress seeks his name, 
 And starts to hear 'tis linked with fame. 
 He enters, and the Abbess veil'd. 
 Her pallid face from him conceal'd, 
 Keceives the soldier. Blinding low 
 He craves her blessing; bares his brow; 
 His plumed helmet is removed. 
 Disclosing features ouce so loved. 
 She starts to see that form again! 
 Long lost, and mourned us of the slain, 
 Kecalliug dreams of vanished years; 
 And mem'ries long effaced by tears 
 Came rushing o'er her heart and braia 
 With all their agony of pain. 
 The plighted faith, t e parting token. 
 She gave to him with vows long broken; 
 His promise, then, to win from fame 
 For her dear sake a glorious name. 
 That e'en the proudest dure not spurn. 
 When to her teet he would return — 
 All now fullill'd. The fame is won, 
 The pilgrimnge for her is done ; 
 Tho' prisoner long in dungeon buried, 
 Till he escaped atd homeward hurried, 
 But knows not ol those solemn vows 
 That wed her to a heavenly spouse. 
 She sees that brow with laurel crown'd. 
 His name thro' every laud renow'd. 
 And feels it all with agony 
 That tares her heartstrings, thus to see 
 Him at her feet, the worshipper 
 Who braved a thousand deaths for her. 
 And deeper still the grief to know 
 The hands that bless him give the blow; 
 She cannot crush a heart that loved 
 Her with an ardor, now so proud. 
 She feels her courage ailing fast, 
 Her eyes with faith are upward cast, 
 Aud pitying angels hear to heaven 
 That tigh for strength, and strength is given. 
 With faltering step and voice shepress'd 
 Her trembling hands upon his brow. 
 And then he knew 'twas Clara bless'd. 
 Her lover in the warior now; 
 For. oh! that touch thrill'd thro' bis frame ; 
 He felt its lire, and breathed her name' 
 Then in his own her hands he press'd, 
 And rose to fold her to his breast; 
 But nature now could bear no more. 
 She fainting lell ujiou the floor. 
 
 The night was gone, and twilight grey 
 Was melting into daw niiig day 
 Ere from the porch the soldier pass'd ; 
 That long sad meeting closed at last.] 
 His bronzed brow bore no relief 
 From traces of tome dreadful grief; 
 His pallid cheek and sunken eyes 
 Told blighted hopes, wild agonies; 
 His features wore a deep despair. 
 As though life'sjourney ended there; 
 And for him now there was no home 
 Beneath the sk'ys expansive dome. 
 Oh, bitter w ere tjie thoughts that rushed 
 Upon his soul— so sad, so crushed- 
 To see the ceaseless toil of years 
 For fame, for w ealth, and all that cheers 
 The lover's heart to dare and do 
 For her it loves, if she is true- 
 All lo:l, all perished, in one word; 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 831 
 
 Her tenrfl linlf smothered, yet he bcnrd, 
 And on liis brenst in nnguisli Cell 
 Her sod, nud solemn, liiat • Farewell I ' 
 
 Tlie convent bell for matin 'b rung, 
 As on his courser's back he sprung; 
 One last look on the eonvcnt turning, 
 
 In an opeu cai^ement sees 
 A lighted taper dimly burning, 
 
 A white veil waving in the breeze. 
 And snowy hands are raised in prayer 
 To bless him partinp, lingering there. 
 He feels it as her last adieu, 
 To him on earth no more to view; 
 He waves his hand, he bows his head, 
 And tears flow now, the flrst he shed. 
 He looks again, the vision 's fled. 
 The casement closed, the taper gone; 
 He sorrowing bends his way alone ! 
 
 Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 185S, by 
 Thomas O'Keill, in the District Court of Massachusetts. 
 
 REMINISCENCES IN THE 
 
 — IM THE — 
 
 ENGLISH AND AMERICAN SERVICES. 
 BY THOMAS O'UEILL. 
 
 DBDICATBD TO GENERAL JAMES SHIELDS. 
 
 THE PARENT'S PET. 
 
 During the rebellion of '98 in Ireland, when the 
 government of England was compelled to hire 
 foreign troops to suppress and keep down the peo- 
 ple, the Hessians were, as they still continue to be, 
 ready to tight for pay in any cause, or any quarrel, 
 whatsoever. So it was with them in the American 
 struggle; so it was in Ireland, at the disastrous 
 period I have mentioned. 
 
 Many of these Hessians were very unwilling to 
 leave a service in which they were better paid than 
 they were by their native petty tyrants of Ger- 
 many, and so a number of them remained in the 
 British service after their comrades had returned 
 home to the continent. 
 
 Those old Hessians, on their immediate descend- 
 ants, usually occupy posts of trust and emolument, 
 such as quarter masters, band masters, veterinary 
 surgeons, or such Uke lucrative and easy staff sit- 
 uations. 
 
 The veterinary surgeon of our regiment was an 
 old Hessian. He understood his profession well ; 
 no man was better skilled in horse flesh. He could 
 tell about every horse in the regiment. If you told 
 him your horse was sick he would ask his name- 
 all the horses were named— when he would reflect 
 a little, and, after a short pause, would say : ' Yes, 
 I know him, he joined at such a place, in the year 
 so and so.' His character followed after this wise : 
 ' Him von goot, von vary goot horse ; he done his 
 Tork vary veil; him no von schamier.' If the horse 
 was not up to his mark he would describe him 
 thus : ' Him von bad raschal ; him one schamier 
 tief; him got for nooting ; him ish fifteen or eigh- 
 teen years in de service ; him nefer earn his hay ; 
 him all humbug ; I vill see him ; you pring him 
 out.' 
 
 He would then examine his horse, and, if any- 
 thing ailed him, would prescribe for him ; other- 
 wise he would wake him up with the weight of his 
 strong arm, and his good horse-cudgel, in which, 
 he used to say lay more virtue than all the nos- 
 trums contained in his medicine chest. 
 
 Now this old veteran had two sons, as fine look- 
 ing young fellows as ever were seen at barrack, and 
 so much did they resemble each other in their per- 
 sonal appearance, that few could tell them aparf. 
 They were accomplished in the drill of the military 
 school, and fitted for any branch of the service. 
 
 Henr}-, the eldest, was a special favorite with all 
 
 who knew him ; mild, kind, and attractive in every | mcndations, to Gen. Sir Dc Lacy Evans,who beine 
 war. he linrl the cnoH will nf .,11 cn,.n 1,:.. .._ i , ■ . ° 
 
 way, he had the good will of all save his parents. 
 Frank, the younger, was wild, overbearing and 
 impudent. Nobody who knew him liked him except 
 his parents. He was their pet ; their spoiled child. 
 
 This reprehensible partially of the parents was 
 justly punished as the sequel will disclose. No 
 parents are justified in indulging in such capricious 
 whims. All their children arc entitled to like 
 treatment, and no marked partiality should be ex- 
 hibited except where the conduct of children would 
 justify a marked diflferenoe; but this only occasion- 
 ally, for the benefit and reformation of the erring, 
 otherwise the practice is highly criminal, and should 
 be frowned down by the good sense of mankind. 
 
 From childhood up the boys were treated by their 
 parents as though they were not brothers. One was 
 their idol, and all he did, no matter what it was, 
 was right, while the other could do nothing to 
 please. Nothing too good, no expense too great for 
 Frank, while for Henry nothing could be too harsh, 
 unkind, or unjust. 
 
 Things remained thus until the young fellows 
 grew up to manhood. The pet became wild and 
 reckless, quite unmanageable ; the other, on the 
 contrary, was mild, retiring and gentlemanly in his 
 demeanor and habits, but a shade of quiet melan- 
 choly evinced how much he felt the want of parental 
 affection. He was warmly attached to his brother, 
 and Frank nevir reiciprocated his affection, but 
 seemed to share the unkind feelings of his parents 
 towards him. Every person who knew the family 
 was aware of this unnatural state of things, and 
 very justly condemned the wicked partiality shown 
 by the parents, for Henry was universally liked ; 
 but none could be found to com.mend the conduct 
 of Frank. 
 
 Such was the condition of affairs in the household 
 of this family at the time the civil war in Spain was 
 .attracting the attention of Europe. Strong induce- 
 ments were held out by agents of both Don Carlos 
 and the young Queen Isabella to enterprising young 
 men to embark in their struggle. 
 
 In the meantime,it had been generally understood, 
 in the regiment that the old veteran intended to 
 bring up the younger son as a veterinary surgeon, 
 taking every pains in instructing him, and sparing 
 no expense on any branch of education that was 
 needed. In dissecting the horse, the old man him- 
 self was reputed to be very skillful, and he strove to 
 impart all the knowledge that he had acquired to 
 his pet, who, to say the least, exhibited unmistak- 
 able evidences of proficiency in hts profession ; nor 
 yet was it any secret, when Frank returned from 
 college, having obtained his diploma, that it was 
 the father's intention to retire from the service on 
 half pay, using all the interest he could muster with 
 the reigning family, the Guelphs, to have his favo- 
 rite son installed in his place. 
 
 As for Henry, there appeared to be no thought of 
 his future ; he might go where he pleased, seek his 
 fortune how and where he best could, and, appa- 
 rently, the sooner he betook himself from their 
 charge, the more pleasing it would be to his unnat- 
 ural parents. 
 
 It would seem ;hat he felt this, for very soon after 
 he announced his intention of entering the Britsih 
 legion, which was at that time, under the sanction 
 of the British government, fitting out for Spain, to 
 aid the Christina party. He respectfully commu- 
 nicated his determination to his parents, who re- 
 ceived his announcement with great indiffeience, 
 coolly remarking that he might be shot. 
 
 llcnry had acquired the good will of all the offi- 
 cers in the regiment, who, being well posted as to 
 how he stood with his family, took the greater in- 
 terest in him, and, knowing him to be a deserving 
 young man,and throughly qualified to perform every 
 duty of a good soldier, tliey obtained for him a 
 commission, and sent him, with the highest recom- 
 
 quite taken by his appearance and the high charac- 
 ter he brought with him, at once appointed him to a 
 troop of lancers. 
 
 He bade an affectionate and dutiful farewell to 
 his parents, who appeared to be a very little con- 
 cerned whether they ever saw him again or not. It 
 was not so, however, with many others who knew 
 him well. The troopers parted with him with sin- 
 cere regret, heartily wishing him the most abundant 
 success in life, and prophecying that, if he got any 
 chance at all, he would earn honorable promo- 
 tion. 
 
 Nothing was heard of him for more than a year 
 after this, save that his bravery had won him favor 
 from those in authority. The next intelligence we 
 heard of him was that he had been wounded, and 
 then came a report that he had been killed. His 
 parents attributed his death to his own mad folly, 
 and said it looked very much like a fulfilment of 
 their prophecy in relation to him, and that they 
 never expected any good to come of him. 
 
 There were flying rumors that poor Henry was 
 not dead; but still nothing definite as to his 
 fate could be ascertained with any degree cf 
 certainty until the war was ended. During 
 the interval, Frank had completed his course of 
 study. Through interest made with the King and 
 his brother, Duke of Cumberland, King of Hano- 
 ver, he was appointed veterinary surgeon vice 
 his father, retired. The old fellow had spent forty 
 years in the service. 
 
 One winter's evening, a short time before the old 
 man had quitted the service, a coach drove into the 
 barrack yard, and a tall figure, dressed in a military 
 cloak, was heard to inquire for the rooms of Mr. 
 
 F . The coachman, in answer to inquiries made 
 
 of him, stated that his ' fare ' was a Spanish officer, 
 and, shortly after, the troopmates had the pleasure 
 
 of greeting Henry V as one amongst the living. 
 
 He looked delicate, but was fast recovering from 
 the effects of some severe wounds, and had good 
 prospects of a speedy and permanent recovery to 
 health. 
 
 His parents seemed glad to see him, but evident- 
 ly feared, at the same time, that he had returned to 
 be a burthen upon them, and, to those who were 
 intimate with them, it became too plain that they 
 would as soon have been assured of the certainty of 
 his death as to see him return to them. 
 
 In a few days Henry signified his intention to 
 leave them, and though not yet restored to health, 
 he took up his abode in a Metropolitan Hotel at the 
 west end. In a day or two afterwards it was an- 
 nounced in the newspapers that the brave Colonel 
 
 F , who had so signally distinguished himself 
 
 in Spain, had returned to England to recruit his 
 health, and that the fame of his brilliant services 
 had procured for him the honor of a presentation at 
 court ; that he had received the most gracious 
 tokens of distinguished favor from her majebty,and, 
 finally, that he hud been appointed to settle the 
 claims against the Spanish government, while his 
 health was being re-established, when he would re- 
 ceive a lucrative appointment near the person of her 
 majesty. 
 
 The news astounded the old couple ; they were 
 completely chagrined, while, to increase their un- 
 happiness, their pet was every day sporting his 
 time and what little character he had left in scenes 
 of dissipation and debauchery. He had also taken 
 to gambling, became involved beyond his means, 
 and, at length, became a mere sot. He lost his 
 commission, and was obliged to join his father in 
 business — the old man, on retiring from thj service 
 had set up an extensive livery establishment. He 
 
 soon, however, lost all ; the pet had ruined him 
 
 drove him out of business into poverty. 
 
 The young colonel, after remaining a few years in 
 London, returned to Spain. There he rose to great 
 
332 
 
 IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 reputation and high favor at court. To his honor, 
 be it said that, in his prosperity, he did not forget 
 or neglect his parents, but rendered them support 
 in their old age, notwithstanding their cruel treat- 
 ment of him in former days. 
 
 It needs no seer to to tell the final end of the pet. 
 I will, at least, accord him the charity of silence 
 regarding it, and will conclude my true story by 
 offering it to foolish parents as a lesson and a 
 ■warning. 
 
 ORANCE RIOTINC IN THE ISLE OF MAN. 
 
 Every diiy some event or other occurs to convince 
 us that I'rotestautism is in danger of dying out, that it 
 is approaching its last throes, and culminating towards 
 its agony. Uow, it will bo asked, does all this ap- 
 pear ! By the desperate cirorts made to pci vert the 
 jouDg and the adult poor, by the endless mendacities 
 circulated as to tlio number of perversions etVccted, 
 where in reality there are none, aud where in numer- 
 ous instances there are, on the contrary, conversions 
 to Catholicism, and, finally, by the acts of infuriate 
 violence and serious injury to the person and property 
 of Catholics. A scene of brutality of the latter class 
 has just been enacted in the Isle of Man. The 5th of 
 November, which should, if possible, be transferred to 
 the 1st of April in the Protestant calender, seemed a 
 fit occasion for the descendants of the Pagan Druids 
 of Mona to play a part which would have better befitted 
 the times when there were worshippers of wood and 
 forest, and the savage priesthood that sacrificed human 
 victims, than for our days of boasted enlightenment 
 and progress in all things. There are about ICOOof 
 the Queen's lieges in the Isle of Man, all good men 
 and true, but who, because they worship God in the 
 manner their fathers before them did. are objects of de- 
 rision, mockery, and incessant persecution to the fol- 
 lowers of the endless creeds that have sprung from the 
 blessed Reformation — that Reformation, bless the 
 mark ! — whose three bnndrtdth anniversary these 
 saints of every conceivable sect conccivid they could 
 not more fittingly celebrate than by sacrificing a heta- 
 tomb of Papists. We can understand what an infu- 
 riated, ignorant mob would do when hounded on by 
 intolerant zealots, professing to be preachers of peace. 
 But we confess ourselves utterly unable, if what is al- 
 leged be true, to comprehend the conduct of the chief 
 magistrate of Douglas. We, however, refrain from 
 further comment at present on what we trust will 
 prove to be unfounded. Convinced that the whole of 
 this outrageous ruftianism, this barbarous maltreat 
 ment of an unoflfendmg people, and desecration of that 
 which they hold most precious and sacred, must be 
 subjected to a strict and searching investigation, an 
 investigation which shall not only bring the foul in- 
 stigators of the riot to light, bat shall visit with due 
 penalties those who, instead of allaying the insane fury 
 ofihe rabble, winked at, and tacitly, at least, ap- 
 prove of, as it would seem, the mischief, misrule and 
 Vandalism in which the mob indulged with such 
 marked impunity. On Tuesday the public bellman 
 was sent round the town, shouting at every corner at 
 the top of his voice that all Orangemen were to meet 
 at seven o'clock on special business, adding, ' God 
 save the Queen,' after which a deafening cheer is heard 
 from the Orange party who accompany him. The 
 meeting assembled at seven o'clock, and immediately 
 after a mob, consisting of some hundreds of persons, 
 perambulated the streets, and i)rocceded to the scene 
 of action. After a good share of curses against the 
 Catholics, and a pretty good share of stone throw- 
 ing at the new church, they proceeded to the residence 
 of the high bailiff, and requesting he would say a (ew ' 
 words of consolation to them, in their affliction, he I 
 comes out of the house and tells them, instead of read- 
 ing the riot act, that he knew their feelings had been 
 hurt, and that they had cause for this demonstration, I 
 but he would rather they would go home. One cries I 
 oat—' We will teach the priests and Irish Ribbcnmen ' 
 how to act,' and immediately a deafening cheer was I 
 given by the mob, the cliief magistrate, at the samel 
 
 time, taking of his hat, walked into the house. They 
 then made a most dasterdly and outrageous attuck on 
 tha Catholic chapel, breaking all the windows. Alter 
 this they attacked the houses of some of the most 
 prominent Chtholic, in some instances the occupants 
 barely escaping with their lives. For more than one 
 hour and a half did they continue their fiendish work 
 of wrecking and destroying the property of the Catho- 
 lic portion of the community. There was no show of 
 resistance whatever made by the Catholics during the 
 riot. 
 
 FOREIGN INTELLIGENCE. 
 
 IHELAND. 
 
 The Apostles of Extermination. — The mono- 
 mania of the landlords of Donegal, as may be gather- 
 ed from the letters of justices of the peace, and others 
 in the Daily Express, seems to be the belief that they 
 can put down assassination by taking the law into 
 their own hands, thus unconsciously falling into the 
 deplorable error of the assassins themselves. This is 
 the one point on which these men of education, refine- 
 ment, and gentlemanly instincts, contribute their quota 
 in support of the theory we have noticed. The at- 
 tempted murder of Mr. Nixon has done it all. Like 
 the dragon's teeth sown by Cadmus, the teeth lost bv 
 the reverend gentleman have sprung up in ihe shape 
 of armed men, whose valor will not be satisfied with 
 anything short of wholesale extermination. A writer, 
 who seems to have studied the ' History of the Bucca- 
 neers ' to some advantage, recommends bloodhounds 
 as a suitable aid to landlord scouring parties in their 
 mountain visitations. Another — apparently a land- 
 lord — is equally practical in his letter to the Daily 
 Express. Hero are the sentiments of this ' natural 
 protector' of the people : — 'I would recommend land- 
 lords and agents, when visiting doubtful and discon- 
 tented tenants, to go forth with a stout heart, a firm 
 hand, and a loaded blunderbuss — this is my modus. 
 It will deter the skulking coward from openly attack- 
 ing you, and if you get a fair shot at him, you save a 
 trial by jury.' Now, we put it to the common sense of 
 the community whether any one who writes in this 
 strain can be in the enjoyment of more than a slight 
 proportion of his senses. We shall not ask any 
 opinion as to the mental condition of those journalists 
 who advocate these Christian suggestions in all the 
 moods and -.enses. Were it not that the authors of 
 these foolish letters may find readers as weak-minded 
 as themselves, such productions might supply a fund 
 of amusement to the public in these dull times, nor 
 might they be without some value in the estimation of 
 the medical faculty. As it is, however, the peace of a 
 county is too dangerous a subject for trifling; and if 
 the writers belong, as is generally believed, to the aris- 
 tocracy of Donegal, we would commend them to the 
 attention of those who do not wish that privileged or- 
 der to become utterly ridiculous. — [Derry Journal. 
 
 A month ago, says the Times, a gentleman 
 called for Mr. Douglas, justice of peace fiscal 
 in Glasgow, and stated that he wished to be united 
 to a young Catholic lady, with whom he had eloped 
 from Ireland. He had courted her, he said, and 
 was accepted, but in consequence of being a Protes- 
 tant, the lady's mother refused to consent to the 
 marriage. As time wore on the young lady sus- 
 pected that another match was on the tapis, singu- 
 larly distasteful to her, and informed her lover of 
 her feors. Then, accompanied by her maid, they 
 drove off from Kildare, round by Wicklow county, 
 and thence to Dublin. On being unsuccessful in 
 their attempt to be made man and wife there they 
 started for Liverpool, and finally for Glasgow, where 
 they were informed the thing could bo done off- 
 hand. But in this they were doomed to suffer, if 
 not disappointment, at least delay; for, although 
 
 cordingly a respectable lodging was procured for 
 
 the young lady and her maid in the vicinity of OIbb- 
 gow, and Saturday last, being the day when ' time 
 
 was up,' the happy event took place in due form. 
 Then, after the health of the newly married couple 
 had been pledged, th£ gentleman, with his beauti- 
 ful wife, (who is said to be the heiress of £60,000) 
 proceeded to Joze's hotel, where an elegant 'dejeu- 
 ner ' was served. A delightful afternoon was spent, 
 and the happy pair started off in the evening by the 
 Belfast boat en route to the gentleman's scat. The 
 event above narrated is chronicled in the local 
 papers as follows : — 'At Glasgow, on the 27th inst., 
 Richard Newcommcn, Esq., of Turf Lodge, Kildare, 
 to Marianne, eldest daughter of Wm. Disney, Esq., 
 of Lark Lodge, Kildare. 
 
 Dfath of a Veteran Patriot. — In the historic 
 and patriotic town of Callan, there died, on the 23d 
 ult., as true an Irishman as ever lived or died for 
 his country. He was a man in humble life; but he 
 hud a noble soul — a spirit that would not shrink from 
 sacrafice when the cause of creed or country re- 
 quired it. This veteran patriot of Callan, was 
 Thomas Feehan, aged 70 years, who stood by his 
 native land in every struggle, made for its inde- 
 pendence during that long and eventful period; 
 who remembered from his early boyhood the suffer- 
 ings of our forefathers in hapless "98, and who treas- 
 ured in his inermost soul the memory of those 
 wrongs, and the spirit to avenge them. In every 
 struggle for Ireland he was the first, and the fore- 
 most in it, incurring its risks, and sharing its 
 dangers. He was all through O'Connell's agitation, 
 one of his warmest admirers, and most stedfast sup- 
 porters in his own humble way; and when a bolder 
 step was taken, Thomas Feehan was in the first 
 rank, aud suffered incarceration y.ith Smith O'Brien, 
 in Clonmel jail, for nearly six months. He was a 
 strict teetotaller for the last eighteen years, having 
 taken the pledge in the commencement of Father 
 Mathew's mission, and kept it faithfully till the 
 day of his death. May he rest in peace. — [Kilkenny 
 Journal. 
 
 A terrible crime — more resembling an English 
 than an Irish one — has been committed near Fang- 
 hart, on the old road leading from Dowdall's Hill 
 to Flurry bridge. The unfortunate victim was a 
 widow named Mary M'Court, aged fifty-four years, 
 and lived in a house in which she sold meal and 
 other provisions. No one resided with her but a 
 grand-daughter, aged four years. The unfortunate 
 deceased was reputed to have money. AVe under- 
 stand she took £120 out of the bank when the run 
 for gold took place some months ago, but whether 
 she lodged it it there again we cannot say. On 
 Tuesday morning last the neighbors were astonished 
 on tiding the door of her house locked. Her broth- 
 ers were informed of the fact, and on going to the 
 house they found the door locked and the shutters 
 on the windows, and heard the child crying inside. 
 They forced the door open, and on going inside 
 their worst fears were realized; they found their 
 unfortunate sister dead, and several wounds on her 
 head and neck, as if she had been strangled. The 
 till in the little shop was rifled, and there were 
 only a few pounds of candles and about one cwt. 
 of meal found in the drawer. Doctor Callan held 
 an inquest on the deceased, when the jury found 
 that Mary M'Court was murdered by some person 
 or persons at present unknown. The little child 
 could give no distinct account of any thing she 
 heard or saw. The affair has creaied a great sensa- 
 tion. — [Dundalk Democrat. 
 
 Nations have no objection that the slaves of other 
 countries shall assert their freedom, if only their own 
 slaves remain submissive. We have no doubt that the 
 
 those useful gentlemen, the justices, can ' splice ' a 
 
 couple, they must have sufficient evidence that the j Legrees of Louisiana would wish to hear of the Polish 
 pair have resided at least twenty one days in the banner waving once more over the waters of the Vistu- 
 county. The couple, however, were determined la, if 'Uncle Tom' would still bow to his labor and 
 not to go back, except as a married pair, and ac- I his lash. Upon the same principle England sympa- 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 333 
 
 thizos with freedom abroad, and trnmplos upon it at 
 home. Slie weeps over ihe fallen Jtngynrs while she 
 tortures the fallen Hindoos I And yet the Englishmen 
 •CO nothing wrong in all this, for they are blinded by 
 prejudice and self-interest. Personally we hear no ill- 
 will to the English people. They possess many ex- 
 cellent qualities; but certainly love of freedom is not 
 one of them. Can they point to a tyranny in Europe, 
 or even in America, like that which has prevailed in 
 India since first they set foot on it. We need not 
 enumerate the horrors of British rule in that country; 
 they are universally admitted; and, although they still 
 characterize it, the voice of England is not raised to 
 denounce them. And why ? Because England makes 
 money by her cruelties towards the hapless Hindoo. 
 Macaulay accurately describes British policy in that 
 country when he says that the instructions of the com- 
 pany to Warren Hastings were:— 'Rule leniently if you 
 can, but — send home more money.' The loot blinds 
 England to the lash; else why do not Englishmen 
 exclaim against British brutality in Indial? — [Kilkenny 
 Journal. 
 
 New Ships fob the Galwat Line. — We have 
 already announced by telegram from London that the 
 Atlantic Royal Mail Steam Navigation Company had 
 concluded a contract for the building of three ships 
 with the Messrs. Palmer & Co., the eminent shipbuild- 
 ers of Newcastle-on-Tyne. We are now enabled to 
 give our readers some particulars on the subject. The 
 three new vessels, which will be ready in June and 
 July next, are to be 'express despatch steamers,' for 
 the conveyance of telegraphic messages, mails, and 
 passengers only. They will carry no cargo whatever. 
 They are to be in every respect first class vessels, fitted 
 up in the most superb style; and, if the terms of the 
 coDtrart should be carried out (of which we have no 
 doubt), will be equalled in point of speed and com- 
 fort. Their dimensions will be 347 feet in length, 
 forty feet in beam, and twenty-five feet in debth. Ton- 
 nage, 2,500 builders' measurement. They will each 
 afi'ord accommodation to 200 first and 300 second class 
 passengers; and will be provided with a dining saloon 
 120 feet in length. The engines will be oscillating 
 cylinders, warranted to work at 2,5u0 effective horse 
 power. The contractors have guaranteed a minimum 
 speed of 20 miles an hour. This is a quicker rate of 
 speed than has hitherto been attained; the Queen's 
 yacht, which is one of the fastest boats afloat, having 
 never exceeded, even under the most favorable cir- 
 cumstances, eighteen knots an hour. Even at the 
 highest speed which those 'express despatch steamers' 
 can reach, it is calculated that they will not consume 
 more than seventy tons of coal per day, in consequence 
 of the improved machinery with which they will he 
 fitted up. We believe we are not too sanguine in an- 
 ticipating, along with the directors of the company, 
 that they will ere long cross the Atlantic iu aix days. 
 — [Galway Vindicator. 
 
 We have to announce the death of Denny Wynne, 
 the well known jockey, which took place at Ross- 
 more Lodge, Kurragh. He had been ailing for 
 sometime past, and at the steeple chase at Tulla- 
 more, in March last, when riding Black Bess, he 
 broke a blood vessel and was obliged to pull up. 
 From that period he daily declined, and never after 
 ventured to exhibit across country, though in the 
 September meeting he was winner en the Knight of 
 the Blaze, and rode in one or two other races at the 
 meeting; but it was evident from his wasted appear- 
 ance that he would never get over the winter. 
 Denny was a first class horseman, both as a steeple 
 chase rider and on the flat, with a firm seat and a 
 capital judge of a pace, and for many years past 
 there has not been a race of any note in this coun- 
 try in which he was not 'up.' He has left a numer- 
 ous family behind him, badly provided for, to 
 lament his loss. — [Telegraph. 
 
 The Rev. Micha;! Ryan, C. C, St. Mary's, on 
 Monday received Mr. William Green, of Mary 
 street, into the Catholic church. — [Limerick Re- 
 porter. 
 
 The Kilkenny Journal says; — 'An accident of an 
 appalling nature occurred at Banyou.skcl, near 
 Durrow. The house of Mr. John lloolahan, a re- 
 spectable farmer living in that locality, took fire 
 accidentally from the bloze of a candle, and all 
 efforts to extinguish the flames proved inefiectual. 
 The house and outofKces were all consumed, and 
 the household had all escaped with the exception of 
 one of the infant children. In the first flush of ex- 
 citement Mrs. IToolahan did not miss her child, but 
 the moment she missed it, she dashed at once into 
 the blazing ruins, and was in the act of rescuing 
 her infant when the burning timbers fell upon her, 
 crushed her to death, and burned her almost to a 
 cinder ! A portion of her remains were found 
 amongst the smouldering ashes. 
 
 Warning Against Secket Societies. — At the 
 different services in the Downpatrick Catholic 
 chapel, on Sabbath last, the Rev. Father M-Convey, 
 C.C., cautioned the young men of the parish against 
 being misled or entrapped into the secret or 
 illegal societies, as by so doing they would cut 
 themselves off from th-; communion of the church 
 — that, in point of fact, they would be excommuni- 
 cated by joining such societies; and if any had the 
 misfortune to have joined, he implored them at once 
 to give up the connection, as he^assured them that 
 all who joined sinned grievously and continued in a 
 state of sin so long as they remained in such con- 
 nection with such societies. — [Newry Herald. 
 
 A correspondent from Bantry informs the Cork Ex- 
 aminer that the rumors about secret societies in that 
 town and in Kenmare have already begun to bear mis- 
 chievous fruit. Poor men have been discharged from 
 their emyloyment upon the mere suspicion of their 
 being connected with a secret organization, and badly 
 disposed persons are already beginning to make capital 
 out of malicious institutions respecting persons they 
 intend to injure. The police force of the town of 
 Bantry has been trebled, and military gentlemen have 
 been inspecting the dilapidated houses which adorn the 
 streets with a views, it is said, of converting them into 
 a sort ef bivouac for soldiers to suppress the ' rebel- 
 lion.' 
 
 The gentry of the Queen's County have subscrib- 
 ed £850, which sum with £150 offered by govern- 
 ment, makes up £1,000 as the reward for the con- 
 viction of the assassin of Mr. Ely. Delany is still 
 at large; £200 is offered for his apprehension; £100 
 for the arrest of such person or persons as may 
 harbor Delany, and £700 for such information as 
 shall lead to the actual conviction of the murderer 
 or murderers of Mr. Ely. 
 
 In consequence of a reduction of wages, about 
 500 laborers turned out on the Athlone and Tulla- 
 more railway, and desperately assaulted five gan- 
 gers, one of whom is not expected to recover. The 
 mob also broke a large quantity of tools and imple- 
 ments. The police at Ballycumber and Clare pur- 
 sued the rioters and dispersed them. Further dis- 
 turbances being apprehended, two stipondary magis- 
 trates and a very large force of police were stationedd 
 at different points along the line to keep the rioters 
 in check. 
 
 We are happy to find that Ireland is not behind- 
 hand in the manufacture of pianofortes. We have 
 just visited the manufactory of Mr. Marks, of No. 1 
 D'Oliver street, Dublin, through whose exertions 
 the only pianoforte manufactory in Ireland has been 
 established. We have inspected the different pro- 
 cess of manufacture explained by Mr. Marks, and 
 from the tone, and touch his instruments arc equal 
 to any we have heard. All the workmen are natives 
 of Ireland. — [Mail 
 
 The following verdict has been returned by the 
 jury in a case of infaticide near Dundalk: — 'We 
 find that Bridget Kindillon, Rose Kindillon, her 
 mother, and Anne Kindillon, her sister, did, on 
 Friday, 19th of November, 1858, wickedly, felonious- 
 ly and of malice aforethought, kill and murder a 
 
 female infant, the child of the above Bridget Kin- 
 dillon, and we also find that Thomas Kindillon, 
 and his daughter, Mary Kindillon, had a knowledge 
 of the concealement of the birth of the said female 
 infant.' 
 
 The Wexford Constitution says that the French 
 lugger Le Jenne Victor, of Nantes, Caplain Victor 
 Troer, has been unfortunately driven ashore at 
 Ballygrangins, near Kilmore. Finding all efforts 
 to save the vessel in vain, the captain and crew took 
 to the log-boat, and succeeded in reaching the 
 shore, but without saving even so much as a change 
 of linen. 
 
 FIVE DAYS LATER FROM EUROPE. 
 AEEIVAL OF THE PACIFIC AT ST. JOHN'S, N. F. 
 
 St. John, N. F., Dec. 22. The Galway steamship 
 Pacific, which left Galway on Thursday, the 19th inst., 
 arrived here to-day en route for New York. She 
 brings Liverpool dates of the 8th by mail, and of the 
 9th by telegraph. 
 
 The U. S. sloop-of-war Marion was at St. Vincents 
 on the 23d ult., the Macedonian at Alexandria on the 
 19th, and the steam frigate Wabash at Malta on the 
 23d ult. 
 
 The troop ship Bombay had returned to Plymouth, 
 completely dismasted, and having lost overboard 12 
 of her crew. 
 
 An extraordinary general meeting of the share- 
 holders of the Atlantic Telegraph has been called for 
 the 15th of December, to consider the condition of the 
 affairs of the Company. A petition is in circulation 
 calling on government to give a guarantee on the new 
 capital necessary to prosecute the enterprise. 
 
 A collision occurred in the English Channel on the 
 4th, between the steamship Ceylon and the American 
 ship Waban, bound from Calcutta to Hamburg. The 
 latter was seriously damaged, and lost overboard the 
 chief officer and one seaman. She was subsequently 
 towed into Portland by the Ceylon. • 
 
 France. — The government has decided on allowing 
 the appeal of the Count de Montalembert to come be- 
 fore the Superior Court. 
 
 The Moniteur officially declares that the disquietude 
 as to the relations between France and Austria, caused 
 by newspaper discussions, is by no means justified. 
 
 France has concluded a treaty with Japan similar 
 to that between England and that country. 
 
 Spain. — The Queen's speeca a' the opening of the 
 Cortez says everything compatible with the national 
 dignity was being done to secure a specific solution of 
 the Mexican difficulty, but if the immediate result is 
 not obtained, the demonstrations already proposed 
 will be energetically resorted to. An address in res- 
 ponse to the speech was adopted unanimously. 
 
 Baron Humboldt is sersously ill. 
 
 Austria and Prussia are said to be negotiating 
 tor a better defensive understanding between them- 
 selves. 
 
 Ionia. — Mr. Gladstone, in a speech to the Ionian 
 Senate, said his mission was simply to inquire how 
 England can most satisfactorily discharge her obliga- 
 tions to lona. 
 
 LATEST. 
 
 The Bombay mail brings the Queen's proclamation, 
 which was read throughout India Nov. 1. It guaran- 
 tees to protect religious freedom, confirms all existing 
 treaties and rights, and offers a general amnesty to all 
 save murderers of British subjects, provided submis- 
 sion is made before the 1st of Jauunry. 
 
 Lord Derby acknowledges the receipt of a memo- 
 rial praying for aid to the Atlantic Telegraph, and 
 promises to lay it before the Commissioners of the 
 Treasury. 
 
 The Times Paris correspondent hears it was decided 
 in Cabinet Council that Montalembert "s appeal should 
 be allowed to come before the Court, but that the 
 answer to it will simply be the Emperor's pardon, 
 which it will be pleased to cover everything the penal- 
 ty imposed, and possibly the effects of the new penal 
 law. 
 
334 
 
 miSH MISCELLANY. 
 
 THE INDIAN EMPIRE. 
 
 The anxiety which for some time past haa prc- 
 ■vaileU 80 generally in this country relative lo the 
 safety ol the Indian Empire, whose arrival at Gal- 
 way was 80 long overdue, is now happily allayed, 
 the gallant vessel having anchored in Broadhaven 
 at nine, A.M., on Friday morninj;, '.iUth ult., after 
 having experienced one of the most tcrritic and 
 continuous storms that has ever been witnessed in 
 the Atlantic. The gratitication which all persons 
 must feel at learning the safety of a ship respecting 
 ■which such fearful apprehensions had been entertain- 
 ed will be enhanced in the minds of Irishmen by the 
 fact that the steamer nhose safe arrival we chioiiido 
 is one belonging to the newly establi.'hcd transat- 
 lantic line, whose prosperity is such lively interest 
 to the Irish people of this country. The arduous 
 and dangerous passage which the Indian Empire 
 has successfully accomplished, under the most ad- 
 verse circumstances, lasted, in all, twenty-five days 
 from Halifa.x to Ireland. We have gleaned the fol- 
 lowing particulars of this interesting voyage, which 
 will satisfactorily account for the delay : — 
 
 ' Having taken in a fresh supply of coals, and re- 
 paired some trifling damage which had been sus- 
 tained by a collision with a brig on leaving New 
 York harbor, the Indian Empire, having then si.\- 
 teen days' supply of coal, left llalif<i.\ on the after- 
 noon of Saturday, the 31st of October, and had a 
 tolerably favorable run to Cape Race, a distance of 
 about 500 miles. The wind was not directly favor- 
 able, being on her quarter, and the average speed 
 of the ship during this time was eleven knots an 
 hour. Upon rounding Cape Kace the wind shifted 
 dead a head, and gradually rising, blewjwith great 
 violence, which in a few days increased to a most 
 fearful hurricane. The ship gallantly struggled 
 against the violence of the wind and waves, the 
 captain displaying all the resources and skillful and 
 experienced seamanship, and being ably seconded 
 by his officers and ciew, who had the most implicit 
 reliance in his ability and judgment. Of course, 
 progress was scarcely possible under the circum- 
 stances, and after thirteen days of such weather as 
 has rarely been experienced in the Atlantic, even at 
 this season of the year, the captain found himself 
 still four days' voyage from Galway. Upon calcu- 
 lating the amount of coal which still remained on 
 board, and finding that it was barely sufficient for a 
 four days' run, he thought it expedient to lie to 
 rather than incur the risk of expending all his fuel 
 in an unavailing struggle against the elements. At 
 this time there was a fair prospect of more favorable 
 ■weather; the barometer was rising, indications of a 
 change were apparent, and, moreover, it is an un- 
 precedented thing for a south-easterly wind to last 
 three weeks in the Atlantic, especially at this season 
 of the year, when westerly winds more generally 
 prevail. Ilowever, the expectation of tine weather 
 was not fulfilled; the wind still continued high, and 
 the Indian Empire lay to seven days, during which 
 time she made a little headway. At the end of 
 seven days there was a lull, and the captain gave 
 orders to steam a-head, in the hope of completing 
 the passage without further difficulty. In a short 
 time, however, the wind again sprung up and 
 increased almost to its former violence. At one 
 time — on Wednesday last — the Indian Empire 
 reached within twenty-five miles of theGalway coast, 
 running at the rate of two and a half knots an hour 
 against a heavy sea, when the gale increasing in 
 Tiolenee drove her a distance of 100 miles away to 
 the westward. The prudence and foresight of Cap- 
 tain Courtenay in having lain to for seven days was 
 then made manifest, for at this time the coals had 
 been completely exhausted, and it became neces- 
 sary to consume a small portion of the cargo, con- 
 sisting of cotton, stores, &p., and also some spars 
 and part of the planking of the decks. At half-past 
 one on the morning of Friday, the lights of Broad- 
 
 liaven vren sighted, and we need not say that every 
 one on board experienced the keenest delight at th<« 
 approaching termination of their long and difficult 
 voyage, llroadhaven, as is well know, is an 
 excellent harnor on the coast of Mayo, about forty 
 miles from Westport; and eight hours after its 
 lights were sighted, the Indian Empire dropped her 
 anchor in the harbor, amidst the hearty cheers of 
 the passengers and crew. It is gratifying to be 
 able to state that at no time — even during the 
 greatest violence of the gale — did the passengers 
 manifest the slightest alarm or apprehension. Their 
 confidence in the captain, officers and crew never 
 for a moment failed, and they took frequent occa- 
 sion during the voyage to give expression to this 
 feeling. They knew that everything which skill 
 ond judgment could do would be effected to bring 
 the vessel in; and their confidence was increased by 
 the good qualities displayed by the ship, which 
 excited the admiration alike of the experienced and 
 the inexperienced. The manner in ■which the 
 Indian Empire stood the severe test to which she 
 was subjected, proves her to be an excellent sea 
 boat, well adapted for Atlantic navigation. No 
 more convincing proof of this could be afforded 
 than the fact that she shipped one sea only during 
 the whole passage. Captain Courtenay, who has 
 had large experience as an Atlantic navigator, states 
 that the weather was unprecedented in its combina- 
 tion of violence and duration. Several wrecks have 
 already been reported, and it is greatly to be feared 
 that a great number of casualties must have oc- 
 curred in the Atlantic, as vieU as along our own 
 coasts. The Indian Empire fell in with large quan- 
 tities of floating wreck during her voyage. On 
 Monday last she spoke the ship Silistria 115 days 
 from Callo.' 
 
 A LITERARY OMNIBUS DRIVER. 
 
 The New York correspondent of the Charleston 
 Courier relates the following biography of an omni- 
 bus driver, whose acquaintance he made during a 
 night ride on one of the lines in that city : — 
 
 'Talking as two people will naturally do when 
 journeying together, it was impossible not to notice 
 that the driver of the car had seen better days, and 
 had pursued very different avocations. The comet 
 was blazing away in the western sky. This fur- 
 nished a topic of conversation. Instead of trying 
 to illuminate the driver on the causes, condition 
 and theories of these celestial visitors, I learned 
 that he knew more about them than I did. lie 
 went beyond this topic, and began to discourse on 
 meteorology, astronomy generally, mathematics, 
 &c. His wonderful learning, the extent and 
 thoroughness of his reading, almost bewildered me. 
 But my surprise could not be imagined when, in 
 illustration of some thought, this driver of an 
 avenue car quoted a line from Virgil. Horace, too, 
 afterwards finished one or two sententious sayings 
 of the educated driver. 
 
 It was a Very natural desire, but a very delicate 
 matter, to learn the history of such a person. 
 Slowly and timidly the fact came cut. He had been 
 in,betier circumstances. Though never a student at 
 any college, he had used every advantage that 
 offered, and grasped at the fruits of knowledge 
 wherever they hung in the garden of his experience. 
 At first, in mercantile business, he had been swin- 
 dled by a partner, and left almost without a penny. 
 He made another effort and went on swimmingly 
 for a while. In an hour of sunshine he got married. 
 The crisis of last full came, and again everything 
 was swept aw ay; and instead of standing alone upon 
 the desolate shore of life, he had another to li'ok 
 after and care for, even more helpless than himself. 
 The thoughts of his wife being left to penury and 
 misery buoyed him to do anything to spare these 
 afflictions. 
 
 Tliere were siveral kinds of employment at which 
 
 he could liiBke a small pittance, though many of 
 them were precarious. As a driver on a public car 
 ho was sure of $1.50 n day, though the business 
 was laborious, and to him almost degrading. But 
 even these objections had no terrors for him, when 
 he thought of her whom he had pledged to protect. 
 And every day, from eleven in the morning till 
 twelve o'clock at night, this accomplished driver is 
 making his trips up and down the Sixth avenue, 
 taking his five cent fares with the equanimity of a 
 philosopher. I wonder if the persons who travel 
 with him ever imagine that the Jehu over their 
 heads could instruct them in the classics, or unfold 
 to them his wonderful stores of knowledge. This 
 is no romance. The facts were derived from the 
 driver himself, and it is another instance of what 
 man could do, however low he may have got down 
 in the world, if he only makes up his mind to con- 
 quer or to die-' 
 
 A NECRO DISCUSSION ABOUT ECCS. 
 
 Geneva, the lovely village on Seneca Lake, furnishes 
 the following specimen of parliumentery ruling : In the 
 fairest village of Western New York, the ' culled pus- 
 sons,' in emulation of their white bicthern, formed a 
 debating society, for the purpose of improving their 
 minds by the discussion of instructive and entertain- 
 ing topics. The deliberations of the society were pre- 
 sided over by a venerable darkey, who perfermed Ws 
 duties with the utmost dignity pecaliar to his color. 
 The sulject for discussion on this occasion was, 
 ' Which am de muddei of the chicken, de hen wot lay 
 de epg, or de hen wot hatches de chicken 1 ' The 
 question was warmly debated, and many reasons, pro 
 and con, were urged and combatted by the excited dis- 
 putants. Those in favor of the latter proposition were 
 evidently in the miijority, and the president made no 
 attempt to conceal that his sympathies were vfith 
 the dominant party. 
 
 At length an intelligent darkey arose from the mi- 
 nority side, and begged to state a proposition, to this 
 effect : ' Spose,' said he, ' dat you sot one dozen duck's 
 eggs under a hen, and dey hatch, which am de mudder, 
 de duck or de hen ? ' 
 
 This was a poser, was well put, and nonplussed the 
 other side, even staggering the president, who plainly 
 saw the force of the argument, but had committed 
 himself too far to yield without a struggle, so, after 
 cogitating and scratching his wool a few moments, a 
 bright idea struck him. Rising from his chair in all 
 the pride of conscious superiority, he announced — 
 ' Ducks am not before de house ; chickens am do 
 question ; derefore, I rule de ducks out ! ' And do it 
 he did, to the complete overthrow of his opponents. 
 
 VARIOUS ITEMS. 
 
 A mi..ister repeating the first line or so of a chap- 
 ter in the Bible, the clerk, by some mistake or other, 
 read it after him. The clergyman read as follows: 
 
 ' Moses was an austere man, and made atonement 
 for the sins of the people.' 
 
 The clerk, who could not exactly catch the sen- 
 tence, reported thus : — 
 
 * Moses was an oyster man, and made oinment for 
 the shins of his people." 
 
 ' Put out your tongue a little further,' said a phy- 
 sician to a female patient; ' a little further, ma'am, 
 if you please — a little further still.' 
 
 • Why, doctor, do you think there is no end to a 
 woman's tongue r' cried the fair invalid. 
 
 Ci-EnickL Punning. — Parson Twiss, of New 
 Hampshire, had just married a lady whose Christian 
 name was Desir'-, and it being in his course of re- 
 mark on a certain Sabbath to illustrate tJie differ- 
 ence between the renewed and unrenewed man in 
 the exercise ot love, he delivered himself, to the 
 amusement of his audiertce, in this way; ' Formerly 
 I had no Desire to love, but now I have a Desii« to 
 love and I love, freely.' 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 §35 
 
 ADVERTISEMENTS. 
 
 MERCANTILE AND WRITING SCHOOL, 
 
 E. J. GLEESON, Mastkr. 
 
 Tins School is now opened at Xo. 23 I'onTLANB Street, 
 a ftw doors south of Dooley's Exchnngo Hotel, where a 
 B«Iect and limited number of the Youth ot both sexes wil 
 be admitted ; time from 9 A. M. to 12 II., and from 2 r. M. 
 to 6 P.M. 
 
 TERMS MODERATE. 
 
 EVFNING SCHOOL! 
 
 This school will be opened in the same place on the flrst 
 evening of next month, where adults and those of riper 
 yenrs, will be carefully and assiduously instructed in the 
 various branches of learnin°^, suitable to their calling. 
 
 BOOK-KEEPING: 
 
 Mr. Gleeson ventures to say, and pledges himself without 
 hesitation, that he will qualify young gentlemen for the 
 Counting Room, in half the time that is consumed in simi- 
 lar institutions in tliis city, and at considerable less ex- 
 pense. 
 
 August 17th, 1S58. flug28 
 
 FINE READY MADE CLOTHmQ 
 
 SPfilNG OVERCOATS, 
 
 BUSINESS COATS, 
 
 FROCK Ai^D DRESS COATS, 
 
 PANTS AND VESTS, 
 Good, Sttush, Well Made Garmemts, 
 Such as men of taste and good judgment will wear, can at 
 all times be found at our store. 
 Our aim is to produce for our customers the best Ready 
 Hade Garments at the lowest possible prices eor 
 CASH. 
 
 Readers of this Journal are earnestly solicited to exam- 
 ine our goods before purchasing. 
 
 J W. SMITH & CO., 
 
 Dock Square, ooenkb Elm Street. 
 my 11 tf 
 
 SOUTH END CATHOLIC BOOK STORE, 
 
 And Depot for the Sale of the 
 
 AIETROPOLITAN AND YOUTHS' MAGAZINES. 
 
 WILLIAM KEATING, Agent, 
 
 8 1-2 Harrison Avenue, or at his New Periodical Store, 176 
 
 Harrison Avenue, Boston, Mass., 
 
 "Where a great variety of the most popular Books and 
 
 Papers cam be had at the very lowest prices, 
 
 WILL supply Clubs, Agents, Canvassers, &c.. on the 
 same terms as the Publishers. The following are 
 the terms— 3 copies will be sent bv mail, to one address, tor 
 one year So; 6 copies for SIO; 13 copies for S20; 20 copies 
 for 930. 
 
 \0=- On the receipt of S3, three copies of the Catholic 
 Youth's Magazine and one copy of the Metropolitan will 
 be mailed regularly for one year. 
 
 or?* A few sets of the Magazines from the beginning, can 
 be bad of the Agent. Also, all new books furnished ae 
 soon as published. ap24 3mos 
 
 J. & R. MURPHY, 
 
 MANUFACTtJRERS OP 
 
 SXTRGICAL AND DENTAL INSTRUMENTS- 
 CUTLERY, 
 AND STEEL AVORK OF EVERY KIND, 
 A'o. 3 HARVARD PLACE, (opposite the Old South,) 
 
 BOSTON, Mass. 
 tt^Cutlery and Instruments of all kinds Repaired, 
 ly aug2S 
 
 GENERAL TICKET OFFICE 
 
 — FOR THE — 
 
 SOUTHERN AND WESTERN STATES 
 
 AND 
 
 TUE CAXADAS, 
 
 No. 2 ALBAKT STKF.ET, BOSTON. 
 
 EDWAKD EYAN, Agent. 
 
 N. B.— Passage to and fVom Liverpool, and Bills of Ex- 
 change on England, Ireland and Scotland. 
 
 ap24 ly 
 
 G 
 
 ILMOKEs SALK.M yllADUILLE BAND. E. Ul'- 
 Ton, Jr., Prompter. Apj ly to P. S. Gilmobb Es- 
 
 sex Uuuse, Salj£M, Mafts. 
 
 ADVERTISEMENTS. 
 
 OLD COLONY HOUSE. 
 
 PATRICK HOLLY ben? have to announce to his pat- 
 rons and tlie public K^ni'mlly that ho has constantly 
 on hand at his old and ^vcll-known stiiud, 
 
 THE OLD COLONY HOUSE, 
 
 CORNER OF KKEELAND AND SOUTH STREETS, 
 
 A CHOICE ABSOHTMIIKT OF 
 
 BRANDIES, WINES, SCOTCH & IRISH 
 
 WHISKEY, CIGARS, &o. &c., 
 
 all ot the very first quality, which can be obtained too at 
 
 LOWER RATES 
 
 than elsewhere in the market; in proof of which he invites 
 purchasers to give him a call. aug 28 
 
 NOKTHERN HOUSE, 
 
 KOKTH SQUARE— BOBTON. 
 
 JOHN GLAIs'CX FnoPRiKTOK. 
 
 This House has rooms equal to any first class Hotel, and 
 perifianent or transient Boarders can be accommodated 
 nearly one half cheaper than at any other House in the 
 City. 
 
 In the Reading Room can be found all the morning and 
 evening papers, and periodicals of the day, together with 
 an extensive Library, tbr the free and exclusive use of 
 the Boarders. 
 
 N. B. Strangers visiting Boston, can always find this 
 House a Home. 
 
 DO'ROUllKE, respectfully informs his friends and the 
 . public, that he keeps constantly on hand COFFINS 
 of all sizes and kinds, at hi? Cothn Manufactory, No. 347 
 Federal, between Beach and Kneelaud Streets, Boston, 
 which he will sell as reasonable as can be bought at any oth- 
 er place in the city. 
 
 N. B.— Orders punctually attended to, day or night. 
 
 Residence, No. 28 South street, Boston. 
 
 [C?*0 rave-Clothes furnished to order at short notice. 
 
 febl3 
 
 TURKEY SALVE 
 
 HEALS ULCERATED SORES, FELONS, 
 Burns, Whitlow, Palm Abscess, skin or water Scrofu- 
 la, Ulcerated Sore Legs, Bruises, Chapped Hands, Ulcers in 
 the Neck, Scald Head in Children, Frosted Feet, Sore Nose, 
 Boils, Bleeding Files, Ulcerated Sore Breast, Sore Nipples, 
 Inflamed Breasts made to supperate in twelve hours, with- 
 out a resort to the ' knite.' There is no Salve before the 
 public so powerful as this, being eutirely made from the 
 strongest herbs, roots and barks. It can be reduced so as 
 to be applied to a child one week old, or be made strong 
 enough to dress an ulcer every half hour, even after morti- 
 fication sets in, so that this salve will do more good in one 
 day than all others in one week. 
 
 N. B.— I give my entire attention to healing Ulcerated 
 Sores, and warrant a perfect cure, failing in which 1 make no 
 charge. Mymottois, 'No cure no pay.' Charges moder- 
 
 d41m 
 
 FRANCIS F. SPRING. 
 
 18 High street, Boston, 
 
 FRANCIS GODFREY, 
 
 IMFORTFJl AND RESTORER OF 
 
 ITALIAN PAINTINGS^ 
 
 AND MANUFACTURER OF GILT FRAMES, 
 
 12 Franklin Street, Boston. 
 
 0:7* EngraviDgs, Lithographs, Crayons, &c., on sale. 
 
 3m aug28 
 
 P . MORRIS, 
 
 APOTJIECARY^ 
 
 Comer of Federal and Purchase streets, foot of Summer 
 
 street, Boston. 
 
 STRICT personal attention paid to compounding Phvsi 
 cian'8 Prescriptions. A choice nck'clion of Family 
 Medicines couatautly on hand. A well siilected stock of 
 eenuiuc imported J'crfumury and Fancy Goods. Soda 
 Water with choice Syrnps. A large assortment of genuine 
 Havana Segars constantly on baud. apG 
 
 ADVERTISEMENTS. 
 
 THE IRISH VINDICATOR. 
 
 A WEEKLY NEWSPAPER, 
 
 The BKax and Cheapest Pijblished in America. 
 
 THIS splendid Paper, which is little over nine months 
 u existence, has met with the 
 
 Mv> WONDERFUL SUCCESS, 
 
 and has been prL/iiwuncd by the Press and the Public to b« 
 superior to any other Irish Weekly In the United States. 
 
 It contains each week, the very 
 
 Latest News from evkry County in Ireland ; 
 
 Original and entei-taining 
 
 STORIES AND ANECDOTES, 
 and a variety of Miscellaneous Reading matter, of a charao- 
 ter which cannot fail to elevate and chasten the intel- 
 lectual appetite. The Irish Vindicator is devoted 
 
 TO THE INTERESTS OF IRISHMEN IN AMERICA, 
 and is so cheap as to be within the reach of the poorest. 
 
 ONLY THREE CENTS A COPY. 
 
 THE FOLLOWING ARE THE TERMS 
 
 To any part of the United States, for one year, SI. 50 
 
 Do. do. |do. for 8 months, 1.00 
 
 Do. do. do. for 4 months, 0.50 
 
 Do. do. do. fori month, 0.13 
 
 To any part of Canada or the British I'rovincea, one year 
 
 $2,00— All payments in advance. 
 
 FOR ADVERTISING, 
 
 12 lines, single insertion ®1.00 1 12 lines, 1 month, $2.60 
 12 do. 3 months, 5.50 j 12 do. 1 year, 16.00 
 
 Published every week, at the Office, No 10 Spruce street 
 New York, by the Proprietors. 
 
 EDWARD DOWNES CONNERY & CO. 
 
 New York, march 27 
 
 THE SOUTHERN CITIZEN, 
 
 TS published weeklv at Knoxville, Tennessee, by JOHN 
 MITCHELL & WM. G. SWAN, at S2 per annum, or 
 $1 for SIX months, payable invariably in advance. 
 
 Mr. Mitchell having commeneed in the 28th number of 
 the paper, a series of Letters addressed to the Hon. Alex- 
 ander H. Stephens of Georgia, which when completed will 
 furnish an entire history of 
 
 THE IRISH TROUBLES OF 1848, 
 
 With their Causes and Consequences, 
 
 The Southern Citizen will be the more interesting to both 
 American and Irish readers. Besides these contributions 
 from Mr. Mitchel, the Southern Citizen will continue to 
 have its usual quantity of original matter upon political 
 and literary subjects prepared by him. The circulation, 
 though large and constantly increasing, the proprietors 
 have thought will be much more extended by an announce- 
 ment in this form. 
 
 Communications with remittances may be addresedto 
 Mitchel & Swan, Knoxville, Tennessee, or to any of the 
 following Agents: 
 
 S G Courteuay & Co, Charleston, S C ; Thomas B O'Con- 
 nor, Savannah, Ga; J C Morgan, New Orleans, La; Jas A 
 Gentry, Richmond, Va; Alexander Adam^on, Washington 
 city; Tallinage& Tunner, Cincinnati, O; PM Haverty, 110 
 Fulton street, N Y; S H Goetzel, 33 Dauphin street. Mobile 
 Ala; Benj B Davis, Masonic Building, Montgomery, Ala; 
 
 Ross & Toucey, 121 Nassau street, N 1, supply" dealers only 
 
 -' ' - n,mKe; 
 San Francisco. 
 
 uable terms: James McGinn 
 
 [ Kearney street 
 Clubs of ten will be supplied with the paper for S15. 
 
 CLUBS! CLUBS!! CLUBSI!! 
 
 There is no town or village so small, but a club of six or 
 more subscribers for the Irish Miscellany can be easily ob- 
 tained. Will those of our friends who are well-wishers ot 
 the land of their birth, do us the favor of getting up Clubs. 
 Our terms will be — 
 To aclub of six persons sent to one address, S10,00 
 
 To a club of twelve, ' 19,00 
 
 The whole of the money must invariably be sent at'one 
 remittance, and in advance. 
 
 Let all our friends exert themselves, and by their 
 patronage make the Miscellany the foremost Irish jouma 
 on this continent. 
 
 TRAVELLING AGENTS WANTED. 
 
 We have determined to appoint a number of Travelling 
 Agents, to travel in the various States of the Union and 
 canvass for subscribers for this paper We do this at the 
 earnest request of many warm friends, who think we do 
 not take the requisite steps to make the paper known as ex- 
 tensively as it ought to be. 
 
 Persons desirous of becoming Travelling Agents, who 
 can be well recommended, are requested to ajiply at our 
 oflice forthwith. None but faithtul, reliable men need ap 
 ply. To such a liberal commission will be allowed. Apply 
 at our Publication OITice, 4 Water street. Boston. 
 
 Back NuMnicns ol the Miscellany, from the commence 
 mt-ntofthe paper, may be procured through any of our 
 regular agents, or by sending direct to the oirice of publi-' 
 cation, No. 16 Franklin street, Boston. Will our tlriends in 
 waut bear this fact in mind? 
 
336 
 
 IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 A VISIT TO STOUOHTON. 
 
 Laat weik wc Jropiieil in amongst the jolly sons of 
 St. Crispin, in the neat little town of Stoughton, and 
 saw ftienJs we had not seen for some time. This town, 
 •s does Kandolph, presents to the observer a bu.«y 
 scene of New England industry, for every house, from 
 cellar to attic, is occupied by the jolly sons and deci- 
 plcs of tlie above-named royal saint. We believe every 
 man, woman and child in Stoughion is a boot maker. 
 Even the clergymen, wo understand, manufacture 
 boots ; and having occasion to call into the Post Of- 
 6ce, we found, in the democratic and accommodating 
 incumbent, as we thought, the veritable saint himself, 
 for, lo and behold! there he sat, all in his glory, part of 
 the bench upon which he worked being his principle 
 department from which he dispensed the latest news, 
 buch is democracy, whoso maxim is — 
 
 ' Honor and shame from no condition rise, 
 Act well your part, there all the honor lies.' 
 
 To those who love to traduce the Celt, we would 
 say go to Sioughton ; sec our people there ; see 
 the prints of their industry in their tasty, clean and 
 comfortable houses, which are all their own. Wo have 
 heard of men who are but a very few years in the 
 country and now own houses, and live in all the com- 
 fort which industry can procure. 
 
 An obliging friend pointed out a whole street occu- 
 pied and owned hy our people, who must feel an inde- 
 pendent pride when they step from their workshops 
 into their houses Nor must we forget the ' Catholic 
 country' and the generous souls who dwell there. 
 This is a large plain, which is interspersed with neat 
 cottages, and receives the above ' nom de plume' from 
 the fact that none but Roman Catholics live there ; it 
 reminded us of home, for the ' cead mille faulte ' with 
 which we were received brought to our minds the 
 greener sward and prettier brook of our native village, 
 and the generous hearts of our more than hospitable 
 country people. 
 
 Ucttcctions will come, and we asked ourselves shall 
 we ever see that home again ? Are we to roam for- 
 CTer as strangers in a strange land ? No I a thousand 
 no's 1 That Supreme Being who does everything for 
 his own wise purposes is reversing the wheel, and the 
 day is not far distant when the haughty British oli- 
 garchy will tumble to the ground groaning under the 
 weight of iu dark and iniquitous deeds. But we have 
 digressed, thinking of Ireland and her wrongs, and 
 forgot Stoughton, the plains, and ' Catholic country.' 
 We return the Stoughton boys our sincere thanks for 
 the many kindnesses thown us, especially the Dunn 
 family and Mr. E. Cushing. The latter kindly vol- 
 unteered to pass us round among the boys, whom we 
 hope to have the pleasure of seeing ere Patrick's day, 
 thereby redeeming our promises. J. w- 
 
 Wb witness with much satisfaction the improve- 
 ments announced in the programmes of our older 
 and better known contemporaries. We heartly 
 wish them all success, and many more readers, and 
 at the end of the year they may be able to announce 
 an unprecedented prosperity. We cannot, as they 
 do, announce the commencement of a new volume. 
 Our first year expires in February, when we hope 
 to make our bow, and receive the approbation of 
 the Irish people in the United States. 
 
 ADVERTISEMENTS 
 
 Mn. JIcGee's Lecture. — This lecture was re- 
 plete with truths of vast importance to the Irish 
 race, pointing out their errors as well as their nat- 
 ural ability and power to excel. We will, in a fu- 
 ture number, refer to some good advice he gave, 
 while we regret he had not the house we anticipa- 
 ted, owing to the approach of holidays, which de- 
 iitand the attention of our people to meet. 
 
 ■ Mb. James Sullivan, our travelling agent will 
 visit Birmingham, Waterbury, Southington, and 
 adjacent towns, about the commencement of New 
 year's, where he hopes to double ti» list of sub- 
 scribers for the Miscellany. 
 
 PASSAGE KEDUCED BETWEEN 
 
 LIVERPOOL AND BOSTON 
 
 MERCHANTS' LINE 
 
 BOSTON AND LI\'EliPOOL PACKETS; 
 
 BAILIXO »KOM HVEHPOOL DIBECT TO DOSTOM EVEKT 
 FlITEEJi DAYS. 
 
 THE SPLENDID rACKlCl'S comprising this line arc as 
 follows:— 
 
 Ships. Tons. C»pt«in8. 
 
 C0.V.M0DORE- • - - 1800 lilius 
 
 (AiiLYLK 2U00 Maxwell 
 
 SUAWMUT - . . . KXIO Jlljrglns 
 
 Mo.NOol.lA - . - . ItKIO Mclclier 
 
 Tno»- jEFFKnSOM - 15U0 Hill 
 
 WaltkuScoit - - I8IJO Smith 
 
 I'KiACKSs lioYAL - - 2000 Hartley 
 
 KiciiAKi) M0K8E - - 1500 DInsmore 
 
 TuALArrA - - - - ITiJO StinBon 
 
 C'AsiimiA . - - - 1S60 ------ I'erry 
 
 I'OL'AHONTIS - - - I711O Dcland 
 
 KuFUS Choate - - 1500 - - . - - - Uich 
 Tlie.se ships are all of the first class, mostly new, and built 
 expresiily lor the Liverpool trade; spucious between decks, 
 well ventilated, with ail the modern improvements lor the 
 comloi-t, liealth and safety of passengers. They are com- 
 manded by American Captains of known experience and 
 kindness, who will carefully look to all the wants of the 
 passengers during ILe voyage. 
 
 Each ship will be furnished with proper Medical atten- 
 dance. 
 
 IVrtons sendirg tor their friends in the Old Country can 
 DEPEND on having them ordered up promptly tor the 
 FiusT 8UIP8, and at such times us will prevent their being 
 detained in Liverpool, aa is often practiced by the other 
 lines. 
 
 RATES OF PASSAGE 
 from Liverpool to Boston (including provisions): — 
 For persons 12 years of age, and over, . - . »18 DO 
 
 For children under 12 years, 14 00 
 
 For infants under 1 year, at time of embarkation, 3 00 
 
 REMITTANCES. 
 Bills of E.KChange on England, Ireland, Scotland, "Wales 
 and Germany, for sale in sums to suit. 
 
 I'assengers forwarded weekly to all parts of Europe by 
 Steam and Sailing vessels. 
 
 PAGE, RICHARDSON & CO., 
 
 114 State street, Boston. 
 
 IE?- For PASSAGE CERTIFICATES from and to Liver- 
 pool, and Bills of Exchange, or for any information as 
 above, apply personally or By letter to 
 
 LAWRENCE S: RYAN, Agents, 
 
 n271y No. 41 Broad street, Boston. 
 
 CATHOLIC BOOK STORE. 
 
 WILLIAM HICKEY, Catholic Bookseller, and Agent 
 for the Extensive Publishing House of D. & J. 
 Sadlieu & Co., of New York. 
 The latest and most varied stock of Religious Prints, 
 MISSALS, PRAYER BOOKS, CROSSES, 
 and all the Current Literature, constantly on hand. 
 
 No. 12S Federal (corner of Williams) street, 
 BOSTON, MASS. 
 
 IMPORTANT TO HOUSEKEEPERS! 
 
 J _ FORD 1°8 Federal Street, 
 
 "T) ESPECTFULLY informs his friends and the public 
 XV that he continues to offer for sale a large and select 
 assortment of 
 
 GROCERIES, 
 
 Consisting of TEAS, SUGARS, COFFEES, SPICES, &0. 
 
 — ALSO — 
 
 CHOICEST WINES, LIQUORS AND CIGARS 
 
 Wholesale and Retail. 
 
 THE BEST FAMILY FLOUR CONSTANTLY ON HAND. 
 The subscriber's long experience enables him to sell to the 
 purchaser's advantage, and it is his uudeviating aim to pro- 
 duce a better article than can be found elsewhere for the 
 same price. He is, therefore, confident that those favoring 
 him with their patronage will receive every satisfaction, and 
 find his goods are sold extremely low for cash. lydll 
 
 TEN READY WAYS TO MAKE MONEY, being ten 
 original receipts for the manufacture of useful arti- 
 cles, which command a quick sale, and insure a full pocket. 
 Formerly sold for So; but now sent to any person for one 
 colli dollar. Address T L. KEILLY, Peace Dale, R. I. 
 al8 6t 
 
 A WILLIAMS & CO., Wholesale Agents, for the luiSH 
 . MiscIlLLAny. The Tiadc supplied with Books, Pe- 
 riodicals and Newspapers. Special Agents for Harper & 
 Brothers Publications. No. 100 Wash.'ugton street. 
 feb20 BosTOir. 
 
 ADVERTISEMENTS. 
 
 TREANOR t GVINEY. ATTORNEYS AST) COUT-'SEL- 
 LOUS AT LAW, 15 Massachusetts Block, Court square, 
 Boston. 
 [C^Farticular attention paid to Conreyanoing, and tht 
 xamiaatien of titlM of BmU X«tat«. febl 
 
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 DOWN ABBEY. 
 
 This was the first church erected in Ireland by 
 the blessed apostle and patron, St. Patrick. He 
 founded the 'Abbey of Saul in 432, and shortly 
 afterwards an 'Abbey of Canons Regular,' nearthe 
 ancient Doon or Fort, the site being granted to 
 him for the purpose by the chieftain of the Dal- 
 dechu, whom he had converted to Christianity. 
 
 To it, as to the centre of Christianity in the island, 
 many holy men flocked from all parts of ihe world, 
 and erecting houses of their orders, filled the whole 
 neighborhood with monastic institutions. In his- 
 torical records, accordingly, we find mention of the 
 ' Priory of Canons Regular,' 'Priory of St. Johnthe 
 Baptist,' 'Abbey of Cistercian Monks,' 'Cistercian 
 Convent,' and ' Franciscan Friars.' St. Patrick 
 presided over these religious houses.until his death, 
 in 493, and was interred in the Abbey, in which 
 were subsequently deposited the remains of St. 
 Bridget and St. Columba. 
 
 The remains of the three saints having been discover- 
 ed by Sir John De Courcy, in the 12th century, were, 
 by a ' Bull ' obtained from Pope Urban III., 
 translated, and placed within its hollowed pre- 
 cincts. 
 
 Besides the Abbey and Prtory founded by St. 
 Fattick, there were also the Priory of St. John the 
 
 Baptist, founded by De Courcy for cross bearers of 
 the order of St. Augustine, and an Abbey of Cis- 
 tercian monks, both founded in the 12th century; a 
 Franciscan friary founded by Hugh De Lacy, or 
 some say by Africa, daughter of Godred, King of 
 Man, and wife of De Courcy, as well as an hospital 
 for lepers, dedicated to St. Nicholas. Of these 
 establishments there are, alas! now no traces. The 
 Abbey, 100 feet in length, contained a centre aisle 
 26 feet broad, and two side aisles 13 feet wide each; 
 its roof was supported by five handsome arches, 
 whose tops, as well as those of the pillars and win- 
 dows, were adorned with a variety of sculptured 
 stone. Three niches were over the lofty east win- 
 dow, in which, for a long while, the pedestals still 
 continued, whereon it is supposed statutes of St. 
 Patrick, St. Bridget and St. Columba once rested. In 
 949, the Abbey was plundered by the Danes of 
 Dublin. In 1101, Magnus, King of Norway, was 
 here interred. In 1183, it passed from the Secular 
 Canons, whom De Courcy turned out, and replaced 
 by black monks from the Abbey of Werburgh, 
 Chester : 1316, Abbey destroyed by Lord Edward 
 Bruce ; 1.538, burnt, and the monuments of Saints 
 Patrick, Bridget and Columba (whose relics had 
 been placed in shrines within the Abbey when dis- 
 covered, in 1185, by De Courcy), were defaced 
 
 by Lord Leonard De Grey, for which, it ii 
 said, he was beheaded. In 1539, resigned by the 
 Prior to the King, and afterwards, with the immense 
 possessions belonging to it, granted to Gerald, Earl 
 of Kildare. Finally, in 1790, and still beautiful in 
 its decay, this Abbey was thrown down by Arthur, 
 the great-grandfather of the present Marquis of 
 Downshire, and nearly on its site, if not exactly, 
 was erected the present (so called) Cathedral of 
 Down. 
 
 As we gaze on this venerable and beautiful 
 specimen of ecclesiastical architecture, which, with 
 its ivy mantled walls and broken arches, up to the 
 time mentioned, formed so fine an ornament to the 
 town of Downpatrick (supposed to be the Dunum 
 mentioned by Ptolemy), how many memories of the 
 past are vividly called up in the mind ? How many 
 of this holy fane, from whose portals saints and holy 
 men of God have issued forth as from a well-spring, 
 and been scattered over the earth, spreading the 
 waters of healing to the parched nations ? And 
 how many of their successors, who ever since have 
 carried the seeds of the gospel, even by the mouths 
 of their faithful flocks, to all portions of the globe. 
 We close our description, by adting that the Round 
 Tower stood, as shown in the engraving, about forty 
 ■eet from the western end of the Abbey, 
 
 THE ABBEY OF DOWN. 
 
338 
 
 IRISH MISCL-LLA^T. 
 
 THE PRIVATE MEMOIRS OF CAPTAIN ROCK. 
 WRITTEN BT niHSELF. 
 
 [Continued.] 
 C U A f T E K IV. 
 
 UT FATUHIt, 
 
 A French Btudct being told not to indulge in 
 protracted grief for the loss of his father, as lie had 
 always proTed himsulf a dutiful son, replied, 'Alo-! 
 I thought so while my father was living, but now 
 that he is dead, I ani conscious ot having been too 
 often disobedient.' Ther« are few tons, however 
 good, who will not readily make the same admis- 
 sion; and, though distinguished for the Mliul ulfec- 
 lion, I still recollect, with pain, the many occasions 
 on which 1 deserved the anger of old Captain liuck, 
 as my father was once called at Kockglen. But he 
 has long since gone to • that bourne from whence 
 no traveller returns,' and his son has now to write 
 a brief memoir of the distinguislied services which 
 he rendered his country. 
 
 From the history of the penal laws, detailed in 
 the preceding chapter of my memoirs, the reader 
 must have seen that, at the time I was born, a 
 Catholic was incapable of purchasing estates, or 
 holding lands, farms, or houses, for a longer period 
 than thirty-one years; and, lest he might grow rich 
 on this short and precarious tenure, there was a 
 clause in the act obliging him to pay two-thirds ol 
 his profi 8 to the londlord, and if he should fail to 
 do so, the whole property became the prey of the 
 first Protestant informer who w as lucky or base 
 enough to bring the transaction into a court of jus- 
 tice, where there Avas, as Lord Kcdesdale said, -one 
 law for the rich and another for the poor.' 
 
 By the sameraerciful code, enacted in the Augus- 
 tan age of English literature, any one of the sons of 
 a Catholic, by professing to become a Protestant, 
 Kould not only enter upon immediate possession of 
 a large part of his father's fortune, but constitute 
 himself heir-at-law to the wliole. Thus Protestant- 
 ism calculated on increase by the indu-x of profli- 
 gate children. 
 
 My father, like his predecessors, notwithstanding 
 these diabolical statutes, continued to reside in the 
 hereditary castle of his family, and was about ad- 
 ding to his fortune by the purchase of a small 
 estate which he intended to transfer in trust to a 
 poor neighboring Protestant, who had long made 
 himself convenient in this way to Roman Catholic 
 gentlemen, when an informer, before the deeds were 
 executed, put the proper authorities in possession 
 of the secret, and truth compels me to state that 
 this informer was ray own brother, or rather half- 
 brother, for he was by the second Mrs. Hock (sus- 
 pected of being descended from a Cromwellian 
 drummer), where my mother, the third Mrs. Hock, 
 was regular Milesian blood, being a real U'Lirien. 
 
 Diiven thus into obscure poverty, my facher 
 •wished the established church joy of its virtuous 
 convert, and look up his abode in that wild valley, 
 iince called, after him, llockglen, where I was born, 
 the son, I may say, of an Irish cottier,. for my father, 
 at this time, had joined the 'laboring train,' and 
 •upporled his family by the aweat of his brow. 
 Every condition of life has its pleasures as well as 
 its inconveniences, and old Captain Hock bore his 
 misfortunes with an air of contended dignity. His 
 two-armed oak chair stood in the right-hand corner 
 under the wicker chimney, and no monarch could 
 appear happier than the venerable chieftain while 
 relating the heroic deeds of the Kocks, the great- 
 ness of his ancestors, and the future expectations 
 which he indulged in. The schoolmaster used to 
 assist his memory in the particulars of Irish history, 
 and the travelling mendicant was a capital expound- 
 er of Columbeili's prophecies. The vagueness and 
 mysteiy in which these were expressed seemed to 
 add to the proofs of iheir au.heuticity ; and I am 
 aura, had he read Fastorini, ha would hav* rejected 
 
 him at once. Bates to prophecies are like the gift 
 bestowed on Cassandra — they prevent all from be- 
 lieving them. 
 
 His courage, tliough undoubted, was of a rather 
 singular character. lie would, when alone, or as- 
 sisted l)y my uncles and bi others, attempt cvi ii im- 
 possibiliti-.-; but, when followed by obedient thou- 
 sands, he would shrink from even a sergeant's guard. 
 Xumbcrs always proved fatal to his designs, and 
 though he was often known to retreat from a dozen 
 enemies, a whole regiment was sure to provoke him 
 to an immediate attack. In short, he was an 
 ■Irishman all over.' a denomination which e.\- 
 plains at once that singular assemblage of good 
 and strange qualities which composed his charac- 
 ter. 
 
 Prosperity, hod lie been allowed to enjoy it, 
 might have proved fatal to his reputation, for,while 
 in the possession of affluence, lie was considered a 
 very loyal man; but no sooner was he ' hurled from 
 his high estate ' than the hereditary propensities of 
 his nature quickened into activity, and he soon after 
 showed himself worthy of the name he bore. The 
 first public occasion on which he displayed his 
 talents, though attriburaole to the government, had 
 little to do with church or state, and though his 
 subsequent proceedings chiefly related to tithes, to 
 his honor be it spoken, he made his debut in insur- 
 rection, for the benetit of the poor man. 
 
 In 1762, the landlords of Munster, tempted by 
 the increasing demand for pasturage, commenced 
 enclosing those commons on which the poor man 
 had a right of feeding, and thus added to the misery 
 of those already too much disti'essed, by preventing 
 them from keeping a cow, a goat, a pig, &c. These 
 enclosures threatened to ruin thousands, until my 
 father stepped forth, and arrested the progress of 
 tyranny. Himself and followers, on this occasion, 
 took the name of Levellers, from the fact of their 
 levelling enclosures, and had scarcely cifected their 
 object when they were called to a higher sphere of 
 action, and found in the tithes system the seeds of 
 perpetual discord. 
 
 The depression of agriculture, about this period, 
 threw whole districts into pasture, and as grazing 
 ground paid no tithe, the patrons were oblighed to 
 press more heavily on the poor, who alone sowed 
 patatoes and corn. Rack-rents were bad enough, 
 but to be obliged to bear a burden of the churen, 
 which the rich had cast upon them, was too much, 
 and accordingly my worthy father stepped forth, 
 once more, to redress the poor man's grievances. 
 Being dressed in wliite shirts, his followers obtained 
 the name of Whiteboys, which long continued the 
 favorite appellation of those w'ho loved whiskey and 
 riot, and hated proctors and middlemen. 
 
 The sage was right who told Solon that laws 
 were like spiders' webs — the defenceless are caught, 
 but the great ones break though ihem. In 1735, 
 the landowners combined against the Agistment 
 tithe, formed illegal associations in every country, 
 and ultimately triumphed over the patrons. Yet 
 these wealthy Whiteboys were never punished — 
 were never condemned to get into bed at sun-set, or 
 transported without trial. Hut no sooner did the 
 cottiers, on whom the whole weight of tithes were 
 thrown, raise their voice and arms against oppression, 
 than statutes worthy of Algiers were enacted to 
 hang and banish them. On this subject I have a 
 personal feeling, and shall therefore prefer the lan- 
 guage of an Englishman, Mr. Arthur Young, who 
 was in Ireland at this period. 'Acts were passed , 
 said he, ' for their (Whiteboy.i) punishment, which 
 seemed calculated for the mercdian of Barbary. 
 This arose to such a height, that by one they were 
 to be hanged (under circumstances) without the 
 tormaliiies of a trial; which, though repealed the fol- 
 lowing scsMon, marks the spirit ol punisbnieui; while 
 others remain the law ol the laud, that would, if exe- 
 coted, tend more to ratio than to quell iDSurrecuon, 
 
 from all which it is manifest that ihe gentlcipen of 
 Irdnnd never ihouplit of a radiciil cure, from overlook- 
 ing the real cause ol di<ease, which, in fact, lay in them- 
 selves, and not in ihc wretches they doomid to the 
 gallows. Let them change their own condnei, and ihe 
 poor will not lonu rif,t. Treat tiicm like men who 
 ought 10 he as free as yourselves; |.ut an end lo that 
 sy.«tem of religious jiersecu ii.n which Ims for seventy 
 years divided the kin(.'Oom against iiself. In these two 
 circum^tBnces lies the cure of in-urrection, perform 
 tliera comphlely, and you will liave an anVciionate 
 poor, instead of opiiressed and discontentad vassals.' 
 
 This advice, though given fifty years ago, is iiill 
 applicable. ' Who,' says Congreve, ' would die a 
 mnrtyr to sense in a country where the riligiuu* ii 
 follyV 
 
 From this time lill ihe day he died he ronlirued io 
 aciive operation, both in the north and the south, for 
 the Rucks are no liigots, and care hui little who they 
 tight with, so they but fight against thu common 
 enemy. 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 IN LOVE. 
 
 The progress of my memoirs has now brooght me 
 back to my indivirlaal concerns; and thouth thu di- 
 gression was neces.sary to the right uuderstandng of 
 my 'family history,' vet I am sorry ^n having been 
 corapelkd to abseut niysell, personally, from the eyes 
 of my readers, though. 1 ke other heirs of a great name, 
 I am not a Utile pioud of the ancestors from whom I 
 spiung, porticuLrly as our gtneaological prtrchment, 
 like that of the Welshman, is renderid impel feet only 
 by the universal deluge, whm the antediluvian parti- 
 culars of the Rocks were swept awsy like other terres- 
 trial things. The geological professor at Cambridge, 
 however, entertains some hopes of recoveiing them 
 among other fossil remains, as he righ.ly thinks that 
 whatever a|)pcrtains to the Kucks must be at least as 
 "iidurable as iho memorials of chplian'S, hyenas, &c. 
 Of my laniily gieaiueos, pel hups, I have low said 
 enough, and shall proceed, without iiitei mission, lo lay 
 the particulars of my private life before the puMic. 
 In speaking of myself, I must nccessarly iuiroduce 
 oihcrs; and, as truih shall ibflcxitily guide my pen, I 
 must heg my Irish friends to weigh well the ' inles' 1 
 shall unfold. They will teach au important lesson to 
 inony of my adtjereuts, aud, as they will be accom- 
 panied with moral rcfl.ctions, I big their mostean.est 
 and sirious attention. Every msu has his faults; 1 had 
 mine; hut, certainly, I shall nut appropriate .o myself 
 all that has been aiiiibuied to me. I liave enough to 
 atone for without answering for the crimes of oihers. 
 
 Before 1 had attained tliu proper age of mantiuod, I 
 had few rivals in those gyuiuastic e.\eicises which 
 have latterly ffdlen into undeserved disrepute. 
 Hurling, foot-ball, leaping, ball-plajing, and dan- 
 cing, were the amusements ot our virtuous and 
 brave ancestors, and in the time of my boj hood, 
 they constituted he attractions of an Irish holiday. 
 These exercises were harmless and wholesomt; tiny 
 promoted good feeling by bringing the people fre- 
 quently together, and served to add new eharins to i 
 ruial life; while ihey fitted the peasant's body for I 
 the labor to which he was happily doomed. A I 
 Sunday and holiday were then hailed as harbingers I 
 of innocent mirth and rustic revelry; they were re- ' 
 gatded as different from rhe other uays of the week, 
 andthe boys and girl-, lightened their toil by antici- 
 pating these periods of relaxatiin, when the one 
 eomc forth to inspire love or applaud their sweet- 
 hearts, and the other to display their activity and 
 prowess. Wherever there is rivalij (-ays the phil- 
 osopher) there is pleasure, and I doubt if the praise 
 bestowed on patriots and scholars has ever given 
 greater sati»faetion to the object of it than that 
 showered on the conqueror in a^liurling-inatch or a 
 ball-court. 
 
 Being possessed of an active pair of feet, and a 
 ready pair of hands, I was early distinguished in 
 places of public reavxt as a young man who piom* 
 
miSH MISCELLANY. 
 
 t ■ 
 
 eed to be one of the best hurlcrs and doncers in 
 MunstiT. There were few J ouiig girls wlio would 
 not honor me with their hand on the green, and 
 fewer still who would not divest themselves of their 
 cap-riband at May or Christman, to 'decorate my 
 persun when I went a mumming. I3ut there was 
 one approving fair whose hand and smile I 
 yalucd above all the others, and as she was a 
 stranger to coquetry or disguise, I soon diseovered 
 that she took an interest in my fate that amounted 
 to something like love, though never acknowltdged 
 otherwise than by a blush when I kissed her, 
 and a visible an.xiety for my success when contend- 
 ing with my rustic competitors. You may be sure 
 I owned the 'soft impeachment,' and, of course, 
 was not backward in convincing her that her affec- 
 tions were returned. 
 
 Susan M-Mahon was about tny own age when I 
 first knew her, and, indeed, I was not a little vain 
 of her partiality, for Mu'nster could not boast a more 
 bewitching form or prettier face. In fact, she was 
 one of Nature's favorite children, and though not 
 absolutely the ' mould of fashion,' she was what 
 might be called a rustic beauty. Her dress was 
 unaffected, but neat; her manners artless and pleas- 
 ing, and though a stranger to the airs of those 
 above her, there was a natural grace in all her 
 movements. Her father was what we call cozy; 
 that is, he was a comfortable farmer, and having 
 no child but herself, it was naturally inferred that 
 whoever gained Susan's hand would inherit Mogue, 
 M'Mahon's farm, as well as the 'cool' three hun- 
 dred it was said he had buried somewhere in his 
 kitchen-garden. 
 
 Fortune-hunters are not confined to the town; 
 they abound in the country, and even simple swains 
 can sometimes play the knave as well as their bet- 
 ters. A number of these contemptible creatures 
 were continually annoying Susan, whenever she ap- 
 peared at fair or pattern, and as I was not quite 
 inaccessible to the 'green-eyed monster,' I did not 
 much approve of their attentions. Some half-dozen 
 of them I occasionally chastised; but they multiplied 
 so fast that it would have required the club of 
 Hercules to subdue them effectually. Among 
 others, there was one Tone}' Kelly, a young man of 
 good family, but who, through early dissoluteness 
 and bad habits, had acquired the significant appel- 
 lation of the 'rake.* He was to be seen at every 
 place of public resort, and was never known to quit 
 one of thera without a cut head or a broken bone. 
 By this course of folly and extravagance, he had, in 
 two years, nearly run through a large property. 
 The house and farm left him by his father he had 
 disposed of to pay the publican's bill, and then 
 went to reside on an out-farm, where a cow-shed 
 was hastily converted from its original purpose into 
 that of a temporary d«iclling-house. Its inconve- 
 nience, however, was not much felt by the rake, for 
 he spent nearly the whole of his time from home, 
 and as the sale of his remaining stock still supplied 
 him with money, he was not without companions, 
 good fellows, like himself, who helped him to 
 l^end it. 
 
 Susan was too tempting an object to escape the 
 eye of this foolish fellow; and, though she endeav- 
 ored to shun him with an instijctive sensitiveness, 
 she could not stir from home without encounte/ing 
 him. To her father's house he dare not go; but he 
 avenged himself for this prohibition by watching 
 her whenever she made her appearance abroad. 
 Generally, indeed, I was beside her, and the rake 
 had too often felt the effects of my anger to ubtrude 
 himself on one under my immediate protection; but 
 as business or duty someiimes prevented my accom- 
 panying her, he was sure to avail himself of the cir- 
 cumstance for the purpose of renewing his ' reject- 
 •d addresses.' 
 
 The Irish a rea grateful and sympathizing people, 
 •r, -when my father was hurled from grandeur and 
 
 opule*ce, they still remembered his services and 
 former state. To his family they were attentive and 
 respectful, and though inferior, in a pccuninry 
 point of view to Susan, her father never objected to 
 my circumstances. I was, in his estimation, one of 
 the 'right sort,' and as the 'arms' of the M'Ma- 
 hons were hung up over the fire-place in his little 
 sanded parlor, to prove him of gentle blood, I could 
 not think myself committing an outrage on the es- 
 cutcheon of the Rocks by an alliance with his 
 daughter. There was, therefore, nothing clandes- 
 tine in our intercourse, and we were beginning to 
 talk seriously of marriage; but, as I was then very 
 young, my father objected to an immediate union, 
 particularly as I had never yet distinguished myself 
 in the Rock line, further than in the affairs of the 
 schoolmaster. 
 
 We were young and happy, and, therefore, suf- 
 fered but little from my father'sobstinance; we had 
 to wait but a short time, and be then united for ever. 
 In the interim, however, we resolved to be as much 
 together as possible, and, therefore, I was a con- 
 stant visitor at the home of my mistress. One 
 night, while proceeding there with a quick step 
 and a light heart, I thought I heard a scream of one 
 in distress. I stopped and listened; all was as slent 
 as the full mo.on above me; but I had not proceeded 
 far when the cry again assailed me, apparently 
 much nearer. I stopped once more, and, putting 
 my ear to a hole in the road, I distinctly heard the 
 approach of horsemen. Being entirely unarmed, I 
 ttepped to one side, and, having concealed myself 
 beneath the shade of a large tree, determined to 
 wait the issue. In a few minutes the sound became 
 more audible, and presently a wild scream of unut- 
 terable anguish burst upon my ear. 'An abduc- 
 tion !' cried I to myself, starting from my place of 
 concealement, determined to rescue the unhappy 
 female, for I had ever regarded the practice, preva- 
 lent in Ireland, of carrying off girls, as one of the 
 worst and most barbarous specimens of our national 
 character. By the light of the moon I could see 
 that the party were scattered along the road, some 
 of them being considerably behind the foremost, 
 who rode double, and I quickly recognized a female 
 before him. Just as he came up, in a smart trot, I 
 seized his bridle, twisted the horse about suddenly, 
 and brought the riders to the ground. The hands 
 of the female, released from the grasp of the ruffian 
 who held them, quickly pulled a bandage from her 
 mouth, and in the first word she spoke, 1 recog- 
 nized, to my utter amazement, the voice of my 
 Susan ! Thrown off my guard by this unexpected 
 recountre, instead of snatching the pistols from the 
 author of this outrage, I seized Susan in my arms, 
 and was about impriwting a kiss on her cheek, when 
 a tremendous blow from a club brought me to the 
 ground, where I must have lain for some time sense- 
 less, for when I recovered, I found myself lying 
 in the middle of the road, without a living being 
 near me. 
 
 C n A r T E K XI. 
 
 JIY FIRST EXPLOIT IN THE TITHE DEPARTMENT. 
 
 Without waiting to ascertain whether my head 
 still continued in its old position between my 
 shoulders, I hastened to the house of old M'Mahon, 
 where I found the wretched man tied to his 
 servant hoy, and both confined to the wall that 
 usually, in Irish houses, projects between the fire- 
 place and the door. Their arms were pinioned to 
 their sides by a small cord, and their bodies closely 
 bound to the wall by means of a cart-rope passing 
 through the spy-hole, an aperture which serves at 
 once to discovur the first appearance of a visitor, 
 and hold the good woman's pipe. I quickly re- 
 lieved tlie alarmed pair from their distressing situa- 
 tion, and then learned from the poor old man, 
 whose eyes streamed with tears, that he knew none 
 of th« ruffians who had cariitd away hiii daughter, 
 
 as their faces were all blackened. Hislnmentationi 
 were deep and loud, and he ftcrned disinclined to 
 receive any consolation from my repeated assurance 
 that 1 would instantly set about recovering Susan. 
 ' Avhudusthrue !— avhudusthrue !' — exclaimed the 
 unfortunate man, ' how can you bring me back my 
 darling gi'l ? Ochone! ochonc ! why has this sor- 
 row come upon my ould hairs, or why was I re- 
 sarved for this miserable night ? Oh ! Susan t 
 Susan ! the Lord of mercy have pity on you, and 
 presarve you, my poor 'thackecn,' from all hurt 
 and harm, and restore you to your old father, before 
 he sinks in sorrow to his grave.' 
 
 So frequent were occurrences of this nature In 
 the country, that the poor man seemed in no hurry 
 to commence pursuit, and he started at me with 
 incredulity when I signified my intention of imme- 
 diately setting out after the villiana. 
 
 'They are now in the mountains,' said he, wiping 
 away a big tear with a hand hardened by sixty years 
 of toil. 
 
 'It is no matter,' I replied; ' they can be found 
 there, and I swear never to desist until Susan is re- 
 stored to her father.' 
 
 ' God bUss you, boy !' he returned, somewhat 
 composed, for the miserable readily grasp at hope. 
 I had destined her for you, Decimus, and, if you 
 can find her, such as a M'Mahon ought to be' — (a 
 tear of apprehension for the honor of his child here 
 obtruded. He shook it off, and continued) — ' win 
 her and wear her. for then you shall have her 
 father's blessing and all his hard earnings.' 
 
 I was young, ardent, and in love; romance 
 formed a part of my character, and ihoughmy soul 
 was torn by conflicting passions, there was in the 
 old man's proposal somolhing that flattered my 
 vanity; and as I hurried home to obtain assistance, 
 I considered myself little less than one of those 
 champions who, in the olden time, spent their youth 
 in the glorious task of liberating captive damsels, 
 and punishing their detainers. The spirit of revenge 
 certaintly burnt within my breast; but, for the pre- 
 sent, I gave myself wholly up to the desire of recov- 
 ing Susan. For this purpose I aroused my foster- 
 brother, Owen M'Farlanc, who now lived at Rock- 
 glen, and desired him to summon the boys. Owen 
 quickly obeyed me, for, to speak the truth, there 
 was not a lad in Munsterlonder of a bit of mischief, 
 and he reckoned on some fun this night, from the 
 agitation I was in. A wake that was held in the 
 neighborhood supplied us with help of dozen assist- 
 ants, and, by the helf a blazing faggot, held on the 
 top of a pole, a score of others made their appear- 
 ance. 
 
 No subjects in the world better understand the 
 nature of allegiance than the Rockites. They are 
 remarkable for obedience to the will of their captain, 
 when legitimately exercised; hut no sooner does hie 
 purpose become personal or private, than they cease 
 to reverencehiscommands. While employed against 
 tithe-proctors and land-pirates they never murmur; 
 but if their chieftain directs their vengeance against 
 anything but the public enemy, he can seldom cal- 
 culate on their resistance. Aware of this obstinacy, 
 I played the orator on this night, and knowing how- 
 susceptible the Irish bosom is of pity and generoue 
 feeling, I represented in glowing colors the misery 
 of old M'Mahon, and the anguish of his daughter. 
 Having worked them up into a comfortable state of 
 indignation and pity. I asked them would they not 
 assist me in recovering the lovely Susan from the 
 monsters who had carried her away. An unanimoue 
 'we will' was ihe reply, and, having armed our- 
 selves in the best manner possible, we set forward. 
 The moon was still brilliant in the blue heaven, and 
 the stars showed vividly above us. It was a night 
 calculated to put people in good humor; and, as we 
 walked ale.ng, its effects became apparent on our 
 little party— the jest, the laugh, and the song, pre- 
 vailed, and I beliavc, there was not one who felt 
 
340 
 
 [KISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 Dnhappy but myself. The first crosa-ronds remiiulcd I possible to say if cTcr the lops had been a diffiTent 
 
 HS of the business we were on, and after n few minutes 
 ronsuliaiion, we resolved to search first the house of 
 Toncy Kelly, for I had, from the beginning, suspected 
 that it was at his suit Susan had been carried away. 
 The old cowhouse, however, we found nearly deserted 
 as the eastern ruins, for nothing met our eyes but the 
 Genius of the place, a tolerably ut;ly old woman. Of 
 her master she could give no information, and she 
 made no opposition to our searching the place. Dis- 
 
 color from the vumps. Patrick hnd been once tried 
 forsheep-steuling, and twice convicted of Whiteboyisro; 
 but pot oil' eaeh time in consequence, said the cen- 
 sorions ol useful information. Certain it was that 
 imprisonment wrought a total change in his character. 
 Ho became sober and parsimonious; neglected his 
 former associates, and entered the service of a neigh- 
 boring squire, where promotion awaited him. He be- 
 came land-steward, transacted the pecuniary business 
 
 appointment is a great damper of ardour, and many [ of his employer, and finally became the tenant of an 
 
 of my friends were inclined to relinquish the la.-k 
 hopeless. 'A likely story indeed,' says one, 'that a fel- 
 low would go to the trouble of earning a hempen cravat 
 for himself by carrying off a young girl, without mak- 
 ing sure of her, any how. By my own soul, I'll en- 
 gage Father Taekera has spancelhd them together 
 afore this time o' night, or else the fellow has made his 
 own of her, in a way not dillieut to guess. Ilc'd be 
 aD Dmmadawn if be did not. 
 
 This allusion, rendered familiar to the vulgar by the 
 practice too often resorted to in cases of abduction, 
 grated on my ear like the last opening of the convict's 
 cell-door,and dreading an petition of the thoughtless fel- 
 low's insinuations, 1 desired him, if he thought as he 
 spoke, to return home, and leave to others the humane 
 task of averting from an innocent girl a calamity which 
 no man but « ruftian would patiently contemplate. 
 This had the desired etteei; the fellow was reproved, 
 and they all promised to stand by mc during the 
 night. 
 
 On our right-hand was a mountain, and on the left 
 a bog. In either of these Su.san might be concealed, 
 but in which none of us could pOssibly tell; we therefore 
 resolved to separate into two divisions, and search 
 both places at once. The party under my direction 
 repaired to the mountain, where we made strict inquiry 
 from the inma'es of every cabin that we could find, 
 but to no purpose, for they were unabh to give us any 
 intelligence. At length, despairing of success, we 
 slowly returned to the place appointed for meeting our 
 comrades, whom we found there before us, their search, 
 like on' own, having proved fruitless. The night 
 being now far advanced, we thought it better to relin- 
 quish all further proceedings until the morrow, when 
 events might aid our endeavors. A person who kept 
 a shibbecn on one side of the road was aroused, and, 
 after we had expelled the mountain air from our 
 stomachs by the admission of potheen, we proceeded 
 homewards.' 
 
 The long red and white streaks which foretell ap- 
 proaching day soon appeared in the east, as if shoot- 
 ing up like pillars from the earth, when the approach 
 of a horseman was heard. A momentary hope Hushed 
 upon me, and commanding silence, we all bivouacked 
 in the side of the ditch until the stranger came up, 
 when, springing upon him, I seized his bridle, and 
 demanded who he was, where he was going, and what 
 was his business. Instead of answering all or any of 
 these interrogations, the fellow put spurs to his horse, 
 and endeavored to force his way past me, a circum- 
 stance which considerably heightened my suspicions. 
 A blow from Owen M'Farlane's bluck-tliom stick, on 
 which there were as many nobs as there are carbuncles 
 on my Lord Norbury's nose, brought the rider to the 
 ground, and, as he cried out, 'Spare me, boys !' a wild 
 exclamation of 'ilolony, the proctor !' burst from my 
 followers. 'The villain,' said one, 'strangle him!' 
 'Shoot him!' cried another. 'Blow his brains out !' 
 advissd a third. In short, there were as many deaths 
 recommended lor Molony as there were persons pre- 
 sent, and it was with much difficulty I restrained their 
 fiuy. 
 
 Patrick Molony was five feet six inches high, of a 
 stout make, ruddy cheeks, and a grin of such expres- 
 sion that proclaimed him, in spile of his smooth tongue 
 — knave. His dress always consisted of a beaver hat, a 
 red shawl tied around bis neck for a cravat, a loose 
 blue sortout, velvpteen small-clothes, with half a yard 
 of silver chain hangiug down from his fob, and a pair 
 ef boots, 80 well and so often greased, that it was im- 
 
 extensive farm, from which he had contrived to cxptl 
 the former holder. Wealth brings consequence. 
 Patrick was now regarded as a sage, and his opinion 
 in fair and market was decisive on all disputed points. 
 The minister of the parish cast an eye upon him as 
 one qualified for his service, and Patrick embraced his 
 proi)0sal, became lithe-proctor, and grew still richer 
 by the opportunities which his employment alibrded. 
 From the wealthy he took bribes; from the poor he 
 took promissory notes, put the interest chnrged in his 
 own pocket, renewed the hill for a bonus, and at last 
 processed the UDlbriunate holder because the law ex- 
 penses fell to himself, an attorney permitting him to 
 affix his name to the legal documents. Patrick's skil- 
 ful managemtnt soon threw hundreds into distress, and 
 brought on himself the hatred of his neighbors. Grown 
 great, however, in his own opinion, ho despised the 
 censure of his equals, being considered a 'marvellously 
 proper man ' by his superiors. Instead of endeavoring 
 to pacify the angry storm that was gathering about 
 him, he increased his 'vexatious practices,' raised 
 higher than ever on ihe poor cottiers, and look lands 
 over the heads of others, whose cabins he levelled, and 
 converted their potatoe-gardens into out farms for him- 
 self and sons. His petty tyranny at length became 
 proverbial, and my father had long marked him out as 
 an object of discipline, particularly as he had latterly 
 extended the scene of his villainy by becoming tithe- 
 proctor to several of those meek followers of Jesus, who 
 fatten on the produce of the poor man's labor. On 
 the morning in question, he was on his -ivay to a distant 
 parish, for the purpose of having some hundreds pro- 
 cessed for arrear of tithes. 
 
 Such was the man whose presence excited so much 
 indignation among my friends, and I own that from 
 some specimens of his knavery, which came under my 
 inspection, I regarded him as fair game; but, ever 
 averse to the spilling of blood, except in fdir quarrel, I 
 trembled for the fate of Mr. Patrick Molony. Nothing 
 less than the anticipation of his nose and cars, at leasi, 
 seemed to satisfy his enemies; but these I saved from 
 amputation by a lucky expedient. The daylight had 
 just dawned, and enabled me to discover in an adjoin- 
 ing field an unbacked colt, which I proposed to catch, 
 and place the proctor on his back. Anything ridicu- 
 lous easily diverts Paddy from^iis purpose, and my 
 suggestion was instantly acted upon. The colt was 
 brought, and Molony, amid laughter that drowned his 
 piteous exclamations, was stripped to his shirt, seated 
 upon the animal's back, three or four boughs of white- 
 thorn placed under him for a saddle, and then tied hand 
 and foot with a hay-rope, to prevent his leaping off. 
 All things being thus arranged, the colt was let loose, 
 and way he flew with the rapidity of lightning. Dis- 
 tressed as I really felt for Susan, yet 1 could not help 
 smiling at the ridiculous figure the proctor cut going 
 through the next villages, while the people ran to their 
 doors to gaze iu amazement at the strange apparition. 
 My stratagem to save the wi etch's life had nearly 
 accelerated his death, for the auiiual, becoming furious, 
 quitted the road, dashed through the Helds,and plunged 
 into a neighboring lake, where himself and rider had 
 been drowned were it not timely interference. As it 
 was, the proctor's posteriors required a month's nurs- 
 ing. Thus ended our Irish trageuy in a farce, for — 
 
 ' So closely our whims on our miseries tread, 
 That the lauglt is awaked ere the tear can be dried; 
 
 And, ere the soft raiu-drup of pity is slied, 
 The goose plumage u( lolly cau turn it aside. 
 
 (To be Continued.] 
 
 EFFECTS OF COLD. 
 
 At a meeting of the Briiish Association, Doctor 
 Osborne read an interesting paper on the effect of cold , 
 as applied to the lungs, the stomach, and the kin. 
 He showed that there is a provision of nature, by which 
 the air in respiration, before it arrives at the nliimate 
 ramification of the bronchial tubes, is healed to such a 
 degree that, even in the coldest climates, the lungs are 
 protected against its effects. When, however, in cer- 
 tain diseases, in consequence of deficiency of nervoas 
 energy, the beat of the surfaces of the body is not main- 
 tained, then the air arrives in a cold state at the air 
 vesicles of the lungs, the result of which is torpidly of 
 circulation through their capillaiies, stagnation, and 
 death. To this he ascribes the frequent cases of sud- 
 den death oceuring in chronic ' bronchitis ' during the 
 night, when the temperature of the apartment has not 
 been secured against the vicissitudes to which our cli- 
 mate is so liable. The siomach appears to enjoy a 
 peculiar insensibility wiih regard to temperature. Thus 
 an individu al sometimes takes tea or oiher hot bever- 
 ages at a temperature of 140 or upwards, and ice at 2, 
 without cold or heat being perceived in the stomach — 
 those sensations being only felt in the passages to it. 
 When, however, ice is tnken, thirst is frequently cx- 
 perioneed, and when large draughts of cold water are 
 taken by a person over-heated, and under the depres- 
 sing influence of fatigue, then gastritis is a common 
 result. Those occurrences Dr. Osborne illustrated by 
 observations on the effects of cold as seen in the exte- 
 rior of the body, and by a comparision of these with 
 ihe experiments relating to inflammation made by Dr. 
 Alison, and reported by him at a former meeting of the 
 association. 
 
 By far the most important effect of cold is, however, 
 that which it exerts on the body when applied to the 
 skin. Of fifty-seven patients in Sir Patrick Dun's 
 Hospital, thirty-four could distinctly refer to cold ap- 
 plied in the following manner : — In twelve, wet clothes; 
 five, damp feet; three, bathing; and fourteen, eold air 
 when heated. The reason that raeterology has contri- 
 buted so little to our knowledge of the influence of the 
 atmosphere on health or disease, is, that no means have 
 been adopted to estimate its cooling power with refer- 
 ence to ourselves. In order to accomplish this object. 
 Dr. Osborne employed an instrument, which be propo- 
 sed to call a psychometer, or measurer of refrigera- 
 tion. It is simply a spirit thermometer heated to 90, 
 (that being the average of temperature of the skin), 
 and exposed to the air under any circumstances in 
 which it is desired to try it. It is then inferred that 
 the cooling power is inversely, as the time required to 
 reduce it to 80. By Dr. Osborne's observations, it ap- 
 peared that the cooling effect of a breeze at TO, is to 
 that of the air at rest at the same temperature as 5 to 
 1; and, secondly,lhat at the temperature B2, the cooling 
 effect produced by fanning is nearly as 3 to 1. From 
 the application of this instrument, it is not too much to 
 expect that much light will be thro>vn on the unhealthy 
 nature of the climates of the West Indies and of the 
 coast of Africa, with respect to which all the observa- 
 tions made with the instruments hitherto in use have 
 completely failed, and which is evidently dependent on 
 the sea and land breezes. 
 
 It appeared that the refrigerating power of walei at 
 rest at 70 was to air of the same temperature as 14 to 
 1, and that the refrigerating power of the water was 
 increased by agitation in the ratio of 24 to 15. This 
 corroborates what is well known to swimmers of the 
 benuBubing effects of moving through water. 
 
 In order to ascertain the extent of refrigeration pro- 
 duced by wearing damp clothes. Dr. Osborne com- 
 pared the time taken in cooling in air at rest at 68, by 
 the instrument covered in dry cotton wool, and by the 
 same in a damp state, and found the refrigeration 
 sustained in the latter case, to be to that in the former, 
 nearly as 5 to 1, a proportion which would be much 
 greater if the experiment were made in the open air. 
 
 DicOKNES. — A hypocritical fellow in Athens inscrib- 
 ovcr his door, 'Let nothing evil enter here.' Diogenes 
 wrote under, 'By what door does the owner come in ?' 
 
IKISB MISCELLANY. 
 
 341 
 
 [From Mrs. Ilall'e 'Ireliind.'] 
 AN IRISH WEDDING. 
 
 ♦ *#*♦« 
 
 We had scarcely passed the tunnel, 
 nd entered the rountr of Kerry, when 
 ve encountered agrciup thiit interested 
 19 greatly. On inquiry, we learned 
 hat a wedding had taken place at a 
 ottage pointed out to us, in a little 
 ;len among the mountains, and that 
 he husband was bringing home hia 
 )ride. She was mounted on a white 
 )onT, guided by as smart looking and 
 veil dressed a youth as we had seen in 
 he country ; his face was absolutely - 
 
 •adiant with joy ; the parents of the 
 jride and bridegroom followed, and a 
 ittle girl clung to the dress of the staid 
 ind sober matron, whom we at once 
 tnew to be the mother of the bride, for 
 her aspect was pensive, almost to sor- 
 row; her daughter was quitting for 
 another home the cottage in which she 
 had been reared — to become a wife. 
 We may take advantage of the oc- 
 casion to describe the ceremonies and 
 ormaliiies connected with an Irish 
 wedding, presuming, however, that a 
 very essential part of them — the drink- 
 itfg to excess ' for the honor of the 
 bride ' — has been of late essentially 
 abridged. When the match is made, it becomes 
 necessary for the bridegroom to obtain a certificate 
 from his parish priest that he is free to contract mar- 
 riage ' cum quavis similiter solata ' (it is always writ- 
 ten in Latin ) , with any woman equally free from 
 canonical bonds or impediments. 
 
 The ceremony is in Latin, what, or nearly what, the 
 church of England ceremony is in English, and the 
 priest closes it by saying ' give yonr wife the kiss of 
 peace.' A struggle often ensues for the bride's kiss 
 between some young wag of the party and the bride- 
 groom, the latter generally surrendering it good 
 hnmoredly. The priests, in some instances, discoun- 
 tenance, and in others overlook the practice. We 
 have seen a priest give a severe slap on the face to a 
 young fellow who attempted to snatch the first 
 kiss. 
 
 The time most iij favor for celebrating weddings is 
 just before Lent. The guests are alwsys numerous, 
 and consist of all ranks, from the lord and lady of the 
 manor through the intermediate grades of gentlemen, 
 squires, farmers, down to the common laborer — wives, 
 of course, included. Perfect equality prevails on this 
 occasion, and yet the natural courtesy of the Irish 
 character prevents any disturbance of social order — 
 every one keeps his place, while, at the same time, 
 the utmost freedom reigns. The dinner is, as we 
 have intimated, usually at the expense of the bride's 
 family, and as nothing is spared in procuring the 
 materials, and the neighboring gentry allow their 
 cooks, &c., to assist, and lend dinner services, &c.; 
 it is always 'got up ' in the best style. The priest 
 sits at the head of the table; near him the bride and 
 bridegroom, the coadjutors of the clergyman, and 
 the more respectable guests; the other guests occupy 
 the remainder of the table, which extends the whole 
 length of the house. 
 
 Immediately on the cloth being removed, the 
 ! priest marries the young couple, and then the bride- 
 cake is brought in and placed before the priest, who, 
 putting on his stole, blesses it, and cuts it up into 
 i small slices, which are handed round on a large 
 dish among the guests, generally by one of the 
 coadjutors. Each guest takes a slice of the cake, 
 and lays down in place of it a donation for the 
 priest, consisting of pounds, crowns, or shillings, 
 according to the ability of the donor. After that, 
 wine and punch go round, as at any ordinary din- 
 nei-party. In the course of an hour or so, part of 
 the range of tables it removed, and the musicians 
 
 ^^- 
 
 THE 'DRAWING HOME, 
 
 dancing generally eontiuues till 
 morning, when the first intimation 
 of breaking up is the dancing of the 
 figure called ' Sir Roger de Covery.' 
 As soon as that dance is over, all 
 the more timid part of the female 
 guests slip out of the house, to aviod 
 the finale, which is follows :— the 
 music strikes up the quadrille air 
 called ' Voulcz-vous danscr,' a gen- 
 teleman goes round with a hand- 
 kerchief, which he throws round the 
 neck of any girl he chooses, falls 
 on his knees, gently pulls her down 
 and kisses her; then giving her the 
 handkerchief, continues a kind of 
 trot round the house; the lady does 
 the same with any gentleman she 
 likes, and giving him the handker- 
 chief, catches the first gentleman by 
 the skirts of the coat, and trots after 
 him around the house. This is done 
 alternately by all present, until all 
 the young men and women are trot- 
 ting round catching hold of each 
 other as in the play of ' Chickens 
 come cluck.' They then form a ring 
 around the last person who has the 
 handkerchief, who selects a lady or 
 gentleman, as the case may be, and 
 after another salutation leads his or 
 
 consisting, usually, of a piper and a fiddler;), who. 1 her partner to a seat. This is done until the whole 
 consisung, uouoi J, ±- r _.„,_■ u.„i .,„. „„A tV,„c .orm nntps a countrv 
 
 during the dinner, had been playing some of the 
 more slow and plaintive of the national airs, now 
 strike up, and the dance immediately commences. 
 First single parties dance reels, jigs, and doubles. 
 Country-dances now succeed, in which, as in the 
 single dances, and the old and the young, rich 
 and poor, the master and his maid, the landlord and 
 his tenant's daughter, as well as the landlord's 
 daughter and his tenant's son— all join together 
 without distinction. Yet it is pleasing to observe 
 how the poor peasants return, on such occasions, 
 the condescension of their superiors without addi- 
 tional respect. During the intervals of the dance, 
 drinking is, or rather was, resumed; and though on 
 these occasions it was often carried to excess, we 
 never new, nor never met any one who knew, of 
 anything like a quarrel taking place at a country 
 wedding. Indeed, we have seen people who, as 
 the saying goes, were 'wicked in their licker,' got 
 intoxicated at these joyous festivals without mani- 
 festing ill-temper— on the contrary, they have been 
 remarkably entertaining, as if the general harmony 
 had expelled the demon of discord. Songs are also 
 sung both in English and Irish. 
 
 The Irish words of one of them were given to us 
 by a friend, accompanied by a Hteral translation; 
 we have endeavored to return them to verse; they 
 are sung to the well-known air 'Shule Aroon.' 
 
 Oh, have you seen my Norah Fay? 
 She's left me all the sad long day, 
 Alone to sing a weary lay ; 
 I Godhimo vourneen, slaun; 
 
 Shule, shule, shule, aroon; 
 Shule go Bochir, agus slmle go cnne, 
 Shule go theev dorris aguR cilig lumc, 
 As' go dhi mo vourueeu slaun. 
 
 circle is broken up; and thus terminates a country 
 wedding. 
 
 Yet, amid the want so often attendant upon the 
 young and thoughtless marriages of the Irish pea- 
 santry, it is wonderful to note how closely heart 
 clings to heart. Poverty, the most severe and 
 prolonged, rarely creates disunion, and never sepa- 
 ration. The fidelity of the poor Irish wife is pro- 
 verbial, she will endure labor, hunger, and even 
 ill-usage, to an almost incredible extent, rather 
 than break the marriage vow; we have known cases 
 in abundance. 
 
 Call Things by their Right Names. — Tom 
 Cooke tells a story of an occurrence at a provincial 
 theatre in Ireland, where Macready was personating 
 Virginius. In preparing for the scene, in which 
 the body of Dentatus is brought on the stage, the 
 manager called to Pat, his property-man, for the 
 bier. 
 
 Pat being of a ' heavy ' temperament, responded 
 to the call by saying he would fetch it ' immaditly." 
 Pat next made his appearance with a full foaming 
 pot of the right sort, and was received with anger 
 for his stupidity. 
 
 The bier, you blockhead,' thundered the mana- 
 ger. 
 
 • And isn't it here ?' exclaimed Pat, presenting the 
 mug. 
 
 Not that, you donkey ; I mean the barrow for 
 Dentatus,' 
 
 ' Then why don't you call things by their right 
 names ?" muttered Pat. • Who would suppose you 
 meant the barrow when you called for beet ?' 
 
 You'll know her by her raven hnir, 
 IUt deep blue eye, her lorelicad lair, 
 Her step and laugh that banish care; 
 
 As' go dhi mo vourneen slaun. 
 In form you may her pemblance find, 
 But none like her, of womankind, 
 If you can see her heart and inina; 
 
 A«' go dhi mo vourneen slauu. 
 Oh, bring to me my Norah Fay, 
 For houFs are days when »he « »way; 
 The sun looks dark, and sweet birds lay 
 
 Co dhi mo vourneen, slaun, 
 ShuU, shule, shule, aroon; 
 
 Shule go sochir, ngus shule go cune, 
 
 Shule go theev dorris ugus eilig lume. 
 As' godhimo vourneen, slaun. 
 
 In the course of the night a collection is made 
 
 for 'the music,' and another for the poor 
 
 The Fast Dat.— That reminds me of what hap- 
 pened to me going up in a boat; it was a Friday, 
 and the dinner, as you may suppose, was not very 
 good, but there was a beautiful cut of salmon just 
 befare me, about a pound and a half — maybe two 
 pounds; this I slipped quietly on my plate, obser- 
 ving to the company in this way — ' Ladies and gen- 
 tlemen, this is fast day with me,' when a big fellow, 
 with big whiskers, stooped across the table, cut my 
 bit of fish in two halves, calling out as he carried 
 off one—' Bad scran to ye, d'ye think nobody has a 
 The 1 ^""^^ '" ^^'^ '"'' yo^self i' 
 
311 
 
 miSH MISCELLANT. 
 
 BRASS. 
 I're tnninl my b«rp to v»rlon» themei, 
 
 But ne'er before to Braw ; 
 Uiive raked my l^rnln with many tchemee, 
 
 To claim thrcuKli life » P«"- 
 But nature mode my focc of clay. 
 
 Which 5cem« misfortune dhe— 
 A braien front we need each daj 
 
 To help u» to aspire. 
 
 A man untinclured with the or« 
 
 Should not be lert at large ; 
 Be may not earn enougb on abora 
 
 To pay hi« parish cbarge. 
 Ill folly In this nauntin/5 •(• 
 
 To show a modest .'ace; 
 Brass is the clown, and Uraisthe ra(«) 
 
 It leads oil' in the cbajte. 
 
 The cabbage grows the dal-y down- 
 Topples out-scent the rose; 
 
 Brau dlgniUea the brainless clown, 
 And gives lim great repose. 
 
 The pumpkin far out-swells the peach— 
 The burdock scorns the piuk; 
 
 Brass often fnuaies it can teach 
 Ueal flesh and blood to thiuk. 
 
 Then why may I not bravely sing 
 
 In praise of ^taring bras."; 
 It stems, in thio mad age, the thing 
 
 To raise to power on— asa. 
 The voice of gold breaks ou the air. 
 
 And tays, ' I'm King of Earth ' ; 
 But brass, which hoots down all despair, 
 
 Claims prior right by birtli. 
 
 Brasa stares unflinching in the face 
 
 Ofe'en 'Old Nick' himself, 
 And mocks all modesty and jraca 
 
 While clamoring for pell; 
 Ue wears a sell'-eulliciut look, 
 
 Aud swings with such an air! 
 I've hall a mind to write book 
 
 On Brass— it would be rare. 
 
 Tes, I have sung on many themes, 
 
 But ne'er before on lirass ; 
 Uavo raked my brain with many schemes, 
 
 To claim through life a pass, 
 But Mature made my face of clay, 
 
 Which seems misfortune dire; 
 A brazen front makes clear the way 
 
 For uiuniea to aspire. 
 
 can nfTcr be but scvcnty-two Cardinals at one 
 time, and tlu-rcare seldom so many. They may be 
 appointed in any part of the world, from those pre- 
 lates who hare passed to the rank of bishops or 
 archbisliops; and they are chosen by the Tope him- 
 self. Generally they are Italians, and more than 
 half of them reside permanently in Rome. The 
 moment, however, the jPopc is dead, couriers arc 
 despatched in every part of the world where cardi- 
 nals reside, to inform them of the event, that they 
 may hasten to the capital of the Catholic world, to 
 participate in what must always be regarded as an 
 important one— the creation of a new Pontiff. 
 
 MY CONSULSHIP, 
 
 ROME AND POPE PIUS THE NINTH. 
 BY 
 
 EDWARDS LESTER. 
 
 At the close of one of the brightest June days 
 of 1846, as the sun was kindling his evening fires on 
 the dome of St. Peter's, in one of the magnificent 
 ehamberb of the Vatican Gregory XVI. lay dying. 
 He was a very old man; his thin hair was white as 
 iUver, and the veins lay large and blue on his hands 
 and temples; and his voice was complaining like a 
 sick child's; and he asked Gaitano, his favorite scr- 
 vant, to turn him in his bed, and then to draw 
 aside thedamask curtains of the western window, 
 and let the glorious sun beam once more on his eye. 
 It did shine kindly on his white face, and the golden 
 doors, and the porphyry columns, and the stately 
 hanging of his couch, and even Itaphael's 'fresco' 
 angels looked kindly down on the old man, and he 
 asked Gaitano if he thought he was very sick. 
 
 And then that western sky became all gold and 
 purple, and, as it paled into night, the stars came 
 out still and piercing, through the blue; and a 
 thousand bells sent their Ave-Maria chimings away 
 over the Campanian fields, and far up among those 
 rtars; and noisy bustle of Home died slowly into its 
 evening murmur, and the great city's pulse beat 
 calmly, like the night heaving of the sea; and all 
 nature was kind. 
 
 Our readers know that the Popes are elected by 
 the College of Cardinals. They assemble imme- 
 diacy after the funeral ceremonies of the deceased 
 Pontiff are over, shut themselves up, and have no 
 communication with the world till the new Pope is 
 elected, and be must be one of theto numb«r. There 
 
 At ten o'clock on the morning of the 9th June, 
 1S46, the Senator of Home, whose duty it -was, 
 caused the great bell on the Campideglio to toll. 
 It is never struck but for the death of a Pontiff. 
 
 The first note told Rome that her sovereign was 
 dead. A response came back from every tower and 
 spire of the city, and thus the news was telegraphed 
 on all sides, from belfry to belfry, till the last ham- 
 let of the Roman States knew that the sad reign of 
 Gregory was ended. 
 
 Tlie Cardinal Tomnrso Riario Sforza, first deacon 
 of Santa Maria in via Lata, and chamberlain of the 
 Pontilicial palace, assembled the members of the Apos- 
 tolical Chamber, and at their head jiroceeded to the 
 Palace, attended by a large number of the officers of 
 the army. , 
 
 He led the way to the chamber where the body of 1 
 Gregory was lying, and knetling by its side, murmured [ 
 a prayer. He then uncovered the white head of the 
 deceased, while he repeated the ' De profundis,' with 
 emotion, over the form of the old man he loved. 
 
 The Notary-Secretary then read the acknowledg- 
 ment of the receipt of the ' pastoral ring,' from the 
 'Maestro di Camera,' Medici d'Ottiano. This pasto- 
 ral ring has descended through a long line of Pontiffs. 
 It is put upon the fore-finger of the right hand of the 
 Pope, from which it is never removed till death. 
 
 The chamberlain, attended by the Swiss Guards, 
 then returned to his residence, robed in the magnifi- 
 cent costume o( the fifteenth century, hailed with the 
 supreme military honors due to him, according to cus- 
 tom, during the vacancy of the Holy Sec. 
 
 That night the body of the deceased Pope was em- 
 balmed, and the following day, in compliance with the 
 prescribed ceremonial, it was enveloped in fine hnen, 
 and la d upon a spread of riimson silk, embroidered 
 and fringed with geld. Four of the noble guards, in 
 I their scarlet uniform, with drawn swords, were posted 
 ' at the head and feet of their dead sovereign.and by their 
 side were ki.eeling the 'peuitenzieri,' fathers of the 
 'Ba^iliea' of the Vatican, repeating, in low sepulchral 
 chorus, the prayers they began the moment they heard 
 that the soul had departed. 
 
 I The same night, the viscera and heart of the deceas- 
 
 ! ed were deposited in an urn, and borne, like those of 
 
 1 all the Pontiffs, to the Church of San Vincenzo and 
 
 Saint Atanasio, under the guard of Monsignore Arpi, 
 
 ! private chaplain of Gregory, with two grooms, hearing 
 
 I lighted torches, walking by the side of the carringe. 
 
 I On the morning of the 12th, the grand funeral 
 
 obsequies began. In the centre of the Basilica, a vast 
 
 and magnificent funeral pile, for the reception of the 
 
 precious urn, had been constructed by the Count Vir- 
 
 i ginio Vcsplgnani, architect of the Chamberbia of the 
 
 i Roman Church. It was sustained liy columns, orna- 
 
 ' mented with statutes, and illuminated by grand can- 
 
 ' delabra, and a forest of wax torches. 
 
 The sacred college and the other dignitaries of the 
 church, the diplomatic corps, the military authorities, 
 and a host of illustrious personages, were crowded 
 around the illuminated pile. 
 
 On the 13ih, the funeral oration of Gregory was 
 pronounDed, in the presence of sacred college, by a 
 fnend of the Pontiff- as every man'a should be — S. G. 
 Rosani, Bishop of Eritrea. 
 
 On the morning of the Uth, the College of Cardi- 
 nab asBembled in St. Peter's to celebrate the man of 
 
 ' the Holy Spirit, and listen to the discourse on the elcc- 
 I tion of Gregory's successor. 
 
 St. Peter's presented a grand appearance. Rome 
 was crowded logcther under the arches of that mighty 
 ! temple, less to witness the magnilieeiit spictacle, than 
 to join the solemn prayers offered up to God for a 
 blessing on the choice to be made. The sacred college 
 is divided into three orders, and when full (which i» 
 rarely the case,) consists of seventy cardinaN— six 
 cardinal-bishops, fifty cardinal-priests, and fourteen 
 deacons; a number established by a decree of Sixtus 
 v., to correspond with the number of ancienU of the 
 people of lareal, and of the disciples of Christ. 
 
 A few hours after this discourse was delivered in 
 St. Petcr's.thc Cullegc assembled in the church of San 
 Silvestro, and the conclave opened; they were not to 
 separate till they had elected a new Pope. As this 
 imposing train of princes followed the magnificent 
 banner of the cross into the temple, black clouds came 
 rolling up over the Campagna, and settled down over 
 Roiue— thunder-peals broke, and lightning flashed 
 along the edges of the clouds. The crowding myriads 
 who gazed on the sight felt that Heaven itself was pre- 
 paring still darker days for Rome. Those who were 
 more hopeful interpreted the augury as an indication 
 only of a strife of the elements, that would have a purer 
 air and a clearer sky; while here aud there a few, who 
 had faith that better times were approaching, saw God 
 himself coming down in his chariot of fire to scatter 
 I the hosts of the enemies of his people, and reveal his 
 I almighty arm of deliverance. Some were stirred wit» 
 I one passion, and some with another; but there was not 
 I a man in that vast crowd that did not feel his heart 
 beat quicker as the doors of the church closed on the 
 palpitating thousands, and fifty-two men, in whose 
 hands the destinies of Italy, and perhaps of Europe, 
 were placed, entered the conclave. 
 
 The doors of the church closed; what was going on 
 in that solemn conclave. Rome could not tell— no sonl 
 beyond its wiills could conjecture. We shall take the 
 reader iuside that secret conclave, and tell him what 
 
 was done there. . 
 
 In the meantime, a hundred thousand anxious Ko- 
 man citizens went to their homes, as lurid flashes of 
 lightning were streaming, and heavy peals of thunder 
 were breaking over the assembled conclave. 
 
 The news of the death of Gregory had gone over 
 Europe, and from fifiy nations the friends of light 
 aud liberty were turning towards Rome, to know the 
 result of that conclave. 
 
 And high above Rome, with its cardinal college, its 
 anxious citizens, and its thunder-storm, and high above 
 all Europe, too, was the God of nations, who ruleth 
 among <he inhabitants of the earth, and giveth its 
 kingdoms to whomsoever he will. He had not aban- 
 doned Italy ! 
 
 When the doors of the church of St. Silvester closed 
 behind the procession of cardinals, at two o'clock on 
 the Uth of June, 1846, they assembled in the Paulina 
 chapel. We shall trace, step by sup, the doings of the 
 college, for we have never seen any authentic account 
 given of the eUction of Pius IX. 
 
 The first act of the assembled cardinals was to swear 
 to observe all the regulations and usages of the sacred 
 conclave. They then entered their cells, where they 
 received visits from foreign ambassadors, princes, pre- 
 lates, and other personages of rank. Every Catholic 
 court of Europe was represented there in the person of 
 a minister, and almost every governnientof the civili- 
 zed world, except our own, in the person of some ac- 
 complished diplomatist— all working for their distant 
 masters, hoping in some manner to influence the elec- 
 tion of ihc new Pope. 
 
 At last the clock struck the hour, which was the 
 signal for departure, and every person except those 
 whose duty it was, by the Constitution of the Church of 
 Rome, to assist in the solemn business before the con- 
 clave, withdrew. All the issues and passages to the 
 chapel were walled up. with the exception of the towers 
 and the principal duor, whoso key was confided to the 
 guard of the marshal of the Holy See. 
 
 Tbe iacred college then addressed iieel/to the solemn 
 
IRISH fflSCELLANY. 
 
 343 
 
 business of I'hoosing n new Prince for Komc, ami the 
 KDtiian Cliunh. The ciiiriaf.'is of amha.-i.-ailors, 
 princes, and prelates rollcil awav , and the crowd shiwiy 
 be<;un to diyp. rse from Monte Cavnllo. The curdm.ils 
 01 cupieri, aiiordini. to a custom in use since I'ius VII. 
 tire huildin;; of the Swiss, which ixtcnda along ihu 
 itrecl I'ia, as well as the small |>ulaeu froaiingihe Four 
 Fountains. A'l cotnmunicaiion between these build- 
 ings and the principal court of the grand palace had 
 al-o been walled up, except the door of the royal 
 saloon, by which the cardinals passed to the Pauline 
 chapel, where the votes were examined. Large bar- 
 riers covered with topestry, and guarded by Swi^s sol- 
 diers, armed with halberts,imercepied ilie passage from 
 thai part of the street Pia, corresponding to the con- 
 cUve. 
 
 The blinds and thatters of all the windows of 
 the place were closed, and the Grand Lodge over the 
 entrance was walled up to the top, and could not be 
 opened but for the new Pope to pass out, to give his 
 first pontifical benediction. The cells of the electors 
 Were disposed on either side of the long corridor of the 
 building of the Swiss. Those on one side looked on 
 the street Pia; the others on the pontitical gardens. 
 Cardinal Masiai (Pius IX ) was in one of the latter. 
 
 Nine torri (ijr turning boxes,) opened in the differ- 
 ent walls, served to coniniunicate between the interior 
 and exterior of the conclave. Ihrte were reached 
 from the tip of the royal ^t»irway, and through these 
 the cardinals must receive their visits and messages. 
 They could not, however, hold comnjunication even 
 by these means Rith any person without witnessess, for 
 the speakeis were guaidid aid watched by the con- 
 servators and pielate-auditors, who hud token asolemn 
 0^ never to violate their sacred trust. The other six 
 torri were used (or parsing food to the cardinals, which 
 was prepaied iu their own houses, aud carried to them 
 every day, about noon, by their owu servants, in great 
 state, in the carriages of their masters, escorted by 
 gentlemen in waiting. The dinner, plaie, and furni- 
 ture of the table were enclo>ed in immense baskets, and 
 in the following order the servants of each cardinal ap 
 proached ihe cells of their princely masters: 
 
 Two grooms, with golden-headed canes, opened the 
 procession. 'J he body-servant of each cardinal follow- 
 ed, with the plate of his lord turned down, if he was 
 made a cardinal by the late Pope. Next came the 
 gentlemen of the cardinal's household; aud, last of all, 
 two servants to each basket. Tliey all stop in the 
 saloon which conduct to the torri, aud the prelate- 
 guards, wiih knife in hand, cut aid carve up every 
 dish, pie, or pastry, even to the chickens' wing.*, tu see 
 that no letter, or note, or signal, be thus introduced 
 from the exteinal world. The mace bearer then pro- 
 claims, in a loud voice, the name of his cardinal, and 
 calls tor the conclave cameriere, who comes to the 
 torri, and passes the plate, dinner, etc., to the hand of 
 bis mas'.er. The passage is then closed for the next 
 tweniy four hours. 
 
 All persons who, without being members of the 
 sacred college, nevertheless attend its sessions in its 
 service, are made to pass out, one by one, into the 
 chapel Paulina, and swear on the Holy Evangelists 
 that they will never speak of, nor reveal, what tran- 
 spires within the holy walls. There ate three camerieri 
 (or bo(ly-ser\ants) to each elector, the secretary of the 
 college, and three assistants; the sacristan and under- 
 sacristan of the apostolical palace, wi.h three piiesis 
 to aii^them; six musieis of ceremonies; the confessor 
 of the conclave; two physicians, a surgeon, and two 
 eidi-; an aichitect, a carpenter, and a mason; aud, 
 finally, thiity-fiie general attendants. This ends the 
 doings of the first day. 
 
 [To be Continued.] 
 
 Temptation. — An aged Quakeress, the other after- 
 noon, was seen intently gazing upon a piece of richly 
 embroidered satin, displayed in u linen-draper's shop- 
 window. An Irishman, passing, smiled as he saw the 
 Idscination of ihe dame. ' Ah,' laid he, ' ihwt's-Saiin 
 tempting £t»,' 
 
 IRISH DROLLERY. 
 
 An amusing story of Daines Harrington, Kecorder 
 of Bristol, is related by one of the British press. 
 Having to appear for a plaintitf, in a case at Clon- 
 niell.hc let into the defendnat in nomi'asured terms. 
 The individual inveighed against not being present, 
 only heard of the invectives. After Barrington, 
 however, had got back into Dublin, tliedef ndant, 
 a Tipperary mau,named Foley, lost no titne in pay- 
 ing his compliments to the counsel. lie rode all 
 day and night, and, covered with sleet, arrived be- 
 fore Barrington's residence in Ilarcoui't street, Dub- 
 lin. Throwing the bridle of his smokicg horse over 
 the railing of the area, he announced his arrival by 
 a thundering knoek at the door. Barrington's valet 
 answered the summons, and, opening the street- 
 door, beheld the apparition of the rough coated 
 Tipperary fire-eater, witti a large stick under his 
 arm, and the sleet sticking to his bushy whiskers. 
 ' Is your master up ?' demanded the visitor, in a 
 voice that gave some iritimatlou of the object' of his 
 journey. 
 
 ' No," answered the iVian'. 
 
 ' Then give him my compliments, arid say Mr. 
 Foley— he'll kn6w the name— will be glad to see 
 him." 
 
 The valet went up stairs, and told his master, 
 who was in bed, the purport of his visit. 
 
 'Then don't let Mr. Foley in fo-- your life,' said 
 Barrington, ' for it is not a hare nor a brace of ducks 
 he has come to present me with.' 
 
 The man was leaving the budrooni, when a rough 
 wet coat pushed by him, wliile a thick voice said, 
 •By your leave,' and at the same' time Mr. Foley 
 entered the bedroom. 
 
 ' You k»ow my business, sir,' said he to Barring- 
 ton ; ' I have made a journey to teach you "man- 
 ners, and it's iiotmy purpose to return until I have 
 broken every bone in your body,' arid, at the same 
 time, he cut a figure of eight with his shillelah be- 
 fore the cheval glass. 
 
 ' You do not mean to say yoti would murder me 
 in bed,' exclaimed Daines, who had as much honor 
 as cool courage. 
 
 ' No,' replied the' other, ' b lit get up as sooii as 
 you can.' 
 
 ' Yes,' replied Daines, 'that you might fell me the 
 moment I put myself out of the blankets.' 
 
 • No,' replied the other, ' I pledge you my word 
 not to touch you till you are out of bed.' 
 ' You won't ?' 
 'No.' 
 
 ' Upon your honor f 
 ' Upon ray honor.' 
 
 ' That is enough," said Daines, turning over, and 
 making himself comfortable, and seeming as though 
 he meant to fall asleep, 'I have the honor of an 
 Irish gentleman, and may rest as safe as though 1 
 were under the castle guard.' 
 
 The Tipperary salamander looked marvellously 
 astonished at the pretended sleeper, but soon Daines 
 began to snore. 
 
 'Halloa,' said Mr. Foley, 'aren't you going to get 
 up ?' 
 
 ' No,' said Daines, ' I have the word of an Irish 
 gentleman that he will not strike me in bed, and 1 
 am sure I am not going to get up to have my bones 
 broken. I will never get up again. In the mean- 
 time, Mr. Foley, if jou should want your break- 
 fast, ring the bell ; the best in the house ia at your 
 service. The morning paper will be here presently, 
 but be sure and air it before reading, for there is 
 nothing from which a man so quickly catches cold 
 as reading a damp journal,' and Daines affected to 
 go to sleep. 
 
 'Ihe Tipperary had fun in him as well as ferocity ; 
 he could not resist the cunning of the counsel. ' (iet 
 up, Mr. Barrington, for in bed or out of bed, 1 have 
 not the pluck to hurt so droll a heart.' 
 The result was.thal in le«» than an hour afterwirds 
 
 Daines and his intended murderer were sitting down 
 to a warm breakfast, the latter only intent upon as- 
 saulting a dish of smoking chops. 
 
 AN ANTIQUARY 
 
 Is one that has his being in this age, but his life 
 and conversation are in the days of old. Ho despises 
 the present age as an innovation, and slights the 
 future, but has a great value of whet is past and 
 gone, like the madman who fell in love with Cleo- 
 patra. He is an old frippi-ry philosopher, that has 
 so strange a natural affection to worm-eaten specu- 
 lation, that it is apparent he has a worm in his 
 skull. He honors his forefathers and foremothers, 
 but condemns his parents as too modern, and no 
 better than upstarts. He neglects himself, because 
 he was born in his own time and so far off antiquity 
 which he so much admires, and repines like a 
 younger brother, because he came so late into the 
 world. He spends the one-hi If of his time in col- 
 lecting old insignificant trifles, and the other iu 
 strewing them, which he takes singular delight in, 
 because the oftener he does it the further they are 
 from being new to him. All his curiosities take 
 place one of another, according to their seniority, 
 and he values them not by their abilities, but their 
 standing. He has a great veneration for words that 
 are stricken in years, and are grown so aged that 
 they have outlived their employments. These he 
 uses with a respect agreeable to their antiquity, and 
 the good services they have done. He throws away 
 his time in inquiring after that which has past and 
 gone so many ages since, like one that shoots away 
 an arrow to find out another that was lost before. 
 He fetches things out of dust and ruinS, like the fa- 
 ble of the chymical plant raised out of its own 
 ashes. He values one old invention that is lost, and 
 never to be recovered, before all the new ones in the 
 world, though ever so useful. As every man has 
 but one fathe.-, two grandfathers, and a world of 
 ancestors, so he has a proportional value for 
 things that are ancient, and the further off the 
 greater. 
 
 He is a great time-saver, but it is out of time, 
 out of mind, to which he conforms exactly, but is 
 wholly retired from the present. His days were 
 spent and gone long before he came into the world, 
 and since this his only business is to collect what he 
 can out of the ruins of them. He has so strong a 
 natural affection to anything that is old that he may 
 truly gay to dust and worms, • you are my father, 
 thou art my mother.' He has no providence nor 
 foresight, for all his contemplations look backward 
 on the days of old, and his brains are turned with 
 them as as if he walked backwards. He had rather 
 interpret one obscure word in an old senseless dis- » 
 course than be the author of the most ingenious ' 
 new one. He devours an old manuscript w ith greater 
 relish than worms and moths do ; and, though there 
 be nothing in it, values it above anything printed, ■ 
 which he accounts but a novelty. When he happens ' '' 
 to cure a small botch in an old author, he is as ■ 
 proud of it as if he had got the philosopher's stone, 
 and could cure all the diseases of mankind. He 
 values things wrongfully upon their antiquity, for- 
 getting that the most modern are really the most 
 ancient of all things in the world, like those that 
 reckon their pounds before their shillings and pence, 
 of which they are made up. He esteems i.o cus- 
 toms but such as have outUved themselves, and are' 
 long since out of use. 
 
 Taking. — 'Colonel Watson is a tine looking man, 
 is n't he ; ' said a friend to mo lately. ' Yes,' 1 re- 
 plied, ' 1 was taken for him the other day,' continued 
 my fiiend. ' You ! ' Said I ; ' why,you are as ugly as 
 31U !' ' I don't care for that, I was lukeu for him once 
 — 1 endoised his bill, aud I ttM taken for luui by lUe 
 bailirt'.' 
 
344 
 
 IKISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 THE IRISH C 
 THE COW DOCTOR. 
 
 f To KiTe a general idea of the cow doctor, he is 
 inTSritbl) an old bachelor, had once upon a time 
 be<n the sporteen (a gay fellow) of bome village, 
 and attended all the dances and hurling matches for 
 milea around the country. Ko meeting of any kind 
 was complete without his presence. How it was 
 that he neglected the matrimomal yoke is difhcult 
 to determine; whether it was that his admiration 
 of the fair sex was 90 great that he wab loth to offend 
 all by a ' tingle selection of one," or that he feartd 
 by such selection he might regret his choice, if af- 
 terwards he became acquainted with one of more 
 superior attractions. Meantime, in giving this im- 
 portant question too much consideration, he neglects 
 bii small ' holding,' has become reduced in cir- 
 ' cumstances, and as he lives on through years of 
 misfortune, a change gradually cootes 'o'er tlie spirit 
 of his dream,' for, as 'experience tcacheth,' the 
 experiments he had formerly practised on his own 
 cattle have converted him from an eccentric into a 
 •eientific, and if not a sad, at least a wise man. Pic 
 if now recognized by the farmers of his district as 
 the co» doctor, from the skill he exercises in curing 
 their distempered cattle, when all the resources 
 they had previously adopted proved unavailing. 
 The home of thexiow doctor is not the most delecta- 
 ble. Unlike thegenerality of mankind, he much more 
 pT«fers the hearths of his neighbors to his own fiie- 
 
 ()W DOCTOR. 
 
 I side, which he seldom graces by his presence, unless 
 when he cannot possibly avoid it. As he is in great 
 
 [ demand through the country, he always contrives 
 to make his visits visitations, and the entertainment 
 he receives from the owner of his patient is all he 
 expects directly to gain for his professinal services. 
 
 CHARLES THE SIXTH, KING OF FRANCE. 
 
 Cards were invented by Jacqunrinn Gringoureur, 
 a painter at Paris, iu the reign of Charles the Si.xth, 
 King of France, to amuse thai prince, who was oc- 
 cacionally insane. Piquet was the first game played. 
 The ace was named from the Latin word 'As,' which 
 sip;nifies, generally, wealth. Spades and diamonds 
 mean arms, the heavy arrows formerly shot from 
 cross-bows, being shaped like the diamonds in cards. 
 Hearts mean courage. Clubs represents trefoil, an 
 herb that grows in meadows; this was to imply that 
 a gfneral should never encamp without good oppor- 
 tunities for forage. The kings, originally, were 
 portraits of David, son of Jesse, Alexander the 
 (jreat, Julius Ca;sar, and Charlemagne, each with 
 his esquire, from ecuyer, called in the middle ages 
 valet, or knave, titles in those days considered as 
 honorable. Judith, queen of hearts, was designed 
 as a picture of the lovely Isabean de Barierc, wife 
 of Charles the Sixth. Arginc, the queen of clubs, is 
 an anagram, formed of rcgina, and was a represen- 
 tation of Mary of Anjou, w ife of Charles the Seventh 
 
 of France. The queen of diamonds, under the name 
 of Lachel, was Agnes de Sorcille, the mistress of 
 that prince; and the queen of spades, under the 
 semblance of Minerva, was designed as a picture of 
 Joan d'Arc. The commenccmet of the insanity of 
 Charles the Sixth is thus related: — That monarch 
 was seized with a slow fever at Mans; on his march 
 to attack the Duke of Urittanny, his impatience to 
 proceed induced him to resist the advice of his phy- 
 sicians, and to continue his march. As he passed 
 through a forest between Mans and La Flcche, in 
 the heat of the day, the bridle of hia horse was sud- 
 denly seizid by a man in wretched apparel, black 
 and hideous, who exclaimed, 'My king, where are 
 you going ? you are betrayed !' and then instantly 
 disappeared. At that moment, a page, who carried 
 the king's lance, and who, under the pressure of 
 fatigue, had fallen asleep, let fall the lance on a 
 helmet which another page carried before him. 
 This noise, with the sudden appearance and excla- 
 mation of the man, concurred to produce an imme- 
 diate and fatal effect on the king's imagination. 
 He drew his sword, and struck furiously on every 
 side; three persons, beside the page who dropped 
 his lance, were the victims of his frenzy; at length 
 the king was disarmed and secured. The violence 
 of the effort had exausted his strength, and he was 
 conveyed, sen eless and motionless, to Mans. This 
 account, strange and improbable as it may appear, 
 is yet supported by the concurrent testimonies of 
 contemporary historians. The delirium lasted for 
 three days; but though he recovered from it, he 
 no longer possessed that clear comprehension and 
 strength of judgment which had formerly distin- 
 guished him, and another extraordinary accidenP 
 replungcd him into his former frenzy, which" 
 unhappy state continued, though with some inter- 
 vals of reason, to the last moments of his life. 
 
 INJURIOUS EFFECTS OF SMOKING. 
 
 It might be supposed that as tobacco is neces- 
 sarily burnt whcn.employed in smoking, its injurious 
 properties arc destroyed. This is by means the 
 case. The active principle of tobacco consists in an 
 oil, called an essential or volatile oil, because it can 
 be raised in the form of vapor, like water or spirit. 
 This oil, when separately collected, is one of the 
 most active poisons known. In smoking, a small 
 quantity of it is drawn into the mouth, where it 
 mixes with the saliva. Its poisonous effects are 
 more conspicuous in inexperienced and young 
 smokers, not only because their nerves are unaccus- 
 tomed to it, and therefore more sensible to the 
 effects of a small dose, but because they are more 
 apt to swallow the spittle contaminated with the 
 smoke: and also, by quickly drawing the air through 
 the burning tobacco, they cause a larger quantity 
 of oil to reach the mouth. The poisonous effect of 
 tobacco, as exhibited on raw smokers, are giddiness, 
 intoxiration, and dist.essing sickness, which con- 
 tinue for a considerable time. Notwithstanding 
 these effects, a silly and childish notion that smok- 
 ing is a very fine thing, and makes those seem 
 manly, who have liitle or nothing of manliness to 
 recommend them, induces the young smoker to go 
 on until his sensibility is blunted lolthese unpleasant 
 effects, and he is only conscious of thd seducing ex- 
 citement or stupidity, which he finds so delightful 
 that the temptation can hardly be overcome. 
 
 A Contented Man.— A druggist was aroused by 
 the tinging of his night-bell. He arose, went down 
 stairs, and had to serve a customer with a dose of 
 salts. His wife grumbled, 'What profit do you get out 
 of that penny?' 'A half penny,' replied the assiduous 
 druggist. 'And for that ha'penny you'll be awake a 
 long time !' rejoined the wife. 'Never mind,' added 
 the placid druggist, 'the dose of salts will keep him 
 awake much longer; let us thank Heaven that we 
 have the profit and not the pain of the transaction.* 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 345 
 
 IRISH MISCELLANY 
 
 THOMAS O NEILL .... PUBLISHER ANB PBOPRIETOR. 
 
 BOSTON, SATITRDAY, JANUARY 8, 1869. 
 
 IRISH CRIME AT HOME AND ABROAD. 
 
 The love for freedom, the love for home, the ad- 
 hesion to old customs, love for association, and 
 lore for a religion made sacred by persecution, seems 
 to make up the crime for which the Irish people at 
 home and abioad are held guilty. That they will 
 not bow down their heads to the English yoke, nor 
 meekly submit to a slavery of mind and body which 
 has no parallel in the civilized world, is the crime 
 of not only to-day but of centuries gone by. They 
 have been decapitated and quartered, from Primate 
 Plunkett to the Shiers's, and from Lord Maguire to 
 Robert Emmet. The antipodes have been peopled 
 with ardent lovers of fatherland, who, aspiring to 
 nationality and freedom, have teen made outcasts 
 and toilers on the most inhospitable islands and 
 shores of the remotest portions of the globe. They 
 have been driven into exile by the million, and 
 starved into premature graves by British ministers 
 and British policy ; yet have they retained that vir- 
 tue which ever and everywhere distinguishes them — 
 *A love for home and altars free.' 
 
 Poets have indulged in defining human character 
 from the possession or absence of this love — 
 * He that loves not home loves nothing.' 
 
 While another says : — 
 
 ' Breathes there a man with soul so dead, 
 Who never to himself hath said 
 This is my own, my native land.' 
 
 And again — 
 
 ' A man's first, best country ever is at home.' 
 
 Thus have poets sung. Love for home and 
 freedom, universally acknowledged a virtue — love, 
 the noblest attribute of God — is the crime for 
 which Irishmen at home and abroad are arraigned 
 and found guilty. 
 
 England has been preaching unprecedented pros- 
 perity in Ireland of late years ; but the lull in 
 Irish hate for the government of that country was 
 the peace of the grave j two million souls re- 
 turned to the presence of the Almighty, who knew 
 they were murdered by British wrong. The youths 
 not yet grown to manhood are found on the 
 side of truth, justice and Ireland, and for the safety of 
 British power it is necessary again to resort to 
 the dungeon and the scaffold. Twelve or fourteen 
 young men (or boys) are incarcerated amidst the 
 warlike pomp of power and bayonets. Treason to 
 the state makes ministers alert ; the boys talk love 
 for Ireland and hate for the oppressor ; they re- 
 member the ruined temples and the famine pits.and 
 some remember the parental roof-tree, the cot from 
 which they were ejected by seme dastard or 
 profligate, who, by law, filled a pulpit four times in 
 the year that he m.ight, by the said law, tax and 
 trample the rightful owners of the soil, and some, 
 perhaps, remember a mother or a sister dying by 
 the roadside, driven forth in fever by the extermi- 
 nating brigade, and, harrowed by its memory, vow- 
 ed a vengeance at some future day. 
 
 ■jlorious love for freedom ! Ireland now, as ever 
 is true to her aspirations, and cowardly and degen- 
 erate must be the son who does not admire the 
 living tire still intensely burning. With Moore, 
 ' we never can forget her ' — 
 ' No, thy chaJDs aa they rankle, thy blood as it runs. 
 But make thee more painfully dear to thy sons— 
 
 Whose hearts, like the young.of the desert bird's nest. 
 Drink lore in each Jife-drop that flows Irum thy breast.' 
 
 England's Christianity and civilization are mani- 
 fest to the world in India at this moment, for in 
 thousands the natives are shot down and bayonet- 
 ed in cold blood, till her own soulless and wrutched 
 butchers cry out ' shame.' 
 
 Ribbonism is the pretext for more penal laws in 
 Ireland. The church is opposed to crime j not 
 only so, but she is conservative ; secret societies 
 must receive her ban ; the people love their clergy- 
 men, and obey them, thus, without arms or the 
 countenance of those who alone can bring suc- 
 cess, futile must ever be the efforts of the few who 
 thus give the enemy another pretext, while Ire- 
 land's success is only delayed till a unity of pur- 
 pose and of thought be compatible with the preach- 
 ing and receive the sanction of the clergy, from 
 whom the people have never been separated. 
 
 Patronize Your Own Papers first, in all cases, 
 and then, if occasion requires and your means 
 admit of it, extend your favors to other journals. 
 To act otherwise is not to deal fairly towards those 
 who are devoting their capital, their time, and their 
 energies in your defence and for your pleasure and 
 improvement. What kind of justice is that, we 
 would respectfully ask, which selects a daily paper, 
 crowded already with advertisements of every con- 
 ceivable kind and extent, for calling attention to a 
 lecture, a ball, a business notice, or any other 
 branch of industry, where the chances are ten to 
 one that they will go unread, while a family journal, 
 which is taken home and attentively perused, is 
 overlooked, and may be languishing for want of that 
 very patronage which causes a plethora in the trea- 
 sury of those sheets that perhaps treat your cause 
 with contempt ? In New York and elsewhere, they 
 manage these things better, as few matters, indeed, 
 deserving the public notice, fail to find their way 
 into those papers that were designed originally 
 as mediums of communication for the classes they 
 address and edify. We would by no means be un- 
 derstood to favor anything like clannishness; but we 
 are led to these remarks by a few recent cases in 
 point, although a consciousness of the injustice of 
 rushing to newspaper offices already in the full en- 
 joyment of an extensive business, to the exclusion 
 of those that need advertisements, has long been 
 subject of wonderment to every observer. Mr. 
 McGee's lecture, for instance, was announced in 
 the Herald only ; but the readers of that journal 
 looked in vain for a word concerning the address be- 
 fore or since its delivery; and the journeymen tailors 
 favored this same paper with an exclusive advertise- 
 ment of their late ball ; yet, though the Journal and 
 the Ledger alluded in flattering terms the next 
 morning to this pleasant gathering, the Herald, as 
 usual, made of it no mention whatever. It has long 
 been a topic of remark, as was stated in a society 
 where we chanced to be quite recently, that, 
 whereas the Boston Herald is extensively patron- 
 ized by the Irish, the only other noticeable feature 
 thereof is that its charges are invariably the most 
 exorbitant. We have no earthly motive in thus 
 writing but a due sense of inflexible justice. The 
 Herald, no doubt, deserves its prosperity, and we 
 trust envy does not prompt our feeble remarks. We 
 repeat, however, what is there of fair dealing in the 
 course of those who have papers of their own, and 
 who nevertheless refuse to send to them their favors, 
 but persist in going where the crowd goes ? What 
 advantage is it to a party having business to trans- 
 act in Boston to know that his advertisement may 
 be read in Loo-foo-choo or the Fejee Islands ? De- 
 pend upon it, readi-r, if the ri-ht course uf patron- 
 izing lirot your own papers was generally adopted, 
 the result would be mutually beneficial; for what 
 one might pass unheeded would be certain to be 
 observed by others, who would relate it to those 
 to whom you looked for participation in your plea- 
 sures, sympathy in your reverses, or the purchase of 
 your wares and merchandises. Too many, we re- 
 gret to add, seem to appreciate more the favorable 
 opinion of those who, when they deign to notice 
 them, in reality only palaver from sinister mo- 
 tives. 
 
 Not to every one was it given to enjoy this 
 season a merry Christmas. Passing in the 6 o'clock 
 train from the Worcester depot on Christmas eve, 
 our attention was arrested when near the Harvard 
 street crossing, in Boston, by the ghastly spectacle 
 of a mutilated corpse lying near the track, the flick- 
 ering light of a dim lantern, in the hands of a sor- 
 rowing attendant, only helping to add to the gloom. 
 A locomotive had a little while before brought in 
 the Newton train of cars, and was backing out from 
 the depot at a point — which should be closed against 
 public travel — where a complete network of raili 
 suffices to baffle the most collected mind in deter- 
 mining whither to go and avoid personal injury. 
 The deceased proved to be Michael Kane, a stone- 
 cutter, 37 years of age, residing at 107 Kneelind 
 street, where he leaves a wife and two children in 
 destitute circumstances, who happened, unfortu- 
 nately for himself, to be on this treacherous ground, 
 was run over by the locomotive, and of course in- 
 stantly killed. The daily papers, in chronicling the 
 catastrophe, taking their cue perhaps from some em- 
 ploye of the railroad corporation, declared, with one 
 exception, that the dead man was intoxicated, while 
 the Herald, as if determined to eclipse its contem- 
 poraries, indulged in the following strain of fine 
 writing : ' An elucidation of the stupid conduct of 
 the deceased may be deduced from the fact that he 
 had been partaking freely from a bottle containing 
 bad rum, which was found upon his person." What 
 thoughtlessness, not to say criminality, is here 
 evinced ! Was this penny-a-liner quite sure that 
 the deceased ' had been partaking freely from a bot- 
 tle,' and what authority had he for determining its 
 contents ' bad rum ?' These are. however, stereo- 
 typed phrases, by no means calculated to excite re- 
 mark, particularly when the object happens to be 
 an Irish laborer. Because a poor man, who cannot 
 afford to employ a messenger, is on Christmas night 
 carrying homeward a little liquor, and is run over 
 in a most dangerous locality, he is forsooth, with- 
 out further evidence, pronouced drunk ! Did we 
 but know the relatives of the departed, and were 
 we satisfied that they could adduce evidence of his 
 sobriety only a little while before the calamity, we 
 should by all means urge them immediately to sue 
 the railroad company for meet damages. 
 
 The Messrs. CnicKEBiho appear to be full of the 
 same spirit of Christian benevolence that made the 
 honored name of Jonas Chickering so long synony- 
 mous in our city with all the attributes of charity. 
 The splendid donation of a piano to the late 
 Orphan's Fair was merely indicative of the good- 
 ness of heart which invariably characterizes these 
 gentlemen, as evidence is abundant of their philan- 
 trophy, some of which is in our possession, that 
 we should be happy to lay before our readers were 
 we not sensible how repulsive parade of this kind 
 would be to those public-spirited gentlemen. But 
 the presentation to the orphans was announced in 
 the daily papers, although the fact of its having 
 been disposed of at private sale, for the sum of 
 $300, has not been before published, and, in be- 
 half of the destitute children in this community, we 
 beg leave to express our gratitude to the Messrs. 
 Chickering for this timely donation, and for other 
 numerous works of charily. 
 
 The Closi.ng Year. — We need scarcely remind 
 our agents and subscribers that the end of the first 
 year of our paper is now drawing to a close. Those 
 having unsettled accounts will please govern them- 
 selves accordingly. 
 
 The MisciLLANT Bound. — We will have about 
 one hundred copies bound immediately after the 
 issue of number 62. 
 
 J. Ford, importer and wholesale dealer in foreign 
 and domestic liquors, 166 and 168 Federal street. 
 
345 
 
 IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 (Writteu for thf Mbccllan>.) 
 THE ANCIENT CHURCH OF 8LANE. 
 
 [ Enierrd nccorrttnp to Act of Congreoii. in tlie .vear 18fl8. by 
 TLomu»U'^'elll,lll the LfiMilcl Court ul Mu^.•-aollU^tilts. 
 
 BY M. 
 
 connrTT. 
 
 BEMINISCKNCES IN THE 
 
 Attend, ercli true Miloiiu), to lliii< mv weak imrnitJon, 
 AVhllf 111 dircoiuuTattou I poi.dfr lor a while 
 III i«l>tit nieujiatiun. to ftBte tlie i'lvvation, 
 Likrnic>« th« niiitatlon, Ola reti;;lou» pile; 
 Tula abb«y oiioo ref peeled, alas! uow btaiidA neglected, 
 I rvally did lii>p<;ct it, ntiich oocs increase my puiii. 
 That man^B degeiicratt-d aud Kriii is Uercutt-d, 
 AVbieb leaves depopultited the aucieut cbuich of Slime. 
 
 It W09 In the iiflh ceutun , in this deUKlitI\it country, 
 
 Atler Si. I'airick't* entry upon our lertile hhore, 
 
 lie raided this gniTid touiidatton, tlie wonder of our nnfioB, 
 
 That's held in veneration, aud nill till tlrae^ti no more; 
 
 In lact it's truly Maud that he hat> coni>ecrated 
 
 bt. Kik, it is relattd of Tara's noble plain, 
 
 Atdhi'tory doee^it nuMilion he ^'ot St. I'atrick's catction 
 
 To rule the holy maoMOU that's on the hill of Slaue. 
 
 One thousand year* and better thisfpol advanced in letters, 
 
 Till El in site in letteri<, alu.'^: then, Im^ been bound ; 
 
 The Hrfti^h violaterf and vile a.-^i'nt^inaton; 
 
 Did bttfcly ruinate end nearlj di-a^gcd her down ; 
 
 They let) JU^t but a cample to show bow they did trample; 
 
 To follow llieir example '^erhupH they would u^ blame; 
 
 Hut be is lo^l iu slumber, and with man cannot be uumbtr- 
 
 ed. 
 That won't cry out like thunder—* Kevengu the church of 
 
 SUue.' 
 
 I^aralnf; here it flourished, religion it was nourished, 
 The stranger be war clierit^bcd, uud always found relief; 
 Utn of the highest station come here for education — 
 Fiom France, that brilliant nation, came Doj^erburt, tbeir 
 
 chief; 
 Literature it blazed, and mankind stood amazed, 
 Aud empires tbey buve gazed on bucb numbers that have 
 
 To this spot, so delighting, their manners for to brghten, 
 Aud talents to eu^ighteu, on the aucieut hill of Sluue. 
 
 This pious grand foundation is made the habitation 
 
 Of the vilest brute creation, likewise the feathered race. 
 
 And for to speak in candor, although disrobed of !<plcudor. 
 
 Yet btlU mfijes.io grandeur the hallowed teu)pie grace; 
 
 It has outlived the storm of heretic's alarm, 
 
 la ppite ol every barm of either bug or dean ; 
 
 TUh tatntly inbtttutiun dcticsall persecution 
 
 Or novel revolution, on the ancient hill of cJIaue. 
 
 "iso more the bell in motion will call into devotion 
 
 The saint of high promotion or sinner unto pra}er, 
 
 J»*o more the celebration of Mass or exultation 
 
 M'ill rise to elevation the heart dib-tre^sed with care; 
 
 Ko moie the grand procession will make a deep impression. 
 
 Or call unto confcs.*-ion the poul distressed with paiu; 
 
 Ob, no, tho^e days are vaui&hcd, aud the clergy they arc 
 
 banished, 
 That mankind once admonished, on the ancient bill of 
 
 tilaue. 
 
 To fcpeak with real sincerity, the blustering winds of heresy, 
 Though backed with the impurity of Luther's art aud skill, 
 lier doctrine could not sever, lor^ake it she will never, 
 ALd liim to it ever, she'll reign triump'ant siill; 
 The rack, the flames, the haltercould never make her falter, 
 ller creed ^hc'll never alter, I boldly do maintain, 
 For virtue is her manner, truth is stamped upou her ban- 
 ner, 
 So faiewell dear pile of honor aud ancieutchurcb of Slaue. 
 
 I We think oar friend bas been reading Sbiel'n 
 Sbamroekb— Ed. Ibi8u Mis.] 
 
 LIFE IF k 
 
 STANZAS. 
 Tbfjr tell of » flower that sleeps all the da7, 
 
 But FhiueK iu itu beuuty by i-ight; 
 Ai.d nlicD il'» cuD>i.iiLii>iJt att blooming and gay, 
 
 That luuely oue biden liom tbe bigUt. 
 
 But some through the garden pass heedless on. 
 
 And deem it a weed ul tbe boner; 
 'When tbob« of tbe day to their sluuibers are gone. 
 
 The fragrance comes iorth from that lluwer. 
 
 Thus some who, when life is all sunny and bright. 
 Like the dowc-rs thut thiue with the ruy, 
 
 Come forth with our day-beams, but shriuk from our 
 Bight, 
 And when sorrow appears, glide away. 
 
 But others, when fodne^s is over the heart. 
 Which struggles in vain with its power, 
 
 Th«ir fiagrance around us tbco kindly impart. 
 And aooUi«, Ifoot gladden, tbe bonr. 
 
 — IS TUE — 
 
 ENGLISH AND AMERICAN SERVICES. 
 BY TUOMAS O'NEILL. 
 
 DEDICATED TO CENEUAI. JAME8 SHIELDS. 
 
 THREE MONTHS* I MPRISONM ENT, OR A SOL- 
 DIER'S CRIME. 
 
 One day in the month of July, 1S3-, our regi- 
 ment had just returned from a field day upon the 
 famed Curragh of Kildare, and we were un.saddling 
 and grooming orr horncs when a de achnient of the 
 33d foot, with twelve or thiitoen carts, conveying 
 convicts towards Dublin, from Monastercvan, halt- 
 ed at the barrack gate. The officer in command 
 represented to our commanding officer that his 
 orders were to convey the convicts to Naas, 
 some si.x. miles di»tant, but that his men were 
 giving out through the excessive heat of the weatlier 
 and fatigue from the length of the day's march. 
 Some were completely overcome, and were fainting 
 from exhaustion, and he feared the result upon the 
 rest of his men should he proceed further. 
 
 Our colonel gave orders for an escort of our men, 
 and halted the party of infantry. It was ray lot to 
 form one of the escorting party, and, having sad- 
 dled quickly, we soon relieved the tired infantry. 
 We formed in front of the prisoners, and received 
 orders to load with ball cartridge — a practice al- 
 ways adopted when conveying prisoners — I presume 
 to deter thera from attempting to escape, and to 
 warn their fiiends that any tfToit to rescue them 
 would be fatal to the prisoners, as, in such case, 
 they would be the first shot. 
 
 While these preliminaries were being arranged, 
 two of the soldiers whom I was r iieving took oc- 
 casion, while delivering their charge to my safe 
 keeping, to draw my attention to a lad some 17 or 
 18 years of age, w ho they said had been convicted 
 on a charge of incendiarism, and sentenced to trans- 
 portation for life. It was, they informed me, the 
 general belief that he was innocent of the crime. A 
 young man standing beside him was his brother, 
 who had accompanied him all the way, and was 
 proceeding to Dublin with the united petition of 
 the Protestant and Catholic clergy and people of the 
 parish to the Earl of Mulgrave,then Lord Lieutenant 
 of Ireland, uiging that an alibi could possibly be 
 proved if time was gi anted — an opportunity for 
 which had been positively denied hy the court — 
 that the moral character of the young man had 
 been unimpiachable, and that, since the trial, from 
 circumstances which had transpired, it was believed 
 that the policeman who prosecuted 1dm was actu- 
 ated by a malicious motive ; the soldiers further 
 stating that the officers in command had permitted 
 these brothers to converse freely thus fur during the 
 journey. 
 
 When we started with our charge I had no idea 
 of denying the poor fellows the consolation which 
 this poor privilege seemed to atfird them. Scarcely, 
 however, had we proceeded one mile on the road, 
 when the sergeant of our party, who had been rid- 
 ing in thcrcar,in company with the young officer in 
 command, rode up, and, in an imperious tone, 
 demanded what that young man was doing 
 there. 
 
 1 simply replied that he wa» talking to his brother, 
 one of the prisoners, and had been permitted that 
 privilege by the officer of the other escort. lie re- 
 plied with a volley of abuse and threats, which 1 
 answered by merely remarking — 
 I . * You are never ea«y without you are barking.* 
 
 He was known among u< hy thccognom'-n of the 
 •Uig d'lg," from his propen^-ity tii growling. 
 
 1 wai ordered to turn the brother away, which, 
 of course, I did. hut not before I had heard suffi- 
 cient of their story to awaken my warmest (.yiripa- 
 thy. 
 
 They were the sons of a widowed mother, who, 
 with one hister, lived upon a comfortable farm near 
 Monastercvan. The boys were blacksmiths, and in 
 good business, enjoying the esteem and respect of 
 all who knew them. 
 
 The younger brother would say to the other, ' I 
 would not ask you, William, to do anything forme 
 if I had hand, act or part in the crime wiih 
 which I am charged, nor would I be altogether 
 without hope if my sentence was even for ten years. 
 I ani young and might outlive it ; but the sentence 
 of banishment fur life is terrible to think of.' 
 
 • Cheer up,' the elder brother would reply, ' we'll 
 never det-ert you. If I fail in obtaining the prayer 
 of the petition,! w ill sell out the forge and the farm, 
 and, with mother and Sirah, will immediately 
 follow you to Van Diemau's Lund. There is no use 
 in trying to live any longer in In land ; honest men 
 are not safe in our poor dowu-trodden country.' 
 
 I continued to ride by the cart, absorbed in the 
 reflections which the melancholy story of the poor 
 brothers naturally gave rise to, when I was rudely 
 roused to a recollection of my position by the voice 
 of the sergeant, who, with a vile oath, swore that 
 he w'oulil attend to my case, and immediately rode 
 to the rear, and reported me to the i Huei for dis- 
 obedience of orders, who, on receiving the report, 
 rode up to me, and I gave him a full statement of 
 the facts. 
 
 He seemed to think no more of it until we arrived 
 at the Jail of Xaas, where, having taken a receipt 
 from the warden for the safe delivery of the pris- 
 oners, we were ordered to return swords, and I to 
 take off my belt, was marched home, and entered 
 the guardroom — a prisoner. 
 
 Ne.\t day, in the usual manner, I received notice 
 to prepare for a court-martial; was duly tried, and, on 
 account of previous good conduct, received the miti- 
 gated sentence of three months' solitary confinement 
 in the cells of the barracks. 
 
 My accommodations here were not such as would 
 be considered first rate by those in the habit of 
 stopping at first class hotels. The cell was about 
 7 by 5 feet, almost wholly taken up with the guard 
 room bed. This consisted of three pine boards, 
 raised eighteen inches, and a pillow of the same 
 material, which, with a cloak and horse-blanket, 
 formed the couch. A brick knocked out of the 
 corner near the ceiling answered for the w.ndow, 
 and the only one to admit light—' light barely suffi- 
 cient to make darkness visible.' Plenty of bread 
 and good cold water, once a day, would have fur- 
 nished the table, if there had been one— but there 
 was not. 
 
 Thus, for three months, did I do penance for in- 
 subordination, or, more truly speaking, for having 
 dared to exhibit feelings of sympathy with misfor- 
 lune. Perhaps my punishment was just and proper; 
 for how could ' hiw and order ' be maintained ? how 
 could her migcsty's crown and government in Ireland 
 be secuR'd ? how could our august ally accomplish his 
 famous ' coup do etat' if the aJlhorities of monaichy 
 for an instant tolerated the growth of such fielings in 
 the breast of their soldiers 1 No! an Irishman who 
 enters the British service must leave aU the liner feel- 
 ings and sensibilities of the human heart behind him, 
 must forget that he ia an Irishman, obliterate from 
 ihe records of his memory the wrongs and sufferings of 
 his people, and remember or.ly that he U a hired 
 machine, whose duty is blind and implicit obedience. 
 
 The greatest difficulty which I experienced in this 
 hdewasto obtain sufficient liyht to r^ad by, for a kind 
 hand would sometimes thrust beneath the door a book 
 or newspaper. My endeavor* to glean « ray of Itoowl, 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 347 
 
 due of how things wcro pns>^ing in the outer woihl 
 cost me mar))- sii achint; I'vdiil, Hamliiij; upon tiptoe, 
 upon my a wooden heil. 1 huvoiTad and nsted, and 
 then rend a^ain, until the [nipilH of my eyes have rti- 
 laied almost to harsting. I was not, Imwever, without 
 recreation ; for, havinj; split a piece otF my bedstead 
 for a bat or hurley, with an old bottomless saucepan — 
 a great discoverv — I exercised myself with these until 
 nature became fairly exhausted. I 'would then to my 
 couch again and sleep it into morning.' 
 
 Thus the ninety days passed, until at length I came 
 out into the world a;;ain, the bu«y, noi*y, beautiful 
 world, with all its delights and exi i crating influences 
 upon the senses and the health of roan. I came out 
 ruddy, floshy, and in excellent health, with a much 
 keener knowledge than I before possessed of what is 
 and what is not the duty of an English soldier. 
 
 I will add, however, thai I was sincerely njoiced to 
 learn that the young man's petition was grantid, the 
 sentence reversed, an alibi proven, and he was honor- 
 ably acquitted and restored to the bosom of his f.imily. 
 While he was thus in the enjoyment ot his freedom, he 
 little knew that I ^vas undergoing a cruel sentence for 
 having allowed his brother to coni'erse with him. 
 
 Since then, however, I have come to the conclusion 
 that it was treatment good enough for any Irishman 
 who enters the military service ot England. 
 
 Jllck had B peculiar aversion to mutton, from some nppom nt gave out from exhaustion, bo Mr, Cud- 
 unexplained reason, and on no pref ncc wliaiev.r couhl more kindly took him up and brought him, on his 
 he be induced to eat it. Some of hi.s friends in Paris back, to the cellur .winning the bet. 
 knew this, and determined, if possible, to muke him ' Horses and cars were no impediment to him, for 
 eat .some. At the cafe, where they generally dined, if they stood in his w,.y he vaulted or jumped over 
 they made the cook prepare a dish, so seasoned, pep- them. At one time, near Limerick, he vaulted over 
 pered and fricasseed, that it was almost impossible to three horses. Though so light under foot, he could 
 tell of what it consi.ted, but contained a goodly quan- never dance, and Charles Lever, in one of his 
 tiiy of mutton. Mick and his friends sat down to din- ■ novels, has a picture. ' Mr. Cudmore tilling out the 
 ner, and he did not detect the ' sheep.' When he had i tea,' to show his awkwardness among the gentler 
 done, ' the laugh came in,' and, when asked the reason, jgx. But, among a circle of his male friends, he 
 the story was told, lie imnudiately put his hands on .,,,^3 the ' bright, particular star," and always ready, 
 his stontach, wmt to bed, aLd was sick three weeks [ .^^.itl, ^yord and joke, to pass the time pleasantly 
 
 afterwards. 
 
 When at home, ho sometimes smu.sed himself by 
 jumping across a pimd near his father's house. '1 his 
 was no easy task, for on both sides of it were huge, 
 
 along, 
 
 Mr. Cudmore was grandson of Joseph Sexton, 
 who, with Mr. Slarer of Dublin, established the 
 tirst paper mills in Ireland, His father fought and 
 
 cras'gy rocks, and, it be happened to slip, there would killed his man in a duel, and was second to Mr. 
 be an 1 nd to his jumpinu for some time— and there was rurnell when he shot Mr, Veracre, brother of the 
 and end to it. One day he missed his footing, and, j^te Lord Gort, and who would have succeeded to 
 falling among the roi ks, broke his leg. For a long ■ t^at title but for the bullet of Mr, Furnell. 
 titne he was obliged to use cru'ches, and when, as last, ■^q^e elder Mr. Cudmore, Michael's father, got into 
 he could stand on the leg at all, he deltberately broke rather straightened circumstances at one ti.ue, and, 
 the crutches and flung them aside. This he did when j^j^g many others, got within the stone walls of 
 he was a mile from the nearest house, and, in endeavor- , Limerick jail. In those days the jailer was well 
 ing to reach home, he fell and broke his leg again. 
 
 tWritten for the Irish MiscelJany.] 
 
 SKETCHES FROM MEMORY. 
 
 BT J. E. F. 
 
 No. II. 
 
 MICHAEL CUDMORE. 
 
 A few years since, I noticed the death, in an Irish 
 paper, of Michael Cudmore, Esq., of Ballyclough, 
 county of Limerick, Ireland. The paper also stated 
 that the deceased was well known to many of the 
 sporting gentry throughout the country. With this 
 simple announcement, the obituary ended, and, think- 
 ing that a few anecdotes ot him would not be inappro- 
 priate in these sketches, I herewi.h transcribe them 
 from memory. 
 
 When Michael was quite young he was sent to 
 school, much against his own inclination and, for years, 
 he learned scarcely anything but the alphabet, and, as 
 he grew older, how to whip the scholars and some- 
 times the master. But what he lacked in learning he 
 gained in size, and Mick, as he was familiarly called, 
 soon became the terror of the school. 
 
 In those days it was customary to whip the scholars 
 when placed on another's back, and, as Mick was stout 
 and muscular, he was usually selected as the person on 
 whose back the offender was ' hoisted.' Upon one of 
 these occasions, as Mick was hoisting a scholar, the lat- 
 ter cried out, ' Cudmore ! Cudmore !' wishing him to 
 desist; but Mick, enjojing the sport, exclaimed ' Cut 
 more ! cut more !' 
 
 One day, however, his own turn came, and as the 
 master came towards him to punish him, Mick took 
 np a stool and flung it at the master's head, felling 
 him to the ground. The scholars made after Mick, 
 who bolted when he saw the mischief he had done, and 
 chased him through several streets. He was almost 
 caught by the foremost when they reached the canal, 
 and, being considered a good jumper, Mick took a 
 Sam Patch leap, and went within a few feet of the op- 
 posite side. His pursuers did not like to follow the 
 example, and thus he escaped. 
 
 He next went to school to the famous McElligol ; to 
 whom also went Gerald GrilKn in his younger days. 
 Here he learned something; but a love of adventure 
 seized him. He left school, went to Lotidon, and from 
 thence to Paris. His ' bru.-que,' off-hand manner and 
 general good qualities made him a favorite, and he 
 moved in the best society. When he had attained his 
 full height he measured 6 fuct 2 inches, in weight was 
 18 stone. Although mixing among the polished and 
 1 dined, he alwayii retained the rich Munsier accent, 
 and was generally knowD by the name of the ' Wild 
 Irishman.' 
 
 This time Michael used crutches until there was no 
 fear of his leg breaking from a disuse of thtm. He 
 jumped again, however. 
 
 At the time the 77th regiment was in Limerick 
 there was a sergeant belonging to it who generally 
 took the lead in jumping. The sergeant had chal- 
 lenged a fellow named Wallace to jump the pan of the 
 canal, near its entrance to the city,aiid iht-y had staked 
 a bet on its result. The rivals had drawn together 
 a crowd, and much excitement existed, Mr, Wallace 
 jumped first, and baicly touched the opposite side, 
 falling backward into the canal. The sergeant jumped 
 and just cleared it, Mr, Cudmore was riding by at 1 
 the time, and alighted to see the sport. He wore a 
 heavy coat, boots and spurs, and thus, unprepared, he 
 told the crowd to move aside, took a short run, and 
 cleared the canal full two feet beyond the sergeant, I 
 saw this spot a year since, and certainly it was decid- 
 edly a great jump, for on both sides it is solid lime- 
 stone, and the jar itself must be almost enough to 
 shake an ordinary man to pieces. 
 
 As might be judged from his schoolboy days, he 
 could not boast a good education, and t.here are nu 
 
 provided with poultry from the friends of those in- 
 carcerated, and, consequently, had a yard well filled 
 with all kinds of fowl. Mr. Cudmore's apartment 
 in the jail overlooked this yard, and, Michael.when 
 he came to visit his father, provided himself with 
 line, hook and bait, and went fishing out the win- 
 dow for a good fat turkey or chicken, seldom pul- 
 ling it up without a 'haul.' He used to say this was 
 ' fowling ' with a fish-hook. The fowl would be 
 cooked for the father by the servants of the jailer, 
 who never suspected from whence they came. I 
 will conclude this sketch with the following charade, 
 by an admirer of Mr. Cudmore's sister, which was 
 sent to that lady : — 
 
 ' What the cow chews, and the reverse of less, 
 Is the liame of the lady 1 wish to possejs.' 
 
 A LETTER in the London Times says: — ' The Irish 
 peasantry for 200 years past have been directly de- 
 pending on the land for support, without possessing 
 any rights in the land. This condition in a dense 
 population was far worse than that of serfage ; for 
 if the serf is bound to the soil, the soil also is 
 merous anecdotes °told of his mistakes in spelling j bound to him, and answerable for his support, 
 words and substituting one word for another. He j while the Irish peasant had not even the guarantee 
 had occasion at one time to address a man j of a Poor Law until our own time. Under a really 
 whose Christian name was Jacob, and he spelled it j free system of dealing with landed property, the 
 so ingeniously that, although there was not a right [ position of the peasantry would have been remedied 
 letter in it, the man could not deny but that his j in a generation or two by a system of leases entor- 
 name was spelled. Cudmore wrote it— G-e-k-u-p. | ed into, as they are in the best parts of England and 
 
 In a letter from Paris, he wrote home that he was 
 about to marry a ' Marquis,' mistaking that title 
 for ' Marchioness,' to which latter he was intro- 
 duced, but, indeed, never married. 
 
 Scotland, for the mutual advantage of landlord and 
 tenant. But in Ireland the system of dealing with 
 land, though free as against the tenant, was not so 
 in favor of the landlord. The laws wore to bad, 
 
 Mr. Cudmore had no taste for music, and could ! and so badly administered, that, as we now know, 
 notbeartohearapianist. Therewasakindofmubic, I it was very easy to encumber property and very 
 however, which he loved to hear, and that was the ' difiicult to sell it. The state of the peasantry de- 
 bugle of the huntsman and the baying of the hound. ! pendent on the land, and yet without rights in the 
 
 When on horseback he was generally the foremost, 
 and, on foot, he flew past them, and almost kept 
 pace with the hounds. 
 
 When hunting amid the hills of his native coun- 
 try, he would stop at the farmers' houses, on the 
 
 land, was perpetuated by this course, while the 
 evils of this state of things were increased by the 
 increase of population and the consequent increase 
 of the competition for land. All this, however, 
 would have been insufficient to produce that horri- 
 
 way, and tell them to have the dinner ready when 1 ble social disease of which agraiian outrage is the 
 he came back. If asked by a friend what his ob- j symptom, were it not for the moral separation be- 
 
 ject was in ordering so many dinners, he would say, 
 ' How the divil do we know what way we may 
 come back,' and thus he made provision. 
 
 He ran a race with another gentleman in Limer- 
 ick for a bet of £50. His opponent was much 
 slighter than himself, and it was generally expected 
 that Cudmore would be beatei.. The race was from 
 the oyster cello 
 
 twcen the landlord and the tenant classes, which 
 began in conquest and has been perpetuated by reli- 
 gious alienation.' 
 
 Frbscii Troops for Amisrica. — ThePari') corres- 
 pondent of the London Wews suys : — ' Jt is true that a 
 batiullion of infantry and three batteries of artillery 
 with horses and iquipiuents, complete for service, wiij 
 I'homas street, to a point on | embark at Toulon immediately for Ceutral America.' 
 
 the Cork road, and return, a distance of about a | We do not ihiuk the Emperor mad enough fur that 
 mile. They started off, and, on the way back, his jet. 
 
348 
 
 IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 FOREIGN INTELLIGENCE. 
 
 IRELAND. 
 
 Id the abscDce of more interesting items, wo lay be- 
 fore oar readers several articles froiii the leading Irish 
 joamals, showing the state of afl'uirs in that country of 
 persceation and tyranny: — 
 
 Thk Kazzia in Cobk. — Once more, amidst lying 
 boasts of the placid ' loyality ' of Ireland, the gov- 
 ernment jailers have made a swoop for prey ; once 
 more government dungeons open to receive * crimi- 
 nals ' whose ' crime ' id hatred of English rule in 
 Ireland, 
 
 On Wednesday last there were brought into Cork 
 city, from their distant homes in Carbery and Ilan- 
 try fifteen prisoners, charged with being mcrahers of 
 a confederation sworn to strike for the indepcnden'!e 
 of Ireland. They hod been seized unawares, and 
 ■with all the stage action and ostentation of brute 
 force which is supposed by our rulers to constitute 
 the ' great moral lesson,' more commonly called 
 ' striking terror." 
 
 As the dungeon door swung open to receive the 
 cavalcade, and the gazers caught amidst the throng 
 of Sbirri — a score for every prisoner — a glimpse of 
 the victims, no fierce outlaws or frowning conspira- 
 tors, no powerful leaders or aged rebels, met the 
 view. A small band of youths, most of them scarce 
 past boyhood, all of them, however, with the glow 
 of fine manly spirit and the stamp of intelligence 
 and education on their brows, passed through the 
 dismal portal with a smile of disdain worthy of 
 veteran patriots. Enthusiasts mayhap they ; but 
 theirs, manifestly, was that enthusiasm which 
 springs from virtuous and noble feelings ; that en- 
 thusiasm which in countries wheie patriotism is no 
 crime raises its posessor to fame, honor, and re- 
 ward. 
 
 Not many weeks have passed away since the 
 falsely speaking journals of England strove to barb 
 their insults against an illustrious Irishman, who 
 staked his life in protest against robber rule in this 
 country, by boasting that the island was as loyal, 
 tranquil, and contented as Kent or Essex. And 
 European nations were invited to witness the proof 
 that the illustrious patriot was a criminal, by the 
 acquiescent indorsement of the policy he resisted, 
 and repudiation of the doctrines he preached, by 
 his own countrymen. Yet, lo ! to-day, a whole 
 country ii convulsed by the violence of legal terror- 
 ism ; bayonets flashing at every point, midnight 
 marauding by law, illegal seizures, and armed 
 patrols supply a strange commentary on that boast. 
 If more were wanted it is supplied in the crowning 
 •pectaclc of Wednesday last — a government boast- 
 ing itself one of the 'Great Powers of Europe' — a 
 government boasting that Ireland is as little in dan- 
 ger of rebellion as Kent or Essex — thrown into in- 
 sane fright at the first whisper of 'sedition,' grasp- 
 ing wildly at the very air, and expending a force all 
 bat safhclent to win another Hohenlinden in conquer- 
 ing — fifteen unarmed and defenceless youths. This fact 
 speaks volumes for the cant of English joumalisw. 
 Let it be known from Naples to St. Petersburg that 
 England it at this moment exhausting the ragged 
 remnant of what troops the Indian sun and Sepoy 
 sword have not wasted, and a still more miserable 
 horde of rufiian spies, m a contest with the old foe — 
 ' Irish rebellion.' And her first great victory, after 
 taking ample lime to select the quarry, nnd make aire 
 of the hi|;he»i game, has been — proclaim it, U ! Pur- 
 suivants ! — a midnight kidnapping of a few yoang law 
 students and school boys seized in their beds. 
 
 A move so gigantic will surely convince all Europe 
 that the Titanic statesmanship of Pitt and Fo.x — the 
 days of Vittoria and Waterloo — were not within many 
 degrees of the culmination of Britain's greatness. 
 Bonaparte at St. Helena might have been deemed a 
 proof that England was arbitress •f the world's desti- 
 nies ; but little Master Downing ("aged sixteen years) 
 the state prisoner in Cork jail, must strike the Menschi- 
 kofTs of Europe pale with awe ! Austria only showed 
 
 how weak was her hold on Italy by seizing a Poerio ; 
 Naples only exhibits its paltriness by fearing the D in- 
 dierras ; hut as for England, so omnipotent is she, so 
 attached to her rule in Ireland, that nothing less than 
 armament of not less than a whole dozen of youths — 
 all at least over fiCleen years — would bo deemed suffi- 
 cient to cull forth alarm and action from her. 
 
 Well, so it is ; wo arc in the midst of arrests and 
 proclamation once more ; so it is, there is no rest for 
 British rule in this country ; each generation has to be 
 fought as it rises ; and so it will bo, until, at last, the 
 generation of Success is born. We may fall as onr 
 sires and grandsires did ; but our children will refuse 
 to accept the result of our efforts as we did that of our 
 ancestors. When the national spirit of a country has 
 no wiser oi more useful field afforded for its action, 
 enthusiam will drive generous and fewless youth into 
 courses only more attractive because perilous. Here 
 are a number of young men, not the turbulent or the 
 thoughtless, but most exemplary in conduct, virtuous 
 and honorable in principle, and respectable in position 
 in their respective districts. There is not a country in 
 Europe, the most weak, the most tyrannical, where such 
 youths would be consigned to a State Prison. It must 
 be a wretched state of things when such as they fall 
 victims to the fears of an executive and the senseless 
 bellowing ot ' alarmists,' who, scorning the words of 
 kindly exposlulation moat adapted to curb and sway 
 honest enthusiasm, took to the furious denunciation 
 which has wrought the government work, and put a 
 jailer's fetters on warm-spirited youths.whom a friend- 
 ly course, a kiildly expostulation, would have saved to 
 home and friends. Are these fifteen frank and fearless 
 boys, who walked into Cork jail on Wednesday last, 
 like speakers ascending the public rostrum, specimens 
 of the ' vile miscreants,' the ' merciless monsters, ' 
 whom the government — the excellent government — was 
 upon the other day in such foam and fury to arrest, 
 hang, and transport t We said, at the time, that a de- 
 plorably mistaken course was adopted by the ' de- 
 nounccts ' — we saw that when alarm — such alarm, too 
 — as raised from a quarter so peculiar, the government 
 would only too gladly respond and renew the reign of 
 handcuffs and menacles. We did not remain silent 
 when we saw the danger, but tried, ere it was too late, 
 to point out, as true friends, the errors of enthusiasm, 
 and endeavored to baulk tbc terrorists of their pastime. 
 We were howled at, on one side, by the alarmists, and 
 yelped at, on the other, by those who seem competent 
 only to carp and snarl at all endeavors not their own. 
 
 We, however, are not in the habit of being put out 
 of our course by either ' alarmists ' or ' snarlers,' and 
 it will now be seen thiit had both seconded our efforts 
 to guard those honest-hearted young men, the ' law ' 
 pariy would be less like ' victors ' just now in Cork. 
 But we can assure the Great Government Warriors 
 that we have more than a belief that the youthful pris- 
 oners will prove victors in the end, and walk out of 
 the dungeon more proudly than they walked in, and, 
 perhaps, ' try a fall ' with their captors on a fairer field 
 another day. — [Nation. 
 
 Landlokdism in the North. — It is all very well 
 to reiterate the hacknied apothegm that ' property has 
 its rights,' but no one seems to think the expression 
 incomplete and wanting in its natural adjunct. 
 Here and there, to be sure, it has been acknowledged 
 that ' properly has its duties as well as its rights ;' but 
 even this does not complete the idea, which should be 
 expressed in some such terms as these : — ' Property 
 has its duties as well as its righLs, but it does not con- 
 fer the privilege, thoujjh it may give the power, of per- 
 petrating wrong and injustice. .As a general rule, ours, 
 as far as the landlords of the country are concerned, is 
 a most ungracious vocation, so rarely have we, when 
 adverting to their relations with their tenantry, to re- 
 cord any a«t of whi'hwc can speak in terms of ap- 
 proval. This surely ought not to be the case with a 
 class of men who have it in their power to confer so 
 many benefits on those whom fortune has favored so 
 little, so far, at least, as worldly subsistance is concern- 
 ed. Amongst the most recent acts of landlord orro- 
 I gance and injustice is one which occurred the other 
 
 day in the parish of Drumbcg, county of Down. In 
 this parish of Druinbeg, Mr. George Macklin, a gentle- 
 man possessing a very handsome property in another 
 portion of the district, also hold a farm of about fifty 
 acres, as tenant at will to lluhcrt Batt, Esq., of I'ur- 
 dysburn. Mr. Macklin being, as we have said, him- 
 self a large landowner, did all he could to improve the 
 farm by availing himself of all the means and appli- 
 ances which the most modern system of agriculture af- 
 forded for that purpose. Tlie condition of the land 
 when he entered upon it was extremely unpromising, 
 being cut into a number of fields, causing much un- 
 productive waste, owing to the number of ditches re- 
 quired ; but so utterly did Mr. Macklin change all this 
 that he obtained the medal awarded by the Drumbcg 
 Agriculinral Society, for having effected more drainage 
 on his land than had been created by any other farmer 
 of the district, after having taken down the hedges and 
 made out of the twelve fields only four, all of which 
 are in an admirable conditition, and thoroughly 
 drained. 
 
 Now, on one of the high grounds of this farm,there 
 is a range of houses, not much the better for having 
 been erected about a century and a half ago ; and, 
 about a month or two since, it suddenly occurred to 
 Mr. Robert Batt, the owner of the farm, that these 
 dwellings should be repaired ; and in this, it will be 
 said, their was nothing either very unnatural or very 
 unjust ; but Mr. Batt went considerably further, and 
 insisted that the domiciles should be remodelled like- 
 wise. This, too, would have been tolerably unobjec- 
 tionable had Mr. Batt, as proprietor of the premises, 
 chosen to remodel them at his own cost. But he chose 
 to do no such thing. Mr. Batt insisted that his tenant, 
 Mr. Macklin, should lay out of his own pocket an 
 enormous sum for turning topsey-turvey and re-erect- 
 ing on plans proposed by him, Mr. Batt, the whole of 
 these premises, which, excepting as out-houses, were of 
 no earthly use to the tenant. Nevertheless, the land- 
 lord demanded that his tenant should either surrender 
 the farm or construct the house on the expensive and 
 fanciful plan which he requested him closely to adopt, 
 or quit the farm. It is scarcely necessary to add that 
 the latter did not submit to the the unjust and unreason- 
 able demand of his arbitrary landlord, but surrendered 
 the farm, although he had laid out several hundred 
 pounds in improving it. Now, in this instance, the 
 tenant being a person of independent means and 
 abundant resources elsewhere, merely loses the fruits 
 of his labor and some hundred pounds ; but these arbi- 
 tr u:v and unjust acts are committed day after day 
 against tenants, who, when thus driven from their hold- 
 ings, have nothing in the wide world left them where- 
 with to support themselves and their families — desti- 
 tution or an almshou.se, ruin or emigration, being. ahe 
 only alternative between which they are permitted to 
 choose. Who, then, can feel surprised at the outcry 
 against the excess to which landlords carry what they 
 term their rights, whilst they wholly neglect not only 
 the duties the possession of property imposes on them, 
 but the great commandment which enjoins every Chris- 
 tian to love his neighbor as himself, and to do unto 
 others as he would himself be done by. It is the crimi- 
 nal disregard of these duties which has thrown ihe 
 country half a century back; it is the determination to 
 resist the reasonable claims of the tenant classes for 
 compensation of their outlays thithas brought us back 
 to the days of proclamati jns, informers,and state trials, 
 with thi ir gloomy train of concomitant evils. A month 
 during this reign of terror may do more misehi=f,cause 
 more niiserv, and produce more calamities and disas- 
 ters than years will be able to repair. The progress 
 and prosperity which were beginning to smile percepti- 
 bly in the distance may be scared away for Heaven 
 only knows how long, and the fair prospects of the 
 country be blighted at the very instant they seemed to 
 have reached the point of realization. But what good 
 will be effected by the means to which the government 
 has been seemingly constrained by the political party 
 to which it belongs to resort ? Whilst the cause re- 
 mains, the effect will ever be more or less the same. It 
 is the old lesson with the old moral attached to 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 349 
 
 There must be a concession in somo shape after all, 
 and the sooner it, therefore, comes the bettor,and more 
 darable will the effect be. Expediency is a term which 
 should bo struck out of the vocabulary of statesmen, 
 since whatever is accorded by them under that name 
 loses its value, and fails in the object for which it is 
 granted. Justice to the people, and not fear of them, 
 should preside both in the council chamber and senate, 
 where a government desires to render a nation truly 
 happy and prosperous. — [Telegraph. 
 
 The Ootraoe Manufactory. — Since last we 
 wrote, the Daily Express has done another stroke of 
 business in the outrage line, not a bad thing either, 
 though by no means up to the Gason mark ; however, 
 now that the machinery is being perfected and perma- 
 nently fixed, we are satisfied that the manufacture will 
 go on well as to quantity and quality for the future, 
 and, in fact, defy competition. An account appeared 
 in the Dublin murder journal some days since, of the 
 ' attempted assassination ' of Mr. Dudley Byrne; no 
 sooner did Mr. Byrne see the falsehood than he wrote 
 to contradict it ; the contradiction was refused inser- 
 tion. More need not be said on this affair. With 
 leference to the Gason romance, the Express publishes 
 a letter addressed by the editor to the solicitors of the 
 famous Mr. Gason, requiring them to commence their 
 threatened legal proceedings on the following day, and 
 declaring, that should they not do so, he (the editor) 
 would at once bring Mr. Gason's conduct fully before 
 the public. Having recived no reply, the editor of the 
 Express has published his letter to the legal gentlemen, 
 with some introductory remarks, in which he says 
 that — 
 
 ' The details of the alleged outrage fell far short of 
 Mr. Gason's extraordinary statements, which he con- 
 firmed by affecting to faint in the railway carriage 
 from loss of l)lood, and thus he succeeded incomplete- 
 ly deceiving two gentlemen who travelled with him to 
 Dublin in the train.' 
 
 But however this may be. the man was not murdered 
 or attacked, and why did not the Express say so, or 
 allow him to say so, xad thus remove the slander from 
 the character of the people ? And Mr. Byrne was not 
 attacked ; why deny him the opportunity of contradict- 
 ing the report in the journal in which it first appeared ? 
 Bat, perhaps, there is no occasion to contradict any- 
 thing which appears in that quarter, where the outrages 
 that most frequently occur are outrages on Christian 
 feeling, assassinations of the truth, and attacks on 
 common honesty. — [Nation. 
 
 Akeival in Galway of the Passengees from 
 THE Indian Empire. — The arrangements for convey- 
 ing the passengers from Broadhaven to Galway were 
 most satisfactorily effected by Mr. Salt. We under- 
 stand that he received a communication from Belmul- 
 let, on Saturday evening, about ten o'clock, stating 
 that the Indian Empire was in Broadhaven, on which 
 he immediately arranged to go by the Tubal Cain to 
 Broadhaven, and arrived there on Sunday night. Cap- 
 tain Courtenay, of the Indian Empire, immediately 
 came on board the Tubal Cain, and, after a hearty 
 welcome, Mr. Salt, on his own responsibility, had 
 brought the Tubal Cain to convey them to Galway, if 
 they wished. The passengers immediately and unani- 
 mously agreed to avail themselves of this offer, with 
 the exception of a few who had gone to Balmullet,and 
 a part of these actually returned to the steamer when 
 they heard of her arrival. On Monday morning the 
 passengers and their luggage were put on board the 
 Tubal Cain, and a seven days supply of provisions 
 with wine and spirits, of which the Indian Empire had 
 itill a sufficiency ; also seven of the cooks &c. of the 
 Indian Empire accompanied the passengers to Gal- 
 way, where they arrived safely on Tuesday morning. 
 Previous to the sailing of the Tubal Cain from Broad- 
 haven, Captain Thompson arrived, and was much 
 pleased with the prompt and efficient arrangements 
 made by Mr. Salt, who, it appears, had sent a special 
 messenger from Westport to Galway, requesting him 
 to come as soon as possible, and also telegraphed to 
 Mr. Lever, in London, Manchester, and Dublin, in- 
 forming him what had been done. Tba possengtrt 
 
 evidently had so much confidence in Captain Courte- 
 nay that they acted entirely under his advice, and ho 
 proved himself a clever captain in acaae of emergency. 
 — [Galway Vindicator. 
 
 Ireland and India. — The Queen of England has 
 at length been proclaimed sole mistress of India. John 
 Company is thrust behind the scenes to plod on as a 
 species of supernumerary, whilst Victoria henceforward 
 'incedit regina' on the vast theatre of Hindostan. But 
 the document which announces this change of mana- 
 gers, and promises a change of management,as a natu- 
 ral consequence, is in many points worthy of note. 
 Though it does not, for instance, expressly state that 
 all the misrule and injustice hitherto practised are to 
 be attributed to the company, it tacitly insinuates as 
 much, when it makes some concessions and promises 
 others, against which the deposed magnates of Leaden- 
 hall street and Canon row so long set their faces. But 
 the question is, would these boons have been granted 
 even if the present regime existed from the beginning 
 of British rule in India, if there had been no Sepoy 
 mutiny, no general rising of the natives 1 Judging 
 from the instincts and tendencies of governments in 
 general, the English not excepted, we verily believe 
 that things would have been allowed to go on in the 
 old way. The natives would have been ground down, 
 kicked, buffetted, taxed beyond their strength, plun- 
 dered to their last marvedie, and compelled to aid 
 England in the furtherance of the annexation policy, 
 which she now, at the eleventh hour, when it is too 
 late, renounces — all this, we honestly believe, would 
 have occurred fi om the beginning under the govern- 
 ment of the Queen as well as it did under the East 
 India Company, if, as we have said before, there had 
 been no revolt from one extremity of the Peninsula to 
 the other. It has ever been the same in almost every 
 country. No concessions were made to Ireland till 
 they could no longer be withheld, save at imminent 
 risk of consequences fatal to the empire at large. The 
 same grudging policy is still followed, and will be ad- 
 hered to till circumstances compel the powers that be 
 to abandon it. — [Telegraph. 
 
 Mr. Lever has paid another visit to Belfast, with 
 important objects in view. He inspected the harbor 
 and the dock accommodation provided by Belfast, as 
 he is desirous that the repairs of the vessels of the 
 trans- Atlantic Company should be entrusted to the 
 workmen of that port and Cork. The party, accom- 
 panied by Capt. White, harbor master, examined the 
 patent slip, with the details of which Mr. Lever seem- 
 ed perfectly familiar; They next visited the works at 
 the iron shipbuilding yard on Queen's Island. The 
 visitors then proceeded to the premises of Mr. Victor 
 Coates, and when shown some of the large boilers in 
 the course of construction there, Mr. Lever expressed 
 his surprise at the number of boilers constructed in 
 Belfast for the ship-builders of the Clyde. 
 
 Testimonial to Capt. Codrtenay. — We take 
 the following from the Morning Chronicle : — ' We are 
 glad to learn that the underwriters are about to pre 
 sent Captain Courtenay, commander of the steamship 
 Indian Empire, with a present of a handsome piece of 
 plate for his meritorious conduct, skill and perse- 
 verence in bringing the steamship safely through the 
 late fearful gales and hurricance which raged in the 
 Atlantic Ocean during the past three weeks, the ves- 
 sel having been thirty days on the passage and ten 
 days short of fuel.' 
 
 UcssiAN AND Irish Serfs. — The Polish land- 
 owners are copying from the Irish landlords — they are 
 serving their serfs with notices to quit ! But the Rus- 
 sian government in Poland — unlike the English gov- 
 ernment in Ireland — are protecting them against the 
 exterminators. The law courts have decided that the 
 serfs cannot be expelled from the land, and that the 
 peasants have a right to claim certain lands the mo- 
 ment they are emancipated. 
 
 Lord Castlerose has contributed the very liberal 
 donation of one hundred pounds towards the build- 
 ing of the new convent of St. Bridget, at Gores- 
 bridge, county Kilkenny. 
 
 The Moniteur publishes an official notification 
 from Admiral Rigault de Ocnouilly, Commander- 
 in-Chief of the French and Spanish forces in Cochin 
 China, that on and i fter the first of September, 
 185S, the bay and river of Tourane and the port of 
 Cham-Callao are declared in strict blockade. All 
 vessels attempting to force the blockade will be 
 treated according to the usages of the Internal 
 law. 
 
 The Patrie says the proceedings in the appeal of 
 M. Montalembert had been fixed for the 24th De- 
 cember. 
 
 The minister of commerce, in answer to a me- 
 morial from the chamber of commerce of Havre, 
 complaining of the injury suffered by French com- 
 merce in consequence of the state of affairs in Mex- 
 ico, has informed the chamber that their complaint 
 has been communicated to the minister of foreign 
 affairs, who has consulted with his colleague, the 
 minister of marine, as to the measures which it may 
 be necessary to take. 
 
 The commander of the French squadron on the 
 African coast reports to the minister of marine that 
 a fresh difficulty has arisen, a French vessel, load- 
 ed with free negroes, having been overhauled by 
 the English cruisers, and forced to reland the im- 
 migrants, although the operation was perfectly reg- 
 ular. 
 
 ITALY. 
 
 The greatest activity reigns in the arsenal of 
 Venice, the number of workmen there has been 
 doubled, and warlike stores of all sorts are be- 
 ing brought in. Several arrests have taken place 
 at Milan, and seventeen students have been arrest- 
 ed at Pavia. 
 
 It is affirmed that the Sardinian government has 
 sent to its diplomatic agents abroad a circular rela- 
 tive to the rumors of a war with Austria, declaring 
 that nothing whatever hitherto has arisen to con- 
 firm such assertions. 
 
 SPAIN. 
 
 Letters from Spain state that the expedition to 
 Mexico will be on a larger scale than was supposed. 
 
 FOUR DAYS LATER FROM EUROPE. 
 AEEIVAL OF THE STEAMER FULTON AT HALIFAX. 
 
 Halifax, Dec. 31. Steamship Fulton, from Cowes, 
 Dec. 15th, arrived here at 4 o'clock this afternoon. 
 She put in for coal. Has experienced a succession 
 of violent westerly gales for ten days. 
 
 Steamship Canada, from Boston via Halifax, and 
 the City of Baltimore, from Now York, had arrived 
 at Liverpool. 
 
 It is announced that Lord Abercrombie will suc- 
 ceed Lord Napier as Minister to Washington. 
 
 The American and European Steamship Com- 
 pany are about to wind up their affairs, and dis- 
 solve. 
 
 The new steamers for the Galway line are to be 
 ready for service by June next. 
 
 The advices from India by the Fulton were main- 
 ly anticipated by telegraph from Suez, forwarded 
 per steamer Asia. 
 
 Fort Simree, in Oude, was taken by Brigadier 
 Eveleigh on the 9th, with thelossof only two Euro- 
 peans killed, and three or four wounded. 
 
 Tantia Topee is in the Satpoorah hills, the out- 
 lets of which are closely guarded. 
 
 Advices from Indore are of Nov. 23. The Nanab 
 of Banga has separated from the rebels and has 
 gone to Gen. Mitchell's camp, en route to Indore 
 Samuenwarre. The remaining rebel leaders have 
 given themselves up to government. 
 
 Russia. — The nobles are unwilling to emancipate 
 their serfs without full indemnification. 
 
 Spain. — The Emperor of Morocco has given up, 
 without conditions, the officers and soldiers who 
 were captured by the Riffraff Arabs. 
 
55t) 
 
 miSH MlSCELLAJrr. 
 
 THE SEIGNEURS AND THE BERTS. | 
 
 Any one who ha< looked into the hintory of the 
 land qiiCAtion on the continent — in France, in Prus- ' 
 <ia — will have no hcaitaiion in prediclin^ tliatwith [ 
 xts ta with the people of Britoin, the s-trupylc will 
 tirmmatc quite as triumpliantly. It ia one of these i 
 que.-'lious which, once (imitated, must be solved. I 
 Loidloids may adopt a Fiiliian policy or put off, by 
 •tratrpy, what they consider, and most absurdly, j 
 the ' evil day ;' but come it will, as certain as sun- 
 light returns after darkness, or the flow follows the | 
 ebb. 
 
 It is a law of nature and of Ood, man shall eat 
 bread by the sweat of his brow. Civilization pro- I 
 grosses towards the aehicvment of equal enjoyment 
 and tqiial labor, else civilization would be — as is 
 that foul system to which feudalism misapplies the 
 name — a raid, a bauble, a deception and a curse. It 
 is uunecessary to travel beyond the shores of Ire- 
 land to behold the cruiliy with which the pea-ient 
 population is jostled aside to make way for the late 
 agencies of Mammon and Malthus ; every useful 
 improvement de.-igned to lessen human toil and ani- 
 mal suffering is uset", not for the comfort or happi- 
 ness of a greater number of human beings, but to 
 extend the waste and the consolidation of propert)', 
 to invert the plan of God Almighty, and make man 
 a creature to be swept off or retained for the ser- 
 vice of the beasts of the field. 
 
 Farm is laid to farm, and desolation added to 
 desolation ; the farm of one hundred acres is added 
 in new hands to one of two hundred acres, and this 
 again mounts up to a thousand ; the desolation of 
 five thousand is added to the desolation of twenty 
 thousand. And so the work progresses, until, in 
 the Scotti^h Highlands, men, or rather human 
 wolves — creatures for whom it would have puzzled 
 Sydney Smith to find a use — boast of deer forests of 
 one hundred thousand acres, and the periodical 
 death of ten stags slain with a rifle. The Highland 
 glen is desolated after a short process of law in a 
 forenoon. The ancient people, the sons of those 
 who battled under the Scotch Alexander, and cut 
 short the flight of the Koman eagle, wailing go to 
 t^-e emigrant ship, and arc hurled, unprovided, into 
 some densely populated district of Canada, are left 
 homeless on the streets of Quebec, or are forced into 
 the garrets, cellars, and back lanes of manufactur- 
 ing towns, to pine away and die, to add new items 
 to the mass of misery, and new conquests to the hell 
 tf sin. The old West Indian slave owners are now 
 raking the » orld for laborers. The sljve owner of 
 the cotton mill has his sluves driven to his door. 
 He may grind and grind away at their flesh. Fresh 
 victims are flung from the old cottage homes of 
 England, and Scotland, and Ireland, to supply the 
 wa.-te more rapidly than he can consume. And 
 this, forsooih, is progress and civilization. 
 
 The Irish landed proprietors cry out they would 
 be ruined if the League code was enacted. Never 
 was opinion more falliiciou , never was alarm so 
 utterly in violation of fact and e.xperiencee. In 
 France, where a far more radical reform was adopt- 
 ed than that sought for by the League party, small 
 estates fetch forty years' purchase, and along the 
 Rhine £120 and £1J0 an acre has been given by 
 the peasants for land. In Flanders, Arthur Young 
 found that similar prices were given for small es- 
 tates. That the system has produced no unhappi- 
 ness, no famines, no extermination, we have the 
 testimony of later travelKrs. 'When assured that 
 the fruits of their own toil and industry shall be 
 their own property ' to have and to hold,' men will 
 convert a desert into a garden, and sands into gold. 
 The landocrals of this country— yes, even men of 
 less anti- Irish prejudices — scoffjd at those who, 
 fif;een years ago, asserted that there were millions 
 of money in Iieland which would be offered for sale 
 in • email proprietor ' lots. Who, in those days, 
 would have deemed it ought but a madman's craze 
 
 to state that twenty millions sterling would, in a 
 few years, be thus applied if opportunity was af- 
 forded ? 
 
 Then, as now, the narrow-minded and selfish 
 feudalists deemed our estimate of the results of 
 • opening up ' the land to the people, not simply 
 e.Taggerati'd, but fabulous. Hut what say they now 
 to the tale told by the Incumbered Estates Statis- 
 tics — that ouv highest estimates never approached 
 the facts realized in the first ten years after the ex- 
 periment was tried. This was no profound depth 
 of wisdom and foresight ; the proceeding was not 
 such a mere experiment at all. Men looking at 
 what had happened in other countries, could be at 
 no loss to predict the result of unfettering peasant 
 industry. A • mine of wealth ' is that industry, 
 most truly ; and an accursed system is that which 
 seaU it up. 
 
 Peasant industry, emancipated from feudal bond- 
 age, and secured against feudal plunder, has won 
 provinces from the sands of the German Ocean. 
 Peasant industry, if freed from like fetters, secured 
 against like confiscations, would pour wealth over 
 Ireland — the wealth that enriches — the wealth that 
 would raise up smiling villages and happy homes, 
 fertile fields and waving meadows, where now the 
 sportsmun's loot alone breaks the soliiude of nature. 
 ■ Open up the manufacturing resources of the coun- 
 try,' cry those who resist the ' opening up ' of the 
 ' resources ' most valuable and most easily avail- 
 able to the people of this island. The cry is one of 
 those many started betimes to draw off the atten- 
 tion of the people from the ' resource ' of all others 
 most requiring ' opening up ' — the land. Other re- 
 sources, and rich ones, our country does possess, 
 indeed, — mineral and manufacturing, — for Heaven 
 has given to us all the natural features of a prosper- 
 ous and powerful nation. But it would take a cen- 
 tury to place our people in as favorable a position 
 to develop the 'manufacturing "-esources' of Ire- 
 land, as they are at the present moment for develop- 
 ing its agricultural wealth, if only permitted to do 
 so. Lancashire did not become what it is in a year 
 or in a century. Xot only does it take a long 
 period to ■ grow ' manufactures, but it takes a long 
 time to convert a mass of people into a manufactur- 
 ing population. But, in the very localities most 
 needing agricultural development, our people al- 
 ready are an agricultural population ; and why 
 should they tit down to a fifty years' siege of 'manu- 
 facture ?' The land ' resources ' of this country, 
 the ' mine of wealth ' that lies in the peasant's 
 strong right arm — in his patient toil and frugal in- 
 dustry — cry out for development — lor emancipa- 
 tion ; and no demand so rooted in a law of nature, 
 and of man's existence, is fated to tail. Jt is, we 
 repeat, a struggle that must be righted ; it is, we 
 repeat, a contest which elsew here, alter centuries of 
 strife, at length found victory, and will find it here 
 too. The lacerating code of the Seigneurs must 
 vanish from Ireland also, and give emancipation to 
 industry, and protection to life and property. — 
 [Nation. 
 
 At a sale of furniture, which took place in a 
 country town, among the lookers on were some 
 Irish laborers, and upon a trunk being put up for 
 sale, one of them said to his neighbor : — 
 
 ' Pat, I think you should buy that trunk." 
 
 ' An' what should I do with it :' replied Pat, with 
 some degree of astonishment. 
 
 ' Put your clothes in it,' was the reply. 
 
 Pat gazed on him with a look of surprise, and 
 then with that laconic eloquence, vhich is peculiar 
 to a son of the Emerald iole, exclaimed, • Au' go 
 naked,' 
 
 Tub weathercock, after all, points to the highest 
 moral truth, for it shows man Uiat it is a 'vane' thing 
 to a 'a spire.' 
 
 VARIOUS ITEMS. 
 
 A MAN in battle is not allowed to whistle to keep 
 his courage up. and whistling of the bullets doesn't 
 have that tendency. 
 
 ' How changeable' the wind is," said Mrs. Par- 
 tington, upon her return fro:n a walk in the city; 
 'it is the changcablest thing I ever did see. W'hen 
 1 went up Cannon street, it w as blowing in my face, 
 and when I turned to go down, it went blowin' on 
 my back !' 
 
 TuK bridegroom and bride give each other their 
 hands at the altar as prize fighters thake bands be- 
 fore the flght. 
 
 Few have been taught to any purpose who have 
 not been jireatly their own teachers. 
 
 Prejudice, like a perspeciive glass, magnifies 
 things at one end and diminishes them at the 
 other. 
 
 ' What is the meaning of a backbiter ?' said a rev- 
 erend gentleman during examination at a parochial 
 school. This was a puzzle. It went down the 
 class till it came to a simple little urchin, who said, 
 ' Perhaps it be a flea.' 
 
 Docs of every kind, .setters, pointers, bulls. New- 
 foundlands, mastiffs, and terriers, are all ' lap ' dogs 
 when they aic drinking. 
 
 A noESE jockey, who incautiously burned his fin- 
 gers by taking up his toast from the fire, and broke 
 the plate by letting it f.ill, observed that it was too 
 bad to lose the plate after winning the heat. 
 
 CiiEEKFULNESS. — Cheerfulness is the daughter of 
 employment, and 1 have known a man to come 
 home in high spirits from a funeral because he had 
 the management of it.— [Dr. Home. 
 
 Bound to Stick it Out. — Two unsophisticated 
 country lasses visited the Academy during the Ravel 
 season. When the short- skirted, gossaiuer-clad 
 nymphs made their appearance on the stage, the 
 country girls became restless and fidgety. 
 
 ' Oh, Annie !' exclaimed one, sotto voce. 
 
 ' Well, Mary ?' 
 
 ' It ain't nice — I don't like it.' 
 
 ' Hush, the folks will notice you." 
 
 ' I don't care, it ain't nice, and I wonder aunt 
 brought us to such a place.' 
 
 ' Hush, Mary, the folks will laugh at you.' 
 
 After one or two flings and a ' pironette,' the 
 blushing Mary again said — 
 
 ' Oh, Annie, let's go, it ain't nice, and I don't 
 feel comfortable.' 
 
 ' Do hush, Mary,' replied the sister, whose own 
 face was scarlet, though it wore an air of determi- 
 nation. 'It's the first time I was at a theatre, and 
 I suppose it will be the last, so I am just a going to 
 stay it out, if they dance every rag off their backs.' 
 
 As Oiivious Infeke.nce. — An Iowa orator, wish- 
 ing to describe his opponent as a soulless man, said, 
 ' I have heard some persons hold the opinion that 
 just at the precise moment after one human being 
 dies another is born, and tie soul enters and ani- 
 mates the new-born babe. Now, I have made^par- 
 ticular and extensive inquiries concerning my op- 
 ponent thar, and I find that for some hours before 
 he drew his breath, nobody died. Fellow citizens, 
 I leave you to draw the inference.' 
 
 Procuastination. — A mother, admonishing her 
 son (a lad about seven years of age), told him he 
 should never defer till to-morrow what he could do 
 to-day. The little urchin replied, ' Then, mother, 
 let's eat the remainder of the plum-pudding to- 
 night.' 
 
 TiiEATHiCAL Free Admissions. — ' Who was the 
 first man recorded in history w ho didn't pay ?' said 
 Power, who was just handing an order to a friend. 
 ' Why, really, I never gave it a thought,' replied 
 his friend. ' Why, Joseph, of course,' said Power; 
 ' didn't hit brothers put him into the pit for noth- 
 ing >* 
 
IRISH MlSCELLAljrr, 
 
 051 
 
 ADVERTISEMENTS. 
 
 MERCANTILE AND WRITING SCHOOL, 
 
 E. J. GLEESON, Mastkr. 
 
 Tlds So^ool is now opened nt No. 23 roaTLAND STREiTr, 
 a few doors f out h of Uoolcj '« ICxcliunse Hold, wjicrc il 
 felpot nnd limited luimbei- olthc Yoiitli of both sexoa wil 
 be admitted ; time from 9 A. JI. to 12 51., and l"i om 2 1". M. 
 toSF. il. 
 
 TER^rS MODERA TE. 
 
 EVFNING SCHOOL! 
 
 This Fchool will be opened in tl^e i^nme place on the flrgt 
 eveuinp of next month, where adults and tlio.-ie of riper 
 year;*, will be carefully and a.-^siduously insti-ucted in the 
 T.arious braucbm ot learuin?, suitable to their callin;^. 
 
 *" BOOK-KEICriNG : 
 
 Mr. Gleeson venture.s to say. and pledges himself withput 
 lie.>^iIation. that he will qualify young gentlemen for the 
 Counting Room, in half the time that is consumed in simi- 
 lar institutioua iu this city, and at considerable less ex- 
 pense. 
 
 August 17th, 1858. oug28 
 
 ADVERTISEMENTS. 
 
 OLD COLONY IIQUSE. 
 
 PATRICK llOLLV begs leave to announce to his pat- 
 rons and the public gener. My that he has couBtauily 
 Oil hand at his old and well-known stand, 
 
 THE OLD COLONY HOUSE, 
 
 COUNEii OF KKEELAKD AND SOUTH STREETS, 
 A CIIOIOK assoht.mknt of 
 
 pRANDIEg, WINES, SCO I'CII & IRISH 
 
 WHISKEY, CIGARS, &c. &c., 
 
 all o( the very first quality, which can be obtained (oo at 
 
 LOWER RATE 
 
 than elsewhere in tlie market; iu proof of which he invites 
 purchasers to give him a cull. QUg 28 
 
 ADVERTISEMENTS. 
 
 FINE HEADY MADE CLUiHii^JG 
 
 SFKING OVERCOATS. 
 
 BUSINESS COATS, 
 
 FKOCK AJfD DRESS COATS, 
 
 PAJfTS AND VESTS, 
 Good, Sttlish, Well Made Garments, 
 Such ae men of taste and good judgment will wear, can at 
 all times be fouud at our store. 
 Our aim is to produce for our customers the best Ready 
 Made Garments at the lowest possible prices for 
 CASH. 
 
 Headers of this Journal are earnestly tiolicited to exam- 
 ine our goodt? before purchasing. 
 
 J VV . S M I T H & C O., 
 
 Dock Square, corner Elm Street. 
 mjU tf 
 
 SOUTH END CATHOLIC BOOK STORE, 
 
 And Depot for the Sale of thp 
 
 METROPOLITAN A^'D YOUTHS' MAGAZINES. 
 
 WILLIAM KEATING, Agent, 
 
 8 1-2 Harrison Avenue, or at his New Periodical Store, 176 
 
 Harrison Avenue, Boston, Majis., 
 
 Where a great variety of the most popular Books and 
 
 Tapers cam be had at the very lowest prices, 
 
 WILL supply ('lubs, Agents, Canvassers, &,c.. on the 
 tame terms as the Publishers. The lolloHing are 
 the terras— 3 copies will be sent bv mail, to one address, tor 
 one veur S5; 6 copies for SIO; 13 copies for S20; 20 copies 
 for S30. 
 
 !!Ch On the receipt of S3, three copies of the Catholic 
 Youth's Magazine uud one copy of the MetropoJitau wil) 
 be mailed regularly Jorone jear. 
 
 or?* A t'avf sets of the Magazines from the beginning, can 
 be had of the Agent. Also, all new books furnislied ai' 
 sooa as published. ap24 3mos 
 
 J. & R. MURPHY, 
 
 MANDPACTUBERS OF 
 
 SURGICAL AND DEXl'AL INSTEUMENTS- 
 
 CUTLERY, 
 
 AND STliEL WORK OF EVERY KIXD, 
 No. 3 HARVARD PLACE, (opposite the Old South,) 
 
 BOSTON, Mass. 
 [I^Cutlery and Instruments of all kinds Repaired. 
 
 1' auj2S 
 
 GENERAL TICKET OFFICE 
 
 — pou run — 
 
 SOUTHERN AND WESTERN STATES 
 
 AKD 
 
 TUE CAiN'ADAS, 
 
 No. 2 Aliiany Sthket, Boston. 
 
 EDWARD JUVA.V, Agent. 
 
 N. B.— Pa-flBB^je to and from Liverpool, and Bills of Ex- 
 change on England, Ireland and Scotland. 
 
 ap24 ]y 
 
 NORTUERN HOUSE, 
 
 KORTH StiUARE— BOSTON. 
 
 JOHN GLANCY Pkopkietob. 
 
 This House has rooms equal to any flrft class Hotel, and 
 permanent or transient Boarders can be accommodated 
 nearly one half cheaper than at any other House iu the 
 City. 
 
 In the Reading Room can be found all the morning and 
 evening papers, and periodicals of the day, top:ether with 
 an extensive Library, for the free and exclusive use ol 
 the Boarders. 
 
 N. B. Strangers visiting Boston, can always find this 
 douse a Home. 
 
 GILUUKE's SALBM yUADKILLE BAXD. E. Ul'- 
 iOX, Jr., Prompter. Apj ly to f. S. OU.UOIU1 Kh- 
 MX Uaus*. Salku. ilnst- 
 
 TURKEY SALVE 
 
 HEAUS ULCERATED SORES, FELONS, 
 Burns, Whitlow, I'alm Abpcess, skin or water Scrolu- 
 la, Ulcerated Sore Legs, Bruit^es, Chapped Hands, Ulcers in 
 the Neck, Scald Head iu Children, Fronted Feet, Sore Nose, 
 Boil^, Bleeding files. Ulcerated Sore Breast, Sore Nipples, 
 Inflamed Breasts made to supperate in twelve hours, with- 
 out a resort to the 'knife.' There is no Salve before the 
 public so powerful as this, being entirely made from the 
 strongest herbs, roots and barks. It can be reduced so as 
 to be applied to a child one week old, or be made strong 
 enough to dre-^s an ulcer every half hour, even after morti- 
 tication sets iu, so that this salve will do more good iu one 
 day than all others m cue week. 
 
 N. B.— Ij-'i/e my entire attention to healing Ulcerated 
 Sores, and warrant a perlect cure, failing in which I make no 
 charge. My motto ia, 'No cure no pay.' Charges mo.der- 
 ate. 
 
 d41m 
 
 DO'UOUKKE, respectfully informs his Iriends and the 
 . public, that lie keeps constantly on liand COKI'INS 
 ol all sizes and kinds, at hi? Cotlic Manufiictory, No 347 
 l-eueial, between Beach and Ivneelund Streets, Boston, 
 which he will celJ as reasonable as can be bought at any oth- 
 er place iu the city. 
 
 I^. B.— Orders punctually attended to, day ornight. 
 
 Residence. No. 28 South street, Boston. 
 
 tE7*C< rave-Clothes furnished to order at short notice. 
 
 feblS 
 
 FRANCIS GODFREY, 
 
 IMrORTKU AND RESTORER OF 
 
 ITALIAN PAINTINGS, 
 
 AND 3IANUFACrUUEK0F GILT FRAMES, 
 
 12 FitAyKLiN Stkeet, Bostox. 
 
 [C^ Engravings, Lithographs, Crayons, &c., on sale. 
 
 8m 
 
 flUK28 
 
 P . M O U K I S , 
 
 APOTHECARY, 
 
 Comer of Federal and rurchasc mreets, foot of Summer 
 
 street, Boston. 
 
 STRICT peroonal attention paid to compounding Vhvsi 
 ciaii'j. I'le.-criptioiis. A choice selecrloii of I-'uinily 
 Medicines consttmtly on hand. A well selected t^tuck ol 
 genuine imported I'erfuuiery and Fancy Goods. Soda 
 WatorwitU choice Syrups. A large ausortmeut of genuine 
 Uftrmaa Segam ooiutantJy on U&nd. ap6 
 
 THE IRISja VINDICATOR. 
 
 A WEEKLY KEWSrAl'ER, 
 
 The Best and Cheapest rucLiaiiKD iw AiiBRiOA. 
 
 THIS splendid Taper, which is little over nine piont^hB 
 n existence, has met with tiie 
 
 Mv^ WONDERFUL SUCCESS. 
 
 and has been pri-L.,/ua:'*d bv the Presn and the Tublic to t« 
 
 superior to any othet Irish Weekly in the United Statea. 
 
 It contains each week, the very 
 
 Latest News :FROii evert Cocntv in Ibela:*!) ; 
 
 Original and entertaining 
 
 STORIES AND ANECDOTES, 
 
 and a yariety of Miscellaneous Reading matter, of a oharao- 
 ter which cannot fail to elevate nnd chasten the intel- 
 lectual appetite. The Irish Vindicator is devoted 
 
 fO THE INTERESTS OF IRISHMEN IN AMERICA, 
 and is so cheap as to be within the reach of the poortet. 
 
 ONLY THREE CENTS A COPY. 
 
 THE FOLLOWING AitE THE TERMS 
 
 To ajiy part of the United States, for one year, Sl.BO 
 
 Do. do. do. for 8 months, 1.00 
 
 Do. do. do. for 4 mouths, 0.60 
 
 Do. do. do. for 1 month, 0.12 
 
 To any part of (.'anada or the British I'rovinces, one year 
 
 ®2,00— All payments iu advance. 
 
 FOR ADVERTieiKG, 
 
 12 lines, single insertion Sl.OO | 12 lines, 1 month, ?2.50 
 
 12 do. 3 months, 6.50 [12 do. 1 year, 16.00 
 
 Published every week, at the Office, No 10 Spruce street 
 
 New York, by the Proprietor 
 
 New York, 
 
 EDWARD DOWNES CONKERY & CO. 
 
 rch 27 
 
 THE SOUTHERN CITIZEN. 
 
 TS published weekly at Kuoxville, Tennessee, by JOHN 
 MITCHELL & WM. <j. SWAN, at S3 per annum, or 
 Si for six mouths, payable invariably in advance. 
 
 Mr. Mitchell having commenced in the 28th number of 
 the paper, a series of Letters addressed to the Hon. Alex- 
 ander a. Stephens of Georgia, which when completed will 
 furnish an entire history ot 
 
 THE IRISH TROUBLES OF 1348, 
 
 With their Causes and Consequences, 
 
 The Southern Citizen will be the more interesting to both 
 American and Irish readers. Besides these contributious 
 from Mr. Mifchel, the Southern Citizen will continue to 
 have its usual quantity of original matter upon political 
 and literary subjects prepared by hiin. Ihe ciiculation, 
 though large and constantly increasing, the proprietors 
 have thought will be much more extended by an announce- 
 ment in this torm. 
 
 Communications with remittances may be addresedto 
 Mitchel & Swan, Knoxville, Tennessee, or to any of the 
 following Agents: 
 
 S <ji Courtenay & Co, Charleston, S C; Thomas B O'Con- 
 nor, Savannah. Oa; J C Morgan, New Orleans, La; Jas A 
 Oentry, Richmond, Va; Alexander Adamson, Washington 
 city; Talliuage& Tunner, <.'inciiiiiati,0; IM Havertv, 110 
 Fulton street, N Y; S 11 Ooet/el, 33 Dauphin street. Mobile 
 Ala; Benj B Davis, Mal^onic BuiiUing, Montgomer\ , Ala; 
 Ross & Toucey, 121 Nassau street, N \ . Mipply dealers only 
 upon reasonable terms; James McOinn, 121 liearney street 
 Sau Francisco. 
 
 •«* Clubs of ten will be supplied with the paper ior S15. 
 
 clubs: CLUBS!! CLUBS!!! 
 
 There is no town or village so small, but a club of six or 
 more subscribers for the II■i^h Miscellany can be easily ob- 
 tained. Will those of our friends who are well-wishers ol 
 the land of their birth, do us the favor of getting up Clubs. 
 Our terms will be— 
 To aclub of six persons sent to one address, 810,00 
 
 To a club of twelve, 19.00 
 
 The whole of the money must invariably be sent at one 
 remittance, and in advance. 
 
 Let all our friends exert themselves, ond by their 
 patronage make the Miscellany thu I'oiemoAt Irish journa 
 on this continent. 
 
 TRAVELLING AGENTS WANTED. 
 
 We have determined to appoint a number of Travelling 
 Agents, to travel in the various States of the Union and 
 canvass for subscribers for this paper We do this at the 
 earnest request of many warm friends, who think we do 
 not take the requisite steps to make the puper knowu as ex- 
 tensively as it ought to be. 
 
 J'ersons desirous of becoming Travelling Agents, who 
 can be well recommended, are rerjucsted to apply at our 
 ofl'.cetorthwith. None but faithful, reliublc n^eu need ap 
 ply. 'io such a liberal comnii.s-ion will be allowed. Apply 
 at ourl'ublicutiou Otlice, 10 Franklin ?tieet, Boston. 
 
 Back Nu.MBEits ol the Miscellany, from the commence 
 mentofthe payer, may be procured through an>**(il our 
 regular agents, or by sending direct to the otlice of publi- 
 cation, No. IG Franklin street, Bostoa. Will our ;,lriendi la 
 waat bear this ikot iu talndf 
 
352 
 
 IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 Mr. p. S. Gilmore, »o long and favorably known 
 18 the accomplished leader of an unrivalled brass 
 band in this city, and for some years subsequently 
 k resident of Salem, has concluded, we are happy to 
 inform our readers, again to take his former posi- 
 tion at the head of his profession in Itoston. Since 
 the palmy days of Ned Kendall, our community has 
 had no more popular musical leader than Mr. Gil- 
 more, and, as it was here he first won, by his un- 
 tiring endeavors at excellence, ' golden opinions 
 from all sorts oi people,' we are confidant his return 
 will be hailed with gratification by all classes. As 
 evidence of the high appreciation by our military 
 friends of his sterling worth, we append the follow- 
 ing complimentary allusions to Mr. tt. from the 
 Boston Journal of last week, a paper, by the way, 
 •low to impart uimerited praise : — • Mr. P. S. Gil- 
 morc's connection with the Salem Brass JUand is at 
 an end, and he is engaged in organizing a military 
 band in this city, to be composed of the best musi- 
 cal talent which can be obtained. Mr. Gilmore's 
 talent as a musician, his gentlemanly manners, com- 
 bined with his business tact and enterprise, well 
 qualify him for the position which he will assume 
 as leader of the new band, and is a sure guaranty of 
 iuccess. This new band will be a great acquisition 
 to the military music of Boston." 
 
 The Journeymen Tailors' Benevolent Society 
 of thia city gave their sixth annual ball at Union 
 Hall on Monday evening, December 27th. The 
 order of dances numbered 21, and the floor was 
 completely covered with the various sets, dancing 
 joyously to the stirring strains of Gilmore's String 
 Bandof bi.x pieces. The ladies looked charmingly in 
 their gay dresses, and with the gentlemen, of whom 
 we cannot say less than that they were both 'gallant 
 and gay,' the ball-room presented a scene of loveli- 
 ness which has seldom been equalled in this city. 
 A more laborious, and withal ill-rtquiied class than 
 the journeymen tailors does not exist, and yet, from 
 •ome unaccountable cause, they are too apt to be 
 tneered at by the thoughtless ; but, if any such 
 ■were at this social gathering, we are sure they must 
 have had their prejudices at once removed, for the 
 company was most unexceptionable and accom- 
 plished, and the managers self-denying and unre- 
 mittingly assiduous to their guests. The ball was 
 ■ decided success. 
 
 WEiT ROXBURY TOHNG CaTHOLIC FrIENDS ASSO- 
 CIATION. — This society was organized Dec. 27, 1858, 
 and has for its object the building of anew Catholic 
 church in that place. It promises to be otherwise use- 
 ful, and, from the zeal manifested hy its members, wc 
 expect they will soon effect their obj>;ct. We wish them 
 a beoriy success. The following is a list of officers : — 
 President— Chas. A. Bclford ; Vice-President, Corne- 
 lius Kelly ; Secretary, John Woods (the above officers 
 will also' act as Treasurers) ; Board of Directors — 
 John Fallen, James Nugent, Daniel Regan, Stephen 
 O'Farrell Patrick Commcrford, Patrick McMorrough ; 
 Collectors— James KcUv, Michael O'Farrell. Peter 
 Dolan, John Fallen, Patrick McMorrouuh, William 
 p. Carter, James Nugent, Michael Harney, Thomas 
 Dolon. Edward McCarthy, Bernard Battler, Daniel 
 O'Kcuan, Patrick Commerford, Stephen O'Farrell, 
 Ch»». A Bclford, Cornelius Kelly, John McGonagle, 
 Thomas Kelly, John Woods. 
 
 ADVERTISEMENTS. 
 
 Taking the Veil — We Icam from the San Fran- 
 cisco Monitor that, on November 10, three Sisters 
 of Mercy received the black veil at the convent on 
 Stockton street. Among the number was Miss 
 Mary Mogan, late of Boston, and daughter of Mr. 
 Richard Mogan of CrenghwcU, county Galway, 
 Ireland. The ceremonies were exceedingly impres- 
 sive, Mr. King, who preached the sermon, pointing 
 out the wide .sphere of action which the duties of 
 the institute embraces. 
 
 Nbw Catholic Book Store.— AVe perceieve by 
 the Dover, N. H., papers that our friend, John 
 Flood, has gone into the book business. We highly 
 recommend Mr. Flood, and hope the Irish people 
 will patronize one who has ever been true to their 
 interests. 
 
 PASSAGE REDUCED BETNVEEN 
 
 LIVERPOOL AND BOSTON 
 
 MERCHANTS' LINE 
 
 — OF — 
 
 BOSTON AND LIVERPOOL PACKETS; 
 
 BAILIKO FROH LIVERPOOL DIRECT TO BOSTON EVERT 
 riFTKEN DAYS. 
 
 THE SPLENDID FACKEl'S comprising this line ar« as 
 follows: — 
 
 Ships. Tons. Captains. 
 
 COHUODORS ... - 1800 Bliss 
 
 Carlvlk 2000 Maxwell 
 
 SUAWMUT . . - . 1000 lliKgJQS 
 
 Mongolia - - - - 1600 Melolicr 
 
 'i'Hos- J evfsrbon - IfiOO Hill 
 
 Walter SCOTT - - 1800 Smith 
 
 ]>RiNCK88 UoVAL - - 2000 Hartley 
 
 KicuARD Morse - - 1600 Dinsmoro 
 
 ToALATTA .... 1760 Sliiison 
 
 C'A.MDUIA ... - 1860 I'crry 
 
 rooAuoNTis - - - 1700 Dcland 
 
 RUFUS C'boate - - 1600 KicU 
 
 These ships are al 1 of the first class, mostly new, and built 
 expresiily lor the Liverpool trade; spacious between decks, 
 well veutilated, with all the moderu improvements lor the 
 comiort, health and safety of passengers. Tliey are com- 
 manded by American Captains of kuown experience and 
 kindness, wlio will carefully look to all the wauts of the 
 passengers during itie voyage. 
 
 Each ship will be lUruislied with proper Medical atten- 
 dance. 
 
 I'erfons sendirg for their friends in the Old Country can 
 depend on haviug them ordered up promptly lor the 
 first SHIPS, and at such times as will prevent their being 
 detuiued m Liverpool, as is often practiced by the other 
 lines. 
 
 RATES OF PASSAGE 
 from Liverpool to Boston (including provisions):— 
 For persons 12 years of age, ana over, - - . S18 50 
 
 For children under 12 years, 14 00 
 
 For iutants under 1 year, at time of embarkation, 3 00 
 
 REMITTANCES. 
 Bills of Exchange on England, Ireland, Scotland, Wales 
 Bud Cierroauy, for sale iu sums to suit. 
 
 Passengers forwarded weekly to all parts of Europe by 
 Steam and Sailing vessels. 
 
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 IE?- For PASSAGE CERTIFICATES from and to Liver- 
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 above, apply personally or by letter to 
 
 LAWRENCE & RYAN, Agents, 
 
 n271y No. 41 Broad street, Boston. 
 
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 WILLIAM HICKEY, Catholic Bookseller, and Agent 
 for the Extensive Publishing House of D. & J. 
 Sadlier & Co., of New York. 
 The latest and most varied stock of Religious Prints, 
 MISSALS, PRAYER BOOKS, CROSSES, 
 and all the Current Literature, constantly on hand. 
 
 No. 128 Federal (corner of Wilioams) btbeet, 
 BOSTON, MASS. 
 
 IMPORTANT TO HOUSEKEEPERS! 
 
 J _ FORD ^^* Federal Street, 
 
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 Consisting of TEAS, SUGARS, COFFEES, SPICES, &0. 
 
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 CHOICEST WINES, LIQUORS AND CIGARS 
 
 Wholesale and Retail. 
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 purchaser's advantage, and it is his undeviating aim to pro- 
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 same price. Ue is, therefore, confident tliat those favoring 
 him with their patronage will receive every satisfaction, and 
 find his goods are sold extremely low for cash. lydll 
 
 TEN READY WAYS TO MAKE MONEY, being ten 
 origiual receipts for the manufacture of useful arli- 
 cles, whicli command a quick «ale, and insure a full pocket- 
 Formerly sold for So; but now sent to any person lor one 
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 al3 Ut 
 
 AWILLI AMS It. CO., Wholesale Agents, for the Irish 
 . Miscellany. The Tiade supplied with Books, Pe- 
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 lE^Particular attention paid to Conrayanoing, and tba 
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 ADVERTISEMENTS. 
 
 SrEAM TO ALL PART^ OF GREAT BRITAIN 
 
 —VIA THE— 
 
 ATLAN'nc ROYAL MAIL STEAMSHIP CD'S 
 
 NEW YORK AND GALWAY LINE. 
 
 THIS ifl the shortest route between Kurope and Amer- 
 ica. The line Ik corapottcd of powerfuland fast sail- 
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 thiHK requisite to render the voyage oafo and agreeable. 
 The departures from New York for lialway will be as fol- 
 lows, until further notice, viz — 
 
 rACIFIC Saturday, January 8. 
 
 I'KINCEALBEKr- - - Thursday, January 27. 
 
 Persons visiting Ireland reach their deHtination in three- 
 fourths the time taken bv any other route, and all have an 
 opportunity ol visiting placeij and scenery of unrivalled in- 
 terest iu Ireland. 
 
 Price of passage, including free tickets by the usual rail- 
 road routes from (Galway to any ot the principal cities ot 
 Great Britain, at the following reduced rates:— First clau 
 91K). second class 9W, third clasM $30. 
 
 Tuose wishing to bring their friends to this country can 
 purchase tickets for their popsage in third class from Gal- 
 way at S30. or from other cities iu Great Britain, accessible 
 by railroad, $35. A liberal cabin table will be provided, 
 and cooked provisions for third class passengers to ana 
 from Galway. 
 
 For freight and passage and further particulars apply to 
 the American Express Company, 61 Hudson street, New 
 York, or to 
 
 NAZUO BROTHERS k SWEENEY, 
 
 ol6 tf 5 Chatham Row, Boston. 
 
 W. J. HENNESSY, 
 ARTIST, 
 
 No. 87 FRANKLIN STREET, 
 NEW YORK CITY. 
 
 LAWRENCE BRIGADE BAND. J. Desmond, Lead- 
 er. Are prepared to furnish Music for Military and 
 Civic Parades, Pic-Nic8, Festivals, &c. Also, a (Quadrille 
 Band furnished, if desired. Address J. Desmond, care of 
 Rev. J. O^I>onnell. Lawrence. Ua.ss. 
 
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 RATES OF ADVERTISING. 
 
 FOR EACH BQITAREOr TWBLVB LHVBB. 
 
 First insertion, . . . 81.00 I Three months, . . tS.Of 
 
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 IRISH MISCELLANY 
 
 Is published weekly, and devoted to the interests and rin- 
 dicntion of the Irish people throughout the world. 
 
 The isrtsrtllany republishes each week one whole number 
 of the old '• Dublin Pennt Journal,- with original and 
 selected essays, reviews, poetry, fcc, by Irishmen, of first- 
 rate ability. It also contains beautiful Pictorial DluBtra- 
 tions of Irish scenery and other objects of interest, among 
 which may be enumerated engravings ot the ancient oaa- 
 tles and round towers, the ruins of the old churches, the 
 plundered monasteries, convents and abbeys of Ireland. 
 
 It will also contain correct Pictorial repreiientatione ot 
 works of art executed by Irishmen ot the present day, at 
 well as in former times, in this country and throughout 
 Europe. 
 
 Termb.- S2,00 per year, invariably in advance. 
 THOMAS O'NEILL, Proprietor, 
 
 No. U raANKBUf Stssh, fioiTvfl^ y . 
 
VOLUME 2— NUMBER 49.]- 
 
 BOSTON, SATURDAY, JANUARY 15,' 1859. 
 
 [PRICE FOUR CENTS. 
 
 REFLECTIONS IN A CRAVE-YARD. 
 
 The foUoirt'ing article, which is accompaiiied by 
 the illustration given below, is from the pen of an 
 able and pathetic writer: — 
 
 'It was the close of a beautiful autumnal day, one 
 of those days when — 
 
 ' The weary sun hatli mjide a golden fet, 
 And by tile bright tract of lier iiery car. 
 (jives token of a goodly day to-morrow.' 
 
 The evening breezes arising had cooled and re- 
 freshed languishing nature, which now appeared 
 like a splendid picture fre.-.h from the hands of the 
 artist. 
 
 Engaged in the contempla'ion of the beautiful 
 and romantic scenery by which I was surrounded, 
 I unconsciously "wandered towards the grave-yard, 
 and almost before I was aware had entered the en- 
 closure. It was with a kind of melancholy pleasure 
 I roved from the spiry monument to the lonely 
 tomb, reading the different inscriptions, traced by 
 the warm hand of affection, or by the cold power of 
 wealth and pride ; thus employed, my mind insen- 
 sibly fell into the train of thought, which the place 
 would naturally inspire. 
 
 Methought I saw the vast multitude, whose 
 
 bodies were covered by the small hillocks which 
 were spread in prospective before me, arise from 
 their narrow ' prison house,' and each assuming the 
 occupation to which he had been accustomed prior 
 to his transit from this world. 
 
 There I beheld the merchant exulting in the con- 
 sciousness of his own importance; there the haughty 
 belle, triumphing in the pride of her beauty, and 
 here, the poet, the scornful smile curling his lips 
 when coming in contact with those who were not 
 possessed with the same enthusiasm and romantic 
 attachment fur the muses. 
 
 Again I saw the poor man struggling with every 
 effort nf industry to preserve those who were most 
 dear to him from the evils of poverty. But sud- 
 denly methought the picture was reversed, the 
 merchant was lying in the agonies of death, sur- 
 rounded by all ihe luxuries, and attended by all 
 the medical assistance which wealth could procure; 
 still all is vain, he must die. 
 
 The belle, whose beauty had so long been her 
 pride, where is she ? The mournful pealings of 
 yon bell answers : it tells that she, whose charms 
 once fascinated so many, will in a 6hort time be ' 
 
 seen no more, that she who shone so long the raOBt 
 brilliant star in the hemisphere of fashion will soon 
 be consigned to the cold and narrow precincts of 
 the tomb. 
 
 He whose pen had so long charmed mankind, is 
 now aliite insensible to censure or commendation, 
 he whose refined taste, recoiled at the idea of asso- 
 ciating with the iliterate, worms are now his only 
 companions. 
 
 The poor man is now released from his trouble ; 
 no longer will his smile, when returning from the 
 labors of the day, gladden the hearts of his desolate 
 wife and children ; younder is his grave, a jiiece of 
 board marks the head, on which is inscribed his 
 name and age, the last fond remembrance of the 
 grieving relatives he has left behind. 
 
 Here we may see, I mentally exclaimed, the 
 instability of all !;uman hopes and possessions; man 
 enters upon the stage of life; at one moment we be- 
 hold him all buoyant with youthful hopes, the ad- 
 miring, and admired; the next, where ie he? He is 
 where all must lie, the beautiful, the youthful, the 
 gay, the rich, the poor, the humble, and the 
 haughty — in the grarc.' 
 
 
 AN IHISH CiRAVE-YAIMJ 
 
354 
 
 HUSH MISCELLANY. 
 
 THE PRIVATE MEMOIRS OF CAPTAIN ROCK. 
 
 VrBITTEN BY HI.MSBLF. 
 
 [Continued.] 
 
 C H A r 1' E R X 1 1 . 
 
 TUK rATE or SIS a.n . 
 
 Next day wo renewed our search after my unfor- 
 tunate mistress, but without euceess. Many of my 
 friends looked upon her as irrecoverable, and, ac- 
 cordingly, deiiistcd from the pursuit. But I was 
 not to be diverted from my purpose. Honor, duty, 
 and love forbade it, and I had little doubt but that 
 perseverance in this, as in other in3tan1.es, would 
 have been crowned with success. For live days.how- 
 evcr, all my inquiries proved fruitless; but, on the 
 sixth, on nocidct led to a discovery. 
 
 As the rukc had not been heard of since the night 
 of the abduction, we concluded that he was the 
 cause of Susan's detention, and knowing that he 
 had numerous friends in the O'Kelleys" country, we 
 proceeded towards that wild district. My friends, 
 on the occasion, amounted to fifty young fellows 
 like myself; and, as the Kellys were not prepared to 
 encounter such a. formidable host, well armed, we 
 met very little opposition in our search. No tidings, 
 however, could we learn of the unfortunate object 
 of our labor, and, evening coming, we bent our 
 steps homeward. Filled with the most melancholy 
 apprehensions for the fate of the unhappy girl, I 
 lingered behind my party, and, not knowing well 
 what direction they took, I struck into a beaten 
 path that led across a heathy hill. On my left, a 
 parcel of singular looking rocks attracted my atten- 
 tion, and 1 thought a human figure was discernable, 
 apparently crouched on one of them. Thither I 
 instantly hastened; and, as I approached them, me- 
 thought I heard a cry of distress. I listened; but 
 all in a moment was silent. I mounted one of the 
 rocks.and saw beneath me a most romantic mountain 
 chasm — a place where bandit villains might take up 
 their abode; and, what struck me as probable, a 
 place where Susan might be concealed. Hope 
 flashed upon me as 1 descended an almost perpen- 
 dicular path; and as I reached the bottom, a ruf- 
 fianly-looking head was protruded from the mouth 
 of a cavern, and in an instant was withdrawn. The 
 fellow, however, suspecting that he was seen, once 
 more made his appearance; and as he stood upright, 
 preesentcd the tugged form of an athletic giant, 
 being full seven feet high, while every limb indica- 
 ted strength and activity. His face was of the Irish 
 mould — long and deeply marked, while a fornight's 
 beard, and a twelve month's dirt, gave it an appear- 
 ance of savage ferocity. At the moment,! was struck 
 with something like fear; but, ashamed and unwil- 
 ling to retreat, I drew a pistol from my pocket, and 
 approached this singular apparition. ' Who have 
 you in that cavern r' I demanded, and scarcely 
 had the words passed my lips, when a female en- 
 deavored to force her way out, but was savagely 
 repulsed by the rullian, who now appeared to act 
 as her goalor. ' Let her pass !' I cried, w ith some 
 impatience; but, instead of cither obeying or re- 
 plying, he lifted a club he held in his hand, and 
 made a blow, which I fortunately turned oil' with 
 my pistol. Again he renewed the stroke, till at 
 length, in self-defence, 1 fired. His club flew out 
 of his hand; his shattered arm fell, as if dead, by 
 his side, and sunk upon the ground. Htforc I could 
 inquire the nature of his wound, the affrighted 
 female rushed out of the cave, and fell at my feet. 
 Her hands were tied behind her back; and a cruel 
 gag, made of a furze stick, was stuck in her mouth. 
 These, however, did not prevent me from recogniz- 
 ing my beloved Susan in the wretched figure before 
 me. Raising her from the giound, I quickly un- 
 bounded her hands, relieved her mouth from the 
 barbarous instrumept that prevented her from 
 speaking, and once more imprinted a kiss upon her 
 iips. 'Oh! Decimus! Decimus !' she exclaimed. 
 
 'take me to my father 1 Oh, for Heaven's sake, 
 carry me home, or Fm lost for ever !' 
 
 ' Fear not, Susan,' I replied, -weijartno more; 
 but tell me, who is this rulKan who lies there r' 
 
 ' Ulamc not him,' she returned; ' 'tis not his 
 fault.' 
 
 ' No, in troth !' said he, starting up on his feet, 
 'I was only doing mg duty, for sure we ou'^ht all to 
 assist an O'KcUy, without being run through by a 
 shooting iron, and had you behaved civil to me, 
 Fd have given you up the thackeen astore without 
 any of this work. But see, my brave garsoon, the 
 blood of an O'Kelly never went unrevcnged, and 
 may the grass never grow on my grave if I die 
 without having satisfaction !' 
 
 Saying this, he raised the club in his left hand, 
 and looking unettcra'ole things, he made towards 
 me. Weakened, however, by loss of blood, I soon 
 brought him once more to the ground, and while 
 he lay there, I seized Susan around the waist, and 
 hastened from the little valley. As few have ever 
 been similarly situated, few are capable of estima- 
 ting my feelings at this moment. To hold the girl 
 I loved so well in my arms— to feel her little heart 
 throb against my side, and considering myself her 
 deliverer, were circumstances calculated to fill me 
 with joy and happiness, were not the apprehension 
 of being overtaken, and again separated, sufficient 
 to counteract the rising emotions of my soul. Alas! 
 I had but too much cause to fear, for we had not 
 descended from the hill when the blast of the horn, 
 more terrible than the death-bell, fell upon our 
 ears. It proclaimed that pursuit was commenced, 
 and my flight was considerably impeded by Susan 
 fainting away on my breast. Single, though armed, 
 what could I do against a host of foes, who I dread- 
 ed were now approaching r and I had only just 
 time to reload my pistol, and lay Susan on the 
 ground, when nine or ten men, with loud cries of 
 vengeance, appeared within a few perches of me. 
 Foremost I discoved the ruffian I had wounded, 
 with his arm tied up in a handkerchief, and beside 
 him Toney Kelly. I was now conviuced that my 
 suspicions respecting the rake were well founded, 
 and overcome with jealous rage, I cocked my pistol, 
 and was on the point of pulling the trigger, when 
 a stone from one of the O' Kellys struck me on the 
 temple, and laid me senseless on the ground. It 
 was fortunate it did so, for had I killed one of them, 
 my life must have been saceificed to their fury. As 
 it was, I believe they considered me dead, for no 
 further violence was offered, which humanity on 
 their part arose perhaps from their eagerness to 
 secure their prize. 
 
 When I had partially recovered from the effects 
 of the blow, I found myself alone, and being weak 
 from loss of blood, I was not well able to walk. 
 AVith that freedom quite natural in Ireland, I 
 seized the first horse I met, converted his fetter, or 
 side-irons, into a temporary bridle, and rode home, 
 a distance of about five miles. Irish horses are 
 animals of singular sagacity, for,like carrier pigeons, 
 they will always find their way home. On this 
 occasion, my Kosinante was no sooner relieved of 
 his burden, than he turned round, and trotted quite 
 contentedly to his native pasture. 
 
 It was no sooner ascertained t^at the O'Kellys 
 had offered not only insult to a Rock, but detained 
 a SI'Mahon, than the whole country was up in arms. 
 Sunday was the day appointed for the commence- 
 ment of hostilities, aud the chapel, as usual, 
 was chosen as the scene of action. Against this 
 last determination, however, I positively objected, 
 for I never could think that those men respected 
 religion, who went to the house of God with the 
 intention of figliting. It was a custom once too pre- 
 valent, and though the Catholic clergy have banished 
 it from places where their authority is acknowledged, I 
 regret to state that family factions, the remnant of 
 clanship, still exist. Irishmen, however, are beginning 
 
 to grow ashamed of such barbarons practices. No 
 people in the world are more easily persuaded from 
 error, or less inclined to do anything that would reflect 
 disgrace on their country and religion. 
 
 I easily prevailed on my friends to meet the O'Kellys 
 on more Icgilinwto ground — on their own plains — and, 
 accordingly, we paid them a visit; bui, to our astonish- 
 ment, no opposition was made, and for six days snc 
 cessively we searched in vain for Susan, who, as I 
 afterwards learned, was removed from place to place, 
 from mountain to mountain, with such caro as eluded 
 our sagacity. Thinking, at length, that strutagera 
 might be more successful than force, 1 stopped an old 
 hcggerman, dressed myself in his clothes, and, with a 
 wallet on my hack, a long pole in my light hand, and 
 a wooden can in my left, I sallic'd forth a disguised 
 mendicant. On the first day nothing remarkable oc- 
 curred; but, on the second, chance brought mo to the 
 cabin where Susan was confined. She was extremely ill, 
 and the people knew not what to do for her. They 
 asked my advice, and, as I boasted of my medical 
 knowledge, I was instantly shown into her presence, 
 for they apprehended no danger from an old begger- 
 mun. Susan knew me not, and, as I saw that fatigue 
 and colli brouglit on a fever, I affected to feel her 
 pulse, and then, promising to collect a few herbs that 
 would instantly restore her to heaUh, I left my wallet 
 behind me, and repaired to the side of a mountain. 
 Once out of view, I seized a horse, and was quickly at 
 Rockglen. A few followers were soon collected, and, 
 as fast as horses could carry us,we proceeded to O'Kelly 
 country. In the cabin wo found the rake and five 
 others; a seutlle ensued, in which the guilty Toney lost 
 his life. Susan was restored to her lather; but, alas ! 
 his happiness was short lived; her fever grew worse 
 and worse, and in five days time, she was a corpse I 
 
 Mv own feelings, on this occasion, I shall not at- 
 tempt to describe; but such was the efi"ect which 
 Susan's fate produced on my mind, that I have been, 
 from that day to this, an enemy of female abduction. 
 The actors in such cases are generally fellows like 
 Kelly; but I never could discover the reason why the 
 peasantry are not averse to such vile practices. Fer- 
 haps, like other things, they indulge in it because 
 declared illegal, for they have been long in the habit of 
 considering what is right to bo the reverse of what the 
 law commands. 
 
 CHAPXEE XIII. 
 AN AEEESST AN lEISH JUSTICE EIPTY TEAE3 SINCE. 
 
 At the period of Susan's abduction, the country was 
 particularly tranquil. The great had their minds sus- 
 pended between fear and hope, and even tlie Roekitcs 
 were so dazzled with the anticipated splendor of na- 
 tional freedom, that proctors, for once, were permitted 
 to repose in security, and landlords to distrain for rent 
 without any interruption. My father, 'wan and faint, 
 but fearless still,' looked on and smiled, gave a 'Fshaw !' 
 when Grattan was hailed as the deliverer of the nation, 
 and now and then ridiculed the proceedings of the 
 volunteers. Young, ardent, and patriotic (for I have 
 ever been a patriot), I did not entirely approve of my 
 father's ojiinions, and as I sometimes ventured to ex- 
 press my dissent, we had frequent conversations, or 
 rather disputes, carried on in that tone of respectful 
 cadence which is always most agreeable where one of 
 the parties is an acknowledged superior, and the other 
 a person from whom the utmost deference is at once 
 expected and enacted. 
 
 Olio day, while listening to the aged chieftain's dis- 
 sertation on the aspect of public affairs, the door, 
 whiih always stood open, was darkened by a length- 
 ened shadow, and presently an oUicer and his party 
 entered. My father, as usual, was seated in his armed 
 chair, while I occupied a form near the dresser. We 
 were both perfectly unarmed, and, thinking that the 
 captain was the object of their visit, I seized an old 
 'longobar,' and rushed between him and the soldiers. 
 Placing myself in an attitude of defence, I demanded 
 their business. 
 
 'We seek,' replied the officer, ' one Decimus Rock, 
 
IRISH MISCELLAI^Y. 
 
 355 
 
 and from the inetrurtiona I have received, I believe you 
 lire the person wo want.' 
 
 ' My name,' said I, 'is certainly Deoimus Eock; but 
 I bff; to Icnow for wbat oti'encc, and by whose author- 
 ity, I am rciiuired to surrender myself to armed sol- 
 diers." 
 
 ' This is my authority,' lie returned, exhibiting a 
 warrant; 'but if you wish to know the oft'cnee with 
 which you arc charged, you must inquire of Mr. 
 Heatley, the magistrate, for really I kuow nothing of 
 it.' 
 
 Seeing myself opposed liy twenty armed soldiers, 
 and thinking that I had nothing to apprehend, I 
 threw down the weapon, and surrendered. My father, 
 whose long familiarity with danger led him inacces- 
 sible to fear, now arose from his chair, surveyed the 
 officer with an incredulous grin, and then, coming close 
 to him, said, ' Not know his offence, sir ! Not know 
 that it was for doing what duty, honor, love, and 
 humanity prompted— for doing that which, if he had 
 not done, shame and infamy would rest upon his name! 
 It is his offence, sir, that he is brave|and honorable — 
 that he is an Irishman !' 
 
 ' Strange, indeed!' replied the officer, 'if it should 
 be so; but, were it as you say, I have a duty to per- 
 form, and, however unpleasant to your feelings and to 
 my own, I must carry this young man to Heatley-hall, 
 where I hope he has little to apprehend from investiga- 
 tion.' 
 
 At these words the old chieftain's countenance re- 
 laxed, and, seizing the officer's hand, he shook it with 
 warm-hearted kindness, insisted on his being seated, 
 and then, fetching a ' cruiskeen' of the native, he made 
 the whole party drink. My fathe*, as I have said be- 
 fore,was 'very rich,' and an Irishman, and his caressing 
 those now, who a few minutes before he would have 
 sacrifii-ed to his fury, was nothing more than the habit 
 of always acting in accordanceiwith the impulse of feel- 
 ing. At first they appeared enemies; but he no sooner 
 discovered that they were, in all probability, friends, 
 than he treated them as such, and fastened on the 
 slightest intimation as the strongest proof. Such con- 
 duct appears inconsistent only to those who are unac- 
 quainted with the workings of an Irishman's heart. 
 
 The officer, who had, notwithstanding his red coat, 
 much of the milk of human kindness in him, inquired 
 the history of what my father hinted at, and was no 
 sooner informed of the whole particulars concerning 
 Susan's abduction, than he assured me I ran no danger 
 whatever. But he judged according to principles of 
 equity, and not agreeable to the statute in such cases 
 made and provided. At first, however, I was of his 
 opinion, particularly so as more than a fortnight had 
 elapsed since the affair occurred. But the report of 
 illegal acts in Ireland, like the echo at Killaruey, is 
 heard only at intervals, and, generally, is loudest when 
 reverberated from a distance. In the present instance 
 this was the case, for the whole had been nearly forgot- 
 ten in the county, when the intelligence reached Dub- 
 lin, where the Rev. Peter Cousins resided. This gen- 
 tleman, whose character lies ready drawn in my port- 
 folio, having no fioeks to tend, because one degree less 
 civilized, and turned ' hantsman.' His game was 
 sometimes of the same species as that pursued by 
 Nimrod, and instead of attracting blessings from the 
 people, he was generally pursued with execrations. He 
 had a living near Rockglen, where my father kept him 
 constantly employed, until the embodying of the volun- 
 teers, when he hastened to Dublin; but, not being 
 thought qualified to act adjutant under Charlemont, ho 
 embraced the present opportunity of returning to his 
 old quarters, and renewed his usual sport by causing 
 me to be arrested. Indeed, my father always said he 
 had a higher olijeet in view, and hoped that, by throw- 
 ing the country into a state of insurrection, he might 
 thwart the designs of those who were then advocating 
 the rights of Ireland. But I am anticipating. 
 
 At rather an early hour in the evening the soldiers 
 closed around me with fixed bayonets, and we marched 
 off for Ueatley-hall, the residence of the magistrate. 
 
 Mr. Heatley was one of the old school, not ' a la 
 
 Chesterfiield,' but a true portrait of an Irish justice 
 fifty years ago. His person was originally of the mid- 
 dle size, but, like an inflated balloon, bis skin had con- 
 siderably expanded, in conse(|uenee of the good things 
 ho was daily, nay hourly, in the habit of pouring into 
 it. Like the recruit at drill, he could not possibly see 
 whether he stood 'toes out or toes in,' for his view was 
 intercepted by a large protuberance before him. 
 Shakspeare's portraiat of Falstaif might serve for Mr. 
 Heatley, were it not for his clothes; and, indeed, these 
 hung so loosely about him, that he might, without any 
 troiilile, slip into those of the witty knight. His three- 
 cocked bat and wig were of one age and color, his coat, 
 always green, was cut in the hunting fashion, and his 
 silk waiscoat had as many flowers on it as my grand- 
 mother's gown, which she used to tuck up behind her 
 going to mass. Unlike that modern part of our dress, 
 it covered the greater portion of the man; while two 
 laps, dangling from it, hung down the thighs to such a 
 length as almost to dispense with the use of breeches. 
 Mr. Heatley's ideas of decency, however, differed from 
 those of a Highlander, and I can assure my readers 
 that he was as seldom to be seen without his ' inex- 
 pressibles ■ as without his top-boots and silver spurs. 
 His face was such as might be expected from the por- 
 trait I have given — it indicated the total absence of all 
 care, bespoke a vacant mind and a harmless disposition. 
 The utmost humanity looked out at every pore, while 
 the full blaze that always lit it up declared the humor 
 of the man. 
 
 Compare this picture with the face of a modern 
 magistrate, and wonder at the diflference ! Instead of 
 such a reviving physiognomy, we meet with nothing 
 but long puritanical phizzes, in which the prisoner may 
 fancy that he sees Minos, the rigid judge of the defunct 
 ancients. Our magistracy may boast of their activity, 
 of their knowledge of M'Nally's 'justice of peace," 
 and of their punctual attendance at the quarter 
 sessions. God help them ! Mr. Heatley dispised 
 all these things, he never opened a law-book in his 
 life, nor ever read an act of parliament; yet he con- 
 trived to satisfy government, and kept the country 
 in a state certainly as tranquil as it has been since. 
 He knew the limited capacity of ancient gaols, and 
 therefore seldom sent any one to them, and thought, 
 if people chose to quarrel, the best way was to let 
 them fight it out. He had a natural dislike to 
 tithe-proctors, and therefore never protected them; 
 and whenever he granted a warrant,he generally sent 
 information to the party to avoid an arrest. His 
 decisions were regulated by no precedent — the whim 
 of the moment was his only guide, and many of 
 them are related at the present day, to show that he 
 was not quite as wise as Solomon. Perhaps some 
 may think that dissatisfaction was the consequence 
 of Mr. Heatley's justice, but the very reverse was 
 the fact. He was universally beloved, and though 
 always in debt, a bailiff dare not come within a 
 mile of his house; and whenever he went to hunt, 
 which he did frequently, all the farmers" sons in the 
 country attended him; nor was he above entertain- 
 ing them at his table when the sports were over. 
 Protestant and Catholic were the same in his eyes, 
 and, indeed, many suspected that he was half a 
 Papist himself, for he had a peculiar antipathy to 
 parsons. 
 
 Such was Mr. Heatley, and such were most of the 
 magistrates fifty years since. These men are now 
 extinct, and justices of another stamp have supplied 
 their places. Has the country profited by the 
 change ? Let the numerous committals and the 
 few convictions answer. For my part, I consider 
 an over-active magistracy a curse to any country, 
 and would prefer living even in the neighborhood 
 of an attorney, rather than in that of a justice of 
 the peace. 
 
 CHAl'TEIt XIV. 
 
 IBISU JVSTICR FIFTY YEAIIS SINCK. 
 
 An easy walk of two hours brought us within 
 sight of Heatley-Hall, the residence of tlie magis- 
 
 trate. The house was one of those habitatians 
 which look grand and venerable without any 
 display of architectural ornament, and which, 
 in a country like Ireland, are appropriate abodes of 
 ancient families. The child of fortune and the 
 lord of a day may build themselves splendid man- 
 sions in the Doric, Tuscan, or Corinthian order; but 
 the hereditary nobles of the land — those whose 
 names are 'part and parcel ' of her history — should 
 despise these adscititious means of attracting notice, 
 and live where their illustrious ancestors lived 
 before them. An old fortress modernized, a vener- 
 able castle whitewashed, and its port-holes enlarged 
 to windows, are places whicli I never could pass by 
 without having a melancholy interest excited within 
 me. Por hours I have stood before such memorials 
 of the past and present, without being able to as- 
 certain whether pain or pleasure predominatad, for 
 in spite of the truth of history, I love to dwell upon 
 the by-gone, to recall the romantic incidents of other 
 days, and fancy myself an actor among the chiefs 
 of feudal times. Fallen ruins, or antiquated dwel- 
 lings, never fail to awaken feelings of this nature. 
 
 Heatley-hall was one of those places which I 
 loved to look upon; and as we came to the opening 
 which admits a front view of the house, the whole 
 party, as if by instinct, stopped. The centre of the 
 building was a square castle, fianked with two 
 round towers, whose majestic elevation threw the 
 modern part of the edifice into a shade, giving the 
 whole that sombre appearance which accorded well 
 with the eilence of the hour. To the right were 
 the ruins of a monastry, peeping through a grove 
 of tall trees, and on the left stood the 'ivy-mantled ' 
 gable-end of an ancient church, round the base of 
 which reposed the ashes of those who, probably, 
 'were famous in their day.' Every thing around 
 indicated the antiquity of the place, and the vene- 
 ration it insensibly inspired, blinded the spectator 
 to the many proofs of decay which were visible in 
 the appearance of the hall, as well as in every ap- 
 proach to it. Gates were broken, walls and ditches 
 had fallen, and many of the out-offices stood un- 
 conscious of a roof before the face of heaven. 
 Were it not for the 'lazy vermin' who crawled 
 about the court-yards in their faded and toren 
 livery, one might have supposed that Heatley-hall 
 was the property of some profligate absentee, who 
 concealed himself and his poverty in a lonely garret 
 in the neighborhood of St. Jame's, London. 
 
 By the time we had reached the swing-gate, at 
 the top of the avenue, my escort had considerably 
 increased, apparently not much to the satisfaction 
 of the commanding officer, who viewed the hun- 
 dreds who crowded around his little party with 
 evident apprehension, lest a rescue should be at- 
 tempted. Such a thing, however, was not at the 
 moment eontemiJlated. Curiosity was their only 
 motive for inquiring into the cause of my arrest, 
 and so eager were they to learn the nature o£ the 
 charge against me, that several turned back from a 
 funeral we had met, and a ball-court was deserted, 
 notwithstanding that a game was then playing, on 
 which depended the honor of two rival parishes. 
 Several women and children brought up the rear; 
 and, as we entered the lawn before the house, 
 the rush of the crowd, eager to get convenient 
 positions for hearing the examination, alarmed the 
 people within. The parlor window instantly flew 
 open, and the head of Parson Cousins was pro- 
 truded. A mixture of fear and anger was painted 
 on his countenance, us he inquired of the oflicer, 'Is 
 your prisoner safe :' 
 'Perfectly so." 
 
 • What do the people want r' 
 'I don't know." 
 
 ' To rescue the prisoner, I suppo.se. Bring him 
 in, and guard him securel)'." 
 
 In a moment we were in the parlor. Mr. Heatley 
 was sitting quite comfortably at ihe table, with a- 
 
356 
 
 IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 Iiottlo of wine bcfure him, and ns he looked tt the guunt 
 llgiirc of the ecclesiastic, it wiu) quite appurcnt that he 
 considered him anything but H friend. ' O'KcclVc,' 
 Duid ho, addrcssinc the butler, ' take these loldiura to 
 the hull, and let them have plenty to cat and drink. 
 Ciiplain, will you honor me with your company ? Mr. 
 Couainii, you see, has got a new — J mean his old — con- 
 gregation, and is busy instructing them in their duty.' 
 
 The parson, hitherto inattentive to what was going 
 on in the parlor, now drew in his head, and with looks 
 of apprehension, assured ilr. lleatlcy that the mob 
 were meditating a rescue, as he saw several of them 
 consuliiug together. ' Have you,' he conliuucd, ' the 
 riot act coDTCniet V 
 
 ' Riot act !' repeated the magistrate ; ' riot act !' ha, 
 ha, ha! Where the devil do you think I'd get one 7 
 The government never send down any, and it is now 
 ujiwards of twenty years since I was in Dublin, about 
 that cursed business of Father Shea, who was hung like 
 a dog, though as innocent as a lamb.' 
 
 ' That's not t)ie business at present, Mr. Hcatley,' 
 laid Cousins; 'and as I happen to have the riot act in 
 my pocket ' 
 
 ' Where it keeps peace, I hope,' interrupted the 
 magistrate. 
 
 'Tou're facetious, Mr. Ileatley; but I find it very 
 useful to carry it about me in such treasonable times as 
 these. I beg you will read it to the mob. 
 
 ' Not I; rend it yourself; it is more familiar to yon, I 
 suppose, than the Bible.' 
 
 ' Your supposition is not true,' retu-ned Cousins, 
 ' and you ought to know it can be road by no one but 
 a magistrate.' 
 
 ' Are you not one !' asked Ileailey. 
 
 'Not at preient, sir.' 
 
 ' Oh, ay; ha, ha, ha ! It was taken from you in 
 consequence of your refuting to administer an oath to 
 a girl who wanted to swear a child to yourself; ha,- ha, 
 ha!' 
 
 • Mr. Heatley, this is too much; and were it not that 
 I am conscious your sober moments will cause you to 
 repent of this unprovoked insult, I would not allow it 
 to pass with impunity. You know, sir, that the report 
 was false, and you ought to know that my commission 
 will bo restored in a day or two, it being evident that 
 llis Majesty's government want my services in this 
 part of the kingdom. It was with reluctance I troubled 
 you ; but, as murder has been committed, I thought it 
 necessary to bring the offender to speedy justice.' 
 
 'A fine sarmon,' 'pon my word! but who is this 
 charged with murder V 
 
 'One Decimus Rock.' 
 
 ' Decimus Rock 1' repeated tha magistrate. 'What! 
 the very best shot in all Tipperary, and the most fear- 
 less horseman, charged with murder! Impossible! 
 there must be some mistake. If it were his father I 
 woald not be so much surprised.' 
 
 ' Th« crime is a serious onCi certainly,' said Cou- 
 sins; ' and I fear the charge is too well substantiated 
 to admit of a doubt.' 
 
 ' Where are your proofs 1 ' asked Mr. Heatley. 
 
 ' The witnesses will bo here to-morrow, until which 
 time the prisoner must be kept in safe custody.' 
 
 ' I don't know tb,ii,' retnmed the magistrate. 
 
 ' I'll lay proper information before you.' 
 
 ' Let us hear it.' 
 
 ' It appears,' said the parson, ' that a young girl 
 eloped with a man named Kelly, who very naturally 
 carried bcr to the residence of his friends ; but where 
 she had not been long, when the prisoner, riotouslyjand 
 rebelliously, collected several hundred men, and in- 
 vaded the place of her retreat, carried her away, 'vi ei 
 irmis;' killed one man, and wounded several others.' 
 
 ' Is that all !' asked the magistrate. 
 
 ' I think that's enouj^h,' replied the parson, some- 
 what surprised at the interrogatory. 
 
 ' J"oo-foo-foo ! ' said Mr, Ileatley, 'why I know all 
 that already, except liiat part of it which is not trac 
 Kelly, man, carried away the girl, and what the devi," 
 ivould you have Rock do but shoot him when he stole 
 ;s sweetheart i Mav I never cross a double ditch on 
 
 Croppy's back, if I don't give him credit for what ho 
 
 has done; for by I'd have done it myself! Away 
 
 home with you, Rock, and mind your business.' 
 
 ' Surely you can't be serious,' said the jmrson. 
 
 ' Quito so,' returned the magistrate. 
 
 ' Without e.samining the witnesses V 
 
 ' For what, when I know it all myself ?' 
 
 ' Murder has been committed.' 
 
 ' I know it.' 
 
 ' Hy the prisoner.' 
 
 ' Very likely.' 
 
 ' Then, even if innocent, send him -.o trial, for he's 
 guilty of homicide.' 
 
 ' Stand aside, and mind your prayers. I know my 
 own business; and Godforliid I should send a man to 
 jail fur shooting a rascal who stole his girl from him.' 
 
 ' Good God !' ejaculated Cousins. 
 
 ' Nonsense,' cried the magistrate. 
 
 ' Ilis Majesty's government,' said the parson 
 
 'Does nothing for me,' returned Mr. Ileatley. 
 
 ' Will investigate the affair.' 
 
 ' With all ray heart," replied the magistrate, taking 
 me by the shoulder, and shoving me into the hall. 
 ' Away now,' said he in a whisper, as he shut the par- 
 lor, 'run for your life, and if you full, don't wait to 
 
 get np, for by if you are caught, you'll be hung as 
 
 high as Ramsay. Run,' be continned, as he shut the 
 hall door after me. 
 
 ; To be Continued.] 
 
 PADDY CORCORAN. 
 
 'Welcome home, Paddy, and sure and a puriy time 
 yOH wor away from us,' was shouted out as Paddy 
 Corcoran hopped before his own cabin door, he evi- 
 dently appearing as one who was after seeing hard 
 service — his swelled face and black eye giving sure 
 evidence that he did not go and return from his usual 
 excursion without meeting with something beyond his 
 everyday manner of life. Paddy, as far as could be judged 
 from his one perfect eye, which beamed as bright as 
 all well-watiered eyes generally do, winked with great 
 significance to a bloated, dapper little man, who whis- 
 pered him — ' And have you the Queen's own (smug- 
 gled whisky) along wid you, Paddy dear?' 
 
 Paddy Corcoran was a regular hager or carman be- 
 tween his own native town and the capital of the same 
 county, who once a week received commissions to 
 gratify every taste, and satisfy the different wants which 
 the capital should supply, and although Paddy was as 
 irregular as the different houses of call on the road 
 could make him, yet his horse, true to its paces, whether 
 with or without its owner, was in due course received 
 by a crowd of expectants, who thronged around Pad- 
 dy's dwellings to feast their eyes with the newest im- 
 portations, and frequently the contents of the cargo 
 were fully distributed ere Paddy made his appearance, 
 whose arrival was often faciliated by bis being picked 
 up from off the road by some more sober neighbor, as 
 he drove along. 
 
 At this moment the dapper little man whom we 
 have mentioned gave a knowing wink, which was im- 
 mediately recognized by Paddy, who followed .him, 
 and as he was well known to sell a good 'dhrop,' and 
 as Paddy's arrival was a sure iudicaiion that there was 
 no fear of being disu|>pointed, and a strong cliance of 
 'hearing all about it,' some half a dozen of the boys 
 brought up the rear, untd they stopped before a house, 
 over the door of wliich_was inscribed, ' Entcrtuinment 
 for man and bcust,' into the taproom of which they 
 entered, and rapping for a pint of the ' rale sort,' in- 
 vited Paddy to sit ond partake of 'what's going,' who, 
 nothing loth, and finding himself again in his own 
 town, and amengst the neighbors, after tnking a hearty 
 swig of the tumbler, became himsolf again; and the 
 hoys, itching to have the particulars of Paddy's adven- 
 tures, continued priming him to the ' spaking ' point, 
 which, from his present dry condition, rcijuired some 
 time to soak the following account of his distant trav- 
 els. 
 
 ' And, och, boys, it's meself that's glad to see you 
 and Judy, and the childcr, once more Agin, and good 
 
 lack to yo. Never, whiles the world's a world, did 
 Paddy Corcoran 'spect to suffer the murdhering he's 
 after getting, or his two eyes to beliould what he did 
 behould. Sure, boys, yeerselves seed ine leaving this 
 lost Wednesday, full and hearty, and many's the com- 
 mission myself had to town for ihe neighbors; but bad 
 cess to the tay (tea) which the quality dhrinks, it has 
 been sore tay to me at any rate. When I got to the 
 big town, I called to deliver my messages. I wint to 
 the grocer's fur the tay, who tould me that he could not 
 give it thin, as the river was so full iv the rain, the 
 the boats coldn't come up. 
 
 ' But, Paddy,' ses he, ' maybe you would go yersclf 
 for it; and us t'other neighbors has goods lying also ac 
 the mouth of the river, I will get a load for ye to bring 
 back with ye.' 
 
 ' Wisha, sirs,' sez I, ' anything in honcsty*fo earn a 
 penny; and 1 have no business home widout the tay, I 
 may as well, wid a bles.<ing, go for it.' 
 
 ' So otV I sets, laughing wid myself what a fine story 
 I'd have to tell ye when I came back, hoys; and sure 
 enough, I had the fine story to tell — but I'm laughing 
 at the wrong side of my mouth. Well, as I was tellin' 
 ye, off I sets of a beautiful morning; and sure and 
 sartin, a delightfuller road I couldn't have of it. The 
 very birds wor glad to sec me, and the small 
 craihurs, with their whistling, seemed to say, ' You're 
 welcome out this fine morning, Paddy Corcoran !' 'Och, 
 success to ye, my darlints, and more power to ycr 
 windpipes,' sez I, 'for iligent nightingales, and the 
 curscof Cromwell attind the farmer that 'ud begridge 
 ye a morsel from bis corn-fields; and the next house I 
 come to,' siz I, ' I'll drink yer health, and a welcome.' 
 And shure enough as luck 'ud have it, I was jist beside 
 a cozy little one, where I wint in and calls for me 
 morning, barrin' the one I tuck before I came out.' 
 
 ' But, Paddy,' siz I, ' as you are in a strange country, 
 maybe ye doesn't know where the best is to be had.' 
 
 ' Wid that, myself begins to consider; but as I didn't 
 know how many was on this road, 'Why, thin,' sez I, 
 'I had better thry this one at any rate, fur fear of a dis- 
 appointment.' So^^myself did, and a good drop it was, 
 too. 
 
 ' Well, boys, if ye were to see Paddy Corcoran, wid 
 all the birds in the air singing above him, and all the 
 fishes in that beautiful river dancing up and down about 
 him, and the fine road under him, shure ye might say 
 he was as happy as the son of an Irish king; but wait a 
 bit, till ye hear what befel him hereafter. On and on I 
 wint, and och, the country that was afore me, and the 
 mountains at one side of me, and the beautiful river at 
 the foot. ' Shure, sez I, ' this beats Banagber; and 
 them fine boats, too — yurrali, where are they going in 
 such a hurry." And och, as I wint along, and still seed 
 mountains upon mountains, till ye'd think they'd ritch 
 the ind of the world, wid big forests upon them that 
 looked like hanging from the sky, wid puity houses in 
 the middle of them — thinks Paddy to himself, where 
 are you ? — and it's myself couldn't tell. And I begins 
 to consider — 'Didn't you ever hear tell of any place 
 like it, at all at all. Wisha, thin, I have it,' says I, 
 ihis is the charming place that the gorsoon was reading 
 about. This is Killarney,' sez I, 'and it's myself must 
 stop at Killarney,' and share I was in luck agin, for 
 what should 1 see but ' licensed to sell spirits;' and 
 never a fear had 1 now what they sould, as I deter- 
 mined to try every house of that sort along the rpad, 
 that when I tame back, or ever went the road again, 1 
 would know where to get the best sup — and a storng 
 sup 1 got there to my sorrow, for I couldn't keep aisy 
 for roaring and bawling, ' I'm come lo Killarney !' 
 And niurhderin Irish, over the way in the big moun. 
 tains, a hundred voices cried out, 'Paddy Corcoran's 
 come to Killarney !' ' Well, that's mighty odd,' sez I, 
 and jist as I said it, up comes a sthruping fellow, and 
 axed me what call had I to the Lariieys. ' Nothing at 
 all, avick,' sez 1; 'he all uccuunis the Lirnejs is daeent 
 people, though myself hasn't their acquaintance.' 'He's 
 a Connaughtman,' sez one. ' lie's a Kcrryman,' sez 
 another. ' Anah, be aisy,' sez I. Wid that the sth tap- 
 per calls out, 'Does ye want to kill a Larney, while 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 357 
 
 the drop of their Mood is in my bclj r Hurrah for | ' Never say it twice,' says he; and away we goes op- 
 
 tho Larnoys,' siv. hv; aiul ho nps wid liia stick and j posite. 
 
 welted me, till I was kilt entirely—' Oh, bad cess to ' Welcome to town, Pady Corcoran !' 8cl a power 
 
 the tay,' sci I, I'm getting it witliont sugar or milk ! of voishes aronnd me. 
 
 Uch, Judy and the childer, never more will my eyes ' Be the powers of pewter, here's more of my conn 
 
 behould ye; nor no wake or funeral, nor no neigh- 
 bors to cry over mo. Och, don't murhder mo entirely, 
 scz I; and myself knows nothing more about it, till I 
 opened my eyes in the Peelers' barracks. 
 
 ' Gintlcmen,' sez I to them, ' is it fair that a poor 
 man should get this usage for nothing at all at all '!' 
 
 ' You'll get more of it, to your sorrow,' sc7. the strap- 
 per agin; ' let me see who will touch one of the Lar- 
 neys.' 
 
 ' Oh, boys, sez one of the Peelers, who must bo a 
 groat scholard, ' sure Paddy manes the Lakes of Kil- 
 larney.' , 
 
 ' And wid that the honest people seed I had no 
 spile to them, and we shuck hands, and mode it np at 
 next public house; and agin I was on the road, wid this 
 thumping black eye and broken face that ye sees upon 
 me — giving the promise to myself that sorra a sup 
 would enter my mouth, till I arrived at my journey's 
 end; and myself hadn't long lo keep it, for soon I sees 
 the town afore me. As myself intered it, I began to 
 look about very cutely for the house I had the letter to 
 — but all the shutters wor up. 'And sure this isn't 
 Sunday,' scz I; ' warn't to-day Tursday since I left the 
 big town. Sure it can't be a holiday, ailher," sez I, for 
 the doors would be open at any rate — It must be Sun- 
 day ! And och, millia murdher, I mast be kilt this 
 three days by the Larneys ! There's no help for mis- 
 fortunes,' scz I, 'and myself will put up the baste, and 
 get prayers at any rate.' So myself did put up at the 
 stage, andjglad I was to see the ostler was a MuUina- 
 hone boy. 
 
 'Arrah cushla,' sez I, 'trate the poor baste kindly, till 
 I goes to hear mass.' 
 
 ' There's no mass today,' sez he. 
 ■' Why, what day is this '>' sez I, beginning to doubt. 
 'And what would it be,' says he,' 'but Tursday.' 
 'And what is the shops shut for, thin V sez I. 
 ' Och, says he, 'the great big man over the way, that 
 sould the blankets, is dead.' 
 
 ' Is there more nor one,' sei I, ' bekase all the shops 
 is shut ■?' 
 
 ' Is that all you know about it V sez he; 'why, whin 
 a Christian dies here, all the town goes to his funeral.' 
 ' Thin ye are ov the right sort here,' scz I; 'and it's 
 myself will go and see yer town,' sez I, ' till the fune- 
 ral is over.' 
 
 ' And out I walks to see the boats; and shure myself 
 wondered to see them called after Christians — Mary 
 and Sally, and a power of other names. — ' Well, this is 
 quare enough,' sez I. 
 
 ' Welcome to town, Paddy Corcoran,' eez a voish 
 behind me. 
 
 ' I turns about, but as I did not know it, I thought it 
 was speaking to the boatman afore me, and thinks I, 
 there's more Paddy Corcorans nor one. 
 
 ' Welcome to town, Paddy Corcoran,' scz the boat- 
 man, that was now behind me. 
 
 ' Well, this bates any thing, any how,' sez I. 
 ' Welcome to town, Paddy Corcoran,' says the crew 
 of them. 
 
 ' Well, shure enough, it's myself they mean! — but 
 how does they know me ? Perhaps the great Coun- 
 shellor O'Connell toald them the plumper I gave to 
 the little county mimbcr in spite of my landlord. So 
 for fear of being^axed to take anything, myself will 
 take myself away,' says I; and wid that I walks away 
 from them. But such a shout of 'welcome to town, 
 Paddy Corcoran !' was raised after mo, that away I 
 runs entirely from them. 
 
 ' Welcome to town, Paddy Corcoran !' sez a daccnt 
 man, as he passed me. 
 ' Arrah, aviek,' sez I, 'doeJ you know mo 1' 
 ' To be sure I does,' sez he; 'and how is the wife and 
 childherl' 
 
 'Bravely,' scz I; ' and, maybe,' sez I, 'as we're in a 
 sthrange country, wo wouldn't be after taking a dlirop 
 'ogether.' 
 
 trymcn,' scz I; 'and never bo it said that Paddy Corco- 
 ran will ever deny them. Come along, boys, and Paddy 
 will thrato ye all.' 
 
 ' Welcome to town, Paddy Corcoran !' sez the pub- 
 lican. 
 
 ' Welcome to town, Paddy Corcoran I' said all the 
 place, and, 'welcome to town, Paddy Corcoran !' was 
 shouted in every direction, till myself didn't know what 
 to think of it. Howsomiver, I was determined to do 
 the ginteel, and called for lashins of whiskey.' 
 
 ' Welcome to town, Paddy Corcoran !' was still the 
 shout, until myself roaring out, 'welcome to town, 
 Paddy Corcoran! which every sup I took made it more 
 difficult to say; I sees the tables, stools, pots, tumblers, 
 and fifty candles, wid all in the room, and myself along 
 wid them, whirl around, and sorra a bit I knows what 
 happened after, till I found myself shuck by a gintle- 
 man, who axed me was I Paddy Corcoran.' 
 
 ' Plase yer honor, sir,' sez I, 'sure all the town 
 knows that already, and all the neighbors you sees 
 about me,' (raising myself on my.elbowj) but, och, 
 botheration, never a one did 1 see, but myself and the 
 gintleman. 
 
 ' Paddy,' says he,' 'the goods you come for yisther- 
 day is ready.' 
 
 ' No, yer honor,' sez I, ' twas to-day.' 
 ' Why, it's now but morning,' sez he. 
 ' Och, murdher, murdher, sir,' sez I, ' let it be any 
 day you plase, if, wid a blessin', I once agin sees day- 
 light sitttin' on the roof of my own cabin.' 
 
 ' Wid that up 1 leaps, and, shure enough, if the gin- 
 tleman didn't cry wid laughing — 'welcome to town 
 Paddy Corcoran !' 
 
 ' None of yer blarney, sirs,' sez I; I'll have nothin' 
 more to say to counthry acquaintances. Paddy has 
 suffered enough already by rason of this place.' 
 
 'No wonder, Paddy,' sez he, 'whin your name is 
 behind your back,' taking a paper from off it, wid 
 ' welcome to town, Paddy Corcoran !' written in big 
 letters upon it. 
 
 ' Och, may great big bad luck attiud that Muilliaa- 
 hone boy up yonder, that played me such a trick, sez I. 
 ' And ten thousand blessins on yer honor, and dispatch 
 me quick. 
 
 ' Very well, Paddy,' sez he. 
 
 ' Wid that I calls for the reck'ning, and, wurrah ! 
 wurrah ! sich a bill tor quarts of whiskey and gallons 
 of porther,that would sail a boat down to the sayjintire- 
 ly. Out I was obliged to pull all the change about 
 me, and much more nor that, that Peggy Clancy gave 
 me to buy the sthraw bonnet and the shoes. Well, 
 when I had my loading ready, off I sets; and when I 
 was going out of town, ' welcome to town, Paddy 
 Corcoran 1' was fresh as ever. 'Bardcrshin,' sez I, 
 and left them, sore and sorrowful, and wid a heavy 
 heart I fetched my load to the big town, and the very 
 birds and fishes themselves seemed to fret for me, and 
 with a dhry mouth and empty pockets home I come. 
 And here I am, detarmined niver to visit foreign parts 
 
 him forth to the spot, and pointing his fiinger at the 
 mint, he exclaimed — 
 
 ' I say, landlord, will you be good enough to say 
 what is this ?' 
 
 ' A bed of mint," said the somewhat astonished 
 landlord. 
 
 ' And will you plea.se tell mc what is the use of 
 itr 
 
 ' Well, don't exactly know, 'cept the old woman 
 dries it sometimes with the other yarbs.' 
 
 The Virginian alrnost turned pale at the enormity 
 of the assertion. 
 
 ' And do you mean to tell me that you don't know 
 what a mint julep is ?' 
 
 'Not 'eept it's something like sage tea, stranger.' 
 
 ' Sage tea !' Go right along to the house, get a 
 bucket of ice, loaf sugar and your best liquor.' 
 
 The landlord obeyed, and the stranger soon made 
 his appearance with a handful of the fragrant, dewy 
 mint, and then they brewed and drank again. 
 Breakfast was over, and the stranger's horse was 
 brought out, only to be ordered back again. 
 Through the livelong day they brewed and drank; 
 one or two neighbors dropped in, who were par- 
 takers, and late in the night were their orgies kept 
 up. Ere they made it bed time, the landlord and 
 his Virginia friend, who had initiated him into the 
 pleasant mysteries of mint julep, were sworn broth- 
 ers; and when the latter departed next morning, 
 Boniface exacted a pledge that he should stop on 
 his return, and stay as long as he pleased, free of 
 cost. 
 
 The stranger's business, however, detained him 
 longer than he expected; and it was the next sum- 
 mer before he came back. 
 
 Biding up late in the evening, he gave his horse 
 to an old negro who was at the gate, and at the same 
 time inquired — 
 
 ' Well, Sam, how is your master ?' 
 
 ' Yonder him come,' said the negro, pointing to a 
 youth who was approaching. 
 ' I mean your old master, fool.' 
 
 ' Old massa ! him done and dead dis tree month.' 
 
 < Dead I What was the matter with him ? He 
 was in fine health when I left him.' 
 
 'Yes; but see. Massa stranger, one of them Vir- 
 ginia gemmens come along here last year and showed 
 him how to eat greens in his liekerj he liked it so 
 well he done stuck to him till it kill him,' said the 
 old darkey, shaking his head. 
 
 The stranger passed a less jovial night than on his 
 previous visit, and was off by daybreak the next 
 morning. He quieted his conscience, however, in 
 the end, with the reflection that good things are 
 sometimes misused. 
 
 A Vihginia Tbavellbb and a Kentucky I,anu- 
 LORi). — A traveller from Virginia, as his blooded 
 horse, plethoric saddle-bags, and haughty ' insou- 
 ciance' indicated, stopped at a comfortable wayside 
 inn, in Kentucky, one night mtiny years ago. The 
 landlord was a jovial, wholcsouled fellow, as land- 
 lords were in those days, and gave the stranger the 
 best entertainments his table and bar would afford, 
 as well as his own merry company to make him glad. 
 Early in the morning the stranger was up and look- 
 ing around, when he espied a rich bed of mint in 
 the garden. Ho straightway found Boniface, and 
 indignant at what he supposed his inhoapitality in 
 setting plain whiskey before him, when the means 
 of brewing nectar was so easy of access, he dragged 
 
 A Minikin three feet and a half colonel, being one 
 day at the drill, was examining a strapper of si.x 
 feet four. 
 
 ' Come, fellow, hold up your head ; higher, fel- 
 low' 
 
 ' Yes, sir.' 
 
 'Higher, fellow, higher.' 
 
 i What — so, sir ?' 
 
 ' Yes, fellow.' 
 
 ' Must 1 always remain so ?' 
 
 ' Yes, fellow, to be sure,' 
 
 ' Why, then, good bye, colonel, for I newr shall 
 see you again.' 
 
 Skin 'em. — ' Boy, you seem to be quite smart, 
 altogether too smart for the school. Can you tell 
 me horn many six bla';k beans are ?' 
 
 ' Yes, sir, iialf a dozen.' 
 
 ' Well, how many are half a dozon while beans i' 
 
 ' Six.' 
 
 • Tremendous smart boy ! Now tell me how many 
 white bcAus there are in six black one.< r' 
 
 ' Half a dozen, if you skin 'cm.' 
 
358 
 
 imSH MISCELLANY. 
 
 THE IRISH WIFE. 
 
 BY THOMAS D'ARCT MC OEI. 
 
 1 would not kIvo ray Irish wife 
 
 For all the dumcs of Snxon land — 
 J would uot rWc my Irish wife 
 
 For tlie Ijueeu ofFrance'dband. 
 For she to nie h dearer 
 
 Than caMleoctrong, or lauds, or UTo; 
 In death I would be near her, 
 
 And rise beside my Irish wife I 
 
 Oh, what would be this home o'. mine — 
 
 A ruiucd, hermil-hauutcd place, 
 But for the IIkIii that iiiKhtly shines 
 
 I'pon its Willis from Kathleen's face? 
 What comfort in a mine of gold, 
 
 What pleasure in a royal life, 
 If the heart within lay dead and cold. 
 
 If I could not wed my Irish wife? 
 
 1 knew the law forbade the banns— 
 
 I knew my King abhorred her race — 
 Who never bent before their clans, 
 
 JIust bow before their ladies' grace 
 Take all my forfeited domain, 
 
 1 cannot wage with kinsmen strife — 
 Take knightly gear and noble name, 
 
 And I will keep my Irish wife. 
 
 My Irish wife has clear blue eyes, 
 
 My heaven by day, my stars by night; 
 And twin-like truth and fondness lie 
 
 Within her swelling bosom white : 
 My Irish wife has golden hair — 
 
 Apollo's harp had once euch strings — 
 Apollo's self might pause to hear 
 
 Uer bird-like carol when she sings! 
 
 MY CONSULSHIP. 
 
 ROME AND POPE PIUS THE NINTH. 
 
 BY C. EDWARDS LESTEU. 
 
 [Continued.] 
 
 The ne.Tt morning, at nine o'clock, the electors 
 ■went to the chapel to proceed to the election. The 
 Cardinal Micara, deacon of the sacred college, would 
 have marched at their head, but a severe illness de- 
 tained hira in his cell, and the sub-deacon 
 took his place. The seats of the chapel being re- 
 moved, an open square was left in the nave, around 
 which were elevated two thrones, surmounted with 
 their scarlet canopies. In front of the door, the 
 altar was already illuminated for the mass. In the 
 centre of the square, a table, covered by a cloth of 
 gold, and surrounded by three rich chairs, awaited 
 the three secretaries. At the right of the altar was 
 the fumetta, a kind of a stove, in which the votes 
 were burned after each balloting, till the election 
 took place. 
 
 The sub-deacon ascended the steps of the altar 
 with his two a.ssistants ; the cardinals took their 
 places on the right and left, on tlieir respective 
 thrones — now all equal — now all princes — since 
 any one of them might, in an hour — become the 
 head of the Catholic world. The bishops put the 
 stole aiound their necks, and the priests and dea- 
 cons were in full dress for the altai service. The 
 entire college was at this moment robed in those 
 georgcous vestments which add such grandeur 
 to the ceremonies of the Koman Catholic church. It 
 ■was an imposing spectacle — those fifty-two old men, 
 from whose number was to go forth a king and a 
 pontiff. 
 
 It was a solemn crisis, and all present seemed to 
 feci that a work of awful moment lay before them. One 
 of their number said to me afterwards, ' If wc had 
 known all the mighty consequences which have since 
 followed the day, I doubt if wo should have felt more 
 solemn. It has since been shown that we were apply, 
 ing the torch to a mine that was to explode Europe. 
 Even then, every man present seemed to act as 
 thoogh he was holding the match in his own hand.' 
 
 Jlass was said in the midst of the profoundest con- 
 templation. Curdiaal Macchi explained the prescribed 
 order ot proceedings. Each elector took his seat, and 
 the college wa^ Uh alone. 
 
 The election was now to be made in one of three I 
 ways. Ist. By acclamation ; that U, when the whole 
 college proclaims the same man without a dilference 
 of opinion, which was impossible in tlie present case. 
 2d. By compromise ; when no harmony exists, and, 
 despairing of union or an election, all agree to leave 
 the settlement to a committee, by whoso decisions they 
 arc bound, which is never resorted to in the beginning. 
 .3d. By secret ballot, which is the common way of 
 election. 
 
 Printed ballots arc prepared by the master of cere- 
 monies, and kept in two urns on the secretary's table, 
 and the electors take them when they please. One 
 committee was chosen to examine the ballots, and an 
 other to visit the cells of the sick cardinals, who could 
 not leave their beds. These committees are drawn by 
 lot in the following manner : — Into a purple damask 
 bag, as many little balls are put ns their are electors, 
 and their names inscribed on them. The first three 
 drawn designated the tellers ; the first in order was to 
 open the ballots, the second to record the votes, and 
 the third to proclaim the result of each trial. The sub- 
 deacon shakes up the bag and blesses it, and the 
 youngest deacon draws. Mastai came out the third ; 
 it was his duty to proclaim the votes. Then the 
 drawing took place for the sick. Lambruschini was 
 one of the committee. The cardinals came forward, 
 ten at a time, took ballots, filled and sealed them. As 
 fast as this was done, each one took his ballot between 
 his thumb and finger, raised his arm over his head,and 
 went and kneeled before the altar, on which was a 
 large chalice. After a short prayer, he rose, and pro- 
 nouncing the following oath — "TeBtor Christum Domi 
 num, qui me judicttturus est, mi eligere, quern secun- 
 dum Deum judico elegi debere et quod idem in accessu 
 praestabo,' deposits his ballot in the chalice, kneels 
 again, and returns to his place. 
 
 When all present had voted, the ballots of the sick 
 (there were five of them_) were brought in and deposit- 
 ed in the same manner. The first teller then took 
 down the chalice, shook it, and handed it to Mastai. 
 The number was found to be correct, and they pro- 
 ceeded to open them. At this most solemn moment 
 of the first day more than one heart beat convulsively. 
 The first teller, with his back towards the chalice, took 
 the ballots out one by one, opened them so as not to 
 discover the names, and passed them to the second, 
 who read them in a low voice, and, after registering 
 them, gave them to the third, who proclaimed them. 
 ' Mastai called the name of Lambruschini fifteen times, 
 ! and thirteen times his own. The rest of the votes were 
 scattering. 
 
 The first result produced an electric shock on the 
 assembly. A buzzing noise followed. The college 
 expected the election of Lambruschini on the 
 first balloting. Who was this unknown rival, who, at 
 the firrt trial, obtained nearly one-third of the votes. 
 The people have since considered it a miracle, and it 
 was quite as unexpected as one. A most strange in- 
 cident now took place. Cardinal Mastai had hardly 
 pronounced his own name the thirteenth time, when a 
 dove flew into the upper window of the chapel, and 
 descending, fluttered around his head ! The whole as- 
 sembly started. It seemed to be a miraculous mani- 
 festation of the approbation of heaven. It appeared as 
 though God himself thus put his seal upon his anointed 
 vicegerent. The fate of Italy and of Europe was bal- 
 ancing. 
 
 Lambruschini was feared, for it was known that he 
 controlled a most powerful influence. The great 
 majority of the college had no leanings towards 
 liberalism ; who then should they elect i Not Gizzi, 
 whojwas to be the candidate of the best men in the 
 college, for he could not commanda majority. Mastai 
 was a devoted bishop. a man overflowing with humanity- 
 There were thirteen members who kiewhis extraordi- 
 nary virtue, and they voted for him, because they 
 thought he would run into no excesses of arbitrary 
 power ; but it is certain that rot one of the college 
 dreamed he was so radical in his political opinions as 
 he proved. 
 
 If a thunderbolt had fallen on Lambrusehini's head. 
 
 he would hardly have been morestunncd than when ho 
 heard the announcement that he had but fifteen votes, 
 lie had entertained no doubt of his election up to that 
 moment. 
 
 The stove i)ipe conducts the smoke into the public 
 square, and ns long as the smoko is seen the people 
 know that their chief is not elected. 
 
 Home was transported with passion. The cafes 
 were filled with anxious men. Various and contra- 
 dictory reports were flying ; alt was terror and desper- 
 ation. The Homans were resolved that a tyrant 
 should reign over them no longer. At last the report 
 was spread through the town that the people's candi- 
 date, Gizzi, was elected. It was believed ; a courier 
 set off to his native place with the news; the city of 
 the cardinal was at once illuminated ; his palace was 
 crowded by the people ; his servants who had thus, ac- 
 cording to ancient custom, become possessed of alibis 
 personal properly, drnnk up all his wine, and gave an 
 entertainment of great magnificence. A few hours af- 
 ter, a second courier arrived with difl'ercnt intelligence. 
 The mistake cost poor Gizzi six thousand dollars, and 
 nearly cost the first messenger his life. 
 
 In the mean time, a strange drama was playing in 
 the conclave. Three ballotings had taken place; each 
 time the hopes of Lambruschini and Austria were 
 growing darker; Mastai was gaining. The second 
 trial he had gained four votes, and Lambruschini lost 
 two. On the third trial Mastai announced the name 
 of his rival but eleven times, and his own twenty- 
 seven. 
 
 The fourth and last scrutiny opened at three o'clock, 
 P. M., the 16th. Mastai was at his post, pale and 
 sad ; he had not had the shadow of hope or prospect 
 of the Pontificate, and he was overwhelmed with the 
 destiny that seemed to await him. He had passed the 
 intervals of the ballotings in prayer. The ballots wore 
 now thrown into the chalice for the last time. The 
 opening began amidst breathless silence. Mastai read 
 his name on the first ballot, the second, third, fourth, 
 and on to the seventeenth without interruption. His 
 hand and voice trembled, and he stopped an instant. 
 He went on ; opened the eighteenth, and saw his name 
 again. His eyes filmed ; he prayed the assembly to 
 compassionate him, and to charge another cardinal to 
 read in his place. Mastai forgot, in the simple honesty 
 of his heart, that a scrutiny even thus interrupted could 
 annul an election. The cardinals answered, ' Take 
 time; repose a moment ; wo will wait for your emi- 
 nence.' 
 
 A young member came forward and obliged Mastai 
 to sit and repose himself; one of his colleagues gave 
 him a glass of water ; he drank, and sat trembling and 
 speechless. A moment after large tears came rushing 
 down his face. 
 
 The shock, so deep, so affecting, and so true, show- 
 ed that Mastai felt how grand and fearful a responsi- 
 bility was before him. To the majority of the cardi- 
 nals he was almost a stranger. They had passed most 
 of their lives at court ; ho had long been gone from the 
 capital ; and, in the holy engagements of his minis- 
 try, was almost as much unknown to his colleagues, 
 as though he were not one of the conclave. But 
 now they saw the man they had voted for 
 and their hearts were won by the pure ingeni- 
 ousness of his character. After some minutes of 
 great solemnity, Mastai rose and approached the ta- 
 ble, sustained by two of his colleagues. The open- 
 ing went slowly on. Again, he read his own name, 
 again and again, till at last (he needed but thirty- 
 six votes — two-thirds of all, that were present) he 
 had pronounced it thirty-six times. Nearly all the 
 cardinals rose ; one voice only was heard in the 
 arches of the chapel; and the election was confirmed 
 by acclamation. Mastai fell to his knees. The 
 spectacle of that yoimg Pontiff, on whose shoulders 
 had been so suddenly thrown the weight of a tem- 
 poral and spiritual empire, bo.wing meekly before 
 the majesty of heaven, affected the assembly. Or- 
 der was at once restored. Every eye was filled with 
 tears. 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 359 
 
 There are certnin moments in the life of the histo- 
 rian wlien he must feel solemn ; for he is fixing his 
 eye on events upon whicli Heaven itself has ga?;etl 
 as erisis, towards ivhich all the convcvging streams 
 of influence and destiny have been long flowing- 
 events for which Providence has long been prepar- 
 ing mankind — events which are to decide what their 
 future fortunes are to be. 
 
 Of such events, the calling of Abraham, the birth 
 of Cyrus, the death of Cicsar, the coming of the 
 Saviuor, the destruction of Jerusalem, the conversion 
 of Constantine, the irruption of the Barbarians, the 
 great victory of Charles Martel over the Saracens, 
 the preaching of Peter the Hermit, the discovery of 
 the Bible by Luther, the birth of Galileo, the dis- 
 coveries of Columbus and Vasco de Gama, the 
 triumph of Cromwell, the embarkation of the Pil- 
 grims, the preaching of Wesley, the declaration of 
 Independence, the French Kevolution of 1789, the 
 elevation, the victories, and final death of Napoleon 
 — may all come in for a deep and permanent interest 
 in the feelings of all who read history, either for the 
 purpose of seeing the great plans of Providence, or 
 tracing the chequered fortunes of humanity. 
 
 The college had been in session forty hours, and 
 the anxiety of the Roman people to know what 
 their destiny would be had reached the last point of 
 intensity. The streets and piazzas were filled with 
 groups of excited men, and citizens seemed to wear 
 on their faces a troubled but determined look, like 
 men who are nerving themselves up to hei.r of some 
 tremendous calamity. In speaking of this terrible 
 crisis, a venerable and devoted prelate of Home 
 (who had been long hoping and waiting for a day 
 of reformation in the Catholic Church) said to me, 
 'I know of nothing in history that could have 
 been so painful, unless it may have been wliile the 
 flying Hebrews were standing on the shore of the 
 Red Sea, with their trembling women and children, 
 watching the distant cloud of dust that rose up into 
 heaven, as the chariots of the Egyptians came 
 sweeping over the desert, and before the pillar of 
 fire moved on, and the sea divided to let those 
 weary millions pass over.' 
 
 Towards evening, on the 16th of June, the Piazza 
 del Quirinale was filled with an anxious multitude, 
 waiting for the smoke coming from the burning of 
 the ballots of the conclave. A thousand bells came 
 chiming calmly and sweetly on the ears of the pal- 
 pitating thousands, and every eye was strained to 
 catch, through the fading twilight, the blue smoke, 
 curling up the sides of the Quirinal. But no signal 
 appeared, and Rome knew that her prince was 
 chosen. Every man breathed quicker, and asked 
 his neighbor, ' Who is it V But no one could an- 
 swer the question. 
 
 At length the report started that the learned and 
 good Cardinal Gizzi, the acknowledged head of the 
 Italian, or reform party, was elected. 
 
 It flew over the city, and the crowd began to dis- 
 perse. Enough was known of Gizzi to banish the 
 apprehensions Rome had felt for the result, and it 
 was no longer doubted that the Ecclesiasticul State 
 would find repose from its suffering — more, the Ro- 
 mans did not dare to hope. 
 
 At a late hour the capital grew quiet, and waited 
 for the coming day. Early the following morning 
 the population of Rome came rushing to the great 
 Piazzi di Monte Cavallo (only another name for the 
 Piazza del Quirinale, but bo called because in the 
 centre of the square stands the classic marble foun- 
 tain, around which are still seen the celebrated 
 Greek horses, so wonderfully sculptured by Phidias, 
 or some other master of antiquity) to see the new 
 prince, into whose hands God had committed their 
 fortunes. A\'hile the vast multitude, in which all 
 ranks, and sexes, and ages, and conditions, were 
 tumultuously blended, was waiting with impatience 
 the appearance of the Pontifi", the brick began to 
 fall from the window that opens out of the Hall of 
 
 Conclave on the balcony. This passage, as we have 
 already remarked, had been walled up, that no 
 communication might be left open between the col- 
 lego and the external world. 
 
 Through the opening the Cardinal Chamberlain 
 in a few moments appeared, to proclaim the Pope. 
 His face was raident with joy as he came forward, 
 and beckoned to the dense mass (probably not less 
 than two hundred thousand persons) below him to 
 hold silence. 
 
 'Rommani,' he cried in a loud voice, ' annuntio 
 vobis gandium magnum ; Papam habemus eminent- 
 tissimum ac reverendissimum dominura Joanen 
 Mariam Mastai Ferretti, S. R. U. presbyterium 
 cardinalem, qui sibi nomen imposuit Pius IX. 
 Roman's, I announce to you joyful tidings. We 
 have a Pontiif, the most eminent and most reverend 
 Giovanni Maria Mastai Feretti, of the holy Roman 
 Church, a presbyter cardinal, who has taken the 
 name of Pius the Ninth.' 
 
 These words were spoken in the tongue which 
 was heard in that same piazza two thousand years 
 before ; but they were understood by the listeners ; 
 and a shout came back, ' Viva Pio Nino !' Long 
 live Pius IX. 
 
 The Loggia was already filled with cardinals, and 
 at last the man whom Rome hoped most fervently 
 had been sent by God as the deliverer of the Italians, 
 himself appeared before them. When the immense 
 crowd caught the first glance of the noble form of 
 the Bishop of Imola, and before the murmurs of 
 the first shout had died away, an involuntary burst 
 of joy and gratitude to God went up to heaven. It 
 was followed a moment after by a wild prolonged 
 appeal, and those who stood on the Loggia have told 
 me that) the pillars of the Quirinal trembled to the 
 shock. 
 
 The Pontiff Extended his arms, and lifting his 
 eyes to Heaven, blessed his people. That vast crowd 
 was hushed while he spoke ; and when the benedic- 
 tion was finished they sent back their loud amen. 
 
 AVhen Pius heard the response and their acclama- 
 tions, and saw their hands lifted imploringly to 
 him, speaking a language that could not be misun- 
 derstood, for there were gathered hundreds of 
 thousands of Romans beseeching him to be their 
 father as well as their prince, Pio Nono's heart was 
 melted, and tears of gratitude and consolation floW' 
 ed down his face. From that hour the angel of 
 concord united children and father, subjects and 
 sovereign, faith and religion ! 
 
 From the Hall of Conclave, late on the night of 
 the election, Pius IX. wrote the following letter to 
 his 
 
 'Deakest BiioTHERS, Gabuiele, Giuseppe, and 
 Gaitano. The blessed God, who humbles and ex- 
 alts, has been pleased to raise my unworthiness to 
 the most sublime dignity of the earth. I know, in 
 some measure, the almost infinate weight of. such a 
 charge, and I equally know the poverty, and indeed 
 the absolute nothingness of my spirit. Ask the 
 prayers of others, and pray for me yourselves. The 
 conclave lasted forty hours. If the Commune wish 
 to spend anything in giving a demonstration, see 
 that the sum expended (it is my will) be entirely 
 devoted to something useful to the city, as the Gon- 
 falonicre and councillors may judge best. As for 
 you, dear brothers, I embrace you with all my heart 
 in Jesus Christ ; and [so far from exulting in my 
 elevation, compassionate your brother, who give to 
 you all his first apostolical benediction. 
 
 P. P. IX.' 
 At midnight an express was sent with the fore- 
 going letter to Singaglia, the PontifTs native city, 
 and, before daylight, the gates of Rome swung open 
 to let the couriers fly to spread the joyful intelli- 
 gence of the election of Pio Nono, wherever Roman 
 exiles were waiting in sadness and hope. Five days 
 after his election, the 21st June, the new Pope was 
 crowned in the church of St. Peter. We shall at- 
 
 tempt no description of that imposing ceremony, 
 nor of the mighty structure under whose sky-reach- 
 ing dome it was celebrated, for, to give an idea of 
 the ceremony, a larger space would be required than 
 my limits can spare, and to give an adequate con- 
 ception of St. Peter's, by words, seems to me to be 
 absolutely impossible. Michael Angelo gave the 
 best description of it before it was built, by saying, 
 ' I will hang the Pantheon in the heavens.' 
 
 The coronation of a Pontift' is always a magnifi- 
 cent ceremony ; it is the most imposing sight ever 
 witnessed in Italy — a land where all that is impos- 
 ing brings its sanctioned tribute on such occasions. 
 The coronation of Pius difl'ercd from those which 
 had preceded it, chiefly in a greater degree of sol- 
 emnity — St. Peter's was crowded with anxious 
 hearts. The first burst of joy which attended the 
 announcement of Count Mastai's election had been 
 rather a negative feeling. Everybody was glad that 
 Lambruschini had failed. It was more exultation 
 over the defeat of Austria than delight at the 
 triumph of patriotism and liberty; little was known 
 of Pius IX. by his people. Mastai had seldom left 
 his diocese ; he had become almost a stranger in 
 Rome, He was shut up in the convent of Piratello, 
 (one of the bis-annual retreats he had instituted for 
 pure and benevolent purposes), instructing his 
 clergy, when a courier on a foaming horse halted at 
 the gate, bringing the dispatch which told him Gre- 
 gory was dead. Indeed, the Romans couldknow little 
 of their new Pope. Rome was bleeding; thousands 
 of her children were in damp dungeons, or distant 
 exile ; despotism reigned ; corruption and profHi- 
 gacy were everywhere triumphant ; even a reformer 
 would find every step an Herculean labor — if indeed 
 some subtle poison or treacherous knife did not ar- 
 rest him in his first onset against the Collosus of 
 crime and tyranny that overshadowed Rome. Be- 
 sides, who knew what Pius IX. would do ? Who 
 could decide what his first edict would be ? Who 
 so mad as to expect a reformer from the Vactican ? 
 It were worse than to look for a republican, born 
 with a diadem on his head, and descended from a 
 long line of kings. 
 
 That congregation, of I know not how many tens 
 of thousands, gathered before the tomb of St. Peter, 
 with its massive bronze columns and gorgeous can- 
 opy, and thousand lamps of silver and gold, and 
 precious stones, had too much at stake to be joy- 
 ous ; no pageant could banish their anxiety. The 
 first shout of joy that followed the election of Mastai 
 had been wild, maniac-like. The public mind soon 
 grew familiar with this negative triumph ; it could 
 not rest on so unsubstantial a feeling ; it required 
 something stronger, deeper, more inspiring. Five 
 days had cooled the popular feeling, and a melan- 
 choly that had grown out of many years of suffer- 
 ing was not to be dispelled till some radical change 
 had taken place in the political condition of the 
 Roman people. Pio Nono knew all this. He was 
 crowned, and the uncounted multitude poured forth 
 from the Cathedral aisles, and lined the way their 
 new sovereign must pass in returning to the Quiri- 
 nal. The Pontifical train swept through dense 
 masses, kneeling on either side ; but the cortege 
 moved on in silence. No shouts rent the sky ; not 
 a voice was heard even to proclaim viva Pio Nono. 
 But, without a spoken word, a sublime voice went 
 up from four hundred thousand kneeling supplicants 
 for pardon for their husbands, fathers, brothers,and 
 friends, in prison or in exile. That voice went to 
 the heart of the PontilF. His noble purpose was 
 fixed, but the world knew nothing of his determi- 
 nation. The chilling coldness with which the 
 Romans had assisted at the coronation, and aftsr- 
 wards received the first Pontifical benediction from 
 St. Peter's, afllictcd the Pope for a moment. On his 
 return to the palace, Pius said to those about him, 
 'The Romans appear to treat me hard ; but 1 un- 
 derstand the reason. It will not take me long to 
 show Rome and all Italy that no prince or pontiff 
 can be loved by his people, unless he becomrs the 
 fatlicr of liis subjects and children.' And yet that 
 niglit Pius did not sleep ! 
 
 (To be Continued.] 
 
3G0 
 
 lUlSH MlSCELIiANY. 
 
 MALAHIDE CASTLE. 
 
 The caatle of Malahidc, the residence of 
 the ancient fuinily of Talbot, is acarceiy sur- 
 paised in interest, arising from various 
 sources, by any building in the county of 
 which it forms a distinguished ornament. 
 This structure, as it stood in tlie early part 
 of the Inst century, was of contracted dimen- 
 sions, and, although surrounded by a moat, 
 ■was not castellated. The various additions 
 which no\¥ render it an object of considera- 
 ble magnificence, and a capacious residence, 
 suited to the exercise of a dignified hospitali- 
 ty, were chiefly carried into elTect by the 
 late Colonel Talbot, father of the present pro- 
 prietor. The building, thus enlarged, is an 
 extensive pile, of square proportions, Hanked 
 on the principal side by circular towers. A 
 tine Gothic porch, or chief entrance, has been 
 constructed under the direction of the present 
 owner of the castle, greatly to the advantage 
 of the building, in regard both to external 
 ornament and the convenience of the interior. 
 The moat is now tilled up, and its sloping surface 
 covered with verdant sward. The demesne and 
 gardens are disposed with much correctness of taste, 
 and the former is enriched with some venerable 
 timber and numerous plantations. 
 
 The interior of the mansion affords many objects 
 of gratification. The apartment of greatest curiosity 
 is wainscotted throughout wirh oak, elaborately 
 carved in compartments representing the history of 
 Adam and other scriptural subjects, some of which 
 are executed with much skill ; the chimney- 
 piece is carved with peculiar beauty, having in the 
 central division figures of the Virgin and child. 
 This figiire of the Virgin is the subject of a marvel- 
 
 H O S S CASTLE. 
 
 The suit of principal rooms comprises several 
 lofty and handsome aparnnonts, in which, among 
 other embellishments, are some very costly speci- 
 mens of porcelain ; but the most estimable orna- 
 ments consist of a collection of portraits and other 
 paintings, which comprises several that are worthy 
 of an attentive examination. 
 
 Among these stands unrivalled in altercation an 
 altarpicce by Albert Durer, divided into three com- 
 partments, representing the nativity, adoration, and 
 circumcision. The picture was purchased by King 
 Charles the Second for two thousand pounds, and 
 given by him to the Duchess of Portsmouth, 
 who presented it to the grandmother of Colonel 
 
 lous tradition among the rustics of Malahide ; they \ Talbot. 
 
 assert that during the civil wars, whilst the castle The distinguished line of the house of Talbot, 
 wcs in possession of Cromwell and his partizans, I long settled at Malahide, is said to be descended 
 the statue indignantly disappeared, but resumed its i from the eldest branch of the family ; and with the 
 station after the return of the Talbot family. It is | Talbots of Yorkshire, derives from Sir Geoflrey, 
 fortunate that some friend of the family removed it I who was Governor of Hereford for the Empress 
 at that time beyond the reach of the fanatics. The Maud, in opposition to King Stephen. St. Law- 
 entire wainscotting is highly varnished, and has ac- I rence of Ilowth and Talbot of Malahide arc the 
 
 Among the memorable circumstances con- 
 nected with the annulii of this castle, may bo 
 nuntionod a iBmcntable inNlance of the fero- 
 city with which parly rivalry was con- 
 ducted, in ages during which the inter- 
 nal polity of Ireland was injuriously neg- 
 lected by the supreme head of the govern- 
 ment. 
 
 On Whitsun-eve, in the year 1329, 
 John dc ISirmingham, Earl of Louth, Kichard 
 Talbot, styled Lord Malahide, and many of 
 their kindred, together with sixty of their 
 Knglish f'lUowers, were slain in a pitched 
 Ijattle at Balbriggan, by the Anglo-Noiraan 
 faction of the de Verdons, de Ciernons, and 
 Savages; the cause of animo.sity being the 
 (lection of the earl to the palatine dignity of 
 Louth, tliC couniy of ihg latter party. 
 
 It is bilicved that Oliver Cromwell look up 
 his abode a short time at Malahide, and it is 
 known that Mylo Corbet, ihe regicide, resid- 
 ed here for several years, and from this port, 
 when outlawed at the restoration, Corbet 
 took shipping for the continent. The subsequent 
 expiation of his errors by a degrading death is well 
 known, and, shortly after his flight from Malahide, 
 the Talbot family regained possession of their es- 
 tate. 
 
 Malahide is a lordship or manor, having courts 
 leet and baron, and has belonged in fee to tho Tal- 
 bot family from a period very closely approaching 
 to the Anglo-Norman invasion in the lime of Henry 
 the Second. 
 
 quired a sombre but striking effect from a blackness 
 of tint which causes the apartment to appear like a 
 vast cabinet of ebony. 
 
 only families in the county of Dublin who retain 
 the possessions of their ancestors acquired at the 
 English invasion. 
 
 ROSS CASTLE. 
 
 In a previous number of the Miscellanj- we gave 
 an illustration and some of the principle incidents 
 connected with the history of tliis far-famed castle. 
 The cut which we give above, though small, never- 
 theless presents a picturesque view of the castle and 
 surrounding mountains, as seen from the Lake of 
 Killarney, and from all parts of the lake; and from 
 every one of the adjacent mountains, the castle is » 
 most interesting and attractive point in the scenery, 
 and it amply repays the honor it receives by en- 
 abling the visitor to obtain, from the summit of its 
 tower, a commanding N-iew of every important ob- 
 ject by which it is surrounded. 
 
 MALAHIDE CASTLE, COUNTY DUBLIN. 
 
• IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 361 
 
 IRISH MISCErLLANY. 
 
 THOMAS o'nEILI I'LTLISHEU AND rilOl'RIETOK. 
 
 BOSTON, SATUIIDAY, JANUAKY 15, 1869. 
 
 IRELAND—THE PRESENT AND FUTURE. 
 
 Seventeen more arrests have been made in Ire- 
 land, seventeen more living witnesses against Eng- 
 land's dtmiinatiou in that ill-governed land, and it 
 may be, ere long, seventeen more martyrs, who will 
 seal with their young blood Ireland's love for free- 
 dom ; and shall not that love or that blood ascend 
 np before God's throne as incense which shall till 
 the vial of his wrath, who said, 'Vengeance is mine, 
 and I will repay !' ? Are not the orphan and the 
 widow his especial care ? and are not these young 
 men the orphans England's tyranny has made ? the 
 vines which sprung from the famine pits of Skib- 
 berecn and Skull ? They are, at least, the legiti- 
 mate fruits of British wrong, as are the Sepoys in 
 arms in India ; and they must be as summarily dis- 
 posed of. A commission is ordered— that is, proper- 
 ly speaking, a drum-head court martial, where the 
 accused, instead of a trial, shall be permitted to 
 hear the sentence pronounced, which will probably 
 be recommended by some such Orangeman as Earl 
 Kodan, who, when threa parts drunk at a club 
 room, invoked the spirit of William of Orange, by 
 tinging — 
 
 *Kise, sons of William rise! 
 
 Nassau hails you from tbe skies; 
 
 Wliy «Iose your slumbering eyes 
 
 While treason stahcs around." 
 
 1 ho last arrests took place in Belfast, the capital of 
 the north, the head and front of Protestant Ulster, 
 t^kibbereen may have been lulled by a few trans- 
 jiortations j a few immolations there would not be 
 noticed; but in Belfast, the seat of English ascen- 
 dency, where are the worshippers of English rule, 
 and the lovers of English bayonets and govern- 
 ment, these arrests are ominous, hopeful, truly in- 
 spiring. When Ulster wakes up, there is hope for 
 ) rcland,for we do not hesitate to say that Ulster could 
 not only inspire all Ireland, but could make Ireland 
 free. Shades of William Orr, of Tone, of I'orter, 
 and of Emmett, drop the mantle of your Protestant 
 love for Ireland upon Protestant Ulster, crush the 
 foul spirit of Orangeism, and spread in its place a 
 brotherly love, a love for fatherland and for nation- 
 ality, so the day may soon come when, instead of 
 your sons being decimated in twos or tens, all Ire- 
 land shall arise Phoenix-like from her slumbers, and 
 declare themselves FUEE;,if;N, free from England's 
 rule and the damning influence of party spirit. 
 
 Tliere is something aboutthe arrest of these young 
 men indicative of a lower degree of depravity, if 
 possible, than murdering by famine. The cruelty 
 to which these respectable young men are subjected 
 — ('enied counsel, change of linen, and forced to 
 bear every indigi.ity, which marks it as malignity 
 — i« sufHeient to make even the lying Times blush. 
 Now, what would seem to be the proofs ? Simply 
 that the British government sent spies and blood- 
 thirsty informers among the young men to initiate 
 them into some secret pledge or promise that they 
 love Ireland and still hate the old tyrant. Eng- 
 land knows that patrioiism and love for father- 
 land are indigenous of the race as well as to the 
 soil. 
 
 Now that she thinks the Sepoys nearly used up 
 in India, »he remembers how the men of Ireland re- 
 fused to enlist for the Crimea, and how some of the 
 liiih journals hoped they would not, and she is re- 
 Bolvod to reap a crop of boy patriots, fearing Jest 
 they should grow to manhood. This i.<i the position 
 of tha great civilizer and promoter of Christianity. 
 She slays East Indians by the thousand, then, in 
 the same market-place, proclaims her paternal gov- 
 
 ernment and her benign intentions ; that if they 
 give up all hope of nationality, and become abject 
 slaves, she will rob and crush them herself instead 
 of allowing the East India Company so to do. 
 
 As regards Ireland, England now finds herself 
 mistaken ; she thought she had buried Irish rebel- | 
 lion ; but no ! it springs up from the blood of 
 martyrs, and calls aloud for vengeance, and even 
 the young men seem ready, although — 
 
 ' 'TiilrenFOn to love her, and death to defend.' 
 
 While we write, England trembles for the safety 
 of her power. The growing resources and impor- 
 tance of Ireland are being developed despite her, as 
 will be seen by a letter copied from the Boston 
 Post, whi'-h we publish elsewhere. The Galway 
 steamer Pacific made a^good winter passage from 
 St. John's to Galway in'live days and sixteen hours. 
 This is the finger of destiny, a hand writing on the 
 wall, which makes Norman Belshazzars of Britain 
 turn pale and tremble. The Galway link is want- 
 ing in a chain which is destined to encircle the 
 globe. Boston moves, Belfast moves, the world's 
 commercial interests demand it, and British power, 
 intrigue, and deception, cannot keep it back, 
 
 for— 
 
 ' Westward the star of empire takes its way ' 
 
 Eear not, for as sure as to-morrow's sun shallrise, 
 Ireland will be the seat of empire yet. 
 
 Where can you go that the American does not 
 boast of his free and glorious republic, her bound- 
 less praries, her mighty rivers, her extended free- 
 dom, her New Orleans and her Bunker Hill? Who 
 questions his veneration for the ever living memory 
 of the Father of his Country ? No one thinks it 
 wrong — neither is it wrong; success alone stamps 
 it with the greater eclat. Is it wrong, then, for the 
 Irishman to hope for freedom, and love a land that 
 has struggled seven hundred years for that freedom ? 
 No, by no means. But England has made it a 
 crime. 
 
 The home of the Irishman is like his religion — 
 the one is sacred to him by its age and universality 
 — it is his by birth, by persecution, and by convic- 
 tion. His home is associated with early love and 
 tender ties of affection ; its traditions and legends 
 have hallowed it in his memory ; its antiquated and 
 venerated piles carry him back to days of chivalry 
 and of fame ; old customs cling round his heart, 
 and he therefore cleaves to the hearthstone of in- 
 fancy as well as the graves of an ancestry which 
 can be counted by hundreds' of generations. We 
 have a living faith for Ireland's future ; politically, 
 locally and geographically she will be known; 
 politically, socially and religiously she must be 
 free ! 
 
 THE WAR IN INDIA. 
 
 Just one year ago a hypoe'itieal groan was as- 
 cending to heaven — a wliole nation was prostrated, 
 hungry and prayerful before the Lord. England 
 was observing a day of fasting and prayer, because 
 she thought she had not acted in India as she should 
 have done. She had not been as anxious to dis- 
 seminate the gospel among the idolators as she 
 should have been, and so the whole nation was duly 
 penitent. But what a wonderful change has come 
 over the spirit of England as regards these same 
 idolaters that she was so anxious to bring to the 
 Lord last year. The Queen's proclamation, in 
 which she assumes the title of * Defender of the 
 Faith,' makes known that, under penalty of incur- 
 ring her sovereign displeasure, none shall interfere 
 with the religious ideas of the Mussulmans or idol- 
 atrous Indians, and that no one shall undertake 
 their conversion. All who are aware of the abomi- 
 nations of the Indian worship will wonder at this 
 portion of the proclamation; and, one thing is most 
 curtain, such a repudiation of what was considered 
 a stringent duty, is to be attributed but to a sense 
 of weakness and the want of power to carry out 
 former policy. In fact, the Indian war is not now, 
 nor is it likely soon to be, as some of the London 
 journals say, at an end, and the rule of England in 
 India must every day become more and more pre- 
 carious. The fearful stories of mutilation and butch- 
 ery are being refuted on all sides, and we are forced 
 to see that a bad policy was pursued by the English 
 journals in giving such publicity to these horrid de- 
 tails. It was to beget beforehand the sympathies 
 of the world, so that their wholesale executions, by 
 which they hoped to strike terror into the hearts of 
 the natives, might seem excusable in the eyes of 
 other nations. But how does the matter stand 
 now ? They killed hundreds on all sides, indis- 
 criminately ; shot them from the mouths of cannon, 
 hung them, drowned them, and, in fact, betrayed 
 the utmost barbarity in their executions, and all on 
 account of the previous mutilations and butcheries 
 of women and children by the Indians ; and now 
 we are assured by Englishmen themselves that thes« 
 horrors did not take place, and that in the haste of 
 the reprisals many of the innocent suffered as well 
 as the guilty. We are asked to believe that the war 
 is at an end ; but this we cannot do, so long as we 
 know that many thousands of the rebels are still 
 united, armed and ready to light, when they have 
 wearied out their pursuers with forced marches 
 through swamps and rice fields. Who, that loves 
 justice, will not rejoice at this discomfiture of ' per- 
 fidous Albion ?' 
 
 Mr. Barry Sullivax, one of the best tragedians 
 of the day, ia now filling an engagement at the Bos- 
 ton Museum, where he attracts large audiences and 
 elicits universal praise. It is curious to note how 
 ready the newspapers are to denominate this gen- 
 tleman ' an English actor." Thus has it long been. 
 Wherever excellence exhibits iiself, it is sure to be 
 seized on by England and the toadeatcrs for her 
 elsewhere, who are certain always to brand as Irish 
 whatever tends to lessen the roputaiion of the na- 
 tives of that long-wronged country. Heading lately 
 the autobiography of that great German poet, 
 Goethe, we were amused by his frequent reference 
 to Dr. (ioldsmith as an Englishman, and nearer 
 home, we frequently see Dr. McKenzie set down in 
 the same category — those only whose nationality is 
 too well known not to admit of doubt being sufl'cr- 
 ed to occupy their rightful positions. Now, inas- 
 much as the term ' Irish ' is, in our community es- 
 pecially, a stigma, we protest against this wholesale 
 appropriation of all the goodness — nay, as Irish- 
 men, we contemn, loathe, abhor, detest this p.inder- 
 ing to a vitiated taste. Call us Americans, French- 
 men, Spaniard!, anything; but, under existing cir- 
 cumstances, Jehnny Bulls never ! never ! 
 
 The Birthday of the great Scottish poet is to be 
 celebrated on the 25th instant by the Burns Club of 
 Boston. The Hon. Edward Everett, Professor 
 Longfellow, Hon. Geo. S. Ililliard, Halph Waldo 
 Emerson, Hon. 11. C. ^\'inthrop, Gov. Banks, Hon. 
 Josiah Quincy, J. G. Whittier, and Prescott, the 
 historian, with others, are to be present, and to 
 speak on the occasion. Mr. Everett is to respond 
 to the toast to the ' ilemory of Burns.' Here will 
 be a treat indeed, the only drawback thereto being 
 the high price of tickets — $G. To obviate, this dif- 
 ficulty, however, an independent celebration will 
 likewise occur on the same evening in some one of 
 our hotels. 
 
 T. F. MiAGiiEH. — We understand that this dis- 
 tinguished gentleman left New York on Saturday 
 last for the purpose of fulfilling a series of lecture 
 engagements in the Southern States. His first lec- 
 ture will be in Charlestown, S. C, after which he 
 lectures in Columbia, in Savannah, Macon, Mobile, 
 &c. He will ri turn in the month of March, and 
 lecture in this city on one of the most popular and 
 interesting subjects on which he has yet addressed 
 la audience in this country. 
 
392 
 
 IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 (Written for the MIsoelUny.] 
 
 A DVINQ CIRL'S WISH. 
 
 DY GERALDINE. 
 
 An old woman, npparcnily ubout sixty, sat on a box 
 on ilie dock bilbro the stonmer left. I stood close to 
 her, and saw her open « piece of paper, then s-.ooping 
 down, fill It with dust, and carefully put it in her I 
 bosom. I WHS ciirioU'< to know why she did it, and 
 asked her, when she told me that her daughter, who 
 was sick in Amerioa, requested her to bring out some 
 Irish earth, to bo placed ia her coffin when she died. — 
 [Notes from n Jourmtl. 
 
 Mother, dear, I fcnrl'm dying, 
 
 And that noon I'll be do inoro; 
 Wilt thou come aud .see thy Mary, 
 
 K'cr CD earth her lilb ii o'er ' 
 
 A mother's baud Is always sanc^t 
 >Vben waiting on her ailiug child; 
 
 AllUougb there are kind friends around me, 
 None, like you, with words so mild. 
 
 I know it's hard to leave behind you 
 
 The relies of our happier days, 
 To come across the w ide, wide ocean, 
 
 To a foreign laud, 'mong foreign ways. 
 
 But 'tis a laud of wealth and plenty. 
 They need not starve who wish to toil — 
 
 It's people bid a hearty welcome 
 To those who come from Erin's soil. 
 
 1 bave a wish — perl>app a strange one — 
 
 It's all 1 ask, my mot .er dear — 
 A little earth from poor old Ireland, 
 
 And bring it to your Mary here. 
 
 I may be dead before you reach me; 
 
 If so, then place it on your breast; 
 If alive, I'll take it with me, 
 
 Por our islaud's dust is blest. 
 
 Then, mother dear, come see your Mary, 
 
 And bless her e'er the bids good-bye 
 To earth— do not forget her asking, 
 And she will watch you from on hifh. 
 Lowell, Mass., 1858. 
 
 Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1858, by 
 Thomas U'^'eill, in the District Court of Massachusetts. 
 
 REMINISCENCES IN THE 
 
 — IN THE — 
 
 ENGLISH AND AMEKICAN SERYICES. 
 BY THOMAS O'NEILL. 
 
 DEDICATED TO GENEK.\L JA.MES SHIELD. S. 
 
 NEAR SEEING A GHOST. 
 
 In the year 183-,thc regiment to which I belong- 
 ed lay in Newbridge, county Xildare, and as the 
 position of the barracks at this town ■will have 
 a good deal to do with the story to which I am 
 about to relate, it may be as well at the outset to 
 give a brief sketch of it. 
 
 It is the largest barracks in Irelond, or perhaps 
 in the Briti.-ih dominions. It was built for the re- 
 ception of troops returning from the French wars, 
 but was never wholly occupied.. It stands upon 
 thirty-seven acres of land, and forms nearly a 
 square— one side fronting the small town and mak- 
 ing one side of the street ; another side faces the 
 river Liffey, another towards the Curragh of 
 Kildarc, and the fourth towards Kilcullen or the 
 country. 
 
 In the angle formed by the Curragh and Kilcul- 
 len sides, stands the hospital, from which runs a high 
 ■wall till it meets the riding school, behind which, 
 and bounded by the outer wall, is the ' Mange." 
 This is a piece of ground containing about two 
 acres, and is used for training young horses. Fre- 
 quently after riding school they are turned into this 
 mange, there to perform without a wall what they 
 arc being taught in the school. The interior exhi- 
 bits nothing remarkable, is full of rank woods, ex- 
 
 cept where the horses have cut out the usual riding 
 school form ; and here and there a nameless mound 
 raised by the hands of comrades to some broken 
 spirited soldier, who, rather than brook the petty 
 tyranny of some worthless scion of the aristocracy, 
 prefered to blow out his brains. Here, in this un- 
 hallowed spot, were laid the remains of some twenty 
 suicides — a pistol ball — a mock inquest — verdict 
 ' felo de se ' — then a white coffin bourne on the 
 shoulders of four troopers in any or every variety 
 of dress — no funeral train, no mourning horse, no 
 solemn march, no shot to note the obsequies of a 
 soldier. Duty takes its usual course, and not a 
 ripple is left upon the surface of the society in which 
 the unfortunate moved. 
 
 The morning of the Sabbath of broke bright 
 
 and beautiful as wc prepared for church parade. 
 The trumpets sounded ; the regiment turned out 
 more ready for fighting than praying. We marched 
 to the riding school, where, from drumhead, we 
 heard the usual forms gone through as in church of 
 England service, except not being in extenso. The 
 parson closed his little book, when the well-known 
 ' Attention ' rang out from the old colonel and the 
 words ' Kegiment to troop parade.' Having march- 
 ed out, each troop took tlie direction to their own 
 rooms, the band formed in the cavalry square, 
 sending forth their clarion notes far up and down 
 the tumbling Liffey. The ■word ' break,' given as 
 we got to the foot of the stairs, was the signal for 
 the customary bustle and babel-like confusion, each 
 soldier shouting and striving who could first divest 
 himself of sword, slings, busby, stock, ftc. 
 
 When about the time ■\ve of the upper rooms 
 reached our bedsides, the report of a pistol was 
 heard in one of the sergeant's rooms, and now the 
 confusion became greater than ever. Immediately, 
 on opening the door, it was announced that old 
 
 M had shot himself. 
 
 Now old M , as he was famili:irly called, ■H'as 
 
 trumpet major. He was an old soldier, having been 
 in the service thirty-eight years; l.ad been a ser- 
 geant at Waterloo, and was entitkd to a good pen- 
 sion ; he might have been discharged some years 
 before had he desired it ; but he had been a soldier 
 from boyhood, and knew nothing of the life of a 
 civilian, nor did he wish to learn. 
 
 It had been announced to him that he was about 
 to be discharged. He had written to his wife, who 
 kept a milliner's shop in Nottingham, England, 
 from whom it appears he received no warmth of 
 welcome to encourage his return. They had been 
 estranged for some years, and neither possessed an 
 overstock of affection. This coldness on his wife's 
 part ■n'as more than the old man could bear, and he 
 resolved to end a life considered of no more service 
 to his family or country. He got leave from church 
 parade on thatmorning,chatted lightly and familiar- 
 ly with the women in the rooms while the men 
 were at riding school, shook hands with one or two, 
 and said he was going home. He deliberately ar- 
 ranged his bed, folded his cloak to raise his head, 
 then placed his hoi-se blanket in sixteen folds be- 
 tween him and the bedhead, and continued walking 
 calmly back and forth to the adjoining rooms until 
 the band had ceased to play ; then, as the soldiers 
 were heard ascending the stairs, he laid down, ar- 
 ranged himself on the bed, placing the muzzle of a 
 horse-pistol in his mouth, and blew the roof of his 
 head completely off. The ball was found in the 
 centre of the horse-blanket. 
 
 Next day there was an inquest, the usual verdict 
 — four trumpeters consigned the body to the 
 ' mange,' and, save the usual regrets, all was over 
 ■n'ith the old major. 
 
 At the time of the incident of which I write,I was 
 but a young soldier, and it so happenend that I was 
 for guard on the Monday following. During the 
 whole of that forenoon the old soldiers declared if 
 they knew old M he would come and sound 
 
 stables ' that night. 1, of course, joined in the 
 joking, but still would fnin have any other post as- 
 signed me than the hospital, which by chance might 
 full to my lot. 
 
 Now,it will be remembered that the hospital ad- 
 joined the ' mange,' and was at the back of the 
 stables, and away from all and evcryjbuslle.^ Three 
 o'clock in the afternoon arrived ; up to that time 
 all the ghost stories that could be thought of or 
 invented were kept going, while I, philosopher like, 
 would relate some singular event or adventure from 
 the 'Subaltern' or some other such work, simply to 
 show that I was proof against their endeavors to 
 frighten me. 
 
 The guard mounted numbering from the left, and 
 I was second sentry, mounting from five o'clock 
 until seven, and from eleven until one, and on the 
 hospital post too. My first two hours passed with- 
 out any particular accident occurring, with the ex- 
 ception of the jeers about the old man's coming to 
 blow ' stables ' at midnight. My second post ■was 
 from eleven o'clock, and scarcely was I posted when 
 the dying footsteps of the ' relief who had left rac 
 seemed to say, 'You are now alone with the old 
 trumpeter.' 
 
 It ■was a beautiful midsummer's night ; the moon 
 at her full, with not a cloud to mar her noble voy- 
 age through the high arch of heaven. Every ob- 
 ject seemed to partake of her silvery and mellowed 
 light ; not a breath of air stirring, not a sound to 
 be heard, save, occasionally, the kicking of a horse 
 in the distant stables. Alone, with my thoughts, I 
 could scarcely take away my eyes from the 'mange' 
 wall. In spite of myself, I felt that my imagina- 
 tion ■was obtaining the ascendant. In vain did I 
 invoke common sense to my aid. I tried to ■«-hibtle 
 and feel brave ; it was a time which tried my phil- 
 osophy. My walks to and from the wall were short, 
 and many times I found myself standing in front of 
 it. It drew near twelve o'clock (the hour when 
 ghosts to men appear), and if the old man was going 
 to come I must soon see him. 
 
 It was while immersed in one of these reveries, 
 and pacing the wall at the dread hour of midnight, 
 when everything seemed touched by the finger of 
 death, I fancied that I heard a noise at the other 
 side of the • mange' ■wall. 1 listened ; I ■was not 
 mistaken; the noise continued ; I saw a hand touch 
 the top. Header, it is now twenty years since the 
 events of that night, and I have never been able to 
 paint my feelings at that moment, and never have! 
 told the story but something of the same sensation 
 I felt that night creeps over inc. I stood rivetted to 
 the spot ; my hair became stiff, and stood on end, 
 lifting my cap up, as I thought, some twelve inches 
 or more, each individual hair conveying a peculiar 
 sensation either to or from the brain ; my tongue 
 seemed to have deserted my mouth and taken refuge 
 down my throat ; I became stiff and motionless as 
 a statue, no cold sweat, for there seemed to be no 
 moisture left in me ; I was a mere mute, a rigid fix- 
 ture. 
 
 During this time the old man kept working to 
 get his breast upon the wall, which, when he had 
 accomplished, he looked straight at me. I do not 
 know how long our mutual gaze continued, perhaps 
 not so long as I have taken to relate it, but stiU the 
 impression upon my mind was that it continued a 
 long time. At length the old man spoke, and the 
 moment the sound of the voice reached my ear, the 
 spell was broken. That voice was magical ; yes, 
 and no human voice ever sounded so musical in my 
 ear ; the pillars on my head relaxed ; my tongue 
 became loosened, and I was even angry with my- 
 self when the words — 
 
 ' Soldier, ■will you plaise give me some bundles of 
 straw r' told the nature of the ghost. 
 
 It had been a very scarce year for straw, and the 
 poor villagers frequently came to the back gate at 
 night, and the soldiers would give them of their 
 
IRISH MISCEILLANY. 
 
 368 
 
 abuiiclaiice, for the Hritish soldiers have hearts j i Florentine churches. This may be designated as I His text was taken from the 17th chapter of the Gos- 
 
 they knew how badly the poor people's cnttle need- 
 ed it. Msrk, soldier's horses are better fed, better 
 bedded, and butter cured for than the Irisli 
 peasant. 
 
 I made the old man come over and throw some 
 bundles to the other side, then detained him till the 
 ' relief came, to show the men how near the old 
 trumpeter I was. 
 
 1 need scarcely add that my adventure of that 
 night has benefitted me through life, while all my 
 troopmates were satisfied that I was ghost proof. 
 
 Italian, rather than Gothic. It is, however, surmount- pel of St. Maihcw. His address, though extempore, 
 ud by a Gothic canopy of wood, claborataly carved in i was good, and every word was evidently weighed be- 
 tho highly decorative style of the thirteenth century, fore its utterance. lie showed conclusively from 
 Over each of the small altars on the right aud left of scripture and history that all the ancient heretics had 
 
 SPECIAL CORRESPONDENCE. 
 
 WATisiiiiURY, Conn., Jan. 6. 
 Mr. Editor — Having had occasion to visit the hand- 
 some town of Waterbury during the present week, I 
 received a true Irish ' eead mille faltha ' from your 
 many friends here. 
 
 I was, of course, shown the new church, which has 
 been recently erected in this place, and of which a 
 description has been given in some of the Catholic 
 journals; but, strange to say, none have done the sub- 
 ject that justice which it so richly deserves. It is de- 
 cidedly oue of the noblest specimens of architecture 
 that I have ever seen, aud eclipses everything of the 
 kind heretofore existing in the United States. 
 
 Too much cannot be said in praise of the faithful 
 priest and good people of this town. Though not 
 clothed in ' purple and tine linen,' they are in the pos- 
 session of one thing ncceseary — ' faith.' They have 
 raised a monument which does honor to their piety 
 and generosity, and shows their zeal for the glory of 
 God and good of religion. May they receive the re- 
 ward of the good and faithful servant. 
 
 I return my most sincere thanks to the Rev. Father 
 Hendriken for aid given me in getting a correct report 
 of the church and ceremonies of dedication, and to Mr. 
 T. Maher for facilities afforded while examining the 
 interior of the building. I subjoin for the benefit of 
 your readers the following truthful description of the 
 building, with the ceremonies of dedication : — ' 
 
 On Sunday, 19th ult., the church was solemnly 
 dedicated to Almighty God by the Right Rev. Bishop 
 McFarland, of Hartford, with all the pomp and cere- 
 mony belonging to the Roman Catholic Church, under 
 the patronage of the Blessed Virgin Mary, and is 
 called 'the Church of the Immaculate Conception.' 
 An immense congregation was present, rated as high 
 as 2500. 
 
 The walls of the edifice are of brick, substantially 
 and skillfully built, the roof of slate covering, present- 
 ing the following dimensions: — Extreme length, 162 
 feet ; extreme breadth, 65 feet ; interior height, 60 
 feet ; height of spire, 200 feet. The architecture is 
 purely Gothic, and, in general effect, not unlike that 
 of the twelfth century. As an illustration of the style 
 of that period it is good, and carried out with more 
 fidelity to the style of a given period than usual in our 
 American churches. Although the exterior view of 
 the entrances carry the mind to the thirteenth century, 
 50 in the interior there is in portions of it a certain 
 elaborateness in the ornamentation which belongs to a 
 later period, particularly in the florid capitals of the 
 cluster columns which divide the nave from the aisles. 
 From a point of view near the main entrance, the 
 general effect of the interior is grand, and may ever be 
 said to approach the suhlime. The termination of the 
 arches which span the nave is sixty feet above the 
 floor. 
 
 The effect of the apsis is particularly fine, as seen 
 through the lofty columns. This portion of the edifice 
 is adorned with three elevated windows of stained 
 glass, representing the Saviour in the centre, with the 
 Blessed Virgin and St. Joseph on either side. The 
 coloring of the glass is particularly good ; the artist 
 exhibits in them a leaning towards the pre-Raphaclite 
 school of art. 
 
 The high altar is an imitation of Florentine mosaic, 
 and in its detail, as well as general effect, much re- 
 sembles some of the ancient altars of the Roman and 
 
 the high one are figures on stained glass. 
 
 The ceiling and dome of the apsis are fiUcd with 
 monograms representing the instruments of the Pas- 
 sion of Christ, and other appropriate symbols of the 
 church. The base of the canopy is supported by Gre- 
 cian pillars, and the centre bears a lamb with a flag, 
 representing the Lamb of God triumphing over the 
 enemies of his kingdom. 
 
 Leaving the floor, and surveying the span of the 
 vaulted roof, the eye is greeted with a combination of 
 grandeur. The figures of the twelve Apostles, 
 which stand between the pillars and arches, and the 
 angles that terminate them, are the work of Mr. Mil- 
 ler of Munich, a well-known artist. The ornamental 
 plasterwork, which adds not a little to the general ef- 
 fect, is by Mr. Foley of New York city. The ground 
 floor of the church has a central and two side aisles, 
 and is divided into slips, as is the galleries on the 
 sides, all of which will seat two thousand persons. 
 
 The organ intended for the church is now building, 
 and will be of the largest size. A temporary instru- 
 ment is at present used. 
 
 It Is a grand sight to see this building lighted up, as 
 it exhibits a perfect blaze of light, being illuminated 
 by three hundred and fifty jets of gas light. I hope 
 you will ere long give an illustration of this splendid 
 edifice. 
 
 THE DEDICATION, &C. 
 
 The ceremonies commenced about nine o'clock, A. 
 M. The clergy present were the Right Rev. Bishop 
 McFarland of Hartford, Right Rev. Bishop Laughlin 
 of Brooklyn, Rev. Mr. Hendriken, pastor. Rev. Mr. . 
 O'Reily, assistant pastor, Rev. Messrs. Hughes of 
 Hartford, Delany of Pawtucket, R. I., Lynch of Mid- 
 dletown. Conn., Lynch of Birmingham, Conn., Daley 
 of New Britain, Conn., Quinn of Meridan, Conn., 
 Regnier, S. J., of Fordham, N,Y., McCallion of Camil- 
 hus, N. Y. 
 
 The altar was consecrated by Bishop McFarland, 
 after which he proceeded to the solemn dedication of 
 the church. 
 
 High Mass was celebrated by Bishop Laughlin, as- 
 sisted by the Rev. Messrs. Hughes and Delany as 
 deacon and sub-deacons, Rev. James Lynch as master 
 of ceremonies, Rev. Messrs. Regnier, S. J., and Lynch 
 as deacons of honor, and Rev. Tbomas Quinn as thu- 
 rifier. 
 
 After the gospel. Bishop McFarland ascended the 
 pulpit, and preached a most eloquent sermon, taking 
 for his text the last three verses of the 2sth chapter of 
 St. Mathew. The speaker, who spoke fluently, with- 
 out notes, dwelt upon the unity of the church as well 
 as its antiquity, and shewed conclusively that it never 
 changed. He also showed that outside of the Catholic 
 church there is no unity. Is it among the Methodists, 
 asked the Bishep, you should look for unity, split up 
 as they are, and divided into Methodist church North 
 and Methodist church South, Methodist and Episco- 
 pal Methodist ? Is it among the Baptists, with their 
 Close Communion Baptists, Free Will Baptists, Ana- 
 Bapiists, Seven Day Baptists, Open Communion, &c'! 
 Is it among the Presbyterians? — you have the Old 
 School, the New School, Assoeiute, German Reform- 
 ed, Dutch Reformed, Congregationalists, and Sece- 
 ders. So it is with the Episcopalians, the most res- 
 pectable of them. In England' they recognize the 
 Queen as the head of the church. In this country they 
 reject her. Amongst them, there is the Pusoyite, who 
 believes in the real presence in confession, and other 
 practices ; they have their High Churchmeu and Low 
 Churchmen. 
 
 All who had the good fortune to hear the sermon 
 acknowledge that it was a masterpiece of eloquence 
 and solid reasoning. 
 
 In the evening the church was filled to its utmost 
 capacity at an early hour for vespers. The sermon 
 was preached by the Right Rev. Bishop Laughlin. 
 
 hi one way or the other denied the Divinity of the Son 
 of God. His sermon was listened to with the greatest , 
 attention. There were several Protestadts present. 
 After Bishop Laughlin's sermon. Bishop McFarland 
 addressed the congregation, congratulating them on 
 the successful completion of their splendid church, and 
 at the same time paid a deserved compliment to the 
 zeal of their pastor. He thanked them for their ef- 
 forts, and expressed his gratitude for the assistance re- 
 ceived from those outside the pale of the church. 
 
 Thus ended a day which the Catholics of Waterbury 
 will not soon forget. I must not forget to mention 
 that the singing was excellent, and it is but just to say 
 was artistically and effectively rendered by a select 
 choir from New York. Mr. Mellville, who presided at 
 the organ, proved himself to be a perfect master of the 
 instrument. 
 
 The design of the building is by Mr. P. Keels of 
 Brooklyn. J, S. 
 
 ANOTHER VERSION OF THE HICKORY STICK. 
 
 We take the following version of ' That Yankee 
 Shillaly ' from the Galway Vindicator. It appeared 
 originally in the Boston Pilot, and was written by our 
 old friend and contributor, 'Darby MeKeon,' who on 
 this occasion appeared as ' Peter Grotty ' ; — 
 
 Muslia, Mick, did you hearof that Yankee gliillaly, 
 That ' Con of tfie Battles ' sent good Fatlier Daly ? 
 Clug arounds, man ! it's made of such illigaut stuiT— 
 A hickory cudgel, loug, heavy and tough. 
 
 On the wide plains of Oarmel this 'crushin'* itgrew. 
 Where Jackson the Sa.xon's proud hosts did subdue; 
 Where PackGiibam's cut-throats in vain did assail — 
 It was pulled from the root by bowld Sargaint O'Neill. 
 
 "When fast in the gripe of the ' Soggarth aroon,' 
 Twill wallopthe de'il out of any bosthoon 
 That dares to provoke him wid impudent jibes, 
 Or stop his progress in the City of Tribes. 
 
 St. Patrick a staff from the heavens he got, 
 On his mission ol bliss to that holy owld spot ; 
 He tumbled their altarsf, their priests did disband, 
 And drove out the snakes wid a stick in his hand. 
 
 Ever since there is pith in the comical twist 
 
 Of an iron-bound sprig in an Irishman's fist; 
 
 Full many a taste of its virtues we'^■e seen 
 
 When flooriug tithe proctors or guarding the Green. 
 
 TI. 
 By gorra, I swear 'tis a treas'nable trick 
 To trust over there that Republicau stick 
 In the hands of a I'riest— and the Emperor Xap 
 Expected some morning in on them to dropi 
 
 vii. 
 And the exiles all arc ready to moke a descent 
 On the land of their love with such peaceful intent ; 
 The Orange ' shoouens ' and fat persons will swear — 
 If they all die wid fright, Mick, the devil may carel 
 
 ♦An Irish term for staff. 
 IDruidic altars. 
 
 Tremendous Piles of Gsld. — The bullion in 
 the Bank of France now stand-i at about 5120,000,000, 
 a far higher sum than was ever held by that establish- 
 ment, and more than $0,000,000 in excess of the 
 largest total ever collected in the Bank of England. 
 At the commencement of the year 1858 the Bank of 
 France had less than 950,000,000, and the influx in 
 nine months has therefore been §70,000,000. At the 
 Bank of England the total at the beginning of the year 
 was S53,(I0U,000, and it is now more than $95,000,000. 
 The highest sum it ever possessed was $1 10,000,000, 
 in July, ISoi. 
 
S«4 
 
 IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 LETTER FROM IRELAND. 
 
 Corropondoucc ofllio Hufton I'uvt. 
 
 Di'ui.iN, Ihf.lahu, Drc. 17, 18.58. 
 Mr. John Orrcll LcTcr, who han been sending 
 Bteamcrs from Ualwny to America for six months, 
 has just sent in a tender for a mail eontract. That 
 tinder was for weekly service, alternating to Bos- 
 ton and New York, just as the Canard vessels do 
 now. If that contract is entered into you will have 
 weekly steamers to your port. What view the 
 admirality, the post oHicc and Her M.ijesty's minis- 
 ters may take of the matter it is impossible to say, 
 but strong hopes arc entertained that the eontract 
 will be made. If a contract is not made with this 
 government for increased trans-Atlantic service via 
 Oalway, and to Iloston as well as to Xew York, it 
 will not be Mr. Lever's fault. Mr. Lever says the 
 credit of first pointing out prominently, publicly 
 and forcibly the shortest route across the Atlantic, 
 between Galway, the most western port of Europe, 
 and the most eastern available port (Boston) in the 
 United States, is due to the Boston board of trade. 
 Of course the Boston Post and Jlr. C. C. C'ommu- 
 nipaw come in for a small share, a mere homaopa- 
 thic quantity of these honors ; inasmuch as the 
 board of trade publication referred to first appeared 
 in your columns, and from the pen of your corres- 
 pondent of the present writing. Mr, Lever is de- 
 ^irous of showing his appreciation of the public 
 spirit shown by the Boston merchants by having a 
 branch line of his Galway- American steamers go to 
 that port. This is his wish^and intention, and it 
 will only be thwarted by direction of either the Im- 
 perial or Canadian government, in sending the mails 
 to some other port. If 1 knew what action could 
 be taken by the Bostonians to bring about so de- 
 sirable a result, I should be most glad to do it, but 
 really the entire matter seems to be out of your 
 reach. 
 
 I have written a book of about 120 pages on the 
 subject of the shortest route to America from Gal- 
 way, Ireland ; but the largest portion of it is de- 
 voted to the commercial bearings of the subject, the 
 postal advantages of increased service, and the posi- 
 tion of the Atlantic Royal Mail Steam Navigation 
 Co., who have undertaken to carry out Mr. Lever's 
 great project. I have put in a word for cheap trans- 
 Atlantic postage, going in for a three penny rate 
 (six cents our money) between Great Britain and 
 the United States. Some copies of this work will 
 be sent to the New York and Boston editors. 
 
 Ireland is going to be regenerated by this steam 
 line; already are its effects apparent. The railways 
 carry goods for these steamers to and from Galway 
 at half the usual rates, and, week before last, there 
 were over GOO cases of goods in Belfast alone, for 
 the ' Circassian ' steamer which was to sail on the 
 9th. The freight on these goods would have 
 amounted to over one thousand pounds sterling 
 (.$.5000,) but the ' Circassian ' was withdrawn for 
 repairs, and the ' Pacific ' put on, which is too small 
 to carry freight. So all of these go'ods went, as 
 usual, by Liverpool. I do not think any one ever 
 dreamed of the large amount of direct trade, both 
 passengers and freight, that will be carried on be- 
 tween Ireland and America. I know this, that more 
 freight was offered than could be carried on almost 
 every vessel, particularly from this side ; and in a 
 majority of the trips, more passengers have offered 
 than could be taken. Some of the ships have not 
 been the best for the trade ; but that will not long 
 be the case. There are now building thr.ee iron 
 ' E.xpress Despatch .Steamers," with every appliance 
 for speed and comfort. They are to be paddle- 
 wheel steamers, and guaranteed to run twenty miles 
 an hour. 
 
 The ' Prince Albert ' has just arrived in five days 
 sixteen hours from land to land — St. Johns, N. i"., 
 to Galway — a w inter passage, bringing six days later 
 news, and, while I write, a few hours after her ar- 
 
 rival, the substance of the I'rcsidcnt's mcs.ingc is 
 going, literally, like lightening all over Europe. 
 The only link wanting in the telegraphic chain from 
 St. I'etersburg and New Orleans, between Constan- 
 tinople and Minnesota, is the one from (Jalway to 
 'Newfoundland, which it takes live days and a few 
 hours to fill up by ,the steamers of the Lever 
 line. 
 
 It is now about ten years since my first visit to 
 Ireland, and I find considerable change in the 
 country, the business and the people. Railroads 
 have been greatly extended, manufactures ;havc in- 
 creased, intelligence has spread, and liberal politi- 
 cal sentiments have advanced. 
 
 In 1848, when a railway train stopped at a sta- 
 tion, all was dull and silent, a lew beggars came 
 about and asked alms, and now and then a cart or 
 horse was seen. Now, at the arrival of the trains 
 at a station, well dressed people throng around, 
 beggars are not seen, and the portentious yell of the 
 newsboy shows that steam and cheap papers make 
 the whole world kin. ' Erc's the Ballyshallylima- 
 Tada Highflyer, and the Newlown Skibbareen 
 Lightningbug — only a penny." So you must not 
 think Ysukee land is the only country that has 
 sights and sounds like these. 
 
 The day is not far distant when there will be a 
 large and active direct trade between Ireland and 
 America. Already, almost one-half of the Irish 
 linen exports go to the United States. And there 
 are other fabrics made here, particularly the Irish 
 poplins, that, from their elegance, variety, beauty, 
 and durability, must become popular and largely 
 worn in America at no distant day. I shall take an 
 early opportunity '.o give you a full description of 
 these elegant fabrics. As there is a probability that 
 I shall be in Ireland several weeks, on a visit to 
 most every place of interest in the island, I will not 
 inflict you with a long letter at this time, but sub- 
 scribe myself, your old correspondent, 
 
 CoMMUNirAW. 
 
 FOREIGN INTELLIGENCE. 
 
 inELAND. 
 
 Arrests continued to be made at the latest accounts. 
 We take the following account of the arrests in Belfast 
 from the Northern Whij; ; — 
 
 'On Sunday evening, about five o'clock, the utmost 
 excitement was created in the neighborhood of Cor- 
 mac street and tlie adjoining districts, by the sudden 
 arrest of a number of persons believed by the author- 
 ities to belong to an illegal society. We liave learned 
 that on Friday last information was given to Mr. 
 Tracy, K. M., that an illegal body met every Sunday 
 night in the house of a Mrs. M'Kay, in Great Edward 
 street, and the informer, who, we have every reason to 
 believe, was himself a member of the body, went into 
 such particulars of the nature of the business carried 
 on as left no doubt as to the veracity of his statement. 
 Mr. Tracy took immediate steps to sift the matter. 
 Head constable Madders had only recently arrived in 
 town ; he was comparatively unknown in his personal 
 appearance to the public of Belfast, and Mr. Tracy, 
 therefore, selected that oQicer and a sub-constable of 
 equal sagacity and prudence to watch the premises of 
 Mrs. M'Kay througliout the whole of Sunday. In the 
 garb of ordinary citizens these two officers hovered 
 about the premises during the d.iy. As darkness set 
 in, they observeil parties of suspicious characters enter 
 the shop ; and their suspicion was further aroused by 
 the fact that these persons dia not leave the premises 
 after they had been supplied at the counter with what 
 they required, but passed up stairs. He.id constable 
 Madders at once, when some doien of this class of 
 persons had entered in this way, and had not made 
 their departure, found himselfon a reliable track. He 
 then despatched information to the Queen street sta- 
 tion, where the constabulary were held in readiness 
 for immediate action. Some sixty members of the 
 force, with side-arms, were at once turned out, and. 
 
 under suhinspector Bindcn and hcad-constabit Dc- 
 lany, were marched to Great Ivlward street. The 
 constabulary surrouded the premises of Mrs. M'Kay, 
 an entrance was effected, and in an upper room of the 
 house fifteen parties were arrested. The police, as wo 
 have said, had then only side-arms, and jierhaps fear- 
 ing that a rescue might take place, the majority of the 
 constabulary were ordered back to barracks for their 
 fire-arms. When they returned the prisoners were 
 brought out. There was then an immeaie crowd of 
 the residents of this usually quiet neighborhood as- 
 sembled, every one of whom was asking his neighbour 
 the occasion of this unusual proceeding. The fifteen 
 prisoners, in the midst of two files of police with fixed 
 bayonets, were taken to the police oflicc. Some time 
 elapsed before the arriv.il of Mr. Tracy. All ingress 
 was prohibited to the court, and an immense but a 
 very peaceable crowd had collected in the adjoining 
 locality. In the mean time, tlic informer had given 
 information against a sixteenth party, a person named 
 John Kelly, a lawyer's clerk, and lie was arrested 
 while in his bed, and taken also to the police oflicc. 
 
 The appearance of the prisoners, as thoy stood be- 
 fore the railing of the police oflice, was that of respect- 
 able artisans. Not one word escajied their lips from 
 the time they entered into the hands of the police un- 
 til they afterwards passed into the county jail. On 
 the arrival of Mr. Tjacy, the information against the 
 prisoners was privately perfected by that individual in 
 the prcssnce of Mr. Williams, county inspector. This 
 part of the proceeding! was carried on in an inner 
 apartment of the police office, and there was the ut- 
 most secrecy attached to it. The warrant for their 
 committal to the county jail was made out, and hand- 
 ed to head constable Madders. The police were then 
 ordered to fix bayonets, and shortly before seven 
 o'clock the prisoners were marched, handcufTed, to the 
 county jail. At this time large numbers of persons 
 were on their way to their respective places of worship, 
 and the appearance of this considerable police force, 
 with a body of prisoners in their midst, created some 
 excitement in the neighborhood of High street, 
 Bridge street and Donegal street. 
 
 On Saturday night the constabulary were most ac- 
 tive in their endeavors to make further arrests, and at 
 a late hour a person named James Hughes, of Smith 
 street, fowl dealer, was captured, on information sworn 
 against him. The most active members of the force 
 are silting every quarter of the town in the hope of 
 discovering other members of illegal societies. 
 
 We believe that the prisoners will undergo a private 
 examination in the jail, and some lime may elapse be- 
 fore any important details of this extraordinary case 
 may be publicly brought forward.' 
 
 Tlie same paper of the following day (Tuesday) 
 gives the following additional particulars : — 
 
 'All to-day Belfast was in a state of great excite- 
 ment over the arrests which had been made. In the 
 neighborhood of Cormac street, Veriicr street and • 
 Legan street, and, indeed, in every circle of town to- 
 day the subject of conversation was that of the arrests 
 of Sunday evening, and our reporters having visited 
 the particular localities, found that the heads of fami- 
 lies were in great distress in consequence of this very 
 unexpected and sudden movement on the part of the 
 authorities. We may now mention a very affecting 
 case in point, whicb came under our notice. The 
 three brothers Kelly have heretofore borne a very high 
 character. Two of them have held responsible situa 
 tions in town ; the third is a young man formerly en- 
 gaged in a lawyer's office, and who has latterly been 
 suffering under a consumptive disease. The lad, John 
 Kelly, was taken by the police from his bed on Sun- 
 day night to the police oflice and county jail, and, al- 
 though no one could suspect him of being engaged in 
 a political conspiracy in his present state, his health 
 has been endangered by the proceeding. Our report- 
 ers, in the course of their inquiries, have gleaned some 
 very important facts with regard to the arrests of Sun- 
 day night, and we may mention some circumstances 
 which have coosiderabic bearing upon the case. We 
 are told that Mrs. M'Kay's connection with the ar- 
 
IRlSn MISCELLANY. 
 
 365 
 
 losta is simply this; — Shortly after four o'clock,' on 
 Sunday evening, four men entered the shop of Mrs. 
 M'Kiiy, and meeting two other persons on the prem- 
 iues, these six passed up stairs, Shortly after- 
 wards, they called for four bottles of porter and 
 two bottle, of ginger ale. With this Mrs, M'Kny 
 supplied them. In a few minutes afterwards, three 
 other men entered, and inquired if ' Henry Smith ' 
 was there. The person in attendance said he was, 
 and they were shown up to the room where the 
 parties who had previously arrived had located 
 themselves. A few minutes having elapsed, three 
 other persons entered the shop, and they also 
 desired to know if ' Henry Smith ' was in the 
 liouse; and, although it appears that ■ Henry 
 Smith," by that name, was altogether unknown by 
 the landlady or by the servant, tlie inquirers were 
 sent up to the room in which this individual was 
 supposed to be. These persons enjoyed themselves 
 with the commodities which Mrs.,McKay's house 
 afforded for about half an hour. She states that she 
 had not previously known any of the parlies; that 
 they came into her house in the way of usual 
 persons seeking refreshments; that she had known 
 several of them individually, but that, as a body, 
 they had never previously met or assembled in her 
 premises. The only room vacant in the house was 
 that into which they were shown: and for some half 
 an hour after the party sat down there was not the 
 least appearance, either by the servant who waited 
 upon them, or by Mrs. M'Kay, of an illegal feeling 
 being manifested by the assembly. This was about 
 half-past five o'clock, and about a quarter to six 
 o'clock^ man named Cairns suddenly rushed down 
 stairs, and inquired what was the amount to be paid 
 for the refreshments which had been served up to 
 the parties above stairs ? Mrs. M'Kay stated the 
 amount of the account, upon which Cairns — who, 
 we understand, was formerly a sergeant m the 
 Monaghan militia, and who was latterly employed 
 as a clerk in town — proceeded to enact some tom- 
 fooleries, to the great amusement of Mrs. M'Kay 
 and her servant. But Mr. Cairns had hardly 
 finished his performance when a very different scene 
 was introduced. The house of Mrs. M'Kay was 
 then surrounded, the police entered, marched up 
 stairs, and, what is singular, went direct to the 
 very room in which the persons above-mentioned 
 were asssembled. Of course, they were all arrested. 
 But where was Mr. Cairns ? He had made his 
 escape by some means only known to himself, and, 
 it is stated, has not since been heard of. 
 
 Whatever took place at the county jail to-day 
 was strictly of a private character, and more than 
 the facts which we have now stated cannot be made 
 know to the public. The Police Court was crowded 
 yesterday in expectation of something definite being 
 known as to the extent of the guilt of the parties 
 arrested on Sunday evening, alleged to belong to 
 a secret society. At the sitting of the court, Mr. 
 John Ilea (who appeared for the accused) said — I 
 am retained litre on behalf of Henry Smith, and 
 fourteen other men, who are charged with belong- 
 ing to an Orange or some other illegal society. May 
 1 ask, will they be brought up this morning ? 
 
 Mr. Tracy — They will not. 
 
 Mr. Ilea — May I ask you when they will be pub- 
 licly tried, or what they are charged with i 
 
 Mr. Tracy — I cannot tell you at present when 
 \hey will be tried. 
 
 Mr. Ilea — I have been retained for them, and my 
 fee paid by their relatives, and I wish to know 
 whether my clerk can get into the jail to receive 
 their instructions ? 
 
 Mr. Tracy — No one can see thtni for the present. 
 
 Mr. Ilea — I suspect, then, there must be evidence 
 that warrants their being kept as prisoners, for no 
 one should be kept in custody a day without know- 
 ing what is against him — at all events, without get- 
 ting an opportunity of preparing his defence. I 
 
 would respectfully submit that they should be seen 
 nt one". Of course, if the government hiivo made 
 an order that that can't be banc 
 
 Mr. Tracy — Nobody knows what is against them 
 except myself. 
 
 Mr. Ilea — I think I will write to the Castle, and 
 see if their advocate cannot be admitted to see them, 
 or his clerk, to take ther instructions. I understand 
 that there is nothing against them but the mere 
 evidence of an informer, which goes for nothing, if 
 there is not corroborative evidence. 
 
 Mr. Tracy — When I say nobody knows what is 
 against them but myself, and those who have a 
 right to know, I don't mean to say that they don't 
 know themselves. So far as an approvers evidence 
 goes, you are quite right, but all that you have read 
 or seen is mere guess work. As I said before, no 
 one knows what is against them but those who have 
 as yet a right to know, 
 
 Mr. Rea — I am sure I would be glad that all 
 secret societies were put down — Orange and Rib- 
 bon alike — that the law would make an equal clear- 
 ance of both ; but I think a great deal of unneces- 
 sary fuss has been made about this. 
 
 Mr. Tracy — I have no desire to appear dramatic, 
 I assure you. 
 
 Mr. Rea — Its very curious that the prisoners can't 
 be seen. 
 
 Mr. Tracy — They cannot be seen by any one 
 until communication be made to the government. 
 
 Mr. Rea — The government should know that the 
 existence of the Orange society creates the other, 
 and when they are so vigilant in looking after the 
 one, they should look after the other with equal 
 zeal. I don't know what is against these parties, 
 but I suppose they are innocent. 
 
 Mr. Tracy — Perhaps they will find there is quite 
 enough against them, 
 
 Mr. Rea — in your communicatien with the gov- 
 ernment, will you state that the advocate for the 
 prisoners dssired to see them, and was refused ? 
 
 Mr. Tracy was understood to consent. 
 
 Arrests in Macroom. — On Friday the 10th a 
 party of fifteen of the Maeroom police, under Head 
 Constable Graham, escorted two prisoners to" the 
 county Cork gaol, one of whom was for robbery, 
 the other, William O'Shea, was charged with being 
 one of the members of an illegal society. He is 
 about twenty years of age, a cabinet maker, and is 
 from Bantry. He was arrested on Thursday night, 
 and brought before Mr. Davis, R. M., by whom he 
 was fully committed for trial. It is expected that 
 some of the other members of the gang will be ar- 
 rested in a few days. None of the prisoners lately 
 arrested at Bantry and Skibbereen, it is slated, deny 
 their participation in the illegal society; on the con- 
 trary, they boast of it. On being brought into the 
 gaol, where they were examined by the physician 
 of the establishment. Dr. Beamish, in the presence 
 of the governor, one of them became so violent that 
 the governor had to threaten to resort to severe 
 measures before he desisted. 
 
 The Cork Constitutien says : — It is understood 
 that other arrests will be made in the course of a 
 few days. A branch of the society is believed to be 
 in existence at Clonakilty, and the authorities are 
 procuring information relative to the members, with 
 the view of placing them under the survelliance of 
 the police. 
 
 The arrests have been made on the information of 
 a person named Sullivan from Kcnmare, son to a 
 person, it is stated, in W. S. Trench's employment, 
 and set specially to become a member of the society 
 to enable him to betray his associates. 
 
 AiiUKsTs AT KiLLAUNEY. — At Killamcy, on Sa- 
 turday, Dec. 11, Mr. Laurence O'SuUivan, assis- 
 tant to Mr. Richard Linnegan, apothecary, was ar- 
 rested on a warrant, charging him with being a 
 member of a secret society called the Phu^nix Club. 
 The arrest was made by Sub-Inspector Colomb, un- 
 
 accompanied by a single policeman, and without the 
 least noise or excitement. Mr. Colomb's conduct 
 on this occasion was characterized by his usual 
 courteous and gentlemanlike demeanor. At a sub- 
 sequent period of the night, the following arrests 
 were made : — Patrick Cronin, assistant to Mr. John 
 Martin, grocer; Daniel Murphy, assistant to Mrs. 
 C. Coghlan, grocer; Joseph Murphy, assistant to 
 Mr. William Lewis, 
 
 A correspondent of the Cork Examiner, writing 
 from Killarney on Sunday, says: — 
 
 It is said several other arrests will be made this 
 evening, in number about twelve — making sixteen 
 in all. The above are all about twenty years old. 
 As, no doubt, your Kenmare correspondent sent all 
 particulars of the persons arrested there, I may add 
 the prisoners were brought here yesterday about 
 three o'clocTi, p. m., drenched to the skin, it rain- 
 ing all the journey from Kenmare to Killarney; 
 after some delay they were again put on cars for 
 ■ftalee, and probably reached there about eight . 
 o'clock last night. So heavy a fall of rain as we 
 had yesterday and last night has not been witnessed 
 for a very long time. 
 
 Arrests in Kenmare. — We have, we regret to 
 say, just learned that several arrests have been 
 made in Kenmare, of parties sworn to be connected 
 with the secret society system of Skibbereen and 
 Bantry. We understand that a large party of police, 
 under the local Sub-Inspector, accompanied by the 
 newly appointed resident magistrate, Jlr. Bannon, 
 left Killarney for Kenmare yesterday, to assist in 
 escorting the prisoners into Tralee jail, where they 
 are expected to arrive either this evening or to-mor- 
 row. We have learned no particulars; nor has any 
 official report of the matter yet reached the autho- 
 rities here. — [Kerry Post. 
 
 On Friday morning nine arrests were made in 
 Kenmare on the charge of being connected with the 
 much talked of illegai society. All the parties are 
 young men. They are three assistants in the em- 
 ployment of Mr. Garrett Riordan, draper; Dennis 
 Shea, assistant, in the employment of Mr. Daniel 
 O'Brien Corkery, also a draper; Thomas Downing, 
 son to a- former confidential steward in the employ- 
 ment of Mr. Hickson, late agent of the Marquis of 
 Landsduwno, and four others. — [Cork Examiner. 
 
 Inhuman Treatment. — The friends of the per- 
 sons now in jail complain bitterly of their treatment, 
 both in the mode of their arrest and transit to 
 prison, and since they were given in charge to the 
 governor. Those taken in Skibbereen were, fortu- 
 nately for themselves, placed under the charge of 
 Sub-Inspector Potter, who, while discharging his 
 duty officially, behaved with courtesy and humani- 
 ty. The three men from Bantry were not as fortu- 
 nate. Though placed under an immense escort, 
 they were hand-cuiTed, sent to Baudon on an open 
 car, undtr the most terrific tempest of rain and 
 wind that has been seen this year. Their friends 
 sought to provide them with some refreshment pre- 
 vious to going away, but they would not be allowed 
 ■.0 accept of it, and some milk that was kindly 
 offered to them at a stoppage on the road was all 
 they were permitted to enjoy by the stern superin- 
 tendent of Bantry. Daniel Shea, a Bantry man, 
 arrived in Maeroom, received the same treatment. 
 Many of them still bear the marks of the handcuffs 
 upon their wrists. On their arrival in jail th'.'y 
 were all in garments dripping with wet, and though 
 in that condition, left four days without fire. 
 Though several of them had changes of clothes sent 
 in by their friends, they were not permitted to use 
 them. They complain in the bitterest manner of 
 the consequent cold and suffering they had to en- 
 dure. Sir Mathew Harrington, the Crown Solicitor, 
 arrived here on Monday, to conduct the proceeed- 
 ings relative to the recent arrests. — [Cork Ex- 
 aminer. 
 
36G 
 
 IRISH M1SCELLA.NY. 
 
 (From the Dublin Catholic Telegraph.) 
 
 LETTER FROM DR. OAHILL ON SECRET 
 
 SOCIETIES. 
 
 On this day week past, Wedncaday, the Sth inst., 
 I directed a public letter to certain classes of the 
 Irish people on the subject of secret societies. The 
 readers nf this paper cannot forget how I stated 
 ' that the moment I was writing my advice to the 
 
 for their prey ; and only want not o proof, but a 
 plausible appearance of guilt, on which to build 
 material for perjury, bribery, and the hangman's 
 rope. 
 
 Ireland has seldom presented a phase of more 
 bitter sectarian malice, or of more rapid political 
 persecution than at the present moment. The 
 Orange press of England and Ireland, the illiberal 
 
 dupes of these confederations, the names of the | orfe'""" >*1'''^>' represent a certain section of public 
 leaders, their parents' names, their residence, and i oP"'>on. •"';'^ "''^•<^''> '" ">>' remembrance, expressed 
 
 their silence in the presence of this grinding inflic- 
 tion ; and if they had the spirit of their enemies, or 
 the honor of their fathers, they should call a public 
 meeting, denouncing the assassins, sympathizing 
 with the victim, but protesting in the strongest lan- 
 guage consistent with the laws against the arbitrary 
 infliction, the repeated punishment poured out upon 
 a whole people, without the shadow of a proof of 
 even a suspicion of their direct or indirect guilt. 
 Cashel, Wednesday, Dec. 15. ]). W. C. 
 
 their character, wera in the hands of the Chief 
 Secretary at Dublin Castle; and again, that their 
 own companions would be the tirst (as has ever been 
 the case in Ireland) to give information to the gov- 
 ernment, tl)e first to receive the blood money, so 
 well known in this country, and the first to swear 
 oway the lives of their associates." Sly letter was 
 written in this town on Wednesday, and on Thurs- 
 day evening not less than eighteen persons were 
 arrested in the County Cork, on the evidence of 
 Sullivan, the informer, one of their own body. 
 When this man will have prosecuted these unfortu- 
 nate young men, he will have received the sum of 
 at lea-.t nine hundred pounds in this traflic of human 
 blood. 
 
 The French press has often rallied the English 
 legislature on the iniquity of two of their social 
 moral laws, viz : — firstly, the indescribable baseness 
 of a cuckold husband being paid in cash for the se- 
 duction of his wife : and secondly, the unutterable 
 horror of rewarding perhaps perjury, in paying a 
 public inforfncr for betraying, transporling, or hang- 
 ing the confederated companions of his infamy. 
 The French say, that the man who can receive 
 money for the prostitution of his wife, is a ' man- 
 prostitute ' of the very lowest type of brutal degra- 
 dation; and again, that the wretch who can swear 
 against the laws of his country and his sovereign in 
 illegal secret combination, and then redouble his 
 infamy by taking a bribe to screen himself from 
 punishment, and to betray his associates to perma- 
 nent servitude or death, is a monster whose com- 
 pound character may be expressed in the crimes of 
 treason, perjury, and murder. And hence that the 
 laws which pay a base husband in a public market 
 for the virtue of his wife ; and again, which rewards 
 a dubious, or a perjured approver for becoming the 
 assassin of his corporate infamous society, are a 
 blot on the religion of England, and a criminal dis- 
 grace to their common law. The case of the Cor- 
 macks, who are now universally believed to be in- 
 nocent, and the statement made by Sir Robert Peel, 
 of the murder perpetrated near Clonmel, are two 
 instances, which will long appear before Irish socie- 
 ty, of the danger and the crime of rewarding an 
 informer, for selling the blood of his neighbors. 
 The French punish ' the seducer ' with a propor- 
 tioned rigid imprisonment and hard labor in the 
 galleys; and they discover the rebel, the confeder- 
 ate in treason, and the murderer, as best they can, 
 through the information of their watchful police. 
 
 I have reason to believe that at the present time 
 the infamous olTspring ol Paddy SI Kew are going 
 through Ireland, frequenting the fairs, the public 
 houses, the funerals, the places of rural amusement, 
 trying to entrap incautious youth into a sworn 
 'agrarian' confederacy; and I am assured on au- 
 thority, which I cannot doubt, that these blood- 
 mongers ore followed everywhere they go by gov- 
 ernment detectives, spies in the disguise of jobbers, 
 pedlars, sailors, militia men, &c., who receive infor- 
 mation of the meetings of the deluded victims, 
 transmit their names to the castle, and facilitate their 
 
 uch unmitigated, such unappeasable malignity 
 against everything Catholic in Ireland as within 
 tlic last year; and if appearance can be relied on, 
 one should suppose, that the anti-Irish faction in 
 this country only want a plausible pretext to re- 
 enact the pious ferocity of Cromwell, or to renew 
 the heart-burnings of '95. If the reign of Louis 
 Xapoleen in France and the approaching Keform in 
 England did not menace the persecutors and the 
 bigots of these countries, the poor Irish Catholics 
 might have to endure an annual visitation of expul- 
 sion, famine, sickness, and death. 
 
 The murder of Mr. Ely, and the attempted assas- 
 sination of Sir. Nixon, are foul instances of deliber- 
 ate crime, over which every man of moral feeling 
 in Ireland, amongst all classes and denominations, 
 have raised a heartfelt cry of horror. But while all 
 the Irish population have joined in denouncing the 
 assassins, can any one who has read the truculent 
 articles in the malignant press referred to, avoid 
 saying that the lies of th^se organs against the 
 Catholic clergy, their accusations against the entire 
 Catholic community as being accomplices in mind 
 and feeling with the unknown murderer, is an in- 
 stance of savage fury, reckless lying, unbridled 
 hatred, and sanguinary intent, which, according to 
 the true interpretation of moral guilt, brands the 
 writers of that press as nfar a-kin in feeling and in 
 vengeance to the actual assassins who fired the mur- 
 derous bullets. 
 
 This is not the place nor time to speak of the cry- 
 ing persecution of the whole people of Gweedore. 
 They were never found guilty of the destruction of 
 the three thousand Scotch sheep; yet they were com- 
 pelled to pay their full value of £3,000 ! There is 
 no evidence of eyen their participation with this 
 criminal act ; and yet tney are punished with a 
 second infliction of a police tax of £1,200 ! 
 
 There is no evidence of their having had any 
 guilty share or knowledge of the late attempt on the 
 life of the Rev. Mr. Nixon; the contrary evidence 
 would appear from the fact of the assasins having 
 their faces undisguised, and being therefore 
 strangers; and yet they are all charged as deliberate 
 accomplices, their houses visited by the police; 
 and an increased tax imposed on them as avowed 
 confederates of the murderers ! ! This conduct in 
 the public authorities will bring on them, I fear, 
 universal suspicion; will expose them to the charge 
 of arbitrary severity, and will seem to establish a 
 conviction in the public mind that the bare suspi- 
 cion against a Catliolic district is evidence sufficient 
 to obtain a verdict for their punishment. 
 
 When the lamented Mr. Little was foully mur- 
 dered, at the tenuinus of the Broadstone, the mur- 
 derer being still undiscovered, why did not ' the 
 Castle ■ proclaim the whole railway establishment, 
 send the police to be quartered in the terminus, and 
 impose a galling, odious, insulting tax for murder 
 on all the proprieties ? Wherefore the difference ? 
 I could also bring forward the murder of Mrs. ICel- 
 ley, the murderer being still at large. Why not pro- 
 claim that district 5 Why not impose a murder-tax 
 
 arrest whenever the central authority is pApared to j on the surrounding inhabitants r If the people of 
 complete the crimal evidence, and to secure their j Gweedore, without a proof, an evidence of their 
 transportation. These statements, which I here | guilty participation, are to be taxed for an attempt 
 make, should therefore act as a renewed warning j at assassination in their district, what locality can 
 from me against all communication with ' secret i be safe from a similar insulting vengeance r The 
 societies ;' and, above all, against forming any ac- | Cotholics of Ireland are giving their sanction to these 
 quaintance with suspicious strangers who lie in wait 1 unfounded charges against this innocent people by 
 
 VARIOUS ITEMS. 
 
 An Ordku. When the late illustrious Chevalier 
 Taylor was enumerating tlic honors he had received 
 from different princes of Europe, and the orders 
 with which he had been dignified by numerous sov- 
 ereigns, a gentleman present remarked that he had 
 not mentioned the King of Prussia, and added, ' I 
 suppose, sir, he never gave you any order ? ' You 
 are mistaken, sir," replied the chevalier, • he gave 
 me a most peremptory order to quit his domin- 
 ions,' 
 
 Dress has a moral effect upon the conduct of 
 mankind. Let any gentleman find himself with 
 dirty boots, old surtout, soiled neckcloth, and a 
 general negligence of dress, he will in all probabili- 
 ty find a corresponding disposition to negligence of 
 address. 
 
 Legal Tickling. — Henry Erskine, the famous 
 Scotch barrister, a great wag, was once pleading 
 before a funny Scotch judge, with whom he was on 
 the most intimate terms, and happening to have a 
 female client by the name of Tickle, he commenced 
 his speech in the following strain, ' Tickle, my 
 client, my lord." The court was almost driven into 
 hysterics of laughter by the judge replying, 'Tickle 
 her yourself, Henry.' 
 
 It is seldom that God sends such calamities upon 
 men as men bring upon themselves and suffer wil- 
 lingly. 
 
 Characters formed in the routine of a court, like 
 pebbles in a brook, are rounded into a smooth uni- 
 formity, in which the points and angles of virtuous 
 singularity are lost. 
 
 The best rules for a young man to form are to talk 
 little, to hear much, to reflect alone upon what has 
 passed in company, to distrust one owii's opinions, 
 and value others that deserve it. 
 
 Allow no man to be so free with you as to praise 
 you to your face. Your vanity by this means will 
 want its food. At the same time your passion for 
 esteem will be more fully gratified; men will praise 
 you in their actions ; where you now receive one 
 compliment, you will then receive twenty civili-' 
 ties. 
 
 A Traveller's Name. — An Englishman had 
 hired a smart travelling servant, and arriving at an 
 inn one evening, knowing well the stringency of 
 police regulations in Austria, where he was, he 
 called for the usual register of travellers, that he 
 might duly inescribe himself therein. His servant 
 replied that he had anticipated his wishes, and had 
 registered him in full form as an ' English gentle- 
 man of independent property.' 
 
 ' But how have you put down my name r I have 
 not told it you." 
 
 ' I can't e-xactly pronounce it, but I copied it 
 faithfully from y our portmanteau." 
 
 ' But it is not there — bring me the book." 
 
 What was his consternation at finding, instead of 
 a very plain English name of two syllables, the fol- 
 lowing portentious entry of himself — ' Monsieur 
 Warrentedsolidleather." 
 
 Cool. — 'Recollect, sir," said a tavern keeper to a 
 coach passenger, who had only taken a glass of wa- 
 ter, and not remembered the waiter, ' recollect, sir, 
 if you please, if you lose your purse, you didn't pull 
 it out hero.' 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 367 
 
 ADVERTISEMENTS. 
 
 OLD COLONY HOUSE. 
 
 PATUICK HOLLY bep;? Ictivo to nnnouiicc to Ills pnt- 
 rous uinl tlie public Kfiioriilly thtit he has coiistautly 
 ou luiiul ut his old and well-known stimU, 
 
 THE OLD COLONY HOUSE, 
 
 CORNER OF KNEELAXD AND SOUTH STREETS, 
 A CHOICE AeSOllTMK^T OF 
 
 BRANDIES, "WINES, SCOTCH & IKISH 
 
 WHISKEY, CIGjVRS, &o. &c., 
 
 11 ol the very lirst quiility, which can be obtained too at 
 
 LOWER RATE 
 
 thnn eL^ewhere in the market; in proof of which he invites 
 purcbusers to give him a call. nug 28 
 
 NOKTHERN HOUSE, 
 
 NORTH SQUA UK— BOSTON. 
 
 JOHN GLANCY Proprietor. 
 
 This House has rooms equal to any first class Hotel, and 
 permanent or transient Boiirders can be accommodated 
 nearly cue half cheaper than at any other House in the 
 City. 
 
 In the Reading Room can be found all the morning and 
 evening papers, and periodicals of the day, together with 
 an extensive Library, for the free and exclusi\e use ol 
 the Boarders. 
 
 N. B. Strangers visiting Boston, can always find this 
 House a Home. 
 
 TURKEY SALVE 
 
 HEALS ULCERATED SOKES, FELONS, 
 Burns, Whitlow, Palm Abscess, skin or water Scrofu- 
 la, Ulcerated Sore Legs, Bruises, Chapped Hands, Ulcers in 
 the Neck, Scald Head in Children, Frosted Feet, Sore Nose, 
 Boils, Bleeding Piles, Ulcerated Sore Breast, Sore Nipples, 
 Intlamed Breasts made to supperate in twelve hours, with- 
 out a resort t^o the ' knite.' There is no Salve before the 
 public so powerful as this, being entirely made from the 
 strongest herbs, roots and barks. It can be reduced so as 
 to be applied to a child one week old, or be made strong 
 enough to dress an ulcer every half hour, even after morti- 
 lication sets in. so that this salve will do more good in one 
 day than all others in one week. 
 
 K. B. — I give my entire attention to healing Ulcerated 
 Sores, and warrant a perfect cure,failing in which 1 make no 
 charge. My motto is, 'No cure no pay.' Charges moder- 
 ate. 
 
 FRANCIS F. SPRING. 
 
 dllm 16 High street, Boston. 
 
 DO'ROUEKE, respectfully informs his friends and the 
 • public, that he keeps constantly on hand COFFINS 
 of all sizes and kinds, at his Coffin Manufactory, No. 347 
 Federal, between Beach and Kneeland Streets, Boston, 
 which he will sell as reasonable as can be bought at any oth- 
 er place in the city. 
 
 N. B. — Orders punctually attended to, day or night. 
 
 lifsidence. No. 28 South street, Boston. 
 
 {l^f-i rave-Clothes furnished to order at short notice. 
 
 feblS 
 
 FRANCIS GODFREY, 
 
 IMI'OKIER AND RESTOUEK OF 
 
 ITALIAN PAINTINGS, 
 
 AN U MANUFACT UK EK OF GILT FRAMES, 
 
 12 Franklin Stueet, noBTox. 
 
 C?* Engravings. Lithographs, Crayons, &c., ou sale. 
 
 3m ougSS 
 
 ADVERTISEMENTS 
 
 P . M OK K I S , 
 
 APOTHECARY. 
 
 Conler of Federal and I'urchaso streets, foot of Summer 
 
 street, Boston. 
 
 STRICT personal attention paid to compounding Physi 
 clan's Prescriptions. A choice selection of Family 
 Medicines constantly on hand. A well ."elected stock of 
 genuine imported Perfumery and Fancy Goods. Soda 
 Water with clioicc Syrups. A large assortment of genuine 
 HavaDa Segars coustautly on baud. ap5 
 
 IMPORTANT TO HOUSEKEEPERS! 
 
 J . FORD 153 Fedeiial Street, 
 
 TJ ESPKCTFULLY informs his IViends and the public 
 _tV t''"' ''* continues to offer for sale a large aud select 
 assortment of 
 
 GROCERIES, 
 
 Consisting of TEAS, .SUGARS, COFFEES, SPICES, &c. 
 
 — ALSO — 
 
 CHOICEST WINES, LIQUORS AND CIGARS 
 
 Wholesale and Retail. 
 THE BEST FAMILY FLOUR CONSTANTLY ON HAND. 
 The subscriber's long experience enables him to sell to the 
 purchaser's advantage, and it is his undeviating aim to pro- 
 duce a better article than can be found elsewhere for the 
 same price. He is, therefore, confident that those favoring 
 him with their patronage will receive every satisfaction, and 
 find his goods are sold extremely low for cash. lydll 
 
 FINE READY MADE CLOTHING 
 
 CUSTOM TAILORING. 
 
 SPRING OVERCOATS, 
 
 BUSINESS COATS, 
 
 FROCK AND DRESS COATS, 
 
 PANTS AND VESTS, 
 Good, Stylish, Well Made Garments, 
 Such as men of taste and good judgment will wear, can at 
 all times be found at our store. 
 Our aim is to produce for our customers the best Ready 
 Made Garments at the lowest possible prices fob 
 CASH. 
 
 Readers of this Journal are earnestly solicited to exam- 
 ine our goods before purchasing. 
 
 J W. SMITH & CO., 
 
 DooK Square, corner Elsi Street. 
 my 11 tf 
 
 SOUTH END CATHOLIC BOOK STORE, 
 
 And Depot for the Sale of the 
 
 METROPOLITAN AND YOUTHS' MAGAZINES. 
 
 WILLIAM KEATING, Agent, 
 
 8 1-2 Harrison Avenue, or at his New Periodical Store, 176 
 
 Harrison Avenue, Boston, Mass., 
 
 Where a great variety of the most popular Books and 
 
 Papers cam be had at the very lowest prices, 
 
 WILL supply Clubs, Agents, Canvassers, &c., on the 
 same terms as the Publishers. The following are 
 the terms — 3 copies will be sent by mail, to one address, for 
 one year S5 ; 6 copies for $10 ; 13 copies for $20 ; 20 copies 
 for $30. 
 
 tCr- On the receipt of S3, three copies of the Catholic 
 Youth's Magazine aud one copy of the Metropolitan will 
 be mailed regularly for one year. 
 
 [rr° A few sets of the Magazines from the beginning, can 
 be had of the Agent. Also, all new bcTOks furnished as 
 soon as published. ap24 3mos 
 
 J. & R. MURPHY, 
 
 manufaoturers of 
 SURGICAL AND DENTAL INSTRUMENTS- 
 CUTLERY, 
 AND STEEL WORK OF EVERY KIND, 
 No. 3 HARVARD PLACE, (opposite the Old South,) 
 
 BOSTON, Mass. 
 ll^Cutlery and Instruments of all kinds Repaired, 
 ly aug2S 
 
 GENERAL TICICET OFFICE 
 
 — for the — 
 
 SOUTHERN AND WESTERN STATES 
 
 AND 
 
 THE CANADAS, 
 
 No. 2 Albany Street, Boston. 
 
 EDWAED KYAN, Agent. 
 
 N. B.— Pa-isage to and from Liverpool, and Bills of Ex- 
 change ou England, Ireland aud Scotland. 
 
 ap24 ly 
 
 W. J. IIENNESSY, 
 ARTIST, 
 
 No. 87 FRANKLIN STREET, 
 iVJElV YORK CITY. 
 
 ADVERTISEMENTS. 
 
 MERCANTILE AND WRITING SCHOOL, 
 
 E. J. GLEESON, Master. 
 
 This School is now opened at No. 23 Portland Street, 
 a few doors south of Dooley's Exchange Hotel, where a 
 select and limited number of the Youth of both sexes wil 
 be admitted ; time from 9 A. M. to 12 M., and from 2 P. M. 
 to 6 P.M. 
 
 TERMS MODERA TE. 
 
 EVFNING SCHOOL! 
 
 This school will be opened in (he same place on the first 
 evening of next month, where adults and those of riper 
 years, will be carefully and assiduously instructed in the 
 various branches of learning', suitable to their calling. 
 
 BOOK-KEEPING: 
 
 Mr. Gleeson ventures to say, and pledges himself without 
 hesitation, that he will qualify young gentlemen for the 
 Counting Room, in half the time that is consumed iu simi- 
 lar institutions in this city, and at considerable less ex- 
 pense. 
 
 August 17th, 1858. aug28 
 
 THE IRISH VINDICATOR. 
 
 A WEEKLY NEWSPAPER, 
 
 The Best and Cheapest Published in America. 
 
 THIS splendid Paper, which, is little over nine months 
 n existence, has met with the 
 
 M^^ WONDERFUL SUCCESS, 
 
 and has been pronuunced by the Press and the Public to be 
 
 superior to any other Irish Weekly iu the United States. 
 
 It contains each week, the very 
 
 Latest News prom evert County in Ireland • 
 
 Original and entertaining 
 
 STORIES AND ANECDOTES, 
 
 and a variety ofMiscellaneous Reading matter, ofacharao- 
 ter which cannot fail to elevate and chasten the intel- 
 lectual appetite. The Irish Vindicator is devoted 
 
 TO THE INTERESTS OF IRISHMEN IN AMERICA, 
 and is so cheap as to be within the reach of the poorest. 
 
 ONLY THREE CENTS A COPY. 
 
 the following are the terms 
 
 To any part of the United States, for one year SI 50 
 
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 To any part of Canada or the British I'roviuces, one year 
 
 $2,00— All payments in advance. 
 
 FOR advertising, 
 
 12 lines, single insertion $1.00 I 12 lines, 1 month, S2 60 
 
 12 do. 3 mouths, 5.50 | 12 do. 1 year, 16.00 
 
 Published every week, at the Office, No 10 Spruce street 
 New York, by the Proprietors. 
 
 „, „ , EDWAIJD DOWNES CONNERY & CO. 
 
 New York, march 27 
 
 CLUBS! CLUBS!! CLUBS!!! 
 
 There is no town or village so small, but a club of six or 
 more subscribers for the Irish Miscellany can be easily ob- 
 tained. Will tliosB of our friends who are well-wishers oi 
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 Our terms will be — 
 To aclub of six persons sent to one address, $10,00 
 
 To a club of twelve, ig.oo 
 
 The whole of the money must invariably be sent at one 
 remittance, and in advance. 
 
 Let all our friends exert themselves, and by their 
 patronage make the Miscellany the foremost Irish journa 
 on this continent. 
 
 TRAVELLING AGENTS WANTED. 
 
 We have determined to appoint a number of Travelling 
 Agents, to travel in the various Stales of the Union and 
 canvass for subscribers for this paper We do this at the 
 earnest request of many warm friends, who think we do 
 not take the requisite steps to make the paper known as ex- 
 tensively as it ought to be. 
 
 Persons desirous of becoming Travelling Agents, who 
 can be well recomnvcnded, are requested to apply atour 
 office forthwith. None but faithful, reliable men need ap 
 ply. To such a liberal commission will be allowed. Apply 
 at ourPublicalion Office, 10 Franklin street, Boston. 
 
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 cation, No. 16 1'Vanklin street, Boston. W"ilIour friends in 
 want bear thia flict in mind? 
 
368 
 
 St. Mahy's Muti'al Rbliki' Society of Chaklks- 
 Town. — Wc attended a meeting of thissoeiety n few 
 evenings since by invitation. The annual election 
 of officers was wormly contested, resulting in the 
 choice of John Long as President, Patrick Iv. Hyan 
 Vicc-1'resident, Theodore Murphy Secretary, and 
 Edward Conway Treasurer, with a new board of 
 directors. The retiring president has occupied the 
 chair nearly fourteen years, honorable to himself 
 and satisfactorily to the society. The society ii now 
 twenty-tivc years old, is iii a prosperous condition, 
 and, vnder the guidance of our friend Sir. Long, 
 must progress in numbers, confidence and wealth. 
 
 IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 ▲DVCHTISEMENTS 
 
 ADVERTISEMENTS. 
 
 r.\SS.\(il'. KKUrCKK llin'WKKN 
 
 LIVERPOOL AND BOSTON 
 
 *^ 
 
 MERCHANTS' LINE 
 
 W^ 
 
 HOSTON AND LIVERPOOL PACKETS; 
 
 IlILINU moa HVKKrOOL DIKBCT to BOBTO.-t EVERY 
 KIFTKEN DAYS. 
 
 STEAM T(J ALL PARTS OF GREAT RRITAIN 
 
 —VIA TIIK— 
 Al'I.AMIC ItdVAl, SIAll. .sri.AMSlllI' <(|-.S 
 
 NEW YORK AND GALWAY LINE. 
 
 TIII.S is the nhortc'st route belwcon Kuroim ami Amir- 
 ictl. The line i^ uoiiipusetl ul' powcrruf untl liiKl 
 
 DoiicHESTEu Catholk- Cemltauv. — The fifteenth 
 semi-anaual meeting of the proprietors of the Catho- 
 lic Cemetary Corporation, loiatid in I>orelie»ter, 
 was held last week in Dearborn Hull, Roxbury. 
 Nicholas L. Rean was culled topreside,and Michael 
 Dolan officiated ns secretary. From the reports of 
 the officers of the society, we learn that the whole 
 number of burials in the cemetery to Dec. 31, 1858, 
 has been jO:J7. The receipts for the last year have 
 been $1,1.!2,27, including cash on hand at the com- 
 mencement of the year. During this time the ex- 
 penditures have been $519,73, leaving a balance on 
 hand of near $000. 
 
 L. LoRExz's EfiiorEAX Exi'Uess. — Persons who 
 ■want t6 send packages to Europe should read the 
 advertisement of L. Lorenz in another part of this 
 paper ; it will he seen that this firm forwards pack- 
 ages to Europe by steamers twice a week, and 
 guarantees prompt delivery to any place in England, 
 Ireland or Scotland. Mr. Julius Spaeth, of No. 2 
 Albany street, is the Roston agent. Mr. S. has 
 been connected for the last four years with Mr. 
 Edward Ryan in the western passenger business, 
 and we can safely recommend all persons having 
 packages to send to Europe to trust their business 
 to Mr. Spaeth. 
 
 Old Hickory Hol'se.— We are glad that our old 
 friend, James McNulty, has chosen such a good 
 locality as3G Main street, Charlestown. The Hick- 
 ory House will, no doubt, become head-quarters 
 for the Charslestown Democracy, and the host will 
 be found ever ready to dispense the comforts of the 
 season to the many adherents of the popular party, 
 nor will Know Nothings or Black Republicans re- 
 recive the cold shoulder. All will be used alike in 
 the spirit of good fellowship and brotherly love. 
 
 IlK sri.t^UIU TACKKl'S comprieiiig tin's line arc otf 
 C»iJlaiii». 
 
 <lji|iK. nlity ulliccred, niiil hiriilMieil wiili 
 kI ugn 
 iVay will be 
 
 rpiiK 
 
 1 l'< 
 
 >>lii|H. 
 CoMMonoiiK 
 
 t'AULVLK - 
 
 ' .Shawm ut 
 
 Tuns- Jkfkkkson 
 SVai.tkk .Scott - 
 
 I'UINCESSUoVAI. - 
 
 lii( iiAiii) Mouse - 
 
 TllAI.ATTA - - - 
 ("A.MIlltlA - - - 
 
 ■ ships 
 
 Tons. 
 
 1»I0 - - 
 
 aioo Maxivrll 
 
 liPOO lli;.'xiii.i 
 
 l.OiKJ MelchiT 
 
 liii'rt "ill 
 
 1811ft Sinilh 
 
 ShkI Ilailley 
 
 irm Uiiisiiiore 
 
 i:w Sliii>on 
 
 IboO I'erry 
 
 . - - 1700 Uelniiil 
 
 TK - - 1000 Kicli 
 
 nil of the llrst claH.s, mostly new, aucl built 
 Ij\erpo(>l trade; spacious between deckf*, 
 well vtiitiiul.il, M itli ull thf niiiiieni iniprovenieuls lor the 
 c.inilDil, li.iillh null Miti-lv ul piissiMi;,a-rs. They are coni- 
 innuiliil l.v Almriciiii Cnl.tiiiiis ul Icuowii oxperieuee and 
 kiniluus.-, Willi will ciinlully louk to ull the wants of tlie 
 passen;;er» durini; the vovBKe. 
 
 I'.ucli ship will be I'uruished with proper Medical atteu- 
 diince. 
 
 Tenons scndiDg for their friends in the Old Country can 
 DEeEXO on having them ordered up pkomi'TLY lor the 
 FIKST SHIPS, and at such times as will prevcut their beinj; 
 dulaiued in i,iverpool, as is often practiced by the otiier 
 lines. 
 
 RATES OF PASSAGE 
 from Liverpool toUoston (includinj; provisions):— 
 For persons 12 years of a^e, and over, - - - 81S XI 
 
 For children under la years, 14 »0 
 
 For iut'uuts uuder 1 jeur, at time of embarkation, 3 OO 
 
 REMITTANCES. 
 Bills of E.NCbange on England, Ireland, Scotland, Wales 
 and (Jermany, for sale in sums to suit. 
 
 rnssengers forwarded weekly to all parts ol Europe by 
 Steam and Sailinj; vessels. 
 
 PAGE, RICHARDSON & CO., 
 
 114 State street, Boston. 
 
 (C?- For PASSAGE CEKTIFICATES from and to Liver- 
 pool, and liills of Excliaupe, or for any iuformation as 
 uhuve, apply ]iersonally or by letter to 
 
 LAWRENCE & RYAN, Agents. 
 
 n2Tly No. 41 ISroad street, liost5n. 
 
 lows, until lunlier notice, viz-- 
 
 I'ACIFU; Snturduv, .iHinnry R. 
 
 I'llliNCEALHEUr- - - Thur»day, January 27. 
 
 I'ersiins visitiii); Ireland reach llieir destinatliin in lliree- 
 tourtliK the lime taken by any iitlier rnule. and all have an 
 upportunitv ot visiting pluees and sceueiy ul unlivulled in- 
 teresl in Ireland. 
 
 Trice ul piis.Mi;<e, including free tickets by the uiiiuil niil- 
 riiud routes frum (iuhvuv In unv ol the |irincipal eilien ol 
 (;ri'al llriliiiu. at Ihe fulliiwiii;; i-cduci-d rates:— First class 
 sun. second elii's .S.7I, tluid chi.-.- .^:iil. 
 
 Tho^e ^vi~hill^'l.> hiiii- IliLir li ieiuls to this couutrv can 
 purehasi- lickit.- lor thiir pas-a;;e in lliird olaiis from (ial- 
 wuy at s^:i^, iir frum other cnies in (iieat Itrituin', ucces.iiblo 
 h)' niilruuil. .^.Ti. A liberal cabin table will be provided. 
 \ aiiil euuki'd ]M-ovi8ious for third class passengers to aiiu 
 
 « The Postal Diuectok ' is the name of a very 
 valuable compendium of information respecting 
 dates and departures of foreign and California mails 
 from Roston. It states the rates of postage to all 
 foreign countries, and the average time required for 
 letters to reach their destination. It is issued 
 quarterly, commencing January 1, 1859, by AVil- 
 liam L. Frothingham, chief clerk of the foreign de- 
 partment, Post (Office, Boston. Price fifty cents. 
 
 James Suleitas, our agent, the holy days being 
 over, will visit Northampton, Springfield, and adja- 
 cent towns, this and next week. For the kindness 
 and attention with which he is everywhere received 
 hv our friends, we return our sincere thanks, and 
 we hope to continue to give them a choice selection 
 of reading matter, both amusing and instructive. 
 
 L. L R E N Z • S 
 
 EUROPEAN EXPRESS 
 
 I->OU\VAUDS PACKAGES TO EUROTEIU'STEAMKU 
 twice a week, and guarantees prompt delivery to any 
 place in ENGLAND, IKELAND and SCOTLAND free of 
 charges. 
 
 Single daguerreotye - - - - SI 00 
 l*ackageH*l-4 cubic foot - - - - 2 (K) 
 do ^-2 do do - - - - 3 00 
 
 do 1 do do - - - - 5 00 
 I'ackages gone up gratis at EDWAKD KYAN'S 
 ticket oftice, No. 2 Albany street, Boston, Mass. 
 janl— ly JULIUS SPAETH, Agent. 
 
 York, or to 
 ol6 
 
 •^\tt and passage and further piirlieulars apply to 
 an Express Oom]>aliy, til Hndsun street, S'ew 
 
 AWILLIAM.S 8c CO., Wholciale Agents, for the Iiiisk 
 . MlscHLLANY. The Tlade sumilied with Books, IV- 
 riudicnls and Newspapers. Special Agents for Harper k 
 Brothers Tublicatiuus. No. 100 Washington street. 
 teli20 Boston. 
 
 TKEANOIt & (;i;iXKV, AITOKNEVS AND COUNSEL- 
 LoKS ATLAW,15 31asEacliUECtts Block, Court square, 
 Boston. 
 
 [i;^TarticuIar attention jiaid to Convoyaiicing, and the 
 xumuiatiuu of titles of Ke:il Estate. fubl 
 
 OUK AGENTS. 
 Roston— John J. Dver, & Co.. 35 School street; A. Wil- 
 liams & Co., lOU Washington slieet;' Fedheren & Co., 9 and 
 
 Fast liofton— William liurk. 
 Charlestown— Janii-s -McNulty. 
 Chelsea-.Iohn Giahani. 
 Milliiii— .li.liii Collins. 
 
 Kanilolpli— J.:i 
 
 yun 
 
 Aiiilr 
 
 ■.Mc 
 
 rath. 
 
 -Charles Ureslin. 
 MillOnl-lfohert I'ieid. 
 St oneliam— James Caluan. 
 Medford and .Maiden— Daniel Devvir. 
 lian;;or, Me — E<1ward J. Kelleher. 
 
 Vork — Dexler & Brother, 14 & 10 Ann street. 
 I. Y. — Francis Koarke. 
 ilphia. — A. Wincb, 320 Chestnut street. 
 M. U. 
 
 Trov, : 
 Philad 
 
 To OIK Aor.NTS. — Three more numbers will close 
 the second volume of the Miscellany, and we will 
 demand of our agents more prompt payments, 
 and shall do more of a cash businc-s in future. The 
 old ' slow-coach' system will be abandoned alto- 
 gether by our business man. 
 
 Those of our agents and others who may have 
 any of last week's paper (No. 48) on hand, and not 
 needins: them for binding, will confer a great favor 
 by sending tllein to us, as we are entirely run out, 
 and want them fur binding. 
 
 ORDWAY HALL-WASHINGTON STREET. 
 
 TENTH SEASON OF ORDWAV'S >EOLIANS, 
 
 MANAGEIJ. J. T. OltDWAY. The performances given 
 nightly at this establishment consist in part of 
 ETlilOTlAN MELODY, llLULESyl.'E and COMKjUE. 
 The hall has been beautifully painted and reflllcd. No 
 pains or expense has been spared to make the JEuliaus 
 equal to any comjiany iu the world. 
 Tickets 25 ccnta- Children under ten, 15 cents. 
 Doors open 1-4 before 7. PerformauceB commence at 
 7 1-4 o'clock. See small bills. tf— jaul5 
 
 CATHOLIC BOOK STORE. 
 
 -IxriLLIAJI IIICKEV, Catholic Bookseller, and Agent 
 ' ' for the Eilcnsive Publishing llouse of D. b J. 
 
 Sadlikr fc Co., of New York. 
 The latest and must varied stock of Keligious Prints, 
 MISSALS, I'ltAYER BOOKS. CROSSES, 
 
 and all the Curreut Literature, coostaatly on baud. 
 
 No. 128 Fedekai, (cokneu of Wiluajis) stiieet, 
 BOSTON, MASS. 
 
 LAWRENCE lililGADE BAND. J. Desmono, Lead- 
 er. Are prepared to furnish Music for Mililary and 
 Civic Parades, Tic-Nics. Festivals, Jtc. Also, a linadrille 
 Band luniished, if de-ired. Addreas J. Desmuud, uaie of 
 Key. J. O'DonmjU, Lawrence. Mass. 
 
 Cle 
 
 . Bird, Ciuciunati, and liawks & Brotheri 
 
 Detroit, Mich.— J. A. Kov«. 
 Washington. D. C— Daniel A. Brosnan- 
 SliUvaukie. Wisconsin— J. Sigerson & Co. 
 St. Louis, Missouri. — Thomas Duggau. 
 New Orleans, La. — James M. Shine. 
 California — .lames McGinn, of Sun Francisco. 
 The Miscrltnny may also be had, retail, of newspaper and 
 periodical dealers throughout the country. 
 
 TIIAVELLINO AGENTS. 
 
 John Warren. 50 Andover street, liy iiostou and vicinity 
 M. Findluy McKay, of Araesburv, Alass. Edward ll. 
 Kcenan, ol NoVth Ferrisburg, Vt. Michael F. Uackell, ot 
 Trovidence. K. X. James Sullivan, of New Haven, CI. Jas- 
 Cullen, of West Troy, N. Y. Jamen Walsh, Newllauij- 
 shire. 
 
 RATES OF ADVEUTISING. 
 
 FOR EAfU SyOAltKOF TWELVE IIKW 
 
 First insertion, . . . Sl.Ofl j Three inontlis, . 
 Each 8UbKe<|uent do . 60 j One 
 
 Six lines or le.s.< constitute liajl a square. 
 
 Larger advertiiements charged in proportion. 
 
 Business Notices, solid . . . 10 cent* fier fine. 
 
 ' *' leaded ... 15 " " *' 
 
 BUSINESS CARDS OF SIX lines on less. 
 • On Month, . . . SI. 50 I Si.\- Months, . . . 86.00 
 
 »3.00 I Om 
 •All advertiseftienl.^ payable 
 
 THE 
 IRISH MISCELLANY 
 
 Is published weekly, and devoted to the interests and riu- 
 dicatiun of the Irish people tliroughoul the world. 
 
 Tlie Miffllatw republishes each week one whole number 
 ol the old ' DuiiLiN I'ENhV Jouu-NAi.,' with original aud 
 •elected essavs, reriews, poetry, ie., bv Irishmen, of tirsl- 
 rale ability. ' It also contains beantil'til Ticlurial Illu.stra- 
 tions of Irish scenery and other objects of interest, among 
 wliich may he enumerated en^raxings ot the anciei^ cas- 
 
 tles and ruund to 
 plundered mcaasteries, com 
 
 of the old ohurchcs, the 
 Its and abbeys of Ireland. 
 Ill also cmilaiu correct Pictorial representation* ol 
 works of art executed by Irialinieu ol the pre»ent day, a« 
 well as iu fuliuer times, iu this country and throughout 
 Eurojie. 
 'I'Eluia.— S2.00 jrer year,, invariably in advance. 
 THOMAS ONKIl.l.,, PnorRlKiOK. 
 
 No h\ FltA^'• i STiutiM', boaroir, Hahb. 
 
VOLUME 2— NXTMBER 50.] 
 
 BOSTON, SATURDAY, JANUARY 22, 1859. 
 
 [PRICE POUR CENTS. 
 
 CHURCH OF OUR HOLY REDEEMER. 
 
 In consequence of the increase of Catholics and 
 call for more extensive church" room, the late la- 
 mented Rev. Father Wii.ey projected, with the ap- 
 probation of the Right Rev. Bishop, the erection of 
 the present edifice on the corner of Maverick and 
 London streets, East Boston. 
 Encouraged by the zeal and 
 anticipated co-operation of 
 the congregation, he laid the 
 foundation and completed the 
 basement in the year 1854. 
 This basement affords ample 
 accommodations for the chil- 
 dren attending catechism, of 
 ■whom there are now upwards 
 of seven hundred, with a noble 
 band of zealous teachers. He 
 could do no more : his labors 
 on earth were at on end. He 
 •was prostrate on the bed of 
 Buffering and pain, from 
 which he never rose — a truly 
 devoted, faithful priest. For 
 more than a quarter of a cen- 
 tury he labored zealously for 
 the glory of God and love of 
 his fellow men, in the great 
 affair of their salvation. K 
 from his bed of suffering he 
 had a desire to be relieved, it 
 was but to live to -carry on 
 the great work upon which 
 he was intent, heart and soul. 
 The Lord, who reads the un- 
 spoken thoughts of men, and 
 rewards even the good inten- 
 tions of those who desire to 
 live but to do his blessed will, 
 accepted, we may fondly hope, 
 the earnest desire of his ser- 
 vant. As this good priest 
 lived to share his bread with 
 the poor, so in death, his par- 
 ticular request was that no 
 one who called should leave 
 the door in want. He died 
 as he lived, disinterested about 
 the affairs of this world. He 
 died poor. His virtues were = 
 
 his richest ornaments — he 
 lived for another life. To 
 assist Father Wiley in the 
 care of the flock committed to 
 his charge, the Bishop, Right 
 Kev. Dr. Fitzpatrick, sent 
 Eev. Mr. O'Laughlin to East 
 Boston. He was a young man 
 not long on the mission, whose 
 health was also feeble, and a 
 few weeks after the death of 
 Father Wiley, which occur- 
 red April 19, 1856, he return- 
 ed to Ireland, where he sub- 
 sequently died. The day of 
 the funeral obsequies of the 
 lamented Father Wiley, Rev. 
 F. X. Branagan was sent to 
 attend the spiritual wants of 
 the congregation, while Rev. 
 Father Fitton, who had just 
 completed the splendid and 
 magnificent church at New- 
 
 port, R. I., was solicited to accept the pastorship of 
 East Boston. As soon as arrangements could be 
 made by the Bishop of the Hartford diocese, he 
 came to carry out the views of his departed bosom 
 friend. Father Wiley. It is here, properly speak- 
 ing, that the style of the structure was adopted. 
 
 CBURCH OF OUR HOLY REDKKMER, E.VST BOSTON 
 
 The plan of the church is Gothic of the thirteenth 
 century, one hundred and ten by sixty-two feet in 
 the interior, with chancel twenty-eight by twenty- 
 three feet, and sacristies on either side. The main 
 walls are covered with a span roof, with ornamen- 
 tal slating, which has been found generally safer in 
 New England, where tho 
 many months of storm and 
 snow test the strength and 
 safety of this important part 
 of public buildings. The in- 
 terior is divided into finely 
 proportioned nave and aisles, 
 of sufficient height for beauty 
 of effect, voice, ventilation, 
 and all other convenience. 
 At the termi..ation of the 
 north aisle, there is a very 
 substantial as well as ornate 
 tower or steeple, of nearly 
 two hundred feet in height, 
 which forms a conspicuous 
 beacon for the guidance of 
 travellers for miles around. 
 In this is placed a sweet toned 
 bell, weighing upwards of two 
 thousand pounds, the gener- 
 ous offering of Mr. Daniel 
 Crowley. The walls are mas- 
 sive and of solid masonry, 
 supported by buttresses, all 
 from the quarries of Rock- 
 port, and built in the very 
 best manner by Mr. James 
 Dcvine. The frame work, 
 the roof, spire and turret, 
 were by Mr. Thomas Mur- 
 phy, in his faithful, workman- 
 like manner. The plastering 
 and stuccoing of the interior, 
 which is distinguished for its 
 chaste simplicity and purity 
 of design, was by Mr. Peter 
 McCann, and the finish of 
 wainscotting, pewing, etc., 
 by Mr, Thomas Cassin. The 
 cabinet work is all of season- 
 ed chestnut, varnished, and 
 forms a very elegant and rich 
 finish, without additional ex- 
 pense of paint. The high altar 
 and tabernacle, generously 
 designed by P.O. Keely, Esq., 
 with its elaborate carving, 
 emblems, gilding and other 
 ornaments, and the chapel 
 altars of our Blessed and Im- 
 maculate Virgin Mother, to- 
 gether with that of St. Joseph, 
 and their rich statuary from 
 Munich, were all the gift of 
 the generous daughters of the 
 congregation and their friends. 
 A very conspicuous feature 
 - in this new edifice is the style 
 of the windows, which, being 
 lancet, so called, with emble- 
 matic designs in the heads, 
 arc filled as usual with stain- 
 ed glass and borders, and are 
 so cqnstriicted as to give yenti- 
 lation iti summerand shut out 
 the cold in winter. 
 
370 
 
 miSH MISCELLANY. 
 
 THE PRIVATE MEMOIRS OF CAPTAIN ROCK. 
 'nrBITTEN BT HIMSELF. 
 
 [Continued.] 
 CIIArXEK X V. 
 
 Tiir misn volvnte p. es. 
 
 On my arrival at llookglen, I found my father, 
 with about a hundred followers, preparing to set 
 out for Ileatley-hall, with the intention of rescuing 
 me, should there be any necessity. The old chief- 
 tain, on seeing me safe out of the hands of the Phil- 
 istines, returned his thanks for my fortunate escape. 
 
 I embraced this opportunity for gaining a pretext 
 to visit my uncle in Dublin. On ray depar- 
 ture, the good old man's admonition drew tears 
 into his eyes, and, after kissing his cheek, I took 
 my departure. Owen was waiting for me outside 
 the door, with a .saddled horse, which I quickly 
 mounted, and set out on my journey, my foster- 
 brother walking'beside me. 
 
 Those who understand the meaning of ' ride and 
 tie," will be at no loss to discover the manner in 
 which Owen and I travelled to Maryborough, a 
 nwn in the Queen's County, where I took leave of 
 my foster-brother, with many expressions of regret 
 on both sides, and proceeded on foot to Dublin, 
 which city I entered next day, about eight o'clock 
 in the evening. After turning to the right and to 
 the left about half a dozen times, an old woman 
 informed me that I was in the Combe, and on in- 
 quring for the house of Peter M'Loughlin, was 
 shown up a dirty alley, where I found the domicile 
 of ray uncle. As I stood before the door.a continual 
 whiz — z — z came from the upper apartments, which 
 at first surprised me; but, on recollecting that he 
 followed the trade of a clothier, I was soon recon- 
 ciled to the singular noise. On entering, my aunt 
 tenderly embraced me, inquired after my mother, 
 her sister, and, finally, welcomed me to Dublin. 
 Her husband and sons were called down from their 
 work, and the evening was spent very happily over 
 a bowl of good whiskey punch. 
 
 Next morning one of my cousins took me out to 
 see the city. We visited, successively, every object 
 calculated to excite wonder in a novice like me, 
 and, as we were proceeding down Dame street, we 
 heard the sounds of martial music at a distance. 
 •The volunteers,' said my cousins. 'Indeed !' said 
 I. ' Where are they r' for I had long wished to 
 behold those patriotic bands who redeemed the 
 character of Ireland from the charge of disloyalty 
 and disunion. In a few minutes the wish was gra- 
 tified. The vencrablf Earl of Charlemont, on horse- 
 back, was preceded by an advance guard, and im- 
 mediately following him were several corps of 
 volunteers in their uniforms, colors flying, bayonets 
 fixed, Sec. There is something in military array to 
 gratify youth, and, as the enrolled citizens marched 
 by us, I wished that I had been one of them. It 
 being a field day, we followed the drum out to the 
 neighborhood of Kathfarnham, and sav/ the corps 
 go through their different evolutions. 
 
 As my memoir is in fact the history of Ireland, I 
 shall here detail the origin of the Irish volunteers — 
 an institution totally unprecedented in the annals 
 of the world. Their appearance forms one of the 
 few green spots — if not the only one — which the 
 gloomy desert of Irish history presents; and it is that 
 epoch, above all others, which my countrj'men 
 should be well acquainted with. 
 
 The American war having exhausted England 
 both of money and men, Ireland was left, in 1778, 
 completely defenceless, there not being more than a 
 thousand soldiers in the whole island. In this 
 emergency, a French invasion was threatened, and 
 the people of Belfast, whose town had been, eighteen 
 years before, visited by a hostile fleet, applied to 
 government for protection. The answer was candid — 
 for a fool was secretary of state — goveriunent could 
 afford pone. 
 
 ' To the many idle suggestions (idle, as they only 
 produced unnecessary irritation,) of the illegality 
 of the volunteer army, this letter might, perhaps, 
 be opposed as a substantial answer, (iovernmcnt 
 was, as to national defence, abdicated, and the 
 people hit to take care of themselves. But, if thus 
 abandoned, their spirit soon supplied the defects 
 and imbecility of administration. Belfast, Antrim, 
 the adjacent counties, poured forth their armed 
 citizens. The town of Armagh raised a body of men, 
 at the head of whom Lord Charlemont placed him- 
 self. Every day beheld the institution expand; a 
 noble ardour was almost everywhere difl'uscd, and, 
 where it wasnot felt, was at least imitated. Several, 
 who had at first stood aloof, now became volunteers 
 from necessity — from fashion. No landlord could 
 meet Lis tenants, no member of parliament his con- 
 stituents, who wasnot willing to serve and act with 
 his armed countrymen. The spirit-stirring drum 
 was heard through every province; not to ' fright 
 the isle from its propriety,' but to animate its in- 
 habitants to the most sacred of all duties — the de- 
 fence of their liberties and their country. 
 
 Government stood astounded. With unavailing 
 regret, it now beheld the effects of its own imme- 
 diate work indeed; but, to look more retrospectively, 
 the work of its predecessors, and of England. To 
 disunite or disarray the volunteers was beyond their 
 power, though the secret object of their wishes. 
 Disunion, without money, was impracticable, and 
 the volunteers well knew that the contractors and 
 manufacturers at the other side of the channel, who 
 had inipoverished the Exchequer, and the courtiers 
 who had robbed it here, could not rob them of their 
 arms and privileges. The former would not give 
 nothing, and the latter had nothing to give. But 
 money, if to be had, could then have effected little, 
 or rather nothing whatever. As a body, the volun- 
 teers, in that hour of generous enthusiasm, were as 
 unassailable by gold as by fear. As to disarraying 
 them, supposing its accomplishment, to such a'state 
 had ministers brought matters, it could not have 
 been effected without danger. Contending terrors 
 agitated the administration. An arniy,acting without 
 any authority from the crown, was a subject of great 
 alarm; but French invasion was a cause of alarm 
 still moi-e immediate; and yet, no other troops had 
 ministers to oppose to invasion, than this formidable 
 volunteer army, with whom, or without whom, they 
 now did not know how to live. America had 
 drained both kingdoms of their forces, and for the 
 raising of a militia, government had no money, and 
 the volunteers no inclination. Ministers looked 
 around for succour, but in vain. One notable ex- 
 pedient they, or some of their emissaries, had re- 
 course to, in order to divide the volunteers, which I 
 had almost forgotten, but it deserves to be mention- 
 ed. It was proposed to some of their officers (this 
 took place in the South) to get commissions from 
 the crown, or take them out at first as for form 
 sake merely. ' In case of an invasion,' said those 
 forlorn logicians, 'and that you are taken prisoners, 
 such commissions will, alone, entitle you to an 
 exchange." At the very moment there was an Eng- 
 lish army captive in Amecica ! So strangely for- 
 getful are some intem.perate politicians, of the most 
 alarming events, even of yesterday, and so unable 
 or 80 resolutely determined are they to draw no 
 beneficial inference from them whatever. The 
 volunteers were, at last, no longer teased nor tor- 
 mented. Those who wore most attached to admin- 
 istration fell into their ranks as well as its oppo- 
 nents. In little more than a year, their numbers 
 amounted to forty-two thouiand men. The Duke 
 of Leinster, the Earl of Clanricaide, Lord Charle- 
 mont, not to mention other noblerjen and gentle- 
 men of the highest stations, commanded them in 
 difi'erent districts. 
 
 Generosity, frankness, and, above all, a disposi- 
 tion in Xiisbmen to regard each other with looks of 
 
 kindness, were then most apparent. It was impos- 
 sible to contemplate and enjoy the cheerful dawn of 
 unsuspicious intercourse, which then diffused its 
 reviving light over this island, without an abhor- 
 rence of that debasing policy, which, when the 
 sword was sheathed, and thQ. statute book slumber- 
 ed, sullenly filled the'placc of both, turned aside the 
 national character from its natural course, counter- 
 acted its best propensities, and, under the denomi- 
 nation of religion, fiercely opposed itself to the 
 celestial precept of Christianity — love one another. 
 The content, the satisfaction that sat on every face, 
 and, I may add, the moral improvement, that formed 
 one of the purest sources of that satisfaction, can- 
 not be effaced from the memory. Let those who 
 sneer at the volunteer institution point out the days, 
 not merely in the Irish, but any history, when deco- 
 rous manners kept more even pace with the best 
 charities of life, when crime found less countenance, 
 jnd law more reverence. This state of affairs lasted 
 it is true, but a short period. It has passed away 
 like a dream. The mutability of all institutions 
 every one feels; but few will acknowledge their own 
 follies, which so often produce, or aeceleratp, such 
 sad vicissitudes, and from folly we were not more 
 exempt than others. 
 
 An investigation of some of the causes which 
 contributed to the celebrity and success of the volun- 
 teer army, till the year 17S3, may not be without its 
 utility. It was fortunate for Ireland that there 
 should have been at that time a growth of men, 
 capable of restraining popular excesses, to whoso 
 understanding the people wisely committed them- 
 selves, and by whose prudence they triumphed. 
 Livy mentions that Roman virtue never shone so 
 much as in the second Punic way. 'Never,' says 
 he, 'were the people more disposed to revere the 
 wisdom of their superiors, nor their superiors more 
 disposed to favor the people.' The success which 
 attended the period I have now touched upon 
 should be a lesson to both; to the people, to be on 
 their guard against vanity, and the higher orders 
 against pride. Had the example of the French re- 
 volution taken place at that day, Ireland would, it 
 is more than probable, have totally failed in her 
 efforts. But there was then no rivalry of orders in 
 the state; one thing professed, another thing con- 
 cealed. The union that subsisted between men of 
 superior endowments, and those of home-spun in- 
 tegrity and good sense, was for the sole purpose of 
 mutual triumph. Lord Charlemont, and the truly 
 good and wise men who acted with him, took care 
 to confine the public mind to two great principles, 
 the defence of the empire, and the restoration of 
 our constitution. In their steps to the latter, they 
 were peculiarly cautious to limit the national claim 
 to such a point O'lly as Ireland herself could not 
 divide upon. Tf. is was a grant of a free trade. As 
 to the constitution, Protestants and Catholics had 
 agreed to a declaiation of right, 1C41; the Protes- 
 tant House of Commons, when it had expelled the 
 Catholics, would not listen to any measure which 
 gave countenance to the authority of the English 
 parliament, and the Catholics, in all their proposi- 
 tions and treaties, had insisted on the great point 
 of parliamentary independence. In this measure, 
 therefore, the principal men, who now came for- 
 ward, again united Ireland, and by their statements 
 and publications, divided England so far as to pre- 
 vent its acting in concert against them; for, in two 
 or three years subsequent to this period, a great 
 part of England admitted the justice of our claims. 
 Another cause contributed to national success. It 
 has been already partially displayed, the good con- 
 duct of the people. If the kingdom was menaeed 
 from abroad, it was at home in a state of unexam- 
 pled security. Private property, private peace, 
 were everywhere watched over by the volunteers, 
 with a filial and pious care. Ministers, or rather 
 those who wish to render themselves acceptable to 
 
miSH MISCELLA>IY. 
 
 371 
 
 any ministry, by their mean subserviency, could 
 not have styled the volunteers associations as, most 
 fatally, they styled the Americans, a banditti ; or, 
 had they been silly enough to have attempted to 
 proceed against th-m as such, they would have 
 transformed themselves into the most intemperate, 
 imbecile banditti that history could contemplate. 
 Hume observes, that the revoulution of 1C83 was 
 accomplished by the first persons of the country, 
 in rank and intellect, leading the people. Hence 
 it ended in liberty, not confusion. The revolution 
 of Ireland, I7S2, was formed in a similar manner.' 
 
 So far the biographer of Lord Charlemont. The 
 subsequent history of the volunteers must be defer- 
 red until we have considered the state of the ma- 
 terials which they had to work upon — the Irish 
 parliament, and the Irish people. I cannot close 
 this chapter, however, wiihout stripping the North 
 of the assumed honor of having been the first to raise 
 volunteer corps. To the county of "Wexford that 
 honor belongs, for a body of volunteers existed 
 there twelve months before they were heard of in 
 Ulster, and though the present Viceroy of Ireland 
 was the first to admit Catholics into Dublin corps, 
 they were found embodied with their Protestant 
 fellow-subjects, so early as 1777, in the town of 
 Wextord. 
 
 CHAPTEE XVI. 
 
 THE REVOLUTION OF EIGHTT-TWO. 
 
 It has been found by experience that no part of man 
 is half so sensitive as his pocket. You may assail his 
 head or heart for ages without effect; but once you 
 encroach upon his purse he is all feeling — all sympa- 
 thy. This was peculiarly the case in the present in- 
 stance, for in consequence of the embargo kid on the 
 commerce of Ireland, to prevent Irish produce from 
 reaching the Americans, with whom England was then 
 at war, the merchants became embarressed, the price 
 of farm produce declined in value, and rents could not 
 be paid. Distress soon reached the gentry, and, as 
 their misfortunes were attributable to the English 
 government.it was astonishing how soon the advocates 
 of Protestant ascendency and foreign domination be- 
 came liberals and patriots. Free trade and national 
 independence were now familiar as household words, 
 and the Irish parliament fjr once seemed to act for the 
 good of the country. Government became more and 
 more embarressed. Conciliation was the order of the 
 dav, and lest the people should imitate the conduct of 
 America, every measure calculated to banish anger 
 and ensure gratitude was no sooner proposed than it was 
 acquiesced in. This course was held peculiarly poli- 
 tic, to prevent emigration if not revolt, and it was con- 
 sidered quite as necessary to provide against one 
 as the other, for it was then asserted in the British 
 parliament that the ranks of the American army were 
 filled with expatriated Irishmen, to whose valour suc- 
 cess was mainly attributed. 
 
 The more difficult the lords of the soil found it to 
 collect their rents, the more patriotic they became. 
 Their expensive habits threatened them with new 
 difficulties, and, as they knew net how to retrench, 
 they willingly supported any and every measure which 
 promised to replenish their exhausted purses. The 
 consequence of this was the six months' money bill, 
 which procured for Ireland a free trade. 
 
 Another and a more pleasing circumstance which 
 contributed to the independence of Ireland was her 
 volunteers. For the first time during seventy 3-eara, the 
 Protestants and Catholics were brought together, and 
 had no sooner discovered that ' each and all were 
 men,' and not the wrctchss described hy fanatics and 
 acts of parliament, than bigotry quitted the land, 
 while toleration and good fellowship were invited to 
 supply her place. Politics were then almost the busi- 
 ness of life, and liberal sentiments received a new im- 
 pulse. A restoration of Catholic rights was talktd of 
 as freely as legislative ind pcndcncc, and when the 
 volunteer delegates, to the number of one hundred 
 and forty-three, assembled at Dungannon, February 
 
 15, 1782, they entered into, among others, the follow- 
 ing resolution : — 
 
 ' That wc hold the right of private judgment in 
 matters of religion to bo equally sacred in others as 
 ourselves. Resolved, therefore, that as men and as 
 Irishmen, as Christians and as Protestants, we rejoice 
 in the relaxation of the penal laws against our Catho- 
 lic fellow-subjects, and that we consider the measure 
 to he fraught with the happiest consequences to the 
 union and prosperity of the inhabitants of Ireland.' 
 
 Unhappily, some of the political leaders of the day 
 were inaccessible to such sentiments as these, other- 
 wise the Catholics had not now to ask from a British 
 senate what they had a right to receive from an Irish 
 parliament. 
 
 I remember well the 16th of April, 1782. I arose 
 that morning with feelings which I cannot describe, 
 and regarded that day as one big with the fate of Ire- 
 land. Patriotism had taken such possession of me 
 that I forgot the claims of my family, and, in the anti- 
 cipation of national independence, I flung to the winds 
 everything bordering on a selfish feeling. The love of 
 Rockism was merged in that of my country, as I 
 thought I saw descending the Genius of Liberty, 
 coupled with that of Religious Harmony. I waited 
 with impatience for the assembling of the House of 
 Commons, and succeeded, when the doors were open- 
 ed, in gaining admittance to the gallery. By-and-bye 
 the members began to take their places, and my heart 
 beat a tattoo against my side when I saw Grattan en- 
 ter. A thousand blessings were shov/ered, in mental 
 silence, on his head, and I breathed an anxious prayer 
 for his success. He looked ill — in fact he was so ; but 
 his spirit was superior to matter. The face of Grattan, 
 when he arose to move an amendment to the address, 
 indicated all that fire of genius which he possessed in 
 so eminent a degree. His speech on this occasion was 
 one of the best he ever made — 
 
 ' He (Grattan) was not very old, and yet he remem- 
 bered Ireland a child. He had watched her growth ; 
 from infancy she grew to arms ; from arms to 
 liberty. She was not now afraid of the French ; she 
 was not now afraid of the EngUsh ; she was not now 
 afraid of herself Her sons were no longer an arbitra- 
 ry gentry; a ruined commonality; Protestants op- 
 pressing Catholics — Catholics groaning under oppres- 
 sion — but she was now a united land. Turn, said he, 
 to the rest of Europe, you will find the ancient spirit 
 everywhere expired. Sweden has lost her liberty — 
 England is declining — the other nations support their 
 consequence on the remembrance of a mighty name, 
 but ye are the only people who have recovered it by 
 steady virtue. Ye not only excel modern Europe, but 
 ye excel what she can boast of old. Whenever great 
 revolutions were made in favor of liberty, they were 
 owing to the quick feeling of an irresistible populace, 
 excited by some strong object presented to their senses. 
 Such an object was the daughter of Virginius, sacri- 
 ficed to virtue ; and such the seven bishops, whose 
 meagre and haggard looks expressed the rigor of their 
 suffering; but no history can produce an instance of 
 men like you, musing for years upon oppression, and 
 then, upon a determination of right, rescuing the land. 
 You will find that the supporters of liberty in the 
 reign of Charles the First mi.xcd their sentiments of 
 constitution with principles of gloomy bigotry ; but 
 amongst us you see delegates of the North, advocates 
 for the Catholics of the South, the Presbytery of Ban- 
 gor mixing the milk of humanity with the benignity 
 o( the Gospel— as Christians tolerant — as Irishmen 
 united. This house, agreeing with the desires of the 
 nation, passed the Popery bill, and by so doing got 
 more than it gave, yet foand advantages from gene- 
 rosity, and grew rich in the very act of charity. Ye 
 gave not, but ye formed an alliance between the Pro- 
 testant and the Catholic powers for the security of 
 Ireland." 
 
 As he proceeded in his speech, the feelings of the 
 house were evidently curried awuy, and whco he con- 
 cluded, the burst of applause which followed drew tears 
 into my eyes. 
 
 The address, as amended, was carried, the house ad- 
 journed, and when I got into College Green, the deaf- 
 ening cheers which hailed the patriot literally rent tlio 
 air. Bonfires blazed in all directions, every house was 
 illuminated, and it did indeed appeai: that sonic nc- 
 tional good had been accomplished. The very mob 
 seemed happy, and every lace wore the aspect of joy 
 and gratitude. It was a pleasing sight — pity the cause 
 was so unsubstantial I At the moment, however, 1 
 did not ask to look into futurity, but yielded myself to 
 the national delusion, and, lika others, swelled the 
 popular triumph with shouts of gladness. 
 
 CHAPTEK XVII. 
 
 RETURN TO BOCKGLEN. 
 
 On the 17th of May, 1782, the bill for establish- 
 ing the independence of the Irish parliament was 
 passed, not, however, without having provoked a 
 discussion which showed that the brand of dis- 
 cord had been already flung among the apparent 
 friends of Ireland. Several members insisted that 
 the repeal of the 6th of George I. was not sufiicient, 
 and at the head of the party stood Henry Flood, a 
 man of talents, but of inconsistent conduct. Op- 
 posed to him was Grattan, and the majority of both 
 houses. A more experienced head than mine might 
 have foreseen the consequence of such discussions ; 
 but, at the moment, I was so filled with anticipa- 
 tions of national good that I did not let the subject 
 disturb me. 
 
 A few weeks after this great event, as I was 
 walking down Patrick street, my attention was at- 
 tracted by a crowd, which kept jeering and laugh- 
 ing at some one in the middle of them. 
 
 ' Who is he ?' asked one. 
 
 ' A poor innocent,' replied another. 
 
 ' No, I am not,' said a voice I knew right well ; 
 ' I am Sil Murphy of the hollow, and I'm come for 
 the chieftain's son.' 
 
 At this the people laughed-; and, somewhat mor- 
 tified at the exhibition, I made my way through the 
 crowd, and poor Sil no sooner saw me than he gave 
 a shrill cry of recognition, and, after springing 
 some dozen times, like an opera dancer, from the 
 ground, he slipped a letter into my hands. 
 
 ' Oeh, monuarl' cried the poor gomulagh, 'where 
 was you that you didn't come to poor Sil .> But 
 sure, I've found you, avourneen, at last ;' and, as 
 the creature betrayed his gladness, the mob laugh- 
 ed anew. 
 
 ' There's a pair of them,' said a shoeblack, with 
 all the ease of an acknowledged wit. 
 
 ' Oh, dat dere is,' replied a butcher's boy in the 
 Smithfield cant; 'and, 'pon my soukens, the wiser 
 one is the bigger fool.' 
 
 'Oh, be easy now, Jimmy,' said another, 'sure, 
 he's a gentleman, anyhow, for don't you see he 
 keeps his fool 5' 
 
 ' Ay, and has given him a pair of pattent boots,' 
 said the shoeblack ; ' but he's not long in town, for 
 they don't take de polish, doe dey are a shining 
 pair.' 
 
 ' Yes, yes, Murtha,' replied the butcher's boy, 
 ' dere are more dimons on his shins dan on de lady 
 lieutenant's neck, anyhow." 
 
 ' Oh, be de powers," rejoined the shoeblack, 'you 
 may sing dat ; and warm work he had ob it, getting 
 'em on." 
 
 ' Sassanachs !' cried the gomulagh, as I led him 
 away, ' had I one o" ye in the moor, I"d make you 
 cry wild Irish, ye spalpeens ;" and he flourished his 
 stick in defiance. 
 
 The poor creature was one of those who have 
 just brains enough to qualify them for carrying 
 messages. Sil always went bareheaded and bare- 
 fooffd, and was one of the most expert pedestrians 
 in Munster. On the present occasion he had trav- 
 elled from Rockglen in twenty-four hours, without 
 stopping, and was inquiring for the Coombe, when 
 the blackguards of Patrick street Market collected 
 
372 
 
 IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 »boat him. His joy, on seeing mo so unexpectedly, 
 was unbouncUd, and when we reached my uncle's, il was 
 sometime bi fore his satistaeiion would permit him to 
 eat anything. The letter he brouj;ht me was from my 
 mother, informing me that Cousins had returned to 
 Dublin, and that my father wa.s dangerously ill. She 
 solicited my speedy return, and I tost no time in com- 
 plying with her wishe.i. In half an hour after the 
 receipt of her letter I was on my way to liockglen, 
 aud left the gomulagh to follow me. 
 
 A little beyond Maryborough I met my foster- 
 brother. From him I learned that my father was much 
 better, and was now considered out of danger. Ke- 
 lieved from my apprehensions, I inquired it there was 
 any news. 
 
 ' Musha, no,' replied Owen; 'you had it all to your- 
 self in Dublin, for we've been as dull as sqiaU beer 
 since you Uft us, till ere-last-niyht.' 
 
 ' What happened then ?' 
 
 'The dcnce a much; only the boys made young Mo- 
 lonr, who has taken up his father's trade, take a little 
 exercise upon your newly-invented saddle." 
 
 ' Good God 1' said I, 'it cannot be possible.' 
 
 'Faith, it's true enough,' returned Owen; 'and 
 rich ho desarv'd it, or ' the divil a cottoner in Cork.' 
 Musha, didn't he, himself, go to widow M'Cann's, 
 and drive away her muil cow, though she hadn't 
 another beast in the world that could give the children 
 milk for the praties, and all for [a bit of tithe, that she 
 would pay, if left alone to herself ? But by the 'ghor' 
 we put a stop to his gallop. We met him as he was 
 going to the pound with the poor creature, and just 
 axed him wouldn't he be easy. 'No, nor the divil a 
 bit,' says he. ' Then you must,' says we. ' But I 
 musn't says ho; and so one word borrowod another, 
 until Paddy Purcell, of the 'boughereen,' cot him, and 
 whipped off his coal; another his waistcoat, and 
 another his breeches, and so prepared him to mount. 
 He fought like a lion; but all wouldn't do. We ketched 
 limping Brine's colt, and having fixed a soft saddle 
 made of a scough, we made him mount, and away he 
 went, for all the world like a 'shiderrow ' on a windy 
 day. Ha, ha, ha, how the people of Ballyragget did 
 laugh, sure enough, to see him like a ghost flying 
 through the town ! Here,' he continued, pulling out 
 a piece of paper, 'is a picture of it, which Tim Hou- 
 langhan the painter drew, and it's mortual like, every 
 body says.' 
 
 ' Well,' I asked, 'what become ofMolony?' 
 
 ■ Oh, musha, God knows,' he replied. ' He wasn't 
 hurt, anyhow, for he's gone to get warrants for us all ; 
 but I'd like to see the man who would come to take 
 us.' 
 
 Pained as I was by Owen's account of this outrage, 
 I could not much blame him. I had myself set him 
 the example, and he was yet ignorant of the political 
 evenUi which had just taken place. Resolved, how- 
 ever, to put a stop to such proceedings in future, I 
 commenced reading a moral lesson to Owen on the 
 nature of civil allegiance, and the duty all men were 
 ander to keep the peace. My labor was thrown away, 
 for my foster-brother did not, or would not, understand 
 me. 'Oh, by the powers,' said he, 'all that maybe 
 very true, but you see 1 haven't much laming, and 
 knows nothen about it. One thing I know, however, 
 that cows, far away, have long hours; and, bcggcn 
 your pardon, Decimus, I'll believe nothen till I can 
 see. The sassanachs hate us and all we have, and 
 how can they do anythmg that would make us happy? 
 Aren't they ministers, and judges, and great grand fel- 
 lows? and do you think they would let us bo grand 
 fellows too ? Oh, be easy, now, and don't be after per- 
 suading us that the kite will protect chickens, or mice 
 bees. Troth, the moon isn't made of green cheese, 
 nor sassanachs of Christian flesh and blood.' 
 
 I found it was useless to contend with his prejudices, 
 and so mounting his horse, and leaving him to itelk, I 
 proceeded to Rockglen. I found my father able to sit 
 np in his chair; but, to my great disappointment, he 
 was as incredulous as ever resping the anticipated 
 beneflts of national independence. 
 
 ' I can't blame you, boy,' said he, 'since I see older 
 heads similarly alfected. A nation free, and five-sixths 
 of her inhabitants in chains ! A naiiuiiiil parliament, 
 and five-sixths of her people incapable of voting for a 
 representative ! But, never mind, Decimus, come tell 
 us your adventures in Dublin.' 
 
 [To be continued.] 
 
 HERCULANEUM AND POMPEII. 
 
 The following particulars of the ciestruction of Hcr- 
 culaneum and Pompeii — the former laid under a leaden 
 covering of lava, and the latter immersed in an ashy 
 grave of pulverized matter, may not be uninteresting or 
 useless to some of our readers. Those sepulchred re 
 mains of Roman splendor which give us a knowleg of 
 a true Roman city, with its temples, palaces, and baths 
 — theaters and amphitheaters — its splendid forum — its 
 triumphal arches — its Doric, Corinthian and Ionic 
 columns — its pilastered halls and peristytcs — its fres- 
 co walls and friezes. 
 
 Pompeii and llerculaneum are situated very near 
 the burning Vesuvius — the former five miles distant 
 from it — the latter much nearer, and it is owing to its 
 approximation that HercuUneuin suffered so severely, 
 and received the worst effects of this fearful visitation, 
 the full force of its destructive wrath — being complete- 
 ly envolved in an impenetrable mass of lava — while 
 Pompeii was, by its greater distance and its elevated 
 situation, buried only beneath clouds of ashes and 
 showers of molten stones (called lapille) and cinders ; 
 but these fell in such vast volumes that they obscured 
 the light of day — and it may be attributed to this cir- 
 cumstance that Pompeii is much easier of excava- 
 tion than Herculaneum, yet it takes about a year to 
 disinter one house, for the vapouring stream which 
 proceed from the crater of the volcanic Vesuvius, 'des- 
 cending in torrents of rain united with the ashes sus- 
 pended in the air, washed them after they had fallen 
 into places where it could not well have penetrated in 
 a dry state,' filled up every cranny, and left perfect 
 casts of whatever substances it enveloped. 
 
 ' There it found 
 The myriad fantasies of hearts and brains, 
 Young lovers, and hopes, and pleasures, all abroad, 
 Spreading their painted wings, aud wantoning 
 Inlile's glad summer breeze, from flow'r to tlow'r, 
 And, with the fatal spell of one dread glance, 
 Blighted them all !' 
 
 The air was still at the time of the first indications 
 of an eruption, a cloud of smoke mounted up straight 
 from Vesuvius, and spread itself about, which Pliny 
 the younger, who was an eye witness, compared to the 
 trunk and branches of an enormous pine tree, but some 
 clearer indications of the coming storm was soon given, 
 — dreadful murky clouds saturated with ' igneous ser- 
 pentine vapor,' rose about them — and parted at the 
 same time with lightning-like trains of fire; ' the vital 
 air was changed into a sulphurous vapor, chargedjwith 
 burning dust,' and the heat which accompanied the 
 showers of volcanic scori;c was ' sufficient to char 
 wood, and volatilize the more subtle part of the ashes' 
 — add to this, the darkness which overspread the city, 
 'not,' says Pliny, ' like a cloudy night, or when there 
 is no moon, but of a room when it is shut up, and all 
 the lights extinct.' Nothing then was to be heard but 
 the shrieks of women, the screams of children, and the 
 cries of men; some calling for their children, plhers for 
 their parents, others for their husbands, and only di.s- 
 tingnishing each other by their voices; one lamenting 
 his own fate, another that of his family; some wishing 
 to die for the very fear of dying; some lifting up their 
 hands to the gods; but the greater part imagining that 
 the last and eternal night was come, which was to 
 destroy the gods and the world together. 
 
 Pompeii was evacuated in all the hurry of a precipi- 
 tate retreat — what a scene ! Every person and thing 
 thrown into the utmost confusion, darkness surround- 
 ing them — the prisoners in the jails craving to be re- 
 leased. That such a frightful scene did take place, is 
 evident from the state in wliich the town is found on 
 excavation. Human skeletons and honsehoold utensils 
 
 in the greatest disorder i)resented themselves to the 
 eyes of the miners. The bones of a sentinel were dis- 
 covered outside the gate of the city in a niche in the 
 wall, still on his post, and grasping even in death his 
 spear. But the most affecting and melancholy instance 
 of it is, the shin hones of the inmates of the prisons 
 still iu the iron shackles that bound them at the time 
 of the evacuation of the city, after having endured an 
 incarceration of Ui76 years. Another striking instance 
 of the shortness of the notice this ill-fated people re- 
 ceived is exhibited 'in the forum, opposite to the 
 temple of Jupiter, a new altar of white marble, ex- 
 quisitely beautiful, and apparently just out of the hands 
 of the sculptor, had been erected there — an enclosure 
 was building all round; the mortar just dashed against 
 the side of the wall, was but half spread out; you saw 
 the long sliding stroke of the trowel about to return 
 and obliterate its own tracks — but it never did return I 
 the hand of the workman was suddenly arrested, and, 
 after the lapse of 1800 years, the whole looks so fresh 
 and new, that you would almost swear the mason was 
 only gone to his dinner and about to come back imme- 
 diately to smooth the roughness.' How feelingly does 
 this remind us of the confusion that rsigned in the city; 
 the noise is heard, and the people shout that Vesuvius 
 is pouring on them its red hot cinders — the sound is 
 re-echoed from street to street, the mechanic catches 
 the alarm, casts away his trowel, and flics. To such 
 an extent did fell destruction operate on Pompeii, that 
 where it stood was a mystery, its site was unknown 
 for ages, till chance brought it again to light. 
 The first indications of ruins were observed in 1C89; 
 but the excavations did not commence till 1755. It 
 thus lay from the year A. D. 79 sealed up. It, how- 
 ever, on this account, escaped the ravages and plunder 
 of the barbarian hordes who from time to time swept 
 over Italy, and annihilated every work of art that their 
 destroying hands could reach. It now appears to us, 
 as it was 1800 years ago — the pictures still against the 
 walls, exhibiting all their original freshness of tint; the 
 domestic furniture, pots and pans scattered about in 
 the hurry of use. 
 
 The area of Pompeii is about 161 acres, the excava- 
 ted partis about one-fourth of the city, yet that portion 
 has occupied S3 years. When it is entirely cleared (if 
 we may hope that such will ever be the case,) our 
 knowledge of Roman customs, architecture, habits and 
 literature, &c., &c., will be much increased. 
 
 How awfully sudden was its transformation ! now 
 the ' busy hum of men ' and the rattling of the differ- 
 ent vehicles is heard through the streets, and re-echoed 
 through its lofty temples, domes, and porticoes, all 
 the noise and bustle of civil pride and pomp re- 
 sounds 
 
 'But louder rose the terrible voice of ruin, 
 Over their mirth, 'be still,' aud all was hushed, 
 Save the short shuddering cries that rose unheard, 
 The upturu'd glances from a thousaud homes 
 Thro' the red closing turge I the awful groan 
 Of agitated nature — and beneath. 
 Ten thousand victims turu'd to die — above. 
 Bright sunbeaus lit the plaiu — a nameless tomb.' 
 Yes, in a moment all was still and hushed forever ; 
 the oblivious voice of destruction closed above its un- 
 happy inmates, and shut them at the same time from 
 the light of day and life. All were involved in a com- 
 mon grave. 
 
 Satisfactory. — ' Hallo, boy, did you see a rabbit 
 
 cross the road there just now ? 
 ' A rabbit ?' 
 
 ' Yes ! be quick ! a rabbit !' 
 ' Was it kinder gray varmit ?' 
 ' Y'es ! yes !' 
 
 ' A longish cretcr, with a short tail ?' 
 ' Yes, be quick or he'll gain his burrow.' 
 • Had it long legs behind, and big ears.' 
 ' Y'es ! yes ! ' 
 
 ' And sorter jumps when it runs ?' 
 ' Y'es, I tell you; jumps when it runs !' 
 ' Well, no I haint seen such a creter about| 
 
 here.' 
 
HUSH MISCELLANY. 
 
 373 
 
 THE THRUSH. 
 
 Amongst the most beautiful of Ire- 
 land's singing birds, the thrush, the 
 linnet and the lark may he consider- 
 ed the trio. The song of the thrush 
 is unquestionably superior in power 
 and clearness, though not in vaiiety, 
 to that of any warbler. The nightin- 
 gale, heard in the depth of groves, and 
 during the soft and balmy stillness of 
 a summer's night, may have in it more 
 of romance ; but there is a bold, natu- 
 ral and free feeling of rustic vigor, en- 
 joyment and endurance about the 
 thrush which gives it a more true and 
 hearty welcome in all parts of the 
 country. The thrush is especially one 
 of the birds of plenty : its blithe and 
 varied song is seldom heard amid deso- 
 lation ; and if you hear a thrush you 
 have not far to go before you come to 
 a human dwelling. Wherever the 
 thrush may be, he soon gives delight- 
 ful indications of his presence, and 
 with the return of the morning he 
 mounts the topmost branch of some 
 tali tree, and though his song is com- 
 posed of but few .notes, they are so 
 clear, distinct and mellow, that it is 
 impossible to hear them without de- 
 light, as they gradually rise in strength 
 and then fall away in gentle cadence, 
 becoming at length so low as to be 
 scarcely audible. The prelude, or 
 symphony to its song resembles 
 tonguing of a German flute, and sometimes the tink- 
 ling of a small bell; the whole song consists of five or 
 six parts, the last note of each of which is in such a 
 tone as to leave the conclusion evidently suspended ; 
 the finale is finely managed, and with such charming 
 effect as to soothe and tranqualise the mind, and to 
 seem sweeter and mellower at each successive repeti- 
 tion. 
 
 i said, ' the double 
 
 A MONKEY AND HIS TORMENTOR. 
 
 In the jungles about Tillicherry, there is a large 
 species of monkey, frequently tamed by the natives, 
 and at a village a short distance from this celebrated 
 sea-port, we had an evidence of the remarkable sa- 
 gacity of this animal. A few yards from the house 
 of the person to whom it belonged, a thick pole, at 
 least thirty feet high, had been fixed into the earth, 
 round which was an iron ring, and to this was a 
 strong chain of considerable leng'ii, fastened to a 
 band round the monkey's body. The ring being 
 loose, it slid along the pole when he ascended or 
 descended. He was in the habit of taking his sta- 
 tion upon the top of the bamboo^, where he perched 
 as if to er.joy the beauties of the prospect around 
 him. The crows, which in India are very abun- 
 dant and singularly audacious, taking advantage of 
 his elevated position, had been in the habit of rob- 
 bing him of his food, which was placed every morn- 
 ing and evening at the foot of the pole. To this he 
 had vainly expressed his dislike by chattering, and 
 other indications of his displeasure equally incfiec- 
 tual ; but they continued their periodioal depreda- 
 tions. Finding that he was perfectly unheeded, he 
 adopted a plan of retribution as effectual as it was 
 ingenious. 
 
 One morning, when his tormentors had been 
 particularly troublesome, he appeared as if serious- 
 ly indisposed ; he closed his eyes, dropped his head, 
 and exhibited various other symptoms of severe 
 suffering. No sooner were his ordinary rations 
 placed at the foot of the bamboo than the crows, 
 watching their opportunity, descended in great 
 numbers, and, according to their usual practice, be- 
 gan to demolish his provisions. The monkey now 
 began to slide down the pole by slow degrees, as if 
 the effort was painful to him, and if so overcome by 
 
 THE IRISH THRUSH. 
 
 indisposition that his remaining strength was 
 scarcely equal to such exertion. When he reached 
 the ground, he rolled about for some time, seeming 
 in great agony, until he found himself close by the 
 vessel employed to contain his food, which the 
 crows had by this time well nigh devoured. There 
 was still, however, some remaining, which a soli- 
 tary bird, emboldened by the apparent indisposi- 
 tion of the monkey, advanced to seize. The wUy 
 creature was at this time lying in a state of ap- 
 parent insensibility at the foot of the pole, and close 
 by the pan. The moment the crow stretched out 
 its head, and ere it could secure a mouthful of the 
 interdicted food, the watchful avenger seized the 
 depredator by the neck, with the rapidity of thought, 
 and secured it from further mischief. He now be- 
 gan to chatter and grin with every expression of 
 gratified triumph, while the crows flew around, 
 eawina in boisterous chime, as if deprecating the 
 chastisement about to be inflicted upon their captive 
 companion. The monkey continued for a while to 
 chatter and grin in triumphant mockery of their 
 distress ; he then deliberately placed the captive 
 crow between his knees, and began to pluck it with 
 the most h umorous gravity. When he had com 
 
 rWHAT'S IN A KISS. 
 
 ' Mother, mother, kiss I ' pleaded a 
 little cherub hoy, with blue eyes, anx- 
 iously searching his mother's unusual- 
 ly serious face, as she tenderly laid 
 him upon his soft, warm bed, and lov- 
 ingly fold'sd the snowy drapery aSout 
 him. ' Do kiss me, mother ! ' and the 
 rosy lips began to tremble, the tear- 
 drops to gather in the pleading, up- 
 turned eyes, and the little bosom 
 heaves with struggling emotion. 
 
 ' My little son has been naughty to- 
 day,' replies the mother sadly ; ' how 
 can I kiss those lips that have spoken 
 such naughty words 1 ' 
 
 Too much, too much! Dutiful 
 mother, relent I The little heart is 
 swelling, breaking with grief; tumul- 
 tuous sobs break from the agitated 
 bosom ; the snow-white pillow ia 
 drenched with penitent tears, and the 
 little dimpled hand is extended so im- 
 ploringly. Relent ! 
 
 'Tis enough ! Once more the head 
 is pillowed upon the maternal bosom 
 — once more the little cherub form is 
 pressed to that mother's aching heart, 
 and the good-night kiss of forgiveness 
 and love is given two-fold tenderer. A 
 few moments and the sobbings cease, 
 ' the golden head droops, the weary eye- 
 
 lids close, and the little erring one is- 
 laid back upon his couch, penitent and 
 humbled by one kiss from mamma. What's in a kiss — 
 a simple kiss ? Much, very much ! More potent than 
 the scepter — dearer to affection than countless wealth. 
 Who has not felt its magic influence 1 'Tis the lover's 
 tender pledge of undying constancy ; 'tis a bond of 
 friendship and fidelity ; and not only is it dear to tho 
 youthful and ardent, but also to old age, to tbe wither- 
 ed heart and blooming cheek. 
 
 THE MUSES. 
 
 The Muses are described in mythology as daughters- 
 of Jupiter and Minemosyne. They are believed to 
 preside over poetry, music, and all the liberal arts and 
 sciences, and were generally allowed to be nine in 
 number. 
 
 Calliope presided over epic poetry and eloquence, 
 and is represented as holding a loose-rolled parchment, 
 and sometimes a trumpet. 
 
 Clio was the goddess of history, and is represented 
 holding a half-open scroll. 
 
 Melpomene, the inventress and goddess of tragedy, 
 represented as holding a tragic mask, or bowl and 
 dagger. 
 
 Erato presided over love, tender and amarous poe- 
 try. She is represented as crowned with myrtle, and 
 
 pk-tely stripped it, except the largo feathers in the lio'ding a lyre in her hand. 
 
 pinions and tail, he flung it into the air as high as I Terpsichore was the goddess of dancing, and is ro- 
 
 his strength would permit, and, after flapping its 1 P'^'*'^'"^** crowned with laurel, and holding a musical 
 
 wings for a few seconds, it fell on the ground with 
 a stunning shock. The other crows, which had 
 been fortunate enough to escape a similar castiga- 
 tion, now surrounded it, and immediately pecked 
 it to death. The animal had no sooner seen this 
 simple retribution dealt to the purloiner of his re- 
 past than he ascended the bamboo to enjoy a quiet 
 repose. The next time his food was brought not a 
 single crow approached it. 
 
 Col. B., of Montreal, formerly of the Essex 
 county militia, is good looking, and a famous 
 dancer,patronizesall the country balls, and 'adores' 
 the rosy-cheeked, unsophisticated country girls. 
 At a late ball, on the frontier, so one who was 
 present says, the gallant colonel approached a 
 blushing damsel, and asked her to waltz, when she 
 replied, 'No, I thank you ; I don't like to waltz, it 
 makes me ptikc' Ths colonel wilted. 
 
 instrument. 
 
 Euterpe, the muse of lyric poetry, appears with a 
 flute. 
 
 Urania, the muse of astronomy, is represented as 
 holding a globe with a rod, with which she points out 
 objects. 
 
 Thalia was the patroness of comedy. She was 
 called ' The Blooming One,' with fair flowing hair, 
 and generally holds a comic mask. 
 
 Polymnia, the ninth muse, presided over singing 
 and rhetoric. She was rcprescalcd veiled in white, 
 holding a sceptre in her Icl'i hand, and with her right 
 raised, as if ready to harangue. 
 
 • Here's to internal improvements,' as Deers 
 said when he swallowed a dose of salts. 
 
 It has been said that pantalooua obtained on 
 credit are breeches of trust. 
 
374 
 
 IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 MA COLLEEN DMAS CRUTHIN NA M80. 
 
 Tho sun o'er llie SInnoy wn« jIilnluR. 
 
 And bil«lilniuK its wnvi-s in tl.fir How, 
 Willie lu Rrloron my brenntnas reolinlDg 
 
 Ma Collucn Ubu» CrutUiu ua mbo. 
 
 6lie knew while a hope was remaining 
 At Oulart, Xew Ro», and Arklow, 
 
 I fought ^or my country's uuchaiug— 
 Ma Coileou dhas C'ruthlD na mbo. 
 
 So, ftir f^om old Ireland to-morrow 
 
 Her tyrants compel me to go, 
 And leave you behind in my sorrow, 
 
 Ma Colleen dhas Crulhiu ua mbo. 
 
 When I find in the laud o^the strauger 
 A home for the love you bestow, 
 
 I'll como back and bear you from danger, 
 Ua Colleen dha« Cruthiu ua mbo. 
 
 Then Fate shall no longer us sever 
 Our days will iu happiness dow, 
 
 I'll cherish and love you forever. 
 Ma Collceu dhas Crutin ua mbo. 
 
 But when there's a chance of redressing 
 T 16 rwongs of my country, 1 know 
 
 I'll bring to her battle your blessing. 
 Ma Colleen dhas Crulhiu na mbo. 
 
 MY CONSULSHIP. 
 
 ROME AND POPE PIUS THE NINTH. 
 
 BY C. ED WARDS LESTEK. 
 
 [Continued.] 
 
 The pageant of the coronation passed away, and 
 for thirty days Home saw little of her prince. He 
 shut himself up in his palace, and telling his people 
 in a proclamation to ' wait and hope,' he began to 
 examine for himself into the state of his kingdom. 
 
 He ordered every man who held an office under 
 the government to stand at his post, and do his 
 duty till further notice. This kept the complicated 
 machine of government in motion, and carried with 
 it an imitation not likely to be disregarded by those 
 who were interested In any department of the ad- 
 ministration. 
 
 He ordered all judicial and police processes 
 againt political criminals to be suspended in every 
 province of the state. 
 
 He called to his aid many of the ablest and best 
 men in Rome, and assigned to each a definite work 
 to do. 
 
 Some were ordered to examine the cart loads of 
 petitions and memorials which had been accumu- 
 lating for fifteen years, unread — others to trace the 
 origin and progress of civil and criminal prosecu- 
 tions — some were sent to visit the prisons where 
 murderers, debtors, authors, an«t patriots, were 
 huddled together promiscuously in foul apartments 
 — others to e.\amine into the advantages and ob- 
 stacles, the routes and means for railways — some 
 had commissions for visiting hospitals, asylums, and 
 all kinds uf charitable institutions — and others were 
 intrusted with an inquiry into the causes and his- 
 tory of brigandage, in.surrection, outbreaks, and 
 popular discontent. In fact, the whole state was 
 subjected to the surveillance of a regiment of keen- 
 sighted, honest reformers, who were as deeply in- 
 terested as Pius IX. himself in detecting abuses and 
 corruption. Each one was provided with a special 
 passport, which opened to the bearer every door, 
 bolt, gate, and archive of the state. They had their 
 private instructions. They knew the man they 
 were dealing with, and they believed that nothing 
 would serve him but the truth. Those men were 
 not likely to be bribed or deceived. Employees 
 of the state were anxious to keep their places, and 
 they soon discovered the tenure by which they held 
 them. These special messengers were ordered to 
 start without delay on their work — to do it as fast 
 as it could be well done, and to present their reports 
 in writing to Pio Xono himself, for in this business 
 he had no confidants. At almost evtrj- hour of the 
 day and night, these heralds of the reformation were 
 
 riding out of the courtyard of the palace, on their 
 way to the provinces. This was the first survey of 
 the Augean stables. Hercules was sure to find 
 work enough to do. 
 
 The drpartment of finance, and that of foreign 
 relations, Pio Nono reserved for his own eye. It 
 was a matter of prime importance to sec what means 
 he possessed, or could manufacture, to carry on his 
 government; and of scarcely less import, to know 
 how far his movements were likely to be embarras- 
 sed by former treaties, despatches, and proctocols. 
 All Italy was hardly more than a fief of Austria, 
 and Lambruschini had so completely sold and bound 
 over his country to Metternich, it was to be feared 
 that Pio Nono might find it dilhcult, if not impos- 
 sible, to pick his way out of the tangled labyrinth 
 of diplomatic relations. 
 
 The archives of the state were laid open to his 
 investigation, and those who for many years had 
 been the paost faithful and sagacious servants of his 
 predecessors, remarked that the eye of Pio Nono 
 seemed to pierce, with illuminated perception, 
 every subject that came before him. His first 
 object was to gain a correct knowledge of the con- 
 dition of his states, and nothing escaped his scru- 
 tiny. He was resolute in working a total change 
 in the policy of the Papal government, and he was 
 equally resolved on taking his own time for doing 
 it. He was well aware that the gaze of the world 
 was fixed steadily upon him, and that his first step 
 in the reformation he contemplated would arouse 
 the suspicion, and probably excite the alarm, of 
 several of the sovereigns of Europe. He was 
 watched, and he knew it. 
 
 The first glance showed him that he had succeeded 
 to a bankrupt state. There was not only no money 
 n the treasury, and a vast public debt weighing 
 down the government, but the resources of the state 
 had been dried up, and its revenues squandered on 
 the prodigal favorites of the past administration. 
 How such vast sums had been expened the books 
 did not show ; but it required no very keen scrutiny 
 to make the discovery. Monopolies, and diffeien- 
 tial and e.xorbinant duties imposed under the pre- 
 text of protection, had almost annihilated commerce, 
 An army of spies, and a vast and expensive system 
 of police had swallowed up the last • baiocco ' of 
 the public treasure, and had the revenue been quad- 
 rupled, it would have all disappeared in the same 
 way, like a stream of pure, abundant water poured 
 upon the bosom of a sandbank. Pio Nono, how- 
 ever, saw a remedy for this appalling evil, and re- 
 solved to apply it at once. Lambruschini's system 
 of police, he immediately dissolved. He introduced 
 the most rigid economy into every branch of the 
 government. Thoroughly imbued with the great 
 principle, which England and other European .states 
 have adopted, to save themselves from financial 
 ruin, he resolved to emancipate the commerce of his 
 states. To the first comissiou he appointed to con- 
 sider the subject of commercial reforms, he said — 
 ' I have long been of opinion that the only protec- 
 tion commerce requires is liberty ; that the secret 
 of a large revenue has been discovered in moderate 
 duties." With this grand principle, which is now 
 believed by the mo.st illustrious statesmen of Europe 
 to lie at the bottom of all sound systems of finance, 
 they began their work. 
 
 It was not long before the confidential commis- 
 sioners of Pius began to crowd in with their re- 
 ports, and they were at once admitted to his 
 presence. If they were satisfactory, their authors 
 were dismissed with presents, and the thanks of 
 their prince, or dispatched on some other business. 
 If they were deficient in facts, or superficial in 
 observation, they were sent back to do their work 
 over. 
 
 The new Pope was now determined to avail him- 
 self of all the aids he could, and he appointed a 
 congregation of six Cardinals on the 30th of June, 
 
 to assist him in his investigations, and the adminis- 
 trniion of public nffuirs. About the same time, he 
 suppressed the military commissions of Komagna. 
 He conferred the order of the Knighthood of St. 
 Gregory the Great on three celelirated men of 
 science, llachetti, the professor, Salvatore Uetti, 
 and Professor Venturoli, who had won unequalled 
 reputation iivthe science of Hydraulics. Pius also 
 declared his intention to aid and protect the Roman 
 Academy of the Lincians, and also to extend his 
 favor to the Scientific Congresses of Italy. 
 
 In the choice of the congregation of Cardinals, he 
 showed what was for a considerable time conspicu- 
 ous in all his acts — perfect independence and con- 
 summate prudence. Wacchi, sub-dean of the 
 Sacred College; Bernetti, Chancellor of the Komaa 
 Church ; Cardinals Amat di San Filippo e Sorso, 
 and Mattci,one of Gregory's Secretaries of State, and 
 an other personage, whose appointment astonished 
 everybody except the few who understood how 
 useful a captured spy may sometimes be made in 
 an assault upon the enemy's camp— the worthy 
 Signer Lambruschini. But the great Cardinal 
 Gizzi was also one of the congregation, and there 
 was no very alarming probability that Lambruschini 
 would attempt to trifle seriously with that gentle- 
 man. 
 
 Bnt while the overwhelming cares of his kingdom 
 were pressing on the brain of Pio Nono, and his 
 heart was aching for his many thousand children 
 sighing in dungeons, or in exile, for the day of their 
 release or return — when the multitude of strong- 
 minded and resolute men, in his service, had gone 
 to ther beds anxious and weary, and no sound 
 could be heard along the passages of the Quirinal.but 
 the tread of the night-sentinel — in a distant cham- 
 ber sat a man who ruled the Catholic World. He 
 had been twenty hours by that table, in intense, 
 distracting labor: but his head was cool and clear, 
 his heart was warm and full of humanity. Noth- 
 ing could disturb the equanimity of his spirit; noth- 
 ing could interrupt the cheerfulness of his conver- 
 sation; nothing could confuse his brain; and noth- 
 ing could bend him from his inflexible purpose. 
 
 Such was the position which Pius IX. then held; 
 were the many and generous purposes he then en- 
 tertained; such were believed by all men to be the 
 motives by which he was moved, a_d each were 
 the high and and pure resolutions with which he 
 began to address himself to the herioc task of recon- 
 stfucting a decayed civilization. 
 
 Although this seems now somewhat apocryphal, yet 
 other causes we shall hereafter speak of, changed the 
 character, as well as tho policy of the Pope. 
 
 Soon after the return of the Abbe Mastai (now Pius 
 IX.) from his mission in South America, in 1825,as he - 
 was passing through one of the less frequented streets 
 of Rome, he saw a spectacle which, however unworthy 
 of a civilized country, has been but too common ia 
 every part of Italy, and in other portions of the world 
 which boast of a higher form of civilization. 
 
 A young man of seventeen years, accused of con- 
 spiracy against the state, and condemned to die, was 
 walking, firmly and calmy, to the place of execu- 
 tion, surrounded by all those tigns of ignominy which 
 Christian governments have invented, to insult tho 
 departing souls of their murdered citizens. Struck 
 with the heroic firmness of the young Brutus, as he 
 went to his fate, Mastai stopped, and, calculating the 
 time the condemned would be dcialncd in the Death 
 Chapel, listening to the riles of a religion just to bo 
 outraged, the Abbe rushed towards the Vatican, as 
 though he were fleeing to savo his own life, and not 
 that of a younger stranger. He passed the doors of 
 the palace, and Hung himself at the feet of tho sover- 
 eign, and prayed the good old man to have mercy on 
 the boy, and at least commute his sentence of death 
 into impronment for life. The venerabl.; Pontiff loved 
 Mastai, and the boon was granted. He hastily wrote 
 an order. The Abbe seized it, and, kissing the feet of 
 the Pope, rushed from the Vatican, and fl^w to the 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 375 
 
 (aoo of execution. He cnme, breathless and fainting, 
 ns the beautiful boy was about being launched into 
 the future world. 
 
 ' Hold, ixecutioncr,' ho cried ; 'I bring a pardon 
 from the Pope.' 
 
 The bov, who had not yet shed a tear, nor felt a 
 muscle quiver, sprang into the arms of the Abbe, and 
 they wept together. After long years they were to 
 meet again, under circumstances still mom aitecting, 
 as the following narrative will show. Tho Abbe re- 
 membered his name, and the dungeon to which howas 
 conducted. 
 
 Perhaps, among the many thousand young men 
 who were buried in the murder-ground prisons of tho 
 Koman States before and at the time Pins IX. came 
 to the throne, no one had sutfered longer, more steadi- 
 ly, or more mercilessly than a prisoner named Giova- 
 nini. For more than twenty years he had been buried 
 alive in one of the terrible secrets of the Castle of St. 
 Angcio — the Bastile of Rome — for no other crime than 
 having dared, in bis boyhood, to hope for the libera- 
 tion ot his country. He belonged to a family of rank 
 in Rome; bat neither the wealth nor influence of his 
 father could procure his release. Ho could not even 
 see bis boy ; nor could a letter from his affectionate 
 mother reach him. Politii^al offences were the only 
 crimes for which men could not buy their pardons in 
 Rome. 
 
 Not a ray of heaven's blessed light, not a word of 
 intelligence from his family, had reached him for nearly 
 aquarter of a century. How many of his friends were 
 dead ; how many Popes had ascended the throne, and 
 gone to their account ; what was going on in the world 
 of living men — he could not tell. How many jears 
 even he had been immured in that terrible dungeon 
 he did not know with certainty, for he had no means 
 of marking the progress of time; and this was, perhaps, 
 (strange as it may at first seem to one who never 
 thought of it,) the bitterest of all his miseries. He 
 could, indeed, tell when the day ended, for he could 
 hear the thunder of the evening cannon from the 
 towers of the castle, and he could calculate for some 
 weeks the days, and for some months the weeks. He 
 even thought he kept his reckoning for several years. 
 But at last bis memory became clouded, and all the 
 days, and weeks, and years, blended dimly together, 
 like one interminable expanse of dark ocean, where 
 there is no sky, no star, nor horizon, nor landmark to 
 measure from. Days, weeks, months, and years 
 moved slowly, dimly, sullenly away, and he could cal- 
 culate the moment only by the beatings of his heart, 
 and the hours only by the recurrence of hunger or 
 sleep. 
 
 Over this dark and interminable sea of time (which 
 seemed time no longer) he had been drifting — how 
 long he could not tell ; but so long, he had became an 
 old man, and he remembered that when he crossed the 
 draw-bridge of that terrible castle, and cast his last 
 long look on the calm blue sky, he was a boy. Hope 
 had long ago left him — if indeed it ever can quite die 
 in a human soul, and all other thoughts, and feelings, 
 and desires, were blended in one long, eternal, fruit- 
 less wish to die — when the iron bolts of his dungeon, 
 unused to move, sprung back with a shackling creak. 
 The prisoner started from his torpor, and a cowled 
 monk slowly entered with a torch in his hand. The 
 hali-blinded wretch turned his haggard, unshaven face 
 on the visitor. 
 
 ' What dost thon want here V he could hardly ntter 
 in an unearthly voice. 'Dost thou come to take me 
 to the gibbet 1 Oh ! how welcome thou wouldst be ! 
 But then my enemies could no longer count tho .hours 
 of that agony which cannot die. More cruel than tho 
 hanghman, they have robbed me of liberty to die. And 
 did they send thee, too, here to feast thy eyes, and 
 glut thy heart over the sight of my eternal despair ^ 
 Answer me, monk V 
 
 ' I come to bring thee news of thy mother.' 
 
 ' My mother !' exclaimed the prisoner, aa he began 
 to tremble and rub his hand hard over his forehead, as 
 if to clear away some thick cloud that hung thctp— 'My 
 
 mother ! Tell rae if I may die then at last, and I shall 
 see her in Heaven.' 
 
 ' She still lives, and it is she who sends mo to bless 
 thco, and bring thee hope.' 
 
 Oh ! bless me then, Father,' the feeble pvi-soner 
 cried, as ho dragged himself to the feet of tho monk, and 
 bent hii head. 
 
 ' And I do bless thee,' answered the monk, in a 
 trembling voice, ' in the name of the God of mercy, 
 who pardons the guilty and avenges tho innocent. I 
 bless thee, too, in thy name of thy mother.' 
 
 ' God then has pitied me at last,' sobbed out the 
 poor man, 'for he sends me his angel of consolation,' 
 — and the good monk raised him from the stone floor, 
 and folded him in bis arras as they wept together. 
 
 The prisoner then told the monk his dungeon his- 
 tory, as uo one else could relate it. 
 
 ' Thou shouldst have written to Gregory,' said the 
 monk, 'and ask justice if not mercy.' 
 
 'I did. Father ; but my letters he never saw, or ho 
 could not answei them. I did not ask life, nor liberty; 
 but only a kiss from my mother.' 
 
 ' Write again to the sovereign, my son.' 
 
 ' Ah ! my letter would be intercepted before it reached 
 Gregory.' 
 
 ' Gregory is no more ! write to his successor !' 
 
 ' He would never receive it. The hatred of my in- 
 visible enemies would shut his eyes, and ears, and heart, 
 against me.' 
 
 ' Perhaps, it might be so — but — ' 
 
 ' Oh, Father, it is surely so.' 
 
 ' But be assured, my son — Pius IX. is a kind-heart- 
 ed man — and he has promised justice to all his people 
 — write to him.' 
 
 ' Who will take the letter?' 
 
 ' The jailer of the castle.' 
 
 ' No, Father ! I have no money, and such services 
 cost dear in this place.' 
 
 ' Then will I deliver it to him myself — write.' 
 
 ' Impossible, Father. I have neither pen, ink, nor 
 paper, — all these cost dear in St. Angelo.' 
 
 ' Here is a pencil — write on this leaf of my book — and 
 be quick, my son, for my hour is nearly up.' 
 
 The monk held the torch over the prisoner as he 
 gave him the pencil and tho book — and he tried to 
 write. But in a moment he burst into tears, saying, 
 . Oh ! God, I have forgotten how !' 
 
 ' I will write for thee, then — dictate.' 
 
 Giovanini took the torch, and began : — 
 
 ' Most Holt Father, — 
 
 ' In my despair, one of your monks came and taught 
 me to bless your name. For what seems to me endless 
 years, I suffer in a secret dungeon of the Castle of St. 
 Angelo. All the time I have been awaiting tho hour 
 of execution or reparation — but neither God nor the 
 executioner came to my relief. If I am guilty let me 
 die. If I am innocent, give me back my mother. 
 
 Signed for Giovanini.' 
 
 ' Well,' said the monk, 'before evening, my son, the 
 Pontiff shall have your letter. Adieu — have faith in 
 God, and pray for Pius IX.' 
 
 At this moment the jailer entered. 'By ,' he 
 
 exclaimed, looking at his watch, ' Signer chaplain, 
 yoB was to stay here but an hour, and here you are 
 twenty minutes over your time. Come, hurry off with 
 yourself.' 
 
 'It is you, sir, that's wrong, to blaspheme in this 
 manner the name of the Saviour of man. If your 
 prince, the Pope, knew—' 
 
 ' Oh ! damn the Pope and all his crew.' 
 
 ' Again you are wrong, sir. Pio IX. curses no man 
 — ho loves all — what is your name i' 
 
 ' None of your business, lazy priest — out with you.' 
 
 The monk -.hen left the dungeon, and went to the 
 room of the governor of tho castle. He had long been 
 the confidential agent of tho Cardinal Lambrusehini, 
 and his equanimity had been a little disturbed by the 
 downfall of his master, and the introduction of a new 
 'regime.' 
 
 ' Another bore, he ! Well, let him in — come Sig- 
 nor Monk, toll us what you want — and be quick about 
 
 it too — for my hours are counted I suppose, and I have 
 no time for rigmarole.' 
 
 • I come, sir, to demand the liberty of your prisoner, 
 Giovanini.' 
 
 ' You are mad, monk! Don't you know that the 
 Pope is tho only man who can do that V 
 
 ' And it is in his name that I ask it.' 
 
 ' Show me. your proot.' 
 
 ' You shall have it, Signo'".' And taking a pen, he 
 wrote hastily on tho same leaf which contained the let- 
 ter of the prisoner — 
 
 ' 1st. On the presentation of the present order, the 
 governor of the Castle of St. Angelo will immediately 
 open its gates to the prisoner Giovanini ! 
 
 ' 2d. The govervor will porvide for tho surrogation 
 of his chief jailer. 
 
 In virtue whereof, we have this day sign- 
 ed these presents, in our castle St. Angelo. 
 
 • Pius IX.' 
 
 The signature would have been quite useless, if 
 the monk's head had not hitherto been enveloped 
 in a cowl — for when he allowed it to fall back, it 
 revealed the majestic and beaming face of Pius, the 
 Pope and Prince of Rome. The time the governor's 
 face took in going through divers changes is hardly 
 worth mentioning. 
 
 Giovanini had hardly embraced his mother, who 
 nearly died of joy, before he flew to the Quirinal 
 to ask of the Pope the name of his benefactor. 
 
 ' Your benefactor, no !' answered Pius, 'but your 
 Father — come to his arms. It cannot be you have 
 forgotten the young priest whom you embraced so 
 warmly at the foot of the scaffold twenty years 
 ago !' 
 
 ' Oh, God !' exclaimed the exhausted prisoner, 
 ' this is more than I can bear !' and he fell fainting 
 to the floor. 
 
 [To be continued.] 
 
 MITES. 
 
 Mites are those very small creatures generally 
 found in great abundance in decayed cheese. To 
 the naked eye they appear like moving articles of 
 dust ; but the microscope discovers them to be ani- 
 mals perfect in all their members — as perfect as 
 creatures that exceed them many million of times in 
 bulk. 
 
 They are usually transparent. Their principal 
 parts are head, neck, and body. The head is small 
 in proportion to the body, with a sharp snout, and 
 a mouth that opens like a mole's. They have two 
 little eyes, and are extremely quick sighted. If you 
 touch them but once with a pin or needle, you will 
 pereceive how readily they avoid a second touch. 
 Some have six legs, and others eight, which prove 
 that there are different sorts, though in every other 
 respect they appear alike. Each leg has six joints, 
 surrounded with hairs, and two little claws at the 
 extremity thereof, which can easily take up any- 
 thing. The hinder part of the body is plump and 
 bulky, and ends in an oval form, with a few ex- 
 ceedingly long hairs growing therefrom. Other 
 parts of the body and head are thinly set with 
 hairs. 
 
 The female mite lays eggs so small that ninety- 
 one millions and one hundred thousand of them 
 would not be larger than a common pigeon's egg. 
 The young ones come out of the shell with all their 
 members perfect, and though they cast their skins 
 several times before they arc full grown, yet they 
 do not alter in shape. Their eggs, in warm weather, 
 hatch in twelve or fourteen days, but in winter or 
 cold weather, not under several weeks. 
 
 Mites are voracious animals, and will devour hot 
 only cheese, but fish, flesh, fruits, grain of all sorts, 
 and almost everything that is moist, without being 
 over wet ; na) , they may sometimes be seen prey- 
 ing on one another. 
 
 It must be remembered that there are several 
 kinds of mites differing in some things, though in 
 general nature and appearan ee the same. For in- 
 stance, mites in maltdust and oatmeal are nimbler 
 than cheese-mites. The mites among flgs have 
 two feelers at the snout, and two very long horns 
 over them, with three legs on each aide, and are 
 mote sluggish than tliose in malt. 
 
376 
 
 IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 HANCOCK HOUSE, BEACON STREET, BOSTON. 
 
 THE HANCOCK HOUSE. 
 
 The engraving given above exhibits a view of the 
 mansion house of John Hancock, the President of 
 the Congress of Independence, whose bold and man 
 ly signature is so much admired on the charter of 
 American liberty. The building is situated upon 
 the elevated ground in Beacon street, and is built of 
 hewn stone, finished somewhat in the ancient 
 Gothic style. It is raised twelve or thirteen feet 
 above the street. A\Tiile occupied by Governor 
 Hancock, the cast wing formed a spacious hall, and 
 the west wing was appropriated to domestic pur- 
 poses, the whole embracing, with the stables and 
 coach-house, an extent of 220 feet. In those days 
 there was a delightful garden behind the mansion, 
 ascending gradually to the high lands in the rear. 
 This spot was handsomely embellished with glacis, 
 and a variety of fruit trees. From the summer- 
 house was presented a magnificent and picturesque 
 view of the surrounding country, north, east, west 
 and south. In front of this edifice, is the unsur- 
 passed and. far-famed ' Common,' containing about 
 forty-five acres, and completely covered with the 
 handsomest shade trees, where, in the governor's 
 time, • an hundred cows daily fed.' It was then, 
 as now, handsomely railed in, except on the west, 
 where it was washed by the Charles River and Back 
 Bay. 
 
 Upon days of election and public festivity this 
 ground teemed, as it does now on similar occa- 
 isons, with multitudes of every description ; and 
 here the different military corps performed, as at 
 the present day, ' their stated exercise." 
 
 Governor Hancock inherited this estate from his 
 uncle, Thomas Hancock, Esquire, who erected the 
 building in 1737. At that period, the ' court part 
 of the town ' was at the North End, and his fellow 
 citizens marvelled not a little that he should have 
 selected for a residence such an unimproved spot as 
 this then was. 
 
 In the lifetime of that venerable gentleman, the 
 doors of hospitality were opened to the stranger, 
 the poor and distressed, whether native or foreign ; 
 and annually, on the aniversary of the Ancient and 
 Honorable Artillery Company, he entertained the 
 governor and council, and other personages at his 
 bouse. The like attentions were shown to the 
 
 think the suggestion a good one, as the increasing 
 business of the Commonwealth renders the close 
 proximity of the chief magistrate to the capitol 
 necessary for the prompt despatch of public busi- 
 ness. 
 
 same military body by Governor Hancock, who in- 
 herited all the urbanity, generous spirit and virtues 
 of his uncle. 
 
 ' In a word, if purity of air, extensive prospects, 
 elegance and convenience united, are allowed to 
 have charms,' says one who wrote many years past, 
 ' this seat is scarcely exceeded b) any in the Union.' 
 The premises are not entirely as they were. It is 
 true, there is the noble exterior, which the edifice 
 possessed at its erection — nor have any important 
 alterations been made in the interior. The greater 
 part of the flower-garden remains in front, nor do 
 we know of a want of pure air, elegance or conven- 
 ience, in the establishment. But the ' stables and 
 coach-house' are not to be found, and the 'pros- 
 pect,' though still very beautiful, has been mate- 
 rially abridged by the adjacent buildings. 
 
 The garden behind the mansion, glacis, fruit tyees 
 and summer house, have all disappeared. Even 'the 
 high lands,' beyond, have been much reduced, to 
 make room for public avenues and stately dwellings 
 in that part of the metropolis. 
 
 Every governor of the commonwealth, from the 
 time or John Hancock, to that of the present chief 
 magistrate, has been lodged or entertained, more or 
 less, in this hospitable mansion. Indeed, it has 
 a celebrity in all parts of the country, and most 
 strangers, on visiting the capital of New England, 
 endeavor to catch a glimpse of ' the Hancock 
 House.' 
 
 During the past year Governor Banks made 
 communication to the then living representative of 
 the late Governor Hancock, with the view of a fu- 
 ture purchase by the Legislature of the Hancock 
 House, and its transfer, upon the decease of the 
 proprietor, to the Commonwealth. His great age, 
 and increasing infirmities, made it impracticable to 
 enter upon any negotiation for this purpose. His 
 death has been recently nnnounced to the public ; 
 and the Governor now suggests that the Legisla- 
 ture consider what measures may be expedient, as 
 it regards a possible transfer, at some future time, 
 of this estate to the Commonwealth, and recom- 
 mends action on the subject by the Legislature on 
 the birthday of Washington. The governor pro- holds with a modest self-assertion. Butofallaris- 
 poses to make this house the seat of the chief exe- tocracy, the aristocracy of mere flaring wealth, and 
 cutiT»— the ' White House ' of Massachusetts. We nothing else, is the emptiest and silliest. — [Chapini 
 
 NO BABIES. 
 
 A certain doctor became very much enamored of 
 a young lady resident in his town. In due course 
 of time they were engaged to be married. The doc- 
 tor was a strong and decided Presbyterian, and his 
 lady-love was a strong and decided Baptist. They 
 were sitting together one evening talking of the 
 approaching nuptials, when the doctor remarked, 
 ' I am thinking,my dear.of two events which I shall 
 number among the happiest of my life.' 
 
 ' And pray, what may they be, doctor ?' said the 
 lady. 
 
 ' One :s the hour when I shall call you my wife 
 for the first time.' 
 
 ' And the other ?' 
 
 ' It is when we shall present our first-bom for 
 baptism.' 
 
 ' What ! sprinkled ?' 
 
 ' Yes, my dear, sprinkled.' 
 
 ' Never shall a child of mine be sprinkled." 
 
 ' Every child of mine shall besprinkled,' said the 
 doctor, firmly. 
 
 ' They shall be, eh i' 
 
 ' Yes, my love.' 
 
 ' Well, sir, I can tell you,' said she, ' that yonr 
 babies won't be my babies — so then, good night, 
 sir.' 
 
 The lady left the room, and the doctor left the 
 house. The doctor never married, and the lady 
 died an old maid. 
 
 I CAN respect the aristocracy of family, the con- 
 sciousness of blood that has flowed through historic 
 veins, and throbbed under blazoned shields on fields 
 of renown. I can respect the aristocracy of talent, 
 rising above all material conditions in its splendor 
 and its power. I can respect the aristocracy of en- 
 terprise, that bursts all obstacles,and itself earns and 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 377 
 
 TO CORRESPONDENTS. 
 
 * Leam>er.'— The female scxaro cnpablc of tho highest im- 
 
 provements nnd the greatest glory to wliich men can be 
 ndvQiiccd. Sappho's verses were equal to those of Ana- 
 oreon. Queen Semoramis was full as magnificent as Se- 
 sostris. Tanaquilla was as politio as Servius, and Torcia 
 was not inferior in virtue, courage, ondmauliuessof soul, 
 to Brutus himself. The ancient mythologists made Mi- 
 nerva the Goddess, as well as Apolo the (iod, of Learn- 
 ing. Aepasia instructed the famous I'ericles. Cornelia, 
 the mother ofthe Gracchi, instructed both her eons, and 
 enobled them to occupy distinguished positions in the 
 Forum, and Athenias rose to the high position of Queen 
 of the Eastern empire by the force of her learning, 
 though the daughter of an Athenian of humble birth. 
 'M. 11.,' West Concord.— Hardly up to the mark; try 
 again. "We have not received the other communication, 
 nor can we publish anything without the right name of 
 the writer. 
 
 * PATETCK DoTLE,' Fort Tamhill, Oregon Territory. — We 
 
 have written and sent papers to your order. Answer the 
 questions we have asked, and we will try. 
 
 * Lieut. Thomas Grey,' 2d Artillery, late of Fort Monroe, 
 
 Va.— We wait with much anxiety to hear from your old 
 friend and your whereabouts. 
 
 * Milton Place.' — We believe it would be injudicious to 
 
 say anything at this time; but we are entirely with you 
 in sentiment. 
 
 ' F. Kenny,' Woburn. — The state ofthe weather alone pre- 
 vented us £rom being with you. 
 
 'Tom,' Fort Belknap. — Have received the money, and 
 await the order to bind the volumes. 
 
 ' J. S.,' Waterbury.— Our papers were sent as usual. 
 
 * O'RouKKE,' Troy.— Received, and attended to. 
 
 ' J. McReith,' Portage. — Your order has been duly attend- 
 ed to. 
 
 * James McGinn,' San Francisco. — We will have a hun- 
 
 dred volumes bound for you, and await your next letter. 
 ' Shamrock Leaves.'— Study hard and write plain. 
 
 IRISH MISCELLANY, 
 
 THOMAS NEILL , 
 
 PUBLISHER AND PROPRIETOR. 
 
 BOSTON, SATURDAY, JANUARY 22, 1859. 
 
 OLIGARCHY OR DEMOCRACY? 
 
 Blackwoods Magazine is now-a-days hardly en- 
 titled to the consideration it enjoyed when Prof. Wil- 
 son, better known as 'Kit North,' conducted it ; still, 
 whether from its reputation as a ' well of English 
 undetiled' or its unflinching advocacy ot High 
 Church and Toryism, ' Old Ebony ' appears to be 
 sought after to such an extent as to warrant its 
 continued republication on this side of the Atlantic. 
 Scott & C'o.'s reprint of the December number con- 
 tains a sufficiently varied amount of general litera- 
 ture, closing this the eighty-fourth volume with a 
 ferocious tirade, that occupies nineteen solid pages, 
 against the movements of the liberal party in Eng- 
 land, This article is intituled ' Bright Absurdi- 
 ties," the occasion therefor being some addresses by 
 Mr. Bright to his constituents at Birmingham, 
 wherein he urged, what is sadly needed, a modifica- 
 tion of the oligarchy of Britain. The reforms he 
 proposes are merely household suffrage, vote by 
 ballot, and a representation based upon numbers. 
 For suggesting these manifestly equitable measures, 
 the Manchester innovator has incurred likewise the 
 displeasure of the London Times, and consequently 
 several powerful leadcs agains.t incipient justice to 
 the working classes have recently appeared in the 
 ' Thunderer.' John Bright wrote a letter to a Glas- 
 gow meeting of radicals, and at Edinburgh a reso- 
 lution was unanimously adopted in favor of an 
 extension of the franchise in boroughs to all per- 
 sons rated to the poor, in counties to occupiers of 
 £10 houses, declaring that the ballot should be 
 granted, and demanding for Scotland the 40s. free- 
 hold. In these movements there is, to be sure, lit- 
 tle hope for Ireland, as the history of the last three 
 hundred years attests only too plainly that she has 
 nothing but evilto expect from English and Scotch 
 legislation. 
 
 The speeches of the cotton lord are spiced with 
 occasional reference to America, and his laudation 
 of our institutions moves the soul of the Edinburgh 
 reviewer to its utmost depths, a great portion of his 
 space being occupied in portraying to his British 
 readers the existence here of every known evil. 
 His contempt for common people is very noticeable 
 throughout ; for, while his virtuous indignation ex- 
 ceeds all bounds in depicting the condition of the 
 African race held in slavery, he seems, inconsis- 
 tently enough, to regard those beyond the pale of 
 aristocracy as incapable of governing themselves, 
 For instance, he speaks on every page of his cri- 
 tique of the reformer's constituents as the ' gun- 
 makers of Birmingham,' sneers at their ignorance, 
 and affects to believe that if their influence is ever 
 felt in their domestic concerns, anarchy and ruin 
 must immediately follow. On the quarrels of this 
 Tory advocate and John Bright we, however, at 
 present, little feel inclined to dwell. The latter 
 may serve the purpose in England of 'a good enough 
 Morgan,' but in the United States we opine he 
 would be regarded an ' old fogy,' if not an utter 
 impracticable. Blackwood has indulged in calumny 
 of the American people so long that it cannot ex- 
 cite much comment now to find the mouthpiece of 
 a privileged class, who seem never to learn any 
 thing, indulging in taunts against our free govern- 
 ment. In referring to the United States, the writer 
 says the ' election evils,' incident to the British 
 method of electing members of Parliament, ' re- 
 appear in this country in greater magnitude and 
 more repellent form. Corruption is undisguised, 
 intimidation is organized. So common and recog- 
 nized are electoral corruption and intimidation, 
 that they have been the means of introducing new 
 words into the American vocabulary.' ' Mob-man- 
 ners,' this veracious critic] avers, 'reign supreme in 
 the public life of the Union !' The bo wie knife 
 and revolver, he would persuade us, ' are a recog- 
 nized means of redress for real or imaginary wrongs.' 
 The most astounding fact connected with these vile 
 slanders, however, is that American journals are 
 cited as cumulative evidence ! The Scottish Ameri- 
 can Journal, published in New York, afibids un- 
 mistakable evidence of the falsity of Blackwood as 
 to the absence here of toleration. This paper — which, 
 by the way, though only in its second volume, is 
 one of the best of our exchanges — is cited to prove 
 the deplorable condition of the republic — in itself 
 a sufficient refutation, we think, of the language 
 that,for your opinions, ' over one-half of the Union 
 you will be tarred and feathered, and in the halls 
 of Congress you will be caned and horsewhipped ' 
 (vide page 749). The reviewer attaches great weight 
 to the opinions of the Journal ; but it is no new 
 thing in this free country for periodicals to abuse 
 those institutions under which they are obtaining 
 their bread and butter. There is nothing 'remarka- 
 ble' then in these libels, the Albion and other sheets 
 of the most intense British proclivities being in 
 flourishing circumstances. But the unfairness of 
 the Scottish American Journal, in the long extract 
 made by the Magazine, must be patent to at least 
 every American reader. Only think of an editor in 
 New York endeavoring to prove that the ta.\es of 
 the United States are equal to those of Great 
 Britain ! And to substantiate this manifestly ab- 
 surd proposition, he likens the cost of living in 
 New York, not with London, nor Liverpool, nor 
 Dublin, nor Edinburgh— O no! British pride 
 could not brook such a comparison — but with the 
 fourth-rate city of Glasgow ; and this he excuses 
 himself for because Mr. Bright addressed a letter to 
 a meeting in the latter place ! If, as the Journal 
 asseverates, the local taxes ofthe emporium — which 
 of course keeps pace with the augmenting popula- 
 tion — ' are becoming too oppressive to be borne,' 
 how is it that Mayor Tiemann can regard the finan- 
 cial condition of that city as 'sound and healthful ?' 
 
 According to his late annual address, the total per- 
 manent debt on the first of January, redeemable 
 from the sinking fund, was $18,302,129, said debt 
 having been reduced $809,614 within the past 
 year. 
 
 ' Every man has a voice in the government,' 
 therefore, 'a populationjof political loafers has been 
 raised up,' and the reviewer italicizes this and other 
 passages as irrefragible arguments against universal 
 suffrage. It would be easy to reply that it is bet- 
 ter to be ' swindled ' by those whom we place tem- 
 porarily in authority than to be afflicted with heredi- 
 tary kingcraft and its concomitant evils, to support 
 which in royal style, one would think, must cost 
 something. Why, the governor of the most insig- 
 nificant British dependency receives a larger salary 
 than our chief magistrate ; and yet, with these pa- 
 tent facts before them, so wedded are some people 
 to everything British, that, when they enjoy the 
 fruits of republican freedom, they will see no bene- 
 fit to community accruing therefrom — a prejudice 
 equally ridiculous with the Scotchman's, who re- 
 fused to be cured of the itch because it made him 
 'unco thoughtful o' his wife and bonnie Inver- 
 ary.' 
 
 In the article from our New York contemporary, 
 city, state, and federal taxes are jumbled so ludi- 
 crously, that we charitably conclude the writer had 
 not been a sufficient length of time in America to 
 discriminate the most obvious facts. ' The great 
 evil to this country,' he continues, ' is the undue 
 representations of persons, and the non-representa- 
 tion of property !' Here is loyality to republican- 
 ism with a vengeance ! nevertheless, the dissemina- 
 tors of such vile stuff will be taken to the bosoms 
 of our modern • Americans,' whilst the men who 
 spend their lives in thwarting British intrigue and 
 upholding the flag of their adopted country are de- 
 nounced as aliens and the minions of a foreign 
 prince. Consistency, thou art a jewel ! 
 
 We have no hordes of 'non-producers and tax- 
 consumers,' as the Journal unblushingly asserts, 
 and the employment of such language is much more 
 fitted for the meridian of the ' sea-girt isle.' When, 
 therefore, it speaks of ' governing classes ' in Dem- 
 ocratic America, it becomes simply absurd. And 
 as for its advocacy of property representation in this 
 free country, it w^ll find that up-hill work indeed. 
 Until you can alter the fundamental laws of the 
 land, you cannot hope to afflict us with this the 
 legitimate stigma of primogeniture and entail. 
 Why is this relic of feudalism recommended at 
 this late day ? Must its defenders, after having 
 been refuted for the thousandth time, again rtiterate 
 such nonsense ? Does the arguments of Dr. Franklin 
 to exhibit the argument of a like qualification,need 
 now to be repeated ? Some one in the Continental 
 Congress was pressing pertinaciously the claims of 
 property, when Franklin used this felicitous illus- 
 tration of his views : If a man possesses a donkey 
 worth .f 50, he is entitled to vote ; but if the animal 
 dies the owner ceases to enjoy his privilege. 'Now ' 
 urged the philosopher, ' who votes — the man or the 
 donkey !' Only think of Blackwood's Magazine, 
 fearful of the progress of liberal ideas in Great 
 Britain, abusing the Unitsd States, whence come 
 the dangerous examples, and then quoting a Scot- 
 tish American Journal to attest the justness of its 
 invective, and all this in support of a system where 
 out of 5,000,000 adults, not 1,000,000 enjoy the 
 right of suffrage ! In the beginning of his epistle 
 to the Pisos, Horace alludes to a monster of incon- 
 gruity which can only compare with this: — 
 ' .Siijipose a paiuter to a liumau head, 
 Should join a horse's neck, and wildly spread 
 The various plumage ol the lealhered kiud 
 O'erlimba of dilTurent heaets absurdly joiucd' 
 Or, if he gave to view a bcauteout* maid. 
 Above the waist with every charm array'd; 
 Should a foul fish her lower parts unfold, 
 WoufU you not laugh euch piotiuea to behold ?' 
 
378 
 
 miSH MISCELLANY. 
 
 (Written for tlio illsoellany.) 
 
 MY HEART IS IN MV NATIVE LAND, 
 
 BY DARBV UOKBOn. 
 
 My heart is in my native land, 
 Fiir o'er tlie htorniy walerj", 
 Mid ro^y bowers, where fragrant flonen 
 Xlie Quseo of Beauty eeattera. 
 
 Where smiling vaica and verdant dells, 
 Round towers and lofty mountains. 
 
 Blend all their charms, like magic spells, 
 Willi pure and glistening fountains. 
 
 There morning breaks o'er silver lakes, 
 
 In bright cll\ilgeut splendor, 
 That ml between fair hills of green. 
 
 In calm, romantic grandeur. 
 
 As mirrors to the king of light, 
 
 ReHecling back the lustre 
 That sparkles round his throne so bright, 
 
 And ou his bosom clustre. 
 
 How grand to roam that holy isle. 
 And view each charming feature, 
 
 TLat like fome heavenly seroph"s smile 
 Adorns the face of ^'aturc. 
 
 The balmy air wafts perfumed there 
 
 Sw«et us the winds of Eden, 
 O'erpreguaut banks and volleys lair. 
 
 With Xature's gifts o'erladen. 
 
 Oh, would I were a soldier bold, 
 
 I'd seek no grander glory 
 Than fighting, like her sous of old. 
 
 To free that land of story. 
 
 I'd draw the sword with vengeance keen 
 'Cainst tyrants tbat distress her; 
 
 I'd die beneath the flag of green. 
 Or drive out ber oppressor. 
 
 Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1868, by 
 Thomas O'Keill, in the District Court of Massacbusetls. 
 
 REMINISCENCES IN THE 
 
 IF k 
 
 — IX TUE — 
 
 ENGUSH AND AMERICAN SERVICES. 
 BY THOMAS O'NEILL. 
 
 BSDICATED TO OENEKAI, JA.MEa SHIELDS. 
 
 WOUNDED WITHOUT A FIOHT. 
 
 In the year 1S3-, our regiment lay in Cahir, 
 county Tipperary, with some out troops at Limer- 
 ick and Clonmel. Tipperary, at that time, tvas re- 
 markable for what are called agrarian outrages, and 
 many were the fruitless searches, hard night's ride, 
 and long fasting we had to catch the midnight ma- 
 rauders. If the people would but learn to know 
 their strength, all attempts to ke p them slaves 
 would be futile and worthless. Take the following 
 as an instance. 
 
 On a cold, wet erening in the month of Febru- 
 ary, in the above year, a gentleman, holding the 
 commission of the peace, rode into the barracks at 
 Cahir.and.having obtained an interview with the colo- 
 nel, orders were immediately issued for fifty men, in 
 field exercise order, to report forthwith for duty. We 
 started, headed by tliroe or four gentlemen who joined 
 the party, and who were, as we afterwards learned, 
 magistrates. A^ter a brisk tiot of some seven or eight 
 miles.we halted, while several houses were searched by 
 tlie police, without, however, discovering what they 
 sought. We then proceeded to another village, or 
 small town, where tiie magistrates appeared (o glean 
 some information, for, after a short delay, we started 
 oif in another direction, and soon reached a police sta- 
 tion. The magistrates appeared to be astonished on 
 finding the house tcnantless. It wns ascertained from 
 a gentleman, who lived close by, that the police had 
 been attacked, and one of tlieir number was shot, and 
 the remainder hud fled, hiding themselves; being pru- 
 
 dent men, they had, no doubt, read those lines in Hudi- 
 bros — 
 
 ' He tlint flght< and runs away. 
 Will live to light another day. 
 Hut he that's in the battle slain. 
 Will never live to light again.' 
 
 It was now believed that we were on the track of 
 the ' White boys,' the patriots of the day; being recruit- 
 ed by a pint of porter each, given by the Earl of Glen- 
 gall, who was one of the party of gentlemen accom- 
 panying us, we started with ' Woe to the rebels !' Hav- 
 ing scoured the couutrj till morning, we returned to 
 our iiuarters, the magistrates declaring that wo must 
 have passed the rebels in the night, more than once 
 the jingle of our sworJs and tramping of the horses 
 giving them duo notice of our approach. They hid 
 themselves in the mountains until wc bad passed, and 
 thus baffled our vigilance. 
 
 I have frequently wondered since why they did not 
 kill the whole party, for they could have easily done 
 so, the dragoons being utterly inelToctivo in such 
 places as the passes of the Gaultie mountains, particu- 
 larly at nijiht. It is, however, a well ascertained fact 
 that, great as are the suft'erings of the people, they sel- 
 dom desire to sacrifice the lives of soldiers, while, to 
 kill a policeman, is considered a meritorious and pat- 
 riotic act. 
 
 It would seem that they' give the soldier ercdit 
 for doing this kind of work leluctanily, l]clicving that 
 they should be employed in the nobler work of de- 
 fending the country against its foreign foes. But the 
 policeman is a man taken from among themselves, 
 whom they regard as a traitor to his country, and 
 deserving of no mercy at their hands. 
 
 On rpaching home, I was detached with a party of 
 our men and a body cf police. We wended our way 
 up a narrow and crooked road, or boreen. After some 
 two or three miles, we again emerged out upon the 
 high road, and were halted in the ncigliboihood of a 
 small village, while the police were detached to recon- 
 noitre. They soon relumed, and we bad orders to 
 surround a house, which stood alone at the junction of 
 four cross roads. We quietly closed ia to the house. 
 I was advised to vein back again,- c the wall, which 
 I had no sooner done than we found the police had 
 broken into the house, and were resisted by the in- 
 mates. An order for some of our party to dismount, 
 Ijft me alone in the rear of the building, close into the 
 house, that no one might escape. A sudilen crash of 
 glass, and immediately I felt a pitchfork enter my 
 loins, inflicting a triple wound of a dangerous charac- 
 ter. I rode home to barracks, supported by two of 
 my c mrades, an 1 entered the hospital, where I lay 
 for ten months, one of the wounds having very nearly 
 proved fatal. 
 
 A cart was taken from a neighboring yard, and ten 
 men were tied therein, along with three women. It 
 appeared that it was a fine strapping young woman 
 that had stabbed mo with the pitchfork. On finding 
 that her brothers could not escape by the door, she 
 thought of the little window, and seeing that also 
 guarded, she dealt me the almost fatal thrust. I need 
 hardly add that she was transported ; one of the po- 
 lice testified to having seen her give the blow which 
 disabled me. One of the men who were taken pris- 
 oners that night was hung for the murder of a Captain 
 McGuire, which had been committed some time pre- 
 vious. 
 
 IJuring my confinement in the hospital, I read the 
 history of Ireland for the first time without the aid of 
 British spectacles ; I became an Irish nationalist ; 
 hitherto I had belonged to that class of Irish Protes- 
 tants who are not national, and would sooner see their 
 country a miserable, starving province than allow the 
 majority of the people to worship God according to 
 the dictates of their conscience, untaxed by a state 
 I church. Ever since then I hare teen ready to join 
 I any bona fide movement for Ireland s deliverance, for 
 the more I study her history, the more intimately I 
 become acquainted with, and understand the nature 
 and origin of her wrongs, the more intense becomes 
 my faith io her capacity for self-goverumeat, and the 
 
 more ardently I desire to see and aid in her redemp- 
 tion ; I long to see union amongst my countrymen ; 
 union which will give them strength and irresistalilo 
 power — a strength by which ihcy will he enabled, fin- 
 ally, to overthrow the oppressor and exhibit them- 
 selves to the world in their true colors, as a valiant 
 people, and lovers of real national liberty. 
 
 Did every man in Ireland possess the nervo and 
 pluck of that unfortunate young woman, who came so 
 neir 'doing' for me, would they but give each other 
 the right hand of fellowship, and learn to regard reli- 
 gion as purely a matter of conscience, allowing noth- 
 ing to stand between them and th.ii ardent love of 
 fatherland, which they undoubtedly possess, IceUad 
 would be a nation soon, indeed. 
 
 Written for the Irish Miscellany. 
 
 SKETCHES FROM MEMORY. 
 
 nv J. E. F. 
 
 A STORY--STRANCE BUT TRUE. 
 
 Among a ship load of 829 passengers, which reached 
 the port of New York in the full of 1857, from Liver- 
 pool, there could not help being a few whose lives had 
 a touch of the romance, and whose stories seemed 
 'stranger than fiction.' Reader, I heard one, and now 
 record from memory, as near as possible, the tale as 
 unfolded to rae. 
 
 William Rochford was born in a small village in the 
 county of Clare, Ireland, in 1832. His father was of 
 the better cUss of farmers, without being a middle 
 man or agent, and contrived to give his son a good 
 education. When William reached the age of eight- 
 teen, his father sent^im to Miynooth, to prepare him 
 for the priesthood. Here he made rapid advancement 
 in his studies, and bade fair to become ordained at an 
 early age. But tins was not to be. During one of the 
 college vacations, which he usually spent at his father's 
 house, he was casually introduced to a young girl, 
 daughter of a widow, who was a near neighbor of bis 
 father's. The introduction over, they talked on vari- 
 ous subjects, his college life, her country life, bonks, 
 the weather, of course, and William soon found him- 
 self gettmg interested in his new acquaintance, bu' 
 supposed that it would end with the conversation. 
 
 That night his dreams were not of books and col- 
 lege walls, but of a pair ot black eyes, whose depths 
 he was trying to fathom, and he had just received an 
 answer from them, when lo ! be awoke, and found 
 himself a student preparing to take holy orders. That 
 day be informed his fathei of his intention to return 
 to college immediately, giving as a reason that he 
 could devote more time to study during the remainder 
 of the vacation, but really to seek lo dissolve the spell 
 that had, in one short evening, been woven round his 
 heart. 
 
 Time wore apace, and the day drew near when it 
 was expected that William Kochlord would be ordain- 
 ed. The young student struggled hard lo free him- 
 self from the thoughts of one who seemingly could 
 never be aught towards him than an acquaintance, and 
 tinallv gave up in despair. His next step was to in- 
 form his superiors of his utter impossibility to proceed 
 farther in his steps towards the priesthood, telling 
 plainly his reasons for so doing, and wishing his 
 honorable discharge from college. This was grant- 
 ed. But the hardest trial William had to encounter 
 was to inform his parents that he was not to be or- 
 dained, and that they would never have, as they 
 wished and prayed they might, the pleasure of at- 
 tending the divine service of the mass when cele- 
 brated by their son. 
 
 Close on this letter to his parents, he bade adieu 
 to college, and returned home. His father wept at 
 seeing him, but generously forgave him, saying that 
 Heaven willed it so, and his son could not^be 
 blamed. But how fared it with her who was the 
 cause of this change ! 
 
 After coming home on the evening of the ae- 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 379 
 
 qunintimcc, slic 'Icnncd her licnd upon her hand, 
 and silently thought what an ornament the ehurch 
 would have when the student was ordained, and 
 how she would likn to hear the gospel expound- 
 ed from the lips of one so gifted. It was 
 midnight ere she awoke from her reverie, and when 
 she had retired, her dreams were of the collegian, 
 who, she thought, was kneeling by her side, and 
 asking her hand in marriage. Upon awaking, she 
 tried to dismiss the subject from her mind, but in 
 vain, and it was a relief to her when she heard that 
 he had returned to college. 
 
 His reason for leaving college was kept a secret 
 from .ill but his parents, so, when he had returned, 
 various were the causes assigned by the neighbors, 
 none of which were right. By and by, they ceased 
 to think about it, and then did he make known to 
 Ellen Byrne, her who had won his heart, why it 
 was that he did not become a priest. She did not 
 appear pleased, nor yet displeased, but there was 
 something in her mannar which gave him hope, and 
 he felt satisfied with the interview. 
 
 Times began to change, however, with his father, 
 and his property was gradually dwindling away, 
 until, finally, AVilliam saw that he could no longer 
 remain idle, but seek in some manner to aid his fa- 
 ther. America first suggested itself, then the goal 
 to which many of his countrymen were going, and 
 thither he went in a few weeks. It cost him many 
 a pang at parting with his aged parents, to say 
 nothing of the gentle Ellen, who now really loved 
 him, and from whom it was hard to tear himself 
 away. 
 
 He bore a letter of introducticn from one of the 
 professors in the college to a priest in the city in 
 which he landed, but on inquiry he found that he 
 had been dead some time, and, not liking to thrust 
 himself upon others to whom his letter was equally 
 good, he chose to bide his time, unaided and alone. 
 One situation after another was applied for without 
 success:, until, at length, it became apparent that 
 he must find something to do or siarve, being re- 
 duced to his last dollar. 
 
 One morning, as he w^as returning from a useless 
 application for a clerkship advertised in a daily 
 paper, he met a man whom he had known at home, 
 and who had been in America for some years. This 
 man was a laborer at home, and worked sometime 
 for William's father, and right glad was he to see 
 the son of his master. William did not at first 
 make known his situation, but the man soon dis- 
 covered it, and, having a few dollars spared, he 
 offered to pay William's fare and his own to a west- 
 ern state, where trade was at that time brisk, until 
 such time as William would be able to pay it back. 
 This offer, after urgent solicitations, was accepted, 
 and we next find him in business for which he wbs 
 totally unfit, but none the less honorable, that of 
 working as a common laborer on a railroad. Often 
 as he returned at eve from a hard day's work, with 
 a Bun-burnt face and blistered hands, did his 
 thoughts revert to his father's snug fireside and the 
 cottage of the Widow Byrne, where he always met 
 a welcome from the black-eyed Ellen. He had re- 
 peatedly written to them, but had never received a 
 letter in answer, and it pained him to think that he 
 should thus be forgotten ; but he little know the 
 reason, although it was, perhaps, as well that he 
 did not. 
 
 The toilsome work he was engaged in soon made 
 him as hard-fisted as a backwoodsman, and when 
 he had repaid his generous friend, who had succor- 
 ed him when in need, and laid by some money, he 
 left the West for California. Here, after some 
 tin-.c, he bought a claim near Sacramento, and in a 
 few years William Ilochford had fifteen thousand 
 dollars deposited in a bank in San Francisco. He 
 had now sufficient with which to return to Ireland, 
 and make his parents comfortable in their declining 
 days. To be 8ure,there was some one else who was 
 
 to share his hard-earned gains, but yet, by estab- 
 lishing himself in business, he had enough for 
 all. 
 
 Leaving the mines, in company with a compan- 
 ion, he came to San Francisco for the purpose of 
 withdrawing his money. It was at that time that 
 California was passing through the severest crisis 
 she has yet experienced, and, on the very day they 
 arrived, the bank had suspended. This was a se- 
 vere blow to the two miners,one of whom, William, 
 was left, penniless, while the other had yet a thou- 
 sand dollars remaining. But widely different were 
 their after actions. William's companion repaired 
 to the nearest gin-palace, and sought to drown his 
 loss in the intoxicating cup, and so effectually that, 
 at the end of a month, he was a lunatic. William 
 sought andobtaineda situation asporter in a hotel, 
 and, when he had sufficient laid by, returned once 
 more to the mines. This time he made a bank of 
 a leather wallet, which he wore around his waist, 
 exchanging his gold for current bills of the States, 
 and, early in 1857, we find him in the city of New 
 York, twenty thousand dollars richer than when he 
 ariived there from Ireland some years before. 
 Without delay, he engaged passage in a steamer 
 for Liverpool, and, in less than a fortnight, AVilliam 
 Rochford trod the soil of his native island once 
 again. But those with whom he had intended to 
 share his hard-earned money, were not there to 
 welcome him ; they were laid beneath the sod soon 
 after his departure, and his dark-eyed Ellen had 
 gone to England, for she, too, had been left an 
 orphan. 
 
 With a heavy heart, William left his native vil- 
 lage again, after shedding some heartfelt tears over 
 his parent's graves ; but he had the assurance from 
 the neighbors that they did not want for anything 
 before they died, except, indeed, to see their son 
 once more. He learned that Ellen had gone to 
 London with the family who owned the estate on 
 whichher mother lived.and thither William directed 
 his course in search of her. Arriving in London, 
 he soon found out the family.but his Ellen was not 
 then with them. She had left them, and gone to 
 work in a millinery establishment on Pall Mall, 
 since which time they had heard nothing of her. 
 William stayed some time in London in hopes of 
 finding her, and at last was obliged to give up his 
 search. Returning to Liverpool, he was at out to 
 take passage for New York in a steamer, when he 
 met a young man with whom he had become ac- 
 quainted while laboring in the West. This man 
 had secured a second cabin passage in a first-class 
 pacKet for New York, and he soon prevailed on 
 William to accompany him instead of going in a 
 steamer. The vessel left the Mersey on a Thurs- 
 day, and on the following Sunday the passengers 
 were all mustered on deck, while their names were 
 called out by an officer of the ship. William stood 
 talking to the captain, when he heard the name 
 ' Ellen Byrne ' read out and answered to . He 
 thought the voice seemed familiar, and making his 
 way through the crowd, he did not stop till he 
 found the utterer of the name, and it was, indeed, 
 his long lost Ellen. It was hard to tell which 
 seemed happiest afterwards, and no one was more 
 impatient for our arrival in port than William. 
 When the ship landed her passengers, William 
 Ilochford and Ellen Byrne were united in marriage 
 by Ellen's uncle, a distinguished priest of the city. 
 Some twenty miles up the Hudson stands the neat 
 house of William Rochford, and the evening train 
 from New York brings him from his store to his 
 beloved Ellen. 
 
 Why docs not that cable work ?' asked a share- 
 holder of Cyrus Field. ' Why,' replied Cyrus, 
 ' because it (foes not clear the rocks near the coast, 
 I believe.' ■ Indeed ! Well it has easily managed 
 to clear s few out of your pookit and mine. 
 
 FOREIGN INTELLIGENCE. 
 
 By the mrival of the ateamship Africa at New 
 Y'^ork, we are put in possession of our regular 
 foreign exchanges, with Irish dates up to Decem- 
 ber 25. 
 
 ini.L.VND. 
 
 The excitement consequent upon the recent ar- 
 rests is unabated — 
 
 TuE Akhi; sTs is ErLrAST.— The Northern Whig 
 of llonday says ; — 'Up to the hour at which we 
 write (Sunday night), not an additional particular 
 in connection with the arrests of seven days ago 
 can be placed before the public, so far as the move- 
 ments of the authortties are concerned. Both on 
 the part of the crown and the legal advisers of the 
 prisoners, there seems to be an extraordinary desire 
 to abide the events which may turn up in the course 
 of time. Than this, nothing can be more dangerous 
 to the harmony and the peace of the community, 
 and there seems to be, on both sides, a want of con- 
 fidence in the merits of their respective cases. We 
 are informed that Mr. Tracy has personally visited 
 the authorities of Dublin Castle for the purpose of 
 receiving instructions with respect to his future 
 course of action in this case. Provided that this 
 interview has taken place, and provided that a 
 magistrate, conversant with Belfast and Belfast 
 police Ufe,cannot see through this supposed conspi- 
 racy, what useful advice, under any circumstances, 
 may he expect from other parties totally unac- 
 quainted with the town, or the political and reli- 
 gious tone which pervades its inhabitants ? If therj 
 has been a blunder made, as we fear there has been, 
 Dublin Castle is the very last place to seek for an 
 antidote, and we would rather desire to see our 
 local magistracy bearing themselves the burthen of 
 the result, whatever it may be, than appealing to 
 higher authorities, who can know nothing whatever 
 of the circumstances of the case." 
 
 In our last we gave the substance of the conver- 
 sution which took place in the Belfast police court, 
 between Mr. Rea, counsel for the prisoners, and 
 Mr. Traey, the sitting magistrate. It wijl be seen by 
 the following that Mr. Rea has again made another 
 unsuccessful attempt to see the prisoners, and have 
 the trial commence immediately ; — 
 
 In the police court, on Monday, Mr. Rea request- 
 ed the bench to inform him whether the prisoners 
 would be brought into public court, and, if such 
 would be the case, whether Friday next would suit 
 the convenience of the magistrates, as he (Mr. Rea) 
 would not be at home until that time ? 
 
 Mr. Tracy said they would not be brought up on 
 Friday. 
 
 Mr. Rea said that he had seen some things in the 
 papers with regard to Mr. Traey keeping back the 
 investigation. He did not wish to make any appli- 
 cation which would interfere with Mr. Tracy's duty 
 but he thought the magistrates of the place should 
 be present at the investigation, when, perhaps, 
 there might be a division of opinion with regard to 
 the guilt or innocence of the accused, and he 
 thought the investigation should be public, and that 
 as soon as possible. 
 
 Mr. Tracy— I can say nothing further now, but 
 that you shall be informed when the investigation 
 takes place. One thing you may rest certain about 
 — it shall not be in public, for I h»ve not the slight- 
 est idea to cater to public curiosity. 
 
 Mr. Rea — I have no complaint whatever to make 
 of your worship's conduct in the matter. I am sure 
 you would have given me every facility in your 
 power had it been allowable. But 1 have a rifht 
 to ask whether informations have been returned or 
 not. If not, I think I should he admitted to see 
 my clients for the purpose of gett.ng their instruc- 
 tions. It would be altogether unusual, and, I might 
 say, unlawful for prisoners to be committed with- 
 out hearing the defence, if they have a defence to 
 offer. I am also informed that one of the accused 
 is ill of an acute consumptive disease. 
 
380 
 
 IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 Mr. Tracy — The accused shall have plenty of 
 time, I assure you, to get their defence ready. I 
 will not go further in the case now ; but, with re- 
 gard to one of the prisoners being ill of consump- 
 tion, if such really were the case, the surgeon of 
 the jail would have informed me before now. 
 
 Mr. Ilea — The crown have surely had sufRcient 
 time to investigate the matter, and I have a^trong 
 ai'spicion they have failed in their case. 
 
 Mr. Tracy — I cannot tell you whether the crown 
 is prepared or not prepared. But one thing is 
 sure, they will not be pushed into an investigation. 
 It may be in a week, and it may be in three weeks. 
 The power is in my hand to remand any one from 
 one period to another, 
 
 Mr. Ilea — As the relatives of the prisoners are 
 anxious 1 should defend them, will you give me one 
 clear day's notice ? 
 
 Mr. Tracy — I will not bring it on without giving 
 you fair notice. 
 
 Mr. Ilea — You may depend upon it that I will 
 make it more complicated than you imagine, for I 
 do say the prisoners should be protected so long as 
 the Orangemen cease to exist. 
 
 Mr. Tracy — I'he Orange system has nothing to do 
 with it. 
 
 Mr. Rea — I am afraid the British Constitution 
 has gone on a visit to John Bright, for it has not 
 been in Belfast for the last fortnight. 
 
 Mr. Tracy — If certain people in Belfast had their 
 own way, the British Constitution would not be 
 here at all. 
 
 Mr. Rea — Well, we might, perhaps, have as good 
 a one. 1 don't want to trouble you again on the 
 subject, because I don't wish any unnecessary dis- 
 cussion. 
 
 Mr. Tracy — I don't like to appear in the slightest 
 degree uncivil, Mr. Rea j but I cannot give any 
 further answers to your questions. 
 
 Mr. Rea — Oh, I know that, sir ; but I have a 
 very diificult duty to perform. I always think it 
 my duty, in my professional capacity, to act against 
 the crown in Ireland, for I don't think they are do- 
 ing their duty to the public at all, 
 
 Mr. Tracy — That shows a very graceful propen- 
 sity on your part. 
 
 Mr. Rea then left the court, saying he didn't be- 
 lieve there was such a thing as a Phcenix Society in 
 Belfast. 
 
 The Northern Whig says of the consequences of 
 the arrests in Belfast — 
 
 ' We have already said, and we cannot too earnestly 
 and emphatically repeat it, that if these arrests have 
 been an ill-advised movement, no man in Belfast can 
 prophecy the consequences. They have created an 
 amount of political and sectarian excitement which 
 was hardly equalled amidst the great riots of '47, and 
 during the present year. As one of the consequences 
 arising from this excitement, we have reason to be- 
 lieve that, since these discoveries were made in con- 
 nection with the arrests in Mrs. M'Kay's premises, a 
 large increase of members have been entered in local 
 Orange lodges ; and that not only have these arrests 
 saddled disgrace upon the community with which the 
 persons arrested were connected, hut they have in- 
 creased the numbers of a body whose whole system 
 and style is opposed to the peace and harmony of the 
 country.' 
 
 The Investioation at.Coek. — The investigation 
 into the charge against the prisoners confined in the 
 county jail, Cork, commenced on Tuesday, the 2l9t 
 ult. It was held within the precincts of the jiiil, which 
 was guarded by a strong force of police, armed with 
 carbines and bayonets. The investigation was secret, 
 the only persons allowed to see the prisoners being their 
 counsel, Messrs. T. M'Carthy Downing and II. B 
 Julian. The magistrates before whom the investiga- 
 tion was held were Messrs, Davys and Fitzmauricc, 
 both stipendiary magistrates, Sir Matthew Barrington 
 Crown Solicitor, and Mr. Fagan, bis assistant, con- 
 
 ducting the case on behalf of the crown. Mr. Fagan 
 opened the proceedings hy a short statement on hehall 
 of the crown. Mr. Downing applied that a profes- 
 sional reporter bo allowed to take the evidence of wit- 
 nesses, with the understanding that it should not be 
 published in the public journals. The application was 
 opposed hy the crown. After a lengthened discus- 
 sion, the magistrates refused the presence of a re- 
 porter. 
 
 The first witness examined was Daniel Sullivan, 
 the approver, whose direct examination was not over 
 when the cncjuiry was adjourned in the evening at the 
 hour of half past six, and which did not terminate up 
 to an advanced hour next day. He deposed to hav- 
 ing been present at several meetings of the Pha'nix 
 Society, and also to the administration to himself of 
 two oaths by a party after whom an active search is 
 bein;; carried on hy the authorities. The terms of the 
 oath (which ho swore to from memory) were as fol- 
 lows : — 
 
 ' I have something to tell you, which will be a bene- 
 fit to you and the country. 
 
 ' I can tell it to you if you promise to keep it secret. 
 I have promised to keep it secret. 
 
 An oath of secrecy was then ad ministered, after which 
 the following : — 
 
 'I. A. B., do solemnly swear that I will, to the ut- 
 most of my power, endeavor to subvert and overthrow 
 the British government ; that I will join with and as- 
 sist any foreign army who may arrive in this country 
 with that object ; and that I will obey and carry out 
 the orders of my superiors in this society to the best of 
 my ability.' 
 
 The approver swore that he attended a meeting at 
 ' Priest's Leap,' on the borders of Cork and Kerry.and 
 drilled there, where members from Bantry and Ken- 
 mare met, the object of which was to take up arms, as 
 the Americans were expected at Christmas, who 
 would be joined by the French, and Ireland was then 
 to be an independent republic. He also stated that 
 one of the patriots, who went by the name of Shooks, 
 was making the necessary arrangements when the 
 Americans should land. 
 
 On Wednesday the inquiry was resumed, and the 
 direct examination having terminated, the approver 
 was cross-examined by Mr. Downing. The progress 
 made was very slow, in consequence of the evidence 
 having to be taken down in writing. The cross-ex- 
 amination had not concluded at the adjournment of 
 the court. 
 
 On Thursday morning, Sullivan was again called, 
 when the cross-examination was resumed. Accom- 
 panied by another man, M. Downing, on the road 
 leading to Drimoleague, he saw a great number of men 
 drilling with pikes. He took the two oaths atBautry. 
 lie could not say if he intended to keep them ; he may 
 have intended to do so. He went to confession ; the 
 priest refused to give him absolution till he would 
 break through them. It was at the suggestion of a 
 police officer that he first went to Skibbereen. The 
 examination of the approver then ended, and the trial 
 was adjourned to next morning. 
 
 Ou the opening of the court next day, seven or 
 eight witnesses were produced, who were not examined 
 fully; their examinations were merely read over to 
 them and th'-y were cross-examined. One of the 
 constables contradicted the evidence of the informer as 
 to the privacy of the room called ' Phoenix Room,' in 
 Morty Duwning's bouse ; he stated it was always open 
 to the ]>ublic, and even the constabulary had taken re- 
 freshments there. 
 
 Three of the prisoners, McCaithy, Stack and Dris- 
 coll were discharged on their own recognizances of 
 £100 each to come up to trial when culled on. Colli- 
 nan, Dullin, Denis Dowling, I'atrick Dowling, Timo- 
 thy McCarthy, O'Shea, and O'Brien, were admitted to 
 bail, themselves in XlOO each, to appear at the assizes. 
 Daniel McCarthy, E. Sullivan, J. Donaghan, M. 
 Monyihan, W. O'Shea, and Morty Downing, were 
 committed for trial without bail — [Cork Examiner. 
 
 On Decemb.cr 16, the prisoners who were charged 
 with being members of the Phcenix Society were taken 
 to the county jail in Tralce. The father of Florence 
 
 Sullivan, who was arrested in Mr. Lenigan's shop' 
 was bailed, there being no charge against him. He 
 had been arrested only on suspicion. — [Munster 
 News. 
 
 Another arrest was effected on Thursday. The 
 name of the party is John Jeremiah Sbinkwin. He 
 was taken into, custody at Lisheene, and has 
 been remanded to the county jail for further ex- 
 amination. 
 
 On Dec. 17, John O' Sullivan, publican, and 
 Denis Ilallisy baker, were brought in from Ken-. 
 mare, Tralec, escorted by a strong body of police, 
 
 A young man, named John Connor, and about 
 nineteen, from Kenmare, and assistant in Mr. 
 David O'Connor's drapery establishment in Tralce, 
 has been arrested by Constable Waller, and lodged 
 in the county jail. Armed police were patroling 
 the streets, and more arrests were expected. — [Tra- 
 lee Chronicle. 
 
 Aurest of a Lady on a Charge of Wkitino 
 Seditious Letters. — On Tuesday evening, Dec 21, 
 the Fethard police escorted into Clonmel a young 
 lady-like and extremely delicate girl, named Ann 
 Walton, and had her committed to jail on charge of 
 having written several seditious letters — one in 
 particular — which we understand constitutes the 
 head and front of her offending — written on the 
 20th inst., and calling on Her Majesty's forces to 
 rebel and mutiny, as the language of the committal 
 expresses it. Inquiries made at the jail had failed 
 to elicit any information respecting the position and. 
 connexions of the prisoner. We could learn noth- 
 ing more than that she is a native of Fethard, and 
 that the warrant for committal was signed by a 
 county magistrate, we believe the Hon. Mr. French, 
 and that the documents which it is alleged she has 
 written are in the hands of Mr. Monaghan, Sub- 
 Inspector of police. To all appearances, the accused 
 is highly respectable and intelligent. We mention, 
 'en passant, ' that rumors touching her sanity freely 
 obtained circulation. Her conduct «!uring the pre- 
 liminary investigation previous to her committal, 
 and her demeanor in the jail since, are not, we un- 
 derstand, calculated to sustain the imputation. — 
 [Tipperary Examiner. 
 
 We must strictly caution our home, as well as 
 foreign correspondents, thai the communications 
 addressed to this office, as well as the letters pass- 
 ing between private citizens, are liable to be opened, 
 read, plundered of enclosures, and, possibly, never 
 delivered at all by the police agents of the civilized, 
 moral, and virtuous British government. The 
 private letters of even the advocates of the young 
 men now in the gripe of the jailer in the south of 
 Ireland, have been opened in the post office by the 
 government agents, read, copied, we believe, and, 
 in some instances, altogether detained. This is cer- 
 tainly one way of pimping for evidence, one way of 
 proving to the world the glorious advantages of the 
 British constitution and trial by jury, in which a 
 man is ' innocent until proved guilty.' Communi- 
 cations passing even between parties never known 
 to mi.x in politics are not exempt. In most cases, 
 just now, the time occupid in the transit of a letter 
 usually delivered in twenty-four hours, is a week; 
 and perhaps it is being 'over particular' to com- 
 plain that even post-office orders are lingered and 
 pocketed by the virtuous creatures of a highly 
 moral goveniment. We are not about to discuss 
 the moral effect of such practices.or attempt to dis- 
 cover the line — if any such line there be — dividing 
 the moral culpability of Jones, the postmaster, who 
 imitates ' his betters ' and ' Grahamises ' on his own 
 account, and that of the 'superiors' who, having 
 already, in a frightened blunder, outraged beyond 
 all law cr right, the ' liberty of the subject,' en- 
 deavor by letter-stealing to obtain that evidence 
 which was necessary to their first step — the arrests. 
 The British government having avowed and defend- 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 381 
 
 ed the practice, we are merely desirous of c ution- 
 ing all correspondents to recollect that we live un- 
 der a spyism more mean than that of Fouchc — a 
 despotism clad in constitutional garb, more shame- 
 less, more unscrupulous than any to be found from 
 Algeria to St. Petersburgh. — [Nation. 
 
 The English Despotism in Ieel^vnc. A mighty 
 outcry was made in England lately in favor of 
 Messrs. Park and AVatts, the English engineers, who 
 were taken on board a vessel, which,freighted with 
 armed revolutionists and materials of war, they 
 were working to the coast of Naples. Great was 
 the uproar raised against King ' Bomba,' as the ri- 
 bald prints of England would call a King who had 
 as good a right to his proper name and title as 
 Queen Victoria has to that which is usually given 
 her. Furious were the threats launched against 
 him for ha^-ing dared to imprison those English 
 ■worthies and detain them for some months without 
 bringing them to trial, and though ultimately he 
 gave them free pardons, the cowardly howl which 
 asked for the destiuction of his power,andthe rush 
 of filthy Billingsgate with which it was accompanied, 
 have scarcely yet subsided. But how would Eng- 
 land have acted in like circumstances ? We ven- 
 ture to say that the Park and Watts who would fall 
 into the hands of her gracious Majesty Queen Vic- 
 toria (who had not been nicknamed by the Neapol- 
 itans) on such an occasion would have a worse time 
 of it than those who were imprisoned, but well 
 caredfor and ultimately pardoned by King 'Bomba.' 
 ' We all have heard much of the espionage in France, 
 and of the suddenness and secrecy of the arrests 
 which have been made by the government of the 
 Fmperor — the insinuation being that nothing like it 
 could take place under the glorious British consti- 
 tution ; but lest we may have to go back to Irish 
 history, so far as ten years — for illustrations of how 
 British rule is managed in Ireland, the government 
 of the present day is very busy e.'chibiting to the 
 world the falsehood and meanness of its own pre- 
 tences and the depth of its hypocrisy. The lord 
 lieutenant's proclamation, offering a large reward 
 to spies and traitors — an enormous temptation to 
 every villain who may find himself able to swallow 
 false oaths without hesitation, and swear away in- 
 nocent lives without compunction — that proclama- 
 tion which renders insecure the life of every man in 
 Ireland who is known to entertain principles disa- 
 greeable to the English government — is now before 
 Europe and the Emperor of France and the King of 
 Naples may take a lesson from it. They snatch up 
 men quickly, it is true, take them out of their beds, 
 perhaps, just as it has been done by our worthy 
 rulers in Skibbereen ; but then they do not prate of 
 the stability of their thrones' or the freedom of their 
 institutions, and, beside, they have to deal with 
 men who are conspirators, and who know-how to 
 conspire, not with such harmless youths as those 
 who have been so violently seized and so brutally 
 treated in the south of Ireland within the last few 
 weeks. We do not doubt, however, that his Im- 
 perial Majesty is taking his lesson, and studying at- 
 tentively the workings of the glorious British con- 
 stitution in Ireland.— [Nation. 
 
 The English in India now seem to have more to do 
 than ever, notwithstanding the proclamation of her 
 most 'gracious ' majesty. Tantia Toope, one of the 
 leaders of the rebels, is proving himself an able gene- 
 ral, and success must eventually crown the efforts of 
 the brave. The British forces under Lord Kerr were 
 defeated before Judgespore, and chased for a distance 
 of four or five miles by the rebels, and, as the Dublin 
 Nation sarcastically observes, 'the British made off in 
 most masterly manner — nothing could possibly ex- 
 ceed the determination with which they turned their 
 backs to the enemy, and made themselves scarce be- 
 fore Judgespore.' Another reverse bcfel ihe British 
 
 near Bustee, from which place thoy had also to make 
 the best of their way, with a rapidity which was by no 
 means agreeable. 
 
 LATER FROM EUROPE. 
 
 By the arrival of the steamship Niagara at this 
 port we have Irish dates to Jan 1. 
 
 The examination of the ' state prisoners ' in Bel- 
 fast had commenced, and was carried on secretly in 
 the county jail. Mr. Rea, the counsel for the pris- 
 oners, protested in the strongest manner against 
 trying the prisoners in a common jail, instead of in 
 a proper court of justice, and announced it as his 
 determination to throw up his brief rather than 
 lower his profession by attending ; and, consequent- 
 ly, the prisoners are undefended. The reasons for 
 delaying the examination may be inferred from the 
 following extract from the Northern Whig : — 
 
 ' At the expiration of seventeen days from the ar- 
 rest of certain parties alleged to be connected with 
 an illegal society in Belfast, Mr. Tracy intimated 
 yesterday that the examination of the prisoners 
 would take place in the county jail, on Friday. On 
 behalf of the prisoners, Mr. Rea applied that the ex- 
 amination should be public. This was refused, and 
 therefore the order of proceeding in the case of the 
 Cork prisoners will be followed out in Belfast. All 
 this mystery is calculated to perpetuate excitement 
 and distrust. The authorities need not hope to suc- 
 ceed in keeping from the public every detail of a 
 transaction in which the public is so deeply inter- 
 ested. Mr. Tracy's visit to Dublin Castle was a 
 dead secret, a profound mystery ; but it got out. 
 In like manner, it has got out that the stipendiary 
 magistrate has been more than once to the county 
 jail, where the prisoners are enduring the advan- 
 tages of the silent system. We are in possession of 
 these facts : — That the police have the informer in 
 their hands ; that upoa this person's information 
 the arrests were made ; and that, for the last seven- 
 teen days, the police have been using extraordinary 
 exertions for the purpose of using corroborative evi- 
 dence. The ' select and separate ' system of prison 
 discipline in the county jail is admirably calculated 
 to produce the all-important evidence from the 
 parties now confined ; and we have reason to be- 
 lieve that more than one individual interrogation of 
 the prisoners has been resorted to, for the purpose 
 of eliciting corroboration of the approver's state- 
 ment. The general impression now is, that one or 
 two of the prisoners have ' split ' upon their com- 
 rades, or professed to do so, and have made some 
 statement, whatever its value may hereafter turn 
 out to be. The important Mr. Keams has, so far, 
 defeated the exertions of the police, who have di- 
 rected their utmost powers towards his capture. 
 Informations have been sworn against him as one 
 of the ringleaders of the body.' 
 
 In Cork, the inquiry closed at five o'clock, on the 
 fourth day, and after a short deliberation on the 
 part of the magistrates, the following decision was 
 announced :— Eugene M'Carty, James Stack, and 
 Jeremiah Driscoll,to be discharged on their own re- 
 cognizances of £100 each, to come up for trial when 
 called on ; Jeremiah Cullinane, Timothy Duggan, 
 Denis Dowling, Patrick Dowling, Timoihy M'Car- 
 thy, Thomos O'Shea, and William O'Brien, to be 
 admitted to bail, themselves in £100 each and two 
 securities each of £50, to appear at the assizes; and 
 Daniel M'Carthy, Denis Sullivan, Jeremiah Dono- 
 van (Rossa), Morty Monyihan, William O'Shea, 
 and Morty Downing to be committed for trial with- 
 out bail. 
 
 The testimony of the perjurer Sullivan exhibits in 
 itself the true character of this scoundrel. In com- 
 menting on his evidence, the Dublin Nation 
 says : — 
 
 'A faithful copyist of the infamous Armstrong 
 was this heartless perjurer. ' I took the little child 
 
 in my lap,' says this worthy servant of Queen Vic- 
 toria ; • I kissed it, and gave it money, and called 
 it ' my little Kerry pet ;' while I admit I intended 
 to swear away the father's life!' The father, who 
 stood listening to the ruffian as with a smile he ut- 
 tered this evidence, burst into tears and sobbed bit- 
 terly, the hand of the magistrate recording the evi- 
 dence trembled so as to prevent his proceeding for 
 some time, and a shudder of loathing, as if a rattle- 
 snaka crawled and hissed about the cell, crept over 
 every one present. One question was asked him to 
 which we deemed particular attention, for behind 
 it lies the outline of as horrible a conspiracy as has 
 been attempted in Ireland for half a century. Be it 
 observed that the man who entered Morty Down- 
 ing's house and kissed the child, as he has avowed, 
 for the murderous object of betraying the father, 
 confessed to an endeavor to plant an accomplice in 
 Mr. M'Carthy Downing's office. Does any reader 
 need to have the plot indicated more plainly ? With 
 Goula the Second co-operating with Goula the 
 First, documents of the 'right sort' would soon be 
 deposited in Mr. Downing's house, and duly ' dis- 
 covered ' to the stage horror of the Castle prints, 
 and, as the prompter of Goula hoped, to the ruin of 
 Mr. Downing ! Truly it is a blessed thing to live 
 under the wonderful British Constitution, as Mr. 
 Downing must feel, conscious that an almost direct 
 interposition of Providence has saved him from Mr. 
 Sullivan Goula, friend and protege of Queen Vic- 
 toria. ' Well may Mr. Downing fly for 'a life bath' 
 to Paris or Naples, and relate how in Ireland spies 
 are trained to ruin innocent men ; how treason is 
 perceived in the march of schoolboys — five of them, 
 two by two, the fifth, as we are told, ' bringing up 
 the rear !' how it may be a source of calamity if 
 one's footfall happens to chime with that of a com- 
 panion in the streets ! how youths may fire at a 
 bird or a bullock, but not at a ' bull's eye !' how the 
 common everyday boyish sport of ' sparring' with 
 canes is made evidence of intent ' to subvert the 
 crown and government of the realm, and levy 
 war upon our most sovereign lady the Queen !' 
 
 The Cork Examiner publishes the following ex- 
 tract of a letter on the recent arrests from Mr. Wm. 
 S. O'Brien:— 
 
 ' Although I disappprove more than I can express 
 of secret societies, and up to this moment am unac- 
 quainted with the objects of the Phcenix Club, I cannot 
 but feel much sympathy for the young men who are 
 now under arrest. The mode in which they have been 
 dealt with hitherto reminds me of the stories which 
 have been heard of Austrian tyranuy in the writings or 
 Silvio Pellico and others. Whatever their offences 
 may be, they ought to be confronted with their accuser 
 — they ought to be assisted and protected by their le- 
 gal advisers. They ought to be treated as innocent 
 until they are proved guilty, and not punished by se- 
 vere treatment in anticipation of a conviction which it 
 is possible they may not have merited. These are fun- 
 damental requisites of justice common to all countries • 
 but it appears, alas, that they are still violated in Ire- 
 land. I remain yours most truly, 
 
 William S. O'Bkibk. 
 
 The Rev. Father Daly has this winter given 220 
 suits of new warm clothes to the most destitute and 
 best deserving of the boys of the Lombard street ( Gal- 
 way _) national schools, which, with the ninety suits 
 given by the same gentleman last March, make 310 for 
 the year. 
 
 So far from reductions going on in the French 
 army as was reported, the Paris correspondent of 
 the Daily News says every man the government can 
 lay hands upon is called under arms. The entire 
 contingent for the year is ordered to join, and this 
 is a thing unprecedented in time of peace. It is al- 
 ready said that the camps of instruction will be un- 
 usually large next year. An army of nearly 30,000 
 men near the Italian frontier is spoken of. 
 
I9B2 
 
 IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 VARIOUS ITEMS. 
 
 ' Jepf, why am jou like the cedar?' ' I guv's it 
 np, Snm ; I cnii't tell you." ' Case you stays grccu 
 both summer and winter.' 
 
 A CHIMNEY SWEEP at BulTulo advertises that Ve 
 takes sweeping by the job, and engages to soot his 
 emplovfi^. 
 
 Julius— Sam, I feel as if I'd like to hab my uame 
 handed down to posterity. 
 
 Sam — Dc h; ngman will hand you down from de 
 gallows into dc bands ob dc dissextioixists, if you 
 don't alter your ways, nigger. 
 
 Julius— Oh no, Sam, I feel I shall die a noble 
 death. 
 
 Sam— What ! on dc battle-field ? 
 
 Julius — No ; dat's all played out, now. Sam, I 
 want to lay down un de liuarth, and mix my ashes 
 vid de 'grate.' 
 
 DzAK SwirT, hearing of a carpenter falling 
 through the scaffolding of a liouse which he was 
 engaged in repairing, dryly remarked that he liked 
 to see a mechanic go through his work promptly. 
 
 The MisEniES of Printers. — An old and re- 
 spectable printer, in Glasgow, was sadly bothered 
 with an apprentice, who could or would not be in- 
 itiated into that portion of grammar which treats 
 of the piopDT dispositions in letters and words. 
 One day he presented such a shockingly inaccurate 
 proof as made his master, after staring with amaze- 
 ment, take the spectacles from his nose, and give 
 the following recipe : — ■ My man ! ju st gang hame 
 this night, and tell yer mither to boil Fiilton and 
 Knight's dictionary in milk, and take it for your 
 supper, as that seems the only way you'll ever get 
 spelling put into ye.' 
 
 DouiiLE AND QviTs. — Dick Lazybones was the 
 owner of a large dog, which it cost as much to keep 
 as it would two pigs ; and the dog was worse than 
 useless, and greatly annoyed Dick's wife, 
 
 ' Plague take the dog !' said she ; ' Mr. Lazy- 
 bones, 1 wish you would sell hira, or do something 
 or o.hcr with him. 1 wonder you keep such a 
 Useless animal.' 
 
 ' Well, well, my dear,' said Dick. ' say no more 
 about it ; I will get rid of him one of these days.' 
 
 This was intended as a mere get-off on the part 
 of Dick ; but, as his wife kept daily dinging in his 
 ears about the dog, he was compelled to take some 
 order on the subject. 
 
 ' AVell, wife," said he one day, ' I have sold 
 Jowler.' 
 
 'Have you, indeed-' said she; 'I'm dreadful 
 glad of it. How much did you sell him for ?' 
 
 ' Fifty dollars.' 
 
 ' Fifty dollars ! What, fifty dollars for one dog? 
 How glad I am ! But where's the money, my 
 love ?' 
 
 • Money,' said Dick, shifting a long nine lazily 
 from his mouth, 'I didn't get any money ; I took 
 two puppies at twenty-five dollars a piece.' 
 
 A LovesiCK swain, in describing a kiss, says it is 
 a draught which passes through the system like a 
 bucket of water ihrough a basket of eggs. 
 
 A "i-ocso lady, who lately gave an order to a 
 milliner for a bonnet, said, ' You are to make it 
 plain, but at the same time, smart, as I sit in a con- 
 spicuous place in church.' 
 
 On the First of Fkdroary next we shall take 
 onr annual account of stock. We have now on hand 
 a large assortment of men's and boys' clothing, fur- 
 nishing goods, &c., &.C., in variety of fabric and style 
 to suit the taste and means of all. We wish to re- 
 duce our stock, and shall accordingly, during the 
 present month, offer sucli inducements as will insure 
 a favorable response from our patrons, who will find 
 this a rare opportunity to secure bargains, by visiiing 
 Oak Hall, 32 and 34 North street. 2w 
 
 ADVEKTISEMENTS, 
 
 PASSAGE REDUCED BET^^"EEN 
 
 LIVERPOOL AND BOSTON 
 
 MERCHANTS' LINE 
 
 — OK — 
 
 BOSTON AND LIVERPOOL PACKETS; 
 
 SAILINO rnOM LIVEnPOOL DIBKCT TO EOflTOa EVEttT 
 FIFTEEN DAYS. 
 
 TBE SPLENDID PACKEfS comprising this lino arc as 
 follows:— 
 
 Ships. Tons. Captains. 
 
 COW.MODORB- - - ■ 1800 Bliga 
 
 Caklylk 2000 JtaxvvcU 
 
 Shaw.mut .... 1000 IliKgjns 
 
 MoNOOLiA .... 1600 llolclier 
 
 'Jnos- Jkffkrson - loiO liill 
 
 WALTKlt.>iCOTT - - 1800 Smith 
 
 Pkinckss Kovai. - - 2iXK) Hartley 
 
 liiciiAiiu Mouse - - 1600 Dijisniure 
 
 'J"llALA'lTA . - - - 1750 . - . - . Stilieon 
 
 (.'A.MiiuiA .... 1S50 I'errv 
 
 l>ocAi[(iNTis - - - 1700 Deluiiil 
 
 KuFUS tiioATE - - 1000 Kich 
 
 Tlie?C' fillips are nil of tlie first clas.«, mo.stly new. and built 
 exl>l■e^^Iy loi tlie Liverpool trade; (^pucious between decks, 
 well veiitilitiod, with ail the modern iniproveinents lor the 
 cnniUirt, Iirallli luid safety of pusseu^ers. Ihey are coni- 
 muntleu by American Captains of known experience and 
 kindnes.", who will carefully look to all the wants of the 
 pftssensers during the voyage. 
 
 Each ship will be furnished with proper Medical atten- 
 dance. 
 
 TeT'Ons sendirp tor their friends in the Old Country can 
 DEPEND on having them ordered up pko.mptly lor the 
 FiaST SHIPS, and at such times as will prevent their being 
 detaiued lu Liverpool, as is ofleu practiced by the other 
 Hues. 
 
 R.\TES OF PASSAGE 
 from Liverpool to Boston {including provisions): — 
 For persons 12 years of age, and over, - - . sis X) 
 For children under I'i years, ----- 11 00 
 For iufauts under 1 j eiir, at time of embarkation, 3 00 
 
 REMITTANCES. 
 Bills of Exchange on England, Ireland, Scotland, Wales 
 and Germany, lor sale in sums to suit. 
 
 i'assengers lorwarded weekly to all parts of Europe by 
 Steam and Sailing vessels. 
 
 PAGE, RICHARDSON & CO., 
 
 114 State street, Boston. 
 
 ay- For PA.SS AGE CERTIFICATES from and to Liver- 
 pool, and Hills of E.\cliaiige, or for any iuformatiou as 
 above, apply personally or by letter to 
 
 LAWRENCE S; RYAN, Agents, 
 
 n271y Ko. 41 Broad street, Boston. 
 
 STEASI TO ALL PARTS OF GREAT BRITAIN 
 
 — VIA THE — 
 
 ATLANTIc'eOYAL mail steamship CO'S 
 
 NEW YORK AND GALWAY LINE. 
 
 THIS is the shortest route between Europe and Amer- 
 icu. The line is composed of powerful and last sail- 
 ing steamships, ably otlicered, and lurnisbed with every- 
 thni;? requisite to render the voyage safe and agreeable. 
 The departures from New York for Gahvay will be as I'ol- 
 lowB, until further KOtice, viz- — 
 
 CIKCASSIAN - - - - Thursday, January 27. 
 
 Persons visitinfj Ireland reach their destination in three- 
 fourths the time taken by any other route, and all liave an 
 opportunity ot visiting places and scenery of unrivalled in- 
 terest in Ireland. 
 
 Trice ofpa-snage, including free tickets by the usual rail- 
 road routes from (Jalwaytoany ol the principal cities o! 
 Great Britain, at the following reduced rates: — First class 
 SM. second clasH SoO, thiid clasp S30. 
 
 Those wishing to bring their friends to this country can 
 purchase tickets for their passage in third class from Oal- 
 way at S30, or from other cities iu Great Britain, accessible 
 by Vailr.'ad, S35. A liberal cabiti table will be provided, 
 and cooked provisions for third class passengers to and 
 from Galway. 
 
 For freight and passage and further particulars apply to 
 the American Express Company, CI Hudson street, Kew 
 York , or to 
 
 KAZRO BltOTHERS & SWEKNEY, 
 
 ol6 tf G Chatham Kow, Boston. 
 
 OLD HICKORY HOUSE, 
 
 36 MAI^• STKEET, CH A R LESTO TTN. 
 MC NULTY & RYAN 
 
 BEG leave to inform the public that they have opened 
 the above house, and keep constantly ou band the 
 very best assortmem of all kinds of ^V]^"ES and LIQUOItS, 
 Including the celebrated WISE^S OLD COliK WHISKEV. 
 In connection with the above house, they also keep on 
 hand a large supply of the very best 
 
 GROCEIIIKS, PUOVISIONS AXD TECETADI.ES, 
 
 which they warrant to sell as cheap as can be bought in 
 Ciiarlestonn. Boston or elsewhere. ly— jau22 
 
 GILMOnEs SALEM IJUADUILLE BAXD. E. UP- 
 TOK, Jr.. rrompter. Ap; ly to F. S. tiLuloSE Es- 
 sex ilouJ,£. SALlUi, Alasa. 
 
 M R 
 
 ADVERTISEMENTS. 
 
 IMPORTANT TO HOUSEKEEPERS! 
 J . F R D • • • • 156 & 158 Federal Stiieet, 
 E.srECI'FULLY Informs his friends and the public 
 that he cuutiuues to otfer for sale a lur^'C aud select 
 aesorlment tf 
 
 GROCERIES, 
 
 Consisting of TEAS, SUGAKS, COFFEES, SI'ICES, &0. 
 
 — ALSO — 
 
 CHOICEST WINES, LIQUORS AND CIQARS 
 
 I Wholesale aud Retail. 
 
 THE BEST FAMILY FLOUK CONSTANTLY ON HAND. 
 The subscriber's long experience enables him to fell to tho 
 purchaser's advantage, and it is his undeviating aim to pro- 
 duce a better article than can be found elsewhere for tho 
 same price, lie is, therefore, confldeut that those favoring 
 him with their patronage will receive every salisfuctlou. aud 
 Hud his goods are sold e.Mremcly low lor cash. lydll 
 
 TURKEY SALVE 
 
 HEALS TJLCER.vrED SORES, FELONS, 
 Burns, Whitlow, Fnlm Abscess, skin or water Scrofu- 
 la, Ulcerated Sore Legs, Bruises, Chapped Hands, Ulcers in 
 the Neck, Scald Head in Childreu, Frosted Feet, Sore Nose, 
 Boils, Bleeding Tiles, Ulcerated Sore Breast, Sore Nipples, 
 Inflamed Breasts made to supperate in twelve hours, with- 
 out a resort to the ' knife.' There is no Salve before tho 
 public so powerful as this, being entirely made from the 
 strongest lierbs, roots aud barks. It can be reduced so as 
 to be applied to a child one week old, or be made strong 
 enough to dress an ulcer every half hour, even after morti- 
 fication sets in. so that this salve will do more good in Ofie 
 day than all others in one week. 
 
 N. B.— I give my entire attention to healing Ulcerated 
 Sores, and warrant a perfect cure,failiugiu which I make no 
 charge. Mymottois, 'No cure no pay.' Charges moder- 
 ate. 
 
 FRANCIS F. SPRING. 
 
 dllm IS High street, Boston. 
 
 L. L O R E N Z • S 
 
 EUROPEAN EXPRESS 
 
 FORWARDS PACKAGES TO EUROPE BY STEAMER 
 twice a week, and guarantees prompt delivery to any 
 place in ENGLAND, IRELAND and SCO f LAND free of 
 charges. 
 
 Single daguerreotye - - - SI 00 
 
 Packages 14 cubic foot - 
 
 do 1-2 do do - 
 do 1 do do 
 
 2 00 
 
 3 00 
 
 500 
 
 Packages done up gratis at EDWARD RYAN'S 
 ticket oflice. No. 2 Albany street, Boston, Mass. 
 janl— ly JULIUS SPAETH, Agent. 
 
 ORDW.W HALL-WASHINGTON STREET. 
 
 TENTH SEASON OF ORDWAY'S yEOLIANS, 
 
 MANAGER, J. P. ORDWAY; Stage Manager. E. KEL- 
 LY; Business Manager, James McGEE. The perfor- 
 mances given nightly at thisotablishmeut consist in part of 
 ETHIOl'IAN MELODY, uURLESQUE aud COMIt^UE. 
 
 The hall has been beautifully painted and refitted. No 
 pains or expense has been spared to make the JEolians 
 equal to any company in the world. 
 
 Tickets 25 cents— Children under fen, 15 cents. 
 
 Doors open 1-4 before 7. Performances commence at 
 7 1-4 o'clock, See small bills. tf— janl5 
 
 FR.\NCIS GODFREY, 
 
 IMPORTER AND RESTORER OF 
 
 ITALIAN PAINTINGS, 
 
 AND MANUFACTURER OF GILT FRAMES, 
 
 12 Frankliji Street, Bostox. 
 
 (O" Engravings. Litbograpbs, Crayons, tc, on sale. 
 
 Sm aug2S 
 
 P . MORRIS, 
 
 APOTHECARY, 
 
 Corner of Federal and Purchase streets, foot of Summar 
 
 street, UoSTOs. 
 
 STRICT personal attention paid to compounding Phvsl 
 clan's Prescriptions. A choice seleclion of Faniily 
 ^lediciues coustaucly ou baud. A well frelected stock of 
 gcnuiue imported Perfumery and Faucy Goods. .Soda 
 Watcrwith choice Syrups. A large assortment of genuine 
 Havana Scgars constantly on liana. apS 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 ADVERTISEMENTS. 
 
 OLD COLONY HOUSE. 
 
 PATRICK HOLLY bej;? leave to announce to his pat- 
 rons aud the public generally that he has cou:itaully 
 on hand at his old and well-known stand, 
 
 THE OLD COLONY HOUSE, 
 
 COKyER OF KXEELAXD AXD SOUTH STiiJiETS, 
 A CHOICE A8S0KTMEKT OB" 
 
 BKANDIES, WINES, SCOTCH & IRISH 
 
 AATHSKEY, CIGAKS, &c. &c., 
 
 11 of the very first quality, which can be obtained too at 
 
 LOWEK RATES 
 
 than elsewhere in the market; in proof of which he invites 
 
 a call. Qug28 
 
 purchasers to give 1 
 
 NORTHERN HOUSE, 
 
 KORTH SQTTAKK — BOSTON. 
 
 JOHN GLANCY Proprietok. 
 
 This House has rooms-equal to any first class Hotel, and 
 permanent or transient Boarders can be accommodated 
 nearly one half cheaper than at any other House in the 
 City. 
 
 In the Reading Room can be found all the morning and 
 evening papers, and periodicals of the day, together with 
 an extensive Library, for the free and exclusi\e use of 
 the Boarders. 
 
 N. B. Strangers visiting Boston, can always find this 
 House a Home. 
 
 FINE READY MADE CLOTHLNG 
 
 — AND— 
 
 CUSTOM TAILORING. 
 
 SPRING OVERCOATS, 
 
 BUSINESS COATS, 
 
 FROCK AND DRESS COATS, 
 
 PANTS AND VESTS, 
 Good, Stylish, Well Made Garments, 
 Such as men of taste and good judgment will wear, can at 
 all times be found at our store. 
 Our aim is to produce for our customers the best Ready 
 Made Garments at the lowest possible prichs tos. 
 OASH. 
 
 Headers of this Journal are earnestly solicited to exam- 
 ine our goods before purchasing. 
 
 J W. SMITH & CO., 
 
 Dock Sqctare, corner Elm Street. 
 myll tf 
 
 SOUTH END CATHOLIC BOOK STORE, 
 
 And Depot for the Sale of the 
 
 METROPOLITAN AND YOUTHS' MAGAZINES. 
 
 "mCLLIAM KEATING, Agent, 
 
 8 1-2 Harrison Avenue, or at his New Periodical Store, 176 
 
 Harrison Avenue, Boston, Mass., 
 
 Where a great variety of the most popular Books and 
 
 Papers cam be had at the very lowest prices, 
 
 WILL supply Clubs, Agents, Canvassers, &c., on the 
 same terms as the Publishers. The lollowing are 
 the terms — 3 copies will be sent by mail, to one addi-ess, for 
 one vear So; 6 copies for SIO; 13 copies for S20; 20 copies 
 forS30. 
 
 CT" On the receipt of S3, three copies of the Catholic 
 Youth's Magazine and one copy of the Metropolitan will 
 be mailed regularly iorone year. 
 
 ITT" A few sets of the Magazines from the beginning, can 
 be bad of the Agent. Also, all new books furnished as 
 Boon as published. ap24 Smos 
 
 ADVERTISEMENTS. 
 
 THE IRISH VINDICATOR. 
 
 A WEEKLY NEWSPAPER, 
 
 The Best and Cheapest Published in America. 
 
 THIS splendid Paper, which is now nearly two years 
 iu existence, has met with the 
 
 Nxj WONDERFUL SUCCESS, 
 
 and has been pr>/ii./unc»d by the Press and the Public to be 
 
 superior to any other Irish Weekly in the United States. 
 
 It contains each week, the very 
 
 Latest News from every County in Ireland j 
 
 Original and entertaiuing 
 
 STORIES AND ANECDOTES, 
 and a variety of Miscellaneous Reading matter, of a charac- 
 ter which cannot fail to elevate and chasten the intel- 
 lectual appetite. The Irish Vindicator is devoted 
 
 TO THE INTERESTS OF IRISHMEN IN AMERICA, 
 and is so cheap as to be within the reach of the poorest. 
 
 ONLY THREE CENTS A COPY. 
 
 the pollowino are the terms 
 
 To any part of the United States, for one year, S1.60 
 
 1^0. do. ,do. for 8 months, 1.00 
 
 Do. do. do. for 4 months, 0.,50 
 
 Do. do. do. for 1 month, 0.12 
 
 To any part of Canada or the British Provinces, one year 
 
 ©2,00 — All payments in advance. 
 
 for advertising, 
 
 12 lines, single insertion Sl.OO I 12 lines, 1 month, S2 50 
 
 12 do. 3 months, 5.50 | 12 do. 1 year, 16.00 
 
 Published every week, at the Oflice, No 10 Spruce street 
 
 New York, by the Proprietor. 
 
 EDWARD DOWNES CONNER Y. 
 New 1 ork, march 27 
 
 ADVERTISEMENTS, 
 
 that he keeps constantly on hand COFFINS 
 of all sizes and kinds, at his Coffin Manufactory, No. 347 
 Federal, between Beach aud Kneelaud Streets, Boston, 
 which he will sell as reasonable as can be bought at any oth- 
 er place in the city. 
 
 N. B.— Orders punctually attended to, day or night. 
 
 Residence, No. 2S South street, Boston. 
 
 CT^G rave-Clothes furnished to order at short notice, 
 
 febl3 
 
 THE IRI^SH MISCELLANY 
 
 Ifl published weekly, and devoted to the interests and vin- 
 dication of the Inali people throughout the world. 
 
 The Misctllany republishes each week one whole number 
 of the old ' Dublin Penny Journal,' with original and 
 Bclccied ussuys, reviews, poetry. Sic, by Irishmen, of first- 
 rale uljihiy. u ul^o contains beautiCul Pictorial Illustra- 
 lioiis ui lii.,li ^c^.■ll(•^y and other objects of interest, among 
 wliieh uiuy be eiiijmeratcd engravings of the ancient cas- 
 tles and round towers, the ruins of the old churches, the 
 plundered moaasleiies, convents and abbeys of Ireland. 
 
 It will also contain correct Pictorial representations ot 
 works of art executed by Irishmen of the present day, as 
 well as in former times, in this country and throughout 
 Europe. ° 
 
 Terms.— S2,00 per year, invariably in advance. 
 THOMAS O'NEILL, Proprietou, 
 
 No. 16 Franklin Strket, Bostok, Mass. 
 
 OUR AGENTS. 
 Boston.- John J. Dyer, & Co.,35 School street; A. Wil- 
 liams & Co., 100 Washington street; Fedheren & Co., 9 and 
 13 Courtstreet; Vim. Hickey, 128 Federal stieet; dowe & 
 Co., 11 Court Avenue; aud William Keating, 176 Harrison 
 
 m Burk. 
 , IMc^'ulty. 
 
 Kast Boston— Willii 
 
 Clmrleslown— Jam< 
 
 Chelsea— John Gia: 
 
 Milton— John Collins. 
 
 Canton— John Collins. 
 
 Randolph— Lawrence McGrath. 
 
 Quilicy— Andrew Kerrigan. 
 
 Woburn Centre— Charles Breslin. 
 
 Milford— Robert Pieid. 
 
 Stoneham— James Calnan. 
 
 Medford and ."dalden— Daniel Devvir. 
 
 Bangor, Me.— Edward J. Kelleher. 
 
 New York.— Dexter & Brother, 14 & 16 Ann street. 
 
 froy, N. Y.— Francis Roarke. 
 
 Philadelphia.— A. Winch, 320 Chestnut street. 
 
 Ohio.— M. H. Bird, Cincinnati, and Hawks & Brother* 
 Cleaveland. 
 
 Detroit, Mich.— J. A. Roys. 
 
 Washington, D. C— Dan'iel A. Brosnan. 
 
 Mihvaukie, Wisconsin— J. Sigerson & Co. 
 
 St. Louis. Missouri.— Thomas Duggau. 
 
 New Orleans, La.— James M. Shine. 
 
 California— James McGinn, of San Francisco. 
 
 The iVf;.scp«any may also be had, retail, of newspaper and 
 periodical dealers throughout the country. 
 
 travelling agents. 
 John Warren, 60 Audover street, lor Boston and vicinity 
 M. I'lndlay McKay, of Amesbury, Mass. Edward H. 
 Keenan, ol North Ferrisburg, Vt. Michael F. Hackelt. ot 
 Providence. R. I. James Sullivan, of New Haven, Ct. Jas. 
 Culleu, of West Troy, N. Y. James Walsh, New Hamr.- 
 shire. *■ 
 
 RATES OF ADVERTISING. 
 
 for each square op twelve lines. 
 ""'~~ Sl.OO I Three mouths. 
 
 56.00 
 
 First insertion, 
 
 Each subsequent do . 60 | One year, . '. . '. 16 00 
 
 Six Ijjies or less constitute half a square. 
 
 ..^„™ *_ -, _ _. iji proportion. 
 
 10 cents per line. 
 
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 TKEANOIi fc CFINKV, ATTORNEYS and COUNSFr 
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914 
 
 IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 GOVERNOR BANKS'S MESSAGE. 
 
 Governor banks 1\«3 the name, and deservedly so, 
 of a man who ean look ahead. This, in connection 
 with other smart traits of character, we cheerfuly 
 accord him ; and in looking ahead, and anticipating 
 public opinion, he is very accurate, we are convinced, 
 and to this wotching the way in which the ' straws 
 drift,' we believe he owes his success; thus, floating 
 on the surface, and moving before the coming cur- 
 rent, he has been, and may still continue to be, a 
 leading man where the people arc far from being 
 evenly divided. Generally, he is the first to in- 
 augurate a new party, and, now, believing the ex- 
 citement about slavery nearly extinct, the good 
 governor has not said one word about it ; not a 
 word about the famous Dred Scott case, not one 
 syllable against the general government ! Quick of 
 perception, he wisely believes, the people, even the 
 most ultra, are not yet prepared for a dissolution 
 of the Union, so there is not even a wish to 'let it 
 Elide.' 
 
 Among the more important subjects upon which 
 the governor has touched, are the purchase of the 
 Hancock House, increasing the public school fund, 
 reform in courts of law, division of paupers in our 
 public institutions, and knowing there were many 
 poor men prevented from voting at the last election, 
 the poll tax operating as a property qualification, 
 recommends an alteration. The Governor under- 
 stands this law perfectly well, it having operated 
 against himself when a young man. After his day's 
 •work, in company with a brother mechanic, he 
 started for the polls, to deposit his first vote — a 
 Democratic one, we presume — but, on account of 
 having paid no poll tax, his vote was rejected ; his 
 friend, being furnished with the evidence of a 
 receipt, was of course qualified, and accepted as a 
 proper voter. 
 
 The governor, fearing he may not have secured 
 the whole of the ' isms,' or lost them by not being 
 expressive enough, now takes a ' fling ' at the 
 foreigners, and endeavors to close up the ranks of 
 the bigots, for on no other subject are they so easily 
 united as upon their hute towards the adopted citi- 
 zen. Thus, then, he recommends the passage of 
 the amendment to the Constitution which will pre- 
 vent them from voting till two years after they have 
 complied with all the demands of the law^, and have 
 been citizents to all intents and purposes, save ex- 
 ercising the right of suffrage. 
 
 Here are the Governor's remarks on the subject : 
 ' The legislature ot 1852 gave its approval, accord- 
 ing to the requisitions of the constitution, to an 
 • amendment of that instrument, declaring that ' no 
 person of foreign birth shall bt entitled to vote, or 
 shall be eligible to oflice, unless he shall have re- 
 sided within the jurisdiction of the United States 
 for two years subsequent to his naturalization, and 
 shall be otherwise qualified, according to the con- 
 stitution and laws of this Commonwealth; provided, 
 that this amendment shall not aflect the rights which 
 any person of foreign birth possessed at the time of 
 the adoption thereof ; and, provided, further, that 
 it shall not cfl'ect the rights ofany child of an Amer- 
 ican citizen born during the temporary abscence of 
 the parents abroad." I r-rspectfuUy but earnestly 
 recommend a concurrence in this amendment, in 
 order that it may be submitted to the people for 
 their approval or rejection." 
 
 This suggestion of the governor will undoubtedly 
 be acted upon, and he will then have satisfied the 
 most ultra that he is right upon the ' goose ques- 
 tion.' 
 
 BARRY SULLIVAN. 
 
 Wc must acknowledge that the advent of this gen- 
 tleman in Boston came upon us almost unawares, more 
 especially as ive arc alive at all times to the interests 
 of a countryman of genius. The different nativities 
 wliich the newspapers had given him made us more 
 anxious to know what countryman he really called 
 himself. Wo had remembered that Mrs. Mowett, 
 when asked what countrywoman she was, replied, 
 ' An American, born in France'; and we knew not 
 but that this gifted son of Erin, like many, very many, 
 of her sons, preferred a foreign and stranger's recogni- 
 tion to that of an alliance witli poor down-trodden Ire- 
 land, and although Ireland and genius, more especially 
 the genius of eloquence, are synonimous, yet we knew 
 that — 
 Unprised are her eons till they learn to betray, 
 
 Undistinguished they live if they shame not their sires, 
 For the torch that would Ijjht them to dignity's way, 
 Must be caught from the pile where their country expires. 
 We have seen Mr. Sullivan, or, as Punch called 
 him, ' the Irishman with two names,' and we candidly 
 say we have never been more pleased with the rendi- 
 tion of Shakespeare's Jew, in the Merchant of Venice, 
 or Macbeth, in the tragedy of that name, than we were 
 with that of Mr. Sullivan. He is accorded by the 
 united press a first rate position as an actor and gen- 
 tleman. As we understand that he will visit us again, 
 we advise those who admire talent, and love to see the 
 human passions portrayed as Shakespeare understood 
 them, to go and see Mr. Sullivan ; he truly enters into 
 the spirit of the character he represents, and never for 
 a moment looses it till the curtain falls. Mr. Sullivan 
 is a student of hard study, who has overcome every 
 obstacle that jealousy could throw in his way ; he 
 has risen above the slanders of the hireling press of 
 England, and, despite all the difficulties thrown in his 
 way, has reached a histrionic tame as an actor of first 
 rate ability. We rejoice that the intelligent portion of 
 the people of England could not be trammelled by 
 sneers at birth or nationality of an octor, and we feel 
 pleased to be able to add that the American people 
 will not endorse the spleen of the English press, but 
 admire and support true genius, as his benefit on last 
 Friday night fully testified. The night was one of the 
 most inclement of the season, yet the house was 
 crowded, and there was not even a standing place un- 
 occupied. We trust when he visits Boston again he 
 will receive a reception worthy of our citizens. 
 
 In a future number we will give a biographical 
 sketch of this worthy representative of Irish talent, 
 who now ranks with such actors as Brooks, Brougham, 
 Collins, and Leonard, men who have won their way to 
 the American heart, and carved their names high on 
 the tablet of Fame. 
 
 tions incident to journalism. Strange that a publi- 
 cation like this, which is well adapted to juvenile 
 readers and is afforded for the insignificant sura of 
 fifty cents a year, should be languishing for want of 
 hearty support ! 
 
 The Atlantic Monthly for January, 1859, contains 
 the continuation of Mrs. Stowe'e new novel, and a 
 variety of other articles, all well written. The 
 •Professor ' takes the place of the Autocrat ' at the 
 breakfast table. 
 
 ORPHAN'S FAIR, PROVIDENCE, R. I. 
 
 We have received a long communication on the 
 above subject, from which we learn that the people, 
 despite the dull times, recognized the fair as one of 
 true importance and Christian benevolence. It 
 realised the sum of $4,407.45. Expences $877.99, 
 leaving $3,529 as the nett proceeds, a sum, all 
 things considered, which speaks well for the zeal of 
 the Catholics of Providence in the cause of the poor 
 orphan. 
 
 An incident occurred in connection with the fair 
 which is in no way calculated to inspiie people 
 with a good opinion of the 'Young Men's Christian 
 Union.' The time specified for holding the fair was 
 foundi nsufficient, and application was made to the 
 association, who returned an answer that they 
 would rather the hall should remain unoccupied than 
 the fair be prolonged one hour beyond its time; how- 
 ever, they conluded to let the committee have it for 
 one night more for $60, which is equal to two 
 night's rent. If this is the Christianity of the 
 ' Young Men's Christian Union,' of Providence, we 
 have only to say it is a new version of the religion 
 of Him whose especial care is the poor, and 
 whose love is ever exhibited for the orphan. We 
 are at a loss to know how they reconcile this con- 
 duct with their name and professions ? 
 
 The Brownson Literary Institute held their first 
 annual meeting on Wednesday evening, 6th inst., 
 when the following gentlemen were elected officers 
 for the ensuing year : — President, Michael H. Sul- 
 livan : Vice President, John O'Regan ; Secretary, 
 John Chorlton ; Treasurer, Arthur McGuire ; Li- 
 brarian, Mathew Garity. 
 
 Ouu warm-hearted countryman, Henry Giles, 
 lectures in Salem this week, where we hope he will 
 have a rush of intelligent hearers and happy faces. 
 He is one of the ablest lecturers in the Union, as he 
 is one of the most worthy of men, and deserves all 
 that generous hearts can perform . 
 
 NEW PUBLICATIONS. 
 
 'The Bible against Protestanism,andfor Catholicity 
 — evinced in a conference between a Catholic, a 
 Protestant Episcopalian, and a Presbyterian. By 
 the Rt. Rev. Dr. Sheil, Roman Catholic Bishop. 
 To which is annexed an Appendix, proving that the 
 ' reformed ' churches are destitue of any lawful 
 ministry.' Mr. Thomas Sweeney, of this city, has 
 just issued the • fifth edition, revised, corrected, and 
 enlarged,' of a neat duodecimo of 296 pages, the 
 title of which, given above, in e.xtenso, will afford 
 an idea of the nature of its contents. The volume 
 is divided into 29 sections, and under these heads 
 the leading doctrinal points in dispute between 
 Christians are discussed with great ability. Copious 
 citations are made from Scripture and the writ- 
 ings of the fathers of the church, to enforce the 
 cherished dogmas. The book is pleasant and in- 
 structive reading, and should be possessed by every 
 Catholic, and indeed, every Protestant likewise. 
 
 The Catholic Library Magazine, published month- 
 ly by the Newburg, New York, Catholic Library 
 Association, commenced the new year with an ad- 
 dress by the talented young editor, Mr. John 
 Ashurst, from which we regret to learn that this 
 neat little Magazine is not exempt from the afflic- 
 
 P. R. GuiNEV, Esq., of Boston, will deliver a 
 lecture in Portland, Me., on the evening the 25th 
 inst. Subject — ' The Policy of England, and its 
 influence upon the Irish people.' He will also lec- 
 ture in other places during the present season, if 
 desired. We have never had the pleasure of hear- 
 ing Mr. Gumey, but understand he is a very 
 promising young man, especially as a lecturer. We 
 wish Mr. Guiney every success. 
 
 We have received an invitation to be present at 
 a grand ball to be given to Mr. Leonard, at Stone- 
 ham this week. If possible we will be present, but 
 if not, our excuse will be accepted — business. We 
 know there will be a good gathering,and wish them 
 a happy time. 
 
 TuE annoyances to which our friends in Chelsea 
 have been subjected have caused us much pain. 
 Our subscribers will find their papers in the Post 
 Office on Thursday of each week. 
 
 Naturalization Office. — It will be remembered 
 that, in connection with our paper, we have an 
 office for Naturalization, where men from the coun- 
 try can have their business attended to without 
 delay, a young man being always in attendance for 
 that purpose, who understands everything in rela- 
 tion thereto. Office 16 Franklin street. 
 
 We see by the Daily National Intelligencer ot 
 Washington, that our friend John Savage is about 
 to separate himself from the States. 
 
 J. FoBD, importer and wholesale dealer in foreign 
 and domtstic liquors, 166 and 168 Federal street. 
 
VOLUME 2— NUMBER 51.] 
 
 BOSTON, SATURDAY, JANUARY 29, 1859. 
 
 [PRICE FOUR CENTS. 
 
 SCENERY AND TRADITIONS OF IRELAND. 
 
 The city of Limerick, standing on the banks of 
 that noble river, the Shannon, has been the scene 
 of many eventful passages in Irish history. The 
 Anglo-Normans and Saxons, the Ironsides, discip- 
 lined and inured to war by Cromwell, and last of 
 all, the troops of William III., have all tried the 
 courage and endurance of the ' bravest of the brave' 
 of the Irish. Like almost every Irish sea-port, it 
 was during the periods when the Danes were all- 
 powerful in the British seas, one of the settlements 
 of that warlike race. It was afterwards the capital 
 of the province of Munster, and the seat of the kings 
 of Thomond or North Munster. Those were the 
 palmy days of Irish minstrelsy, and, as may be said 
 of every ancient place in the country, the harper 
 ' Nightly in the bannered hall 
 Tuned his harp to tales ot chivalry,' 
 and those love themes that in all climes warm the 
 heart and cheer the soul. But all has passed away; 
 and with Strongbowand his admixture of Normans, 
 Saxons, and Welshmen, came a new order of 
 things. Raymond Le Gros was the iirst English 
 adventurer who laid siege to the city. It was then, 
 
 saith an old chronicler, 'environed with a foull and 
 deepe ditch, with running water, not to be passed 
 over without boats but by one foord only.' The 
 resistance was protracted, and the siege would have 
 been raised but for the spirit of a Welsh knight, 
 who, having discovered the ' foord, wyth a loud 
 voice cried, St. David, companions, let us courage- 
 ouslie pass this foord !' The place was thereupon 
 assaulted with great fury and taken. After many 
 vicissitudes, it was ultimately subdued by the an- 
 cestor of the famous Anglo-Irish family, the De 
 Burghs, and thenceforward became an appendage of 
 the English crown. In the reign of Richard I., the 
 city of Limerick enjoyed great importance, and 
 was considered second only to Dublin. 
 
 In the reign of his successor. King 7ohn, the 
 castle was built. The chronicler says that king 
 was ' so pleased with the agreeableness of the city 
 that he caused a very fine castle and bridge to be 
 built there.' These superstructures, the frowning 
 relics of a period now upwards of six centuries ago, 
 form the subject of the pictorial embelishment which 
 we this week present to our readers. In a previous 
 number we gave an illustration ol Thomond Bridge. 
 
 Had stones tongues, what sad tales could thest 
 rugged masses tell ! They could speak of conqueror 
 after conqueror — 
 
 'Each, with a gigantic stride, 
 Trampling on all the flourishing works of peace 
 To make his greatness greater, and inscribe 
 His name in blood — some, men of steel, steel-olad; 
 Others — nor long, alas, the interval — 
 Wielding Jove's thunder, scattering sulphurous fire 
 Mingled with darkness.' 
 Until the conclusion of the war provoked by the 
 great revolution of 1688, Limerick can scarcely be 
 said to have enjoyed any lengthened repose. In 
 that troubled period, the gallantry of the citizens 
 was so conspicuously displayed as to give rise to 
 the proud boast that ' Derry and Limerick will 
 ever grace the historic page as rival corapanioiis 
 and monuments of Irish bravery, generosity, and 
 integrity.' Engaged in diiferent causes, the gallant 
 defenders of both places have earned from the his- 
 torian that praise which even faction, the most ac- 
 cursed of all political evils, has failed to weaken. 
 
 1'his celebrated siege commenced early in August, 
 1790, when William, flushed with the laurels he 
 had acquired at the battle of the Boyne, summonsd 
 
 KING JOHN'S CASTLE, LIMEKIUK 
 
3!r6 
 
 UllSU MISCELLANY. 
 
 ^~7'c--» 
 
 the city to surrender. The French General Boileaa 
 conmandod the garrison, and his answer was unequi- 
 vocal. He said ' he was surpriiicH at the summons, 
 and thought ihc best way to gain the good opinion of 
 the I'rince of Orange was to defend the place for his 
 master King James." After suih a reply, hosiilities 
 were at once commenced. The flower of the Irish 
 army were within the walls, and the city waa abun- 
 dantly supplied with provisions. A French fleet rode 
 UiuoDphautly in the Shannon, and atlbrded tbcdcfend- 
 eN both countenance and support. This was, how- 
 ever, in some measure noautralizcd by the jealous 
 feeling which prevailed between the commanders of 
 the French and Irish, which, spreading to their troops, 
 tended to weaken their cfl'orts. But this source of 
 weakness was counterbalanced by William's army being 
 greatly reduced in number, and crippled by being 
 obliged to carry on its operations in any enemy's 
 country. On the a7th of August, a breach was effected 
 and an assault ordered. The British grenadiers, who 
 led, rushed to the breach,and forced their way into the 
 town ; but, being unsupported, were obliged to fall 
 back, and in their retreat were cut to pieces. Both 
 sides fought with the utmost bravery. The native 
 courage of the Irish was stimulated by their wives and 
 daughters, who took part in the bloody contest, using 
 against the enemy the weapons they had seized from 
 the slain ; and, after a murderous struggle of four 
 hours, the besiegers were forced to retire to their 
 trenches, with a loss in killed and wounded of more 
 than 200O men. The courage of the Irish forces 
 elicited even the admiration of William. Within two 
 minutes after the commencement of the attack, ' the 
 noise was so terrible,' writes an eye witness, ' that one 
 would have thought the' very skies to be rent asunder.' 
 ' This was seconded by dust, smoke, and all the terrors 
 the art of man could invent to ruine and undo one 
 another ; and to make it the more uneasie, the day 
 itself was excessively hot to the boystanders, and much 
 more so in all respects to those in action.' In a few 
 days after,the siege was raised, and William, with his 
 army, retreated. The king himself embarked for Eng- 
 land, leaving the conduct of the war to his generals 
 Solmes and Ginckle. 
 
 After obtaining the signal victory at Aughrim 
 General Ginekle concentrated his forces in the neigh- 
 borhood of the city, which had now become the only 
 place in all Ireland to which the defeated adherents of 
 James could retreat. 
 
 The second siege occurred in the autumn of 1791, 
 and lasted about si.\. weeks ; but a contest in which 
 nothing but glory was to be gained was soon termi- 
 nated. On the 23d of September a cessation of hos- 
 tilities took place ; an amicable intercourse was opened 
 between tlio two armies, and, after a few brief delays, 
 articles of capitulation was agreed upon. So ended 
 the second and last siege of Limerick; and the only re- 
 markable incident that occured during its progress was 
 the slaughter that took place at Thomond's Bridge, in 
 consequence of the treachery or pusillanimity of a 
 French major. On the 22d of September the works 
 which defended the Clare side were ordered to be at- 
 tacked ; the Irish fought bravely, but were ultimately 
 defeated, and made a rush to the bridge. The French- 
 man, fearing, it is said, that the English grenadiers 
 would enter with the retreating soldiery, ordered the 
 drawbridge to bo raised, and left the fugitives to the 
 mercy of their pursuers. The consequence was, that 
 nearly all the Irish were destroyed, 600 having been 
 put to the sword, and 150 drowned in the vain attempt 
 to reach the walls by swimming. 
 
 On the 6th of October possession was delivered, and 
 on the same day a scene occurred perhaps unparalled 
 in history. 
 
 the service of France. It had been agreed between the 
 rival commanders that, after the addresses to the men 
 from both sides had been conclndcd, they should be 
 marched past a Hag raised at a given station, where 
 those who were to be enlisted for England should file 
 oft", while those for Franco were to proceed onward. 
 Sarslicld gave the word ' march.' Not a sound was 
 heard except Ihc steady tramp of the Irish soldiers 
 until the guards (fourteen hundred strong) reached the 
 flag. All but seven passed it, and then a deafening 
 shout arose from the multitude who had assembled to 
 witness the spectacle. 
 
 Those who reached the French soil laid the founda- 
 tion of those 'Irish brigades' who figured so conspi- 
 cuously in the wars of Europe. Their daring courage 
 few will deny ; but their enemies tried to make a good 
 deal of trouble for them. One anecdote is highly char- 
 acteristic. 
 
 Some complaints having reached the French king, 
 .he took occasion to tell the marshal, the Earl of Tho- 
 mond — ' Some of your countrymen, marshal, give me 
 a good deal of trouble.' ^ Sire,' he replied, ' your 
 Majesty's enemies make the same complaint in every 
 partof the world.' 
 
 Of the situation of the city it behooves us to say a few 
 words. As we have before stated, it is situated on the 
 Shannon, about sixty Irish miles from the sea, and, 
 like the majority of towns in Ireland, is divided into 
 English Town and Irish Town; but a third division.call- 
 ed Newtown Pery, was added to it in the last century. 
 
 After the castle, the most remarkable of the ancient 
 structures is the cathedral, built on the site of the 
 palace of O'Brien, King of Limerick. It is a sombre 
 building in appearance ; but its remarkably high tower 
 in some measure relieves it of its dullness. There is a 
 curious and affecting tradition associated with the bells 
 in this cathedral. They were, it is said, brought 
 originally from Italy, where they were manufactured 
 by a young native, who grew justly proud of the suc- 
 cessful result of years of anxious toil expended in their 
 production. They were subsequently purchased by 
 the prior of a neighboring convent; and with the profits 
 of this sale the young ItaUan procured a villa, where 
 he had the pleasure of hearing the tolling of his bells 
 from the convent cliff, and of growing old in the bosom 
 of domestic happiness. This, however, was not to 
 continue. In some of those broils, whether civil or 
 foreign, which are the undying worm in the peace of a 
 fallen land, the good Italian was a sufferer amongst 
 many — he lost his all; and after the passing of the 
 storm, found himself alone preserved amid the wreck 
 of fortune, friends, family, and home. The convent in 
 which his darling bells were hung was razed to the 
 earth, and the ' chefs-d'Eeuvre' of his skill borne away. 
 The unfortunate owner, haunted by his memories, and 
 deserted by his hopes, became a wanderer over Europe. 
 His hair grew grey, and his heart withered, before he 
 again found a home and a friend. In this desolation 
 of spirit he formed the resolution of seeking the place 
 to which his treasures had been finally borne. He 
 sailed for Ireland, proceed up the Shannon, the vessel 
 anchored in the pool near Limerick, and he hired a 
 smnll boat for the purpose of landing. 
 
 THE SIECE OF LIMERICK. 
 
 AiB— 'Cul uwlingdeaa, &o.' 
 I. 
 By William led, the EiiRlis sped, 
 
 With muhket, sword and caanoa, 
 To sweep us all from Limerick's wall, 
 
 Or ilronu us in llic SUnnnoii ; 
 But we bethought how well they fought, 
 
 Our father's there before us — 
 Wc raised on lii;,'h our charginfr cry, 
 
 And flung our green flag o'er us: 
 
 II. 
 
 For days on days their cannon's blaze 
 
 Flashed by the blood-stained water; 
 The breach is done, and up they run, 
 
 Five hundred, to the slaughter; 
 They crossed the breach beyond our reach, 
 
 New foes fresh work supplied us; 
 Our women brave their homes to save 
 
 Soon slew them all inside u; ! 
 
 III. 
 Though thro' the smoke their array broke, '^^ 
 
 With cannons booming solemn, 1 '."r 
 We would not niiich, but inch for In'oii, 
 
 Opposed each bristling column; — ^i- "*^ 
 
 Three times wc dashed them back and sm^h^ 
 
 Their lines with sliot and sabre, 
 And nought had they at close of day 
 
 IJut thinned ranks for their labor! 
 
 IV. 
 With angry word then said their lord — 
 
 ' Our foes are better, bravcrl ' 
 Then fled he straight from Limerick's gate. 
 
 For he^ould not enslave her; 
 Then raised we high our triumph cry 
 
 Where battle's chances found us, 
 With corse and gun and rent flags strewn, 
 
 And blood and ruin round usi 
 
 THE PRIVATE MEMOIRS OF CAPTAIN ROOK. 
 
 WBITTEN BY HlMSEtP. 
 
 [Continued.] 
 CHAPTER XVUI. 
 
 AUREST AND IlESCUE OF A CATHOLIC PRIEST. 
 
 My father had been too experienced a sufferer to let 
 himself be imposed upon by the false hopes which the 
 business of eighty-two held out. All my arguments 
 in favor of national tranquility were thrown away npon 
 him, and unfortunately an event occured, the morning 
 after my return, which completely frustrated all my 
 endeavors to alter his inflexible adherence to the prin- 
 ciples of Rockism. 
 
 We had just sat down to a dish of sturabout, stud- 
 ded, like Killarney, with golden lakes, formed by the 
 melting of lumps of butter, which had been deposited 
 in the oaten compound opposite each operator, when 
 Jem Connor entered in breathless haste. 
 
 ' What is the matter, Jem ?' inquired my father. 
 ' Matter ! troth enough is the matter. Captain, 
 jewel,' replied Connor, all the time catching his breadth 
 with dilEculty. 
 ' Any one killed V asked my mother. 
 'Killed! ay, worse,' returned Jem. 'An't Father 
 The rity was now before him, and he beheld St. ' Roach, God presarve him, marched off to jail as if he 
 Mary's steeple lifting its turreted head above the smoke ' were a thief and rogue !' 
 
 and mist of the old town. He satin the stern, and ; ' Father Roach !' ejaculated my father, dropping his 
 looked fondly towards it. It was an evening so calm spoon. 
 
 and beautiful as to remind him of his own native haven [ ' Nobody else, Captain, agra,' said Jem, ' and sure 
 in the sweetest time of the year — the death of the spring, i as a gun the villians will hang and murder him, like 
 The broad stream appeared like one smooth mirror, poor Father Sheehy,Lord be merciful to his sowl, with- 
 and the little vessel glided through it. out judge or jury." * 
 
 On a sudden, amid the general stillness, the bells i ' Dccimus,' cried my father, ' up and arm I This 
 
 tolled from the cathedral, the rowers rested on their j must not be; and, old and infirm as I am, I cannot 
 
 The whole of the Irish troops, to the \ o^^s, and the vessel went forward with the impulse it remain inactive, and see injustice done the poor man's 
 
 number of fourteen thousand, were drawn up at Tho- ^^'^ received. The aged Italian looked towards the ! only friend — our beloved clergyman.' 
 
 mond Gate ; the lords, justices, and all the generals I "^''J^ crossed his arms on his breast, and lay back in In vain I attempted to persuade the venerable chief- 
 
 from the British camp met them, and rode slowly 
 along the line, their late enemies receiving them with 
 music and arms presented. The British general 
 wished the Irish to disband and return to their homes, 
 or enter the army of WilUam. On the other hand, 
 tke Irish general's object was to induce them to enter 
 
 his seat; home, happiness, earley iccoUections, friends, ! tain to remain at home, and intrust the business 
 family — all were in the sound, and went with it to his I to me. His feelings had been too deeply interested, 
 heart. When the rowers looked round, they beheld and the indignation he felt seemed to have added a 
 him with his face still turned towards the cathedral ; new stimulus to his courage and activity. In a mo- 
 but his eyes were closed, and when they landed they ' mem we were on the road, and as the arrest of Father 
 found him dead. | Roach was by this time pretty well known to his par- 
 
IRISH MISCELLAISY. 
 
 387 
 
 Ishioneis, nnmbers, burning with revenge, had collected 
 on an eminence above Kockglon. When the aged 
 captain appeared, the people bailed him with a deaf- 
 ening cheer, and on learning the road taken by the 
 constables, the whole party, men, women, and children. 
 Bet forward m pursuit. 
 
 I will confess that, notwithstanding the recent altera- 
 tion in my sentiments, i viewed this outrage (for the 
 cause had just been whispered into my ear) on a 
 Catholic priest with unmixed indignation, and, parti- 
 cipating in the general feeling. I was the tirst who 
 came within view of the prisoner and his guard. The 
 moment we were observed the constables divined our 
 intentions, and wisely took to their heels for security. 
 To my great surprise, the priest seemed exhorting 
 them to stay, and, when his advice proved unavailing, 
 he ran after them. Being an aged man he was soon 
 exhausted, and, seeing that flight was impossible, he 
 boldly turned round, and faced his parishioners. 
 
 ' Good people,' said he, in a mild persuasive tone, 
 'what is this for 1 Have I taught yon so ill that you 
 think it no crime to oppose the laws of the country ? 
 If 1 have offended, I have done so unintentionally; but, 
 if it is the will of God that I should be punished for doing 
 what I considered my duty, let me have the consola- 
 tion to think that I have not lived for five-and-twenty 
 years among you for nothing — that your conduct will 
 show to our enemies that I have constantly inculcated 
 obedienee to the laws, and loyalty to our rulers.' 
 
 The Irish peasantry will obey their clergy almost in 
 every thing but one — namely, obedience to the laws. 
 These they look upon as unjust, partial, and oppres- 
 sive, and consider the recommendation of the priest in 
 such cases as foreign to his duty, or at least an advice 
 not to be followed, for whatever Protestants may think 
 on the subject. Catholics follow their own opinions in 
 all temporal affairs, and if they consult the priest it is 
 only as a friend, and not as a spiritual guide. Acute 
 as the Irish peasantry undoubtedly are, it was not to 
 be expected that they could discriminate between 
 doubtful and partial laws. They saw, and still see. 
 Catholics laboring underpenal statutes; and how could 
 they reverence a government which hanged a priest for 
 celebrating matrimony between a Catholic and a Pro- 
 testant, though he did so under the impression that 
 both belonged to his own flock f Many of the laws 
 are now certainly just and impartial ; but the people 
 act like Sir AValter Raleigh's gardner, and, having 
 foand the fruit bitter, they erroneously condemn both 
 root and branch, for it is vain to attempt convincing 
 them that there is law for a Catholic until the penal 
 code is abrogated. 
 
 So at least thought old Captain Rock, for he turned 
 a deaf ear to Father Roach's exhortations. In vain 
 the venerable man of God exhorted him to forbearance. 
 In vain he told him that by carrying him off he would, 
 in fact, be condemning him in the eyes of his enemies, 
 as they would not fail, from the circumstance of the 
 rescue, to identify him with all the lawless proceedings 
 ofj the Whiteboys, and that if he was his greatest 
 enemy he could not go in a better way to rnin him 
 than that of snatching him from the grasp of his ac- 
 cusers. ' I am innocent,' continued the venerable 
 man, 'and have nothing to fear.' 
 
 ' Innocent !' repeated my father ; ' to be sure you 
 are. Who dare say you are guilty 1 But tell us, what 
 is the charge against you ?' 
 
 This question may seem strange to those who are 
 nnacquainted with the popular feeling in Ireland. 
 Nothing is more common than for the peasantry to 
 rescue either men or cattle, and then inquire the cause 
 of their detention. This conduct proceeds from their 
 want of confidence in the laws. They imagine every 
 one who falls under suspicion is innocent; and fre- 
 quently, though convinced of their guilt, they will still 
 afford assistance, believing that punishment in Ireland 
 is never proportioned to the offence. On the present 
 occasion nine-tenths of the people were totally igno- 
 I rant of the charge against their beloved clcigyman ; 
 but, knowing that one so pure, so good, and so pious, 
 could not be guilty of any possible crime, ihey would 
 have lost their lirei sooner than see him go to prison. 
 
 When the clamor somewhat subsided, wo all learned 
 that the charge against Father Roach was of a very 
 serious nature — that he had married two of his parish- 
 ioners, one of whom had been a convert from Protes- 
 tantism for a length of time. Her parents had long 
 since discarded her; and, on her marriage, availed 
 themselves of a penal law to punish the priest, to 
 whoso exertions they aitriljuted what they considered 
 the npostncy of their daughter. 
 
 ' I run no risk,' said the priest; 'she has been my 
 patient for more than twelve months.' 
 
 ' Ay,' says ray father ; ' hut she has not openly pro- 
 fessed Catholicity so long.' 
 
 ' True,' returned Father Roach, 'but it is now nearly 
 twelve months since.' 
 
 ' Nearly, sir,' returned the old chieftain, ' won't do ; 
 were it eleven months, twenty-nine days, twenty-three 
 hours, and fifty-nine minutes, they would hang you as 
 high as Ramsay. Remember Father Sheehy !' 
 
 Tliese last words operated like an electric shock 
 upon the people, and without waiting for another sen- 
 tence they seized the priest, and forcibly carried him 
 along. Most fortunately they did so, for had he been 
 brought to trial, he must, according to law, have been 
 condemned. Of this he was himself subsequently per- 
 suaded; and as his enemy. Major White, displayed 
 great zeal in indeavoring to bring him to what he 
 called justice, the poor old man, by the advice of his 
 friends, quitted the country and went to Spain. 
 
 ' Such is your boasted independence, Decimus,' said 
 my father, as we returned home, after seeing Father 
 Roach safely lodged in a friends house. ' Your Char- 
 lenionts and Grattans tell us we are free, and yet our 
 priests can be hanged if a Protestant judge presume 
 that they are guilty.' 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 A RESIDENT LANDLORD. 
 
 The memory of Susan was not easily effaced from 
 my mind, and soon after the affair of Father Roach, I 
 paid a visit to her disconsolate father. I found the poor 
 man still in the greatest distress. The slightest inci- 
 dent awakened his sorrow, the memorials of the unfor- 
 tunate Susan, which lay scattered about the house, 
 were continually reminding the old man that he had 
 lost a daughter — that he was now childless — and 
 almost without a living being to console or comfort 
 him. The sufferings of others, particularly where age 
 is concerned, impress the mind with a fascinating pain. 
 We love to look upon it, though it cost us many i 
 pang, and, if our hearts are not depraved, and our 
 feelings blunted, we are likely to become wiser and 
 better men the more we contemplate humanity in tears. 
 If they are the effect of cruelty or power, we learn to 
 detest vice and tyranny, and if they are produced by 
 crime or improvidence, we are taught to avoid both. 
 
 In the present instance I participated in the grief of 
 Susan's father. He had lost a daughter, and I a mis- 
 tress, and as we both had cause for sorrow, wo mingled 
 our tears. At rather an early hour in the evening I 
 took my leave ; and, as June had now scattered from 
 her lap all the luscious sweets of summer,took my way 
 through the fields by rather an obscure path, for the 
 purpose of inhaling the fr.igrant odour of evening. 
 Perhaps the melancholy and thoughful frame of mitid 
 in which I was at the moment had also its influence in 
 determining me to choose this rather indirect way to 
 Rockglen, for when in a meditating mood, the fields 
 have ever been my favorite resort. The face of Nature 
 is always sufficient to restore my spirits, for I could 
 never think that the Great Architect of the universe in- 
 tended his mighty temple to be the habitation of un- 
 happy mortals. The conscious criminal can only 
 remain sorrowful when all around him is loveliness 
 and gaiety. Whatever my subsequent life has been 
 guilty of — and I don't mean to palliate my faults — as 
 yet I had done nothing to reproach myself with. My 
 conscience had not then rebelled against me, and I 
 must say that few young men of my age indulged in 
 thoughts of a more honorable and virtuous tendency. 
 To the cause of Ireland I was devoted, and though I 
 had only just left a house where every thing was asso- 
 
 ciated with individual feelings, yet I had no sooner 
 cast my eyes arounil on the sublime scones of my native 
 county, than I felt a kind of conscious pride in having 
 the honor and happiness to claim, as the land of my 
 birth, a country which suffers notliing by comparison 
 with any one on the globe. I am no poet, or God 
 knows, I should dwell with rapture on the feelings I 
 then experienced. A cool and gentle breeze, 'mild as 
 when Zephyr on Flora breathes,' had succeeded the 
 parching heat of a declining sun, whose last faint rays 
 were just iudieated by the streaks of light on the 
 mountain top, which served to depict the eastern side 
 of the hill as if clothed in a mantle of purple. Under 
 the influence of such an hour, and such a scene, my 
 spirits, ever elastic, soon resumed their wonted tone, 
 and I walked forwards with a quick step and light 
 heart. 
 
 Descending from rather an abrubt eminence, I came 
 quickly into a secluded valley, at the extremity of 
 which was a remarkably fine spring well, whose super- 
 fluous water formed the small stream that ran through 
 the little dale; several large trees grew on the bank, 
 and the acclivities on each were covered with furze — a 
 much handsomer, and far more useful evergreen than 
 ever I have seen in England. My path continued for 
 some distance by the side of a brook, and when I came 
 to the place where it winded up the hill, I heard a sud- 
 den exclamation of terror or affright. A second cry 
 quickly succeeded the first, and judging that it pro- 
 ceeded from some person at the well, I hastened 
 [hither. 
 
 The little spring, like a bird's nest, was buried in 
 the branches of trees, above it stood a perpendicular 
 rock, and a recess on one side was shown as the once- 
 hallowed abode of a holy anchorite. Few places were 
 better calculated for inspiring devotion, and, in accord- 
 ance with this feeling, the peasantry, in despite of bet- 
 ter counsel, had frequently chosen it as a place of 
 prayer. Latterly, however, it has been almost totally 
 neglected, and was now only frequented by the family 
 of Tim O'Leary, who wanted its water for domestic 
 purposes. 
 
 When I first heard the cry of distress I was at a con- 
 siderable distance, and the intervening trees completely 
 hid the spot from my sight. A few minutes, however, 
 broaght me to the path which led to the bushes, 
 directly to the well, and, just as I entered it, I could 
 hear distinctly the thick breathing of persons engaged 
 in a violent struggle. In an instant a female rushed 
 by me, followed by a ruffian, in the form of a man. 
 The woman fell, apparently from exhaustation, and, 
 from the impulse of the moment, I knocked down her 
 pursuer. One look informed me what the party were. 
 In the female I recognized Lucy O'Leary, an interest- 
 ing girl — or rather a rustic beauty — and in the other 
 Major White — the prosecutor of Father Roach. 
 
 Tnis gentleman was a resident landlord, lived always 
 on his estate, and spent his fortune — an ample one — 
 in his native country; yet a greater blessing could not 
 be conferred on the neighborhood than his perpetual 
 absence. 'He had been a soldier in his youth,' and 
 fought hard — at least in the war in Venus. Satiated 
 with the debauchery of a town life, ho returned to the 
 country; but, wanting those intellectual attainments 
 which render solitude agreeable, he amused himself in 
 laying snares for all the pretty women and girls who 
 lived within reach of his pestilential influence. The 
 wives and daughters of his own tenantry were the pe- 
 culiar objects of persecution; and none can know the 
 misery of their situation but such as have witnessed 
 the blessed effects of a virtuous and resident aristo- 
 cracy. 
 
 The well-known chastity of my country-women needs 
 no eulogium ; but it would be claiming for them an 
 exemption from the frailties of human nature to say 
 that none of them has ever fallen. Alas ! virtue in 
 Ireland, as well as elsewhere, is purest in the absence 
 of temptation, and our neighborhood knew nothing of 
 ruined daughters and faithless wives until Major 
 White lookup his residence among us. Partial as his 
 base triumphs were, they still filled the aged with ap- 
 prehension, and the virtuous with pain ; Father Roach, 
 
388 
 
 miSH MISCELLANY. 
 
 in particular, exerted himself to counteract the vil- 
 lUn's nns, and happily siicoeeded. Popular indigna- 
 tion and nbhorrenee forced the nmjor's victims to quit 
 gociety, while the universal dread he inspired put every 
 one on their guard. Defeated at length in most of 
 his vile schemes, be attributed the opposition he en- 
 conotered to the exhortations ot Father lioach, and, 
 when that worthy clergyman had unconsciously offend- 
 ed against the penal laws, the prosecution was carried 
 on at White's expense. 
 
 Though at this period a miscreant of fifty, he had 
 long persecuted Lucy O'Lcary, the daughter of his 
 tenant, Tim O'Leary. The poor girl dreaded him 
 with that instinctive horror with wliieh innocence is 
 always armed, and was on this evening about fetching 
 water from the well, when she was attacked by the 
 ' hoary sinner,' who had lam in wait for hir. Though 
 emaciated by a life of depravity. Lacy would have had 
 little chance in escaping from him, had not I provi- 
 dentially came to her assistance. The wretch, on 
 arising, stood before me as if petrified with fear, his 
 limbs trembled, and an ashy hue overspread his face. 
 Kecollcciing his many crimes, my arm was raised to 
 give him another blow; but, looking at his defenceless 
 attitude, 1 forbore, and commanded him to be gone. 
 The 'ruling passion' is strong, even in death. Accus- 
 tomed to be obeyed, 1 he major, in spite of his fears, 
 could not brook such an insult. Calling up all bis 
 dignity, he asked, ' How dare you, plebeian, address 
 me in that manner V 
 
 ' Bridle your choler,' I replied, 'and forbear to as- 
 sume the major here. You are a wretch ; and, by the 
 name of my father, if you don't instantly quit this 
 place, I'll serve you as you deserve.' 
 
 ' Insolent !' he returned, and scarcely had the word 
 been well out of his mouth, when I seized him in my 
 arms, and threw him into a furze bush ; then, raising 
 Lucy from the ground, I carried her to the well, and, 
 on her recovering from her fright, I conducted her to- 
 wards her father's house. The anguish of her worthy 
 parents knew no bounds when they learned from me 
 the nature of the recountre which had taken place. 
 'Thank Heaven!' ejaculated Tim after some time, 
 with a pious composure, ' my daughter is safe, and 
 White may do his worst.' 
 
 CHAPTEB XX. 
 
 OUTLAWED. 
 
 The progress of these nemoirs has now brought me 
 to ih.ii p.:ciod when the scones of my eventful life may 
 be said to have commenced. Ere I enter upon the 
 singular details which compose it, let me pause upon 
 the threshold ; and, like a dying prophet, survey at 
 one glance the past and future. Alas ! what was then 
 to me the future has now become the past, and, as I 
 look upon the long perspective of years ' gone by,' 
 and think of my country's wrongs — of my family's 
 downfall — of the suflferings of my friends and the in- 
 aalta of my enemies — I almost blush for my late 
 resolves. Am I not apostate to the genuine cause of 
 Rockglen ? Are not my pcacelul counsels treason 
 against the majes'.y of the name I bear .' These ques- 
 tions I dare not answer at this moment, for I have just 
 been reading the ' History of Ireland.' ' Alas ! poor 
 coantry — almost ashamed to know thyself!' — I cannot 
 weep for thy wrongs. My feelings are too intense for 
 tears, and all the blood which age has left me now 
 madly boils through every veins. England, guilty as 
 thou bast been, I cannot scarcely curse thee, for. Irish- 
 men, the fault was your own. You have always been 
 divided; and, consequently, a prey to every speculating 
 villian who visited your shores. Once, twice, three, 
 ftye,a thousand times, independence was in your grasp; 
 but, liJie the bones of Ovid, you no sooner acquired 
 strength than you began to slay each other. Let 
 moralists say what they may, ourown follies are a pal- 
 liation of the cruelties inflicted on us, for the man who 
 had it in his power to free himself from a venomous 
 reptile, and would not, deserved to be stung. Yet, if 
 Baynal is right, there is a national as well as an indi- 
 vidoal retribution, and those who rule the destinies of 
 
 these countries should look to it in season. It is a 
 trite remark that great events often take their rise from 
 trivial occurences. With ino this was peculiarly the 
 case, for the recounter with White preccpiialcd me on 
 authoriiv even before my father died, liut, not to an- 
 ticipate, let me continue my narrative. 
 
 Tim O'Leary, as I have already stated, was tenant 
 to Major White ; but, having seven or eight years of 
 his lease unexpired, he considered himself in some 
 measure independent. Still the character of his land- 
 lord, and the well-known baseness of Irish landlords in 
 general, inspired the poor man at lirst with terror ; but, 
 seeing his child safe, and being acuusioined, like all 
 Catholics, to confide in the protection of Heaven, he 
 quickly resumed his wonted composure, uud insisted 
 on my stopping to partake of part of a jar of potheen. 
 ' Sit down, old woman,' said he to his wife ; ' God is 
 stronger than the divil any how, and, since Lucy is 
 safe, what have we to fear 1 The ould stocken has got 
 a few ' yallow boys ' in it,'and the bit o' land is ours 
 for seven years at any rate, and ugen then God knows 
 what king reigns. Sit down, Lucy alannah, by the 
 young captain, who, I hope, will make a better man 
 than his father, though he is not a bad one neather.' 
 
 Lucy blushed, and complied. I had often he.trd of 
 her beauty, but until this evening she never appeared 
 to mo particularly handsome. She was about the 
 middle size, elegantly formed, and possessed a most 
 bewitching pair of ancles. Her eyes were blue, and 
 her auburn hair fell down in ringlets of Nature's color- 
 ing upon her neck and cheeks, which, though lovely, 
 wanted that delicate whiteness which interested me so 
 much in Susan. Lucy's rosy cheeks indicated health; 
 and, as the painters say, every thing was in perfect 
 keeping with the tacit promise of her countenance. 
 Her manners were of that gi-ntle kind which gradual- 
 ly wins esteem, and, before I had been an hour in her 
 company, I found myself under the intiuence of vague 
 aflFection, quite undefined, but yet strong enough to 
 persuade me that it was an incipient passion of an 
 honorable species. My vanity whispered that she 
 would not prove unkind, and 1 was beginning to feel 
 myself rery agreeably situated by her side, when Owen, 
 my foster-brother, entered. 
 
 'Run, run!' cried he. 
 
 'Where?' said I. 
 
 ' Any place,' he returned. ' Major White, and all 
 his men, are after looking for you at home, and are 
 coming this way as sure as you live, fori heard them 
 whispering all about it.' 
 
 The thing was too probable to admit of a doubt, 
 and too serious to be trifled with. I therefore instantly 
 arose, and was on the point of departure, when Lucy 
 requested to be my companion. 
 
 ' Here,' said she, ' I dare not stay. Who will pro- 
 tect me 1 who will save me from the villian V 
 
 ' I will,' said I, placing my left arm around her 
 waist, while Tim grasped my right. ' Decimus ' was 
 all he uttered ; but in the squeeze he gave my hand 
 there was all the force of mute eloquence. Words 
 could not have said as much, and, as I returned his 
 pressure, I resolved not to betray his confidence. There 
 was no time for lamentation, for O'Leary's only son, 
 I'att — a boy of fourteen — spied the enemy at the bot- 
 tom of the ' boughereen.' At this alarming intelli- 
 gence Lucy's mother gave her a parting kiss, and, 
 with all the rapidity of persons in danger, we slipped 
 through the garden gate, and quickly descended into 
 the dale, the scene of my late encounter with the major. 
 To my surprise Owen did not accompany us; he had 
 come as far as the garden, but whether he stopped there 
 or not I could not tell. For him, however, I could 
 have no apprehension, for I knew his usual adroitness 
 was sufficient to extricate him out of any conceivable 
 difliculty; yet, situated as I wts with regard to Lucv, I 
 wished he had been with us. In the hope that he might 
 join us in a few minutes we paused, and while my ear 
 was stretched to catch every distant sound, we heard 
 the report of a pistol evidently discharged in the neigh- 
 borhood of O'Leary's house. Lucy started, and then 
 involuntarily threw herself into my arms. In an in- 
 
 stant the first shot was answered by a dozen others in 
 succession ; and, ere the last one was tired, my fair 
 charge had exclaimed, 'Oh, my father!' and sunk 
 upon the ground. My situation was now by no means 
 an enviable one ; scarcely two thousand yards from 
 our pursuers — Lucy helpless — and myself unarmed. It 
 was probable that White's party would scour the val- 
 ley; and, though it was possible that in case of such an 
 event I might make my escipo, Lucy must have ine- 
 vitably fallen into their power. The bare appre- 
 hension of such a thing gave me inconceivable alarm; 
 and, though 1 had resolved to protect her with my 
 life, still 1 could not think, but with horror, of Lucy 
 falling into the hands of her persecutor. Flight was 
 now my only resource, and, by gently agita-ting my 
 fair burden, I succeeded in restoring her to herself. A 
 rustling among the bushes behind us proved a new 
 cause of alarm ; but the presence of Owen quickly dU- 
 sipitated our fears. 
 
 ' I have done for him, the ould rascal !' said he. 
 
 ' Done for whom V I inquired. 
 
 ' For the blaggard major,' he replied. 
 
 ' Good God !' I cried, ' sure it wasn't yon, Owen, 
 who fired the first shot ?' 
 
 ' Arrah, who else would it be 1' replied my foster- 
 broiher, with an imperturbable countenance. 
 
 ' Wretch !' I exclaimed, ' how dare you take upon 
 yourself to inlerfere in my quarrel V 
 
 • Och, musha,' said Owen, ' will you not be afther 
 hearing all about it ? Faith sure it wasn't your quar- 
 rel at ail at all, but all my own, astore; and sure ent I 
 flesh and blud like another Christian ! Didn't I owe 
 the major on ould grudge for what he done, the big 
 ould blagguard, to my poor sisther, Kate — the very 
 first of her family that ever disgraced a M'Fharland ?j 
 I had it in for him, and so doing a little for your sake, 
 and a great deal for my own sweet self, I gave him a 
 supper of lead, which, like carrots, as they say, will 
 never come through hinr; though it done tl^at already, 
 for I'm sure it went a mile beant him, for I pnlt ths' 
 bit of trigger with all the veins in my heart.' 
 
 ' And so, Owen,' said I, with determined coolness, 
 ' you have become an assassin.' 
 
 'Why, masther Decimus,' he replied, 'myself don't 
 exactly know what you mean by an assassin; but, if you 
 mean what I mean, that is, that a body ought always 
 to stand up for a sisther's honor, that body am I, and 
 bad luck to the boy that would'nt.' 
 
 ' You have done, sir,' I rejoined, 'what was very 
 wrong, and must answer for it either in this world or 
 in the next.' 
 
 ' Oh, very well,' said he, ' but there is no use in 
 talken about it when it's done ; but if you'd be after 
 taken a fool's advice, you'd not stop here, for I be bail 
 the blood -hounds will soon be afther me, for sure their 
 bullents flew like hail about my ears, enough to kill 
 twenty men.' 
 
 The indiscretion of my foster-brother had increased 
 our danger; and, as the night had now become quite 
 dark, we knew not well what to do. At about two 
 miles distant, on the side of the mountain, stood the 
 cabin of a trusty friend; and, as we did not deem it 
 prudent to venture to Rockglen, we proceeded to the 
 solitary house of Bryan Magnire. Lucy rested on my 
 arm, and Owen walked before us. The night was as 
 silent as death. Not a breath of wind rustled among 
 the trees, and even the cabin cars had desisted from 
 their usual clamor. We were therefore left to our own 
 meditations, and mine, at least, were none of the most 
 pleasant, for in addition to the assassination of White, 
 the sobs and sighs of Lucy pierced my heart. In less 
 than an hoar we reached Mr. Maguire's mountain- 
 home, and Bryan, being aroused from his slumbers 
 admitted us, and with some difSculty provided the 
 means of taking our repose for the night. In the 
 morning our host went out to ascertain the disposition 
 of our enemies, and in a few hours returned with the 
 fearful intelligence that Rockglen was beset with sol- 
 diers, and that the magistrates of the country had been 
 summoned to a meeting in the county court house, for 
 the purpose of devising means to discover the persona 
 who attempted the life of Major White, that gentleman 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 389 
 
 having escaped the arm of Owen. I was particularly 
 marked out ns au objcci of vengeance, for the major 
 liad converted my interference in favor of Lucy into an 
 attempt at assassination. An authnv, therefore, I had 
 become — a wonderer from my father's roof. 
 [To he Continued.] 
 
 PROFUNDITY. 
 
 The temptation to ho profound is very preat, and it 
 requires a strong mind, or an honest heart, to resist it- 
 Nobody likes to be thought shallow, so they who can- 
 rot make manifest how deep they are, take especial 
 good care to conceal their shallowness. Now there is 
 nothing so well calculated to disguise shallowness as 
 mud; but the mud must be stirred up, and kept in a 
 fermentation for the purpose. For aught that the eve 
 can discern to the contrary, a puddle by the road side, 
 formed by an hour's rain, may be as deep as the At 
 laniic Ocean. The temptation to an assumption of 
 profundity, is altogether very natural and easy to be 
 accounted for, seeing that it is an easy and compendious 
 mode acquiring a reputation; and thjt a reputation 
 once so acquired is perfectly safe, inasmuch as no one 
 can by any possibility detect or expose the cheat. 
 
 There are profound talkers as well as profound wri 
 ters, and your profound talkers have the best of it, for 
 it is impossible to find them out. What is written and 
 printed, may be read over again, canvassed, sifted, and 
 examined; but that which is said, vanishes, evaporates, 
 is gone, leaving not a single idea in the mind of the 
 hearer. A profound talker will tell you that he can 
 think, and he can talk, but that he cannot write. Very 
 true, because he has nothing to write about ; and the 
 nothing is not so readily deetected in talking, and in 
 thinking, as it is in writing. Writing is a substance 
 that yon may take by the nose and bring to a confes- 
 sion ; but talking is a mere ghost, a flitting shadow — 
 which is here, there, everywhere, and nowhere. You 
 try to catch it, but you get only a handful of air. Pro- 
 found talking has the advantage over profound writ- 
 ing, because in talking you may select your audience. 
 and take care that no profane anti-mysterialist shall 
 question your oracles. When you write profundities, 
 and give them to the world, you don't know how may 
 get hold of them and condense your ocean of froth 
 into a thimbleful of slop. The shallower a man is, the 
 more intensely he admires profundity; he who under- 
 stands nothing, understands all things equally well; 
 and when a man fears lest his ignorance should be de- 
 tected on subjects which everybody understands, his 
 best resource is to plunge into prolundities, and then, 
 i when he is completly out of sight, he is quite safe. 
 ' Thus have I known ambitious simpletons who, not 
 having capacity for Greek or Latin, or other detectable 
 i studies, have betaken themselves to the instructabili- 
 ( ties of Orientalism, and have looked marvellously wise 
 I; in Arabic, Sanserit, Bengalee, and all that sort of 
 |i thing. So again those whose understandings have not 
 ■I been strong enough to bare them safely over the 'Pons 
 isinorum ' in Euclid's Elements, have cut a very pretty 
 figure in gabbling and prating about transcendental- 
 ism. I know a very ingenious gentleman, who has 
 oever read a line of Newton's Principia, and knows 
 abont as much mathematics, as Mr. Bellenden Ker of 
 Dutch, who is perpetually propounding new theories 
 jf universe, new doctrines of the motion, quality, and 
 3sc of the planets, and new notions of the comets. In 
 proposing these theories, and in starling these profun- 
 iities, he, for the most part, keeps clear of inathema- 
 icians, seeing that in his mystic and twilight flights 
 heir demonstrations have sometimes knocked him 
 lov.n, as boys knock down bats by throwing their hats 
 It them. Sarely the flights of profundity may be not 
 iiapily compared to the flitting movements of these 
 imbiguons animals ; they are a kind of something — 
 1 lothing ; seen — but not seen ; quick — but not progres- 
 liive; a sort of black lightning; a shadow that has no 
 abstance ; you never see where they come from, nor 
 There they go to, nor what they come for. They are 
 Vnimal comets — in the system, but not of it. But the 
 lateit profundity of ali ia profoond thinking ; write 
 
 1 
 
 C A 11 R I G A L I N L '„ A b i L 
 
 profoundly, and everybody may find you out ; talk 
 profoundly, and sotnebody may find you out ; but think 
 profoundly, and nobody can find you out. It may be 
 asked, how is it to be known that you think profound- 
 ly, unles you make known your thoughts by talking 
 or writing. Easily enough; shake your head as Lord 
 Burleigh does in The Critic. Tou will be astonished 
 after a few of these ' ambiguous givings out.' with 
 wha* ease you have obtained the reputation of being a 
 profound thinker. 
 
 CARRICALINE CASTLE. 
 
 Six miles from Cork, on the Onbouy river (so 
 called from the peculiar yellowish color which its 
 waters assume during the winter), is situated the 
 village of Carrigaline. Though now a place of no 
 great importance, it was once apparently destined 
 to rank higher. The first Earl of Cork, out of 
 pique to the corporation of that city, (who felt so 
 suspicious of him as to enter in their council 
 books a law that no citizen should sell any lands 
 or estate to that nobleman) proposed to build at 
 Carrigaline a town to rival Cork, over which it 
 should have the advantage of being much 
 nearer to the sea, and had so far proceeded as to 
 have marked out the ground plan of a very exten- 
 sive city. The rebellion of 16il put a stop to the 
 undertaking, and it was finally abandoned on the 
 death of the earl. 
 
 Carrigaline was one of the many parishes with 
 which the College of Youghal was endowed at its 
 foundation, but in these, our times, has no connex- 
 ion whatever with it. The parish church, though 
 of small dimensions, is a very chaste specimen of 
 Gothic architecture, and was built by G. R. Pain, 
 Esq. 
 
 Near the west end of the church is a tomb of the 
 Newenham family ; it was ornamented with a num- 
 ber of figures, designed in good taste, but owing to 
 the frail material in which they were executed, 
 (lead) and the neglect of those who were most in- 
 terested in its preservation, it has been so battered 
 and bruised, that little more than the inscription 
 now remains to be admired. 
 
 Close by the church is the ruined castle, more 
 interesting from its picturesque appearance than 
 from any architectural remains which it possesses. 
 However, though it is now a desolate and time- 
 
 worn pile, it was once the pride of its owners, and 
 in Queen Elizabeth's time could boast of being im- 
 pregnable — a circumstance not altogether unlikely, 
 judging from its natural situation, and from the 
 extent and character of the works. It is built on 
 the summit of an immense rock of limestone, which 
 rises abruptly at the river side, but gradually slopes 
 towards the land, as shown in the sketch. The 
 castle is said, by Doctor Smith, (in his History of 
 Cork) to have been built by the family of the 
 Cogans, and afterwards to have been possessed by 
 the Deraonds, but h"; does not add at what period 
 either of those circumstances occurred. 
 
 In the year 1589, the squadron under the com- 
 mand of Sir Francis Drake, having been chased by 
 a large Spanish fleet, entered Cork harbor, and 
 sailing up the narrow creek, at the upper end of 
 which the castle is built, took shelter not far from 
 its walls. The Spaniards quickly followed, but 
 not knowing the harbor, sailed round and round its 
 shores in search of them, but in vain. Sir Francis 
 lay at anchor in perfect safety in the calm waters of 
 a sweep of the river, which has been since called 
 Drakespool, 
 
 The destruction of the castle is, by popular tra- 
 dition, ascribed to a family feud. The wife of Des- 
 mond, the lord of the castle, complained to her 
 father, who was one of the M-Dermoifs, of iU 
 treatment, who immediately, aided by his vassals, 
 stormed the castle, rescued his daughter, and 
 finally reducei the fortress to its present condi- 
 tion. 
 
 Doing Witholt. — A ministerial acquaintance of 
 ours, who had lost his wife, and become wearied of 
 his second edition of the single .state, was once instruc- 
 ting a congregation from the passage, ' Use this world 
 as not abusing it,' &c. In the course of his lemarks 
 he look occasion to mention some things which a 
 Christian could dispense with in this world. In this 
 category he placed a wile. He had, however, scarcely 
 said ' A man may do without a wife,' when his own 
 experience stoutly protested, and he finished this 
 branch of the subject by saying, in the simphcily of 
 his heart, ' but its mighty hard.' 
 
 Bowie knives arc now made with the following ia- 
 scription ou them,— 'The common law of Kansas. 
 
390 
 
 IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 STICK TOCETHER. 
 
 Wben mliltt the wrecks of fire and smoke, 
 
 Wlieu cnnnons rend the skien «»under, 
 Aiiil tierce drnuooiis witli quickening stroke, 
 
 Upon tlio reeling regiment tliunder, 
 The ranks close up to sharp command, 
 
 Till helmet's tcatlier touches fealher; 
 Compuct. the furious shock they stand, 
 
 And conquer, for they stick together. 
 
 When now, 'mid clouds of woe and want, 
 
 Our comrade's wails rise faster and luter, 
 And charging wildly on our front 
 
 Come the hlack legions of disaster; 
 Shall we present a wavering baud, 
 
 And Uy like leaves beloro wild weather' 
 Ho ! side by side, and hand in hand. 
 
 We'll stand our ground and stick together. 
 
 God gave us hands— one left, one right— 
 
 The first to help ourselves, the other 
 Tostretch abroad in kindly might. 
 
 And help along our faithful brother; 
 Then il you see a brother lull, 
 
 And bow his head before the weather. 
 
 If you be not dai turds all. 
 
 You'll help him up, and stick together. 
 
 MY CONSULSHIP. 
 
 ROME AND POPE PIUS THE NINTH 
 
 BY C. BD^WARDS LKSTEB. 
 
 Toward evening, on the 17th of July, 1846,as the 
 
 ntd, back of the palace, and walked for two hours. I classes gathered around the massive walls of the 
 Ue'heard the murmur that rose over the city ; it castle of St. Angelo. The gates of the castle open- 
 came on his oar stronger and stronger, like the in- cd, and the liberated captives came forth. I can- 
 rolling tide of the sea. At last the shouts broke not describe the scene which followed, and I shall 
 up into heaven. It was the grateful sound he had j not attempt it. It is not strange— when fathers 
 hoped for ; during the thirty days of his reign he i and sons, husbands and wives, and mothers and 
 had consoled himself with its anticipation. At last loved ones, pressed to their hearts, under the free 
 it came. lie had sounded the bugle-blast of free- open sky, those whom they had expected to meet 
 
 thousand bells of Bome were chimine the Ave 
 Marie, ivhen Pius IX. had reigned thirty days, 
 without previous intimation from any quarter, an 
 edict was affixed simultaneously on the walls and 
 squares, and most frequented parts of the city, 
 proclaiming a general amnesty for all political of- 
 fences. 
 
 This was the first note of mercy or peace which 
 had been struck from the broken lyre of Italy for a 
 whole generation, and if the edict had been sent 
 from heaven, and affixed by unseen hands, it could 
 not have been received with greater astonish- 
 ment. 
 
 The population rushed to the comers of the 
 streets, where torches were held, and those nearest 
 read to the crowd the touching words of pardon, 
 which gave back to their bereaved country so many 
 of its proscribed and unhappy sons. Throughout 
 that populous city, there was not a soul, foreigners 
 excepted, that ivas not immediately concerned in 
 the edict — hardly one who did not instantly recall 
 the image of some lost one, who would receive 
 those words of pardon in the gloom of his prison or 
 the bitterness of e.xile. 
 
 A chorus cry of joy rang at the same instant 
 through every part of the capitol. There seemed 
 to be but one heart in Rome, j nd it beat only pul- 
 sations of joy — there seemed to be but one desire in 
 Rome, and that was to see the face of their great 
 benefactor ; and, as if by common instinct, from 
 the most distant extremities of the city a movement 
 began, and from the four quarters of the capitol the 
 thickening stream went rushing up to the palace. 
 
 The multitude, wild with ecstacy and gratitude, 
 cried out for their ' father.' Their voice was heard 
 by the good man of the house, and he went upon 
 the ' loggia ' to thank and bless his people. 
 
 As it grew dark, torches were seen flaming at the 
 comers of all the streets where the edict had been 
 affixed, and dense crowds were gathered around 
 each notice. Those in the front ranks kneeled, so 
 that those behind might look over their heads, 
 forming little amphitheatres of overjoyed weeping 
 people, smiling throug'n their tears, and looking up 
 at the edict, again and again, half incredulous, as 
 though after all it was too good to be true. Where- 
 ever there was a copy of the edict, there was clus- 
 tered one of these groups ; and there were shining 
 there bright torches, as large and as handsome as 
 the Romans keep burning before the shrines of 
 their saints. 
 
 At dusk, Pius went into the gardens of the Quiri 
 
 dom, that was to wake the nations of Europe, and 
 the response of the people had come back ; hence- 
 forth he knew that he was not alone. 
 
 In less than an hour, the en'.iro population of 
 Rome had either read or heard the proclamation of 
 pardon, and the popular enthusiasm bri>ke forth 
 again, wilder than ever; once more the cry rose 'to 
 Monte Cavallo.' Bands of young men led the 
 throngs which swept in, stronger and denser, till the 
 great Quirinal palace was packed, and again the ex- 
 ulting myriads uttered the name of Pio Nono. The 
 Pope apppeared once more on the 'loggia' of the 
 palace, attended by torches. 
 
 It was no longer jubilee nor acclamation. That 
 mighty ocean of men and women and children 
 seemed to be lashed into a frenzy of delirium. 
 Rome itself, as one of her own poets said, hud gone 
 mad for love. Shouts and ' vivas ' rent the sky, so 
 wild, that the tumultuous mass of two hundred 
 thousand seemed to be swayed by the tempest of a 
 revolution. 
 
 But on the balcony stood the new champion of 
 liberty— the father of his people— the regenerator of 
 Italy— the pardoner, whiuh glorious titles gave him, 
 even by concession of Protestants themselves, claim 
 to that higher title — vicegerent of the Saviour ! 
 There stood Pio Nono, the Pope of the people — the 
 first they had had since Hildebrand. He lifted his 
 arms and eyes to heaven, and tried to bless his peo- 
 ple, but his heart was too full, his voice failed him, 
 and they could only see his lips move and the tears 
 stream from his beaming face. 
 
 Rome seemed that night to be swayed by a single 
 will ; and, as if the wand of an enchantress had 
 passed over her towers, a brilliant illumination rose 
 like a clear daybreak over the city. There had been 
 no expectation of the amnesty on that day ; there 
 had been no concert among the people ; and yet 
 from the entire city a light broke forth, and flashed 
 far up into heaven. The stately mansions of the 
 rich gleamed with large wax torches, and the hum- 
 ble dwellings of the poor twinkled with tiny wax 
 tapers. The illumination brightened as the hours 
 passed on, and at midnight the city seemed bathed 
 in an ocean of flame. 
 
 The crowd once more called for the Pontiff, and 
 again he appeared with his blessing. I'hey answer- 
 ed him with a shout, which was heard in the dis- 
 tant extremities of the city. It penetrated many a 
 sick chamber, and the dying asked what it meant ■ 
 It was the music of pardon — that rich word, which, 
 in the solemn hour, sounds dearer than all others. 
 It was the last word which fell upon the ear of 
 many a dying svifTerer in Rome that evening, and 
 the first word that greeted him in heaven. When 
 the sovereign laid himself down to sleep that night 
 the last sounds he heard were airs of liberty and 
 triumph, from a thousand instruments, mingUng 
 with the wild shouts of a finally emancipated peo- 
 ple. 
 
 ■\Vhile Bome was sleeping late that night, fleet 
 horses were bearing couriers with the joyful news to 
 the four quarters of the globe through which the 
 sons of Italy had been driven, waiting in sadness 
 and hope, like the scattered children of Abraham, 
 for the coming of the deliverer. As the couriers 
 spurred their steeds across the last hill tops that 
 overlooked the distant capitol, Rome seemed to 
 the flying messengers like an enchanted vision. 
 Cccsai's city, too, was to have her Three Glorious 
 Days. Thus ended the first. 
 
 On the following morning, the population of all 
 
 no more in this world — that even those who had no 
 personal interest in the spectacle, could not refrain 
 their tears. 
 
 These scenes of tenderness were renewed at every 
 corner of the streets. From every door the pris- 
 oners passed, came flying some friend supposed to 
 be dead. Some of the prisoners rushed wildly to 
 their homes, in distant parts of the city ; and 
 others, who had no homes to fly to, when they first 
 found themselves under the kind, free heavens, 
 stopped and gazed about them a moment, like 
 beasts let out of cages where they had been long 
 confined, uttered piercing shrieks of joy, and burst 
 into tears, or dashed away through the multitude 
 of gazing strangers, to some solitary place, and sat 
 themselves down and wept. It was a day of great 
 sadness and of immeasurable joy ; more tears flow- 
 ed in Rome on that day of universal liberation than 
 any tjTant could have wrung from the same people 
 by the horrors of the rack. So much stronger is 
 clemency than despotism. 
 
 Slany of the emancipated prisoners, for the mo- 
 ment, forgot all other feelings in the desire to see * 
 their Prince, and they hurried to the Quirinal to 
 cast themselves at his feet. There were two whose 
 heroism and sufferings had excited a peculiar sym- 
 pathy, and for whose liberation the most unwearied 
 applications had been made to Gregory's govern- 
 ment, but all without success, for men who had 
 laid one obstacle in the way of Lambruschini's am- 
 bition there was no mercy. 
 
 These two were Renzi and Galletti — names dear 
 to all Italy. One afterward became a minister of 
 state under Fius IX. They were at once admitted 
 to the PontifTs presence. They fell at the feet of 
 their deliverer in tears ; but they could not speak. 
 Pius raised them kindly and embraced them with 
 the love of a father who had just found his lost 
 children . 
 
 As he held these bold conspirators to his breast, 
 he said — 
 
 ' I am happier to-day than I ever was ; my sons 
 have come back. You will never leave me ; you 
 will love me ; your reason, matured by experience 
 and suffering is strong enough now to overcome 
 the impetuosity of youth ; you will be good sub-. 
 jects ?' 
 
 ' I swear it,' said Galletti, kissing the pontificiaL 
 cross, 'by the sign of our redemption.' 
 
 The sun had hardly gone to his setting on the 
 day of the 'Liberation,' when the city, as if impa- 
 tient to give vent to its joy, shone forth -n-iih an 
 other illumination. With the exception of the 
 reign that had just closed, there was not a dwelling 
 in Rome that was not illuminated. From the cor- 
 ridors, the open galleries and high windows of the 
 palaces of the noble, to the humble dwellings of the •; 
 poor, tall wax candles and little tapers were gleam>'V 
 ing. Those who looked with coldness and suspi- * 
 cion on the new government shut themselves up in 
 their houses and darkened their windows, -while the 
 rest of the population poured into the streets to 
 mingle with the crowd of prisoners who had that 
 day emerged from the dungeons of St. Angelo. 
 
 Before nine o'clock the entire piazza of the Quiri- 
 nal was crowded. Bands of young men in tens, 
 twenties and hundreds, came up from every quar- 
 ter of the town, with torches and banners, and 
 songs and airs in praise of the Pontiff. Uniting in 
 the centre of the square, they formed an immense 
 crown of torches, with colors waving on every side. 
 One of the bannere sho-wed the family stem of 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 391 
 
 Mastai (the nam of the Pope), on a white and yel- 
 low field, ornaiKnted with sprigs of olive, in token 
 of peace. Thes were many of the tri-oolor, which 
 hi,l not b32n s^n i'l Italy fjr thirty years except 
 as a sigiiof reJlution — bearing inscriptions — 'viva 
 la clemenza'-' ^''^'i P'O IX.' — 'viva I'ainenestia' — 
 while othersiare tha edict of pardon, printed in 
 gold, and »riched with emblems of peace, liberty 
 and hope. -A- few moments after, high and clear 
 above the^outs of the multitude, a stirring chorus 
 burst fort from one of the large streets opening on 
 the Piazj and a thomand flaming torches lit up 
 the scenl'ke a conflagration. The chorus came 
 from twvc hundred of the Filarmonici of Rome, 
 with serai of the best martial bands of the city 
 blendfinto one. They had that day met at the 
 theatr^rgentina, to practice a new hymn, written 
 by vii in honor of the Pontiff. 
 
 Pfided by torches and a magniSeent standard, 
 the Jcession entered the Piazza, and as the crowd 
 opel they advanced under the windows of the 
 QiJial. A great deal has been said about the 
 jjjoal genius of the Italians, but it probably sur- 
 p^s all ideas foreigners have formed of it. This 
 osion illustrated it ; the crowd learned the 
 (fus after hearing it twice, and more than a hun- 
 
 burning tapers, inscriptions, portraits of the Pope, 
 and the arms of the Mastai family, wrought in sil- 
 ver and gold. The illumination shone on and end- 
 ed Rome's second Glorious Day ! 
 
 The enthusiastic joy which had now reigned for 
 two days in the metropolis had hardly subsided on 
 the day of the ' Liberation,' before Rome was in 
 motion again, for it was known that Pio was to 
 proceed at nine o'clock the following morning to 
 assist in some religious service in the Mission 
 church, in the central part of the city. The way 
 the pontifical cortege was to pass was crowded 
 soon after daylight. At nine o'clock the bells an- 
 nounced the departure from the palace. 
 
 When the Pontiff's carriage came in sight, accla- 
 mations rose from the piazza and rang down the 
 street, which was lined by crowds on either side. 
 The most beautiful boquettes were thrown from 
 the balconies, and every step of the way was strewn 
 with flowers. From the windows the most gorge- 
 ous draperies of different colored satins, velvets and 
 cloths of gold, with ornamented banners, v/ere 
 streaming. 
 
 On the return to the palace, the crowd had thick- 
 ened, and the popular enthusiasm broke out into 
 the wildest joy. A company of young men pre- 
 
 d thousand voices joined harmoniously in the sented themselves before the Pope, as he came forth 
 amphal paean. When thechorus ceased the name from the church, to drag his carriage. This was at 
 
 the Pontiff was on every tongue 
 Soon after the great Loggia of the palace was 
 pened, and a train of attendants appeared to 
 ignify that the sovereign was coming. He ap- 
 peared, and was received with deafening shouts and 
 vivas. 
 
 The enthusiasm of the preceding night, which had 
 seemed so wild, was now surpassed, for there was 
 a new class of men there— the liberated prisoners, 
 who had that morning emerged from the gloom of 
 St. Angelo's dungeons. The beloved pastor of 
 Rome lifted his hands and poured down from his 
 full heart the blessings of the God of peace and lib- 
 erty upon the silent host, bowing lowly to the 
 dust. And there was kneeling a band of grateful 
 men breathing the free air of Heaven for the first 
 time in many years. In the torchlight their faces 
 wore that sepulchal hue, which should never cloud 
 the human image of God, for it can never be ac- 
 quired but in a dungeon, and God's glorious sun 
 was made to shine on all his children. Errin" and 
 sinful though they may be, He never hides his 
 blessed beams from any of his creatures till the fit- 
 ful dream of life is over. 
 
 Methinks that were a sight that might well make 
 
 any man weep! 'Father, father!' e.'cclaimed the 
 
 weeping captives under the loggia, and they could 
 
 say no more. 
 
 'Yes,' answered Pio Nono through his tears ' I 
 
 m your father, and I always will be ; you, too, 
 
 laU always be my dearly beloved children.' 
 
 The good man stood for a few moments with his 
 
 nds clasped on his bosom, and his eyes lifted to 
 
 ■aven, as if praying for his people. And the 
 
 ise throng, with their torches held steady, and 
 
 r banners drooping, kneeling before him in 
 
 ice, gazing on the noble form of the Pontiff, 
 
 seemed, like Moses talking with God on the 
 
 itain, to embrace at a glance all the tribes of 
 
 '. The spirit of a better world had descended 
 
 those worshipping myriads, and they kneeled 
 
 nee till the man of God had retired into his 
 
 n the charm which had hung over the assem- 
 
 i broken by some stirring ' viva," the crowd 
 
 intomirching order with that readiness and 
 
 which the Italians are remarkable, and 
 
 I vast procession through the Corso, stop- 
 
 hout their grateful acclamations under the 
 
 of those palaces where the most brilliant 
 
 ons appeared. The entire ' facedes ' of 
 
 <ieediffce6 of Rome were covered with 
 
 once refilsed. But when the cortege reached the 
 Piazza Colonna they renewed their request more 
 earnestly. Again the Pontiff kindly but resolutely 
 protested. 
 
 ' You are men — you are Romans, and I beg you 
 to desist,' were his words. But the fierce joy of 
 the populace could not be restrained. The same 
 band of young men presented a solid phalanx be- 
 fore the carriage — the horses were detached — a rope, 
 two hundred yards in length, was fastened to the 
 coach, and straightened through the crowd, and 
 under a continued shower of flowers they dragged 
 their new sovereign with triumphant shouts back 
 to the Quirinal. From the Loggia he dispensed his 
 blessings upon the palpitating multitude. 
 
 Late that night a considerable company of pale, 
 emaciated men, who had just come out of prison, 
 went up under the windows of the palace and wait- 
 ed till morning in tears and silence. They were 
 poor men, whom the Pope had, from his private 
 purse, that day redeemed from the debtor's prison. 
 The Romans heard of this with delight, emulated 
 the noble example. A subscription was started, 
 and in three days not a debtor in Rome was left in 
 one of its prisons. 
 
 [To be continued.] 
 
 HELEN WALLACE, THE EMIGRANT'S DAUGH- 
 TER. 
 
 A TRUE TALE OF TEXAS. 
 
 A number of years ago, a man by the name of 
 Wallace, of Scotch descent, emigrated to Texas, 
 and settled at a small inland village. His family 
 consisted of himself, wife, daughter, and servant. 
 This daughter, an only child, was then about 
 eighteen years of age, and very beautiful — of a 
 graceful figure, regular features, dark hair, and 
 bright, merry, sparkling black eyes. She had re- 
 ceived a good education, was well accomplished, 
 and soon became the belle of the place. She had 
 one fault, however — a fault common to most pretty 
 women — she was a coquette. 
 
 Among her numerous admirers was a man some 
 thirty years of age — tall, dark, and sinister of aspect 
 — of whom report did not speak altogether favor- 
 ably. He had come to the place a short time sub- 
 sequently to the settlement of Mr. Wallace, and 
 located himself at the village inn, where he gave 
 out that he was a man of wealth. Nothing was 
 known of his history, and there were none who 
 could say he was not what he represented himself; 
 bat tbeie 'were many who believed, for various 
 
 reasons, that he was a professional gambler. He 
 seemed to have plenty of money, and, to far as he 
 could be seen, conducted himself in an upright and 
 honorable manner. But still he was not liked ; 
 there was something too stern and forljidding in the 
 man to make him popular with the people around ; 
 and hence he was regarded with suspicion a..d dis- 
 trust, and many stories were set afloat derogatory 
 to his moral character. James Vaughan — for so he 
 gave his name— seemed not in the least disturbed 
 by these evil reports, but continued to conduct 
 himself as if he believed that all were satisfied with 
 the report which he gave of himself. 
 
 How it was that he first became acquainted with 
 Helen Wallace was not known to the gossiping 
 portion of the village ; but they were suddenly sur- 
 prised to find him received at the dweUing of her 
 father as a welcome guest ; and it was soon rumored 
 that he was treated by Helen herself with marked 
 
 favor. Time passed on — six months glided away 
 
 and still Vaughan remained at his old quarters, and 
 still his visits to the house of Mr. Wallace continued, 
 gradually increasing in frequency, until it was 
 known that scarcely a day passed without a meet- 
 ing between him and Helen. Meantime, there were 
 many other gentlemen who called to see her, and 
 whom she received with polite courtesy ; but 
 Vaughan, it at length became whispered about, -was 
 the favored suitor. 
 
 But the persons who had made such wonderful 
 predictions concerning the future of Helen Wallace 
 were soon destined to meet another surprise, which 
 did much to shake their own faith in their foreknow- 
 ledge of events ; for one morning it was suddenly 
 discoved, and rapidly spread abroad to all concerned, 
 that James Vaughan, the still unknown and un- 
 popular stranger, had disappeared as mysteriously 
 as he came. Eager and earnest were the inquiries 
 set on foot to know what had become of him. 
 None could tell. The landlord of the inn, on being 
 questioned, declared that he had settled his account 
 in good currency, and had stated that business re- 
 quired his absence, beyond which he knew nothing, 
 except that he had departed on foot, in the night, 
 ostensibly for a neighboring town, to take a public 
 conveyance for parts unknown. The Wallaces 
 could give no additional information ; and Helen 
 herself laughingly ieclared that she was not his 
 keeper, and knew not for a certainly that he would 
 ever return. Some few of the more wonder-seeking 
 gossips undertook to raise an excitement by stating 
 that he had probably been secretly dealt with and 
 that his body might sometime or the other mys- 
 teriously come to light ; but even this supposition, 
 greatly to their chagrin, was speedly destroyed by 
 sending parties to the town in question, where it 
 was found that James Vaughan mortal, and not 
 James Vaughan's ghost, had stipulated for a con- 
 veyance, and had taken bodily passage to Nacogdo- 
 ches. This was all that could be gleaned, and all 
 that could be known concerning the man who had 
 been so much talked about ; and the rest, being 
 simply conjecture, soon died out a natural, death. 
 
 Three months more passed away, and Helen Wal- 
 lace was found to be just as gay and lively as ever, 
 — Uie only difference to note being that she had no 
 more suitors than before. Among these latter there 
 was soon numbered one, supposed, like Vaughan, 
 to be more of a favorite than the others, and who, at 
 the time of his departure, was not known in the vil- 
 lage. 'This was a young man some five-and-twenty 
 years of age, of a light complexion, prepossessing 
 appearance, and agreeable manners, who had recent- 
 ly come into the place and opened a shop for trade. 
 In a little village he was dignified by the title of 
 a merchant, and was supposed to be well-to-do in 
 the world, if not absolutely wealthy. 
 
 Henry Cleveland was a very different personage 
 from his supposed rival, and made himself popular 
 with all classes. He, like all the rest, appeared to 
 be smitten with the charms of tho gay Helen ; and 
 
392 
 
 IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 this time the intcreetod 
 go«»ip» declared that he 
 ought to be the favorite 
 suitor, and did all in their 
 power to bring about 'the 
 consummation so devout- 
 ly to be wished," and ap- 
 parently with suceeas, for 
 in a few months the report 
 went abroad that he and 
 Uelen wire engaged. He 
 had now become as atten- 
 tive a9 his absent rival had 
 ever been ; and at length 
 Helen herself announced 
 that he was the chosen one, 
 and that a certain day, 
 sometime yet in the future, 
 was fixed upon for the 
 wedding. This was con- 
 firmed by her own prepa- 
 rations for the great event, 
 and it was generally be- 
 lieved that the wedding 
 would be a brilliant affair. 
 Not to dwell upon the 
 matter, we may briefly 
 state that the anxiously 
 looked-for day at length 
 arrived, and was as suspi- 
 cious of a happy ending 
 as the believers in omens 
 could have wished. It 
 was near the close of sum- 
 mer, and the morning 
 beamed as fair and beauti- 
 ful as the fair and beauii- 
 ful bride herself. The 
 
 residence of Mr. Wallace ~~ " "^^^^^ 
 
 was decorated for the oc- 
 casion with evergreens and 
 
 flowers, and his doors were thrown open to receive 
 the visitors of the bride elect. Many servants were 
 called into requisition, and long tables were spread 
 under arching trees around the dwelling, and laden 
 with substantial and fanciful viands for the enjoy- 
 ment of the guests. I3ut one of these, more beauti- 
 fuUy and elegantly set out than the others, stood a 
 httle apart from the rest, and was the table of honor, 
 or the table of the bride and her immediate friends. 
 A little before noon the clergyman appeared ; the 
 bnde and grooms, with their immediate attendants, 
 took their places 
 
 HELEN WALLACE, 
 and introduced him to such other of the company 
 as he now beheld for the first time. He bowed to 
 each with the same cold formality which was char- 
 acteristic of the man ; and then advancing to the 
 bride, he extended his hand, and said, ' Permit me 
 to congratulate you! You know it was always my 
 desire to be present at your wedding !' 
 
 Her face flushed crimson, and it was observed 
 that she trembled more than ever as she took his 
 hand, and in turn presented him to him who had 
 acquired the title of legal protector. A few civili- 
 
 and then, surrounded by a large : ties were exchanged between the different parties, 
 number of mterested spectators, the solemn cere- | and Mr. Vaughan was invited to become a guest at 
 
 mony was performed which united the happy 
 couple for life. After this, as soon as the many 
 and cordial congratulations were over, the bridal 
 train led the way to the festive board, and all were 
 soon engaged in doing honor to the hospitalities of 
 the provident feast. 
 
 In the midst of these festivities, when the wines 
 were beginning to circulate, and toasts were being 
 drank with smil' - - 
 
 the board of honor. Room was made for him on 
 
 shade paleris the ruby li- 
 quid passedher lips. Her 
 glass, howeer, and that 
 ofhcrhusban, was drain- 
 ed; butitwa8,oticedthat 
 the giver of th toast only 
 slightly wet hisjps, and, 
 making some ajjogy for 
 his abstemious h,i{, g^j 
 his glass down nc.iy fun_ 
 For a few mome<, after 
 this, nothing unus^ ^j,g 
 perceived. Convtatjo^ 
 in all quarters w jg, 
 sumed, and it was e^^nt 
 that, in spite of new Qg. 
 ence, ihe old feeling oij^. 
 viviality was gradually, 
 ing restored, when s. 
 denly Air. Wallace stari 
 up and called out, in 
 tone that sent a chill 
 every heart, ' Good Hea\ 
 en ! what is the matte 
 with Helen r ' The wordi 
 brought the attention ol 
 all directly upon her, and 
 more than one cry of alarm 
 arose as the different guests 
 sprung up in confusion. 
 The bride was, indeed, 
 deathly pale — her eyes 
 were closed — her beautiful 
 features were •« orking al- 
 most convulsively — and 
 she was gradually sinking 
 back in her seat and fall- 
 ' ' --^ ing therefrom. Her hus- 
 
 band, turning to her in 
 alarm, was in the act of 
 reaching out his arm to 
 save her, when he himself was suddenly seized in 
 the same terrible manner, and both would have 
 fallen together, had not some of the excited and 
 now terrified spectators rushed forward and caught 
 them. 
 
 For a few minutes a scene of the wildest con- 
 fusion ensued. Young and old came hurrying up 
 from the different tables, and crowding around in 
 horror ; and, then, in a tremulous, fearful, shud- 
 dering whisper, dark words began to float through 
 the collected crowd, and gradually swelled out in one 
 long, loud, wild, chilling, heart-piercing waii : — 
 ' They are poisoned ! piosoned ! poisoned !' 
 Then suddenly uprose another, a louder and a 
 
 the side of the table opposite the bride, and matters wilder yell — the out-burstitig shriek for vengeance, 
 once more resumed their natural course ; but not quick and terrible, upon the inhuman author 
 
 with the same freedom and hilarity as before all I of the dark deed. Hut he was gone — James 
 
 parties seeming to act under deep restraint. If ; Vaughan was gone ; amid the awful excitement 
 
 Vaughan noticed this, he appeared not to do so, 
 but now and then exchanged a few civU words 
 with those around him, and altogether conducted 
 
 their glasses, and then his own, 
 
 ' My sentiment,' he continued, 'is one which I 
 know you will not refuse. Here is happiness 
 
 ,. ,^ faces, and joyousness was per- [ himself as one who believed himself a welcome 
 
 vadmg the whole assemblage, -at this time, we say, guest. 
 
 like a dark cloud crossing the bright sunlight, and At length, taking up a bottle of wine, he said, 
 casting a shade of gloom over all, there suddenly looking directly at the newly-wedded pair, < WiU 
 appeared upon the scene the unwelcome person of' you permit me to drink a toast with you ?' 
 James ^ aughan. Each looked at him in surprise. Receiving a quiet assent, he reached over, filled 
 and then at each other, with a sort of mysterious 
 wonder; and then all who could catch a view of the 
 face of the happy bride perceived that she had sud- 
 
 flslf'th'!i'o°rr ^^'^^^ ^*^ """^ *''^'"''' tremulous, | through life, and only separation by death ! 
 
 ~, ^"^ **'^,' I The toast was a little singular, and the word '< slowly through that mourning village, following 
 
 ere ivas no perceptible change, however, in the death seemed ill-timed. Why should it have been i that lovely bride and her husband to their last dark 
 appearance of the new-comer ; hisfeatures wore the | uttered then and there ? It was the last word of' and narrow home. But long ere the clods of the 
 same stem, cold, forbidding, sinister aspect. With j the sentence—was pronounced distinctly, though I valley fell upon their coffins-' united in life, and 
 anoth T h ^^'^°^'"°°' ^^ passed one after without emphasis— but it unpleasantly fixed the ; in death not divided ' the breeze of th? forest 
 dLectrt" h' ^ '^'^"^'". ^°"P*' *"<* advanced ' mind upon what nobody cared to think about swayed to and fro the dangling body of their in- 
 latives'' ° d ^ '* h occupied by the bride, her re- j during a wedding feast. Attention was then drawn [ human murderer, whom summary vengeance had 
 r« "^''h V """laants. Mr. Wallace rose, and to aU the different parties, and. tteaiviiie-owas drank J overtaken, and sent to his awful rickoning in thi 
 rsceivea nun with a sort of eonstrained poUteness, ! in a kind of ominous silence, the bride turning a | eternal world 
 
 and confusion he had suddenly disappeared. Y^et 
 he must not escape ! — the very earth would groan 
 to hold upon her fair bosom such a monster ! 
 
 Ah ! then and there was hurrying to and fro, 
 indeed ! with sounds of joy all changed to shrieks 
 of woe ! and sounds of merriment to yells of ven- 
 geance ! Some ran away in horror — some wrung 
 their hands with irrepressible grief — some hurried 
 to seek medical aid — and others flew to arm them- 
 selves, and then follow the author of all this 
 misery. 
 
 W^e need not prolong the tale of woe. Three 
 days later, a solemn funeral procession wound 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 S9S 
 
 IRISH MISCELLANY 
 
 THOMAS O'NEILL .... PUBLISHEK AND PROPKIETOU. 
 
 BOSTON, SATURDAY, JANUARY 20, 1869. 
 
 STEAM COMMUNICATION BETWEEN IRELAND 
 AND CALWAY. 
 
 We have received from Nazro Brothers and 
 Sweeney a phamplet entitled ' Steam Communica- 
 tion,' showing the social, political, and commercial 
 advantages of direct communication between 
 Europe and America via Galway, Ireland, written 
 by Pliny Miles, Esq. There are 122 pages in this 
 work, divided into 13 chapters, upon the interesting 
 topics involved in this subject, which now engrosses 
 the attention of the whole commercial world. In- 
 formation, statistics and proofs are given sufficient 
 to show that this long delayed enterprise is fraught 
 with the greatest importance and advantages to the 
 two hemispheres ; that the old and new worlds are 
 destined to become closer neighbors, and that an 
 increased demand for the productions of these coun- 
 tries is sure to follow. The passage between the two 
 continents, now ten, eleven, and twelve days, will, 
 ere the close of another year, be reduced to five days, 
 and the commercial interests of England and the 
 United States more than doubly enhanced. The 
 British provinces will be made a link in the under- 
 taking, while Ireland will become known to the 
 world as the gateway of Europe. Her resources 
 will be developed, hei water power brought into 
 requisition, and her abundance of labor employed 
 at a higher remuneration. Mr. Miles has, indeed, 
 proven to the interested of both countries the bene- 
 fit of Galway as the entree port of Europe from 
 America. The United States as well as the British 
 Provinces demand it. France acknowledges and 
 accepts it, and the world of progress insists upon 
 it. The author has proven that ' Ireland only lacks 
 steam communication with some foreign nations 
 and colonial possessions to put the business of that 
 country in a far more prosperous condition, and 
 more on an equality with England and Scotland.' 
 But, after the statistical proofs he has adduced of 
 the wrongs done to Ireland, with her acknowledged 
 positon and resources, we cannot agree that she only 
 lacks this for her permanent and social prosperity. 
 Nothing save an independent government will make 
 Ireland what she ought to be — what she was des- 
 tined to be. A domestic govcrnmentcan alone effect 
 that, one like that of 1782, which would unshackle 
 the pinions which bind her wrongs. Nor do we be- 
 lieve with the author, in his dedication, to the 
 Lord Lieutenant of Ireland, that Her Majesty the 
 Queen has taken any interest in aught that pertains 
 or concerns the happiness of the Irish people. No ! 
 it is directly the opposite, and proofs are not want- 
 ing to show that Her Majesty's ministers have 
 throT\-n every obstacle in the way to prevent Ire- 
 land's succeeding in maKing herself known as the 
 great ' half way house ' of the nations of Europe 
 and America. The position of Ireland as the all- 
 fitting place for a packet station has been well known 
 to the British government, and what, we would 
 ask, has that government done, save to throw every 
 obstacle in the way of success ? 
 
 The revolution of 1782 has proven that Ireland's 
 position and her adaptation for commerce, in com- 
 parison with England, was well known to English 
 statesmen, as was her ability and surpassing skill 
 in manufacture8,for the people of England petition- 
 ed to have laws enacted to thwart her woolen trade, 
 and the King complied with the request. Nor are 
 mechanics of Ireland inferior to those of any other 
 country. The foundries of England and Scotland, 
 of course, produce more engineers, because Ire- 
 land's workshops and foundries have been sup- 
 pressed, and those of England and Scotland favor- 
 ed. There has been no avenue left open for Irish 
 
 skill or capital, except it was expended in England, 
 and for her credit. 
 
 Tliere is no want of coal in Irelend,as the pamphlet 
 would seem to admit. There is an abundance of it, 
 and, when needed for a trans- Atlantic steam com- 
 pany, the government will not be able to suppress 
 the mining of it, as she has hitherto done. 
 
 We had intended to have given copious extracts 
 from this excellent work, but the pressure of other 
 interesting matters compel us to be necessarily 
 brief. Nothing but the phamplet itself can give 
 any idea of the number of reasons adduced in be- 
 half of Galway. Every merchant and trading house, 
 every manufacturing and banking establishment, 
 every house interested in the shipment of cotton or 
 breadstuffs, as weU as those importing houses 
 which receive their supplies from Europe, should 
 get the pamphlet, and peruse it, and from it learn 
 the advantages to be deprived by the adoption of 
 the Galway route. The author has given an amount 
 of information that few could bring to the subject, 
 and we trust that the different boards of trade wiU 
 give the matter the consideration its importance de- 
 mands. We close by giving the following ex- 
 tract : — 
 
 ' Government has lately, in one thing, remember- 
 ed Ireland. In seeking some means of raising an ad- 
 ditional revenue, the government has increased the 
 excise duty on distilled spirits in Ireland, equaliz- 
 ing it with England and Scotland. Will not the 
 same government equalize some other matters — 
 ocean mail steamers, for instance ? Galway is the 
 happiest chosen of all localities in Europe for a 
 steam packet station for trade and mail service with 
 North America. If it were once established on any 
 scale proportionate to that of other packet stations 
 and steam lines, in Liverpool, Southampton, and 
 some other ports, there would be a large traffic ; 
 money would flow into Ireland, people there would 
 have more comforts ; they would consume more 
 taxable articles ; larger quantities of tea, sugar, 
 cofi'ee, wines, tobacco, American breadeorn, timber, 
 &c., and while the people would rejoice and be 
 made glad. Her Majesty's treasury would be filled. 
 In short, with the comfort, the prosperity, the com- 
 merce — steam commerce, of course, included ; that 
 is, a packet station, a breakwater, and a fair annual 
 mail subsidy — with all these things, as they are 
 possessed and enjoyed in England, Ireland would 
 be as prosperous as any portion of the United King- 
 dom.' 
 
 A SPEC OF WAR IN EUROPE. 
 
 The latest news from Europe, if not exaggerated, 
 and which will be found in another part of this 
 paper, cannot but be regarded as of the greatest 
 importance. The war cloud which has so ominous- 
 ly hung over Ireland of late, has spread itself over 
 the greater portion of Europe, and is liable to break 
 at any moment with a rage and fury known only 
 to Him who ruleth the destinies of nations. 
 
 The war spirit of France, ever alive, seems about 
 to be let loose upon Austria. Louis Napoleon is 
 evidently ill at ease. The elements of disaffection 
 within his dominions are, no doubt, numerous, and, 
 in such case, his first and main object is to divert 
 the attention of the French people from internal af- 
 fairs to the glory attendant upon a foreign war. 
 The sentiments of hostility which have existed of 
 late between the governments of France and Austria 
 are evidently on the increase, if they have not ere 
 this reached a crisis. The significant jemarks of 
 the Emperor made .at the Tuilleries on New Year's 
 day to the Austrian Embassador, M. Hubner, were 
 evidently not impromptu, but were well weighed 
 and considered, and conveyed a meaning to the 
 Austrian, by whom they were doubtless well un- 
 derstood. The language used on this occasion 
 created much feeling throughout the capital, and 
 had a most sensible effect upon the Bourse, creating 
 considerable of a fall in the French funds. The 
 cause of difficulty between France and Austria 
 seems to have grown principally out of the Italian 
 question. Napoleon, probably fearing those terri- 
 ble hand-grenades, or from some other mysterious 
 
 cause, wishes to introduce some important reforms 
 in the Papal States, but Francis Joseph opposes this 
 measure with all his might and influence. That the 
 most radical reforms are needed in Italy, there can- 
 not but be one opinion on the subject. Italy, as 
 well as Ireland, is in part governed by treacherous 
 and malignant tyrants. 
 
 Though Napoleon is generally regarded as a 
 usurper and tyrant of the first water, still we cannot 
 help thinking that he sympathises in a measure- 
 particularly when it best suits hia purposes — with 
 the downtrodden nations of Europe — Italy, Ireland, 
 Hungary and Poland ; but if we are mistaken in 
 this surmise, we feel confident in making the asser- 
 tion that the great French nation, without which 
 five hundred Napoleons would be but as mere 
 ciphers, not only sympathises with, but is now, as 
 ever, ready to aid them in shaking off the shackles 
 of their despotic rulers, and taking their pro- 
 per rank as free and independent nations. 
 
 To aggravate the difficulty between the French 
 and Austrian governments, it appears that Austria 
 is intent upon a military occupation of Servia, to 
 which the Emperor of the French is resolutely op- 
 posed, unless it is a joint occupation, with the 
 authority of the Powers to the Treaty of Paris. 
 
 To Advertisers. — The small space which we 
 devote to advertisements, make it incumbent upon 
 us to select those most permanent and pay best, 
 and we can accept none at a rate less than our 
 conditions specify. Advertisers should bear in 
 mind that advertisements inserted in the Miscel- 
 lany will be read long after they themselves shall 
 have passed away. We have more orders for bound 
 copies now than we can supply. 
 
 New Tea Store. It wilt be seen by an advertite- 
 ment in another part of this paper that I. Samson has 
 opened a new tea store at number 40 Portland street, 
 corner of Sudbury. Mr. S. also keeps constantly on 
 hand a choice assortment of coffees, sugars, chocolate, 
 &c. We would recommend all lovers of good tea and 
 coffee, and our friends at the north p crt of the city in 
 particular, to give Mr. Samson a call, where they may 
 rely upon getting good barjjains and gentlemanly 
 treatment. 
 
 As another number closes our second volume, 
 and we mean to inaugeratc a new system, viz., a 
 cash business, it will be necessary for agents and 
 subscribers who owe us to forward the amount 
 of their indebtedness. Yearly subscribers will be 
 governed by this notice especially; white wrappei-s 
 will indicate our wishes. 
 
 It will bo seen by an advertisement in another 
 part of this paper that they take their annual account 
 of stock, at Oak Hall on the first of February next, and 
 offer great inducements of men and boys* clothing. We 
 would sayto all our friends, who wish to secure bar- 
 gains, visit Oak Hall. 
 
 SiGERBON & Co., of Milwaukie, are our agents for 
 Wisconsin. All orders from any part of that State, 
 directed to them, will be strictly attended to. 
 
 James McGinn, onr enterprising agent for Cal- 
 tbinia, is about taking a tour through and canvassing 
 the golden State. 
 
 Hknbt Gii.ks delivers a lecture on O'Conncll bo- 
 fore the Young Caiholic'.s Friends Society at the Tre- 
 mont Temple, Thursday evening, Jan. 27. 
 
 John Waiiben, our travelling agent, wUl visit 
 Quincy about the last of this month. 
 
 Those in want of books and periodicals would 
 do well by calling on our old and esteemed friend, 
 William Keating, 176 Harrison Avenue. 
 
394 
 
 IIUSH MISCELLANY. 
 
 1 
 
 Entered acoordliiK to Act o( Congrvtn, Id the year ISufl, by 
 Thomas O'Neill, In tlje Dl^^lrlci Court ol'MuffaohiKctls. 
 
 REMINISCENCES IN THE 
 
 LIFE IF h 
 
 — 1» THE-' 
 
 ENGLISH AND AJIEIUCAN SERVICES. 
 BY THOMAS O'NEILL. 
 
 DBDICATBD TO OENEBAI, JAMES 8HIKLD8. 
 
 KILLING UNDER SINGULAR CIRCUMSTANCES. 
 
 In our rcgimoat there was a Captain , whose 
 
 Dame, ns an accomplished gentleman, stood deservedly 
 high. Strict moral integrity and eobrioty wore lead- 
 ing traits in his character. Still he was not one of 
 those so pharisaically rigid but that he would, on an 
 occasion, bend to the wishes of his friends, and make 
 one at a social gathering. Nay, he seemed to consider 
 it a duty to make himself agreeable in any case that 
 did not involve to him a principle. He was ever ready 
 to do all within his power to make the life of the sol- 
 diers under his command happy and comfortable. One 
 singular habit, however, he rigidly adhered to, retiring 
 regularly at ten o'clock, no matter what company he 
 might be in ; and his messmates being aware of his 
 cnstom, seldom asked him to deviate t'rom it. 
 
 On one occasion tbat 1 remember, the officers had a 
 grand party, which was chiefly provided at the expense 
 of some one or more who had forfeited a wager. The 
 mess room was crowded with guests. Many officers 
 from other regiments in the garrison at Dublin were 
 present. Mirth and hilarity were supreme. The joke, 
 the jest, the song, the cup, went merrily round, and all 
 was happiness and gaiety. Ten o'clock, however, ar- 
 rived, and, as usual. Captain rose to withdraw, 
 
 and appealed to their knowledge of his regular habit 
 as an apology for so doing. As we stated before, his 
 manners were most agreeable, and he had a great 
 fiind of anecdotes, which made his company desirable ; 
 consequently, on this occasion, he was pressed to de- 
 part for once from his custom, and remain for at least 
 an hour longer. Among those who most earnestly 
 pressed him to remain was a young lieutenant for 
 whom he entertained a strong feeling of regard. 
 Among other arguments urged to detain him, they re- 
 minded him that it was ' Holly Eve,' a night which 
 was generally devoted to fun and frolic. 
 
 All the world knows, or ought to know by this time, 
 that the mode of observing this night in the rural dis- 
 tricts of England, Ireland and Scotland, is for the 
 young folks to assemble, and, by the burning of lead, 
 peeling of turnips, throwing the worsted ball into the 
 well, and many other foolish tricks, which must all be 
 done in the name of Satan, find out their foolish part- 
 ners. A farewell is given on this night to growing 
 fruits, apples particularly, which enter largely into the 
 entertainments of the evening. 
 
 Our friend, the captain, who never felt right if kept 
 out of bed after ten o'clock, pleaded indisposition as an 
 additional reason, and withdrew, saying that itwasjbet- 
 ter to go to bed than be resorting to the sLIly and wick- 
 ed practices of the night. 
 
 In about two hours after the captain had retired, his 
 servant, who occupied an udjoiniag room, was awak- 
 ened by a hideous shriek. Astonished and alarmed, 
 he hastened to his master's room, when he was ap- 
 palled by hearing a repetition of the same unearthly 
 shrieks. The servant sent to the mess room, and gave 
 the alarm. All his brother officers, accompanied by 
 the doctor, hastened to the bedside of the captain. He 
 lay without auy indications of breathing, apparently 
 quite dfad. The doctor was unable to form any 
 opinion upon the case, and there being no signs of re- 
 turning life, other medical aid was called in, who, 
 deeming the patient to be in a trance, ordered a close 
 watch to be set for the 6rst sign of returning life or anv 
 change in his condition. 
 
 A watch was accordingly kopt np, with a pbjsiciao 
 
 in constant attendance night and day, without any in- 
 termission until the evening of the 3J of November. 
 All this time, though the body continued moist and 
 warm, there was no appearance of life. On this even- 
 ing, the doctors believing that some change must ntjw 
 soon occur, summoned his immediate friends and mess- 
 mates, wlio were soon at his bedside. About the hour 
 of midnight thoy were affrighted at hearing a most 
 awful moan, as of one in deep sutfering and distress. 
 This was repeated a second and third time. At length 
 the patient opened his eyes and looked fearfully around 
 him, seemingly to ascertain his whereabouts. His lips 
 having been moistened, he faintly articulated — 
 ' Heaven, earth, or hell, where am I ! 
 ' On earth, brother,' answered the doctor, when a 
 faint cjacnlatiou of ' Thank God !' escaped his lips. 
 
 The doctor ordered the room to be cleared of all but 
 two attendants, who were to remain in constant watch, 
 and forbade all conversation with the patient. 
 
 The captain recovered very slowly, and when he at 
 length returned to duty, he looked like a man who had 
 suffered a long and severe illness. He seemed greatly 
 depressed in spirits, and avoided all allusion or refer- 
 ence to the night he became so singularly entranced. 
 
 About a year afterwards, however, the matter was 
 made the topic of conversation among a small circle 
 of his friends, and he being present was, after much 
 persuasion, induced to relate all he knew of the singu- 
 lar aff'air. Before doing so he enjoined them to 
 secrecy, except in case they should ever be called upon 
 to give evidence in a court of justice in relation to it, 
 that they should then, and only then, relate the whole 
 circumstances which he desired them to bear well in 
 mind. 
 
 He then went on to relate that, on quitting the mess 
 room on the night in question, shortly after retiring to 
 his room, an unusual and indescribible feeling crept 
 over him, which agitated his nerves, and, on getting 
 into bed, his spirits became terribly depressed, and this 
 uncomfortable feeling seemed to increase until he un- 
 consciously fell off to sleep. He then dreamed that he 
 was visited by the devil in 'propria persona,' who in- 
 troduced him into a brilliant party, who were assem- 
 bled in an elegantly furnished ball room. Among 
 others there was a very handsome, elegant looking 
 lady, to whom the devil particularly wished to intro- 
 duce him. 
 
 The captain declined the invitation, but could not 
 restrain the admiration he felt for her beauty and ele- 
 gance of deportment, so much so that her features re- 
 mained indelibly impressed upon his mind. After 
 this he thought that he beheld her arrayed as a bride 
 in gorgeous apparel, looking still more beautiful ; but 
 he was astonished on being made to understand that 
 he \vas to be made the bridegroom. This he declared 
 could not be, as he had no thought or desire of enter- 
 ing into the marriage state. 
 
 Upon his refusing he thought that his conductor as- 
 sumed his own shape and character, and became most 
 abusive and revolting. He then returned to conscious- 
 ness, and knew that he was in his own bed asleep, 
 when Satan came and demanded his spirit, and in a 
 most awfully painful manner he was taken out of him- 
 self, being fully conscious that he was leaving his body 
 behind him in the bed. He took flight into the air, 
 accompanied by his tormentor. He was hurried 
 through the clouds, passing over oceans and conti- 
 nents with the rapidity of lightning. So fleet was the 
 speed with which he travelled through the air that it 
 caused him great agony. At length, in a far off land, 
 he introduced him into a bed-room, and showed him 
 the same woman he had seen in the ball room, now in 
 the act of pledging herself to Satan for the fulfilment 
 of her heart's desire. He theu thought tbat some short 
 time had elapsed, and he was again in his own room, 
 and, on turning to go into bed, there lay the identical 
 woman, as his wife, to whom he thought he had been 
 married some years. He then passed through the 
 same painful process on returning through the air; 
 that, Anally, he came to where bis body lay, and re- 
 ceived permission to re-enter it. This was the most 
 painful opciaiioQ ef all he bad undergone. It wa« the 
 
 pain and agony he suffered on quitting and re-entering 
 his body, that caused the terrible shrieks and moans 
 that had so affiitxhted the listeners. 
 
 He concluded his strange narrative by saying that he 
 was not at all credulous, and had never given way to . 
 a belief in the marvellous, but that, in this case, he 
 could not help believing that his sufferings were caused" 
 by the machinations of some wicked, designing woman 
 cooperating with Satan. He impressed upon his 
 hearers an earnest desire that they should remember ._ 
 well all that he had told them, assuring them that, 
 should ever such a woman cross his path; he would ' 
 coolly and deliberately take her life. 
 
 The character of the captain was so well known to* 
 the gentlemen to whom he related his story, that none 
 of them entertained the least doubt but that he had 
 been made the victim of some sorcery or deviltry ' 
 performed by some wicked woman to carry out her 
 lustful desires. 
 
 The captain exchanged into another regiment. 
 Eleven years had rolled by since the night on which ' 
 he had confided the story to his friends, when the J 
 
 English papers annoumied that Colonel had I 
 
 arrived from to take his trial for the murder j 
 
 of his wife under very singular circumstances. 
 Some days prior to the committal of the murder he 
 had been suffering from a strange malady, which 
 singularly affected him both physically and men- 
 tally. It appears that during the night he dellber- , 
 ately arose from his bed, and, taking down his 
 sword, plunged it through the body of his sleeping 
 wife, to whom, heretofore, he had exhibited the 
 fondest attachment. 
 
 Upon being brought to trial, his counsel pleaded 
 the necessity of delay, in order to procure the evi- 
 dence of several officers now belonging to different 
 regiments scattered over the face of the globe. Affi- 
 davits having been filed to this effect, backed by 
 the prisoner's interest and high moral character,the 
 court readily granted a postponement of the trial. 
 
 Every facility in procuring the desired evidence 
 was afforded by the ' Horse Guards ;' but one half 
 of the parties sought for were dead. Enough, how- 
 ever, were forthcoming whose evidence was so cor- 
 roborative of the tale already told that he was ac- 
 quitted. He retired from the army, and secluded 
 himself in a small village near London, where he 
 lived but a few years, greatly depressed in spirits, 
 and died regretted by all who knew him. 
 
 Whatever might have been the opinion of the 
 jury, no person who was well acquainted with the 
 captain ever thought of doubling his sanity. He 
 was sober, regular in his habits, and strictly moral 
 in all his conduct. It was eleven years after the 
 first part of our story happened before the tragical 
 end was enacted, and on the anniversary of ' Holly 
 Eve ' too. 
 
 He was living in India when the second attack 
 came upon him, attended, as before, with terrific 
 shrieks and moans, remaining a length of time un- 
 conscious. He stated that in the second attack he 
 was taken from India to Europe, and all the first 
 night's scenes re-enacted, and, on returning to 
 India, was shown by the tormentor the woman lay- 
 ing along side him in the bed, when he deliberately 
 deprived her of life, as he had vowed to do, consid- 
 ering and believing that she was the primary cause 
 of all the suffering and agony he had endured. 
 
 Reader, you have a true narrative of facts. What 
 think you r Was it not killing under singular cir- 
 cumstances ? 
 
 Rothschild was guilty of the best ' bon mot ' on 
 the Lesseps subscription he ever uttered. 'I wait,' 
 said he to a friend, ' to see what the Swiss bankers 
 will do in this affair. If ever you see a Swiss 
 banker jump out of a window, never stop to pull 
 him back, but jump out after him, and you may be 
 sure there is fifty per cent, to be made by the 
 measure.' 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 395 
 
 [Written for the Misoelluny.] 
 PRESENT, PAST AND FUTURE. 
 
 BY WILLIAM n. DONOHO. 
 
 'Tis tlie Inst liour of the year, 
 And in sotemu commune here, 
 In the balance what may Justice strict accord? 
 Have I triunipiitt nobly gained? 
 Have I yet one round attained 
 « On the ladder of the angels to tlie Lord 7 
 
 The talent He liath lent, 
 
 Have I foolishly mispent? 
 Is it buried, or at usury, or flown? 
 
 Am I wiser, better now? 
 
 Am I reaping for ray brow 
 Tears or thorns— or what have I sown ? 
 
 Has the Past no ghost, Regret, 
 
 Unpropitiated yet? 
 No wrong, or siu, complacent I regard? 
 
 Is there Uilead for its harm? 
 
 Are there charities to warm? 
 And vipers from my bosom to discard? 
 
 The Future — here or hence — 
 
 "Will bring its recompense ; 
 Have mercy. Lord, as tremblingly we sue; 
 
 When the vain light is fought. 
 
 And Death's pale captive brought — 
 Fathek, forgive! we iinow not what we do I 
 Washington city, Dec. 3X. 
 
 [Correspondence of the miscellany.] 
 
 Nett Haven, Conn., Jan. 17. 
 
 Mr. Editor — On Sunday, 2d iast., a mission was 
 opened in St. Mary's church, in this city, by the fol- 
 lowing gentlemen : Rev. Messrs. Hecker, Hewit, 
 Baker and Deshon, missionaries of St. Paul the Apos- 
 tle, all of whom are converts to the Catholic church. 
 Members of other congregations were not allowed to 
 participate in the mission in this church ; yet at the 
 morning and evening services the church was filled to 
 its utmost extent, and the piety, zeal and eloquence of 
 these holy fathers brought many negligent Catholics to 
 the discharge of their duties, and many converts were 
 made to our holy religion. 
 
 My heart has been filled with gladness at beholding 
 the great good accomplished by these good fathers. 
 The success of their labors has astonished every 
 Catholic and Protestant in New Haven. Large num- 
 bers, especially of young people, who had, I mi{;ht 
 say, entirely neglected the sacraments for years — 
 many all their lives — received the sacraments of pen- 
 ance and holy communion with great forvor; many, 
 also, who had been alienated by mixed marriages and 
 other causes, had their hearts warmed to the church, 
 and acknowledged it to be theirs, under the inspiring 
 words of these ' men of God.' The spirit of the Lord 
 hath sent them to preach the gospel to the poor, and 
 heal the contrite of heart. All the sweet and captivat- 
 ing influences of Catholicity were used to attract the 
 people, to excite their devotion, to elevate and purify 
 their souls. Day after day, for fourteen days, have 
 we witnessed the indefatigable exertions of these pions 
 missionaries and the good pastor. Rev. E. J. O'Brien, 
 who joined in the holy work. 
 
 Never have the deep religious feelings of the Catho- 
 lics of New Haven been more extensively excited; 
 never has their love for the Immaculate Virgin, and 
 their chilklike simplicity and faith been more fully 
 displayed than during this mission. The following 
 were the order of exercises : — Mass at five o'clock, A. 
 M., followed by instruction on the commandments by 
 one of the fathers ; evening service at halt-past seven, 
 comprising instruction on one of the fifteen mysteries 
 connected with the life of ou r Blessed Lord ; the Holy 
 Rosary of the Blessed Virgin, followed by a sermon 
 and Benediction of the Blessed Sacrament ; instruc- 
 tion at ten o'clock, A. M., and at three o'clock for the 
 children belonging to St. Mary's church. The pro- 
 ceedings closed on Friday evening, the 14lh inst., by 
 the interesting and soul-stirring ceremony of the re- 
 newal of baptismal vows. Oh ! that is a scene which 
 those persons who had the good fortune to be present 
 will never forget. The sight of these holy men, with 
 our good pastor, tUeir hands raised aloft, ready witb 
 
 the congregation to renew, in presence ot the sacred 
 font of b.iptism, those vows made by our aponsers 
 many years ago. It was to me one of the most solemn 
 scenes I have ever witnessed. The Pontififial Bene- 
 diction was given by the Rev. Father Hesvlt. The 
 ManWicat was sung by the choir, the congregation 
 standing. Who is there that does not feel utl'ected on 
 hearing this beautiful canticle, words spoken 1900 
 years ago by an humble maid of Galilee, of the royal 
 house of David, in the mountains of Judea, and are 
 still used by our holy mother, the church, on all great 
 occasions, to show the love she has for Almighty God 
 and his blessed mother, to glorify God in his saints. 
 
 Then came the final farewell of the missionaries, 
 which left every ou e bathed in tears. I have never 
 witnessed such an affecting scene. 
 
 I cannot close this epistle — I am afraid already too 
 long— without saying something about the good pas- 
 tor of St. Mary's. That he has labored with indefati- 
 gable zeal no one can deny. He has left ho stone un- 
 turned, as it were, to secure to himself and his 
 congregation the blessings of Heaven. We can 
 never feel too grateful to him for the interest he takes 
 in our temporal and spiritual welfare. He means that 
 we must be, ' if anywhere,' on the right hand of God. 
 
 No doubt but you, Mr. Editor, and your readers, 
 will be glad to hear how Almighty God has vouchsafed 
 to bless this the first mission in New Haven. May 
 God in his mercy preserve their lives for many years 
 to come, is the prayer of your humble servant, 
 
 ^^^^^ J- S. 
 
 Lowell, Jan. 15, 1858. 
 Editor of the Irish Miscellany : — 
 
 Wednesday evening, Jan. 5, was a pleasant occasion 
 for some forty young men of this city. The associa- 
 tion known as the Mathew Institute had ceased to ex- 
 ist, and the members immediately formed a new so- 
 ciety, under the name of, the Davis Institute, in honor 
 of the poet-patriot of Ireland, Thomas Davis. The 
 old society was cramped on account of its temperance 
 clause, and the new one is intended to be more exten- 
 sive in its literary labors. But believing temperance 
 a virtue, tljey will in the main adhere to its principles. 
 The property of the old society reverts to the new one. 
 The officers elected are as follows : — President, T. A. 
 Crowley ; Vice-President, Thomas' Claffey ; Clerk, 
 K. F. Anderson ; Collector, Thomas Costello, Jr. ; 
 Treasurer, James Merren ; Librarian, James Duffy ; 
 Corresponding Secretary, J. E. Fitzgerald ; Trustees, 
 Frank McAnulty, Martin Bowers, James Barry, P. H. 
 Fallon, Francis Haviland. 
 
 After the election ot officers, the Institute and 
 friends proceeded to Richardson's saloon, where they 
 sat down to an excellent supper. When the ' good 
 things ' were disposed of, the President made a few 
 remarks, and was foHowed by others of the society. 
 There was also some good singing. The company 
 dispersed at twelve, with good hopes and bright pros- 
 pects for the Davis Institute. Geraldine. 
 
 [From the Morning Star.] 
 IRELAND AND AMERICA. 
 
 If anybody will take a map of the world, and will 
 draw a straight line between Galway on this side 
 of the Atlantic and St. John's in Newfoundland on 
 the other, or New York in the United States on the 
 other, he will understand what is meant by the 
 Lever line of communication between Great Britain 
 and America. Then, as this Lever line sets itself 
 up as better than the Liverpool line, the inquirer 
 need only do the same between Liverpool and St. 
 John's or New York, and his eye will be able to 
 detect that the one route is certaily shorter than the 
 other ; and, being shorter, as far as traveUing over 
 the sea is concerned, it must be the speediest and 
 the safest. In fact, one of the steamers that left St. 
 John's got to Galway within five days and si.tteen 
 and a half hours, and we are informed that better 
 steamers would do it even more quickly. Well, to 
 those who do not like sea sickness, if there were no 
 other consLd'^ratiou, it must be consolatory to know 
 
 that, in sailing between this country and America, 
 the sickness cannot last so many aa six days. 
 Even the conscientious upholder ot the fourth com- 
 mandment who refuses to travel on a Sunday must 
 regard it us a blessing if he can start from Galway 
 oil Monday morning, and be assured that he will 
 be on shore in Newfoundland by Saturday night. 
 But there are certainly other consideration of greater 
 importance than these, such as getting our news 
 quicker, having our letters earlier delivered, and 
 seeing our friends sooner, if they came by Galway 
 rather than Liverpool. The distance between Li- 
 verpool and New York is 2,731 miles; between 
 Galway and New York, 3,100 miles — difference, 
 369 miles. From Galway to Boston is 2,520 miles; 
 from Liverpool to Boston, 2,889 — difference also 
 369 miles. St. John's from Galway is 1,661 miles; 
 from Liverpool, 2,030 — difference, the same. Mr. 
 Lever, in addition, proposes a new route to Quebec, 
 by Belle Isle, which would be 2,392 miles, whereas 
 the Belle Isle route between Liverpool and Quebec 
 is 2,786 miles — the one being shorter than the other 
 by 394 miles. The only drawback would be, that 
 Galway is not so conveniently situated for other 
 ports of the country as Liverpool is, but for the 
 whole of Ireland itself there cannot be two opinions 
 that the Lever line is by far the best — not only the 
 best because the most convenient for every Irish 
 family that holds communication with America 
 but decidedly the best because it would give an 
 immense stimulus to the trade, the industry, and 
 the commerce of that impoverished part of the Uni- 
 ted Kingdom. Galway would become the rival of 
 Liverpool. The Irish people would have their 
 goods and passenger traffic greatly increased. And 
 the Irish people would have, undoubtedly, 
 much more to do ; for if the packet and postal 
 communication is fairly established between Gal- 
 way and North America, it cannot be doubted 
 that some of our own towns would take advantage of 
 it, as well as those continential countries that have 
 commercial relations with the United States. So much 
 ndeed, has ibis been foreseen, that for many years a 
 Galway line has been suggested, and Mr. Ennis, M. 
 P., told the meeting held in Dublin last week that he 
 and his colleagues of the Midland Great Western Rail- 
 way, looking at the mighty advantages which the port 
 of Galway opened to Ireland, determined, in 1851, to 
 try the experiment of opening a line. But that ex- 
 periment was unsuccessiul. However, Mr. John 
 Orrell Lever, an enterprising English merchant, turned 
 his attention to the subject at a later period, and com- 
 menced running a line of steamers from Galway to 
 New York. The more routes between this and Amer- 
 ica the better. We want the goods and passengers, 
 letters and parcels, conveyed between the old and new 
 worlds at the cheapest possible cost, at a cost which 
 can only be the consequence of a healthy and vigorous 
 competition between Galway and Liverpool, or be- 
 tween any other towns that lie on the western coasts of 
 the United Kingdom. 
 
 We forgot to state the price of the book entitled 
 ' The Bible against Protestantism and for Catholiriiy,' 
 noticed iu our last, is titty cents. Mr. Sweeney, the 
 publisher, will send two copies of the book, postage 
 paid, to any pan of th(S United States on receipt of one 
 dollar, which may bo directed thus — ' Thomas Swee- 
 ney, 539 Washington street, Boston, Mass.' Uur con- 
 temporary, the Pilot, thus notices the work : — 
 
 'This book of the ventruled Bi.>hoi) Shiels is too well 
 known to need any new couimendaiion at our hands. 
 It IS a remarkably able dumon^tration of the scriptu- 
 ral argumeuis lor the Catholic church, its f.iith and 
 practice. Tliose ol our readers who may be brought 
 muih in coniuct with Protestants will find in it a good 
 answer lo the objections and misre]iresentations with 
 which they are wont to be assailed. Its clear and 
 straightlorwarif style is by no means its only recom- 
 niciRlation. A valuable appendix is added lo tlie 
 original work, ' proving ihat ihe • reformed ' churches 
 are destitute of any lawful ministry.' The work ap- 
 pears to be edited with considerable learning and 
 
396 
 
 IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 FOREIGN INTELLIGENCE. 
 
 We have not rcieivcJ our regular Irish cxchances 
 this week, but in iheir absence lay before our roadera 
 the|following highly imporuint news : — 
 
 FItASCE. 
 
 The luuol lovec was held at the Tuillories on New 
 Year's day. The diplomatic corps and all the great 
 functionaries were in attendance, and during the pre- 
 sentation an event occurred which occasioned quite a 
 panic on the Paris Bourse, and a heavy fall in the 
 funds at London and elKcwherc. The Paris corres- 
 pondent of the London Times, writing on the evening 
 of tlie 1st inst., says : ' I have just heard that during 
 the levee today, the Emperor told the Austrian Min- 
 ister, Hubnor, that he regreiled their relations were so 
 bad, but that his personal sentiments for the Kmperor 
 of Austria were the same as ever. I may add that a 
 rumor circulates — but for the truth of which I do not 
 vouch — that Marshal Viiillaiit, Minister of War, went 
 up subsequently to Iluhncr, and said to him, • I sup- 
 pose I must not (;ive you my hand after that.' ' 
 
 The same correspondent, writing on the following 
 day, says ; ' The few words addressed by the Emperor 
 to M. Huhiier, the Austrian Jlinistcr, during the re- 
 ception of yesterday, and which I coitimuuicatcd in a 
 postscript, are, 1 lind, truly correct They were 
 jpoken with a more emphatic lone of voice and ani- 
 mated gesture than the Emperor generally employs, 
 and reminded some of the listeners of a scene between 
 the First Consul and the British Embassador of that 
 day, previous to the rupture of the treaty of Amiens. 
 They are commented upon in variom ways in all cir- 
 cles where polities are the topic, and X learn that in 
 the higher financial regions where they are known, 
 they have produced an effect which it is difficult to 
 •xaggerate. I will not indulge in speculation as to 
 what they portend. It is well known that the Em- 
 peror keeps the greatest guard over himself, and never 
 allows an unguarded expression to reveal his real 
 thoughts, but it is certain that on this occasion he be- 
 trayed an excitement which could not pass unnoticed 
 by a diplomatic corps. If the Bourse were open to- 
 day I have no doubt that the ctFect would be severely 
 felt. I think it right to add a few words of explana- 
 tion of so unusual an occurrence. For the last two or 
 three months negotiations have been going on between 
 Austria and France on the subject of Italy. The Em- 
 pero' expresses himself very anxious that reforms 
 should be introduced ihere, and particularly in the 
 Roman states. The Austrian government has been 
 urged to use its influence with the Pope and the King 
 of Naples for that purpose, and the Emperor Napoleon 
 has, I am assured, agreed to the withdrawal of the 
 French troops from Home on condition that the Ans- 
 trians should also evacuate the places they hold. On 
 both these points the greatest opposition is met from 
 Austria, though it ii a fact beyond dispute that the 
 Italians are more discontented than ever with their 
 rulers; more inflamed than ever with their hatred against 
 Austria, which no merits of her representatives or 
 generals will ever mitigate, and as ready as ever to 
 rise against those they look upon as their tyrants. 
 Whatever be the real motives of the Emperor Napo- 
 leon, whether he finds that the continued occupatien of 
 Home exposes him to odium on the part of the lialians, 
 or from whatever othtr views, he is fully aware of this 
 exasperated feeling, and of the consequences which 
 may follow, and which, perhaps, he would wish to 
 prevent. In the midst of all mis comes the Servian 
 complication, and the probabiliiies of an Austrian oc 
 cupaiion there also. This, it appears, ths Emperor 
 Napoleon most decidedly seta his (ace against. He 
 will listen to no occupation except a joint one of Servia, 
 and under the authority of the powers who signed the 
 treaty of Paris. We have every day new accounts of 
 the effervescence that prevails in Italy, and the sympa- 
 thy which Sardinia shows to the disconted, as well as 
 what is passing in Set via- All this ha/ produced its 
 effect on the Emperor's mind, and thus, notwitbsund- 
 ing his habitual reserve, he could not but show it yes- 
 erday when the representative of Austria stood before 
 him. This, I think, you will find pretty nearly the 
 
 frae state of the case. The feeling against Aasiria ia 
 very bitter, and I cannot say it is undeserved. Whether 
 it will go to the length which all seem to apprehend I 
 cannot say.' 
 
 The Fi-cnch government have allowed the Italians 
 to invcke its assistance. Austria does not recognize 
 France as an Italian power, and sees with dislike the 
 French occupation of Rome. Hence tho present bad 
 feeling between them. 
 
 Mr. Hubncr, it appears, was not the only member 
 of the diplomatic body who was snubbed at the Impe- 
 rial levee at the Tuileries. It is said the Papal Nuncio 
 left the levee disconcerted at the coldness of the recep- 
 tion ho met with from the Emperor, a fact which har- 
 monizes with the reports that His Imperial Majesty 
 has been baffled and opposed in his Italian policy by 
 Austria and the Pope, and that the latter has become 
 the obedient friend of Francis Joseph. " Napoleon is 
 evidently angry, and either cannot or does not choose 
 to conceal his mortification. 
 
 The Paris Patrie, alluding to the report on the 
 Bourse, to the effect that dissensions exist between 
 France and Austria, says : ' We are authorized to 
 state that no new circumstance justifies the rumor in 
 question.' 
 
 The Paris Constitutionel of the 4th contains tex- 
 tually the words the Emperor addressed to Mr. Hub- 
 ner on the 1st. The Emperor said: '1 regret that our re- 
 lations with your government are not so good as they 
 were, but I request you to tell the Emperor that my 
 personal feelings for him have not changed.' 
 
 It is stated that dispatches ^had been received from 
 Algeria, positively announcing that the tribes in the 
 mountains were still in full insurrection. Though no 
 fears were expressed for the safety of the colony, re- 
 enforcements were demanded in order to resume the 
 offensive. 
 
 Prince Napoleon had appointed a commission to re- 
 port on the expediency of esl;ablishing a service of 
 French steamboats between Suez, the island of re- 
 union, Chica, Cochin- China and Japan. 
 
 The Moniteur publishes a series of decrees, making 
 numerous pi emotions and nominations in the army 
 and magistracy. 
 
 The Paris flour market had been heavy and lower, 
 and the tendency at the close was downward. Wheat 
 was easy, but without material change in rates. Th» 
 market had a declining tendency. A large business 
 had been done in brandies at firm prices, but without 
 any advance in the Paris markets. There had been a 
 rise in the price of both wines and spirits at Mar- 
 seilles. 
 
 A further decline took place on the Paris Bourse on 
 the 4th, the Three Per Cents closing at 74 1 for money, 
 and 71.80 for account. 
 
 GREAT nKITAIJJ, 
 
 The annual return of the British nary, at the 1st 
 of January, shows that it consists of 523 vessels of 
 every description, exclusive of 167 gun boats. The 
 number of vessels in commision and doing duty in 
 all parts of the globe is 176. There are also eleven 
 line-of-battle screw steamtrs, of from 80 to 131 
 guns each in course of construction, together with 
 15 other screw steamers in various stages of pro- 
 gress. The navy is pronounced in a most efficient 
 state, both as regards the number of vessels and the 
 manner in which they are equipped. 
 
 The number of emigrants who left Liverpool 
 during 1858 was 70,466, a decrease of 71,450 as 
 compared w ith the year preceding. Of these emi- 
 grants nearly 41,000 were bound for the United 
 States. 
 
 The London Times, in an editorial upon the 
 recent correspondence which has been published in 
 regard to the affairs of Central America, the steamer 
 Washington, &c., thinks that the American gov- 
 ernment and its officers are pushing matters very 
 far indeed, and by no means responding to the 
 frank and friendly manner in which the practice of 
 visitation and search was entirely surrendered by 
 the British government, and says that * it really 
 
 seems to come to this— that no English naval officer 
 can go on board an American ship, however con- 
 ciliatory his conduct, however unassuming his 
 demeanor, however unwilling or unable he may be 
 to apply compulsion, without giving to the United 
 States a ' casus belli ' against this country.' 
 
 A staircase in the Polytechnic Institution, Lon- 
 don, gave way, when a large number of persons were 
 upon it. About fifty people were more or less in- 
 jured, one child was killed. Had the accident oc- 
 curred a minute or two earlier, the consequences 
 must have been far more serious. 
 
 In the city article of the Times, attention is 
 directed to American policy in regard to Mexico, 
 as also to the effects of France and Spain to obtain 
 redress for injuries sustained, while the British 
 government is censured for its total apathy in the 
 matter. 
 
 AH the members of the cabinet had been sum- 
 moned to London, for the purpose of attending a 
 council, at which the time for the meeting of par- 
 liament will be fixed, and various matters of moment 
 discussed. 
 
 The Morning Post announces the death of the 
 Earl of Aylesford. 
 
 The Herald says that two or three suspensions 
 for small amounts were announced yesterday, but 
 none of them were of sufficient magnitude to create 
 anxiety. Those in the shipping interest were ex- 
 tremely insignificant. 
 
 The Times in a leading article alludes to the 
 continential excitement respecting the Italian ques- 
 tion, which it says, has reached a crisis. Unless 
 efficacious means of prevention be adopted, a col- 
 lision will some day take place between Sardinia 
 and Austria. 
 
 The Court Journal says it has good reason to be- 
 lieve that the Emperor Alexander will visit Queen 
 Victoria during the month of May. 
 
 SPAIN. 
 
 The semi-official Correspondencia Autografa 
 states that the Spanish government has been in- 
 formed officially that complete satisfaction will be 
 granted to Spain for the exactions of which the 
 Spaniards had been the victims at Tampico, in 
 conformity with the demands of the authorities of 
 Cuba. 
 
 A Madrid dispatch of the 1st i^-St., to the Times 
 says : — • The Ministry declare that Spain will never 
 sell Cuba, and protest against the insulting hypo- 
 thesis to the contrary implied in the American Pre- 
 sident's Message. Olozoga has brought forward a 
 motion supporting the Ministerial declaration, which 
 is unanimously approved.' 
 
 The Spanish government is said to have ad- 
 dressed the Cabinets of England and France on the 
 subject of Mr. Buchanan's remarks in regard to 
 Cuba. 
 
 The Madrid Gazette announces especially that 
 full satisfaction has been given to Spain for exac- 
 tions at Tampico. 
 
 ITALY. 
 
 The state of public feeling in Austrain Italy con- 
 tinued very unsatisfactory, and the army in the 
 Lombardo- Venetian kingdom had been reinforced 
 by four regiments, and all the men who were on 
 leave ot absence had returned to their posts. 
 
 'I'elegraphic communication by the submarine 
 wire between Cagliari and Malta continued suspend- 
 ed. The cable was being under run. 
 
 The King of Naples had, in the most decided 
 manner, refused to grant the application of Russia 
 for a coaling station in his dominions. 
 
 The Globe's correspondent says that the news 
 from every part of Italy is pregnant with alarm. 
 
 ADSTBIA. 
 
 More Conspiracies. — Humors were current in 
 Vienna of the discovery of a formidable conspiracy 
 in Cracow. Numerous arrests had been made, and 
 some of the prisoners are said to be Russians. One 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 397 
 
 of the reports states that the fortress of Cracow was 
 to have been surrendered to the Kuasiana. There 
 is believed to have been considerable exaggeration 
 in the reports. 
 
 A Vienna telegraphic dispatch of the 3d says : — 
 • The report that Austria is likely to send troops to 
 the fortress of Belgrade has caused a panic liere ; 
 but you may be sure she will not do so, unless 
 ■with the consent of the other parties to the treaty 
 of Paris.' 
 
 SERVIA. 
 
 The latest news from Servia is that the Skoupts- 
 china was about to send a deputation to Constan- 
 tinople to request the Sultan to confirm the elec- 
 tion of Prince Mdosch. Russian influences and 
 Russian gold are said to have brought about the 
 deposition of Prince Alexander and the election of 
 Miloseh. 
 
 Order had been restored in Belgrade. 
 
 The guns of the Turkish fortress at Belgrade 
 were double shotted, and on the opposite bank of 
 the river Austrian artillery and 8,000 French 
 troops were in readiness to act if a chance offered. 
 
 According to official dispatches there are 100,000 
 armed men determined to oppose Turkish rule in 
 Servia. Somewhat urgent requests had reached 
 Constantinople for reinforcements. The Porte has 
 augmented the Ottoman forces in Canadla by 5000 
 men. The agitation amongst the Christian popu- 
 lation is increasing throughout the Turkish em- 
 pire. 
 
 According to a letter from Constantinople in the 
 French Journal of Frankfort, the situation of Omar 
 Pasha at Bagdad has become somewhat critical, a 
 general rising of Arabs having taken place, and he 
 being surrounded by them in his camp at a day's 
 march from the town. He had, it is added, been 
 obliged to send one of his officers to Constantinople 
 to demand reinforcements, 
 
 INDIA. 
 
 The Bombay mail of December 9 arrived at Suez on 
 the 21st, and the news is thus telegraphed : — 
 
 On the 24th November, a force commanded by Lord 
 Clyde in person, having marched 61 miles in 60 hours, 
 completely defeated Banie Madhoo, Sing, and a large 
 army of rebels at Dundeca Kara, nearly opposite 
 Tuttehpora. The enemy was driven out of the dense 
 jungle, and afterwards chased four miles by guns and 
 cavalry. Their loss was enormous. Many were 
 drowned in the Ganges. Banie Madhoo escaped down 
 the river Pomroa, and Sing fled toward the Cawupore 
 road. The rabble threw away their arms and fled to 
 the steep ravines. Bainie Madhoo is said to have 
 reached Doolumow Ghat on the Ganges. 
 
 On the 28th of November, the commaner-in-chief ar- 
 rived at Lucknow. The health of the British troops 
 was said to be excellent. 
 
 On the 2l3t of November, General Grant re-crossed 
 the Goomtee. The rebels in considerable numbers 
 disputed the passage, but were forced to fly with great 
 loss. Six of their guns were taken. 
 
 Tantia Toopee continued to avoid the ingenuity of 
 his pursuers, and is said to have entered Guzerat. 
 
 Gen. John Jacob, who played an important part 
 during the war, died from a severe attack of brain 
 fever. 
 
 THREE DAYS LATER FROM EUROPE. 
 
 New Yoek, .Tan. 22. — The steamship Europa, from 
 Liverpool Jan. 8lh, arrived at her dock at 2 o'clock 
 thii afternoon. 
 
 The Europa left Liverpool on the 8th at 11 1-2. 
 No steamer from this side arrived out since departure 
 from Liverpool of Niagara. Ship Resolute from New 
 York arrived at Liverpool on the 8th. 
 
 The disquietude caused by Napoleon's menace to 
 the Austrian Minister, continued. 
 
 The panic continued on ihe Paris Bourse, the de- 
 cline at one time being 2 1-2 per cent, since New 
 Yeai'i. 
 
 On the 7th, the Moniteur pnbhshed the following 
 paragraph : — 
 
 ' For several days public opinion has been agitated 
 by alarming reports, which it is the duty of government 
 to put a stop to, by declaring that nothing in diploma- 
 tic relatmns authorises the fears which those reports 
 tend to provoke.' 
 
 This caused a slight improvement in the funds in 
 Paris and London, but it was only temporary, and all 
 improvement was subsequently lost. 
 
 It is reported, that France has sent a very threaten- 
 ing note to Austria, warning her of the consequence of 
 Austrian troops crossing the Servian frontier. 
 
 Accounts from Italy continue very alarming. Aus- 
 tria is sending strong reinforements to Lombardy, where 
 her garrisons are on a war footing. An outbreak was 
 anticipated at Milan. It was rumored, but not con- 
 firmed, that the city was in a state of siege. Great 
 agitations Ukewise existed at Cremona, Modena and 
 elsewhere. 
 
 A suffle is reported to have taken place between 
 Austria and Hungarian soldiers at Cremona. 
 
 Further details of the debate in the Spanish Cham- 
 bers on Buchanan's Message, show that O'Donnell ex- 
 pressed great surprise at the proposition in regard to 
 Cuba, and declared the government disposed to de- 
 mand due satisfaction for such an insult. He declared, 
 empathically, that Spain would never c ede any of her 
 territory. 
 
 Austria has abandoned the project of concentrating 
 an imposing force on the Servian frontier. Great de- 
 pression prevailed in Vienna. 
 
 The object of the conspiracy at Cracow was to re- 
 cover the independence of the republic. 
 
 It is rumored, but not credited, that Russia had 
 succeeded in negotiating a loan of several millions 
 sterling with Rothschild's, London. 
 LATEST. 
 
 London, Saturday. — The Times intimates the 
 Emperor's speech to the Austrian Minister was made 
 with the view of learning how the great powers will 
 receive the project of French interference in Italy, and 
 says the result has happily been a decisive and great 
 failure, owing to the increasing suspicion with which 
 his policy is regarded. The attempt of the Moniteur 
 to soothe excitement has but partially succeeded. 
 
 English funds opened yesterday at a recovery of 1-2 
 per cent., but closed with a falling tendency. Paris 
 Bourse fell yesterday 3-8. 
 
 Austria. — The official correspondence of Vienna 
 announces that reinforcemenst will go from that 
 city to the army in the Lombarde Venetian King- 
 dom, It is expressly said that the troops are sent 
 for the protection of the peaceful inhabitants of the 
 kingdom against the revolutionary party. The 
 Vienna Gazette states that the project of concen- 
 trating an imposing force on the frontier of Servia, 
 and the execution of which had been commenced, 
 has been countermanded. Great depression pre- 
 vailed at Vienna. The object of the conspiracy 
 lately discovered at Cracow was to recover the in- 
 dependence of the republic. The Emperor Na- 
 poleon's observations to the Austrian minister were 
 known at Vienna on the 3d, and had created a sen- 
 sation on the Bourse. The Journal de Frankfort, 
 an Austrian 8emi-ofl[icial journal, says that Austria 
 is at present strong enough in Italy to meet any 
 eventualitj', and boasts that all Germany and Prus- 
 sia at its head is backing her. 
 
 Vienna, Fuiday 7th. — The third corpse d'armee 
 of the Imperial army, amounting to 30,000 men, has 
 left for Italy. It is estimated that the Aus- 
 trians can now muster 100,000 men within two or 
 three days in the limits of the Italian dominions. 
 
 Italy. — The continental journals and correspon- 
 dents continue to give alarming details of the state 
 of affairs in Italy. A rumor had been current in 
 Paris that Milan was in a state of siege, but it lack- 
 ed confirmation. The Paris Pairie publishes a let- 
 ter from Milan, dated the 1st inst., which, it ob- 
 servea, contains a statement so serious and strange 
 
 that it publishes it with reserve. It is to the effect 
 that some bodies of the people passing by the bar- 
 racks, crying ' Viva I'ltalia,' were responded to by 
 the soldiers in the barracks, with a similar cry. The 
 civil and military authorities at Milan were treated 
 with contumely, and the latter were of opinion that 
 there would be an outbreak. The garrison of Pavia 
 having been augmented by 700 men and 4 guns, it 
 was stated that the university would soon be re- 
 opened. It was expected that, on the return of the 
 students, collisions would very likely take place. 
 Every precaution was being taken, and Pavia was 
 almost in a state of siege. The Nord publishes a 
 telegram from Genoa, stating that the agitation was 
 increasing there, and that a report continued to be 
 circulated that Garibaldi was about to organize a 
 corps of volunteers, or was preparing to play some 
 very active part. The Austrian garrisons in Lom- 
 bardy were already on a war footing. Warlike pre- 
 parations brisk at Cremona. M; na was in a fear- 
 ful state of alarm. 
 
 Latest. — A Paris telegram, dated the evening of 
 the 7th, says it was asserted that a scuffle had taken 
 place between the Hungarian regiments forming the 
 garrison of Cremona, the Hungarians shouting 
 ' Vive Italia.' The Turin correspondent of the 
 London Times says it is quite evident that the Sar- 
 dinian government desires war, and is confident 
 that war is at hand. The Sardinian Chambers were 
 to open Jan. 10th, and the speech of the King was 
 anxiously looked for. 
 
 A REVOLUTION IN HAYTI. 
 
 Captain Higgins,of the schooner North Wind, which 
 airived at this port last week, reports that when he 
 left Gonaives, St. Domingo, Jan. 1st, a revolution 
 had been successfully consummated by the Republi- 
 cans under Gen. GefFrard, (oneof Soulouque's Gener- 
 al's) against the Haytien government. On the 22d of 
 Dec. last, Geffrard entered the city of Gonaives with 
 only four men, and the citizens joined him, and pro- 
 claimed him President of Hayti. Aux Cayes, Jacmel, 
 and all the Southern part of Hayti, have declared in 
 favor of GefFrard and the ne\v republic. 
 
 On the night of the 1st of January, the schooner, on 
 passing St. Marks, saw the place in flames in aboat 
 fifty places. In St. Marks the citizens were somewhat 
 divided, but in others there was no opposition to the 
 .Jcffards party. It is supposed that the republicans 
 had entered St. Marks and burned the place. It was 
 strongly forfeited and was the Gibraltar of the Island. 
 
 Business had been enlirely suspended in all the 
 ports in the Southern portion of the island. 
 
 The present leader of the republican forces, General 
 Fabre Geffrard, was formerly Governor of Jacomel, a 
 town of Hayti. Eluding the watchful jealousy of 
 Soulouque, he escaped in an open boat with three or 
 four followers from Port au Prince, the Sable Emper- 
 or's capital, and proceeded to Gonaives, where he was 
 received with open arms. The governor of the place 
 was forced by the inhabitants to abdicate, and a com- 
 mittee of citizens was at once formed, who issued de- 
 crees re-establishing the republic, and convening the 
 National Legislature, before whom General Soulouque 
 (the Emperor) is cited to appear. 
 
 The Traveller publishes the following extract 
 from a letter received in this city from Gonaives, 
 Dec. 31 ; 'Business is perfectly stopped on ac- 
 count of the revolution which took place on our 
 island on the 22d inst. On that day. Gen. F. Geff- 
 rard entered our town with only three or four fol- 
 lowers, and the town immediately surrendered to 
 him. From here he marched to St. Marcs, and 
 now he is busily preparing for his march on Port 
 au Prince. All the cities of the north have surren- 
 dered. We have no doubt that he will succeed, as 
 he has been proclaimed resident of Hayti all over 
 the northern portion c f the island, and the inhabi- 
 tants seemed quite pleased with him. All commu- 
 nication with Port au Prince, by sea or land, is 
 stopped.' 
 
398 
 
 IRISH MlSCELLAIDf. 
 
 ANNE J. WALTOX IRWIN. 
 The arrest of this young girl, resident in Fethard, 
 upon the felonious charge of concocting and writing 
 certain treasonable letters, caused no small share of 
 excitement not only in the neighborhood where she 
 lived, but also in this locality. The strangest ru- 
 mors were atloat as to the nature of the evidence 
 which was tendered in the sworn informations taken 
 at the lengthened private investigations before the 
 Hon. Martiii J. French, K. M., Messrs. J. Millet, 
 Thomas li. Barton, and Richard Pennefeather, and 
 suspicion was aroused that there might be some 
 party behind the scenes who endeavored to effect a 
 secret object through the medium of the youthful 
 prisoner. The magistrates took every pains in at- 
 tempting to unravel the mystery which surrounded 
 the case, and obscured the latent object of those 
 treasonable productions, and all the evidence which 
 they could glean as to the authorship of the letters, 
 and other circut&stances connected with the affair, 
 was submitted to the government. The justices 
 awaited further instructions. In the immediate 
 neighborhood where the girl was known, she was 
 always regarded as a person most unlikely, from 
 family associations, to pen the seditious language 
 which the letters contained, and her remand to the 
 jail of Clonrael for re-examination, on Monday last, 
 in Fethard, created much surprise. It appears that 
 she was the party who, after receiving the first of i 
 the treasonable letters,addresscd to herself, gave the 
 information which soon found its way to head 
 constable McMahon, and which was immediately 
 followed by the arrest of the girl on suspicion of 
 posting the second illegal letter, also addressed to 
 herself, and with being the writer of both. On 
 Monday the prisoner was sent from the county jail 
 to Fethard, under the charge of constable Prender- 
 gast and a sub-constable, and at the police barracks 
 the magistrates already mentioned attended with 
 sub-inspector Monahan, Mullinahone. The inves- 
 tigation being a private one, our reporter was not 
 admitted, nor was the solicitor for the prisoner, 
 Matthew Langley, Esq., until,after the 'apse of two 
 hours, it was announced that the justices had de- 
 cided upon allowing her to stand out upon her own 
 recognizances in £10 to appear when called upon. 
 "We believe that the magistrates adopted this course 
 in consequence of not receiving instructions from 
 the government to prosecute. A few antecedent 
 facts which we have gleamed may serve to throw 
 some light upon this extraordinary case. The 
 young woman Irwin, alias AValton, lived on the 
 Green at Fethard, with her aunt and her grand- 
 father, an old grey-headed man, a pensioner from 
 the constabulary, and who seemed distracted with 
 grief at the removal in custody, on so serious a 
 charge, of his favorite grandchild. She was brought 
 up a Protestant, as were also all the members of 
 her family, and was a constant attendant at the 
 Sunday school, where she was always greatly liked. 
 Of late the child had contracted the idea of tracing 
 the family history, and seemed bent upon following 
 up this geneaological research. This seemed to 
 render her somewhat peculiar in her habits, and 
 while laboring under this — what perhaps might be 
 termed monomania — she became attached to a ser- 
 geant — now serving with liis regiment in India — 
 whose release from military life she endeavored to 
 effect by some means or o'her. Some months since 
 she told a respectable party in Fethard that by the 
 possession of a million of cancelled postage stamps 
 she would attain the object she had in view, and 
 accordingly she commenced to collect them, in the 
 idle hope of thus effecting his return to Fethard. 
 At another time she waited upon a boy named 
 Larkin, assistant to the postmaster in that town, 
 Mr. Frederick Sayers, and requested him to address 
 gome envelopes to Her Majesty the Queen, which 
 he thought well to decline doing, and in a few days 
 afterwards he was surprised at receiving a letter.in 
 
 which he recognized the hand writing of the girl, 
 Walton Irwin, addressed on the outside to ' Sir 
 Jeremioh Larkin,' but at the foot to ' Sir Henry 
 Cole.' This letter was received by the clerk at the 
 post office about two months ago, and was written 
 in the following very incoherent and mysterious 
 manner, and in terms nearly as follows; — 'Why 
 don't you send me the warrant signed by Her 
 Majesty. If you should delay it I shall lose 'cess' 
 for it as well as Annandale, and oh, 'then, what shall 
 become of me ? U is enough to set me mad. 
 Others are enjoying my lawful rights. Will Lord 
 
 Ilcnry be in London on date ? Send me 
 
 Her Majesty's address without delay. I will exalt 
 the Crescent and the Cross. My executors will ar- 
 rive in London soon — Anse Jane Waltox Irwix. 
 To Sir Henry Cole.' Upon reading this letter, he 
 enclosed it back to the girl, who, it is stated, ac- 
 knowledged it had been sent to him through mis- 
 take, and that it was written by herself. Upon 
 being closely questioned by her solicitor, Mr. Lang- 
 ley, on Monday, St the police office, Irwin posi- 
 tively and repeatedly denied any knowledge of the 
 party who either wrote or posted the treasonable 
 docurients which had been sent forward to the gov- 
 ernment ; and as the informations have been kept 
 by the authorities strictly private, there is no means 
 of our accurately ascertaining how far the evidence 
 submitted at the investigation goes towards con- 
 necting the accused- with the serious offence with 
 which she has been charged. If the seditious pro- 
 ductions have eminatcd from her, as alleged, what 
 could have been her object, and why did she at 
 once, on receiving the first of them, proceed to pub- 
 licly disclose the fact of such a letter being address- 
 ed to her ? Again, if her statement be true, the 
 authorities have yet to discover from whom they 
 have proceeded. Of this there is no doubt, that 
 her conduct since her arrest has been such as to 
 lead to the belief that she was unmindful of the 
 position in which she stood charged with so serious 
 a felony. Altogether, this case is indeed a very 
 strange one. — [Clonmel Chronicle. 
 
 An old soldier vouches for the truth of the fol- 
 lowing : — 
 
 At Cambridge, Gen. W'ashington had heard that 
 the colored soldiers were not to be depended upon 
 for sentries. So one night, when the password was 
 ' Cambridge,' he went outside the camp, put on an 
 overcoat, and then approached a colored senti- 
 nel. 
 
 ' Who goes there :' cried the sentinel. 
 
 ' A friend,' replied Washington. 
 
 ' Friend, advance unarmed and give the counter- 
 sign,' said the colored man. 
 
 ' Washington came up and said, ' Roxbury.' 
 
 ' Xo, sar," was the response. 
 
 ' Medford,' said Washington. 
 
 ' Xo, sar,' returned the colored soldier. 
 
 ' Charlestown,' said Washington. 
 
 The colored man immediately exclaimed, • I tell 
 you, Massa Washington, no man go by here 'out he 
 say Cambridge.' 
 
 Washington said 'Cambridge,' and went by; 
 and the next day the colored gentleman was reliev- 
 ed of all further necessity for attending to that par- 
 ticular branch of military duty. 
 
 Cm tub Fibst op Februarv next we shall take 
 our annual account of stock. We have now on hand 
 a large assortment of men's and boys' clothing, fur- 
 nishing goods, &c., &c., in variety of fabric and stylo 
 to suit the taste and means of all. Wc wish to re- 
 duce our stock, and shall accordingly, daring the 
 present month, offer such inducements as will insure 
 a favorable response from our patrons, who will find 
 this a rare opportunity to secure bargains. 
 
 OAK HALL, 
 
 »i and 34 North street. 
 
 VARIOUS ITEMS. 
 
 Hans rif the Ascendant. — A few evenings ago a 
 party of ' Young Americans ' were standing in front 
 of an ancient-looking sadler'sshop, koptjhy one Hans, 
 n Dutchman. Mischief reigned supreme among tlieir 
 number, and, thinking to have some sport with our 
 German friend, one of them opened the door, and thus 
 addressed him : — 
 
 ' I any, Germany, hev yergot any saddles for dogs?' 
 
 Now, Young America, no doubt, expected Hans to 
 land a stick of wood in the immediate vicinity of the 
 door, but no ! Looking up from his work quite com- 
 posedly, he rcpHed : — 
 
 ' Yaw, come in, unt try von on I' 
 
 Young America sloped. 
 
 ' Who made you V inquired a lady teacher of a lub- 
 berly boy who had lately joined the class. 
 
 ' I don't know,' said he. 
 
 ' Don't know ? You ought to be ashamed of your- 
 self, a boy of fourteen years old. There is little 
 Dickey Filton, he is only three, he can tell, I dare say; 
 come here, Dickney — who made youV 
 
 'God,' lisped the infant prodigy. 
 
 ' There,' said the teacher, triumphantly, ' I knew 
 he would remember.' 
 
 Well, he oughter,' said the stapid boy, "taint but 
 a little while ago since he was made.' 
 
 Why arc postage stamps like lazy school boys ■? 
 Because you have to lick their backs to make them 
 stick to their letters. 
 
 How we printers lie !' as our devil- said the othei; 
 morning when he got up too late for his breakast- 
 
 ' Business before pleasure,' as the man said when 
 
 kissed his wife before going out to kiss his neigh- 
 bor's. 
 
 'Scatter the gems of the beautiful,' as the poet said 
 when he kicked his wife and children out of doors. 
 
 A wag says he doesn't care a 'fig' whether they get 
 any 'currents ' through the Atlantic cable or not, bnt 
 he would like a few fresh 'dates.' 
 
 ' Hebe,' said a dandy to an Irish laborer, ' come 
 and tell me the biggest lie you ever told in your life, 
 and I'll treat you to a whiskey punch.' ' An' by ma 
 sowl,' replied the Hibernian, quickly, ' yer honor is a 
 gentleman-' 
 
 With four metalic qualifications, a man may be pret- 
 ty sure of worldly success — they are, gold in his pocket, 
 silver in his tongue, brass in his face, and iron in his 
 heart. 
 
 A man the other day declared he had eaten so much 
 veal in his time that ho was ashamed to look a calf 
 in the face ! We suppose he never made use of a look- 
 ing-glass ! 
 
 A Westeren paper contains the following advertise- 
 ment : — 
 
 'Wants a situation, a practical printer, who is com- 
 petent to take charge of any department in a printing 
 and publishing house. Would accepta professorship in 
 any of the academies. He has no objection to teach 
 ornamental painting and penmanship, geometry, trig- 
 onometry and many other sciences. Is particularly 
 suited to a small evangelical chnrch, or as a local 
 preacher. He would have no objection to form a small 
 but select class of interesting young ladies, to instruct 
 in the higher branches. To a dentist or chiropodist 
 he would be invaluable, as he can do almost anything. 
 Would board with a family, if decidedly pious. For 
 further particulars inquire of Colonel Buffalo, at 
 Brown's Saloon.' 
 
 What can be more captivating than to see a 
 beautiful woman, say about four feet eleven inches 
 high, and eleven feet four inches in circumference, 
 passing along the isle just as divine worship com- 
 mences ? 
 
 A DvTCHMAN being advised to rub his limbs well 
 with brandy for the rheumatism, said he had heard 
 of the remedy, but added ' I dush petter as dat ; I 
 drinks de prandy, and den I rubs my leg mid de 
 pottle.' 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 m9 
 
 ADVERTISEMENTS 
 
 FINE BEADY MADE CLOTHING 
 
 SPEING OVERCOATS, 
 
 BUSINESS COATS, 
 
 FROCIC AND DRESS COATS, 
 
 PANTS AND VESTS, 
 Good, Stylish, Well Made Garmkmts, 
 Such as men of taste and good judgment will wear, can at 
 all times be found at our store. 
 Our aim is to produce for our customers the best Ready 
 Made Garmeuts at the lowest fossiblb prices for 
 CASH. 
 
 Readers of this Journal are earnestly solicited to exam- 
 ine our goods before purchasing. 
 
 J W. SMITH & CO., 
 
 Dock Sqdake, corner Elm Street. 
 myll tf 
 
 FRANCIS GODFREY, 
 
 IMPORTER AND RESTORER OF 
 
 ITALIAN PAINTINGS, 
 
 AND MANUFACTURER OF GILT FRAMES, 
 
 12 Franklin Street, Boston. 
 
 O* Engravings, Lithographs, Crayons, &c., on sale. 
 
 P . MORRIS, 
 
 APOTHECARY, 
 
 Comer of Federal and Purchase streets, foot of Summer 
 
 street, BoSTor;. 
 
 STRICT personal attciicion paid to compounding Physi 
 cian's Prescriptions. A choice selectiou of Family 
 Mediciues constantly on hand. A well selected stock of 
 genuine imported Perfumery and Fancy Goods. Soda 
 Water with choice Syrups. A large assortment of genuine 
 Havana Segars constantly on hand. ap5 
 
 GENERAL TICKET OFFICE 
 
 — for the — 
 
 SOVTBERNAND WESTERN STATES 
 
 AND 
 
 THE CANADAS, 
 No. 2 Aleant Street, Boston. 
 
 EDWARD RYAN, Agent. 
 
 N. B. — Passage to and from Liverpool, and Bills of Ex- 
 change on England, Ireland and Scotland. 
 ap24 ly 
 
 CATHOLIC BOOK STORE. 
 
 WILLIAM HICKEY, Catholic Bookseller, and Agent 
 for the E.\tensive Publishing House of D. & J. 
 Sadliek & Co., of New York. 
 The latest and most varied stock of Religious Prints, 
 MISSALS, PRAYER BOOKS, CROSSES, 
 and all the Current Literature, constantly on hand. 
 
 No. 128 Federal (corner of Williams) street, 
 BOSTON, MASS. 
 
 ADVERTISEMENTS. 
 
 W. J. HENNESST, 
 ARTIST, 
 
 No. 87 FRANKLIN STREET, 
 NEW YORK CITY. 
 
 LAWTJENCE BRIGADE BAND. J. Desmond, Lead- 
 er. Are prepared to lurnish Music for Military and 
 Civic Parades, Pic-Nios, Festivals, gcc. Also, a Quadrille 
 Band furnished, if desired. Address J. Desmond, care of 
 Rev. J. O'Donuell. Lawrence. Mass. 
 
 A WILLIAMS & CO., Wholesale Agents, for the Irish 
 . Miscellany. The Tiade supplied with Books, Pe- 
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 f<!h20 Boston. 
 
 TEN READY WAYS TO MAKE MONEY, being ten 
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 Formerly sold for So; but now Bent to auy person lor one 
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 al8 6t 
 
 TRE^VNOK & GUINEY, ATTORNEYS AND COUNSEL- 
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 Boston. 
 
 IE7"Particular attention paid to Conveyanolng, and the 
 zaminatlon of titles of Real Estate. febl 
 
 THE NEW YORK 
 
 THE LEADING (.■ATHOLIC rAPEK IN TUE UNITED STATES, 
 
 THE FREEMAN'S JOURNAL is devoted to maintain- 
 ing the harmonies that e.\ist between Catholicity and 
 American Institutions, and promoting the interests of each. 
 It aims especially at advocating and enibrciug, in all pub- 
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 of the country dictate. It strengthens itself for the defence 
 of Catholic rights, invariably defending all other rights re- 
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 the intelligent and patriotic, at the same time, among 
 Catholics and non-Catholics. It shows how religion and 
 patriotism go hand in hand. 
 
 Every intelligent Catholic citizen should be acquainted 
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 MAN'S Journal. Every zealous Catholic should add t lie 
 Freeman to the number of papers he takes, and have it at 
 his hand, as the ready answer to those that would represent 
 Catholics, or their relifjion, as at variance with our tree 
 American Democratic institutions. 
 
 The Freeman's Journal abstains, on principle, from 
 sut controversies on points ot abstract theology or ecclesi- 
 astical discipline, and invariably from all disedifyir^ per- 
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 edifying or important, or of honest interest, it hastens to 
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 subscription price. 
 
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 To Clubs, 5 copies 10 00 
 
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 JAMES A. MoMASTER, 
 
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 Joseph Kiernan, Publisher, 
 jan29— tf Office, 151 Fulton street, New York. 
 
 THE IRISH VINDICATOR. 
 
 A WEEKLY NEWSPAPER, 
 The Best and Cheapest Published in America. 
 
 THIS splendid Paper, which is now nearly two years 
 iu existence, has met with the 
 
 M^ WONDERFUL SUCCESS, 
 
 and has been pronoaaoed by the Press and the Public to be 
 
 superior to any other Irish Weekly in the United States. 
 
 It contains each week, the very 
 
 Latest News prom every County in Ireland • 
 
 Original and entertaining 
 
 STORIES AND ANECDOTES, 
 and a variety of Miscellaneous Reading matter, of a charac- 
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 ONLY THREE CENTS A COPY. 
 
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 New York, by the Proprietor, 
 
 ,VT -I- , V „EDWARD DOWNES CONNEEY. 
 
 New 1 ork, march 27 
 
 DO'ROURKE, respectfully informs his friends and the 
 • public, that he keeps constantly on hand COFFINS 
 of all sizes and kinds, at his Cothn Slanufactory, No. 347 
 Federal, between Beach and' Kneehind Streets, Boston, 
 which he will sell as reasonable as can be bought at any oth- 
 er place iu the city. 
 
 N. B.— Orders punctually attended to, day or night 
 
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 febl3 
 
 ADVERTISEMENTS 
 
 SOUTH END CATHOLIC BOOK STORE, 
 
 And Depot for the Sale of the 
 
 METROPOLITAN AND YOUTHS' MAGAZINES. 
 
 WILLIAM KEATING, Agent, 
 
 8 1-2 Harrison Avenue, or at his Now Periodical Store, 176 
 
 Harrison Avenue, Boston, Mass., 
 
 Where a great variety of the most popular Books and 
 
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 the terms— 3 copies will be sent by mail, to one address, tor 
 one year Su; U copies for 810; 13 copies forS20; 20 copies 
 forSSO. 
 
 DC?- On the receipt of S3, three copies of the Catholio 
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 be mailed regularly for one year. 
 
 DTT^ A few .sets of the Magazines from the beginning, can 
 be had of tiie Agent. Also, ail new books furnisbed as 
 soon as published. ap24 3moa 
 
 CLUBS! CLUBS!! CLUBS!!! 
 
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 the land of their birth, do us the favor of getting up Clubs. 
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 To a club of si» persons sent to one address, S10,00 
 
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 The whole of the money must invariably be sent at one 
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 Let all our friends exert themselves, and by their 
 patronage make the Miscellany the foremost Irish joorna 
 on this coutinent. 
 
 TRAVELLING AGENTS WANTED. 
 
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 canvass for subscribers for this paper We do this at the 
 earnest request of many warm friends, who think we do 
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 Persons desirous of becoming Travelling Agents, who 
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 at our Publication Office, 16 Franklin street, Boston. 
 
 OUR AGENTS. 
 
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 sex Houie, Salem, Mass. 
 
 Back Numbers ot the Miscellany, from the commence 
 ment of the paper, may be procured through any of our 
 regular ogents, or by sending direct to the office of publl- 
 oaUon, No. lOFrauklin street, Boston. Will our friends In 
 want bear this fhot In mind ? 
 
400 
 
 IRISH MlSGBIMinr. 
 
 ADVERT ISEMENTS. 
 
 TASSAGE REDUCED BET\\Ti:EX 
 
 LIVERPOOL AND BOSTON. 
 
 MERCHANTS' LINE 
 
 ^ 
 
 ADVERTISEMENTS. 
 
 — OP — 
 
 BOSTON AND LIVEUPOOL PACKETS; 
 
 KAILIKO rUOV J-lVEBPOdL DIRECT TO BOSTON BVKBT 
 KIPTEKN DAYS. 
 
 THE SPLENDID PACKETS comprising tlUs line ara as 
 follows:— 
 
 Tons. Captains. 
 
 ISOO Ullss 
 
 3.100 MttxH-ell 
 
 lUOO lliggius 
 
 1600 McTcher 
 
 1500 Hill 
 
 1800 Smith 
 
 aXK) Hartley 
 
 1500 DniBmore 
 
 1750 Sliiison 
 
 liJiO I'crry 
 
 17110 Delaud 
 
 1500 Kich 
 
 Sliiixi. 
 CoMaoiioiiE- - - 
 Caulyle . . - - 
 
 SUAWMIT . - - 
 MuMlOLlA - - • 
 TllOS- J KPFKIteoS 
 WaLTKU SCOTT - 
 I^INCESS UOYAL - 
 RiCUAIlU MOK8E - 
 TllALATTA - - - 
 
 Camuria - - - 
 
 1*0CAIH)>T1S - - 
 KUIL'S CHOATE - 
 
 Tliese ships are all of the flrst class, mostly new, and built 
 «xpre»sly tor the Liverpool trade; .Hpjicious between decks, 
 well ventilated, with all the modern improvements lor the 
 comfort, health and safety of passengers. They are com- 
 manded by American Captains of known e.xperience and 
 kindness, who will carelmly look to all the wants of the 
 pas.''enKers during (lie voyage. 
 
 Each ship will be furnished with proper Medical atten- 
 dance. 
 
 I'croiis wnding tor their friends in the Old Country can 
 DKPEND on having them ordered up promptly lor the 
 FIRST euiPS, and at such times as will prevent their being 
 detained in Liverpool, as is otleu practiced by the other 
 lines. 
 
 RATES OF PASSAGE 
 A-om Liverpool to Boston (including provisions): — 
 For persons 12 vears of age, and over, - . - S18 DO 
 
 lor children under 12 years, 14 00 
 
 For infants under 1 year, at time of embarkation, 3 00 
 
 REMITTANCES. 
 Bills of Exchange on England, Ireland, Scotland, Wales 
 and Cjermany, for sale in sums to suit. 
 
 Passengers Idrwarded weekly to all parts ol Europe by 
 Steam and Sailing ves.«els. 
 
 PAGE, RICH.'^.RDSON & CO., 
 
 114 State street, Boston. 
 
 CT" For PASSAGE CERTIFICATES from and to Liver- 
 pool, and Bills of Exchange, or for any information as 
 above, apply personally or by letter to 
 
 LAWRENCE & RYAN, Agents, 
 
 B271y No. 41 Broad street, Boston. 
 
 OLD COLONY HOUSE. 
 
 Tr>ATKICK HDLI.V begs leave to announce to his pat- 
 JL rons nnd the public generully that he has constantly 
 on hand at Ins old and well-known htand, 
 
 THE OLD COLONY HOUSE, 
 
 CORNER OF KNEELAiWD A?fD SOUTH STREETS, 
 
 A CHOICE ASSORTMENT OF 
 
 BRANDIES. MINES. SCOTCH & IRISH 
 
 "WHISKEY, CIGARS, &c. &c., 
 
 11 ol the very flrst quality, which can be obtained too at 
 
 LOWEH KATES 
 than elsewhere in the market; in proof of which he Invites 
 purchasers to give him a call. aug 28 
 
 NORTHEKN HOUSE, 
 
 NORTH SQITARK — BOSTON. 
 
 JOHN GLANCY Proprjetok. 
 
 This House has rooms equal to any flrst class Hotel, and 
 permanent or transient Boarders can be accommodated 
 nearly one half cheaper than at any other House in the 
 City. 
 
 In the Reading Room can be found all the morning and 
 evening papers, and periodicals of the day, together with 
 an extensive Library, for the free and exclusi\e use of 
 the Boarders. 
 
 N. B. Strangers visiting Boston, can always find this 
 House a Home. 
 
 TO OLD COUNTRYMEN.^ 
 ANOTHER REDUCTION IN PRICES! 
 
 RATES of passage bet^veen Liverpool and Bos- 
 ton:— 
 Adults, 12 years and over .... gig 
 
 Children under 12 years 14 
 
 Inputs under 12 months ..... 3 
 
 THAYER & WARREN, 
 
 aoentb por the only regular link of 
 
 BOSTON AND LIVERPOOL PACKETS, 
 
 Continue to sell Certificates ol Passage to those sending for 
 their triends in Ureal Britain at reduced prices. 
 
 Sight Hills ol Exchange for £1 and upwards, bought and 
 iold? Apply to 
 
 THAYER & WARREN, 
 99 State St., or 413 Com.vercial St. 
 
 No connection with any other line. 
 
 All letters must enclose a stamp for reply. 
 
 N. u.— Packets sail from Boston to Liverpool every 
 month. ly Jan29 
 
 B 
 
 OLD HICKORY HOUSE, 
 
 36 MAIN STREET, CHAKLESTOWN. 
 MC NULTY & RYAN 
 
 EG leave to inform the public that they have opened 
 
 the above house, and keep constantly on hand the 
 
 very best assortment of all kinds of WINES and LKiUOKS, 
 
 including the celebrated WISES OLD CORK WHISKEY. 
 
 In connection with the above house, they also keep on 
 
 hand a large supply of the very best 
 
 GKOCERIES, PROVISIONS AND VEGETABLES, 
 
 which they warrant to sell as cheap as can be bought in 
 Charlestown, Boston or elsewhere. ly— jan22 
 
 
 THE BEST PIANOS 
 
 ARE MAMUFACTURED BT 
 
 GHIGKERING & SONS, 
 
 who have RECEIVED 
 
 38 MEDALS, 
 THE FIRST PREMIUMS, 
 
 over all competitors in the united states. 
 272 Washington street, Boston. j29 
 
 SITEAM TO ALL PARTS OF GREAT BRITAIN 
 
 — VIA THE — 
 
 ATLANTIC ROTAL MAIL STEAMSHIP CO'S 
 
 NEW YORK AND GALWAY LINE. 
 
 THIS is the shortest route between Europe and Amer- 
 ica. The line is composed of powerful and fast sail- 
 ing steamships, ably othcered, and furnished with every- 
 thing re»iulsitc to render the voyage safe and agreeable. 
 The departures from New York for Galway will be as fol- 
 lows, until further notice, Ti2 — 
 
 CIRCASSIAN - - - - Thursday, January 27. 
 Persons visiting Ireland reach their destination in three- 
 fourths the time taken by any other route, and all have an 
 opportunity ot visiting places and scenery of unrivalled in- 
 terest in Ireland. 
 
 Price of pa.ssage, including free tickets by the usual rail- 
 road routes from Galwavtoany o( the principal cities ot 
 Great Britain, at the following reduced rates:— First class 
 890. second class SoO, third class S30. 
 
 Those wishing to bring their friends to this country can 
 purchase tickets for their passage in third class from Gal- 
 way at S30, or from other cities in Great Britain, accessible 
 by railr.'ad, $35. A liberal cabin table will be provided, 
 aiid cooked provisions for third class passengers to and 
 from Galway. 
 
 For freight and pa.'jsage and further particulars apply to 
 the American Express Company, 61 Hudson street. New 
 York, or to 
 
 NAZBO BROTHERS & SWEENEY, 
 ol8 tf 6 Chatham Bow, BeiUu. 
 
 I. SAMSON, 
 
 •WHOLESALE AND RETAIL DEALER IN 
 
 CHOICE TEAS, COFFEES, COCOA, CHOCOLATE, 
 
 — AND — 
 
 SUGARS OF ALL KINDS. 
 
 No. 40 Portland Street (Corner of Sudbury), Bostoh. 
 
 Goods sent to all parts of the city free of charge. 
 
 ADVERTISEMENTS 
 
 IMPORTANT TO HOUSEKEEPERS! 
 
 J . F R D ■ • • • ^56 & 158 Federal Street, 
 
 RESPECTFULLY informs his friends and the public 
 that he continues to offer for sale a large and select 
 assortment of 
 
 GROCERIES, 
 
 ConsisUng of TEAS, SUGARS, COFFEES, SPICES, fco. 
 
 — ALSO — 
 
 CHOICEST WINES, LIQUORS AND CIGARS 
 
 Wholesale and Retail. 
 THE BEST FAMILY FLOUR CONSTANTLY ON HAND. 
 The subscriber's long experience enables him to sell to the 
 purchaser's advantage, and it is his undeviating aim to pro- 
 duce a better article than can be found elsewhere for the 
 same price. He is, therefore, confident that those favoring 
 him with their patronage will receive every satisfaction, and 
 And his goods are sold extremely low for cash. lydll 
 
 TURKEY SALVE 
 
 HEALS ULCERATED SORES, FELONS, 
 Burns, Whitlow, Palm Abscess, skin or water Scrofu- 
 la, Ulcerated Sore Legs, Bruises, Chapped Hands, Ulcers in 
 Neck, Scald Head in Children, Frosted Feet, Sore Nose, 
 BoiJs, Bleeding Piles, Ulcerated Sore Breast, Sore Nipples, 
 Inflamed Breasts mode to supperate in twelve hours, with- 
 out a resort to the ' knife.' There is no Salve before the 
 public so powerful as this, being entirely made IVom the 
 strongest herbs, roots and barks. It can be reduced so as 
 to be applied to a child one week old, or be made strong 
 enough to dress an ulcer every half hour, even after morti- 
 fication sets in, so that this salve will do more good in one 
 day than all others in one week. 
 
 N. B.— I give my entire attention to healing Ulcerated 
 Sores, and warrant a perfect cure, failing in which 1 make no 
 charge. Sly motto is, ' No cure no pay.' Charges moder- 
 
 FRANCIS F. SPRING. 
 
 d41m 18 High street, Boston. 
 
 L. LORENZ'S 
 
 EUROPEAN EXPRESS 
 
 FORWARDS PACKAGES TO EUROPE 
 
 TWICE A WEEK BY STEAMER, 
 
 And guarantees prompt delivery to any place in ENG- 
 LAND, IRELAND and SCOTLAND free of charges. 
 
 iiages"l.4 cubic foot 
 1-2 do do - 
 1 do do 
 
 SI 00 
 
 2 00 
 
 3 00 
 6 00 
 
 Packages done up gratis at EDWARD RYAN 
 ticket oflice. No. 2 Albany street, Boston, Maes, 
 janl— ly JULIUS SPAETH, Agent. 
 
 ORDWAY HALL-WASHINGTON STREET. 
 
 TENTH SEASON OF ORDWAV'S ^OUIANS. 
 
 MANAGER, J. P. OEDWAY; Stage Manager, E. KEL- 
 LY; Business Manager, James McGEE. The perfor- 
 mances given nightly at this establishment consist in part of 
 ETHIOPIAN MELODY, liUKLESQUE and COMlyUE. 
 
 The hall has been beautifully painted and refitted. No 
 pains or expense has been spared to make the jEolians 
 equal to any company in the world. 
 
 Tickets 25 cents— Children under ten, 15 cents. 
 
 Doors open 1-4 before 7. Performances commence at 
 7 1-4 o'clock, See small bills. tf— janl6 
 
 JAMES COLLINS, 
 
 IMPPOHTEU AND WHOLESALE DEALER IN 
 
 TEAS, WINES, LIQUORS, TOBACCO, IRISH HIGH TOAST 
 SNUFF, SEGARS, &G., &C. 
 
 AGENT FOR JOHN MCKNIGHT'S 
 
 ALBANY PALE AND AMBER ALE, XX AND PORTER. 
 
 84 South St. (near Beach), Boston. 
 Goods delivered in any part of the city. jan29 
 
 BOYS' CLOTHING, 
 
 OF EVERY DESCRIPTION, 
 CHEAP 
 
 —AT— 
 
 OAK HALL, 
 
 82 AND 34 NOaXB stbsb, boctoic. 
 
 GONSTABJJ NOTICE. 
 
 THE undersigned, having been duly appointed a Consta- 
 ble for the City of Boston, is prepared to attend to all 
 business intrusted to his charge in a prompt and faithtui 
 manner Houses rented and leased, and rents collected In 
 all parts of the city. Oflice No. 13 Court square; residence 
 No. 1 Tyler place. \ 
 
 . KELLY', Constable. 
 
 THE IRISH MISCELLANY 
 
 Is published weekly, and devoted to the interests and vin- 
 dication of the Irish people throughout the world. 
 
 The MisccUany republishes each week one whole number 
 of the old ' DUKHN Penkt Jooenal,' with original and 
 selected essays, reviews, poetrj-, &c., by Irishmen, of Hrst- 
 rate ability. It also contains bcautifnl Pictorial Illustra- 
 tions of Irish scenery and other objects of interest, among 
 which mav be enumerated engravings ot the ancient cas- 
 tles and round towers, the ruins of the old churches, the 
 plundered monasteries, convents and abbeys of Irela--" 
 
 It will also contain correct Pictorial representations ol 
 works of art executed by Irishmen ot the present day, as 
 well as in former times, ' "' "^ "' ' * 
 
 Europe. 
 
 country and throughout 
 
 Tkbm*.— »2.00 per year, invariably in advance. 
 THOMAS O'NEILL, Proprietor, 
 
 No. M WuAsxixt SxaasT, BoiTOH, Uau. 
 
'Xuji'^'^ 
 
 VOLUME 2— NUMBER 52.] 
 
 BOSTON, SATURDAY, FEBRUARY 5, 1859. 
 
 [PRICE FOUR CENTS. 
 
 MUCROSS ABBEY. 
 
 This abbey adjoins the pretty village of Cloghreen, 
 Killarney. The «ite was chosen with the usual 
 judgment and taste of the ' monks of old,' who 
 invariably selected the pleasantest of all places. 
 The original name was Irelaugh ; and it appears 
 that, long prior to the erection of this now ruined 
 structure, a church existed in the same spot, which 
 was consumed by fire in 1192. The abbey was 
 built for Franciscan Monks, according to Archdall, 
 in 1410; but the 'Annals of the Four Masters ' 
 give its date a century earlier; both, however, 
 ascribes its foundation to one of the MacCarthys, 
 Princes of Desmond. The building consists of two 
 principal parts — the Convent and the Church. 
 The church is about 100 feet in length, and 2i in 
 breadth. The steeple, between the nave and the 
 chancel, rests on four high and slender pointed 
 arches. The principal entrance is by a handsome 
 pointed doorway, luxuriantly overgrown with ivy, 
 through which is seen the great eastern window, 
 
 a cut of which, with a general view of the interior, 
 is presented on the 5ih page. The intermediate 
 space, as indeed every part of the ruined edifice, is 
 filled with tombs, the greater number distinguished 
 only by a slight elevation from the mould around 
 them, but some bearing inscriptions to direct the 
 stranger where especial honor should be paid. A 
 large modern tomb in the centre of the choir covers 
 the vault wherein, in ancient times, were interred 
 the MacCarthy Mores, and, more recently, the 
 O'Donogoues More of the Glens, whose descendants 
 were buried here as late as the year 1833. Close to 
 this tomb, but on a level with the earth, is a slab 
 which formerly covered the vault. It is without 
 inscription, but bears the arms of the Earl ot Clan- 
 care. The dormitories, the kitchen, the refectory, 
 the cellars, the infirmary, and other chambers, are 
 still in a state of comparative preservation. The 
 upper rooms are unroofed.and the coarse grass grows 
 abundantly among them. The great fire-place of 
 the refectory is curious and interesting, affording 
 
 evidence that the good monks were not forgetful of 
 the duty they owed themselves, or of the bond 
 they entered into to act upon the advice of St. Paul, 
 and be given to hospitality. This recess is pointed 
 out as the bed of John Drake, a pilgrim, who, 
 about a centuary ago, took up his abode in the 
 abbey for several years. As will be supposed, his 
 singular choic" ot residence has given rise to 
 abundant stories, and the mention of his name to 
 any of the guides or boatmen will at once produce 
 a volume of the marvelous. The cloisters, which 
 consist of twenty-two arches, ten of them semicir- 
 cular, and twelve pointed, is the best preserved 
 portion of the abbey. In the centre grows a mag- 
 nificent yew-tree, which covers as a roof the whole 
 area ; its circumference is thirteen feet, and its 
 height iii proportion. It is more than probable 
 that this tree is coeval with the abbey, and was 
 planted by the hands of the monks who built the 
 sacred edifice centuries ago. The yew, it is known, 
 lives to a prodigious age. 
 
 .MlCliOSS Alllil'.V, Klia.AUNKV. 
 
402 
 
 IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 THE PRIVATE M EM Ol RS OF CAPTAI N ROCK. 
 >YH1TTK<< Br IIIMSELI'. 
 
 [Continued.] 
 
 CBAPTEU XXI. 
 
 CONTIKIES TO BB OUTLAWED. 
 
 We now held a council of war in Bryan's wigwam; 
 bac, before we hud come to any dcci>ion, Pat O'Learv 
 entered. The poor boy was bathed in tears, and could 
 scarcely speak for the ii;.;ony of (,'rief under which he 
 labored. From Muj;uiro he had k-«rued the jilaco of 
 our retreat, and his buniness was to inform his ^isicr 
 that their father was put under arrest, and (hat bis 
 mother begged of her to hasien to her aunt, who lived 
 at some distance, and remain thereuntil the storm had 
 blown over. When I had succeeded in reducing the 
 minds of the afllicted brother and sister lo comparative 
 composure, I inquired somewhat more minutcW into 
 the cause of O'Leary's arrest. Tho poor child could 
 only inform me that his father was taken into custody 
 by some ugly-looking men, and carried before a magis- 
 trate, on a charge of having fired at Major White. 
 ' But sure,' continued the lad, with the utmost sim- 
 plicity, ' my poor father is innocent, and don't you 
 think that they will not hurt him V 
 
 1 replied in a manner calculated to allay his fears, 
 and, without considering of ultimate steps, I set about 
 conveying Lucy to the house of her aunt, under whose 
 protection it was now very proper that she should be 
 placed. 
 
 Bryan, after half an hour's search on the mountain, 
 returned with his 'garron,' as he called an old cropped 
 marc, and having placed a kind of antiquated saddle 
 and pillion on her back, himself and Lucy mounted. 
 The latter was disguised in ihe best suit Mrs. Maguire's 
 wardrobe could supply, and Owen and I having armed 
 ourselves with a pistol, a sword, and a blunderbuss, 
 the party set forward. Bryan, who affected superior 
 prudence, undertook to conduct us to our place of des- 
 tination by a serious of by-road.^, and, the better to 
 prevent suspicion, he ordered Owen to form an ad- 
 vance guard, and directed me to bring up tho rear. 
 In this manner we proceeded on onr journey without 
 any interruption, and, after a walk of two hours, we 
 arrived at the comfortable farm-house of Mnrtha 
 Nowlan, whose ' moshough-lonking' wife received her 
 niSce with all that artless kindness which is so con- 
 genial to the habits and manners of the Irish peasantry. 
 The whole family, big and little, quickly gathered 
 around us to know the cause of our visit, for the de- 
 jected looks of poor Lucy proclaimed that our journey 
 was not for tho purpose of pleasure. They were no 
 sooner informerl of the events which had occurred to 
 their kinsman's family, than a simultaneous prayer 
 went np for his safety-. This, however, was almost im- 
 mediately followed by a very natural and unequicoval 
 expression of execration upon the vile major; and 
 Murtha, after looking grave for about ten minutes, 
 raised his eyes, clenched his list,8tamped on the ground, 
 and swore by the eternal 'gor,' that let what would 
 come, he'd stand by Tim O'Loary. • What's a man,' 
 ho continued, ' if he's not a man ? and, throth, 
 Murtha Nowlan is not the skveen who would skulk 
 off wid himself when a frind is in distress. Catty, 
 avournccn, put down a bigger piece of bacon, and a 
 few more heads of cabbage, and afther dinner I'll be 
 be jogging my ways wid these boys to see afther 
 poor Tim, for may be the blaggard magistrates might 
 send him to jail. 
 
 Mrs. Nowlan complied with the request of her hus- 
 band, and alter dinner, we were treated with a bottle 
 of our host's own making. Bryan seemed to like it 
 exceedingly well, and contrived, whenever Murtha 
 spoke of departing, to protract the time until after 
 another jug, and, at length, when he could not decently 
 refuse to quit the table, he scratched his head, and ad- 
 dressed Martha — 
 
 ' Mr. Nowlan,' said he, 'you are a real good neigh- 
 bor and friml as any in the seven pari.shes, and a 
 sensible man, too; but, some how or other, I am after advantage of a resident aristocracy. 
 
 for a day or two, bekasc, if you come now with us, 
 hot foot, it is ten chances to one but the ould rascally 
 major will smell out that Luc^- is with your mistress, 
 and that would bring you and the poor dear girl into 
 harm's way. So, in the name o' God, remain at homo 
 and mind your business, and seem to know noilieu for 
 a little while longer, and leuvo Tim O'Lcary to us, 
 and we'll manage him, for, troth, we are the boys that 
 knows how to do such things.' 
 
 After some hesitati(in,Murtha yielded to this advice, 
 anil we prepared lo depart. Our host and hostess, 
 with Lucy, accompanied us as far as the entrance to 
 the farm, and while Bryan kept the old couple in con- 
 versation, I contrived to steal a kiss from Lucy. It 
 was one more of pity than love, nnilj I am sure she 
 received it only as such. She begged of me to let her 
 know from time to time tho state of affairs in her 
 family, and, having promised to do so, we took our 
 leave of her and the jolly farmer and his wife. 
 
 On arriving at Mr. Maguire's a;rial residence, wu 
 had the mortification to learn that O'Lcary had been 
 scut off some hours before \o Clonmel juil, and, while 
 we were looking at each other in mute astonishment, 
 the hut was surrounded by armed men. Success in 
 such cases depends on decision, and for this I was 
 through life particularly remarkable. The blunder- 
 buss lay on ti.e table — I seized it, and discharged it at 
 the men, who now filled the door — then grasped a pis- 
 tol — called to my companions to fire — and, having 
 discharged our arms at once, the astonished parly fell 
 back, and we rushed through tiic door-way. The 
 panic which our sudden firing had created, lasted for 
 some minutes, and wheu our assailants had recovered 
 from it, we were beyond the reach of their shot. We 
 were, however, closely pursued ; but having added 
 wings, as it were, to our feet, we soon outstripped our 
 enemies. Fortunately, no one was killed, and but one 
 wounded, and he not dangerously. 
 
 Desperate as our fortune now was, and dangerous 
 as had been our late situation, I could not refrain from 
 laughing at t!ie lamentations which Bryan sent forth 
 when we found ourselves in a place of safety. His ex- 
 pressions of regret were not very complimentary to his 
 companions, for he did not conceal his opinion that to 
 Owen and I he was indebted for his misfortune. He 
 was now, however, iden tided with us, and, of course, 
 compelled to share our fortune. 
 
 Our pursuers kept up their search for several days, 
 and, consequently, we were obliged to be continually 
 on the alert. We removed from place to place, and, 
 as the weather was unusually fine, we generally took 
 up our abode for the night under the canopy of heaven. 
 A vagabond life of this description is not W'ithout its 
 pleasures, and in such a country as Italy, I am not at 
 all surprised to tiud. banditti abound there. There is 
 something romantic in wandering, completely armed, 
 through scenes of wildncss under a summer sky, and 
 lying down among tho perfumes of Nature's produc- 
 tions, with your pistols under your head, your sword 
 by your side, and your rifle thrown carelessly across 
 your knees beneath the suspicious pressure of the right 
 hand. You fell, under such circumstances, that you 
 inspire either dread or compa-ision, and that you are a 
 man ennobled by the persecution of power. You con- 
 sider yourself as one distinguished above the vulgar 
 herd, and your situation naturally inspires you with 
 heroic sentiments, though accjuired habits of vice fre- 
 quently counteract the influence of circumstances. We, 
 however, had no occasion to put our probity to the 
 test, for everywhere we were relieved freely, and treated 
 with the u'most kindness. The enemy of the laws is 
 too often, in Ireland, considered as one entitled to pro- 
 tection. 
 
 CHAPTER XXII. 
 T I M o'l EAUT's M18IORTDNSB. 
 While my companions and myself continued our 
 unsettled mode of life, poor Tim O'Leary continued 
 an inmate of Clonmel jail. The subsequent misfor- 
 tunes of this industrious man will show the peculiar 
 
 and family, on suspicion of having fired at Miijor 
 White, he possessed a ' cool hundred,' which, for secu- 
 rity, was enveloped in au old stocking, and deposited 
 in the thatch of his house. This was a secret lo which 
 his wife only was privy, and when Tim's character 
 was so unexpectedly endangered, the good woman had 
 no hesitation in drawing on this ' savings ' for tho 
 purpose of establishing his defence. Long before the 
 assizes, it was currently reported that White wa» pre-^ 
 pared with such a chain of circumstantial evidence as 
 would transport poor Tim, for Lord Ellenborough's 
 act, which makes malicious firing criminal, was not 
 then in force. My father, who was generally consult- 
 ed h;^the neighbors, when under any difficulty, recom- 
 mended Mrs. O'Leary to fee lawyers. He knew that 
 an ' alibi' could be readily established ; but then this 
 line of defence is always dangerous, and seldom suc- 
 cessful. An able counccllor is much better than an 
 unenlightened witness, for that conspiracy must bo 
 well hatched indeed, which an artful cross-examination 
 will not develope. 
 
 Tim's friends re-echoed the counsel of old Captain 
 Rock, for nothing can exceed tho confidence of tho 
 Irish peasantry in the skill of a lawyer. An attorney 
 was, therefore, applied to, and, as usual, he promised 
 success at a trifling expense. Subpienas were to be 
 served — and tliesc cost something. Briefs were to be 
 drawn up, and this could not be done wiihout money. 
 Five pounds thus followed five pounds, until Mrs. 
 O'Leary had parted with fifty of her yellow guineas. 
 She thought now that her husband was safe — but she 
 was mistaken. Counsel was still to be feed. 
 
 ' We must have Curran,' says attorney Corcoran, 
 'and one or two more. The crown lawyers will all bo 
 against us ; and, in order to be able to cope with them, 
 I think we should have three councellors at least for 
 the defence.' 
 
 ' Certainly,' replied Mrs. O'Leary, delighted with 
 the interest Mr. Corcoran took in the affair. 
 
 ' Well then,' said the attorney, 'I must have thirty 
 guineas more.' 
 
 Mrs. O'Leary was staggered — but what was she to 
 do ■? To refuse Mr. Corcoran was at once to offend 
 him, and endanger her husband; she several times 
 pleaded poverty and the hardship of her case. Tho 
 attorney affected to feel for her, and lamented that fee- 
 ing counsel was so expensive. Once more he assured 
 her that his own charges would be trifling, and thus 
 contrived to extract tho thirty guineas from Tim's old 
 stocking. Ill addition to tho attorney, Mrs. O'Leary 
 had other cormorants to satisfy ; her hand, as she 
 used to say herself, was never out of her pocket; and, 
 whenever she visited her husband, she had numberless 
 goalers and turnkeys lo fee ere she could obtain ad- 
 mission. At length the assizes drew near, aud the old 
 stocking was no longer a Fortunatus's purse — for it 
 held nothing. Clonmel is not a place where people 
 can live on the air; aud, as Mrs. Leary had to remain 
 in town for some days, she was obliged to sell a now 
 milch cow to meet the necessary expenses. 
 
 On the day of trial, I contrived to be present in court. 
 The clothes of an old man were sufficient disguise; for, 
 even Tim himself, as he looked around, could not re- 
 cognize me. I leaned up against the dock, and was 
 never less disposed to reverence tho laws, then wheu I 
 heard the clerk of the crown read the long indictment 
 which attributed so much crime and baseness to a man 
 whom I knew to be innocent. My feelings were par- 
 ticularly painful; O'Leary might be found guilty; and, 
 if transported, to me, in some measure, his misfortunes 
 were attributable. The first witness identified Tim 03 
 the man who fired the shot, and I had nearly lost all 
 hopes of justice, when Curran stood up to cross-ex- 
 amine the fellow who swore so positively. It was the 
 first time I had an opportunity of seeing an advocate 
 whose defence, a few years before, of a Catholic priest, 
 had procured him so much well merited popularity. 
 His appearance had nothing dignified iu it; his dress 
 was whatmight be called sliabb,y and hisconntenancc, 
 with the exception of his eyes, wa'; most repulsive. 
 These defects, however, were overlooked and forgot- 
 
 thinken that you might as well slay where you are | When Tim wa^ so crueUy dragged from his horn? ften when you listened to him for a few minutes, and. 
 
miSH MISCELLAISY. 
 
 403 
 
 oa thiaocpttsion, it wns impossible not to ailmire tUo 
 man. Tlio witness soon fell benciitli his wit and ridi- 
 cale, and while the court was convulsed with laughter, 
 the innocence of O'Loury and the baseness of his ac- 
 cusers were established. 
 
 Before Tim was discharged, however, additional fees 
 were to he paid, and, on his arrival at home that day, 
 he was minus an hundred guineas, and a new milch 
 cow. Considerable .is this sura was to a man who 
 held only thirty acres ot land, it weighed not an in- 
 stant against the hapiness ho felt on being restored to 
 his family. Lucy was at homo to receive her father, 
 and when I thought the first transports at meeting 
 were over, I made my appearance. I always thought 
 that mankind were predisposed to be happy; on this 
 evening we mutually agreed to forget the past, and 
 thint of nothing but the present. Several neighbors 
 called in to welcome O'Leary home, and wo all spent 
 a night, which I still remember, for its heartfelt enjoy- 
 ments. 
 
 Tim was one of those men who are industrious from 
 habit. Scarcely had he spent a day at home when he 
 renewed his agricultural employments, and few men in 
 the country ploughed and sowed to better purpose. 
 His harvest this jear was a most promising one, and, 
 while it waved in all the luxuriance of ripening yel- 
 low, MoloDy, the tithe-proctor, and his son, made their 
 appearance. As usual, they walked round each field 
 for the purpose of appraising the crop, previous to 
 settling the amount which fell to parson Cousins, who 
 had now settled in the country. Tim had one guinea 
 lett, and that one he slipped into Molony's hand, a 
 wink of promise was his only receipt, and he indulged 
 in the hope that this tithe season would not exceed 
 that of former years — he was mistaken. On attending 
 at a vestry in a few weeks after, he was surprised to 
 find thtst his tithe was doubled ! He remonstrated, 
 and was told to pay it in kind. To this he consented; 
 but omitted to serve the proper notice, consequently, 
 every tenth sheaf and tenth potatoe which he laid by 
 for the parson, perished on the ground. A citation to 
 the Bishop's Court followed. The amount of the tithe 
 was awarded, of course, and instead of the disputed 
 ten pounds, poor Tim had to pay just fifty. Ruin now 
 stared him in the face; his cattle were driven to pound 
 — sold by auction after being half-starved — and bought 
 by Cousins himself, for one-fourth of their value. 
 Unsubdued by misfortune, O'Leary was beginning to 
 recover from these calamities, when attorney Corcoran 
 sent in his bill — lor fifiy pounds ! This was quite un- 
 expected, for Mrs. O'Leary thought that she had satis- 
 fied the lawyer long since. Here, however, were items 
 in abundance for her money, and who could dispute a 
 lawyer's bill of costs 1 There was nothing to be done 
 but promise of payment. Tim gave his bond, and, in 
 two months, he was lodged in jail in default of pay- 
 ment. Our humane laws at this time let the unfortu- 
 nate debtor rot in prison, and poor O'Leary — now de- 
 prived of the means of making money — had little hopes 
 of ever being liberated. A year's rent was now coming 
 due, and but little prospect of his being able to pay it. 
 The mayor, however, had not been pressing for the 
 money, aud Tim was not a little surprised to receive a 
 visit from his agent. The purport of it, however, was 
 not of a nature to console a troubled spirit. His land- 
 lord required the prostitution of his child as the price 
 of forbearance, and, poor and heart-broken as Tim 
 was, he spurned the proposal with a virtuous indigna- 
 tion. The agitation and anxiety which followed 
 brought on illness, and, in a few days, symptoms of 
 the dreaded jail fever made its appearance. 
 
 The sufferings of a human being, instead of exciting 
 pity or regret in the breast of White, seemed only to 
 stimulate his hellish endeavors of triumphing over the 
 virtue of a pious and innocent girl. Ho wrote Lucy a 
 letter filled with all the fulsome nonsense which such 
 contemptible creatures think eloquence. He dwelt on 
 the situaiion of her father — hinted at his probable death 
 if he was not removed from his prison — and called 
 upon her, if she valued his life and the good of her 
 family, to fly into the arms of an ardent lover, who 
 would inrich her parents, and make a lady of herself. 
 
 Lucy handed me the letter, and desired that I would 
 answer it. I did so — but in a way of my own. I col- 
 lected a few friends, and one evening, while the major 
 was entertaining some 'bon vivauts,' I entered the par- 
 lor — read aloud his amorous epistle — and then made 
 him oat the paper on which it was written. Having 
 done this, land my companions departed. 
 
 The ridicule which this transaction brought on the 
 major forced him to quit the country for a short time, 
 and, before his return, poor Tim O'Leary had breathed 
 his last at Clonmel jail. 
 
 CHAPTER XXIII. 
 
 DEATH OF OLD CAPTAIN KOCK. 
 
 ' Yes, I have lost a father ! 
 
 The greatest blessing Heaven bestows on mortals, 
 And seldom found amidst these wilds of time, 
 A good, a worthy chieftain ! Hear me ! 
 Aud 1 will tell thee, in a few plain words, 
 How he deserved that best, that glorious title.' 
 
 Thomson. 
 The death of a great man is an event always to be 
 deplored; but particularly so when the deceased was 
 renowned for deeds of virtue and heroism. No one 
 can deny that old Captain Rock was distinguished in 
 his day for an extraordinary love of popular rights, 
 and a fearless attachment to the cause of his ancestors. 
 He might, perhaps, on abstract principles, have acted 
 erroneously in some of his proceedings; but no one, 
 who reflects on the sacrifices he made in support" of 
 Rockism, will doubt his sincerity. For upwards of 
 twenty years he battled against tithes and tithe-proc- 
 tors, and, as these are ",\vo evils prominent in the list 
 of Irish grievances, his country stands eminently in- 
 debted to him. Tis true his exertions did not imme- 
 diately lead to an amelioration of the condition of the 
 people, but that was not his fault; and here let me 
 acknowledge that his dying injunction to me was — 
 never to spare a tithe-proctor or a land-pirate. I 
 obeyed, with filial reverence, this dying command; and, 
 without waving any of my own claims to gratitude, I 
 must candidly acknowledge that, were it not for the 
 counsel of old Captain Rock, it is very possible that I 
 had not persevered so long in the cause of riot and 
 fighting. All Irishmen, therefore, are ever bound to 
 honor the memory of the venerable chieftain; and, as 
 his son, I hope I have always shown myself a worthy 
 descendant and a true son of Rock. Time has blunted 
 my affliction for his loss, and as, in the course of events, 
 I must soon follow him to the 'narrow house,' it would 
 be useless to shed now for him those tears which 
 ought to fall for the past errors of my life. 
 
 The state of Ireland at this period was miserable in 
 the extreme, and exhibited a picture humiliating to the 
 vanity of legislators. A free trade and national inde- 
 pendence had been declared ; yet the condition of the 
 people, so far from being improved, was manifestly 
 mu«h worse, and, in place of tranquility, discontent 
 was never more conspicuous. 
 
 Public credit received a severe shock, and our 
 manufacturers, being unemployed, experienced the 
 greatest wretchedness. Thousands crowded the streets 
 of Dublin in an almost famished condition — and it be- 
 came necessary to afford them some temporary relief 
 by public subscriptions, which on this occasion were 
 liberally entered into. 
 
 The populace, however, frequently assembled, and 
 committed unjustifiable outrage; they attacked the 
 houses and persons of several shopkeepers, who were 
 suspected of not adhering to the spirit of the non-im- 
 portation agreement, and they proceeded, after the 
 American fashion, to the desperate measure of ' tirring 
 and feathering.' Some few fell within the reach of 
 their resentment, and recivcd this punishment accord- 
 ingly, and, in an instance, the mob proceeded to such 
 extremities, that one of the high sheritl's, in endeavor- 
 ing to suppress them, received a severe wound in the 
 head. Matters would have proved of still more serious 
 consequence had not a part of the military, headed by 
 another magistrate, fortunately come to the sheriff's 
 BBsistancc. 
 About the same time, Mr. Gardiner, afterwards Lord 
 
 Mounljoy, moved the following resolutions in parlia- 
 ment ; — i'irst, that many of the trading people of this 
 kingdom were in the greatest calamity and distress. 
 Seondly, that the importaliou of foreign articles into 
 this kingdom had con^iderHbly increased for a serious 
 of years, and still continued to do so. Thirdly, that it 
 was necessary for parliament to interfere and alleviate 
 the present distresses of the public. 
 
 ' This measure,' said he, ' has not been brought 
 forward irregularly — it is grounded on the report of a 
 committee, aud the petiteons of the people. 1 confess, 
 sir, X am strongly biassed in its favor. The despon- 
 dency and distress of this country, together with the 
 justice and expediency of ihe measure itself, must 
 make every gentleman its friend. Who can behold so 
 many thousands ot his fellow-creatures struggling 
 with calamities, almost insupportable by humanity, 
 and not incline to give relief ? The misfortune is not 
 particular — it is universal — not confined to Dublin, it 
 extends to Cork, Limerick, Waterford, the Queen's 
 County, and every part of the kingdom where the 
 woolen manufacture is carried on — not limited to even 
 the woolen, but aft'ecting every infant manufacture in 
 this country. 
 
 With respect to the poverty and wretchedness of 
 this miserable description of our fellow-creatures, I 
 think it unnecessary to use a single word. Gentlemen 
 cannot but know the reality ot this fact already; it is 
 impossible to go through the streets without meeting 
 testimonies that this assertion is but too well founded. 
 If, however, gentlemen choose to dispute a thing so 
 self-evident, I am ready to produce witnesses of char- 
 acter at your bar, to put it beyond dispute. 
 
 Something must be done to relieve the thousands 
 who now are famishing in your streets. The city of 
 Dublin, with a degree of humanity that will ever do 
 it honor, has hitherto succoured them by voluntary 
 donations. But the donations of the city of Dublin 
 will be found inadequate to the miseries of those poor 
 men. The non-importation agreement, entered into 
 in 1779, afforded them some small relief for that time, 
 but served only to augment their distress since, as 
 magnazines of English cloth were then formed in this 
 country. 
 
 Another expedient was, the establishing manufac- 
 tories here ; but, sir, these have ended generally in the 
 ruin of those who have attempted it. 
 
 At such a time, and under such circumstances, it 
 was natural to expect the genius of Rockism to raise 
 his head and summon his satellites about him. His 
 fire, like that of Will-o'-the- Wisp's, is ignited only 
 when surrounding circumstances are rotten and un- 
 healthy, and when the country wears a gloomy aspect, 
 it is sure to lead several people astray. The neigh- 
 borhood of Rockglen was always favorable to the 
 designs of our family ; but, on this occasion, the 
 county of Kilkenny wore a most inviting aspect. 
 Houses every night, like meteors, flamed amid the 
 surrounding darkness — and tiihe-proctors were every- 
 where objects of delight to those who could catch 
 them. Early in the spring a body of delegates arrived 
 at my father's, and after a few hours negotiation, I 
 consented to become the Captain of the Kilkenny 
 Rockites. For the first time I mounted the chieftain's 
 cap and feather; and accompanied by Owen and Ma- 
 guire, set out for the purpose of reducing discontent to 
 system, and teaching the Kilkenny boys how to ' hough' 
 and burn by rule. We found everything in the most 
 deligtful state of preparation. The people were unable 
 to pay either rents or tithes; but still were, of course, 
 resolved to live. To do this they considered it was 
 absolutely necessarry to combine for mutual support, 
 and opposed a law of their own to the law of tho 
 
 land. 
 
 Scarcely had I entered on the exercise of my new 
 authority, when a messenger from Rockglen summoned 
 me home to close the eyes of my dying father. The 
 aged ca]>tain, during my absence, had taken the field 
 once more in person, for the purpose of preserving the 
 little househould property of the poor from the graip 
 of legal minions. la the di8c;.arge of his duty he mat 
 h'j death. 
 
404 
 
 IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 Mrs. O'Lcan', on the death of her husbnnd, was 
 obliged to let hcrfaim to a man who advanced money 
 to pay off all incumbrances. Uy doing this she 
 reserved three acres of land and an outhouse for 
 herself and helpless family. She made every pos- 
 sible exertion to keep them from beggary ; but, 
 even here, the system pursued her. The grand 
 jury cess — a tax even more enormous than tithes — 
 ■was demanded of her, and, as she was not prepared 
 to discharge it, her only cow was driven towards 
 the pound. My father met the constable and iiis 
 assistants, and desired them to desist — said the poor 
 widow wanted the cow's milk for her little family — 
 and insisted on their driving the beast back. This 
 they refused to do ; from words they came to 
 blows; and, in the event, my father was wounded 
 — a pistol ball having lodged in his body. A 
 younger man might have recovered, but the cap- 
 tain's constitution had been long impaired. When 
 he saw no hopes of life, he sent to command my 
 attendance, and, on my arrival, he put into my 
 hands a sealed packet. 
 
 ' 'I'here, Decimus.' said he, 'is the will and tes- 
 tament of your father, with some other things ne- 
 cessary for you to know when I am gone. Bo not 
 open that packet until I am in my cold grave, and 
 then I request it may be done in private. 1 have 
 only to add to what is contained in it, that you 
 will never give peace to tithe-proctors and land- 
 pirates !' 
 
 So anxious was he on this subject, that he re- 
 peated these words twice the same evening, and 
 the next morning, when the shadow of death was 
 on him, he took my hand and said, ' Decimus ! re- 
 member ! no peace for tithe-proctors and land- 
 piratea !' In a few minutes after he breathed his 
 
 iMt, 
 
 [To be Continued.] 
 
 most usual transmutation, from bring considered | and venting her whole store of wrath on the poor 
 the handsome ne'er-do-well ot the parish, became, I boccaugh, she angrily bade him begone for an idle 
 all of a sudden, the admired of alt beholders, the i vagabond. 
 
 THE BOCCAUCH'S CURSE. 
 
 Among all the sweet scenes of my native home, 
 that fancy paints for my mind's eye in the cairn 
 soft twilight, there is not one over the memory of 
 which it delights me more to linger, than the snug 
 little embowered farm-house of Dunglass, and its 
 comfortable, good-humored occupants, D-frmod 
 Moran and his pretty Xorah. Charity and hospi- 
 tality are, I am proud to say, no scarce virtues 
 among my countrymen ; but here they flourished 
 in their glory. Not a poor neighbor within the 
 circuit of a mile — not a beggar went the road — but 
 could boast of having received the ready and wel- 
 come aid which the worthy couple seemed almost 
 proud to be able to offer; and never did the bless- 
 ings of the grateful distressed bestow a richer re- 
 ward, for Derraod's crops and cattle would have 
 been the envy of the whole country round, if they 
 could have had the heart to envy such a man any 
 thing. However, when old crones would gather 
 at a waKe or other meeting, and begin, like their 
 betters, to grow tired of praising their neighbors, 
 and qualify their former good words with a little 
 scandal, I must acknowledge, that Dermod and 
 his Norah used come to in occasionally for a sly 
 remark from the old ladies, who could declare that, 
 ' there was a time when they had full and plenty, 
 and yet the poor were no botthcr for it ; but any 
 how, they suffered hard for it, an' sure now that 
 they're well off agin, and show how they know 
 betthcr, we ouglm't to be thinkin' of what's past 
 and gone.' All this was perfectly true; and, more- 
 over, as the story is worth telling, I do not see why 
 I should put myself under the same restraint with 
 those respectable old ladies, particularly as I am 
 sure I am among friends who will let it go no fur- 
 ther. 
 
 Uermond Moran was little more than a green 
 gossoon, when a rich uncle, the former proprietor 
 of Dunglass, left him his interest in the farm, and 
 a utockiijg full of guineas, ^hefeby our hero, by a 
 
 general mark of every bustling buddogh that had a 
 daughter to dispose of, and eveiy little girl that 
 had a hand to I'o the like with. In fact, everyone 
 of his hidden virtues burst forth with such a blaze, 
 that his vices, if he had any, were quite lost in the 
 splendor. To tell the truth, Dermod had virtues, 
 and it was none of the least of them that his liead 
 was not turned as well as his character, or that the 
 volley of kind looks showered on him from all 
 quarters, scarcely for a moment caused him to 
 swerve from the vows of his other days. A few 
 months passed over the head of this new Fortuna- 
 tus, and not without imparting to him an ordinary 
 share of wisdom and steadiness, evinced perhaps 
 by his donning his best habiliments one finu sum- 
 mer's morning, and making his way over the fluids 
 to the cottage of the widow Mooney and her 
 daughter Norah, who in his darker days took little 
 time to consider before she blushed an aflirmative 
 to the suit which the wild but generous boy so 
 ardently pressed at a time when either had little 
 thought of his future good fortune. The widow 
 and her child were sitting in front of their Utile 
 cottage at their spinning wheels when the rather 
 unexpected, though long-hoped for, recreant stood 
 before them with as much love and happiness 
 beaming in his eyes as ever set a maiden's heart at 
 rest on all-important subject. 
 
 ' Norah,' said he, before the poor girl had half- 
 recovered from her delightful surprise, ' 'twas noth- 
 ing kept me, but just waitin' till all was ready, and 
 that 'ud be no delays; an', maybe, to have a bit of 
 fun with them things beyant, that never looked the 
 same side of the road with me afore; so, acushla, 
 don't blame me for keepin' them in the dark; but 
 come wid me, an' let me show them the choice I 
 made.' 
 
 While he was uttering these few words, the 
 cheeks of the little maiden underwent as many 
 changes as ever such words could excite, and at 
 length, with some difficulty, she was enabled to 
 answer. 
 
 ' Och, Dermod avick, it's sure enough that I was 
 fretted by your not comin'; but, any how, I knew 
 it wasn't to be, and it oughn't to be, for you're rich 
 now, and I've nothin' but the ould white-faced 
 cow. So, DOW, don'tmind my crying, fori can't help 
 it ; but go and look for some fortune, and forget me, 
 and heaven bless you." 
 
 My readers may be sure that the tears which 
 burst from her eyes during this little harangue, 
 completly invalidated her advice, for Dermod 
 warmly pressing her hand with all the fervency of 
 a fond heart, declared that, rich or poor, she was 
 his, and should be his; and he kept his promise, for 
 before that day three weeks Norah Mooney and 
 her old white-faced cow were ensconced in Dun- 
 glass, to the no small surprise of the would-be wise 
 and prudent people of the neighborhood. Time 
 passed on — but, unfortunately, the taunts and 
 thwartings which poor Norah daily met from her 
 less fortunate rivals, hindered time from accustom- 
 ing her to her change of condition, or awaking a 
 proper feeling in her bosom on account of it. In a 
 word, Norah became proud and seltish — her temper, 
 naturally bland and gentle, soured beneath un- 
 kindncss.and, in spite of all the blessings she enjoy- 
 ed, she became so ungiateful as to drive from her 
 door the very objects of charity who before shared 
 with welcome her very meal. Things were going 
 on in this unpleasant manner, when a poor old beg- 
 garman, lame and half blind, crawled one day to 
 her door, and prayed for a little help, but prayed 
 in vain. Some busy neighbor had a few moments 
 before carried her. with a little exaggeration, an 
 unkind remark made on her while at mass on the 
 Sunday, by one of her husband's former admirers; 
 
 ' Misthress dear,' whined the old man, ' for the 
 love of your honest father, don't send me away 
 without something,' for I'm poor and tired.' 
 
 ' Sorrn a ha'porth !' ejaculated the angry woman 
 — I'go along and work, there's many n waker man 
 than you breaking stones on the road below.' 
 ' Och, acushla, a taste of the buttermilk, itself.' 
 ' No, thin, if it was to make a young boy of you.' 
 ' Well, then,' said the boccaugh, ' ma) the curse 
 of a poor old man lie at your niggardly door, as 
 long as you have the worth of a white tinpenny inside 
 of it to lose — Amin an' amin !' and he turned round 
 and went his way. 
 
 The solemnity with which he had spoken the im- 
 precation, in some degree calmed the fury into 
 which the tell-tale had thrown her; and in a minute 
 or two she opened the door and looked out, to call 
 back the beggarman, but he was already beyond 
 hearing, and her pride prevented her following him 
 to induce him to deprecate his malison. That 
 evening was the commencement of her misfortunes, 
 and scarcely a week passed over that did not bring 
 some misfortune in its train-— their cattle died, their 
 crops missed, and, in the midst of all their troubles, 
 her eldest cliild was born; and this, which at any 
 other time would have been a blessing, ranktd now 
 among her worst misfortunes, for on leaving her 
 t,iek bed she found a far different face on her little 
 place, than when she lay down, bad as it was then. 
 However, she had yet to bear worse privations. 
 The 'ould white-faced cow ' was all that remained 
 from their once abundant stock when the little one 
 was weaned, and the small quantum of milk which 
 she afforded had become in itself a great blessing — 
 but necessity at length compelled them to part with 
 her. 
 
 ' All our bad luck go with her, Dermod achra,' 
 said the heart-broken woman, when this step was 
 at length determined ; but the levity with which 
 she spoke was evidently assumed to stifle the sob 
 that would else have chocked her. Poor Dermod 
 saw the agony she suffered, and knew well how 
 much comparative comfort they were about to re- 
 linquish ; but what could he do — he had lived three 
 months on provisions obtained on time, and the 
 moment was come when he should pay double 
 their value for them, or go to jail. For his child 
 and his own Norah he could bear the latter alterna- 
 tive with cheerfulness, and in his heart he deter- 
 mined to run the risk. 
 
 'Norah, acushla!' exclaimed he, suddenly, 'sure 
 we needn't sell her. Red Rody can wait a month 
 or two for the price of the meal, an' the docthor, 
 maybe, won't press us — an' — an' — who knows what 
 might turn up afore the sessions, anyhow.' 
 
 ' Oh, no, Dermod !' said the wife, overcome ut- 
 terly, and sinking on her chair in a flood of tears — 
 ' Heaven knows how bad -we can do without her — 
 but we can do without her ; but, Dermod, asthore 
 machree, what 'ud I do without you, at all at all. 
 Oh no, Dermod — to-morrow she must go to the 
 fair, and I'll go wid you, acushla, to keep your 
 heart up.' 
 
 Early next day the cow was driven out of her 
 little pasture, where she was no more to feed, and 
 the beggard couple proceeded on their way to the fair 
 
 of Bally , which was to be held that day. The 
 
 silence was broken by neither party, except by the 
 occasional sob which burst from poor Norah in spite 
 of herself, when she thought how often she sat 
 under the old cow with the light merry heart which 
 she was never, never more to possess; and the oc- 
 casional effort made by Dermod to whistle a tune, 
 and show how well he bore his misfortune. At 
 length the tedious journey was at an end, and they 
 arrived at the fair-green. The invitations of the 
 gingerbread women, the inflated harangue of the 
 
IHISB MISCELLANY. 
 
 405 
 
 showhmen, the jabber of 
 the gentlemen of thu 
 thirablerig, the lowing of 
 cattle, the aqualling of the 
 pigs, the quarrels of the 
 drivers, and the idle laugli 
 of the gaping rustics, alto- 
 gether formed a hubbub 
 vhich can never be appre- 
 ciated but by those who 
 have at some time lucu- 
 brated in that terrestrial 
 paradise — an Irish coun- 
 try fair. This enlivening 
 scene, though little in ac- 
 cordance with the feelings 
 of either, roused them 
 from the lethargy of silent 
 but powerful grief into 
 ■which they had sunk; and 
 Dermod, pointing to a tent 
 at the verge of the green, 
 bade Norah sit there until 
 he came to her, at the 
 same time handing her a 
 penny, with a smile, and 
 bidding her buy ginger- 
 bread with it, though it 
 and the needful luck-pon- 
 ny completed his wordly 
 ■wealth, so far as His Mi- 
 jesty's coinage went. — 
 Miking som'5 light, but 
 almost ineffiCtual attempt 
 to answer in the same spirit 
 she turned to the direction 
 he pointed out, and they 
 separated. Poor Norah 
 had sat there for a long 
 
 time, waiting the return of her husband, with the 
 painful, but unavoidable news, that their last com- 
 fort was parted with, and their last possible sacrifice 
 made; but he did not return. She would have risen, 
 and sought him, but for the positive directions given 
 to her to make that tent their rendezvous ; and 
 the deep hungry anxiety that gradually stole across 
 her, together with her previous sufferings, and her 
 lonely, sorrowful condition, amid so many bustling 
 and apparently happy individuals, quite overcame 
 her, and resting her head on her bosom, she wept 
 long and bitterly, until her convulsive spasms, and 
 the noise of a riotous mob approaching where she 
 sat, awakened the baby, which until now had hap- 
 pily slumbered at her breast. Engaged as she was 
 in quieting its cries, and endeavoring to restore it 
 to sleep, she scarcely minded that a dense crowd 
 was approaching her, huzzaing, quarrelling, ex- 
 horting, shouting, and, in fact, making every species 
 of noise usual on such occasions; while far in their 
 front was a woman apparently pursued by them. 
 For a minute or two the tents, by their intricacies, 
 intervened between Norah and the disturbance, and 
 the woman, taking advantage of this momentary 
 escape, made a slight deviation from her route, 
 unobserved by any one, and stood panting in from 
 of Norah, who was first aroused from her engros- 
 sing occupation by the stranger's hurried exclama- 
 tion — 'Confusion to ye Biddy, is that you sitting so 
 quiet there, while I might have been cotch and 
 thransported, for all the help you or any ov thim 
 gev me. Here, take this, an' I'll draw them off, 
 an" let them catch me,' at the same time flinging 
 into her lap a small bundle; and rushing past her, 
 she flew like an arrow on her former path, and the 
 fugitive and her pursuers were out of hearing be- 
 fore she roused from her surprise. 
 
 INTERIOR OF MTJCROSS ABBEY— [See First 
 features completely in the shade, it was evident 
 that she had been mistaken for some other, to whom 
 she bore, perhaps, a resemblance in size or dress. 
 As soon as she had settled this probability to her 
 satisfaction, her attention was directed to the bundle 
 which had been thrown to her. It consisted of an 
 old pocket, rudely tied round ■with a garter, and 
 containing several parcels, of different sizes and 
 shapes. To open it was her first act after examin- 
 ing it; and on doing so a quantity of notes and 
 coins of all descriptions, watches, snuff-boxes, and 
 a large pocket-book fell out into her lap. Astound- 
 ed at the discovery, she hastily gathered them, and 
 crammed them back into the pocket, lest any one 
 Aould behold her good fortune. But in replacing 
 ihem so hastily, she burst the fastenings of the 
 pocket-book, and displayed to her astonished and 
 half-doubting eyes a roll of notes ■within which 
 seemed enough to purchase a barony. Crazed with 
 delight, she almost screamed for joy, and thrust the 
 whole parcel into her bosom. Just then Dermod 
 came to her, and if a painter wished a model of the 
 most insane joy, and its contrast, he might have^ob- 
 tained it in the countenances of the two. Norah 
 was the first to speak — not that she noticed the 
 leep, maniac defection of his manner, but because 
 •he wished to break to him the tale of their good 
 fortune. 
 
 ' You sowld the cow, Dermod avick,' said she. 
 
 ' Wirra ! wirra ! I did, and a sore selling 1 made 
 of it,' was the answer. 
 
 ' Don't fret, avick ; we'll see the day •when we'll 
 have another, jewel. And now how much have 
 you to give me, for good luck.' 
 
 'Norah, Norah, acaslila machree, we're beggared 
 out and out,' was the wild answer he made the 
 affrighted woman, who now for the first time saw 
 
 When first addressed so rudely, she had raised j something was wrong, 'a thievin" pick-pocket stole 
 her head to look at the intruder ; but the hood of | the money from me afore I had it in a minnit in my 
 her cloak being thrown over it, so as to cast her 'pocket, and we muit take to the side of the road at 
 
 last — ochone, ochone ! ' 
 and ho cast himself down 
 with frightful force on a 
 bank beside her, and cov- 
 ering his face with his 
 hands, wept like a child. 
 A ray of light burst in on 
 her, and quick as thought 
 she laid the baby on the 
 grass, and emptying the 
 contents of the pocket into 
 her apron, pread them 
 before him. ' Dermod,' 
 said she, ' if it's not there 
 among them, there's what's 
 as good as it any day.' 
 He looked at the store 
 of wealth she presented to 
 his view, and at her de- 
 lighted face, alternately, 
 for a few momenta. At 
 length, fi.xing his eye on 
 a piece of an old apron 
 tied up with many cun- 
 ning knots and folds, he 
 grasped it with a trembl- 
 ing hand, and having 
 made a vein effort to undo 
 the fastenings, at length 
 held it to Norah, exclaim- 
 ing — ' Chona machree, try 
 it you; the sight's out of 
 my eye.s, and the strength 
 from my fingers. Five 
 pound four oiaght to be in 
 it, if it's mine.' ' There 
 you have it now — five 
 pounds four shillings. — 
 Page.] Och, acushla, I'm wake 
 
 wid joy.' And now we may explain the circum- 
 stances which brought about this happy surprise. 
 Soon after Dermod had been paid f&r his tow, a 
 dreadful confusion began to spread through the 
 whole fair — a rich linglishman, who had,been pur- 
 chasing stock to a large amount, on searching for 
 his pocket-book, containing all his money in bank- 
 notes, discovered that it ■«'a3 not to be had. The 
 people whose cattle he had purchased, and who 
 were waiting to be paid, on hearing of his loss, 
 gathered from all sides, demanding their cattle or 
 the money. Wives were seen hurrying for their 
 husbands, and young girls for their fathers or 
 brothers,to acquaint them of the misfortune, and send 
 them in time to prevent the removal of the stock. 
 Amid the general confusion liermod put his hand 
 into his pocket to secure his little all from a like 
 fatality — it was gone. Severai other bad arlso lost 
 sums of money, and other property. However, 
 some information had been received respecting a 
 suspicious ■woman, and on the magistrates acquaint- 
 ing the sufferers with her description, a general 
 search was made for her. The woman, on finding 
 herself discovered, fled and was pursued, but when 
 caught, not a farthing was foimd on her person. 
 This deprived Dermvxl of a few hopes that slill 
 encouraged him, and he returned to his wife with 
 the ill-tidings, a wretched and broken man. To 
 his credit be it spoken, he handed to the magistrates 
 the -whole prize, for the purpose of having all re- 
 stored to the respective owners. On the circum- 
 stances of the case being represfnted to all, a col- 
 lection in the nature of a reward was cheerfully 
 made for Dermod, and that evening he found him- 
 self as rich a man as ever he was, and with a charac- 
 rer, not only untarnisheci, but really very highly 
 spoken of. (jratiude to the Being who had so un- 
 expectedly rescued them from beggary, led him and 
 his wife to pursue a f.ir different line of conduct 
 Irom that wlufli was nigh tuJuig so disastrously; 
 yet, Miange to ^ay, they had rjviously con .umated 
 in every particular the boccaugh's curse. 
 
4(ih 
 
 IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 MY CONSULSHIP. 
 
 ROME AND POPE PIUS THE NINTH. 
 
 DT C. ED WARDS 1, ESTEll. 
 
 It is impossible to say where the mad joy of the 
 Koman people would have found its limits had not 
 a proclamation appeared, expressinj;, in the most 
 benignant manner, the thanks of the Pontiff for the 
 affection his subjects had shown him, accompanied 
 by II n order (in the form of fraternal counsel), that 
 the public feeling should be restrained, ' since mod- 
 eration in all things should be the motto of a state 
 that tended to progress,' The import of these kind 
 but firm words was universally understood, and the 
 public joy was content to manifest itself in a more 
 quiet way. But the nightly illuminations were 
 continued, and the PontilV never appeared without 
 being hailed with vivas and acclamations. All felt 
 that a new day was breaking upon Italy. Thus 
 ended Home's Three Glorious Days ! 
 
 The first convulsion of joy for the pardon had not 
 subsided before Rome was astonished and delighted 
 by the promise of railways, w hilc at the same period 
 the most lively encouragement was given by the 
 Pope to associations and meetings for agriculture, 
 commerce, manufactures and mining. 
 
 A commission of enlightened practical men was 
 appointed to examine the plans of the railways pro- 
 jected for the pon'ilical states. The commissioners 
 went vigorously to work, and, on the 7th of Novem- 
 ber the same year, lines were chartered from Rome 
 to the frontier of Naples — to the port of Anzio on 
 the Adriatic, to Civita Vccchia on the Tyrrhean 
 Sea, and to Ancona and Bologna along the traces of 
 the Flaminian Way. These routes extend in five 
 directions from the capital, like the ancient post 
 roads over which the couriers of the Roman em- 
 pire flew to carry laws to the sovereigns of the 
 •world. 
 
 The edict ■which fehowcd that Pius IX. was dis- 
 posed to use his power as a civil prince, for better 
 purposes than many Kings or some Presidents had 
 been inclined to do, was received with almost as 
 much enthusiasm as the amnesty had been, and 
 gave rise to another succession of festivals and cele- 
 brations. 
 
 The citizens of Rome began to feel that they were 
 then received back into the circle of human brother- 
 hood, that they could again, without blushing, hear 
 their own State reckoned among the family of na- 
 tions. Capitalists began to cluster thick on 'Change, 
 and the dull, half-spirited look of the unemployed 
 classes gave way to the hopeful expression of active 
 men, with strong muscles, who have something to 
 look forward to. There was every where manifest 
 the spirit of business; the consciousness that money 
 ■was no longer to be liorded up to rust, and that 
 good strong arms were no longer to be folded idle 
 over the deep breasts of hungry men. Laborers 
 now had their festas and banquets, and princely 
 bankers could now drink toasts to the pick and the 
 spade — those cunningly shaped tooU that are spread- 
 ing civilization faster thau the spears and eagles of 
 the Romans. Some thousands of the modern 
 Romans, who have fallen so far below the hardy 
 race, from ■whom they have derived their ori- 
 gin, only because they have been crushed by ty- 
 ranny and besotted by ignorance, flung aside their 
 crazy hand-organs, from which succcasive genera- 
 tions had ground most dolorous music, and took up 
 the more useful inventions of Tubal Cain, the 
 brother of their former patron Jubal. The fire- 
 ■works of Prince Torlonia, the great banker of 
 Italy, Inaugurated the new reign of the pick and 
 the spade. 
 
 About this time the Spanish marriages had been 
 secretly decided on in the cabinet of Louis Philippe. 
 The whole world now knows that this silly step on 
 the part of the French ICing was one of the princi- 
 pal causes of his overthrow. JI. Rossi, the French 
 
 Ambassador to Home, had hitherto been an enthu- 
 siast for Pius IX. A native of Italy — an exile from 
 his country — having gained a high position in the 
 scientific world of France, where he had been pro- 
 moted to honor and dignity, and adiievcd a well- 
 deserved eminence, was, withal, a settled intriguer. 
 He was not an honest man ; and altliough the war 
 rang with the guilt of his murder, he courted the 
 dagger of the assasin by selling himself to that 
 royal Jew, Louis Philippe, who bought up most of 
 the men and pictures in Europe for sale, always 
 giving the preference, however, to pictures in flesh 
 over those in oil. 
 
 Vie know absolutely that M. Kossi, during his 
 ambassadorship at Rome, was continually intrigu- 
 ing with the confidential agents of Louise Philippe, 
 under the generalship of M. Quizot, the Protestant 
 minister ci-devant schoolmaster, but always the 
 cool, irapurtable, smooth, noiseless, heartless poli- 
 tician, and just shallow enough to fall a victim to his 
 little five-foot body against the tramp of two hun- 
 dred millions of men with, George Washington's 
 republic in the western hemisphere, holding out the 
 banner of liberty to all nations, full on their view. 
 Well, M. Rossi had been called to Paris, after he 
 had lain all his mains in Rome, to receive new in- 
 structions to regulate his conduct on his return, 
 in reference to the afiiiirs of the ecclesiastical states, 
 and the other governments of the continent, par- 
 ticularly of Austria. He returned soon after, and 
 his course vtry quickly demonstrated that it ■was 
 the policy of Louis Philippe to conciliate Austria at 
 any expense. 
 
 The Pope found this out very quick, and to one 
 of his confidential friends he said — 
 
 ' I have lost Rossi, and now there is not a diplo- 
 matist in Rome who would not be glad to see my 
 throat cut.' 
 
 That same day Padre Ventura went to the Quiri- 
 nal, ■where, at that period, he ■was always welcome. 
 'Well, father," said the Pope, 'France abandons us. 
 What I feared a short time ago has become a fact. 
 There is no longer a power in Europe with us, ex- 
 cept the Turk.' 
 
 ' Well, father,' replied Ventura, ' God, and the 
 people, and justice, are with you — with such allies 
 you can very easily dispense with diplomatists and 
 kings.' 
 
 But the hammer was leveling steady, merciless, 
 unrelenting strokes, hour by hour, and second by 
 second, upon this mountain crystal, which ■was at 
 last to be broken to pieces. 
 
 Ceaselessly, by the admantine foundation of this 
 noble castle, the al'.-wasting stream was flowing. 
 The structure seemed, in the one case, to divide the 
 flow of ages ; in the other, no blow seemed to be 
 heavy enough to break that light-giving eternal 
 diamond. Nor was it a single blow — no blast could 
 have torn up the roots of this mighty tree. It went 
 branch by branch ; it bent day by day ; it died a 
 slow and lingering death ; and yet the crystal was 
 broken, the castle was undermined, and the oak at 
 last dried up at the roots. It stands there still ; 
 and he has been the master-workman of the society 
 of Jesus. Poor old Pio Nono ! But we will go on 
 with thy glorious days. 
 
 In the meantime, the Gth of November, the day 
 when the Pontiff was to take solemn possession of 
 San Giovanni di Latenino, was approaching, and 
 preparations ■were making for the magnificent cere- 
 monies, in honor of the occasion. The public mind 
 was prepared for this celebration by the publication 
 of new reforms. The attention of the Jurisconsults 
 of Europe was arrested by the .announcement that 
 he had appointed a commission for the reform of 
 the civil and criminal code of the Roman State, and 
 that Silvana, and Giuliani, and Pagano, the most 
 learned professors of jurisprudence in Italy, had 
 been entrusted with the immense labor. Perhaps 
 
 no nation in the civilized world had a code less 
 
 ■tt'orthy of an enlightened people, and certainly no 
 country had produced so many illustrious juriscon- 
 sults. Under the Caesars, Rome had given laws to 
 the world ; and ■«'hen the vast fabric of the empire 
 had fallen to the earth, and tumbled its ruins over 
 two hundred millions of men, the world dragged 
 from them the Pandects of Justinian, which laid the 
 foundations of every state and society in ihe modern 
 world. From the era of the republic of Amalfi, 
 down through the Jliddle Ages, Italy had been al- 
 most the only fountain of legislative, judicial and 
 civic light. The nations of the centre and the north 
 of Europe borrowed the institutions of Italy, as the 
 moderns had copied their sculptures from the mar- 
 bles of Greece. Napoleon laid contributions on the 
 genius of all Europe for the compilation of his code, 
 and yet, when it was brought to him, he said, 'Is it 
 true, then, that there is no other basis for jurispru- 
 dence but that of Rome." 
 
 ' I know of no other," was the honest reply of the 
 jurist to whom he spoke. 
 
 ' The Romans were right, then,' replied the Em- 
 peror, ' in calling the city eternal, for Rome will 
 rule the world by her la^«s, when the last stone in 
 the Coliseum has become dust.' 
 
 And yet the mysterious city, which had been the 
 university of mankind, whither young Europe had 
 gone for its laws and its civilization, had, like the 
 devoted bird, torn out her own vitals to feed her 
 young. 
 
 It was, therefore, a grateful spectacle to enlight- 
 ened jurisconsults of Europe, to see a commission 
 appointed by a Pontifl' of Rome, to reform the code 
 of that solitary remaining fragment of the ancient 
 empire. Oh, what days those were in Italy. The 
 Phcenix seemed to be rising from its ashes. 
 
 A commission was also appointed to inquire into 
 the ■wants of the poor in all the provinces of the 
 State, and to project plans for their relief. We 
 have already, in depicting the condition of the pon- 
 tifical states, spoken of the decadence of the 
 Roman states, and the consequent prevalence of 
 squalid suffering and crime. We have glanced at 
 the causes of this alarming condition of things. 
 With an eye ■which seemed to be gifted with the 
 ubiquity of vision, the successor of Gregory XVI. 
 had detected most of the evils of society, and the 
 corruption of government, and began to apply reme- 
 dies as rapidly as possible. 'The most appalling 
 evils had been ended by a few strokes ; but society 
 could not be regenerated in this way — it had to wait 
 for the slow action of time. That no possible 
 agency might be wanting, the Pontiff called into his 
 service the best — in fact, it was even said the only 
 man in his dominions to investigate and act for 
 him. He did his own thinking, and displayed ex- 
 traordinary sagacity in the choice of his men, for 
 without regard to party, rank, or opinion, he se- 
 cured the ablest men in his State, and not unfre- 
 quently intrusted commissions to foreigners. He 
 said in his justification for this course — ' Am I not 
 the head of the Catholic church, and is not the 
 Cotholic church the universal church ? Are not its 
 children found among all nations ? True, I have a 
 nationality as an Italian, but 1 have a paternity 
 which is universal. Let mc, as the head of the 
 Church, impersonate St. Peter's,the models of tem- 
 ples, ■with an alter where, in every tongue under 
 heaven a man can confess his sins, and find the in- 
 tervention of a priest who will talk to him in bis 
 own language. Therefore, have 1 sought for wis- 
 dom, whether God sends it in the brain of a French- 
 man, a Russian, an Austrian, or a man from the 
 western world, I greet him as a guest messenger, 
 and I accept the augury," 
 
 The zeal, fidelity, thoroughness — (I want a strong 
 word) — and inveterate resolution, with ■which the 
 Pope's commissioners mastered their business — the 
 readiness and fearfulness with which Pius intro- 
 duced his reforms — their marN'ellous appropriate- 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 407 
 
 ncss (ind prai'ticnbility — the quictncsa with winch 
 they went into operation — and, perhaps, above all, 
 the cheerfulness and cool clearheadedness, the 
 equanimity, and even the liesure with which the 
 Pontiir went on his way, under the mountain load 
 he had to carry ; here we have a fearful glance at 
 what he was then. 
 
 His commissions were quite different things from 
 bodies known by that name in England and 
 America, where it is generally understood that where 
 a measure is referred to a commission, it is sent 
 with all becoming pomp and convenience to obliv- 
 ion, or, if a long and learned report is made, no 
 action is taken on it, except to waste money in 
 printing it in pamphlet form, some months after it 
 has been published in a thousand newspapers. 
 
 Pio Nono's commissioners were working men ; 
 and when they proposed useful reforms they were 
 adopted, and went into excution at once. There 
 was no windy, vapid discussion — no interminable 
 report to be printed and lie over till doomsday ; in 
 a word, there was no humbug; let it be done, and 
 it was done. One such a man, if he could last in a 
 State, is worth more than all the Presidents and 
 Kings. 
 
 The Pope had already encouraged the formation 
 of mining and iron associations, as indispensable 
 aids to the completion of Roman railways, and the 
 introduction of a better state of things in economic 
 regards. Two establishments of this kind were at 
 once set up, and went into vigorous operation — one 
 with a capital of $600,000. They stand on the 
 banks of the rivers Ano and Velini, at Tivoli and 
 Temi. These foundries were entirely supplied by 
 the mineral wealth of Italy, which has been known 
 to be inexhaustible for three thousand years, if not 
 more, dating from the florid period of the Etrurians. 
 They were supplied with the best premises, maga- 
 zines, and habitations for laborers, and with the 
 most improved machinery for manufacturing rail- 
 way iron, and other fabrics and productions called 
 for in plying the levers of this century to pry up a 
 rotten old empire and infuse into it electric life. 
 
 No foreigner accustomed to survey the institu- 
 tions of society, has probably visited Rome for the 
 last fifteen hundred years, without hearing of the 
 Ghetto ; where, since the times of Constantine, 
 those members of the Jewish nation who have re- 
 sided in that city, have been compelled to fix their 
 habitations. And there arc hardly two other moral 
 facts in the history of the world which have e.xcited 
 the surprise of philosophers in every age to such an 
 extent, as that a people who had for two thousand 
 years been the chosen depositaries of heaven, to 
 whom the archieves of the true religion had been 
 confided— a people whose weary millions were led 
 out of a land of slavery under the guidance of a 
 ' pillar of fire by night ' into the chosen land where 
 God himself was to dwell among them by the visi- 
 ble manifestations of his presence, and for whose 
 redemption the Son of God came to suffer and to 
 die — should be finally abandoned of heaven, and 
 driven to the four corners of the earth, to become 
 the by-word of all nations. And that this same 
 pet^ple should bo ground into the dust, and covered 
 with the most unmeasured obliquy by those, who, 
 calling themselves Christians, aspired to rival the 
 severities of a God, whose great attribute of ven- 
 geance they supposed they saw legally written in 
 the appalling destiny of that overwhelmed peo- 
 ple. 
 
 But whatever may have been their interpretation, 
 these facts stand out bold on the surface of history 
 — that no nation has ever stood on so great an emi- 
 nence, or fallen into so deep an abyss. It is 
 equally certain that, with very few exceptions, the 
 great mass of those who have professed the Saviour's 
 name, have, through successive ages, considered 
 themselves doing God's service, by outraging every 
 law of humanity in the treatment of the despised 
 
 race of Jacob. Until recent times, this ferocious 
 sentiment has been proof against even the progress 
 of civilization ; and Rome itself has shown an ex- 
 ample to all her followers of unmeasured cruelty 
 toward the Jews. Few of the Pontiffs have ever 
 extended toward them any of the rights of man, far 
 less any of the charities of religion. 
 
 We have spoken of the Ghetto. This is the dis- 
 trict where the Jews of Rome have always been 
 compelled to live. It was originally raised 'amidst 
 the swamps of the Tiber, at the foot of the Capi- 
 toline Hill, surrounded either by lofty walls or 
 houses, which were not permitted to have even a 
 loop-hole to the exterior. Originally, five massive 
 gates, guarded by halberdiers of the Roman magis- 
 tracy, were opened at sunrise and closed at sunset, 
 to receive back the descendants of Abraham — bees 
 laden With a spoil sweeter to them than honey — 
 that of the persecuting, but outwitted — the insolent 
 but cheated Christian.' And there this solitary, 
 despised people were shut up with all their wrongs 
 — with no passion but the unsleeping thirst for 
 gold, and no hope but for the coming of their de- 
 liverer. 
 
 Although the decencies of modern society had 
 tempered the ferocities of the Popes, yet they still 
 continued to treat the inhabitants of the Ghetto 
 like dogs. Few of the Pontiffs have regarded them 
 with even humane feelings, or traced in the sharp 
 lineaments and keen gray eye of the bearded Jew 
 anything but the crucifier of the Savior. Hitherto 
 they had seen little in the religion of Christians 
 worthy of one, whom the ancient prophets had 
 clothed with those glorious attributes, that were to 
 adorn the son of David. 
 
 This deep blot rested on the Catholic church until 
 Pius IX. became Pontiff. Not many days aftei his 
 coronation, while he was riding, to the surprise of 
 everybody, towards the Ghetto, his carriage was stop- 
 ped by a crowd of people gathered round a man who 
 had fallen ia a fit. 
 
 ' What is it V asked the Pope. 
 
 ' Only a Jew,' was the answer of some Christian 
 standing by. 
 
 And is not a Jew a man and a brother V exclaimed 
 the Pope. ' Make way for us !' and he stepped from 
 his carriage. 
 
 The crowd opened with reverence for their Prince, 
 and he approached tho sufferer. The man was gasp- 
 ing in convulsions on the ground, from which no one 
 would raise him, for he was a Jew. Pius took him in 
 his arms, and, bearing him to his carriage, ordered the 
 coachman to drive to the Jew's house. He stood over 
 him, rendering every assistance till he was completely 
 restored, and left him with his blessing and a present 
 of money. 
 
 This act of humanity, which would hardly be worth 
 mentioning if the world had not grown very bad, in- 
 trodnced a new era in Rome. Both Jews and Chris- 
 tians heard of it with astonishment. For several days 
 nothing else was spoken of in Rome, but the strange 
 fact that Pius IX. had condescended to touch a 
 Jew. 
 
 Not long after this, a deputation of old men, with 
 long grey beards, plain garments, and sad faces, pre- 
 sented themselves at the Quirinal, and requested to be 
 admitted to the presence of the Pope. They were 
 a dcputution of Israelites, who had come from the 
 Ghetto to present to Pius the most magnificent offering 
 he had ever received — an antique golden chalice of 
 great intrinsic value, and of exquisite workmanship. 
 It was believed to have been brought from Judca,and 
 for eighteen hundred years preserved hy the .lews from 
 tho wreck of the holy things of the Temple of Solomon. 
 It had, at all events, for ages been used in the solemn 
 ceremonies of their religious worship, and was conse- 
 quently the most venerable object tho Jew could pre- 
 sent. 
 
 The deputation was announced, and immediately 
 introduced into the presence of tho Pope. Bowing 
 themselves low before him, as neither they nor their 
 
 fathers had ever voluntarily bowed before a Pontiff, 
 they uncovered their sacred offering, and begged him 
 to accept it as a token of their gratitude to him 
 ' who had showed kindness to one of their affectionate 
 brethren.' 
 
 Pius v/as greatly moved by so unexpected and 
 touching a recognition of a deed for which he claimed 
 no sort of merit. 
 
 'I accept your magnificent gift, my children,' he 
 said, ' with pleasure and gratitude; will you tell me 
 how much it is worth '! I do not speak of its value, 
 of course, as a work of art ; for that is inestimable — 
 nor as having been consecrated to the worship of the 
 true God.' 
 
 'It weighs five hundred Roman scudi,' answered 
 the chief of the deputation, who was very likely to 
 know. 
 
 The Pope stepped to the table, and wrote rapidly 
 on the first strip of paper that fell into his hands, 
 ' Good for one thousand scudi — Pius IX.' Handing 
 it to the deputation he said — 
 
 ' Accept in your turn a small pledge of my love for 
 my poor Hebrew children. Divide it among the poor 
 families of the Ghetto in the name of Pio Nono.' 
 
 The deputies wished to decline the gift, magnani- 
 mously offered to quadruple the sum, and distribute it 
 among their poor brethren. But the Pope refused to 
 accept the chalice on any other terms than he had pro- 
 posed. 
 
 The interview was protracted. The most generous 
 and humane sentiments were uttered by the Pontiff, 
 and he indulged in many expressions of kindness and 
 love for the Jewish nation, which had so long been 
 shut out from the light of God's face. When the old 
 men heard these words of tenderness and tears, which 
 had not perhaps for half a century filled their eyes, fell 
 fast on their white beards, and they could not speak 
 their gratitude. They bowed at his feet, and as they 
 left the apartment, their quiet step .ind solemn bear- 
 ing had an air of that oriental veneration men were 
 wont to feel when the angels and prophets of God 
 walked among mankind. 
 
 It is impossible to describe tho scene that was wnt- 
 nessed on their return to Ghetto. The young men and 
 the maidens, and the mothers in Israel, crowded s'- 
 lently around the Rabis ; and the white bearded 
 patriarchs leaned tremblingly upon their si ffs to hear 
 the wondrous words. A feeling of surprise and de- 
 light, that had much in it that was solemn and thought- 
 ful, and distrustful, was manifested by the whole as- 
 sembly. They began to break up in groups,and some, 
 more bold and hopeful, and others, who were tired of 
 looking out of the windows, always, always, always 
 waiting for that mysterious deliverer who never came, 
 began to whisper, softly and fearfully, ' Who knows 
 but it's Pius IX. that we have waited for so long?' 
 And the half uttered reply was ' It may be he.' 
 
 And from day to day that voice of inquiry grew 
 more and more distinct; and the little children laid 
 their dimpled cheeks reverently on tho old men's 
 knees, and looking up hopinglyin their sad faces, asked 
 if, when their deliverer came, he would not do just as 
 Pius IX. did. 
 
 And when the dark-eyed maiden said her evening 
 prayer, and came to those sublime words that have 
 for so many ages sastained the lingering hope of 
 Israel, reminding Jehovah of his lime-allowed promise 
 to send tho deliverer those solemn thoughts that had 
 never before invested a human (orm, called forth the 
 image of the new prince, who had been the first to 
 apeak words of consolation to her afllicted people ! 
 And everywhere his name wa.s uttered with veneration 
 and love by the most neglected and despised son and 
 daughter of the Ghetto. What might not those who 
 profess the Siviour's name (b,> they Catholics or Pro- 
 tostantf) have done for our unhappy world long 
 ago! 
 
 [To be continued.] 
 
 Behind Time, — 'Why is a man who carries f> 
 watch invariably too late in his appointments ■>' ' Be 
 cause he is always 'behind' his time. 
 
408 
 
 IRISH MISCELIANY. 
 
 THE CASTLE OF SVLIVRIA, IN THE SEA OE MAliMUllA. 
 
 THE CASTLE OF SVLIVRIA. 
 
 The landscape above represents accurately a very 
 noted and picturesque Turkish castle situated on 
 the borders of the Sea of Marmora, whose waters 
 are Been spreading away on the right. Nature her- 
 self has here piled up the rocks in such a manner 
 that a handful of men could defend the eminence 
 egainet a strong attacking force, and as the height 
 id not commanded by any in this vicinity, artillery 
 could not be brought to bear against it. But the 
 skill of man has strengthened the position by erect- 
 ing very strong walls and towers, and mounting at 
 every point the heaviest artillery. Contrasting with 
 the square turrets and towers are some pinnacles of 
 those fantastic forms in which oriental tastes de- 
 light. This is particularly the case with the flag 
 etaff tower, which is of a most curious pattern. A 
 group of mounted Turks crossing the bridge, and of 
 peasants following the curving line of the road at 
 the base of the cliff, gives animation to this wild 
 landscape. The Sea of Marmora, on which the cas- 
 tle stands, was anciently called Propontis, and is 
 situated between Europe and Asia, communicating 
 ■with the Grecian Archipelago by the strait of the 
 Dardanelles, and with the Black Sea by the Bos- 
 pharus. Its extreme length is over 160 miles, and 
 Us greatest breadth nearly fifty miles. The sea re- 
 ceives its appellation from Marmora, anciently Pro- 
 conncsus, a small island towards its western e.x- 
 trcutity, long celebrated for its marble quarries, 
 whence its name, Marmor, in the plural Marmora, 
 bein^ tbe Latin name for marble. 
 
 ABSYNTHE. 
 
 A French paper thus diecustes on this fashionable 
 poison, which is so favorite aa appetite provoker 
 among the Europeans : — 
 
 China has her opium, the East her haschich, Eng- 
 land her gin. In France we have a poison that is 
 imbued with these poisons, and a powerful stimu- 
 lant that gnivanir.es tlie nerves and also feverishly 
 surcharges the brain ; wc liave absynthe. 
 
 Under pretense of creating an appetite, the present 
 <;eneratlon has commenced drinking this detestable 
 ' liqueur,' which is now as common with us as the 
 pipe and cigar. 
 
 We despise, without sympathising with them, 
 those ignoble brutes who seek, in beastly intoxica- 
 tion, the most abusing pleasures — beings with hag- 
 gard eyes and trembling steps — grog-shop devotees, 
 who diink for the sake of drinking, without earing 
 what they drink. 
 
 We should not so bitterly attack absynthe if its 
 ravages had been confined to that class of drinkers. 
 Unhappily, the fanatics of the 'green lexueur' are 
 to be found in another class of society more noble 
 and intelligent. Artists, and especially literary 
 men have, in but few years past, become addicted 
 to its .use and abuse in a lamentable degree. Almost 
 all seek from it a fictitous fever, and the inspiration 
 that is leaving them, without thinking that the 
 next day and the next, to obtain the same effect, 
 they must indulge in a still stronger dose, and that 
 in accustoming themselves to this facile excitement, 
 which comes when called for, they dull their intel- 
 lect and destroy their health. 
 
 The effects of this poison are terribly crushing. 
 A feverish ccstacy, full of delicious dreams of in- 
 spiration, is followed by an overwhelming debility, 
 a continual state of somnolency. The eyes become 
 dull and the hands tremble. No work can be done 
 unless preceded by a dram of absynthe. Beneath 
 these ceaseless attacks reason reels, and a fatal day 
 comes when the drinker finds drukenness.and never 
 again finds 'inspiration.' Then he is lost beyond 
 hope of recovery. What was a necessary prelude 
 to his labors, becomes a degrading passion, i, daily 
 indulgence which he has not the courage to aban- 
 don. The poet is dead within him, and the drunk- 
 ard alone remains. 
 
 Like opium, absynthe has its fanatics and its vic- 
 tims — unhappy victims, whom we cannot refrain 
 from pitying — noble minds drowned iu this dark 
 and sickening liquid. 
 
 We have seen them pass by with despairing 
 glance and trembling steps, the shadows of their 
 former selves, still unconscious of their misfor- 
 tune. Gerard de Nerval, the charming writer, 
 the delightful novelist, sought in absyntlie brighter 
 faces, and more glowing imagininas. Alfred dc 
 Musset, a great poet, wounded to the heart, sought 
 in this terrible poison forgctfulness of his mysteri- 
 ous sorrow. Gererd de Nerval hung himself in the 
 window of a miserable den. Alfred de Musset, 
 after ten years forgetfulness of his genius, died 
 without being able to utter, at his last hour, a 
 song as sublime as those he sung in his bright 
 youth. 
 
 SERVIA. 
 
 Servia is one of several states that nestle in the 
 mountains between the Danube and the Darda- 
 nelles. It adjoins Hungary, and is separated from 
 Wallaehia by the Dai.ube only. Its annals are full 
 of incident; and, although it is not associated in 
 history with Macedonia, one of its neighbors, it has 
 in modern times attracted considerable notice, 
 owing to its desire for independence, and its many 
 revolutions. It was one of the last places that sub- 
 mitted to Turkey, and it was one of the earliest that 
 revolted against the Moslem rule. The sympathy 
 of Hungary, and Austria, and Russia, has hitherto, 
 however, not been sufficient to give it entire inde- 
 pendence of the Porte, for, although practically in- 
 dependent, it ones homage to the .Sultan. The 
 Servians are a restless, but brave and industrious 
 people. They have high aspirations of political 
 liberty, and a tine appreciation of greatness in other 
 countries. Mr. Paget, when travelling through the 
 country, stopped at a hostelry, and, in conversa- 
 tion, related to the inmates that Wellington, Napo- 
 leon, and O'Connell, were all born on the same day. 
 The observation of the Servian was at once domes- 
 tic and poetical, for he said, ' On that day Nature 
 had her sleeves tucked up.' 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 400 
 
 iRiSH MISCELLANY. 
 
 TIIOM.V8 O NEILL , 
 
 PUBLISHEH AND PROPRIETOR. 
 
 BOSTON, SATURDAY, FEBRUARY 6, 1859. 
 
 A NEW PAPER. 
 
 This, the 52d number, closes the first year, the 
 second volume, and the existence of the Irish Mis- 
 cellany. In making this somewhat sudden and 
 unexpected announcement, we do not deem the 
 cause as of sufficient importance to make mention 
 here. T'hat the Miscellany was ushered before the 
 public under circumstances such as perhaps no il- 
 lustrated paper ever was before, nor do we think will 
 ever be again, — at a time when all was depression 
 and distrust,' — and without either means or ability, 
 it is, perhaps, unnecessary for us now to state, as 
 all the circumstances are pretty well known. And 
 we trust our readers will not accuse us of an un- 
 necessary display of either egotism or traggardism 
 when we state that the Irish Miscellany must have 
 necessarily ceased to e.xist after the publication of 
 the third number had it not been for the pecuniary 
 support 80 timely extended to it by — its friends ; 
 and, had it unfortunately been thus, — and we want 
 to be distinctly understood as not imputing ill- 
 motives to any one, — those subscribers who had so 
 generously paid their subscriptions must, of neces- 
 sity, hare been the losers. Theie are very few, 
 indeed, who have the remotest idea of the necessary 
 expenses of publishing an illustrated paper. But 
 we had then, as well as now, confidence in the suc- 
 cess of a paper conducted in the manner originally 
 designed that the Miscellany should be. We knew 
 that if, in connection with its literary and pictorial 
 departments, it expounded the great and glorious 
 principles of Irish nationality, knowing neither 
 North nor South, it must inevitably receive 
 the hearty support of every true Irishjlan. And 
 should any paper succeed that dare do otherwise in 
 this enlightened 19th century ? No ! the time is gone 
 by when a sectarian press could wield a sufficient 
 influence over the minds of the Irish people to 
 callous and make them indifferent to their truest 
 and dearest interests — those times, and the divi- 
 sions consequently produced by the promulgation 
 of such benighted doctrines, are fast sinking into 
 the deepest and remotest recesses of oblivion, never 
 again to infect a pure atmosphere with their hideous 
 and sacrilegious bowlings. But we are uncon- 
 sciously digressing from our subject. 
 
 Had the Miscellany, even when it was found fully 
 able to maintain itself, been conducted with more 
 business tact and promptness, and had less un- 
 necessary promises been made, we think it is neither 
 predicting or assuming too much to say that 
 this paper would now occupy a position un- 
 surpassed by that of any other Irish paper published 
 on the continent of America. The field cutout for it 
 was new and unoccupied, and although other papers 
 have at various times tried unsujcessfuUy to enter 
 that field, they have not injured, but merely served 
 it. 
 
 When we became proprietor of the paper, and 
 fully understood the true state of affairs, the only 
 thing which then prevented us from starting a new 
 paper was a due regard for those subscribers who 
 had paid their yearly subscriptions. 
 
 The Miscellany's successor will be launched be- 
 fore the public on the regular publication day of 
 the Miscellany — for their approval or disapproval. 
 The support given to that paper warrant us in an- 
 ticipating for the new one unprecedented success, 
 as we will publish a pictorirlal which cannot but be 
 welcomed and esteemed by the Irish people. 
 
 The new paper will trayel much in the «ume path 
 originally designed for the Miscellany ; and ive confi- 
 dently rely on the merits of the paper itself for that 
 
 support which none but the meritorious should 
 ever receive. 
 
 We have engaged some of the ablest and most 
 respected of the Irish writers to furnish contribu- 
 tions, all of which will be duly announced. We 
 have also engaged some of the best artists in the 
 country, us will be perceived by the pictorial em- 
 bellishments which will adorn the new paper. 
 
 Those subscribers who have lately entered their 
 names on the subscription books of the Miscellany 
 will be served with its successor for the periods 
 specified. 
 
 With the debts incurred for the Miscellany since 
 our connection with it, if any remain, lilke Andrew 
 Jackson, 'we will take the responsibility,' and it 
 necessary follows that we should, have a sincere 
 desire that those indebted to us should, in common 
 parlance, ' fork over.' 
 
 HENRY GILES ON DANIEL O'CONNELL. 
 
 A noble theme, nobly treated by one of nature's 
 noblemen, was the lecture of Henry Giles, Esq., 
 before the Young Catholic's Friends' Society on 
 Thursday evening, January 27th. We have never 
 heard a better discourse ; and of Mr. Giles's many 
 gifted efforts, this surpassed them all. He treated 
 it evidently con amore, occupyingnearly two hours 
 iu the delivery. Newspaper reference to splendid 
 performances is not calculated to enhance their 
 worth, and in our limited space we can only just 
 allude to the multitudinous topics discussed. The 
 life, labors, and character of his illustrious sub- 
 ject were portrayed under three heads : — 
 
 Daniel O'Connell was born at Derrynane, near Cahir- 
 civcen, County Kerry, August 6, 1775. At Eeddington, 
 County Cork, he was fitted tor college, at the school of the 
 Key. Mr. Harrington— the first public seminary after the 
 repeal of the penal laws against Catholic education. He 
 was at the age of 15 sent to St. Omer's, France, thence to 
 the Douai College, but returned to the former, and remain- 
 ed there until the college was dispersed by the Freuch Revo- 
 lution. 
 
 The learned professions being now accessible to Catholics, 
 younj ' Dan ' began to study law, aud in 1798 was admitted 
 to the bar. Almost immediately afterward lie entered the 
 political arena, and soon became the champion of Irish na- 
 tionality—his maiden speech having been made in 1800 
 against the accursed Union. In 1802, he married his cousin 
 Mary O'Connell, and enjoyed for 34 years almost perfect 
 domestic bliss. For one who had neither wealth nor title 
 to recommend him, this great commoner rose very rapidly 
 in his prolession. His first year's earnings were only ±'68 ; 
 the second, £160; the third, £300; and the last, though he 
 missed one term thereof, fSWOO! Besides his regular du- 
 ties, he labored persistently and vigorousiy for 25 years in 
 the cause ol emancipation. He evaded the ban of the im- 
 perial parliament by changing,when the exigency required, 
 the name of the organization. In 1804, it was the Catholic 
 Board; in 18u8, the Catholic Committee; in 1823, the 
 Catholic Association. A just tribute was here paid to 
 the invaluable services Kichard Lalor Shiel reudereo the 
 cause of his oppressed countrymen. Catholic emancipation 
 having been inellcct secured, O'Connell was, iu 1828, elect- 
 ed a member ot i'arliameut from the County Clare, aud 
 continued until Lis death a member of the House ol Com- 
 mons. Iu 1842, the prosecution of the repeal agitator re- 
 sulted in his impiisonmeut lor three months, the iniquity of 
 which Lord Deuham.as Lord High Chauoellor, pronounced 
 'a mockery, a delusion, aud a euare;' but the Liberator's 
 prestige had theuceforth departed. Iu 1847, he went to the 
 Continent, aud died ut Genoa on the 16th of May, iu that 
 year, his heart, according to his owu request, being depos- 
 ited iu Home, aud his body in beloved fatherland. 
 
 Mr. Ciles here noticed the coiucidonce of Sir Kobert I'eel, 
 who, as the only iocmun worthy of O'Couuell's steel, had 
 long been that great man's adversary, dying in the same 
 year; and this leads us to revert to uu earlier iieiiod in the 
 Liberator's career. Speakiug ouce disre^iccllully of the 
 Corporatiou of Dublin, he hud to meet one ot its iiiemhers, 
 D'Estcrro, who tell in a duel at the haude of CConnell. 
 Ihis was a Kubject of regret to that great religious uian up 
 to the period of his death. At the same time he accepted an 
 other challenge from the then plain Mr. I'e'il.and they had 
 arranged to meet iu Belgium; but the future minister con- 
 trived to get arrested when he had got as far ub Lo..dou, 
 aud he never kept his cngiigeiueul. i he (act of these two 
 eminent men departing ihi,. lite in the same jcar, liiis sug- 
 gested this dijrcesiou from Mr. (Jiles'j remarks: but it 
 serves to demontlrate that there was nothing of tlio • white 
 feather ' m the compositiou ol Daniel U'Counell. He fsared 
 
 no man, aud in the language of the venerable Archbishop 
 Hughes, * alter a brief period Irom the time of his duel 
 with D'Esterre, lie recorded a vow iu heaven that he would 
 never accept a challeege I'ruiu auy one. Many a iioltroou, 
 in his future life, both in the British I'arliament and else- 
 where, took advantage of his vow to insult hira, knowing 
 very well that they were exempt from the retribution which 
 he would otherwise have inllictcd ' 
 
 Had O'Connell lived a generation earlier, it is probable 
 his would have been a monotonous sphere — 
 
 The declaration of American Independence compelled a 
 relaxation of the tetters of Ireland. The penal code had, 
 at the period of his birth, continued for nearly ninety years, 
 and had e,\.erci«ed its baneful and degrading influence on 
 those successive geuerations. It combined, iu it« malignant 
 foldings over every portion of the mind and body of the 
 Catholics, the strong coil of the anaconda with the subtle 
 sting of the scorpion. It denied them rights of property, 
 of domestic order, of education, of religion. It aimed at 
 making them paupers as regarded property, burharians iu 
 reference to science and general education, and either 
 apostates from the Catholic faith or adherents thereto un- 
 der the disadvantages both of paupeiisn and of ignorance, 
 linrke thus sums up its operation 1 * It had,' he observes, 
 ' a vicious perlection. It was a complete system— full of 
 coherence aud consistency; well digested and well disposed 
 in all its parts. It was a machine of wise and elaborate 
 coutrivauce, and as well fitted for the oppression, impover- 
 ishment, and degradation of a people, and the debasement 
 in them of human nature itself, as ever proceeded from the 
 perveited ingenuity of man.' Mr. Giles says this was done 
 by Irishmen, but we should bear in mind they wcra merely 
 the English garrison there. Queen Elizabeth and Oliver 
 Cromwell's treatment of Ireland was mildness itsell iu 
 comparison with the state of things existiug at the time of 
 the treaty of Limerick. The malignity of the Huegenots 
 after the revocation of the edict ol IS'antes spurred on the 
 hellhounds, so that Julien'e tyranny in liome unequalled 
 the houors of the penal code in Ireland. 
 
 Reference was here made to tiwift's ideas of justice to his 
 Catholic countrymen, and to the uprising of Grattau and 
 his followers iu 1781. Due attention was paid to Currau as 
 a lawyer, and to tjrattan as a senator; but O'Connell was 
 the greatest Catholic genius the country had seen since 
 the siege of Limerick. He lound his native land in postea- 
 sion ol an impregnable oligarchy, yet he swept away its 
 ramparts, and secured partial freedom. He was next cou- 
 sidered by the eloquent lecturer, at great length, as an ad- 
 vocate, a legislator, and a popular tribune, and was accord- 
 ed the greatest praise, particularly in the latter capacity, in 
 which he stood peerless. 
 
 Mr. Giles is of opinion that O'Connell outlived his sphere 
 of usefullness, like Charles XH. ot toweden and Napoleon. 
 We esteem our beloved countryman too highly to enter 
 into an eluhorutc discussion with him on.this point; but, 
 whether because we have come outhe stage of action since 
 the passage of the Emancipation act, or whether our ad- 
 miration for the ' man of the people ' blinds us to the truth, 
 we are at all events decidedly ol opiniou that O'Connell did 
 not survive his time. On the contrary, we think, as iu the 
 case of IS'upoleon marshalling his lorces with a power un- 
 equalled on the eve of Waterloo, he appears to us as grand 
 and awful theu and there asou the morning of the battle of 
 Austerlitz; so also does the life of O'Connell loom up to 
 our mind now wheu he called together on Tara's Hill aud 
 elsewhere his countless hosts of sternly resolved men to 
 do or die lOr Erin's right.- as sublimely as wheu knocking at 
 the door of parliament for admission. Singly aud alone, 
 he did more morally than any other man. ' Green may his 
 memory bel' 
 
 Mr. Giles lectured at South Boston on Friday night. On 
 Thursday, the 17th iust., he will again address our citizen 
 on the subject of 'Irish Mcutal aud Moral Character,' We 
 hope measures will immediately be taken to insure him an 
 audience commensurate with his trausceudant qualities as 
 the loremost lecturer of the day. 
 
 CONTENTS OF THE NEW PAPER. 
 
 The lirtt page will be elubelli^hed with a beautiful and 
 lite-like portrait of the celebrated lather Thomas Ma- 
 guire, executed in the moat artistic style. The likeness is 
 tu'Ouounced by all the truest )et produced. The cut will 
 be accuuipauied by a biographical sketch. Ou the tilth 
 t)age will be given a laugtiuble picture representing 
 Father O'Lcury and the Bear; it is uccompaiiicd by a 
 story. On page eight will bo found an illustration of the 
 reception ol Columbus by the t^ueeii aud court on his re- 
 turn to Spain alter di.-.coveriug the continent of America. 
 I he reading matter will be selected with lli« greatest cue, 
 and will consist iu part of Irish stoii-'s, songs, poetry, the 
 very latest intelligence, and a good variety of new aud 
 original matter, the whole going to make up one of the best 
 papers ever laid before the Irish pcop.e. 
 
 We shall pubUsh music once iu the month, at least, in tu- 
 ture. 
 
410 
 
 IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 BONO FOR THE EXILES. 
 
 BT DABBT UOEEOH. 
 
 Air— 'Irish Molly O.' 
 
 I. 
 Oh, list yc to the Joyftil news that's waT.ed o'er the «e«, 
 There', life in Holy Irelnud Hill, ond love of Liberty; 
 Uerpnre iind glorious old rebel blood fust ruDhes thro' her 
 
 The I'liininc graves left more than slaves upon her fertile 
 plains. 
 
 II. 
 
 The bloodstained English pirates, who bann'd her altars 
 pure 
 
 And robbed her shrines and tcmplex, she never oan en- 
 dure; 
 
 Our peerless queen, that island green, whoso rights they've 
 trodden o'er, 
 
 Itencwstho strife for land, for life, and liberty once more. 
 
 III. 
 AH you who by that ruthless power were torn from her 
 
 breaht, 
 Expelled to pine in lone exile, as wanderers in the West, 
 Still doomed to toll on foreign 5oil out from her bosom 
 
 ca.-*t, 
 Awake ! prepare to do your share of vengeance for the past. 
 
 Iv. 
 
 For centuries her children's blood unceasingly did flow; 
 With more than Spartan zeal they stood against that bitter 
 
 foe; 
 Her mart) rspurc, iu Freedom's cause, met death without a 
 
 gron II ; 
 The gallant Orr, Fitzgerald brave. Sheers, Emmctt and 
 
 SVolfe Tone. 
 
 Can wo forget their memory, and housands more beside, 
 That have bequeathed to as the cau£e for which they calmly 
 
 died; 
 Transmitted IVom sire to son, we've sworn to wait the 
 
 hoar, 
 To sink proud Albion's perjured throne, and overthrow her 
 
 power. 
 
 vr. 
 
 The gallant Hindoo in the East bas broken from her thrall ; 
 Behold! phe cringes to the nod of that Imperial Ooul,* 
 Whose warlike hosts, in armor clad, are longing for the 
 
 day, 
 To land with fury on her coasts, and sweep her crown 
 
 away. 
 
 VII. 
 Then, brotliers up, the morning sun is rising o'er that 
 
 place, 
 That nursed despite the Saxon throne the fiery Celtic race; 
 The holy rays of freedom's light will beam on her ere 
 
 long, 
 When millions hail the welcome sight, prepare to join the 
 
 throng. 
 
 •fhe Emperor of France. 
 
 Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1858, by 
 Thomas O'Keill, in the District Court of Massachusetts. 
 
 REMINISCEXCES IN THE 
 
 — m THE — 
 
 ENGLISH AND AMERICAN SERVICES. 
 BY THOMAS O'XKILI,. 
 
 PEDICATBD TO CENER.VL JAMES SHIELDS. 
 
 THE USE OF SOLDIERS—HERE AND THERE. 
 
 In England, and most of the monarchical coun- 
 tries of Europe, the soldier is a mere machine, em- 
 ployed and maintained for purposes not altogether 
 for the benefit of the people. By the bkiUful and 
 studied use of this man-machine, the governments 
 crown rulers are enabled to keep their feet upon the 
 necks of their masses, and grind them to the earth. 
 By the use of this machine, which they have, with 
 consumate art, moulded and fashioned for their 
 purposes, the governing class are enabled to main- 
 tain themselves in power — to support the distinction 
 of classes — uphold the bla-sphemy called the 'divine 
 right of King.r," and enforce the necessity of mea- 
 
 suring creeds by bullet measure — tax the food to 
 the starving point, least the people, being too well 
 fed, should iorget themselves — grind labor to the 
 slavery level, and deny education as unsuiied to the 
 laborer, mechanic, or artisan, being dangerous to 
 their ideas of ' law and order ' — that is, to the se- 
 curity of ' crowned pates." 
 
 The tcndeney of monarchical institutions, acting 
 upon the soldier, has the virtual effect of depriving 
 him of the high and noble uttributis of a thinking 
 and reflecting being. The ct;lture of those noble 
 faculties of the mind, with which a wise and bene- 
 tieicut Creator has endowed man, to elevate him 
 above the brutes who perish, arc utterly and com- 
 pletely neglected, or, at best, perverted, while the 
 cunning of his bands is trained to the skillful and 
 expert use of deadly weapons which are turned to 
 an account in overawing and keeping down the 
 spirit of the people, who are heavily taxed to sup- 
 port and arm the very power that keeps them in 
 misery and subjection, under the specious pretext 
 of upholding the national honor and dignity of the 
 crown, of which they, the aforesaid ta.xpaycrs, are 
 the honored and benefited subjects, and their na- 
 tion the greatest, freest, best-governed, and most 
 magnanimous upon the face of the globe ! 
 
 The government takes excellent good care that 
 the men selected for the army shall be, in a physi- 
 cal sense, the ablest in the country — preferring 
 those of little mental culture ; and, as to morality, 
 they have a code peculiar in such cases which, if 
 acted up to, is all sufficient. The soldier must be 
 of moral deportment when required for duty. But 
 if vicious and depraved at other times, he becomes 
 the readier tool, and may wallow in drunkenness 
 and depravity when off dtuy. 
 
 To these accursed dynasties the soldiermay fitly 
 be styled the executive of their will. If, after a 
 season of peace and profligate expenditure, the 
 royil exchequer" has become e-xhausted, and the 
 clamors of an ill-fed people for bread warn the 
 wary minister that the limit to popular forbearance 
 has been reached, and that an additional tax dare 
 not be imposed with impunity. It is speedily dis- 
 covered that the 'national honor' requires that the 
 peaceful Chinese, for instance, shall be punished for 
 their audacious contumacy in daring to refuse the 
 poison which the interests of British commeres 
 require them to take. Speedily the human machines 
 aforesaid are put in motion ; the bayonet is brought 
 into requisition, and thousands of unoffending peo- 
 ple sacrificed, and their property appropriated; thus 
 is the royal exchequer replenished. The people are 
 elated by the descriptions which their ' national 
 instructors ' give them of the manner in which their 
 ' national honor' has been vindicated, the 'national 
 glory ' maintained ; and thus is murder and rob- 
 bery made the soldier's calling. 
 
 Is it for a moment to be imagined that, if the 
 soldier was allowed to exercise tte faculty of free 
 thought, and reflect upon the justice of the quarrel 
 in which he is ordered to risk limb and life ; that 
 the mour.tain passes of the Khyher, or the plains of 
 Affghanistan, or the fastnesses of the Tunjaub 
 would at this day be whitened with the bones of 
 so many thousands of the white slaves of royality ? 
 No, the English soldier, trained to do the behests of 
 his superior.^, never reflects upon the justice of 
 the cause for which he fights. lie is the blind and 
 unreasoning tool of the power to which he has sold 
 himself. The efforts made to give a colorable pre- 
 text to the murdering and marauding expeditions 
 upon which he is sent are not to blindfold him, 
 they are to hoodwink the people who maintain him 
 and his masters ; they are to bamboozle and mis- 
 lead the public opinion of mankind. Sometimes 
 these expeditions are to advance the interests of 
 civilization ; sometimes the bloody business is car- 
 ried on in the holy name of religion, the cause of 
 Ciod and humanity, the spread of the gospel, S:c., 
 
 while gain is mostly the cause of all the wars 
 that have cursed mankind since wars began. The 
 soldier's share of the profits is a bloody grave, or.at 
 best, a beggarly pension, embellished with a paltry 
 medal, and, oftentimes, a wooden leg and shattered 
 frame. 
 
 At the conclusion of each fit of slaughter and 
 robbery, general thanksgivings are appointed, and 
 the beneficient prince of peace outraged and insult- 
 ed in temples dedicated to his worship by those al- 
 ledged to be his ministers. The people are dazzled 
 by the pomp and glare of the magnates and big ones 
 of the earth proceeding solemnly to church, or para- 
 ding the streets in dazzling processions, marching to 
 the tunes of 'Rule Brittania,' 'Biitons strike home," 
 ' Old England is the land we love,' ' Britons never 
 shall be slaves." Everybody feels so happy there 
 is no thought of poverty ; taxes, dear bread, low 
 wages, all for the moment are forgotten in the in- 
 toxication of national vanity. 
 
 But shortly the taxes are increased to defray the 
 expenses incurred in the war. The unnatural stim- 
 ulant being withdrawn, trade is stagnated, work be- 
 comes scarce, wages fall, and the price for bread 
 rises, and the people who shouted the loudest but a 
 while ago are now clamoring for a reduction in 
 taxes, and demanding work and bread for them- 
 selves and their little ones, who are all but naked 
 and starving. The government is deaf to their cries ; 
 they become bold, desperate and daring ; the wolf 
 is at the door ; the gnawing vulture is at their 
 vitals. They have the energy of despair, and the 
 ferocity of the hungered brute; but they lack the 
 strength which unity of purpose and disciplined ac- 
 tion gives. The government laughs at their impo- 
 tency, and permits them to go a certain length. It 
 sometimes sends a hireling in the guise of a dema- 
 gogue amongst them, to inflame theiripassions, and 
 then, quoting his harangues, exalts the liberty of 
 speech which the free Briton enjoys. They feel 
 secure, for ready to hand they have their men- 
 machines. The soldiers,having nothing to do abroad, 
 are at length turned out, and, in the name of their 
 gracious sovereign, ordered to shoot down the rebel 
 mob, and slaughter the hungry multitudes. That 
 this is no exaggerated picture, let the records of 
 Peterloo, and the bread riots at Paisley, at Lanca- 
 shire, and other manufacturing districts, attest. 
 
 At lencth the machine becomes worn out. The 
 poor tool is no longer fit for service, either at home 
 or abroad, and he is accordingly laid aside, with a 
 pension of from twelve to twenty cents per day, un- 
 til he at length drops into- the grave. Another is 
 found who quickly follows suit, and no on to the 
 end of the chapter. 
 
 In the United States, service it is otherwise. The 
 soldier is employed to defend honestly purchased 
 territory on our borders from the incursions of the 
 red man, and others, who will not quietly settle 
 down, and share the benefits of peace and extending 
 civilization. He may sometimes be called upon to 
 defend the people's charter, and, in executing the 
 law, keep in bounds the fanatics who woutd, if they 
 could, abrogate the constitution, and set alUaw and 
 order at defiance. 
 
 We should be inclined to doubt the necessity of 
 soldiers at all, under a republic, were it not that 
 there are always, even in the best disposed com- 
 munity, some men who set up sheir own views and 
 opinions as the arbitrary and only rule of right. 
 With these misguided people there are many who 
 ought and do know better, but who are misehiev- 
 osuly disposed anarchists, factionists, and, in their 
 hearts, monarchists. AVhile society is thus sprin- 
 kled over with evil doers and disturbers, the neces- 
 sity for some controlling check must be apparent to 
 evesy well-minded citizen. 
 
 Besides, we have neighbors on our borders, who 
 are ever ready to quarrel on the smallest pretext, 
 and who can Kcver be successfully reasoned with 
 
 J 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 411 
 
 except through the mouth of the cannon, and who 
 can never be induced to acknowledge our rights ex- 
 cept through fear of a sound drul)bing. 
 
 Our Anglo Saxon cousins, the Spaniards, and 
 lately the French — through their pious Bmperor — 
 seemed disposed to wish us ill. And thug.all these 
 put together, if, indeed, any one be not a sulfieient 
 cause for America to keep up the nucleus of a 
 national army, which our standing army is no 
 more. 
 
 Almost all the governments of Europe hate' and 
 envy while they dread the influence of this republic. 
 Since its successful establishment, their subjects 
 eeem to have become, on more than one occasion, 
 restless and uneasy. The orthodoxy of the 'divine 
 right of Kings ' has been openly and very generally 
 questioned; so much so, that we hear, sometimes, in 
 the very heart of Europe, of such things as 'citizen 
 Kings,' and Emperors have not disdained to acknow- 
 ledge their elevation to 'universal suffrage,' such as 
 it was. And, indeed, we have of late read of a King 
 by divine right, running away at the sound of the 
 popular voice, and, in his haste, leaving his crown 
 behind him. All these things have been attributed, 
 and rightly so, to the influence which the existence 
 and success of this republic exerts upon the popu- 
 lar mind in Em ope — particularly those who are 
 compelled to keep up immense establishments of 
 army and navy,to overawe and check the growth of 
 the principles of our government amongst their 
 subjects ; in a word, to crush the rights of man. 
 
 The American soldier can, after, a few years' ser- 
 vice, return to his home, and resume his former oc- 
 cupation, or choose a new mode of life, as best suits 
 his purse or purpose. He can engage in trade, 
 manufacture, agriculture, law, physic, divinity, 
 or politics ; but, above all, he can exercise the 
 rights of a freeman — he is a citizen ! 
 
 On retireing from the service, if he has been 
 frugal, he can command quite a respectable amount 
 of cash to start in business ; or should he desire, at 
 the term of his service, to remain in the army, his 
 pay is increased. At the time I am now writing 
 (1S59), he can savj more money than the mechanic 
 or artizan of ' happy old England.' Add to this 
 the privilege conferred upon the American soldier 
 by a recent act of Congress, which enacts that non- 
 commissioned officers shall be entitled to rise in 
 command according as their conduct and qualifica- 
 tions fit them for promotion. 
 
 This is as it should be. The soldier should have 
 the same opportunities in his profession as men in 
 other positions in life have ; and it is the only true 
 way of making the service desirable, and the army 
 efficient and reliable. 
 
 This wise action of Congress must not be clogged 
 by the old fogy resolutions thrown around it, or- 
 daining silly and useless examinations upon scien- 
 tific qualifications, which, if strictly adhered to, 
 will make this noble act of Congyess a nullity. It 
 would be as sensible to insist that the man recom- 
 mended for bravery and good conduct should be 
 learned in theology, and a practical surgeon, be- 
 cause he might be required to exercise his surgical 
 
 the newly mndo citizen shall bo allowed to exerciso 
 the elective franchise. It seems to me that this part 
 of his Excclhincy's messnge is entitled to some notice, 
 for certainly no part of it can be of more impoitancc, 
 and wliilo, indeed, recommendations of reform and 
 retrenchment arc well enough, and proper enough to 
 be discussed and approved, yet, when a bold stioko 
 like that proposed by the Governor is to be made, 
 some opposing voice should bo found, some arm be 
 upraised, if happily the blow may bo averted. There 
 was a time when such an idea would not have found 
 lodgment in the brain of N. P. Banks, or if it had, he 
 would not have dared to give it utterance, for, if 1 mis- 
 take not, the race and the men whom he now seeks to 
 deprive of a privilege dear to every freeman, were the 
 first to extend to him the hand of friendship, to en- 
 courage and support him in his efforts to rise from an 
 humble sphere, and to their suffrages ho owes whatever 
 of political fame he now enjoys ; as a Democrat he 
 was first elected to our State Legislature, tlien to the 
 National Congress, and the Convention to form a Con- 
 stitution for the State, and in seeking these various po- 
 sitions he had the firm support of Irishmen ; yet we 
 now find him in the foremost ranks of the fanatics who 
 seek to stigmatize as unreliable and untrustworthy the 
 people who have been found in the hour of our coun- 
 try's peril ' faithful amid the faithless.' On one ac- 
 count, I am glad that N. P. Banks has made 
 this memorable suggestion — for it certainly will 
 be remembered. We now fully know the charac- 
 ter of that object warmed to Ufe in our bosoms, 
 and he has succeeded in damning himself politically 
 outside the confines of this State, for the man who 
 seeks to degrade a people can never secure for himself 
 their confidence and esteem, and as Governor Banks is 
 supposed to have Presidential aspirations, and the 
 real backbone of the Kepublican party in the middle 
 and Western States is found in the support it receives 
 from Continental Europeans, the gentleman in ques- 
 tion may as well hang up his fiddle — I do not mean 
 the one he carried in his days of innocence, when the 
 apprentice boy was the sole musician for the neighbor- 
 ing dancing schools. 
 
 The ungracious and ungrateful slanderer of his 
 benefactors has dug the pit into which he himself shall 
 fall. 
 
 Now, it appears pla'in that some step should be 
 taken to counteract the evil about to be committed, 
 for it cannot be denied that this movement originated 
 with the enemies of Democracy and the Irish race, 
 and this is only too apparent when we consider the 
 source from whence it sprung. That the deed will be 
 consummated, who can doubt? That the people will 
 ratify it is beyond question. Then it is part of the 
 State Constitution, and must remain in full force and 
 vigor, until better times shall dawn upon the Com- 
 monwealth, and wiser counsels prevail. Let it, then, 
 be the duty of every man to see to it that he has this 
 right secured for himself ere it is too late. Let every 
 man who knows of a person entitled to citizenship, 
 but who has neglected to secure this right, urge him to 
 obtain it. The necessity is urgent, and it is pressing, 
 and the experience of past years tolls us only too forci- 
 bly the danger of procrastination. Let clubs bo form- 
 ed, naturalization societies organized, and every effort 
 
 For tlio Irish Miscellany. 
 A SHORT ESSAY ON POPULAR SOVEREIONTY. 
 
 DT P. K. O. 
 
 Popular Sovereignty is a principle' based upon the 
 constitution of man. He who denies it is a mon- 
 archist. 
 
 As the Creator did not place a king over Adam, it 
 may bo reasonably deduced that man was intended to 
 govern himself. Nay, as political government is a 
 necessary element in our social existence, this conclu- 
 sion is irresistable. This idea that the pcopb are the 
 only source of political power upon earth is tlie best 
 friend of republics, and the most inveterate enemy of 
 kings everywhere. 
 
 The principle of popular sovereignty destroys one 
 thing and establishes another. It destroys the absolute 
 right of any man to rule his fellow men without their 
 consent, and establishes, in theory at least, the un- 
 qualified political equality ot all men. If acted upon 
 in the United States, slavery would melt before it like 
 a snow flake in a furnace. But, then, there is the 
 Constitution. 
 
 If Popular Sovereignty was scouted in a country 
 where royal cobwebs dimmed the visual organs of the 
 people, there would he nothing marvelous about it. 
 Indeed, nnder such unhappy circumstances, it would 
 be quite natural that the people should do so. But 
 why intelligent men, professing to be republicans, 
 should deny the valiJity of this principle of political 
 action, I cannot comprehend. Yet Sumner, Wilson, 
 Seward, and others, even in our Senate, do so without 
 hesitation, and are decked with laurel for so doing. 
 How long will the people suffer this ? I do not like 
 the cruelty of the leaders of the French Kcvolulion, 
 but it seems to me that every republican must admire 
 the vigor of their adherence to and love for this politi- 
 cal canon. It makes sporting toys of thrones and 
 other trappings. 
 
 The Hindoos are struggling for this principle at the 
 present time, and they have the sympathy of the Irish 
 people. Ye who think it strange that the Irish in 
 America sympathize with the Sepoys, and not with 
 the English, will be considerate enough to bear the 
 reason why they do so in your minds. It may give 
 you much ease. 
 
 The Irish people believe firmly in the political 
 equality of mankind, and are, by virtue of their own 
 conviclions, forever committed to the doctrine of 
 Popular Sovereignty. For this Ireland has struggled 
 and fought, and now rebels ! For this Tone and Em - 
 met have made willing sacrifices of themselves ; and 
 to this the Irish in America are devoted. 
 
 The Irish people have a deep interest in spreading 
 this pohtical theory ia America. Ideas are very con- 
 tagious. When the skies of Columbia become fully 
 charged with this political electricity, that Atlantic 
 cable may serve to convey a current which will shock 
 England. Let us spread it ! 
 
 dying comrade. 
 
 , .,, ,,,,.,, , , , used to prevent, as far as possible, the end sought to 
 
 skill upon the battle held, or preach the gospel to a u„ „u.„- . k .u <■ .• i i.- . i , < 
 
 J . ^ ' r b f '"'• I be obtained by the fanatical bigots who seek to elevate 
 
 the black race by depressing the white. There are 
 
 now in our State thousands of men who, had they 
 
 been wise, would have been in full possession of 
 
 all the citizen's privileges ; but they delayed from time 
 
 to time, until It was too late, and the 1st of Jlay 
 
 found them disfranchised. And if those who now can 
 
 secure this privilege of voting do not make the effort 
 
 immediately, they may find themselves cut off from it 
 
 likewise. The people owe it to themselves to oppose 
 
 this movement hy all proper means, and a sense of 
 
 manhood should lead them to seek to bafllc tlie various 
 
 schemes brought to bear against them. Therefore. let 
 
 every man who c»n, secure his final papers at once. 
 
 W. W. D. 
 
 Somh Boston, Jati. 31. 
 
 1HE GOVERNOR'S MESSAGE. 
 
 Editor of the Irish Miscellany : — 
 
 Sir — The message recently presented to the General 
 Court by the Governor of this State contains mnch 
 that is worthy of commendation, and for those parti- 
 cular portions due praise has been awarded ; but I 
 have yet to see the first word in allusion to tliat por- 
 tion of his message wherein he recommends the pre- 
 sent Legislature to complete the good work so well 
 begun by the Legislature of 1858 — that is, the pro- 
 posed amendment lo the Constitution requiring a resi- 
 dence of two years subsequent to naturalization, before 
 
 The Haytiex Bastile. — Th-; Kevolutionary Com- 
 mittee of Hayti have issued orders for the destruc- 
 tion of terrible dungeons at Fort Labouc. The 
 fort is situated upon an island, and its dungeons, 
 which are mostly used for the incarceration of 
 political prisoners, are below the level of tide at 
 high water. They were closed up a number of 
 years ago, but have within a year or two been re- 
 opened by the Emperor. When prisoners were re- 
 ceived at this fort they were conducted to the 
 dungeons, and were there chained by the head to 
 the floor, with their feet at an angle of forty 
 degrees, and in this situation, exposed to visits of 
 legions of ferocious rats, scorpions, &c., they were 
 left, to itath from the approaching waves. Of late, 
 it is said that the guards at the fort, with a glim- 
 mering of humanity, finished their prisoners with a 
 blow trom the butt end of the musket before plac- 
 ing them in the dungeon. 
 
 It is also related that two persons confined in 
 these duEigeons succeeded in working off their irons, 
 and making tlieir escape. The decree for the de- 
 struction of tins Ilajtien Bastile alludes to the 
 many eminent citizens who have there disappeared, 
 and whose bones the remorseless waves have washed 
 
 upon the opposite shore. 
 
412 
 
 IKISU MISCELLANY. 
 
 SPEECH OF CEN. SHIELDS ON THE DEATH 
 OF MAJOR HARRIS. 
 
 The death of tho laiuinicil Major Hnrris, M. C. 
 from III., seems to have been lolt in boih Uousos njore 
 than tliat of any member, save that of Gen. Quitman, 
 for some years. Among the hpocchea of interest made 
 on the occasion, in that o( our old friend, Gen. James 
 Shielil4, will be found tho honest tribute of one brave 
 man to another. 
 
 Mr. Shield's said : — 
 
 Mr. President — In rising to second these resolutions, 
 1 beg leave to add a few words to the remarks of the 
 honorablo Senator from Illinois. After the eloquent 
 and appropriate observations of that senator, to which 
 we have just listened, it only remains for me to touch 
 bricHy upon some in the life of tho late Thumas L. 
 Harris, which occurred, as it were, under my person.il 
 observation. I was a ciliien of Illinois when the de- 
 ceased became a resident ol that State in 1842. He 
 was a member o( the legal profession, and, as such. 
 Boon succeeded in establishing in his new home an en- 
 viable reputation at the bar fjr diligence, probity and 
 ability. He was a man of clear intclleci, cool courage, 
 and a high s'-nse of honor. In the practice of his pro- 
 fession, in the legislation of his State, on the battle 
 fields of Mexico, or in tho hall of representatives of 
 tlie United States, whenever or wherever duly sum- 
 moned him to act, he obeyed the summons in the spirit 
 of an honest and gallant and highsouled man— a man 
 true to his duty, his conscience, and his country 
 
 In the spring of 1846, the State of Illinois raised 
 and equipped four gallant regiments of volunteers to 
 serve in the war with Mexico. Thomas L. Harris re- 
 ceived the appointment ot major in one of those regi- 
 ments — a regiment which loimcd a part of the first 
 brigade, which I had the honor to command. In the 
 summer of that jear, we sailed for Mexico, and landed 
 at Braros do Santiago. Upon our arrival in that 
 country, to our great regret, we found it necessary to 
 encamp lor the time on the lower Rio Grande to await 
 our supplies. Placed in a low, uuhealthy region of 
 country, this temporary camp proved extremely disas- 
 trous to our nnacclimatud troops. iJisease and death 
 invaded our ranks and made sad havoc among our raw 
 levies. The sound of the mullkd drum, the requium 
 of some lost companion was the doleful music that day 
 by day assailed our ears and smote upon our hearts. It 
 was during this trying period that Thomas L. Harris 
 exhibited those qualities of gentleness and humanity 
 that always accompany true courage in a refined and 
 noble nature. He forgot himself in his devotion lo 
 others. Day and night he traversed the camp from 
 teni to tent, cheering, encouraging, and consoling his 
 suffering companions. 
 
 It was in the discharge of these humane duties, at 
 that time and place, that he contracted the seeds of that 
 disease which undermined his health and strength.and 
 pursued him down to an nntimely grave. Upon the 
 arrival of our supplies, we were able to ascend the 
 river, and select a more hcalihy position ; and here I 
 was appointed to another command, which separated 
 me for a time from that brigade. Early in the spring 
 o( 1837, we came together again at the siege of Vera 
 Cruz. During the pendency of that siege, the deceased 
 acquitted himself with conspicuous courage and gal- 
 lantry. He commanded a select detachment from the 
 brigade, in a general attack upon the enemy's ouiposli, 
 and performed the service with resolution, sagacity and 
 intrepidity. 
 
 Late in the evening of the 17th of April, of the same 
 year, our brigade of New York and Illinois volunteers 
 halted at the foot of Cerra Gordo, to be ready to take 
 an early part in the cxpecied engagement of the next 
 day. On the ground near where we happened to halt 
 lay three pieces of attillcry — a twenty-four pounder 
 and two twenty-four poond howitzers, which the engi- 
 neers haJ brought there, in the hope of having them 
 placed in battery on the summit of an adjoining hill,to 
 be ready to open upon one of the enemy's batteries 
 next morning. 
 
 Night h.-id fallen before the attempt could be made ; 
 and the darkness of the night, and the precipitoas na- 
 
 ture of the ascent made thorn begin to think of aban- 
 doning the undertaking as hopeless and impossible, 
 that had been pu.'.iiively ordered to be done. They 
 manift-Bted the utmost anxiety to try on the twenty- 
 four pounder ; and as it could do no harm to gratify 
 their wishes, I detailed five hundred men, under the 
 command of Major Harris, to make the experiment. 
 The experiuieut was iuade,and, to tho astonishment of 
 us all, proved comjiletely successful. In tho darkness 
 of night that huge cannon was hauled up a rugged ac- 
 clivity, the very sight of which might have deterred 
 them from even making tho attempt, had they been 
 only able to see it in the full light of day. This little 
 battery of three pieces of artillery did effective service 
 in the battle next moiniug. Our historians make men- 
 tion of this as a remarkable feat, and tell us it was 
 performed the night before tho battle j but, in justice 
 to the memory of the dead, I take this occasion to tell 
 the Senate and tho country by whom it was per- 
 formed. 
 
 Early on the morning of the 18th our brigade re- 
 ceived orders to advance across rugged, broken pedri- 
 gal, attack the reserve of tho Mexican army under the 
 immediate command of Santa Anna, and seize the 
 Jalapa road, in ordjir to cut off his retreat to the capi- 
 tal. This movement was executed with rapidity and 
 success. The attack was so sudden and unexpected 
 that Santa Anna had barely time to effect his escape 
 by flying into the adjoining woods, leaving his carriage, 
 baggage, money and plate in the hands of the volun- 
 teers. The surprise was so complete that the whole 
 medical sta6:" of the Mexican army were surrounded 
 and captured in their hospitals before they had the 
 slightest suspicion that our troops were in that vicinity. 
 Throughout this sharp and spirited engagement there 
 was no officer or soldier of that brigade who exhibited 
 more dauntless courage and brilliant intrepidity than 
 the gallant man whose untimely loss we this day de- 
 plore. 
 
 Mi. President, I consider it due to our past rela- 
 tions to refer to these incidents of his life, because they 
 happen to be within my own knowledge. It was like 
 a debt due to the memory of a deceased friend, which 
 the occasion called upon me to discharge. It was a 
 sacred offering which I deemed it is my duty to depose 
 ujntn the tomb of a deceased companion ; and having 
 performed this sad, but sincere and earnest duty, I can- 
 not think it necessary to refer to his public services as 
 a statesman. These are part of the history of the 
 country. They have been handsomely alluded to by 
 his distinguished colleague, the Senator from Illinois. 
 It is sufficient to say that the deceased brought to the 
 conduct of public affairs, on all occasions, the same 
 resolute and noble spirit which he was accustomed to 
 exhibit in the suffering camp or on the field of battle. 
 May his spirit rest in peace ! 
 
 THE CALWAY LINE. 
 
 The difficulties of locomotion are gradually being 
 placed among the things that were, and travelling, 
 whether by land or sea, has become a jileasant recrea- 
 tion. Seldom now d) we hear travellers speak of the 
 dangers through which they have passed, their tales 
 being generally of the comforts they have had while 
 crossing this or that ocean, or marching over this or 
 that continent. 
 
 The Atlautie has been fairly conquered by steam, 
 and although the iron monsters of the deep have 
 brought the Old and New World conijiarativcly close 
 together, we are on both sides continually desiring to 
 he nearer still. The spirit is one which founds new 
 lines of steamships, and calls attention to fresh points 
 of arrival and departure, by which the time of ocean 
 travel may be reduced. In pursuance of this anxiety, 
 an English capitalist, Mr. Lever, cast his eye on the 
 lovely city of Gahvay, in Ireland, on one side, and St. 
 Johns, Newfoundland, on the other. Almost before 
 any one was aware, ships were bought, and, after a 
 few complimentary receptions on both sides, the Gal- 
 way line, as it is familiarly called, took its place as a 
 commercial entcrjirise of some importance. 
 
 The passages made have been average ones, and 
 
 passengers have availed ihemseWes of what was to be 
 a shorter sea voyajte, but which, at present, has not 
 been much curtailed. Tlw com|mnY, now finding that 
 there is a ^reat chance for making money, are doing a 
 wise thing, by ordering three new steamers, whose 
 guaranteed minium speed is to be twenty miles per 
 hour. They are to be side-wheels, yao feet long and 
 .')8 feet beam ; the engines are to bo 2,200 indicated 
 horse power, having three oscillating cylinders, each 
 75 inches in diameter. If they accomplish all that is 
 expected of them, we shall have to thank the Galway 
 line for bringing London within five days of this con- 
 tinent. The mails are carried from London lo King- 
 ston — over three hundred miles — in eleven hours ; 
 thence to Galway in three hours more, and to St. 
 Johns in four or five days at the outside. Wo aro 
 pleased to see that some shipbuilders and owners 
 are thiukiug and acting in a common sense manner. — 
 [Scientific American. 
 
 FOREIGN INTELLIGENCE. 
 
 IltELAMI. 
 
 On page It will be found the latest intelligence 
 concerning the recent arrests. 
 
 Like Uo.vts on the Ikisu Coast. — The National 
 Lifeboat Institution has, during the past week, sent 
 two of its single banked thirty feet life boats to 
 Carnsore near Wexford, and to Tramore near 
 Waterford. Each boat rows six oars single banked. 
 Both are admirably adapted for their respective 
 localities. They are on Peake's design, and were 
 built by Forrest of Limehouse, London. They pos- 
 sess the usual quality of the society's boats — the 
 power of self-righting if upset, and of self-ejecting 
 any water they may ship. The cost of the Carnsore 
 life boat was generously presented to the Institu- 
 tion by a lady whose life was providentially saved 
 last summer from drowning by Mr. H. A. Hamilton 
 of Balbriggan, who has since distinguished himself 
 by his extraordinary gallantry and perseverance in 
 rescuing, with the society's life boat stationed at 
 Skerries, a vessel's crew. A carriage, after the de- 
 sign of the Inspector of life boats to the li.stitutiou, 
 is attached to each life boat, from which they can 
 be easily launched with their crews on board, by 
 the aid of ropes handled by the bystanders on shore, 
 the crews being then enabled to give the boats way 
 through the sea before it has time to beat them back 
 on the beach. The Life Boat Institution is also 
 now building life boats and carriages for Dundalk 
 (the house for which Lord Clermont is liberally 
 causing to be built at his own expense), Kilmore 
 and Dungorvar. The Institution has now life boats 
 and carriages thoroughly equipped and ready for 
 instantaneous service on the Irish coast at the fol- 
 lowing place's : — Greomsport, Newcastle (Dundrum 
 Bay), Skerries, Drogheda, Wicklow, Arklow, Ca- 
 hore, Hossclare, Carnsore, Ardmore, Voughal, Tra- 
 more and Westport. This humane and important 
 work has involved an expenditure of upwards of 
 £4,000, nearly the whole of which has been defray- 
 ed from the funds of the Institution ; indeed it is a 
 fact that the society has been compelled to sell out 
 a considerable portion of its small funded capital, 
 which is so essential to its permanency, to meet 
 this heavy expenditure. The National Life Boat 
 Institution has now upwards of eighty establish- 
 ments on various parts of the coast of the British 
 Isles, under its management, to maintain wh.ch in 
 a state of thorough efficiency requires a large per- 
 manent annual income. We are informed, on credi- 
 ble authority, that, notwithstanding the publicity 
 which the operations of this truly national and 
 philanthrophic institution obtains, it has only been 
 able to pursue its useful course by intrenching, to 
 a very conside»able extent, on its funded capital, 
 which, as we have before observed, is so indispensa- 
 ble to its permanent efficiency. 
 
 The Kev. William Drought, vicar of Gnllen, King's 
 County, received a letter through the Cloghan post- 
 
Trish miscellany. 
 
 413 
 
 office, bearing the Mnllingar postmark, of which tlio 
 following is a copy, vie. ; — ' llr. Drouylil — We write 
 this letter to you lor )-our j»ood. Wo understand that 
 some of your tenants, in honor of you, u;uve up pos- 
 session to you, not for non-payment of rent, but to 
 help you to^broak other titles. Now, sir, give the same 
 back to them ajjaiii, for we assure you we will allow 
 nothing else. We gave Boyle and ClafFey one caution 
 not to have any call to other's land, and let them re- 
 member that if we ever go to them again it will bo the 
 lost. So we warn you to give possession to these 
 men; if you do not recollect the death of Mr. Cage.' 
 It will bo recollected that the Mr. Cage re ferred to was 
 the land agent of Sir St. George Gore, who, when 
 riding from Endrinn to Ferbane, some few years ago, 
 was tired at and shot dead. The deed was witnessed 
 by a large number of persons who suffered the assas- 
 sins to run away unmolested, not the slightest effort 
 having been made to capture them, and they still, as 
 in all such cases in King's County, remain undetected. 
 Doyle and Claffey, the persons to whom reference is 
 »lso made in the letter, were a short time ago attacked 
 in their houses at night by a largo party, who beat 
 Doyle severely, and both of them were promised 
 another visit unless they gave up the land which they 
 had taken from the Rev. Mr. Drought. The land re- 
 ferred to is only a few acres, which were sub-let out of 
 a very large farm, and was held in small portions by 
 the tenantry on another property, whose interest ceased 
 on the death of Capt. Armstrong, of Ballycumber, 
 and after his demise the Rev. William Draught gave 
 the few acres referred to amongst his own tenantry, to 
 whose farms it lay contingent. — [Meath People. 
 
 Apfectixg Termination of a Christmas Party. 
 On Monday evening Mr. Keed, the coroner for 
 South Northumberland, held an inquest at Tyne- 
 mouth, upon the body of the infant child of M. 
 Robson, draper, of New-castle-on-Tyne, who was 
 accidently suffocated on the evening of Christmas 
 Day, under very distressing circumstances. It seems 
 that Mr. and Mrs. Kobson had brought their family 
 down to Tynemouth on Christmas Day to visit Mrs. 
 Gibson, the children's grandmother. In the eve- 
 ning it was intended to give a juvenile party, and 
 have an exhibition of the magic lantern. The two 
 youngest children of the Robson family were twins, 
 about nine months old. One of them that was be- 
 ing nursed during the afternoon by a domestic had 
 fallen asleep, and a turn-up bed was down in the 
 parlor in which she placed it. The other baby was 
 nursed at the same time by its father. The child 
 that had been laid in the bed by the nurse awcke a 
 short time after, and she took it out again, and the 
 baby that was being nursed by the father having 
 fallen asleep, he placed it in the bed. Mrs. Gibson 
 having seen one child taken out of the bed, and 
 supposing the father had taken the other twin out 
 with him, put the bed up. Some short time after 
 Mrs. Kobson asked about the children, and Mrs. 
 Gibson replied that Mr. Robson had one, and the 
 girl was nursing the other ; but Mr. Robson com- 
 ing in shortly without it, and stating that he had 
 laid it down in the bed before he went out, it flash- 
 ed across the mind of the grandmother that she 
 must have accidentally put it up with the bed, and 
 upon taking the bed down, the child was found, 
 but dead. The poor grandmother, a kind and af- 
 fectionate old lady, is nearly distracted about this 
 untoward occurrence. The jury returned a verdict 
 of accidental death. 
 
 The Vacant Professobship in Galway Col- 
 LGOE. — Mr. Morris has declined accepting the pro- 
 fessorship of Law of Galway College, offered to him 
 in so kind a manner by his E.\cellency the Lord 
 Lieutenant. The duties of the office would seri- 
 ously interfere with the learned gentleman's profes- 
 sional avocations, and the course he has pursued in 
 at once placing the appointment in the hands of the 
 executive is, in our opinion, a wise and proper 
 one. — [Mail. 
 
 Believing )\B we do that Tenant Right is tlu; great 
 qtipstion for Ireland, upon the settlement of which 
 depends her peace and pro,sperity, we shall never be 
 tired of bringing it before the public, till success 
 crowns our efforts. Beginning the new year we 
 shall labor still more zealously in this cause, be- 
 lieving it to be right and just in itself and indispen- 
 sable to the prosperity of the country. The Times 
 is growling on this subject every week at present — 
 an unmistakeublo proof of its progress. Sharman 
 Crawford's recent letter raised the howl, and Col- 
 onel Greville's temperate statement on the subject 
 has provoked a second ; but let no one mistake it. 
 The more the Times strives to crush this cry for 
 justice, the more potent is it becoming. We may 
 always estimate the progress of the people's cause 
 in this country by the abuse it receives from its 
 enemies, — [Kilkenny Journal. 
 
 Sometime during the night of Christmas Day a 
 notice, of which the following is a copy, was posted 
 on one of the most conspicuous corners of the town 
 of Killarney. It was written in rude, but bold 
 characters, in imitation of print: — ' Notice — Coun- 
 trymen, beware of English bribery, for it was that 
 that conquered Napoleon. We hereby offer one 
 hundred pounds reward for an informer's head." 
 The document, which was firmly pasted on the 
 wall, was read by a large crowd, and could only be 
 removed in pieces by the constabulary. A strong 
 feeling of jealousy exists among the local magis- 
 tvaey at not being consulted or conferred with on 
 the subject of the late arrests. A private meeting 
 of their body was held at the workhouse. The re- 
 sult of their deliberations had not transpired, but it 
 has gone abroad that some of them were so dis- 
 pleased as to threaten the resignation of their com- 
 missions of the peace. The statement was found to 
 be perfectly correct. 
 
 Diminution of Crime. — In contrast with the ex- 
 aggerated ideas of the state of Ireland, which pre- 
 vail in the sister country, we may mention one fact. 
 The Killarney Sessions were yesterday opened by 
 Mr. Coppinger, the new assistant Barrister for the 
 county of Kerry, when the whole business of the 
 grand jury was found to consist of two bills of in- 
 dictment arrising out of one occurrence. Of these 
 two, one, for riot, was ignored, and the other, for 
 common assault, found. Considering that the ses- 
 sions for the district take place but once a year, we 
 should think this was not a very terrible criminal 
 calender, nor can the people of the district be the 
 lawless, truculent savages they are graphically des- 
 cribed in English writings. — [Cork E.xaminer. 
 
 Cork and Youghal Railway. — We have learned 
 with much satisfaction that the works for complet- 
 ing the line of railway between this city and Yough- 
 al are about to be immediately commenced, and 
 they will be proceeded with till the undertaking is 
 finished. This must confer very great advantages 
 on the extensive and important district to the east 
 of the city through which the railway will pass.and 
 the branch to Queenstown must give further impe- 
 tus to the trade and progress of this locality. — 
 [Cork Reporter. 
 
 ONE WEEK LATER^ FROM EUROPE. 
 
 Haliax, Jan. 28— The Canard steamship Arabia, 
 from Liverpool 3.30 P. M., of 15th inst., arrived at 
 this port this morning. 
 
 Steamer I'ropellor, of the Galway line, had run 
 ashore in Galway harbor, and the tide flowed in and 
 out of her. It ia feared she cannot be got oft'. She 
 has on board part of the cargo intended for the Circas- 
 sian. 
 
 The Circassian left G;ilway for St. Johns, N. F., on 
 the morning of the 1 1 ih. She was detained, owing lo 
 her running aground when leaving Queenstown for 
 Galway. 
 
 Matters wore aggravated by the speech of the King 
 
 of Sardinia nt the opening of the Chambers, which was 
 constrncted into a warlike sense. The king says the 
 political horizon is not clear, but the future must be 
 awaited with firmness. The future cannot fail to be 
 fortunate, because the policy of Piedmont is based on 
 justice and love of its country's liberty. Piedmont is 
 small, but great in the councils of Europe, on account 
 of the principles it represcnis and the sympathies it in- 
 spires. It respects treaties, and is not in3cn3it>le to 
 Italy's cry of anguish. The king concludes with these 
 words : — 'Let us resolutely await the decrees of Pro- 
 vidence.' Prolonged acclamations followed the con- 
 clusion of the speech. 
 
 The King of Naples has granted an amnesty to sixty- 
 one political prisoners, including Poerio, Zeielbrind, 
 and company. Other concessions were expected. 
 
 The French Legislature is convoked for February 7. 
 
 It is rumored that the British government intended 
 to augment the Channel squadron by twelve sail of the 
 line. 
 
 IRELAND. 
 
 The Crown prosecution at Dublin, against John 
 Francis Nugent, for publishing a seditious and scan- 
 dalous almanac, resulted in Nugent being bound ia 
 .£500, with two securities of £50 each, to keep the 
 peace — that is, to suspend the publication of the pro- 
 phetic almanac for seven years. 
 
 The Dublin correspondent of the London Times 
 says: — ' The Crown case against some members of the 
 Poshnix Club is more complete than the public have 
 been led to believe, and is sufficient to satisfy the most 
 hostile jury. The farming classes have stood aloof. 
 The members of the clubs are chiefly shop men, and 
 Mechanics' Clubs were rapidly increasing. It ihere- 
 ffore was necessary some steps should be taken to pat 
 an end to the movement.' 
 
 A man named Delaney, the alleged murderer of Mr. 
 Ely, was arrested on board the steamar Circassian, at 
 Galway, just as she was about to sail for America. 
 
 FRANCE. 
 
 The Paris correspondent of the Times says that 
 Marshals charged with commands in great military 
 districts.and Generals commanding military divisions, 
 who were on leave of absence, have received orders to 
 return to their posts. He also says that Walewski 
 protested energetically against the ominous impression 
 that appears to rule supreme, and it is said was deter- 
 mined on retiring from a scene where moderation ia 
 no longer listened to. 
 
 Among other ananthenticated rumors from Paris 
 are the following: — That orders have been given to 
 prepare over 100 transports — that Gen. BIcMahon is 
 to command the army of Italy— and that 30 000 of the 
 African contingent are to cross over to Italy from the 
 African coast. 
 
 Prince Napoleon left Paris on the 13th for Turin, to 
 espouse the Princess Clotilde, daughter of the King of 
 Sardinia. The impression prevailed that this mar- 
 riage would secure the support of France to assist 
 Victor Emanuel in becoming King of Italy. 
 
 The Paris Prcsse, the organ of Prince Napoleon, 
 continued to indulge in warlike articles. 
 
 The Constitutionnel contains an article on the state 
 of affairs; it admitz serious difficuliies have arisen lie- 
 tween France and Austria concerning the Danube 
 and Scrvia, and says, the marriage of Prince Napo- 
 leon with the Princess of Sardinia will cement ilie 
 alliance between the two nations. Italy is ajjitated, 
 but war is only possible in the event of violation of 
 treaties taking place, or being threatened. 
 
 ITALY. 
 
 Rumors of dissatisfaction in Lombardy continue una- 
 bated. Every morning the police had to ert'ace from 
 the walls of houses such inscriptions as, ' Death to 
 Germans.' The advance guard of the Austrian rein- 
 forcements entered Milen on the lOih. 
 
 The news of the alliance of Prince Napoleon with 
 the Sardinian Princess bad produced great excitement 
 among the Italians, who regarded it as a pledge of the 
 united action of Kiancc and Sardinia in the ali'.iirs of 
 Italy. It was expected that Prince N.ipoleun's pres- 
 ence at Genoa and Turin would lead to domoustm- 
 tioUK of UD uniuiKtakuble character. 
 
414 
 
 IRISH M1SCELLAJ^IY. 
 
 THE 'REBELLION' IN IRELAND 
 "The Sechet Invkstioation at Uklfast has 
 ended by the commiiul of nil. tho prisoners, save 
 two, who have turned approvers. Tho investigation 
 was cuniliicicd .secretly iu the coanty jiiil. Mr. Run, 
 counsel lor the prisoners, protested uj;uinst tho incjuiry 
 being carried on privately within the walls of the jtiil, 
 and proceeded at some length lo denounce nil secret 
 inquiries as being unconstitutionul and in indirect op- 
 position to the spirit of the luws of the kingdom. 
 He would have expected to hear of such a course 
 being pursued in Spain, Naples, or other contintental 
 nations, but it was more than he expected in this 
 country. Alter commcniing for some time on this 
 point, ho stated that be would not remain at any secret 
 in(|uiry in the jnil, nor take any part in it, and liauded 
 ill a written protest againt the whole proceedings. Uo 
 then addressed the prisoners, giving them advice as to 
 how they shonld act, and then left the jail. 
 
 The inquiry was then commenced. The first wit- 
 nesses examined were two of the prisoners — Hugh 
 Carlcton and John Kelly. The latter person has two 
 brothers among the prisoners. The two prisoners 
 were under examination for about two hours. It is 
 slated «hat their statements were inculpatory of their 
 fellow prisoners. At the expiration of the examina- 
 tion of Carlcton and Kelly, 
 
 Mr. M'Kay was called and examined at some 
 length. She stated she knew some of the prisoners in 
 the course of their visits to her house. She denied ! 
 that they had ever met, to her knowledge, on the 
 premises for an illegal purpose; and she detailed the 
 fact of the meeting of the prisoners on the 12th of De- 
 cember. They had frequently, one or two together, 
 called in the way of business, at her house; but, till 
 the present proceeding, and till the police assembled 
 on the 12th December, she believed they were only 
 casual customers. 
 
 Head Constable JIadders was next axamined. His 
 evidence altogether referred to the means which had 
 been ndobted for the purpose of making liie arrests, 
 under a warrant issued by Mr. Tracy. It transpired, 
 in the course of his evidence, that no documents of 
 importance had been captured. 
 
 Sub Constable Thompson, of the Crescent Consta- 
 bulary station, was then called, and corroborated the 
 statement made by Mr. Madders. His evidence alto- 
 gether referred to the nature of the arrest. In the 
 coursa of the evidence both of this and the previous 
 wness, no allusion was made to the escaped of Kearns. 
 Mrs. M'Kay 's servant girl was tlicn called for ex- 
 amination, but her evidence was unimportant. She 
 merely repeated the facts which her mistress had pre- 
 viously stated, and assertedi that the prisoners, to her 
 knowledge, had not previously met together in a body 
 on the premises. 
 
 With the examination of this witness, the inquiry 
 terminated about six o'clock. The informer — if there 
 be an informer at all — has not yet been produced. We 
 believe wc arc now in a position to state that the case 
 brought forward by the Crown will rest, iu its leading 
 points, on the evidence which has been given by some 
 of the prisoners themselves. 
 
 A number of friends and relatives of the prisoners 
 remained in the vicinity of the jail during the day, 
 evidently anxious to know the result. 
 
 On the following day (Saturday), the examination 
 of the prisoners was resumed and concluded. After 
 the entire evidence of all the witnesses to be examined 
 had been taken, and the inquiry brought to a close, 
 Mr. Tracv announced to the prisonerE his decision — 
 namely, that fourteen of them should be committed to 
 take their trial at the next assizes, and that bail would 
 not be accepted in their ease. 
 
 ANOTnii:it Arbebt is Belfast.— The Northern 
 Whig says : — 
 
 On Monday night, the public excitement which has 
 been so intensely felt in town, in consequence of the 
 arrests of the 12th of December, was still further in- 
 creased by another capture, made by the constabulary. 
 It appears that the authorities have received pretty 
 extensive information — whether based upon sufiieicnt 
 
 data or not remains to be seen— of the existence of 
 several secret societies in Belfast; and among tho pre- 
 mises [>oiated out as one of Iho places of meeting of a 
 body of this character was the ]>ublic house of a person 
 named Bernard Boyle, situated in Barrack street, and 
 almost imnu'ditttely adjoining tho Belfast Distillery. 
 
 The arrest was nll'ccitd under precisely similar cir- 
 cumstances to those which had previously taken place. 
 Head Constable Madders and Constable Canning were 
 armed with the necessaiy authority, and were directed 
 to walch the premises during the course of the evening. 
 They were attired as civilians, and, in that usually 
 crowded thoroughfare — especially after six o'clock — 
 their presence did not excite the least suspicion. 
 About seven o'clock, they entered the shop; Boyle was 
 present, and he was almost immediately arrested. In 
 the meantime, a body of police, ready for any exigency 
 which might arise, was stationed in Barrack street, 
 while another party was placed in the lane running in 
 front of the Mill-dam. Tho importance of this latter 
 anangemeDt will be seen, when it is stated that the 
 rear of Boyle's premises fronts the dam, and that no 
 party could possibly make their escape while the prem- 
 ises were in this way guarded. The house having 
 been searched by Head Constable bladders, we believe 
 that no documents of any importance were discovered. 
 The police, who were fully armed, and numbered alto- 
 gether about forty men, were then assembled in Bar- 
 rack street, Boyle was brought out, and in the midst 
 of the foice,and attended by an immense crowd, he 
 was taken to the police otlice. Great astonishment 
 appears to be felt over this further capture. 
 
 Aeiiests in the County Kilkenmy. — The Kil- 
 kenny Journal has the following : — 
 
 Last week we announced that no city in Europe 
 could bear comparison with Kilkenny, and what we 
 said of the city was equally true of the county. 
 The assistant berrister congratulated both grand 
 juries on the total absence of crime, and even re- 
 marked humorously, in'a private way that, if things 
 progress in this manner in Kilkenny, there will soon 
 be no necessity for a barrister at all. Before the 
 break of day, on Monday morning, Mr. Coyne, a 
 respectable shopkeeper, was arrested in bed, and 
 removed to the Callan Barracks. Some time after- 
 wards, on the same morning, two men named Kava- 
 nagh and Manning, nailors, were also arrested, and 
 we have good authority for staling that three bettor 
 conducted men could hardly be found in tho tow'n 
 of Callan. 
 
 The little valley of Lismolin, on the road from 
 Mullinahonc to Killenaule, was also disturbed by 
 the tramp of the constabulary, and a young man 
 named Sullivan, the teacher of the National School 
 of the village, was arrested on a similar charge. A 
 great huUaboo will, of course, be made about this 
 business, and we have no doubt that our local Tory 
 contemporary will spin out three or four dreary 
 columns upon tho subject, but the plain facts are 
 these young men were arrested by the police of Cal- 
 lan on Monday morning ; that there was a private 
 i gathering of county magistrates, Lord Desart, Mr. 
 llort, Mr. Poe, and some others in Callan ; that 
 Mr. Lowe, solicitor, applied for admission on be- 
 , half of the prisoners — and was refused ! that there 
 was what is called an ' iuvestigation ;' and that the 
 prisoners were lodged the same evening in the 
 county jaU. These are the simple facts of the ease. 
 A young man, named Ilawe, belonging to Callan, 
 but engaged in the leather trade in Kilkenny, was 
 also arrested ou Monday morning, and this is the 
 fifth of the ' state prisoners ' in our county jail. 
 I The whole affair is such a farce that people here 
 only laugh at it, and wonder how our county magis- 
 : trate's have made so much adc about nothing. It 
 is to be regretted that such a rigmarole has been 
 enacted. People were getting on very quietly, and 
 this proceeding, instead of perpetuating the peace 
 which characterized Kilkenny, will, we fear, only 
 lead to a state of alarm, insecurity and disaffection. 
 Even the ' Koyal Elthornes ' paraded the streets at 
 
 an early hour yesterday morning, headed by their 
 band, for the purpose of 'striking terror," the 'men' 
 tramping with reiljubled ardor, and the big drum 
 sounding its most uproarious note ! But people un- 
 derstand all these things now-a-days. We arc bo 
 nccustomsd to them in Ireland that both their 
 novelty and cfl'eet have passed away. We have 
 been informed on good authority that there is no 
 evidence whatever against the prisoners, and the 
 'informer,' who it, wc believe, undergoing the pro- 
 cess of 'pumping,' is already retracting all his 
 statements. The defence of the prisoners has been 
 entrusted to Mr. Quin.and it could not be in better 
 hands. 
 
 TuE Arrests in- Killarxev. — The Cork Ex- 
 aminer publishes the following, in reference to the 
 additional arrests in Killarncy : — 
 
 Joseph and Daniel Murphy and Patrick Cronin, 
 who were arrested on the 1 1th of December, charged 
 with being members of the Pha'nix Club, and re- 
 leased from Tralee jail on Christinas eve, were again 
 arrested last evening — the Murphys at Aghadoe, 
 and Cronin at Barleyiuount, in the same neighbor- 
 hood. The prisoners were lodged at the police 
 barracks, and left this morning under an escort, it 
 is said, for Dublic Castle. Their removal adds 
 strength to the rumors afloat here — that they had 
 told all the knew — in fact, have peached. Be this 
 as it may, I believe I am safe in saying, Uoula's 
 testimony must be supported, otherwise it is harm- 
 less. Mr. Plorence O'Sullivan, apothecary's as- 
 sistant, remains still in Tralee jail, bail been refused. 
 
 DENNY WYNN. 
 
 Wynn, says Bell's Life, is no longer on the turf, 
 but under it; instead of the violet jacket, with yel- 
 low sleeves, the color of his glory, he assumes the 
 churchyard livery. Those little hands, upon the 
 working of which so many hundreds have depend- 
 ed, handling and dandling the bit — a dazzling sight 
 to see, whether going out easy or coming in bard, 
 as the case might require — are now stretched by 
 the all-powerful hand of death, instead . of being 
 graved with shining leather and armed with lancing 
 steel, all brilliant for the battle. Alas I that tight 
 little saddle is changed for a coffin, and the gay 
 horse-cloth for a shroud. For the elegance of seat, 
 the perfection of hand, the judgment of pace, with 
 power in his saddle, Wynn was equal to any Irish- 
 man that ever yet sat on steed. In his riding of 
 Mathew for the Grand National he exhibited tho 
 finest specimen of his style, contending against 
 Oliver on St. Leger, mid winning, with great re- 
 joicing among the sons of the Emerald Isle. His 
 winning with Carrig at Warwick afforded evidence 
 of his talent. He anived just as the horses were 
 saddling, and never was over the course before the 
 race. He rode Oscar at Wolverhampton, and won 
 the fastest race on record — four miles in eight 
 minutes and fifty seconds — beating Sir Peter Laurie, 
 Lord George, Miss Mowbray, and a large ffeld of 
 others. When on the Daffney, against Gulliver, 
 Wynn displayed one of the greatest perfections of 
 a jockey — a coolness which the most distressing 
 circumstances could not disturb. Before the lot 
 had gone half a mile the Duffney bolted, and Gul- 
 liver got full two fields a-head of him, but he never 
 varied his pace to within half a mile of home, when 
 he sat down to work, and won in the last stride 
 by a head. His jockeying Napoleon against Eglin- 
 ton, at the Down Royal Corporation, in October, 
 for the plate, was one of the grandest treats ever 
 witnessed on the Maze; he was passed in that con- 
 test three times between the gravel-hill and home, 
 but he got his animal three times up again in front, 
 and won, to the surprise of all who saw him, with 
 one of the worst horses that ever yet won a plate, 
 the betting being five to one on Eglinton. The 
 death of Wynn will be a sad loss to the real sport- 
 ing men in Ireland. 
 
IRISH MISCELLANY. 
 
 415 
 
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 Si.x lines or less constitute naif a square. 
 
 Larger advertisements charged in proijortion. 
 
 Business Notices, solid ... 10 cents per line. 
 
 ' " leaded ... 15 " " " 
 
 BUSINESS CARDS OF six lines or less. 
 For On Mouth,. . . .S1.60 I Six Months, . . . S6.C0 
 
 Three Months, . . . S3.00 | Oue Year S3.C0 
 
 *j,*An advertisements payable in advance. 
 
 Back Nu.iibeks ol the Miscellany, from the commence^: 
 ment of the paper, maybe procured througit any of Ot r . 
 regular agents, or by sending direct to the office of publ • 
 cation. No. 10 Franklin street, Boston. Will our Jriends In 
 want bear tUi< iUct In mind? 
 
4t6 
 
 iniSH MISCELLANY. 
 
 ADVERTISEMENTS 
 
 PASSACJE REDUt'EI) lil'.TWKEX 
 
 LIVERPOOL AND BOSTON 
 
 MERCHANTS 
 
 ADVERTISEMENTS. 
 
 LINE 
 BOSTON AND LIVEKPOOL PACKETS; 
 
 SIlipK. 
 
 comuodork- - - 
 Caklyli: . - . . 
 
 SlIAWSIlTT - - - 
 
 Moaoi.iA ... 
 
 ThoS- jLrPEItPON 
 
 WaltkkScott - 
 pkixcesskoval - 
 
 RlCIIAltD MORSK - 
 
 tualatta - - - 
 Cambria - . - 
 i'ooahontis - . 
 
 kUKU8 CUOATE - 
 
 Tons. 
 1600 - 
 
 axw . 
 
 1000 . 
 
 16(10 - 
 
 10(10 - 
 
 ISOO - 
 
 2U00 - 
 
 1500 Dii)8mon 
 
 l"uO StiutoR 
 
 ISoO Perry 
 
 - - Dt^land 
 
 Captnhis. 
 
 - - llliss 
 
 - Mii.vwell 
 
 - IliRgine 
 
 - Mflcher 
 
 - • • Hill 
 
 - - Sniitli 
 Ilurlley 
 
 1700 
 
 - 1500 - 
 
 • KicU 
 
 Thoe ships Bre nil of the lirst class, mostly new, ami built 
 Mprvtwly for the Liverpool trade; spacious botweeu ducks. 
 Well ventilated, with ail the modern improvements lor the 
 conilort, heallli and (safety of pasnenKcrs. They are com- 
 manded by American Captains of known experience and 
 kintlnes,-, who will carefully look to all the wants of the 
 passengers during the voya«e. 
 
 Each ship will be Hiruished with proper Medical atten- 
 dance. 
 
 Tenons sendirg (or their friends in the old Country cau 
 CEPESD on liaviUK them ordered up promptly lor the 
 FIRST DUIP8, and nt such times as will prevent their being 
 detained m Liverpool, as is orten practiced by the other 
 lines. 
 
 R.A.TES OF PASSAGE 
 ft-om Liverpool to Boston (inoludini; provisions):— 
 For iwrsons 12 years of agt, and over, ... * sis jo 
 
 For children under 12 years, 14 00 
 
 For iufauts under 1 jear, at time of embarkation, 3 00 
 
 R E M I T T j\. N C E S . 
 Bills of Exchange on England. Ireland, Scotland, Wales 
 And Ciermany, for sale in t>uins to suit. 
 
 I'assengcrs torwarded weekly to all parts o( Europe by 
 Steam and Sailing vessels. 
 
 PAGE, RICHARDSON & CO., 
 
 114 State street, Uoston. 
 
 JCT" For PASSAGE CERTIFICATES from and to Liver- 
 pool, and Bills of E.xchange, or lor any information as 
 «bove, apply personally or by letter to 
 
 LAWRENCE & RYAN, Agents, 
 
 n271y No. 41 liroad street, Boston. 
 
 ^TO OLD COUNTRYMEN.^ 
 
 ANOTHER RE UcTlON IN PRICES! 
 
 RATES of passage between Liverpool and Bos- 
 ton:— 
 
 Adults, 12 year 
 Childreu under 
 Ijilaote under l: 
 
 and over 
 
 THAYER & WARREN, 
 
 AGENTS FOR THE O^LY REGULAR LINE OP 
 
 BOSTON AND L IVE RPOOL PACKETS, 
 
 Continue to sell Cerlilicates ol I'as.sage to tho.^e sending for 
 heir Iriends in tirtal Britain at reduced prices. 
 
 Sight Bills ot E.xchauge for XI and upwards, bought and 
 old. Apply to 
 
 THAYER & WARREN, 
 99 State St., ok 413 Com.mercial St. 
 
 No connection with any other line. 
 
 All letters must enclose a stamp lor reply. 
 
 N. B.— Packets sail from Boston to Liverpool every 
 nonth. ly jan29 
 
 STEAM TO ALL PARTS OF GREAT BRITAIN 
 
 — tia the— 
 
 ATLANTIC ROYAL MAIL STEAMSHIP CO'S 
 
 NEW YORK AND GALWAY LINE. 
 
 THfSiH tlie Hliorti*»t route between Kurope and Amer- 
 icu. i'he line is comin)M.-a of powerCiiIund la.Ht hvlH- 
 ing MeaniHhipit, ably othcered, and turuished with uvery- 
 tliin)( requisite to render the vovage safe and a;jrceable. 
 ■J lifc dcpurturf* from New York for Cialway will be us lol- 
 lowi, until I'urthcrFotlce, viz*— 
 
 CIKCASSIAN 
 
 Persons vifiting Ireland reach their deittination in three- 
 fourths the time taken by any other route, and all have an 
 opportuiut> ol viuitiug places and hccnery ol' unrivalled in- 
 terei't in Ireland. 
 
 l*rice olpaw-age. Including free tickets by the usual rail- 
 road routes from Cialway to any ot th« principal cities ot 
 Great Uritaiu. at the following reduced rate^ :— First clasii 
 StW. Kecond clai's S5*), third das? 83). 
 
 Thofc wishing to brin^ their friend:* to this country can 
 purchase ticketti lor their pn>>«agc in third clas« from' Gal- 
 way at S30. or from other ctticii in Orcat Britain, accessible 
 by rail 1 ad. $35. A liberal cabin table will be provided, 
 and cooked provisiouH for third clavif passenger* to auu 
 fk'uni Gal way. 
 
 For frt'i^lit and pa.<<fiage and further particulars apply to 
 the American Kxpress (.'ompany, 61 QuiUon (-treet, S'cw 
 Vork, or to 
 
 NAZRO BR(>TI!EK.S & SWKh^NKY, 
 
 oW tf 6 Clialhum^tow. 
 
 OLD COLONY HOUSE. 
 
 PATRICK HOLLT begf leave to announce to his pat- 
 ronn and the public generallv that he has constantly 
 ou hand ut his old and well-known utand, 
 
 THE OLD COLONY HOUSE, 
 
 CORKER OF KNEELAKD A.\D SOUTH STREETS, 
 A CHOICE ASSORTMENT Olf 
 
 BRANDIES, AnXES, SCOTCH & IRISH 
 
 "WHISKEY, CIGARS, &c. &o., 
 
 Hot the very flr.st quality, whjch can be obtained too at 
 
 LOWKU KATES 
 
 than elsewhere in the market; in proof of which he invites 
 
 purchasers to give him a call. nug 28 
 
 ADVERTISEMENTS 
 
 NORTHERN HOUSE, 
 
 north 8QDARB— BOSTON. 
 
 JOHN GLANCY Peopriktob. 
 
 This House has rooms equal to any flret class Hotel, and 
 permanent or transient Boarders can be accpmmodated 
 nearly one half cheaper than at any other House in the 
 City. 
 
 In the Reading Room can be found all the morning and 
 evening papers, and periodicals of the d.iy, together with 
 an extensive Library, for the free and exclusive use oi 
 the Hoarders. 
 
 N. B. Strangers visiting Boston, can always ttud this 
 House a Home. 
 
 
 OLD HICKORY HOUSE, 
 
 36 MAIN STREET, C H AKLESTO WN. 
 
 MC NULTY & RYAN 
 
 "DEG leave to inform the public that they have opened 
 J-' the above house, aud keep constantly on hand the 
 very best assortment of all kiods of WIKES and LUJUOUS, 
 including the celebrated WISE'S OLD CORK WHlSlvEY. 
 In connection with the above house, they also keep cu 
 baud a large supply of the very best 
 
 groceries, peovisioxs and vegetadles, 
 which they warrant to sell as cheap as can be bought in 
 Charlestown, Boston or elsewhere. ly— jan22 
 
 IMPORTANT TO HOtlSEKEEPERS ! 
 J . F R 15G & 158 Federal Street, 
 
 RE.si'ECIIULLY informs his IVicnds and the public 
 Hint he continues to offer for tale a large and select 
 assortment of 
 
 GROCERIES, 
 
 Consisting of TEAS, SUGARS, COFFEES, SPICES, fto. 
 
 — ALSO — 
 CHOICEST WINE8, LIQUORS AND ClOARSl 
 
 Wholesale and Retail. 
 THE BEST FAMILY FLOUR CON.SIANVLY ON HAND. 
 The subscriber's long experience enables him to sell to the 
 purchaser's advantage, and it is his uudeviating aim to pro- 
 duce a better article than cau be found elsewhere for the 
 same price. He is, therefore, confident that those favoring 
 bim with their patronage will receive every satisfaction, and 
 find his goods are sold e.\lreinely low for cash. lydll 
 
 THE BEST PIANOS 
 
 ARE MANUFACTURED BV 
 
 GHIGKERING & SONS, 
 
 who have received 
 
 38 MEDALS, 
 
 THE FIRST PREMIUMS, 
 
 OVER ALL COMPETITORS IN THE UNITED STATES. 
 
 272 Washington street, Boston. j29 
 
 I. SAMSON, 
 
 ■WnOLESALE AND RETAIL DEALER IN 
 
 CHOICE TEAS, COFFEES, COCOA, CHOCOLATE, 
 
 SUGARS OF ALL KINDS. 
 No. 40 Portland Street (Corner of Sudbury), Boston. 
 Goods sent to all parts of the city free of charge, 
 jan 29 Im 
 
 JAMES COLLINS, 
 
 IMProKTKR AND WHOLESALE DEALER IX 
 
 TEAS, WINES, LIQUORS, TOBACCO, IRISH HIGH TOAST 
 SNUFF, SEGARS, &G., &G. 
 
 AGENf FOR JOHN McKNMGHT'S 
 
 ALBANY PALE AND AMBER ALE, XX AND PORTER. 
 
 84 Souru St. (near Biach), Boston. 
 Goods delivered in any part of the city. jan29 
 
 BOYS' CLOTHING, 
 
 EVKRY DESCRIPTION, 
 CHEAP 
 
 TURKEY SALVE 
 
 HEAJ.S ULCKUAIe'd SOKES, FELONS, 
 Burns, Whitlow, Palm Abscess, skin or water Sorolu- 
 la. Ulcerated Sore Legs, Bruises, Chapped Hands, Ulcers In 
 the Neck, Scald Head in Children, Frosted Feet, Sore None, 
 Boils, Bleeding Piles. Ulcerated Sore Breast, Sore Nipples, 
 Inflamed Breasts made to suppurate in twelve hours, with- 
 out a resort to the ' knile.' There is no Salve before the 
 public so powerful as this, being entirely made from the 
 strongest herbs, roots and barks. It can be reduced so as 
 to be applied to a child one week old, or be made strong 
 enough to dress an ulcer every half hour, even alter inortl- 
 acatiou sets iu. so that this salve will do more good in one 
 day than all others in one week. 
 
 N. B.— I give my entire attention to healing Ulcerated 
 Sores, and warrant a perlect curc,failing in which 1 make no 
 charge. My motto is, ' No cure no pay.' Charges moder- 
 ate. 
 
 FRANCIS F. SPRING. 
 
 <i41m • 18 High street, Boston. 
 
 L. L O R E N Z • S 
 
 EUROPEAN EXPRESS 
 
 FORWARDS PACKAGES TO EUROPE 
 
 TWICE A WEEK BY STEAMER, 
 
 And guarantees prompt delivery to any place in ENG- 
 LAND, IRELAND and SCOILAND free of chargci. 
 
 ckages 1-4 cubic foot 
 do 1-2 do do - 
 do 1 do do 
 
 SI 00 
 
 2 00 
 
 3 00 
 6 00 
 
 Packages done up gratis at EDWARD ETAN'S 
 
 ticket ofllce. No. 2 Albany street, Boston, Mass. 
 
 janl— ly JULIUS SPAETH, Agent. 
 
 OROWAY HALL-WASHINGTON STREET. 
 
 T NTH SEASON OF ORDWAY'S >EOLIANS, 
 
 MANAGER, J. P. ORDWAY; Stage Manager. £. KEL- 
 LY; Business Manager, James Mct.EE. The perfor- 
 mances given nightly at this e^tablishment consist in part of 
 ETHIOPIAN MELODY, iiURLESyUE and COMlyUE. 
 
 The hull has been beautifully painted and refitted. No 
 pains or expense ha.s been spared to make tho .£oliaDa 
 equal to any company in the world. 
 
 Tickets 26 cents— Children under ten, 15 cents. 
 
 Doors open 1-4 before 7. I'erformauces commence at 
 7 1-4 o'clock. See small bills. tf— janlS 
 
 CONSTABLE NOTICE. 
 
 THE undersigned, having been duly appointed a Consta- 
 ble for the City of Boston, is prcpureil loullend to all 
 bu.'iiiiess intrusted 10 his charge in a ptunipt and faithful 
 ninnner Houses rented and lea^ed,al.d reiits colk-clt d in 
 all pans ot the city. Oll.ce Ko. 13 Couitniuare; itsidcuce 
 No. 1 lyler place. W. F A. KELLY, ton.l.ble. 
 
 THE IRISH MISCELLANY 
 
 Is published weekly, aud devoted to the interest' and 
 dicution of the Irish people throughout the world. 
 
 OAK HALL, 
 
 ND 31 XOUTH STfiEi;, BO.STOV. 
 
 riie Mi.fcllnnv republishes each 
 ot the old ' Dublin rKNNV Jukukal,' with original aud 
 selected essays, reviews, poetry, &c., by liishmeu, of iirst- 
 rate utility. ' It also coiitHin^ beautilnl rictorial lUuMra- 
 tious oMri.sh bCetiery aud other objects ol lulerest. ainoiijp 
 which niny.be euunueruled engrnviugii ol the uiicieul catt- 
 ttc! and rouud towers, the ruiiiei of tlic old churches, the 
 plundered mruastericf^. conventit and abbe} f of Irelai.d. 
 
 It will Blt<o joutuin correct Tictorial represeutati'Hifl ot 
 n'orkit of ait executed by Irir^hmuu ol the ptei>eitt daj*, &« 
 well an ni fonner times, in tbi» couutry aud throughout 
 Burope. 
 
 TKKlifl.— S2,'X> tier vear. invariably in advance 
 IMOMAS O'NEILL. 'l'i:oriLiK'i>fn. 
 
 tiO It) KltAMtj^' STIIKIiT, ilUHTON, MaSS 
 
 J 
 
LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 
 
 021 343 096 8